#molly is the kind of person who would use colorful expression | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

kohanayaki · 3 years ago

Text

.:Time And Time Again:. (Marauders Era x Reader) Ch 1

Old habits die hard— and so do feelings, apparently. Relive moments high and low from your life with the Marauders and co. as you tell your godson, Harry, about all the mischief you got up to back in your school days. Takes place mainly in the Marauders era but also has content congruent with the Order of the Phoenix timeline, with some cannon divergence, of course~

- Main pairings: Sirius Black x Reader, Severus Snape x Reader, James Potter x Reader, Remus Lupin x Reader, slight Regulus Black x Reader, and a bunch of friendships! Gender neutral pronouns :)

LINKS: CH 1 CH 2 CH 3 CH 4 CH 5 CH 6 CH 7 CH 8

____________________________________________________________

Ch 1 .:Memories And First Meetings:.

12 Grimmauld Place was cold.

Not in the temperature sense of the word, especially in the heat of London summer, but something about it felt distant. Perhaps it was the cookie cutter exterior, dreadfully drab, although you knew its true nature was anything but. Despite its grandeur, the interior was as ornate as it was dull and unsaturated, like a black and white photograph in all its monochromatic glory. Maybe it was the fact that you knew what had happened here in the past, or the fact that you knew who was waiting here for you in the present.

You felt the strange sensation of stepping through the thick blanket of protection charms surrounding the house, as if your body were moving through molasses for a fraction of a second. The moment you were fully inside, you began to hear the hushed bits of a conversation echoing through the entrance hall from the dining room whose door was slightly ajar. The words became clearer as you neared the door.

“Harry's not ready! Have you gone completely mad?”

You found yourself grinning at the first voice, Molly Weasley's stern tone unmistakable.

“He's not a child, Molly.”

You froze as you heard the second one; you'd know it anywhere.

A heavy wave of emotion surged through you as you got near enough to the entrance to see the face of Sirius Black through the gap in the door. His time in Azkaban had taken a toll on him, you could tell. Heavy bags hung from his face, his cheeks hollow; although his gray eyes still held that spark in them. His hair was longer, somehow even more wild and unruly than before, but it suited him.

“Well he's not an adult either! He's not James.”

You caught a flash of ginger as Molly crossed the room, using her wand to aggressively clear away the plates on the table as she made her point.

“I know he isn't, but he can handle himself,” Sirius said, “and I'll be there to protect him.”

“How touching, Black. Perhaps the boy will grow up to be a felon just like his godfather.”

Your stomach dropped at the third voice. Shit.

Your presence remained unannounced, but as you peaked your head around the corner of the door frame you were met with Severus' stoic face, an imperceptible crease of distaste in his brow as he regarded Sirius. As your view widened you saw that Lupin sat to his left, a human wall between the two former foes.

You stilled at the door, taking a deep breath in an attempt to settle your irrationally rioting nerves. It's not as if you didn't know they would be there, but it had been so long since you'd seen any of them. So much has changed. . .

“You stay out of this, Snivelus. I don't care what Dumbledore has to say about your supposed reformation, but I know better.”

“Don't you have to go play fetch elsewhere?”

“Oh come on, you two,” Remus sighed.

Well, maybe not much has changed after all.

“Still resorting to playground bickering, are we?”

Several heads snapped in your direction at your words, and you were met with various reactions. Molly's face immediately split into a smile and she rushed around to table to greet you.

“(Y/n), dear! So nice to see you again,” she pulled you into a surprisingly strong hug and you couldn't help but join in her laughter.

“It's good to be back,” you admitted, “Charlie says hello, by the way.”

“Oh, I'm going to give give that boy a talking to,” Molly huffed, “you aren't his owl, dear. The least he could do is write home and say so himself.”

“Romanian mountain ranges keep a wizard busy,” you grinned, “He says he tries to keep in touch.”

“Sending home a bag of petrified dragon scales with a note that says 'look at this!!' is hardly keeping in touch,” she retorted, fussing about with your jacket's collar that had become wrinkled from her embrace.

Even from across the table you could feel Sirius' eyes on you, grateful that you had Molly's whirlwind greeting as a scapegoat for your flushed face.

“(Y/n). . .” he said softly, getting up from his seat.

“Hey,” you smiled, fighting the lump in your throat as he wrapped his arms around you. He was so warm, still wearing that damn leather jacket he'd somehow been reunited with after his imprisonment.

“What are you doing here? They told me you were out working in America,” Sirius said, eyes twinkling as he held you at arm's length.

“Well, I suppose I'm sort of working everywhere these days,” you said. As his words registered in your brain you turned to Molly with narrowed eyes. “You didn't tell him I was coming?”

“I thought it would be a nice surprise,” she said coyly.

You shook your head, turning back to Sirius.

“I'm so sorry, Molly said I could stay here so I thought she already ran it by you—”

“No, no, of course you can stay!” he said enthusiastically, “I'm glad you're here.”

He seemed gentler than he was before, certainly more mellow than in his youth, but that energy that was so quintessentially him remained buzzing beneath his skin, and Merlin, you'd missed it.

After realizing how long the two of you had spent practically holding each other you coughed awkwardly, slowly drifting apart. As you looked around the table your eyes caught Severus' and you thought your heart stopped for a moment. To the untrained eye he probably seemed just as uninterested as ever, but the look of shock in his eyes was so blatantly apparent to you that it threw you off guard. You managed to cast a small smile in his direction, but his expression remained unchanged while yours dropped. You felt your stomach twist up in knots as you thought about what had happened the last time you saw each other.

Lupin looked between the pair of you before getting up from his own seat and coming to your rescue. He extended his arms with a kind smile, and you happily shifted your attention to him.

“It's about time London had its best auror back in town,” he said.

“Flattery will get you nowhere, Moony,” you said playfully, hugging him tight, “It's good to see you too.”

“Are you hungry?” Molly asked, pulling a chair out for you.

“Oh no, I had something on the way here,” you said, taking a seat, “thank you, though.”

It felt surreal to be back here, where it all started. The faces were different—some new, some missing—but the same determined feeling remained.

“Now, where were we,” Sirius said, his confidence returning to his shoulders as he addressed the table.

“We were just talking about how Harry isn't ready to be tangled up in all this,” Molly said sternly.

“I think he should decide that for himself,” Sirius said adamantly.

“Well of course the boy would say he wants to fight, he's—”

“Listening in right now,” you pointed out, jutting your head in the direction of the open door where Harry stood, half obscured by the shadow of the stairway.

The boy flushed, backing away slightly as he was caught. But his eyes lit up as they landed on you, and you felt a tug at your heart as you saw your best friend in their bright green hues.

“(Y/n), you're back,” he said in disbelief.

“And here to stay for a bit, apparently,” you said with a smile.

Molly looked between the two of you before letting out a sigh.

“You know what, we should stop for the night anyways,” she said with a wave of her hand, “We've kept the children up long enough with our chatter, and (Y/n) ought to get some rest as well. Off to bed, the lot of you.”

Some of the other adults exchanged some knowing smiles as she shooed them out of the room. People slowly trickled out through the doorway, goodbyes exchanged, and before long it was just you and your godson left.

You had been lucky enough to meet Harry at the end of his third year, and he'd broken the news about Sirius' innocence to you. You so badly wanted to be there for Harry sooner, but between your strained relationship with the Ministry and cleaning up the mess with MACUSA in the States, you always seemed to be called away from the boy. You wanted nothing more than to take him away from that horrid house—you knew how nasty Petunia could be firsthand. Nonetheless, he seemed to be doing well, and you were happy that you'd grown closer over the last few years even if you couldn't be there in person all the time.

“I've got another little souvenir for you, by the way,” you said, having migrated to the living room.

Harry seemed to perk up at that. Since your visits had been so sparse, you began to make it a tradition to bring him back something magical from whatever part of the world you'd been working in.

“You mentioned you were struggling in Potions the last time we spoke,” you said, rummaging through your bag, eventually producing a small, gold-rimmed vial full of a deep maroon liquid. Small black clouds seemed to tumble in a miniature cyclone inside the glass.

“Dragon's breath essence,” you grinned, “nicked it off of Charlie before I left Romania. Put a few drops of this in your salamander blood the next time you brew a Wiggenweld potion and you're set to pass with flying colors.”

“Brilliant!” Harry said, eyes wide, “that's on our O.W.L.S. this year.”

“I know,” you said cheekily, “you didn't hear it from me. Personally, I think an Outstanding in Potions as a requirement to become an auror is utter rubbish. Don't get me wrong, it's important to know your way around a cauldron, but to hold someone back who excels at Defense Against the Dark Arts and Charms just because they can't cook up a sleeping draught? I don't know, it doesn't sit right with me. And I've heard Severus is hard enough on you guys as it is.”

Harry seemed surprised at your casual address of his professor but shook it off quickly.

“But you're ace at Potions, and it seems like you really like it,” he said.

“Yeah, well I—” you faltered a bit, “I learned from the best. . .”

“Professor Slughorn, you mean?” Harry questioned.

Your eyes widened at that.

“Yeah,” you lied, recovering fast, “Well, Slughorn was a great teacher but terrible at throwing parties. He had this thing called the Slug Club and the dinners were just awful. Your mother was the first of us to join and she ended up roping me into it, and before we knew it we were all standing around in these ridiculous outfits taking swigs of the firewhiskey your dad snuck in just to get through the night.”

You smiled fondly at the memory, and you could see Harry living vicariously through the emotions on your face. You were grateful for this moment; this was the longest you'd actually gotten to sit down and talk together in a long time.

“Were you always friends?” Harry asked, “with my parents, I mean.”

You had to laugh at that question.

“With your mum, yes. Your father, well, not exactly. . .”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 1971 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Your body swayed gently with the movement of the Hogwarts Express as you walked up and down the isles, looking for someplace to sit. Most of the carriages were packed tight with large groups made up of upperclassmen not exactly looking to expand their circle.

As you approached the back of the train a mostly empty car caught your eye, occupied only by two children your age, or at least that's what you guessed from their black ties and basic robes that marked them as unsorted first-years like yourself.

One of them was a brooding looking boy with messy, shoulder length black hair and shockingly pale skin, leaning against the wall of the train and halfway through a book that seemed well beyond his years. Sitting across from him was a pretty red-headed girl who was admiring the rapidly passing scenery through the window.

“Excuse me, do you mind if I sit with you?” you asked, sliding the screen door open.

The boy's brow furrowed, clearly about refuse when the young girl beat him to it.

“Of course not!” she beamed, her smile infectious. You didn't miss the sharp look she shot over to the boy who simply rolled his eyes in response. After you muttered a small 'thanks' she scooted over closer to the window so you could sit next to her.

“My name is Lily,” she said, extending a hand, “Lily Evans.”

“Nice to meet you,” you smiled, “I'm (Y/n) (L/n).”

The boy quirked a brow at your last name, his expression shifting to something unreadable as he blatantly studied you over the spine of his book. After letting this go on for some time, you glanced over at Lily.

“Does he speak?”

“Perfectly well, thank you,” the boy said coldly.

Lily sent a disappointed look his way and his heart fell slightly, but he didn't need to be friends with anyone else, and he certainly didn't want other people becoming friends with Lily either. An irrational thought, he knew, but it was how his stubborn little brain worked at the time. They didn't need anyone but each other. Wasn't that enough?

In any case, he expected his behavior would be enough to scare you off (it usually worked on other people), but to his complete and utter surprise, you began to laugh. It started off as a light giggle, soon growing into full on laughter. He stared at you in open confusion as you were nearly brought to tears from your fit.

“You're funny,” you stated honestly, managing to speak through your chortles.

The boy was taken completely aback by your candor, actually at a loss for words. Lily joined in the laughter at your simple remark.

“So you do talk, I guess you must have a name too, then,” you said teasingly.

He blinked once. Twice.

“. . . Severus Snape.”

“That's a cool name.”

The heat that crept onto the boy's face surprised no one more than himself, and he buried himself in his book quickly to hide it. Another surprisingly frank statement from you, and not one he'd ever heard before.

If he thought you were full of surprises then, he had no idea what was coming to him.

_____________________________________________________________

The minute the Sorting Hat was placed on your head, it was immediately intrigued.

“Now here's an odd one,” it chuckled, “loyal, compassionate, empathetic, and yet a razor wit. A calculating, ambitious mind, and yet a relentless sense of adventure. All this, and with your bloodline to take into account as well. Your family has quite the history here, (L/n).”

Hushed whispers fell across the Great Hall among the older students and even some of the faculty at the hat's words, and you shifted uncomfortably in your seat.

“Though, I sense a different sort of mentality in you,” the hat continued, “you desire to challenge the old ways,” it paused for some time before going on, “do you truly have no preference, child?”

You were surprised at the question. You knew your family's reputation— it had been ingrained in you from a young age— but that didn't sway you, nor did it scare you. When you really thought about what house you wanted to be in, you truly couldn't think of an answer. It wouldn't change who you were, after all. Whether you donned red, yellow, blue, or green, you stood firmly in the knowledge that you would always be (Y/n) (L/n). Having made up your mind, you shook your head at the hat's question, and although its face was obscured from your view, you could almost sense its grin as it knew you were telling the truth.

“Well then,” it chuckled, “It is truly rare that I get an opportunity such as this. Let's make it interesting, then, shall we? Better be. . . Slytherin!”

Snape sat, slack-jawed, as you bounded over to the applauding Slytherin table and plopped down next to him. You rested your chin atop your folded hands, looking largely unbothered, a glint in your (e/c) eyes. He chuckled under his breath despite himself.

Full of surprises indeed.

___________________________________________________________

Your first encounter with James Potter was of a different sort.

It was the very beginning of your third year when you'd first met him properly. You had a few classes together, and Lily would rant about him constantly pestering her; occasionally you'd see the Gryffindor, along with another unfamiliar boy in his house, sprinting through the corridors, Professor McGonagall not far behind and demanding them to stop. But other than that, you'd never really interacted with him.

Ever since you'd met on the train you and Lily started to hang out more and more, with Snape “begrudgingly” tagging along. The Slytherin had been slow to warm up to you, but you were relentlessly kind and infuriatingly persistent, and eventually he found himself enjoying your little quips and comparatively sunny disposition. By the end of your first year, the three of you were nearly inseparable, and your bond only strengthened throughout your second. But third year is when things started changing.

Snape sat in the shade among the thick, overgrown roots of the old oak tree by the Black Lake, nose deep in an advanced Potions textbook he'd swiped from a fifth year as he waited for you and Lily to return from Transfiguration, the only class you didn't have together. This became your usual spot, with Lily sitting in the grass beside him and you on the branch above him, legs swinging as you absentmindedly sketched in your notebook. A comfortable silence would settle between you, something you'd all grown to enjoy; there was no need for constant conversation, it was enough sometimes to just enjoy each others' presence.

The silence he was reveling in alone, however, was promptly interrupted as rowdy laughter reached Snape's ears. Sure enough, a few figures emerged from the curve of the hill, revealing none other than James Potter, flanked by the curly haired boy he'd been seen running around with earlier along with two other Gryffindors: a short-statured boy with dirty blonde hair and another, taller and leaner, with long scars that ran along his face.

Snape didn't pay them much mind until he realized that they were heading straight for the tree— straight for him. Snape had noticed right away how the Potter boy had tried to befriend Lily as soon as she was sorted into Gryffindor, and it was safe to say he was less than fond of him despite having never really spoken to him before.

“You've got to be joking,” James snickered as he walked up to the tree, looking Snape up and down, “This is the guy Evans has been ditching us to see?”

Severus' eyes narrowed. So now he had a reason not to like him.

“Get lost,” he said, turning back to his book.

“What, you think you're too good to talk to us, huh?” James scoffed at him, clearly miffed.

As if on cue, the curly haired boy snatched the book out of Snape's hands, holding it out of his reach as he fumbled to get it back.

“Toss it, Sirius!” James called out. The boy, who he now knew as Sirius, threw the textbook like a frisbee, and Potter caught it easily.

As Snape angrily rose from his seat to get it back, the two boys continued to throw it between themselves so he couldn't grab it. Fed up, the Slytherin drew his wand but was quickly outmatched.

“Expelliarmus!”

Snape's wand flew out of his hands and straight into Sirius', who held it above his head. Just as the black haired boy jumped up for it, another spell flew towards him, this time from James.

“Winguardium Leviosa!”

Snape grit his teeth, staring helplessly at his wand as it hovered higher and higher out of his reach.

“James, come on, I think that's enough,” the taller boy near the back said.

“Don't be a bore, Remus, we're just having some fun.”

“I-I think he's right, guys.”

“Shut up, Peter.”

While his gaze was trained on his wand a harsh shove threw Snape to the ground, tears of frustration welling up in his eyes.

“No way, is he really crying?” James taunted.

“He is,” Sirius goaded on, “just look at him snivel.”

“You're right, maybe we should call him Snivelus, it suits him better.”

“Nice one, James.”

Snape winced as he was harshly pulled to his feet by James who sneered at him.

“Come on then, Snivelous. What are you gonna do?”

“Relashio!”

James' eyes widened as he suddenly felt himself repulsed back by some invisible force, his grip on Snape's robes forced to loosen as he was flung backwards. You stared the shocked Gryffindors down, wand at the ready for another spell as you ran to stand between Severus and them.

“Accio!” another voice called out, Snape's book and wand whizzing past their faces and into Lily's hands.

James staggered to his feet, trying to look unbothered by the fact that he'd just been knocked down, and by a spell that he hadn't even heard of yet.

“Look at that, boys,” he said, feigning confidence, “guess Snivelus needs a couple of girls to come to his rescue. You should ditch this loser, Evans.”

Before Lily could lash back, you stepped between them.

“What's that supposed to mean?” you scoffed.

“I'm sorry, who are you?”

You felt your forehead twitch, itching to smack that smug grin off his face.

It was Sirius who spoke next, recognition filling his gaze.

“Wait, you're the (L/n) kid, aren't you? Well that's just perfect, you two freaks can go study the Unforgivable Curses together.”

That struck a nerve in you.

“You don't know anything,” you said, not lowering your wand, “now get out of here before I knock you down too.”

“Aw, I don't know, Sirius, they're kind of cute all flustered like this,” James smirked.

You felt anger flare up in your chest, and it was Lily's turn to step in for you.

“Leave us alone, James,” she ordered.

When none of them moved you exhaled sharply, taking another step forward.

“Or I can just turn you into a flobberworm instead,” you said, “might be more fitting.”

Sirius laughed off your threat, but you could have sworn you saw a twinge of concern in his eyes as he looked over to the rest of his friends for backup.

“Let's just go, James. Come on,” the one named Remus said, trying to be the voice of reason.

The bespectacled boy frowned, shoving his wand back in his robes.

“Fine,” he said, “they aren't worth it anyways.”

He turned promptly on his heels, Sirius right behind him and Peter scampering after. Remus stayed behind for a moment, regarding you three.

“I'm sorry about them,” he said, “really.”

Your brow creased in suspicion, but you nodded, not quite smiling but offering up a neutral expression at least before he turned to catch up with the rest of his group.

“You were kidding about (L/n) being cute, right?” Sirius said as they headed back to the common room. When he was met with silence instead of a clear 'of course I was' he nearly had a stroke.

“Are you kidding, James?” Sirius said incredulously, “They're a Slytherin! They're just another dark arts dabbler who doesn't care about anything but their blood status.”

James only shrugged.

“Normally I'd agree, but they seem different,” he said. When he turned to see Sirius' unwavering expression he sighed, “I was just saying that to get a rise out of 'em. Don't worry, this won't be the last time we mess with them and Snivelus.”

Meanwhile, you were still out sitting by the tree, brushing the grass out of Severus' hair.

“That was amazing, (Y/n),” Lily said, wide-eyed, “How did you manage to learn that spell? And you already learned the worm-morphing jinx too?”

“Sev isn't the only one who's been learning ahead,” you said, “but that worm thing was a total bluff.”

“I didn't need your help,” Snape muttered.

You blinked down at him, shaking your head and unable to fight the smirk that crept onto your face.

“Sure you didn't,” you huffed, helping him up to his feet despite his protests, “don't be so dramatic, we won't tell anyone if that's what you're so worried about. Now come on, we're gonna be late for dinner. If Wilkes hogs all the Yorkshire puddings I'm blaming you entirely.”

Severus said nothing, only taking his book and wand back from Lily before you three walked back to the castle arm in arm, the smallest hint of a smile playing on his lips.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“It seems like so long ago,” you said, reminiscing, “Although I suppose it was, but I don't want to think about that too hard— I'll start to feel old, Merlin forbid.”

Harry's eyes were full of disbelief at your story.

“So you, my mum, and. . . Snape were friends?”

“Believe it or not,” you grinned, “unlikely trio as we were, it just sort of worked somehow.”

Until it didn't, you thought grimly, but forced the thought aside. You could tell by how quiet Harry had gotten that something was bothering him.

“My dad really did that?” he asked quietly.

Your gaze softened and you turned to fully face him.

“He was dumb and immature at the time,” you said, “we all were. There's not much else to be when you're thirteen. Each of us made plenty of mistakes, too many to count. And your mum. . . she was good for him. He always told me that she made him want to be a better person. People can change. In my opinion, there are few things someone can do that makes them truly irredeemable, and your father never came close to doing any of those things.”

You thought it better to mention that Snape probably didn't feel the same way.

“In any case, we should be getting to bed,” you said, getting up from the couch, “if you ever want to hear any other stories about your parents, I've got plenty of them.”

“Yeah,” Harry said, smile brightening his whole face, “yeah, definitely. Thank you.”

As Harry walked off to his room you sighed, making your way as quietly as you could up the creaky stairs. Just as you were about to retreat into your own guest room, your eyes snagged on the slightly ajar door at the top of the stairwell.

You stalled in front of it for a moment, wondering if you were out of your mind or not. When you had unapologetically settled on 'yes', you moved to knock on the door when it suddenly swung open. You practically leaped back at the proximity as you were met with Sirius standing in the doorway, stormy eyes wide. He'd shed his leather jacket for the night, leaving him in a dark maroon button up with the top few undone. Your senses were draped with the heady scent of his cologne, and you found yourself grasping at words to say.

When Sirius got over his initial shock he laughed sheepishly, running a hand through his curls out of habit.

“I was about to see if you were awake,” he admitted with a small grin, “Seems we both had the same idea.”

Read chapter 2 here !

#harry potter #the marauders #marauders x reader #sirius black x reader #james potter x reader #remus lupin x reader #regulus black x reader #sirius black #james potter #remus lupin #regulus black #harry potter x reader #marauders era #severus snape #snape x reader #severus snape x reader #multi chapter #harry potter fanfiction #marauders fanfiction

335 notes · View notes

dennou-translations · 4 years ago

Photo

Violet Evergarden Booklet 1

Please feel free to message me about possible corrections. If you can, consider supporting the creators by purchasing the official releases. In case anyone is feeling generous: Ko-fi | PayPal. ( ╹◡╹)っ’･*

Index || Next →

That day was a special one for me, but to the rest of the world, this was not the case.

Ann Magnolia and Her Nineteenth Birthday

There was a number of things I had to do on the special day called today.

I would wake up in the morning and check the weather. As if a tale were beginning, I would turn the curtains over and look outside the window.

The radiant daylight shone on my eyes. Today was sunny. Knowing that made me happy. That I had woken up enveloped in sunshine. That I didn’t have to worry about my letter getting drenched in rain. It was almost as if the truth of these facts was blessing the day.

——I’m happy.

Very happy.

I didn’t usually say this, but I felt like saying it today, so I whispered as I laid back down, “Good morning.”

Husky with wake, my voice echoed through the quiet bedroom. I wandered around in search for someone to have a conversation with from the words “good morning”. However, I couldn’t find anyone to hear them, so they pointlessly vanished somewhere.

If you were just by yourself, words would die as soon as they were born. I knew that as the truth of this world. Like flowers that withered without changing colors, like small birds that couldn’t endure the coldness of midwinter, my words would promptly die. After all, words were tools for people to communicate their intentions. So if there was no other party, they would all but die. That was evident.

There was no one who would reply to me with a “good morning”. There was no one in this house that would do a morning greeting, so if anyone were to say that this much was obvious, it sure was. But in my memories, someone whose voice I had already forgotten would return my words. In a warm and soft voice that was probably how my mother sounded, they would be returned to me.

“Good morning, Ann.”

——Good morning.

“Today is a special day, huh.”

——I know; I’d been counting them with my fingers.

“Your long-awaited birthday.”

With a nod, I stood up.

Today, I was turning nineteen. Twelve years had passed since I had been left all by myself when I was seven years old. I reflected thoroughly upon that reality alone and proudly.

I left my bedroom still wearing a negligee, heading to the spiral staircase. There were portraits hanging in rows from the staircase’s wall.

“My, you’re going outside dressed like this just because you’re at home?”

Decorated with pictures of family members, the wall used to be terrifying for me when I was a child, but it became less so after my mother was added to them. I would go up and down those stairs countless times every day, but the only spot that I would end up directing my gaze to for a few seconds was the portrait of my mother and my childhood self.

If, by any chance, there was strength to the thing called “love”, I thought, if there was a force residing within love, wouldn’t this image start moving one day, since it was the only one I looked at as if I were yearning for something?

I would end up embracing such fantasies.

“I won’t change, no matter how much you stare at me. By the way, doesn’t my complexion look a little bad in this portrait? I should have had more paint put over it.”

Of course, it was just a fabrication.

Having come down the stairs, I went to the front entrance, its door a little worn-out. I should call a repairer. The house was a living being just like me, and since it was already quite old, it was always broken somewhere.

“I also want you to tend to the garden. When was the last time you held a broom?”

As I came outside, I could see this place’s whole scenery. There was nothing but lush grassland and tree-lined roads. The idyllic sight was awfully boring, but above that, it was beautiful, so if you made a frame with your fingers, you would immediately have a scenic picture. In this entire area, there were no other houses in sight. Of course. This territory was under the control of the Magnolias, hence this view belonged to me, the family head.

As long as I didn’t sell or give it away, this landscape would never change. And, same as the previous family heads, I didn’t wish for it to change. Neither did I wish to leave this place. Even if I was all by myself.

“Ann, let’s take a look inside the mailbox.”

I took a look inside the mailbox. Perhaps because it was still early in the morning, there was nothing in it yet.

“It’ll surely be coming soon.”

Today was the day when I, Ann Magnolia, was born. Every year on my birthday, I would get letters from my late mother. Letters from my mother, who by now had become a portrait, would be delivered to me.

“There is no such thing as a letter that needn’t be delivered, Milady.”

To be precise, letters with my mother’s feelings blown into them and ghostwritten by an Auto-Memories Doll would be delivered to me. It was a strange story, but a true one.

“Auto-Memories Doll”. Long had passed ever since this name caused a stir.

The creator was an authority in the field of mechanical dolls, Professor Orlando. His wife, Molly, was a novelist, and all had begun with the posterior loss of her eyesight. He then invented a machine to perform ghostwriting for his beloved wife and named it Auto-Memories Doll. Nowadays, people who worked as ghostwriters were also called Auto-Memories Dolls.

When I was seven, my mother, who was plagued with a serious illness, summoned a beautiful blue-eyed Auto-Memories Doll to our manor. She made her write several letters and hired a postal company to deliver them to me even after her death. She had been secretly planning out a few decades worth of birthday messages for her beloved daughter.

The person who had made this request was an oddball, but the ones who had accepted the job were quite odd themselves. Had they not imagined that someone would abandon it at some point? Had they sealed the contract for such a heavy, troublesome work without any refusal because they were horribly bad at their business, or was it because they were too nice? Having grown into a creditable lady and come to understand the world to a certain extent, I would ponder about such things. Surely, it was because they were nice. Thanks to them, even though I didn’t have a single relative now, at least on my birthday I could recall what being loved by someone felt like.

Just like that, I stood fidgety in front of the mailbox. Closing my eyes, I cleared off the dust on the box of my memories.

——I remember. That she had come around. That she would be over there, quietly writing letters. I remember the figure of that person and of my smiling mother. Surely, until I died...

That few-days’ time had been seared into my mind. Back then, my... Back then, Ann Magnolia’s frizzy hair was still short, and she was selfish and pretended to be taller. She was a helpless child. A very young one. How old she was? Seven years old. An age where one would still long for their mother. Her mother was the center of the world. If her mother died, she wouldn’t even be able to breathe. She was that kind of child. She was aware that her emotions were unstable and that she tended to act a little rashly.

Most people would treat someone like me nicely, and that was it. People who had their eyes on my fortune attempted to get close to me, but once they noticed that I had no intention to let them do so, they never showed their faces to me again.

That person—that person... Violet Evergarden. That Auto-Memories Doll was a bit different from other people, I thought...

Whenever I wondered what was so different about her, I would find myself thinking.

Back then, Ann Magnolia had fallen in love with a mysterious girl who had come around all of a sudden. It was a little girl’s romantic love out of adoration. She both hated and liked the Auto-Memories Doll who had come around out of the blue and stolen her time with her mother.

——What was it that I liked about her?

She was a taciturn and unsociable. A silent porcelain doll. She seemed extremely adult-like. But looking back, she often reacted like a child who knew nothing. Even when I gave her dolls, she didn’t know how to play. Neither did she have any knowledge of how to solve riddles. Even when I made her touch bugs, she never ran away like my mother or our maid. Whenever I invited her to join hands and spin around, we would do it to no end.

“Fufu...”

She was a weird person. Yes, a weird one.

Children would look at adults and measure them by whether they were scary or foolish, would be their allies or enemies, would give them candy or not, and other such things. They would stare very, very fixatedly and judge the grown-ups.

She... that beautiful Auto-Memories Doll... Violet Evergarden was not an adult.

——Yes, she was... how should I put it? She was Violet Evergarden.

Which was why I had snuggled up to her, the same type of person as myself, just like two cats nestling close to each other, I thought.

She was a beautiful child. A beautiful beast. I found her eccentric self to be cool, so I liked her.

Where was she now and what was she doing, I wondered.

I was turning nineteen, but back in the day, she must have been younger than I am now. For her to have prosthetic arms, it wasn’t hard to imagine what had happened to her at the time, when the war had just ended. But surely, there was no doubt that her life had been full of many more ups and downs than the story I had in mind.

Did she not express her emotions enough because she was carrying some sort of wound in her heart? She was such a beautiful person, so she must have won over the heart of some wonderful person by now...

I shook my head left and right. I mustn’t have unjust suspicions of her. I shouldn’t prod into how I was back then – into the Ann Magnolia of back then – and taint it. Even if it was just me with myself, I mustn’t do that. Because all of the joys and sorrows from that time belonged to the old me, who had endured those days. Having become an adult, I shouldn’t have any say over the mental landscape of my old self, as a third party.

Having grown up, I observed my own land, which spread out endlessly. The scent of gently swaying grass and flowers, the chattering of birds, the clouds that moved slowly in the blue sky. It felt like they would be here just like that for a hundred more years.

“It’s not coming, huh. Let’s go eat breakfast.”

Since the postman wasn’t showing up, I had no choice but go back into the manor.

I had been working at home lately. I used to go outside and enjoy the world when I was a student, but I realized that, in the end, I liked being in my house. Maybe this was a Magnolia bloodline thing.

As for my from-home job, I worked with legal counseling. When I was little, I had experienced disputes amongst my own relatives over me and my assets. That was the reason why, if I had to give any.

My mother had left me with a talented legal advisor. A person of outstanding character, who still concerned himself with me even now. As a young child, I excelled at catching insects that I had never seen before, but I didn’t have the means to oppose to the people who wanted to steal this land from me one way or another.

I had started off working at the city’s legal information center, introduced to me by the legal advisor, who had taken me in, and only recently had I become independent. Living in the city had made me realize many things. That there were many people in this world who weren’t protected like me. And that this wasn’t something those people themselves wanted, but things had turned out in such a way due to the environment they were in.

The ascension of the ghostwriting business had a similar background. Children would be made to work like adults, unable to go to school, so when they grew up and had to sign any documents, they couldn’t even write their own names.

People like that, who had been raised in environments where no one helped them, weren’t a rarity. I had heard that the literacy rate was currently rising, but it would still take a long time for this to become something unusual.

Just like with ghostwriting, one could become somebody’s ally through the law. It was especially necessary for children who had been thrown out like me and younglings who were about to enter the world of adults, I believed. Because they could earn completely different futures as a result if they acquired knowledge.

“The law is a weapon,” my legal advisor would say. I agreed with that. My property had been protected by this weapon many times. Some people would say that education was the weapon, but the situations for putting it to use were too limited. Weapons exerted their true value exactly when you had to protect yourself from falling victim to unjust acts or insults.

If possible, I wanted to be someone who could protect others. I wanted to tell people who didn’t know what to do and had become incapable of even walking on their own, “It’s all right; I’ll be your ally”. Because I wanted someone to do that for me back when I was alone.

My reason for choosing law was rooted in this kind of self-righteous way of thinking.

Since I worked from home, I didn’t earn much. To be honest, people would think that being a professional was a pastime for a landowning wealthy lady. I was fine with that.

The people who came to visit me in this remote place were generally in critical situations and had nothing. Those who had something would go to the city. They would go to the city, bow their heads to some famous person, be served a fine brand of tea... and have a graceful conversation while drinking it.

If I could, I wanted to get close to people, just like her. Just like the Auto-Memories Doll who had told me on that day that it was okay to cry. Even if for self-satisfaction.

Speaking of which, I thought as I checked the calendar. Today was my birthday, so I intended to wait for the postman the whole day and hadn’t scheduled any appointments, but a client was coming tomorrow. I should clean up the reception room at least a little.

“Hey, Ann. It is your birthday, so how about going outside with your friends and having a meal with them?”

I had to sweep the floor, take the garbage off the carpet and dust the dirt on the furniture.

“Even just eating something tasty is enough, Ann.”

Right, I should bake some sweets to serve to the costumer tomorrow. It could also be used as celebration for my birthday.

“Ann, aren’t you lonely all by yourself?”

If I was certain, that person had eaten the sweets I baked when we first met with relish. He had a sweet tooth.

As I recalled the figure of that young entrepreneur eating, looking embarrassed and delighted, a smile surfaced naturally. Out of the people that I was currently engaging with, he might be the one whose visit I looked forward to the most. I did think that men were frowny and sullen creatures, but he was adorable.

I rolled up my sleeves with an “all right” and headed to the kitchen.

“Delivery.”

As the front door’s bell rang and the voice of a visitor ensued, I frantically flung away my bowl and whisk and ran. This is what happens when you distractedly make sweets for about an hour. I was covered in flour and looking unbecoming, but there was no helping it.

“Yes, I’m coming.”

I opened the door in high spirits, and standing there was a postman wearing the uniform of the city’s post office, which I was familiar with. I was disappointed enough that even I myself would think it was a bit childish of me. The other didn’t see my facial expression as he requested my signature for the express delivery without looking at me, but I wound up having an impolite attitude.

——It wasn’t the CH Postal Company.

My mother’s birthday messages were being kept by the CH Postal Company, a mail company that had its main office located in Leiden – the capital of Leidenschaftlich, a southernmost military nation. Therefore, if a different company had come, then the mail wasn’t from my mother.

“Thank you very much.”

I had received three packages. One was a table clock from my legal advisor. The others were accessories and a shawl that were trending in the city from my friends.

There were people getting married and having children upon turning nineteen. All of my closest friends had been quick to marry. Both my opinion that secluding themselves in their homes was a waste in this era of professional women and my envy at the fact that they had found themselves a partner in an early stage of their lives coexisted in the depths of my mind.

“You don’t have to hurry; if you don’t want to do it, you don’t have to.”

Having lost my mother, with this vast land and this manor of excessively elegant exterior in my possession... I couldn’t think that having a family wouldn’t be a good thing.

——Family... family... family, huh?

Did I want a family? Did I really? Those genuine questions surfaced in my mind first-thing.

Welcoming a family would mean welcoming that person’s life. It was an extremely heavy choice. “In health and sickness,” people would lightheartedly say. I believed there were actually few people who properly understood it.

My friends who had married. The people who walked around the city. Lovers and family members from all over the world – everyone. Did they all truly understand? They only looked on the happy side, so could they endure it when a sad scenario arrived upon them? Wouldn’t they end up thinking that not loving the other person would have been better?

“Human beings are creatures that love others in pursuit of happiness, Ann.”

In my experience, since I had seen off the person who was most important to me, the truth was that I didn’t want to go through it ever again. Being told to do it one more time was too hard. Even twenty years later, painful things would be painful.

I brought my consciousness back to reality.

Colorful ribbons, extravagant wrappings and wonderful gifts. As my social disposition was coming to a slight halt, those people were irreplaceable to me. I had to write thank-you notes right away. For these kinds of things, the faster, the better. Because it conveyed sincerity.

I should go back to my bedroom and look for the stationery and envelopes. They were surely somewhere there.

“Ann.”

——Aah, but was it a pretty stationery?

Maybe I should choose a different one, fitting of these wonderful presents.

“Ann, listen.”

They were surely items that took a while to be picked, so I should respond to the other party’s feelings the same way. There were many things to be watchful of here. I had to do it quick. I had to do it soon.

“Please listen.”

Nobody else was going to do it; I was the one who had to. No matter what, I had to do it. I had to taste joy and sadness all by myself and end it fast. Because I was alone. Hurry. I had to hurry and do it.

Nevertheless, I couldn’t move.

“Ann.”

I was in the middle of making sweets, and writing thank-you notes required some preparation. Above all, I couldn’t calm down until my mother’s letter arrived.

Giving several reasons, I made up several excuses not to move.

“Ann... it’s okay.”

I suddenly felt exhausted. Everything became a bother. Even though hands were covered in flour and I was still wearing an apron, I lay on the couch, rolled into fetal position and scrunched down.

Although I had received such marvelous gifts, the feeling of happiness didn’t last. Even though it was something to be grateful for to the point I could be in a good mood the whole day, the feeling of happiness didn’t last. It didn’t last.

“Ann, it’s okay.”

Today was that kind of day.

“Ann, don’t force yourself; I’m sorry.”

——I’m sorry.

“Sorry...”

——I’m sorry.

“Ann, I’m sorry...”

To me, my birthday was...

“...for leaving you behind when you were so small.”

...not my day. It was my mother’s.

——Mom. Why? Just why? Why, Mom? Why did you die sooner than the mothers of the other kids? What is it that went wrong? Did the fact that I was born itself become a burden to you? If so, then I shouldn’t have been born.

I loved you, Mom. Did you know that? I liked you a whole, whole lot. Tired of hearing this? But you didn’t know it, right? Even if you knew, you probably didn’t understand how much I liked you. I’m sure you had no idea how much.

When I realized it, I had more time seeing you in a grave than otherwise. But you’re everywhere in our house. On the sofa that you often sat on. In the music that you enjoyed. On the bed that still smells like you. In myself, who resembles you more and more with each day.

Mom, Mom, Mom – you keep reminding me of how much I loved you. When I was little, you were the world itself.

Mom. You loved me. I know that. But I loved you too. I was the one who... I was... I was... I was the one who...

Aah, Mom. Mom, there are so many things I want to tell you. But if I can say it, there’s just one thing.

Mom, you died without knowing how much I loved you, right?

I loved you much more than you could’ve imagined. I really, really suffered when you died. Enough that I couldn’t breathe.

People often say that time heals all wounds. But I really hate that saying. Rather than things being solved, we forget about them, don’t we? People’s voices, facial expressions, gestures – we forget these kinds of things. Yet I remember them in unexpected times. Like, “Oh, yeah, Mom used to like this”. “Oh, yeah, Mom used to hate that”. And then I blame myself vehemently for forgetting them. Like, “How could you have forgotten? She was your whole world”. Like, “How could you have forgotten? She was your only family”. The loop of agony has no end.

I adored you, Mom. I loved you. I loved you, so for just as much love as I had for you, it feels like my heart will break. It feels like my heart will break every time my birthday comes around. Feels like it will break. It’s painful and there’s no helping it.

Tears slip down my cheeks as I laid on my side. I was looking forward to today so much that I didn’t know what to do with myself, and yet I wound up crying again this year. I would’ve been great if I could welcome it with a smile.

A birthday was a special day.

It was nothing to the rest of the world, just an ordinary day, but it was a special one for me. Because... Because it was a day when I could feel Mom coming back to me. I looked forward to it so much that I couldn’t help myself, but at the same time, I was also helplessly sad. Because I felt my mother’s absence more than anything. Because the truth that she wasn’t here was thrust onto me.

Destiny spoke to me. Either that or God did. “Hey, your mother’s already dead. How long you gonna be crying? Stand up. If you’re alive, stand up.”

Since the world was so merciless, all I could do was nod at those words and say, “Yes, yes, true.”

By entrusting my body to hecticness, I was able to remain as someone who could stand on her own feet, just like Destiny and God wanted. I normally didn’t feel loneliness. I didn’t cry. After all, twelve years had already passed. It was weird to cry like this on and on forever. It was weird, right? I wasn’t a kid anymore. I shouldn’t cry too much. That would make me a bad girl. A girl wasn’t suitable to be the family head of the Magnolia household. I had to become a person who my mother could be proud of from within that portrait.

Wasn’t that right? I couldn’t prove the worth of my existence by doing anything else.

But on this day when I was aware that my mother loved me, I was no good. No good. I’d turn into a mess. The seven-year-old Ann Magnolia would come back to me. She’d say it all. She’d end up saying it. Always, always, always. She’d say what I was holding back from saying.

“I’m lonely”, that is.

I had as many ways of spending my birthday as I had birthdays. Surely, there were millions of people in the world whose birthday was today. How were all of them spending it? Were they spending it in a fulfilling way? There definitely were also people who lived their lives either not knowing when their birthday was or forgetting about it.

So I wasn’t miserable. Nor was I comparing myself with them. That wasn’t it. Because there were certainly people somewhere around the world who were feeling as lonely as me.

There was another thing that I had learned during the time I worked in the city. That loneliness wasn’t something only I had. Many people would come to the law firm and ask for advice regarding their troubles. Everyone was burdened with problems of their own. And everyone was a bit lonely in some aspect. It wasn’t just me, so I didn’t feel lonely.

That person too, and that one, and that other one. Everybody was sad in one way or another.

“I have to get up.”

I had stopped doing what I would do by accident – stopped throwing myself into a sea of sadness. The sea of sadness in my head was a real nuisance, yet it was also comfortable as it enveloped my body in gentle waves of self-pity. But I shouldn’t go too far. Or else I wouldn’t be able to stand up again. It wasn’t like food and sweets would materialize from my sadness.

I counted the things I had to do. Bake sweets. Clean up. I had a number of torn aprons, which I would remake into rags. And then... And then...

“Madam Magnolia, are you home?”

A real-life happening immediately pulled me out of my reverie. I ran toward the front door, from where the voice had come. As I opened the door with much vigor while making extremely improper heavy-feet noises, I found two visitors.

“Hum?”

One of them was... Aah, I was waiting for you. It was a postman wearing the CH Postal Company uniform. He was holding under his arm a letter and a package with what was most likely the gift that my mother had arranged for today.

“Aah, excuse me. Please go first.”

The other was the customer who had made an appointment reservation for tomorrow. A stray young entrepreneur. His finely tailored clothes were easy to recognize as something not order-made and that he didn’t like but was wearing regardless.

Had he mistaken the appointment day?

“Erm, then...”

The two had bumped onto each other at the front gate and both had some business with me, so they were probably conceding the turn to one another. Having been granted it, the CH Postal Company’s postman stood before me, politely giving me the letter and present with a slightly tensed-up countenance.

“This is the CH Postal Company. I have come to bring your delivery... You might be already tired of hearing this vocal message so many times, but happy birthday this year too, Madam Magnolia.”

That was a postman I had never seen before. It was a different person from last year.

“T-Tired, you say... There’s no way I would ever be.”

Still, the fact he was saying these lines meant that the demands commissioned by my mother were being properly kept and protected by that company. That was it.

“Thank you very much. For every year, truly... truly. Please tell this to your chairman too.”

“Y-Yes! Our president is the kind of person that gets very happy at inputs from the clients, so I’ll make sure to tell him!”

I had never met the president of the CH Postal Company, but for someone so young to be talking about him in such a familiar-sounding way, he had to be a wonderful person.

“I’m taking it.”

I signed the acceptance document. The postman laughed as if relieved. Also relieved, I finally looked seriously at him. He was a very young postman. Perhaps from about the same generation as me. The freckled boy looked even younger when laughing.

“I became in charge of it this year. It’s a big area, so I ended up getting a bit lost... I made you wait a lot, didn’t I?”

“Eh, no, no.”

“But you came running as if you were eagerly waiting for it.”

“Yes.”

Recalling the surprised faces of the two young men the moment I had opened the door, I trembled with shame. I was supposed to behave elegant and beautifully as the head of the Magnolia family. Yet I was covered in flour, my hair was disheveled because I had been lying down and I had showed up with footsteps that sounded like the ones of a large man.

Touching my cheeks, which were most likely growing red, I said, “I apologize for showing you an embarrassing sight... No matter what, I always wind up restless on this day.”

“Absolutely not. I’m the one who is sorry for coming late. I have already perfectly memorized the way, so please treat me well next year too.” The postman bowed with a “well, then” and ran toward a parked motorcycle.

After seeing him off, I directed my gaze at the other visitor that had been waiting for me. He, too, slowly looked my way.

“Hello.”

The morning sunshine had disappeared, a dazzling midday light filling up for it. It seemed that quite some time had passed while I was sulking on the couch. With a season of fresh green colors as the background, he was supposed to be a foreign body for me... and for this world of mine, yet he blended appallingly well into it.

“Hello.” My voice sounded a little shrill. “Isn’t there any flour on my face?” As I said this while rubbing my cheeks with the sleeve of my dress, he took a handkerchief from his jacket and handed it to me.

Not minding me as I stiffened up in shock, he said with an earnest attitude, “There is, right here.”

“Ah, all right.”

“And here too.”

“I’m sorry. I was making sweets...”

Wiping myself with the neatly folded handkerchief, it almost seemed like I had gone back to being a child. It was the second time today that my cheeks were dyed red.

“Well, what is your matter...?”

“Aah, that’s right. I was nearby and... hum, I heard from Mr. Robert, the one who introduced you to me, that it was your birthday today, so... though it’s presumptuous of me, I was thinking about celebrating it...”

Robert was the law advisor who had been protecting me since my childhood. Now that he had mentioned it, I remembered that he was introduced to me by Robert. The budget wasn’t compatible with the case, so it had been passed over to me.

——“Nearby”?

Finding a strange point in a part of his story, I said timidly, “This whole area... is my land... You had business near here?”

Silence.

“You’re also seeing Mr. Robert even though you’re working with me...?”

He raised a hand my way as if to ask me to wait and averted his face, looking embarrassed. Had I said anything bad?

“I take it back.”

“All right.”

“I lied... I wanted, hum, to spend time with you somehow...”

“Haah...”

Perhaps having become unable to look at me in the eyes, he kept his face turned away and continued speaking to the direction of the day after tomorrow, “Mr. Robert is a teatime friend from a café that I already frequented... He introduced you to me as a favor... And I heard from him the other day that today was your birthday. Also, I did not just happen to come nearby. It’s impossible to come here without a car or carriage. I do not have much money, so I ended up walking the way here. But it was no coincidence; I came here because I had an objective.”

As I asked, “What’s the objective”, he turned over the palm that had been telling me to wait and showed it to me. That “it’s you”.

I was perplexed. This kind of thing hadn’t happened in my life very often. When it did, it was usually people aiming for my fortune, so I vaguely wondered if he was the same as them.

“Want to come in? If it’s just drinking tea together, then...”

In any case, as the head of the Magnolia family, I had to entertain the guest. After this thought worked its way to me, an alarm sounded in my head that he might deem this as an invitation. That wasn’t my intention, so what should I do if he believed it was?

——What’s up with me? I don’t know if I’m happy or scared.

Aah, my heartbeats were so loud. My cheeks were so hot it felt like they were burning.

——Anyway, I have to say something.

“Hum.”

As I hesitated to speak, he shook his head. “Ah, no. I will have to come again tomorrow, so I’m going home. I have already accomplished my objective.”

“Is that so?” I was a tad out of tune. A little – very relieved.

I observed him while he didn’t try to look at me even a bit. His hands were trembling. Even though he gave off an easygoing impression, he was the type of person who couldn’t hide what was inside.

“I really just came here because I wanted to wish you happy birthday. Just before coming, I hesitated a lot on whether to go today or not... I also don’t have... any presents worthy of a lady like you, so I wanted to at least say these words.”

That sentence surprised my already stunned self even more. “At least these words”, he said. Were there any words that could make his goodwill more obvious?

“I’m sorry. I should have at least arranged something for you, right? Really, a broke man like me showing up out of nowhere... I’m sorry...”

“No, I don’t want material things that much... I prefer this feeling of... wanting to celebrate because it’s my birthday... much more...”

The words cut off midway. What happened to me? Right now, pain and joy were squeezing my chest tightly. It was suffocating.

The easily perceivable love of this person in front of me, as well as his kindness, his sincerity and all these other soft and warm things were appearing in the lonely parts of me and causing me to feel dizzy.

“Ann, can you hear me?”

I had to regain my sanity; I would surely be sober again tomorrow. I shouldn’t open my heart so easily now.

“Ann, please, listen.”

Because the world was cruel. Even if I fell in love with him, sad things were bound to happen.

“Okay? If you’re listening...”

It might be a calculated love; he could just be pretending and was actually a horrible person.

No, I had to wonder about that. It was indeed true that he came the way here on foot. After all, his shoes were dirty with mud. There was grass sticking to it as if he gone through an animal trail.

“If you’re listening, grab onto it.”

Aah, Mom. From now on, I would surely keep questioning you over and over during times like these. Asking you questions in my mind. “Mom, is this correct? Is this the right path,” I would ask. Because you were the only one who had given me love without second intentions. So please, give me an answer.

“Believe in yourself, Ann. Don’t be afraid of love.”

I was sure that the vision of my mother had whispered this to me.

I reached out with my hand. I reached out and grabbed the hem of his jacket.

“I’m going to bake sweets now. Today is my birthday, but I don’t have any plans, so if you’d like, why don’t we eat the baked sweets together outside? I don’t need anything. If you’re going to give me something, then I want just a bit of time for us to celebrate my birthday together,” I told him.

“Thanks.” He was not unkind to my wheat flour-covered hand, grasping it while his face went bright red. “That’d be great,” he said three or so times. The phrase “I like sweet foods” was probably said five times.

I... I found it so funny that I laughed.

That day was a special one for me, but to the rest of the world, this was not the case. But I put in a little effort. I tried making it special on my own. From this point onward, I would definitely keep doing that. I would. I was all alone in this manor. But I was the most special girl in the world to a certain person. It was okay to indulge myself at least on my birthday. I thought this once again reading my mother’s letter later.

Ann, congratulations on your nineteenth birthday. I can’t imagine how you’re doing at nineteen years of age. I really wonder how you’re doing. Are you well? Aren’t you going hungry? I wonder if you became a wonderful lady. Aah, I want to see it. I truly wanted to see it. You have no idea how much I love you, do you? You see, Mom loves the nineteen-year-old you. I’ll love you even as you turn a hundred years old. I can’t tell you face-to-face, so I’m properly writing it here. I love you. No matter what anyone says, I love you. You have the right to be loved. My Ann, be free. My Ann, laugh with joy. My Ann, be happy. My Ann. Don’t be afraid of love.

—From Mom

“There’s no such thing as a letter that needn’t be delivered, Milady.”

#violet evergarden #veedit #fyeahvioletevergarden #kyoani #kyoto animation #ann magnolia #clara magnolia #akatsuki kana #takase akiko #novel #my translation #violet evergarden booklet

332 notes · View notes

ayanna-wild · 4 years ago

Text

Because You're Beautiful

Word Count: 1264

Pairings: Lucifer Morningstar x Plus size Reader

Warnings: fluff, angst, possible trigger

A/N: Request from Wattpad, nearly all of my stories are made to fit pretty much anyone's body type and or ethnicity, as I try to keep the reader's description as vague as possible, however if you'd like to directly address a certain aspect, like this story, feel free to ask!

“Loving your body is about being comfortable in your body, and only you get to set the parameters of that. Only you get to decide what that looks like, and only you know where the finish line is. Never let anyone make you feel ashamed about what you decide, or don't decide, to put on your body.” — Brittany Gibbons

Summary: You hadn’t really wanted to go to Lux, to a crowded club, with so many people. But Lucifer had looked so hopeful when he asked you to come, and you never could say no to him. When the night quickly turns sour though, your loving devil is there to remind you just how much he truly loves you.

.................................................................................

You stared at yourself in the mirror, dawned in the nicest dress you owed. Well truthfully the dress you had bought just for this occasion. You shifted nervously as you begun to second guess yourself the longer you stared.

Was this dress the right color for you?

Was it the right style? The right length?

So many doubts began to cloud your mind. You were thicker than most girls and although you were happy with yourself, your insecurities still reared their ugly head from time to time. The abrupt knocking on your door silenced your runaway thoughts. You took one last dissatisfied look before moving to answer it. The familiar smile of the handsome man on the other side quieted your insecurities just a little and you smiled back, albeit rather stiffly.

"My darling you look stunning! Is that a new dress? I haven't seen it before." He smiled approvingly as his eyes roamed over your figure.

You shifted from one foot to the other under his intense gaze.

"I just bought it actually, I figured I should look nice for tonight."

Tonight being the first night you'd agreed to accompany Lucifer to such a crowded place. The first night you allowed him to proudly show you off as his girlfriend. You were normally more reserved in your relationship with Lucifer. You'd seldom agree to go anywhere too many people would see. You had told him it was simply because you were shy but in truth you felt almost ashamed. The women Lucifer used to date were stunning, perfectly sculpted, and much, much different from you.

So, despite your anxiety, your insecurities, your fears, you'd agreed to come out with him tonight. Agreed because he'd asked you so sweetly, agreed because he'd been so eager to show you off.

You, his beautiful girlfriend, as he put it.

And him, the gorgeous man, far out of your league.

"Well I think it’s beautiful on you, shall we?"

Lucifer held his arm out and you wrapped your arm around his. His smile was almost blinding, and he led you to his car, beaming in pride.

The ride to Lux was mostly quiet, at least from your end, Lucifer however had no problem chatting away. Even if it was more of a one-sided conversation. You caught every other word he said, mostly trying to psych yourself up for the evening ahead.

When the two of you had finally arrived you were a puddle of anxiety and stress. He must have sensed your internal dismay and gently placed a hand on your thigh, his smile encouraging and his eyes filled with worry.

"You'll be fine my dear, and if it gets to be too much, we can always sneak out." He winked.

You let out a breathy laugh, a bit more at ease and you nodded. Lucifer leaned over, kissing your forehead.

"My beautiful love." He murmured.

The night although a bit stressful was going wonderfully, you were actually having fun. Lucifer was showing you off to anyone he could, a proud and somewhat smug look on his face the whole time. His introductions often started with 'my beautiful' or 'my lovely' and once even 'my goddess', you'd elbowed him for that one. Lucifer's affection for you made you feel like you were on cloud nine and your worries melted away.

Until he left you alone to refill your drinks.

You'd been standing at a table, glancing around at all the people when a woman approached you. She had silky black hair, and porcelain skin and her dress clung to her slim figure in the most flattering way. Her expression held no kindness and you frowned a little.

"You're Lucifer's girlfriend?"

It was a seemingly innocent question but the way she'd said it, with such distaste and disbelief, made it clear what she really thought.

"Yes..."

You really wished your voice hadn't come out so quiet.

"Why?"

She looked you up and down, a disapproving frown on her face.

"Look at you."

Her words stung and you visibly flinched as if she'd slapped you.

"He's just..."

"Is this a sort of pity date? Is he doing you a favor?"

Her questions made you feel small, so insignificant.

"I'm sorry but who are you?"

You tried to sound indifferent but your voice faded off.

"Lucifer and I used to hook up now and then, he broke off our arrangement whenever he started dating though. I just didn't know it was for someone like you. You're not nearly as skinny as the girl's he usually goes for."

She curled her lip in disgust and you cast your eyes downward, suddenly ashamed and fighting back tears.

"You don't belong with someone like him. Look at you! You'll only weigh him down." She smiled cruelly pushing past you.

You stumbled back when she intentionally bumped her shoulder into yours. A hand on your back steadied you and you watched as the woman took a step back. Her vicious smile gone.

"Lucifer... I-I didn't see you there..." She said.

You looked up at your boyfriend, whose expression was dark and furious. His hand moved from your back to your waist, and he pulled you close to his side.

"Clearly."

The tone of his voice sent chills down even your spine and you weren’t the one on the receiving end of his anger.

"I was just-"

"I heard what you were doing Molly. Now leave my club, you're no longer welcomed here." Lucifer snapped.

The woman, Molly, gaped at him in disbelief, and she stuttered out a protest.

"You're kicking me out! Over her!? How could you choose someone like that over me!"

Lucifer gave her a vindictive smile, and he held you closer.

"Because her beauty isn't skin deep, and quite frankly my dear, you're as shallow as a puddle, I prefer someone with a little more depth, which you lack entirely. You may have your looks, but you're a truly hideous human being."

Lucifer waved the bouncer over and led you away as you listened to Molly screech as she was escorted out.

Lucifer had taken you up to the penthouse, encouraged you to take off your heels and had gotten you a slightly stronger drink than you'd had before.

"I'm sorry I left you alone for so long darling, are you alright?"

You forced a smile, waving a hand dismissively.

"I'm alright Luc, it's nothing I didn't already know."

He frowned at your words, his eyebrows drawing together in confusion.

"I'm sorry?" He questioned.

You averted your gaze from his.

"She wasn't wrong, sure her words hurt, but she had a point."

Lucifer felt his heart ache at your words.

"What did she say Y/N?"

You stilled refused to look at him, instead choosing to pick at the fabric of your dress.

"That you were out of my league, I would only weigh you down, that I'm... I'm well I'm thicker than most girls. Just reminding me of things I already knew." You mumbled.

Lucifer was quiet for a moment, and you couldn’t bare to look at him. But in the next second your drink was plucked from your hands and you were being pulled into a crushing embrace.

"Oh love, don't you know I think you're perfect how you are? You're a kind and wonderful person. You light up a room just by walking in, you're the most beautiful thing I've ever seen."

You blinked back tears, holding him tightly as he kissed the top of your head.

"Darling I wouldn't change a thing about you." Lucifer muttered.

"Even if I'm heavy?"

He chuckled pulling away to cup your face in his hands.

"Especially that, besides there's just more for me to love, and I do love you, very much."

................................................................................

Tag List: @sallyp-53 @mizzezm @adira-secrets @we-are-all-alittle-strange-here @gingernarwal @im-just-along-for-the-ride @lifeshortbro @measure-in-pain @emiwrites3reads @stubby-toe-589331 @awesome-badass-cafeteria-sauce @kelly-n-russell @krispyalpacaduck

#lucifer morningstar x reader #lucifer morningstar #lucifer morningstar imagine #lucifer morningstar imagines #lucifer morningstar one shot #lucifer x reader #luciferonfox #luciferonnetflix #lucifer fox #lucifer netflix #lucifer morningstar oneshot #lucifer morningstar x you

282 notes · View notes

glass-rose-paperweight · 4 years ago

Text

Rosie Watson

I don’t see much talk about Rosie, which is understandable since she has so little screen time. However, a child is a pretty important part of anyone’s life. And I’m in a child psychology class right now, so this sort of stuff is on my mind. I often see her appear in fanfiction, usually inaccurately, which is understandable because writing children is hard. This post is going to talk about her development at the end of the show (about 18 months old), what her development would be like at 2 years old (a common age for her in fanfiction), and how Mary’s death might have affected her.

Physical Development

By 18 months old, the physical development of most babies is pretty well developed. They’re almost definitely going to be walking by this time, maybe still a little unsteadily, but most can get around pretty well without much assistance at 18 months. By two years old, most children can climb stairs, run, and jump. Other than growing bigger, their physical development is starting to come to a close. Fine motor skills are still developing at this age; gross motor skills are going to be more well developed. A common test used is stacking blocks. At 18 months, they can generally only stack about 3, but by 2 years, babies can usually stack 5 blocks. Their peripheral and color vision is basically completely developed by 2 years, and their eyes, unless there is something wrong with them, will probably be close to 20/20 vision. They have well developed depth perception and perceptual constancy (the idea that an object viewed from a different distance or a different angle is still the same object). By 18 months, their hearing is well developed, and babies of this age can locate the sources of sounds just as well as adults can.

Cognitive Development

Jean Piaget came up with 6 stages for cognitive development in babies. By 18 months, Rosie would be in either stage 5 (12-18 months) or stage 6 (18-24 months). By this age, Rosie would be quite inquisitive about the world. Babies at this age are described as ‘miniature scientists’: they are exploring and trying to figure out how things work, often getting into things they shouldn’t. And since they can move around pretty well by this age, they’re able to get into a lot of things. They will be engaging in trial and error behaviors in order to accomplish something, though at 18, the baby might be able to start mentally representing some objects and able to manipulate them in their head and figure it out that way. The example Piaget gives is an experiment he did on his own kids. At (I think) 18 months, he gave his daughter a stick that she wanted to pull into her crib. She was able to get it into her crib only by repeated trial and error of repeatedly turning the stick until it was able to fit through the bars. He repeated this experiment with a different kid when they were about 24 months old, and they were able to sit there and think about it for a moment before turning the stick and pulling it into the crib because they were able to mentally manipulate the stick. Object permanence is fully established around 12 months, so Rosie at this age would fully grasp it and go after objects that have left her view or been hidden. Deferred imitation (the ability to repeat an observed action after a waiting period) is also well established by 12 months - children are able to repeat actions seen 4 weeks prior. So it would be easy for Rosie to repeat the actions of others at 18 months, definitely by 2 years. This is because memory starts solidifying around 12 months. Toddlers 1-3 years old require 12-14 hours of sleep each day.

Language

I think this is the biggest mistake I see when it comes to writing really young children. Your 2 year old will not be speaking complete sentences. At 18 months, babies only have a vocabulary of about 50 words (though, they can understand far more words than this - probably twice as many words). Between 18 and 22 months, babies have a vocabulary explosion, going from 50 words to about 300. About 75% of the words gained during this time are nouns. What is common at this age is overextension, which is use of words in situations where meaning is extended. This usually happens with function or form. For example, if a baby is shown a small dog and told that is a ‘doggie’ and then shown a cow and told that is a ‘cow’, they child might think anything bigger than the small dog is a cow, even if its actually a dog. So medium to large dogs, sheep, horses, moose, and cows might all get called cows. By extension, anything about the size of the dog, or maybe even smaller, might get called ‘doggie’. Or, maybe the baby has a toy train that it calls a ‘choo-choo’. The baby might end up calling anything with wheels a ‘choo-coo’. At 18-24 months, babies will be using 2 word sentences. However, they do seem to understand syntax pretty well at this age - if they want you to sit in a chair, they will tell you ‘sit chair’, not ‘chair sit’. At this age, they will be using Telegraphic Speech, which are brief expressions that contain the meaning of the sentence but only essential words are used. Adults use this in their everyday life, such as if we text someone ‘home Tuesday’ instead of ‘I will be home on Tuesday’. If you want to go the route of showing Rosie as some sort of genius baby (or any baby of this age, for that matter), then you might have a baby using 3 word sentences with a vocabulary of 500 words. That would be a very smart baby. However, it’s almost impossible to tell how smart someone will be at this age. Baby’s brains are still developing, and even the smartest babies will have an upper limit on what they are capable of at this age. Most IQ tests can’t really start accurately predicting future intelligence until about 5 or 6. Even the tests that have been designed for babies 2 and younger are really only useful for telling if there’s some sort of cognitive impairment, not if the baby is exceptionally smart for its age. Even the ones that excel at the tests at that age might end up with only average intelligence. If you want Rosie to be a genius, it likely won’t really start showing until she is a little older.

Mary’s Death

Mary dies sometime between Rosie being about 6 months (when she throws the rattle at Sherlock) and 18 months (the end of TFP). We’ll just say 12 months for easy numbers. By this age, Rosie would have developed very strong attachments to her caregivers. Obviously John and Mary are her caregivers, but the scene where Rosie throws the rattle at Sherlock shows that Rosie has formed a strong attachment with Sherlock; 6 months is about the age where fear of strangers begins, and Rosie shows absolutely no discomfort with Sherlock, so he’s been around enough for the previous months to have a strong attachment with him. When Molly tells Sherlock that John doesn’t want to see him anymore at the end of T6T, we’re going to say that Rosie is about 12 months. This is about the time when fear of strangers starts declining, but if Rosie wasn’t pretty comfortable with Molly, she would be fussy at being taken away from her father, so it’s a pretty safe bet that Molly has also been pretty involved with taking care of Rosie. So, that’s 4 primary caregivers total. Some might think that, because Rosie is so young, Mary’s death wouldn’t affect her. And Rosie isn’t likely to remember Mary or that she died. However, babies are utterly dependent on those that take care of them. Consequently, they form very strong attachments to those that take care of them. As anyone who has been around a baby can tell you, they get upset when the person that takes care of them disappears and isn’t around to offer them safety and comfort. By 12, Rosie would have formed a very strong attachment with Mary; even with her other caregivers being around, she still would have noticed Mary’s absence and been affected by it. However, her other caregivers weren’t around. John tells Sherlock that he doesn’t want Sherlock around any more, and then Sherlock goes “off his tits” with drugs for a while. John is having to deal with his wife being dead and the anger he feels towards his friend over that. It’s shown that he’s not doing too well. He’s probably still Rosie’s primary caregiver, but he almost definitely wouldn’t be as involved as he was simply because he’s so emotionally distraught. Meaning that the person who was probably least involved with Rosie prior to Mary’s death (Molly) might have ended up becoming the main caregiver for Rosie for a little while there. She went from 4 to 1 and a half caregivers, more or less. And that would definitely have affected her.�� The most obvious way would be in her attachment style. Babies form different attachments to their caregivers, partially dependent on the baby’s own temperament, but usually dependent a lot more on the kind of care they receive. Most babies have secure attachment. Securely attached babies will show mild distress at a caregiver’s departure and will want to interact with the caregiver upon their return. However, they are easily comforted by the caregiver and go back to being happy and content pretty soon after being comforted. They use their caregiver as a secure base to explore the world around them. As long as the caregiver is close by, and giving positive signals as the baby is exploring if the baby becomes uncertain, they will remain content and explore just about everything they can. Securely attached babies are happier and more sociable with strangers, more cooperative with parents, get along better with peers, are better at problem solving, and having higher attention spans and lower impulsive behaviors. Contrast that with insecure attachment. There are actually 3 different types of insecure attachments, but I’m not going to go into them because this post is long enough as it is, and the individual types isn’t really important. There are some consistencies. Insecurely attached babies will be more emotionally distressed and less easily comforted by caregiver’s departure. They may initially show confusion or be dazed and disoriented with the caregiver first leaves. They may show contradictory behavior when the caregiver returns, alternating between pulling the caregiver close and pushing them away (though, there is one form of insecure attachment where the baby basically just ... doesn’t care about the caregiver. They show the least distress out of all babies when the caregiver leaves and basically ignores them when the caregiver returns). Rosie would most likely start out as a securely attached baby. She is surrounded by a lot of people that love her and engage with her and take very good care of her. Sherlock would absolutely encourage exploration and curiosity within Rosie. however, attachment styles can change, depending on the caregiving received. I think it likely that, after the events of T6T, her attachment style would change from secure to insecure. The good news is, that also means it can change back, from insecure to secure. Even though we see Sherlock and John interacting with her will at the end of TFP, she would likely still be insecurely attached. It takes time for anyone to get over that sort of thing. If you are writing her at 18-20 months, it would be completely believable to write her as being a bit of a ‘problem baby’, with all the issues that come from insecure attachment. However, by 2 years, she will likely have gone back to a secure attachment style, likely with no lasting consequences of what happened during season 4. Babies display a wonderful ability to bounce back from all sorts of harsh conditions they go through at a young age, showing almost no problems later in life as long as they are given the chance to have a better situation and improve.

I hope this helps anyone looking to write about Rosie or any babies about 18 to 24 months of age.

#rosie #rosie watson #sherlock #sherlock holmes #bbc #bbc sherlock #sherlock bbc #john watson #mary watson #mary morstan #writing advice #fanfiction help #babies #t6t #the six thatchers #tfp #the final problem

150 notes · View notes

malfoymanortings · 4 years ago

Text

silver tongue // part two

SUMMARY: charlie weasley was never the type to fall in love. his main focus has always been dragons. by the time he realizes he’s in love, it may be too late.

PAIRINGS: charlie weasley x fem!OC

WARNINGS: smut, and mentions of gore/injury.

well, here’s the final part to charlie’s story! i may write an epilogue of sorts in the future. and i may use luminita in a different story, i like her character! anyways, hope you all enjoy.

charlie and luminita fell into step with the order and the weasley family. charlie spent time catching up with his family and conversing with arthur on the foreign wizards they had gathered. luminita spent a fair amount of time with kingsley, who had taken a great interest in the girl. he said she was a great asset and a natural fighter, and she was assigned as a watch guard for the burrow while they were there.

luminita was surprisingly comfortable at the burrow. it made her realize where charlie got his decorating skills from; his shack in romania was filled with warm tones of mismatched fabrics and designs. it had always drove her crazy, she preferred a set tone and color palette. but now she knew charlie was just trying to have a piece of the burrow with him while he was with the dragons.

the day of the wedding, she was stationed to stand guard outside of the tent the ceremony was being held in. another wizard and witch, remus and tonks respectively, stood guard with her.

luminita had gotten to know the two fairly well, remus was a werewolf and he had soothed a lot of the concerns she had over her injuries. the only thing she had experienced was a likening towards rare meat, and restlessness during the full moon. tonks was a delightful metamorphmagus, and a strong willed fighter like her. tonks had suggested she would make a brilliant auror, but luminita assured her that her heart belonged to the dragons and romania.

tonks was the person who had given her a dress for the wedding, a silver cap sleeved gown that clung to her chest and torso, before flowing weightlessly to her feet. her wild thick hair was twisted up in a bun, showcasing the thin dragon scale necklace around her neck. she rarely had a chance to dress up, and she enjoyed it in spite of herself.

“it’s a beautiful day for a wedding,” tonks commented brightly, twirling her wand in her hands. “not too warm, not too windy.”

“thank you for the weather update.” remus smirked playfully at the purple haired witch, nudging her shoulder.

tonks glared at remus, with no real malice. luminita laughed, their banter heartwarming and yet painful at the same time.

“so how long have you and charlie been an item?” tonks asked luminita, winking at the girl whose eyes had widened at the assumption.

“oh, no, we aren’t together,” she let out a humorless laugh. “we’re both too focused on our work. he’s always said the dragons are enough for him, he can’t entertain a relationship while there are so many undiscovered dragons.”

tonks shared a look with remus, their expressions gentle. “sometimes you just need to convince a man otherwise. even if they’re stubborn.”

luminita smiled politely, her insides churning. it was a nice sentiment, but it wasn’t like that with charlie. she knew long before her feelings for him grew that he wasn’t interested in any relationship with anyone. she was just foolish enough to let herself be captivated by charming grin and muscular biceps, his infectious laugh and extraordinary personality. she had never met someone quite like him.

spending time around his family for the past few days, she was able to see where it had all stemmed from.

before long, the ceremony had conceded and music began blasting from the speakers within. laughter and the clinking of silverware echoed outside, and luminita couldn’t help but peek inside to take a look.

“oh, you can go on inside,” tonks waved towards the tent, her eyes flicking over to remus. “we can take it from here.”

luminia hesitated, but at their reassurances, she slipped inside the tent.

she had never seen so many redheads in one place. charlie had been the first and only redhead she had met, and she found it a bit jarring to suddenly be surrounded by them. she sought him out now, a smile appearing on her face when she finally caught sight of him walking towards her.

“lumi,” he greeted, giving her a hug. he pulled away, his hands still on her arms, his eyes raking over her body. “you look wonderful.”

she laughed, a blush coating her cheeks. “well thanks. you don’t look half bad yourself, i almost don’t recognize you without the layer of ash on your face.”

charlie laughed loudly, the corners of his eyes crinkling. “thanks, i think!”

they walked over to the drinks, each taking a glass of fire whiskey. a few of charlie’s relatives came over to talk with him

about his work with the dragons, and a few of them asked if luminita was his girlfriend. charlie would quickly shake his head, his cheeks would flush, and he would deny it. luminita would joke and say she had much higher standards, even if the words burned her mouth on their way out.

“would you fancy a dance?” charlie asked suddenly, as they had finished off their drinks.

luminita nodded, her lips turning up as she let herself be led away to throng of people twirling to the music.

she began swaying to the music, charlie’s large hands splayed out on her hips. she had her hands on his shoulders, and they moved fluidly together to the music.

“your family is really nice,” she told him, looking into his brown eyes. “fred and george have a nice amount of spunk in them. and ginny is a force to be reckoned with. she kind of reminds me of me when i was her age.”

charlie nodded in agreement. “the twins have really made something for themselves. i’m so proud of them. ginny, too.”

“oh, charles, you’ve gone soft of us,” fred appeared next to them, twirling a gorgeous blond as he passed.

“really, i think we may swoon.” george finished, a similar girl in his arms as they danced together.

“just wait until after this wedding, i’ll have the both of you in a headlock before you can say mum.” charlie threatened, giving the two of them a look.

“we’ll be waiting!” the twins had identical grins, and they led the dance floor, disappearing with the veelas.

charlie grinned, shaking his head, and he twirled luminita in a circle. she felt wild, carefree. the feeling of charlie’s warm hands on her hips and the feeling of his thick muscles under her hands made her feel invincible. they never got the opportunity to be intimate like this, and all they were doing was dancing.

maybe it was the rush of euphoria she received from being so close with him, his hands on her hips, his eyes watching her every move. or maybe it was the feel that weddings had, like love was an attainable thing for all to grasp. whatever it was, when the music switched to a slow song, she had to finally put her feelings for the burly boy out in the open so there were no more second guesses.

“charlie,” luminita bit her lip, their movements slowing. “i know how you feel about relationships. i know we’re in a war. i know we can die at any moment... and that’s why i need to just say this and be done.”

“luminita...”

“i care for you, charlie weasley. a lot. a damn lot, and who knows? maybe i love you. and perhaps it’s wishful thinking, but i think you like me too.”

she could feel him tense under her hands as her words spilled out in an honest confession. they paused in their dancing, and she waited with bated breath to hear his reply.

as charlie opened his mouth, everyone’s attention was suddenly turned to the opening of the tent, where a silver lynx landed a few feet away from charlie and luminita. she quickly reached under her dress for her wand that was strapped to her calf, holding it tightly in anticipation.

the patronus’ mouth opened wide, and it spoke in the loud, deep, slow voice of kingsley shacklebolt.

“the ministry has fallen. scrimgeour is dead. they are coming.”

everything was silent for a moment, most of the guests were still turned towards the remaining vapors of the patronus. then somebody screamed.

guests started running in all directions, many were disapperating. luminita swore, realizing the enchantments around the burrow had broken.

the death eaters came rather quickly. they were masked and cloaked, firing spells into the crowd of people.

luminita began dueling, her mouth set in a determined line. she was vaguely aware of charlie fighting at her side, firing off a few ‘protego’ as they fought together.

then luminita saw ginny, who appeared as though she was too busy searching for someone rather than looking out for her back. she was going to get herself killed.

“charlie,” she spat out of the corner of her mouth, firing a leg locking curse at one of the cloned figures. “where is your families safe house?”

“my aunt muriels,” charlie responded under his breath, stunning a death eater. “go there!”

“no chance in hell!”

she sprinted across the dance floor, kicking her heels off in the process. she dodged spellwork, twisting around to fire back as she ran.

“protego!” she shouted, blocking a curse that very nearly hit ginny. “ginerva! get a hold of yourself!”

“harry left,” ginny told her, her eyes wild. “i didn’t get to say goodbye.”

“you’ll see him again,” she panted, gathering the girl behind her. “where’s your wand.”

“i don’t know, i don’t know, i think it’s in the burrow.”

luminita cursed, scanning the crowd as spells continued blasting around them. molly weasley looked panic stricken, as she fired off spells at the death eaters, her eyes darting around in a worried haste. aunt muriel was next to her, looking as though she were going to hyperventilate.

she was looking for ginny.

“molly!” she yelled, grabbing ginnys arm as the quickly maneuvered through the crowd.

molly looked up at her, relief sagging in her features as she saw ginny beside her. luminita pushed ginny into her mother’s arms, and they clung to each other.

“go to the safe house, we’ll take care of things from here.”

molly nodded, and turned on her heel. with a crack, they disappeared.

luminita turned back to the crowd, and joined forces with remus and tonks, the three of them were soon joined by charlie. charlie and luminita fought back to back, alongside the other two.

it appeared the death eaters were only there for harry potter. once they realized he was no longer there, due to one of them shouting it in disappointment, they left in a cloud of black smoke.

the beautifully decorated tent was destroyed, the flowers trampled and decorations ripped, platters of food and drink strewn around the floor. a few areas had been set on fire and put out, the smoldering remains letting off plumes of black smoke.

“is anyone hurt?” arthur called out tersely, a deep looking ash on his forearm.

there were a few murmurings through the crowd, but no one appeared to be gravely injured.

“right, then, let’s clean up and then we can recoup.”

it didn’t take very long to get the place cleaned up, most of it just needed to be banished away as it was damaged beyond repair. bill expressed regret over the flowers being destroyed; fleur had wanted to save a few in a photo album of their day. but they were all wrecked, stomped into the ground.

the order members who had attended the wedding all apparated to muriels cottage, crammed into the small living room as they waited for kingsley to appear. he came at half past nine, looking worn and torn.

“was harry able to leave?” he asked, standing in front of the order members.

arthur nodded. “he, ron, and hermione left. no one was able to get them.”

“that’s good.”

they began discussing further plans for the order, and repairing the wards that had been broken at the burrow. they would all head back tomorrow morning to redo he magical charms, and resume their normal schedules.

as the order members aside from the weasleys and luminita began to file out, kingsley called to her and charlie.

“you two are heading back to romania tomorrow, right?”

charlie nodded tensely. “that’s the plan.”

kingsley nodded slowly, looking over at luminita. she forced herself to remain strong under his intimidating gaze.

“luminita, if you’re willing, i would like for you to stay behind. you’re an excellent fighter, and we could really use your help.”

she faltered, unsure of what to say. she hadn’t been expecting him to say that.

“no,” charlie answered, shaking his head. “no, she comes home with me.”

“charlie, think of what’s best for the order,” kingsley said firmly, turning his gaze on the man. “if she refuses, then that’s fine. but if she’s willing to help the order, that’s her decision to make.”

“im not leaving her here unprotected,” charlie’s voice was bordering on hysterical now. “miles away from where i could help her. where i go, she goes.”

the two men stared at each other, silence echoing loudly around them. luminita felt her heart thud at the way charlie was talking about her, and she very nearly said no. but he said she would be a great asset, and if she would be more helpful here... she couldn’t say no, especially not after the death eaters she encountered tonight. fighting like that... it gave a thrill that reminded her of trying to bond with a dragon. and if she could help innocent people and fight against voldemort hands on, well, she wouldn’t say no.

charlie looked at her, and his shoulders sagged as he recognized her expression.

“please, lumi,” his voice was low and pleading. “don’t stay. come home with me.”

she swallowed hard, and looked over to kingsley. she gave the man a firm nod, straightening her shoulders. “i’ll stay.”

charlie cursed, and stormed out of the room. the front door slammed behind him, and luminita shut her eyes briefly.

“tomorrow we’ll meet at the burrow and discuss your role,” kingsley held out his hand, and they shook firmly. “i have an assignment in mind for you already.”

kingsley left then, biding a goodnight to the rest of the weasleys. luminita took a steadying breath, and slipped outside. the grass was cool against her bare feet, and the wind was balmy against her skin.

charlie stood leaning against a tree a few yards away from the house, staring out at the vast forest that expanded beyond muriels cottage. his sleeves were rolled up, and the ends of his dragon tattoo poked out from his right bicep. her heart ached as she walked towards him.

“hey,” she said softly, crossing her arms as she stopped next to him. “can we talk?”

“how could you just decide that?” he turned to her, his words hard and fast as they came from his mouth. “how could you just decide to leave me and stay here?”

“charlie, you know i won’t back down from a fight. you know i’m not the type of person to run and hide. if there’s a chance i can be more helpful here then in romania, i have to do it.”

“even if that means leaving the dragons? leaving me? i thought you lov-“ and he cut himself short, the words snipped shut as soon as he thought them.

she shut her eyes, taking another steadying breath against the thud of her heart. “don’t do that.”

“do what? at the wedding, you said- you said you loved me. how can you just drop that on me and then just leave me?”

“are you kidding me? it doesn’t even matter charlie! you don’t feel the same way about me! the dragons will always come first!”

“fuck the dragons!” charlie roared, and he took hold of her shoulders. “i love you, damnit, and i can’t lose you!”

he crashed his lips against hers, and she lost her hands in his wavy hair. she opened her mouth, tongue and teeth clashing against each other. his deliciously muscular body pressed against hers, fulfilling many a fantasy she had ever since she saw him with his shirt off three years ago. his hands cupped her cheeks, pressing her harder against him.

every single one of her nerve endings were on fire as his hands ghosted down to her hips, gripping them tightly before he tapped her thighs, signaling for her to jump. she did, wrapping her legs around his waist as he turned around, pressing her against the tree.

as his lips trailed down her neck, nipping ravenously at her skin, she could feel his hardness pressing against her core. hardness that she caused. it sparked a fire deep in her chest, and she moaned loudly as he ground her hips into hers.

he looked up at her, his eyes dark. “do you want this?”

she nodded, her eyes fluttering at the feel of his body pressed against hers. “i’ve wanted this for years, charlie.”

at her admission, he pulled up her dress, and pushed aside her panties, slipping a finger into her wetness. her eyes rolled into the back of her head, and she gripped at his hair as he plunged his fingers deep in her pussy. his thumb rubbed circles on her sensitive clit, while his two fingers thrusted in and out in a fast pace.

“charlie,” his name fell from her lips among a string of moans, his hair still gripped in her fists.

“say my name,” charlie growled, biting down harshly on her neck. “say my goddamn name.”

“charlie!”

she could feel the knot in her stomach building, and just as it was about to unravel, his fingers left her heat. her unfocused eyes attempted to look at him in annoyance, wondering why he stopped, when his full length suddenly slammed into her with a force that brought tears to her eyes.

“you like it rough, don’t you slut,” he murmured, groaning as he rolled his hips against hers. “taking me so well.”

she threw her head back in both pain and pleasure as his cock pounded into her, hitting deep inside her as he continued sucking on

her neck. the pain subsided, and she nearly saw stars as he brought a hand down to rub circles on her clit.

the knot in her stomach returned, and with it came a primal need to mark charlie as hers. she lifted her head, bending towards his neck and searching for his soft spot. as he moaned when her tongue licked over a spot near the base of his throat, she bit down harshly, drawing blood that she quickly licked up, moving to suck on the other side of his neck.

“did you just bite me?” charlie gasped out, his hips flush against hers.

she tilted her head back, meetings his eyes as he continued slamming into her. “yeah, i did.”

“do it again.” he groaned darkly, moving his head back to expose the other side of his neck.

she did as he asked, sinking her teeth once more into the taught skin of his neck. she supposed the need to bite him and mark him as hers came from the werewolf scars, but she hadn’t expected charlie to be so open to it.

the knot in her stomach tightened, and she moaned as the pressure built. charlie’s thrusts became sloppy, and she knew he was close too.

“gonna cum,” he grunted, slamming his hips into hers. “fill you up like the slut you are.”

his words drove them both over the edge, and with one final thrust he came inside her, and she released on his dick. his hips stilled, still flush against hers, and he buried his head against her neck. she rested her head on top of his, her arms resting limply around his neck.

“so,” she said after a moment, a pleased smirk on her lips. “i’m a slut?”

charlie looked up immediately, his face flushing maroon. “oh, erm, i didn’t mean-“

“don’t take it back!” she exclaimed, a laugh falling from her lips. “it’s hot. dirty. didn’t expect that from you.”

charlie gave an exasperated sigh, shaking his head. he pulled out of her, setting her down gingerly. her legs felt like jello, and she held onto his shoulders to steady herself.

“was it too much for you?” he teased her, his eyes dark.

she swatted at his arm, forcing herself to stand on her own. “in your dreams, weasley.”

“oh trust me, this will be the center of my dreams for years to come.”

she rolled her eyes, pulling her panties back up. “if only you would have done this sooner.”

charlie nodded slowly. “if only... are you really going to stay?”

“i have to, charlie. if it’s in the best interest of the order, then-“

“forget the order,” he stated firmly, placing a hand on her hip. “what is best for you?”

she paused. “charlie. i wouldn’t be able to live with myself if i left when i could have helped people. not after what i saw today.”

“i suppose i knew that,” he sighed ruefully. “that’s just who you are. it’s why i love you.”

“so you do love me?”

he gave her a look. “i don’t just tell people i love them if i don’t mean it. of course i do.”

she nodded. “i love you too.”

she held out her hand, and he grasped it tightly. his large one engulfed her small

one in warmth, and they walked hand in hand back to the cottage. they didn’t specify a label on each other, but she didn’t feel they needed to. they loved each other. that was all they needed.

the next day, luminita received her first assignment from kingsley. charlie prepared to leave for romania. they spent their last night together in his childhood bedroom, familiarizing each other’s bodies in the tangle of his sheets.

but he had to leave, and she had to stay.

kingsley kept her busy, and she found she didn’t have much time to dwell on how much she missed charlie. it stayed with her, like a thorn in her side, but most nights she was so exhausted she fell into a dreamless sleep, only to wake up the next morning early to get a start on her duties.

she stayed with the weasleys in the burrow, and grew quite close with molly and the twins. she practiced dueling with the boys on her rare days off, which they greatly enjoyed.

but of course, all good things must come to an end, and when ginny returned home for easter break, ron was found traveling with harry potter and hermione granger. the trio got away, but the weasleys shot to the top of the death eaters most wanted list. they were forced into hiding, and luminita took on a heavier work load as the death eaters became more determined to destroy the supporters of harry potter.

eventually, she was stationed in hogsmeade, which meant that when the final battle began, she was one of the first to join.

“it’s unfortunate you’re seeing hogwarts in shambles as your first impression,” george called to her, as he hexed a death eater. “it’s bloody amazing in its full glory.”

“has to be, though,” fred chimed in, dodging a bat bogey hex. “it’s where we got our start! the infamous weasley twins!”

“load of braggarts, you lot!” chided luminita, sending a stunner straight to the chest of a burly death eater.

the three worked together, battling the emerging death eaters. at some point in the chaos, george split away from the two, and they were joined by percy, the weasley who had blacklisted his family.

“i was a fool, fred,” percy shouted hoarsely, shooting spells at the four hooded and masked death eaters that had them back into a corner. “an utter fool!”

“and a right prat!” added fred, ducking as a green spell whizzed by his ear.

luminita became separated from the two as the death eater split them apart, two took on her while the other two kept at the weasleys. she was forced to only cast shielding spells, as she was unable to do much else with the both of them constantly firing at her. but then, by sheer luck, she found an opening.

“ventura!” she shouted, jabbing her wand directly at the two.

a hurricane swirled out of her wand, gathering the two death eaters into its depths. they flung around the room, hitting the ceiling with a sickening crack before falling to the floor, their thick blood spilling out onto the floor.

she shouted the counter curse, and the hurricane disappeared.

“nice one, lumi!” fred shouted in approval.

jets of light flew in every direction, and luminita rushed forward to help the two weasleys; out of the corner of her vision, she saw harry, ron, and hermione emerge from the hallway.

one of the death eaters hoods slipped, revealing his high forehead and streaked hair.

“hello, minister!” bellowed percy, sending a neat jinx to thicknesse who dropped his wand and clawed at his rom in discomfort. “did i mention i’m resigning?”

“you’re joking, perce!” shouted fred with glee, as the death eater he was battling collapsed under the weight of four separate stunning spells. “you actually are joking, perce.. i haven’t heard you joke since you were-“

luminita felt the electric pull of the air, and her instincts kicked in. she reached out, grabbing hold of fred, just as the air around them exploded.

they flung through the air, and luminita held fred close to her chest with her wand gripped tightly in her hand, protecting his head with her arms. the yells and screams of their companions echoed around them, and the cold air that hit let her know the wall of the castle had been blasted away.

they landed with a crash, her head cracking against the floor of the castle, her leg bending the wrong way with a throbbing pain. fred slammed painfully against her chest, but she didn’t release her hold on him.

then the world resolved itself into pain and semi darkness; they were half buried in the wreckage of the corridor.

she looked down at fred, who had a dazed expression in his face. there was a gash across his forehead, dripping thick blood in his eyes.

“lumi, you have to let go of me so we can get up,” fred groaned, and she released his hold on him. “think you may have just saved my life.”

“that was the hope.” the words came out funny, and her head exploded in black stars. she wasn’t sure that the words had came out at all. there was something thick and sticky coating the back of her head, and when she reached her hand back to gingerly touch it, moaning at the pain, her hand came back slick with blood.

“percy! ron! help me get her out of here!”

she was vaguely aware of someone jostling her body out of the rubble as the pain coalesced into a blinding blackness of stars, and she faded away.

the next time she opened her eyes, she was staring at the twinkling ceiling of the great hall. she felt as though her head was filled with foam, and her leg had a stabbing pain reverberating through her shin.

“lumi?”

her eyes fluttered over to the worried face of charlie weasley, and her heart swelled. “charlie.”

he carefully gathered her in his strong arms, holding her against his chest. “i told you to be safe.”

she wrapped her arms around him, not fully believing he was there.

“luminita. never thought i’d see the day you weren’t tossing me a witty comment.”

she lifted her head off charlie’s chest to see billius standing near them, and a grin cracked across her face.

“oh, shut it,” she scoffed. “go suck on a dragon scale.”

“that’s my girl,” billius grinned, before pausing thoughtfully. “guess i probably shouldn’t say that. you’re charlie’s girl now.”

a warmth filled her chest as his words processed, and her head became less foamy. “yeah. i am.”

“you hit your head really hard and broke your leg,” charlie informed her, keeping her in his arms. “maria had to regrow the back of your skull, and a few of your leg bones. you’re still healing.”

“maria’s here?”

“all of our romanian allies are here. we got here just after the battle ended.”

she could hear the frustration in his voice. she knew it must have killed him to get here late and then find that she was injured. “you’re here now. that’s what matters.”

they caught up while her skull regrew, and the other weasleys came by as well. fred thanked her again for saving him, and molly nearly cried as she thanked her for saving her son. she waved them off, not caring for the attention.

before long, the battle resumed, and charlie had to leave her to help in the fight. she tried her best to get up against his orders, but her vision went blurry and her leg sent shooting pains through her body. so, she was forced to sit there while harry potter was declared dead. the war raged on.

then, harry potter was alive again. the war began turning for the better, and it seemed that they would win. the residents of hogsmeade joined in, and before long, harry had killed voldemort.

the war was over.

charlie came back to her immediately, taking her in his arms and holding her tightly. she wrapped her arms around his torso as his hands tangled in her hair, and he peppered her face with kisses.

“i love you, luminita,” he declared, cupping her cheeks in his hands. “marry me.”

“marry you?” she gaped at him, staring up at his heavily freckled face.

a grin broke out across his face. “are you deaf? i said marry me, damnit!”

her heart swelled with love, and she nodded fast, her head spinning from the movement. “charlie weasley, of course i’ll marry you.”

he kissed her passionately, lifting her in his arms. everything was right in her world.

the sun rose steadily over hogwarts as they celebrated, and mourned over the ones they had lost. luminita was saddened to hear that tonks and remus had died, she would never forget their kindness. she wished she was able to tel tonks that charlie had proposed, the delightful woman would been ecstatic to hear the news.

they celebrated, they mourned. clean up on the castle would begin tomorrow, but for now, everyone was invited to stay in the dorms or go home.

charlie and luminita decided to go back to the burrow with their family. they would head back to romania after the shock of the battle wore off, but for now, charlie needed to be with his family. luminita knew that.

as she lay in charlie’s arms that night in his childhood bedroom, she smiled genuinely. she supposed she had bonded with a dragon after all.

one

#charlie weasley one shot #charlie weasley imagine #charlie #charlie weasley x oc #charlie weasley #weasley #weasley smut #charlie weasley smut #harry potter #fred weasley #hp #hp x reader #harry potter series #hogwarts #george weasley

103 notes · View notes

yletylyf · 3 years ago

Text

Holiday fluff day 23!

To Close the Parting Year: After settling into a relationship and building a life together, Severus Snape and Tom Riddle close out their first year living by themselves in their cozy cottage.

A month of prompts from HP De-stress December; read the posts tagged with hp de-stress december starting from Day 1 at the bottom of the page. These drabbles take place after the end of my long Severus Snape/Tom Riddle fic, The Secret of the Philosopher’s Stone.

Cross-posted to Ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/35856592

December 23: Sweaters

Severus and Tom were not home for long before they received visitors.

The visitor was, of course, the only person comfortable dropping by on Severus unannounced and without an invitation: his son.

But Roger was also standing at the front door with Ginny Weasley.

"Miss Weasley," Severus greeted her in some surprise. "Hello. Welcome. Come on in, if you like."

"Thanks, Professor," Ginny said with a bright smile. If she was nervous about being here, it didn't show.

Roger and Ginny stepped through the vestibule and into the sitting room.

"Please call me Severus," he said, in a now-familiar refrain.

"All right," Ginny said, and actually took him up on it. "Hello, Severus, how are you doing?"

"I'm well," he answered, returning her smile. It shouldn't have surprised him that Ginny Weasley was comfortable addressing a former professor by his first name. "What can I do for you? Would you like some tea?"

"Sure," Ginny said, putting some packages on a table. "I came to deliver these. My mum made them, but only for you two and Roger, and it would have been too awkward to give them to you at the Malfoys'."

Molly Weasley made something for Severus and Tom? Severus had definitely not seen that coming. To cover his consternation, he retreated to the kitchen to start the kettle and arrange the tea.

When he came back out, Roger and Ginny were sitting next to each other on the couch, holding hands. It was cute.

Severus served the tea, and Tom finally came downstairs to see who had arrived.

"You must be Ginny Weasley," Tom said, offering his hand out to her. Like they had never met before.

"That's right," Ginny said brightly, and shook Tom's hand. "Nice to meet you. My mum decided to express her support for my new relationship by making something for Roger's parents. Here," Ginny said, and pulled her hand out of Roger's, to offer the wrapped packages to Tom and Severus.

"She shouldn't have," Severus said, unwrapping the present to find a very familiar sight: a Weasley Christmas sweater. These were the first he'd ever seen in silver and green, but Severus had definitely not missed the Weasley family parading around Hogwarts in these for the past decade or so. Now that he noticed it, he realized both Roger and Ginny were wearing similar sweaters—also in silver and green.

"They are lovely," Tom said, and even Severus couldn't tell whether he was lying. "We will thank her, of course, but thank you to you as well for being the messenger."

"She loves to do stuff like this," Ginny said with a shrug. "And it's—it's also sort of a peace offering to me, doing them all in Slytherin colors."

"It took her this long to give you a peace offering?" Severus asked, incredulous. "You've been in Slytherin for six and a half years."

Ginny's smile was a tad brittle. "Yes," she said. "Dad was completely understanding about it from the beginning. His mother was in Slytherin, you know. But the Prewetts were all in Gryffindor since forever, and Mum took it hard. So did my stupid brothers."

"I'm sorry to hear that," Tom said, with a perfectly straight face.

Next to Ginny, Roger actually rolled his eyes at Tom. Tom's completely sober expression did not change.

"It's fine," Ginny said. "I love Slytherin. It's the best House."

"That it is," Severus said with a slight smile. "Well, it was very kind of your mother to think of us. We will have to send her a gift basket or something as thanks."

"She really likes orange-flavored chocolate," Ginny advised. "Thank you for the tea. I'll see you tomorrow for dinner at the Malfoys'?"

"Yes," Severus agreed. "We look forward to it."

#my fic #sniddle #Severus Snape/Tom Riddle #hp de-stress december #holiday fluff #drabble

2 notes · View notes

merakiaes · 4 years ago

Text

I’m Here - Draco Malfoy

Pairing: Draco Malfoy x reader

Requested: By @darkness-is-mystery and 2 x Anons.

Prompts: #4, #7, #24, #29 and #33 from the angst-list and #7 from the hug-list.

Warnings/notes: To the anon who requested #29 from the angst-list and #7 from the hug-list, I hope you see this, because your ask disappeared from my inbox :-( This is probably one of the worst pieces I’ve ever written but I have five more Draco one-shots coming up so hopefully they’ll end up better. Just stay with me😭 Not proofread, so I apologize in advance for any possible mistakes.

Wordcount: 2381

Summary: After losing your parents at the merciless hand of Voldemort, leaving you to stay with the Weasleys, your relationship with Draco isn’t in the best of places.

You were born in 1980, the first and only child to two pure-blooded parents who held a high ranking in Voldemort’s inner circle during his reign, right alongside the Malfoys and the Blacks.

After the end of the First Wizarding War and Voldemort’s death, your parents just barely managed to escape imprisonment and realized quickly that they much preferred the peaceful life, something they hadn’t even considered before you were born.

Like the Malfoys, they just went on with their lives, thinking their Lord wouldn’t be coming back and raising you alongside Draco.

But then, when you were fifteen years old, he returned, and when he started showing interest in you and Draco, your parents realized they had no other choice but betray the dark wizard for the sake of your safety.

Voldemort had been back for about six months when they turned up at the doorstep of 12 Grimmauld Place, seeking out the Order.

At that time, there was still not many who believed Harry Potter’s claims of Voldemort’s return, not even when Dumbledore had confirmed them himself.

But when your parents turned up, throwing in their wands to show them they posed no threat and offering their services, they knew for sure that war was soon to come.

In exchange for the reassurance that you would be protected and taken care of if something was to happen to them, your parents reported inside information to the Order of Voldemort’s plans to make his comeback, something the Dark Lord was not happy about when he found out.

Narcissa had tried to warn them, but she was too late, the other Death Eaters already on your parents’ trail.

They died, mercilessly killed for their treason, leaving you in the care of Molly and Arthur Weasley like agreed; something that was very much frowned upon by your Slytherin peers.

Draco and yourself, who had been attached at the hip up until then, drifted apart now that you were, in his parents’ words, a traitor by association, and you were no longer welcome in the circle of friends you had previously been in.

You’d think you would be welcome in the Gryffindor house now that you were living with four of them but no. Ron was weary of you, just like he was everyone who wore the colors of green and silver, and in turn, everyone else were too.

You were alone, apart from the very few times that Draco went against his parents’ orders to stay away from you to meet up with you in the shadows, away from prying ears and eyes, and being alone and forced to carry the weight of your parents’ deaths all by yourself was bound to blow up in your face eventually.

Almost a year had gone by since their passing now, and you had managed to keep yourself together for so long. But one could only bottle up so many emotions, and when you one day overheard Pansy Parkinson talking crap about your parents in the hallway, you couldn’t take it anymore.

You collapsed on the cold stone floors in panic, not being able to breathe and your surroundings melting together as tears blurred your vision.

You’d have to be more or less carried to the hospital wing by Professor Snape and McGonagall for all eyes to see, when Hermione had been kind enough to go fetch them, most likely out of pity.

But you were pleasantly surprised when she stayed by your side and Harry and the entire Weasley clan showed up too, all of them sticking by your side in the hospital wing until you got moved to a private bedroom for the night at the orders of Dumbledore, to allow you to calm down.

You didn’t know what exactly had changed, seeing as they had all avoided to even look at you earlier that same day, but you didn’t complain, realizing slowly that maybe you were the one who had made yourself too unavailable and that’s why they had stayed away.

But no matter how happy you were to finally be welcomed into their circle, the only person you could think about when you laid alone in your temporary bedroom was Draco.

Before your parents’ passing, back when they had still been loyal to Voldemort and the Malfoys, he had been the one you went to with your problems and vice versa, but now he couldn’t even look at you when people were around and it hurt, probably more than anything.

He would only show up when no one else was around, to talk to you as if nothing had changed.

But when you needed him, he was never available, simply turning away from you and pretending that he couldn’t see you, as if you hadn’t known each other for the past fifteen years of your lives.

You sighed, closing your eyes as the countless memories of the silver-haired boy flicked through your mind in a sequence.

And then, all of a sudden, just as that the thought passed through your head, a loud bang on the door sounded through the room, causing your eyes to shoot right back open.

Your eyes instantly flickered over to the dark wooden door, your heart thumping loudly in your chest and your breath getting heavy.

You knew exactly who it was, and suddenly you didn’t want to see him anymore.

More specifically, you didn’t want him to see you, because you knew that he would, now that you were alone, ask about how you were, about what had happened, and after everything that had happened, you didn’t know how to talk to him without breaking down anymore.

“Open the bloody door, (Y/N). I know you’re in there.” His muffled voice reached your ears, followed by another harsh knock.

Sighing, you started to push yourself up from the bed, knowing fully well that he wouldn’t give up until you let him in, so you might as well do it immediately to save yourself from minutes worth of listening to his knocking.

Your head was still spinning and hurting from the amount of crying you had been doing in the hospital wing and more than anything you just wanted to lay back down and go to sleep, but you forced yourself to push back the exhaustion and depression and approached the door, twisting the key and pushing down on the handle.

You didn’t even bother to stay behind to let him in, leaving him to let himself in while you walked back into the room, stopping in the middle and leaning against the frame of the bed, meeting his eyes as he walked in after you and closed the door behind him.

His eyes were hard and his lips pulled into a tight line as he watched you, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed.

He was silent for a moment, just standing there in front of the door with his fists clenched tightly by his sides, until he finally took a step forward.

“Why didn’t you tell me you were in the hospital wing?” He asked you.

“How did you know I was here?” You asked back with an emotionless expression, but he didn’t miss a beat.

“Answer my question.”

His voice was quieter now, but the scowl was still evident on his face, seeming to be permanently etched onto his sharp, perfect features.

You could only swallow, pushing back the thoughts that began entering your head. “Why would I?” You asked flatly, crossing your arms over your chest.

“We’re friends.” He replied as if it was the most obvious things in the world, the tone of his voice sounding awfully offended and strained.

“Are we friends, though? Are we really?” You asked, glaring. “Everyone hates me because of my parents’ treachery and I see you, laughing along with them when they talk about me. You don’t even talk to me unless we’re alone where no one can see us. That’s not what I consider a friend.”

He stared at you, silent for a moment, and then he nodded.

“You’re right. We’re not friends. We’re more, and you know it.” He replied, again without missing a beat while walking closer to you. “I know how things must look. But you’re the one who’s shown me what love can feel like, and I-“

“Don’t.” You interrupted, holding up a hand and shaking your head, giving him a pointed look. “Don’t even go there. Don’t stand there and lie to me like that.”

“I never meant to hurt you. I’m not lying.” He finished with a soft look, but nonetheless stopped in his tracks when you motioned for him to.

At this point, your entire body had grown stiff and rigid where you stood, the need to defend yourself growing more and more for every second passing.

“You didn’t.” You assured him, plastering on a tight smile. “I’m fine, so you can go now.”

Draco Malfoy was a lot of things, but stupid was not one of them, being able to see right through your tough façade without any trouble and giving you a glare. “Don’t do that. Don’t shut me out.” He said, and you snorted, swallowing when the familiar stinging feeling returned to your eyes.

“You can’t keep this up forever. Just let me help-“

“I don’t need help!” You interrupted again, your voice rising into a yell. “I’m not broken so stop trying to fix me! You’ve been gone, Draco! You haven’t been there for me when I’ve needed you so don’t start now!”

His face fell, obviously taken aback at the sudden change of volume in your voice.

The first tear rolled down your cheek then, and that’s all it took for you to break down to the floor again, your knees giving out underneath you and your back sliding down against the end of the bed.

Draco was at your side in an instant, hand slowly reaching for you where you sat with your knees pulled up to your chest and your head buried in your arms as you cried.

He moved carefully, unsure of what to do, but after a moment, he slowly wrapped his arms around you, and you responded almost instantly, turning in his direction and letting him take you into his arms.

He held you so carefully, as if you were made out of glass and you would break on the spot if he squeezed you any harder, and in turn, that only made you cry harder.

His hand came up to the back of your head and you trembled, sniffled and cried, holding on to the front of his shirt as if your life depended on it.

“I loved them more than anything in the world and they’re dead because of me.” You finally spoke through the thickness of your throat, and above you, you should feel him shaking his head.

“It wasn’t your fault.” He denied, and at that, you immediately tore yourself out of his grasp again.

“But it was.” You shook your head, looking at him. “And I don’t want to get any closer to you because my heart wouldn’t be able to handle losing you, too. So please, please, leave me alone.”

Despite the words leaving your lips, your body was giving off the opposite impression, your hands holding on to the fabric of his sleeves.

Draco noticed this and shook his head, holding you tighter. “I’m not going anywhere.” He said. “So talk to me, please.”

Your lip trembled, your eyes squeezing shut to prevent the tears from falling. “I don’t want to talk.” You whispered.

“What do you want then?” He asked, and you let out a shaky breath, taking a moment to collect yourself before looking back up at him through blurry vision, tears still falling down your cheeks at a rapid pace.

“Never mind what I want.” You stated, shaking your head. “What do you want? Why are you here? Why can’t you just leave me alone completely, rather than stringing me along and then leaving me when I need you the most?”

Draco swallowed, his face unsure. “You.” He replied simply, his voice coming out as a mere whisper. “I’ve always wanted you.”

Your crying was slowly beginning to slow down, your face pulling into one of confusion. “Why?”

“You know why.” He didn’t miss a beat in answering, a stern and determined look overtaking his face. “I’m not leaving you. Not this time.”

You let out another shaky breath, closing your eyes and tiredly leaning your forehead against his. “I’m just tired. I’m so tired.” You mumbled.

“I know.” He whispered back, and your eyes fluttered back open when feeling his thumbs brush over your cheeks, wiping away the tears with a concentrated look on his face.

You found yourself unable to look away from him, and once his eyes flickered back up to meet yours, his gaze never wavered either.

It wasn’t until your lips brushed together, after the two of you had absentmindedly leaned in closer to each other, that you finally allowed yourself to look away from each other’s eyes, your eyelids instead fluttering shut as he pressed your lips fully against yours.

Your heart instantly swelled in your chest, your stomach being overtaken by butterflies and for a moment, just for a moment, you felt whole again.

But then you realized where you were, who you were with and what situation you were in, and hurried to pull away, moving your hand up to your lips and shaking your head rapidly.

“No.” You mumbled against your fingers, looking down. “Your parents would never allow it. We can’t.”

“I don’t care.” He scoffed, and as you looked up at him again, you found that his face had now pulled into a nasty scowl again. “They can do what they want, but they’re not going to keep us apart anymore. I won’t let them.”

He was met with only silence, but in that moment nothing else was needed because somehow, the silence always seemed to connect you in a way that words never could.

He pulled your face back to his and kissed you again, and this time, you didn’t pull away.

After that, there was no going back, as he finally admitted to the things you had always hoped would one day become reality.

“I love you. I’m here.”

Tagged: @writing-is-my-guilty-pleasure @peakyhermione @fanficflaneuse @okaydraco @lucillethings

(If you want to be added or removed from the tag list, send me a message, ask or leave a comment)

#draco malfoy #draco malfoy fanfic #draco fanfiction #draco x reader #draco malfoy fic #draco malfoy fanfiction #draco malfoy x reader #draco malfoy imagine #draco imagine

164 notes · View notes

wingsonwashington · 3 years ago

Photo

╰ ❛ 💉 — › Chyler Leigh. female. She/her. ╯ have you met Alexandra Grey yet? this twenty seven old Cancer has been living in the seattle area for four years. She makes a living as a surgical resident, which is best suited for their intelligent, caring, inflexible, and obsessive personality. Cardigan by Tayloy Swift is one of their favorite songs, and they're written by Kimberly, 31, EST, she/her, COVID.

BASIC INFORMATION

Name: Alexandra “Lexie” Caroline Grey

Nickname(s): Lexie, Lex, Little Grey, Lexapedia

Age: 27

Date of Birth: June 30

Pronouns: She/Her

Religion: None practicing

Political Affiliation: Liberal.

Occupation: Fourth Year Surgical Resident

Living Arrangements: Meredith’s attic

Language(s) Spoken: English and French

PHYSICAL APPEARANCE

Face Claim: Chyler Leigh

Hair Color: Light Brown

Eye Color: Dark Brown

Height: 5′7”

Weight: 165 lbs.

Build: Tiny

Tattoos: None presently. Lexie is considering getting a memorial tattoo for her mom.

Piercings: Ears

Clothing Style: Preppy, Cute, Fun, Casual

Usual Expression: Smiling

Distinguishing Characteristics: The photographic memory.

HEALTH

Physical Ailments: None Known

Neurological Conditions: None Known

Allergies: Eggs

Sleeping Habits: Lexie is lucky if she sleeps five hours each night. Life as a surgical resident who wants to have a social life ensures sleep is one of the last things on her mind.

Eating Habits: Lexie is the one who would eat Peanut Butter Cups and juice boxes for lunch if she could sustain that forever. She eats whatever is good in the cafeteria or whatever she can find in the fridge at the frat house. She doesn’t have time to cook for herself, but bake? She will make time for that especially if the recipe involves peanut butter and chocolate.

Exercise Habits: Lexie is likely to be found in a Zumba class 3 times a week, and has tried Yoga a handful of times.

Emotional Stability: It depends on the day. Lexie can be the hardest person you meet, or she can be down in the dumps, especially if she has just broken up with her on again, off again boyfriend, Mark Sloan. She does always try to have a positive and happy demeanor for her patients.

Sociability: Lexie enjoys socializing, especially in groups...at the bar, after work. It is one of her favorite past times. But every now and again, she craves the quiet of the attic and a good book.

Body Temperature: Average

Addictions: Peanut Butter Cups....does that count ;)

Drug Use: None

Alcohol Use: Socially. Lexie’s drink of choice? Malibu Bay Breeze or Tequila Sunrise.

PERSONALITY

Positive Traits: Happy, Intelligent, Kind, Warm, Caring, Compassionate

Negative Traits: Emotional, Obsessive, Self-Centered, Inflexible

Fears: Being alone, not being successful, not keeping Thatcher off the bottle, disappointing her dead mother, being a parent.

Hobbies: Reading, Studying, Sex, Research, Zumba, and Baking.

Habits: Her heart lives in her vagina, need we say more?

FAVOURITES

Weather: Fall

Colour: Purple

Music: Lexie will give anything a listen once, but she tends to stay away from heavy metal and classical. They just aren’t her thing.

Movies: Rom-Coms, Thrillers

Sport: Tennis, baseball, and Mark has taught her all about football

Beverage: Coffee

Food: Peanut Butter Cups

Animal: Polar Bear

FAMILY

Father: Thatcher Grey

Mother: Susan Grey (deceased)

Sibling(s): Molly Thompson, Meredith Grey

Children: None

Pet(s): None

THE LAST SIX MONTHS

· After leaving Mark at the vending machine and telling him she wanted to be happy, Lexie focused solely on her relationship with Jackson. She didn’t even look Mark’s way for close to three months, but one night after a long and successful surgery with Mark, she fell off the Mark Sloan reform wagon.

· After dealing with the plane crash victims, Lexie realized she needed to start therapy again. She began seeing Kathleen Shepherd weekly, but does not discuss falling into Mark’s bed with her. Ever.

· After a night with Mark, Lexie realized how much it wasn’t working with Jackson. They mutually agreed to break it off, but Lexie told herself she was not going to see Mark either. She needed to learn to be happy on her own.

· For a little bit, Lexie focused her time solely on work and spending time with Zola, who she absolutely adores.

· Once again though, Lexie and Mark have fallen into their same patterns, but this time? They have both declared no feelings involved.

#traumaintro #lexie grey #don't be a lady be a legend #tw plane crash #tw cheating #tw death

5 notes · View notes

ourloveisforthelovely · 4 years ago

Text

Fresh Start 4

Harry Potter AU

Link to Chapter 3

Pairings: Sirius Black x Reader

Rating: M

______

The following month a half passed without much excitement. Things seemed to be slowly calming down from all of the “pregnancy discovery” news. Molly had made it her personal mission to make sure that she was always available for last-minute babysitting. She knew that you were miserable with morning sickness the morning after you announced that you were expecting. Molly seemed to show up just when you needed her the most!

This morning, in particular, was the first that you felt halfway decent in a while. It was nice waking up and not having to rush to the bathroom. You lay in bed enjoying the warm bedding while listening to the sounds of Sirius and Remus arguing over how to fix Sirius' motorcycle. It took all you had to not go out into the garden and watch the argument at hand. The moment that Remus told Sirius it was time to hang up the whole bad boy vibe and invest in a muggle car colored a lovely shade of beige. You almost lost it. You wished that you could have seen the expression on Sirius' face at that moment.

You smiled when Harry rolled over and looked at you with a sleepy grin. It still made your heartache at just how much he looked like James! Sometimes, if even for a brief moment, you could imagine that your brother was still alive again.

“Mama!”

Harry squealed, happily. You looked down sadly. Harry had been calling Sirius and yourself “mama” and “dada” for a few weeks. Neither of you had the heart to correct him. The poor boy was too young to understand anyway. Harry would understand in time. He would know how wonderful his mother and father were. If the two of you could be remotely the parents that James and Lily were...you would be thrilled.

“Not sleepy anymore?”

You asked, pulling yourself from your thoughts as Harry giggled. Sirius had put the boy into bed between the two of you the previous night when Harry decided it was time to wake at four am. The two of you were trying to keep Harry in his own room at night but it wasn't working.

“No.”

Harry squealed as you stood up. You quickly dressed before picking the boy up and heading downstairs.

“I think someone is ready for food.”

Harry nodded eagerly and pointed to his mouth.

(Meanwhile)

Remus sat watching Sirius' eyes as he tried to figure out what was going on with his bike.

“You know, there are muggles who fix these sort of things.”

Sirius looked up with an annoyed scowl.

“And let someone else touch her? I think not.”

Remus grinned. That was just the reply that he was looking for. Over the past few weeks, Sirius had been a bit “tense.” Remus was no fool as to why either.

“How is Y/n feeling?”

Sirius leaned back.

“The past two days have been better. She isn't spending all morning throwing up. That has been nice. I think she is a bit tired of me asking if she wants some water. Lucky for us, Molly Weasley turns up like some kind of fairy godmother with stuff to make Y/n feel better and less...mean.”

Remus started laughing.

“She isn't mean.”

Sirius nodded.

“Well, she isn't blaming you for knocking her up. I think this week alone she has told me this is all my fault at least 6 times before she starts crying on me. I just stand there blinking like an idiot.”

Remus had seen you burst into tears a few times of trivial things and had handled it like a champ. That was just Remus Lupin though. He always was able to handle emotional people. He had a feeling that he was about to be needed to handle his emotional friend very soon!

“Don't worry, Sirius. You'll have your normal wife back in 28 weeks.”

Sirius' mouth dropped.

“28 weeks? I have to wait that long?

Remus had to fight back his laughter at the lost and almost desperate expression on Sirius' face.

“It won't seem that long. Do you know what you want yet? Boy or girl?”

Sirius shook his head.

“I don't care. As long as Y/n and the baby are healthy...that is all that I care about.”

“You know if the baby is a girl then you will have to deal with teenage boys one day. I don't think that you will have to think too hard on how we were as teenage boys...”

Sirius' whole face went pale and his eyes widened as he dropped the tool that he was holding. He thought about how awful he was and winced!

“Oh hell!”

Sirius wasn't sure what Remus was talking about. Remus was fine as a teenage boy! He was that perfect boy that every man hoped his daughter would drag home. Sirius on the other hand...well...he was lucky that Fleamont Potter even let him within 12 feet of you!

“This kind of makes me wish that Mr. Potter was alive so I could call him and apologize for having sex with his daughter. All I can say is bless that poor boy that turns up on my doorstep.”

Remus leaned back in his chair with a smile. It was clearly evident that Sirius hadn't even thought about this yet. Remus already felt sorry for the poor baby already if it was a girl. Between Sirius and having a werewolf for a godfather, the poor thing didn't stand a chance in the dating world!

“Lucky for you that is still many years away.”

Sirius rolled his eyes and tried to get back to what he was doing.

“Too soon for my liking.”

He muttered.

(meanwhile)

You stood in the kitchen as Harry eagerly shoved baby oatmeal in his mouth. He eagerly offered you a banana several times. The sound of the doorbell ringing quickly pulled you from your thoughts. You didn't expect any visitors that morning. Opening the door, you froze seeing none other than Walburga Black on the other side. You stood looking at her for a few moments as if making sure your mind wasn't playing games on you.

“Excuse me, are you lost?”

You asked after a few quiet moments. Walburga didn't smile nor did she show any emotion.

“No, I know exactly where I am Y/n Potter.”

You frowned, feeling a cold chill come over you. For years you had dreamed of punching this woman in the face!

“Y/n Black. You do know whose house this is,yeah?”

Walburga blinked a few times when you corrected her. Regulus didn’t tell her about that detail.

“To the same man whose name you have now.”

You had to bite your tongue and repeat I’m a better person over and over in your mind.

“You're perceptive. So, what did we do to win the pleasure of your company?”

It still amazed you how a person could be totally sarcastic to Walburga and it went right over her head! Maybe the lady had no idea what sarcasm was?

“Are you going to invite me in? We are letting flies inside.”

You blinked. The last thing that you really wanted to happen was for Sirius to see his mother. It seemed, however, that you really had no choice. It was probably best to go ahead and get this over with.

“Won't you come…”

“I would love to.”

Walburga interrupted before walking right past you.

“Merlin, I am going to set this bitch on fire.”

You followed Walburga into the kitchen as she sat down at the table. Her cold eyes immediately went to Harry.

“It appears that you were further along than what Regulus believed. This child, however, looks nothing like my son.”

You snorted.

“Well, because he isn’t.”

Walburga’s mouth dropped. Has she heard your corrections? Were you out screwing around on Sirius? Walburga wasn’t surprised. This was just another example as to why you weren’t good enough!

“Excuse me?”

You wanted to laugh at the expression on her haughty face.

“This is my nephew, Harry. We have custody of him. I, however, am pregnant...if you can’t tell.”

Walburga looked relieved as she looked at the slight curve of your stomach.

“I see. I guess it was a bit too difficult for the two of you to inform Orion and myself.”

You frowned.

“Why would it matter to the lot of you? As I remember you disowned your son and my parents took him in.”

“This is our first grandchild.”

You stood to start washing dishes before you hexed the woman.

“He or she will not be practicing dark arts. Sirius has already said no to all of that rubbish.”

You quickly started washing a plate so hard the poor thing snapped. Walburga, meanwhile, sat watching you with a glare.

“What are you doing?”

“When I’m not busy being a wonderful wife I like to fulfill my duties as a domestic goddess.”

Walburga raised an eyebrow.

“Is Sirius too cheap to buy you an elf for these menial chores?”

You put the broken plate down before you threw it. Just who the hell did this woman think she was? You were ready to turn around and start yelling. The sensible side of your brain told you to stop.

“She can’t help it. She’s rich and doesn’t know any better.”

The other side of your brain, however, said.

“Time to smack the bitch!”

“No, he isn’t! I just like to use this handy dandy sponge and the cleaner I made. It takes real skill!”

The sound of the garden door shutting pulled you from your thoughts. You could recognize Sirius’ steps from anywhere. This was about to get ugly!

“Excuse me.”

You said before stepping out of the room. Sirius looked up at you with a playful smirk that said he had one thing on his mind. Before you could say anything, he had you against the wall. You sighed as his mouth closed on your neck. He was going to leave another love bite for his mother to look at.

“Is Harry asleep?”

You shook your head.

“Where’s Remus?”

Sirius chuckled.

“Outside trying to prove me wrong that he's the better mechanic. If you feel up to it, we have time for a quickie.”

As lovely as the idea sounded, you didn’t want Walburga sitting on the other side of the wall listening to the two of you screw each other.

“That sounds lovely but we have a problem.”

Sirius didn’t look up right away.

“Morning sickness?”

You swallowed.

“Hardley. Your mum is here.”

Sirius laughed. That was hilarious! He wasn’t for sure what kind of joke that was but it wasn’t funny.

“I’m not kidding, Sirius! She’s in the kitchen.”

Sirius stood up straight. The happy smile had vanished. Now he reminded you of the boy that you saw every school year at the end of the term. He was the boy that didn't want to go home and was sick the whole time.

“What the hell is she doing here?”

You shrugged.

“She heard about our happy news.”

Sirius rolled his eyes.

“Fucking beautiful.”

He gently let you go before turning and walking into the kitchen. Sure enough, his mother sat at the table looking around with a scowl on her face. Her cold eyes narrowed on him.

“Well, there you are. Your wife is...pleasant.”

Sirius didn’t smile. In fact, he wanted to show zero emotion to anything that Walburga had to say. Maybe if he acted like a robot, she would leave and never return. The past four years without his mum in his life had been wonderful!

“Yeah, she is. What are you doing here?”

Walburga raised an eyebrow.

“No, it's good to see you mum?”

Sirius shook his head.

“No. You haven’t been my mum in four years. Don’t you remember? You kicked me out of the family. I never got to thank you for it. These past four years without the cult has been lovely.”

Sirius was thrilled when Walburga’s cocky smile faded. She quickly resembled the horrible woman who made his life a living hell.

“I don’t think this is a laughing matter, Sirius. I heard that Y/n was pregnant. With this being my first grandchild…”

Sirius held a hand up.

“Hold on! You aren’t allowed around my child.”

“Excuse me?”

Walburga snapped. You, meanwhile, stood watching the two trying to decide who you could drag out.

As if by a prayer, Remus walked in. He froze, staring at the unfolding scene. This was the last thing that Remus ever expected to see! He quickly looked at you, silently assessing if you needed him to step in.

“You heard me. None of you will ever see the kid. I forbid it! Furthermore, how the hell did you find out?”

Walburga shrugged in a little sassier than needed.

“Your brother.”

Sirius glanced at you before looking back at his mother.

“Well, the two of you can just take your so-called good feelings and shove them up your ass. Just get out of here and haunt someone else.”

“Sirius.”

He looked to Remus, who was motioning him forward. Sirius didn’t wait for Walburga to make a comment before turning and storming up the stairs.

You had walked into the kitchen to pick up Harry when the hard rock music started blaring. It took all you had not to smirk. Sirius hadn’t forgotten how to get under his mother’s skin and he wasn’t about to let this moment pass. You slowly turned to your mother in law.

“It's been so kind of you to visit.”

Walburga stormed out of the house in a huff. Remus, meanwhile, walked over.

“I’ll take Harry. You go deal with him.”

You took a breath before walking up the stairs and into your bedroom. Sirius sat on the window seat and was glaring outside. You walked over and wrapped your arms around him from behind.

“Sweetheart…”

“How did Regulus know?”

Sirius asked, coldly. You tensed against him.

“I ran into him before you came home from that job...he kinda….”

Sirius quickly cut you off. “Wait a minute! You told him that you were pregnant before you fucking told me...the father of the kid?”

Sirius quickly stood up; almost tripping you in the process.

“Sirius, he kinda figured it out. I almost threw up on his fancy shoes.”

Sirius rolled his eyes. This was the last thing that he wanted to think about. Regulus could have easily hurt you. Granted, you could have easily hurt him too. It would have been a touch more difficult with Harry in one arm.

“He’s a git.”

You suddenly remembered the awkward conversation with Regulus.

“Somethings going on with him, Sirius.”

“He’s an idiot.”

You rolled your eyes.

“Not what I meant. He seemed off. He was making weird comments about how nothing either side does will make matters...it was just weird. He wasn't death eater Regulus. I wonder if he pissed someone off and is in danger.”

Sirius shrugged, seeming to not care less.

“Play stupid games. Win stupid prizes.”

Sirius didn’t meet your annoyed gaze.

“You don’t care about your little brother at all?”

Sirius shook his head.

“I’m not in that family anymore, remember? So why are you just now telling me about this?”

“Maybe I forgot, you know, with this whole being pregnant, taking care of Harry, and playing new wife thing?”

Sirius sighed.

“I’m sorry...look I’m going out for a bit.”

The last time that he said this, Sirius came home wasted with a bunch of women’s phone numbers shoved in his pockets. Sirius seemed to pick up on your thoughts. He quickly walked over and tilted your face to his.

Sirius felt beyond guilty at the moment. He didn’t mean to make you feel this way again.

“I’m not that guy anymore. I’m taking Remus with me. I just need some time to process this day”

You nodded and went to sit down on the bed. Sirius stood looking at you obviously feeling guilty.

“I can stay, love.”

You shook your head.

“Just go. I need to get Harry down for a nap anyway.”

_____

@cardboardbenmazzello

@brokencasbutt67-writer

@authoressskr

@fandom-trash-worth-it

@hankypranky

@summer-novak

@shaylybaby2032

@emiwrites3reads

@untoldshortsofthefandoms

@shitfaceddaniel

@wontlookaway

@stuckinsaudi1

@mycuddlycorner

@marichromatic

@maggiolim

@shadows-and-padlocked-hearts

@sprnaturallover

@li0nh34rt

@knight-of-gleefulness

#Harry Potter #Harry Potter AU #Sirius Black #Sirius Black x Reader #Reader x Sirius Black #Remus Lupin #James Potter #Lily Evans #regulus black #walburga black #orion black #Ben Barnes as Sirius Black #harry potter fan fiction #molly weasley #Fresh Start #Fresh Start update

31 notes · View notes

halothenthehorns · 3 years ago

Text

TLTNL- EXCESS OF PHLEGM

"Remus, can I speak to you." James snapped before Harry could even think of passing the book along, his tone in no way implying that as a question.

Remus got to his feet slowly and dragged his feet to the hallway, he'd been expecting this, and was almost happy at the delay Lily caused.

"James, I can fight my own battles," she snapped at him, eyeing Remus with more worry than anything as he trudged off. Considering everything that had been going on, it hadn't even crossed her mind to hold any of his comments against him.

"I'm not daft enough to think otherwise," James agreed, flicking his eyes to her and smiling for a moment before going for the stairs himself. "I'd still like a word with him."

Sirius followed as well, and Lily and Harry exchanged wary looks before going into the kitchen and prepping an early lunch.

He may have been expecting it, but Remus was no more pleased to be hearing from these two than they clearly were trying to ask him what his problem was. He hadn't meant to make it so plain there at the end, and bitterly regretted he had such a hard time hiding his emotions around here.

The two exchanged a look before James launched off, "What has gotten into you lately? Picking fights with Lily? Snapping at everyone for the stupidest things? I'm sorry Dumbledore's been acting like a prat lately with everything going on in Harry's time, but you're driving me nuts Moony!"

Remus almost wanted to smile. Prongs had left him perfectly open to either vent about this lesser, though still pressing agitation on his life, or correct him. He considered the first for several moments before finally stating, "Acting a prat? James the man's gone off the world and left the lot of us to rot! The best part is, he's pretending like he hasn't!"

Sirius watched him steadily beat out his rant, and wished he could say more. He couldn't though. He knew Remus looked up to Dumbledore, his idol. To hear of all the things he'd done would be hardest of all on him, like Harry realizing the true nature of the Marauders last year. The difference was they couldn't Floo Dumbledore, ask him to make them feel better about ruining Harry's life, their life.

When Remus was finally done he slumped back against the wall, looking utterly exhausted, but finally one of the lines creasing his face faded away for getting it all out.

"I know Moony," was all Sirius could think to say.

"You should really chat with Harry," the look on James' face made it perfectly clear of the double in there. Of course he could just mean Remus could go to Harry and talk to him about Dumbledore, only those two had such a close connection to the Headmaster and could understand each other...or anything else, like they needed to.

Remus didn't disagree, but he was almost afraid to as well. Afraid that he'd say the wrong thing to him, again. Terrified Harry's promise was wrong, that he vanished from that teenager's life, or worse, that he stayed and only made things worse like he was now. He couldn't bring himself to say this to either of the people he most wanted to though, because they had more of a connection to Harry than he'd ever had a claim to. He wouldn't put anything more in between any of them, this was a problem he had to deal with on his own.

They came back in to find Harry and Lily having a lively discussion about Slughorn.

"I mean, who decides to turn down a job by faking being attacked?"

"Obviously Dumbledore wasn't there to take no for an answer, I can see Slughorn doing something so drastic," Lily said peaceably as she stirred a pan on the stove.

Harry was at the table cutting up some vegetables, by hand of all things, and didn't even seem to notice their entrance with his back to the hallway. He was just as busy keeping Hickory from stealing carrots from his pile as he was chatting with his mother.

"How did Dumbledore even know where Slughorn was, he was on the run and hiding from Death Eaters? And of all things, how did Dumbledore know he was a chair? And how did Dumbledore know he was faking all that? He never even told me why we were there at midnight, I wouldn't want someone popping in on me at that time either."

"I can't begin to imagine what goes through either of those men's minds," Lily sighed with exasperation, dumping the sauce into a pot and giving it a sharp crack with her wand, causing some red wine to start pouring into the mixture as well.

"The least surprising part was that he tore the house apart in less than two minutes, and how he was still trying to put details up as we were walking in-" Harry froze as he went to pass the vegetables to her and saw the others. He didn't even seem sure what expression to make, so settled for an uneasy smile, eyes still flickering to Remus and away just as much as the other two now, guilt heaviest of all he couldn't do anything right by anyone.

"You think he'll ever run out of questions?" Sirius asked as he plopped himself into the chair nearest Harry and kicked his feet back on the table, leaning the chair back.

Easily breaking all tension when Harry gave an already knowing smile, and didn't have to wait for the show his godfather had started.

Lily didn't even glance over her shoulder, merely sent a tripping hex instead and causing him to topple over.

Sirius made several colorful statements as he got himself back to his feet and then harangued Lily about her enforcing such archaic rules. The other three were too busy laughing at them all through the meal to even consider such things as awkwardness, especially as they all got so easily pulled into it themselves.

They went back to reading with the first bit of pleasantness they had all day, and Remus didn't even consider it as he took the book from Harry to begin. He knew he'd have to confront the larger problem, soon, but for now he'd take the blessing of his friend doing what he always did, giving him more time.

Harry and Dumbledore approached the back door of the Burrow, which was surrounded by the familiar litter of old Wellington boots and rusty cauldrons; Harry could hear the soft clucking of sleepy chickens coming from a distant shed. Dumbledore knocked three times and Harry saw sudden movement behind the kitchen window.

Mrs. Weasley's voice could neverosly be heard telling them to declare themselves.

As soon as Dumbledore said who it was, the door opened to reveal her.

She greeted them with surprise, Dumbledore had warned they wouldn't be here until morning, but Dumbledore explained Slughorn had been more persuadable than expected.

"He didn't even want them there!" James balked. "What in the world was his plan involving till sunrise?"

"I'm, grateful, we didn't have to find out," Lily said slowly and not as if she really meant it, it certainly would have been fascinating to hear of more of his other plans that didn't involve Harry being such an enticing return.

Then he greeted Nymphadora.

"Tonks is back!" Sirius cheered at once.

"I can't wait to hear what she was up to," Remus agreed with a cheerful smirk, clearly not able to kick that good mood out now that Sirius had put it in here.

Harry looked around and saw that Mrs. Weasley was not alone, despite the lateness of the hour. A young witch with a pale, heart-shaped face and mousy brown hair was sitting at the table clutching a large mug between her hands.

"What happened to her pink hair?" James pouted. "I liked that."

"Maybe she just got back from business and hasn't even realized she'd like to change it back," Lily shrugged.

Harry thought she looked drawn, even ill, and there was something forced in her smile.

All of them frowned in concern for that. None of them even knew her that well, not even Harry really, but she'd been a little bright spot all of the last book and it was genuinely depressing to hear of even more sobering things going on in this future to someone they so normally would have called cheerful.

Certainly her appearance was less colorful than usual without her customary shade of bubble-gum-pink hair.

She quickly excused herself, thanking Molly for the tea and sympathy.

"Sympathy for what?" Lily muttered, catching on that word and wishing to pull the girl aside herself and have a friendly chat if she could.

Dumbledore asked her not to leave on his account, but she really insisted she couldn't stay,while not meeting his eyes.

"Oooh, what kind of tiff is going on there," Sirius demanded with a touch more interest than was called for. He'd really liked hearing of Tonks and if Dumbledore was yet another obstacle in another person's life, he'd really start struggling not to start acting like Moony earlier and gripe at this mans every doing.

Molly invited her to dinner this weekend, Mad-Eye and Remus would be there.

Sirius let out a righteous bark at once, before jabbing his finger into Moony's face, "aha! You are coming back around, so I don't want to hear another word out of you whining about this!"

"Is this only when I'm in the actual chapter, or just in general you don't want to hear me, because frankly I won't be accommodating either," Remus said with such a stupid smile in place it ruined his sarcasm. He'd honestly convinced himself so much that he'd fall back out of Harry's life without another mention, coming over for a dinner was the best news he'd yet heard.

Harry smiled along with the others for this, but he had a funny feeling in place as he kept that smile. He suddenly wondered if it wasn't Dumbledore, but someone else Tonks was trying to

avoid. Mad-Eye seemed the most likely of those two, being fellow Aurors...right? What could they be fighting about though? Then he pushed the whole thing off, telling himself to stop thinking about things so much, it was likely nothing at all Tonks couldn't work out for herself.

Insisting otherwise, Tonks hurried past Dumbledore and Harry into the yard; a few paces beyond the doorstep, she turned on the spot and vanished into thin air.

"The apparition spot was out by the broom-shed?" Harry questioned.

"You can have it two separate places, the entrance and the departure," Lily explained.

Harry noticed that Mrs. Weasley looked troubled.

Dumbledore chose to leave as well, parting with Harry and telling Molly â€˜your servant,'* before following Tonks, vanishing at precisely the same spot. Mrs. Weasley closed the door on the empty yard and then steered Harry by the shoulders into the full glow of the lantern on the table to examine his appearance.

Molly turned to Harry and first noted how much he'd already grown since she'd last seen him, then asked if he was hungry. Harry agreed he was starving.

Lily made a little tisking noise of disapproval, well remembering Harry saying how little he'd eaten before now and it was his own doing that time. At least he hadn't carried that in here.

As Harry sat down, a furry ginger cat with a squashed face lumped onto his knees and settled there, purring.

"Crookshanks is back!" Sirius cheered with just as much enthusiasm as he had for Tonks, at least a cat couldn't depress him!

"Are you going to do that for everyone who turns up at the Burrow?" James asked curiously.

"I might," Sirius sniffed.

Harry asked Hermione was here as well while happily tickling Crookshanks behind the ,ears.**

Mrs. Weasley agreed she'd arrived the day before yesterday, rapping a large iron pot with her wand.

"Err," Lily couldn't help but say with some general concern. "I know I brought this up your last Christmas, but does Hermione ever spend time with her parents?"

Harry merely shrugged. He'd just been happy to spend the majority of his holiday with both of his friends, he hadn't questioned it farther than that. Ron had sometimes to ask a question about Muggles in general, but Hermione never really spoke about her parents, well, anymore than he did the Dursleys.

It bounced onto the stove with a loud clang and began to bubble at once while she continued everyone else was in bed.

She tapped the pot again; it rose into the air, flew toward Harry, and tipped over; Mrs. Weasley slid a bowl nearly beneath it just in time to catch the stream of thick, steaming onion soup.

James couldn't help but make a little humming noise, that was one of his favorite dishes.

She waved her wand over her shoulder; a loaf of bread and a knife soared gracefully onto the table; as the loaf sliced itself and the soup pot dropped back onto the stove, Mrs.

Weasley sat down opposite him.

She asked him about Slughorn, but Harry had his mouth mostly full of soup and merely nodded. She went on to explain he'd taught her and Arthur,

"I didn't know that," Lily blinked in surprise.

"Kind of fascinating, when you realize how many life spans teachers influence," Remus muttered for himself.

and had been at Hogwarts at least as long as Dumbledore. How had Harry liked him?

Harry shrugged and gave a noncommittal jerk of the head.

She agreed she understood that, he could be charming, but wasn't to everyone's taste. He'd never even given Arthur the time of day, hadn't seen him as much of a highflier.

"Shows how good Slughorn's stupid talent really is," James scoffed.

Just went to show even Slughorn made mistakes. She didn't know if Ron had told him yet, but Arthur had been promoted!

James was the only one not immiedly happy at this, and that was just because he was still making a funny face at having said the same thing as Molly. This was genuinely wonderful news! The man had deserved it long before now!

It could not have been clearer that Mrs. Weasley had been bursting to say this.

"Well I can't really blame her," Lily agreed cheerfully, "I'd be just as bad if my husband even bothered to get a job." James widened his eyes with a look of pure innocence while the couple exchanged a loving smile knowing they would indeed be just as proud, James had certainly not shut up to the only three people who would listen any time she did...well anything.

Harry had at that moment swallowed a large amount of hot soup, searing the inside of his throat, which possibly lead Mrs. Weasley to think his tears of pain were for this.

Sirius did start snickering hysterically at this.

She went on to explain Scrimgeour had opened several new offices to help recent circumstances, and Arthur was now heading the Office for the Detection and Confiscation of Counterfeit Defensive Spells and Protective Objects.

"Much more of a mouthful than his old title," James said in surprise.

"Sounds to me like he's dealing with all kinds of things now, not just Muggle Artifacts, so I'm sure he's more than pleased," Remus agreed.

It was a big job, he had ten people reporting to him now!

Sirius let out a low whistle in surprise, and further concurrence.

Harry asked what exactly that was, and she explained he helped manage artifacts that people kept trying to pass off as real items to protect, when in fact they were more often than not cursed things for a quick buck. He was more busy than ever, and it was silly to miss his Muggle rubbish.

Sirius had been reading with more interest than anything, up until the very end, where he couldn't help but snicker.

"Honestly, it's as if the man can't have a hobby," James agreed lightly.

Mrs. Weasley ended her speech with a stern look, as if it had been Harry suggesting that it was natural to miss spark plugs.

"You mean it's not?" Sirius demanded. "What on Earth has my life come to!"

"More spark plugs, apparently, and I can't disagree you need them to the head," Remus smirked.

"Thank you Moony," Sirius nodded along, "that's just what I wanted to hear."

Harry asked if he was still at work, and she uneasily agreed he was, and in fact running late.

She glanced to her clock, which showed all nine Weasleys on each hand, all of which were pointed to mortal peril.

James had to fight very hard against a surprised snort of laughter, and only just managed it from the fear stopping his breath short. What did that mean?! Was it because Harry was there? Surely not!

She noticed his staring and told it had been like that since You-Know-Who had been out in the open.

Lily tried to release a breath like that was somehow reliving news, but it wasn't all that convincing, they all had the same expression in place like they'd been thinking the same thing.

She couldn't check if it was only her family, she didn't know anyone else with a clock like it- She cut off in surprise as they watched Arthur's hand moved to traveling, and moments later, home.

She moved to the backdoor, but kept it shut to make sure it was him.

He agreed it was, but pointed out he'd say the same if he were a Death Eater. She still needed to ask the question.

"At least some families practice that," Remus gave a surprised laugh.

"Just because we don't do it at every door doesn't make us lax," Sirius rolled his eyes at him.

Remus failed to point out the Order seemed to disagree after losing another of its members.

After some exasperation she asked him what his dearest ambition was, and his response was to learn how airplanes stayed up.

Lily couldn't help a surprised giggle at that, finding more each passing time he spoke how much fun Arthur would likely have interrogating a Muggle if he had more of a chance.

She made to open the door for him, but apparently he was holding the other knob, as he refused to let it go until he asked what did she like to be called when they were alone?

All three boys made little ugh noises of entirely not wanting to know that, and Harry even almost went so far as to plug his ears before Sirius just got it done with.

Even by the dim light of the lantern Harry could tell that Mrs. Weasley had turned bright red; he himself felt suddenly warm around the ears and neck, and hastily gulped soup, clattering his spoon as loudly as he could against the bowl. It did nothing to help him hear the answer.

Lily offered a reluctant smile amidst all of the boys muttering how much they hadn't wanted to know that, "well, I'll give the man credit, no Death Eater would likely think to ask such a thing."

"Doesn't mean we wanted to know," Harry stated, as red faced in here as he was then.

"They're not meant for you to know, Arthur doesn't know you're there yet," James reminded.

"Then I'll happily pretend like I never found out," Sirius grumbled before moving on loudly.

He finally allowed the door to be open, Mrs. Weasley saying in exasperation she didn't know why he insisted on going through that every time he came home. If he were a Death Eater, he would have just blown down the door, not bother impersonating anyone.

"The point of it is to think up questions and answers they wouldn't think to ask in that scenario," Lily wisely endowed to Harry's suddenly uneasy look.

He nodded, but the thought hadn't been what if Mr. Weasley was right, it was the act itself he couldn't shake off. He didn't want to imagine what he would have told someone to save the life of another being tortured, the idea was too horrible to consider even as he forced his mind to ignore the echoing screams from a memory he hoped he was misunderstanding.

Arthur reminded as a Ministry employe, he needed to set an example for their kids. Plus, what if he really had been a Death Eater.

"His kids are all apparently asleep, who's he setting an example for?" Sirius snorted.

"And Merlin help those two if Molly answers that around their kids too," James agreed.

He smelt the onion soup then and looked hopefully towards the table, where he finally spotted Harry.

The two greeted each other cheerfully before he went into some details about work, like someone selling Metamorph-Medals. A thousand disguises for ten Galleons!

"A shame we can't really have something like that," Harry muttered, it would make his Transfiguration classes a lot more smooth he was sure.

All that really happened when they were put on was turning orange and sprouting tentacles, as if St. Mungo's didn't have enough to be getting on with.

Lily scoffed in further disgust of people, depressed this was more news than something she'd had plenty of time fixing herself on her time off.

Mrs. Weasley hesitantly said that sounded like the kind of thing the twins would do.

"They would never," James defended at once. "Even in school they knew when not to mess around."

Lily just rolled her eyes at him. Molly was just being a concerned mother, and Lily could think of several instances where they'd been idiots, and practical idiots.

Arthur at once said they were doing no such thing, they knew better.

Molly caught Harry yawning then and sent him off to bed,

"Aww," Sirius muttered in genuine disappointment, he was rather enjoying hearing about Arthur's job.

he'd be staying in the twins room.

"Why?" Remus asked in concern at once.

Harry asked where they were.

"Oh, I meant what's wrong with Ron's room, but that works too," Remus muttered.

She told they were sleeping above their shop in Diagon Alley, they apparently needed to with how busy they were.

All of them beamed at the thought, though unsurprised. This was by far the best thing a Potter had ever invested in!

She really hadn't approved at first,

"Didn't approve," Sirius repeated with an eye roll, finding that far too low brow for her trashing their things and telling them at every opportunity what wasted potential they were.

but they did seem to have a flair for business.

Harry called a goodnight to Mr. Weasley as he followed Molly upstairs, glancing one more time at the clock, all nine hands now back to mortal peril.

Lily couldn't help nibbling at her lip again, glancing fearfully at Harry and away with more questions for this poor family that she knew he couldn't answer.

Fred and George's bedroom was on the second floor.

James couldn't help but to start bouncing eagerly in anticipation, he'd been wanting to hear details about the twins room since he'd first heard of Ron's!

Mrs. Weasley pointed her wand at a lamp on the bedside table and it ignited at once, bathing the room in a pleasant golden glow. Though a large vase of flowers had been placed on a desk in front of the small window, their perfume could not disguise the lingering smell of what Harry thought was gunpowder.

"A memorable entrance indeed," Sirius blinked in surprise before they all started snickering.

A considerable amount of floor space was devoted to a vast number of unmarked, sealed cardboard boxes, amongst which stood Harry's school trunk. The room looked as though it was being used as a temporary warehouse.

"It probably is," Remus agreed.

Hedwig hooted happily at Harry from her perch on top of a large wardrobe, then took off through the window; Harry knew she had been waiting to see him before going hunting.

"Aww," Lily cooed, smiling over at their own bright orange screech owl, Click, who more often than not chose to live off of the owl treats than hunt.

Harry bade Mrs. Weasley good night, put on pajamas, and got into one of the beds. There was something hard inside the pillowcase. He groped inside it and pulled out a sticky purple-and-orange sweet, which he recognized as a Puking Pastille.

"Hopefully not a sign of the rest of this book," James muttered, remembering several nauseating times already from Harry's past.

Smiling to himself, he rolled over and was instantly asleep.

Seconds later, or so it seemed to Harry, he was awakened by what sounded like cannon fire as the door burst open.

"I think Ginny realized he was there," Sirius couldn't help but tease, though the tiny little girl fawning over Harry had been replaced with the formidable fifteen year old telling his godson he wasn't leaving without her in that forest in his mind, so the joke held no weight.

"Be fair, Hermione's been known to attack hug him as well," James chuckled while Harry ignored them both.

Sitting bolt upright, he heard the rasp of the curtains being pulled back: The dazzling sunlight seemed to poke him hard in both eyes. Shielding them with one hand, he groped hopelessly for his glasses with the other.

He blurrily demanded what was going on, while a loud voice shouted they hadn't known he was here so early! Then Harry got a sharp blow to his head.

A girl reprimanded Ron not to hit him.

"Honestly, this really is a kind awakening, you don't want to know how these two have gotten me out of a bed," Remus rolled his eyes at Harry's face, a mix of pleased at his friends again and severe agitation with such an abrupt awakening.

Harry's hand found his glasses and he shoved them on, though the light was so bright he could hardly see anyway. A long, looming shadow quivered .in front of him for a moment; he blinked and Ron Weasley came into focus, grinning down at him.

They asked how he was, and Harry said never better while rubbing the top of his head.

"A much kinder response than I've ever given," Sirius chuckled.

Harry asked what time it was, and Ron said just past noon, their mum had only just told them he was here.

Hermione asked how it had been with the Muggles, had they treated him okay?

"Just brushing right past he's hardly gone to bed then," Lily shook her head, but found that a relevant enough question she didn't blame Hermione. They hadn't exactly been keeping better hours around here anyways.

Harry said same as usual, he hadn't really spent much time there thankfully.

Hermione, was scrutinizing Harry as though he was sickening for something. He thought he knew what was behind this, and as he had no wish to discuss Sirius's death or any other miserable subject at the moment,

"I can not blame you," Sirius said extra loudly to emphasize he wanted the same.

asked if he'd missed breakfast?

Ron promised a tray was coming up for him, then asked what he'd really been up to.

Harry didn't get it, and Ron told him to stop messing around, he'd been with Dumbledore!

"That always sounds far more exciting than it turns out to be," Lily shook her head.

Harry told that they'd only been getting a teacher out of retirement, and Ron looked disappointed as he began they'd thought- then Hermione gave him a warning look and he finished they'd thought it would be that.

"Well he's gotten much better at that picking up on things," James laughed.

"Getting a teacher out of retirement would be top of my list of things I thought you'd be doing too," Sirius rolled his eyes.

"Why'd Hermione want him not to ask about that though?" Remus was surprised. "Harry's never not told them what he's been up to.

"Maybe Hermione thinks that's a sensitive topic too," Lily rolled her eyes.

It made sense they'd need a new Defense teacher, what had he been like?

"It's nice to have more foreknowledge than the teenagers for once," Sirius laughed hard at that one.

"Technically we only know they're wrong about their assumption, not who the new Defense teacher is," Remus pointed out.

"Must you ruin all my fun?" Sirius rolled his eyes.

Harry said he looked a bit like a walrus, and he used to be Head of Slytherin.

"About sums him up as far as I'm concerned," James agreed.

Then he asked Hermione if something was wrong?

She was watching him as though expecting strange symptoms to manifest themselves at any moment. She rearranged her features hastily in an unconvincing smile.

"What is her problem this morning?" Sirius asked in exasperation.

"Harry's interrupting her and Ron's room the past three weeks?" Remus offered under his breath, causing Sirius to both snort and smile innocently, and Remus to hurry on before explaining the joke. Neither thought Harry would find it funny.

She said no of course not! Then quickly asked what kind of teacher he'd be?

Harry just said couldn't be worse than Umbridge.

"He's got me there," Sirius sighed, and there used to be a time Slughorn was his least favorite teacher, but Snape had already trumped that, now the man seemed like a blessing after that frosted catnip.

A voice from the doorway interrupted there was certainly someone worse than Umbridge.

"I find that hard to agree," Lily said at once with a disparaging look at her sons right hand.

Ron's younger sister slouched into the room, looking irritable, but still gave Harry a hi.

"That's certainly a contrast than glowing like the sun upon first meeting you," James smiled slightly, though it was just a bit saddening to hear of this girl's growing up more than he'd got to witness his own son doing so.

Ron asked what her problem was, and she shouted she was being driven mad!

Hermione sympathetically asked what had been done now?

Ginny returned she kept being spoken to like she was three!

Hermione agreed she was so full of herself.

"This is just rude, playing the pronoun game right in front of us," Sirius grumbled as this conversation just kept carrying on.

"I'm not sure who they could even be talking about," Remus agreed, "doesn't seem like Molly."

"Certainly not Tonks, who's the only other girl we've seen over there," James agreed, completely baffled.

"Maybe it's still someone new," Lily shrugged as she waved them on.

Harry was astonished to hear Hermione talking about Mrs. Weasley like this and could not blame Ron for saying angrily they needed to lay off for five seconds.

"Ron joining in on this just made it more interesting," Sirius didn't try very hard to fight off a smirk.

Ginny snapped of course he'd defend her, he couldn't get enough of her!

This seemed an odd comment to make about Ron's mother.

Harry scowled at their collective snorts and grumbled they all thought themselves so smart, he had just woken up!

He had just asked who they were speaking of when again someone came in the door.

Harry instinctively yanked the bedcovers up to his chin so hard that Hermione and Ginny slid off the bed onto the floor.

"They kind of deserved it after your morning," James chuckled.

A young woman was standing in the doorway, a woman of such breathtaking beauty that the room seemed to have become strangely airless. She was tall and willowy with long blonde hair and appeared to emanate a faint, silvery glow. To complete this vision of perfection, she was carrying a heavily laden breakfast tray.

"Err," most of them muttered, as this cleared up nothing. Harry wasn't being of much help, still blinking spastically as if he had a bright light in his eyes. Sirius though well remembered a girl of this description, and the next line only magnified that expression.

A girl in a thick French accent greeted ˜Arry, it had been too long!

"Oh, it's Fleur!" Remus yelped.

James let out a surprised whistle as this registered, "wow, her and Bill must be getting on really well for her to already be hanging around his house this much."

Lily was still rolling her eyes at Sirius for not just telling them this when he'd realized it.

As she swept over the threshold toward him, Mrs. Weasley was revealed, bobbing along in her wake, looking rather cross. Pointing out there was no need for this, she was doing it herself.

Flure said it was no problem, she'd wanted to come see him! Gabrielle would be so delighted about this as well.

"Merlin, how many people do they have crammed into that house?" Lily asked with some concern for this declaration.

"Bill and her are likely just there visiting with her, I doubt they're staying there," James shrugged.

Harry asked she was here to.

Flure corrected next summer, when the- then she stopped in surprise he didn't know.

"How could he know, he's literally just awoken," Remus reminded, clearly still far more against this than anything.

Her great blue eyes widened and she looked reproachfully at Mrs. Weasley, who said they hadn't a chance to tell him yet.

"She doesn't seem particularly excited for it," Lily noticed, a few things popping to mind.

Fleur turned back to Harry, swinging her silvery sheet of hair so that it whipped Mrs. Weasley across the face.

"Endearing," Sirius snickered.

Announcing her and Bill were to be married!

"Ah, well I was right," James smirked.

"Wonder what's got Molly so wound up about it," Sirius shrugged without much concern.

"Her first baby's starting his own family, I'm sure she's going through all sorts of things," Lily told, eyeing Harry's ring with something very acute to how Molly would be feeling, while unable to stop a pleased little smile of her own for these circumstances.

Harry just said oh blankly. He could not help noticing how Mrs. Weasley, Hermione, and Ginny were all determinedly avoiding one another's gaze.

Lily couldn't help but understand those girls, she hadn't thought much of Fleur either until Harry had gotten to know her a bit better.

He congratulated her, and she swooped down upon him and kissed him on each cheek while continuing Bill was very busy with his job for now so he invited her over here to get to know his family, though there wasn't much to do unless you liked cooking and chickens.

"Should I be worried she thinks things are going to be more exciting with him around?" Remus went wide eyed with some genuine concern for that.

"She met Harry when he entered the tournament he shouldn't, I can't blame her," Sirius reminded without any enthusiasm.

She waved him goodbye and bid him enjoy his breakfast before leaving.

Ginny whispered as soon as she left Mum hated her.

Molly snapped at once she did not, she just thought they were rushing into this engagement!

"Well I can't say a word," Lily muttered with a gleaming smile. She never would have thought herself the kind to marry right after school and have a family started, and Bill would be about that same age. She wouldn't change her life for anything though, and would of course caution her own child not to do the same.

Ron pointed out they knew each other for a year, still staring groggily at the door.

"I think someone's still got a Veela infatuation," Sirius said wisely.

Molly said that certainly wasn't long enough! People were doing this across the country, all this uncertainty with You-Know-Who! It was the same last time, people eloping left, right, and center.

"Yes. And?" James asked with an unconcerned smirk as he fought the compulsion to go over to his wife just to take her hand.

"Prongs, you are not the example to be setting for anyone," Remus scoffed.

"Oh, and you are?" Sirius challenged.

"You're all idiots, so I don't know what you're comparing," Lily reminded.

Ginny reminded as well as her own parents, and Molly went slightly red before pointing out they were made for each other.

"Right," James drew out the word defiantly, Molly had just turned herself into a bit of a hypocrite, again.

Whereas Bill and Fleur didn't have a thing in common. He was down to earth and hard working, where as she-

Was a cow, Ginny happily inserted. He loved adventure and glamour, probably why he fell for Phlegm.

They all snorted in surprise, that having been the last thing they'd expect Ginny to call anyone.

Mrs. Weasley snapped at her daughter not to call her that as Harry and Hermione laughed.

"I don't see where she gets off telling Ginny that," Harry said a bit defensively, "she was just bad mouthing Fleur as well."

"Do as I say, not as I do," Sirius shrugged.

She went back downstairs then, while Ron was still shaking his head like he was punch-drunk.

Harry asked didn't he get used to it with her over here so much?

Ron agreed mostly, but not when she just jumped out like that.

"It's the Yule Ball all over again," Remus snickered.

"I do hope Fleur's told Bill about that exciting tale," Sirius agreed.

Hermione furiously called him pathetic, striding away from Ron as far as she could go and turning to face him with her arms folded once she had reached the wall.

"Never mind, they're still squabbling, and ignoring the fun side of acting like a married couple," Remus muttered.

Ginny protested he couldn't want her around forever? Mum was going to find a way to stop it.

"Oh, she wouldn't go that far," Lily disagreed. "She may not approve, and I'm sure she's told Bill as much, but I can't imagine her standing in his way like that."

"I can," James scowled, well remembering her harshness of the twins, and his own best mate last time she'd been around.

Harry asked how she'd managed that, and Hermione explained she kept trying to have Tonks around, like she hoped Bill would fall for her instead.

Ginny agreed she'd much rather have her in the family.

"Yeah, I can see it," Sirius grinned.

Harry just laughed, having an odd feeling this was in fact the exact opposite of what was going on, but not quite far off either?

Ron didn't buy it, no bloke in his right mind would fancy Tonks when Fleur was around.

"Oh now that's not fair," Remus frowned for that. "I've much more enjoyed hearing about her than some pretty French girl."

"Got to agree with Moony on that one, she'd be much more fun to have around," Sirius nodded.

Tonks is okay-looking when she wasn't doing stupid things to her hair and her nose,

"I thought that was when she was at her best," Remus snipped.

"Go for the girl with a sense of humor," James agreed, very purposely looking to his wife who was snickering along.

Hermione agreed Tonks was even more intelligent, being an Auror.

Harry contradicted Fleur had been in the Triwizard Tournament, that had to take some brains.

"Intelligence wasn't a factor for that Harry," Sirius snorted in surprise.

"Plus, she came in last," James agreed.

"Oh stop, the lot of you, we're not having a contest over this," Lily fought to straighten her face and scold.

Hermione snapped not him as well!

Ginny scornfully asked if he liked the way she said ˜Arry?

Harry, now regretting having spoken at all, tried to say Phlegm, err, Fleur-

"Apparently Ginny's nickname was catchier than I first thought," Sirius snickered.

but Ginny just interrupted she wanted Tonks in the family.

Ron pointed out she hadn't been much fun lately, acting more like Moaning Myrtle the past few times she'd been around.

"Do they know something about that?" Lily asked, her concern for this returning at once.

"Let's find out," Sirius agreed.

Hermione snapped that wasn't fair, she still hadn't gotten over it! He was her cousin!

Sirius blanched in surprised, that had not been the answer he'd been expecting!

"Nah, surely that's not it," James tried to say casually, though the hitch in his voice made that anything but. He couldn't even continue, but looked away from everyone, despising his mind for reliving those last few moments all over again.

Sirius muttered a bit at Hermione still managing to bring this up before pressing on for the fifth time already about this.

Harry's heart sank. They had arrived at Sirius. He picked up a fork and began shoveling scrambled eggs into his mouth, hoping to deflect any invitation to join in this part of the conversation.

"Food has been known to solve many a problem," Remus agreed while trying to examine his nails and ignoring the ringing in his ears.

Ron scoffed that was ridiculous, they'd barely known each other, he'd been in Azkaban half her life and their families never met.

"Close enough to the truth," Lily whispered, watching Sirius' face drain of all color for being further reminded of this. He'd probably spent more time laughing about Tonks in here than he ever had with her.

Hermione snapped that wasn't the point, she thought it was her own fault he'd died.

Harry asked how Tonks would work that out despite himself.

"Yeah, I thought I took the blame for everything," Sirius happily falsified his voice to mock Harry's when trying to say that. For some reason his godson didn't appreciate the attempt.

Hermione reminded she'd been the last one fighting Bellatrix before it happened.

Ron said that was stupid, but Hermione reminded it was survivors guilt. She'd heard Lupin had tired to talk her around,

Harry couldn't help making a funny noise at that, though he wasn't sure what it was. Not quite laughter for Hermione's assumption.

but she'd been really down, having trouble with her Metamorphosing!

"Her what?" They yelped in genuine concern.

She hadn't been changing her appearance at will, probably shock.

"Now I'm really convinced something's wrong, and it's not me," Sirius' frown turned heavier than ever for his poor little cousins health.

"I'm sure that's the first time you've ever said that," Remus tried to playfully snip, but it fell flat. If it wasn't having to hear about Sirius, it was some other travesty happening in this future, and Tonks really was a light they could have used right now.

Harry was surprised that could happen, but Hermione said she was sure it could if one was really depressed.

"I can see it," Lily murmured uneasily. "Magic can have an affect on your state of mind, so I suppose the physical aspects would also be a bit touched."

"Whatever it is, I hope someone's trying to help," Remus huffed, still more worried than anything he wasn't being of any good to the Order even if he was clearly still around in some way.

Molly popped back in to ask Ginny to come help her with lunch.

"No, the conversation can't go on without her!" James dramatically wailed, causing the others a fresh burst of laughter for theatrics at least.

Ginny protested she was talking! Mrs. Weasley wouldn't hear it and said now! Ginny huffed she just didn't want to be alone with Phlegm, then swung her long red hair around in a very good imitation of Fleur and pranced across the room with her arms held aloft like a ballerina.

"A sight to behold I'm sure," Sirius forced a chipper mood again as well to go along with Prongs while Harry genuinely gave an affectionate smile for the show.

Harry took advantage of the temporary silence to eat more breakfast.

"A worthy cause," Remus chucked.

Hermione was peering into Fred and George's boxes, though every now and then she cast sideways looks at Harry. Ron, who was now helping himself to Harry's toast, was still gazing dreamily at the door.

She pulled a small telescope out of one and asked what it was.

Ron cautioned to be careful, though he wasn't sure. If Fred and George had left it behind, probably meant it wasn't ready for the shop.

"We all know what their last tests were like," Lily agreed with a small smile.

Speaking of his brothers, Harry asked if Percy had come around yet?

Lily perked up the most for this answer, the others were clearly still far more disgusted he'd even done such a thing.

Ron said nope.

Harry was shocked, Voldemort was back in the open now, he had to admit his parents were right.

"Clearly that's not enough for him to admit he was wrong of all things!" Siris snapped.

Hermione said Dumbledore had offered something along the lines of it was easier to forgive others for being wrong than right.

Ron agreed that was the mental sort of thing he'd say.

Harry conversationally put in he'd be taking private lessons with him this year.

Ron choked on a bit of toast and Hermione gasped, both shocked he'd kept that quiet!

"When exactly was he supposed to insert that into the conversation? When he was getting socked in the head, or Ron was drooling over Fleur?" James chuckled, though he knew he would have been just as bad if that had been dropped at any time.

Ron at once wondered where he, his voice tailed away. Harry saw him and Hermione exchange looks.

"Well they've clearly been having conversations without you again," Sirius pouted.

"Been doing that last year as well, and I'd be happy for them, if it weren't about me," Harry sighed.

Harry laid down his knife and fork, his heart beating rather fast considering that all he was doing was sitting in bed. Dumbledore had said to do it. ... Why not now?

"Because it would have been nice to go a whole five minutes without thinking about it," James sighed unhappily, but didn't begrudge Harry getting this out of the way either rather than dwelling on it his own some more.

He fixed his eyes on his fork, which was gleaming in the sunlight streaming into his lap, and began explaining those lessons had something to do with that prophecy.

Neither Ron nor Hermione spoke. Harry had the impression that both had frozen. He continued, still speaking to his fork,

"It's only polite, you should involve the utensils for all they do," Sirius nodded along while Remus gave him a light smack before he continued him on.

they knew the one, from the Department of Mysteries.

"Not a lot of other prophecies you could be referring to," James muttered agreement.

Hermione whispered it had been smashed, while Ron tried to interrupt the Daily Prophet had said, but Hermione shushed him.

"Hermione's allowed to interrupt but he's not?" Lily gave a halfhearted giggle.

Harry agreed he'd read those articles, and the prophet had it right, then he quoted the last lines for them, neither could live while the other survived.

"Is that really the only part your grasped on?" Lily demanded, wringing her own hands in an effort not to hold her son closer. "You've had experience with at least one other, surely you know not to take them at such face value!"

Harry couldn't bring himself to look at her, fight back, or contradict at all. He wished there were some other interpretation he was missing, but it all felt so inevitable it merely ate away at him what they'd think of him when it came to pass.

The three of them gazed at one another in silence for a moment. Then there was a loud bang and Hermione vanished behind a puff of black smoke.

Sirius startled a bit, before he burst out laughing. "Well, I guess we know what that," he went back and checked what exactly it was Hermione was holding, "telescope did!"

"The opposite of helped you to see, I like it," James chuckled in agreement.

The boys rushed to her in surprise, but she was already stepping out of the smoke, waving a hand in front of her face now with a black eye, gasping it had punched her!

"Oh, even better!" Remus yelped in surprise, still snickering delightedly at the gag.

Sure enough, they now saw a tiny fist on a long spring protruding from the end of the telescope.

Ron, who was plainly trying not to laugh,

No one was bothering with that in here.

promised her his mum could fix that.

Hermione said not to worry about that now,

"Sure she wouldn't have said that under any other circumstances," Lily snorted.

while rushing to Harry's side. They'd wondered if it was something like this, after all Lucius had said,

"It's no wonder the Prophet put this together, apparently everyone just knew this was going to happen," Harry sighed.

"Not if you don't want it to!" James reminded so forcefully Harry had to remind himself not to jump. "You can make your future whatever you want it to be!"

Harry glanced at him then, at all of them, and it really hit him why they were all so against this prophecy. Not because of his destiny being entwined with Voldemort, but because they refused to believe it was so inevitable Harry would be the one to do it. They just wanted him to have his own future, not be forced into this like Voldemort had done to them so many years ago, or so soon from now. He held tight to that knowledge, actually smiling as he promised, "Well, I'm sure you'll see to it it never gets this far."

"Absolutely," Lily agreed with all the confidence in the world.

She whispered if he was scared?

He admitted he had been, but now it felt like he'd always known he was going to face him at the end.

Sirius had to bite hard at his tongue to convince himself not to tell Harry that didn't have to define him, least of all allow someone else to tell him so! If he chose never to face Voldemort again he'd tear away anyone who tried to stop him.

Ron eagerly jumped on the topic of Dumbledore's lessons, saying he wouldn't be doing that if he thought Harry didn't have a chance.

"As eloquent as ever that one," Remus frowned more for the way he phrased it than disagreeing.

Hermione agreed he was probably going to learn powerful countercurses and anti-jinxes.

"I wouldn't really think so," Lily tugged at her hair in thought. "Voldemort is one of the most knowledgeable wizards there is, it must be how he's gotten as far as he has in his conquest. Not just anyone can come back from what he did after all, so it should be something more along the lines of other ways to defeat him than outright spells."

"Your idea has merits, but teaching him how to turn those statues into impervious shields wouldn't go awry either," James decided.

Harry did not really listen. A warmth was spreading through him that had nothing to do with the sunlight; a tight obstruction in his chest seemed to be dissolving. He knew that Ron and Hermione were more shocked than they were letting on, but the mere fact that they were still there on either side of him, speaking bracing words of comfort, not shrinking from him as though he were contaminated or dangerous, was worth more than he could ever tell them.

Lily sighed lovingly for her son, still as oblivious as he was at eleven. No one had thought this for a second anymore than they'd believed Ron and Hermione would take his cloak back at Fluffy's door. The smile on his face still showed otherwise, if not double more so because of those around him now.

She finished a bit anxious at least he knew of one class he'd be taking this year, wondering aloud when their OWL results would show up.

Harry distractedly said some time today, and Hermione shrieked!

"I think Hermione actually just had kittens," Sirius chuckled at such a reaction.

"To be fair, this is the most important moment of her life," Remus lightly mocked.

She leapt to her feet and darted down the stairs at once. When Harry arrived ten minutes later, fully dressed and carrying his empty breakfast tray, it was to find Hermione sitting at the kitchen table in great agitation, while Mrs. Weasley tried to lessen her resemblance to half a panda.

"A memorable depiction I shall never forget," James snickered.

Muttering to herself as she examined a text how her bruise wouldn't budge, she'd never come across this before!

Ginny agreed it was probably part of the twins trick so it wouldn't come off.

"I'd trust her on that," Sirius said a little to knowingly, and Harry wasn't sure he wanted to know when his godfather had tired much the same thing on anyone else.

Hermione squeaked it had to! She couldn't look like this forever!

Mrs. Weasley soothed they'd figure out something, while Fleur inserted Bill had told her how amusing Fred and George were.

"I'm guessing Bill wasn't on the end of many of their pranks then," Lily smiled.

"Or he actually does find them funny and can laugh along," James pointed out.

Hermione snapped she could hardly breathe from laughing at it!

"Those twins really should consider themselves lucky they aren't there for this," Sirius said while still unable to wipe away a smile for this imagined carnage. "We'd have an epic war about the house, considering this is the first time she's fallen victim to them personally."

"It's a miracle it never happened in school," Remus agreed.

She jumped up and started walking round and round the kitchen, twisting her fingers together and pleading with Mrs. Weasley she was sure no owls had come this morning?

Molly promised she'd have noticed, while Hermione barely heard her, still muttering about how she knew she'd messed up Ancient Runes, she'd certainly made one serious mistranslation.

"I never had the class, so I don't know what she's on about," Sirius went wide eyed with innocent curiosity.

"Because I missed this," Lily told him blandly while he continued on, high on his own cleverness.

And her Defense Against the Dark Arts practical was no good at all. She thought Transfiguration went all right at the time, but looking back-

"She O'd everything," James stated as if noticing the weather.

"She can't be entirely perfect, she might have gotten an E in Defense, especially if she's freezed again." Remus said fairly.

Ron barked at her to shut it, she'd be walking away with eleven Outstanding Owls.

Hermione wailed she had failed everything!

"Nah, then we'd know she got Malfoy's," Sirius said brightly.

Harry asked what happened if that were true, and Hermione told you were to have a meeting with Professor McGonagall, she'd asked at the end of last term.

"Whom I'm sure laughed hysterically first," Lily shook her head affectionately.

"Though I don't think any student has ever failed every single OWL," James properly explained. "You do need to revisit with your head of house to further discuss your career options though, if you've happened to not get a grade that didn't align with your path."

"Or you can have the option to retake it, and have to pay to do so, same as if you needed an OWL grade for a course you didn't take," Remus told.

Harry nodded, as he considered all of this, knowing no grade in the world would get him into a class with Snape again...but maybe Slughorn? He certainly didn't feel very worried about his future as an Auror still hanging.

Harry's stomach squirmed. He wished he had eaten less breakfast.

Fleur chose to explain that at Beauxbatons, they took those grades after six years, not five,

"I can see both sides to that," Lily said curiously. "If you wait until your sixth year, then you've an extra year to study for the classes you really want to excel in-"

"But there's no year in between taking two major exams for your life," James happily butted in with the other side.

"Well Fleur always thought her school was better, so I'm sure she'd be happy to rebuttal," Sirius shrugged, not wanting to hear either, just happy he'd never have to take another test again.

Fleur's words were drowned in a scream. Hermione was pointing through the kitchen window. Three black specks were clearly visible in the sky, growing larger all the time.

Harry was rubbing at his ear but looking a little grey, while the others all lit up with so much excitement to hear this they couldn't even laugh at Hermione's overreaction.

The three students huddled worriedly around the window as the birds descended, Mrs. Weasley having to squeeze past them to get the window open where they each landed in front of their carriers.

Harry moved forward. The letter addressed to him was tied to the leg of the owl in the middle. He untied it with fumbling fingers. To his left, Ron was trying to detach his own results; to his right, Hermione's hands were shaking so much she was making her whole owl tremble.

"I'm sure the poor birds have had worse done to them, like being vomited on," Sirius said slyly.

"I regret ever telling you that," Remus grumbled.

Nobody in the kitchen spoke. At last, Harry managed to detach the envelope. He slit it open quickly and unfolded the parchment inside.

Ordinary Wizarding Level Results

Pass Grades

Outstanding (O)

Exceeds Expectations (E)

Acceptable (A)

Fail Grades

Poor (P)

Dreadful (D)

Troll (T)

Sirius honestly skipped right past all of that nonsense, they already knew that.

Harry James Potter has achieved:

Astronomy A

Care of Magical Creatures E

Charms E

Defense Against the Dark Arts O

Divination P

Herbology E

History of Magic D

Potions E

Transfiguration E

"Congratulations!" James cheered while Lily did a little whoop of joy for him. Harry honestly found it hard to believe he'd done so well, much better than he ever would have given himself credit for in all the classes that mattered.

"Looks like McGonagall's Auror training is going to be completely unneeded, you managed all that yourself!" Sirius bounced happily in place.

"I'm still stunned stupid he got an E in Potions! It's hard to believe he learned anything in that class!" Remus looked struck dumb.

"Gee, thanks," Harry laughed lightly, though he didn't at all disagree.

Harry read the parchment through several times, his breathing becoming easier with each reading. It was all right: He had always known that he would fail Divination, and he had had no chance of passing History of Magic, given that he had collapsed halfway through the examination,

"Nobody cares about that class anyways," James waved off at once, fighting back the compulsion to scream some more at the mention of that particular exam.

but he had passed everything else! He ran his finger down the grades . . . he had passed well in Transfiguration and Herbology, he had even exceeded expectations at Potions! And best of all, he had achieved "Outstanding" at Defense Against the Dark Arts!

"No surprise there!" Sirius puffed up his chest. "He's been a natural at that from the start!"

"You did extremely well, you should hear that no matter how unsurprising it is," Lily told him gently as well as a rebuke to Sirius, who simply grinned in agreement rather than replying to her.

"Will you tell me what grades you got now?" James quickly asked her, batting his eyes pleadingly.

She just raised her brows at him in disbelief. "What makes you think I remember them all so many years later? I'm not as conceited as you lot, constantly lording over-"

"I'm guessing O in Potions, Herbology, and Charms, and at least an E in everything else," Sirius said loudly around her.

She blushed faintly, and had to take some niggling from Harry before finally admitting, " Well he wasn't wrong about the first three, but I got an A in my Ancient Runes and Transfiguration..."

"And," James happily prompted when it was clear she was refraining from saying something else.

She released a blistering noise before finishing, "and a T in my History of Magic. I was so busy studying for everything else, and it just sort of fell through the cracks there at the end-"

"Is that all?" Harry chuckled. "You did as well as I did Mum."

"Doesn't make it any more fun to remember," she huffed with a gleaming smile.

"Can't wait for your NEWT results now," Sirius said cheerfully before going on.

He looked around. Hermione had her back to him and her head bent, but Ron was looking delighted, noting he'd only failed Divination and History of Magic, and who cared about those! They swapped papers, Harry glanced down Ron's grades: There were no "Outstandings" there. ***

"Really?" Sirius said in honest surprise. "You'd think he'd have aced some class, I know he'd gotten on just as well in Care of Magical Creatures as Harry, what with his dragon keeper of a brother giving him some extra knowledge."

"Ron never took his classes to heart though, I'm sure he didn't even try his hardest, like others," Remus said pointedly to Sirius' careless shrug.

Mrs. Weasley praised her youngest son when she saw his results, telling those seven owls was more than Fred and George had gotten together!

"Still on that eh?" Sirius rolled his eyes.

"I don't want to hear it from the lot of you who stopped to recount yours," Lily snipped, "and then demanded mine."

Ginny tentatively called for Hermione, who still hadn't moved.

"Maybe she actually didn't get an O in everything," James went wide eyed in concern.

"I think I'll faint from shock," Sirius began fanning himself for a moment.

Hermione said in a small voice she hadn't done bad.

"Or she's just embarrassed she made such a big deal out of it and actually doesn't want to show off," Remus shook his head.

Ron walked over and snatched her paper away, then laughed she was actually disappointed she'd only gotten an Exceeds Expectations in her Defense Against the Dark Arts OWL.

"Wow," James mouthed theatrically.

"She's actually disappointed in herself," Sirius scratched at his temple for this reaction.

"She did admit Harry's beat her out in previous DA exams, I'm not too surprised about this one," Remus shrugged with an extra, though still tentative, smile at Harry, who returned it at once.

He looked down at her, half-amused, half-exasperated. Then declared them all N.W.E.T students, and asked his mum for more sausages.

"The proper response!" Sirius burst out laughing.

Harry looked back down at his results. They were as good as he could have hoped for. He felt just one tiny twinge of regret. . . . This was the end of his ambition to become an Auror. He had not secured the required Potions grade. He had known all along that he wouldn't, but he still felt a sinking in his stomach as he looked again at that small black E.

"I wish Dumbledore had told you what position Slughorn was coming back for now," Lily clucked her tongue sadly for that frown he was easily hiding now at knowing better. "Would save you a summer of stressing over this."

"At least McGonagall will set him straight at the beginning of the year," James reminded cheerfully.

It was odd, really, seeing that it had been a Death Eater in disguise who had first told Harry he would make a good Auror,

"Yeah, the irony of that has crossed me several times," James gave a heavy sigh.

"Doesn't make it any less appropriate given how your life's gone," Sirius pointed out.

but somehow the idea had taken hold of him, and he couldn't really think of anything else he would like to be. Moreover, it had seemed the right destiny for him since he had heard the prophecy a few weeks ago. . . . Neither can live while the other survives. . . .Wouldn't he be living up to the prophecy, and giving himself the best chance of survival, if he joined those highly trained wizards whose job it was to find and kill Voldemort?

The four around him made faces at this again being brought up, but now that Harry felt he better understood where they were coming from, he easily brushed past their concern as he happily watched his mother grab the book to continue.

HPHPHPHP

*This was a really weird line to me when I first read it, and I had to google if that was an actual saying or I just got some odd copy. Turns out it's an older way to say goodbye, especially to a lady. The more you know.

**I'm really not sure why Hermione was here for this summer holiday. She could have met up with them in Diagon Alley if she really needed to, but even then she wasn't essential to what goes on there. Why not have her spend the majority of the summer with her parents like she'd done before? I'll go more into this in the next book with their last mention, but still.

***I am genuinely insulted by this, Ron couldn't get one Outstanding? In Care of Creatures or something? She did for the other two, Hermione was obvious but still, Ron could have outshone Harry in one class, or at least have it be mentioned he got a higher grade than him in something.

#Harry Potter #fanfiction #reading the books #HP #HBP #The Life That Never Lived #Marauders #James Potter #Remus Lupin #Sirius Black #Lily Potter

1 note · View note

fortheloveofsnorkacks · 4 years ago

Text

Molly Weasley

I have so many thoughts about her. She doesn’t seem as popular in the Snape fandom as the fandom at large, and I think people are more critical of her as time goes on. That’s normal for fandom, I think. One of the most popular criticisms is Molly as a model of female jealousy.

Molly is a “mother hen.” In fact, one could go so far as to describe Arthur Weasley as “hen-pecked” (a term that I generally hate because of what it implies about women and their “place”) at times. Sometimes critiques of this angle on her character ignore where that behavior comes from and the logic behind it and use it as an insult against the mentality of middle class women (never mind that Molly’s poor). I want to discuss where that behavior comes from and where it helps and hurts.

Expressing affection

She smothers the people under her wing with affection but doesn’t seem to display much of an emotional understanding of her children. Her affection is largely shown through physical caretaking, gifts, and well-intentioned but unwelcome suggestions.

Caretaking:

For example, she irons Harry’s “best” clothes for his hearing (never mind that those clothes are jeans and a T-shirt! Yikes, Dursleys). She attends the cup to support Harry, but also see her family. She’s always trying to get everyone together, which has to be tough when two people are working extreme jobs out of the country. She knits sweaters for her children, and tries to reward them with new things even though they can’t afford much (consider Percy’s owl). She sends them candies and chocolates for Christmas, even to their friends.

Gifts:

The problem is, she doesn’t always seem to know her children very well. Ron mentions hating corned beef but that she always forgets. It’s useful to consider that corned beef’s a very cheap kind of food. Even if later Molly’s described as someone who makes good food and it’s made clear that even poor magical families don’t usually want for food, on the train I think the sandwich served to indicate Ron’s poverty to us in a way that would be familiar more than anything else.

Ron also dislikes maroon, but receives a sweater every year in that color. Here’s the thing, though: Ron’s not really a confrontational person. He tends to mumble about stuff under his breath or joke with friends, but isn’t the kind of person to initiate a conversation saying “Hey, let’s talk about this thing I don’t like and how to change it.” (To be honest, that’s a learned skill for most).

From Molly’s eyes, he’s never complained, and he looks good in it, so what reason is there to break from habit. That’s not the best, but it’s also not a crime. When it matters, though, Molly nails it right on the head. His watch, a coming-of-age tradition is brand new and expensive. Harry, on the other hand, receives a watch with connection to her family. It makes him belong, so to speak. Considering either of them could have gotten Fabian Prewett’s watch or a purchased second-hand watch, I think her gifts are apt.

One last thing: she fawns on Percy, which causes problems in the family dynamic. He tries to stick to the rules and be safe, something she constantly wishes her other children would do. The twins compensate by mocking him, which makes Ron even more insecure because he doesn’t want to be a target like Percy. It’s important to note that the Percy-Weasley split is largely driven by conflicts between Arthur and Percy, not Molly.

(More on chocolate and Hermione in a moment).

Expressing concern or disapproval:

The third kind of affection, expressing concern over various life choices, is bit of a weird one. She’s always telling Bill to get a haircut, or showing disapproval to Fleur--we’ve seen this in her from day one when she tries to rub the spot off of Ron’s nose.

This kind of micromanaging is uncomfortable and unpopular. We don’t generally like nagging, and certainly not about our physical appearance or romantic relationships. I just want to point out, though, that it is an expression of affection. I’m drawing on my own personal experiences here.

I think all good parents hope their child will fit in and be successful. They don’t want their children to face the same challenges they did. In my conservative household, my mother expressed concern about my unusual hair choices, nagging me to cut my hair or sometimes telling me I needed to change over some arcane fashion rule I was violating like mixing prints. It wasn’t because my mother was embarrassed by me, but because she had a keen sense of how to “fit in” and wanted to spare me the consequences of being seen as an oddball.

It’s super frustrating when I choose stuff intentionally, but I know she loves me and that it comes from a place of misplaced concern, so I brush it off and have told her when she goes too far, and she’s been trying to improve and respect my choices. That’s what I see every time Molly talks to Bill about his earring or hair. She wants him to fit into polite wizarding society and doesn’t realize that he’s not interested in that, and that his style choices are perfectly normal among his peer-group.

For all her bluster, Molly doesn’t command. She persuades, wheedles, nags, and even begs. Even when she’s screaming, she doesn’t say “Don’t!” or “Stop that,” she says “There’s no need!” I have to wonder where that came from.

Jealousy

I’ve been avoiding discussing jealousy until now, so let’s have at it.

Molly purposefully sends Hermione a tiny Christmas gift after reading a gossip article that implies she was being unfaithful to Harry.

Molly disapproves of Fleur consistently and repeatedly even after Fleur is engaged to Bill. Ginny does the same, but it’s implied she doesn’t like Fleur’s personality, while Mrs. Weasley seems suspicious that Fleur could actually care about Bill and that he’s just being taken in by her good looks.

Conversely, Molly gets along pretty well with Tonks, even though Tonks is kind of a menace to well-run domesticity. They work in the kitchen together, and Molly approves of her.

That’s not really okay. It’s a huge personality flaw. She does hurtful things to other female characters because she is suspicious. This does look like jealousy: you’re competing for the affection of my children, but no one loves them like I do. In fact, it looks the closest to Hermione’s treatment of Lavender Brown: suspicious, condescending, and passive-aggressive.

Where did this come from, though? I’ve been thinking about Molly’s negative traits and I think there’s more context than we give her credit for.

Molly’s biggest symbolic move is killing Bellatrix Lestrange in a very gendered moment, attacking her after Bellatrix taunts her about orphaning her children. She screams “Not my daughter, you bitch!” It’s worth noting that the word “bitch” appears only twice in the HP series to my remembrance, and the first time it’s literally applied to a mother dog by Aunt Marge, though it’s implied to refer to Lily as well.

I think it’s interesting that she’s given that scene, because according to the evidence I’ve seen, Molly is a lot like Hermione and not friends with many other women. She’s in a man’s world. McGonagall and Ms. Figg are the only other women to survive from the first order unscathed, and we never see her interacting with any female members of the order other than Tonks. I don’t think this is entirely accidental.

Let’s consider that her only mentioned blood family is her two dead brothers. At school, we know she was dating Arthur, and it’s common with high school relationships to leave behind other friendships to spend most time with the significant other (at least in my observation). We don’t hear her talking about school friends or anybody other than her husband or kids much. To my recollection, I don’t know of a school-era friend. Of course, it’s possible she avoids talking about them because they’re dead (more on that later). Molly’s world is her family.

I don’t think that’s wrong. Again, drawing on my own experience: My mom was a tomboy and most of her friends were boys and later boyfriends. She has expressed to me before that she doesn’t seem to have the same need as other women to ‘get together with the girls’ because her husband is her best friend and there’s no one she’d rather spend time with. She’s also the mother of seven, and has told me before she’d frankly rather spend time with us than go to a party. (She’s an introvert so casual social interaction is not always her thing). The Bedchel test is important, but it doesn’t mean that all women can or should hang around with other women all the time.

I honestly think Molly never really learned how to get along with girls or women. Hermione’s like that in many ways, as well--we never really hear about what goes on with her unless she’s with Ron and Hermione, though she is more aware than Harry or Ron about what’s going on in other girl’s lives. No one really initiates interaction with her, so it seems like she isn’t really close to other girls. On top of that, almost all of Molly’s seven children are boys, so for years she was the only woman in the house. Molly’s seeming preference for being around males is not inherently good or bad, it just...is.

(I do wish there were more examples of female friendship, though, because it seems it’s only allowed when it’s clear one of the parties is not a rival for male affection--see the friendship between Ginny and Luna, who is characterized as clearly not Harry’s romantic counterpart)

Molly doesn’t seem to believe that a woman who is attractive as Fleur could actually be genuine. She sees her as using him. She doesn’t think they have a stable match. (Part of this may come from her misperception of Bill as someone more like her, when he’s a risk-taker through and through). As soon as it’s made explicitly, abundantly clear that Fleur loves Bill for Bill, not for his looks or his job or his connections, and that she will be loyal to him, we never hear a peep from her again against Fleur. Sure, there’s some awkwardness, because Fleur comes from a very different socioeconomic background and can be a bit snobby, but there is no more passive-aggressive disapproval.

Hermione is accused of breaking Harry’s heart and betraying him for a competitor from a school associated with the Dark Arts when it’s likely someone’s trying to kill Harry. It’s patently false, but Molly believes it (along with many other women, as exhibited by Hermione’s hatemail). Once Harry calls Molly out on her treatment of Hermione and makes it clear that she is, in fact, loyal, Molly ceases her chill treatment. Why does she do this?

In every case of “jealousy” or cold treatment of another women, once they “prove” their loyalty, she ends ill-treatment. These tend to be romantic partners of people under her wing.

It’s worth noting that the Percy-Arthur split happens for a similar reason, though it’s not associated with romance: he says that Percy’s promotion has little to do with him and everything to do with using him to spy on the Order, which implies he’s spying through family connections. We know that in the first wizarding war, people had no way of knowing loyalty and there was incredible paranoia since anyone could be a traitor. That turning-on-friends-and-family ripped apart the Order and was responsible for the Potter’s death.

So there’s certainly room for a jealousy interpretation, but it’s also important to know she has spent most of her life around men and boys rather than women, and that she’s lived through a war where betrayal was a constant companion, a war where her whole family died. She is suspicious about anyone who might be using her loved ones, especially romantically.

Molly is from a different generation

First of all, Molly’s older than we typically give her credit for since Ron is the second to youngest. She left school before Lupin even came, since the whomping willow was planted after she graduated. When she was in school, she snuck out to see Arthur and they fondly mention still having scars from the whipping they received. She remembers the time before Hagrid was gamekeeper. That changes her characterization significantly--she’s going to have a different attitude to the way things work than someone younger.

There are generational differences in the ways it’s acceptable to show love. To me it seems we downplay the validity of providing for physical needs in favor of loving words, but “make sure you wear a coat” can be just as much an expression of love as “I love you.”

Another thing about the generational gap: It’s entirely possible that none of Molly’s female friends survived the war. Her family certainly didn’t--the only relative we know of is Aunt Muriel*. She’s the last of the Prewetts. She’s older than Harry and Neville’s parents were. Molly doesn’t talk much about her family, perhaps because they’re all dead and it’s a painful subject. It’s worth noting that she’s the only typical wizarding adult we get to see face a patronus ETA: Boggart (Lupin’s case is a special one). While kids see spiders and representations fo failure, Molly sees something pretty literal: her dead family.

Conclusion

Ultimately, Molly is one of the more realistic adults in the series. She’s clearly flawed, yet loved by the people around her. She’s fiercely loyal and suspicious. These are good and bad traits. Psychologically, she was shaped by the first wizarding war. Harry seems largely uncritical of her parenting style because he’s never actually experienced healthy parental love. He does get upset when she tries to protect him from something he thinks he’s old enough to do: she’s arguably justified in not telling him about Sirius, but unjustified in trying to keep him from seeking Horcruxes. She tries anyways to stop him from going out into the world, a world of war and death. Molly wants the war to be won, but more than that, she wants her family to survive the war.

*It’s worth noting that this is how we’re introduced to Aunt Muriel in person:

“...and your hair's much too long, Ronald, for a moment I thought you were Ginevra. Merlin's beard, what is Xenophilius Lovegood wearing? He looks like an omelette..”

Sound familiar?

#i am not super open to discussing Rowling herself right now #molly weasley #hp meta #ron weasley #ronald weasley #arthur weasley #fleur delacour #ginny weasley #Fred and George #fred weasley #george weasley #percy weasley #bill weasley #harry potter #harry potter meta

40 notes · View notes

noxtms · 4 years ago

Photo

IN CHARACTER DATE : december 9th, 2020. SYNOPSIS : the answer to the question of where is percy weasley. TRIGGER WARNINGS : abduction & blood, torture implied.

and the panic sets in like this : slow and brutal, tar - thick in the back of his throat when he realises that he can’t move his hands. ( it comes as a double edged sword of terror and dread ; there is nothing he can do. PERCY is acutely aware of something sliciing neat ribbons into the flesh of his wrist, of the way blood trickles lazy rivers down his hands. ) hues haven’t quite been able to focus / devoid of either contacts or the glasses he only wears when he’s alone, percy’s never felt quite this helpless before. bound to god knows what and barely able to see : he cuts a desperate, sad image. he’s too afraid of the way the noise might ricochet in the silence, the way it might snowball into a sob that’ll wrack an attenuate ribcage. god, he feels exposed.

( and despite it all, he’ll cling to ludicity : he knows that screaming, begging, yelling won’t do him any good. crying out somewhere at the back of his mind, the sickened thought : this isn’t good. someone wants you dead, and if you scream you’re more likely to die. you cannot afford your mother another dead son, another casket her frail shoulder cannot possible bear. in the face of abject misery, you resolve to stay silent / complacent in your own disappearance. that’s if they notice, what if they don’t notice, what if a tree falls in the forest and no one is around to hear it scream --- )

somewhere, a rustle in the dark, and resolve crumbles. it can’t be helped. “please, help me, please.”

four words & suddenly it’s a performance / mask down, lights up, camera set, action. all the world a stage and the space is now a grandstand, one that amycus intends to milk for all it’s worth. he comes to life as if it’s that note of desperation that he’s been waiting for, puppet on string. he pushes wide the door of the room the other is held in as if it took force to burst inside, his chest heaving from imagined exertion, his wand clutched too tightly as if he’s ready at any moment to defend them from unseen terror. he looks equal parts terrified & frantic, as if he doesn’t know what’s around any shadowed corner and he wants to get them out of there as quick as possible.

of course, his steps falter immediately. a true rescuer wouldn’t hesitate to release the bonds holding the other in place, but AMYCUS holds back as if assessing a situation that needs no assessment. there’s a waver to his voice. “percy weasley. merlin’s beard... your family will be so relieved you’re alright.” he feigns a look over his shoulder, all the better for appearances. “i don’t know how much time i have...”

he’s begging. one sound from them and he’s already pleading, as if the sound in the dark is a savior, instead of specters plucked from ephilates of a tired generation. perhaps it would be a mercy to cut to the chase, but the carrow twins, well, they’re known for playing games. that’s all this is, isn’t it? their way of playing god by toying with percy like he’s little more than a plaything in the hands of spoiled children.

ALECTO lingers behind as amycus enters the room where the weasley is kept, falling into her own role. “did you find him? do you need me to come help?” her distant voice slips into the overlap of breathless apprehension and uncertain hope, the cadence of a rescuer watching for the return of the monster under the bed. languid are her movements as she paces, wand tapping across knuckles. “you have to be quick!”

if foreboding was a tight knot in the colum of a constricted throat earlier, it’s the cold tendrils wrapped tight around flesh now. solace would’ve been a warm blossom through limbs if PERCY wasn’t so brutally aware of who his supposed rescuers are : he’s no fool. the carrows’ faces have snarled up at him from posters since his days at the ministry, and a new wave of trepidity rolls right through a quaking, bound frame. ( as hard as he tries, there’s a buoyant little squeak from the backburner / “what if they’re here to help?” he’s many things but an idiot isn’t one, he knows that no good can come of the pantomime he’s found himself embroiled in. there’s nothing resembling hope in the scene that has begun to unfold. it’s strange, really : the brunt of percy’s heartache is borne of worry for the family he’s convinced he’ll leave behind. own mortal peril is LESS of a concern than their collective grief / he wishes, in these strange moments that he’s sure will be his last, that he could apologise to molly and arthur. sorry mum, sorry dad. you deserved better than this. )

“where am i?” he’ll try to amplify the modicum of bravery that’s set into his tongue, but it wavers / intonation gives way to distress and percy sounds like a fucking child, so far removed from his near-thirty years. “how long have i been gone?”

he’s more intelligent than they’ve given him credit for. there’s a spark of recognition in those wide, fearful eyes that couldn’t be DISGUISED if he had the forethought to try, and AMYCUS is almost colored impressed by it. the emotions rolling through him - terror, dread, uncertainty, grief - were so powerful in origin amycus had trusted in a cloud of doubt thrown over their faces, but percy weasley is not as much fool as the family name implied.

he casts a glance towards his sister, the sort they don’t need to couple with words ( it’s an old wives tale that all twins can communicate by thought, but the carrow twins are an old time terror, aren’t they ? two little children born to blood, lying awake in the dead of night and learning each other’s faces better than they knew their own ). it says he knows, even while the tiny smirk that pulls at the corner of his lips says, but we can work with that.

“you’re just outside of swindon,” he’s turned back to the other now and his expression is back to faux care, back to something that resembles genuine concern - all it misses, now, is the added note to a purposely trembled voice. amycus abandons this, now, going for confusion above flawless PERFORMANCE. “that isn’t a detail you need concern yourself with, percy,” long enough for the questions to start, yet not long enough for the printing presses to begin churning out the missing poster. amycus does not make a show of dropping the facade, once and for all : it is simply there, and then not. “the question is how much longer you have to stay.”

the hope in his voice gives way to an ill impersonation of courage, and ALECTO finds that it sounds little more than that of a child’s mettle. her brother looks to her and she reacts with a quirk of her brow, a casual cant of her head. ( he does? how boring. ) when she steps from the penumbra cast by the empty, unlit room she was waiting in prior, she looks a touch uncanny, with cheeks just a bit too hollow and pallid skin just south of a typical color since leaving azkaban. almost normal, if not for the little things. “quite ugly place, really. don’t know why anyone would wish to come here.” words border a taunt, an almost cloying thing on her tongue. only a matter of time before they figure him gone, and she’s called to work. certainly just enough of it to begin pulling at threads, to the start of unraveling it all. she takes a step or two forward, and it’s like she clisk into something, a return to herself maybe, when she falls into place next to amycus. she plays off of him. “and how long it’s going to take your family to notice. any guesses? no?”

it comes and goes in waves : the startling clarity that chills him right to the bone ( i am going to die at their hands i am going to die here i am going to be another tragedy upon the family name oh god mum i’m so sorry i’m so sorry- ), and then the hysteria that crowds his throat, makes him want to laugh in sheer delirium. it is altogether surreal, to feel your pulse running cold one minute and chruning something intemperate in your ears the next / PERCY weasley, alone with the carrows. fate has a funny way of rolling the dice, only to leave you stinging when you lose.

“what do you want?” ( an altogether practical question / percy’s never been one to sit around, wait it out. their histrionics do nothing for a choleric captive ; not when blood is still running thick rivulets down palms of his hands, when he’s bitton so hard at a lower lip that it too glistens crimson. there is a trace of it on his canines. he doesn’t know. ) “i don’t have anything you’re looking for, i swear.”

AMYCUS is a predator circling prey as he moves further into the room and closer, still, to percy. alecto joins him and only near to his sister does he feel - in an odd way, confident enough - to crouch at the others level. "don't insult yourself or our intelligence," it's funny, the contrast : his expression is cold but his voice is almost velveteen, low & warm & in any other setting, any other situation, nice.

"you aren't the only person with the information that we need, percy. you're here because ronald and ginevra aren't, but don't doubt in our willingness to abandon you here, alone, and finally introduce ourselves properly to your brother... or reunite, with your sister." he smiled. again : pleasantly. if not for the context of carrow, amycus would be nothing more than a professor expressing interest in catching up with an old student. "i promise that you don't want that to happen, and to stop it, all you have to do is tell us what we want to know."

pulse throbs something fierce behind eyelids, violent underneath the sacrum of his throat, helpless in the way he cannot move. “don’t you dare touch them. don’t you dare.” ( his heart beats a little faster at the mere mention of younger siblings. all those years spent chastising, picking at them, far too overprotective and never as kind as he should’ve been : symptomatic of a love that doesn’t know vernacular confines, that only knows the kind of rage that builds an inferno behind gritted teeth when they’re referenced like that. ) clever wizard that he is, PERCY can only kick out ; nearly loses his balance, almost topples his little prison over. it’s an adrenaline rush he needs / the kickstart he needs to spit another falsehood like a loose, bloodied tooth.

“i told you, i don’t know what you want.” and to some extent, he doesn’t : captor keeps mentioning information that he doesn’t understand. “nobody told me anything.” feigned reticence suits him ; percy makes a wonderful liar, all bruises and swollen despite the way lies make his stomach twist into sailor’s knots.

there’s a roll of dark irses, a testament to patience lost during her time in azkaban. “you’re right, how can you be so sure you don’t know without us even asking?” cadence borders something sing-songy, something sweet enough to rot. long strides bring her around his chair, where hands push down on the back, balancing what he had almost thrown askew. the legs are strident when they return to hardwood floor. percy’s boxed in by them both, now, and though wands aren’t drawn, they don’t need to be to prove a point. “it’s easy, percy. where is harry potter? his body, his things...” ALECTO paints an almost innocent picture with wide eyes and relaxed posture as she lingers over his shoulder. “and a little tip --- we don’t take too well to being lied to. my ideal day may not be spending time with the most boring, self righteous weasley, but like amycus said, we can just as easily go to one of the other, hm, is it six of you now?”

and the thing is, every fivre of an aching being is straining against this ! the hard line of a jaw is stiff with muscle, and yet it happens anyway : in light of alecto carrow lingering over his shoulder, circling like a vulture, PERCY laughs. it’s entirely humourless, dry and barked into atmosphere so tense you could carve it, but it happens. ( for what it’s worth he regrets it immediately / urge to be violently sick follows it, but he’s able to swallow that one down. )

“you think they told me where his body was? jesus fucking christ,” ( muggle london has fouled up that mouth --- ) “you can’t possible think they told me that.” hysteria is a slow bloom that’s spreading through blood and bone alike, deadly in the way it seems determined to swallow him whole. “every bit as fucking daft as she is, you two, thinking they told me anything. fuck.”

percy knows the price, knows it intimately before he’s even spoken. you don’t leave something like this unscathed, something like this without the battle scars to prove it. he knows, deep in marrow, that he isn’t leaving this alive. shaking, terrified, quaking with nothing but sheer fury, he steels himself for the bloe before it even arrives. this is what happens when you lie, when you laugh. this is what happens, and so it goes.

the carrow twins move deliberately. they move as one. where one pushes the other pulls ( like opposing magnets, still connected in some indescribable way ), always compensating for the other on little more than blood instinct. alecto crosses to steady percy and amycus - in what is almost bored glory - rises, only then, to his full height. she leans left, he takes a step right. she focuses upon their charge, AMYCUS allows his attention to float. he undoes the buttons of his sleeves, both rolled up slowly to expose arms that are mottled by stark white scars & marred by one recognisable tattoo.

"percy, percy, percy," he clucked his tongue, caught between chilling disapproval & aching disappointment. there's a reason that he keeps using his name, as if they're old friends caught in something neither can control : a power to claiming it, an added threat. "we already know of the boys connection to your blood traitorous family. all those summers spent under the same roof, one more child for your overworked mother to wrangle... of course you know where he is. your family loved him."

"i'm sorry, percy. i know you'll tell us what we want to hear-" he sighs. gaze flickers towards his sister, an almost imperceptible jut of his chin given to urge her to stand away from the seated boy, and from his back pocket is pulled a wand that is, even without brandishing, a threat. "but we did tell you not to lie." the striking of a snake : predator meet prey.

with the reverent uttering of "crucio," amycus' wand slashes downwards.

#nox.important #nox.event009 #i do love .......... fun <3 #hp rp #harry potter rp #appless rp #fandom rp #canon rp #oc rp #yes i will advertise via this . this event SLAPS

8 notes · View notes

komatsunana · 4 years ago

Text

The Chronicles of Exandria: The Mighty Nein I

And so I do what I did the last 2 times for the Vox Machina Chronicles of Exandria books, which you can read [here] and [here].

These posts by no means contain all of the information in these books, but plenty of what would most interest other fans. This is by no means a replacement for actually seeing the book.

My best guess on up to where this book spoils is episode 46. Anyone who has not watched passed 46 can read this without spoilers outside of vague references that don’t really matter.

First and foremost, as usual, the artistry is the most important part of the book. All of the lovely fan-created art work is even more beautiful in ink than on screen. This I promise you.

As has been noted by other people who have received the book, it is written as though it was transcribed by Beau’s journals by the Cobalt Soul. Some unnamed writer(s) from the Cobalt Reserve from Tal’Dorei have written all parts that are not excerpts from Beau’s journals. There are edits by Zeenoth, which indicate that the book is not a final draft. Zeenoth is not impressed by their work.

The books’ foreword is a dedication to critters. I won’t transcribe all of it but it ends, “As always, we are richer for your company. For truly, what good are stories unless they can be shared?”

Unlike the Vox Machina ones, which started with pages dedicated to Vox Machina and their adventures first before branching out for guest and NPCs, this one’s table of contents shows that everything is scattered.

The first section is dedicated to the Storyteller - accompanied by art of Matt as “The Storyteller.” An excerpt follows below:

“A story walks the land through the songs and tales of those who are touched by its heart. And then one day, long after all the players within have met the Matron, a story will be told for the very last time. Unless, by the Grace of the Storyteller, we are let to it. [...] Through Ioun’s blessing we make his favorite children immortal. You hold one of them in your hands even now. Wake it carefully.”

Thoreau contacted the Cobalt Soul immediately after Beau’s first arrest - presumably the one with Tori. As the monks took Beau away, Thoreau referred to her as “his misfortune.” It is also noted in the margins that Thoreau is a good friend to the Archive.

Unlike the rest of the M9 and characters, there are no excerpts about Beau herself from her journal... Because obviously she doesn’t need to take notes in herself. However the Cobalt Soul write their own notes about her and her reputation in the Cobalt Soul and note... more than a few times that Zeenoth thinks she is aggressive, stubborn, and quick to judge and anger and as a result they can’t put a lot of stock into her notes on other people. However, Dairon was right to put their trust in her because her insight in invaluable and is quick to call out injustice.

Beau’s note taking is exceptional - and color-coded.

Beau’s first notes about Molly is that he is “not that bright, definitely drunk, completely full of shit, and not nearly as good of a liar as he thinks he is. His outfit is loud, far louder than the man himself.” His coat contains iconography from at least half a dozen gods. Beau also noted that Molly’s swords were interesting to which the footnotes immediately made note that Molly’s swords were just swords. Beau thought, in her first impression of him, that he might be on the run from a family of Warlocks.

The librarians decided to omit all of Molly’s earlier lies that he told Beau and the group about his background, and instead only described the climbing out of the grave and only able to say “Empty” story. He had scars and 9 red eye tattoos on him at the time.

There are sketches of the tattoo in full, after Molly had added to it, but it’s noted by Beau that part of the tattoo is covered by Molly’s hair. Looking at the sketch, it is implied there are more tattoos on his scalp, rather than just the length covering it.

For Molly’s story of climbing out of the grave to be true, it means that Molly relearned to speak both Common and Infernal, learned to perform his skills and duties with the Carnival, covered his eye tattoos with additional, elaborate tattoos, befriended Yasha, and discovered his innate magic ability to use his blood to infuse his weapons with magic.

Beau had made a list of every book she knew Caleb had on his person or expressed interest in. This includes the erotic books and the 2 spellbooks.

On the spellbooks, Beau says she isn’t sure about them. One she knows is a spellbook, but she’s not sure on the other as he never opens it. She wonders if it is a journal of some kind.

There is a page on Beau’s notes in the first arc with the Fletching and Moondrop Carnival - notes about the victim and all her possible suspects of which it is everyone that is part of the carnival. All of them have a strike through their name, indicating she had eliminated each of them as a suspect at one point, including Kylre.

Among the notes she has, my favorites are that Beau thinks that everyone in the circus hates each other, never trust a clown (about Desmond), and that everyone has a title such as Molly “The Ice-Spinner” and Yasha “The Brute.” Beau also notes Yasha as being human.

Outside of Beau’s notes, the best information to be found about Shakästa “Hush” is from an anonymous book from Deastock titled “Heroic Deeds of the Golden Grin.” It is because of Beau’s notes that Hush is confirmed to be real, not a myth, once and for all.

Because of how cool Shakästa was with his cool bird, Beau notes “I gotta get a bird.” So we have him to thank for Professor Thaddeus.

Unknown what deity Shakästa draws power from.

Known members of the Tombtakers:

Lucien Nonagon (Molly)

Cree: currently employed by the Gentleman. Blood powers like Molly’s.

[A name which as been severely crossed out but looks like it says Tyffinl]: Currently said to be in Nogvurot.

Otis and Zoran: Still at large, whereabouts unknown

Jurrell: Deceased

Some lady spellcaster from Rexxentrum

The Myriad is currently gaining footholds in Tal’dorei as well. There is also a written notation by Zeenoth to cross reference the Myriad activity with the Tombtakers, indicating that he believes that the Tombtakers and the Myriad might be connected.

Cobalt Soul theorizes that the blood Cree claims the Gentleman took from the M9 to track them might be a new form of blood-based mutagenetic tracking.

Beau’s first impression of Nott and Caleb’s relationship was that Nott heaped praise on him and that there might be some sort of blood debt or magic going on.

Beau’s early theory on Caleb was that he was hiding from a criminal employer and had done a high-level theft. She made note to watch if he attempted to side-step certain kinds of work.

Everything about Caleb sounded like bad news to Beau, but because he stuck around to get her out of jail Beau comes to the conclusion that that’s endearing.

Beau has made an observation that Caleb was searching for some kind of information in a book, related to transmutation. She wonders if bartering to get him into the Cobalt Soul library will get her into his good graces, though she hopes he won’t find out that the library is technically open to all if you ask nicely.

There is an entry (in Beau’s second journal, it should be noted) were several pages were ripped out about Caleb. This indicates that Beau had written down Caleb’s backstory of killing his parents but she, Caleb, or someone else had ripped it out before it got into the hands of the Cobalt Soul. The Cobalt Soul draws the conclusion that Caleb is connected to organized crime. They are also unable to find anyone born with the name Caleb Widogast in the Empire and they believe it to be an alias.

There are written notations that say that at least one of the ripped out pages were recovered, in which Beau describes the night Caleb told her and Nott about killing his parents. Both mentions of Trent Ikathon’s name were crossed out until illegible. Beau was unconvinced that Caleb’s memories after killing his parents aren’t still jumbled (rather than missing).

Fun fact! All of the Caleb illustrations in his art section all either have fire or Frumpkin in them. Because when you boil down Caleb to his essentials that’s all I’m saying.

The strangest thing about the M9, as far as the Cobalt Soul is concerned, is that they have a goblin among their party.

Beau also wonders if Nott’s relationship with Caleb isn’t also out of love or blind loyalty. Upon finding out that Nott feels like the parental figure (rather than the other way around, as Beau had assumed) Beau wonders what it is that Nott wants Caleb to be stronger for... Revenge? Or to change herself.

Beau notes that while Nott might have named herself so to call herself not brave, Beau thinks she is pretty brave. She describes Nott diving into the water for Fjord’s arc twice (even if she complained the entire time) and Nott saving Jester from the blue dragon which “absolutely saved Jester’s life.” Nott is very focused on everyone remaining together as a team. Beau believes that while Nott’s loyalty to Caleb has not lessened, her loyalty to the rest of the party has extended to them all.

“I think we might all be her kids now. It’s kind of sweet, in a really weird way.”

Zeenoth is extremely salty their junior drew lots of buttons instead of researching the crossbow Nott got from Hupperdook.

A list of all phrases that Beau noted in her journals that Kiri had learned in her time with them.

Welcome to the Mighty Nein!

I am Kiri!

Yes, I am very sweet.

It’s sharp.

Ooh, I’m a captain.

Where do babies come from?

Fire! Fire! Fire! Fire!

If it bleeds, we can kill it.

I killed people!

Get into trouble!

She’s probably a good egg.

Go fuck yourself.

Zeenoth is VERY upset about the word fuck and wants that entry removed.

Beau thinks Calianna is too polite.

Cobalt Soul believes there is at least one other bowl like the one Calianna destroyed with the M9.

Beau hopes they don’t pick up any more stragglers, as she thinks it is getting crowded.

Cobalt Soul theorizes about why Keg had a four o’clock shadow rather than a proper Dwarven beard, wondering if she wasn’t forced to shave. This indicates that beards are normal on female dwarves.

Beau thinks Shady Creek Run is so called because it’s full of shady criminals, but the Cobalt Soul notes that Shady Creek Run has a creek that is in near constant shade in the abundant pine trees.

On Molly’s death Beau says:

“Fuck. That went horribly. We lost Molly, and I don’t know what to do. [This part is crossed out: Maybe if I had-] I’m trying my best to stay objective.”

Beau also crosses out “I’m starting to like her” about Keg, and replaces it with “She’s fine, I guess.”

On Nila Beau says: “She said something really nice about Molly. How in her clan, someones spirit never leave you. They return to nature, and are forever by your side. I don’t know if I believe it, but I like the thought.”

Beau wants her own “lucky smell bag” that’ll make decisions for her.

The Blooming Grove was built post-Calamity.

Beau’s first impressions of Caduceus is that he is both grounded and flighty.

Because Caduceus hasn’t eaten meat or alcohol in the time she’s known him, she thinks he’s got to have some sort of vice.

Because of Beau’s talk with Caduceus after killing the blue dragon, Beau remarks that she likes her edge and doesn’t want to lose it and go soft. But maybe it is a better, more efficient way of doing things by being there for the M9. “Gross.”

There is a note in the margins telling the editor to contact Archivist Demid (AKA the guy studying the moons) for information on the Dust family. This indicates that he may have some special information.

Because of Jester’s defacing every town she visits, the Cobalt Soul has been able to track the M9′s movements.

The Cobalt Soul’s 2 working theories on the Traveler is that he’s a smaller/younger deity either from folk tales about a cloaked figure that either rewards or punishes heroes with a ironic twist OR a god of vandalism.

Zeenoth notes that if the Traveler IS a god of vandalism... they may have a secret follower in their ranks because of all the smut doodles in their books lately. Which of course Jester probably drew.

Beau says that as Jester told the group about her prank causing her to have to flee from Nicodranas she was full of her usual bubbliness... But was starting to see that there was underlying sadness in Jester.

Beau has known Jester has had a thing for Fjord since they first met, but after she got Tusk Love it became full-blown infatuation.

“Fjord seems super oblivious, though, which isn’t surprising for a man who occasionally wakes up covered in seawater and confusion.”

Beau stands by her and Jester’s purchase of the owl and blink dog, but she wonders how long the weasel is going to last in their line of work.

Beau wonders if it’s weird to be attracted to your friend’s mom and comes to the conclusion it is so she’ll back off... But the Ruby is smoking hot.

Beau can also see why people who want to release and evil god for Avantika. Not that she would. “She’s hot, but come on.”

No really new information on The Plank King is revealed in his section, but quite a bit is crossed out until illegible. This could detail what connection to the Cobalt Soul he has, but was redacted.

The Cobalt claims that while the M9 titled a leader, Fjord often took that position.

Beau is making direct reports on Fjord to the Cobalt Soul and his connection to Uk’otoa. In her latest report, she says that they’ve bought some time until their next trip to the sea............

Waiting for the rest of the M9 to come out of the Happy Fun Ball, after fighting the blue dragon, are among the rest worst few minutes of Beau’s life.

Beau believed Twiggy that she killed the blue dragon, in part because Caduceus believed her.

Beau accidentally writes “cute and dry” instead of “cut and dried” about Yasha’s background.

“For someone dressed in greys, who carries herself like a dark cloud, Yasha sure seems drawn to color and light. I wonder where it stems from.”

On Yasha being tested by the Stormlord by the “man made of lightning” the Cobalt Soul says it is not uncommon for the Stormlord to test his disciples through acts of physical, mental, or spiritual exertion.

The final notes by Zeenoth indicates that whoever wrote the book (outside of edits from Zeenoth himself and excerpts from Beau’s journals) were by someone from Tal’dorei. Who might it be? Someone we know?

#critical role #critical role: the mighty nein campaign #cr #the chronicles of exandria #critical role art book #i scream #my crit role feels #long post

44 notes · View notes