#lestrange sr

[overlord-of-fantasy]

Overheard in the Hogwarts library

Abraxas, happily shaking a bag of money: Nothing in life is free. Hagrid: Love is free. Minerva: Knowledge is free. Myrtle: Friendship is free. Alphard: Self-respect is free. Tom, playing with "his" harmonica: Everything's free if you don't pay for it. Everyone: ... Minerva: Tom, that's illegal- Lestrange: No, let him finish!

[golden-earcuffs]

Knights of Walpurgis is such an interesting concept to me because I imagine them to be nothing like Death Eaters.

I like to think of the Knights of Walpurgis as not Lord Voldemort’s first followers but as Tom Riddle’s only friends.

To me they are Slytherin boys in Tom’s year: Malfoy, Lestrange, Mulciber, Avery, Rosier, Nott & Riddle.

They first became acquaintances and then quickly became friends– and only agreed to be called Knights of Walpurgis because they thought their group lacked an aesthetic name.

They were a warm knit of Slytherins and Tom basked in their presence. They were his friends and his family and there was a time– before killing curses and tattered bits of soul– when Tom Riddle was truly happy.

[capriddle]

It makes sense that Voldemort didn't believe in love. His father obviously never wanted it, his mother chose to die instead of surviving for him. Parents are the first people who have to love you and Voldemort for one reason or another didn't have the love of any of his parents. Furthermore, if he had discovered that Merope chose to die for love (or rather, for lack of love) things would have been even worse, he would have linked love to death and so he would have tried to escape from love too. So he would have silenced Bellatrix every time she told him she loved him and he would have convinced himself that he couldn't love. He would have died anyway after seeing the woman he (unknowingly) loved.

[simping-4-voldemort]

Onion Headlines and Harry Potter Characters part 23/?

[dystopianrebel]

What We’re Fighting For

“Don’t worry,” Harry replied instead, “we’re not squeamish, are you?”

“Absolutely not,” the smile on Lestrange’s face briefly reminded Harry of Sirius, hitting a sensitive cord.

This Tomarry (& other ships) fic is for Lex, for Fandom Trumps Hate! You can check it out now!

[nikolai-alexi]

hey so I’ve had a horrific awful heartbreaking thought about barty crouch jr after watching GoF again and I need all of you to suffer with me through this strange almost fic/HC/character analysis thing don’t judge me it’s 0300 and I haven’t slept in like 32 hours, thanks

Has anyone ever thought about the fact that Barty may have been Imperioused to torture the Longbottoms?

Like, think about it for a minute.

(TW: this whole thing is sad and fucked up be prepared)

Karkaroff names Barty Crouch Jr during his own interrogation to try and lighten his own sentence, and Barty is immediately apprehended by Moody and the other stationed Aurors as he tries to escape (or attack Karkaroff, which I think is more likely at that point). Barty obviously doesn’t deny his involvement in the torture, but he doesn’t admit to it either, which strikes me as strange.

Everything we know about Barty Crouch Jr’s character, canonically anyways, says that he wouldn’t be the type to allow others to take credit for his crimes, not out of any misplaced loyalty of course, but because he wants the credit for them. If you recall his reaction to Dumbledore instructing Snape to call the Aurors in GoF, he’s almost excited to go back, and says “they’ll welcome me as a hero” or some such. Especially in the lead up to being given the Dementor’s Kiss, he acts proud of the crimes he committed. So that poses a question in my head. Why on Earth would Barty not admit to it right then and there? He’s already going to Azkaban purely on Karkaroff’s word, and his father is right there. It’s the perfect opportunity to destroy Crouch Sr’s career, to force him to look at the shell of his son and see what his own casual cruelty has done, and it’s the perfect opportunity for Barty to cement himself as a devout follower for the other Death Eater sympathisers in the Ministry. With a crime of torturing one of the most promising and outspoken Aurors on the force and his wife to insanity, what better way to do all of that and then some?

So…why didn’t he?

We know Evan has only recently been killed at the time of Karkaroff’s interrogation. And likely, Barty is out of his mind with grief. Regulus is missing, if not already declared dead, Evan is dead, Dorcas is dead, and Pandora may not be dead yet but she certainly would have cut all contact to Barty by this point. Barty Crouch Jr is completely and utterly alone. He has no one to comfort him, no one to keep him from letting the grief consume him. He’s missing the very people who used to keep his inherit craziness in check. It only makes sense that in that grief-filled haze of anger and crippling sadness, that he might not be all there, really.

So, he gets sent to ambush the Longbottoms with Bellatrix, Rabastan, and Rodolphous by the Dark Lord. He goes, because he’s been told to and no one defies the Dark Lord. He gets there. He fights. He goes through the motions like he’s supposed to do. He enjoys the adrenaline rush from a fight, it’s the first thing he’s felt since that neon jet of light hit Evan’s chest from Alastor Moody’s wand. He expects things to end as they usually do, with bodies on the ground and their orders completed. But nothing really goes to plan when Bellatrix Black is involved, does it?

Perhaps he’s aware, perhaps not, but one minute they’re fighting four on two, and the next, Frank and Alice Longbottom are on the ground, stunned, not dead like they should be, and Barty’s being snatched up side-along by Rabastan as they apparate away. He has no idea where they are, he doesn’t have any time to try and figure it out either, because the room is already filled with tortured screaming and maniacal laughter. He’s disoriented, his brain is fogged, he’s wholly and completely lost.

And perhaps Rabastan Lestrange looks over at Barty Crouch Jr, a boy not much out of school, a boy who’d lost everything, a boy who certainly was a little mad, but a boy who he knows doesn’t quite have the merciless capability of violence that his brother and his insane fiancé do. And perhaps, in what he thinks may be a mercy, he whispers the imperious curse underneath the screams of the Longbottoms, and instructs Barty on what to do.

So Barty doesn’t admit to it in that court room. Not because he didn’t do it, but because he knows his father. Knows that no matter how much he’ll proclaim to the jury that Barty is no son of his, that he has to know the truth. He knows Crouch Sr will come and question him personally. So he says nothing. He has every opportunity to ruin his father once and for all, every opportunity to cement himself as a loyalist, every opportunity to take credit for a monumental tragedy, but he admits nothing.

His father comes to the dark, damp holding cells and he tells him then. Tells him, yes! I was there! But it wasn’t me. It wasn’t. I was imperioused. I swear to you. Father, please. He begs. Barty Crouch Jr begs. Please, believe me, please.

And Barty Crouch Sr laughs. He laughs and laughs and laughs until tears roll down his cheeks.

Perhaps it’s that very moment when the last strand of Barty’s real sense of humanity snaps. Long before he ever suffers under the captivity of the Dementors, his father severs that last thread with a brutal swipe of his hand across a track of mirthful tears. And he leaves the hollowed out shell of his son behind with a chuckle. Leaves him to spend yet another night awake, replaying the horror of having his will stripped from him, of being completely aware of his actions, and being unable to do anything to stop them. Leaves him to his gut wrenching sobs and desperate gasps for air. Leaves him to the rare moments of fitful sleep, where he calls out for his mother, for his dead lover, for his dead friends, and for his father. He leaves his son, who calls for anyone to help him, to save him, to hold him. None of them respond.

Barty Crouch Jr is a shell of a human being long before he ever gets his first glimpse of the sea-surrounded prison.

He spends a year nearly motionless. He eats when he is forced by the Auror guards. He sleeps when his body can no longer stand to be awake. He moves cells when he is forced to. He speaks rarely, and usually only to one person who bears a frightening resemblance to one of his frequent hallucinated visitors. But mostly, he just stares at the grey bricked wall in front of him, eyes unseeing, unaware of time passing, and hardly even affected by the Dementor’s presence as empty as he is.

He doesn’t react at all when his mother and father appear in front of his cell. He isn’t even aware of them, really. They’re common enough hallucinations for him, but they’ve never appeared on the outside of his cell before, which is strange, but he hasn’t eaten in Merlin only knows how long, so it takes far too much energy to question it. It isn’t until his cell door swings open and his mother’s bony hand runs across his gaunt face that he sort of begins to comprehend that they’re real this time. He’s still trying to wrap his brain around that fact when a horrid tasting potion is forced down his throat and he feels his body being morphed by magic into something - no, someone - else. He’s so far behind what’s happening, he doesn’t understand the words being spoken to him, he’s lost again, doggy paddling against the roaring waves of grief and pain and madness in his mind. If he had been a second’s breath faster, he would have comprehended the terror his body felt at the spell that falls from his father’s lips, but he knows nothing as the spell takes hold and his will is ripped away from him once more.

He spends eleven years just the same. Eating when instructed. Bathing as instructed. Sitting, sleeping, waking, walking, and dressing as instructed and only when instructed by his captor. He knows nothing under the spell. His own awareness is trapped so far within himself, he knows nothing except for what he’s told and he does his instructed tasks with robotic motions. He does not speak.

It should be surprising, what wakes his conscience, but it isn’t. Not really. He is instructed by his captor to leave his cell and walk downstairs to the parlour. He rises and does as he is told. He walks into the parlour and stands motionless just inside the door. He has not been given more directions than this. He does not move a muscle. There are voices around him, their words are meaningless to him. He understands nothing. He is instructed to come forward, to sit on the sofa, to look his captor’s guest in the eye. He does as he is told.

He does as he is told and pure, unbearable fury engulfs him.

He looks into the eye of his captor’s guest and all he sees is the light draining from Evan’s unmistakable eyes and feels the weight of his grief and anger and loneliness break through the emptiness that has been his protection underneath the chains of the spell. It doesn’t break the spell itself, but it releases him from the confines of himself. He is aware again. He understands again. He feels again. The only one who notices his re-emergence is the house-elf who wrings her hands nervously in the corner of the room. She can feel the fury-filled flare of his magic. She knows he’s been awoken. She feels the spell’s hold falter for a moment and knows it won’t be long before he breaks free from it.

She’s right.

He breaks through the spell not half a year later. He has to unravel it slowly. It’s been so long since he’s felt his own magic that he can barely tell the difference between his own and his father’s. He was a deft hand at wandless magic back in school, but he doesn’t recall his own birthday, let alone how to coax his magic into his hands and bend it gently around his wishes. He has to make sure his father is none the wiser, else the sick bastard may renew the spell again and render him a puppet once more.

He starts to remember some things as he unwinds the foreign magic surrounding him. He remembers his name again. It’s Barty. Barty Crouch Jr. He remembers his birthday is the seventh of August 1962. He remembers he was officially sorted into Ravenclaw in school, but by the end of his schooling, he lived in the Slytherin dorms. He doesn’t remember why. He remembers Evan, remembers loving him and remembers the pain when he loses him, and remembers another boy who fades away from his discombobulated memories. He doesn’t remember the other boy’s name, but he remembers him being pale, with icy blue eyes, and dark curls. He remembers he used to annoy that boy endlessly by tugging on those curls and teasing him fondly. He remembers the feeling of agony when that boy faded away. He remembers two girls, one with shockingly blonde hair and serene eyes, and the other with dark skin and long braids. He doesn’t remember their names either. He feels like he should.

He gains more and more awareness the more he chips away at the spell. Soon enough, he’s ready to sever it once and for all. He waits patiently at the floo for his father to come home from work. He has not been instructed to do this.

Barty Crouch Sr steps through the floo to his home, and knows immediately that he is in immediate danger. He is pinned to the wall behind him by his throat before he can even think to slip his wand from its holster. He understands very suddenly what his son has felt the last twelve years as he fall victim to the Imperious Curse. He might’ve felt guilty if he could’ve felt anything at all.

Barty’s plans have always been half-cocked at best, he’d always had Evan and Regulus, who he remembers now, to fix his mad schemes. He feels like getting into Hogwarts disguised as the most recognisable Auror on the force, who he currently has trapped in a chest and was also ridiculously easy to capture, should be much harder than it was. He hadn’t expected the gaps in his own memory to be his worst enemy on this mission. Often, he struggled to remember that it was 1994, not 1974, and that the students sitting in front of them were not their parents.

He struggled to remember that Luna Lovegood wasn’t Pandora Rosier. Or that Harry Potter wasn’t James Potter. Or that Draco Malfoy wasn’t Lucius Malfoy. Or that Hermione Granger wasn’t Mary MacDonald. Or that Susan Bones wasn’t Imogen MacMillan.

Or that Neville wasn’t Frank Longbottom.

Everything else was far too easy.

Keeping his father under his control even from far away? It was nothing with all the excess magic stored up over twelve years of imprisonment.

Brewing Polyjuice and stealing from Snape’s private stores? The most fun he’s had since his fifth year of school.

Keeping his constant hallucinations from breaking his cover? More difficult than he’d like to admit, but still nothing to break a sweat about.

Getting in contact with Pettigrew after the whispers of the Dark Lord gaining power once again? Too simple.

Entering Potter in the tournament? Like stealing candy from a firstie.

Weasling his way into Potter’s confidence? Pathetically simple, Dumbledore had manipulated the boy into a perfect pawn.

Setting the hints in motion to get Potter through the tournament alive so the Dark Lord could rise again? Please, he could do it in his sleep.

Creating the port key to the Little Hangleton graveyard? He’d been fucking with illegal port keys since he was fourteen years old, nothing stumped him there.

At least this time around, when he tortured and murdered someone in cold blood, he did it of his own freed will. The fact that it was his own father he did it to only made it that much sweeter.

Perhaps he could have planned his own escape better, but after thirteen years of emptiness, he didn’t quite know how to think for himself any longer. The Dark Lord hadn’t told him to save himself, so he didn’t. He let the Aurors drag him away, and stared at the grey bricks of a prison cell once more. He let the emptiness swallow him whole again, and let the gavel seal his fate without a word to his defense. He let the Dementor close in on him without a single reaction. If someone had looked closely enough, they may have seen a tear roll down his gaunt face, but no one did so they didn’t see anything.

But, as he felt his soul being ripped from his body, he finally heard the last words his father had said before he murdered him.

“My son,” Barty Crouch Sr had said, blood coming from his mouth and voice hoarse from hours of screaming, “I’m sorry I didn’t believe you. I do, now,”

The last thing he thinks, is that living without a soul is rather familiar, after all, it’s all he’s done the last thirteen years. It feels like it should be painful, but the emptiness in his body is comfortable. He’s found protection in being a shell of a person since Rabastan Lestrange rendered him empty all those years ago. He only regrets they didn’t just kill him outright, he might have gotten to see Evan, and the others he’s forgotten again, on the other side if they had.

But that’s okay.

He’d never deserved a happy ending anyways.

The emptiness closes in around him again. In the space between one breath and the next, there is nothing left of Barty Crouch Jr besides a shell of a creature that certainly can’t be called a human. The creature knows nothing of life and death. Just that at some point, its body begins to shut down until its heart stops and nothing else.

There is no one to mourn, but the fish are grateful for the free meal.

[midnightstargazer]

Aesthetics for my fanfics, part 13

Heart of Stone

Teen & Up, No Archive Warnings Apply, ~1,300 words

Narcissa Malfoy attends the Lestranges’ trial

[nicos-oc-hell]

Fankids appreciation week: day 7 - family dynamics

This moodboard could fit a lot of my families but ofc I’m doing the Perphyra’s. The Perphyra’s consist of Ayas Perphyra and Cassandra Salas, Jason and Yasmine Shadid, Viktor Sr and Elizabeth Somerset (@camillejeaneshphm), Viktor Jr, Pietro, Anatoly and Ashley Lestrange, Sinncere, Jebron and Jimena Galardo (@endlessly-cursed). With a family who has so many different personalities, they are bound to clash at some point and in this family…it might as well be a daily occurrence. Most of the clashing is just them asking stupid scenarios which leads to a whole bunch of arguing.

Will they always be there for each other? Sure! Do they honestly wish they weren’t related? Most definitel

[alwaysunabasheddelusion]

Part I

A continuation of the Barty Crouch Sr. fic I am slowly poking my way through. 

His blood ran cold as he approached the holding cells, and not because of the ominous sentries stationed nearby, grim and silent beneath dark hoods.

“Father?” The youngest of the prisoners gripped the bars of his cell with both hands, eyes wide and terrified as he stared up at the newcomers.

The color leeched from Barty’s face until he was as white as the boy. “What have you done?” He demanded in a hoarse voice. His chest constricted, his breathing labored, but he forced out the words. “I taught you right from wrong! I taught you the dangers of associating with…with Dark Arts scum!”

He pointed a shaking finger at one of the men sharing a cell with his son. One of the Lestrange brothers, although he didn’t know which was which. They seemed to come as a pair. The man spat contemptuously at his feet.

“Father, I didn’t do it!” His son pleaded, pressing his face against the bars.

“Do not lie to me! You were caught red-handed!” His gaze swept his son, taking in the state of his robes. They were as burnt and torn as those of the Aurors.

“I’m not!” The boy said. “I swear I’m not!”

“Daddy doesn’t look happy to see his son,” A singsong voice came from the lone woman of the group.

Barty regarded her coldly. She would have been beautiful if not for the haughty sneer marring her face. Thick black wavy hair fell past her shoulders. She, at least, was no surprise. Her grandfather had been his mother’s cousin, but their descendants had diverged sharply on which side of this conflict to ally with.

“Bellatrix Black,” he said, matching her contempt. “As happy as your cousin will be to see you join him in Azkaban, I expect. You can explain to him how the Ministry stopped both of you in your foul tracks.”

(He knew that wasn’t precisely true; they had caught both of them only after they had committed shocking atrocities. But he was scrabbling for any sort of mental foothold in the wake of seeing his son in chains.)

“Lestrange,” she corrected with a cackle, seemingly unperturbed by the position she found herself in.

Unlike the pale-faced boy, manacled arms wrapped around himself, who had fallen silent but continued to watch Barty in mute supplication. Barty glanced at the two men sharing the cell with his son and then back at Bellatrix, ignoring the younger Barty’s pleading face with difficulty.

“Rodolphus and I are married now,” Bellatrix said. “A little spot of torture was such a nice way to celebrate.” She cocked her head, smiling mockingly. “You should have been there. It would have been such a lovely way of bonding with your son, hmm?”

“If I had been there,” Barty said, one hand curling into a fist in the pocket of his robe, “all of you could have been rotting in Azkaban sooner.”

“Yes, why ever did you hide?” Carmichael asked. “We’ve had to postpone your Azkaban honeymoon.”

“It’s hardly a honeymoon,” Wardell Crickerly corrected. “We don’t place married couples in the same cells, you know.”

A headache was building in Barty’s temple. He massaged his forehead. The nearness of the dementors wasn’t helping, but he wouldn’t risk sending them away.

Rabastan stuck his face through the bars of his cell and glowered at Barty and the Aurors. “Laugh all you want. You’ll get what’s coming to you one day, blood traitor.” 

Crickerly leaned against the opposite wall, arms folded. “Is that so? It seems to me you’ll have a frightful time carrying out that threat when you’re stuck in Azkaban. You ought to have learned to listen to me when I was prefect, Lestrange.”

“Listen to you? You’re conspiring with Mudbloods.” Rabastan cast a venomous look in Clive Carmichael’s direction. 

Carmichael was at the cell doors in a flash, brandishing his wand in Rabastan’s face. “Look here–”

Barty stepped between Carmichael and the cell, lifting his own wand in warning. “Put that away. This isn’t an interrogation.”

Carmichael grudgingly slid his wand into the pocket of his robes.

“Tell nobody we’ve apprehended the suspects until we’ve set a date for the trial,” Barty said.

Carmichael stared at him in astonishment. “But everyone should know they’re no longer at large! This is headline news! We—”

Crickerly flicked his wand in Carmichael’s direction, silencing him. Barty didn’t bother reprimanding him. He didn’t want to hear the rest of Carmichael’s foolish, insensitive sentence.

Headline news indeed! The Daily Prophet would certainly find this worthy of the front page, but not for the reasons Carmichael was thinking.

Barty dreaded the day the wider wizarding world found out his son’s involvement. Which they must, of course. But he wanted it to be on his own terms, when he could forestall speculation that he’d known and turned a blind eye due to favoritism.

“Send them to Azkaban until their trial.”

There was a sharp intake of breath from his son’s cell, followed by frantic pleas. “Father, father! No! Don’t leave me! Father!”

Neither of the Aurors reacted to the younger Barty’s cries, although Carmichael nearly drew his wand again when Bellatrix called after them, “The Longbottoms were the lucky ones! The Dark Lord won’t be so merciful to the rest of you!”

Crickerly grabbed Carmichael’s wrist. “Don’t let her rile you up,” he whispered. Bellatrix laughed in response, a shrill sound that echoed throughout the dungeon.

Carmichael glared sourly and allowed Crickerly to lead him out of the dungeons, taking a moment to point his wand at his mouth as they left.

Barty stalked behind them. His son reached through the bars as he went past, still babbling in near incoherent fright. “Father! Please! Wait! Listen to me! Father! Don’t go, don’t leave me! Father, wait! Don’t go!”

Barty yanked his robe away from the boy’s grasping fingers, refusing to answer. But his son’s piteous cries echoed in his mind long after he’d left the dungeons behind.

[leogichidaa]

What’s even more baffling about the Lestranges talking their way out of Azkaban initially is that, presumably, this is not long after Sirius is thrown in Azkaban without a trial. The whole thing couldn’t have been long after Voldemort fell, because I’m pretty sure Neville wasn’t that old at the time (don’t quote me on that, it’s impossible to sort out a timeline in this series. The only time I’m certain of is when Harry was born and when the Potters were killed), so like, they really went “throw this man in without a trial, but give sham trials to almost everyone else we suspect of being a Death Eater.” Sirius’s alleged crimes seem to be about on part with what we hear the actual Death Eaters were doing. His crime was murdering Peter and 12 Muggles; we later hear of the Death Eaters attacking bridges and such, killing countless Muggles. Frank and Alice were tortured into permanent insanity, Dolohov tortured and murdered countless Muggles and Voldemort non-supporters (he even has this one spell that almost killed Hermione even through the silencing spell, she’s stuck resting Hospital Wing and taking 10 potions to recover), Benjy Fenwick was evidently torn apart, the Bones and McKinnon families were practically annihilated. It’s clearly not that Sirius’s crime was particularly heinous in comparison to what we canonically know the Death Eaters did and that there are even more acts we don’t know about (per the statements about how horrific the First Voldemort War was). The Ministry may have just been trying to put the war behind them and decided to forego trials, but that wouldn’t make sense with the number of Death Eaters who claimed the Imperius Curse and went free. At what point did the Ministry decide to give trials? Sirius was thrown in Azkaban roughly a day after Halloween, so evidently they adopted the “trials optional” stance early on in the war, so when did they decide to start giving trials again? They had to have at some point for so many people to walk free.

No, listen, what really gets me is that Crouch Sr was ready to throw Ludo Bagman into Azkaban for unwittingly passing information on to a Ministry worker who later turned out to be a spy for Voldemort, but Bella and the terror twins? Free to go. What the fuck?

(Tangentially related, but I feel some type of way about everyone calling Ludo a dumbass for giving Rookwood information when Rookwood worked for the Ministry and no one in that courtroom knew until Karkaroff snitched. He fooled the entire Ministry. So. Fuck all of you, leave my man Ludo alone)

I think it's likely that throwing suspects in Azkaban without trial happened primarily while the war was still actively ongoing. The Ministry was frazzled and scrambling and Crouch was advocating for killing suspects and using Unforgivables on them. Trials probably seemed like a luxury and they decided they didn't have the time and resources to give everyone trials so they'd just go with their gut and hurl people in jail based on vibes.

When Voldemort fell, I suppose Crouch decided that Sirius didn't need a trial either because the evidence was so overwhelming and what was the point? I don't know. I can't really fathom his motivation for not giving Sirius a trial, since the trial might have been a moment of triumph for Crouch. He had the opportunity to sit in the courtroom and sentence Voldemort's alleged right hand man, the man who betrayed the Potters. It seemed like a slam dunk trial too, given the evidence available at the time. He couldn't be bothered, though, for whatever reason.

After Voldemort fell, the Ministry was less terrified and overwhelmed and they had more time to spend rounding up Death Eaters and putting them on trial and pretending that they were a functioning government again. And, I suppose, letting actual war criminals get away with horrific crimes based on bribes and vibes.

[daily-hp-shitposts]

Make your own horrible crack ship

[forestdeath1]

Regulus wasn't forced by his parents to join the Death Eaters

What do we know about the Black family? I'll write a post about this because there's quite a bit we know if we read the canon in depth.

But the main point for this post is that for the Blacks, the survival and prosperity of their lineage were critically important.

The survival of their surname was in a precarious state at that time because women did not keep their surname nor pass it on to their children. Only two people could continue the line – Sirius and Regulus.

Preserving their lineage was so crucial for the Blacks that they didn't officially disown Sirius after his escape, or they reinstated him after Regulus's death. Because Sirius was the last Black. The last one who could carry on their line. Even if he was a rebellious Gryffindor who liked "mudbloods," he was still a Black.

When Sirius died, even the portrait was upset, although it's not alive. It's simply a reflection of the Blacks' attitude towards the survival of their lineage.

Am I to understand,’ said Phineas Nigellus slowly from Harry’s left, ‘that my great-great-grandson – the last of the Blacks – is dead?’

‘Yes, Phineas,’ said Dumbledore.
‘I don’t believe it,’ said Phineas brusquely.
Harry turned his head in time to see Phineas marching out of his portrait and knew that he had gone to visit his other painting in Grimmauld Place. He would walk, perhaps, from portrait to portrait, calling for Sirius through the house ...

By the time Regulus was 16, Sirius had already run away from home.

Now, explain to me, all you fans of the "Regulus was forced" idea, what would be going through Orion and Walburga's heads to make them push their last hope for the continuation of their lineage into joining a combat organization where people are constantly being killed?

Considering they didn't join themselves because they disliked the methods and probably understood Tom's real goals.

Walburga was in school with Tom Riddle and was two years older than him. Orion Black was also in school with Tom, but he was two years younger. By that time, Tom Riddle aka Voldemort, hadn't yet changed his appearance to the point of being unrecognizable. They all knew who Voldemort was. Tom Riddle. An orphan boy. Likely, they knew he was the heir of Slytherin, which was important for the Blacks because, for them, it wasn't about money but about blood. True nobility and dignity are in the blood, not wealth. The Blacks aren't the Malfoys. And as Sirius said, at some point, they were inspired by Tom's ambition to change the situation in their country, although Sirius obviously knew very little about Voldemort, as he was hardly discussed in front of the children. But initially, the Blacks were inspired because he was worthy, the heir of Slytherin, right?

Probably Orion, Arcturus/Pollux realized that Tom didn't care about blood purity. He cared about his own power. By the time they understood this, Tom's power was already too strong, and he had won much support among the pure-blood society, who believed he genuinely cared about pure-blood wizards.

Why did Sirius say he was sure their parents were proud of Regulus?

Because most likely, not both parents were proud, as Sirius doesn't mention the father at all, and Walburga had an irrational desire to see her son as a hero. Sirius – the lineage's continuer, and Regulus – a brave and courageous warrior for blood purity. Because being a Death Eater was seen as brave and cool. They were revolutionaries. Chosen warriors.

Moreover, Bella was already in the organization and could influence Walburga's opinion against Orion and Arcturus's wishes. Playing on Walburga's emotional irrationality wasn't very hard, especially for Bella and Rodolphus.

Bella was in love with Voldemort. Rodolphus was devoted to Voldemort from the start, as Lestrange Sr. had been a supporter of Tom since their school days. The Rosiers fall into the same group. Surprise, surprise, Bella's mother – Druella Rosier, was likely the sister of that very Rosier who was with Tom from the start and who was Evan Rosier's father. Cygnus Black is open for interpretation, but my headcanon is that from a young age, he was a bit more aggressive than the others and didn't quite fit into the family dynamics and control (and Bella took after him in part).

Who convinced Regulus to join the organization, even knowing Orion and the Blacks were against it?

From the little we know about Regulus, it's clear he was a maximalist inclined to broad "heroic" actions, with his own understanding of honor. He had been committed to the idea of blood purity from childhood, believing it to be truly noble and important. He wanted to be a hero and admired Voldemort. Also, always being second to Sirius, he wanted to prove his worth. That he too was strong and brave and capable of significant, but correct actions. And, our beloved Bella was there. She helped him join the organization at 16.

If you want tragedy in Regulus Black's story, here it is:

Regulus Black went to his death knowing he was the last of the Blacks. He destroyed his family. His lineage. Put an end to it. Even for Sirius, running away was easier because Regulus was still there. When Regulus went to his death, Sirius had already run away from home.

There's much more interesting stuff here than "Regulus was forced." But who cares, right? Fuck canon, live fanon.

[capriddle]

I think Andromeda's escape with Tonks had the same effect on Bellatrix as discovering that her father was a Muggle had on Tom Riddle, that is, it gave her a strong motivation of hatred against Muggles.

[childotkw]

Title: you belong to me (i belong to you)

Fandom:  Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling

Rating:  Not Rated

Relationships: Harry Potter & Tom Riddle, Harry Potter/Ginny Weasley

Characters: Harry Potter, Tom Riddle, Abraxas Malfoy, Avery Sr. (Harry Potter), Lestrange Sr., Nott Sr. (Harry Potter), Orion Black, Albus Dumbledore, Original Male Character(s), Original Female Character(s)

Additional Tags: Time Travel, Body Swap, Riddle at Hogwarts Era, Slytherin Politics, Slytherin Harry, Grey Harry, Auror Harry, Mind Games, Obsessive Behavior, Possessive Behavior, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Rape Aftermath, Underage Rape/Non-con, Suicide Attempt, The Non-con is not between Harry and Tom

Chapters: 20/?

Chapter Summary:

“Why are you even here?” Simon demanded after he let the pause stretch too far, puffing up with indignation. It did nothing to hide how his gaze roamed along the hall again, or how that fear from earlier came bludgeoning back to the surface, eating away at the last vestiges of Simon’s self-control.

Orion blinked at him, intrigued at how someone as ruthless and self-serving as this boy could, at the same time, be so easily shaken. The dichotomy was so strong that he had to wonder how Simon even functioned day-to-day. Surely the other boy would drive himself mad trying to align those two aspects of himself.

“I’m here to check up on my friend,” he answered calmly, head swaying to the side as he waited. When Simon finally found the nerve to meet his eyes once more, Orion let his mouth curl up meanly, and struck. “Why are you?”

[saintsenara]

metas on characters and characterisation

the golden trio

- canonical proof that ron is hot - is harry more like lily or james - on fanon!hermione - the trio and the horcruxes - thoughts on the trio's post-canon careers

tom riddle | lord voldemort

- how do i write voldemort, and why? - what is interesting about voldemort as a character archetype? - my pet peeves when it comes to writing voldemort - reading tom riddle as a victim of childhood sexual abuse - tom riddle and ginny - tom riddle has his mother's eyes [plus: other things he inherits from her] - tom riddle's speech and accent - voldemort's bad heart - voldemort's campest moments - voldemort's horcruxes do not make him insane - voldemort loves the golden age of hollywood. no, really - voldemort would hate being minister for magic. i'll die on this hill - what does dumbledore get wrong about voldemort? - what if merope had lived? - what would have happened if tom riddle had been committed to a psychiatric hospital? - what would voldemort be like as a father? - when does voldemort's relationship with slughorn go wrong? - where does voldemort buy the diary? - where is the cave? - would the riddles have changed tom jr.'s name? - would tom riddle have done better in a different house? - tom riddle sr.'s characterisation - tom riddle sr.'s class background - on morfin and merope - where is little hangleton?

severus snape

- snape's training [or: why is snape called a potions master?] - snape and fem!harry - why doesn't snape seem to know what horcruxes are? - lily and petunia's class background compared to snape's - was snape welcome in lily's house? - what might snape's relationship with slughorn be like?

the marauders

- snape is afraid of lupin [and not the other way round] - why does snape leak that lupin's a werewolf?

others

- barty crouch jr. is the best villain in the series [and was a loyal death eater from the start] - ludo bagman was genuinely a death eater - stan shunpike was genuinely a death eater - thoughts on the lestrange brothers - why does regulus black turn against voldemort? - why does slughorn know what horcruxes are? - why is charlie away from home so much?

[t1oui]

percy weasley knowing he’s different from his family from a young age; seeing that no matter how many quidditch games he plays with his brothers, the afternoons he spends reading will always stand out more.

percy weasley getting sorted into slytherin and feeling hate from his youngest brothers, his parents, who believe all slytherins are destined to be like voldemort.

percy weasley growing up in a house that embraces his way of thinking and taking in other kids like him.

percy weasley becoming one of the faces of his house: the reliable one, the protective one, a true slytherin always ready to defend his snakes.

percy weasley taking harry potter under his wing the second the wizarding world voices its problem with the boy-who-lived not being a gryffindor.

percy weasley vowing to protect draco malfoy, who hides behind his godfather and flinches when adults get too close, but who always, always shows up for his friends.

percy weasley going straight into the ministry and being so proud, even when his family isn’t. percy moving in with penelope and marcus and oliver and frowning when his boss can’t get his name right, but not as deeply as he might have without them.

percy weasley protecting his snakes, even after he’s left them, when he risks his career and stays at hogwarts because while there’s something wrong with crouch sr., moody’s been using the imperious on harry, and he won’t ignore that like everybody else.

percy weasley hating dumbledore, who’s never respected his snakes, but hating voldemort more. percy weasley turning nineteen with a mark on his left forearm. percy weasley being on the wrong side of the fight that in another world ends in the death of sirius black, but in this world ends in the death of bellatrix lestrange, who mysteriously found herself between the veil and percy’s expelliarmus.

percy weasley being a spy, and his family hating him because he left and they don’t know where he went.

percy weasley being determined to be better than dumbledore’s order, passing notes to harry and draco instead of the man himself. percy using code and spells crafted in the corners of malfoy manor to make sure only his snakes know who they’re speaking with.

percy weasley arriving at the battle of hogwarts as one of voldemort’s inner circle and shooting curses at death eaters as discretely as possible until he just barely saves fred’s life and can’t take the lying anymore.

percy weasley with a dark mark on his arm, mutilated by the word traitor, etched into his skin by a fellow death eater who found him out. percy going back to the ministry, back to his friends, back to his family, and back to his snakes.

percy weasley who never gave up, only fought through, until there was nothing more to fight for but himself.