#int: andromeda

[cxpectopatronum]

—Sí, claro, es nuestro deber averiguar lo que contiene —se atrevió a decir con una pizca de humor que, reconocía, era mínima. Sin embargo, pretendía alejar los pensamientos oscuros de su cabeza.

– Creo que iré a probarla entonces. Me gusta lo dulce –reconoció– ¿Te gustaría ir? –decidió invitar al contrario. Hablar con alguien que no fueran clientes y su familia probablemente le haría bien, despejar la mente.

[continuousmeowing]

hfth has me switching between "i love these guys so much...." and "OH FUCK OH GOD JESUS CHRIST OHH NO OH NO" every few minutes

[nlghtlocked]

new tags !! new tag drop !!

[saturniasxenos]

Eternaunivian & Cosmos ID/NPT Pack

Ee - Tur - Nuh - Yoo - Nuh - Vee - Ihn

Eternaunivian is ETERIN and a subterm of the Eternalgender System. Those who identify as eternaunivian may feel as if their gender, or even their whole identity, has a deep, never-ending connection to the universe and anything apart of it (including but not limited to: Dark Matter, Stars, Planets, Galaxies, Black Holes). This can be used as an umbrella term for any space-related eternic genders. You could be a star and eternal, an eternal quasar, an eternalized planet, an eternal that likes the cosmos, a constellation eternal, and similar.

This gender may be constantly fluctuating and fluid between any space-related and eternic genders. This gender would be considered under the agender umbrella, but can be used by anyone regardless of femininity, masculinity, and neutrality.

Created and Coined by me. There is no correct way to use this flag and term.

Keep reading for Etymology & Cosmos ID Pack (Titles, Names, & Pronoun suggestions)

Etymology: Eternal, Universe, -ian (suffix),

Pronoun Suggestions:

Uni/Unive/Universe/Universes/Universeself

Sta/Star/Stary/Stars/Starself

Co/Cos/Cosmo/Cosmos/Cosmoself

Co/Cos/Cosmic/Cosmics/Cosmicself

Qu/Qua/Quasar/Quasars/Quasarself

Gal/Galae/Galaxy/Galaxys/Galaxyself

Ne/Nebulae/Nebula/Nebulas/Nebulaself

No/Novae/Nova/Novas/Novaself

Or/Orbi/Orbit/Orbits/Orbitself

An/Andro/Andromeda/Andromedas/Andromedaself

Mi/Milky/Milkyway/Milkyways/Milkywayself

Pla/Plan/Planet/Planets/Planetself

Sa/Satu/Saturn/Saturns/Saturnself

Plu/Plut/Pluto/Plutos/Plutoself

Jup/Jupi/Jupiter/Jupiters/Jupiterself

Ne/Nep/Neptune/Neptunes/Neptuneself

Ma/Mar/Mars/Marsics/Marsself

Co/Com/Comet/Comets/Cometself

Met/Meteo/Meteor/Meteors/Meteorself

Inte/Interstell/Interstellar/Interstellars/Interstellarself

Ast/Aster/Asteroid/Asteroids/Asteroidself

Su/Sunspo/Sunspot/Sunspots/Sunspotself

Celes/Celestiae/Celestial/Celestials/Celestialself

Zo/Zodi/Zodiac/Zodiacs/Zodiacself

Sco/Scorp/Scorpio/Scorpius/Scorpioself

Le/Leae/Leo/Leos/Leoself

Vi/Vir/Virgo/Virgos/Virgoself

Ca/Can/Cancer/Cancers/Cancerself

Astro/Astrol/Astrology/Astrologys/Astrologyself

Astro/Astron/Astronomy/Astronomys/Astronomyself

Au/Auro/Aurora/Auroras/Auroraself

🌕/🌕's

🪐/🪐's

☀/☀'s

⭐/⭐'s

☄️/☄️'s

🌙/🌙's

🌌/🌌's

🌠/🌠's

Title Suggestions :

(X) Who Watches The Stars

The Guardian of The Quasar

Emperor of The Moon

(X) Who Dances Amongst The Galaxy

The Child of Andromeda

(X) Who is Made of Stardust

The Lover of The Cosmos

The Will of Luna

The Eternalized Constellation

Song of Neptune

Melody of Jupiter

Love of Venus

The Flame of The Sun

(X) Who is Infinite

The Eternal Galaxy

(X) Who Was Born From Black Matter

Name Suggestions:

Some names may not be fem or masc, I just organized what I thought sounded the most masc, neu, or fem!! Many names originate from named stars in the galaxy! See this site for more named stars.

Fem: Ankaa, Aniara, Alasia, Aurora, Ayla, Astrid, Astra, Astraia, Ariel, Andromeda, Arista, Bellatrix, Danica, Dawn, Calypso, Celeste, Celestia, Cordelia, Cressida, Electra, Eris, Estrella, Gaia, Helene, Irena, Itonda, Luna, Lunar, Lyra, Maia, Merope, Mimosa, Mira, Nova, Nervia, Pleione, Phoenicia, Phoebe, Pandora, Seren, Selene, Stella, Starla, Solana, Star, Sunniva, Shaula, Thea, Umbriel, Venus, Vega, Veritas,

Masc: Alpheratz Archer, Apollo, Aries, Atlas, Ash, Altair, Altais, Antares, Arcturus, Taurus, Cyrus, Cosmo, Castor, Cepheus, Celestio, Draco, Eros, Fafnir, Felis, Galileo, Hunter, Jericho, Kiran, Kepler, Leo, Luca, Mars, Nox, Neptune, Oberon, Phoenix, Perseus, Pollux, Sterling, Sirius, Sol, Stellan, Titan, Theo, Zenith, Veritate,

Neu: Ancha, Aiolos, Artemis, Aster, Acrab, Algieba, Acrux, Atria, Achrid, Axólotl, Borea, Borealis, Cetus, Chertan, Comet, Cassiopeia, Crescent, Eden, Europa, Eclipse, Fulu, Funi, Galaxy, Graffias, Haedus, Io, Libra, Lynx, Lesath, Libertas, Moriah, Musica, Orbit, Orion, Polaris, Polis, Pisces, Phobos, Regulus, Rasalas, Denebola, Saturn, Solstice, Seraph, Scorpius, Scorpii, Soleil, Sargas, Spica, Sceptrum, Solaris, Tevel, Virgo, Vesper, Zephyr, Zosma

[cxpectopatronum]

—Suena poético —mostró una sonrisa. No sabía si era cierto, pero sonaba bien—. Andrómeda... Oh, claro, tu nombre es Andrómeda. —Claro que conocía su nombre, pero hasta ese momento lo asimiló. Ahora entendía el punto. Además, conocía a su familia, tenían un nombre referente a constelaciones—. Bueno, no creo que exista una llamada Michael —intentó bromear—. Es un tema muy interesante, me han gustado las exposiciones.

– Así es, como si el cielo quisiera ser visto –respondió, aunque sabía que era una cosa de azar– Pues en general me gusta verlas todas, aunque claro, espero ver a Andrómeda –comentó con un deje bromista en su voz. Siempre buscaba por la que llevaba el nombre, aunque más allá de eso, en general era una aficionada a las estrellas. Herencia de familia y su obsesión con sus nombres, suponía– ¿Y tú? –preguntó interesada en la opinión ajena.

[ampresandian]

A scene I want in Season 2 (I would place it in probably episode 3, covering chapters 8-10, which I would title "We Board the Princess Andromeda")

INT. HALFBLOOD HIDEOUT - EVENING. THALIA and YOUNG ANNABETH are inside the hideout. Three sleeping bags are set out and the girls are cleaning up a meal and reorganizing their belongings. YOUNG ANNABETH: (huffs) Annabeth is clearly frustrated, pulling a twig out of her hair as she tries to focus on her task. THALIA: Hey, Annie. Let me help. Thalia approaches, assisting Annabeth with the cleaning. Annabeth pulls something else out of her hair. YOUNG ANNABETH: I just wish it was gone! THALIA: Is your hair bothering you? YOUNG ANNABETH: I just can't keep it from getting tangled in everything. THALIA: Can I help? I'll pick the leaves out and then maybe we can tie it up better? Annabeth nods, sitting on the floor to give Thalia a better view. Thalia carefully removes leaves and twigs. YOUNG ANNABETH: When is Luke coming back? THALIA: He should be back soon, he just went to go see... if he could find more supplies. Thalia seems unsure, but Annabeth happily accepts the answer. YOUNG ANNABETH: I'm sure he will. Luke is very smart. Thalia nods thoughtfully, finishing removing debris from the younger girl's hair. THALIA: All done. Now, what should we do with it? YOUNG ANNABETH: (thoughtful) Well, my dad took me to get it braided once, and that stayed really well, but it took forever. And I don't know if you know how to do that. THALIA: I don't think so, kiddo. Sorry. I'll learn. YOUNG ANNABETH: Maybe you could just tie it back like yours? Thalia frowns, looking at the afro. THALIA: Not exactly like mine, but maybe... Can I try something? We can figure something else out if you don't like it. Annabeth nods, and Thalia gets to work separating her hair and pulling it into two buns on top of her head. THALIA (cont): I don't know if that'll help it get less tangled, but maybe we can try it? YOUNG ANNABETH: It'll be better. Thank you! Annabeth hugs Thalia.

[sapphim]

sorry to bother - im trying to figure out how to work with plot flags in frosty editor for dav, and i know you 1. made the bi cassandra mod (my beloved) 2. make modding tutorials. any chance of seeing a tutorial for how you did it? only if it wouldnt be too much trouble!

Well believe it or not, I didn't make Bi Cass in Frosty. I made it with DAI Modding Tool and a hex editor. I don't recommend it. ;)

While the details change between games, the general structure of a conversation (child or linked lines, conditions, actions) really doesn't, so I am going to recommend you check out the first two parts of my Dialogue Modding Tutorial. It was written specifically for Origins and DA2 but the basic overview is largely applicable.

The exact structure of plot flags IS something that differs slightly between the Eclipse engine games and Frostbite games, although their purpose is still the same. Iirc plot flags in Inq and Andromeda each have their own GUID (unique identifier) rather than being a GUID+int pair. They also have counters, sometimes, rather than always being boolean (true/false). And a lot of the time rather than referencing individual plot flags, conversations will reference plot schematics, which are a separate file that can compare the results of multiple flags and other variables. They're a lot like defined flags in the Eclipse games.

Uhhhh in my limited experience making romance mods for Inq and Andromeda, the exact plot flags and plot schematics involved were all very easy to work with, mostly with human readable names and everything, which is always a plus. Other plot flags were uhhhhhhhhhh not always nearly so nice, so it's kind of luck of the draw there.

I don't know if there is anything of use to you in these two other asks I've answered about Frostbite modding but I'll link them anyway just in case: On dialogue modding, and on war table missions. (I never did end up writing that tutorial I mentioned in that one post because I quit Frostbite modding shortly after. Nothing against Frosty editor, however, it's a very good tool and easy to work with.)

If you need any other specific help with Frosty or Veilguard, your best bet is going to be found on Discord. I have links to some servers in my pinned faq.

[power-chords]

Some stream of consciousness Andor thoughts: Tony Gilroy, MVP. This is Star Wars but it’s also Vietnam War, Cold War, Bone Wars (lmao). The intercutting of past/present pursuits and escapes, transitions from one world to the next: growing up, leaving home twice over, the passage from a form of adolescent naïveté to adult disillusionment. Both involve a figurative dimension. Kassa encountering his reflection and then smashing at it in anger and confusion hurted a little bit, NGL. Especially after him witnessing the death of an intriguing elder girl. (Was she a relative? I may have to re-watch that episode, I could have missed it.) I’m only up to episode three, so I have no idea what those glossy black racks contained, but my gut says: data. That’s an archive. Of what? Of information? Of life? (Well, what’s the difference, I suppose.) Some major Andromeda Strain/Space Odyssey vibes from that spooky ghost ship. Cassian is in this sense poisoned by association. And what he attempts to bring with him in his escape off-planet is essentially a totemic artifact representing safeguarded open speech. Oof. P.S. Anon: I have yet to get to your ask but I will be digging in eventually on those sources you recommended, thank you, I am sure there are plenty other references I missed.

I love that I thought Kassa was a girl at first. Women are always part of the action, as scavengers and mystics and… middlemen! Be still my heart. (The implication is in fact that Cassian learns his tradecraft from them, after being witness to the death of one who is either stupid or brave or both — there is both context and totally open-ended non-context in that ritual expedition, since we have no idea what any pre-existing ones look like, yet or possibly ever.) I love that the dipshit little footstool droid is all Int and like zero Wis and yet still has attitude, extremely relatable. Next post Stellan Skarsgaard and that crazy encounter/shootout sequence. No comment on Bix!!!

[irasceris]

Damon, in the rare occurrences he bothers to consider his human life, recognizes that time in two distinct segments: before vampires, and after vampires. Both are blurry on purpose. Humanity is a short, useless, fragile thing, and in the grand scheme of it, that life was a blip on his radar. A humble origin that shouldn't apply now, and certainly shouldn't be dug up by strangers. Naive, maybe, to believe his mother died in a world before all the supernatural nightmares, but it makes enough sense. Small town, small council, big secrets. He just doesn't like the idea of the two histories existing in conjunction. Puts a rotten taste in his mouth, hearing this stranger talk about his mother like she knows her. A vampire, he imagines, because who else would have been around to remember Lily? Though she speaks fondly, it feels like an invasion of his privacy. He doesn't take that kind of thing well. You look like her. Damon's jaw tightens. Yeah, he's heard that one before. Just not in a very, very long time.

"That doesn't answer my question, lady." She's proven she knows something, but he's still got no clue how. "You're a good century and a half late to this party. Why show up now?" Granted, he'd missed the funeral, too. Also on purpose, but he doesn't like to dwell on the hell little Stefan gave him for that, either. "Don't tell me this is some freaky, bone stealing gig you got going on. Let the woman rest." They both seem well aware she didn't get to do much of that alive.

✨ → "i prefer to leave the name of a monster out of my mouth, actually." is the heretics cool reply to his clear assumption. it hadn't been often that lily had spoken of her human life - like the rest of their family, the past was far too painful to dwell on, but over the decades bits and pieces came out when her humanity was left on a tad too long until those memories and feeling too began to fade away. it was easier to forget - and sometimes she wished she could as well. "she's more than a name on a stone. she is lilian salvatore, who bought train tickets to escape with her sons to new york before thanksgiving 1851 only to have her plans foiled, suffered for years in a loveless and abusive marriage before being sent away while dying to a tb ward by her husband who she despised to die surrounded by strangers while her two boys were left behind without a goodbye with a monster. she didn't want to leave them, but she had no choice." it was why the woman she knew kept her humanity off, it was why she'd chosen to forget and had pushed the lot of them to - drowning in grief and sorrow for eternity was no way to live. "you look like her, you know."

[braveclementine]

Chapter 27

Warnings: None. However, future chapters will contain sexual content so readers that are under the age of 18 may have to skip those chapters (Please keep note of the warnings).

Copyright: I do not own any Wizarding World characters that J.K. Rowling wrote. I do however own Elizabeth Kane (main character) and Trang Nyguen (best friend). There should be no use of these two names without my permission. I also do not condone any copying of this.

𝕬𝖓 𝖊𝖓𝖙𝖎𝖗𝖊 𝖕𝖑𝖔𝖙 of land had been cleared by the Ministry of Magic (ie Kingsley) for the burial of the Fallen Fifty. Yes, even though I had saved Dad, Tonks, Severus, and Lavenders' lives, it seemed fate found a way to replace those four lives with those of the Slytherins who had fought alongside us. 

The cemetery was beautiful, hidden just outside of the city, where the sunlight barely managed to filter through the dense canopy of trees. It was unlike any other I had ever seen, as if nature had been given free rein to create a masterpiece of her own. The air was heavy with the scent of countless flowers that seemed to bloom in defiance of the season, their vibrant colours painting the landscape in hues of red, green, yellow, and blue.

 The grass was lush and green, dotted with fresh tombstones of marble that would tell the stories of the brave men and women who had fought in battle. Birdsong filled the air, competing with the soft rustling of leaves as they danced in the gentle breeze.

There were wooden chairs that had been set up in front of the podium where the small man who had spoke at Dumbledore's funeral would be speaking. They were filling up as I stood on the small stage that Lee and I had set up beforehand, overlooking the crowd. 

The Weasleys were the ones I laid eyes upon first, their heads of red hair bright in the sun. When George looked up at us, I swept my eyes over the rest of the crowd, unable to look him in the face. 

Severus was in the very back with Dad, Tonks, Trang, and Andromeda. They were sitting with Remus, Minerva, Elijah Kingsley, and Teddy so that if they started to cry, they would be able to run with them so they didn't disturb the funeral. 

More chairs were added as more people showed up. There was, of course, the survivors of the Battle of Hogwarts, but also family members and friends who hadn't been there. My heart clenched when I saw Dennis Creevy sitting with a tall father who resembled Colin greatly. Both of them were crying silently, but proudly. 

I should've saved Colin too. Somehow. 

"Are you ready?" Lee asked me quietly. 

I turned slightly to look at him. We had been practicing this for the past week to make sure it was perfect for today. I had known Lee enjoyed singing and even had some band friends whose names were Luke, Ryan, and Aaron. Together we had formed our own sort of band, at least for now. 

They thought I had created the entire song, which I had taken out of my memories and put in a pensive to see if they could recreate it. They had been very successful and the song was perfect the last couple of days we had practiced. 

It wasn't, of course, my own. Rather a song that I had used to listen to when I had been int he other world. One I had listened to because it was a 'fan' song for the Wizarding World. One to portray how much the death of the characters meant to them, even though they 'weren't real'. Regardless, I would now take this song from Dr. Gates' world, and bring it alive in mine. 

I fidgeted with my dress slightly, tugging it lower slightly so that it was at knee length instead of above. "Yeah, I think so anyways. It's just. . . I think my main problem will be trying not to cry." 

Lee nodded, looking out at the crowd as the funeral director stepped up onto the platform. "That will be hardest part." 

We sat down in our chairs on the stage, but I couldn't listen to a single word the man said. All I could do was look at all the faces, shining and red with tears, and think about all of the ways I could have saved their loved ones. . . if I hadn't been so selfish to save my own. 

I could've told others, could've told everyone. Or I could've passed liquid luck out to everyone. I should have come up with a better plan. 

But I had been so scared to change the future by an inch, so scared it would prevent me from saving my family. 

I wondered if it was worth it. 

Lee gently touched my hand, making me realize that the band was setting up. I got to my feet slowly, approaching the microphone. I would be singing nearly the entire song though Lee would be helping with the chorus and the other three would join in for vocalizing. 

The coffins were brand new with a design that was modern and sleek. Its lines were clean and uncluttered, its curves soft and inviting. It was made from a sustainable blend of oak wood and metal, a testament to the changing times. A small bronze plaque on the coffin's lids bore the name of the deceased, along with the years of their birth and death.

On a nearby table next to the stage, there was a small surprise that I had set up. I just hoped I was able to sing and concentrate on the magic at the same way. 

I took a deep breath and started to sing. 

 "I'm tired and thin Haven't slept since the war I'm a mess of wounded skin Like a wine sack that's been torn

In the sacred space Behind the lids of my eyes Mad-Eye darkly holds my gaze And I can still see Frederick's laughing face." 

At this point, I let my wand point to the table, letting the two lanterns float up into the slowly darkening sky. I had asked to do this near nighttime so that they would show up better. The lanterns lit up, showing the pictures that accompanied them. . . Uncle Moody who was looking at everyone, and Fred who was laughing. 

After that, the lanterns kept coming, even as I continued to sing. Colin and Professor Vector and Professor Burbage and the Fallen Fifty. 

"It's not enough,  To say that time Can mend my wings That one day I'll fly"

Lee sang along with me as the photos continued to float up and coffins were lowered down into the soft ground. If anyone had stopped crying, they were sobbing now, seeing the faces of their loved ones. 

"And it's not enough  This acheless scar Some wounds are still burning Let me live as one earning his life" 

Lee: And we all fall down And we all fall down 

Me: Behind the lids of my eyes I can still see Frederick's laughing face

Lee: Far away

Me: And I can still see Fredericks' laughing face. 

Now I sang the line and Lee sang the echo. 

It's not enough (not enough)  To say that time (say that time)

Something surprising was happening. . . the crowd was joining in with Lee. I felt my heart soar, especially as the lanterns were now portraying different faces: The faces of Dumbledore and Sirius and Cedric and the faces of the people who had died to Voldemort before he had really taken control. 

Can mend my wings (mend my wings) That one day I'll fly (one day I'll fly) It's not enough (not enough) This acheless scar (acheless scar) Some wounds are still burning (wounds are still burning) Let me live as one earning his life (earning his life)

Lee: Darkest nights turn into dawns Golden lights are chords for songs of love Something death cannot erase

The rest of the song was instrumental as the last four photos showed up: Lily and James Potter, and Frank and Alice Longbottom, a tribute to both of our sets of parents for giving up their different sacrifices so that their children could end the Dark Lord they had so valiantly fought against. 

Lee sang the very last part, which was just a very simple: Far away~

The lanterns went out , the pictures dissolving into golden dust. The coffins finished settling into their already made holes, wands waving gently through the air to cover them with freshly dug up dirt. The headstones glowed brightly in the moonlight and slowly the people moved to visit the graves. 

I sighed, turning away from the crowd. Lee was still staring out at the crowd, but he looked down at me now. "Luna is right you know." 

"Oh?" I asked softly. 

Lee nodded, pulling me into a hug, "We're going to see them again someday." 

"Yes." I whispered, thinking of the stone that Harry had dropped in the forest. They were still out there, still existed, and I would see them all in death. "Yes we will." 

⬅️➡️

[otunnicliffe]

Chloe + Harry Potter And The Philosophers Stone

Chapter One: The Twins Who Lived

'Alright then Dumbledore, do you want to read the first chapter?' 

Albus Dumbledore simply nods at McGonagall, and opens the book. 'This Chapter', he booms, 'Is called 'The Twins Who Lived'.

'Ooh! That'll be Chloe and Harry!' Alice exclaims to Gwendolyn excitedly. 

Mr and Mrs Dursley of-

'Wait, I thought this was about Chloe and Harry?' Regulus says, abruptly stopping Dumbledore's storytelling. 'Who are the Dursleys?'

'Dursley... that name does ring a bell, but I can't put my finger on why.' Gwendolyn ponders.

'Isn't your sister, Petunia, dating a Dursley?' Kimberly asks.

'AHA! That's it!' Gwendolyn exclaims. 'Is it?'

'Yes, Miss Evans, the Dursleys are your sister and her husband,' McGonagall says.

'Why are we starting the story off with a bunch of muggles?' Narcissa scorns. 'Why aren't we talking about Chloe and Harry, or even Gwendolyn and James?' With this, everyone erupts into conversations filled with confusion about the beginning of this tale.

'Everyone!' Dumbledore booms, and the room instantly falls silent. 'Everything will be exclaimed. Now, if you all don't mind, let's use our ears and listen to the tale.'

Mr and Mrs Dursley, of number four, Privet Drive, were proud to say that they were perfectly normal, thank you very much.

'Don't exactly know why you'd be so proud of being normal,' Xenophilius mutters to Barty Jr. 'I personally find normal to be very boring indeed'.

'I agree mate,' Barty Jr whispered back. 

They were the last people you'd expect to be involved in anything strange or mysterious, because they just didn't hold with such nonsense. 

Mr Dursley was the director of a firm called Grunnings, which made drills.

'I won't lie,' Sirius exclaims, as he shuffled down in his beanbag, hands going behind his head, 'That sounds like the deadest job ever.'

'I agree,' Calls Peter, mouth full of sweet treats.

'Ew, Pete!' Arabella groans. 'Swallow before you wallow!'

'Sorry,' Peter muffles, clearly not being very sorry at all.

He was a big, beefy man with hardly any neck, although he did have a very large mustache.

'He sounds like a right looker,' Andromeda exclaims, sarcastically, and the room erupted into laughter.

Mrs Dursley was thin and blonde and had nearly twice the usual amount of neck, which became useful as she spent so much of her time craning over garden fences, spying on the neighbours.

'That is deffo your sister, Gwen!' Arabella announces, Kimberly next to her chuckling in agreement.

'This book isn't very nice about my poor sister,' Gwendolyn says, whole trying not to laugh at the trueness of the definition of Petunia.

The Dursleys had a small son called Dudley and in their opinion there was no finer boy anywhere.

'This is a lovely description and all,' says Bellatrix, who was already laid back on her seat, already very bored. 'But what does this have to do with us?'

'Patience, Miss Lestrange, Patience.'

The Dursleys had everything they wanted, but they also had a secret, and their greatest fear was that somebody would discover it. They didn't think they could bear it if anyone found out about the Potters.

'What's wrong with the Potters?' James cried, defensively as he suddenly sat up in his chair.

'Do you want a list?' Severus cut in.

'Snivellous, watch it!

'James leave it!' Gwendolyn exclaimed, and James gave Severus the finger and turned away from him.

Mrs Potter was Mrs Dursleys sister, but they hadn't met for several years; in fact, Mrs Dursley pretended she didn't have a sister,

'Me and my sister don't get along?' Gwendolyn exclaimed sadly. This garnered sympathetic looks from most of the people int hat room, apart from a few Slytherins, who really couldn't care less. 

,because her sister and her good-for-nothing husband

'Way harsh!' James objected. 'I am NOT good-for-nothing!'

were as unDursleyish as it was possible to be.

'Well I don't want to be like them anyway,' James exclaimed proudly, 'Do we Gwen?'

'Nope,' Gwen responded, letting out a small smile. James took this as a win.

The Dursleys shuddered to think what the neighbours would say if the Potters arrived in the street. The Dursleys knew that the Potters had children too, twins, one girl and one boy, but they had never seen either of them. Those children were another good reason for keeping the Potters away; they didn't want Dudley mixing with a child like that.

When Mr and Mrs Dursley woke up on a dull, grey Tuesday out story starts

'Merlin, has it only just started!' Bellatrix groans.

,there was nothing about the cloudy sky outside to suggest that strange and mysterious things would soon be happening all over the country.

'What things?' Asked Peter, looking up from all the food he'd been eating.

'If you let the man talk, he'll tell us, stop interrupting!' Amos exclaims, also already fed up of this book.

'That was rude,' Peter mutters, but nonetheless shutting up to let Dumbledore continue.

Mr Dursley hummed as he picked out his most boring tie for work and Mrs Dursley gossiped away happily as she wrestled a screaming Dudley into his high chair.

'Lovely child,' drawls Lucius, with disgust.

None of them noticed a large tawny owl flutter past the window.

At half past eight, Mr Dursley picked up his briefcase, pecked Mrs Dursley on the cheek and tried to kiss Dudley goodbye but missed, because Dudley was now having a tantrum and throwing his cereal at the wall.

'What a delightful child', Kimberly quipped, not even trying to hide her obvious sarcasm.

'Little tyke' chortled Mr Dursley as he left the house. He got into his car and backed out of number four's drive.

'He's got a car!' Exclaimed Arthur excitedly, looking up.

'Most people in the Muggle world do,' Gwendolyn explained.

'Well I am very jealous of Muggles!'

It was on this corner of the street that he noticed the first sign of something peculiar- a cat reading a map.

Everyone suddenly turned to look at McGonagall.

'You're in this story too!' Amos exclaimed.

'Well of course, Mr Diggory,' She said, trying her hardest to hold back her smile. 

For a second, Mr Dursley didn't realize what he had seen- then he jerked his head around to look again. There was the tabby cat standing on the corner of Privet Drive, but there wasn't a map in sight. What could he have been thinking?

'Oh Minnie, confusing Muggles yet again,' Sirius remarks, grinning broadly.

It must have been a trick of the light. Mr Dursley blinked and stared at the cat. It stared back.

'McGonagall, no offense, but you really need to work on your being a cat skills,' Regulus jokes.

As Mr Dursley drove around the corner and up the road, he watched the cat in his mirror. It was now reading the sign that said Privet Drive- no, looking at the sign; cats couldn't read maps or signs.

'Lies, we all know one who can.' Molly exclaims, pointing at McGonagall giddily.

Mr Dursley gave himself a little shake and put the cat out of his mind. As he drove towards town he thought of nothing except a large order of drills he was hoping to get that day.

But on the edge of town, drills were driven out of his mind by something else. As he sat in the usual morning traffic jam, he couldn't help noticing that there seemed to be a lot of strangely dressed people about. 

'Wizards wearing wizarding clothes in the Muggle world?' Alice quizzed.

'That's strange. That's like one of the things we know not to do!' Narcissa remarks, also looking puzzled.

People in cloaks. Mr Dursley couldn't bear people who dressed in funny clothes- the get-ups you saw on young people! He supposed this was some stupid new fashion. He drummed his fingers on the steering wheel and his eyes fell on a huddle of these weirdos standing quite close by. Mr Dursley was enraged to see that a couple of them weren't young at all; why, that man had to be older than he was, and wearing an emerald green cloak!

'Something big has happened,' Murmured Barty, 'Something huge in our world'. 

The nerve of him! But then it struck Mr Dursley that this was probably some silly stunt- these people were obviously collecting for something...

'Stupid muggles!' Chortled Bellatrix.

...yes that would be it. The traffic moved on, and a few minutes later, Mr Dursley arrived in the Grunnings car park, his mind back on drills. 

Mr Dursley always sat with his back to the window in his office on the ninth floor. If he hadn't he might have found it harder to concentrate on drills that morning. He didn't see the owls swooping past in broad daylight, though people down in the street did; they pointed and gazed open-mouthed as owl after owl sped overhead.

'I'm presuming that it isn't normal for owls to do that in the Muggle world?' Andromeda asks Gwendolyn. 

'No. it's not at all,' Gwendolyn responds, brows furrowed in confusion.

'Question.' Remus says. 'Why are we reading about this? What about Gwen or Prongs? Or Chloe and Harry?'

'Patience, Mr Lupin, and all will be revealed.'

Most of them had never seen an owl even at night-time. Mr Dursley, however, had a perfectly fine owl-free morning. He yelled at five different people. He made several important telephone calls

'What's a telephone?' Arthur asks.

Gwendolyn got him a pen and a sheet of paper, and handed it to him with the instruction of 'write what you don't know and I'll explain later'.

and shouted a bit more. He was in a very good mood until lunch-time, when he thought he'd stretch his legs and walk across the road to buy himself a bun from the bakers opposite.

'Lard-arse,' Arabella exclaimed.

He'd forgotten all about the people in cloaks until he passed a group of them next to the baker's. He eyed them angrily as he passed. He didn't know why, but they made him uneasy. This lot were whispering excitedly, too, and he couldn't see a single collecting tin.

'Stupid Muggle, they aren't collecting anything!' Bellatrix says.

It was on his way back past them, clutching a large doughnut in a bag, that he caught a few words of what they were saying.

'Is this when we find out what happened?' Regulus said, trying to contain his excitement.

Everyone now, even Bellatrix, was listening intently.

'The Potters, that's right, that's what I heard- yes, their children, Chloe and Harry-'

'What happened to them?' Asked Gwendolyn, looking nervous.

'Why is everyone talking about us?' James asked, also looking nervous.

'Patience Miss Evans and Mr Potter, all will be explained.'

Mr Dursley stopped dead. Fear flooded him. He looked back at the whisperers as if he wanted to say something to them, but thought better of it.

He dashed back across the road, hurried up to his office, snapped at his secretary not to disturb him, seized his telephone and had almost finished dialing home when he changed his mind. He put the receiver down and stroked his mustache, thinking... no, he was being stupid. Potter wasn't such an unusual name. He was sure that there were lots of people called potter that had children named Chloe and Harry. Come to think of it, he wasn't even sure his niece and nephew were called Chloe and Harry. He'd never even seen either of them, the girl or the boy. It might have been Charlotte and Harvey. Or Clara and Harold.

'Harold!' James exclaimed, his nose wrinkling in disgust. 'What a horrible name, why would I name my child that!'

There was no point in worrying Mrs Dursley, she always got so upset at the mention of her sister. He didn't blame her- if he'd had a sister like that..

'A sister like what!' Arabella exclaimed defensively. 'Gwendolyn is so much better than Petunia, that bitch!'

'I agree!' James says. 'I'd be more worried about his wife more than anything else.

...but all the same, those people in cloaks... 

He found it a lot harder to concentrate on drills that afternoon, and when he left the building at five o'clock, he was still so worried that  he walked straight into someone just outside of the door. 

'Sorry,' he grunted, as the tiny old man stumbled and almost fell. It was two seconds before Mr Dursley realized that the man was wearing a violet cloak. He didn't seem at all upset at being almost knocked to the ground. On the contrary, his face split into a wide smile and he said in a squeaky voice that made passers-by stare: 'Don't be sorry my dear sir, for nothing could upset me today! Rejoice, for You-Know-Who has gone at last!

'WHAT!' Came the collective shout from everyone in that room, excluding the teachers.

'He's gone?' James exclaimed loudly, 'But how?'

'That will be revealed soon, Mr Potter.'

Even Muggles like yourself should be celebrating, this happy happy day!'

And the old man hugged Mr Dursley around the middle and walked off.

Mr Dursley stood rooted to the spot. He had been hugged by a complete stranger. He also thought he had been called a Muggle, whatever that was. He was rattled. He hurried to his car and set off home, hoping his was imagining things, which he had never hoped before, because he didn't approve of imagination.

'Shock me,' Remus said quietly. Kimberly chuckled.

As he pulled into the driveway of number four, the first thing he saw- and it didn't improve his mood- was the tabby cat he'd spotted this morning.

Everyone turned to stare at McGonagall once again. 

It was now sitting on his garden wall. He was sure that it was the same one; it had the same markings around its eyes.

'Shoo!' said Mr Dursley loudly. 

The cat didn't move. It just gave him a stern look. Was this normal cat behaviour, Mr Dursley wondered. Trying to pull himself together, he let himself into the house. He was still determined not to mention anything to his wife. 

Mrs Dursley had had a nice, normal day. She told him over dinner all about Mrs Next Door's problems with her daughter and how Dudley had learnt a new word (shan't!). Mr Dursley tried to act normally. When Dudley had been put to bed, he went into the living-room in time to catch the last report on the evening news:

'And finally, bird-watchers everywhere have reported that the nation's owls have been behaving very unusually today. Although owls normally hunt at night and are hardly ever seen in daylight, there have been hundreds of sightings of these birds flying in every direction since sunrise. Experts are unable to explain why the owls have suddenly changed their sleeping pattern.' The news reader allowed himself a grin. 'Most mysterious. And now, over to Jim McGuffin with the weather. Going to be any more showers of owls tonight, Jim?'

'Well, Ted,' said the weatherman, 'I don't know about that, but it's not only the owls that have been acting oddly today. Viewers as far apart as Kent, Yorkshire and Dundee have been phoning to tell me that instead of the rain I promised yesterday, they've had a downpour of shooting stars!'

'Shooting stars!' Exclaimed Gwendolyn. 'No wonder they're all wondering what's going on!'

Perhaps people have been celebrating Bonfire Night early- it's not until next week, folks! But I can promise a wet night tonight.'

Arthur added 'Bonfire Night' to his list.

Mr Dursley sat frozen in his armchair. Shooting stars all over Britain? Owls flying by daylight? Mysterious people in cloaks all over the place? And a whisper, a whisper about the Potters...

Mrs Dursley came into the living-room carrying two cups of tea. It was no good. He'd have to say something to her. He cleared his throat nervously. 'Er- Petunia, dear- you haven't heard from your sister lately, have you?'

As he expected, Mrs Dursley looked shocked and angry. After all, they normally pretended she didn't have a sister.

'I always knew she didn't like me, but I didn't think she would take it this far!' Gwendolyn exclaimed, sadly. She once again received sympathetic looks from most of the inhabitants of the room. James put his arm around her comfortingly, and she softly smiled.

'No,' she said sharply. 'Why?'

'Funny stuff on the news,' Mr Dursley mumbled.' Owls... shooting stars... and there were a lot of funny-looking people in town today...'

'So?' snapped Mrs Dursley.

'Well I just thought... maybe... it was something to do with... you know.. her lot.'

'Is that us he's referring to?' Andromeda asks. 'Witches and Wizards?' Dumbledore nodded.

Mrs Dursley sipped her tea through pursed lips. Mr Dursley wondered whether he dared tell her he'd heard the name 'Potter'. He decided he didn't dare. Instead, he said, as casually as he could. 'This twins- they'd be about Dudley's age now, wouldn't they?'

'I suppose so,' Said Mrs Dursley stiffly. 

"What's their names again? Clara and Howard, isn't it?'

'Chloe and Harry. Nasty, common name, if you ask me.'

'Says the one who named their child 'Dudley''. Kimberly scoffed.

'Chloe and Harry are nice names, especially in comparison to Dudley!' Regulus agreed. 

'Oh, yes,' said Mr Dursley, his heart sinking horribly. 'Yes, I quite agree.'

'He can't talk about names!' Gwendolyn says defensively. 'His name is Vernon.'

This sent James into a pit of laughter. 

'Who names their child Vernon?' Alice says, giggling.

He didn't say another word on the subject as they went upstairs to bed. While Mrs Dursley was in the bathroom, Mr Dursley crept to the bedroom window and peered down into the front garden. The cat was still there. it was staring down Privet Drive as though it was waiting for something.

'But what!' Remus asks, getting rather annoyed. 'What does this have to do with Gwen and Prongs?'

'Patience, Mr Lupin.'

'I don't have that at the moment.'

Was he imagining things? Could all this have anything to do with the Potters? If it did.. if it got out that they were related to a pair of-

'Pair of what?' James asks, defensively. 'What's wrong with me and Gwen?'

well, he didn't think he could bear it.

'Well, I can't bear the fact that I'm gonna be related to you!' James says. 'Such a horrible, boring man!'

The Dursleys got into bed. Mrs Dursley fell asleep quickly but Mr Dursley lay awake, turning it all over in his mind. His last, comforting thought before he feel asleep was that even if the Potters were involved, there was no reason for them to come near him and Mrs Dursley. The Potters knew very well what he and Petunia thought about them and their kind...  

'What's his issue with us?' Amos asks.

'He perceives us as not normal,' Xenophilius explains. 'And he only likes normal things.'

He couldn't see how he and Petunia could get mixed up in anything that might be going on. He yawned and turned over. It couldn't affect them...

How very wrong he was. 

'What do you mean by that?' James asked quizzically.

'Do we turn up at their doorstep?' Gwendolyn asks.

'Patience, Miss Evans, Mr Potter.'

Mr Dursley might have been drifting into an uneasy sleep, but the cat on the the wall outside was showing no signs of sleepiness. 

All eyes again returned to McGonagall.

It was sitting as still as a statue, its eyes fixed unthinkingly on the far corner of Privet Drive. It didn't so much as quiver when a car door slammed in the next street, nor when two owls swooped overhead. In fact, it was nearly midnight before the cat moved at all.

'Where you not bored?' Regulus asks.

A man appeared on the corner the cat had been watching, appeared so suddenly and silently you'd have thought he'd just popped out of the ground. 

All eyes went to Dumbledore.

'Is it you, sir?' Molly asks.

Dumbledore shrugs, but the grin on his face gave it away that it was, in fact, him.

The cat's tail twitched and its eyes narrowed. 

Nothing like this man had ever been seen in Privet Drive. He was tall, thin and very old,  judging by the silver of his hair and beard. which were both long enough to tuck into his belt. He was wearing long robes, a purple cloak which swept the ground and high-heeled, buckled boots. His blue eyes, were light, bright and sparkling behind half-moon spectacles and his nose was very long and crooked, as though it had been broken at least twice. This man's name was Albus Dumbledore. 

'But why are you at Privet Drive?' Remus asks. 'What happened?'

'Once again, patience Mr Lupin.'

Albus Dumbledore didn't seem to realise that he had just arrived in a street where everything from his name to his boots was unwelcome. He was busy rummaging in his cloak, looking for something. But he did seem to realise he was being watched, because he looked up suddenly at the cat, which was still staring at him from the other end of the street. For some reason, the sight of the cat seemed to amuse him. He chuckled and muttered 'I should have known'.

He had found what he was looking for in his inside pocket. It seemed to be a silver cigarette lighter. He flicked it open, held it up into the air and clicked it. The nearest street light went out with a pop.

'Oh that's so cool!' Frank exclaimed.

He clicked it again- the next lamp flickered into darkness. Twelve times he clicked the Put-Outer, until the only lights left in the whole street were two tiny pinpricks in the distance, which were the eyes of the cat watching him. If anyone looked out of their window now, even beady-eyed Mrs Dursley, they wouldn't be able to see anything that was happening down on the pavement. 

'I bet your sister would have still tried though, right Gwen?' Arabella teased. Gwendolyn chuckled lightly. 

Dumbledore slipped the Put-Outer back inside his cloak and set off down the street towards number four, where he sat down on the wall next to the cat. He didn't look at it, but after a moment he spoke to it. 'Fancy seeing you here, Professor McGonagall.'

He turned to smile at the tabby, but it had gone. Instead, he was smiling at a rather severe-looking women who was wearing square glasses exactly the shape of the markings the cat had around its eyes. 

'That's our Minnie alright!' Sirius joked, smiling at the teacher.

She too, was wearing a cloak, an emerald one. Her black hair was drawn into a tight bun. She looked distinctly ruffled. 

'How did you know it was me?' she asked.

'My dear Professor, I've never seen a cat sit so stiffly.'

'You'd be stiff if you'd been sitting on a brick wall all day'  said Professor McGonagall.

'All day? When you could have been celebrating? I must have passes a dozen feasts and parties on the way here.'

Professor McGonagall sniffed angrily. 'Oh yes, everyone's celebrating, all right,' she said impatiently. 'You'd think they'd be a bit more careful, but no- even the Muggles have noticed something's going on/ It was on their news.' She jerked her head back at the Dursleys' dark living-room window. 'I heard it. Flocks of owls... shooting stars.. Well, they're not completely stupid. They were bound to notice something. Shooting stars down in Kent- I bet that was Dedalus Diggle. He never had much sense.'

Everyone in the room recognised the name. Diggle was a Hufflepuff a few years above them, and they all happened to agree with McGonagall on her evaluation of him.

'You can't blame them,' said Dumbledore gently. 'We've had precious little to celebrate for eleven years'.

'I know that,' said Professor McGonagall irritably. 'But that's no reason to lose our heads. People are being downright careless, out on the streets in broad daylight, not even dressed in Muggle clothes, swapping rumours.'

Everyone's head poked up at this.

She threw a sharp, sideways glance at Dumbledore here, as though hoping he was going to tell her something, but he didn't so she went on: 'A fine thing it would be if, on the very day You-Know-Who seems to have disappeared at last, the Muggles found out about us all. I suppose he really has gone, Dumbledore?'

'It certainly seems so,'

Everyone gasped.

'But how!' Barty Jr asked.

said Dumbledore. 'We have much to be thankful for. Would you care for a sherbet lemon?'

Arthur wrote 'Sherbet Lemon' on his list.

'A what?'

'A sherbet lemon. They're a kind of Muggle sweet I'm rather fond of.'

Arthur crossed it off his list.

'No, thank you,' said Professor McGonagall coldly, as though she didn't think this was the moment for sherbet lemons. 'As I say. even if You-Know-Who has gone-'

'My dear Professor, surely a sensible person like yourself can call him by his name? All this "You-Know-Who" nonsense- for eleven years I have been trying to persuade people to call him by his proper name: Voldemort'

Everyone in the room let out an involuntary shudder, except Dumbledore.

Professor McGonagall flinched, but Dumbledore, who was unsticking two sherbet lemons, seemed not to notice. 'It all gets so confusing if we keep saying "You-Know-Who". I have never seen any reason to be frightened of saying Voldemort's name.'

Another shudder from everyone.

'I know you haven't,' said Professor McGonagall, sounding half-exasperated, half-admiring. 'But you're different. Everyone knows you're the only one You-Know- oh, all right, Voldemort- was frightened of.'

'You flatter me,' said Dumbledore calmly. 'Voldemort had powers I will never have.'

'Only because you're too- well- noble to use them.'

'It's lucky it's dark. I haven't blushed so much since Madam Pomfrey like my new earmuffs.'

Alice and Molly giggled to each other at that.

Professor McGonagall shot a sharp look at Dumbledore and said, 'The owls are nothing to the rumours that are flying around. You know what everyone's saying? About why he's disappeared? About what finally stopped him?'

'Are we finding out now?' Remus asks.

'Yes, Mr Lupin.' Everyone was now sat up, attention fully on the story, the suspense in the air thick as they awaited to hear what had happened.

It seemed that Professor McGonagall had reached the point she was most anxious to discuss, the real reason she had been waiting on a cold hard wall all day, for neither as a cat nor as a woman had she fixed Dumbledore with such a piercing stare as she did now. It was plain that whatever 'everyone' was saying, she was not going to believe it until Dumbledore told her it was true. Dumbledore, however, was choosing another sherbet lemon and did not answer. 

'What they're saying,' she pressed on. 'is that last night Voldemort turned up in Godric's Hollow. He went to find the Potters.

Everyone turned and looked at Gwen and James, whose faces had turned pale.

'I think I know what's to come next, James,' Gwen says softly, tears filling her blue eyes.

James clearly knew what she meant, and grabbed her hand tightly. 'Don't say that.'

The rumour is that Gwendolyn and James Potter are- are- that they're- dead.'

A gasp erupted from the room.

'Knew it,' Gwendolyn said quietly, tears now spilling from her eyes.

'We die?' James asks, voice croaky, as he starts to softly cry too.

'I'm afraid so,' Dumbledore says solemnly. 

Arabella lets out a small sob, followed by Kimberly, Molly and Alice doing the same. The others just started at the pair in shock, tears in some of their eyes. Sirius mouth gapes open, silent tears streaming from his face. 

'We'll give you all a few minutes to get used to that,' McGonagall says softly, feeling hot tears pricking her own eyeballs.

A few minutes pass, and a still sniffling Gwendolyn and James say that they are ready to continue. 

Dumbledore bowed his head. Professor McGonagall gasped. 'Gwen and James... I can't believe it... oh, Albus...'

'Aww, Minnie you care!' James says, giving her a water smile.

'I have a question,' Molly says. 'What happens to Chloe and Harry?'

'Yeah, the book is about them, so they haven't died,' Kimberly says. 'So were they not in the house at the time or something?'

'That part is coming up now.' Dumbledore announces.

Dumbledore reached out and patted her on the shoulder. 'I know... I know...' he said heavily.

Professor McGonagall's voice trembled as she went on. 'That's not all. They're saying he tried to kill the Potter's twins, Chloe and Harry. But he couldn't kill those little children.

'WHAT!' The room broke out into.

'Prongs, your children are the reason why he's gone!' Remus said, putting the pieces together.

'Really?' James says, as he and Gwendolyn look to Dumbledore for some kind of explanation. 

'Mr Lupin was correct, your children did stop Voldemort.'

'But how?' Bellatrix spoke up, looking completely dumbfounded. 'You're telling me that he killed all those people and was as powerful as he was, but couldn't kill two kids?'

'That is correct, Miss Black, but the rest of the explanation, I'm afraid, you'll have to wait to find out what happened.'

'Are we ready to continue?' McGonagall cuts in.

With everyone nodding in agreement Dumbledore continues. 

No one knows why or how, but they're saying that when he couldn't kill Chloe and Harry Potter, Voldemort's power somehow broke- and that's why he's gone.'

'James, you have some powerful offspring, mate!' Amos announces, everyone nodding in agreement.

Dumbledore nodded glumly. 

'It's- it's true?' faltered Professor McGonagall. 'After all he's done... all the people he's killed.. he could kill two little children? It's just astounding... of all the things to stop him... but how in the name of heaven did Chloe and Harry survive?'

'We can only guess,' said Dumbledore. 'We may never know.'

Professor McGonagall pulled out a lace handkerchief and dabbed her eyes beneath her spectacles. Dumbledore gave a great sniff as he took a golden watch from his pocket and examined it. It was a very odd watch. It had twelve hands but no numbers; instead, little planets were moving around the edge. It must have made sense to Dumbledore, though, because he put it back in his pocket and said 'Hagrid's late.

'Hagrid's in this story?' Gwendolyn asked happily. Hagrid had just become the Groundkeeper for Hogwarts very recently, and Gwendolyn found him very lovely and kind.

'Great, just what this story needs,' Lucius remarks to Narcissa and Bellatrix. 'That big oaf.'

I suppose it was he who told you I'd be here, by the way?'

'Yes,' said Professor McGonagall. 'And I don't suppose you're going to tell me why you're here, of all places?'

'I've come to bring Chloe and Harry to their aunt and uncle.

'YOU'RE WHAT!' James and Gwendolyn shouted. 

'Why would you do that!' James asked, looking at Dumbledore as is he'd gone mad.

'My sister hates me, and you want to give her my children?' Gwendolyn asks, anger rising in her voice. 'She's going to treat them terribly!'

'How come either me, Kimberly, Remus, Sirius or even Peter don't get them?' Arabella asks.

'It's a long story that is explained later, but you need to know it was for the best,' Dumbledore replied.

'I don't believe you!' Gwendolyn says.

Before starting an argument, Dumbledore just keeps on reading.

They're the only family they've got left now.'

'You don't mean- you can't mean the people who live here?' cried Professor McGonagall, jumping to her feet and pointing at number four. 'Dumbledore- you can't.

'See, McGonagall agrees it's a bad idea!' James says. 

'Unfortunately, Mr Potter, it had to be done.' Dumbledore said calmly. 

You couldn't find two people who are less like us. And they've got this son- I saw him kicking his mother all the way up the street. screaming for sweets. Chloe and Harry Potter come and live here!'

'It's the best place for them,' said Dumbledore firmly. 'His aunt and uncle will be able to explain everything to him when he's older

'But they won't!' Gwendolyn exclaims angrily. ''My sister hated me being a witch, she won't tell my children that they're the same!'

I've written them a letter.'

'A letter?' repeated Professor McGonagall faintly, sitting back down against the wall. 'Really, Dumbledore, you think you can explain this in a letter? These people will never understand him! They'll both be famous- a legend- I wouldn't be surprised if today was known as Potter Twins Day in future- there will be books written about Chloe and Harry- every child in our world will know his name!'

'I bet Potter's having a right ego boost at the minute,' grovelled Severus.

'Exactly,' said Dumbledore, looking very seriously over the top of his half-moon glasses. 'It would be enough to turn any boy's head. Famous before either of them can walk or talk! Famous for something they both won't even remember! Can't you see how much better off he'll be, growing up away from all that until he's ready to take it?'

'There's a difference between growing up away from it and being placed in an abusive home!' Gwendolyn says. 

Professor McGonagall opened her mouth, changed her mind, swallowed and then said, 'Yes- yes, you're right, of course. But how are the children getting here, Dumbledore?' She eyed his cloak suddenly as though she thought he might be hiding the twins underneath it.

'Hagrid's bringing them both.'

'You think it wise- wise- to trust Hagrid with something as important as this?'

'I would trust Hagrid with my life,' said Dumbledore.

'I wouldn't trust that big oaf with anything,' Lucius remarks.

'I'm not saying that his heart isn't in the right place,' said Professor McGonagall grudgingly. 'but you can't pretend he's not careless. He does tend to- what was that?'

A low rumbling sound had broken the silence around them. It grew steadily louder as they looked up and down the street for some sign of a headlight; it swelled to a roar as they both looked up at the sky- and a huge motorbike fell out of the air and landed on the road in front of them. 

If the motorbike was huge, it was nothing to the man sitting astride it. He was almost twice as tall as a normal man and at least five times as wide.

'That's Hagrid, for sure!' Kimberly said.

He looked simply too big to be allowed, and so wild- long tangles of bushy black hair and beard hid most of his face, he had hands the size of dustbin lids and his feet in their leather boots were like baby dolphins. In his vast, muscular arms, he was holding two bundles of blankets.

'It's the twins!' Molly exclaimed to Gwendolyn.

'Hagrid,' said Dumbledore, sounding relieved. 'At last. And where did you get that motorbike?'

'Borrowed it, Professor Dumbledore, sir,' said the giant, climbing carefully off the motorbike as he spoke. 'Young Sirius Black lent it me.

'I have a motorbike!' Sirius exclaimed, an excited look on his face. 'That's so cool!'

I've got them both, sir.'

'No problems, were there?'

'No sir= house was almost destroyed but I got them both out alright before the Muggles started swarmin' around. They both fell asleep as we was flyin' over Bristol.'

Dumbledore and Professor McGonagall bent forward over the two bundles of blankets. Inside each, just visible, was a baby, one girl and one boy, fast asleep. The girl's hair was barely visible in the dark light as it was so light, and the boy's was the exact opposite, jet black.

'Aww you had a mini you and a mini James, Gwen!' Alice said, cooing slightly. 

'I bet they're proper cute, our kids,' James said, smiling down at Gwendolyn who just blushed in response. 

Under the tufts of platinum blonde and jet-black hair over their forehead they could see identical curiously shaped cuts, like bolts of lightning. 

'Is that where-?' whispered Professor McGonagall.

'Yes,' said Dumbledore. 'They'll have those scars for ever.'

'Even if I could, I wouldn't. Scars can come in useful. I have one myself above my left knee which is a perfect map of the London Underground. 

'Really?' Gwendolyn asked, amusement written over her face at the idea. Dumbledore nodded. 

'Can we see?' Andromeda asks.

'Maybe another time.'

Well- give him here, Hagrid- we'd better get this over with.'

Dumbledore took Chloe and Harry in his arms and turned towards the Dursley's house.

'Could I- could I say goodbye to them, sir?' asked Hagrid. He bent his great, shaggy head over Harry first and gave him what must have been a very scratchy, whiskery kiss, then doing the exact same to Chloe. Then, suddenly, Hagrid let out a howl like a wounded dog.

'Shhh!' hissed Professor McGonagall. 'You'll wake the Muggles!'

'I mean I doubt it,' Arabella says. 'especially if the motorbike didn't in the first place.'

'S-s-sorry,' sobbed Hagrid, taking out a large spotted handkerchief and burying his face in it. 'But I c-c-can't stand it- Gwen and James dead- an' poor little Chloe and poor little Harry off ter live with Muggles-'

'Yes, yes, it's all very sad, but get a grip on yourself, Hagrid, or we'll be found,' Professor McGonagall whispered, patting Hagrid gingerly on the arm as Dumbledore stepped over the low garden wall and walked to the front door. He laid Chloe and Harry gently on the doorstep

'WHAT!' James and Gwendolyn erupted again, turning to Dumbledore angrily.

'You're leaving them on the doorstep?' Kimberly asked him, looking both parts angry and confused.

'What if there was foxes or something?' James asks. 

'Yeah, and the weatherman said earlier that it was going to rain!' Remus added. 'You're leaving them in the cold and the wet?'

,took two letters out of his cloak, tucked them inside either Chloe's or Harry's blankets and then came back to the other two. For a full minute, the three of them stood and looked at the two little bundles; Hagrid's shoulders shook, Professor McGonagall blinked furiously and the twinkling light that usually shone from Dumbledore's eyes seemed to have gone out.

'Well,' said Dumbledore finally, 'that's that. We've no business staying here. We may as well go and join the celebrations.'

'What you should be doing instead,' says Gwendolyn, angrily, 'is thinking about the fact that you left two BABIES on a doorstep!'

'Yeah,' said Hagrid in a very muffled voice. 'I'd best get this bike away. G'night, Professor McGonagall- Professor Dumbledore, sir.' Wiping his streaming eyes on his jacket sleeve, Hagrid swung himself on to the motorbike and kicked the engine into life; with a roar it rose into the air and off into the night. 

'I shall see you soon, I expect, Professor McGonagall,' said Dumbledore, nodding to her. Professor McGonagall blew her nose in reply. 

Dumbledore turned and walked back down the street. On the corner he stopped and took out the silver Put-Outer. He clicked it once and twelve balls of light sped back to their street lamps so that Privet Drive glowed suddenly orange and he could make out a tabby cat slinking around the corner at the other end of the street. He could just see the two bundles of blankets on the step of number four. 

'Good luck, Chloe and Harry,' he murmured. He turned on his heel and with a swish of his cloak he was gone.

'And leaving the two babies on the step,' Arabella said, rolling her eyes at the idea.

A breeze ruffled the neat hedges of Privet Drive, which lay silent and tidy under the inky sky, the very last place you would expect astonishing things to happen. Chloe and Harry Potter rolled over inside of their blankets without either of them waking up. Each baby had one small hand closed on the letters beside them and they both slept on, not knowing they were special, not knowing they were famous, not knowing that they would both be woken in a few hours' time by Mrs Dursley's scream as she opened the front door to put out the milk bottles, not that they would both spend the next few weeks being prodded and pinched by their cousin Dudley...

'He better not do anything to either of them!' James muttered.

...They couldn't know that at this very moment, people meeting in secret all over the country were holding up their glasses and saying in hushed voices: 'To Chloe and Harry Potter- the twins who lived!'

[midnight-and-his-melodiverse]

Interstellar Mythos

Story Script

INT. BRIEFING ROOM – NIGHT

In a small dimly lit briefing room, there sits around five to ten newly-graduated soldiers and pilots in a seating pattern that gradually curves inward toward the back of the room.

They’re facing a blonde haired girl with a red and silver uniform, which has the symbols of the Earth and Sun emblazoned on it. This girl, known as COMMANDER AITERA, is leafing through her findings as the ambient noise of chatter fills the small room.

She calls the group to attention, and they immediately follow through.

COMMANDER AITERA

Alright, settle down. So, I’m not sure how to put this mildly, but there have been sightings reported by our fellow soldiers and pilots at a neighboring Terra Protection Coalition base. Specifically, I’m getting readings from Base Mars that there are a lot of mythical creatures that have made their way into orbit.

A pilot from the back, wearing a blue uniform with that same array of symbols, KAYLIN, pipes up.

KAYLIN (excited and giddy)

Oh? Does this mean that there are DRAGONS IN SPACE–

He’s swiftly cut off, by a motion of AITERA’s hand. COMMANDER AITERA

Now, don’t kid yourself, Kaylin. This can only mean bad, bad news for the citizens of Terra. So if all these creatures of myth, and yes, dragons, have fled their solitude island habitat far away from human contact, and they’re now in orbit, then something or someone musta tampered with ‘im. Which means that--

AITERA’s projector screen suddenly lights up. ???

EMERGENCY TRANSMISSION FROM BASE MERCURY.           EMERGENCY TRANSMISSION FROM BASE MERCURY.

AITERA clicks to answer it. ???

Base Mercury to Base Terra, do you read us? COMMANDER AITERA

Loud n’ clear, Base Mercury captain Rylen.

CAPTAIN RYLEN

...Let’s hope our connection doesn’t give out on us, but as we speak, a group of Star Dragons, specifically of the Andromeda variant, have begun ravaging our outpost and we would really appreciate the help! Communicate with the rest of our neighboring bases and round up some of their top pilots, stat! Time is precious in these sorts of situations. Over and ou-- The transmission abruptly halts.

COMMANDER AITERA

Y’hear that, Base Terra team? We’ve got a great big mission on our hands and a base that’s counting on our assistance. Let’s not let ‘im down and round up the rest of the pilots! A chorus of “Ma'am, yes, ma'am!” rings throughout the room. (perhaps a sneak peek into a story for 2024??)

[regulusx]

         with a sigh regulus resigned himself to make the most out of his mandatory attendance to the fair, 'it will be good for the department if we are seen at the event' his boss had said, regulus was just relieved he had not been ordered to volunteer at one of the booths too. this he could manage, a fake smile since he had done since childhood, and pretended interest, he had literally being trained for it.

         had he not been so lost in his thoughts he would've seen the approaching incident, granted, andromeda had barely bumped into him, but now he was left with no idea of how to react.

         ❝it's alright, no harm done❞ regulus tried to sound nonchalant, he could not exactly use the same grateful and delighted tone as he did in his secret visits to his cousin, ❝everything okay?❞

Andromeda found that the events that the Ministry promoted were not exactly 100% reliable, there was a certain sense of distraction, pan et circus, if you will, and that left a sour taste in her mouth.

That being said, once Dora found out about the fair there was no way of not attending.

Dora was next to her mother, a treat in her hand, before some booth got her attention, and the child was running to it, Andromeda not far behind, "Dora, wait a minute!" she tried to get her daughter's attention and soon she was bumping to someone accidentally. "So sorry, my daughter..." she pointed and then turned back to try and catch Dora.

[millerbrick]

@andromedakessel​

​The envelope that the crows dropped was completely disregarded. He was not here to play silly games anymore, and he certainly no longer cared to humour the gamemakers. Let the other tributes appease the audience, for once. While they were distracted trying to solve another mystery or whatever bullshit it was that had been thrown at them, maybe he would be able to kill them all.

For now, though, he had to focus. One by one. Starting with his supposed allies, who had the most to pay. He would be their reckoning.

His legs did not rest once, stalking through different rooms and hallways. Regrettably, obnoxiously, he did not encounter anyone for so long. That was until he finally made his way out of the house and to the courtyard.

“How’s that wrist?” Miller called out to Andromeda Kessel, completely unbothered. “Tell you what, I’ll let you make the first move this time. Just to keep it fair.” Not that it would make any difference. She would die today.

[tdtnks]

date: january 30th, 1983 location: the tonks home @andyinthestars​

“When’s mum going to get home?” Dora whinged, looking up at him with big, brown eyes. Today her hair was short, curly, and a bright blue. Ted’s lips twitched with amusement. It wasn’t the first time she’d asked that in the past hour – nor the second, the third, or the fourth. “What time does mum usually get home?” he asked, quickly receiving his child’s answer. “And what time does the clock say it is?” Dora squinted at the analog clock on the wall, carefully reading at the answer and looking to him for confirmation. This time, he smiled. “Right. So, she should be home any minute now.” Hopefully. Andromeda’s work could be demanding. After all, that’s how she’d ended up called in on a Sunday that was her birthday. But Ted knew she wouldn’t let the Ministry keep her late just because it demanded it. He was betting on him being home by dinner.

Dora asked if she wait by the door to greet her mother, so he sent her on her way with a pat on the head. A quiet sight slipped past his lips. It was tired more than anything else. He loved his child more than the world and he’d never change a thing about her, but her energy and excitement were inexplicable. She definitely hadn’t gotten them from him. Unlike older brothers, who delighted in using spare moments to muck around in the yard or set up pranks throughout the house, Ted had spent his glued to his piano. Maybe it came from Andy though. Maybe that’s what Andy would’ve been like had she not grown up in the family she did. When her eyes twinkled with mischief, it was exactly like looking into Dora’s, and he knew when he showed her the cake Dora picked out today, she’d have a similar reaction to her child’s.

Speaking of… The clicks of the locks and Dora’s excited shout snapped him from his thoughts. Andromeda was home. Stepping away from the counter, Ted walked past decorations Dora had insisted on putting up earlier that day. He’d used the unfortunate opportunity of her extra shift to prepare, taking Dora out to buy supplies for dinner, a cake, and decorations. They’d even gotten her an extra present, something Dora saw in a shop window as they were strolling down Diagon Alley.

“Hi, honey,” he said, coming to a stop a few paces from them. Dora had her arms thrown around her mother’s neck in a tight hug. “Happy birthday.”

[rodolphos]

private starter for @andyinthestars​

It was unsurprising that an ancient book on death magic was not an easy text to come by. Despite having put in a request with Borgin & Burke’s to keep an eye out for it, along with a few others antique dealers he know of, the days ticked by without a sign that the book he was looking for would ever become available for purchase. Fortunately or unfortunately – your pick – the exact text he was looking for was available for viewing by appointment at the Oxford Magic Library. A few sweet words and a few sweeter galleons got him an appointment without question as to his intentions.

The Oxford library was not a place he regularly frequented. Usually, any texts he wanted, he could get his hands on for perusal in his private study. Since it was not the case this time, Rodolphus chose to show up early. A floo was connected directly to the library, meaning he didn’t have to see any muggles let alone talk to them. A relief. He arrived early and a witch at the front desk informed him that the director would come to get him when it was time; in the meanwhile, he was welcome to examine the rest of their public collection.

It was unclear even to himself if he was examining the collection or looking for a quiet aisle. It was probably not the former, as magical dinner recipes held about as much interest to him as the latest Celestina Warbeck album. If it was the latter, than he was out of luck. His eyes were narrowed at the spine of a book entitled How to Prepare and Cook a Dragon’s Flesh when he heard footsteps come to a stop near him. Blue eyes darted to the witch, an immediate but unnamed familiarity dawning on him.

“Have we met before?” he asked. Quiet, to respect the atmosphere of the library.