#perhaps a harry potter au is brewing

[bayofwolves]

thinking about a harry potter au for the spirit animals gang... what if they were wizards and got into shenanigans

the sorting hat declares conor a hufflepuff with no delay. conor is more than happy to be in the house of the just and loyal, though befuddled as to how a lowly muggle-born like him ended up at such a school at all. he misses his family's sheep, his dogs, the rolling hills of ireland, normal things, normal life.

abeke's house is a little less clear. the hat figures she would make a good hufflepuff, but ultimately decides she's bound for ravenclaw with a mind and soul like hers. she still writes unanswered letters to her wizard father and non-magical sister, unaware or perhaps unwilling to accept that they were glad to be rid of her.

meilin gets sent to slytherin, which she is quite pleased at. it's the superior house, really. her pureblood status and wealthy upbringing gives her a judgemental outlook on the rest of her peers until she befriends conor, rollan and eventually abeke. disturbingly, as the school years drag on, she begins to feel less and less in control of her own body. she is susceptible to long blackouts, and awakes in unknown locations doing unexplainable things. she fears she may be losing her mind.

rollan is a gryffindor through and through. he was held back a year at one point (becoming so preoccupied with a friend's deteriorating health that he couldn't properly attend to his studies), so he ends up in the same year as conor, abeke and meilin. he still doesn't do so well at school because he's spending most of his time flying on his broom. he is the first one to catch on to the trouble brewing in their midst, though, intuitive as he is.

shane is a textbook slytherin (clever, resourceful, ambitious, good leader) so he's with meilin, albeit two years above her. he... seems okay. he's decent, knowledgeable and kind. there's just something unidentifiable beneath the surface. something dark.

devin/worthy is a gryffindor, something that only makes sense after his journey of self-improvement. as devin, he is simply insufferable. rollan and conor's worst nightmare.

shane and abeke, despite their different houses, become the best of friends. in fact, they are each other's only friends for quite some time. shane teaches her how to fly, and abeke teaches him how to handle certain magical creatures. shane also spends a lot of time teaching abeke various spells, some more questionable than others. abeke tampers down her doubts about these. she trusts he is good at heart.

lenori, the divination professor, takes an interest in conor for reasons she won't say. conor has cryptic visions from time to time, about a serpent in the dungeons and a boy in a mask, but he tries to keep those to himself.

the plot twist is that shane was delving into the dark arts all along and is growing to be a powerful dark wizard. he's working for someone who needs his skills...

his followers (the conquerors, in canon) are the death eaters and they all bear the mark. despite this, they are all under a foul imperius curse -- and no matter how total shane's authority seems to be, they whisper he is under the very same enchantment.

meilin's increasingly odd behaviour reveals that she is a victim of this curse as well. the worst part is, no one knows who casts it...

all of this is happening when the gang are like. 13-15. the four really only became friends in their third year, and that was when things started to pick up speed.

the great beasts keep their canon forms in this au. they're like their own class of magical, god-like beings. some have closer relations to wizarding society than others. gerathon has lived underneath hogwarts for decades (taking the place of the basilisk).

the people who eventually form the redcloaks (shane included) are animagi gone wrong, i.e., they did the process incorrectly and ended up as wonky half-human, half-animals with no ability to transform into either form. the whole lot of them were secretly death eaters who sought to master the skill to disguise themselves, but they failed. miserably. tragically.

and naturally, the characters' patronuses appear as their spirit animals! except they have more agency and sentience as patronuses. the four are the only wizards whose patronuses have taken the form of the great beasts who died in the first wizarding war. it fulfills a prophecy. briggan, uraza, jhi and essix are gone from the world, but their spirits live on in the four heroes' patronuses.

if a character is not marked in spirit animals canon, then either the spell is too advanced for them to perform or their patronus is incorporeal... with a few exceptions.

for years, shane can only produce a silver wisp of a patronus. it is only after his betrayal of abeke, during the war of his own making against the rest of the wizarding world, that his patronus takes shape -- and he is humbled before the familiar figure of a leopard.

[jeongyunhoed]

Doing the Fic Writing Ask Game Because Yes

✅ list one or two favorite lines you’ve written and explain why they’re your favorite

-"It is against school rules to slip amortentia into anyone's drinks," Professor Sharp warned. "However, as the brewing of such a potion will be done under my supervision, I shall see to it that any leftover samples will be immediately destroyed. Love is a powerful emotion, much like certain types of magic. In the wrong hands, love can be taken to a dark place from which many have never returned." (Yule Balls and Old Foes)

Because I've been writing for a long time, this is just one of perhaps a number of favorite lines I have. Professor Sharp delivering a profound warning to students as they try and brew amortentia.

🧮 what are you working on? describe it in 20 words or less

-I'm currently working on Yule Balls but I've started writing At Your Service too.

🎶 do you write with music? does the music you’re listening to influence your writing?

-Yes! I love making playlists that serve as kind of an OST. Music's a big part of my writing.

💕 whats your favorite part of your writing process?

-The constant daydreaming about possible scenes.

😠 whats your least favorite part of your writing process?

-Trying to build up to the scene I've been daydreaming about once I finally get it down on a document.

🎀 how do you decide when something is done?

-When I've gone waaaay past my page number limit. Yes, I generally put a 10-page limit when it comes to my works nowadays because my previous writings have me at 15 pages or more so the chapter's incredibly long. hehe.

🌅 do you typically known the ending to something before you start writing it?

-Yes and no. Some fics, I do, but others, I'm not sure. I'm more focused on the buildup to that ending.

🔚 have you ever completely changed the direction a piece was going?

-....kind of? I'm not sure.

🤔 why do you write fic?

-Because it's a way for me to let out all the feels I've been feeling for something I consume. When I'm deep in my feels, I feel the urge to write.

⛔️ whats something you try to avoid in your work?

-I try and avoid making characters a little too invincible, because I see people often criticizing writers for making certain characters too perfect and too likeable. So I thought I'd write characters who make fools of themselves from time to time.

📚 do you ever read similar works while writing, or do you intentionally not read them?

-Both. I want to learn how to write better and be inspired but at the same time I don't want to seem like I'm copying off someone else's works.

🦉 give yourself a piece of writing advice

-Just write the damn thing no matter how bad it might be to you.

😊 say something nice about your writing

-...Nice world building (I'm talking about your Twilight Zone AU)

😭 what’s something you’re currently struggling with?

-I'm struggling with characterization of existing characters especially in Harry Potter/Hogwarts Legacy. Because my HCs might be different from what the majority of people in the fandom think and I've been told off by some rando on Ao3 about my HP fic about it, like "Do you not understand the canon at all?" kind of stuff. I know that's likely AI-generated/spam but I've been seriously traumatized by it.

🔥 what’s something that’s currently going really well?

I've been writing Chapter 28 of Yule Balls where Sebastian, Ominis, Anne, my MC Norah and her cousin Naru take the Knight Bus to Diagon Alley.

[u-look-beautiful-today]

I saw the hp thingy you posted for Wenclair and now i wanna know your hc for the whole Nevermore kids :p

I'm so sorry this has been sitting for a few days, I'm stupid and it took me a HOT minute to realize hp is Harry Potter (at least I hope it is cause I'm answering it as such) Also, these are just my own opinions and of course everyone is entitled to their own thoughts! I believe that most of these characters fit into multiple houses! Also, I'll add if they would play Quidditch or not.

Wednesday: I think a good majority of the fandom would put her in Slytherin and I would agree! However, I do headcanon that she wants to be in Ravenclaw and well, the Sorting Hat had other plans. I also find it funny to think about Wednesday getting placed into Ravenclaw and just being a fucking menace. She was BANNED from Quidditch but with some...convincing she was placed back on the team BUT with the promise that she is NOT allowed to be a Beater, so she becomes the Seeker.

Enid: I almost wanted to place her in Gryffindor, but her whole scene with Wednesday and saying "that's what friends do" and how much she values friendship and togetherness just made me convinced for Hufflepuff. Also, all Hufflepuffs are secretly FERAL and I stand by that. And I also love Slytherin/Hufflepuff relationships. She played for like a year, but was off-put when she broke a nail. She would rather cheer her girlfriend on. Also super cute image to see Enid wearing a Slytherin jersey for Wednesday.

Bianca: I'm so torn between Slytherin and Ravenclaw, just like Wednesday. But at the end of the day, Bianca is also a Slytherin. I mean COME ON. My girl went and made her own life for herself and reached her goals, basically poisoned Yoko to win a cup, and has a million walls up so no one sees her vulnerable. Slytherin. I also like the idea that her and Wednesday go rounds trying to be the top student. Captain of the Slytherin team obviously. She is the best Keeper to ever live.

Eugene: the biggest Hufflepuff to exist. Like I don't need any explanation. I would say that he has avoided Quidditch because he thought he wouldn't be any good, then during his last year he tries it out and turns out, he's a decent Seeker!

Yoko: I need fucking CHARACTERISTICS, MY GIRL DESERVED MORE SCREEN TIME...anyway, for now I want her in Ravenclaw. She would be a witch in the au so no vampire, but I would like to think she's super fucking wise and almost like she's lived for centuries. It also be funny to see Yoko just naturally super smart and it irks Wednesday to no end cause "what do you mean you learned how to do open heart surgery over the weekend?!?" Nah, she ain't down for Quidditch. Just like Enid, she would rather cheer on her own girlfriend than play.

Ajax: Hufflepuff. It's shown in the show that he seems to be loyal to his friends and he just has a very happy-go-lucky vibe about him. I also adore a good platonic Enid/Ajax, so they be the absolute chaotic/idiotic bestie duo that has all of the Hufflepuffs STRESSED. He was also BANNED. Not because of anything violent, but his antics were just too much.

Divina: Again, MY GIRL NEEDS SCREEN TIME. The most we see from her is really just going along with Bianca and being gay with Yoko. That being said, I would like to have her in Gryffindor. Mostly because of Ravenclaw/Gryffindor dynamics. Love the idea of Yoko just trying to chill in the common rooms and her girlfriend is just bouncing off the walls cause "THIS IS SO BORING, I NEED TO FIGHT GOD." Gryffindor Captain. She's a bit of a utility player, mostly does Chaser and Beater.

Kent: My boy also needs more screen time. I want the twins together and I would have them give off Weasley Twin vibes, so Gryffindor as well. I believe that Divina is his impulse control, however where Divina will say she's bored and needs to fight God, Kent will do it without telling ANYONE. He's the reason Gryffindor loses house points consistently. Obviously, he plays. He's a Beater and when the Twins are both the Beaters, absolute chaos during that game.

Tyler: Azkaban. Death penalty. He would only be a monster that Enid beats the fuck out of.

[seawolvesanddragons]

Anne With An E 12 Days of Christmas Countdown

1. Amortentia

(Note - this is a missing scene from a AWAE/Harry Potter au completed fic of mine on AO3)

“Amortentia,” Professor Allen intoned, “is one of the most difficult potions to brew. Even very few of my seventh year NEWT students manage to properly brew one successfully each year. Perhaps a blessing - we hardly need children mucking about with love potions.” 

There were a few scoffs at that from Anne’s classmates - though whether that was doubt that the seventh years were incapable, or at Allen calling them all children, Anne wasn’t sure. Ruby alone looked unaffected - though that could be because she was staring starry eyed at the potion. No matter how old they got, Ruby’s romantic nature never truly changed. 

“Today, since it is your first time learning about amortentia, we are beginning simply with observing it and examining the base ingredients. Next week you will be completing the potion’s from its final stage. If you manage to do it correctly, your potion should look like this,” Allen gestured to the wide cauldron in the center of the classroom. 

“I highly recommend you write this next part down,” Allen said and there was a scramble as several of the students dove for their quills. Anne and Diana, who had pulled their quills out at the start of class (Anne, in fact, had already begun writing notes) shared an amused glance. At the table next to them, Gilbert, quill also at the ready,  was shaking his head fondly at Jerry, who had nearly fallen off his stool. He caught Anne watching and shook his head at the Hufflepuff, in a “what can you do,” type of way. Anne grinned back. 

“Amortentia is easily recognizable by its pearly sheen and distinct vapor movement - see how it rises in spirals? Beware of a potion with these traits as much as you would be wary of one that looks almost like this - the only thing worse than a love potion made well is a love potion made poorly,” Allen warned. 

“Speaking from experience?” Josie muttered under her breath across from them. Anne bit down on her lip to keep from laughing. 

“The most interesting symptom of the potion is its smell,” Allen continued. “It’s different for everyone, as the potion replicates the scents that remind you of things you like. One might smell a favorite homemade treat, or location. Take a moment to reflect on what you smell. Write down everything you observe on the potion and hypothesize its ingredients - it should take at least six inches. Begin.” 

Allen’s lecture stopped abruptly, the potions master suddenly vanishing behind a stack of what Anne suspected were ungraded essays. 

For the next moment the classroom was filled with odd hissing noises as everyone kept taking dramatic breaths. 

“What do you smell?” Anne asked Diana, kicking her leg against the stool. She had already finished writing down everything she could observe. 

“Freshly cut roses, something...woody? Spicy?” Diana wrinkled her brow. “I can’t place it.” 

“The forest, maybe? Or the greenhouses?” Anne suggested. Diana shrugged. “Anything else?” 

“Broomstick polish,” Diana said, face falling slightly. Anne reached out and gripped her hand wordlessly. 

“I smell cinnamon, my mother’s perfume, and fresh ink,” Ruby chimed in, a besotted look on her face.

“What does Moody have to do with any of those?” Josie asked. Ruby blushed furiously. 

“What do you smell, Anne?” Ruby asked quickly, clearly hoping to move the situation along. 

“Marilla’s plum puffs, the smell of books, and,” Anne took another deep breath. “The forest.” 

“We match,” Jerry turned around. “I smelled Marilla’s plum puffs and the forest as well. Plus my broomstick polish.” 

Anne turned to Diana. “Diana, this is very serious. Professor Allen clearly brewed the potion wrong.” 

“Anne,” Diana shook her head, but Anne could see the corners of her mouth turn up. “It isn’t the end of the world to have similar interests as Jerry.” 

“At least he didn’t smell books as well,” Anne sighed dramatically. 

“Hey, that was one of Gilbert’s scents as well,” Jerry said happily. 

Gilbert started, only half paying attention to the conversation. “How did you know what? I never told you what I smelled.” 

“I can read it over your shoulder,” Jerry shrugged. “I was trying to see what you put down for the ingredients. You smelled books, Bash’s stew, and,” Jerry paused, turning his head to see better. “What’s that third one? An-” 

“You can copy my ingredient list,” Gilbert interrupted quickly, rolling up his scroll so only that section was open. “I don’t mind.” 

“You’re a saint,” Jerry grinned. 

“Gilbert, he’s never going to learn if you do it for him!” Anne scolded. “Honestly, why would you do such a thing?” 

Gilbert muttered something under his breath. Anne could only make out a few phrases - “self-preservation��� and “win the family over.” 

Anne rolled her eyes. Honestly, Gilbert said the most nonsense things sometimes. 

***

(Potions, seventh year)

“You have the remaining double period to complete your amortentia potion,” Allen drawled. “Remember, if your potion starts turning any shade of green, back away and alert me immediately. Do not try to fix it yourselves.” He cast a quick look at Musa and Jerry, who had managed to blow up one cauldron and disintegrate another in the five weeks that Allen had partnered them up. Considering Musa was fairly adequate at potions and Jerry was brilliant at the herbology aspect, Anne wasn’t really sure what kept going wrong there. 

“Begin,” Allen said, and there was a flurry as the class started chopping and slicing. 

“Ready partner?” Gilbert grinned, nudging Anne’s elbow. 

“Mhm,” Anne nodded, not trusting herself to speak. The last few weeks of being potion partners with Gilbert had been bearable, if Anne had to pick a term. Any satisfaction of a well matched partner was instantly overtaken by the struggle of being in close proximity of Gilbert several times a week, which turned into fear she would let it affect her potion making. It never did, of course, which led right into satisfaction at a job well done, relief at having such a good potion partner, and then she was right back at the start of it all. 

Anne had weathered the course with maturity and positivity, in her opinion. But this? Brewing a love potion with Gilbert Blythe of all people? That was far too much. 

So began the longest two hours of Anne’s life. 

First, it was Gilbert’s hand brushing hers when he reached for the chopping knife. Then she was momentarily entranced with the way his curls fell into his eyes as he measured out ingredients. Worst was how solid he seemed next to her when they took turns stirring the potion, counting carefully, like he fit there somehow. 

Luckily for Anne, distraction came along in the last half hour to take her mind off of her predicament. 

They had brewed the potion wrong. 

“Are you sure we stirred it enough, Anne?” Gilbert asked, frowning. “Not that I doubt your potion brewing skills, but the smell is still off.” 

“I’m certain. But you’re right, we’re missing something,” Anne insisted. “Last time I could smell three things-” 

“Books, the forest, and plum puffs,” Gilbert nodded. “I remember. But you can’t smell them?” 

Anne paused, momentarily distracted. “You remember what I smelled?” 

“You and Jerry started arguing over it,” Gilbert shrugged. 

Anne decided the mature thing to do would be to ignore the funny feelings that were dancing around inside and move on. This was about learning. Her grade was on the line. 

“I can smell the plum puffs and the books, but the forest isn’t there - we must have messed up the measurement on something... ” Anne mused. “Are we sure we put enough wild pansy stems in there?” 

“We triple checked,” Gilbert shook his head frantically. “Do you smell anything else? Maybe there’s something that replaced the forest.” 

Anne wanted to argue that was simply impossible - she loved the forest, the home of some many adventures and wonders and friendships - but she stopped herself right in time. 

Gilbert wasn’t trying to be rude. He was just being logical, trying to think through why their potion would be wrong. 

“That’s...possible.” Anne allowed. “But I don’t smell anything else. Just books and plums. Nothing else. What about you?”

“The same issue,” Gilbert sighed. “Just the spices Bash uses and books. But if it isn’t the wild pansy’s-” Gilbert’s brow furrowed, deep in thought. “Let’s try-”

“Mr. Blythe, Miss Shirley-Cuthbert,” Allen interrupted, suddenly appearing beside them. “Step away from your cauldron please.” 

They obliged. Anne’s palms began to sweat as Allen peered over their amortentia. This was it - the end of her and Gilbert’s perfect streak. Perhaps they’d still get good marks, the sheen and consistency was right, after all, and the vapors were spiraling...

“Perfect,” Allen stated. “Again. Ten points each to Ravenclaw and Slytherin. Moving on - Miss Barry, Miss Gillis, your turn.” 

“I - how-” Anne whispered, glancing at Gilbert. “He didn’t notice?” 

“Guess we lucked out,” Gilbert said. “Thank Merlin. Though it’s going to bother me for ages, trying to figure out what we did wrong.”

“You and me both,” Anne said. “Come on, might as well begin cleaning up.”

Anne elected to put the leftover potion ingredients back in the cupboard while Gilbert scourgified their cutting knives. 

The cupboard was on the opposite side of the room, requiring Anne to pick her way carefully past both Diana and Ruby’s table as well as Cetus and Josie’s. The vapors from their cauldrons filled the air by the cupboard. 

At least one of them must have brewed their potion correctly - Anne caught a whiff of plum, the familiar scent of books - she inhaled deeply, wanting to linger on the scent. 

Wait - why had Gilbert followed her? 

Anne turned around, mouth already open to ask him, but he wasn’t there. Gilbert was still at their table, all the way on the other side of the classroom. 

So why had her brain thought he was right behind her? 

*

“That,” Jerry declared as he stormed out of potions, “was the worst one yet. Honestly, what was Allen thinking.” 

“It does bring a whole new level to the depths of denial,” Moody agreed. 

“I really thought this would be it,” Musa said. “They were brewing amortentia . How did it not come up?”

“They thought they brewed the potion wrong,” Diana said, still in disbelief. “They have a perfect streak in potions-”

“To all of our irritation,” Josie sniffed. 

“And each of them is aware of how they feel yet they still managed to think they brewed the potion wrong instead of it being an issue that they were already standing next to each other!” 

“I think I might hate them,” Cetus said solemnly. “Or Allen. I really, really do. Their fretting over a mistake that didn’t exist was so distracting I almost knocked over my cauldron.” 

“They thought they brewed the potion wrong, ” Diana repeated again. She looked close to tears. 

“Okay, let’s get Diana to the kitchens,” Ruby said gently. “I think she needs a nice cup of tea to calm down.” 

“Or something stronger,” Jerry muttered. 

“Jerry, no.” 

“I always knew it would be Anne that drove me to drink."

[kawaragi]

# keisuke baji. durmstrang!keisuke au / harry potter au. fem!reader. takes place during a triwizard tournament event. keisuke is a year 5 student.

# okay i know i mentioned gryffindor!keisuke once but like now . lets consider durmstrang!keisuke <3

“did you hear? keisuke baji’s got a crush on you.”

“i heard that too - lucky you.”

who the hell is keisuke baji, anyway? you have never heard of this name during your years at hogwarts, sure as hell not a new student either. “who?”

“keisuke baji? durmstrang? you’ve seen him when they came to the great hall,” your friend said, though they weren’t looking at you as they were particularly busy writing on their already halfway-done essay.

“i don’t recall - oh, the guy with the uhh…” you make an attempt to remember what this keisuke baji looked like. you remember your friends singling out the one attractive boy in durmstrang’s group of boys that they had sent over to hogwarts. “he had a low ponytail right? because of the little hats that they wore.”

“yeah, that’s right,” your other friend said, except they had completely abandoned their schoolwork to talk about this seemingly attractive boy. you’d be a liar if you said that one particular boy isn’t handsome, he is, but you wouldn’t try and shoot your shot - you guess. “but! he has a crush on you, apparently.”

that statement made your nose scrunch. “how? i’ve never spoken to him before… i don’t think - not that i remember - hey, we’ve never been in the same area. at all.”

your two friends squint their eyes at you, which ultimately made you fluster. “oh please, you guys believe me, right? please.”

keisuke had no idea that he was being talked about among hogwarts students and some of the students from the other visiting school, beauxbatons. he wasn’t interested in finding his ‘one true love’ at his age and this point in time, he was present to show his full support to whoever was going to be chosen as durmstrang’s champion for triwizard tournament.

he lied about the crush thing, all he wanted was to be left alone. he had heard your name and managed to put two and two together with the way you turned around as a response to who called your name. it was the only one that stood out to him despite only staying at hogwarts for merely a few weeks. he could’ve used any other name but…

yours stood out to him.

a few days after, you were far too distracted to watch where you were going and pay no mind to the incoming students in front of you. as a result, a shoulder-check happened too often. drowning in thought, perhaps you were dwelling too much on how you answered your defense against the dark arts teacher or how you’ve written your answer for the pop quiz in arithmancy, it was obvious you were in too deep in the brewing thoughts.

keisuke had been walking that day, coincidentally towards your direction. he fancied the stone circle after a friend he made recently, chifuyu matsuno of the hufflepuff house, mentioned it to him.

all of my friends will be there, you should come with us! need some familiarity in this school, don’t’cha?

what’s the harm in making friends? it’s not like he’d see them again once he leaves. not like they’d write him letters off to bulgaria. not like he’d find any use for the stationery his mother had bought for him to use for his friends. there’s no harm, right?

“shit! i’m so sorry- i-i didn’t see you-”

“i’m fine, see? oh- it’s you!”

you look at him, eyes blinking before realizing that your hand has been on his forearm the entire time after you collided with this kid - impressively stable and… strong. “me? wait- huh? oh, wait, you’re…”

“keisuke baji!” the boy seemed far too excited to be talking to you. in some way, his enthusiasm to be speaking with you made you feel quite warm; when was the last time someone had been this excited to be exchanging a few words with you? “i-i’m sorry, i assumed you know me-”

“i do know you,” you said, fighting back a smile when the oh-so famous keisuke baji was practically crumbling in embarrassment in front of you. he’s cuter up close, but that was all he was - cute. “i’m-”

“i know your name,” he cut you off, and that was until he grabbed hold of your wrist and began pulling you away from the crowded hallway. the students thought of this rather differently, expressing ooo’s and whispers to one another.

keisuke pulled you into an empty hallway, thinking that he was going to do something to you, you had your wand at the ready, to which he frowned upon on. “i just wanted to say i was sorry for using you and saying i had a crush on you.”

he looked genuinely sorry, but you don’t let go of your wand, instead you lower it. “i thought that was peculiar… i’m sorry to ask but, what’d you do that for?”

keisuke sits down on the empty bench, his fingers entertwined with one another as he carefully forms and chooses his words. “ever since i got here at hogwarts, i couldn’t go through the day without someone asking me if i’m seeing someone.”

you sat down next to him, but keeping a safe distance from him to make sure he didn’t feel uncomfortable nor you. to someone who isn’t keisuke, maybe this was something that’s too little to whine about. pushing somebody’s boundaries like this was of course not kind nor needed.

“i’m sorry you had to go through that, baji,” you told him. instinctively, you reached out to rub his back, but you barely knew him so you retracted your hand back.

“it’s okay,” he told you with a smile. this time, though, you could see his fangs. nobody told you his canines were sharp. it was like his charm. “you can rub my back, hug me or hold my hand - i’m joking. but… i won’t say no to back rubs.”

you hesitated at first of course, feeling like you were in no place to be touching him like you’ve known him for a long time. but it seemed like he really needed said back rub. “thanks for listening to me, even if it’s short notice.”

“it’s no problem, but let me know if you need anything, or a question about hogwarts. i might be able to answer it.”

he cackled at your statement, reaching out his hand in front of you for a handshake. it was like a natural thing for you to shake his hand, as if… you’ve known him for a while now. “it’s a pleasure to finally spoke to you and hear your voice!”

“likewise! i guess i’ll see you around, then?” you asked, a smile adorning your face. though your face had started to feel strained - you hadn’t smiled this much since speaking to keisuke.

“that you will. i promise.”

[hualianff]

Mi Amor(tentia)

A Window To The Past – John Williams

Harry Potter AU. In his final year at Hogwarts, headboy and Hufflepuff quidditch team captain XL is caught up in a scandal where he performed magic in front of muggles to protect them from dangerous, dark sorcerers who had escaped Azkaban.

After the crucial incident ends with minor injuries to the muggles and XL’s miraculous defeat of all five dark wizards–though only one of them was successfully captured–the ministry expels him from Hogwarts due to his hasty and rash decision to duel without calling for backup, exposing hundreds of muggles to magic. The normalization of advanced technology had led to an alarming spread of awareness of the wizarding world. A messy clean-up indeed.

XL’s family’s name was dragged through the mud, the once appraised pure-blooded lineage honored no more. In addition to being estranged from his parents, XL’s so-called friends left him alone. He also lost a lot of who he was in his early adolescence. Since then, he has learned that even when his intentions are good, the end result isn’t always favorable.

After being expelled, disowned, and alienated from the wizarding world at age eighteen, XL traveled the world completing various bizarre jobs in order to get by and keep busy. Over a decade later, XL chooses to take the base exam equivalent to graduating from a magic school. With this requirement completed, and his years’ worth of experience under his belt, XL is qualified to teach as a professor at a magic school.

XL is lucky that JW, as the new headmaster, decided to hire XL onto the staff, as the new herbology professor. Herbology was always XL’s favorite subject. He’s in the middle of writing a massive index of new species he observed during his twenties!

It’s been so long since XL stepped foot in Hogwarts. Funnily enough, it feels a lot like coming home, a feeling XL hasn’t had in many years. He has a week to re-familiarize himself with the school grounds and meet the other professors before the students are scheduled to arrive for the new year.

One of the tasks XL is assigned as the herbology professor is to supply the potions professor with special plants and ingredients he has access to. The potions professor is named Hua Cheng, an intriguing name if XL says so himself. Though the first two times XL searches HC out to figure out which ingredients were needed most, HC isn’t in the room.

XL ponders if he should put together a basket of goods based on his own memory of which ingredients are popular in potions and see if HC has other suggestions afterward. Instead, XL decides to leave a letter arranging a meet-up time in hopes he can converse with the potions professor in person.

The next day XL enters the potions room, a tall youth stands over a cauldron while glancing down at a thick, opened book. He wears the standard black robes, the emerald green collar symbolizing he is part of Slytherin’s house. His hair is tied up in a high ponytail. XL wonders how a student is allowed to brew potions in the classroom a few days before all the other students return to Hogwarts.

He must be a prefect, or even headboy, to gain this privilege, XL decides.

XL shuffles around a bit until the youth notices his presence.

“Hello! So sorry to interrupt. I’m looking for Hua Lao Shi,” XL greets politely with a nod of his head. The youth merely straightens up. He tilts his head without saying anything. XL figures he must be a bit confused. XL quickly introduces himself, “I’m Xie Lao Shi, your new herbology instructor.”

The Slytherin student blinks. “Nice to meet your acquaintance, Xie Lao Shi. May I ask what the subject of your meeting with Hua Lao Shi entails?”

“Ah, I simply need to discuss the supplies Hua Lao Shi needs for the start of the school year.”

“Oh, that’s very considerate of Xie Lao Shi to ask beforehand. None of the previous herbology professors did so,” the youth comments idly. He steps away from the cauldron, waving his hand over it to temporarily seal the potion. XL’s eyebrows raise, impressed at the casual display of finesse. “But it’s nearly the start of the school year. Am I correct in my assumption that Hua Lao Shi hasn’t made himself readily available for a meeting?”

XL hums good-naturedly. “I’m sure he has his reasons. He must be quite busy these days leading up to classes starting.”

The Slytherin student lifts his hands in a playful shrug, a gesture implying, “As if.” He must be really close to the potions professor to act like this behind his back.

“Do you, by chance, know where Hua Lao Shi is at the moment?” XL asks, approaching the youth.

“Probably in Slytherin’s common room. At the beginning of each year, Hua Lao Shi performs numerous charms to prevent it from being ruined by whatever disastrous activities students engage in throughout the year,” the youth answers. He gathers up a bundle of scrolls to the left of the potions book, walking around the table to stand next to XL. “I can lead Xie Lao Shi to our common room, if he wishes.”

“Yes. That would be wonderful,” XL confirms with a smile. They begin exiting the potions room. “Thank you…?”

“Xie Lao Shi can call me San Lang.”

“San Lang seems very knowledgeable and mature for his age. Am I correct in my assumption that you are headboy?” XL questions, eager to know more about this charming youth who has given him the warmest welcome to Hogwarts yet.

SL lets out a throaty chuckle, eyes briefly closing as he laughs. Next, he sets those dark eyes on XL, shining with mirth. They maintain a steady pace of winding down staircases and corridors that eventually lead down to the dungeons.

“I’m afraid Xie Lao Shi is incorrect in his assumption this time. Headboy does not suit me.”

“Hmm, I beg to differ, based on the conversations I have had with you thus far,” XL disagrees lightly. Without thinking about his next words, XL continues teasingly, “San Lang seems like the perfect character to be in charge and order others around.”

This emits another loud laugh from SL. A hint of satisfaction bubbles in XL’s chest.

When they finally arrive at their destination, SL doesn’t even need to utter a password for the passage to open up. Strange, XL thinks. SL truly must be a figure to be reckoned with.

They enter an empty common room, spotless of any disorganization. Yet, no Hua Lao Shi in sight. XL follows SL who places the scrolls on the largest table in the room, which is already packed with inked parchment.

XL’s eyes flit over the pieces of parchments, belatedly making out class instructions, plans, and assignments written out.

Wait a second…

XL snaps his eyes back to SL, who turns around while pulling out the hair tie. Long, thick waves of raven hair spill over his shoulders; a black eyepatch now covers his right eye.

“Welcome, Xie Lao Shi,” Hua Cheng says knowingly, voice notably deeper. “Shall we start our discussion about the supplies?”

***

Potions professor HC is also the head of Slytherin. He is considered a prodigy who has published five potion manuals that are highly regarded among the wizarding world. HC is very intimidating and direct with his words; strict with his instruction but gives credit where credit is due. And he certainly doesn’t hesitate to take away house points!

He is known to wear an eyepatch but no one knows the reason why.

To put it shortly, many of the students and staff fear him.

Because XL hasn’t kept up with the wizarding world’s gossip, he didn’t know about HC’s reputation, even less about his physical appearance! It took HC revealing his true identity with the eyepatch for XL to recognize he had been talking to the potions professor all along!

***

“How very sly of Hua Lao Shi to masquerade as a student this entire time,” XL says with disbelief. He is incredibly close to dissipating right then and there from the sheer embarrassment of not realizing his mistake. Perhaps the Slytherin common room has a mysterious hole that can swallow him out of sight.

“I apologize if I have offended Xie Lao Shi in any way. However, he is the one who sees me as young enough to be a student. How could I do anything but indulge him?” HC replies, not unkindly.

“Hua Cheng is indeed...shameless,” XL breathes out. He doesn’t know what to do with himself, mind and body telling him to find a place to hide!

He settles for taking a seat at the table.

“Please, continue to call me San Lang,” HC requests gently. He takes a seat next to XL, rolling out a blank piece of parchment to write out the ingredients he’ll need from XL. “‘Hua Cheng’ is too formal.”

The explanation is surely a bit faulty? Why have XL call him ‘San Lang’ when his name is actually ‘Hua Cheng?’ Do the other professors call HC ‘San Lang?’

XL clasps his hands together on the table.

“Very well. I will address you as San Lang, but only when we’re alone,” XL says, determined to remain professional in front of the students.

Wait, that was very suggestive, wasn’t it-?

“When we’re alone, may I call you Gege?” HC adds on, interrupting XL’s internal panic. The younger man pins XL with a curious gaze, staring in a way XL is not used to being stared at. XL clears his throat while looking away.

“I will allow it.”

(Brainchild w/ @no-one-says-hi) 

《II》

[attackfish]

ooh, 5 hcs for the universe where zuko appeared in the harry potter one?

I should be trying to wind this universe down because I am ramping up my other HP AU thst I am much more into, but eh. Continued from: [Link], [Link], [Link], [Link], [Link], [Link], and [Link].

1. Zuko takes an instant and irrevocable dislike to two of his teachers. One is Snape, and this is only to be expected. Having spent the last year in Sirius and Remus's company and as their protege, Snape percieves Zuko as an extension of them, and is horrible to him because of it. It doesn't help that Zuko, who has spent his entire life training as a fighter, is gifted in Defense Against the Dark Arts, and so Snape can't easily fail him. Nor does it help that Zuko responds to bullying from adults with all the fear, defensiveness, and aggression he learned when dealing with Zhao and other officers during his banishment. This response to bullies is something Snape should recognize and understand, but as with Harry, he is too blinded by his hatred of his own childhood tormenters to recognize it.

2. The other is Slughorn. Slughorn reminds him of his uncle, but all twisted up. His uncle is short, round, and loves his comforts. He smiles genially around at people, and lets people underestimate him. But his uncle came with him into exile, took care of him, loves him. He has never entirely trusted Uncle Iroh, but he misses him fiercely. And this is perhaps why it hurt so much when Slughorn looked him over and dismissed him as beneath his notice. It doesn't help that much like tea brewing, he struggles with the patience and methodicalness required for potion brewing.

3. Zuko is bad enough that Slughorn mournfully suggests tutoring from a more gifted student. Hermione finds out about this and, rather spitefully, suggests Harry, which Slughorn signs off on, which is how Harry finds himself tutoring another student in potions of all things. When Snape hears, he chokes on his morning pumpkin juice and barely suppresses a hysterical fit. Anyway, Harry makes the brilliant connection that if there as a Half Blood Prince copy of one potions text, there might be one for fifth years as well. He locates it in the potions cupboard and passes it to Zuko.

4. But it's not enough. Harry was always an adequate potion maker, held back by a bullying and secretive teacher. Zuko has no background in any of this. Harry starts teaching the basics, temperature, stirring technique, fire size, and Zuko starts to make progress. This has the knock on effect of Harry realizing he knows more than he thinks about potion making, and beginning to get a feel for how it all works together over and above what he's learning from the Prince. This is also where Harry and Zuko actually start to bond and make friends.

5. Zuko is a young royal with discerning taste, and he can recognize good antiques when he sees them. When he chances on a silver locket with an S on it in Number Twelve Grimmauld place, he shows it to Sirius, who is uninterested, so he pockets it. It lives at the bottom of his school trunk. When, two weeks after arriving at Hogwarts, he stumbles across the Room of Requirement, specifically the Room of Hidden Things, he spots a lovely silver headdress with a sapphire. This joins the locket. There's just something about both these things that makes him feel he should hang onto them.

[nothingeverlost]

The Most Brilliant Idea, or how Sirius Black Accidentally became a Romance Novelist (HP, Wolfstar)

In which Sirius has a Brilliant Idea, Remus is gainfully employed, James is clueless and Lily is always right.

Unmitigated fluff with minor references to the first war, AU because James and Lily didn’t die.

II

It started with the classified, the first bit of proof that everything that happened was really Moony’s fault.  There was always a classified ad in the kitchen, even when Moony was working, part of his optimistic opinion that any job could and would end.  The classified ads were always marked in pen, and one could tell just how Remus thought his prospects fared based on how he’d marked a job.  Some were viciously scratched out (potions expert and anything with ‘night shift’ in the description) some were circled multiple times (he usually came away dejected from those interviews, things he actually wanted but rarely got) some had question marks and some had a single bold circle.  It was the single circle ones that were the best prospects.

On this particular Tuesday morning while Sirius drank his tea and dripped jelly on a story about Minister Fudge’s election, the only ad that was circled was one looking for a book editor.  It was commission work, the sort of things Moony did from home sometimes.  It suited him, both because he was such a stickler for commas and spelling and because the flexibility meant that moons didn’t present a problem. The only downside was that it was sporadic work, a book at a time, and didn’t bring in enough income to make Moony feel like he was Contributing to Household Things.  Sirius always rolled his eyes.  Moony was the most stubborn person he knew.

It was then that he had his Most Brilliant Idea.  What Remus needed was a constant stream of editing.  Someone who would keep him employed on a regular basis with things a lot more interesting than editing a technical manual on the care and keeping of flobberworms.

“Lily I need to borrow some books.”  When someone had a Brilliant Idea they had to start right away, so his first action was to floo to the Potter home.  He was distracted for half an hour by Harry who insisted on a hippogriff ride and a sword fight, and he wouldn’t be a proper godfather if he said no to either, but after that it was strictly business.

“The only books we have here that you don’t have are meant for a three year old.  You and Remus had quite the library between you,” Lily replied after telling both him and Harry they could only have two biscuits.  Sirius took a third, but split it in half so it didn’t count.  After all, two and a half was practically the same as two.

“Not true.  Moony and I don’t have any of those girly books,” he said with his half a biscuit in his mouth.

“You want to borrow my romance novels?” Lily asked, puzzled.  “I don’t know who you’re trying to date, Sirius Black, but romance novels aren’t actually meant to be used that way.”

“Like I need help,” Sirius said with an eye roll.  Sure, it had been a while since he dated but that was totally his choice.  He had a lot on his plate right now with a godson that needed his attention and Moony needing looking after and his three days a week working for Quality Quidditch Supplies.  “They’re for Moony.”

“Somehow I doubt he knows that.”  Lily rolled her eyes right back at him.  “Take as many as you like, and don’t worry about when you get them back.  It’s not like I have much time for reading when I have three boys to look after.”

“Something you want to tell me, Lils?”  He looked at her stomach pointedly and wondered if they were really ready for another Prongslet.

“Yeah.  You and James are more work than Harry and he has the excuse of being three.”  But she gave him a bag for the books and sent him home with a plate of biscuits, warning him that she would tell Remus that she’d sent them so not to eat them all in one go.  It was like she didn’t trust him or something.

Once he had the books stage one of The Plan could begin.  He’d read a few of the romance novels when he was bored and they seemed like the easiest book to write.  Certainly they weren’t anything Moony read so he could borrow a bit from others and no one important would be any the wiser.  Over the next few days he spent most of the time Moony wasn’t around reading, stashing the books in the closet so they wouldn’t be seen in case Remus came in his room for late night chats or early morning bed sharing.  It was a habit that they’d never quite left behind in school, especially when either of them had a nightmare.  With the war almost two years gone the nightmares weren’t as frequent but they were always a good excuse if he needed company.

Stage Two of The Plan had a few false starts, as writing a book proved to be a little trickier than he figured, considering how many books he’d read.  Finally though after twenty-six days he had a story written.  The pining of Sigmund G Toadsnatch for Anastasia Flower ended in a passionate snog and a happily ever after.  It was time for Stage Three.

“I need your help.”  The moment Moony was gone for the day he popped around to the Potter home again, this time with manuscript in hand.

“Harry managed to get jam in his hair at breakfast and I have to give him a bath.  Can it wait?”  Her arms were full of a squirming toddler, anxious to greet his ‘Padfoo.’

“I’ll give him a bath,” he offered.

“The last time that happened you flooded the bathroom and transfigured the soap into a boat.”  She carried Harry up the stairs.  Sirius followed.

“He came out clean, though.  Mostly.”  He might have missed a few spots, but no one was perfect and there had been an important battle with a giant squid that looked a lot like Harry’s toes to wage.  “I need to know if you have any friends that have girly writing and want to earn a few quid.”  He plopped himself on the edge of the tub after stowing his manuscript on higher ground.  

“You need what?”  it was really quite impressive how she managed to run the bath, undress Harry, and listen to him.

“Alright, so this is the part where I have to swear you to absolute secrecy.  Unbreakable vow kind of stuff.  You can’t tell anyone what I am about to tell you, not even James.”

“You know James and I don’t keep secrets.”

“It’s not a big secret, just a little baby one.  The more people who know the more likely it is that Remus will know that people are keeping something from him and then the whole thing will be ruined.”  Besides Prongs would never let him hear the end of it if he knew what Sirius was doing.

“I will consider not telling him, once I know.  That’s the best I can promise.”

“I guess that will have to do.”  He was certain she’d see reason, or more importantly his side of things.  “Now about your friends.”

“Do I even want to know what girly writing means?”

“You know what I mean.  When you pick up something and you know a girl wrote it because there’s little hearts above the I’s and the ink changes color.”  Not that Lily had ever done things like that.  Her writing was perfectly sensible, not that it mattered.  Moony would recognize her handwriting.

“Your handwriting is pretty fancy, with all those loops and the illustrations in the margins.”  Lily made a few loops of her own, sending bubbled cascading into the tub to entertain Harry.

“One of the many skills a pureblood snob is required to learn, according to my dear old mum.  Trust me I’ve tried mimicking James but it’s useless.”  James wrote in a barely legible scrawl that only those with practice could read.  Sirius envied him, though it had led to an accident or two over the years especially in potions and what time they were supposed to meet.  “But it doesn’t matter, Moony knows my handwriting and that’s the whole point.  I need someone to copy over my writing so he doesn’t know it’s me.”

“I think I need more focus and perhaps something to drink.  Hold on a minute, will you?”  Lily finished up Harry’s bath, keeping him long enough to dry his hair but giving up when he decided to squirm out of her hold and run away without his togs on.  She shrugged.  “Won’t hurt him to air dry.”

“James said the same thing once.  It works better in a warm house and when you’re three, rather than when you’re thirteen and it’s snowing out.”  He’d won the dare, though, and claimed it was worth it.

“Yeah, I remember that.  Thought he was mental then.  Now I know he is.”  Lily headed for the kitchen and started a pot of tea brewing.  “Now please tell me you’re not trying to get me to help you prank Remus.  You know my rules.”

“It’s not a prank.  It’s a Brilliant Idea to help Moony.  You’re going to love it.”  He couldn't hold it in anymore.  “I’vewrittenabook.”

“Excuse me?”

“A book.  I’ve written one and I’m going to send it to Moony to edit it, and then I’m going to pay him.  But he’s not going to know it’s me so he’s going to accept the money without being his stubborn prideful self.  When he’s done I’ll have another story ready and then he’ll be gainfully employed and happy and he won’t have to worry about what happens to his job when there’s a moon.  Brilliant, right?”

“I’m still on the bit where you wrote a book.”  Lily poured the tea and set a slice of quiche on a plate for Sirius.  The spinach was in small enough bits that it didn’t actually look like a vegetable and he might not notice that under all the cheese he’d actually eaten something green.

“It’s not hard.  I read the books you had and I wrote something like it.  Boy meets girl.  One of them annoys the other.  There’s secret longing and someone trying to keep them apart and then they snog and everyone’s happy except the evil bloke who ends up in a cellar or something.”  He shrugged and ate the food Lily had given him without much thought.  He’d been so excited about the next stage that he hadn’t bothered with breakfast.  “The book’s not really the important part, though, and there have to be bits to fix or else Moony won’t have anything to do.  What’s important is that Moony doesn’t know it’s me.  I have to rent an owl once it’s ready and send him a letter about a job.  I have a name picked out already.  Marmaduke Gaylord from Gaylord’s Romantic Press.”

“I don’t know why anything you come up with should surprise me anymore, Sirius Black.  It’s completely bonkers and there’s probably fifteen different ways it could go wrong.”  Lily reached across the table and covered one of his hands with her own.  “It’s also unfailingly kind and possibly crazy enough to work.”

“Of course it will work.”  Any doubts he’d had he’d buried down deep enough that he wouldn’t have to worry about them for a while at least.  Probably not until the whole thing exploded in a very Sirius-like fashion.  

As it turned out Lily did have a friend that could use a little spending money and had hand writing that, while not containing any hearts, was feminine enough to satisfy Sirius and more importantly wouldn’t be recognized by Remus.  She rewrote the manuscript in her own handwriting.  Sirius borrowed a typewriter from Arthur Weasley to make an official looking offer from the Gaylord Romance Publishers.

Stage Four was well timed, as Moony’s job in a muggle bookstore ended that week after the third time he’d had to miss work the morning after a full moon with no explanation.  Sirius had made sure he was tucked into bed with a water bottle and a cup of tea with a warming charm that would last at least an hour, then nipped over to Diagon Alley to rent an owl for a single trip.  The offer letter and manuscript were bound together. For an added bit of cleverness he’d asked the clerk to delay the delivery until afternoon so that Sirius could be home when the owl arrived.

“What could be so important about a romance novel that they’d be willing to pay this much?”  By afternoon Moony was feeling well enough to be on the sofa instead of in bed.  Sirius glanced at the letter Remus handed him and shrugged. 

“Dunno, mate.  Guess there’s enough people reading them to make it worth their while.  The girls at school all read them.  Tripped over them all the time in the common room.”

“They’d be better off reading Austen,” Remus groused but he was also quick enough to send off an acceptance letter with the owl.  Sirius had a plan for that as well, and a newly rented owl post box.

“I’ll give you some quiet to work.”  Sirius locked himself in his room, using the time to start his second novel, the story of five sisters all sorted into the same house  and the rich pureblood transfer student who seemed rude but was secretly shy.  The prat’s best friend was cheerful and had a crush on the main character’s sister.

“Comma,” was the comment he heard the most from the other room.  ‘Why’ and ‘bloody hell’ and ‘you can’t do that to the English language’ were also common exclamations.

“Sounds like it’s going well,” Sirius said when his stomach was too loud to ignore.  

“It’s the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever read and the romance is dreadful but there are some bits that are hilarious, actually.  Don’t know their goal but as a satire it’s not bad.”  The stack of papers in front of him was all marked up in red ink worse than the first essay he’d ever written for McGonagall.

“I thought romances were supposed to be all sappy.”  His main character had declared his love seventeen times.  That was what girls wanted, wasn’t it?

“Fortunately I’m only supposed to edit the grammar and not the sap.  I’m over my head on that sort of thing.  Imelda Carson seventh year said I was the most unromantic boy she’d even snogged.”

“Imelda Carson is an idiot who is now breeding pink pygmy puffs and is completely single because no bloke was romantic enough for her.  Besides you don’t like girls, remember?”

“I like girls just fine.  I just don’t want to snog any of them or…”

“Smash your bits together?”  Sirius offered.

“Yeah, exactly what I was going to say,” Remus said dryly.  “I’m starved and close to going cross eyed from this editing.  Whose turn for dinner?”

“I’ll start some steaks.”  Sirius danced towards the kitchen.  The Plan was going perfectly.

II

It seemed silly, really, to have a wonderfully written and perfectly edited novel and not do anything with it.  The original plan didn’t take into account anything outside of making sure that Remus was employed, but when Sirius collected the edited manuscript from the owl post it seemed a waste to just throw it away or lock it up somewhere.

“I need a name.”  It was just before lunch when he flooed to Godric Hollow, finding Harry just up from his nap and more than excited to use uncle Padfoot as a climbing toy.  

“You know some people do give a little notice instead of barging in all the time.  There’s a lovely front door on this house I don’t think you’ve seen in two years.”  Lily winced when Harry’s foot found a foothold on Sirius’s crotch, but really the man deserved it.

“Other people aren’t nearly as entertaining as me.”  Sirius winced as well and moved Harry’s foot a little higher, regretting it when the lad’s next handhold was his ear.  “Now about that nom de plume.”

“I thought you were only writing so Remus could have an editing job?”

“Yes, but that’s no reason not to share my genius with the world.”  He waved his manuscript over his head.  

“How many times did Remus threaten to throw up while reading this drivel?”

“Only once but he edited that bit out.  Not even I can be perfect my first time out.”  Lily, of course, rolled her eyes for approximately the 42,596th time since she’d first met Sirius.

“If you’re serious about this we should do it properly.  No more ridiculous names.”

“I’m always Sirius.”  He couldn’t resist.  After all the joke never got old, no matter how many times Lily groaned.  “Too bad I can’t use my name.  Imagine how dear old mum would roll over in her grave if she knew the sacred Black name was attached to a romance novel.”

“Sirius.”

“You’re right, Lils.  If she got too excited she might reanimate and the world is not ready for zombie Walburga.”  He shuddered dramatically at the thought, making Harry, now perched on his shoulders, laugh and say ‘again.’  Of course he obliged.

“Leave it with me and I’ll sort it out.  I’ll have Molly redo a clean copy and send it off to Mary who’s a junior editor and a publisher.  We’ll see what happens, alright?”

“This is why I love you, Red.”  Sirius gave her a kiss on the cheek and handed her the manuscript so he could get down to what was really important; teaching his godson how to make bubbles in his milk.

II

Three months later Phaedra White was a published author.  Sure, there wasn’t an enormous amount of money in a single book, but it was more than what he’d spent to pay Molly and Remus so it seemed profitable enough, and he was more excited than he’d expected to see it on the shelves of the bookstore..

In the next year ‘Phaedra’ wrote nine more books.  More importantly with actual connections in the publishing world he was able to recommend Moony’s services to other authors, to the point that he began to worry that if Remus had too much work he might turn down the requests from Marmaduke Gaylord to edit Phaedra’s books.

“Get the bucket, Pads, I’m going to be ill.  This is the worst thing I've ever read.  Not only do I want to vomit but I think my eyes are bleeding.”

“It can’t be that bad.”  His own book had arrived that morning but Sirius hadn’t known that Remus had started on it already.

“I don’t know how Gilderoy Lockheart got my name but I’m never editing a book for him again.  Not only is it nonsense that clearly didn’t actually happen, but it’s badly written as well.”  It was hard to tell from Moony’s tone what offended him more, but it was probably the bad writing.

“Wasn’t there a Lockheart a few years behind us in school?  A gormless little thing that spent more time on his hair than anything else?”  They didn’t usually pay much attention to Ravenclaws, but if he remembered correctly the boy had annoyed them enough that they’d pranked his hair blue once.

“That’s the one.  What he knows about defense against the Dark Arts would fit in my little finger.”  Remus pushed the manuscript away.  “I can’t even look at this again until I have some chocolate.”

“I picked up a new stock from Honeydukes when I was at Diagon.”  Rule number one for the care and keeping of your Moony was to always have a supply of chocolate on hand.  “Why don’t you grab a bar and we’ll go out for a walk.  It’s beautiful outside.”

“What would I do without you, Pads?  Why don’t we pick up some curry while we’re out, my treat?”  It was a plan, and they left the house shoulder to shoulder.  Later that evening after he’d eaten Remus returned to his work.  Sirius found him laughing, his shoulders relaxed, and not a single bucket around.

“Back at the Lockheart?”  he asked.

“No, I’ve given myself a respite and picked up the latest White novel.  You know this bloke is improving.  It’s really kind of nice to see the balance of romance and friendship in here.  Less sap and more affectionate teasing.”

“I thought that romance writer you edit for was a woman?”  Sirius held his breath for a moment.  Did Moony Know?  He couldn’t possibly.  

“I’m sure that’s what they want people to think, probably because most romance novels are written by women and I’d imagine they sell better.  But I’m practically certain this is a bloke writing this.  If the book centered around a flying motorcycle didn’t tip me off, the fact that the details about female anatomy are more vague than the male anatomy seems quite a clue.”  Remus shrugged.  “I don’t suppose it really matters, though.”

“No, I don’t suppose it does,” Sirius agreed.

II

“I need help.”  The next morning Sirius showed up at the Potter house in the middle of breakfast, not knowing what time it was.  James was still home, which was not the most favorable thing that could have happened.

“Help with what?” Prongs asked as he broke a banana into pieces for Harry.

“Nothing at all,” Sirius lied.  “Just a question for Lils about a girl thing.”

“Dating someone you haven’t mentioned to us yet?”  James cocked his head to the side.  “It’s been a while since you’ve mentioned anyone.”

“Yeah, well it gets to be all the same after a while, doesn’t it?”  Truth was he hadn’t had a date in ages.  His free time was taken up with writing, and the rest of the time he was with Remus, or Prongs and his family or both.  Lily had them over to dinner once a week at least, somehow thinking they couldn't take care of themselves properly.  His social life worked out pretty well, except for the lack of shagging.  He did miss that sometimes, but not enough to bother with finding a date.

“Not when you marry the love of your life and the most perfect person in the world.”  James, of course, couldn’t help looking at his wife.  Sirius was torn between wanting to gag and feeling a tight ball in the pit of his stomach that he’d never felt before.

“It’s been six years since you married her, Prongs.  You are going to be a little less sappy at some point, aren’t you?”  Of course considering how close they’d come to losing each other it was understandable.  And Sirius was happy for them, but as a sibling it was his job to raz James as much as possible.

“If you don’t like it you do know where the fireplace is, Sirius.”  Lily was careful when she stood up, her belly now heavily swollen.  Potter number four was due in less than a month.  “Come on, you can wash up dishes for me while you tell me what you need.”

Dutifully he followed her, ignoring Prongs’ questioning look.  When the water was running he looked around to make sure they weren’t followed.  “I need to know more about girls.”

“Excuse me?”

“Moony’s figured out that Phaedra White is a bloke.  Says there’s not much detail about women’s bits and things in there and that it sounds more like a bloke or something.  I don’t know.  My first thought was that I could use some polyjuice and spend an hour as a woman but that’s a month of work just to make the potion plus it tastes disgusting.”

“I’m not going to ask why you know what polyjuice tastes like.  I don’t want to know who you were or when or if my husband was involved.”  Lily rubbed her stomach absently.  “Your books are selling surprisingly well, I wouldn’t change things now.  Besides you should know at least the basics about women.”

“I know that their breasts are nice and soft, most of them like to snog, and redheads have very good aim.”  Or maybe it was just one specific redhead, who proved his point by throwing a spoon at the back of his head.

“Obviously rumors at school had to be taken with quite a few grains of salt and I know some girls exaggerated because it was good for their reputations for it to be known that they snogged the ‘great’ Sirius Black”  Lily’s voice was dripping with sarcasm and she stuck out her tongue for good measure.  “But you did date a fair bit, and I myself witnessed at least some snogging.  Are you saying you never…”

“Did the no pants dance?  Nah, girls are nice for kissing and easier for dating but for the whole naked tango I prefer a blokes ‘bits.’”  

“Huh.  I was dead certain about you and that Hufflepuff in sixth year.”  Lily shook her head, bemused.  It wasn’t like Sirius had ever hidden the fact that he liked boys as well as girls.  “But if you’re here to ask me about my ‘bits’ that’s where I draw the line.  We’re close, Sirius, but not that close.”

“You are the best sister a bloke could ever hope for, Lil my love, and as such that is a completely disgusting idea that I would never suggest.  I was thinking you might have a friend.”

“I am not pimping out my friends to you, brother dear.”

“You try to set up Remus sometimes.”  And somehow each time Remus came down sick and couldn’t come to dinner.  

“I worry about Remus being alone.  Do you know when he last went on a date?”

“Sometimes in the seventies, probably, and he’s not alone, he has me.  What could be less lonely then having me as a roommate?”  Other than a bit of time during the war he and Remus had lived together since leaving Hogwarts.  It worked well for them both, and honestly the idea of Remus dating made his left shoulder blade go all tense.  They took turns making dinner and washing up, cleaned the flat together on Mondays and read out bits of their books to each other as they shared a sofa in the evening.  If Remus was spending his time with someone else there would be less of the enigmatic little half smile that made his day better.  And at some point Moony would have to share his furry little secret and what if they took it badly and hurt him?  Or worse, spread it about?  Sirius would have to kill them and then he’d go to Azkaban and then Remus really would be alone.  It would be a disaster.

“Sirius have you ever considered…”  Lily stopped, wincing a little and struggling to pull herself up.  “This little one has great aim and likes to kick mummy’s bladder.  You’ll have to excuse us, Sirius.  And find your own dates.”

II

He did find his own dates.  Three of them, in the next month, and twice with the girl from the local coffee shop.  And though the snogging was nice he just couldn’t get interested enough in taking it farther, not even in the name of research.  Sighing he decided he was just going to have to keep doing what he was doing.  Besides, having Moony suspect that a romance novelist was a man was a far sight from having him suspect that it was the man he lived with so he was still safe enough.  After all who in their right mind would think that Sirius Black was writing romance novels?

When he got home from his last date he found a note stuck to his door in Moony’s careful hand.  The word ‘St Mungo’s’ might have worried him if not for the ‘Baby Potter on the way’ underneath.  He took a minute to change into something more comfortable, remembering that Harry had taken hours to arrive, and apparated to the maternity ward.

“You brought work with you?”  Remus was already there, sitting in the waiting room with a quill in one hand and a stack of pages on his lap.

“You know how long Harry took to make an appearance.  Might as well pass the time in a useful manner.”  Remus looked up at him, head cocked to the side.  “How was the date?”

“Bit boring, to be honest.  I think I’m out of practice.”  Dating used to be more interesting, but halfway through he’d found himself wishing that he was on the sofa throwing popcorn at Remus and asking about his latest book.  The editing of the Lockhart book and its ridiculous lies was keeping him well entertained.  “Speaking of the sprog, where is my favorite godson?”

“Lily’s friend Molly has him.  The one will all the redhead kids, you remember?”

“Yeah.”  Molly happened to be the friend that rewrote everything he wrote.  No reason for that to make him nervous, though.  “She was Gid and Fab’s big sister.”

“Yeah, she was.”  It was never easy to think of the casualties of the war so Sirius tried not to think of them, not even the ones with hair and hearts like fire who he’d shagged once.  Gideon had been one of his first crushes in school, and a compatriot in war.

“What are we working on tonight?”  Sirius tried to take a look at his papers.  “Anything good?”

“Something very frustrating, at the moment.  The latest Phaedra White.”

“I thought you said her books were getting better.  Seemed to me you quite enjoyed the last one.”  He took great pride in the fact that he’d made Moony laugh more than once, and that it came back with hardly any notes other than the usual missing commas and split infinitives.  The ending, Moony had declared, was only as sappy as was  necessary for that sort of story and not bad at all.

“It’s stupid.  I’m just the editor, there’s no reason for the direction of the plot to bother me so much.”  Sighing, Remus put the quill down.  

“I’m sure the author is grateful for your notes.  You said she’s listened to them before, hasn’t she?”  Of course he knew the answer.   He’d written three thank you notes for changes the Remus had suggested, and every time Remus had been right.  Merlin’s pants, Phaedra White was actually making best seller lists and had been mentioned in Witches Weekly twice, and Sirius wasn’t too full of himself to know how big a part Moony played in that.  His publisher was trying to make him do a book signing at Flourish and Blotts, and didn’t understand why he kept saying no to the publicity.  

“This isn’t the same situation.  It’s not a small change to a scene, it’s the whole romance that feels wrong.”

“You read me a bit the other night, between the bloke and his best mate that made you laugh.”  He’d found the byplay between his main character and his friend to be the most fun part of the book to write.

“That’s the whole problem.  Byron and George have this great relationship.  The scene where George is trying to convince Byron to go on the date feels almost like…”

“Like what?”  There were times that Sirius totally wished he could talk through scenes with Remus while he was writing.  He’d had to bite his tongue more than once when he remembered that he hadn’t sent a story to Moony to edit yet.

“Like he was trying to cover his own feelings for his friend.  The chemistry between the two blokes is more natural and interesting then the bits with Byron and Melody.”  Remus picked up his quill again.  “Now you see why I can’t write that suggestion. I’m not about to tell someone to trash half their story and turn it into a gay romance.”

“Moony, w-”

“She’s here.”  The door to the waiting room crashed open and Prongs came running out, tripping over his feet in his hurry.  “I’m a dad.”

“You’ve been a dad for almost five years, Prongs,” Sirius couldn’t help but tease him.  

“But never to a girl.”  It was funny how big Prongs’ eyes could get.  “Merlin’s elbow, I have a daughter.”

“Most of the bits are the same, mate.  You’ll be alright.”  Remus shoved his papers and quill into a bag and took out a flask.  “I think this calls for a drink.  Not too much, or Lily will kill us all, but just to celebrate.”

“You think of everything, Moons.”  Sirius shouldn’t have been surprised, it was very like Remus, but there was something about drinking out of the flask immediately after Moony’s lips had touched it that felt different.

“You’re brilliant, both of you.  In a minute we can all go in and you can meet my daughter.”

“Poor Lils, she’s got three kids on her hands now.”  Sirius pointed to the dopey looking expression on Prongs’ face.

“I think you mean four kid, Pads.  After all she has to deal with you as well.”

II

“Her name is Olivia Marlene.”  Lily had that exhausted but happy glow of a new mother when they were let in to see her.  The baby she held looked pretty much the same as Harry the first time they’d seen him, the dark hair on the top of her head and the splotchy looking face.  

“It’s a good name.  Strong.”  Moony nodded solemnly.  “Marlene would have been proud.”

“Marlene would have rolled her eyes and called me daff,” Lily said with only a hint of moisture in her own eyes.  “But if my daughter is half as fierce she’ll be able to do anything.”

“Moony, ready to say hello?”  James took his daughter from Lily and held her close to his chest.

“Let Sirius go first, I’ll hold her in a minute.”  Sirius had been the first five years ago, when Harry had been born.

“Sirius will have his turn but it should be her godfather first, Remus.”  When Lily spoke Sirius had the good fortune to be looking at Remus.  The look on his face and the way his knees buckled were priceless.

“Alright there mate?”  Sirius caught him around the waist and helped him to stand up again.  “Welcome to the club, by the way.”

“So will you, Moony?” James looked at him expectantly.

“I think you’re mental to ask me.”  But Remus carefully took the baby and held her, touching her cheek with a single finger.  Sirius felt for a moment like he’s turned into liquid marshmallow, watching the two of them.

“Welcome to the world, Olivia Potter,” Remus said softly.

It was in that moment that Sirius Black, author of almost seventeen romance novels, realized that he was in love with his best friend.

II

“I’m afraid I’m going to have to leave the country.”  Somehow Sirius made it through the next week.  He wasn’t sure how but it seemed only fair to give Lily a bit of recovery time before bothering her.  A week was as long as he could wait, though, and on the eighth day he flooed over.  

“That’s a bit of a dramatic reaction to not being chosen as godfather for our Olivia.”  

“What?  No, of course you should have gone with Moony.  Brilliant choice.  Probably should have picked him for Harry, bit of an unfair advantage Olivia has.”  Sirius flopped down on the armchair across from Lily.  “Where are the sprogs, by the way?”

“Baby’s sleeping.  Harry and James are at the park so Harry can run off some energy.”

“Prongs is probably the one that needs to run off the energy.  He’s walking on clouds, that one.  Reminds me of the week after you finally said yes to a date.”  Sirius was pretty sure James hadn’t slept for two days straight.  For a week he also hadn’t shut up, even when he did finally sleep.  He’d been well stuck on Lily long before they’d dated.  Sirius finally had an idea of what that was like.

“Probably.  Now tell me what you’re running from.”  Lily put on her best getting-ready-to-mock-you expression.

“Nothing really, only the most stupid thing I’ve probably ever done.”

“I’ve seen some of the stupidest things you’ve done, Sirius.  Many of them.  Unless you’re going to tell me you have to flee the country because aurors are after you I very much doubt it’s as bad as you think.”

“I’vefalleninlovewithMoony.”

“I’m going to need you to actually take a breath at some point, sweetie.  You’re going to turn purple if you don’t and then I’m going to have to explain to James and Harry why you’ve passed out on the floor.”  Lily patted the empty seat on the sofa next to her.  “Now come over here, take a breath, and tell me again what you said.”

Sirius, erring on the side of caution, took three breaths, decided that wasn’t enough, and took three more.  “I’ve fallen in love with Moony.”

“Now there, wasn’t that easier to say the second time?”

“You knew perfectly well what I said.”  Sirius narrowed his eyes.  “You tricked me.”

“Only for your own good.”  She leaned in and wrapped her arms around him.  “I know this bit is scary but you’re going to get through it and you’re going to do it without fleeing the country.”

“Didn’t you hear what I said?”  Maybe having a baby did something odd to your ears.  

“You’ve finally figured out that you’re in love with Remus.”

“Finally?”  Sirius stared at her.  

“Finally,” she confirmed.  “Other than this month because of your crazy idea about your books, when was the last time you dated?”

“Dunno.  That carpenter maybe?”  Sirius had wanted to find out just what else he could do with his hands.  The answer was quite a bit.  Unfortunately not so much in the brain department and even less in the sense of humor department.

“That was three years ago.  What is Remus’s favorite dinner?”

“Steak with mashed potatoes and lots of gravy, popovers, peas.”  It was a meal he liked to make a day or two before a full moon when Moony was feeling a bit low.

“And for dessert?”

“Chocolate, of course.  I found a chocolate fondant recipe the other day I thought I might try.”  Moony was happy to have a chocolate bar but Sirius liked to find new desserts to try.  Moony was always pleased when there was a new dessert.

“Who is the first person you see on Christmas morning and whose present do you spend the most time picking out?”

“Moony, of course.  We live together.”  Last year Moony had put a ridiculous ten galleon restriction on gifts, insisting he didn’t need anything extravagant.  His silly Moony hadn’t thought to specify that it was only a single gift, though.  Sirius had brought thirteen, but they were all under ten galleons each.

“And when you’ve had a really shitty day who is the first person you seek out?”

“Moony.”

“And when something wonderful happens who is the first person you want to tell?”

“Moony.”

“Are we seeing a pattern yet?  And before you tell me it’s just being friends let me remind you that you have created a whole career for yourself solely because you wanted to make sure that Remus had work that he could take pride in.  The entire existence of Phaedra White is basically one really long love letter, which is a bit over the top even for you.”

“I’ve been in love with Moony this whole time?”  It didn’t feel wrong when he said it.  Maybe later he’d be able to look back and figure out when exactly it all started, but for now it seemed to be enough that it was true.  “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“You were always going to figure it out in your own time.  I couldn’t make you go any faster and risk it not happening at all.”  Lily kissed his cheek.  “If I’d said yes to James in third or fourth year maybe we would still be where we are.  Or maybe I would have written him off as a ponce and I wouldn’t have him or my babies.  Things happen when they’re right, and you can’t rush them.  Or run away from them.”

“What if he doesn’t feel the same?”  Remus rarely dated and never said anything about marriage.  “What if I ruin everything?”

“What if he does?  I don’t have the answer.  I think you have to trust Remus and yourself enough to give him a chance to hear how you feel.”

“And if I fuck it all up?”

“Your friendship has survived war and betrayals and pranks gone horribly wrong, as well as seven years of sharing a dorm and about as long sharing a flat.  I don’t think it’s going to fall under the weight of loving him.”

“You better be right, Lily Potter.  If you’re not I’m going to be crashing on this sofa after I flee the flat in embarrassment, and I shed.”

II

Talking to Moony, of course, was a far too direct and logical choice.  It took an hour for Sirius to decide that no, that just wouldn’t do.

“You alright, Pads?” Remus asked when he spent the second hour after he returned home pacing.

“Just thinking about Christmas,” he answered distractedly.

“It’s May, I think you have some time before you need to worry.”  Remus caught his hand as he walked past.  “You look like you have one of your headaches.  Why don’t you sit down and I’ll give you a massage?  Or I could read something to you?”

“No books.”  Books are what had gotten him into the whole mess in the first part.  How could he tell Moony how he felt without also confessing the whole story of Phaedra White?  Why had he never considered that at some point Moony would have to know about The Brilliant Idea?  “I think I might just go to bed.”

“I’ll bring you some tea, it will help you sleep better.”  True to his word Remus showed up ten minutes later with a cup of tea, cream in first and half a spoon of sugar, just the way he liked.  He’d valiantly tried to fall asleep in those ten minutes, but had failed completely and sat up to accept the tea.  

“Thank you.”

“You know you can tell me if something is bothering you, right?”

“There’s no one in the world I trust more than you,” Sirius said honestly.  The tea was too hot still but he sipped it anyway, knowing he’d either burn the tip of his tongue or the roof of his mouth but not caring.  

“It’s a bit odd, isn’t it, Prongs and Lily having two kids now?  They’re well and truly settled, like proper adults.  Might make someone think about it a bit, wonder if they’re wanting something different.”  Remus settled on the edge of the bed, looking up at the ceiling as if he could see the stars overhead.

“Do you think about something different?  Finding your someone and settling down with a couple of sprogs?”  

“Merlin no.  That sort of life’s never been for me, even if I could find someone who wasn’t put off by my special little problem.  Besides I like things the way they are.  You know how much I loved marking up papers with red ink in school and I get to add commas and edit dangling participles to my heart’s content now, with the added bonus of actually making a proper amount of money.  And I couldn’t possibly ever be lonely or bored with you around.  If I want to play with a kid I just have to pop over to see Prongs and Lily.  Seems to me being a godfather is like the best bits of being a parent without all the rest.”  Remus shrugged and looked sideways at Sirius.  “I always figured you’d follow James’ example at some point.”

“I would have had to start developing a crush more than a decade ago, wouldn’t I, to really emulate Prongs?”  It made him stop and wonder for a moment, tea slopping over his chin as he stopped halfway to his mouth.  Just when had he started falling in love with Moony?  Maybe he was more like Prongs then he thought, with less of the whinging.  He couldn’t remember a time when making Moony smile hadn't been a priority, or when Moony touching him hadn’t been a comfort.

“Not like that, of course.  I mean the whole home hearth and family sort of thing, and making me a godfather.”

“I like my family just the way it is.”  It was a little too close to the truth, and Sirius faked a yawn.  “Night Moony.”

“Night Padfoot.  Sleep well.”  Despite being the first to say goodnight, Sirius was a little dismayed that Moony actually left his room.

II

The next day Sirius stopped by to pick up his post, finding a rather sizable cheque, yet another request for a book signing, and the edited return of his most recent book.  Remus must have mailed it when he’d been with Lily.  Flipping through the pages he found the usual red marks adding commas and rearranging the occasional unclear sentence structure, but nothing about the plot of the novel.  He hadn’t made any of the suggestions that he’d mentioned at the hospital.

Sirius took the book home and read through the story again.  Remus was right.  The supposed romance of the story felt flat and predictable when compared to the banter between the best friends, and George was clearly nurturing a crush on his friend.  He only wanted Byron to be with Melody because he thought it was what his friend wanted.  It was a mess.  Sirius was a mess too, but at the moment it was a lot easier to fix things for Byron and George.  All he had to do was cut half the book and rework the rest to make sure two best friends realized that they were actually in love.

When he was done he sent it off to Molly with a bonus payment and a warning that he might not be needing her help anymore.  She sent it back three days later with a cheerful little note letting him know that her twins kept her quite busy and while it had been fun to read his stories first she was fine with the change in things.  Also it was her favorite story yet.

“I need to borrow my godson.”  The day after he sent the manuscript back to Remus for editing he left the house early in the morning.  He couldn’t bear to be around when Moony saw it for the first time.  Better to let him read it and get it all over and done with at once, no matter what way it came out.

“You’re not back on the fleeing the country plan, are you?  Because you can’t take Harry to Spain.”  Lily raised one eyebrow.

“Why would Sirius flee the country?”  James held his daughter but stared at Sirius in confusion.  “You didn’t actually break into your cousin’s vault at Gringotts, did you?”

“I decided anything Narcissa owned would probably have cooties.  Not worth the risk.”  Sirius shrugged.  “I won’t even take him out of the county, Lils.  I promise.”

“Pads?  Lily?” James pushed, not having a clue what was happening but suspecting that his wife knew a fair bit more.

“Not now, Prongs.  I’ll tell you tomorrow if the world doesn’t crash around my ears today.”  

Lily, fortunately, said yes and Sirius was able to mostly distract himself with a trip to the zoo and far more ice cream than an almost five year old and a twenty-five year old should eat.  He returned Harry in time for tea but warned Lily that he probably wasn’t very hungry.

“I’m proud of you,” Lily said before he left, kissing his cheek.

“I’d probably be proud of you too if I knew what the bloody hell was going on,” Prongs added, kissing his other cheek.  Sirius said thank you to them both, decided against the floo, and apparated home.  He sat on the front stoop for half an hour before daring to open the door.  The flat was completely silent.  

“Moony?”  Maybe he wasn’t at home.  Maybe he hadn’t gotten the package or had been too busy to read it today.  Maybe he had read it and had run for the hills.  Maybe he hated it and hated Sirius and was in his room packing for a trip to Zanzibar.  For a minute he worried that Moony really was gone because the flat, even Moony’s room, were empty.  The last place to check was what they grandly called the balcony, which was really just a fire escape with a upside down rusty cauldron as a seat and a single pot with a dittany plant they barely kept alive.  Moony sat with his back to the wall, looking out at the view.  They were lucky enough to be on the side of the building that looked out over a park rather than another building.

“Hey.”  He settled on the sill of the open window, which was the only other place to sit but also meant that Remus couldn’t go anywhere without stepping over him, which could come in handy.  “How was your day?”

“I read a book.”  Moony didn’t look at him.  Sirius couldn’t tell what he was thinking at all, other than that he looked like he should be smoking.  They’d both given it up when Harry was born, though, and that went double now that Oliva had come along.

“Yeah?”  He took a deep breath and waited.

“Yeah.  I thought it was weird, at first.  It’s the same Phaedra White book I just edited, and I thought it was a mistake until I got through the first couple of chapters and it’s been completely rewritten.  I didn’t say anything about the story to anyone, other than you, but it was like they looked inside my head and saw how I wished the story had been written.  George was so certain that Byron was going to propose to his girl but instead there’s this scene, this magical scene where Byron says that he couldn’t fall for Melody because he was already in love.  That it had been George all along.  Sometimes your best mate is also the love of your life.”  Remus was still staring down at the park and Sirius wanted to shake him, or beg him to turn his head, or just kiss him and take his chances that Moony wouldn’t throw him over the side of the balcony.  

“Do you think that’s true?” he asked.  “Even when the best mate is a complete disaster who might be keeping a secret or two, but only because they want their best friend to be happy and not have to worry about anything?”

“Do I think that Byron and George are in love?”  When he finally turned, Moony had a perfectly inscrutable expression on his face, the one he used in school that let him tell McGonagall that he didn’t know anything about a prank that had in fact been his brainchild.  When he used it on anyone else it made Sirius smile.  Facing it himself was agonizing.

“Do you believe that sometimes your best mate can also be the love of your life?”  He’d channeled everything he felt and thought into Byron.  Remus set a great store in books and the written word, and Sirius hoped that maybe works written in black and white would make his argument for him.

“I think the hardest thing to believe is that I could possibly be that extraordinarily lucky.”  With the blink of his eye Sirius could see all the vulnerability Moony had been hiding.  The hope and the fear, the trust and the love.  The love he saw there knocked the breath out of him.

“Merlin, I think you just scared five years off my life, you were that hard to read.”  He pulled himself through the window and squatted in front of Remus.  “Do you really think you could love me?”

“You deserve to be scared, you bloody git.  You had me secretly editing books you wrote and somehow you became an author for the lark of it.”  Remus rubbed his forehead, like he did when something was puzzling him or the writing of something was particularly confusing.  “I’ve been in love with you for ages, Pads, and I find there’s generally very little thinking involved.  It’s a simple fact.”

“I don’t think there’s anything simple about it.”  Sirius Black was the author of seventeen and a half books, and it seemed to him there was only one possible option for what came next.  He kissed Moony, of course.  Kissed him like Byron had kissed George, like Psych had once kissed Cupid and Darcy had kissed Elizabeth.  The kiss had been brewing up inside him for some time and he did not stop until the air was gone from his lungs.  And then he said the words that he planned on repeating every day for the rest of his life.  “I love you Moony.”

“I love you too, Phaedra White.”

Sirius groaned, and laughed, and kissed his Moony all over again.  It was Absolutely Brilliant.

[mlkincaidbooks]

🐲NEW STORY: Counting the Stars🐲

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw him standing straight. He folded his arms over his narrow chest again. His eyes bored into the side of her face as he let out a mirthless, incredulous laugh.

“Your cheekiness never ceases to amaze me, Granger,” he said. “You do realize that for all intents and purposes, you belong to me? If you step outside the wards, outside the gates or the boundaries of our property, the first thing you’ll see is the end of a Death Eater’s wand. All you need to do is make my mother’s medicine, stay out of trouble, and keep from getting on my nerves. You’re failing at one. Care to guess which it is?”

Hermione gritted her teeth. He was annoyed with her for moving around his potions lab like it belonged to her, yet he never told her explicitly not to. It seemed as though he let her think it was allowed, just so he could complain about it later.

“Well, blimey,” she said, trying to replicate his trademark sarcasm. “You might as well just make me your Muggle-born slave. At least then, you can keep me from irritating you.”

“Maybe I should.” He stepped closer, until her shoulder brushed against his abdomen in her seated position on the stool. “After all, I saved you from a much, much worse fate. One that awaits you in Buckingham Palace with the Dark Lord. He looked for you for five years, you know.”

She raised her eyebrows, but did not look up from her task. “Then perhaps you should get me a collar.”

There was a second - just a second - where she honestly thought he was going to grab her. He’d never done any such thing, but she wasn’t naive. She knew what her place was. If she wasn’t as skilled in brewing as she was, Draco would have turned her in the moment he spotted her in Paris. The fact that the Malfoy family was essentially protecting her from their king was proof enough that she owed them her life. It was proof that she had no power or say in anything regarding her life anymore.

She wasn’t sure she ever did.

“Don’t tempt me,” he hissed into her ear.

XXX

LINKS: HoneySweetWriting.com

https://www.fanfiction.net/s/13579310/1/

https://archiveofourown.org/works/24093880/chapters/57994522

XXX

This is the official rewrite of my story, Home.

Rating: M

Summary: VOLDEMORT WINS AU. [dark] It's been five years since Harry Potter died. Narcissa Malfoy lies in a magical coma, and the only person who has the means to help her is Hermione Granger. Draco Malfoy finds her and brings her to the Manor, where she discovers that he has a secret that turns out to be more beautiful than they could have imagined. As the Dark Lord draws closer to an ancient power, Hermione will learn to fight when there's no one left to fight for. Here, there be dragons.

Tags: dragons, marriage ritual, enemies to friends to enemies to lovers, master/slave dynamics, trigger warnings apply

[januarywren]

Hi if you don’t mind can I request a Snamione fic where he witness hermione’s mental breakdown upon knowing the death of her parents? Hehehe we are going angst today!

EEEEP, I’m really sorry - I’ve been feeling awful the past week, and I mixed up your prompt!! I thought that you wanted a sevmione scene about Hermione Obliviating her parents, not their death. 

The fic that I wrote is an Epilogue AU and takes place ten years after Voldemort’s death, but I’m sorry for the mix-up!! If I have time, I’ll write something that fits your prompt entirely. I’m posting the fic below, as well as linking it here! I appreciate you sending in a request, and I’m sorry again. 

-

“Hermione – “

It had been weeks of silence, with his lover hiding away in their rooms. There was more to the former golden girl of Gryffindor than anyone knew, and Severus watched, and he worried, as her cheeks grew pale and her words became fewer and fewer.

He felt the distance growing between them, even at night when he wrapped his arms around her, and she nestled close against his chest. Sleep was beyond them, yet they enjoyed the intimacy of it still – at least they had until she'd turned from him.

(Why? What had he done?)

“Trust me,” Severus ached to say. “Please, Hermione, let me in again.”

But he didn’t.

Couldn’t.

For underneath it all, Severus knew that he was a coward still, regardless of his duplicitous role at the Dark Lord’s side. The Ministry had given him a medal – a scrap of worthless tin – as if that could make his hands clean again.

He’d witnessed horrific things, things beyond anyone witch or wizard’s imagination, aside from Voldemort himself, and perhaps, Dumbledore. The later was hailed as the guiding mentor of the wizarding world, but above all others, Severus knew his true nature: Dumbledore willingly accepted what others would have cringed at, as long as it would aid his efforts during the war.

It was right, and it was wrong, and Severus –

He wanted little part of it.

His own Change was because of the Dark Lord after Voldemort explored the nature of vampires. Severus acted as his servant and was changed first – he'd burned in agony for days until his heart stilled, and he burned anew, his throat aching with thirst. He was a creature without morals, or limits, and had slaughtered as other Death Eaters had, and was privy to horrors that only those closest to the Dark Lord were allowed. There were so many innocents that suffered, regardless of their bloodline or their nature -

He never raised a finger to stop them, nor spared the unfortunate a single word, and he knew that he would burn for it –

Something that Hermione knew as well, for he’d wept in her arms, and confessed his sins to her. The world would never know the weight of his heart nor the true workings of his soul, but she alone would always know.

“Don’t.”

Severus flinched as his lover turned away from him, his heart thudding inside his chest. "It's over then?" he asked, forcing himself to swallow nausea that rose in his throat.

He’d always known he wasn’t good enough for Hermione, the same way he wasn’t good enough for Lily. (What had he told Hermione at the start of their relationship? “I’m less of a man than I am a creature, Hermione”? It was an understatement by far.)

And yet, Hermione had stayed by his side, freely and wholly of her own will. She’d accepted him when his nature became clear; his fangs grazing her wrist when he kissed her there, and his dark eyes had bored into hers. Her blood was ambrosia on his tongue, her nature as enthralling as a siren’s call.

And when they had reached the point of no return, she had done more than accept him –

She’d chosen him, as her Sire.

Her Mate.

They knew each other as no one else did, as they brewed countless potions together, in their little nest that was hidden from the world. They lived in muggle London, a place where they could live as they wished, and where no one noticed if a petty criminal or two went missing. (In fact, their formerly crime-ridden neighborhood was grateful for the dramatic reduction in crime, as stolen items were returned, and doors were left unlocked once more.)

He withdrew from her, as his familiar friend, anger, found him once again. “Have you realized what I am?” Severus asked, “A foul creature, a sniveling beast – “

It was easy to slip into his former skin, as the greasy-haired and embittered potions master. He knew what the students thought of him and remembered how the staff had avoided him. He reveled in their distance, as it fueled his bitterness; something he had ceased to feel in his life with Hermione. But he was weak then, and exposed, and wanted to hide away where she wouldn't see how he lived for her.

If she left him –

No, Severus thought grimly. When she left him, he would be the creature the world knew before, the one who snapped and snarled without remorse. He wasn’t meant to have others near, he was his father’s heir.

“Stop it,” Hermione said, closing the space between them.

“Why should I, Ms. Granger – “Severus sneered, stilling as her hand rose to cup his cheek.

"Severus," Hermione said as if his name meant something to her still. "This – this isn't about you, or us. I'm not," she hesitated, searching for the right words to say. "I know that I haven't been myself lately. I…”

“You haven’t,” Severus croaked, his tangled feelings exposed. He felt as anxiety entwined with his simmering anger, and his hand covered hers. “Please Hermione, let me in.”

“I did something a decade ago,” Hermione whispered, “something during the war that I cannot let go of. It…it happened next month, and I – I can’t stop thinking of it.”

Severus’s brow furrowed, as he rested his temple against hers. “You were a child during the war,” he said, his tone as gentle as his words were overused. “Dumbledore used you as a soldier – whatever you did is not yours to blame yourself for.”

“But it is,” Hermione replied, with a sad, little smile. “I wanted to keep my parents safe, and I…I took their lives away from them, Severus. I Obliviated them and sent them away to Australia, where they would be safe.”

He kissed away the tears that slid down her cheeks, as shame pooled through his veins. It was his nature to interpret his mate’s hurt as because of him, with his father’s words ringing in his ears – feelings of worthlessness and self-loathing always seemed just below the surface, as if he were a child still.

He wanted to be better for her.

He had to be.

She hadn’t made the decision for him to change her lightly, no, and it was entirely her decision alone. The cursed knife that Bellatrix had used to carve the horrid word into her skin was slowly killing her, the dark magic imbued within her wound leeching her very life from her. Hermione told him she wasn’t afraid to die, after cure after cure had resulted in little change.

Nor had Hermione proposed it at first, after Severus confessed his love for her. She asked for nothing from him but stayed at his side, faithfully stirring his potions, and spending her nights awake with him, even before he changed her. They kept the world at bay outside their door, and wanted nothing but privacy, above all.

She wrote letters frequently to Harry and his wife, as well as his godson, Draco Malfoy who sought redemption after the war and he apologized for his treatment of her. She wrote letters too, to George Weasley who mourned for the loss of his twin, and she wrote to Ron, who struggled to find his stride as an Auror still. Hermione had a longing for the outside world that Severus lacked, though he never sought to prevent her from having friendships.

Yet it was Severus who held her during the Change, allowing her to weep in his arms, as she writhed, and she burned. It was an experience that bonded them closer to one another, the fury of the Change driving the Dark Magic from her soul. It fled her body, but Severus never left her, nor did he want to.

“I’m sorry,” Severus whispered, before kissing the tip of her nose. “So very sorry, Hermione.”

She had always taken comfort in his voice, and like a purring cat, rubbed her cheek against his. “I can’t help but think they are safe but not whole,” Hermione confessed, “Or maybe it’s too painful to think of them as being happy and whole, without remembering me at all – “

His arms circled around her waist, as he pulled her flush against him. “I understand,” Severus said, having once felt the same about Lily, as she burned with life when she was married to James Potter. Yet his feelings for Lily were nothing like how he felt towards Hermione, the only soul to ever accept him wholly, and unflinchingly.

He never would regret the rainy night that he'd come across her, when she'd sat alone at a train station, with her beaded purse in her arms. She'd broken up with Ron and fled from the wizarding world – straight into his arms after they left the train station to eat at his favorite curry place instead. The dull flavor of human food had seemed spicy and danced across his tongue when he sat across from her, and they had simply never parted afterward.

Nor would they if Severus had his wish, and Hermione truly wanted to stay.

“I miss them,” Hermione murmured, “Every night and every day, even though I never forget that I’m the one to blame. I chose to send them away, without a memory of the child they had, or…or anything of their former lives. Their true lives,” her voice cracked at that, and she moved to bury her head against his shoulder. “I don’t have a right to feel this way.”

“You do,” Severus said, his hands resting on the small of her back.

She was a mess of contradictions; her small frame holding a soul that was far stronger, and bolder than his own. He wanted to curse himself for leaving her to the wolves during the war, though they weren’t lovers, nor friends then. His focus then was consumed with thoughts of Lily and twisted bitterness about protecting her son.

“Merlin, Hermione, you did the only thing that you could. The Dark Lord would have never allowed your parents to live. The things that he did to muggles – the things that I did to them – “ he dragged a ragged breath in.

He wanted her closer still as if he could hold on to her, so she never let go of him.

“You saved them, my love,” Severus said softly, though they were the only ones in their room. There would never be another between them, nor a child born from her womb, as their kind was unchanging.

There was only the low purr of her familiar, Crookshanks, who chose then to wind about their legs and rub his face against Severus' foot. With a little blood magic, he would live out his immortal days with them. "My love, my life - believe me. I wouldn’t lie to you.”

He wouldn’t.  

“Promise?” Hermione asked, quieter than he’d ever heard her.

He prayed that she would believe him, as truth dripped from his words. No one would have helped his mate and her parents, not even him. Dumbledore had cared only for Harry, zealously arranging his pawns so his king was protected, and at the forefront of the chessboard. Harry was the one that mattered – Harry was the only one that truly mattered and was needed in the war against Voldemort.

“I swear it,” Severus whispered. "I'll take a Vow if you wish."

He wanted to free her from her pain, her guilt, even as he knew that it couldn't be undone. It was an ache inside of her soul that wouldn't leave her, yet he wanted to try as he never had for any other. Offers rose to his tongue, ones of finding a reversal to the spell, and finding her parents once again.

Severus held his tongue still, knowing that wasn’t what his mate needed, not then. Later, perhaps, when her tears had dried and she nestled close to him, and she knew that he would listen to all that she wanted to share.

She pressed closer against him and grasped the fabric of his robes with her hand. “I wish that I didn’t remember,” Hermione confessed, “over and over again. I see their eyes glaze over and I…I just can’t – I want to forget but I never want to let them go.”

It was all that she could give him then, the wound too raw, and exposed as it was. (Yet she didn't turn her heart away, no – it turned toward him, as she sought the comfort of his hold and the honesty of his soul.)

“I know, sweetheart,” Severus said, knowing more than most how she felt. There were memories that haunted him once, a tangle of faces and a mesh of names that were engraved across his skin. “I know.”

They held each other close, saying nothing then.

[noir-renard]

Title: So Long We Become the Flowers (on AO3)

Author: @noir-renard​ (Cielle_Noire on AO3)

Length: 100k

Rating: Mature

Pairing: Drarry

Tags/warnings: No archive warnings apply, Non-linear narrative, Alternate Universe, Original AU, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, flower symbolism, Romance, Eventual Happy Ending, Unreliable Narrator, POV Draco Malfoy, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Dissociation, Anxiety, flangst, the ending is very fluffy, Hogwarts Era

Summary:

Harry is a Red Charge, creator of storms and fire. Draco is a Green Charge, a designer of flowers. If they’d followed The Rules, they would never have met. But they hadn’t, and so they did. Mistrust gives way to curiosity gives way to understanding and, against all odds, love. They should never have met, but they did. If they want to stay together, they must take an ultimate test of devotion: becoming mortal. If they succeed, they will prove their love to the Patrons who would forbid their bond. If they fail, they lose the right to exist.

If Draco and Harry can make it work as Charges of two Patrons as opposite as can be, why not Malfoy and Potter?

Excerpt below the cut:

The Newcomer was unlike anything Draco had ever seen before, and the only word he could use to describe them was beautiful. Draco knew a lot about beautiful; it was his job to make beautiful flowers. But he did not think he could have crafted that which lay before him.

He watched for longer than he should have; he shouldn’t have watched at all. He should have turned around and left, and not spent any more energy thinking about it. He shouldn't have ever come here in the first place, but here he was, and this was the consequence: Uncertainty, novelty, and an ache to know what it all meant.

He shouldn't be here, yes, but here he was, frozen with indecision. If he left and immediately got to behaving as a dutiful Charge should, he'd never get answers. And he'd already, after a fashion, infringed upon the Rules, had he not? If he got caught, there were no degrees of infractions of Rule-Breaking to be considered. Wrong was Wrong, and he'd come this far. If he got caught now or after sating his curiosity, his punishment would be the same.

Thus, after too-long-to-be-decent but not-long-enough to come up with a better plan, he made a decision.

He stepped out of the shaded ether and cleared his throat to announce his presence.

The Other Charge sat up, eyes flying open as they scrambled to summon their uniform and cover them self with it. The chiton uniform was crimson in colour—no, it was closer to carmine, rich and lovely. It swirled around them like thick, lazy smoke, crackling dangerously with fleeting sparks where it folded across itself. Draco's uniform was longer than theirs, sweeping down to his ankles like a waterfall, but the Other's was only thigh length and apparently cut for ease of movement, leaving much of their body exposed.

Admiration of the colour and essence of the uniform brought understanding of its significance: the Charge’s Patron was Red. Draco's heart sank like a stone, all the more striking in contrast to how it had soared before. Green and Red did not get along. Their Charges did not interact, did not cooperate on projects. There was no goodwill between them, or appreciation of each other’s merits. He did not even know what Red Charges did, so estranged were their spectrums.

Draco wished he could hide his own ivy uniform, climbing vines, and delicate silvery petals. But then he would be the nude one, and he doubted that would improve the situation. His cheeks stung with frost at the very thought of that particular humiliation.

The Red Charge straightened out his Carmine Uniform—as much as smoke could ever be straightened—and focused on Draco. “Ah, Patrons, I'm sorry you, uh, had to see that. I didn't, er. See you. There. Here. Um.” In his embarrassment, it seemed the Red Charge had yet to notice that Draco was a Green Charge.

“Not surprising,” Draco replied coolly, though he felt anything but cool in this situation. “Your eyes were closed, after all.”

The Red Charge winced and rubbed the back of his head, mussing his already dreadfully delightfully messy hair. His cheeks flushed nearly the same colour as his uniform, and Draco found himself wondering what it would feel like to touch them. Would they be frosty, like Draco’s? Surely not, with Red as his Patron, nature as opposite to Green as could be.

But Draco couldn’t even begin to imagine what the opposite of cold might feel like.

“No one ever comes over here,” the Red Charge continued, oblivious to Draco's inner turmoil, “I thought I was safe to...er. Unwind?”

Draco sniffed at that, deciding to focus on his irritation at finding his spot occupied rather than his disconcerting wayward admiration of the colour and feel of another Charge’s cheeks. “Do you come here often?”

“Every day,” the Charge replied easily, previous embarrassment seemingly forgotten. He squinted slightly, eyes roving over and cataloguing the colour of Draco's uniforms. “Have done for ages. I’d definitely remember if I’d seen you here before.”

“I’ve been coming here for more cycles than I can count,” Draco bit back.

The Red Charge smirked; eyes gleaming. "Well, that could be a lot, I suppose, depending on how high you can count."

Draco scowled. Crossed his arms. Uncrossed them. Irritation was coming more easily now. It was jarring to think he’d unknowingly been sharing his private meadow with someone he did not know, someone who should have been different from him in every way. But said someone had found this place too, just like Draco. Had come here frequently, just like Draco.

Draco didn't want to share traits with a Charge from the opposite end of the spectrum, if not literally than in every way that mattered. He didn’t even want to think about it, for if Draco were in any way like a Red Charge, what did that say about his adequacy as a Green Charge? Better to deflect blame elsewhere.

“I've never seen anyone else here before you," he said, raising an eyebrow, "Why have we never crossed paths if, as you say, you’ve been coming here for 'ages'?”

The Red Charge narrowed his eyes, carefree posture straightening to rigid. The air around him seemed to snap with bright fleeting light, threatening and sharp. “Are you calling me a liar?”

It was an intriguing display, to be sure, but any beauty Draco had seen was rapidly being replaced with more irritation and—though loath to admit it—fear. “Merely stating facts. Why? Feeling defensive?”

The Red Charge muttered something about ‘Green gits’ under his breath, but Draco decided, magnanimously, to ignore anything not said to him directly.

That, and the Red Charge was crackling louder and more sporadically now, dark clouds swirling above them and blotting out the mid-morning sky. The hairs on Draco's neck were standing at attention, telling him to run.

But he stood his ground, stubborn to the last.

“Not that it’s any of your business," The Red Charge growled, "but I got a new schedule today. I’m normally here in the afternoon.”

"Afternoon?" Draco echoed. It was a mortal expression, one he understood but which had little meaning outside the mortal realm.

Draco didn't get the chance to ask about it though—not that he wished to prolong their discourse—as the Red Charge said, “I was just leaving, anyway. Storms to brew, you understand. Wouldn't want to disturb your delicate sensibilities.”

And then he left. Without even giving his name, the heathen.

Then again, Draco hadn't asked. Or offered his own name...Well, it was of little import. Draco would probably never see the Red Charge again, now that whoever-he-was knew this abandoned meadow wasn't as abandoned as he'd thought. The dark clouds dispelled, and the sun returned to wipe away any lingering darkness wrought by the Red Charge.

When Draco returned the next Cycle and the Red Charge was there already—again—Draco didn't know what to think.

“Oh, it's you,” the Red Charge said with a teasing if not lazy smile.

“You again?” Draco sighed.

"I'm surprised to see you came back," he continued as though Draco hadn't spoken. He didn't sound surprised. "I thought I'd scared you off with my, ah, display yesterday.” In spite of his bravado, his cheeks were flushed a dusky pink. Perhaps the Red Charge was not as nonchalant about it all as he seemed. And he’d used a mortal time expression again. Why? Was it a Red Charge mannerism, or something else?

Draco decided he'd already thought too much about it.

“It takes more than that to scare me,” Draco sniffed, examining his nails to hide his fascination discomfiture. “I didn't think you'd return after getting caught in flagrante delicto yesterday.” Seven Spectrums, using the mortal time expressions was catching, wasn't it? Patrons help him. “Last Cycle, that is. I see you aren't displaying anything today.”

He regretted saying it the moment the words left his mouth. Patrons, what was wrong with him?

“Not that I wanted to see it again or anything. Er, see you again. I mean, obviously.” Draco willed himself to stop talking before he made it worse.

He had a sinking feeling it couldn’t have been any worse. If the Red Charge's smirk were any measure of Draco's remaining grace, he had none. The damage was done.

“I got all my displaying over and done with already, but if you're that disappointed—”

It was sheer stubbornness alone that kept Draco from cutting his losses and leaving his perfect spot forever. “Don't flatter yourself.”

“I don't need to flatter myself with you around.”

Draco, graciously, decided to ignore whatever the Red Charge was implying, and instead decided to point out, “It’s against The Rules to leave your Sector."

“Oh, is it?” The Red Charge’s lips quirked in amusement. “Forgive me, I didn’t realize I was dealing with such a discerning Rule Follower.”

Draco tsked under his breath. Was he being mocked? He was, wasn’t he? This situation was annoying enough as it was without adding sarcasm to the mix. Completely unnecessary. “I could report you, you know.”

The Red Charge shook his head in mock disappointment. “Ah, but you don’t know who I am. My name, my lineage, my palette. What are you going to tell your supervisor? That you saw a Red Charge out in an abandoned sector? Even if you didn’t get in trouble for the exact same infraction, Red would throw out the accusation on principle as soon as they learned it came from the Green Sector.”

“But the Rules—”

“You underestimate Red’s spite and pettiness, especially when it comes to Green.” He slunk lower against the pillar he was leaned upon, as if heavy thoughts weighed him down. A hint of something dark crept into his face, his eyes stormy and introspective. Draco wasn’t entirely sure what it meant, but it didn’t seem directed at him. Curious.

The Red Charge pushed off the pillar with a force that belied his blasé attitude, the ruins flashing a streak of weak red light like fingers trying to hold on to wind. Draco himself had never touched the pillars, still preferring the grass, but he found the reaction curious. They always had a dim glow of light, but he'd never known they could react to the spectrum of a Charge.

"I could report you, too, you know," the Red Charge continued, brushing past Draco at an arm's distance and distracting him from inquiries about the nature of the pillar. Not that Draco would have asked. "My superiors wouldn't mind overlooking an infraction of the Rules if it were to the detriment of Green."

"You wouldn't," Draco growled, cheeks stinging with angry frost.

The Red Charge shrugged, and continued walking, calling back over his shoulder, "Guess you'll only know if you show up tomorrow."

"Is that a threat?"

The Red Charge didn't respond, disappearing into the dark ether separating the Light Sectors.

"I won't abandon my meadow!" Draco shouted after him. He wasn't sure if the Red Charge could still hear him, but he felt is should be said it on principle. "I found this place."

He had the distinct impression he was being laughed at from beyond the boundary, as if to say challenge accepted.

Challenge, indeed.

[s13e06]

Different Worlds Pt 3

Draco Malfoy / Female Reader

Harry Potter AU / Non-Magical

Warnings: none I think? Let me know 

Words: 2.7K

Part 1, Part 2

-

Chapter 3 After the odd encounter with Draco in the library, you had trouble getting him off your mind. You’d think about him during the oddest times of the day. Finding yourself wondering about what he was up to and what exactly he had been thinking while he stared at you before. Was it some kind of game to him? Was it a threat? Could he maybe be interested in you? Way too many questions and what-ifs buzzed in your head. A part of you found it a little ridiculous how easily you were letting this guy invade your mind. Perhaps you were just romanticizing the whole situation? From an outsider’s perspective the whole thing probably just looked like two people weirdly staring at each other in silence before one of them walked away. Yes, the more you thought about it the more you realized that you were being quite silly. Acting like some love-struck teenager. The kind that would go home and write her crush’s name all over her notebook. You would not let yourself get to that point. Especially not over a man you had been specifically warned about by your closest friend. You hoped that at the very least you had enough sense to heed her warning. So, you decided to forget about him. Throw him from your mind and shake off whatever feelings lingered from the library incident. You owed it to Daphne and to yourself not to go gaga over some guy you barely knew. To your surprise you were quite successful with pushing him from your thoughts, easily going back to your daily routine with no interruption. Your midterms went by without a hitch. All that studying really paid off as got your grades back.  You and Daphne celebrated the victory over lunch, excitedly gushing about how things were going so well for the both of you. Your school life was looking up, Daphne was having success in her personal relationships, and you were just happy to be making something of yourself. The sense of achievement was euphoric in its own way. A smile never leaving your face the whole day and as you looked around campus you could see the slightest hint of spring approaching. You had never been happier. - “What do you mean you can’t have coffee after class today?” You asked Daphne curiously. She almost never canceled on your little afternoon hangouts. “Well… things have been going well with Jessica and I figured you wouldn’t mind if I canceled on you… just this once! I promise I won’t make a habit of it or anything! Don’t be mad!” She pleaded to you with puppy dog eyes. There was no way you could be upset with her over something like this. Everyone deserved the chance to build their romantic life. You weren’t the type to stand in the way of that just because you had none. Plus you had met Jessica once before and she seemed as nice as they came. Quite beautiful too. You were sure Daphne was proud of that although she’d never brag about it. “Of course I’m not mad,” you smiled at her. “You deserve to have some fun! Don’t let my single ass slow you down” you laughed while nudging her shoulder. “Thank you” she grinned. “Have fun tonight” you smirked at her, adding a suggestive wink just to tease. She only blushed at your comment before laughing some more and running off, bidding you one last thank you as she left. You were glad she had someone worth running off to like that.  Smiling to yourself over the whole thing you began to walk off campus slightly. Maybe a change of scenery would be nice? You were sure there was a nice café somewhere along the road that could offer you some quiet time alone. Walking down the street you couldn’t help but admiring the buildings around you. They were old looking and came in various shades of brown. But something about the atmosphere was so calming. Even though you had been living in London for a few months now you still spent most of your time on campus. It was nice there of course but you enjoyed moments like this where you could simply walk around and take in all the things that lie before you. Coming to a stop on a corner you looked to the right to see a little café peeking out ever so slightly from the various buildings. It looked small and inviting, and as you venture closer you could smell the strong aroma of various coffees and teas being brewed. It was perfect. As you made your way into the shop, pushing past a small green door, a little bell announced your arrival. The layout inside the shop was just as you imagined. Dim lighting, various chairs, and couches spread out, small circular and square tables propped throughout, and a large chalkboard displayed in the back listing the various drinks offered. You went to the little counter and greeted the woman behind it with a polite hello. She smiled at you warmly while you ordered your drink; opting for a nice herbal tea. You went to find an empty chair in the corner where you could think peacefully, feeling absolutely delighted to find an empty stool and round table near the back. As you set your tea down and settled into your seat you couldn’t help but bask in the peaceful ambiance. Life was going good for you. What could really stop it now… The sound of a little bell broke you out of your thoughts as your eyes drifted over to the entrance door. Someone had just come into the quiet shop as well and to your utter astonishment, it was none other than Draco Malfoy. You gaped at him from your little corner in disbelief. Just when you had felt so relaxed and peaceful the one person who was guaranteed to set you on edge literally walks through the door. The good thing was that he hadn’t seemed to notice you yet. You took a mental note at how much he stood out inside the quaint establishment. His perfect posture, neatly styled hair, and rather expensive looking clothing was rather eye-catching in contrast to the dimly lit café. His back was to you at the moment while he spoke to the worker. You noticed how even though she smiled warmly to you, she was glowing at the sight of him. Staring into his eyes and laughing a little too loudly at whatever he was saying. It was quite a curious sight indeed. Busy studying the interaction between the two, you realized immediately when he had turned around, now facing you. For a moment his eyes scanned over the room lazily; most likely in search of a seat. But then they stopped on you. He seemed just as shocked to see you there as you had been to see him moments ago. However, he quickly drew a blank face and began to saunter over towards you. Your pulse quickened as you watched him draw near, totally unsure of what to do in this situation. All you could do was gulp nervously as he came to a stop in front of you. “Hello again” he greeted you with a friendly smile. “H-hello,” you said, regretting you’d ever come into this café, to begin with. “Fancy seeing you here. Do you mind if I join you?” He asked while gesturing to the empty stool across from you. You timidly nodded your head no as you muttered a quiet “sure, go ahead” to him, completely frazzled by the situation. He sat down with a content kind of sigh as he set his drink down in front of yours; the dark black liquid of his drink standing out against the light color of your own. “So, I take it Daphne didn’t waste any time in slandering my name, did she?” he asked with an oddly amused smirk. “What exactly makes you think that?” you asked, hoping to defend Daphne in a way. “I came to the conclusion on my own after seeing you two in the library before. You glanced at her with a look of dread after I walked in. I take it you didn’t want her to know I was there?” he inquired. “You’ve caught me” you admitted with a sheepish grin, not wanting him to feel angry with you but also wishing for this interrogation to end. “I suppose I won’t ask you what she told you. I figure the truth to be worse than my assumptions” he said while slowly glancing from your face down to your thumb; which had been nervously tapping against the table this whole time. “I’m sure you had your own reasons for doing things…” you spoke in an effort to provide him reassurance. He seemed surprised by your response, one eyebrow raising slightly in surprise. He smiled then as he brought a hand up to rest under his chin. “Thank you for providing me with the benefit of the doubt” he chuckled. “Anytime” you muttered while shifting your gaze away from his smiling face. A moment of silence occurred as you took a few small sips of your tea, loving the way the warm liquid soothed your throat; calming you ever so slightly. “Tell me, Y/N what brings you to London?” he asked, breaking the silence. You blinked at him slowly setting down your cup and peering into his grey eyes. “Well… after I graduated high school I spent two years working and traveling the world.  I found that seeing new things and meeting new people was what I loved more than anything.” You told him as a smile eased onto your face. “Then I figured that if I was going to go college I might as well do it abroad.” He nodded at your words seemingly interested in what you were saying. “What made you decide to go to university?” he asked. “Mostly it was what my parents wanted for me. They were afraid I’d have no real future without any further education” you admitted to him; leaving out the part where you were offered a full-ride scholarship, somehow feeling embarrassed at the thought of him knowing that much. He seemed to be thinking for a moment as his eyes peered down into his cup. You wondered if maybe you had told him too much and he was starting to feel awkward… As if your mind wasn’t reeling enough he slowly looked up to meet your eyes and opened his mouth as if to say something. But quickly closed it as if changing his mind. You shifted your eyes away from his face quickly feeling a little uncomfortable at the silence. Breaking the silence, you heard him hum lightly in response as he nodded his head. “Well, all things considered, I hope you’re feeling as though coming here to study was a good decision?” he asked you softly after a few seconds of contemplation. Relief washed over you at the sound of his words. His voice was smooth and attractive. It reassured you for reasons you couldn’t quite comprehend. You smiled at him timidly. “I don’t think I’ve ever been happier”’ you said with a content little hum. At that moment it was like time stood at a still. You looked into his eyes wondering what it was about him that was so inviting and in turn, he looked in yours. But his expression was almost unreadable. The conversation went from a little touchy and personal to simply easy going and friendly. You began to tell him about some of the things you’d noticed while in London. What the people did differently, what you thought of the food, and how you were enjoying the university lifestyle. He listened to you intently, smiling at your words and laughing lightly ever now and then. You found that you quite liked the sound of it… his laughter. It was easy to talk to him. He was kind, polite, and the more you spoke to him the lighter you felt. You knew what this feeling was. You didn’t fall for people easily but when you did it tends to be intense and distracting; wasting no time in completely taking over your mind. Maybe you should have been a little worried at this realization but when you looked at him across from you, smiling at you like you were the most interesting person he’d ever met, you found that you didn’t care. After all, it couldn’t hurt to harbor just a little crush on him… could it? Completely lost in the conversation you neglected to glance at your watch even once. But to your luck, Draco seemed to remember such detail as he glanced at his own and furrowed his brow. He gave a kind of defeated sigh before giving you a sorry smile. “I hate to end this lovely conversation but it’s already a quarter past 2 and I-“ but before he could finish your body immediately shot upright from your relaxed position; startling him a little as his words broke off. “It’s already that late?” you asked frantically while getting up from your stool, quickly collecting yourself. He watched with wide eyes as you stumble around in front of him, preparing to leave, sending him a quick explanation of being late for your next class as you rushed towards the door. You shot out a little yell of sorry as you stumbled back onto the street. You began to quickly walk down the street in the direction of your school, mind racing with regret. How could you have let yourself completely lose track of time like that? It was very unlike you. You frowned a little at the internal realization of why you had been so distracted. “Hey! W-wait!” you heard a yell come from behind you as you turned to see Draco jogging up to you. You stopped briefly, heart racing, you looked at him expectantly. “You left before I could ask you” he laughed while running a hand through his hair in efforts to smooth it a little. “Ask me what?” you questioned anxiously. Partially due to the fact that you were running late but mostly because at hearing his words your mind began to swim with thoughts of what he could mean by that. “Will you meet me later?” he asked you with a smile. The same smile you had seen throughout your time in the café. A wonderful eruption of butterflies burst in your stomach as you felt the heat rise to your face. “O-of course” you responded, visibly nervous now. He smirked a little at your obvious shift in behavior before he spoke again. “Brilliant, Meet me back here at 8?” he asked gesturing down towards the café you’d both just left. You smiled timidly before nodding your head a little. “Yeah, I’ll be there,” you told him as you glanced ahead again. The worry of being late to class slowly fading as you took in this moment. “See you then,” he said to you while putting a hand into his pant pocket as the other rubbed the back of his neck a little. Your heart fluttered again at the sight before you turned on your heel and began to race off towards campus. You waved by to him as you left, promising to see him later and without looking back. By the time you made it to class, you noticed that you were about 20 minutes late. You sheepishly grinned at your professor (who couldn’t be bothered to question you) as you scurried to take a seat in the back of the class. As you settled into your seat a feeling of elation washed over you. Your mind was replaying every second of being with Draco in the café and the more you thought about it the more you couldn’t help the smile from breaking out onto your face. 8 pm was all you repeated to yourself as you watched the professor ramble on and quickly scribble some things on the chalkboard. The classroom around you carried on as normal but your mind was stuck in an abyss. One that you didn’t particularly care to pull yourself from…

---

Author’s Note: Ok so it took me a minute to write this one because I’ve been pretty busy lately. I apologize that this is a pretty uneventful chapter but I promise the next part is when it really starts to pick up. I kind of just needed to establish this one to get the ball rolling haha.

-

Tag List: @clockworkherondale @kaibie @accio-rogers

[ao3feed-snamione]

Remember Me In Winter

read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/32IfEHB

by Elinie

None knew for sure how and when it all started. One day everything seemed perfectly fine, the other day all their life had turned into a total and inevitable disaster. At first, Hermione assumed that Severus, perhaps, mixed his potions again. He used to do that a lot when he was too immersed in his brewing, or worked on endless theses, or was too distracted in general. She used to tease him when he lifted his eyes to look at her, totally ignorant of what and who she was. 

"Honey, have you by any chance mistaken your headache Potion again?" she used to ask and giggle, looking into Severus' blurry eyes. 

Words: 1218, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

Fandoms: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Categories: F/M

Characters: Draco Malfoy, Lavender Brown, Severus Snape, Hermione Granger

Relationships: Hermione Granger/Severus Snape

Additional Tags: Angst, Memory Loss, AU, Post-War, Post-Hogwarts, Drama & Romance, Hopeful Ending, Happy Ending, Healers, Dementia

read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/32IfEHB

[hdowlpost]

OWL GIFTS for Darkravenwrote!

Gift from: anon Read on AO3: (You're a) Revolution Summary:

“Will I—Will I see you around?” Malfoy snorts. “Careful, Potter,” he murmurs, almost to himself, as his fingers linger on the doorknob. “One might think you actually enjoy my presence.”

Eight years after the end of the war, Draco Malfoy stumbles into Harry’s shop in the middle of a storm—no wand, no backstory; no signs of having lived in the country since the Battle of Hogwarts. During their first encounter, Harry promises Malfoy—and the words sound like an old mantra—that he'll figure out Draco's secrets eventually. And then he does. He does, except… it doesn't quite feel like a victory. Word Count: 23k Rating: Explicit Gift from: anon Read on AO3: Molten Summary: While looking for a Christmas gift for his mother, Draco Malfoy comes across a glass shop that sells amazing living-glass creations. When he finds out that the owner of the shop, and creator of the beautiful glass pieces, is Harry Potter, a friendship forms-or perhaps it will be something more. Word Count: 8668 Rating: T Contains: Nothing but fluff

Gift from: anon Read on AO3: Aguamenti Summary: There’s a storm brewing and Harry just knows he’s involved somehow. Word Count: 3110 Rating: mature | R Contains: mild gore (mild in my opinion), Alternate Universe - Fantasy, mermaid au, siren au 

[aidanchaser]

Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince: Everyone Lives AU

Table of Contents beta’d by @ageofzero, @magic713m, and @somebodyswatson

Chapter Ten The House of Gaunt

Harry’s head was still swimming with a strange thrill of success when they sat down for dinner after their first day of classes. The Felix Felicis was tucked away in the breast pocket of his robes, the safest place he could think of until he could return to the common room with his friends.

“If you got that lucky,” Ron said as he piled his plate with roast potatoes, “you’d be the last person who needed the luck potion. Come on, what did you do?”

“You’ve never done better than me in Potions,” Hermione said, her voice full of a particular brand of acid that she usually reserved for Ron.

But Harry, still thrilled with his success, was unhurt by her comment. He’d only ever managed to outdo Hermione in Defense Against the Dark Arts, and it was nice to have succeeded in something else for once, something he didn’t feel destined to succeed in.

“Maybe I’ve learned a bit from my Mum,” he said. “I brewed my own Essence of Dittany with an Infusion of Silver this summer. Even helped with a handful of Blood-Replenishing Potions.” He kept an intentionally cheeky grin as he said it, though. He would tell Ron and Hermione about the book — but later, in the common room, where they were less likely to be overheard.

Once they were seated in a quiet corner, where Harry was mostly hidden behind an overstuffed chair in order to avoid the gaping eyes of first-years and the handful of fourth and fifth year girls who had taken a fashion to saying shy “hellos” to him in the hallway, though he’d never spoken to them before, Harry showed them his copy of Advanced Potion-Making and told them about the previous owner’s additional instructions.

Hermione’s irritation transformed into cold judgement as Harry spoke, as if each of his words was part of a lengthy Transfiguration spell.

“I s’pose you think I cheated?” he asked her, once he had finished explaining.

“Well, it wasn’t exactly your own work, was it?”

“He only followed different instructions from ours,” said Ron, who was squinting at the cramped writing beside a recipe for Invigoration Draught. “Could’ve been a catastrophe, couldn’t it? But he took a risk, and it paid off. Slughorn could’ve handed me that book, but no, I get the one no one’s ever written on. Puked on by the look of page 52.”

Harry, without meaning to, tuned out Ron’s complaints. He had become distracted by a familiar scent that entered the common room. It was earthy, like his family’s garden, like the Burrow, like the Quidditch pitch — like the Amortentia he had smelled downstairs just hours ago. Then Ginny leaned over Harry to snatch the book out of Ron’s hands and he caught a whiff of the same floral shampoo he had smelled last night, when he’d told her about the prophecy. He hadn’t been able to identify it then, as caught up as he’d been in the prophecy, but he’d smelled it again in the Potions classroom, and he knew it was jasmine. It was the same scent he caught in the garden each summer. He had wondered if the Amortentia was simply telling him he missed home. Now he wondered if it was telling him something else.

“Did I hear right?” Ginny said, apparently unconcerned with the way her long, loose red hair brushed Harry’s cheek. “You’ve been taking orders from something someone wrote in a book, Harry?”

She looked both frightened and furious. Harry was eager to allay her fears.

“It’s just something someone wrote in a textbook — it’s nothing like Riddle’s diary.”

“But you’re doing what it says?”

“I just tried a few of the tips written in the margins, Ginny. Honestly, there’s nothing funny —”

Hermione, though, seemed almost excited at the idea that this potions textbook, with notes from a former student, might be tantamount to the diary that had possessed Ginny and forced her to unleash a basilisk on the other students at Hogwarts.

“Ginny’s got a point,” she said. “We ought to check that there’s nothing odd about it. I mean, all these funny instructions, who knows?”

Ginny quickly handed the book over to Hermione before Harry could grab it from her.

“Hey —”

Hermione tapped her wand on the cover. “Specialis Revelio!”

Harry remembered trying a similar spell on Tom Riddle’s diary. He did not think that if this book was hiding comparable dark secrets, her spell would work any better than his had.

As expected, the book lay flat on the floor undamaged, apart from the wear and tear it had sustained years previously.

“Finished?” Harry asked. “Or d’you want to wait and see if it does a few backflips?”

He reached for it, but Ginny leaned in and snatched it first. She squinted at the cramped handwriting in the margins and turned it over. “Writing’s familiar, though, isn’t it? Ah —” she looked at the bottom of the back cover. “‘This Book is the Property of the Half-Blood Prince,’” she read. “Who’s the Half-Blood Prince?”

“How should I know?” Harry finally grabbed the book from Ginny. “This book’s older than I am, I’d bet.” He managed to hide his disappointment at the name in a feigned irritation with his friends.

Harry’d had a wild thought in the middle of the Potions lesson that perhaps the book had belonged to his mother. The handwriting hadn’t been hers, but the way the notes were written and the commentary they offered up about the initial author of the book had reminded him of her notes about the Essence of Dittany recipe. Unfortunately, this new discovery erased any possibility the co-author might have been his mother. She was neither a half-blood nor a prince. Besides that, as he’d already checked, the publication date was long before his mother had attended school.

“I still think you shouldn’t use it,” Hermione warned.

Harry did not plan to take her warning very seriously.

When he and Ron did finally make it upstairs to their dormitory, Harry tucked the Felix Felicis into a set of socks and buried it at the bottom of his trunk. He hid it away where he had tucked away another equally precious item, which he now removed.

Once Harry was certain none of the other boys were going to make use of the shower, Harry went inside, locked the door, and turned on the water to mask his voice as he pulled the recently repaired two-way mirror from the pocket of his robes.

Even though Umbridge was no longer searching through students’ post and limiting Harry’s contact with his family, James and Sirius had made sure to mend the shattered mirror before Harry returned to school. It was a convenient way to stay in touch, and Harry prefered talking to his parents face to face, more or less, instead of trying to parse their thoughts and worries from carefully crafted letters.

“Mum? Dad?” he said into the mirror. His breath fogged it over, and once it had cleared he had a good view of the kitchen, as if he were standing in front of the fireplace. He could see James helping Picksie finish the dishes, and Lily sitting at the small table with a small collection of letters in front of her. She was the first to look up at the mantle and the worry that was creased on her face vanished behind a relieved smile.

“Harry!” She walked over to the fireplace and took the mirror down. Harry’s view of the kitchen shifted dramatically, and became mostly consumed with Lily’s face as she sat back down at the table. “How was your first day?”

“Great — er, mostly. How are things at home? Where’s Sirius?”

“We’re alright here at home. Sirius has gone north to track a lead on some Death Eater recruiters. I’m organizing some reports for the Order and sorting out urgent information for Dumbledore. Your father’s done his part for the Order by making us an exceptional cherry pie.”

Harry laughed, because appreciating his mother’s joke was more pleasant than admitting he already missed home, and would have loved some of his father’s pie.

“What about you? What subjects did you have today?”

“I get a free period until lunch, so that’s nice,” Harry said. “But after that is Defense Against the Dark Arts with Snape.”

Lily’s smile was sympathetic, and Harry saw James approach over her shoulder.

“Sorry about that, Snitch,” James said. “We know he isn’t your favorite professor. But he’s been after that position for years. It was only a matter of time before Dumbledore ran out of candidates for the job.”

“I know Mum’s already tried, but you could come back and teach it,” Harry said.

Lily shook her head. “I love your father too much to let him take on a cursed teaching position. Nearly losing you to a basilisk was enough for us, I think.”

“Besides, Snape is very good at Defense, if I recall,” James said. “I’m sure there’s loads you can learn from him.”

“Good at the Dark Arts, maybe,” Harry grumbled. He bit down on his lip and reluctantly told them the least exciting part of his day: “I already got a detention from Snape.”

Their disappointed faces were as heartbreaking as Harry had expected, but neither of them mentioned grounding Harry, or punishing him any further as they might have when he was younger.

“What for?” James asked.

“Cheek.”

“Did you deserve it?” Lily asked.

“Maybe a little.”

“I don’t expect you and Snape to get on,” James said. “I’ve certainly never managed it myself, but I think you’ll learn a bit more from him if you keep your head down and do your best not to rise to any bait, no matter how tempting it might be, alright?”

“He singles me out!” Harry protested. “I even apologized for what happened this summer, but he’s no less a git than he was before. Isn���t he on our side?”

“Of course he is,” said Lily, “but Harry — perhaps you should talk to Dumbledore about it. He’ll be able to give you a better insight on Snape, and perhaps have the most influence over Snape’s behavior. You know Snape’s relationship with the two of us is complicated, and unless you want us to insist you be removed from Defense class —”

“No. I need to know Defense.”

“Then talk to Dumbledore. That might be your best option. Though if you deserve that detention, I’m not about to write an owl to Snape asking for you to be excused.”

Harry did knew he deserved the detention, though he didn’t regret what he’d said in the least. “No, I’ll do it. It’s just one Saturday. I’ll just have to move Gryffindor Quidditch try-outs back a week.” Truthfully, he was moving Gryffindor try-outs because he had a lesson with Dumbledore this coming Saturday, but he still wasn’t keen on explaining that to his parents.

“Potions went better, though,” Harry said, eager to change the subject to a more positive topic.

“So you are doing Potions!” James smiled. “I wondered, with Dumbledore hiring Slughorn.”

“I’m glad,” said Lily, and she truly looked proud. “I know you were disappointed in your O.W.L. results. What do you think of Slughorn as a teacher?”

“Theatrical,” Harry said. “Still dotes on his favorites, but he seems to know his stuff well enough. He doesn’t have any care for Malfoy, which is a nice change, since Snape favoured him all the time. And he likes that Hermione knows her stuff. And he actually awards points to Gryffindor.”

“Sounds like an improvement, all-in-all,” James said. “Did he do his usual song and dance, with the Felix Felicis and Amortentia? I remember scrambling to win that Felix Felicis. I wanted it for the Quidditch championship.”

“Which would have been illegal,” Lily reminded him.

James only shrugged with a smile.

“Well,” Harry said, trying and failing to suppress a wide smile, “I promise I won’t use it on a Quidditch match.”

Lily gasped. “Did you really? Harry, that’s impressive!”

James’s grin was as wide as Harry’s. “Congratulations.”

“But I’ll need potions supplies. And a copy of Advanced Potion-Making.” Harry didn’t have any intention of giving up the Half-Blood Prince’s copy, but he also had no intention of letting his parents know he had a copy with altered instructions inside, especially now that he was certain the instructions weren’t his mother’s.

“Of course, we’ll get those for you in Diagon Alley and have them sent over,” Lily assured him. “I’m glad your first Potions class went over so well. I expect you get it from me. Though I suppose all the extra work you’ve put into helping me this summer helped a good deal.”

Harry grinned, wishing for all the world that she was right. “I’m sure your notes in the book you gave me for my birthday will help.”

“Just promise not to use any of my comments in any essays for Slughorn,” Lily laughed. “He and I got into some atrocious rows over Potions theory. He’s a bit more… traditional than I was.”

Harry could not imagine Slughorn getting into a row with anyone. He seemed so amenable, particularly to people like Lily, who were gifted in their field, but Harry wasn’t sure he wanted further details. “I’ll remember that. Er — one more question…. You said he did the Amortentia when you took Potions. Do you… remember what it smelled like? Was it each other? Or was it just whoever you were going out with at the time?”

Lily blushed and James grinned.

“It did not smell like the girl I was dating at the time,” James said. “But I already knew who I liked and knew I was going out with the wrong girl. It didn’t tell me anything I didn’t already know. Your mother, on the other hand….”

Lily sighed, but her cheeks were still pink. “To be fair, what I smelled in the Amortentia wasn’t anything I didn’t already know, they were just things I didn’t want to know. Amortentia won’t tell you your true love, Harry, any more than it can create true love. It will just remind you of what you’re already attracted to.”

“If you’re really hung up on it,” James said, “you can do what your mother did, and nick a bunch of Slughorn’s potions supplies, and brew your own Amortentia in the prefect’s bathroom.”

Lily glared up at James. “That was a controlled experiment! I was… testing something.”

“Testing whether or not it smelled my cologne because I had leaned over to get a better whiff of Amortentia or because you were actually attracted to it?”

“I did not smell your cologne! I smelled — well — it was the Quidditch pitch. Or something earthy like it.”

“Like home,” Harry said, startled that he and his mother had this strange thing in common.

Lily looked surprised. “Yes. I suppose they are similar scents. Freshly cut grass, recently tilled earth, that sort of thing.”

“I smelled your mother’s shampoo,” James said. “Which is why when I caught her with a cauldron in the prefect’s bathroom, at first I thought I’d discovered the potion she used to make her hair so silky.”

“Oh, stop. You knew what it was and you teased me about it for months.”

“Sure. Once I saw the unique curls of steam and caught the smokier scent that reminded me of your temper and Sirius’s cigarettes, I knew what it was.”

Harry frowned. “Dad — why did the potion remind you of Sirius?”

James laughed. “It’s about what you’re attracted to, isn’t it? I love your mother’s temper and your mother, at times, reminds me of Sirius. Attraction and love are related, but they aren’t the same. Love is choice. It’s hard work and dedication. It’s a decision you make each day you decide to be with someone.” James leaned in closer to Lily and kissed the top of her head. “Attraction’s just a really good start.”

“Okay, thanks, that’s enough.” Harry had known it would be difficult enough to talk to his parents about Amortentia, and it had finally reached the “more than I ever wanted to know about my parents” category.

Lily seemed to understand. She smiled and said, “We’ll let you get some rest, Harry.”

“Oh — before I go — did you talk to Tonks today?”

James frowned. “She stopped in this morning to try to catch Sirius before he left, but she’d just missed him. Why? Is everything alright?”

“Yeah, fine.” So Tonks had had an opportunity to tell his parents about his eavesdropping on Malfoy and she hadn’t. He was grateful.

Harry yawned, hoping to hide his lie of omission. “I just saw her before the feast, since she was stationed at Hogwarts for the night. Wondered if she was alright.”

Lily and James didn’t seem to buy this explanation, but they didn’t press him further.

“Good night, Snitch,” said James. “Sweet dreams, alright?”

“Sure,” Harry said, a bit dismally, but he could only hope. “No dreams,” might have been a more realistic approach. But he didn’t correct his father. He only said, “You too,” knowing sweet dreams were a similarly difficult task for his parents, who worried about him far too much.

—————————— ✶✶✶——————————

Dear Mum and Dad,

I hope all is well at home. It’s only been a day at school and I miss you very much. We had Defense Against the Dark Arts today, and it is very challenging. We are learning silent spellcasting, and I can’t master it very well. But it’s only been one lesson. Maybe Harry or Hermione will be able to help me. Hermione is already doing very well.

I know Gran will be disappointed, but McGonagall would not let me continue Transfiguration. She said she was proud of my “A” but she only took students on who had achieved an “E” or above. She insisted I take Charms, though, and while it’s nice to be in a class with good friends — all of Gryffindor is taking Charms — I do feel like I’ve let Gran down a bit.

Herbology is wonderful, though! Professor Sprout is glad to have me in class, and she was very pleased with my “Outstanding,” almost as impressed as Mr. Potter was.

I know you’ve both said not to worry about you while I’m at school, but I do worry. I hope you are both safe. I was wondering what it was like during the first war. Did the two of you fight You-Know-Who a lot before I was born? Do you know how many times?

I was just wondering. Again, I hope you’re both safe. I love you very much!

Love,

Neville

—————————— ✶✶✶——————————

Cedric —

I hope all is well. I don’t know how bad it is at the Ministry these days, but I bet it can’t be easy. I had a sort of private lesson with Dumbledore tonight, and I already talked it over with Ron, Hermione, and Neville, but I thought you might be interested in it, too. Dumbledore’s decided to teach me stuff about Voldemort this year, stuff that he thinks might help me defeat him. I don’t totally understand how, but you might understand it better.

Tonight, Dumbledore showed me a memory of Bob Ogden. He used to work in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. I don’t know if he was an Auror or not. He said he was the head of some Squad or something. In the memory he was delivering a court summons. Is that something you do as an Auror? I guess that’s not really important. It wasn’t what he was doing that Dumbledore wanted to show me, it was who he was going to meet that Dumbledore wanted me to see.

There was this family called the Gaunt family. They lived outside of a village called Little Hangleton, and they claimed to be really important purebloods, descended from the Peverell family and the Slytherin family. They might have been right. Everyone in the family could speak Parseltongue. It was strange, being able to understand them in the memory, when even Dumbledore and Ogden didn’t know what they were saying.

Ogden was there to deliver a court summons to the son, Morfin, because Morfin had hexed a Muggle. Morfin also hexed Ogden when he arrived, and his dad, Marvolo Gaunt wasn’t even sorry about it. He said a lot of terrible things about Muggles and Muggle-borns. While Ogden was trying to explain about Morfin being in trouble, Marvolo put on this big speech about his family history, and showed Ogden the big black-stone ring that proved he was a Peverell and he nearly choked his daughter showing off Salazar Slytherin’s locket.

I think he really hated his daughter. He was cruel to her, called her a Squib, and said mean things about her in front of Ogden and everything. And when her brother told the father she liked looking at one of the Muggles in town, he nearly choked her to death. I think he might’ve if Ogden hadn’t been there to intervene, and if Ogden hadn’t come back and arrested Morfin and Marvolo.

It was a horrible memory to witness, and after it was over Dumbledore explained to me that the family is Voldemort’s family. The daughter Merope was his mother. The Muggle she liked was Tom Riddle, Voldemort’s father. Dumbledore thinks she used a love potion to make him leave his Muggle girlfriend. At some point, she stopped using it and he left her alone with the baby, and I guess she must have died some time after Voldemort was born, but she named him Tom Marvolo Riddle, after his father and grandfather.

I don’t know why Dumbledore showed me all this and told me about Voldemort’s parents, but he promised it was important. More interesting, I thought, was what Dumbledore had on his desk. He had the ring that Marvolo wore in the memory. I remembered he was wearing it the night he stopped by my house, too. Slughorn even recognized it, I think, when we visited him. I asked Dumbledore if he’d always had it, but he said he’d only gotten it recently — around the time he’d injured his hand. He’s hurt it so badly, it’s practically useless, but he won’t tell me what he did to it, or what it’s got to do with the ring, or why the ring has a huge crack in it now. I know it’s something about Voldemort, of course, but I can’t figure out what.

He also had Salazar Slytherin’s locket on his desk. It wasn’t broken but…. There was something about the locket. I didn’t like being in the same room with it. I guess it has something to do with Slytherin? He wouldn’t tell me where he got the locket, either. Only that a mutual friend of ours had given it to him. That could be anyone, though. Practically everyone I know would be considered a friend of Dumbledore’s.

I don’t know what to make of it all, exactly. I don’t know if you know any more, but I know you were very determined this summer to fight Voldemort, so I thought you should know what I know, at least.

One more thing…. I didn’t tell Dumbledore that I’d be telling you all of this. I knew I would tell Ron and Hermione and Neville, and Dumbledore seemed to agree that it’d be hard for me to keep it from them, but I didn’t mention that I’d write it to you. Not that I think you and Dumbledore take tea regularly, but these lessons are sort of secret.

Regardless, I hope you’re well. And I hope you’re safe.

— Harry

—————————— ✶✶✶——————————

Dear Harry,

It was great to hear from you. All is well here, for now. It’s terribly busy, of course, but I’ve managed to slip away to Grimmauld Place for a few hours and thought I’d take the time to write to you. It’s curiously empty; I’m not sure where Regulus Black has gotten off to. Makes it a bit harder to nap in the parlor, wondering if he’s going to appear suddenly. But he disappeared often enough while we were here that summer, didn’t he? So maybe it’s nothing strange at all.

Your letter was especially interesting. I’ve managed to do a bit of digging, as I have access to records as an Auror that you might not find with your Hogwarts library card. Bob Ogden was a fairly decorated Hit Wizard who eventually became an Auror and moved up into administrative roles from there. The memory you described seems to have taken place about seventy years ago. I was able to find the Aurors’ arrest report for Marvolo and Morfin Gaunt, and the transcripts of their trials. They certainly weren’t my favorite sort of purebloods. Seems like inbreeding and ancestors who squandered their wealth left the Gaunts fairly unhappy with a lot of pride in blood and no interest in work.

I wasn’t able to find any sort of birth records for Merope Gaunt’s son. I don’t know if I have to dig deeper at St. Mungo’s or if there just aren’t any, but I expect Dumbledore’s not wrong. He’d know for certain, as Tom Marvolo Riddle would have been recorded in the Book of Admittance when he was born, if he were eligible for Hogwarts. I can’t imagine anyone other than a Gaunt would saddle their child with a name like Marvolo.

I don’t know if you picked up on this, since you witnessed Bob Ogden’s memory, but that village that you mentioned, Little Hangleton, happens to be home to the same graveyard you and I were transported to at the end of the Triwizard Tournament. I don’t remember everything that happened when we were there, but when you were telling Dumbledore what happened, you mentioned the potion Voldemort used to resurrect himself. He mentioned something about his father’s bone, didn’t he? It would make sense if his father, Tom Riddle, was buried there.

You also mentioned that Morfin was initially being summoned because he’d hexed a Muggle, and I found that in his initial arrest record. But he was also arrested almost seventeen years later for murdering that same muggle — Tom Riddle. I wonder if he was upset that his sister had run off with a Muggle? Seventeen years seems like a long time to wait for revenge, but he seemed mad judging by the transcripts of his sentencing. Kept going on and on about how his father would kill him for losing the family ring. I wonder how it fell into Dumbledore’s possession. If Dumbledore tells you, you’ll have to let me know.

I can see why Dumbledore doesn’t want this kind of information spreading. Imagine if Voldemort knew just how much Dumbledore knew about him! I’m happy to keep my knowledge a secret, though I should warn you, I took a friend who’s a Hit Wizard out to Little Hangleton with me. When I made the connection between Little Hangleton and Voldemort’s father, I had to see for myself if the graveyard was the same place, and I wasn’t sure I’d be alright going on my own. I didn’t tell him anything, not even that it might be a lead on Voldemort. I told him it was a personal curiosity — which was true — and he didn’t press me. Thelborne’s that kind of friend. It’s nice. I don’t know many of the other wizards who’d be willing to take their day off to go tromping around a Muggle village looking at headstones with me.

We also found the Gaunt house, or what was left of it. It’s been falling apart for centuries, it seems like. It looked like someone had been there recently, and I told Thelborne it was probably just kids getting themselves into trouble, but I wonder if it wasn’t Voldemort himself….

I hope you found my letter as interesting as I found yours. And I hope your studies are going well. Quidditch season should be starting up soon. Is everything alright with that? I can’t imagine Dumbledore is enforcing Umbridge’s ban.

Look forward to hearing from you soon.

— Cedric

[daydreaming-away-reality]

Stargazing [Part 4]

Draco Malfoy x Reader | ☁️ + ☔ + 🌠 + ✨ | 1.9k | Ravenclaw!Reader | Arranged Marriage AU

[ Stargazing Masterlist ]

FIFTH YEAR

Listening to the murmurs of everyone else’s hushed conversations in the Room of Requirements, you closed your eyes and focused on the wand movements in order to create a Patronus. 

“Ready when you are, (Y/N).”

Nodding to acknowledge Harry’s words, you concentrated on the creation of the charm - happy thoughts. As much as it hurt you to think about a certain blonde hair boy, he was also the source of some of your happiest memories.

Without opening your mouth, you let the words quietly whisper in your mind.

“Expecto Patronum.”

The tip of your wand glowed a bright blue light that came out in wisp of smoke. It wasn’t long before your magic glowed brighter and began to shape into a distinctive shape.

Gasps immediately filled the air.

When you opened up your (E/C) eyes, you were met with the familiar form of your Patronus: a dragon. 

It flapped its wings powerfully as it swooped around the room leaving everyone in awe.

Like the original Swedish Short-Snout dragon, it shimmered blue and breathed out some blue flames. As if it could sense no trouble, your Patronus gently landed on top of a bookshelf to quietly rest before fading away.

“Impressive,” you heard Neville murmur. 

“Thanks for the demonstration, (Y/N),” Harry praised you. Turning back to everyone else, he smiled encouragingly. “Alright, let’s all give it a try! Don’t feel discouraged if you can’t get it the first few tries, the Patronus Charm is one of the most advanced forms of magic.”

Once everyone was dismissed to give the spell a try on their own, you felt someone nudge you.

“I didn’t know your Patronus would be a dragon,” Hermione commented. “Its impressive! I thought most Patronuses would be normal animals.”

You smiled. “Thanks. To be honest, I didn’t expect it to be a dragon either. According to the advanced charms textbooks, most Patronuses do take the form of ordinary animals, but there are rare exceptions of magical creatures and extinct animals being Patronuses.”

The brunette listened you eagerly, absorbing the information.

While Hermione definitely showed the intelligence of a typical Ravenclaw, you noticed her courage and bravery appeared to be her drive towards her desire for know. Perhaps being in Gryffindor was her true calling.

“What was your happiest memory, (Y/N)?” Hermione asked, eyes twinkling. “I get the feeling something special must have happened for you to produce a dragon as your Patronus.”

Hermione’s observant was astounding. Her speculation had you blushing as you recalled your happiest moments.

7 YEARS AGO...

“Draco, are you sure we should be outside?”

You tiredly rubbed your (E/C) eyes as you felt your best friend pulling you eagerly after him. Grey eyes flickered over to you with un-containable excitement as he tried to hurry you along.

“Don’t worry (Y/N)! I told my mother and she said it would be okay as long as we don’t go too far away,” he replied. 

The last thing you expected when you were about to go to bed on your vacation with the Malfoy family was for Draco to drag you out into the grassy meadow. Accepting your delayed sleep, you did your best to keep up with the blonde boy as he kept a firm hold on your hand.

Once the two of you arrived in the middle of the grassy meadow and the house you were staying in was a small glow in the distance, Draco set out a blanket.

“Come on, lie down here with me,” Draco said, patting the blanket.

You sat down next to Draco before leaning back. The moment your head made contact with the ground, your (E/C) eyes widen at the sight above you.

The endless amount of sky stretching over you was sparkling with billions of stars. The sight was so beautiful, you could help but reach out to grasp back onto Draco’s hand.

Seeing your excited face was worth the late night trip, Draco decided, as he gently squeezed your hand. When he had heard about the wonderful night view this place offered, he knew he wanted to experience it with you.

When turned back to the sky, something caught his eye.

“(Y/N), look!”

Your eyes caught sight of the pale blue dragon’s figure as it flew overhead. The moonlight made it sparkle and paired with the stars, this night made everything seem so... magical.

Blinking out of your thoughts, you could only offer a weak smile to Hermione’s question. “Yeah, it is a special memory, one that I think I’ll never be able to re-experience with our current situation.”

Noticing the change in your behavior, the Gryffindor girl left it at that before practicing the charm on her own. 

The rest of the session passed by rather quickly as you moved around the room like Harry to help the other DA members. When Hermione and Harry approached you about the formation of a group to practice defensive magical skills to combat Lord Voldemort and his Death Eaters, you were instantly on board. With how useless Umbridge made Defense Against the Dark Arts, how could you not?

Being an advanced student, most of what Harry intended to teach was something you were already aware of, but you agreed to take part as it was good practice and a nice break from your ongoing studies along with research projects with Snape.

When the time came for the session to end, you felt someone grab your elbow.

“What’s up, Harry?” you asked.

The brown haired boy offered you a soft smile. “Everything okay?”

“Yeah,” you brushed off. “How are you and Cho doing? Happy?”

Harry nodded. “Are you though?”

You froze. “What do you mean?”

Harry adjust his glasses before hopping up to sit on a desk. 

“It’s just... I’ve noticed you been a little off since the Umbridge showed up. Does it have to do with the Inquisitorial Squad?” 

While Harry was mentioning the Inquisitorial Squad, you knew he meant something else.

Draco.

Ever since meeting you, the Boy Who Lived knew there was a complex relationship between you and the Slytherin Prince. Even though it looked like no relationship ever existed between the two of you.

“Maybe,” you vaguely replied. “I’m just worried.” Turning to leave, you threw one last look at Harry. “Watch out for the Inquisitorial Squad while you can, Harry. They’re willing to dock points anywhere they can.”

With that, you took off to the Astronomy Tower. Sleep was more than welcome to you right now.

“The Inquisitorial Squad is coming!”

The shrill voice of Dobby made everyone panic. As Harry, Ron and Hermione tried to usher everyone off, they knew there was no escaping Umbridge. 

You sighed, knowing the past few months of peaceful training was bound to end.

Hearing how Marietta was the one to betray the group didn’t surprise you. Marietta was always one of those Ravenclaws who reacted out of fear - backstabbing simply wasn’t part of her nature.

“Come on, (Y/N)! Let’s go!”

Hearing the urges of the remaining DA members who still needed to escape, you immediately hopped into action after them. 

“There they are! Capture them!”

The sound of your pursuers made the members divide up. Making a different turn than everyone else, you heard the footsteps of the Inquisitorial Squad members split up as well.

Eyes darting around the hallway, you tried to remember the next turn for a staircase. You barely had time to think as the footsteps behind you accelerated.

A hand suddenly grabbed you, spinning you around.

Grey eyes met your (E/C) ones and left you stunned.

Draco seemed just as surprised as you were as he quickly looked around before pushing you back until your back hit a wall. With the curtains providing some cover, he leaned forward with a scowl.

“You were part of Potter’s group too?” he asked. As much as his voice was frightening, you could place another emotion in his tone - fear.

“I am,” you replied. Keeping your eyes cast aside, you hoped that Draco couldn’t tell you were actually hiding your true feelings. “You’re going to bring me back to Umbridge, aren’t you? I’m sure she’ll be proud of you, Malfoy.”

Biting his lip, Draco felt his heart break when you addressed him that way. Of course you wouldn’t make his job easy. He should have known you would be part of any group that rebelled Umbridge. You were growing more independent, he definitely admired that.

But now was not the time.

“Why?”

His simple question made you pause. Why?

“What do you mean?” you quietly asked.

Why do you make it so hard for me to protect you? Draco had to hold his tongue as he leaned in closer to you. “Why can’t you just sit back and stay out of trouble?”

His warm breath tickled your cheek, but you refused to back down as your (E/C) eyes flared up and met his grey eyes directly. 

“Why do you keep putting all this distance between us? Did I do something wrong?” you demanded as your eyes teared up. “There’s a war brewing, Draco, and I don’t want to lose you before it even starts!”

The walls that the two of you worked so hard to build up seemed to crumble away instantly as you both realized your proximity. While there was still so much between the two of you left unspoken, neither of you could deny the pull toward the other.

Draco raised his hand to gently trace your cheek before pulling you close for a kiss. Instantly, your eyes fluttered shut as you returned his soft kiss. A single tear managed to escape, trailing down your cheek.  Even though there were so many other problems you both needed to deal with, this stolen moment was too precious, too important to let go.

When Draco pulled away, he brushed a strand of your (H/C) hair back and then wiped away your tears. The way he held onto you made you feel like glass.

Perhaps you would shatter without him. 

“You’re perfect, (Y/N),” he whispered. “I’m sorry... for everything. I need you to stay safe, okay?”

“That means stay away from you, doesn’t it?”

Draco slowly nodded. “I’m... so sorry, (Y/N).”

Pressing a kiss to your forehead, he stepped back.

“Get back to your common room. I need to get back to Umbridge.”

You hesitated but nodded when you saw the urgency in his eyes. Just as you took a few steps, you turned back around.

“I love you,” you confessed. 

Watching your retreating form, Draco felt his heart race as he thought of the words that couldn’t leave his lips.

I love you too.

7 YEARS AGO...

“Thanks for showing me this view, Draco,” you whispered as you two were heading back. “It was so pretty!”

“Anything for you, (Y/N),” Draco replied with a bright smile.

You stopped in your tracks, trying to think of a way to return the kind gesture. The blonde haired boy turned around to look at you curiously.

“(Y/N)?”

With a idea, you bound forward and gently kissed Draco. When you pulled back, both of you were flushed pink.

Your first kiss.

“What was that for...?” Draco asked, dazed.

“To thank you,” you replied softly. “Did you not like it...?”

The boy immediately shook his head. 

“No! I liked it. Just like how I like you, (Y/N).”