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dreamifics · 3 years ago

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James Potter x Reader

Oneshot

Warning:just angst and sad fluff ig

A letter for James Fleamont Potter

Dear James Potter,

Hey, what's up? That's a lousy letter starter after years of pretending you guys didn't exist.. This would be a rollercoaster of emotions, so try to keep up. Remember when we first met? You were in Ollivanders, buying a wand when you accidentaly almost killed me?

A little girl was walking pass a shop called Ollivanders, she was simply minding her own business when a ray of magic blast to her.. She fell on her butt first, her hair was a mess, she looked like she got burnt..

"Oh, dear godric!I'm very sorry!" A little boy about the same age as the girl came running out of the store.. He had a messy hair and thick glasses, he gave the girl an apologetic smile..

"What in the bloody hell are you doing?!" The girl was mad, who wouldn't? She was just simply having a great day when an idiot almost killed her..

"Buying wands?" He answered unsure. He was just shopping for wands when this very powerful surge made him lose control and it blast to her.

"I look like a mess, Mother would be infuriated..", The girl mumbles to herself as she stands up.. She huffs and glare at the boy.

"I'm James, by the way.."

"I'm Y---"

"Y/N L/N!!WHAT HAPPEND TO YOU?!" Her mother's voice boomed all throughout the alley causing some wizards to look at them..

"Goodbye, you bloody idiot.." Y/N mutters to herself.

"I heard that!"

"You were supposed to hear that!"

And that was the start of our friendship.. You little dim wit, but I'm thankful for that, because I got to meet you.. Did you know that I was not very fond of you? You just wore me down, you're a persistent arse.. But now, it all made sense to me..

What my gut was telling me about you.. You were-- no no, you're still my downfall, James.. I clearly remember when it all daunt to me, the how and why? I'm still unsure about the answer to those two questions. I'm guessing you know what I'm talking about, if you don't... I'll say it or write it now..

I'm hopelessly fucking in love with you, I realized that when you went and announced your relationship with Lily.. There was this painfully hurtful jealousy in my heart and brain.. And I couldn't get rid of those stupid feelings for you..

It was another dreary Sunday in Hogwarts, Y/N was with the Marauders except for James, they were eating at the great hall.. They were talking, teasing and annoying each other when James entered with Lily in his arms.. That image broke Y/N to thousands of little pieces, she suddenly became one with the universe.

"She finally said yes, mates!" James announced causing all of the students to cheer and screamed, obviously happy.

To Y/N, the news broke her.. She was fine with James crushing to Lily because she though Lily was not interested.. But after years of pining and persuasion, she finally said yes. Y/N should've seen it coming, she should be happy for them but why is she hurting?

"Aren't you happy for us, Y/N?"

Y/N was called back from her thoughts, the question echoed through her mind.. Oh dear Godric, she was not happy.. She wanted to be the one under James arms, or to be the one to kiss him in the lips.. She love James, not like platonic, this was so much more.. She wanted to be Lily so bad, ofcourse she's not bloody happy!

"Of course, I am!Congratulations, Prongs!"

But what could she do? Y/N would have lost that battle years ago, she was not James type.. What could she do but just pretend that she was happy and fine with them.. She was dead sure that she'll forget all about James someday.. So until that day comes, she needs to fake a smile and accept her fate.

Loving your bestfriend is the worst thing in the world, James.. I wanted to confess so bad, but the idea of losing you was a heavy baggage to carry.. So, I settled by just being your friend but you don't know how many times I've wanted to confess..

To go up to you and smashed my lips into yours but you were in a relationship with Lily, so I never did anything.. You were happy, and that was enough for me.. And don't get me wrong, I tried to find someone else but you were the best James..

It has been weeks since James and Lily got together, no one knew how she felt.. She was all alone, fighting her feelings from overcoming her. Y/N was sitting in the library, reading a muggle book called 'Wuthering Heights'..

However she hated it, she was bitter and had no time for lovey dovey books.. Y/N needed to move on, she shouldn't be stuck on James..

"Hey, Y/N!"

Y/N was startled by a Hufflepuff student, she smiled and laughed..

"I'm sorry if I startled you, I--I just have a question to ask you.."

Y/N squint her eyes, she doesn't even know this guy.. She rattled her brain for any recollection of this guy..The guy saw her confused face and chuckled.

"I'm Oliver Rigby, the captain of the Hufflepuff quidditch team.."

"Ohhh, yeah.." She just murmured but she had no idea who this guy is.

"I was just wondering if you wanted to go to Hogsmeade this weekend?"

Y/N was taken aback but she needed to move on, she can no longer be hung up on a guy that doesn't even loves her back.

"Sure.."

"Alright!I'll pick you up then!"

Y/N just smiled and walked away, she was reluctant to moved on.. Her heart was still beating for James, but she needs to move on.. For her own sake.

They were nothing compared to you, I tried to moved on.. But I always ended up to you, the same feelings always came rushing in when I see you.. Every guy seems horrible when compared to you.. The short period of time we spent together was wonderful, you gave me purpose when no one else did.

Y/N has just come back from a very horrible date, the guy did nothing but talk and brag about himself.. He was not like James who was funny and talks about entertaining stories.. The guy was not sweet nor kind, he was a bit of an ass.. That's the only thing he had in common with James, she sighs and sat in one of the sofa in the common room..

No one can beat James to Y/N, her standards were bloody high because of James.. She wanted to cry but that was stupid.. Crying over a guy who didn't even hurt her, she hates herself.

"Hey."

Y/N heart skipped a beat, she knows who's voice is that.. That voice gives her butterflies, she loves how that voice says her name..

"James.."

"Thought you had a date?Why are you back so early?" He questioned.

"O-Ohh.."

"Did he stood you up? I reckon he'd do that, he looked like a douche to me."

"Sure.." She answered not looking at him, James sits next to her and put her arms around Y/N.. She felt her body stiffen as his body made contact with her.. Y/N silently prayed that James wouldn't notice her increasing heartbeat, the stiffening of her body and the way her cheeks blush..

"Are you alright?" James seems to notice his bestfriend all red and she looked like very uncomfortable..

"What if I said no, what would you do?"

"Make you feel better, ofcourse!" His laughs echoed through the whole Gryffindor tower.. Y/N let out a dry laugh, she didn't mean that.. But her heart was breaking into thousands of pieces, she want this feeling out of her system.

"Are you really alright?"

"Yeah, maybe.."

"Want to talk---"

"Jameees!" Lily's voice called the attention of the messy-haired boy..

"I'll be right back, Lily needs me.."

"B-But what about me?" Y/N tried her very best to not choke up and crack.

"Later, Y/N.." James messed her hair, she didn't meant to be demanding however this was the sign she was looking for.. The sign that James doesn't feel anything special for her, she was just James very annoying friend..Y/N realized that with one call, Lily has James wrapped around her perfect fingers, with only one call from Lily, James was gone.. He just left her hurting friend for Lily, Y/N suddenly felt her heart was no longer there..

It was bruised and beated so many times, and now.. Y/N chest is nothing but a vacant lot, an empty hollow space.. The tiny little hope that maybe James likes her back can no longer be found.

That hope was now gone.

Y/N had reached her limit, it was truly over.. The love and jealousy she feels was a heavy baggage to carry. Y/N needed to avoid James, just until she was fully okay..

Y/N knew deep inside her that her love for James will never fully go away..

Avoiding you was the only reasonable thing to do, to be frank.. It was the only thing to do.. If I kept up that silly facade, I would ended up being mental.. You see James, jealousy is a monster that takes over your whole mind and body. It's a hideous monster you can't escape.. I do have a few questions, did you notice the not-so-subtle cold shoulder I gave you? Because back then it seems like you didn't, did you though? Did you cry every night like I did? Or did your heart break like mine did?

Y/N finally got out of her bed, she was in the great hall, hundreds of feet away from James.. But from the looks of it, he didn't really seem to mind.. He was too busy whispering sweet nothings to Lily's ear.

"If your glares could kill, Evans and Potter would be dead now.." Her friend intoned, she snapped her head away from the sight of James.

"I don't what your talking about.." Y/N denied..

"Of course, you don't.." Her friend tease.

"If my looks can kill, you will be the first one dead.." Y/N gave her friend a glare which her friends just brushed off.

"Blimey!No need to get mad, I was just stating facts.."

"Just sod off." Y/N just played with the food in her plate.

"If you told James about your feelings, he would've ask you out." Y/N's friend said in a teasing manner..

"No, he would never do that.."

"And how do you know that?" Y/n rolled her eyes at her friends question.

"Because I knew James, he was inlove with Lily since the start of our first year. "

"That's what you think.." Her friend crosses her arms and smirk at her.

"What?" She questioned confused.

"Nothing, idiot.. You won't understand.."

"O-kay?"

"Look Y/N, just move on.." Y/N scoffs at her friends genius idea.

"You make it sound like it's so bloody easy.."

"Is it not?You cry about it for a day then you find someone else.. " Y/N looked at her friend with a surprised gaze, is it that easy? How come it's so hard for her?

"See, easy.."

"Sod off.." She shut her friend down as thoughts occupied her mind..

Y/N was walking down the silent halls of Hogwarts alone, a frown in her face she hasn't been smiling this past few weeks.. Her back suddenly stood straight when the four familiar faces welcomed her when she entered an empty classroom.

"Oh, hello Y/N.." Sirius was the first to greet her with a big smile on his face but she didn't give the smile back.

"Y/N!I was wondering where you were these past few weeks.." Remus gave her a comforting smile.

"Yeah, I had no one to eat my sweets with!" Peter walked up to Y/N and offered her a chocolate which she didn't accept.

"I apologize, I have to go now.."

"But Y/N--" Peter didn't get to finish the sentence, she was gone, James didn't even look up from his seat.. Did he forgot all about Y/N? But Y/N didn't feel anything anymore.. Funny how numbness can have it's perks sometimes..

Maybe you didn't notice me because you were so inlove with pretty little Evans? That came out a little rude, I apologize for that, but I'm not sorry.. You see, I don't hate Lily, but then again kinda wish she were dead.. She was all you saw James, I was with you through your worst.. I gave you everything, but what do I get in return?

Just heartaches and neverending what-ifs.. You never saw me James.. Remember the day we graduated and left Hogwarts? You didn't even say goodbye to me, not even a single glance James.. I was not the only one who gave up on our friendship.. We both did, James..

Riding the Hogwarts train one last time was a bittersweet moment for others.. To Y/N, it was a relief.. She would finally get to leave the place that reminds her of James, every corner and walls was embedded with memories of Y/N and James having fun with each other.. It may sound nice but it only brought misery to her.

"Y/N!We're getting off now.." Y/N's friend broke her silent trance.. Y/N stands up and exits the train, her feet hit the platform floor, Y/N took a deep breath and wander her eyes to the sea of graduate students. Some were celebrating, some were crying and there Y/N saw him..

James had Lily under his arms as they talk with the rest of the Marauders.. Disappointment was written all over Y/N's face, this was the last day they would be able to see each other and James didn't even glance at her.. They were friends for years, she couldn't belive that their friendship was beyond repair..

"Quit staring at him, your looking pathetic." Y/N whispers under her breath, walking away without saying goodbye was not how she planned her last day in Hogwarts. Y/N was moving to America and will work in the Ministry of Magic there.. She does not want to work in the same place that James and Lily was going to work at..

Y/N needs to really move on, and America would be the place for it.. Atleast there, she's far away from any reminders of James or Lily.. Holding her trunk, she walks away from her old life.. No more heartaches, just miserable thoughts and lots of what ifs.

Moving here didn't even help, I'm still inlove with you.. You might be confused about why I'm just sending this letter to you now.. Well Mister Potter, I just got an invitation to your wedding and I'm very very drunk right now.. I didn't think you would really send me an invitation because you know were just strangers.. We spent years ignoring each other and now this bloody envelope shows up at my home..

How did you even knew my address? Were you keeping tabs on me? If that's the case then I'm very flattered and also a little bit creeped out but that's not the point! The point is, I'm not going to your wedding because I'm still fucking inlove with you.. I hope you enjoy the wedding though, also don't bother writing back.. I would never remember this anyway, so James.. Give Love, Peace, and Chicken Grease.

Sincerely,

Y/N L/N

If you guys have any request for imagines about ( marvel characters, DC characters, stranger things, game of thrones, brooklyn 99, friends, basically anything! I accept everything!)

#james potter x reader #imagines #james potter imagine #james+potter+x+reader #marauders #hogwarts #james potter #no voldemort au #oneshot #oneshots

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lilyrachelcassidy · 3 years ago

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Summer Nights (3)

A/N: INDEX

Warnings: alcohol, language, sexual alludes, and... that’s it??

Word Count: 3.7k

Tags: @war-sword @paradigmax @winnsmills @idkatee @bforbroadway @okaydraco

So her name was Y/N.

Draco couldn't help himself but wonder about her for the past few days, after their encounter in the restaurant. As he thought more and more of her, he decided she was more of a changeable person, judging on what he had learned about her; timid and coy one day in the lobby when he first arrived, and plainly confident on another when she approached him to return his fucking wand.

And did she believe in that fictive tale about him playing a magician? Did she sense his sudden abashment when she started to question him on the subject?

He blamed himself for the whole situation, which could have never happened if he only were more careful. He assumed he had lost the wand when his mother furiously dragged him back to his hotel room from the bar he had stopped by for a while. Perhaps, it was when he had handed the receptionist, Y/N, the letter, and it just dropped out of his pocket as he was taking an envelope out.

Fortunately for him, it found its way back. So he didn't have to trouble his head with that now, right?

One issue, however, stuck to his thoughts and vividly came back every time he glanced at his hand, only to see blurry words written with a hard-to-efface ink. Of course, by none other than Y/N.

A few days back, she had scribbled her name and a number on his palm, and since then, he tried to figure out what it was for. He knew he couldn't walk out to the city and stop people in the middle of the pavement to ask for an explanation for the note because it would be as irrational and bizarre as it sounds. The second thought was to ask his mother for an additional conjecture about that by sending an owl. But then he quickly remembered, he didn't have access to any of owls here and -- so and so -- he didn't know the address Narcissa was staying at.

So both options were excluded.

Soon enough, however, the situation cropped up. Someday around six in the morning, still sound asleep and immersed in the dreams, the strange, alarming sound rang up in his bedroom, echoing off the walls and waking half of the death of him as he heard it. He flopped off his bed with the sheets falling along with him, and he began looking for the source of the noise. Then he noticed: a white handset and a set of ten digits next to it; he picked it up -- it was only a hotel checking up if he needed anything.

From then on, everything lined up and made a perfectly logical sense in his head -- it was a muggle device to communicate with each other. If you were desperate enough not to meet up with somebody in the real-life, you were likely to click nine digits and either meet with the receiver's voice or voicemail on the other side. So here was a purpose of the number.

Draco also discovered these things were so-called phones. And they were sold in various forms and types like the models of brooms in the Wizarding World -- from less to most exclusive ones. Little did his consciousness helped him, but after an hour, he was already out in the city and walking next to the shops' exhibitions and searching for an electronics store to buy himself one of those.

Why did he want to buy the phone? He could lie and say that it was only in case of emergency. But admitting truthfully to himself, he felt a nagging curiosity about those devices and wanted to understand this part of the muggle world. And something, more of a hunch than reasoning, told him that he soon might be needing one of those.

Later that day, after wandering for almost an hour and stepping into some cafeteria for lunch, he was finally holding a fucking iPhone in his hand. It had a lot of fancy shining buttons and a small, black partly-bitten apple on the back, and some kind of virtual assistant (at least that's what he had heard from a salesman) Siri with a very posh British accent. Having been advised to purchase it, Draco did so even without a second thought.

He paid for it with some muggle money his mother provided him before her departure, and walked out of the store, having it packed in a nice paper bag with a receipt and a SIM card. He decided on opening it when he reaches his room, and meanwhile, look around the area for some entertainment or something in those terms, to preoccupy himself.

Actually, Draco hadn't been too much in foreign countries, and hauling him out to Muggle London was a miracle, much more to Muggle Paris. He could find a similarity, but it was much different here -- cars honking at each other at the traffic jam; countless shops with clothes; restaurants with delicious food; people babbling at one another in French but also in Italian and German, and English. It was chaotic; it was loud, and he had to watch his feet in order to not trip over by someone else.

Draco felt lost in that mess. Random people encouraging him to visit the shops he would never intend to drop by, strangers pushing him in a rush and mumbling indistinct 'Sorry' for stepping on his shoes, some even too bothered to even look at him. Partly, he wished he had never listened to Narcissa and instead spending time with Thoe, Blaise, or whosoever and talking about irrelevant stuff like the score of the last Quiddich match (Banchory Bangers against Falmouth Falcons) or about the latest affairs with the Ministry of Magic.

And what was he even doing here?

In mere seconds, he decided on changing a route back again to the hotel instead of meandering aimlessly and optimistically, waiting for some godsend to find.

What he wasn't, however, considering was actually finding some godsend in front of the revolving doors of the hotel building.

Yet again, as if some supernatural powers brought them to the same place every time, he was standing on the opposite side of the door where Y/N. It was the late afternoon, so instead of wearing the usual white shirt in the composition of black jeans, she had a green top and striped, yellow shorts with a small watch on her wrist.

She was turned, slightly to the side, so it was her profile he saw as she waved probably at one of her friends, smiling broadly. Draco never really paid much attention to the girl, especially to her looks, but now as his eyes roamed over her standing figure in those a little too revealing clothes, he felt a gulp forming in his throat. Her hair was falling on her shoulders, the beam plastered to her face, and she seemed to be a radiating sphere of positivity.

For the last time, she blew her friend a kiss, and then she was looking at him, infinitely shocked at the sight of him behind the window, staring at her. Draco blinked, snatching out of thoughts.

Y/N made her way out, gripping her big handbag and throwing it hastily on the shoulder and a glowing grin waving over her face again. "Nice to see you again," she said. "I thought you would call."

He furrowed his brows, detecting the faint trace of hope in her voice and feeling his heart take up on the speed. "Well... I was just about to. In the room. I bought a phone..." He lifted the sack in his hand. "...and was about to dial your number."

"Really?" she asked, slightly startled and happy at the same time. She brushed some of her hair behind the ear. "Didn't you have the phone?"

"I left it at home." It was the quickest lie he could conceive. He playfully rolled his eyes, indicating the slight amusement at his alleged absentmindedness. "Just heading back from the shop."

She laughed at that. "Right." Suddenly, her cheeks were covered in a light scarlet, and she dropped her gaze at her feet for three seconds, as if she was about to share something very, very secretive with him. Then she was eyeing him again. "Listen... I've just ended a shift. Maybe you would like to go somewhere? I promised I'll show you around the most interesting spots. Are you up to that?"

Draco contemplated, taking in a small breath. Some part of him really lingered to give it a shot and go out with her, seeing where it carries them, as spontaneous as it was. It wasn't a date, and she was practically a stranger, but... what kind of a stranger! A quiet voice in his head told him this was what kept him away from the idea; disclosing his doubts -- her sparkling with joy eyes and the effect she had on him. A mere fact of him pondering the question was pure evidence it mattered to him, and he definitely tried to kick in with a good impression.

That left him with no more answer than: "Yeah, sure."

For some reason, Y/N let out a sigh of relief and relaxed a little, looking as if she was about to hear bad news but heard the contrary instead. "Great!" she exclaimed cheerfully. A little too cheerfully, she realized, as soon as she spoke up because the embarrassment welled up on her face. Yet another blush brushed her cheeks, and she chuckled at herself. "Sorry. Bad habits from the reception."

Now it was his turn to chuckle. He liked it, actually, but obviously wasn't going to say that out loud. "Don't mind," he assured her. "Shall we--"

"Before we do," Y/N cut him in, already guessing the upcoming rest of the sentence. "I suggest you leave that stuff..." She pointed her finger at the bag he was carrying. "...in the room. We might be wandering some hours in the heat. So it might not be the best idea."

Draco nodded, silently agreeing with her pertinent advice. "I'll meet you downstairs in... five minutes, then."

She shifted a little, still grinning like a maniac and watching him with sparkling eyes. "Okay," she said, as Draco was making to walk past her, feeling the strangest hint of excitement creeping in his chest. As he was nearing the doorway, he heard her shouting behind his back, "I'll be waiting here!" And the tiniest of his rare smiles formed on his lips.

XOXOXOXO

"So tell me something about yourself, Draco." Y/N looked at him, a light of interest entering her eyes.

As decided, they had met up a few minutes later in front of the entrance to the hotel and then took on the route. Draco had asked her about any potential propositions of where there should go, to which Y/N only smiled mysteriously and said it was a surprise.

So now they were walking hand-in-hand, taking almost the same pace as they strolled in the rhythm of the roads. The buzz still could be heard, and people prattling loudly, but this time -- as Draco noted -- instead of crowding in the center of the noise, Y/N led him through some stealthy alleys only a real dweller could know about. There were still laughs and talks coming, but much quieter.

"What do you want to know?" he asked, not quite comprehending how he should answer her question. He had been in some relationships, some successful and some not, but no one had really paid much interest in him. Not really him.

"Uh, you know. Where do you hail from, what are your hobbies, why did you come to France? Whatever you want, actually." Y/N chortled, offering him a small smile of encouragement. The sun rays were smoothly emphasizing her beauty; skin glistening under the daily light. Draco couldn't help himself but think of how her hands would feel on his shoulders and--

'Focus Draco,' he scolded himself for drifting far, far away with his imagination.

"Well," he started. "I'm from England, what you can guess by my accent. I play piano, learned Italian and Spanish, and...you know, basic stuff." He omitted the part he was a captain of his Quidditch team at school for almost five years which was his biggest pride. "My mother forced me to come here."

"Oh," Y/N seemed to be a little surprised by his confession because she made a fish-like face. "Didn't you want to come?"

"Not quite," Draco admitted truthfully. Before she was able to ask him for a reason for that, he outstripped her. "Had a tough time lately. My friend...died."

Y/N stared at him, mouth slightly agape, and in an instant, her expression turned from cheerful to a regretful one. "I'm sorry," she said, massive uncomfortableness visible on her face.

He shrugged, making his faultless poker face to the game as if it didn't affect him at all -- blank and uncaring. But it hit him. Always did. He didn't like to talk about his post-war experience; even recalling it in his mind was torture.

'If she only knew,' Draco thought. 'She wouldn't be so eager to get acquainted.'

Before he could pay off with as much interest as she did to him, Y/N was gesturing excitedly to the name on the corner of the building, located right next to the extensive, artificial beach with impeccably clean water. There were quite a few people enjoying themselves and sitting on the warm sand, but not throng as Draco could expect from a place like that. "Here we are!"

Not only the sand, but a minibar was there as well: a small deckhouse in the midway of the shore and pavement; a few wooden stools; and the bartender who was shaking a cocktail mixer in his hands.

Shortly after, however, the man behind the counter noticed them approaching. He shot Draco a brief look, and then his gaze landed straight at Y/N, who also perceived him glancing at her. He seemed to be happy at the sight of her, and his eyes swept momentarily over her figure, perhaps identifying if it really was a person he thought it was, and then he gestured for her to come closer. Y/N seized Draco's forearm, tugging him to come along with her, and Draco, left without any other choices, followed.

Y/N began speaking something French with him, and he heatedly answered her back in a sort of enthusiastic voice. Apparently, they must have known each other because, after seconds, they started joking around, laughing, and patting each others' shoulders like old friends. It took quite a moment, but the bartender eventually focused his attention on Draco, who was standing next to Y/N and was trying to make any sense out of the conservation. The man asked something, curiously arching his brow yet again at Y/N, who flushed suddenly. Clearly flustered with his question, she playfully smacked him at the top of his head and turned to face Draco.

"Sorry for that," she said, putting both of her elbows on the countertop and making a slight pout of guiltiness. "It's just an old friend of mine. I used to come here a lot in the past, so we know each other... pretty well, I guess."

That arose Draco's curiosity, and he didn't miss a chance to ask her. "Don't you come here anymore?"

"No." The readiness of this reply surprised him a little bit. She bit her lip and let her eyes drift at her shoes, which -- Draco noticed -- was her typical reaction when she was nervous. "I... I used this place to meet up with my boyfriend. My father didn't approve of our relationship -- he assumed there was something iffy about him and that he had bad intentions." Chuckling dryly, she tried to cover up her emotions, though the sadness was hitched to her voice. "He was right. He used me and then dumped me, saying it meant nothing."

Although he felt an urge to hug her, he held it back and stared at her, not really knowing what to say. Should he console her by telling her the man was a pig and she clearly deserved better? Or should he keep silent, only proving himself to be a good listener? It was very confusing for him to be around girls who cry and complain and expect reassurance in their words. He witnessed Pansy weeping a lot of times, but she was the one to instruct him what to do by throwing herself at him and lingering in the embrace. But Y/N was new to him, and it was no easy way to find out what she wanted him to say.

"Sucks," he uttered under his breath before the awareness kicked in.

What the fuck, you dolt?! Is it how you want to comfort her?

Fortunately, Y/N didn't receive his words as critically as he because her eyes lighted up, and she giggled softly. "Yeah... But I learned from that. I try to be warier now."

The bartender poked her suddenly on the shoulder, making some mumbling and incomprehensible sound. Y/N nodded and slightly tilted her head to have a better view of Draco. "Jean asks if you want a drink. He recommends Brave Bull. Brags that he can do the best one in the country."

"Mhm... Let it be it," he agreed, giving up on his usual liquor and dipping into more muggle-like specials. He attempted to force a smile on the lips, trying to give it more of a tone of a request than a demand.

She reciprocated the gesture, and then she turned to her friend, leaning casually against the bar and expertly translating the conversation. He only nodded, smiling, and grabbed the nearest bottle of some booze to pour the contents into the glass along with some other ingredients.

"Here you go," the bartender, Jean, tried out his amateur English, but remnants of French accent could be heard. He laid two glasses of alcohol -- one fiercely brown; the other one, blue with a cocktail umbrella inside -- on the countertop and grinned. Before Draco could take out some cash to pay, Jean's voice echoed again, still with a little stammering accent. "Free!"

Y/N and Draco made their way to a nearby bench, both calmly sipping their drinks and looking at the horizon as the sun set down, disappearing out of your sight. It was strange for Draco how comfortable he felt in her presence; the comfort he hadn't experienced for years in anyone's company. Although he was aware you had met a few days ago, something in your relationship gave him enough space to be himself. And he liked it.

Draco chanced to glance at Y/N, and she was already looking.

"I like coming here," she started hastily, as to conceal she was staring. "It's calming."

As an excuse to tear their eye contact, Draco scanned the beach again, and he could definitely get her point. The place was nothing but charming. "Agree."

"You know... It was my inspirational area when I drew. I first found it when I got into a huge fight with my father. Since then, I have used it as an escape from the outer world. It was a mistake that I shared it with my ex, but... you seem to be a proper person."

Draco didn't miss the compliment, and a barely visible blush danced on his cheeks. He felt his pulse speeds up, heart pounding at the sudden realization of their proximity. "You drew? Is it past tense?"

"Yes." Y/N nodded swiftly, grunting. "I love to capture the moments I find beauty in: people, places, specific objects. I even aspired to go to art studies. But..." She exhaled deeply, preparing herself to continue. "...they are too costly. My father says so... I don't blame him; I know he tries. But I stopped myself from having hopes."

Draco listened, and the pity churned his stomach. Taking a nip of his drink, an idea popped up in his head. "Do you have those drafts?"

"Right now?" Y/N asked, shocked, to which Draco responded only with a short nod. "Yes, I usually carry them --er-- in my bag. I had to throw them away... but I just couldn't."

"Can I see?"

Surprisingly, for the first time, as Draco saw, reluctance appeared on her face. She deflated, apparently battling with doubts. "Ummm... Yes." And then she slipped her hand into her motley bag, rummaging intensely. After mere seconds, she finally found what she was looking for -- the set of papers bound neatly around by a fine twine and clip, to the additional perseverance.

Y/N passed him, what seemed to be many hours of her solid work, and he examined them closely. What Draco could say is that he wasn't an expert in the field, but he unconditionally believed that those sketches required a lot of talent to draw as precise as they were. He was in awe, really -- the accurate contours given the best preciseness; the attention paid even to the smallest details; gradings made with soft touches of a pencil. The drawings presented a lot: random people walking in a rush, natural landscapes, some sculptures lined up in front of a building, even the least relevant objects like shoes or an apple. That, of course, didn't discourage Draco from watching further -- he flipped the pages, soundlessly, and a little too fascinated to utter a thing.

"And what do you think?" asked Y/N, nervously tapping her fingers on her thigh and (unnecessarily) preparing herself for a flow of criticism. Her gaze darted between Draco's face and the sketches.

"I... think you have a gift," he complimented her, weighing the great truth in his words.

"Really?" Y/N asked him in disbelief, blushing profusely. "Thanks! But --er-- you can take them if you want. It'd be easier for me to know I give them in the good hands than throwing them away."

The 'good hands' comment flattered Draco, and he felt almost honored to accept the offer. "Yes. Thank you." He buried the works deeply in his pocket.

He would definitely make good use of those. He had a plan.

XOXOXO

A/N: Okay, hi everyone! It was supposed to be longer, but I decided to divide it into more chapters with less word count instead. Nothing is happening yet, but you can already feel some tension, right? :D The next chapter is going to be super, super short. So I might be posting it within two days or so??? Idk yet, and it’s not a promise because I have a nice surprise (spoiler! a new one-shot) coming and a few requests to answer, so it might also take a moment. But please, stick with me :D If anyone wants to appear on the tag list, write in comments, DM, or wheresoever!

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ffangirlingsince2001 · 4 years ago

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End of the Tunnel: I

Description: It’s almost been a year since Freed Weasley was lost to the Battle of Hogwarts, and for George Weasley it might as well be an eternity. He is lost in the dark, no color to be found. Until suddenly there might be a light at the end of the tunnel.

Warnings: (future as well as present) suicidal thoughts, smut, angst, fluff, depression, attempted SUICIDE, self harm, torture, mentions of torture

A/N: So, this is pretty dark, just FYI. There will be happy moments but a lot of the time it will get pretty dark. Trigger warning applies now, just be forewarned. Please enjoy though if you are willing to suffer through the tragedy to get to the light at the end of the tunnel.

MASTERLIST

***

The world ended on May 2, 1998.

At least it did for George Weasley.

He was not dead, of course. His mother and father still loved him. Bill, Charlie, Percy, Ron, and Ginny all still hugged him. His business was doing splendid, far better than it ever had before the war, Ron was even helping him run it. And yet, the world felt as if it no longer turned because Fred was gone and that was all that really mattered.

May 2 had been awful, but the funeral was even worse. Friends, family, and strangers wanting nothing more than to hug him or shake his hand when all he wanted to do was destroy everything that touched him. He hadn’t shed any tears that day. He figured he was all out, but now that he considered it, he was sure he had just grown numb.

He had never had a problem smiling before, and even in the winter he was constantly warm, denying every coat his mother sent his way. And now, he was sure he had forgotten how to smile and even in the hottest part of July he wore a sweater, fighting off the chills that ran along his spine.

His mother had pleaded with him to go to therapy, to talk to someone about the tragedy but he had refused. There was nothing a therapist could tell him that he didn’t already know.

He knew he was depressed; he knew Fred was never coming back, and he knew he needed to move forward. He had no interest in reliving the moments when he had witnessed the cold lifeless body of his twin lying on the floor of the school they had once attended. All he wanted to do was the lock the door to his new flat and never come out. He had considered returning to his home above the shop but every time he thought of the memories he had built there his stomach churned and before he knew it he was emptying the contents of his stomach into the nearest sink. So, he gave it to Ron and Hermione and bought himself a smaller one.

He was laying in the bed that occupied most of the studio flat, thinking about the day he moved in as he struggled to get up. The walls were grey, and the bedsheets were white. He hadn’t bothered to buy curtains, so the dingy light of the cloudy morning was highlighting the dust he had let build up over the months. No pictures hung on the walls; no Knick knacks sat on the shelves. Dishes were piling up from the last spout of motivation, not that he ate a whole lot these days. Most importantly, there were no mirrors. He had ripped the bathroom one from the wall and shattered it in the street the moment he moved in, completely satisfied with giving up his security deposit for a little bit of sanity. His world was completely colorless. His skin was pale and the warmth that had generally resided in his face had seeped away like water from a washcloth. In fact, the only color one could find in the small room was his hair, shining just as brightly as it had the day the world ended.

He had dyed it once. A dark brown, the most boring color he could think of, but the moment his mother had seen it she burst into tears and begrudgingly changed it back, if only to avoid the dirty looks that Ginny shot him through the very uncomfortable family dinner.

Today was the first of March, and George could feel the anniversary of Fred’s death drawing nearer with every movement of his body. His muscles ached and his bones creaked like an old rocking chair no one had touched in a century.

As he laid there he considered never getting up, but eventually with great effort he pulled himself from the cold sheets and pulled on the dullest clothing he owned. A grey tailcoat covered a white button up and black slacks, severely pressed hung a bit short over his ankles. The shoes were so old they no longer shined. He didn’t bother brushing his hair, sure that the howling wind would mess it up anyway.

He left the door without eating breakfast and turned down the street in the opposite direction of the store. He couldn’t bare to go to work today, and Ron could handle it.

Ron had gotten a lot better at handling it.

He was right about the wind, it battled against him like it was trying to force him to go to work, but he pushed on, determined to spend his day in miserable loneliness. Somedays he imagined Fred was screaming at him from the clouds, telling him to stop being a git and move on with his life, but he had never been good at taking orders. So, without any regard for the signs of the universe he continued to push on, wrapping his arms around himself as he tried to keep warm.

In honor of his mood, it began to pour and before he knew it, he was drenched to the bone, the neat he clothes he had donned pressing tightly against this skin. By now he was in a muggle town he had never been to. The streets were completely empty, no one wanting to get caught in the torrential downpour.

He was going to turn around, go home if not to work, when he heard a voice shouting through a roll of thunder. He glanced around, searching for the source, and was met with the sight of a woman hailing him towards her store. He looked behind him, checking for someone else, when he heard a sharp laugh.

“I’m talking to you, silly. Now, come in before you catch a cold,” she called, stepping into the rain to usher him closer. He walked quickly, ducking through the doorway as he followed her inside. He watched as she shoved the door closed against the atrocious wind, the bell jingling ferociously overhead. When she had succeeded, deadbolting it for good measure she turned to face him. She wrung out her blonde hair as she studied him with bright eyes (they reminded him an awful lot of what his used to look like). “What on earth are you doing out in this weather?” she laughed, and he shrugged, unsure of how to approach the situation. He had not been met with such glee in an exceptionally long time. When he didn’t respond he smile faded and concern rested heavy on her shoulders. “Are you alright?”

“I don’t think so,” he muttered, and she nodded.

“Then I think you need a drink.” She ushered him to barstool and disappeared behind the counter. “Butterbeer or tap?” His eyes snapped to her when she mentioned the magical drink. “Butterbeer then.”

“You’re a witch?” he blurted, and she laughed, shaking her head.

“Oh no, but I know my customers, and you are clearly a wizard.”

“How can you tell?”

“The wand in your tailcoat.” He glanced down and sure enough, a faint outline of his wand was visible against the fabric. “No need to obliviate me though, I’m no snitch. I’ve had all types in this little pub of mine, vampires, werewolves after a particularly bad night, wizards, what you call muggles, I’ve even had a couple goblins gamble in my back room, no bias here.” He didn’t say anything as she twittered on, setting the mug in front of him and leaning on her elbows as she took him in with earnest curiosity. A few minutes of silence before she spoke again. “Do you want to talk about it, that’s what bartenders are for to hear all your tragedies while you drown them in the best liquor we have?”

“Who are you?”

“Hannah Gladdis. And you are?”

“George Weasley.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

“How old are you?”

“Nineteen, twenty in June. You?”

“Twenty-one in April. How’d you come to own a magical bar at nineteen?”

“It was a tragic thing really, last year the owner died in a war with your sort. I was a waitress then, but he left it to me in his will, so now it’s all mine. Honestly, I’m surprised I survived long enough to own it, luck I guess.”

“What happened?”

“These men in masks came and tore the place apart looking for the owner, shouting something about blood traitors, but he wasn’t in. It was just me, hiding right behind this counter praying that they wouldn’t find me.”

“Did they?”

“Yes,” she whispered, fear creeping into her eyes as she thought about the night she was describing to him. “They used two spells. One made me feel like I was on fire and the other made me bleed, I can barely remember it. The whole thing was awful, by the time they were sure I didn’t know I could barely move. They set the place on fire and left me to die, still hunting for him, I guess since he’s dead now. Somehow someone saved me, I don’t even remember them but they must have performed a counter curse because I got out with only a few scars, but you would know all about those,” she said noting his missing ear. ��Were you in the war?”

“Right in the center of it. Do you have any firewhiskey?” She nodded and dropped beneath the counter and pulled out the familiar bottle.

“I’m sorry for your loss.”

“How do you know I lost anyone?” he growled, and she offered him a sad smile.

“I lost friends and I’m not even a witch, I figured a hero right in the center of it wouldn’t come out unscathed. Also you’re missing an ear.” He grunted and threw back the shot of liquor she had poured. “You won though?”

“Sometimes it doesn’t feel that way,” he mumbled, and she nodded, taking one of his hands into hers. He watched her hands cradle his as if he were the fragile one, but he could see the scars that were etched into her fingers. He ran is thumb along one of the more prominent ones. When he glanced up, she was biting her lip, eyes focused on the thumb that was stroking the harsh scar. He whispered her name, but she didn’t move. He said it again and this time her eyes met his. He wanted to say they were blue, but that didn’t seem quite right. Her dark eyelashes were hanging heavily over them, casting shadows into the two small pools of ocean that stared back at him. He was going to say something more, let the light buzz from the liquor take control and pull her against him, but she moved away before he could. With an awkward laugh she tucked a piece of hair behind her ear and pulled herself a shot, downing it just as quickly.

“It’s not even noon,” she laughed to herself and he shrugged.

“I’ve been drunk before noon before, nothing to ashamed of.”

“Isn’t that a sign of alcoholism?”

“Not that I’ve ever heard of before.” He flashed her a tight, unpracticed smile that made his heart cringe against his ribs but it seemed to work. Pink washed over her cheeks and she was quick to busy herself among the empty glasses, searching for one to clean.

“So, what’s someone like you wandering the streets during a downpour?”

“Escaping.”

“By catching a cold?”

“Or something like that.” She laughed awkwardly, running a damp washrag over the top of the bar, avoiding eye contact at all costs, and it was killing him. He wanted to look into her eyes all day. He had to think of something, do something, say something that would draw her back.

“Why didn’t the Ministry take your memories?” he asked, and then silently cursed himself. Out of all the topics he could have chosen, he chose the one that terrified her. He hadn’t spoken to a stranger so domestically in such a long time it seemed he was out of practice.

“They don’t know, as far as I know they don’t even know I exist. And I would like to keep it that way if you don’t mind.”

“Wouldn’t it be better to forget?”

“To forget what?”

“All that pain and fear.”

“I considered it at first, but then I decided it was better to know what was coming then feel broken all over again.”

“No one is going to hurt you like that again,” he growled, far more aggressively than he had intended and she laugh, taking his hand and finally allowing their eyes to meet once more. She didn’t seem scared when she looked at him, it was if she almost wanted to believe him. She really seemed to believe the idea he could chase away her nightmares. He knew he would disappoint; he could barely chase away his own.

“You sound so sure, George, but alas, you won’t always be sitting in my little bar to protect me.”

“Then come home with me.”

She was shocked to say the least, at least that’s what her eyes said.

“I barely know you.”

“Then get to know me.”

“I’m working.”

“You said it yourself, no one is out in this rainstorm.” He sauntered towards the window and flipped the sign around and locked the door. “And anyways, it seems you’re closed.” She studied him closely, and he was acutely aware that she was still holding his hand. Finally, she nodded and for the first time in ten months his heart jolted with joy. He spun her around the bar and caught her in his arms. “Ready?”

“For what?” she began to ask but they were already gone, whipping through the air as he apparated them to the small flat.

She was laughing when they landed, clutching her stomach as she tried to catch her breath.

“My god, that was exhilarating,” she gasped. She was still holding his hand, tighter than ever. He watched her as she looked around and cursed himself for not keeping the place cleaner. “I like your place.” He was sure she was lying; it was so dull and lifeless it was almost a prison cell. The counters were dirty, and the trashcan was overflowing. “It could use a little color, but maybe that’s the beauty of it. I can never decide how to decorate so I’m constantly having to remodel, this way I can just close my eyes and imagine the walls orange.”

“Orange?”

“Or maybe a soft teal, I don’t know, it depends on my mood.” He caught him smiling again for the second time on the day he woke up feeling like death. She was like a ball of sunshine and she was standing in the little place he called home. For the first time since he had been born, he found himself wishing his home was bigger. Even when he was a kid he had never cared, but now that there was someone he was dying to impress he wished he owned the minster’s mansion.

“It’s not much…”

“It’s lovely.” Color tinged his cheeks and now it was his turn to busy himself in the kitchen.

“Would you like some tea?”

“Oh, yes, why thank you,” she said as she glanced out the window, “What part of town are we in?”

“Just on the edge of Diagon Alley.”

“Oh really! I’ve always wanted to come; I’ve heard it’s absolutely beautiful. Wow, a real wizard town. Is it true what they say about Hogsmeade?”

“It depends on what they say,” he chuckled, bathing in her excitement. It was a welcome tone, something he had not felt since months before the end of the world.

“That it’s absolutely picturesque. Someone showed me a post card once, and I called her a liar, told her nothing but a painting could be that beautiful, but she assured me it was all true.”

“She wasn’t lying, if you want, I’ll take you sometime.”

“Wow, not even a first date and you’re already promising to whisk me off to some beautiful village in the countryside.” He blushed when he realized what he had said, abashed that this woman had gotten into his head so quickly. He had never been so infatuated with anything. He turned quickly, spilling hot tea over the side of his hand, but he barely even noticed. Her eyes were big and blue as she stared at him, cheeks pink and lips parted. “George…” she began but the teacups hadn’t even hit the ground when he was taking her into his arms and kissing her as softly as his feelings would allow.

She tasted like Christmas. Cinnamon from the firewhiskey and butterscotch from the beer tainted her lips like frosting on cake he had only eaten in a distant memory. He wanted to throw her to his bed and devour her, experience every inch she would allow him, but her tentative fingers stopped him. He was stranger who had apparated her to his flat in a place she did not know, and now he was doing everything in his power to ravish her like the goddess she appeared to be.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, pulling away as far as he dared. He was not sure he would ever be able to be far from her again, not when he knew how wonderful she was. She stepped forward, still hesitant, and cupped his cheek in her hand.

“No, don’t be. That was brilliant.”

“Then would you mind if I did it again?” She laughed and leapt into his arms, pressing her lips against his. He had never understood people comparing others to home, but as he wrapped his arms around her and he felt her fingers unbuttoning his shirt as fast as she could manage. His hands dropped to the hem of her shirt, prepared to pull it off and admire her entirety but she jerked back. He stopped immediately, pulling away as he searched her face for what he had done wrong. She wasn’t looking at him again, eyes crossed over her chest as she shuffled her feet.

“I’m sorry,” she mumbled and he shook his head, taking her cheek in his hand.

“Don’t be. Tell me what you want. If it’s nothing then we’ll do nothing,” he whispered and with tentative fingers she brushed the place where is ear had once been. He wanted to pull away, but he didn’t dare, not when she looked like she was going to break.

“Very few survived your war without scars, even us muggles.” She pulled her hand away and took a deep breath before pulling her shirt over her head. He watched it hit the ground before trailing his gaze over her skin. She hadn’t lied. Scars were etched across skin that had once been soft. They were harsh and angry, still red after what he had assumed was months of healing. Silence crept into the room as he stared, anger coursing through his veins as he imagined the kind of pain that had caused these scars. “Say something,” she whispered, words catching in her throat.

“If I ever find who did this to you, I will not hesitate to kill them,” he growled and she let out a short laugh. “I’m not kidding.” She leaned up and kissed him softly, gratitude laced in every touch. He pulled her closer, fingers trailing the scars that plagued her. They tipped into his bed with unexpected grace, laughing between kisses. Quick fingers undid his pants and he followed suit, exposing soft skin raked with more scars. She didn’t pull away anymore, in fact he was sure she was trying to get closer than possible. Her legs pressed against his hips as her fingers explored every inch of skin. He flipped them over, admiring her against the bedsheets, blonde hair spread out like a halo. He leaned down and kissed her softly as she giggled against his lips.

“Don’t leave me,” he whispered before he could stop himself and with all seriousness she nodded.

“Not in a thousand years.”

#george weasley imagine #george weasley x reader #george weasley fanfiction #george weasley #george weasley smut #george weasley fluff #george weasley angst #george weasley x reader smut #george weasley x reader angst #george weasley x reader fluff #george weasley fanfic #george weasley x reader fanfiction #end of the tunnel

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thatscrazyrandom · 4 years ago

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..so um.

What if Dumbledore didn't have the Potters' invisibility cloak the night they died?

They knew they were in danger

And if that cloak had been passed down through James' family they had to have known it was special.

I think if they'd had the cloak, it would've been kept in Harry's room, specificially because they knew that Harry would be the target.

So imagine this..

It's Halloween Night 1981. It's a Wednesday.

Barely a week ago, the house of James and Lily Potter had been put under the Fidelius Charm. Their secret keeper was Peter Pettigrew- a last minute change that would lead to the attack.

It's still early in the evening.

Lily watches from the couch as James crawls around on the floor trying to make their son, little Harry Potter laugh.

They hear a loud bang as You-Know-Who opens the gate to their property.

They don't know it's him yet.

Peter is supposed to be in hiding.

Voldemort makes his way up the path at a leisurely pace. He has the upper hand. There is no way he will lose tonight.

James leaves his son to go check who it is, not knowing this is the last time he will ever see him or his wife.

Voldemort opens the door, and James' face drops.

Despite leaving his wand in the living room, James knows in that split second what he has to do.

"Lily, take Harry and go! It's him! Go! Run! I'll hold him off!" James yells.

He tries. He does. He is a skilled and talented wizard..

But without his wand, facing a powerful dark wizard like Voldemort.. James could only hope to buy Lily a few seconds.

He is struck down by a killing curse, the unforgivable falling from Voldemort lips as easy as breathing.

In the living room, Lily scoops up Harry the second she hears James yelling.

She knows she can't escape by running. Even if she could, she wouldn't want to put the rest of the neighbourhood at risk.

Instead of running out the back door and into the garden, she instead runs up the stairs.

There is one way she might be able to save her son.

On her way she hears Voldemort utter the killing curse.

She doesn't have time to grieve.

She makes her way to Harry's room.

Baracading the door to give her a few more precious seconds, she grabs the invisibility cloak from where it is stored in Harry's room.

Later, she is glad she trusted James' instincts and kept it there, instead of moving it to somewhere harder for Harry to find.

A few panicked minutes looking for Harry the one time he managed to pull it down on top of him seems more than worth it now she knows how useful it was that fateful night.

She pulls it over them, and with the last few seconds as she hears Voldemort in the hall outside the door, flings open the window as a diversion.

It's not perfect, but it's better than nothing.

As Voldemort bursts into the room, Lily cradles Harry in her arms, begging the 15 month old to just stay quiet as they cower under the window.

"I know you're in here Ms. Lily Potter. Give me the boy and you'll live."

Voldemort's voice chills Lily to her core. She doesn't respond.

She silently prays to every god and powerful wizard she's ever known that Harry will just stay quiet.

"An invisibility cloak was a clever idea. But not clever enough!"

Lily flinches as Voldemort begins firing summoning charms around the room.

One is fired right at them, and she thinks 'This is it.'

It glances right off.

Dumbledore had mentioned he had a feeling that James' cloak was special.

Lily knows Voldemort won't give up. She's heard the Prophercy, and she knows he will stop at nothing to kill her son.

She is utterly trapped, cowering under a window, invisible to the eye, but holding a time bomb that could give away their position at any time.

"You don't have to die Lily Potter. Give me the boy."

Harry starts to fuss. He's upset at his game ending so quickly, and this new game is nowhere near as fun.

Lily tries to shush him without making a sound. Any sound could be fatal.

The house is silent except for Voldemort's footsteps as he paces the room.

Lily knows she has to get out of this room.

It's hard to trust that the invisibility cloak keeps them invisible as she creeps as slow as she possibly can towards the door.

She only moves when Voldemort isn't looking her way, just in case.

She thanks her lucky stars that James prefers to keep Harry's toys downstairs n the living room.

As Lily creeps silently and invisibly around the edge of her son's bedroom, clutching him to her chest tightly, Sirius Black enters Pettigrew's hiding place.

When he finds Pettigrew missing and no signs of a struggle, he knows it can only mean one thing.

Lily is nearly at the door.

She knows she won't be out of the woods until she can apparate somewhere safe, but she's inching closer to freedom.

It's not that easy.

As she hears the quiet rumbling of a motorcycle through their small village, she's distracted for a split second.

She bumps into the door.

It creaks.

Everything happens at once they both realise what has happened.

Lily knows she has given away her position, so gives up on being silent, and runs the last few steps to get behind the wall and out of Voldemort's immediate firing range.

Voldemort whirls around and fires a bright green killing curse right at her.

Swearing she felt it hit them, but not having the time to question it, Lily bolts towards the window at the end of the hall.

Harry starts to cry.

No one knows why until later, when Lily tells them about James' sacrifice, but the house explodes.

Lily uses magic she hasn't used since before she knew she was a witch as she dives at the window, holding her son in her arms.

They float to the ground as the house collapses behind them.

Sirius Black arrives on his motorcycle.

Neither of them know Voldemort is gone, for now.

Lily immediately jumps on the back.

"Go Sirius! Drive!"

Sirius drives.

Harry cries, wedged tightly between his mother and his godfather.

He has no idea his dad won't be coming back to play with him, but he knows there were loud noises, and his mommy is scared.

Lily clings to Sirius, clings to the invisibility cloak that saved her and her son's life, clings to her son.

Sirius takes them to Hogwarts.

He can't think of anywhere safer.

James and Lily's home was supposed to be safer.

Dumbledore lets them stay.

In the days that follow, the wizarding world celebrates that He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named is finally defeated.

Lily makes sure her husband's sacrifice doesn't go unrecognised as instrumental in his death.

Dumbledore doesn't tell her he thinks it's only a temporary thing. That even now he suspects he will someday return and try to kill her son again.

It isn't until days later, when Harry is in bed, that Lily truly gets a chance to grieve for her lost love.

The man she loved, still loves, who sacrificed himself to buy her the precious seconds she needs to get to the cloak.

Harry grows up without a father, but he has his mother, and his Uncle Padfoot, and his Uncle Moony.

He has Hagrid, who was the first to offer Lily a hot drink and a warm drink when she arrived at Hogwarts, and, along with Sirius, didn't leave her side while she was questioned by various aurors.

He has McGonagal, who Lily relied heavily on when Harry was a child, because she may not have kids of her own, but she has been teaching for over 20 years, and is always ready with a strong drink when Lily needs one.

He grows up with Ron and all his siblings.

Molly Weasley knows the poor girl is grieving, and having to take care of a baby on her own. She knows it must be hard, so despite already having 7 children, including a newborn baby, she sends a care package, and offer to babysit whenever Lily needs a few hours.

Lily makes sure Harry knows his father was a hero.

She makes sure he knows that he is loved, and is never alone.

She raises him on her own, with help from her friends, and he has a happy childhood.

He has no scar, but wizarding children still know who he is.

Wizarding adults look at him in pity and whisper, but he keeps his head high.

When he is old enough to understand, Lily gives him the invisibility cloak, and tells him the story of how it saved them, and how it used to belong to his father, and his grandfather before that.

He almost never leaves home without it.

Harry grows up and looks nearly identical to his father.

It stings Lily's heart occasionally, when she looks at him and sees James' smile looking back at her.

Voldemort does return.

Harry does have to face him.

But he has his mother behind him.

And the protection of his father.

And an invisibility cloak that is more useful than one could possibly imagine.

So this spiralled completely out of my control. I have no idea where I was originally going with this and I hurt myself so now you guys can hurt too lmao.

#ps im bad at canon so i dunno how well this fits but #fuck jk rowling #ill do what i want #harry potter #harry potter fanfiction #james potter #lily potter #lily evans potter #lily evans #james and lily #invisibility cloak #i stayed up way too late writing this #halloween 1981 #canon divergent au #canon divergence #harry potter canon divergence #thatscrazyrandom writes #thatscrazyrandom

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carewyncromwell · 4 years ago

Photo

“Now I'm seeing clearly how I still need you near me -- I still love you so... There's something between us that won't ever leave us -- There's no letting go... We had a ‘once in a lifetime,’ But I just didn't know it 'til my life fell apart...”

~“If Ever You’re In My Arms Again,” by Peabo Bryson

x~x~x~x

His entire school career and beyond, Orion Amari had always been the wise counselor to his friends and teammates when it came to finding balance with their emotions and lives. Even though he had his own struggles thanks to his less-than-balanced childhood in an orphanage and suffered from anxiety attacks every-so-often, he’d still been able to live a healthy life regardless and find proper coping mechanisms for his trauma. When Orion found himself falling in love, however, it was a struggle he hadn’t known quite how to handle, or even how best to ask for help with.

Orion realized something was off-balance when Carewyn Cromwell -- a Slytherin one year younger than him who he’d finally managed to convince to rejoin his Quidditch team after three years to help their team win the Quidditch Cup Final -- got badly injured by a Bludger and ended up in the Hospital Wing with a bruised lung. Carewyn’s condition had paralyzed Orion in a severe anxiety attack the likes of which his teammates had rarely seen before, and although he managed to get his emotions under control once Carewyn was conscious, even he was unsettled by how bad the attack was. Admittedly, though, Orion had always been quite fond of Carewyn, given how well they saw eye to eye and how much they both respected each other, and Orion had felt responsible for her having gotten injured. He probably would’ve simply passed his feelings off as just guilt and worry were it not for what he saw the morning of the Quidditch Cup Award Ceremony.

While training before dawn as he always did in good weather, Orion caught sight of a gleaming white Patronus in the form of a Winged Horse. His breath stilled, disbelieving -- it was the same as the Patronus he himself had only just learned to conjure earlier that year in Defense Against the Dark Arts. And when he flew down after the Patronus and saw who had cast it, he found Carewyn waiting for him in McNully’s commentator box. Orion would look back on that day and wonder how in the world he reacted as calmly as he did, while knowing the superstition surrounding people sharing Patronuses -- but at the time, the sight had only made him want to be with her, to talk with her, to...look at her...look upon her with more clarity than he ever had before. And when he did, he realized that Carewyn Cromwell truly was a beautiful person: a selfless, kind, resourceful person with more fire than a Fire Crab and all the courage of a Chinese Fireball. It was little wonder that her classmates regarded her with such admiration, whether because of her Cursebreaking or not. Anyone could fall in love with the likes of Carewyn Cromwell. Even he...could see himself falling in love with such a woman.

And yet, when another person might have tried to make a move...Orion hesitated. He only had one week remaining at Hogwarts, before he graduated and joined the Montrose Magpies as their newest Chaser. The dream he’d worked so hard for -- his “gold,” if one recalls Orion valuing the “tenacity of a niffler” -- was finally within his grasp. Could he really put all of that at risk, by trying to alter course now? And Carewyn had her own “gold” as well -- her quest to protect Hogwarts from the Cursed Vaults. She would never choose a romance over helping her brother and protecting her own found family. Orion didn’t even know if what Carewyn and he had could even be considered a romance. Would he even have looked at Carewyn as anything romantic if he hadn’t seen her Patronus? He wasn’t sure...but now that he had, wouldn’t he then be assuming that there was more between them than there really was? Was he only projecting the “soulmates” superstition onto them, just because he fancied her? A crush was not love, after all. As much as he himself believed in fate as well, Orion knew that Carewyn did not. More importantly, he knew she’d both want and deserve someone who loved her for who she was, not due to some old magical wives’ tale. As much as he admired her, Orion couldn’t say definitively that he was in love with Carewyn, and the thought of putting all of his dreams on hold just to try to grab at a chance -- as a Slytherin, Orion just couldn’t see the sense in it. He couldn’t make that choice, not after he’d worked so hard! A Chaser can’t get distracted by the Golden Snitch, when their job is to score goals. And perhaps, in the deepest, darkest part of himself...Orion worried that he could never be what Carewyn needed. He knew how much she loved her brother and how much she wanted her family to be as it once was -- he remembered the pain in her eyes, when he’d first told her he was an orphan. Carewyn needed a family -- a home -- something stable and warm to return to...all things Orion knew absolutely nothing about. He didn’t want a conventional family life -- he had no interest in getting married or having lots of kids or buying a house with a white-picket fence. He wanted to play Quidditch and be free to live his own life, the way he wanted. And as much as he thought it was possible he could fall in love with Carewyn some day, he dreaded the thought of sacrificing everything he’d ever wanted to pursue her -- of giving up the “gold” he’d been chasing for so long.

And so, after a lot of thought, Orion made the decision to keep his feelings to himself. If they were truly meant to be, maybe their paths would realign again someday, he told himself. It was a decision that tormented Orion for the next six years he played for the Montrose Magpies. Not that he talked to much of anyone about his inner conflict -- even Orion’s best friends Skye Parkin and Murphy McNully and “star twin” KC @kc-needs-coffee could only really read between the lines, noticing that he seemed oddly avoidant whenever any mention of Carewyn was brought up. Orion even entered into a few relationships, but none of them lasted long, often because Orion’s partner wanted “more” than Orion was willing to give. The Star Chaser didn’t want to sacrifice his freedom, his dreams, or his independence. It was the main reason he hadn’t chased Carewyn in the first place...even though she’d seemed to understand him so much more than any partner he’d ever had. Carewyn would still send him letters sometimes -- Orion didn’t answer as much as he probably should have, but he always had a lot of difficulty answering her letters whenever he was in a relationship. It made him feel like he was being unfaithful, somehow. And as the years went on and Orion lived his own life and heard about Carewyn’s successful trials at the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, he tried to tell himself all the more that he’d made the right choice not to pursue Carewyn. If you love someone, you have to be willing to set them free, right? Not that he knew for sure that he’d been in love with her, but...they could’ve been something, maybe...if he hadn’t been so cowardly...

Orion’s longest relationship was with a young woman named Delilah Flint, who had taken a desk job with the Magpies’ PR department. The distinction probably wouldn’t have had much weight (given that they’d still only been together for about a year), were it not for Delilah ending up pregnant. Neither Orion nor Delilah had ever been interested in marriage, Orion because he didn’t see much reason and Delilah because she came from a family who would’ve never approved of her marrying an orphan of mixed magical ancestry -- but after the birth of their daughter Eos in summer 1996, the two reacted in completely opposite ways. Orion, who had never really had much interest in having a family, nonetheless felt a wonderful new paternal feeling swelling up in his breast toward his daughter and promised himself and Eos that she wouldn’t grow up alone, unsafe, and scared like he had. Delilah, on the other hand, suffered from severe post-partum depression after giving birth, thanks in no small part to when Eos was born (right after the return of Voldemort was revealed to the Wizarding World), and she was also in such severe financial straits that she’d have to go to her pureblood family for help, who would never agree to help her knowing she’d had a child out of wedlock. Delilah tried to give Eos up to an orphanage -- Orion, understandably horrified, tried to pacify Delilah however he could, even going so far as to suggest marriage if it meant keeping her and his infant daughter in his life...but in the end, that December, Delilah dropped Eos in Orion’s lap and left, never to be seen again.

The following year, the Ministry fell, and Orion had to go on the run, just barely escaping the Death Eaters with Eos thanks to the help of his Quidditch League associates McNully, Skye, Erika Rath, Oliver Wood, and Andre Egwu. Going on the run with a one-year-old was a difficult proposition, and after several months, a group of Snatchers cornered Orion trying to covertly purchase a new wand from a private vendor after his had gotten broken, and they took him into custody. Orion, who was bundled up in a cloak and looked to be holding his arm as if it was broken under it, went quietly with the Snatchers to the Ministry, his face oddly pale as he forcibly tried to calm his intense anxiety. He was rounded up with several other prisoners and put in a room in the Department of Mysteries until they could be “processed through the court” (read: wrongly convicted of “stealing magic”) and transported to Azkaban.

Fortunately for Orion, Aurors Angelo Lancaster @angellazull and Talbott Winger had caught wind that a new round of prisoners had been brought in, and they reached out to their main contact in Magical Law for help in busting them out. The contact -- an old school friend of theirs who was an up-and-coming lawyer -- arranged the trial hearings’ schedule so that there was a noticeable window of time before they started. In that short time, Angelo, Talbott, and their contact were able to break into the room and rescue the prisoners...and yes, the contact in question did indeed turn out to be a pretty young woman with emotional, almond-shaped blue eyes and a short ginger bob wearing flowing dress robes and bright red lipstick.

When Carewyn and Orion got over the shock of seeing each other face-to-face again for the first time in six years, one of their very first exchanges was --

“You cut your hair.”

“So did you.”

Another involved Carewyn offering to mend the “arm” Orion was holding under his cloak.

“You’re hurt...let me -- ”

“No! No, I’m...not hurt...I...”

When Orion tentatively raised his cloak to show Carewyn his tiny daughter bundled up in a wrap around his chest and cradled in his arms, part of him had wondered how she would react. He hadn’t mentioned Delilah or any of his other relationships to her in those short responses he’d sent her -- it’d been uncomfortable for him, to try to talk about his love life in his letters to her. But regardless of the surprise that rippled over her face, when Carewyn looked from the little baby to up into Orion’s dark eyes, her pale face nonetheless betrayed a weak smile.

“Is...is it a she?”

“Yes. ...Her name is Eos.”

Carewyn’s eyes softened visibly, welling up with a beautiful warmth, like the kind Orion had sometimes seen her show toward her friend Barnaby or younger students like Cedric Diggory. A maternal warmth...

“She’s beautiful.”

Carewyn’s whisper made Orion’s heart swell up in his chest, slamming against his ribs as if it wished to push itself through a set of prison bars. Even after so many years, her soul was truly more like his than anyone else Orion had ever known before.

Together Carewyn, Talbott,and Angelo worked to shrink all of the prisoners down to a size that they could smuggle them out of the Ministry and then help them go into hiding. After the War was over, Carewyn helped Orion with the paperwork needed for him to claim sole custody of Eos, since Orion and Delilah not being legal partners meant that Delilah and her family would have first priority if they ever sued for custody. Orion wasn’t sure if the Flints ever would try to take Eos, but Carewyn was determined not to give them any legal opening.

“You fought for her, Orion, not them. And now I plan to fight for you.”

“Carewyn...”

“No. I don’t want them to ever feel like they can just waltz in and take her, not after leaving her to the wolves. I’ll do whatever I have to, to make sure Eos stays with the man who put his life on the line to keep her in his life and safe. She deserves that.”

The stubborn fire in Carewyn’s blue eyes and the sincerity of her convictions was all it took. Orion had been on the edge for so long, feeling faintly off-kilter with every step for seven years, but had always just barely managed to feign composure and balance...but now, in a single moment, it was all for naught. He had fallen -- despite his best efforts, despite all of his avoidance and his flagrant cowardice -- into the wonderful, swirling abyss of ethereal, warm chaos that men called “love.” In that moment, and in many moments after, Orion cursed himself for not chasing after Carewyn Cromwell from the very start...for wasting so much time and being so passive, so short-sighted...so consumed by “what-if’s” that he’d completely discarded the “what-could-be’s.”

Fortunately there was a chance, now, to make up for lost time. A rose is no less beautiful just because it blooms slowly.

#my art #my writing #hphm #hogwarts mystery #orion amari #carewyn cromwell #murphy mcnully #skye parkin #katriona cassiopeia #angelo lancaster #talbott winger #other people's mcs #eos amari #orion's haircut is basically a 'long hair with an undercut' look #that way he can tie his hair up and have it completely off his neck when he's flying #and of course he still wears his classic arm warmers XD #can I also just say that as an INFP I totally get the feel of being overwhelmed by 'what-if's'#to the point that you're too paralyzed to actually act?#and yeah choosing between your dreams and a budding crush does seem like kind of an unpleasant crossroads #and I daresay after making the choice not to pursue a romance it would be that bit harder to try to pursue that person #orion and carey's lives ARE very different -- right down to where they live for their jobs london england VS montrose scotland #naturally they find a way to work that out but it would seem like a pretty significant obstacle #and honestly it's probably good that these two took some time apart #carey needed to come to grips with her asexuality before pursuing any other serious relationships #and now orion has some relationship experience under his belt too #plus carey and orion both have their own kids now! carewyn becomes erik apollo's legal guardian post-War #yay single parents!! 83

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bbyx · 4 years ago

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in your dreams - part one

Summary: Remus Lupin is head over heels for Narcissa, but she’s not allowed to date until her sister (y/n) has a boyfriend. As a solution, Remus enlists Sirius to become (y/n)’s boyfriend. Pairings: reader x sirius, remus x narcissa, lucius x narcissa, james x lily Disclaimer: This is basically harry potter universe x 10 things i hate about you. You DON’T need to have seen the movie to understand bc this is basically a retelling of the story. Also some of the dialogue has been taken straight from the movie. ALSO in this story Narcissa and Bellatrix are NOT Sirius’s cousins.

Hogwarts. It was beautiful, breathtaking even from the train window. The great castle looms into view, and (y/n) Knightley gets slightly tearful at the fact that this is the beginning of her last year at Hogwarts. A year from now you would hopefully begin your training as a healer at St.Mungos. That is if your father didn’t marry you off before that.

Your thoughts are abruptly interrupted by the compartment door sliding open. A group of giggling girls pop their heads in, blasting a horrendously high pitched song from a portable cassette player.

“Hi we’re the Promenade ball committee! Make sure to buy a ticket. It’ll be a night to remember!” One of them says in a sugar sweet voice, handing you a purple flyer. You simply roll your eyes as an answer and the girls leave, mumbling to themselves. You manage to hear a what a bitch through the high pitched singing. You glance down at the paper. It reads:

Promenade ball! Hogwarts class of 1978

May 22nd - 8:00 to 12:00

Tickets : 10 galleons each

You scrunch the paper into a ball and throw it out the open window.

Balls were stupid anyways.

Remus walked into Professor Myriads office, the head of Gryffindor house. He’s missed Hogwarts. Spending one year abroad at Ilvermorny was a great experience but it couldn't compete with the beauty of Hogwarts. In one year, so much had changed yet it still felt the same way it had in his first year. Strange but familiar.

“Remus Lupin. Welcome back! I hope you enjoyed your stay in America. Now I know you remember this school like the back of your hand but it is a Hogwarts rule that any returning students must be shown around the premises again. I’ve assigned Peter Pettigrew to be your guide for today.” She says motioning to Peter standing outside, waving excitedly. “You may go to class now.” The silver haired woman said, dismissing him quickly. Remus reached down for his bookbag when a shadow stood leaning in the doorway.

“Padfoot!”

“Moony! Missed you mate.” Sirius and Remus embraced each other tightly, Professor Myriad cleared her throat.

“Sirius Black. I see we're making our visits a weekly ritual. You better not get in trouble this year if you want to graduate.” She gave him a disapproving glance. He answered with a charming smile.

“Only so we can have these moments together. Should I, uh, get the lights?”

“Oh very clever Mr. Black. That’ll be ten points from Gryffindor.”

“Remus! Oh we’ve missed you so much. Tell me how it was. How were the states? Good god, so many things have changed in the past year.” Peter said, spitting out more questions than Remus could handle.

“It was nice, Ilvermorny was very laid back. They study native magic and lots of non verbal spells. I’ll tell you more at dinner.”

“Allright, let me give you the breakdown, even though you know most of this stuff.” Peter said.

They begin to walk around the grounds.

“Over there you’ve still got your basic beautiful people.” He motions to a group of students sitting under a tree. “To the left we have the coffee kids. A new developpement since Dippet allowed a coffee machine in the Great Hall.”

“Interesting.” Remus said, looking at the students who couldn’t seem to sit still.

One of them knocked over his cup, filled with rich brown liquid, onto the other’s lap. “Whoa”

“That was a Costa Rican, asshole!”

“Very edgy. Don’t make any sudden moves around them.” Peter added.

They now approached a few students dressed in large hats and leather boots.

“These guys…” Peter started.

“Wait wait. Let me guess. Cowboys?”

“Yeah, ever since that muggle movie Grayeagle came out.”

“Who would have thought that I would see more cowboys back at Hogwarts than the US.”

They now neared a group of students sitting on the grass, scribbling on parchment furiously.

“These are your future Ministers. Hey guys. How ya doin’?” Peter waved to the group. They rolled their eyes at him and went back to they’re books.

“Yesterday I was their god.” Peter said wistfully.

Remus chuckled, he had missed this atmosphere. “What happened.”

“Bogie Levenstein started a rumor that I...that I used an enchanted quill on my OWL’s.”

“Did you?” Remus asked, already knowing the answer.

“Not the point.” Muttered Peter.

“So they kicked you out?” Remus continued.

“Hostile takeover. But don’t worry. They’ll pay. Now over here…”

“Merlin’s sake.” Remus whispered as a beautiful, creamy skinned dark haired girl walked by.

“What group is she in?”

“The “don’t even think about it” group. That’s Narcissa Knightley. Fifth year.” Peter said, shaking his head at his friend. Remus' mouth was still agape as she walked past him with her friend.

“Yup, see, there’s a difference between “like” and “love”. Because I like my wand, but I love my Snakeskin backpack.” Narcissa explained to the other girl.

“But I love my wand.” Her friend says clutching her wand to her chest.

“That’s because you don’t have a snakeskin backpack.” Narcissa said, like it was the most obvious thing. Her friend looks enamoured by her wisdom.

“Oohhh.”

“Listen. Forget her. Incredibly uptight father, and it’s a widely known fact that the Knightley sisters aren’t allowed to date.” Peter said, shaking his Remus's shoulder.

“Uh huh...yeah.”

At dinner later that night, Remus couldn’t keep his gaze off the enchanting girl at the Slytherin table.

“Earth to Moony!” James said between mouthfuls.

“Mate, we haven’t seen you in months. Talk. Or would you rather go join the Slytherins.” Sirius says, glaring at the green robed students.

“He has a thing for Narcissa Knightley.” Remus gave Peter a death glare.

“She’s pretty, but not as pretty as Lily Evans.” James sighed, looking at the auburn haired girl.

“Prongs, you're still running after her? It’s been, what, three years of her constantly rejecting you.” Remus chuckled.

“At least Lily’s allowed to date.” James retorted.

“You guys are pathetic.” Sirius said, grinning cockily, knowing he could get any girl at Hogwarts easily.

“Okay then. What did everyone think of the Tales of the Wizard-Goblin war?” Professor Binns, Hogwarts only ghost professor, asked.

“I loved it. The part with Ginnamora was soooo romantic.” A clueless girl sighed.

“Romantic? Buckthorn?! He was an abusive alcoholic misogynist who squandered half his life hanging around Giraf Abbott trying to nail his leftovers.” (y/n) said to the girl, earning eyerolls from the other students.

Lucius Malfoy chuckles cockily. “As opposed to a bitter self-righteous hag who has no friends?”

Giggles erupt through the room. (y/n) doesn’t turn around to face him, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of knowing he’d pissed her off.

“I guess in this society being male and an asshole makes you worthy of our time.”

Just then, a dark haired boy strolls confidently inside the classroom.

“What’d I miss?” Sirius asked.

“The oppressive patriarchal values that dictate our education.” You answered, gritting your teeth furiously.

“Good.” He turned around and went back out of the room.

“Hey, hey!” The ghost professor looked like he was about to go after him but decided to stay put.

“Uh,Professor. Is there any chance we could get (y/n) to take her calming drought before she comes to class?” Lucius said, high fiving his fellow slytherins.

“Mr.Malfoy, someday you’re gonna get hexed and I’m not gonna do a thing to stop it. And Miss. Knightley. I want to thank you for your point of view.” Professor Binns stated. (y/n) smiled to herself.

Take that Malfoy.

“I know how difficult it must be for you to overcome all those years of pureblood oppression. It must be tough.” Professor Binns' words wiped the grin right off her face. (y/n) thanks Merlin that Lucius Malfoy, with his inflated ego, couldn’t see her face. Professor Binns continues.

“But the next time you storm around the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures crusading for better house elves, or whatever it is you wealthy purebloods complain about, ask them why they can’t buy a book written by a ghost!”

His normally monotone voice was now strident. Never in your six years at Hogwarts had you ever heard Professor Binns get so riled up. The whole class was taken about by his sudden burst of emotion. You quickly recover from your slight shock.

“Anything else?”

“Ten points from Gryffindor. Go to your head of house.” Professor Binns stated, sounding a little brittle.

“What?! Professor Binns!” You plead but he’s already started scribbling on the chalkboard. (y/n) storms out, making sure to hit Lucius Malfoy with her bag on the way.

Professor Myriad was scribbling a letter when you reached her office, knocking on the doorway to make your presence known. The silver haired woman lowered her glasses as you sat down in a crimson chair.

“So I hear you were terrorizing Professor Binns‘s class. Again.”

“With all due respect expressing my opinion is not a terrorist action.” You say, picking at your nails.

“The way you expressed your opinion to Richard Crabbe? By the way, his testicle retrieval operation went quite well, in case you're interested.” She remarqued, mentioning a particularly nasty quidditch fight between (y/n) and that idiot Crabbe.

“I still maintain that his broom malfunctioned and he kicked himself in the balls.” You answer cooly, trying your hardest not to let any emotion seep through your face.

Professor Myriad fumbled. “The point is (y/n)...People perceive you as somewhat …”

“Tempestuous?”

“"Heinous bitch" is the term used most often.” She states simply.

How flattering, Professor.

“You might want to work on that. Try being more like your sister.”

You raised your eyebrows at her comment because the woman clearly had no idea what she was getting into.

“Tell me Professor, which sister are we talking about? Bellatrix? Who was married off to some greasy pureblood the day after she graduated. Andromeda? Who followed her heart but was shunned from the family. Or Narcissa? Who at sixteen still, for the love of god, cannot tie her shoelaces.”

(y/n) rises from her chair and says, in her most sarcastic tone “As always, thank you for your excellent guidance.” before strolling out of the tiny office.

Lucius and his friends were sprawled in their usual spots under a tree. Someone in the group mumbles “Virgin alert” as Narcissa and Josie walk past. Lucius’s attention is immediately fixed on the innocent looking brunette. The girls notice him and wave shyly.

“Looking good ladies.”

“They’re outta reach, even for you.” Simon Nott said in a sing-song voice.

“No one’s out of reach for me.” Lucius says, sizing his friend up.

“You wanna put money on that?” Simon questions, leaning back against the tree. Lucius glances at Narcissa who’s laughing with a group of fifth year students,

“Money I’ve got. This I’m going to do for fun.”

From across the courtyard, Remus, James and Peter observe the way Lucius Malfoy is eyeing Narcissa, like a tiger watching his prey. Remus feels strangely protective of her, wanting to protect her from Lucius’s slimy paws. He gazed at her as she giggled, her dimples showing.

“Mate, look at her.” He said in a voice soft with affection.

James is clearly unimpressed. “Is she always so...vapid?”

“How can you say that? She’s totally…”

“Conceited?”Peter leered.

“What are you talking about Wormtail? There’s more to her than you think. I mean, look... look at the way she smiles. And look at her eyes, man. She’s totally pure. I mean, you’re missing what’s there.”

“No, Moony. No. What’s there is a snotty little Princess creating a strategically planned appearance to make guys like us realize we can never touch her, and guys like, uh…” Peter fumbled, looking across the courtyard. “...Lucis, realize they want to. She, my friend, is what we’ll spend the rest of our lives not having. Move on.”

“No.” Remus pouted stubbornly.

“Move on.” James quipped, repeating Peter’s words.

“No! You’re wrong about her. You’re so wrong.” Remus grumbled back.

“Alright. I’m wrong? You wanna take a shot? Be my guest. She’s actually looking for a Mermish tutor.”

Remus’s eyes light up. “Are you serious? That’s perfect!”

“Do you even speak Mermish?” James questioned. Remus flashed his bright teeth.

“Well no. But I will.”

#sirius black #sirius #sirius x reader #sirius x y/n #james potter #lucius malfoy #narcissa malfoy

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midnight1990 · 3 years ago

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Good Raven Chapter 1. Cofio — Remembering

July, 1995

As I unpack my trunk in the dusty, dingy room above the shop where my uncle, two brothers and two sisters live, I feel the slight dread of not knowing where my future will lead. I’m of age now and done with school, so finding work and avoiding trouble should be my first worries, but it ain’t just me I have to worry about. I can’t let the babanod grow up here for much longer — it’s eaten them and me for three years already.

We live in Knockturn Alley, the street off of lovely Diagon Alley where all of the things your decent witches and wizards won’t meddle in are sold; bought; traded or just plain found. In my uncle’s shop is sold potion ingredients, and because this is Knockturn Alley, they’re not normal ingredients — poisons; live creatures; contraband that he (Uncle) said if I ever told someone about he’d hex me for 7 years straight. He also threatened to feed me on only cold gruel if I sold anything cheap, ‘cause once I was all moved in those three years ago he was leaving me at the counter to haggle and sell while he went off to the Cauldron for drinks, or Borgin’s to try and buy even more nasty supplies to bring back to his own business.

I should be honest when I talk about the things we sell — they’re rather compelling. It’s a bit exciting to know that the fungi you’re holding (with a handkerchief that’s been charmed to keep the nerves in your hand from suddenly burning and losing all function) are one: that bloody dangerous and two: can put you on the ministry’s list of “Most Dark and Dangerous in Illicit Magical Trade”. Some of the things that the Ministry comes up with!

As interesting as my uncle’s business can be, me and the kids need our own place to live. It’s just too, well, dark in this alley. Ninety nine percent of the people who come through this place are just trying to get their business done; do their shopping — however ill-intentioned it may be — and go home, but that one percent that’s not so good is too noticeable for any decent body to want to raise four little ones here. I’ve been followed by a hag who wanted my fingernails (taken from a living witch or wizard, they’re more useful); groped by warlocks both drunken and sober; sang at by more drunken warlocks (some ditty with lyrics like “I once had a lass with a nice round ass” and it got even nastier) and I’ve even seen duels that ended up in the Prophet! One time, a curse missed its intended target and hit an old wizard who was just trying to get home with the flesh-eating slug repellent he’d bought! The poor old grandpa! I hope he lived.

I go into the smaller room across the hall where the boys sleep and of course Llon’s trunk is sitting wide open on the bed he and Afon, who’s only three, share. I see his rumpled up belongings and I know he scrambled to find his wand as soon as he got up here; I hid it in his trunk as soon we boarded the train to come back for his first summer holiday (and the rest of my life) so he wouldn’t try any last minute jinxes. Sometimes I’m amazed at how easily he obeys me, then again his most vivid experience with a female relative other than me is of Mam throwing him outside at night — all night — so she could drink and have a shag with that big warlock she came home with. He was nine, I was 15 and we were all lucky that it was spring holiday so’s I was home. I don’t know how they found out, but when the ministry officials who deal with family problems came a’visiting two days later, I was able to convince them to let the kids remain at Mam’s house so long as I was allowed to be there, courtesy of the school and a satisfied ministry witch. I had to write and beg Snape, McGonagall and Dumbledore himself to let me skip a few weeks. I remember feeling quite touched when the first two came to visit, a ministry witch in tow. I don’t think Dumbledore even considers his students well-being outside of Hogwarts.

Professor Snape was my head of house — good ol’ Slytherins looking out for each other — and I distinctly recall the feeling I had when I greeted him and McGonagall at the door that he’d been waiting for something like this to occur. You get that feeling when he looks at you sometimes - that he knows things about you.

I had expected McGonagall to be much less kinder than she actually was — more grave and pitying. She was certainly that way with Mam, “Eira, what have you gotten yourself and your family into?!”

Snape mostly sat all stiff in the chair I’d offered, his spidery black eyes glancing everywhere they could, taking in my raggedy siblings, Mam’s wan expression and the Welsh words doodled haphazardly on our cottage’s stone walls. Words like cariad — love — which had a bright pink heart drawn beside it and calon which had an arrow pointing from it to the rosy heart.

Witch, Welsh and Slytherin. That’s me. Even my name is Welsh, though my dad is English (obviously, my surname is Burke after all): Branda — brân dda — raven good; Good Raven. I have a middle name that isn’t Welsh at all, though; Patreva. Something Latin like what so many of our kind in Britain have — names like Draco, Severus or my Tad’s name, “Nicander” which may actually be Greek. It’s fancy and magical sounding. I’m the only one of my parent’s brood with any name like that — something about a Naming Seer who suggested it for me, but they never went back for their other four kids’s names. The younger ones have a Welsh name and that’s it. I like Welsh names quite a lot, though. Some of the names wizarding parents give their children are too — well — ostentatious is a good word.

Anyway, McGonagall, Snape and the quiet little ministry witch with the clipboard came to a decision: I could stay at home with Mam and the kids while the school year continued as long as one: Mam wasn’t bringing her “gentlemen friends” home anymore and two: I would take remedial lessons in all core classes the following school year.

“Of course, you will receive some lessons by post this spring and over the summer, miss Burke.” McGonagall can be so caring, sometimes.

“Your head of house has stated that you are among the more reliable students at Hogwarts, miss Burke.”

The little ministry witch hadn’t spoken at all to me, only to Mam and to my professors, but now she was gazing at me with what I believe was meant to be a placating — if somewhat sharp — look.

“He says you are quite skilled in his potions class as well as in mentoring the younger students.”

The look on Professor Snape’s face suggested this was meant to be unspoken. I’ve never had problems with Snape; he’s certainly a terror to many (okay, most) students, but he’s only ever had clipped praises or short orders for me to teach the first years how to behave without their parents around to guide them and comfort them and all that. A lot of the prefects were shite at that kind of thing.

Life at Mam’s with the kids was alright for awhile — could’ve probably gone quite tolerably if she hadn’t gone off to the Leakey Cauldron and met some bloke who took her to his flat in wherever-the-hell-it-was. Whatever they did in those six days she was gone, it was bad enough that he went to Azkaban, but not interesting enough for the Daily Prophet to report on. Mam got off, but us kids had to go live with the only relative who was willing to take us — Tad’s second-or-something cousin whom he’d done business with before Mam kicked him out: Mr. Donius Burke, purveyor of dark and illicit potion ingredients since 1974.

Fuck.

***

“Oi, girl! Come down here now! I need you for something!”

Calm down old man, I haven’t finished folding my jumpers yet. I shouldn’t be surprised that he’s already got a task for me, even though I’ve only been off the train for two hours. Sunset’s nearly come, and I don’t want to be outside in Knockturn Alley after dark, which ought to spur me faster down the stairs to see what he wants. Making him wait can feel too good though - not that he’s not willing to stomp his way up here which, as I put my last woolen top away, I can hear him doing. Thump, creak; thump creak; the ancient wooden steps groaning loudly as always. Has he still not fallen through them?!

“Are you going deaf?!”

I turn my head to look at him there, his reedy frame silhouetted from the dim light of the hallway. He hasn’t changed in the ten months since I’ve last seen him, and he hasn’t since we arrived here three years ago; grey hair slicked back, his aging face freakishly smooth without a hint of stubble (does he shave, or did he magic the hairs off?).

Before I can say anything he’s stepped into the room to stand over me.

“Get down there, now!”

He points his finger so forcefully that it’s curving up towards the ceiling, and I have to keep myself from glancing up to see if it’ll confuse him. He follows me out of the bedroom and down to the back of the shop, where Llon and the other two kids are on the floor playing with Mouser, the cranky black cat we keep to eat any mice or cockroaches in the the building.

Gwenyn is nine and has long blonde hair like Mam, round hazel eyes and a pink mischievous face. Next to her is five year-old Ffionwyn, who’s brown hair will turn nearly black like Tad’s and mine someday. For now, her head’s as shiny as a chestnut, with a pale face and a shifty quietness about her - probably because she’s been growing up in this dark hole of a place.

“Here”. A small roll of parchment is pressed into my hand.

“Take this to Aunt Onyxia, she’s been expecting it all day.”

He nods his head towards the children - “You can bring back the other one, as well.”

Of course, he’s talking about Afon, the youngest of the family. Three, dark haired and quiet like Ffionwyn, he had to come here when he was just four months old! Unwilling to keep a baby where his customers could hear him crying, Uncle struck a deal with the ministry officials who’d arranged for his guardianship — he would have to remain the legal guardian of Afon, but would be allowed to shunt him off to another adult so long as they were nearby and had no criminal record — a relative preferred. Enter Aunt Onyxia, Uncle Donius’s first cousin.

Onyxia Burke runs a “gift” shop right at the end of Knockturn Alley where she sells candles, cheap jewelry and clothing items, all of which are enchanted for various purposes; making someone fall in love with you; manipulating another’s dreams; even changing their moods or emotions. I hope she’s been keeping Afon away from her shit.

As I step through the door of my uncle’s shop into the balmy night air, I glance up at the old wooden sign hanging above the door: “Apothecary” it reads, surrounded by engraved bats, spiders and toads. I force a heavy breath through my nose as memories come creeping up again, for we used to sell those things — well, Mam ‘n Tad did - before everything went to Hell.

Mam ‘n Tad were gatherers and procurers of potion ingredients. Magical plants and animals, of course, some of which you must have a special permit to collect, but also things that are not so magical — bats, rats and adders; green things that grow in your back garden like nettles and dandelions; even farm animals like chickens and goats, the latter of which produce bezoars —hard stones that form in their gut and which counteract poisons.

Things that could not be grown or raised near our home (a dragon in the barn might’ve been a bit troublesome) we would search for. This was the best part of my family’s livelihood. Tad would research where things could be found, and we would gather our equipment and head off to some chosen spot ready to work.

He taught me to do many things without magic, which I never knew was unusual for our kind —until I went to Hogwarts. Nobody else knew how to butcher a chicken or start a fire without a wand (except maybe a few muggleborns, but even most of them didn’t know how, either)! My classmates didn’t seem to know what to make of me until the incident with Hagrid’s giant chicken.

One of Hagrid’s roosters had grown to a rather impressive size, comparable to that of a Shetland pony (he had to have charmed it somehow). Well, one day it managed to escape the coop and terrorize the courtyard where all of us first years were learning broom maintenance. Madam Hooch was knocked over before she even saw it, and a boy called Derrick attempted to scare it by kicking it away, his robed arms flapping all around him whilst yelling at it to go away. Unfortunately, Drumsticks now thought Derrick was trying to start a real cock-fight — chest to chest, wings flapping and spurs kicking!

Before it finished its little war-dance with his head bobbing low, neck-feathers puffed out trembling, I’d managed to grab one of the brooms off the work table; as soon as Drumsticks began to step towards Derrick I ran towards that overgrown alarm-clock and jabbed it as hard as I could with that broomstick!

I won’t say it was a smart idea, but the frustration I’d felt over those first weeks at school — people giggling behind their hands when I spoke in my Welsh accent; discovering that students in other houses whom I’d wanted to befriend would scoff at the idea of hanging around with a Slytherin — seemed to take hold of me. It felt good when the broom’s handle hit Drumsticks’ chest, shocking him backwards and confusing him so. It’s likely a good thing that Hooch had finally recovered herself enough to properly stun that scaly-footed bastard before I’d lost my mind completely — that broomstick was starting to feel like a skewer.

Dinner that evening consisted of a hearty chicken soup, platters of little chicken pies, mashed potatoes, boiled peas and fresh, steamy bread rolls on the side.

Oh, and most everyone in my year stopped calling me “Spleens”.

Tad had been bi— Tad had been given the boot by Mam by the the time I’d started school, and in the summers I’d been the one to continue most of the hunting work while Mam settled herself with tending the garden and foraging for plants. Mam knew the work alright, but she’d mainly been the one to keep records of what was brought home; researching the markets and packaging items properly. Didn’t take long for Tad’s absence to start its work on her though, did it? A little kid can only hunt so many kinds of creatures, and of course I couldn’t have a permit to collect things like doxy venom or dragon eggshells, nor could I travel more than a few miles from home.

Soon the goats were sold to another ingredi-wizard, then any magical plants in our garden that required consistent tending died. I didn’t understand how that could’ve happened, not at the time anyway. Mam was good at hiding her drinking back then. Since we were no longer able to provide the great amount of products as before, businesses started abandoning us for more reliable resources.

Sometimes — just every once in awhile — Tad would show up for a visit.

“Only a few days” I imagine Mam whispering harshly, fearfully, her eyes darting ‘round as though expecting whatever forces demanded they keep apart to come bursting out of her cottage’s walls.

He always went out to try and gather more for us to sell, did Tad. He didn’t take me anywhere with him that was outside of the county, though. The last time I went with him was at the beginning of summer after my third year at Hogwarts. He looked so much older than I’d remembered, or perhaps I hadn’t paid enough attention during his previous visits? Grey streaks were beginning to shoot through his thick black hair, which hadn’t been cut in years. He walked slower than I was used to, moving like his body had turned all sore and stiff; his head constantly swiveled around as we worked, as though the very land that surrounded us could not be trusted.

“Don’t let your sisters and your brother stay inside all day. Teach them how to look after themselves, better than your mam or I have done for ourselves”.

Until he said that, it hadn’t really occurred to me just how reckless my parents were compared to those of my classmates. Before Tad had been forced to leave, he and Mam had thought little of hauling me, toddling Llon and squalling Gwenyn to all kinds of strange and exciting places — places I now know where most parents wouldn’t allow their children to set foot. When they needed to collect dragon eggshells from high up in the mountains, us kids sometimes went along.

I learned where to find snakes before I was seven; how to untangle wire snares without slicing my wrist open when I was eight. I nearly drowned in a lake searching for plimpys — round little creatures with long legs you can tie together — Tad said that’s how Merpeople deal with them because they consider them pests.

My parents also enjoyed firewhiskey. Many times after we’d spent a long day trekking through bracken for mokes and doxy eggs, or slogging around in muddy ditches for flobberworms, Mam ‘n Tad would build up a fire. We would toast sausages, slices of bread and even apples for supper, while two of them added the throat-burning drink to their meal. I can’t recall the bottle ever not being empty the next morning.

The drinking didn’t interfere with much until after Tad was gone.

It’s a wonder all of us kids have lived to see three.

I worry Afon won’t recognize me, after I’ve stayed all year at Hogwarts instead of returning to the Alley during holidays. I know I have a responsibility to my siblings, but the Triwizard tournament and its accompanying delights were hard to resist. Uncle was furious when I refused to return to work at Christmas, while Onyxia wrote that I should try and catch a wealthy boy from Beauxbatons, though a Durmstranger would do.

By the time I make it to Onyxia’s front door the few glass street lamps holding charmed candles have sprung to life, casting faint and eerie shadows. I’ve only just touched the brass kneazle-head knocker when the door is wrenched open from behind.

“It’s about time - oh, Patreva! I hadn’t realized you’d returned already!”

I curl my lips into the sparest of smiles — it’s often a struggle to remain polite with this woman. Patreva is my middle name, not my real name. I don’t even know what it means, and Mam ‘n Tad always avoided using it.

“Noswaith dda, Modryb. Sut ydych chi?”

The pleasure I feel when I speak Welsh at Onyxia is the same as ever: sweet but all too bloody short.

“Patreva Burke! You know far better than to speak that way, to me!”

As if she understood a word I’ve just said?! She’s convinced that any language other than French or Latin is used to disparage her.

“Llon and I came back a few hours ago, Auntie. Uncle Donius sent me to give you this” - I hand her the roll of parchment - “and to take Afon back with me”.

Onyxia stares at the parchment in her hand, eyes narrowing in obvious displeasure.

“Did he send me no money, girl?”

Uh-oh

“I haven’t stolen it, if that’s what you’re thinking!”

Her eyes have gotten even narrower, if that’s possible.

“No, no girl. I suppose...I should’ve expected as much...this time.”

She isn’t looking at me as she says this, rather she’s gazing nowhere in particular at the space behind me, as if suddenly lost in thought...

“Well, wait here a moment, then. Here’s the boy’s belongings.” Before shuffling down her entryway she reaches down and hands me a midsized bag filled with clothes, children’s medicines and very few toys. No tea to be had in her house, apparently. Rude sow.

“Here you are, girl.” Onyxia appears at the door with my youngest brother in tow, his eyes widening at the sight of me and his fist going to his mouth in an image of absolute preciousness.

“Oooh fy mach i! Fy mrawd cy-“

“Speak English to him!” Shrieks the old hag I am forced to respect. “I had to teach him prop—“

But I’m not staying for her xenophobic rant tonight, and neither is fy mrawd bach — my little brother. He’s had enough, and I’ve had enough.

“Goodnight Auntie! Thank you for taking care of him, we need to go back!”

And with that, Afon and I are trotting up the alleyway and into the warm summer night.

Well, I’m trotting; Afon’s on my back.

#harry potter fic #death eaters #order of the phoenix #hp fanfic #lucius malfoy #slytherin #knockturn alley #dark fanfiction #my coping mechanism

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longitudinalwaveme · 4 years ago

Text

Power Outage

The Flash stars in: Power Outage

Dramatis Personae

The Flash (Jay Garrick), the wise, benevolent hero of Central City

Joan Garrick, Jay’s intelligent, charming wife

Captain Cold, the earthy, practical leader of the Rogues and Central City’s worst villain

Golden Glider, a thrill-seeking, deceptively charming thief and little sister of the above

Weather Wizard, a lazy, dimwitted crook who works with Captain Cold

Script

Act I

(Enter Jay and Joan)

Joan: Honey, I’m worried about you.

Jay: Why? Any particular reason?

Joan: I don’t like how you’ve decided to protect Central City all by yourself while Barry and Wally go on vacation together for two weeks. You’re not as young as you used to be, you know, and I don’t want you to get hurt chasing down supervillains who are half your age.

Jay: Why didn’t you tell me that earlier, honey?

Joan: Well, Barry and Wally seemed so excited to be able to get away for awhile, and you seemed so happy to have a chance to come out of retirement, so I was afraid I would disappoint you if I said anything about it.

Jay: Joan, you know me better than that. Sure, I do love a little crime fighting, but that’s not nearly as important to me as you are. If I’d known that you were that worried about me, I would never have agreed to come out of retirement.

Joan: Well, it’s too late for you to change your mind now-Barry and Wally are already halfway to England, and you can’t leave the city unprotected.

Jay: I’ll be careful, Joan.

Joan: Oh, I know you will, dear. You couldn’t have survived this long as a hero if you hadn’t.

Jay: And you’re sure you’re okay if I go out?

Joan: I suppose. I just worry about you.

Jay: I know, and that’s why I’m so careful. I know that you’re waiting for me, so I can’t take any unnecessary risks. I can’t bear the idea of my dying and leaving you all alone.

Joan: Oh, Jay, I don’t worry about you because I don’t want to be alone-I worry about you because I don’t want you to be hurt.

Jay: Every hero risks that, Joan. It’s part of the job.

Joan: I know, but you’re just so athletic and you love to run. I’d hate to see you get injured and lose your ability to exercise.

Jay: Have I ever mentioned that I’m blessed to have you for my wife?

Joan: Every day, dear, every day-and I’m blessed to have you for my husband.

Jay: Thank you, darling. I love you so much.

Joan: I love you, too.

(Jay and Joan kiss, then Jay’s phone rings and he pulls it out)

Jay: Hello? Hello, Commissioner. Yes, I am filling in for Barry and Wally while they’re on vacation. Yes, I’ll be at work protecting the city soon. Mmm-hmm. Uh-huh. Yes, I’m sure I’m still up to the task. I may be old, but I’m as fast as ever. Oh, it’s no problem, Commissioner. I love Central City-I certainly don’t mind protecting it. Thanks, but that won’t be necessary. I don’t need any money. Mmm-hmm. Uh-huh. Tell your wife happy birthday for me. I’ll be sending her flowers soon. And send Officer Johnson my condolences. No one should lose their wife that way. Mm-hmm. Uh-huh. All right, Commissioner. I’ll be watching for them. Okay. Okay. Good-bye. (Jay puts phone away)

Joan: What did the Commissioner tell you?

Jay: He was just checking to make sure that I was ready to protect the city-and to warn me that Captain Cold broke the Golden Glider out of jail, and that they and the Weather Wizard are on the loose.

Joan: Captain Cold and Weather Wizard I remember, but who is Golden Glider?

Jay: If I recall correctly, her name is Lisa Snart. She’s a former ice skater who apparently got bored with her career and decided to turn to crime-and she’s Captain Cold’s little sister.

Joan: A supervillain who’s a woman? Why, I never!

Jay: Villany isn’t exclusively the department of men, you know.

Joan: I suppose that’s true. How dangerous are they?

Jay: It’s hard to say, but since Captain Cold likes to avoid attention, they’re unlikely to try anything too diabolical.

Joan: Well, that’s one good thing, I suppose.

Jay: Agreed. (Pause) Well, I’d better get going. Love you, Joan.

Joan: I love you, Jay. Good luck!

Jay: Thank you. Good-bye, dear.

Joan: Good-bye, darling. (Exit Jay) I hope Jay knows what he’s getting into. He’s been retired for a long time, and those villains are young enough to be our children. If he gets himself into trouble, I’ll never forgive myself. (Pause) Well, standing around here and worrying isn’t going to change a thing, so I might as well start making some plans of my own!

Act II

(Enter Captain Cold and Golden Glider. Weather Wizard is asleep onstage, and a doll and a large necklace are sitting next to him)

Cold: Stop trying to peek, sis. You’ll ruin the surprise!

Glider: I’m not peeking!

Cold: Oh, what the heck, go ahead and look.

Glider: (Sees presents) Oh my gosh! Lenny, you didn’t!

Cold: Happy birthday, sis.

Glider: (grabs the necklace) How did you afford this? It’s beautiful!

Cold: Uh….about that….

Glider: You stole it for me, didn’t you?

Cold: No! I robbed a bank and used the money to buy it.

Glider: How come the Flash didn’t stop you?

Cold: I got lucky, I guess.

Glider: (Picks up doll) And what would this be? Cold: You don’t recognize that?

Glider: No. Am I supposed to?

Cold: Seriously? You asked for that for your birthday and Christmas like every year!

Glider: I did?

Cold: Uh-huh. Don’t you remember? When I couldn’t find it for your sixth birthday, you cried for like ten minutes and then Lewis beat the living daylights out of both of us because you woke him up.

Glider: Lewis beat the living daylights out of us on like every one of my birthdays. That doesn’t narrow things down much.

Cold: It’s still got the tag on it. Maybe that’ll help you remember.

Glider: (Reads) “Lucy”. (Pause; laughs) Lucy? The doll I was obsessed with as a kid? But she went off the shelves when I was eight years old. How did you find this one?

Cold: Well, I’ve been scouring garage sales and thrift stores and stuff for the thing around your birthday every year since you were eight. The odds were in favor of me finding one eventually, especially given how popular the thing was when you were little, and I finally found this one two weeks ago at that creepy Goodwill downtown.

Glider: Are you telling me that you’ve been trying to find this doll for me for 25 years ?

Cold: Of course. Given how much misery the stupid thing caused for both of us, I couldn’t’ve lived with myself if I hadn’t.

Glider: So even though, in the same general time period, you’ve given me 4 different cars, several dozen necklaces, and several thousand dollars in cash, you still felt obligated to get me a doll that I wanted when I was eight just because you couldn’t get me it then?

Cold: Well, yeah. Don’t you remember that I promised you I would get it for you someday?

Glider: Vaguely.

Cold: Well, I finally did! Don’t you like it?

Glider: No. (Cold looks upset, then she hugs him) But I do like you, Lenny. I’m glad you think so much about me. You’re the best big brother in the world.

Cold: Okay, enough with the mushy stuff. I didn’t break you out of prison just to celebrate your birthday, you know.

Glider: Ooh, do you have a heist planned?

Cold: You’d better believe it, sis.

Glider: Hurrah! This day just keeps getting better and better! What’s the angle?

Cold: I’ll tell you as soon as I wake up Mardon.

Glider: What’s he doing here? Didn’t he win the lottery or something?

Cold: He did, but now he’s broke-again-and needs a place to stay. Again.

Glider: There’s a shock.

Cold: (To Wizard) Yo, Mardon, look alive! We’ve got a job to pull! (Wizard doesn’t respond. Cold throws a pillow at his head)

Wizard: What time is it?

Cold: It’s two in the afternoon, you lazy bum. Get up- we’ve got a job to do.

Wizard: But I’m still tired, Cold! I just spent two weeks without a roof over my head!

Cold: Yeah, because you spent all your cash on parties, gambling, and cars you couldn’t afford. Again.

Wizard: I was doing it to impress my new friends!

Cold: The friends who skipped town as soon as you ran out of money?

Wizard: Yeah.

Cold: I rest my case. Honestly, Mardon, why I bother to keep you around is beyond me.

Wizard: Because of my charming personality and dashing good looks?

Glider: Definitely not that.

Cold: It’s because you have a wand that can control the weather, you doofus!

Wizard: Uh, about that. I may have accidentally kind of broken the wand a couple days ago.

Cold: HOW?

Wizard: Well, I was robbing a gas station when the thunderstorm I created to short out the power grid got a little out of control. I got struck by my own lightning, and the wand flew out of my hand and into a tree and snapped in half. And, uh, I didn’t even actually manage to rob the gas station, because when the wand broke, the thunderstorm cleared up before it could take out the power. Well, that and I was still recovering from the whole getting struck by lightning thing. So yeah. No more weather powers.

Cold: Can’t you just-you know-fix the wand?

Wizard: No. I don’t know how it works!

Cold: What do you mean you don’t know how it works? You’ve been using it for like 14 years!

Wizard: I stole it from Clyde, remember? He’s the one who built it! I don’t have a clue how he made it or how it actually produces its effects- I just know it works. Er, worked.

Cold: Clyde?

Wizard: You know, Clyde! My older brother who was better than me at everything!

Cold: Okay, then we’ll just ask him to fix it.

Wizard: We can’t. He’s dead, and he was kind of a recluse, so it’s not like he had any partners who were watching him build the thing.

Cold: Are you telling me that your wand is permanently broken?

Wizard: Yeah, that’s what I’m telling you.

Cold: Well, that’s just great. Now I’m going to have to change my plans, and it’s all because the man who had the most powerful weapon in the world was enough of a brain-dead moron to both never learn how the thing worked and to break it!

Glider: And on his little sister’s birthday, too!

Cold: Yeah, and on her birthday, too!

Wizard: Sorry?

Cold: You know what? If you don’t have your wand, then you’re useless to me.

Wizard: You’re kicking me out?

Cold: Not yet. You’re one of us, after all-but you aren’t getting a cent from our heists until you figure out a way to either fix the wand or provide some other asset to them, and if you can’t do that in a month, then you’ll have to find someone else’s basement to live in. I ain’t running no charity here, Mardon.

Wizard: Are you saying I’m not a good thief without my wand?

Cold: No, I’m saying that you were a mediocre thief with the wand and that you are a terrible one without it. Powers or no powers, you’re pathetic.

Wizard: Nobody talks to the Weather Wizard like that! Nobody! (Punches at Cold. Cold catches his punch, and then Glider knees Wizard in the abdomen. Wizard falls to the ground and Cold “freezes” his left leg to the ground with his gun.)

Cold: Well, maybe no one talks to the Weather Wizard like that, but until or if you fix the wand, you aren’t the Weather Wizard, you’re just Mark Mardon.

Glider: And we can talk to an idiot like Mark like that all we want.

Cold: See you after the heist, loser.

(Exit both)

Wizard: (Breaks ice on leg and sits up) How can this be happening to me? A month ago, I was a millionaire and the most powerful crook in the world, and now look at me. I’m broke and my wand is broke and now Cold says I ain’t even the Weather Wizard anymore. If I didn’t know better, I’d say he was right about me bein’ a pathetic idiot. (Pause) Oh, who am I kidding? They’re right. Without the wand, I’m nothin’ more than stupid, pathetic Mark Mardon. (Pause) I need a drink or something. Anything would be better than sitting around thinking about how bad my luck’s been lately-or working to try and fix the wand!

Act III

(Wizard is sitting at the bar of a restaurant. Enter Joan)

Joan: Nothing like a nice cup of coffee to take my mind off my worries. (To Weather Wizard) Excuse me, sir, but is this seat taken?

Wizard: Huh?

Joan: I was wondering if this seat was taken.

Wizard: It’s not.

Joan: All right, then. (Sits down next to him) I’m Joan Garrick. Who are you?

Wizard: Name’s Mark. Mark Mardon.

Joan: Are you here by yourself?

Wizard: Yeah. You?

Joan: Well, I normally come here with my husband, but today I’m alone, too.

Wizard: Why? You have a fight with him or something?

Joan: No. He’s just filling in for some friends at work today.

Wizard: Are all your other friends busy, too?

Joan: No. As a matter of fact, after I eat lunch here, I’m going to my friend Betsy’s house to help her sew some clothing for her latest grandchild.

Wizard: Boy or girl?

Joan: Girl. Her name is Maria, and she’s only a month old.

Wizard: Is she cute?

Joan: All babies are cute, Mr. Mardon-just like all brides are beautiful.

Wizard: Not according to my baby pictures!

Joan: Oh, hush! (Pause) So, why are you here alone?

Wizard: Trust me, it’s not by choice. I can’t stand being alone without my power.

Joan: Have you fallen on hard times, then?

Wizard: Yeah. I’m pretty much broke, and my friends have made it pretty clear that they won’t give me any money until I can help them, which I can’t.

Joan: Are you sure these people are your friends?

Wizard: (Shrugs) They haven’t kicked me to the curb yet.

Joan: Don’t you have your own home?

Wizard: Not any more!

Joan: Oh, dear, you are in a mess, aren’t you?

Wizard: No duh, lady.

Joan: Is there anything I can do to help?

Wizard: Not unless you’re a millionaire.

Joan: No such luck, I’m afraid.

Wizard: Too bad. I could use that money. (Pause) You always start conversations with random strangers in restaurants?

Joan: No. You just seemed to need some company, and since I was alone, I decided to provide it.

Wizard: Why? There’s nothing all that special about me-at least not the way I am now.

Joan: Because I know how it feels to be lonely. My husband is wonderful, but he’s also very busy, so I spent a lot of time by myself before he retired.

Wizard: Why do you love him so much if he spends so much time away from you?

Joan: Because he’s a good man who sacrifices himself for me. The least I can do is make sacrifices for him in return. After all, a big part of love is being willing to sacrifice your own desires for the people that you love.

Wizard: That sounds like an awful lot of work, lady.

Joan: Sometimes it can feel like it, I’m afraid-but it’s worth it to experience genuine love.

Wizard: I think I’ll pass.

Joan: How can you say that? Haven’t you ever loved anyone?

Wizard: No-and no one’s ever loved me, either, except maybe my older brother, Clyde-and that was only ‘cause he felt bad for me.

Joan: Felt bad for you-why?

Wizard: Because I was a lazy bum right from the start, that’s why. No ambition-not that there would’ve been much of a point in trying, what with Clyde bein’ a genius and a great athlete and all. Even if I had decided to try, Mom and Pop would’ve liked him better, ‘cause I never coulda been as good as he was. The only thing I was ever good at was getting lucky.

Joan: You sound almost proud of yourself for that!

Wizard: Well, it beats feeling terrible about myself.

Joan: Not if it keeps you from improving yourself.

Wizard: Now you sound like Clyde.

Joan: Well, in that case, I would suggest that you listen to your brother on occasion.

Wizard: I can’t. He’s dead now.

Joan: Oh, I’m sorry to hear that.

Wizard: Don’t be. It was a while ago, and I was never real close to him anyway. He was too perfect.

Joan: Aren’t you close to anyone?

Wizard: No one I don’t work with.

Joan: Well, if you don’t mind, I plan to fix that.

Wizard: But you don’t know anything about me!

Joan: I know that you have a dead brother, some questionable friends, and a somewhat self-destructive lifestyle.

Wizard: Oh, believe me, you don’t know the half of it.

Joan: And I won’t pry. Are you up for continuing the conversation?

Wizard: I guess. (Pause) You are the weirdest woman I’ve ever met.

Joan: I know-but I’d like to think I make decent company anyway.

Wizard: You’re better company than my partners, at least.

Joan: That’s always nice to hear. So, is there anything you particularly like to eat?

Act IV

(Enter Cold and Glider)

Cold: Okay, sis, I’ve taken out the alarms. Are you ready for the biggest heist of our career?

Glider: You bet, Lenny! This is so exciting!

Cold: And you’re sure you’re not mad about us doing this on your birthday?

Glider: Of course not! In fact, I can’t think of a way I’d rather be spending my day.

Cold: (Aside) I could think of several ways I’d rather see her spending her day, but if this makes her happy, I can’t refuse her. (To Glider) I’m glad you’re enjoying yourself. Now let’s move!

(Enter Jay Garrick)

Jay: Stop in the name of the law!

Cold: Well, well, well. Look who it is. It’s Grandpa Flash. Aren’t you retired?

Jay: As long as criminals like you are roaming the streets, I’ll never be truly retired.

Glider: Wow. You sound like a really bad Saturday morning cartoon show.

Jay: Perhaps that line was a bit hackneyed, but then again, so are supervillainous bank robberies. It’s not like the two of you invented that idea, you know.

Glider: No, we just perfected it.

Jay: I’ll give you one chance to surrender peacefully.

Cold: And I’ll give you the same chance, Grandpa Flash. I don’t particularly want to beat up an old man like you.

Jay: Old or not, I would never surrender to a criminal.

Glider: Okay then, Grandpa-let’s dance!

(Starts “skating” around him)

Jay: (Knocks her down) I don’t dance with anyone but Joan, miss.

Cold: Leave her alone, old man! (Shoots at Jay and misses)

Jay: You’re good, son. It’s quite a pity you decided to waste your talents on crime.

Cold: Don’t call me son! (Shoots wildly and misses badly)

Glider: (Gets back on her feet and tries to hit Jay from behind, but he catches her punch) Let me go, you old geezer!

Jay: Sorry, daughter. I’m afraid that’s a no can do. You’ve violated the laws of our fair nation, and you must pay the penalty for your actions.

Glider: (Aside) Is this guy for real? (Breaks Jay’s hold) Only if you can keep ahold of me! (Captain Cold finally manages to hit Jay while Jay is attempting to recapture his sister)

Jay: Nice try, son, but I’ve gotten out of worse traps than this before! (He breaks free)

Cold: DON’T CALL ME SON! (Starts shooting wildly again as Glider begins to enter the bank)

Jay: (Dodges Cold’s blasts and grabs Glider) Oh, no, you don’t, child.

Glider: (Steps on his foot; Jay screams and releases her) Oh, yes, I do.

Jay: (Aside) As much as I hate to admit it, Joan’s worries may be more valid than I wanted to admit. These younger villains are wearing me down pretty well. (Manages to grab the Glider again, only for both to be hit by a wild shot from Cold, who runs over and smashes the ice around his sister. Jay vibrates free a few seconds later, but both villains have moved out of his way in the meantime)

Glider: (Aside to Cold) How is it possible that this old guy is harder to fight than the other two?

Cold: (Aside to Glider) Never mind that-just get into the bank! (He starts shooting again and Glider moves towards the bank, only to be stopped for the second time by our hero. Cold stops shooting when this happens to avoid hitting his sister again)

Glider: We’ve got to stop meeting like this, Grandpa.

Jay: Well, if all goes as planned, child, you won’t be meeting me for several years.

Glider: Why do you keep calling me child? I’m your enemy, not some dopey little kid.

Jay: Force of habit, I’m afraid. After all, you and your brother are young enough to be my children-though I would have raised my children to have better manners.

Cold: SHUT UP, FLASH! (He rushes at Jay, who dodges him, manages to keep a hold on Glider, and then handcuffs both of them)

Glider: Well, this is turning out to be a lousy birthday!

Jay: It’s your birthday?

Glider: Yeah.

Jay: Then I am sorry that you and your brother were foolish enough to break the law on it, child.

Cold: Stop calling her that.

Jay: Why? It’s not an insult.

Cold: It’s what Lewis used to call her. If that’s not an insult, I don’t know what is.

Jay: Who?

Cold: Our “father”. He treated us like trash. If that’s being someone’s child, I’d rather die.

Jay: (Aside) So that’s why he kept-pardon the horrible pun-losing his cool. When I called him son, it seems I was bringing back some ugly memories. (To Cold) Very well, then. I’ll stop calling her child.

Cold: Good. No one upsets my baby sister.

Glider: Before you take me away, old man, would you mind bringing me something real quick? It was the best birthday present I’ve ever gotten.

Jay: I’m afraid I don’t trust you two enough to leave you alone here. If you want to see it, I’ll have to take you with me.

Glider: (Aside) Well, it was worth a shot- and I do want to see it. (To Jay) Okay, that works. The gift’s in our hideout on Seventh and Main.

(Cut to hideout)

Jay: Which one is it?

Glider: The doll. (Jay hands it to her)

Cold: But I thought you said you didn’t like it!

Glider: Lenny, she isn’t the present-the fact that you spent 25 years looking for her is. Having a brother like you was the best present of all.

Cold: Aww, shucks. It was nothing, sis.

Jay: Now who sounds like a bad TV show?

Glider: It’s still you, gramps.

Jay: Unfortunately for the two of you, you still have quite a debt to pay to society. Let’s get you back where you belong.

Act V

(Joan and Wizard are still sitting at the counter. Joan has a cup of coffee now)

Wizard: And then I got a concussion.

Joan: (Aside) Well, one thing’s for sure: this fellow wasn’t kidding when he said that I didn’t know the half of his self-destructive lifestyle! In fact, I’m slightly surprised he’s still alive. (To Wizard) And this was before you dropped out of high school?

Wizard: Two weeks after, actually.

Joan: I’m starting to think you might need more help than I can give you, Mr. Mardon.

Wizard: Told you. (Pause) And just call me Mark.

Joan: Well, Mark, have you ever considered seeing a counselor?

Wizard: You mean a shrink? No way, lady. I’m stupid, not crazy.

Joan: Going to a counselor doesn’t mean you’re crazy. In fact, a lot of the time, it means that you’re smart enough to realize that you need help to change.

Wizard: Who said I wanted to change?

Joan: No one-but by your own testimony, you’re responsible for the mess you’re in right now, and nothing will get better for you until you decide to change your life.

Wizard: Seriously, are you sure you never met Clyde? Because you sound just like him.

(Enter Jay)

Jay: Hello, Joan.

Joan: Hello, sweetheart. What a pleasant surprise!

Jay: Well, I already recaptured Captain Cold and the Golden Glider, so I decided to stop by and visit my lovely wife.

Joan: Oh, Jay, stop flattering me.

Wizard: Your husband is the Flash?

Joan: Oh, I can’t believe I forgot to mention that! Mark, this is my husband, Jay Garrick, the first Flash. Jay, this is Mark Mardon. He and I have been having a little chat.

Jay: Joan, get away from him-now!

Joan: Why? He’s not bothering me.

Jay: Joan, Mark Mardon is the Weather Wizard!

Joan: You’re a supervillain?

Wizard: Yeah.

Joan: When were you planning on mentioning that fact?

Wizard: Well, I wasn’t planning on mentioning it at all, because I assumed that you knew who I was. Although, now that I think about it, your not knowing would explain why you didn’t freak out when you saw me. (Pause) No hard feelings, right?

Joan: I’m not sure what I’m feeling, honestly.

Jay: How long have you been here together?

Joan: About an hour, I think.

Jay: And you never recognized him?

Wizard: Well, in her defense, I’m out of costume and you and I haven’t fought much. There wasn’t all that much of a reason for her to recognize me without my gear.

Jay: And you didn’t realize that she was my wife?

Wizard: Nope. In fact, I’m not sure I’ve ever seen her before.

Jay: Son, if I find out that you’re lying about that and this was a plan to kidnap her or something, you will regret it.

Wizard: Kidnap her? Why? I don’t hate you nearly enough to do something like that-and besides, I’d have to be crazy to kidnap her now. My wand’s been broken for a week, and I can’t fix it, so I’d have to have a death wish to make you angry at me.

Jay: You can’t control the weather any more?

Wizard: Sadly, no-and that means that you won’t be hearing from the Weather Wizard again. Without the wand, I don’t have the talent to be a supervillain, and if word got out that one of the Rogues was back to picking pockets, I’d be the joke of the underworld. I’d rather quit crime than go through that sort of humiliation.

Joan: Well, while I certainly don’t admire your reasoning, I’d say that quitting crime is the best life decision you’ve ever made, Mark. At the very least, it’ll certainly make the city safer.

Wizard: Okay, so now what happens?

Jay: I don’t know. That would depend on whether you’ve committed a crime since you got out on parole four months ago.

Wizard: Why would I tell you if I had?

Joan: Because if you do, he’ll be a lot less angry than if you lie to him and he finds out later.

Wizard: You make a good point, lady. (To Jay) I tried to rob a gas station by knocking out the power, but before I could actually knock out the power or do anything, I got struck by lightning and my wand broke, so I didn’t actually try to steal anything. Is that attempted robbery?

Jay: I’m afraid we’ll have to let a jury decide that, son.

Wizard: And since I don’t have my weather wand, I ain’t about to get humiliated by trying to escape from a guy with super speed and then failing.

Joan: You know, for a man with such limited common sense, it’s amazing how practical you can be when it helps you save face.

Wizard: Well, considering I already lost a million dollars and my powers, I’ve kinda had my fill of being laughed at and called an idiot for the year.

Joan: So, you can change after all.

Wizard: (Shakes head) Lady, you’re something else. I’m not sure if it’s a good something else or a stupid something else, but you’re something else.

Jay: All right, son, time to go.

Wizard: (To Joan) See you around, lady. It was nice talking to you.

Joan: I suppose I’m glad you appreciated it. Good-bye, Mark.

(Jay exits with Wizard, then returns)

Jay: Are you alright, Joan?

Joan: Yes, I’m fine. He didn’t really do anything to hurt me, after all.

Jay: Oh, thank goodness. If he’d hurt you, I’d never forgive myself.

Joan: See, now you know how I feel!

Jay: Why, Joan, I think you’re right!

Joan: Have I ever mentioned that I love you?

Jay: I’m not sure. You know how our memories get at our age.

Joan: (Laughs) Well, then, Jay, I love you more than you can imagine.

Jay: And I love you to the moon and back.

(They kiss)

Joan: Oh, that reminds me-I need to go to Betsy’s house! My, I can’t imagine what she’ll think when I tell her that I had coffee with a supervillain!

Jay: The same thing that I do: that you’re the bravest, kindest woman on the face of the Earth. (Pause) Do you want me to take you to her house before I go back on patrol?

Joan: Oh, of course!

Jay: Then your chariot awaits you, my lady.

Joan: Oh, Jay, that’s so cheesy!

#jay garrick #flash rogues #dc comics #fanfic

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twoidiotwriters1 · 5 years ago

Text

Written In The Stars XXIII (Harry Potter xFem!Oc)

A/N: I already finished this book as well and I’m currently writing book three, I’ve never been this professional in my fucking life- Sidenote, I should be doing my school work but I can’t even bother

P.S. If there are any mistakes or something I apologize, I sort of edited this like a month ago but never proofread cause I’m a lazy bastard

Words: 3,207

Warnings: The most glorious fight scene of the whole book

Series’ Masterlist

Previous Chapter // Next Chapter

Chapter Five: Gilderoy Lockhart.

She noticed Harry's condition improving after a week.

He gained weight and slept better because of it, Mrs. Weasley would fix his items of clothing that were a bit too big or sort of messed up and would give them back on his size and no longer ripped.

She could tell he wasn't used to positive attention, let alone coming from two adults that actually cared about him. Emily and Mel were more than happy to have welcomed such a lovely family into their lives.

A week after Harry's arrival they received their Hogwarts' letters listing the new books for their term:

'SECOND-YEAR STUDENTS WILL REQUIRE:

The Standard Book of Spells, Grade 2 by Miranda Goshawk

Break with a Banshee by Gilderoy Lockhart

Gadding with Ghouls by Gilderoy Lockhart

Holidays with Hags by Gilderoy Lockhart

Travels with Trolls by Gilderoy Lockhart

Voyages with Vampires by Gilderoy Lockhart

Wanderings with Werewolves by Gilderoy Lockhart

Year with the Yeti by Gilderoy Lockhart'

"You've been told to get all Lockhart's books, too!" Fred said, looking at Harry's letter, "The new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher must be a fan - bet it's a witch."

"That lot won't come cheap," said George, with a quick look at his parents, "Lockhart's books are really expensive..."

"Well, we'll manage," said Mrs. Weasley, "I expect we'll be able to pick up a lot of Ginny's things secondhand."

Mel and Emily shared a look, maybe if the vault belonged to them fully they would be able to lend them the money they needed, but that vault belonged to the Dumbledore family. Technically, it didn't belong to her at all, she was a child.

"Oh, are you starting at Hogwarts this year?" Harry asked Ginny, he knew the answer, but he was trying to be kind.

Mel saw the little girl get completely red at Harry's question and looked away, stifling her laughter with food.

"Morning, all," said Percy, "Lovely day."

He was about to sit down when he squealed, holding what it seemed a grey, old bird.

"Errol!" said Ron, taking the limp owl from Percy, "Finally - he's got Hermione's answer. I wrote to her saying we were going to try and rescue you from the Dursleys."

He took the poor owl and laid it back next to his perch.

'Dear Ron, Mel, and Harry if you're there,

I hope everything went all right and that Harry is okay and that you didn't do anything illegal to get him out, Ron, because that would get Harry into trouble, too. I've been really worried and if Harry is all right, will you please let me know at once, but perhaps it would be better if you used a different owl because I think another delivery might finish your one off. I'm very busy with schoolwork, of course-'

"How can she be?" said Ron in horror. "We're on vacation!"

"Shh! Let me finish!"

'-and we're going to London next Wednesday to buy my new books. Why don't we meet in Diagon Alley? Let me know what's happening as soon as you can.

Love from Hermione.'

"Well, that fits in nicely, we can go and get all your things then, too," said Mrs. Weasley, starting to clear the table. "What're you all up to today?"

They had planned to go back to the hill where they usually played Quidditch, a safe land where the trees covered enough so the muggles couldn't see them.

Off they went, leaving Percy and Ginny -she hid in her room and said she felt ill, but Mel knew it was because she couldn't be in the same place as Harry long periods of time- and Harry asked why Percy was acting so oddly.

"Wish I knew what he was up to," said Fred, frowning. "He's not himself. His exam results came the day before you did; twelve O.WL.s and he hardly gloated at all."

"Ordinary Wizarding Levels," George explained, seeing their puzzled looks. "Bill got twelve, too. If we're not careful, we'll have another Head Boy in the family. I don't think I could stand the shame."

"There's no shame on wanting to be better," Mel scowled him, "there's no need to make others feel bad just because you don't share the same dreams"

"Lady, I'm sorry but if your biggest dream is to have a nice looking grade then you should try to keep looking, cause that's not it"

"Floo what? "

"Powder," Emily took a pinch and showed it to her, "it's faster this way, here," she put it on her daughter's hand, "it's alright, just threw it into the fire and say exactly to where are you heading."

"Watch us first," Fred said, and he took a pinch himself and threw it.

He walked into the green emerald fire and said in a loud voice, "Diagon Alley!"

He vanished.

Mel walked in next, not wanting to stand there and wait for anxiety to grow. She threw the powder and stepped in, the memory of the time she walked through flames with Harry made her panic a little, but she shook her head, almost yelling:

"Diagon Alley!"

She felt her body being pushed down onto the ground, but the floor was gone and a lot of images passed in front of her eyes making her dizzy, she was unable to move and didn't try to, scared of hurting herself she hoped it would stop on its own.

And it did, after a few seconds of aimlessly falling, she landed sideways on the dusty ground.

"Well done, lady," Fred offered a hand, helping her get on her feet, "How was it for the first time?"

"Why can't wizards just use cars," She whined, trying and failing to get off the dirt from her clothes"

Fred laughed.

"That's just not as fun," He tried to help her clean her sweater, but it was useless.

George appeared right after, swiftly landing and not caring to brush off the dirt from his body.

"Lovely, isn't it?" He grinned, examining the girl's ill expression, "you don't look happy"

Mr. Weasley landed behind his son, brushing the soot from his robes.

"We should get going, the rest will catch up with us"

They nodded and started to walk, Mel and the boys would gravitate towards the funny-looking objects with curiosity, but Mr. Weasley was quick to put them back on track.

"Is not like we can buy them anyway," Fred sighed, "we're just looking"

"Sometimes we can design things based on stuff we find around here," George told her in a low whisper, "it gives us an idea of what things wizards and witches find amusing"

"What for?" She asked with interest.

"We're planning to open our own joke shop someday," Fred said proudly, "one day we'll get the money and we'll make the best items for all kinds of pranks and tricks"

"It sounds fun," Mel agreed, "have you finished one of those inventions already?"

"Not really," George grimaced, "every time mum finds our experiments she throws them away, is not exactly helpful"

As he finished his sentence, Mrs. Weasley, Emily, Ron, and Ginny, ran up to them.

"Harry!" Mrs. Weasley cried, "We can't find him!"

"What!?" Mel rushed up to her mum, "What happened!?"

"He messed up the words," Ron lamented, "not his fault really, but now we don't know where he is"

"He can't be too far," Her mother tried to calm them down, "Harry's a smart boy, and he didn't completely mess up the words, just a little... must be around here"

They split into two groups, Mel going with her mother, Ginny, and Mrs. Weasley.

"I don't understand why everything always happens to him," Mel whispered to Ginny.

"I just hope he's okay," Her friend pouted, "poor Harry..."

"This is exactly why I think some traditions are just crazy, look how dangerous this is! What if he appears inside a muggle's chimney?"

"Can't happen," Ginny shook her head, "only magical places have floo line, no muggle houses are connected"

It took them almost half an hour to find the boy. He was in front of Gringotts, Hagrid and Hermione were also with him, though she didn't know how they had found each other.

"Oh, Harry - oh, my dear - you could have been anywhere-"

Gasping for breath Mrs. Weasley pulled a large clothes brush out of her bag and began sweeping off the soot Hagrid hadn't managed to beat away. Mrs. Weasley took Harry's glasses, gave them a tap of her wand, and returned them, good as new.

"Well, gotta be off," said Hagrid, who was having his hand wrung by Mrs. Weasley, "See yer at Hogwarts!"

"See you Hagrid!" Harry walked up to her and stare. "What?"

"You're not going to scowl me about this?"

"I'm not your mum," She crossed her arms, taking full offense, "I was worried but it wasn't your fault"

"Harry!" Emily walked up to him and hugged him tightly, "I'm so relieved! You have to be more careful, Harry!"

"You see, I don't have to scowl you when my mum can do it herself," She smirked.

"Hi Mel!" Hermione walked up to her and gave her a hug, "It's so good to see you!"

"Hi!" She replied.

"Guess who I saw in Borgin and Burkes?" Harry asked his friends as they climbed the Gringotts steps. "Malfoy and his father."

"Did Lucius Malfoy buy anything?" asked Mr. Weasley.

"No, he was selling-'

"So he's worried," said Mr. Weasley, "Oh, I'd love to get Lucius Malfoy for something..."

"You be careful, Arthur," said Mrs. Weasley "That family's trouble. Don't go biting off more than you can chew-"

"So you don't think I'm a match for Lucius Malfoy?" said Mr. Weasley.

But his anger soon went away as they met Hermione's parents at the main entrance.

"Nice to meet you," Mel noted the resemblance between Hermione and her mother, she wondered if she looked like that standing next to her own mother.

"But you're Muggles!" said Mr. Weasley, "We must have a drink! What's that you've got there? Oh, you're changing Muggle money. Molly, look!"

"Meet you back here," Ron said to Hermione as the Weasleys, Emily, Mel and Harry were led off to their underground vaults by another Gringotts goblin.

When the groups split, Emily discretely told Mel that she'd be going with Mrs. Weasley to buy Ginny's stuff and she wouldn't stop nagging until she accepted their help.

"Molly's been so nice to us, it's the least we can do"

"But, Dumbledore's vault-"

"This is from my own vault," When she saw her daughter's expression she added, "I have some savings there, enough in case Dumbledore's wasn't enough for your things. I didn't know they were so... rich"

"Okay," Mel nodded, "I'll see you in a while"

Harry bought four large strawberry-and-peanut-butter ice creams for them, they walked through Diagon Alley, examining the shop windows until Hermione dragged them to buy their equipment.

Inside a Wizarding Joke Shop, they saw Fred, George, and Lee Jordan buying Dr. Filibuster's Fabulous Wet-Start, No-Heat Fireworks. Percy was inside a shop of used, broken things that looked more like junk, reading a book called 'Prefects Who Gained Power.'

"A study of Hogwarts prefects and their later careers," Ron read aloud off the back cover. "That sounds fascinating..."

"Don't start," Mel warned him.

"Go away," Percy snapped.

"'Course, he's very ambitious, Percy, he's got it all planned out... He wants to be Minister of Magic..." Ron told them as they left.

"He's got a lot of work ahead of him," Mel raised a brow, "no wonder he stays all day inside his room"

They headed to Flourish and Blotts. As they approached, they saw a huge group of people trying to get in. A large banner above them:

'GILDEROY LOCKHART will be signing copies of his autobiography MAGICAL ME today 12:30 P.m. to 4:30 P.m.'

"We can actually meet him!" Hermione squealed. "I mean, he's written almost the whole booklist!"

The crowd was mostly witches, a poor worker stood at the entrance saying, "Calmly, please, ladies... Don't push, there... mind the books, now..."

Harry, Mel, Ron, and Hermione squeezed inside. They each grabbed a copy of The Standard Book of Spells, Grade 2 and sneaked up the line to where the rest of the Weasleys and Emily were standing with Mr. and Mrs. Granger.

"Oh, there you are, good," said Mrs. Weasley, "We'll be able to see him in a minute..."

Mel grabbed her mother's hand to get her attention, Emily looked down to her daughter.

"You helped?" She asked in a whisper.

"As much as she let me," Emily frowned, "not even close to enough, she would only let me help with fewer things, potion ingredients and the floo powder because I insisted that we had used it too"

"That's something," Mel sighed, "wish we could do more..."

"We'll be right here if they need more help," Emily stroked the girl's hair softly, "don't lose sleep on it, love..."

Gilderoy Lockhart came into view, he was all too flashy for Mel's liking. He enjoyed too much all the attention, no one with common sense would enjoy his own face that badly.

"Out of the way, there," A photographer snarled at Ron, "This is for the Daily Prophet-"

"Big deal," said Ron, rubbing his foot since the man had carelessly stepped on it.

"Watch where you're going, don't be an animal," Mel said loudly, her mother clasped a hand on her shoulder and murmured in a horrified whisper 'Mel!'

Gilderoy Lockhart looked up. He saw Ron and then he saw Harry.

Then he stood up and shouted, "It can't be Harry Potter?"

The man sprinted towards them and snatched Harry away from the group, dragging him right up the front of the place. Mel watched in horror as the photographer took pictures of Harry, face red, hand trapped in Gilderoy's, who was whispering something to the boy.

"We have to get him out of there," She whispered to Ron.

"How exactly?" Ron said, just as shocked as her.

"Ladies and gentlemen," Gilderoy spoke up, now wrapping an arm around Harry's shoulders, "What an extraordinary moment this is! The perfect moment for me to make a little announcement I've been sitting on for some time! When young Harry here stepped into Flourish and Blotts today, he only wanted to buy my autobiography -which I shall be happy to present him now, free of charge-"

"How generous..." She grumbled.

"-He had no idea that he would shortly be getting much, much more than my book, Magical Me. He and his schoolmates will, in fact, be getting the real magical me. Yes, ladies and gentlemen, I have great pleasure and pride in announcing that this September, I will be taking up the post of Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry!"

"Oh... great," Mel gulped, "why?"

"I'm not sure your uncle thought that through," Her mother said lowly, "but I trust you'll have interesting classes at least"

Mel nodded, she walked over to where Harry was heading now that he was free and planned to apologize for causing the whole situation. He stopped in front of Ginny, giving her the books.

"You have these," Harry mumbled, tipping the books into the girl's cauldron. "I'll buy my own-"

He was so considerate, all the time! ...There it was again, the nagging feeling in the pit of her stomach.

"Bet you loved that, didn't you, Potter?" Mel turned around, finding Draco standing a few feet away. "Famous Harry Potter, can't even go into a bookshop without making the front page."

"Leave him alone, he didn't want all that!" said Ginny.

She was giving Malfoy a deathly stare. Mel was surprised, she had never seen her spoke like that in front of Harry.

"Potter, you've got yourself a girlfriend!" Malfoy laughed.

Poor Ginny lost her courage, Ron and Hermione soon joined in.

"Oh, it's you," said Ron in disgust, "Bet you're surprised to see Harry here, eh?"

"Not as surprised as I am to see you in a shop, Weasley," retorted Malfoy. "I suppose your parents will go hungry for a month to pay for all those."

Ron dropped the books inside Ginny's cauldron and move towards him, Harry and Hermione stopped him before he could touch the kid.

"Sod off, Malfoy," Mel pushed Ron away, "we don't have the time for you"

"Ron!" said Mr. Weasley, who had seen the scene from a few spaces away, he had Fred and George with him. "What are you doing? It's too crowded in here, let's go outside."

"Well, well, well - Arthur Weasley."

That had to be Malfoy's father, he stood with the same air of superiority and was just as dislikeable from bare sight as his son.

"Lucius," said Mr. Weasley.

"Busy time at the Ministry, I hear," said Mr. Malfoy. "All those raids ... I hope they're paying you overtime?"

He reached into Ginny's cauldron and extracted a very old, very battered copy of A Beginner's Guide to Transfiguration.

"Obviously not," Mr. Malfoy said. "Dear me, what's the use of being a disgrace to the name of wizard if they don't even pay you well for it?"

Mr. Weasley went scarlet red.

"We have a very different idea of what disgraces the name of wizard, Malfoy," he said.

"Clearly," said Mr. Malfoy, "The company you keep, Weasley... and I thought your family could sink no lower"

Mr. Weasley had thrown himself at Mr. Malfoy, knocking him backward into a bookshelf.

"Get him, Dad!" Yelled the twins.

Mel covered her mouth in surprise, unable to move.

Mrs. Weasley yelled, "No, Arthur, no!"

"Gentlemen, please - please!" The worker begged, "Break it up, there, gents, break it up -"

"Enough!" Emily pulled out her wand and made a swift movement, both men being pushed away from each other.

Hagrid then appeared, walking over to them and pulling them to their feet, keeping them apart. Mr. Weasley had a cut lip and Mr. Malfoy had a black eye. He gave the book back to Ginny aggressively.

"Here, girl -take your book- it's the best your father can give you-" Pulling himself out of Hagrid's grip and leaving the shop with his son.

"Yeh should've ignored him, Arthur," said Hagrid, almost lifting Mr. Weasley off his feet as he straightened his robes. "Rotten ter the core, the whole family, everyone knows that - no Malfoy's worth listenin' ter - bad blood, that's what it is - come on now - let's get outta here."

Mel found her mother's eyes and they had the same worried-amused expression. Emily turned to the Grangers.

"All right?"

"I think you should ask that to Arthur," Said Mr Granger politely, looking pale as paper.

"A fine example to set for your children... brawling in public... what Gilderoy Lockhart must've thought-" Mrs Weasley scowled.

"He was pleased," said Fred. "Didn't you hear him as we were leaving? He was asking that bloke from the Daily Prophet if he'd be able to work the fight into his report- said it was all publicity-"

"A brilliant professor, don't you think?" Harry asked her, a mocking smile on his face.

Next Chapter —>

Taglist.

@tiphareth2018 @vampiregirl1797 @siriuslysirius1107 @celestialhayi @omiwashere @mikariell95 @thesuitelifeofafangirl

#twoidiots writing #Harry Potter #harry potter fanfiction #harry potter xoc #harry potter x y/n #harry potter x reader #ron weasley #hermione granger #fred weasley #george weasley #ginny weasley #arthur weasley #molly weasley #rubeus hagrid #lucius malfoy #draco malfoy #WITT fic

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critical-ramblings · 5 years ago

Text

Things that Mean More

On a second watch through of Critical Role campaign 2. (Ep 11-15)

“Maybe [Yasha] was a ghost the whole time, maybe the lightning exploded her, maybe she wandered out into the rain and lost her memory”...one of these is not like the others!

Molly: What should we do while keeping watch? Jester: We could find a candy store Molly: Wait there are stores specifically for selling candy?” sometimes Molly makes me sad

“Nott and Molly, you ready to go?” For some reason I expected him to say Caduceus and now I’m sad.

Matt is going really hard on the class differences between the Outersteads and the Tri-spire.

The three towers of the Tri-spire are the Zauberspire, the Constellation Bridge, and the Triumph Chime, which we don’t know much about because Beau rolled a 6 on her history check

Matt cracks himself up describing Chastity’s Nook. His face is SO RED. Liam: “I made you plan for this!”

Tusk Love makes an appearance! Who knew Matt’s smut shop prep would become a recurring theme this campaign

Beau, to Caleb: the Cerberus Assembly, you know much about them?

It’s so interesting to hear them talk about the state of the Empire and the Cerberus Assembly, because they’re just so...powerless.

I think Beau straight up says, “I don’t know, look at this. Look at how much money is up here compared to elsewhere. This is a lot of control.”

Caleb immediately asks, “so what do you plan to do about it?” after which Beau deflects to drinking booze and making money. Look how far they’ve come. :)

Caleb buys Jester bear claws and then Jester buys him the Courting of the Crick. Their love language has always been gifts

I remember not being a Huge fan of the political arc in Zadash, it’s pretty slow and doesn’t have a super conclusive end, even though they ‘succeed’

first explanation of the crick slur! this is also the first real experience we have with the Kryn Dynasty, and I remember wanting to know more about them! Xhorhas is like a black hole of knowledge, it’s just on the other side of the mountains and we know NOTHING

Doolan Tversky! What the FUCK Nott? WHAT DOES IT MEAN???

Dolan and Horace are...very relatable in today’s political situation

We talk about how bad it was for Molly to charm Nott, but she started it by stealing from Fjord. That doesn’t make it okay, but it does add some context. As far as PVP goes, she was the instigator

“I need him to be powerful. So he can save me.” the ‘using him’ undertones of the conversation are SO GOOD

Fjord is also asking all the right questions, but Nott is excellent at dancing around them. Even charmed, she doesn’t trust them enough to tell them.

“I did my own dental work” oh boooooooy i missed that one

the description of fictional Xhorhas is very :/

Fjord attempts to Manage Nott..it does not work...he asks Caleb to do it. Nott tells him she’s not an idiot. I think this is the first time she really pushes back against the infantilization

If you want your players to know someone is evil, have them advocate killing puppies and call tieflings ‘demonbloods’

proficient in mail fraud

man the Mighty Nein (and mostly Caleb) really Improved the Knights of Requital plan. We go from ~somehow~ tying Sutan to the Myriad and the High Richtor to framing the two of them for murder (of the Lawmaster)

intro of the meta-gaming pigeon! originally a signal in-game for investigating Dolan

Ren Sutan is the one they were investigating at the hospital, his father Deitrich Sutan is the one they frame in the Heist

The Hospital Scene....the last brain cell in the Nein went with Beau and Jester

the grin that Taliesin has when he says “I’ve got a plan” is Terrifying

after Molly’s done with his Disguise, Fjord says ‘do I dare ask how it looks,’ Molly says, ‘well, i can show you?’ and it’s CALEB who says “yes show us the goods”

“we are working together. we are TRYING to work together. Getting all of us out is more important than finding this asshole” Caleb, being a Team Player. This is 1 episode before scrollgate

Caleb tells Jester to keep her writing plain “not as charming as you normally speak”

hes so softe already

Nott and Caleb have a talk about learning Identify, how Nott supports Caleb, believes in him, which visibly makes Caleb uncomfortable. Nott is clearly fishing for ways to make Caleb more powerful without revealing why

The robberies/evidence planting actually goes off without (too much of) a hitch. Not much to say, until we get to the Scrolls

Fjord is classic dumbass, he escalates the situation (brings out the falchion) and then even if he agrees with Caleb (they’d already destroyed the rug in Sutan’s place) he can’t back down

Then Ulog’s sacrifice--absolutely the most interesting part of this arc, to me. He’s not just a thief, he’s a real revolutionary.

he also knocks Caleb out in one hit, which is Nice

The assassins strike the Zauberspire!!!!! Earlier this episode Sam says “We think Matt’s managing three plot lines, but there’s actually a fourth we don’t even know about” and he is Absolutely Right

god I want to write a fic about those two. It seems like the classic echo knight/wizard support combo, i want to know about these two special forces drow sent to retrieve the Beacon, the holy symbol of their people. Blessed by the Bright Queen herself. And they come so close. (if it weren’t for those meddling kids!)

Matt pulls this Advanced DM trick, where you have the party fight an enemy that would be completely annihilating them--if it wasn’t already injured.

The first impressions of the Beacon, from what they manage to glean from this Charmed assassin, are so interesting. Jester’s eternal mis-interpretation about babies (which isn’t...really wrong?)

The drow twitched when Ulog’s name was mentioned! Though the Gentleman’s association did not deal with the Krynn, Ulog knows some shady people. If he wasn’t a spy himself.

They don’t even take the Beacon! (But the time they took futzing about with the assassin was what allowed him to be captured and killed)

I just realized that the reason Caleb stays with the Beacon that first night isn’t because he’s afraid it’ll be stolen--it’s because as long as he’s within 5 ft it can’t be scried on!

Okay, Molly and Beau really do team up against Nott in this talking to. Nott Does Not Agree with their reasoning--in the episode before, it was Caleb who put the scrolls back to deescalate the situation. Caleb is the one here who has the aside with the skull about how much he wants to make this group work. It’s Nott who’s on the fence.

“He’s MY boy. I take care of HIM.”

Caleb tries, after the skull interlude, he tries to tell Nott. “You know, I was going to go to that place. The Soltryce Academy...But I fucked it up.” He can’t bring himself to say more than that.

Nott purchases the enchantment for her never-ending flask. 250 gold is nothing, when you’re a goblin who just likes shiny things.

Whenever Caleb has money, he spends it on paper and ink to transcribe spells. Whenever he doesn’t have spells to transcribe, he buys them. :)

Taryon Darrington!!!! I also fell out of my chair when this book came up. Can’t wait for Caleb to read it someday and declare it trash

MOLLY! He bullshits SO well, I (and Cree) bought into the idea that he just really wanted to stay on the DL. That’s really what I take away from this revelation, his intense desire to keep his past under wraps.

Meeting the Gentleman! Fjord won 600 gold with some good gambling, they get a job dungeon crawling, Laura isn’t there to meet her dad.

Yasha backstory! The crumbs we get about Xhorhas are so little, and I remember being a little confused about how big Xhorhas was, the difference between the region and the Krynn Dynasty, how connected everything is over there.

Caleb asks Fjord whether or not he used party funds to gamble. Fjord reassures him, but Caleb says he would be alright with it. “Calculated risks.”

From home Jester strikes with the Wand of Smiles...

This interrogation has so many good one-liners from our good Mollymauk. “That person is dead and not me” “The truth is vicious, it thinks you owe it something” “joy can fill an awful lot of a person’s life”

Caleb’s Joke: (about Pumat) “Well, [he’s] not one of a kind.” Molly: “Did you just make a joke?” Caleb: “No.”

Yasha in Pumat Sol’s shop is the most awkward we ever see her. She stumbles over her words, bails on her attempts at banter, DOES manage to roll a 14 Persuasion for a discount on her healing potions.

Important Caleb & Yasha bonding over buying the throwing stars for Beau

Liam really is the best Jester (besides Laura, of course)

Some really great early Fjord/Jester in the Underworks. “Don’t read into it.” “This is just like that scene in Tusk Love.” I think Fjord did flirt with Jester, but that came from a) heteronormativity and b) Fjord always pushes his luck. His curiosity and playfulness have burned him more than once--I don’t think he considers that he might also be hurting Jester with these interactions.

bonus Caleb: “It is sad when ships sink.”

Highlight of this dungeon crawl is Nott completely failing to rogue. Nott and traps don’t get along...

#cr #critical role #c2 rewatch #started before it was cool you guys

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alsbesluit · 5 years ago

Text

Draco had suggested dating on top of sharing a bed and cuddling before going to sleep, and he was going to stick to it. The next day, slightly hungover, Draco disapparated to Tomes and Scrolls and asked how much it was to rent out their store for a couple of hours someday in the foreseeable future. Money could buy you anything, and since it was September the store didn’t have many customers other than their regulars. Since not many people were keen on doing leisurely shopping these days, they’d have to accept the offer. It’d have to be that Thursday midday, two days from then. Draco spend most of Thursday morning in the kitchen preparing meals for that evening and went to get Hermione from the library (where she thankfully stuck to her own bookcase) to have lunch in Hogsmeade. Perhaps she thought that was the date. It wasn’t. He took her to the bookstore next, smirked at her once she registered it was empty and told her to have at it and buy whatever she wanted, as long as she picked one book to give to him later. He’d do the same for her. He’d made sure that all books related to Dark Arts or spells that could do any harm had been removed from the store. He stayed with her at first, walking with her as she roamed through the store, and discussed together what they saw. Once they went through the store Draco swiped a number of books from the shelves, put them on the counter and opened one as he headed over to the reading corner. He went out at a certain point to get them beverages and snacks. By the time the midday was over, there were quite a few books to be transported alongside with them which they had to undo the spells on later. That was when Hermione probably thought he was done, but he wasn’t. He lead her outside past the main gardens, the one visible from the back of the manor, and past a few of the high hedges to a small field surrounded by trees, a small lake by the side. In the middle he’d put down a picnic blanket and a swish of his wand made all the food he’d prepared in the kitchen earlier appear. He’d tried to pick whatever he saw her eat the most of in the past two weeks, as well as a few guilty pleasure such as small pizza slices and some fries. He took her hand as they walked towards the blanket and made space for her to sit down before he sat in front of her. He poured her a glass of non-alcoholic Firewhiskey and handed it to her. They ate and drunk first, some remarks exchanged over dinner. It wasn’t until they were both full and had their ice-cream for dessert that Draco made everything but the glasses and the bottle vanish and studied her briefly before moving to sit on the middle of the blanket. She could take the invite to sit with him, or not. “I thought about giving you a book about etiquette or the Sacred or whatever, but that’s not fun. I’d give you any of those if you wanted, but not as a surprise. So I picked this instead.” He handed it over to her then, a book-shaped package with wrapping paper in dark red and a golden ribbon. The book was on how wizards were a part of muggle history and how they helped shape muggle events as they came to be known, the slightest hint that he was trying to accept that she was a muggleborn and that perhaps it wasn’t the worst thing in the world. “I am horrible at gift-giving, by the way. It’s a good thing I could never keep a girlfriend or I’d never hear the end of it. Did you ever have to gift anyone you liked or were dating anything?”

#( first date ).#( hermione & draco ).#( arranged marriage | au ).

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kiwiparallels · 7 years ago

Text

Townhouse, part II

[You can read part I here] Harry got back to his house with a head on the clouds. Conflicted between thoughts of sleek blond hair and how attractive it seemed to even on a bloke, he didn’t realize how a trail of changes followed him upstairs to the naked bed. The boxes spilled its contents, just before, tucking themselves in the closet near the front door. Cups and plates moved themselves to the kitchen cupboards, while books flew right to the big wooden bookshelf in the living room. Colored clothes were slowly sorted in the walk-in closet in the main room where he slept. The walls went from an old beige to a clear white color, as the wind sweeped the dust away from the dark hardwood floors. A flame was lit up in the fireplace, right under the old firebolt, that decided that wall was a good place to hang. A beautiful drawing of a Lion, made by Luna a couple months before, attached itself to the wall in the hall, waving its mane with a shake.

When he woke up, blinded by the bright sunshine, his stomach roared in hunger. His golden snitch zoomed over the room, making him very aware of yesterday’s pints and the consequent headache that pulsed on his forehead. He thought of Ellie, and how warming the little bar she ran felt to him. He knew his friends would love the place, but he couldn’t show it to them yet. Moving to muggle London had one objective: being away of the wizarding world enough so he could get on with his life again. A pinch of pain took hold of his heart: did that mean there was no space for Ron and Hermione at this new life? No, of course not. It was just an adjustment time. He could figure things out as he went. His friends were there, no matter how apart they were. Their thursdays dinners would eventually happen again. Just not right now.

He got up, looking around the room. It was like, during the night - or better, the morning, as the sun was so up into the sky that it seemed like it was almost noon -, the place got a new face altogether. It was still empty, no new furniture appeared. But it did seem clean and tidy, as a house was supposed to be. He started down the stairs, watching closely for updates, and right as the possibility of an entering-and-breaking occurred to him, he ran into someone.

“Master Harry” said Kreacher, anxious eyes glittering at him.

“Kreacher! What are you doing here? I thought you were at Hogwarts since I freed you”

“Kreacher was, Master Harry, he lived through the shame!” Harry thought it was better not to complain with that statement. “Kreacher wants to know if Master Harry needs help decorating the new house, sir.”

“I think I’m okay, Kreacher, thank you. Is there something I can do for you?”

“If it’s not too much trouble, Master Harry, Kreacher heard you’re selling Mistress house!”

“Yes, so?”

“Kreacher wanted to… say goodbye, sir.”

“The house is open for you as long as it’s mine, Kreacher.” The bow he received then was exaggerated and deep. With a last ‘thank you’, Kreacher flicked his hand, pointing to the kitchen, and disappeared out of thin air. The air was filled with the smell of fresh pancakes and scrambled eggs. A treat from Hogwarts, he thought. His stomach rumbled again, wondering if there would be some treacle tart. Was that what happened, then? Kreacher decided to buy his sympathy with his organization talents? He went to the kitchen, mouth watering at the beautiful breakfast that awaited him, treacle tart included.

He had never been good at sensing where the magic around him came from. He knew the food was full of house-elf magic, but there was nothing in it telling him that. Hermione would help him with it. She was not just sensible, but her new experience in regards of magical creatures would pay off. He took a mental note to ask her later. Everything was delicious, but the tea was already cold. He got his wand and pointed at his cup, muttering a quick heating charm. As he touched it, the water quickly boiled up and evaporated. He shrugged. It happened occasionally. Maybe he should have been back to Hogwarts, as apparently he couldn’t do children’s magic properly anymore. But he was above it, in his muggle house. It wasn’t a problem anymore.

He got out of the house again that day, thinking about how he needed to fill up the house with furniture. He had never done that before, and he was sure he didn’t want anything like the Black’s furniture. It was old and classic, but also very boring and elegant in a way he would never be. The Dursley’s modern-kitsch home was no better, all colors and patterns that still reminded him of the seventies too much. He wanted a clean space, with less clutter than his head. He needed it. The task quickly got really boring. He pointed at furniture and wrote big cheques, and then pointed at new furniture. It was all exactly what he wanted, but it wouldn’t get to the house for a couple of days, and he couldn’t really put it together in his mind. He hadn’t bought everything yet, only the big pieces he was sure he needed, and - oh, so needed - some shades for his windows, as he was still scarred from his sudden encounter with the sun today. When it started to go down again, he tried to think about dinner.

Cooking in the muggle way seemed like a burden, the memory of the Dursley’s gave him a chill. That he wouldn’t do. But his magic was faltering, and trying one or two of Molly’s charms to cook could even set the house on fire. He would need to eat out again. And forever, apparently. He stopped at a cafe and bought a sandwich, eating slowly as he walked. Maybe buying stuff would be more fun with help. Maybe eating would be more fun with people. Harry wondered why his life always circled down to being alone. Even in his days at Hogwarts, in the end, it was only him and Voldemort. No one was there to actually understand what he was feeling, what he needed, what he wanted. Hell, who knew what he wanted? Just now he only wanted his empty townhouse, and here he kept muttering about its emptiness! He felt frustrated. He looked at himself, mirrored in a window shop, and sighed. Some would say he had everything. He had more money he could count, fame, the bestest friends in the world, he had a fierce girlfriend… Ginny crossed his mind them.

She had made him happy someday. His heart raced to see her, his mouth dried up when he had to talk to her, kissing her was a bliss. But when did it change? He remembered them as a good dynamic couple… when he was sixteen. Had it been so long? Had he been lonely for so long? It did, apparently. They tried, he knew, but it got so tiring. And there was no reward at the end. The happiness he felt by her side had a place before the war, at the Hogwarts he called home. But not here, not at this time. If he could feel any differently he would, but it was so agonizing to explain it to her. To put in words that he thought about not coming back. He knew what he had to do, but he also knew what he wanted was something else altogether. She would treat him like he was crazy, like he had never lost anyone, like he didn’t understand the pain she felt. And she was one of the few who knew what it felt to be in Voldemort’s shoes, to feel like a pawn in a bigger game. He felt used. But she would say everything worked out in the end, so who cared? Once she even said that, maybe, it was better he was used. He shook the thought away. A chilly breeze came through and he wished he had a thicker coat. Although, it served the moment right, he was already feeling cold for a while.

As he walked aimlessly, he tried to not think. That had always been hard. But chewing up on everything that went wrong would not help. He had stated that very clearly in therapy. He was lonely, yes. It was a fact he had to deal with. Maybe, what he needed was a new girlfriend, someone who didn’t have to know about the mess of the war - someone fun and carefree like the muggle people he saw on the street. He thought about Ellie, she was nice. Her dark brown hair was long and wavy, careless knotted up. She seemed like his kind of girl, easy going and talented. A lot like Ginny. But maybe he wasn't that easy going anymore. Or that talented. What did he do? She asked. He had no answer. Being a wizard wasn’t something to do either. He had to come up with something. Soon. Actually, before coming up with a present, he had to come up with a past. She seemed quite sure he looked like a rich kid. Maybe it was the magic energy, maybe it was the fact that he would never worry about money in his life indeed. Apparently the Potters made sure of that.

But that was a good place to start. Private boarding school. In Scotland. Not that far from the truth. What else? Orphan? How could he be an orphan rich kid? His parents died recently, then - it would explain the grief that used to come back from time to time. Car accident? He laughed, imagining Aunt Petunia’s face if she knew he intended to pull her lie onto people again. No other family, all right. He was pretty sure no Dursley would stop to greet him on the street anytime. No clue about what to do with his life - that was actually true. He felt a little bit lighter with this plan. At least he knew what to say when he talked to someone again. He wondered if he should go back to the bar. The idea of beer got his stomach churned up, but maybe he could just hang. Play some darts, maybe.

His image in the window shops caught his attention again. He had old clothes on, he knew the tee under his jacket actually had a hole under his arm. Usually he had no one to dress up to - or he would just throw some robes over everything and call it a day. It was, then, time to shop some more. He went in some stores, remembering how the guy from yesterday’s night was dressed. He could never pull off something like that. He didn’t have the confidence or the body. Of course he had grown up, he had always been tall, and his shoulders were broader, but he still seemed really slim, built for a seeker. The beard was a game changer, though. He tried to keep it short and trimmed, but it did make him seem older. He could work with that, maybe. His hair would do whatever it wanted, so it was a lost case. He did like how a simple tee looked so he went for that. Everything he got was like his house: plain and uncomplicated. He played with all colors, but got simple pieces as jeans, long sleeves and sweaters. His most complicated look was the one he was wearing as he got out of the shop: a grey and black baseball tee and a jeans jacket.

He felt fresh. He went straight into the bar, sitting on Ellie’s counter again. She greeted him with a smile.

“I’m sorry to tell you our kitchen is already closed. A pint, though?”

“Just some p-ginger beer, please.” He stuttered as he realized she probably wouldn’t have fresh pumpkin juice in a muggle bar.

“Oh, I see it was a rough morning indeed.” She went to pick up a bottle, and turned to a tanned brunette girl, very tall and very thin. “Chiara, we have a new local. Meet Harry - it is Harry, right?’

“Yes, it’s good to meet you.” Harry shook her hand. She smiled too. “You run the kitchen here, right? Last night’s pepperoni pizza was incredible.”

“It’s an old family recipe, thanks. What brought you here, Harry?” Chiara said, no accent, even though he wasn’t sure why he was expecting one. He didn’t look the part of an englishman either.

“I bought a house a few blocks away.” She looked a little bit uncertain, and turned to Ellie.

“He’s the private schooled jock, isn’t he?”

“Yeah. He never told me if I was right, though. But you know I’m good.” Two ginger-beers appeared at the counter.

“You are.” Harry said with a smile, laughing as the girls screamed a clearly rehearsed A-ha! to his face.

That night’s conversation was easy, no big personal questions were asked. They told him about the business, Chiara’s family was in England for a few generations now, but decided to return to to Italy when she turned eighteen. Pizza was her way of doing it, and in the middle of it, her school best friend Ellie decided to study bartending so they would open the bar of their dreams. They had met Jack on a party, he went with them to taste one of her pizzas, and decided that taste would make anything a good investment. Harry could only agree, Jack was absolutely right. After a couple hours, feeling the un-stressful ambience relax and soothe him, Harry noticed Ellie looking at one of the girls passing through the crowd with dreamy eyes. Chiara noticed and pointed discreetly.

“That’s Ellie’s biggest bar crush. She comes here every wednesday and saturday for the last eight months, and that face happens every time.”

“She’s pretty, I guess.” He said.

“How come? She’s perfect! She’s a lawyer, always celebrating her big wins with us. Oh, if I had someone a could sue… You guess, hah! Do you even like girls? How can you say that?”

“O-of course I like girls.” Harry was thrown off by the comment. He did like girls, he liked Gin. Not for a long time. And he did like Cho, back then. But not kissing her, at all. He shrugged. He didn’t like boys any better. Except for the blond guy yesterday.

“Do you, really?” Chiara laughed. “It’s okay, Harry, you don’t need to label yourself for us. Ellie here is just messing with you.”

“You don’t need to, but unfortunately Chiara is super straight. I’ve never even had a shot.” She mock frowned. Harry smirked, and looked around. People around here really didn’t seem to label themselves. He saw how the interactions were really free and smooth, between everyone, far from some muggle places where he had been before, in which straight couples were the only ones to be seen. It hadn’t caught his eyes, usually that was how things worked in the wizarding world too. He never thought of worrying about it. It was buried in a distant past in which he dodged bullies and had to hear Dudley’s opinions about everything. A past that ended soon after Hagrid went into that hut.

“OI! Harry!” Ellie snapped her fingers in front of his face. “Did you hear me?”

“No, sorry, I was lost in thought.”

“I said I saw you ogling the cute blond boy yesterday! Is that what you are into? Long hair and leather jackets?” He was startled.

“Was it that obvious?” She nodded with a knowing smirk. “He seemed like someone I knew, actually. But, yeah, he was fit.”

“Oh, he’s a regular. Maybe you’ll have a better luck than I did. But all I know is he’s pretty busy, he works a lot, I guess. What did he do, Chi? The one that always order the prosciutto pizza…”

“Hm, I think he’s a journalist of sorts. Music press, I guess?”

“Oh, yeah, the Nirvana t-shirt guy that actually looks a little like Kurt! And he usually drinks whisky.” Ellie added, counting the information pieces in her fingers.

“What’s Nirvana?” Harry asked, making both girls giggle loudly.

[to be continued: part III, part IV]

#townhouse #drarry #drabble #drarry fic #drarry ficlet #fic #fanfiction #harry potter fic #ficlet #Harry Potter #part ii #post war #it's over 5k words already #draco didn't even appear #slow burn #for sure

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coderealizeheadcanons · 7 years ago

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Hogwarts AU?

Mod S here! I already sorted them into their houses in a previous headcanon, and why they are there, so I’ll just do another brief AU talking about their daily lives.

So this’ll be Code: Realize Hogwarts AU. This got really, really long so I’m putting this under a cut as well. If you have other HP headcanons for the characters, that’s awesome! These are just mine, and I hope you enjoy!

–As a refresher, here are the houses for the Lupin Gang: Lupin is Gryffindor, Van is Slytherin, Saint G is Ravenclaw and Impey, Victor and Cardia are Hufflepuff. I decided to add Sholmes into this and have sorted him into Ravenclaw as well. I think that Lupin and Impey would be muggle born, while Cardia, Victor, Van and Saint Germain were all born into Wizard families. They all meet and hang out their first year and become inseparable despite their differences in houses. Lupin also is very much interested in Cardia, so he goes out of his way to try and impress and flirt with her.

--Obviously, Victor would be really into alchemy and potions class. He wouldn’t like all the experiments on animals though because he is so compassionate. He would enjoy playing wizard chess but again doesn’t enjoy the violent aspect of it. He spends a lot of time in the library and has to fight the urges not to explore the restricted section because of the potential knowledge he has. Victor really enjoys talking to the house ghosts and making friends with the paintings in the hallways. Everyone always asks why he’s not in Ravenclaw, but seeing Victor sacrifice his time for his friends always makes those comments stop.

--Van wants to be an auror and enjoys defense against the dark arts and the study of magic creatures. He’s not from an incredibly prestigious family of wizards, so his first year he really gets tormented by the other Slytherins. But then Van gets into a fight with one of them and kicks his ass; suffice it to say, the teasing stops. He’s not an incredibly stellar student, but he does well in the subjects he likes. He doesn’t really like using a wand and hopes one day to be able to use his magic wand-less. He would really enjoy spending time with Hagrid; his favorite magical creatures would probably be dragons.

--Impey, being muggle born, would be really shell-shocked about the magical world at first. It would take him some getting used to because he likes to build things with his hands and not magic. He wouldn’t really be into the school subjects, but he’d like them a lot better than normal school. His favorite class his first year would be flying, and he would start saving up every penny he had to buy a broom. Impey would then get into Quidditch, and his lanky body would help him become a great keeper. He’d also really like the astronomy class (for obvious reasons). Sisi ends up being Impey’s pet companion despite the fact he enjoys spending time with Cardia more.

--Lupin has always loved the idea of magic, so he’s thrilled when, as a muggle born, he gets his Hogwarts letter. Lupin is already good at sleight-of-hand tricks, so when he does some amazing things without magic, even the wizard-born children are impressed. Lupin’s very popular with the ladies because of this. Like Hermione, Lupin wants to learn everything about the magical world and studies it, but more so, he just loves the day-to-day life with his friends. He also wants to be an auror too, but he wants to be more of an undercover agent because his real dream is to be a phantom thief. Lupin becomes really proficient at charms and light curses since the some of the kids tease him for being muggle born.

--Saint Germain also enjoys studying everything there is that Hogwarts has to offer, and he is an excellent wizard from the beginning. He would like to work for the Ministry of Magic, so his favorite subjects are magical history and defense against the dark arts, but he also enjoys divination, transfiguration and learning about muggles, particularly muggle art. He always asks Lupin and Impey what they know about certain muggle items and muggle artwork. If anyone tries to tease Saint Germain, he shuts them up quick with how good he is with a wand. Saint Germain loves his wand and always keeps it where he can get it easily. He’s also great at transfiguring into different animals to scare people.

--Sholmes is also an excellent student, and Lupin considers him his greatest rival. Sholmes also wants to be an auror, but more of a detective than anything else, so the investigation department. Naturally, when he hears Lupin talking about being a phantom thief, he always quips back that that makes him a dark wizard and that he will catch Lupin someday, but Lupin just shrugs him off. Sholmes is really interested in defense against the dark arts, magical history and herbology. But really, he strives for top marks in everything. Sholmes is much more private than the other students, and Cardia has to get him to come and sit with them during study time and such. Sholmes teases Lupin, but he never teases Lupin for being muggle born, so there’s some respect there.

--Cardia’s father is a prestigious wizard, so many of the students recognize her. She’s quite afraid that she’ll be held to a high standard, so she does her best to succeed in school. She enjoys all the subjects, but she tries to find one subject she can share with all her friends: potions with Victor, DATDA with Van, Astronomy with Impey, Muggle Studies with Saint Germain, Charms with Lupin and Magical History with Sholmes. Cardia loves watching Quidditch games and always cheers on Impey while he plays. Cardia’s not sure what she really wants to do (should she find a new path or follow in her father’s footsteps studying alchemy), so it’ll depend on who she decides to follow the most. Cardia enjoys the day-to-day life at school and spending time with her friends more than anything else.

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