#back alley witch doctor

[creative-caramel-coffee]

I swear fanfiction writers could take almost any job at this point. Like with the amount of research I’ve done for sicfics at this point, i would be the best back alley witch doctor around. Five stars on yelp.

[writing-nothing-but-spilled-ink]

Okay but like imagine Jason Todd living in Crime Alley and he has numerous safe houses in gotham some of witch just aren't for him and in fact are apartment complexes that he bought out for cheap possibly due to a little life-threatening scare by Red Hood and any time he's in crime alley and he notices that especially in the winter months that the kids are sick or don't have a dry place to live he just starts setting them up in the apartment complex, and none of the kids ever talk about where exactly that complex is because they love redhood... Also, I imagine that once a week Jason makes like a really big dinner and he just goes outside and serves it to the kids around crime alley, the kids all love him and feel safe with him. I imagine it gets to a point where if the kids are in danger or are worried or scared they just go running over to Red Hood some of the kids have taken to calling him dad, uncle, and other various family references.. And one day on the way back to one of his safe houses he just hears one of the younger street kids yelling dad and he turns to where its coming from and theres just this small kid holding another small kid in his arms and red's just like what happened and the kid just goes shes sick and idk what to do and red just kinda sighs and goes yeah alright follow me kid and he walks over to one of his main safe houses puts his bike away and gets the kids into the car but before continuing to the doc office he calls out through crime alley of if anyone's sick yall better come here i don't wanna do numerous trips and suddenly theres a small group of kids coming out of the shadows and he ushers them all into the car drives them all to gotham general and the receptionist doesn't bat an eye at the gaggle of sick kids or the fact redhood is checking them all in because he and the hospital have an understanding so he gets them all treated and seen and has to sit in with every nurse and doctor, at one point he gets a call from bruce asking why he's not on protrol and jason thinking nothing of it just goes i'm busy im at the hospital have dickface cover my patrol and then he hangs up to speak to the doctors and check on his kids..

bruce shows up at Gotham general just to find red surrounded by numerous children with various flu's colds coughs one of them has pneumonia and was just diagnosed with asthma and he's just taking notes while there's one child in his lap crying cause she's scared and he's just rocking her gently while writing down various treatment plans for each kid and what safe house he's putting them in because he'll be personally taking care of them... and one of the docs spot Bruce and is like excuse me mr. wayne you can't be back here patients only and redhood can be here because he's there acting guardian which makes Bruce's brain short-circuit entirely

Also alfred 100 percent knows about this and has helped red set up the rooms for the kids and everything and some of those big family dinners Jason has for the kids yeah he's using Alfred's recipes

How Jason got guardianship of these kids is because of Harvey dent he got the proper legal advice from Harvey

[whynotjohnlock]

Doctor x ADHD reader

^ My mental state at any given time when anyone asks about what happened yesterday.

Warnings: fluff, It might be a tad long, Grammar mistakes, you may feel slightly offended if you're a nerotipical person, the author wrote this because they didn't want to sleep and needed comfort.

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You'd forgotten something again. Was it about your job? Your family? Your friends you hadn't kept up with because you had misremembered the dates for? That one hyper fixation that you had today?

Nothing matched. Your brain was screaming at you for the time you wasted rethinking about what you had forgotten; but nothing came to mind.

A normal day then.

Then, as a distraction from your thoghts a high tech laser blaster thing punched through a brick wall and you started running for your life. Again.

There were alien pepper shaker robots with plungers. Why where they just repeating themselves over and over? Was that just how they spoke, or was there more to it? Was it nessasary to the way they shot lasers?

"Exterminate! Exterminate!" A laser jolted and swished right next to you.

"Right, I have to run."

And run.

And run.

And run. Except, now you had to not crash onto the person-

To late.

"Oh, hello humans! Is this your way of saying hello? Did I miss a decade?"

You reluctanly graped the strange man's hand. You were not fazed by the oddness in the queston; your thoghts were stranger. "I don't think so. It's just the fact that there are alien pepper shakers with plungers after us."

The man's face darkened, his youthful peesona flown out the window. "Where?"

You knew that the police would be of no help and the sadness in this man's eyes seemed to be familiar. "Can you help us if I tell you?"

"Short answer: Most likely."

"Now witch way?"

The question prompted eternal panic. Witch way was left? You couldn't remember. Were you facing north or south? You couldn't just point in a direction, because you had run in a extremely non-linear way.

Words had never been an accurate source of communication for you. Why were you this way? Well, you knew why; you had been diagnosed with ADHD, but that didn't answer your question. Why did you always forget the things you wanted to remember most? The strange man looked rather inpatient at your mental sputtering. You had to do something! So, you did the only thing you could think of at the time. Quickly you grabbed his outstretched hand and ran, guiding him though the chaotic path you had taken.

Your mind had not managed to retain much running for your life, but your feet did.

 ...Pass the blue house. 

...Turning 90 degrees at the broken stop sign. 

...Jaywalking around the stopped cars in the street.

...Turning again after the nameless black dog.

...Though a corporate building.

…And to the familiar building with the tin tanks.

your hand still fully clasped with this stranger you had just met, you spoke in between panting and gasping for air. "This is it. These are the alien metal tank creatures."

As if on cue, the screams not even across the blook started up again and an army of daleks (Not that you knew what they were called at the time) turned into view.

The madman lurched forward in outrage much like a predator looming in on their prey. He was unnerving. "Alright listen up! I am the Doctor, and you are the daleks! You have no right to this world, and It’s protected by none other than me. And you have made a grave mistake messing with me when I don’t have a companion, or anyone to holding me back. Leave before I run out of mercy."

"THE DOCTOR IS UNARMED. WE WILL DO NO SUCH THING."

EXTERMINATE!

A laser shot from the thingy that would have hit the silly man instead wiped by him as I pulled him into a run again.

Hiding behind a dumpster in an abandoned alley the Doctor fiddled around with a metal glowy stick and welded something together from his pockets quickly. "What are you doing?"

"No time to explain, get me some sort of electrical circuit board!"

"Will my phone work?"

Wordlessly the Doctor takes my phone, prys it from it's cashing, snaps it in half, and conects it to a very peculiar looking device.

EXTERMINATE!

The Daleks find us again but this time we don't run. The Doctor chucks the machine at the invasion party they aim towards us ready to end us.

EXTER-

The Doctor aims his tech stick toward the sky causing his device to activate. The result is instantaneous. Every dalek that was in front of us and firing ends up blowing up in several malformed chunks.

More daleks screech out words as they approach us. "EXPLAIN! EXPLAIN!"

"Ha! I've rerouted the your primary weapon to your self-distruct sequence by changing the commands signals! The doctor is never helpless unarmed, you lot should know that by now."

"RETREAT! RETREAT!"

The Daleks start to be enveloped by an otherworldly white glow and disappear all at once.

The mad man seems to return to an upbeat face and seems to slip his mask back on seamlessly as if the darkness never touched his eyes. He looked again to be a harmless Nerodiverrgent, clumsy and meek as if he hadn't just felled a armada of aliens ready to destroy the earth. he muttered under his breath about inter-galactic law, blissfully unaware of all the odd looks his direction who believed him insane.

It reminded you of the mask you had to put up for all the "Normal" people in your life. How many times had you stopped being every thing you were just for a brief connection?

"Hello, I think introductions are in order! what did you say your name was?"

You plunged back into the real world from your thoghts. "Y/N."

"Well, Y/N, you seem awfully calm considering your planet was just invaded."

"I could say the same thing about you. Also how did you do all that? Are you even human?"

"I'm the Doctor." The man enthusiasticly spoke as if that explained the anomalys of the day.

"Is the your last name or did you just have mean parents that named you Doctor?"

"I'm not human, and it's common for my species to have titles we choose for names."

"Right. I suppose another alien species isn't the weirdest thing that's happened today."

The Doctor broke out into a brilliant little grin. And reached into his coat pocket to grab a little black wallet thing. "Hold on I want to see if I'm right real quick. What's on this paper?"

"Um, It's blank?" I don't think I was catching whatever the silly man wanted me to see.

"You are clever! I knew it! And I do need a companion after...." The Doctor pauses in sorrow and pain.

"Y/N, how would you like to come with me?"

"Um, do you travel or something?"

"Oh, I forgot to mention it, haven't I? I go to lots and lots of different places and meet all sorts of aliens all the time. I hope you know most of them aren't like the Daleks. Millions of planets and galaxys and pulsars and planets up in the sky, one day I'll see them all."

It took a while to comprehend what silly man had just said. You adored the stars. And now this man you'd just met had really just asked you to go with him to see and go to places humans wouldn't go for maybe billions of years!? To boldy go were no one has gone before? (I'm an unapologetically ing references and I'm not sorry.) Was this heaven? Had you died in the Dalek attack?

"That sounds utterly fantastic! You're sure you want someone like me?"

"What are you talking about? You just saved my life and were fearless in the face of a world ending threat. If course I want someone like you."

"I just, usually people don't like the way I think."

The Doctor almost seemed offended. "Do I look like a usual person?"

"Good point."

I looked down in slight embarrassment for bringing it up.

"Hey look at me." The Doctor softly grabbed my shoulder and I tilted my face up to meet his sincere eyes.

"You know what I've found in my nine hundred years of life? I found out the people who get called Quiet or shy have the most interesting thoughts. I found out that the loneliest people end up being the kindest, that the people with disabilities have so much more grit and determination than the people that don't, that the people called slow are the most brilliant when they're done analyzing. that the so called freaks and weirdos of the world are twice as clever and twice as kind."

"Do you know why?" I was near tears and shook my head.

"Because people like you and me have to work twice as hard only to get half as far. We have strength, far beyond that the average eye can see because we're trying to make up for faults by working twice as hard. Our struggles make us more resilient, more creative, and better people. We take it apon ourselves to attempt to appear normal in an attempt to make connections, when in really they should be the ones understanding us."

"You humans are so silly we it comes to different ways of thinking. On gallifrey, you'd be celebrated, not punished for what you call a quote 'disorder'."

I hugged him. I hugged him harder and tighter than any stranger I'd ever hugged before.

Tears. Happy tears flew down my cheek. I loved this stranger, not for his looks or wacky demeanor.

But because there is that silly man's arms I knew again what it felt like to be understood.

We were standing in a world of unknowns, at top a street that had just been invaded but I knew one thing:

"I want to travel with you, Doctor."

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A/N: I'm sorry if you personally don't feel represented in the way I wrote (Y/N) having ADHD and ADD, but I want you to know that I'm only trying to share my experiences as I myself have been diagnosed. I don't want to shame anyone that shares my experiences; just bring them into the light.

[call-me-strega]

Ghost Selkie AU Tidbit: Abuela Soliña

I’m still playing with my Ghost Selkie Au, tossing it around like a cat toy trying to decide if and how to write it and one figure that I’ve kinda developed a backstory for is Abuela Soliña. Now said backstory may never see the light of day in the the main story so I thought this’d be a fun tidbit to throw out while I’m still considering the main story overall.

Okay so my inspo for Abuela Soliña, or Señora Mariana Soliña, actually came from a couple of different sources. I took some of the general headcanon from the DCU; Crime Alley has a large population of people of color, specifically Hispanic in the area Jason lived; that Jason has Hispanic heritage; that some of the older women in the alley occasionally feed street kids; and took them to create a person that would be a maternal figure for Jason bc I’m all for giving him Good Adult Influences.

She functions a bit as a plot device taking up the role of Jason’s magical mentor and helps move the story along. However, I wanted to give her more depth so I based her off an actual figure in Spanish history. Once I had decided a witch was the best magical figure to live in Gotham and guide Jason I actually did a bit of research on famous Brujas in folklore and came across María Soliña/Soliño a famous witch from Galicia who inspired the women of her village to fend off Ottoman raiders and survived the Spanish Inquisition without being burned at the stake. She was the main inspiration and namesake of Abuela Mariana Soliña. She did have children, though not much is known about them, so I wanted it to be implied that Mariana was a descendant of María. I wanna say I’m placing her around age 50 when she first met Jason and 65-ish(?) when he returned to Gotham.

Anyways, like I said I didn’t want her to remain a plot device and actually have depth so I kinda started building a backstory for her. Her grandparents or parents were likely immigrants who moved to Gotham from Galicia, Spain back when the city was younger. Back then the different magical communities were a bit more segregated. Vampires stayed clans with vamp doctors and leaders, gargoyles in their own community, fae in their courts, etc., but she did let that stop her. She was always deeply involved in the inter-magical community and was a central figure due to her interest in learning other supernatural cultures of the city.

She eventually grew up to be a full-fledged bruja who sold her magical remedies, charms, potions, etc to any supernatural being willing to pay her. This actually helped her amass a large amount of wealth quickly, especially when her charms, totems, and remedies caught the eyes of superstitious crime bosses across the city. She always insisted to cover her face with a shawl to protect her anonymity and had several mob bosses sign magical contracts agreeing to protect her and her rights to do business thus making her virtually untouchable in the Alley.

I wanted her to be a very strong influence on Jason. She is very strong, sassy, confident, clever, and street smart and taught Jason some of those traits. She actually meets Jason through Catherine. Mariana had many close friends with children though she herself never married. Catherine was actually the daughter of one of her close friends and Mariana was like an aunt to her. When her friend died and Catherine was left on the streets Mariana did what she could but her fear and unreadiness for motherhood held her back.

Catherine was taken in by her uncle’s family and the two were estranged for a time. In that time she falls into addiction due to her uncles on involvement in drug running as well as bad peer influences. She reunites with her Tía Mariana when she marries Willis and reaches out to invite her to the wedding. Even though they are no longer very close, after Catherine becomes pregnant Mariana offers to help out when she can. She lives in a different (read: magical) part of the Alley so she only sees Jason occasionally but makes a point to feed him, and when he discovers her secret, to teach him some basics of the supernatural world to help him get by.

After Catherine’s death Abuela Soliña is distraught. She offers Jason a hot meal and some money she had set aside (Catherine’s old college fund she never got a chance to use) but hesitated to offer a place in her home so soon after the loss. Jason sees her grief and hesitation, mistakenly assuming it’s unwillingness to deal with him full time and runs off. She tries to invite him back a couple of times but he mistakes it as one off events and remains a street kid until Bruce adopts him.

He still occasionally goes back to the Alley to visit her after that, usually as Robin. The first time he went to let her know he was okay she immediately clocked him as Jason but wished him well with Bruce. When he visits she still feeds him and gives him luck and protection charms to help with crime fighting. (Side Note: on one of his visits Jason finds out the Alfred and Mariana know each other and Have Met Before™️. Neither explains how or why)

When Jason dies Mariana grieves him deeply. When he comes back as a revenant she is both relieved and guilty. She’s happy to have the boy back but a revenant’s existence is not a peaceful one. When he searches her up and comes to see her he looks like he’s survived hell and back and he probably has. He seek out her guidance and help and this time Abuela Soliña is more than willing to pass on her vast wealth of knowledge of the supernatural community and its cultures to Jason.

One of the biggest two regrets Mariana holds with her is not adopting Catherine or Jason when they were at their lowest and she had the chance. That’s why as Jason’s rage cools and he begins looking to return to a (semi-)normal life she offers to adopt him as her grandson for real this time. She has a friend who owes her a favor and can fabricate the paper work to turn Jason Peter Todd into Jason “Pedro” Solina (and his mother posthumously Catherine Soliña-Todd). She offers to officially make him her little witchling and he emotionally accepts.

Mariana is still an active and well-known figure in Gotham’s underworld and supernatural community so having her backing gives Red Hood a lot of pull and credibility. Plus his revenant titles increase his claim to fame in the magical community. Red Hood is well loved and “Pedro” is well accepted with in the community. He’s kind of a public figure, bordering minor celebrity due to his connection to famous Bruja and witch doctor, Mariana Soliña. Not that he is aware of that fact.

Lastly I’m gonna tack on some nicknames Jason receives pertaining to his connection with Señora Soliña:

Soliña’s boy (el chico de Soliña)

Little witchling

Pequeño niño brujo or pequeño brujo (little witch boy)

Young brujo

El neito guapo (the handsome grandson)

Alborotador (troublemaker)

Heredero (heir/inheritor, referring to Mariana’s kowledge, wealth, and position in the community)

(P.S I tried my hand at drawing what I think Abuela Soliña would look like but I’m not super confident in it. I think I’m a better writer than drawer, but if you guys actually wanna see the drawing anyway let me know and I’ll make another post with it)

[flowerflamestars]

For the backstory asks: the fairy and merchant grandmothers from Effloresce and mama Archeron also from the same fic. Your Vanserra family backstory since more of the brothers are dead and Sorcha is the Vanserra and Beron married in. Your version of Rhysand's mother and sister, because I love the previous posts about them. Llewellyn in both the soul mate aus. Ellie as well. Just the magic system in general of the universe. Where Jason got the idea of the "I love you×10000000" flower language bouquets. What happens to the time lines after Nesta and Lucien are sent back. What is Lucien's deal with Helion in lucnes affair fic? How is the human lands fairing in any of the acotar fic? Sorry if this is a lot! Thank you!

No apologies necessary, I love abundance!

Murder tree Grandma and Archeron Grandma both get to have relevant plot fairly soon in Effloresce's timeline, so minor spoilers from here on: Mama Archeron was a faery princess. Think the little mermaid but more flighty and impetuous. Those legs were meant for frolicking, and that's what she did, right up until her death. Her mother, off in the Blooming Country, is very interested in finding her murderer.

Calista Archeron- merchant grandma- lived a very expected life until she was about 45. She was the unnamed head of the family. She protected her vassals, loved her land, made absolute heaps of money. And then, one day, her healer told her those little pains, strange aches she was having, indicated a lethal condition. Years left, maybe. If she was very lucky.

Calista looked at her prosperous, respectable life- her fun, not a love match gay husband, her well-educated and happily married son, next generation already born, her well-hammered out contracts- and decided to live. For herself. For just a while. A faked death later (her husband absolutely helped), the untouched fortune she brought to her marriage secreted away, Calista set out to find the dreaming city all her ships had long sailed to.

My tract with the Vanserra backstory is that Sorcha is Autumn Faery Elizabeth of York, basically. Beron's a conqueror. He married her greater claim, and remade Autumn into what it is now. I do different brother stuff in different stories, but a through-line is the desperate, violent fighting for favor under a monstrous father. Who may never even die. The longest long terms plans and the haunting futility of really trying. Lucien being the youngest is an incidental saving grace, this has all already been doing on for centuries by the time he was born.

I've said it before, but by almost any measure, even in canon, Rhysand's mother and sister were both about 10x cooler than he'll ever be. For fun, I like to reject the bad marriage proposition- the writing there is also just. SO weak- I think Rhy's mum was cool and hot and wild, to a degree that her ancient traditional faery husband probably couldn't keep up. His true love gifted chaos gremlin. If Rhys is most of his own parents bad qualities (reckless, too invested in his own power, ect.- by accident almost certainly, the books DO make a firm argument for this point for both him and Feyre), than his sister gets to be a different mix. Maybe she was better at understanding her restrained father. Maybe her mother foresaw her absolute break with tradition that her existence implied.

Llewellyn! He's a trauma surgeon by most recent training. He was born in 1919, which makes him older than almost everyone he loves and, conversely, an absolute cute little infant of a witch. He's Thomas O'Malley the alley cat but grumpy, about to scowl his way through sweeping all of Dick's siblings under his wing. He's the only au character who had a good childhood. His most natural magic is a creeping, crawling, consuming bloody control that he has very, very stubbornly pivoted into being a doctor. His hated of Nazi's is deeply personal, seconded only by his distaste for his first magical mentor, the reason he ever had such experiences in the first place. Whereas Dick is like, candy coating of charm stretched over a league of extreme competence and HOPE that almost hides a nuclear core of rage- Llewellyn is all scowls and stubborn enjoyment of being truly excellent at things, but the love is right beneath the surface at all times.

Ellie gets a more traditional shitty Gotham background (partially for Very Plot Relevant Reasons)- she's the only daughter of a teen mom. She has three half-siblings she's never met and looks a little too much like. She spent much of her childhood poor and clever and furious, being repeated rejected by bougie private school. She has connections to the irish mob. Her mom named her Eleanor Grace (REDACTED) in a hope of upward mobility. She's equally lost as Llewellyn is, and hides it almost as well. She went to Wizard Parliament and promptly punched someone in the face- (the fact that he was born in 1467 made this much easier, considering her limited reach). The attack dog on a chain ism of Jason/Elle gets almost immediately flipped whenever she really gets going- she is NOT ANYONE'S moral center, actually. Just a heart.

"I love you×10000000" flower arrangements- a name which is making me laugh, thank you- is a couple things. For one thing, Jason is a dramatic bitch in almost every possible way. He's also. DEEP deep deep deep deep down, got just a lil childhood shyness leftover that he covers with immense bravado and/or being an asshole. This has synthesized to make him a Gestures Guy. (see: knives, guns, eye-wateringly expensive lipstick and what he's going to do when he actually figures out her real family situation). He's also, it cannot be unsaid, a massive fucking nerd.

OOOO! Timeloop, okay. A constant, which you might recall drives Lucien very lightly insane at the start, is that the Archeron sisters die or drown. Always. Fae or death. Early death timelines are bad for everyone involved, and usually end in Lucien's shared premature demise or Hybern winning the war. When Nesta has time, they get more interesting. Dead Rhys causes, across several lives: Feyre as high lady NC civil war, HL Morrigan, Illyrian breakaway, Elain throwing up her hands and taking over with Eris, and so many Feyre breakdowns. Loop 25 when they all die causes massive civil war (spring + autumn team up never to be repeated in quite the same way) and the destruction of night. Loop 27 (Cassian murders Lucien and Nesta, in turn, rips out of his heart) leaves Feyre in a life where she's bound by death promise to a man she's left. I like to imagine she goes back to Spring.

Affair fic Helion involvement is to be revealed, but the basics are that he needs an heir. Lucien agrees to actually be that heir (and help kill Beron) in exchange for any help to save Nesta, a thing he does not totally understand a heartbroken Helion would have given to him for free.

So, in effloresce the human lands have much more complicated/normal governments, cities, populations ect. In almost every other story I tend to go with canon...which seems to be that it's a giant mess? Humans don't get to have religion or history, (equality for anyone but their...hereditary matrilineal monarchy?????), and all their queens rule...together? and are now missing and or/evil/presumed dead after the war? I like to think this triggers greater regional independence and societal change, but yeah. It's bad after the war. It has to be absolute chaos in the ruins beneath the wall.

[guardian-of-da-gay]

“The Legend of the Wailing Head Village” (as told by Knuckles)

Read on Ao3

tw for body horror and general fucked-up-ness

 Their camping trip had been going well so far.  Maddie had her doubts at first.  Two of her kids spent most of their lives as in-voluntary campers.  She hadn’t been sure they wouldn’t take to it as a recreational activity.  Apparently she didn’t need to worry, because, honestly?  Knuckles was like a pig in mud out here.  He'd actually seemed disappointed they had tents and wouldn’t be sleeping in self-dug burrows.  And while Sonic had obviously been very bored on their hike, campfire chilli dogs (more magical than regular chilli dogs!) and s’mores were right up his alley.

 That said, Knuckles was less than impressed with scary stories around the campfire.  “You mean they aren’t true?  How can they be scary if they aren’t true?”

 “Ugh,” Sonic rolled his eyes as he flicked off the flashlight he’d been holding under his chin during his rendition of the man with the hook hand.  “You’re no fun.”

 “Scary things are not fun.”

 “Agree to disagree, big guy.”

 “Maybe you can tell the next one?”  Tails piped up.  “Sonic’s been telling all the famous scary stories from here, but are there any scary echidna stories?”

 Knuckles frowned.  “There are… but they are not made up.”

 Sonic rolled his eyes again.  “Bet they’re not even that scary.”

 “They are!  I have one… it is truly horrific.” Knuckles glared.

 Sonic zipped over, handed Knuckles the flashlight, then zipped back to sit between her and Tom.  “Prove it, tough guy!”

 Knuckles glowered, but was always up for a challenge.  He stood up on the bench and carefully switched on the flashlight, holding it under his chin like Sonic had.  Maddie probably should have told him this wasn’t required for scary story telling, but it was kind of adorable and she didn’t want to interrupt.

 Knuckles cleared his voice and took a moment to gather his thoughts before he took a deep breath and began.  “There once was a… very scary witch.”

 Sonic burst into giggles.  “Oh, I can tell this is gonna be an excellent scary story already!”

 Knuckles scowled at him, but pressed on: “He called himself a doctor… But I very much doubt he has received a doctorate and he was not a healer by the standards of our people.”

 “Impersonating a doctor?  Nothing could be more frightening,” Sonic chimed in.

 Tom nudged him.  “Hey, be nice and listen.”

 “My people had an innate connection with chaos energy,” Knuckles boasted. “And we could use it to manipulate the chaos energy in plants.  But a single mistake can cause death or worse, thus only the high priestesses were allowed to manipulate chaos energy in an animal or person.  The witch broke this rule when he…”  Knuckles paused and something pinged Maddie’s Mom-Radar.  “He broke the rule.

 He… was obsessed with this one echidna legend… Which could be a scary story all on its own.  His ambition was to revive an ancient echidna demigod who dwells, scattered in the Chaos Force.  He thought one with power such as mine could be used as a vessel for this god.  He manipulated my great-uncle–”

 “Great-uncle?”  Sonic sat up.  “Wait, is this like… one of those ‘it happened to my uncle’ almost  true stories?”

 “This is a completely true story,” Knuckles scowled.  “It happened to my great-uncle and to my great-aunt and to me! For I am in this story as well.”

 “Well, that makes you questioning this guy’s doctorate status hilarious actually.”

 “This story is not hilarious,” Knuckles said very seriously.  “It is a sobering reminder of what happens when you manipulate chaos energies in living beings and meddle in forces you do not fully comprehend!”

 “Okay, let’s settle!”  Maddie cut in.  “Sonic: no more interruptions.  Knuckles: go ahead, honey.”  This story was already making her feel uneasy, but Knuckles wasn’t exactly a ‘sharer’ and she wanted to hear what he had to say.

 Knuckles’ scowl deepened and she thought for a minute that he might refuse to continue.  Apparently the urge to prove to Sonic that his story really was scary was too great.

 “He manipulated my great-uncle into helping him.  I was only just at walking age and it was easy for my great-uncle to lure me from my parents and bring me to the witch-doctor.”  The Mom-Radar was pinging again.  “Of course, I was too young to serve as a vessel for a god.  My tribe believed their plan was to infuse my great-uncle with my power so he might be the vessel.”

 “Why couldn’t this fake doctor use himself?  Oops!”  Sonic clapped a hand over his mouth and looked apologetically up at Maddie.

 Knuckles’ scowl deepened and it took a moment for him to continue:  “He… did try previously.  Using me.”  There it was.  Red flag located.  “He attempted to siphon power from me–”

 “Holy crap?!  Did it… hurt?”  Sonic asked.  Maddie touched his shoulder, either to quiet his interruptions or calm his concern, she wasn’t sure which.

 Knuckles glared at him before he spoke at length.  “It was agony.  Now shut up.”  He continued, oblivious or uncaring to how this admission affected the rest of them.

 “Chaos energy does strange things in those who are not meant to have it.  He gained a sort of chaos power but… it was wrong.  Certainly not something he could draw a god from.  It also left him physically and mentally altered.  Also he was banished.  Which is why he needed my great-uncle, Dimitri, to sneak me out of the village for his second attempt.”

 This story was already horrifying, but not for the reasons Knuckles seemed to think.

 “Of course, it all went wrong,” Knuckles continued, his gaze falling on the campfire.  “The chaos energy put in my great-uncle recoiled.  His body was destroyed until the only thing left was his head.  Unfortunately, it had been so infused with chaos energy that he survived his dismemberment.”

 Tails pressed against her.

 “My people were already searching for me,” Knuckles carried on. “They heard Dimitri’s screams and followed them.  The witch fled before they arrived, and when they did, they were so repulsed by what had become of my great-uncle, they immediately sought to end his suffering by driving an ax through his skull.”  She put her arm around Tails.

 “Unfortunately the head healed from this wound.  At this point, I was taken away.  I did not witness the rest of it, but I’m told they attempted numerous methods to end his life.  Even to the hardened warriors it was so horrific that eventually the chief and high priestess sent them away.  They built a fire and threw his head in the flames.”

 Their campfire flickered ominously.

 “When nothing was left but ash, they dug a hole to bury the remains.  But as the high priestess began to give final rights they realized the ashes were knitting themselves back together.”

 Sonic leaned against her just as Tails pressed even closer.

 “Unable to think of anything else, they waited until his head had reformed enough to speak and asked what he wanted them to do.  He first asked for me, thinking a little more of my power might restore him.”  Maddie’s breath caught.  “They refused.”  She breathed again.  “He next asked for his family.  He asked for their care.”

 Something in his voice changed, lightened, as he explained: “Sometimes in my tribe, a warrior would be injured, or a child might be born in such a way that they couldn’t quite care for themselves.  In these cases their family would care for them, with the rest of the tribe supporting.  This is what he asked for.

 “The chief returned to the village and asked my great-aunt and grandmother if they would take up his care.  My grandmother refused.  My parents would not have him anywhere near me and she agreed.  If he were in her home, then I would not be allowed there and this was unacceptable to her.  The task fell to my great-aunt and her family.

 “The chief took her out to where the high priestess guarded Dimitri's head.  My great-aunt wrapped him in a blanket and carried him home.  But when they reached the center of the village she collapsed to the ground.  Dimitri had siphoned the chaos energy from her, killing her.”

 Maddie gasped, and she wasn’t the only one.

 “He asked for me again.  He was certain my energy would be enough to restore him.  One of her children tried to pull my great-aunt’s body away and nearly collapsed doing so.  It took many attempts to retrieve her.  No one could get close to him without becoming weak.  He was drawing in chaos energy like a leech.  Still he cried out for me.”

 Maddie didn’t know when she and Tom had started holding hands until she started squeezing his.

 “The chief used a long branch to push Dimitri’s head into a dry well.  But the echo only made his screams stronger.  When the grass and shrubs around the old well began to shrivel up, the high priestess declared that it was not safe for us to remain anywhere near him.  The tribe packed up and the village emptied by midday.”

 Knuckles shrugged as though the rest of the story was natural, casual.  Routine.  “The warriors barred the entrances.  The priestesses placed seals on the barricades.  My father helped inscribe warnings on the walls, since he spoke the most languages.”  A touch of pride entered his voice at that.  “All the while, Dimitri screamed for them.

 “We moved to the far side of the island.”  Knuckles looked up.   “It was a terrible thing for my people, but they told the story of the Wailing Head Village to the tribe’s children so we would know why it was important not to meddle with the living chaos force… and also that if we should find a barricaded village on our travels, that we should stay far away, even if we hear a cry for help from within.”

 He turned the flashlight off and jumped down from the bench.  “The end.”

 Maddie suppressed a shiver.  There was a long, long silence, finally broken by Sonic:

 “Okay.  You win.  That was horrifying.”

 “It wasn’t really true though, right?  It’s just a made-up scary story, right?”  Tails was practically in Maddie’s lap; he was squeezed so close.

 “I told you it was true,” Knuckles said, somewhat affronted.

 “But you don’t really remember it, yourself right?” Sonic asked.  “Maybe your family made it up?  Or-or-or!”  He backtracked quickly at Knuckles’ outraged expression.  “OR!  They massaged the truth?  I mean it is a good story to convince you not to mess with chaos energy.  Something they probably would’ve had an interest in… what with having a superpowered toddler and all?”

 Knuckles shook his head.  “No.  I do not remember much, but I remember the tribe moving.  The chaos of it all.  And my parents would not let me leave their sides, which was unusual because I had always been allowed to wander in the village.  And I remember…” He tapped his head.  “It is permanently carved here… I remember my great-uncle’s face when he realized his body was gone.  How he screamed at me.”

 Tails shuddered and Knuckles noticed.  “Fear not, Tails.”

 Tails perked up, obviously hopeful that Knuckles would debunk his story.

 “Dimitri is only a head.  Even if he is still alive, he cannot climb out of the well.”

 “Oh,” Tails deflated.  “Okay.  That’s… not that reassuring.”

 “This means that he cannot drain your chaos energy.”

 “Okay…”

 “He is not under your bed or in your closet.”

 “O-kay!”  Maddie cut in.  “That was a great–” super fucked up“--scary story, Knuckles!  Maybe Tom can find his guitar and we can do some campfire songs!”  She looked to her husband in a mild panic.

 “I like that idea!”  Tom jumped up.  “Lemme get it from the truck…”  He started off, leaving the comforting ring of light around their campfire.

 “Y’know, Knux!” Sonic said in his ‘I’m trying to lighten the mood’ voice: “I’m with you.  I don’t think that witch guy had a valid medical license.”

 “No,” Knuckles said.  “I doubt that he does.”

 The present tense scared her more than anything else.

[artzychic27]

Lila de la Cruz is stuck in a hellhole

Just a random songfic I thought of while religiously listening to MilkyyMelodies' Hazbin Hotel songs

Lila slowly opens her eyes and immediately, she's got a skullache. "Ugh!" She looks around and finds herself in some alley. In no time, she gets back on her feet when she feels something wet against her back. She looks down at her once pristine orange dress, now stained with... She doesn't even know what. "What the?" She looks up and sees boy with deer-like features. He tilts his head and takes a step closer. His eyes narrow until they widen in realization. "Lila Porter?" "Ugh! Get away from me, freak!" Lila screams, pushing him aside with a little more force than necessary so he hits the back of his head against the wall. It's not like anyone was around to see that. And if he goes crying, her adoring fans will come flocking... To... Her side...

"Where the hell am I?" She finally wonders. And how did she get here?

Grabbing her hat off the ground and giving it a proper dusting, she makes her way toward the fortress-like version of her school. A sign near the entrance that reads, 'DuPont Reform Academy' doesn't tell her much, but when she goes inside, it begins to make sense.

This place sickens me to the core There's glass on the floor and the people smell like trash

She swore she saw Myléne with... Tentacles?! She looks like that sea witch Ondine is always crying about.

Mylenesula does a double take when she sees the skeleton and immediately pulls out her phone to text Ivan Oogie. It's really hard to ignore, freaks and creep galore Man, this place is really wack

The skeleton shoves past the other... Versions? of her schoolmates, uncaring, and only wanting to get some answers from someone with magic!

Lila shoves this school's version of Simon to the side, hearing him spout some religious nonsense until she manages to ignore him. She continues on her way, unaware of the strange looks Minister O'Connor and Doctor Cabello are giving her. Even the shadow witch's own shadow is gobsmacked. The good guys all suffer here It seems pretty clear that this place is worse than death

She stands by and watches as Alya- donning a black dress with what looks like some Incan flare- throws a bottle with a pink fluid at an unsuspecting student, turning the girl into a rat. Next to her in a top hat with realistic fox ears and a tail is Nino, laughing at the student's misfortune before looking at Alya as if she raised the sun.

... Now how she would have gone about it, but to each their own. With a cruel smirk, she kicks the rat aside, making sure to use the pointy part of her heel before continuing her way through the courtyard.

YzAlya and Honest Nino stare after her, their jaws dropping in unison. The sorceress stares at the potion bottle attached to her belt to see if it's leaking.

Jafardrien in his snake form gets ready to pounce on the transformed student, but his slit eyes glance over at Lila, and his fang-filled maw drops. I'm sickened right to my corе, standin' on Hell's floor And the peoplе smell like trash

"Díos, this sucks," Lila de la Cruz murmurs, walking around yet another broken potions bottle no one seem to have picked up for weeks if the disintegrated section of the floor has anything to say about it. What a hellhole Despite being a skeleton, her senses still work, and right now- "Ugh, what even is that smell?!"

In this hellhole?

She gets her answer when she turns around and immediately regrets it when she sees fur-covered versions of Alix and Ismael hunched over what can only be a... Carcas. Somehow she gags, and they hear her. Seeing her pearly white bones, they go to pounce, only for her to remove her arm and smack them both with it before storming off.

Recovering first, IsmaScar is about to run after her and rip one of those bones off for himself, only for Alix Khan to hold an arm out in front of him. With a shaky hand, she points, and IsmaScar doesn't know what has her so startled until he sees it. That is a skinless Lila Porter he's looking at. He's too confused to even think about eating her.

Full of misery! How could this be? What forces sent me? To this hellhole? I've looked everywhere, that fairy bitch should be near!

Cosettewether drops her phone and her gaze continues to follow what can only be Lila. She taps Princess Zoé on the shoulder, and before she can say anything, she takes the blonde's chin and turns her toward the skeleton. The Princess blinks to make sure she's seeing things correctly before pulling out her phone to text the others She better get me out of here! Out this hellhole! What a hellhole, in this hellhole

Hearing a yelp, she turns to the direction of the sound and sees a trio consisting of a dual-haired Marinette, a Sabrina with a ton of makeup, and a Chloé who is much sharply dressed standing over a student on the floor and picking up her belongings while crying. Her, um... Lips, curl into a grin before she bursts into laughter and points at the unfortunate girl, catching the other three off guard.

Lila de la Cruz even goes so far as to kick the student's phone away, and as luck would have it, it slides beneath the boot of a student in armored boots, cracking the screen beyond repair.

The three fashionable villains watch her go with varying expressions- Shock, awe, etc. Madame Sabrina adjusts her glasses, sure she must be seeing things.

Bet my fans miss me at FPA, begging me to return and stay Greatest idol that they had! I can do what I want now, things they don't allow Maybe Hell is not so bad

The way Lila sees it, the bad guys run this place. None of the teachers have done a damn thing to stop all that she's seen so far. At that lousy prep school, she can get detention just for not "being a good example," whatever the hell that means. But here? She's been needing an outlet other than music.

No chumps for fans to appease Heros are on their knees, bested by villainous plans! In here where they have no rules, everyone is cruel Think I could become a fan!

... Oh, she just has to. Besides, no rules, apparently.

The musician strides over and snatches a black and blue guitar with raven decals from a student who bares a resemblance to Luka only... Slightly more attractive, she notices. Before the leather-wearing verison of the Prince can say anything and before the Kagami with black sclera can put a sword through her, she plays an impressive riff that catches the attention of everyone in the courtyard.

DiabLuka's look of fury melts into disbelief, then mesmirization, and then something akin to respect. He puts a hand on Kagami Yu's shoulder to stop her before throwing up the goats and headbangs

What a hellhole In this hellhole

Just for laughs, she trips a student on her way upstairs. Obnoxious laughter follows coming from none other than this world's Kim, who looks ready for the hunt. By his side is Ondine, staring at him with nothing but sickening admiration rather than laughing until her gaze drifts to Lila.

While Kimton is still laughing at the student, LeOndine turns his head toward Lila's retreating figure, and his jaw drops.

It's a perfect fit, I'm no hypocrite But I do love this pit, what a hellhole

What really catches her attention are the crowns on top of the heads of the alternate versions of Nathaniel, Marc, and Rose. With them is a horned version of Juleka, but even without a crown, she still has this almost regal aura. Marc, Nathaniel, and Juleka were never ones to flaunt their royal status back at DuPont Prep- a real waste if you ask her. Here, they're all practically letting everyone know they reign supreme. I might stick around, climb the ranks Be the new Queen of Song in town in this hellhole!

She casually strolls past the villains with a dark smirk that has King Nathaniel dropping his tea cup. King Marc blinks a few times while Queen Rose Candy snaps a picture on her phone to send to the others. Juleficent looks at her staff, wondering if she's been casting spells in her sleep again.

Stopping, Lila de la Cruz leans over the railing and looks down at the courtyard from the mezzanine... Soon it'll all be hers'. What a hellhole, in this hellhole

Without even thinking- because, hello! She's already dead- She climbs on top of the railing and leaps, landing perfectly on top of the marble fountain in the middle of the courtyard with nothing breaking. She plays an acid guitar solo that draws the villainous version of her schoolmates toward her. DiabLuka's loud cheering gets them into a frenzy and they scream and cheer her on.

MimRore's grin never leaves her face as her eyes roll into the back of her head and she passes out in Mireides' arms. Using the snakes under his burlap-skin as fingers, Ivan Oogie manages to throw up the goats.

Maxdrome uses his drone to record the spectacle watch again alter- for scientific purposes and so he can enjoy the small concert over and over again.

Nothing is off limits, I'm so with it! And I'm gonna have some fun! Things good guys prohibit, done in minutes! Yeah, my life has just begun!

Jeanatoa, sitting on Sheriff Austin's shoulder, screams her name. Next to them, Lacey Gothel with stars in her eyes looks like a deranged fan wanting to get a lock of their favorite singer's hair.

Reshma Hook throws her pearl necklace the skeletal singer's way, a clear sign of respect as the pirtate would never part with her bounty.

The second Lila de la Cruz climbs down, she's surrounded by Mari De Vil, Chloé Tremaine, and Madame Sabrina, all wearing matching grins as they practically drag her to Mari De Vil's dorm room. There, they proceed to get her out of her clothes stained by the fall and get her into something new and quite stylish she might add.

The red fabric would make things easier if she had to get... Physical when getting inspiration for her music. I'll be a Queen rulin', in no time, baby No orders from anyone! Nothing is off limits, I'm so with it And I'm gonna have some fun

When classes start and she arrives, she's met with a bit of a warm welcome from her fellow villains, their chatter overlapping whatever Mme. Bustier is even saying. Something about being welcoming to their new temporary student until they can find the real Lila.

Speaking truthfully, just look at me I'm finally living free in this hellhole

Oh, like she's leaving this place, and she doubts her new classmates want this Lila Porter chick back. Whatever loser was hanging here before can have those do-gooders back at DuPont Prep. I've got all I need, everything's fine with me Rule over fools with ease, what a hellhole

Making her way to the back, she slides into her seat next to King Nathaniel who shoots her a wide smile that's fitting for the Mad King.

'I can do whatever I want here!' She thinks to herself and leans back in her seat as the pathetic fairy tries to get everyone to pay attention to the lesson. 'I guess this could be fun after all!'

@msweebyness @imsparky2002

[okaystoptellingmetomakeanaccount]

Top 10 Diamond Dick comics?

1. Old Castle’s Secret. This is the only one where we see Dick’s handsomeness physically, which makes it instantly the best Dick story.

2. Only A Poor Old Man. Listen to em brag

3. Il doppio segreto di Macchia Nera. A very good spy thriller that just gets a little bit taken down by the appearance of Eega Beeva at the end.

4. Dick’s revenge. This story was never published, but Barks’ original concepts were found and his ideas to bring back the Dick and go deeper into his backstory were shown te be really profound. It’s only lower because it doesn’t exist.

5. The Midas Touch. The events of this story were actually set up by Diamond Dick as shown in the later story “Origins of a Witch”. Little things like Scrooge giving his dime to Magica so spontaneously were caused by Dick’s smart plan to put an antidose for the memory bettermaker into his cuppa coffee while being invisible. The entire story shows a very fun and smart and mischievous side to our Dick.

6. The Snowmen Robbers. Taking from the two Doctor Who serials: “The abominable Snowmen” and “The Snowmen”, known fan of referencing things Lars Jensen puts a spin on it by having Diamond Dick be the Snowmen in this recent story. Having cloned himself to be many, and also better invisible so his shadow even cannot be seen, he controls multiple Snowmen to rob the money bin. A great and creative story.

7. Amazing Fantasy #15. In this story we see a different side of Diamond Dick, where he takes a more heroic role and saves people. Being explained by taking place before the traumatic experiences in the last great time war that he had to undergo, this closer to his teenager years Dick is quite the amicable person. Great at showing a different side of our favorite comic book character, who has many layers.

8. Invisible Man. Writer Ralph Ellison takes a deep political intrigue into many facets of Dick’s life and the environment in which he lives. Showing real world dark sides to American society and its relations to racism. A very new and interesting take on Diamond Dick.

9. The Book Of The War. Being a documentation of the war times of Dick’s life, it shows a really profound, deep and profound look at the character’s life, showing him to be more than a one dimensional villain. It’s a really profound book, told in a non-lineair order to reflect Dick’s struggles to keep being himself. It’s the story where we’re shown how he meets the scientist from whom he will steal the potion with which he becomes the character we know today, and him getting so lost that he doesn’t know himself, and such decides to not become anymore and be invisible instead. The way it draws parallels with H. G. Wells’ “The time machine” are also marvelous. Furthermore, is it in general an excellent read that, even if it goes on detours to explore other characters that have been involved in Dick’s wartime-life, is still very much worth reading for its profound looks at these characters. A very deep and profound book.

10. Batman The Animated series: See no evil. This episode contains many sneaky references to show that the titular evil that shall not be seen, isn’t the only ‘invisible man’ in the story. Hints like the code 32194718902 which is shown on the floor barely readable in an alley scene. This being an obvious reference to the page count, creation year, and code of our number one greatest Dick story of all time, Old Castle’s Secret (The). Or, one of the places the characters vist being Edinburgh, which is a reference to Prince Edward, Duke of Edinburgh, who shares a name with the French version of Sir Swamphole McDuck, whose armor first appeard in Old Castle’s Secret. (The). Pretty Leip, if you ask me. The scheme Dick concours up is amazingly deep and profound, and shows another look at him. The reveal that this takes place during his time in the war makes it even better, and explains how he even managed to turn up in Batman The Animated Series.

And now for some honorable mentions:

Uncle Scrooge And The Infinity Dime. The story of the ¢entury.

I hope you enjoyed my top 10 list. If you want more, you can give me money. This won’t do anything, but would make me richer, like Diamond Dick, *wink*.

[dewitty1]

Fic Recs Wrap Up - May 2023(ノﾟ∀ﾟ)ノ⌒･*:.｡. .｡.:*･゜ﾟ･*☆

Secret Love Song by Writcraft @writcraft

If there’s one thing Draco’s certain about, it’s that Harry Potter’s hiding something. When he gets to the bottom of Harry’s closely guarded secret, a flippant solution brings them closer together and forces Harry to confront his past. Rec Post

Back Where We Began by Cassiara @cassiaratheslytherpuff

Harry has to go back to Hogwarts to get his NEWTs, and being well into his twenties he figures the course will pass without too much trouble. Enter Snape’s old Potions book, a bonding spell, and Draco Malfoy. Rec Post

Like Diamonds We Are Cut With Our Own Dust by raitala @raitala

Draco has borne the mark of the Dark Lord for over ten years. It is familiar to him, but he pays the price for it every day, and Harry has noticed.

Featuring artwork by @alekina Rec Post

Fearful Trill by Vukovich @vukovich

Harry should have come out and met someone when he was younger. He should have seen a doctor about the pain in his hip while youth was still on his side. Now, he’s made his peace with dying young, but maybe not with dying alone. Draco should have got the Kiss. He should have died in Azkaban decades ago. Instead, guards throw him in a Ministry lift with a dying man who could stand to live a little. Rec Post

Unexpectancy (Into you) by PollyWeasley @polly-weasley

Draco supposed that starting Eighth Year in Hogwarts fucking Harry Potter was a good start. Both of them were in the closet, for a lack of better words, and both of them were having fun with each other, no bonds attached, no uncomfortable talks, no need to tell their friends whatsoever. It was good to both of them, especially when you considered that the Wizarding World was stupidly ignorant and homophobic, and Draco was already suffering enough because he looked like he was gay. It was better just to keep it a secret. But when Draco suddenly finds out he ended up pregnant of Potter’s child, there was nothing he could do except face the world and reveal his secret. Would Potter accept to reveal his, too, for the sake of this new life? Rec Post

you look so fine by michi_thekiller 

In which Draco is a Veela and Harry is his mate.

“When Draco Malfoy turned 16 years old, he thought he’d make a night of it. He went to a club, met a bloke, and then promptly took himself next door pay-by-the-hour hotel, determined to get the most bang for the Galleon, in a manner of speaking.

Not even one full Galleon into it, Draco Malfoy lost his virginity.

It all went just how he’d always imagined it, and it was, all in all, a bloody good time.

Waking up the next morning, however, next to a bloody ribcage and a man’s intestines strewn all over the bed like thick wet streamers - that was a bloody bad time.” Rec Post

Here Be Dragons by birdsofshore

Harry doesn’t want to waste his time investigating illegal dragonhide trading, whether it involves a fetish club in Knockturn Alley or visiting a remote island in Wales. Why the bloody hell does Malfoy always have to be up to something? Rec Post

Like a Star Across My Sky by InsertAuthorHere @unmistakablyoatmeal, lq_traintracks (lumosed_quill) @lqtraintracks

When Draco discovers Harry Potter is his new landlord, he’s convinced he’s going to lose his shop. When Harry discovers Draco Malfoy’s been invited on his friends’ annual ski trip, he’s certain his holiday is ruined. This is the story about how neither one of them is right. Rec Post

Once a Malfoy by enchanted_jae

Months after their divorce, Draco requests a huge favor from Harry. Rec Post

Here are a few more fics I've read recently that y'all might like to check out as well! (ﾉ^ヮ^)ﾉ*:・ﾟ✧

New Message by Mosrael @mosrael

Harry Potter has a crush on his roommate--like, a BIG one--but he can't say anything to him, can he?! Naturally, he does what any early 2000s young adult would do and asks the internet for help, and gets a lot more back than he expected.

Life skills outside the curriculum by Endrina

It was "Witch Weekly", of all people and organizations, the first to notice and comment on The Boy Who Lived’s absence from the ranks of first years at Hogwarts. The magazine went on to elucubrate that the young hero was studying at a foreign school, possibly Beauxbatons or Holzschuhkäse.

This Ain't the Garden of Eden by Romaine@romaine2424

In 2020, Hit Wizard Harry is starting to enjoy his life. He’s divorced, and no longer Head Auror. His biggest project these days is trying to remodel 12 Grimmauld Place for him and the kids.

Draco Malfoy is recovering from his wife’s death. But is happy with his Ministry position as Temporary Head of the Department of Intoxicating Substances, and with his son who he adores.

This all changes quickly when Minister Shacklebolt decides not to run for another term. The assumption is that 'all is well' in the British Magical world, and that Hermione Granger-Weasley will easily be voted in as the next Minister for Magic. However, Draco knows better. He knows she has a strong competitor who is wooing those who live in Knockturn. And if he wins, the Ministry, and all that has been accomplished the previous twenty odd years, will be destroyed.

Still the pine-woods scent the moon by fluxweed @fluxweeed

You’ve learned to ignore the stench of perpetual horniness that Harry—twenty years old and finally free—exudes. That is, until you walk into the kitchen of Grimmauld Place and find him naked, spread over the table, with Draco Malfoy pounding into him from behind.

In Bad Faith by fencer_x, SoldSeparately Art by @secretartlair with fic written by @fencer-x

Draco Malfoy just can’t catch a break. Between the magical curse upon his bloodline, his hair misbehaving, and that strange pit full of demons in his basement that he had absolutely nothing to do with, it just hasn’t been a banner year for him. Luckily, Harry Potter is here to make things ten times worse.

Anatomy of a Wolf Heart by orphan_account

MALFOY HEIR FOUND ALIVE IN WEREWOLF FIGHTING RING

Three years ago at the tragic Battle that freed our great Wizarding World from the grip of a megalomaniac Dark Wizard, He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, our world lost many Witches and Wizards. Among the dead and missing was Draco Malfoy, the only son of notorious Death Eaters Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy, both of whom volunteered their home for He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named to use as a headquarters. Sources have confirmed that the young Malfoy took a vow to follow in his parents footsteps by taking the Dark Mark.

Inside sources have uncovered that the Malfoy heir has been found alive. Aurors recently went undercover to expose a fighting ring involving illegal potions and unregistered werewolves. Among those rescued was Draco Malfoy.

( •ॢ◡-ॢ)-♡ I hope you enjoy these fics as much as I have! Happy reading, y’all! xoxo Carey  (◍•ᴗ•◍)♡ ✧*💜💙💚💛❤💗💕💖

[whole-fruit-pie]

I apparently posted this everywhere else but Tumblr, so here you go.

The Witch Hunter, maskless, hatless, and hair loose.

That green patch is spin doctor skin from a hastily done repair done by some duplicitous back alley doctor skelecog...

[akwolfgrl]

Witches of 221b

Sherlock paced the floor of her flat. She had sent the homeless network on the task of hunting the women down. She had once more run out of cigarettes and was too wound up to roll more. How hard is it to find a blonde omega witch? She most likely had a large familler, most like a k9. K9s were common with both normal military and police personnel and witches who used to be military. Witches and magicians were not allowed in the military. There was something about the blonde, even with just a glance that fascinated Sherlock. Suziria glared at the door.

"Someone's coming," They spoke, still looking at the door from their perch on Sherlock's leather chair. Suziria was excellent at sensing a magician’s own brand of magic.

Sure enough, Sherlock heard the front open and close and steps on their way up. She rushed to fling the door open to see Ansel, one of the members of the homeless network.

"I think I found her, Doc. She heals people who can't or won't go in, but her familiar isn't a K9 like you said. Come quick, Del’s been hurt, and she's quick," Ansel spoke, looking worried, glancing back at the door. "He's hurt real bad," Ansel and Del were a mated pair of betas.

"Then let's be off," Sherlock put her long coat on with a swish of dark purple magic as Suziria scrambled up to her shoulder.

Ansel quickly turned and headed back down the steps Sherlock hot on his heels. He lead her down an alley where a portal awaited on the wall. She watched as he took out his chalk. It was so very bizarre how a magician's tool was so ordinary looking. A simple piece of chalk is used to create doors and portals. It had a faint glow about it. Her power wasn't as attuned to magician’s but she was working on it. Ansel drew a glowing number two on the top corner of the door as he stepped through. Familiars being made of Magic didn't count. Sherlock stepped through as well. When she stepped onto the other side, the sight that greeted her was one that she hadn't quite been expecting.

Del laid on the ground, a large piece of metal sticking out of side blood oozing from the wound. Del was a new magician with rings that allowed him to control metal. He must have been practicing and took on more than he could handle. The blonde from before came to kneel beside him, and a large white leopard joined her. Sherlock stayed out of sight wishing to observe the goings on.

"Doc, will he be ok?" Ansel asked, coming to kneel near Dels' head stroking his hair.

"He will be fine," Doc reassured him. Sherlock wasn't so sure ‘minor healing’ abilities could handle such a wound; however, she had a medical bag next to her, and they did call her Doc. The omega could have been a doctor before becoming a witch.

Sherlock stood and watched as the other omega removed the metal from Del's side as he screamed and sobbed in pain. Ansel tried his best to soothe his partner.

"Fuck, it hit an artery," The blood that had been an ooze began to pool rapidly underneath them. "Roshanak, put him to sleep," She ordered her familiar. The name was Persian, roughly meaning bright or shining. Going by the size it was a safe deduction to assume that the familiar was a Persian Leopard.

Roshanak placed a large paw on Del and soon he fell asleep, familiar’s magic never appeared to her, perhaps because they were beings of magic, familiars could hide when they wished to but Sherlock could always see them. Sherlock did hope for Del's sake that it was a painless death. He had been useful many times, and Ansel would be useless for some time after Dels' passing. Sherlock bit her lip to keep any noise of surprise from slipping out as they watched the blonde witch stick her hand into the wound as it began to glow a bright golden light. The blood began to slow drastically as the nicked artery began to close. They removed their bloody hand and placed both on the outer wound, and both hands were bathed once more in the light. Del's flesh began to knit back together. That was no minor healing at all.

The blonde witch removed their hands and leaned against their familiar. Sherlock stepped out of the shadows and began to walk towards them, Roshanak watching her the entire time.

"Will Del be alright, Doc?”

"Yes, he will be just fine," She replied.

"Who's the friend you bought with you?" Roshanak spoke with a growl in her deep voice.

"Sherlock Holmes. I must say that was some impressive magic I just saw," Scalpels and a gun rose in the air, a haze of gold covering the objects pointing at Sherlock.

[littlestarabove]

One Master of Death

➼ pairing: Harry Potter x reader

➼ summary: This drabble illustrates your years with Harry and his friends all leading up to the present… and what a dark present it is.

➼ word count: 13.9k (this is too long to be considered a drabble… oops)

➼ what to expect: “I would say something witty… but my mind is blank.”

➼ additional warnings: angst, character death, deathly hallows part 1 spoilers, almost graphic injuries (if you squint, i don’t like blood either)

➼ talk to my characters!

➼ IF YOU HAVE SEEN THIS SOMEWHERE ELSE, it was posted to a different blog, also owned by ME, so it's still my original work

You never thought it would come to this.

Things didn’t turn out the way you expected them to, and certainly didn’t fall in line with your previous years at Hogwarts had gone.

All your life, being a witch had been a dream. Magic was absolutely fascinating to you. When you received your invitation to join Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, you weren’t shocked, scared, or even nervous. You were ecstatic. You’d always known there was magical presence within your life, though your Muggle parents always chalked it up to your over-active imagination. You couldn’t find any other way to explain the strange occurrences when you were sad, angry, scared, or even happy. Objects levitated, valuables shattered, and other unexplainable things happened with your emotions that not even the best doctors could understand.

You could finally tell your family “I told you so,” when your letter came in the mail- well, rather by screech owl. Next thing you knew, after converting all of your allowance to galleons, you were on your way to Diagon Alley.

Now, this place was your dream. Every where you looked, magic inhabited every nook and cranny. You didn’t even know where to start. Of course, you had your list of school supplies, but you weren’t paying it any mind as your head ran ramped with thoughts about where to begin. You hadn’t even arrived at Hogwarts and you were planning out the next seven years of your academic career with extreme detail.

You were wandering aimlessly when you saw her- through the musty window The Magical Menagerie inside of a golden cage- your future companion and confidant. She was the most majestic creature you’d ever seen, and you wanted nothing more than for her to be yours.

You walked out of The Magical Menagerie with your very own screech owl, who you later decided to call Maggie. There was no particular reasoning as to why you picked that name- it just seemed fitting.

Your wand ceremony was probably something you would remember for the remainder of your life. It was one of the most magical and ethereal events you’d experienced in your entire life. The wand that settled on you was made of reed wood, 15 inches long, with a core of dragon heartstring. Mr. Ollivander specified that you were destined for a dramatic, adventured-filled life, but also warned you of the dangers that lied ahead of you.

Whatever that meant. You didn’t take him seriously. You were 11.

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You want to say you met Hermione Granger due to the fact that you’re both amazing people adept with social skills and the ability to integrate with other witches and wizards, but that would be a big, fat lie.

You met her when you both stayed in the library after hours, which resulted in the two of you being locked in for the night until someone came to open it up in the early hours of the morning.

Which wasn’t for a long time.

It was your second year at Hogwarts, and this mistake was understandable… for a first year. Had you been 11, you wouldn’t have been so hard on yourself. But, no, you were at the grand age of 12 years old, you should know better.

That’s what your tween brain thought, at least. You used to look back on this memory with Hermione and laugh.

Speak of the devil, this is how you got to know the brilliant witch, through forced socialization behind the locked doors of the dimly lit library.

“Guess we’re stuck here, huh?” you were the first to speak. Hermione looked up at you and nodded.

“Guess we are.” She pouted.

“I’m Y/N L/N.” You stuck your hand out for Hermione to shake, which she did, politely.

“I’m Hermione Granger.” She smiled brightly, to which you returned.

“So… how did you end up in here past closing?” you asked cautiously.

“I simply lost track of time, I was looking for something.” Hermione explained vaguely, the both of you seated hopelessly in front of the doors to the exit. You sighed deeply.

“I fell asleep on my book.” you admitted. Hermione giggled, which pulled a laugh of your own through your throat.

“The boys are never going to let me live this one down.” Hermione sighed with a hopeless grin. You tilted your head at her.

“The boys?” you questioned curiously. Hermione smiled sheepishly. “My friends, Harry and Ron. They’re going to tease me about this endlessly.” Hermione chuckled.

“Harry? As in, Harry Potter?” you questioned, to which Hermione confirmed with a nod. “I’ve seen him around, but never here.”

Hermione snorted and shook her head. “That’s because I don’t think they’ve ever set foot in the library.” she snickered.

“That’s a shame, I love it in here. It’s where I belong.” You joked, beaming.

“I practically live in here, how come I’ve never seen you before?” Hermione inquired with confusion. Your cheeks turned a dull shade of red as you ducked your head.

“I sit near the back, it’s quieter back there.” You explained nervously.

“Ah, that would be why. I sit near the front.” Hermione giggled.

Next thing you knew, the two of you were chatting and sharing life stories while playing with the cards with a pack that you had buried in one of your robe pockets.

“What are you actually doing stuck here, Hermione?” you raised an eyebrow as you adjusted your hand of cards. Hermione sighed in defeat.

“I guess I could tell you. I’m looking for a recipe for polyjuice potion.” she admitted as she scanned her remaining cards.

“Wow, that’s quite complicated, I hear. I’m impressed. What do you need it for?”

“We’re trying to figure out who the heir of Slytherin is, and we need the potion to sneak into their common room undetected.” Hermione explained thoroughly.

“Oh, that rumor with the horrid message written in blood on the wall? I thought it was all an elaborate prank, but then the professors began to worry, so I knew it was serious.” You clarified with a grimace.

“We think it’s Malfoy.” Hermione announced. You snorted. “Doesn’t everyone? Malfoy is the perfect git to be the heir to a Muggle hating wizard.” you grumbled.

Hermione laughed. “Ron and Harry would like you, you’re funny and you hate Malfoy. That’s two things they look for in a person.” Hermione joked with a hint of seriousness.

“I think I would like them as well.” you smiled with a polite undertone.

Hermione looked at her cards and groaned. “I fold.” She placed her cards face down. Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

“I thought we were playing go-fish?”

The two of you burst into a fit a laughter. That was the night that began a lasting friendship between two extraordinary witches.

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“Hermione, why are we in such a rush?” Ron whined as he struggled to keep up with her fast pace. Hermione huffed.

“I’ve got a friend keeping the book we need safe. We’re already late meeting her there.” Hermione explained in exasperation.

The trio burst through the doors to the library and Hermione began to scan the crowd when she remembered something important.

“She sits near the back, come on.” Hermione waved urgently as she began her path to the back of the library.

She peeked into every row with the hope of finding you sitting alone with the book you’d promised to find in your free time. Much to Hermione’s surprise, you weren’t as close to the back as she had originally thought. She found you in no time.

“There you are! I was beginning to worry.” You noticed them as they came barreling down towards you, all with heavy breathing.

“Sorry. Lost track of time.” Hermione apologized. You shook your head.

“No worries. I’ve got the book here.” You shook the book in your hand to indicate your findings.

Harry and Ron stood utterly confused behind Hermione as she took a seat without hesitation.

“Who are you?” Ron asked quite bluntly. Hermione groaned.

“Must you be so direct?” Hermione gestured to you. “Harry, Ron, this is Y/N. Y/N, this Harry, and that’s Ron.” Hermione pointed to each boy respectively. You beamed widely at them.

“Pleasure to meet you both.” neither of them replied, only stared at you.

“Warm welcome.” you chuckled awkwardly. Hermione noticed your distress and hurried to confront the boys.

“Be polite. She’s helping us.” Hermione gestured violently for them to sit. They both did as they were told.

You tried your best to ignore the fact that Hermione might as well have promised that you would be well-liked by her friends. You chewed on the inside of your cheek nervously as you presented Hermione with the book you’d promised her.

In the dark nook, you, Harry, Ron, and Hermione huddled around the book entitled “Moste Potente Potions.” The spotted pages were littered with disturbing illustrations.

You flipped to your book mark and dragged your finger under the sub title.

“Here it is: ’The Polyjuice Potion. Properly brewed, the Polyjuice Potion allows the drinker to transform himself temporarily into the physical form of another’…” You read directly from the text, trailing off as you reached the end of the important information.

“You mean, Harry and I drink some of this stuff and we turn into Crabbe and Goyle?” Ron leaned forward to clarify his suspicions.

“Yes.” Hermione assured. Ron beamed widely.

“Wicked! Malfoy’ll tell us anything!” Ron exclaimed excitedly.

“Exactly. But, it’s tricky. I’ve never seen a more complicated potion. Lacewing flies, leeches, fluxweed. And, of course, we’ll need a bit of whoever we want to change into too.” Hermione worried her bottom lip as she read over the ingredients for the overly complicated and advanced potion.

“Hang on now. I’m drinking nothing with Crabbe’s toenails in it.” Ron grumbled with a grimace.

“How long will it take to make?” Harry leaned forward over Ron’s shoulder to take a more intricate peek at the instructions.

“It looks like a month.” you scanned over the pages carefully.

“A month? But if Malfoy is the heir of Slytherin… he could attack half the Muggle-borns in the school by then.” Harry cautioned. Hermione shivered.

“As if people like us need more reason to be targeted by Malfoy.” You placed your chin in the palm of your hand with a pout.

Hermione beamed. “You’re a Muggle-born as well? I knew we were going to be great friends.”

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Harry and Ron made their exit from their library as you and Hermione remained seated to further study the potion to better learn the ins and outs.

Ron pulled Harry aside with a worried expression. “I don’t think Y/N being in our group is a good idea. We do not need another Hermione to nag us about every little thing.” Ron was practically livid. Harry shrugged.

“I dunno. I think it would be nice to have another girl around. Someone… to keep Hermione occupied.” Harry’s lie wasn’t the most clever, but he figured it was enough to throw Ron off his scent. Quite frankly, the prospect of having another girl join their group made Harry quite flustered, especially due to the fact that you’re probably one of the prettiest 12-year-olds he’d ever seen. But, of course, it didn’t take much to convince Ron otherwise.

“You’re right. That would be a big weight off our own shoulders.” Ron agreed. Harry smiled in spite of his lie.

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Third Year

Silence. A room of shadows. While those around him slumbered, Harry lied awake, unable to sleep. Finally, he turned to his cupboard, took out the Marauder’s Map, and whispered,

“I solemnly swear that I am up to no good.”

The crooked corridors and serpentine passageways of Hogwarts radiated across the parchment, then… a tiny dot caught Harry’s eye. He frowned. It read: “Peter Pettigrew.”

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Harry moved down a dark corridor, map in hand, wand aglow. In the paintings he passed, the subjects snored softly.

Harry’s and Peter’s figures on the map drew closer and closer.

Harry squinted toward the end of the corridor. Down at the map. Pettigrew moved quickly down the adjoining corridor. Twenty yards away. Ten. Only seconds away…

Wand trembling in his hand, Harry glanced from the map to the dark corridor ahead, again and again. Then… as the two dots were about to collide… he looked slowly up, turned the corner, heart in his chest… and met-

You?

“Oh! Harry!” You exclaim as you nearly rammed right into Harry.

Harry blinked, startled, then glanced down at the map. Pettigrew had moved past him, but your figure stood adjacent to his. Odd, how hadn’t he noticed that before?

“Y/N. What are you doing down here?” Harry raised an eyebrow in question. You were quick to explain yourself.

“Hermione wanted to conduct some research on werewolves… can’t imagine why… but she mentioned something about it being far too late for her, so I went instead.” You gestured to all the rolls of parchment in your arms- your diligent notes.

“I was just on my way back… hold on, what are you doing up at this hour, Harry?” you redirected the conversation onto Harry. He froze.

“Um… well…” Harry glanced down at the map, flustered, and back up to you.

“Is that the Marauder’s Map? The Weasley twins mentioned that they gave it to you.” You pointed at the map in curiosity. Harry’s expression turned confused, but, yet again, you were quick to clarify.

“I was helping them set up a prank… they needed to know the precise angle a… certain bucket had to be placed at on the top of a… certain professor’s door.” you grinned sheepishly rocking on your heels. Harry smiled softly.

“I was just… looking for someone. I think the map is mistaken… says Peter Pettigrew is heading… that way.” Harry pointed in the direction he’d come from. You follow his finger.

“Pettigrew? Hermione mentioned he was dead.” You shrugged. Harry mimicked your actions.

“Well, what are we waiting for? Let’s follow it.” you gestured in the direction that Harry had pointed to. Confused but excited, Harry turns on his heel to follow you, casting his wand along the walls.

“Watch it there, boy!”

You and Harry jumped. But it was only an old man in a painting, scowling in the glare of Harry’s wand light. On the map, Pettigrew continued to move away. Harry made to follow, with you in tow, then stopped, hearing footsteps. The wand’s spot danced across the parchment, and found another dot. Approaching fast: Severus Snape.

“Put it away!” You hissed urgently. Harry fumbled to put the tip of his wand on the map. “Mischief managed!” He stashed the map away, extinguishing his wand, and turned… into the harsh glare of Snape’s wand.

“Potter.” Snape sneered. Snape moved his wand slightly to the left and illuminated you, grinning sheepishly.

“L/N.” He grumbled.

“What’re you two doing wandering the corridors at night?” Snape questioned.

“We were… we were sleepwalking…”

A sneer curdled the corner of Snape’s lips.

“How extraordinarily like your father you are, Potter. He, too, was exceedingly arrogant. Strutting about the castle-”

“My dad didn’t strut. Nor do I. Now, if you don’t mind, I’d appreciate you lowering your wand.” Harry straightened and nodded towards Snape’s wand, aimed directly to his face and nearly blinding him.

Snape eyed Harry coldly, containing himself. He lowered his wand.

“Turn out… your pockets, the both of you.” Snape demanded.

You nor Harry moved, Harry’s eyes still boring into Snape.

“Turn out your pockets!”

Finally, the both of you obliged. You turned up with nothing but your scrolls. But, seeing the map, Snape’s eyes glittered.

“And this. What might it be?” He asked.

“Spare bit of parchment…” You came up with hastily. Your mind worked quickly when it came to confrontation, it was one of your skills.

“Really…” Snape poised his wand over the map. “Reveal your secrets!”

To both of your horror, words began to appear. Snape studied you both, a sadistic half-smile on his lips. He turned the map your way.

“Read it.” Snape ordered.

“Messrs. Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot, and Prongs… offer their compliments to Professor Snape… and…” Harry glanced up at professor Snape after reading the rest, unsure.

“Go on.” Snape urged. You leaned over Harry’s shoulder and snorted.

“And request that he keep his abnormally large nose out of other people’s business.” You snickered, your eyes locked with Snape’s.

Snape’s smile drooped. “Why you insolent little-”

“Professor?”

Snape turned to see Professor Lupin standing in the shadows.

“Well, well. Lupin. Out for a little walk in the moonlight, are we?” Snape sneered.

“Harry? Y/N? You all right?”

“That remains to be seen. I’ve just now confiscated a rather curious artifact from Mr. Potter and Miss L/N. Take a look, Lupin. This is supposed to be your area of expertise.” Snape snatched the parchment from Harry’s grip and presented it to Lupin. Lupin took the parchment, which now displayed a rather unflattering caricature of Snape and a pair of potions.

“Clearly, it’s full of dark magic.” Snape continued.

“I seriously doubt that, Severus. it looks to me as if it merely insults anyone who tries to read it. It suspect it’s a Zonko product. Nevertheless, I shall pursue any hidden qualities it may possess. As you say, it’s my area of expertise. Come, Harry, Y/N.”

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The two of you walked aside a fuming Lupin, who gripped the map fiercely.

“I don’t know how this map came to be in your possessions, Harry, Y/N, but I’m astounded that you didn’t turn it in immediately. Especially you, Miss L/N. For all that time you spend with Granger, I would have expected her behavior to rub off on you in some way.” Lupin fumed. You hung your head. Lupin directed his next comment to Harry.

“Harry, did you ever stop to think that this- in the hands of Sirius Black- is a map to-”

Lupin stops when he realizes that he and Harry were not alone, and stops himself from going any further. Harry waved his hands in defense. “Don’t worry, Professor… she knows… about Sirius.” Harry was referring to the information Hermione had entrusted you with recently- About Harry’s relation to Sirius and the plot against him.

You nodded in confirmation. Lupin sighed with an expression of relief.

“A map to you?” he finished. Harry walked alongside silently, you hot on his heels. Lupin could barely contain his anger.

“Your father didn’t set much store by rules either. But he and your mother did give their lives to save yours. Gambling their sacrifice by walking about the castle unprotected, with a killer on the loose, strikes me as a poor way to repay them. I won’t cover for you again, Harry.”

Lupin entered his office, tossed the map on his desk, and began to sort through some papers. You and Harry lingered briefly in the doorway. You absently eyed the waxing moon that glimmered beyond the window, then stared to turn away.

“Professor. Just so you know, I don’t think the map always works. Earlier, it showed someone in the castle. Someone I know to be dead.” You directed your attention to Lupin, away from the moon.

“And who was that, Y/N?” He was only half-listening.

“Peter Pettigrew.” Harry finished.

Lupin hesitated ever-so-slightly, then returned to his papers.

“Very well. I’d like you to return to your dormitories now. Oh, and don’t take any detours.”

As you and Harry looked back, Lupin tapped the map. “If you do, I’ll know.” Lupin smirked slightly.

You and Harry rounded the corner and set on the path back to the Gryffindor common room.

The moment you’re out of sight of Lupin’s office, your burst into a fit of giggles, catching Harry by surprise.

“That was amazing. When you spend all of your time with Hermione, you never almost get caught like that! Oh, it was exhilarating.” you sighed happily, turning to Harry.

“I… never would have thought that you liked things of the sort.” Harry nervously scratched the nape of his neck as the two of you neared the common room.

“There’s a lot you’ll have to learn about me, Harry. I’ll see you later?” You murmured the password to the common room and stepped inside, Harry not far behind. You moved to disappear up the stairs to the girls’ dormitories when Harry stopped you.

“Have breakfast with us tomorrow.” he blurted. It was enough to stop you in your tracks and to make you turn to face him.

“Hm. I suppose I could. I’ll see you there, Potter.” you disappeared around the staircase.

Harry smiled to himself, his heart pitter-pattering in his chest as he stared off in the direction you disappeared in.

Oh dear, was he in trouble now.

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Fourth Year

It was almost as if your fourth year (so far) had gone by in a blur. You arrived at school, got a new, suspiciously shady professor, and all of a sudden, Harry as a contestant in the infamous Triwizard Tournament. You were worried because of what the tournament was infamous for- severe injury and competition to the death.

You, Hermione, Ron, and Harry were sat in the Great Hall, scowling at the latest addition of the Daily Prophet. Hermione had been made out to look like she was after two famous wizards- Viktor Krum and Harry. She was livid, but you all managed to distract her for a limited period of time.

“Parcel for you, Mr. Weasley.” a small boy approached the table and presented Ron with a particularly large parcel.

“Ah, thank you, Nigel.”

The boy stared in jittery awe at Harry.

“Not now, Nigel.” Ron urged Nigel off.

As Nigel stumbled off, you, Harry, and Hermione eyed Ron. He shrugged.

“I told him I’d get him Harry’s autograph. Hey look. Mum’s sent me something… Mum’s sent me a dress.”

Harry watched Ron lift a lace-trimmed gown from the box.

“Does match your eyes. Is there a bonnet? Ah- hah!” Harry pulled a matching little collar from the box and tossed it at Ron. You giggled from beside Harry, not-so-subtly drinking a sip of pumpkin juice to hide it.

“Nose down, Harry.” Ron grumbled. He moved to Ginny hopefully. “Hey, Ginny. This must be for you.”

Ginny grimaced at the manky old thing. “I’m not wearing that. It’s ghastly.” She gasped as she laid eyes on it.

Hermione, back of her hand pressed to her mouth, suppressed a laugh.

“What are you on about?” Ron grumbled.

“They’re not for Ginny. They’re for you. Dress robes.” Hermione clarified with a smile.

“Dress robes? For what?” Ron panicked.

Professor McGonagall seemed to appear out of no where, making herself known by answering Ron’s question. “The Yule Ball. Which, if you don’t mind, I’d like to speak to you about, Potter.”

Harry nodded as he let McGonagall pull him off to the side to speak to him privately.

“The Yule Ball, Professor?” Harry questioned as they were out of earshot from his friends.

“It’s traditional during the Triwizard Tournament for the host school to put on a Christmas ball. It is also traditional for the three Champions- or in this case four- to be the first to dance.”

Harry cocked his head, as if he had water in his ear.

“Dance? With a girl?” His voice shook slightly with the question.

“Traditionally with a young lady, yes. Why don’t you take…” McGonagall searched the area where Harry’s friends sat for a suitable date. Her eyes settled on you and she smiled.

“Miss L/N? You’ve been spending an awful lot of time with her, recently. And she’s a lovely girl. A lot like your friend, Miss Granger.” McGonagall beamed as she gestured to you.

Harry followed her line of sight as his eyes settled on you as well. You sat in your seat quietly, sipping absentmindedly on your goblet of pumpkin juice as you watch Hermione and Ron converse heatedly about the condition of his ancient dress robes.

You open your mouth and make some kind of remark, which Harry can’t hear, but it caused Hermione to laugh whole-heartedly, which Ron soon joined in reluctantly, and even Ginny snickered to herself.

Harry beamed unconsciously. “She is lovely, isn’t she?” He sighed. McGonagall’s smile widened but Harry quickly caught himself.

“Oh, um, I mean, I could… ask Y/N. As friends, of course.” He added hastily. McGonagall’s smile slightly faltered but she continued nonetheless.

“I leave that decision up to you, Potter. But know this: the House of Godric Gryffindor has a reputation as long as it is illustrious. It demands and receives the respect of the entire wizard world. No house has produced more witches and wizards of consequence. You stand upon the shoulders of giants, Potter. Shame yourself and you shame all who came before you.”

Just then, a commotion was heard. Turning, McGonagall watched Seamus pelt Dean Thomas with a custard pie.

McGonagall’s face dropped.

So much for honoring the house of Gryffindor.

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The entire rank and file of Godric Gryffindor’s current roster- girls on one side, boys on the other, stood before a fierce McGonagall in what you could only conclude as some sort of dance class.

“You have to get a grip! Your behavior barely rises to the level of the common toadstool! I WILL NOT HAVE IT!”

The students exchanged nervous glances.

“Now. To dance is to let the body…” McGonagall took a deep breath as demonstration, “… breathe. Inside every girl a secret swan slumbers, longing to burst free and take flight. Inside each boy, a lordly lion, prepared to prance.” McGonagall illustrated.

“Something may be about to burst out of Eloise Midgen, but I don’t think it’s a swan.” Ron snickered.

“Mr. Weasley.”

“Yes?” Ron jumped and yelled his response, surprised to have been caught.

“Would you join me, please?” McGonagall glared intensely.

Ron glanced about in a panic, then slumped forward like a man heading to the gallows.

“Now then, if you will, put your left hand on my waist…”

“Where?!”

“My waist, Mr. Weasley.”

Grudgingly, Ron obeyed. As Fred and George whistle, Ron raised his right hand in a rude rejoinder when McGonagall closed her hand over his just in the nick of time.

“That’s right, extend your arm… and, Mr. Filch, if you would…”

Filch dropped the needle onto an old record player and a musty waltz filled the courtyard. Instantly, Neville smiled, bobbing his head, as if transported by the music.

“And one and two…” McGonagall kept the tempo skillfully.

“Oi!” Harry leaned back to Fred and George, who leaned forward to accommodate his height.

“Never going to let him forget this, are you?” Harry grinned. Fred and George shook their heads.

“Never. ” They replied incredibly in sync.

“Everyone! Come together…” McGonagall urged as she continued her waltz with a reluctant Ron.

The music swelled as the girls and boys nervously crossed the divide and began to pair off.

You shuffled anxiously through the crowd, watching as it seemed that every girl had a partner save for you.

You could feel your anxiety begin to spike and your self-esteem drop to an all-time low when-

“What’s a pretty girl like you doing over here all alone?”

You spun around quickly at the familiar voice and found the teasing face of Harry Potter standing before you. You sighed in relief.

“Oh, um… just observing, I guess.” You replied unconvincingly.

“Don’t observe. Come dance. I need practice.” Harry took your hand and led you to the floor.

Harry placed his his over your rib-cage while you placed your hands on his shoulder and in his other hand. You giggled.

“Harry, your hand goes on my waist, dear.” you mimicked McGonagall the best you could. Harry snorted with a faint flush dusting the apples of his cheeks in the most flattering way.

“I know.” He scoffed. You rolled your eyes and removed your hand from his shoulder to encase it over his wrist and pushed it down on to your lower waist.

“You do need practice, Potter.” you moved your feet according to the music as Harry clumsily attempted to mimic you. He did end up stepping quite harshly on your toes, however.

“Ow!” You gasped, removing your hands from him to hop on one foot.

“Sorry! I’m just… extremely uncoordinated.” Harry groaned at himself. You dusted off your now unpolished uniform shoe and waved him off assuringly.

“That’s what this class is for. Just follow my lead.” You nodded down to your feet and Harry followed your eyes.

“One, two, three… one, two, three…” You began softly as you moved slowly to accommodate Harry’s speed.

“How do you know so much about dancing?” Harry asked without taking his eyes from both of your feet.

“My parents are Muggles, I attended cotillion as a child.” you reminded with a smile. Harry looked up at you, realizing your faces were in very close proximity.

“Well… um… lucky me, I guess.” He chucked nervously. You beamed brightly at him, resulting in his heart jumping into his throat and being unable to keep himself quiet.

“Would you teach me how to dance?” He blurted instinctively. Your mind blanked for a moment as you were making sure you heard him correctly.

“I just… McGonagall told me not to embarrass Gryffindor and I thought that I should take some lessons from someone with dancing experience…” Harry avoided eye contact with you. Your heart sank into your stomach. Why on earth did you think he was going to ask you to be his date? You’re only friends.

“Oh, um… right, yeah. Sure. I’ll teach you a few things.” You tried to keep your voice from shaking, but the disappointment was clearly present.

Harry grinned half-heartedly. “Great.”

If only the both of you knew how much the other’s heart was sinking down into the depths of hopelessness.

You were beginning to think Gryffindor, known for courage, was not the house for you. You wondered what was going through the sorting hat’s mind when he placed you.

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After a few days of unsuccessfully acquiring a Yule Ball date, Harry made his way to the Owlery, which stood like a stranded scarecrow in a sea of white. Suddenly, an owl fluttered forth and Harry halted. Footsteps sounded and a figure descended the Owlery’s snow-laden stairs, flickering in and our of view. Seconds later, a girl appeared.

Cho.

“Harry.” Cho acknowledged.

“Cho.”

They stood awkwardly for a moment. Cho gestured all around. “Beautiful, isn’t it?” She questioned quietly. Harry nodded.

“Yeah, splendid.” he replied.

He glanced away, face hidden from Cho, and grimaced, mouthing ‘splendid’ in miserable mortification.

“Well, watch yourself on the stairs. A bit icy at the top.” Cho informed bashfully as she intended to make her leave.

“Okay. Thanks.” But as she smiled and turned, Harry pressed further. “Cho!”

He said this so forcefully, she nearly stumbled stopping. “Yes?”

“I just wondered if, maybe, you… wannagoballwime?”

“Sorry… I didn’t catch that?”

Harry collected himself with a deep inhale and repeated his question, “I wondered if you’d like to… to… go to the ball with me?”

Cho’s face fell grimly. “Oh. Harry. I’m sorry. But someone’s already asked me and I’ve said I’ll go. With him.”

“Oh. Well, good. I mean… okay. No problem.” Harry looked away, flexing his fingers within his mittens. Cho chewed her lip, frowning, then turned away. As she went, Harry exhaled, shaking his head, when-

“Harry?”

He looked up and saw her staring him straight in the eye.

“I really am… sorry.” She turned then, and Harry watched her dash back toward the distant castle, filling his footprints with her own.

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“Hermione! You’ll never believe what happened!” you rushed quickly to Hermione’s side the moment you entered the common room and found her in one of the comfortable arm chairs. She silently urged you to finish your statement.

“Dean Thomas asked me to the ball.” You bit your lip in excitement and Hermione beamed. “Congratulations! I knew you’d find a date in no time.” Hermione grinned.

From a distance, Harry could hear every word. His heart sank into his stomach. You were plan A, of course, but plan B ended up unfolding before he could stop himself. Now you weren’t a plan at all.

Suddenly, Ron tripped through the portrait hole, staggered across the room, and collapsed into a chair. He looked shell-shocked. Ginny, who’d accompanied him, fought hard to suppress a smile.

“What happened to you?” Harry asked curiously.

“He’s just asked out Fleur Delacour.” Ginny answered quickly.

“What?!”

“What’s she say?” Harry added before Hermione’s shock could be voiced further.

“No, of course.” Hermione guessed. But, in a pleat of doubt, “She did say no…?”

Ron shook his head.

“She said yes?!”

“Of course not! I don’t know what got into me. There she was… walking by… you know how I like it when they walk… and I couldn’t help it… it just sort of… slipped out.”

“Actually, he sort of screamed at her. It was a bit frightening.” Ginny grimaced.

“So what’d you do then?” Harry pushed.

“What else? I ran for it. I’m not cut out for this, Harry.” Ron groaned tiredly.

As they were all conversing, the Patil twins strode by, arm in arm with each other. They each glance at each other and in unison, “Hi Harry.” and they were gone as quickly as they had appeared.

Harry murmurs a half-hearted greeting before doing a double take in the direction they’d strode off in.

“Don’t worry. I think I’ve got an idea…”

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“Hello, boys.” The Patil twins greeted in unison.

Parvati and Padma, doubly delightful in shocking pink and bright turquoise respectively, waited below for their dates.

“Don’t you look… dashing.” Parvati’s eyes raked over Ron’s robes as she took Harry’s arm. Padma stared in open horror. Just then, McGonagall appeared, looking a bit flustered.

“There you are, Potter!” McGonagall called as she urgently made her way through the crowd to Harry and Ron.

“You and Miss Patil will wait here and enter with the other champions. Weasley…” she faltered, goggling at Ron’s robes, then collected herself.

“… you and Miss Patil may proceed inside, to the Great Hall.” she ushered them to the entrance.

“C'mon then.” As Ron dragged Padma off, she looked back desperately to her sister. Parvati just shook her head.

“We have a cousin who dresses like that.”

Just then, a gust of win stirred in the air and the Durmstrang and Beauxbaton students filed inside. As Fleur Delacour appeared, her silk wrap flew free, fluttering like a dove into the air, leading Harry’s eye to… Cho, who arrived hand in hand with Cedric Diggory.

“Omigod. She looks… Beautiful.” Parvati mumbled in disbelief.

Harry nodded glumly, staring at Cho, then realized Parvati was looking not at Cho, but a girl in blue robes.

Her hair was twisted in an elegant but messy knot with glittering butterfly barrettes littered amongst her locks to enhance the mystical facade, swan’s neck shining. She was simply ethereal. She was…

You.

“I know I’m late! Couldn’t figure out the button on the back of my dress.” You turned to demonstrate the intricate backing of your dress.

Harry remained speechless as you turned back around to face him with a wide smile. “You look handsome, my friend.” You slightly played with the collar of his dress robe, but Harry still didn’t utter a word.

“Close your mouth, Harry. We’re not a codfish.” You quoted one of your favorite Disney movies.

When he still didn’t reply, your teasing smile faltered for a worried expression. “Seriously, Harry. What’s wrong? Is my makeup smudged?” you patted your face to ensure that nothing was wrong.

“Oh! Nothing’s wrong… you just look…” Harry was quite unable to finish his sentence and you frowned.

“Is it that bad?” You looked down at your dress with your heart thumping in your chest.

“No, not at all. Quite the opposite actually… you’re stunning.” Harry’s eyes scanned you up and down. The smile returned to your features.

“Thank you… Hermione helped, of course.” You giggled bashfully.

“Well… erm, Dean is.. waiting for me so… I better go. I’m sure you’ll be expected to dance first.” You chewed the inside of your cheek anxiously, and Harry nodded.

“Right, yeah, you go. Have fun. I’ll see you later.” Harry’s arm was taken by Parvati. You nodded as well.

“See you.” You turned to disappear into the crowd to find your date. Harry watched you go longingly. Parvati smiled to herself, but said nothing nonetheless.

A path of light spilled from the Entrance Hall, revealing a darkened hall glimmering with icicles and mistletoe. The house tables had vanished, replaced by dozens of smaller ones, each glowing with lantern light around a central dance floor. Flitwick conducted a string quartet.

As the champions entered, applause arose. Fleur led the way, on the arms of a stunned-looking Ravenclaw boy (Roger Davies), while Harry and Parvati entered last, Parvati waving like a beauty queen. Harry scanned the room for Ron and found him, staring open-mouthed at Hermione as she passed with Krum.

“Is that Hermione Granger? With Viktor Krum?” Padma Patil was in shock.

“No. Absolutely not.” Ron denied with the curt shake of his head.

As the champions reached the dance floor, Flitwick’s baton froze in mid-air- bringing the hall to a hush.

“Take my waist.” Parvati urged forcefully when Harry didn’t move.

“Huh? Oh… right.” Harry places his hand on her waist and took her hand when Flitwick’s baton dropped and the waltz began.

“Go. Now!”

More out of fear than anything else, Harry took a step and then another. The music swelled. Fleur swept past, rigid as a queen. Next was Cho, dark eyes glimmering as they briefly met Harry’s own. Finally, Hermione- adrift in Krum’s strong arms- shot Harry a goofy, excited grin.

Dumbledore led McGonagall from the Tall Table and, with a short bow, swept her onto the floor, where they danced formally, beautifully. Quickly, the remainder of the staff paired off and joined them. Even Madame Maxime yielded to Hagrid and his horrible suit, though she casted her eyes askance while in his arms. Only Moody remained on the sidelines, eye whirling madly in time to the waltz.

Finally, the students converged, led by Neville, who glided like Astaire, much to the astonishment of his date- Ginny Weasley. Lost in the crush, Harry felt less self-conscious about his own clumsy feet and actually managed to smile.

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Later in the evening, a jagged razor burn of guitars, courtesy of the Weird Sisters, shattered the calm as the dance floor was now a mosh pit, hopping with bodies.

Fred’s hand reached up and snapped off one of the icicles and slipped it down the back of Angelina’s robes and she squealed, darting after him, passing Hermione and Krum. Hermione yelled above the din.

“Her-my-oh-nee!”

“Herm… own… ninny?”

She started to correct him, then shrugged. “Close enough.”

Harry and Ron sat watching grimly from the sidelines, while Padma and Parvati sat on opposite sides of them, arms crossed in aggravation. Ron eyed Krum lethally.

“Ruddy pumpkinhead, isn’t he?” he grumbled.

Harry’s eyes shifted from yours and Dean’s gyrating figures.

“Well, I don’t think it was the books that had him going to the library.”

A handsome Durmstrang boy approached Parvati, who looked ready to put a gun to her head.

“May I haff your arm?”

“Arm. Leg. I’m yours.” Parvati exited eagerly, following the boy at his heels.

Harry watched as Hermione pulled you from the crowd and your date, both with beautiful smiles as you approached the boys. Hermione dropped into Parvati’s vacant chair, flush from dancing. You stood awfully close to Harry, causing him to tense.

“Whew! Hot, isn’t it? Viktor and Dean have gone to get drinks. Care to join us?” Hermione asked cheerfully.

“No, we would not care to join you and… Viktor.” Ron spat his name like venom, and Hermione’s smile disappeared along with your own.

“What’s got your wand in a knot?” Hermione seemed offended.

“He’s from Durmstrang! You’re fraternizing with the enemy!” Ron accused loudly. You scoffed.

“The enemy? Who was it wanting his autograph? Besides, the whole point of the Tournament is international magical cooperation. To make friends.” Hermione clarified angrily.

“I think he’s got a bit more than friendship in mind.” Ron grumbled to himself. Your mouth dropped open.

“What are you suggesting?” your voice had dropped an octave, indicating your aggravation.

Harry spun around to face you, and instead of voicing his jealousy, voiced his frustration.

“It’s obvious, isn’t it? With Dean as well. You’re friends with Margaret Stone, aren’t you? That’s who Dean’s really after. Heard him talking about it the other day.” Harry huffed and sat back in his seat with crossed arms.

It wasn’t a total lie; Harry had heard Dean talking about Margaret Stone, but it wasn’t the other day. It was about a year ago.

You stood taken aback by Harry’s words. Not once had you heard him speak in this tone of voice, especially to you.

“W-… what do you mean?” You could feel your voice wavering as Hermione looked up at you.

“Y/N. He doesn’t mean it.” She urged. Harry stood.

“Well, of course I meant it! You’re easy enough to go out with and get closer to Stone without a second glance from anyone. Thought you were smarter than that. Aren’t you supposed to be like Hermione?” Harry’s arms remained crossed as he glared at you with fury.

But he quickly regretted his words when he watched as your eyes welled up with tears, threatening to spill over as you bit your bottom lip to keep from quivering.

“Y/N?”

You turned to see Dean with two drinks in hand, looking confused between you and Harry. “What’s going on?”

You choked on a sob that threatened to rip through your throat and dashed off, brushing past Dean on your way. Hermione glared at both Ron and Harry before jumping up to chase after you. “Y/N! That’s not true!” She called after you.

Dean spared Harry and confused glance before turning off in the same direction to follow you.

“Are you going to ask me to dance or not?” Padma asked Ron as she sulked.

“No.”

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As Ron and Harry exited, after the fiasco with Hermione, Ron broke off by himself in a rage. Harry found himself alone, Parvati no where to be found, not that he cared at all where she was.

He rounded the corner out of the Great Hall and found you, leaning against a wall and dabbing under your eyes so as to keep your tears from ruining your makeup.

The two of you make eye contact and you froze.

“Y/N-”

“No, don’t touch me.” you jerked away from his grip like you’d been burnt with a ragged breath, avoiding eye contact with him.

“I’m sorry, Y/N. I really am. I didn’t mean it like that…” Harry began slowly, gauging your reaction.

“Harry, you humiliated me in front of Ron and his date, your date, and Hermione, and might as well have embarrassed me in front of Dean.” You moved to cover your face with your hand to hide your expression.

Though Harry knows what he’d done, the thought still made his heart wrench. He’d made you cry, and he never wanted to be the cause of that, not now, not ever.

“That’s… not what I meant to do.” Harry sighed in spite of himself.

You looked away from dabbing under your eyes and up at Harry, watching as his face filled with genuine concern.

“What did you mean, then?” you sniffled, averting your eyes to the ground as you gripped your heels in your hand.

Harry was taken aback at your question. You were giving him a chance to explain himself. He wasn’t daft enough to waste this opportunity.

“I was just frustrated, and I wanted to look out for you… I didn’t want you to get hurt.” Harry’s shoulders slouched as he began to explain himself. You slowly gained the courage to glance up at him as he spoke.

You exhaled deeply, “Dean was overrated, anyway…” you sniffled again, a small smile spreading across your face.

Harry’s eyebrows furrowed with confusion. You sighed exaggeratedly and threw yourself at Harry and wrapped your arms around his neck, your cheek pressed against his shoulder.

Harry grunted and stumbled back from the impact, his arms wrapping themselves around your form. He let out a breath he didn’t know had been stuck in his throat at your action, but smiled nonetheless.

“This whole night has been a disaster. Take me home, Harry.” you buried your face into his robe as you let your eyes relax and your tired brain rest.

“Oh, um, okay…” Harry gave a brief stroke to your slightly more messy, but still gracefully decorated hair.

“But you’ve gotta help me out, here.” Harry chuckled as he attempted to lift you. You groaned and secured your arms more tightly around his neck and jumped, allowing Harry’s arm to fold under your legs and hoist you up, bridal style.

He managed to bring you the rest of the way to the common room, but you somehow managed to fall asleep on the journey. Harry chuckled to himself when he noticed you’d gone limp and your jaw had fallen slack.

Through that disaster of a night, Harry learned that all friends fight, but the ones who stayed true were the ones that persisted.

He only hoped that his friendship with you would be a result of persistence.

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Fifth Year

Harry quietly dismissed the weekly gathering of Dumbledore’s Army for the Christmas holiday. The progress they’d made was impeccable, incredible, and some might dare say, unfathomable.

Though, the tragic death of Cedric Diggory in the past year at Hogwarts had taken a tole on every student, especially one student in particular; Cho Chang.

She remained in the classroom, staring longingly at a cut-out clipping of Cedric’s portrait when he’d participated in the Triwizard Tournament that was taped to a musty mirror.

Harry approached her from behind, cautious so as to not startle her.

“Are you alright?” He asked carefully, keeping his voice as level as he could.

“I heard Umbridge gave you a rough time the other day.” He continued when he knew he had her attention.

“Yeah, I’m okay.” Cho glanced down at her scaring hand, matching many other trouble makers in the school.

“Anyways, it was worth it.” Her gaze returned to Cedric’s, the moving picture smiled back at them as if it knew they were watching it.

“It’s just… it’s just, learning all this… makes me wonder, whether he’d known it.” Cho observed the room carefully with a longing expression. Harry was quick to assure her.

“Cedric- Cedric did know this stuff. He was really good. It’s just… Voldemort was better.” Harry decided on.

Cho cast her eyes down to the floor, then back up at Harry. “You’re a really good teacher, Harry.” In response, Harry smiled shortly.

“I’ve never been able to stun anything before.” Cho grinned cheekily

A faint rustling came from above the two, causing Cho to look up curiously. What she spotted was mistletoe, curiously growing from the ceiling above them with haste.

“Mistletoe.” Cho whispered quietly. Harry was still fascinated by the plant’s growth above them.

His eyes returned to Cho’s face, but couldn’t think of anything worth saying. “Probably full of Nargles, though.” He blurted.

“What are Nargles?” Cho asked with confusion. Harry shrugged.

“No idea.” They wasted no more time and brought themselves together to seal the silence in a tender kiss. Harry’s first, it happened to be.

“Sorry to barge in, but I forgot my-”

You stopped dead in your tracks when you found the couple snogging in the middle of the practice room. You found yourself speechless as your heart shattered into thousands of pieces at the sight.

Harry and Cho separated immediately when they both acknowledged your presence. “Oh… Y/N.” Harry scratched the nape of his neck and avoided eye contact with you.

“Dear Merlin, I’m terribly sorry. I didn’t mean to interrupt.” you were quick in putting up a facade of nonchalance as you frantically searched for the tie you’d recently shed when practicing spells with the group.

“It’s alright… no harm done.” Harry threw a worried glance in Cho’s direction as you find your tie.

“This was all I came for. Again, I apologize for the disturbance- I’ll be going now- Oh!” in your haste to back away, you’d knocked yourself into the wall near the entrance. You laughed nervously and rubbed the back of your head to soothe it.

“My bad, wasn’t looking where I was going. I’m leaving now.” You spun around on your heel and rounded the corner quickly, sprinting down the hallway and back to the common room as quickly as you could carry yourself.

As both Harry and Cho watched you disappear, Harry let out a long sigh. Cho turned to him. “Was that Y/N L/N?” she asked curiously. As Harry began to pack his things, he nodded.

“Yeah… it was.” Harry nodded towards the entrance as he stowed his wand away. Cho nodded grimly.

“She seemed upset.” Cho acknowledged as she watched Harry move about the room.

“Did she?” Harry questioned. Although, he had noticed your odd behavior but thought nothing of it.

“Yes, quite jealous, actually.” Cho hummed in thought.

Harry pondered that a moment. Jealous? You? Of him? Impossible.

“Yeah, right.” Harry scoffed. Though he didn’t mean anything by it, of course.

“I always thought you liked her.” Cho carefully worded her statement as she watched Harry’s back tense.

“I guess.” Harry shrugged shortly. His tone was becoming curt and short.

“Then… why are you here with me? Not going after her?” Cho gestures to the entrance to the classroom. Harry follows her gesture with his eyes and contemplated this a moment.

The next thing he knew, he’d thrown his bag over his shoulder and quickly departed with a “thank you” thrown in Cho’s direction as he hurried away.

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Sixth Year

Harry peered through ripples of an imperfect windowpane in the Weasley’s Burrow, studying the others down below. A floorboard creaked. He turned and watched you emerge into the light, in a robe, twisting your wet hair into a towel.

“Everyone gone to bed?” You asked nonchalantly as you approached Harry.

“Soon.” Harry nodded.

“I don’t sleep these days. So I wash my hair. Silly, right?” you giggled at yourself, folding the towel over your arm

Harry just stared at you, the air prickling with silence. You eyed him knowingly.

“Happy Christmas, Harry.” You grinned sweetly.

Down below, Lupin continued to peer into the reeds. His pupils contracted.

“Sweetheart…” Tonks approached him.

“There’s someone out there. I can smell him. There’s more than one-”

“Suddenly, throughout the reeds, torches blazed.

Back on the second floor, the rippled window behind Harry blushed with light. Your eyes shifted from Harry to the trees beyond.

"Oh my god…”

Harry turned, his breath fogging the windowpane as, far below, flames snuck out of the reeds and slithered toward the house. Bellatrix emerged, peering up through the darkness toward Harry’s silhouette, a mad grin on her face. As she shrieked eerily, his eyes flashed with hatred.

Harry burst through the front door, wand draw, and pelted toward Bellatrix. She grinned, turned, and vanished into the reeds.

“Harry, no!” Arthur Weasley called urgently as he disappeared into the reeds.

Flames raced up the porch steps and climbed the walls of the house. Lupin drew his wand and raced after Harry.

“Remus!” Tonks called.

Ron, Fred, and George appeared and joined Arthur as he dashed toward the smoking marsh. Arthur glanced back as you emerged.

“Y/N, stay with Molly!”

Without hesitation, you raced for the reeds.

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Harry careened through the marsh, reeds flashing past, then spied Bellatrix. She grinned, looking like a crazed wood nymph, then flitted off, her laughter mocking him. As he pursued, fire snaked through the reeds toward him.

Fred, George, Ron, and Arthur fanned out, running full-out, their feet kicking up sparks as shadows splintered throughout the reeds. It was like chasing ghosts.

You raced through the reeds, (h/c) hair gleaming.

Bellatrix lead Harry on, grinning madly.

You came dashing to a halt, chest heaving as you peered into the smoking marsh. A huge figure quivered through a veil of smoke. You eyes shifted, saw Bellatrix racing forward through the reeds, then shifted back as the veil of smoke evaporated and revealed… Greyback.

Bellatrix made an odd, clicking noise, like a signal, and Greyback edged forward, sweeping away reeds in front of him and revealing…

… Harry as he pelted forward.

“No, Harry! It’s a trap!”

Harry faltered, looking toward your voice and spied Greyback. Bellatrix stopped dead, wheeled in her tracks, and seeing you, shrieked with rage. Raising her wand, she fired a bolt of red light which exploded in a shower of sparks around you. You shrieked and ducked, but fired back and wheeled away, flashing through the reeds and coming face to face with-

Greyback, sharp teeth glittering.

“Don’t you smell clean.”

Your breath caught in your throat as you stared up at him in pure terror.

Just then, a bolt of blue burst off Greyback’s back and he turned, seeing Harry standing several yards off. As Greyback gave a chase, you pelted after, both of your breaths shortening until…

Greyback rushed into a clearing, panting, glancing about.

Just then, twin bolts of light blasted from opposite sides of the clearing and Greyback was lifted in the air and slammed to the ground. As he regained his feet, he looked into the reeds and saw you and Harry, wands poised. He grinned… when Bellatrix’s odd, clicking signal carried through the night once again. Turning away, he disappeared.

You and Harry slowly stepped out of the reeds and stared at each other wordlessly. You let out a whimper and threw yourself at Harry, wrapping your arms around his middle in relief. He immediately reciprocated, his arms flying to hold you steady and stroke through your hair. It oddly reminded you of your experience at the Yule Ball, your mind flashing back to when you threw yourself at Harry after hearing his side of the story. You breathed a shaky sigh into his chest and Harry rested his chin atop your head.

Then… Ron, Fred, George, Arthur, and Lupin came thrashing into the clearing and stopped. All around them, the reeds smoked, the flames dying. Across the marsh, Bellatrix’s cackle rose briefly on the air- then all was quiet.

“You’re lucky you two weren’t killed.”

Hermione. Who else?

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Present…

This all brings you to today.

How did you end up sitting in Xenophilius Lovegood’s home, reading a children’s tail about the Deathly Hallows in the middle of what was supposed to be your seventh year at Hogwarts? You’ll never know.

You’ve all just finished listening to Hermione read from the Tales of the Beedle Bard children’s book of wizarding fairytales.

Xenophilius Lovegood stares out out the window. The sun has nearly vanished over the lip of the hill.

“Well, there you are. Those are the Deathly Hallows.”

Harry glances around the room, still confused.

“Sorry… I still don’t really understand.” He shrugs.

Lovegood turns and, taking quill and parchment, draws a straight vertical line…

“The Elder Wand…”

… then adds a circle on top of the line…

“The Resurrection Stone.”

… then encloses both in a triangle.

“The Cloak of Invisibility. Together… they make the Deathly Hallows. Together… they make one master of Death.”

The four of you stare at the symbol in disbelief.

“Mr. Lovegood, does the Peverell family have anything to do with the Deathly Hallows?” You asked curiously. You noticed Ron, Harry, and Hermione staring at you in curiosity.

“That was the name of the grave with the mark on it in Godric’s Hollow. Ignotus Peverell.” You clarified with detail.

“Ignotus and his brothers Cadmus and Antioch are thought to be the original owners of the Hallows and therefore the inspiration for the story.” Lovegood’s focus abruptly wavered, sadness in his eyes, then blinks, eyeing the tea kettle.

“Ah, but your tea’s grown cold. Excuse me, I’ll be right back.” Lovegood heads downstairs with the tea kettle in hand.

As Lovegood exits, Ron speaks. “Let’s get out of here once he’s back. I’m not touching this stuff, hot or cold.” Ron grimaced at his cup of half-empty tea. You nodded in agreement.

“Which one would you choose if you could? Of the Deathly Hallows?” Harry asks the group, lost in thought.

“It’s obvious, isn’t it?” Hermione glances around.

All four of your speak at once:

“The Wand.”

“The Cloak.”

“The Cloak.”

“The Stone.”

You all glance at each other, amused. You and Hermione share a look, knowingly. You’d each picked the cloak for a reason.

“You’re supposed to say the Cloak, but who wants to spend all day being invisible? Dead boring if you ask me. But an unbeatable wand!” Ron grinned.

“Its owner grew drunk with power and was murdered.” Hermione raises an eyebrow at Ron accusingly.

“Yeah, but imagine what a short wicked life you’d lead.” Ron counters.

Hermione rolls her eyes. “Why the Stone, Harry?” she directs her question to Harry now.

“Well, you could bring people back, couldn’t you? Mad-Eye. Dumbledore. Sirius. Anybody.” Harry shrugged.

“But according to the story, they don’t want to come back. It’s all rubbish, anyway. There’s no such thing as the Deathly Hallows.” Hermione’s counter is gentle.

“But I have one. The Invisibility Cloak my father left me.” Harry reminds quickly.

“There have always been Cloaks-”

“Not like Harry’s. I’ve seen a fair few. Dad used to bring home the ones the Ministry confiscated from petty thieves and the like. They always got holes or tears. Harry’s is different. It’s perfect.” Ron explains before Hermione can finish.

“And I think I’ve actually held the Resurrection Stone in my hands, that night in Dumbledore’s office when he showed me the ring he’d destroyed, the Horcrux. It had a symbol on it. Now I think it was the mark of the Hallows.

The four of you stand silently when Lovegood returns.

"Mr. Lovegood. Thank you, sir-”

“You forgot the water.” Ron points to the tea kettle.

“The water?” Lovegood inquires.

“For the tea.” Ron raises an eyebrow as if it were obvious.

“Did, didn’t I? How silly of me?” Lovegood breaks out into a nervous smile.

“No matter, sir. We really ought to be go-”

“No, you mustn’t!” Lovegood panics, his hands searching for any type of purchase on any surface he can find.

“Sir?” Harry questions.

“You’re my only hope. They were angry, you see, about what I’d been writing, so they took her. They took my Luna…” Lovegood’s eyes find Harry with malicious intent. “But it’s really you they want…”

“Who took her, sir?” You try gently.

Hermione eyes the print press. A copy of the Quibbler lies stuck under a roller. She reaches out and pulls it free, the ink streaking over the cover, over Harry’s face and the blazing headline: UNDESIRABLE NUMBER #1.

“Him. Surely you call him You-Know-Who. But his real name is of course… Voldemort.”

As if on cue, instantly, out the window, figures on broomsticks appeared in the sky, getting directly toward the house. As you, Harry, Ron, and Hermione hit the floor, ropes of light ricochet off the windowsill. The printing press explodes, raining Quibblers everywhere, like a flock of doves, smoking with flames. Lovegood waves madly from the window.

“Stop! I’ve got him-”

Lovegood is blasted off his feet by a stunning spell so great the chain around his neck flies across the room and settles at your feet. You glance down, watching the symbol of the Deathly Hallows dissolve like mercury, then looked up, seeing Lovegood streak out the door.

“Ron, Harry, Y/n! Take my hand!”

You, Harry, and Ron begin to crawl on your knees toward Hermione when another volley of spells ricochet about the room and- ping!- strike the Gurdyroot teapot. As Hermione watches, it flies into the air, tumbling end over end toward the Erumpent Horn. Harry’s hand closes on hers, then Ron’s, you reach out and…

… the teapot strikes the Erumpent Horn.

There is a colossal explosion. The second floor of the black cylinder ruptures. Quibblers belch into the air like confetti as Lovegood narrowly escapes and the Death Eaters are engulfed and you, Harry, Ron, and Hermione…

♡        ♡        ♡        ♡        ♡        ♡        ♡        ♡        ♡        ♡        ♡ … tumble and roll to your feet, barely visible in the darkness.

“That treacherous old bleeder! Is there no one we can trust?!” Ron grumbles as he dusts himself off.

“They’ve kidnapped Luna because he supported Harry. He was just desperate.” You explain softly.

Ron says nothing, then spits, clearing the grit from his teeth and peers toward the river. Unlike the raging force it was the last time you were here, it is a little more than a trickle now. The trees are eerily quiet.

“I’ll do the enchantments.”

Ron takes out his wand… when you raise your hand, stopping him. You eyes rise. Your breath catches. Ron, Harry, and Hermione look. Clinging to the branches of the trees above, almost as if part of the trees themselves, are…

Snatchers.

A wand blooms above and illuminates the face of Scabior. Your red scarf, now faded and filthy, dangles from his neck. He presses it to his grimy nose, inhales, and grins.

“Hello, beautiful.”

♡        ♡        ♡        ♡        ♡        ♡        ♡        ♡        ♡        ♡        ♡ The four of you dash through the trees.

You flicker through the trees, swift as the wind, as Scabior pursues you.

Harry slashes through the river, looks up, and sees a Snatcher leap across the divide from one tree to another.

Ron pounds through thick brush, over a fallen tree.

Hermione expertly avoids sticks and stones covering the forest floor, her focus unwavering.

The forest grows more dense, the shadows thicken. Spells splinter through the trees, ropes of light lace the night.

Hermione stumbles, but regains her footing and finds herself in a clearing. You come along not long after, glancing at her with panic. Another figure pelts towards the two of you: Harry.

You all freeze briefly, then the clearing explodes with light as spells ricochet. They hit the ground. You hear the snatchers closing in.

You look to Harry. The tip of your wand glows and your face blooms in the darkness, looking mildly demonic. You reach out, strip his glasses from his face, then point your wand… at him. A burst of white light strikes him in the eyes. As your wand goes dark…

… he is flying toward a fortress, gliding around the high walls, up to the topmost window of the highest tower. He passes through the window- little more than a slit- and…

…finds a skeletal figure lying beneath a ragged blanket. The figure stirs, looks up, and grins with broken teeth. It is the young man- the thief- grown old. Grindelwald.

“Ah, Tom, I thought you would come one day. But surely you must know I no longer have what you seek.”

A shadow- Voldemort’s- falls across Grindelwald.

“If not you, then who?”

“You’re so innocent, Tom. Like a schoolboy. There’s so much you don’t understand.”

“Tell me, Grindelwald. Tell me where to find it! Tell me who possesses it! The name, Grindelwald! The name!”

“Can’t you guess, Tom? It lies within him, of course. Buried within the earth. It is he who possesses it, even in death. Your old friend and mine… Dumbledore.”

Harry blinks and in a swollen blur, peers at you and whispers quickly.

“They exist. The Hallows.”

You and Hermione look at him expectantly. He nods, his face shrouded in shadow, barely visible.

“But he only wants the one, the last one. That’s what he’s been looking for.”

“What are you saying?”

“He knows where it is, You-Know-Who. He’ll have it by the end of the night. He’s found the Elder Wand.”

As you and Hermione stare in stunned disbelief, figures emerge from the trees. Ron is shoved to the ground next to them. Scabior strips you, Hermione, and Harry of your wands.

“Don’t touch her!” Harry exclaims urgently. A fist hits Harry hard. It’s Greyback.

“Stop it!” You gasp desperately.

“Your boyfriend’ll get worse than that if he doesn’t behave, lovely.” Scabior grins misshapenly.

Scabior paints your face with light then casts it on Harry. Harry peers up, his eyes swollen to slits, his face horribly misshapen.

“What happened to you, ugly?” Scabior grimaces.

Harry’s hand finds his face, feeling the lumps.

“What’s your name?”

“Dudley. Vernon Dudley.” Harry blurts quickly.

“Check the list. And you, ginger?”

“Stan Shunpike.” Ron grumbles.

“Like 'ell you are. We know skinny Stan. Try again.” Scabior scoffs.

Greyback, his boot to Ron’s neck, presses harder.

“Weasley… Barney Weasley.” Ron makes up the name on the spot.

“Weasley, eh? Wouldn’t be related to that blood traitor Arthur Weasley, would you?”

“Piss off! Arthur Weasley’s ten times the wizard you are!” Ron struggles.

“Worth ten times you if I can find him. Wasn’t you that tipped him off, was it?” Scabior growls. Ron stays mute. Scabior turns to Hermione.

“You?” He asks quickly.

“Penelope Clearwater. Half-blood.” Hermione struggles in the snatcher’s grip.

Scabior turns to you with a sickly sweet grin.

“How 'bout you, lovely? What do they call you…?”

You jerk away from his finger under your chin and glare.

“Lavender. Brown. Pure blood.” you whisper quietly.

Scabior strokes the nape of your neck, then takes your hair in hand, sniffing it. You groan at his proximity.

“You smell like vanilla, Lavender. I think you’re going to be my favorite.” He grins.

“There’s no Vernon Dudely on 'ere.” A snatcher waves a book in the air.

Reluctantly, Scabior turns from you to Harry.

“Hear that, ugly? The list says you’re lying. How come you don’t want us to know who you are? Hm?”

“The list is wrong. I told you who I am-”

Scabior puts a finger to his lips, silencing Harry, his wand probing Harry’s face more closely.

“Change of plans, boys. We won’t be taking this lot to the Ministry.”

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Scabior and the others escort you, Harry, Ron, and Hermione past the yew hedges of the Malfoy Manor. You eye the white peacock, looking like a ghostly lawn ornament. Harry whispers to you.

“What did you put on me?” He inquires.

“A Stinging Jinx.” You inform quietly.

“How long will it last?”

“Not long.”

Harry glances down and sees his glasses cupped in your palm. As he slips them into his pocket, the group suddenly slows. Up ahead, on the other side of the gate, Bellatrix, Lucius, and Narcissa approach. Scabior grabs Harry’s arm and pushes his face up to the iron bars.

Bellatrix steps close. “Show me.”

Scabior reaches out his dirty fingers and pushes Harry’s hair roughly off his forehead.

Bellatrix shines her wand. Despite the swelling, one intriguing feature can be seen: a scar, in the shape of a lightning bolt. Bellatrix studies it long and hard… then smiles.

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As Bellatrix leads the procession inside, she speaks to Narcissa.

“Get Draco.”

Narcissa eyes her sister briefly, warily, then strides off, toward the brightly-lit room ahead, where her husband Lucius stands, cradling a nearly-empty wine glass.

“Why Draco?” Lucius inquires. Narcissa passes her husband without a word.

“Just sit back and watch, Lucius. Hm? Pour yourself another glass of wine.” As she passes, she flicks her finger off the rim of his glass.

Bellatrix turns, eyeing you, Harry, Ron, and Hermione.

“Where’d you find them?” She begins.

“In the North Forest.” Scabior answers.

Wormtail quietly enters the room. As Harry eyes him, Bellatrix pauses, studying his scar again.

“Lovely scarf, Scabior. Though I’m not sure it’s your color.” Bellatrix teases.

“It’s not mine.”

“You don’t say.” Her eyes slide, catching him looking to you.

“Fancy her, do you, Scabior? Can’t say I blame you. Maybe we’ll work out a little reward for you, hm? That is, assuming all is as it appears. Ah, Draco. Come here, darling.”

From the shadows at the far end of the room, Draco separates from Narcissa and steps cautiously forward.

“My friends here say they’ve got Harry Potter. Seeing as he’s an old school chum of yours, I thought you could confirm the fact for us.”

Draco stares at Harry.

“Well…?” Bellatrix urges.

“I can’t… I can’t be sure.” Draco grimaces. Lucius steps forward, wine glass sloshing.

“Look close, Draco. If we’re the ones who hand Potter over to the Dark Lord, everything will be forgiven. Do you understand-”

“Now, we won’t be forgetting who actually caught him, I hope, Mr. Malfoy?” Scabior reminds, quietly menacing.

“Of course not.” Bellatrix’s eyes harden. “Narcissa. Tend to your husband.”

Lucius staggers back nervously next to his wife.

“Don’t be shy, sweetheart. Get up nice and close.” Bellatrix nudges Draco forward until he’s only inches from Harry.

“What’s wrong with his face?” Draco grimaces as he gets a closer look at Harry.

“Yes, what is wrong with his face, Scabior?” Bellatrix cranes her neck to look up at the snatchers.

“He came to us that way. I reckon he picked it up in the forest.” Scabior shrugged.

“Or ran into a Stinging Jinx.”

You feel your heart clench as you cast your eyes downward. Bellatrix notices your destress and her eyes flash, stepping up close to you.

“Was it you, dearie? Give me her wand. We’ll see what the last spell was.”

You’re alarmed as the Snatcher steps forward.

“What is that?” Bellatrix’s tone is quietly murderous. She pushes past Scabior and Greyback and steps before another Snatcher.

Your beaded purse dangles from one hand. In the other, he holds… the Sword of Gryffindor.

“It was in her bag when we searched her. Reckon it’s mine now.”

Bang! Quick as lightning, Bellatrix stuns the Snatcher and catches the sword as he drops. Scabior wheels.

“Are you mad?!” Bang! Bellatrix drops Scabior to his knees before his wand escapes his cloak. He bellows in fury.

“How dare you! Release me, woman!”

Bellatrix stares at him, eyes full of fire, then flicks her wand as he slumps forward, wincing.

“Go. GO!”

Scabior eyes her resentfully, then exits with Greyback an the others. Bellatrix turns.

“Wormtail. Put these three in the cellar. I want to have a little conversation with this one. Girl to girl.”

“No!” Hermione steps forward and covers your body with her own, staring Bellatrix down with confidence. Bellatrix merely smirks.

“Fine. Put the boys in the cellar, then. We’ll have a girl talk.”

As Wormtail jerks them away, Harry’s eyes flash with panic and meet yours. You mouth, “It’s okay.”

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Wormtail prods Harry and Ron down a steep flight of stairs and slams the door. Ron throws himself against it and turns to Harry.

“Harry! What’re we going to do? We can’t just leave them alone with her!”

“Ron…? Harry…?”

Harry peers into the small, shadow space below and senses movement.

“Luna…?” ♡        ♡        ♡        ♡        ♡        ♡        ♡        ♡        ♡        ♡        ♡

Bellatrix twirls a silver dagger in her fingers.

“This sword is meant to be in my vault at Gringotts. How did you get it?” Bellatrix pins you to the floor as Hermione lays motionless beside you, watching helplessly.

You draw in a shaky, sobbing breath as you try to regain your composure as you cry out. “I didn’t take it!” You exclaim desperately.

“Liar!” Bellatrix moves to your arm and slices open the skin in a rhythmic fashion, carving a word out of your skin. You let out a scream in agony and struggle in her grip, shrieking as your skin burns.

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Harry eyes Ollivander cautiously, when Bellatrix’s voice echoes through the vent.

“I’m going to ask you once again: what else did you and your friends take from my vault?!”

Harry’s heart nearly shatters when he hears your sobbing response.

“I told you! I don’t know what you’re talking-” you scream in pain. Harry slams his fist against the wall and turns.

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Hermione whimpers as she watches Bellatrix’s use of the Cruciatus curse on you for answers. You let our a piercing wail of anguish as she strikes you again.

“Stop it, please.” Hermione lets out a gentle sob and whisper as she watches you struggle to keep sane.

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Quickly, cautiously, Harry and Ron, now brandishing Wormtail’s wand, pad toward the main room as Dobby, the newest arrival, slips off in another direction. As Ron steps past the lifeless Snatcher without a glance, Harry hesitates and glances down.

Something flutters weakly in the Snatcher’s pocket. The tip of a golden wing. Harry crouches and looks; it’s the Snitch.

“Sss.”

Harry looks up and sees Ron gesturing for him. Quickly, he takes the Snitch and slips it into his pocket.

Harry joins Ron as the watch Bellatrix, who comes into view, towering over Griphook, who holds the sword, studying it. You lie at Bellatrix’s feet. Seeing you, Harry begins to lurch forward. Ron restrains him.

“Well?”

“I left Gringotts employ many weeks ago, but when I was last in your vault, the sword was there.”

Hermione studies the two and then watches as a strand of Bellatrix’s hair drifts free and, as if in a dream, floats through the air…

“Perhaps it just walked out on its own then.”

“There is no place safer than Gringotts, Madam Lestrange.”

… and catches on Hermione’s shirt.

“Liar! You can’t deceive me!” Bellatrix slashes the dagger across Griphook’s cheek and a deep gash opens. He barely flinches, the hint of a smile on his lips. Bellatrix looks mildly unnerved by his reaction.

“Consider yourself lucky, Goblin. The same won’t be said for this one.” Bellatrix poises the dagger over you and pushes your limp body with her pointed heel. You whimper at the contact to your sore body and flip over at her command.

“Like hell!”

Bellatrix wheeled, seeing Harry pelting forward.

“Expelliarmus!”

Bellatrix’s dangling wand shoots free and tumbles end over end, right into Harry’s hand.

“Stupefy!”

Lucius Malfoy drops instantly, his wine glass shattering in a burgundy bloom on the hearth. Narcissa and Draco draw their wands. Jets of light spray across the room.

Hermione had been snatched up by Ron at this point, but no one was able to get to you.

“Stop or she dies!”

Harry, Ron, and Hermione freeze and see you leaning limply against Bellatrix, the dagger at your throat.

“Drop your wands.” Bellatrix commands.

Harry stands rigidly, staring balefully at Bellatrix. She presses the dagger into your neck enough for a small cut.

“Ah!” you exclaim painfully.

“I said drop them!”

“All right!” Harry grunts angrily.

Ron flings away Wormtail’s wand, Harry drops Bellatrix’s.

“Pick them up, Draco. Now! Well, well, look what we have here. Harry Potter. All bright, shiny and new again. Just in time for the Dark Lord.”

Harry glances in the mirror opposite and sees that the stinging jinx is wearing off.

“Call him, Draco.”

Draco hesitates. But Lucius doesn’t, pulling up his sleeve and touching his finger to the Dark Mark on his forearm. Harry’s scar constricts and he grimaces in agony. Bellatrix cackles maniacally, her knife pressed against the tender flesh of your neck. A bead of blood bubbles on the blade and then… and grinding noise in heard. Harry glances up and sees the chandelier begin to tremble. As the tinkle of glass fills the room, Bellatrix stares directly upward, watching as…

… the chandelier bursts free of the ceiling and plummets. Bellatrix bolts and you stagger clear, falling into Harry’s arms. His arms immediately reciprocate and you fall into that familiar memory once again. Your body is sore and limp, but there’s no where you would rather be than in his arms at this moment.

Griphook grabs the sword as glass explodes in razor-sharp slivers, Draco screams and covers his bloody face. Harry wrests the blood-soaked wands from his hands after transferring you to Ron and Hermione and, wheeling, points all three at Lucius.

“Stupefy!”

Lucius flies off his feet and drops in a heap.

“You dirty little monkey! You could have killed me!”

Harry turns and sees Bellatrix raging at Dobby. The elf stands fearlessly across from her, defiant.

“Dobby never meant to kill. Dobby only meant to maim… or seriously injure.

"For God’s sake, Cissy, you’ve got a wand! Use it!”

Narcissa hesitates. Crack!- Dobby waves his little fist and Narcissa’s wand flies from her hand.

“How dare you take a witch’s wand! How dare you defy your masters!”

“Dobby has no master! Dobby is a free elf, and Dobby has come to save Harry Potter and his friends!”

Harry tosses Ron and wand, grabs your beaded bag, and joins the others in the center of the room.

“Give the Dark Lord our regards.” You call out weakly with a cheeky smile.

Harry almost smiles back at you. You always have to have the last word.

His hand closes on Dobby’s and the drawing room begins to spin. Bellatrix’s face twists into an ugly blur. Her arm rises, dagger in hand. There is a flash of silver. Then all goes black for a long time.

Then…

… with a great WHOOSH, Harry and the others tumble onto solid earth and hear the crash of waves.

As Harry staggers to his feet as the stars whirl above him. He sees he is on a cliff overlooking a dark sea.

Ron holds Hermione gently. Tears sting her eyes.

You feel a sharp pain in your stomach and your breath hitches.

You can already begin to feel life leaving your body as you become numb to the pain.

“It’s all right, Hermione. You’re safe. We’re all safe.” Harry begins to assure as he searches for you.

She doesn’t respond, nor Ron. Then Harry realizes they are looking past him, even Dobby and Griphook, the sword hanging limply in his hand.

Harry turns.

You stand alone, a queer smile on your face, hand resting just below your chest, the hilt of Bellatrix’s dagger protruding between your fingers.

Hermione opens her mouth and lets out a blood-curdling scream at the sight of you. She covers her mouth with one hand and tears spill from her eyes as Ron holds her tightly.

“Y/N… no…”

As Harry rushes to you, you crumple in his arms, your eyes rolling up to the stars.

“It’s okay… here… just hold on, Y/N. I’ll fix you- Hermione- her bag- Essence of Dittany- something… Hermione! Help me!”

Harry is desperate now as he watches you become more and more lifeless in his arms. He can’t watch you go now, not like this. Not when they are so incredibly close.

Hermione merely stands, tears streaking her cheeks.

“Don’t worry about me, Harry.” You manage. Harry’s face contorts in a sob.

“No, but I have to worry about you! You’re dying! Please… help.” Harry searches frantically for anything.

“I would say something witty… but my mind is blank.” you manage a chuckle as you reach up to grip Harry’s arm. Harry yanks your hand and brings it up to his cheek and nuzzles himself against your palm with closed eyes.

“Hey, look at me.” You stroke his cheek the best you can manage. Harry opens his eyes and stares down into your paling eyes, his own flooding with tears.

“You’re gonna be alright, I promise.” you whisper gently.

“I never meant for you to get caught up in all of this. I promise.” Harry draws in a shaky breath and squints his eyes shut.

It has to be a dream, he’s going to wake up any moment to you shaking him awake in the tent and telling him it was just another one of his nightmares.

But when he opens his eyes, you’re still lying limp in his arms, the dagger in your body and the life leaving your eyes.

“I wanted to, Harry. It was all worth it. For you.” Your smile is sad as you watch the emotional pain that wrenches his heart.

“Please don’t leave me… I’m in love with you…” Harry sobs desperately.

You can’t tell if it’s the dagger in your chest, or if your heart palpitates from his words. That was all you ever wanted to hear. Those words from him and him alone.

“I’m in love with you too, you twat.” you giggle. Harry’s frown twitches into a sad smile for only a moment, before he regains his awareness of the weight of the situation.

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner.” he sniffles pathetically.

“Me too.” Your hand on his cheek begins to grow numb and limp, if it weren’t for Harry gripping it to his face.

You use your last burst of strength and wind your hand around his neck and tug him down to your level, pressing your lips to his in your first and final kiss. Harry wastes no time and reciprocates, only separating from you when he needs air to breathe, but keeps the proximity between your faces.

“Take care of them for me, yeah?” You whisper as your eyes become hooded.

“W-what? No! Y/N, please! We’re going to fix you, I promise, I’ll-”

But he stops himself when he notices that your eyes have fluttered shut and your hand falls limp around his neck. He’s close enough to your face to feel your breathing has stopped and your body has gone mostly cold.

“I’m so sorry.” Harry cradles your head against his neck and lets out heart-wrenching sobs unabashedly.

Hermione hides her face in Ron’s neck as she cries, and Ron sheds tears as he watches his best friend cradle your limp body.

They never thought it would come to this.

[evita-shelby]

National Anthem

Chapter 7

Cw: postpartum, mentions of breastfeeding, postpartum depression and rage, attempted murder, period typical attitudes , alcohol

Taglist: @thegreatdragonfruta @zablife @call-sign-shark

Rosie’s birth wasn’t the end to Eva’s shitty moods.

Jack’s gone to New York with his business at the investment firm he’s bought and knows there’s gonna be another row when he gets back.

Eva was afflicted by the baby blues and some remains of her shell shock. Didn’t help that Rosie had trouble latching onto her tits to the point the doctor had to recommend powdered baby formula a week ago.

His witch had taken it as having failed at being a mother even if Rosie was barely fifteen days old. From then on everything had just become worse, in his expert opinion.

The lack of sex made her irritable, a strict regime to regain her figure ruined meals more often than not and having her remaining family far from her had her at the brink of tears.

She had wanted to come to New York, stay with her family in 5th Avenue while he worked, but he had refused her suggestion because she was still recuperating from Rosie’s fucking awful birth.

Did it stop her from barging into his office today as if she weren’t still bleeding from the birth?

No, because here she was looking as stunning as always and angry at him for some fucking reason he cannot even begin to guess.

“What the fuck did I do this time, Evie?” he sits back and asks the woman who looks very close to committing violence.

“The Italians, did you have to fucking provoke them, Jack?” she answers throwing the black hand addressed to him.

His latest taunt was supposed to put the fear of God in them, let them fucking know Jack meant business.

Changretta had wrapped a garrote around his balls when he learned Laurie had gone off to die in France, said he’d make sure the Nelson name would die with him in that alley.

Now that the Spiniettas tried their hand at bootlegging, Jack had come to make Luca shit his tailor-made suit. The Irish gangster then told him all about the witch who not only gave him the boats the Italians were trying to use to smuggle booze from Europe but also had given Jack the three brats back-to-back.

And when you’re having Riccardo Spinietta ask where the shipment went, I’ll be fucking a fourth one into her, Jack had taunted as they left Luca barely alive at the docks.

“Congratulations on your daughter.” The threat was clear, and Jack supposed his wife had a reason to chew him out about it.

“If anything happened to you and the kids, I’ll fucking kill them.” He stayed seated already plotting how he’d wipe the wops off the face of the fucking earth for daring to come after his woman and children.

“Your police chief has been notified and until this is resolved, we are staying with my uncle. You are welcome to join us there, or not, I don’t give a shit.” Even despite the danger they are in, she’s still mad at him.

The witch straightened herself out as she made to leave his office, Jack took the chance to walk her out, to have an excuse to touch her even if its just a hand at the small of her back and a lukewarm kiss goodbye.

“Put a place for me at dinner then, Evie. We will talk about this later” He’ll deal with this later, when he can get her to talk freely and then remind her he loves her better than anyone else ever can.

For now, he settles by opening the door for her.

Instead of leaving Eva pulled him onto the threshold with trembling hands and forcefully shoved him against the doorframe seconds before a bomb went off in the street below.

He covered her as best he could as they braced for impact. The office is sturdy enough to withstand the damage and yet the screams he hears in the lobby below tell him that this bomb was meant for them.

The Black Hand had retaliated, the hand in their mail was a diversion. A way to get him to leave his office and be on the street when it happened.

They knew she’d confront him about it and would’ve taken both out had they been in the street.

It would be blamed on the Italian anarchists who sent their letters this morning while he was hiding in England after his failure.

Luca will be dead when he sets foot in American soil.

Eva’s given a sedative for her nerves and Jack a prescription for whiskey after being cleared of injuries.

“We’ll be fine, baby, we’ll take a trip somewhere until it passes. Just us and the babies.” He promised cradling her face and kissing her forehead as she sat there numbly on the hospital bed.

It wasn’t the first nor last attempt on her life, but this was the first time she didn’t want to die.

Knowing she had so much to live for had shaken her, knowing she had children who needed her, a family who would miss her had made her realize just how valuable her life was.

“How about Florida, we could rent the bungalow like we did on our honeymoon and just stay there where nothing can touch us.” Jack promised her the world and every problem had been forgotten.

But they still exist. Even if they are forgotten in the background.

“Yeah, let’s do that. Stay there for a while. I miss the sand and the sun so much.” She gave a small smile. “But tonight, we celebrate, we celebrate they didn’t kill us.”

A shame she still has some twenty days before she could fuck, nothing made her feel alive like having him between her legs in every position they could think of.

Instead, she settles for drinking enough to forget that morning even happened. Not that she can, motherhood and sobriety made her a lightweight and it’s not long before she’s being taken upstairs before she truly falls off the wagon.

Doesn’t work, never fucking works, or so she tells Jack who is still sober enough to throw her over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes.

“Have you forgotten what made you so mad at me?” he tossed her on the bed and spread her legs wide for him forgetting they can’t fuck. Something he should remember from last year when they couldn’t fuck on the kitchen table the Father’s Day after the twins were born.

“No.” the witch answered closing her legs and using this power she has over him to talk their shit out. “You keep me out of your business, and now we’re in danger because it didn’t occur you to ask your all-knowing wife what she thought of intercepting the liquor in her ships.”

“It’s a man’s world, sweetie, would make me, us, look weak if you got involved.” He said in his defense, still undressing to join her in bed thinking she’ll forget about this tomorrow when the hangover sets in.

“So? They’d regret it when they realize we’re un- fucking- touchable. Had it not been for me today you would have been blown to smithereens, sweetie.”

Eva then moved forward until she was kneeling at the edge of the bed and running her hands up his thighs until she reached his belt. So, she wasn’t supposed to have penetrative sex, but they never said she couldn’t use her hands or her mouth to keep Jack in line.

“I could’ve survived.” Jack’s hand comes under her chin and ran his thumb over her bottom lip tempting her into sucking it, as if he weren’t already straining in his pants at the mere idea of coming on her tits and face.

Her gringo loves her mouth, thanks god all her boyfriends are dead because he can’t have any man alive know her talents.

Eva wants to bite his finger off for dismissing her words and he knows it. She might even leave him like this for saying it, she’s done it before.

“Fine, we’ll give it a try, but I make all the final decisions and you won’t be on the payroll. If people catch wind of it, our enemies will too.” The thumb on her lower lip goes back to cradle her chin and forcefully tugged her face upwards to make him look in the eye as he gives his one-time offer. “Do you understand, doll, you play by my rules, or you don’t play at all.”

Well at least one good thing came out of today.

A/N: on September 16, 1920 (presumably) Italian Anarchists put a bomb in a cart at Wall Street, New York. There are conspiracies as to who did it because even now they can't actually confirm it was the Anarchists who did it.

Joe Kennedy happened to be in his office that day and was apparently blown back from the impact even it was across the street from the bomb, Jack here survived because Luca miscalculated how long they'd take in his office.

The idea for Luca and Jack’s rivalry is actually @thegreatdragonfruta idea.

[lucas-thee-unii]

((Let's try this again. Last time I had a blog Lucas, people kept sending me inappropriate images through DMs. I do NOT consent to DMs!!!! I am a minor and so is Lucas. He ages with me.))

((Info: Lucas will be written like a book with quotations and actions. I, Atticus, will be written OOC in double parentheses. Some info about Lucas has changed, including his appearance. This blog will only interact with a select few others for roleplay. The rest will be information on Lucas. Now onto the actual character.))

"Let's get back, I guess... Hi, I'm Lucas but some folks call me Botanika. Probably because my power is Botanokinesis. Uhh.. I'm part unicorn and I speak Scottish Gaelic, English, and some French. I also know ASL, which is convenient for when I shut down.. I'm a witch, I know big shocker, anyways, and I go by he/him pronouns. I think thats all I need to add...? Uhh.. Yeah, have fun?"

((DNI: MDNI blogs, NSFW blogs, Transphobic, homophobic, endos and their supporters, racists, pro-para, pro-pdf, turigirl, lesboy, m-spec/good faith, proshippers, people who take myths seriously, wiccans, abelists, and general bigots.))

((Art! TW: Blood and Animal Cruelty on last image!!))

((Some fun facts about Lucas!))

((Often sits by the oak in the back of the Institute.

Main classes are Science, math, psychology, and English.

Has a small part of his dorm set up for his athier. Almost like an altar.

Is trans masculine and often envies Morph’s ability to change shape.

During breakdowns, Lucas will touch his horn, memorizing the pattern almost.

Likes to paint, but will not admit it.

Often argues with Remy on how things should be cooked.

From West Virginia.

despite his mother being Greek and white, she was very close to Native culture, often appropriating it. To this day, Lucas will scowl at anything Native related in general stores (ex: White sage or Palo Santo in Walmart).

Has only seen his father’s herd twice in his life and has been trying to contact them again.

Only trusts Logan, Hank, Gambit, and Percy ( @lycaon-guerrero 's OC)

Often gets scared when he hears voices because he doesn’t know what DID is yet.

Genuinely believes he should isolate himself during meltdowns and breakdowns. Do not let him do this.

During sensory overloads, just turn off the lights, light a vanilla candle, and cover him with a weighted blanket with a stuffed animal. He’s better in like 10 minutes.

Genuinely scared of Jean. Though, that’s just doctors in general (despite trusting Hank).

Also plays the flute and won't admit it. If you listen closely around 2am you can hear a gentle melody. Assume this is Lucas.

Is a nature witch (big shocker lmao)

Hates it when people call him Wiccan. Will tell you straight to your face “you're a white supremacist, aren't you?”

If X-Men ‘97 wasn't set in 1997, bro would be drinking Monster day and night.

Any time it rains, he gets anxious from his time in hurricanes. He loves the sound of rain and distant thunder though.

Did less than ethical things to get money while in the streets. Refuses to talk about it.

Due to his BPD, Lucas will often snap at people. He will apologize unless he meant it. This usually happens within a 12 hour span.

Get this boy journals. He loves them. Will write in all of them.

Absolutely terrified of wasps.

Has a spray bottle of soapy water next to his bed at all times during the summer.

His powers have limits! His Botanokinesis only works if he's hydrated, has seeds or a part of a plant, and there needs to be somewhere to plant it. His healing factors are pretty slow, too. It takes about an hour for a broken bone to heal, unlike Logan, who can heal it within seconds. This means he DOES have scars. They take about 2-5 years to fade (depending on the severity).

Had his top-surgery done in a shady alley and it was infected for like a year. Not a fun time.

His athier died when he was only 11, leaving him with his mother for one before she kicked him out in the middle of Tennessee.

His accent comes out further when angry, groggy, or talking to someone with a similar accent.

If he was voice acted, his VA would be Ben Schwartz. Gotta stick to the blue with Benny boy 😌🙏(/j).

He's autistic, ADHDer, BPDer, has DID, C-PTSD, and chronic pains and fatigue.))

[scarlet--wiccan]

Have you seen the Mystic Mayhem stuff?

Mystic Mayhem is a mobile tactics RPG that was announced today on Marvel's website. The game is being developed by NetEase, who are also responsible for Super War and Rivals.

The game is centered an ongoing battle against Nightmare, and combat takes place in dungeons conjured from each character's dreams. Based on what little has been revealed, it seems like Doctor Strange and Sleepwalker will be leading the heroes in this fight, which is pretty neat-- Sleepwalker is a pretty niche character who hasn't had an ongoing title since the 90s, so this feels like an unexpected move, but I like that. We've also gotten a peak at some of the other characters who will be available in the game, and there are a lot of other cool deep-cuts and unexpected appearances, like Angela and Misty Knight. But for a game that's based on mystical themes and aesthetics, there aren't that many magic heroes or spellcasters, which is a little sad.

The overall design and animation style is very similar to Rivals, albeit with a slightly gothier, fantasy-anime bent. To be honest, that's kind of right up my alley, and I like most of the new character designs. Dreamqueen's new look is especially cool. I've seen a lot of people complaining about Wanda's look, mostly on the grounds that it's over-designed and the colors are too dark. Personally, I think it's more streamlined than her Rivals design-- the silhouette is simpler, as much closer to her classic costume, and I'm glad there aren't as many random spikes and armor pieces hanging off of her. The highly-detailed bodice and headpiece do feel overdone, in an M C U sort of way, but that's unfortuntely par for the course with NetEase.

The fact that she is wearing darker colors does not bother me at all. Wanda's had black and red costumes since the 90s, and I think it's been well-proven that she can pull off a gothier witch aesthetic. This is a bit more vampy than I'd like, but it suits the tone of the game. I'm not going to waste my time getting upset about it, and, at the risk of being rude-- if you're one of those people who has a conniption whenever Wanda's wearing red and black, rather than red and pink, grow up. Get some real priorities.

I do feel obligated to comment on her skin tone. It's hard to talk about this online these days-- a lot of people out there are determined to take the conversation in bad faith, and I've seen a lot of people on Twitter, especially, reduce it to tokenism and objectification. The subject is much more nuanced, so I want to remind people why it matters.

One, lightwashing has been a chronic issue in the comics industry for a very long time, and we know this is a result of racial bias. It is important for critics and consumers to be vocal about this, because it's the only way we've ever been able to ensure accountability. Two, whether you like it or not, redesigning the Maximoffs as visible people of color with brown skin was a positive step forward for inclusive Romani representation. Virtually every Roma character in Marvel and DC is drawn with white skin, and that is not an accurate reflection of the overall community. It is also a part of the manufactured ignorance about our ethnic and racial origins, which contributes to the whitewashing and erasure we see in the movies. Insisting that the character continue to be drawn this way is one of the ways we can push back against further erasure, and continue reminding people of what's wrong with the M C U version.

NetEase previously designed Wanda with brown skin in Marvel Rivals, so it is strange to see her looking quite pale here, but I think it is worth noting that her skin tone is much warmer than Stephen's and most of the other white characters. At least in her official art, anyway-- she's pretty washed out in the trailer. My assumption is that it's just the overall style and color palette of the game. That doesn't make it okay-- you can still render darker skin tones in a washed-out palette-- but it doesn't feel like they intentionally reverted to drawing her as a white woman.

[psychologeek]

So, I noticed something interesting:

I was asking people to come up with a name for "a program that specialises in therapy for criminals/villains/ anyone with legal problems. I have TBL (Therapy Beyond Law) but it feels lame".

And an interesting thing I found was that even though I didn't say anything about the program... Un village them.

Some of the offers included:

"Revive - Rehabilitating Every Villian Into Viable Employees"

LAW (Legal Aid for Wretches)/( Legal Aid for Workers)

Villain Anonymous

league of Super Enemy’s rehabilitated (LOSER)?

(I also got some interesting ideas! But that was a common thought)

Which is... weird. It could be on me, since I made it sound like it's a "villains' fix-it" , but my thoughts were based on some things:

Therapists have ethical codes, and in many places laws about having to report to the authorities. (Like if someone tell them they're gonna kill someone and have a plan, cases of child abuse, etc.)

What do criminals that require mental support do?

The mental equivalent of a "back alley doctor".

Like, this made up program is supposed to be where ppl who can't/doesn't want to go to therapy at someone with ethical/legal code can find help via this.

It's all distant-locarion based, like phone and Skype and Zoom, only their own kind. For security reasons. And it's firewalls all the ways down with the best hackers on the job and maybe some magic users and a cyborg?

Anyway -

It can doesn't have to be about crimes.

Honestly, most people come to talk about "normal" things, like depression and stress and relationships and all.

There are those who come because they don't want to be known by the government, bc of paranoia or witness protection or family or social issues.

There are metas, or magic users, or aliens - coming looking for a place to openly talk without the fear of being exposed or reported.

So you have a big ass, 7 feet green person talking about their body image issues and being rejected by society and everyone look at you with disgust and hating you because of your skin colour.

And you have an alien talking about cultural conflicts and physical differences and feeling isolated and alone. Or being turned between the people who raised you (that you love) but you want to know more about your birth family and don't want to upset them.

And a witch coming to tslk about how to come out to her mother - there's a lot of love there, but also a traditional family. And she laughs and telling you she doesn't know what would be harder for her mom - finding out her kid's a witch or finding out she's bi.

And of course, there are criminals. But most of them come for things like "How to improve my relationship with my kids" or getting help for depression or anxiety.

(sometimes they talk about crimes. But it's usually like "I have panic attacks since my car blew up. Why? Oh, bc I killed that monster's brother. Anyway, how can I go back to driving?" )

And there are, very few, like trafficers coming for things like "how to make the cargo last longer" and "sometimes they cry and it piss me off".

(which is... not something a usual supervisor can help you deal with.)

And sometimes they come bc more than one reason - bc a 7feet green person CAN'T find a "legal" job, so they also talk about hurting ppl.

And that alien might have a blue-and-orange morral, and is horrified by the whole concept of "burial", but also can't understand WHY he can't shape shift and look like someone else (exist) and the concept of identity theft.

Anyway. I'd love to hear your ideas/fics. Just please let me know if you write anything with this concept. Thank you 😊