#but I thought this was funny with how much she rags on wizards being weird lol

[pendragonbooks]

In which Sophie is horrified to discover she has been doing magic the whole time

[kerie-prince]

We're Worlds Apart (3)

Draco Malfoy x American No-Maj!reader

series m.list | general m.list | previous chp

warnings: cursing, angst(?), Draco being a meanie :(

summary: Draco Malfoy is a pureblood wizard. Magic runs through his veins and has been since his birth. You're a Wiccan No-Maj; a non-magical being with ordinary blood through your veins, but practices what you call magick. And this very practice upsets your neighbor.

a/n: not my best lmao kinda gets cheesy. anyways, Y/M/N = your mother’s name and Y/B/N = your brother’s name

(gif cred)

“Do I really have to get one?” Draco whined in the middle of the phone store, getting his very first cellular device.

“Yeah, man. It's 2008 and you still write letters. Plus, your bird took a shit on my car,” Blaine said matter-of-factly. He found it funny that Draco still used an owl post for communication; the only other person Blaine knew that still uses an owl is his 97 year old grandmother. And even she has a landline in her house. “It's just easier and quicker to use. Why wait a whole day for a letter when you can just text me and I’ll respond in two seconds?”

“I’ve never even used a wall phone, how do you expect me to use a bloody cell-phone, Blaine?” Draco was fidgeting in his seat as he waited for the store employee to finish, what was it called, a credit score? Muggles sure are weird.

She came back shortly with a small, black box that had a weird word on it. What the bloody hell is an iPhone? She explained how it turned on, all the applications it carried, and details about billing and more. Draco was still confused about the whole thing but Blaine said that he would help him understand it better.

“Well look at you, Dray. A modern wizard in America,” Blaine jokes. Draco played with the new device, working out all the kinks of it. He sent his very first text message to Blaine at that moment. Took him precisely 5 minutes to type out a very bland, simple ‘Hello. -Draco L. Malfoy’

It made Blaine laugh so hard that he held his stomach. “My god, we’re gonna have to work on your texting skills, man. First things first, you don't have to sign your name at the end of a text. I know it's you.” Blaine explained to Draco all the fundamentals of texting as they walked through the halls of Santa Marie.

Throughout the day, Draco shared his new number with his department. The more he shared his number, the faster he became at typing.

At the end of his shift, he went to a nearby restaurant where he usually picked up dinner —not one to know his way around the kitchen — and headed home.

It's been a good week for him; his mother had sent him a letter everyday, he finished setting up the guest room for Theo and Blaise, he has this new phone, and best of all, Y/N had not crossed his mind once.

Now he still hasn't accepted what she does in her free time, but also he realized that she’s not exactly harming him nor did she know what he was. He's usually busy with all the work he does, anyway. It was quite a sudden change of heart. But mostly, it was his mother that was able to talk to him and change his views.

My dearest son, had it been during the time before the war, I would have agreed with you. But you have to understand that things are different now. You're different now. Now I am not forcing you, but maybe you should just talk with her just once. If not, just ignore her. After all, she only lives next door.

When he read the letter, he could practically hear all of his friends telling him ‘She's right, you know.’ And deep down, he knew it too. So he went with her advice: ignore Y/N.

—

You’ve had a terrible week; your assistant manager forgot to count the inventory which meant she also forgot to make an order for inventory. A group of teens stole a bunch of little vials of oils you had put on display. And to top it all off, a man stood in front of your shop with signs that had biblical verses written on them, blocking the entrance way and essentially driving away any potential customers. You called security but they never came.

You were used to this happening, it's happened all your life. But that didn't mean that it didn't hurt. I'm not harming anyone, so why does this happen to me? Next week, your mother was flying in from Maine to look around the house to make sure nothing would ‘freak Stephanie out.’ 

Driving back home, you were just waiting to mix some bath salts in your tub, play music, and relax for the next couple of days. By sheer coincidence, as you pulled in you noticed your neighbor that you now knew as Draco pull into his driveway.

This week can't exactly get worse you thought as your legs carried you to his front door. With gentle knocks on the door, you waited patiently. Being rejected once more didn't bother you, but you at least wanted to hear him speak to you and try your chance to become better acquainted.

Draco opened his door, his tie was undone and he looked confusingly at you. “Can I help you?”

Panic overcame your senses and without thinking, you blurted out, “Do you hate me?” You noticed his shocked face as it was probably not something he expected to hear.

“Excuse me, what exactly are you talking about?” he asked in his entrancing British accent. It was too late to take it back, so you just kept going with it. “I’m sorry, but you moved in here four months ago and you seem to have made friends with everyone around here but for some reason, you won’t even say ‘hi’ to me. Did I offend you or something?” You sounded exhausted and sad. Not only at the week you just had, but how Draco wasn’t being so neighborly with you as he was with everyone else on the street. It bothered you so much to no end. And the most frustrating thing was that you didn’t understand why.

“Uh, I apologize that we haven’t been on speaking terms but I don’t think I have to talk to you now, do I?” Draco scoffed. Why is he being such a jerk? “I’m not saying that you have to talk to me, but it’d be nice if you could at least wave or something. But instead, you look at me funny and ignore me. It’s kinda rude.” 

“Merlin, you muggles are so temperamental.” Draco said under his breath. The word sounded funny to you.

“Muggles? Did you just call me a muggle?” The look on Draco’s face didn’t go unnoticed. He stared at you for a few moments, not saying anything. What does that mean? “Is that what you call Americans in the UK? Doesn’t really sound nice.”

Draco started laughing mockingly at you, his grip on his door tightening and knuckles turning white, “Look, I don’t understand what it is exactly you want from me but I will say this; the fact that you are so offended that I won’t acknowledge you is honestly quite fucking childish and if you couldn’t get the hint then I’ll say it plainly for you now. I don’t. Wish. To. Be. Friends. With. You. Got it?” and with that, he slammed the door in your face.

Groaning out, you yelled at him through his door, “Fuck you then! I don’t wanna be friends with some rude prick!” You ran to your door and slammed it pretty hard. The sudden noise frightened your cat and made her run from her tower into your room. What the fuck is his deal? 

You walked to your room, pissed off and tired. Looking up, you saw Draco in his room. You stared each other down before you walked up to your window to close your blinds, flipping him off before it fully closed. Afterwards, you took a regular shower and went to bed. Anger built up inside you, and for probably the first time, you hated another human being. And you had to live next to him for god knows how long.

-

“I mean, did you really have to say that to her?” Ian and Ashley had just listened to Draco explain what had happened the night before. Ian just sat in the chair eating his lunch as Ashley responded to him. “I know things might be different in England, but you should’ve given her a chance. She could be nice. I have a couple No-Maj friends on my block.”

“I’m on Ash with this. Is it really all because she’s Wiccan? Be honest, Dray,” Ian chipped in. At that point, Draco didn’t really know what to say. He thought he could look past it, but he couldn’t. “Maybe, yeah. I come from two families that had very strict traditions and views of muggles. I thought I dropped those views but seeing first hand what they do and-”

“And it makes you feel like a freak? Because you’re a real wizard that can do magic and they sit in some weirdly drawn circle and ‘do’ magic?” Ashley finished Draco’s sentence, making quotation marks with her hands. “I get it, I really do. I was offended too when I had to read about No-Maj’s doing this during school. And then to see movies where witches are viewed as ugly, green-skinned hags with warts on her face and wear rags for clothes. Kinda brings you down as a kid. But I got over it. You should, too.” Ashley held Draco’s hand for a bit before she grabbed her coffee mug and left for her appointments.

Ian sat quietly, watching as Draco was sinking in everything he was advised. “Look man, it’s not really my business to be telling you what you should or shouldn’t like, and who you should or shouldn’t like. And you know what, you’re not exactly in the wrong to get mad about what happened. After all, she just kinda picked a fight with you out of nowhere.” Draco had a face that looked as if he was saying ‘Right? I’m not crazy here’

“But,” of course there’s a ‘but’, “from what I hear around the street, Y/N’s really nice. Super weird for sure, but an overall nice person. I think you should think about it.” Ian nodded at Draco before joining Ashley out of the breakroom. Draco sat there, thinking about what his friends said and also thought back to his mother’s letters. I’m such a child. And I’m the one that called her childish. If he was honest, you were but it didn’t make him better.

He knew what he was going to do after work. It pained him to have to apologize to someone. Apologizing wasn’t something he was exactly used to doing. He’s only done it once to Harry and his friends nearly three years after the Battle. He didn’t even really know what to say to you. But he’ll figure it out. Right?

-

You stood shocked at your doorstep, hands holding onto the sweater as you looked before you. “Mom, you’re here early.”

“I had been given an extra week off of work so I thought I’d just come and see my oldest baby before your brother and Stephanie comes. Also gives me a head start to plan our dinner and get this house situated,” your mother walked past you with her two large luggage cases and dropped them on your living room floor. She looked around the house and eyed all the decorations and pictures on the walls.

To her, everything was nearly normal. You had family pictures posted and some pictures of you and your friends from college. In the living room, you had a tapestry hung up behind your couch that used to belong to your grandmother. “Y/N please, will you take down that blanket? Why don’t you put up a picture of some flowers, or maybe something abstract?”

“Because I don’t want a picture of flowers and that’s not a blanket. It was Grandma’s. I want it hung up there. Ma, you gotta understand that it’s my house now.” Your arms were crossed due to the cold. You had the day off and tried to spend it well as you did your cleansing spell in the morning, but it seems that it wasn’t very effective seeing as your mother came in and immediately started nitpicking everything.

“It was cute in your room when you were a kid. But you’re 26 now. How would your boyfriend feel if he walked in here and thought ‘oh, didn’t know I was dating a 16 year old.’” Her constant criticism was nearly pushing you to the edge. “Ma, I don’t really want to argue with you tonight so I’m just going to bed-” a doorbell rang throughout the house and you were thanking whoever was listening for giving you a reason to walk away from your mother. 

As soon as you opened the door, you were met with another face that you weren’t exactly excited to see. “Can I help you?” you repeated Draco’s words from last night back at him in a spiteful tone.

Through gritted teeth, he looked at you and said, “I just wanted to tell you that I’m sorry for being an arse yesterday. I hope we can look past it and become well-acquainted neighbors.”

“Huh, you’re sorry? You don’t really sound it.”

“I know, I’m not really used to doing this,” Draco quipped. “But nonetheless, I would still like to apologize.”

“Yeah, whatever, I’m sorry too.” You were about to close the door until your mother came up and pushed the door completely open, “Honey, who’s at the door- oh! Hello, I’m Y/M/N. And you are?” She looked at Draco with the nicest smile that you had ever seen on her.

“Hello, My name’s Draco. Nice to meet you,” he awkwardly shook your mother’s hand. He didn’t smile, but he also didn’t have the usual scowl on his face when he would look at you. Guess he does have manners. “Y/N, is this a friend of yours?” your mother insinuated with a less than discreet wink. Without missing a beat, you replied, “No. Ma, this is my new neighbor. I just met him. But it’s late, so nice meeting you Draco. See you around.” And you closed the door.

“That was rude, Y/N. You should have invited him in. He’s very cute,” your mother grabbed her bags and headed into the guest room. From a distance, you could hear your mother speak to herself, saying ‘At least this room looks normal’. “It’s kinda late. Besides, we have all the time in the world to talk.” 

You walked to your small closet and grabbed the special bath salts for stress relief and walked to your bathroom. Starting to strip, your mother barged in. “Ma! Privacy, please!”

“Don’t be ridiculous, Y/N. I gave birth to you. Anyways, how long has it been since he moved in? Do you think he knows about your witchy stuff?” She asked as she stood by the door, checking her reflection as you continued to undress for your bath. “I don’t really hold a sign around my neck that says I’m a Wiccan, Mother,” you said with closed eyes. Your mother said, “I hope not. Night, baby,” and closed the door.

This is going to be a long three weeks.

-

The morning came and you woke up before your alarm and did your daily routine. The only difference was that your mother was going through your pantry looking for ingredients to make breakfast. “Morning, honey. Do you want some pancakes? I’ll make your favorites! It’s still blueberry, right?”

“No, that was Y/B/N. Mine are chocolate chip and peanut butter.” You said flatly as you grabbed your watering can. “Oh that’s right. But I already bought the blueberries.”

“That’s fine, they still taste good.” Your mother was satisfied with your response and started right away. You walked out to your front yard and watered your plants along the fence. The betony plants were beautiful, its sight was calming your nerves as you poured water over them. The sound of a door closing caused you to look up, watching Draco as he was standing in his yard with what seemed like a cigarette attached to his lips before he took it out and placed it onto an ashtray that was on his porch.

He walked over to the fence that separated your yards. The smell of the cigarette was in the air and it reminded you of your late father. “I meant it last night,” he mentioned his apology. You didn’t really know what to say so you just nodded and went back to watering your plants.

“But if I recall, you did start that fight,” he chuckled. You glared up at him for a few seconds before returning to your task. “Alright, I guess I’m sorry too.” Draco scoffed and just whispered ‘Whatever’ and walked away. “Wait,” you called for him before he walked back into his house and luckily, he stopped. “I’m sorry,” you said with sincerity. “Can we just start over?”

He stared at you, visibly contemplating your question then finally said, “Sure.” He walked into his house and you stood shocked in your yard. Your mother walked out and announced to you, “Honey! Breakfast is ready! Come on, I think your plants are watered enough.” With the snap of your screen door, you were released from your daze and walked inside. Maybe this week is turning around after all.

-

Draco sat in his room, not exactly sure what exactly happened. Was he really going to try and become friends with a muggle? He could imagine the look on his fathers face. Just because he had lost in the Battle, didn’t mean that he magically accepted muggles and muggle-borns. Narcissa didn’t like them much either but she also didn’t hate them as Lucius did.

This would shock not only his parents, but also his friends, Blaise and Theo. Merlin, the person that would probably have a field day about this would be Hermione Granger. He sat there, imagining Granger either laughing at him or cursing him after all the bullying he put her through. All those years of calling her a mudblood and he becomes friends with a muggle. A No-Maj. A Wiccan No-Maj. But then he thought about what Ian said at work. Y/N is really nice. Weird, but nice. And when he agreed to having a fresh start with you, he figured that it would give you a chance to prove him wrong about what you were like.

Or she could be exactly what I always thought muggles to be. Foolish.

—

next chp

(っ◔◡◔)っtaglist: @beiahadid @malfoy-styles-wife @fivenightslaughter @juneballoon999 @leydileyla @fangirlanotherjust @originalsoulcollector @opiomancy @lipstickandloveletters

[helly-watermelonsmellinfellon]

Fantastic Beasts: CoG Thoughts and Observations

*SPOILERS* Press ‘J’ if you want to skip to the next post.

Grindelwald is a badass. I don’t even like him and yet he’s a fucking badass. He was in fucking prison for 6 months and they had to change his guards multiple times because he’s so damn charismatic that he kept luring the Aurors to his side!

He then got out long before he was supposed to be transported and literally took out everyone on the transport team. And he drove the damn carriage and without even looking behind him, directed bolts of lightning to take out some of the Aurors on their brooms.

He did not come to play.

Newt is still my adorable child. He’s so awkward and still feels like he did in the first film which is great. A lot of people whined about how he wasn’t ‘manly enough’. Because Newt shows compassion on the regular and is more soft-spoken and not interested in ‘manly professions’ or some shit, so he doesn’t fit the ridiculous type of masculinity Hollywood shoves down our throats and dudebros can’t relate to him.

“There are no strange creatures, only wicked people,” is a great line and should be used in reference to animals as well since some people still walk around acting like sharks and pitbulls are evil incarnate. I really love Newt.

Leta knows him well enough to know what he’d say in response to her comment. They have an awkward air of camaraderie about them.

Newt stood up to a teacher with that line of his and got a month’s worth of detention. Leta left a dungbomb in his office to get back at him so she could join Newt. Good friends fight the intolerant assholes in charge of your education together.

Theseus gives off this smarmy vibe. I seen people praise him as a good brother but at present just the way he stands annoys me. And it makes me sad that Newt feels like he can’t be himself in order to be rightfully treated like a human being should be treated.

The dude playing Theseus really does resemble Eddie though, so props for getting that right at least. I can believe they’re siblings.

As usual the Ministry is useless. Grindels is literally the reason NYC got fucked up. Him and his messing with Credence. Newt made some mistakes but actually worked to fix them and then saved all their asses in the process. Why is he getting blamed with misinformation? Even in the 20s Magical Britain’s Ministry is full of morons.

There’s a black dude in a high Ministry position. I think there are more POC in this film than all the HP films combined, jfc. ‘bout time!

Also, they never told Newt that Credence is alive and are now using that fact as a way to try and guilt-trip him into joining the Ministry. Cleverish I suppose, but I still don’t like them.

Some dude just referred to Credence as an IT. wtf? Credence is a wizard who, because magical people suck at getting abused children the help they need, ended up a massive mess. He’s not some thing to be treated like shit!

The brothers are arguing and Newt starts spouting off things he’s mostly likely heard from Theseus and his parents. I will admit Theseus seems less annoying now that he’s spoken a bit, but the fact that Newt starts saying, “Okay, right, here we go, selfish, irresponsible-” speaks of somebody who is used to being compared to another and having what others consider to be ‘faults’ shoved in his face and complained about. That sucks a lot.

Okay, Theseus isn’t as annoying as I expected him to be. He does seem to care for Newt and understand how his mind works to an extent. He isn’t offended that Newt doesn’t go to hug him back. Newt is just awkward with physical contact from humans. He’s always seemed to be on the spectrum for me and I’ve only recently found out that others feel the same, which makes his character more interesting imo.

Grindels is in lift shoes! Needs that extra height that badly? 5′10 isn’t short or anything but he really needed that lift to 6′0″? XD

At least Grindels and the Gang are only using AKs(silently btw). I don’t get why everyone always acts like AK is the absolute worst spell in HP when literally it’s just a quick and painless death. There are a bajillion others spells that are actually terrifying.

Newt easily noticing that he’s being followed and fucking with his stalker is the best. People who say Newt is weak are effin stupid.

I would not take the hand of some random glove hovering in my face. Now way, no how. idc who it might belong to, that’s some shady shit. I don’t trust people.

Though we have to admit that the glove forcibly Apparating him, even if it’s a small distance is pretty cool. Dumbles annoys me but as Phineas Nigellus will say in the future, “He’s got style.”

The fact that Newt knew it was Dumbles makes me wonder if Dumbles has done this before.

Dumbles literally just summoned a big ass fog to cover the city! I don’t like him but he keeps impressing me! It’s annoying! Stop it!

“A Phoenix will come to any Dumbledore in desperate need.” Interesting.

A wizard doing sleight of hand. Oi vey. Dumbles is a drama queen to the umpteenth degree.

God he was a cryptic asshat even back then. It’s very easy to believe this dude becomes the Dumbledore we all know. I think people are just bitching because they refuse to see Dumbledore for who he is. Lots of people whining about ‘how manipulative Jude’s Dumbledore is’ not realizing that HP-Dumbles is literally a Master Manipulator.

Baby Nifflers are effin adorable and I love how well Newt knows them!

Newt literally has someone working for him. And he’s been nothing but reassuring in his own way. He especially tells her to avoid the Kelpie because he doesn’t want her to get hurt. I have seen several people whining about him ‘being mean’ to her and I just have to ask, are y’all fucking stupid? He knows his creatures and when he tells her to not go near one alone because of how dangerous it is and she might lose a finger, he’s not being mean. He’s being a responsible employer. I know some of your bosses don’t give a shit about your well being, but Newt is actually a decent bloke. Chill the fuck out.

She’s flirting with him and is really bad at it. But it’s kinda funny at the same time.

Also can we just stop and talk about how talented Newt is that he can create such realistic habitats in such seemingly small and cramped places? He’s really good at magic.

Queenie and Jacob are cute. And to all the people whining about how ‘unnecessary’ he is to the plot, can y’all chill? He is there for a reason. To show how fucked up MACUSA is when it comes to dealing with Muggles. Queenie will literally be imprisoned if they find out she’s with a Muggle. It’s ridiculous and his character is supposed to show how even the American wizards are messed up.

Queenie calling Newt, ‘honey’ is sweet. I swear she’s the Molly of this new group of friends. Seems like she wants to take care of people and just adopts everyone who comes along.

God, even the magical gossip rags are shit even back then. They deliberately made it so it looked as if Newt and Leta were a thing. Though tbh nothing really happened between Newt and Tina in the first film so her being all offended over him possibly marrying another woman is ridiculous.

These weird shots that are supposed to be directly from someone’s point of view are a bit annoying, I must admit. It’s kind of like watching through a somewhat less annoying fish-eye lens, but still annoying anyway.

Newt is very smart. He notices very quickly that Jacob is out of sorts and that he hasn’t been acting normally. He deduces very quickly that something is up and then stops it.

I really like how level-headed Jacob is about everything considering all the crap he’s just thrown into. He cares enough about Queenie to not want her to be imprisoned/possibly killed for breaking a stupid law. I got really emotional at that part because MACUSA is full of idiots.

Jacob is right though, she’s not being sensible. There’s a lot at stake and it isn’t smart for them to marry yet no matter how much they want to. 

Jacob looks at the bird thing and then’s just like, “I got my own problems.” He’s been through enough shit to just not care atm.

And now everyone’s basically going to Paris anyway.

Walking through weird barriers into new places should no longer impress me but it still does!

The magical circus looks kind of awesome but the I’m also not a fan of how circuses are handled. So it’s this cross between amazement and annoyance at the inhumane way animals(in this case creatures) are being handled.

Literally, they are kept locked up in filthy places, I am unhappy! Also Claudia Kim, who portrays Nagini, is so very beautiful and I am so very gay.

Nagini’s hair has that little serpent-like curl at the end as it rests against her neck. It’s such an awesome little detail to throw in there.

Her transformation is really cool btw.

Wow! You treat the creatures like shit and mock them, and get all confused when they attack you? I hope pain was dealt.

What is it with all the bad guys in everything having to incorporate skulls into their dirty business? Is this supposed to be a play on the whole skulls and crossbones thing meaning death?

Though Grindels does make it more interesting than some wiggly tattoo at least.

Dumbles is considered the greatest threat to his cause when he’s practically been doing nothing but playing teacher. That’s some high praise I suppose.

He’s already known as ‘The Great Albus Dumbledore’! What did he do to gain such belief in his prowess? He’s like 46!

Newt’s asking Jacob for advice on what to say when he sees Tina again, and Jacob gives him great advise. “Best not to plan these things.” It’s good. And then Newt’s like, “She has eyes just like a salamander,” and Jacob’s tune changes immediately! XD “Don’t say that!”

Jacob is a good friend. I really like him!

Jacob’s reactions are the greatest because he’s literally like an in-universe representation of the fandom when we saw magic in the movies for the first time!

Do people know that Eddie Redmayne actually licked the ground?

Newt talking about how narrow Tina’s feet are and Jacob just being like, ‘okaaaaaaay’ is the best!

Queenie must be so lost. Hearing all these thoughts and not knowing the language they’re in. And it must be stressful to not only be in an unfamiliar place but also be completely unprepared for everything going on.

That is the perfect moment to trick her. Literally, I don’t get how people can’t see that she’s emotionally vulnerable and a prime target for manipulation right now.

Credence is just a mess. He needs friends. Glad Nagini seems to be filling in that role but honestly he needs a few more. Those who are ‘cursed’ in essence, like he is. So they’ll understand him.

I really love Jacob’s character. He’s just so amazed by magic and all the things it can do. ^-^

Newt! Knows how to tame and capture creatures he’s never even met before! Zuowus are cute imo.

Hedwig’s Theme, I am crying!

Also, Hogwarts brings back my feels.

Very confused about the McGonagall thing unless this involves time-travel which idk how advanced that was at the time.

The fucking Aurors just break into the class and Head dude’s like, “I can go wherever I please. OUT!” And all the kids just standing there and look to Dumbledore for direction. It’s fucking hilarious that they won’t even listen to the dude who could imprison them with whatever excuse he can make up. 

Now, there seems to be students of all ages in this classroom, which makes me wonder if it’s actually a class or Dumbledore has a Dueling Club set up, because he’s literally teaching a Gryffindor how to not make the same mistakes in a duel, right before owning his ass. idc what anyone says, no class of 17/11 year olds will have multiples students the size of first/seventh years in it. People are either really really tall or really really short. So I vote for a Dueling Club happening.

The Gryffindor who just lost the duel gets up in the dude’s face and is like, ‘he’s the best teacher we’ve got’. Props.

Dumbledore is way better than this Travis dude. And I mean by power and presence. I don’t like him any more than I do the Travis dude. Meaning not at all, But you get what I mean. Dumbles is far better for the good guys than this hoity toity asshat who thinks that because he’s Head Auror he can do anything he wants. Him ignoring Dumbledore’s warning is going to get a lot of people killed.

“We were closer than brothers.” How else can anyone take that? What is closer than a familial tie? A romantic one! Duh!

He’s banned from teaching DADA. But he isn’t banned from teaching any other class! Travis should have been more specific! This is probably how Dumbledore ended up teaching Transfiguration during Tom’s time at school since he doesn’t fight Grindels until 1945. I love loopholes!

Are the candles in the Great Hall just lit all the time?

I for one, think that ‘Talk Shit, Get Hit’ is a very wonderful saying to take to heart. So when people were talking shit about Leta, she damn well deserved to tear them a new asshole over it! I applaud her for cursing that gossiping little bitch’s mouth shut in the corridor. She deserved it. I am a blood-thirsty bitch!

Young-Newt literally looked like a young Eddie Redmayne. Superb casting on that part, God damn! He even got all of Eddie’s chosen mannerisms down!

You know, I’m not shocked that Leta’s being harassed by Gryffindors. The whole school treats Slytherins like shit the moment they’re Sorted. Even when they aren’t raised on the magical side and know nothing about Slytherin’s reputation.

I have mentioned how annoying I find the weird fish-eye-like lens view, right? ‘Cause it’s annoying me again.

BTW, I will always firmly believe that Hufflepuff/Slytherin friendships are the strongest. That is a deadly combination right there.

Albus admits that he didn’t love Ariana as much as he should have. Age does somewhat remove that veil from the eyes, doesn’t it?

I really, honestly think that people just decided that anythngn they saw in this movie was going to be horrible and that’s why y’all are being a bunch of whiny bitches over everything. Queenie didn’t just up and decide hey, I’m joining Grindels! She’s honestly at the end of her rope and is getting manipulated. Y’all are fucking ridiculous. Don’t pay for tickets if you intend to find fault in everything the movie has to offer.

The good sis stands up and points her wand at Grindels despite knowing full well she wouldn’t be able to do shit to him. Temerity ftw.

You gotta give Grindels some props. This dude knows how to play on everyone’s soft points. He just sees them and immediately goes in for the kill. Was Voldy like this in the 70s? It makes more sense that people would follow him if he acted like this before ‘dying’ the first time. ‘Cause after his resurrection he wasn’t follow-worthy imo. Too frantic and mad to take seriously.

He literally tells her that she’s an ‘innocent’ and that ‘he doesn’t wish her harm’. He then tells her to leave, which puts her under the impression that she’s safe from him and can make her own choices. This is a prime manipulation tactic because she’ll come back eventually once she remembers that he supposedly gave her a choice and no one else will. She told Jacob he wasn’t giving her a choice, and now Grindels, the supposed bad guy, is doing just that. And he makes it like he understands her suffering in her desire for love without restriction. Even good guys make mistakes. Y’all want to kiss Dumbledore’s ass for every shit thing he did by saying he was trying to save the world, so you can get over Queenie having a lapse of judgment during an emotionally and mentally trying period.

Ah, the Mirror of Erised, in which you see your heart’s greatest desire. And Dumbledore sees him and Grindelwald alone.

Also, I’m just saying that pressing their hands together would have been enough to make the blood mix. Linking their fingers is not necessary at all.

Finally it’s just Grindelwald as he currently is, staring him down with an innocent expression. And Dumbledore’s sad smile is the only thing we see as the scene fades to black.

Newt is so good with creatures, I love him!

Every time he comes out of that case I am reminded of how slight Eddie is.

Newt asks Jacob to get the tweezers from his bag, but after the mishaps in the last film where British and American English were proven to be different to a degree, he goes on to explain what they look like and both Tina and Jacob are like ‘we know what they are, dude’. XD

They disinfect the unconscious dude, Tina gets her info and heads off. And Jacob tries to get her to come back and then looks at Newt and is all, “You didn’t mention salamanders, did you?”. XD

Upon Jacob’s insistence he goes after Tina and tells her she’s different from other Aurors because she’s got Middle Head, in reference to the middle head of a Runespoor which is said to be a Visionary/Dreamer and doesn’t argue like the heads on either side of it. Tina doesn’t want to kill Credence like everyone else which makes her a different kind of Auror.

So that whacky black shroud that covers the city is Grindels’ way of calling his peeps together?

Grindels’ appears before Credence and tells him he ‘wants nothing from him and wants everything for him, that Grindels never had’. He and Dumbles are perfect for each other. Master Manipulators. A certain kind of Dynamic Duo. Grindels even uses the whole ‘my boy’ thing!

The shot is on Jacob. His stomach growls and it pans down and then up. And Flamel is right behind him when it comes back up! Shit like that always gets me in films! The only kind of jumpscare I’m not into. I don’t like my back being exposed so shots like this kill me.

The Flamels don’t keep food in their house. What exactly was the exchange for living so long? Like, I just thought the Stone kept them youthful and stopped their aging, you know? Apparently they have no need of food. Wouldn’t living that long be boring as hell when you can’t even enjoy the basics of life?

“You don’t look a day over 375.” I love Jacob! XD

Seriously though. Nicki looks like he’ll fall apart at any moment. Is living forever like this really worth it?

Nicki “Hasn’t seen action in 200 years,” OMG!

Newt Polyjuices himself into looking like Theseus and calls him ‘an Auror and a hugger’ in this long-suffering but fond tone.

Theseus and Leta are literally right there too!

It was all going so well and then Theseus looks down and isn’t it always like that? The plot must continue on somehow? I’m dying! XD It was a good plan until that happened.

Tina gets him down with a flick of the wand? The War Hero? Really? Good for her!

Newt is such an awkward turtle. I love that they didn’t insist upon Eddie changing up the way he portrays him!

Newt describes Tina’s eyes as “Having and effect in person. Like fire in water, dark water,” and if that isn’t the nicest way to describe dark brown eyes idk what is. HE’S TRYING SO HARD NOT TO SAY THE SALAMANDER LINE! XD

SHE SAID IT INSTEAD! XD How she got that I have no idea. I don’t know shit about salamanders.

And Leta finds them and runs with them. I wonder if Tina is feeling awkward.

He’s known the Zouwu for so little time and it’s already cuddling up to him! The Snow White of fucking wizards, everyone! He is a cinnamon roll and must be kept safe!

Honestly I am proud I kept up with the whole Lestrange family tree business because holy shit it was convoluted!

The Lestranges are so sexist. Only the men get recorded on the family tree, what bullshit. Leta’s father Raped her mother via Imperius and never loved her. Frankly, a child being jealous of a new sibling that he did love shouldn’t be surprising. Kids make mistakes all the time and hating her for making a rash decision she didn’t fully understand at that age, is ridiculous. She didn’t even mean to get him killed. It’s not like she’s some super horrible person for that.

Newt gets this! He literally gets it! And she tells him “You’ve never met a monster you couldn’t love”. I hurt. She’s not a monster, she’s a fucking human being who made a grave mistake when she was like 7 and it haunted her for the rest of her life.

Nagini doesn’t trust Purebloods because, “They kill the likes of us for sport”. Her life must have sucked.

And here’s where is all leads up to. The literal Crimes of Grindelwald. And not in the sense of law-breaking, although there has been a lot of that. The title means in reference to an act of of great offense which isn’t illegal but still considered morally reprehensible, against another person or persons. He’s spent this whole time manipulating the hell out of everyone and doing things both illegal and simply sinful. Lying isn’t against the law, but the way he’s doing it is wrong, and it helps him commit his ‘crimes’.

Also what the hell is with evil people and graveyards/tombs? Is this a requirement in joining the dark side?

Grindels finds muggles “Not disposable but of a different disposition.” He’s really workin’ it because he knows the kinds of people who showed up to this little speech thing of his and he’s getting all of them at once.

He’s literally showing them a vision of what will happen in WWII with the bombs in order to scare them into joining his side. It’s what will ‘rise up’ from the muggles, and Jacob understands it instantly. Scare tactics ftw! He has a point in a sense. Could we really say that the leading governments of our world wouldn’t try to enslave magicals in order to have the most power over all other countries?

The Aurors are called down to face the crowd and Grindels knows just what to say to stir up feelings of distrust. Though they’re cops so it’s not shocking. They’re all power-hungry and with the experience a lot of the people have with Aurors, plus Grindels sweet-talking them all, of course some chick just up and moves against them and get murdered on the spot. Not even detained. Cops kill first and ask questions later, not shocking magic ones do the same.

Auror used an AK without hesitation. But you know, everyone says that is the most evil spell in HP, right? And no one, not even Aurors, should use it?

And as expected, it all plays in Grindels’ plans. I’m not shocked. “Spread the word. It is not we who are violent.” Right after an Auror just murdered someone. Talk about playing on the emotions.

The fire Grindels’ conjures is blue, compared to normal fire. Which means it’s hotter. Voldy’s fire was also blue. Is this just because they’re magically powerful or are both Dark Lords?

Grindelwald uses magic like he’s a conductor. It’s interesting because everyone else but Voldy has only ever had a death grip on their wands. Voldy holds his wand more gracefully and loosely.

Nagini does not side with Grindelwald. And she has a point. He knows what Credence is, not who he is.

Okay, so a lot of people died in the blue fire, but Newt was able to hold the fire off from consuming him several times. My child is so powerful! He’s just never violent with it! *APPLAUSE*

Queenie’s desperation makes me so sad. She and Jacob love each other but go about it very differently.

I can’t tell if Leta was saying ILY to Newt or Theseus. Maybe to both but with different meanings? Romantic Love isn’t the only kind of love out there. One is her long-time friend whom she could have romantic feelings for if their bond is deep enough. The other is her fiance though her bond with him doesn’t seem that deep. Confusing and shot deliberately like that to confuse us too.

She tries to kill Grindels knowing it won’t work. I like Leta. I don’t get why people don’t like her.

He’s literally using his fancy Fiendfyre to destroy Paris. This dude aims big!

Flamel is a genius and a bunch of people, most who aren’t trained Aurors, just had to put out some powerful magic that would have destroyed a whole city.

Newts hugs Theseus!

The Niffler lives and got the Blood Pact thing from Grindels! How did he not notice it?

Queenie’s skills are very useful to Grindels in how to deal with Credence without scaring him off. He knew what he was doing in manipulating her to his side.

Grindels and Dumbles agreed not to fight one another. Wonder what would happen if they turned their wands on each other with intent to do harm. Pain? Or maybe... their spells being directed elsewhere by some unseen force and hitting nearby things(*cough* Ariana *cough*)? 

So here’s where I am confused but I have many thoughts. A.) Percival Dumbledore died some time after 1890 but no date is given. He was in Azkaban during the time and immoral things happen in prison. He could be the father. B.) Kendra Dumbledore died in 1899 and Credence was born ‘circa’ 1901(meaning around that time frame but no specific details are known) so she could have birthed him. Albus wouldn’t know since he wasn’t very present at home and was distant to his siblings. Kendra isn’t actually a Dumbledore but she had the name, Credence doesn’t know the details, and Grindels could have sent the Phoenix in some way. C.) Grindels is just lying altogether but he’s really believable. D.) He used the word ‘brother’ to mean family, like how he addressed the people as his ‘brothers and sisters’. His fellow magical people. So perhaps he meant as in like Credence’s kin. So he could be a child of Aberforth who would be old enough to sire a child(teens do it all the time), or of their Aunt Honoria who could have had a kid for all people know.

Dumbles is the one to tell us all about the Phoenix thing first. Grindels strengthens that fact later on, making it not just some children’s tale. It’s all left to us to wonder if he’s lying about Credence or not.

I observed a lot.

So for the cinematography, it was really well done save for the fish-eye lens crap. I really didn’t like that. But I am a sucker for panning from above. Also clever use of the camera while certain people speak. Angles can do wonders to tell a story.

I thought the plot was very easy to follow. I’ve seen people whine about it not making sense but literally, in stories about multiple people, the POV shifts. A lot. In order to understand why everyone is doing what they are doing, you need to know what is going on from their ends. So yeah, why is everybody just randomly in France of all places? Paying attention lets you find out!

I do have one really big annoyance and it’s more for it taking this long instead of it happening at all. In the original HP films there really aren’t a lot of non-white actors portraying characters, even if they’re just extras to fill in for other students and such. In this film there were extras of all kinds of nationalities. I saw a lot of Black and Asian folks just filling up the background. And I’m glad the universe now seems more realistic and diverse. It’s just annoying that the most diverse of all the films in this fictional world, is the newest one and kinda makes the others a bit disappointing since the 20s were less progressive than the 90s.

My initial opinions on certain characters did change. Naturally I hate Dumbledore as a character no matter what but he’s more interesting than before. And I don’t really like Grindels all that much but he is a badass and watching him is interesting. Theseus and Leta grew on me with such little time. I cried for both of them. I’m disappointed but not shocked or angry at Queenie’s actions. I cried for her too. Flamel creeps me out still. I like Nagini. She’s been through some tough shit and is mildly distrustful of everyone. And now she’s away from possibly her only friend(I got not romance vibes between she and Credence btw).

I liked all the story-telling. There were a lot of creatures. A lot of talking. A decent amount of action. And humor spread out here and there for some levity.

I thought it was a fine film. It was good. I’d re-watch it with the first without hesitation. I had moments where I laughed, moments where I cried, and moments where I wasn’t sure what I was feeling at all.

Grade: A

[shadowyryot]

Paying the Price

{I collected the soul as well as a few bags of liquor, weed, and gossip rags, then began the trek skyward. It was a weird way to travel to get from Hell to Heaven, there were a lot of twists and turns along the way because neither wanted anyone to accidentally stumble into the realms. You had to know where to look, which shimmer in the space just out of the corner of your eye, follow that low hum that seemed to come from nowhere, ignore that instinct that tells you to turn away. All of those were signs you were close to a pathway. None were direct even if one managed to stumble onto one. It had taken me decades to memorize the route I had, and even that changed slightly each time. It was almost like the moving staircases in that wizard movie that was so popular. Again, I just had to remember what to look for because that always stayed the same. Even if it was two lefts instead of a left and a right or duck under the limb of the old elm tree rather than hop over it. I never figured out who was responsible for guarding or changing the pathways, whether it was my side or those above. Maybe this was one of those weird things they worked together on, who knows. Either way, I had learned to navigate the system which allowed me to smuggle things in and out of both places for favors.  Some things earned me a healthy payday but this was definitely not one of them. It just made other things I did that much easier.

The soul was quiet as we moved which was unusual. Most liked to chatter at least, figure out where they were going, for how long, what the latest gossip top side was, something. Sometimes they were…not exactly violent but they were mischievous. This taste of freedom had them longing for more. A trip to the earthy realm where they could force their way into some unsuspecting body. Thankfully, I’d not lost one since one of my first times doing this more than 200 years ago. Not that anyone found out about it because I tracked the fucker down and put him right back in his place. Still, it wasn’t something I wished to repeat. I enjoyed my way of life too much to let anyone fuck it up for me.

We were about three pathways away when I started to feel it. That thread of tension and apprehension. Something was brewing somewhere and it wasn’t going to be pretty. The shimmers grew almost violent in color, pulsing more and more. The rumblings, quiet at first, grew to almost deafening levels as I pulled the soul with me and started to run. If these paths splintered, who knew where the fuck we’d end up. Two paths to go, my head started to pulsate from within and my eyes widened. The soul I was transporting began to cackle and I knew I had fucked up. Still I ran. Harder, faster. My feet pounded the cobblestone pathway. The soul began to fight in earnest now, pulling me back with everything it had. Thankfully, it wasn’t much because I was still able to keep going. The final pathway was mere feet in front of me. I reached for it, giving myself that last little push, when it moved. I blinked and tried again, watching it flicker and shift just out of reach. I spun, looking for another path, noticing then the walls closing in. The soul was stronger now, fully forming and then...then that fucker Ashmodai appeared, fire dancing in his eyes…literally. I stumbled as I tried to step back but already a lick of fire flew from his fingertips, curling towards me. “Foolish female. Did you think we wouldn’t find out about your endeavors, Ryot?” Heat wound around my wrists and the smell of burning hair and flesh assaulted my senses. I stood stock still, chin tipping up defiantly to eye down the seven plus foot demon before me. I knew I was fucked, but I hoped I managed to keep the quiver of fear out of my voice when I finally spoke.} I’m a demon, I’m supposed to break the rules, Ashy.

{My knees hit the stones before I could blink. A foot pressed between my shoulder blades pushing me down. I glanced behind me to see one of Ashmodia’s minions gloating down at me and I couldn’t help myself} Aww, Molli, did you miss me? Even like this, I still won’t submit to you, you know that, right? Or are you just pretending to listen to Ashy since you’ve told me numerous times how you imagine his head adorning the doorway above your office?

{I blinked innocently at the growl from Ashmodai and then watched as Mollidas joined me on the ground. His teeth gnashed together and he glared at me, “You’re a fucking bitch, Ry.” I smiled sweet and nodded} That I am. Especially when I’m betrayed, Mol’s. You should have remembered that when you volunteered to take me down. You did volunteer, didn’t you? Pathetic.

{Ashmodai let out a low chuckle, “She’s not wrong, Mollidas, you are pathetic. Had I known there was history, I’d not have involved you. I suppose you will have to  be punished as well. Mores the pity.”  I was raised to my feet at the slightest touch, then lifted a few feet off the ground so I could look into Ash’s eyes. “You got cocky, Ryot. I have been waiting for you to slip up. You made too many mistakes in your dealings with Nija. You stopped being cautious and now I must make an example out of you. I cannot have others thinking they can get away with stealing my souls to bring to heaven.” He shuddered as he said the word and the utter disdain in his voice was practically visible. The flames in his eyes flickered subtly, then the grin on his face widened. That alone sent that frisson of fear tearing down my spine. A happy Ash was a dangerous Ash. I swallowed thickly} What will my punishment involve?

{He snapped his fingers with a bone chilling cackle and gone were the pathways and in its place was a pit that smelled of sulfur and copper, blood and death. Normally a smell I enjoy quite a bit, but right now, I wanted to be anywhere but here. I was secured by my wrists and ankles in the center of the room, hanging like some depraved artwork (a punishment I enjoyed inflicting on others), Molli was trussed up over a large pit that was so dark and deep, I had no idea what lie below. For a moment, I thought we’d been left here alone as our punishment, but then I felt the stir in the air. The cold sweep of a blade, flat side for now, scratching along my bared shoulders. My back felt cold, exposed and I glanced over my shoulder to see the fabric loosely dangling as though it’d been slit up the middle. At least I was still covered where it mattered. That was a plus. Ash was unusually creative with his punishments from what I have heard and I was not looking forward to seeing what he was going to do, but at least I knew he’d not touch me in that way. He muttered under his breath as he worked, recanting a number of my indiscretions, at least those that involved stealing souls from hell. He didn’t seem to have a problem when I worked the system the other way, funny that one. Or at least he didn’t. The blade just scored down my back again when the room flashed a vivid white and a female stood in the center, she was nearly as tall as Ash was but thanks to my current predicament, I saw her face clearly. Ice flashed in her eyes, her pale skin nearly translucent and glowing in the darkened room. Her gaze turned to Ash and she beckoned him around from behind me. “You are not the only one owed punishment for her crimes. She has tainted the hallways of heaven….” I snorted out a laugh and shook my head} Oh hon, I promise I’m not the first and I sure as fuck won’t be the last one to taint those h….

{I swallowed a gasp as her fingers clenched around my throat, her movements faster than a blur. “You may be correct, however you are the one we have been trying to catch, you are the one who will be an example for those to come.” Ash stepped forward then and pulled her hand from my throat, “We will have to work together, Amora. What do you suggest we do?” They stepped away from me then, going to the small corner opposite, heads bent together as they worked out the details. Occasionally one or the other would glance back at me then smile before going back to the conversation. I knew that didn’t bode well for me. Nope, not at all. I inhaled deeply and tried to call on my energy, teleportation didn’t work because I fucking sucked at it and ended up in the wrong place more often than not, but right now, nothing else was working either. Ash had muted my abilities which meant I had to try things a different way. I took another slow breath and focus, attention going to the corner long enough to see they were still plotting, then back to figuring my way out of this fucking mess. I stretched my fingers and arms, struggling to find a loose anything and thought I nearly had one when I heard the soft laughter and lifted my gaze to find them both staring at me in amusement. They spoke in tandem, each uttering a few parts of my punishment before the other would gleefully jump in. It was damn frightening when a demon and angel worked together. Each word from their lips filled me with dread. I shook my head, they couldn’t be serious. That was criminal. It went against the natural laws. I opened my mouth to argue but before I could utter a sound, my lips were sealed with crude sutures from out of nowhere. My eyes went wide then my vision went fuzzy. I screamed behind my sealed lips then, louder even when the blades dug into my shoulder blades, scraping the gone as they did. Then I felt the fingers and the dread, the dulling of everything. When they were finished, my back still dripped blood and I felt numb with it all. They smiled at me and lowered me to the ground. “What do you say, Amora, 6 months? Will that be suitable for her?” I squeaked behind my lips and shook my head fast enough to make me dizzy. Well it was either the shaking or the blood loss. She smiled and nodded, “6 Months sounds perfect. We will see if she learns her lesson then among the humans she so favors. Would you care to do the honors or shall I?” He bowed and waved her on. She stepped close, her fingers trailing through my hair, “Six months with your powers stripped, heaven and hell both sealed off to you. You will not be able to reach out to anyone. Any demon or angel who tries to aid you will be subsequently punished, and word will go out immediately about that. Most of your accounts are frozen for that time as most of your money was earned through illegal channels. Find a job among the humans you enjoy so much and live as they do. Maybe you will learn to follow through with what is expected of you.” She smiled sweetly and swiped her hand over my back to finally stem the flow of blood and then the room flipped on its axis and I was standing in my driveway. Everything was still…off. I blinked and rubbed at my eyes, my color had been stolen from me. My hand slipped over my mouth, rough edges where the sutures were prominent but at least my lips were free. I let out a scream of frustration but it came out strangled. My eyes went wide and I ran to the house, using my keypad to unlock the door then resetting the alarm before I ran to my room. I tried to speak but it was faint, just barely above a whisper. My voice and my vision, as well as my powers….those fuckers were going to pay, after all, I had six months to plot my revenge.}

[mst3kproject]

521: Santa Claus

Ever since they included a Christmas episode in the first Netflix season, I have been slowly coming to terms with the fact that this blog will not live long enough for me to do all the Christmas movies on Christmas.  Might as well get on with it. This one goes out to @casualcollectorlightme.

It’s Christmas Eve, and Santa Claus is setting off on his annual trip to take gifts to the children of the world.  He’s anticipating trouble: a demon named Pitch has been ordered to stop him.  If nobody gets any presents, then the children of Mexico won’t see any point in being good, and will turn to evil en masse!  Can Santa, with his friends Merlin the wizard and Vulcan the smith, thwart Pitch’s wicked plot and save Christmas?

My favourite thing about this movie is its weird portrayal of Santa, and for once I actually can explain why it fascinates me.  If you’ve ever seen the movie Mothra, you probably had a good laugh at the bit set in the foreign land of Rolisica, which shows us what Japanese people in the 60’s thought Americans were like (if you haven’t seen it then for heaven’s sake do so – it’s funny as hell).  Santa Claus is kind of a whole movie about that, because when it was made in 1959, Santa wasn’t really a thing in Mexico.  The film was an attempt to import him, and so we get to see our beloved Christmas traditions through the eyes of a people who aren’t very familiar with them.  

We begin with a tour of Santa’s workshop, which is not actually at the North Pole, but floating in space somewhere above it.  In American Christmas movies the toy factory would be staffed by elves, but this one goes for another short, energetic option: children from around the world, in the form of a parade of offensive stereotypes embodied by tone-deaf six-year-olds.  This is very strange, not only because they all seem to be singing in the snow rather than working, but because we find ourselves unavoidably wondering who these kids are.  Where are their parents, and how did they end up in Santa’s custody?  Are they orphans he took in, or is this some kind of mass kidnapping operation?  Do they get an education?  What happens to them when they grow up?

When you give it a moment’s thought, however, this setup actually makes more sense than elves.  What the hell are elves, after all?  Where do they come from and why do they work for Santa?  Nobody ever asks that, because it’s just part of the mythology (and when movies do try to offer answers they’re almost always weird and disappointing).  You might as well ask why the Easter Bunny is a rabbit. That’s just how it works.  If you haven’t grown up hearing about it, though, the idea that orphaned children get raised by Santa, helping to bring joy to the rest of the world… that's messed-up, but it works.

The same applies to Santa’s collection of magical surveillance equipment, which looks like something out of a Salvador Dali sugar high. American Christmas films, like the classic Rudolf the Red-Nosed Reindeer or even Santa Claus Conquers the Martians, rarely go into how Santa sees you when you’re sleeping and knows when you’re awake.  Again, he just does.  Because Santa was something new to the Mexican film-makers, though, they felt like they had to explain it.  Their attempt tried for whimsy but took a wrong turn and ended up smack in the middle of fucking creepy.

It’s creepy in several ways, too.  I mean, the giant lips that speak in the voices of children’s wishes are an awful image, but there’s also the fact that Santa is spying on you directly.  He’s watching your dreams.  He’s listening to your whispered conversations.  He’s reading your fanfiction.  The Three Naughty Boys discuss how they don’t believe in any of this and Santa speaks to them, informing him that he knows very well what they’re planning!  Santa is Big Brother, always watching – and this is true of the ordinary concept of Santa Claus, too!  We sometimes make jokes about this but it seems harmless to us because we never delve into the details the way this movie does.

This thread of explaining things we don’t normally think need explanation runs through other areas of the movie as well.  Why does nobody ever wake up and see Santa Claus?  Why don’t our dogs bark at him?  Because he’s got a sleeping powder and a magic flower that can make him invisible. If that were as far as it went, then it wouldn’t be too strange.  I can see similar things appearing in something like a The Santa Clause sequel… except that there, they would probably have been made by the elves.  Since Santa Claus does not have mechanically (or dentally) gifted elves, it needs to provide another origin. Hence the inclusion of Merlin the Magician and Vulcan the Smith, which seems like a weird juxtaposition of mythology to us, but as far as the Mexicans know they’re all ‘American’ so they’re close enough.

Santa Claus also feels obliged to confront the awkward question of class differences.  Santa is supposed to be an egalitarian figure: he doesn’t care if you’re rich or poor, only if you’ve behaved yourself.  Poor kids should therefore get just as many presents as rich kids, which is manifestly not true in the real world.  Most American movies just pretend everybody is middle-class and ignore the issue completely.  Santa Claus tries to do something with it and the results are once again, weird.

There is, for example, the never-named Rich Boy who is tired of toys and just wants to know his parents love him.  Santa makes his wish come true by drugging Madre and Padre into heading home from their Christmas Eve out, and the question of whether he got any other gifts is never brought up.  The nearest thing the movie has to a main human character, however, is adorable little Lupita, whose father is out of work.  She wants a doll for Christmas and frankly any doll will do – she struggles with the idea of stealing a rag doll from a craft market, but puts it back, and Santa rewards her by bringing her a doll her parents could never afford.

And that’s nice, but what message does it send to all the well-behaved children in the real world whose parents can’t afford to buy them anything fancy?  That they weren’t good enough?  That they didn’t write a nice enough letter or say a nice enough prayer?  That Santa just doesn’t give a shit?  There’s a reason most Christmas movies don’t touch on this.

The specific doll Santa brings to Lupita also kind of bugs me… it’s just not a good present for a child like her.  Lupita is around five or six years old.  She needs a doll she can cuddle, play with, and carry around with her, like the one from the market.  The one she gets is as big as she is and wearing a fancy dress.  That’s not a toy, that’s a piece of décor.  It’s the doll that sits in the rocking chair in your grandmother’s living room and which you swear you can see move out of the corner of your eye. It’s not huggable, if she takes it anywhere it’ll get dirty or broken, and there’s a cynical part of me that thinks her parents probably sold it the next day so that they could buy food or pay the rent on their hovel or something.

Then there’s Santa’s adversary.  American Christmas movies pit Santa against bad weather, other supernatural entities like Jack Frost, and ordinary grouches like Phineas Prune.  In this movie, the villain is the devil.  This does, I guess, make a certain amount of sense, since Santa is dedicated to rewarding well-behaved children while Satan wants to collect the souls of the wicked, but we’re just not used to this meeting of religious and secular imagery.  Christmas is a Christian feast pinned to the ass of a much older Pagan solstice festival and it has never managed to really do away with this duality.  Most people keep the Christian and folk sides of Christmas pretty separate, but here we see them collide head-on.

Finally there’s the stuff that’s just plain terrifying.  Like the creepy laughing reindeer.  Or the rather complicated explanation of why Santa must make it home before sunrise.  When the sun comes up, the mechanical reindeer will turn to dust, leaving Santa unable to return to his palace in outer space.  What will happen then?  Why, he’ll starve to death, because Santa and his helpers subsist on sweets made from clouds and stardust, and cannot digest normal food!  Wait, the toy-making children, too?  What does happen to them when they grow up?  Can they return to Earth and start eating burgers like the rest of us, or do they remain children in Santa’s bondage forever? I told you this movie was weird.

Santa Claus is not as enjoyable in its own train-wrecky right as its Martian-Conquering cousin, but it is my favourite of the MST3K Christmas episodes. The movie itself is cheerful and the host sketches are a positive delight.  I particularly love everybody’s joy at the terrible Secret Santa presents, and their all-inclusive seasonal song that distilled tumblr to its essence decades before tumblr ever existed.  The very best part, however, is the awesome Christmas mods they did for the bots.  I love the snowglobe in Tom Servo’s head, and here I am once again helpless to articulate why it’s so damn funny. 

[itsybitsybatsyspider]

Stars and Rooftops

Summary: Billy gets a new foster sibling, but she doesn’t want to stay. Or at least that’s what she keeps telling herself.

Warnings: Maybe some cursing, i don’t remember honestly.

Notes: for now, this is a oneshot, unless i want to add a chapter or two more.

Word Count: 4.9k ( and i wrote this in a DAY!! Woohoo!!)

ENJOY!!

Billy had seen a hell of a lot of weird things since becoming the Champion of the wizard, Shazam. Aliens falling from the sky and invading Earth, men running faster than the speed of sound, mermaids, (even though Victor kept insisting that they were Atlanteans), and dudes dressed up as bats, to list a few. But he had to admit, this took the cake. By far. It all started with Billy saving people from their burning building. I know, that’s pretty cliche, but that doesn’t mean it doesn’t happen.

So here he was, speeding in and out of the building trying to grab as many people as he could. The flames licking the sides of the building, turning a nice, rich brown into a smoldering black. He had just gotten the last of everyone out the door when the second floor collapsed in on itself, caving the whole thing.

Billy let out a sigh of relief. That was close.

The tenants of the former building, stood by in shock, looking at the remnants of their home. Although a few came out of their stupor and came over to thank the local hero, who blushed and rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly.

“It was nothing. I would have done it even if i didn’t have superpowers.” He admitted to the crowd. A few of them chuckled in response to the hero’s comment and a came forward and shook his hand or gave him a quick hug. Billy didn’t want to leave them till the paramedics came, but sadly, he was late for dinner and he couldn’t stay any longer than he had. He waved goodbye to the citizens of Fawcett as his feet slowly left the ground and he was soon in the clear blue autumn skies.

Billy smiled in delight as the cold wind brushed his face and tugged at his cape. Oh how he loved flying. He believed it was the best feeling in the entire world and that nothing would ever live up to it. The bright sky above him, the sun just starting to set casting golden rays everywhere and freezing air around him was amazing. To say the least. But sadly, his flight ended shortly.

Billy touched down a block or two from the Vasquez’s house and made sure nobody was around him when he said the magic word.

“SHAZAM!”

And just like that, Fawcett City’s brave, red clad hero turned into thirteen year old Billy Batson. The magic lightening struck down and left smoke billowing through the air and little bits of electricity spasming around Billy. The boy just shrugged it off, picked up the backpack he had casted aside, and walked onto the sidewalk, acting as if nothing had happened. Anothing thing that happened to Billy since becoming the Champion, is he became more exposed to magic and it’s quirks. Like there were a few days when he would see magical creatures walking through Fawcett and nobody would even bat an eye at it, and he would laugh at how absurd it looked. There was one time when he saw a satyr buying a hotdog off of a hotdog vendor and asking for mustard, a eudaemon sitting in a bookstore sipping a cup of coffee, and even a policeman riding a unicorn. It was funny to see to say the least. And not only could he see magical creatures, but he could sense things about people. It wasn’t very noticeable, it was like heightened intuition more than anything, but it sure did come in handy when Billy got into less than preferred situations.

He had just walked up to his most recent foster home, when his gut clenched all of a sudden. There was that sixth sense again, saying that there was something off inside. Billy tensed and prepared to say the word if he needed to before he reached for the door handle and turned it.

He walked inside, calling out the usual “I’m home!” and was met with Mrs. Vasquez’s cheerful voice.

“Oh, you’re home! Good! Billy, why don’t you come into the living room and come meet our guest?”

Still wary, Billy set down his backpack and walked into the living room to see Mr. and Mrs. Vasquez sitting next to a woman in a suit and a young girl about his age looking at him strangely. The woman was in a neat black pantsuit and her hair was up in a bun and a badge clipped to her blazer. A social worker. Billy felt a rock form in his stomach. This couldn’t be good.

Meanwhile the girl just kept looking at him, as if she was trying to decipher something; she wasn’t as clean looking as the social worker, with a ratty blue sweatshirt, dirt covered red shorts, and a beanie with holes in it. Billy knew the look well. This girl was just on the streets. The boy sighed and let his shoulders sag, she had probably gotten sucked into the foster system just as he had, and the social worker was here to drop her off until they found her files or a new home to go to.

“Billy, I’d like you to meet Danielle. She’ll be staying here for a few days until Ms. Turner can find her a proper home.”

Billy smirked inwardly. ‘Called it.’ he thought.

“Dani.” the girl said. The adults in the room looked at the said girl in shock. “Sorry, what?” The social worker asked. Dani turned her gaze away from Billy and looked at Ms. Turner directly. Billy assumed that this was the first time she had spoken in a while.

“My name’s Dani. With an “i”. Not Danielle.” that said she turned her attention back to Billy. It was starting to make him uncomfortable.  

“Okaaayyy. This is Dani. Billy do you wanna say something?”

“No, not really.” he said shrugging.

“Billy.” Mrs. Vasquez lightly scolded. Dani let a smirk escape her lips.

“Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have homework to do.” the boy said as he grabbed his backpack and headed for the stairs.

Dani turned her attention to the Vasquez’s and spoke, “I like him.”  

Dani was disappointed in herself. How could she have gotten caught so easily! It was an embarrassment to her ghost status and stealth abilities, and it all started with her dining and dashing. Long story short, she started to get really hungry after five days of eating nothing, and being half ghost burned lots of calories. So what was the harm in her eating a little bit and then turning invisible and leave. Except she didn’t eat a little bit. And she didn’t turn invisible. After that whole buffet she ate, the manager of the diner started pestering her about the bill and she knew she couldn’t turn invisible with witnesses. Then the manager grabbed her, called the police, and everything became a blue after that. Then before she knew it, she was sitting on a nice couch in the Vasquez residence with a damn social worker of all people discussing housing and what they were gonna do with her. She never even got a chance to slip away, and had settled for glaring out the window, watching the cars go by. It was all pretty boring until Dani got a tingly feeling down her spine, like electricity, and a breath of gold escaped her mouth. She clamped her mouth shut and glanced at the adults in the room. Luckily nobody noticed. And then the front door opened and in came the boy who she’d be living with.

“Billy! Why don’t you come into the living room and meet our new guest?” Mrs. Vasquez said. Dani scoffed internally at the sound of her being a guest when the boy, Billy, entered the room. He looked pretty similar to her, with black hair and blue eyes, but that’s where the similarities ended. He sported a red hoodie and a football jersey underneath it and blue jeans with red sneakers.

And once Dani saw him, she had this weird sense about him, like there was more to him than what meets the eye. As if he was more powerful than he was letting on. And she knew this because it was the exact same thing she and Danny did all the time.

The adults and their talking just became white noise to her as she kept looking at the boy, trying to figure out what made him so special. She heard the social worker, Ms. Turner, call her “Danielle”, and she had to speak up and correct her. The only person who called her “Danielle” was Vlad, and she wanted nothing to do with him or anything related to that monster.

She realized that that was the first time she spoke since the police station.

“Okaaayyy. Billy do you wanna say anything?”

“No, not really.” the boy said nonchalantly.

“Billy.” Mrs. Vasquez scolded. Dani smirked. Billy then said something about doing homework, and he took his bag and went upstairs.

“I like him.” She said.

Dinner that night was mac and cheese. It was Darla’s turn to choose dinner and she thought that mac and cheese would be a good idea since it was one of the Vasquez’s best dishes. So here was Billy and Freddy, setting the table while Darla and Mr. Vasquez worked on the cheesy pasta, and Mrs. Vasquez was upstairs trying to help Dani find something else to wear since her current clothes were practically dirt and rags.

“Dinner’s ready!” Darla announced proudly, placing the mac and cheese on the table, displaying the gooey dish with a flourish of her hand. Freddy smiled at her enthusiasm and Billy smirked at her antics. No matter how grumpy Billy was with everyone, he could never be grumpy with Darla. She was just like a pure ray of sunshine that could never be tainted, and even though Billy would never admit it, he would do anything to protect her. She was like a sister to him just as much as Freddy was a brother to him. But he’d never tell anyone, not even Victor, he had a reputation to uphold.

Footsteps thudded down the stairs and Dani appeared, her hair damp from a shower and wearing fresh clothes. There was a big grin on her face and Billy wondered just how long she had worn those old clothes. She had a white crop sweatshirt that said “LEGEND” and a pair of new jeans on.

“What’s for dinner? I’m starving!” Dani asked.

“Mac and cheese!” Freddy said.

“Yes! I love mac and cheese!”

“Well then you’re gonna love this. Mr. Vasquez makes the BEST mac and cheese in the whole world. Trust me.”

“Nice. And I’m sorry but i don’t think i got your name.”

“Oh right, I’m Freddy. Nice to meet you.” he said sticking out his hand to Dani for her to shake.

“Likewise.” she said taking his hand.

“And I’m Darla!” the cocoa-skinned girl said.

“Good to meet you Darla.”

“And you’ve already met Billy. He’s the broody one out of all of us.” Freddy said in a stage whisper.

“I’m not broody!” Billy protested. Darla nodded her head behind him. Dani smiled.

“Alright kids, sit down. It’s time to eat.” Mr. Vasquez said. Mrs. Vasquez, Freddy, Darla, and Billy all sat down in their respective places while Dani just stood awkwardly to the side. She had never done this before in the year she had been alive. She never did it with Danny’s family, with Vlad, and she’d been way too busy traveling the world that she never had the chance to actually try something like this.

“C’mon Dani. Sit next to Billy.” Darla said.

Dani rubbed the back of her neck and shuffled over to the empty seat next to Billy. He gave her a strange look. Dani was just about to reach for the serving spoon, when everyone at the table took each other’s hands. Billy offered his hand to her, which she was tentative to take, and Mrs. Vasquez, who was next to her, took her other hand.

“Dear Lord,” Mr. Vasquez started, “Thank you for this wonderful day and bringing Dani to us, and bless this food to our bodies. Amen.”

“Amen.” everyone else chorused after him. Dani stayed silent and looked at everybody funny as they each took turns filling up their plates.

“So, Dani,” Mr. Vasquez began, “Where were you before you came here?”

“Uhm, I was, in uh,” She stammered. Struggling to come up with a believable lie. Cause she couldn’t just say that she spent the past two weeks flying around France.

“Central. Central City.”

Mr. Vasquez’s eyebrows rose. “Wow, you’re sure a far ways from there then.”

‘Is that far?’ Dani wondered. Distance just became a word to her after a while.

“Yeah, I am.”

“Woah! Cool! Does that mean you saw the Flash?” Darla asked innocently. Dani shrugged as it was her turn to dish up her plate. The name sounded familiar to her, but she wasn’t sure why.

“Uhm, no I didn’t. Sorry.”

Darla seemed to deflate a little, but it didn’t last long.

“Where else have you been?” Freddy asked.

“All over.” Dani said. “Kind of hard to keep track of everywhere I’ve been.”  

Freddy nodded, accepting the answer.   

“Have you ever seen a superhero?” Billy asked. Dani smirked at the question. If only he knew how ironic that question was.

“Oh yeah, i’ve definitely seen my share of superheroes. One even saved my life.” She said before she could shut her big mouth.

Suddenly Darla and Freddy were asking question after question, wanting to know every detail about her rescue; Dani couldn’t even get a word in. Meanwhile, Billy stayed silent the entire time. Did he rescue her? He couldn’t remember everybody he saved, but he racked his brain trying to remember if he did or not.

“Freddy! Darla!” Mrs. Vasquez shouted. Effectively shutting them up. “If Dani doesn’t want to talk about it, then don’t ask.”

“Sorry.”

“Sorry, Dani.” they both said. Dani smiled sadly.

“It’s okay. You each get one question about it though. I won’t leave you hanging.” The foster siblings brightened up and Darla was the first to ask her question.

“Who saved you?”

Billy held his breath and Dani kept smiling sadly. “It was a small town hero, I doubt you guys have even heard of him, but he goes by Phantom. He was the one to save my life.” Darla’s face said it all. Even Billy was confused. He’d never heard of a hero named Phantom before, and he was on the Justice League. Wasn’t it kind of his job to learn more about other superhuman/alien beings? He’ll have to ask Victor to research him later.

“What did he save you from?” Freddy asked.

Dani fell silent. She couldn’t tell them the truth. What was she supposed to say? ‘Oh i was destabilizing and turning into a pile of goo in the basement of a psychopath and he sprayed me with some magical Febreeze and saved my life. Crazy right?’      

“Uhhhmm, I’d rather not say.”

“Oh okay. Then, what can he do? What are his powers?”

Dani smiled. “Well, he can fly, turn invisible, walk through walls, and he has these cool lasers called ecto-blasts. He shoots them out of his hands and eyes. It’s pretty cool!”

“He sounds awesome!”

“Yeah, he’s super cool!”

“So he’s like a mix of Martian Manhunter and Superman?”

A flicker of confusion flashed across Dani’s face. “Uh, I guess? To be honest, i don’t pay a whole of a lot attention to the Justice League. I do like Batman though. He seems awesome. Also Wonder Woman.”

Darla got a look on her face that Dani didn’t know how to interpret, before she asked. “What do you think of Shazam?”

Billy tensed up and sent a glare at Darla.     

“Who?”

Freddy choked on his water. The table was silent.

“You’re kidding right?” He said after regaining his bearings.

“You don’t know who Shazam is?” Mrs. Vasquez asked, a bit baffled, which confused Dani.

“No. Sorry. Who is he?”

At the question Billy, glanced down at his plate and started playing with his food absentmindedly. He hadn’t said a word the whole dinner and by now, he decided he wasn’t going to.

“Shazam is Fawcett City’s superhero. I’m sure you’ve seen him around while you were here. He always makes an appearance at least once a day.” Freddy said. He glanced at Billy quickly before turning back to Dani. “Maybe you just need to see a picture of him. Hold on, I’ll pull up a picture of him real quick”

Mr. Vasquez held up a finger. “Uh. Nuh uh. No phone’s at the table. You know the rules Freddy. Put it away.” He said curtly. Freddy deflated, pocketing the phone and turning back to his plate of pasta. “You can show her later. Now Billy, Freddy, Darla, how was school today. Learn anything new?”

“Sorry Billy.” Freddy whispered to his foster brother after dinner was finished. Said boy shrugged.

“It’s okay Freddy. Don’t apologize.” They arrived at their shared bedroom and Freddy closed the door behind them.

“I’m gonna go do my ‘homework’. Billy said as he opened up the window and took off it’s screen.

“Okay, have fun and tell Victor ‘Hi’ for me, and don’t die. Also, make sure you’re farther away from the house this time. Last night you were sloppy. I could hear you say ‘Shazam.’”

Billy nodded and gave Freddy a salute. “Will do.” he crept out of the window and jumped off of the roof onto the grass. Jogging away from the house until he was sure nobody he knew would hear him, he shouted the name of the wizard and flew off into the night.

“So, you’re saying that this chick, who has met superheroes before, has absolutely no idea who Shazam is?” Victor asked as he tossed Billy a football. Monitor duty was boring as ever, so of course Billy had nagged Victor into tossing a football with him.

“Yeah! Ugh, it made dinner so awkward! Like, how can she not have heard about me? I’m one of the Justice League!”

He tossed the ball back to Victor.

“Well maybe she’s been a bit too busy to research superheroes. You said that she traveled a lot. Maybe she just didn’t have the time. Not to mention she was also on the street. So cut her some slack.”

The ball flew through the air again.

“Yeah, I know. You’re right.”   

They continued to throw the ball back and forth between them, making light conversation, until a rapid beeping came from the computer and they had to put the football down.

“Ready to do some superheroing?” Billy said with a cheesy grin on his face as his feet rose from the ground.

“I don’t even think that’s an actual word.”

Dani had to admit, this had been a good day. It started off terrible, with her getting caught by the police and getting placed in a home by a social worker, but in the end it was good. She got to have a home cooked meal, a place to sleep, fresh clothes, a full stomach, a hot shower, and a chance to actually live in a home. It was something she never got a chance to try. Which is why what she was about to do that much harder.  She watched the digital clock next to her bed tick till one in the morning, before she sat up, cringing at the rustling of the sheets. She glanced at the bed next to her, where Darla slept, and released breath of relief when she saw she didn’t wake up.

Tapping into her core, Dani began to float from her bed. She threw off the sheets and began to drift toward the door. She wasn’t going to leave without food and water and some clean clothes. She hated having to do this, but she knew she had to. There weren’t any records of her anywhere, so when the social worker came back in a day or two with all these questions Dani couldn’t answer…

Well, it just wouldn’t end well.

She had found an empty backpack and had begun packing it with dry snacks and water bottles. Dani thought about taking some money, but she decided against it. Knowing that the family needed it more than she did. Once she was finished packing and had stuffed her pajamas in the bag, wearing the crop sweatshirt and jeans again, she crept over to her and Darla’s bedroom and floated through the door and wall onto the roof. Turning tangible, she landed on the roof and shrugged the backpack onto her shoulders. She glanced at the house one last time before turning around and walking to the edge of the roof.

But when she turned around, she gasped. Dani didn’t even think about it at the time, but the Vasquez’s house was far away from the city, so that when night came, there was both hundreds of stars out and there was the glittering skyline. This is what Dani saw. The stars twinkling in the sky and the city shimmering in all of its lights. It was two of Dani’s favorite things at one time.

‘Well, what’s the rush? As long as I’m gone before morning, everything will be fine.’ the ghost girl thought.

A wry grin on her face, Dani when over to the edge and sat down. Her legs swinging back and forth as she gazed at the stars in the sky and the stars on Earth.

‘Well, since I’m out here, I might as well have one of the snacks I packed.’ she thought to herself; knowing full well that she was just coming up with excuses to stay longer at the foster home.

Dani pulled out a granola bar and started munching on it while the stars shined and the breeze wrapped around her. And since it was hours before the sun rose, Dani had no fear of someone spotting her sitting up on the roof, stargazing. Or at least she thought. A tingle of electricity ran down her spine and her ghost sense went off. Instead it was gold instead of the normal blue.

“What are you doing?” a voice asked behind her.

Dani yelped in surprise and dropped her granola bar as she whipped around to see who had spoken. And to her surprise, it wasn’t a normal person. Nope. It was man clad in a red and gold suit with a lightning bolt on his chest and a white cape billowing behind him as he floated high above the ground. The cape had a hood on it, which was pulled over the stranger’s face, hiding his features from Dani’s view and making her feel uneasy. But this wasn’t the strangest thing to happen to Dani. She had half expected for him to start attacking her already, but when he didn’t it confused the ghost girl.

“Sorry?” she asked.

“What are you doing up here? It’s not safe standing on roofs when there’s no one to look out for you.” the mysterious man stated. Dani scoffed.

“Yeah, well I can take care of myself. Don’t need a man in a costume and cape to come to my rescue.”

The man crossed his arms and Dani felt like he was glaring at her.

“So who are you? Don’t think i’ve heard of you before.” she said to him. Hoping to keep things light.

“The name’s Shazam. And you are?”

It all clicked into place for Dani now, and a understanding smile made its way onto her face.

“Ooooohh okay. That all makes sense now. You’re Fawcett City’s own personal hero, right? Yeah, I’ve heard some good stuff about you. Probably should’ve figured it out already, but you know. They don’t call me “clueless” for nothing.” Dani knew that last part wasn’t true, but she was cloned from someone who was clueless, so it made sense that she got the misfortune of getting that quality from Danny as well.    

“Who calls you “clueless”?” Shazam asked as he touched down on the roof.

“Oh you know, people.”

The superhero sat down next to her and she could feel him looking at her funny.

“What?” she asked.

“You seem much too chill to be talking to a superhero right now.” he said. Dani laughed.

“Oh man, if only you knew!”

“Well I’m just saying,” Shazam threw his hood down, revealing neat jet black hair and familiar baby blue eyes. “Not everyone is as chill as you are when having a conversation with a superpowered human being.”

Dani stopped laughing and looked at Shazam. He seemed familiar to her, but she didn’t know why he did. They had only just met. Hadn’t they?

“Yeah, you’re right. Not everyone is chill when talking to a superhero. But then again there are the exceptions.”

“You mean you?”

Dani shrugged and Shazam sighed. “You know you still didn’t tell me what you’re doing up here.” He said to her.

“Can’t a girl just sit and stargaze on her roof?”

“With a bag full of food and water and fully dressed? No. I don’t think so. That sounds like running away to me.”

Dani huffed and turned to the bag. It clearly looked like she was running away, which she was. She wasn’t even going to deny it.

“Yeah, I was.” This got the hero’s attention.

“Why? Do you not like it here? Was dinner too awkward?” He asked all of a sudden. Dani glanced up the red clad hero and looked at him funny. He seemed to realize what he had said, seeing as how he had instantly shut up. Then it began to make sense. Dinner… the gold ghost sense… the familiarity of a superhero she had never met before…

She had to admit, it was a good disguise. Even for her. Dani smiled and turned back to her bag and pulled out another granola bar and offered it to Shazam. A night of hero work was always exhausting, especially for a kid her age.

He glanced down at the bar and took it gingerly from her hand. “Thanks.” he mumbled.

“No problem. And no, dinner wasn’t awkward. In fact it was fun. I’ve never had a home cooked meal before. Or sat down at a table with a family. Or said Grace. Or even talked about my day.” Dani glanced down at the ground far below her, and she knew that it would be a good memory for her to keep.

“What? Are you serious?” Shazam said in shock. The girl nodded and turned her attention back to the sky.

“You’ve never had any of that before?”

“Nope. But it’s okay, my life isn’t absolutely terrible and miserable. Although I do wish i can do this every night. It’d be nice.”

“So why not?”

Dani stayed silent, not answering the hero’s answer, and just gazed at the city lights.

“Because I can’t.”

There was a finality in her voice, that let Shazam know that she was serious and that nothing would change her mind. But he had to try, didn’t he? To convince her to stay?

“Well, as cryptic as that sounds, I’m sure the people living here won’t mind having you around. Living in a home full of people who care about you isn’t all that bad. And trust me, I would know.”

A knowing smile graced on Dani’s face and Shazam noted that she smiled a lot, although they were all different from each other and meant different things.

“I believe you. But it’s not a matter of whether or not I want to stay, but that I can’t. If I do, something bad will happen, and I don’t want that. These people don’t deserve that. They’re a good family and I don’t know if even I deserve to be blessed with them. It’s just all a mess.” She admitted to the hero before her. He looked at her with understanding in his eyes, but didn’t say a word. It was quiet between the two until the sky started to turn grey and the lights of the city began to turn off. Dawn was nearly here and neither of them had noticed the time fly by.

“Well,” Shazam started out, “I’m not saying you shouldn’t stay. But i think you should give these people another chance. I know it’s not them and it’s you and all of that cliche stuff, but trust me on this. They are willing to do anything to help you and they care. They care a lot. It’s not some act they put. It’ll be worth while i can promise that. And hey, you’ll get to live with a family more. More dinners, more domestic small talk, more home cooked meals, mo-”

“More showers, more clean clothes, more love, more chances... “ Dani finished. She glanced at the backpack once again and then at the rising sun.

“And hey, if it doesn’t work out. You can always run away another day.” Shazam said lightly. Dani breathed a laugh. “Yeah, I guess you’re right. Maybe I can stay a few more days. Till the social worker comes back anyway. Sound good to you?”

“Yeah.” Shazam said. He didn’t notice the vague slip up he did, but Dani did, and she smiled.

“Right then. Should probably head back inside and unpack before everyone wakes up and notices.”

“Yep, totally.”

“And by the way? Thanks, Billy.”

Billy hummed. “You’re welcome.”

…

…

…

“Wait.”

[drarrymylove]

Hello, could you write this for a Drarry drabble? Soulmate AU where you experience unfathomable, collapse, sob and heave, pain when your soulmate is about to die. Draco Malfoy has experienced this pain at least 3 times and keeps a journal for it. He has felt this pain the day after the dark lord was vanquished, (maybe near-death from abusive/neglectant relatives?), when Quirrel burnt to death, basilisk biting Harry, etc. Bonus if Draco loves his soulmate and worries every pain may be The Death.

((the infamous carrot prompt was easier than this…oh my god… here take it.  I give up. I’m so sorry if this isn’t what you were hoping.))(Part 1 (you are here)) ((Part 2)) ((Part 3)) ((Read the Complete Fic on AO3))

Entry 1- 1988I don’t remember the first time so I can’t write it down. Mother and Father told me I was a baby and I got hurt and they didn’t know why. They took me to St. Mungo’s and a healer said I was fine.  My soulmate died. That is why I hurt so bad.  I thought I was going to die yesterday.  I am alive still. The healer said maybe my soulmate got recreated and bad luck made my soulmate die again so soon.  The healers want me to write it down.  Maybe if it ever happens again I can write that too.  They don’t think it will happen. I hope I can see them if they get recreated again.

Entry 2- 1992Mother had the healer come see me at Hogwarts so I didn’t have to leave school.  She called it an “episode.” I had another “episode” she said.  It doesn’t sound as bad as it was.  I don’t remember it hurting so bad last time.  Last time I didn’t cry.  I think I cried because I was sad.  Not just because my chest hurt.  I couldn’t breathe for a minute.  I’m supposed to write down what it felt like.  It felt like when you smash your finger in a door but not just on your finger. On your whole body.  

Mother brought the journal with her.  No one has ever had a soulmate die three times in their lifetime.  Reincarnation is supposed to take time.  Something about the souls waiting on each other or something.  

Father said. He used these words. He said he was “quite discouraged by this young lady’s tendencies.” I thought it was strange.  I never thought about my soulmate being a girl.  But I guess she’s supposed to be a girl.  

There was some wizard that came by and wanted to study all of the weird soulmate stories he can find.  I guess he thought my story was weird.

When I was leaving the infirmary I saw Potter.  He looked bad.  I can’t imagine how unlucky his soulmate is.  I would feel sorry for her being stuck with him because he’s going to get himself killed.  Fighting trolls and super villains.  Yeah. Unlucky soulmate.

Entry 3- 1993Malfoy’s do not create scandal.  That’s what Father said when he and Mother heard about it this time.  I did not tell them until I was back at the manor.  By now, I know that my stupid soulmate got herself killed again.  Or her parents can’t afford a decent house elf to take proper care of her.

Is it possible to have more than one soulmate?  What if one of my soulmates was killed by the monster from the Chamber of Secrets?  What if she was a muggleborn?  I think that is supposed to bother me.  It would bother Father.  I think it would also bother him that I don’t think I would have a girl soulmate. Mother promised me that he doesn’t know I am keeping a journal about my soulmate problem.

Entry 3- part 2I had to spend a lot of time this summer with different specialists.  One of them told me that it is possible to have a boy soulmate.  He didn’t tell me if it was possible to fall in love with a boy soulmate.  I was too scared to ask.  I suppose soulmates can be best friends.  Maybe soulmates would be better friends than Potter and the Weasel.

The other specialist, a really old witch, said no one has ever had more than one soulmate.  

Entry 4- 1994I made it through a school year without another soulmate debacle.  I am relieved and upset.  I know my soulmate didn’t die this year, but now I don’t know if I even have a soulmate left.  Professor Lupin didn’t make me face the boggart.  I told him before class that I didn’t think I could find anything funny about watching my soulmate die and die and die again in front of me.  I also told him I didn’t want anyone asking why the boggart would think my soulmate was a boy.  He told me that maybe my soulmate didn’t die.  I want to believe him.  He said that when your soulmate has a close call, you can feel it.  But it has to be very very close.  Prof Lupin seemed to know a lot about soul mates.  He also said that two boys could be soulmates.  He promised he wouldn’t tell anyone. He also said that when you meet your soulmate, you know it.  

He did not say how you know it.  Only that your soul pulls at theirs.  That you cannot ignore them.

Maybe it’s like being in a room with Potter.  He is so I don’t knowHe always 

Some people won’t let you ignore them.  Walking around like they are just so wonderful.  I bet my soulmate has pretty eyes too.

Entry 5- 1995It happened again.  If I have the timing correct, it was when Diggory died.  But that can’t be right.  I have never felt anything around him.  I really hope it was a coincidence.  I do not want to go my whole life without my soulmate.  I can think of him and my heart feels- good. 

It can’t be Diggory.  He never made me feel the way thinking of my soulmate makes me feel.  

I hoped it was Har-

It cannot be Potter.  He didn’t look like someone who just had a very, very close call with death. Did he?

Entry 6- 1996Another year gone by, nothing from my soulmate.  I thought he may have been in trouble once earlier this year.  Madam Pomfrey said it was a migraine.  

Harry didn’t have any close 

I hope my soulmate is okay.  I hope he is happy.

Entry 7- 1997It is not Potter.  

He cursed me.  He almost killed me.  It was undoubtedly a situation that could be considered a “very, very close call.” I hit the floor with no delusions that I would live through it.  When he cursed me, he shouted something but I was, quite understandably, preoccupied.  I only remember staring up to the ceiling waiting to bleed to death.  No soulmate could have knowingly done that to me.  I still don’t understand why I was so heartbroken by it.  Everything I have been through this year, and it was that.  That is what broke my heart.  

I was lying there waiting to die and Potter was above me.  He looked like he was in as much pain as I was.  Not cut out for killing, I suppose.  Neither am I, evidently. If I could have just killed Dumbledore like I was tasked, none of this would have happened.  My godfather healed me, but the scars will still be visible.  Dittany is most effective applied before healing, not after.  

My soulmate could never hurt me like that.  Not on purpose.  I wasted so much time falling for Potter when he couldn’t even be my

I should be grateful.  At least I know it isn’t him.  I can stop wasting my time wondering why my soulmate doesn’t want me.   

He is not my soulmate.

My soulmate was probably some unfortunate wizard who died in my fourth year. It is probably for the best.  I doubt I would live long enough to go find him anyway.  With the Dark Lord living in my bloody house, it is only a matter of time before I say the wrong thing and he kil

No one is coming to save me.  

I will never have a normal life.

I will never fall in love, grow old…grow up.

What soulmate would want me after the things I’ve done.  The things I still have to do?

Yes, it’s better if we just find each other the next time around.

Maybe next time we can both deserve to be happy.

Entry 8- 1998I didn’t want it to be him.  I hoped and wished it would be anyone else.  Any wizard.  Any witch.  When they pulled him in by the back of his ragged shirt, threw him to his knees with his face distorted by some hex or curse, I knew.  I thought I was going to be sick.  I cannot begin to sort through what I felt.  I wanted to hold him.  I wanted to hit him.  He is my bloody soulmate and either he is too stupid to know or he chooses to reject it.  He left me.  He left me with Volde the Dark Lord and here we both were only hours ago.  If I identified him, they would kill him.  If I didn’t, I would be in more danger than usual.  

I knew it was stupid to put that much faith in him, but I lied.  I would recognize him anywhere.  I told no one.  Of course they figured it out.  But he escaped. That is going to have to be enough for me.  I know he will never come back for me.  

Will he care when he feels me die?

Entry 8- part 2He’s dead.  Voldemort said he would stop killing us if Harry came to him.  Part of me knew he would go, but he always makes it out okay.  He’s always okay somehow.  I was wise to keep myself from saying it aloud, but I believed he had a chance. I heard one of the Gryffindors say he went out to the Forbidden Forest when the Death Eaters pulled out of Hogwarts.  Why did they let him go alone? Why did they let him go?

He has always made it through somehow.

Not this time.  It has never hurt this badly before.  I screamed the second my lungs worked again.  I don’t know how long it lasted but no one noticed.  There are people screaming or crying or sobbing all over Hogwarts.  The only quiet ones are dead.  Some of them are so little.

I have outlasted my usefulness to Voldemort.  Harry might not have to wait long for me.  I’m sure Voldemort will come into the castle soon.  I intend for fight for it. He has taken one home from me, he won’t take the other.

Maybe Harry won’t reject me in the next life.  We can be better people next time. We can 

Someone just said Hagrid is carrying Harry’s body back to the castle.  I don’t know if I can do this.

[unseelieaccords]

The Future, The Past

This is my late Christmas Present from @siriusly-smart and she gave me permission to share it with you all.

Here is a Harry Dresden/Alex Verus crossover. And I need 10 novels and 300 short stories of these two.

When I received the letter that morning asking if I’d be willing to help out with the training of a young wizard for one day, my curiosity had beaten out the fact that it made no sense whatsoever. I mean, I was kind of at the top of the Most Wanted list right now – and with Luna graduated, nobody was insane enough to want to train with me. Especially not now. I grimaced, waving away the thought. I wouldn’t think of Richard. Not now. Not yet. I stared at the letter for a little longer, at the pristine handwriting that looked like someone had designed it on a computer, and I thought, hey, what the hell, right? The payment – one favour – might come in handy, one day. God knows I’d be needing favours soon.

I dialled the number at the bottom of the letter on the burner phone I’d picked up that day, frowning a little as I did. It wasn’t like any number I’d ever seen before. Slightly too long, and the country code wasn’t one I recognised – which, given my recent living habits, was saying something. I hesitated, and decided to take a quick glance into the futures where I got an answer before I hit the call button.

Huh.

That was weird.

There wasn’t a single future where the person on the other end didn’t answer, and weirder still, she answered in the exact same tone and cadence every time. Her clear, crisp voice, like winter bells, filled my senses. The words were irrelevant; all I could hear, feel, whatever was that voice.

I hesitated again.

Then I pressed dial.

I was going to hell anyway. May as well take a side-trip first.

--

The second my eyes opened, I knew I was in a dream, and that it wasn’t even my dream. I stood up, brushed myself off, and sighed. I guess that’s what I get for agreeing to “as soon as possible”, but I couldn’t help but feel a little played.

I looked around. Everything was…pink. The sky was that kind of ethereal misty pink colour that happens just as the sun sets, and the ground, where I could see it, was a weird purple colour. There was a thin fog everywhere, a fog that seemed to glisten, and I couldn’t see a thing. I glanced into the futures. I wasn’t going to be attacked, but a figure was about to emerge from the fog. I pivoted until I was facing the right direction, just as he did.

He was tall. Like, holy crap, he was tall. I’m not the tiniest myself, but wow, this guy must have been about seven feet. He was in his late thirties, early forties at a push, with a crooked nose and strong jaw, and dark hair at that awkward stage where it couldn’t decide if it wanted to be long or not. His eyes…I don’t know. Every time I tried to meet them, he looked away. He wore a long, leather trench coat, the darkest black, and the smell of magic from it was almost overwhelming.

“You’re the experienced mage, huh?” he asked. His accent was American, though don’t ask me anything more specific than that, and he sounded amused at the idea. Probably because he was ten years older than me, at least.

“And you’re the young wizard who needs training?” I quipped back, which seemed to amuse him, if the slight upturn to one side of his mouth was any indication.

“Apparently, my queen thinks I need to improve on reacting to things in a patient way, instead of head-on,” he said. He seemed to consider it for a moment, then added, “Or maybe she just thought it would be funny to have some English kid train me. Either way.”

I didn’t react to the ‘kid’, even though it annoyed me. I could tell he was posturing – and, besides, there were no futures I could see where he was a threat. “I thought you Yanks avoided monarchy?”

He let out a rueful laugh. “Yeah, well, I tried my best. Harry Dresden,” he said, holding out a hand.

“Alex. Alex Verus,” I replied, shaking it once. I noticed him flinch as I did, but he didn’t say anything and I could tell that asking wouldn’t help. “So, what does she want me to do?”

This time, he grinned properly, showing his teeth. I wondered idly if he was aware how intimidating he must seem to others, then snorted at my own hypocrisy. “You ever met a sphinx, Verus?” he asked.

--

She was awe-inspiring. I could tell that Dresden thought so, too. I know it’s ridiculous, but in my head, I’d been imagining some being made of sand, like the Great Sphinx in Egypt. The woman in front of us was no sandcastle, though. She was beautiful, in an ethereal way, with the dark, sallow skin of northern Africa and brilliant green eyes with flecks of gold. She was naked, but somehow the rest of her was so striking that I barely noticed. At her navel, her human body changed into something more leonine, and great wings erupted from her back where her two halves joined. She sat like a cat would, her lion-legs curled under her, her human hands resting on the ground, her eyes staring straight ahead. She looked so peaceful, serene. I wanted to go to her now, and I’m pretty sure that Dresden did too. She sat at the other end of a green river that matched her eyes and twinkled in the pink mist that surrounded us, a tiny bridge the only path to her.

I considered the futures where we approached her, and saw us both being torn to shreds before we had a chance to scream. Well, shit.

I put out a hand to block him just before he took a step, and he looked at me in surprise. “Nope,” I said, “Not if you like your face. Or your limbs.”

Dresden looked at my hand on his sternum and said, “Much experience of sphinxes, have you?”

I arched an eyebrow. “No,” I replied archly, “But experiencing myself being ripped apart in the present sounds even worse than experiencing it in the potential future.”

He whipped his head round to face me. There was an expression mingled with an expression mingled with an expression on his face – surprise, yes, that was there, but there was something else. He looked…remember when you were a kid, on Christmas morning, and you opened a gift that you weren’t expecting? Maybe your uncle gave it to you or something, the one who travelled a lot. So you open the box, and inside it is something you’d never even heard of before now, and you love it instantly.

That was Dresden’s expression at that moment.

It was kind of strange.

“How can you know that if it didn’t happen?” he asked me, and the glee was there, too, laced into his voice. I snorted. I’d mock him for being such a geek, if it wouldn’t make me a hypocrite.

“You haven’t met a diviner before, Dresden?” I asked him, keeping one eye on the sphinx as I did. She didn’t move.

“Of course I have, but you can’t…you can’t see things that won’t happen.”

I frowned. “What sort of shitty divination would that be?”

He looked at me a little and said, “Huh.” He took a step towards me, and closed his eyes for a second. I wondered if he was trying to feel out my magic, and figured now was the opportunity for me to do the same to him.

The rush of power I sensed from him when I allowed it nearly overwhelmed me. And it wasn’t…it wasn’t consistent. I could taste the fire magic crackling around him, but there was water magic, too, cold as ice. Life and death magic interwoven around him. And that didn’t even begin to scratch the surface. “What the fuck?” I demanded, my voice coming out ragged and angry.

“I was gonna ask you the same thing,” Dresden replied. He looked mildly alarmed, his eyebrows raised as he studied me. “I’m guessing you’re not from where I’m from, huh?”

“What are you?”

At my question, he laughed. “I’ll show you mine if you show me yours.”

--

“If you are quite finished,” The voice filled the air around us, dark and smooth and rich like every chocolate advert you’ve ever seen. It didn’t come from any one direction, but we knew the sphinx was making an address. Sure enough, when we looked up, those emerald eyes were focused on us. “You may approach, after a demonstration of your power.”

I stared at her for the moment, irritated. How was I supposed to—and then I felt Dresden next to me, gathering his magic, and I grinned. I paused for a moment, allowing him to make up his mind, and then spoke, quite casually. “Well, in about thirty seconds, Dresden is going to set fire to the bridge, and, while it’s burning, he’ll freeze the water so that we’ll have a bridge to cross, and he’ll finish with some strange firework show.”

I glanced at him. He was scowling at me. “Thanks for stealing my thunder,” he said, and then muttered something that sounded like “asshole.” I feel bad for Americans, sometimes. It’s much more satisfying to come right out and say “arsehole.” The sphinx was expressionless, but I detected a hint of humour in her voice as she bid him do as I’d predicted…which he did, and I must admit, it was kind of spectacular. I think he sensed that I thought that, because the grin was back in place as we approached her.

We stopped a few paces in front of her, and Dresden gave her a very formal bow, which I copied. Clearly, he wasn’t as bad at diplomacy as this queen of his seemed to think, and the sphinx seemed to agree with me.

“Mab has taught you well,” she said, and it took me a second to process it.

“Wait. Mab?”

He straightened up and looked at me, a smug expression on his face. “Didn’t see that coming, Verus?”

It was my turn to scowl. “So, what, you’re king of the faeries?”

“No,” the sphinx said breezily, “But he is the queen’s consort.”

The reaction was immediate. Dresden’s smugness changed into extreme embarrassment and annoyance, and he spluttered, “Knight! I’m her knight. Jesus.”

She blinked at us, a long, slow blink that I think was the first real movement her face made. “I am Shai-Nefer,” she said, and now her lips moved as she spoke. The sight was distracting enough that I pushed the thought of faeries aside. For the moment. “My work is destiny. From you two, for whom it is so abundant, I ask only one thing – the truth.”

“Uh…huh,” Dresden said, folding his arms. “And why does Mab think sizing me and Harry Potter over here up in front of a sphinx is necessary?”

Shai-Nefer did not react. She responded in the same tone, “I owed the Queen of Winter a favour, and she has asked me to test your character. She feels that Alex Verus is a good candidate for aiding me in this task.”

“And how do I aid you?” I asked her.

“Why,” she said, and for a second I had the full focus of those eyes on me and all I wanted to do was cry, overwhelmed by her beauty and terrified by her very person. “By comparison.”

Dresden and I looked at each other. For half a second, our eyes met, and I felt the strangest pulling sensation – but he looked away even more quickly, and it stopped. “Well,” he said, with a shrug, “What will you ask? A riddle?”

“But one question,” she told him, “Which you must answer truthfully.”

“And if we don’t?” I asked.

“For you, Alex Verus, certain death,” Shai-Nefer said. I barely flinched. I had been expecting that answer, and, besides, certain didn’t mean the same to me as it did to other people. “I cannot, however, harm Harry Dresden, but I have been informed that his queen will devise a suitable punishment.”

“Course she will,” he sighed. “Alright. Hit it, baby.”

I snorted, but if Shai-Nefer was offended, or amused, or had any sort of emotional reaction whatsoever, there was no trace of it as she asked her question. “Very well. Alex Verus, Harry Dresden – which of you is the better man?”

I swear to you, it wasn’t intentional, but we both pointed to the other, and, at the same time, said, “Him.”

Shai-Nefer smiled, and that was the creepiest damn thing I’ve ever seen. “You may discuss.”

“Bullshit, kid.” Dresden shook his head. “You are nowhere near as in deep shit as I am.”

I laughed. I couldn’t help it. “Oh, you’d be surprised.”

He raised an eyebrow. “I know you might not have heard from him where you are, but one of the big bads back in the day in my neck of the woods was a man named Justin DuMorne.” He waited for a second, clearly a fan of the dramatic pause, and then said, “I was his apprentice.”

There was a long silence before I spoke. “Uh, okay?”

“What do you mean okay?”

“I mean, being apprenticed to pure evil? Been there, done that. What’s next?” I replied, arching an eyebrow of my own. “Ever signed up for a position when you knew it was goddamn wrong, when everything else has gone to shit?”

His turn to laugh. “Verus, I’m the Winter Knight. That means that I’m Queen Mab’s – yes, that Queen Mab--”

“Consort?” I asked him casually.

“Assassin,” he replied, scowling. “Ever killed a man, Alex?”

“One or two,” I said lightly.

“On nothing but someone else’s orders?”

“Yes.” I clenched my fist. I was getting irritated, and I could sense the sanctimonious self-hatred coming off of him. “Dresden, you might have done some bad shit, but I’ve done worse. I promise. I’m not a bad person, I’m trying to make up for it, but I have fucked up so badly that I—”

“Ever committed genocide?” he asked me.

I stared at him. And stared. And then, “No,” I said, cautious now. “Who--?”

“More like what,” he said. “The Red vampires – do you have them? – killing, blood-sucking, rapist vermin, and they had my daughter. Now they’re gone.”

I sighed and shook my head. “Okay, man, that’s terrifying, but it’s not exactly evil. You wiped out a parasite to save your kid. That’s chaotic good at worst. Let’s talk about human beings here, huh? Have you ever point-blank shot a guy in the head for being in your way? Ever killed a normal, human, non-magical person even when there were other options open to you, because it was easier? Or because it made you feel better?”

Now he looked at me, and I could see the repulsion on his face, even when he tried to hide it.

“Yeah,” I said, my voice weirdly cheery. “I’m a piece of shit. Let’s get this over with.”

“Verus,” he said, and his voice was different now. “Look at me.”

I don’t know what made me obey, but I did. Our eyes met, and there was that pulling sensation…and then I was somewhere else altogether.

--

The room was dark, but the second I thought this, a light appeared. There was a boy in the middle of the room, sitting in the centre of a circle of other people. He was only about fifteen, sixteen at most, and his head was bent, his hands on his knees. All of the people were whispering, and I knew he was trying not to listen, because, damn it, I’d been there.

At his twelve-o’clock, a strikingly handsome woman with dark hair and ethereal dress, a path of glowing stars linking them, beckoned to him in a soft, wordless croon. Behind her, two other women, one in white from hair to her intricate shoes, the other with a brilliant emerald dress and masses of red curls. At three, a man stood alone, tall, dark, severe. He reminded me a little of Richard, even though he looked nothing like him. He stood there, silent, watching the boy, a dim, strangely grey glow lighting his path. He was the only one not saying anything. That sent a shiver down my spine.   At six, a teenager around his age stood, encircled in the arms of…well, I guessed it was an older sister? The girl was in the stereotypical punk phase, or goth, or emo, or whatever they call it; blue and pink hair, bizarre piercings, ripped black clothes. I smiled a little. Luna would love her. The woman holding her looked almost identical in her facial features, especially the striking blue eyes – but there was a subtle, mature, otherworldly beauty radiating from her. Her skin seemed to glow despite the darkness, her shining blonde hair its own source of light. They were calling to him, too, entreating him to walk down their twisted, icy path, but I couldn’t tell if they wanted to be saved, or they wanted to recruit him.

And then there was the final path, on his nine o’clock. There stood three figures; a man, tall and gentle, plain but attractive, so strikingly ordinary with his brown hair and brown eyes and brown suit that he almost passed back into extraordinary. He was holding the hand of a tiny girl, maybe eleven at most, with dark curls that reached halfway down her back and the same, soulful dark eyes. Holding the girl’s other hand was a woman, short, but clearly powerful, her blonde hair tucked around her chin, her blue eyes wide with concern.

I knew I needed to help the boy, and I knew they were where he needed to go. As if sensing my thoughts, he looked up at me. He was terrified, I could tell, though he was exuding strength far beyond his years. His eyes, deep and brown, were determined, even as his lip shook. The eyes, the hair, the profile of his face…

“Dre—Harry,” I said, and he flinched, startled by the mention of his name. I approached, slowly. “Hey, Harry, it’s okay. We’re going to get you out of here, alright?”

“Who are you?” he demanded. His voice was rough, raw.

“My name is Alex. In the future, I’m—” I paused, then said, “A friend. I can help you.”

He didn’t look convinced, though the future part wasn’t what was phasing him. “Friend?”

I nodded. “Let me help you,” I half-demanded, half-pleaded. I reached out a hand. After a moment, he slowly got to his feet. I approached cautiously, and he, just as cautiously, took a half step towards me. We continued like that, veering towards the nine o’clock path, our hands almost touching.

Our fingertips met.

That’s when it appeared.

It had no form and all forms, skin and fur and nothing at all, eyes that bore into my soul, nothing where its facial features would be. It loomed up behind the boy, and I felt every inch of my skin crawl, my soul itself rearing up in protest, a scream only not escaping my throat because I was choking on it.

It put its hands, its arms, its…I don’t know…on his shoulders, and drew him to itself, and seemed to engulf him completely. Then it was gone, and his eyes were its eyes

Everything went dark.

Then I really did scream.

--

When I opened my eyes, it was like I’d just come out the other end of the flu. Across from me, Dresden looked just as bad, if not worse, as I felt. His face was chalk white, and he was visibly shaking, and I could see sweat on his brow. He met my eyes now, and there was a darkness there, and I could tell that he was as scared of me at that moment as I had been seconds before.

“Fuck,” I said, almost absently. My voice wavered and cracked.

“Yeah,” he agreed, sounding just as wobbly. “Fuck.”

“What--?”

“Soulgaze.”

He grunted the one-word answer, but it was enough for me to get the gist. If I’d gazed into his soul…that meant he’d gazed into mine. Fuck. Poor bastard. I didn’t want to know what he saw there.

A deep laugh surrounded us, and we turned as one to see Shai-Nefer looking delighted. It was almost as horrifying as that…thing from the vision. “Well?”

“Well what?” I managed to demand.

“Which of you is the better man?” she asked again.

There was a long, long silence, and when we spoke, we spoke at the same time.

“Both,” I said.

“Depends,” he said.

Shai-Nefer continued to smile. “This is your answer?”

We looked at each other, Dresden and I, and as one we said, “Yes.”

An eternity passed. Then she nodded, bowed her head, and was gone.

--

Dresden and I wandered through the mist together, talking about everything, neither of us referencing what we’d seen. I told him about Luna, he told me about Molly; he told me about Karrin, I mentioned Anne. We talked about Mouse and Hermes, Carlos and Variam. He told me about his daughter. I told him about Shireen, about Rachel.

It was strange.

We knew we were safe.

And then we got to the door. It just appeared all of a sudden, a big wooden door, and we knew it was time to go. “This is my stop,” he said, his hands in the back of his jean pockets as he looked at me.

“Yeah,” I replied.

“Good luck, man,” he said.

“What, no kid?” I asked, managing a grin as I held my hand out.

“No. No kid,” he said, and I took the compliment with the salt it was drowned in. He took my hand, and we shook.

“Good luck to you too,” I said, and I found, to my surprise, I meant it almost as deeply as I needed it myself. “We’ll probably never meet again, huh?”

“Probably not,” he said, and cracked a grin of his own. “I don’t need your shit in my life, anyway.”

“Same to you, buddy. Same to you,” I said.

He laughed, and with a wave of the hand, was gone.

--

I opened my eyes. I was in the bed at the hotel, just like I had been before…

I sat up. The sun was streaming in through the window, everything in its place, just as it was the night before. No, that wasn’t right. Something was different. I took a moment to feel into the futures, but there was no threat here.

I stood and approached the dresser, where I’d left the letter. It was gone. In its place, a jewel, ice-cold blue, and a note.

One favour, it said. For redemption between worlds.

I stared at it for a minute, and then held it in my hand. I didn’t know when I’d be “between worlds”, and I didn’t really want to imagine it, but, realising that today was the day I met Richard…

Hell, I could do with any help I could get.

I slipped it into my pocket, placed the note in my bag, and steeled myself for what came next.

[rubyboys-archive]

Mouth  In which a first year Harry stumbles into the Room of Requirement, and has an unusual conversation with an unusual boy. 

Read on ao3 (please oh god i need the validation) 

“I didn’t let you in here.”

The boy was older than Harry, taller just by a little bit. Harry hadn’t ever seen him before, but then again, there were lots of things in Hogwarts he hadn’t ever seen before.

He hadn’t seen this room before.

It seemed as though there was an endless supply of secret rooms in Hogwarts--round portholes hidden away behind squat statues, dusty trapdoors below beds, even whole corridors appearing that didn’t seem to be there the day before. This room was new, definitely. Yesterday, the Gryffindor common room only had a main doorway, and two open stairways to the different turrets.

Harry specifically remembered; he’d spent the previous evening with Ron, lazing upside down on the big armchair, giggling, with the rush of blood to their heads, about weird things each other had never heard of. For instance, Ron was not familiar with the concept of a computer (neither was Harry, really, as Dudley kept his large PC in his bedroom and Harry had only ever peeked at it through the gap in the door hinge, but he wasn’t about to say so). Harry wasn’t familiar with the Melda Merryfizz scandal of the previous summer: the popular singer released a line of dolls that looked and spoke just like her!--it was successful, until the dolls started saying very rude words, demanding ale, and trying to fire anyone who tried to play with them.

Harry and Ron had hung there for far too long, laughing, until their heads ached, looking at exactly this patch of wall.

Yesterday, it was graffitied posters of various generations of grinning Eighth Year graduates, a board of notices, and a long table in the corner for late-night studying. Right now, though, the posters seem to have been squashed, shifting them a little closer to the main doorway. The long table seemed just the slightest bit shorter, and the pinboard was certainly much shorter and also a little taller, as though stretched like clay, with many of its notices and tacks scattered on the ground below. It was as though another meter of wall shoved its way into existence overnight, making way for a black, shiny door.

The other boys were still in the turret, getting ready for breakfast. Harry was still in his pajamas; he had only come down to grab his tie from wherever he left it last night.

But there was a whole new room.

And it definitely wasn’t there yesterday.

Harry had stopped where he was, mid-step, briefly balancing the consequences of making unwise decisions, and the consequences of going through this exciting, magic door.

And he opened the door.  

And there was the boy, leaning against the room’s mantelpiece in his black robes, casting a cool look over Harry. Much like the boy’s rich glare, everything about him was polished and ready. Clean, dustfree robes, and gelled, neat hair, as dark as Harry’s--but white skin, not brown. His arm was slung over the mantelpiece, and he seemed to be chewing something.

The room itself was spit-clean and orderly. Cleaned so white, in fact, that the white sofa seemed to be flushed a shade of pale green. There was nobody else around. Nothing else, just a still, expansive silence.

It was clear to Harry that he did not belong here. Whether it was what the boy had first said--although that in itself was bizarre, as no one had domain over any room in Hogwarts, unless, Harry supposed, they were a teacher--or if it was the unsettling quiet.

“Who are you?” the boy asked. He seemed vaguely irritated, as if he’d had this anger at the ready.

“Me?” Harry said. The boy said nothing, and so Harry tried again. “Harry.”

A short pause slid between them, before the boy said, “You’re Slytherin,” cocked his head, and said, “and pureblood, clearly.”

“What?”

“Those robes of yours. They’re no second-hand rags. You’re rich. You’re pureblood. You’re Slytherin. Simple.” He stopped, not quite hesitating, but thinking. “Like me,” he said.

“Simple like you,” Harry repeated, trying for humour. This boy was weird, and intense. He must’ve been a Slytherin.

“No.” His frown seemed to carve itself deeper in way of response to Harry’s smile, dragging his dark eyes in to narrow. “Pureblood. I’m pureblood.”

“I don’t even know what that means.”

The boy’s hand twisted against the marble of the mantelpiece, like a nervous tic. He balled his hand and withdrew it to his side. “What are you doing in here, then?” He reminded Harry of Malfoy, or maybe of Dudley when Harry caught him sneaking biscuits at night in the kitchen. It was not comfortable, by any means, to be in the company of someone both indignantly angry and embarrassed--but there was a slight thrill, Harry felt, in this kind of thing. Undermining someone who was full of themselves. Standing up to a bully. Whatever.

Harry snorted. “Why, is it your room?”

A sneer rose over the boy’s face. “Could be.”

“It’s part of the Gryffindor common room,” Harry said.

The boy stared at him with alight, narrowed eyes. “I doubt I’d find myself in the Gryffindor common room. It’s just a bastardized version of Slytherin. Don’t you think?”

Harry frowned. He didn’t know what that word meant, but he knew part of it was a swear word from Uncle Vernon, and it didn’t sit right with him. “At least we’re not bullies,” Harry said.

The boy said nothing.

Then he raised his arms up in the air, closed his eyes, and stretched, yawning widely. Harry could see the wad of chewing gum gripped between his back teeth. It was as if the boy had quite forgotten Harry was in the room.

Harry shifted uncertainly on his feet. He thought maybe he ought to just go back and get dressed. This boy was really creepy. Ron would probably be able to name him, and recite some bizarre story that explains why he’s so weird.

“Okay, well. Bye then,” Harry said, and stepped away, starting to close the door.

The door trembled, it seemed, for just a second, as his hand began to pull it shut, and it alarmed Harry for just enough of a second for him to glance back, and notice the boy, and what he was holding all of a sudden.

“That’s my tie!” Harry said loudly.

A smile flashed over the boy’s face. “Gryffindor, then. It was in here. Have you been looking for it?”

A slight scuffle of noise twitched in Harry’s ears, and he closed the door, stepping definitively inside to meet the boy and reach out for his tie. He felt a bit embarrassed, although he couldn’t be sure why. He didn’t really want the others to see him talking to this boy now. He probably wouldn’t even tell Ron. He just wanted his tie back. He definitely couldn’t go to lessons without his tie. He had McGonagall first, and she was probably the fiercest person he’d ever met.

The boy held out the red tie, and Harry stepped forward to take it when it was pulled out of his reach, held taut between the boy’s hands.

“I’m Tom,” he said.

“Can I have my tie?” said Harry.

“And you’re Harry. I have a feeling we would get along well, Harry. You interest me.”

If Harry was in another place, maybe with his friends beside him, he would’ve pulled a face.

Before he asked again, Tom handed Harry the tie, dropping it into Harry’s outstretched hand rather than touching him. It was odd, but Harry didn’t mind. Tom’s hands were so large and pale they looked almost cold to the touch, like blood simply couldn’t find its way there. He was creepy, but a far cry from the flushed pink face of Dudley.

“Thanks, then.”

“That’s quite a scar,” Tom said. Harry raised his lip in protest, wishing his hair was long enough to cover that part of his face completely. The white scar crawled from his forehead to just below his eye, and it seemed to shine on his brown skin sometimes. It was embarrassing. Aunt Petunia always made a point of how Harry’s skin colour accentuated “that horrible scar of his.” Aunt Petunia always made a point of Harry’s skin colour.

“Yeah, well,” he said, pointlessly.

“Hm,” Tom said, uninterested. “Scars are dull. You get hurt when someone hurts you. Whoever gave you that--well. If it were me, I would’ve fought back. I would’ve struck first.”

Harry nearly scoffed. “I could hardly have done that. I was a baby when it happened.”

“Who would attack a baby?” Tom asked quizzically.

Harry wrinkled up his mouth thoughtfully. It was a bit of a relief to meet someone who wasn’t going on and on about Voldemort, even if Tom did mention his scar. “Bad guys, I guess.”

Tom sniffed. “Hardly. You’re such a child. There’s no bad guys, not really. Just people with power, and then other people who want to take it away. Basically, wizards, and the muggles jealous of them. There’s nothing wrong with being powerful. Don’t you think?”

“What do you mean I’m such a child?”

“What? Oh, don’t be boring, Harry. What do you think?”

Harry thought again. He vaguely thought about heading back, but decided he may as well finish chatting first. He could always go down for breakfast by himself; Ron didn’t have to wait for him. “Uh. I mean. I don’t really care.” Then he thought again, and said, “Also, I reckon you’re a baddie if you try to kill a one-year-old baby. Who cares how powerful you are?”

Tom bored his eyes into Harry with some severity, as if willing Harry to say something else. To be less ‘boring.’ “Whatever,” he said, finally. A laugh was swelling in Harry’s throat, and he coughed and shifted on his feet. “Something funny, Harry?”

Harry felt very small, and he didn’t much like it. Especially not at Hogwarts. “No, it’s just a bit--I don’t know, really. I’ve got to go for breakfast, anyway.”

“It’s been breakfast,” Tom said, bewilderingly.

Harry frowned for a moment, before letting loose a giggle and rolling his eyes. “Oh, shut up,” he said amiably. Tom was intense but it was okay, totally tolerable, if they could share jokes.

It was weird, sometimes. There weren’t as many people at Hogwarts as there were at Harry’s old school (“Muggle school,” as Ron informed him yesterday), but Harry felt like he was always meeting so many new people. This was definitely the strangest conversation he’d had with a fellow student upon first meeting, but it was still pleasant. Pleasant to feel as though he had friends. Even if everyone was so obsessed with Voldemort, and Harry’s parents.

But then Tom swore at Harry.

“Don’t be a bitch to me!” he hissed.

The words cut through the room like a blade, and Harry knew it was a really rude swear word, and he didn’t know what to do. “Watch yourself,” Tom added, staring, and he said it very quietly.

Harry didn’t know how to swear, except he knew it would be cool if he could, because then maybe he could make Ron’s older brothers laugh, or shout rude things back when Dudley was being nasty. But it didn’t feel like something cool now. Harry’s stomach stirred with flapping butterfly wings, and he chewed at the inside of his mouth. Tom’s eyes were very bright and cheery, and fixed on Harry’s worried face.

“You should leave now. I’ve things to do anyway,” Tom announced with an unprecedented fierceness, the same way teachers do to take the reins in an unorderly class.

“Uh.” It seemed Harry was dismissed. He fidgeted with the tie uncertainly, slipping it between his fingers. “Alright.”

“One more thing,” Tom said. “You should probably stick with me, Harry. People like us… The others will be jealous. And they get so stupid when they’re jealous. We’re above that. Stick with me.”

Harry took a step back. He definitely did not fancy sticking with Tom. He had Ron, and the other Gryffindor boys, and kind of Hermione, sometimes, when she wasn’t being bossy and everything. Tom was bonkers, and not in a good way. And angry, too, and intense.

“You said ‘people like us.’”

“I did.”

“Like what?”

Tom raised his eyebrows. “Come on.”

“I don’t know.”

“What do you mean, you don’t know?”

“I don’t know,” Harry said again, shrugging, smiling.

“Well, don’t be a dunce,” Tom said coolly, eyebrows raised. His voice was soft and high, and a smile played briefly at his mouth. It was kind of funny, Harry thought, and grinned a little back. Butterflies in his belly whirled faster. Maybe he should leave right now. Maybe he should spend some more time with Tom.

“I really don’t know.”

Tom laughed. It was like the knocking of bells against one another, bright and sharp. Coming off an exhale, he murmured, “You know,” eyes wide, for emphasis. “People like you and me can do it. Only the best wizards can.”

Harry looked at him. “The purebloods.” Was that what he meant?

Tom nodded, holding a firm gaze. “Exactly.”

“Right,” Harry said. “And what exactly are we doing?”

“Not doing,” Tom said.

It was with the intensity of Tom’s voice just then that Harry realised how closely Tom had approached. How had he not noticed? Their chests were inches apart, and Tom seemed to be breathing less and less, as if he was totally freezing himself still. His face was bent in close, unmoving, and Harry thought of that particular, icy fear he felt when Uncle Vernon got really angry (really, really, horribly angry), and closed his hands into fists. Tom wasn’t like that, right now, though, not thrashing around or red-faced, or screaming so hard his voice broke in two and he was left rasping out swears. He was perfectly still. And Harry felt distinctly like prey.

“Speaking.” His words came like the hiss of a snake.

“What?” Harry said.

Bang.

In barely a fraction of a second, Tom disintegrated before Harry’s eyes. His very molecules fell away into the air at the speed of a brick hitting the ground--with a loud clatter from somewhere behind him, the whole thing shocked Harry to his core. Harry jumped back, struck with a coldness deep in his belly, and jerked to find the sudden flicker in the corner of his eye.

Dumbledore stood just before the open doorway, with a scandalised-looking Filch, and Professor McGonagall, her brow dark below her hijab. Their splash of colour--red, green, royal blue--was a jolt to the room, bizarre in the environment’s unnatural whiteness. Behind them, Ron stared, eyebrows knitted confusedly, a smudge of toothpaste on his chin.

Dumbledore was unmoving, seeming to be taking in the scene with only his eyes, his mouth just barely open. When his gaze fell on Harry, he seemed to look at him the way one looks at a mouse on railway tracks.

His eyes flickered, worryingly, to the space where Tom had been--had been, because Tom was no longer there. It was no magic spell Harry had ever seen before. To dissolve into air, like that.

“What--?” Harry asked, but found he couldn’t organise his words.

“Well then,” Filch said, seeming to gather himself into something vaguely professional, and attempting a tight smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Seems young Potter here’s a--”

“No,” McGonagall said.

“Let’s--” Dumbledore began, sharply, and stopped. “Harry. Would you come out of the room, please? Carefully, mind you. Careful where you step.”

Harry stared back at him. “What’s happening? Do you know where Tom is?”

Filch’s leathery face seemed to split in two, his yellow teeth bright. “You heard him, Professor, you heard him. You heard the boy, you heard who he, what he said.” He was very nearly hopping from foot to foot. Harry felt a stirring of spite in his jaw. What was Filch talking about?

“Argus,” McGonagall said, in a low voice.

“You heard him,” Filch muttered.

“Harry,” Dumbledore said, reaching out, but not quite putting his arm across the threshold. “I do think it’d be best, for you, to leave the room as I’ve asked you to.”

“What just happened?” Harry asked, stubbornly now, even though he knew he really ought to listen to Dumbledore. He didn’t want to anger Dumbledore at all--but he felt as though, once he left the room, he would never know what happened. For as long as he stood here, right here, where Tom was (weird, spooky-eyed Tom), he could get answers.

The professors said nothing. Ron continued to ogle the scene from where he stood in the common room.

“I’m confused, Professor,” Harry tried, a little humbler now. “What’s happening?”

“Yeah,” Ron piped up. McGonagall glanced briefly back at him, and Ron seemed to take that as permission to get up on his tiptoes just behind her to get a really good look at the room Harry was standing in.

Dumbledore’s face softened into something like a smile. He was clearly thinking something through. “I will tell you, Harry. I promise you. But I would ask you to leave this room first. I do not think that it is safe, considering… the young man who was just present here with you.”

“And who was that?” Harry said, very quietly.

“Your Parselmouth friend?” Filch snarled.

“Bog off, Filch,” Ron said.

“His name was Tom Riddle, Harry,” Dumbledore said, “and I will tell you all about him. Please, Harry. If you will.”

He stepped back, and gestured to the open door.

Harry came forward, leaving the dead space, that Tom failed to occupy, hanging in the room behind him.

[readbookywooks]

'I didn't know that. I thought gods were just gods.' 'They don't like it talked about,' said Cutwell, shuffling through the heap of books and parchments on his worktable. 'Well, that might work for gods, because they're special,' said Mort. 'People are – more solid. It wouldn't work for people.' That's not true. Let's suppose you went out of here and prowled around the palace. One of the guards would probably see you and he'd think you were a thief and he'd fire his crossbow. I mean, in his reality you'd be a thief. It wouldn't actually be true but you'd be just as dead as if it was. Belief is powerful stuff. I'm a wizard. We know about these things. Look here.' He pulled a book out of the debris in front of him and opened it at the piece of bacon he'd used as a bookmark. Mort looked over his shoulder, and frowned at the curly magical writing. It moved around on the page, twisting and writhing in an attempt not to be read by a non-wizard, and the general effect was unpleasant. 'What's this?' he said. 'It's the Book of the Magick of Alberto Malich the Mage,' said the wizard, 'a sort of book of magical theory. It's not a good idea to look too hard at the words, they resent it. Look, it says here —' His lips moved soundlessly. Little beads of sweat sprang up on his forehead and decided to get together and go down and see what his nose was doing. His eyes watered. Some people like to settle down with a good book. No-one in possession of a complete set of marbles would like to settle down with a book of magic, because even the individual words have a private and vindictive life of their own and reading them, in short, is a kind of mental Indian wrestling. Many a young wizard has tried to read a grimoire that is too strong for him, and people who've heard the screams have found only his pointy shoes with the classic wisp of smoke coming out of them and a book which is, perhaps, just a little fatter. Things can happen to browsers in magical libraries that make having your face pulled off by tentacled monstrosities from the Dungeon Dimensions seem a mere light massage by comparison. Fortunately Cutwell had an expurgated edition, with some of the more distressing pages clamped shut (although on quiet nights he could hear the imprisoned words scritching irritably inside their prison, like a spider trapped in a matchbox; anyone who has ever sat next to someone wearing a Walkman will be able to imagine exactly what they sounded like). 'This is the bit,' said Cutwell. 'It says here that even gods —' 'I've seen him before!' 'What?' Mort pointed a shaking finger at the book. 'Him!' Cutwell gave him an odd look and examined the left-hand page. There was a picture of an elderly wizard holding a book and a candlestick in an attitude of near-terminal dignity. 'That's not part of the magic,' he said testily, 'that's just the author.' 'What does it say under the picture?' 'Er, It says "Yff youe have enjoyed thiss Boke, youe maye be interestede yn othere Titles by —' 'No, right under the picture is what I meant!' 'That's easy. It's old Malich himself. Every wizard knows him. I mean, he founded the University.' Cutwell chuckled. There's a famous statue of him in the main hall, and during Rag Week once I climbed up it and put a —' Mort stared at the picture. 'Tell me,' he said quietly, 'did the statue have a drip on the end of its nose?' 'I shouldn't think so,' said Cutwell. 'It was marble. But I don't know what you're getting so worked up about. Lots of people know what he looked like. He's famous.' 'He lived a long time ago, did he?' 'Two thousand years, I think. Look, I don't know why —' 'I bet he didn't die, though,' said Mort. 'I bet he just disappeared one day. Did he?' Cutwell was silent for a moment. 'Funny you should say that,' he said slowly. There was a legend I heard. He got up to some weird things, they say. They say he blew himself into the Dungeon Dimensions while trying to perform the Rite of AshkEnte backwards. All they found was his hat. Tragic, really. The whole city in mourning for a day just for a hat. It wasn't even a particularly attractive hat; it had burn marks on it.' 'Alberto Malich,' said Mort, half to himself. 'Well. Fancy that.' He drummed his fingers on the table, although the sound was surprisingly muted. 'Sorry,' said Cutwell. 'I can't get the hang of treacle sandwiches, either.' 'I reckon the interface is moving at a slow walking pace,' said Mort, licking his fingers absent-mindedly. 'Can't you stop it by magic?' Cutwell shook his head. 'Not me. It'd squash me flat,' he said cheerfully. 'What'll happen to you when it arrives, then?' 'Oh, I'll go back to living in Wall Street. I mean, I never will have left. All this won't have happened. Pity, though. The cooking here is pretty good, and they do my laundry for free. How far away did you say it was, by the way?' 'About twenty miles, I guess.'. Cutwell rolled his eyes heavenwards and moved his lips. Eventually he said: 'That means it'll arrive around midnight tomorrow, just in time for the coronation.' 'Whose?' 'Hers.' 'But she's queen already, isn't she?' 'In a way, but officially she's not queen until she's crowned.' Cutwell grinned, his face a pattern of shade in the candlelight, and added, 'If you want a way of thinking about it, then it's like the difference between stopping living and being dead.' Twenty minutes earlier Mort had been feeling tired enough to take root. Now he could feel a fizzing in his blood. It was the kind of late-night, frantic energy that you knew you would pay for around midday tomorrow, but for now he felt he had to have some action or else his muscles would snap out of sheer vitality. 'I want to see her,' he said. 'If you can't do anything, there might be something I can do.' There's guards outside her room,' said Cutwell. 'I mention this merely as an observation. I don't imagine for one minute that they'll make the slightest difference.' It was midnight in Ankh-Morpork, but in the great twin city the only difference between night and day was, well, it was darker. The markets were thronged, the spectators were still thickly clustered around the whore pits, runners-up in the city's eternal and byzantine gang warfare drifted silently down through the chilly waters of the river with lead weights tied to their feet, dealers in various illegal and even illogical delights plied their sidelong trade, burglars burgled, knives flashed starlight in alleyways, astrologers started their day's work and in the Shades a nightwatch-man who had lost his way rang his bell and cried out: 'Twelve o'clock and all's arrrrrgghhhh, . . .' However, the Ankh-Morpork Chamber of Commerce would not be happy at the suggestion that the only real difference between their city and a swamp is the number of legs on the alligators, and indeed in the more select areas of Ankh, which tend to be in the hilly districts where there is a chance of a bit of wind, the nights are gentle and scented with habiscine and Cecillia blossoms. On this particular night they were scented with saltpetre, too, because it was the tenth anniversary of the accession of the Patrician[7] and he had invited a few friends round for a drink, five hundred of them in this case, and was letting off fireworks. Laughter and the occasional gurgle of passion filled the palace gardens, and the evening had just got to that interesting stage where everyone had drunk too much for their own good but not enough actually to fall over. It is the kind of state in which one does things that one will recall with crimson shame in later life, such as blowing through a paper squeaker and laughing so much that one is sick. In fact some two hundred of the Patrician's guests were now staggering and kicking their way through the Serpent Dance, a quaint Morporkian folkway which consisted of getting rather drunk, holding the waist of the person in front, and then wobbling and giggling uproariously in a long crocodile that wound through as many rooms as possible, preferably ones with breakables in, while kicking one leg vaguely in time with the beat, or at least in time with some other beat. This dance had gone on for half an hour and had wound through every room in the palace, picking up two trolls, the cook, the Patrician's head torturer, three waiters, a burglar who happened to be passing and a small pet swamp dragon. Somewhere around the middle of the dance was fat Lord Rodley of Quirm, heir to the fabulous Quirm estates, whose current preoccupation was with the thin fingers gripping his waist. Under its bath of alcohol his brain kept trying to attract his attention. 'I say,' he called over his shoulder, as they oscillated for the tenth hilarious time through the enormous kitchen, 'not so tight, please.' I AM MOST TERRIBLY SORRY. 'No offence, old chap. Do I know you?' said Lord Rodley, kicking vigorously on the back beat. I THINK IT UNLIKELY. TELL ME, PLEASE, WHAT IS THE MEANING OF THIS ACTIVITY? 'What?' shouted Lord Rodley, above the sound of someone kicking in the door of a glass cabinet amid shrieks of merriment. WHAT is THIS THING THAT WE DO? said the voice, with glacial patience. 'Haven't you been to a party before? Mind the glass, by the way.' I AM AFRAID I DO NOT GET OUT AS MUCH AS I WOULD LIKE TO. PLEASE EXPLAIN THIS. DOES IT HAVE TO DO WITH SEX? 'Not unless we pull up sharp, old boy, if you know what I mean?' said his lordship, and nudged his unseen fellow guest with his elbow. 'Ouch,' he said. A crash up ahead marked the demise of the cold buffet. NO. 'What?' I DO NOT KNOW WHAT YOU MEAN. 'Mind the cream there, it's slippery – look, it's just a dance, all right? You do it for fun.' FUN. 'That's right. Dada, dada, da – kick!' There was an audible pause. WHO IS THIS FUN? 'No, fun isn't anybody, fun is what you have.' WE ARE HAVING FUN? 'I thought I was,' said his lordship uncertainly. The voice by his ear was vaguely worrying him; it appeared to be arriving directly into his brain. WHAT is THIS FUN? 'This is!' TO KICK VIGOROUSLY IS FUN? 'Well, part of the fun. Kick!' TO HEAR LOUD MUSIC IN HOT ROOMS IS FUN? 'Possibly.' HOW IS THIS FUN MANIFEST? 'Well, it – look, either you're having fun or you're not, you don't have to ask me, you just know, all right? How did you get in here, anyway?' he added. 'Are you a friend of the Patrician?' LET US SAY, HE PUTS BUSINESS MY WAY. I FELT I OUGHT TO LEARN SOMETHING OF HUMAN PLEASURES. 'Sounds like you've got a long way to go.' I KNOW. PLEASE EXCUSE MY LAMENTABLE IGNORANCE. I WISH ONLY TO LEARN. ALL THESE PEOPLE, PLEASE – THEY ARE HAVING FUN? 'Yes!' THEN THIS is FUN. 'I'm glad we've got that sorted out. Mind the chair,' snapped Lord Rodley, who was now feeling very unfunny and unpleasantly sober. A voice behind him said quietly: THIS IS FUN. TO DRINK EXCESSIVELY IS FUN. WE ARE HAVING FUN. HE IS HAVING FUN. THIS IS SOME FUN. WHAT FUN. Behind Death the Patrician's small pet swamp dragon held on grimly to the bony hips and thought: guards or no guards, next time we pass an open window I'm going to run like buggery. Keli sat bolt upright in bed. 'Don't move another step,' she said. 'Guards!' 'We couldn't stop him,' said the first guard, poking his head shame-facedly around the doorpost. 'He just pushed in . . .' said the other guard, from the other side of the doorway. 'And the wizard said it was all right, and we were told everyone must listen to him because. 'All right, all right. People could get murdered around here,' said Keli testily, and put the crossbow back on the bedside table without, unfortunately, operating the safety catch.