#he invented a charm for his nails to go bare when a professor was looking

[basiatlu]

Day 18: Stuffed

“Smell ya later, Snivellus!!”

A few years before Snape became the resident Office Goth at Hogwarts.

[dontthrowsticksatme]

Chapter two of my Draco POV-fic is up (link in source)! It tells the Harry Potter-books from Draco’s perspective with Drarry added in. Here’s a scene from the new chapter:

Draco couldn’t have imagined hating anyone more than that tosser Ron Weasley, but his little sister truly took the crown. The Weasley-girl kept eyeing Harry Potter wherever he went, staring like he was a famous piece of art at best, and a glass of water in the middle of a dessert at worst. It was embarrassing for everyone.

‘Want to bet how fast they end up together?’ Draco complained, sitting in the library with Pansy. ‘She’s basically a female version of his dense bodyguard.’

‘Who?’ Pansy had the audacity to ask.

Draco slammed his hand in the direction of the Weasley-girl, who was blatantly ogling Harry from behind a bookcase.

Harry Potter obviously didn’t notice. He was cluelessly giggling at one thing or another, and playing some dumb game with the Monkey Weasley, while Granger slaved away on her homework as usual.

‘Oh Malfoy, please, the girl doesn’t talk,’ Pansy said. ‘Now Romilda Vane, that’s your true rival in this game.’

‘Rotilda’s fugly,’ Draco grumbled. ‘What game? What are you insinuating here exactly?’

She looked at him with a knowing smile, that told Draco absolutely nothing.

Meanwhile, the Weasley twins gathered around Granger, Weasley and Potter, as if the family wasn’t smothering him enough already. The Weasley Girl was still watching too.

‘Merde, I wish that blood traitor family would stop suffocating him.’

‘He doesn’t seem suffocated.’

‘Yes, he does,’ snapped Draco. ‘He looks tired.’

‘Oh Merlin, Draco! Why don’t you join their group, or something? So you could suffocate him.’

‘I loathe them all.’

‘Just go up to him and ask if he wants to play Quidditch with you, or Wizard Chess or anything. I bet he says yes at once, he’s so eager for you.’

Draco scowled at her. ‘You don’t simply walk up to Harry J. Potter.’

‘Weak little boy.’

He glared at her.

‘Oh,’ said Pansy, eyes aglow, ‘did you know the Bastards have a codename for you?’

“The Bastards” was Pansy’s way to indicate their professors.

‘They call you and Potter “Crimson & Clover”.’

‘Me-and-Potter?’ Draco sneered. ‘You’re joking.’

‘I am not. I heard them talk about “Crimson and Clover” fighting on the stairs, right after you and Potter had been fighting there. It wasn’t a brain wrecker to decipher.’

For a second, Draco didn’t know what to say. ‘They – They talk about Potter and me behind our backs? Do they have a nickname for everyone Potter hangs out with?’

‘Don’t think so.’

Crimson and Clover… It sounded alright. It wouldn’t have mattered really, they could have called them Dumb and Dumber for all Draco cared, as long as they lumped him together with The Boy Who Lived.

‘Clover because of his eyes?’ he wondered out loud.

Pansy had to muffle her laughter with both hands.

Draco blinked, then realized. His face felt hot. ‘Oh! No!’

Crimson for Gryffindor, Clover for Slytherin!

‘Please, can you forget I said that?’

‘Never,’ shrieked Pansy. ‘Boy oh boy, you’re so weak for him!’

‘Shut up!’

Pansy was crying with laughter. This conversation sickened Draco. It was all too weird.

‘That’s it, I’m out.’

Gathering his stuff, he swaggered out of the library. ‘Potter,’ he hissed in passing while firing a slapping charm.

Harry was so heavily surrounded by Weasleys that he didn’t notice Draco in time. His head bopped forward, Draco jeered, and at once, all the gingers stepped aside, pointing their wands at Draco. None so accomplished in the art of self-defence as Harry, he easily beat them all to it. Whirling around, he made the ink of Granger’s ink pot float out, and hurled it at Draco.

With a loud gasp, Draco looked down at his once bright white shirt. Harry, all the gingers and even Pansy laughed so hysterically that Madame Pince dashed up to them. She gasped even louder than Draco at the sight of his shirt and sent him outside with a shrieked, ‘No tomfoolery with ink around books!’

Harry jumped up. ‘Wait, Dra, I know how to clean – ’

‘You think I don’t know?’ snapped Draco.

Harry groaned, grabbing Draco’s sleeve. ‘Will I ever be able to impress you?’

Standing outside, away from everyone, Draco put away his wand and lifted his arms. ‘Hit me with your best shot.’

With a face like he invented the spell himself, Harry Scorgified Draco’s blouse. It worked barely a little, but Harry seemed delighted.

Draco looked down at his shirt. ‘Good grief, Potter, you suck. You would not look so proud of this half-arsed job if you knew my mother even in the slightest.’

Harry grinned. ‘Then I’m glad I don’t.’

Draco Scorgified the shirt properly. ‘What game were you playing with the Weasel?’

‘Ron, you mean. Hangman; it’s a Muggle game.’

Draco scoffed. ‘Living Hangman’s way better. Especially if you use Muggles.’

Harry’s eyes grew big, until he recognised Draco’s jeering face. He smiled in relief. ‘You’re horrible.’

Harry lingered, watching Draco Scorgify. It encouraged Draco. Mustering up the nerve, he took a deep breath and in his most bored drawl he asked: ‘Fancy a game of Quidditch later?’

‘Yes!’ Harry’s face clouded over. ‘Oh, but I’m not allowed.’

Draco frowned.

‘Our Captain doesn’t want us to share techniques with the other teams.’

‘It’s not sharing techniques,’ Draco scoffed.

‘He literally stared me straight in the eye and said “No flying in front of Malfoy!” It was scary, like he read my mind.’

Draco tried not to grin. What exactly had been in Potter’s mind, he wondered.

He wrecked his brain for a loophole in Wood’s ban, but couldn’t think of anything. ‘Merlin, that sucks…’

Harry muttered another ‘Scorgify’, aimed at Draco’s hair. Then, frowning, he lifted his hand. ‘It doesn’t go out, stand still…’

He scratched some ink out of Draco’s hair. Draco felt a great swoop in his stomach; like he was diving fast with his Nimbus Two Thousand And One.

‘There,’ Harry mumbled, his fingers covered in ink stains.

Harry Potter was such a scruffy kid, Mother would never allow someone like him even near the Manor. His fingernails had black lines underneath them, his leisurewear was oversized, faded and threadbare, his thick, cheap glasses seemed to have been poorly repaired at least a dozen times, and his crackling, black hair was full of tangles, like he hadn’t allowed a comb near it in years.

Meanwhile, his grass green eyes stood out between two thick layers of ink black eyelashes and seemed almost luminous beneath his dark, shading eyebrows. He looked like a mix of Heathcliff and Peter Pan, who, unfortunately, just happened to be two of Draco’s favourite fictional characters.

‘Sorry,’ Harry muttered when he saw Draco staring at his dirty nails. He tried cleaning the ink from his fingers with a bit of spit. ‘Looked pretty cool though, didn’t it? The ink floating through the air?’  

‘I suppose,’ Draco drawled, trying with all his might to keep his awe in check.

‘Right…’ Harry put his hands in his pocket, and turned to leave. Looking over his shoulder, his magnificent eyes swept over Draco from head to toe one last time. ‘See you around, Malfoy.’

And with that, he abandoned Draco again, leaving him standing in the middle of an empty corridor, alone with his screaming thoughts, feeling nauseous and hot.

Why was Draco so hell-bent to befriend the one person at Hogwarts he couldn’t and shouldn’t befriend? And why was it so difficult?

[crimsonrevolt]

Congratulations Bret you’ve been accepted to Crimson Revolt as Peter Pettigrew!

↳ please refer to our character checklist

We were so happy to see your application in our inbox! Your application shone with your amazing writing and the thought that you’ve put into Peter. It’s been a joy to see him before -- and it’s going to be amazing seeing how you develop him further Your para sample was a joy to read -- especially how you delved into Peter’s mindset and how he views the world so differently from the rest of the Marauders -- and even starting with your reason for choosing him as a second character, it was clear that you had a handle on how tragic his story can be and how isolated Peter feels. 

application beneath the cut

OUT OF CHARACTER

INTRODUCTION

Bret, Twenty Five, EST. She/Her.

ACTIVITY

7/10. I plan on dividing my threads between days, so a few on each character depending on what amount of muse I have. I think I could do a lot between the two characters because of all of the time I’ve accumulated this summer. And even if my girlfriend has my computer for work, I’ve rebooted hers so I’ll just use this ole piece of dust.

TRIGGERS

*removed for privacy

HOW DID YOU FIND US?

Originally it was through a member, but I’ve been here for ages!

WHAT HARRY POTTER CHARACTER DO YOU IDENTIFY WITH MOST?

Arabella Figg. Before this roleplay I was obsessed with her homely nature, and how willing she was to protect Harry. Plus, her love for kneazles definitely is equal to mine with kittens. But now that I play her, and I’ve fleshed her out, I’m realizing how much she truly is like me. Of course that comes with playing her, but it doesn’t matter. I identify with her so, so much.  

ANYTHING ELSE?

Nope!

IN CHARACTER

DESIRED CHARACTER

Peter Pettigrew

FACE CLAIM

Dane DeHaan

REASON FOR CHOSEN CHARACTER

Peter Pettigrew is an insanely under appreciated character that deserves to be explored.

Aside from his involvement with the Marauders, his defection from the Order during the first war, and his involvement in the second, we don’t know much about him. Introverted, clumsy, and not very clever - those are the few traits the books give him. But what draws me to his character is that there is much more to him beneath the surface that has yet to be touched. I don’t believe that Peter is as cowardly as people make him to be, but I also don’t believe he is incredibly intelligent. I think he’s a hoarder, he’s exhausted, and he’s not very friendly to strangers.

Hogwarts, in my opinion, was a difficult time for him and after graduation he was lost and grasping to find a niche he belonged to. That isolation is a small fragment of the reason that he joined the Death Eaters, though reluctantly. They didn’t accept him but they made him feel important. Enough so that he was willing to pretend his friends no longer mattered, though the three were always nagging at the corners of his brain. Peter is a character who needs people to guide him, comfort him, and make him feel special.

He’s a young boy in the midst of a war, barely out of school, and confused about his life path. The decisions he makes are rash and thoughtless, all because he’s just a teenager, and they all come to bite him later in life. I want to explore his descent into the Death Eaters and becoming a spy, his relationships, and his entire life now that the war is at a climax.

PREFERRED SHIPS // CHARACTER SEXUALITY // GENDER & PRONOUNS

Peter/Chemistry. He/Him.

Peter is a closeted bisexual. He believes that homosexuality is immoral because that was what his father pressed whenever he asked about other boys. When he was younger he was envious of their looks and their nature, and sometimes he found envy turning to lust. But always he would remind himself that to be attracted to boys would make his father furious and suddenly Peter would throw himself at girls. And their rejection made him isolated and scared, and the cycle would begin again. Now that his father is dead and his mother hasn’t spoken to him, Peter is more liable to give in to temptation. But as of now the war matters more than sex or love, both of which he has never tasted.

CREATE ONE (OR MORE!) OF THE FOLLOWING FOR YOUR CHARACTER:

Headcanons.

001. Honeydukes is the only place that Peter truly misses from his Hogsmeade trips. Lemon drops, peppermint sticks, chocolate frogs, and Bertie Botts. He remembers the trips through snow and falling leaves and warm cobblestone. His memory is flooded with laughter and giving and the gentle touch of a friend. Honeydukes was never just a shop of sweets and childhood happiness, it was the one place that had never been tainted by a bad Professor or embarrassing moment. He clings to it dearly even after others have forgotten.

002. After his father died, his mother stopped responding to his letters. It had come as a surprise for Peter to find his owls returned empty handed because he considered himself to have been rather close with his mom. Now he continues to write her in the hopes that she will come back to him, but in the meantime it has inspired him to find work and make a living. He wants to impress her should she find her way back into his life.

IN CHARACTER QUESTIONNAIRE

♔ If you were able to invent one spell, potion, or charm, what would it do, what would you use it for or how would you use it? Feel free to name it:

“Invisibility. I want to be a fly on the wall sometimes. Rats aren’t small enough to hide forever and my friends already know what I look like, y'know? I only want a potion that wears off after a few hours, but nothing disgusting. I bloody want one that tastes like peppermint, or coffee, or something sweet. And it would be smooth and work without pain. Just invisibility without any strings. I wouldn’t name it! Otherwise people would find out and they’d steal it from me. I’d never want that.”

♔ You have to venture deep into the Forbidden Forest one night. Pick one other character and one object (muggle or magical), besides your wand, that you’d want with you:

“I have to pick one person? Remus has always been the nicest towards me…as an individual. But I would like everyone there. Sirius and James, too, though they’d make jokes about me being a bloody coward. And I am, alright? I don’t want to go ink the Forbidden Forest at night. I never have. As for what I’d bring…whatever James needed me to. I could only imagine we’re going in there for one of his schemes, or Sirius’ pranks. I’d just have whatever they need.”

♔ What kinds of decisions are the most difficult for you to make?

“What to do, when to do it. I used to believe I was independent but I’ve never been, not really. I’ve always needed someone to guide me. I just bloody wish I was normal, like my mates. I can barely take care of myself and they’re having full lives.”

♔ What is one thing you would never want said about you?

“That I’m dumb. People always assume that because my marks were bad, that I’m stupid. Well, I am. But they’re not allowed to say it, right? I need to hold some dignity. Only my mates can say it because they’re just taking the piss. It’s normal. Other people saying it will make me…Merlin, I’m not bloody violent. Not really. I won’t do anything…I just don’t want them to say it.”

WRITING SAMPLE

The world was black, and white, and smelled of mud.

Peter felt the lasting tug of freedom as he scuttled down the corridor and felt the coolness of stone beneath his paw pads. The soft clack of long nails were the only sound invading the heavy silence of the air, but he was sure no human would think twice about it. Another old house settling into its foundation, creating creepy noises in its wake. He was just another sound to the people in that room, he was just another creature lost among the hundreds of things surviving in the towering building.

A sharp left and he found himself face to face with a slightly ajar door, the wood warped from years of deprivation and unable to close entirely. He could see the splinters that would catch in his amber fur and embed in the flesh of his back, but this was for the greater good and he would manage through the pain. It was nothing in comparison to what his mates had done previously on their own missions, or what he would be asked to do in the future.

Who would he be spying on next?

The thought stopped him, and Peter felt his heart thundering in his chest. The Order trusted him but they didn’t give him the incentive that he wanted. It wasn’t enough to fight for equality and justice, it wasn’t enough to get a pat on the back when he didn’t completely fuck something up. He wanted real pride, and danger, and the sweet taste of adrenaline. But the thought of his friends had him questioning what had gone wrong in his childhood to make him okay with betrayal. Would he ever truly be happy? What if it came down to murder, or a duel, or looking at James and telling him you were never meant to be good?

He forced himself to move and slid under the door, refraining from eliciting a noise as the splinters tore into his back. Later he would ask Remus to pluck them out and he would smile and pretend that the mission went beautifully. Later he would tell them that he hadn’t thought twice about eavesdropping on the Death Eaters.

Later he would lie and give them false information.

His human form was uncomfortable and awkward as he emerged from his rat body. The group would be in the next room, but he had chosen to come as an Animagus to avoid being seen until that moment. A silver mask was affixed to his face but it made breathing impossibly difficult and he ached to take it off. This wasn’t him, his head screamed. This was not Peter Pettigrew of the Order who followed his mates around every day.

This boy was nothing like that child, and he doubted he’d ever be allowed to go back.