#he was so offended you would think merlin had just tried to murder someone
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belbel19 · 9 months ago
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arthur pendragon is the first "where my hug at" guy to ever exist
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themarvelmarauder · 3 years ago
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7 minutes in heaven
It was pouring outside. It was the weekend and they couldn't even go outside.
"C'mon you two, don't be so upset!" Mary spoke to James and Sirius as they pouted looking out the window.
"Boys we're playing the kissing game or whatever it's called, get down here! Oh and Regulus is here!" Marlene called up. At the sound of Regulus' name, James jumped up and raced down stairs.
"Bloody hell, sometimes I wonder how Regulus doesn't notice James has a crush on him," Mary said under her breath following the rest of the boys.
"Hey Reggie!" Sirius said as he made his way to the common room and Regulus just nodded in return as he continued to talk to Marlene about something. James heart stopped for a moment when he saw what regulus was wearing, a white blouse and black jeans. He knew this is what he wore most days, but damn he looked good.
"K everyone knows the rules I'm guessing?" Dorcas asked.
"Actually I don't," Lily said as she laid her head in Mary's lap.
"Ok so, whoever's go it is has to spin the wand, when it lands on someone they spin the wheel to see if they are having a quick peck, a kiss, a quick snog or going in the cupboard for seven minutes for a long snog," Peter explained to Lily.
"Ok I'll go first!" Marlene stated as she spun the wand.
"Oh my god ew! No way in hell!" Marlene yelled when the wand landed on Sirius.
"I'm not exactly happy either princess!" Sirius yelled back while everyone else was laughing at them.
"Mar you still need to spin the wheel," Dorcas reminded her. Marlene took a deep breath and spun until it landed on quick snog and she looked ready to murder the board.
"Oh my! My brother and sister snogging! Merlin Sirius I know we're Blacks but I expected better from you!" Regulus said between laughs earning another laugh from everyone besides Sirius and Marlene.
"Come here then princess" Sirius said while letting go of Remus' hand slowly. Marlene looked at Dorcas with pleading eyes but when she got no where she walked over to Sirius.
"Your breath stinks!" Marlene complained when they were centimetres apart.
"Yours ain't much better!" Sirius retorted. And finally their lips met and they both flinched. As they began to kiss everyone saw how awkward and wrong it looked. After 10 seconds they pulled apart and ran to the bathroom to clean their mouths and everyone returned to laughs and giggles.
"That wasn't a very long snog" Remus said laughing still.
"Shut it" Sirius said while sitting in his lap, looking like he wasn't going to move any time soon.
"Alright I'll go," Peter said, spinning the wand. After a moment the wand landed on Lily.
"Not my first pick but it'll do" Peter said almost silently under his breath as he spun the wheel and it landed on peck. Peter sat up and walked over to Lily and gave her a peck on the lips and went back to his spot.
"Well that was boring," Mary said.
"Yeah yeah, whatever, you should be happy I didn't have to snog your girlfriend! Anyway you go," Peter told her and with that she spun the wand.
"Oh thank Merlin!" Mary basically sang when it landed on Dorcas.
"I'm honestly offended by that" James dramatically stated.
"You should be Potter" she answered, spinning the wheel and getting kiss.
Before Mary went over to Dorcas she whispered to Lily, "Are you alright with this Sweetheart?" To which Lily nodded, so Mary gave Dorcas a quite, passionate kiss.
"Bloody hell. Marly, she may be a better kisser then you!" Dorcas exclaimed.
"No she bloody isn't!" Marlene growled while pulling Dorcas in for a kiss.
"I'm mistaken, anyway Regulus you go," Dorcas said while regaining her breath.
When Regulus spun James hoped that it would be him who got to kiss him but decided not to get his hopes to high. It felt like the wand had been spinning forever when it finally began to slow down. It went past Lily, Mary, Remus, Sirius, Peter and finally stopped on James. James looked up at Regulus to see him slightly grinning which caused a small blush to brush across James' cheeks. Regulus spun the wheel and James couldn't believe his luck when it read, seven minutes in heaven.
"Oh my! My two brothers snogging! Merlin Reggie I know we're Blacks but I expected better from you!" Sirius copied Regulus' words from before earning himself being flipped off.
"Right then, let's go Potter," Regulus said as he raised from his spot and walked so casually to the cupboard that you wouldn't think he was about to snog his brothers best friend. James was purely shocked but got up nevertheless and followed Regulus over to the cupboard. Once he got in he noticed Regulus put up a silencing spell in the cupboard and suddenly got very nervous.
"You know we don't have to do this if you aren't comfortable, right?" Regulus asked once he saw how nervous James looked.
"Yeah I kn- bloody hell," James whispered once he saw how gorgeous Regulus looked in this lighting. His eyes looked like there was a storm brewing in them with his dark hair falling slightly over the top of his face.
"Are you ok Jam-" Regulus began to say until James' hands found his blouse and he was pulled into a kiss. At first he was shocked but eventually he melted into the kiss and pushed James lightly against the wall. James' hands wandered up to Regulus' hair and slowly his fingers became tangled in it. Regulus' own hands gripped James' hips tightly, as if he was scared this would be the only time they would kiss. Their lips fit together like two puzzle pieces, finally fixing together. Their lips parted for a second as if asking if it was ok to continue, until their lips met once again. James' grip got tighter on Regulus' hair as the other's lips went down to meet the skin of his neck leaving soft kisses. Those soft kisses slowly got harder and James' breaths got quicker. A few marks were placed on James' neck. But as soon as it happened, it ended with Sirius opening the door with his mouth hung open.
"Ahem!" Lily coughed loudly and James tried to straighten out but Regulus continued his trail of kisses.
"Bloody hell, I didn't think they would do it!" Sirius gasps.
"We did," Remus said smirking.
"Wait what! Oh my Merlin, stop bloody kissing!" Sirius shouted and with that Regulus gave James one last peck on his lips and got off of him completely.
"James how are you going to cover those up?" Marlene asks with a grin on her face while pointing to the dark coloured marks on his neck.
"I um-" James began.
"He's not," Regulus stated boldly, "Now if you guys let us have a second" he continued closing the door and James was glad he put up a silencing spell up before.
"James Potter, I like you, I have a small feeling you like me, so will you be my boyfriend?" Regulus questioned, a small hint of nervousness in his voice.
"Yes," James smiled while pulling him in for another kiss.
"You two better not be kissing again!" Sirius yelled as he banged on the door.
Regulus just kept kissing James. Once they broke apart, Regulus said, "You're not allowed to cover those up"
"Wasn't planning on it" James replied as he cuddled close to him.
If anyone's confused about Regulus, Sirius and Marlene, Marlene is like an older sister to Regulus and Marlene and Sirius are best friends but in their own way. Hope you enjoyed this, I'm still experimenting with writing Jegulus stuff.
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drarrily-we-row-along · 3 years ago
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Day 106: Eyes
"Malfoy," a voice called as his hair was pushed out of his face and his chin was tilted slightly. "Malfoy," the voice repeated.
Draco was quite certain he must be hallucinating, there was no way that it was who it sounded like.
"Draco," that voice said again, "Wake up."
His eyes fluttered open and he groaned in pain as the light seared through his retinas and straight into his brain.
"Hey," Harry bloody Potter said.
He opened his mouth and spit out a bit of blood.
"Merlin," Potter said, "Do you think you can stand?"
"Yeah," he grunted. "Yes. I'm fine. Thank you for your assistance, Potter."
The other boy huffed a laugh, "Sure. Come on. Let me help you get to Madam Pomfrey."
He shook his head, "Don't let me keep you from your important life," Draco said as he stood up and reached out to steady himself on the wall.
"Draco," he said.
Looking through his swollen eye, he tried to glare at the other boy. "Harry." he parroted.
"You don't have to be so stubborn," he said with a laugh.
He took a step toward the infirmary and his knees buckled.
Potter caught him and put an arm around his waist. "Come on."
(Read more below the cut)
"What? No one else to save?" Draco asked through clenched teeth as he started to hobble off down the hallway using Potter as little as possible.
"Not at the moment, no," Potter quipped. "You want to tell me who did this to you?"
He let out a humorless chuckle, "It doesn't matter."
Potter hummed and caught Draco when he started to slip a bit. "I've got you," he murmured.
Draco tried not to let the words go to his head.
----------
After they'd reached the infirmary Potter tried again to get Draco to tell him what had happened but there was honestly no point.
Madam Pomfrey had shooed Potter out and then Draco had a few hours of peace and quiet while his wounds were healed. Fortunately he had a good book in his school bag, which Potter had carried up for him.
"Why don't you stay over night, love," Madam Pomfrey said and Draco looked up from his book. "You're not quite ready to go back yet and it's just about bed time anyway."
"Thank you," he replied, giving her a little smile before going back to his book.
Shortly thereafter, the door to the infirmary flew open and Draco's head snapped up. Normally an entry of that magnitude meant that something horrible had happened.
But it was just Potter, looking thunderous as he stormed over to Draco's bed.
"Madam Pomfrey's just gone to bed," he said as he closed his book and set it on his lap. "If you've come here to inflict more damage, perhaps you could wait until the morning for her sake."
That stopped the other man in his tracks. "I'm sorry. What?"
"Just, whatever it is that's made you look murderous, I'm sure it's warranted but I do think that Madam Pomfrey deserves a good rest, don't you?"
"I'm not," he shook his head, "I'm not here to hurt you."
"Oh."
Potter rubbed a hand over his face. "I found Smith."
"Ah," he replied.
"He said that you didn't even raise your wand to cast a shield charm to protect yourself," Potter said as though he was personally offended by this.
Draco shrugged.
"Why?" Potter asked. "Hermione thinks it's because the Ministry has told you what spells you can and can't cast, and if that's the case, I'll write a letter to Kingsley right now-"
"It's not because of the Ministry," he interrupted.
"Then why-" he started before pulling over a chair and plopping down next to Draco's bed, "Why do you keep letting this happen to you?"
"I don't see them," Draco replied, staring at his hands that were twisting together in his lap.
"Look me in the eye and tell me that you don't see them," Potter replied.
He shook his head, "Why does it matter?"
"Draco," he said, "You can tell me-"
"There's nothing to tell," he snapped.
"Look, I know that the war was hard on all of us-"
"You have no idea what the war was like for people like me," he interrupted, trying to keep his breathing under control and his voice low.
"No, I suppose you're right," Potter replied and Draco couldn't help but look over at him. "Would you like to tell me?"
"No!" he exclaimed. "There is nothing to tell! Just like there's no reason for me to tell you who keeps cursing me. And there is no reason for me to tell you that I don't stop them because I deserve it!"
They both sat in stunned silence; Draco breathing heavily, his heart hammering away in his chest and Potter just stared at him.
Potter broke first, "You-"
"Don't," Draco said, shaking his head. "Circe, Potter, don't say it. Don't tell me that I don't deserve it because we both know that isn't true."
"Draco," he breathed and it was like he was shoving a jagged, rusty knife straight through his chest.
"Don't," he repeated, begging this time.
"Draco, listen to me."
He shook his head and to his mounting horror a tear spilled from his eyes.
"It wasn't your fault," Potter said.
"Don't," he begged, wrapping his arms around his stomach as though it could stop the way his entire body felt like it was unraveling. "People died-"
"Yes," Potter agreed. "People died on both sides. From your actions, from death eaters actions, from the Order's actions, from my actions; people died. You never actually killed anyone, though. You don't have it in you."
"Potter, I am culpable for-"
"You never killed anyone." Potter repeated. "You didn't want to hurt people, you didn't want to kill people, you just wanted to protect your mum."
"Don't." He shook his head, "You don't understand."
"I actually killed someone," the other boy replied.
"The Dark Lord doesn't coun-"
"When I was eleven," Potter started and Draco was so shocked by those words that he didn't even interrupt. "You remember all of the commotion at the end of the year or first year?"
He nodded slowly.
"I killed Professor Quirrell," he said. "Long story short, because of the blood magic protecting me, he couldn't touch me and it killed him."
"But that's not-"
"Second year, Tom Riddle was sucking Ginny's life force so that he could come back, I killed him. I stabbed the horocrux with a basilisk fang and I didn't even think about it," he continued.
"But-"
"Last year, Pettigrew died because he owed me a life debt and he tried to kill me."
"But-"
"I not only was responsible for Voldemort's death the first time and the second time, I was responsible for killing seven pieces of his soul."
"But it's not the same!" he finally managed to get in.
"Why?"
"Because you were on the right side of things and I wasn't!"
The other boy shook his head, "Yeah but it's not like you wanted to be on that side."
"When I was young-"
"Oh sure," he agreed, "you were a complete arse. But we wouldn't have won if you had turned me in, if you hadn't given me your wand, if you'd killed Dumbledore. It's not who you are any more."
"Still," Draco whispered. "I fixed that closet."
He nodded, "And I can't count the number of things that I've done to cause deaths. Godric, Draco," he shook his head, "I don't sleep well as it is, but I'd never sleep if I held myself responsible for all of the horrible things that happened because of my actions."
"Potter-"
"Look, it doesn't have to happen in a day, but you can't keep doing this, Draco. You can't keep letting people hurt you to atone for your perceived sins."
He let his head fall back against the pillows. As much as he would love to live in the delusions that Potter was offering he couldn't imagine that world actually existed.
"Be my friend."
"Excuse me?" he asked, looking over at the other boy.
"Be my friend," Potter said. "Please."
"Why?"
He sighed, "Because..." he trailed off.
"I'm not a broken thing for you to fix."
"No," he agreed easily. "I'm the broken thing."
Draco stared at him, "You make no sense to me."
Potter grinned like he'd complimented him.
"Will it shut you up if I say yes?" he grumbled.
"For now," he replied with a nod.
"Fine."
"Alright," Potter said, sitting back and making himself comfortable in the chair.
"What are you doing?"
He gave him a little grin, "Being a friend. You're stuck with me like glue now."
"That's a boyfriend not a friend, you're confused."
Potter shrugged and said through a yawn, "Boyfriend, then. That title is fine with me."
"What-?" he started.
But Potter leaned over and pressed a kiss to his forehead as though it was the most natural thing in the world and every word that Draco knew evaporated. "Good night, Draco Malfoy. Sleep well."
He was so stunned that he said nothing in reply and by the time he'd gotten his thoughts in any semblance of order Potter was fast asleep; his head resting on his hand as he snored.
Draco shook his head and decided that he would just have to wait until the morning to straighten all of this out.
For now, he decided that it might be alright to spend the next few hours with the tiny, fragile ball of joy unfurling in his chest.
--------------
Day 105: Cuddle | Day 107: Charge
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m0srael · 3 years ago
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Drunk Texts
For the @drarrymicrofic prompt: Love Letter
One balmy night in June, Harry’s lying in bed wide awake--unable to sleep again--when his mobile lights up on the nightstand. The only people who ever contact him on his mobile are Teddy (“All the cool wizards have them these days, Harry, please get one so I can send you memes!”) and Hermione, and neither of them would be texting this late.
Friday, June 6 2008, 1:27 AM
+445195555555: I’ve been hopelessly in love with you since we were sixteen, won’t shut my bloody mouth about you actually, can I take you on a date? I’m still very rich, all things considered, and know all the best restaurants in Wizarding Britain.
+445195555555: Maybe just a shag, then?
Harry: bloody hell, who is this??
Harry: This number is unlisted, I don’t know how you got it but I’m blocking it now. Kindly, fuck off.
+445195555555: WAIT
+445195555555: What do you mean, who is this? I thought muggle mobiles know who you’re talking to already.
Harry: Not if a strange person is texting in the middle of the bloody night from a number I’ve never seen before!
+445195555555: If you don’t want to date me or shag me just say so, Potter. No need to play hard to get and toss around insults
+445195555555: Unless that’s a thing for you, cheeky ;) ;)
Harry: Last chance, tell me who this is or I’m blocking your number.
+445195555555: Draco
+445195555555: Obviously ;)
Harry: Draco...Malfoy?
Harry: You expect me to believe Draco Malfoy is confessing his love and hitting me up for a shag at 1am. On a *muggle* mobile.
+445195555555: Believe it scarhead, now answer the question do you or do you not want to shag me
Harry: Look, you’ve obviously read one too many Prophet articles…
Harry: Somehow found my number...did you confund someone I know??
Harry: And thought that...pretending to be Draco Malfoy, of all people, would entice me to meet up with a total stranger?
+445195555555: Ooh, the logic of it all, Potter ;)
Harry: Stop doing that
+445195555555: what ;) ;)
Harry: The emojis. Malfoy would never use emojis.
+445195555555: You don’t know what I would or wouldn’t do anymore Potter. Would you like to learn? ;)
Harry: Fuck
Harry: Even if I believed you, I’ve never given Draco Malfoy my number. My *muggle* mobile number.
Harry: I’ve never given him my number because Draco Malfoy would never use a *muggle* mobile.
Harry:...among other reasons
+445195555555: Always so preoccupied with blood purity, Potter, haven’t you learned anything?
+445195555555: And there you go again, assuming that you know what I would and would not do
+445195555555: It really would be much more efficient if you just let me demonstrate
Harry: oh my god
Harry: I can’t believe I’m still messaging you
Harry: ffs, you have one chance to convince me that you’re really Malfoy otherwise I’m blocking you immediately
+445195555555: You are a tetchy one, hm?
+445195555555: Fine. You cornered me in a bathroom in 6th bc you were *obsessed* with me and tried to murder me using sectumsempra (which you claimed not to know the effect of, pft) but only because I tried to Crucio you and I would have died if Snape hadn’t found us and cleaned up your mess (again)
+445195555555: They definitely didn’t print THAT in the Prophet. Unfortunately.
Harry: Bloody hell um...okay…
Harry: Look, about that, Malfoy…
Harry: Wait, unfortunately…??
+445195555555: So you see, Potter, it is in fact I, Draco Lucius Malfoy, confessing my love and “hitting you up for a shag at 1am” as you so elegantly put it.
+445195555555: ;)
Harry: Okay. Malfoy, then. Jesus.
Harry: How exactly did you get my number?
Harry: For that matter, when did you get a mobile?
Draco Sodding Malfoy: I got it from Pansy, who got it from Ginny, you recalcitrant twat
Draco Sodding Malfoy: See, I can do the sexy insults thing, too :*
Draco Sodding Malfoy: And if you must know, Potter, I purchased a mobile years ago to stay in contact with my cousin, Teddy. Teddy Lupin. I think you’re acquainted? The little brat refuses to owl, apparently it’s “sooo medieval”.
Harry: Oh. That...actually makes sense. He said the same thing to me.
Harry: Hang on, Teddy isn’t a brat. I thought you two got on rather well…?
Draco Sodding Malfoy: Whatever, the point is I’m mad for you and I never told you because, well, there was the whole war thing and then the whole trial thing, and since then I’ve become a bit of a self-righteous coward. Also, I fancy myself something of a martyr. I think the constant pouting makes my mouth look more kissable, don’t you?
Draco Sodding Malfoy: We could do the dinner thing if we must, or you can just come round mine I can meet you there right now
Harry: Oh. You’re drunk.
Harry: Never pegged you as the type to get sloshed and text your ex-childhood-nemesis for a hookup
Draco Sodding Malfoy: not with that attitude you haven’t
Harry: Hah
Draco Sodding Malfoy: Not drnk
Draco Sodding Malfoy: Honestly, Potter
Draco Sodding Malfoy: Harry
Harry: weird
Draco Sodding Malfoy: I’ve seen the way you watch me when you think I’m not looking. You look at me like some lovesick teenager. Why deny what *literally everyone* can plainly see?
Harry: I do not look at you like a...lovesick teenager, Malfoy.
Draco Sodding Malfoy: Draco ;)
Harry: I do not watch you, DRACO.
Draco Sodding Malfoy: I only notice because I’m watching you too, Harry. All the time. I’ve been watching you for as long as I can remember.
Draco Sodding Malfoy: You’ve practically been the center of my universe since I was eleven years old, for Merlin’s sake. I think about you all the time. I miss you all the time, even when we’re in the same room.
Draco Sodding Malfoy: I mean I LITERALLY do not shut up about you I wasn’t exaggerating about that. It drives Pansy and Blaise, who have the patience and constitutions of actual saints and who are very, very good friends, absolutely mental and they’d like nothing more than to hex my mouth shut permanently.
Harry: um
Draco Sodding Malfoy: Admit it.
Draco Sodding Malfoy: You’ve wondered what it’d be like.
Draco Sodding Malfoy: Imagined it.
Draco Sodding Malfoy: Us
Harry: Malfoy…
Draco Sodding Malfoy: Draco
Harry: Draco…
Draco Sodding Malfoy: Yes, Harry? ;)
Harry: I...could do dinner.
Draco Sodding Malfoy: You could “do” dinner? That’s all, after everything I’ve just said, you can “do” dinner??
Harry: For the love of Merlin
Harry: Fine. You’re right, Draco. I...have wondered
Harry: About us, I mean
Harry: Ahh and actually Draco sometimes when I look at you I just want…
Friday, June 6 2008, 2:15 AM
Draco Sodding Malfoy: what
Draco Sodding Malfoy: you want what
Friday, June 6 2008, 2:48 AM
Draco Sodding Malfoy: harry
Friday, June 6 2008, 3:09 AM
Draco Sodding Malfoy: harry, bloody hell
Saturday, June 7 2008, 6:45 AM
Harry: Draco, I’m so sorry
Saturday, June 7 2008, 8:18 AM
Harry: My mobile died and I didn’t have my charger
Saturday, June 7 2008, 9:23 AM
Harry: Draco
Saturday, June 7 2008, 11:47 AM
Draco Sodding Malfoy: Potter, why on earth are you contacting me so early on a Saturday?
Draco Sodding Malfoy: Scratch that, why are you contacting me at all? Where did you get my number?
Harry: Oh, so you were drunk
Draco Sodding Malfoy: How is my present or past level of intoxication any of your concern?
Draco Sodding Malfoy: Oh.
Draco Sodding Malfoy: No.
Harry: Draco, what’s wrong? What happened?
Harry: Draco…?
Harry: I’m sorry, if I said something…
Harry: Look, YOU’RE the one drunk messaging ME at all hours of the night looking for a shag!
Saturday, June 7 2008, 7:08 PM
Draco Sodding Malfoy: Dear Harry,
Draco Sodding Malfoy: I hereby formally apologize for my previous messages. They are inappropriate and entirely out of line, do forgive me. Although it appears that Blaise Zabini and Pansy Parkinson absconded with my mobile yesterday evening to, “have a bit of fun”, I take full responsibility for what has transpired. Do not report me, or something. I do hope you were not too offended. I will henceforth refrain from contacting you by this, or any other, means. I assure you that my traitorous, juvenile, back-stabbing, inconsiderate, so-called friends have been soundly reprimanded. You may expect their formal apologies via owl, posthaste.
Draco Sodding Malfoy: Apologetically, Draco L. Malfoy
Harry: Wow, uh, ok. I’ve never gotten a formal apology over text before. Did it take you...8 hours to write that?
Harry: And for the record, I knew something was up. We may not be best mates or anything but I know you wouldn’t use emojis like that.
Draco Sodding Malfoy: Oh, bugger off, Potter you had no idea it wasn’t me. You were ready to spill your innermost desires to a stranger on your mobile! Stupid Gryffindor.
Draco Sodding Malfoy: Ah.
Draco Sodding Malfoy: I mean, goodbye! So sorry, again, for the inconvenience! We will never speak again from this moment on!
Harry: Draco, wait
Draco ;): Merlin, what, Potter?
Harry: Harry
Draco ;): No.
Harry: Fine. Look, if you accept full responsibility, does that mean your offer still stands?
Draco ;): What offer?
Draco ;): No. It doesn’t, whatever it is.
Harry: Your offer to take me on a date.
Harry: ;)
Draco ;): Bloody...Potter, that wasn’t MY offer!
Harry: Perhaps not, but I’ve seen the way you watch me when you think I’m not looking...Draco.
Draco ;): Who is this? I’m blocking this number. I’m going to ask Pansy how to block a number.
Harry: Draco, I’m serious.
Saturday, June 7 2008, 9:14 PM
Harry: Draco, I can tell that you didn’t block my number.
Saturday, June 7 2008, 11:47 PM
Harry: Fine.
Harry: Draco, could I take you out for dinner some time? I know someone who knows all the best restaurants in Wizarding Britain.
Draco ;): …..
Harry: ?
Draco ;): If you must
Harry: If I must?
Draco ;): It's true that I'm still rich, all things considered, but you’re paying
Draco ;): ;)
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Open your eyes (Prologue)
This story started out as a Merlin AU with the SW character and then went completely off the rails. I hope you enjoy it. Credit for the charsacters goes to @lumosinlove. 
@waltzintherain @clearsuitcasecookienerd hope this lives up to your expectations <3. 
Masterlist
Remus stood in shock, staring at the center of the square as the crowd thinned around him. The king had just killed someone, and these people were acting like nothing happened. He shook his head, as if to dislodge the image of the axe falling down from his mind. He knew that the laws on sorcery were nothing short of ridiculous in the kingdom of Slytherin, but he hadn’t expected to find himself witnessing an execution less than an hour into arriving. 
He walked towards one of the guards nearest to him. “Hey”, he tried to sound like he hadn’t just witnessed one of his own get murdered, “do you know where I can find the physician's chambers?”
The guard pointed to the entrance to his left, “up those steps, it's the first door to your left.”
“Thank you.” 
Remus went up the steps, trying to forget the execution he had just witnessed. He stopped in front of the door and took a deep breath. He reminded himself that Minerva was his mother’s friend, she knew about everything, it would be fine. 
He pushed the door open, only to discover an empty room, well not empty, the room was filled with herbs and vials and medicine, but there was no one there. He walked in, hovering awkwardly in between a table and the patient cot. 
He heard footsteps approach from outside before someone opened the door. “Hey Minnie do you- oh hi”. 
Remus blinked slowly when he saw the newcomer. He was tall with broad shoulders, black hair and sharp grey eyes. It took Remus a second to remember he was supposed to answer. “Hi” 
“You’re not Minnie”, the stranger said, confused.
“Astute observation”, Remus retorted, tone dripping with sarcasm.  
The stranger blinked at him, mouth slightly open in what appeared to be shock. “You can’t talk to me like that”, he said after shaking off his confusion. 
“Oh, really”, Remus said, “and, do tell, why not”. 
“Because.” 
“Saying because and pointing at yourself isn’t an answer.” Remus sounded amused. 
“I could have you thrown in the dungeons for that”. The other man didn’t sound offended, more teasing than anything else. 
Remus cocked an eyebrow at him. Stood in front of him was who he now recognized as Slytherin’s prince and heir to the throne. He had heard of Sirius Black in passing. He maybe came up in conversation once or twice, but Remus had never met him. People said he was the spitting image of Orion, but seeing him now Remus couldn’t help but notice how unlike his father he looked. Orion looked cold and distant, even the few glimpses that Remus had gotten of the king were enough for him to notice how above it all Orion thought he was. 
“I would like to see you try” 
Sirius barked out a laugh, “You have to be the most moronic person I have ever met. Challenging the prince in such a fashion” 
Remus smirked. “Well to throw me in a dungeon you’d have to catch me first.” 
“You think I can’t catch what’s right in front of me?” 
Remus pretended to think about it. He knew the prince wouldn’t be able to catch him. He had years of practice from running away from Finn and Thomas. “Maybe if what was in front of you wasn’t me”, he made a pause to give the prince an exaggerated look. “Maybe then you could catch it.” Whatever Sirius was going to retort got interrupted when a man opened the door. He was all but screaming at Sirius and he hadn't even entered the room. 
“Sirius Orion Black, get your lazy arse back to training and stop bothering Minerva.” 
“You wound me Logan.” Sirius said, putting a hand over his heart dramatically and turning to face the newcomer. “You think I, Sirius Black, would dare skip training just to annoy Minnie.”
Remus wanted to laugh. This was nothing like what he had expected from Sirius Black, Prince of Slytherin. “I have known you for less than five minutes”, both men turned to look at him, “but even I can tell you’re skipping.” Sirius gasped. If Remus thought Thomas was dramatic, this guy was worse. 
Logan laughed at Sirius’s betrayed expression. “I like you”, he said, “what’s your name.” 
“I’m Remus, Remus Lupin,”, he shook Logan’s offered hand, “and you are.” 
“Logan Tremblay, a pleasure to meet you.”
“I’m sorry to interupt what is surely some form of traitorous meeting,”, Sirius didn’t sound at all sorry, “but we have to go.”
Remus sighed, letting go of Logan’s hand. “Oh, well, it was nice meeting you Logan.” 
“Likewise.” 
“Skipping training again, your highness?” A beaming smile took over Sirius’s face at the woman’s voice.
“Minnie!” 
Minerva stood in the entryway, not at all phased by the two knights that were standing in the room. Remus wondered if this happened often.
“Hello Remus”
“Wait”, Sirius said putting his hand up, “you two know each other”. 
Logan rolled his eyes, “yeah yeah, they know each other. Now let’s go”. He grabbed Sirius by the arm and dragged him out of the physician's quarters. Remus chuckled lightly, maybe this wouldn’t be so bad. 
“It’s good to see you”. Minerva greeted warmly. “It’s been a few years.” 
“Last time we talked I was, what” he stopped to think about it, “5 or 6 years old?” 
Minerva nodded before adding, “your mother said you wanted to learn medicine.”
“Yes. Thought I should learn, since my heale-”. He stopped himself, he couldn’t talk about his magic so casually anymore. Minerva seemed to understand what he meant anyway. Remus would have to be careful, he was grateful that he learned to control his magic when he was younger. He couldn’t afford accidental magic here. 
“Well there isn’t much for you to do today.” Minerva’s voice brought him out of his thoughts. “You can go explore the citadel if you want.”
Remus smiled at her. “That would be nice.” He spent some time in the room Minerva had prepared for him before going out. He thought about Sirius, he seemed like a good guy, but he was still raised by a man that couldn’t even bare the mention of magic. Maybe he thought people who chose to learn it would turn evil, but he didn’t seem like the type to kill someone without reason. 
Remus wouldn’t think about it too much. Even if he ended up befriending the prince, there was no chance Remus would share his secret until he knew for certain he could trust him. After he unpacked all of his belongings and wrote a letter for his mother he headed out of his room, crashing with someone right outside his door. He managed to regain his balance easily, the other person wasn’t so lucky. He heard the sound of metal and someone hitting the floor,  muttering a curse. “Oh gods, I am so sorry” Remus offered his hand to help the person up. It was a girl, with dark curls and tan skin. 
“That’s ok, I had to fix those anyway.”
“Still”, Remus bent down to pick up the armour the girl had dropped, “I’m sorry.”
“Thank you”, she said, accepting the chainmail he was handing her and putting it in the basket she had been carrying. “I’m June”
“Remus”.  He handed her a damaged gauntlet. 
“Are you new here, I don’t think I've seen you before.” 
“Is it that obvious?” Remus asked sheepishly. 
“Very”,  she said, trying to smother her giggles behind her palm. “Want me to show you around?” 
Remus nodded, “yeah that’d be great. Thank you.” 
“Great. We just have to drop these off at my house first.” 
The two of them walked in silence for a bit, passing through the citadel before heading towards the lower town. Remus was looking around trying to memorize where everything was but quickly becoming lost. June stopped in front of a small hut besides the forges and went in, probably to drop the damaged armour off. 
Remus felt only slightly dumb for not expecing June to live besides the forge. She had said she needed to fix the armour and now that he looked at her properly she didn’t look like all the other women in the lower town. She was muscular, definitely stronger than your average peasant woman. Her hands had burn marks and her fingers had thin scars, probably from accidentally cutting herself on blades. 
“Ready”, June's voice cut through his thoughts.  
“Yeah.” They began walking back towards the palace. “So, where are you taking me?”  
“The training grounds.”
 Remus just stared at her. “What?” He noticed she had something in her hand. 
“Well, you wanted a tour of the citadel, and I have to give this”, she showed him the dagger she was holding, “to sir Pascal, thought we would kill two birds with one stone and start the tour there.” 
“Can I see it”, he said pointing towards the blade. She handed it to him and he took it out of its sheath. It was a very detailed knife, it had a gladiolus flower engraved into the silver blade, and it had a small blue opal snake encrusted into the hilt. 
“Did you make this?”
She grinned at his surprised tone. “Why are  you so surprised? Didn’t think a girl could make something like that.” Remus didn’t miss the edge on her teasing tone. 
“Of course not. I don’t doubt your blacksmith abilities. It’s just that-” Remus was looking for the right words. 
“Just what?” 
“This is one of the most beautiful designs I have ever seen.”
“I can make one for you if you want”
Remus hummed in acknowledgment, handing the sheathed dagger back to her. “I’ll think about it.” When they reached the grounds they saw Sirius and Logan sparring. Logan seemed to be struggling to hold himself up as Sirius pushed down on The shorter man’s sword with his own. June whistled towards the crowd of armored knights and everyone but the two fighting men turned to look at her. A man started to walk towards her with a warm smile on his face. Remus guessed that was sir Pascal. 
“Here you go.” June said, handing him the dagger. “I hope Katie likes it. 
“I’m sure she will. Just like she loved all the other things you’ve made for her.” 
The knight turned to look at Remus and offered his hand. “Pascal Dumais, pleasure to meet you.” 
“Remus Lupin”, he said, shaking Pascal’s hand. 
“Have we met before?” The knight looked him over, as if trying to find an answer to his own question in Remus’s face. “You seem familiar.” 
“I don’t think we’ve met.” Remus managed to keep the panic from his tone, if someone here made a connection between him and his father it would end badly. “My father is a lord from Gryffindor, perhaps that’s where you see a resemblance.” 
Pascal looked at him for a second longer, then spoke. “That’s certainly a possibility.” 
“Well, I hate to be the one to break this meeting but I have to show this guy around”, June said, pointing at Remus and then at Pascal, “and you sir have to make sure Logan doesn’t get his ass beat for not knowing when to hold his tongue.”
The knight threw his head back, barking out a laugh. “The only people that could ever manage to make that boy behave are Celeste and his mother.” 
“You say that like your wife isn’t the scariest woman in this kingdom”, June said before grabbing Remus by the elbow and dragging him off to wherever was next. “Goodbye, see you later”, she said over her shoulder to a waving Pascal.  
“Where are we going to next?” 
June hummed in acknowledgement before answering, “I thought, since you’re probably going to be helping Minerva with handing out medicine, we should start with all the different castle wings.” She guided Remus through a series of elaborate corridors and showed him some of the different servant entrances, he didn’t think he would have to use those too often but if he ever needed to escape they would be useful for him to go unnoticed. She showed him the guest quarters, took him down to the kitchen, and finished in the royal chambers. 
“The big doors at the end of the hall are the King’s chambers, and these are Prince Sirius’s chambers”, she said pointing to the doors they were passing, “I would suggest you stay as far away from here as possible.” Even though her tone was even there was a teasing glint in her eyes. 
“Wow June”, said a voice from down the hall, “and here I thought we were on good terms.”
She smirked. “After what you did last week Black?”. She raised an eyebrow, “I don’t think I’m capable of such forgiveness.”
Remus looked at Sirius with a questioning look, the other man was pouting. “What did you do?” Sirius answered “nothing” at the same time the June said “he ruined Katie’s surprise.” 
Sirius threw his arms up dramatically, “I already apologized for that June.”
June sighed heavily. “Give me some time to plan my revenge and then maybe I’ll forgive you.” Remus watched Sirius’s eyes widen comically, his mouth opening a closing like he couldn't find what to say to that. He suspected that threats of a night in the dungeons wouldn’t mean much to the blacksmith. Remus tried not to laugh at the entire interaction, it was almost like Sirius forgot he was the prince. It reminded Remus so much of Finn it made him feel a little homesick. 
June grabbed Remus by the wrist, not giving Sirius the chance to respond to her threat, and guided him towards an opening at the end of the corridor. He heard Sirius run to catch up with them, his steps echoing through the hallway. “Where are you taking him?”, Sirius asked once he caught up to them.  
She turned to look at him, “Regulus’s chambers. It’s the only place left apart from the library.” Sirius hummed. The three of them lapsed into a comfortable silence. They started going up a narrow winding staircase that took them to the top of one of the towers. “Ok, so, that over there”, June said whilst pointing at the double doors at the end of the small hallway, “are Regulus’s chambers. And that”, she pointed at a single door half hidden behind a tapestry with the Black Family crest, “is either a servants entrance or a way to escape if there’s an attack.” Remus nodded, if he was honest he had already half forgotten what way was what. 
“Well, I have somewhere else to be right now, but I look forward to seeing you around”, Sirius said, extending his hand for Remus to shake.
 Remus took his hand, giving it a firm shake. “Sure thing, I certainly can’t wait to see what revenge June is planning.” He let go of Sirius’s hand, ignoring the pout on his face in favor of turning to June. “Remind me to never get on your bad side.” 
June laughed, shaking her head lightly. “Will do”. The three of them went down the stairs, Sirius going to his chambers to get out of his armour and sweaty clothes from training. Remus and June continued their tour around the castle for a while longer before she brought him back to the physician’s chambers. “It was nice meeting you Remus”, she gave him a small smile. “See you around?”
Remus smiled at her, “Definitely Good night June.” 
“Good night”
Hours later, when Remus was lying down in his bed staring up at the ceiling, he thought about how that morning had gone. The image of the axe falling, the old woman threatening the king, swearing she would avenge her son. The entire thing left him feeling uneasy, there was nothing he could do now, he knew that. 
He moved so he could see out the window, he tried to find some constellations in the night sky, giving his mind something to do other than worry about vengeful sorceresses. He mapped some of his favorite constellations, trying to imagine his brother doing the same back home, the thought calmed him a bit. The last thing he saw was Sirius’s soft glow, so much brighter than the other stars, before he drifted off into a dreamless sleep. 
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Three years later
Sirius had just called the end of practice when he saw someone hovering along the edges of the training grounds. A girl around his age was looking around with a frustrated expression on her face. He waved at Pascal and Logan, telling them he would see them at Sir Pascal’s house and walked over to the girl. 
“Hello”, her gaze focused on him, eyes flashing briefly. “Are you looking for someone?” 
She looked at him for a moment before answering. “Yes actually. Do you know where I can find Remus Lupin?” 
“No, sorry. I haven’t seen him all day.” Her face fell slightly, the irritated look returning to her expression. “I can help you look for him though. I’m Sirius” 
Something that looked like apprehension mixed with relief crossed her expression. “I’m Heather. And thank you, for the help.” He gave her a curt nod and they began walking away from the training grounds, heading to the castle.
“Why were you looking for him in the knights training area?” Sirius asked conversationally. 
“Oh, I thought maybe he’d be there. I need to give him a letter.” 
Sirius looked at her, confused. “Why would Remus be with the knights while they’re training?” It was her turn to look confused, it only lasted for a second, her face going back to a neutral expression. She didn’t say anything, shrugging lightly. 
They lapsed into awkward silence. Sirius took her to the physician's chambers first, hoping Remus would be there so that he could get out of the uncomfortable situation. They stopped in front of the door, Sirius said his goodbyes, telling her he had somewhere else to be. Heather smiled kindly at him, nodding. After he left she faced the door and pushed it open, sighing in relief when she saw Remus reading a book on the table. She walked towards him and sat down on the stool beside the table, dropping the stachel she had been carrying on the ground soundlessly. Remus jolted when she touched his arm, the feather-light touch raising goosebumps on his skin. She giggled at his startled expression. “Hello Remus.” 
“H-Heather?” Confusion and happiness flashed across his eyes in equal measure. He pulled her in for a hug, the angle a little awkward from their position. “What are you doing here?” 
“I’m just passing by”, she turned to look for something in her bag, “Finn asked me to bring this for you.” She handed Remus an envelope.
 He frowned at the golden seal. Finn never sealed his letters in gold, the color much too formal for a message between friends. He would usually use red wax, the color of Gryffindor’s banner. He opened the envelope, the golden wax crumbling and falling onto the table, and brought out a single page of writing. His eyes read over the words, the letter was unusually short and it had ink stains between words, almost like Finn had hesitated when writing them. His eyes widened mid-way through the first paragraph, a gasp escaping his lips. 
Heather watched him, making sure to mask her excitement with a carefully blank expression. When Remus finished reading he stared at the last sentence, his eyes reading it over and over again, a hundred different emotions flashing through his eyes before settling somewhere between surprise and indignation.  He turned around to look at her with a weird glint in his eye. 
“Since when is Finn getting married?”
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rechoired · 4 years ago
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A problem with the Tales Of Arcadia community
First and foremost, I’d like to ask anyone taking the time to read this to please read the post all the way through before commenting on the matter. There is a lot of dirty laundry to unpack here, and some points will be building off previous ones.
I’ll get right to the point. Most everybody in the Tales of Arcadia fandom will have heard of the blog imthegingerninja / ginger-le-gay. She is one of the most well-known ToA-centric blogs, after all. (If you’re wanting to avoid her on Twitter as well, her account is Margaret Bell, or @The_Book_Bell.)
This is your PSA, TOA fandom: Ginger is a toxic, manipulative person.
This is not a claim I like to make lightly, but it’s long overdue that this issue is properly brought up within the fandom. 
I’ve seen so many people wonder why the Tales of Arcadia fandom is so small. Well, I and many others very strongly believe that Ginger is one of the main reasons for that, if not the main one. To make matters easier, I’ve tried to break this down into some main points. So let’s take a look at how Ginger falls under this category.
Disclaimer: Please DO NOT look at this post as an excuse to harass Ginger or any other blog mentioned here. This sort of behavior is NOT acceptable. The point of this post is to educate those who may not know the extent of her harrowing behavior, nothing more.
1. Dishonesty and Death Threats
[EDIT: Shortly after this post went up, she started blatantly lying about me to try to cover for herself. You can see those lies being easily disproven here]
Ginger has been kicked from at least three Tales of Arcadia servers, all for similar reasons of violence. While I cannot provide screenshots as I am no longer part of the servers they were in, there are multiple witnesses that can verify the disgusting behavior she engaged in. The one I saw specifically was her saying that certain members of the fandom should be gathered up and hunted for sport, among other gross things. (Elaboration of why can be found in point 3, though it still doesn’t excuse this kind of talk)
Here is some points made by another blog that also sums up similar issues with Ginger, though:
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While there were multiple instances of her inciting violence towards others, this is unfortunately one topic I cannot provide specific screenshots for at this time. But I will add them in as I can find them. That being said, I want to move to the dishonesty, something I do have a screenshot for.
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While you could argue that people sometimes notice the similar things, this is far too close together to be considered an “original find”. The reblog button is there for a reason, but she instead decides to steal the OP’s premise and present it as her own original thought.
There have been a couple other blogs that have confirmed that their theories and analysis posts were often stolen and presented as Ginger’s own as well, to the point where they stopped bothering even making such posts, as the above blog points out. (Out of respect for their privacy, I will not be naming these blogs. Say what you will about that possibly weakening my point, but if she’s willing to so blatantly steal from that person shown above, it shouldn’t surprise you that she’s so willing to do it to others.)
Theory-making and analysis posts aren’t as solidly “original content” as a piece of art or fanfiction, sure, but it’s still common fandom courtesy to give credit where it’s due. Ginger has intentionally avoided extending that courtesy far too many times.
2. Hypocrisy
Most of this is going to be about past Merlin vs. Morgana drama, though there are also words to be said for the incredibly shaky relationships she forms with “friends”.
But first let’s talk about those wizards.
This is a topic I’ve tried to approach with Ginger before, but she borderline refused to acknowledge any of the points I was trying to make, and when she did, I don’t know if I just wasn’t being clear or what, but it honestly looked as though she was purposefully trying to misunderstand what I was saying in her bizarre responses. (To be fair, I was sending messages out of anger because she vagueposted about a blog I admired, calling them a “disgusting creep” because of them simply saying they’d hoped Jim and Merlin would be able to actually bond at some point... Not really a justifiable reaction to such a harmless thought, in my opinion. But my point is, I recognize that the circumstances may have clouded my ability to vocalize my thoughts clearly.)
That aside, we should first acknowledge this post Ginger made to save face after having gotten some backlash about hate-train related things (Side note: I couldn’t find the original post, so this is a screenshot I got from someone else. I did not add the writing. The text underneath it should still be slightly readable, I hope.):
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Taken at face value, this is a very reasonable post. I think everybody would and should be able to agree on it. Hate-meme him for fun, sure, but don’t actually harass or insult others over a fictional character. Simple, right?
Apparently not, because Ginger’s done loads of that to others. Probably why the “LOL” was added in, I bet.
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This post confused me. First of all, exploring dark topics (”angst”, as you put it) has never been a rare occurrence, every fandom has that content, most in heavy abundance. I’ve noticed no staggering difference in volume of this fandom compared to others I’ve been in. People enjoy angst not because they think the character “deserves to be in pain”, they enjoy a fictional blow to their own emotions. There’s lots of different reasons people like angst, but it’s barely ever been out of a genuine hate for whatever character’s the focus, from all the things I’ve seen. Your own friends have indulged in Jim angst and body horror posts before, does that mean you think they’re awful people? I feel like I shouldn’t have to explain something like this.
Also, way to basically admit you think all Merlin stans get off on child torture. So much for “If you like Merlin as a character, you’re valid”, am I right? God, what a mess of a post. (It’s been very recently deleted, which makes me wonder if she got more backlash on it, but just... wow.)
Let’s look at another one.
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Again. Vagueposting about someone specific, I’d wager, since most of the people I’ve seen comment on this topic either think both characters are morally gray, or hate both. 
But of course, when it comes to Morgana, suddenly excusing bad behavior can be justified. Ginger can call someone a disgusting creep because they want a familial bond between Jim and Merlin, that’s just wrong, but pushing the Mom-gana narrative with the genocidal abuser and Toby is completely fine, folks.
(Note: I would like to point out that I really don’t care about what theories and hopes people have for Morgana. You should be allowed to love that character in any way you want, same as I would say for Merlin. My issue with these examples is the completely brazen hypocrisy in which these two characters are treated. You’re obviously allowed to love Morgana without consequence, but the same should be said for any character of the show, and yet it’s not.)
The most obvious instance of this double-standard is well observable here, I believe: 
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... I think this mostly speaks for itself. Sorry, but this is very blatantly trying to excuse Morgana’s actions, here.
Oh hey, remember that post about Ginger saying that liking Merlin must mean you want to see Jim in horrible pain? 
Say anything similar about her with Morgana, and suddenly she takes issue with this line of reasoning! 
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I’m sorry, but if you can’t take this sort of thing, then you shouldn’t be dishing it out. One of your own friends is still getting hate over the simple fact of liking Merlin, and all this mentality is exactly why.
Let’s look at one more.
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Fun fact! Morgana horrifically abused somebody for centuries, tried to kill multiple kids, took horrible advantage of Claire (probably traumatized her), and canonically wanted to genocide humanity, not to mention all the OTHER murders she's committed, both directly and indirectly.
But somehow pointing any of this out “doesn’t count”. This is why the fandom keeps saying more and more things like this: 
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And this:
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I could be going through her constant hating on Merlin and people who like Merlin for days straight, but I hope you all get the idea by now.
Again, I would like to just reiterate: You can like whatever character you want for whatever reason you want. The problem with this case is the hypocrisy and mistreatment of others, not your taste in characters.
Now interestingly enough, she’s lately been singing a different tune about the guy, switching from the “I hate Merlin I hope he dies!!!” mentality to “Oh he should get a redemption arc too :)” sort of thing.
I’m highly convinced that the only reasons for this “change of heart” is because of the constant backlash she was getting for the obnoxious amount of hate posts being thrown around all the time, but also because Aaron Waltke keeps tabs on the fandom more lately, and has spoken himself about Merlin not being a villain.
I could go on about this point forever, but I think I’ll just leave the Merlin topic with this post going through the hypocrisy of the Merlin Hate Train. In fact, here’s two just for fun.
Now onto more real-world focused areas of hypocrisy. One such instance can be found in Ginger’s Janus Disorder server. 
Just take a look at this post.
While the offender in this case isn’t Ginger specifically, it still takes place in her server, and she made no moves to enforce her “No discourse” rule. All over... what? A random kudos on a fanfiction that’s not even about anything controversial since all characters involved are adults? I immensely don’t understand the point of why this ever had to be an issue, or why nobody spoke up about how ridiculous this is.
I’d also like to point out a certain user called firecat17. For some quick context, waaay back in the Kung Fu Panda fandom (around 2018), this user had been harassing people and saying incredibly vile things, a person of which Ginger had a bit of a feud, but firecat’s anon threats had gotten to the point where Ginger ended up having to block their IP. 
Obviously, the user firecat was the one in the wrong, here. (Also, the irony in this comment is through the roof...)
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Interesting point there, Ginger. Sure would be nice if you practiced what you preached.
Why am I bringing this random old drama up, you may ask? Well, it just strikes me as strange that someone who was so vile to Ginger is suddenly on her okay-list again, sending her asks and getting casual responses as if nothing ever happened.
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To be fair, there is the possibility that they worked out their differences in private. But given the severity of the kinds of words being exchanged, I would still find that rather suspicious.
When someone who’s said things so vile can be so easily forgiven, yet something as harmless as leaving a kudos on some random fanfiction is considered grounds for harassment, it’s obvious there’s no stability or room for trust among this group of people. Unsurprising when there’s been several instances of this “friend group” turning on each other.
If you think you’re somehow different, that your “friendship” with Ginger or the others is more valued than that, then I’m sorry to burst your bubble but it’s likely not true. She’d throw you under the bus at the hint of you doing something she deems problematic, as it’s happened to multiple blogs before you.
3. Demonization of and insensitivity towards s*xual abuse victims
(This topic is one that’s hard for me to talk about, being a victim of CSA myself, so I’ve gathered some different sources to do most of the main talking for me. I tried to form more commentary on this myself, but I get too emotionally charged in my responses, and I don’t want that to cloud any reader’s perception of what I’m trying to communicate here, so I’ll try to keep most of my comments brief on this one.)
One thing recently brought to my attention about Ginger and her squad that especially bothers me is their rashness in labeling people p*dophiles and p*do apologists. If these claims were true, then I wouldn’t have a problem with it.
But these people are accusing others of these horrible things and threatening them on the sole basis of fictional content.
Now before you fly off the handle at me, let me be very clear: I absolutely understand that there are gross people out there who use the “It’s all just fiction” argument to hide their actual, pr*datory behaviors. (We’ve all probably seen at least one or two neckbeard memes of that caliber)
But like it or not, exploring traumatic themes through a fictional lens is something that has been studied and proven to be a genuine coping mechanism for some. It’s not something that works for me, but I knew a few people from past therapy groups that it worked surprisingly well for. Bringing a trauma into a controlled environment and processing it through fictional means can and does help some victims deal with what they went through. 
It’s important to understand that not everyone processes their experience in the same neat, little boxes you have laid out as the only “acceptable” ways of coping. Trauma fiction and expressive arts therapy are commonly used by victims, and it does help some people, whether you like it or not.
I’m already dragging this on too much, so here are some sources for better-worded information on the topic (Warning: Most of these deal with highly sensitive themes such as gun violence and s*xual abuse.)
Source 1 - Source 2 - Source 3 - Source 4 - Source 5 (pages 61 onward, specifically) - Source 6 - Source 7 - Source 8 - Source 9 - Source 10 (and believe me, if those all don’t satisfy you, I can easily supply more.)
And this quote from source 9 I think sums it up best:
“Fiction works differently. My imagination gives me a framework to process the grief and terror and the consequences, even when I myself have not found any resolution. It allows me to enter my own traumatic experiences sideways and linger inside them, if I know I can give them to characters who might be lucky enough to find the antidote: love, connection, community, family. In other words, I can enter — and exit — the trauma loop through stories that are not exactly the same as mine.
This goes for the reader also. Recent studies periodically assure us that stories — literary fiction, hardcover books, even the simple act of reading — promote empathy. We rarely have identical experiences, so fiction is how we practice linking our similar or parallel realities so we can feel them. This seems particularly useful in our current society, where we are all so separated, and are working so hard to block the violence that keeps happening to us from our minds.
Fiction connects us, and it can also contribute to our healing. When we see ourselves in worlds we don’t live in, like The Handmaid’s Tale or The Color Purple, sometimes, that very different violence helps us finally process our own. Because as much as our memoirs and testimonies are brave and validating, fiction does not just mirror our truths so they are safe to experience; it also helps us endure the aftermath. Because long after the immediate experience is over, survival struggles onward, in every moment of our daily lives.”
While most professionals have in the past advised that victims keep their trauma-related works more private, to only show it to your trusted friends or family, the fast-growing use of the internet has led more people to sharing it in an online platform, which is not unexpected behavior.
I unfortunately don’t have the screenshot of the original post, but there was a post made some time back literally telling a fandom member to go and hang themselves over this garbage. A survivor of s*xual abuse, no less. And to top that off, one of Ginger’s squad @emmy-puff commented in support of that violent post, as well as blatantly misgendering the target of it. While, again, I was unable to get screenshots, there are multiple witnesses to this instance, one Anonymous even having called them out on it back when it happened. (I suspect that Emmy deleted that answer due to how bad it made them look.) If anybody reading this has screenshots of the initial post or the ask that came of it, please feel free to share.
I don’t care who you are or who you’re talking about, if you use misgendering someone as a way to hurt them, then you are an insult to the trans community. That is an awful thing to do, and you lose so much credibility if that’s the only thing you can fall back on when getting in a fight with someone. While this post isn’t about Emmy specifically, this is exactly the kind of hateful rhetoric that’s being encouraged in the environment Ginger’s made.
Another thing I would like to point out on this matter is an instance that happened in the ToA fandom a couple years back. I, again, don’t have screenshots available (I believe the original post ended up deleted) but the post in question caused enough of a fuss that I’m sure a few people must remember it... 
A while back, there was an artist that posted uncensored, untagged r*pe art of Aaarrrgghh, Gunmar, and Jim in the main Trollhunters tag. As you can imagine, this infuriated many people. Many of which are among the list of those who’ve been labeled “p*do apologists”. Almost the very minute that post showed up in the tag with no trigger warnings of any kind, the fandom immediately got on OP’s tail about it, because they all shared that basic understanding of “This is a traumatizing subject for many people and they should have the ability to avoid it”. If the people you’ve labelled as pr*dator supporters were really as awful as you say they are, they would’ve jumped to that person’s defense, too. But they were completely against OP’s horrible lack of consideration of survivors, right alongside the rest of the fandom.
Am I saying you have to like trauma fiction? Absolutely not. Are there people that make trauma fiction that are actual pr*dators? I’m sure there are. But those people would be that way whether trauma fiction was out there or not. Gross people have existed and will always exist regardless of what media is out there.
I deeply understand the controversy, uncertainty, and stress that surrounds this topic, I promise you, I do. But the fact of the matter is, some people actually do use trauma fiction and expressive arts therapy as a way of coping, as has been observed in people even from ages as young as 5. To say otherwise is blatantly untrue. This isn’t a matter of opinion or morals, this is plain, studied facts that you cannot change about human psychology.
Nobody should ever have to go through something as horrible as s*xual abuse of any kind, and I know how deeply upsetting it can be to see certain images or stories with those themes in play. Those users with a sense of decency and understanding for fellow victims will tag their posts with the appropriate warnings. After that, it’s up to you to filter out what you don’t want to see. You curate your own internet experience, and it’s just plain irrational to try and harass everyone into conforming to your rules. While it’s an 18+ blog’s job to make sure to tag and label their content appropriately, it is your job to block the things you don’t want to see, whether you’re an adult or a minor. It is YOUR job to blacklist content that you know will upset you, because it is always going to exist on the internet, and any internet user needs to know and understand that. Multiple times I’d seen people going off about posts that were already appropriately trigger-tagged. If you don’t have those upsetting tags blacklisted by now, then the fault is mostly on you in that kind of case, not the OP.
Before I end this topic off, just one more example of blatant disrespect towards victims:
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I’m sorry, but the absolute nerve of comparing some random fictional character you’re petty over to an actual pr*dator who’s terribly hurt real children is just awful. Imagine how insulted one of Onion’s victims would be if they saw that. Lord.
Ginger claims to care about victims, but she’s made it abundantly clear that she only cares about those that behave the way she think a victim should.
4. Ableism 
I’m going to just show a couple posts here and let them mostly speak for themselves. 
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Just... my God. You looked at the definition of psychopath and decided that was enough to give you qualification to speak like this about it? Do you realize the extensive work and study of human psychology goes into the diagnosis and understandings of psychopathy? Not to mention, you just admit to thinking people deserve hate because of a mental disorder they legitimately have no control over? I’m sorry, but that is just cruel. Demonization of the mentally ill is not cute or funny. Next.
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While I’m still annoyed with Emmy’s transphobic treatment of another user mentioned earlier, they make a very solid point in this instance. (The first post they referenced has since been deleted, but here’s the second one speaking out against the ableism.) I feel I don’t need to add much to this, as these points have already been argued very well by users better qualified to speak on the subject than I.
5. Manipulation tactics
This part is more observations of two kinds of abuse tactics Ginger appears to demonstrate, using the above as points of reference. 
First, there’s DARVO.
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Then, less formally, there’s this good point about online cult mentality.
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Before you say anything, obviously I don’t think Ginger thinks of herself as some sort of deity. While it could be argued that she considers herself a point of authority within the TOA fandom maybe, I haven’t seen enough of this to say for sure how far that goes. So that point can be ignored, because it mostly doesn’t apply in this case. (The “Dictating parts of your online life” might also not apply, but I can’t say for sure as I haven’t gotten any confirmation of that sort of thing in Ginger’s group.)
But there are grains of truth in the other four points, especially that last one. Plain and simple, she’s made people afraid to speak their minds about even harmless things such as character analysis.
Ginger is someone who can’t seem to comprehend different viewpoints and life experiences. She’s extremely unsympathetic towards people she doesn’t understand, as can be observed in above examples. Assuming malicious intent from everybody you can’t understand is a dangerous and hurtful mindset to have, for both you and those who you unnecessarily scorn.
There are a few outcomes I’ve speculated should she ever come to see this post.
1. She will ignore this post completely, pretending as if it doesn’t exist
2. She will dismiss me as being some sort of horrible person, a p*do apologist or something of the sort (despite being a victim of that myself, clearly she doesn’t care about who’s actually been hurt by real p*dos or not if they don’t conform to her narrow worldview), and claim nothing I’ve said bears any meaning, despite the extensive evidence I’ve provided.
3. She will get people to try and attack me. 
4. She will actually address these points in a tactful, mature, and serious manner instead of her usual act of trying to dismiss everything at the slightest hint of non-conformity. (The least likely outcome, but one can dream.)
I could add to this post all day, but it’s long enough as it is and my focus was on getting the main points out of the way. I understand that I lack some of the receipts necessary to back myself up in a few parts, but I know that many other fans have bared witness to those things, so I know there will be at least some people who’ll know what I speak of is true, and that’s good enough for me.
That being said, if anybody has screenshots of the instances I wasn’t able to provide for, it would be greatly appreciated if you could add them into the conversation.
!!!-If you have screenshots, but are too uncomfortable to get involved in this, then you can private-message them to me and I would be grateful and more than happy to add them in while keeping you completely anonymous.-!!!
(I've removed the section with all the tags, as I recognize it was probably going overboard. My goal was just to spread information, not to try and involve those tagged, but I understand how that may have gotten lost in translation and made people uncomfortable. Also, it apparently was showing up multiple times in people’s notifications when I only tagged people twice, so I’m not sure why that glitch happened, but I apologize for that annoyance as well.)
Now, to end us off, my responses to questions or angry comments I’m probably going to get:
You don’t even have all the evidence! How are we to know you’re not just lying about some of this?
Admittedly, I don’t have as much screenshot proof as I would like, that’s true. But for most of the instances I couldn’t provide for, there were other witnesses to her bad behavior. I don’t really have the need to lie when there’s already a lot of knowledge out there of the bad stuff she has done. Nor do I really have the emotional investment in this fandom anymore to lie for the pointless reason of causing drama.
Why post this on a throwaway account if you think people are on your side?
I just don’t really want my main blog associated with TOA anymore, to be frank.
You tagged a bunch of people, so you must be trying to get them to attack Ginger!
No. I tagged a bunch of people because I think this information should be heard on a wider scale, considering the position Ginger has in the fandom. I don’t want her or anybody else to be attacked, but her negative impact on this fandom deserves to be acknowledged.
Again, I don’t think Ginger or any of the others deserve harassment or cyberbullying or anything of that manner, that’s kind of what this whole post is against. And it just hurts the situation more than it helps it. What bothers me is how she’s never apologized for or even once acknowledged the gross way she’s treated people. While she might be more low-key about it now, she still treats people who don’t deserve it like garbage. There are still several people upset about the damage she’s caused to this fandom, rightfully so. I wouldn’t be so loud about making this post if I didn’t think it was something worth drawing attention to. 
Thank you for reading.
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merlinssaggyyfronts · 4 years ago
Text
BBC Merlin Rewatch:
01x01: The Dragon’s Call
FIRSTLY THE FUCKING DESCRIPTION LMAO “Merlin, a young country boy” COUNTRY BOY AHAHDHSNDH IF ONLY YOU KNEW!!! ITS LIKE SETTING SOMEONE UP FOR DISASTER BUT THEN AGAIN THEY WERE SO LIKE I MEAN-
aw look at merlin all happy and smily, walking into camelot like he isnt going to witness the death of his best friend/king and basically everyone he loves
LOOK AT HIM HES SO HAPPY!!! HE DOESNT KNOW YET
“like everyone, he must live and learn” yo shut ur bitchass up lizard man u literally tried to murder everyone in camelot that one time
“his name: traumatised 😍😍”
AH YES THE OPENING!!1!1!-!-! AHHH THE AMOUNT OF HAPPINESS I FEEL HEARING THE OPENING
fuck ur bitchass uther no one likes u
“i pride myself as a fair and just king” sir didnt u like basically kill ur wife... and thousands of peo- OH MY GOD MORGANA BB ILY
oh jesus okay hes dead um chile-
“when i came to this land” wait i thought he was raised kn camelot brb i forgot im an idiot wait,,, does this mean before this it was the du bois family on the throne of camelot?? also, mired in chaos? u mean like.... before ur wife died and everyone was living peacefully? ....okay
“merlin, seeing a person who's been stated had been studying magic get beheaded: [a magical being himself] ah,, welcoming.” -my gf
“since the great dragon was captured” ....so did no one think about where they put a dragon?? a captured one at that. ud think he’d be more smart but nah he just left a random ass dragon under his castle like THAT is going to end well
YUHH MARY COLLJNS HATE HIM!!! YELL BABEY YELL!!! “you took my son!” YES MURDER HIM OMG I CAN FEEL HER PAIN
“a son for a son!” omg why couldnt u have killed uther bb ur the perfect villain i love u ur literally just a loving mother i-
OOOOO GAIUS
.....why is there a bunny mask in there
why is thERE A BUNNY MASK-
why didnt merlins eyes glow when he dragged the bed to gaius to save him
also whats this slomo magic why didnt he do this after this why did season one haveso much magic and like every other season was just everyone throwing it back
like i get instinctual magic but like.... if its instinctual wouldnt it happen more especially when his powers get stronger-
gaius: what did you just do?!
also gaius, five seconds later: i know what it was!! i just wanted to know where you learned it
merlin: 😐
merlin, about his magic: i was born like this
gaius, who knows full well warlocks exist: impossible!
(are warlocks naturally born knowing how to use magic without learning? i mean if u have to learn magic like a sorcerer then whats the difference between a warlock and a sorcerer cuz wouldnt sorcerers atleast have to have some magic in them to actually cast spells? am i dumb or do i just not get it)
wait so merlin arrived in camelot on a wednesday
merlin, walking into camelot: it is wednesday my dudes
merlin: [witnesses an execution] aaaAAAAAA-
“someone that might help him find a purpose of his gifts” oh honey he’ll get something mUCH LARGER THAN THAT-
oH MORGANA
SHUT UR BITCHASS UTHER SHE WILL KILL YOU-
“the more brutal you are, the more enemies you’ll create” oh the waY SHE PREDICTED THEIR FUTURE OO
ah bless u lady helen/mary collins we love them spicy villains
...why do you have a dressing table in a tent
[watches mary collins murder lady helen] i never snitch on dadd- ...someone pls delete me
merlin, about his instinctual magic: i just do it!
gaius: ...lord have mercy what did i just sign myself up to
what ever happened to sir olwen did he die from accidentally overdosing
oHHH THERE HE IS THERE HE IS THERES MY BOY!!! MY LIL PRAT MAN!!!!
merlin looks so offended, oh god i could watch this whole scene for HOURS
oooOOOO YES MERLIN FUCK HIM UP!!! SHOW HIM WHOS BOSS
“do i know you?” “im merlin” “so i dont know you” ugh theres already sexual tension
“i would never have a friend who could be such an ass” “or i one so stupid”
also them, ten years later: “i use my magic for you arthur, only you” “just hold me” “i cant lose him! hes my friend!” “thank you..”
“tell me merlin, do you know how to walk on your knees?” OOOOH THE BOYS ARE FLIRTING
NOT THE “would you like me to help you?” SIR YOU ARE FLIRTING SO INTENSELY AND DONT EVEN REALISE IT SIR DO YOU KNOW YOURE FALLING IN LOVE
im convinced atleast half the knights with arthur were like “ayo thas kinda sus bro 😳😳 ayo 😳😳”
arthur: tell me merlin, do you know how to walk on your knees? would you like me to help you?
merlin: ....i really dont know how to answer that
imagine being paid to throw fruits at colin morgan omg id be so thrilled
OOOH HERE COMES OUR QUEEN GWEN!!! MY LOVE MY EVERYTHING YES ILY
gwen: well, arthur looks like one of those, save the world kinda men... and you dont
merlin, 1500 years later, having failed his destiny: well i mean you’re not wrong
gaius: uther banned magic a long time ago
merlin, flabbergasted as if he wasnt raised on tales of the death of his kind every day in the kingdom right next to his: why?!?!?
gaius: the dragon is imprisoned where nobody can free him
merlin:
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(that is the face of someone knowing full well hes going to free that dragon. look at him. he’s already made up his mind.)
[sees merlin and arthur in the marketplace] oh heres he is again heres the lil bitxh ooo theyre about to FIGHT
god hes flirting so hard without even realising it, oh my god
“i could take you apart with one blow” “i could take you apart with less” um sirs this is a mcdonalds drive thru 😃
arthur: ahah, you’re in trouble now~ 😏😏
i had to pause cuz wHAT THE HELL WHY DOES HE SOUND LIKE THAT-
....yall are yelling very loudly, um, arent there guards near yall? people passing by? please relax
“im just a nobody, and i always will be” OH IF ONLY YOU KNEWWW
“if i cant use magic, i might as well die” ....well, ive got a surprise for you-
“maybe theres someone with more magic than me?” like... a whole dragon? i mean if you say so 👀
merlin about why he was born like this: if you cant tell me, no one can!
a fucking dragon, basically every magical creature and the druids: WELL-
the camelot guards are so stupid how the hell is this kingdom still standing
how does kilgharrah know merlins name? in prophecy hes known as emrys (and we see basically every magical being call him emrys and not merlin,, i think). so how does he know? did he stretch his neck long enough that he could somehow hear merlin? is it cuz theyre kin? is it cuz merlin and gaius were yelling so loudly that kilgharrah could hear them all the way in his cave? ig we’ll never know 🖐
merlin: where are you?!
kilgharrah:
kilgharrah: without you, arthur will never succeed.
merlin: ....oh look, im already paranoid
the amount of sadness i feel hearing kilgharrah say “none of us can choose our destiny, merlin. and none of us can escape it” is INSANE cuz in season one you can SEE merlin trying to escape it. hes doing his damned best trying to have some control over his life. and then in later seasons you can see the light slowly drain from his eyes as he becomes just another toy for the gods to be entertained by. he realises he cant control a single thing about his life so he does the one thing he can: protect arthur. and he loses SO MUCH because of it! its not fair, he deserved so much, and when he finally got everything he could ever ask for, it was taken away from him by his own mistakes.
arthur, seeing morgana in a beautiful dress: god have mercy 😍
uther: .....um
the way they set arthur and morgana up as if they arent gonna make them siblings i- what the fawk 😄
person A, who knows arthurian lore: oh no! arthur is going to have an affair with morgan(a) and have mordred! oh no!!
person B, whos seen merlin: oh no in this show its worse
person B, knowing full well theyre siblings: much worse....
gwen: who’d wanna marry arthur? 🙄
-
gwen, getting crowned queen of camelot: well fuck
hhhnghnh yes queen sing them to sleep yes murder his bitchass (and fail but like its the thought that counts)
on a sidenote tho this is such a fun way to murder someone, id try this
the absolutely OFFENDED “FATHER!” and the horrified look in arthurs eyss when uther announced merlin would be his manservant is PRICELESS OMG
oh the way uther unintentionally plants the first seed of his sons love story omg 😍😍
Conclusion: this episode is a 10/10 greatest episode with so many iconic scenes omg. mary collins u will forever have my heart for unintentionally kickstarting merlin and arthurs relationship destiny. i loved the whole thing and oh GOD does it already hurt knowing full well how the show ends
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bellamyblakru · 4 years ago
Note
Hello!! Can I request “I should have been better” for Merthur with Arthur POV and like Merlin being so done with Arthur constantly making fun of him and calling him useless that he actually quits being his manservant and starts ignoring him and being cold to him, and then Arthur really misses him and practically begs him to come back? I wasn’t sure if I just had to post the prompt and the ship or actually add more details so there’s that hahaha I’m sorry, I’ll be happy with whatever I can get
I really like your writing btw ❤️
omg hello! this prompt was perfect, don’t worry!! it was really fun to write🥺 i appreciate you sending one and liking my writing🥺i adore u!! i hope this doesn’t disappoint 💞
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✨here it is on ao3 and ill post it here as well✨
Arthur watched over his parchment as Merlin tripped over another pair of his boots that he left on the floor last night and growled out, “Merlin. You are pathetic, why are you even in here? I didn’t call for you, did I?”
He meant for it to come out teasingly, but it fell extremely flat. Arthur was stressed, fed up with his group of elderly councilmen that never agreed with him, and, honestly, he needed to release some of the pent up anger that simmered violently beneath his skin.
So, he didn’t stop the unwanted stream of words that forced their way out, “And while I’m at it, would you please clean this room already? You’ve been stomping around here for hours and have accomplished nothing. I should just fire you, really. What good is a servant who barely does his job? You’re useless, Merlin, truly.”
Arthur scoffed, finishing his rant, his body feeling like it was on fire while still staring blankly at the speech before him, not noticing how still Merlin had gotten. After a few moments of uncomfortable silence where Arthur couldn’t even pretend to read, Arthur looked up at Merlin’s unmoved form. The man was standing completely still, facing Arthur’s door, his shoulders tense.
Arthur saw Merlin’s jaw move from this angle, “What did you say?”
Merlin lifted his chin, sharply spinning on his feet towards Arthur, “I quit.”
No mistaking the words now. Arthur’s mind halted, “What?”
Merlin still did not move from that spot between Arthur’s desk and the door, “I quit, Arthur.”
“Why?” Arthur couldn’t comprehend it. Merlin never gave up on him, even during their darkest hours. Why would he back out now?
Merlin let out a cold laugh, “Why?” he mocked. Arthur saw the lifeless smile grace Merlin’s face. He stared at his servant, never recalling seeing such a look before in the decade he has known him. Merlin was all smiles, laughs, and happiness. This Merlin? This Merlin Arthur had never seen before.
He didn’t like it.
Merlin let out another empty laugh, “Why, asked the king!” Another chuckle, “God, Arthur. I’m done. With you, with Camelot, with everything. It’s not worth it any more.”
Merlin’s smile fell off, and Arthur saw how pale his servant was. Arthur doesn’t think he looked at Merlin in days, or else he would have noticed before now, right? What was happening?  
Arthur leaned back in his chair, and griped the edge of his desk to hide his trembling hands, “Then go. What’s stopping you?”
Merlin’s eyes widened a bit, and Arthur saw how his body trembled from head to toe, and he didn’t know if it was anger or fear making his servant shake—he didn’t want to know.
“Okay,” he heard Merlin mumble, “okay.”
Merlin turned around and walked slowly to the door, and Arthur didn’t think he’d actually go through with it. It was always them against the world. Merlin wouldn’t walk out on them, no matter what.
When Merlin got to the door, his hand hovered over the handle. Arthur let go of his breath that he didn’t know he was holding when Merlin’s hand fell to his side, he wasn’t leaving him. He would never leave me.
“Arthur,” Merlin whispered, still facing the door, “I’m not coming back.”
Arthur’s brain couldn’t understand the words fast enough as he let out a small gasp of surprise when Merlin finally opened the door and raced out, shutting the door behind him with a loud thud.
Merlin had actually done it. He left him.
Arthur stared at the door, expecting Merlin to come back any second. This was a ruse. It must be. Merlin would never leave him.
Arthur let go of his desk when he saw how white his knuckles had gotten. It was late now, and he had an early morning. Shaking off the dreaded feeling filling him up, he stood up on shaky legs.
Merlin would be back in the morning. Every time they had fought before, Merlin always showed up the next day with a sheepish smile and a rare pastry in hand as a “we are idiots and let's move on” olive branch. But this felt different than the others. More...final.
Arthur shook the thought from his head, he was being ridiculous. Merlin always comes back, why would this be any different? Merlin knows how Arthur directs his anger at him sometimes, he must after working for him for ten years, and how Arthur never means what he says. He knew that, Arthur thought repeatedly, stumbling towards his bed.
Arthur sighed, laying down, remembering that he still never finished that speech on his desk and he frowned thinking, not for the first time, how unimportant it was compared to what happened with Merlin.
Arthur was exhausted, physically and, now, mentally as shut his eyes tightly, trying to stop the sound of Merlin’s cold laughter from echoing in his head, the sight of Merlin’s paling skin, and the noise of the door slamming shut in the wake of his dismissal.
Arthur shook his head knowing that tomorrow everything would go back to normal. It must.
—————
Arthur woke up to sunlight streaming into his chambers. He stretched lazily, yawning as he did so. He forced his eyes open, trying to figure out when he finally fell asleep. He felt slightly less sluggish, but his mind was still tired. He blinked at the offending sunlight, which he realized, jolting out of bed, that the sun was almost to it’s apex.
“Merlin,” Arthur grumbled, throwing on some clothes, “the idiot must have overslept. Guard!”
The guard outside his room immediately stepped in, “Yes, Sire?”
“Can you get someone to fetch my useless manservant? I believe he is late and has some explaining to do.”
The guard smiled, “Of course, sire.”
As he backed out the door, Arthur paused in his frantic searching for boots when last night’s conversation hit him again.
I’m not coming back, played in his head, but Arthur chuckled, like Merlin would leave his side from something as simple as a petty fight.
He continued putting on his clothes, and when he was done, he frowned at the closed door. He grabbed the papers for today’s meetings, and he decided that he would pass Merlin’s chambers himself on the way to the throne room.
Walking through his castle, Arthur felt like it was lacking energy today and he couldn’t figure out why. The servants rushed past him, without looking up, as normal, but the air felt thick with something Arthur couldn’t name. His frown deepened when he saw that Gaius’s room was opened already, and he walked right in without knocking.
“Gaius?”
The man in question looked up briefly from his book and looked back down, “Sire.”
Arthur stopped closer to the main table, confused by the man’s uncharacteristic coldness, and he cleared his throat uncomfortably, “Where is my manservant?”
Gaius stopped pretending to read as his eyebrows shot up, making eye contact with Arthur, “Sire, he quit. He told me that he told you.”
Arthur’s breath caught, his nonchalant expression changing to disbelief, “What?”
Gaius’s face portrayed no emotion, “Yes, sire, if that is all?”
Arthur stumbled back, “Oh.”
This wasn’t happening. Arthur turned around quickly, running towards the knights’ chambers, knowing if Merlin wasn’t with him or Gaius, Lancelot or Gwaine would be the next choice.
He knocked on Gwaine’s door first who answered after Arthur’s violent knocking became incessant.
“What?” Gwaine asked groggily, probably exhausted from his night shift.  
“Have you seen Merlin?”
Gwaine immediately straightened up, his eyes narrowing, “No? Why? Did something happen?”
Arthur backed up, “No, don’t worry about it.” And when Gwaine opened his mouth again, Arthur simply turned around and walked to Lance’s room.
The door was ajar, so Arthur lightly pushed it open to find Lance with his head in his hands, and his elbows on his knees on his bed.
“Lance?” Arthur whispered, listening to how Gwaine’s footsteps joined behind him.
Lance whipped his head up at the sound, and Arthur saw how red-rimmed his eyes were. Arthur’s breath whooshing out.
Lance got up, anger pouring out of his body in almost tangible waves, and Arthur backed up hastily. Lancelot never lost his cool demeanor.
Arthur hit into Gwaine who grunted and pushed Arthur behind him—placing himself in front of the extremely pissed off Lance.
Gwaine placed a hard hand on Lance’s chest, “Woah woah, steady now. How about we use our big boy words before we start punching princesses, hmm?”
Arthur tried to hide his flinched when Lance looked at Gwaine then back to him with murder in his eyes. Arthur knew only one person who could get Lance this worked up.
Lance roughly said, “Move, Gwaine. I need to punch something and I want it to be Arthur’s face.”
Even Gwaine blinked at the words, taken aback at the fury lacing Lancelot’s every movement.
“Gwaine, it’s okay-“ Arthur didn’t get to finish as Lance pushed Gwaine aside and promptly punched Arthur in the face. Arthur hit the ground, feeling blood coming out of his nose, as he cradled his face. He didn’t flinch as Lance landed another one before Gwaine threw him to the side.
Arthur stared at the ceiling, feeling numb. He deserved that, he mused, and probably deserved more.
Once the ringing stopped, he vaguely listened to Gwaine pushing Lance back.
“Lance, get a hold of yourself! Tell me what happened and I’ll probably join you.”
Lance was panting, his knuckles bloody, as he stopped thrashing against the hold Gwaine had on him, “Arthur, why don’t you explain what happened?”
Arthur ignored him, and Lance let out a dark chuckle, “No? Of course not, staying silent when you need to explain yourself is your strong suit.”
Arthur imperceptibly flinched this time, his numbness not leaving his body as Lancelot’s words felt like another blow to the face.
Gwaine coughed pointedly at Lance’s silent seething, “Alright, can you tell me already?”
Lance cleared his throat and forced his stare at Gwaine, “Arthur was an asshole again, not surprisingly, and Merlin..” Lance’s eyes watered a bit before he visibly shoved it back down, “Merlin had enough. And honestly? So have I.”
Arthur sat up then, his heart pounding, as the words clicked. He was losing his knight as well.
Gwaine sighed, “I knew this day was coming. I’m coming with you. I already had my things packed knowing this was inevitable.”
Arthur choked, “You’re both leaving.”
Gwaine had the decency to look sheepish, “Sorry. Merlin comes first, and well? Whatever you did, you probably wouldn’t want me around after I find out exactly what went down. I can’t imagine it would be pleasant.”
Arthur shut his eyes, rubbing his forehead, “Lance, wait, I’m coming too.”
Gwaine put a hand out when Lance tried to go at him again, “No.”
Lance shoved Gwaine off, “Hurry Gwaine, we are leaving soon.” And with that, Lancelot turned around, shoving his clothes in a pack.
Gwaine grimaced, walking around Arthur and hurrying down the hall back to his room. Arthur didn’t move.
“I’m sorry,” he said weakly to Lance’s back, “I didn’t—“
“Yeah,” Lance shoved his boots on, “you never do mean it, do you? Arthur,” here Lance sighed, his anger bleeding out of him, his exhaustion clear to see, “do you know how much Merlin does for you? How much he loves you?”
Arthur blinked again at the unexpected sadness in his words as Lance plowed on, “That man is the most selfless human being I know. And he can take a hit, trust me. He can take a knife in the stomach and barely blink at his own pain if someone else was hurt. I don’t even think you understand what you did.”
Arthur slowly nodded his head no.
Lance slouched onto his bed, staring at his hands, “Arthur. I have never seen the pure hopelessness that drowned in Merlin’s eyes when he came to me last night. He seemed so lost.” Lance shook his head and looked back up at Arthur, “In all the years I’ve known him, he always had purpose. Purpose at your side, always. When he told me what happened, not for the first time this week I might add, the look of devastation on his face, Arthur, I can’t even describe it. And it wasn’t the fact that you yelled at him again, he knows you do that without truly meaning it. You have been misplacing your anger at him the minute you met him. No, what pushed him over the edge was the fact that you did nothing to stop him from leaving. ‘Then go,’ really, Arthur?”
Arthur’s heart was beating unsteadily as he watched Lance wipe a hand down his face. He fucked up, royally.
Arthur’s breathing picked up when the enormity of the situation finally caught up with him. Merlin had left, and it was entirely his fault. He deserved to be alone. He had been horrible to the one person who meant more to him than Camelot, and the only words he had for him was to leave. To leave his side. Arthur put a hand to his ribs, his breaths coming in faster, the space where Merlin should be felt like a void—Merlin was out of reach, no longer his.
Was he ever his?
Lance finished packing and stood up a few moments later. Gwaine arrived right when Lance started walking to the door.
Arthur looked up at his two knights, and even though he knew better, he still felt betrayed by their leaving. But he had no right to keep them here when the one person tethering them to Camelot has gone.
They didn’t look back as they walked out the door and left, and Arthur didn’t move for hours.
—————
Arthur found his way back to his chambers, his hands empty, his heart straining, and his head pounding.
They were all gone.
Lance, Gwaine, Gwen, and Merlin—gone. He found out about Gwen after he entered the throne room later that day and it didn’t surprise him. Her and Merlin were best friends, and her and Lance were practically married—so, no, it wasn’t a surprise. But, it still hurt.
Arthur walked to his window that faced the courtyard, the moon already high in the sky. He made it through an entire day without Merlin and he has never felt more empty in his life. Merlin was the only constant in his life. He was the light that drove away Arthur’s darkness. Merlin’s laughter was sometimes the only thing that kept Arthur going, and now? Now, Arthur had driven him away. Like everyone else in his life.
Sleep didn’t come easily that night.
—————
He woke up late again, he realized, as forced himself to leave the bed. His soul felt like it was cleaved in half. How can anyone go on like that?
He walked slowly to his desk, frowning at the small sigil laying on his papers. He picked it up, flipping it in his hand. His mother’s sigil was his most prized possession, until, that is, Merlin stumbled into his life and forced his way under Arthur’s skin and, most importantly, his heart. He gave it to Merlin when he realized that, of course, figuring that his most prized person should always hold something dear to Arthur.
It felt cold in his hand. There was no note with it, to Arthur’s great displeasure, as he plopped down at his desk. He was an idiot. Last night, he replayed the conversation over and over again. The way Merlin reacted to his words, the jaw clenching, the stiff way he barely held himself, the cold person who replaced his sunny Merlin.
Arthur noticed his shaking again and let go of the sigil. This wasn’t right. This wasn’t how he was meant to rule. His rule meant nothing if Merlin wasn’t at his side.
And with that thought, he grabbed the sigil, a small pack, and raced out his chambers.
—————
Arthur ran to the stables, “How long ago did they leave?”
The stableboy blanched at Arthur’s appearance and stuttered out, “A few candle marks ago, sire.”
Arthur nodded, putting his saddle on Llamrei, and hopped on, “If anyone comes looking for me, tell them I’ll be back before nightfall,” and with that, he raced out.
The wind felt sharp against his face as he galloped towards Ealdor, feeling, for the first time in a long time, that he was finally making the right decision.
It didn’t take too long to find them, actually, as they were cleaning up the camp from the night before still about two candle marks away from Camelot. At Arthur’s approach, Gwaine unsheathed his sword and pointed it at him.
“Arthur,” Gwaine said angrily, coming closer, “If you come any closer, I will skewer you. I promise you that.”
Arthur jumped off his mare, his hands raised in surrender, “I just need to talk to him.”
Gwaine growled, walking towards him, when a pale hand grabbed his arm.
“Gwaine, it’s okay,” Arthur heard Merlin’s say, his heart skipping a beat at the sound. He missed that voice with his entire being and it’s barely been two days.
Gwaine scowled, backing down, as Merlin walked gently around him towards Arthur towards the edge of the camp.
Merlin walked past Arthur, who just stared at his servant, to Llamrei. He started petting his mare, who basically purred against Merlin’s ministrations. Arthur wasn’t surprised, she always did prefer Merlin to him.
Merlin looked up at Arthur’s silence, the question in his eyes.
Arthur cleared his throat, “Merlin, I-“
Merlin narrowed his eyes when Arthur couldn’t come up with the words, and he sighed, “Arthur, go home.”
Shaking his head, Merlin went to go around Arthur when Arthur’s hand shot out to stop him. Merlin stared at the hand grabbing him, his body promising violence if Arthur didn’t let him go.
Arthur spun towards him, and he felt tears unwillingly forming in his eyes. He cleared his throat again, “Merlin, I can’t go home. It’s not home anymore.”
Merlin shook off Arthur’s grip, folding his arms over his chest as he stared back at Arthur expressionless, “What?”
Arthur shook his head, angry at himself for being unable to speak how he feels, “It’s not home without you, Merlin.”
Arthur swore he saw Merlin soften a bit at that but then Merlin closed himself off again, scoffing, so Arthur quickly went on, hoping his heart would be able to beat normally after this, “I should have been better. Merlin, you deserve better. And I’m sorry. I should have ran after you, I should never have said for you to leave, because I never want you gone. I fucked up. Big time. I was stressed and angry and you were there and fuck,” Arthur wiped his face, “Merlin. I’m sorry! I was an asshole. I’m constantly an asshole to you, I know, but I’ll be better. I promise. You don’t deserve the way I treat you. You can do so much better than me—Gods, I know you can. But,” Arthur took a deep breath, unable to look at Merlin, “But, I need you. You make me a better person. You give me a purpose. You make me want to live, Merlin, and I need you at my side.”
At the end of his speech, he finally gained courage to look up at Merlin. Merlin was silently crying and Arthur’s heart broke as he whispered, “You aren’t coming home, are you?”
He heard Merlin’s small gasp and Arthur went completely motionless as Merlin flung himself at him, wrapping him in a bone-crushing hug.
“You’re an idiot, Arthur Pendragon,” Merlin whispered into his neck when Arthur’s shock turned into him squeezing Merlin back, “An idiot who I love, unfortunately.”
Arthur buried his face into Merlin’s neck, “I’m so sorry, Merlin, please come home.”
Merlin pushed back Arthur a bit, so he could see Merlin’s face, as both of Merlin’s hands found themselves on either side of Arthur’s face, “Alright.”
Arthur made a wet choked sound as he smiled for the first time in days, “Yeah?”
Merlin smiled, his tears falling freely as he stared back at Arthur, “Yeah.”
Arthur laughed, pulling Merlin into another hug, “Never again, Merlin, I swear on my crown. I love you.”
Arthur pulled back from Merlin when he heard a cough from next to them.
Lance had one hand on his sword, “Arthur, if you ever hurt Merlin like that again, I will make sure we are long gone by the next morning where you can never find us again. Are we clear?”
Arthur didn’t hesitate, “Yes. I understand,” and Arthur watched as the relief flooded through his knight.
Lance pulled Merlin into a hug and whispered something into his ear, and when they pulled back, Lance smiled at Arthur, “You should thank Gwaine for slowing us down, sire, or we would have been in Ealdor by now.”
Gwaine pouted, “I was doing it on purpose, thank you very much. I knew the princess would come crawling back without his other half.”
Merlin blinked at his friend, then a small smile of disbelief formed on his servant’s face. Arthur tilted his head at the knight, “You knew I would come?”
Gwaine looked at him condescendingly, “Princess, have you met you? You wouldn’t last a day without Merlin. Clearly,” he pointed at the extremely disheveled Arthur, “I was right.”
Arthur looked down at himself and frowned, “You’re right.”
At that, Merlin faced him again with surprise written on his features, “He is?”
Arthur sighed, grabbing Merlin’s hand to intertwine their fingers, “Yes, how many times do I have to say that I am nothing without you at my side. I couldn’t think straight, or eat, or sleep, without knowing you were safe, and that you hated me.” Arthur shivered at the thought, “Merlin, you are my other half. Of course I can barely last a day without you!”
Merlin’s tears were back, to Arthur’s horror who thought he fucked up again, but as Merlin’s lips crashed into his, and with Lance, Gwen, and Gwaine’s clapping and whistling in the background, Arthur finally thought that maybe everything would be alright in the end.
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halothenthehorns · 3 years ago
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All in the Family
Chapter 92: Priori Incantatem
Lily was still crying as she crash landed once more, rolling several times and coming to a painful halt. Even as her impact caused what felt like bricks to fall all around her, she merely lay where she was, curled into the fetal position, trembling fingers pressed against her lips as another sob broke free. She hadn't stopped for so long now, it seemed impossible she ever would. It was too much, all too much to take in, and yet a fourteen year old boy, her boy, would be going through it all alone.
"Oh come now dear, it can't be all bad."
Lily sat up with a painful gasp, shuddering in fear and just a few more lashes of pain at her own stupidity for letting her guard down. Just because it had been so long since they'd seen another person didn't mean it couldn't inevitably happen! She was now far more familiar with her seven companions voices than she ever would have believed possible, could pick any of them out in a crowded corridor now, but she didn't know that one!
She forced her bleary eyes to focus, she had to know if there were anymore dead bodies around, nobody had started reading yet and Merlin knew what was happening- then she gasped a wet, snotty, painfully disgusting noise in relief to see it was a portrait. Tisking away at her, eyeing the mess she made.
It was not the only one in here, but the one speaking to her nonetheless in a kind, gentle voice. Despite her aged face, it held a hint of youth in it Lily didn't quite understand until she wiped yet more tears from her burning cheeks and saw the now familiar, kind hazel eyes shining out. The name plate underneath read Carinthia Potter- Nee Greengrass. Coughing slightly, shoulders still shaking with the force of it, she looked around again to find herself in an opulent library. She'd knocked over almost an entire bookcase, the evidence scattered all around her. Portraits of other Potters that had married into the family scattered the rest of the free space, and as she looked over her shoulder, she saw a tapestry woven together pyramid style right into the wall from floor to ceiling, of the far more direct line. There, on the bottom line where the last strip showed James Fleamont Potter, there was a piece of red string tacked on, and a sticky note proudly bearing the name Sirius Orion Black right next to it.
She tried, and failed, not to laugh. She sat down back on her bum, feeling like one as she buried her face into her knees. Of course they'd wind up here eventually, James Potter was probably going to be as miraculously alive as his friends and swope in to save young Harry and probably bring Cedric back to life and defeat You-Know-Who all while hopping on one foot. She sighed in exhaustion as the sounds of ruckus finally reached her ears, even the faint echo of someone calling out her name. She tipped her head to the side and peeked out through her hair at the door, waiting for someone to come barging in even as a few more tears trickled out. She wasn't going to bother to hide them. She was too exhausted to do much of anything else.
It was finally Lupin who stumbled through the door, like he was trying to see how fast he could dart in and out, but came to an outstandingly poor halt when he actually caught a flash of her. They stared at each other for a solid thirty seconds before he turned around and bellowed over his shoulder, "I found her!" Then he turned back to her, still rubbing his lined face in exhaustion. "Merlin Evans, you could have at least come and told us you were still alive before being alone."
She didn't understand the snappy tone he used, or why he even cared. She was well past that point, as Cedric's body still flickered behind her eyes every time she blinked. She just sat there like a useless, hopeless lump.
He stood there for another few awkward moments before finally turning to leave, she heard a quiet, muttered conversation not far down the hall now, but whatever he'd said to deter Potter had worked no better this time than any other time he'd ever tried. Yet when he came in, Potter was sanse swagger, for once. She wondered if it was due to his still limping, that instead of strutting around like usual, he walked almost casually to her side. "Alright Evans?" He asked softly.
"No," she managed through a still clotted throat.
He nodded, like that didn't surprise him, and instead looked around with bemusement. "Ah, sorry you had to wind up in here, not exactly my favorite room. Tradition and all that it even exists," he gestured vaguely over his shoulder to the family tree. "I think your portrait would have been the only thing I liked about this place," he added with a self congratulatory grin.
"Brilliant Prongs, really," Lupin called from where he was still listing on the door jamb. "Why don't you add a glib comment about Smith landing in your room of all places, I'm sure that'll also brighten her day."
"Don't be crass Moony," Potter rebuked cheerfully, "obviously we'll be going on our date through the secrets of Hogsmeade before she ever sees that!"
The snap came easily to her lips. "Not if it was between you and the giant squid!" Even to her own ears, it sounded far more exasperated than belligerent as usual. She almost couldn't believe what she was hearing, how did he still manage to smile like that despite everything? Maybe he was touched in the head, like she'd said many a times long before now.
He smiled unrepentantly and promised, "that can be arranged on the tour. Until then Evans," he gave her a grand, sweeping gesture worthy of the highest monarchy as he bowed to her, and then turned and grabbed his friend's shoulder, steering him from the room.
She didn't know if he'd had the book this whole time, or if he'd found it in here while she'd been distracted, but only moments later Lupin's tired, strained voice enveloped her and the whole mansion with the words, "Priori Incantatem."
A charm, she recognized at once, to show the last spells a wand had used. What could that have to do with Harry? Were they going to get a highlights of his last moments, his last desperate bids for survival before You-Know-Who finally killed him too, extinguishing the Potter line? Would his body materialize in this very room, like his name on the tree would in only a few years time?
Sirius looked around in surprise to find himself in 'his room,' or so James had dubbed it since his first visit here. He really didn't know why Prongs bothered, Sirius actually preferred to sleep at the foot of his bed most nights when he stayed over. Still, his personal things did seem to end up scattered in here more often than naught.
Several of his limited edition Chocolate Frog Cards were being used as bookmarks in his Muggle magazines he hadn't dared take back to Grimmauld place for their personal value, an old letter to Moony sat innocently on the windowsill, and several piles of clothes had turned into freshly laundered and folded piles of clothes since he'd last been here. It was exactly where he'd needed to be, he felt safer in this spare room than he ever could have dreamed he would in Grimmauld place. The effect was ruined by Regulus' surprised black eyes flitting around, taking in everything same as him.
He didn't dare look at him or he'd burn the little twits face off. He couldn't stand to be around anyone but his friends right now with how furiously murderous he was, the last thing he needed was hearing Regulus trying to defend Peter's future actions! Peter! He had to go check on him, could barely stand now to let him out of his sight until he found a way to fix this permanently.
"Sirius-" but Sirius didn't stop and acknowledge him this time, he had to find his real brothers. He grabbed a shirt at random from the pile as he stalked out without a backwards look.
He breathed only mildly easier when he heard Moony start reading as he traversed the wide, brightly lit hallways of the Potter Manor. What they were still hearing of was monstrous, he already knew he'd have been there for Harry to keep him away from those Death Eaters if he could! Being in this home only reinforced the boiling hatred he had for every one of them out there, laughing as his fourteen year old godson was sent to duel V-Voldemort. He had to find a way to fix this, for Harry to grow up knowing this as his home as surely as Sirius now did.
He froze in fury as he passed Mr. and Mrs. Potter's room to see Frank standing awkwardly in the middle. Some small part of him recognized this wasn't his fault, but that didn't stop him pushing the ajar door all the way open and coming inside to shoo him out.
Frank only had to look at him to take the hint, not speaking a word to each other as they went down opposite ends of the hall.
Regulus found he was still sniffling and trying not to cry, still wanting to beg Sirius to come back and not leave him in this strange place even if he was long gone, had been for years now. He felt open, exposed in this brightly lit room, in a stranger's home that Sirius had looked upon with more love than anything he'd ever seen.
He didn't know what to do, there was only a hopeless feeling left clinging to his curdled stomach. Listening to Harry duel the Dark Lord was a true nightmare, the only boy on earth who could ever survive such a thing certainly wasn't now, being used like a play thing instead with the Imperius Curse upon him. Once Harry died though, would they really be free of this? What hope did he have to go back to? He had nowhere else to turn to, not like Sirius did. Would Peter just laugh at him and tell him to figure it out while he and his friends went back to Gryffindor tower? Would he have any choice but joining the Dark Lord's inner circle? He couldn't decide if he'd been relieved, offended, or terrified to find himself not even mentioned like many of his cousins had been during the previous part.
Sirius finally sighed in relief to find him in the Potter's kitchen, stuffing his bags and pockets full to bursting with more food, though an entirely absent look on his face. He was clearly manhandling the peanuts into a side pouch on autopilot, though it was odd still not to see Pippit, the Potter's house-elf, wandering around helping him. It had been weird enough not to see them flitting about the Hogwarts kitchens.
A bit of shame welled up in Sirius as he watched him, his right arm in particular, confirming to his own head repeatedly there really was no Dark Mark there. His imagination had run wild with him while he'd gone around here, the graveyard they'd just left still clinging to his mind like mist. This was still his Peter though, not the mangled creature of the future doing nothing to help Harry as he should.
Peter looked up then and caught him staring. He gave an awkward sort of grin and held his hand out expectantly, and Sirius wordlessly handed his bag over to be shoved full of food next, the silence still odd between them, but no longer as awkward as it could have been. The ghost of Prongs and Evans having a hand in rescuing Harry, possibly the oddest peace maker they had, as a reminder of what they had to lose.
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alice-beaumont-ravenclaw · 4 years ago
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A Night to Remember (Part 1)
A/N #1: It is finally here! The Celestial Ball fic!!! 23 pages total, hence why I divided it into two parts and will also insert text dividers so that if you can’t read it in one shot, you can easily find where you were. Here are the other fics in the series: You’ve Got a Friend in Me | Distraction | Something There | One Step Closer | Fashion Emergency | Get Your Head in the Game | Der Walzer von Alice | Of Quidditch and Ballgowns | From Paris, with Love 
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There was only one day left before the Celestial Ball. The last exam before the Winter Break had been less than a week ago, so everyone was busy preparing for the ball. Alice and her friends were helping Penny complete the decorations in the Great Hall. Many students could be seen running around Hogwarts as they tried to finalize their ball outfits or tried desperately to find dates.
“Why is everyone so desperate to find a date?” asked Alice as she handed Penny a star.
“Because it’s way more fun to go to a ball with a date,” explained Penny, as she hung the star.
“Really? But it looks so stressful to try to get one. If it weren’t for the fact that prefects are the first ones to dance, I would just have gone with all you guys. Do you have a date for the ball, Penny?”
“I was so busy with the decorations committee that I just asked Andre,” she replied, hanging another star.
“Thanks a lot, Haywood. Now I feel really special,” shouted Andre, near the ceiling on his broom, hanging decorations.
“Come on! You said yes because you don’t have the guts to ask the Hufflepuff seeker to the ball,” replied Penny, acting fakely offended.
“I don’t know what you are talking about,” said Andre before flying to another section of the Great Hall.
“What are you talking about?” asked Alice, handing her friend a big moon.
“Andre has a thing for Artemon Spooner, Hufflepuff’s Seeker. Another player told me that, when they practice together, they spend most of their time flirting with each other,” replied Penny.
“Why would a Keeper practice with a Seeker?” asked Alice, looking at Andre before bringing her attention back to Penny.
“Excellent question! Probably why nearly all Quidditch players know about the crush they have on each other,” said Penny, rubbing her chin.
“But why don’t they just admit it to each other?” asked Alice.
Penny stared at her as Alice looked back with her wide eyes. “Well, sometimes, it’s not that simple. Fear of rejection plays a huge part in whether you are willing to reveal your feelings to someone or not.”
“But… They flirt with each other. So… Isn’t it obvious they have a thing for one another?” asked Alice, scratching her head.
“Oh, some people can be oblivious to that. Believe me, I’ve seen it,” said Penny, looking back at her friend with a small smile.
“Really? When?” asked Alice, but before Penny could say anything, Charlie ran up to them.
“Alice, it’s time for our last dance practice,” said Charlie, pointing at his watch. 
With that, Alice and Charlie walked out of the Great Hall together. Penny looked at them leave, a small smile gracing her features. “Merlin, she’s oblivious,” she whispered as she shook her head.
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In the evening, when Alice finally returned to her dorm, the first thing she saw was Rowan looking mortified. She turned to see what was causing her friend such distress.
“Tulip!” she exclaimed, looking at the red-haired Ravenclaw.
“What?” asked Tulip as she poured something in a small cauldron on her bed.
“What are you doing?” asked Alice.
“A face mask mixture! I heard some girls talking about face masks to have smooth skins, so I figured it’d be fun to try one before the ball.”
“Hum… Since when have you been so… girly?” asked Alice, raising her eyebrows.
“She omitted to tell you her main ingredient,” pointed out Badeea, who was busy sketching on her bed.
“It’s dungbombs…” whispered Rowan, still staring at Tulip.
“Of course it is… Tulip, do you want to repeat the dungbomb incident of last year?” asked Alice.
“Well… It was technically this year, since we are still in 1988,” pointed out Tulip, adding another ingredient to her cauldron.
“Tulip…” grumbled Alice. “I covered your arse last time. I don’t think Flitwick would believe me if I told him you had an ‘accident’ again.”
“Ugh, fine, fine! I guess we won’t have soft skins then,” she said as she opened a window, dropping the content of her cauldron outside.
“Wait! Don’t!” shouted her three roommates, all running towards the window.
They heard a splash followed by a scream. They slowly looked out the window. All the way down on the ground was Filch, covered in Tulip’s mixture. They all quickly took a step back before he had a chance to look up.
“Tulip, slowly close the window,” whispered Alice. “Rowan, scourgify Tulip’s cauldron and hide it.”
“She can put it in my trunk,” said Tulip as she closed the window.
“Hide it from Tulip,” specified Alice. “We don’t want her to make our dorm stink or explode before the ball.”
“I just love how you trust me,” said Tulip.
“What can I do?” asked Badeea.
“Hum… Oh! You can sketch our alibi! Just draw Rowan reading and Tulip playing with her dungbombs.”
“What about you?”
“Well, I arrived moments before the incident, so having a full sketch of me doing something wouldn’t be very credible. So just a vague shape on my bed.”
“Alice, don’t you think it’s a bit much? It’s not like we are trying to get away with murder,” said Rowan.
“It’s Filch. He’s going to look for a culprit. He probably knows it came from the Ravenclaw tower. Which Ravenclaw do you think he’ll suspect?” 
“What can I say? He’s so fun to mess with,” said Tulip, shrugging.
Alice sat on her bed, massaging her temples. “I swear, Tulip… I have enough stress as it is with the ball fast approaching, I really don’t need the extra stress of Filch conducting an investigation.”
“Alright, alright. I’ll be nice until this is all over. I think I’ll be able to stay out of trouble for one day,” conceded Tulip.
“What about Winter Break?” asked Badeea.
“Oh, I’ll get to annoy my parents back home, so it’s all good.”
Rowan stared at Tulip before turning back to Alice. “Why are you stressed? Your dress is ready; you have every element for your outfit, you have someone to dance with… Oh!”
“Yeah… I will be dancing in front of everyone. Everyone will be staring. One false move, and I can already hear Merula laugh.”
“Why do you care so much about what Merula thinks?” asked Badeea
“I don’t really care about what she thinks, but she’s been a thorn in my side since our first day at Hogwarts. If I screw up, she won’t just think I suck; she’ll keep bringing it up, which is so annoying. There are days where I wish I could just cast Silencio on her,” explained Alice.
“Alice?” said Tulip.
“Hmm?”
“If Merula is an arse during the ball, can I use a dungbomb on her?”
“You have my blessing.”
“You sound like the Godfather,” remarked Badeea.
Alice looked at her before realizing what she was referring to. “Should I make her kiss my ring?” she said before laughing.
“Your godfather makes people kiss his ring?” asked Rowan.
“And he asks people to use dungbombs?” asked Tulip.
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The next morning, the Great Hall was abuzz with conversations about the ball. At the Ravenclaw table, Andre was busy suggesting various hairstyles to Alice. 
“What about Audrey Hepburn’s hairstyle at the beginning of Breakfast at Tiffany’s?”
“Too much,” replied Alice between two bites of toast as Barnaby sat next to Andre.
“What’s going on?” asked the Slytherin.
“Andre is suggesting hairstyles for tomorrow.”
“I don’t think you have enough hair to make that hairstyle,” said Barnaby as he looked at a picture and then at Andre.
“It’s not for me! It’s for Alice,” replied Andre, letting out a sigh. 
“I like Alice’s hair right now,” said Barnaby, looking at Alice with a smile.
“But it’s too plain! We need something amazing!”
Alice narrowed her eyes. “Thanks, Andre. But honestly, I don’t want a hairstyle that is too over the top. The dress is already dazzling, not to mention the hair accessory I have…”
“But…”
“Andre. I won’t be a contestant in a beauty pageant. I don’t need to outshine everyone. I just want to look good for myself. I want to be able to recognize myself in the mirror,” pleaded Alice.
“Alright, alright. Anyway, with the outfit I’ve put together for you, you’ll outshine everyone.”
“I have a question,” said Barnaby.
“Yes?” said Alice, turning her attention to her Slytherin friend.
“Where can I get a buccaneer?”
“A buccaneer?” repeated Alice, taken aback.
“In the Caribbean, about two, three centuries ago,” answered Andre. “Why?”
“Well, I heard Merula and Ismelda talking about it last night in the common room. Merula said her date better have one,” said Barnaby pensively.
“Kinky,” mumbled Andre, stifling a laugh.
“Did Merula say anything else about the… buccaneer?”
“Well, she did say she hopes the flowers won’t clash with her dress.”
At the mention of flowers, both Alice’s and Andre’s eyes lit up.
“Ah!” exclaimed Andre.
“A boutonnière!” said Alice.
“Showing off your French, Beaumont?” snickered Andre.
“Shut up,” mumbled Alice. 
“Wait, isn’t it what I said?” asked Barnaby, rubbing his chin.
“Not exactly… Anyway, a boutonnière is a single flower you wear on the lapel of your suit. So I guess you could go see Professor Sprout for one,” explained Alice.
“But it’s really not necessary. I wasn’t planning on wearing one, and Charlie’s suit doesn’t have any lapel…”
“Oh! Speaking of Charlie’s outfit…” started Alice, her curiosity piqued.
“Tonight,” replied Andre.
“Awww, come on! All he told me was ‘Dragons!’ I’m starting to imagine a suit covered in little dragons.”
“That sounds so cool!” exclaimed Barnaby, resulting in Andre staring at him.
“You know I would never do that,” said Andre as he kept glancing at Barnaby.
“Could you cover mine in bowtruckles? No, wait, puffskeins! Oh, oh, no, even better…” said Barnaby, visibly excited at the idea of a dress robe covered in magical creatures.
“No! Your dress robes shouldn’t look like a 5-year-old’s pyjamas!”
“Aww, come on, Andre, at least give him a little embroidery,” said Alice, drinking her tea.
“Ugh, fine… Can I go to Paris this summer?”
“Only if you shut up about you-know-what,” replied Alice, not looking up from her cup.
“Could you make me some PJs with all the creatures after?” asked Barnaby as he got up.
“We’ll see. Alice, think about your hair and your makeup while I’m busy with the man-child,” said Andre before following Barnaby.
“Be nice!” shouted Alice at him, smiling before taking another sip.
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Back in her dorm after breakfast, she stood in front of the mirror, playing with her hair and the tiara her grandmother had given her. She tried various hairstyles, holding her hair up, then half-up-half-down, her tiara at the top of her head, then at the back. She sighed and dropped on her bed, her face in her pillow.
“UGH!!!” she let out, the pillow muffling the sound of her exasperation.
“Are you ok, Alice?” asked Badee in a soft voice.
Alice looked up from her pillow. “Uh? Oh! How long have you been here?” 
“I just came in,” answered Badeea, sitting at the edge of Alice’s bed. “What’s going on?”
“I’m trying to figure out a hairstyle for tomorrow that goes with this,” said Alice, pointing at the tiara on her nightstand.
“Oh! It’s lovely!” exclaimed Badeea, delicately picking it up and observing its details. “The craftsmanship is amazing. Did Andre make this?”
“Hum… No… It was a… family friend,” replied Alice, unconvinced by her lie.
“I see,” said Badeea, a small smile appearing on her face as she glanced at Alice. “So, what kind of hairstyle are you going for?”
“Something simple. I don’t want to look like a wedding cake topper.”
“What about… a braid, going around the back of your head?” suggested Badeea.
“Like a milkmaid braid? Sorry, but I forgot my dirndl at home,” replied Alice, raising her eyebrows.
“No, no. Not a milkmaid braid. I was thinking more of taking parts of the hair at the side of your face and braiding them towards the back of your head until both met. Your tiara could go just underneath.”
Alice stared at her for a few seconds before jumping out of her bed and hugging her. “That’s brilliant!”
Startled by the hug, Badeea was rendered speechless. It was extremely rare for Alice to initiate physical contacts. She slowly tapped Alice’s back before the latter took a step back. 
“You think you could make a quick sketch for Andre? It doesn’t have to be super detailed, just for him to understand the idea,” said Alice. 
Badeea simply nodded as she watched her friend, who said a quick thank you, run out of the dorm. 
As she ran down a corridor, smiling brightly, Alice bumped into Andre, who was coming back from the Slytherin common room. 
“You look like you are in a hurry. Your cheeks are all flushed! Actually kinda looks good on you,” noticed Andre, staring at his friend.
“There you are,” said Alice, ignoring his remark. “Badeea came up with a brilliant hairstyle for tomorrow! Taking the hair at the side of my face and braiding them towards the back, like a braid crown, but only at the back, and we could place my tiara right underneath it! She’s going to make a sketch so you can see,” she said as she started to drag Andre in the direction she came from.
Andre stopped her in her tracks. “Woah, slow down there, Alice. Breath in, breath out. Now, I’m glad you figured out your hairstyle, but what about makeup?”
“Make… Up… Awww, great. I forgot about that… Well, I can already tell you that I don’t want to look like Cyndi Lauper. Her music is rad, but her overall look is a bit too over the top for me,” said Alice as she crossed her arms, leaning against a wall.
“Oi! I could make some suggestions,” said Tonks, who’s head popped up from behind Andre.
“No! After the Camden incident, I want your makeup ‘skills’ to stay as far away from me as possible,” exclaimed Alice, terrified at the prospect of Tonks applying her makeup.
“Do I wanna know?” asked Andre, looking between the two girls.
“Nah, just that little Miss Sloane Ranger here doesn’t like edgy makeup,” replied Tonks, doing her best not to laugh at Alice’s face.
“Edgy? I looked like a panda! So did you, for that matter,” said Alice with a huff.
“Sloane Ranger?” said Andre, raising an eyebrow as he stared at Tonks.
“Yeah… Think Lady Diana, Princess of Wales,” summarized Alice. 
“Oh… Oh!” exclaimed Andre, his eyes lightening up.
“What?” asked Alice, furrowing her brows as she looked at her friend.
But before she could say anything else, Andre had grabbed her wrist and had started running towards the Ravenclaw common room, leaving Tonks behind. Once inside, he dragged her to his dorm.
“Oi! Egwu! What’s going on? Why did you drag me all the way here? Am I even allowed to be here?” asked Alice, looking around the boys’ dorm.
“Yeah, you are,” said Andre as he started to rummage through his trunk. “Guys are not allowed in the girls’ dorm, but girls are allowed in our dorm.”
“Could you two keep it down?” said a voice behind them.
Alice turned around to see Talbott staring at them from behind his book. “Oh, sorry, Talbott. Didn’t see you there.”
“No wonder. You stormed into here,” grunted Talbott.
“I thought you would be hanging in the owlery like you always do,” said Andre, barely paying attention to his roommate.
“The owlery is too busy, people sending thank you notes to their families for the stuff they sent for the ball,” explained Talbott, his attention back to his book. 
“Oh, are you going to the ball, Talbott?” asked Alice.
“Nah, I avoid crowds,” replied Talbott.
“Oh, that’s too bad,” said Alice, a light pout appearing on her lips.
“Let him be…” said Andre, suddenly raising a magazine above his head triumphantly. “There! Found it!”
“What?”
“Your makeup inspiration! Princess Diana at Canne last year!” said Andre, shoving the picture in her face.
Alice took a step back to have a better look at the picture. “Oh! How lovely! It looks really natural and timeless. I love it! But maybe not the blue eyeliner I’m kinda seeing…”
“Don’t worry; blue wouldn’t go with your green eyes. I was actually thinking of forgoing the eyeliner, and simply go for blush and mascara, and perhaps a natural shade of lipstick.” 
“There’s just one problem… I don’t have any makeup with me.”
“Mmm… I might know where we can get some… To the Hufflepuff common room!!!”
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“Penny!” exclaimed Andre, standing beside Penny, quietly reading while her face was covered with a clay mask.
“AH!” screamed Penny, making her mask crack. “Ugh! Look what you’ve done! I’ll have to start all over again.”
“As if you needed a clay mask… We need your help, Penny. We finally figured out a makeup style for Alice, but we don’t have any makeup!”
“How the hell did we get in here…” mumbled Alice, looking around.
“What do you need?” asked Penny.
“Blush and mascara.”
“I can do the blush, but sharing mascara is very unhygienic.”
“We could use Scourgify on the brush?” suggested Alice.
“Every time I dip the brush in, I contaminate the product, so even if you clean the brush, it’s pointless.”
“Don’t you have a spare?” asked Andre.
“Well, I do, but…”
“Please! It’s for Alice’s big night. She’ll be dancing in front of a huge crowd with, you know, Charlie,” said Andre, winking.
“Huh? Oh!” exclaimed Penny, suddenly realizing what Andre was hinting at. Tonight might be the night the Dragon Boy and the Curse-Breaker would confess to one another. “Alright, you can have it. I’ll just go and fetch it.”
“Thanks for reminding me of the huge crowd…” grumbled Alice.
“Oh, you’ll be fine. You’ll be in the arms of Charlie Weasley, dancing to the sound of a waltz, in your own little world,” daydreamed Andre.
“All that’s missing is an evil step-mother, and we’d have a fairytale,” said Alice, rolling her eyes. 
“Oh, Alice, where is your sense of romance?” asked Andre, letting out a sigh as he looked at his hopeless friend.
“Andre, I don’t have time for romance. I have to protect you guys from ‘R,’ whoever that is, and I have to find the portrait vault. Romance would just be a distraction. Anyway, who would be interested in a danger magnet like me?”
Andre stared at his friend, letting out another sigh. Everyone could see how much Charlie was smitten with her, except her. “Fine, fine. Why don’t you go and eat lunch? It’s going to be makeover time after lunch!”
“Why am I afraid?” said Alice as she left the Hufflepuff common room, just as Penny arrived with the makeup.
“There! Alice will look like a fairytale princess for the big confession.”
Andre didn’t say anything as Penny handed him the blush and mascara. He just kept staring at the now-closed door of Hufflepuff’s common room.
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A/N #2: That’s it for Part 1! Part 2 is HERE! I hope you enjoyed it! Let me know what you thought in the comments! (Kinda fit this challenge’s “Ball” prompt...) Oh, and what are your thoughts on the text divider?
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imaginejamesandsirius · 5 years ago
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Anything with Slytherin Sirius pining over james and getting jealous when he thinks some Ravenclaw is trying to date james?? Anything like this please? Set in 6th year?
If there were two things true about James Potter, it would be that he's gorgeous and oblivious. He was also oblivious about being gorgeous, which was a completely separate problem. If Sirius were to make a list of everything great about James, number three would be that's he's great at Quidditch, and number four that he's stupidly good at Transfiguration. He had made a list once-- or at least started on it-- but he'd gotten to thirty before realising that it was pointless to keep track where someone could easily find. Everyone already knew he was great, there was no reason to leave around evidence that Sirius was fully aware of it too. 
That being said, he was pretty sure James thought Sirius hated him. This is where the oblivious part of James got dialed up to one hundred. Anyone else would've long since figured out that he was flirting, but no, not James. Apparently, he was becoming convinced that the professors were conspiring to kill him by always seating them close together. Sirius had tried, to no avail, to explain that they took the same classes that had small sizes, and for the ones where they had large classes, the professors had figured out that Sirius caused less trouble if he was next to James. So if it was a conspiracy about anyone, it was Sirius, not James. 
Speaking of conspiracies: Benjy fucking Fenwick. Benjy wasn't a bad guy-- far from it-- but in this moment, Sirius kinda wanted for him to spontaneously come down with the flu. Or a really bad cold. A little trifle to get him to stop talking immediately. They were in Defense, and for some reason Professor Archibald thought it was a good idea to leave them by themselves for an undetermined amount of time. And bloody Benjy decided that he was going to ask James on a date, with Sirius sitting right next to him, getting more irritated by the second. 
If it had been anyone else, they would have immediately understood what was happening and either said yes or no. But it was James at the height of being a dumbarse, so he said, "I normally go with Remus and Pete," when asked if he wanted to go to Hogsmeade with Benjy. 
"Right, but I meant would like to go with me instead of them this time." 
"They tend to argue if I leave them alone," was James's response, and Sirius rolled his eyes. 
"I'm sure they'd be able to survive without you for a few hours so you could have fun." 
James frowned, all confused, and Sirius decided that enough was enough. 
"He's asking you on a date. Merlin knows why you'd be interested." He glanced at Benjy and added, "No offense." 
Benjy didn't get a chance to answer because James got offended on his behalf. Or maybe not on his behalf because what he said was, "Hey, I'm a bloody catch." 
"What do you think I said?" Sirius asked. 
"You said you didn't know why I would be..." James trailed off, frowning. "Wait. Were you saying you don't get why I'd be interested in Benjy?" 
"Yes. Nothing personal," he said to Benjy. 
Thankfully, Benjy looked more amused than offended. "It's fine." 
"Why is it nothing personal? I'm confused." 
"Don't worry about it," Sirius said, giving him a condescending pat on the head. 
James scowled at him. "Don't be rude. And I'm not a bloody dog, don't pet me." 
Sirius put his hand back in James's hair and ruffled it. 
"I hate you," James sighed, pushing at Sirius's arm to get him to stop. "Anyways Benjy, I'm not really interested in you in the... dating way. Sorry." 
Benjy shrugged with an easy going smile that was at least a little bit faked because rejection was never easy, even if you weren't head over heels for the guy. "It's alright. I didn't realise you were already taken," he said, and then he walked back over to his desk. Because everyone was chatting with their friends and messing around casting spells, nobody else was paying attention to them. 
James tilted his head curiously. "Taken? Who does he think I'm dating?" 
"Probably me," Sirius said, since James wasn't going to put it together by himself, and it would be more embarrassing if he had to ask one of his friends for help understanding. 
"Why would we be dating?" 
Sirius rolled his eyes again because his other option was to snuggle him and call him a lovable idiot. "Maybe because everyone wants to?" 
"Well that's not true." 
Sirius gave him a flat look. "You didn't know that he was asking you out, do you really think that you have a good grasp on who fancies you?" 
"You don't fancy me." 
He didn't bother to change his expression. 
James blinked at him. "Wait, really?" 
Sirius didn't bother to answer, leaning his head into his hand and raising an eyebrow. 
"There's no way. You hate me!" 
"You're such a tosser." 
"See? You do. Stop being weird and go back to plotting my death or whatever it is you do to entertain yourself." 
If it had been literally anyone else, they would have realised that yes, Sirius fancied them. But oh no, not James. James had to have it said to his face and not get it. It's a good thing Sirius got rid of any semblance of pride back when he was thirteen and realised that nobody cared how seriously he took himself. If Sirius still had any pride, he would've rolled his eyes one more time and gone back to doodling on his parchment, but he had nothing better to be doing right now and talking to James was always fun (if exasperating). "You must think I'm awfully morbid." 
"Aren't you?" 
"Of course not. You don't plan someone's death, that's a good way to get caught." 
James knew he was joking, thankfully, but it was a bit up in the air how much he knew Sirius was joking. 
"In case you were wondering, that was a joke." 
...and now James was back to scowling. Great. "I know what a bloody joke is, thanks. And if our dumbarse professor isn't coming back any time soon, I'm going to actually have fun." James grabbed his bag and went to sit by Remus and Peter. 
Sirius huffed, his mood turning sour. Back to doodling it was. 
Benjy fucking Fenwick threw a wad of paper in front of him to get his attention. 
"What?" 
"He's pretty, but he'd dumb as a flobberworm sometimes; I wouldn't worry about it." 
"It's sodding annoying, is what it is." 
Benjy gave a sympathetic shrug, then went back to actually looking at the course work. 
Sirius glared at nothing in particular, wishing that he could just walk up to them and sit down. He had no pride sure, but he did have self preservation; he'd totally get hexed if he tried that. 
*
"Prongs," Remus said, pinching the bridge of his nose, "you know I would die for you, but you are so buggering stupid I'm about to kick you off of your chair." 
"What? Why?" 
Remus dropped his hand, staring at James flatly. Peter was giving him a similar look. "Are you serious, right now? Really, mate?" Peter said. 
"Are you going to clue me in?" 
"You've been pining after Black for how long? And then when he tells you that he fancies you, you accuse him of wanting to murder you? I'm sorry, Prongs, but there's only one way to explain that: you are a fucking idiot." 
"He didn't mean it," James said, affronted. He would've noticed something like that, despite what his friends thought about his observational skills. Sirius flirted with everyone! That's how he entertained himself, the same way James thought about the next Quidditch game and possible plays. "I would know if he had meant it." 
"Would you?" Peter asked. 
"Yes!" 
"Alright, mate. Let's say we believe that," Remus said. "What motivation would he have for telling you a lie like that in the first place?" 
"To embarrass me! He probably knows I fancy him and was going to humiliate me when I said that I fancy him too." 
"I thought you said Sirius Black is the physical embodiment of everything good and beautiful in the world." 
"He is!" 
"And yet you think he would do something like that to you." 
"He's great, I'm not. This isn't that complicated, Moony." 
"So you deserve the terrible things that happen to you?" 
"Well I wouldn't go that far, I'm not so bad when you get down to it." 
"So you wouldn't deserve it if he played that sort of prank on you?" 
James opened his mouth to answer, then paused. Frowned. "You're not my best mate anymore. Peter, you just got upgraded." 
"Fuck no. One, I agree with everything he just said, and two, I don't need the pressure that comes with that title. I am perfectly happy as the second best friend. It's where I'm going to live out the rest of my days, and you can't make me." 
"As your still current best friend," Remus said, pointing towards where Sirius was sitting, "I'm telling you to go ask him out and leave us alone until you need help planning what you're doing on that date." 
"He's not going to say yes." 
"You're wrong," Peter said. He sounded awfully certain about that, so James flipped him a v but go to his feet. 
"Fine. When he shoots me down, you have to get sloshed with me, and you don't get to complain." 
"Uh-huh." 
James sighed and walked back over to their desk. "Sirius." 
"Yeah?" he asked, looking up. 
From this angle, his eyes looked a very deep shade of grey that James kind of wanted to drown in. Seriously, how great would that feel? Maybe if Remus and Peter were right about Sirius fancying him-- which they weren't, but whatever-- he'd get to see them from even closer. "D'you want to go on a date with me?" 
Sirius blinked. "Are you joking right now? You turned me down like two minutes ago." 
"Well I had thought you were joking. Wait. Was that really you saying that you fancied me?" 
"Yeah, mate." 
"Merlin's pants, I'm going to have to tell Remus that he was right. Do you know how insufferable he is about that?" 
"I can't imagine it's nice." 
"Anyways, was that a yes? Because I totally thought you were going to turn me down and I don't have a plan." 
Sirius kicked the chair towards him. "Sit down, we can figure something out." 
"So it is a yes." 
Sirius chuckled. "Yes, it's a bloody yes, James." 
He sat down, then ruffled his hair as he thought of something. "Were you jealous of Benjy asking me out?" 
"How is it that you had no idea while it was happening, but now that it's past, you actually notice things?" 
"Bugger off, you were totally jealous. Aww," James cooed, "you were all jealous, that's adorable." 
Sirius laughed when James playfully pinched his cheek. "You're going to be absolutely horrible about this, aren't you?" 
"Yeah, there's no getting around that. Think you'll survive?" 
"Sod off, I'll outlast you any day." 
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lowkeysaurus · 4 years ago
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Queen of Mean ; Part 2
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summary: a recap of y/n’s escapades through the first two movies... before we get into the real story. pairings: harry potter/reader warnings: n/a notes: for the sake of the story, some things are not as they were in canon. an example of this, is that dumbledore appears significantly younger than how he is in the movies. Simply, I write him to be a slightly older version of Jude Law!Dumbledore.
Copyright Disclaimer under section 107 of the Copyright Act of 1976, allowance is made for “fair use” for purposes such as criticism, comment, news reporting, teaching, scholarship, education and research, thereby I do not own the rights to any of the characters shown in the below writing.
- SORTING CEREMONY - You remember it as if it were yesterday. Because you lived so close to the castle, you obviously didn’t have to take the train ride there- although, as it was part of the experience of being a first year, you did have to take the boat ride across the lake. Arthur and Flynn had previously assured you that you would see them on the other side, especially as they taught A History of Magic and Muggle Studies respectively, and those were both classes that were mandatory to take for the first two years. During the boat ride you’d become friends with two other girls, Aquila Crane and Lyra Prewett. Aquila was a very pretty, dark-skinned girl who wore her hair straight- you weren’t sure if it was a weave, extensions or her natural hair, and hadn’t felt like asking in the end, either. Lyra was also ridiculously pretty, with fairer skin, though not pale; and wore her natural hair proudly. They were boisterous girls, but that was fine, it was nice to have girls around for once. It went unspoken, but there seemed some sort of unspoken respect for each other through you all, as you quickly learned that Aquila’s mother was an auror who had been murdered, dare you say it; during the blast that had killed that boy, Peter Pettigrew. Lyra’s father had been Gideon Prewett, and upon learning that you’d wanted to start gushing about that story that Flynn had told you before- about how it took five Death Eaters to kill Gideon and his brother. They had both been great wizards. And then it came time to be sorted rather quickly. As soon as the doors flung open you immediately began searching for your cousins, and quickly found them, along with their grandfather. Flynn and Arthur sat on either side of Uncle Albus, though you’d have to start calling them by their surnames now; Professor Dumbledore, and the Professors Warren. There was a seat beside Arthur empty that you assumed to be the stern Professor McGonagall’s, and that sounded quite fitting, considering she happened to be Deputy Headmistress. You tried very hard to ignore the sorting ceremony, not wanting to spoil your mood when you heard their names, but even you were curious what house the heroic Harry Potter would be placed. It came as no shock that Draco was a Slytherin, your cousin’s entire line had been, but when it took almost two minutes to decide for Harry, your interest was piqued- and then the hat let out a mighty roar of “GRYFFINDOR!” You had immediately decided that you didn’t want to be a Gryffindor. Lyra was a Gryffindor like her father and his brother, and their father, and his father and so on, and she looked mighty proud of herself, was that tears in her eyes?; however Aquila had been sorted into Ravenclaw. Previously, it wouldn’t have struck you that she was pretty, but that was evidently stereotypes seeping in that no pretty girl could be clever, too. It wasn’t until after a Zabini, Blaise (who was a Slytherin), that you were called. The last person, as if that wasn’t daunting at all. The entire hall fell silent upon hearing the shaky “Black, Y/N” that escaped Professor McGonagall’s thin lips. You could feel each student and teacher’s eyes on you, and it was terrifying. You felt as if you were vibrating where you stood, however the encouraging gazes of each of your relatives, Flynn, Uncle Albus, Arthur and even Draco; pushed you onward. You lifted your skirt slightly above your knees as you ascended the stairs, and eventually you turned and sat on the little stool, and the hat was placed on your head. Its voice filled your head and you shook slightly, but otherwise remained silent and still. “Y/N Black, eh? It’s been a long time since I’ve had to sort any of you lot, Miss Black. And here, two possibilities; Gryffindor or Slytherin, you’ve certainly got the bravery for Gryffindor and the cunning for Slytherin, although I’m afraid to say you might be a little lacking on the kindness for Hufflepuff, Miss Black.” it mused, and you might have been offended if only you didn’t think it were true. Ever since seeing Harry Potter at Diagon Alley you’d been raving, to put it frank. Gerard had gotten fed up with it after less than a week.  “The only question is, which do you want to be in?” it asked, and suddenly your heart stopped. The hat was very smart with what it said and what it asked, and it had just asked you the hardest question there was for you to answer. It was as if it were asking ‘Do you hate Malfoy or Potter more?’ and that was not a fair question because blast it all, you couldn’t decide which of them was worse. So you said what you thought. “I don’t know.” only, your voice didn’t come out quite as strong as you’d have liked. It suddenly occurred to you that the entire hall was still silent, save perhaps various whispers. You could hear the soles of someone’s shoes as they walked up behind you and laid a hand across your shoulder, rough and calloused with thick, long fingers. Undoubtedly a man. “You may return to your seat, Professor McGonagall. I’ll stay with her.” and oh, Merlin. You didn’t want all of this fuss to be about you, you’d already come to terms with the fact that your very name would garner you more attention than you’d ever be comfortable with, and now Flynn had drawn even more attention, if that were even possible. You could hear McGonagall’s heels tap, tap, tapping as she returned to her seat.
“Pay no attention to them. it’s just us two, right now. if you must think of it as a... level of hatred for the two boys, to decide on your answer, so be it.” the hat spoke again, and you almost thought that everyone in the hall might be able to hear it. Oh, to hell with it. Your father had been in Slytherin, though nothing good ever came of being in that forsaken house, and your uncle had been a Gryffindor, not that you liked to think much of him and his affiliation with the man who killed your father. In the end, you decided on Gryffindor- but only for Lyra, you told yourself that night as you tried to fall asleep. For Lyra, and Flynn, and Arthur. - MIRROR OF ERISED - You followed Harry and Ron there the night before, under your own invisibility cloak. You’d seen the portrait open when they left, and stuck on your cloak to follow the sound of feet noisily slapping against the cold, stone ground. It had led you here, and after they’d left, you’d decided to look in the mirror yourself. You know, out of curiosity, just to see what you saw, since they both saw different things. You saw your parents, too. The sight had caused tears to gather in your eyes and you had nearly sobbed then and there, but you refused. This would be the only memory you ever had of them, although they weren’t truly there, and you couldn’t spoil it by crying. You’d seen you living at the cottage with your cousins and your parents. You saw your father wrap his arms around your waist and your mother lean her head on his shoulder, and your cousins smiling with their hands on your mother and father’s shoulders too. Explainable, really, why you would come back the next day- only this time, you walked in to see your Uncle Albus. With a name like that, you could see why Aquila, who had grown up with her muggle grandparents, had thought he’d look like some old man with a long, white beard and sparkly robes. But no, your Uncle Albus didn’t look that... daft. He was a tall man, with a short, bushy grey beard with a patch of white on his chin, and short grey hair that might have been blonde or brown once. His hairline, admittedly, had seen better days however. He wore golden, circular spectacles on the bridge of his nose, and he had large, kind blue eyes that peered through them with a gentle smile on thin lips. He wasn’t large around the middle, either, even after eating so well at Hogwarts for his extensive teaching career. He wore a blue three-piece today, with oxfords, and his grey-blue coat hung over his arm, the same colour hat in his hands. For his age, he still looked rather young. Aquila had been shocked, and you’d simply chuckled, but thinking back- if you knew your Headmaster was over one hundred, you’d be under the impression he looked like Merlin himself, too. But you didn’t have time to speak, for as you took off your invisibility cloak, Albus began speaking to someone else- and oh, that was Harry Potter. Here again? Two or three nights in a row, you supposed. You stood off to the side and let them talk. it was evident he was more interested in the boy than you anyway, you thought with a frustrated huff. Uncle Albus’ eyes flickered back to you as if he’d heard the thought, but he said nothing, and neither did you. "So," Uncle Albus started, slipping off the desk to sit on the floor with Harry, "you, like hundreds before you, have discovered the delights of the Mirror of Erised." Albus looked particularly deep in thought as he said that, leaning forward so that his back was hunched and his elbows rested on his kneecap, chin in hand. "I didn't know it was called that, Sir." Potter mumbled, and you snorted. His eyes flickered back to you, he looked, with his frazzled hair, as if he’d been struck by lightning in that moment- wide eyes and messy, and all that, and he seemed vaguely irritated at your presence. You smiled. Albus shot you another look, and your smile dropped, but even still you were glad you’d managed to irritate the great Harry Potter, even if it wasn’t as much as his mere presence enraged you half the time. If looks could kill, you supposed the Killing Curse would be shooting from your Uncle Albus’ eyes right about now. He returned to talking to harry, either way. "But I expect you've realized by now what it does?" "It -- well -- it shows me my family--" Your heart stopped. it shouldn’t have been that much of a shock to you as it was, you knew of his parents and how they’d died, it was part of the reason you loathed him so very much, but as your blood turned to ice in your veins it struck you that perhaps you and the boy with the lightning scar were more similar than you’d given your money’s worth for. "And it showed your friend Ron himself as head boy." he knew more than he let on, your Uncle Albus. It was his school, it had been his even when Dippet had been Headmaster- students tended to look to him for advice even when he was just the Defence Against The Dark Arts teacher. "How did you know -- ?" "I don't need a cloak to become invisible," Uncle Albus spoke gently. He stood then, gracefully as he was, and began to move about the room, heel touching the ground first and then rolling onto his toes with each step. "Now, can you think what the Mirror of Erised shows us all?" Harry shook his head dumbly, and you snorted. Both of them, this time, shot you a deadly look. "Let me explain.” Dumbledore began, leaning back on his heels and raising his head so that his face was pointed at the ceiling, as if he were thinking of just how to explain. His arms pulled behind his back and his hands linked, shoulders back as well. It struck you in that moment where each of your cousins and yourself had gotten your posture from. Finally, he moved again, and circled around Harry slowly as he spoke. “The happiest man on earth would be able to use the Mirror of Erised like a normal mirror, that is, he would look into it and see himself exactly as he is. Does that help?" oh. Albus smiled as if he knew that suddenly it had clicked in both of your heads, and it occured to you that in that moment, he wasn’t talking to just Harry potter, but also you. His smile seemed to grow. Harry spoke up, he sounded unsure beyond belief, but he voiced what both of you in that moment had been thinking. "It shows us what we want... whatever we want..." "Yes.” Albus nodded, and then stopped at Harry’s right side, tilted his head slightly to the right, raised his eyes to the ceiling and hummed slightly as he said, “And no.” “It shows us nothing more..” he continued on, finally explaining properly. he’d always had a tenancy to beat around the bush, hadn’t he? Sometimes you wish he wished he wouldn’t speak in riddles, although it quite added to his, eh, grandpa charm.  “or less than the deepest, most desperate desire of our hearts.”  and there it was, that explanation you’d been waiting diligently for, but he continued on, elaborating on points here and there that perhaps neither of you understood. “You two, who have never known your family, see them standing around you. Ronald Weasley, who has always been... overshadowed, by his brothers, sees himself standing alone, the best of all of them. However!” and he stopped with a jolt, you wondered if he was going to topple forward. “This mirror will give us neither knowledge...  nor truth. Men have...” he paused slightly, sighed, and continued. “wasted away before it, entranced by what they have seen, or been driven mad, not knowing if what it shows is real or even... possible, for that matter." “The Mirror will be moved to a new home tomorrow, and I ask you both not to go looking for it again.” suddenly his voice was stern, and any fragment of a smile he might have worn had left his face, to be overshadowed by a grim look, the corners of his mouth gently downturned. “If you ever do run across it, you will now be prepared. It does not do to dwell on dreams and forget to live, remember that. Now, why don't you put those cloaks of yours back on, and get off to bed?" Harry stood up, and you, who had already been standing, simply moved to place your cloak over your head when you stopped, the other Gryffindor’s voice pulling your attention. "Sir -- Professor Dumbledore? Can I ask you something?" and of course, curiosity would win you over, for you find your head turning to look at the young Headmaster and the Chosen One with barely concealed intrigue. "Obviously, you've just done so," Uncle Albus replied with a strained smile, as if he knew what question was coming and was dreading it. "You may ask me one more thing, however." "What do you see when you look in the mirror?" You sucked in a breath. You knew of the stories, most of the Wizarding World did, and though these days it was rather common knowledge that your Uncle Albus was gay, he still didn’t like to talk much about it- sensetive memories, you supposed, from a time when he’d had to hide his sexuality so heavily that he’d married a woman, Genevieve Prewett, and had children with her. Gerard refused to speak about it almost as much as your Uncle, and you knew that was because his father had been very... conservative, and had been rather ashamed of his father’s sexuality- had gone as far as to wed a Malfoy woman rather early in his life to escape him, actually. You wondered whether Genevieve had known, and if she had, what had she thought. "I? I see myself holding a pair of thick, woolen socks." You both stared, nearly dumbstruck. He, because it was rather a silly thing to see, and you because you knew much different."One can never have enough socks," said Dumbledore, as if to solidify what he’d said, though his gaze turned to me slowly. He didn’t look quite so happy now as when we’d first entered the room. "Another Christmas has come and gone and I didn't get a single pair. People will insist on giving me books."
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modreduscycle · 5 years ago
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Arthur’s Childhood Pt. 3
“Father! We have visitors!”
Ector froze then got up from his seat. That phrase always shot fear through him, his mind immediately jumping to the worst-case scenario even though it never was. Usually it was just someone from the nearby village looking for some extra milk or eggs or needing his skills as a knight: nothing major and certainly nothing alarming. Still, it was better to be safe than sorry. “Stay inside and play with your brother, Kay. I’ll see who it is.”
The five-year-old nodded and ran to Arthur and Ector’s room. It reminded him that it wouldn’t be long until the prince should start sharing a room with Kay. He was almost a toddler now, after all. Give it another year at most and he’d be too big for his crib.
Ector tapped the knife strapped to his belt to make sure that it was still there before opening the door and peering outside. The company of horses coming toward the house was still another minute away but he could still see who it was. A smile crept onto his face, despite seeing the king’s presence in the group, and he waved. Igraine took one hand off the reins for a second and waved back. He could see her bright smile from where he stood.
When they arrived, Uther ordered Ulfius and Merlin to take the horses to the stable while Igraine captured Ector in an ecstatic hug. “How have you been?”
“Good, things are quiet,” he replied, pulling away. “Arthur and Kay have been fine, too.”
“Just fine?” Uther demanded, overhearing. Ector couldn’t hold back his eye roll.
“Do you want me to say he’s doing backflips from joy?” he retorted before taking a deep breath and dulling the sass. “Your son’s healthy, happy, and growing up well. He was trying to climb the tree out back just yesterday and actually got to a really low branch with Kay’s help.”
That seemed to sooth Uther’s wrath but he still frowned. “He’s already walking?”
“He’s far past the age of first steps,” Igraine pointed out. “Morgana was running all over the castle at this age.” Her expression faltered and she turned away from Uther, her hands squeezing into fists. “Is he napping or can I see him now?”
“He’s playing with Kay, I’ll go get him. Make yourself at home in the meantime,” Ector offered. He turned around and reentered the house, walking into his room.
Kay looked up and Arthur copied the movement. “What’s going on?”
“Arthur’s parents are here to see him,” Ector explained, hoisting Arthur up into his arms.
“His parents?” Kay narrowed his eyes.
“Your godmother and her husband,” Ector replied. “If you’d like, you can come out and say hello.”
“They’re not taking him, right?” Kay asked quickly.
“No, no, just visiting. They’ll do this periodically, you’ll get used to it,” Ector assured him. Arthur wiggled in his arms, obviously wanting to go back down to his brother, so Ector left the room. Igraine and Uther were still outside but once she saw the squirming baby in Ector’s arms, Igraine dashed over to the doorway.
“Arthur!” She took him from Ector and held him close. “Mother’s missed you so much!”
Ector smiled and leaned in to whisper to Arthur. “Hey, Arthur? That’s your mother,” he said, pointing at Igraine. Arthur’s green eyes widened.
“Mama?”
Igraine gasped and tears welled up. “Yes, I’m your mama. I- I’m your mama…”
“I taught him that word,” Ector explained. “I think he probably remembers you a bit, too, so that probably helps.” He paused and frowned. “Of course, it did take me a while to get him to stop calling me that, so what do I know?”
“So he’s talking now, too?” Uther asked, sounding put-out.
“He’s going to start doing a lot of things while you’re away, might as well get used to it,” Ector replied. He had to take a second to remember to maybe put a muzzle on back-sassing the high king, even if he was a murderous, sociopathic tyrant. Actually, especially because of that. Ector pointed at Uther and got Arthur’s attention. “That’s your father.”
“Papa?”
The glare Uther had been leveling at Ector vanished in an instant. His face lit up and he was at Igraine’s side in an instant, cooing over his child. Ector felt something tug at his tunic sleeve and looked down to see Kay staring at the king and queen while half-hiding behind his father. Igraine was the first to notice him after Uther took Arthur from her arms to hold him for a little bit. She smiled and knelt down so she was eye-level with Kay. “Hello, Kay. Remember me?”
“Hello, Godmother,” Kay muttered, still clinging onto Ector’s arm.
Ector smiled down at his son. “He’s still a bit shy.”
“Am not!” Kay argued, but moved a little closer to his father.
Igraine laughed a little at his reaction. “How have you and Arthur been getting along?”
Kay perked up. “Great! I really like hanging out with him and Father says we can play outside together more in a few years when he grows up! We already do, but Father’s always there making sure we don’t get hurt and Arthur can’t really do too much yet.”
That got Uther’s attention yet again. He looked down at Kay and took a step toward him. Ector instinctively moved his arm between his son and the king. “You two spend a lot of time together?” Kay mutely nodded. “Do you consider yourselves brothers?”
Ector wasn’t sure what the right answer in this situation was, but Kay nodded. Normally, he was very enthusiastic about telling people about his baby brother, but right now he was subdued. Even he seemed to understand that Uther was dangerous, which made Ector a little proud. As much of a reckless handful as his son was, he at least had good instincts. “Yep, Arthur’s my little brother.”
Uther beamed and Ector relaxed. Right answer, good. Uther leaned down and ruffled Kay’s hair, making the five-year-old flinch. “Glad to hear it! You take care of him, okay?”
“Of course.” Kay sounded offended at even the insinuation he would do anything but, making Ector snort even though he tried to hold it in.
Uther didn’t seem to mind and ruffled his hair again. “Good.”
Merlin walked over, apparently done with the horses, and looked at the baby Uther carried with one arm. “Hello, Arthur! It’s been a while.”
“Mah…” Arthur reached out to Merlin, apparently entranced by the white hair as when Uther reluctantly let Merlin hold the prince, he immediately started tugging at the locks.
“Arthur!” Ector scolded but Merlin smiled.
“It’s fine, it doesn’t hurt,” the wizard said as Arthur continued to yank. “He’s just curious.”
“Still, he should learn not to do that,” Ector argued but let the matter drop. Igraine stared at her son as Merlin held him, obvious love in her eyes. Ector watched her for a few more seconds, then placed a hand on her shoulder. “How about we go inside and I’ll tell you some stories about him, alright?”
She broke her gaze and turned to face Ector, a smile slipping onto her face. “I’d love that.”
“Come on in, you’ll like the one about his first word…”
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friendlylocalwhumper · 6 years ago
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@badthingshappenbingo fill #7 - perhaps my goriest yet? yes, definitely some dark stuff. and oh so much fun to write.
Trope: Hand Gagging
Fandom: Merlin
Characters: Merlin, a visiting noble
Tags: blood, knife, punishment, class difference, hand gagging, screaming, obedience, blood loss
Word Count: 1,575
"I'm sorry, I really must-" "No," King Richard grabbed the manservant by the wrist. "You are to stay here." Merlin looked down at the hand holding him in place, and he blinked, taken aback. "My lord?" "You haven't arranged my chambers to my satisfaction," The monarch informed, his voice terse. "This place is in shambles." The servant glanced around the room, seeing nothing out of order. Most of Arthur's guests were impressed with the accommodations: linen smooth as silk, goose down pillows, bowls of ripe fruits. He wasn't sure what was so terribly offensive about the room. "I'm sorry, King Arthur specifically requested you be provided with only the best." "Are you saying that my judgment does not stand? Because I promise you, my word counts for a lot more than the opinion of a lowly servant." Merlin opened his mouth then closed it, rethinking his response. It was indeed his duty to cater to Arthur's guests, not to change their minds. "How can I make this right, my lord?" Helpful, docile, ready to serve. While it wasn't quite his personality to submit like this, he'd always been part of the lower class, and a servant was never meant to do anything more than serve. While shame may well up, and worry may sit like a stone in his stomach for fear of doing something wrong, it was his place here. "I'll tell you what you can do." The king smiled, his eyes cold, before he shoved the boy to the ground. Merlin remained where he fell on his knees, head lowered. "You can make this place suitable for a king." Merlin swallowed the lump in his throat. He hadn't the faintest idea what more he could do with the room - a handful of serving girls had arranged it, and it was some of the finest work he'd seen. There was nothing to tidy, to polish, to arrange or garnish further. He looked up, eyes flicking to the king's. "I'm not sure I can-" He was sent sprawling before he registered the blow to his face. The taste of iron in his mouth reminded him that kings wore rings, and those rings added quite the edge to a punch. "I told you what must be done, boy, now do it." Richard stood above the servant, who got back up to his knees, hand gingerly feeling his jaw. "I don't know what there is to do, my lord," Merlin repeated, quietly, knowing that was the wrong answer. Chillingly, rather than dealing another blow, the monarch chuckled. "Has your master never taught you to obey?" Merlin blanched at that. "Arthur would never raise his hand to a servant." "Well then he is weak. As are you. Someone ought to teach you your place." Richard stooped down, grabbing the servant by the throat. Merlin tilted his head back, rising with the royal's hold, but he daren't raise his hands to fight the grip. That would undoubtedly be seen as a sign of defiance. "Do you not find it proper to show your betters the highest respect, boy?" Merlin took a shallow breath. "You have my respect, my lord. I didn't mean to offend you." He watched Richard's distaste in the supplication with a growing sense of dread. "Do you know how we punish such behavior in my kingdom?" Richard asked ominously, his grip lingering somewhere between a mere threat and actually cutting off the servant's air. Merlin found it sickening that he was actually trying not to wheeze audibly for the sake of not bothering the man holding him by the throat. "I beg your forgiveness, it was my-" "Hush," The monarch hissed, kicking the back of Merlin's legs and pushing him to fall on his back. The warlock looked up at the king, still held by the neck, and he could only think don't use your magic, don't use your magic. He's a king. You'll be hung for laying a hand on him, let alone using magic against him. Don't use your magic. "In my castle, there are a few handmaidens and serving boys missing some digits." Richard pulled a dagger from its sheath at his hip. "Fingers. One is severed for each transgression. One may find greater loyalty, humility, and earnest hard work in my halls than anywhere else. Consequences, my boy." Merlin's eyes went wide at the words, the knife held above him. "You don't have to, I-I'm sorry, it won't happen again." "It's too late for that now. I'm helping you, really, don't you see? You haven't been trained well enough, you don't understand your place. I endeavor only to enlighten you." "Please, you don't have to," Merlin shifted, testing the weight holding him down. Richard was sturdy enough to have no problem keeping him in place, though his expression did harden at the movement. His left hand moved from the servant's throat to his mouth, pressing down to keep him quiet. Merlin's breaths came quick and shallow from his nose. This was happening. Though there was no reason for Arthur to be out of his rooms right now, Merlin wished desperately that the prat would barge in and help him. As the monarch above him used his free hand, still holding the dagger, to pin the warlock's left arm, he tried to calm himself. No magic, no magic, no magic. Don't scream, that's worse. No magic, not a sound. He was just a servant. Richard could kill him if he wanted and no one would bat an eye. "Now, this is going to be painful. It's for your own good, you understand? Don't forget to breathe, now." The king moved his hold to Merlin's hand, and the warlock tried to turn his head to see. Richard's hand over his mouth pressed down harder, kept him looking upward. "Trust me, boy, you don't want to see this. Eyes on me, if you will." That was worse, Merlin thought in a panic, staring up at the man that held him down, about to mutilate him. No magic, no magic, stay quiet, no magic. Just take it, it won't be that bad. His thoughts did nothing to assuage his distress, and as the blade pressed lightly at the base of his small finger, Merlin began to struggle despite himself. "Now, now, none of that," Richard chided. "You don't want to lose two, do you?" Merlin was shaking. The blade lined up once more. "I'll make it quick. Breathe." One breath. Another. Agony erupted in his hand, enormous for such a small injury. Merlin screamed bloody murder into the hand over his mouth, bucking futilely. Dry sobs were torn from his throat. His hand felt hot, a pool of blood steadily growing there, and he was terrified to see the damage. He wouldn't be able to turn his head until the hand was removed, and that wouldn't happen until he stopped making such ugly sounds of pain. "By the gods, wouldn't have taken you for a screamer. You've got some lungs on you, boy." The warlock shuddered and blearily continued his silent mantra. No magic, no magic. Too dangerous. "You'll be quiet, now, will you not? I wish to move before your blood gets on my robes." Merlin nodded feebly, and the hand was removed, along with the weight pinning him to the floor. A keening gasp left his lips as soon as he was free. His head turned, slowly, to see... There was a lot of blood. It was odd to see his small finger lying there, still, oddly foreign to him. He lifted his bloody hand, though he did not maneuver it to see the gnarled spot that once was his finger. He was afraid to see the blood flowing free there, to see bone. His stomach twisted sickeningly at the thought, and he let his hand rest back on the floor. He turned his head to look up once more. He stared up at nothing, eyes watering, a little lost in the pain. "Well, that is all," King Richard spoke calmly from a few paces away. "You may go." He couldn't. He wanted to, desperately, but he didn't think he could stand right now. His magic was still twisting beneath his skin, eager to burst out and protect him. Not that that was any use now. "Yes, my lord," The warlock answered softly. He began the movement to rise, his sight nearly fading out when getting up brought more blood to his hand, only to splatter wetly on the floor beneath him. "Try not to bleed in the corridors too much. It's unsightly." Merlin nodded, only half aware of his own body, and steadied himself on his feet. A few seconds later, he was in the corridor, and he blinked, unable to remember getting there. Time was moving strangely right now. A blink of the eye and he was in an entirely different hall. "Calm down," He muttered to himself, holding his aching hand to his chest. The blood seeped into his shirt, but he didn't care to notice. He should be returning to his room, or to Gaius on the way - he had to stop the bleeding. The warlock was flummoxed to find himself pushing Arthur's doors open. This was not where he'd meant to walk, but - oh, now he was inside the room, swaying on his feet. "Merlin?" "Arthur," The servant whimpered, and with that, his vision finally faded to black.
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lesbijkas · 7 years ago
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Spare Dreams
pairing: Cedric Diggory and Harry Potter
word count: 8.4 k
summary:Harry had basically hit gold and if they turned out to be school sweethearts like his parents (and Cedric’s parents apparently) well, that made everything easier. He could see them having a future with one another. They’d move in together after Harry was finished with Hogwarts. They’d eventually get a house, get married, adopt a kid or two. Maybe another owl to keep Hedwig company. It would be nice. Calm. Peaceful. It would be perfect.
           Most people liked to sleep in on their days off. As much as Harry would like to sometimes, his daughter, Lily, always woke him up early on Saturdays.
           Children had endless energy. They really did. Before having a child of his own, he thought it was a saying. It wasn’t. Harry wasn’t sure where it came from, nor did he know when it ran out (well, that was partially a lie- a day with George and Fred at their shop in Hogsmeade had her falling asleep into her supper at six), but it surely wasn’t even close to burnt out at seven in the morning.
           Harry shifted, trying to keep a smile from his face as Lily opened the bedroom door with an almost silent creak. She tip toed across the floor, avoiding the squeaky floorboard with precision, making her way to the bed while stifling giggles. Harry could picture her in her nightgown, her hands pressed up to her smiling mouth to quiet herself, hair curling around her face while mused with sleep.
           She quickly leaped on top of the bed with a yell, landing on top of someone who thankfully, for once, wasn’t Harry. Lily let out a squeal barely a moment later as she was lifted into the air by an arm peeking out from underneath the quilt. The lumpy shape Lily had previously pounced on shifted to bring her back down. Her legs kicked out in protest only to be grabbed by the free hand that had been lying in wait.
           “Papa!” Lily cried out, trying to get away. She wasn’t able to however, and was soon being tickled by wiggling fingers. “Papa, no, don’t. Daddy help me!”
           Harry sat up, a smile finally taking over his face as he tried to save his daughter.
           “Alas, you evil tickle monster, release the fair Lily, lest you feel the consequences,” he spoke pompously, moving to take Lily and safely tuck her away on his side of the bed only to let out an ‘eep’ like noise, which was very manly, as the wiggling fingers shifted to him rather than the six year old.
           “You have fallen right into my trap, doer and protector of good!”
           Harry tried to block the hands, laughing uncontrollably as they only moved out of the way to tickle somewhere else. Lily tried to help him. She latched onto one of the offending hands and refused to let go.
           “Oh - Merlin-” Harry gasped out, laughter cutting off his protests before he could even voice them. “Enough Cedric, stop! Stop!”
           Cedric only smiled brightly in response as he too sat up, gently lifting Lily back up and into his lap. He reached out to take one of Harry’s hands into his own, giving it a firm squeeze only to receive a look of mock disappointment as Harry squeezed back.
           “Can we have pancakes for breakfast?” Lily asked, gazing up at both of her parents with puppy dog eyes. The expression was clearly learned from Sirius, uncle Padfoot now, from the way her lower lip stuck out and how her eyes widened to make them seem larger. Her hands clasped together under her chin in a begging motion.
           “I don’t see why not,” Cedric told her, his eyes softening as she bolted out of the room cheering, soon running down the hallway towards the kitchen.
           Harry and Cedric watched her go before Cedric shifted to give Harry a kiss on the cheek, then his lips. Harry playfully scrunched up his face tugging lightly on Cedric’s ear.
           “You have morning breath.”
           “You love my morning breath.”
           “No, I really don’t.”
           “Are you sure? You did marry me, morning breath and all.”
           Harry snorted. Cedric kissed him again before he could retort, bringing a hand up to run fingers through Harry’s bed head.
           “I’ve been thinking,” he began, tucking a piece of hair behind Harry’s ear.
           “Very dangerous before eight o’clock.”
           “Yes, I know, but I have been despite the risks. We’ve had Lily for a few years now.”
           “Almost five,” Harry said.
           “Almost five,” Cedric agreed. “She has really settled in, and I know you’ve always wanted a big family. We’ve talked about it before, a lot.”
           Harry listened to Cedric speak, heart soon pounding away in his chest. Was Cedric..?
           “Do you think Lily wants a younger sibling?”
           Harry blinked, unable to form a response. Cedric’s hands had moved to cup Harry’s face, nervousness filtering into his expression. He wanted another child. He wanted to adopt and raise another kid. With Harry.
           Cedric was taken into a death grip the second his question was processed, Harry’s face pressed up against Cedric’s shoulder.
           “Yes, yes; thank you.”
           Cedric only smiled before pressing a kiss to Harry’s temple. Harry sat up to kiss the other properly, for once not saying a thing about morning breath. Their lips met softly, lovingly, trying to convey years of adoration with one action.
           “Daddy, Papa, c’mon!” Lily cried, sounding cross, from the kitchen.
           Cedric could only laugh as he pressed one last peck to Harry’s cheek. He moved to stand up, extending a hand to his husband.
           “Our princess awaits.”
           Harry had never felt happier than in that very moment. He knew he had said that once upon a time at his and Cedric’s wedding, but this was a million times better than any ceremony sealed with a kiss. Cedric stood in his pajamas in the early morning light, eyes still caked with sleep, love written across every part of his being as his eyes stared into Harry’s.
           “She does.”
           Harry wouldn’t trade it in for the world.
           Harry couldn’t believe it. He just could not, would not believe it. He was chosen for the Tri-Wizard Tournament. Him. Harry Potter. A tournament he didn’t enter, was too young to enter, and had never wanted to enter in the first place!
           How could Hogwarts have two champions? How could the cup have messed up? Cedric Diggory was supposed to be the champion. He had entered. He was of age. Hufflepuff deserved to have the champion spot more than anyone else.
           He slumped against the wall once he felt he had gotten far enough away from the room the champions had been in. It was always him in the end. He faced down dark lords on the back of people’s heads, sixty foot long can-kill-you-with-one-gaze snakes, and mass murderers who may or may not have been trying to kill him (depends on who you asked).
           Of course he would get entered into the stupid tournament.
           Why was he even surprised anymore?
           What was going to happen next year? At this rate, Dumbledore should turn out to be a death eater who likes to gut children on the nights of the new moon. He shuttered at the thought, letting his head hit the wall with a ‘thunk’ as he sank to the ground.
           Maybe he could write a letter to Sirius. Break a wrist or something so he couldn’t compete and spend the year with him and Buckbeak in Majorca. That sounded nice.
           Harry only groaned, discarding that train of thought almost as soon as he had formulated the idea. He couldn’t run away from his problems, as much as he would like to. He debated for a few seconds in his head on whether or not he wanted to go back to Gryffindor tower or fling himself from the astronomy tower.
           He chose the former, finally standing up and wincing as his knees cracked when he did so.
           “Um, Harry?”
           Harry jumped, whirling around to see who had spoken only to pause at the form of Cedric Diggory. He shifted on his feet, clearly feeling a bit nervous, as he put his hands out in a universal ‘I come in peace’ gesture.
           “Yes?”
           “Sorry, didn’t mean to startle you. I only wanted to make sure there are no hard feelings about all of this,” he made a gesture into the air, clearly meaning the whole ‘both of us being picked to be in the tournament despite the fact there was only supposed to be one champion per school’ situation, before he continued, “I also wanted to say that I believe you when you say you didn’t enter yourself into it. From all the rumors, you get into enough life threatening situations every year. I doubt you’d willingly put yourself in harm’s way for some money.”
           Harry looked at the other, momentarily speechless.
           “Wow, uh, thanks. I appreciate it.”
           They didn’t say anything else. Cedric only waved, still looking very awkward, before he walked away, leaving Harry alone in the hallway. He supposed Cedric wasn’t that bad.
           “Daddy, can I stay with uncle Sirius again sometime?” Lily asked, clutching her blanket up to her chin.
           “I’m sure he’d be happy to have you over again sweetheart,” Harry told her, making sure she was tucked in for the night.
           “Really?”
           “Really, really.”
           Lily smiled brightly at that, her cheeks flushing with happiness. Harry pressed a kiss to her forehead before dimming the lights in the room.
           “Good night.”
           “Good night daddy. I love you.”
           Harry paused in the doorway. His hand went to grip the door frame, shock quickly melting away to be replaced with a thudding heart. “I love you too.”
           He left the door open a crack so light from the hallway could serve as a night light. Harry walked back towards the master bedroom, repressing a yawn as he slipped his pants off to hang on the footboard of the bed.
           Cedric was brushing his teeth when Harry nudged the bathroom door completely open. He pressed a kiss to Cedric’s shoulder before he grabbed his own toothbrush. Cedric shot him a toothpaste filled grin in response, poking Harry’s calf with his already cold toes.
           They settled into bed together, the house quiet as they started to read. Cedric read that evening’s copy of the Nightly Owl while Harry read Quidditch Weekly. Cedric had already read it while Harry gave Lily a bath, as Lily had requested him that morning. She would always laugh as he made beards out of bubbles from the bubble bath solution and would try to give her a tiara or mustache.
          Harry yawned once, then twice, before he decided to give into his now dropping eyes. He took off his glasses, placing them on the bedside table on top of the closed magazine. The bed shifted as Cedric turned to his side to watch as Harry sprawled on his side of the bed, his face half smushed into his pillow.
           “You seem tired.”
           Harry turned to look at Cedric with a raised brow.
           “Really?”
           “And Lord Sarcasm makes his appearance.”
           “Bah.”
           Cedric only shook his head, which made his hair look like a big light brown blob to Harry for a few moments, before he set his paper aside. He scooted closer to Harry, tugging the other’s arm so they could cuddle together in the middle of the bed. Harry huffed against Cedric’s neck as Cedric’s hands came up the back of Harry’s shirt.
           “What’s up? You looked like Yule came early when you came in to brush your teeth.”
           “Lily said I love you after I tucked her in,” Harry told him, voice soft.
           Cedric ran a hand down Harry’s spine, “Of course she did; you’re the best father in all of wizarding Britain.”
          “She knows this is her home now. She thinks of us as her parents Cedric,” he paused, his cheeks growing hot while tears wanted to gather in his eyes, “I never thought it would happen.”
           Cedric pressed a kiss to Harry’s temple before he said, “If anyone deserves this, it’s you.”
           Harry sniffled.
           “No, we both do.”
           Cedric smiled. Harry could feel it and he could only smile back when Cedric agreed.
           “We both do.”
           Harry could only sit in misery, and a bit of teen angst as he was at that age, as Hufflepuff students ate their breakfast with their ‘Potter stinks!’ badges pinned proudly on their chests. He was pretty sure he also saw some Slytherins with them too (no doubt Draco probably thought it was a hoot) and the week really hadn’t been going well.
           Ron was jealous because Harry had managed to enter the tournament but didn’t tell anyone else about how to get past the age line. He didn’t believe Harry when Harry said he hadn't entered his name in the cup. Three years of friendship and he didn’t believe Harry! Why would Harry want to compete in a life threatening tournament when he could simply slap a sticker onto his forehead that said he was Harry Potter and have the life threatening situations roll in?
           Hermione, meanwhile, had found out about house elves and how they were essentially slaves. Oh, and you know, how Hogwarts had hundreds of them working every day the students were present. No big deal, other than the fact she was knitting like crazy in between class work to free them with newly knit clothes while the elves begged Harry (and anyone who would listen) to keep her away from them.
           And, quidditch really was canceled. There would be absolutely no quidditch whatsoever that year. The very thought of it made Harry want to burst out into tears and laminate about his miserable life. Oliver had already gone mental over it, the twins had too much free time on their hands without any practice to make pranks up to the professor’s eyeballs, and now there was no way for him to kick Draco Malfoy’s ass without getting in trouble (stupid Snape).
           So, in summary, life sucked and running away to Majorca was getting more appealing by the day.
           Harry sighed (the sixty third one that day alone) before he grabbed a piece of toast to take with him as he went to class. He had herbology and he really hoped Neville would be his partner again; the boy was a genius with plants.
           He walked towards the green houses, double checking to make sure he had his gloves only to stop short when he heard voices from down the corridor.
           Cedric stood with some of the members from the Hufflepuff quidditch team, a frown on his face. They were all wearing those stupid pins, well, actually; no. Cedric wasn’t wearing one.
           Huh.
           “I don’t see why you want me to wear one,” Cedric was telling them. “He’s my fellow competitor, but he’s also a Hogwarts student, one who didn’t want to be in the tournament in the first place.”
           “If he didn’t enter himself then who did?” someone asked, laughing as though it was a stupid idea.
           “People die in the tournament, what do you think?”
           “Wait, wait, wait; you think someone in this school wants Potter dead, so they put his name into the cup?”
           “He’s been killed almost every year; it really isn’t that farfetched.”
           Their voices faded as Harry finally walked away, a new respect for Cedric Diggory wiggling its way into his heart.
           “Do you have your scarf? We’re going out shopping once we tell the others the news!” Harry called out through the house, sounding giddy.
           “If they let us go after dropping the dung bomb of the decade, we’ll be going shopping.”
           Harry turned to see Cedric walking towards the entry way, his scarf already wrapped loosely around his neck, like usual.
           “A simple yes would have sufficed.”
           “Where’s the fun in that?”
           Harry only shook his head before roughly pulling on his coat.
           “We have so much we have to do. We have to paint and get furniture, not to mention toys and clothes,” he paused, eyes going wide, “Oh Merlin, we don’t even know what colors she likes, or what size she is, or if-”
           “Harry,” Cedric cut Harry off before he could work himself up. “We have time, and I have no doubts that everyone will want to help.”
           Harry let out a shaky breath, running his hands down his face to try to calm himself down. He was only partially successful, but it was better than nothing.
           “I know, I know. This is all just, so, well; it’s like a dream.”
           “Understandable. Now, you do have the letter, right?”
           “Do I have the letter? Do I have the letter? Do you have a brain up in that Hufflepuff head of yours?”
           “Okay, that was uncalled for.”
           Harry punched Cedric’s arm, lightly of course, before they finished getting ready. When all of the lights were turned off they apparated away to Hogsmeade.
           It was late November. The sun was already setting and snow covered every roof. Light flowed out the windows of shops and homes alike, setting the streets ago with warm yellows. It made everything seem that much more alive, as did the echoing laughter and voices being carried away in the wind.
           They made their way towards the Three Broomsticks hand in hand. Harry kicked up snow with the toes of his boots as Cedric moved to wrap an arm around the other’s shoulders. Their hips knocked together and they smiled at each other, cheeks rosy from the cold.
           It was warm inside. The bar was only half full while most of the tables were taken up by patrons. Harry unbuttoned his coat with one hand while searching the room for a recognizable face or head of hair. Cedric put a hand on the crook of his arm, pointing to a table towards the back where Remus was sitting speaking with Cedric’s mother, Beatrice. Amos was nodding along to whatever he was saying. Sirius was absent.
           “Here goes nothing,” Harry mumbled before they walked towards the three.
           Amos spotted them before they had made it to their seats, standing up to give both Cedric and Harry a firm shake of the hand. Cedric pressed a kiss to his mother’s cheek while Harry gave Remus a hug before they traded, Cedric shaking Remus’ hand while Harry received the second hug of the night from Beatrice.
           “It’s good to see you two. How have you been? What have you been up to?” Amos asked them both as they all sat down.
           “We’ve been doing well Amos, just yesterday Cedric managed to make overcooked pasta for dinner,” Harry responded playfully, earning a light laugh from Beatrice and a light kick from Cedric under the table.
           “I got distracted while cooking, I am normally perfectly fine,” he defended, no real heat in his voice.
           This got Amos to laugh as well, a quick hand patting Cedric a bit roughly on the shoulder.
           “I would hope so; you puttered around in the kitchen enough while growing up. Harry, I don’t know if I’ve told you this, but-”
           “Don’t you dare,” Cedric interrupted, pointing a finger in his father’s direction a smile still on his face. “He doesn’t need to know.”
           “Yes I do.”
           “No, I say you don’t so you don’t.”
           “How commanding.”
           “Boys,” Beatrice spoke up, her voice full of laughter. Remus had a hand pressed up against his mouth, hiding a smile.
           Amos opened his mouth to continue only to be interrupted again, this time by the arrival of Sirius with warm mugs of butter beer. He set them down in the middle of the table before pulling in Harry for a half hug with one arm, using his free one to ruffle Harry’s hair.
           “How is my favorite godson today?” he asked, taking his seat next to Remus.
           “I’m your only godson Sirius,” Harry deadpanned, earning an exaggerated groan from the man.
           Sirius clutched his chest with one hand, putting the other up to his forehead to show extreme hurt at Harry’s response. Remus swatted him over the back of the head with no real power behind it. The man corrected his posture in response before picking up his mug to take a sip, a pout now on his face.
           “Everyone is out to hurt me.”
           “Clearly,” Remus spoke from behind his cup, eyes dancing with mirth.
           They all settled into small talk as they drank from their warmed mugs. When Harry’s drink was half gone, silence fell comfortably, only to be broken by Remus quietly clearing his throat.
           “So, why did you call the parents together?” he asked, looking from Harry to Cedric then back again.
           Remus and Sirius had done more for Harry than he ever could have asked for. They could never take the place of James and Lily, but they had done their best to help Harry in whatever way they could. They encouraged him to follow his dreams, to be his best, and they told him everything they knew about his parents.
           “Well, we have some news, and we figured telling you in person rather than sending an owl would be a better choice,” Harry began, reaching into his coat pocket to take out the letter he and Cedric had been sent that morning.
           He placed it on the table, sliding it over to the others. He leaned up against Cedric, who wrapped his arm around Harry’s shoulders once more. Harry smiled at the action before continuing.
           “We got that letter this morning. Cedric and I have been approved to adopt.”
           The words sank in for a moment, then two. Sirius let out a whoop in response. Beatrice looked overjoyed, as did Remus, and Amos clapped his hands a few times.
           “Do you know who it is yet? When will they move in? Are you going to blood adopt them?” Sirius asked, rapid fire, eyes skimming over the letter again.
           “She’s fifteen months old and she will be able to move in after we get the house ready for her. Someone from the magical children affairs department will be coming by when we think we’re ready. With their okay, we’ll be able to bring her home the next day,” Harry looked to Cedric, who nodded. “We’ve been given the option to blood adopt her, and we will, alongside giving her a new name.”
           “Her last name will be like ours, hyphenated together. We wanted to ask if her middle name could be Beatrice; would that be okay mum?” Cedric asked, looking to his mother who agreed with a nod almost immediately.
           “It’s more than okay you two, you don’t even need to ask,” she responded.
           “Did you decide on a first name?” Remus asked, before Sirius could manage for once.
           “Yes,” Harry took in a breath, pausing, “Lily. We’re going to name her Lily.”
           Sirius went still. Remus’ eyes widened. Cedric reached out to give Harry’s hand a squeeze. Nothing was said; what was there to say? For once, Sirius didn’t even tease Remus for tearing up because he was crying too.
           Holy shit. Holy fucking shit.
           Dragons.
           The first task was dragons.
           Honest to Godric dragons.
           Actual fire breathing dragons that could kill Harry as if he was a soap bubble. One poke from a dragon and ‘pop!’
           He was going to die, they were going to die. Fuck.
           He didn’t want to die.
           He didn’t want to, so he wouldn’t. No, he wouldn’t. He would think of something. He would get out of the first task alive. Easily. All he had to do was make himself invincible to being killed by four breeds of dragon.
           Fuck. It sounded worse properly thought out than it did as an abstract idea.
           He ran his hands over his face, then through his hair, trying to calm himself down. He was terrified but he wasn’t going to let it show. He had to think. He had to be rational. There had to be a way to be stronger than a dragon. Smarter than a dragon. Faster than a dragon.
           That last one might actually work.
           Game plan in motion.
           He froze again, realization dawning.
           He knew about the dragons. Fleur would know about the dragons. Victor would know about the dragons.
           Cedric didn’t know.
           Cedric would be going up against a dragon and have no clue until the second the task started. He’d get burned alive. His pretty face and smile would be melted off the face of the earth.
           (Wait, since when was Cedric pretty?)
          Cedric didn’t know. But he was going to know. Harry could tell him. Would tell him.
           (Fuck.)
           Cedric looked over to see a tall pile of boxes with legs. He stopped himself from laughing as he walked over, letting his wand slide out of his holster along the way. One levitation charm later and Harry’s arms were box free. Said boxes floated away from the pair towards their soon to be bedroom. Clothes then, most likely.
           “You do remember you have magic, right?” he asked teasingly as Harry rolled his eyes.
           “I went to magic school for seven years. It’s kind of hard to forget.”
           Cedric laughed at the response, pulling Harry into a loose hug. Harry tucked his hands up against Cedric’s chest where he fiddled with Cedric’s shirt collar. Their living room was only half constructed. The walls had been painted a sunflower like yellow, and the kitchen would be eventually. They had decided on a light blue in their bedroom and a darker blue in their bathroom. Every other room had yet to be decided, but Harry was leaning on a deep red for the dining room.
           The other rooms would remain white until, well if, they adopted.
           Cedric tugged Harry over to the couch, dragging them both down onto it with a ‘whump’ from the couch cushions. Harry let out a hum, poking Cedric’s chin a few times. He had been aiming for his cheek or nose, but the angle wasn’t great.
           “I suppose you’re holding me captive?” Harry asked, smiling as Cedric wrapped his arms around Harry’s waist.
           “We’ve been carrying and unpacking boxes all day. It is getting close to dinner. You made me skip lunch. We need to eat dinner before we do anything else, lest I die of starvation,” he informed the other, trying to speak in a serious tone of voice.
           “What would you like?”
           “What do we have?”
           “Milk, a few pears, and some mustard.”
           Cedric made a face.
           “Take out?” Harry asked, shifting to get more comfortable. His husband made a good pillow.
           “Definitely.”
           They lapsed into silence, Harry’s toes wiggling against Cedric’s ankles.
           “Nap first?”
           Cedric took Harry’s glasses off to place them on the floor.
           “Nap first.”
           ‘Thank you, thank you so much.’
           Cedric’s words echoed quietly in his head, banging off of his skull over and over again until he had the memory of Cedric’s smile, his face half covered in burn salve, eyes glowing with gratitude as he thanked Harry after the first task.
           Cedric was pretty. Handsome. Stunning. Whatever word you’d use to describe someone good looking would work for Cedric Diggory.
           Harry didn’t think he was gay. He probably wasn’t, as he did have a crush on Angelina Johnson (if only for two weeks) once and he could appreciate a girl’s looks just as much as any guy. That being said, he could easily admit to also (probably) having a crush on Oliver Wood (for all of an hour, as he was too quidditch crazy even for Harry), the Weasley twins (which was just kind of awkward but still hot), Draco Malfoy (if only for the way he looked in quidditch robes, his personality left much to be desired), and the occasional bloke he’d see in the hallways and not even know (which included the one Slytherin in his year who was Italian and could sometimes be seen making remarks to Pansy Parkinson; his cheek bones were akin to that of a gods).
           He really didn’t know Cedric all that well. He knew he was nice, had a good set of morals, liked quidditch enough to play it (which was always a positive in Harry’s book), had a dazzling smile, had a voice like honey, had a melodious laugh-
           Okay, he was getting ahead of himself.
           He had a crush on Cedric Diggory, perfect Hufflepuff pretty boy Diggory, who probably only saw Harry as the kid who was forced to take a dragon head on. Not a big deal.
           He just wouldn’t say anything about it ever and eventually move on.
           He would try not to imagine what it would be like to kiss Cedric (even if his lips were kissable). Nope, he would put the thought out of his head and try to get his egg to stop screaming until his ears felt like they had to bleed.
           He wouldn’t think about his (huge) crush on Cedric Diggory ever again.
           (And, by that, he’d at least wait until morning.)
           Harry rubbed the back of his leg with his foot, scratching an itch, as he poured two glasses of champagne. Cedric could be heard from the living room, puttering around to set up the WWN and couch for their night in.
           There were plenty of parties going on across Britain to celebrate the anniversary of Voldemort’s death, but neither man had any desire to go to any one of them that year. And, Harry really didn’t want to have to put on formal robes and rub elbows with a bunch of people when he could laze about in his underwear and one of Cedric’s old quidditch jerseys. In his opinion, there was no better way to give a big ‘fuck you’ to Voldemort than to not even wear pants on the man’s death day.
           He lifted both glasses up by the flute before making his way into the living room. Cedric was leaning back in the loveseat. The radio was set at a decent volume so they could speak if they wanted to but could easily be heard if they didn’t.
           Harry handed a glass to Cedric before sitting down and cuddling into the other’s side. They brought their classes together, a soft clink sounding out through the room.
           “Here’s to another year without He-Who-Has-Too-Many-Names,” Harry took a sip after the toast.
           “Thank Merlin for that,” Cedric agreed.
           “No, thank Dumbledore.”
           “That’s Headmaster Dumbledore, Supreme Mugwump and Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot, to you.”
           Harry snorted into his drink, letting his head fall onto Cedric’s shoulder, “Are you drunk already?”
           “I’ve only taken two sips Harry.”
           “It’s okay; you can say you’re a lightweight.”
           Cedric set his glass on the coffee table before curling up his legs and pressing his feet, more importantly his freezing cold toes, against Harry’s bare thigh. Harry yelped, some of his champagne spilling onto his shirt as his arm jerked out in response.
           “You ass,” Harry quickly set his own glass down, making a face at the wet patch.
           “Revenge.”
           “Whoever said you were kind was clearly misinformed.”
           “Were they now?” Cedric shifted again, wedging his hand down between the back of the overstuffed seat and Harry’s back to rub his fingers against the other’s hip. He laid his cheek in the juncture between Harry’s shoulder and neck, pressing kisses against the dark skin.
           “Mmm, yes. Perhaps you could change my mind?”
           Cedric’s hand tightened and his kisses stopped. He let out a puff of breath before starting again, his other hand inching towards the edge of Harry’s shirt.
           “Easily.”
           Harry hated dancing. He had never danced before in his life but he already knew he was going to hate it with a burning passion. He would have to dance. In fact, he had to lead the dancing off as he was a champion. Yay.
           The Yule Ball was in a few weeks time. He had to find a date before then, dance with them (and not die in the process), dine with them, and most likely have to do other high-class function things.
           Maybe he could enchant his shoes to dance. Professor Flitwick might know something for it. Harry could ask. It was ask or murder his partner’s toes because he couldn’t dance to save his life (and he had done quite a bit to save his life, thank you very much).
           He moved to do just that but he was stopped by a throat clearing from above him. He looked up from the ground to see mister heartthrob himself in the flesh. He had his house scarf tucked loosely around his neck in a way that was entirely too attractive and Harry was jealous.
           “Hi Harry, I can call you Harry, right?” he asked, not sounding as awkward as he did during their last conversation.
           “Sure, I don’t mind. What do you need?”
           Cedric shifted. He looked over Harry’s head before looking into his eyes, expression hopeful.
           “Will you go to the Yule Ball with me?”
           Harry stared at the other and stared some more. He was flabbergasted. Of all of the things to happen, he had never expected this. Not in a million years.
           “What?”
           Cedric shifted again, reaching out to take one of Harry’s hands into his own.
           “Will you go to the ball with me?”
           (Holy fuck.)
           “Me?”
           “Well, yes. You.”
           (Wow.)
           “You’re asking me to go to the Yule Ball with you? This is really happening?” Harry questioned, already knowing he essentially sounded like an idiot.
           “I hope it’s really happening. I had to practice in the mirror all morning.”
           Oh. That’s cute.
           “Sure, as long as you’re okay with the serial murder of your toes.”
           Cedric laughed at that. He was still holding Harry’s hand. Cedric’s hands were warm, the fingers longer than his own.
           “I think I can manage.”
           (Wow.)
           It was today. The wedding was today. The wedding. Their wedding.
           Harry paced, expression nervous. He was going to be married in less than an hour. He was going to have a husband, an honest to god perfect loving husband, and they were going to be happy together for the rest of their lives. It made butterflies appear in his stomach, fluttering wildly with the need to escape.
           He smoothed his robes over, for the millionth time, checked the clock, for the billionth time, and kept pacing.
           Harry jumped when the door opened. He turned to look who it was, only to let out a sigh of relief.
           “Oh Harry,” Sirius spoke with a maelstrom of emotions. “You look incredible.”
           “You don’t look so bad yourself,” Harry mumbled, hoping he didn’t sound as nervous as he looked and felt and was.
           Sirius smiled in a way Harry had seen a few times over the years. It spoke of love, of support, of how proud Sirius was at the man Harry had become. Was becoming.
           “Your dad should have done this, but I suppose I’m the second best for the job,” Sirius held out an arm for Harry to take. He did. They walked out into the hallway, arm in arm, towards the main doors of the ceremony hall.
           “D’you think he’d be happy for me? That he’d be okay with me marrying Cedric?”
           “James would have been the happiest man on the planet no matter who you married, well, no; if you married Snape he might have something to say,” Sirius joked, squeezing Harry’s hand when the younger laughed.
           “How could you even put that thought into my head on my wedding day?”
           “It was a bit cruel, wasn’t it? But, in all seriousness, no pun intended, your father would have been ecstatic for you, and so would Lily. I bet they’re both watching us from where ever they are with smiles on their faces and love in their hearts.”
           Harry ran a hand over his face, wiping away the quickly falling tears. They paused before the door into the main chamber so Harry could gather himself together. Sirius gave Harry’s hand one more squeeze in reassurance as the doors finally opened.
           “Thank you.”
           Sirius walked him down the aisle, something he and Cedric decided to incorporate into their ceremony as James and Lily apparently did when they got married after leaving Hogwarts. The Weasley’s were easy to spot, as were Remus and Cedric’s parents. Hermione was looking at Harry with a bright smile, Victor nodding in their direction. A few people from Cedric’s extended family were there too, as were Dumbledore and Hagrid.
           Sirius handed him over to Cedric, who had walked into the room led by his father before Harry. In that moment, standing in front of his friends and family, Cedric within his reach, he knew this was going to be the most treasured day of his life.
           He was going to spend the rest of it with Cedric. He’d wake up next to him every day and go to sleep with him every night. They would support each other, be there for each other, and love each other, forever.
           And, as he kissed the newly named Cedric Potter-Diggory, he felt as though forever still wasn’t enough.
           Okay, so he’d have to find something in the lake in the middle of winter in under an hour and hopefully not drown to death. Thrilling. Just what he wanted to do instead of watching paint dry.
           He floated in the prefect’s bath trying to ignore the mermaid in the stained glass. He was a taken man, thank you very much, and he didn’t know how the wizarding world viewed human-painting relationships.
           He didn’t want to find out either.
           Cedric was great. Dating Cedric was great. He was kind, truthfully kind, and had a good sense of humor. He liked to cuddle (score!), his personality rarely clashed with Harry’s, they hadn’t had a single fight (other than the fact Cedric was not allowed to put his cold feet within a foot of Harry’s body above the knees), and he was a great kisser.
           Harry had basically hit gold and if they turned out to be school sweethearts like his parents (and Cedric’s parents apparently) well, that made everything easier.
           He could see them having a future with one another. They’d move in together after Harry was finished with Hogwarts. They’d eventually get a house, get married, adopt a kid or two. Maybe another owl to keep Hedwig company (as Cedric used his family’s owl to write letters back home). It would be nice. Calm. Peaceful.
           It would be perfect.
           Harry smiled at the thought, at the dream of the future, letting his worries melt away into the bathwater.
           Harry ran out of the bathroom midway through brushing his teeth when he heard a mug shatter in the kitchen. Cedric stood frozen in the middle of the room, his cup of tea broken all along the floor at his feet, as he stared wide eyed at the Daily Prophet. He didn’t react when Harry came running in. He didn’t move when Harry placed a hand on his shoulder.
           “Cedric..?”
           Cedric finally blinked, turning to look at Harry with a jerk of his head.
           “Cedric, you’re scaring me; are you oka-”
           But Harry didn’t get to finish his question. Cedric swept him up into his arms and swung him around like Harry weighed nothing. He pressed kiss after kiss to Harry’s face before attaching their lips together. Harry was bewildered but placed his hands over Cedric’s shoulders and kissed back.
           Cedric pulled back with a gasp, which Harry quickly echoed, his cheeks bright with color.
           “Not that I didn’t like that, but is there something going on?”
           “Yes- oh, where’s the paper- ah!” Cedric stumbled over his words while speaking rapidly, it was very unlike him, but he bent over to pick up the paper that had fallen onto the floor when he had latched onto Harry.
           Cedric flipped to the front page and shoved it into Harry’s face, eyes ablaze with, with something. Harry squinted, trying to read without his glasses only for his breath to stop, for his heart to stutter, for the world to freeze.
           The front page headline took over the entire front, the article on the next page. No article was really needed though, not with the relief and disbelief Harry felt. It had to be true though, it had to be. He looked back up to Cedric, letting out a hysteric laugh as he dragged the other into another kiss, the morning paper once again fluttering to the floor forgotten.
           It was over. Everything was finally going to be okay.
           SPECIAL EDITION: LORD VOLDEMORT DEFEATED IN DUEL, DEAD AS OF ELEVEN YESTERDAY EVENING
           “Skeeter went on to say that because of my dead parents, I am looking for an older partner for a more mature relationship in order to gain back what I have lost, as I have not had a father figure in my life and that can affect me negatively. She also accused you of using me for my family name and, paraphrasing here, you are clearly taking advantage of me with your blindingly good looks while you date Cho Chang behind my back.”
           “I dated Cho for a while, but we didn’t work out. She’s still a friend, and a great seeker, but I’m not dating her anymore.”
           “I know, and so does most of Ravenclaw thankfully, or you’d probably be getting twenty howlers a day from Cho’s supporters in this torrid affair,” Harry finished by tossing the paper onto the table in front of the overstuffed chair he was being engulfed in.
           The Hufflepuff common room was cozy, very homey, and perfect for relaxing on a Sunday. The third task would happen at the end of the year, which while only a few months away, seemed like plenty of time to the competitors who were still exhausted from the previous task.
           The lake had been freezing. Mermaids were not nice. Harry had to rescue both Ron and Fleur’s sister, which honestly, why would you put a little kid at the bottom of a freezing lake, and he hoped to never have to do something like that again. He had been terrified that they would drown if he didn’t get to the surface in time.
           He leaned further into Cedric, enjoying the warmth he was giving off.
           “You know what, you’re the perfect pillow. I think I’ll keep you,” Harry mumbled, closing his eyes in bliss.
           “Glad I could be of service.”
           “Shh, pillows don’t talk,” Harry reached up to put a finger up against Cedric’s lips, only to be jostled as Cedric laughed, pressing a kiss to Harry’s forehead.
           “I’m special though.”
           And Harry would have agreed, if he didn’t fall asleep surrounded by the sounds and smells of Cedric.
           Hogwarts was alive with the summer air. Harry looked over the grounds with a fond smile, hands fiddling with the top edge of his robes. He couldn’t believe he was graduating, that he had gone to Hogwarts for seven years and it was finally over.
           Hermione and Ron had been walking with him earlier. They had gone on one last walk around the castle together, joking about everything that had happened over the years with fond smiles on their faces. Everyone’s families would be arriving soon, so they had gone off to greet them.
           Harry knew Sirius and Remus were coming to see his graduation, they had promised more than once over the past few years and he knew Sirius wouldn’t break that promise. He had even told Harry that Harry could stay with him and Remus until he got his own place.
           Harry only sighed as he ran his hand over one of the stone walls as he walked, making his way slowly back towards Gryffindor tower so he could finish packing before the ceremony started. He paused, once again getting lost in memories.
           Hogwarts would always be his first home, and it was now time to leave. It was hard to believe, even after he had taken his NEWTs and received heartfelt goodbyes from Hagrid and Professor McGonagall, among others.
           He didn’t hear anyone sneak up behind him, so he jumped when hands came from behind him to cover his eyes.
           “Guess who?” a voice whispered in his ear.
           “The Bloody Baron.”
           “Oh, ha ha Harry, you’re hilarious.”
           Harry smiled, reaching up the grab the hands.
           “You said guess, not guess correctly.”
           “You’ve been spending too much time with Hermione,” Cedric told him, coming around to Harry’s front with a smile.
           “Guilty as charged.”
           Cedric only shook his head before pulling Harry in for a kiss. They kissed once, twice, three times before Cedric pulled back to rest their foreheads together.
           “Remember when you had to practically stand on your tip toes to kiss me?”
           “Because you refused to bend over and meet me halfway? I sure do,” Harry stepped back to knock their shoulders together.
           “You’re being very forward today,” Cedric teased.
           “Get your mind out of the gutter Diggory.”
           They fell into silence immediately after, but within moments Cedric was laughing and so was Harry. Their laughter filled the hallway and bounced off the ceiling in an echo.
           “Any reason you came to find me before the ceremony other than to snog me senseless?” Harry asked when they finally quieted down.
           “Well, you visited me before I graduated, and I wanted to ask you something,” Cedric confessed.”
           “No, Sirius wasn’t being serious about kidnapping me away to Majorca for the rest of my life.”
           “Listen, if you were going to Majorca, he’d take me with you. He likes me too much to leave me behind.”
           Harry was going to continue their banter, but he didn’t say anything as Cedric held out a key. It wasn’t anything fancy, and it wasn’t too old, but it had his name engraved at the top. He took it from Cedric, allowing his fingers to run over the metal.
           “What is this?” Harry asked, looking back up at Cedric with a questioning gaze.
           “It’s a key to my flat, for when you want to stop by and stuff. There’s enough room to store some clothes and such, and you can stay over whenever you want. The oven is a little funky, but I am working on fixing it this summer-”
           “Is this your way of asking me to move in with you?”
           Cedric’s mouth clicked shut, his babble cut off as his cheeks pinked. He went to rub the back of his neck only to stop when Harry laughed.
           “Because, if it is, the answer is yes, you dummy.”
           “They killed the quidditch pitch,” Harry moaned in despair.
           They had been shown the hedges before, but seeing them fully grown was something else. The pitch, the beautiful pitch, was no more. He’d mourn its loss until it was returned to its rightful glory. Oliver would have them practicing right away; there was no doubt about that.
           “It kind of hurts,” Cedric responded, gazing into the maze with concealed worry.
           Fleur and Victor stood next to them as well, looking out into the maze with mixed expressions. This was it. The end. The tournament was finally over.
           “Good luck Harry.”
           Harry turned to look at Cedric, smiling before moving to give him a kiss.
           “For good luck Cedric.”
           It was the end.
           Harry walked into the Hogwarts library, getting a strict look from Madam Pince, as he tried to find Cedric. His OWL exams had finally ended, which meant that the NEWT exams began in a few days. Cedric had been studying like crazy alongside Harry, both not having much time for anything else.
           He found his boyfriend stuffed into a nook towards the back, transfiguration text books open all over the place as he filled out flashcards. If Harry remembered correctly, it was the second to last subject Cedric needed to study, the other being defense. But Cedric had wanted pointers from Harry in that subject, even if Harry was two years behind, so they had decided on Cedric studying that last after Harry finished his OWLs.
           Harry sat down and waited for Cedric to finish, choosing instead to rest his eyes after having his last practical, which was in charms and thus not so bad.
           Time passed. The shadows in the library shifted. Cedric shut his books with a deep sigh of relief. He slumped back into the chair he was in going completely boneless.
           “That bad, huh?”
           “I thought the OWLs were bad. These are worse, so much worse,” he mumbled out, eyes haunted.
           Harry moved to take Cedric’s hand, squeezing it to offer some comfort. Cedric squeezed back, shoulders slumping forward.
           “I’m done for today. So done.”
           Harry nodded, rubbing his thumb over the back of Cedric’s palm. Cedric began to pack everything away in his bag and Harry let go of his hand to help him.
           “Want to raid the kitchens to pig out on treacle tart and butterscotch pie before falling asleep in one of those overstuffed chairs in your common room?” Harry asked once Cedric’s bag was closed.
           Cedric looked him, blinked, and then nodded.
           “I love you so much.”
           Harry smiled, willing himself not to blush.
           “I love you too.”
           “Shh!”
           “Together?”
           “Together. On three.”
           Cedric took Harry’s hand, his free one reaching out for the cup.
           “One.”
           Harry squeezed Cedric’s palm. Their fingers laced together.
           “Two.”
           Cedric squeezed back.
           “Three.”
           This was it.
           Harry and Cedric stood shoulder to shoulder, hand in hand, in the center of the creature infested maze. Harry’s leg was worse for wear and Cedric didn’t look any better with dirt smeared over his face and front.
           The goblet glowed a few feet in front of them resting on a plain pedestal. They were going to grab it, together. Hogwarts would win by both of its champions grabbing the cup. He and Cedric would win together.
           They would grab the cup and it would all finally be over. They’d get to play quidditch the following year without the stupid tournament in the way.
           Together.
           The second their fingers grasped the handles, he felt the sensation of being tugged by a portkey. A portkey, it would take them back to the beginning of the maze. Thank every wizard known to mankind they wouldn’t have to lug it back themselves.
           They would face the crowd, cheering students and adults alike, the cup held high as a win for Hogwarts.
           Together.
           Together.
           They weren’t brought back to the beginning of the maze. The portkey took them away, far away, to a grave yard drenched in darkness.
           Harry’s dream, dreams, the idea of forever with Cedric, was just that. An idea.
           Forever wasn’t long enough.
           Not as Harry bled. Watched Voldemort come back to life. Escaped. Cried. Screamed. Mourned.
           Cedric’s eyes were blank, no longer warm. His body was cold, just like his toes. He wasn’t smiling. He would never laugh. He would never kiss Harry again.
           They wouldn’t have a life together.
           Their forever had been too short.
           ‘Kill the spare!’  
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seriouslyblacklikemysoul · 7 years ago
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“Brisé, pourtant vivant”- Part I - S.B.
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A/N: Hello people! This is my first attempt writing fan fiction. So, naturally, Sirius Black it is.(x OC) I would love to receive any kind of feedback! Feel free to drop by and let me know if you liked it. Also, you can send me your requests.  [Warnings: Firstly, my English…since it’s not my native language. And then we have triggering thoughts(maybe?) and swearing. (Age gap?) Let me know if there is anything else] {I don’t own the gif/ Credits to the original owner. Also… to her highness J.K Rowling.}
PART II 
I looked up at the night sky. Times were getting dark again.I was around 8 years old the last time I heard that name. Before today, that is. It has been fourteen years since then. Voldemort is back. And so is the Order. I wasn’t aware of Tonks talking to me. I wasn’t paying any attention. My mind was wondering in everything awful I had witnessed. Two bodies. Two innocent Muggles. Murdered by Deatheaters. My “parents”. Poor excuse of a family.     “Trueblood, are you even listening?”, Moody’s voice said rushing me out of my mind. Of course I wasn’t. How could I be? Without waiting for an answer, he turned to the others and explained every detail of his master plan to get Harry to Grimmauld Place.     “Trueblood wait for us there”. After all this time, you would think that I had developed immunity to all the horror my family was spreading. But no. I couldn’t seem to be able to handle it. And that’s why I wasn’t even thinking about rebelling against his words. I was not okay. I just nodded, gaining a few worried glances. They were preparing for departure. I turned around, ready to apparate. “Rose are you alright?”. I turned on my heel and saw a very concerned Remus. “Yeah”, I simply answered, forcing a small smile. But it was too painful, that it fell almost immediately. Which didn’t go unnoticed. “It’s not your-”. I did not give him a chance to finish his sentence. “fault? Yeah”, heard it all before. But it was my fault. So fucking much. I shrugged it off and apparated inside the Grimmauld Place.     I was greeted by the most awful sounds. Walburga’s portrait was screaming once again. “Shut up” I spat out, in such a flat tone that I barely recognized as my own. Much to my surprise, she did. And she never shuts up. Ever. “That’s a first”. I didn’t have to turn around to realize who it was. I felt silly. Like I- “Hey” was all I could master. I knew that it’s kind of rude to have your back turned on people… Merlin, why was it so difficult? Reluctantly, I faced him. That was a mistake.     His gray eyes were piercing through mine. But not in the way I wanted. “What happened?” he asked in a hushed voice so Walburga would remain quiet as he gestured away from the portrait and towards the kitchen. I nodded and followed suit.     Another unpleasant voice. Kreacher. “Filthy little blood-traitor. As good as a mud-blood. My poor mistress…” he murmured to me. I just sighed. That was something I could take. However, Sirius… not so much. “Out” he ordered him. After a hateful glance, Kreacher left… probably to go and adore Walburga. “I’m sorry about him” he said sincerely. “It’s okay. I mean, in order to get offended by him, I would actually have to value his opinion. Which I don’t” I simply stated while I sat down.     For a brief moment, I felt his gaze upon me. It sent shivers down my spine. But the moment passed. “So… who killed those Muggles?” he asked casually, while he poured himself a fire whiskey. I needed something much stronger if I was to survive this. “My beloved parents”. My tone might have been casual but I felt like someone was ripping my heart out, forcing my lungs to shut down and stop working.   Let me explain. I am a Trueblood. Once, I belonged to the most ancient house of pureblooded wizards and witches. “Toujours sang royal” was the moto I had to keep living up to for so long. The Trueblood line is a bloodline of queens and kings. Royalty. Crème de la crème. All of them were always sorted into Slytherin. Always. They also had a tendency to be extremely good at mastering the Dark Arts… meaning that when Voldemort rose, they were by his side. Every time he was on the rise… every time he was in the fall. Unlike a Malfoy, a Trueblood will stand their ground. So damn proud, egotistical and evil. They enjoy torturing innocent people… they enjoy killing without second thoughts. They enjoy being… exactly who they are.     And then, there was me. I wasn’t sorted into Slytherin but Ravenclaw, while my best friend was a Weasley. First strike. I never gave a flying fuck about blood statuses. Second strike. I refused to become a Deatheater. Third-and final-strike. I ran away when I was sixteen. I got disowned. I never wanted to see them again. Yet, here I was, trying to ignore the familiar pain. Even though they had used the cruciatus curse on me many times, I still struggled to recollect myself every time I knew they used it on someone else. Blood purity and bullshit. Why couldn’t they see that we all bleed the same red, sticky substance? What else was there to it? I was so lost in my thoughts…which, of course, led me to stare into space. Eventually, I gained conscience, blinked a few times and looked at Sirius, only to find his eyes already fixed on me. I shrugged and tried to look anywhere but near him. “You do know that this is none of your fault, right?” he asked-stated, his eyes spreading fire inside my mind. I finally found the courage to look at him. It was my fault. It was every bit my fault.   “But it is. I had a chance to… to eliminate them… and I didn’t” I said in what came out as almost a whisper. His eyes widened instantly. And I looked away once again. It was true. I had a chance to kill them, a year ago… but I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t bring myself to actually do it. “Rose”. The way my name sounds falling off of his lips… demanding me to look at him. But I- how could I? “Rose”. I wanted to scream at him to stop. Stop torturing me. Because I was an idiot. Out of the blue, a firm hand grasped my chin, forcing my head up. I was electrified by his touch. “I am weak” I blurted out, keeping my eyes closed. His hold on my face tightened. “You are not weak. What was asked of you was simply wrong. You are not weak Roza”. My eyes shot open at the sound of my nickname. Well, it was only him, who called me that, anyway. I got lost in his eyes. For a split of a second, I almost forgot. And then everything came back in waves. Wave after wave… crushing me. How could anyone see me like that? Moreover, how could he? I had to constantly remind myself that he only saw me as a friend… at best. How could I be so stupid? How could he actually return any of my feelings? He was thirteen years older than me…and he was Sirius Black for fuck’s sake. I didn’t even stand a chance. I never did and never will. And that was going to be okay at some point. I guessed.   I removed myself from his grasp and stood up, trying too hard not to touch him, even by accident. I must have looked stern, to say the least. But it was better for him to think that than anything else. La douleur exquise… It felt just like drowning but you won’t fucking die.   “Les rois et les reines sont condamnés à perdre la tête. Tellement pour sang royal” I said, sarcasm dripping from every word, as I made my way out of that kitchen, which all of the sudden seemed too small. I could feel how confused he was but he didn’t do anything to stop me from leaving. And deep down, I wanted him to stop me. Who was I kidding? So much for royal blood, Rose.
Brisé, pourtant vivant = Broken, yet alive Toujours sang royal = Always royal blood Les rois et les reines sont condamnés à perdre la tête. Tellement pour sang royal = Kings and queens are condemned to lose their heads. So much for royal blood 
Part III
Part IV
Part V (smut)
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