#head auror moody

[angelfic]

Howdy! Could I request a Theodore Nott, secret relationship, “don’t leave me… please”. ❤️

here u go!! i actually really like this idea and kind of wanna recycle it for a longer fic maybe.. 🤔 thank u for the request! 💌

theodore nott x reader + secret relationship + “don’t leave me… please”

➺ part of my 2k milestone writing game

You’re stressfully stirring sugar into your tea in the kitchen of 12 Grimmauld Place when Mattheo and Theodore turn up, bruised and bloody in the hands of Alastor Moody.

The Auror had sent a message in advance through his Patronus, alerting members of the Order that he was heading to headquarters with two death eater defectors. An hour of hoping it’s who you think, and three cups of tea later, you breathe a sigh of relief when you realise Mattheo and Theo are alive.

The way Theo is leaning his weight on Mattheo doesn’t slip past you, and as soon as he finds you among the others, you rush forward.

“Hi,” Theo whispers, the greeting reserved only for you despite the numerous others in the dining room. His eyes are drooping slightly as he sways on his feet. Nonetheless, he gives you a weak smile. “I’m okay. I promise.”

You nod slowly, brows furrowed in concern despite his reassurance. Ignoring Moody’s confused stares, along with the whispering happening behind you, you do a quick scan of Mattheo and find that he’s definitely had worse injuries from spontaneous fist fights during your years at Hogwarts.

“Are you okay?” you mouth at him, just in case. He winks at you in answer.

Moody, seemingly snapping out of his confusion, turns to you and raises a brow. “You know these two, then?” he asks gruffly, a hint of suspicion creeping into his voice.

“We all went to school together,” Dean Thomas pipes up, saving you from having to stumble over your words in an attempt to explain your relationship with Theo.

There’s no doubt in your mind that everyone in the room suspects you and Theo are more than just schoolmates, but you don’t move to address anything. The implications of you being in love with an ex-death eater aside, it’s none of their business. Moody doesn’t quite seem to accept this immediately.

”School,” he mutters, nodding begrudgingly. “And how well do you-”

“Alastor,” McGonagall cuts him off sharply. Peering at him over her spectacles, she purses her lips. “You can get to interrogating them about being Transfiguration partners after they’ve recovered. These boys need a healer. Now.”

“Yes, yes,” Moody replies grumpily, reluctantly letting them go to open the door to the hall. “We’ve got Poppy in the living room. She’ll fix them up, nice and quick.”

You step back to give the two boys space to make their way to the Healer, but Theo catches your hand and grips it tightly. “No. No, Y/N can do it. Just give her some of the medicine, I’m not seeing anyone else.”

You open your mouth to object, wanting Madame Pomfrey to assess him properly, but the pleading in his eyes has you hesitating.

“Don’t leave me…” Theo’s voice becomes lower, quieter and earnest. “Please.”

“Okay,” you exhale, cupping his face with your hand and stroking your thumb over his cheekbone. You look over at Professor McGonagall for confirmation and when she sighs and nods, you respond with a grateful smile before turning back to Theo. “I won’t leave you.”

Mattheo clears his throat, popping the little bubble you and Theo have found yourself in and making you look away, cheeks warm. Walking over to where Moody holds the door open, Mattheo gives you both a knowing look before speaking to the rest of the room. “I guess I‘ll be seeing dear, old Poppy alone then. Nothing she hasn’t fixed before.”

Taking this as your cue to leave, you wrap an arm around Theo’s waist to support him as you make your way out of the room and up the stairs to an empty room. You help him to sit on the bed and disentangle your hand from his, dropping a kiss to the inside of his palm. “I need to go get the stuff from Madame Promfrey, I won’t be a minute-”

“Not yet,” Theo pleads, hooking pinky finger around your own and tugging lightly. “I’m not that injured, just… come here for a second.”

Your resolve crumbles immediately due to not having seen Theo since school ended a month ago, during which he was trying to leave the other side of the war without getting himself killed. You sit next to him on the bed, but he immediately reaches over to manoeuvre you by the waist until your legs are wrapped around him in a straddling position. Theo presses a soft kiss to your lips and the pure love radiating from him makes your heart jump to your throat. When he pulls away, he looks more relaxed and content than he has in months.

“Hi,” he says, a gentle smile playing about his lips while he fingers the hem of your shirt where it sits at your back. Tingles run down your spine where his cold fingers brush against your skin and you end up leaning into his chest even more, causing his smile to deepen. “I missed you, darling.”

“What, Crabbe and Goyle weren’t good company?” you tease, tilting your head. Theo scoffs in disgust, lightly tugging on a lock of your hair and looking at you expectantly. “I missed you too, Theo. So, so much. I’m glad you got out.”

“Me too,” he sighs, dropping his head to rest on your shoulder. You both stay in silence for a few minutes and you bask in the warmth of Theo’s breaths fanning over your collarbone. He nestles his face into your neck and seems perfectly happy just to stay there when he speaks. “It was torture staying away, you know. I’m never leaving your side again.”

You run your fingers through Theo’s hair, lightly scratching at his scalp and biting back a smile when he lets out a sound halfway between a sigh and a groan. “You being glued to me is probably going to make it clear that we’re more than ex-Transfiguration partners, by the way.”

“I bet you anything they all already know,” Theo murmurs distractedly. You frown and sit up straighter to look at him, raising a curious brow in questioning. He looks at you like it’s obvious. “Mattheo is downstairs, unsupervised. If he hasn’t told everyone by now…”

You shake your head, shifting to move off Theo’s lap. A pout forms on his lips, but he reluctantly lets you stand. “I better go do some damage control while I go get the stuff from Pomfrey. Merlin knows what embarrassing things Mattheo is telling them right now.”

“I can think of a few things,” Theo says, his innocent voice contrasting with the devious smirk on his face. “Like the time we were in the Astronomy Tower and you were too loud, so-”

“Right, okay!” you interrupt loudly, screwing your eyes shut in embarrassment as you try your best not to relive that particular memory. Taking a deep breath and ignoring the way Theo is cracking up, you smile sweetly at him. “You haven’t had any injuries to the head, have you?”

“No, love,” he replies, grinning. “Why?”

You grab a pillow and swing it into Theo’s face, knocking him backwards on the bed. Crossing your arms in satisfaction, you falter when he stays laying down and moans in pain.

“What’s wrong? Did I hurt you?” you rush out, panicked as you move the pillow out of the way to climb onto the bed and hover over him. Theo cracks his eyes open slightly, his face scrunched up in discomfort and your stomach drops. “Theo, where does it hurt?”

“Here, come closer,” Theo winces, gesturing you forward, closer and closer and you furrow your brows in confusion. When you’re close enough, he snakes his hand around to the nape of your neck and pulls you into a deep kiss, burying his fingers in your hair. You don’t bother admonishing him, your head getting dizzy from the feel of his lips moving against your own. You only pull away when you hear sudden laughter coming from downstairs. Theo doesn’t look ashamed in the slightest when you do. “All better.”

“Not yet, you’re not,” you say, rolling your eyes and sitting up again. You make sure you put all of your weight on the mattress to do so, just in case you actually do end up hurting him. “I’m actually going downstairs now, okay? The idea of Mattheo talking to McGonagall is driving me crazier by the minute.”

“Come back quickly?” he asks lightly, but there’s a hint of pleading in the way his hand circles your wrist. You give him a reassuring smile and another quick peck on the lips.

“Always.”

[iamnmbr3]

So it seems like in the period before his fall in 1981 Voldemort had begun a period of rapid escalation in the intensity/violence of his activities.

In book 5 Moody shows Harry a picture of the original Order. Most of the people in that picture ended up dead. Since Lily and James are in the picture (and are both Order members and not in hiding or still in school) we know the picture was taken no later than 1980 and no earlier than 1978. Thus, all the people in the picture who ended up dead (Benjy Fenwick, Caradoc Dearborn, Dorcas Meadows, Gideon and Fabian Prewett, Edgar Bones and his family, Marlene McKinnon etc.) died in a relatively short period of time. (In fact we know from Lily's letter in book 7 that the McKinnons died only shortly before Lily & James were killed).

Furthermore, we know from Sirius that when Regulus joined the Death Eaters, Walburga and Orion were both very happy because at the time they supported Voldemort. However, Sirius says they later got cold feet when they saw "what Voldemort was prepared to do to get power." Clearly they didn't renounce their blood supremacist ideology. But probably plunging the whole of the wizarding world into a bloody civil war in which even purebloods who didn't offer total loyalty and compliance. were at risk, wasn't something they approved of. Regulus died in 1979, having presumably come to a similar conclusion to his parents and consequently turned against Voldemort. Since Regulus would have joined up in 1977 or 1978 this suggests that when he joined, Voldemort hadn't yet begun his escalation but by 1979 it was in full swing.

Going back even further, based on Dumbledore's memory of Tom returning to apply once more for the DADA job, it seems that at that time Tom was already using the title "Lord Voldemort." However clearly at that point he wasn't a wanted man as in the memory he doesn't seem to be hiding his identity at all and clearly has no concern that Dumbledore is going to summon the Aurors and shout, "seize him!" So even if Voldemort was already a rallying point for blood supremacists that early on, he certainly wasn't yet involved (openly anyway) in any type of illegal activity.

So it seems that Voldemort started off slowly, perhaps even as the head of an extremist but still legally legitimate political faction, maybe with his Death Eaters secretly engaging in some illegal activities and then around 1978 or 1979 he initiated a rapid and violent escalation aimed at totally crushing all his opposition and seizing total control by force. (And he may well have been very near to succeeding in that goal when he lost his powers in 1981).

(I will also add that from a shipping perspective there's something else really interesting about this timeline. Alphard died around 1977. Now I'm not saying that Alphard was the last restraining factor that held Tom even somewhat in check or that when he died the last piece of Tom's humanity went with him or that Tom went mad with grief and fully succumbed to his darkest impulses or that he no longer saw any reason to hold back. But also I'm not, not saying that. Alphalord is totally canon.)

[northlt03]

Barty Crouch Jr who had never seen death before Evan's. Who's only connection to mortality had been the neighbor's cat he pet and fed sometimes, who went limp in his arms. Admittedly, his father hadn't explained death very well.

"She's gone" His father said.

"To a better place" His mother corrected, casting him a pleading glance. Barty was only six. "She'll always be with you"

Barty Crouch Jr who grew up utterly and entirely in love with his best friend. Barty Crouch Jr who would have followed Evan Rosier to the ends of the earth and back. But death was one place he couldn't follow him.

Barty Crouch Jr who saw the love of his life die, killed by a curse sent by a mad auror.

Barty Crouch Jr who saw Evan's body hit the floor. Barty who saw his mouth agape, lips pulled back in the beginnings of his signature grin. Barty who saw his blond hair hide his beautiful eyes from across the room.

Barty who died with Evan right then and there.

Barty who stopped fighting entirely, forgetting to throw curses and spells. Only staring at the spot across the room, watching Alastor Moody move away as if Evan's death was a triumph, nothing more than a temporary obstacle.

Twenty years of life gone in the blink of an eye. All promises of a future of them together. All the dreams they had which had been squandered after Regulus died, now further reduced to ashes.

Barty who fully expected Evan to just brush it off and get up like he'd seen him do after a bad fall in quidditch. Barty who got tackled to the ground, dragged by wizard after wizard. They lost, the aurors were saying. Their side lost.

Barty couldn't find it in himself to care.

He never could. Caring was difficult, it required an emotional connection to someone or something. The only people Barty had ever cared about were dead or as good as dead.

"Hey, Rosie!" A chuckle, spitting blood, grinning looking straight in the auror's eye as one of them punched him. A sharp pain, past memories, play fights, their dorm room in Hogwarts. "D'you think we'll get our own cell in Azkaban?"

Barty who was being dragged away, vision blurry, head spinning, confused. "Hey, Rosie!"

"Rosie?"

"Evan?"

Barty Crouch Jr who spent years in Azkaban and didn't care if it hurt his mother in his process to escape.

Barty Crouch Jr who still couldn't believe after years that Evan was gone. Who still talked to him sometimes. The shadow in the corner of his cell. The darkness that took the shape of his lover.

"Fucking depressing mood here"

"D'you think I could get one of those dementor creeps to give me a tattoo?"

"I'd look sick with a rose on my skin, don't you think?"

Barty Crouch Jr who had planned for years. Who ambushed the man that killed the love of his life. Who kept Alastor alive only to hurt him.

Barty Crouch Jr who pretended to be the man that took everything from him. Barty who looked in the mirror for a year and only felt hatred. Who clawed at his polyjuiced skin, at the haunting eye that stared back. The same one that watched Evan fall. The same legs that stepped over his body like he was a pile of trash. The same hands holding the same wand that killed him. The same lips that uttered the killing curse.

Barty Crouch Jr man.

[chlobliviate]

Wolfstar Microfic - Dementor

Words: 982

@wolfstarmicrofic

🌙✨🌙✨🌙

Remus couldn’t sleep. Something was wrong. He rolled over, taking in the vast empty space on the other side of the bed. He’d known Sirius for ten years. He could be impulsive, arrogant and sometimes even just mean. What he also was, though, was loyal. To a fault, sometimes. Remus just couldn’t recognise the man that he loved in the accusations lodged against him.

Something was very wrong.

He got out of bed, wincing as his bare feet hit the cold floor. If Sirius had been working for Voldemort, there must be something in their flat to verify that. He started in the spare room, which had originally been Sirius’ room until they realised that he hadn’t slept in there for three months, at which point it became the spare room. It still had a lot of Sirius’ stuff in there, though. In boxes under the bed and the wardrobe. There was a lot to go through.

He started under the bed. He found twelve photo albums, which he couldn’t face looking through, and a box full of very racy-looking romance novels. Maybe this wasn’t a good idea, but what was the alternative? Just accept that the man who had kissed him on the forehead and told Remus that he was his whole world two days ago had conspired against them and been responsible for the death of three of their closest friends?

The next box Remus pulled out made him stop. In it was a small black chest with an inscription on the lid.

‘This chest, much like mine, will only open for you, Moons.’

Remus choked back a sob as he lifted the chest onto the bed. He ran his finger across the inscription and heard something click within. He was able to open it. He took a deep breath before looking inside. There were several photos of the two of them that Remus was quite glad that Sirius hadn’t put in a photo album and two envelopes.

He opened the first envelope. It was a contract. A contract that passed the role of secret-keeper from Sirius to Peter, and it was dated four months prior. Remus’ head was spinning. That was Pete’s signature, and he could tell from the paper that it had been magically signed too. He needed to take this to Dumbledore, or the Ministry. Someone who could tell if this was real or not. Then he noted the signature of the witness to the contract. Dumbledore. He knew. This made no sense.

He opened the second envelope, hoping for a miracle.

20th September 1981

Dear Moony,

I assume that if you’re reading this, then it’s likely something has happened to me, or maybe you’re just nosier than I thought you were.

I think Pete is the traitor. He became Prongs and Lily’s secret keeper back in June (see attached contract) because he convinced us all that I would be the obvious choice and Voldemort would never suspect him.

Since then I’ve noticed that anything that Pete knows quickly becomes used against the Order. Pete knew that Marlene and her sister would be with their parents last Friday. Only Pete, Dumbledore and I knew that. I certainly didn’t tell anyone, and it would surprise me if Dumbledore did. So that leaves Peter or a very lucky guess from the Death Eaters.

He’s also been in my ear about you. He’s been saying for months how suspicious it is that we aren’t told about your missions in meetings, and how many meetings you miss. I know you, as I hope you know me, and I know that you would never do this.

I have expressed my worries about this to Dumbledore, who knows that Pete is the secret keeper now. He told me that I was being paranoid and that J, L and H are perfectly safe. I hope that’s still the case when you read this.

If something has happened to me, look into Peter. I don’t think Dumbledore will care, so see if Moody will.

I hope I get to see you again.

I love you.

Padfoot

Remus didn’t hesitate before apparating to the Aurors offices.

Alastor Moody got on well with Remus and when he showed up looking distraught in the middle of his night shift, he leapt into action. He took the information from Remus, verified the magic signatures on the contract as belonging to Sirius, Peter and Dumbledore, and left the room. Remus sat in the offices for what felt like weeks, but the sun hadn’t even risen yet. Kingsley had sat with him for a while, telling him what Moody was working on, but Remus couldn’t take much of it in.

Moody appeared after several more long hours. “Remus. We’ve done magical trace tests on the finger we found at the scene. He did that to himself.”

“What are you saying, Alastor?” Remus asked, not wanting to hope too much.

“I’m saying that your man is being released from Azkaban as we speak. The dementors don’t like it, but it’s not their decision. This never should have happened. Shit. He should have had a trial, I’m so sorry. I don’t know how we missed this.”

Remus shook his head, “Dumbledore knew the whole time.”

Moody nodded, “I know. That’s something I urgently need to look into, but I needed to right the wrong first. He’s only been there for a day and a half, but the dementors…”

“I know. I’ll look after him.” Remus said as the fireplace glowed and two men stepped out. Sirius looked pale and his eyes were unfocused. Remus stumbled to his feet and pulled Sirius to him.

“Moons?” His voice was hoarse.

“I’ve got you. You’re alright.” Remus whispered into his hair. “You’re safe.”

“It wasn’t me.”

“I know, love. I found your letter.” Remus kissed the side of Sirius’ head. “I never believed it was you.”

[greyeyedmonster-18]

we meet again

(so @arliedraws created a slytherin!sirius universe in which james in an auror and sirius is a death eater (or is he??) and they have unfulfilled homoerotic urges for one another and i...came up with this idea, and it's been in my brain (and @impishtubist's SMS text messages for licherally months). It seemed that arlies most recent day of birth was an appropriate time to drop this. xoxo)

--

James's cheeks hurt from smiling so widely as two first-year aurors brought out a cake, lit with an abundance of candles that shot up into the air spelling out Happy Retirement Auror Potter! To complete the package, the cake was decorated as a tropical lagoon. Crystal blue waters, and yellow sprinkles on top to mimic a sunset. Sending James a final subliminal message to cash in his 30 years of unspent vacation time, aside from a few days here and there, and disappear into the tropics. Off the grid, off radar, off the cases. Officially.

Not that James was one who ever said I cannot wait to retire in passing--because he had loved every moment of his years in the aurors department. His first year in the training program, his first big raid, his promotion to Senior Auror, to Director of the Department and finally in his last year, the ultimate promotion of having the responsibility of training new aurors. He had put in the work, and he could leave the department and rest easy knowing everyone left behind would continue to do faithful and just work for the wizarding world. Including his son, Harry who, after years of telling James no I'm not coming into the department, I don't want to, I'm not following in your footsteps, shove off, Dad and trying a host of obscure occupations just to prove a point (most recently a shop clerk at Florean Flortescue) he finally confessed to James he had applied.

James tried to pretend he wasn't elated. Harry tried to pretend he wasn't equally as excited, both of them concealing smiles on Harry's first day in the department. Keeping it cool as the Potter Men were known to do.

"I can't believe you actually did it," Harry said, as cake was passed around, the retirement party in full swing. James was halfway through his slice, blue frosting magically enchanted to pool around the rim of his plate.

"Did you doubt it?"

"Yes," Harry stressed, alongside Moody and Sturgis Podmore, both chatting within earshot. Harry gave James a pointed look, as if to say see, it's not just me. "I thought you were going to delay it again just last week when you got all weepy about writing the report details for your last training class. 12 pages--"

"It's important to be thorough--"

"And that last one was damp, swear," Harry teased, and James shook his head cutting off another bite of cake.

"Oh, just you wait. You'll be crying at your desk too when the time comes," James told him, teeth tinted blue as he spoke, "and you'll look around and wonder where the time went and wish you could--"

Harry dropped his head to the side, closing his eyes and letting out a small snore, earning a loud laugh from Moody, before pretending to wake up, "Sorry? I must've fallen asleep while you were reminiscing."

"Reflecting," James corrected.

"Much more interested in our vacation--"

"Oh no, you're much too busy," James told him, letting out a low whistle, "I've seen that training curriculum and I don't think you'll have time for much of anything for the next few...years?" James shrugged, "Looks like I'll be seeing Santorini, and Turks and Caicos all by myself. Maybe I'll finally take your advice and," James paused to think for a moment, "What is it you've been telling me? Find--"

James sentence was cut off by the department doors opening, Kingsley Shacklebolt striding in, violet robes trailing behind him, jaw clenched and eyebrows close together. James couldn't help but laugh a little as Harry seemed to straighten up, putting his hands behind his back as the Minister of Magic made his way toward Moody and the other Senior Aurors in the room. James had known Kingsley for years--and by extension, Harry had known Kingsley for years, but everything seemed to shift when Kingsley went from Your Dads Friend with the Cool Tattoos and Earrings, to Minister of Magic and Effectively Your Boss. Harry cleared his throat and gave James a nod, before following the other younger aurors in looking extremely busy around the office. Suddenly papers were all too out of place, and there was much work to be done, when only moments before, they were playing a rousing game of napkin Quidditch.

"Sorry, Potter, this celebration may have to be cut short. Auror Bones just sent a patronus, and that burglary down at Diagon Alley might not be so simple after all," Shacklebolt said, dropping his voice lower, "The owner of the shop confessed to having some...untoward artifacts in the back, and you'll never guess what was taken."

"What kind of artifacts?" James asked.

"You're retired, Potter."

James looked at his watch, "I'm not retired for another two hours, now what kind of artifacts?"

"Reliquaries is how the owner described them. Heirlooms that have been passed down in his family for centuries...which means--"

"Layers of dark magic." Moody mumbled.

"That's not the important piece, I'm afraid," Kingsley continued, "The only reason the owner knew there had been a burglary was because the backdoor was left unlocked. I remember when I was a junior auror here...there was a series of home theft...shop theft...all of them with the back entry way left open and--"

"A note," James cut him off immediately, eyes wide as his heart pounded against his rib cage. He could feel a flush fall over his body, acid rising in his throat.

"Oh no," muttered Moody.

"What did the note say?" James asked again and Kingsley hesitated, sharing a glance with Moody.

"Potter, you're retiring, enjoy your--"

"What did the note say?" James asked again, this time loud enough to catch the attention of other members of the department.

"Finders keepers."

--

James's ears were ringing as he left the auror department, not even pausing after Kingsley had spoken the words on the note. Two single words, and suddenly James couldn't see straight. Couldn't think straight.

Finders keepers, finders keepers, finders keepers.

It didn't matter that James was set to retire in an hour and a half.

It didn't matter he had left a party in his honor. It also didn't matter that his lips were stained blue from cake, or that he had dinner plans with Harry after the party to celebrate, just the two of them. He threw open the door to his office, the walls now barren and the space void of any personal touches, and quickly went toward his filing cabinet.

This case, had been the only one James had be removed from. This case, had been the only one in thirty years that had just been marked closed with no real resolution. A series of home thefts over the course of three months, all seemingly connected, but they came up empty every time, eventually abandoning it. After three months, after James was removed from the case, not a single report.

Every time a burglary had been called in since, James read the file and poured over every detail, hoping for more information. For a reason to reopen the case. But none was ever found. James had the dates memorized. Pulling each report one by one, and opening them to the notes found at each scene.

Finders keepers.

He grabbed the files, shrinking them and shoving them into the pockets of his robes, wand in hand as he left his office once more, closing the door behind him. Moody, and Kingsley were already on their way down the hall, nearly chasing after James, urgency in their footsteps to stop him from doing something stupid.

"Potter!" Moody barked

"Evening, Alastor. I believe I have a party to be getting back to," James said simply, though sweat was dripping down his back, beading on the center of his forehead. He ran a hand through his greying hair, in a way he hoped was nonchalant and not in a way that looked dangerously suspicious.

"Potter, do I need to remind you, you were removed from this case and--"

"I'm retired, w-why in Merlins name would--don't be--no, I-I'm not, and there's no, it's a party! I'm having a great time, have a good night!" James gave them both a wave before resuming his brisk walk-run down the hallway, shoes squeaking on the tile floor, eager to get out of the department

He knew where to go.

He knew he shouldn't be going there.

But.

He had to.

There was a fireplace on the first floor of the Ministry of Magic for floo access. James approached the fireplace, thinking, briefly, that perhaps it was foolish to think that after all this time he might still have access--clearance-- to this location. He grasped a handful of floo powder anyway, closing his eyes as he stepped into the fireplace.

"NUMBER TWELVE GRIMMAULD PLACE!"

--

The sitting room looked exactly as James remembered it.

Sort of.

The curtains had been changed. They were a deep yellow now instead of grey like they were the last time James was here. The carpet had been removed, and James stepped out of the fireplace onto cool hardwood floors.

The pristine black leather couch, and the gaudy chandelier were the same though. So were the end tables, and the armchair in the corner with a hand-embroidered throw pillow. James had laughed at it then, because a crook shouldn't have had something so dainty and delicate so proudly on display in their home. So distracted by the decor, the once familiar smells and sounds of Number 12, he didn't notice the man in the doorway.

"I have to admit, Potter, this is quite the surprise."

James jumped, hand immediately grasping the wand on the inside of his robes, attention turning toward the man in the doorway. Dress shirt rolled up to his elbows, not quite tucked into his trousers; dark hair cut shorter than the last time James saw him. 20 years ago. He was wearing house slippers, which shouldn't have been odd, considering they were indoors and among other names James could've called him, Sirius Black was far from a barbarian, and knew better than to wear shoes around the house. But the slippers were fur lined. And James had to stop the corners of his mouth from grinning--just as they had at the pillow.

All at once, James was in his thirties again. Not his fifties.

And he was staring at Sirius Black. Tall, dark, irritating, criminal , Sirius Black. Thoughts racing, with absolutely nothing to say. Tongue swollen in his mouth.

"I could have you arrested," Sirius remarked casually, tilting his head to the side. "I believe this is what people in your line of work call trespassing, isn't it?"

"Your floo let me in," James responded, sounding much younger, and much more petulant than he intended. It was always that way around Sirius. James had thought that years as an auror would put him in a better position to deal with Sirius Black and his quick tongue. That this time he would be ready, and James would be able to respond with ease and not stare and stammer as he did in the past.

He was wrong.

"Ah, so this is just poor manners? Or did I forget the moment I invited you to my home? Did we have dinner plans?"

"Well, no but--"

"No to poor manners? Or no I didn't forget?"

James rolled his eyes up to the ceiling, "We didn't have plans, Black. I'm not here for a chat--"

"But we have so much to catch up on. It's been ages-- how's your son?"

"Cut the shit, Black. I know you were behind the burglary down in Diagon Alley."

Sirius gasped, pressing his hand to his chest, looking surprised and affronted by James's accusation, "Me? But I've been at home all day. Baking. Would you like a slice of rhubarb, Potter?" Sirius gestured with his head, turning around to walk back through the doorway and down the hall of Grimmauld Place.

James followed.

"Well, don't stand there, you can have a seat. Make yourself at home," Sirius gestured to the kitchen table. Fresh flowers in the center. James took a seat, watching as Sirius waved his wand to begin slicing a pie on the counter, all the while smirking at James with his arms folded across his chest. "Do you still take your tea with cream?"

"No!" James objected, "I mean, I do but don't offer me tea, I'm here--"

"Yes, yes, very official auror business, I remember. Just because you have poor manners and show up unannounced to people's homes--"

"I don't!"

"--doesn't mean that I do, and you're a guest in my home, so I am going to offer you tea. Do you still take it with cream?"

"Yes...thank you," James said, watching as Sirius poured two cups of tea, sending them over to the table, along with the pie before joining James.

Black still had that same damn smile. Not a grey hair in sight, though had more creases under his eyes.

"Thank you," James repeated, looking down at the pie in front of him, something clicking in his brain. "Why...why do you have this pie?"

Sirius smiled slowly. "Why not?"

"Why do you have a rhubarb pie, Black?"

"Well, since you asked. A little birdie told me you were retiring from the auror department and...I just thought I'd...prepare for the occasion. It's your favorite, isn't it?"

[bimoonphases]

@wolfstarmicrofic July 23 - prompt 23: Rescue [word count 798]

Sirius had learned to recognise every single sound around him. He could hear the legions of rats plaguing Azkaban scurrying in the walls. They hadn’t come into his cell after the first night he had spent there, when the first rat to poke its head in the newcomer’s cell had ended up crushed in Padfoot’s jaw, paying for another rat. He could hear every sound traveling down the corridor. He could tell how many Dementors were by his cell by the swish of their coats alone. Sometimes a hysterical laughter echoed from who knew exactly where up to his cell. The first time he had heard it, Sirius had had to lean on the wall and had immediately transformed into Padfoot again, curling up in the corner opposite the door. Now when he heard it it barely fazed him.

“Hello there, Bella. Still alive then,” he would murmur before resuming what he was doing which was usually trying to stare out of the small grated window above his cot.

Other sounds traveled to his cell, mainly screams or begging, and other times a voice talking. Sirius had taken quite some time to recognise the voice, despite having heard it often in the corridors at Hogwarts years before. Crouch Jr. The only person left for him to blame for Regulus’s death since Orion and Walburga had apparently died from the utter shock of having no heirs left after October 31st. And now he was stuck in a place where the other’s voice would drift through the door, sometimes arguing loudly, sometimes possibly reciting whole pages of books Sirius remembered having studied himself, sometimes laughing almost as hysterically as Bellatrix, sometimes repeating the same word over and over like the night before when Sirius hadn’t been able to sleep because the whole prison seemed to be filled with one word.

“Rose, rose, rose, rose, rose, rose, rose.”

Come dawn, Sirius hadn’t been able to know if he wanted to ask Crouch when he had become so interested in botanic or just strangle him.

So it was natural for him to hear an unusual sound as soon as it echoed somewhere. Footsteps. The Dementors only glided, and no one was ever allowed to visit Azkaban. It was a double sound, as if two people were walking in the corridors, their steps different. Sirius was about to move to the door to better listen when the footsteps stopped somewhere. A couple of seconds later, his door blew up in a flash of bright green light and smoke. Sirius coughed and tried to better look at the shape coming through the smoke. He blinked, feeling his heart skip a beat, then he was crushed by two arms.

“I’m so sorry I’m late, my love,” Remus’s voice whispered in his ear.

“Moony,” Sirius looked up at his boyfriend’s face. “I thought… I mean, they must have told you…”

“They packed you up without even a trial and sent Harry away somewhere just as fast. It was all too easy, I knew something was missing even if I don’t know what.”

“I swapped with Peter. He was Secret Keeper instead of me.”

As he watched the colour drain from Remus’s face, Sirius realised he had never been able to say that sentence out loud. Remus swallowed.

“Alright,” he managed to say. “We’ll deal with this as soon as we’re back on land.”

“How did you get in here?”

“I had help,” Remus motioned to the door.

The green smoke had almost cleared by now, and on the threshold stood a pretty blonde woman, her hands calmly crossed on her very pregnant belly.

“Pandora Lovegood,” she smiled at him. “You might remember me as Pandora Rosier back in school.”

Sirius just nodded. The Rosier twins, other people who had constantly been around Regulus. He remembered the Order meeting when Alastor Moody had proudly announced Evan Rosier had been killed in a run-in with the Aurors.

“She’s got a knack for explosives,” Remus said as if it was the most natural thing in the world, running around Azkaban with the sister of a Death Eater. “The smoke stuns the Dementors as well.”

“But not forever,” Pandora said. “Come on, I have another cell door to blow up before we can go, and I don’t want to be too long, my husband worries easily.”

“Which door?” Sirius asked as he followed Remus in the corridor, strewn with motionless Dementors.

“Barty Crouch Jr,” Remus said. “I had to agree to it to rescue you.”

“Crouch?” Sirius repeated. “But he’s been condemned to life here!”

“As were you,” Pandora smiled. “Besides, there’s something him and me have to tell you about your brother.”

“Regulus?” Sirius breathed.

“Come on,” Pandora started down the corridor. “We have an awful lot to do.”

[lulublack90]

Prompt 7 - Star

@jegulus-microfic February 7 Word count 743

ok this wasn't meant to be another multi-prompt story but here we are 🤣

CW- someone is tortured but it's not described but you know it's going on.

First part

Sirius had blindfolded him once they’d cleared the building. He could feel Sirius’s face still close to his. 

“We’re going to apparate in a second. Are you going to behave, or do I have to stun you?” Sirius growled into his ear. Regulus tried to twist his head away from his brother.

“Stunning it is.” Sirius sighed before Regulus felt a spell hit him, and then…

***

“Did you have to do that, Sirius?” James huffed as he rearranged Regulus’s limp body on his shoulders. 

“If he messed around, he would have splinched himself, and you might have as well. This was easier.” Sirius shrugged at James as he explained. “Come on, Mad-Eye will want to question him.” Sirius held his hand out to James, and they disapparated to their designated safe house. 

***

Regulus’s body felt stiff like he’d fallen asleep sitting up. Slowly, he cracked his eyes open. He was in a dark room, possibly a cellar. He wasn’t sure. If magic was being used, he could be anywhere. 

He tried to move and found he was strapped tightly to a wooden chair. 

“Ah, so you’re finally awake?” A gruff, gravely voice said from the shadows. Alastor Moody moved so he was just visible in the low light. 

Regulus supposed it was meant to be an intimidation tactic, but it wasn’t strong enough to work on him. The Auror clearly hadn’t asked Sirius for input, as he’d know that after dealing with Walburga Black, nothing these silly little men could do would get to him. 

“Hmmm, braver than you look, hey, Black? Let’s see how brave the lionhearted star really is.” He raised his wand, pointing it directly at Regulus’s chest, and all Regulus could think was this man was an idiot. The Regulus star wasn’t lionhearted. It was the heart of the lion, and as it was, his heart belonged to only one lion, a Gryffindor lion. 

He used thoughts of James to get him through the waves of torture Moody was about to perform.

***

Above them, in the kitchen, James and Sirius paced. Frank Longbottom had his wand on them, and they had been warned that if they tried to get into the cellar, he’d stun the pair without hesitating. So they paced. 

James flinched at every scream, and Sirius ranted and raved about how torture wouldn’t work on him because Walburga had made it her life’s mission to torture her sons until they could endure anything. 

“Just talk to him like I said to. He’s a twat, but he’ll talk more if you don’t piss him off with spells first.” He bellowed at the door.

James couldn’t speak at all. Every cry emitted from Regulus broke a piece of him. If he’d have thought even for a second that the Order would do this to him, he’d have taken him and run. 

Eventually, it went silent, and familiar clunking footsteps pounded up the stairs. The door to the cellar opened, and Mad-Eye walked out, looking tired and not at all satisfied. James and Sirius went to step around him, but he shot his arm out, blocking them. 

“Oh, no, you don’t,” He growled at them. “No one is to go near the prisoner.” 

“What the fuck Mad-Eye?!” Sirius cried as he tried in vain to get around him. 

“He’s not talking yet. But don’t you worry, he will.”

“No, he won’t! I’ve already told you, Moody, you won’t break him like that. All you’ve done is piss him off. He’ll never say a word to you now. Let us try. I know we can get through to him. He’ll talk to James and I. Please let us try.” By the end of his tirade, Sirius was pleading with the older wizard. James was glad Sirius had taken over. He was in no fit state to fight Mad-Eye. 

“Go on, Mad-Eye, it won’t hurt to let them have a crack at him.” Frank offered as he tried to defuse the situation and get the head Auror to see reason.

The grizzled wizard grunted something incoherent but nodded before he stomped out of the kitchen. They all understood he meant that James and Sirius could go down to Regulus.  

James stared at the cellar door. He felt sick at the thought that whatever had happened to Regulus was his fault if he hadn’t picked him up. None of this would have happened. 

He put his hand on the doorknob and turned it.    

Next part

[whorediaries-09]

can i use you up?

pairing- sirius black x auror!reader warning(s) - angst. a/n- a different take on my style of writing.

little train series masterlist.

sirius wanted nothing more but to punch the wall beside him. his feet were atrociously restless and he felt something within him that he'd never felt before. he was sure his knuckles would turn white with the grip he had on the newspaper.

in a span of a few years, he'd escaped the treacherous hold of his nightmares, been accepted into a place he could happily-safely call home. he'd escaped the prison- the hell hole that bound him down, depriving him of the ever sweet freedom. he had found people he could keep close and call home.

little did he know his home was really only just the town where he'd be arrested.

he didn't know he'd be barricaded to his ghosts, tied together with his pasts and prison. he didn't know he'd been bound by shrieking dementors that'd reminded him of his memories he'd so carefully concealed within the corners of his mind.

and with each passing day, when his trial is put off, he feels his hope blur and the fire of rebellion seeded within the crevices of his heart die.

he feels his last bit of sanity fade.

*-

sirius doesn't get any visitors. he never expected any the moment he'd been thrown away into the cell. so when the dementors rattle down on the cell, he grumbles, turning and tossing onto the stone floor.

'sirius!' moody's loud voice bellows. sirius recognizes it, he's learnt to memorize it and hate it so very well.

'what is it alastor!' he screams back. he fills the rage fill him up again. he likes it when he's left alone - when he's not treated like an animal in a zoo. he feels revolting, it scars him into the very depth of his skin.

'the ministry has decided to look into your case once again.' alastor says. his fake eye moves erratically. sirius has learnt to not let the joy affect him. the dementors don't scare him, no. the memories do. so with lifeless eyes, a true contradiction to the gaze of sirius black, he stares at him.

'i thought the ministry was far too fed with injustice? did their big fat brains come back to senses again? or is today april fool's alastor?' he spits.

'black, mind it. i might change my mind.' he piercingly glares at him. he chooses to stay silent and not give him a reaction upon his statement.

'who's taking on my case?' he asks, silently. he's quietened down. he doesn't want the emotions to overrule his logics.

'i am.' a new voice replies. sirius stares for the source of the voice, suddenly interested.

you appear from the shrouded darkness. staring ahead into his piercing gaze, you stand determined on the floor. as formality you offer him your name. he shakes his head, gazing at your form up and down. you shiver under his cold gaze.

'what interests you in my case, young lady?' he asks. to establish your seriousness, you stare right through his cold gaze.

'the injustice.' you whisper. he stares at you before his face breaks into a mocking smile which turns into a harsh, cruel laughter. his head heats up with rage he's never felt before.

'injustice?' he spits. 'i've to believe suddenly all you have gotten your senses back and you should hold a trial for someone who was arrested without proper evidence?' he waits for you to say something. he notices a shift in your body language as you relax your shoulders and shift your eyes on the ground before staring into his again.

'i don't care if you believe me or not. what i can promise you is that i'll give you your freedom.' you say, so serenely. for a moment, he feels a pang of jealousy at your calm state. but it quickly dissipates when the rage controls him over again.

'is that so? what lovely words! why should i believe that you don't think i'm the killer? what confirmation do i get, young lady?'

'that's a fair point you've got there mr. black. but i believe you because...well there's no way you could've been the cold blooded killer. i can only promise you and give you the surety of my words. if you insist, i can make the unbreakable vow with you.'

'you can't do that,' grunted moody, 'it'll trigger the dementors.'

'fine. if he wants, i can make the vow on the day of the trial.' alastor grunts.

'no.'

'yes,' you emphasize. 'do you want me to make the vow? will you believe me then?' sirius stares at you. he tries to decipher through the curtain of your blank stare.

'yes.' he says, his voice quiet and seemingly calm. within him, however, he breaks. he hears the hurricane with his name on it, coming nearer and nearer. the blood rushes to his ears, and he buries the heat within himself.

so, he does his best to lay to rest all of the feelings that have been in his heart. but in his mind, they sink into a swamp.

*************************************************************

original idea posted by - @lilwnet

taglist - @reggieisfit @siriuslycaptainofthedawntreader @jamespottergf @eternallybipanicking @fictional-magic @iamgayforyourmom1510

(if you want to be tagged please send a request through my inbox.)

*************************************************************

[anxiousthoughts365]

Nightmare

'No, please don't, I'm sorry!'

'S'rius?' Remus slurred, his head fuzzy with sleep as he lifted it from the pillow and squinted across to the one beside him. Black curls were splayed over it in a haphazard waterfall, and in the midst of the mess he could just make out Sirius' pale face. Remus hurriedly rose onto his elbow when he realised that his boyfriend's lovely features were twisted with pain and fear.

'Not him,' Sirius murmured, his voice cracking in a way that made Remus' chest ache. He was clearly asleep, but whatever he was living through in his subconscious was evidently distressing him, and Remus had already taken hold of the other boy's narrow shoulder before Sirius added in a whisper, 'Just please, not h-him.'

'Cariad,' Remus hummed, swallowing against the lump in his throat as he fought to keep his voice soft, soothing. Through many nights of trial and error, he'd found that Sirius was always easier to calm if he was woken gently. 'Come on, Sirius, wake up. It's just a dream, Love. Just a bad dream.'

It took a couple more shakes, but then Sirius gasped, his silver eyes snapping open wide. Remus made sure that the smile he pushed onto his face was believable, but all at once Sirius was scrambling up onto his knees, his hands flailing as he reached for Remus.

'You're alright,' Sirius blurted, and he promptly burst into tears as he took Remus' face between his slender hands, holding the taller boy still as Sirius' gaze traversed his body rapidly. Then Sirius was moving again, crowding in to scatter wet kisses all over Remus' cheeks, his jaw, his forehead, before finally brushing their lips together as he murmured, 'Oh, thank you Merlin, thank you Godric, thank you whoever the fuck is listening -'

'Pads,' Remus breathed, taken aback by his boyfriend's almost violent display of affection. 'What -'

'They had you,' Sirius hissed, his face turning sour as he recalled his dream. 'They had you, Moony. The Ministry.'

Remus tried not to show how his stomach flipped at the words. He should have known that this was coming. Sirius had been on edge ever since the Ministry had visited Hogwarts to talk to Remus on his 17th birthday last week. He'd tried to re-assure his boyfriend that everything was going to be fine, that he'd signed the Werewolf Registry with Dumbledore present for a reason.

The Headmaster had made it so that Remus would be free to spend Full Moons wherever he chose, as long as any security measures that were installed were assessed by the Ministry's Auror Department. And once the Ministry officials had left, Dumbledore had informed Remus that it would be his good friend Alistair Moody who would be assigned to his case, and that the man would be ... Guided by Dumbledore, where necessary.

But even this hadn't been enough to satisfy Sirius. He'd been snarling and snapping all week, had been practically circling Remus whenever anyone got too close, had sharply shut down any conversation that James or Peter tried to start about Full Moons, the Ministry, even Dumbledore in some instances.

And now Remus knew why.

'Sirius,' he murmured, lifting his hand to cup the boy's pallid cheek. 'I'm not going anywhere, Love. You're not going to lose me.'

Sirius crumpled, his lower lip trembling as fresh tears welled in his eyes. It was too much for Remus to bear, so he gathered Sirius to him, wrapping his long, scarred arms around the boy he loved so deeply. He held Sirius as sobs wracked his frame, and he rocked them gently while Sirius gulped and slowly came down. Remus was relieved when Sirius finally sat up, leaning back to meet his gaze. Even with his eyes red-rimmed and puffy, even with his face streaked with tears, Sirius was breathtaking.

'I won't let them take you, Moony,' Sirius asserted, his firm tone allowing no room for argument or jest. 'They can't have you. Because you're mine.'

'I'm yours,' Remus breathed, pressing a kiss to Sirius' lips. 'You and me, Pads. Forever.'

'Forever,' Sirius sighed, the smile evident in his voice as he leaned in to deepen the kiss, apparently appeased for the time being.

[v-a-l]

What's your top 10 Harry Potter favorite characters and favorite book?

ten is too many I think XD. I like Sirius, I suppose that's a given, Harry, Ron and Hermione. I adore Moody and McGonagall, Luna, Neville, James even though we don't really get much of him in canon. I'm attached to the universe, I grew up with it, and whilst I imprinted largely on Sirius, I do have significant fondness for most of the characters.

Favourite book, hmmm. Probably Goblet of Fire. I think PoA is lovely for how much we learn about Harry and where he comes from, and OOTP is great for learning about the first war, and Deathly Hallows is great for the resistance movement that exists beyond Harry and the one man war he's been fighting since book one, but I've always had a fondness for Goblet of Fire and the way the stakes are raised and the characters we are introduced to, I loved learning about Crouch and side characters like Bertha Jorkins who though briefly mentioned, add so much colour to the narrative. I love the conversation in the cave,

“How d’you know?” Hermione shot back. “How d’you know where he Disapparated to?” “Come off it,” said Ron incredulously. “Are you saying you reckon Ludo Bagman conjured the Dark Mark?” “It’s more likely he did it than Winky,” said Hermione stubbornly. “Told you,” said Ron, looking meaningfully at Sirius, “told you she’s obsessed with house —” But Sirius held up a hand to silence Ron. “When the Dark Mark had been conjured, and the elf had been discovered holding Harry’s wand, what did Crouch do?” “Went to look in the bushes,” said Harry, “but there wasn’t anyone else there.” “Of course,” Sirius muttered, pacing up and down, “of course, he’d want to pin it on anyone but his own elf … and then he sacked her?” “Yes,” said Hermione in a heated voice, “he sacked her, just because she hadn’t stayed in her tent and let herself get trampled —” “Hermione, will you give it a rest with the elf!” said Ron. Sirius shook his head and said, “She’s got the measure of Crouch better than you have, Ron. If you want to know what a man’s like, take a good look at how he treats his inferiors, not his equals.”

Chef's kiss.

“He was tipped for the next Minister of Magic,” said Sirius. “He’s a great wizard, Barty Crouch, powerfully magical — and power-hungry. Oh never a Voldemort supporter,” he said, reading the look on Harry’s face. “No, Barty Crouch was always very outspoken against the Dark Side. But then a lot of people who were against the Dark Side … well, you wouldn’t understand … you’re too young. …” “That’s what my dad said at the World Cup,” said Ron, with a trace of irritation in his voice. “Try us, why don’t you?” A grin flashed across Sirius’s thin face. “All right, I’ll try you. …” He walked once up the cave, back again, and then said, “Imagine that Voldemort’s powerful now. You don’t know who his supporters are, you don’t know who’s working for him and who isn’t; you know he can control people so that they do terrible things without being able to stop themselves. You’re scared for yourself, and your family, and your friends. Every week, news comes of more deaths, more disappearances, more torturing … the Ministry of Magic’s in disarray, they don’t know what to do, they’re trying to keep everything hidden from the Muggles, but meanwhile, Muggles are dying too. Terror everywhere … panic … confusion … that’s how it used to be. “Well, times like that bring out the best in some people and the worst in others. Crouch’s principles might’ve been good in the beginning — I wouldn’t know. He rose quickly through the Ministry, and he started ordering very harsh measures against Voldemort’s supporters. The Aurors were given new powers — powers to kill rather than capture, for instance. And I wasn’t the only one who was handed straight to the dementors without trial. Crouch fought violence with violence, and authorized the use of the Unforgivable Curses against suspects. I would say he became as ruthless and cruel as many on the Dark Side. He had his supporters, mind you — plenty of people thought he was going about things the right way, and there were a lot of witches and wizards clamoring for him to take over as Minister of Magic.

We learn so much about Sirius in this one conversation. How strong his morals were, how he definitely did not believe in a binary world where you're either evil and deserve extreme punitive measures or you're good. Here is a Sirius Black who vocally disagrees with the use of Unforgivables against Death Eaters. He is passionately against aurors being empowered to inflict unquestioned brutality during the war. This probably added to why he seemed all the more suspicious to the ministry, Sirius is not one to be silent about his disagreements. And note that the law allowed the use of Unforgivables against suspects. Can you imagine what they'd have done to Voldemort's supposed right hand? Regardless, Sirius here clearly believes in not just achieving victory in war but achieving a victory that is rightful and just and through just means. He doesn't just want to win the war he wants to achieve the objective for which they are fighting this war in the first place. Something he'd be uniquely equipped with as he comes from a lifetime of observing everything that is wrong with Wixen society and actively disagrees with it. He's not a bystander sympathising with the plight of the lesser fortunate, he's a frontline warrior who deeply believes in the cause he's fighting for, enough to give his life for it, his compassion is proactive, which is exactly what makes him a hero. Sadly all these facets of Sirius' character have largely been left behind by fandom and I miss him deeply.

I'd pay good money to read more of Sirius the way he's written here, GoF is Sirius at his best, rats, caves, detective work and all. If this is Sirius a few months out of Azkaban, I can't imagine how he'd have been at Hogwarts or during the first war. Alas. We'll never know.

[strawberrybasilsorbet]

Jilytober Day 31

Managed to write one more @jilytoberfest microfic to end the month! Happy Halloween, everybody :) October 31st Prompt: Unintentional couples costumes

It wasn't until just before they'd planned to leave — when she was running the curling iron through her fringe —  that Lily noticed.

She had thrifted the dress a week ago, before she'd taken the plunge on the new haircut. With its itty-bitty skirt and bright purple fabric, the silhouette was a bit dated, but it had been among the cutest looks that she could wrangle for the price — and with the Order sending them out undercover every other day, price was no small concern for Lily when she shopped for Muggle clothes nowadays.

It had only been four months since she, her boyfriend, and half a dozen of their Hogwarts classmates had graduated from school and joined Albus Dumbledore's secret coalition opposing the Death Eaters. Although it had seemed a daredevil decision at first, the Order of the Phoenix had so far set its youngest recruits only to low-stakes missions and a rigorous run of trainings with some of its members from the Auror Department. None of them had yet found themselves in any real fights.

Instead, the intimidating Mad-Eye Moody — whom most of her peers found vaguely terrifying, but whose dry sarcasm had endeared him to Lily — had set his new recruits as spies and lookouts, spending afternoons blending into the crowds at Muggle locations suspected of being vulnerable targets for attack. As the summer blazed into autumn, Lily and her friends paired off in twos or threes to sit in cafés, stroll the zoo, or (in the case of the Muggle-born members) drive back and forth along major bridges, ready to send a message by Patronus in case something went wrong.

It a strangely peaceful way to enter a war. Lily wondered if it could last.

She turned from the mirror, grinning at the silliness of her realization. Sirius was lounging on the sofa in a biker jacket and Led Zepplin T-shirt, but James — who had never been quite as comfortable in Muggle clothes — had played it safe with his disguise, opting for a plain pair of blue jeans and a white, collared shirt. "James," she said, trying not to laugh. "I just realized — we're dressed like Fred and Daphne!"

"Hmm?" James asked, looking down at his own clothes.

"From Scooby-Doo!" James looked back blankly. "The cartoon? I don't suppose you would have seen it, but it was pretty popular show when we were kids."

Lily had loved watching Scooby-Doo, Where Are You! on the BBC when she was nine or ten. She remembered squeezing on the couch between Tuney, prim face scrunched up in grudging tolerance, and Sev, who would often stop over for breakfast on weekend mornings when his own parents' finances were stretched thin. In those days, piling onto the couch and watching cartoons together had been one of the only activities that could sustain a truce between Lily's prissy sister and her shabby best friend.

"A cartoon — that's from the telly-vision?"

Sirius looked up, curious as always. "I don't know if I've heard of it."

"I'll have to find us a re-run," Lily said. Nostalgia warmed her voice. With a swish of her wand, she set about enhancing their accidental costume — adding a touch of blue to James's collar; conjuring herself a pair of heels, a headband, and a green scarf. Sirius snorted when she transfigured a stubbed-out cigarette into a bright orange ascot and pursed her lips, trying to tie it properly around James's neck.

James raised his eyebrows. "Why do I feel ridiculous?"

"Because Mystery Inc. are ridiculous, James!" Lily said, teasing. "This really is too perfect. We won't be the only people dressed up this weekend — it's practically Halloween."

"Ah! Costumes, right?" asked Sirius, unable — as usual — to resist an opportunity to show off his Muggle Studies bona fides.

"I have always wanted to try that," James said.

Lily quirked her head and considered him, fingering her wand thoughtfully. "Do we have time to make you blond?"

Sirius burst into laughter. "Oh, definitely," he said, raising his own. "Let's make it really authentic."

James's shield charm was accompanied by a handful of enthusiastic epithets. Lily giggled and turned back to the mirror, fluffing up her fringe to cinch the look. "Don't worry, love," she said, "I think people will get the gist." Lily tossed on a coat of pink lip gloss. "What we really need," she said, turning back to James, "is a few more Order members. Do you think we could call another girl to join our route?"

James shook his head. "I think everyone is out on assignments today." This wasn't a surprise — Halloween was a major Wizarding holiday, and Moody thought it was a prime time when Voldemort might strike — but Lily still felt a little disappointed. "Why?" James asked. "Do we need more people for the costume?"

Lily shrugged. "We don't really need more people, but...Fred and Daphne are side characters. It would help if we could add Shaggy and Velma — they're the rest of the mystery gang — or if we could add a van, or a dog. Something like that."

James and Sirius exchanged a look.

"A dog?" asked James.

"Mm-hmm," Lily affirmed, pulling on her shoes. "That's what happens on the show — the gang solve mysteries with their dog. Animals are a big thing in Muggle cartoons." She glanced up. James and Sirius were still looking at one another. "What?" Lily asked.

Breaking his staring contest with James, Sirius turned to Lily and smirked.

"Hey, Evans," he said, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees. He raised an eyebrow. "Can you keep a secret?"

[tascha-schwarz]

Too Good to Be True

“Mad-Eye” Moody was lying in bed, his body fully relaxed, same as his mind. His only eye leisurely wandered the walls of the room, dimly lit by the light of a new day breaking through the curtains, while his thoughts drifted further. He wondered if all this could turn out to be just a dream? After all, can a person feel so happy outside of a dream? And if this wasn’t a dream, how on Earth then did he deserve to draw such a lucky ticket?

He ran his hand over the creased sheets on the other side of the bed and smiled, listening to the quiet splashing of water coming from the bathroom.

He no longer felt lonely. Since the moment he met her, she had never let him feel lonely again. She accepted him with all his scars and rough edges, with all his oddities and weird traits, and - as she insisted - with numerous virtues. Although Moody thought she was exaggerating, he chose not to dissuade her. The tenderness her eyes emitted as she listed his strong points, trying to prove there were plenty of reasons to love him, disarmed him. If she wanted to consider him a hero, so be it.

The door creaked open, and a neat silhouette of a woman appeared in the semi-darkness. She seemed even more slender in his large shirt that she borrowed. The old Auror’s heart raced. Still a little rumpled after sleep, with crumpled curls carelessly sticking out of the mane of her hair, she didn’t need to look flawless for him to consider her a goddess.

She gave him a gentle smile, so familiar, intended only for him, and he returned it gratefully. They needed no words to tell how much they loved each other - their looks, gestures and touches spoke for them.

With a soft fluttering of affection spreading in his chest, Moody watched her approach the window. She drew the curtains open to let some light in, and, leaning on the windowsill, as she usually did, took a moment to look out on the street.

When she turned around, her face lit up with a wide smile.

“How’s the weather?” he stretched out his hand, inviting her back into his embrace. “Seems fine.”

“It’s perfect!”

With a playful smirk she stepped over his wooden leg - only Merlin knows how it ended up in that corner after the previous night - and returned to bed. She crawled under the blanket, and sank into the hold of a man. He stroked her shoulder, that was left uncovered, and pulled the blanket up, squeezing her tighter. She snuggled closer to him and rested her head on his chest, listening to his heartbeat and absorbing the warmth of his body. She had never known a safer place than the grasp of his strong arms.

“I feel so good with you, Alastor,” she whispered.

It would never stop astounding him, how it had happened, but he knew she meant it.

“Me too, sweetheart,” he whispered back, planting a kiss on her forehead.

She looked up at him. Without that magical eye his features seemed so much softer. She reached out to caress his face, streaked with cobwebs of wrinkles and scars, but still attractive to her eyes, and he caught his breath at the tenderness of her touch. She was proud to have the privilege of seeing him in a plain and honest way - caring, delicate, sensitive. The warmth of his glance wrenched something inside of her - every time - and she felt the urge to assure him how much he was needed, how much he was loved - over and over again. She smiled fondly and leaned closer. Her lips covered his with sincerity and devotion, and he responded eagerly, just as tender, savoring her taste, her warmth, her love.

The longer it lasted, the more they needed. The sparks of passion twirling in intermingled flows of their hot breathing kept flaring with growing intensity.

Suddenly, a gust of wind hit the window with a loud clatter. They both flinched.

“So, the weather’s perfect?” Moody rasped suspiciously, displeased it made them break apart.

“It is,” she grinned, mischief dancing in her eyes. “Perfect for staying in bed the whole day!” She rolled over onto her back, drawing him along.

He laughed, doing justice to her successful attempt to outwit him.

“And what do we do then?” quite aware of her answer, he asked suggestively, looming over her.

Her arms wrapped around his nape, she pulled him closer, forcing him to press her to bed with the weight of his body. “Proceed with what we started last night?”

“I thought we left no unfinished business,” he whispered teasingly into her ear, slowly covering her neck with soft kisses, and she let out a sigh of enjoyment.

Fingers tangled into his hair, she held him close, guiding him up to face her. “You sure?”

“Well, I guess, there might be a few more different ways to do this,” he mumbled into her mouth before their lips merged together.

His grip tightened, and she gasped in desperate anticipation.

If this was a dream, “Mad-Eye” Moody wished he would never wake up.

[dufferpuffer]

Order member ages

Just wanted to post this as its own thing for future reference. People often say Dumbledore recruits directly from Hogwarts, but it never seemed to line up with how old most of the members were...? So - I looked up who all the known members are! :)

First War:

Order was founded 1970 at the earliest - dissolved 1981. Earliest birthday possible: 1953, graduating 1970

S. Black, class of 78. R. Lupin, class of 78. P. Pettigrew, class of 78. J.+ L. Potter, class of 78. S. Snape, class of 78 E. Bones - Murdered w. wife + kids. Brother of the Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, Amelia Bones. M. Fletcher - already well integrated in Wizarding crime world. A.+ F. Longbottom - They would have been OLDER than the Potters as they were 'Prominent Aurors' and Auror training takes years to complete. A. Moody - Legendary Auror. Retired after this war. S. Podmore - Born 1956/1957, apparently…? G.+ F. Prewitt - Molly Weasley's brothers. E. Doge - Albus' schoolmate. Ab. Dumbledore - His brother. A. Figg - old Squib. R. Hagrid - He was 51 when Harry was born Unknown age estimate: C. Dearborn - Missing. D. Diggle. B. Fenwick - 'bits of him' were discovered. D. Meadowes - Personally killed by Voldemort, might mean he is a skilled adult. M. McKinnon - Killed 'with her whole family' E. Vance - 'stately looking with a green shawl' in the the 90s.

Note with the Longbottoms: They were 'Prominent Aurors' - which means they worked for the Ministry for some time. If they were born 1953, and thus graduated 1970 - they would only be 27 when Neville was born... giving them a little time to have built their careers while still being a younger couple. But was the Order formed right at the crack of the war...?

Second War:

F. Delacour - 95/96 at Gringotts, joined the order through Bill. H. Jones - Unknown age. Never mentioned to be at Hogwarts while Harry is there. N. Tonks - Adult, well into Auror training. C + B Weasley - Adult, well into their own careers. A + M Weasley - Born 1949/1950. M. McGonagall - I mean I suppose she was recruited from Hogwarts hey haha K. Shacklebolt - An Auror; my man became Minister of Magic F + G Weasley - 'Graduated' 95/96 - opened store H. Granger; R. Weasley - First mission seems to be when 17 H. Potter - Did some things with Albus at 16...? Unclear.

If I am missing anyone please add B^)

- Harry was doomed to face Voldemort anyway. Does he really count as an Order member...? He's more the reason the order exists. - Ron and Hermione are there in support of Harry - and only do things for the Order after Albus' death, when they are 17 and don't have much choice, they are hunted. Is it really 'joining the Order' when the order barely exists anymore...? - Fred and George... did they do any Order things before Albus' death...? Were they just running their shop, with their Mum breathing down their backs to not get involved? Unclear.

Notes to do with the second Order: Molly is against the children participating. Sirius, Lupin, probably some others but I can't remember are in support of it.

Albus Dumbledore was also against the children participating - especially in 95/96, where his whole deal was trying to keep them at school, safe - even though they weren't learning jack shit. It takes Harry having a meltdown, Sirius dying - and Dumbledore being cursed - for him to go "Fuck it... Harry, you should help. I gotta teach you before I die."

Observations about both Orders:

They both have a large group that come from one source. In the First War it was the Marauders, in the second the Weasleys.

They also share an 'Auror talent' that seem more affiliated with Moody than they do Albus: Tonks and the Longbottoms.

It makes sense that when one person joins others are likely to follow. The Weasley parents -> the Weasley kids -> Fleur. James, Sirius -> Peter, Remus, Lily -> Severus.

That's not really recruitment from school.

If I personally were to use the school to groom/recruit children to fight for me in a war: I would be trying to get the best from every year. I would be heavily encouraging kids from all year levels that show promise to take certain classes and learn certain spells... Then, I would assess them when they graduate: '71, '72, '73, '74, '75, '76, '77, '78 was a big year. '79, '80... A constant trickle. A couple of new people this year, one the next - and they are all likely to bring at least a friend along, too - right...?

Yet we don't really see that happen. It's just that one bumper crop from 78, that one friend group. Were there NO talented graduates in any other year...? Was ONLY Griffindor considered...?

There isn't exactly a 'skill requirement' to join the Order. You had people there just to source information. Remus did werewolf jobs. Peter Pete'd all over the place. There were min. 2 pregnancies...

They were losing people - if they needed quantity over quality, if they only really needed base loyalty and a good heart... why NOT recruit more students? And yet there's just one blip in 78.

That doesn't particularly scream 'groomed child soldiers' to me. BUT - there are 6 people from the first Order whose ages can't be estimated. Are they the missing child soldiers from the years before/after the Marauders? Dunno.

[tedwardremus]

Oh!!!!

I got one, Mad-Eye babysitting Teddy Lupin and it’s a complete disaster, moodboard

As always, please and thank you 😊

Alastor "Mad-Eye" Moody had faced dark wizards, curses, and two deadly wars. He had trained countless Aurors and sacrificed more body parts than he cared to count, all in the name of keeping the wizarding world safe.

But nothing—nothing—had prepared him for this.

The toddler with blue hair sat across from him, staring at a plate of spaghetti with all the indignation of an Azkaban prisoner. Teddy Lupin was small but fierce, his chubby little face set in a defiant pout, his Metamorphmagus abilities on full display as his hair cycled through a kaleidoscope of colors.

Moody narrowed his good eye at the child, while his magical one spun furiously, keeping track of every potential threat—though right now, the greatest danger seemed to be the cold spaghetti Teddy refused to touch.

"Eat," Moody growled, pointing at the plate. "It's not going to kill you."

Teddy’s blue hair turned a deep red, the toddler's tiny nose wrinkling in rebellion. “No!”

Moody sighed, leaning back in his chair. Babysitting had never been on his list of duties, but when Tonks—his former protégé and the closest thing he had to family—had asked him to watch her son for an afternoon, he hadn't the heart to say no. And honestly, how hard could it be?

Apparently, very hard.

“Right, if you won’t eat,” Moody grumbled, getting to the heart of the matter, “let’s talk about this watch.”

Teddy’s face was a mask of innocence, but Moody wasn’t fooled. Somewhere in this house was Remus Lupin’s old watch—a family heirloom. Tonks had told him Teddy had a tendency to make things disappear, but Moody didn’t expect a toddler to outwit him so easily.

“I know you took it,” Moody said, folding his arms. “You think you can hide it from me? I’m an Auror. I’ve interrogated Death Eaters.”

Teddy’s red hair now shifted to green, his eyes brightening with delight. He giggled and pointed at Moody’s magical eye.

“Spinny!”

The magical eye rotated slowly, focusing on the toddler. “Yes, yes, very amusing. But where’s the watch?”

Teddy didn’t answer, instead reaching over and grabbing a handful of spaghetti, smearing it across the table. Moody winced, his patience wearing thin. He had dealt with rogue wizards and ambushes, but he had never been this outmatched.

“Alright, Lupin,” Moody growled, standing up and pacing around the room. “You’ve left me no choice. Time to bring out the big wands.”

With a flick of his wand, the lights dimmed. The toddler stared at Moody in awe as he waved his wand, creating tiny, glowing orbs that danced in the air.

“Confession time, Teddy,” Moody said in a mock-serious tone. “Tell me where the watch is, or I’ll… turn all your hair brown.”

Teddy gasped dramatically and clutched his head, eyes wide with mock horror. “Nooo!” he squealed.

Moody cracked a rare smile. At least the kid had a sense of humor.

With another flick of his wand, he sent the glowing figures twirling around Teddy, who laughed and clapped in delight. But the moment was short-lived as Moody’s magical eye caught sight of something gleaming in the corner.

The old grandfather clock was slightly ajar. Moody's eye zoomed in, catching a glint of silver tucked inside the mechanism.

“Ah-ha!” Moody strode over, reached into the clock, and pulled out Remus’s watch.

Teddy burst into giggles again, clapping his spaghetti-covered hands.

Moody returned to the table, watch in hand. He wiped it off with the edge of his robe and slipped it into his pocket. “You’re a crafty one, Lupin.”

Teddy beamed as if being called “crafty” was the highest compliment.

“Alright, lad,” Moody said, sitting back down at the table. “You win this time. But next time—next time—I’ll be ready.”

Teddy stared up at him, his hair now shifting back to blue. He picked up a single strand of spaghetti, dangling it above his mouth with great concentration.

“Eat it,” Moody encouraged. “One bite. That’s all I’m asking.”

With a look of intense determination, Teddy slurped the spaghetti noodle into his mouth. Moody raised an eyebrow, impressed.

“Good lad,” he muttered. “Good lad.”

Send me a character/pairing and an aesthetic/concept and I’ll make a moodboard based on the ask!

[toomanyfandoms-notenoughfics]

Celestial Beings

𝘊𝘩𝘢𝘱𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘖𝘯𝘦: 𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘉𝘦𝘨𝘪𝘯𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨

Characters- Alastor Moody, Molly Weasley, Reader

Summary- It's an introduction to our Reader's situation, laying the groundwork for the rest of the story. Don't worry, Remus and Sirius will be in the next chapter.

Word Count- 1,342

Warnings- None really for this chapter, slight mention of torture

Confusion is the first thing (y/n) felt. Then it was the raging headache and the pain in her lower abdomen. She opened her eyes, only to be met with more darkness, the sound of dripping water echoing throughout whatever room she was in. (Y/n) was not sure of how she got here, or even as to where “here” is.

The last thing (y/n) remembered was sneaking out of Borgin and Burke’s while everyone else was distracted. Just needing a bit of fresh air. Then, right as she shut the door and rounded the corner, there was a flash of color and the world went dark.

Suddenly the old iron door swung open with enough force to make the cement wall behind it crumble ever so slightly. Light followed soon after, the person who had entered silently casting Lumos. (Y/n) squinted, trying to grow accustomed to the now very bright room, shielding her eyes with her arm.

“You’re up,” grunted the man. “Finally we can talk.”

(Y/n) stayed silent, taking the opportunity to survey the room they were in. Room was too nice of a word, it was more like a cubby. The walls and floors seemed to be either stone or concrete, cracks covered the one farthest from the door. In one of the corners was a sleeping bag with an old ratty blanket.

“Are you listening to me?” Barked the old man. “If not I suggest you start, otherwise this will begin to be quite unpleasant for you.”

“I’m sorry, but was that a threat or a promise?” (Y/n) taunted. “Because either way I don’t care.”

“Are you sure about that? I don’t think you quite grasp the situation here. I’m very willing to do whatever I must to gather information out of you, regardless of my own morals and emotions.” He lowered his wand, just enough so (y/n) could see his face.

(Y/n) recognized him instantly, and it must have shown on her face due to his chuckle. His eye, or rather the prosthetic he had for his eye, gave him away instantly. This wasn’t one of Lucius’s loyalty tests, nor was it someone who she could easily run from. This was Mad-eye Moody, an Auror known for going to extremes to get what he needs.

“Now, perhaps you need some time to think on my offer, after all, I hit you with a very strong stunning spell. Who knows,” Moody shrugged. “Maybe some more time in the dark will be just what you need to get your thoughts together. I’ll come back tomorrow, hopefully, your stance will have changed by then.”

“I highly doubt it.” (Y/n) sneered. “After all, if you are my captor, that gives me all the more reason to stay quiet.”

Moody put out his light and shut the door, leaving (y/n) in complete darkness yet again. She slowly felt her way across the floor, finding the sleeping bag and blanket. She sat, cross-legged on the sleeping bag, pulling the blanket onto her lap.

“Is this a test?” She thought to herself. “Could he be secretly under a curse? Or maybe he’s been in on it from the beginning, plenty of death eaters are on the other side as spies, some with deeper covers than others.”

(Y/n)‘s eyes started to adjust, it wasn’t pure darkness but there wasn’t any true light source either. She could faintly make out the barrier spells on the walls, and more importantly the door. The pale blue shade helping give the room a form, like seeing on a grid, with no detail just the dimensions. She ran her hand across the wall, watching the spell turn into darker hues the closer she got.

Sighing she rested her head against the cool wall, closing her eyes. “Test or not, I hate this place. I can’t even tell how long it’s been since I woke up, let alone since Borgin’s.”

It seemed to be an eternity before the door opened once more, this time a woman holding a lantern entered. She was red-headed, a little plump, and had the faintest of smiles on her face. She looked (y/n) up and down, and the smile slowly disappeared, instead replaced with pursed lips.

“Dear, did they not give you a change of clothes? Or at least a pillow?” The woman tutted. “Well, can I interest you in some stew? Just made some for dinner, and figured you might be a bit starving as well.”

“Wait, I’ve seen her before, she isn’t a Death Eater. This can’t be a test, not unless the Weasleys have suddenly changed their opinions.” (Y/n) backed farther away, causing the Weasley woman to frown.

“I promise it isn’t poisoned. Might be a bit cooled off by now, but still enough to be edible.” The woman reached behind the door, bringing out a small wooden bowl and setting it on the ground. “Here, I’ll take a bite first to prove it.”

“I’m not hungry.” (Y/n)‘s stomach however believed otherwise, grumbling in betrayal as she spoke.

“I’ll just leave it here, in case you find yourself hungry later.” The Weasley woman said, backing out of the doorway. “I’ll see what I can do about getting you some light and a change of clothes. Moody seems to think the only way to go against someone is to behave the same way they would.”

(Y/n) sat there and waited for the door to shut and the light from under it to fade. As soon as she was back in the dark she snuck forwards towards the bowl. Very carefully and very slowly she searched the floor for it. Grasping the bowl with both hands she started eating ravenously.

Gently placing the bowl back in front of the door, she stood up, stretching her legs out. Wiping the sides of her mouth with the back of her sleeves she chuckled. The stew was better than anything Narcissa ever had someone else make. Feeling along the walls, (y/n) started walking in circles, watching the colors grow and fade as she moved her hand along the barriers.

After concluding there were no weaknesses, (y/n) found her way back to the makeshift bed. She had found where the dripping was coming from, it was on the wall left of the door, almost perfectly nestled into a crack in the corner. She wrapped the blanket around herself, opting to fall asleep rather than await another visit while staring at the nothingness of her room.

When (y/n) woke up for what seemed to be the 100th time, nothing new or changed in the cell. The blanket was still scratchy, there was no light, and her bones ached. She felt around, finding a small bit of concrete, and threw it towards the door. Just as it reached the barrier the door opened, filling the room with blinding light once more.

“You know, a heads up would be nice.” (Y/n) groaned, squinting towards the door and watching Moody enter in. “Oh, it’s just you.”

“Have you had ample time to decide?” Moody ignored her remarks, shutting the door behind him and hanging the lamp on a small hook next to him. “It would be much easier on you if you just answered my questions without a fight. Otherwise, well, I’m sure you’re familiar with all the different ways to get people to reveal their secrets.”

“Go ahead, what’s really going to happen,” (Y/n) stood up and stretched. “It won’t matter if I tell you the truth or not, you’ll never fully believe I’m being honest. It’s okay, it’s not like I plan on telling you anything anyways. What would be the point if I know you won’t believe me?”

“I had a feeling that’s how this was going to go,” Moody pointed his wand at (y/n). “Just remember, I gave you an out.”

“No you really didn’t.” (Y/n) thought to herself as Moody cast the first Cruciatous Curse of many.

~~{𝘌𝘯𝘥 𝘰𝘧 𝘊𝘩𝘢𝘱𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘖𝘯𝘦}~~

[weeklyreadings]

Week 3

through the gaps of sunlight By @pancakehouse and tempus_fugit_and_all_that

Rated E. 47k. Wolfstar

Summer, 1860. At the tail end of a rather uneventful season, the town of Godric’s Hollow is stirred into frenzy by the long-awaited return of one of their own…

After five years away, Remus comes home. And Sirius is engaged to someone else.

Jasmine in Bloom by @lqtraintracks

Rated E. 41k. Drarry

This is not something Draco can have in his life… Potter overturning all that he’s carefully cultivated. They’re not compatible and never will be. Draco’s been playing with fire. It just so happens that he likes how Potter smoulders before being allowed close enough to burn.

No Harm by Tessa Crowley (tessacrowley)

Rated E. 47k. Drarry

After a long, bloody war, Draco Malfoy just wants to do something good with his life for a change, and resolves to become a healer. But magical society refuses to make it easy for him, and an increasingly dramatic series of events—all of them instigated by Harry Potter—get him kicked out of med school, force him to live in exile, and threaten to destroy the new life he’s trying so desperately to build.

But Harry isn’t instigating anything—at least not on purpose. He’s just trying to work up the nerve to ask him out. His efforts don’t appear to be going great.

Nothing in Particular by purpledinosaurss, tofulover

Rated M. 45k. Wolfstar

Auror's Headquarters, November 1st, 1981. In one interrogation room sits a bored Remus Lupin; in another, an irritated Sirius Black. Just earlier that day, the duo and four other rogues (identified by security as James Potter, Lily Evans, Peter Pettigrew and Regulus Black) have turned up at the doors of the Ministry of Magic with a dead body and five destroyed horcruxes. The Wizarding World is on a cliff's edge, and Auror Alastor Moody has two simple instructions: find out what happened to Voldemort, and get the suspects to say who killed Orion Black.

Never Mind the Bollocks by @the-sinking-ship

Rated E. 119k. Drarry

If someone told Harry six months ago that by autumn he would be single, living on whisky and toast, and dancing the night away with Draco Malfoy, he would have told them to get their head checked.

And yet, here he was.