#by muggle or Wizarding law

[rantingoverbadfic]

I don't know whether to be thoroughly amused or indignantly flabbergasted. The british character is complaining to the american one how disgusting it is that it is perfectly legal to marry your own cousin.

All i can do at this point is pointedly raise my eyebrow. Because it is fucking rich for the american to be insulted by this fact, when Rudi Giuliani, the former mayor of New York, was quite legally married to his cousin.

[elisedonut]

Me: My favorite thing to think about when it comes to soulmate aus is actually politics and laws c:

the friend i was talking to: You know you liking Percy so much is suddenly making a lot more sense

[greenerteacups]

thoughts on Ginny and Harry as a couple?

There are a lot of people who find their romance in HBP forced. I don't think it's forced so much as underwritten, and the books don't get the chemistry quite right (though the movies certainly don't, either). There's potential, but they just don't get enough actual scenes of substance (besides Harry thinking she's pretty or feeling jealous of Dean) for a lot of readers to buy that they're not only in love, but deeply enough in love to break up, get back together, and wind up married.

That's not to say I don't see the appeal. There's a very cool scene in Book 5 where Harry's doing a woe-is-me-Chosen-One act, and Ginny effortlessly puts him in his place about it by reminding him that she was possessed by Voldemort at eleven, which is a rare glimpse into her character and also a great synecdoche for their relationship — Ginny is a grounding presence who, like Ron and Hermione, isn't going to be awed by his past adventures because she knew him before they happened. In that respect, Ginny's probably one of the few women Harry could feasibly wind up with, because he only ever seems comfortable around people (let alone girls) who can see past the Chosen-One schtick and treat him like a normo (see: Ron, Hermione, the Weasleys, Luna, Hagrid). True to type, he doesn't get interested in Ginny at all until she's ditched her celebrity crush and ceased to view him as an idol, because in his heart of hearts, Harry wants to be a normal boy, and it's stressed over and over that part of what he likes about his relationship with Ginny is how normal it feels. He kind of has a horribly supercharged version the celebrity dating problem: after the Battle of Hogwarts, anyone he meets is going to know him first as Harry Potter, Chosen One, Boy Who Lived, and Actually Fucking Resurrected Messiah of the Wizarding World, which is... I mean, it's possible that there are witches out there who could get over that, but Harry's not an extroverted guy, and I'm not sure how he'd go about finding them. Ginny's the one who's been there since the beginning, doesn't need anything about him or his past explained to her, and actually likes him for who he is.

When you look at it that way, it's not surprising he married his high school girlfriend. She's one of the few people still alive who doesn't see him as a demigod.

[twopenguinsinabox]

Quietly thinking about how Wizarding Britain is a straight-up dystopia tn. Like, even in the "good" years prior to Voldemort's resurrection, it would be such a nightmarish and fucked-up place to actually live that I feel like every time I read a fanfic where the characters conclude "hey, maybe we should just move back to the Muggle world which has neat things like rule of law and sexual consent" I feel like I want to applaud.

[anto-pops]

Sudsy Confessions - Sebastian Sallow x Female!Reader

Summary: As the end of the school year continues to creep up on all of the seventh-year students, Sebastian has thought about what’s to come after graduation shamefully little. He’s equal parts annoyed and worried that he doesn’t know what he wants to do with his life, and he’s even more frustrated that he’s running out of time to tell you how he really feels about you. When a chance opportunity finally presents itself, Sebastian seizes the moment, even if the setting is a little… unorthodox.  

Alternatively summarized as Sebastian confessing his long-harbored love for you while you’re naked in a bathtub. 

Word Count: 6.8k

Warnings: 18+, aged up characters, explicit sexual content, love confessions, bathtub sex

Full fic can also be found here on Ao3 with more diverse tags :))

It was rare for Sebastian to get so bent out of shape over Quidditch. Especially since it had been an unofficial scrimmage between him and a handful of friends– which he had still won, mind— but it was the topic of discussion that had transpired after the actual event in The Three Broomsticks that had gotten him all hot and bothered, and there was no way around the truth of the matter. 

Garreth had brought up graduation. 

It was a topic that Sebastian had done his best to steer clear of since he had yet to formulate a plan for himself after Hogwarts. Apparently Weasley would be starting an apprenticeship with J. Pippins at his shop in Hogsmeade, which had warranted a few hesitant congratulations from the rest of his motley group. It was obvious that Leander and Imelda assumed the same thing Sebastian did; that Garreth would probably blow up the shop soon after starting. 

Then there was Imelda. Headstrong, resilient, and determined to prove herself. She fully intended on trying out for the Holyhead Harpies Quidditch team after graduation and refused to believe she would do anything but succeed. There was no reason to doubt her at all– she’d always been masterful on her broom and had set new records left and right since Professor Black had reinstated Quidditch again. Sebastian only hoped that he was well out of sight in the event things didn’t go the way Imelda wanted them to. 

Leander had taken a bit of a sharp turn somewhere between the start of school and the present moment and apparently wanted to apply to work at the Ministry. Specifically, he’d been talking about joining the Council of Magical Law– evidently finding the power that would come with such a position all too appealing. Sebastian couldn’t help but think it was rather on brand for the Gryffindor to think as much, but his encouragement had been lukewarm all the same. 

Though he hadn’t joined them at The Three Broomsticks, it was already known that Ominis was also thinking about working for the Ministry, but with a different motive. He wanted to get more closely involved with the Muggle Liaison Office for reasons that continued to escape Sebastian. Whether it was to learn more about their differences to wizard-kind or to spite his family further, Sebastian didn’t know, but he was frankly inclined to believe the latter. 

Then there was you. The enigma, the mystery– the great unknown that had turned his entire world upside down from the moment you’d walked through the Great Hall doors two years ago. He had no clue what your plans were after graduation, and not knowing was slowly eating him alive. It had less to do with being kept out of the loop and more to do with his unspoken feelings for you– feelings that he had been keeping to himself for years now in a bid to keep his friendship with you unmarred. After your tumultuous fifth-year, it had understandably taken some time for the two of you to get back to any semblance of normalcy, and now that graduation was approaching, he couldn’t help but feel like time was slipping through his fingers. 

Sebastian’s previously upbeat demeanor had darkened considerably after that conversation, leading him to bail entirely on drinks at the pub in favor of returning to Hogwarts to wallow in self-pity. 

He’d moved in absolute silence following his return, a metaphorical rain cloud looming over his head as he’d gone to his dorm to grab his toiletries and a change of clothes before setting off for the Prefect’s bathroom. Friday nights were notoriously quiet now that everyone’s N.E.W.T’s had been completed, and Sebastian relished in the solitude that he always found in the spacious washroom. Sneaking in and using it was well worth the risk if it spared him from more idle conversations with his fellow classmates. 

It wasn’t unusual for the door to be locked– due in large part to the fact that it always was– so he undid the latch with his wand and shouldered the door open, barreling into the humid space with the grace of a hurricane. He tossed his items down on the countertop beside the sink and ripped his toothbrush out of his bag, shoving it in-between his lips as he turned the faucet on and rifled around for his bath soaps. Disappointment clouded his mind as his thoughts wandered back to you and the unknown future. It wouldn’t take much more than courage and a slim chance for Sebastian to get his feelings for you off his chest, but his fear of rejection kept him rooted in place. He was certain that at this point, it always would. 

“Keep running the water like that and you’ll drain the entire lake,” a familiar voice said from somewhere behind him. Sebastian damn near choked himself with his toothbrush as he whirled around to face the culprit, and then he found himself on the verge of fainting when he realized it was you. 

You were lounging in the massive tub with a smile on your face, not at all bothered by Sebastian’s sudden intrusion. Your hair was pinned up off of your bare shoulders in a messy heap, and the brunet stood no chance at concealing his blatant double take when he caught sight of your wet skin. The bulk of your naked body was covered by the scant spread of bubbles, but the tantalizing view of your collarbones had a flush rapidly spreading across his cheeks. 

“I– shit– I’m so sorry, I didn’t think anyone was in here,” Sebastian frantically mumbled around his mouthful of toothbrush. Dammit, he sounded like a fool. He ripped the thin stick from his mouth and spun back around to shut off the faucet and hastily gather his belongings from the counter. 

“You didn’t really knock to find out, but it’s fine. Don’t rush off on my account.” 

Your nonchalant tone made him pause, and he hesitantly lifted his head to stare at your reflection in the mirror. True to your words, you seemed wholly unbothered by his presence, simply continuing to bask in the warmth of the water as the steam wafted up into your face.

There wasn’t a chance in hell he could have anticipated something like this happening. 

Almost reluctantly, Sebastian dropped his towel back onto the countertop, instead picking up the paste for his toothbrush before setting to work brushing his teeth. He watched through the mirror as you raked your wet fingers through the free strands of hair that had fallen in front of your face, and the sound of the disturbed water dripping down your arms echoed through the space. “Did you win your scrimmage?” Your eyes never wavered from his in the reflection, and he nodded. “Go out for drinks afterwards?” Another nod, switching to brush the other side of his mouth. “Ominis and Garreth?” Sebastian shook his head. “What, Garreth and Leander?”

He mumbled around a mouthful of foam, “An’ Imelda.”

Your expression pinched into one of confusion as you mused, “I thought you didn’t like drinking with Leander.” Sebastian only shrugged in vague response before bending forward to spit and rinse, trying incredibly hard to not think about how very naked and wet you were presently. He was unsuccessful. 

 For a brief moment, Sebastian debated on changing into his pajamas and leaving despite having come to bathe, but something possessed him to turn around and contemplate you after he turned off the faucet. The easy smile on your face and your half hooded eyes almost knocked him out, and he swallowed thickly. 

What was it he had thought to himself just moments earlier? Courage and a slim chance? Was this not exactly that? 

“Hey,” he muttered softly, his voice almost a whisper. “What are your plans after graduation?” 

You tilted your head to the side in visible confusion, a strand of hair falling in front of your eyes seductively from the movement. He tried not to stare too hard. “Plans?” 

“What will you do once it’s time to leave? You haven’t said anything to me about it– or Ominis,” he added quickly. “We were talking about it in Hogsmeade earlier, so I was just wondering.” 

You seemed to ponder his question for a minute, your wandering hands coming to a sudden halt in the mass of bubbles. Truthfully, you hadn’t brought it up to either of the Slytherin men because you hadn’t come to a final decision yet, but it made sense that with the completion of your N.E.W.T’s, people would begin planning their post-Hogwarts lives. The thought made you equal parts sad and nervous. 

“I thought about getting a job at first… to make a name for myself and save money, you know? But honestly, I think I might travel. I’ve explored virtually all of the Highlands for ancient magic sites and I think I’ve hit a dead end. I want to learn more about Isidora’s magic– the power from the Repository is still as much of an unknown now as it was two years ago. It’s just collecting dust inside of me at this point.” 

Sebastian gave you a nonplussed blink and did his damndest not to sound paranoid when he responded. “Travel? Where exactly were you thinking?” 

You shrugged and averted your gaze to the bubbles in front of you. Of course Sebastian would be displeased to discover that yet another person from his life would be departing it so soon. It was part of the reason you’d been keeping your intentions to yourself for so long. Nonetheless, you answered softly, “Maybe to Poland. Isidora’s notes mentioned that she originally hailed from there–”

“Poland?” Sebastian’s frantic voice cut you off, and he found his legs carrying him to the edge of the bathtub to kneel there and bore holes in the top of your head from across the water. “You would go that far to chase after a maybe? You don’t know for certain if looking out there will even bring you any new information– it sounds incredibly reckless.”

You fixed him with a hard, telling look. “That’s rich, coming from you. Who was it that refused to let up in his search for a cure for all of fifth-year?”

His brows slammed down atop his narrowed eyes, “That was different.” 

“How is it any different?” You sounded exasperated, and he sighed indignantly. “You wanted answers, and you never stopped looking for them. You had nothing to go off of, much like myself presently, and you were willing to do anything if it meant saving Anne. I want to use this power for something good, Sebastian. I can’t do that if I don’t know how it works. Leaving is the only plausible outcome for me.”

“It would be that easy for you, then? To leave and disappear for who knows how long searching for who knows what? Would you have even told me if I hadn’t asked just now?” 

It would be that easy for you to leave me, is what he really wasn’t saying. 

You shook your head at him, completely bewildered that he was so affected by your revelation. “Eventually, yes, I would have. I don’t understand– why do you care so much? You of all people should know I would keep in touch; I’ll send owls every week, keep you updated on where I am and what happens. Going our separate ways was practically always in the cards, Sebastian.” 

Some tiny, annoying part of him had always known that. Living at Hogwarts was a blissful reprieve from the real world, offering himself and other students a sanctuary from the concerns and problems of adult life. Hearing you voice your thoughts was a completely different thing, however, and Sebastian was woefully unprepared for the dawning realization that he wouldn’t be able to see you anymore.

He silently cursed himself for having taken this fucking long to accept how empty he would feel without you beside him. 

“Sebastian,” you whispered from across the tub, and his eyes slid shut at the sound of your gentle voice. It hurt too much to fathom not getting to hear it again, or not being able to see you and crack stupid jokes with you in the middle of Potion’s class. He wouldn’t get to duel other students with you in Crossed Wands, or go to Hogsmeade to drink Butterbeers and stop by the lake on your walks back to skip rocks. All of it would end, and he would be alone. 

Again.

“Sebastian,” you said again, and the closer proximity of your voice had him cracking his eyes open. You were directly in front of him now, evidently having left your spot on the other side of the bath to siddle directly up to the ledge in front of him. Your wide eyes gazed imploringly up at him, and your grip on the edge of the tub was white-knuckled. “Why do you care so much?” 

“How could I not care?” He forced the words out while he still had the courage, seemingly gazing into the depths of your very soul as he stared down at you. His words had your eyes widening further as a flush crept up your neck onto your cheeks, and before you got the chance to say anything, Sebastian was leaning down to capture your lips in a desperate kiss. 

A surprised squeak weaseled its way from your throat as he lifted his hands to cradle your head cautiously, and you weakly curled your fingers around his wrists as he dipped lower to accommodate for the awkward angle. Sebastian kissed you hungrily and passionately– in the way he had dreamed of doing for years. He licked along your lower lip and bit gently at it, pulling a gasp from your parted lips before one of your hands came to rest on his bent knee, leaving a wet handprint behind in its wake. 

After a few heated moments, Sebastian broke away to look at you through his lashes, more surprised than anything to discover that your face was an open book; a mixture of shock and hesitance was etched into your features while something much hotter burned in your eyes, making his head fucking spin. 

“Sebastian, I– ah…” 

He let you go and sat back on his heels then, crossing his arms over his knees and resting his chin on his forearms as he peered at you nervously. There were a thousand different things Sebastian wanted to blurt out, but he settled for staying quiet as he waited for you to say something– anything.

You gaped up at him for a moment, blinking slowly as the flush across your cheeks darkened considerably. “How long?” 

He shrugged timidly before he said, “Ages. Since fifth-year, if I’m being honest.” 

“You didn’t… say anything?” His curly brown locs brushed across his forehead as he shook his head. “Why?” 

“After everything that happened in the Catacombs, I was terrified of fucking things up again. I didn’t want to ruin our friendship– I wouldn’t have been able to handle it. So I just… kept my feelings to myself. But now you’re telling me you would leave– that it was always inevitable things would end this way– and I can’t accept that. I refuse to.” 

You didn’t know what to say. Your mind was reeling from Sebastian’s revelation, and your heart was hammering away in your chest so loudly that you were certain he could hear it. Of course you felt the exact same way, but much like Sebastian you’d been worried about ruining things or complicating your already tentative relationship– especially after the events of your fifth-year. But now here he was– on his damn knees confessing to you– and your thoughts of the future vanished completely from your mind. 

Biting your lip, you stared up at Sebastian for a moment with wide eyes. One of your hands rose off the edge of the tub to trail your wet fingers across his cheek, and as Sebastian’s freckled face moved away from his arm to swim clearly into view, you stood straight out of the water invitingly and let him wrap his strong arms around your bare waist. As the water beading over your skin soaked through Sebastian’s shirt, his eyes flickered between yours, searching for the hesitance he’d seen there before. 

It was nowhere to be found.

When your lips met with his again, the softness had left them, and the two of you kissed one another hard and needily. Sebastian straightened and nipped at your lips, smiling against your mouth as you melted into him, and your breath caught somewhere in your throat when his tongue slipped into your open mouth to tangle with your own. Holding you tighter, Sebastian trailed his hands over your slick skin– traversing up your spine and into your unruly hair to tangle his fingers in the strands at the nape of your neck. He kissed you desperately, moaning softly into your mouth when he felt your hands sweep across his shoulders to fumble with the buttons at the front of his shirt. 

You’d made it about halfway down the row of clasps before Sebastian grew impatient, freeing one of his hands to deftly undo the buttons with a practiced finesse that made your mouth water eagerly. He panted along the curve of your jaw as he undressed, biting and sucking at the skin of your throat until he was pulling away to shrug the damp material off of his shoulders. His tie was still snug around his neck, clamping the collar of his button-up in place, and he growled as he loosened the thin bit of fabric before yanking it over his head and diving back into the kiss like he’d been starved of your very essence. 

Until now the bizarre angle had proved to be a non-issue– but then the pressing matter of his trousers came to light, and you felt as Sebastian blindly palmed at his belt buckle in a bid to undo it. “Need help?” Your coy offer whispered against his lips sent shivers up his spine, but he was too frantic and greedy to give you the chance to assist.

Those toned, capable arms released you so he could stand fully, his lust-dark eyes never wavering from yours as he finally succeeded in unlooping his belt from around his waist. “Just don’t move and keep watching like that– it’s helping me plenty.” 

You flashed him a mocking pout but did as he asked, settling back into the water and scanning his body longingly as he stripped down to his briefs. He teasingly ran his thumbs under the waistband of his undergarments and shot you a smug look, all too pleased with the way you licked your lips when he eventually began slipping the attire down the delectable ‘V’ of his hips. The sight of Sebastian biting his lip as his cock sprung free and arched proudly against his toned stomach had you halting your movements, though, and you audibly whimpered before the brunet threw his briefs over his shoulder and descended into the soapy water with you. 

In a flash he had you back within reach, his hands coming to cup your rear as he silently prompted you to jump into his arms so he could carry you through the water towards the rim of the massive tub. Your back bumped against the tiles there, and Sebastian took full advantage by pressing himself into you more firmly. The hard, stiff length of him rubbed tantalizingly against your folds, and you sighed contentedly before his mouth was on yours once more. 

The two of you languidly kissed for what seemed like forever, and you were more than willing to continue for as long as Sebastian saw fit. When one of the hands he had against your rear began to slip lower into uncharted territory, you smiled against his lips and huffed out an airy laugh. “Eager, are you?” 

“Shut up,” Sebastian murmured against your mouth, holding fast to your bottom harder and with greater fervor. “You have no idea how long I’ve been dreaming of this.” 

You arched your hips against Sebastian’s and drew in a shaky breath at the sensation of his shaft grazing over a particularly sensitive spot. “Then show me,” you implored. 

Growling again, Sebastian wrangled you around until you were kneeling on the ledge with your back to him and your hands braced on the rim of the bathtub. His hands were seemingly everywhere; sliding down your shoulder blades, scratching at the curve of your waist, then ghosting down the backs of your thighs as he nudged your legs apart further. You felt as he leaned forward to press a chaste kiss against the outline of your spine, and there wasn’t a chance in hell you could smother the shudder of delight that coursed through you. Sebastian moved on swiftly, though, and began pressing messy, open-mouthed kisses against your lower back, curling his hands around your hips before you felt him descend closer to your nether region. In your current position, it was just barely peeking above the thin layer of bubbles within the tub, and you heard the water slosh around Sebastian as he dropped to his knees and came face to face with your most intimate parts. 

The broad slick of Sebastian’s tongue sliding through your folds pulled a startled gasp from your lips, and your forehead fell against the tile with a soft, stuttered moan. The feeling of him tasting you– achingly and deliberately slow– had you shaking in earnest as you bit your knuckle for a semblance of control. You were struggling against the urge to rock back into his ministrations, eventually settling for reaching between your spread legs with your free hand to rub at your clit for some added reprieve, but then Sebastian slid his palms from your hips to your inner thighs to nudge your hand away. 

“Let me take care of you,” he whispered to you, and you mewled softly before tucking your hand against your chest and nodding. “Don’t hold back, either. I want to hear you.”

You were on the verge of responding, but the way Sebastian slid his tongue over you again drove whatever words you’d formulated straight out of your head. His hands ghosted along your skin as he lowered himself further, the tops of his shoulders completely submerging beneath the soapy water, and he took care to trail his fingers slowly down the sensitive skin of your inner thighs as he made himself comfortable behind you. 

Sebastian laved his tongue over you gently and encouragingly, then experimentally stiffened the muscle before poking it inside of you, leaving you whining and gasping his name. The brunet pushed his tongue in deeper then, moaning in response to the hitch in your voice as he pressed his lips against your folds and fucked the muscle into you slowly. 

“Gods, S-Sebastian–”

The man in question sighed and picked up his pace, flicking his tongue into you and dropping messy kisses against you. One of his hands slid up to your clit, brushing two of his fingers over the bundle of nerves with a moan, and when he leaned in hard to fuck his tongue as deep as possible into you, your high, airy whimpers made Sebastian’s head spin. 

With one last pump of his tongue, Sebastian pulled away, grinning at the way you twitched in response to his efforts. You heard the water stir and felt the warm, wet weight of the Slytherin drape over your back as he leaned forward to kiss across your shoulder, his hands running soothingly up the sides of your waist. 

“Fuck,” Sebastian breathed out, prompting you to turn and look at him over your shoulder. Your half-hooded eyes and parted lips sparked something in him then, and when you reached back to tangle your fingers in his hair, the brunet leaned in to meet you gladly. You moaned into the kiss, drawing a like-minded sound from Sebastian when you ground your hips back against his throbbing member. His thick hands gripped at your waist tightly as he gasped against your mouth, a desire unlike any he’d ever experienced overtaking him in a matter of seconds. The urge to feel you encasing him was overwhelming– enough so that for one brief moment, Sebastian allowed himself to press so hard against you that it stole your breath and smothered your senses. 

“Sebastian,” you groaned from beneath him. Your gaze sought him out, but his own eyes were pinched shut as he relished in the ecstasy that fell over him from merely grinding against you. It wasn’t simply the act itself that was doing it for him. It was knowing that he was doing it with you. Everything he had craved for two whole years was finally coming to fruition, and despite wanting to relish in every second of it with you, Sebastian was losing himself to his impulses. You called to him again, “Sebastian, please.” 

His chocolate brown eyes cracked open at the sound of your voice coupled with your incessant tugging on his hair, and his shaky sigh told you everything you needed to know; he was incredibly eager. 

“S-Sorry,” he stammered out, swallowing thickly in a way that drew your attention to his bobbing adam’s apple. You merely shook your head in silent dismissal, then rocked back against him to spur him into motion. If it was guidance he needed, you were more than happy to provide it. “I don’t know how much longer I can draw this out,” he admitted with a low voice, and as though to punctuate the statement, you felt his fingers dig into the skin of your hips to prevent you from moving against him any further. 

“Then don’t,” you insisted needily, yanking lightly on his hair once more to goad him into moving. “I’m ready if you are.”

“If it’s all the same to you,” Sebastian murmured, his voice gravelly and directly against the shell of your ear. “I’ll be the judge of that.” 

You shivered in anticipation when you felt one of his hands trail down the swell of your rear to probe at your slick entrance with one of his fingers. His other hand traced soothing circles against lower back, relaxing you further until you had melted against the rim of the tub with your neck craned to the side to watch Sebastian as he worked. 

When he sank one of his fingers into you slowly, you let loose a shaky exhale and felt a flush creep up your neck and onto your cheeks, leaving Sebastian biting his lip at the wanton image you made as he pressed the digit knuckle deep. Thrusting slowly, he eventually managed to work a second finger into you, trying not to think too hard about the way you looked spread around him, or the way you moved back against him, or how fucking wet you were. 

“Sebastian,” you groaned. His eyes flicked back up to yours, entirely certain that he looked just as fucking needy as you did– especially given the way you shivered and rode back against his hand a little harder. “C-Curl your fingers down a little–” he did so, and was instantly rewarded with a telling jolt from you. “Oh fuck– there–” 

The sound of Sebastian moaning to himself was almost lost in the way you were gasping and keening, and he moved his hand from your back to your hip to hold you in place as he followed the same path you’d instructed him to with his fingers. He thrusted a little harder, curling his digits against your sweet spot, and the way you arched your back and spread your thighs as far as you could without slipping while you gasped for Sebastian was fucking intoxicating. 

It was too much. 

Sebastian pulled his fingers free and reached towards you without a second thought, coiling his arm around your waist as he leaned in to kiss you again. You couldn’t help but whine at the way his cock rubbed against you, and you were near boneless in the brunet’s arms as his lips molded to yours and his tongue delved into your mouth. His strong arm held you fast to him as the other braced against the rim of the tub, holding him steady above you as he kissed you senseless. When he finally broke away to catch his breath, you practically sagged into the water beneath him. 

“Merlin, Sebastian…” 

“Are you okay?” The Slytherin’s voice was rough when he asked, low and raspy with arousal, and once you gave your enthusiastic approval, Sebastian reached between the two of you to line himself up before pressing into you. 

Sebastian’s eyes squeezed shut at how you felt around him; tight, hot, and utterly incredible. He just barely managed to keep his composure as he slowly filled you, and your scarcely stifled gasps and keening whimpers were decidedly not helping him keep his wits about him. Every fiber of Sebastian’s being urged him to ram his cock into you– to fuck your brains out and hear his name spill from your lips in breathless screams. When he finally did sheathe himself all the way inside of you, he melted against your back, holding you tightly and whispering your name against your ear over and over again. 

“Fuck, you’re…” you trailed off, subtly shaking against Sebastian’s damp skin. “You’re b-big.”

“Gods, darling,” Sebastian breathed, exhaling roughly into the nape of your neck. “Can I move?” 

You gave a stuttered assent, but you were still insanely tight around his cock, so for both your sakes when Sebastian pulled back a little and rolled his hips back in, he did so slowly in a bid to test the waters. 

No pun intended.

Your choked moan was more than enough of an answer for him, so he worked to set a slow, deep rhythm, buying himself time to get used to the heat wrapped around his cock. The gentle sigh that emanated from you coupled with the way your back bowed ever so slightly told Sebastian that his restraint was appreciated. But then you were glancing back at him from over your shoulder, and the rosy flush that colored your cheeks combined with your glazed over eyes nullified the majority of his self-control. 

Sebastian blindly trusted you to keep steady on your knees as he gripped your hips to thrust into you harder, moving faster and giving gasping moans as you tensed and groaned, squeezing him in the most perfect way. He pulled you back onto his cock, adjusting his hips so he could fuck into your sweet spot, and the way you arched under him and cried out was fucking amazing. 

“Oh f-fuck, Sebastian,” you moaned, reaching back to tangle your hand in his damp, brown curls, and Sebastian let you tug him closer so he could mouth along your shoulder, tasting the sweet-smelling bathsoaps as he went. The water splashed around you both, and you swore softly as a small wave of sudsy water sloshed up the side of the tub and sprayed you in your face. 

Taking note of your predicament, Sebastian slowed his movements and angled his head so he could murmur directly in your ear, “Do you want to move?” 

“We could, but– damn, Sebastian–”

Sebastian didn’t want to fucking move. He did want to see your face, though. He pulled out swiftly, and before you could move to climb out of the water, he grabbed and maneuvered you around so your back was pressed against the side of the tub with your legs bent over his elbows. When he reached back further to grip the rim of the tub on either side of you, he sank back into you with a low moan. Water wasn’t the most spectacular of lubricants as it turned out, but you were naturally slick enough that it was essentially a nonissue.

The expression that spread over your flushed face drove Sebastian a little crazy. He moved hot and slow, pulling back far with every aching thrust before filling you up and making you whimper. It’s exactly what Sebastian had wanted, but the way your eyes rolled shut just made him want to fuck you harder, water splashing in your face be damned. 

He leaned in close and nipped at your swollen lips, still rolling his hips maddeningly slow. “I want to fuck you so hard,” he managed, voice shaking. “I want to hear you scream my name. I want to see you fall over the edge so hard that you pass out in my arms.” He snapped his hips, just enough to make you cry out. “I’ll fuck you just like that. I’ll make the Prefects come running from how loud you are. I hope you don’t have plans this weekend, because you’re mine until the bell tolls on Monday.”

You whimpered and shivered under Sebastian, sucking in sharp breaths with every slow thrust, and when you rode your hips back into the brunet, he couldn’t help but let his head hang between his shoulders, his dark eyes sliding shut. The way you were sucking him in deeper was mind-blowing, the water flowing in waves around the two of you, until a burning, tightening sensation took root in your gut and made you grit your teeth together in anticipation. 

“S-Sebastian, fuck,” he thrust harder in response, grinding his hips into you and causing your back to arch with a gasping cry. “Sebastian, I’m– I’m going to–”

“Do it,” he gasped, leaning in to kiss you quickly and messily. “Let me see how you come for me.” 

Your nails dug into his shoulder before you pulled one hand away to begin frantically rubbing circles over your swollen clit. You rocked your hips back into his and worked yourself closer to your finish with a low moan, keeping your movements in time with his thrusts. The way you licked your lips and the way you watched Sebastian with a dark, fucked-out gaze made him whimper. You were so intense– your lips parting on gasping moans of Sebastian’s name– and it took a surprising amount of self-control for him to not just fucking blow it right then. Instead, he bent you back just a little further, just enough to see that needy expression fall back over your face as he fucked you just that little bit harder. 

Your moans grew higher, louder, breathier, until you were crying out and shaking in Sebastian’s arms. “S-Seb– fuck– I’m coming, I’m coming–” 

Your spine rounded and your eyes squeezed shut as you clamped down tight on Sebastian’s cock, a guttural whine ripping from your heaving chest as your climax washed over you. The dexterous movements from your fingers took you higher than you thought possible, and the way you barely managed to choke out Sebastian’s name was enough to send the Slytherin over the edge. 

He pressed himself against you and buried his cock deep, fucking you through your finish with short, fast thrusts while he moaned your name against your throat, his hands moving to grip your sides tight with trembling fingers. “Fuck, darling, fuck–”

Blearily, you moved your arm and wrapped it around Sebastian’s neck as he came, who was shaking and babbling far too loud for it to be muffled against your slick skin. You buried your face into his tangled hair, jolting slightly from every miniscule movement of his twitching member inside of you. When the bulk of his post-coital high had subsided, he began wetly mouthing up your neck and along your jaw before sweetly peppering kisses over your cheek. The demonstration brought a breathless grin to your face, and your hands found their way to the hair at the back of his neck before you wound your fingers through the strands. 

“Merlin’s bloody balls,” Sebastian gritted out, sliding his arms out from under your knees to hold them fast to his waist. You followed his lead easily and wrapped your legs around his hips, sitting up to kiss him contentedly as your palms skimmed along his freckled back. He smiled against your lips and murmured, “We should probably get out. I can feel how pruney your fingers are.” 

“Mm,” you hummed softly, pulling back from the kiss to hold one of your hands up to see how wrinkled your skin had become in the throes of passion. “You’re not wrong. But it would be counterproductive to not wash off all the sweat, wouldn’t it?” 

Sebastian gave you a nonplussed blink before smiling brightly at you in agreement. Almost reluctantly, he slid free from your welcoming heat and deposited you on the shallow stone ledge, then hoisted himself out of the bath to pad over to his toiletry bag. After grabbing all the necessities and jumping back into the steaming water, the two of you took your time cleansing one another, lingering touches and thoughtful kisses being exchanged throughout the process. Eventually Sebatian found himself sitting with his back to the rim of the tub, your smaller figure situated comfortably between his legs as he scooped water into his hands and let it run over your shoulders. If your slouched posture was anything to go by, you were incredibly relaxed, and Sebastian realized dimly that he was too. To be with you in this way was everything he could ever want and more, and he didn’t want it to end. Not by a longshot. 

“Let me come with you after graduation,” he said suddenly, his voice a mere whisper from behind you. 

Your eyes fluttered open as you processed his request, the bathroom utterly silent except for the distant dripping of water from the faucet, and before long you were turning around to face him with your hands braced on his legs. “What?” 

“Let me come with you,” he said again, conviction burning in his dark eyes. “To Poland. I want to do whatever I can to help you. Please don’t leave me behind.” 

All you could do was blink for a moment before opening and closing your mouth in surprise. Sebastian’s unwavering gaze only prolonged the formation of words, until eventually you furrowed your brow and uncertainty took root. It wasn’t that you didn’t want him with you– far from it, in fact. The events that had transpired just minutes earlier had only proven that your close relationship was something to treasure for as long as possible, and you were more than ready to do exactly that. You just didn’t want him to throw his own ambitions to the side simply because you planned to travel. “What about what you want to do? Don’t you have your own plans? I thought Professor Weasley talked to you about–” 

“I never made a decision,” he stated firmly and with a shake of his head. “The Professor had her own ideas about what I would excel at, but I never agreed or wanted to pursue any of her suggestions. I honestly felt like I was in limbo until now. My point is, what I want is to stay with you. I want to help you the same way you helped me with Anne, and I really, really don’t want to end up sitting alone in some office in London waiting for your owls to reach me. There’s always something missing when you’re not with me.”

To say you were an emotional mess would be a monumental understatement. Sebastian’s words struck something deep within you, something sentimental and desperate to come to the surface. He evidently saw your tears before you felt them, because he was instantly sitting forward to cup your cheeks in his wet hands before wiping them away with his thumbs. The concern on his face was apparent, but you were already smiling reassuringly at him before he could verbally ask if you were alright. “You really know how to confess to a girl, huh?” 

He let loose an airy, relieved laugh that drifted over your nose and chilled your damp cheeks, and you wrapped your fingers around his wrists as he smiled anxiously at you. “I had a long time to practice. Is that a yes, then?” 

“Yes, you can come with me. I would love it if you did,” you said, and the giddy excitement that radiated from the man was the most palpable thing in the room at that moment. “Two heads might be better than one, after all.”

Sebastian was on you in an instant. He coiled around you like a baby mooncalf and smiled so brightly that it easily rivaled the intensity of the sun. Water splashed everywhere as he spun you effortlessly within the bath, your capricious laughter reverberating off the walls of the spacious room as elation flooded your system. Being encased in his warm embrace was all the confirmation you needed that you had made the right choice. In turn, knowing that his future was all the clearer brought a sense of peace and belonging to Sebastian that he would hold on to for as long as he was able. 

It just so happened that presently, he was holding on to you. 

[my-castles-crumbling]

Muggle - @wolfstarmicrofic - word count: 104

They were fifty-five when they finally made it official. Though the Wizarding Laws were still archaic, Muggle law made it legal in 2014, and they were some of the first.

They stood in matching black suits, beaming enough to wrinkle both of their teary faces. Harry stood as Best Man for both.

Though only a few others were invited, the ceremony had enough love for millions. And as they finally said the words, both Remus and Sirius knew that they'd gotten the happy ending they so desperately deserved.

"I do," they both murmured, missing soundly, relishing in their joy.

And finally, they were married.

-

Note: the first legal same-sex marriage in the UK happened in 2014, 10 years ago.

[ellecdc]

Come Back, Be Here (finale)

Sirius Black x fem!reader - First Wizarding War Order of the Phoenix - 5.7k

p1 // p2 // p3 // p4 // p5 // p6 // p7 // p8

CW: mentions of past abuse/torture, amnesia, hurt/comfort, fluff, use of Y/N

A/N: Holy. Friggen. Crap. WHAT A RIDE! Thank you all so much for enjoying this story with me - it has truly felt like the most niche book club and I have had so much fun chatting with you all. Feel free to send in requests for these lovely characters in the CBBH universe - I'd love to continue playing with them! xx

Lily and James Potter returned to 12 Grimmauld place on the 3rd of November – Sirius’ birthday. There were long hugs, a lot of tears and soft dinner conversation, but there would be no gifts or raucous celebrating. 

Regulus Black was arrested at Malfoy Manor as a marked Death Eater, but with the backing of James, Sirius and Dumbledore, the Ministry allowed Regulus to be placed on house arrest, confiscating his wand whilst he awaited trial. Dumbledore assured the group that because of Regulus’ defection, his support of the Order, and the memories that Dumbledore, you, and those who were present on October 31st provided the Ministry, Regulus would likely be acquitted of his charges, or at the very least receive a lighter sentence. 

Tom Riddle was quickly charged with treason, tyranny, countless charges of the use of unforgiveables, countless charges of leading or causing the death of wizards, witches, and muggles, countless charges of torture and brutality, eliciting fear and chaos, and illegal use of Dark Magic. He was sentenced to the Dementor’s Kiss and the act was carried out on the 5th of November. 

Peter Pettigrew did indeed receive a fair trial for his role in the Wizarding War. He was questioned under Veritaserum, and it was found that he was guilty of treason, using unforgiveables, contributing to the fear and chaos of a treasonous leader, the use of Dark Magic, and sexual assault and brutality. He was sentenced to life in Azkaban.

Lucius Malfoy came looking for his son and was thus arrested by the Department of Magical Law Enforcement on the charge of being a marked Death Eater. He was questioned under Veritaserum which proved Lucius was guilty of harboring dangerous criminals, using unforgiveables, contributing to the fear and chaos of a treasonous leader, and the use of Dark Magic. He was sentenced to life in Azkaban. His property and vault at Gringott’s were seized by the Ministry and, after taking what was owed for reparations, was placed into his son’s name. 

The Ministry respected Narcissa Malfoy’s dying wish and placed Draco Malfoy in the care of Sirius Black and Y/N L/N. The Ministry offered the couple access to the Malfoy vault to support Draco’s upbringing, but they opted to leave it aside for the child to choose what to do with the fortune when he was of age.

Narcissa Malfoy’s funeral took place on the 7th of November. The blustery November air accosted the patrons which mostly consisted of Order members and a few of Narcissa’s friends who were able to dodge persecution for their roles or complacency in the war. She was awarded an Order of Merlin posthumously for her role - a title she now shared with you, Sirius, James, Lily, Remus, and later Regulus along with the rest of the Order of the Phoenix. Draco left his mother a beautiful bouquet of narcissus, baby’s breath, lavender, and pink camelia’s. You and Sirius gave her a bouquet of edelweiss, fern, and gladioli. Blue hydrangeas and hyssops came from Regulus who was unable to attend due to the nature of his house arrest but were placed at Narcissa’s headstone by Lily and Harry in the family plot of Malfoy Manor. Andromeda, Ted and Nymphadora Tonks stood by you, Sirius, and Draco at the headstone during the funeral service as Dumbledore spoke of the bravery, loyalty, and dedication Narcissa showed not only to her son and her family, but to the greater wizarding world on the 31st of October. 

“There is not one witch or wizard amongst us today that does not owe Narcissa Black Malfoy a considerable debt. Without her bravery and cunningness, evil could very well have prospered, dooming us all to life of immense pain and suffering. She dreamed of a legacy - of a better future - for her own son as well as for every child of wizard kind. Narcissa was a beyond bright student during her time at Hogwarts, a strong leader in her social circle, a skilled healer during the war, and an incredibly brave soldier. Though, possibly her favourite and certainly her greatest role was that of a loving mother; for she died to ensure that her son would live to see a better tomorrow. Narcissa Black Malfoy is the type of person, friend, partner, and parent that each of us should aspire to be. May her legacy of love and loyalty live eternally.” He said as he raised his wand.

One by one, every person present raised their wand to the heavens in honour of Narcissa Malfoy and her sacrifice to the wizarding world. Draco, Harry and Nymphadora, along with the Weasley children and Neville Longbottom who did not yet have their own wands raised a narcissus flower in solidarity.

The remaining marauders, you, Lily, and Regulus did indeed stay at 12 Grimmauld place for some time. The house was unrecognizable from the time Regulus and Sirius spent growing up there; it was bright, it was colourful, it was full of children’s laughter and squealing, it was a place people liked to come to visit, and it was chock full of love. 

The problem with the new and improved Grimmauld Place? 

Your tribe quickly outgrew it. 

As time went on, your memories seemed to return to you basically in full, and the full extent of your trauma reared its ugly head. For years you became hyper-focused on knowing where each member of your family was at any given moment, and a panic attack threatened any moment you didn’t have everyone important to you within your periphery. The Third Worst Day™ of Sirius’ life (in chronological order, the first being the day he almost ruined things between you two, the next being the day you ‘died’) was the day Lily and James suggested to you, him, Remus, and Regulus that they should perhaps fix up Potter Manor and move their ever-growing family there. It was partly the worst day because of how the idea of James and Lily moving away made him feel, but it was mostly because of the mental breakdown you had at the news. 

“You can’t! You can’t do this! I just got you back, we just got each other back. You can’t do this!” You shouted as everyone tried to get you to breathe. The numerous hands approaching you placatingly was in fact not what you needed at the moment, and you fell into a manic state.

Needless to say, the suggestion was not met well by you, and ended with you being admitted to the psychiatric ward at St. Mungo’s. Sirius sat at your bedside with your hand in his, Lily and James in chairs across from him whilst Regulus and Remus stayed home and watched the children. 

“I cannot live without any of you anymore. I’m sorry, but I refuse. I can’t do it.” Sirius admitted quietly to his friends as he rubbed the back of your hand with his thumb.

You had been dosed heavily with calming draught and dreamless sleep in order to prevent any seizure activity, which you became plagued with due to the trauma of the brain from memory retention and prevention throughout the war. 

“I can’t either.” James admitted, causing Lily to turn and face him.

“I’m sorry Lil’s, I know-” he cut himself off to take a steadying breath. “I know when we got married, you probably imagined us living at the Manor or maybe in another place as independent adults. After we lost mum and dad, I’m sure you imagined us taking that over in their place, and I think I wanted that too, but now, knowing what we know, I would have done things differently. I wish we had moved in with mum and dad and been there to enjoy their last few years with them. We had our own flat at the time and Moony, Pads, and Vix had theirs and I was so lucky that I got to spend as much time with Vixen as I did, being her order partner and all, but then she was gone, and I regretted ever spending a single moment away from her. Now...now I’m afraid that every second I don’t spend with you – all of you, any of you, my family – is a second wasted and I don’t want to waste another precious second. Not anymore. Not ever again.” 

Lily looked imploringly at her husband.

“You really are a bell-end.” She muttered fondly.

“Pardon me?”

“Do you really think I imagined us living alone in that big ass manor just us and our kids? What part of that do you think appeals to me? I love you, James, but a girl needs backup to deal with the likes of you.” 

Sirius and James exchanged a bemused glance before Lily continued.

“I want to live the rest of my life with my family. That’s you, James, and our kids, but it’s also Sirius and Y/N, it’s Remus and Regulus and Draco. Hell, if Alice and Frank or Marlene and Dorcas told me they wanted to move in I’d happily help them pack the boxes.” She laughed as she looked at you and Sirius’ intertwined hands.

“I think we’re all going to be stuck with one another until the end of time.” James said as he pulled his wife into his side.

Sirius smiled greatly at them. “Until all the mischief is managed.”

After that, the friends all agreed that none of them were willing to part from the group, and if for whatever reason anyone felt the need for more privacy, they would opt to build an outbuilding on the property.

“Oi! You’ve gotta knock, Prongs! Fuckin’ wanker.” Sirius had shouted as he hastily pulled the sheets up around the two of you.

“Uhm, maybe you’ve gotta lock the door, Pads.” James muttered with a mouthful of muffin as he came in to sit on the edge of the bed, completely unperturbed by the fact that the two of you were still naked and very recently involved in unmentionable deeds. 

Nevertheless, no one ever felt the need to build their own place on the property.

And Sirius made sure James got a taste of his own medicine a time or two after that incident.

Lily Evans Potter did indeed contact Healer Grundke at the end of the war and was brought on to work under her as an intern whilst she worked toward getting her Healer license. She spent many years in general medicine before moving fulltime to labour and delivery. Sirius often teased her that between the number of days she has spent in labour & delivery as a patient and as a doctor, he was surprised any of their other friends ever saw her. 

His nose was charmed green for a week.

Regulus Black was eventually acquitted of his crimes. He was placed on a sort of life-long probation in the form of a tracking spell on his wand that would alert the Ministry of him ever practicing Dark Magic. He opted to stay with his brother and his friends though he pretended to hate every minute of it. In truth, Regulus found great joy in being an uncle to Sirius’ and James’ children and Godfather to his best friend’s daughter Luna Lovegood. He declined the opportunity to join the Wizengamot, stating that as the rightful heir to the Black name, Sirius should be the one to take the Black’s seat.

Sirius Black, in Sirius Black fashion, dramatically refuted this idea. He did not want to pick up the mantle that was laid for him by the generations of Black’s before him; he refused to sit in the nearly still warm seat that his father had left. It took Regulus, Remus, and Lily all to tell him how much good he could do by not only bringing in a younger generation’s perspective to the Wizengamot, but as a wealthy heir to a pureblood line, a war hero, and an advocate for werewolf and muggleborn rights, he could bridge the gap between the left and right-wing members of the court.

It also helped that you had told him he’d be the only one capable of making the robes look punk rock. 

James Potter opted to be a stay-at-home dad and uncle to care for the children living at Potter Manor. The Potter vaults had enough money in them to last his family multiple lifetimes without every making a dent, and with the money Lily was making as a healer, there was no need to be worried financially. Also, being a kid at heart made him the absolute best friend of any child who met him. As the children grew older, he and Mrs. Weasley worked together to homeschool the children of the Order until they were old enough to attend Hogwarts.

Remus Lupin, never one willing to ride on his friend’s coat tails, spent the first few months following the war applying to various jobs through out Wizarding London. He had hoped that between his stellar academic record, his time spent as a prefect and tutor, his Order of Merlin, and his dedication to the winning side of the Wizarding War, that he would be able to secure a job within wizarding society. Unfortunately, it seemed the wizarding world still had a long way to go with the prejudice it held for werewolves. Walking through Diagon Alley feeling sorry for himself, Remus spotted a “for lease” sign in the window of what used to be a pet store. He immediately sent an owl to the landlord and asked for a meeting. 

Though Remus tried to refuse, Sirius and James insisted on investing in Remus’ planned bookstore.

“I’m not borrowing money, Prongs.” Remus muttered defiantly.

“It’s not borrowing, Moons! It’s an investment! If anything, you’ll be making me more money.” He exclaimed excitedly.

“Moony, please,” Sirius added...well, seriously, “think of how pissed off my ancestors would be to know I’m investing their money in a half-blood werewolf’s business which happens to stock muggle literature?” 

With a mischievous smirk, the deal was settled, and the lease was signed. 

Remus wasted no time to get started at the bookstore. He walked into the small storefront and conjured a broom, deciding to start by sweeping up the hay and owl droppings.

No sooner had he started did he hear the door chime. 

“Oh! My apologies, we’re not quite open yet.” Remus offered as he made his way to the door. He stopped in his tracks when he saw you and Regulus standing in the entry.

“I should hope not. This place looks awful.” Regulus commented with a wrinkled nose.

You elbowed him hard in the ribs.

“Looks like you could use some help.” You said cheerily as you held out a stack of papers. Remus took them gently to find your CV and cover letter. Before Remus could even look up, Regulus dropped his on top of yours in Remus’ hand.

“All my references are either dead or in prison so.” He offered with a shrug.

“I’ll vouch for him.” You said.

You were smiling at him so kindly and so sweetly, Remus wanted to cry. You had always been his biggest supporter; championing him through every milestone in Remus’ life. He was certain he didn’t deserve even half of the love you gave him, but he was eternally grateful for every drop of it.

“Thank you, guys.” Remus said wetly as he pulled the two of you in for a hug. Regulus groaned the entire time but when Remus finally pulled away, he had a slight blush. 

“Yeah, yeah. Well, what is family for?” He muttered which elicited a sharp gasp from you and a bark of laugh from Remus.

“Don’t be going soft on us now, Black!” Remus said with a laugh and ruffled his hair. 

“Fuck you guys, clean this barn up on your own.” He grumbled as he turned to leave, but the two of you wouldn’t let him.

He was grateful that you didn’t. 

Sirius eventually proposed to you – though beg was likely a more appropriate definition.

“We should get married.” He had said to you late one night as he came back to the bedroom after putting Draco down. 

You lowered your book into your lap as you considered him. “I beg your pardon?”

“We should get married.” He repeated plainly.

Your lip threatened to quirk into a smirk, but you kept your face blank. “And why should we get married?”

Sirius guffawed at you. “Uhm, maybe because we’re in love? And I’m the best and would be the best husband?”

You continued to stare at him.

“Why shouldn’t we get married?” He asked, now beginning to panic.

“I never said we shouldn’t.”

“Then why won’t you marry me?” He shrilled as he moved to kneel at the end of the bed.

“You’re the first thought in my mind when I wake up in the morning and my last thought at night before I fall asleep. Fuck, you make up the majority of my dreams too. Did you know that? Did you know that I go to the Ministry and count down the minutes until I get to see you again? Did you know that when you’re at work, I spend my time thinking about what you’re doing, who you’re talking to, what they’re saying to you and you to them? And not in a stalkery way, I swear. But I just think you’re the coolest fucking person ever and I’m jealous of everyone who gets to listen to you speak when I’m stuck at home or at work. And I watch you with Draco -our sweet boy - and our Godson and the other children and I get fucking giddy thinking that I get to spend the rest of my days with a woman so lovely. So, marry me. Marry me, damnit!”

It was a battle to keep your face straight but by the absolute grace of God you did before saying “Siri, babe, you’re coming off a little desperate.”

There was a brief pause before you got a “you cheeky little minx” and 45 seconds of tickling which turned into kissing which turned into touching which turned into so much more.

You were sticky and satisfied as you both caught your breath, still intertwined with one another when you said, “I will.”

“Hm?”

“I will.” You repeated as you leaned onto your elbow so you could look him in the eyes. “I’ll marry you. Marry me.”

Sirius stared at you in awe before pulling you down into his embrace for a searing kiss which once again turned into so much more. 

And you guys did. Marry each other, that is. It was a beautiful spring day on the grounds of Potter Manor with only your closest family and friends. It was perhaps a touch smaller than what either you or Sirius grew up picturing your wedding to be, but it was so much better than either of you could have ever imagined.

“...I thank my lucky stars every day that I get to love such a wonderful woman. There’s not one person in this world who deserves to know the likes of you, me least of all, but will do everything I can to ensure I get to keep what little light you’re willing to share with me forever. I have already loved you in sickness and in health, for rich or for poor, and in life and in death. There is not one planet in any universe, nor a timeline that exists where my love for you does not. I vow to you that you will never spend a day in this life not being loved by me. Wherever you go, I go; in this life and the next.” Sirius said through his tears. 

With a smile you began your own vows. “Sirius, I have had the absolute pleasure of getting to witness you become the man you are today. It wasn’t always easy or pretty, but I have seen you through it all; the good, the bad, the really bad, and the ugly. And I have loved you through all of it. As I laid dying, I told James that I didn’t regret a single moment of this life with you, and that is still true today. Every moment, all the blood, sweat, and tears, brought us here today - and I would still do all of it again if it meant getting to stand here today by your side. I made a vow that I would find you in our next life and I would love you there too. Well, here I am. I found you. I will always find you.”

Lily, Marlene, and Alice stood by your side, and James, Remus, and Regulus stood by Sirius’ as your magic was bound together, and you were pronounced husband and wife.

Sirius hung the framed parchment that Remus had found in the wooded area where he first met Regulus in his office. The note symbolized your dedication to him, to your friends and family, and your unyielding perseverance. The parchment was later joined by your wedding pictures, drawings that he and Harry had painted back in Grimmauld place as well as pictures Harry and Draco had given him since, and the first ever check he received for his investment in A Marauder’s Map to Books. 

You loved working at Moony’s bookstore; everyday felt like getting to hang out with your best friends even though you pretty much lived with them as well. It was nice to see Remus and Regulus in a setting outside of the parental/guardian role you’d all taken on following the war. You were surprised at first (though you supposed you should have known better) that Remus and Regulus worked really well together – Regulus’ uptight and serious façade was well balanced with Remus’ laidback and jovial personality. Regulus would handle the more difficult customers whilst Remus made sure every customer who came in felt welcome. Things often fell by the wayside or got overlooked when Remus was away due to the moons, and Regulus was quick to pick up the slack. Regulus would often get too caught up in work and forget to stay fed or hydrated, which Remus counteracted by briskly walking past Regulus and placing biscuits and cups of tea brewed exactly to Regulus’ liking before he could refuse. If you noticed Regulus’ cheeks tinge peak and a shy smile grace his lips – you didn’t mention it. 

Draco grew to be a very happy child; you and Sirius couldn’t help but feel a sense of pride every time that boy giggled or laughed. You kept your word and left the Malfoy vaults untouched save twice a year when Narcissa would purchase a gift for Draco on June 5th and December 25th. 

He was such a good son and an even better big brother. 

Draco was the most jealous of Harry when Harry became a big brother to his sister Jasmine Potter. It was hard not to chuckle at how proud the four-and-a-half-year-old was as he bragged about being the ‘bestest big brother’ and watching Draco skulk around the house. 

“I could be a big brother! Really, I could. I’d be so nice and gentle, and I would share all my toys!” He told you and Sirius solemnly as you tucked him in to bed. You assured him he would indeed be a wonderful big brother, but not to worry about it too much as you were sure Lily and James could use two big brothers for their newest addition. 

You both gave him kisses goodnight and closed the door behind you. You’d hardly made it two steps from the door before your husband had you pushed up against the wall. 

“I could be a really good daddy too, you know?” He whispered into your neck before starting to suck on your pulse point.

You couldn’t stifle the moan that escaped your lips. “Are you trying to tell me something?” 

Sirius kissed his way back up your jaw before slotting his lips against yours. “Perhaps we should give the kid what he wants.” He managed between kisses.

You chuckled.

“He gets everything he wants already, Siri.” You whispered back as you pulled his body flush with yours.

“What about me, hm?”

You pulled your head back to search his face. “Do you want another baby, Sirius?”

Sirius’ pupils seemed to blow wide at the sentiment. “I don’t so much want a baby as I want your baby, my love.” He whispered reverently.

Your restraint snapped and you launched yourself at him. He caught you as your legs wrapped around his waist and your arms around his neck, carrying you down the hall to your bedroom.  

Approximately ten months later you gave birth to your daughter Aurora Black.

September 1st, Kings Cross Station

“Merlin’s saggy balls, how do you – for fuck sa– oh, got it!” Sirius could be heard behind you as he fought with the pram. 

“Would you watch your mouth?” Lily muttered.

“Yeah Pads, watch your fuckin’ mouth!” James loudly announced causing other parents to look over at the absolute freak show that was the Potter & Black family’s stepping onto Platform 9 ¾.

“Sorry.” You offered with a quiet smile to a particularly perturbed looking couple as they grabbed their smarmy looking child and ushered him away from the likes of you. “Wankers.” You muttered as they hobbled off.

“Who’s a wanker, mum?” Draco asked as he slid up beside you. The rotten child knew he wasn’t supposed to use such language but couldn’t pass the chance at getting to repeat your nasty comment.

“Presently, it’s you.” You commented while teasingly narrowing your eyes at him. 

“Oi, leave your poor mum alone! You’re buggering off to Hogwarts and leaving her with the likes of me for the next ten months.” Sirius said as he (finally) made his way to you with the pram in tow. The three-year-old twins seemed none the wiser that they just nearly got folded into the damned thing and thrown onto the tracks in a fit of rage. 

“My deepest condolences during this trying time.” Draco offered you severely.

Sirius scoffed and you laughed as you pulled him into an embrace. You were waiting for the day he pushed you away because hugging your mom goodbye in front of your friends was embarrassing. But today, you relished in the feeling of your first child letting you hold him tight.

“I’m so proud of you, Draco.” You murmured into his platinum hair.

“Thank you, mum.” He responded quietly. 

“Draco! Harry! Over here!” The sound of Hermione Granger interrupted your hug as Draco turned to wave at his friends. 

“Be good kid, okay? Look out for your sister?” Sirius asked as he pulled Draco into his own embrace.

“’Course, dad. I’m not new here.” He teased as he ruffled Aurora’s hair.

“Draaaccoooo...” She whined in response.

“Go see ‘Mione.” You ordered Draco with one last side hug. Harry and Draco swapped parents and siblings to give their respective goodbyes before heading off to catch up with their friends. 

“Are you ready, Rory?” Jasmine Potter asked your daughter kindly. She was a year above Aurora and was very excited to get the chance to show her younger cousin around the castle. 

Your daughter looked between her cousin and her parents before Sirius spoke up. “Jazz, do you mind giving us a minute?” He asked his Goddaughter.  

Jasmine turned to talk to James and Lily who were busy entertaining Posie and Lyra as you and Sirius bent down to talk to Aurora.

“What’s on your mind, love?” You asked your daughter gently.

Your heart welled as Aurora’s eyes turned glassy.

“I’m not ready.”

Sirius made a cooing sound as he wiped the tears from under her lash line. “What are you most worried about, my little star?”

Aurora sniffled miserably. “What if I’m sorted into the wrong house?”

You and Sirius couldn’t help but rear your head at the comment. Out of all the things you thought would be worrying your daughter on her first day of boarding school, which house she got sorted into was not it.

“Rory, that’s the exciting part baby.” You tried as you rubbed her arm consolingly.

“I get it, Ro, I was worried about which house I was going to be sorted into as well.” Sirius commented.

Aurora rubbed a fist against her eye as she turned to consider her father. “Really?”

Sirius nodded solemnly. “Really. You see, I came from a long line of proud Slytherins. I was supposed to get sorted into that house too, because I was supposed to be just like them. But I couldn’t be like them, I could only be like me. So, I was sorted in Gryffindor, even though my family didn’t like it.” 

“Did you get in trouble?”

Sirius nodded sadly. “I did.”

“But Ro, you know that no matter what house you get sorted into, me and daddy are going to be so, so, so proud of you. And we’ll be proud of you because you’re you, not because you were sorted into Ravenclaw or Gryffindor or Hufflepuff or Slytherin.” You added with a soft smile.

Aurora seemed to consider this. “Well, Harry and Jazzy are in Gryffindor, and Draco is in Slytherin. I’d like to be in one of those I think.”

You nodded at her, but it was Sirius who answered.

“That’d be pretty cool, huh? But listen, I met the most fantastic people in my house even though I knew no one in it when I first got sorted. Uncle Prongs and Uncle Moony were my dormmates for seven years and look at us now! Completely co-dependent and still living together.”

“What is co-dependent?” Aurora asked with furrowed brows.

“Not important. What I’m trying to say is, Rory, you are going to give that hat a run for its money, you know why?” Sirius asked.

Aurora shook her head.

“Because you are your mother’s daughter. And she is the the most loyal, the most cunning, the bravest and the smartest person I know. You’ve been raised by the most spectacular person, and any one of those houses will be lucky to have you. Got it?”

You watched as Rory took a deep breath and squared her shoulders before offering her dad a solid nod.

“Atta girl!” He said as he enveloped her in a hug and kissed her head. “You show that sorting hat who’s boss.” 

Aurora chuckled as she moved to hug you.

“I’m so proud of you, my love.” You said into her hair. She tightened her hold on you before letting go and stepping back.

“I think we’re ready for you, Jazzy.” You called, and the older girl came and took Aurora’s hand as they headed towards Draco and Harry to board the train.

James and Sirius wolf whistled and hollered, waving frantically as they watched the kids walk away. Hermione, Harry and Draco chuckled while Neville and Ron turned beat red at the attention.

You propped Lyra on your hip and the two of you continued to wave as the train pulled away. None of you stopped waving until you couldn’t see your babies anymore.

A sob tore its way through James, and you looked over to see Lily making alarmed eye contact with you as she awkwardly patted his arm and he and Sirius leaned into each other.

“First time?” An older woman asked as she went to walk past you.

“No” was yours and Lily’s chorused response as you peeled your husband away from his best mate and moved him toward the pram where your youngest two sat forgotten. 

“Lord, is it going to be this bad every time we send one of the kids off the first time?”

“It’ll be worse!” Sirius cried emphatically as he fell into your arms, basically crushing poor Lyra who was still sat on your hip. You looked over to Lily hoping for help only to see her in a similar predicament. 

“Sirius Black, at this rate our youngest three won’t ever want to come back to Kings Cross Station.” You muttered as you moved Lyra to your other hip so you could support your husband’s weight.

“Good! Then they’ll never leave me!” 

Your heart twinged as you patted Sirius’ back.

“Siri, look at me.” 

For a moment you thought he might refuse, but he unfolded himself slowly and stood to look at you. 

“This is what we fought for, my love.” You said as you caressed his cheek. “So that our babies could go to Hogwarts and learn and be children and be free and be safe.”

“I still hate it.”

You laughed at his petulance. “Me too, actually. Do you think Hogwarts is hiring? What if we all just move there?”

“Great idea, Vix!” James cheered from beside you, eyes rimmed and cheeks glistening. “Lily flower could work in the infirmary, Padfoot could teach astronomy, you could teach muggle studies, I could teach flying, Moony could teach defence against the dark arts and Regulus could teach potions! It’s perfect!”

Though you had to admit this plan of James’ actually sounded pretty perfect, your attention turned to little Posie falling asleep in Lily’s arms. 

“Why don’t we discuss this more once we get these kiddos down for a nap, hm?”

Sirius found you later sitting in the sunroom with a book in hand. He thought you made the prettiest picture sitting in the soft sun filtering through the leaves of the trees outside, plants surrounding you with your nose buried in a book. So, he took a picture. 

“I wasn’t ready!” You whined with a smile on your face.

“You’re always ready.” He said as he pressed a kiss to your lips. “I’m sorry I was such a mess at the train station today.” He said as he lifted your legs off the loveseat to sit down and replace them atop his lap.

“You don’t have to apologize, Siri.” You said as you tapped him with your book. 

“I’m supposed to be the one taking care of you.” He commented, his gaze seemed far away as he watched the branches dance in the September breeze.

“You can do that tomorrow.” You whispered back.

A smile graced his face before he turned to look at you. “I love you; did you know? I don’t think I say it enough, but I do; I love you.”

He punctuated his sentence with three loving squeezes of the fat of your thigh.

“Sirius. Every breath I take means ‘I love you’.” You responded and sealed it with a kiss. 

You got an owl from Draco and Aurora later that night.

Aurora was a hat stall.

She was also sorted into the same house as her mum.

Thank you so much for reading! Can't get enough? Check out these CBBH themed one shots, or, feel free to request a one-shot from your faves in this universe!

[saintsenara]

Do you think the wizarding world even has a concept of rape? I don't think this was JKR's intent but love potions are considered perfectly legal, Romilda Vane doesn't get in trouble, Dumbledore doesn't seem to think Merope did anything wrong to Tom Riddle Sr., and despite a member of Magical Law Enforcement witnessing lots of sketchy stuff at the Gaunts' no one steps in to help Merope. Plus we know their society is archaic and lacks modern values - ie. quills, slavery, lack of democracy

it's a great question pal.

the answer for which is under the cut, for the obvious reason that it comes with a trigger warning for rape.

when the statute of secrecy was signed in 1689, rape - defined as "the carnal knowledge of a woman forcibly and against her will" - had been illegal under english law since the middle ages.

however, the "against her will" bit is important here. in the seventeenth century, it was a legal requirement for a victim of rape to prove that she had maintained a continuous state of physical resistance during her assault. in cases where a victim could not prove this, her consent was presumed - even if she had been incapacitated in some way. unsurprisingly, consent was always assumed between husbands and wives.

men could not be raped under the letter of seventeenth-century english law - but the rape and sexual assault of men was illegal under buggery [sodomy] laws, and was often taken much more seriously by the state...

and i think we can plausibly say - should we want to - that, on the basis of what we find in canon, the wizarding world might retain this legal requirement for rape to be indisputably resisted, and that this explains why love potions seem to have no repercussions attached to them.

because, of course, love potions essentially function like date rape drugs, even if they leave their victims appearing to be of sound mind [the officiant who married tom and merope wasn't suspicious of anything, for example - and the only reason ron is so badly affected by the love potion he takes is because it was out of date]. they incapacitate a person to the extent that they cannot offer legitimate consent to sexual acts, and they also incapacitate them to the extent that they cannot physically resist their attacker - in their case, by compelling the person dosed with the potion to regard their attacker as someone they want to have near them.

therefore, if wizarding law only considers rape to be something which is accompanied by evidence of resistance... then using a love potion on somebody would not be rape.

the cultural implications of this are fascinating - especially since [no matter what jkr thinks] the wizarding world appears to be restrictive [by the standards of muggle britain in the 1990s and 2000s - although, unfortunately for those of us on our high horses about coming from a superior nation, not by the standards of muggle ireland...] in terms of conventions surrounding sexual behaviour and gendered expectations placed upon women.

the marriage age for women is extremely low [any woman whose wedding date we can pin-point in canon - molly weasley, andromeda tonks, lily potter, fleur delacour - gets married as a teenager]; the age for having children is also much lower than it was in the muggle world - and even than it was in the muggle world of the 1940s-1980s [all four of the women above fall pregnant before they're twenty-one, for example]; unmarried couples don't seem to live together, and there's clearly a social taboo against premarital sex [molly weasley gets a lot of flack from the fandom for making bill and fleur sleep in separate bedrooms, but nobody in the story regards this as prudish or old-fashioned]; divorce doesn't seem to be common [and blaise zabini's mother killing her husbands certainly takes on a new flavour if we assume that divorce is extremely difficult... or even illegal]; and married women - at least in the middle- and upper-classes - don't seem to work.

i also think that it's canonically plausible that arranged marriage, including between cousins, is a common cultural practice [sirius' comment in order of the phoenix about parents "letting" their children marry basically confirms this, i think] - which means we can also imagine, if we'd like, that there's perhaps little legal distinction between arranged and forced marriage.

obviously - obviously - i don't think that any of these are things the doylist text intended. the reason the story says very little about sex - both consensual and otherwise - or law or gender norms is because the harry potter series is a story about a boy-wizard who goes to a cool magic school and fights a good-versus-evil battle to the death which was written for children. i don't begrudge the publishers for not fancying a hundred pages on harry learning how to put on a condom...

[and the low marriage/childbearing ages genuinely seem to be because jkr is functionally innumerate and didn't realise how young she was suggesting everyone was...]

but from a watsonian perspective, they're really interesting - especially for the extremely disturbing paths they can lead us down as authors when we're trying to flesh out the worldbuilding of magical britain.

what - for example - is the wizarding age of consent? and how would this impact how wizards understand sexual maturity, adult-child power relations, and child abuse?

[after all, if the age of consent is unchanged from 1689... it could be as low as ten. which goes some way towards explaining why nobody thinks of tom riddle as grooming ginny...]

does the law consider it possible for a wizard to rape his wife? and if it doesn't, what does it think about him beating her?

what legal rights do sex workers have in the wizarding world?

is abortion legal? is contraception? is homosexuality? does gay sex have a higher age of consent?

is divorce legal? can women initiate a divorce? how are single mothers treated [and, therefore, what was lupin willing to do to tonks by walking out on her]? how are the children of unmarried parents treated? what property and inheritance rights do women have? are marriages performed by muggles - or dissolved by them - recognised by the wizarding state? what position does this put a witch [like eileen snape] who marries a muggle man in? would a wizard who marries a muggle woman and then abandons her be committing bigamy if he married a witch?

would wizards ever be punished for sexual offences against muggle women? does merope get away with attacking tom sr. in the eyes of the wizarding state because of her gender or because he's a muggle or both? could a muggle raped by a wizard even report the crime?

what modesty standards are there in terms of dress and behaviour? what would wizarding feminism look like? what is it like to be muggleborn [especially from the 1960s onwards] and enter this world?

i think i'm inclined to take the grimmest possible view of all of these questions, to be quite honest...

the wizarding world is fucked up.

[therealvinelle]

Can I hear your opinions on rita skeeter?

You know how some stories have that only sane man, the one person who isn't impressed by our dashing main characters or who's living in a different genre and rated story? The one, typically a fan favorite, character who has a fundamentally different perspective. They can also, shortly put, be the "this is stupid and you're stupid" character.

The NBC Hannibal show has Freddie Lounds ("I'm a bad, bad man", Will threatens her. He is then surprised when she runs a feature on the FBI hiring a creep to come to crime scenes and pretend he's a serial killer.) The Vampire Diaries had Elijah (he isn't a great example of this, but legacy fans will remember all the jokes about how the reason the writers never put him in episodes was because he'd have solved all the characters' stupid problems within twenty minutes and there would be no plot for the rest of the season. Elijah was perceived to be living in a different type of show than the rest of the teen drama cast), and there are some who think that this was Snape for Harry Potter.

They are wrong.

Rita, my dove

Let's take a look at a few things Rita prints over the course of canon, where we have an insight into what actually happened and know precidely what she printed. I have my copy of Goblet of Fire with me, it's in Norwegian so I'll be translating back to English but I trust that's alright.

The Quidditch world cup incident

What we know happened:

The British Ministry was responsible for the event. It was highly prestigious, with foreign leaders attending and people from all over the world camped out near the stadion. After the first match there's celebrations, which turns into a riot. Tents are set on fire, people are chased through the camp grounds, and there's total chaos where nobody knows where their loved ones are. The riot soon turns into a homage to Voldemort, with rioters in Death Eater uniforms tormenting the Muggles living nearby and someone putting up the Dark Mark.

Arthur Weasley, who works in the Department of Misuse of Muggle Artifacts (which is admittedly part of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement), is sent to make a statement on the Ministry's behalf to the terrified witches and wizards hiding.

What Skeeter reports:

Headlining "TERROR AT THE WORLD CUP" (me translating), with an image of the Dark Mark, Rita Skeeter writes (this is Arthur skimming): "Ministry blunders... culprits not apprehended... lax security... Dark wizards running unchecked... national disgrace..." (original English from the wiki)

A full section (and this is me translating again): "If the terrified witches and wizards who waited for information while they hid in the woods had hoped for any sort of reassurance from the Ministry of Magic, they were sorely disappointed. A department spokesman, who only showed up long after the Dark Mark had appeared, claimed no one had been injured but refused to give further information. It remains to be seen if this statement will quell the rumors that several bodies were seen being recovered from the woods an hour later."

Verdict

All of this is accurate, except the last sentence.

Nobody was killed in the incident. However, Skeeter was acting on the information available to her, and she makes it clear this last part is unconfirmed. Further, I'm going to come out in her defense and say that Skeeter, writing an article critical of the Ministry in a community with a very loose sense of free speech, can't take Arthur Weasley at his vague word and should refer to her own sense of judgement when deciding whether the rumors are credible enough to print or not.

As it is, a riot in a crowded area at night with people who dressed like Death Eaters, where the Dark Mark was fired into the sky, where mass panic erupted, in a world where children can produce deadly magic with their wands, could easily have led to casualties. I don't think it was a far leap for Skeeter that people might have died, and the Ministry didn't want to admit as much.

Notice her phrasing (and yes, I know you're reading my translation) when she talks about the Ministry: "It remains to be seen if this statement will quell the rumors that several bodies were seen being recovered from the woods an hour later." Not, "It remains to be seen whether the rumors that several bodies were seen being recovered from the woods an hour later were true.", or any type of phrasing indicating that the truth will out. Only rumors that may or may not be quelled.

Knowing that the Wizarding World doesn't appear to be a functional nor accountable democracy, that things like statistics likely don't exist (who will be your statistician if there is no basic math education? How will wizards interpret statistics if they don't understand basic maths, what use are error margins and percentages to them? This is important, because without statistics there is also no need to collect numbers - how many students take the core classes, how many are employed after X years, how many citizens die in a given year and of what causes... you see where I'm going with this), and that Arthur gets so defensive when reading legitimate criticism of his Ministry (not even his department or jurisdiction, mind, and Skeeter anonymized him), indicates a fraught understanding of governmental accountability and transparency.

In other words, who can say if anybody died that night. Arthur himself had gone to bed with his family as soon as the chaos was under control, and there was no tally after the riot, no controlled evacuation, nothing. Skeeter wasn't wrong for publishing what she herself clarified was speculation, either way I'm hard pressed to see her as a villain for putting the Ministry under pressure, in fact I have to wonder if this kind of pressure is necessary to get them to admit things they'd otherwise shove under the carpet.

Back to Arthur Weasley. In response to this article he says to his family (me translating again): "Molly, I must go to the office. Killing this is going to take some time."

Now, I know real governments have to cry over scandals that take time to move past as well: however, what are people upset over? What's the scandal?

Oh, yes, that the Ministry wasn't able to prevent a riot at a large sports event, flubbed completely once it had begun, and failed to give the people any kind of useful or timely information. All of that is true. The only part that isn't true, would be dispelled if they'd only put out a statement saying "no one was killed". The only reason why one such statement wouldn't work is if Ministry statements are not considered trustworthy - and this is where we return to the above.

So far, so good on Rita Skeeter, and so bad on Arthur who, going by this section, questions the Ministry less than Bellatrix Lestrange questions Voldemort.

Interlude: Percy and the vampires

While the article about the World Cup is read, Percy jumps in with an anecdote about Skeeter.

"That woman is always out to slander the Ministry," Percy said angrily. "Last week she claimed we waster our time fooling around with cauldron thickness when we should be extinguishing vampires! As though it is not expressedly stated in Guidelines for treatment of non-wizard halfhumans that-"

I'm not going to make any guesses as to what precisely Skeeter's criticism was, because Percy is angry and venting to his family, which doesn't make him likely to present her argument fairly. Who knows what, specifically, she criticized and why and what she asked for in her article. What we do know is that she questioned Ministry priorities and resource allotment, and Percy takes it personally, he gets angry about it. Hostility and defensiveness is the gut reaction.

More damningly, "that woman is always out to slander the Ministry" implies no one else is doing it.

Your star is rising, Rita.

Oh no, post got long

And this is the part where I'd go on to her interview with Harry and subsequent articles, and later on Dumbledore, but I'm realizing that would make this post a very long and decentralized mess.

Will cover it in follow up posts: today is for Rita vs. the Ministry and how the Weasleys think Muggles are so quaint with their democracricy and freedom of speech, teehee that's silly.

[nodirectionhome-ao3]

Spilled Butterbeer

@jilytoberfest 31 Prompts Day 2. 1271 words Prompt: A: “If anyone does X I’m going to love them forever.” B: Does X.

———

“You’re insane, you know that?”

“I most certainly am not.”

“A complete nutter. A mad, raving—”

“I think I get the picture, Sirius.”

The pub is loud—hot and sticky with the feel of too many people in too small a room. James and Sirius sit together at a table in the back corner, sandwiched between a group of excessively raucous third-year boys and a young couple who seem to be under the impression that one momentary break from their sloppy snogging might be enough to unravel the entire fabric of the universe. Or something equally dire. 

James takes a quick swig from his butterbeer, missing his mouth just a bit in his haste and sending some of it spilling down onto his cloak. Blast. “I just think,” he says, brushing at the wet fabric with the heel of his palm and grimacing a bit at how hot the butterbeer still is to the touch, “that if we are to truly fancy ourselves experts on subjects of marauding and well-meaning vigilantism—”

“Ugh, not this again.”

“—then we shouldn’t let something as daft as the law keep us from having a little fun at old Minchum’s expense.” 

Sirius leans back against the wall, stretching his legs out into the slim gap between their table and the snogging couple’s. (They still have not so much as paused for air.) “Prongs,” he begins, “as much as I enjoy spending my detentions with you—”

“Soppy.”

“—I reckon being sent to Azkaban would take some of the fun out of our sixth year.”

“Don’t be so dramatic.” James takes another sip from his butterbeer, more carefully this time. “They don’t send people to Azkaban for using Levicorpus. If they did, half of Slytherin would’ve lost their souls by now.” He pauses to consider that, lowering his tankard down to the table. “Although,” he reasons. “I s’pose if that did happen, we wouldn’t much know the difference, would we?” 

Sirius snorts into his butterbeer, spraying some of it across the table between them. James grins.

“The problem isn’t the spell, and you know it,” replies Sirius. “I doubt the Aurors over there would see the humor in the Minister for Magic being hoisted up to the ceiling by his ankles.” 

“All the more reason to do it then, yeah?”

Sirius shakes his head, grinning. “Like I said. You’re a nutter.”

“Maybe,” shrugs James. “But if anyone does find a way to put that pompous, self-righteous, prejudiced git in his place…I’m going to love them forever. That’s all I’m saying.”

They both turn at that, shifting to observe where the politician in question is still holding court in the center of the pub, gesticulating drunkenly to his table of Ministry glad-handers. Even through the loud hum of conversation that fills the air around him, James can hear the nasal drone of the Minister’s voice as he talks on and on about ‘the problem with the pro-Muggle movement’ and ‘the proper order of a well-structured wizard society.’ 

James scowls. Minchum seems to be under the impression that opposing the Death Eaters’ violence makes him immune to any accusation of intolerance. Far as James is concerned, it doesn’t. Merlin, he hates that man.

A movement behind the man catches James’s eye, then, and he lifts his gaze to find Lily Evans striding confidently forward. She’s holding two teeming pitchers of butterbeer in her hands, and her expression is one of steely determination as she marches purposefully closer to the Minister for Magic. Nearing his table, she lurches—stumbling forward and stretching out her arms like anyone might do when they find themselves on the verge of tripping. In that split second, James is sure he sees her wrists tilt downwards in a deliberate motion right before the full contents of both pitchers come sloshing down over the Minister’s head.

The hum of the pub grows louder, briefly, with the sound of gasps before dropping off steeply to a stunned quiet. In an instant, it seems that all the heads in the room are craned to watch the Minister as he yelps and leaps to his feet. He splutters and gasps, dancing from one foot to the other and wiping frantically at the hot butterbeer that’s still sliding down his face. He is absolutely drenched with the foaming liquid, and—when he begins to dart his eyes around the room—it quickly becomes evident that he is also supremely embarrassed.

Lily, for her part, gives away nothing. She adopts a convincing look of feigned surprise, adjusting her grip on the now-empty tankards so that she can bring a hand up to cover her mouth. (No doubt to hide a smile). 

“I’m so sorry, Minister,” she gushes. “That wasn’t properly orderly of me at all!”

If the Minister detects any of the sarcasm in her tone, he doesn’t show it. He clears his throat when he looks at her, moving to straighten his robes as if grasping feebly at his retreating dignity. “That’s quite alright, miss,” he answers, his voice a bit more high-pitched than usual. “Not to worry, not to worry. I’ll just—” His hand darts up to adjust his necktie, and his face is bright red when he turns to address the stunned Ministry officials around him. “Well, now, I’d best be off, chaps. Lots to do, of course, lots to do…”

He flees the Three Broomsticks at a brisk pace, head bowed as the room fills with snickers. 

“I’ll leave these here, then,” says Lily innocently to the Ministry men. She sets the tankards down on their table and turns away from them, setting off through the crowd. When she draws nearer, she catches sight of James and Sirius and smirks. 

James feels a flurry of something in his chest when their eyes meet. Realizing his mouth is hanging open, he forces it shut.

“Potter, Black,” Lily says, still smirking when she reaches their table. “Bit clumsy, sometimes, aren’t I?” 

James can do nothing but stare at her.

“Do you mind, Potter?” she asks, gesturing to his butterbeer. “I spilled mine, you see.”

James, still speechless, manages to push his tankard toward her. She picks it up and tilts back her head, draining it in one breath. Setting it down, she wipes the foam from the corners of her lips (are her lips always that red?) and meets James’s gaze with an undeniable glint of mischief.

“Marry me, Evans,” James says, without thinking. 

She laughs loudly, swatting at his arm and throwing herself down into the empty chair beside him. “In your dreams, Potter,” she says. 

She settles back in her chair, kicking her feet up onto the empty one next to Sirius—who gives her a small smile of grudging admiration and passes her his tankard. “I like your style, Evans,” he says.

She accepts his butterbeer with a nod and takes a few sips. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

With a barking laugh, Sirius stands up. “I’d better get you another round,” he says. “Wouldn’t want you to be empty-handed if Old Minchum shows his face again.” 

He stops on his way to the bar, pausing just long enough to stoop down and whisper in James’s ear: “Congratulations, Prongs. I’ll expect to be Best Man.”

James, his face growing hot, elbows him sharply in the ribs in response. But the move only elicits another snort of laughter from his best mate as Sirius hurries away to fetch them all more butterbeer.

“So,” Lily says, taking another sip from Sirius’s tankard and fixing James with that mischievous smirk again. “You were proposing?”  

[iamnmbr3]

Originally put this in a message to someone but I'm still salty so I'm posting it here too.

I just keep thinking about how Dumbledore is presented as this great advocate for equality and justice in the Wizarding World but what does he actually do? For example, it's said he "opposed" the killing of the last giants in Britain (implying there was a state sanctioned genocide btw) but like...how did he oppose it? Dumbledore does not care about respecting the Ministry or following the law when it doesn't suit him ad he is also tremendously powerful and essentially has his own private army. (Not to mention that until Voldemort's second reign it seems he was generally respected and influential in the Ministry and held a lot of sway there). So if he really wanted to stop it, he could've done a lot but it sort of seems as though he was more like 'oh no...don't do that...oh well...'

And there are so many other instances like this. He says Sirius was wrong to mistreat Kreacher but did he even once try to intervene? Does he ever make a rule saying that using slurs like "Mudblood" is against the rules? He has full control of the Hogwarts curriculum until 5th year but does he make Muggle Studies mandatory to expose Purebloods to information that could prevent their radicalization into anti-Muggle organizations? Does he try to get legislation passed to prevent the wanton use of spells on Muggles to modify or wipe their memories despite the risks of such magic? No! He does none of these things.

He seems pretty happy to let the status quo be and focuses mainly on Tom Riddle - who he has been bizarrely fixated on in a kind of disturbing way since the first time they met - while ignoring the larger, systemic problems in wizarding society and doing little to aid the groups he claims to represent.

[arliedraws]

The laws for underaged magic in the WW are so damn inconsistent. In OotP, the Order members and Harry have to fly from Privet Drive to Grimmauld Place on broomsticks because if someone performs magic around an underaged wizard, the Ministry can detect it, and THEN two seconds later, someone puts a Disillusionment charm on Harry. So WHAT is the RULE??? How does the Trace work???

It’s occurring to me now that I personally find it interesting if one were to apply an equity lens to the Trace as a way to keep Muggleborns behind in magical schooling. Part of Harry’s problem with underaged magic is that he gets in trouble for violating the Statute of Secrecy by performing magic in front of Muggles, and because there are no other wizards in Little Whinging, the Ministry can attribute any use of magic to the underaged wizard who lives there. Because the Trace is activated when anyone uses a spell around a magical child, I believe R*wling says that in wizarding homes, it’s simply up to the parents to patrol their children’s use of magic.

Considering this, one can see why Muggleborns would fall behind their pureblood peers in academics. We see this in the real world how the summer disruption of learning can set back many students who have been systemically disadvantaged in contrast to affluent peers who attend summer camps and study with tutors during the break. So if you have Muggleborns who aren’t allowed to practice magic because it’s against the law and the Ministry has a built-in detector for such, you’ve got pureblood kids who can use magic all they want at home if their parents don’t care (or perhaps even actively encourage their children to practice).

Of course, this contributes to further disparities within the magical community. You’ve got students who’ve grown up in this world and don’t have to waste time learning the culture, AND they have the privilege of at-home practice. Then you have Muggleborn students who are thrust into a foreign culture with new vocabulary and expectations/customs who, when they return home, cannot legally cement the physical practice of magic they just learned. When it comes to exams in fifth and seventh year, this discrepancy would absolutely lead to an overall imbalance of scores. Pureblood students would, on average, perform better on exams which would grant them higher positions within the Ministry of Magic, and in turn, they would maintain the laws regarding underaged magic that served them so well, thus preserving conditions that make the false notion that “Pureblood wizards better at magic” appear to be true.

In any case, I still don’t know how the Trace really works because the books are inconsistent about it, but it’s an inequitable law. Anyway, I think it’d be interesting to explore more!

[wisteria-lodge]

hi op!! hope you're doing well. genuine question, but do you think lucius pays his taxes? he makes public donations and associates with the ministry to a rather personal extent that i imagine he at least forks over some to whatever department at the MoM handles taxes but he does strike me as the person who'd at least find ways to evade being taxed (writing off business dealings as personal purchases to avoid getting taxed for them, donating to charity to get a write-off for the money, having some under the table deals so what taxes he has to pay for wiltshire are rather minimized) but what do you think?

Now I'm thinking about how taxes work in the wizarding world.

Okay, so one of the interesting things about HP is that pure-blood wizards are sort of stuck in the 1700s. There are a few aesthetic/fashion details from the 1800s, but in terms of tech level and the way the world is set up, we're still pre-industrial revolution. Which makes sense! The wizards never had an industrial revolution, and split away from the muggle world in the late 1600s.

(Phillip Pullman was also doing a psuedo 1700s-1800s thing for his children's fantasy series at around the same time. Cannot prove that JKR has any knowledge of His Dark Materials, but another English author writing a similar kind of book? Stealth-setting a book in the 1700s isn't such an out-there choice.)

That means a lot of the issues people have with the HP world building are really just issues with... life in the 1700s. Why is there no mental health care? 1700s. Why is the Hogwarts curriculum so weird? 1700s. Why is slavery okay? 1700s. Why is there no drinking age, and you can just purchase drugs (love potion) over the counter? 1700s.

In a similarly 1700s way, the Wizarding World seems to be composed of semi-autonomous fiefdoms, which report back to the Ministry of Magic. On paper, the Ministry has has control over Hogwarts, St. Mungos, the various pure-blood estates. Whether or not that's that's totally true... I mean the Ministry tries and fails to take over Hogwarts in Book 5, and in Book 2 they clearly *try* to prosecute the Malfoys for holding dark contraband, but never get very far.

Here's what I would do, if I were writing something political based in the Harry Potter universe. The Wizengamot seems to be the oldest ruling body (its name is a pun on the Wittengamot, which is from the 7th century.) So probably those seats are inherited (House of Lords style) possibly with a magical component involved. New members can be added, but only by existing members voting them in. The Wizengamot serves as the High Court (as we see - more normal cases are processed by the Council of Magical Law, and Arthur is really wrong-footed when he hears Harry is getting a *Wizengamot* trial.)

They also probably have some sort of pass/veto power, and the power to elect/replace a Minister of Magic. (the position was "offered" to Dumbledore multiple times, but he turned it down. So he's definitely not campaigning in a general election.) I doubt they actually *write* laws - that seems to be handled by the more bureaucratic-flavored Ministry members like Arthur and Percy, who do *not* sit on the Wizengamot.

I'd also have it so that taxes were handled in a more 1700s style. There'd be a lot of sales tax, which the Ministry would be able to enforce because I'm pretty sure they they oversee food production. There would also be a fee for the various Ministry-run procedures like booking overseas portkeys (and legal-social functions? the officiant at Dumbledore's funeral and Fleur's wedding is pretty Ministry coded.) "Pay a fine" seems to be a pretty common punishment in this world - which isn't a tax, but definitely a way for the Ministry to make money. I wonder if people like Ludo Bagman *bought* his position. It would be very 1700s of him.

Then there's property tax, and this is where the the old pure-blood families on the Wizangamot come in. I think the Ministry presents a budget to the Wizangamot, and *they* make up the difference, among themselves. At which point yes of course Lucius finds ways to weasel out of paying if he doesn't like the current minister, if he doesn't like the deal he's getting, if he's just feeling pissy that day, whatever. But at the end of the day, they collect their own taxes from the various spheres they control.

Now we're getting into headcanons, but I think the Malfoy money comes from primarily being landlords. At *very least,* Malfoy Manor has a magical satellite village (a la Hogsmeade or Ottery St. Catchpole) that they just own and probably low-key police. (they probably also just own a chunk of Wiltshire.) I also highly, highly doubt that the Malfoys gave up all their ties to the muggle world post Statue of Secrecy. If every new Muggle Prime Minister has a meeting with the Minister of Magic, then... I bet every time Lloyds of London gets a new CEO, Lucius Malfoy shows up to say, "We get 1.5% off the top. My bankers will be in touch." Goblins don't care about the Ministry's laws even slightly, and there's got to be an exchange rate if Hermione's parents can show up to Diagon Alley and buy her books.

All of the old pureblood families are going to have their own *thing,* their own under-the table agreements and sweetheart deals. The Blacks strike me as being big into shipping, probably because they're so based in *London.* But yeah, at least to me, this is the sort of thing that gels with the universe that we see.

(Hogwarts and St. Mungo's would be funded the same way, on a smaller scale. A huge part of St. Mungo's budget just seems to be the Malfoys. And Hogwarts has a board of governors who under normal circumstances raise money and make decisions on how to run the school... but they don't seem especially powerful these days. I'll bet it's because whatever endowment Hogwarts has/whatever funds Dumbledore has at his disposal *are* enough to run it... which is why Dumbledore can do whatever he wants, and becomes an almost independent political entity.)

[astroselene]

no need for a hiding place

in which Sirius has to almost die before he realises he might deserve love, after all. pairing: sirius black x reader words: 1.5k tw: brief mention of blood, hospital setting a/n: because we all know sirius isn't really dead :)

-------------------------------------------------------- The hum from the machines attached to Sirius’s unconscious body was even as you dozed by his bed, your head propped on your arms. Between fits of restless sleep, you could hear nurses rushing down the corridors of St. Mungo’s and bits of conversation here and there outside Sirius’s room. It had been two days since you had faced the Death Eaters at the Department of Mysteries, Sirius coming out barely alive and rushed straight to the hospital. You hadn’t left his side since.

You brain kept replaying the events from the scene of the intense battle, curses flying everywhere, sometimes not knowing whether you had hit a friend or foe. Then suddenly there’d been a rushing sound as a curse had flown past your ear, and you had watched with horror as it hit Sirius straight on his left side. It was like everything had happened in slow motion as he’d fallen to the ground. You were certain you had lost him as you fought your way to him, dread filling your heart as you took a look at him on the stone floor. There had been blood oozing out of a deep wound from his side and he was lying at an odd angle, looking like a rag doll.

All you’d been thinking when he fell to the ground in front of the veil that if he died now, you’d never forgive yourself for not telling him how you felt.

You squeezed his hand on the hospital bed, reminding yourself that he was fine and still here, as relief kept washing over you.

Joining the Order of the Phoenix a year ago, you of course knew who Sirius Black was. Like the rest of the wizarding world, you thought he had committed the murders he had been imprisoned for almost 15 years ago now. You had been recruited to the Order by an old school friend, burning at the chance to do your part to in the resistance against You Know Who. Thus, you were rolled into the ranks, first on the outskirts of the Order, moving towards the inner circles after proving your value for having a lot of useful connections in the muggle world. Your muggle job also made for a good cover for protecting yourself.

You had met Sirius Black at the headquarters, his childhood home, now knowing the truth about him. Against all your better judgement and the logic you prided yourself on, you had at some point come to the realisation that you’d fallen hopelessly in love with him. You had tried telling yourself he was not exactly the knight in shining armour of every girl’s dreams - he was practically prisoner in his old home, still a wanted criminal in the eyes of the law and most likely not in the mental headspace for any kind of romance.

Your heart didn’t seem to care about all of these logical trivialities though. Instead, you found yourself laughing at his witty remarks, looking for ways to get to know him better and spending increasingly more time at the headquarters. One day you noticed that between you two there had developed a feeling of mutual trust and respect, even admiration, at least on your part. Sirius confided in you about his hatred for having to stay in the house that represented everything he despised now. He told you funny tales from his school days, and talked with warmth about the Potters and his old friends, and with coldness about his family. He never talked about his days in Azkaban and you never asked. He seemed to respect the fact that you didn’t pressure him, and never judged him. You didn’t let your previous misconceptions about him get in the way of getting to know the real him – the brave, thoughtful and intelligent man you had fallen hard and fast for.

And you wondered whether he felt the same – sometimes you caught him looking at you when he thought you couldn’t see. At first, he’d been in a hurry to turn his eyes away when you caught him, but lately something had changed. He maintained eye contact, even sought your eyes out with his own when there was an inside joke to be shared in the middle of a general conversation, and you could’ve sworn you kept seeing a playful glint in his deep grey eyes, reserved just for you. But you always told yourself you were imagining things because of your own feelings and naïve wishes.

Your fitful sleep was interrupted by a brush of fingers on your cheek. You slowly opened your eyes to see Sirius watching you through half lidded eyes.

“Hey you,” Sirius said. His voice sounded a little croaky.

“Sirius!” you gasped, feeling a rush of blood to your head for sitting up so quickly.

“Are you alright? How are you feeling?”

You brushed Sirius’s hair away from his face. It had gotten longer again during his months at Grimmauld Place. He kept talking about cutting it but you loved how it framed his high cheekbones and the way he had to keep tucking it behind his ears.

“I’m alright,” Sirius said quietly. He frowned, “What happened? At the ministry, I was about to....“ he focused in the distance, trying to gather pieces of memories from his muddled brain.

“Everyone’s fine, Harry’s safe. The prophecy was destroyed,” you soothed him. “You got the worst of it. You’ve been out cold for two days.”

Sirus’s shoulders sagged with relief. He looked back up at you and you felt his fingers on your cheek again.

“What about you? Are you alright?” His voice was gentle.

“I’m okay. Now that you’re awake anyway,” you smiled at him.

Your fingers were still in his hair and you stopped breathing at the look on his face. He was so close, smiling a tired smile up at you.

“I should get the healer,” you said. “Hold on, I’ll be right back.”

“Wait,” Sirius grabbed your arm, “have you been here the whole time?”

You felt heat rise on your cheeks. You weren’t actually sure he had wanted you there while he was unconscious, but you’d found you couldn’t leave his side either, not until you knew he was going to be okay. You were fidgeting with a loose piece of thread on Sirius’s bedsheet, your mind already going into overdrive, instinctually preparing for rejection.

“Well… yeah. I may have had to tell them I was your girlfriend, they wouldn’t have let me stay otherwise. ‘Family and close relations only’”, you huffed out an awkward laugh, “I’m sorry I said that, I shouldn’t have, I’m obviously not your girlfriend or anything, I just needed to…” you trailed off. “I just needed to know you were okay.”

You felt Sirius’s finger under your chin and he lifted your face to search your eyes with his.

“Would you like to be?” he asked quietly.

You blinked and thought your mouth must’ve been hanging open too, while you searched for your suddenly lost skill for speech.

“Would you like that?” you asked incredulously.

“Yes,” he said simply, like it was a no-brainer.

And it really wasn’t, not to him. He had known for a long time how he felt for you, but not fully admitting it to himself. His heart squeezed at the thought of you sitting by his bed for the past days, waiting for him to wake up, being always so sweet to him, so kind and caring. He knew what little he had to offer in his situation wasn’t what you deserved, but seeing your eyes light up at his answer, your beautiful smile breaking out, made him believe that maybe it was possible for him to have happiness after all.

You sat up closer to Sirius, taking his handsome face in your hands. You leaned in and touched his lips softly with your own, and at that moment you knew all the worry of the past few days and months had been worth it, all your previous heartbreaks and hurts were soothed out right in that moment. You knew Sirius was what you had been waiting for.

Sirius moved his hand at the back of your head and pulled your face against his more insistently. He kissed you with determination, like a man on a mission to show all of his buried feelings for you in that moment. His tongue brushed your lower lip and you gasped, opening your mouth to get more of his taste, more of his kisses, more of him.

Sirius leaned back but only far enough to press his forehead against yours.

“Blimey,” he barked out a laugh, “haven’t done that in ages.”

You laughed with him against his lips. “Gotta make up for lost time then,” you said.

He pecked your lips and hummed, but it turned into a small wince when he shifted on the bed.

“Hey, stay still, I’ll get the healer. I have to let them know you’re awake,” you said, worried now. You didn’t want him tearing up his stitches. The wound had been closed magically but it wouldn’t keep if he kept moving a lot.

“Whatever you say, ma’am,” Sirius winked at you.

You reluctantly moved away from him, but now you knew he wasn’t going anywhere. He was going to spend the rest of his life showing you exactly how he felt, no longer needing to hide from anything or anyone.

[hollowed-theory-hall]

The Ministry of Magic: Part 1/?

(Part 2, Part 3)

Legislative Processes

I don't know if I was the only one who was paying too close attention any time Arthur or Percy Weasley mentioned anything to do with their ministry jobs to try and understand how the magical government works... but I made some notes based on random one-off lines that have some implications.

So, I'll start with a short one about one of the ways laws come into existence in the UK Ministry of Magic.

“C-cars, Molly, dear?” “Yes, Arthur, cars,” said Mrs. Weasley, her eyes flashing. “Imagine a wizard buying a rusty old car and telling his wife all he wanted to do with it was take it apart to see how it worked, while really he was enchanting it to make it fly.” Mr. Weasley blinked. “Well, dear, I think you’ll find that he would be quite within the law to do that, even if — er — he maybe would have done better to, um, tell his wife the truth. . . . There’s a loophole in the law, you’ll find. . . . As long as he wasn’t intending to fly the car, the fact that the car could fly wouldn’t—” “Arthur Weasley, you made sure there was a loophole when you wrote that law!” shouted Mrs. Weasley. “Just so you could carry on tinkering with all that Muggle rubbish in your shed! And for your information, Harry arrived this morning in the car you weren’t intending to fly!”

(CoS, 43)

Like, this is bizarre. Let's recap, Arthur Weasley is the head of the Misuse of Muggle Artefacts Office, described as:

“What does your dad do at the Ministry of Magic, anyway?” “He works in the most boring department,” said Ron. “The Misuse of Muggle Artifacts Office.” “The what?” “It’s all to do with bewitching things that are Muggle-made, you know, in case they end up back in a Muggle shop or house. Like, last year, some old witch died and her tea set was sold to an antiques shop. This Muggle woman bought it, took it home, and tried to serve her friends tea in it. It was a nightmare — Dad was working overtime for weeks.” “What happened?” “The teapot went berserk and squirted boiling tea all over the place and one man ended up in the hospital with the sugar tongs clamped to his nose. Dad was going frantic — it’s only him and an old warlock called Perkins in the office — and they had to do Memory Charms and all sorts of stuff to cover it up —”

(CoS, 36)

It's a small office, only Arthur, the office's head, and one employee, Perkins. Even though it's such a small office, that is held in low regard, Arthur still has the legal authority to bill laws relevant to his office. Molly and he literally say he wrote a loophole into the law on purpose!

This means any department or office head in the ministry, regardless of how small or inconsequential they are, has the legal authority to draft a law and offer it to vote in the Wizengamot. We know the law bills get voted on, so at least random ministry personnel can't just make laws for whatever they want.

We don't really know what Araminta Meliflua Black did for a living, but she was clearly legally allowed to draft laws too:

and Araminta Meliflua . . . cousin of my mother’s . . . tried to force through a Ministry Bill to make Muggle-hunting legal

(OotP, 113)

And we know her law didn't pass, so I assume it was dropped during a Wizengamot vote.

But this process shows how much the Ministry of Magic doesn't function like a democracy.

I'll write about what exactly the Wizengamot is, how I believe it functions, and who the members are (I'm pretty sure they aren't elected democratically though. Edit: I wrote it). Still, for now, the legislative process in the ministry is that every office head writes laws in their area of expertise (or anything else they're passionate about, apparently). Then the law gets voted on by the Wizengamot which is both the Parliament (the legislature) and the supreme court of justice in the ministry (somewhat like the House of Lords in the UK used to function in the past).

In democracies, the legislature is usually elected by popular vote or indirectly elected, this group of elected legislators would be the only ones who could legally write laws. As every office head in the ministry has the authority to act as a legislator, I assume no such election methods are in place for every single office in the ministry. For the larger department heads, perhaps, but not every minor office.

If we take the muggle UK as our legislature template, laws can be billed by any member of the parliament (be it the House of Lords or the House of Commons). Then these bills are voted on multiple times by the parliament. It's more complex than that, but my main point is that in every sensible democratic country, the members of the parliament are the ones drafting laws and voting on them. In the Ministry of Magic, it seems like basically everyone in the Ministry can draft a law, not just Wizengamot members (who vote on them).

In the US there are ways for citizens to recommend laws to the member of Congress that represents them, but that's completely different to Arthur just straight up writing a loophole into the law intentionally! There isn't even anyone who oversees the phrasing of the bill, or reads through it to make sure it makes sense or, idk, legal if Arthur could just write what he wished! Or that Araminta could write a bill for muggle-hunting and offer it up to a vote, like... there doesn't seem to be any screening for the laws that go into a vote. Not even for their phrasing.

This is just a messed up little fact about the legislative processes within the Ministry of Magic I didn't see anyone mention that I think is interesting.

[princesseggisalittlesad]

First greed, and then love (Sugar Daddy & Sugar Baby) . . . The text below is written through a translator. I am very bad at English .

Everything happens in a utopian world in which wizards occupy the highest statuses, when ordinary Muggle people occupy the lowest position.

Since birth, Harry has lived with his parents among Muggles in the most difficult conditions: a flimsy house, weak electricity and water supply, studying at home and constantly changing jobs with his parents. But the Potters were different from other families - Lily and James were wizards, and despite the many benefits and opportunities that wizards should have, they chose to live in poverty for one important reason - Harry was born without the gift of magic. According to the laws of their world, Harry, a non-magical child, could easily have been taken from the parents of wizards and they would never have seen him again. Lily and James gave up everything to be with their son, for which Harry was grateful to them until his death.

But one day, Harry's parents are arrested by Aurors for a reason that is unclear to the guy. He sincerely believes that his parents did not commit anything criminal, but he did not know how he could help them, because his word, an ordinary person, is nothing against the words of the wizards themselves. Harry makes a risky decision and sets out on his own to rescue his own parents from prison, confident that no magic will prevent him from doing so. By nature, Harry was always clumsy and absent-minded when he was very nervous: sometimes he did not notice how he broke or dropped something, and sometimes things were not lying where he left them - all because of his forgetfulness and inattention. But this time Harry pulled himself together, swore that he would do everything to save his parents!

It was very difficult to get into the wizards' area, but luck was on his side that day. However, the guy did not know what to do next. He was hiding, hiding from all eyes, so that none of the wizards would see him. Harry was hungry, cold, and tired. He sneaks into one of the expensive haute cuisine establishments, steals a waiter's uniform, somehow makes himself look decent - all in order to get some food and warm up. Harry doesn't expect to be dragged into the main hall and forced to work. He blamed his absent-mindedness again for not being able to think things through properly. But he also finds positive aspects in his position - he hears a conversation from one of the guests, the elder Aurora, joyfully informing his colleagues about the long-awaited capture of the Potters. Harry does not delve into the full meaning of his words, he hears only the most important things: “arrest” and “Potters". He confidently goes to the right table, wanting to find out as much information as possible, but one of the waiters pushes him to another table. Harry is angry, angry, and all the glasses have broken at the tray passing by them. Fortunately, they are empty. But it attracted a lot of attention.

Harry quickly retreats, realizing that it is better to leave here. But he is called out: - “Waiter!”once, twice. I have to get used to the role again until I have the opportunity to leave and none of the staff realizes that he does not work here.

He serves the table, listens to the order with half an ear and constantly thinks about Aurora that he needs to be followed, not to lose sight of him, and find a place where his parents are being held. The thoughts were loud, restless.

“You don't work here,” - until an unexpected line from an outsider's voice, deep and calm, flashed through my head.

And Harry turned his attention to the one who was sitting at the table. The man-if you could call him that-was frightening in his appearance and his whole nature screamed about his greatness and prosperity. Perhaps if Harry had been a wizard, he would have been able to feel all the magic coming from this man, but being an ordinary Muggle, he was already shaking inside from an unknown alien force.

Looking back on that evening, Harry couldn't answer himself whether he was lucky in life or not from their meeting. But his world has changed dramatically. Harry saw the luxury wizards have lived with since birth, their power and influence. He couldn't believe that his parents had been able to give up all this and live in a miserable little house with a leaky roof for him. The man, introducing himself as Voldemort, promised not to give him away to anyone. Then he promised a lot, a lot, a lot, if Harry would go with him. It was intoxicating. But sweet words did not let him forget about his parents. He agreed, concealing that he was going to get to Aurora through Voldemort and find out exactly where his parents were.

But Voldemort turned out to be too generous in everything. And Harry turned out to be too greedy for everything he had never had: the most delicious food, expensive and exquisite clothes, beautiful jewelry, a clean bed and a hot bath! And all this is just for the simple attention to the wizard, who was highly respected.

But Harry's world wasn't completely destroyed yet.

”May I look at your wand?”

The unexpected question made my heart skip a beat. Harry was sure that Voldemort knew that he was not a wizard, that he felt it right away. Harry was overcome by the fear that he would be sent to prison, that he would never save his parents… and he will lose all this luxury, which he got used to very quickly.

"I don't have a wand,” telling the truth was the best solution than avoiding it, and Harry was a terrible liar.

”A wizard without a wand is like without a hand.”

The conversation seemed strange to Harry. Sudden and merciless feelings of a terrified guy. Voldemort didn't look surprised or thoughtful, just waiting for the truth to finally pour out of the trembling youth.

”There's no point in me using a wand,” Harry's chest tightened, “I'm not a wizard.”

After this confession, everything should have been over. Harry would be able to come up with something else to save his parents if he was imprisoned or simply thrown out into a Muggle neighborhood.

But Voldemort's smile on his bloodless lips promised something completely different from what Harry had already thought of. Because only later did Harry find out that Muggles could not get into the territory of wizards in any way because of protective charms - if Harry were actually a Muggle, he would never have been able to follow either the Auror carriage or walk to the city and get into that expensive institution.

But Harry couldn't believe it. His parents sacrificed everything to be with him-not a wizard. Harry did not say this out loud, not paying attention to the fact that Voldemort remained too calm while everything inside Harry was collapsing from shock and misunderstanding.

Harry forgot himself in new expensive gifts, sweets and beautiful music, not even wanting to think about his parents, so as not to admit the resentment and accusations that had arisen in their direction. Until Voldemort brought him to the wand shop and the wand is a magic wand! - I chose him. The light and power of magic made Harry think again about the life he had been deprived of for unclear reasons. Broken and lost, he, already trusting Voldemort too much, told Voldemort about his parents and asked for help. At that moment, hiding his gaze from the other blood-red ones, Harry did not see the flash of solemn brilliance.

There was a hope that the parents were mistaken and had been deluded for so many years (but couldn't they feel his magic, like Voldemort? Didn't they realize that all the weirdness around Harry was due to random flashes of magic, and not because of his absent-mindedness and clumsiness?).

Harry was brought to the place of their imprisonment. Harry told them they would be released… Just like he said he was a wizard. But there was no surprise in their eyes, only guilt.

Harry snapped, not understanding his parents and why it was necessary to survive for so many years, and not live the way they could. He screamed, cried, and wouldn't let his parents say a word. Beautiful houses, high-quality clothes, delicious food, how children went to school, magic shows on the streets, postal owls and many, many things that they could have had if their parents hadn't decided to run away to Muggles for some reason.

Harry didn't try to listen to them, unable to stop thinking about the missed happy life, about the deception of his parents and how torn he was now to return and apologize to them, and run as far away from them as possible. And Harry chose the latter. Selfishly and greedily wanting to receive and live as he deserves, being a wizard. He knew that his parents had been cleared of charges unknown to him. I found out that Potter is not the last name in their country. I knew that Lord Potter had announced his return. And I also knew that my parents wrote letters.

Guilt, shame and regret prevented Harry from reading even one of them, and did not allow him to even think about meeting. My parents must have had a reason. They could explain everything to him, and then all three of them would start a new happy life.

But the letters remained untouched, and Harry was eagerly opening a new gift from Voldemort.