#king!sirius black

[gardenoflupins]

AU where Sirius is a king and Remus is brought in as a prisoner

TW: violence, slightly toxic characters

Remus swallowed down vomit as he moved jerkily with each press of the silver spears against his back. The king’s men didn’t even have to physically touch him to hurt him. They could burn him just by placing their spears close enough to his body.

His wrists were shackled with silver in front of him. Each time his wrists moved, it sent waves of fiery anguish through him. The only reason he stayed upright was to avoid a spear in his back.

People nearby gasped and moved backwards when they saw him. Remus isn’t sure if they’ve put it together that he is a werewolf or if they think he is some dangerous criminal being guided by soldiers. Most people knew nothing about werewolves, just that they were lethal murderers.

Remus had never murdered anyone.

He’d never even hurt anyone. He made sure he couldn’t.

But the king’s soldiers were always on the hunt for dark creatures and they had located him through his howls of pain. The men sighted him just as he was turning back into his human self. They almost made Remus walk naked until he heard them say that they didn’t want to disturb the general public. After weakening him with silver they decided to bring him directly to the King. Remus doesn’t know if it’s for imprisonment, execution, study or torture.

When they reached the gates, the guards stationed there gave them all doubtful looks but let them through.

“We’ll keep it in the prisons under the castle until King Sirius is made aware of this discovery,” one of the men said in a gruff voice.

Belatedly, Remus realised they were talking about him.

“It will be well contained,” another added.

Remus discreetly eyes his surroundings. The halls were littered with large works of art and the chandeliers made his eyes go wide at the beautiful complexity.

They are intercepted a few minutes later. A young, lean man with curly dark hair strided towards them and frowned through his glasses. Remus knew immediately by his neat and regal attire that he was someone important. Was this the King?

“Explain what I’m looking at,” he demanded with clear disapproval. Remus’s eyes flickered restlessly towards him.

The guard made a respectable gesture before signalling to Remus. “This one is off to the prisons until the King gives orders on what to do with it.”

The wealthy man furrows his brows, looking directly at Remus. Remus looks at his feet because he was not used to people staring at him without recoiling away. Remembering himself, he looked into the other’s eyes.

“Does the King know of this?”

“Not yet.”

Agitation passed the man's face and he began walking away, urgency in his steps. “You will follow me.”

“My lord—“ the guard began but thought better of it. They poked Remus with the spears, making him hiss out in pain and stumble in the Lord's direction.

Two people opened double sided doors for the unnamed Lord and the rest of them. Remus felt the guards around him hesitate but they didn’t dare question the Lord with glasses.

“Sirius,” the Lord snapped and Remus flinched at his tone.

Remus quickly understood the hesitancy around him when he walked into what appeared to be the throne room. There sat a man with long jet black hair. Stomach giving out on him, he realised the ornament on his head labelled him as a King.

King Sirius.

Fuck.

Reflexively, he tried to pull back and this time somebody really did stab his spine. He muffled a moan and stumbled forward on uneven footing.

“Here is yet another one,” the Lord spoke without waiting for acknowledgement. “Starving probably. Is it really fair to throw a young man like this into the prisons? He is hurt, Sirius.”

Given the informal use of the King’s name, the Lord must be very close to him. Unless he was stupid.

The King didn’t bother to look at anyone but the Lord who spoke.

“Another complaint?” the King asked warily, a half smile playing on his lips.

His companion huffed and gestured aggressively to Remus. Remus shrunk back. He was pinned down by grey eyes and Remus knew from his eyes alone that the King was someone resilient, fierce, and merciless.

“My King, this is not another thief situation,” the guard behind Remus argued.

Remus braced himself for the reveal.

“It’s a werewolf. We were taking it down to be restrained but Lord James insisted we come here.”

King Sirius and Lord James stared at Remus sharply. Remus is sure he looked a mess with his hunched shoulders and defensive body language. Even with the declaration, their faces were almost impassive.

The King leaned back on his throne in a casual and aloof manner. “That’s no werewolf. It’s merely a man.” He gives them all loathsome looks. “Have you come to waste my time? Are my men truly so dim they cannot recognise a bloodthirsty wolf from a man?”

For a moment, the King is met with shocked silence.

“My King,” a different guard starts uncertainly, “rest assured this is a werewolf. We found him in his cursed form and waited to bring him like this.”

Lord James visually tensed at that, eyes scanning Remus up and down. The King appeared to be doing the same.

“You’re certain?” King Sirius asked. Remus’s wide eyes drew to him solely and they held eye contact. Remus wondered what the King saw when he looked at Remus who was wearing the King’s official colours because the guards didn't want to bring him in bare.

“Most certainly,” came the reply, sounding calmer. “We’ve weakened it with silver so you needn’t be afraid of harm. We will take our leave while you decide what to do with it.”

Remus didn’t ignore the way they only referred to him as an it.

King Sirius held up a hand to stop them just as Lord James opened his mouth angrily. “This is a boy. How is he a boy?” the King asked.

The question confused Remus. When the others don’t reply, he addresses Remus specifically. “You. Explain it to me.”

Remus startled. Had the King really addressed him?

“I would not waste my breath,” the same guard said. “It cannot speak English.”

The King looked disappointed. Seeing his window closing, Remus rushed to say something.

“Untrue, I can speak English.” His voice was hoarse from the previous night of screaming.

The knights around him stiffened and the air became cold and unwelcome. At all the hard stares, Remus worsened it by speaking because he never worked well under pressure. “I can read and write too.”

His body hit the marble floor roughly when somebody from behind kicked him down. The shackles on his wrist moved terribly with the movement, causing him to wheeze out in pain.

“Do not lie to the King,” the guard snapped and held Remus’s head down with his boot.

Remus groaned, regretting everything. He should have let them continue thinking he was a daft, witless creature. They never once asked him to speak when they found him and Remus was too scared to talk to them. He knew they looked down on the poor and the cursed.

“Is that necessary?” came Lord James’s voice, tinged with alarm. Remus heard footsteps approaching.

“Its looks are deceiving. It looks like a man but is not one. Don’t waste your concern on it.”

Remus didn’t move an inch. He was not going to do anything that would endanger him quicker.

“Remove your foot off him.”

Remus swallowed thickly at the sound of King Sirius’s voice. Still unreadable in his emotions.

“Sire—“

“Do not make me repeat myself. I am agitated as it is.”

The foot leaves his head but still Remus does not move. He hears more footfalls and prays the King isn’t coming his way to behead him. He catches sight of his shoes near his face.

“Rise.”

Remus hesitates and after a moment of contemplation he hesitates again. Very slowly, he raises his head a fraction, afraid he is going to kick Remus’s teeth in.

The King only looks at him with something resembling curiosity. He is at least pleased that Remus stays close to the ground in a non threatening manner. It does nothing to ease the others.

“As I asked before, how are you a man?”

Remus does not reply. Instead he watches the King, eyes glued on his face for signs of incoming violence.

“Do you have a name?”

No response.

“Can you only speak a bit of English?”

Remus’s eyes flicker behind him at the guards.

“Ah,” the King says with realisation. “They are not allowed to stop you from conversing with me. Speak.”

He continues to say nothing.

He almost wasn’t surprised when a knight stomps on his spine. Remus cries out as his burns rub against his shirt and the offending boot. A sob leaves his mouth and he fails to hold in a whimper. He lets his head stay on the ground. If they were going to kill him, let them. He was too tired to be tortured.

“How dare you,” Lord James bristles, facing his fears and walking closer to Remus. “Get back,” he snaps when they try to shield him from Remus.

“You hurt him for speaking and then hurt him for not speaking,” comes the King’s cold reply. “Do not interfere again or I will spike your skulls on the gates.”

The ice in his voice makes Remus shiver.

“Stand, Lycanthrope.”

Unsteadily, Remus does as he says. When he is on his feet, his upper body is hunched again from the burning sensation. The King’s eyes fall to his burnt and shackled wrists but says nothing.

For awhile, all three of them stare at each other. At first, Remus is met with detached looks from both the royal men. Then, they regard him with a look almost akin to pity.

Lord James side eyes King Sirius.

Remus’s head drops. He knows they are not impressed with what they see. The loathed lycanthrope. A scrawny young man. The horrors.

Another tense silence passes before Lord James can’t hold himself. “Surely you can’t kill him. Look at him. He’s….”

The King sighs. “He’s a danger, James.”

Remus already had no hope of surviving this, but this killed him further.

King Sirius takes a step closer to Remus and everyone, including Remus, freezes. This time, nobody tries to second guess the King. He takes another and another step until he is right up against Remus.

Remus looks anywhere but at him, feeling caged and very small in his commanding presence.

“This thing…” he begins, “like a puppy. Mutt. This is a werewolf?”

Remus’s stomach churns with anxiety. What would he do to him?

“My King,” a guard warns in a strained tone.

“You’ve frightened it,” is all King Sirius says.

Taking a risk Remus finds stupid, he tilts Remus’s head up with a strong hand. Remus’s eyes widen and his body aches from how still he tries to hold himself without shaking. Touching a werewolf was inexplicable. Nobody would go anywhere near a werewolf, let alone talk to or lay a hand on one without the intention to kill.

His brows raise at Remus, studying him. “Submissive.”

Remus is shocked at the word that leaves the King's mouth but knows it’s because he is viewed as nothing more than a wild dog. A skinny and petrified one at that.

Lord James moves slowly to stand next to the king, a frown upon his face again. “Sirius,” he begins, “this is unsafe.”

The King doesn’t remove his eyes from Remus, insisting on trapping him in his gaze. “You wanted me to show mercy,” he states.

“That was before—“ Lord James huffs, running a hand through his hair. “You’re too close. He may bite.”

Horrifyingly, this makes the King tilt his head with curiosity. “Is it true that you can only spread your curse on the full moon?”

When nobody answers, Remus gives a small nod of his head.

“You can turn into a man?”

Remus bites off his angry words. King Sirius’s eyes gleam. “Go on, permission to bite— verbally, that is.”

Remus doesn’t go for the bait. His shoulders fall a bit and the other clicks their tongue. He had no reason to be displeased by Remus’s lack of anger.

“Refusing to answer will get anybody in trouble, regardless of who they are. Can you turn into a man?” he asks again.

“I am a man,” Remus whispers.

He hears no reply.

King Sirius is amused, curious, and disbelieving all at once. He grabs Remus’s chin to tilt his face left and right, looking for signs of animalistic features. His gaze snags on a few wounds Remus knows are there and Remus swallows thickly. Nervousness thrums through his system, making his heart race. The King’s gaze falls to his wrists again but doesn’t make the command to release him.

“I think you will teach me a lot of things, Lycanthrope,” he says softly.

Dread pools in Remus’s gut.

He’d be kept for study then. There was no gaurantee that torture would not be involved, especially because the King would not be prepared for how stubborn and unwilling Remus was going to be.

[simp2537]

King!Sirius who had many concubines but fell completely in love with his childhood best friend (a female bestfriend). They met again after 10 years of separation, and Sirius' best friend became Sirius' main lady-in-waiting because of the orders of her father who was the prime minister🌝🌝🌝

Reunion

a/n: So I started this then all the progress got deleted 🥲. I changed it from prime minister to advisor cause I don’t know enough about a prime minister. But here it is, hope you enjoy.

Warnings: period misogyny, sexual thoughts, nsfw thought (not to long) pregnancy and childbirth mentioned, use of the word cunt once, jealousy, Sirius being lovesick for reader

Royal Au

Sirius Black x Fem! Reader

The chamber was filled with blaring music as the nobles and others who live at court danced. Sirius watched with a bored look as he brought his gaze to Mary. One of his many concubines, she danced with an erotic sway to her hips as she stared at him.

Sirius leaned back, the crown resting on his head growing heavy. Months of being king and the weight of the thing was already overwhelming. One of his advisors walked to him, bowing deeply.

“My king, allow me to introduce my daughter, Lady Y/n of the Riverlands.”

The crowds parted as she approached and bowed. Her dress was a rich red with golden embroidery. Her shining h/c held a circlet… wait he knew that circlet. As her bright and shimmering e/c irises met his chocolate one he gasped softly.

His little love was back.

Year ago during his childhood when escaping from tutors he’d run into a small girl. She brought him to a lake and every day after that she taught him to swim. They grew together, sharing secrets, sharing snacks, sharing… love.

That pretty girl he once knew no longer stood in front of him, a beautiful nymph had blossomed from his little love. She stared at him for a moment as a rose blush dusted over her cheeks.

“My king, it is an honor to meet you.” He voice was that if the sweetest honey, and addictive nectar like Sirius had never experienced. They stared at each other for so long, her father began to speak.

“Would you like to dance my lady?”

Sirius cut off a discussion her father was having with him a stood from his throne swiftly. He took Y/n’s soft hand into his with a smile. He brought it to his lips placing a gently kiss on her bare skin. Gods how he missed her.

“I would be delighted to, my king.” Sirius whisked Y/n to the dance floor. His arm went around her waist and a new chorus began to start. The pair danced in sync for a while, basking in the other presents.

“It’s been a long time, little love.” Y/n giggled softly, the souls of bells entering Sirius’s ears. How he missed her, her smile, her laugh, her words, her touch, her skin… her lips.

“That is has been, my puppy.”

“Where did you go?” Y/n flattered as Sirius spun her away. She caught Mary’s eyes full of envy. Y/n was glad when she was brought back into the safety of Sirius’s warm arms.

“Mother called done back to study and become a proper lady… I didn’t want to leave.” Y/n uttered softly. Sirius hummed softly as he lifted her in the air with a spin. As he brought her back down to the ground he brought his mouth to her ear. His voice a hushed whisper.

“How long will you be staying?”

“I am to be your lady in waiting if what my father says is correct.”

“It is now.”

………………

Sirius crept through the hidden hallways of his youth. Passages him and Y/n would use when playing. They lead straight into her new chambers. For the last few weeks Y/n had been attending him. Weeks of bliss, hidden touches, and stolen glances.

As Sirius slowly entered Y/n’a room his eyes were burning with unreleased tears. The weight of the crown was too much for him. As he walked over to her bed he peered over her sleeping frame. The soft rise and fall of her chest. Her breast pecked out slightly against the simple white nightgown she slept in.

Sirius wondered what it would be like to throw off those covers and ravish her. To feast on her cunt and lap at her juices. Sirius wondered what it would be like to marry Y/n. To see her in a crow in the throne next to him. To see her swell with their child. Sirius would be expected to want a boy but a girl wouldn’t be so bad one that looked like her mother.

Sirius slowly ducked under the covers and crawled up her body resting in her chest. He nuzzled into her warmth wrapping himself so tightly around her. Her soft moan of confusion as she began to wake was like a melody to Sirius’s ears.

“Puppy? What are you-?”

“I need to see you, hold you.” Sirius stared firmly. Y/n brought a lazy hand to his dark curls and raked her hand through the strands.

“What will people say if they find out you were in the bed of your lady in waiting?” Sirius hunted softly and hid his head in the crock of Y/n’s neck. He inhaled deeply, the scent of her rose and his net milk bath still lingering in her skin.

”Let us have this, please.” Sirius pleaded lifting his head up. He hover over her and he slowly brought his lips to hers. She brought her hand to his face, softly caressing his cheek.

A few moments of silence passed as Sirius nuzzled back into Y/n. Their body’s molded to each others.

“I hope we will always have this.” Y/n mumbled as she drifted back off to sleep. Siris laid away for a while longer, listening to Y/n’s heart beat as her own personal song.

“We will always have this, I’ll make sure.” Sirius muttered as he too drifted to sleep.

[propussyslayer]

sirius: so what do you do for a living

remus: i hunt and kill zombies

sirius: the fuck no you don't

remus: have you ever seen one?

sirius: no?

remus: then you are fucking welcome

[selmasdaydreams]

this is so regulus coded btw

[sparsilees]

Harry is a clever and competent wizard

A recurring theme in fandom I find endlessly tiresome and disappointing is the portrayal of Harry as an academically struggling student who’s lamentably hopeless at Potions and middling in all other subjects aside from DADA, and who, alongside Ron, is in constant need of Hermione’s guidance. It’s present almost everywhere. It’s reinvented canon. And it’s shoved down new readers and non-fans’ throats alike. Please, there’s an HP wiki available for your perusal. Don’t go about consulting popular fics and the Hermione-biased movie director’s visions to draw your ideas of Harry and Ron’s psyche!

It’s doubly aggravating when this depiction is used to highlight Hermione, Draco, or so-and-so classmate’s magical Einstein-levels of genius and reinforce the false narrative that Harry’s singular claim to brilliance lies in Quidditch, and that he’s got nothing more than fluff and snitches between his ears on top of being oblivious to the point of idiocy. That apart from excelling in Defence, he doesn’t have much upstairs... (And even then a minority of the fandom portray DADA as akin to gym class where it’s all honing muscles, muscle memory, and reflexes, with Harry framed as an archetypical gymbro on top being a himbo. What?!)

So we’re just going to overlook his devastatingly biting wit and clever asides? Or brush aside how he repeatedly demonstrates his ability to perform well under pressure? His keen intuition and how he carefully retains seemingly insignificant, misfit puzzle pieces until the eureka moment strikes and he seamlessly integrates them into the bigger picture?

Take these two examples from Philosopher’s Stone with an intrepid tiny Harry:

Harry was quite sure the unsettled feeling didn’t have anything to do with work, though. He watched an owl flutter toward the school across the bright blue sky, a note clamped in its mouth. Hagrid was the only one who ever sent him letters. Hagrid would never betray Dumbledore. Hagrid would never tell anyone how to get past Fluffy . . . never . . . but — Harry suddenly jumped to his feet. “Where’re you going?” said Ron sleepily. “I’ve just thought of something,” said Harry. He had turned white. “We’ve got to go and see Hagrid, now.” “Why?” panted Hermione, hurrying to keep up. “Don’t you think it’s a bit odd,” said Harry, scrambling up the grassy slope, “that what Hagrid wants more than anything else is a dragon, and a stranger turns up who just happens to have an egg in his pocket? How many people wander around with dragon eggs if it’s against wizard law? Lucky they found Hagrid, don’t you think? Why didn’t I see it before?”

Quirrell cursed under his breath. “I don’t understand . . . is the Stone inside the mirror? Should I break it?” Harry’s mind was racing. What I want more than anything else in the world at the moment, he thought, is to find the Stone before Quirrell does. So if I look in the mirror, I should see myself finding it — which means I’ll see where it’s hidden! But how can I look without Quirrell realizing what I’m up to? He tried to edge to the left, to get in front of the glass without Quirrell noticing, but the ropes around his ankles were too tight: he tripped and fell over. Quirrell ignored him. He was still talking to himself. “What does this mirror do? How does it work? Help me, Master!” And to Harry’s horror, a voice answered, and the voice seemed to come from Quirrell himself. “Use the boy . . . Use the boy . . .” Quirrell rounded on Harry. “Yes — Potter — come here.” He clapped his hands once, and the ropes binding Harry fell off. Harry got slowly to his feet. “Come here,” Quirrell repeated. “Look in the mirror and tell me what you see.” Harry walked toward him. I must lie, he thought desperately. I must look and lie about what I see, that’s all.

Bravery alone wasn’t enough to overcome his troubled upbringing with the Dursleys, or Quirrelmort, or Diary Tommy, or the final leg of the Horcrux hunt — it required a combination of mental agility, resourcefulness, and cunning to evaluate the situation, outsmart his opponents, and tip the odds in his favour. Harry needed to survive. To survive, he needed something other than mere guts. Harry’s ability to think on his feet and leverage his intelligence to gain the upper hand in challenging scenarios remains a testament to his brilliance and his remarkable presence of mind. He isn’t the foolhardy, impulsive Gryffindor who leaps into danger headlong without prior planning everytime.

(For that matter, Gryffindor are more than their “bravery” which has somehow been twisted into being synonymous with “reckless” — Sirius being a prime example of this, when in GOF he was urging Harry caution in their communications, despite the fandom conveniently only zeroing in on the depressed, cooped up version of him in OOTP, sigh. Bravery is fortitude, pluck, tenacity, strength of moral fibre, resilience, and heart as well.)

Some other less-mentioned examples of his quick mind: Harry wondering about Snape and Karkaroff being on a first-name basis; remembering Nicholas Flamel just from a long-ago glance, and again, Stan Shunpike despite their single encounter; Harry coaxing out Slughorn’s secret (no, it wasn’t all the Felix Felicis); Harry putting himself in Voldemort’s shoes, and Ron and Hermione deferring to his superior, albeit scary, knowledge; and Harry frightening Ollivander with his deductions about the wands. (It wasn’t solely Hermione’s brains that enabled their chances of survival in DH, let’s ditch that false narrative.)

The most laughably contrived bit in fanon is the unfounded notion that Hermione lets the boys cheat off her work to coast by in class. Fanon is wrong on both counts. Hermione would sooner report the boys for cheating than allow them to copy off her, and Harry isn’t anywhere close to scraping the bottom of the barrel in class, and neither is Ron. The handful of instances in canon where she looks over their assignments and helps correct mistakes isn’t cheating. Her input is akin to getting a second pair of eyes or a beta reader to ensure their work is up to snuff — heaven forbid a student help out a friend by suggesting some tips and tweaks. (Or attend tuition or retain a personal tutor or three.)

The ‘that’s why Harry isn’t a Ravenclaw’ jokes get pretty stale once you realise a large portion of the fandom genuinely think he isn’t a smart kid or has never read a book of his own volition/interest in his life. But Harry enjoyed reading his new books late into the night before starting Hogwarts (he found Hedwig’s name in A History of Magic, after all). Admittedly, studying is a feat in and of itself when you have zero access to books, but some cunning can turn around your luck!

Nevertheless, Sirius had been of some help to Harry, even if he couldn’t be with him. It was due to Sirius that Harry now had all his school things in his bedroom with him. The Dursleys had never allowed this before; their general wish of keeping Harry as miserable as possible, coupled with their fear of his powers, had led them to lock his school trunk in the cupboard under the stairs every summer prior to this. But their attitude had changed since they had found out that Harry had a dangerous murderer for a godfather — for Harry had conveniently forgotten to tell them that Sirius was innocent.

‘Oh, Potter can’t differentiate between a salamander and newt’s eyes.’

‘Asking him to skin shrivelfigs is a tall order since he can’t wield a dagger properly.’

‘He used shredded jobberknoll feathers when the recipe called for a fine powder. Poor Hermione will have to take over yet again to save his stupid arse.’

It’s these many variations and renditions of Harry’s alleged, often exaggerated, ineptitude in fandom content and making a monkey out of him, which I come across more often than not, that are an instant turn-off.

The widespread idea that Harry’s success in the subject can be attributed solely to the Prince’s book is misguided and further undermines his intelligence — and this jaundiced belief that’s crystallised itself as canon, of Harry and Ron putting on a double act as stupid slouches in class and therefore deserving of Snape’s derision and the Slytherin’s put-downs, is a far cry from the truth. Snape’s opinion of Harry’s intelligence or ability should be taken with a grain of salt, given that Harry has been described as a bright and talented child since his first year, by the Professors, Dumbledore, and the Sorting Hat. Even the resident megalomaniac described him as “not unintelligent”. You know what’s actually canon?

1) Snape’s biased approach towards Harry and Neville caused them to have an unwarranted fear of failure and reprimands. The Potions classroom was a hostile and unwelcoming learning environment for these two boys.

2) Harry is pretty confident when left to his own devices in class in OoTP before Snape flushed his effort down the gutter.

Exhibit 1:

Snape, meanwhile, seemed to have decided to act as though Harry were invisible. Harry was, of course, well used to this tactic, as it was one of Uncle Vernon’s favourites, and on the whole was grateful he had to suffer nothing worse. In fact, compared to what he usually had to endure from Snape in the way of taunts and snide remarks, he found the new approach something of an improvement and was pleased to find that when left well alone, he was able to concoct an Invigoration Draught quite easily. At the end of the lesson he scooped some of the potion into a flask, corked it, and took it up to Snape’s desk for marking, feeling that he might at last have scraped an E. He had just turned away when he heard a smashing noise; Malfoy gave a gleeful yell of laughter. Harry whipped around again. His potion sample lay in pieces on the floor, and Snape was watching him with a look of gloating pleasure. “Whoops,” he said softly. “Another zero, then, Potter . . .” Harry was too incensed to speak. He strode back to his cauldron, intending to fill another flask and force Snape to mark it, but saw to his horror that the rest of the contents had vanished. “I’m sorry!” said Hermione with her hands over her mouth. “I’m really sorry, Harry, I thought you’d finished, so I cleared up!”

Exhibit 2:

“After this year, of course, many of you will cease studying with me,” Snape went on. “I take only the very best into my N.E.W.T. Potions class, which means that some of us will certainly be saying good-bye.” His eyes rested on Harry and his lip curled. Harry glared back, feeling a grim pleasure at the idea that he would be able to give up Potions after fifth year.

Exhibit 3:

Ron found it quite easy to ignore as they spent most of Saturday and Sunday studying for Potions on Monday, the exam to which Harry was looking forward least and which he was sure would be the one that would be the downfall of his ambitions to become an Auror. Sure enough, he found the written exam difficult, though he thought he might have got full marks on the question about Polyjuice Potion: He could describe its effects extremely accurately, having taken it illegally in his second year. The afternoon practical was not as dreadful as he had expected it to be. With Snape absent from the proceedings he found that he was much more relaxed than he usually was while making potions. Neville, who was sitting very near Harry, also looked happier than Harry had ever seen him during a Potions class. When Professor Marchbanks said, “Step away from your cauldrons, please, the examination is over,” Harry corked his sample flask feeling that he might not have achieved a good grade but that he had, with luck, avoided a fail.

Whereas in Ch 15 of OoTP, Snape had marked Harry’s essay on moonstones as Dreadful and claimed it to be a realistic expectation of OWL grading:

“I have awarded you the grades you would have received if you presented this work in your O.W.L.,” said Snape with a smirk, as he swept among them, passing back their homework. “This should give you a realistic idea of what to expect in your examination.” Snape reached the front of the class and turned to face them. “The general standard of this homework was abysmal. Most of you would have failed had this been your examination. I expect to see a great deal more effort for this week’s essay on the various varieties of venom antidotes, or I shall have to start handing out detentions to those dunces who get D’s.” He smirked as Malfoy sniggered and said in a carrying whisper, “Some people got D’s? Ha!”

And yet, Harry did very well on his OWLs before he even got a whiff of the Prince’s book.

Astronomy A

Care of Magical Creatures EE

Charms EE

Defense Against the Dark Arts O

Divination P

Herbology EE

History of Magic D

Potions EE

Transfiguration EE

Harry and Ron studied (!) both days of the weekend before Potions OWLs (!) without Hermione (!), and still Harry wasn’t sure he’d secure a good grade yet ended up scoring an EE. Exceeds Expectations, which y’know translates to: Surpasses Expectations, So Much Better than Expected, Rather Brilliant.

Unless you believe that anything less than the top percentiles is rubbish, Harry is not a ‘certifiable dunce’. There’s no denying he’s a competent and clever wizard and easily punches above his weight when he’s properly motivated and applies himself. Intelligence is a genetic trait, and Harry comes from nerdstock.

If he could achieve those grades whilst serving 7-hour torture sessions with Umbridge, suffering from Voldemort and Snape tearing into his mind, and putting up with the government slandering him in his second most important school year, running on fumes and sheer will (constantly disruspted sleep routine? Ugh!), then yeah, remove all those crutches, and he’d be raking in straight Os for most of those subjects. (It sort of sounds like ‘excuse our mental health and and anxiety’ for us if we perform poorly in exams, but not for Harry ‘he’s an idiot throwing teen tantrums’. Someone give me a hammer.)

“You’d need top grades for that,” said Professor McGonagall, extracting a small, dark leaflet from under the mass on her desk and opening it. “They ask for a minimum of five N.E.W.T.s, and nothing under ‘Exceeds Expectations’ grade, I see. Then you would be required to undergo a stringent series of character and aptitude tests at the Auror office. It’s a difficult career path, Potter; they only take the best. In fact, I don’t think anybody has been taken on in the last three years.”

Did he earn the grades? Yes. The Auror program ran aptitude tests, too, and only took the best, yes? Not because he’s a hothead with a daredevil streak and impulse issues, yes? Not because his dream was to be an Auror since his third year, or that he was only exceptional at fighting, or some such nonsense. After all, Barty Crouch Jr, he of the impeccable OWLs record, saw something worthy of Auror material in Harry and planted the seed in his mind. (Reminder: Barty also said Hermione should consider joining the Aurors too because her “mind works the right way”.)

And Moody thought he, Harry, ought to be an Auror! Interesting idea . . . but somehow, Harry thought, as he got quietly into his four-poster ten minutes later, the egg and the Cloak now safely back in his trunk, he thought he’d like to check how scarred the rest of them were before he chose it as a career.

If Harry was incapable of telling up from down in Potions, the Prince’s annotations would have been like casting pearls before swine. Worse still, Harry’s supposed lack of know-how would have caused more harm than good. The book only helped to refine the skills and knowledge he had cultivated over five years of study. Having a comfortable learning environment, an encouraging teacher, and superior instructions allowed Harry to maximise his potential and excel in class. (This phenomenon of underachiever-to-star pupil can happen in real life and is not unique to Harry. It happens with neurodivergent students with slightly different needs, students who require a more personal teaching style, and students stunted by an unhealthy learning environment. When their needs are met and supported, they tend to thrive and reach their potential.)

To put it into perspective, imagine taking an average kid whose expertise in cooking extends to making beans on toast and putting them in a professional kitchen. Imagine asking this kid to fillet a salmon and very finely slice lemons for garnish, tasks that require careful hands, finesse, and patience. If the kid can’t distinguish between a paring knife and a boning knife, they don’t stand half a chance. They’re liable to mess up the fish from the get-go. They might use a petty knife for everything and present a terribly executed dish; or they might cleverly choose a smaller knife but misuse it, not knowing that the flexibility and sharpness of a blade vary depending on their purpose, and end up seriously hurting themselves. Either way, filleting a fish is best left to seasoned home cooks and the pros.

In contrast, Harry is identical to a proficient home cook who knows the ropes but lacks some finesse and the fancy carving and plating skills of a trained culinary student. He has a firm grasp of the necessary theory and techniques and knows how to prep ingredients correctly, but may fumble the ideal application of said techniques, lacks an inborn zeal for the craft that lends to creativity, and overlook the finer details, particularly when he’s weighed down by fear of censure and humiliation. His level of success hinges on variables such as his confidence, familiarity with a recipe or method, and the type of environment he’s in. Talent is like a little seed; when nurtured, it will flourish.

Slughorn’s NEWT class was small, admitting twelve students out of a fortyish-student batch. No Gryffindor apart from the Golden Trio made the cut, and they were joined by the lone Hufflepuff, four Ravenclaws, and four Slytherins. Essentially, only a dozen students achieved an EE or O to qualify for NEWT Potions. Fanon will tell you most of the Slytherins have been tinkering with cauldrons in their diapers, but canon shows that only two other Slytherins, besides Draco and Blaise, made the grade. So, how are we still perpetuating this incorrect interpretation that Ron and Harry were barely keeping up academically when they’re more adept than half their year?

Harry and Ron aren’t academically inclined or driven by an obsessive urge to pore over books most hours of the day for fun, so what? Let them joke around and play chess and cards and broom race in the rain without bringing their brains and academics into the equation. Let Harry be a proper child/teen when he’s not busy hunting clues and crushing evil plots. Stop making the sum of HJP be “Powerful Himbo” or “Saviour Complex and Running on Luck”, which is pretty disrespectful towards a character who has shown himself to be so, so competent and well-rounded.

It’s such a huge thorn in my side that both Harry and Sirius (of all people, when he’s twinning with James as the insultingly effortless mavens during their time at Hogwarts!) habitually have their intelligence questioned and maliciously devaluated, or blown off entirely. So I had to sit and get this chaotically demonstrative commentary off my chest. Thank you, if you’ve read till the end!

[maladaptivewriting]

if sirius and regulus are going to do one thing, it’s dramatically leave a room

[number1abbasupporter]

i know that valentine’s day at hogwarts was absolute chaos when James and Sirius were no longer single

[ultravioletbrit]

“new” - Jegulus microfic - @into-the-jeggyverse - 234 words

 

Regulus is making tea in the kitchen in the flat he shares with Sirius when James walks in and casually leans against the counter.  

“You want some?” Regulus asks him.

“Sure… So, I was thinking---” James starts.

“That’s new for you.” Regulus smiles at him.

“Ha ha. I was thinking maybe you and I could hang out this weekend.” James says.

“We hang out all the time.” Regulus states simply as he moves to the cabinets to get some mugs down.

“Right… yeah… but I was thinking maybe we could hang out alone… together… you and me… together, alone… hanging out… together.” James rambles.

Regulus pauses as he’s trying to reach the mugs on the top shelf, he swears Sirius puts them just out of Regulus’ reach on purpose. He slowly turns around to see James against the counter, not so casually anymore with his eyes squeezed shut.

“Are you asking me out, Potter?” Regulus says with a smirk.

“I’m trying really hard.” James replies with his eyes still closed.

Regulus walks over to him and gives him a small chaste kiss on the cheek.

“I’d love to hang out alone, together with you.” Regulus says nonchalantly, quickly turning back to the tea so James doesn’t see his blush or his smile. He can tell James is smiling also without even looking at him.

“Stop smiling like an idiot and get the damn mugs down.”

[losver07]

sirius "would you still love me if i was a worm?" black and remus "you kinda already are" lupin

[marauderstars]

Remus: I love making short jokes about Sirius.

Remus: They go right over his head.

[moonpascaltoo]

ben barnes characters

╰┈➤ 18+ none of these stories belong to me! this is a masterlist of all ben barnes stories i’ve read and reblogged! just thought it would be nice to have them all in one spot! (if your fic is on here and you wish not to be, please let me know!) <3

MASTERLIST • 08/17/24

˚‧⁺ ･ ˖ · ୨ৎ recs

siruis black

billy russo

𑣲 anti-heroe I @sergeantbuckybarnes

You’re assigned to eliminate Frank Castle. But how can you do it? He’s your boyfriend’s best friend. And Billy has no idea you used to kill for money.

𑣲 just wanted to hear your voice I @chvoswxtch

billy hasn't been able to stop thinking about you all morning, and he just wants to hear your voice.

𑣲 sneaking around I @that-sarcastic-writer

You've been sneaking around with Billy, and your brother finds out.

𑣲 a women scorned I @queen-haq

(linking last one so all links are available) You’ve been sleeping with Billy Russo for a few months now. Knowing his aversion to any kind of emotional commitments, you’re satisfied with your clandestine arrangement until you catch him having dinner with Dinah Madani one night. Then it finally dawns on you. It’s not that he doesn’t want to commit, he just doesn’t want to commit to *you*. Billy may think he knows you, but he has no idea what he’s just lost…

𑣲 devil may care I @k-marzolf

Billy keeps ending up on your doorstep wounded.

𑣲 the way you look tonight I @stvrlightgirl

aleksander morozova / the darkling

𑣲 to love another and be loved I @myhairpintrigger

hanahaki disease

𑣲 the hard way I @/myhairpintrigger

𑣲 brighter than the sun I @holden-caulfield

aleksander can't help but regret the choice to leave you as he looks at alina and only sees you.

𑣲 total eclipse I @inej-ruination-ghafa

You were his everything and when he angered the soldiers in the nearby town, they decided to take their revenge out on you, not knowing of the disastrous consequences.

𑣲 the dark side of the moon I @maimingaffairs

king/prince caspian

𑣲 prove her wrong I @oneawkwardwriter

both you and caspian have been miserable

𑣲 i see the light I @/oneawkwardwriter

you're staring at the moon and stars; Caspian is staring at you

𑣲 my prince I @heliads

𑣲 snow on the beach I @inej-ruination-ghafa

the one where you realise that there will be a change in your whole life and you have to leave to behind with someone you don't like

𑣲 like it once was I @banditthewriter

𑣲 do you yield I @im-a-wonderling

𑣲 take everything from me I @isolemnlyswearpevensie

Caspian is jealous because of Y/N’s newfound love for high king Peter Pevensie

𑣲 just ask her already I @mxltifxnd0m

Caspian asks you to the yule ball.

multiple characters

𑣲 take your pick I @marvelmusing

Your boyfriend has a very interesting ability, and every character he can shift into has a special place in your heart. But which one do you want to spend the night with?

[hellish-cruelty]

Unique wallpaper patterns in movies.

Movies - Marie Antoinette (2006), Garden State (2004), Decision to leave (2022), The Aviator (2004), Oldboy (2003), Normal People (2020), Harry Potter and the Order Of Phoenix (2007), I'm Thinking Of Ending Things (2020), The Umbrellas of Cherbourg (1964), The King's Speech (2010)

[stareggie]

remus: how many hours of sleep did you get last night?

sirius: 3 hours, believe it or not.

remus: straight?

sirius: no, bisexual.

[ttulipwritezz]

King Of My Heart (Body And Soul)~ R. Lupin.

🌷Series Masterlist~

Synopsis: when James and lily died, and your brother was sent to Azkaban, Remus was the only person you had left. Until he left too. What happens when he returns after the events of Sirius's escape, only to find out you have a son? A son that's his. Content Warnings: lots of italics, probably grammatical mistakes, kiss(es), might be ooc idk, child (?), fem reader, italics are flashbacks ( idk), love (ew),mentions of self harm, attempt to suic*de, accidental pregnancy, pregnancy, Established relationship, deals with sensitive topics, angst, use of curse words, slow burn (ish)

Chapter 1- Stranger That I know ( posted 27.02.2024) Chapter 2- Expectations (posted 29.02.2024) Chapter 3 - Helpless (posted 08.03.2024) Chapter 4 - Kings And Queens ( posted 15.05.2024) Chapter 5 (coming soon)

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🌷Main Masterlist

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[remuslupinslittleslut]

poly!marauders x drunk!reader at a party and reader needy but they don’t want to help reader because they don’t want to do anything when reader basically unconscious of what’s happening because reader is drunk. So they try to explain to reader that they will gladly take care of them after they get better and go to bed. Thank you!

OH to be manhandled by poly!marauders

I changed it slightly, reader is not quite unconscious, but still to drunk to make sane decisions, and the boys interfere because we love consent!

Smutty part two here!

Throwing the last of your drink back, you let your eyes wander over the three men standing across the room. They’re tall, handsome, and the blinking lights of the party only make them look that much more delicious to you.

Deciding to make your way over, you almost trip as you climb over limbs, pressing your body between others.

“Hi darling, having fun?” Asks one of your three boyfriends, as you fall into his arms, having been pushed lightly by the moving crowd.

“Yes, Siri, very fun,” you say, leaning in to kiss right below his ear.

You feel another set of arms around you, knowing it to be James’. He and Sirius usually got the most overprotective of you in these types of situations – Remus just kept an eye on you from across the room, not feeling the need to be near you all the time, knowing you’d be going home with them anyways.

“Love,” James laughed, “You are drunk.”

Turning your head to look at him, you find stars covering your eyes, and when they disappear, you have some trouble knowing which of the two sets of eyes are really his.

“No, Jamie, I’m not, just a lil happy, s’all,” your words come out slightly slurred, only proving James’ accusation to be true.

They share a look, something you’re too busy to notice. Your lips are pressing into Sirius’ neck, hands holding on to his shoulders, small moans escaping your lips.

“Baby, it’s time to go home,” he murmurs, lips pressed to the top of your head.

When you get home, you feel like you’ve won, it’s finally time to take those pants off. You hold on tightly to James as Sirius helps you out of your clothes, your head racing, ready for the feeling of lips against your core. That never comes. Instead, a t-shirt is placed over your head, and you’re handed a cup of water. Deciding that this was no fun, you instead make your way over to the bed, where Remus lay. You’re not very graceful as you climb over him, resting your thighs on either side of his hips.

“Hi, darling,” he says, arms wrapping around you.

“Hi Remmy,” you sloppily move your hips, lips kissing along his shoulder.

“What’re you doing, love?” Remus asks, hands holding your hips to stop them from moving.

You sigh, one hand moving down to touch the growing bulge in his pants.

“What’s it seem like? I’m tryna get in your pants,” you say, irritation growing.

His hands wrap around your wrists, legs maneuvering you to lay down next to him.

“No, baby, you’re too drunk,” he says, kissing the top of your head lightly. “You can’t give proper consent when you’re like this.”

“But Remmy, I want it,” you argue.

“No darling,” says James, having plopped down on the bed next to you, one hand brushing strands of hair away from your face. “You’re not sober, you can’t make a sound decision right now, we’re not gonna have sex with you tonight.”

You sigh heavily, kicking your legs in annoyance. The heat in your core, the dripping of your juices down your thighs doesn’t just stop because you had a few drinks.

A head of curly hair pops out of the adjoining bathroom, toothpaste running slightly around the goofy smile. “We can have sex tomorrow, when we’re all sober!”“Yeah, love, we love fucking you, but right now, we’ll cuddle, and then we can have other kinds of fun in the morning,” Remus says, reassuringly.

[acertifiedwitch]

When your card declines at therapy so they bring up the characters that loved each other like breathing, that couldn’t handle when the other was gone like the air was lacking in their lungs and they bring up the fact that one of them died and the other was left to alone, not able to breathe anymore and yet still being alive