#honestly overpowered Harry

[inkyarcturus]

Harry Potter being described as an uncontrollable force of nature needs to be talked about more. It is my favorite fanfiction trope of all time. It has me giggling and kicking my feet!!!

Like yes, that man is thunder, a tornado, a tsunami, a earthquake, a wild fire, a hurricane, a snow storm, he is everything and anything all at once.

He is the act of creation and the master of death. He is magic in every sense of the word, just god. I love those types of fics.

[headroom-moods]

ok so I've seen quite a handful of nbc hannibal fans say that the og red dragon book is not that interesting just because there's not enough "dialogue" or content between hannibal and will and this shit fucking INFURIATES me like no other. As much as I am a HUGE hannigram enthusiast, I still think that these kinds of comments are fucking insane honestly, (especially coming from fannibals!) because it's originally written as a crime/procedural novel and NOT as an in-depth analysis novel about Hannibal and Will's dynamic (as goes for the rest of the Thomas Harris novels).

Though there are still underlying "hannigram" implications in the book just from their dialogues together, it really just only shows how much more depth can be gotten out from their relationship, which is clearly grown to its fullest potential in the nbc series. But it still doesn't guarantee that the source content would be exactly parallel to what was inspired by it, and if you didn't like the book just because of the “lack” of hannigram content then I suggest you to go read fanfics instead because the original Red Dragon book is of more worth than your fandom mindset or whatever LMFAO.

Obviously it is not gonna be like the series because just to be frank, the show is just basically fanfic made canon (in the absolute best way possible) LMAO and it is basically written out as a hybrid version of their original Red Dragon dynamic and Clarice and Hannibal's relationship in TSOTL and Hannibal (the book). But saying that the original source material is dull or bland just because you watched the series first just means that you didn't completely understand how the show came to be and the complexity with hannibal and will's relationship.

So to all the nbc hannibal fans out there who are planning to read the red dragon book and the Thomas Harris novels, don't expect their relationship in it to be exactly explicit just like how the show portrays and just because it isn't, doesn't mean that the book is "uninteresting" or "dull". It just means that you're a rigid reader and you didn't get the entire point of the novel and the basic foundation to the series you know and love. Thank you for listening.

[stagserphent]

I think Draco Malfoy is far too often portrayed as a really powerful and suave and elegant person…… but in canon he’s like- a total loser and coward?? He’s like really lame and that’s the best part…. WHERE is loser Draco Malfoy rep? Loser who has mediocre magic skills pines after the incredible powerful hero guy- I know that they’re “rivals” or whatever but it’s honestly kind of…. All made up? Harry overpowers him any day in magic power and we should lean into that.

[1d1195]

Love and Dryer Sheets - Extra I

Read Love and Dryer Sheets here | ~1.5k words

Warnings: none; fluff (maybe a tiny bit of angst but nothing major)

Summary: Harry and Miss Sunshine are picking Niall up from the airport and Harry is freaking out.

Harry thought there was nothing cuter than how bubbly she was at the airport. The way she was practically bouncing with excitement to see her best friend. Of course, Harry had met Niall the one time back in the laundry room and spoken with him several times over the last several months while she was present.

But as excited as she was, Harry was nervous.

While he thought Niall was somewhat over Harry’s unfortunate first kiss with her, he wasn’t convinced that he had fully forgiven Harry. Honestly, he couldn’t blame him. After all she had been through between her family and her ex, Harry felt just as protective of her heart. It was a tricky start to their relationship, and he was forever grateful to her for being so forgiving.

Harry wasn’t happy. Then he met her, and he was.

It was simple and complicated, and he wasn’t sure he could ever explain it fully to someone who wasn’t her as they would never experience it firsthand. “You’re going to squeeze my fingers clean off, Munchkin,” she gave his hand a gentle squeeze as they waited patiently by baggage claim for Niall to arrive.

Harry dropped the pressure but didn’t let go. He was surprised he could muster enough of a hold on it without it slipping right out. He was so nervous his hand was slick with sweat in hers. “Sorry, Sunshine,” he murmured.

“Are you nervous?” She asked blinking up at him. Those pretty eyes analyzing him immediately. “It’s just Niall.”

“I don’t think Niall has fully forgiven me,” he muttered.

She rolled her eyes. “That’s ridiculous. There’s nothing to forgive. It hurt at the time, but it’s over and it’s better,” she squeezed his hand comfortingly. The bustle of people greeting loved ones overpowered most of Harry’s thoughts, but his conscience was happy to remind him that he was the worst.

Maybe Niall will kill you. Harry swore his conscience was actually an entirely separate entity of his mind and was looking forward to Harry’s demise.

His heart didn’t have a response that had anything to do with Niall. Can you be quiet? She’s holding our hand!

Harry wrapped his arm around her and brought her closer to his side so he could kiss the top of her head. “It is better, hmm?” he hummed.

She smiled. The voice of her heart was practically asleep, warmth surrounding it, as it snuggled into Harry’s embrace. The voice in her head was just as quiet, used to Harry’s affection, but almost as stunned by it the first time he kissed her. Harry felt her phone vibrate against him as he held her. It felt sinful for her to move from his side even the little bit that she did, but he let her of course. Watched her bring the phone to her ear. “Hey Ni,” she smiled. She listened carefully and started searching around for her friend. Harry glanced around too, the nerves eating at him more ferociously. “I don’t see you,” she frowned. “Do you see him—? I could just leave you here, Niall Horan. I was kind enough to drag myself and Harry out to get you at this ungodly hour.” Harry smirked and put a hand on her back and pointed across the room to where Niall arrived with his bag in tow. She bolted without warning, Harry chuckled as he followed her.

Niall rubbed her back soothingly and kissed her cheek as she reached him. Her arms around his neck and he mumbled something in her ear for just her. “There’s no place like home, huh, princess,” he winked at her. She rolled her eyes but ignored him all the same. He turned to Harry. “Harry,” he nodded and held his hand out for a handshake.

Harry took it and firmly shook it. Somehow it was twenty times worse than meeting her parents. “Niall,” he answered. Right as Niall released his hand, he punched Harry’s stomach. Hard.

“NIALL!” She gasped as Harry leaned forward, the wind knocked out of him, as he groaned at the impact. She put a hand on his back as he crunched inward.

Harry swore the voice in his head was laughing.

“Sorry, I had to get that out of my system,” Niall shrugged nonchalantly, grabbing the handle of his bag and waited for Harry to disagree or get himself together.

“S’okay,” Harry groaned. “Deserved it,” he mumbled.

“Oh my God, Niall, that was ridiculous!”

“No,” Harry grunted, stood straighter as the immediate pain subsided. He shook his head. “He’s right, I deserved it. S’okay, love,” he assured her. She rolled her eyes.

“There is something wrong with both of you.”

“S’a guy thing,” he promised and grabbed her hand, twined their fingers together. Honestly, if that was all Niall needed to do to forgive him, that was well worth it. There was no Sunshine without Niall’s approval. No days of watching The Wizard of Oz. He didn’t foresee a future Halloween where she, himself, and their future children dressed as the people of Oz and trick-or-treated with their little dog Toto. So, if Niall needed to get that out of his system, Harry was for it.

Plus, Harry felt like it was good retribution for making her cry.

“Ready?” Niall asked casually and she rolled her eyes squeezing Harry’s hand as Niall walked toward the exit.

“Are you okay?” She asked gently.

“M’fine, kitten. Promise. S’well worth it,” he winked at her and kissed her forehead as he tugged her after her friend.

*

When she met Harry, he was angry. So angry she thought it was his whole personality. But over the year of knowing him, she was utterly surprised to find out what a softie he was. He was snuggly—unbelievably so. His body was wrapped around hers like she was a tree, and he was a vine. His breath was warm on her neck, the steady rise and fall of his breathing was comforting and made her sleepy but part of her didn’t want to drift off. She was enjoying how peaceful this moment was. There was no rhyme or reason as to where they ended up sleeping on any given night. There was one week about a month ago that Harry all but moved into her place. Brought his laundry to fold while she read on the sofa and that was where he stayed until his clothes ran out. Sometimes she pressed her button on the elevator, sometimes Harry’s. It was without thought but it was natural. Completely. His place was just as much hers as it was his.

She wondered if her parents ever had this. Maybe that was why it was so odd to her. It was unfortunate, but she knew that she never had it in her last relationship. “S’matter, Sunshine?” Harry’s groggy, sleepy voice was one of her favorite sounds.

“Nothing,” she leaned toward him, kissed his forehead. “Nothing at all, Munchkin.”

He must have been tired because he didn’t respond, and she thought if he were a little more awake, he would have questioned her more. But he had had a long week and picking Niall up only added to his exhaustion. A quiet groan escaped his lips as he stretched suddenly, and he sat up a little straighter against the headboard and his pillows. Then he flicked on the bedside lamp casting him in a warm glow. He squinted against the light, his face drawn and tired, but he looked ready to talk anyway.

“Harry,” she hummed gently and stroked her fingertips softly along the stubble on his cheek. “S’late and you’re tired.”

“M’fine, kitten. S’matter? What’s going on in your pretty little head?” His voice was still groggy but she knew he wouldn’t sleep until she told him.

There was a pause. “You like snuggling.”

“I do,” he replied with a firm nod. “S’it too much?” He asked.

She shook her head quickly. “No, not at all. It’s...” she sighed. “It’s nice. I... I never had that.”

He turned on his side, draped an arm over her waist and brought her closer to his chest. “Hmm,” he hummed. “Good,” he mumbled.

She smiled. “Good?”

He nodded. “All mine,” he murmured, kissed her forehead. She giggled silently against his chest and inhaled the scent of his cologne. It was so intoxicating, so warm. I wanna be closer. Her heart nearly cried.

We physically cannot be closer. Her brain reasoned.

Her heart didn’t like that answer. “Wish I could be closer,” he mumbled squeezing her gently in attempt to actually get closer. It soothed her heart slightly. Her conscience, if it had the ability to roll its eyes, it would have.

Ridiculous. But she couldn’t help but notice how the voice’s sarcastic tone was the slightest bit appeased by the closeness of Harry.

“I love you,” Harry murmured.

Smiling, against his skin, she kissed the base of his throat and nodded. “I love you,” she whispered back.

--

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[autumnmobile12]

My Hero Academia: AFO's Other Allies

Maybe it's just because I watched the first installment of Arcane S2, but something I think would have been a really cool plotline in My Hero is if other allies of AFO had been introduced. Not the Doctor or Gigantomachia who were clearly his loyal followers. I mean other villain overlords who were part of his inner circle. An inner circle that collapsed in his absence.

All Might kills AFO, the classic power vacuum opens up, the remaining villain overlords fight amongst each other for dominance in the new order and their individual greed and pride destroys what’s left of AFO’s influence.

I've already made another post expressing my skepticism that AFO rose to power and other villains just took that laying down. Somebody had to have looked at the crown and wanted it badly enough to take him on, crazy as it might have been. But every villain overlord has his/her/their generals, lieutenants, constituents, whatever you want to call them. Overhaul had his loyal Eight Bullets, after all, and Dark Might had the entire Gollini family.

Arcane: Silco had the Chem-Barons. Not exactly loyal followers, but they feared him too much to know they couldn't overpower him.

Harry Potter: Voldemort's Death Eaters. He was pretty pissed none of them tried to find him after his 'death.'

Castlevania: Dracula's Generals. Again, not a completely loyal group and were in the stages of forming a coup, but there was still that level of fear that kept them in line.

D. Gray Man: The Millennium Earl's Noah Clan. Definitely loyal followers as they do regard each other as family.

Fullmetal Alchemist: Father and the Seven Homunculi. Another makeshift family of a kind.

In all honestly, I guess there is a canon explanation for the lack of AFO's allies: He does say All Might took out several of his 'friends,' so I guess that could have been part of the strategy. Incapacitate the Demon Lord by cutting off his limbs first, then going for the head so to speak.

But think about how interesting it would have been for Shigaraki to have to go about winning the support of AFO's old allies instead of the MLA plotline. Or if Re-Destro had been a former ally of AFO who was no more impressed by the skinny, gamer nobody and his ragtag coterie than Gigantomachia was. Or if another one of AFO’s former followers was trying to win over the Doctor’s support and Garaki wanted them both to prove their worth. Maybe the old allies have gotten used to the new order, accepted the golden age of villainy has passed in spite of All Might’s retirement, and they just aren’t willing to gamble what little they managed to keep after AFO’s fall.

It's a very The Old vs The New theme if we're pitting AFO's former followers against the League of Villains, but I think it would have still fit the tone in mirroring the hero students working to surpass their own predecessors. It would have presented Shigaraki with a shrewd choice to make: Do I bother winning over the has-beens in hopes they have invaluable experience to offer or do I eliminate them and risk making mistakes they could have counseled me about?

[hollowed-theory-hall]

Hi! I've been really enjoying your metas and I appreciate the canon backing and effort you put on them. Thank you for posting!

I wanted to ask you what your opinion is on the duel in GoF, when the wands connect and Harry kind of overpowers Voldemort: Do you think it was a battle of wills? Of pure raw magical power? Or, if you think it's both, could you share your thoughts on that? tysm!

(btw Harry is also my favourite <3)

Thank you so much! Harry deserves all the love in the world honestly.

Now, I think the priori incantatum duel was mostly will-based. Harry outright says it:

The direction of the beam’s movement was now toward him, from Voldemort, and he felt his wand shudder angrily. . . . As the closest bead of light moved nearer to Harry’s wand tip, the wood beneath his fingers grew so hot he feared it would burst into flame. The closer that bead moved, the harder Harry’s wand vibrated; he was sure his wand would not survive contact with it; it felt as though it was about to shatter under his fingers — He concentrated every last particle of his mind upon forcing the bead back toward Voldemort, his ears full of phoenix song, his eyes furious, fixed . . . and slowly, very slowly, the beads quivered to a halt, and then, just as slowly, they began to move the other way . . . and it was Voldemort’s wand that was vibrating extra-hard now . . . Voldemort who looked astonished, and almost fearful. . . . One of the beads of light was quivering, inches from the tip of Voldemort’s wand. Harry didn’t understand why he was doing it, didn’t know what it might achieve . . . but he now concentrated as he had never done in his life on forcing that bead of light right back into Voldemort’s wand . . . and slowly . . . very slowly . . . it moved along the golden thread . . . it trembled for a moment. . . and then it connected. . . .

(GoF, 665-666)

Harry states how he is concentrated. How he has no idea what he's doing but he knows he needs to push the bead forward. Voldemort's shock, as he wasn't expecting it, allowed him to be caught him off guard and he wasn't putting his all into it. Not the way Harry was. Voldemort likes being in control, he likes knowing and understanding what's going on. He doesn't like it when things go awry or when he doesn't know something. It leaves him off balance at this crucial moment. I think Voldemort did intuitively push the beads toward Harry at first, but the moment they started moving, he was stumped. He didn't know how to react to it. Like, he planned this night for months, and this was not in the script. Of course, he's off balance.

The spirits (yes, spirits, because unlike ghosts they are not made of a person's soul but a person's spirit, which is more like their life essence. Alchemy, yay!) that later came from his wand weren't helping him either, distracting him and guilting him while encouraging Harry. and Voldemort, contrary to popular belief, is susceptible to it. It unbalances him and definitely gives Harry an edge in a battle of wills.

Not to mention, Voldemort was fighting to rectify a failure, Harry, on the other hand, was fighting for his life. The latter always encourages more determination. Like, that duel isn't life or death for Voldemort, but it is for Harry. This explains why he could pull off the force of will necessary even if he wasn't exceptionally determined and resilient — which, for the record, Harry is.

And as Harry mentioned above, it's a lot of concentration and will. But, it's also magic, but not exactly, raw magical power. I mean, I talked in the past about how Harry just gets complex magic intuitively or thinks about magic in completely different terminology from everyone else? This is another example of that.

This is a spell that no one has seen before, not just that Harry hasn't seen. And yet, Harry understands. He knows what would happen if the beads of light reach his wand. He knows he needs to get them to Voldemort's wand. He also clearly knows how to achieve it. He just instinctively knows what to do even if he has no idea what he's doing.

Voldemort, on the other hand, likes to know what he is doing. He is more methodical about magic, he needs magic to make sense, to be known, to him at least. Even when he was a child at the orphanage, you know Tom Riddle experimented with his magic very methodically. He tried small things, seeing if he can replicate them and under what situations. He had a whole system he used to experiment and allow himself more capabilities. He practiced months before he attempted anything with Billy's rabbit. Harry doesn't need all that. Harry is fine winging it with magic in a way basically all of Wizardkind struggles with. Honestly, if there's really a power the Dark Lord knows not, it's how to just roll with it, the control freak (affectionate).

I'd add that if there was a significant difference in magical power between Harry and Voldemort, it would have had an effect, but I think, raw power-wise, they're pretty equal, as the prophecy implies. Because of that, in their case, raw magical power doesn't really play a part.

So, I'll call it a bit of a mix between force of will and capacity for intuitive magic. Two things Harry's got in spades. (but mostly force of will)

[sweet-creature101]

Sweet Creature

The moment harry fell in love with you.

bestfriend!harry

warnings: mention of alcohol. A lot of fluff.

“Is this okay?” You ask Harry, twirling around in your satin dress. The dress was sinched at your waist and fell down hugging your hips.

Harry had no response other than the butterflies that rose inside of him every time he so much as even glanced at you. ‘It’s only heartburn.’ He thought to himself. Harry tried his best to keep such feelings at bay, afraid of the outcome he might have to face if he revealed them.

“Oh my god. I look ridiculous don’t I?” You said, shock and disgust engraved in your eyes. That was the only possible reason of Harry’s silence, or at least that’s what you thought.

“What? No! You look, different.” Harry mumbled shyly as he buttoned his blazer.

“We’ve been friends far too long for you to act this way Haz. If I look hideous just say it.” You said, crossing your arms, your red painted lips forming a pout.

“You look beautiful, stunning, breathtaking-”

“Okay! Okay!” You interuppted him with a laugh, feeling your cheeks heat heavily. Harry couldn’t help but notice the red colour rushing into your cheeks as you stared at the ground. ‘Shy baby’ he thought to himself.

“I don’t even get why Niall is making us dress up so fancy shamncy.” You huff out a breath, looking at Harry fix his long hair.

Harry in simple words looked, ravishing. His red blazer matched with your red dress. You wanted to touch him, feel him, kiss him but you aware of the fact that Harry harboured no such feelings for you.

“Cheer up lovie. It’s his birthday, no taking chances with the dress code.” He said, flicking your nose gently.

—————————————

The music was loud. Loud enough to drown out any chance of conversation. You look around and get yourself a drink as you talk to Lila, a close friend of yours.

“Ladies!” Niall, grinned at both you and Lila as he approached you with a tray of vodka shots with Harry trailing behind him.

“Nope. I’m not doing that.” You spoke far too quickly, making Niall bark a laugh in response. “No one’s going out sober out of here.” Niall said winking at you.

“Drink up.”

With A few shots down, the party seemed to venture onto a much more eventful course. You danced with Lila and a few other men whom you didn’t know. The feeling of letting lose overpowered any logical reasoning you had. Harry ended up watching you from a distance, a protective gaze encasing you, observing your every move.

“Go and dance with her. If not, stop being a creep.” Lila said, patting his shoulder with a sly grin as if to say ‘I know you like her.’

“M’not being a creep.” He mumbled slowly. In all honestly, Harry understood why he would seem as ‘creep’, after all he had been staring at you all night long.

You spotted Harry from the distance. You waved at him with a bright smile. Harry returned your smile with equal affection. You stumble towards Harry and kiss his cheek slowly, giggling like a four year old girl.

“May I have this dance?” You ask Harry, extending a hand towards him. Harry smiled at you and placed his ring clad hand in yours and pulled you towards him, your chest bumping into his making you inhale sharply.

Apocalypse by Cigarettes After Sex began to play. Harry placed one hand at your waist and the other held yours. You sighed and kept your head at chest, sighing in content as you close your eyes. The two of you swayed slowly to the song. The proximity you shared was calming, and alluring.

“Tired?” Harry asked you, holding you.

“Never.” You replied making him laugh.

You weren’t absolutely drunk. You were drunk enough to posses a certain level of courage, which in a normal scenario would’ve been present.

In a normal scenario, you wouldn’t have asked Harry to dance with you. You would’ve have kissed his cheek and you most certainly wouldn’t have done what did next.

“Can I tell you something?” You asked him, your big glassy eyes staring up at him. “Anything at all.” Harry replied with all sincerity.

“I think… no wait, I know that I’m falling in love with you. I’m aware that I’m not much and you’re so used to dating all those models and perfect girls, that I might as well seem like a degrade. I just wanted to get this off my chest before I exploded.” You spoke far too quickly.

Harry noticed the signs, he took a good look at your body language. This was the first time he looked in your eyes with clarity as you stood across from him, enough to sober the both of you. He took a step closer, closing the tiny silver of space between you two. He noticed you were breathing deeply, which reminded him that he wasn’t breathing at all. So caught up in you, thay he forgot to breathe.

Your lips met and Harry’s tongue pressed your lower lip, parting your mouth as you welcomed him. His tongue slipped inside your mouth. You tasted like cherry with a hint of vodka. A moment later, your hands slipped from his neck as you grabbed his hair, completly forgetting where you are. Harry’s hands crept to your waist and his chest pressed against yours.

For Harry, this simply wasn’t just a kiss. It was an epiphany, a cure, a transformation and an unprecedented salvation in the purest form.

Finally as you pull away, Harry let out a groan as he let his eyes stay shut, not wanting to wake up from this dream. The last thing he wanted was to pull away. His large hands let go of your waist. Time stopped as he came to terms with this dizzy and swaying world. How could he have missed out all this time.

“I’m falling in love with you.” Harry merely said, connecting his lips to yours once more.

[iamnmbr3]

what are your thoughts on a Deathly Hallows AU where draco joins the trio on their quest? plausible/not plausible? more interesting for draco or no? i honestly wish sometimes jkr had branched out from the trio and brought draco in, but idk if it could've been pulled off.

I think that would be delightfully great fun. (One of the many things that could've also spiced up canon a bit and broken up the interminable camping scenes with a bit more drama and tension). I've even thought of writing one. If we're sticking to canon I could see it happening after the Manor sequence.

Like maybe Dobby shows up in the cell a little earlier, while Draco's down there to get Griphook. At which point Harry realizes that in order to stop the alarm being sounded they will have to put Draco out of commission. Of course he also realizes that this means he will take the brunt of the blame for the escape. So naturally he opts for the incredibly impractical solution of overpowering Draco and grabbing his wand, but then stunning him and having Dobby take him along to Shell Cottage too as their prisoner. C'mon Ron. He can't just leave him there to die. He would do the same for anyone. No really. Ok maybe not Wormtail or any of the other Death Eaters but honestly there's nothing special or different about how he feels towards Draco. There isn't.

And then of course they can't send him back because he'd be in even more trouble. But surely they can't take him with them. Even if Harry's sure deep down he's feeling conflicted they can't trust him. But he is a Black by blood. And maybe they realize he could be useful in getting into Bellatrix's vault. And besides, they can't really leave him with Bill and Fleur; that puts them at risk and this was Harry's stupid decision so they shouldn't be stuck with it. Cue uneasy alliance and growing bond and Draco eventually making his choice and saving Harry. Bonus points if in this version of the Room of Requirement Sequence Draco chooses his side and hurls the diadem into the fire.

Alternately, another way it could go down is Voldemort figures out the the stuff about the Wandlore much earlier in canon, and unlike in canon he makes the connection that Draco is the Master of the Elder wand, not Snape, because he disarmed Dumbledore. So he decided that obviously he needs to pop into Malfoy Manor for a quick spot of murder. And Harry sees this in a vision. So when they stage their escape he takes Draco with them because of course he does. Now that he's disarmed him he's pretty sure he's the Master of the Elder Wand and that's fine because Voldemort already wants to kill him. But he's also pretty sure that Voldemort will still kill Draco, esp bc he's 1) really mad about Harry's escape 2) because he now suspects Draco of maybe helping Harry Potter and 3) because he wants to kill all potential claimants on the wand just to be sure.

Obviously he doesn't want to tell Draco any of this so at first they keep him tied up and blindfolded and under the Imperius Curse. But Draco's fighting it and Harry hates holding someone under and Unforgivable like that. And it's not practical. But they also can't have him pressing his Mark. Eventually they do start loosening some of the restrictions. And also tell him enough to get him to believe Voldemort will murder him if he finds them. And again. Cue uneasy alliance and redemption and eventual drarry.

And there are many more ways you could do it as well. So yes. Very here for it.

[ellorypurebloodculture]

Hey ellory hope your having a lovely day,evening or night wherever you are!. I don't know if this counts as a world building question or something else.Sorry if I put in the wrong category! In some of your fics harry grows up with the Dursleys like in canon Hp so I was just have some questions about that🥰

1: If magic is sentient in the PC Verse does that mean Mother magic or the Potter family magic helped him before he officially learned about magic?

2: Did any of his family vassals or allies help him learn about his heritage when he turned eleven? Did any of them find out about he was treated by the Dursleys.

3: I don't suppose you have any headcannons on why the potter hair is unruly? Or is just james and harry who suffer from it😂😂.

That's all questions I have so far but I really appreciate you reading them. Btw I totally see your world as my headcanon now. It's absolutely amazing. Here are some roses as a thank you for introducing me to this stunning world🥰😍

Thank you for the roses! They're beautiful! 😊

My day has been very nice and low-key so far. ❤️

That's a really nice compliment. Thank you! I'm excited you enjoy my world-building that much.

I don't often write the Dursleys into fics, so these answers might not be as in-depth as you hoped.

1. Harry would still have access to the Potter family magic, yes.

2. Honestly, the only way I see him ending up at the Dursleys is if all the Potters and their Vassals are dead.

3. Oh, I absolutely head-canon that the unruly Potter hair is due to an overpowered prank curse cast centuries ago that manifests in every male Potter. 😂

[arliedraws]

There was a quote in book 3 that went like this "Ron pushed Harry aside and the dog's paw went into Ron's outstretched arm instead of Harry's" (Sorry if I wrote it wrong) Do you think Sirius was trying to get Harry at first but then decided to get Ron? If so, I wonder what would have happened when she first got Harry, what kind of conversation would have taken place between them. What do you think? Can you write a short fic about this subject? love u, thanks

Ahhhh actually, Sirius does get to Harry first—he leaps and catches Harry as Harry’s about to reach for his wand, knocking him to the ground. Harry DOES get shoved aside, but Sirius always intended to get Ron because he knew Ron had Peter in his pocket.

My interpretation of this scene was that the only reason Sirius waited for Harry and Hermione to arrive in the shack was because he knew they would try to save Ron. His plan was to overpower them, kill Peter, and then explain afterwards. This is the last chance he has to kill Peter—nice reunions and sweet moments can wait, especially when Harry’s safety depends on Peter’s capture/death.

If Sirius had brought Harry to the shack first with the hope that Ron and Hermione would follow, I think the scene would still have gone very similarly as it appears in the book—Harry would fight the dog all he could, and once Sirius transformed in the shack, Harry would attack him. Now, if Harry broke his leg, that might be a bit different, and maybe Ron+Hermione would have gone back for a teacher (though I don’t think Ron would’ve—he would’ve charged after Harry and the dog).

Idk honestly! I just don’t think there would have been enough time for Sirius to convince Harry of the truth before Ron and Hermione would have arrived.

I might write this as like…an exercise, so I won’t count it out! Maybe YOU should give it a shot 😉

[samuelanderson1-blog]

RP Anyone?

Interested in some roleplays. I'm mostly into sports anime, but there's a few others I'd be interested in as well. I'm a 30 y/o M (ftm), so please be at least 21+. I've got about fifteen years of RP experience, but that doesn't mean I'm an expert or write these super long posts. Characters are aged up to legal adults (so college on)

Post lengths range from a couple lines to a paragraph or two (give or take). Some posts may be longer, but I'm by no means a novella writer. And despite the fact that English is my first language (and only), sometimes my English and Grammar skills lack.

I personally write OC's, and am happy to write with well fleshed OC's as well, so long as they're not overpowered. You can also write as canon characters as well, either is fine with me!

RP's I'd possibly be interested in are as follows. I'll also give brief info on each OC. Keep in mind MOST my Oc's typically hail from outside of Japan (transfer students turned permanent resident or on student visa, or just live outside of Japan). Many also have some form of health issue/disability, but they DO NOT have to, as their character does not revolve around it. There are a tiny handful of exceptions to this however. They're also all gay.

Health issues will be marked with (HI) and can be discussed in private.

Free!: One OC, Samuel Anderson (HI), a backstroke swimmer from Brisbane, Australia. His ears are deformed and lives with severe hearing loss, though has hearing aids that makes it manageable. He does have a bit of a dark past that has made his career as a swimmer complicated. (I'm caught up with this series except for the last two "episodes")

My Hero Academia: Two Oc's. Keiji Okada and Kaito Amari. Keiji can melt into shadows taking small loads with him (and people for VERY short periods of time), and Kaito is a double amputee who can transform into a white wolf. (Caught up with the Anime)

Haikyuu: Three Oc's: Morgan Lewis, who hails from Ireland. Adopted into his family and has setter and middle blocker skills. Morgan also suffers with some mental issues, nothing super drastic that isn't being managed.

James O'Malley, who hails from England and has middle blocker skills. He stutters. He can sing perfectly fine (and is quite good at it), but he can't get a full spoken sentence out without it taking a bit. Communicates via texts / notepad mostly. Does know sign language.

Kegan Williams, who hails from Alaska, USA. This is a FtM character who doesn't play past high school due to their gender identity and the complications that come with it. He specializes as a setter however. He suffers with a lot of gender dysphoria. (I'm not caught up with this series in either format, but spoilers are AoK!)

86: Eighty Six: Kyoji Natsumo "FrostWind". San Magnolia 86 Soldier who serves as a mechanic for the Spearhead Squadron. Covered in burn scars and is missing his right leg from a mission prior to arriving at Spearhead. Very quiet and doesn't really socialize. (Caught up with the anime, up to volume eight or nine I believe for the Light Novel)

Soul Eater: Lukas Jorgenson, a Meister. Honestly he's not really into it, but his parents made him attend the academy. He specializes in long weapons such as spears. (Caught up with the original Anime, but not the spin off or the manga)

Yuri on Ice: Antoine "Anthony" Dubois, a blind skater from Canada. He travels with his sister who competes professionally. He himself can skate but it's not at a competitive level.

Andy Davis, a professional skater from Australia. Not a big name and honestly doesn't really touch the skill level required for the Grand Prix, but it doesn't stop him from trying. (Caught up on this series)

Fruits Basket: Ufuru Sohma, a next gen OC (year of the dog), or could just be a family member. (100% caught up on this series)

Harry Potter: Shane Morris. Distant relative of Newt Scamander, though doesn't know it as he's the child of a child of a squib and a muggle. Very skilled with magical creatures.

Percy Jackson: Alex O'Connor, son of Apollo and an irish woman who moved to Montana to live with her husband on a ranch.

Morgan Hofler, son of Athena and a university professor. (seen the movies, read all the books except for the second and onward of the new college series for Percy Jackson. Have not seen past meeting Medusa on the TV series)

Pokemon: Jack Reeve, a Pokemon trainer from the Alolan Region. Specializes in Canine Type Pokemon. (I've played all the games and seen all the TV series.)

I also have some non series related OC's

Lance Neilson, an AKC Dog Show/Field Handler specializing in Brittanys.

Jackson Matthews, a College student aiming to be a vet.

Caleb Mitchell, a Horse Jockey.

Peter Kramer, a German College Student who was a competitive diver until an accident took the use of his legs.

Lt. Franklin "Troller" Marshall, a Navy Fighter Pilot.

and Taylor Martin, a Rodeo Bulldogger.

If anyone's interested, please send me a message! I RP on Discord, but would like to chat here first to make sure we're on the same page, first.

[dreamerwithapen1]

all evens for the fanfic ask game :)

Thank youuuuu🥰🥰

2) Post a line from your WIP with no context.

Sirius inhaled sharply, croissant lodging in his throat, and he coughed violently, sending a puff of powdered sugar in the air. His eyes bulged from his head as Leely and Hopper frantically slapped his back in a poor attempt to help.

“Oh dear,” she said mildly, sipping her Butterbeer.

4) Describe the setting of your WIP.

The Wizarding World of Harry Potter set during the Marauders Era and beyond

6) Search for the word “dream” in your WIP. If you find it, paste the line and explain the context.

Haven’t used that word yet for this one.

8) What is your biggest challenge?

Staying firm in my decision to kill off James 🙃 (inner me is screaming, crying, throwing up at the very thought but for the sake of plot…)

10) How would you describe your WIP’s narrative style? (1st person, 3rd person, multiple POVs, single POV, alternating chapters, etc.)

Third person all the way, and I’m a sucker for alternating between multiple POVs throughout the fic.

12) Which character do you have the least in common with?

Y’know I was gonna say Bellatrix because she be crazy but honestly… she’s really just a fangirl at the end of the day and like girl, same (minus all the evil shit of course) So my next choice would probably be Sirius. That boy’s flare for the dramatics, his extrovertedness, the flirtiness- could not be me.

14) Have you chosen birthdays for any of your characters? If so, when are they?

Fun fact: Ascella shares the same exact birthday as Sirius- November 3, 1959. She’s older than him by exactly 18 minutes.

16) What would your characters be for Halloween?

At home? There would be a Hallows’ Eve ball, and Ascella would likely go as something simple yet elegant like Artemis so as to fit in with all of the uppity, fancy, no fun Pure-Bloods.

At school, surrounded by friends in one the common rooms after having consumed one too many glasses of Firewhisky?

A werewolf.

She thinks she’s hilarious. Remus (also drunk) thinks she’s hilarious. Sirius (drunker than them both) thinks she’s hilarious. Peter (slightly less drunk but still plastered) thinks she’s hilarious. James (the designated Sober Friend of the evening) does not think she’s hilarious (except he does) as he proceeds to spend the entire night preventing them from drunkenly proclaiming to the world that Remus is a werewolf through bad puns and poorly concealed jokes.

18) What’s easier, dialogue or description?

Description for sure.

20) Post a brief excerpt.

She looked in the mirror as the door opened, and Regulus stepped inside. She twisted around to look at him more clearly and hid her frown. He was skinnier than when she had seen him last, his skin pallid, and there were faint dark circles under his eyes. But his expression was, as always, a mask of calm boredom and indifference.

“Aunt Druella requests your presence in the sitting room,” he announced, hands in his pockets.

“Are the others here?” Cissa asked, setting everything down.

“Not yet. But they’re due soon, and she wants everyone in place before then.”

Clicking her tongue, Bella stood up and flipped her hair over her shoulders. The nervous energy was still there, thrumming beneath the surface, but it was overpowered now by her usual confidence. She planted a swift kiss on Ascella’s cheek, and Ascella reached out to give her hand a quick squeeze. Their eyes met, and Ascella saw the gratitude shimmering in her dark gaze, just as she knew Bella saw the reassurance in her own. She pressed their foreheads together for just a moment before pulling away and moving toward the door.

Cissa was a step behind her but paused to give a Ascella a quick hug.

“Be careful,” Ascella murmured into her ear, fine blonde hair tickling her nose.

Her sister’s voice was just as quiet. “Always am.”

[hillnerd]

WAKING UP - CH 15

AO3   FFN      Beginning of story | Previous Chapter

chapter word count 13 114

Gigantic thank you to my beta @abradystrix. Check out her work as it's truly lovely writing!

previously in 'Waking Up'(honestly, I recommend re-reading the chapter before as lots of it ties to this chapter)

Ron briefly connects with Ginny and she tells him how worried she is for him before she leaves the Burrow- she had a confrontation with Harry the night before about Ron's safety that the couple are still reeling from.

Ron learns some spells to use in his Combat Readiness Exam. Harry and Ron go to the Ministry for their C.R.E. but are confronted by loads of reporters, including Rita Skeeter. Robbie rescues them with a side room to weigh their wands.

They get ready for their C.R.E. and Ramona is late and looking bedraggled.

It's time for the C.R.E.- it's a hostage situation, they're all wearing the same safety vests as before, and they split up to find the hostage.

Harry Ron Ramona Claudia and Neville take out a team of 3 Aurors- one of which was a rooftop 'sniper' type Auror Ron was able to overpower.

They meet with the other recruits and get the 'hostage dummy' in a flurry of action- Ron's definitely experiencing PTSD symptoms and his arm is doing poorly-

There are 3 'enemy' Aurors left- Robards (head of Aurors), Sealy-Pearce and Musaad. They are in a 'squid room' that deflects spells and dove into the earth.

Neville and Vyse help with his arm that's numb and acting up.

The recruits split up to find the squid, Ramona Claudia Ron and Harry go underground, while the rest are above.

Harry and Ron split off and hear a voice:

"Harry?" came a voice. They both turned to the sound of the feminine voice.

"Was that—?" asked Harry.

"Harry?"

That was Ginny's voice! What was Ginny doing here? Her voice was there, clear as day, but there was no sign of Ron's sister. It had come from a different smaller tunnel.

"Gin?" Harry called out, going down the tunnel a few paces.

"Harry… I don't think—" Ron began.

"Harry?" came Ginny's voice again.

They slowly crept down the tunnel, wand's light being eaten up by the darkness.

"Harry!" They swung their wands and there was Ginny, covered in blood, reaching towards them.

Chapter warnings: cannon level violence, descriptions of cannon dead characters, ptsd symptoms, cursing, hallucinations, nightmarish creepy imagery, spiders, mention of blood and having trouble breathing, implied sexual assault memories, choking and water going up sinuses, reference to dead parent, reference to severely disabled parent, broken bone, characters with limited control of emotions/selves, strong emotions

---------------------------------------

CHAPTER 15 - C.R.E. #4

Ron wrenched back from his blood-covered sister, feet submerging in sludgy water.

“You didn’t do enough!” Ginny accused, pointing a bloody finger.

At first Ron thought she was directing her words at himself, but he soon realised she only had her piercing gaze set on Harry.

“Everyone’s dead because of you. You killed Fred. You killed Lupin and Tonks. Dobby and Sirius and Cedric and—”

“Don’t listen, Harry,” said Ron. He tried to step in front of him, but his boot caught fast in the slurry at his feet.

“Bill and George and Dad and Ron and I all nearly died because of you! Everywhere you go, people die for you! You use us as human shields and everyone ends up dead! Ron’s the next one to die becau—”

“Riddikulus!” Ron shouted at his sister. With a crack, she was in clown makeup, complete with clown nose and hat. It wasn’t particularly funny, but at least she wasn’t terrifying anymore.

Harry was pale beside him, eyes wide.

“Nothing that thing said is true,” Ron immediately said. “Not one word of it. Ginny doesn’t think that!”

Harry mutely moved his head in a pale imitation of a nod.

“Fucking Boggarts…” muttered Ron,

pulling at his leg until it squelched with a loud ‘thhhwip’ and came free.

“Here, let’s move before it changes into a giant spider.”

There was a crack behind him. He began to point his wand when he heard the voice rasping, “Got you to scream good and loud for me, didn’t I?”

A claw of terror raked over him, rendering him unable to move, to utter a single word.

That voice brought back every strike, every sensation… It felt like an iron suit of armour had dropped onto his chest from a fourth story window.

He turned and there stood the hulking figure of Otho Crowthers lurching towards him. His brow was as sloped as the last time he’d seen him, his steps as heavy and menacing. It even had that rancid smell of his body and breath. Ron thought he might throw up as that same smell rolled over him. How could the Boggart know the smell of him?

“Riddikulus,” he gasped, waving his wand.

“Bet I can make you scream without a wand… Can’t I?”

“Riddikulus!”

He couldn’t make it funny. He couldn’t think of anything. This wasn’t funny. His mind raced, searching for a way to lighten the darkness that surrounded him, but all he found were the suffocating grip of shame and the gnawing bite of fear.

“Who’s—?” Harry began to ask.

“I like raw meat like you, ginger.”

“Ri-Riddikulus,” Ron croaked.

“You know what I want to do to you? I’m gonna tear—” Crowthers crooned.

“Riddikulus!” cried Harry, stepping in front of the Boggart. Crowthers changed into an oversized Gorilla with a kazoo.

A tsunami of shame overwhelmed him, battering him to and fro until he was a pulp of useless flesh. He couldn’t bear to look over and see Harry grimly studying him.

The things it had said…

Every particle of him wished the cave would collapse on him. He didn’t want to see or be seen. How many times did he have to have his soul ripped out and put on display for his friend?

“Ron, who was that?”

“No one,” his mouth said before his brain could even begin to create an explanation. “Let’s… Let’s…”

“Ron…” He could hear the pleading in Harry’s voice to tell him what was going on; to let him help in some way. He couldn’t give that to him, as much as he wanted to spare his friend an iota of hurt, he just couldn’t.

“Please can we move away from the Boggart? Please?”

He was already pathetic, why not add begging to the mix?

“We can go back to the other tunnel,” agreed Harry, tone horribly gentle. They both ignored the Boggart as it latched onto Harry and turned into a bloody Ron on the ground. “Yeah, let’s go.”

Ron felt a hand on his back and jerked away.

Harry took a deep gulp of air, as if he was about to dive underwater. He tended to do that before an unpleasant conversation topic.

“So,” Harry began, but before he could say more the earth beneath their feet shook, and a great rumble echoed through the tunnels.

“The Squid,” Ron exclaimed, running towards the noise.

Harry hesitated, but quickly caught up with him.

Their wrists heated as their watches showed the message: ‘Found Squid! We’re at a manhole near Bethune! -Claudia’

They didn’t need a map; the crashing of the Squid was practically upon them.

As they rounded the corner, chaos unfolded and the air cracked with magic.

Ramona and Claudia were in the corner throwing spells, taking cover behind fallen stones and fragments of ancient columns.

Through the small red window, the Squid room churned out a destructive onslaught of hexes and blasts, each more destructive than the next.

Harry and Ron joined the fray, launching a flurry of spells, but nothing seems to hurt the Squid.

The Squid's tentacle-like limbs effortlessly blocked each spell, nullifying the magic as if it were nothing more than a puff of air.

“Can’t get anything through!” Ron panted.

Harry’s only response was to yell his spells louder.

One of Harry’s spells deflected off a metallic arm and struck the red window, causing a blink-and-you-miss-it crack to form.

“The window!” Ron yelled at him.

"Aim at the window!" Harry shouted to the team. Claudia and Ramona promptly responded, and the tunnel was alight with destructive spells.

"Reducto!" bellowed Harry. With his final hit, the crack spread across the window.

"We're doing it! It could break!" exclaimed Claudia.

The Squid's massive arms thrashed, striking the tunnel's side with a bone-shaking force and a pillar fell, pinning an arm of the Squid.

The Squid struggled to move, pulling at its trapped arm like a dog tugging at a rope. With a final lurch, it shook itself loose.

A horrifying crunch followed as the pillar was thrown across the alcove, taking out masonry as easily as one would brush away cobwebs.

“GET BACK!” yelled Harry.

Time slowed as pillars of brick crumbled, one brick at a time popping into dust, shaking the stone floor beneath their feet.

The tunnel walls groaned like an old whale, then gave way to the impending collapse.

The ground was gone from beneath Ron.

For a moment he was weightless and his stomach swooped. There was nothing to grab or do, but hang in the air and feel everything falling.

The impact knocked the wind out of him as he landed on unforgiving rocky terrain. Stones and masonry fell around him. He couldn’t breathe, but managed to pull his legs and arms in to protect himself.

The sound of everything collapsing was a deafening roar. Every pitch of sound both high and low was hit at once, surrounding him as he was shaken and hit.

The ground lurched again and he was thrown like a limp doll into darkness.

He struggled through his nose to take in air. He’d had the breath knocked out of him before, and knew what to do, but surrounded by dust and detritus it was hard to feel like his inhales were doing anything.

The cacophony of collapse finally eased.

Amid the darkness, he heard the moans of his companions.

He squinted up and it took a moment for his eyes to adjust. He found himself trapped between sections of the collapsed floor and a slanted piece of ceiling. He was not able to stand fully upright in the tight space and his arms began to ache.

He was filthy, and from head to waist he was sprinkled in a thin film of rust-coloured dust he tried to wipe off. Each brush against the orange dust only moved it around.

"Everyone okay?" called Claudia from somewhere above him.

"We're down here! We're alright!" came Harry's voice. “Where are you?”

“I’m in the tunnel we were in, but I don’t see anyone!” cried Claudia.

"Harry?" Ron coughed, swatting away the dust.

"Here!" A wand illuminated, and an orange hand waved from a corner of his alcove. There was a small opening; enough for an arm to fit through, but not enough for a whole body, even one as wiry as Harry's.

Ron peered into the hole.

Harry and Ramona were deep within the crevice, the wall and collapsed floor of the tunnel blocking their escape. Covered head to toe in a much thicker coating of orange dust, they looked like a duo of mutant Crookshankses.

Ron could feel a pressure building around him and the hairs on his neck began to rise. Something was wrong.

"Can you Apparate out?" Claudia called from up above. "I'm afraid to move any of this rubble without help. I don’t want to cause another collapse!"

Ron attempted to Apparate, but the anti-Apparition Ward was still in place. "I can’t Apparate. We'll have to wait until everyone regroups."

"Got you to scream good and loud for me."

Ron whipped his head around, certain the sound had originated from behind, but there was no Boggart in sight, just stone and dust motes still settling.

"Harry, do you see the Boggart?" he asked.

"No," Harry quietly replied, before adding, “but I can hear Ginny again.”

"You hear Ginny?" Ron questioned. “Can you hear anyone else?”

“No… Why? What do you hear?”

“Mum?” called Ramona.

“Ramona, what do you hear?” asked Harry.

“It’s… It’s my Mum… She’s begging for help… You said it was a Boggart? Where is it?”

Ron couldn’t hear Ginny or Ramona’s Mum.

A bloodcurdling scream rent the air. Hermione’s.

“Ron! Please! Help!”

He stood and yelled into the dark, “Riddikulus!”

But there was nothing to see, nothing to transform into something humorous.

The pressure from before was pounding on Ron now. He could feel the magic of the place swarming them. They were surrounded by it.

“I reinforced the walls so you won’t get crushed,” called Claudia. “But I’m nervous to move anything on my own up here. Hold tight- we’ll have the others help soon!”

“WHERE IS IT?” screamed Ramona.

“I— I don’t…” Ron began— but Hermione was screaming as she did in the Manor as Crowthers crooned in Ron’s ears what he’d do to them. “Harry? Do you see it?”

He knelt down and peered into the darkness expecting to see Harry next to the opening, but his friend was bent over, hands on his ears.

“Harry!” Ron yelled at him.

Harry shook his head, green eyes wide and unseeing.

Ramona was pacing the back of the room, arms clutched around her middle. “We have to get out of here! They’re going to get us!”

“Who?” asked Ron.

“The Snatchers are coming!”

“Ramona, It’s not real! Whatever you’re hearing, it’s not—”

Hermione’s screams ripped through him.

Ramona was in the corner screaming. “Mum! Mummy! No! Please, Please!”

Harry on the ground with hands over his ears muttering to himself. “I’m sorry… I’m sorry!”

“Mate, it’s okay, we’re going to get you out of there!”

“I’m so sorry!” cried Harry.

“Riddikulus!” Ron shouted again, but nothing stopped the cacophony of terror; it rang through him as screams and nightmares flooded his ears.

“Someone tell me what’s happening!” Claudia pled.

“We’re… We’re hearing things!” he managed to say between hitched sobs. When had he started crying? Why couldn’t he Apparate to Hermione? He had to get out of the cellar! No… No he wasn’t in Malfoy Manor.

“Ron! Please help me,” sobbed Hermione before letting out another blood-curdling scream.

“Hermione!” he called back, punching the wall, but nothing helped.

A quicksand of fear was pulling him ever down down down. He wiped at his face, which was wet with something. Tears? Blood?

Where was he? Everything was dark… He couldn’t Apparate to Hermione! She needed him, or Crowthers would… Wait, she wasn’t there with him. He was alone… How… How did they get them all in Malfoy’s cellar again?

“I’m going to make you scream,” growled Crowthers.

He punched at the walls. He had to get to her! He couldn’t let Crowthers touch her!

He could see her on the other side, small and pale as she was dragged along the floor by her hair. She didn’t even flinch as she was thrown onto a stump and tied in place.

“Hermione!” He screamed and sobbed, but couldn’t get to her. His hands were bleeding as he madly scrabbled for her. “Hermione!”

Spiders of every size were crawling over him and he nearly vomited as their sharp little legs caught on his skin.

He tried to shake them off and get to Hermione, but blood was on the ground,slowly oozing towards him, and Crowther’s toxic breath was in his nostrils.

“Ron!” came an insistent voice from above him.

He shook his head. His mind felt flayed open, a rupture of raw hurt and confusion.

“Please answer me, Ron! What’s going on down there?!”

Suddenly Malfoy’s cellar was brightly lit, blinding him as he sobbed into the ground.

“Christ— he’s covered in Boggart dust! Put your shirt over your face or bubblehead charm yourself,” came a male voice.

There were murmurs, but the main thing he heard was Crowthers in his ear whispering, “tell me your name, pretty…”

A hand latched into him and he could see Fred, corpse pale, blood pooling down his neck and bits of brain falling onto the ground.

“It should’ve been you… George even said so,” said Fred without malice. He was right.

“Ron, don't let him kill me!” pleaded Hermione, tears in her eyes.

His head was wrenched back, and he threw an elbow trying to stop Crowthers. A stinging rush of something went up his nose. It had to be spiders crawling up inside his face scrabbling and tearing out his brain to lay eggs.

He was drowning and gagging as water flushed through his sinuses.

“Sorry, we need to get it all out of you,” a voice apologised.

“Get… What? Weneedta get Hermione…” he slurred. Another course of water flushed up his nose and down his throat, making him retch on the ground. He was sprayed down, and the cold made every muscle twitch.

“I needta stop ‘im… Crowthers!”

Hermione screamed in his ears and he struggled to get to her, not minding the sting of the cuts in his hands.

“He needs at least one more flush out once I pass him up to you,” said a male voice.

His teeth chattered as a spell lifted him into light.

“I’m sorry, but it looks like we need to do it once more, Ron,” someone said before water flushed through his sinuses a third time, stinging his eyes and even the inside of his cheek bones.

He coughed and felt snot dripping from his nose and hocked even more of it on the ground.

A warm hand was on his shoulder.

“You with me?”

He squinted up into the face of Neville.

“Nev?”

“Yes! Where are you?”

“I’m…” Ron blinked around the dark cavernous room. It wasn’t Malfoy Manor. It was well-lit compared to the hole he’d been in. Hermione wasn’t there. Crowthers wasn’t there… Fred and the spiders were gone… “The… The C.R.E. In a tunnel.”

“That’s right,” he nodded, giving a tight grin. Neville had the film of a bubblehead charm around his face, and Ron belatedly discovered he had one as well. The charm slightly distorted his view and made his breath feel hot on his face.

With a sudden realisation he scrambled for the hole they’d just lifted him from. “Oh fuck, we need to get Harry!”

“We’re getting him. It’s going to be okay, Ron,” said Neville, gently pushing him back until he was lying against the wall.

For some reason Ron started crying again. His voice was broken as deep sobs shook him. He wrapped his arms around himself. “M’sorry!”

“Don’t apologise. You all fell into an old Boggart breeding den, it looks like. That’s what Vyse said, anyway. There’s ‘Boggart dust’ everywhere. It basically makes you mad with fear and hallucinations until it works its way out of your system fully. Emotions of every kind will be intense for a bit, so we’ll stay here until you’re feeling up to moving.”

Ron looked over the side as he continued to cry.

The stones keeping Harry and Ramona imprisoned were floated aside.

“Spray down the area first, then we’ll get them individually,” ordered Vyse.

He could hear Ramona sobbing and screaming for her mother, but nothing from Harry. For minutes he waited, but he still hadn’t heard Harry’s voice.

Ron shook his head. “I need to help.”

“We’ve got it,” said Neville.

“No you don’t. Not with Harry.” Ron stood on wobbly knees and unshrunk his broom. They didn’t understand! Ron had seen Harry afraid before and he knew what he was capable of. He had been on the receiving end of punches as Harry was rent out of nightmares, and had seen his friend destroy an oak door because it slammed too hard.

He flew down to ground they’d cleared of Boggart dust. Ramona was sobbing on the ground, struggling against Theold as Vyse attempted to Aguamenti her face.

Harry was shaking, but otherwise limp on the ground, arm protectively grasping his shoulder with white knuckles. He was wet all over, a bubble charm in place.

“Ron? Shouldn’t you be up with Neville?” asked Kevin.

“M’fine,” he said, kneeling beside Harry. “Harry? You okay?”

“He hasn’t responded to any of us, and we’ve flushed him out like five times,” said Claudia, worry pinching her features.

For a moment Ron considered putting a restraint on Harry, but the thought of doing that to him after whatever he’d been forced to listen to was repugnant.

“Harry, I need to get some water into you again. It’s going to sting. Can you hear me?”

Harry stared ahead with open eyes, tear tracks or water running down his cheeks— Ron couldn’t tell which.

He removed the bubble charm.

“Aguamenti,” whispered Ron with a shaking voice. His own face was wet with tears again as he flushed Harry’s face with water and his friend barely flinched.

“Harry, wake up!” Ron said, giving his friend a shake.

“Flush him again,” he dimly heard Vyse say.

Ron performed another ‘aguamenti’ and with a start Harry flinched and vomited up orange tinged water on the ground.

“That’s it, get it all out,” Ron croaked.

Harry choked and spasmed before his bleary eyes caught Ron’s.

“R-Ron?” he whimpered.

“Yeah! Yeah it’s me,” Ron blubbered, unable to stop himself. Fucking Boggarts…

Claudia washed off Harry’s glasses and handed them to Ron. He put them in place and cast another bubble head charm on Harry.

Harry was pale and patted his hand along the ground for his wand.

“Here,” said Ron, handing it to him.

His friend took the wand, but didn’t try to move again. As Ron explained the Boggart dust, he could feel the wet tracks down his face and a gross itch at his nose. He wished he could wipe his face, but that might get more dust on him.

“Let’s get out of here,” Ron urged.

Harry weakly nodded, and limply let Ron guide him to a standing position.

“Here Ron, let me help,” said Kevin.

He put a hand on Ron’s back.

It felt like Crowthers was about to rut against him and he gave a small cry of alarm at the contact.

In an instant Harry wrenched away, his features twisting into an angry snarl. “DON’T TOUCH HIM!”

Before anyone could react, a spell hurtled through the chamber, a destructive projectile hitting Kevin squarely in the chest. The large recruit flew into the wall with a gut-wrenching crunch before he vanished into thin air.

"Oh, shit!" Ron's exclamation mirrored the collective shock, his mind racing as panic and disbelief battled for dominance.

“What the fuck, Harry?” asked Theold, pointing his wand at Harry. All the wands were on Harry.

“Wait!” Ron said, standing in front of him. “It was an accident! It’s the Boggart dust. Don’t—”

Ropes were around Harry in an instant, and his friend let out an aborted cry before toppling.

“I’m sorry!” squeaked Claudia.

Ron knelt beside Harry as he shook on the ground, writhing like a mad man.

“Harry… Harry please snap out of it…”

“More water,” said Vyse, pushing Harry to a seated position. “You hold him, I’ll flush him out.”

Ron got behind him, putting Harry’s back against his own chest.

“Ready?” asked Vyse.

“Do it, already!” he said through gritted teeth, as Harry struggled and nearly hit Ron in the nose with the back of his thrashing head.

After what seemed like an endless stream of water Ron stopped them.

“Harry? You okay?”

“Wh-what?” came Harry’s voice, sounding so small it didn’t sound like him at all. “Ron? What… What happened?”

“You fucking spelled Kevin into the wall and now we’re down a man!” spat Theold.

“I… I what?” asked Harry.

He looked feeble and lost. Ron had seen Harry like this only a few times. When he spoke Parseltongue in second year. When he’d seen Cedric die. When he’d seen Dad nearly die. When Sirius was dead. When he’d held Dobby.

He might have been reliving those nights.

“It’s okay. He’ll be fine,” Ron assured him.

Harry’s eyes shifted his way, haunted, glossy and unsure. Then Ron’s arms were holding nothing. His friend was gone in an instant.

Ron stared at the spot where Harry had just been.

The vest had taken Harry out of the Exam.

“What the fuck?!”

“Looks like they realised he was a harm to himself and others,” snorted Theold.

“SHUT THE FUCK UP, THEOLD!” Ron snarled.

A sear of vitriol scorched his insides until nothing was left but a burning hot coal.

Who were the Aurors to decide to take Harry away? Who was going to be there for Harry when he’d had to listen to Merlin knows what? They’d ripped him away and Ron had barely begun to comfort him. Had they put this snarl of Boggart dust on purpose?

Every bit of hate he’d felt now pointed in one direction: The Auror Department.

He was going to destroy them. He didn’t know how long it’d take, but he was going to dismantle them, and every one of their sick tests. He wouldn’t rest until every single person responsible for the fucked up nightmares he and Harry, and even fucking Ramona, had gone through, paid.

“Should… What should we do?” Claudia asked.

Ron glared at the group the moment eyes turned to him. “Stop fucking looking at me! I don’t know, okay?”

He stalked away from them.

He was sick and fucking tired of this stupid fucking exam, and all of them gormlessly staring at him every time they don’t know what to do.

They were still watching him in anticipation.

“Why don’t you come up with some ideas, eh? The one person who always knows what to do got fucking tortured and ripped out of here to wherever the fuck, and I’m—” He gripped his arms around himself and squeezed until his ribs ached. “I’m no one, and you’re looking at me like I have answers! I don’t have any fucking answers! I’m fucking tired and this is fucked. We’re fucked and —”

He stopped himself, seeing their faces for the first time since Harry’s disappearance. They were watching him with large eyes, not one of them moving.

They were scared.

He couldn’t stay angry.

Harry was supposed to be invincible. Hell, to them, they probably thought Ron was a bit invincible too— which still felt like putting on a jacket two sizes too small. Ramona was one of their toughest and she was still crying and rocking on the ground.

They were all shook by it.

And now that he’d yelled at them, they probably were a touch worried they’d need to have Ron in ropes like Harry.

He let out a sigh. “Okay…”

He rolled his neck, trying to buy a moment to think.

“I’m sorry… It’s okay, we’re not fucked.”

He fleetingly wished he could touch his face. He hadn’t realised how often he wiped his hands over his face and through his hair as he thought. He wanted to push on his head and hopefully wring out a wild hare idea like one would a wet towel.

“We need to get out of this hole in the ground.”

“And we’ll need to take a moment to recover,” said Vyse with a tiny nod at Ramona.

“Right,” said Ron, taking a steadying breath. No one knew what she’d been through, but he had the closest idea of it.

He didn’t like her. Not one bit. She hated him and Harry for no reason and was surly, rude, prideful, irrational; just about everything he disdained… but she’d clearly been through something terrible.

“You lot go on up. I’ll sort things out here.”

All the recruits quickly did as he said, leaving him with Ramona; All, save Neville.

“Nev…” Ron began.

“I’m only here as back up,” he said, putting his hands up and wedging himself in the far corner.

He wasn’t sure how much Neville could do if Ramona were to go full feral on him at close proximity, but he appreciated the gesture.

He decided approaching Ramona like a wounded animal was best. He’d been around a skittish animal or two over the years. He wasn’t great with beasts, but he could try.

Despite knowing she’d probably hate him more for it, he knelt down beside her and put a hand on her shoulder. She twitched but let it remain as sobs continued to shake through her.

“They got the powder off of you, right?”

She nodded and gave a vociferous sniff.

“I know it may be hard, but you need to stop thinking about things from the past. Think of right now, this moment.”

Her face seems to crumple further and her eyebrows scrunched together.

“Don’t try to be nice to me! You hate me!” she cried.

“I don’t hate you,” Ron said, but couldn’t stop himself from adding. “I don’t particularly like you- but—”

“No- you should hate me,” she said with a shake of her head, scowl turning ugly and slightly unhinged, “because I hate you! You and Potter.”

“Shock and horror, what a surprise!” Ron feigned, rolling his eyes.

“I’m only sorry they didn’t kick you out with crazy Potter.”

Ron immediately dropped all pretence of politeness.

“What the fuck is wrong with you!?” He looked to the ceiling. “Was your Dad a Death Eater or something? Fucking hell…”

A sharp, almost manic laugh escaped from Ramona's lips. "My dad isn't anything anymore."

Ron's confusion deepened, his anger momentarily clouded by her cryptic statement.

"Okay?" he responded, concern and exasperation uncomfortably mixing together.

She brooded on the ground, no answer forthcoming. Fuck it.

“At the end of this exam, either I never have to see you again or we’re going to be co workers. Either way, I’m over this. What is it, Ramona? You said you hate me and Harry— so why? What the fuck have we ever done to you?”

Ramona's gaze bore into his, her eyes holding a world of pain and resentment.

“You’ve never done anything!” she yelled, acid and venom in every syllable.

“What does that mean?!” he roared back.

“It means you are the biggest disappointments I’ve ever had to meet!” she bit. “September first last year. Do you remember what you did that day?”

Of course he remembered. Every instant he could perfectly recall, until he was splinched; then it all got rather blurry.

He nodded his head, but began to dread what might come out of her mouth.

“You lot saved the Cattermoles. The Joneses. Cynthia Dooley. Robbie Reins. And more! I know the name of every person you saved that day,” she said with a sniff. “My parents are both Muggleborn… And my Dad reported to the Muggleborn Commission Registry September the first, but he didn’t escape.”

Ron’s stomach dropped.

“When we realised Dad wasn’t coming back, the rest of us ran for it. My Muggle-born mum, myself and my little sister…” Her voice trembled with emotion.

“I was so stupid… I really thought you might help my family like you did the rest. I kept telling my little sister you three were going to end the war. That we’d be safe. You’d save dad eventually!”

She turned her head down to her lap.

“They captured my sister and took her back to Hogwarts. That’s when they killed Mum,” she said, almost conversationally.

“I listened to Potterwatch every day hoping you might do something to help. Maybe free prisoners from Azkaban, strike the Ministry again, or free everyone from Hogwarts. Anything to help!”

Big tears formed in her eyes.

“But you never did.”

Shame wasn't a new feeling to Ron; he felt it daily for over a decade. It was a heavy cloak he'd worn since his earliest memories, a cloak woven from threads of poverty, indifference, and perceived inadequacy.

Growing up poor in the cramped Burrow, he had often felt the sting of shame as his hand-me-down clothes bore the marks of his older brothers' wear. There was an ever-present whisper in the back of his mind, telling him he was the unwanted sixth boy when his mother had secretly yearned for a daughter. The weight of shame had pressed even harder when he compared himself to his accomplished siblings and friends. And there were the insecurities he carried with him into adulthood. The gnawing fear he was never enough, not as a wizard, not as a friend, not even as a person. The lurking doubt he was merely a sidekick to Harry, forever in his shadow. The dread he'd never live up to the expectations of his friends, his family, or himself.

A litany of inadequacies played in his mind every day, echoing the voices of those who had ever doubted him.

Ramona's tears fell, and her words found a familiar dwelling place among the many shadows of shame that already haunted him. He wanted to explain, to tell her how much he'd wanted to do all those things she'd hoped for, but the words caught in his throat.

He had a wider group of people he’d let down than ever before. How many more people were out there cursing him for not doing enough?

Neville, who had been listening quietly, interjected, “Ramona… They did help. They were the most responsible for ending the war.”

“Not in time!” Ramona pressed on, her words heavy with pain. “My sister was tortured in that school— Dad got a Dementor’s kiss a couple of weeks before the Battle at Hogwarts. If they’d done something my dad might still be… be my dad.”

“Ramona…” Neville insisted. “It’s terrible what happened to your family. But this is not on Ron or Harry or Hermione. They’re just teenagers and it was a — ”

“Just teenagers?” Ramona spat, eyes falling to Ron. “I thought maybe… maybe you were ‘just teenagers’ when I finally met you at the first exam. I thought maybe I had been delusional, thinking anyone as entitled and lazy as you could be a hero… But then I saw you duel, how you flew, and how you lead…”

She shook her head.

“You’re not ‘just some teens!’ I’ve seen you! You’re amazing in the field. It’s like watching real-life superheroes… You broke into the Ministry, and Gringott’s and Hogwarts and saved so many families. You’re good and smart, and I had to watch as you helped family after family, but never mine!”

“That’s enough!” Neville said standing up. “You know that’s not fair, right? To expect them to save everyone?”

“They could've saved my family!” Her hard look crumbled and Ron wondered how young she was. She looked small and he found all the lingering anger at Ramona became brittle as tears welled in her eyes. “S-someone could’ve…”

Ron slowly slid down next to her.

"I’m sorry…” said Ron, not exactly sure what he meant by it. It was everything and nothing. It was a condolence for someone who had lost so much. It was an apology for not doing enough to end the war sooner. It was empty words to soothe someone whose anger and mourning he could endlessly empathise with. It was a place holder so he didn’t shout at the injustice of it all, or the injustice of being blamed. “I’m sorry we couldn’t do more.”

“Don’t apologise, Ron,” said Neville, voice surprisingly stern. “You did what you could, and it was so much… You don’t have a thing to apologise for.”

Part of Ron wanted to agree and tell Ramona off for her delusions. What did she think he was? How could she think him capable of saving her family? It was completely demented!

But… But he still wished he could’ve done it. Even if it was barmy and unrealistic and impossible…

And he had to wonder, how many other families had they let down? How many other people died or had their lives destroyed because they took too long gathering Horcruxes?

“So…” Ron managed to say through a tight voice. “Is it just you and your sister, now?”

“My dad’s not dead… I take care of him when his nurse can’t. That's why I was late for this exam—we’d run out of catheters and it was a huge mess, and then he puked, and I couldn't leave my sister alone with that. His nurse didn't show up because of a flat tire, and— and…”

“That sounds like a lot," Neville's voice cut through, a mix of understanding and sympathy. If anyone could understand ‘losing’ a parent, but they’re still alive, it was Neville.

Ramona nodded, her tears continuing to fall, and for a moment, amidst the pain and regret, a fragile connection formed between them all.

“Shall we join the others?” asked Neville.

Ron nodded while Ramona bit her lip.

“I don’t know how useful I can be, right now,” she said, voice smaller than he’d ever heard it.

“Ramona,” said Ron, standing up with a small groan. “You’re strong; tough as shit and mean as a fucking bag of rabid badgers. Let’s use that and end this exam, okay? Then you can throw darts at my photo or whatever you do in your spare time.”

Somehow that made her snort and a small smile flickered across her face.

“So… are you ready to kick arse?” he asked, finally noticing how sore his shoulders were from stooping.

She nodded and accepted a ride on his broom to the surface level.

“All good?” asked Vyse as they squinted into the sunny street.

“Yeah,” said Ron, giving his body one more Aguamenti before removing the bubble charm.

They were expectantly watching him, but this time he had a plan, a clear mind, and a fiery coal of hate against the Ministry keeping him going.

“Claudia, did you put a tracking mark on the Squid?”

She nodded the affirmative and did a Point Me spell.

“Brilliant. Okay we can hunt it down properly, now,” he said looking at his map. “When we were underground we weren’t able to hurt the Squid, except the red window. Harry managed to crack it. We need to break it to pieces and get the Aurors to leave the Squid.”

“Why would they leave it?” asked Ramona. “It can defend everything we throw at it.”

“Only if the arms are moving,” he said. “For a second, as the tunnel collapsed, an arm got stuck. If we get its arms stuck and bust through the window, we can get them.”

“It burrowed into the ground last time. Is there a way to prevent that from happening again?” asked Vyse.

“At the corner of the map,” said Ron, expanding the shrunk map from his arm for all to see and pointed to a spot. “Harry and I got to the edge and hit an invisible barrier. I’d wager the Squid can’t get past it either.”

“And once we get the Aurors out?” asked Theold.

“We need to split the Aurors up. If we get them in the open, we might stand a chance.”

“If they’re an easier target out in the open, we are too,” noted Neville. The corners didn’t offer much cover either.

“Then we’ll have given them a bloody good show for their money.”

The group grinned at one another.

“That’s all they want anyways,” Ron added in an undertone.

In minutes, the plan was in motion, and the recruits were positioned. Vyse and Ramona soared through the air on their brooms to strategically herd the Squid toward the designated corner of the map.

Ron, Neville, Theold, and Claudia waited with bated breath for the moment the Squid would come their way.

The waiting was absolutely interminable, and soon bated breaths turned to sighs and huffs.

The high sun had shifted and the shadows were growing long across the alley.

Standing at the ready in their buildings made his shoulders ache and hands twitch for something to do. The stillness of waiting let his exhaustion slowly take over. He was counting bricks to stay awake, when a tiny lone beetle landed on the sill.

The black beetle marched along, swaying to and fro as a small breeze tried to buffet it about. Its little legs made it positively waddle.

He let out a snort, and Claudia began to watch it too, an amused look on her face.

The two let out a small laugh as the beetle tripped over a nail and fell over, its small legs wildly flailing for purchase.

“Oh no,” Claudia let out, trying to poke it off its back without touching its little insect legs. Her compassion for the little bug reminded him of Hermione; she was always cooing at gross little things.

He told as much to Claudia as he pushed the beetle over for her, not minding touching it. Somehow beetles weren’t the same as spiders.

“She had a soft spot for Kreacher even, and he’d been calling her slurs for years!” laughed Ron.

“How did you and Hermione get together?” Claudia asked, a sappy look on her face he’d seen girls get about anything remotely romantic.

“Dazzled her with my good looks and charm,” he joked, watching the beetle nestle down and take a rest, no doubt exhausted from its time flailing.

Neville let out a snort.

Claudia watched Ron expectantly, a broad smile on her face.

“Well, maybe it wasn’t entirely those,” he conceded with a small laugh.

“Those two were dancing around each other for years,” said Neville with a rueful shake of his head. “We thought sixth year it’d happen. Dean, Seamus and I had a betting pool and everything.”

“Sorry to disappoint,” said Ron. “Eventually I got my head out of my arse… ”

“How long have you been together?” asked Claudia.

“Only a month or so, but I’ve been mad about her for years. I mean, she’s brilliant and beautiful and has this wicked passion about every single thing she does. And she’s fucking brave, it’s unbelievable. She sacrificed so much during the war, but even before, she’s the most kickarse witch I’ve ever met.”

Theold rolled his eyes while Neville and Claudia grinned at him.

His cheeks reddened as he realised how much a gushing sap he was being.

“Anyway, that’s part of why I’m joining the Aurors; so I can help her out when we get our signing bonus.”

“That’s so sweet!” Claudia sighed, her curiosity sated.

“Didn’t you win the Order of Merlin?” asked Theold. “You get thousands of galleons with that— no need for a piddly signing bonus.”

Ron’s head swung round to look at Theold. He didn’t seem to be joking.

“Yeah, my gran said something like that,” Neville confirmed with a nod.

“Oh…” said Ron, not sure how to respond. Did he not need the Auror money after all? The thought of having his own money was nice… but he wasn’t sure he liked it coming from his time in the war…

“How ‘bout you? Why are you joining up?” he asked Claudia, happy to have the attention away from his money matters and his soppiness for his girlfriend.

Claudia gave an embarrassed look.

“I don’t know… I just… The war was terrible, and I didn’t feel like I got to help the way I wanted.” Her posture slowly fell.

“How so?” asked Neville.

“When I read history books, I’d sometimes sit and think ‘ohhh if I had lived in that time period, I would have helped lead a rebel cause, or saved people!’ I thought very grandly of myself… But I didn’t do much of anything and didn’t know how to. I only worked at a farm with rescue animals. I wasn’t part of anything…”

“What kind of animals?”

“All kinds of magical pets— cats, owls, goats, rats— you name them. During the war there were so many animals homeless or hurt. That’s how I got good at tracking spells, and it didn’t hurt with my flying either. We’d get a floo or owl telling us about an abandoned animal, and I’d go in to retrieve it then rehab the animal, if needed,” she said with a shrug. “But I wasn’t like you or your friends. I didn’t save anyone.”

“Sounds like you saved a lot of someone’s pets, though,” said Neville. “I’m sure all those pets’ owners would be happy to know they were in good hands.”

She glumly leaned against the window.

“Not everyone is going to be on the front lines, but you were where you were needed,” said Ron. “If something happened to me, I’d want to know my little Pig was okay.”

“You own a pig?” Theold asked.

“Ooo really?” squealed Claudia.

“Oh! No, that’s my owl,” Ron snorted. The rest of the recruits shared grins. “Don’t look at me like that, my little sister named him.”

“I didn’t say anything!” she laughed.

“Pushover,” said Theold, a vaguely amused look on his face.

“You know… You’re a lot less scary than you seem in the papers,” said Claudia.

“I seem scary?” Ron asked, flabbergasted that anyone could find him intimidating, let alone that he had a reputation for it.

“Mhmm!” she brightly hummed. “The pictures all make you look brooding, and the papers all write about ‘eight foot tall Weasley and his terrible temper’— how you were like a fearsome bodyguard for Harry.”

Bemused, Ron continued to look at the beetle. Him? Brooding and fearsome? He’d only skimmed a few articles before chucking them in a fury, but hadn’t imagined something like that…

“I mean, you are unreasonably tall,” added Theold with a snort from the corner.

“And you definitely can be scary when you’re mad, but… You’re nice. And smart. They didn’t say anything about that.”

He gave a small grunt. Of course they didn’t. “Maybe they called me a smart arse.”

“Your plans have been smashing,” she said with certainty. “If I don’t get to be an Auror… It’s been nice getting to know you.”

“I’m sure you’ll pass. You’ve done really well.”

“Nothing like you.”

Unsure of how to answer, Ron looked to the ceiling. It was cracked and peeling.

He wished he knew how to comfort her, but as usual he wasn’t sure what to do. Ron wasn’t good with words. Funny asides he was okay at… With Harry and Hermione at least.

“If I learned one thing,” he began, trying to comb out a good way to say it, “comparing your achievements with others only leads to heartache. Believe me, I had six siblings and Harry fucking Potter as measuring sticks for years.”

She let out a small laugh.

“Okay, that helps,” she acknowledged. “What about you, Theold? Why are you joining?”

“Because I’d be awesome at it.”

“Come on! Why really?”

He gave a shrug. “Sometimes it’s not that deep. I would be awesome at it.”

“Theooold,” Claudia complained.

“Ask Longbottom.”

“Fine! Neville? Why are you joining?”

Neville thought about it in silence before answering, “this seems like where I’m needed.”

Neville and Ron shared a smile.

“See? Not everyone is a mushy sap like Weasley,” said Theold with a sly smile.

Ron was about to protest when their wrists heated.

‘Nearly there! -Vyse’

Ron shooed the beetle away. “Get out of here, little guy. Don’t want you getting crushed in the upcoming duels.”

With a few pushes of his finger, the beetle buzzed off.

Wands at the ready, they crouched. His thighs twitched like coiled springs, and the agonised suspense took over him. A strange cocktail of fatalistic relief and a blaze of resentment surged within him as the Squid approached. He hated every person in that thing…

He heard the Squid before he saw it. Each step it took viciously crunched into the ground.

Through a small crack in the wall he spied the tiny figures of Vyse and Ramona weaving a path behind the Squid on their brooms like a pair of herding dogs in a field. The moment the Squid turned down an alley, they’d zip to the other side and head it off.

The earth trembled into a chaotic dance as the Squid stampeded down the alley, its metallic appendages thrashing.

“NOW!” Ron's command cut through the chaos, and the recruits launched themselves into action.

Cobblestones exploded, and rubble flew as Ron and Claudia threw forward their ropes. The thick cables wrapped along the length of one of the Squid arms. Its arm was secured to the concrete barriers in the street.

Meanwhile, Theold and Neville did the same to the other side, leaving two arms of the Squid stretched tight.

The ropes strained and the bestial Squidroom thrashed and groaned at the effort.

The ground-recruits fled as Vyse and Ramona flew around the remaining tentacle-like legs and tied them off.

“GET CLEAR!” Neville yelled as he and Theold set off the explosive spells.

The percussive blast sent rubble flying, and if not for shield charms, Ron might have had his skull split by a flying chunk of cement the size of a quaffle.

The buildings on either side of the Squid remained standing for only a moment before collapsing in a sea of dust and particulates, locking the Squid in place.

He could barely see the Aurors inside, but none were standing after the impact to the Squid.

This was their chance.

“THE WINDOW!” Ron bellowed.

As one, the recruits aimed their spells at the blood-red glass. Unable to dodge or deflect spells, the already cracked window shattered.

The recruits continued the assault on the jagged window, but soon spells met theirs, and the Aurors emerged.

A white-hot spell snapped through the air and nearly hit Ron in the temple. He pulled his head back and nearly lost his balance behind a pillar.

He activated his watch:

‘Split up! -Ron’

Ramona and Theold converged like a whirlwind on Sealy-Pearce. Across the fray, Robards squared off against Vyse and Neville, a furious tempest of spells erupting around them.

Claudia ran towards Ron when a red spell hit her from behind. She gave the smallest of ‘eeps’ before her vest disappeared along with her.

Behind her disappearing form, wand raised, stood Musaad.

Spells blazed through the air, creating a kaleidoscope of magic as recruits fought tooth and nail against the fierce Aurors. And then there was Ron. He had no partner. It was him against the best dueller he’d ever met. He was on his own, and in the open.

‘Get to cover! Get to cover!’ raced through his mind.

He ran.

Ron scrambled across the rubble-covered cobblestones, his movements far from agile as he evaded the barrage.

He blindly cast a stinging hex. It must have hit its mark, for Musaad gave a grunt. Despite any injury, Musaad didn’t slow an iota.

Ron had to climb over a downed wall on all fours to avoid a crack of spells. The jagged stones clawed at his palms, but he ignored the discomfort, his sole focus on reaching the nearby building.

Spells crashed all around, and shards of debris tore and whirled around him.

He finally reached the building and hurled himself through the shattered doorway. The room was a dim, wooden chamber with peeling wallpaper, and offered minimal cover. He realised, with a sinking feeling, that he'd be a sitting—

‘DUCK!’ the command echoed in his ears as his instincts took over.

He dropped to the floor as a lethal bolt of magic snapped viciously beside him. The spell collided with the cracked wall, sending splinters raining down like deadly raindrops. A fair few punctured his arm and he let out a hiss.

Ron's heart raced as he scrambled to his feet, wand in hand.

“Fuck!” he let out as a purple spell was hurled his way.

He flicked his wand, barely conjuring a shield in time.

Musaad's assault rebounded off the barrier, unleashing a shockwave through the room's walls. Wooden beams groaned, and dust and debris filled the air like a choking fog.

The scent of scorched wood and ozone hung heavy in the air as Ron crouched behind his meagre flickering shield. He couldn't last long staying pinned down like this.

Seconds seemed stretched into agonising minutes as Ron tried to formulate a plan.

He didn’t have the element of surprise on his side. They weren’t trapped in the confines of a duelling ring — Musaad was free-range and relentless!

Ron’s breaths came in ragged gasps as the shield's surface flickered, its strength waning with every spell Musaad hurled his way.

‘Move it, Weasley!’

With a surge of determination, he threw the shield towards Musaad and cast a Conjunctivitus curse, temporarily blinding the man. Ron tried to bolt deeper into the building, but the floorboards creaked with each heavy step and Musaad quickly spelled him through an already crumbling wall, inches away from hitting a brick fireplace. Damn, he needed to avoid hard surfaces… Or did he?

His body ached and protested, but he pushed himself from the ground and ran further into the building. Ron managed to send a few spells back at Musaad. One spell grazed Musaad's shoulder, leaving a searing mark on his robe, while another sunk Musaad’s feet into a swamp-like mire, buying Ron precious seconds to widen the space between them.

If he could get Musaad in close quarters with hard surfaces, Ron might be able to beat him. If he missed with a precision spell, at least Musaad might get thrown into something that could incapacitate him.

"Where's... A... Fucking... Bathroom?!" he muttered to himself. his frantic search taking him from room to room.

Musaad's spells pursued him relentlessly, each one an intimidating reminder of his adversary's expertise. The gap between them was closing fast. Musaad prowled after his prey with precision and didn’t even seem winded, while Ron flailed and felt his lungs burning to shreds.

For an instant he dared to look back as he ran up the stairs.

“Weasley, you can’t keep running,” said Musaad, a glint of mirth in his eyes.

Ron burst through another door, finding himself in yet another narrow wooden hallway.

And then, at last, he found it.

An old, tiled bathroom stood before him, complete with a porcelain tub and sink; it was the perfect battleground.

Musaad sent a quick series of hexes Ron’s way, and he narrowly blocked them, but was forcibly thrown into the room across from the bathroom.

The room was cluttered with overturned furniture and shattered remnants of what once might have been a bedroom.

His breath came in ragged gasps as he regained his footing. With unsure movements he began to cast the unfamiliar spell. He’d just finished swiping his want through the air, when it was wrenched from his hand.

Musaad had taken up the doorway and disarmed him, easily catching Ron’s wand.

“Looks like you’re disarmed, Weasley.”

“Looks like it,” said Ron, slowly rising as Musaad’s wand was pointed at his chest.

“Hands up,” said Musaad, doing a small indication with his wand. Ron complied, slowly raising his hands, his fingers trembling with fatigue. Blood trickled from a small cut on his forehead, mingling with the sweat clinging to his brow.

“You’ve been a worthy opponent,” said Musaad, raising his wand and taking a deliberate step forward into the room.

Musaad’s foot landed on a floorboard that twisted and whipped him across the hall like a slingshot. Musaad crashed back-first into the porcelain tub, a loud groan escaping his lips as the wands slipped from his grasp and clattered to the ground.

With a ferocity born of desperation, Ron ran at him. He didn’t bother going for the wands— he let his fist fly. Pain seared through his hand, and he was fairly certain he'd broken a knuckle, but the satisfaction of seeing Musaad's condescending smirk wiped away was worth the agony.

Musaad finally lay still, face punchdrunk and unfocused.

Ron tapped the shield badge on Musaad's chest with his trembling fingers, activating the portkey spell that would send his adversary to the same unknown destination Harry had been sent earlier.

As Musaad disappeared in a snarl of magical light, Ron spat a glob of blood onto the floor, his chest heaving with exertion and triumph.

He tiredly bent and picked up his wand.

There was a calming chime, like a muted gong. A disembodied female voice, much like the lifts in the Ministry Lobby announced, “The third Combat Readiness Exam is now over. Prepare for evacuation.”

He only had time to blink before he felt the twist and pull of the vest taking him back to the Auror Department.

He expected to see a room full of recruits and Aurors. He expected to see Harry and Kevin and Claudia waiting. He expected the mirrors watching him and quills recording his every move. He expected someone there to help with his plentiful, but thankfully minor, injuries.

Instead, Ron was met with a dingy dark grey room with a lone bed against the wall, a side table and a toilet in the corner. He tried the door, but it was locked.

He performed a series of spells but Anti-Apparition spells were in place and nothing he knew would work.

“Hello?” he hoarsely called through the door, hitting the door with the fat of his fist. “Anyone there?”

No one answered him, but a pitcher of water and a cup appeared on the small table.

Suddenly, the disembodied voice was back: “Greetings Recruit, Interviews for the Fourth and Final Combat Readiness Exam have begun. When your interview time is near you will be released into the antechamber.

“Fucking ‘course they think locking us in solitary is a good idea,” Ron muttered.

He glanced at his watch but it was dented and the time was stuck at one sixteen in the morning.

“Do you have any injuries, Recruit?” asked the voice.

“I don’t know.” he rasped. Only the sound of ‘no’ must have registered because no one responded to his answer. It took at least a minute before he felt in his body enough to know if he had any injuries. He had a series of splinters up and down his left arm

Ron went to the pitcher and poured a glass. It was then he realised his wand hand’s finger didn’t want to bend around the glass. He must’ve either jammed it or broken it; he’d never quite been sure how to tell one from the other. He could do spells with his left hand, but didn’t quite trust the non-dominant hand to do something like heal bones.

Too tired and angry to worry about the interview, he drank his fill, took a piss, then sat back on the bed, picking splinters out of his arm. He was filthy and in dire need of a shower. His clothes began to cool and stiffen with sweat, and soon he was shivering.

The grime of battle still clung to him, and he felt a desperate need for a cleansing shower.

Restlessly, he attempted to find solace in a thin blanket. It offered little comfort or warmth. Micronaps, brief and fragmented, beckoned like distant islands of respite in a sea of exhaustion. Each time he slipped into the realm of sleep, he awoke with a start, the remnants of his nightmares with the Boggart dust haunting him.

He couldn't discern how much time had passed when the door to his cell finally swung open, its hinges creaking. With wary caution, Ron edged closer to the doorway.

The room he entered was a stark contrast to the cold, featureless cell. Warm wooden panels adorned the walls, radiating a sense of comfort that felt foreign after the ordeal he'd endured. His gaze fell upon Neville and Ramona

"Hey!" Neville greeted him, offering a weary but genuine smile.

Ron nodded in acknowledgment. "Were you stuck in a grey cell too?

"They let me out a moment ago," Neville confirmed, his voice tinged with relief.

“What time is it?”

“Search me,” Neville said, holding up his own damaged watch. “Got smashed and I’m rotten at repairing anything with mechanics.”

Ramona held up Vyse’s lucky coin and a bit of string. “It’s not a watch anymore.”

“Who made it to the end?” asked Ron.

“We’re all that’s left,” replied Neville.

“They okay?”

Neville gave a helpless shrug. “I have to assume so. Vyse got hit with a spell, then zipped away. I don’t know what happened to Theold.”

“The Squid got loose and pinned him, then he disappeared,” said Ramona.

Ron walked around the room checking each door. He was concerned for everyone, but most of all Harry. There was no sign of life beyond long-abandoned beds and drinking glasses with sips of water left.

“I’m sure Harry’s okay,” said Neville.

Ron shook his head. “I wouldn’t trust the Aurors with the care and feeding of a rock…”

Ramona gave a small snort.

“Are either of you any good with episkey? I think I broke my knuckle on Musaad’s chin,” he said, holding up a purpling knuckle. His finger could only marginally wiggle, but couldn’t hold anything or go into a fist.

“That’s not the same hand as earlier, right?” asked Neville, holding up his wand.

Ron made a hardy attempt to temper his glare. “No.”

Neville said the spell, and Ron’s knuckle gave a gross ‘pop.’

“Son-of-a-bitch!” Ron hissed in pain, but soon it was only a dull ache. “How about you? Any broken bits you need healed?”

Neville shook his head. “Surprisingly unscathed! Bruised as all out, but I have some okay bruise paste at home.”

Ron gave a grunt of approval, then looked to Ramona. She was wane and pale, but had a foreboding glare clearly telling him ‘fuck off and die terribly, if you please.’

“How about you?” Ron asked, despite himself.

Her glare softened the smallest amount. “The same ankle I hurt in the second exam is sore.”

“Need me to wrap it?”

She bit her lip, then nodded in assent.

He worked quickly and quietly. The ankle was swollen, but not nearly the purple mess it had been a few days prior.

“Thank you,” she quietly said as he was midway wrapping her ankle.

He nearly dropped her foot in surprise.

“Er… You’re welcome.”

Thankfully he had set her foot on the ground when she continued surprising him.

“You…” she began. “You helped me today. And the last exam.”

Unsure of what to say he opted to say nothing.

“That’s pretty par for the course for Ron and his friends,” said Neville, words more weighty than he let on.

A door opened and out came Sealy-Pearce, posture as straight as ever.

“Weasley. It’s time for your interview,” she said, face devoid of any emotion.

Neville gave his shoulder a squeeze and Ron promptly stood.

“Good luck,” said Ramona. She was unsmiling, but he could tell she meant it.

The corridor they went down was narrow, and his shoulder nearly caught on a torch as they passed by.

“Is Harry okay?” he asked her.

“He’s uninjured.”

That wasn’t the same as being okay, he wanted to argue, but he held his tongue.

Sealy-Pearce said nothing as she led the way, which was fine by Ron. He never was good at small talk with authority figures— not that they typically took much time with him anyways. Perhaps he hadn’t had the chance to practise.

Either way, he knew the simmering rage he felt towards the whole department wouldn’t be able to kept in check for long. It was best he held his tongue, grit his teeth and pushed down every swear and insult scrambling to break free.

They finally entered a small room that looked more like a place of interrogation than an ‘interview.’ It probably was an interrogation room. Behind a long wooden table sat Musaad, Robards, the Auror he had taken out on the roof, and another female Auror he didn’t recognize. They left an empty seat on the end Sealy-Pearce promptly filled.

“Take a seat, Weasley,” said Robards, waving a hand to reveal a wooden chair behind a small table with a pitcher and glass of water.

He sat, and immediately realised the chair was terribly uncomfortable. The back was too low, and the seat managed to slide back in an angle that made his tailbone hurt.

Ron stood, waved his wand and made it more his size and sat back down. If he was going to be fucked with, he’d at least do it without a sore arse.

“Water?” asked Robards.

“No thanks,” said Ron, trying to figure out where to lay his hands. On the table? In his lap?

“That was quite a show you put on in the exam,” said Robards, a wry smile on his face. “Quite a show… Musaad and Sealy-Pearce had said you were good, but I was impressed. We hadn’t heard much of you before this. Usually there are rumblings if someone has potential, but I didn’t hear anything about you from Hogwarts. Why is that?”

Ron clenched his fist and tried to convince his face not to flush. His face gave him the middle finger and slowly began turning him red, one centimetre at a time.

“I don’t know much about how ‘rumblings’ work,” Ron said, a small shrug.

He found himself rather impressed with his answer. He’d sounded sort of cool and nonchalant, in a way he rarely felt. The feeling of calm abated when he saw the unimpressed look on Robards face.

“Would you care to expand on that?”

Fuck.

“I dunno…” he said with a small cough.

He didn’t know what to tell them. All he could think of is things he probably shouldn’t say. Ron knew he probably shouldn’t say it was because he’d never been noticed a day in his life. He probably shouldn’t say he was useless compared to everyone else. He probably shouldn’t say they were putting him on the fucking spot and could eat a bag of dicks.

“Have some water, Weasley,” said Robards.

He promptly took a drink, and used it to buy more time. The water had a slightly acrid taste to it that made him wish for better water to wash it down with.

He had done things at Hogwarts… He’d never done them all that well, but he’d done things! He’d helped Hermione and Harry get across the chess board. He’d gone to the Ministry. He’d fought Death Eaters… He’d tried. And he’d obviously done alright in these trials.

“Maybe ‘rumblings’ aren’t much compared to people actually doing things?” Ron asked, scrambling to put his thoughts together and finishing off his glass of water.

“I mean, Neville’s obviously good enough to be an Auror, but I don’t think there were ‘rumblings’ before last year with him. But he was bloody brilliant at the Ministry in fifth year, and in sixth year he was there fighting off Death Eaters too.”

A few of the Aurors nodded, but Musaad bent forward. “This isn’t about Longbottom. This is about you.”

“I know that,” said Ron, irritation growing. “I’m not sure how I’m supposed to tell you why I was underestimated by people. That’s on you, isn’t it?”

He nearly slapped a hand over his mouth. He had to say the wrong thing.

Musaad leaned back in his chair, a hint of a smile on his face.

"Your performance today suggests you have the skills," Robards conceded. "But being an Auror is about more than skills. It's about dedication, teamwork, and a commitment to upholding the law. Do you feel you’d be capable of that?”

“Yes… I mean, I hope so,” said Ron with a shrug. “I’m… I try to be there for people. And if a law is a good one, then yeah, I’d commit to upholding it.”

“Sometimes you’ll be asked to uphold laws you don’t agree with,” said Sealy-Pearce, her face unreadable.

“Like the ones Voldemort put in place last year?” Immediately scowls turned his way. Ron averted his eyes. “If the Ministry has just laws, I’ll do my best. If it falls to hell again… That’s a different story.”

“What would you do?” she asked.

“Probably the same as last year,” he said, squinting at her and leaning back.

“Would you like to tell us more about your actions in the last year?” asked Robards.

Ron knew he’d have to tread carefully. The last year had more secrets than he thought himself capable of holding.

“Erm… What part do you want to know about?”

“We know you didn’t go to Hogwarts last year. Had a clever ruse with the ghoul taking your place,” said Robards, a genial smile on his face. “Was that your work or Arthur’s?”

“My idea, but my dad helped a bit with the spells.”

A few of the Aurors nodded in approval.

“So before you were captured at Malfoy Manor, what were you doing? I’m assuming you were part of the Ministry break in?”

“I was.”

“Why did you break in?”

“We needed to retrieve an object.”

Ron’s fingers tightened into the slight folds on the side of his trousers.

He wondered how much they knew of what he’d been up to with Harry and Hermione. Was this line of questioning about Ron and further proving his abilities by describing his record?

“What was this object?” asked Robards, genial mood slowly slipping into something more pointed and eager.

Were they fishing for more information about Horcruxes? If they were, they were a fat lot of idiots because he would never tell them anything. He’d rather bleed out on the floor and let them have an inkling of anything they wanted.

“A h—” Ron stopped himself. What the fuck? He hadn’t meant to say a thing and he’d nearly said Horcrux. He must have been more tired than he thought. “An object to help stop Voldemort.”

“Was this a Horcrux?” pressed Robards.

“I didn’t ask it,” said Ron.

Robards expression turned glacial.

“You were pretty gabby in the transcripts of your exams, Weasley. Is there a particular reason you’re reticent now?”

“I’m answering your questions,” said Ron, struggling to keep his voice neutral.

Robards leaned forward, his gaze sharpening. "Tell me, Weasley, have you ever had any struggles with your mental health? Stress, anxiety, anything of that sort?"

He knew Robards was trying to throw him with a sudden change in tack. Unfortunately, it was working.

Ron's heart stumbled and he hesitated for a moment, his voice less steady.

“Y-yeah. Sometimes. The last few years I’ve been fighting Death Eaters, I’ve lost people, and my family and friends were in danger… I think I’d be barmy not to have stress and anxiety during that.”

“But what about after? Today you had an extreme reaction to the Boggart dust,” noted Musaad.

“Everyone did,” said Ron, crossing his arms.

“Well, at least you didn’t dangerously blast one of your fellow recruits,” Musaad conceded.

“That wasn’t his fault!” Ron protested, struggling to keep himself in check. “He’s been through more than anyone.”

“Apparently…” Musaad with a small snort.

“Watch it,” Ron warned.

“You seem angry.”

“Of course I am. You’re a bunch of sadists who tortured my friend!”

“We didn’t put Boggart dust in the field,” assured the rooftop Auror. “The breeding den had been underground for years, it seems, growing without our knowledge.”

“Oh like that’s better! You put a bunch of people in danger—”

“None of you were in danger from that Boggart den you stumbled across. The only danger was from your friend,” Musaad added.

“Stop saying that!”

“You could barely restrain him when he was going mad. Are you really saying you don’t think Potter is dangerous under those circumstances?”

“He was but—” Ron cut himself off. He hadn’t meant to say that.

“Have you ever seen Potter behave dangerously before?”

He had to fight to keep himself from saying yes. Why was it so difficult?

“Under the right circumstances anyone can be dangerous!” Ron growled.

“The problem is, you can’t always be there to restrain him.”

“I know that, but—” Ron grit his teeth to cut himself off again. He felt almost compelled to speak.

“And while your loyalty is admirable, as an Auror you’d have to put the needs of your team and your government above your friend. Can you do that?”

Ron was about to snap back ‘probably not,’ when the realisation hit. He let out a bark of laughter and looked to the ceiling.

“Something funny?” Robards asked.

“You lot…” Ron said with another humourless laugh. “You’ve put something in my water and are trying to get a rise out of me. What is it, some sort of Veritaserum?”

“You’re not on—”

“I am,” Ron said surely. He could tell when he had been fucked with. It had happened enough times; the brains when he was sixteen, the love potion when he was seventeen, and then the locket… Add in Boggart dust and he’d had enough of it for a lifetime. His mind wasn’t entirely his to control.

The table mutely stared at him, but Musaad finally answered, “it’s a variant on Veritaserum. Makes you more suggestible to tell the truth, but leaves the speaker able to express themselves with full emotions, and able to hold back the truth if they are very inclined to do so. It’s less detectable than normal truth serum and less unethical as—”

“Less unethical?” Rons snorted. “You lot are nothing but unethical from where I’m sitting.”

“Oh?” Robards asked.

Ron could feel it— the need to tell the truth— the need to tell them off with everything he had. They said he could hold it back if he was very inclined to do so.

Too bad he had no inclination at all to hold back.

“This whole things has been needlessly fucked up. You didn’t properly check the place for dangers like the Boggart dust—”

“No one was in danger—” began Robards.

Ron had so many emotions going through his mind, it was hard to pick just one. He decided on livid.

“Mental stuff is dangerous, okay!?” growled Ron. “People’s heads being fucked with is dangerous! And you lot have done it every single exam.”

“As Musaad said, you can hold back what you want to say if you’re so inclined,” said Robards, jaw clenched.

“I’m not, but thanks for that reminder,” Ron said with a shake of his head. “Do you have more questions for me, or can I go?”

Robards gave a supremely displeased look.

“Do you even want to be an Auror?”

“After seeing how you treat recruits? Not really,” Ron curtly replied.

“In that case, do you have any final questions for us?”

Ron thought and stared at the floor before letting his eyes meet theirs.

“I’ve known three great Aurors in my lifetime, and they were all in the Order. Where were you lot? Why didn’t Dumbledore trust you? Were you even helping fight in the war?”

They stonily stared at him, except Musaad who looked away.

“There were many ways to help in this war,” Robards quietly said. He had a glower that should have made Ron nervous, but he didn’t care anymore.

“Right, well, I’ll take my Order of Merlin and shove it, shall I?” he said, rising from his chair. “How’s that for ‘rumblings?’”

“You haven’t been dismissed,” barked Robards.

“You saw what I can do. Either you think I’ll be good at this, or you don’t. I don’t reckon anything I say will change your mind for the better when I’m on truth serum-light. I’ve had enough of this. I’m off.”

Ron went to the door and realised he had no idea how to leave.

“I’ll escort you,” said Musaad, a wry grin on his bearded face.

Ron begrudgingly followed the man out the door, and pointedly ignored the barbed looks the rest of the table were giving him.

He’d utterly ruined his chances of being an Auror, but he felt strangely lighthearted about it. Theold had said he would get money for the Order of Merlin— that could cover his expenses along with his pub job until he could get employment he enjoyed and was proud of.

They were a few metres into the hall when Musaad let out a laugh. Ron stopped walking and stared at him.

He’d let his temper ruin his chances to be an Auror and now Musaad was mocking him. It felt like a most fitting end to a most imperfect day.

“And Robards thought you gave quite a show in the exams,” Musaad laughed. “I must say, Weasley, you’re one of the most interesting recruits I’ve ever met.”

“I’m on truth serum or whatever so you might want to shut up,” said Ron, fists beginning to clench.

“I am not trying to provoke you anymore,” said Musaad, putting his hands up.

“Okay…” Ron crossed his arms and looked down at Musaad. He’d seemed an intimidating figure, but Ron realised just how much smaller Musaad was than himself. “How was Harry, really?”

“I can’t reveal anything from his fourth exam, that’s confidential,” said Musaad, but he continued before Ron could protest. “Right before the exam it was reported to me that he was quite distraught. They sent someone in to check him over for any remaining spores of Boggart dust. He was able to gather himself after knowing Kevin Gunther was fine.”

It wasn’t fully relieving news, but it was better than not knowing anything.

“Thank you…” said Ron. He gave a forceful exhale through pursed lips. “Have I… Did I ruin my chances back there?”

“Oh you want to talk to me now?” asked Musaad.

“Might as well.” Ron shrugged and waited.

Musaad continued down the hall a few paces before he spoke. “Your performance in the first three exams was excellent. The only red flags we had for you were a wild case of insecurity, and you have a tinge of disrespect for authority. Nothing too major, especially given the circumstances… You were probably a shoe-in after exam three.”

“And now?”

“Well, Robards is a proud man… Deserves to be. He did quite a lot to help our side win this war, but from the inside. He has an impeccable record. And you chose to question it in front of his peers and throw your Order of Merlin in his face…”

“So I’m fucked,” Ron said, rubbing his left arm.

“Well, it’s hard to say how he’ll react. We are very hard up on recruits, and it doesn’t hurt that your best friend is one of the most politically powerful people in the Wizarding World. Potter was a bit of an upstart too.”

“He saved everyone’s arses. He deserves to be.”

Musaad nodded, holding Ron’s gaze. “One could argue you deserve to be too. We’re alive and able to interview you both because of the steps you took to end this war. That won’t be forgotten. And I won’t let your very fair reaction to our tests affect your chances if I can.”

“Do you have anything to do with this decision?” Ron asked, a tiny bit of hope scrambling its ways to the front of his mind.

“Yes. I do,” said Musaad before giving a laugh. “And despite how much you very obviously disdain me, I find I like you.”

Ron narrowed his eyes.

“I like what I saw in the field,” Musaad continued, not the least bit intimidated by Ron’s glare. “You’re the kind of person I would want beside me in a battle, and nothing you said in the interview convinced me otherwise. But, at the end of the day, I’m just one vote.”

He stopped walking, and looked Ron in the eyes.

“If this somehow doesn’t work out, feel free to contact me. I want to make sure you have a position somewhere for your skills. I could, perhaps, write a letter or talk to someone. That’s the least you deserve.”

Musaad put out a hand for him to shake, and despite everything, Ron found himself shaking it.

“You’ve got a good nose for tactics. It’s a pretty rare thing in someone so young. It’s been a privilege,” said Musaad, firmly shaking his hand before letting it go and leaving Ron in the locker room.

He changed, but the whole time he had unsure footing similar to when he’d just played a Quidditch game and finally landed on the ground. Everything felt slow and unsteady as he took each step and changed his clothes. The world around him felt like it was vibrating. The tensile pulse still rang in his ears, but he had no idea of where to move and nowhere to walk.

He felt the inexorable urge to run and run until he was far from this underground torture chamber.

He didn’t know if he even wanted to be an Auror anymore… But he didn’t want them telling him he couldn’t be one…

He wished he could say goodbye to the Recruits. He wished he knew how they all did on the exam. He wished to go home and check on Harry, to throw himself into Hermione’s waiting arms, and to maybe have some of his Mum’s cooking. He wished… He wished a lot of things, actually…

But most of all, he wished to sleep in his own bed and wake up not regretting a thing.

“Fat chance of that,” Ron mumbled to himself as he stumbled towards the lifts.

--------------------------------

author's note:

Thank you to everyone who reviews- you all really help motivate me and make me feel tied to other people. Sometimes it's hard to feel a sense of community in my life, but you really give that to me and it means so much!

Next chapter Hermione's POV again.

[wellpresseddaisy]

I never thought I'd be writing anything with James Potter, but 'what if Potters had an...interesting relationship with death' showed up in my dreams last night.

The soft night air blew in through the windows of the bedroom, moonlight making patterns on the walls. James and Sirius lounged together in the dark, one on each end of the deep window seat. They’d let the curtains down to give themselves more privacy.

Sirius looked curiously at James, his friend uncommonly pale after speaking to his father.

“Dad…he said I could tell you…” James stopped, swallowed, and took a deep breath. “He said with the war coming we should both know. Avada Kedavra doesn’t really work on born Potters.”

“What do you mean ‘Avada Kedavra doesn’t work on born Potters’?!” Sirius swallowed convulsively.

“It just…doesn’t, so much?” James shrugged. “I don’t know why, but it’s sort of like Dreamless Sleep for us. Dad didn’t explain more than that.”

“You’re an absolute eldritch horror, you know that, old thing?” His voice shook a little.

“You tell me that every time I turn into Prongs. I can't help being giant and glowy.”

Sirius snorted. “You’re ridiculous, the whole lot of you. Just…I’ll try to remember. I won’t…I won’t let them bury you, Jamie.”

“A house elf will bring me back here to sleep it off, anyway. There’s one with that job every generation, apparently. But, thank you.”

Sirius just blinked and sighed deeply. What was his life, even?

Somewhere in Northumbria, May 1992

James woke slowly, his body sluggishly returning to the land of the living. He stretched and rolled to his side…

And thumped painfully onto the floor.

Lily. Harry.

He had to…where…

He looked up and froze. The ceiling of the chapel soared above him. He had lain on a low plinth before the altar, just as Dad said he might…how many years ago?

“An elf of House Potter. I need an elf.” His voice croaked, but he forced the words out.

“Master Jamie is awake!” One of the elves (he thought it might be Horace) popped in.

“What year is it? Where is Harry? Lily?”

“It is nineteen-ninety-two, Master Jamie. Miss Lily did not survive that night. The elves…the elves do not know where little Master Harry is. The Ministry took him.”

James pulled himself up, disused muscles screaming in protest, and tottered toward the doors.

“Master Jamie, what is you doing?” Horace scolded, shocked into forgetting his grammar.

“I have to get to the Warder's Tower.” He gritted it out, hanging onto whatever came to hand to stay upright. “I never took the ring. I must, immediately.”

“Mister Potter’s portrait ordered us on war footing.” Horace squeaked. “Master Jamie must rest!” He pulled his ears in distress.

“I’ll rest once my son is secure, with me.” Would his useless legs work?

“The others didn’t know of the…the not dying. Master Jamie has a headstone.”

“They think I’m dead?!” He turned so quickly he almost went arse over teakettle. “What about Sirius? He knew.”

“Master Sirius…he is being in Azkaban. For murdering Pettigrew with a blasting curse.” Horace tried to keep up with James, scuttling next to him.

Damn the previous Potters for warding the towers against elves.

“With a single curse?”

“Just one, Horace heard.”

“That isn’t right. Sirius always cast double—one underpowered as a warning and then an overpowered. He never cast a single blasting curse in his life.” The problem of Sirius gave him something to chew on beside his shaking body.

He fought for every step down the long, curving interior corridor to the entry hall. The doors opened at his touch and he lurched down the path to the tower. Eleven years he’d lain there, clawing his way back from death, while Merlin knew what happened outside the walls. First, though, first he needed to accept the family Headship.

Stupid of him not to have done it sooner…but he supposed everyone behaved stupidly at twenty-one. He’d certainly participated in a parade of idiocy that lasted up to his brush with death.

Honestly, he sort of wondered what Lily even saw in him. Perhaps she saw the potential for change? He would, now. He’d have to. The responsibility of it — the Potter Headship and the paterfamilias — weighed on him as he scrabbled the last few feet to the door of the Warder’s Tower.

He shouldered it open, breath ragged in his lungs, and made for the trapdoor he knew existed at the back corner of the tower. Once, they used it as an escape route. Now, it served a much different purpose.

He'd dreamed, once, of his descent into the Ward Room, of that moment when he proved himself capable of leading the family. His dream never included both his parents dead, Lily gone, and Harry and Sirius lost to him. He thought it would be a joyous day, not one where he only made it down the ladder through sheer determination, where the loss of his family ached in his bones.

He dropped to the floor, finally, and leaned against the wall for a moment. The dark pressed in on him, whispers and shuffling just at the edge of his hearing. He breathed the cold, slightly stale air and steeled himself for what came next. He pushed off the wall and walked forward, closing his eyes and tuning himself to his own magic. It guided him where he needed to go, through the warren of escape route and basement. Down and down he went, deep into the earth and deep into the family magic. Those who went before plucked at his sleeves and whispered, trying to draw him away from the path, but he closed his ears to them.

He knew when he arrived by the utter lack of sound. He felt it, seeping into him as he slowly found the center of the cavern. He stood, content to wait for the moment, and knew the precise moment he was judged. Still, he waited, not speaking and barely breathing. He’d been dead for eleven years, what was an hour or so? He would wait as long as need be.

“Son Potter and Peverell, do you come here to be judged?”

The voice came out of the dark, from all sides.

“I do so come.” James answered clearly

 “Do you seek to lead your House, to be a sanctuary to those in need, and to be a light in dark places? The Potter of Peverell has always walked paths others feared. Will you walk where you must?”

“I do. I will.”

“You who have been touched by Death, will you hold close the secrets of this House?”

“None shall hear them from me.”

The magic in the place deepened. His breath caught in his throat at the upswell bearing down on him. He would not buckle, not when he’d come so far. He would face whatever lurked in the dark, would face his own past, but he would not fall to his knees.

The pressure changed and his ears popped. Magic whipped into a gale, but still he stood firm. Slowly, a bright pinpoint of light overtook the wind, whirling into a blinding maelstrom. James squeezed his eyes closed against the light even as it felt like it seared straight through his eyelids.

The pressure coalesced about his hand, them his finger. Slowly, the light died down, but the weight remained about his hand. He looked down to see the Potter ring still gleaming on his finger.

Of course it would be made of pure magic. Sirius was right. His entire family was one giant eldritch horror.

“We who walk with Death as an old friend judge you able.”

Two items clattered against his feet…one heavier and larger and one smaller.

“Take the gifts of your ancestors as you walk the third path. The way will be steep and the climb dark, but we will see you succeed.”

He crouched down and felt first a…hilt? A sword? And then the smooth, polished wood of a wand. The magic of his family, of Potter and Peverell, swirled about him as soon as he gripped the wand. He felt himself open to it, reveling in the feeling of Family.

“Go now, child of our house. You are needed.”

A door opened across the cavern and James made his way to it as quickly as he could. Once through, the door closed behind him. Only then did he slide to the ground, exhaustion overcoming all else.

[royallygray]

I’m busy today ahsjsk but prepare for me to ramble your ears off later

also take a guess at which ship 💀 you’ll never get it /s

also also also did I reblog that from you and if so spill I want to hear what you’re writing /nf

OOOOOH

I bet you seventy monopoly bucks it's ethubs. just. just a subtle guess. maybe. possibly. actually quite unlikely it's not like you ship them or anything 😁

Idk if you reblogged that from me either and idk what /nf means but. ok.

So I have my main AU, soul horizon au, aka around my soul and beyond your horizon, and the masterpost of everything relating to it is here. It's Scarian and Gempearl but it's actually centered around everyone's friendship and something except I haven't actually done a lot of writing for it but I have stuff about Pearl and I have a mutual Peri @periwinklepaint (the best I love them sm just shdhagjah) she's so talented and has drawn 3(THREE!!!!!!!! :D) Pearl drawings in soul horizon au and she's the one that has kept me going in this au

And then my other main not fanfic one is iw8, that I've talked about a teeny bit, but it's my self-indulgent ass half-my-300-OCs fic, that also doesn't actually have anything written for IT-- WAIT I DO I HAVE AN AO3 AND IVE PUBLISHED SOME STUFF FOR IW8 LETS GOO

my ao3 is royalwriteswords and the series is called iw8 | Eternality under my RoyallyGray pseud

I hate half of them but yeah

uhh I've ranted sufficiently

Oh yeah I ranted a little bit about Skyler in a post. She's an OC in iw8

did I mention that iw8 is technically a Harry Potter fanfic. that crosses over with Percy Jackson. and also keeper of the lost cities. but I tend to ignore that bc it diverged primarily into family dynamics and shit bc the main family (Crownes) (Crown-nez) has a long line of people and just. a lot of people with different dynamics and shit and I could probably stop ranting but honestly I'm having fun

Okay so the main character--im unsure if I'm gonna change her name or not--is named Sarah Crownes. Which is the self insert that got out of hand and she was a Mary Sue fucking overpowered as hell (she's still overpowered but it's less relevant now) and she's massively fucked up

HO TT OGO YOU CAN TAKE ME HOT TO GO

I've gotten rly into Chappell Roan and that's been playing in my head

Anyways Sarah has a younger brother called Scott, and a younger sister called Skyler. They're all 9 years apart, and Sarah just turned 18 by the time Skyler was born.

I killed their parents, Sasha Black (yes she's related to sirius. they are twins. yes it's cringe. shut up. embrace the cringe. maybe.) and Davis Crownes (Hermione's mom's brother. now we don't know if Hermione's mom has siblings. but we also don't even know her fucking name so TECHNICALLY Davis can be canon anyways I digress) on the same day that Skyler was born (December 24, 1997). don't blame me, blame Voldemort. it was Voldemort.

Unfortunately, I fucked over Sarah bc why not. Davis and Sasha made Sarah the primary like. person of their will to take care of Scott and Incoming Baby once she turned 18 (December 18, 1997. born 1979) and like.

Sarah is grieving and also fighting in a fucking war when they die and leave the kids to her but also everyone else on their list is either ALSO FIGHTING IN THE FUCKING WAR or otherwise unfit. Like Remus? bro he's not doing well. also in war. the Weasleys? in war. Paul and Alyssa (OCs)? fighting in war.

like. they're all fucked.

also I made this decision like ages ago when I was less mature and less understanding of world, but Sarah sent Scott to Camp Half Blood and Skyler to Camp Jupiter. The reason they're at separate and not at the same is bc Sarah didn't want Scott to feel absolutely over responsible at all times over Skyler and just. yeah

but I feel like there's gotta be a more seamless way of her to do that than just sending them to camps bc she can't take care of them but I haven't figured that out yet anyways

Im done with this post let me know if you have questions and/or want more :D

thanks for the ask Kat <3

[cealesti]

Hii💗 9 and 17 for the ask game, if you’d like!

9. worst part of canon

Honestly there's a LOT to choose from, but I think that what's been bothering me the most lately is the whole SPEW business & how it was handled. It feels so unnecessary and so mean-spirited.

17. there should be more of this type of fic/art

timeloop timeloop timeloop timeloop timeloop

*banging pots and pans* MORE LONG-HAIRED!HARRY YOU COWARDS

but fr now since harry's my main boy and i love him to bits, i honestly wish there were more fics that actually acknowledged that harry's smart? outside of, like, overpowered/slytherin/MOD/wtv AUs; slightly more canon adjacent stuff that recognized that yeah, Harry is reckless and not very studious... but he's not stupid?? at all?? idk it gets pretty tiring to see him constantly being written as if he's unable to grasp his situation and constantly making stupid decision after stupid decision with no justifiable cause

from the choose violence ask game!!