#does anyone remember the patils

[lostdrarryfics]

THE BIG FIND 2023: Day 10

The Big Find is a 10-day long Drarry fic-finding marathon to celebrate the blog’s anniversary. Below is the Day 10 compilation of lost fics, both old and new, that we’ve been unable to find. Our aim is to get as much attention to these lost fics as possible, to help people finally find their missing fics! Anyone can participate by reblogging, reading through each list, providing additional fic details, and informing us the title, author, or link of a fic, and their respective number in the comment section. Happy finding!

10.1 Draco is good and a spy for the light side, I’m not sure if it’s established relationship but he does date harry and one day he found out how lucius basically shame and insult (kinda slutshame) him in the paper, and he kinda has a panic attack and if I’m not mistaken the Weasleys really take care of him. In the end he is pregnant, I’m not sure but I think the title is something like 0.0005 in millions but I can find it.

10.2 The only thing I remember is that Harry is meeting Seamus and Dean with Draco at a diner maybe? Seamus tries to steal food from Harry’s plate and Draco tells him not to do it. Because Harry almost freaked out back in school when Patil tried to do it also. I think it was Lavender who picked some food and Harry’s magic reacted by freezing?/lowered the temp of the Great Hall.

10.3 ao3, chaptered, maybe 8th year but in hogwarts as students. draco stopping himself from completely falling for harry or something, they once went to a club and harry danced (i think it was a lap dance?) in front of draco and their friends. I remember draco taking harry back to his dorm and him leaving a sobering potion for harry to take the next morning because harry was completely drunk that night. I also remember harry regretting what he did the next day. I vaguely remember them both outside a club or pub, draco telling harry to stop what he was asking for because harry has an idea that draco wanted him too and ron saw them both, i don’t know if they kissed or something but harry was drunk. I also remember harry and ginny being close friends and ginny putting on some eyeliner on harry. I also remember ginny dressing up harry and trying things on him or something. and i think at the first scene harry wore these jeans that made his arse looks so good.

10.4 It was before sixth year and before sirius died - maybe end of fourth year or fifth year hols? - and the trio were at grimmauld when narcissa and draco arrive there. apparently narcissa fled from lucius because of voldy and sought refuge at the Black home, not knowing it was the Order’s hq. Eventually the Order lets them stay there, and neither draco nor narcissa go back as a spy.

10.5 looking for a fic that was a one shot. It takes place during sixth year and Draco is having a rough time trying to rebuild the cabinet, but Harry comes up to him because he looks stressed and offers to sleep with him, saying something like “you’d be less of a git if you got laid” (smut ensues but I can’t remember if it was rated M or E). They go to the room of requirement but I know at the end they have a conversation where Harry offers Draco to switch sides.

10.6 completed fic where Harry and Draco work for the ministry (Aurors, I think). Draco is team leader or something like that and pushes the aurors to look for Greyback. Harry thinks he is paranoid to still search for him. But they end up hunting Greyback because Draco’s hunch was right. Draco and Harry always bicker and fight publicly with each other with a lot of inuendo involved. Once they fight in front of the ministry elevators about hunting for Greyback and Harry accuses him of having a relationship with Greyback or something like that. Because of these fights Rita Skeeter that snuck into the ministry as a beetle publishes an article that says the two of them are a couple in secret. So Kingsley (I think) hires another very young reporter (I think Luna’s cousin) to shadow the investigation team to prove otherwise (it doesn’t go as planned). Harry and Draco end up in a lot of compromising situations. Talking about chaining one another or falling and landing on each other when the reporter just enters the room. I think Ron is Harry’s auror partner and there are at least two other members of the team - I think both are OCs. And there was at least one at least in one interrogation with Veritaserum. Unfortunately I don’t know anymore when or where I read the fanfic

10.7 looking for a fic that I read on ao3 but I can only remember a small detail, so no worries if it’s too vague to find it. What I remember is that draco sends molly a gift basket for killing bellatrix and ginny accepts his relationship with Harry because she really liked some of the gifts in the basket.

10.8 Draco is trying to build up a career post war and Harry and he become some sort of reluctant acquaintances. I don’t remember much but there might be some lines which go somewhat like this - “he is my house. I will have to burn everything he touches”. The story is from Draco’s POV

10.9 one of them or both are Aurors and Draco is pretty posh and rich. Somehow Harry has to go after him to Italy or some other beautiful country and he tries to court Draco. I don’t remember if a Auror case is a major point or not.

10.10 looking for a fic that was young Harry and he ran away from the Dursleys early. He does go to Hogwarts but after forwarding his letters to other people like the royal family and hiding from Snape. Gets sorted into Slytherin, good at stealing, even stole McGonagall when she was a cat before she could change back.

10.11 Fred and George send Harry an early birthday present, which is a truth or dare game, which is still in beta testing. The Gryffindors decide to play it. People are in the common room, and slowly they start joining the game. Dean teases Harry that his “type” is tall, blonde, and sarcastic. This happens before Draco joins the game. Eventually the Slytherins also join (they’re the last to join lol) and in this, I guess the game decides to give truth or dare based on your magic or sth, and if you don’t do it, you’re eliminated or sth. And Harry gets some dare to do with Draco obviously ( I think he has to kiss him?) and he does, and the end. Eighth year, hogwarts common room, one shot. Not more than 10k words.

10.12 draco is sentenced as probation to muggle world and works in a bakery then turned into deterioration. Bill helps him and then he returns to hogwarts as professor for potions

10.13 i only remember a specific moment. it’s mpreg and narcissa and harry are with draco while hes in labor and draco asks narcissa if he hurt her coming out, and narcissa said yes and he wasn’t helpful like harry was. and narcissa asks to keep the baby placenta

10.14 i cant remember if it was on ao3 or wattpad. it was titled “home” and the first sentence was something like: “the first time the stranger appeared at the top of the street, thunder rolled and lightning crashed.” the plot: harry disappeared after the final battle, and draco finds him in a muggle village. draco updates harry on the magical world, and romione. harry’s been in love with draco so he sends a letter and draco comes and kisses harry.

[pickinglilahs]

My Boys Ch 5.

AO3 link, Chapter 1 Ch 4; Ch 6 (2.1 K) I cannot tell you how hard it was calling him Malfoy instead of Draco. This feels so much better now.

The eighth-year friend groups sort of... merged after that.

Hermione and Draco were often found consulting one another on homework. Seamus and Dean had taken to showing Greg 'controlled' explosions. Blaise and the Patil twins could often be found discussing their past travels and where they would like to visit in the future. Ernie, Terry, and Theo bonded over the lack of drama in their common room and started placing bets on... everything really.

Haze floated from group to group. They talked philosophy with Neville and Luna; Quidditch with Dean, Seamus, and Greg; Muggle v Wixen travel with Blaise, Padma, and Parvati; Bet on Seamus and Dean's relationship with Ernie, Terry, and Theo.

~~~

It was Thursday before Draco asked if Haze wanted to work on the project again. Haze readily agreed, even though Hermione wouldn't be able to make it this time. So, Haze and Draco set off alone to find a quiet corner in the back of the library after Potions.

They talked softly about the potion they had been making and made fun of Slughorn's awful commentary as they made their way and set down their things. Draco pulled out his notes and Haze waited patiently—albeit a touch nervously—for him to start.

"I wanted to thank you again for the memory." Draco finally looked up at them. "I cannot tell you how valuable it is to my research."

Haze gave a small smile and shrugged. "Glad someone's getting a use for it."

Draco smiled back, understanding the sentiment. "I must admit, seeing the memory the way you remember it, finally having the whole picture, it made quite a few things fall into place for me."

Haze cocked their head, not quite understanding.

Forging on, "Memories are funny things. They are shaped by our understanding of the world, tinted by our emotions, blurred by our expectations. That's why memories are hardly ever used in trials, they are too unreliable. Too susceptible to unconscious editing."

Haze was beginning to understand but was also becoming even more confused. "So, seeing my memory showed my intentions, even when I couldn't voice them."

Draco nodded.

"But if my memory is 'tainted' by my own feelings or whatever, how does that show you the whole picture? My memory is just one side of the coin."

"Yes." Draco smiled at Haze's frown. "There is your side, my side, and the truth. Which, according to the saying, lays somewhere in between." Draco folded his hands atop his notebook and leaned over them, as if to impart a secret. "The incredible thing, though, is that your memory hardly seems 'tainted' at all."

Haze blinked, uncomprehending.

"You've seen other people's memories before, correct?"

Haze nodded slowly, not knowing where this was going.

"And did they seem blurry? Stilted? Too fast or too slow? Like certain parts seemed to be unclear or forgotten?"

Haze thought about it.

Dumbledore's had never been like that; they had always been as clear as watching the telly.

Slughorn's had been muddy, especially the part he had changed. There were parts where the conversation seemed to speed ahead or slow to a stop.

And Snape's... His had cut around, showing flashes and clips; none of it solid. As if they had been fleeting thoughts contaminating the message he was supposed to deliver.

Haze tried to focus. Getting sucked into those memories this early in their session wouldn't do anyone any good. So, with a great effort, Haze pulled himself out of his mind, pushing the memories out on the same breath as, "I've seen a few. Everyone seems to remember things in a different way. Focusing on different parts of their memories."

Draco nodded. "Exactly. Most people only remember what's important—or, more accurately, what they think is important—and not the whole picture. You," he emphasized, "remember everything."

Haze frowned. "What do you mean?"

"My memories are fuzzy and imprecise. When I tried to watch mine, I could barely see anything and half of it was missing. But yours," Draco paused, collecting his thoughts.

He had realized that talking of that specific memory was probably dangerous territory, so he switched gears.

"If I were to look at my own memory of this conversation, I would see us sitting here talking. If I were to look at your memory of this conversation. I would be able to make out the texture of the table; the fly-aways in my hair; the words on the page of my notebook; every word we say complete with the inflections and facial expressions. Your brain captures moments like a camera."

Haze's eyes unfocused as they thought about it. They were able to recall every word in Draco's notebook without looking. They could recall every single word they had shared since leaving potions. But-

"Why can't I recall everything then? I sit down for tests and forget half of what we learned. I go to write essays and have to look up information we've already read or discussed. If my memory is perfect, why do I have gaps?"

Draco's brows furrowed, head cocking. "Not sure. Maybe it requires focus? Intent? If you just skim over the readings, they don't really sink in? But things you put your full focus into, things your brain marks as important, are captured down to the last detail."

Haze considered this. It was a reasonable explanation but didn't bring them any comfort.

"So, my brain marked all of my most traumatic experiences as important, and now I get to relive every last detail. Wonderful."

Draco's brows scrunched in concern. "Surely, you remember good memories too. Like that wonderful opening dance at the Yule Ball."

Haze groaned as his mind flashed back to that night. The awkward steps and uncomfortable feeling of the whole hall watching. "Merlin. That was awful." In his mind's eye, he could see himself dancing with Parvati. See her face and the way his body tensed. See the expression on each person's face as they watched.

Distantly, Haze heard Draco's chuckle. Heard him say something else, ask a question.

Haze's mind, though, had focused on the face of Alastor Moody. The face of Alastor Moody that was being worn by Barty Crouch Jr. The face that was hiding at the back of the crowd, taking a swig from his hip flask.

Suddenly, Haze was back in that office, the night of the last task. They were back in the maze. In the graveyard. Seeing their parents.

The hailstorm of memories assailed him all at once. Every detail of every moment, all at once. Haze sank into themselves, trying to hide, to block it out, to survive.

Phoenix song swelled from underneath the storm of memories, growing gradually louder. Haze latched onto it; gripped it like a lifeline. The more they focused on the music, the easier it was to ignore the memories.

They let the music wrap around them, cocooning him like a hug. The music morphed into something else. Or maybe Haze was registering that it was not pheonix song at all.

The melody was soft, gentle, almost like a lullaby. There were words, too, but they must not have been English, because no matter how hard Haze listened, the words meant nothing to him. Regardless, Haze tried to bury themself in the sound, wanting to feel the vibrations in his bones.

A chuckle interrupted the sound. Their body moved with the short laughs as it had vibrated with the music. Eyes flying open, Haze froze.

Assessing, they suddenly found themselves back in their own body, in Draco's lap, face buried in his chest. The two must have been on the floor as Haze was sitting on Draco's crossed legs, their own wrapped behind his back. And, perhaps most shocking of all, was Draco's arms wrapped around them, chin resting on top of their head. He had one hand tight around Haze's waist and the other carding through their hair.

The song resumed and Haze couldn't help but sink into it. It was a lullaby, French from the sound of it. Draco's beautiful voice flowed over him, warm as his touch. Haze could feel Draco's chest rise and fall as it vibrated with music. They wanted to crawl inside of him, to live in that feeling.

Haze couldn't muster the shock at how lovely Draco's voice was, nor how strange it was to feel so comforted in his arms. All they could do was cement this moment in their memory.

Every note.

Every breath.

Every place their bodies touched.

The way Draco's fingernails gently scratched at his scalp.

The way their own breathing synced with his.

The way their heartbeats kept time.

When the lullaby came to its end, Draco fell silent, but he didn't pull away. Instead, he called a soft, "Haze?"

Not quite able to speak, they squeezed their arms tight a moment to let him know they were listening.

"I... I think I broke your music player."

Haze jerked back to look up at him. He wouldn't meet their eye, looking sheepishly to the side. Haze turned his head—they were in fact on the floor beside his chair—and held out his hand. The Walkman floated down from the table, and they smiled at it.

He had popped the lid open.

Looking up to make sure Draco was watching, Haze carefully shut the top and pressed play. Picking up the headphones, he carefully set them over Draco's ears and watched as his eyes went wide.

Smiling, Haze sat as Draco's hands—both on their back now—began to twitch to the music, as if Haze's spine was a piano, and he was playing along.

When he started humming along, Haze set the player on the floor, careful of the cord, and tucked himself back under Draco's chin. Haze could feel Draco's humming reverberating through their own chest. Paired with Draco's fingers on his back, he felt like he was the piano.

~~~

And that was how Hermione found them when she came to get them for dinner an hour later.

She debated on just leaving them, but Haze hadn't been eating or sleeping as they should. Besides, she acknowledged, it was highly unlikely Draco would have been able to work the player by himself. Nor would he put the headphones on himself if Haze needed them.

Decided, she knelt and placed a gentle hand on Draco's upper arm.

He jumped.

Which made Haze jump.

They both whorled on her and she smiled. "Dinner."

Haze blinked for a second, then nodded. They turned back to Draco, gently taking the headphones before stopping the music.

"I assume it's dinner?" Draco asked, having been unable to hear her before.

She nodded at him. "I almost left the two of you. You looked so..." Cozy. Content. Comfortable. "Peaceful."

Draco gave her a hesitant smile, ears turning pink. Haze felt the blood rush to his own face, but it wasn't nearly as noticeable on their darker complexion.

Disentangling themselves, the two stood and gathered their things. Nobody spoke on the way to dinner, but they were all obviously thinking about the scene in the library.

It had been so easy, natural.

Not that Draco hadn't panicked when he realized he'd lost Haze. He had knocked his chair over his haste to round the table and kneel at their side. When calling for Haze and tapping his face hadn't worked, Draco recalled the music player, knowing exactly what pocket it was in.

He had balked at all the buttons and cursed himself for not asking how it worked before they'd started. Unable to make out the words around the buttons, Draco had pushed the largest one and hoped for the best.

He had almost cried when the device seemed to break in half.

Panicking, not sure what else to do, Draco's mind had produced the lullaby Maman used to sing to him when he had nightmares as a child. Humming the melody—a little frantically—he had tried to recall how it started as he pulled Haze onto the floor with him.

Haze, for their part, had seemed to lunge towards the sound. They wrapped themself around Draco and clung for dear life. When he finally recalled the lyrics, he'd felt himself relax with the familiar melody.

He had wrapped himself around Haze who, in turn, nuzzled into him. It almost felt like they were trying to crawl inside of him. A chuckle had escaped him at the thought and Haze had stiffened in his arms for a moment. Cursing himself silently, Draco had resumed his singing and Haze had relaxed into him once more.

As terrifying as it had been, Draco was... almost glad to help Haze. To be able to share that song with them. After everything the two had done—in general, and to each other—this felt like they really could move on. For once, Draco didn't feel held down by the past.

For once, he felt light.

@bradley-95147-blog @shyshadows430

[olivers-cocoapuffs]

-Harry & Parvati go to the Yule Ball together cause neither of them have anyone else. (They both wear formal desi clothes)

-They believed Harry in fifth year after Moldy’s return

-Padma runs a study group that both Parvati and Harry go to

-Mr Patil was a few years older than the Marauders but still knew them, and he tell’s Harry stories that he can remember

-Padma gets really anxious so Parvati and Harry both know how to get someone through a panic attack

-They’re the first two that Harry comes out to

-They’re super supportive of him

-Harry actually knew Lavender pretty well because of her friendship with Parvati

-They sit in the front row when Harry gets married because they’re family

-Mr Patil passes away before Padma gets married so Harry walks her down the aisle

-They have little ‘spa nights’ were they put on a movie, do face masks and do their nails

-They’re the only people that Harry has never raised his voice at

-The Patil’s were like a second family to Harry

-Padma and Harry set Parvati and Lavender up

-Every Halloween, they invite a bunch of people from their grade to binge horror movies. It’s one of these parties that Drarry happens

-They support Harry at every Quidditch game

-The twins steal Harry’s clothes sometimes (just for something comfy to wear)

-Someone once asked Harry if he was dating Parvati and he was very weirded out (She couldn’t stop laughing)

-Harry draws on their hands

-Padma made him a flower crown once and he still has it

-Harry brings them flowers if he’s just been to visit Hagrid

-When Harry ends up in the Hospital wing, the twins take turns to sit with him until he wakes up

-Both twins were taller than him until fifth year (they made fun of him endlessly)

-Harry has a habit of kissing their cheeks when he leaves. (He does the same with Hermione, Ginny and Luna, just a quick lil peck)

-In seventh year, when the golden trio gets back to Hogwarts, Padma slaps him for just disappearing (then she hugs him cause she was scared and she’s glad to see him)

-Parvati and Lavender’s oldest sons middle name is Hari

-Uncle Haz, Aunty Padma, Aunty Parvati

I have this head canon that Desi Harry doesn’t know anything about his culture cause his parents are dead and obviously Petunia and Vernon aren’t gonna teach him anything but then he gets to Hogwarts and meets the Patil twins.

-The Twins’ mum sends them home made food sometimes and they share it with Harry

-The three of them get Diwali off so they spend it in the Patil household (they start in first year and do it for years after they graduate)

-Harry is taught how to make traditional meals by Mrs Patil

-Padma and Parvati have an older sister who tells them stories

-They act like siblings (make fun of each other, hang out, are super protective)

-They hang out at Hogwarts too. They sit on the grounds gossiping, doing schoolwork.

-They do mehndi on each other to practice

This doesn’t even scratch the surface of the list of head canons I have for them in my notes app 🫠

[simsy-baby]

would ya look at that its the patil kids all grown up

[sk1fanfiction]

Hello! I saw that you reblogged the "I wish you would write a fic where..." post, and I have two ideas for the Running From My Destiny verse that might make neat scenes. The first I can't really make a summary for since it's such a general idea, but I'd really like to see a Quirrellmort POV. For the second one:

Malfada Prewett meets the Weasleys. This... does not go as well as her parents thought it would, even if they didn't have particularly high hopes.

OR

Malfada absolutely does not get along with her cousins; she loves them anyways, though.

I hope the prompt(s) is(are?) fun! It's cool that you're doing this; it seems like it'd be an interesting experience. Have a nice night! :)

Thanks so much for the prompts! They were both very cool ideas! Hope you have a nice morning/afternoon/night as well!

ᑫᑌIᖇᖇEᒪᒪᗰOᖇT/TᑌᖇᑎIᑎG TO ᗩᔕᕼEᔕ

(spark)

Quirinus Quirrell surveyed his classroom, then glanced down at his attendance sheet, running a shaking finger down his list of names.

“P-Parkinson, P-Pansy?”

“Here, Professor.”

“P-Patil, P-P-Parvati?”

He’d always been ashamed of his stutter. There wasn’t a time he remembered not feeling afraid of his own voice. He expected peers, now students, to laugh at him and make him feel smaller and smaller, until he was annhilated.

“Here, sir.”

He pushed his reading glasses up his nose and focused on the next name.

His heartbeat stuttered in his ears. Something seemed to click. To focus. And when he spoke, his voice was as composed and steady as he’d always dreamed.

“Potter, Harry.”

“Present, sir.”

He could not help but look up at the speaker. But it wasn’t as if he was one looking. Rather, someone or something else had nudged their way to the front of his brain, gazing at the small first-year in the second row, scrawny, bespectacled and overall unremarkable, except for the round-rimmed glasses and bright green eyes that seemed to stir some distant memory, as if he had seen them both on another person.

Dead. And yet he felt more alive than ever.

He shuddered, and moved on, taking note of the remaining few Gryffindor and Slytherin students.

(ember)

It had been mere days since Quirinus had returned to the school; mere weeks since Voldemort’s disembodied spirit promised him everything he’d ever dreamed of.

No longer would he be the bullied, cowed Professor of Muggle Studies.

No longer would he be an afterthought.

There is no good and evil, only power, he reminded himself. Whether he vanquished Voldemort or brought him back to life, he would be great. And that was all that mattered.

And so, he had found himself standing in front of the Mirror of Erised, performing spells that he did not understand (but the other, strange new part of him did) and renewing the runes drawn around an ancient bloodstain.

But now, he was sitting in his office. And that green-eyed, unremarkable boy was sitting across from him (though the part of him that was Voldemort whispered, Quirinus, he is the one).

“Do you think I should be worried at all about the shadows?"

Harry Potter’s voice seemed to be coming through several miles of water. For his part, Quirinus felt frozen, and yet, more clever and powerful and strong than he ever had. His limbs had new life, every square centimetre of his being thrummed with magic, and he felt a strange, vast understanding of everything around him; even the boy’s mind.

"You were right to come to me, Harry Potter.” And there came the new, clear voice again, but it faded quickly. “If you are at all interested in learning to... control... to develop... your power, I may just be able to point you in the right d-d-direction."

(flame)

Halfway through the Quidditch match, something strange had come over Quirinus. That same terrible focus and perhaps not-so-mysterious power.

And every nerve in his body sang with the same fierce joy: Kill him, kill him, kill him! They’ll never trace it to you! Dumbledore is not here to see! KILL HIM!

Quirinus had not taken even a single year of Ancient Runes while he was at Hogwarts, and his affinity for the Dark Arts had always been weak. But now, he sat quite calmly in the professors’ box, muttering an Ogham chant and tainting the air with foul magic.

He saw what the others could not; Harry Potter was being consumed by his own shadows. The boy reached for his broom, hanging on with the last of his material form. His eyes were glassy and empty, and everything in Quirinus sung with the triumphant knowledge that his strange enemy was close to death. The Reaper was coming.

The two Weasley boys circled around him, trying to save him (foolish children, none can save him from Lord Death himself!).

It was the girl that snapped him out of his focus; she threw herself into the box like a wildcat let loose and despite the protests of the professors around him.

But it mattered not. Her precious brother was fast losing his grip, and soon the great Boy-Who-Lived would be nothing but a stain on the grass below; a tragic accident—

“INCENDIO!I”

The box crackled with flame, and the thing inside Quirinus howled in anger; yes, she should not know that, but fire would save the boy, sap the shadows.

Even as Snape shouted at her, it was her victory, not his, because Harry Potter had pulled himself back on the broom to safety.

How hard is it to kill an eleven-year-old child already cursed by a parasitic monster? You are just as much of a failure as they say you are!

And yet, thought Quirinus, he did not know if it was the thing, or himself howling in fury at his inability to kill the boy.

(ashes)

He did not like her. He did not like either of the Potter children at all.

Perhaps he liked Harry Potter sometimes, when he delved into his mind and forced the Obscurus to manifest, savoured his terror and the fear-filled memories of his Muggle relatives. When he entertained the idea of using him as a weapon against Dumbledore, now that he had shielded the boy from Legilimency from anyone but him and instilled within him a fear of his Headmaster.

Perhaps he liked Harry Potter when the Dark magic had burned out, and he lay helpless on the floor of Quirrell’s office.

Quirinus found that he liked to toy with the child; make him feel as helpless and utterly annihilated as he once had felt.

After all, he would one day kill Harry Potter. He would make the life bleed out of those green eyes and watch them go still and glassy (like his mother’s, he remembered now), someday soon.

Even as he Obliviated the second child who dared to intercept his search for the Stone, Quirinus knew the end was dawning.

With shaking hands, he lifted the cigarette to his mouth and inhaled death. The weak, prim Quirinus who would have balked at the very idea of polluting his body with such a thing was no longer important to him. After all, what was nicotine and tar and his disgust at the idea of a smoking habit when the spirit of the Dark Lord lived within him?

No. He had been chosen for greater things.

Tonight was the night the end begun.

Quirinus signed the bottom of his letter of resignation, put out the cigarette, and placed in it his brand-new ashtray.

And yet, he cried.

“I have given you my all, My Lord,” he said, and his voice, his own voice was steady. “And now I am nothing.”

𝙼𝚊𝚏𝚊𝚕𝚍𝚊 𝙿𝚛𝚎𝚠𝚎𝚝𝚝/𝚃𝚘 𝙰𝚕𝚕 𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝙲𝚘𝚞𝚜𝚒𝚗𝚜 𝚃𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝙳𝚛𝚒𝚟𝚎 𝙼𝚎 𝚄𝚙 𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝚆𝚊𝚕𝚕

August, 1986

“Just give it a chance, will you?” asked her dad, taking her luggage out the boot. “You won’t know you hate it until you try it.”

Everyone seemed to be giving her the same stupid advice today. When they stopped to get petrol during the drive from London, some weirdo in the petrol station had told her “Cheer up love, it might not happen!” She had responded by sticking her tongue out at them.

Mafalda frowned, crossed her arms, and leaned against the car.

“I don’t see why I can’t go to Roedean.”

“Well, you’re a witch, Mafalda.” He wiped his forehead and frowned. “Bloody hot, isn’t it?”

Witch. She hated the word already. Yeah, some of the girls at school were into Ouija boards and palm-reading and whatnot, but Mafalda didn’t go in for all of that nonsense.

The kind of nonsense that got Uncle Fabian and Uncle Gideon killed.

“And what do they call you and Mum again?”

Her dad sighed. “Squibs.”

“Yes, Dad! It’s not very nice, is it?”

She glared at the house as if it had personally offended her. It was tall, maybe four or five stories and so crooked that there was no way it hadn’t fallen down by now. A couple of brown chickens hobbled around the yard.

And in here lived the people who had sent her father off to Muggle boarding school, as far away from them as they could possibly manage, as soon as they could.

As her dad strode towards the door, Mafalda followed, kicking a rusty cauldron as she went by.

Before Mafalda could make her great escape, her dad knocked on the door and a plump, short, red-headed someone opened it almost immediately.

“Alfred?” she asked in a squeaky, shocked voice. Then, she glanced furtively behind her as if to check that no one was listening. “Alfred, what are you doing here?”

Her dad frowned, fanned himself with the collar of his shirt, and beckoned her closer so that the rude woman could look her up and down.

“Come on, Mals,” he whispered. “In for a penny, in for a pound, eh?”

Yeah, her hair probably looked a mess and the dress Mum had forced her to wear was all creased, but Mafalda didn’t think she would look particularly nice if she’d just spent three and a half hours in a stinky, sweaty car.

“Well,” said her dad, “this is your niece, Molly, and she’s a witch just like you. Got her Hogwarts letter last week and everything; Professor McGonagall said we should come over and see you. Of course, her mum and I know next to nothing about the wizarding world and Mals just barely remembers your brothers—“

Mafalda couldn’t help herself.

“You’re my aunt? Uncle Fabian and Uncle Gideon’s sister? Why’d you never come to see me?”

The woman — Aunt Molly — went red in the face.

“Come in, Mafalda,” she said tiredly. And at her father’s hard look, she added: “Come on then. Both of you. In.”

Once they were inside the cramped, cluttered kitchen, she was introduced to her cousins. Mafalda kind of tuned out for most of it because most of them were younger than her, bloody annoyingly loud, and she wasn’t the World’s Biggest Fan of small children, but she did pay attention to Charlie (thirteen and Gryffindor Seeker) and Bill (fifteen and a Prefect of Gryffindor House). The youngest boy was crying his eyes out because someone turned his teddy bear into a giant spider, but Aunt Molly didn’t seem to care. A ugly-looking sweater was knitting itself on the sofa.

While she obviously knew what a Prefect was, Mafalda had no idea what a Seeker was or why everyone was making such a big deal over Gryffindor or more to the point what Gryffindor even was!

“Who’s that, Mummy?” asked the youngest, a little girl with hair the same violent red as Mafalda’s.

“Your cousin, dear,” said Aunt Molly tiredly. “She’s just come to meet us, her father’s a Squib you see—“

The little girl screwed her face up.

“I don’t wanna Squib cousin!” she yelled.

Despite herself, Mafalda flinched, and her dad did, too.

“Don’t worry, dear. She’s a witch, just like you.”

As if that made it any better.

“I don’t wanna,” the girl repeated, glowering at Mafalda.

“Look,” said Mafalda harshly. “We’ll just leave, get our Squib selves out of your way and on the three-and-a-half-hour drive back to London. Thanks for nothing.”

“You didn’t call, Alfred,” said Aunt Molly.

Her dad pinched the bridge of his nose, looking frustrated.

“There’s no way to contact you, Molly. No phone, and you don’t get our kind of mail. Where am I going to get my hands on a trained owl?”

“She can sleep with Ginny,” said Aunt Molly, nodding towards the little girl.

Mafalda gave Bill, who seemed like the most sensible one of the bunch, a look that clearly said, I am not going to bloody sleep with that demon and that’s final.

“I can sleep with Charlie, Mum, and Mafalda can have my bed.”

Aunt Molly beamed. “What an angel,” she said. And to Mafalda. “Come, dear, let me take your trunk. We’ll all go shopping in Diagon Alley tomorrow, doesn’t that sound nice? Alfred, you wouldn’t mind—”

“—Not letting the world know you have a secret Squib cousin, you have nothing to fear, I’m well practiced, Molly.”

Charlie stood up. “Can I show her around the house, Mum?”

The youngest boy looked up, too.

“And can I have a piggy-back ride from her?”

“You’re too old, Ron!” said the snootiest-looking boy, who was sitting in the middle and had the least amount of dirt in his face.

“I’m not too old!” shrieked Ginny, waving her freckled arms. “I’m only five years old, Mum! I want a piggyback-ride!”

“When your dad gets home from work,” said Aunt Molly.

“You’ll get used to us,” Bill whispered.

I don’t have to like you, thought Mafalda.

“So are you coming?” asked Charlie. “We’ve got to de-gnome the garden. You should come too, Uncle Alfred.”

Dad said he’d come with them, but would rather watch. De-gnoming apparently seemed to involve spinning the tiny, screaming, spiteful little (animals? creatures?) until they shrieked with giddiness, then tossing them as far as you possibly could, which Mafalda was very good at, and Bill and Charlie were all too happy to cheer her on, even convincing her dad to join in, too.

"Don't mind Ginny," said Bill as he flung a particularly angry gnome over the hedge. "She doesn't know anything about anything. And it was wrong of Mum to push you away, but I hope we can be friends still, and that you'll come to Hogwarts with us."

Mafalda, despite herself, thought that was an entirely reasonable proposal.

Maybe she wasn’t going to hate the wizarding world.

It turned out that unfortunately for the sake of her sanity, Charlie loved to talk while he was working.

“Have you heard about Quidditch, Mafalda — oh, good one, Uncle Alfred! That must have gone like twenty yards! Did you know the Antipodean Opaleye has no pupils? What House are you going to be in?”

And yet, she found herself (ew) getting a bit fond of them already.

[hadeskitchen]

This is so random but now it got me thinking. Cast as Friends, Ru Paul Drag Race, and Modern Family quotes? // Cant wait for the premise im addicted to your blog

D'awww thanks, anon!! ❤️🥰 I've actually never seen Friends and it's been a while since I last watched Drag Race or Modern Family, but I tried my best!

Shar Patil

Friends

“I’m getting dressed.”

(“Why?”)

“When I walk outside naked, people throw garbage at me.”

RuPaul's Drag Race

“This is not sisters of the traveling pantyhose.”

Modern Family

“That’s the whole point of a surprise party: you take somebody you really love and you play ‘em like a fool.”

K Ishida

Friends

“You’re over me? When were you... under me?”

RuPaul's Drag Race

“I plan on being the black horse in this competition.”

Modern Family

“It’s gonna take more than that to ruin a morning that started out with a whipped cream smile on my waffle.”

T Sarpong

Friends

“I’m not so good with the advice. Can I interest you in a sarcastic comment?”

RuPaul's Drag Race

“Do you solemnly swear to tell the truth, the whole truth, or something like the truth, so help you Jon Bon Jovi?”

Modern Family

“You’ll never go broke playing to a rich man’s ego. Write that down.”

Cecil Gray

Friends

“You should see me when I actually... Oh actually, no, I look good.”

RuPaul's Drag Race

"Go back to Party City where you belong!"

Modern Family

“I’ve been lonely. Having a mirror in my room will be like having company.”

Hero of Thebes

Friends

("Go tell him he's cute. What's the worst that could happen?")

"He could hear me."

RuPaul's Drag Race

"Not today, Satan. Not today."

Modern Family

“Why am I so intent on helping Andy? I love filmmaking and I love love. I guess you could say I enjoy making love on film, and now I don't have to do it by myself.

Adonis

Friends

“So why don’t you be a grownup and come watch TV in the fort?”

RuPaul's Drag Race

“By the power vested in me…by me…”

Modern Family

"If you wanna fly I'm not gonna hold your feet to the ground, I'm gonna be the one to push you off the cliff."

Other characters under the cut cause this is getting pretty long...

Chef Alex

Friends

“Now, I need you to be careful and efficient. And remember: If I am harsh with you, it’s only because you’re doing it wrong.”

RuPaul's Drag Race

“You are so full of shit, the toilet’s jealous.”

Modern Family

"I don't like the guy. Do I have reasons? Yes. Good reasons? Yes. How many reasons do I need? None, I don't like the guy."

Chef Julio

Friends

��I’m glad we’re having a rehearsal dinner, I rarely practice my meals before I eat.”

RuPaul's Drag Race

“The most important thing is to accept and be comfortable with who you are. Anyone who has a problem with it can fuck off.”

Modern Family

"I'm a cool dad, that's my thang. I'm hip, I surf the web, I text. LOL: laugh out loud, OMG: oh my god, WTF: why the face? You know, I know all the dances to High School Musical."

Jacinta Huaman

Friends

“Oh, my God, a woman flirting with a single man? We must alert the church elders!”

RuPaul's Drag Race

"She was the one backstabbing me behind my back."

Modern Family

“I’m sort of like Costco. I’m big, I’m not fancy, and I dare you to not like me.”

Damon of Chaonia

Friends

“Occupation? Dinosaurs.”

(“Actually I’m a paleon…”)

“Dinosaurs is fine.”

RuPaul's Drag Race

"I got bills to pay. I got dogs to put through college."

Modern Family

"Success is 1% inspiration, 98% perspiration and 2% attention to detail."

Ikal

Friends

“Dehydrated Japanese noodles under fluorescent lights… does it get better than this?”

RuPaul's Drag Race

"Good luck and don't fuck it up."

Modern Family

“I would love to be wrong, but I don't live with the right people for that.”

[xo-gossipwitch]

remember that list ranking the boys? well here are the girls. the snakes may finally fight some lions when they are done here.

Attention Hogwarts: You didn't think I forgot about the wonderful witches of Hogwarts, did you? The witches have been ranked using the following criteria: book smarts, drop-dead beauty, sparkling personality, and of course, just like the wizards, snog-ability.

Hogwarts Most Bewitching Witches

Cho Chang

Astoria Greengrass

Luna Lovegood

Padma Patil

Daphne Greengrass

Lavender Brown

Pansy Parkinson

Pavarti Patil

Ginny Weasley

Hermione Granger

I don't know about you all, but I can't wait to see what happens next.

You know you love me.

~xoxo, Gossip Witch

"At least I ranked above Granger," Daphne grumbled, scanning over the list once more. She shook her head in disgust as she noticed Astoria's name in second place. What did Tori have that she didn't? Absolutely nothing. "But how the hell do I fall below Chang and Patil? Lovegood must be better in the sack than I gave her credit for."

"What are you fussing about over there?" Astoria asked, glancing up from her book to see Daphne staring intently at the piece of parchment in her hands. Astoria rolled her eyes and closed her book on her finger. 'That list doesn't mean a damn thing. Just look at Malfoy and Granger - they couldn't be happier."

"They both came in dead last," Daphne huffed, shoving the piece of parchment into her pocket. She pushed herself up from her bed and grabbed a jacket off the back of her chair. "Of course, they are fucking happy. Loveable losers, after all."

"Where are you going?" Astoria asked, watching as Daphne stormed toward their bedroom door. She shook her head as she glanced at the list lying beside her on the bed. Her heart was giddy at the fact she was ranked second of the most popular witches in the castle.

"Wipe the smirk off your face," Daphne hissed, pulling the door open. "The fact that you were ranked second is a fluke. Hell, the only damn reason you are on that list is that you're on Nott's arm. No one would even know you existed if it weren't for him. You're just known as my little sister."

Astoria's jaw dropped as the harsh tone in Daphne's voice. She knew Daphne was pissed about her ranking, but if she was going to be foul with anyone, it should have been Gossip Witch, not her loving sister.

"I'm going out. Don't send anyone after me," Daphne replied, a smirk pulling at the corners of her lips at the upset expression on Astoria's face. It serves her right. No one needs to get cocky about Gossip Witch's opinion.

~xoxo~

Hermione reached for the next book off the top of her pile and began skimming the pages. She needed a distraction from the latest blast. The ranking of witches was the last thing she wanted to read, especially when it was solely based on the opinion of some anonymous stranger who was afraid to show their face to the rest of Hogwarts.

As she made her way to the library, Hermione had heard her classmates whispering about the list, so she knew her ranking wasn't that great. But she wouldn't let her placement on the list get to her. It had taken far more convincing than she wanted to convince Draco that the list didn't mean anything when he had come in the last place, but that list meant more to her than she was willing to let on.

It was hard enough being a muggle-born witch, let alone having her heart belong to a pureblood wizard. She had to convince herself almost daily that she deserved to be with Draco, and he wasn't just stringing her along until another pureblood came alone. He loved her, no matter where she ranked on some silly list or what her blood status was. Or at least, that's what she told herself to help her sleep at night.

Sleep had been something that Hermione missed greatly. She had spent the better part of three weeks at Draco's side as he recovered from his accident on the pitch, and when she wasn't at Draco's side, she was keeping an eye on Harry. How both of them could have been so stupid to get hurt during a match was beyond her, but Hermione was grateful that she didn't have to spend any more nights in the Infirmary. Madam Pomfrey was starting to ask too many questions about which wizard she was there to see.

"Apparently, we both managed to piss off Gossip Witch somehow," Draco laughed, pressing a kiss to Hermione's cheek before sliding into the chair opposite of her.

"What do you mean?" Hermione asked, her eyes wide as she glanced over at the piece of parchment sitting on the edge of the table.

"You haven't read the blast yet?" he asked, furrowing his brow. "Why not?"

"I've been busy," she sighed, lifting her book up to show him before returning her attention to it. She refused to acknowledge the piece of parchment as she watched Draco pick it up. "What does it say?"

"It says that my beautiful girlfriend and I are two peas in a pod," Draco said, flashing a smile at her as he slipped the piece of parchment into his pocket. "Besides, I thought you didn't care about Gossip Witch's lists?"

"I don't," Hermione shrugged, closing her book once more. "I just didn't want to be last."

Draco sighed, pushing his chair away from the table and making his way over to kneel beside her. He cupped Hermione's cheek, turning her head to look at him. "You will always be number one on my list, Hermione Jean Granger," he said, rubbing his thumb against her cheek. "Do you understand me?"

Hermione nodded her head and leaned down to press a kiss to Draco's lips. "Thank you."

"I love you, Hermione," Draco replied, keeping his eyes closed.

"You what?" Hermione exclaimed, her eyes wide as she pulled away from him.

~xoxo~

"You know," Pansy mused, tossing the wadded-up piece of parchment into the fire of the Slytherin common room. "I almost wish she would have left me off the list."

Theo furrowed his brow and looked up from his notebook. "Why is that?"

"Because it would mean for the first time in weeks, I wasn't on her radar, almost like she forgot about me," Pansy shrugged, leaning back against the couch and tucking her feet under her arse.

"Gossip Witch doesn't forget anyone," Theo said, shaking his head as he returned his focus to his notes.

Pansy opened her mouth to reply but closed it almost immediately when she noticed Daphne storming through the common room. By the look on her face, Pansy knew better than to say anything to Daphne and to just stay the hell out of her way.

"Daphne," Theo called out, jumping out of his chair and leaving his notebook behind as he followed her out of the common room. "What's going on?"

Pansy shook her head and crossed her arms over her chest. "No wonder everyone thinks they are fucking," she laughed, closing her eyes.

It appears my little list is making quite the stir. Just remember, anything you do has a way of finding its way to me. So let's have a little fun. Who's up for a challenge?

The tip that creates the biggest fire will earn the right to meet me face to face.

Let's see what you can come up with.

I'm always watching.

~xoxo, Gossip Witch ~

Want to be a part of the Gossip Witch fun?

This story is meant to be slightly interactive. Submit anonymous blasts about the students at Hogwarts and you might find your prompt used as inspiration in a future chapter! Submit your blasts to the @xo-gossipwitch​ blog on tumblr.

Thanks for continuing to inspire this story!

[m00nycore]

𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒐𝒏𝒍𝒚 𝒐𝒏𝒆 𝒍𝒆𝒇𝒕 . 𝒐𝒏𝒆 . 𝒇𝒂𝒎𝒊𝒍𝒊𝒂𝒓𝒊𝒕𝒚 .

ℎ𝑜𝑤 𝑑𝑜 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑟𝑒𝑚𝑜𝑣𝑒 𝑙𝑜𝑣𝑒 𝑓𝑟𝑜𝑚 ℎ𝑎𝑡𝑒?

[𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑑 𝑖𝑛𝑡𝑟𝑜 𝑓𝑖𝑟𝑠𝑡]

𝑠𝑒𝑟𝑖𝑒𝑠 𝑚𝑎𝑠𝑡𝑒𝑟𝑙𝑖𝑠𝑡

𝑚𝑎𝑟𝑎𝑢𝑑𝑒𝑟 𝑜𝑐

𝑡/𝑤 : 𝑑𝑒𝑝𝑟𝑒𝑠𝑠𝑖𝑜𝑛, 𝑚𝑒𝑛𝑡𝑖𝑜𝑛𝑠 𝑜𝑓 𝑑𝑒𝑎𝑡ℎ, 𝑚𝑒𝑛𝑡𝑎𝑙 𝑠𝑐𝑎𝑟𝑠, 𝑟𝑒𝑝𝑟𝑒𝑠𝑠𝑒𝑑 𝑡𝑟𝑎𝑢𝑚𝑎

𝑡𝑎𝑔𝑙𝑖𝑠𝑡 ;; @dreaming-about-fanfictions @thesweethufflepuff

“he looks so like james! i mean, remus, can you believe it?! his eyes are exactly the same, just like lily’s! you talked to him on the train, you saved him—what is he like?”

and remus smiled at her, shaking his head. he hadn’t seen lucy this happy in years—and it was as if they were young again, as if the horror had never happened.

she had fiercely loved harry since he was born. all she had wanted since lily and james passed was to be able to take him in. harry gave her hope.

“exactly as you would expect him to be, and that was only at the first impression,” he was leaned against the desk in his new office, and lucy had insisted on helping him unpack.

remus had almost forgotten she had dimples.

“i will never forgive albus for not letting me take him in, moony—“ she cut herself off, quickly, very quickly, almost as if she were scared.

and lucy potter was scared.

she never used their old names. not until dumbledore dubbed her professor vulpes—and that wasn’t her, it wasn’t. she was playing a part.

but remus lupin smiled and it just about broke her heart.

“vulpes,” he said it warmly, as if greeting an old friend. in some ways, he reckoned, he was.

“moony,” she repeated. lucy potter was reminded about what it felt like to be young.

to new beginnings, he thought to himself, as he sipped his hot chocolate.

it was the first day of term, the first time that the third year students filed in the room—and lucy potter was almost scared to see him. harry potter: the only other potter in the school—the only other potter left.

the first few lessons went smoothly, and remus was, amazing, she thought. absolutely amazing.

harry walked in, looking skeptical, accompanied by a ginger-haired boy—a weasley, she knew it.

the potters loved their gingers, didn’t they?

harry’s eyes scanned the room and stopped at his aunt, who smiled.

she wanted nothing more than to run up, to hug him tightly, to cry. she wanted to apologize for not being able to take him in, she needed to know if he could ever forgive her.

harry deserved to know everything about his parents. harry deserved to know remus, to know her, as well.

sometimes lucy liked to think that she deserved to know him, too.

the wardrobe that she and remus had pulled out began to shake, and she saw a few of the students step back, eyes wide, some faces paling.

rising from her place, she walked forward, giving a little wave as she stood beside remus.

“welcome,” remus began, nodding at the crowd. “i am professor lupin—it is very nice to meet you all.”

“i’m professor vulpes,” she added. the name still sounded foreign on her tongue. “lovely to meet you!”

the cabinet shook once more.

“ah, i suppose that’s our cue to begin the lesson, yes?” remus asked, rhetorically. “intriguing, isn’t it?” he paused. “would anyone like to venture to guess as to what is inside?”

“that’s a boggart, that is.”

“very good, mr. thomas,” remus praised. “now, does anybody know what a boggart looks like?”

“nobody knows,” a girl’s voice spoke, and lucy realized it was hermione granger, the student using a time turner to take as many classes as she could. admirable.

“when’d she get here?!” ron weasley demanded. harry seemed to have good friends—apparently, the three of them were an infamous trio.

“boggarts are shape shifters,” she continued, ignoring ron. “they take shape of whatever a particular person fears most. that’s what makes them so—“

“—so terrifying,” remus finished, smiling. “yes, yes, yes.”

the students were soon practicing the riddikulus charm, wandless, and still flinching when the wardrobe shook.

neville longbottom was called forward by remus—another reminder of the past that made lucy want to cry.

it was marleen who had managed to find the mead—and dorcas’ idea to mix it with juice.

the girls were all laughing, gossiping, talking about their love lives. lucy was laying across lily’s lap, looking up at alice.

“frank?” alice questioned, again, with lily nodding at her. “i’ll have babies with him, mark my words.”

remus encouraging him made her smile. she was unable to keep that adoration out of her face—remus was infallibly kind.

alice and frank would have been so proud.

but her blood boiled, it absolutely boiled, when neville admitted his biggest fear was snape.

“frightens all,” remus remarked, among the laughter of neville’s peers.

“truly,” she added, winking at neville. she never approved of her brother and... his best friend... bullying severus—but he was cruel.

thus, lucy laughed the loudest when she saw him in mrs. longbottom’s clothing, and beamed at the smile that neville wore. he looked like alice.

the children formed a line as remus put a record on the phonograph. remus loved jazz—and she had grown fonder of it as well. she couldn’t listen to a lot of the music she used to.

“now, i want everyone to picture the thing they fear the very most, and turn it into something funny. ron!”

snape instantaneously transformed into a giant spider, and ron looked absolutely petrified, hesitating a few seconds longer than he should have.

“you’ve got it, ron!” lucy exclaimed, nodding at him. “think of something funny, come on!”

“riddikulus!” the spider suddenly had skates on each of its eight legs, making it slide around the floor. ron high-fived harry as he made his way to the back of the line.

pavarti patil feared snakes, seamus finnegan feared banshees, and dean thomas’s boggart took the form of a disembodied, living hand.

she tensed when harry stepped up—and remus caught her eye.

as the boggart shifted, fear began to fill harry’s eyes, as well—and it increased when the boggart took the form of a dementor.

without thinking, lucy bolted from her seat to stand in front of him—and her boggart took form.

a black dog.

“riddikulus!” she shouted, forcing her voice to sound calm and willing her body not to shake.

padfo—the dog turned into a plush toy, and remus came to her shoulder to send the boggart into the wardrobe and lock it with the flick of his wrist.

“alright, well, sorry about that! that’s enough for today, why don’t you all collect your books from the back of the class? that’s the end of the lesson, thank you!”

the students groaned, and remus began lecturing on how you shouldn’t have too much of a good thing.

lucy turned, facing harry, and patted his shoulder. he looked a bit put out, and she was suddenly worried her protectiveness had embarrassed him.

“it’s alright, harry,” she assured him, a maternal smile on her face. her first time speaking to her nephew in more than a decade, and it was impossible not to feel shaken. “at least your boggart wasn’t a dog.”

remus wasn’t like the others.

james would have been the one to ask if she wanted to talk about it.

peter would have beat around the bush trying to decide if he should ask her.

remus just offered for her to not sit in for the next few lessons. she refused. he smiled, and hugged her.

and he... if he were there, he would have just demanded to know. and she would have told him. she always told him.

lucy refused to even think his name—and when she did, it felt like hell. then there were the memories—the memories, oh god, they burned.

a wolf, a stag, a rat, a fox, and... a dog.

five people trying to fit under the same cloak. the black lake during sunset. running from the source of the noise. sleepovers in the wrong dorm, and late night trips to the kitchens.

the mandrake leaves james stole that they had to keep in their mouths for an entire month, and her crying from frustration if she failed. the silvery glow of the full moon while they stared out onto the grounds until morning, waiting for when they could run to the hospital wing.

the precious time spent with lily. study sessions turned to giggles and long conversations. the two of them were thick as thieves, and lucy never pushed her to james. in fact, she smacked her in the back of the head when she admitted her feelings for him. lily evans loved kate bush and the grease soundtrack. she showed her the muggle way of life—which lucy adored.

she found sisters within alice, marlene, and dorcas. alice was bold behind her sweet face and gave the best advice. marlene had everyone wrapped around her finger in the best possible way. dorcas had a quiet charm, similar to remus’, and she was unspeakably in love with marlene... who in turn was unspeakably in love with dorcas.

her brother flirting with lily. lucy would race him through the halls, from filch, and whoever was caught would take the fall. their strange twin code of conduct, their togetherness and alliance to each other—only broken by trying to push each other off of brooms at quidditch practice. he was protective, but never smothered her. she remembered them crying from happiness when they finally were able to transform into their animagi forms. they had a very similar laugh. james was her ride-or-die.

convincing peter to let her pierce his ear. scrawled notes being passed through class—he was a great confidant, and she would hold his secrets just as well. she had punched snape in the face, she had lost her control, just because he had brought peter’s name up. he was great at charms, great at giving advice.

laying on remus’ shoulder after the full moon, reading the same book with him, even if he had to pause while she finished the page. sharing snacks, genuine, true laughter and happiness, and giving him innocent, feather-light kisses on his facial scars to make him smile. rambling conversations, messy notes hidden between pages of books and under pillows. his ability to separate her from the trouble they found.

and...

muggle rock music. cigarettes. making his family’s lives hell. barked laughter and stupid dares. he always insisted she was his favorite potter—unless she worked with the other boys against him. the promise of forming a band. when he grabbed her wrists and shushed her—she’d ruin their cover, they were supposed to be hiding from filch. the cold hands in hers while they ran from the scene of the crime.

crime.

and she was back in reality, sitting in remus’ office with him while he planned lessons.

“do you remember the mandrake leaves?” she had asked, in a very small voice, as if he wouldn’t remember, though she knew it was impossible for him to forget.

remus ran a hand over his face.

“i remember well, lucy,” he sighed. “you were too hard on yourself.”

swallowing, and willing her voice not to shake, she stared at him before speaking.

“we all were... but he was harder on himself, remember? he would get mad, start kicking things and trying not to cry.”

remus lupin’s eyes were far away.

it hurt him too.

eventually, they walked to the great hall for dinner.

harry potter wanted to put together the pieces.

a black dog. the black dog.

he had seen that dog, he had gotten the grim, and it was their new professor’s greatest fear?

he knew the expression on her face—it was the one he, himself, wore when he was scared.

harry wanted to believe in coincidences, but doing that when he was harry potter wasn’t the best idea.

“professor vulpes,” ron began, from his seat on the couch. “she’s kind of fit, isn’t she?”

hermione sighed, rolling her eyes. “honestly, ronald, of all the things... i’m confused as to why she’s even here.”

harry raised an eyebrow at her.

“well,” hermione began, sounding very slightly unsure. “i’m sure if dumbledore thinks it’s smart for her to be here, it must be alright... but we’ve never needed two professors for one class.”

“i mean, he said she’s helping lupin, isn’t he?” harry added. “i like professor lupin, i feel like he’ll be the best teacher we’ve had. and vulpes... she seems nice, too.”

“i agree,” hermione told him, hastily. “it’s just that it seems a bit weird, is all...”

“she seemed to know lupin pretty well,” ron commented. harry and hermione looked over.

“well, it just seems like they’re familiar with each other. they’re in perfect step with each other, almost, did you notice? they watch each other. and why did she run in front of harry like that?”

“i dunno,” harry grumbled. “maybe trying to save me from embarrassment?”

hermione rolled her eyes. “or, she could be trying to help you?”

“i don’t know,” harry still had a twinge of bitterness in his tone. “she seems familiar to me, though.”

“hmm.”

[weasleysimp394]

Love Notes PT 1 [H.G.]

Hermione Granger x Ravenclaw Reader

Word Count: 764

A/N: Just a little idea I came up with after writing my post what the Golden Trio Era Characters look for in a relationship!

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You were running to potions class, and you were very, very late. You shuddered to think of the detention you were going to get later. You tried your best to sneak into the back of the classroom while Professor Snape breathed down the neck of another student, but like he bloody hawk he is, he saw you. “Detention i think, Mx. Y/L/N. I don’t need to give you a Memory Potion for you to remember your next class, do I?” You shook your head violently and quickly sat down next to your potions partner, Hermione Granger, who had her head shoved into the textbook, her potion furiously smoking.

“what did i miss?” you whispered, not wanting to upset Professor Snape further. “Sleeping Draught” she whispered back, and you pulled out your book and flipped to the correct page. You were about to pour the flobberworm mucus into the cauldron, but quickly stopping yourself when you saw a small piece of rolled up parchment in the bottom. You set down your bottle of Flobberworm Mucus and unrolled the scrap of parchment, upon which a note was scrawled in emerald green ink.

Dear Y/N, I love your hair and they way you brush it out of your eyes when you chop ingredients or take notes :) - Lutrinae

You sat back in your chair for a moment and puzzled over the note. What does “Lutrinae” mean? Who’s Lutrinae? Why did they write it? You rubbed your thumb over the alias and turned over the parchment, examining to see if anything else was written. Eyes still on the piece of parchment, you nudged Hermione. “hey d’you reckon you know who wrote this? You must’ve seen someone slip it in my cauldron.” Hermione shook her head, her cheeks slightly pink “I have no idea who wrote it. I’m sorry Y/N, I didn’t see anyone slip it in.” You smiled and shrugged, then shoved the note into your pocket to muse over later, your attention back on your Sleeping Draught.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

You joined your friends at the Ravenclaw table after your detention with Professor Snape. “I’m starving!” you said, plopping down next to Luna Lovegood and Padma Patil. “Where were you Y/N?” asked Luna. “Detention with Snape” you said darkly, shoveling food into your mouth. You continued eating, and laughing with your friends at Terry Boot and Michael Corner, who were trying to explode an apple being eaten by Draco Malfoy.

“Oh, hey Padma, Luna! You have friends in Gryffindor, right?” They both looked at you and nodded. You pulled the note out of the pocket in your robes, and unrolled it for them both to see. I found this note in my cauldron when I got to potions class. I was late, and so any second-year Ravenclaw or Gryffindor could’ve done it.” Padma’s brow furrowed as she puzzled over the piece of parchment. “who’s your partner in potions?” she asked, while Luna looked dreamily at the enchanted ceiling. “Hermione Granger. I asked if she had seen who put it in there, but she said she didn’t know.” you said.

Luna diverted her attention away from the ceiling. “Well either Hermione is telling the truth, or obviously whoever it is asked Hermione not to tell you. We can ask Ron and Harry if the three of them were late to class today, and we can ask Professor Flitwick about the meaning of the name ‘Lutrinae’” said Luna matter-of-factly.“That’s settled then. We’ll go to Professor Flitwick tomorrow, and after that we can try to talk to Ron and Harry without Hermione noticing.” You smiled at your new plan, excited to find out who was writing notes to you. You were struck with a sudden pang of guilt and quickly added “We have to make sure Hermione doesn’t find out we’re going behind her back. She’s really sweet, and I’d hate for her to get hurt because of a silly note.” Padma and Luna nodded.

You got distracted from your planning upon hearing a bang from the Slytherin table. “OUCH!” screamed a few Slytherins, and snickered, realizing Michael and Terry had succeeded in blowing up Draco’s apple. “MY FATHER WILL HEAR ABOUT THIS!!” shouted an outraged Malfoy. Michael and Terry were both howling with laughter, along with the rest of the Great Hall. “Oh will he then? You gonna go crying to daddy, because you’ve lost your apple?” shouted a red-haired Gryffindor boy from behind you, his voice full of mock sympathy. Tears streamed down your face from laughing, and for a few moments Lutrinae was forgotten.

__________

A/N: thanks for reading! I’m really excited for this series! I can’t wait and I have plenty of ideas ;) More coming soon! Have a magical day Loves 💛

[lovelystarlings]

Chapter Four - The Feast

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Albus Dumbledore had gotten to his feet. He was beaming at the students, his arms opened wide, as if nothing could have pleased him more than to see them all there. The happiness of it all sent a rush of pleasantness through the girl who began to applaud with the rest of Hogwarts as he began his speech.

"Welcome," he said. "Welcome to a new year at Hogwarts! Before we begin our banquet, I would like to say a few words. And here they are: Nitwit! Blubber! Oddment! Tweak!" The four houses began to cheer an clap as the headmaster sat back down in his chair, food covering every inch of the table he sat at too, all the staff immediately digging in, the clashes of cutlery echoing through the great hall.

"Is he a bit bonkers?" Harry asked, the ginger next to him-Camille had learnt his name was Percy and that he was Ron, Fred and George's elder brother-pulling a face of disgust at his words.

"Bonkers?" said Percy. "He's a genius! Best wizard in the world! But he is a bit bonkers yes. Are you not very hungry, Camille?" He spoke, looking at the plate in front of her, of which contained just a few roast potatoes and a measly slice of roast chicken, all of which was covered in gravy. Hermione shot the girl a worried glance from her seat, she spotted how small and frail the girl seemed, her wrists resembling sticks and circles surrounding her deep brown eyes.

"I do hope they start right away," Hermione spoke, stealing Percy's attention away from Camille's eating habits, "there's so much to learn, I'm particularly interested in Transfiguration, you know, turning something into something else, of course, it's supposed to be very difficult-"

"It's not as hard as it seems," Camille said softly, remembering what Madame Maxine had taught her during their private lesson's, "You just have to put your mind into it."

"You'll be starting small, just matches into needles and that sort of thing - " Percy spoke, leaning close to the two, as if he was telling them some sort of important secret. The conversation was cut short however, as Harry hissed harshly and clapped his hand to the scar on his forehead, drawing Percy's attention back to him.

"What is it?" The prefect asked.

"Who's that teacher talking to Professor Quirrell?" He asked, hands pushing his jet-black hair to cover his aching forehead.

"Know Quirrell already do you? Well, that's Professor Snape. He teaches Potions, but he doesn't want to - everyone knows he's after Quirrell's job. Knows an awful lot about the Dark Arts, Snape. It's no wonder considering who he used to work for, but you didn't hear that from me."

At last, the great desserts disappeared from the table to the relief of Camille, who at one point was afraid a tower of profiteroles was going to fall on her head. Heads turned once again to the front of the hall and Dumbledore rose, stepping forward to make another speech; one which Camille hoped she would understand this time. The hall silenced immediately.

"Ahern -- just a few more words now that we are all fed and watered. I have a few start-of-term notices to give you."

"First years should note that the forest on the grounds is forbidden to all pupils. And a few of our older students would do well to remember that as well."

Dumbledore's twinkling eyes flashed in the direction of the Weasley twins, who had their heads close together and whispered furiously, smirks painting their identical faces.

"I have also been asked by Mr. Filch, the caretaker, to remind you all that no magic should be used between classes in the corridors. Quidditch trials will be held in the second week of the term. Anyone interested in playing for their house teams should contact Madam Hooch. And finally, I must tell you that this year, the third-floor corridor on the right-hand side is out of bounds to everyone who does not wish to die a very painful death."

Camille turned her head to Hermione, not sure whether he was being sarcastic or she should really fear her life. She was tempted to take Fred and George and find out.

"And now, bedtime. Off you trot!"

The Gryffindor first years followed Percy through the chattering crowds, out of the Great Hall, and up the marble staircase. Camille was too sleepy even to be surprised that the people in the portraits along the corridors whispered and pointed as they passed, or that twice Percy led them through doorways hidden behind sliding panels and hanging tapestries. She leant her head on Hermione's shoulder, kitten like yawns leaving her mouth as the trail went on. They climbed more staircases, yawning and dragging their feet, and Camille had just about had enough when they came to a sudden halt.

A bundle of walking sticks was floating in mid-air ahead of them, and as Percy took a step toward them, they started throwing themselves at him, Camille flinching for him.

"Peeves," Percy whispered to the first years. "A poltergeist." That grasped Camille's attention, she had never come across a poltergeist before, but she had watched plenty of muggle films about them and was dreadfully curious. Percy raised his voice, "Peeves -- show yourself!"

A loud, vulgar noise answered, coming from behind the bundle of walking sticks.

"Do you want me to go to the Bloody Baron?" Percy spoke in a threatening voice.

There was a pop, and a little man with wicked, dark eyes and a wide mouth appeared, floating cross- legged in the air, clutching the walking sticks. "Oooooooh!" he said, with an evil cackle as he circled the group. "Ickle Bickle Firsties! What fun!"

Camille jumped back as the poltergeist suddenly jumped forwards into the group of children before zooming off around a corner.

"You want to watch out for Peeves," said Percy, as they set off again.

"The Bloody Baron's the only one who can control him, he won't even listen to us prefects. Here we are."

At the very end of the corridor hung a portrait of a very fat woman in a pink silk dress.

"Password?" she said. "Caput Draconis," said Percy, and the portrait swung forward to reveal a round hole in the wall. They all scrambled through it and found themselves in the Gryffindor common room, a cosy, round room full of squashy armchairs, tables, and a bulletin board where school notices, ads and lost posters were posted. It was decorated in several shades of red, which Camille assumed were associated with the house.

There were many windows that looked out onto the grounds of the school, and a large fireplace covered one wall. The mantle of the fireplace was adorned with a beautiful portrait of a lion. The walls were decorated with scarlet tapestries that depicted witches and wizards, but also a variety animals. There were also bookcases located in the room, filled with various novels that Hermione seemed to have a watchful eye on.

Percy directed the girls through one door to their dormitory and the boys through another. At the top of a spiral staircase - they were obviously in one of the towers - they found their beds at last: five four-posters hung with deep red, velvet curtains. Their trunks had already been brought up. Camille quickly familiarised herself with the girls she was to share a room with for her further years at Hogwarts. Hermione, to her relief, a girl called Lavender Brown who had the most amazingly tame curly hair Camille had ever seen and a dark skinned girl called Parvati Patil, who had been extremely welcoming to Camille, the two instantly initiating a conversation about Camille's favourite thing; dresses. Too tired to talk much, the four girls pulled on their pyjamas and fell instantly into their beds, Lavender and Parvati taking the two closest to the bathroom and Hermione and Camille being left with the two nearest the staircase.

"Hey Hermione?" Camille whispered through the darkness, hearing Parvati and lavender's snores, knowing instantly knowing they were asleep.

"Hm?" Hermione mumbled sleepily, obviously close to falling completely.

"We're safe here, right?" The French girl asked, her voice cracking ever so slightly.

"Of course, why wouldn't we be?" Hermione spoke clearly this time, looking at Camille through the darkness, worry shining in her eyes.

"No reason."

That night Camille dreamt strange things. Strange men with strange faces fighting off strange creatures with strange voices.

Harry Potter had dreamt a similar dream. 

[halothenthehorns]

TLTNL- THE HALF-BLOOD PRINCE

Harry flipped unenthusiastically to the start of his chapter. He couldn't say this was the worst start to his term, but things weren't going so well either. At least he had the ability to hope, considering his company. No matter how long he was in their presence, he knew that would never go away.

Harry and Ron met Hermione in the common room before breakfast next morning.

"She didn't wait up for you after escorting the first years up there?" Lily asked in surprise.

"Obviously not," Sirius snorted.

Hoping for some support in his theory, Harry lost no time in telling Hermione what he had overheard Malfoy saying on the Hogwarts Express.

Ron interjected on the same breath Harry finished obviously Malfoy was just showing off for Parkinson.

"Why?" James rolled his eyes. Ron trying so hard to play this off was just a tad insulting.

"Don't know," Harry shrugged, that grumpy look lingering in place. "Suppose he didn't want Hermione to think he was encouraging me."

Hermione agreed both were likely, though it was a big lie to tell.

"She's not wrong on any of that," Sirius said fairly. Remus huffed so quietly only Sirius had heard, and he supposed both he and Prongs might still be a little sore about the last time Hermione hadn't believed Harry.

Harry wanted to press his point, but all around them were students whispering behind their hands and still pointing at him.

"Subtle," Lily drew the word out pointedly, her hand twitching for her wand while she fought back a shout for them all to mind their own business.

  Ron snapped at a particularly minuscule first-year boy as they joined the queue to climb out of the portrait hole how rude it was to point. The boy, who had been muttering something about Harry behind his hand to his friend,

"Why do people bother with that hand thing?" James snapped of no one. "It does no good!"

"They like to pretend they're being subtle, not everyone can pull off our magnificence Prongs," Sirius stated.

promptly turned scarlet and toppled out of the hole in alarm.

Ron sniggered, saying he was going to love being a sixth year, whole periods used to just sit around and relax.

"If he chooses to never do any homework, then sure," Remus said with pity.

Hermione corrected they were going to need that extra time to study.

Ron insisted not today, it was going to be a real doss!

"Well it's the first day back-" Sirius began to agree, before the start to Harry's last year held his tongue from saying anything else.

Hermione suddenly threw her arm out, halting a passing fourth year, who was attempting to push past her with a lime-green disk clutched tightly in his hand. She scolded Fanged Frisbees were banned and confiscated it. The boy scowled before complying and running back off.

Ron waited just long enough for him to vanish before snatching it next.

Sirius threw Remus a fond smile, who in turn shook his head indulgently. Lily rolled her eyes and Harry chuckled lightly, he didn't need to ask, the reminiscent air between all three of them for that exchange didn't need words.

Hermione's remonstration was drowned by a loud giggle; Lavender Brown had apparently found Ron highly amusing.

"Wasn't she the one that giggled along at everything?" Lily asked, wondering why that had been mentioned at all.

"Except in Trelawney's class, then she believed every morbid word," Harry agreed without concern even if he did feel a flicker of annoyance far heavier than this should have called for.

She continued to laugh as she passed them, glancing back at Ron over her shoulder. Ron looked rather pleased with himself.

"Can't even blame him, that kind of attention's always valued," Sirius agreed.

The ceiling of the Great Hall was serenely blue and streaked with frail, wispy clouds, just like the squares of sky visible through the high mullioned windows. While they tucked into porridge and eggs and bacon, Harry and Ron told Hermione about their embarrassing conversation with Hagrid the previous evening.

Hermione was distressed even as she defended he couldn't be surprised. It wasn't as if they'd ever showed any real enthusiasm.

Ron pointed out they'd shown more than most, and Hagrid wouldn't realize that was because they liked him, not the subject.

"I guess I can kind of see why he'd think that," Remus scrunched up his face in thought, "but outside of class you've never made it clear that's what it was. I'm sure Hagrid will be an adult about this and just understand you didn't need it."

Then Ron wondered if anyone would continue to NEWT.

"Now he's being ridiculous," Sirius couldn't help but scoff at that idea. "There's any number of reasons you'd continue that class, careers for one thing that involve the grade."

"Liking of the class as well," Remus insisted, knowing he'd have been one.

Neither Harry nor Hermione answered; there was no need. They knew perfectly well that nobody in their year would want to continue Care of Magical Creatures.

"Oh come now, not everyone could hate it," Remus insisted. "I've admitted some of Hagrid's ideas were," he faltered, not able to come up with the right word for testing out a new species on a bunch of fourth years, but gallantly continued, "but I'd certainly happily have continued with the class! He's got a unique way of teaching."

Harry gave Remus a sideways look, but was surprised to find he honestly seemed to mean that. Harry supposed then there could have been others outside of his class who may fancy it, just none that he'd known.

They avoided Hagrid's eye and returned his cheery wave only half-heartedly when he left the staff table ten minutes later.

"That still won't be a fun conversation no matter what," Lily sighed, hoping Hagrid would understand, he'd always been good about that in the past.

After they had eaten, they remained in their places, awaiting Professor McGonagall's descent from the staff table. The distribution of class schedules was more complicated than usual this year, for Professor McGonagall needed first to confirm that everybody had achieved the necessary O.W.L. grades to continue with their chosen N.E.W.T.s.

Hermione was immediately cleared to continue with Charms, Defense Against the Dark Arts, Transfiguration, Herbology, Arithmancy, Ancient Runes, and Potions, and shot off to a first period Ancient Runes class without further ado.

"Don't even know why she waited around," James smirked. "No teacher would question why she walked into class."

Neville took a little longer to sort out; his round face was anxious as Professor McGonagall looked down his application and then consulted his O.W.L results. Herbology was perfect, Professor Sprout would be glad to see him again with his O grade.

Lily beamed, remembering her worry from the train how Neville could only focus on his least good grades. She did wish Harry had heard him say this, or that he'd even said it.

He also qualified for DA with his E.

"Really? I thought Snape only allowed O's," Harry heavily rolled his eyes, despite his pride Neville had done so good in that exam.

"Maybe a stipulation from Dumbledore was he had to accept that grade as well, it's a class a large majority of people do need still," Sirius speculated, though his preference would have been if Snape had just never gotten the bloody job.

The problem was his desire for Transfiguration, an A just wasn't an acceptable enough grade to be carrying on, he wouldn't cope with the course work.

Neville hung his head in shame, and McGonagall asked why the desire?

"I'm surprised Augusta never made him retake the exam," James said bitingly.

"Probably enjoying the attention he got too much and realized too late," Remus snipped.

Neville looked miserable and muttered something about what his grandmother wanted.

Lily scowled and bite her tongue to convince herself not to snap about that again.

McGonagall snorted, stating it was high time his grandmother accepted the grandson she had, rather than what she wished, especially after what happened at the Ministry.

Sirius let out a deep bark of triumphant laughter that was echoed throughout the room. Augusta shouldn't have to be told that, but what they would give to make her hear it.

Neville turned very pink and blinked confusedly; Professor McGonagall had never paid him a compliment before.

"Tis a genuine rarity," Remus agreed with a sad little smile, wishing Neville heard them far more often. Harry still didn't seem any more used to it either.

She still denied him access to Transfiguration, but suggested he continue with Charms, with his E.

Neville again mumbled his grandmother for answer, she found it a soft option.

"He still on about her?" James demanded shrewdly. "By this point Neville should be aware speaking her opinions isn't getting him anywhere."

"Seems it's all he knows, her opinions," Harry sighed quietly. He'd certainly been that way through his young life at the Dursleys before Hagrid.

McGonagall wouldn't hear of it, insisting he take Charms, and she'd be dropping Augusta a line reminding her that just because she failed her Charms O.W.L., the subject is not necessarily worthless.

Lily didn't bother to contain her triumphant laugh any more than Sirius had, all but beaming for this child finally hearing something like that.

Smiling slightly at the look of delighted incredulity on Neville's face, Professor McGonagall tapped a blank schedule with the tip of her wand and handed it, now carrying details of his new classes, to Neville.

"I must confess just one slight disappointment to this," Sirius' lighthearted tone held nothing of the sort. "She gave him an extra class! To prove a point mind you, but the homework!"

"Worth it," Remus stated, knowing he'd have done exactly the same.

Professor McGonagall turned next to Parvati Patil, whose first question was whether Firenze, the handsome centaur, was still teaching Divination.

McGonagall explained, with a shrewd voice showing her disapproval, that Trelawney and Firenze were splitting the students between them. Trelawney had the sixth years.

Parvati set off for Divination five minutes later looking slightly crestfallen.

James scoffed heavily, good to know where her priorities were.

Harry went next and was approved for all subjects, including Potions to his surprise. McGonagall prompted this, his desire to be an Auror required it and Slughorn was perfectly happy to take him on with an E.

Then she finished he already had a list of twenty hopefuls looking to make the team, and was waiting for him to set a date for trials at his leisure.

James had been absently listening to the part of the conversation he'd been well aware of, but now beamed all over again at the news. He couldn't wait to hear how Harry handled those! It would be as good as any game he'd played! Probably better, since it should be hard for even his son's life to be at risk at something like tryouts.

A few minutes later, Ron was cleared to do the same subjects as Harry, and the two of them left the table together.

Ron was delightedly going over his schedule, finding a free period now, and after their break, and lunch!

"Savor the idea of them while they last," Sirius sighed in agreement.

They returned to the common room, which was empty apart from a half dozen seventh years, including Katie Bell, the only remaining member of the original Gryffindor Quidditch team that Harry had joined in his first year.

"It all happens so fast," James agreed with a wistful smile at his son, his own age, and Harry felt a guilty flash as he realized his dad wasn't all talking about Quidditch in that moment.

She congratulated him on the badge.

"What happens if all the old team had graduated?" Harry asked quickly in hopes of changing the subject.

"Never happened," James easily shrugged like his mind had never been anywhere else except the pitch. "Seems a tad ridiculous, a whole team made up of nothing but seventh years. Some years there wouldn't even be enough to form a team."

She was waiting eagerly for trials.

Harry told her she didn't need that, he'd already seen her play for five years.

"He's got her there," Sirius nodded easily, this having been exactly what Prongs had said when someone had made the snide comment about Sirius not having to try out at their team.

She warned it wasn't good to start like that, there had been many a bad teams because Captains just kept replaying old faces or letting all their friends in.

"Maybe she should have been made Captain," Harry muttered for himself, having no confidence in himself as he at once felt like giving his own best mate a guilty look.

"Don't be ridiculous Harry!" James was clearly scandalized at the comment. "You're going to have a blast with this, you'll see!"

His absolutely assured tone meant Harry couldn't possibly do anything but smile back.

Ron looked a little uncomfortable and began playing with the Fanged Frisbee Hermione had taken from the fourth-year student. It zoomed around the common room, snarling and attempting to take bites of the tapestry. Crookshanks's yellow eyes followed it and he hissed when it came too close.

An hour later they reluctantly left the sunlit common room for the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom four floors below. Hermione was already queuing outside, carrying an armful of heavy books and looking put-upon. She already had a fifteen inch essay, two translations, and the books she was carrying all due Wednesday for her Runes.

"I feel like Hermione's being her usual self," Lily's brows crept up in worry. "There's just no way possible all that was assigned for two days from then."

Ron yawned.

Hermione resentfully snapped Snape would be giving them just as much.

"There's an argument they actually never had," Harry mock laughed.

The classroom door opened as she spoke, and Snape stepped into the corridor, his sallow face framed as ever by two curtains of greasy black hair.

Lily clucked her tongue and rolled her eyes, trying hard not to direct that at Harry. Was such a nasty description really needed three times in one book? She wasn't particularly fond of him of late either, but there were limits of what was needed.

Silence fell over the queue immediately.

Harry looked around as they entered. Snape had imposed his personality upon the room already;

"Dark and heartless?" Sirius offered.

it was gloomier than usual, as curtains had been drawn over the windows, and was lit by candlelight.

"Don't be ridiculous Padfoot, you turn into a dog, not a parrot," James smirked over at him, while Sirius didn't at all look upset about mimicking the book.

New pictures adorned the walls, many of them showing people who appeared to be in pain, sporting grisly injuries or strangely contorted body parts.

Remus made a snide comment under his breath, causing Sirius to snicker. James grumbled he was too far away to be in on the joke, while one look at their expressions had Lily thankful for the same.

Nobody spoke as they settled down, looking around at the shadowy, gruesome pictures. He told them to put those books away, closing the door and moving to face the class from behind his desk;

"Remember when he used to yell at us for not taking the initiative to copy down every bloody word he said," Harry groused.

Hermione hastily dropped her copy of Confronting the Faceless back into her bag and stowed it under her chair as he continued he was going to speak to them first and they were to give their fullest attention.

"When have you ever been denied that?" James asked innocently enough, though both Harry and Lily gave him a frown for that reminder they didn't need.

His black eyes roved over their upturned faces, lingering for a fraction of a second longer on Harry's than anyone else's.

All five of them made a face right back for this.

They'd had five teachers in this subject so far, he began,

"Why on Earth did he only recount the ones from my years," Harry rolled his eyes.

"Didn't want to say the number seven thousand I suppose," Sirius shrugged without concern. "Every year it had to get more grating to him," he finished with a satisfied smirk.

"How old do you think this curse is?" Remus asked more curious than anything for Sirius' exaggeration.

Sirius shrugged without concern, his point still stood.

naturally all those teachers methods and priorities had shifted with each. Given this, he was astounded so many had scraped by with any decent grade.

"All thanks to Harry," James primly boasted.

"Dad," Harry rolled his eyes in exasperation, sure he really hadn't done more than help them all along than what they all thought. He was ignored, James' proud smile not dimming more than anyone else's.

He would be even more surprised if all of them managed to keep up with the N.E.W.T. work, which would be more advanced.

"I still find it a miracle anyone passed their Potions OWL's," Remus huffed, knowing that threat was going to be as literal as it could get.

James and Sirius were just surprised Snape hadn't made yet another snide comment about Moony, yet.

Snape set off around the edge of the room, speaking now in a lower voice; the class craned their necks to keep him in view as he continued the Dark Arts were varied, ever-changing, and eternal. To cut of the neck of one would sprout the head of two more, fiercer and cleverer than the last.

"Just call it a hydra you blithering monotone!" Sirius sneered.

"Honestly, he does have to make everything sound oh so important," Remus huffed in agreement.

Harry stared at Snape. It was surely one thing to respect the Dark Arts as a dangerous enemy, another to speak of them, as Snape was doing, with a loving caress in his voice?

There was an ugly twist to the lips of the Marauders, Harry uneasily noticed, and his mum nibbling at her lip with a distant look in her eye. Harry wondered how many times they'd all seen this developing in Snape's youth, how this speech probably wasn't at all unfamiliar to those growing up with future Death Eaters.

He continued at normal volume their defenses for this then must be as flexible and inventive as the arts you seek to undo.

Lily couldn't help a small smile for that though, knowing she was the only one but grateful all the same he'd moved on to the importance of this class.

The pictures around them were to show instances of what they may be facing, waving at the Cruciatus Curse,

Harry shivered uneasily, not meeting anyone's eyes. Snape just had to put that one up there, to constantly remind him for the next year what he'd once lived through.

A Dementor's Kiss,

Sirius' skin went sallow. Even now that the threat had been taken from his future life, the reminder it had once had lingered so long over him would not pass soon.

and an Inferius.

Parvati Patil asked if it had been confirmed he was using those?

Snape returned the Dark Lord had used Inferi in the past, which meant it was well-advised to assume he was doing so again.

"He actually managed to answer her without an insult thrown in!" James brows flew up into his hairline. "Glory, he must be in a good mood!"

"I give it another five minutes to last, he'll throw some tripe at Harry soon," Sirius huffed.

He set off again around the other side of the classroom toward his desk, and again, they watched him as he walked, his dark robes billowing behind him. He spoke of the fact that they were complete novices in nonverbal spells, and asked of them what the advantage of those were.

Hermione's hand shot into the air. Snape took his time looking around at everybody else, making sure he had no choice,

"Mildly better than calling her a know-it-all again," Harry grumbled.

before curtly calling upon her.

She gave a text for word answer from the Standard Book of Spells grade 6; the adversary had no warning of what you were fixing to do.

Snape briefly mocked her for that, but agreed in essence it was correct.

Not a skill all could utilize, as some wizards lacked the concentration and mind power for it, his eyes resting on Harry at the end.

"Whew, I was starting to worry about another teacher being replaced," James mock wiped his brow in relief at the renewed insults to his son.

"Not yet sure if I wouldn't prefer Fake-Eye," Remus grumbled, mostly kidding, but at least he'd still been more helpful to Harry's survival before trying to kill him.

Harry knew Snape was thinking of their disastrous Occlumency lessons of the previous year. He refused to drop his gaze, but glowered at Snape until Snape looked away.

He instructed them to divide into pairs and practice this.

Although Snape did not know it, Harry had taught at least half the class (everyone who had been a member of the D.A.) how to perform a Shield Charm the previous year. None of them had ever cast the charm without speaking, however. A reasonable amount of cheating ensued; many people were merely whispering the incantation instead of saying it aloud. Typically, ten minutes into the lesson Hermione managed to repel Neville's muttered Jelly-Legs Jinx without uttering a single word,

Sirius let out a surprised whistle, they all looked rather impressed with this except Harry, who thought by now that would have worn off on them.

a feat that would surely have earned her twenty points for Gryffindor from any reasonable teacher, thought Harry bitterly, but which Snape ignored.

"I'm sure she'll get it from every other teacher in the following classes," James assured with a chuckle.

He swept between them as they practiced, looking just as much like an overgrown bat as ever, lingering to watch Harry and Ron struggling with the task.

Ron, who was supposed to be jinxing Harry, was purple in the face, his lips tightly compressed to save himself from the temptation of muttering the incantation. Harry had his wand raised, waiting on tenterhooks to repel a jinx that seemed unlikely ever to come.

"You could still be practicing while waiting," Remus offered helpfully. "Even helps yourself to hold onto the spell, build up resilience."

Harry gave him a light smile, once again wishing for the dozenth time Professor Lupin had never left.

When Snape saw this he called Weasley pathetic, and offered to show how to properly do it.

He turned his wand on Harry so fast that Harry reacted instinctively; all thought of nonverbal spells forgotten, he yelled Protego!

His Shield Charm was so strong Snape was knocked off-balance and hit a desk.

All three boys burst out laughing with surprise for that, while Lily's teeth sank into her lip again, knowing that wasn't going to go over well.

The whole class had looked around and now watched as Snape righted himself, scowling. He demanded of Potter if he recalled the use of nonverbal spells being used.

Harry said yes.

Snape corrected yes sir.

Harry told there was no need to call him sir, Professor.

James snorted so violently he was sure his own nose had been broken, Sirius dissolved into mirthless laughter at once and would not be upright without the support of the sofa, and Remus gave Harry an appreciative nod, "you tell 'em Harry."

To Harry's greatest surprise though, his mother laughed hardest of all, holding her sides for several moments before beaming with pride at her sharp tongued boy. She couldn't have done better herself in giving such a reply to a teacher who deserved it.

It took Harry a moment to even remember he was supposed to keep going. He rarely felt he deserved their praise, but in this instance of his sassing a teacher, he actually just wanted to linger as long as he could on that smirk in place.

Several people gasped, including Hermione. Behind Snape, however, Ron, Dean, and Seamus grinned appreciatively.

Snape issued a detention at once on Saturday.

"Smarmy bloke," Remus sighed, fighting back the impulse to do the opposite and award Harry house points he deserved as much as Hermione.

"Never could take a joke," Sirius agreed, still in between mirthless laughter. He'd never enjoyed Harry's snark as much as he was in this moment.

Lily brushed her hair out of her face, her laughter finally subsiding enough to frown at them. Snape had laughed at plenty of her jokes, and it saddened her to once again realize just how much he'd changed, where once he would have been laughing as hard as them if she'd done such a thing.

Ron congratulated him as they stepped out of the class, while Hermione scolded that had been a terrible idea!

Harry defended he'd been fixing to be jinxed! He was sick of Snape using him as a guinea pig! What had Dumbledore been thinking, putting him in this class? Did they hear all that stuff he was going on about the Dark Arts, he was in love with them!

Hermione interrupted to say she'd thought he sounded like Harry had last year.

The outrage bursting out of Harry was clear enough even before he'd finished, he didn't need to hear the others shock to continue in hopes she had a very good explanation for this that still wouldn't justify comparing him to that bat!

When he'd first given his speech to the DA, he'd said it was about more than memorizing spells. It took action and cunning, that's exactly what Snape had been saying.

"Many people have said the same thing in a new way," Remus contradicted, though it was in a more kindly tone than either of his friends could have managed, sounding more like he wanted to gently debate the subject with Hermione. "That does not necessarily mean those two are of the same mind, a very simple thought could be taken over a dozen different ways."

"So, don't insult Harry again," Sirius concluded.

Lily huffed and glared at all four of them, was it really such a terrible thing? There had been a time where she would have beamed if her boy turned into anything like her old friend. Not so much now, she'd admit, but it didn't have to be a blanket insult.

Harry was so disarmed that she had thought his words as well worth memorizing as The Standard Book of Spells that he did not argue.

Lily giggled in surprise as Harry's faint blush appeared in here as well.

Then Harry looked around; Jack Sloper, one of the Beaters on last year's Gryffindor Quidditch team, was hurrying toward him holding a roll of parchment. He handed it off before asking when Quidditch trials were?

Harry said he wasn't sure yet, thinking to himself Sloper would be lucky to make the team again.

"Wasn't he the one that knocked himself out with is own bat?" Sirius said in remembered disgust.

"How he even got on in the first place is still a mystery," James sighed.

Sloper began hoping it was going to be this weekend-

but Harry was not listening; he had just recognized the thin, slanting writing on the parchment. Leaving Sloper in mid-sentence,

"Can't even blame you, I wouldn't care what he wanted the schedule to be either," James muttered, only marginally more invested in whatever this was Dumbledore was up to.

he hurried away with Ron and Hermione, unrolling the parchment as he went.

Dear Harry,

I would like to start our private lessons this Saturday. Kindly come along to my office at 8.

P.M. I hope you are enjoying your first day back at school.

"Oh yes, got to watch McGonagall put a shrew in place, and then I in turn did the same," Sirius agreed enthusiastically.

Yours sincerely,

Albus Dumbledore

P.S. I enjoy Acid Pops.

Harry laughed Snape wasn't going to be pleased his detention was being put off.

"As if he won't demand it be rearranged," James rolled his eyes.

He, Ron, and Hermione spent the whole of break speculating on what Dumbledore would teach Harry. Ron thought it most likely to be spectacular jinxes and hexes of the type the Death Eaters would not know. Hermione said such things were illegal, and thought it much more likely that Dumbledore wanted to teach Harry advanced Defensive magic.

"Because that's so much better," Sirius rolled his eyes.

Remus stayed quite, not really thinking it was any of that, but baffled what it could be nonetheless.

After break, she went off to Arithmancy while Harry and Ron returned to the common room where they grudgingly started Snape's homework. This turned out to be so complex that they still had not finished when Hermione joined them for their after-lunch free period,

"What was the essay over?" Remus asked with far to much curiosity as far as Sirius and James were concerned. They could never sound so caring about something labeled as homework.

"The Theory of Nonverbal Spells and Their Impractical Uses," Harry huffed, his brain still getting a little sore at trying to read through texts about that.

Sirius couldn't help it, Snape's essay or not, the topic did light his intrigue and he opened his mouth to offer up something, but Harry hadn't noticed and kept going.

(though she considerably sped up the process). They had only just finished when the bell rang for the afternoon's double Potions and they beat the familiar path down to the dungeon classroom that had, for so long, been Snape's.

When they arrived in the corridor they saw that there were only a dozen people progressing to N.E.W.T. level. Crabbe and Goyle had evidently failed to achieve the required O.W.L. grade, but four Slytherins had made it through, including Malfoy. Four Ravenclaws were there, and one Hufflepuff, Ernie Macmillan, whom Harry liked despite his rather pompous manner.

He greeted Harry by offering his hand, again congratulating him for his show in DA, and then greeted Ron and Hermione.

Before they could say more than fine, the dungeon door opened and Slughorn's belly preceded him out of the door.

James couldn't help but snort at all the flashbacks that caused, they'd said many a same thing about him.

As they filed into the room, his great walrus mustache curved above his beaming mouth, and he greeted Harry and Zabini with particular enthusiasm.

Remus clucked his tongue and rolled his eyes, some things never changed, while Lily giggled just a bit at thinking the exact same.

The dungeon was, most unusually, already full of vapors and odd smells. Harry, Ron, and Hermione sniffed interestedly as they passed large, bubbling cauldrons. The four Slytherins took a table together, as did the four Ravenclaws. This left Harry, Ron, and Hermione to share a table with Ernie. They chose the one nearest a gold-colored cauldron that was emitting one of the most seductive scents Harry had ever inhaled: Somehow it reminded him simultaneously of treacle tart, the woody smell of a broomstick handle, and something flowery he thought he might have smelled at the Burrow.

"Amortentia," Lily said at once, though only Harry had looked to her for an answer.

James in particular had an unnaturally grumpy look on his face, still remembering the sting of his son thinking he'd used a love potion on his wife, or some other way for them to be together. He wasn't fond of them at the moment at any rate.

He found that he was breathing very slowly and deeply and that the potion's fumes seemed to be filling him up like drink. A great contentment stole over him; he grinned across at Ron, who grinned back lazily.

Slughorn asked that they all have their scales and kits out, and turn their copies of Advanced Potion-Making to page-

Harry politely cut in to say he didn't have any things for this class, nor did Ron, explaining they'd thought they couldn't take the class.

Slughorn strode over to a corner cupboard and, after a moment's foraging, emerged with two very battered-looking copies of Advanced Potion-Making by Libatius Borage, which he gave to Harry and Ron along with two sets of tarnished scales.

Harry couldn't properly explain it, but he felt a sharp tingling tracing up his spine for this. It was ridiculous of course, he'd just been given some old things, nothing was going to come of that.

Slughorn, returning to the front of the class and inflating his already bulging chest so that the buttons on his waistcoat threatened to burst off,

"You learn to duck fast in that class," Sirius smirked, and Harry wasn't entirely sure if he was kidding or speaking from experience.

and began he'd prepared some potions they'd all come to recognize by the end of this class, and they ought to have at least heard of them by now. He indicated the cauldron nearest the Slytherin table. Harry raised himself slightly in his seat and saw what looked like plain water boiling away inside it.

"Veritaserum," Lily sighed, not appreciating the reminder of what Snape had once threatened to use on Harry, and in turn used to interrogate someone still that same year.

Hermione's well-practiced hand hit the air before anybody else's; Slughorn pointed at her. She quoted the properties of Veritaserum verbatim.

Slughorn happily congratulated her before pointing to the next at the Ravenclaws table, giving them a hint this one had been mentioned by the Ministry's pamphlets of late.

Hermione's hand was fastest once more, stating it as Polyjuice Potion.

Harry too had recognized the slow-bubbling, mudlike substance in the second cauldron,

"Can't hardly forget that one," Harry's nose again crinkled in remembered disgust.

but did not resent Hermione getting the credit for answering the question; she, after all, was the one who had succeeded in making it, back in their second year.

Lily sighed in exasperation, that one still blew her mind.

Slughorn had barely gestured to the one at their table before, now looking slightly bemused, called Hermione's hand punching the air again. She identified this one as Amortentia, the strongest Love Potion in the world. The details of which were that it gave off an aroma unique to each person. She smelled freshly mown grass, new parchment, and-

But she turned slightly pink and did not complete the sentence.

"Wonder why," Sirius said with honest interest, it's not as if it was really that revealing.

Slughorn asked for her name, and once given, speculated if she was related to Hector Dagworth-Granger, who founded the Most Extraordinary Society of Potioneers?

"Would make his day to find another pureblood he could kiss up to," James sniffed.

"Instead he gets to meet another Lily," Sirius rolled his eyes while she flushed and glared at the pair.

She corrected she doubted this, as she was Muggle-born.

Harry saw Malfoy lean close to Nott and whisper something; both of them sniggered, but Slughorn showed no dismay; on the contrary, he beamed and looked from Hermione to Harry, who was sitting next to her.

He quoted Harry from the summer saying one of his best friends was the best in his year and Muggle-born, this must be that very friend.

Harry agreed, and Slughorn awarded her twenty house points for correctly identifying them all.

Malfoy looked rather as he had done the time Hermione had punched him in the face.

'Ah, good memories,' all of the boys were smirking again at once, thinking something similar.

Hermione turned to Harry with a radiant expression and whispered if he'd really said that?

Ron grumbled what was the big deal, for some reason looking annoyed.

"That, Harry gave the compliment and not him?" Remus asked in confusion. Harry shrugged, he had no clue of that reaction either.

He'd have said the same thing if anyone had asked him.

Slughorn continued on Amortentia, calling it the most powerful potion in this room, emphasizing this at the sceptical looks on some faces like Malfoy. When they'd lived as long as he had, they'd know how powerful and obsessive something like love could be.

"Sounds like he's speaking from experience," Harry said in surprise. He didn't often think about a teachers home life, but did suddenly wonder if Slughorn had been leaving more than old students in his trail of houses.

"I can't say for sure," Lily said with a bit of dignity, she didn't like to pry into her teachers lives.

Slughorn then tried to call attention to today's work, but Ernie cut in to ask about the potion still on his desk, which was full of bright gold potion that was all but leaping out of its very surface.

Harry shifted with that feeling all over again, he really didn't like he had one for all four of those potions, though all for varying reasons. He glanced hopefully at his mum, seeing at once she recognized it, and wasn't disappointed. "Felix Felicis. Highly dangerous if brewed just a tiny bit incorrectly, poisonous if taken regularly, but Merlin does it have some effect on the world."

The faint blush she ended with had all of the boys turning to look at her in the end though, James asked slowly, "Lily, did you happen to ever use some?"

She feigned as if she hadn't heard, giggling in a girlish way Harry hadn't really seen quite yet. However, she refused to elaborate, and waved her son on. He only grudgingly did so when a solid ten minutes of her husbands pestering proved futile.

Harry at once knew Slughorn had forgotten no such thing, but had saved it for dramatic affect. Slughorn wasn't at all surprised when Hermione told it was Felix Felicis, and that it made the drinker lucky.

The whole class seemed to sit up a little straighter. Now all Harry could see of Malfoy was the back of his sleek blond head, because he was at last giving Slughorn his full and undivided attention.

"Is that all it took," James grumbled, huffier than usual with one eye still on his wife, who still kept breaking out into snickers.

He mentioned all the good of the potion, but once Terry asked why people didn't just drink it all the time, Slughorn explained all it's dangers as well.*

He'd had it twice, both perfect days. He gazed dreamily into the distance. Whether he was playacting or not, thought Harry, the effect was good.

"Nah, I'm confident that one's real," Sirius rolled his eyes.

He concluded it would be a prize for today's lesson. There was silence in which every bubble and gurgle of the surrounding potions seemed magnified tenfold. He pulled a tiny vile out of his pocket of the very same potion, enough for twelve hours.

"Hope Hermione uses it for something good," James grumbled, still giving his wife a pouting look she wouldn't acknowledge.

He first warned it was banned from sporting events, examinations, or elections, so be sure to only use it on an ordinary day, and watch it become extraordinary!

Then he told them to flip to their book on the Draught of Living Death.

There was a scraping as everyone drew their cauldrons toward them and some loud clunks as people began adding weights to their scales, but nobody spoke. The concentration within the room was almost tangible.

"A phrase you'll never hear Snape accomplish," Remus smirked.

Harry saw Malfoy riffling feverishly through his copy of Advanced Potion-Making. It could not have been clearer that Malfoy really wanted that lucky day.

"Least we know he can't bribe his way into it," James finally stopped eyeing the red head to sneer at the book.

"His will probably be the worst attempt, he never had to try in that class," Sirius agreed.

Harry bent swiftly over the tattered book Slughorn had lent him.

To his annoyance he saw that the previous owner had scribbled all over the pages, so that the margins were as black as the printed portions. Bending low to decipher the ingredients (even here, the previous owner had made annotations and crossed things out) Harry hurried off toward the store cupboard to find what he needed. As he dashed back to his cauldron, he saw Malfoy cutting up Valerian roots as fast as he could.

Everyone kept glancing around at what the rest of the class was doing;

Lily tisked, she'd found by the end of the first year what an advantage and disadvantage that could be. It truly was sad Harry was still picking up on such things years too late.

this was both an advantage and a disadvantage of Potions, that it was hard to keep your work private. Within ten minutes, the whole place was full of bluish steam. Hermione, of course, seemed to have progressed furthest. Her potion already resembled the "smooth, black currant-colored liquid" mentioned as the ideal halfway stage.

Having finished chopping his roots, Harry bent low over his book again. It was really very irritating, having to try and decipher the directions under all the stupid scribbles of the previous owner, who for some reason had taken issue with the order to cut up the sopophorous bean and had written in the alternative instruction:

Crush with flat side of silver dagger, releases juice better than cutting.

"Oh," Lily blinked at that.

"What?" James asked curiously, hoping she'd at least answer one question today.

"That'll work extremely well, seems this book gives very good advice, instead of just nonsense like Harry was thinking," Lily said, but there was a curious look on her face. There weren't many people who knew that trick.

Harry glanced up when Malfoy called for the Professor's attention, pointing out Slughorn had known his grandfather, Abraxas Malfoy.

Slughorn indifferently agreed, though he had been saddened at his death, but dragon pox at that age...

Then he walked away. Harry bent back over his cauldron, smirking. He could tell that Malfoy had expected to be treated like Harry or Zabini; perhaps even hoped for some preferential treatment of the type he had learned to expect from Snape. It looked as though Malfoy would have to rely on nothing but talent to win the bottle of Felix Felicis.

The sopophorous bean was proving very difficult to cut up. Harry turned to Hermione, asking to borrow her knife.

She nodded impatiently, not taking her eyes off her potion, which was still deep purple, though according to the book ought to be turning a light shade of lilac by now.

Harry crushed his bean with the flat side of the dagger. To his astonishment, it immediately exuded so much juice he was amazed the shriveled bean could have held it all.

Harry's surprised little smile about made Lily's day. It was high time he finally saw the good this class could offer.

Hastily scooping it all into the cauldron he saw, to his surprise, that the potion immediately turned exactly the shade of lilac described by the textbook.

His annoyance with the previous owner vanishing on the spot, Harry now squinted at the next line of instructions. According the book, he had to stir counterclockwise until the potion turned clear as water. According to the addition the previous owner made, however, he ought to add a clockwise stir after every seventh counterclockwise stir.

Lily's brows disappeared right into her hairline now. How many students would have spent the time to figure that out, and wrote them down in an old potions textbook?

Could the old owner be right twice?

Harry stirred counterclockwise, held his breath, and stirred once clockwise. The effect was immediate. The potion turned pale pink.

Hermione demanded how he'd done that, red faced with frustration her own was still purple.

He began to explain the trick of a clockwise stir, but she snappily said the book said counterclockwise!

"Why'd she snap if she didn't want to hear the answer?" Sirius laughed hard at Hermione's temper showing like that.

"What do you lot make of this?" Harry demanded, the eagerness in his voice far more than the Marauders understood.

"Some barmy kid was actually good at potions and took notes," Remus shrugged without concern.

"Probably blew a potion or two in their face trying," Sirius added with a smirk.

"Likely dumped the thing when they realized no one cared," James finished with an eye roll.

Lily pressed her lips together to stop herself laughing again. She still wasn't quite convinced yet, but those boys had just described a large amount of time in her youth, with her best friend, except that last part.

Harry shrugged and continued what he was doing.

Across the table, Ron was cursing fluently under his breath; his potion looked like liquid licorice. Harry glanced around. As far as he could see, no one else's potion had turned as pale as his. He felt elated, something that had certainly never happened before in this dungeon.

Lily couldn't help it now, her buoyant mood wouldn't keep the laugh contained, but the boys gave it no thought. Of course she'd be happy Harry was finally enjoying her favorite class.

Slughorn finally called for times up. He moved slowly among the tables, peering into cauldrons. He made no comment, but occasionally gave the potions a stir or a sniff. At last he reached the table where Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Ernie were sitting. He smiled ruefully at the tarlike substance in Ron's cauldron. He passed over Ernie's navy concoction. Hermione's potion he gave an approving nod.

"I don't get it," Harry said, glancing from the book in his lap to his mum. "Why would mine be better than Hermione's, if she's following all the instructions?"

"Hermione's about to learn a hard lesson about Potioneering," Lily happily explained. "Of course if you follow the instructions you'll get your desired Potion, Hermione's drought would have caused the same endless sleep as yours. However, because the previous owner spent the time to ruminate, perfect, tweak the potion even, your affects will be longer lasting, and much stronger. Potions are the only magic meant to be tampered with, carefully of course," she finished with a rueful hand down her bright hair.

Harry wondered how many times she'd singed it off by tweaking a potion. She certainly seemed very keen on the idea, and while Harry knew she'd liked the subject before, he'd never seen her so serious on it as she was now.

Then he saw Harry's, and a look of incredulous delight spread over his face. Announcing his as the clear winner! He'd certainly inherited his mother's talents!

Lily laughed harder than she meant to, really getting the boys attention now, but still she shook her head, not willing to admit yet what was on her mind. She really wasn't even sure what their reaction would be, and for now they just looked bemused, so she'd take that as long as she could.

Harry slipped the tiny bottle of golden liquid into his inner pocket, feeling an odd combination of delight at the furious looks on the Slytherins' faces and guilt at the disappointed expression on Hermione's. Ron looked simply dumbfounded.

Ron asked what he'd done, and Harry said he'd gotten lucky while Malfoy was still in ear shot.

Once they were securely ensconced at the Gryffindor table for dinner, however, he felt safe enough to tell them. Hermione's face became stonier with every word he uttered. He huffed if she really thought he'd cheated?

"It's not cheating," James rolled his eyes at once. Of course Hermione would be ticked her way hadn't worked.

"So Harry got a better instruction manual, according to Lily, that means someone out there could still do the Potion even better the next time," Sirius agreed.

She stiffly responded it hadn't exactly been his own work.

Ron just waved off he got different instructions. Slughorn could have just as easily given that book to him, but he'd only gotten one that someone puked on page fifty-two.

"Why was he looking that far ahead?" Remus chuckled in surprise, but answered his own question in his head. At the point Ron realized he wasn't winning, he supposed he would have started flipping through pages out of boredom.

A voice close by Harry's left ear cut in, and he caught a sudden waft of that flowery smell he had picked up in Slughorn's dungeon. He looked around and saw that Ginny had joined them.

Sirius burst out laughing in surprise at that. "I suppose Ginny spends a lot of time out in the gardens?"

Harry didn't really answer, just a muttered agreement, his mind felt suddenly loose from his body at her sudden appearance and he tried to shake that off, unsuccessfully.

Her voice was sharp, concerned, as she demanded if he'd really been taking instructions from a book.

"Oh," James murmured, all the humor vanishing almost at once from the room. That wasn't something nearly as fond to be remembered, the poor girl probably still had nightmares about that.

She looked alarmed and angry. Harry knew what was on her mind at once. He promised it was nothing like Riddle's diary, just some notes someone had scribbled down.

Hermione was excited Ginny could have a point.

"Yes, if the book's evil, that makes it okay it outsmarted you," Remus rolled his eyes.

She snatched it away from him and did a Specialis Revelio spell, but nothing happened.

Harry snatched it back, asking if she wanted to see it do backflips.

"Can it?" Sirius asked with only mild sarcasm. "That would have made reading them some actual fun sometimes."

"Bit more a challenge, couldn't hurt," James agreed.

As he tried to put it away into his bag, it slipped from his hand and landed open on the floor. Harry bent low to retrieve the book, and as he did so, he saw something scribbled along the bottom of the back cover in the same small, cramped handwriting as the instructions that had won him his bottle of Felix Felicis, now safely hidden inside a pair of socks in his trunk upstairs.

This book is the property of the Half-Blood Prince.

Harry's eyes flipped wide in surprise, a harsh thump like before pressing in on him leaving no doubt he should know that name, recognize it to see it meant something.

He was distracted at once though by his mother throwing her head back laughing.

HPHPHPHP

I know, I know, you all hate me for again cutting off the good reaction. Promise everything you're wanting to ask will come up in the next chapter!

*This potion is one of the more common complaints I've seen of the HP world, and I think people forget this line in particular. It's not common, would take Hermione ages to make, and would be extremely dangerous to use consecutively to get a job done. I like that magic clearly has limits and downsides in this world, it makes it more real to me, instead of everything just having an easy solution if you take one bit of the answer and ignore the rest.

[mfingenius]

i jUST found ur Veela au and im already invested!! how did harry react to being Draco’s mate?!??

Part 1      Part 2      Part 3

Harry is freaking tf out 

Draco’s still asleep and part of harry wants to wake him up bc HOW DARE HE drop this sort of bomb and then just sleep??

but madam pomfrey tells him that if he wakes mr. malfoy she’ll make him suffer bc he needs to sleep

and that harry needs it too and if she sees him still awake in a couple hours she’ll give him a sleeping potion

so after she’s tended to his wounds (which were thankfully minimal apart from fucking dying) he places his infirmary bed next to draco’s and falls asleep holding his hand 

he wakes a long long time later (understandable, this boy hasn’t slept well in like a year)

Draco’s staring at their still linked hands, frozen, bc he remembers what he said and he thinks harry won’t want him anymore bc veelas mate for life and they’re seventeen ffs

he hasn’t noticed harry’s awake

‘draco’

draco snaps his eyes up to harry’s face and immediately goes red

‘i’m sorry, harry, i didn’t mean to tell you like that. it’s alright if you - if you don’t want me right now. i know i’m not - i’m damaged now and-’

‘Draco’

‘and i swear i tried to fight them and every day i thought of you but i couldn’t stop the crucios and-’

‘draco’

‘and i know i don’t deserve you-’

‘Draco!’

Draco finally shuts up

‘i don’t care what happened at the manor’

it’s a lie

harry does so care about what happened at the manor but not bc of the reasons draco thinks 

he just cares bc he wants to know who he’s sending to azkaban first 

‘and i never want to hear you say you don’t deserve me again. you deserve everything. i love you.’

draco’s at a loss of words

he was so convinced harry was going to break up with him 

‘can you explain the mate thing to me?’

so draco tells him everything 

about how he knew in fourth year and that was why he joined the order and the ridiculous care-taker instincts that have been driving him insane 

he tells him all of it 

down to how he felt him die 

harry frowns and cups draco’s face

‘i’m so sorry’

and they kiss 

cut forward to when madam pomfrey practically kicks them out of the infirmary (as soon as draco can walk bc apparently the spell did some good damage but it was mostly blood loss) bc other people need the beds

neither of them knows what to do then

everyone is still mourning for friends or family so thankfully they’re allowed to sneak away 

remus and tonks have already gone home to teddy 

draco and harry go to grimmauld place to stay with sirius for a bit 

the news about their eighth year come out a few months into their stay there and neither of them are sure whether they want to go back or not

the aurors have already made it clear they’ll take harry (and all of them) newts or no

but harry doesn’t think he wants to be an auror anymore

he still has nightmares of the war 

and so does draco 

he sees how they leave him shaking, and how he won’t let harry touch him for hours afterwards curled up in a corner of their room

and honestly he thinks they’ve both had enough 

but he doesn’t know what else to do 

it’s not like either of them need to work 

harry’s filthy rich bc of his parents 

draco’s filthy rich bc since he was a spy for the order the malfoy fortune has gone to him without being touched by the ministry (lucius malfoy is in azkaban fucking finally)

but harry also doesn’t want to just not work 

but he sure as hell doesn’t want to go back to hogwarts as a student bc he doesn’t think he could ever do that again 

draco does want to go back for eighth year 

in the whole year he was captive he didn’t do magic at all and he’s been struggling a lot with it 

neither of them want to be apart 

so 

it’s mcgonagall who delivers the answer to them 

she goes to grimmauld place personally 

and before harry can even speak she tells him ‘i know you don’t want to come back as a student’

and then proceeds to offer him the defense against the dark arts position 

although harry hadn’t thought of it before he sees now that it’s perfect

mcgonagall proceeds to turn to draco

‘and i know you want to come back to study. this way you’re both there and you’re both doing what you want’

she mostly wants them to come back bc she thinks they deserve one last chance to be children and learn silly spells and have feasts and not be the adults they were forced to be 

they both agree almost instantly 

then they’re going to hogwarts and they’re in a train compartment together

and then they’re at the feast and draco keeps batting his eyelashes at harry from the eighth year table and mcgonagall can see how this was a bad idea 

and then they’re in class and everyone respects harry as a teacher - even his own classmates - bc somehow he just fits 

and if at night draco sleeps in harry’s teacher quarters instead of the eighth year dorm then no one needs to know 

(everyone totally does but no one says anything)

and then it’s the winter holidays and they’re lying in bed together, harry petting draco’s wings (they’re always there lately and madam pomfrey tells them it’s permanent now that draco’s finally with his mate and feels safe)

and he brings up the subject of getting their own place

draco kisses him before he can even finish the question

before eighth year is over they’re already looking at flats and houses 

now that the war isn’t as fresh in everyone’s minds reporters are constantly bothering harry or draco or hermione or ron 

harry’s taken the worst of it obviously 

they never leave him alone 

and so it’s hard to find a house bc every realtor wants to be the one to sell to harry potter and his boyfriend 

so eventually they get tired of it and go have lunch in muggle london (after placing a strong disillusionment charm on draco’s wings) 

‘harry’

‘hmmm?’

‘why not here?’

‘what?’

‘why not here? why don’t we find a flat here? in muggle london. no one will bother us. we can connect the chimney to the floo network.’

harry stares at draco for a whole two seconds and then kisses him senseless

‘i love you’

looking for apartments in muggle london is much easier than in magical london 

it takes them a few weekends but finally they find one they’re both in love with

it’s a small one bedroom apartment on the top floor of an apartment building that has huge windows - draco needs those, bc he’s developed a deep fear of the dark and small rooms bc he feels too much like he’s in the dungeons at the manor again - and a lot of sunlight and it admits pets and a big kitchen - draco’s hopeless cooking but he’s been trying to learn and harry loves to watch the pinch of his eyebrows and mouth along to the muggle on the telly as she dictates the recipe - and it’s small and it needs some work but it’s theirs and harry could just cry 

they move in as soon as eighth year is over 

draco becomes a model for parvati patil’s clothing line 

harry’s not at all surprised

his boyfriend’s fucking gorgeous 

he makes sure to tell that to anyone who has the bad luck to sit next to him in the fashion shows he attends for draco

harry continues to teach at hogwarts 

after all of two months of living together harry proposes 

draco says yes ofc

they get married

and now harry can say ‘that’s my husband’ excitedly whenever he goes to one of the fashion shows draco’s modeling in 

and then time passes and they’re every bit as happy as they ever were

and ofc it’s not perfect

harry still has nightmares

so does draco

draco still has days where he hands harry a coat and then kicks him out the door bc he needs time alone 

harry still has nights he wakes up with a curse on his lips and his wand pointed at the wall 

but they’re together, and they’re happy bc it’s what they fucking deserve

---------------------------------------------

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[deatthblooms]

— secrecy flows through you, a different kind of blood.

KEDAR WILLIAMS-STIRLING? No, that’s actually RAPHAEL BROWN-PATIL from universe #8. You know, the child of LAVENDER BROWN and PARVATI PATIL? Only 23 years old, this SLYTHERIN alumni works as KEEPER FOR PUDDLEMERE UNITED. HE identifies as CISMALE and is a PUREBLOOD who is known to be VAIN, UNRULY, and PRIDEFUL but also VERSATILE, OUTGOING, and DETERMINED.

PARALLELS: tony stark (marvel comics), oberyn martell (game of thrones), connor walsh (how to get away with murder), johnny storm (marvel comics), raven reyes (the 100), gina linetti (brooklyn nine nine), will byers (stranger things), freddie mcclair (skins), vanya hargreeves (the umbrella academy)

WARNINGS: light gore, blood, werewolf attack, hospital mention, depression

BEFORE

born to war heroes, rafe was no stranger to the scars they left behind. it came as a surprise to no one that lavender and parvati would make warm and supportive parents. raphael can’t remember not feeling loved, he never felt alone because two strong women were always standing behind him, ready to catch him and help him back onto his feet. mistakes were turned into lessons and rafe became a quick learner. 

that wasn’t to say their family was perfect. raphael butted heads with his sisters plenty, especially penny. and while his mothers had become stronger from surviving a war, it had left them both scarred, physically for lavender. 

raphael had been terrified of werewolves ever since he was a child. they were the one thing that had been able to hurt someone who in his eyes, was unstoppable. if werewolves could have lavender up at night crying while parvati soothes her after another nightmare, plaguing her even in her dreams, what sort of horrors could a werewolf do to him?

if you asked lavender and parvati what raphael was like as a boy, they’d tell you that he was always smiling, always joking, making everyone laugh, that he was so full of joy that it spilled out into the room and infected everyone else.

rafe had grown up excited to finally go to hogwarts, to learn as much as he could, experience as much as he could. he had been convinced he would be sorted into gryffindor like his mother’s, but instead the second brown-patil to enter hogwart's halls was sorted into slytherin. rafe's initial reaction was severe disappointment but he was quickly made to feel welcome and at home in the house of ambition, his resentment barely lasted a day.

raphael was a bright boy, he didn't find himself having to study awfully hard to get solid grades, which gave him more time to focus on something that would become his biggest passion: quidditch. rafe had been talented from the getgo but it didn't mean he got out of vigorous training. by his third year he had made it as the keeper for slytherin and was a member of the team up until the beginning of his seventh year.

his school career had been a breeze for the first six years, as each year passed there were things he was proud of, making the team, improving his flying, finally getting an outstanding in herbology. but at the end of his seventh year rafe can't say he's doing anything he's proud of. 

(VIOLENCE, MILD GORE, WEREWOLF TW) it started as a stupid dare among friends, raphael had had a few drinks and he willingly wanders into the forbidden forest, feeling a little too invincible. that's when he's attacked in the dark by a werewolf. rafe barely remembers the incident, it happened in a flash of claws and blood and screaming. rafe doesn't even remember casting wandless magic to scare the beast away before he ran back to his friends. when he emerges from the tree line, he's staggering, his chest stained red, the adrenaline stops and so does his body. his friends rush him to the hospital wing, screaming and crying and saying they have no idea what happened. madam pomfrey peels back his school shirt, now stained dark red and saturated with blood, to reveal four deep gashes spanning from the base of his neck and his right shoulder to the bottom left of his rib cage. the only reason madam pomfrey discloses the nature of the scratches because it's the early hours of the morning and no one else in the infirmary is awake. "potter, find the headmaster immediately, there's a werewolf on school grounds." (TW END)

the ordeal blows over, the werewolf wasn't seen again and it's brushed under the rug. except now rafe had to live with the fact that at ever my full moon, he would transform into the beast from his nightmares, the one he thought was under his bed as a child, was now looking back at him in the mirror. he was helped by the teachers immensely, he was given wolfsbane every month, a locked room to wait it out, and discretion. but his mental state suffered terribly, the days leading up to the full moon he was irritable and on edge through his fear of hurting someone.

and then there was the hurdle of telling his mum's. something he still hasn't managed to do till this day. every time he's tried to look his mother's in the eye and confess to an unforgivable mistake, he can't go through with it. he can't bare to see the hurt in lavenders eyes when she finds out her son is the same as the beast who left her scarred. not even being able to tell maggie solidified in his mind the reason he wasn't sorted into gryffindor: he's a coward.

the rest of his seventh year is a spiral downwards, he falls into a depression, stops turning up to practice, grade's drop dramatically. the once charming keeper turns into a recluse. but eventually it passes and he adapts to his condition. not in time to pass his seventh year, but as the next september comes around, he's buried his fears deep down and throws himself back into school. he makes the team again, his grades back up to normal, seemingly having made a recovery from quidditch accident, as the headmaster had spun it. what the headmaster didn't know was that rafe never told his mother's the real reason and rafe might have been a little calculating to make sure his lies held up for the rest of the year. to his mother and sister's, rafe had a quidditch accident and it left him scared to get back on a broom.

he'd just turned 20 when he made puddlemere united's keeper, the team rekindled some old friendships, leading him to share a house with three of the people he holds most dear. raphael can be unapologetically himself in the house, there's no secrets, no fear, they all help him and care for him despite something that still gives him nightmares and for that, he admires each of his housemates.

but if you asked lavender and parvati what raphael was like now, they’d tell you that they fear he was too generous with the joy he spread as a child, because their son isn’t as whole as he used to be, but if somethings wrong, he’d tell them. right? 

AFTER

raphael doesn't feel awfully affected by the clash other than acquiring a new housemate. he wasn't remotely opposed to the idea of letting james' cousin from another universe crash on their couch, but it took some getting used to. from learning about the world fred came from, raphael is cautious of who he meets, not wanting to shake hands with a death eater in any shape or form. he'd never voice it, but the only instance he wouldn't feel bad hurting someone as a wolf would be if he hurt the people who hurt his mums.  

MORE

he vain as fuck. spends 2 hours getting ready, owns a shocking amount of clothes especially after getting a quidditch salary. 

also the biggest flirt known to man? bisexual as hell, will swing anyone's way, he's smooth. 

has a lot of shame about being a werewolf.

after the attack, he sleeps around a fraction of what he used to, scared of being judged for his scars but it hasn’t stopped him flirting.

colour he has the most of in his wardrobe? baby pink. we're not afraid of femininity in the brown-patil house.

his boggart is a werewolf. yes u heard me right.

his magic has always been elegant, charms was a class he passed without much effort because he found himself mastering them easily. his first signs of magic were when he changed the colours of every bit of clothing he owned. his spells are precise and very eye catching. 

STATS PAGE 

[aproblematicpanda]

Harry Potter? For the in-depth fandom ask

Hi thank you! ♥ I will use the books for my answers, since I didn’t really like most of the movies. I apologize if I mix up some of the characters, I’ve only read the books in my native language so I will have to google for some of the names in English. :’D

Top 5 favorite characters: Minerva McGonagall, Luna Lovegood, Fred & George Weasley, Neville Longbottom, Ginny Weasley. Other characters you like: The golden trio obviously, Molly, Dobby, Draco Malfoy, ... There are not a lot of characters I dislike. Least favourite characters: Umbridge, for obvious reasons. Otps: Hermione and Ron. Notps: I don’t think I have any? I’m not very invested in shipping when it comes to the HP fandom, I pretty much keep an open mind to everything? Except incest but I’ve never seen anyone ship anything like that, so. Favourite friendships: Harry, Ron and Hermione, obviously, and I also really liked Fren, George and Lee, and Lavender and Parvati. Favourite family: The Weasleys Favourite episodes: / Favourite book:  Prisoner of Azkaban is probably my favorite book. Favourite quotes:  "If you want to know what a man’s like, take a good look at how he treats his inferiors, not his equals." "I solemnly swear I am up to no good." "But you know, happiness can be found even in the darkest of times, if one only remembers to turn on the light." "Harry witnessed Professor McGonagall walking right past Peeves who was determinedly loosening a crystal chandelier and could have sworn he heard her tell the poltergeist out of the corner of her mouth, 'It unscrews the other way.’" "There is no need to call me ‘sir,’ Professor." And probably more. The books have so many amazing scenes, funny, inspirational, sad, hopeful, ... It was really hard to pick just a few. Best musical moment: / Moment that made you fangirl the hardest: Ehh... I mean, obviously I was rooting for Harry and the ending was a satisfying one, just like every other time Harry beat Voldemort, but the moment that made me fangirl the hardest would probably be Hermione punching Draco in the face. xD When it really disappointed you: The only truly disappointing thing about the book is how House-Elves are treated. Other than that, the only time I’m disappoint is literally every time JK Rowling decides it’s a good idea to open her mouth. Saddest moment: The moment Harry breaks down in Dumbledore’s chambers after Sirius dies gives me chills every. damn. time I reread the book. Most well done character death: Oh god, this is so hard because most of the deaths really hit me hard Favourite guest star: / Favourite cast member: / Character you wish was still alive: Honestly? Probably Hedwig. Maybe Fred. One thing you hope really happens: That JK Rowling’s Twitter account is banned so she doesn’t have a damn platform anymore. Most shocking twist:  When did you start reading: I think the first three books were already out when I started to read them. My classmates kept telling me to do it and I was in that annoying phase where I refused to dive into anything that was this massively popular - but I’m glad I eventually caved because if I hadn’t, I wouldn’t have grown up in this fandom and that means I would’ve had an entirely different experience. Now I can still say I grew up with the books and I’m glad I did. Best animal/creature: I’m a gigantic sucker for unicorns and I’m not sorry about it. xD Favourite location: I mean, Hogwarts is amazing, the descriptions of the castle never get old. Trope you wish they would stop using: Ehh... I honestly don’t know? One thing this book does better than others: I love how this show has such an inspired, dedicated, creative fanbase. The amount of HP related art, fanfiction, headcanons, ... out there is mindblowing. I’ve never quite seen that happen in any other fandom and it’s part of why I love this one as much as I do. Like how people can take a character that’s mentioned maybe a couple of times in the books and they create so much content for them to the point where I’ve actively had to stop myself from writing an answer to this questions because the answer isn’t canon, that’s admirable. Funniest moments: Fred and George wrecking havoc on Umbridge and finally leaving the castle after they get caught is without a doubt the funniest scene I can think of. Couple you would like to see: Like I said, I was never really into shipping anyone with anyone. I enjoy quite a lot of fanon ships I see on Tumblr, though. Actor/Actress you want to join the cast: / Favourite outfit: Every outfit I can think of is influenced by the movies so I don’t really have an answer to this. I would’ve loved to see Hermione’s dress to the Yule Ball, though, and the Patil sisters’. Oh, and Fleur’s wedding dress. Favourite item: The Marauder’s map. Do you own anything related to this show: No. What house/team/group/friendship group/family/race etc would you be in: I’m a Slytherin. Most boring plotline: I can’t think of anything. The passage that bores me the most is the one where the Minister of Magic meets the Muggle Prime Minister but that’s not a plotline. I guess everything is just so well thought of, everything that’s in the books in there for a reason and I wouldn’t cut anything out of it. Most laughably bad moment: As much as I dislike JK Rowling, she wrote seven brilliant books. I can’t think of a bad moment. There are plot holes, sure, and things that really fucking bug me, but no laughably bad moments. At least, not any that I can think of right now. The fact that she gave Cho Chang two last names as a name is a bad moment, though - but it’s not laughably. It’s just more proof that JK Rowling is a terrible person. Best flashback/flashfoward if any: The memories Snape shows to Harry, and the ones they both get to see of each other during their Occlumency lessons. Most layered character: I love the character development Ron goes through. Most one dimensional character: Ehh. There were a lot of important characters so it makes sense that not all of them got the layers they deserved. Right now nobody who’s relevant to the plot comes to mind as an answer? Scariest moment: Well, when Harry and Dumbledore came back from finding the fake Horcrux, that had me scared. Not for their lives (because it was obvious that Harry would live and Dumbledore would die) but because it felt like all of Dumbledore’s plans would be ruined so that’d probably be the scariest moment for me? Grossest moment: Ehh... I would probably throw up if I had witnessed Nagini sliding out of Bathilda’s dead body so I’m gonna go with that one, that must’ve been horrifying for Harry, especially because he spares Hermione the details. Best looking male: Well the books name Cedric Diggory as the most attractive one, so... Let’s go with that one then?  Best looking female: Fleur and Ginny Who you’re crushing on (if any): I would probably be all over Ginny if I had gone to Hogwarts. Favourite cast moment: / Favourite transportation: A Thestral! Most beautiful scene (scenery/shot wise): I really love the descriptions of Hogwarts. Unanswered question/continuity issue/plot error that bugs you: Oh god, so. many. Off the top of my head, here we go. 1. The carriages that bring the students back to the train station are mentioned specifically at the end of the fourth book and yet Harry can’t see the Thestrals until the beginning of the fifth book. 2. In what world are the Weasleys poor? Hermione specifically mentions in the seventh book that you can increase the quantity of food and Harry gets more wine for Slughorn and Hagrid with a spell in the sixth book, so no wizard or witch would have to spend any money on food, ever. And like with clothes and books and everything, why buy multiple ones? Just buy one and then duplicate it like when Hermione did it with the medallion? 3. Harry randomly remembering the phone number to get into the Ministry of Magic after almost an entire year, having heard them once: please. I started rereading the fifth book like two months ago for the gazillionth time and I already don’t remember them anymore. 4. Supposedly there’s a curse on the position as the DADA professor ever since Voldemort asked for the job, so there’s a new teacher every year, but Professor Quirrel is introduced in a way that makes it seem as if he has been teaching there for quite a while and other students (like Fred and George) treat him as such - seems to me like the curse was only activated with Harry coming to Hogwarts but that’s not what’s canon. 5. Voldemort conveniently waiting for the end of the school year each year to make his move. 6. The school year somehow always starts on a Monday and the Hogwarts express always leaves on September 1 which would mean that September 1 was a Sunday for seven years in a row. 7. Why, WHY, would they use feathers and parchment? What the hell is wrong with pen and paper? Or things like torches, when electricity has been a thing since forever? And the same goes for using owls to send letters, or the memos that are used in the Ministry of Magic: just text or e-mail, dudes. One sloppy ‘this doesn’t work here because there’s too much magic in the air’ just doesn’t cut it for me, especially because Harry does wear a watch, for instance. I probably have more but this is all I can come up with right now. xD Best promo: My childhood best friend bugging me about the books until I finally caved and started to read them. xD At what point did you fall in love with this show/book: Literally the first chapter.

Send me a show/fandom and I’ll answer

[coteriesrp]

– ADDY HAS BEEN ACCEPTED WITH DIVYA (AS NEELAM GILL)! CONGRATULATIONS!

You really went above and beyond on the character extras, holy shit. The app stands incredibly well on its own, providing a crystal clear image of your take on the character, your beautiful writing style, and nailing the vibe I had in mind absolutely perfectly; and then the extra work you did on establishing a background for her that really grounds her in the world provides such a tasty icing on top. Really looking forward to how much she and Dizzy are gonna get on each others’ nerves.

         — KIT

I love your writing, first off. It's the first thing I noticed, reading your application.  I was immediately taken by your portrayal of Divya, hard and ambitious and as Ventrue as Ventrue can be, pre- and post-Embrace. But the bit that really, really caught me was: "She still remembers the warmth of his blood staining her palms and fingers, and the way he tasted so foul. One thing became clear – her curated palate had no taste for the greedy." Do I really need to say ANYTHING beyond that? I'll just let your writing there stand on its own.

        — GHOST

You’ll be sent a link to our Discord shortly and have 24 hours to accept the invite or your role will be reopened.

out of character info.

ALIAS › addy

PRONOUNS › she/her

AGE › 23

TIMEZONE › gmt -6

in character info.

CHARACTER › divya patil

GENDER & PRONOUNS › cis woman ; she/her

APPARENT AGE › twenty-five years old

DISCIPLINE › auspex

DEMEANOUR ›

The unbridled thirst for power that courses through her veins is an unparalleled hunger; it permeates the very core of her being, multiplying into each cell, each nucleus, until the buzzing desire to control anything within her grasp consumes her in its ravenous flames. Her obsession with the concept of perfection has yielded a woman who abhors error in any form; those who have been cursed with the misfortune of her extended company are forced to reckon with her nit-picking, for Divya would never tolerate anything less than first-rate results. She’s quick to criticize, quick to undermine anyone who dares to stand before her. A cold, glacial exterior keeps her vulnerabilities locked tightly within. A part of Divya is foolish enough to believe that forcibly tearing her demons into small, bite-sized pieces and pushing them into the deepest, darkest crevices of her untouched mind may take away her weaknesses altogether. She speaks with hardened resolve, clinical and business-like at certain times & haughty and enraged at others. Her easily-ignited temper is the product of years of trauma, abuse, and mental degradation. Divya is and always will be the embodiment of power – from the way she holds her head high to the corruption she breeds in her heart.

JOINING THE COTERIE ›

Divya’s very existence has always hinged on the ability to step on others to lift herself up from her own ashes; as the daughter of one of New York’s most powerful influences perched upon the throne of Wall Street, she learned quickly that any and every man around her would come for blood if it mean subjugating her into nothing. Her aching desire to prove herself fostered the urge to join ranks with the most powerful forces around her. She often gravitated towards royal-esque entities, hoping to glean even the slightest bit of their golden-hued aura for herself – so to be offered the prestigious opportunity to join the ranks of generational power un her unlife felt almost like a reward for her trauma. To be bestowed with this chance – this gift… it felt right. Like this had been her destiny all along. She joined with arms outstretched, unbeating heart twisting at the ability to finally embrace a coterie that fitted her ideals of absolute perfection.

(UN)LIFE’S PHILOSOPHY ›

Her transition into the life of the Kindred allowed Divya to embrace the ravenous hunger that had always gnawed at the pit of her stomach; to be able to fully embody the petulant desire to tower high above others was a natural inclination that seized her almost immediately. Christened by the Clan Ventrue, Divya and her refined palate find a certain level of carnal pleasure in using the dimwitted Kine to her advantage. She had always been a bit exclusionary in her mortalhood – and now, as one of the undead, it feels only natural that she view vessels as nothing more than toys, devices, and forms of nutrition rather than as sentient, separate viewings. She views her new unlife as a transition for bigger and better things. The ability to pervade the senses, thoughts, and perceptions of the Kine bring her much joy, an adrenaline-induced power trip often following suit. Her philosophy surrounding her new state of being is what it had been when she had been a weaker, sniveling human fool – become greater than anything anything anyone has ever seen and then some.

THOUGHTS ON HUMANITY ›

Foolish, dimwitted sheep; Divya views nothing more disdainfully than she does her own time as one of the Kine. Humans had always been so painfully ignorant of their own capabilities, slaving away to graves of their own making – and now that Divya has been reborn as one of the Kindred, she sees them for what humanity truly is. A plague. Her archaic beliefs are abnormal for someone born in such modern society, but they linger nonetheless, dwelling in the hollows of her black heart until all she can see in humans is whether they are worthy of her finicky palate or would be better off left dead.

LIFE EVENTS ( tw: physical abuse. ) ›

manhattan, new york city, ny / 2013 – She was 23 years old; under her belt was a masters in business analytics from Columbia University. Divya had foolishly thought that such a fleeting accomplishment would earn her father’s good favor – but she learned quickly that not even exemplar grades and a prestigious institution would be enough to prove that she was worth her salt. She stood idly in the entryway to the large, sprawling penthouse her father called home, perfectly-manicured fingernails digging ever so slightly into the smooth surface of her iPhone. Dark hues watched with thinly-veiled anticipation as her father’s large figure paced intermittently in the wide living room. There was an air of impending doom sinking deep into her skin, burrowing into her bones and making a home in her marrow – but then again, it always seemed as if a deep sense of foreboding followed her wherever she went. All Divya had asked was whether her father had decided to appoint her to the position of CFO or not, as he had promised he would upon the completion of her degree. She had spoken calmly, measured tone far from minced, and had her head held high. Such an act, however, had been easily misconstrued as defiance. Heresy. She clenched her teeth together tightly as her father came to an abrupt halt. Her heart raced angrily in her chest, beating wildly against the confines of her ribcage, as she watched him turn then slowly make his way over to her. Divya didn’t dare speak; if she wanted her moment of glory, wanted her moment of appreciation, she would have to bide her time. When she looks into her father’s eyes, though, she sees nothing akin to pride. Instead, there was a look of disappointed rage. The fire lighting up her insides dimmed and before she could part her lips to ask what concerned him, his hand came sharply down against her cheek. Head snapped to the side and the dull throb of angry pain singing her face was nothing compared to the shame coiled deep in the pit of her stomach. She lowered her gaze, swallowing back the protest balancing at the tip of her tongue. “Never ask me again for something outside of your league,” her father warned, baritone growl low and menacing. “When you finally show promise worthy of anything more than a lowly intern position, then I will consider it. You think your Masters makes you any more qualified? Please.” His patronizing scoff crawled under her skin and twisted her insides. “If you want power, you’ll have to work harder than that.”

brooklyn, new york city, ny / 2016 – Two years of fighting tooth and nail for every promotion, every acknowledgment, every little success left Divya with jaded disgust regarding every little surrounding her; having every move she made analyzed so relentlessly by the tyrant who helped birth her proved to push Divya to maddening extremes. She had successfully taken on the role of CFO of her father’s company, ousting each and every person that dared to gaze upon her for a fraction too long – and her agonizing temperament left her with few friends and far too many enemies. She was unwavering, a beacon of pure mental fortitude – and soon enough, her name became associated with the harbinger of figurative death. Women like her were never meant to be dainty. She was as jagged as a blade, sharpened teeth ready to destroy anything that came too close… and such a tenacious attitude won the favor of her soon to be sire. A chameleon Kindred from the Ventrue Clan had discovered her blazing flame of potential like a diamond in the ruff, spotting her at a Fundraising Gala with the astute sharpness of a hawk. When he approached her, Divya immediately fell into the dangerous habit of sizing up her supposed prey – though little did she realize that the man before her was an apex predator to the nth degree. It was not a sordid love affair nor was it anything romantic in the slightest; the bond Divya developed with her future sire was one of mentor and mentee. She learned how to control her surroundings in a way that her father never could – and soon, she became filled with the thirst for more, to become so much stronger than she already was. The initiation into her unlife came both suddenly and slowly. The culmination of her sessions with her sire came in the form of a singular offer – would Divya like to become the strongest there ever was? It felt rhetorical; she had laughed at first before finally, she said – “Of course I do.” It was the clarity of her voice that won her sire’s confidence. She would make for a strong Kindred. The Embrace and her sire’s careful protection produced a fledgling with stone-faced potential. She learned the ways of her discipline carefully and diligently until she was able to take on her most coveted task – to take out the man that had turned her into the monster she was today. One year after her Embrace, her Sire made it clear that she was ready for her Becoming. But to prove herself one more time, Divya had to embody her most carnal desire. When she slipped into her father’s penthouse, the man was sleeping soundly in his bed. She stood idly at his bedside, head cocked and dark hues intent. When careful fingers slowly drew the blankets back, he stirred with a tired groan. It was the last sound he made before Divya let the Beast spill free, unbridled and fueled by rage. She still remembers the warmth of his blood staining her palms and fingers, and the way he tasted so foul. One thing became clear – her curated palate had no taste for the greedy.

EXPANDING CONNECTIONS ›

dizzy / Vapid, air-headed behavior incites the most ragged of violences from within Divya’s core; she had never taken kindly to those who take everything they have for granted and Dizzy’s painful bubbliness easily falls under this category. Perhaps, though, Divya’s obvious distaste for the girl stems from a place of vague jealousy. What is it like, to live so freely and free of shackled chains binding one’s ankles? Will she ever know, or will she always be a slave to her own work ethic? She has not a clue and perhaps that is exactly why Dizzy’s dizzying personality pulls at Divya’s desire to snap uncontrollably at the drop of a hat. Maybe one day – she can learn from the other. But only when the tension is finally relieved from her bones.

harel / Respect is not a sensation Divya gives out freely; to earn her respect is a game of whether you can bear the brunt of her heavy gaze or not – but somehow, Harel has managed to tear down the expectations Divya so often holds. Their quietude and ability to bear what feels heavier than humanly – or Kindred-ly – possible puts her in a state of silent awe. She dares not admit this, though, because that would be weakness. Instead, she studies them suspiciously in hopes of one day besting them. It does not sit well with her to feel so small and meager compared to another and so, she persists. Uncomfortable, begrudging respect has left her with no words to say.

angel / Rapt attention has always so childish – but it’s a sensation that cannot be helped when her eyes fall upon Angel. Their strange ways interest her and she can’t help but feel as if they are the only being in this coterie that understands her in a way beyond superficial. She chides herself often on the fact that perhaps her fascination is childish – like a schoolgirl crush – but it does little to quell the fact that the lingering desire to treat Angel not only with respect, but as an equal, continues.

miscellaneous info.

EXTRAS ›

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LAST WORD ›

hewo! i hope you guys enjoy reading this application! only thing i wanted to ask if you guys are open to any alternate fcs? an idea i had is neelam gill! it’s totally oaky though if you’d prefer keeping the current fc over an alternate! just thought i’d ask! thank you guys!

[dewitty1]

Chapters: 8/8 Fandom: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling Rating: Explicit Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter, Hermione Granger/Ron Weasley, Ginny Weasley/Blaise Zabini Characters: Harry Potter, Draco Malfoy, Hermione Granger, Ron Weasley, Blaise Zabini, Ginny Weasley, Charlie Weasley, Padma Patil, James Sirius Potter, Albus Severus Potter, Lily Luna Potter, Scorpius Malfoy, Narcissa Malfoy, Pansy Parkinson Additional Tags: Harry Potter Epilogue Compliant, Blended family, Acquaintances to Friends to Lovers, Pansexual Harry Potter, Gay Draco Malfoy, Smut, Frottage, Anal Sex, Harry-centric, POC Harry Potter, Slow Burn, Past Harry Potter/Ginny Weasley, Past Astoria Greengrass/Draco Malfoy, Still Married, Marriage of Convenience, Relationship of Convenience, Unconventional Families, Alcohol Consumption by Adults, brief Harry/OMC - Freeform, Brief Draco/OMC, Consensual Aphrodisiac Use, Brief Scene of Racism/Racist Language, coming to terms with sexuality, Healthy Relationships, Hermione Granger & Draco Malfoy Friendship, Harry Potter & Blaise Zabini Friendship, Harry/Draco Big Bang 2018, Occasional Law/Politics Discussion, Community: harrydracobang, Hand Jobs Summary:

Harry’s happy with his life twenty-two years later. He has his job as the Head of the DMLE (albeit with a bit too much bureaucratic nonsense for his tastes), his not-really wife (and her incorrigibly charming shit of a boyfriend), and his three children (plus Scorpius Malfoy, who’s somehow become the fourth child in their brood). The only thing that’s missing is a partner, though not for a lack of trying on his part. However, the assignment of one case to Barrister Draco Malfoy – a polite and cordial acquaintance on the peripheral of Harry’s life – leads to a deep friendship and the slow realisation that the partner he’s been waiting his whole life for has been standing right in front of him all along.

Excerpt:

Draco eyes him, the grey orbs narrowed in curiosity and wariness, so Harry simply goes for it with his usual aplomb: “My children adore you.”  Draco’s eyes widen slightly, the wariness all but disappearing at the clearly unexpected start, but Harry just evenly continues, “James and Lily both have always appreciated cleverness and adventure, so they’re quite fond of you.  Plus you’re the only one besides Gin that’ll braid Lily’s hair, so that tickles her to death.  As for Albus, well, it’s obvious that he skips right past adoring you into love – he thinks of you as a second father, honestly, and I can see why.  You’re brilliant with him, indulging him when he needs to be indulged, complimenting him when he needs to be complimented, and nipping any rule breaking or other issues in the bud before they can get him into trouble or send him down the wrong path.”

Harry sighs, taking a conservative sip of his wine and letting the subtle hint of honey roll across his tongue, before he continues, “And then there’s everyone else.  Gin is more than friendly with you, and Blaise is your best friend.  You’ve been attached at the hip to Hermione since you both went to your law academy together twenty years ago.  Ron even gets on with you in his own way, which I would’ve never imagined back in school.  In fact, the Weasley family as a whole haven’t a problem with you, though I’m sure you’ll never be as chummy with them as you are with me and Gin and Hermione.”

Harry takes a deep breath, trying to get this all out despite wanting to address the realisation that he can see blooming in Draco’s eyes, and says, “You’re one of my best friends.  Everything about you just fits.  You understand me on a fundamental level, and while we chafe each other in a lot of ways, and we bitch back and forth in a way that most people wouldn’t find healthy, you’re like the missing piece.”  Harry lets his lips quirk in a smile, almost shy, and adds, “Doesn’t hurt that you’re incredibly fit.  Always have been really, though I didn’t allow myself to acknowledge it until I was nineteen, for obvious reasons.”

Harry fiddles with the stem of his glass and says, “So, I guess what I’m trying to say is that I quite fancy you, and I’d like to take you to dinner if you’ll have me.  Not tonight, obviously, as I’m still rather stuffed, but...well, soon.”

At the end of his spiel, he just watches Draco process.  He’s still sitting with that same impeccable posture, one hand holding the untouched glass of wine while the other is lightly resting against the armrest.  Most anyone else would see only the impassive, almost calm countenance of the posh Malfoy patriarch, but Harry’s too close to him now to miss the little flickers of emotion that show in his eyes and expressions.  It’s rather hard to pin down any of them, so Harry simply holds his breath, waiting for the final verdict.  It’s really up to Draco here, obviously, and even though Hermione is under the impression that Harry hasn’t a thing to worry about, he’s still inevitably nervous.

After all, he’s seen a lot of friendships break apart due to unrequited feelings, and he does not want that to happen between him and Draco.  Until (if) Draco accepts his invitation, he’ll be a bundle of nerves regardless of Hermione’s words, because even despite the relatively short period of time they’ve been friends (in contrast to the long history of bitter rivals and then polite cordialness) he still doesn’t want to lose this friendship.

To Harry’s surprise – with a small sprinkling of horror for garnish, if he’s honest – Draco rather suddenly stands up, placing his wine on the side table untouched and an unfamiliar expression on his features.  Harry stares up at him, wondering if he’s ruined positively everything because Harry can’t place the emotion on his face, but then Draco says in a remarkably smooth tone, “Bed first; dinner later.”

Harry’s heart thuds heavily in his chest, mouth falling open in a likely unflattering show of shock because what in the hell, and he feels like time has stopped.  After a long moment of just gaping at Draco, who’s looking remarkably confident but has a surprising amount of nervousness in those eyes of his, Harry asks, “Are you sure?”

Draco rolls his eyes with a huff, the tips of his ears pink, and snarks back, “Obviously, you idiot.  I wouldn’t have said it otherwise.”

Well.  Okay then.

Harry stands up himself, placing his own wine glass on the coffee table, and then advances on Draco, heart pounding and his breathing already a tad choppy.  He can feel his hands shaking but it doesn’t stop him from reaching up, cupping Draco’s face and brushing his thumbs along the sharp juts of his cheekbones, eyes flicking back and forth between Draco’s eyes for any hint of unease or wariness.  He only sees anticipation and amusement though, and Harry’s heart flutters with affection.

“Anything you’re not comfortable with?” he asks quietly, needing to get that out of the way before anything happens.  Draco hasn’t talked about that one bloke he took home (Harry can’t remember his name off the top of his head) back in March, and as far as Harry’s aware, Draco’s been celibate since then, so he’s not sure what Draco’s comfortable with.  After all, Draco’s whole realisation of his queerness is fairly new, and Harry will be damned if he oversteps based off his more considerable experience.

“I’ll tell you,” Draco murmurs, hands reaching up to touch Harry’s wrists, the softness of it contrasting to the intensity of his eyes, the deep pool of his anticipation.  His pupils are dilated, half from the rapidly fading light coming through the windows and half from the beginnings of arousal that Harry can see on his face, and he can feel Draco’s breath against his nose.

Harry smiles, nods once, and then slowly tilts his head up, letting his mouth brush against Draco’s own.  It’s a bare touch, just testing the waters a bit to see if this is okay, but Draco lets out a long, lingering exhale through his nose, hands tightening against Harry’s wrists as he steps close enough for their bodies to press flush against each other, and Harry figures that Draco’s totally fine with this, at least.

Harry lets his hands wander to the back of Draco’s hair, digging his fingers into the soft, short blond hair at the back of his scalp as he kisses him with a bit more pressure.  Draco lets go of Harry’s wrists, opting instead to place his palms on Harry’s chest as if he’s feeling his chest move or his heart beat, and responds in kind.  It’s a quiet moment, both of them just exploring this new thing between them as if they’ve got plenty of time to discover each other – which, Harry figures, isn’t too far from the truth.  He quite likes this, just simple, rather tame snogging in the middle of his cosy, familiar Camden flat, full of mutual hope and excitement for the future.  It isn’t like Harry’s not aroused by it, of course, but it’s fair to say that while his blood feels heated and his skin is covered in gooseflesh, he’s not really...well, out of his mind with it.

That is, until they open their mouths in simultaneous cohesion, and their tongues touch.

The only warning Harry gets is a sharp inhale and the delicious bite of short, groomed fingernails digging through the thin fabric of his shirt before Draco surges forward, like the dam’s broken and he can’t really stop the instinctive urge for more.  Harry finds himself being pushed back, suddenly being kissed within an inch of his life – and fuck Draco knows what he’s doing with that mouth of his – as his back hits the wall separating the sitting room from the kitchen.  Now Harry feels too hot in his skin, that tongue doing wicked things in his mouth and those glorious, elegant fingers edging down to the hem of his shirt, lightly sweeping under it to touch the warm skin of Harry’s stomach.

He doesn’t even get the opportunity to respond in kind, because they separate for breath and Draco nuzzles down into Harry’s neck, pressing open-mouthed kisses intermixed with the drag of his teeth against his skin, and all Harry can do is feel, breath coming out in harsh gasps and his fingers clutching mindlessly in Draco’s hair to keep him in place.  

He can feel his hips aimlessly pushing into Draco’s thigh, which is nestled in between Harry’s legs, and his prick is steadily growing against the expanse of lean muscle, increasingly achy and becoming steadily confined in its denim and cotton trappings.

And Draco himself is letting out near-constant sounds, something between a groan and a whimper, low and rough and enough to send a solid rush of arousal to the heavy heat between Harry’s thighs.  Harry can feel Draco’s own prick growing more rigid against Harry’s hip, and it’s intoxicating, this rush of almost easy passion between them, comfortable and right.  He suddenly can’t take the separation anymore and he pulls Draco’s face up, pushing their mouths together in a heated, intense glide of tongues and teeth as he forces his hands away from Draco’s hair, letting them trail down the bumps of Draco’s spine.  When he reaches the bottom hem, he brings his hands to the sharp bones of Draco’s hips through his trousers, caressing them with his thumbs before he attacks the buttons of his shirt.  It makes Draco exhale shakily, and then they’re mutually trying to take off each other’s shirts, Draco having a much easier time with it considering Harry avoids buttons like the plague.

He disconnects for a moment so the apparently offending fabric can be pulled over his head, and then he returns to the buttons, eventually managing to unclasp all of them.  He’s too impatient to yank it off him though, opting instead to just wrap his arms around Draco’s middle and pull them flush together, the warmth of their bare skin delicious and soothing all at once.  He tears his mouth away to finally return the favour, dragging his lips against the smooth skin on Draco’s throat and tasting salt and man, and gods he’s needs Draco on a bed right-fucking-now.

He pushes, Draco stumbling a bit from the suddenness but thankfully keeping his balance thanks to his own natural grace as well as Harry’s hands on his ribs, and Harry gets out in a rough whisper, “Bedroom, now.”