#canon compliant marauders

[moon-meteor-star-sun]

Sirius: Does she make you laugh?

Remus: She doesn’t make me cry.

[labyrinthhofmymind]

a snippet of marylene from my fic! (labyrinth_ofmymind on ao3)

Marlene’s face is lost in Mary’s hair.

“This is nice.” She whispers softly, her fingers curling around Mary’s brown locks. Mary smiles, because it is nice, this, them, what they’re doing right now. It’s been so long since they’ve let themselves be together like this.

“Yeah.” Is all Mary says back, her speech slurred and soft. She finds she’s unable to adequately express how happy she is right now with words. She would much rather just kiss Marlene again.

Because even in the midst of a war, where death and darkness constantly loom at their doorstep, Mary has Marlene, and she’s found that that is more than enough for her.

“You know… we should talk about this. Us.” Marlene says eventually, her head still pressed into Mary’s hair like she’s attempting to hide away from the world. Mary lets her. She not so secretly wishes she could do the same.

“I know. But not right now. Let’s just enjoy this.” Is what Mary replies with. It’s what she always replies with, or something along the lines of that. ‘Let’s not talk about this right now Marls’, or ‘There’s nothing to talk about’ or ‘This doesn’t mean anything anyways’ or ‘I want this but I don’t want what comes next’.

That last one is only said in her head though.

She hates herself for always saying it. For always saying ‘later’ or ‘not right now’. She never lets them talk about it, talk about them. Truthfully, she likes to live in a pretend fantasy where nothing else is real and the only people that do exist are her and Marlene in this bed. It’s much nicer that way.

Marlene doesn’t say anything in response to Mary, and she doesn’t have to. They both know what that means. They both know that Mary isn’t ready. But hey, it’s ok. They’ve got time. In fact, they’ve got all the time in the world. They have time to figure this, and them, out. They have time to build a life and future together in the way they want. And Mary has time to get her shit together and learn to let Marlene in.

She has time. Marlene has time. They have time, together.

Marlene dies three days later.

*nervously posts this like i have snipers to my head*

[im-some-lionheart]

Lily singing Dear Theodosia to baby Harry as a lullaby:

You have my eyes

You have your father's name

You will come off age with our young nation

We'll bleed and fight for you

We'll make it right for you

[alltoounwellll]

wolfstar fanfic is either the longest slow burn ever or they lock eyes for 1 second and decide immediately that they are soulmates

there is no in between

[ellecdc]

pls tell me that ur going to do smth with remus inspired by the werewolf post you reblogged 🙏 p.s I love your work!!!

hahaha I think you're referring to this post, so here's a small little baby blurb for ya <3

Remus Lupin x fem!reader who doesn't want her to know too much about Moony [435 words]

CW: non-canon compliant description of werewolf behaviour, swearing [duh]

“Come on, Moons! Time to go!” James shouted as he burst through the portrait hole, officially announcing the end of your quiet cuddle on the three seater sofa with Remus. 

Remus made a defiant sort of grumble as he sank impossibly further into the cushions, essentially dragging you down with him. 

“Awe don’t do that.” Sirius said salaciously, throwing a wink in your direction. “Believe me, I’d rather be up here snuggling with Y/N too, but we’ve got plans for the night.” He explained, motioning with his head towards the sky no one could see through the castle ceilings. 

“Sod off.” Remus muttered; his arms circling you tighter at the insinuation you’d be snuggled up against any other bloke should he vacate the common room. 

James let out a theatrical groan, but his shit eating grin gave way to the fact that it was all for show. “That’s what we’re trying to do, Moons. So let's go! We’re sodding off.”

“Can you explain to me again why you have to go to the shrieking shack for this?” You asked slowly, rubbing the back of Remus’ hands that were locked around your middle in equal parts placation and encouragement to let go. 

Remus never had a chance to respond before Peter piped up. “S’cause Moony’s not housebroken.”

“I am too housebroken.” Remus shot stubbornly, causing Sirius to snort.

“Sure, Moons. I bet that’s why the only thing left of the cushions from the old sofa in there are all the feathers strewn about.” 

“There was something in the cushions!” He insisted. 

“Right, and we totally found whatever it was.” James agreed sarcastically. 

“It’s not only the furniture that’s not safe - he’s scratched the shit out of the walls and floors too.” Peter continued.

“Minnie would not be happy to find the Gryffindor common room in such a state.” Sirius added solemnly. 

“Okay…” Remus relented slowly. “But that doesn’t mean I’m not housebroken.”

The three Marauders stared at Remus with different levels of bemusement. 

“Rem, Moons is so territorial that I’m pretty sure if Y/N joined us, you’d be lifting your leg to-”

“Okay that’s enough!” Remus spat quickly; lifting the entirety of your weight off his lap and placing you back onto the sofa. “Sorry, dove. I’ll see you in the morning.” He murmured, pressing a chaste kiss to your head before turning and shoving Sirius towards the portrait hole.

“Don’t worry,” James insisted as he walked backwards in the direction of his friends. “We’ve been working on him with positive reinforcement, but it’s slow going; he’s really quite dumb as a wolf-”

“PRONGS!”

[ittgirl23]

I think the most heartbreaking type of fanfictions in the marauders fandom isn’t the canon compliant ones. I think it’s the ones where they change everything and still ends the same way.

Ones where Regulus runs away with Sirius and still ends up with the dark mark. Ones where there is no war, but James and Lily still end up dead. Ones where Remus isn’t a werewolf but Sirius still betrays him beyond comprehension.

It breaks my heart so much that I can’t read it, but I also love it.

[reguluslovesspelunking]

when regulus finally agreed to escape to the potters only to die in the cave before he could even go

[not-rab]

singer au where lily evans is just chappell roan

[bartyism]

honest work. regulus black.

regulus is dead and it is now up to you to defend his honor.

reposted from my old account.

warnings: canon compliant death

pairing: past regulus black x fem!reader

Regulus never told you he was leaving, he never told you his plans. You woke up in a cold, dark, empty room with no one lying beside you. The sheets on his side of the bed were freezing and had been kicked off the bed haphazardly. The night before had been rough, you had ended up arguing over everything you were missing out on while seeking refuge inside the house that was given to Regulus as a graduation gift. His involvement with the Dark Lord had done immense damage to your relationship but it was held together by his promises – promises that things were not as they seemed. 

In return, you had lost your job but, most importantly, your friends who had become family because of your predicament. They were never accepting of your relationship. The younger version of you that got yourself into this mess was naive. You were a sixteen-year-old chasing a forbidden love. Now, as an almost nineteen-year-old, you were in far too deep. Everything that was part of you, or what you owned, was dedicated to and also owned by Regulus. There was no you without him, once everyone else had turned their back on you.

The deepest parts of you still loved Regulus, of course. Your skin begged for his touch and your brain urged to see him and hear his voice. But, he did not align with your beliefs. Any chance of change he had shown in your Hogwarts years had been ripped to shreds the minute you graduated. But, you never left. You had lost everything, and you refused to lose him, too.

Beside you, placed gently on the pillow your lover used every night, was a rolled-up parchment. Your heart sunk at the sight, mind racing.

Unrolling it, you felt bile work its way up your throat as you began to read it.

“Y/n,

I apologize for leaving so abruptly. Sometimes, when the moment is right, you must not let anything stop you. I need you to believe every word I say.

I have found something that may put an end to all of this – this war that I know has put a strain on us, especially your well-being. I never meant for things to become this way.

He has created an object that makes him... stronger than the average mortal. I know where it is located and hopefully, I will destroy it. I know I am being vague, but I swear it is for your protection.

I do not know if or when I will return. I need you to promise me that you will move on, worse comes to worst. The thought of you in pain over my decision pains me more than anything I could face on this journey. My last thoughts will be of only you. I am still as in love with you as I was the first day we met, but I regret infiltrating your life with my poor choices.

With all of my love,

R.A.B.

Please burn after reading.”

Your body shook as you clutched the parchment to your chest. You knew Regulus would not be returning, or else he wouldn’t have left this letter. You would never hold or kiss him again, never have him inside you again. You would never smell his cologne throughout the house or bury your nose in his hair again. 

After the initial comedown from reading the letter, your thoughts were jumbled: had Regulus told the truth? Was he lying when he promised things weren’t as they seemed? The letter seemed to confirm his claims, but what if it was just another lie?

Standing up on shaky legs, you made your way to the desk that Regulus spent many nights hunched over. You began writing a letter to Sirius about Regulus’ death, but you left out all of the parts regarding why it happened. You didn’t think about how Sirius may react. You never expected a letter in return just a few days later, asking you to meet him.

You should’ve expected that James and Remus would also be accompanying him. What you thought would be a deep conversation about Regulus quickly turned into an interrogation. The men in front of you wasted no time with pleasantries, immediately diving into what Sirius had said they would be coming for. “He died during a mission-,” you started. You were cut off by Sirius, who had grown tired of you struggling to find the right words to say.

“Stop telling me that he died! I want to know how,” Sirius demanded. You shook your head and looked down.

“I don’t know what else to tell you, Sirius, when I’m not quite sure myself.” you spit out, still not lifting your head to look at him. “He left me a letter. That is all I know and even that didn’t explain much.”

“A letter? So he left, presumably on a mission, and got himself killed doing it. Bloody idiot, if only he’d grown a backbone-,” Sirius started but was interrupted.

“You are so ignorant, Sirius. You know nothing about him and what he was doing. He wasn’t the boy you left behind in that house, he changed. But, you? You’re still an entitled dickhead. You can’t think for one minute that maybe, just maybe, your brother looked up to you. He wanted to escape, too, but he never had the resources you did. He didn’t have loving friends that he could run to. You don’t get it, Sirius, you don’t know how badly he wanted out of there after you left. I am not going to sit here and listen to you when Regulus died to help your cause,” you said. You started crying again and covered your face with your hands. 

The three men in front of you glanced at each other. For once in his life, Sirius didn’t know what to say. Instead, James spoke up. “He died for our cause? What’d you mean by that?”

“He didn’t tell me everything, even asked that I burn the letter after I read it. But, he mentioned something about Voldemort being stronger than mortals and that he knew how to stop him from being so. I figured that if anyone deserved to know now that he’s gone, it would be you.”

You silently prayed to the Gods that Regulus wasn’t frowning down upon you right now. You had gone directly against his dying wish, but you knew this secret couldn’t die with him. Others needed to know that Regulus Black did not die as a cowardly supporter of Voldemort.

“Could you give us a moment?” Sirius asked, turning towards James and Remus. The two boys nodded and got up from the table, finding something else to do. Sirius couldn’t meet your eye, instead focusing his gaze on his clasped hands. “Could you tell me more about him?” he whispered.

You stared at him, shocked. “He was angry at you, but not because of your beliefs. He was heartbroken that you left him in that house, but as we got older, he was even angrier at himself for being angry at you.” Sirius ducked his head even lower and you stopped yourself from reaching out and putting your hand on his shoulder.

“Regulus and I had talked about starting a family. If we had a son, he wanted to give him the middle name ‘Sirius’. We spent a lot of nights talking about our future, in hopes of getting the chance to even have one.” You choked on your tears before continuing, “One of his promises to me was that when everything settled down, he would try to reconnect with you.”

“But, I never even attempted to give him a chance,” Sirius trailed off. You nodded, stoically. You weren’t going to show pity on him. Consumed by your grief, you couldn’t imagine that Sirius was capable of feeling an ounce of what you felt. He had turned his back on Regulus while you did everything to keep him in one piece. Sirius knew nothing. “What else did he promise you?”

You sighed, slouching in your seat faintly. “He promised that we would get married. Part of that promise was that he’d have reconnected with you by then. You’d be at the wedding. He also promised that we would get rid of Grimmauld Place since that place is full of terrible memories. Now, with everyone being dead other than you, it’s yours.” You had to pause before you continued. Sirius looked as though he had been presented with the worst news of his life.

“You were always his older brother. He loved you, Sirius.” You picked up a tissue and tried to rid your face of the tears. Exhaustion had taken its toll on you and you hung your head. “I’m sorry, I’m not sure how much more I can say right now. I haven’t gotten to grieve yet, you know,” you mumbled. Sirius nodded and twisted the rings on his finger, showing his nerves.

You stood up to leave the table, not sure how to end the conversation, but Sirius reached out and grabbed your wrist. “If you ever get overwhelmed being in that house, you can stay at mine. I’m not there much these days, anyway,” he said. 

“As kind as that is, I don’t think I can part with it just yet.”

Six months later, you sat in front of a grave – one that read “Regulus Arcturus Black.” You had asked for a special inscription on it, “A loved partner and brother.”

It was hard for you to come to his grave, mainly because there was never a body to bury. The first time you came and arranged a small selection of flowers, it felt like you were lying to yourself. Surely, Regulus wasn’t dead? How could you be proclaimed dead when there was no body? You knew you weren’t making sense – Kreature had confirmed Regulus’s death. That was all the proof you needed.

However, as you sit facing his grave today, you finally feel as though his presence is there with you. “I wish things would’ve gone differently, but I’m sure you did, too.” A light laugh slipped from your mouth and you looked at the flowers that had rotted since the last time you were there.

“I miss you every day, Reg. Every morning, I still reach for you. Your office is the same as the day you left it. I can’t bring myself to change anything that was once yours, in fear that I’ll forget the small things about you. I can’t move your opened book on the symbolism of thestrals, or flip the page from the one you left it on. Every once in a while, I find a piece of your clothing that managed to escape the wash – I can’t bring myself to wash them because they still smell like you.” A few tears slipped from your eyes as you spoke. You absentmindedly plucked the wilted flowers from the ground, tossing them somewhere behind you.

“I still love you like I would have if you were here with me. Sirius has started to come around, too. Your death has finally set into him. He regrets how things went,” you mumbled. The wind picked up, sending chills down your spine. Regulus’s hands were always cold, leaving you to almost imagine it was him embracing you.

“This war will end one day, darling. When it does, I will make sure you are remembered for who you really were. I love you,” you said.

[moutainrusing]

afterlife

544 words, @wolfstarmicrofic

Hands intertwined, they died. Remus and his best friend. Tonks and her partner-in-crime.

Bodies intertwined, they were pulled into a bone-crushing hug with James and his soulmate. Lily and the love of her life.

When Remus stepped back, he met the eyes of Sirius.

Sirius bit the inside of his cheek, staring Remus right back. Remus had married his cousin, once-removed, who was much younger than he was, but still of age, and honestly, it should be completely fine, but Sirius felt like he should say something. He didn’t know what. Remus was his friend, wasn’t he? He should make sure that Remus’s wife was above and beyond, someone Remus deserved and more. Remus deserved everything and more. Remus was everything and more.

Tonks was his cousin. She was brilliant, and probably acceptable enough. It was hard to find someone suitable enough for Remus, because he deserved perfection, but Sirius supposed that Tonks cut it.

After all, she was his cousin. Oh, he was supposed to make sure his cousin married someone amazing too. His cousin did deserve the best. Remus was the best. Even better than the best. He approved of Remus as a husband very much. This couple was acceptable.

With his gaze never leaving Remus’s face, Sirius seized him and pulled him into a long, strictly platonic and brotherly embrace.

They were very much friends. After all, friends always wanted to hug each other all the time. Into the crook of Remus’s neck, he grinned, “So, couldn’t survive more than two years without me, huh?”

That was when his cousin interrupted. Really, Sirius loved Dora. Except, he was having a very brotherly moment with Remus, alright? She cut into their hug and teased, “He couldn’t survive without you at all, Sirius.”

Sirius beamed, “Really?”

Remus shook his head fondly. “I am not stroking your ego.”

“But you don’t need to. You missed me.”

“Of course I did, old friend.”

James snorted. Lily burst out laughing. Tonks sighed.

“So… even in the afterlife, they still have no clue,” James muttered.

“It’s okay,” Tonks nodded optimistically. “They have eternity to figure it out now.”

“Not if they firmly believe they’re brothers,” Lily rolled her eyes. “Honestly, James, this is your fault. You literally convinced them that Marauders were only brothers.”

Tonks gasped, turning to pin an accusing finger to James’s chest, “You did what?!”

“Don’t blame me!” James held his hands in surrender. He narrowed his eyes at Tonks, “You literally married Remus! You’re the one who has stunted his emotional growth!”

“Pfft,” Tonks waved a dismissive hand. “We only married ‘cause sometimes best friends do that. And sometimes they fuck.”

“That’s true,” Lily agreed sagely. “Mary and I had a healthy friends-with-benefits relationship.”

James whipped his head to face her. “What?!”

Lily fondly closed his gaping mouth. “Don’t lie, I know that you and Sirius got yourselves drunkenly married and had to file an annulment.”

“That was a secret!” James burst out. He moped, “It was supposed to be Remus and Sirius.”

All three turned to face Remus and Sirius, who were both smiling at each other, hugging at random intervals while they finished each other’s sentences.

All three face-palmed, groaned, and went to annoy Regulus because they could not with this.

[my-castles-crumbling]

calming draught - @wolfstarmicrofic - word count: 295

Loud barks that cut off into screams cause Remus to sit up violently in bed, looking around, heart racing.

But he knew what the sounds were.

Grabbing another calming draught from his own bedside table, he walked to the guestroom where a horribly gaunt man sat, eyes bulging as he panted, long black hair going every which way.

"Here," Remus murmured, resisting the urge to reach out, to touch, to comfort. Briefly a flashback flew across his mind of a younger version of this very same man, the same grey-blue eyes wide from a nightmare. But the version in his head, instead of curling his thin arms around himself protectively, reached out. Asked for protection and love. Melted with words of comfort whispered in his ear.

This version, though, was a shell of the boy he once knew. This version of Sirius Black was haunted and terrified and shaking. He flinched away when Remus passed him the potion, and didn't make eye contact at all.

"M'sorry, Moons," Sirius murmured, still curled tightly, rocking slightly, looking away. "I...I don't know how to-what to-"

"It doesn't matter," Remus interrupted, sitting on the very edge of the bed, so as not to startle him. "Sirius, I'm not going anywhere."

And it was true. He would literally rather die than lose Sirius again. Even this version of Sirius was more than he'd ever dared hope for. He was more than Remus's wildest dreams. He would take him a thousand times over.

So when thin, shaking, tattooed fingers reached out to brush at Remus's own hand, neither man could suppress a sob. "Please. Merlin, please don't," Sirius whispered desperately, tracing lightly over the scars on Remus's hand.

But of course, it was Sirius who left him again, in the end.

[labyrinthhofmymind]

chapter 19 of my mary macdonald/emmary fic is out!!!! i wrote so much yesterday guys i’m very excited about later chapters hehehehe

[im-some-lionheart]

The official Wolfstar during the First War, constantly fighting and making up, trying so hard to make it work, but each time they fail a little bit more and start losing trust in each other™ Playlist:

Full marauders playlist here. This is just the bit of them fighting bc I like angst lol

[tealeavesandtrash]

Wolfstar Micro Fic - @wolfstarmicrofic prompt: grief/mourning - words: 952

“When do you think we stopped being brothers?”

Not-Regulus watches curiously, unmoving and expression neutral. It’s all he does. Just watches quietly from a distance, always in Sirius’ peripheral.

“You’ll always be brothers,” Remus says because he doesn’t see Regulus, thinks Sirius is talking to him. Sirius hasn’t mentioned not-Regulus, doesn’t need to give Remus a reason to think he’s losing his mind. Not that Sirius would blame him. If Remus had said Hope was following him around after she died, Sirius probably would have called him crazy as well.

“He lost any chance of that when he got the Dark Mark,” Sirius says simply.

Regulus cocks an eyebrow, face still unreadable. “You lost any chance when you left,” he says vacantly - devoid of any of the venom Regulus spat at him during their last argument, the last time they saw each other alive. Not-Regulus doesn’t talk much, but when he does it’s some biting remark, cutting deep to the bone. Sirius doesn’t rise to it, can’t let himself lash back, just purses his lips and glares at the spot of thin air.

--

Sirius feels Regulus most during Order meetings, gaze burning into the back of his neck as Dumbledore alludes to battle plans and missions without ever giving away too much. Whatever his master plan is, the details have been shuffled and scattered. Everyone has a handful of the jigsaw pieces but no one knows the full picture, how they all fit together or if they all even belong to the same finished piece. 

It used to piss Sirius off, he felt even more in the dark about the war than before he enlisted, but in the eighteen months he’s come to reluctantly accept it. There’ll be a good reason. No one’s said it out loud yet, but there are quiet rumblings of a leak. These days they all look at each other with a hint of suspicion, the unspoken question about what really goes on behind closed doors.

Remus sits on the far side of the room, eyes down and fingers fidgeting. He’s twitching for a cigarette, it’s one of the few behaviours Sirius can still read. Sirius can’t read him very well these days, but he can feel Remus withdrawing.

Remus is pulling away from everyone and Sirius is being followed by a dead Death Eater.

-- 

Sirius can still feel the remnants of dark magic, prickling across his skin and catching in his throat. He stumbles through the front door because the Floo isn’t secure and not-Regulus is already inside, watching with mild amusement after another almost disastrous mission. They didn’t lose anyone though which is something, unlike Pete and Fenwick’s last mission. They’re in that uncomfortable but increasingly frequent state of limbo - waiting for Fenwick to go from ‘missing in action’ to ‘presumed dead.’

“Don’t fucking look at me like that,” he spits at the apparition and not-Regulus just smirks at him, eyes flickered to the side. And as Sirius follows his gaze, his stomach drops.

Remus is watching him, framed in the living room doorway, face twisted. And Sirius has to just take it in his stride. Everyone is a bundle of frayed nerves, walking around on eggshells like anyone might snap in a moment. Their relationship might be hanging in the balance, but it can survive one more biting remark. It might not survive Sirius admitting he might be in the middle of a nervous breakdown.

--

Remus’ skin is mottled with new scars, some a few weeks fresh, some months old at this point. There was a time when Sirius had memorised each each, knew the stories of most of them. That time feels like a lifetime away now.  

They barely touch, even though it’s been weeks since they last shared a bed. They’re always missing each other these days,  brushing past with overlapping missions that never quite line up right.

“You’re pushing yourself too hard.” Remus’ voice comes quiet in the night air, tentative like he’s scared this might push them apart even more. Sirius isn’t sure if he’s correct in that assumption or not.

Remus is right in his statement though. Of course, he is. Sirius hasn’t stopped in months, picking up mission after mission because he can’t let his mind go idle. Even now, a matter of hours after his last debrief, he’s twitching to get out and do something, fight someone. If he’s under spellfire, concentrating on getting through another dual alive, at least he isn’t paying attention to not-Regulus and the guilt that follows.

“You haven’t stopped since Regulus.”

Sirius’ throat tightens at the mention of him. He doesn’t talk about Regulus out loud. Not Remus, not James, not unless he brings it up first. 

“You didn’t stop after Hope,” he counters.

“That was different.”

And maybe it was, maybe it wasn’t. They’re in the middle of a war, they’ve all lost family and no one’s handling anything well. Everything else is just splitting hairs. So Sirius pivots, “Are you here for the next moon?”

Padfoot is ansty, Sirius can feel it in his bones. Everything is building up and the only way he can think to release it is to let Padfoot loose - to run and fight it out with Moony because no one else can handle it like he does. He wonders if Remus can feel Moony itching for the same.

But Remus doesn’t say anything and that’s enough for for Sirius to know. 

If he asked Remus to stay, would he? I can’t do this anymore. I need you. I can’t cope. But he doesn’t, he’s too scared to know the answer.

In the morning Remus leaves and not-Regulus stays and Sirius has to shoulder the remorse alone.

[brigid-faye]

Wolfstar, POA micro fic (canon-compliant), Remus POV

Remus wants to be able to say that he doesn’t recognize the face on the wanted posters.

The hair’s all wrong. That face is sunken and gaunt. He’s sure old classmates would say that, for better or worse (definitely worse), Black always had a certain fire in his eyes, and there’s no hint of that now, 12 years later.

But Remus knew him well enough to know that wasn’t completely true. When Black was deeply stressed that fire went out. Remus could be looking right at him but knew the other young man (boy, gods, they were so young) was gone, vanished to some corner of himself where he thought no one could reach him.

In school it happened after nasty letters from home. Then, later on, when Regulus died. And at Effie and Flea’s funerals.

So the first time Remus sees that face - that expression - on a poster he doesn’t think:

What a monster.

Instead, overruled by the 17 year old in his chest, he thinks:

Let me help you.

But Black was out of reach of any help Remus had to offer back then, and he's impossibly farther now.

He hates himself for the impulse to try.

[fictionalsimp09]

raven – @rosekillermicrofic – 377 words – CW: Death

A raven lands in front of Barty sitting on a bench in their favourite park, chain smoking to try to calm his racing brain. It’s been days. Evan has never been away this long, and Barty can’t help but fearing the worst. They’ve been lucky, not being seriously hurt during the war so far. What if Evan got cocky? What if he’s not coming back home to him? 

Barty shivered and wrapped his coat tighter around him, the early November breeze sending a chill down his spine. 

“Can you believe it?” someone says as they walk past. “It’s finally over.” 

“But how can a baby defeat He Who Shall Not Be Named?” 

What? The Dark Lord’s gone? They can live their lives now, together, without the risk involved in fighting a war. If Voldemort’s gone, then where the bloody hell is Evan? Has he been arrested? Barty would much rather that than what he has been thinking the past few days. 

He rushes back home, and calls Evan’s name. No one’s here. Sighing, he plops down on the sofa and fights back tears. Where the fuck is his Rosie? 

An owl taps at the window and Barty flicks his wand, opening it. It drops todays copy of the Daily Prophet into his lap and he places some money in the pouch on its leg. He scans the first page – Voldemort is indeed gone, defeated by none other than one-year-old Harry Potter. He flicks through the paper until his gaze snags on something a few pages in. A name. Evan’s name. On a list of confirmed Death Eater deaths. 

This is a hoax. A nightmare. He is not dead. Barty would feel if Evan died, right? He would just know. 

The tears he was holding back finally fall. Now that he thinks about it, now that he’s seen it in black and white, he just knows it’s true. His best friend, his soulmate, his Rosie is gone. Dead. Never coming back. He will never walk through those doors again. Never smile or laugh or roll his eyes at an awful joke Barty made. He will never get to look at, hold, kiss Evan again.  

Evan is dead. And Barty is going to make sure whoever is responsible suffers.