#her mother was so mad when she found out but daphne found it funny as hell

[scorpiusmalfoylovesoscarwilde]

headcanon that astoria went through a rebellious phase in her teens and got a nose piercing and a tiny hidden tattoo on her hip ✨️

[baelubbs]

𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐆𝐀𝐙𝐄𝐑 𝐋𝐈𝐋𝐈𝐄𝐒, 𝐁𝐄𝐍𝐄𝐃𝐈𝐂𝐓 𝐁.

SUMMARY, in which you had just confessed your love to benedict and he feels the same, he promised you nothing but the best for you two. if so why is he regretting the thought of marriage and love? but everyone knows he regrets saying such things when you overheard.

MASTERLIST , 𝓌ord count, 3.3k

𝒲hen you were young, you dreamed of marrying a prince. a man who looked kind and handsome, a man with a smile filled with pearly white teeth, a charming smile, an adoring feature you hoped your kids would have ━ and you did.

Your parents had been invited to Aubrey Hall, to celebrate a small party for Daphne's birthday. To be frank, you were mesmerized by Benedict Bridgerton.

The boy had a contagious laugh, a stupid slanted smile, and was decent at pallmall. He had tamed brown hair that shone brighter when the sun hit it at the right angle. He was simply the boy who made your heart pitter-patter when he helped you position the ball right.

From then on, he was the boy you expected to see when you visited Aubrey Hall. You will say that your childhood was more vibrant when you were with him, he was a mischievous boy, always wanting to have fun.

Benedict would always drag you along, making him your best friend. It felt different when you grew up to be a beautiful lady, that boy was now a man. A man you couldn't be that careless around anymore, not if you wanted to get married.

Benedict couldn't understand but he found different ways to play around with you. Sending you flirtatious glares around the ballroom, inviting you to dance, and whispering some things in your ears that made you flush red.

Though you loved it, finding a husband with the boy always at your hip made it rather hard. It seemed to change when you were serious about getting married, making the boy utterly lost for words.

"Darling, why are you ignoring me?" Benedict had snuck up behind you with a cup of champagne and whispered the first bit. You turn around surprised at his appearance. "Benedict, not now please." You huffed, looking at the young man who asked for the next dance.

"Why are you mad?" You could hear it in his voice that he was being playful but you couldn't care less. "Benedict." You gave him a look, making him realize you were up for no joke. "Miss Hawthorn, a dance? " The young gentleman had interrupted your gaze with Benedict, making you snap out of it and smile at him.

While the two of you danced, Benedict just watched. He walked around the room, eyes on you. That was until his gaze was interrupted by his mama catching him. “Mother, I did not see you.” Violet could hear it in his voice that he was beginning to be troubled. “Dearest, what is on your mind?” She ripped her eyes away from him to the dance floor. 

Oh, she knew. She could see you smile at the Lord who had said something funny while you two danced. “Oh, Benedict..” Violet hugged his arm, making him hum and look down at her. “What is it, mother?” Benedict wanted to know what she was thinking about. 

“You know, all of us love her. She’d be a great daughter–in–law.” Violet smiled at her second oldest. Benedict looked at his mother in nothing but bewilderment, was she mad? You were his beloved friend, a friend he wanted to keep close to because, in all sincerity, he would be lost without you. 

“Dearest, I see the way you look at her, your father would call you a fool in love if he were to see it.” Violet tapped his arm before leaving him to dwell in his thoughts. A fool in love? Was he in love with you? His heart was demanding it, and who was he to deny it from it? 

When the dance had finished, he rushed to your side once again. “A dance, Miss Hawthorn?” Benedict avoided your eyes, making you a bit confused. “Of course, Mister Bridgerton.” You were hesitant to grab his hand but reluctantly you gave in as he led you once again to the dance floor. 

Everything felt hot for you, you simply didn’t know why. You had danced with Benedict far too many times, was this time perhaps different? His grip on your waist was a bit tight and his gaze seemed darker. “Benedict, is everything all right?” You whispered just enough for him to hear you. 

You were a whole gap away from him but he felt your lips mere inches away. Benedict could only look at your lips as you kept muttering things to get his attention, were your lips always alluring? They had a beautiful shade of pink that blended with a shade of light red. 

Was it wrong to see you differently now? He always saw you as his best friend, a girl who was still young and fed his artistic desires. Now he felt off, he wanted to plant his lips on you this very instance. “Why are you mad at me?” He asked. 

You just looked at him with bewilderment, had he not gotten the slightest idea why? You sigh and look away, trying to recollect your thoughts, wanting to tell him most adequately. “Benedict, I’m simply trying to seek something.” You say, trying to initiate a thought in him. 

“You’ve lost me,” Benedict asked, confused, making you shut your eyes. “I’m seeking a husband Benedict and if I’m always by your side, it makes it hard–it gives people the wrong idea.” You whispered and somehow he heard you clear as day. 

The dance continued, and his grip on you became tighter each time, and when the song came to an end, he spoke again. “Let them get the wrong idea.” He said, and suddenly the room felt empty. You looked up at him, his gaze changed, and he looked yearningly. He wanted nothing but to keep you right by his side, he didn’t want to share you. He had you first. 

“Please, give me a moment.” You hurriedly walked away, making him instantly keep his eyes on you as you left. 

The air felt heavy, too hot, and suffocating. Benedict had just added fuel to the fire you wanted to put out. Benedict? Oh, Benedict. He made it hard to breathe like he steals the very air you need. How would you talk to him after this, he had made it hard to do so. 

Then a sudden crunch of the gravel made you look behind, and the very man that took too much space of your heart stood before you. “Benedict? Why are you here?” You asked clenching your fan, you were scared. Scared you were going to lose something tonight. 

“I need to speak with you.”He said, looking at you the same moment before. He stepped forward and was just mere inches away from you. He looked down at you deeply, his hand visibly shaking. “Benedict, this doesn’t look right.” You push away, not wanting to cause a scandal. 

“I love you.” The three words tasted rather foreign. It caught you off guard, making you stop in your tracks. 

“Benedict, you don’t know what you're speaking of.” You denied his words, not believing him. “Please don’t play with my feelings like that.” To be honest, you were quite hurt, was this a joke to him? Was your future a joke to him? “I do know what I’m speaking of, trust me, it is the truth.” Benedict's large hand held yours and you could feel them tremble. 

“I’ve been a blind fool for far too long.” His grip didn’t falter once, and suddenly you wanted to listen. Seeing your sudden interest he continued,” I don’t want to lose you to someone else, I want you right by my side–In so many other ways, you’re my best friend, a companion I wish to grow old by.” His blabbering caused him to be deaf to your words, he ignored your eye contact. 

He had pushed his forehead to rest on yours, feeling confident once your touch calmed him. Your breath was caught in your lungs and your eyes stung with tears, you smiled weakly listening to him talk, it was the mere words you dreamt of hearing. “So please please, I beg of you to stay by my side as my lover, as my wife.” He finally opened his eyes, and oh, did his heart turn. 

You were mesmerizing, the candled venue gave you a hue of color, enough to shine your brimming eyes and rosy cheeks. “Oh, Benedict of course I will.” You laughed lightly before nodding hurriedly. Then he did the unimaginable, he kissed your lips. A kiss that felt soft and sweet, that was when you let your tears finally leave your eyes.

The kisses were short and sweet, he loved it. He kept them like that so he could dive it for seconds. You felt his lips kiss every inch of your face, making you flush red. “Be mine right now. Be mine forever, I’ll give you everything you want, just please be mine.” He said in between the airy kisses. “Benedict, I’ve always been yours, ever since you taught me how to play pallmall.” You laughed. 

He laughed along with sincerity in his eyes, before taking you along to break the news to both of your families, who were nothing but happy for you two. 

It had been a mere 2 weeks since his confession, and the Bridgerton house was filled with buzzing attention. Violet and Kate were trying to help you look for a wedding dress, and try to help coordinate this wedding. You were grinning ear to ear, you were marrying your prince soon. 

Although throughout this whole process, you had barely seen your to–be husband. Benedict just left a longing kiss on your mouth ever since the night he promised you marriage. Anthony just said he was busy preparing everything for your wedding, but it still felt off. 

Still, today was your last day in their home since you had to return home to make preparations over there too. You were bidding farewell to the younger ones and Violet, thanking her for letting you stay all this time. She had just smiled and whispered in your ear that you were soon going to be around more often. 

Kate had gone to walk by your side as you looked for Benedict, wanting to wish him good night. You smiled at the thought of him telling you good night as well, and as if he heard your wish, he spoke. “If I’m being honest, I don’t know if this wedding is a good idea.” Those exact words wiped the smile off your face, making you stop in your tracks. 

“Whatever do you mean brother?” Colin asked surprised, making Anthony demand it too. “It’s just I feel like it is still so sudden, I’m a bit lost, ever since I left the academy,” Benedict explained, making the other two rather confused. “I don’t want to drag her into my troubles.” He stated. 

You could feel Kate hold your hand, both of you in shock to step in. “I just feel bad because I’ve ruined her, I shouldn’t have done that.” He spoke out, making your heartbreak. Did that kiss not mean anything? Did those damm words mean nothing? Were his stupid promises filled with nothing but nonsense? It seemed like it. 

Suddenly the tension was cut when a butler called out, “Miss Hawthorn, the carriage is ready.” A gasp could be heard. You suddenly walked away, wanting nothing but to get out of there. You choked back a sob as the three busted out of the room. 

As you leave the house you can hear Benedict call after you. “Darling, don’t leave.” It seemed his passionate monologue had woken up the other bystanders on the sidewalk, now attracted to a new source of drama. 

“Leave me alone, Benedict.” You cried out, wanting nothing but to leave and cry your lungs out. “Please, I’ll marry you someday. You’re utterly perfect for me!” He said wanting nothing but to hold you and tell you it was a huge misunderstanding. 

Someday?

Someday when he felt like a man. 

You got into the carriage just to drown out his pleas, quickly knocking on the roof of the carriage. Making your coachman hastily leave the Bridgertons alone, and Benedict freaking out. 

“Why would you dare utter such words, Benedict?!” Kate had yelled at the man, making him even more guilty of it. “I didn’t mean them in a horrid way!” Benedict tried to defend himself, but his new sister in–law wasn’t having it. “You shouldn’t even speak them!” Kate huffed out visibly getting angry at the stupidity of the Bridgerton men. Anthony walked right beside his wife in an attempt to calm her down, and like the faithful husband he was, he was automatically on her side. 

“Kate is right brother, why utter such words?” Anthony asked, making the second oldest sigh in nervousness. Violet walked right in when the argument became still, she was forced to put the youngest siblings down for bed. “Benedict, answer your brother,” Violet spoke calmly, but Benedict could sense it. She was angry, and he didn’t like to see her mad. 

Everyone in the room looked at him and it made him want to break down and run to you. “I’m scared.” Benedict finally confessed, making everyone rather still. “She’s too good for me, she deserves so much more! I’m so lost, I don’t hold a title like you brother! I’m a disappointment of an artist, I don’t deserve her.” Benedict yelled, enough to leave everyone speechless. 

He pushed his way out and ran to his room, locking himself in, not knowing what to do. Honestly, Benedict regretted everything that vomited out of his mouth. He was a stupid idiot. 

Benedict cried that night, it seemed his perfect plan was crumbling, he wanted nothing but you in his arms. As if someone heard his cries, they knocked on his door. “Benedict, please open the door,” Violet whispered, she felt stupid knowing she didn’t see her boy struggling until now. 

Violet heard shuffling around the other until a little creek was heard, and there was her little boy. Tears streamed down his cheeks and, his nose and eyes were all red. “Have I done something wrong, mother?” He asked softly. Violet could only cry out. “You have done nothing wrong Benedict.” She pushed him further into his room. 

That night Benedict felt like a little boy, his mother running her fingers through his hair. Letting it soothe his mind, they spoke of many things that night. How they would go to your home first thing in the morning to clear this misunderstanding, and how it was okay to be scared. 

He had the right to be scared but he had to realise you were probably even more scared. His mother soothed him to bed speaking of how much you loved him, that everyone in this house could tell so. 

He slept so soundly, he just wished you were there instead of his mother. 

When the time came to depart to your home, Violet rode with him. Giving him nothing but advice on how to approach you. He was a sweating mess, were you truly going to forgive him? 

“Mister Bridgerton.” The sturdy voice of your father sent goosebumps down his skin. “Lord Hawthorn.” Benedict tilted his head down to the older man. “Lady Bridgerton!” Your Mama called out right behind your Father, smiling lightly trying to ease the tension. 

Your mother ushered your father into a separate room, finally turning over to Benedict and Violet. Benedict saw your mother's gaze, it was the same one she’d give him when he got in trouble. To your mother, he was still the young boy who craved your attention. 

“Oh, Benedict.” She hummed, making the boy gaze down like a coward. “She’s in the upstairs drawing room.” She ushered him away, giving him the green light for him to advance. He looked at her surprised, he honestly thought she was going to give him an earful. As he left, she stopped him one more time. “Benedict?” She hummed out, making him look back at her. 

She smiled warmly, a type of smile every mother had. “We love you like a son, we know how worthy you are for her.” She sent him away with a new source of confidence, as she and his mama leave for tea. 

Benedict grew up in your home, just as you did in his. He remembered everything about this house, when you dragged him around, or when you two snuck out in the middle of the night. 

The drawing room held a color of pale pink, with shades that went from light to dark. He’d say it was the color that suited you the best, it clashed with your skin perfectly. His eyes wandered looking for your silhouette. You were sitting with your back turned to him, embroidering something. 

He spoke, but the words failed to make noise. Benedict snuck behind you only to catch a glimpse of what you were doing. You were embroidering his initials down to a handkerchief you were going to gift him the day of your wedding. 

Then out of so much concentration, a small piece of hair fell out of your bun, so like the boy he was, he placed it behind your ear. Finally snapping out of your trance, you jump to see Benedict. He could only wish he could slap himself after seeing your expression, your eyes were puffy and red, and you looked so tired of crying. 

“Benedict?” Your voice was small and quiet, and now did he notice you hid the handkerchief. He fixed his posture slightly, fiddling with his top hat that allowed him to poor out his anxiety. “Can we talk?” His voice mirrored yours, finally able to look into your eyes. You were hesitant but gave in. 

Letting him sit right next to you, you could feel his body tense up as he ‘eases’ down on the sofa. The quietness was eating both of you, it made your heart break all over again. “Did you mean those words?” You asked, looking hesitantly at him. 

“No! No, I regretted them the moment I spoke them.” He abruptly turned over to you, looking right at you with desire. “I’m scared I am not what you deserve..” The moment when those words spilled out of his mouth, you cried out. “Benedict you fool, you’re everything I want.” You pushed out tears. 

“Please let me finish.” He wiped your tears away with his large hands, then slid his fingers to your chin, tilting it up so he could see your eyes. “I’m lost my dear, my art is taking me nowhere.” He uttered, continuing. “I regret violating your innocence, I should’ve married you first.” He wiped your fresh tears again before placing a soft kiss on your forehead. “Oh Benedict you simpleton.” You spoke out, finally taking his face into your hands. “I’ve loved you since I was of the age of fourteen, loved how you used me for a reference for your paintings, how you called it ‘needing something beautiful to draw’, you had no idea such words made me feel.” Slowly placing kisses on his skin and it growing warm after. 

“Loved how you took care of me when I grew sick, how you’d teach me how to paint even though I was horrible at it.” Placing your lips everywhere. “You have no idea how much I want you, Benedict.– Don’t ever say you’re not worthy of me, because I would choose you no matter what.” With that, you simply place a kiss on his lips. 

Benedict didn’t know how to explain it but something blossomed in his heart at that very moment. His fingers held the side of your face as if you were a rare pink stargazer lily when he kissed your lips, but dare he say they tasted sweeter the first time he kissed you. 

When you two parted, it felt right. “Would you still marry me?” He asked placing his forehead on yours, wanting nothing but hold you until they ripped him off of you. “Yes Benedict, Yes I will.”

[invisibleinorange]

Chapters: 7/? Fandom: Bridgerton Rating: T Warnings: Presumed Character Death Relationships: Colin Bridgerton/Penelope Featherington,  Eloise Bridgerton/Penelope Featherington(besties),  Bridgerton Family Dynamics, Simon Hastings/Daphne Bridgerton Characters: Colin Bridgerton,  Penelope Featherington, Eloise Bridgerton, Anthony Featherington,  Benedict Bridgerton,  Portia Featherington, Violet Bridgerton Additional Tags:  Bridgerton, Polin Summary:  Unexpected bad news arrives for the Bridgerton Family (and friends) regarding Colin's travels. This will be a series that is set after "The Duke and I" or season one of the show. It is a companion piece to "Goodbyes". (#I’mHereToKillYouAllWithFeels)

Furious didn’t begin to cover it. Penelope was practically shaking with rage as she made her way into the cool of night.   It was almost nice to feel something other than heartbreak though.

She couldn’t quite put a finger on who she was mad at. It was more a general anger that had been building up for some time.  The proposal had just been a triggered that sent it bubbling up.

She’d had to leave her home or she knew she would have done far worse than raise her voice or walk away from a proposal.  She had spent years dreading the moment she came of age to become part of society.

She’d been a particularly normal child and she knew that once upon a time her mother had treated her much the same she treated her other children.  Her sisters had always been naturally thin, perfectly average but she had always been softer.  Her mother had assumed she’d outgrow the baby fat but it never happened and the older she became, the more her mother saw fit to constantly insult her.

It was a nearly daily battle attack of her appearance and when it wasn’t that, it was something else.  At some point, she’d stopped thinking she’d ever amount to much of anything.  She never quite felt enough. Her mother had ensured as much. When her mother all but deemed her ineligible, she believed it to be true.

That was why she became skilled into camouflaging into walls.  If people didn’t notice her, they couldn’t hurt her.  Only part of her plan had worked.  The problem was that she did care.  She wanted to be the person who got asked to dance. She wanted someone to deliver her flowers. She wanted to be enough for someone.

She had been.

Her mind couldn’t quite believe the words that Colin had written her though. The last words he would ever write her.  There wouldn’t be any romance from Mister Bridgerton.

The fact that Benedict thought that he could just come, propose to her and everything was going to turn out okay was preposterous.

Sure, she knew he was a good guy. That wasn’t her problem though.

She’d spent half her life praying that one day she’d wake up and just be part of the Bridgerton family instead of her own.  She couldn’t do this though; She refused to accept a proposal borne of grief or sympathy.

She wouldn’t curse someone to the misfortunate of being stuck with her, especially when she knew that they weren’t in love with her nor she them.  Her mother would have found it foolhardy to even care about such things but for Penelope Featherington there was nothing more important.

Penelope wasn’t sure that anyone actually loved her. Even Colin had called her a friend.  She project her own feelings into his words a million times over but they didn’t make them his. She wouldn’t have believed them even if he uttered them to her.

That didn’t change the fact that Colin Bridgerton was the only man that she’d ever loved and in the depths of her heart, she wasn’t sure there was room for anyone else.

Colin had been there since he was a boy and even he would never be an old man, he’d be there in hers until her time came.

Perhaps that was why her feet carried her through the streets almost absently until she found herself pushing past a gate and into a darkened graveyard with an adjacent church.  It was almost eerie with the silence.

She made her path through the graves, not even stopping in her own family tomb where she knew her own father laid.  Instead she moved, not settling until she saw the Bridgerton name.  Without a body, Colin would never be placed there amongst his family members.

--

A gloved hand touched her back from behind and it was enough to startle her, made her turn in panic.  As childish as it was, she half expected to see a ghost. Instead she saw something far scarier: Violet Bridgerton.

The last time she’d seen the matriarch of the family, she’d been crumbling but the woman before her seemed back to her usual strength, though clearly sad.

“I apologize for startling you,” Violet said before her eyes seemed to access the situation and concern spread across her features.  “It’s not safe for a Lady such as yourself to be wandering after dark alone, improperly covered for the night.  You’ll freeze, My Dear.  What are you doing out here?”

“I – was,” Penelope stammered, mildly afraid and unable to really formulate an excuse in her head.  A part of her wondered just how much Violet knew of everything. She wasn’t about to ask.  Instead she recovered, nodded politely and said, “You’re unaccompanied yourself, Lady Bridgerton.”

“Violet, Dear,” she told her with a sad laugh, urging the informality. “I suppose that’s fair. I always sneak out when the children are distracted or asleep, especially when I wish to visit with their father.  I wasn’t aware he already had an audience tonight. Has he been much help?”

Penelope felt relief wash over her in a way.  She felt she had been let in on some really important adult secret.  She couldn’t help but wonder if any of Violet’s children knew about their mother’s habit.  There was something weirdly comforting in knowing that the woman still sought out her husband even though he’d been dead for so long.

Violet’s devotion to her husband was so endearing that Penelope couldn’t help but feel safe to speak openly.

“Sadly no,” Penelope told her.  “Though, I suppose the fact that you’re here could be an answer in itself. I’m sorry if I’m intruding on your time.”

Was this a sign?  Had Colin directed his mother here from Heaven to show her that even if he was gone it was okay to love him forever?

“It’s not an intrusion.  I’d be remiss to not side with you and say that this meeting was kismet,” the elder Bridgerton told her.  “Please unburden yourself on me.  My children think I’m so delicate that they’ve taken to keeping everything from me, forcing my convalesce instead of letting me attend to them and they’re the ones who need their mother most right now.”

Never in her life had she wanted Violet Bridgerton to be her mother more.

“Funny,” she started with a light smile. “They’re treating me much the same. Less mothering, more thinking I need to be … taken care of.”

“Do you not wish to be?” Violet asked, almost disregarding that there could possibly be more questions to ask before that for context. There was something in the look in her eyes that told Penelope that somehow the older woman knew far more than she was saying though.

“Not like this,” Penelope told her honestly.

“I take my role as mother very seriously. I’ve always known my children and the things that make them who they are.  I’ve known that you fancied my son for far longer than probably even you are aware. I’m also aware that of his many gifts, being quick on the uptake isn’t one of them,” Violet started in, leaving Penelope to awkwardly shift on her feet.  “Colin is – was – remarkable and I have no doubt he could have made you very happy but as his mother, I have to urge you to not miss out on life mourning him. Graveyards are lonely places to spend one’s time sneaking away to.”

“It’s not-“ Penelope started, wanting to protest a little and perhaps explain.

“No, you listen to me. When my Edmund died, the world ceased spinning on its axis. It took a considerable amount of time to find my footing again.  I had to learn to navigate life again. My children are who restored me. They healed me and every day I strive to heal them.  Grief doesn’t fade but you learn to live without those who leave you. My children are the living, breathing proof of a great love that exists only in my heart these days. They give my life meaning as they grow and begin their own lives. You must find what gives your life meaning. You do not have to let Colin go from your heart to leave room for others to enter it.”

“I don’t think anyone is exactly fighting for room in my heart,” Penelope finally managed to say. She still wasn’t completely sure how much her older companion knew. Would she be speaking to her in such a manner if she did.   “I don’t think I’m meant for a great love like yours. Not now.”

“Honestly Penelope Featherington!” Violet said with a motherly tick.  “You’re a delight. I’ve known you since the day your mother birthed you.  I won’t hear this because it’s simply not true. You were always destined for greatness. You’re just a caterpillar who hasn’t quite transformed into a butterfly yet.  Someone was always bound to see you for who you are.  I would have loved to have you as a daughter but even if you were never meant to be a Bridgerton, we’ll always be there to remind you of your worth. ”

[ottostherapy]

Forbidden love

Pansy Parkinson x Slytherin!Reader

summary: 5.th year Slytherin dormroom conversation between Pansy, Daphne and the Reader lead to a weird role-play in the halls until the fellow Slytherins bring firewhiskey. A truth and a dare later Pansy and the Reader find themselves in an awkward position.

Word count: 3368

a/n: Okay. I have been inactive for a few years now, I know. I thought I had deleted this account to be honest, I reckon I haven’t. I am completely obsessed with the Wizarding World at the moment and I had this funny idea about writing a Pansy Parkinson fanfic/imagine (because I only found a few asking auntie google).

„Okay now. Y/N, your turn.” Pansy Parkinson was stretched on her sheets, prone with her head supported by her hands, legs dangling in the air, her feet furiously paddling forth and back. “Let’s go with Vincent Crabbe, Marcus Flint and …”, she frowned.

“Percy Weasley!” Daphne Greengrass, currently right next to me, tugged comfortably under my blankets, feet intertwined, exclaimed, chuckling.

I rolled my eyes. My best friends shot each other a glance, holding in laughter. They, of course, knew all too well I didn’t approve of their choices.

“I’ll most definitely kill Marcus, have you guys ever looked at him?” I shivered. “I might marry Percy of all of them, after all, he was headboy a few years ago and he seems to be quite … decent.” I puckered my lips.

Pansy in her own bed, like the princess she was, snorted. “You’d have to deal with a dozen of the other red-headed Weasleys then!”

“Still better than Vince to be blunt. Imagine having to follow him following Draco all day long.” I snapped the chocolate frog out of Daphne’s hand and beheaded it. She pouted.

“Oh my, my. Wouldn’t that be perfect, Y/N? Maybe you could start a steamy love affair.” Pansy grinned turning to her side. Her hand now ruffled in her dark hair, with that sly smile plastered to her lips, raised an eyebrow at me. Her black pyjama had given in to gravity, entwining around her waist.

“Isn’t he reserved for you, Pans?” I said, trying to swallow the bitter tone, that had settled on the back of my tongue.

“Would you stop talking about Draco?” Daphne shoved the last piece of chocolate into her mouth. “I perfonnally fink he if no-boyfriend material”, she licked the tips of her fingers, “and both of you know that!” Daphne had never been fond of Draco, even though we technically were friends. To some degree at least.

“I don’t even want to be more then whatever we are right now”, I crossed my arms over my torso, expecting Pansy to repeat after me, however she didn’t.

She just shrugged. “I don’t really mind. He has a cute side to him, don’t you think?”

I silently exchanged disgusted look with Daphne.

“No, Pansy. I tend to not think about him ever too often … Actually I tend to not think at all, I heard it endangers my stupidity, so I’m limiting that, maybe you should try it out as well.” It would definitely do her better than frequently thinking about the blonde boy.

“Well Y/N, I am certainly not surprised, I always knew there was something intriguing about you … I just never came around to figure out what it was.” Pansy shot me a smirk and her eyebrow popped again. This girl, Merlin!

“Oh, and I always thought it was my astonishing looks.” I snickered.

“No.” If I didn’t know better, I’d interpret Pansy’s rose cheeks for a blush maybe, for a flirtatious side-effect even, but I knew better. “I admire your boldness however, Miss Y/L/N. Maybe you have been sorted into the wrong house.” She sat up, hovered her bare feet over the stone floor. “We could be living a forbidden romance, imagine.” To my luck she turned the lights off, tapping off to the bathroom.

I, however, felt my cheeks burning, felt flustered, felt excited. How was Pansy so dreadfully playful with people around her. I knew not to dwell on the feeling she had me at right now, she was princess charming, not only with me. Sometimes I felt as though she needed to push every door open, to have any possibility and I wasn’t sure if it was a compulsive behaviour or if she just had fun doing it.

I snapped out of my thoughts when a warm finger brushed against mine. “Don’t you worry about it.” Daphne whispered. “She’ll realise eventually.” The blonde girl wrapped her arms around me and I sighted.

“How did you know?” I had always been careful to tell secrets, but this one, I hadn’t intended for anyone to find out. Not even Daphne after all.

“Come on, Y/N! I’ve known you for 13 years, don’t you think I can read your emotions by now?” Well, I certainly couldn’t read hers …

As the next morning rose, I was still caught up in the events, that happened last night. My gaze was dancing out of the window – the dim morning sky painted clouds all over the horizon – over to Pansy Parkinson. She was in a deep slumber, her face relaxed, even though her eyelids twitched from time to time.

I remembered her lips touching my forehead ever so slightly in the dark room. “We could be an adventure, darling!” She had whispered before turning to go to sleep herself.

Daphne had snuck her arm around my waist, pulling me close to her body. I knew she just wanted to help, but her embrace had made me feel even worse. I longed for the other girls’ touch, for her body to warm me up, for her to give me comfort. But there was no way Pansy would ever be mine.

I exhaled heavily before getting off to the bathroom. At least this way none of us had to fight for the sink and toilet.

As I was almost done, the door opened and in walked a very sleepy Pansy. She rubbed her Puppy eyes, blinking at me.

“Love”, she whispered. “I didn’t expect you here this early in the morning.” She walked over to me. “How did you get in?”

I gave her a look of confusion. “Are you alright, Pansy?” I handed her her green toothbrush.

“Hush, love.” Her eyes widened. “No one has to know.” She breathed, preparing her toothbrush, stuck it into her mouth. “Don’t shoo remember? Our forbibben love!” She found a loose strand of Y/H/C hair to tuck behind my ear. Her delicate hand brushed against my skin, leaving a tray of tickles. What was happening?

For a moment we stood in front of each other, eying the other girl up and down. Pansy, even with the toothbrush in her mouth, with messy hair, in a wrinkled pyjama made my heart beat faster. Made butterflies whirr around my stomach, made my breath hitch.

She gave me a sleek smile. Could she possibly know?

“Eh, Y/L/N! Cut my ingredients for me?” Pansy pointed to the flobberworm in front of her.

“What is she up to?” I mouthed to Daphne.

She shrugged, but gave me a light push.

“Why should I cut your flobblewobble, Pans?” I felt weirdly intrigued.

“Because I want you to.” She snorted. “You don’t want to get on Snape’s bad side, do you?”

“Pansy, I am not a Gryffindor.” I laughed, even though her determined role-play turned me on. Just a tad bit.

“There’s no denying it, Y/L/N” Pansy crept behind me and pushed her arms to the desk on either side of my body. “Do as you’re told”, she commanded, her voice cold and stern, but she added a muffled “Love” right into my ear.

I felt my knees weaken and decided it would probably be best to obey.

And so I found myself between Pansy’s arms over and over again with her head over my shoulder, watching closely. It went thus far, that Snape gave her a detention for distracting me. She just snickered and I could swear to have heard her say “worth it” as I walked back to Daphne.

The weeks flew by quickly, while the new self-proclaimed head-mistress professor Umbride prohibited almost everything, Pansy still found ways to get me all flustered.

She would place her hand on my thigh when sitting next to each other, pulled me in by my waist to mutter words like “love” or “darling” to me. She made the good-night kisses to my forehead a tradition and sometimes she would come so close to me, I felt her heart race in her chest.

I had realised by now that the feeling was mutual, I wasn’t stupid after all, but I enjoyed being the centre of her undivided attention. If it were up to me, you’d keep up that game she was playing. Granted I liked being her toy, I liked, that she had to know I went mad for everything she did to me, for every feeling, for every little touch.

One day I found myself in the Slytherin common room, accompanied by a large group of my friends. I sat next to Daphne at the large table, attempting to ignore my yelling classmates to write an essay for the transfiguration class. Next to Daphne sat her younger sister Astoria, snickering with two other girls of her year.

Right by the fireside, plopped onto one of the couches, lay Pansy. Her head was nestled in Dracos lap, her knees were bent over the armrest. She had her eyes on me, watching my every move.

I tried to blend it out as best as I could, but my thoughts came back to her piercing brown eyes. My ears were pointed towards their conversation, anticipating Pansy to make a move.

“Honestly, I cannot believe the ministry is that stupid.” Blaise Zabini, a tall boy from my year and a dear friend, sneered.

He was sat opposite to the fire place in an emerald, velvety armchair. All I was able to see from my place was his shaved black hair, but I was certain, he was holding the Daily Prophet, since he was invested in politics.

“They were stupid enough to not lock our parents up in Azkaban.” Draco grimaced. “This has been long overdue.”

Pansy shot up. “Draco, you don’t really think You-know-who will make things better”, she glared at him.

He shrugged. “At least the mudbloods would vanish.”

“Yes, they would, and our backbone as well.” She jumped to her feet. “Just because your parents are his pets, doesn’t mean he treats all his followers with mercy!” Angrily she paced around the small table in the middle of the sofas. “I heard him using the Cruciatus Curse on my mother in the summer, because he perceived my parents disloyal.”

You jumped as she kicked the table. Hesitantly you stood up from your chair.

“I am scared, Draco.” She continued then with a thrilling tone. “And you should be, too!” She allowed herself to fall back to her previous place, however she didn’t consider flopping back to his lap. Instead she waved me over imperiously.

I had my eyes plastered to the ground as I sat down between her and Draco. I felt grateful for my parents not being Death Eaters, I felt grateful I didn’t wake up at nights shivering, I didn’t have to shriek in my slumber, but I felt anxious as well. Unlike many other students, I had no point in denying the dark lord was back, for all your fellow students said.

“I have to admit”, Blaise raised his voice after what felt like an eternity of silence, “I am equally averse.” He pondered, folding the paper in his hand. “I just don’t think we’re standing a chance with these idiots making decisions.”

I felt Pansy’s head resting on my shoulder and a shiver ran down my spine.

Draco on my other side uttered profanities. He knew they were right, but he enjoyed being important. He enjoyed it over the cost it took.

“I hate this.” He groaned, bending forward to hide his face in his hands. Maybe Pansy was right, he could be cute sometimes. When he forgot that he actually was a git.

Nobody dared to object. We just sat for a while, a mutual silence wavering over our heads. Even Astoria and her gang had muted their voices. I wanted to shoot a glance to Daphne, but I didn’t dare breaking the moment.

If the Dark Lord was to recruit my friends, what would I do? Stand my ground? Follow them? Maybe I would just pretend to be too stupid to become one of them. Would he kill me, if he thought I was merely a squib? Or would I have the chance to just stay in the background? I didn’t ever want to find out.

The four of us were jolted out of our thoughts by the lovely “Hello, fuckers!” Millicent Bulstrode threw at us as she entered the common room. She was followed by Vincent Crabbe and Gregory Goyle, who were only ever called by their surnames.

“You will not believe what we managed to sneak in here!” Triumphantly she looked over all of our faces. Crabbe and Goyle grinned stupidly.

Bulstrode shooed Daphne over to where we sat, so our year was almost fully assembled around the small table.

“What is it you have?” Pansy asked, slightly annoyed. She wrapped her hands around my waist, pulling me tighter. She hid her face into the fabric of my grey sweater.

“Firewhiskey!” Bulstrode grinned, taking the brown bottle out of her robe.

“Where’d you get that?” Draco snapped.

“Filch’s office. He had confiscated it from some stupid seventh year Gryffindors, so we confiscated it from him. The pink monster wouldn’t want to find her favourite man drinking, would she?” Bulstrode grunted.

She was a big girl with a big attitude. She stomped over anything in her way and I was lucky enough to have only been once a thorn in her side.

“Well, I am down.” Blaise said. He looked exhausted.

“Yeah, Bullstrode!” Pansy cheered. “That actually is exactly what I need right now.”

“Don’t you think she is going to find out?” Daphne carefully opposed.

Crabbe shook his head. “No one would suspect us, Daphne. We are good students, we behave. She will probably accuse the Weasleys.”

Daphne tilted her head. “Fair point. Let’s play a game then!”

“Truth or Dare!” Pansy decided quickly. Her spirit awakening again. Her head left my shoulder, her hands drawing back to her own body.

I pouted visibly and she gave me a laugh. “Imagine what this game has to offer, love”, she breathed into my ear.

“Okay, I go first!” Goyle exclaimed. He looked challengingly at Bulstrode.

The girl rolled her eyes at him “Dare.” And so she came back 2 minutes later, spilling her entire gathering of sweets to the ground and took a sip, just for the fun. Thus, every one took a sip for fun.

I could feel the alcohol burn its way down my throat. The first few rounds we repeated the procedure, finding out Crabbe had a crush on Hannah Abbott, Blaise had once skinny dipped with Theodore Nott and Daphne certainly did not enjoy giving Draco a lap dance. He didn’t either.

I felt my cheeks burn as my best friend returned to the opposite sofa, crimson-headed. Bulstrode and Goyle laughed malicious laughs at her, handing the bottle over to Pansy.

She took a long sip and handed the bottle over to me. Her cheeks were as red as I imagined mine to be, plus I already felt a tad light-headed, so I passed, handing Draco the bottle. His pale skin had turned a little green, or was that the light? I couldn’t tell.

He as well took a long sip and gulped down the burning liquid. “Dare.” He said, putting the bottle to the middle of the table.

It was Daphne’s turn to set him a task, but she seemed to have lost her voice to her performance, so I quickly chimed in: “I dare you to kiss the cutest person in this room!” Only after I had said my words, I realised he would most likely turn to Pansy for that. Ouch. Why so stupid?

“Out of our round or out of this room?” Blaise enquired. Eyeing to the table where Astoria and her friends were still chatting.

“Room is what I said.” I repeated, hoping Blaise knew something I didn’t.

Draco shook his head. “Can I just drink?” He hissed.

“Nuh-uh.” Pansy had a devilish grin on her face. “You either do the dare or you have to take an article of clothing off … Along with the alcohol, of course.”

Considering the fact, he was only wearing his white shirt, and black school trousers the undressing would be interesting.

Draco glared at Pansy. “I know whom I had to kiss if Y/N had said the most obnoxious person.” He rose from the sofa and walked around the black piece of furniture. He stopped behind Pansy, bowing down to her. His face had changed from green to a light pink.

My fingernails dug into the soft skin of my palms. Of course he was going to kiss Pansy, why didn’t I think beforehand?

Draco’s face came closer to Pansy’s, who had laid her head to her neck. She didn’t even seem to mind.

Right as Draco was to connect their lips, he grimaced. “Ew.” He pulled away.

“You still need to do the dare”, Pansy snickered. Arrogant, as she was, her arm lurked around my shoulder, pulling me into her chest. “You wouldn’t think I’d kiss Draco before you, love, now would you?” I stiffened. Would she? I couldn’t tell. After all this was just a game.

Pansy placed a kiss to my nose, chuckling at me.

While she tried to cuddle me up, Draco walked over to the table. I was sure he had never been so insecure in his whole life. Attentively he tapped her shoulder. We watched as they exchanged a few words.

Suddenly Daphne stood behind him, fuming. “You are not kissing my little sister!” She dragged him back to our table by his wrist. Much to the displeasure of Astoria, who looked after him in her sisters grip dreamily.

Draco and Daphne both seemed relieved as they sat down.

“Pansy. Truth or dare?” Draco immediately shot at the brown-haired girl.

She smirked “Truth.” She fluttered her eyelashes.

“Tell us what you dreamt last night”, Draco demanded.

Pansy turned bright red. I turned my face to look her in the eyes, but she avoided mine. Carefully she opened the buttons to her white blouse.

I gasped. What had she dreamt that she would rather take off her shirt than tell us? Also why did Draco know? Why had she told him about it and not me?

Dracos eyes had a devilish shine. “Well I guess since Pansy couldn’t speak the truth, I can challenge another person.”

No one disagreed, Pansy shivered.

She was wearing a black bra, her skin was patchy, whether it was the alcohol or her embarrassment, she tried to hide it. Her arms crossed in front of her bust.

“Goyle has not been truth or dared yet”, Goyle said, but Draco shook his head.

“I was thinking about Y/N.” I snapped. What was he planning?

“Y/N/N, what do you think?” Draco wrapped his arm around me, pulling me to his side.

What had I, everyone wanted to hug me so badly?

“Dare.” I shoved Dracos arm away.

“That’s what I was hoping for.” He stood up. “I think we are all ready for a snogging session between you and Pansy, five minutes at least and make it entertaining.” He squeezed in between Daphne and Goyle.

“Erm.” I looked over to Pansy. She snorted.

“Really Malfoy?”, she spat. “You do us a favour?”

Draco shrugged. “You’re getting on my nerves. She’s all you’re ever talking about.”

Now was my turn to blush. I was all Pansy ever talked about?

I scooped over, sudden courage flooding my veins.

She took my face into her hands, her soft hands, and smiled shyly at me before I closed the gap between our lips.

I could taste the firewhisky on her lips. I closed my eyes. My heart throbbed against her bare chest and I couldn’t stop my hands from touching her.

She was left with goosebumps under my fingertips. I stroke over her waist to which I earned a whimper from her lips. She arched her back to the direction of my body.

It was funny seeing how she had been so demanding and dominant in the last weeks, but was now melting to my every touch. Oh how she was crazy for me, too.

[alindakb]

Letters to my Parents - Wednesday 25 January 1995 - by Alinda

Wednesday 25 January 1995

Dear mom and dad,

So, it the end of January now, and I have finally figured out the secret of the egg. And all thanks to some help of Cedric and Myrtle. Who wasn’t pleased that I never come to visit her anymore, which I kind of feel bad about, because she had been a good friend to me in my second year. Draco says a good friend doesn’t help you try to commit suicide, but I don’t think he fully understands how lonely I was back then and that if Myrtle hadn’t been there I might have tried even sooner. Which now makes Draco say that would have been better because me almost dying made him realise his love for me was more important than his father's approval. But you know, maybe he should have figured that out without me almost dying, so he has no grounds to complain about my friendship with Myrtle.

But I’ll get back to you about the whole egg thing. First I want to tell you about Hagrid. You know we figured out that he was a giant during the Yule ball. Well, it turns out that we weren’t the only ones that heard his secret. On the first day of term, a news article about him was published in the Daily Prophet. We discovered it during breakfast and I hated that we had to sit out Herbology before we could run off to his cabin for Care of Magical Creatures. When we got there, Hagrid was nowhere to be seen and Professor Grubby-Plank was there to stand in for him. She showed us Unicorns, and it was nice to see them in a better light than the death one Draco and I saw in our first year, but we were worried about Hagrid and struggled to concentrate in class.

The article was very mean, calling Hagrid brutal and saying students were scared of him. And they said that his mother was part of Voldemort’s army of giants that killed many muggles. And Nott and Crabbe were mentioned in the article, saying Hagrid wasn’t able to stop his Hippogriff from attacking the students and that he’s torturing them with his new Blast-Ended-Skrewts. If Professor Grubby-Plank hadn’t called for attention I’m sure we would have ended up fighting with them.

We had lessons all day and I couldn’t wait for it to be over so we could go check on Hagrid. We knocked on his door and a window for over ten minutes, only Hagrid wouldn’t open the door. I know he was there, we could hear Fang’s barks, but he wouldn’t open for us. Hagrid didn’t show himself for the entire week and on Saturday, Draco and I were back at his door, begging him to open up. We screamed that we didn’t care. But it was all for nothing.

Another week went by without Hagrid. Hermione and I even got into a small fight because of it all. She said something about how good the Care for Magical Creatures lessons are now and I just lost it. Draco tells me I should control my anger better, that it’s not Hermione’s fault and that I shouldn’t blame her. And I know he’s right, so the next day I apologised to Hermione. She also said that she should have been more considered and all is good between us again.

That Saturday was a Hogsmeade day, and Draco and I joined our friends on the walk there. It was really funny when we passed the Durmstrang ship. Victor Krum appeared on the deck, dressed in nothing but swimming trunks. We all stopped and watched as he dived into the lake. Greg mentioned that Krum most be mad for jumping into freezing water. And Draco responded with ‘but also good looking mad’.  We all laughed at Greg who just shook his head complaining he should find straight friends, that everyone was betraying him. After which Hermione and Daphne pointed out that they were straight. Greg corrected them and told them he needed straight male friends. That the gays and bi’s are taking the overhand. Blaise said he shouldn’t be worried, that he would still drool over girls with him. And Luna agreed she would too.

After some short shopping, we ended up in the Three Broomsticks. I’d hoped that we would maybe see Hagrid here. Draco told me to stop worrying and enjoy our time with our friends. He suggested to maybe leave a little early so we could have the dormitory to ourself. So I tried, only to be interrupted by Mr Bagman who insisted he needed to speak to me alone. Draco gave him an angry look but let me go with him to the bar. Blaise shouted after us that Bagman could buy us some drinks. He laughed that off and then glanced at some Goblins that seemed to keep an eye on him. I asked them why they were here, and he said that the Goblins were looking for Mr Crouch. And that is how I found out that apparently, Mr Crouch has been ill and that Ron’s brother Percy is keeping the department going with the help of instructions he gets by owl.

I’m sure you can guess what Bagman offered me again. His help. He wanted me to break the rules again. He said it was because he wanted a Hogwarts victory, so I told him to go offer Cedric his help. But Bagman said he had taken a liking to me because of my amazing flying when facing the dragon. I told him I was making good progress with the egg, even though at that point I still had no clue.

I slipped back to my friends and soon Ron, Neville, Seamus and Dean joined us and we had a lot of fun. Until Rita Skeeter came into the pub. She was fishing for a story, even asked me for an interview about the Hagrid I knew. And then the most amazing thing happened. I had expected Draco to lose his temper, but it was Hermione who stood up and called her a horrible woman and told her to keep her quill inside her bag and leave us all alone.

And then she was off. Ron, Draco and I followed her. Ron was worried Skeeter would go for Hermione next, but Hermione didn’t seem to care. She went on and on that Hagrid shouldn’t let Skeeter get to him and that he’s done hiding out in his cabin. She screamed at his door that he should open up, that nobody cared that his mother was a giant and that he couldn’t let that foul Skeeter woman do this to him. And you should have seen her face when the door opened and Headmaster Dumbledore was standing there. He invited us in and we all sat down while the Headmaster summoned some tea and cake. He told Hagrid that we almost broke down his door because we still want to see him. We all agreed with him and told Hagrid that we liked him and didn’t care who his mother was. Draco pitched in that he understands, that there are a lot of students that don’t like him just because his father is Lucius Malfoy and that Hagrid shouldn’t let others get to him, but that he should show them that he’s his own person. And then he hit me in the ribs, motioning with his head for me to pitch in. So I told him I also couldn’t pick my family and that I had to live with the Dursleys who despised magic. And how nobody blames me for them.

I think all of this cheered Hagrid up a little. The headmaster told Hagrid he expected him back at work on Monday and that he would join him for breakfast that day. And then he left. Hagrid then told us about his dad. Even showed us a picture. It turns out his dad died when he was in his second year. But the Headmaster had helped him, made sure he got the job of gamekeeper. He said his father had told him to never be ashamed. So from now on, he will try to keep that in mind and that he’d been an idiot for hiding out in his cabin all this time.

So Hagrid was back at teaching and that left me with only the stupid egg to worry about. Cedric had given me a clue, a couple of days after the ball. He’d told me to go take a bath with the egg. He even gave up the password for the prefects' bathroom. And since Draco and I still hadn’t figured out what the egg was all about, we decided it was time to try out Cedric’s hint and explore the prefects' bathroom. We went at night, tom make sure we would have enough time and that we wouldn’t be disturbed. We used to cloak and the Marauders Map to make sure nobody would spot us out of bed.

Draco was in love with the bathroom as soon as we stepped in. He said he wouldn’t mind being a prefect if it meant he could use the bathroom whenever he wants. The entire room was made out of white marble, including the swimming pool that functioned as the bathtub. It had a hundred golden taps all around its edges, each with a differently coloured jewel set into the handle. Draco didn’t waste any time and placed two towels next to the edge and opened some of the taps. Blue, pink and yellow bubbles the size of footballs started to flow around, just like some purple clouds. The bath filled up with hot water and foam in record time. And then Draco took off his dressing gown and his boxer. He winked at me and then jumped into the bath. I just stood there for a while, I can’t hide that from time to time I’m still amazed about how beautiful Draco is.

When Draco was swimming some laps I took of my own clothes and joined him in the bath. It was so deep that my feet barely touched the bottom. Draco swam to me and wasted no time before he started to kiss me. And it didn’t just stay with kissing. For the first time, we had more space than our small bed and it was just perfect. He turned me around so I could lean over the edge while he entered me, his hands roaming over my body. It was amazing and we both found pleasure and were still having when we both had a heart attack. Out of nowhere, someone said that this was quite the show. We turned around and spotted Myrtle sitting cross-legged on top of the taps.

I screamed at her for spying on us. She just said that she had closed her eyes when we got in, that she didn’t see anything. And then she said I hadn’t been to see her for ages. I felt bad about that. I told her I was sorry and that I would come by more often again. Draco still thinks it’s crazy that I’m friend with Moaning Myrtle, but he lets it be. He doesn’t want to think too much about that time, and what I did that year. I know he knows that I would never do anything like that again, that I won’t leave him like that. But that doesn’t change the fact that for one night he thought he lost me forever.

To change the subject, Draco had picked up the egg and opened it up. It was still wailing and I pushed it close, the sound making me feel nauseous. And then Myrtle told us to try the egg in the water. Apparently, that’s what Cedric had done. Draco asked her if she had been spying on Cedric too. She said, of course, she had and even asked Draco if he’s ever seen Cedric, who would not spy on a good looking boy like that. Draco agreed with her and I slapped him, told him that his boyfriend was standing next to him. So he kissed me and said that I was the only one he ever wanted to see without his clothes on.

After that, we lowered the egg in the water and opened it there. Now it wasn’t wailing, but a gurgling song was coming out of it. Draco and I both took a deep breath and slid under the surface. We listened to the song and then went up to take a breath. The song goes like this:

Come seek us where our voices sound, we cannot sing above the ground. And while you’re searching, ponder this: wove taken what you’ll sorely miss. An hour-long you’ll have to look and to recover what we took. But past an hour, the prospect’s black. Too late, it’s gone, it won't come back.

I went down to listen again, but Draco stayed above the surface. When I got up again I was wondering out loud who wouldn’t be able to use their voices above the ground. Draco and Myrtle both laughed at me. I looked at Draco and he pointed towards the painting on the wall that showed a mermaid sleeping on a rock. And then it all made sense, the song was made by the merpeople. Some times we could see one swimming in the lake through the windows of the common room. And then I turned as white as Myrtle. I hardly know how to swim, let alone be able to breathe underwater for an hour to look for something they took from me. Draco reassured me that we would find a way, that Hermione could help, that she would love the challenge to find a way. He didn’t seem all that worried, he was already guessing what they would steal from me, what it was I would have to retrieve.

After that, we said our goodbyes to Myrtle and I promised again that I would visit her again soon. We pulled the cloak back on and started to make our way down back to the dungeon. At some point, Draco told me to stop. That someone was moving in Professor Snape’s office on the map. We both looked and were surprised to see the name Bartemius Crouch. Mr Crouch is supposed to be sick, not able to even get to the ministry for work. But here he was, sneaking around in Professor Snape’s office.

And then everything went wrong. I was so preoccupied with Mr Crouch’s weird behaviour that I forgot to jump over the trick step. My leg sank down and I dropped the egg. The cloak slipped off us while I tried to grab the egg. Luckily Draco managed to grab the cloak before we lost it. He pulled it over us and told me to be quiet, that Filch was on his way. The egg had opened up and was wailing at the bottom of the stairs. Filch closed it and started to shout that this would be the last trick Peeves pulled. That stealing a champions egg was the last straw, that Dumbledore would kick him out now. Filch started to climb the stairs and I was sure he was going to hit us and we would get expelled or something.

Luckily for us, that was the moment Professor Snape showed up at the bottom of the stairs, asking what was going on. Filch said it was Peeves, that he’d thrown the egg. But Professor Snape took one look at the egg, shook his head and told Filch he would make sure that the rightful owner would get his egg back. That it probably belongs to Harry, and that Harry could collect it from his office in the morning, together with Draco. And that they can expect a nasty detention for being out of bed in the middle of the night. Draco and I both stayed quiet. We would serve detention, everything was better than having Filch drag us to his office and going to the Headmaster. The headmaster would be obligated to inform our guardians, something Snape promised not to do again, unless absolutely necessary. He still feels bad about what happened after Christmas with Draco’s dad. He walked in on us when Draco was holding one of his father's letters with tears in his eyes. I think it made an impression on Professor Snape.

We thought we were safe, and then the only person that could see us showed up. Professor Moody walked in on the scene and he looked right at me and Draco. We stared at each other for some time. I was sure he was going to give us away and get us in real trouble. But he turned back to Snape and they had words. Snape had mentioned to Filch that someone had been in his office and Filch let that slip to Moody, and then Moody and Snape had this little argument on the stairs. Moody said something about spots that don’t come off, and Professor Snape suddenly seized his left forearm convulsively with his right hand, as though something on it hand hurt him. Later that evening, when we were back in our bed, Draco told me about the Dark Mark, the sign of the Dark Lord that was tattooed on his followers left forearm. He told me his father has one, and that he knows for sure that Professor Snape also has it, that he was part of the Dark Lord’s followers. That there was no other reason he would grab for his arm like that.

This made me wonder, would Professor Snape still be one of his followers? So I asked him about it the next morning when Draco and I went to collect my egg. Professor Snape looked sad when he told us he wasn’t the smartest boy when he was younger, and that he’d made mistakes in his life he would never forgive himself for, but that I needed to worry, that he would do everything in his power to keep me safe. That didn’t stop him from still giving us detention. We had to clean cauldrons for hours on our Saturday off. Even after I told Professor Snape that we were out of bed because we needed to be to figure out the clue of the egg. Professor Snape shook his head and told us we could have worked it out during the day and that we still deserved punishment for being out of bed.

Well, at least I now know what I’m supposed to do for the second task. Not that we have any idea how I’m going to do it. But we still have a couple of weeks before the task, and Hermione and Draco are sure we will find a way for me to breath underwater.

Love you,

Harry James Potter.

[moonlightreal]

Winx Club season 8/24

In which we get to the prize in this cereal box.

24 Dyamond on Ice

At last, at last, at last!  I have waited all season!  Squeeeeeeee!  And if it weren’t for Evergleam finding me a site to watch these on, just because she wanted to do something nice for me and read my episode reactions, I wouldn’t be watching now!  Evergleam, you are the greatest!

Ah, I’m so excited!

Ok, I kind of know what’s coming, and from what I‘ve heard it sounds… it sounds dumb.  So yes I am vibrating with excitement about something I will likely snark the heck out of once I see it.  But that’s the joy of fandom too, isn’t it?

Alfea!  Wizgiz and his Scottish voice!  Pop quiz nobody was prepared for!  Tec and Musa are not prepared.  Aisha says it isn’t fair.  Stella is more concerned with sneaking carrots from Flora’s snack basket.  Oh wait, no those are Stella’s snacks, perspective made it look like they were on Flora’s desk.

The test is, “Animal metamorphosymbiosis.  All you have to do is turn into an animal of your choice!”  Wizgiz poofs into a mouse, a dachshund and a hippo.  Girls are worried, except Stella who’s chowing down on carrots.  Is this a healthy eating PSA?

Bloom goes first and successfully poofs into a kitten the same red as her hair.  Aisha becomes a butterfly, Tecna a lamb, Musa a songbird and Flora a tiger.

Everyone runs away from the tiger, even though it’s talking with Flora’s voice.

Wizgiz smells a rat.  Stella is not what she seems!  It’s Kiko!  Stella poofed Kiko into a copy of herself so she could stay home and sketch fashion, which is what she’s doing when the girls get back, each carrying a pile of heavy books.

But let’s take a minute to ponder transformations.  Those are some random animals the girls picked!  Flora’s not the tigery sort and it seems like Aisha should have been an otter.  I also wonder if she was showing off; wouldn’t insects be harder than mammals, since you have to transform more?  I wonder what was going through the writers’ heads when they chose each girl’s animal, and what was going through the girls’ heads when they chose what animal to do!  maybe all it proves is that transformation is actually not effected by your personality even though it seems like it should be!

Anyway, the girls are mad.  So is Kiko.  I wanna see the scene where Stella bribed him to do it!  Hah!  Stella isn’t actually sketching fashions, she’s getting caught up on her homework.  ‘there’s so much to study!” she’s behind.  

Tecna says that as punishment Wizgiz gave them all a lot of homework, so now they’ll have to study even more!  Hang on, that’s not fair!  The girls didn’t know Stella was cutting class, and Stella did manage a successful transformation after all!  

Stella: I wish I was somewhere far away from here!”

The star case appears!  “If that is your wish young fairy, it shall soon be granted.  What you seek is a world frozen and battered a place where an ancient bond was shattered.  This realm is called Dyamond, to be precise.  Covered with crystal and mysterious ice.  There you will find the seventh star you’ve awaited, follow the secret of a sister separated.”

Stella: “Sister? Whose sister?”

“Whoever completes this final (hollar?  Haul?) will get the stars and keep them all.”  so whoever gets this last star will get the others. That’s handy!

Stella’s still curious about the secret of sisters but Bloom says one step at a time.

Nobody mentions Daphne.  If I hadn’t been spoiled my first thought would be Bloom and Daphne, they’re the sisters separated in Winx, and on the frozen planet Domino back in season one.  Definite parallels here!

Tecna pulls up Dyamond’s stats on her phone.  “It’s a world of crystal, and the surface is covered in magical ice.”  Cool looking planet, it has a… I don’t even know how to describe it.  Floaty geometric outer shell?  You’ll have to look at a picture.

Off we go!  We have to stay ahead of the Trix!

Cut to Icy’s grumpy face.  She’s watching with Darcy and Stormy.  Icy says, “Dyamond...” in a way you could tell the voice actress was trying for emotional while still doing Icy’s voice.

The other two are ready to go, to get there first.

Icy: “No.”

D&S: “No?”

Icy; “We’re not going to Dyamond.  It’s too dangerous.”

Stormy: “But we have a mission.  The last prime star is there.”

Icy: “So we’ll let the Winx risk it all and find it.  And once they get the star we’ll take it.”

disappointed Trix. Darcy wanted a trap, Stormy was hoping for some good old fisticuffs. I love you two, don’t ever change.

Icy: ‘We’ll stay here and track their movements in the dark hologram.  That is all.”

Oh, it has a name. Heh.

Valtor floats dramatically down from the ceiling and reminds his minions of their place.  Icy actually looks scared!  Valtor asks what she’s afraid of.

Icy: ‘I’m afraid of nothing.”

Valtor orders her off to Dyamond then.  Icy clenches her fists.  Valtor makes the mark glow on the Trix’s hands and reminds them he can dump them back in limbo anytime.  Valtor’s voice actor is having so much fun.

Icy bows and says, “As you wish.”  but when the three go to fly out Icy tells her sisters to go on without her, that she’ll catch up.  Darcy and Stormy shrug and fly away.

Alone, Icy lands on the balcony of the asteroid and finally makes that thoughtful face I’ve been watching for for half the season.  She summons a sphere of glass with a lavender crystal flower in it.  Sad music plays. “Dyamond… how long… it’s not meant to be like that!  The timing’s all wrong.”  sad music and the winds of outer space blowing Icy’s hair and her cape.

Well that was sudden!  Also, “timing’s all wrong’… did Icy have a plan? Dare I get my hopes up that there will be an explanation for why all this was never hinted at for seven whole seasons plus all of this one up until right now?  

Back to Alfea!  The Winx are ready to leave, after they make sure Stella is the genuine article.  But then Sky arrives in a new ship, the “single seater Crow.”  I like the design, reminds me of a sled.  Sky is bummed that he got here just as Bloom’s off on another mission.  He has tickets for the Technomagic arena for tonight!  But his date might not be back in time.

The girls leave to save the universe.

Disappointed Sky: ‘Sorry… wait, what am I saying sorry for?  Well if there’s no other way to see you tonight, I’ll go with you!”

Dyamond from space! I like.

Winxboarding over cool waves of ice, as if a stormy ocean froze all at once.  Good music.

Tec’s still looking for information.  “Bloom, I haven’t  found much information about Dyamond, only it was once pretty populated.”

They see the remains of buildings under the ice.

Bloom: ‘It looks totally deserted now.”

Flora: “Something serious happened here.”

Stella: “Someone left the fridge open?”

Again, no mention that the same thing happened to Domino so the Three Ancestors or a similar type of being could be the cause here.

And with nothing but crystal and ice as far as the eye can see there’s no hint at where the prime star might be hiding.  The music turns sad as the girls board past broken buildings and these giant totem-pole type things.  The girls wonder what happened to the people who lived here. Long scene of destruction.

Bloom: “A deserted world… no life at all.  it’s a real mystery.”

Which gives me plotbunnies because there must be people who investigate magical disasters like this.  

Through the ice we see crystal flowers like the one Icy had growing on a tree.  More good sad music.

A sign of life!  A little creature!  Stella thinks it could be a sprite or an animal. Tecna says it means there must still be life on Dyamond.  Bloom asks Flora if she can talk to the trees.  Flora does this light-up-pink spell, and the other Winx are impressed but Flora can’t sense anything.  She says the trees are asleep.

It’s a white fox. After it!  Through very cool frozen thorn plants.  Interesting conversation, Bloom is surprised the fox is running away and Tecna agrees.  Flora wonders what the little critter must have gone through and Aisha says she wouldn’t want to stay on this planet.  

The fox makes the giant thorn bushes break apart and collapse, and the Winx have to board away or be squished.  They escape and look down to see the fox glaring at them.  

Bloom can tell something is up, but she doesn’t know what.

The Trix are here, all together again.  Darcy and Stormy are ready to find the Winx and battle.  ‘this place is so boring!  Give me something to hit with my lightning.”

I dunno, I’d think the ‘Total destruction’ aesthetic would appeal to witches!

Stormy sees the white fox and thinks it would be a good target for lightning!  She strikes a pose, ready to throw lightning when Icy ices her hand. Stormy and her suddenly heavy hand fall to the ground.

Stormy: “Icy, what’s your problem?”

Icy: “Leave that fox alone!”

Darcy and Stormy look at each other in confusion.

The fox comes up to them and Icy looks down at it with a tragic expression.

And… flashback!

Silver-haired moppet in funny shorts skipping over a pile of pink crystals towards a river and a crystal-flower tree.  Blonde girl following worriedly. They’ve found a mother fox with three cubs.  

They look royalty. they’re both wearing really pretty very detailed peacock blue clothes, the younger girl in weird short-shorts and the older in a gown.  The older girl has frizzy yellow hair tied up in an elaborate style with a bunch of braids and a many-layered bead crown.  The younger girl has masses of wavy silver hair up in a singly ponytail, and she’s wearing funny shorts with leggings underneath.  she’s much the braver of the two, clearly dragged her big sister out here.

Silver runs around with the foxes while her sister makes a crown of crystal flowers that have fallen from the tree.  They cute-hug.

Back in the present Darcy says their mission is more important than the fox.  Go find that prime star!

Back with the Winx, they’re boarding along when the star case appears then vanishes again.  Guess we must be in the right place!  The girls walk along what seems to be the traditional “narrow path along a steep cliff” which seems like exactly the place for using winxboards, but ok.  The path threatens to crumble beneath their feet.  The fox seems to be on a higher path, shadowing the Winx.  she’s also in danger of crumbling ice-path.

We get a wider view, the Winx are walking up a path around a mountain that is basically buried under a huge frozen waterfall.  We see this because it’s what the Trix see as they watch from afar.  Darcy and Stormy are again keen to fight, but Icy sees that the fox is following and tells them to wait.  Stormy calls her out again, ‘What’s wrong with you?” but Icy blusters, ‘I’ll decide when it’s time to strike!

This is feeling really tragic suddenly.  The three of them have been always together for YEARS and had so many evil adventures but they don’t trust each other at all.  Icy can’t trust her sisters not to jump all over even as small a sign of weakness as, “There’s stuff, ok?  Don’t hurt the fox.”

Winx walk along path/semi-cave.  Fox watches.

Stormy: “I’ve had enough of your floundering, Icy!”  she shoves Icy and blasts lightning at the mountain.  Icy yells, ‘No!”

Avalanche!  Winx run for it!

Icy panics. “What have you done!  what have you done!”  Stormy looks concerned suddenly, seeing Icy freaking out this much.

They see the fox crying in the midst of the avalanche.

Incoming big damn hero!  Sky lands and immediately rescues the fox.  He chatters happily about how he’ll take the fox to Bloom, ‘I’m sure you’ll like her, and you’ll have Kiko to play with.”

This is possibly the most likeable moment Sky has had all season.  I just love it.

Icy still in a panic attacks Sky.  She ices his suit wings and sends an avalanche to crush his scout ship, sending it crashing through the ice into water down below.  (And having played Subnautica Below Zero, I know all about the fish in that water!)

The Winx watch in horror and Bloom goes to help Sky, who is by now hanging off the cliff with his suit wings frozen.

Bloom: “Sky, you should not be here!”

Sky: “I agree, but can we talk about this later!”

Two likeable Sky moments!  

Icy goes in for the kill!  She sends tons of ice crashing down on Sky, sending him down to join his ship in the water.  Yikes!

Sad music again, Icy hovers holding the fox in her arms.  She flies away, leaving the confused Darcy and Stormy to follow after her.

Bloom: “Magic Winx, Sirenix!”

Oh my gosh Crystal Sirenix is beautiful.  I knew it was, I have pictures, but… it really is.  Love the crystal headdresses.  Love the way it takes from the original “gothic sirenix” design, incorporating the long skirts that eventually ended up in harmonix with the scale leggings. Everyone’s in their correct colors.  Of course Aisha’s teal and purple is my favorite but Bloom’s almost-no-pink is also looking good.  

And they comment on it!  “Our Sirenix form is different!  what happened?”  Tecna says, “It’s Crystal sirenix!  Our powers are reacting to the magical ice, to protect us.”

They immediately dive down to find Sky, and discover that they glow in the dark water! Tecna says their Crystal Sirenix “has a high degree of adaptability.”  It’ll do whatever they need, that’s cool.  But it does muddy up… well, I thought of Sirenix as being a transformation that exists for the purpose of protecting the Infinite Ocean, so how many past Sirenix fairies would have to deal with magical ice?  Maybe the adaptability wasn’t a known thing, it’s just… magic.  Since magic does everything by magic, you don’t know what else it might do.

And that’s all! Whew, what an episode!

So Icy’s backstory is… Bloom’s backstory.  Writers just went, “Well this was a hit the first time, let’s use it again!”  Or, since I want to believe the best of these writers even when they make it really hard, the writers thought it would be cool to have the main hero and main villain’s stories mirror each other.  Bloom and Icy have suffered similar things, being torn from a beloved sister and had their world frozen, then each of them went to school and ended up with close friends.  But they ended up as two very different people, which I think we can put down to Bloom being young enough that she didn’t remember Domino and then she ended up with super loving parents while Icy ended up with nobody until she got to cloud Tower and met her roommates who told her the legend of the three Ancestral witches...

[queen-of-deans-booty]

Playthings- Part 2

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Word Count: 1,716

Warnings: Typical Supernatural violence, angst, language, minor character death, blood, you know the usual

Author’s Note: I do not own anything from Supernatural. All credit goes to their respective owners. If you’re a junkie for this sort of thing, then a tag list is the right thing for you! If you want to be a Queen, I’ll add you to that list too! Any and all comments on these are appreciated.

Feedback is the glue that holds my writing together.

Tags at the bottom

Upon walking in the room, you dropped your duffel bag, dropped Dean’s, grabbed the box, took his hand, and walked over to Sam’s room. When you walked inside, Sam was already taking out papers about this place. 

“Look, I was hoping we would able to look at these videos. I know we have a case right now but I think it might ease the tension a little bit, you know?” You said with a smile, setting the box down on the table where Sam was working. 

“Not right now, Y/N, we have work to do.” Sam said, not looking at you. 

“Come on, Sam, just for a few minutes and then we can stick our noses back in this case.” You said but you were cut off by Sam. 

“Y/N, look, people are dying and we can’t afford to sit around looking at some home movies.” Sam said, looking up at you. You swallowed thickly and nodded. 

“Maybe another time, then.” You whispered, taking the box in your arms and walking out of his room. You knew he was upset but you didn’t expect this from Sam at all. You walked into your room and looked down, trying not to get emotional over something like this. 

The walls were thin so you heard Dean arguing with Sam over what just happened. You sighed when you heard the door open to your room. 

“Look, you know he’s under a lot of stress right now.” Dean said, putting his hands on your waist. 

“I know,” You whispered. “I just thought it would be nice to take out mind off things. I mean, your mom is in these videos. I just thought that maybe he might want to watch them.” 

“We will watch them. Let’s just get through a few days here and then we will see how Sam is doing, okay? If not Sam, then I will definitely watch them.” Dean said, pressing his lips to your cheek. You turned around in his arms and you got on your toes, pressing your lips to his. 

He tightened his grip on your waist and brought you closer, kissing you deeper. You moaned in the kiss, trying to get closer to him. Your arms waved around his neck, your fingers playing with the short hairs but his neck. 

Your mouth opened to invite his tongue in but before he could touch yours, there was a knock on the wall no doubt by Sam. 

“Come in here, guys.” You heard Sam say, his voice muffled. 

“Damn it. We will continue this tonight.” Dean muttered, pulling away a little. 

“I meant what I said earlier. I think purple would look great on me, no?” You smirked, turning swiftly and walking out of the room but not before you heard the strangled groan come from Dean. You giggled to yourself as you walked into Sam’s room. 

“Look, I’m sorry about earlier. I just can’t be distracted right now.” Sam said, looking at you. 

“I know. What have you got?” You asked, changing the subject really quickly. Dean walked back into the room and shut the door, going to your side. 

“We have two victims here one being Joan Edison who was forty-three and a realtor who was handling the sale of the hotel. The other one being Larry Williams who was moving some things out to Goodwill.” Sam said, looking at the papers. 

“Well, there’s a connection between the two. I mean, they both had something to do with shutting this place down.” You said, looking at Dean who nodded. 

“Yeah, maybe somebody here doesn't want to leave, and they're using hoodoo to fight back.” Sam suggested, thinking. 

“So, who do you think the witch doctor is?” Dean asked, leaning against the wall, putting an arm around your shoulder.

“No, she’s the one selling.” You said. 

“So, who, then? Sherwin?” Dean named another suspect. 

“I have no idea. Maybe we should poke around and see what we can find out.” You said. 

“Great idea.” Sam said with a tight smile, getting up from the table. You took the lead, walking down the hallway what your rooms were on. You looked at the pictures on the wall and as strange as they were to look at, you didn’t think they weren’t worth anything. 

“Hey, check this out, more hoodoo.” Sam said, stopping to look at an urn in the hallway. You saw that this urn had the same exact markings as the one outside. You walked away from the men and looked at a couple of closed doors. One of them was marked ‘Private’. 

“Hey, check this out,” You said. Sam and Dean walked to you and stared at the door with you. “I’m hoping whatever is behind here tells us a lot about what is going wrong.”

“One way to find out.” Dean said, knocking on the door. The door opened immediately by Susan who looked a little frazzled.

“Hi. Everything okay with your room?” She asked. 

“Yeah, everything is perfect, thank you.” You said politely. 

“Well, if you don’t mind, I was in the middle of packing.” She said with a smile. She opened the door a little wider and you saw the room covered with antique dolls. 

“Hey,” Dean said, looking past her, trying to think of a way to get into the room.

“Are those antique dolls? Because this one, he's got a major doll collection back home. Right, Sam? Huh?” 

You smirked as Sam shot Dean a bitch face. Instead of going for the girl in the group, he had to target Sam. You had to pick your own fun when hunting. You rarely got it and this is how you had fun. 

“Big time.” Sam said, taking one for the team. 

“Right, do you think we can come in a take a look around?” Dean asked with a charming smile. 

“I don’t know…” Susan said, unsure of herself. 

“Please? I mean, he loves them. He's not gonna tell you this, but he's always dressing them up in these little tiny outfits and, um, you'd make his day. She would, right Sam?” Dean said, getting a kick out of embarrassing his brother. You snickered and put your head on Sam’s arm to stifle it but he shoved you off. 

“Yes, very true.” Sam said, looking as if he was going to kill someone. 

“Okay, sure, come on in.” Susan said, walking further in the room. Dean smirked as he walked in first and you laughed a little louder, looking up at Sam. 

“Oh, come on, Sam, it’s funny. You playing with dolls.” You said with a wide smile. 

“Shut up.” Sam said, walking inside. You giggled and followed him, looking around the dim room. 

“Wow, this is a lot of dolls. I mean, they're nice, you know. Not super creepy at all.”  Dean said, looking around the room. 

“Yeah, I suppose they are a little creepy. But they've been in the family forever. A lot of sentimental value.” Susan said with a smile. You looked around the room and noticed an exact replica of the hotel but as a doll house. 

“Wow, is this the hotel?” You asked, pointing to the house. 

“Yes, ma’am, exact replica.” You frowned and bent down when you noticed a broken doll. Your eyes widened when you saw its head had been twisted all the way around, much like how a man here, died.

“His head got twisted around. What happened to it?” You asked, looking at Susan. 

“Tyler, probably.” Susan said, putting the blame on her daughter. Speaking of, Tyler came rushing into the room with a pout on her face. 

“Mommy! Maggie’s being mean!” 

“Tell her I said to play nice.” Susan said. You frowned, noticing the way she said that sentence. It was like she was sick and tired of Tyler playing games but at this point, she is just going to go along with it. 

“Hey Tyler, I see you broke your doll. You want me to fix it?” Sam said, taking the doll from you. 

“I didn’t break it, I found it like that.” She said.

“Oh, well, maybe Maggie did it then?” Sam asked the child. 

“No, neither of us did, Grandma would be mad if we broke her dolls.” 

“Tyler, honey, grandma wouldn’t be mad.” Susan said with a sigh. 

“Grandma?” You asked, looking at Susan. 

“Grandma Rose. These were all her toys.” 

“Oh, huh, where is she now?” Dean asked. 

“She’s up her room.” Tyler answered for Susan. 

“Do you think we can speak with her? I mean, she has an incredible doll collection.” Dean said but he got cut off by Susan. 

“No,” She said suddenly. You were suspicious at how quickly she answered that. “I mean, I'm afraid that's impossible. My mother's been very sick and she's not taking any visitors.” 

“Right, well, thank you so much for showing us this room but I think we should be going.” You said, looking at Sam and Dean who nodded. 

“You’re welcome.” Susan said, Tyler moving out of the way so you could exit. You walked into the hallway and looked at the brothers, biting your lip. 

“Okay, that wasn’t suspicious at all. Did you hear the way Susan talked about Maggie? It’s not like how you would talk about your kid, I’ll tell you that.” You said in a hushed voice. 

“So, what do you think about the dolls and the hoodoo? You think this mysterious shut-in grandma could be doing it?” Dean asked, walking back to the room. 

“I have no idea but dolls are used in all kinds of voodoo and hoodoo like curses and binding spells.” Sam said. 

“Then I think we might have found our witch doctor. Y/N and I will see what we can dig up on Grandma and you go online to check obits, freak accidents and anything else that might give away that she killed anyone else.” Dean instructed. 

“Fine.” Sam said, opening his door. 

“Don’t go surfing porn, dude, I mean it.” Dean teased as Sam slammed the door in his face. 

“Well, let’s go, sweetheart.” Dean said, walking down the hall. You had a different idea. Ever since he mentioned that he loved Daphne, you have been wanting to fuck him. Now, here is your chance.

The Queens:

@maddieburcham1  @ginamsmith @mogaruke @whit85-blog @inlovewithbja @spn67-sister @kdfrqqg @jarpadandjensenaremyheroes @roxyspearing @supercalifragilistic26 @mishamigose @cobrakai1967 @essie1876 @wishedworld @crispychrissy @laqueus-ludovicus @nostalgic-uncertainty @jerk-bitch-and-an-angel @potterhead1265 @starswirlblitz @untitled39887 @ta-n-ja @deans-fallen-angel-boy @scarletluvscas @notnaturalanahi @tahbehonest @stay-in--place @dreaminofdean @posiemax @donnaintx @mikey1822 @alexandriajanae4 @li-ssu @just-another-winchester @obsessivecompulsivespn @emoryhemsworth @newtospnfandom @mizzezm @goldenolaf25

The Dean Beans:

@akshi8278 @mega-mrs-dean-winchester @winchesterandpie @spn-dean-and-sam-winchester @carribear31 @tacklesackles @oreosatmidnight @not-naturalfangirl @missselinakitty @iam-a-cutiepie @kristendansmith @milo-winchester-4ever @jensenackesl @codyshany316 @pheonyxstorm @helllonearth @juniorhuntersam

Series Rewrite Junkies:

@helllonearth @amyisabellal @deanwnchstr @caseykitten6 @roxalya19 @quixoticcat @supernaturalblogging @notmoose45 @crowleysminion @mina22 @tahbehonest @hadleymcallister2177 @destielsangels @spnhybrid @oreosatmidnight @valerieshubin @seninjakitey @flyonlittlewinchester 

[bloodinhershoesrpg]

WHEN THE CURTAIN DROPS…

Think of yourself back on the day, try to see what has turned you into what you have become. Distant seem the days of lace on lilac cotton dresses and golden locks of hair, those that used to be as soft as your now bruised heart. Your life was not at all bad, in fact, those days were filled with dream-like sequences of the upper class in the East Hamptons; untouchable and spotless inside mansions ever so similar to overpriced dollhouses. Reveries would come and in the same way, they would go, as your hero turned flesh — your best friend, your secret keeper, your backbone — would pull yet another card from under his sleeve asking you teasingly if it happened to be your card. Infantile giggles grow distant inside your mind, pushed into its darkest corner as you pull your own sleeve down in nervousness; how sad it happens to be there are no aces up of it, just cracks you struggle to hide. It hurt you to think of your childhood only because it lasted so little, parties and games to be replaced by a mother who had more than wine mom issues, and a father that would soon drop his role of Jeu de Cartes’ joker, to turn into an enraged beast. Ballet was always a great part of your life, the melodious arrangements you now dance to used to be your lullabies, now the ghostly charm they hold hurts almost as much as what you had to witness -- turns out all the screaming and all the circling drains of reproaches and apologies would begin to make you numb, until you found yourself at the most perfect point to escape, only to realize there was little left for you to feel. If anything.

…YOU SHOW YOUR TRUE COLOURS

Flash forward eight years with a ballet career to your name and an estranged older brother, your walls are painted dark instead of baby blue, and the music box you packed by mistake has gotten broken now fulfilling the somewhat comical function of an ashtray. The honour was yours to play Odette just a year before, a vision as delicate and pearlescent it was hard for others to believe who you were once the curtain had dropped. Here your reputation is sought after while your life in America could not have been any less lugubrious; anyhow, how many ballerinas around you can brag of nearly stabbing their father to death? Oh, of course, that is something you would rather not to discuss, no matter how nitid it stays in your mind — the gruesome red adorning your tennis skirt when you whipped your hands, makeup smeared all over your face as you answered repetitive questions with your feet hastily hanging out of a parked ambulance. Your hair was so long it covered your face as you looked down in shame, perhaps confusion, momentarily dragging you away from the scene just to think you should probably cut it soon. Crows would circle your once beloved dollhouse, happy to pluck portions of you right out the moment you got carried away just to write a motive: Self-Defense, on the dotted line. It was easy to assume and easy to judge when it had not been them the ones whose lives were short of any sort of peace, when it had not been them whose money would cover the mouth of many; house staff, tutors, nannies, just to keep the dirty secret under lock. What scares you the most, however, is not what you did but to find yourself thinking you should have done it better.

VICTIM OR CULPRIT?

You don’t find it a bit funny to have a Shakespearean name, as Desdemona James happens to be, so just Mona gladly suffices the name tag ordeal; whoever chooses to call you differently is often glared at. At age twenty-four there is plenty you are still capable of offering, the latest of your dancing roles being Little Red Riding Hood, because if there is something you happen to enjoy is giving fairytale characters your own little touch of morbidity. Some may say that, under layers of dark eye makeup, you could pass as the twin of Brie Larson. Otherwise, you remind them more of an insomnious Hugh Jackman.

IN RELATION TO

RHIANNON CONNORS: The perfect mess found her perfect roommate, never minding which of you two is each, Rhiannon Connors could not be any more fitting in terms of coexistence. There are little people you actually let in, the taste of guilt crosses you every time you refuse to speak of your past in front of her, for trust is something you two claim to share. Perhaps is suspicious for none to say a word about the lack of family pictures hung on the walls of your foyer, leaving so much room for interpretation it could easily get dangerous. Little does she know, but the kind of talent she has at almost a blatant display often makes you insecure about your own, at the end of the day your part is more of a “guest star” with little consistency while hers is well-versed into the production. ENLAI ZHANG: It’s easy for you to get vexed if those around you talk too much, as it is when they speak too little. For someone who has worked with Cristina and Katerina for years -- in the name of all things holy, with Theodore, for instance -- it definitely puzzles you to have Enlai as the silent one in the corps. Well, unless you happened to be around, the friction between the two of you never reached hostile lands, yet it does not mean you’re necessarily amiable, either. If Alice in Wonderland took place within the walls of the opera so many would play no roles but the queen’s hollow-headed court, the queen being Daphne in the flesh, giving him the role of no less than the visibly scarred, haunted and scattered Mister Mad Hatter. ALIONA CHERNOVA: Not like you would get easily attached, in spite of having done so countless times before, but there are pretty good chances you would miss those smoke breaks by the side of Russian dancer Aliona. The two of you make quite a grim little team, silently judging everyone from the choreographer to the subscribers, increasing the pollution of whichever place you are in. There is a touch of royalty in her, as her mannerisms are hard to ignore, so very distant from your bluntness. Anyhow, many bring to your attention not just your similar characters but your rhyming names — it seems like it’s a bit too late for you two to claim the roles of Tweedle Dee and Tweedle Dum.

WHAT YOU SHOULD KNOW

Chances of Survival: Average Applicant must be open to portraying dissociation, domestic abuse Faceclaim is slightly negotiable (suggested alternative: Halston Sage)

Starring: Maggie as Desdemona James

TW: child abuse, violence

Lullabies, love, the smell of lavender. These are things Mona thinks good childhoods are made of. There was a little period of her own that felt like that. Her big brother, Damen, made her early years joyous. He’d play hide and seek with her, cover her ears when their parents, Ariadne and Bill, were fighting. Cover her eyes if they couldn’t escape the room in time. Nothing hurt so bad to see when she knew her big brother was there to protect her. Time goes on and children grow into targets. Hand shaped bruises were for mother to hide, not children. Not for awhile. But things can only get worse when you live with a forest fire for a father and a bundle of twigs for a mother. Mona had two escapes: time with Damen and ballet.

Just because things were often tense at home doesn’t mean Mommy and Daddy didn’t want the best for their children. Damen was put in only the finest music programs to cultivate his gift for piano, and in turn, Mona was placed in the most prestigious of ballet schools in the area. Time together between siblings was often spent dancing and playing the keys together. Damen would try to get Mona’s little hands to reach all the keys for a chord and Mona would try to teach Damen to plié. They brought comfort to each other in times of trouble - and it seemed as though times were often of trouble.

Damen, being five years Mona’s senior, began to get out of the house as a teenager, leaving Mona to herself. With Damen around less, more attention was directed at Mona at home - and attention she did not want. Her father was hateful, possessive, and often showed Mona that she belonged to no one but him.  She made friends here and there in school, but eventually became withdrawn. She used to confide in friends at sleepover what kind of a maniac her father could be, what kind of blithering and oblivious drunk her mother was. Some friends even told their own parents out of concern. Nothing ever came of it. If there was one thing you could say about the rich, it’s that “family affairs” were kept within the family. And what good were friends when they added no chances for survival? As Mona grew up, watching her brother moreso from a distance, she threw herself deeper into ballet. Damen was no longer a confidant and a protector, but rather a warm memory and occasional reprieve. Friendships were replaced with alliances. “If we push each other, one of us might get the part.” She would go straight to ballet practice after school, complete her homework there, and not come home until she was certain that dinner was ready. Then, she’d try her best to go unnoticed until bed time. Sometimes Bill was occupied with other things, and other times he was firmly focused on making Mona’s life hell.

Life, while often hard, was not as bad as it could have been. That’s what Mona always reminded herself of. She had food, clothes, a brother who loved her even if her parents didn’t seem to, and most importantly, a passion.

Things changed in the time it takes to pick up a knife.

It was Christmas time. Damen was home for the holidays. Mona’s mother was somewhere in the house, sloshing around and weeping over one thing or another, as usual. Mona, for once, had gone out to socialize. A tiny crush on a peer from her ballet class had inspired her to go to a party out on a yacht. Yes, Mona came home late. No, she hadn’t been drinking. She reeked of other people’s cigarettes, and someone had spilled a glass of very expensive champagne all over her beautiful new tennis skirt. No parent would have believed she hadn’t been up to no good. Not many parents would react in the way that Bill James did, though. He tried to corner Mona, screaming accusations about her behavior and her virtue. Years of practice allowed for her to escape from him several times. She ran into the kitchen, simply because it was the closest room connected to the hall that led to her bedroom. But fingers ripping into her scalp, that familiar pull as she was yanked back and off her feet stopped her short. There was a struggle. A counter’s corner dug deep into her gut and a blade glimmered before her in the dim light from the moon in the window. It didn’t take a thought. Mona remembers the pain in her gut from the counter - then the look of horror on Damen’s face and his mouth moving around the words, “What have you done?”

Ambulances, police vehicles, handcuffs. It’s all a blur, especially after eight years. Mona doesn’t talk about it. What is there to say? Bill wasn’t even out of the hospital before Mona had spent all of her money from birthdays and christmases to find a home out of the country. They decided not to press charges, brush this under the rug just like every other painful and violent event that had happened in that house. The James family has enough money to pay off any and every individual who knows how or why Desdemona James stabbed her own father that night.

At sixteen years old, she left her parents behind in America as soon as she could, and with them, Damen. It was painful, but the rift that grew between them after that night was worse than the pain of leaving. He never understood her decision, because he had never seen the way their father had turned on her as they grew older. At least Mona can blame the physical distance between them for their estranged existences.

Now, in another country, Mona’s life is all too similar to those days she spent alone with her ballet. Only now, without the attacks from her father and with the sting of repressed memories and a bitterness over the childhood she wishes she’d had. Performance is still Mona’s strongest skill. One hones these abilities when living a life full of deep, dark secrets. Ballet keeps Mona busy and satisfied enough. Still, the weight of Mona’s past bears heavily on her shoulders. Regret colors her thoughts, only in ways that she can never admit. It’s one thing to regret stabbing your father - but it’s another entirely when your only wish is that you’d managed to kill him.

[asriels]

Okay. Now that I know your in the fandom I need sow of your next gen headcanons (sorry I'm just obsessed with your headcanons. I am also here for Slytherin!Lily!)

I have a large collection of Next Gen headcanons, carefullycurated over the years I’ve been in this fandom. They go on for days so I’mreally sorry. I almost entirely reject CursedChild, just so you know (the only bit I like is the rumours that Scorpiusis Voldemort’s kid, because that makes Astoria fascinating).

As a whole, the kids are more disparate than people thoughtthey would be. Few of them count their closest friends within the family, mostmake their best friends outside of it. The exceptions to this rule are:Dominique, Molly and Teddy; Fred and Lucy. They all love each other and arefirst in line to defend each other, obviously, and will usually hang out andhave a smashing time, but when it comes to who they gravitate towards they’reusually found outside the family.

Other Weasley family things as a whole: divorce rates seethe same rise in the wizarding world as in the Muggle one. George and Angelinaamicably call it quits when Fred is seven and Roxanne is three. Ron andHermione separate for a good few years after Rose is born but end up backtogether, and Hugo follows. (Unknowingly these two have a half-sister: Ron’sdaughter with Daphne Greengrass, product of an ill-judged fling, who iseighteen months younger than Rose.)

Molly and Lucy lose their mother Audrey when Molly isthirteen and Lucy is ten. To almost everybody’s surprise, Percy does anexcellent job raising them alone. They’re still mad as a bag of cats butthen—they’re Weasleys.

I could bang on about inter-family dynamics forever but I’llgo on to the individual kids now.

Teddy—Hufflepuff. Really tall (like 6′3″) and has got a real Black family look to him, which he hates. I’m writing a Teddy fic at the moment that has turned into a sprawling monsterand contains most of my Teddy headcanons. In short: bit of a loser, butcharming and hapless so makes friends wherever he goes. Directionless. Happy tolive off the money his parents left him and the benefits he gets from theMinistry as a war orphan. He’s a fine artist, but he never puts the effort intoactually getting his name and work out there. He’s best friends with Dominique(two years younger than him) and Molly (four years younger than him). They windeach other up a lot but ultimately adore one another. He has a finely honedsense of the ridiculous and a hugely empathetic nature, which he mostly triesto keep hidden. He’ll be fine, in the end.

Victoire—Ravenclaw.A hugely difficult act to follow for most of her cousins. Beautiful, caring, atalented witch—but also bullish, one-track-minded, with a tendency to set asidethe feelings and concerns of others if she gets fixated on a goal. Mostly thisgets called ‘ambition’ and praised, but her sister thinks of it more asselfishness. She has huge aspirations for her life and damn if she doesn’t getthere. Of course, being Victoire, she does it despite getting accidentallypregnant much earlier than she wanted to, and ends up with a similarly brilliantson as well as the career she wanted. Nobody can quite figure out how she’sdone it.

Dominique—Gryffindor.Dominique is pure fire. She’s quite aggressive, but her temper burns itself outquickly and she forgives as hastily as she runs to fury. Her affection is hardto win but once you’ve done it her loyalty is unyielding. She’s prickly,brusque, funny, and has a kinder heart than you would believe underneath itall. Not much patience, but lots and lots of laughter.

Louis—Gryffindor.So laid back he’s horizontal. He has a grand total of two interests in theworld: computers and celebrity gossip. He’s beautiful in a way that makespeople stumble over their words around him which he actually doesn’t much likeso he tries to dress it down. He wears oversized 80s glasses and his hair long,like his dad used to. He floats through life seeming almost untouchable untilhe gets into a very messy drama concerning Lily at 19 and he ends up a lot morephilosophical and altruistic.

Molly—Gryffindor.Known as ‘Young Molly’ to differentiate her from her grandmother within thefamily, but it kind of spreads until everybody calls her that. Hapless. Honestlythe character I think she’s most like is Isla Fisher’s character inBachelorette but without the hard drugs (not that she’s never done that, but it’snot like—a regular thing). She seems kind of oblivious a lot of the time. She’ssoft and easily hurt, and inspires protectiveness/caring instinct in others.Honestly she could take care of herself if she had to but she’s always hadDominique and/or Teddy and Lucy looking out for her so she’s never had to try.

Lucy—Ravenclaw.Conspiracy nut. She’s absolutely convinced the Founders weren’t real and arejust a convenient story made up later in Hogwarts’ history. She’s very bold andserious and intense, and jokes tend to go over her head quite a lot. She’s alsoabsolutely fascinated by space (mostly because of aliens and alienconspiracies) and ends up going to Muggle university to study Astrophysics. She’skind of off-the-wall, but once you get to know her you can’t help liking herbecause she’s so unapologetic about who she is.

Fred—Gryffindor.Pretty much the opposite of the uncle he was named for except for his lovelymerry sense of humour and his resolute bravery. He’s Prefect and then Head Boy,the one everybody knows they can go to with their problems for his ability tolisten, offer sensible advice, and then make you laugh. He’s calm, solid,unyielding. 90% of the girls in younger years (and a few of the boys) arecompletely in love with him. He’s the friendly face of the Weasley family. Therest tend to be a zany, prickly bunch—but Fred is pure warmth, and he’s open togetting to know anybody.

Roxanne—Hufflepuff.During her teenage years she’s pretty EdgyTM and gets into a lot ofindie Muggle bands and spends a lot of time yelling at people about theenvironment and the bees. She’s a bit of an inventing whizz and has inheritedher paternal grandfather’s fascination with Muggle technology, and spends a lotof her free time tinkering with Muggle things like iPods to make them work withmagic. Roxanne’s main problem is that she cares far too much, so much it hurtsher, and she has to focus on something to give her an outlet for all thatcompassion. Her cousins know that she’s not going to be first in line to seekthem out, but if somebody’s hurting them she will be the first one into the ensuingfistfight.

Rose—Gryffindor.Nobody quite expected Rose to turn out the way she did. She has her father’shapless charm and tendency to put his foot in his mouth, but this is pairedwith her mother’s ruthless pragmatism. She believes very strongly in thingsbeing Sensible and Explicable, and fights a lot with both Lucy (who she feelsis wasting everybody’s time) and Lily (who will espouse inexplicable thingsjust to frustrate her). Rose faces a deep conflict inside herself, one thatmakes her quite a reflective and irritable person: she has the gift of Sight,but has absorbed her mother’s derisive attitude towards Seers. She tries toignore her visions, but they will not leave her alone.

Hugo—Ravenclaw.Hugo just wants to be left alone. He’s quiet, frightening clever, and with amind for strategy that you wouldn’t believe. Really, he belongs in somesweeping epic high fantasy where he could lead people and fight battles andprove himself. Instead he’s stuck in a life where he’s overshadowed by hislouder family members. He retreats into books and music, and ultimatelyretreats from the wizarding world altogether. He gets a flat with three Muggleguys, all into music, and they end up forming a band that becomes world famous.Hugo turns his intelligence to songwriting and strikes a chord with the publicthat nobody would have believed possible.

James—Gryffindor.James thinks he is a Bad Boy, and by virtue of getting tattoos, smoking,partying, and wearing a leather jacket everywhere has mostly managed toconvince everybody else he really is Bad. His family see right through him. Hepretends not to care about anything but he has internalised a huge amount offrustration and an inferiority complex about his father’s legacy which makeshim prone to acts of aggression. He will act out simply to prove he is not hisfather. The only people that can calm him are his younger siblings and, later,the person he will eventually marry. James mellowed out is a much nicer person,but it takes him a while to get there.

Albus—Gryffindor.Albus has the same inferiority complex about his dad as James, but his goesdeeper because he asked the Sorting Hat to put him in Gryffindor, and spendsthe next couple of decades wondering where he’d be if he hadn’t. He doesn’tfeel he deserves to be Harry Potter’s son. Inside he is the angriest andscariest of all the Potter siblings, but he has covered this up with suchlayers of cool that most people overlook his quiet fury in favour of hissiblings’ volatile attitudes to everything. He is cutting and snide, ready toback up his taunts with fists/hexes if he needs to, and generally is cut of asharper cloth than most people in his family. Lily and James have softer heartsinside than anybody realises. Albus is the opposite.

Lily—Slytherin. Lilyis my favourite next gen character and also the one I struggle to get a grip onmost. She’s prickly and resentful, prone to lashing out, and wants to punishthe world for heaping all this expectation on her as the daughter of HarryPotter. Mostly this results in her damaging herself more than anybody else. She’sa party animal from the age of fourteen, into alcohol and drugs, anddeliberately gets pregnant at 15 in a skewed attempt to punish her parents.Actually being pregnant makes her stop and re-evaluate, however. Her attitudedoesn’t change massively, but she does take steps to dealing with her anger.She reconnects with Teddy over the whole issue and he encourages her to talk tosomebody. She’ll never be okay, exactly, but she refocuses her intense emotionsinto other pursuits instead of on herself and her parents. She gets taken outof Hogwarts to be homeschooled between the ages of fourteen and sixteen, andreturns a more together and confident person. She still goes hard as fuck, but it comes from a desire to havefun rather than a deep insecurity.

Scorpius—Gryffindor.Kind of an asshole, which is why he gets on so well with Albus, but he’sinherited from his mother a sense of the ridiculous that makes him great fun.He can find the funny side in almost anything. He went into Gryffindor mostlybecause he thought it would be hilarious and piss off his dad, who he feels treatshis mum badly. He’s prone to do anything he thinks will get a rise out ofpeople, which makes him a menace if you’re the subject of his needling buthilarious if you’re not.

Lysander and Lorcanare much younger than the rest of the Potter-Weasley kids and don’t mix muchwith them as a result. They’re brought up travelling the world and studyingmagical creatures, and have an incredibly piecemeal education up until they goto Hogwarts as a result. Their basic understanding of the world is almostnon-existent (neither of them can do much more mathematics than basic additionand subtraction, cannot conceptualise the solar system, and wouldn’t believeyou if you told them humans have been to the Moon), but they each speak severallanguages, have exceptional control of their wandless magic, and an encyclopaedicknowledge of magical creatures. Their relationship with each other is almostsymbiotic, and being separated at Hogwarts is highly traumatic for both ofthem. When they are seventeen they witness their father being brutally killedby a rogue magical creature, and end up putting their abilities to use huntingdown and containing any magical creature known to pose a threat to human life.

Lysander—Gryffindor.Taciturn and prone to moodiness. Braver than you would believe. Relies onlyupon himself and his brother (as a result of distracted, occasionallyneglectful but loving parents) and is never willing to allow anybody else intohis business. His control of wandless magic is unmatched in the last twocenturies, and a couple of his teachers keep a careful eye on him as he fitsthe profile of somebody who could end up turning very dark and being immenselydestructive. Lysander would never even dream it, though. He’s selfish,introverted and a loner but his intentions are wholly good and he couldn’t turndark if he tried.

Lorcan—Ravenclaw.Lorcan is almost painfully shy and struggles with great social anxiety. Despitethis, he makes some friends in his house and, though he still depends onLysander, can function apart from him. He’s incredibly clever and can retaininformation so well it’s almost unbelievable. He’s never the first to speak upin class but—depending on the subject—he almost always has the right answerwhen called upon. His grades are fairly poor despite this. His knowledge andpractical ability is enormous, but his essays and exam answers are rambling andirrelevant, veering off down pathways that interest him but that have no basisin the question asked.

Okay and because this is long already I might as well makeit longer, right? So here are my thoughts about other non-canon kids and justquick sketches of them.

Leonora Greengrass—Slytherin.Known as Lo. Ron’s daughter with Daphne. She has a terrible relationship withher mother as both are selfish and fickle, and is the sort of person for whom everythingis someone else’s fault. She doesn’t know who her dad is until she’s eighteen,since Daphne has kept her concealed from Ron, and when she finds out she blameshim for not being part of her life and sets out to try to destroy him. She endsup getting along very well with him and they become incredibly positiveinfluences on one another. Ron feels he can be there for her in a way he thinkshe couldn’t be for his own kids, and she thrives with a positive male rolemodel in her life.

Longbottom kids—Daisy(Hufflepuff), Poppy (Gryffindor) and Euan (Slytherin). Daisy is adorable inevery way, very maternal and giving. Poppy is sociable, out-going and a massivedrama queen. Florian is good friends with Lily Potter—sarcastic, unnecessarilyrude, and generally a much more unpleasant person than you’d think it waspossible for Neville and Hannah to produce.

Astynome Nott—Slytherin.James’ best friend. Known as Asta. Terrifying, irrepressible, takes noprisoners and no bullshit. Frightens most of James’ family apart from Lily andAlbus, who think she’s awesome.

Eirnin McLaggen—Hufflepuff.Possibly the purest soul on the planet. James’ future husband. Introverted,soft-spoken, deeply kind and patient. Finds it easier spending time withanimals than with people. Struggles deeply with the division between hisCatholic faith and his magic and his sexuality.

McLaggen kids—apartfrom Eirnin we have Eithne (Hufflepuff, dates Teddy for a while, very merry andgiving), Faolan (Gryffindor, James’ arch-nemesis, braggart and brawler), thentwo much younger sisters I haven’t fully developed yet. They grow up in thewizarding village of Tullyaghan, Co Fermanagh, Northern Ireland, on the landwhere their father breeds and trains Kelpies for a dangerous wizarding versionof polo. They are all fearless, rough-and-ready, and incredibly proud of anancestry that has fought the English at every turn.

Lily’s best friends—allSlytherin. Yelena Nott (Asta’s younger sister, the leader of the crew. Type Aice queen with a ruthless competent streak and absolutely no patience foranything), Ophelia Yaxley (sweet and easily-led, attaches herself to thenearest mean girl like silly string, helplessly in love with Albus Potter andconstantly messed around by him), Sophie Parkinson (unafraid, irresponsible,loves to party more than anybody else), and Beth Zabini (she and Lily actuallykind of hate each other, but they’re still…best friends….nobody else gets iteither).

Okay I’m done, Ipromise. I promise. Sorry about this.