#i. threads: abraxas malfoy.

[sk1fanfiction]

(ch. 15 review) — it’s the way i kept trying to prolong this chapter 😭 anyway. i love inconvenienced tom (i’m sure dumbledore does too) like it’s so him to sleep way after curfew but complain about being called to do something during his “sleep time” and then i love how absolutely irritated he is once he enters dumbledores office and sees his two nightmares — harry & mini abraxas reincarnate being there. him using a silencing spell and dumbledore lowkey approving is just hilarious, harry’s a bit too loud for everyone’s taste apparently. i seem to have forgotten that voldemort is gorgeous? but did malfoy not clock the identical faces?… also tom riddle experiencing empathy??? and for abraxas’ clone?? oh dumbledore (and maybe ruby) what have you done to the poor guy ! the parvati and lavender fight… that’s so sad i know she’s in love with her but saying mean things to your friends is never nice and i feel so bad for lavender bc yes she’s a bit boy obsessed (although tbf cedric is beautiful) she’s still a good friend and she’s just a teenage girl !! also ruby doing nothing to help, i feel you girl, it’s awkward getting between two close friends arguments. i also did not realise that draco and pansy were officially dating oops. ALSO DAPHNE AND ANTHONY?? i did not expect that at all idkw but personally i’m thinking good riddance oops, jk but i don’t mind them together but poor ruby she’s a bit confused and bitter (although there is a perfectly handsome single guy who is literally in a blood vow to protect her so, she shouldn’t be too disheartened idk). nice to see blaise getting complimented on his bone structure yearly, it’s quite phenomenal. HARRY AND CHO MY CUTIES, he’s a little awkward and nervous but he’s got the spirit !! lastly that note… i’m wondering who wrote it and i’m leaning towards tom bc of their conversation in the forest when she ran away and also his affinity for participating in writing things for the potters during valentines. ooh and nott is such a dick i kind of love that for him.

I ended up prolonging this chapter to >7k to wrap up dangling plot threads so that's valid (the next one that I accidentally posted earlier is more normal length -- that'll be up on Sunday after I proofread it).

That's on me for giving Tom one of my most unserious habits (pretending to 'go to bed early' so people won't bother you for three hours). Harry is definitely (canonically) too loud (controversial but I like OOTP CAPS-LOCK!Harry). Truly the stuff of nightmares.

Malfoy (nor anyone else who has seen them both, like Narcissa) did indeed not clock the identical faces (Clark Kent effect, ig).

Also I haven't given Voldemort a physical description except for his red eyes in a while (since Three Can Keep A Secret, I think?). That is on purpose, because I couldn't decide whether or not I wanted OG/Snake Face Voldemort. But I came to the conclusion that (I think this is canonically correct?) he got the snake attributes from the regeneration potion in GOF, and in RFMD he gets regenerated by the Elixir of Life, and then Jadis from Narnia lives rent-free in my brain and I was thinking about that scene from The Magician's Nephew where she eats the forbidden apple or whatever, which makes her Beautiful in An Eldritch Way and decided to go with that...

Tom?? Experiencing empathy?? He begs to differ and says it is totally for strategic reasons.

Honestly, I do feel bad for making them fight :( Lavender is a good friend (will never get off my Justice for Lavender Brown soapbox) but the whole situation is just so messy. If I were Ruby I wouldn't know how to intervene either.

I was never sure if Draco and Pansy dated in canon, but I decided, what the hell, I've never done a proper Valentine's Day chapter before, so, why not. And on the note of Daphne and Anthony yeah that was intentional blindsiding (I think the only times they were seen together were Ancient Runes class and the junk shop and both were Ruby-centric things). Confused and bitter -- that's exactly why I said jealousy, jealousy is required listening for this chapter (for Parvati, too).

There is a perfectly handsome single guy who is literally in a blood vow to protect her

👀

I can't decide who would be more horrified by this proposition.

Blaise loves that for himself, too. I was re-reading OOTP to figure out Harry and Cho and then I realised that their #1 pastime is actually talking about sports 🤦🏾‍♀️

Of course it's Tom. Who else lives in the intersection of loving to fuck with people and misuse stationery for nefarious purposes?

[limetameta]

Recently I saw a post that was talking about how really niche, side characters can't ever have a real fanon characterization because they're not truly canon characters that can be fanonized, theorized, headcannoned till the point of complete acceptance across all fanon artists and writers.

They argued that if a character only has a canon name and nothing else, in order to bring life to this character - you aren't writing a fanon interpretation of a character, but instead you're creating an OC.

Still, of course, no two writers will have the same ideas nor will they be able to write the character the same way, nor similarly even, because it isn't a character that has moments and characterization in the canon material to draw from. Instead, you're creating something new entirely.

I agree, really, and think that that's why across most tombraxas works I've read, Abraxas Malfoy has a characterization that is incredibly fluid and so jarring, from time to time, so unexpected from what I know. From what I've decided to see him as.

Whereas with Tom Riddle, there is a standard from which fanon creators draw from and seek to emulate. Whereas with Abraxas Malfoy, other than his name (and even then, most writers opt for giving him their own middle name, I opted for Hyperion, but most don't), you haven't got the slightest clue nor cue what to take and give him.

It could be argued, of course, that it's the same for Tom Marvolo Riddle. No writer writes him the same. They all give their own stamp of idiosyncrasy to the man. But we all have canon to fall back on, but very rarely. Most writers have long since given up on canon. But we, also, have FANON to fall back on. There have been years of written stories and drawn images of Tom Marvolo Riddle in various stages of life and different characterizations that have all yielded, to a certain degree, not a fanon characterization, but THE fanon characterization that while nobody has outright said is the guideline schematic for writing Tom Riddle, you can kind of see it be threaded through stories online.

People have been taking bits and pieces from each other and building on top of them, creating something darling and joint, deserving of the community of people online who seek to write him. This is in no way to say that people have to write Tom Riddle a certain way, that would defeat the purpose of fanon interpretation of characters, but if you read a certain amount of works, you will find that there are some things that stay in writing Tom Riddle that have nothing to do with his canon self, and everything to do with authors writing and newer authors reading and then writing and then even newer authors repeating the process and building on top of it.

It's that sense of community that you can only see if you've been here for a while.

All of this to say, really can't wait to see what sticks for Abraxas Malfoy after a certain number of years.

[ourpyrrhicvictory]

@lafleurxnoir​ | plotted starter | abraxas & narcissa.

❛ was it everything you wanted it to be ? ❜ 

genuine curiosity colors his tone , and it feels foreign on his tongue. few could entice such concern from him , for few had the effect upon him she does. surprising , he knows. everyone assumed he’d simply wanted a newer model , that he’d only finally agreed to settle down because narcissa black was a sight for the sorest eyes and he was accustomed to the finest things. and while , in part , that may be true . . . okay , it’s entirely true , but abraxas’s heart is attached to his lust , and that will never change. she happens to stimulate both. 

her father isn’t happy , but why would he be ? the point is that there is nothing he can do about it. the ceremony is past , and the bond is secured , and as he strips himself of his coat in the center of their honeymoon suite , he knows he can relax now. it is only the two of them and no further tongues to combat. at least , no more than one another’s. 

❛ did you have a plan for this as well ? how we are to spend our first evening together ? ❜ he has ideas. he’s had ideas since first laying eyes upon her a year ago , when she’d bloomed into the woman who stood before him now. he holds his breath , eyeing the curve of her frame as he loosens his tie. ❛ or were you hoping to find inspiration once we arrived ? ❜

[cardansriddle]

Tom Riddle- Possessive

Summary: When Tom Riddle sees you dancing intimately with two guys, he loses his temper. His jealousy gets the better of him as he drags you away from the party and decides to show you who you belong to.

Warnings: Implied smut, making out. 

A/N: REQUESTS FOR TOM RIDDLE ARE OPEN.

The Slytherin common room was buzzing with energy, as drunk students danced against each other all the while consuming more Firwhiskey, trying to let loose after a week of exhausting exams. `Some coupled were sprawled on the couches, kissing each other shamelessly like there was nobody else in the room, while some danced away as if there was no tomorrow.

You are no exception, with a drink in your hand, body swaying in the little dress that you decided to wear, basking in the moment of pure bliss. You were not drunk no, yet you were tipsy enough to be pressed against two bodies in the crowded room of sweaty people.

Abraxas Malfoy was behind you, hands on your hips as you moved against each other to the rhythm of the music, your head was thrown back on his shoulder. Then there was Avery, also swaying drunkenly in front of you as his hands ran over the entirety of your body.

It was all a girl could ask for really; two of the most desired guys having their attention focused solely on you, admiring you with their eyes and hands alike.

Avery’s hand trailed upwards from your waist, where it was previously positioned until it reached your face and cupped your jaw. He brought your face closer to his, smirking at your breathless and hazy state before laying a kiss on the other side of your jaw, before trailing kisses upwards until his lips hovered above your own. You held your breath, waiting eagerly for him to close the distance when he was suddenly yanked away, and a hand gripped your wrist before pulling you away from the crowd.

You frowned in confusion and tried to tug your hand away from whoever was dragging you towards the corner of the common room.

“Who the fuck do you think you are? Let me go, bastard! ” You shouted, stomping your foot like a child and standing your ground. You were about to hurl another set of insults when the unnamed person turned towards you, and the words died in your mouth.

“Riddle?” You asked bewildered, eyes wide and breath uneven as you stared at him. His usually perfectly styled hair was now tousled as if he had been running his hands through them non-stop, and his eyes were darker than the night as he glared at you with such intensity, you resisted the urge to look away.

He said nothing, instead pushed you against the wall roughly, his hands on either side of your head, leaving you trapped between him and the wall. He leaned in dangerously close, and your breath quickened at the proximity.

“Are you trying to drive me insane?” He hissed, his breath fanning your face. You furrowed your brows in confusion, not having a clue as to what he was referring to.

“What do you mean?” You gulped nervously.

“Merlin, you are making me mad. Pressed against not one but two men, are you taunting me?” He asked and one of his hands wrapped around your throat, causing your eyes to widen. You felt excitement bubbling beneath your skin at the action, and you cursed yourself for feeling so aroused all of a sudden.

“You’re jealous.” You breathed out, your words coming out not as a question but a statement. His glare hardened at what you had just said, and he tightened his grip on your throat, leaning even closer to you so that your noses were brushing against each other.

“But why would you be jealous?” You dared to ask him, not understanding his behaviour. His jealousy did not justify his anger that was directed towards you. Before this party, you and Riddle had never spoken beyond casualties, meaning you had been oblivious to Tom’s little infatuation with you.

“Because you are mine, darling.” His lips curled into a smirk, one that made your stomach twist wildly. You resisted the urge to shudder, and instead bit your lip nervously.

“Bold of you to assume I belong to anybody. Let alone you.”

He suddenly chuckled, yet you knew it was not from amusement. It was laced with something dark. “Be careful of what you say, you might not enjoy the consequences.” He stepped impossibly closer and pushed your legs apart with his knee. His hand left your throat, instead, it travelled downwards until it reached the hem of your dress. His hand slipped up, caressing the inner part of your thigh, his eyes never leaving your face as he watched your eyes close in pleasure. His smirk widened.

“Tom...” You said his name, your lips involuntarily parting. Had your eyes been open, you would have seen the way his eyes darkened at the way you said his name, and he did not hesitate before pressing his lips firmly against yours in a desperate attempt to feel more of you. You looped your arms around Tom’s neck and threaded your fingers within his soft locks and tugged at it, smirking against his lips in satisfaction once he hissed at the action.

He swiped his tongue against your lower lip and pushed his tongue inside your mouth, deepening the kiss. With his other hand, he jerked your hips closer to his and you pulled away with a gasp when his hands wrapped beneath your thighs and you did not waste a second before jumping and wrapping your legs around his hips.

He pushed his hips against yours, and you moaned at the sensation of him rubbing against you. He emitted a low groan, his eyes clouded with pure desire as he pulled away from your lips in order to trail kisses down your throat.

He kissed, bit and sucked against several spots, making sure to mark you as his for everyone to see later on. You did not complain. How could you when his lips were sucking on a particular sweet spot on your throat that had you seeing stars.

“Tom,” You moaned, “touch me.” You practically pleaded.

He pulled away from the assault on your neck, and you watched as he stared at the bruises on your neck with possessiveness and satisfaction.

“Oh I will. I will do more than just touch you.” He said before leaning and whispering against my ear. “I will fucking ruin you.” His eyes glinted with malice as he looked at your face to gauge your reaction, and was pleased when he saw you panting with desire.

“But not here for everyone to see what is meant to be seen only by my eyes.” He lowered you to the ground, grabbing your wrist and pulling you towards the dorms. As he was leading you there, he turned towards you. “I will teach you a lesson that will make you understand that you are mine, and mine only.”

[sneverussape]

leaving is the loudest

one-shot, 2300+ words. purely because i couldn’t get this drawing out of my head. it was originally supposed to be a two-shot, with the second part focusing on severus losing tobias and essentially having the tables turned from this one. but...i got tired. heh.  cw: abuse, parent death, toxic parent-child relationship summary: abraxas malfoy dies when lucius is 16. severus is the sole witness to lucius’ complicated grief. 

--

He was running but he wasn’t alone. “Snape!” Lucius thundered as he faced down the boy who had halted in his tracks as soon as he whirled around in mid-step. It was November and the grounds were near-frozen, and the scrawny second-year was following him like a shadow across the Great Lawn. He was also wearing the coat Lucius had given him just two weeks ago – it wasn’t charity, it was merely a necessity since Lucius had recently discovered that Severus’ own coat was more than a bit threadbare and barely able to keep out the elements; he had no desire for the boy to get pneumonia before the term was even over – and scowling in a manner that would have made milk curdle. “What do you think you’re doing? Get back inside!” “Malfoy!” the boy shot back with equal ire, his face pale and pinched under the moonlight. “Where are you going? After Professor Slughorn met with you three days ago you’ve been disappearing for all hours! What’s the matter with you?” There was a thread of something like worry in his tone but it disappeared fast enough that Lucius could have thought he had imagined it. Severus was not done with his litany, at any rate. “You’re my assigned prefect, mind! I’ve had to go round the corridors the long way to avoid Potter, and we’ve a schedule for French and Defense Against the Dark Arts revisions tonight! Plus you said you’d show me that book of poisons your aunt gave you. You promised!” Blast. He was right. But Lucius was not in a tolerant mood tonight. Those could wait. “Get back into the school, Severus, and leave me be,” Lucius said, hoping the use of the boy’s first name would make him obey without him having to resort to any hexing, and he would if pushed. He doubled down with a threat: “I will remove House points if you continue in this fashion.” Severus snorted, crossing his arms. Lucius’ coat was two sizes too big for him but he remained unbothered and wore it with ease, folding the sleeves so his hands could at least still be visible and utilized easily. “As if you would and even if you did, as if I would care,” he challenged Lucius with a glint in his eye. “Besides, you’re the one skipping on supper to go off on this moonlight stroll. Reckon that’s already earned us enough demerits as it is.” “Get back inside, now.” “No. Not until you tell me what’s going on.” Lucius bristled as his temper flared, rendering him warm despite the frigid night air. He had not counted on this intrusion to what he had hoped would have been a strictly private affair – if he had been planning to stomp off into some hidden corner to shout, cry, or blast an unknowing tree into bits of bark while everyone else had been seemingly occupied with the evening meal then that was between him and him alone. He, of course, had not counted on Severus Snape to notice his departure from the Great Hall, let alone follow him. He didn’t even know how Severus had slipped out himself, with the second-years so near to the staff table, but he knew better than to underestimate the boy’s talents, as everyone else was wont to do. “I’m warning you.” Lucius was already fingering his wand in preparation to strike. He didn’t want to hurt the boy, but it seemed he had little choice. He wouldn’t make it bleed too badly, at any rate. “You have one more chance to turn around and return to the cast—" Something inside of him seemed to snap with such suddenness and ferocity that he gasped and dropped to his knees on the damp grass. Despite being frozen in his spot, he felt as though he had been submerged in ice-cold water, and the Malfoy signet ring he usually wore on his right hand burned with a heat that had him clutching at his wrist. The pain vanished in a span of seconds, but a cloying emptiness where there had once been the familiar, if not tenuous, connection to his father had enveloped him thick enough to smother, and Lucius let out a strangled breath, feeling as though he had been left untethered in the middle of a raging sea. He could barely hear Severus’ voice over the roar in his ears. “—Lucius, oh my God, get up, please! What’s wrong? Are you all right? Fuck, I’ll have to call Madame Pomfrey!” He reached out and snatched Severus’ wrist before the boy was able to run back to the castle. The last thing he needed now was an audience. “No,” he commanded through gritted teeth. “For Merlin’s sake, Severus—” “What’s wrong with you?!” Severus demanded, his tone high-pitched with fright. He shook Lucius’ shoulders. For such a scrawny whelp, he was irritatingly strong. “Malfoy, please talk to me. Are you all right? Did you take anything? I can’t help you if you don’t tell me!” Despite the intense emotions that were already threatening to swallow him whole, Lucius nearly laughed at Severus’ boldness. “You can’t help!” he snapped, determined to put the boy in his place. No matter Severus’ intentions, there were some things he was loathe to explain to him. “But if you go to Pomfrey or any of the professors right now, I swear to Merlin will hex you into next week and I can assure you Sluggy will do nothing in your defense if I do. I mean it, Snape.” “Are you even listening to yourself? I’m not the one kneeling on the ground right now—” “My father’s died. Just now.” Lucius felt wooden speaking the words, and it was as though he was hearing them being spoken from a stranger’s mouth. “He’d been taken ill a few days ago and it was quite serious. But now he’s gone. I…I felt it.” Severus gaped at him for all of two seconds before nodding very solemnly. “I’m sorry,” he said, suddenly looking very young. “Malf—Lucius. I’m sorry. I didn’t know.” “Don’t apologize, would you?” Lucius snarled. “You didn’t create the ruddy pox that took him. And you hadn’t known him either, so his loss has no real effect on your existence.” Two red spots appeared in the boy’s cheeks. “I was being polite. You don’t have to be such a right bastard about it,” he said through gritted teeth. “He is…was your father. You’re my…mate…prefect...something, I don’t know. God.” Severus mumbled the words before he blew out a breath. When he next spoke, it was tentative: “What…what now, then?” Lucius was surprised that the boy even had to ask, but he remembered that Severus wasn’t a pureblood. Of course he wouldn’t know. He inwardly groaned as he willed himself to be patient enough to answer coherently. “My father’s death,” he released a shuddering breath, “automatically makes me the head of the family. Hogwarts will likely receive the missive announcing it before tonight’s end. I expect that I shall have to go to Wiltshire tomorrow to attend to those matters as well as his burial. He’ll have to be buried beside my mother…” The magnitude of the change that would be brought about by his father’s death slowly sank in: the Gringotts accounts. Their properties. The hidden cache of Dark Arts tokens in his father’s study. The changing of the magical signatures. The wards. The updating of blood contracts. The expectations. And as the new pater familias he would have to grow out his hair now…Merlin and Circe, he had just turned 16 just that September! And now he was an orphan…. Lucius buried his head in his hands, the yawning emptiness inside of him like a chasm he wanted to throw himself into. When he felt the hand on his shoulder, he flinched away automatically, half-expecting it to be his father’s touch. A bitter taste crept up the back of his throat when he remembered that the last encounter he had had with Abraxas Malfoy was the tirade he had been subjected to on the day before leaving for Hogwarts; it had been a long one about failure and ineptitude despite his outstanding O.W.L.S., and how his poor mother had died in childbirth for naught, but Lucius had only half-listened. He was used to that type of treatment; any spare moments between him and Abraxas had always been filled with his father’s constant vitriol, the cycle only broken by the rare occasions of doting whenever he was in a generous mood, or when he remembered and wanted to drive home that their family now consisted of just the two of them. His father had demanded for his only son’s respect and loyalty, despite having wielded words as weapons and throwing them at him with startling aim, and Lucius had loved him enough to let all his attacks, unprecedented or otherwise, be met with silence. But now…the thought of arriving at an empty manor terrified Lucius. His father had always been such an imposing and terrifying figure in his life that the full realization of his loss paralyzed him. He did not know how he could possibly move forward. He did not know how to come to terms with a silence that should have been his father’s to fill. “I’m sorry.” Severus said again, although Lucius wasn’t sure exactly what he was apologizing for. His hand landed with uncharacteristic gentleness on Lucius’ shoulder, and this time, Lucius didn’t flinch. He heard the grass beside him rustle as Severus sat down. “You’re missing supper,” Lucius stated, his prefect instincts overriding his current emotional turmoil. It was no secret to him that, besides Potions and spells practice, mealtimes were Severus’ favorite times of the day. The boy never missed a meal if he could help it, and he’d be damned if the brat lost weight while at school, on his account no less. Narcissa would kill them both.  “I know the way to the kitchens. Hogwarts will at least never let me starve,” Severus scoffed in reply, defiance edging his tone. Lucius sighed. He knew what Severus was doing; the boy was as subtle as a rhinoceros set loose in an apothecary. “Snape, you don’t have to—” “Malfoy,” Severus interrupted, and Lucius could already imagine him sneering. “You don’t have to talk about it, but I’m not leaving you here, all right? Stop being such a thick, stubborn git.” “I’m the prefect, mind you. You’re not allowed to make concessions.” “Yeah, and you’re a bloody numpty too, I can tell you that, sitting here in the freezing cold.” “You’re a child.” “So are you if we’re going by technical terms.” “For all intents and purposes, my being Lord Malfoy now makes me an official adult.” “You don’t even know how to pay your bloody taxes, you pureblood ponce.” “Ha!” Lucius felt strangely triumphant, and the reply came before he could restrain himself. “I’ll have you know that my father taught me well in that regard. Handling an estate or several isn’t one for the weak-hearted.” Severus looked slightly impressed although he tried not to show it. Talking about their families’ personal matters was not a popular topic in Slytherin house. For the most part, they knew where each family stood with regard to the Dark Lord, and the inherent closeness those relationships bred entailed that they were also quite knowledgeable of how everyone else’s fathers and mothers were like behind closed doors. The occasional halfblood or Muggleborn that managed to get sorted into Slytherin however was often a challenge they had to contend with, but Severus had always been a quick study. “You loved him then? Your father?” he asked, clever enough to steer clear from the labels of ‘good’ and ‘evil’ that more simple-minded folk tended to veer towards, but also sufficiently impertinent enough to bring up a concept that Lucius felt was a cauldron fit to explode. Love…was a strange emotion to attribute to his father, and he would be lying if he said that Severus’ words didn’t make Lucius feel as though he had been kicked in the throat. “He was my father. Of course I…” Lucius paused as the words caught on his tongue. He all at once felt humiliated, enraged, and confused at the realization that his father could still manage to reduce him to such a state of speechlessness. What Severus had asked shouldn’t have been a difficult question, and yet it clearly was. “He was the only one I had left in the world after Maman died,” he finally said, attempting to put into words the turbulent emotions that warred within him. “I…cared for him a great deal. I gave him nothing less than what he asked for…what he expected. I’m…grateful…to have been his son. To be a Malfoy.” He saw a knowing gleam in Severus’ eyes and was grateful when the boy kept his mouth shut. His chest felt tight and he wondered for a moment if his heart was still beating…if his father had not, in fact, stolen it away in his final moments. Lucius would not have been surprised if he had. It seemed, after all, that Abraxas Malfoy had taken everything else upon his leaving, even those that Lucius had never thought he had been willing to give. The silence in the wake of his father’s final departure was deafening, and Lucius covered his hands with his ears. “It will be all right,” he heard Severus say, his voice soft and muffled. A warm weight flitted over his shoulders and Lucius quickly realized the boy had transfigured his coat into a large blanket and had wrapped it around him. He didn’t bother to protest. “You’re all right.” He wasn’t, and he wouldn’t be, not for a long time, but Lucius’ eyes stayed strangely dry nevertheless as he leaned into Severus’ comforting warmth. .

[mrsren]

Ooooh can Tom be the 90 in this Magical Au Tomione please. Paired with a 70, a side of 85 and a dash of 86 sprinkled on? (Is that allowed? lol)

Here at MrsRen, we take specialty orders so gimme what you want and I will endeavour to make it happen. 

90: Unexpected Virgin (Tom). 70: Locked In A Room. Side of 85: Innocent Physical Contact. Sprinkle of 86: I Didn’t Mean to Turn You On. 

This turned out to be kind of long. It’s an actual drabble that will probably go in my soulmate au. 90 & 86 turned out to be involved, but Hermione doesn’t actually realise either of these things. I hope you like it anyway. 

The parties in the Slytherin dormitory were, for a lack of a better word, fucking ridiculous. Tom Riddle did his due diligence to avoid them. As Head Boy, it gave him the perfect excuse. Any self respecting Head Boy wouldn’t be caught smack in the middle of the chaos that ensued. 

Until Hermione fucking Granger decided to take Abraxas up on an offer to be his date if they won the Quidditch match. She’d appeared apparently out of nowhere at the beginning of the year, and Tom couldn’t get her out of his head. It didn’t matter how hard he tried. 

She was always there. 

This stunt by Abraxas was a ploy to force his hand, and Tom had to admit, however begrudgingly, that it could possibly work if Malfoy’s hand slipped any lower. 

Tom’s appearance didn’t go unnoticed by his house mates, and Granger eyed him curiously from where she sat on the sofa, her legs crossed demurely at her ankles. 

At some point, Tom found himself forced into a party game that he had no interest in. A bottle of Ogdens pointed toward him, and Granger flushed a deep crimson. 

It was pretty. 

He hated that the thought crossed his mind. 

However, he quickly forgot it when Parkinson whined that he would be going into a broom cupboard with Granger instead of her. Everything else happened fairly quickly. 

Granger vehemently swore that she wasn’t going to do it. It was improper, she cited. 

Truthfully it only made Tom want to get her in the room alone even more, but he put on a show of refusing. Yet anyone who actually knew him had to have known that he’d gone willingly. Those who didn’t would believe it was all in order to be a show of good sportsmanship. 

The door sealed shut, and Granger’s breathing grew labored. He asked if she was alright as she sank to the floor before a minute had passed.

“I can’t stand enclosed spaces.” She whispered, tucking her head between her legs while carefully adjusting her skirt. “It doesn’t make it any better that you’re here with me.” 

“You do that quite often, insult me,” Tom said casually. 

Her shoulders tensed. “You’re a prat, Riddle.” 

He sat beside her, his shoulder bumping hers, and Tom could feel her trembling like a leaf. “Why are you scared?” 

Granger muttered that she wasn’t scared. 

And then-

“I was locked in a room like this.” 

That was...interesting. 

“When?” 

“A week before Dumbledore discovered me, and brought me to Hogwarts. I was locked in a cell, and I was...” Granger’s voice died. “Do you think they’ve forgotten us?” 

Honestly, Tom wouldn’t be surprised, but he had other things to focus on at the moment. “Why were you in a cell?” 

Flexing her fingers, Granger exhaled. “I was tortured as a victim of the war.” 

“Was it due to the fact that you’re muggleborn?” 

“Bollocks.” 

“Was it meant to be a secret?” Tom asked, finding his voice softer than he could remember it ever being. “I don’t think anyone knows.” 

“Until you tell them, of course.” 

Tom frowned. “I have no intention of telling them.” 

Granger lifted her head and peeked over at him. “Why wouldn’t you?” 

He didn’t know. He wished she didn’t ask so many fucking questions. 

“What happened to you?” 

She rolled up her sleeve slowly, and held the end of her wand to her forearm. Bit by terrible bit, a cursed scar revealed itself. “I didn’t talk.” 

Tom wasn’t sure what possesed him to touch her so casually, but he laid his palm over the healed wound. “Are they dead?” 

Granger shook her head. “They will be.” 

It was the most interesting thing she’d ever said. Several minutes of silence passed, and there was no sound outside of the room. Abraxas had certainly left them, and he’d cast a silencing charm while he was at it. 

Her breathing quickened, and she wheezed. “I’m sorry, I just-” Granger’s voice broke. She looked at him, and innocent, brown eyes were wide as she stared at him. “I have to get out of here.”

“I don’t think that’s going to happen.” 

“Fuck!” 

Tom reached for her hand, and threaded his fingers through hers. He’d heard that skin to skin contact could calm someone, though he imagined it could just as easily make it even worse. 

“What are you doing?”

There was a sharp pull in his chest that lessened when he touched her. “I don’t know.” 

Granger slumped. Every once in a while she would squeeze his hand. 

Within the first hour they were trapped in the ridiculous, little broom cupboard, she fell asleep.Tom shifted her to where her head lay in his lap. He carded his fingers through her hair, finding it to be softer than it looked. 

He was positive this witch was after his own demise when her head rolled to the side, and her mouth pressed against his stiffening cock through his trousers. 

Merlin. 

She yawned in her sleep. Her lips parted. 

He was fucked. 

She held a sort of control over him that he’d never contemplated before. 

He was so fucked. 

[draco-fuckingmalfoy]

I ask this out of pure curiosity. Why is it such a popular headcanon that Draco is abused? when there's more evidence that he's a spoiled brat. Maybe slightly neglected in the way a lot of children from wealthy families are (buying stuff for them but little time spent because busy elsewhere), And we see like one offahnd comment about schooling, so we know he's expected to do well. But there's no signs of abuse. And it's voldemort in the later books causing the problems with threats.

I dont have the energy to go too in-depth with this: but i will say that it probably widely spreads from two/three concepts: 

One: Lucius is seen to hit him several times in the story. Yes, this can be chocked up to authoritarian parenting/corrective behavior, but it could also hint at worst abuse. There are several references/quotes that support this in interviews/within the pages of the story themselves. This doesn't mean that Authoritarian is always abusive, but ((i’ll say this until I die, hitting your kids for any reason at all is a horrible thing to do and you shouldn't be a parent if you think spanking/physical punishment is a good thing))  Two: Many people flock towards this idea of Asshole/villain characters needing tragic backstories to justify/understand their behavior. this is a concept that is shown a thousand times in media and in real life.  Three: if there was a story/fanfic/roleplayer that did it once, and it was popular and well-received, then it may have caught on that way. It also could just be a widely accepted headcannon due to the way people read the books/ having to do with the mistrust of author/POV that the book is coming from. Is harry trustworthy/is JKR trustworthy enough to tell readers the truth/in depth complexity that stems from the Malfoy line? Would harry have a reason to know that Draco was or was not abused or would he have this idea of a rich spoiled brat asshole being treated like Dudley was? how would harry’s perceptions of Dudley cloud his perception of Draco? Also, spoiled and yet abused can go together, and often abusers use items/gifts to make up for the abuse that they put their victims through.  and bonus: I use draco as an outlet for my own trauma/issues and I dont remember where the abuse HC I have for Draco stemmed from. It makes sense to me that there is abuse in the malfoy line (I don’t remember much about Abraxas to be fair, but I’ve read many things about Lucius having been abused and how cycles of abuse continue through generations)  But lastly, I know that I do a lot of abuse centered content, but I do truly believe that Lucius loves draco/Draco loves Lucius and that relationships are not always black and White and I am always open to threads with Lucius where he is not abusive.  I don’t know if this helps answer this question, and I do want it to be clear that I am not the authority on who Draco is/what his story is (lets be fair JKR isn't either though, that garbage fire)  Draco is a character that can be portrayed in anyway that people want that differs from my portrayal of him, but the complexities of who he is/ could be inspire me and I dont think I’d be portraying him if I didnt portray him the way I do. which is a me problem, I’m aware.  I dont know if this answered the question or just became me babbling. I wrote more than I intended, though.

[officialsporkintheroad]

Hi!! For the prompts, Tomione with “I loved you once.” ☺️

(a/n: Thank you so much for sending a prompt. I had fun with this one. Sorry for the wait!This is a bit angsty/vengeful. I hope you enjoy!)

“Tom.”

He wasn’t looking at her. Whywasn’t he looking at her? The dark-haired man simply stood behind his desk,staring down at some unknown document. She took the opportunity to watch him,to catalogue how the man before her was different from the boy she’d known. He’dnot changed much, physically at least. There was something sharp about him now,something that had previously been hidden, but which had been chiseled intoexistence.

She hated it.

“Tom,” she said again, moreinsistent this time. “What am I doing here?”

“I don’t go by that name anymore.”

He still hadn’t looked up, butshe could see the tension in his shoulders, the way his fingers gripped theedge of the desk too tight. She had always been able to see through histoo-carefully crafted mask, and now was no different. But she didn’t care abouthis name. Not anymore.

“What am I doing here?”

She’d been followed for a weekstraight by Abraxas Malfoy and Radolphus Lestrange. Both of the men had apparentlybeen deluded enough to think they were doing a good job at not being seen, butin truth, the only reason Hermione hadn’t instantly alerted the aurors that shewas being stalked was because she knew they’d been close with Tom.

Tom who had been her greatestcompetition in school. Tom who had tied with her in nearly every class. Tom whohad danced with her at Slughorn’s party, who had snogged her breathless in theastronomy tower underneath the light of the moon. They’d been inseparable. Everyonethought they’d get married. Even Hermione.

And then Tom disappeared just twomonths after graduation. No letter explaining where he’d gone, no hint that he’dbe leaving. She’d tried to get ahold of his school friends, but if they’d knownwhere he went, they sure as hell hadn’t told her. Now, three years later, justwhen Hermione was finally starting to be happy again—just when she was finallyfiguring out how to live a life that Tom Riddle wasn’t a part of—he had to showup.

She was three seconds away fromblasting everything in this thrice-damned office into the abyss.

“I have need of competent people,”Tom said, finally glancing up from his paperwork. He eyed her impassively, onebrow raised. “Obviously you qualify.”

Hermione stared at him, handtwitching at her side. All the anger she thought she was over came rushing backto the surface. She ached to raze him to the ground. He’d left her behind as ifshe meant nothing to him. He looked at her now like they were strangers, likethis was a job interview, like they’d never been as close as any two peoplecould be.

There was a part of her thatwanted to scream, “I loved you once. Doesn’t that mean something?”

Another part whispered, I never stopped.

She ignored them both. This was Tom,no matter what he called himself now. She knew him. She would never break himwith sentiment. She would never be able to beat him in a direct fight. And theycould never go back to how things used to be; she could see that now.

But he was arrogant. He wasproud. And if he believed that Hermione was still in love with him enough toforgive him, to want to work with him again…well, who was she to pass up such aperfect opportunity.

“And just what do you need thesecompetent people for?” Hermione asked.

His lips curled into a smile sodisingenuous it made Hermione sick. “For change. The Ministry is corrupt. You knowit. I know it. All of Britain knows it. But they won’t do anything to fix it. Iwill.”

He stepped closer to her, eyesalight. He was still so handsome, he was almost painful to look at. Hermionecould almost remember what it was like to wake up to his arm slung around herwaist, eyelashes casting shadows on his cheeks, breath warm on the back of herneck. She didn’t want to remember; she wanted to wipe the memory from her brain,and only the risk of accidentally damaging her mind permanently had kept her fromobliviating it straight from her head.

“I want you to be on the rightside of things,” he said, voice low. “My side.”

She looked up at him, meeting hiseyes straight on. “I’m always on your side. You know that.”

She wasn’t sure what hurt more:that there was still a spindly thread of truth attached to her words, or thetriumphant, haughty tilt of his lips, the look of utter satisfaction that feltso much like a slap to the face. He’susing you, her inner voice said. Maybehe’s always been using you.

It didn’t matter now; it onlymade it easier for her to do what she was going to do.

“That’s my girl,” he whispered,low so only she could hear. Her face burned, a memory resurfacing of him sayingthose exact words, only huskier, his own face flushed from exertion. She triedto banish the thought. She wasn’t his anymore; he would realize that soon enough.

He smirked and twisted his wandbetween his fingers. “Welcome, Hermione, to the Death Eaters. You will addressme as your lord.”

[thesacredrp-archive]

FEBRUARY 14, 1979 | VALISBLOT & VALENTINE’S

Since the death of Regulus Black, the magical world has changed. A vigilante group, the Order of the Phoenix, has been seemingly blamed, though only the Death Eaters are aware of the truth. Even the more liberal purebloods worry for their safety. If a young, pureblood scion can be found dead on the steps of Gringotts, what could happen to them? But life, as always, must continue, and though the pureblood contingent is in a state of mourning, they soldier onward. A date for the Ministry elections is set and Interim Minister for Magic Abraxas Malfoy begins to set his agenda.

Through Muggle influences, many magicals now celebrate Valentine’s Day, an aberration in the minds of many purebloods and other magical traditionalists. The original day, Valisblot, is an ode to the old Norse gods. It is a day to remember what they have lost, a day for sacrifice; it is a day for vengeance.

The Interim Minister for Magic has begun the first phase of his official campaign and though he cannot openly act against his detractors, he denounces the idea of Valentine’s Day in an exclusive interview with the Daily Prophet. “We have lost so much in this past year,” he says. “It is unconscionable that we, as witches and wizards, continue to take up muggle customs instead of celebrating our own.” Minister Malfoy announces that the Ministry will host a traditional sacrificial feast the night of February 14 for the entirety of the wizarding community, paid for from the Malfoy vault.

The newspapers, as always, have their commentary, and while the Daily Prophet lauds the Minister for standing up for traditional wizarding values, other, smaller papers argue that doing so ostracizes muggleborns from truly assimilating into their world.

A few muggleborn-owned businesses in London find it laughable and announce Valentine’s Day events at their locations, with one of the local pubs planning an all-night extravaganza.

But a small contingent of Death Eaters, acting with approval from the Dark Lord, if not having his explicit instruction decides that the traditional feast is not enough. This year, they decide, they will reclaim the day as their own. And vengeance will play its role.

The sacrificial feast goes off without a hitch, held in the atrium at the Ministry of Magic. Attendees mingle with each other, dining on cold food to symbolize the sacrificial nature of the feast, the loss of winter, and hope that spring will soon arrive. The mood is relatively somber, and for one evening the purebloods do not feel that they are entirely alone in saving their culture.

Attendees come and go as they please, with some staying for a short time and others staying for the entirety of the evening. Aurors are stationed at all entrances and it is clear that the Ministry is making a point about safety.

The small group of Death Eaters decides to attack London shops and businesses owned by muggleborns who choose to bring muggle culture into the magical world. It will be a sign, they believe, that assimilation is necessary to truly succeed. They wait until the feast is nearly over, when they assume everyone else will be at home or enjoying the Malfoys’ generosity, when those they care about will be safe.

And they miscalculate, unaware of how many magicals had gathered for a night of revelry in the London bars and pubs. What is intended to be a calculated attack becomes little more than mayhem, bolstered in part by the Death Eaters’ inebriated state as well as the intoxicated inhabitants of magical London.

There is chaos in Diagon Alley, Horizont Alley, and Carkitt Market as the Death Eaters attack; some fight back, others loot, and in the melee, several are injured. By the time the aurors arrive, anti-apparition wards have been placed and several people are stuck in the magical districts until early morning.

PAIRINGS

[Players are not required to do a thread for each of these, but I sincerely hope that you all wish to! At the very least, please work out specifics/headcanons together.]

EMERSON YAXLEY had little desire to participate in the Minister’s feast and had begged off, instead writing a short puff piece for the Prophet about one of the events in Carkitt Market. With HENRY SAYRE by her side, she is happily enjoying the evening until the shop next door to the pub is attacked. The two hide in a storeroom until they believe the danger has passed.

Though SIRIUS BLACK was still in mourning for his brother, he had attended the feast at the Ministry before slipping away to have a drink with an old friend. He is walking back to the apparition point when he hears the breaking of glass. As he investigates, he sees FLETCHER TRAVERS holding his hand to his side, looking worse for the war. When FLETCHER moves to shake his hand, SIRIUS is shocked to see it is covered in blood.

BRIAR AVERY had every intention of leaving the feast early. She had just come out of the powder room when NARCISSA BLACK came in. After engaging the other woman in conversation, word comes of attacks in London. Worried about her boutique, BRIAR leaves the Ministry to check on it. Against her better judgment, NARCISSA follows and the two are swept up in the throng of panicked people in the streets.

After the feast, AVA NOTT goes to Knockturn Alley to see her fiance. However, she is waylaid by the chaos in London. A stray spell clips her ankle and she crumples to the ground, the bones in one leg vanished. She is found by CHARLES AVERY who must devise a way to get her to St. Mungo’s amid the confusion.

While OPHELIA GREENGRASS attended the feast on her betrothed’s arm, she leaves with FITZGERALD GREENGRASS to see a band they like playing in a bar near Carkitt Market. When her brother disappears for a cigar, OPHELIA steps outside for some air and is surprised to see OCTAVIUS BURKE in the streets. She engages him in conversation and the two watch as the muggleborn-owned shop across the street is burned to the ground.

Meanwhile, FITZGERALD GREENGRASS pops over to Sip and Smoke for a cigar or two, planning to return before his sister misses him. He is stopped by ROSALIND SELWYN, who is near hysterics at the chaos in the streets. FITZGERALD agrees to see her home but before he is able to, the aurors arrive and place anti-apparition wards, forcing the two to remain together in Horizont Alley.

Unaware of what his comrades are planning, RICHARD SELWYN takes VIOLET WILKES for a drink in Horizont Alley. When sounds of breaking glass echo from the street, RICHARD investigates. He is joined by ROMAN DELACOUR. They do not engage the revellers and are just stepping back into the establishment when ROMAN is hit by a stray curse that leaves him unable to move.

Left to her own devices in Il Tavolo, VIOLET WILKES searches for a familiar face. Seeing HAZEL FAWLEY, she convinces the other woman to sit at the bar while they wait for an opportunity to escape home. When the aurors come, the two women watch as several innocent bystanders are carted off for questioning.

ADELAIDE GREENGRASS worries that her brother will continue his escapades with MARLENE MCKINNON. When she sees the younger woman at the feast in the Ministry, she engages her in conversation, eager to suss out her intentions. The two are still speaking when word comes of the attacks in London. They attempt to leave but are stopped by aurors fearful of their safety; instead, they spend the night drinking wine and playing cards in the corner while they wait for the all-clear.

LOGISTICS

The event will take place through SUNDAY, FEBRUARY 16, after which a short time shift will occur. You may roleplay anything listed above, but please do not roleplay past early morning on February 15, 1979. Make sure to tag your starters with thesacred:starter as well as thesacred:event6.  

Players are welcome to continue any current threads they have and are also encouraged to participate in the event. Any new players will be paired as well upon acceptance!

Please let me know if you have any questions or concerns!

[faithlessdragon]

A Nephew Muddied: A Canon-Divergent Potterverse AU

As the Dark Lord fell, so went his Death Eaters. Some went willingly, proclaiming their unending loyalty to Lord Voldemort with pride and fury. Others did everything in their power to avoid conviction, calling in favors and spending gold and telling lies -- but for many, there was no escape from the truth of their allegiance.

The Malfoys were among the latter group, Lucius and Narcissa both receiving life sentences to Azkaban for their crimes in Lord Voldemort’s name. It didn’t matter that only Lucius had taken the Mark; in the eyes of the law, Narcissa was every bit as guilty as her husband -- and her sister.

(Bellatrix’s performance in court likely did her little sister no favors.)

But young Draco, at least, was innocent; he would be spared his parents’ fate, and would even be allowed to retain the majority of the Malfoy fortune, albeit held in trust until he came of age; many of the Wizengamot balked at destroying such an old family legacy, no matter how dark the crimes of its members.

Draco’s grandfather, Abraxas Malfoy, was meant to take custody of the boy -- but his heart couldn’t take the shame of his only son’s prison sentence. With Bellatrix and Rodolphus, Draco’s god-parents, both in Azkaban alongside his mother and father that left the Ministry with only one choice: they sent him to his closest living (non-incarcerated) relative, Andromeda Tonks.

Oh, how Narcissa would have raged if she had known...

General Verse Background Details:

Lord Voldemort’s reign of terror is over and many (but not all) of his Death Eaters were rounded-up and sentenced to Azkaban or killed. The Wizarding World is at peace.

Default presumption would be that Voldemort fell victim to Lily Potter’s love as in canon, but an alternative result could easily be invented instead. Perhaps the Potters all lived; perhaps Sirius and Peter both remain free and friends with the rest.

Some wix, like Albus Dumbledore, fear the Dark Lord will return. They argue that having dementors guard Azkaban is folly; others simply call it inhumane. The Ministry maintains that they are the only way to keep such dangerous prisoners under lock and key.

General Status of Draco in This Verse:

Too young when they were sentenced to remember his parents (or any of the things they taught him), Draco knows Lucius and Narcissa only from photographs and his aunt’s grudging stories. He knows they helped Voldemort, knows that they did bad things. He isn’t sure how he feels about having parents who were evil, although Andromeda swears they loved him despite their dark allegiances. He thinks that maybe makes it worse.

Nymphadora is effectively an older sister to Draco and despite her having already started her at Hogwarts by the time he joined the family, they became inseparable fast. She’s much louder and clumsier than he is but he would follow her anywhere. It’s probably a good thing they didn’t overlap at school; she would have led him into dozens of detentions.

Draco goes by the surname of Malfoy of course, but sometimes he wishes he could be a Tonks instead. It would be easier than having to endure the whispers and insults of those who blame him for his parents’ deeds -- or those who find him an insufficient heir to their legacy, pathetic blood-traitor that he is.

He was sorted into Slytherin House, although it took the hat a little longer to make up its mind here. He wishes he had been in Hufflepuff like his cousin, not in his parents’ house -- but another part of him likes it. His aunt was a Slytherin too, so it’s not like he has to be following in his parents’ footsteps just because of his Sorting...

He is still Professor Snape’s favorite, of course. Some things never change.

Draco is still trans in this verse of course, but might have had a harder time coming into his identity due to the prejudices and presumptions of Muggle society. Possibly his uncle objected to the idea or feared for him, or was simply ignorant of magical society’s way of dealing with such things. Possibly Ted’s Muggle relatives caused problems for the family. Possibly he and Andromeda worried that Draco was acting out in an attempt to distance himself from his lineage rather than really meaning it. Possibly Draco struggled with the idea of “betraying” his absent parents by changing the name and gender they gave him. It might have taken him longer to be himself, possibly to the point of still being in the closet when he arrived at Hogwarts. This may vary by thread.

Interaction Notes: I am interested in interactions in this verse set before, during, and after Draco’s time at Hogwarts. I look forward both to ordinary, everyday threads exploring this altered world and characters and to more dramatic threads set during Voldemort’s return -- whether those might mirror canon or follow drastically different paths!

[licnbright]

@loyalmalfoy

The waves of heat flowed into the lands with the strong arrival of the summer; sweat trickles down the fair cheek and brow of the brightest witch. Her fierce amber hues stare out at the landscape with a frown creased into her lips. Dumbledore was deceased, and Voldemort had declared his war against the wizarding world. Hermione’s arms twined around her form as she clicked her tongue. Hermione had yet to get into contact with either Ron or Harry; she had protected her parents using magic forcing them to forget her existence. Doing such a thing proved quite painful; Hermione in her heart was preparing for the war. The war against Voldemort. The notion sickened her as her mind reflected back to the days where she had become stuck in his era, when she had dared to travel back in time at the end of her fifth year and ended up stuck there for most of her sixth.

She had become friends with him, him and another. Abraxas Malfoy, Lucius’s father and Draco’s grandfather. She had woven her threads with theirs, become someone to their lives. And they had both become someone to her. Tom, now Voldemort left an ache in her chest. How would she be able to face them? How would he react when they encountered one another in the present? The thought was daunting leaving her with pained pride, how would Harry or Ron react when they discovered that was where she had been for so many months? Missing most of the school year because she had been stuck in the past; luckily for her Professor Mcgonagall passed her none the less upon finding the letter Hermione had written to her. The woman had full knowledge of what had occurred and what Hermione had been up to. The letter had also stated if she got stuck in the past it was because something happened to her turner.

The Professor had been doing everything she could from that moment on to try and bring Hermione back to her proper time. But, her time in the past in Tom’s past. Surely had some affect on the present; Hermione was determined to find out what before it was too late. She wanted to ensure it had not severely alter the timeline, the history and most importantly the present and her future. Yet, the wild locked witch could not help but sense that something was clearly amiss the more she stared out at the lands. Perhaps she should reach out to Harry and Ron? ‘No, I do not know how they will react. They were already pretty upset when they had learned I had been gone for so long. Not to mention they were irate when I refused to tell them where I had gone.’ she thinks to herself continuing her silent debate.

The sound of tricks snapping behind her caused her guard to immediately rise; her gaze flicks over her shoulder to look into the forest and the brush. Was it an animal? Or perhaps something worse.

Drawing forth her wand the witch whispered a concealment spell before silently venturing into the bushes to see if she could find what was making the noises. She was armed and ready, pushing back branches her eyes fell upon a scene and a gasp escaped her lips as she looked upon a man. He was hunched over but resting against a tree; he appeared injured as well as disoriented. Her heart compelled her to approach him, she was too good natured to leave someone alone in the forest. Someone who may be hurt. Slowly she comes to the other’s side before bending to one knee; unveiling her concealment she reaches out touching the other’s shoulder.

It was at the moment that her heart stopped and her almond hues grew wide in shock and bewilderment. “Abraxas!?!” his name escaped her lips as she looked upon the other; how. How was he here?! Had he discovered a time turner and come to her time? Or was there something more sinister at play here. Whatever was the cause, she knew she could not just leave him here. Gently she shakes him trying to stir his senses. “Abraxas. Are you alright? Can you stand?” She says asking him questions; her heart began to pound as she began to figure out what she should do. She would have to keep him with her....

Unless.

Unless he was fighting alongside Tom once more? What if the sight of her caused alarm. Or worse, he tried to take her to Voldemort. So many thoughts began to swirl around in Hermione’s head; she shuts her eyes and began to force them all away. She knew what she had to do. She had to tend to the man; possible enemy or not. He had become her friend in the past; he had been her confidant and companion. She could not, and would not turn her back on him in a time of need. No matter what side he was on. She only hoped her heart would not be her downfall. Her eyes flutter open once more as she looked upon him, hoping and praying within that her judgement was not misplaced.

“Abraxas...”

[slughcrn-blog]

Severus Snape and Lucius Malfoy: Why One Was a Member of the Slug Club and One Was Not

Let us start with Snape. First of all, the reason he is included on the wiki is because of out of book information and lbr we all basically ignore that anyway. So with that out of the way, the reason that Snape was not a member of the Slug Club is because he openly disliked muggleborns, save for Lily. It is stated in the books that Snape calls every muggleborn but Lily a mudblood. He also hung around with the type of people that cursed others for fun, such as Mary Macdonald. So, even if Snape was a potions prodigy, he was not invited to the club.

“But Cass,” you may ask, “why was Tom Riddle invited, among all the other future Death Eaters then?”

That is because Tom was cunning and charming and manipulative, more so than most people we have seen in the series. That could very well be his superpower. Snape can lie well sure, but I never saw him as being very good at covering up when he wasn’t the best guy around when he was younger. And I doubt he was nearly as good as Tom. Charisma also is a factor when it comes to who Horace invites because they can clearly work their way to the top with their words. Tom also covered up for his friends and Horace was willing to believe Tom over everyone because he is that manipulative. Plus, around Snape’s school years, Voldemort had come about and started a war, which put Slughorn on edge for repeats of the past.

Even if that point doesn’t stand that Snape couldn’t be as good as covering up his behavior, it seems that Horace only invited older students, typically fifth year and above, into his Club, although fifth year is rare seeing as only Ginny Weasley was invited. Interesting, because we all remember what happened with Snape his fifth year. You know, the time he very publicly called his “best friend” and Horace’s favorite student a deplorable slur. Good times, great times. I know it was after the O.W.L.s but as I stated, fifth years getting in is not common. So this incident ruined Snape’s chances, which were hanging by a thread at this point anyway.

Now, as for Lucius, he likely was never very open about his hatred of muggleborns and his is also charming. Not nearly as Tom was, nor as manipulative, but he was still very good. He managed to convince the Wizengamot that he had been Imperiused the whole time. And everyone believed him to the point of allowing him to be on important committees, though I know money helped a lot in the case. However, Lucius also had the advantage of having Abraxas Malfoy in the Club previously, which could have glossed over any slip ups that may or most certainly occurred

As a final word, looking at the pictures in the movies, Lucius was definitely there in one of them and looking at the one with Lily in it, there is no one there that could possibly be Snape, but that’s just a little detail. It’s still one I like, but little.

TL;DR: Horace did not like Snape enough to outweigh his more open Death Eater leanings, but Lucius was better at hiding it and was privileged enough for Horace to ignore any little thing that might have shown his true nature.

[ourpyrrhicvictory]

@abstainedevoured​ | abraxas & nadya.

❛ they give you just a little bit of power , and this is what you do with it. ❜ he makes a habit of complaining about the things done in his best interest , especially where she is concerned. he cannot allow himself —either of them , really— to become spoiled. fates are sealed and endings written , and while it won’t matter much after the fact , he has to remember that they will always be this fleeting thing , a tinderbox tryst that will burn and burn again to ash. ❛ were you waiting for me , or did you just prepare for whoever walked in next ? ❜ still , he removes his robes , setting them neatly beside hers so that their matching badges catch the torchlight just the same. ❛ i skipped dessert for this , you know. ❜

[mister-tom-a-dildo-lover]

Strive Pt. 12

{PART 1} {PART 2} {PART 3} {PART 4} {PART 5} {PART 6} {PART 7} {PART 8} {PART 9} {PART 10} {PART 11}

Pair: Tomarry

Rating: M-E(depends)

Tags: Mild Language, Homosexuality, Sexism, Obsessed Tom, Time-Travel/Dimension-Travel, Teacher/Student, Eventual Romance, Teacher-Harry, Grey!Harry, MoD(sort of), Death!being,

Watching as Lord Malfoy worked endlessly for all the Dark Artifacts in his family's possession to be removed in time, had been interesting. Apparently there was a secret chalet out in France that they had for special purposes. Such as hiding any incriminating evidence.

The House Elves weren't the only ones working this time. Lord Malfoy had to go from room to room inspecting every artifact he could find to make sure that everything had maintained its Grey aura. The Malfoys were know for Dark and Grey cores and in the current time, Grey was better than Dark.

Abraxas had been tasked with keeping Tom entertained while his parents moved double time to 'lighten' their manor.

"How did you find out, my lord?" Abraxas had asked him once they were esconced inside the Malfoy family's second best drawing room.

Obviously Tom did not feel pressured to tell his follower the truth. He merely stated that a reliable source had forewarned him before the beginning of the holiday. Technically it was truth in a way. Professor Potter was the most trustworthy person that Tom currently knew. The man seemed to be the only one who treated him like a normal person and took everything he said with sincere interest.

Not even Slughorn, who adored Tom the most, did that. Half of then time, he would wave away Tom's comments or observations as childish whimsy. It was annoying despite it being beneficial. Potter didn't put on airs. He was simply honest about his thoughts and didn't treat Tom like some juvenile schoolboy.

Some might think that to be foolish. Tom merely appreciated it after four months of getting a better understanding of the man.

Now they simply had to pass the holiday patiently, awaiting Dumbledore's interference.

When Tom awoke on Christmas morning, he found a few gifts at the foot of his bed. Even though Pureblood wizards in Britain did not observe the holiday, it was still celebrated by about half of the magical society. Not gifting others would ruin a reputation and especially to blood purists, that was not a good thing.

Tom had already sent his gifts back in November, so he wouldn't have to think more on it.

His followers had apparently remembered that they should tastefully, as the muggles said, kiss his arse, if they wanted to remain on his more pleasant side.

His gifts were are follows:

Malfoy- A new trunk, complete with dragon hide leather and his initials sewn in with golden thread. Tom's favourite part was the expanding library it came equipped with.

Nott- A gift voucher for Flourish and Blotts, equal to one thousand Galleons.

Avery(the younger sister)- A vial of Felix Felicis. She would need a reward.

Greengrass- A third edition copy of a book about the known history of the Founders of Hogwarts, that was written in 1329. The copy was written in Latin.

Carrow- A Foci Necklace to harness his magic should he ever need an extra bit of power. The stone was pure crystal in teardrop form, encased in a silver framework that looked like a spider web.

Mulciber- A book on the known magical artefacts of British history.

Crabbe- Dragon hide gloves.

Goyle- Dragon hide boots.

Some gifts were much more preferable than others, though he was grateful. To purchase the gifts for his followers, he had to employ use of the Imperius Curse to get a most honest sale. Some gifts made it easier on him in the future. Haggling was such a plebian activity after all.

Aurors had come. Tom had only seen them in person once before, when Myrtle's bloody had been taken away. They seemed much less of a threat to his existence now, and no matter how much they tried to appear threatening, he was in no way affected by their demands and harsh words.

Lord Malfoy, as expected, demanded a warrant. Once it was given, the Aurors were given free reign of the manor, but a House Elf was assigned to each to make certain nothing valuable went missing.

The Head Auror, whose name was revealed to be Timina Dodderage, had taken insult to that. Malfoy merely sneered something about the 'less than fortunate often being easily swayed by greed', which shut the woman's mouth quickly.

As expected, Tom's new trunk, which had been shrunken to a more manageable size and looped onto the necklace he'd received that morning, was brought up for being 'suspicious'. Lord Malfoy, no doubt feeling indebted to Tom, spoke on his behalf. The Aurors had a warrant for the building but not the living beings residing within it. If they wanted to search the people like they did in their fruitless endeavour with the manor, they could go and get a warrant for that as well.

A threat about going to the Minister was made, which ended up sending the Aurors off in a foul mood. Nothing incriminating had been discovered and a failed raid of a building would look bad on the team's records.

"Mr. Riddle, I believe that we owe you a debt."

Tom made sure that his almost malicious glee was well hidden behind his kind and helpful Head Boy mask.

In the late evening some nights later, Tom found himself being hailed by an owl that he had never seen before. Said owl was not a common Barn Owl and had red eyes and black feathers. The noise it had made to capture his attention had startled him momentarily. No soul would ever learn of such information.

It bore a letter that was a bit thicker than usual, due to something being shoved inside it.

No spells or curses on the parchment. It was just a letter.

When he broke the wax seal and turned the letter upside down, something heavy fell into his palm, and the chain it was connected to, dangled heavily between his fingers. It was beautiful and certainly of older craftsmanship. An emerald face and with nicely cut facets.

The note it came with however...

Your mother had owned this. In an attempt to save your

lives, she sold it to Mr. Borgin, and was cheated out of what

could have been thousands of Galleons. Slytherin's Locket

is no simple piece of jewelry. In desperation, she fled to

London in search of aid. I saw it in Borgin and Burke's

and decided it should be returned to you once and for all.

Many happy returns, Tom Marvolo Riddle.

If Tom were of any less intelligence, he would have been terrified that someone had known his birthday when he had divulged it to no one. Yet, despite there being no name on the note or the face of the envelope, he would recognise that writing anywhere.

What concerned him most, was how Professor Potter knew anything about Tom's mother.

[regulusblackfest]

Week 1 Round-Up

The first week is done and we already had a whole bunch of amazing creations! You can find all of them in a neat little list underneath the cut. Mind the tags/warnings and leave our awesome creators some love! ✨

crossed the border

Pairing/main character: Regulus Black & Charlie Weasley

Rating: Gen | Medium: moodboard

Summary: a mood board for Regulus Black Fest 2021

It would eat you like poison If you knew what I knew

Pairing/main characters: no pairing, Regulus Black

Rating: Teen | Warnings: cursing, smoking, minor character death | Word count: 4,431

Summary: Urðr's scissor's slipped and Tom Marvollo Riddle's thread was severed way too soon in his life, upsetting Skuld's carefully thought-out pattern of Fate tapestry. Thankfully, Verðandi has a solution.

5 times regulus surprised sirius + 1 time he didn’t

Pairing/main characters: Regulus Black, Sirius Black

Rating: Teen | Warnings: implied suicide resulting in canon Main Character Death,mourning for a dead sibling | Word count: 3.3k

Summary: sirius has been estranged from his younger brother for years, so why is he only noticing him now? it’s much too late for it anyway, because regulus has slipped through the cracks of a broken childhood: dead before he ever turned 17. both pov’s: sirius & regulus.

Beneath the Surface

Pairing/main characters: Regulus Black

Rating: Not Rated | Warnings: Mentions of Suicide, Major Character death | Word count: 950

Summary: "I hid in the basement once, just to see if anyone would notice. Nobody came, nobody realized I was gone." Regulus, the 'good boy', is never really seen by anyone.

Upon the Horizon's Verge

Pairing/main characters: Regulus Black/Sirius Black/Remus Lupin/James Potter; Regulus Black/Sirius Black; Remus Lupin/Regulus Black

Rating: Explicit | Warnings: Depression, suicidal ideation, brother x brother incest and dub-con of every variety (copious amounts of alcohol, implicit and explicit coercion and just generally not being above board). | Word count: 12,574

Summary:  Prompt: Instead of going after the horcrux alone, Regulus seeks his brother's help and inadvertently crashes James's stag night. Faced with drunken Marauders, he almost gives up but they surprise him by actually listening. Regulus wasn't sure what he expected to happen, but he definitely didn't expect to end the night in bed with his brother and his two best friends.

grey scale

Pairing/main character: Regulus Black

Rating: Gen | Medium: Moodboard

Summary: another mood board for Regulus Black Fest 2021

Problem Child

Pairing/main characters: Regulus Black & Sirius Black, Regulus Black & Hermione Granger, Sirius Black & Harry Potter

Rating: Teen | Word count: 2,592

Summary: Regulus has come a long way from a child desperate for his parents’ approval.

Rebirth (Coming Home)

Pairing: Harry Potter/Regulus Black

Rating: Teen | Warnings: off screen minor character death, resurrection magic, slow burn, implied Draco/Harry, implied Draco/Regulus | Word count: 15,638

Summary: Harry’s decrepit House Elf is dying. If things were normal, that would be a sad but ultimately natural thing. However, he’s Harry Potter and — of bloody course — nothing can ever be normal. Why shouldn’t Kreacher’s death have to involve Draco Malfoy, who Harry hasn’t seen in two years, and Regulus Black, who Harry has thought was dead for over twenty years?

Tell Me

Pairing/main characters: Regulus Black/James Potter

Rating: Teen | Word count: 2,749

Summary: Since moving out of the family home, Regulus and Sirius have been sharing a flat. But Sirius is ready to move on and move in with his boyfriend, meaning that Regulus must find a new flatmate. Sirius suggests James moves in, but Regulus isn't too sure about the idea, seeing as he's had a crush on him for years.

This is the Hour of Lead

Pairing/main characters: Remus Lupin/Regulus Black

Rating: Mature | Warnings: Stalking, obsession, sexual assault, emotional manipulation and suicidal ideation--almost all of which involves a minor. Written in second person (you/your) which could make those things worse for some people. | Word count: 5,142

Summary: Prompt: Regulus can't help the random shivers down his spine by the feeling of being constantly watched. (Intended for a dark fic--the invisibility cloak here is used as an instrument for stalkerism. The stalker may or may not act beyond merely following Regulus).

The father, the son, and the horcrux

Pairing/main characters: Regulus Black & Voldemort, Abraxas malfoy/Tom riddle, Regulus Black & Kreacher

Rating: Teens | Word count: 11,540

Summary: Regulus gets rescued from the cave by an unlikely source: the Dark Lord himself.

Haunted

Pairing/Main characters: Sirius Black. Regulus Black.

Rating: Teen | Word count: 3,300

Summary: After twelve years in Azkaban and another on the run, Sirius finally returns to Grimmauld Place where he finds his childhood home is haunted by the ghosts of his past. Literally.

[vestalee]

DATE & TIME: September 7th, Dinner Time LOCATION: Dead end landing on the Hogwarts Stairways STATUS: Closed @abraxasmlfoy

“ it’s something of a cliché to say that we all think we’re monsters. “

        "MMM. "    A SMALL IM LISTENING HUM FROM BETWEEN CLOSED LIPS as she looked up from seated spot with marble cold against the back of her legs and thinks, he's too close to the edge.

        A pair of lamps bracketed either side of their elevated platform, casting an smokey orange glow that melting along the segmented balustrade and described Abraxas Malfoy's hair like gilding as he leaned out into the empty air. Below them the labyrinthine mechanisms of Hogwarts' stairways continued their leisurely rotations. None of which seemed to be any rush to intersect with the landing they'd been stranded atop after one such set had altered it's trajectory, mid-ascent and then swung just as abruptly away. Them trapped, then, this unlikely chiaroscuro of a duo. A tapestry hiding solid brick at their backs, an open drop to the floors below at the front, and time stretched out between. Ticking out while Vesta cants her head and considers his remark. About clichés. About monsters.

      She thought first of toothsome things      not fanged     sharp edged smiles in aristocratic faces. She thought of massive tactile appendages crushing medieval stone. She thought of the bodies of merpeople washed ashore; water bloated corpses with slack jawed mouths open while the frothing surf rushed in  and in   a n d   i n .  She closed her eyes and for a moment thinks of a flowing current of people striding indifferently past a grimy doorway from which issues a rattling cough.

      It all seems relative to her and so she, small philosopher, elbowed back out of her own head. Simpler to offer Gallic shrug, to string the long fingers of one hand through thick dark hair, to look up at the boy standing across from her and search for some thin thread of understanding. Vesta appreciated the hum and purr of language, but bodies could be just as eloquent in the turn of a palm, the angle of one's jaw, the 'I don't know, you know?' rise and fall of shoulder. Vesta communicating as casual as she would with Kharmali or Irma.

                                         " What's a MONSTER? "