#cw hp mention

[oakthcrn-a]

So uh apparently there is a group of witches on the clock app that do something called pop culture deity worship and there are videos of a.starion girlies who are literally worshipping a.starion as a god.

Bruh I’m trying to be tolerant of spiritual beliefs but I am side eying this because I am an elder millennial and I lived through the s.napewives era and it’s a slippery slope y’all.

[levil0vesyou]

So I've seen multiple people now who have been here since 2019 or longer and rarely change their bio and thus genuinely forgot.

So, here's your reminder: If you haven't yet, check if your bio(s) still has/have your h*gwarts house!

I love you, you're doing amazing, trans rights are human rights <3

🏳️‍⚧️

[greencatalystcomet]

cant believe jkr created a prison that forces you to relive all of your worst memories, put a fairly major character in that prison for twelve years without a trial, and then just... didnt make it a commentary on the justice system OR the prison system. just like "lol thats a quirky thing that happened just for plot reasons, no bearing on reality tho"

[moonstruckme]

Hi Mae!! I keep rereading the overprotective poly marauders fic I love it sm 🫶 can I please request another one it can tie into casual dominance marauders if you want I don’t mind I just can’t get them off my mind. Thanks babe!!

Hi lovely!! So this went a bit off the rails, I had different intentions for it at first but then somehow it became very serious and the boys not so much overprotective as reasonably upset....all in all, I'm not super happy with it but I didn't want to throw it out, I'd be happy to write another overprotective one for you if you'd like!

cw: sexual assault

poly!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 1.5k words

You walk out of your office feeling odd and off-kilter. Your mind seems addled, unable to complete one thought before jumping to the next, and something prickles just underneath your skin that feels like anger and shame and also like panic. 

Your boyfriends are waiting for you, idling at the curb. You’re supposed to go straight from here to the cinema, and you tell yourself you’ll feel better afterwards. Even if not, you have until Monday before you have to deal with this, if you deal with it at all. You may not. You’re not sure. You can’t think straight. 

“Hey, angel,” James says as you get in, and it’s immediately obvious your upset has already been noticed. Probably as soon as you walked outside, your boyfriends observing you through the car windows. Remus, in the driver’s seat, and Sirius, sitting beside you in the back, are both charily silent. “How was work?” 

“It was fine,” you reply. Your voice sounds off even to your own ears, but no one comments as Remus puts the car in drive. 

“Ready for the weekend?” James imbues his voice with a light sort of commiseration. You try to smile for him. 

No one is more surprised than you when a sob chokes you instead. You hide your face in your hands, tears already leaking out from between your lashes. 

“God, sorry.” 

“Hey, what’s wrong?” Sirius asks, unbuckling his seatbelt and reaching for you.

Remus pulls into a parking spot just by the exit and shuts off the engine, turning around in his seat.

“Baby.” Sirius wraps his arm around your shaking shoulders, squeezing tight. He sounds anxious. “Did something happen?” 

The worst of your crying passes like a summer storm, over as quickly as it started. Your emotions gone haywire. You lean into Sirius, and he clicks the buckle on your seatbelt for you, pulling you the rest of the way. 

“You’re scaring me,” he murmurs, pressing a quick kiss to your hairline. “Tell us why you’re upset, angel, please.” 

“I think,” you mumble, face and eyes burning, “my boss grabbed my butt.” 

You say it quieter than a whisper, but you know they’ve all heard. The silence that follows is so complete you could hear a pin drop. 

“What?” James asks. His throat sounds dry. 

You hear Remus sigh. “Oh, sweetheart.” The vinyl of his seat squeaks as he shifts. “When did this happen?” 

“Just now,” you answer. 

“Right.” Sirius’ arms had gone tense around you, but now they fall away completely. He moves for his door. “I’ll be back.” 

“Don’t,” you plead. You worry he will anyway, but Remus locks the doors from the front seat. 

Sirius cuts a glare his way, truly scary with the way wrath seems to gleam in his gray irises. He unlocks his door manually, and Remus locks it again. 

“We can’t be rash,” he says, his own tone sharper than you think is intended for anyone in the car. “We have to think this through.” 

“What’s there to think about?” Sirius snaps. James reaches behind his seat, taking your hand and rubbing comfortingly. “He’s just inside!” 

“You think I don’t want to go in there too?” Remus gives him a look that’s a short fall from incredulous. “But if we have to call the police, it won’t help if you’ve already had a go at him.” 

Your head spins. You hadn’t even thought of calling the police. You hadn’t really gotten past going to the cinema. 

“What do you mean, you think he grabbed you, sweetheart?” James' voice is pointedly kinder than the others. Remus takes a deep breath, calming himself. 

“I don’t know. I just—I feel like I can’t be sure—” 

“That’s alright.” Remus' voice is slower now. Soothing. “Why don’t you tell us how it happened?” 

“I, um.” You swallow. James strokes the back of your hand with his thumb. “I was looking at something on his computer, because he said he wasn’t getting my emails and I thought they might be going to his spam. He was sitting behind me in his chair, and we were talking and his hand, like, squeezed—” you shudder, your brain trying to shake off the memory “—and then he just kept talking like nothing happened. It was so fast I’m not sure it even did—” 

“Baby.” 

You don’t realize you’re tripping over your words until Sirius’ voice cuts through them. You look at him, and his eyes are already on yours, fierce but solid. 

“Did you feel him touch you?” he asks. 

You rub your lips together. “Yeah,” you murmur. 

Your boyfriend’s expression pinches, but his gaze is steady. “Then he did. Trust yourself. You know what happened.” 

This provokes another wave of tears, less tempestuous than the first but somehow more painful. You wouldn't have expected any one of your boyfriends to blame you, not if you’d thought about it, but you haven’t had time to think yet and the relief that they’re so wholly on your side makes your heart feel cracked open. 

“Dove, I’m so sorry,” Remus says. He’s frowning, a well-worn line etched between his brows. You hate to put it there. “What do you want to do? Do you know if you can contact HR?” 

“I don’t know,” you admit, pliable to Sirius’ ministrations as he tucks you securely under one arm and uses the other to thumb at your salty cheeks. “I feel a bit silly. It was a small thing, I don’t think it’s worth a bunch of fuss.” 

“It’s not a small thing,” says James, uncharacteristically severe. “It’s a big thing—a really fucked up thing, that he did—and it’s worth a lot of fuss. A lot.” He leans around his seatback, pressing a firm kiss to your hand. “It’s just a matter of how much fuss you’re willing to go through with, sweetheart. It’s up to you. We can go through HR, we can go to the police. There’s still the option of just going in there and roughing him up to be sure it doesn’t happen again.” He smiles wryly. It looks like it takes effort. “I’m very game for that option. We know Sirius is ready.” 

Sirius makes an affirming humph sound against the side of your head. You try to smile back at James. 

“I think maybe…HR?” Your voice is tentative. “I have a friend, Marcella, who I think would be nice about it.” You realize as it comes out of your mouth what a low bar that is, but that’s the reality of your situation. 

“Do you know if she’s still here?” Remus asks. 

You feel your brow wrinkle. “I think so…” 

Remus unlocks the doors, and James gets out. You barely manage to squeak out a “Wait” before the door shuts behind him. 

You turn to Remus. “Where’s he going?” 

“To find Marcella,” he says. “It’s better that they know when it’s just happened, dovey, but you don’t have to deal with it right now. That’s why James is going instead.” 

You nod. It makes sense, even if the reality of it all makes tears press at your throat again. 

“My sweet girl.” Sirius holds you tight, mashing a kiss into the side of your head. “I’m so sorry this happened, baby. I’m sorry we weren’t there to protect you.” 

“Don’t be sorry,” you murmur, turning in his arms to hug him properly. He seems pleased with this development, and squeezes you ferociously. “You can’t always be with me. And it’s not your responsibility.” 

“Careful what you say.” Sirius seems to muster up some humor, a teasing edge to his tone. “I’ll get us one of those big shirts so the four of us can fit in it together, and then you’ll never be rid of us.” 

“It’s our job to look after you,” says Remus, firm but kind. “It’s true we can’t be with you all of the time, but I’m glad you felt comfortable telling us this. Thank you, sweetheart.” 

You’re about to dismiss his thanks when James gets back in the car, this time in the back seat instead of the front. 

“Did you see him?” Sirius asks immediately, scooching the both of you over to make room. 

“No, he must’ve left right after her.” James looks unhappy, but his touch is gentle as always as he takes your waist in both hands, easing you off of Sirius’ lap and into the seat between them. Sirius sighs but doesn’t complain, likely knowing he’s had more than his fair share of your comfort. 

“Marcella was nice, though,” James says. “She arranged for you to have the morning off on Monday, and she’ll call you then to hear from you what happened. We can be with you, if you like.” 

“Monday.” You blow out a slow breath, though it doesn’t do much to keep your throat from contracting in panic. “Okay, that sounds good. Thank you.” 

“No worries, angel.” James rubs your thigh, watching you carefully. “You doing okay?” 

“Yeah, sorry.” Your voice squeaks, and you cover your eyes with a hand. Sirius whines and kisses your shoulder. You try to laugh, but it comes out wet. “I think this might just keep happening for a while.” 

“Oh, honey, it’s okay,” Remus coos, reaching out a hand to set on the top of your head. He scratches at your scalp with his fingernails the way he knows you like. “It makes sense to be upset. We’ll get you through this, alright? Let us look after you for a bit.” 

[short666bread]

So unfortunately this fic 🔒 shot Lucius Malfoy takes up painting after the war worms straight into my brain and they won’t stop yelling “George Bush shower painting” 💥📢🪱

[hypothermiatapes]

What are your head canons for traditional drugs (tobacco, alcohol etc.) in the wizarding world? I mean we know about firewhisky and some other alcoholic beverages, but apart from that there’s not much mentioned in the books.

But potions making and all the different magical plants sound “perfect” for soft (and hard) drugs. I think there would be a lot of addicts Knockturn Ally.

I honestly haven’t given it much thought, but I do believe drugs were used in the magical world; however, I think there are some catches.

First, I believe most muggle drugs like tobacco would be looked down upon, or maybe not the drugs themselves but the muggle brands. I’ve mentioned somewhere in this blog before how the magical world is very prejudiced and has set up their world so that those who aren’t pureblood can’t go anywhere. Because of this things that are muggle will be seen as “less than” and “dirty”.

However, the magical world most likely has its own drugs, or muggle drugs with a magical twist. These things would likely be priced higher though and be for the purebloods or highly regarded halfbloods if that makes sense. This means they can only be used in the higher class, need to be made at home or are illegally sent down the chain.

I personally prefer the headcanon that Knockturn is a place for those down on their luck, and going back to my separate post about Hogwarts Education is likely where muggleborns end up after school. There are probably also many other places like Knockturn, I would consider them where the minorities end up and that’s why there’s a lot of crime is because these people have nothing and are just trying to survive.

I think in these groups muggle drugs would be the most likely to be seen. However, drugs, especially hard drugs, are expensive no matter what so these people would have harder times obtaining them. Though they will be more in danger of addiction due to living in poverty, living in a society that doesn’t accept them and their mental health is down.

Students would be the last group who would likely have drugs due to it being a common problem among youth even now. I think at Hogwarts it would be a combination of both muggle and magical drugs, it just depends on what groups the student is in.

I don’t know if this made much sense, but that’s what I headcanon with drugs in the magical world. Purebloods likely run the magical drug market and are the most likely to use them, lower class likely would use muggle drugs but would have a hard time getting them and students would be able to access both.

[be-trans-do-witchcraft]

February 18, 2009

As per request of @night-in-star-light, I reported my... situation to the prefect. She said that she'll tell Mrs. McGonagall(?) about it, and make sure Renee doesn't do anything bad to me again.

Thank GOD. I thought dating one of Esme's lookalikes would be GREAT, but now it was... how do I describe it?

[the-unlucky-foster]

What do you think happened in the Muggle world after Esme was discharged from St. Mungo’s?

Like, if a young woman is suddenly nowhere to be found, then of course people are going to notice!

Here’s my take. (TLDR WARNING)

In my timeline, the Pages’ next door neighbour Cathy witnessed Esme’s abduction. She was watching Esme walk back to the flats, then she saw her drop her keys, and when Esme came to pick them up, Esme was then knocked out and carried off by Gridley, leaving only her handbag behind cause it probably had a gun. (He didn’t let Pronk do it because he didn’t want him to accidentally kill her) Cathy panicked, called 911, then Daniel to tell him that if Esme is still missing by the time he gets back from school, she’ll take care of him.

Esme was reported as a missing person, and MANY people were worried. Her friends were panicking, Griffith was crying merely at the thought of losing the love of his life, and Gorman and Reggie were freaking out.

Then she was rescued and taken to St. Mungo’s, but around the same time she was admitted, a human trafficking ring was raided by the police, and after Esme was discharged, they believed that she was taken there to be tortured. However, police don’t remember one of the victims of that ring matching the appearance of Esme.

This spawned a LOT of theories about what happened to her, and it doesn’t help that Esme won’t talk about it to her Muggle friends or coworkers about it, saying she’ll sound insane.

[haystarlight]

I love how, as much as she messes with every single other time period in the hpverse, JKR doesn't seem to want to even get close to the Marauders. She touches Harry, his kids, young Dumbledore, Tom Riddle's family, the founders, etc. but it looks like she wouldn't touch the Marauders with a ten foot pole.

Allowing the fandom to fill in all the blanks to the point that that side of the fandom has created it's own mythology and headcanons so much that it's completely divorced from canon at this point. Half the stuff that comes out of there not even remotely canon compliant. They're not even hp characters anymore, just ocs with the same name as hp characters like

[troythecatfish]

[fcsources]

hi! i'm looking for a younger female fc, 18 to maybe 25 or so, who's blonde and has kind of gryffindor energy

𝙝𝙚𝙡𝙡𝙤 𝙯𝙚𝙥. 𝙞 '𝙙 𝙡𝙞𝙠𝙚 𝙩𝙤 𝙥𝙡𝙖𝙮 𝙖 𝙜𝙖𝙢𝙚. ooh, okay. so like a fiery, spunky kind of vibe? absolutely, sounds like so much fun!

Apple Martin ( 2004, model, white/Jewish )

Camille Dhont ( 2001, musician with acting resources, white )

Chloe Rose Robertson ( 1994, actress, white )

Clara Galle ( 2002, actress, white )

Emily Alyn Lind ( 2002, actress, white )

Emma Myers ( 2002, actress, white )

Ester Exposito ( 2000, actress, white )

Go Won ( 2000, musician, Korean )

Isabel May ( 2000, actress, white )

Jemma Donovan ( 2000, actress, white )

Lila Moss ( 2002, model, white )

Shin Yuna ( 2003, musician, Korean )

Yu Ji-min ( 2000, musician, Korean )

[sokkastyles]

Hi,

Hope you are doing well. Thank you for the answer on the Reckonings of Roku.

I was thinking that since Zutara is considered as an "enemies to lovers" dynamic by the fans, I had once come across a quote that explained this dynamic. I don't recall the quote sadly, but it made is clear that E2L is not abuse.

Another part that you had reblogged I think was a sort of comparison between Romione from Harry Potter and Kataang, I have a feeling that the reason that these two pairings can feel similar is that the movies are what everyone sees, and the way they wrote Ron in the movies butchered his characterization from the novels and made Hermione too perfect, whereas in the books, they get together only after both go through significant growth.

I would like your thoughts on this.

The reason enemies to lovers is not abuse is because abuse is about power dynamics, not about whether two characters hate each other. Which doesn't mean an antagonistic relationship can't involve an imbalance of power that could lead to abuse, but it isn't a requirement. More to the point, abuse of power can also occur with characters who are not outright enemies. The type of abuse that is likely to happen between enemies is more easily recognized as abuse, like someone capturing and torturing an enemy. But there's a more insidious type of abuse with characters who aren't outright antagonistic to each other, because most abusers do not announce themselves as your enemy. These are the abusers that work to gain your trust as part of the grooming process. This is usually what people are afraid of when they say enemies to lovers is abuse, but is actually more likely to occur during the lovers part, and it doesn't work if you already don't trust the other person and recognize them as your enemy.

I don't remember enough about Romione in either the books or the movies, and don't care enough to look it up, to have an opinion about that. Sorry.

[be-trans-do-witchcraft]

Esme’s Birthday, 2009

I had Lottie talk with me and Daniel at lunch today, and I finally understand.

Daniel isn’t mad at me, he just said that I thought he was mad and so I was afraid of him, so he wanted to give me space.

So when Lottie asked him why he didn’t want me to do anything for Esme, he said this,

“The first time he met Es— I mean my foster mother, I KNEW that he had a huge crush on her. The way he was acting immediately gave it away. He always looked at her with this wide-eyed stare, super embarrassed, and the VERY first thing he said to her was ‘YOU HAVE BEAUTIFUL BOOBS I MEAN EYES!!!’ and Ivy looked like she didn’t know whether to laugh, cry, or vomit. I could tell Esme was uncomfortable, but she was still pretty concerned about him. The visit to the park went well, but I had to keep Elliott away from my foster mother so he wouldn’t make her MORE uncomfortable. It really doesn’t help that when she was 14, she was abused by a guy old enough to be her uncle. He sent her LOADS of inappropriate things and kept her away from her family. It only stopped when that piece of… rubbish was found DEAD one morning. To this day nobody knows who did it. *sigh* The point is, I don’t want her to feel like that guy. He hurt her really badly and she can't forget about him. She just can’t.”

I almost cried when he got to that last part. Nobody deserves to be in an abusive relationship. They deserve to have a person who loves them dearly and unconditionally, nothing like whoever abused Esme.

I then apologised, but Daniel told me not to be sorry cuz I didn’t know any of this, so then I offered Daniel to text Esme and say I’m sorry, and he said yes.

Then, Daniel had to go do something, so he walked away. I ended up pretend-sparring with Lottie in the courtyard, and for some reason, she sounded like Robyn.

[the-unlucky-foster]

Why can I picture Jordan (avie's oc) doing a massive spit-take after Eli tells them his probable career choices when he’s an adult? This leads to this excerpt

Eli: So, when I'm an adult, I might be either a writer, librarian, herbologist, palaeontologist, or a prostitute.

Jordan: *cue spit take* WHAT?!

(Avie if you're reading this, I'm so sorry about Eli. He had his period at that time of the convo)

Edit: Refined(?) version

Eli: So, when I'm an adult, I might be either a writer, librarian, herbologist, palaeontologist, or a prostitute

Jordan, trying not to choke: *gulp* m8, could you repeat that..?

[tommyssupercoolblog]

There's a blind spot people have sometimes when trying to talk about HP that I noticed

whenever there's discussions on reclaiming it in some way people forget that....a lot of the people who want to reclaim it are trans women. A lot of the people who are making queer spinoffs to try and get control of that narrative are trans women. And other groups JKR has harmed as well, such as Jewish people, anyone who isn't white, anyone with aids...

I don't know if reclaiming it is a good idea and honestly I don't personally care because I don't like any of the characters or the worldbuilding even a little bit and don't have any personal nostalgia for it, so I don't really feel emotionally invested in taking it back?? It's some stupid wizard series to me. I don't want it!! And I can't pretend I personally understand the people who still do.

But I think arguments we have on it should account for the fact that trans women (and other groups she's bitchy too) can and do still care about the series and want to hold onto it in some way. I think that should be a part of the discussion and at least part of your argument should address that group directly.

When you argue that no one should make fanart or try to reclaim it somehow, don't phrase it like every trans woman is in agreement, because they aren't. They can't be, they're all individuals with their own opinions and ways of doing things. Don't act like only the cishet, white, not-HIV-positive people care about it.

Explain to the people who are IN those groups how and why they should abandon it, too, don't rest your entire case on a mythical complete-agreement between everyone affected ever that they don't want Harry Potter anymore. Your argument will be a lot stronger if you account for this- it'll not only reach and be applicable to more people but it'll also make you seem like you've thought this out more. If someone personally knows a Jewish non-white HIV positive trans woman who loves Harry Potter, and your argument pretends those people don't exist, then that person is going to write you off, because "well x still likes it". If someone IS the Jewish non-white HIV positive trans woman and they see your argument they're just going to write you off because "well they don't speak for me I think fan content is fine". You have to address the whole room. /gen

[noxtms]

MUGGLE METEOROLOGISTS MIGHT HAVE PREDICTED A LATE NIGHT DROP IN TEMPERATURE ACROSS THE COUNTRY, but nothing could have prepared the tiny population of carsington for the hopeless chill that descended on them in the earliest hours of the morning. most were, in a sense, lucky ; the ones who turned in a few hours before would shiver in their beds and find their dreams take a more sinister turn, but if they did manage to shake themselves awake, it wouldn't take long for sleep to reclaim them. it was the muggles awake past what was considered reasonable who would be most affected by what they couldn't see. it was these who would pull their dressing gowns closer when their breath came out in little clouds / who would take the chance to peek outside their curtains and watch the fog rolling in, see the unexpected frost that formed on the grass in their well tended gardens / who would find themselves preoccupied by thoughts of devastation that had no place in the comfort and the safety of their homes. in the morning, it would be an easily forgotten, freak weather incident that brought with it a village wide depression. for now… 

well, the dementors paid them all very little mind. they were only present to provide a cover to the masked and heavily robed figures that apparated into the town square, one by one - an added security measure, nothing more and nothing else, stationed along the path that these chosen death eaters took through the sleepy village. they did not turn their heads to watch them, as they went, but their presence led them all the way to the abandoned, stately home where their burning rings had told them they were to meet. 

floorboards creak underfoot as they make their way to the highest floor and a dreary attic space that was draped with dusty velvets and lit by dozens of taper candles, complete with the antique table and elegant backed chairs that they have come to know so well over their years of service. the location might have changed from meeting to meeting, over the years, but it is a familiar scene, save for the unexpected reappearance of an unmasked figure who stands loftily behind her throne, white knuckle gripping the back of it. her right hand man, rodolphus, returned to his place seated at her side. 

it's been two years since bellatrix deigned to appear at these meetings in person, but in all of that time, her presence has been felt as a suffocating weight, regardless. rodolphus has been her most trusted set of eyes and ears through it all, an ever willing mouthpiece putting voice to every thought and every instruction she's ever issued : a priest through which the lord's will is spoken. this arrangement has always been enough, until now. 

"it seems that in my absence," long documented, never discussed. her voice is clear as a bell, "some among you have dared to exaggerate your own importance."

nine individuals, their faces hidden from one another by the silver masks that mark them death eaters - not just any, but inner - exchange nervous glances from where they sit around the table. bellatrix's stormy gaze levels with the tenth, the one stood opposite her, face likewise hidden. her lip curls.

"sit," she tells him, a warning shot.

the room holds its breath, though the problem, perhaps, is that he doesn't.

"i am not a dog for you to call to heel, bellatrix," he replies, all silk.

and then, before their lady can say another word, antonin karkaroff commits the most cardinal of sins ; raising his hand to his face and pulling from it the mask that hid his features from view. he stands taller without it. shoulders back. chin held high. he is unafraid. his companions, the seated inner circle handpicked for their years of devoted service and unwavering loyalty, look down.

"if you were, we'd have already taken you out back," rodolphus murmurs dangerously from where he lounges, the pallid hand that his wife puts on his shoulder in that moment stopping him from saying any more. "you forget yourself, antonin," one of the mystery figures whispers like a prayer, a truth that goes ignored.

"my wolves were not for you to command," straight to the meat of it, she goes, her gaze unwavering. "and neither are my soldiers. you do not tell my death eaters where to go, what to do, when to die-"

"fenrir greyback was a rabid beast," he interjects, matter of fact. it isn't hearsay. they all knew it. "a loose cannon. untameable. he is no loss-"

"you had no right! you-" she snaps, but he doesn't stop there.

"i had every right. if i forget myself, then so do you. for two years, you have left rodolphus to oversee a crumbling regime while i, the minister of magic, have done more for introducing our best interests to the community and exerting control than you have since you took over. all you've done is chase meaningless relics and put your trust in a children's fairytale-"

"you insolent cunt-" rodolphus spits. he might've said more - might've risen from his chair, even - if bellatrix had not kept tight hold upon his shoulder while antonin charged ahead. 

"after the dark lord fell, you promised us power and yet, i am the one who's gotten the closest to delivering it. i'm a hero. i have the wizengamot eating out of the palm of my hand, and all i had to do was banish a few dementors with the flick of my wrist and serve them greyback's head on a platter. neither of which were difficult."

bellatrix, to her credit, remains a stoic. rodolphus' rage is an obvious thing. barely contained. he holds the edge of the table for good measure, but a muscle twitches in his jaw, fire reflected in his eyes. even the masked circle, a rapt audience, fidget in their chairs. they shift their weight uneasily and look between them both from beneath their eyelashes, unable to tear their gaze away. she, in sharp contrast, is unreadable. one hand remains visible, where it lays. the other - hidden by the back of her chair - wraps tightly around her wand.

the tense silence that follows his words stretches for so long that it becomes downright uncomfortable. and then, with an admirable simplicity, antonin speaks his truth into the world - long felt, never discussed. "you're done, bellatrix. we have no need of you, anymore."

she lifts her chin - an almost imperceptible movement, an almost betrayal of the raging storm inside. she works her jaw for one, long moment, and her voice is ice when she replies, holding tight to the illusion of her power, here : "with all due respect, you do nothing without my say." 

antonin, unmoved, continues to speak plain : "since when?" 

if it were not for rodolphus and one of the figures sat at antonin's side moving in the same instant that she did, antonin karkaroff's coup would have ended there with her fingernails at his throat. bellatrix, her expression finally splintering into an unfathomable rage, is little more than a blur when she lunges, her wand forgotten. her husband has to be faster and is hard pressed to pull her back, forced to wrap his entire arm around her waist to tear her from her path. the other figure, hidden behind their mask, is ultimately unneeded in a protective capacity but stands in front of antonin anyway… though he is unaffected by her outburst. the others, most of who jumped / pushed their chairs back / even went so far as to stand, also, and move a few steps away, are unsure what to do. 

the most surprising thing, of course, wasn't the explosion of her anger. it wasn't the need for intervention or the way that the feral fight goes out of her body the moment that both of her feet are put back on the ground. it's not that she gives up without her taste of blood, though when antonin's lips quirk upwards in a quietly satisfied smirk, she would be forgiven for going for seconds.

it's just how the ragged silence that falls over the room is broken, as bellatrix begins to laugh.

"you'll see," she says around a chuckle, dark eyes manic, "oh, you'll all see." 

it's how she keeps laughing until it leaves her system, encircled by her husbands arms. 

it's how her sobered declaration of, "and it'll be much too late, when you do," hangs in the air around them.

and it's, how despite everything, when rodolphus leads her towards the door - a stalwart protector recognising when best to fight and when better to live to fight another day - and a masked figure steps protectively in front of antonin again, she manages a smile for him. their protection is unneeded. she leans in as she passes by, teeth bared, voice low, but her words are for him alone.

"don't get too comfortable. minister."