#pensieve

[basiatlu]

Day 10: Memory

Harry was well aware the futility of dwelling on memories.

[lulublack90]

Prompt 23 - Penseive

@wolfstarmicrofic September 23, word count 421

Previous part First Wolfstar part

Together, Sirius and Remus read the letter from Orion. It didn’t contain much, just an apology for not being able to find a suitable answer.

‘Aside from kidnapping a death eater and getting them to call him, I don’t know how to get him away from the others.’ 

Orion wrote. 

“So basically yours and Regulus's plan then?” Sirius snorted as they read on. 

At the bottom of the letter, scribbled quickly, was a note. 

‘Sirius, it’s not safe to come here any more, your mother is suspicious. I think she saw the floo flames. Don't come unless I say it is safe. Stay safe, my son. I love you. Orion.’ 

“Well, that’s not good,” Sirius said worriedly as he read through the note again. 

“Hopefully, once we get rid of Voldemort, it’ll be safer to meet up, if that’s what you want,” Remus added, not wanting to force Sirius into anything. Sirius leaned against Remus’s shoulder and sighed deeply. 

“I think it is. Once everything’s done, I can take Reggie to see him. If he wants to,” Sirius laughed once before sobering again. “We need to think about how we’ll capture all the death eaters as well if we manage to get Voldemort,” Remus thought for a moment. 

“Didn’t the Potters have a pensieve? Could we maybe check Peter’s memories? See if he’s been to any of the meetings,” Remus asked. Sirius was a Legilimens, and could check himself, but he hated using it. His mother had used it on him his entire life, up until he escaped that house and her. She’d pick apart every detail of his life, wrenching open the vaults he tried to hide memories and thoughts he knew she wouldn’t like in. The only thing he’d ever managed to hide from her was Remus. Those thoughts and feelings he had hidden in a little black box in a dark corner of his mind with a big flashy box in front of it. She missed it every time. “Shhhh, love, I know,” Remus was stroking his hands up and down Sirius’s arms, knowing where his thoughts had gone, and Sirius realised he was shaking. He buried his nose in Remus’s neck and breathed in his comforting scent until he’d calmed down. 

“I’ll do it,” He said,"I'll go into his mind and find what we need, it'll be easier than using the penseive and then we can only take the memories we need for the courts." And that was that He'd decideded and that's what they'd do.  

Next part

[klinefelterrible]

Draco: I know that you guys are in an arranged marriage, but you seem to be so well connected…!

Narcissa: honey, do you remember when your father and I showed you that Pensieve memory of our wedding?

Draco: yes

Draco: I loved every second of it

Narcissa: well what you need to know is that this memory is a little bit… redacted

Lucius: just a little bit!

Narcissa: but redacted indeed

Draco: exactly which parts were redacted?

Narcissa: well so you remember how we told you that your father looked rather stiff and we laughed that he danced a bit clumsy?

Draco: …yes

Lucius: it was because I was fucked so hard that night and in the morning I was barely able to walk. And my ass was a gaping—

Narcissa: oh, Lucius

Lucius: but it was

Draco: but… but you looked so happy!

Narcissa: he was happy! He just survived an orgy with so many people where all of them came inside his sweet white ass

Draco: …and you knew about that?

Narcissa: about that… do you remember how I smiled everywhere but I never really did talk? Like at all?

Draco: …yes?

Lucius: it was because she sucked so many dicks that night her mouth, tongue and throat was literally as sore as my ass!

Narcissa: my lips were so red that day

Lucius: and you danced with such grace

Narcissa: thank you, honey

Narcissa: after we made Creacher bring you that ointment, so did you

Lucius: anyway, son, we were very good friends prior to this ceremony

Narcissa: and we still are

Draco: so is all my life a lie?

Narcissa: no

Lucius: but your uncle Augustus is not really your uncle and his young girlfriend Lucy—

Draco: please don’t tell me that I have a younger sister who is also a slut

*doors knocking*

Narcissa: this must be Harry

Lucius: come in, boy!

Harry: *enters* hello, Mr and Mrs Malfoy, hello Draco

Harry: what’s the matter?

Draco: oh, nothing

Draco: just that little thing that they’ve been lying to me my whole life

Harry: what did you tell him

Narcissa: we told him the specifics about our wedding day

Harry: oh cool

Harry: did you tell him who won?

Draco: who won what?

Harry: a contest?

Narcissa: what contest?

Lucius: let’s, uhm-

Draco: what contest?

Harry: you didn’t tell him about the contest?

Narcissa: what contest?

Draco: yeah, what contest, Potter?

Lucius: remember that bet we made that night?

Narcissa: no

Lucius: oh, good

Draco: what bet?

Harry: your parents made a bet that whoever wins the contest of making cum more dicks than the other, names the child

Draco: no!

Lucius: uhm-

Narcissa: oh, that

Narcissa: now I remember

Narcissa: I don’t remember who won, though

Harry: do you want to know?

Lucius: uhm

Narcissa: excuse me, but how do you know?

Lucius: uhm…

Harry: I requested that information during death eaters hearings

Harry: I promised many of them a lighter sentences for the unchanged, unaltered versions.

Narcissa: oh this is so hot

Lucius: can we see it?

Harry: it’s in the evidence room in the dungeons of the ministry of magic

Lucius: oh

Narcissa: I see that you didn’t say „no”

Lucius: oooh

Lucius: can we?

Draco: I can’t believe my ears and my eyes and my life right now

Narcissa: oh please, like you never did anything dumb and hot

Lucius: maybe he didn’t

Narcissa: don’t be ridiculous

Narcissa: do you know that we were notified every time you and Harry had a little rendez-vous at school?

Narcissa: *makes a blowjob pantomine*

Narcissa: every. time.

Lucius: uhm

Narcissa: Every

Narcissa: Time

Narcissa: with the cute details, especially when you guys were in fifth year and later, when you started ass—

Draco: OKAYOKAOKAY!!!

Draco: sheesh, okay, I am leaving only to go to my room and die of embarrassment and maybe I will obliviate myself a little with a bottle of my father’s finest gin

Harry: I’ll go with you

Draco: whatever

Narcissa: wait a second, Harry

Harry: I can provide you some time for both of you to visit the ministry and officially acknowledge some details of your and your son’s involvement in the death eaters processes.

Harry: *wink* I will need a blood oath from you that you won’t mess with this and only then you can stay there for… *wink wink* eight hours once a week.

Narcissa: oh yeah

Lucius: awww

Lucius: like a second honeymoon

Harry: now about those notifications…

Narcissa: there were no notifications

Harry: but you said—

Narcissa: I am full of shit

Lucius: she is so full of shit

Harry: why would you say that

Narcissa: I just wanted to see your faces

Narcissa: and he believed it, didn’t he

Harry: such a cunning woman

Lucius: one of the best

Narcissa: I am not half as good as Andromeda

Harry: why Andromeda?

Narcissa: she made Rodolphus Lestrange marry our sister Bella just by telling him she is into being forced to eat ass and what comes out of the ass

Harry: she did wh—

Harry: what

Harry: why

Narcissa: Andromeda made Bellatrix eat her poop

Narcissa: for the sheer joy of it

Harry: ah! You got me, right? You’re full of shit, right?

Lucius: I wish

Narcissa: No I am not.

Narcissa: and every time Bellatrix had a death eaters meeting, Andromeda made her eat her shit before she went there

Narcissa: first she was full of shit, then Bellatrix’s mouth was full of shit and then

Lucius: let’s drop it, please

Harry: what the fuck

Narcissa: are we even now

Harry: what the actual fuck

Harry: the fuck

Harry: fucking fuck

Lucius: he handles it well

Narcissa: so do we have a deal, Harry?

Harry: what the fuck

Harry: we do

Harry: but how and what and why the fuck

Narcissa: ah, youth

Lucius: *hugs her* remember us back then?

Narcissa: oh yeah

Harry: I need time to process this

Narcissa: Harry, wait!

Harry: yes?

Narcissa: who won?

Harry: the bet?

Harry: Lucius

Narcissa: no way!

Harry: by one limp dick almost at midnight

Harry: and both of you would chose Draco anyway

Narcissa: awww

Lucius: that’s love

Narcissa: for a cock?

Lucius: that too

Narcissa: I’m kidding. I love you, husband

Lucius: and I love you, wife

Harry: you guys are cute

Harry: *leaving*

Harry: but what the fuck

[ephemerasnape]

Hogtober, Day 23 - Pensieve

Video by @hellsehend!

[speedysart]

Day 23 Pensieve

A little Dusk and Dawn lore in undercut :3

Most of the wounds were already closing up, as Damian stepped forward to the pensieve. His hand trembled as he opened the bottle filled with what once memories of his, yet he wasnt sure if its just his body still feeling the effect of Crucio or he was scared... Scared of what he will see, what lies of his father he will uncover.

[theladyofshalott1989]

Hogtober, Day 23: Pensieve

✨Isidora Morganach✨

Sebastian's gaze focused on the image of a young woman anxiously entering through a doorway, her hands tightly clasped in front of her. In an instant, his perspective jolted, transporting him to a view over her shoulder. From this new vantage point, he could observe an older man seated on the edge of a bed, his hands resting in his lap while his gaze remained fixed upon the floor.

Who were these people? Whose memories were they experiencing? Could the woman be Isidora Morganach?

Sebastian found himself once again on the distant side of the wall, the perspective having shifted back. These rapid changes in viewpoint left him feeling profoundly disoriented.

The woman moved closer and took a seat beside the man on the bed. With a gentle touch, she rested her hand on his thigh and spoke in a hushed tone, "I cannot bring my brother back, Father. But I can give you peace."

They locked eyes; the young woman's gaze was filled with intense emotion. However, the man remained silent, shifting his eyes away. The woman didn't appear to anticipate a response, yet a tinge of disappointment crossed her face. Standing up, she quietly exited the room.

Sebastian's stomach lurched as the scene dissolved into mist, unveiling a new memory that unfolded before him like wisps of smoke. He inhaled deeply to steady himself, relieved to discover that he could still breathe within the Pensieve.

⭐ Ch. 34 ("Isidora") from "Book One: Like Moths to a Flame" on [AO3] and [Wattpad]

[washedupuriel]

I've got four HP headcanons I won't budge on, ever

In no particular order:

1. Minerva McGonagall is a lesbian. I refuse to acknowledge the supplementary material the TERF wrote online, tyvm.

2. You don't have to dunk your face into a pensieve in order to enter the thoughts in it. A touch with your finger or hand is enough. It's just how Harry first entered one in his fourth year and nobody has seen a reason to correct him. Dumbledore always lets him enter first in HBP because he finds it incredibly funny and endearing and honestly it's gone on for too long to say anything at this point and he always allows himself a little chuckle before following which is why he always arrives only when Harry has already finished taking in his surroundings in the memory

3. Albus Dumbledore and Alastor "Mad-Eye" Moody had a short and ill-fated relationship after the 1st war, which slowly developed during all of those court meetings. This conveniently answers the question why the most powerful, cunning, manipulative wizard of his age (Dumbledore) didn't catch on that Moody, whom he apparently knew well, wasn't moody in GoF. He kept his distance, didn't ever look too closely at fake Moody because of residual pain and complicated emotions.

4. While we're on the point of ignoring what the TERF said, the decision to make Harry an Auror will never not baffle me. How on EARTH can you misunderstand your own main character this fundamentally? (Yes, I know the answer, centrist Blairite Libertarian) The only logical career for Harry, especially after re-reading DH, is DADA teacher at Hogwarts.

[sliebman10]

Pensieve

“They rummaged through my head, Moony,” Sirius said, tiredly rubbing his eyes. “I just want those memories gone.”

Remus squeezed his hand. “Ok,” he said softly. He put the stone basin between them, and Sirius took his wand and touched it to his temple. The gossamer strand of light attached to it, as Sirius watched it disappear into the pensieve.

“I don’t want to forget what happened…” Sirius said. “I can’t. But I can’t look at that memory anymore. It got me pardoned but... it makes me regret not killing Peter more than I already do.”

Word Count: 95

@wolfstarmicrofic

[hihimissamericanbi]

*Fresh Fic*

WAKE UP tumblr @emeryhall and I did a thing!!!

May we present to you, for your horny pleasure, 14K worth of our very first Drarry smut for @hpkinktober Day 8: Pensieve!!!! (Yes we are late don't judge)

Inspired by @delusionisaplace and their "inexperienced" smut prompts: "show me how you like it" ~ "are you sure you want to do this?" ~ "I've never done this before"

HAVE FUN DARLINGS!!

[levicorpus94]

Percival Rackham’s pensieve

[playfullygrownup]

I never would've thought you can make a drinkable (i.e., safe) blue, misty(!) and swirly potion in a cool bowl. Another fantastic project by Jen at EpBot. Never ceases to amaze me what my fellow geeks and nerds can make! (And how much of my high school chemistry I've forgotten, LOL.)

[allanodyne]

Am I forced to have any regret

by AllanOdyne

[schmem14]

Day 8: Pensieve

Summary: Harry has strange dreams and memories that don't feel like his. Weirder still is his sudden craving for MILF... Pairing: Harry Potter/Molly Weasley CW: Dark!Molly, Manipulation, Gaslighting, Memory-tampering, Unreliable narrator, Dubious consent, Arthur dies AU Rating: M

Written for: @hpkinktober

[lxdylestrxnge]

where: hogwarts when: 1967

she can wear a smile like an actor wears a role. produce tears like the ingénue of a motion picture. widen big brown eyes to impress innocence, like a child that needs protecting. it is her superpower. the ability to shift into whoever she needs to be. only those closest have the privilege of knowing who bellatrix truly is. how she truly feels about something. a blessing and a curse is probably most apt to say. she developed this talent at hogwarts. using those also within the walls as test subjects. if you were lucky enough, it wasn't that serious. and of course, it had been impressed upon her that it was important that any waves she made were purposeful and could not ruin her opportunities to excel.

she moved with ease, down the corridor, anticipating every turn before it came. she'd walked these halls so many times before. she never particularly enjoyed when she couldn't move fluidly. which was often when someone else was in the way. not moving fast enough for her. and she had never been one to wait patiently. or even impatiently.

"walk with purpose, or get out the way," she harped firmly, her voice carrying down the hallway. "it'd be just terrible if you tripped, and...broke something," she added.

[deepwaterdreams]

To know when to stop

I'm writing a fic set post-hogwarts legacy on ao3, here's a snippet of the first chapter ;)

Summary : A decade has passed, and despite all her efforts, there were memories Agnes could not just forget about. Perhaps the key was to remember, to be whole again. Even if it meant remembering him.

______________________________________________________________

     It spread and a pensieve came out of it. Above, there were phials, identical. In a way, they were the same: just as precious and painful, they all had that common element she tried to forget for a decade, hopelessly, uselessly. With caution, she opened one.

     She poured the content in the pensieve, slowly. The curls and clouds forming inside seemed harmonious and strangely familiar, they called for her. Had she really no other choice? She was already in so much pain, would she be able to endure more? She forgot for a reason. But as of now, she could not keep going as she did. She was weak, but she had to be strong, for Anne, for Ominis, for their child. She had to be. How could she help them if she was weak and incomplete? Too bad for her if she was hurting, she had to bear it. With an inhale of oxygen filled with fear, she dived into it, already feeling tears forming in her eyes.

     “When you said you could help me with care for magical creatures class, I expected we would go outside, you know, with the magical creatures that is? Shah is strangely made to resist the cold night, but still, that is a bit much to say she is a creature, even for me …”

     “Are you finished?”, Agnes laughed.

     “Never, I would even say that is part of my charming personality”.

     She rolled her eyes and smiled at the same time. She would never say it to his face, but Sebastian was absolutely right. She just knew that if she looked at him, she would see that mischief she loved dancing in his eyes, that cocky smile of his and raised eyebrows as the sign he is damn proud of himself. She would not give him the satisfaction to know how much he was right. Instead, she just kept walking until she was in that familiar place. She stopped and started to pace in front of the empty wall. Sebastian looked at her, confused.

     “Are you feeling alright?”, he asked, “Did someone cursed you or something?”

     “Wait and see”.

     The door appeared as expected in front of them. She took a certain pleasure in seeing her friend dumbstruck and she opened the door with a ceremonious teasing gesture, inviting him to go inside with a caricatural “after you dear sir” and a bow just as exaggerated.

     “How did you find this place?”, he asked.

     Inside, he saw the giant hippogriff statue in the middle of the room and the – too many? – numerous pots where she grew variety of plants she would use in potions during her potion classes or her many adventures and explorations. She saw him look at her never-ending libraries, full of books, with a certain want. His eyes then went to the vivarium in front of him, then on the others. A sudden crack startle Sebastian and he looked curiously at the house-elf that appeared in the room.

      “Hello Deek”, she greeted.

     “Do we have a special guest today?”, he simply asked after bending his head as a greeting.

     “Sebastian is a friend”, she explained, “he needs help for our care for magical creatures class, I thought we could show him the one we saved and that it wouldn’t bother professor Weasley”.

     “Deek thinks it is a good idea”, the creatures answered, way to happy to show to someone the good work they did with all those creatures.

     “Come”, she said to Sebastian, way to surprised by everything to say or do anything really.

     She took the stairs to her right and went up. Sebastian hurried to be by her side and leaned towards her.

     “You’ve got a house-elf?”, he shouted-whispered, “What in Merlin’s name is this room?”.

     “The Room of Requirement, and you haven’t seen half of it yet”.

     Once they reached the vivarium she wanted to show him, she stopped and Sebastian seemed strangely focused.

     “When we are inside, stay by my side. They don’t know you, but if you stay close to me, they should understand you are a friend”, she explained.

     “They should?”, he repeated, uncertainty in his voice. “Wait, who is “they”?”.

     She simply smiled and entered the vivarium. The light, which was so different inside, blinded her for a second to the point where she felt like the world turned completely white all the sudden. The air and the sea-spray tickled her nose, and she could not help but feel instantly relaxed. She heard Sebastian cursed again behind her.

     “Beautiful, isn’t it?”, she laughed, “Look! Highwing is coming to say hi!”

     The hippogriff landed and trotted in her direction happily, hoping to be petted, probably for a treat if possible as well, as the little curious glutton she was.

     “It’s … incredible”, Sebastian gasped.

     “Professor Weasley showed me this room, so that I can work and catch up with the other students”, Agnes explained.

     “The Undercroft is pale in comparison …”

     “I like the Undercroft! Besides, I don’t learn the same things in both rooms. You should bow, hippogriffs are proud, you need to show them you respect them. Don’t straighten up until I say so”.

     Clumsily, she saw Sebastian do exactly that. Highwing tilted her head several times, came closer to sniff him and eventually, she bowed in front of the Slytherin boy. She accepted him.

     “See?”, she said enthusiastically, “She likes you already, you are doing great”.

     “If you say so … Kneazles are yowling every time I get to close to their taste, even puffskeins go avay when they see me”, he grumbled.

     “Let’s say you may be too … direct?”

     “Direct? What do you mean?”

     “Well, maybe a bit rough or brutish. You are too impatient with creatures. You need to be softer with them”.

     “I can be soft!”

     She laughed while taking Highwing’s head in her hands to place a noisy kiss at the base of her beak. She shook her head at the gesture, but she then proceeded to rub her head on her little human, to show her own affection.

     “You can touch her, if you want to”, she offered.

     “I want to keep both my hands”, he simply replied.

     “Highwing is adorable!”

     “Until you’re missing your nose. Even professor Howin would tell you so”.

     “Professor Howin is not here and she doesn’t know what we went through together. Some ordeals just bound beings”.

     “Like a troll attack, for example?”

     She giggled when he brought that memory back. If that troll attack was not that terrifying and ravaging, she would gladly relive that first day in Hogwarts.

     “We still had a great time in the Three Broomsticks”, she countered.

     “Before or after Rockwood and Harlow threats?”, he grinned.

     “Fine, fine, but how did you say it again? I would say that is part of my charming personality”.

     “Alright, you win this one”.

     With a flick of her wand, she made a brush appeared. Knowing full well the object, Highwing turned a bit so that she could be brushed exactly to the spots she enjoyed most.

     “We decided to save creatures with Deek”, she started. “There are a lot of poachers around and we don’t really know what they are doing to creatures after they caught them. But we figured it couldn’t be good, not according to Deek’s experience, and he was previously owned by a poacher before working at Hogwarts. We just want to help”.

     Sebastian said nothing and she didn’t know what to expect. Would he be on her side? Would he say she is mental to go after poachers? Would he understand her quest to help just animals?Highwing peeped happily under the strokes of the brush.

     “Look at her, isn’t she amazing?”, she said, full of admiration for the creature in front of her.

     “Amazing indeed …”

     She turned her head to look at the Slytherin boy. He too had a look of admiration in his eyes, only he was staring at her. She chose to focus on the hippogriff to conceal her blushing cheeks. In the sky, she heard Caligo called for his partner, followed by the fwooper couple Filipine’s and Fernand’s chirping.

     “Are you going to keep them here?”, Sebastian asked then.

     “Where do you want me to keep them otherwise?”

     Highwing kept peeping under the petting she was receiving, rubbing her head again and again against Agnes’s robe. Clearly it was not black anymore, spots of dust and slobber of different creatures. A small price to pay if you asked her, to received gesture of affection from equally impetuous and adorable creatures. 

     “Outside?”, he suggested.

     “What about poachers?”, she said, mortified. “They know Highwing and Caligo. Charlotte was terrified because she was locked in a cage, in the middle of the Forbidden Forrest. Jack was going to be killed because he was stealing treasures in Irondale”.

     Just to think of her little nifflers and their doom if she hadn’t been there and hadn’t rescued them in time brought tears into her eyes.

     “You realise you can’t save them all?”, he asked.

     He was worried for her, she understood. Clearly, he did not care as much as her about her creatures, but he did care about her. He did care about how it would affect her. She sighed, sadly. She knew he was right.

     “I know”, she admitted. “Not all of them, but at least, for some, I can try to give them a home. A home feels nice when you are scared and alone”.

     He did not say a thing for a while. Highwing started to run after Caligo and both hippogriffs flew away, majestic. How she loved those creatures, she found them being so proud, so beautiful, so free. The speed of their gallop, the exhilaration of their flight … Sometimes, she envied them, wished to be similar. She sat in the sand, simply enjoying the view, the breeze. She felt Sebastian doing the same next to her.

     “You never speak of it, I can help but wonder”, Sebastian started cautiously, “How is your home? I never heard you say a thing about your family while I harp on about mine”.

     “Nothing to say about it, really”, she shrugged.

     “I won’t insist if you don’t want to talk about it, I was just curious”.

     “I … grew up in an orphanage, near London”.

     She looked at the boy next to her. She was waiting for a quick remark, a reaction, something, just to cut the tension that was building. But he said nothing, instead, he just offered a understanding look and encouraged her to carry on with her story.

     “I was adopted once”, she revealed. “They took me back because they couldn't handle me. I told them I saw fairies and that I liked when the nice lady from next door came to play with me in my room. They just could take it anymore”.

     “Why? It was only words from a child, it was a bit extreme”.

     “The nice lady from next door was dead long before I arrived, there was only her husband in the house. I think I saw her ghost, but since they were Muggles, they couldn’t see her. As for fairies, I think I only saw small lights, similar to what I see with ancient magic. But I insisted so much they couldn’t bear it anymore. I didn’t correspond to their idea of the perfect family”.

     “Still, they brought you back like an old used cauldron …”

     He wasn’t wrong, of course, still, it hurt to hear it. Typical Sebastian: sympathising while hurting, or the other way around. He was always double-edged, but she was still so certain he possessed a good heart. He just never thought before talking or acting.

     “I eventually understood that I had to be more discreet to be accepted”, she went on. “So I blended. It worked, but too well I suppose. I was never adopted again, and now I’m too old”.

     “What do you mean?”

     “It’s … like pets? There are more chances to be adopted as a child. A child is cute, adorable. Nobody wants a troubled teenager. It also means I have to find a job quickly because when I turn sixteen, I’m not able to live in the orphanage anymore, and I will be in the street, alone, homeless and poor”.

     She hugged her knees to have a semblance of reassurance. She was able to forget about all of that, with Professor Fig’s arrival in her room, their private lesson in the professor’s house, the goblin rebellion, ancient magic and so on. It was a heavy burden to bear, but she could just forget about her life for a moment, forget about her problem, forget about her.

     “You won’t be alone. The professors know about this, right? And even if they can’t do anything, we don’t need them, we’ll figure something out”.

     She smiled, a sad smile, before looking at him. In his eyes, she could see that determined spark, bright in his brown tender eyes. Who was she to take that away from him?

     “You don’t believe me”, he stated, a bit disappointed.

     “It’s not that”, she sighed. “I just know how it always ends. Every friend I could have and who were adopted all swore we wouldn’t become stranger. I never heard of them after that. I get it: they want to live their orphan life behind them, build something new. Once, former orphan came back, asking for a job. He went away without one. But before he went away, he told us that once we are out, we were alone”.

     “In your Muggle world, maybe. But in our world, it’s different, better. We are better. I will help you, I swear. I just need to think of a way to do it, but it still easier than curing Anne. You’ll see, I’ll help you both, I won’t break my promise”.

     Equally impetuous and adorable. Sebastian was not that different from her darling hippogriffs: proud, not always when he should be, loyal, sometimes to a terrifying point. She laughed, maybe it was her nerves breaking, maybe it was the immense overwhelming gratitude she was feeling. What did she do to deserve such a friend? She felt without realising she was crying tears on her cheeks. It was probably the nerves then.

     Hesitantly, Sebastian came closer to her, put his arm around her shoulders and hugged her awkwardly. She nestled against him, crying without restrain.

     “Maybe I should not promise anything”, he joked. “Not if I get this type of reaction”.

     She laughed. Of course she laughed while crying when she was in his arms. Only him could do that. She pulled away from him, wiping off her tears and smiled at him.

     “There, much better”, he said. “With a smile that pretty, it would be a shame if I couldn’t see it more.”

     “What a charmer”.

     “Tell me it’s not working!”

     “Thanks”, she said more seriously. “I never spoke about it, to anyone”.

     “Well then, that would be another one of our secrets. Only ours”.

            She took her head out of the pensieve, her cheeks were wet, soaked. The liquid in pensieve never left a trace, nor was it damp. She put the memory in its phials hastily, closed it, locked the cabinet, and ran away [...].

[tananangel]

.　　　　　　　　♡　　ᴛʜɪꜱ ɪꜱ ʙʀᴀɴᴅᴏɴ'ꜱ ᴘᴇɴꜱɪᴇᴠᴇ 　　　　　　　　　　ㅤ18.06.2026　　　　 　 ⌵ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ 　　Il porzionatore affonda per l’ennesima volta nel gelato, realizza una pallina perfetta che va a completare la pila di tre gusti di un cono specialissimo　–　felix felicis, pistacchio e cioccolato, richiesto da Liam, bambino sdentatino di cinque anni. Lo ha riconosciuto subito, non appena ha messo piede in gelateria: è da quando era un frugoletto di pochi mesi che i suoi genitori lo portano al Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlour (spesso, ma soprattutto) ogni terza domenica di giugno. Ogni 𝙛𝙚𝙨𝙩𝙖 𝙙𝙚𝙡 𝙥𝙖𝙥𝙖̀. Buffo come la mente abbia tentato per tutto il giorno di allontanare il pensiero di tale ricorrenza e sia bastata una singola famigliola a demolire, con la sola loro presenza, la fortezza di carte che s’era creata. È che lo sa, Brandon, che quel gelato lo divideranno tutti e tre, che è la loro tradizione speciale, che rideranno della crema che li sporca, che saranno felici insieme. Che 𝘴𝘰𝘯𝘰 felici insieme sempre. Ogni giorno, non soltanto oggi. Che anche lui è felice, molto, grato della vita che ha la possibilità di condurre, di quanto sia fortunato ad avere sua madre, i suoi fratelli, la sua ragazza, i suoi amici, eppure… Eppure, mentre li osserva accomodarsi al tavolo interno in prossimità della vetrina, un pensiero lo agghiaccia: 𝑝𝑒𝑟𝑐ℎ𝑒�� 𝑙𝑢𝑖 𝑝𝑢𝑜̀ 𝑎𝑣𝑒𝑟𝑒 𝑑𝑢𝑒 𝑝𝑎𝑝𝑎̀ 𝑒 𝑖𝑜 𝑛𝑒𝑚𝑚𝑒𝑛𝑜 𝑢𝑛𝑜? La vergogna lo assale nell'immediato, si manifesta sotto forma di nausea, sudori freddi che lo costringono a slacciarsi il grembiule, lasciarlo senza cura sul bancone. 　　« Mi prendo cinque minuti di pausa » annuncia a chissà chi, le mani che tastano le tasche della giacca di jeans appesa nell’armadietto alla ricerca del pacchetto di sigarette. 𝐶ℎ𝑒 𝑚𝑒𝑟𝑑𝑎, è già la seconda della giornata: quante settimane di progressi sta mandando all’aria per una momentanea debolezza? La consapevolezza non riesce comunque a fermarlo, ché il bisogno è fin troppo forte e potrebbe impazzire, se non lo asseconda. Spazzare via il negozio col vento è impensabile, sua madre non lo perdonerebbe mai. 𝘌 𝘯𝘰𝘯 𝘭𝘰 𝘧𝘢𝘳𝘦𝘣𝘣𝘦 𝘯𝘦𝘱𝘱𝘶𝘳𝘦 𝘠𝘷𝘦𝘴 𝘍𝘰𝘳𝘵𝘦𝘴𝘤𝘶𝘦, se lo guardasse da qualsiasi posto si trovi. 𝑴𝒊 𝒈𝒖𝒂𝒓𝒅𝒊, 𝒑𝒂𝒑𝒂̀? Gli occhi scrutano il cielo alla ricerca di un segno, ma ci sono soltanto nuvole troppo comuni per essere considerate messaggi in incognito. Forse non ha nulla da dirgli. Forse è troppo impegnato per pensare a lui, 𝘮𝘢𝘨𝘢𝘳𝘪 𝘴𝘪 𝘦̀ 𝘳𝘪𝘧𝘢𝘵𝘵𝘰 𝘶𝘯𝘢 𝘯𝘰𝘯-𝘷𝘪𝘵𝘢　–　non lo biasimerebbe: sono passati dieci anni, del resto. Non lo sa, Brandon, e forse il dramma sta tutto qui: 𝘯𝘰𝘯 𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘰𝘴𝘤𝘦 𝘱𝘪𝘶̀ 𝘴𝘶𝘰 𝘱𝘢𝘥𝘳𝘦. Non sa immaginare come reagirebbe di fronte a determinate situazioni, che cosa direbbe, quali espressioni gli colorerebbero il volto. A furia di non pensare al proprio dolore, ha cancellato quella breve porzione di cammino che hanno condiviso fianco a fianco. Rivoli caldi gli bagnano le guance, s’affretta a cancellarli col pollice. 𝐶𝑜𝑚𝑒 𝑝𝑢𝑜̀ 𝑚𝑎𝑛𝑐𝑎𝑟𝑚𝑖 𝑐𝑜𝑠ı̀ 𝑡𝑎𝑛𝑡𝑜 𝑞𝑢𝑎𝑙𝑐𝑢𝑛𝑜 𝑐ℎ𝑒 ℎ𝑜 𝑑𝑖𝑚𝑒𝑛𝑡𝑖𝑐𝑎𝑡𝑜?