#featuring

[cquity]

alice & frank

a wide smile spread across her rosy red lips as she glanced at her roommate. “now don’t you just look handsome.” she complimented the other, if her smile could grow any wider it would. “so what’s on your mind, what should we do first?” alice questioned, offering the other her hand. “i’m not sure if dancing first is the solution, or if we should eat the good food before it’s all taken.” 

@papcrrings​

[adorcble]

she'd loved him for as long as she could remember - she never thought that she'd have the opportunity nor the courage to act of her feelings, to explore the relationship she yearned for. that all changed though when he has kissed her last night. she knocked on his bedroom door - subconsciously holding her breath as she waited for him to answer. "frank? are you there?"

@gctawaygirl

[regheart]

Frank Longbottom and an extra of James Potter!

frank's wand was passed on to his son, but neville was never the wizard he was meant to be under his father's shadow. going from that, i like to imagine his wand would have been made of ash, the same wood as ron's hand me down wand, which caused him similar problems. it's a wood for someone brave and stubborn, but never arrogant, and a dragon heartstring core would also fit the powerful magic expected from an auror. his patronus is a gibbon because i like monkeys and as most primates they are clever, social, a little territorial and mate for long periods. he is, of course, a gryffindor

i think people usually write him either as slightly more confident neville (but just as soft and a plant lover) or james' role model (and quidditch player for some reason), but i always like to think that there was some true in how much augusta gloats about him: he was intelligent, brave, kind, confident. he was a good auror and he could be ruthless when he had to, but he was also a loving husband and father

and he and james have two important traits in common 1 ) momma's boy 2) wife guy

[moonstruckme]

poly!marauders x drunk!reader at a party and reader needy but they don’t want to help reader because they don’t want to do anything when reader basically unconscious of what’s happening because reader is drunk. So they try to explain to reader that they will gladly take care of them after they get better and go to bed. Thank you!

Thanks for requesting!

cw: alcohol, explicit themes/language (? like no smut just want of smut haha)

poly!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 1k words

At some point, your boyfriends had evidently decided that you’re not to be let out of sight. You’ve tried to go get another drink on several occasions, but no matter who you talk to, you always seem to end up right back on the Longbottom’s settee with one of the three of them. Now they’ve fixed you in Sirius’ lap, his hands spread firm and possessive over the curves of your hips to keep you from running off. Every time he shifts his leg even a little, the heat in your core intensifies. 

Now, he laughs at something someone says, body rumbling like a motor underneath yours, and you nearly whimper. You lean back until your head is on his shoulder. 

“Siri,” you murmur into his ear, “let’s go upstairs.” 

He turns his head into yours, smirking. “We are upstairs, sweet thing.” 

Oh. “Well, can we go somewhere else?” 

“Why, honey?” Sirius’ voice is smooth as always, and now it runs over your skin like velvet. You could almost shiver. “You bored?” 

You lean away just slightly so you can look him in the eyes, keeping your voice low. “I want to fuck you.” 

You watch surprise, then delight, and finally chagrin play one after the other over your boyfriend’s features. He presses a chaste kiss to the skin under your ear, repentant. “I wish I could,” he tells you, breath fanning over your neck and giving you goosebumps, “but it’ll have to wait.” 

“Why?” you whine. 

From the other side of the couch, James sends you an inquisitive look at the sound. Sirius pats your thigh consolingly. “It just will, baby. I’ll take care of you tomorrow, yeah? Let it go for now.” 

You don’t think you will. 

You start squirming in Sirius’ lap, trying to turn around so you can kiss him but not quite coordinated enough to manage it. As it turns out, your fidgeting is enough. His hold tightens on your hips, and he leans forward, murmuring a placid “Behave” into your ear. 

Your cunt pulses. Galvanized by this discovery, you repeat your new tactic, shuffling around on your boyfriend’s lap until his grip is punishing. You can feel the shape of his rings through the material of your bottoms. Sirius growls, and James’ head pops into view once again. 

“What’s going on over there?” he asks. 

“Sirius is being mean to me,” you whine before your boyfriend can get a word in. “He won’t let me move.” 

“I’ll bet.” James eyes Sirius’ flustered countenance, beckoning for you. “Come here, babydoll.” 

Sirius releases you into James hold. You notice him crossing his legs as soon as you’re away. James takes the other boy’s trials as a cautionary tale, tucking you into his side rather than sitting you on his lap. 

“You’re in a troublesome mood, are you?” he asks fondly, rubbing up and down your arm. 

“M’not,” you object. “Sirius was just being mean. I didn’t do anything wrong.” 

“Mhm.” His disbelieving sound purrs through your bones. 

You cozy up to James, looking at him through your lashes. The material of his jumper feels nice against your cheek. “You’ll help me, won’t you?” 

He laughs raucously. You’re about to scowl, but he pecks you on the crown of your head, saving himself. “Just to be clear, are you asking me to fuck you in Alice and Frank’s new house when you’re sloppy drunk?” 

You nod impatiently. 

“Yeah, that’s not happening, darling.” He delivers another kiss to the top of your head to soften the blow. “But I do think I can persuade Remus to take us all home, how about that?” 

Just as quickly as disappointment takes root inside you, hope blooms in its stead. You smile so hugely your ear pops. “Yes, please,” you tell James. 

He squeezes your upper arm affectionately before leaning over, conveying something to Remus with a look that you might normally be able to interpret but currently can’t be bothered to. They’re going to take you home. You know what that means. There, you can fuck louder and nastier and longer than you ever would’ve been able to if you were trying to be discrete in the Longbottom’s spare bedroom. You can’t get there fast enough. 

James stands you up, and there’s a flurry of goodbyes and niceties as your boyfriends shepherd you out the door. Or, you know they must all be with you, but it’s sort of hard to keep track of three people at once. You’re not completely sure whose hand is on your forearm as you descend the steps outside, or who wrestles you into their jacket when you shiver at the brisk night air. You lean contentedly into the loving touches regardless. 

Eventually, it’s Sirius who gets you settled in the backseat, worriedly making Remus take your hands in his so you don’t stick them in the door when he closes it. 

“You don’t think you’re going to be sick?” he asks, and you have the vague impression he’d been upset with you not long ago, but you can’t recall what for and there’s none of that in his demeanor now. He tucks a stray hair behind your ear, lips pursed. “I can run back in and get a bag for the car ride.” 

“No, m’fine.” You sit up extra straight to prove it, cheesing at him. “I’m excited to go home.” 

Sirius snickers and closes your door, but Remus cocks an eyebrow at you. 

“What exactly do you think is going to happen when we get home?” he asks. 

“We’re gonna fuck,” you say brightly. 

In the driver’s seat, James barks out a laugh at your crass language. Remus darts a look his way, looking like he might be biting back a smile of his own. 

“Dove,” he says, “we’re not doing that tonight. We’re going to have some water and go to sleep.” You must look crushed, because his smile turns pitying. “You’re too drunk, sweetheart.” 

“But I want to,” you say brokenly. 

“If you wake up tomorrow feeling better, you can have whatever you want.” 

From the front seat, Sirius says, “I’ve tried to tell her this.” 

You make a plaintive whining sound, and Remus reaches around your face, pulling your head down to rest on his shoulder consolingly. “You’re being so mean to me,” you lament. 

“Oh, I know,” he coos, patting your hair. “M’the worst.”

[fourmoony]

hi, I just wanted to let you know that reading your writing brings me so much comfort and joy. Today, I found out that the person I’ve liked for the longest time has a girlfriend, and it’s been hard to say the least. It also didn’t help that I read an unrequited love blurb featuring remus as soon as I got home 😭 I was just wondering if you’d be willing to write something where the reader assumes that remus doesn’t like her because he seems aloof, but is actually just nervous because he likes her so much. I am so appreciative of you and your beautiful work, as always 🤍

this made me tear up. your words are so kind, and are the push i needed this week to keep writing <3 never in a million years did i think anyone would think this about my writing. thank you.

i'm sorry to hear about your crush; unrequited love is a tricky and heavy feeling. i have no doubt you'll find your person, though. as someone who's had my fair share of heartache, i promise, it won't hurt forever. my friends think i'm crazy because my advice is always to just let it hurt. but one day you'll wake up and you'll have run out of hurt. and you won't even remember what you saw in them, anymore. sending love.

P.S. i suck at writing shy remus so this is more like silent, unreadable remus. idk i'm tired. hope this is okay!

---

remus lupin x f!reader - masterlist 1.2k words

cw - implied self esteem issues, smoking, drinking

Remus' thumping steps carry up the staircase only seconds after you call on him. You're facing the mirror when he arrives in the doorway, hair clasped to the side in one hand, and the other reaching aimlessly for the zip half way down the back of your dress. His eyes find yours over your shoulder in the reflection, a fond smile passing over his features when he steps through the threshold into your room.

"You look lovely." He comments, voice warm and smooth in the way that it always is.

Warm Remus, smooth Remus, so fond and kind, feels like home and everything familiar. His fingers are warm as he tugs gently at the zip, one hand placed on your shoulder for leverage. His touch is gentle, like he's afraid he might break you, and it lingers for only a moment when he's done. You swallow around the lump of want in your throat, the want for it to have lasted longer, the want for him to touch you and have it mean something. It doesn't do any good to want. Because you can't have, and you've had to deal with becoming okay with that fact.

"Thanks, Rem."

He nods, lips curled in on themselves like he wants to say something, a look in his eyes you've never been able to read. He says nothing, and he retreats with the promise to wait on you with the others in the living room. Remus does that a lot - refrains from the things he wants to say, stops himself short. You wish he wouldn't.

You're always wishing, wishing, wishing.

He keeps true to his word. Remus is waiting in the living room with Sirius, James, and a rather flustered looking Frank when you descend the staircase. It's only now you realise how lovely Remus looks in his suit. Partly because of how Sirius is wearing his - like he had a fight with it and lost. Remus stands when you appear, as if on instinct, and takes a step forwards. You smile, eyes catching on Frank who's looking at the clock like it's stealing time from before his very eyes. You suppose, in a way, it is.

"You okay?" You feel the need to ask, hint of a smile playing on your lips.

Frank looks alarmed by your question, a grimace on his face, "She's going to be there, isn't she? She's not going to, like, do a runner? Have you spoke to her today?"

James huffs a laugh, pats Frank on the shoulder rather heavily. The whiskey in his crystal tumbler splashes over the side and onto the rug. "Last I heard, Mary and Marlene had her pinned down in the make up chair, she tried, but they wouldn't let her."

Sirius barks a laugh. Frank scowls. He knows you're kidding. Alice Fortescue has been absolutely smitten for Frank Longbottom since she was thirteen. There's absolutely nothing that could stop her from walking down that aisle, today. Frank knows that as well as you do.

"Not helping." James decides, passes Frank a cigarette.

He mumbles something about not wanting to smoke inside and makes for the door. Remus gives James and Remus a pointed look, "Better make sure he doesn't do a runner, yeah?"

They're quick out the door like they actually believe Frank would ever do something like that. The only place he'd ever run to is Alice. And she'd have his balls for seeing her in her wedding dress before the ceremony. Remus gives you a familiar smile, a knowing smile, a smile he saves for you and you only. It feels like he's in on something you aren't when he smiles like that. Heat crawls up your neck, flowers wrap their way around you rib cage.

"You scrub up well, you know." Is all you manage to say, rather breathless.

Remus rolls his eyes, "I try."

A minute of amused silence, Remus passes you the glass of wine in his hand. The glass is warm from being in his clutch, but you drink from it anyway.

"I thought after the catering disaster this wedding wasn't going to happen." Remus admits, looking out of the living room window at where Frank paces the length of the front path, working his way through his second cigarette. Alice will have your head for allowing such a thing.

You hum a disagreement, eyes roaming Remus' face, it's so soft, so beautifully shaped. You've no idea why he hates his scars so much. They only outline his best qualities. The one over the bridge of his perfectly sloped nose, the one under his beautiful amber eyes, the one along his sharp cheekbones, and your favourite one: the one across his cupids bow, defining his soft, pink lips. It's a shame, really, that Remus Lupin thinks so little of himself. You'd give him the world should he only ask.

"I think nothing can stop a love like that," You murmur, soft and quiet, voice thick with something, "Not even a shoddy caterer."

Remus' eyes leave the front garden, meet with yours in a way that always makes heat explode in your chest. He's too much to look at, sometimes. It physically hurts.

"You always have such a positive outlook on life."

You laugh, shoulders shrugging, "Suppose it's habit."

"From?"

"Keeping you miserable lot from giving up all together?" You offer, smiling over the rim of your wine glass.

Remus laughs, genuine and unashamed. "Tell you what, at our wedding, I promise to be the one keeping everything together, how about that?"

He seems to flinch after that, like he's physically pained by the words coming out of his mouth. You flinch, too. The flowers around your rib cage wilt and pull tighter all in one go, a frown pulling at your lips.

"I wasn't aware we were getting married."

Remus smiles like he's in pain, "Yeah, well, step one would actually be asking you on a date, but I'm a right twat who's mucked all that up."

There's something self deprecating about him. You don't like it. Remus Lupin deserves the world. You'll give him the world. You didn't think he wanted that from you, though. But you smile, gentle and sweet in a way you hope he'll like. It feels like something shifts. Maybe the stars begin to write a story about you both. Maybe the sun stops it's rotation just for a second to watch you both.

The wedding car pulls up outside and Remus, seemingly eager to back away from the situation he's created, slams his own drink down on the table and makes for the door.

"Remus," You call after him, he turns, "I'd marry you."

You offer him a lopsided smile. His eyes search your face for any sign of a joke. He finds none. You hope he understands what you mean.

"How about a date first?" He asks.

You release a breath, a laugh, a smile. It feels like you're floating.

"Sure, yeah. That first."

The front door swings open and Sirius barges his way past Remus, panicked and disheveled, "I've lost the fucking rings!"

Remus sighs, hand in his pocket, hands Sirius the red velvet box, "Here."

You're laughing all the way down the path, shoulder brushing Remus', the start of something new.

[milunalupin]

— tale as old as time

chapter two

chapter one

beast!remus x beauty!reader ★ 1.9k words

The sun had risen in Riquewihr, your father's chickens clucking outside of your small home on the outskirts of town. You tiptoed through the house to not wake up your father, grabbing and putting on your shrug that was laying over a chair. Collecting the book you had to return to Mister Longbottom from the dining room table you left the house, making your way into the town's center. You wrapped your shrug tighter around you as the brisk morning air ran a chill over you, your shoes echoing over the cobblestone path. You always went to the bakery first to make sure you got the freshest bread for you and your father.

"Good morning Madame Potter, you look puzzled." You chuckled as she walked up to the baker's stand.

"I woke up today feeling like I've lost something again, I just don't remember what." the merchant replied, one of her ceramic bowls in her hands as she looked around her space in confusion. She stopped her search to grab a fresh loaf from her basket and handing it over to you in exchange for a few coins. "Where are you off to today, amie?"

"I just finished reading this book, I'm on my way to return it now. It's about two lovers in northern Italy."

"Sounds boring." Lily scrunched her nose with a smile.

You laughed and waved at the red head , turning to walk towards the town's tiny library. You didn't have to look around to know that the other villagers were staring at you. Since arriving, your father and yourself were often pushed aside and looked down upon. Your father was older, and an inventor. Apparently being the two meant that there was something off in your head. And you, a young woman with no intention of finding herself a husband, were promised to a life of loneliness and poor lifestyle. Many assumed that once your father was gone, you would end up on the streets begging for scraps, a woman with nothing with the ability to read, deeming you useless.

Lucky for you, friendship was easily found in Lily Potter and Frank Longbottom, the kind owner of the library. You continued your stroll, the bell tower ringing to indicate the start of the day.

The town square was the most colorful part of the village, stands full of perfectly picked flowers and buckets of the season's harvests. Vendors shouted over the crowd selling textiles and meats, a cleaver just barely missing your arm as you got pushed around the hustle and bustle of the market.

"Y/N!

A self proclaimed war hero. An arrogant hunter who all the women in the village were in love with. Evan Rosier was Riquewihr's most eligible bachelor, his tall stature and aristocratic features apparently the best thing since fresh bread. He wasn't the brawniest, but he held himself such a way that made all the ladies swoon.

"Here, beautiful flowers for a beautiful lady."

You did your best to keep a polite smile on your face as Evan just about shoved the bouquet into your arms. This unfortunately wasn't your first encounter with the hunter, and you feared it wasn't the last. You knew he was considered the most handsome man in the village, but no amount of attractiveness could overlook such a sour and vain personality. Glancing down at the colorful arrangement of flowers in her hands, you nodded towards Evan and took a step back to continue on your stroll.

"Thank you Evan, I'll see you-"

"Dinner, tonight. I'll arrive just before sundown." he smirked,

"Sorry, I'm busy!" You began walking away from him, the flowers slowly getting ripped apart as you squeezed you way through the crowd to further distance from him. Apologies Mister Longbottom, the books will have to wait for another day.

"Not too busy for a gentleman's company, I'm sure!"

You weaved around the market, slipping into an alleyway, holding your breath to hear if he was nearby. As soon as you saw him strut by, you let out a breath of relief, letting yourself leaning against the stone wall for a moment before turning towards the direction of your house.

Surprisingly, Evan wasn't even the worst part of Riquewiher. The villagers weren't as good at whispering as they thought, or perhaps they meant for you to hear all of the mean comments they made daily. You weren't oblivious to the nasty glares and insults. You didn't share the same miniscule mindset as everyone else, and you wished that one day you could leave it all behind and explore what else the world has to offer. Until then, your books will have to do.

With your little cottage just up ahead, the coast felt clear. But of course with your luck, an obnoxious smile and shiny boots stopped you in your path.

"That's a nice book you have there."

"Evan, do you read?"

You stand there looking confused as he let out a boisterous laugh, shaking his head. "What kind of man do you take me for, of course I don't."

"Of course, how silly of me to assume there was anything in that head of yours besides.. well, is there even a brain in there?"

"Ladies mustn't speak like—" You shut the door behind and blew out a breath, relieved to be at home in your safe space. Hearing your father's whistling from the dining room table, you smiled and walked over to him hunched over his newest invention. It seemed to be his favorite project, a small metal replica of what you believed to be your old family home in Paris. Inside sat tiny figurines identical to your father, mother, and a small bundle which had to have been yourself.

"I don't think the villagers like me very much."

"What's not there to like about you? You're beautiful, very smart, and most importantly, you're kind." he sent you a certain look, the side of his mouth twitching up. "Sort of like someone I used to know."

Your eyes softened at his response. It warmed your heart to know that no matter how much time went on since your mother's passing, his love for her never faded.

Your father gives you a sympathetic smile, coming over to kiss the top of your head before turning back around to collect his things and packing them in a trunk. That's right, it was the time of year that your father left town and traveled to the market to sell his work and meet other creatives. Though you'd missed him dearly, his trips took no longer than a few days.

"Alright my little flower, what shall I bring you back?"

"You already know father. All I'd like is a rose."

The journey to the market was a relatively easy and familiar one. Your father and family horse, Philippe, take the same woodland route every few months. Upon reaching a fork in the road he doesn't remember existing, a breeze of cold air runs through the forest, sending a bit of a chill throughout his body.

"Well Philippe, we've got to make sure we pick the right path." he laughed to himself , nudging the horse towards the right. This path was unfamiliar, but it couldn't take him too far off from his destination. Besides, he'd look bad making that joke to Phillippe only to take the opposite route.

He had to say, the treetops blocking out the sun did make it a little chillier, and the lack of the usual river he followed deprived him from the calming sounds of the running water. The two continued on through the forest, making the most of the greenery and the.. snow?

Philippe's hoof clacking became muffled as the fluffy snowfall increased, a far away howl waking up the artist from his calm state. He was not at the age to try an outrun any wolves, especially not with the precious cargo he had strapped to his horse. Nudging his hooved friend with his calf, they carefully trotted along. The sun had begun setting an hour later, making it harder to see for the older man. Philippe and himself were tired, they were not expecting for this journey to take as long as it had, perhaps he should've taken the left path instead. Just as he was about to give and set up camp among the trees, metal gates came into view. As they got closer, he realized that the metal gates stood at the entrance of a large garden, with an even larger castle standing tall behind it.

With the drop in temperature, your father wasted no time in passing through the gates, tying Philippe up outside, and entering the castle. The foyer was dark, apart from the warm glow from the crackling fireplace. He quickly made his way over to the the heat, rubbing his hands together and letting out a big sigh of relief from escaping the cold even just for a moment.

A clinking of ceramic pulled his attention away from the fire, eyes scanning the room. They finally fell upon a a teacup sitting on a saucer, sliding across the floor in his direction. The teacup then looked up at him with his eyes and spoke. "Papa said I wasn't allowed to move, in case I scare you. But you looked cold so I thought you might like a hot cup of tea."

He blinked, nodded politely while his mind ran a thousand kilometers a minute. "Right, well.. I actually-"

Your father may not be young enough to outrun wolves but he hopes he's faster than this teacup. Philippe's lead had never been untied faster, hoping he was only experiencing hypothermia induced hallucinations while inside. He mounted the horse find his way to his original destination when he notices rose vines nearby, a speckles of red peeking out from the sheet of snow.

"Oh," A cloud of cold breath joins his laugh, "How could I forget?"

Jumping off Philippe, he step towards the prettiest flower to take home to you, when a deep snarl stops him in his tracks. He looks up just as the shadow looming over him presents itself, shaggy fur and giant horns making him fall back onto the snow. He tries to crawl quickly back to Philippe but the monster took hold of his arm and dragged him back into the castle. The frightened horse manages to escape and run off, leaving his owner in the hands of the massive predator.

"Please, let me go! I'll never tell a soul I was here, I promise!" his cries echoed through the candle-lit stairwells on the towers, reaching no one. Roughly thrown into the cell by the creature, he sat with his back against the wall and held his arm in pain.

"Oh I'll make sure of it." The giant beast growled lowly, locking the cell door and stomping away.

Your father had slumped down in his cell, his heart feeling heavy thinking of you alone back home. The stone was ice cold and rough, and the cell had a large opening that led to nothing but what seemed to be a fifty foot drop to his death.

On the steps leading to the West Wing sat a clock, a candelabra, a teapot, and a teacup. They watched in sorrow as their master stomped passed by them to his bedroom where an encased rose sat, one of its enchanted petals falling off and wilting away.

taglist ♥︎

@propertyofrjl @urmomw4ntsme @gooseycaboose

[wisteria-cherry]

in which everyone thinks you and sirius are dating

“you guys are such a cute couple.” sighs marlene as she watches you pick out the nasty bits of your stew and put them carefully on sirius’ plate. in turn, sirius makes sure to pass you your favorite pastry, which was just out of your reach.

“we aren’t a couple, mar.” you look up from your stew to reply. marlene blinks in surprise.

“wait, you aren’t?” she asks suspiciously, almost as though she didn’t believe you. she looked to sirius.

“we might as well be, hm?” sirius grinned at you, his face quite invading your personal space.

“we aren’t a couple,” you repeat, shoving his head away with an eye roll and a smile.

“you’re no fun.”

“okay.” you agree, then promptly go to take back the stew bits.

“oi!” sirius protested. “i take it back, geez!” you raise an eyebrow as you lift your fork up, giving him access to the little tidbits of food again. it was such a curious part of sirius— he could easily get more stew, but he insisted on taking your handouts.

“so you guys really aren’t a couple?” marlene leaned closer. “but the entire school thinks it. you lot are practically glued together.”

“we aren’t glued together. he’s glued to me.” you retort pointedly.

“i can’t help it.” sirius grinned smugly. “you’re just so gorgeous, i can’t not be glued to you.”

“no wonder the entire school thinks we’re a thing.” you sigh.

“wait, you aren’t a thing?” alice fortescue and her boyfriend, frank longbottom, looked over curiously.

“nope.” you replied, popping the “p” for emphasis.

“aw, let them think it, won’t you, dove?” sirius complained. “it’s so much more fun that way.”

“but i thought…” alice trailed off.

“me too.” frank agreed.

“you’re not?” a nearby hufflepuff popped her head into the conversation.

“i’m sorry, who are you?” you look at the hufflepuff, baffled. she giggled and scampered off, promptly joining a group of waiting hufflepuffs. the girl whispered into their waiting ears, and they burst into giggles. you were without a doubt that they were talking about sirius.

frankly, this was the issue with having pretty friends. peter had a gentle look about him, with round features, mussed hair because that’s what james’ hair did, and a sweet, boyish smile. james was tall (although only the third tallest of the marauders), beefy, and tan with a cute, lopsided sort of smile, and was far too oblivious to his admirerers due to his infatuation with the equally beautiful lily evans. remus had the sort of nerdy, quiet look about him that girls tended to like. fluffy, sandy hair and a tall frame paired with a surprisingly good fashion sense (something james did not have) lead to a nice view. it was a shame that people never noticed the beauty under all his scars.

and then there was sirius.

without a doubt, the prettiest boy in their year, possibly the whole school. shiny black hair that was well taken-care of, fair skin whose clearness was the envy of many acne-ridden girls, a tall frame that was lean and muscular. big hands, broad shoulders, perfect smile, cleanly shaved. smelled a bit musky, but his cologne was divin-

oh, shut up.

you nearly pinch the bridge of your nose in exasperation. you hardly even liked him like that. there’s no use sitting and thinking about how pretty he was while the other gryffindors were— well, what were they doing, anyway? the gryffindors were leaving, so, you left too, walking in step with remus.

“do people really think that we’re dating?” you ask remus as you walk, the other three boys racing ahead (more like other two, as peter was somewhat behind the more athletic boys). remus shrugged.

“i don’t care for rumors.” remus answered, perhaps somewhat stiffly, because there were plenty of rumors about him. there were rumors about all the marauders; popularity does that to you. the thing remus didn’t realize, however, was that there only ones he paid attention to (almost subconsciously) were the negative ones, despite the overwhelming amount of positive ones— as positive as rumors can get, anyway, when most of the rumors surrounding the boys related to how good they were in bed.

“however,” remus added, snapping you out of your thoughts, “i imagine they do. regardless of how you act towards padfoot, he clings to you. you understand what i mean by that, right?” you nod. sirius, the infamous playboy. he reveled in every bit of attention he was given by hopeful fans. he sat there and looked pretty. he was never the one pursuing. so, to see him trying to egg you on, get a reaction out of you— you may as well be snogging.

“i suppose so. but he flirts with everyone.” you point out.

“but he’s not so touchy with everyone. not so domestic.” remus answered. you fall silent as you and remus arrive at the common room. he had a point.

“whippersnapper,” said remus, and he held out his hand, which you took for balance as you climbed into the hole.

not so touchy with everyone. not so domestic.

huh.

[department-of-landing-strategies]

So I saw a tumblr post on tiktok about Trevor (Neville's toad) being pulled out of the cup as "Trevor Longbottom" and like a totally sane Percy fan it got me thinking, what if Percy was also involved in this.

We start before the champions are chosen. Barty Crouch Jr manages to mess with the cup that's choosing the champions and puts Harry's name in. Meanwhile, a group of Gryffindor 7th year students joke about putting Trevor into the cup under Trevor Longbottom. Let's just assume that the magic involved in the cup means that it knows what students are in the school at the time the tournament is being hosted. Someone then puts Trevor in as Trevor Longbottom sometime between Harry's name being put in and the champion choosing. Since Trevor is a pet and not a student, it only gets registered as a possibility because of the meddling needed to make Harry's name come out as a 4th champion.

Cut to the champion choosing with Crouch Sr watching Dumbledore read out the champions that got chosen and Bagman in the side chamber that the champions go to. Since Crouch Sr is there, Percy is also watching Dumbledore read out the names the cup chose. Everything is going smoothly. Then the cup chooses a 4th champion, and turning out to be a 2nd Hogwarts champion when Dumbledore reads out the name "Trevor Longbottom". Obviously the teacher are confused and questioning if Alice and Frank had a 2nd boy. Majority of 3rd years and younger don't know who that this and some are curious who that is because the thing to remember is that Percy's to Ginny's years at least is small compared to the usual Hogwarts year size due to the 1st wizarding war so it's a lot easier to remember who's in what year if you really tried. The 4th years and up are either curious as to who it is or having varying reactions to the fact that Neville's toad just got chosen as a champion. The latter's mostly the Gryffindor table but it can be seen on the other tables such as Luna (a 3rd year Neville's friends with) and Penny (a 7th year whose heard about Trevor's antics from Percy) on the Ravenclaw table. Neville's just sat in shock because he's sure he didn't have anything to do with Trevor's name being pulled besides Trevor being his pet but he's going through his memory as quick as possible in case he did have something to do with Trevor being a 4th champion. Percy, meanwhile, very quickly gets over his shock of Tervor being pulled and gets to work trying to convince his boss to move on without mentioning the fact that Trevor is a toad for reasons I don't have the energy to come up with rn before Neville has to bring his toad up to the teachers area of the Great Hall. Crouch Sr having had a son concludes that Trevor is a friend or lover of Percy's that's currently sick because why else would his assistant cover for someone that failed to show up for a mandatory feast. Ultimately, he moves on while entrusting Percy to relay the rules of the tournament and the contents of the magical contract binding the champions to their participation in the tournament (which Percy later offers to share with the 3 human champions chosen) to this Trevor person.

Cue a Percy and Neville centric A-Plot of this au version of GOF featuring a friendship forming between Percy and Neville, Crouch Sr finding out that Trevor is a toad sometime between Rita's interviews and the First Task, sirens going off in someone's head about Percy being put in charge of the tournament and the consequences of Trevor being entered into the tournament for both Percy and Neville. The B-Plot is Harry just having a semi regular school year while Crouch Jr is coming up with ways to get Harry into the graveyard to resurrect He-Who-Only-Feared-Dumbledore. If we want to add shipping for Percy, then I would say the main four options are the champions and Penny. Obviously, there are other options, but I think the champions and Penny are the most obvious. We can maybe even throw Neville having a crush on Percy that could maybe turn into something post-Hogwats depending if we go past GOF into the shipping pot as well

[eastwindmlk]

I would like to give you a waiver from the agency’s upfront payment.

The request is a prompt for Alice & Frank Longbottom:

“I want you in the most sinful ways possible.”

please and thank you

🕵️‍♀️

I will find out why your name is “east wind Mlk”

also, is it true youbtorment a sweet and innocent gryffindor about hotdogs?

🤨

Thank you, thank you!

I will leave you to your deductions why that is my name with the gracious hint that it has to do with another famous detective.

No tacos or Gryffindor were tormented in the making of this fic.

As always, my inbox is open. Go wild.

1.3k NSFW under the cut. Okay, there might be a little plot. Pls be forgiving, this is my first time writing Frank/Alice.

The soft swish of robes was the only indication that the two Aurors had even arrived on the scene. Their muffled footsteps easily missed while they stole their way through the alleged hide-out. Frank and Alice had been tracking an illegal portkey operation and all their leads had brought them here.

From the outside, it appeared to be a simple muggle antique shop. It smelled like one too. Mothballs and petricore filled their noses. The layer of dust is too thick for an actual operational store. That and thick wards they’d encountered were practically confirmation that they’d been right.

Frank pulled a face as he ran into a cobweb and shuddered at the unpleasant feeling, making Alice stifle a snicker. One that died in her throat when her ear perked up at a noise coming from the backroom.

Their eyes met as their hands tightened around their wands as they poised to stun. They closed the distance, flanking the door as they locked eyes once more. “After we’re done here, you and I are celebrating,” Frank whispered, an amused smile playing around his lips as Alice gave him an exasperated look jerking her head towards the door as if to tell him to focus. “Come on, you know you want to,” he teased in that same hushed tone.

Alice’s features softened for a moment and she flicked her eyes up, barely not rolling them at him. “Not the time, Frank,” she hissed at him, though he could see her cheek lift when her gaze returned to the door. “But yes, I want you.”

Both their breaths stilled while they listened to the shuffling. Both of them waited for something more before they would spring. When the footsteps disappeared down a flight of stairs they let out a sigh, relaxing a little. “Did you just say I want you?” Frank asked while they checked the door for potential traps and alarms.

“Yes,” Alice answered simply, her hand waving through the dispel runes with such skill that Frank could not help but stare. She never failed to amaze him. Alice also never failed to surprise him. “I want you in the most sinful ways possible.”

His jaw dropped and he wondered if he’d heard it correctly. Surely, she did not just say that during a mission of all time. “You can’t just say that,” he protested, scratching at his cheekbone with the tip of his wand. “And you shouldn’t be ignoring wand safety protocols, but here we are,” she quipped humorously and all Frank could do in response was chuckle.

It was then that they heard it, the voice of Edward Letuce, who had taunted them in his statements thinking he was too clever to be caught. Now they had him at the scene of the crime. The lightness of the moment before faded into the familiar rush that came with closing a case. With watching all the pieces fall into place and being right about the big picture.

The pair eyed each other, faces brimming with anticipation before bursting through the door, wands blazing. Before long, they’d had them all bound and wandless, ready for pick-up. Adrenaline still pumping through their veins. “How did you want me again?” Frank asked breathlessly as he leaned against the wall next to the door.

“Sinfully,” Alice chirped in response, casting the final piece of evidence into a containment spell before leaning back against a now-empty, desk. “Well, the most sinful ways possible if we are being precise.”

Frank hummed, trying to sound casual. “We are anything if not precise.” Casting a silencing charm on one of the gang members who was roundly cussing at them in Croatian. He did not need to know the language to ascertain the general idea of his loud tirade. “Yours or mine?”

“Yours. I want to have a bath after. That is if I can still walk after.” Now the other three were starting to grumble and curse. Normally, Alice would have silenced them but they made a point. This was not the most professional conversation they could have had.

A series of pops just outside the door that Frank was guarding told the pair that backup had arrived. Meaning they could transfer responsibility over to Jones and Wilkins. Leaving them a quick stop at the office before their night could really begin.

When it began it sounded like a crash of wood against brick, rattling keys and shuddering window panes. Alice’s back slammed against the door of Frank’s home mere moments after they apparated to his doorstep. His lips crashed into hers.

“You have no idea what you do to me when you talk like that,” Frank complained against her lips, the kiss desperate end forceful. He was taking her lips like it was his last supper. His tongue darted out to test the boundaries, flicking against the roof of her mouth when she granted him entry.

Clumsily the pair of them stumbled into the dark hallway, still locked together. Frank steered them towards the stairs, heading for his bedroom when Alice decided to have a different plan. Her body weight shifted against him and he stumbled into it.

“That’s far enough,” she breathed, her demanding hands undoing his robes and then his trousers. “I want you now,” she said more firmly when he tried to still her frantic tug at his belt. All he could do was lift his hips to slip them down to his ankles.

Still half-clothed and more than half hard he sprung free from his briefs and Frank groaned at the sweet relief. Followed by a soft moan as her tongue licked a teasing strip from base to tip, tongue circling the head. “You don’t have to.”

“Maybe I want to,” she answered before her lips stretched over him and all thoughts and reason left his mind. His hand found the short strands he could just about wind his fingers through, feeling the motion of her. Frank let his head fall backwards, resting on the stair above him while his thumb smoothed against the prickly little hairs along her ear.

He only lifts his head when her mouth disappears completely and is rewarded by the sight of her flushed cheeks and blown-out pupils, a string of saliva still connecting her lips to him. The sight is unbearably hot. “You’re gorgeous,” he said with a languid smile.

“And you are full of it,” Alice beams, some of the urgency gone while she rids herself of her robes, treating his eyes to a delectable view of her generous curves. A blush crept onto his cheeks when her eyes suddenly met his, slightly narrowed. “Are you getting undressed or what?”

He did not need to be told twice before the corner of her lip could tug up into that telltale smirk he had kicked off his trousers and made quick work of his socks. After all, there is nothing charming about a bloke otherwise nude bar from his mismatched socks.

Once undressed Alice turned to sit in his lap, her hand wrapped firmly around him while she lowered herself onto him with one hand holding onto the baluster for balance. The feeling of her warmth engulfing him is nearly too much.

Frank wrapped his arm around her waist, holding her close to him. His nose buried in her neck he thrusts up, enjoying the sound she made when their hips connected. The need to taste her skin was as overwhelming as the need for friction, to move. The moment she moans that desire becomes a near compulsive need to hear more.

Only satisfied when her back arched away from him, his teeth sunk into the soft skin of her shoulder, his tongue swept along the bruise to soothe it. “That’s it, darling,” he encouraged as he felt her clench around him. “Come for me,” he insisted, his fingers circling her clit while she squirmed in his grip.

When the tension mounted and she tightened around him he gripped her tighter, his hips rocking into hers to chase.

They were both left trembling, sweat pooled between them cooling while they rode out their climax together. Blissful, sore and ready for that bath.

[saveregblackordie0726]

Sombre et Pur'

You think you know the real story, the real version of events, but you’d be wrong. I want to tell you the real events of all those years ago. Over the years my whole world shifted on its axis, spinning me off like a rogue planet into uncharted territory. Because history books and whispers down darkened halls won't tell you how it felt. The fear, the thrill, the way your heart can hum with both dread and strange exhilaration. 

It all comes down to one name. One man, a man who ruined my life and saved it all at once. 

Regulus Arcturus Black. 

Second Year - 1973 

My hands trembled as I pushed the Hogwarts Express window open, the damp Scottish air hitting my face with the chill of late autumn. Below, the platform was a riot of farewells – tearful goodbyes from mothers dabbing at their eyes, fathers giving last-minute pep talks, kids shoving each other and shrieking with laughter. My stomach clenched, a familiar knot of nerves and excitement. Another year back at Hogwarts, another year with Lily. 

“Clem!” 

My sister's voice cut through the noise, and I leaned further out the window, spotting her fiery red hair and familiar green eyes. Lily was already waving, Severus Snape lurking like a shadow behind her. I gave him a quick smile, but he only grunted, his dark eyes flicking toward the train and then away. Not exactly the warmest welcome back after months apart. 

“Coming!” I yelled, hastily pulling my trunk out from under my seat. With a grunt and a few choice words – Hufflepuff loyalties aside, I’d never quite mastered the art of ladylike luggage hefting – I maneuvered it toward the compartment door. 

“Let me help with that.” 

I started, turning to see a boy who was in my year, one I had seen before, but had never really spoken to, offering to take my trunk. He was tall, handsome in a way that reminded me of those glossy adverts in Lily’s magazines. His voice had a strange tilt to it that led me to believe English may not have been his only language. Dark hair swept back off a pale face, aristocratic features that yelled ‘Pureblood’. That, and the flash of silver and green on the pristine badge pinned to his chest. Slytherin. Of course. 

“I’ve got it, thank you,” I managed, not trusting my voice not to betray the sudden tightness in my throat. 

“Are you sure? It looks rather heavy.” His deep grey eyes held a faint amusement, almost familiar in quality, somehow.  

“Perfectly sure.” I gave him a polite smile that I hoped conveyed some of the Hufflepuff backbone I sometimes lacked. It didn’t seem to faze him. 

The boy shrugged, a flicker of something like disappointment crossing his face. He stepped back, opening the corridor door for me with a slight, mocking bow. “After you, then.” 

As I wrestled my trunk down the narrow corridor, his low laugh followed me. Not exactly the most auspicious start to the journey. 

Inside our usual compartment, Lily was already animatedly chatting with Alice Fortescue, the ever-present Frank Longbottom beside her. At the sight of me, Lily’s face lit up. 

“Thank Merlin!” she exclaimed. “I was worried something terrible had happened, and you’d had to stay home.” 

“Nothing so dramatic,” I said, depositing my trunk in the rack. “Just some prat in Slytherin who thought he was being chivalrous.” 

“Was he cute?” Alice giggled. I rolled my eyes even as I couldn’t quite stop a blush from heating my cheeks. Alice had a way of always seeing straight to the heart of things, the things you didn’t want to admit yourself. 

“Not particularly,” I lied, dropping into the seat beside her. “He was just…arrogant.” 

Lily nodded in understanding. “Don’t worry, Clem. You won’t have to deal with many of them, not in Hufflepuff.” 

The soft rocking of the train and the familiar rumble of its journey lulled me into a sense of contentment. Lily and Alice were deep in a heated discussion about the best Chocolate Frog card – Dumbledore, according to Lily, while Alice swore by Morgana. Frank, bless his simple soul, seemed content just to listen, nodding enthusiastically at whichever girl was talking. 

I half-listened, my gaze drifting out the window. The Scottish countryside flashed by in a blur of green and gold. We were further north now, the landscape growing wilder. I'd always loved this journey, the way it felt like a passage into another world - a world of magic, adventure, and, occasionally, the sneaking suspicion that at any moment a troll might burst through the door, demanding my homework. 

My mind started to wander, a familiar path well-trodden in countless train journeys. My first year at Hogwarts still loomed large in my memory. Lily had been my rock, my guiding star amidst the bewildering whirlwind of new spells, intimidating teachers, and baffling castle staircases. We’d been inseparable then, even after the Sorting Hat proclaimed our differences - Gryffindor for brave Lily, Hufflepuff for loyal me. 

It was only natural, I suppose, that some distance had crept in. Lily had her Gryffindor crew, her close-knit gaggle of friends. There was James Potter, the cocky Quidditch star who'd pined after her for ages. His pal, Remus Lupin, was quieter and bookish but with a spark of mischief in his eyes. Peter Pettigrew trailed behind them, their devoted sidekick. And then, there was Severus. My own relationship with him was... complicated. A childhood friend turned sour, our paths diverging with each painful year. 

Hufflepuffs were a different breed. We prized kindness over daring, diligence over flashiness. My housemates were good eggs, the sort you could always count on for a borrowed quill or a sympathetic ear. But there was no Lily in my house, nobody who understood me with that fierce, intuitive bond we'd shared since birth. Sometimes, I felt as if I stood apart, an Evans amongst the Hufflepuffs, more invested in Lily's world than my own. 

A sharp knock on the compartment door snapped me back to the present. In strode Sirius Black, the very definition of a heartthrob. With his messy black hair, stormy grey eyes, and the easy confidence that oozed from every pore, he looked the part of the rebel, the one all the girls in higher years whispered about. Not that he seemed to pay much attention. His gaze zeroed in on me, a teasing grin spreading across his lips. 

"There's my favorite Hufflepuff," he declared, sliding into the seat next to me. The rest of the compartment looked simultaneously amused and scandalized. It wasn't exactly standard for a Gryffindor heartthrob to cozy up to a Puff this way. Especially a second year. 

"What are you doing here, Sirius?" Lily asked, sounding faintly disapproving. 

He shrugged, leaning back with that air of effortless cool. "Bored out of my mind in that stuffy compartment. Thought I'd see what you lot were up to." 

"Plotting world domination," I quipped. 

Sirius chuckled. "That sounds dangerous. Count me in." 

"I knew you would appreciate the ambition," I shot back, a familiar warmth stirring. 

We were an unlikely pair, but there was a bond between us that defied simple explanations. Maybe it was that rebel streak he saw mirrored in my own eyes, behind the Hufflepuff facade. Or perhaps he recognized something of his own mischief reflected back. We were, in our own ways, outsiders. He, the Black sheep of an ancient wizarding family known for its dark connections. And me, the less-daring Evans, eternally overshadowed by my brilliant older sister. 

"So, Evans," Sirius said, "Any exciting summer adventures?" 

I hesitated. My summer had been ordinary, filled with family dinners and afternoons weeding our overgrown vegetable patch. Nothing that would compare to tales of Quidditch matches or pranks masterminded with James Potter. But Sirius seemed genuinely interested, a contrast to the dismissive way some of his pureblood friends would treat me. 

I hesitated before launching into a slightly embellished account of my summer. I mentioned helping Mum in the garden, battling a particularly feisty infestation of slugs ("It was epic," I insisted, to Sirius's great amusement). I talked about our neighbor, Old Mrs. Figg, and her numerous cats, a topic that never failed to make Sirius groan and roll his eyes. I even brought up my bookish forays into the muggle library, the one Lily always teased me about. 

There was one part I left out, the dark thread of my summer that never quite went away. Petunia. My eldest sister was home from university, her usual disdain for all things magical ratcheted up a notch after a year away. She never truly understood me or Lily, her nose permanently wrinkled as if we smelled slightly of troll dung. It was worse this summer, her comments sharper, her laughter more bitter. 

She'd joined forces with Vernon Dursley, her perfectly dreadful boyfriend. Together, they formed an unholy alliance, a united front of normalcy. Lily, with her fiery temper, brushed them off. But I felt every insult like a tiny papercut that wouldn't heal, leaving me quietly raw. 

Sirius cocked his head after a particularly mundane story about Mrs. Figg. "That it, then? That was your great adventure?" 

A flush crept up my neck. "More or less," I muttered. 

"You're hiding something," he declared, his eyes narrowed. 

"No," I protested, but even to my own ears, it sounded weak. 

Changing the subject quickly seemed the best course of action. "What about you? How was your summer?" 

A shadow crossed Sirius's handsome face. "Same as always," he said with a casual shrug. "Dull. You know my parents..." 

He didn't need to elaborate. The Blacks were one of the oldest, most powerful pureblood families in the wizarding world. From the whispered rumors I'd gleaned, they prized tradition and purity above all else. Sirius, with his rebellious streak and easy friendship with those considered 'lesser', was the odd one out. 

"I spent some time teaching Regulus Quidditch," he continued, his voice brightening slightly. "The kid's got potential." 

"Regulus?" I frowned. "I don't think I know him." 

He looked surprised. "Really? My kid brother. He's a Slytherin, in your year, actually." 

A shiver ran down my spine, a cold prickle of unease. "Wait," I said slowly. "Is he...tall, dark hair? Superior attitude and grey eyes?" 

Sirius laughed. "That's him! He said you ran into him earlier, remember? With your trunk?" 

A wave of nausea swept over me. That was Sirius's brother? The arrogant boy who'd acted like my clumsiness was a personal insult? 

"He didn't mention you were his older brother," I said, my voice tight. 

Sirius shrugged. "Regulus isn't exactly the chatty type. Keeps to himself, does his thing. He's...different." 

The way he said it made my discomfort grow. There was an edge in his tone, a hint of something unspoken. Did they not get along? Was Regulus simply a quiet boy, or did the Black family darkness run deeper in him than the mischievous rebellion in Sirius? 

Sensing my sudden shift in mood, Sirius changed tactics. "Enough about my boring family. Tell me more about this slug battle. Were there casualties?" 

His playful grin was infectious. The gnawing feeling about Regulus receded, if not entirely forgotten. For the rest of the train ride, Sirius regaled us with absurd tales of transforming his mother's prized peacock topiaries into dungbombs, James Potter's latest Quidditch mishap, and a particularly daring prank involving an enchanted suit of armor and a very disgruntled Filch. His laughter filled the compartment, pushing away any lingering shadows. 

Despite my earlier apprehension about returning to Hogwarts, I found a warmth spreading through me. Lily’s presence was always a comfort, and Sirius, with his easy charm and rebellious spirit, added a spark that my more ordered world lacked. Perhaps this year would hold something different, a shift away from feeling like Lily’s little sister and into a space of my own making. 

I would soon realize that my second year would begin with a distinct feeling of misfortune. My already-dreadful schedule somehow became worse. It seemed our house group was cursed to share the majority of classes with Slytherin. And as if the prospect of hours locked in proximity with sneering, silver-badged elitists wasn't bad enough, the universe decided to add a dash of extra cruelty to the mix. 

 Enter: Regulus Black. 

If my first encounter with Sirius's little brother had been annoying, our subsequent academic clashes bordered on a full-blown feud. The boy wasn't just Slytherin, he was insufferably brilliant. Potions, Herbology, Charms – it didn't matter. He had a knack for everything, a thirst for knowledge that mirrored my own, only without a shred of kindness to temper it. 

Every raised hand (his), every neatly completed essay (flawless, of course), every whispered praise from a professor (while they barely glanced my way) fueled a slow burn inside me. I, Clementine Evans, was not used to coming in second. Suddenly, a rivalry was born, one far fiercer than any Slytherin vs. Gryffindor Quidditch match. 

At times, it seemed ridiculous to care so much. But somewhere beneath the surface, it wasn't just about grades. The constant presence of Regulus was a reminder of the divide, not just between houses, but between who I was and who the wizarding world expected me to be. Hufflepuffs were the nice ones; we weren't meant to claw our way to the top of the class. Especially a muggle-born Hufflepuff. We were supposed to smile, help others with their homework, and cheer from the sidelines. 

Yet, a stubborn part of me refused to be underestimated. In every muttered spell, every draining night spent poring over textbooks, I was determined to prove I could be more than just "a good Hufflepuff." 

Thankfully, life wasn't all Potions disasters and silent battles with moody Slytherins. My friendship with Sirius, that spark forged on the train, had turned into something solid and reliable. He'd unofficially adopted me into his Gryffindor posse. To my surprise, the others – James, Remus, and even Peter – followed suit. 

At first, I was the tag-along, Lily's kid sister who happened to be reasonably amusing. But slowly, I started to find my own place within their dynamic. James and I bonded over our shared love of Quidditch. While I was no Chaser like him, my grasp of strategy often got him nodding in begrudging approval. 

With Remus, it was quieter moments shared in the library, him recommending books far beyond our year level, challenging me intellectually in a way no one outside of Regulus ever did. Peter was the most unassuming of the group, his presence less forceful but no less welcome. He was a good listener, the kind of friend who always had your back in a crowd, even if the crowd was just, you and him. 

And then there was Sirius. We'd slipped into an easy, teasing rhythm somewhere between friendship and sibling-like bond. There were shared glances across the Great Hall, stolen conversations in hidden corners, and a thrilling awareness of him that lingered even in his absence. 

It should have felt strange, befriending a group of Gryffindors a year older than me. But with them, I found an acceptance I'd been missing. They saw me not as the Evans girl, but as Clem – funny, clever, and with a bit of fire burning just beneath my Hufflepuff surface. 

[cquity]

alice & frank

she leant back on her heels as she spun around in the rink. “i honestly thought i would be on my ass by now.” alice admitted, looking over at her roommate with a soft grin. “this is pretty fun - i have to admit i’m rather impressed by this idea for palentines day.” 

@papcrrings​

[merlinsbudgiesmugglers]

WIP Whatever Day of the Week It Is

I got tagged in a WIP Wednesday a couple of weeks ago by @lanaturnergetup but I wasn't in a writing mood at the time.

BUT Lana's Hinny quidditch fic has inspired a Tedromeda quidditch fic of my own!

This snippet has no Tedromeda (sorry), but it does feature some Longbottom family goodness!

(And a little screenshot from what is forever in my mind known at the Tedromeda interview with Sam Claflin and Lily Collins)

Oh, and the Snippet!

-------

“Good morning, darling,” she murmured, dropping a kiss to little Neville’s head as she passed him in his highchair to take a seat at the kitchen bar.

“Good morning, honey.” Frank said with a teasing grin as he passed her a hangover potion, which Andromeda gratefully accepted. She downed it in one, screwing her nose at the horrendous taste, but the instant clearing of her foggy head was worth it.

“You know, I’ve had dreams about waking up to a sexy man in an apron.” She teased as Neville banged his spoon loudly on the tray of his high chair. “Though there were definitely less babies involved.”

“Did you hear that, Alice? Andromeda thinks I’m sexy!”

Alice appeared, looking far too put together for someone who should be feeling just as rotten as Andromeda. She had on a casual white dress that fell just below her knees and her blonde hair was clean and soft, nothing like the nest of hairspray Andromeda knew hers was.

“Andromeda hasn’t dealt with you leaving your pants on the floor,” Alice teased, before kissing Frank softly.

[whatstruthgottodowithit]

The Only Evans Girl [New Beginnings]

Fandom: Harry Potter [Marauder’s Era]

Pairing: Sirius Black x Original Female Character, Sirius Black x Daisy Evans, James Potter x Lily Evans

Characters: Sirius Black, Original Female Character, Daisy Evans, Lily Evans, Remus Lupin, James Potter, Harry Potter, Severus Snape, Minerva McGonagall, Alice Fortescue, Frank Longbottom, Marlene McKinnon, Albus Dumbledore, Voldemort, Peter Pettigrew, Lucius Malfoy, Bellatrix LeStrange, Walburga Black, Orion Black, Jasper Thicknesse, Barty Crouch Jr, Mulciber, Walden McNair

Word Count: 9804

Rating: Mature

Summary: On the 31st of October 1981 Daisy Evans life changed forever. Since then she’s been tasked with one objective, keep Harry Potter safe. That however isn’t always that easy to do.

Tags/ Warnings: Hogwarts, Friends, Friends to Lovers, Slow Burn, Marauder’s Era, Teenage Angst, Babies, Weddings, Dating, Crying, Loss of Virginity, First Wizarding War, Love, Kissing, Teenagers, James Potter is a bit of a dick, Hogsmeade, 1970s, Fighting, Loss of Parents, Grief, Babies, Injuries, Gore, Harm, Christmas,  The Potter’s Mansion // Daisy’s Dress // NYE Lily’s Dress // NYE Daisy’s Dress // Lily’s Ring // Daisy’s Ring

LINK TO AO3 // LINK TO PINTEREST // LINK TO ALL PARTS

Harry Potter hated Halloween. He detested it. Many people may have thought that this was due to the catastrophic turn of events that had changed his life forever during one of his earliest holidays but no. It was due to the fact that every year without fail he would be unceremoniously dumped at number four Privet Drive and be forced to spend an arduously long week there until his aunt came to collect him. He supposed he should count himself lucky. After all it could have been the other way around with only a week spent with his auntie Daisy every year and the rest with the Dursleys which was something he’d never wish for. But then again he supposed lucky little boys didn't have to live with their aunts at all. 

So as their little Ford Fiesta trundled down the suburban landscape of Surrey he sat sulkily in the passenger seat, peering out of the window as rain pelted against the glass. His auntie Daisy was sitting beside him in the driver’s seat, singing along to the tape in the player. She always sang along. To the radio, her record player which had become a stereo system a few years ago. It was just fortunate she had a decent enough voice that he didn’t mind it, well until she pulled up outside of school to collect him with the likes of T-Rex blasting out of the rolled down windows, then he wasn’t so keen. And he wasn’t so keen now, wondering how she could be so blasé about leaving him for a week when he was going to be miserable.

So, being brave he decided to speak over the sounds of the Bangles as he said, ‘do I have to?’ 

The question hung in the air for a moment, Daisy not quite hearing him for a second until it registered in her brain he’d spoken, her singing dying down as she glanced across at him and then back at the road before she asked, ‘what?’

‘I said do I have to go,’ Harry repeated, reaching forward to turn the dial on the sound system until it was nothing more than a murmur. Again Daisy looked at him only now she had time to register the forlorn expression on his face, the gloom in his features reflecting that of the outside.  Daisy sighed, triggering a bout of begging, ‘oh please auntie Dais!’ 

‘Harry,’ she sighed.

‘Please!’ he whined.

‘You know you have to,’ Daisy said, glancing at him before she had to look back at the road though whether that was to ensure she didn’t crash or because looking at his heartbroken little face made her heart squeeze in her chest. 

‘Why! It’s not like they like having me there,’ Harry grumbled.

‘That’s not true,’ Daisy countered though she wasn’t quite sure he was entirely wrong. It was one of the reasons she didn’t like having to do this. Of course she knew Petunia loved Harry, in her own stiff way, but the way she treated him didn’t exactly lend itself to that notion. If she was being honest it wasn’t very different to the way she treated Daisy. And Vernon well that was its own nightmare. But sometimes it was a necessity. Not that Harry saw it that way.

‘Well uncle Vernon doesn’t,’ he grumbled folding his arms across his chest. Daisy sighed, hoping that the Potter’s signature flair for the dramatic didn’t decide to rear its ugly head today. 

‘Uncle Vernon doesn’t like anyone,’ she countered, ‘but there’s always Dudley.’ 

‘Who won’t speak to me when his friends are around,’ Harry challenged.

‘Harry,’ Daisy sighed.

‘Can’t I stay with you?’ he begged. 

‘I have to work kiddo,’ Daisy said, ‘and you can’t stay home alone.’

‘I could come to work with you. I can help out and I wouldn’t get in the way,’ Harry bargained, his bright green eyes widening behind his round spectacles as the hope grew. Daisy glanced at him. Of course. If it wasn’t the Potter flair for the dramatic it was her sister’s logic and reasoning destined to get her feeling guilty enough to get her to bend to the will of a ten-year-old. But she couldn’t cave to this. 

‘You know I can’t. Mel’s away and I can’t leave the shop unmanned. It’s only once a year you know that,’ she said, earning a scowl as he looked out the window. Daisy sighed and rubbed her heavy eyes. She was too tired for this but she kept her resolve even if she did throw in a sympathetic tone as she said, ‘if there was any other way sweetheart.’

Harry said nothing, still scowling as he looked at two raindrops on the window, racing one another to the bottom until they merged into one. He only looked up when he felt a hand on his knee finding Daisy smiling encouragingly at him as she said, ‘maybe we could do something when I come and get you? Maybe the zoo or something.’

‘And what if you get stuck in the python enclosure this time?’ Harry challenged. Daisy bristled, trying to keep calm. She had to give it to him when he wanted to, he could give as good as he got and if the ‘python incident’ was anything to go by it would be sensible to try and keep him somewhat emotionally stable. So she decided to change tact.

‘As long as you promise it’s a python and not a lion then it’s a deal,’ Daisy teased, hoping to temper his mood. She could see the pulling of a smile at his mouth even though he kept his arms crossed tight against him. Daisy nudged him with her elbow making him roll his eyes as he grumbled, ‘fine.’

At that she smiled and turned the radio back up, happy that she’d managed to talk him around. Because he had to go to Petunia’s. Of course next year it wouldn’t be a problem but for now she needed her sister and she wasn’t going to have him if he was in a stinking mood. After all Daisy was lucky Petunia had agreed to have him at all after the thing at the zoo last year even if it wasn’t technically Harry’s fault. The prospect of him having to return this Halloween was what she had kept focused on as Petunia screeched down the phone at her. Of course she hadn’t thought her nephew being trapped alone with a bloody great snake was funny but picturing the panic on her sister’s thin face and the colour Vernon must’ve turned did make her chuckle. But she’d kept it to herself. She’d played the game knowing that for just one more year she’d need them to have him. One more year of playing by everyone else’s rules and then they'd be back to where they should be.

It was still raining as they pulled up out the front of the Dursleys but that didn’t stop a couple of curtains from twitching, inspecting her red Ford as it pulled up onto the rain soaked curb. As Daisy locked up the car Harry darted up the drive to the front door, his hold all swinging around vigorously as he tried to escape the rain. But he didn’t ring the bell. Even if he had been trying to escape the downpour he didn’t see the point of rushing into the inevitable and instead waited for his auntie to join him on the front step, ringing the bell with too much vigour as she tried to avoid getting wetter than needed. 

The door whipped open revealing Vernon to them both. He was larger than the last time Daisy had seen him, which was no surprise, and he looked disgusted to have them both at his front door, again not  a surprise. Neither was the dismal way he said, ‘oh it’s you.’

‘Vernon,’ Daisy said. It wasn’t a formal greeting and she didn’t bother to smile but then again neither had he. At least her tone, if dissected, could support a degree of politeness. 

‘You were supposed to be here half an hour ago,’ Vernon said scathingly. Again Daisy fought the sarcastic remark that was burning the tip of her tone, opting for playing the fool like she did so often around him if only to make him feel better. She’d learned a long time ago fighting with the likes of Vernon Dursley was only an act guaranteed to make both parties stupider and so she used whatever willpower she could muster to remain calm. That was why her visits were so few and far between.

‘Oh there was a lot of traffic as we got into town,’ Daisy lied. She could feel Harry glancing up at her no doubt clocking her tiny fib and wanting to refute it by pointing out they’d actually left the house nearly twenty minutes after they were supposed to but he too sensed there was no point adding fuel to this fire. It would only get them off to a rocky start and Daisy wasn’t the one destined to spend her half term here. 

‘Mmm, well,’ Vernon said as if this proved a point he’d not yet made. He gestured for them to come in which they did, thankful to be out of the rain, though that relief lasted all of ten seconds as he quickly chastised them for the amount of water now dripping on his hall carpet. 

Daisy said nothing but Harry didn’t miss the eye roll she gave as she hung her coat up on the stand. He dropped his hold-all by the front door and followed his aunt as they were shuffled through into the living room. It looked as stiff as it always did, as if it had never been lived in like a show home. It had him on edge every time he came as if one movement would create chaos.

Dudley was sitting on the couch watching the TV and Petunia appeared from the kitchen as they entered the lounge, an exasperated look on her face as she said, ‘oh you’re finally here then.’

‘Yep,’ Daisy said, not bothering to respond to the insinuation.

‘Traffic apparently,’ Vernon said, decanting himself into the armchair opposite the television. Petunia’s mouth grew tighter but she didn’t say anything.

Again Daisy ignored them, opting to look to the most amenable Dursley, her nephew Dudley.

‘Hi Dudley,’ she said, watching him though he barely turned his head away from whatever he was watching on the television as he said, ‘hi auntie Daisy.’

‘How’s my little nephew?’ she asked hoping he’d engage in some way so that she wasn’t stuck in mind numbing conversation with Petunia and Vernon.

‘Not so little now, right Dudders!’ Vernon chuckled, finally tearing his son’s eyes away from the television as he smiled and stood up showing his aunt the growth spurt he’d had.

‘Blimey!’ Daisy smiled, ‘you’ll be taller than me by next year!’

‘I’m the tallest in the class!’ he boasted with a smile.

‘I’m not surprised,’ Daisy replied, watching as his gaze fell to Harry who was standing behind her, shielding himself away from the three of them.

‘Bet I’m taller than you,’ Dudley boasted with a pride only a ten-year-old could have about such trivial things. Harry was over by his side in a shot just as eager to measure up against him. They stood back-to-back, shoulders pushed back and heads tilted up as they looked at Daisy to measure them knowing she’d be willing to accommodate. After all she’d shared a room with four teenage boys for a spell where silly arguments and nonsensical competitions had been the norm.

‘Hmm,’ she said, eyeballing the two-inch difference between her nephews for an agonisingly long moment knowing it would be driving Dudley wild, ‘I think Dudley’s just beat you there Harry.’

‘I knew it,’ he said smugly as they pulled apart. Fortunately Harry didn’t seem too put out about the loss as he continued to brag, ‘Dad says I’ll probably be the tallest in the year at Smeltings next year. Do you think you’ll be the tallest at your school?’

‘Dunno,’ Harry shrugged, unbothered, ‘probably not.’

‘Where is your school anyway?’ Dudley probed, throwing himself onto the settee with Harry perching on the seat beside him.

‘I don’t know,’ he said, looking at Daisy for an answer as Dudley continued, ‘it’s not some awful comp is it!’

‘I don’t know, auntie Dais?’ Harry asked, curiosity in his eyes as if this was the first time he’d thought about what lay beyond the wonderful world of primary school. Daisy felt her heart skip a beat as he looked at her.

‘Well I don’t think we’ve decided anything yet,’ she lied, feeling Petunia and Vernon’s eyes on her. Harry’s too as his brow furrowed at her woolliness. Fortunately Petunia stepped in, physically breaking his gaze as she gestured for Dudley to get up and ordered, ‘Dudley show Harry to his room.’

‘He knows where his room is,’ Dudley moaned in protest.

‘Well show him again!’ Petunia said firmly.

Dudley groaned and pulled himself up from the couch as if he was being dragged along by some invisible force rather than his own volition. He moved past Daisy, trailed by Harry who eyed his aunt with suspicion at the distraction but followed his cousin up the stairs. Once they were out of view Petunia pushed the living room door shut and moved to the centre of the room, watching Daisy closely as she said, ‘so you haven’t mentioned it yet?’

‘Not yet,’ Daisy said looking at her sister's worried face.

‘Are you going to?’ she asked, her thin lips pursed awaiting a response. Daisy sighed and rubbed her brow.

‘You know I am,’ she replied.

‘When?’ Petunia pushed.

‘You know when,’ Daisy said, folding her arms across her chest.

‘Must you!’ Petunia protested.

‘Tuney,’ Daisy sighed.

‘That school,’ she started, moving to stand near Vernon who grabbed her hand, his pudgy thumb swiping across her bony knuckles as a show of support, ‘that school is the reason that Lily-‘

‘That school had nothing to do with that!’ Daisy protested, anger bubbling in her stomach at the accusation. As if Petunia had any clue about what had happened. She’d opted out of it too long ago and only dared to know what Daisy had told her. She had no clue. Not really hence why she was protesting as she said, ‘you’ve been fine as you are! Why send him there? Why can't he just live his life as he is now? Go to a normal school-’

‘With normal people,’ Vernon interjected roughly. That was enough to get Daisy out of her seat though she was sure that was just to get herself far enough away from him she didn’t slap the moustache off his red face.

‘I’m not arguing about this Tuney,’ she said firmly. Vernon snorted and muttered, ‘makes a change,' under his breath.

That was the last straw and Daisy turned away ready to leave. She hadn't wanted to drop and dash but like with most meetings she had with her sister’s family they ended sooner than planned with Daisy having the urge to flee. It made her long for the Potters. Euphemia’s kind smile and Monty’s hearty chuckle. Or her own parents who would’ve been able to put a sisterly squabble to bed in a heartbeat. Fortunately the boys had returned providing ample distraction as she smiled and said, ‘right you two I best be off!’

‘Now?’ Harry frowned, glancing at his aunt and uncle who were in silent conversation.

‘I better get back,’ she lied, turning her attention to Dudley, the least likely to question her, ‘I said to Harry, maybe we could do something the day I come back. Something fun? Maybe you could come with us?’

‘Really?’ Dudley said excitedly.

‘Yeah, why don’t you boys think it over for the week,’ she said, patting him on the shoulder, ‘bye.’

‘Bye auntie Daisy,’ he beamed before he trotted into the living room and resumed watching television. Daisy looked at her other nephew. He was still watching her but his gaze was no longer curious but sad and suddenly Daisy was sad to leave him. She didn’t like it but she knew it was a necessity only now, on the cusp of something new it didn’t feel like it was.

‘See me out?’ she asked, walking past him into the hallway. He followed, walking her to the door and out into the rain which had fortunately lightened from the time she’d been inside. She could see Petunia by the living room door watching the two of them closely but she ignored her, smiling at Harry as she said, ‘I’ll miss you you know.’

Harry didn’t reply evidently still sulking about the arrangement so she didn’t take it to heart.

‘Be back in no time though,’ she promised, opening her arms for a hug. Harry stepped into them, allowing her to hug him, his head just below her chin, no doubt destined to be towering above her in no time. Daisy closed her eyes and pulled him in close, mumbling, ‘love you,’ into his mop of messy black hair.

‘Love you too,’ she heard him mumble deep in the fabric of her jacket.

‘Bye kiddo,’ she said as she pulled back, disentangling herself and moving out onto the path.

‘Bye,’ he waved.

After that she forced herself away, running down the path until she was back at the car. She climbed inside quickly, waving at him as she pulled away, the house growing smaller and smaller until she turned out of view.

She had barely made it out of the estate before the tears started to run down her face though she didn’t know why. After all this had been her routine for the last nine years. Every year without fail she’d send Harry to Petunia’s so that she could do what she had to. Every year she’d drive the short distance to the garage she rented and leave her car there for the week. Every year she’d haul a bag of clothes out of the boot and swing it over her shoulder before she disappeared with a crack, reappearing outside an old pub in the heart of London, the Leaky Cauldron. Every year she’d go inside, pay an extortionate amount of galleons on a room for a week and then trudge to the upstairs allowing the magic of the place to seep into her bones.

For fifty one weeks of the year she’d be a muggle. She’d run around after Harry and try to keep her business afloat. She’d go to swimming lessons and school plays. She’d pretend to care about whatever the mums were saying at the school gates. But for one week a year she wasn’t a guardian. She wasn't a muggle. She was just Daisy.

She was herself, in her world.

And for nine years she’d felt entitled to that but change was coming. Soon her world would be coming back to her and not only that she’d be introducing her nephew to it. She’d show him what she’d been depriving him of for the past nine years. She hoped he wouldn’t hate her. She hoped that he’d understand, once he’d felt the magic, how much she needed it. How she’d only done what she thought was right.

She hoped he’d understand how for one week a year she needed to be selfish. She hoped a week at the Dursleys wasn’t too bad because as she peered out of the window, watching the hustle and bustle of Diagon Alley below she couldn’t bear the thought of going back.

✵✵✵

Daisy’s first day passed in a blur. After a good chunk of the night tossing and turning thinking about Harry she awoke late in the morning and by the time she had gotten downstairs they had stopped serving breakfast. So with a rumbling stomach and the sensation of galleons burning a hole in her pocket she headed into the alley. Given it was a weekday it wasn’t too busy even if it was half term. Wizards and witches milled about but there were no queues to be seen and Daisy managed to get some lunch at a coffee shop without too much trouble. It wasn’t great but it did have a window seat which allowed her to watch as she ate. She knew it was mundane but she couldn’t help herself. The whole thing just felt so much more exciting.

She watched a witch in purple robes appear from the doorway of Flourish and Blotts with an obscenely large pile of books before she disappeared into thin air, books and all. She watched a young blonde boy beg his mother to go into what appeared to be a new joke shop on the alley, yanking at her black robes as she tried to look at something in the window of Madam Primpernelle's Beautifying Potions. She even watched a group of goblins as they stormed up towards Gringotts in deep conversation, whatever they were speaking of apparently of the utmost importance as they shoved past gathered groups and wandering pedestrians without looking up. In a normal café in Cokeworth she wouldn’t have given the outside a second glance.

In fact she didn’t do much of anything in Cokeworth. Besides taking care of Harry and working she hardly did anything. She didn’t see the point. Having friends and connections in the muggle world seemed like a waste of time especially when they’d have to leave that world soon enough. Though that day didn’t seem to be coming quick enough. Eight more months, she reminded herself. Just eight more months.

After eating she stayed a while until the café became too crowded and her cup of tea became too cold for her to spend any longer occupying a seat. Once out into the light drizzle she decided to wander the alley going in almost every shop and treating herself to whatever caught her eye. Of course she didn’t need it all and most of it she would have to keep out of Harry's way but on days like these she didn’t much care. And by the first evening rolled around she was exhausted, barely finishing her pie and chips before she trudged back upstairs and collapsed into bed.

The second day was better. Mainly because she managed to rise before the afternoon and catch breakfast downstairs which meant by the time that she got to her destination she was fed and watered.

Marlene’s grave was overgrown, weeds protruding from the grass around it and slimy moss built up on the ornate marble. Of course it always was, whatever work she put into up-keeping never lasting the year between visits and given that the three names inscribed above her friend’s were the only other people who would be bothered to maintain it wasn’t a surprise. But she didn’t mind the clean-up. In fact she never opted to clean it with magic, the only time she refused to use it in her week. Whilst she stripped weeds and scrubbed cold stone she talked to her friend. She updated her on her life and without fail told her just how much she missed her. And with Marlene it felt easy to do.

Easier than it was the following day to go through the same topics of conversation with her other friend. In a graveyard she could speak freely. She’d even pause knowing the response her friend would give her and the laughs they would have if they were together. Sitting with Alice in St Mungo’s she couldn’t do the same. It didn’t feel the same.

She wondered if it was because there were other people around, healers wandering in and out pretending to check on something when really they were checking up on this foreign visitor. Sometimes she wondered if they recognised her or if they wanted to ask why she was here or at least why she was here so infrequently. The truth was logistics aside, visiting Alice rather than cold stone hurt much more.

Of course she herself was fine. The hospital staff were nice, and she and Frank always seemed content pottering around their section of the ward they called home but it made Daisy angry. To see her kind, clever, warm-hearted friend reduced to virtual nothingness made rage boil inside her. To know that like her nephew Alice’s son didn’t know his parents or rather they didn’t know him was devastating. It broke her.

As did the way she could see something behind Alice’s eyes when she spoke as if a flicker of recognition was there, bubbling away and attempting to respond though her mouth couldn’t say the words. She never spent long there. After an hour of failed conversations and blank stares she gave up, redirecting them to a group activity or someone else who could stand to talk of nothingness.

Those visits always ended up with her finding herself in a pub, toiling the rest of her day away before she stumbled back to the Leaky Cauldron and into bed.

The next day rolled around too quickly as always.

October 31st always seemed to arrive quickly every year, the days that followed it merging into one long tunnel of hurt which Daisy would emerge from sad and damaged but with no option but to return to her life as normal, squirrelling her emotions away for the next year as to not to alert her nephew to the turmoil. He was a kid after all.

She spent most of Halloween in bed, her sadness too overwhelming for her to have any desire to move but as the hours ticked by descending into the evening she decided it was best to get a move on. She didn’t bother trying to make an effort with her appearance. It wasn’t as if it was warm enough to wear the highest fashions and she’d only cry her makeup off so after changing into some jeans, a jumper and boots she washed her face, brushed her teeth and hair and left her room with her coat over her arm.

It was cold out when she got to Godric’s Hollow but thankfully not raining which she supposed was something. Nevertheless she shrugged on her coat buttoning it to the top to fend off the chill. The village was deserted, the cold dark nights not tempting anyone out as evidenced by the yellow glow of each window she passed by. It was quiet too, that eerie quiet she’d felt nine years ago which still put a shiver down her spine.

The graveyard was just as still with the only thing to be heard the rustling of leaves as they blew past the neat headstones lining the small plot of grass that backed onto the church. But it wasn’t empty. Standing in the middle of the graveyard with his back to her was a man. Daisy checked her watch.

Eight pm. Right on time.

She moved through the gate quickly heading to where he was standing, looking down at the simple headstone in front of him. At the sound of her coming he turned around a sad smile pulling at his scarred lips in greeting. Daisy wasted no time and flung herself into his arms, already feeling the tears pricking at her eyes at the sight of him.

‘Hiya Dais,’ he said quietly, holding her against him, his cheek on the top of her head.

‘Hi Moony,’ she whispered into the fabric of his coat. They stood there for a moment, absorbing the other for as long as they could before they were forced to break apart. He looked older this time, the lines around his eyes more defined than they had been last year and he had a fresh scar by his ear that she placed her hand on immediately checking it was alright and ignoring the way he rolled his eyes at her fussing over him. 

‘Last month,’ he said as if that explained it all. Daisy nodded. For a moment they said nothing, the pair of them acutely aware of the overwhelming silence that lingered between them, the absence of so many friends always so present whenever they got together. Eventually it hurt too much to think of and so he turned away, clearing his throat as he gestured to the grave and said, ‘I got roses this time. The woman in the shop said they’re in season for winter. I put a lasting charm on them so they might do until the new year.’

‘Right,’ Daisy said as he raised the bouquet of flowers she hadn't noticed he’d been holding up to now. The arrangement was lovely, red and white roses intermingled with baby’s breath and mistletoe. The kind of bouquet Euphemia would have in every vase in the house over Christmas time, the smell of fresh flowers battling mulled wine and shortbread as one walked the halls of their house. As Remus placed it down on the stone Daisy felt tears coming.

The headstone was simple. Two names in elegant print chiselled into white marble. Daisy hadn’t had much input in that respect. She hadn’t had much to do with the gigantic memorial either, her life in tatters at the time which had meant that her priority had not been to attend the outpouring of mourning but to stay hidden away, trying to recover and do what was best for Harry.

Looking at it it always felt the same. Stiff and proper. Unpersonalised, like a guess at what James and Lily would have wanted. It always made her feel guilty.

As did the cruelly short time span written just below it.

That always got her.

She felt guilty because even though her birthdate was that of the one of the stone her death date was yet to be written. She was granted so much extra life, life that time and time again she would’ve traded for Harry to have his parents. Life she would’ve given to save them.

They could’ve done so much more. More than she had in the last nine years, play pretending the mundanity of a muggle. Her life was like Alice’s, wasted.

The tears were streaming down her face now, pouring out of her silently. Remus noticed them immediately as he stood back up but he didn’t say anything. Instead he slipped his arm through hers and allowed her to nestle into his shoulder as his own icy cold tears ran down his face.

Nine years.

Nine years and it somehow never got any easier. For either of them.

She didn’t know how long they’d stood there, crying in silence, but after a while a man came into the other end of the grave yard, trotting his dog along the lines of headstones and the pair of them decided it was best to get out of there. They walked through the village down its winding lanes which took them past the memorial. This was less barren, flowers littering the pavement below it. Daisy rolled her eyes.

Of course people still paid their respects here, in the open where they could be seen to be doing so before they headed back to their lives without a second thought. Of course they paid homage to a great passing without being bothered that the statues themselves looked nothing like the pair, the stone faces hollow and absent of warmth.

‘It’s the same every year,’ Remus muttered with contempt, tugging her along only the direction they turned got them to the end of Lily and James’ street and her feet stopped still on the pavement. Remus stopped too, watching her worriedly like he always did. They never got any further. She could never make her feet move onto the street. The street where her life had been turned upside down. The street where she had found out Harry was alive. The street where she’d lost him.

‘We don’t have to,’ Remus whispered, watching as her reddened, tear-stained face turned towards him, her big green eyes bloodshot and her nose snotty.

‘I can’t anyway,’ she admitted and with a nod he apparated, flinging them through the air and away from the ache and heartbreak.

When they landed they were outside a pub, tucked just down an alleyway at the side of it which kept them hidden from the hustle and bustle of the street beyond the dark alcove. There weren't many people out but there were still some milling around, costumes on as they enjoyed the holiday. After checking she was okay Remus took her hand and led her out into the streetlight, leading her into the pub. It was busier than the outside with patrons in most of the seats but they managed to snag a table in the back which Daisy sank into a seat murmuring a ‘thanks’ as Remus went off in search of a drink.

Once he was gone Daisy brushed the rest of the wetness from her cheeks and pushed her coat off hoping that she didn’t look too much of a mess that anyone would ask her if she was okay. Thankfully the pub was warm enough that her colour had started to return to normal and whatever remnants of tears that had clung under her chin had dried out. It also seemed as though everyone was too wrapped up in their own conversations to even notice her there which she should’ve guessed as she hadn’t spotted Remus coming back until he was on top of her placing two pints down on the table with a smile.

‘Thanks,’ she murmured as he dropped onto the wooden chair opposite her, peeling his coat off and hanging it on the back of his chair as she took a sip. It was tart but not unpleasant though as she felt the first rush of alcohol hit her she realised she probably should’ve eaten something today. Yet she was too exhausted to go and get a packet of crisp so she decided to pace herself instead and sunk back against her chair where she found Remus watching her from across the table.

‘Hey,’ he said with a smile.

‘Hi,’ she breathed, her throat dry and scratchy even with the pint which made her realise they’d barely talked the whole time they’d been together.

‘Never gets any easier does it?’ he asked, taking a sip of his own drink. Daisy swallowed thickly but thankfully tears didn’t appear. She doubted without drinking the entire thing in one she’d have anything to cry out now.

‘I keep thinking it will be and then we find ourselves here again and it’s like nothing’s changed,’ she replied earnestly.

‘Suppose it hasn’t in a way,’ Remus sighed, his mind flicking through the last nine years and finding nothing of note jumping out at him. The years trudged by in a blur of grey. No life or colour to any of it. In fact the only time he felt that pop of colour in his life was these moments, here with his friend. They were few and far between, her life not accommodating him in much bar a yearly rendezvous and a bimonthly phone call whenever Harry was in bed. They’d catch up, update each other on how nothing had happened and then they’d go back to the mundanity of it all.

Even so he found himself asking, ‘how are you?’

‘Good,’ she replied, forcing him to raise an eyebrow. Daisy rolled her eyes and smiled, ‘I’m good. Really.’

‘The shop?’ he asked, hoping it was doing okay. The record shops near him had dwindled quite a bit in recent years, the favour for modern technology killing small business owners if they didn’t make the transition to newer mediums. And that was in the heart of London let alone some tiny village in England’s countryside.

‘Surviving rather than thriving but it’s doing okay,’ she said earnestly. Remus nodded, thankful that it was at least something. See that was the thing about Daisy. At least she had things going on even in her muggle world. They’d both lost enough but she at least had a steady job. A family of sorts. He didn’t have much of anything these days which was why he was always so intrigued to hear about it.

‘And Harry?’ he asked, unable to picture anything but James on their first day of school. Of course he knew what Harry looked like, he’d seen pictures over the years which was always like a punch to the gut but thinking about him his mind always went to that cheeky pre-teen he’d once known.

‘He’s good,’ Daisy swallowed, thinking of the forlorn expression she’d left him with just days ago, ‘wasn’t too happy about being left with Tuney but needs must and all that.’

‘I’m sure it’s not that bad,’ Remus affirmed, earning a nod that she dismissed as quickly as it had come, unsubtly turning her sights on him and away from whatever she was thinking as she said, ‘what about you?’

‘Fine,’ Remus shrugged, taking another sip of lager.

‘You look skinny,’ she commented, noting the way the bones in his hand seemed to protrude under white skin. Remus tried not to shift under the scrutiny and rolled his eyes replying, ‘gee thanks Dais.’

‘I mean it,’ she said taking him in for the first time since they’d met up. He was always a beanpole, towering above her all the time she’d known him but now he looked painfully thin. His face older and tauter as his skin clung to its frame. Remus shifted nervously and muttered, ‘I always look skinny.’

‘Is that why you’re wearing two jumpers?’ she challenged, looking at his grey sleeve which was now protruding from the thicker knit he was wearing over the top. Remus tucked it away quickly.

‘It’s cold,’ he said dismissively, trying to ignore her eyes boring into his face.

‘Not that bloody cold,’ she reasoned, crossing her arms and waiting for him to explain. Remus sighed.

‘It’s not that big a deal.’

‘What’s not?’ she challenged, leaning in so that their conversation wouldn’t be over heard. Worry was creeping in now; the way he was deflecting unlike the straight-laced man she knew well. Remus took another sip of his drink and moved in closer, leaning his arms on the table as he said, ‘I lost my job.’

‘Moony why didn’t you say!’ she sighed sympathetically.

‘It’s alright,’ he protested, ‘I’ll get something else.’

‘But?’ she challenged, wondering what this had to do with double jumpers.

‘But in the meantime it’s just been a little hard keeping everything going,’ Remus reasoned, moving back from the scrutiny of her gaze as her brow furrowed.

‘You’ve not left the flat have you? Because I said you can have it it’s all paid for-’

‘Yeah but the utilities aren’t,’ Remus reasoned, her generosity to bequeath him a free home for the last nine years making his ear tinge pink. Like admitting an indiscretion to a parent who had entrusted you to be a grown up.

‘And that’s why you’re in two jumpers?’ she questioned. Remus shrugged, ‘heating and eating aren’t exactly cheap so it’s one or the other sometimes-’

‘You should’ve’ said!’ she gasped, unbothered as a couple of heads turned. Remus however flushed deep pink and leant forward hoping to stop her speaking so loudly she could be heard across the pub as he said in a hushed whisper, ‘it’s not your problem!’

At that Daisy looked aggrieved, her pretty features falling into a scowl as she leant in and she said as calmly as she could muster, ‘you are my friend. It most certainly is my problem.’

‘I’m not a charity case,’ Remus bit, leaning in too so that no one could hear them arguing.

‘And I’m not treating you like one!’ she snapped, ‘I’m treating you like a friend. What would James say if-’

‘Yeah well James isn’t here is he,’ Remus spat.

Daisy recoiled as if she’d been slapped, tears glistening off her lash line in an instant and threatening to spill over any moment. Remus went still as if only now just realising his words before he started to panic, worrying she was going to flee as he rushed out an apology, ‘Dais, Daisy I’m sorry. I don’t know what came over me I’m-’

‘It’s fine,’ Daisy lied, flopping back into her chair and wrapping her arms around her as she tried to hold herself together. Remus watched her panicking that they wouldn’t be able to move on from this sticking point. He hadn’t meant it to come out like that. He knew she worried about him, he worried about her too, but she had bigger things to be dealing with. He was thirty for crying out loud. He should be able to get his act together by now. After a moment she sniffled, grabbing a napkin out of the ceramic holder that housed cutlery and dabbing it to her eyes and nose, absorbing the moisture in an instance before she tucked it up her sleeve. When she finally looked at him he offered her a weak smile.

‘You should’ve said you know,’ she started, pausing to ensure another wave of tears didn’t hit, ‘I can help. I know the shops no Sleekeazy’s in money value but it could help. You could work for me if you wanted to, until you find something else.’

‘And when I can’t work for a week of the month due to my furry little problem, what then?’ he challenged. He knew where she was coming from. Just like the Potters she wouldn’t see him destitute but they had money and love to burn. Daisy refused to touch Harry’s inheritance so they managed on her job alone, he couldn’t threaten that even though she shrugged and said, ‘I wouldn’t care.’

‘But I would,’ he said firmly. Her hand was on the table now and he moved to clasp his large one over it hoping she would see he was okay. If not he’d convince her, something he tried to do as he said, ‘Dais it’s okay. I’ll find something.’

‘I know I just worry,�� she said.

‘Don’t have to worry about me,’ he said, patting her gently before pulling back, ‘besides you have bigger things to worry about. Harry for one, he’s starting school next time right?’

‘Yep,’ she sniffled, ‘first year.’

‘Blimey,’ he chuckled, ‘doesn't feel like there has been enough time since we left. Then again it feels like a lifetime ago all at once.’

‘Tell me about it,’ she sighed, her finger trailing along the condensation on her glass as she mumbled, ‘I don’t feel old enough to have a nephew that age.’

They fell quiet for a moment, both thinking about the time that had passed. Daisy could still remember finding out about Harry when he was no more than two lines on a stick. James had been out on order business and Lily had rung her frantically, the girls both finding a muggle telephone a quick way of communicating even if it did take some getting used to in magical households. She begged her to come over and worried something was wrong Daisy had dropped everything and rushed over to the Potters only to have a pregnancy test thrust in her face the moment she was there. It had all felt too soon. Daisy hadn’t understood their rush to get married or this need for a baby in the times they were in but she’d supported them anyway. And the news had brought some happiness to their family and friends, a hope of better things to come when all felt lost.

Daisy felt tears returning but she forced them back as Remus cleared his throat whatever was on his mind bubbling to the surface as he tried to think of how to express it.

‘Have you told him yet?’ he asked. Daisy sighed.

‘I was going to wait till his birthday,’ she explained. After all he still had another eight months of school and they’d done well to keep a lid on it thus far. She didn’t want him to blab. Then again she wasn’t entirely sure it wasn’t so that she would only face a month of scrutiny and questions before she could ship him off to school. A coward's way out.

‘Are you going to tell him everything?’ Remus asked gently. He wasn’t looking at her, rubbing the condensation off his own pint and onto the beer mat below it and turning the cardboard from a bright green to a dark green as it became soggy. When Daisy hesitated he looked up.

‘I don’t know…I don’t know how to or what to leave out,’ she admitted, ‘it’s a big thing and it’s not as if they give you a handbook on it.’

‘No I know,’ he replied sympathetically. Daisy laughed mirthlessly as if there was some joke he wasn’t in on when he raised an eyebrow she muttered, ‘Lily would know. She’d just know how to handle it all.’

‘For what it’s worth Dais, you’ve done a pretty good job as it is,’ he said, moving his hand back to hers and allowing her to grasp it. A shaky breath followed.

‘So why do I feel like he’s going to hate me?’ she breathed, dropping her gaze to the table as tears did start to flow. Remus reached for another serviette and handed it to her as he refuted, ‘Dais he wouldn’t.’

‘Wouldn’t he?’ she challenged, wiping her face she said, ‘I’ve lied to him his whole life.’

‘You had to,’ Remus said firmly, ‘you saw that memorial. People still coming all these years later and for what? To try and pry? To pretend and poke and prod at something that’s nothing to do with them? Imagine if he was there what would they do, hound and harass him. How would that be fair to him or you for that matter.’

‘But magic,’ she protested, ‘he should’ve been raised like James-’

‘He should’ve been raised by James,’ Remus said firmly, trying to show he wasn’t being as harsh as he sounded as he continued, ‘but he wasn’t. He couldn’t be and that’s a travesty I admit but Daisy you did the best you could with what you had. You have loved him as fiercely as they would’ve. You’ve been there for him like they would’ve the same way you are there for your friends even when they give you stick for trying,’ he joked making her laugh just a little, ‘Daisy you’ve raised him to the best of your ability. It was an unfathomable situation and you’ve made the best of it. And he’ll understand that. He’ll understand that the sacrifices you chose to make were for the best.’

‘You’re pretty clever you know that,’ she sniffled, the ghost of a smile on her lips. Remus chuckled.

‘Second cleverest in my year I’ll have you know,’ he joked.

The pair fell quiet for a moment, the only thing to be heard was the hustle and bustle of the patrons in the pub chattering away, the thump of ‘the monster mash’ playing through the speaker system low enough it didn’t disturb anyone, and the sounds of pints being pulled. It was a nice sentiment and one Daisy hoped would be true. She’d been thinking about it a lot as her deadline came creeping ever closer. Because as excited as she had been to get back to her world she was scared that once Harry saw all she had kept from him, his entire life, it would ruin everything they’d made. She was worried he’d hate her.

Especially if he knew the whole story. And that was what Remus seemed to be thinking of as he cleared his throat again, capturing his attention as he shuffled forward, dropping his voice lower as he asked, ‘are you going to tell him about…you know?’

‘No,’ Daisy said firmly.

‘Are you sure?’ Remus probed, ‘I mean won’t he have questions. There’s bound to be pictures or stories-’

‘I can’t. He wouldn’t understand,’ she said flatly. There weren’t going to be any pictures because she’d got rid of them all, packing them into the storage facility where they’d dumped all his clothes and belongings. She’d curated the memories of her sister and brother-in-law in a way that cut him out of the picture all together. As if he never existed. Because that was the only way she could think of it. If she got bogged down in the hows and whys she spiralled, her brain returning to that first bout of doubt she’d had upon hearing the news and that didn’t help anyone. So she pretended it never happened at all. It was simply a street she couldn’t bear to go down. Remus’ face was sympathetic as he watched her but she didn’t falter because this wasn’t a matter he could truly understand even if he pretended to by offering her the tried and tested, ‘he played us all Dais.’

‘But we didn’t all sleep in his bed every night,’ she challenged, her mouth going dry as she saw the pity in her friend's eyes. It was easy for him to say because he’d had his suspicions before any of it had happened. Daisy had been so blindly in love she’d allowed him to fool her. She was the reason they were in this predicament. She was the reason she saw Remus once a year. She was the reason she and Harry had to live as muggles, hidden away from their own kind. And she didn’t want to think of that so she said, pleading in her voice, ‘can we talk about something else?’

‘Of course,’ Remus said.

It took a moment to unstick the conversation but eventually it petered into an amiable chat oiled by plenty more pints before the pair stumbled back to the Leaky Cauldron well in the early hours.

The following morning was quite the struggle. Even if she hadn’t felt as though her head was full of rocks and her mouth was made of sand, the sheer furnace of Remus in the bed beside her was enough to make her feel unwell. Of course nothing had transpired between them even if the inn keeper had raised an eyebrow as she’d followed him down the stairs to breakfast but it was better to have him think that than to admit that every year the pair of them found themselves needing that closeness. That every year they needed someone to make them feel as though they weren’t utterly alone in everything. Even if he was roasting hot and snored like a dog.

There was little chatter as the pair of them ate breakfast and it didn’t pick up even as they apparated across country and found a florist before letting themselves into the small cemetery as rain drizzled from above. 

Peter’s grave wasn’t big. Given that there wasn’t a body to bury it was little more than a flat piece of stone in the ground with a name and too soon date carved into it. This time Daisy had picked the flowers, opting for bright ones of yellow and orange, the colour of the Chudley Cannons – his favourite team. Unlike at Marlene’s graveside she didn’t say anything but neither did Remus. Neither of them knew why but eventually it started to rain too hard to even stand out in the graveyard anymore and so the pair of them trudged back through the rain and found a pub.

The afternoon was subdued with the majority of their time spent in the pub, Remus reading and Daisy watching people come and go through the village as her mind whirred. And yet it wasn’t unpleasant. Sure she had a lot to think about but being with someone made it feel better somehow. She wasn’t even mad about getting the eye from the innkeeper again as they returned to the Leaky Cauldron. In fact the only time she felt bad was the following morning when Remus informed her he couldn’t stay any longer, their four days together cut short by the full moon that night and his subsequent recuperation at home. She’d told him it was fine and that she’d come to the flat if he needed her but he’d shrugged her off and told her it was okay though she suspected that was more to do with the hollow way her voice sounded at the idea of stepping into what she had once called home.

Another street she didn’t go down.

So finding herself with a free diary she decided there was no point sticking around, even if she would miss the magic, and headed back to Petunia’s. Harry opened the door, his eyes going wide with excitement as he realised who it was, flinging himself head first into her chest as he wrapped his arms around her.

‘Hi kiddo,’ she chucked, stroking his hair in a way that barely made a dent in the haphazardness of it all, ‘miss me?’

‘Definitely,’ he smiled as he pulled back. Daisy smiled too though it dimmed as Petunia appeared in the doorway, confusion on her face as Daisy said, ‘hi Tuney.’

‘You’re back early,’ she stated.

‘Managed to get some cover,’ Daisy lied, ‘thought I’d come today and get Harry. Save you being put out for the whole week.’

‘Well we’ve already arranged having him now so I don’t suppose it makes a difference,’ Petunia replied, the response being the truth and yet still feeling barbed. Daisy ignored it as Dudley appeared at his mother’s shoulder with a smile on his face as he said, ‘wait are we going out today?’

‘Have you picked something?’ Daisy challenged.

‘Just the cinema,’ Dudley beamed, ‘there’s this new film out it looks really cool.’

‘Well I’m up for that. Harry?’ she asked, earning a nod though the boy looked just happy to be leaving the house than going anywhere. Daisy looked at her sister and asked, ‘if that’s okay with you?’

‘Fine,’ Petunia replied.

‘Great,’ Daisy said, forcing a smile as she told the boys, ‘well go and get your stuff and we can go.’

As the pair rushed into the house to grab bags, coats and shoes Daisy and Petunia loitered on the door step, her beady eyes drifting past her sister to where the curtains were twitching across the road. Daisy paid them no attention. She didn’t intend to go in the house.

‘How was your week?’ Petunia asked after a minute.

‘Fine,’ Daisy said, earning a nod. They could hear them inside the house their rushing about audible from down the stairs but nevertheless Petunia dropped her voice just in case they might be heard, ‘it doesn’t get easier does it.’

‘Not at all,’ Daisy agreed.

‘I’m sorry about the other day,’ the brunette said quietly, ‘I just worry-‘’

‘We all do,’ Daisy said, ‘but it’s his world Tuney. Our world.’

‘I know,’ she replied, ‘but at least in this one we both lost her.’

Daisy looked at her expecting to find a blubbering mess, the way she felt at her words but her sister remained poised and stoic as if she hadn't just uttered her heartbreak on the doorstep. She didn’t even falter as Dudley rushed past, Harry a step behind him looking just like James in the way he beamed an eager smile and waited for the off.

‘Be back in a couple of hours yeah?’ Daisy said, earning a stiff nod before the door was closed in her face as she shepherded the boys to the car. Dudley chattered her ear off throughout the whole thing, telling her every bit of the film in detail before they’d even watched it, apparently having read the book beforehand. She didn’t even get to say as much as a hello to Harry until they were locked back in the car trundling back to Cokeworth after a long week. As she merged onto the motorway she turned the stereo down and looked at him, his excitement now deflated after a long couple of hours with his cousin.

‘So how was your week?’ she asked, waiting until he looked at her and shrugged before she looked back at the road.

‘Boring and long,’ he replied.

‘Well it’s a good job we’re going back to the real world of work and school and all that excitement then eh?’ she ribbed. Harry smiled and rolled his eyes before he asked, ‘did you have fun without me?’

‘Not at all,’ Daisy said. It was true she may have relished in Remus’ company but she hadn't had fun per se. It was just nice to have someone who understood it all. Even having her magic back hadn't been fun but rather crucial. Like a necessity rather than a want.

‘I know what you were doing you know,’ he said, snapping her attention though she didn’t look his way feigning ignorance as she said, ‘huh?’

‘I know you didn’t have work,’ he explained, ‘I heard Aunt Petunia talking. It was mum and dad’s anniversary right?’

‘Harry,’ Dasy started.

‘It’s okay,’ he jumped in, ‘if you didn’t want me to be there so I didn’t feel sad… I get it.’

‘It’s not easy,’ she started, keeping her eyes fixed on the road though she could feel him watching her. Of course he knew what she was up to, he was too nosey for his own good just like his bloody father. And too understanding just like his mother. Whilst she’d been worried he would be angry at her he was the perfect blend of them and too lovely for his own good which made her feel more guilty as she said, ‘I just don’t want you to feel like you have to be sad or angry or well anything really. I didn’t want to make a big deal out of it…and make you feel like you have to look after me.’

‘It’s okay but maybe next year we could do something together instead of me going to Petunia’s?’ he said watching her expectantly, ‘I’ll be eleven then. I can look after myself.’

She glanced at him and smiled, ‘maybe…but that’s for next year, deal?’

‘Deal,’ he agreed, turning the stereo back up as he settled back in his seat.

Daisy looked back into the pouring rain and sighed. She hoped he was right. She hoped eleven was old enough to have the burdens she lived with mounted onto his young shoulders. She hoped he’d be alright with everything he was yet to know. Most of all she hoped he wouldn’t hate her.

SIRIUS BLACK/SERIES TAGS

@mysteriouslydelicateface @caitlin1996 @imthebadguyyy @maeisafangirl

[dhr-ao3]

Draco Malfoy Superstar

Draco Malfoy Superstar https://ift.tt/5IV2eHp by crrrybaby Draco Malfoy is a superstar. He's on top of the world, and everyone loves him. So why does he feel lonely? Post-war slice-of-life during a time of political unease, featuring angsty young adults navigating their love lives, healing traumas, and figuring out the future. With a dash of rock music. Words: 12812, Chapters: 2/?, Language: English Fandoms: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling Rating: Mature Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con Categories: F/F, F/M, Gen, M/M Characters: Draco Malfoy, Hermione Granger, Harry Potter, Ron Weasley, Ginny Weasley, Neville Longbottom, Weasley Family (Harry Potter), Molly Weasley, Arthur Weasley, George Weasley, Charlie Weasley, Percy Weasley, Bill Weasley, Narcissa Black Malfoy, Lucius Malfoy, Luna Lovegood, Lavender Brown, Parvati Patil, Pansy Parkinson, Theodore Nott, Blaise Zabini, Kingsley Shacklebolt, Dolores Umbridge, Original Muggle Character(s), Original Male Character(s), Original Female Character(s), Real Life Character(s), Padma Patil, Dean Thomas, Seamus Finnigan, Alice Longbottom, Frank Longbottom, Granger Family (Harry Potter) Relationships: Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy, Hermione Granger/Ron Weasley, Harry Potter/Ginny Weasley, Neville Longbottom/Pansy Parkinson, Draco Malfoy/Theodore Nott, Hermione Granger & Original Male Character(s), Draco Malfoy/Original Female Character(s), Lavender Brown/Parvati Patil Additional Tags: Slice of Life, Post-War, Post-Hogwarts, Romance, Drama, Mental Health Issues, Healing, Slow Burn, Eventual Romance, Eventual Relationships, Eventual Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy, Angst, Redemption, POV Draco Malfoy, POV Multiple, Ministry of Magic (Harry Potter), Politics, Death Eaters, Famous Draco Malfoy, Rock Stars, Rock Star Draco Malfoy, Musician Draco Malfoy, Wizarding Rock, Wizarding Politics (Harry Potter), Drug Abuse, Late 90's, Pining Hermione Granger, Draco Malfoy is Bad at Feelings, Draco Malfoy Needs a Hug, Past Draco Malfoy/Theodore Nott, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Borderline Personality Disorder, Depression via AO3 works tagged 'Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy' https://ift.tt/vBCj69y June 25, 2024 at 09:47PM

[rpings]

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MOROSEis a premium, 21+, au marauders era roleplay set in the year 1985. We have an in-profile shipper application, and our site features unique curses, creature types, locations, faction teams, and upcoming long and short term mission assignments for factions, ministry, and media personnel.

Open canons include; James Potter, Peter Pettigrew, Emmeline Vance, Dorcas Meadowes, Mary MacDonald, Marlene McKinnon, Bellatrix Black, Andromeda Black, Narcissa Black, Ted Tonks, Frank & Alice Longbottom, Alastor Moody, Rodolphus & Rabastan Lestrange, and many more!!

After the early death of Albus Dumbledore, Tom Riddle rises to prominence, becoming a respected Defense Against the Dark Arts professor and later, Minister for Magic. Using his influence, Riddle hides his identity as Voldemort, while secretly advancing his dark agenda. He frames the Order of the Phoenix as radicals, enforces discriminatory laws against muggleborns, and discovers an ancient spell with the potential to wipe out all Muggles. The Order, led by Minerva McGonagall and the Marauders, fights a desperate underground resistance against Voldemort's oppressive regime, soon to discover whispers of a prophecy that hints of a future savior.

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[unwoundcorridors]

prompt #29: storm

pairing: narcissa/alice word count: 876

❈ written for @sapphicmicrofics ❈

—

Lightning lit up the pitch black gardens of the manor while thunder nearly shook the floor beneath her feet, rain pounding against the grounds outside. Narcissa didn’t move from the window, though, instead catching her countenance illuminated by the flashes of lightning every few seconds. Lucius was locked away in his private study, working on Ministry matters, and Draco was sleeping in his crib just across the hall from her, his room soundproofed to the storm raging outside.

Her mind drifted at the thought of her son, and her throat tightened at where it landed: another boy, only a month or so younger than her own, without his mother to tend to him. She still remembered the last time she and Alice had met, sequestered in a corner booth in a hole-in-the-wall establishment that lent itself to confidential gatherings. Even so, Narcissa had placed a glamour on her facial features so that everyone but Alice wouldn’t know who she was.

“Don’t tell me you don’t wish our sons could grow up together properly,” Alice had said, hooking one of her pinkie fingers around Narcissa’s on top of the table sitting between them. Alice’s hazel eyes plaintively pierced Narcissa, and she shut her own as Alice’s finger stroked her skin. When she opened them again, she worried her lip as traitorous images of Draco and Neville as playmates entered her mind.

Officially, she and Alice were on different sides of this conflict. Or rather, better put, war. Alice was a bloody Auror, or rather had been before taking an indefinite leave to give birth and tend to her newborn son. Meanwhile, Narcissa was bloody well married to a literal Death Eater. She shouldn’t even meet with Alice at all, yet letters scrambled with magic still passed between the Malfoy and Longbottom homes, and Narcissa had yet to toss any correspondence from Alice into a lit fireplace like she knew she should. Nor had she had the heart or willpower to turn down this particular invite to see Alice in person again.

In a different world, perhaps they could have raised their sons together. Yet would that have been enough to satiate the both of them? To stay married to their husbands and continue an illicit affair? Or at least illicit on Narcissa’s side, as Lucius knew not a thing of her continued interactions with an Order member. Alice had told her that Frank was all for “bringing another Black sister onto the right side of things,” even going so far as being accepting to the reality of an open marriage.

It was a fool’s dream, and Narcissa had finally tugged her pinkie away from Alice and told her as such.

“You and Frank may gallivant around in this fool’s dreamscape as much as you like, but I cannot join you.”

Alice’s face had fallen a little at the biting words, but she’d continued to hold Narcissa’s gaze, asking, “Cannot or will not?”

Unable to hide her grimace completely, Narcissa had turned her head away so quickly that she almost strained a muscle. Hard rain fell onto the cobblestone street outside of the establishment they’d met in, and after masking her emotions, she’d looked back at Alice with a made-up excuse for leaving. Alice, someone who had never even tried to hide her emotions—instead openly choosing to wear them on her sleeve like the almost Gryffindor-Hufflepuff hatstall she’d been—had caught Narcissa’s wrist as she stood from their table, the din of other muffled conversations around them transforming into a muted buzz as Alice got to her feet as well and pulled Narcissa to her, one hand grasping the back of Narcissa’s head, fingers entangled in locks of honeyed blonde.

It was a shock to her system, Alice’s lips on hers for the first time in months. For a moment, Narcissa almost forgot where they were, a whimper bleeding into Alice’s mouth, but as soon and her mind caught up to their surroundings, her fingers stiffened up, curled almost like claws, and she wrenched herself away. She couldn’t—they couldn’t—

“Please don’t,” was all she managed to say before she left. Ran out into the rain to disapparate, more like. Because that’s what she was good at. Running away.

Narcissa’s vision blurred as she stared out of the window of Malfoy Manor unblinkingly. Her fingers ghosted over her bottom lip, recalling the passion that Alice had poured into that last kiss. A tiny whimper, not unlike the one that she’d vocalised at that establishment months ago, escaped her, and she wondered if she’d ever cease to associate rain with fleeing from the only woman she had ever once seen a future with.

Gallivanting around in a fool’s dreamscape… Narcissa laughed, a hollow and forlorn sound. She had denied the truth of the matter for too long: she had, in fact, always been a fool when it came to Alice Longbottom, née Fawley. She would simply need to learn to completely shut it all away, because in this new world—a world in which the Potters’ son had recently vanquished the Dark Lord, a world in which Alice and Frank were tortured into insanity by a group of Death Eaters including her sister—such foolishness had no place.