#plaster powder bath

[kanehopkins]

Transitional Home Office in Houston Large transitional freestanding desk medium tone wood floor and brown floor study room photo with gray walls

[yudori]

Open Houston Family room: large transitional open concept family room idea with gray walls, a brick fireplace, a standard fireplace, and a tv stand.

[napleonsolo]

Living Room Formal Houston An illustration of a mid-sized transitional formal living room with gray walls and a medium tone wood floor.

[cumbersir]

Houston Dining Room Enclosed Idea for an enclosed dining room with a large transitional light wood floor and a brown floor and gray walls

[editorsdecisionlist]

Transitional Family Room Houston Inspiration for a large transitional open concept light wood floor and brown floor family room remodel with gray walls, a standard fireplace, a brick fireplace and a tv stand

[wearetatal]

Transitional Kitchen Example of a large transitional l-shaped light wood floor and brown floor eat-in kitchen design with a farmhouse sink, recessed-panel cabinets, light wood cabinets, marble countertops, white backsplash, ceramic backsplash, paneled appliances, an island and black countertops

[legendasalvatoris]

Transitional Family Room (Houston)

[glassclosetcastiel]

Transitional Entry - Mudroom Gray walls and mid-sized transitional wallpaper in the mudroom

[what-should-we-call-1d]

Houston Transitional Family Room Example of a large transitional enclosed family room design with gray walls

[kid-crayon]

Transitional Entry - Mudroom Gray walls and mid-sized transitional wallpaper in the mudroom

[milkbobatyun]

perfect, but not for me

pairing: dr ratio x reader

genre: angst

summary: they saw the two of you as perfect. you both were, but the aeons did not make you for each other

word count: 1k

a/n: inspired by the hozier song 'too sweet', i highly recommend you listen to it while reading this! the only reason why i haven't posted in ages is cus it's exam season for me right now, and i've got pretty important ones that will determine my future so im putting that as priority for now!

in the eyes of the scholars at the intelligentsia guild, you and veritas ratio were the perfect couple. your love story was one out of a romance storybook, childhood love, who were polar opposites, the epitome of sunshine and grumpy. they didn’t see how the honeymoon period was waning, how you were struggling to keep up the happy façade.

you saw the world through rose-tinted glasses, your head always lost in the clouds. you were a dreamer, enjoying life to its fullest. yet, veritas ratio was different. he saw the world in its black and white, ugly, organic form. he stepped through life with a logical mind, silently analysing every glance and gesture, as though looking at an equation only his practised eyes could see.

you loved staying up late at night, relishing in the faint glow of warmth from your lamp, illuminating your desk as your mind wandered, drawing ideas from the world around you. some days, you stayed up till the dark, bejewelled night gave way to milky dawns, some nights you slept early. your life was a combination of sporadic bursts of energy.

veritas valued order and routine over everything else. you could recite his schedule off the top of your head: an hour-long bath after work, evenings spent huddled at his desk, grading papers, a helping hand at dinner before he curls up in a nearby chair, nose buried in his book. all this was executed with clockwork precision. once the clock hit 9, veritas would turn to bed, his alarm forever set up for an early awakening.

you loved to douse your coffee in sugar and milk, while veritas could feel the tooth-ache just from watching you spoon the white powder into your milky coffee. he often joked that normal people had coffee with a splash of milk, while you had milk with a splash of coffee.

unlike you, he drank his coffee black, with no add-ins and a straight face. yours scrunched up with displeasure as you imagined the bitter liquid running down your throat.

despite your differences, you still had similarities. the two of you were stupidly devoted to your work. 

you savoured any moment you had to sketch, a notebook and pencil never leaving your hands. new ideas flowed from your fingertips. your mind was a never-ending fountain of imagination. there was never a day when the other scholars saw you without a pencil stuck behind your ear or glued to the paper you always carried.

on the other hand, veritas was practically married to mathematics. he held a strong passion for teaching the arithmetic subject, nose always buried in a book, his mind busy gnawing away at a new maths problem.

even with your similarities, there were times in your relationship when you struggled living with and loving such a logical man.

when the nights were sleepy, the quiet seemed to hang, like a thick blanket over the two of you, only broken by the swish of pages turning. you doodled a new design for his plaster head absentmindedly in your notebook. your hands itched to show him, but you could guess his answer: a small, polite smile and nod. he would mutter some surface level praise, before turning back to his book.

before, his quiet praise and small, rare smile made your breath hitch and your face flame. now, it left you feeling desolate and hopeless, like an artist staring at their piece, trying to work out what went wrong.

“why don’t you ever clean up?” veritas’ voice broke through the quiet ambience of the house, his gaze fixated on the papers, piled haphazardly upon your desk, sketches and prototypes littering the floor. his brows were furrowed with distaste, hands pinching at his nose bridge in exasperation.

“i do,” you protested, though guilt and shame was evident on your face. “it’s just…i get inspiration.” you meekly finished.

veritas’ sigh of disappointment made your stomach drop and your heart clench. “no wonder you never get anything done.” veritas’ voice was clipped, “chaos doesn’t ever breed results.”

lately, the air in the house felt stifling, choking the life out of your lives. around the reviered dr ratio, you felt like you were walking on eggshells. everything he said pushed a button in you, and everything you did seemed to piss him off.

he supressed the urge to snap at you every time another prototype found its way into his slipper, while you swallowed back every sharp retort on your tongue. he didn’t understand you. inspiration wasn’t orderly, it was messy, bursts of energy—unpredictable and fleeting.

every word he spoke, no matter how well-meaning, felt like an attack. veritas really had a way with words. it wasn’t what he said, but the disappointment and annoyance that subtly laced his words, their sharpness striking deep into every weakness. you tried to understand his logic, but it was like trying to touch the clouds. you could see it, but no matter how far you tried to stretch, it slipped through your fingers, dancing just out of reach before dissolving into a mystery you would never be able to unravel.

it truly amazed the both of you how long it took for you to realise that this wasn’t going to work. you were simply too different from each other. holding onto this relationship was like trying to jam two pieces of a puzzle together, even when they didn’t fit. the more you tried to make the fit, the more the edges frayed, the corners becoming worn down. the picture blurred, its picturesque scene warped into an unrecognisable smear of colour.

you were as wonderful as an angel sent from heaven, soaring with your head in the clouds, and he was as perfect as a greek statue, steadfast and steady. perfection in your own ways but so different from each other. soft features were not enough to bend marble, no matter how tightly you held on. love, as powerful as it was, could only go so far.

taglist (open): @leehanscorydora, @pastelmitzuki

∧,,,∧ ( ̳• · • ̳)  © curated with love by milkbobayun 2024 / づ ♡

[goldenamaranthe-blog]

Puppy Fight: Chaggie ft. Emily

Puppy Love part 3 / Jazzercise part 2

Charlie: (hyping herself up and shadow boxing as she walks into the new hotel gym) Alright! I got this! I've been working on my cardio. Just a few more sessions before- *SCREEEEEEEEEECH!!!!*

Vaggie: (wearing even shorter spandex shorts than last time, wrist wraps, and her sports bra, grunting as she works through a set of Muscle Ups, body absolutely slick with sweat) Eighteen!!!..... Gah, fuck! .......Nineteen!!!

Emily: (hair tied up in a messy bun, powder blue, long sleeve, skin tight exercise shirt, and navy blue shorts that cut off just below her glutes) Come on, Vaggie! You got this! One more!

Vaggie: (takes a deep breath, scowls as she grits her teeth, and nearly roars as she muscles her way up and over the bar into a full extension) Twenty!!!

Emily: (jumps and squeals excitedly) Woohoo! You did it! (makes another check on a whiteboard) That's three rounds of twenty muscle ups, fifty mountain climbers, and 100 jump-ropes!

Vaggie: (drops to the floor with a sigh, wipes her face with her black sweat rag, and takes a drink of water) Thanks for helping me push through, Emily. I was kind of surprised you even showed up. Charlie didn't have another group exercise planned for a couple more days when the next meeting with Heaven came up.

Emily: (staring bashfully at Vaggie's muscles) Oh! Well, you know! I figured it would be good to come down early! You know. Catch up with Charlie. (eyes scour over Vaggie's abs and shoulders) See the sights.

Vaggie: (suddenly feeling a little naked) Riiiiiiiiight.... Well, I'm gonna go hit the showers. Thanks again for the help. (quickly jogs towards the door and stops as she sees Charlie) Hey, Babe! I didn't know you were going to be working out today. You should have said something. I would have waited for you. (shifts her eye back at Emily)

Emily: (awkwardly looks around to make sure she isn't being watched before she sneakily takes the sweat rag Vaggie left behind)

Vaggie: (whispering back to Charlie with a slight blush and a wink) We could have shared a shower after.

Charlie: (heart throbs painfully) Dammit! How did I not think of that before now?!

Vaggie: (chuckles before kissing Charlie lightly on the cheek) Another time. I'll be sure to save you some hot water. Love you. (slips through the door and jogs up to their room)

Charlie: Love you too~ (eyes dart to Emily as soon as the door closes and she zips over to the pull up bars with a smile painfully plastered on her face) Hi, Emily!

Emily: Yipe! (jumps and hides Vaggie's rag behind her back) Oh! H-Hi, Charlie! H-How are you?

Charlie: I'm good. I'm good. (obviously not good as her tail slithers along the floor behind her like a snake ready to strike) I wasn't expecting to see you for a few days.

Emily: Oh! Yeah, well, l-like I told Vaggie. I figured I'd come down a little early so we could catch up!

Charlie: (sickly sweet tone) Well, what better way to catch up and build a bond than by exercising together?! (wraps an arm around Emily's shoulder tightly and leads her over to the treadmills) How about it, Emily? I'm sure you guys up in Heaven exercise all the time!

Emily: (balks) Actually, Charlie, I'm suddenly not feeling the greatest. I think I got teleportation sickness.

Charlie: Then a light jog should help you get that good airflow that you need. (pushes Emily on a treadmill and takes the one right next to her before turning them both on and ramping up the incline and speed to 5/10 and 6/10) This should be a good warmup, right?

Emily: eeep!

-Later-

Charlie: (sitting and soaking her dead legs in an ice bath with a whine-growl)

Vaggie: (brings in a protein shake and hands it to Charlie) And what did we learn?

Charlie: (growling and baring her teeth like an angry puppy as she takes the shake) To mark every last inch of your skin the week Emily arrives. (all sad and sappy) She's still my friend! (back to snarling as she takes a sip of her drink) But she needs to remember that you're MINE!!!

Vaggie: (blushing) ......Did I completely miss something?

-In one of the guest rooms-

Emily: (whimpering as she soaks her noodle legs in a hot bath) Owie.... (stares at the sweat rag on the bathroom sink) ......*sigh* Worth it. I'll have to apologize to Charlie later. I think she liked those rainbow sprinkles back in Heaven.

[hometoursandotherstuff]

Dean's Haunted Mansion in Fort Gaines, GA is back on the market. It was originally available with everything in it, plus a hearse. It didn't sell, so they cleaned it up, took all the spooky things out, and are selling it as a house. The 1900 home has 6bds, 4ba, and it's been reduced from $400K to $290K.

They still have the hearse, all the props and a trailer, so they're available to purchase separately, should the new owner want to keep it as a haunted house attraction or haunted B&B.

This is what the home used to look like before they turned it into a haunted attraction.

They emptied it, but left it as-is. Why do I have the feeling that this home was beautifully kept inside. I mean, look at the how the exterior was.

Oddly, this powder room has a fireplace. I don't think it was originally a bathroom.

It looks like it was a stick Victorian. Look at this fireplace. It's going to take some work to restore it. Looks like they put some plaster on the wall to the left.

This looks like a bedroom.

Found some photos from the original listing: This is how the house looked. They had a haunted doll room in one of the bedrooms.

If this was the kitchen, it's been torn out to make this room, and it's not shown on the listing. So, it would take a lot to restore the house, if it needs a kitchen.

"A new relic for the Mansion, 1800s wheelchair from a Sanitarium in Indiana. Previous owner says it has a spirit attachment, and believe a man died in the chair, for they see him time to time slumped over staring at them, not moving no expression just staring!" (From 2021.)

Also part of the collection: "That sconce on the wall there was just found deep in the woods. The scary thing is the haunting energy rolling off this Mirror/Sconce. Mirrors act as portals, and this one inside this Gothic Vessel of Hauntedness is absolutely a doorway for the other side!," said Dean.

"A new set I designed inside Dean's Haunted Mansion for the 2022 Haunt Season." All of this would be available to buy.

Here's a full bath that's very vintage.

And, this bedroom is cute.

Props include things that they redid, like this hand.

The large 2nd fl. front porch.

.83 acre lot.

https://www.zillow.com/homedetails/106-Washington-St-N-Fort-Gaines-GA-39851/105187323_zpid/

[charliemwrites]

could we please get some sweet Gaz fluff/comfort like scientist is too exhausted to shower after a long day so Gaz joins her and cleans her instead, washing her hair, etc while she stands there half asleep

Yes I can! I think this is something that happens often for them.

(Also - not that you’ve offended me or anything - but I’ve been using ‘they’ for the researcher out of inclusivity. That said! If you see researcher/yourself with she/her pronouns, that’s so so valid. I’ll just be a writing using they/them)

They’ve been awake for going on 29? 30? Hours. Too long. Way too long. Gaz couldn’t even pull them away because it was a big project that the brass was putting a lot of pressure on getting down. Final tests are finished now though, and he’s finally able to pry them away from the lab.

He takes them to their room, wishes he could just send them to bed right away. But they’re covered in gun powder, ash, pen ink, metal dust and..,, he shudders to think of what else. But they’ll need to bathe before climbing in. They hate feeling dirty when they wake up.

“Tired,” they groan, leaning into him.

“I know, chickadee. Just this last thing…”

Getting them to their tiny bathroom is its own struggle but they look genuinely miserable about trying to clean themselves up. Gaz scritches a hand through their oily, dirty hair.

“You mind if I help?”

They look up at him with stars in their eyes. “Please do.”

He’s careful and respectful as he strips them down, half holding them up as they lean into him. He gets the water right and carefully guides them in. Lets them get their footing, then strips himself down.

They make grabby hands at him, plaster themselves to his front with a happy little sigh. “Tired,” they mumble again.

“I know, luv,” he replies, “almost down.”

They’re blessedly pliant as he soaps their hair and scrubs them down. Usually showers are a perfunctory thing they do as quickly as possible to get to the next thing - either sleep or more work (or sometimes private time with Gaz). Right now, though, he’s able to take a little extra time to press his thumbs into the tense muscles of their neck, the tired tendons in their clever hands, the exhausted muscles in their lower back.

They make little sleepy noises of appreciation, eyes barely open as they nearly slip off him. Gaz doesn’t even bother with himself. All he’s down the last two days is stand nearby and try to remind them to eat and drink. All the brushing up against him that they’re doing is plenty.

They stir a bit when the water turns off, mumbling his name.

“‘S alright chickadee,” he murmurs, helping them out. “Just gotta get you dried off.”

They hum, rub at their overworked eyes. “You staying?”

“If you’ll have me.”

“Mhmm.”

He gently buffers them dry, drops kisses here and there while they sway on their feet. Good enough, he thinks when they start to list to the side.

He tucks them in together, lets them burrow in against his side and wrap their limbs around his.

“Love you, Ky,” the mumble.

His heart skips. “Love you too.”

[froggy-fizz]

[ starter for the beautiful, amazing, show-stopping @boszbichblitzo ]

Navigating the bustling, noisy, streets of the Pride-Ring it was near impossible to avoid flyers for the all-imp circus: stuck haphazardly onto lampposts and crumpled underfoot, they were everywhere. All bold lettering, promises of a night of awe-filled wonder, and plastered with the grinning face of an imp in a jester hat. Stifled by the shadow of its tragic history, the circus was, uh…well, let’s just say, business had been better. The horrifying fire had been a bit of a buzz-kill, and even as the years passed, there were only really two pieces of common knowledge about the circus: 1.) It’s that circus where the awful, horrific, tragedy happened. 2.) It’s the circus that has Fizzarolli!~ Look, the jester found the praise undeniably gratifying, especially considering the nerve-wracking nature of his return to performing after gaining a whole set of prosthetic limbs but, well, Fizz just wished it didn’t always feel like he was single-handedly responsible for clawing back their audience. He wasn’t a miracle worker! He was a performer. A fucking good one, but still, it turns out that rainbow confetti, unholy amounts of glitter, insane layers of stage-makeup and general razzmatazz could only do so much to cover up the tragedies of the past.

Days off were rare and even when they presented themself, Fizz exclusively used them to practice the skills he hadn’t yet mastered since getting his prosthetics. There was a soft mechanical whirring as Fizz took the long balloon in his robotic hands. Bathed in the glimmering warmth of the lights of the big top, he began to attempt to twist the skinny balloon into shape, his forked tongue poking out the corner of his mouth in pure, unshakable, focus. With a loud squeak, the balloon slipped through his metal fingers and floated gently down to the floor beside him, still infuriatingly sausage shaped. “You slippery little fucker!” he admonished as he clasped his hands around the rubber tube once more. Come on, how hard could this be? He used to be a fucking balloon animal making legend. His hands may be robotic now but the brain doesn’t forget! Taking a slow breath, being more delicate this time, he twisted at the balloon in an attempt to make a simple horse — his heart soared as he managed to twist and turn until something began taking shape. When he was done, however, his heart skipped a beat. There, resting in his hands, was a half-formed horse missing his legs. That, all-too-familiar, feeling of forming tears began to sting his eyes. Against his will, a hot tear rolled down his cheek. Fizz’s teary eyes darted around wildly to the other circus performers that were milling around the tent in a panic, making sure that no one had seen him falter. Cash would be so angry. It was ungrateful for him to be upset after everything the man had done for him. Plus, no one wanted to see him upset. He was the face of the circus. The success story. The bright, unfaltering, smile. The hope for a better, richer, future. Fizz clambered unsteadily to his feet. Holding that dumb fucking balloon animal tight to his chest, he scurried off to the isolation of his dressing room.

The jester practically threw his failed attempt of a horse onto his vanity. Which was…unsatisfying, consider how it merely bounced of the mirror and floated peacefully to sit among his makeup. The prosthetics of his hands let out a small, electric, spark of protest at how hard he grasped at the edge of the hardwood table, staring straight into the eyes of his reflection. Fizz took a steadying breath, or twelve, then slumping down unceremoniously into his chair — he picked up a stray powder puff and tapped it onto his face where the tear had left a streak in his otherwise flawless makeup. “I know you’re a clown but fuuuuck…seriously Fizz?” he chastised the beautiful idiot in the mirror, wrapping his mechanical fingers around a lipstick before dabbing it against his lips gently. Blitzo was a piece of shit that’d burnt down the circus, left him to die in the flames, and then not had the nerve to show his face ever since. “…waste of a perfectly good make-up look, if ya ask me…” Fizz had spent far too much time that morning colour-coordinating his eye shadow to the cute baby blue crop top he was wearing to ruin his hard work over a ghost.

[maddiwrites]

The Daughter

Summary: Enemies to lovers, Weasley x Lestrange. Linked is a more descriptive summary with author's notes (: Warnings: None Chapter One can be found here.

Chapter Two: Fred lounged on the couch by the bookshelf in the Gryffindor Common Room, tossing a hacky sack over his head lazily. He was surrounded by his siblings George, Ron, and Ginny, his best friend, Lee Jordan, and Ron’s friends Harry and Hermione.

Hermione was trying to cheer Harry up after being teased by Draco and his idiot friends who follow him around like a bunch of groupies. Harry was already embarrassed about fainting in front of his friends, and he couldn’t stand the idea of the other students at Hogwarts knowing about it. Especially the Slytherins.

“Harry, you heard Professor Dumbledore. You’re lucky you got off with only fainting,” Hermione said, rubbing her best friend’s back. “It could have been much worse.”

“Yeah, but Malfoy won’t ever see it that way,” Harry scowled. 

“Malfoy’s a git,” Ron said with a mouthful of chocolate frogs he stole from the Great Hall. “Hey, who was that girl who told him quit it?”

Fred sat up. “That would be Kyrie Lestrange. She’s in our year and an even bigger tyrant than her cousin, Malfoy.”

“They’re cousins?” Ron asked. 

“Yeah, haven’t you heard of her mother?” George said. When he read the confused faces of the kids in front of him, he grinned. “Her name is Bellatrix Lestrange, one of the most loyal followers of You-Know-Who. She’s locked up in Azkaban with the other psycho Death Eaters. If you think this Sirius Black guy is mad, who, by the way, is Bellatrix’s cousin, you should be lucky it’s not Lestrange’s face plastered all over the Daily Prophet.”

“Draco and Kyrie are both related to most violent murderers in Azkaban?” Hermione asked. 

“Correct, Granger,” Fred smirked at the bushy haired girl. He felt a certain kind of satisfaction when he was able to tell her something she didn’t know. Hermione was one of the smartest witches at Hogwarts. There wasn’t much that she didn’t already know. “Bet you never get tired of hearing that.”

Hermione stuck her tongue out at the boy she considered to be like an older brother to her. 

Harry’s brows furrowed and silently thought back to when he first met Kyrie Lestrange. It was when he first used floo powder to go to Diagon Alley to shop for this year’s books with the Weasleys. However, he somehow got rerouted to Borgin and Burkes in Knockturn Alley, and he had no idea of the kind of dangers that lurked in that dark corner.

Knockturn Alley was dark and filled with people who looked like they haven’t smiled or seen the light of day in ten years. Harry genuinely felt scared in that part of town and his fear seemed to attract the wizards and witches who lurked there…who also haven’t seen a bath in ten years either. 

“Not lost are you are my dear,” A witch grabbed him by the collar, bringing him closer to her foul breath, her yellow teeth peeking out through her smirk. When he turned, he was cornered by five other witches and wizards. There was nowhere to run. That same witch grabbed his shoulder again. “Come with us. We’ll help you find your way back.”

“No,” Harry said weakly. 

He felt like he was on the verge of a heart attack when he heard his name.

“Harry, I’ve been looking for you.” A girl around his age with pink streaks in her hair descended the stairs of the alley. Harry didn’t recognize her he but in that moment, he couldn’t care less. He saw the way the witches and wizards stepped away from him as she got closer. There was a glint of excitement in her eyes, like she knew the effect that she had on these ghastly people. “I know you bums having nothing better to do than prey on little kids but at least be more subtle about it.” She looked back at the boy with a smile. “Come on Harry. I saw a group of red heads this way.”

Harry swallowed but nodded enthusiastically. He had about a dozen questions but didn’t know which one to ask first. 

When they were finally far enough away from the others, she said, “You know Harry, a boy like you stands out in Knockturn Alley. You should be more careful where you walk alone.”

“Who are you?”

The girl rolled her eyes playfully. “I think you mean to say ‘thank you.’”

“Right. Thanks.���

She grinned. “No problem. My name’s Kyrie.”

“Harry, but you already knew that.”

“Of course. Who in the wizarding world hasn’t heard of the infamous Harry Potter?” She said. Harry clenched his teeth. He was tired of everyone knowing who he was. He felt like a fish in fish bowl. “Look, we’ll keep this between us. Okay?”

“Why? You’re clearly a Slytherin,” Harry said, nodding towards the serpent embroidered on the notebook in her hands. “You know I’m in Gryffindor. You’re not going to tell anyone to embarrass me?”

“No, I won’t tell. Scouts honor,” Kyrie held up her hand. “Besides, I already have enough Gryffindors on my list to waste my time with. I don’t feel the need to add another one, honestly.”

“Harry!” A deep voice called from behind her. They both turned and found the friendly Giant, Hagrid, trudging over to them. They were still close enough to Knockturn Alley to cause suspicion and Hagrid was smarter than most people made him out to be. “What are you doing over here? You shouldn’t be here.”

“I got lost. I was just –“

“Harry saw me with those group of losers and noticed how uncomfortable I was, so he helped me out of there. That’s all,” Kyrie said.

Hagrid narrowed his eyes. “And what were you doing down there?”

“Window shopping,” She shrugged and winked at the Giant. “I should go. It was nice meeting you, Harry.”

Kyrie walked away. 

Hagrid waited for her to disappear completely when Hagrid said, “You don’t want to be seen in Knockturn Alley, Harry. People will think you’re up to no good.”

“I was –“

“I know you didn’t find Kyrie, Harry. Kyrie found you. Isn’t that right?” Hagrid said. Harry looked at his shoes feeling embarrassed. “I know that girl better than she thinks I do. It doesn’t take much to scare her, especially not those kinds of people who hang out down there. It was sweet of her to try and convince me otherwise, though.”

Yeah, Harry thought, it was sweet. 

Harry didn’t understand why the girl he met in Knockturn Alley sounded so different than the one the twins were describing now. Especially now that he knew she shared the same DNA as Draco Malfoy.

Despite his curiosity, he decided to keep his encounter with Kyrie Lestrange to himself. Today was a long day between traveling back to Hogwarts and trying to avoid the Dementors. The last thing he wanted to do was spend his time talking about the Slytherins. 

Fred, however, noticed Harry’s blank gaze, clearly distracted by something running through his mind, and he couldn’t help but feel intrigued. “Where’d you just go, Harry?”

“Huh? Nowhere?” Harry hid his reddened cheeks in his hand. 

“Are you gonna be okay, Harry?” Hermione asked, standing up.

Harry nodded.

“Come on, Fred. We’ve got a little more brainstorming to do. We don’t want our first week to be dull now, do we?” George said with a teasing smirk.

Lee laughed, clapping his hands in excitement, and the three of them disappeared into their dorms, where a list of pranks was already being comprised.

Fred and George walked into the dungeons where their Potions class was held every year. Most of their classmates were already seated with their choice in Potions partners, whispering softly amongst themselves. 

George tapped Fred on the arm and pointed to two seats on the right-hand side of the classroom. They were in the third row, which for the twins, wasn’t ideal, but if they wanted to be partners, it was going to have to do. The only other option was the two seats on the left-hand side, but that’s where all the Slytherins were sitting, and they would rather stand for the entire lesson than be anywhere near those gits. 

About a minute later, Kyrie Lestrange and her best friend Cedrella Copplestone walked in arm in arm. Fred couldn’t help but notice how most heads turned their way. The boys in the class smirked and bumped shoulders with one another while the girls either looked on with envy or intimidation.

It wasn’t any secret that Lestrange and her girl friends were some of the most attractive females in their year. Hell, possibly in the whole school. Like most of the boys here, Fred fell victim to trailing Lestrange’s legs up to her shorter-than-was-allowed skirt, images that he would never dare to share flashing through his head. He’s heard the crude comments other have made, which made Fred realize pretty early on that he wasn’t the only one with those images in his head. 

But despite her extraordinary good looks, Lestrange was still…Lestrange. Conceited, bold, rude, manipulative, and provoking… And her friends were no different. 

“Hey,” Cedric Diggory, a fifth year Hufflepuff, waved to Kyrie and Cedrella. “Over here.”

Kyrie smirked and sat in the aisle seat of the table next to Cedric’s and his partner, Justin Gilbert. 

Fred and George scoffed at the interaction, mostly because they liked Cedric, and they didn’t want him falling into the trap of Kyrie Lestrange and her groupies. 

“How was your summer?” Cedric asked her. 

Kyrie leaned in closer with her elbows on her table. “Mundane.” She replied. She didn’t see her best friend roll her eyes behind her. “And yours? Practicing for quidditch I presume?” Her eyes scanned over Cedric’s upper body. His jawline was sharper, his hair longer, and his arms more toned. Cedric was older for his grade with his birthday falling on September 1st. The first day of school year. So he was already seventeen. And for some reason, that made him even more desirable to the Slytherin girl. 

“Mundane, huh Lestrange?” Fred said from across the room, catching the attention of every other student in the class. He leaned back in the stool he was sitting with a smirk and his arms crossed. “I’d hardly find helping your Dear ‘Ol Uncle Black escape Azkaban mundane.”

Kyrie narrowed her eyes. “Weasley, you never seem to surprise me. Just when I thought your brain couldn’t be any smaller…”

“I mean it makes sense, doesn’t it?” Fred said, the faces around him turning from intrigued to apprehensive. “Why else would he escape if he didn’t already have a plan to reunite with his family and finish what he started – what with You-Know-Who’s name becoming a common topic of conversation again amongst your kind.” 

“Maybe because it’s Azkaban, you git. No one wants to be there,” Kyrie retorted.

Fred’s smirk grew, knowing he was getting under her skin. “Well, you would know that better than anyone else, wouldn’t you, Lestrange?”

“Yeah, rumor has it you’re the first witch to be granted a visiting pass into Azkaban. Tell me, does she look as awful as her mug shot picture? Is she as crazy as everyone says?” George added earning a chuckle from Fred. 

Fred watched Kyrie’s jaw sharpen as she clenched her teeth together. Next to her, Cedric kept his head down, avoiding looking at both the twins and Kyrie, suddenly finding the quill in front of him very fascinating. He was never one for confrontation unless absolutely necessary. Much like the rest of Hufflepuffs, he kept to himself, and avoided the ongoing feud between Gryffindors and Slytherins like the plague.

Cedrella leaned in closer to her best friend and glared at the ginger twins. “If her family was going to break anyone out of Azkaban, why would they start with Sirius and not her own mother?” 

“Maybe that’s their next move,” A Gryffindor sitting behind the twins said. 

“You better hope it’s not,” Cedrella said. “I heard Blood Traitors were her favorite –“

The Weasley twins jumped out of their seats, and Cedrella and Kyrie were quick to follow, stools scraping on the concrete floor. Instantly, the rest of the Gryffindors and Slytherin students stood at their desks. The houses were divided on opposite ends of the room. In the middle sat the Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaw students, who looked around warily, unsure if they should get out of the way or stay seated. 

Fred felt his blood boiling under his pale skin, his hand reaching for his wand in his pocket. He was used to Slytherins using his family against him, but it was mostly about their lack of money or his father’s obsession with muggle objects and inventions.

It was hard to get a reaction like this out of the twins, but when threats are made against their family…they’re ready to become lethal.

Cedric was the first non Gryffindor or Slytherin to stand. He turned to face Kyrie and lightly placed a hand on her arm, “Don’t. It’s not worth it.” He looked down and saw how white her knuckles were around her wand. 

“Sit. Down. Now,” A deep voice vibrated from the back of the room. No one moved an inch and no one took their eyes off the opposing house. “I said now!” White light flashed in the dark room and an abrupt force pushed the students in their seat, turning them forward. 

The students grunted and rubbed their stomachs and backs to ease the sharp pressure they had just felt.

“Typical Gryffindors. Nothing but a bunch of big mouths,” Cedrella muttered. 

Fred didn’t pay any attention to the lecture Professor Snape was giving about the importance of O.W.Ls and how he won’t accept anyone into Advance Potions next year without an Outstanding score. Instead, he was thinking of all the ways he was going to hex the Slytherins, focusing mostly on Lestrange and her friends. With the scowl on his brother’s face, Fred assumed George was thinking the same thing. 

“For next lesson, I want a detailed written essay about the potion you would use against your enemy, why you would choose that one, and what will go wrong when you inevitably concoct it incorrectly,” Snape said in his nasally voice, already laced with disappointment on the first day. 

At the mention of the word enemy, Kyrie and Fred looked up at each other, eyes narrowed in a glare. Then, a small grin tugged on the corners of Kyrie’s face and she had the audacity to wink at him, because she knew exactly what to do to drive him mad with irritation, always acting like she had the upper hand in their confrontations, pretending like she couldn’t be bothered by the insults that were constantly being thrown her way. 

And it worked every time. 

“Class dismissed,” Snape said. 

Fred didn’t even bother placing his books back into his bag. He just scooped everything into his arms, prepared to confront Lestrange again before she could disappear into the Slytherin Common Room, but Snape’s voice stopped him. 

“Miss Lestrange. A moment.” 

Fred glanced back at her, but the confusion written on her face made it clear that even Kyrie didn’t have an idea what it was that Snape wanted to discuss. She whispered something to her best friend, who walked out with a couple of other Slytherin students. 

“C’mon,” George said. “She’s not worth it.”

George looked her up and down in disgust as Kyrie passed them to meet Snape at his desk. Fred nodded and followed his brother out. 

Fred and George spent their night hexing the bathrooms near the Slytherin Common Room, causing the toilets to explode right before curfew. It wasn’t their most creative prank. In fact, they’ve done it once before in their first year at Hogwarts. But they were both so angry after Potions that it was the best they could come up with on such short notice. 

Despite their successful prank, Fred was still feeling sour after his encounter with the Slytherins during Potions. The threat Cedrella made still didn’t sit right with him, and Kyrie…Merlin he hated Kyrie. She was a self-absorbed cruel little brat. With her attitude, she was destined to take just after her mother – maybe even follow in her footsteps and share a cell in Azkaban.

“Look, she’s not worth all this energy, mate,” Lee said as they hung out in their dorms. “If you’re going to think about her this much, at least think of her…naked or something. Now, that doesn’t seem like a waste of time.”

Fred pulled his pillow out from under his head and chucked it at his best friend. 

“Not including the naked thing…” George said, walking from his desk to sit on the edge of his own bed, “but Lee is right. You can’t let her ruin our fifth year – at least not within the first week.”

“She threatened our family, George,” Fred sat up, glaring at his brother.

“Cedrella threatened our family with Bellatrix.”

“You’re seriously washing this over with semantics?”

“Of course not,” George said. “For all we know, Kyrie is gonna grow up to be just like her mother. But that girl is a lame excuse to attend all your thoughts to.”

“Unless you’re picturing her naked,” Lee said. 

George closed his eyes and dropped his chin to his chest. 

Fred rolled his eyes. “What do you supposed Snape wanted to talk to her about, anyway?” 

“He was probably telling her what to write her essay on. Everyone knows Snape gives extra attention to the Slytherins,” George said with a shrug.