#probably bellatrix would do this | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

suugarbabe · 4 months ago

Text

Origin Stories

(part 4)

summary: it's second year, and baby matty is hopeful that this year will be just as good as the last. what could screw up getting away from his home, being back with his friends, being with you and finally trying out for the quidditch team. probably the chamber re-opening.

warnings: some classic magic child abuse, angst, hurt but comfort, sad baby matty, and draco being a dick

an: as always thank you to my love @musingsofahufflepuff for his magnificent idea contributions, helping me edit, our constant yaps to help build the story & helping motivate me <33; yes there is another part, there will always be more

You had convinced your parents to get you to the platform about half an hour sooner than they did the year before. They had heard you drone on and on about your friend Mattheo all summer and how important it was that you get the same car.

“It’s tradition mum, I can’t break it! I need to make sure I get it for us,” you gave your mum a big squeeze and she hugged you close. Your dad gave you a brief hug as well and then you headed on to the train.

You made your way down the aisle of the train, passing multiple open cars on your way. You entered the last compartment, walking up to the second to last door on your left.

Opening it swiftly you nearly jumped, not expecting someone to be in there. Hand on your chest you breathed deeply, “Salazar’s sake, Matty you scared me.” Mattheo continued to look out the window, chin seemingly sitting on his fist and elbow on the armrest of the seat, “Sorry.”

You sat down next to him, digging into your pants pocket, “I got you some fizzing whizzbees..” You pulled the packet of sweets out and sat down next to him. You held the packet towards him, “They’re still your favorite right?”

Mattheo turned towards you, his head still down, “Yeah, they’re still my favorite.” You handed them over gently, “Are you mad at me or something?” Your brain instantly went to the worst thing, but you couldn’t help yourself.

Theo had written to you over summer holiday, as soon as it started. He said that it ‘probably wasn’t the best idea to try and write Matt as his mum would not be too keen on it.’ But maybe he was wrong, you should’ve tried. Now Mattheo was angry, he couldn’t even look at you.

Mattheo shook his head in answer to your question. “Then why won’t you look at me? I wanted to write, I really did but-” Mattheo cut you off, “Was probably best you didn’t.” He looked up at you finally, allowing you to get a full view of his face for the first time.

There was another one now. A scar. It was the same side, but below his eye. This one went clean down his cheek from right under his eyelid to just below the apple of his cheek bone. “Oh, Matty,” you reached your hand out like you were going to touch it; Mattheo flinched back.

You pulled your hand back quickly, “M’sorry, I didn’t mean-” He cut you off again, “No, s’fine, I’m sorry. It just gets some getting used to that not everyone is out to hurt you. I’ll be better tomorrow, promise.”

You shook your head, crossing your arms, “Why did she do it? I know it was your mother. What now?” Mattheo pulled his legs up, wrapping his arms around his knees and holding on to his wrist, “I just…didn’t want to do something she asked.” Kill someone. That’s what she had asked him to do.

“Bella, please. Not yet. He’s just a boy,” Draco’s mother, Narcissa, pleaded with her sister. She looked at Mattheo, the fear in her young nephew’s eyes. Even down at his side, his wand hand was trembling.

Bellatrix did not seem to have the same soft heart as the younger Black sister, “It must be done, Cissy. It is his destiny. His father is still gone, so he must step in for his duties until he returns.” Bellatrix held steadfast to the curse that kept the muggle man suspended in front of them, body twisted and contorted.

Mattheo didn’t know who the man was, or why his mother chose him. He could be a nice man for all he knew. Knowing his mother he was probably someone random, chosen specifically to test Mattheo; to see if he would be up to the task for that of a young Dark Lord.

“You know the spell, dear boy,” Bellatrix leaned down towards his ear, “kill him, Mattheo.” With a shaky arm, Mattheo raised his wand. He pointed it towards the man, whose eyes were now boring a hole into Mattheo’s.

Mattheo opened his mouth, “A-Av..Avada..” He couldn’t do it. He couldn’t say it, couldn’t kill this man he didn’t know. Couldn’t kill something or someone for no reason. Someone defenseless, who didn’t hurt him, didn’t threaten him. How could he?

“Oh you useless boy, out of my way,” Bellatrix shoved Mattheo aside and to the ground. Her wand hand pointed straight at the muggle man as she said the curse effortlessly, “Avada Kedavra.” A bolt of green light shot from the tip of her wand and hit the man square in the chest.

His body hit the ground with a hard thud.

Bellatrix then stalked over to her son, boots clicking against the marble floor like a time bomb waiting to blow up in Mattheo’s face. Mattheo tried to crawl backwards until his back hit a wall.

Bellatrix pointed her wand straight at his face, “What a pathetic disappointment you are.” In a swift motion, a clean cut was made below his right eye. A hiss left Mattheo’s mouth as his hands covered the bleeding wound.

Narcissa ran over to Mattheo quickly, “Bella! How could you? Your own son?” Bellatrix looked at him with a look that could only be described as disgust, “No son of mine would be so weak.” As she walked away, she shouted over her shoulder, “You can fix him up, Cissy…but leave the scar.”

But he couldn’t tell you that. No, you’d think he was crazy, or worse…be scared of him. “Matty…I’m so sorry,” the frown you wore nearly shattered him. Mattheo shrugged, “S’okay, you actually helped me through it.”

You tilted your head slightly, “Whaddya mean?” Mattheo put his hand inside his cloak, pulling out the stuffed dragon you had made him last Christmas. “He, erm, got me through some tough nights.” The three in a row that Mattheo cried himself to sleep after the incident specifically. But you didn’t need to know that detail.

Your frown grew into a grin and Mattheo seemed to relax a little more, “I’m so glad he helped, that’s the whole reason I made him for you. A little extra pal when I’m not around.”

Mattheo smiled shyly, tucking his dragon back between his robes right as Theo and Enzo burst into the space. “Oi oi! Whatcha reckon, mates? No longer bottom feeders this year, what’s our new titles, hmm?”

“Git one and git two have a nice ring to it, aye Matty?” You pointed at each boy across from you respectively, Mattheo laughing in the process.

Theo would have none of it, “Scusa! I will not have you put me together with him!” Theo tore the leg off his chocolate frog, who was already missing its head, before tossing it in your general direction.

A pout fit itself upon Enzo’s lips, “Why do I gotta be git two?” Theo raised his hand to smack Enzo, but the latter boy must have worked on his reflexes over the summer and was able to dodge. Mattheo stifled a laugh, “Gettin’ quicker, Enz.”

Enzo nodded, “‘ve got to be, quidditch tryouts this year!” At the sound of sport Theo and Mattheo bound into a long conversation. You, on the other hand, began to drown them out. Instead, you dug out your new Defense Against the Dark Arts text, an overly cheery wizard on the front, and started flipping through different pages.

You felt yourself drift off during a debate that broke out on if the Chudley Cannons were going to best the Montrose Magpies this year. The boys must have let you sleep the rest of the ride, as the next thing you knew you felt yourself jolting forward before an arm wrapped around your middle.

Mattheo quickly pulled his arm away once you’d settled, “Erm, sorry.” His cheeks tinted the lightest shade of pink as everyone began to stand. The four of you followed the crowd of students off the train and onto the platform.

You peaked at the group of first years being led to the boats by the gameskeeper, Hagrid. Turning back you grabbed lightly onto the hood of Enzo’s robe so as to not lose your friends in the crowd. As second years you got to take the carriages and skip the water ride.

Approaching the long line of carriages waiting for students, Mattheo stopped in his tracks. Leading each carriage was what looked like a horse with a skeletal body, its face having reptilian features. On its back sat wide leathery wings like that of a bat. Upon his abrupt halting, Enzo, and therefore you, bumped roughly into his back.

“Oof, sorry mate. Why’re ya stoppin?” Enzo brushed himself off, you doing the same. Mattheo just shook his head. If no one else was going to mention the death horses then neither was he.

The ride to the castle and walk to the Great Hall held idle chatter. Mattheo slumped on the bench of the Slytherin table, leaning his chin in his hands as his elbows rested on the table top. He hated that you couldn’t sit with them. And he hated that the Hufflepuff table was all the way on the other side of the Great Hall.

Theo shoved one of Mattheo’s elbows out from under him, his head falling slightly before he straightened himself up. “Nott, what the hell?” Theo nodded towards the other side of the hall. Mattheo turned, seeing you waving enthusiastically.

Mattheo waved back, albeit a little shyer than your display. You then pointed to his left, meaning you wanted Enzo’s attention for some reason. Despite the growing heat in his chest, Mattheo complied, smacking Enzo in the shoulder.

He had about the same reaction as Mattheo originally, but looked for you across the hall all the same. Once you knew you had Enzo’s attention you waved as well. However once he began waving back you turned your hand round, choosing now to give him the middle finger with a wide grin.

Enzo gasped slightly, turning towards his friends, “Did the little badger just flip me the bird?” Mattheo kept his eyes on the table, not trying to hide his smile in the slightest. Theo just shrugged, “If you don’t deserve it now I’m sure you will later.”

The rest of the sorting ceremony and feast went on without much excitement. The new DADA professor was announced with a chorus of swooning sighs that had Mattheo rolling his eyes unamusedly.

Prefects led each house to their dorms after the meal concluded. The new slytherin password was pura sanguinis (pure of blood). Mattheo rolled his eyes again. Instead of staying up with the others he decided to go straight to bed.

Pulling his dragon back out from his robe’s inner pocket he sat it on his bed as he changed. With all the others still in the common room catching up, Mattheo was left alone. He crawled under his duvet, pulling it tight up to his chin.

Once all good and snug, he pulled your dragon close to his chest. He hoped tonight would be the first peaceful sleep he got since leaving Hogwarts for summer. And even better, the sooner he slept, the sooner he could wake up. And hang out with you again.

Mattheo woke about two hours before the others. He had showered and gotten dressed before anyone else in his dorm had even subconsciously thought about waking up. He wanted to get to breakfast early. Partly to make sure that you guys got your same spot (it was crucial) and (more) partly to possibly get some one on one time with you before everyone else made their way up to the great hall.

If there was one thing Mattheo had learned about you over the last school year, it was that your excitement often kept you from sleeping. So he really shouldn’t have been as surprised as he was to find you already sitting (in your group’s spot) at the Slytherin table.

A lone Hufflepuff in their black and yellow sweater sitting at the table with a green and silver runner lying across it. Mattheo walked over with a growing grin, taking his rightful spot next to you on the bench, “Morning. Really thought I’d beat you here.”

You turned to face him, now straddling the bench, “Couldn’t sleep, too excited. How’re you? Better than yesterday?” Mattheo’s face heated slightly, but he nodded, “Yeah, much better now that I’m here.” You smiled a little bigger at this, Mattheo mirrored your expression.

Mattheo could tell you wanted to say something more, or maybe ask him something. You were gnawing on your bottom lip and looking around a lot. “Was there something else?” Mattheo’s heart rate rose, wondering what you could be nervous about asking him.

Stuttering through your sentence you asked him shyly, “C-could I, erm, do you t-think I could give you a hug?” Your cheeks blushed and Mattheo could feel his face falling to one of shock. “I just..” you were gnawing on your lip again, “I just missed you a lot over summer, and I couldn’t write so we didn’t get to talk at all and…if it’s a weird ask I understand. I’m still learning wizard friend protocol.”

Mattheo couldn’t help but smile at your ramblings, “There’s no wizard friend protocol.” There was a long pause then. You still obviously waiting for him to answer your original question. His skin felt like it was getting warmer, he’s never been asked that by anyone before.

He doesn’t think he’s ever actually been hugged before.

He wasn’t sure he wanted you to know that, though if he said yes you might find out right away. You spoke up first, “S-sorry, I dunno why I asked, it was weird, wasn’t it?” Mattheo shook his head, “No, no I’m sorry. I missed you too. Terribly so, actually,” he scratched the back of his neck nervously, “y-you, erm, you can give me one. A hug.”

Your smile returned then, leaning forward and wrapping your arms around Mattheo’s shoulders and pulling him into you. He felt a little awkward, not knowing what to do with his arms. He’s seen people hug before. He tried to mimic that.

Wrapping his arms around you as well, giving a small squeeze as you did.

It was over quicker in real life than it probably felt in his head. He felt warm all over after. You just remained smiling, turning back towards your plate and starting to fill it with food. Mattheo turned and did the same, Theo and Enzo entering the great hall looking still half asleep.

“Well don’t you two look cheery,” you teased as the last two to your foursome joined you for breakfast. Enzo gave a grunt as he made himself tea. “Vaffanculo,” Theo grumbled, leaning his head on his fist and closing his eyes again.

Mattheo stifled a laugh but you narrowed your eyes, “Don’t you curse at me, Theo.” Theo peeked an eye open, eyebrow raised, “I did not curse.” You just shook your head, “Lie. I looked up all the Italian curse words this summer so I’d know when you were trying to be sneaky.”

Theo rolled his eyes. However, Enzo found this thrilling news, “Oh that’s perfect. He’s been saying shit around us for years.”

“You’ve never thought to, I don’t know, try and translate what he’s been saying?” You looked back and forth between Enzo and Mattheo. The latter boy giving a noncommittal shrug, “Too much work.”

You shook your head at them all, “Ridiculous, the lot of you.” There was a brief silence as you all loaded your plates before you spoke again, “Anyone else notice the new pompous arsehole that will be teaching Defense Against the Dark Arts this year?”

“Oh so I’m not allowed to curse but you are?” Theo complained. You just rolled your eyes, “You can’t curse and try to hide it.” Enzo interrupted your spat before it continued further, “I noticed him. It’s hard not to when our entire collection of text for that class is his bloody smiling face.”

Theo rolled his eyes, “I’m not opening a single one of those books this year. There’s no way we’re learning anything. Matt over here could probably teach us more than that loser.”

Mattheo shifted a little in his seat, trying to hide any uncomfortableness with a smirk, “Probably, but I’m not teaching anyone else but you three.” The four of you continued to laugh and make fun of Lockhart until you noticed Enzo dropping small bits of food into his shirt pocket.

“Erm, Enz…what’re you doing?” You were looking at him curiously, but that seemed to give him no indication of what you were wondering about. “Hmm? I’m eating breakfast like the rest of you?”

Mattheo gave an incredulous look, “I think they’re talking about you stuffing food in your pocket, mate. What’re you doing? Saving a snack for later?” Enzo gave a small laugh, “Ohh, no, no. That’s Mocha’s breakfast.”

The three of you just stared at him blankly. Enzo shook his head with another small laugh before sticking his hand in his pocket and pulling out a small light gray frog with brown and black branding. “A tree frog?” Theo sat up a little straighter, “aren’t those things poisonous?”

Enzo huffed out a laugh, “Mocha is a mission golden-eyed tree frog. And she only secretes poison if she feels threatened.”

“A milk frog named Mocha…” Mattheo was doing his best to suppress a smile. “Yes,” Enzo smiled proudly, “I got her this summer, was a birthday present to myself. I’m a father now.” The rest of you groaned.

“Aren’t frogs supposed to eat like..bugs and stuff?” Mattheo inquired. Enzo shrugged, “I give her bugs too, but sometimes she likes a special treat. What kind of father would I be to deny her of that?”

Theo quickly tried to change the subject, “So..quidditch. We’re all trying out this year, yes?” Mattheo and Enzo nodded enthusiastically, “Tryouts will simply be a formality, they’d be stupid to not let us on the house team.”

Theo turned to you, “What about you, badger, trying out for your house team?” You barked out a laugh, “Merlin, no. Won’t catch me dead on that pitch.” The three boys looked at you with slight shock.

“But, erm, I’ll be supportive of you guys. What positions are you trying out for?” Your question seemed good enough distraction, Enzo going into a long spiel about trying out for chaser. You really did your best to pay attention, Enzo saying something about practicing all summer and learning a new move that should ‘really help him outshine anyone else’.

Theo mentioned that he was going for keeper, but wasn’t hellbent on definitely making the team. “I just think it’d be a fun time, yeah?” Mattheo and Enzo nodded. “And what about you, Matty? What position are you trying for?”

He shrugged, “Probably beater. Might be helpful in getting out frustration.” You frowned briefly, but Enzo and Theo both gave a small laugh.

“So you’ll watch us try out then, little badger?” Enzo asked enthusiastically. You gave a smile, “Sure, Enz. I’ll come watch.” Mattheo felt that pulling sensation in his stomach again. It was mixing a little bit with anger, but he wasn’t sure why. Enzo was his friend. You were his friend. You guys could be friends too, then. Right?

Mattheo was starting to believe that second year was going to be far better than last year. So far he had transfiguration, charms and potions with you, and now he was on his way to DADA with you, Theo and Enzo.

“I bet you ten galleons all he does is talk about himself,” Enzo started placing bets as you all walked into the classroom. Once through the doors you couldn’t stop yourself from giggling. On either side of where the desks in the classroom sat were a line of photographs of Gilderoy Lockhart posing in front of different adventure spots.

Even more horrifically was a large 12-foot tall framed painting of himself painting…himself in another smaller canvas.

“Yeah, I don’t think anyone’s taking that bet, mate,” Mattheo’s grin was large as he sat down on your right. Theo and Enzo sat at their own table on your left. Enzo opened his mouth to respond only to be interrupted by your new narcissistic professor and his grand entrance from his office.

“Let me introduce you to your new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher…me,” Lockhart declared from the top of the stairs. “Gilderoy Lockhart, Order of Merlin, Third Class, honorary member of the Dark Force Defense League, and five times winner of Witch Weekly’s Most-Charming-Smile award,” he punctuated his speech with a toothy grin.

Half of the class seemed to swoon at Lockhart’s theatrics. You and the rest of your friends sat chin in hand, bored looks on each of your faces. Halfway through Lockhart’s speech about himself and all his glorious defeats Enzo was lightly snoring.

Mattheo and Theo were not much better. Matty’s head slipped from its place in his hand, his jerking down slightly before he sat up straight again, “What I miss?” You laughed lightly, “He actually just performed all the unforgivables.”

Mattheo narrowed his eyes, “Are you fucking with me?” Rolling your eyes you stifled another laugh, “Of course I’m fucking with you - oh no…that..that is not good.” Mattheo turned to where you were worriedly staring.

Lockhart placed a large bird cage full of cornish pixies on the table next to him. Most of the class started laughing. “Cornish pixies?” Seamus, a Gryffindor student asked in amusement. “Freshly caught cornish pixies,” Lockhart corrected, “laugh if you will Mr. Finnigan, but pixies can be devilishly tricky little blighters.”

You pulled on Mattheo’s robes, “We gotta get out of here.” Lockharts hand was on the latch to the cage of pixies, Mattheo just smiled, “What’s wrong? Badger afraid of some little pixies?”

Shoving Theo awake you turned to Mattheo with a glare, “This badger happens to be pretty proficient in magical creatures, you fucking knob. And those pixies are bloody riled up good. We need to leave.”

“Rilassati, amico,” Theo groaned, looking like he was about to fall back asleep. You scoffed, “No, Theo, I will not relax. Ugh, why are you lot not listening to m-” Lockhart flicked open the cage.

In an instant, roughly fifty cornish pixies barreled out of the cage and around the room. Students were shrieking and ducking under desks. One grabbed onto Hermione’s hair and Potter used his textbook like a beaters bat and thwacked it away.

Neville, another Gryffindor student seemed to be getting the worst of it, being lifted up by his ears by several pixies before being dropped to hang on the chandelier by his robes.

“Fuckin’ Salazar, look what they did to Longbottom,” Enzo pointed at the stout boy now dangling. At that same moment, two pixies began to grab and pull on each of Enzo’s ears. “Hold on, mate,” Theo reared his hand back before smacking Enzo hard on the back of his head.

Both pixies let go and flew away as Enzo nearly smacked his face on the desk in front of him, “What the hell, Theo?”

“Come on,” you pulled both Matty and Theo with you through the doorway, Enzo following quickly behind, still rubbing the back of his head. “No, that’s alright. You lot just go on without me, I’ll stay here with the pixies who tried to attack me.”

“Oi! I got them off of you didn’t I?” Theo had a small smirk on his face. “You didn’t even hit them, you just hit me!” Enzo shouted with a pout.

You fell in step with Enzo. “Awh, poor thing,” you cooed, “did big, bad Theo hurt your head?”

Enzo grumbled, “He’s not big.” Theo let out a laugh, flexing his muscles, “Not big huh. We’ll see on the quidditch pitch this weekend.” Theo and Enzo started laughing and shoving each other. Trying to one up back and forth the rest of the way to the great hall for lunch.

“Are you still gonna watch me tryout?” Mattheo asked, his shoulder bumping yours briefly as he came to walk beside you. A warmth spread through your chest, “I said I would, didn’t I?”

Mattheo grabbed your arm, halting both of you from following the others into the great hall, “Do you pinky promise?” He held out his hand, pinky out, just as you did to him the year before.

You hooked your pinky with his without any hesitation, “Yeah, Matty. Pinky promise.”

October in Scotland could be a hit or miss when it came to the weather. Thankfully, the day of the Slytherin quidditch tryouts were sunny with just barely a breeze. You sat on the wooden bench of the tall stadium seats, watching a decent sized group of students fly around and ‘warm up’ for whatever the tryouts were going to entail.

You hugged the cardigan you were wearing a little tighter around as a particularly large gust of wind blew by. Marcus Flint, the current captain, shouted out plays and orders for everyone to follow that was more confusing than when Theo spoke strictly Italian.

Mattheo hovered in front of Flint, Theo and Enzo on either side as they were given instructions for tryouts. Apparently they were going to go at it like a scrimmage, Marcus splitting the teams up to go against each other.

It didn’t go unnoticed that one side heavily outweighed the other in talent and age, but Mattheo wasn’t too worried about it, he felt confident in his abilities as a beater. Thankfully, he and the other boys were on the same side.

Despite their younger age, the three of them were quite good at their positions. Enzo’s current smaller stature than the older students was given him an advantage in diving between attempted blocks and avoiding bludgers on his way to the goal posts on the other end.

Theo’s ever growing limbs were assisting him in blocking the posts on their end. Mattheo flew back and forth across the pitch, tracking both bludgers and their directions, whacking them towards the other team's players when needed.

On his way back towards his own team’s side of the pitch he flew by where you were sitting. You gave an enthusiastic wave as he did, him doing the same when he noticed what you were wearing.

Green wasn’t typically a color you wore, considering your house was Hufflepuff. Mattheo also couldn’t recall your initials being L.B., or your family crest mimicking that of Berkshire. Were you wearing Enzo’s cardigan?!

“Matty, behind you!” you were pointing over his shoulder, clearly distressed by whatever was headed his way. Turning he saw the black iron ball whizzing in his direction. Gripping the bat, Mattheo swung with the full force of his frustration, the bludger launching towards an older Slytherin on the other team.

He heard you cheering, and deep down he knew it was for him. But all Mattheo could think about was you in Enzo’s clothing. If you wanted to wear something to support them, why didn’t you ask him?

Another bludger was coming near, Mattheo smacking it away with great force once again. He had plenty of green clothes you could’ve borrowed. He was practically bred to be a Slytherin.

Mattheo was losing sight of the purpose of the game, strictly seeking out the bludgers himself just to beat the hell out of them into another direction and chase them down once more. You said yourself that he was your best friend, wouldn’t you borrow from your best friend?

Flint called the game, saying he’d seen enough. Everyone flew back down to the ground of the pitch, forming a small huddle. Mattheo was ignoring everything said, still reeling internally about what he could have done to make you feel like you couldn’t ask him for something.

“And for beaters, we’ll take Bole and…Riddle,” Mattheo was snapped from his thoughts as Flint announced he had made the team. Theo and Enzo clapping him on either shoulder in congrats.

“Good job, mate,” Enzo smiled at him. “Bravo, amico,” Theo gave him a small shove. Mattheo allowed himself to smile at his feat, “Thanks, erm, did you guys make it too?”

Theo and Enzo both looked confused. “What, were you not listening? You are the only small person that made it, the class under,” Theo shook his head with a laugh.

“Theo, mate, you can’t call them that. Those ‘small people’ are goblins. Mattheo’s a wizard,” Enzo wore a shit eating grin.

Too focused on his sarcasm, Enzo didn’t notice you walking up behind him. That is, until you landed a particularly hard flick on the side of his head, “You’re an idiot, Berk.” Theo roared with laughter, “That’s one, badger. Now you’ve only got one free flick left from last Christmas!”

“How are you gonna injure me when I lent you my best cashmere jumper to support us,” Enzo wore a wounded pout. You couldn’t help but roll your eyes, “You basically forced me to wear it. Can you believe he told me I couldn’t wear my own house colors? Like I’d somehow be bad luck?”

So you didn’t ask, Enzo was just a prat, good to know. “I’d say if anything, you being there was good luck, I did make the team after all,” Mattheo was grinning now, true and genuine after his earlier worries were squashed.

You flushed slightly at his words, feeling it reach up near your ears. You would play it off as a cause from the wind if anyone had said anything, but thankfully no one seemed to notice.

“Yeah, yeah, rub it in. We’ll make it next year and then we’ll really be unstoppable,” Theo hoisted his broom over his shoulder, Matty and Enzo doing the same as you all headed back towards the castle.

Enzo and Theo, per usual, started walking ahead. Leaving you and Mattheo in makeshift seclusion. “You looked pretty impressive out there,” you linked your arm with his as you walked.

Mattheo did his best to stay relaxed, “T-Thanks, erm,” he cleared his throat, “thank you. And, erm, thanks for coming and cheering us on.” He ran his hand through his curls before pulling them down slightly.

“I wouldn’t miss it. Not when it was something important to you.”

His face immediately flushed. He could feel it all over, from the tips of his ears, across his nose, even down his neck. You had to have noticed, but you didn’t mention anything. Instead you just allowed the peaceful silence to fall over the two of you for the rest of the walk.

The best part about October at Hogwarts was the very end. The very last day to be specific. Because the last day of October meant one thing: Halloween Feast. And while Theo and Enzo, and many more students, were chattering about what food the castle elves would be cooking up, Mattheo could only think about one thing.

You two couldn’t enjoy it together.

Special event feasts meant you had to sit at your house table. Mattheo hated that your house table wasn’t his. But that didn’t stop him from sitting where he could look for you.

Nearly willing you to look his way. You always did. And you always waved. It made his heart happy. He still couldn’t believe he was able to make a true and genuine friend. One who didn’t care about his blood status, who his parents were, what he was destined for.

Theo gave Mattheo a quick nudge with his elbow, pulling him back to reality with those around him. The feast was now apparently over, Mattheo had barely eaten anything.

As the four tables of students slowly became a giant mass, Mattheo’s eyes never left your form. Weeding through students as if they were nothing in order to get to you. “Matty, hey!” your hand rose high in a wave, Mattheo pretending like he wasn’t already looking in your direction.

Theo and Enzo were quick to appear behind him, immediately speaking as if they were already in the middle of a conversation with you, “So we’re going to a party, yeah?”

Mattheo shot you a questioning look, you rolled your eyes. “A party Theo? How are second years supposed to get into a party?” Mattheo threw an arm around your shoulder, facing the two, “Yeah, what bright and brilliant idea have you two concocted in order to get us in?”

“Why do we want to get in?” You add on. You’re all moving with the crowd from the great hall towards the main split off of corridors for all the houses. Enzo lets out an exasperated sigh, “Because I heard a bunch of fourth years that were going talking about it and they all sounded very excited. Must be a good time.”

You glanced at Mattheo, a smirk forming on his lips, “And where is this party taking place exactly?”

“Ravenclaw Tower” “Gryffindor Tower”

Theo and Enzo spoke both simultaneously and opposite. You and Mattheo exchanged a glance, “So neither of you know. Are you even sure you heard the right information?”

Enzo opened his mouth to reply when the four of you all seemed to run into the people just ahead. Hushed whispers fell over everyone, and for good reason. High on the corridor wall in front of all the students was a message seemingly written in blood.

The chamber of secrets has been opened��enemies of the heir…beware

Mattheo grew rigid. He glanced around the crowd of students. No one seemed to be staring at him, which was good. Then the nasally sound of his cousin rang over the crowd.

“Enemies of the heir, beware? You’ll be next, mudbloods!”

A scowl flashed across Mattheo’s face. You grabbed his arm, “Leave it. He’s not worth it.” Mattheo looked at you, your eyes seemingly pleading for him to just let it go.

Dumbledore’s voice then boomed over all the murmuring. “Prefects lead your houses back to your common rooms. The fun seems to be concluded for the night.”

Enzo let out a groan, “So no parties?”

Mattheo slumped into the puffy yellow sofa in the Hufflepuff common room. You sat next to him as Theo and Enzo sat in two adjoining lounge chairs across from you. “Sorry you lost the game, Matty,” you really were empathetic, even if you didn’t know what was going on.

“Match,” Enzo corrected, "It's called a match not a game”.

“Whatever,” you rolled your eyes, “M’still sorry.” Mattheo shrugged. The match wasn’t really on his mind. At least not in the way that everyone was probably thinking.

Last week someone had started a rumor that Mattheo was the one who opened the Chamber of Secrets. That he was the heir to Slytherin and the one who’d been threatening everyone.

When a first year with a camera was rumored to have been petrified a few days ago, everyone started to avoid him like the plague. Everyone except you, Theo and Enzo. There were even a few other Slytherins that had actually congratulated him, whispering to him students he should attack next.

Theo encouraged those students to shove their wands up their ass.

Before the match this morning Mattheo had found out that it was Draco who had started the rumor. He immediately wanted to pulverize his weasel of a cousin but you had encouraged him to ‘channel his anger towards the bludgers instead’.

Mattheo had planned on doing just that. But it didn’t seem like he really needed to. Any time he flew near someone they almost immediately went the other way. He could only assume they were thinking what the rest of the school was, too.

“I honestly thought the rumor Malfoy spread would’ve helped you guys win today, just have you fly by anyone with the quaffle and they’d avoid it,” Enzo meant it as a positive comment. Mattheo hadn’t mentioned to anyone that he technically was the actual heir.

But he wasn’t the one who opened the chamber. He hadn’t even heard of it before it was written about in blood on the walls.

“Golden boy Potter always manages to get the snitch though doesn’t he,” you huffed out annoyed, “even breaking his bloody arm in the process.”

Mattheo ran his hands through his curls, “Can we talk about something else besides the match…and people thinking I’m on a petrifying spree or something.”

The barrels to your common room rolled open, a group of fifth years coming in. They stopped short seeing three slytherins sitting on their sofas. A sour look crossed over the tallest one’s features.

“Who let the killer in our common room?” a few of his friends snickered behind him.

You were immediately on your feet, wand drawn, “Go fuck yourself, Cedric!” Enzo stood up with you, “Yeah, Diggory, ya cockwomble, how about you all go have a group wank and leave us alone.”

Cedric gave Enzo the finger, which the younger boy gladly returned in double and a show of his tongue. The older Hufflepuffs went off to their rooms, leaving the four of you alone in the common room once more.

You sat back down, immediately apologizing for your housemates. Mattheo waved it off, more so secretly thrilled that you defended his honor. Theo brought everyone’s minds back to center, asking the real question, “Enzo what was that word you used? Cockwiggler?”

You and Mattheo couldn’t suppress your laughter, Enzo rolling his eyes, “It’s cockwomble, mate. It's like…an idiot, a person who’s being an idiot.”

Mattheo shook his head, “You’ve gotta be fucking with us, Enz. There’s no way. You made that shit up on the spot.” You agreed with Matty, “Yeah, Berk. I swear you’re just saying shit with confidence and assuming everyone else won't question it.”

A playful argument then ensued, everyone asking Enzo what other words he’s been making up. As Mattheo readjusted in his seat, a letter fell out of his robes. You grabbed for it, seeing the front for only a brief moment before Mattheo was snatching it from your hands.

“What’re you doing? Did you reach in my robes?”

You looked at him confused, “What? Of course I didn’t. What’s wrong? Who’s that from?” Mattheo could feel the other two staring now. The earlier light hearted conversation now traded off for this one.

“It’s from my mum,” Mattheo held the letter face down, choosing to stare at the broken wax seal of his family crest instead of his mother’s scratchy scrawl. Enzo inhaled through gritted teeth, his face in sort of a grimace. Theo just looked like he felt sorry for him.

You wore a small frown, clearly remembering the terrible things Mattheo’s mother has done to him over the last year. “Are you in trouble?”

Mattheo shook his head, “Kind of? But not really. She just sort of said that ‘my presence wasn’t necessary during the holidays’. It’s fine. I don’t want to be around them anyway. Especially fucking Malfoy.”

You nodded in agreement, it seemed to be what Mattheo needed. But your heart ached at the thought of him staying at the castle for the holidays.

Eventually the conversation shifted, Mattheo saying he was tired and should probably head back to the dungeons. You walked them to the barrel door, before walking directly to your desk in your room and grabbing a quill and parchment.

The rest of December until break was not very kind to Mattheo. Another student, a Hufflepuff this time, became petrified. If people were weary of him and the boys hanging in your common room before, it was extremely frowned upon after that incident.

You had suggested just hanging out in their common room instead. Mattheo was extremely against this at first. Stating that there were ‘too many people who thought like Draco’ and that you would stick out like a sore thumb in your yellow and black attire.

When you suggested just borrowing a sweater or two of his, he came around.

That was how you were able to get into their dorms without much question to help Theo and Enzo (mostly Enzo) finish up their packing for the holiday break. “Merlin, Enz, did you even start packing before we came up here?”

Enzo threw a pile of clothes near his trunk, “Nope.” Theo grumbled at him in Italian and Enzo just stuck out his tongue in response.

“Did you at least remember to pack your frog?” you were teasing him, assuming Mocha was already somewhere safe like his pocket. Enzo turned around at the mention of his amphibian child.

He patted the shirt pocket on his chest, then picked up his robes and started feeling in each of those pockets. “Merlin’s beard…I’ve lost my daughter. Holy Helga, I’ve lost Mocha. Mocha! Where are you sweetie? Daddy’s worried about you!”

He started lifting the pillows of his bed before turning behind him and tearing apart Theo’s as well, to much protest. You started to look around the dorm when you noticed Mattheo smiling.

Walking over to him you crossed your arms, “What did you do?” Mattheo didn’t make eye contact. Instead he just kept smiling, holding his gaze towards something higher, almost like he was trying to concentrate on keeping a spell going.

Following where he was looking you saw Mocha floating a few feet above Enzo’s head. Having enough of the Slytherin shenanigans you poked Mattheo between his hip and ribs, the boy letting out a small yelp, however you succeed in breaking his eye contact.

Mocha landed right atop Enzo’s head. He was so relieved to see her he didn’t even question how she got there.

Once you had assisted in getting them somewhat organized you had walked with the three Slytherins to the carriages that would take students back to Hogsmeade station.

Theo and Enzo had gotten in with a few other Slytherins, Enzo abruptly wrapping his arms around you in a farewell hug.

You, of course, hugged back after the initial shock wore off. Enzo went to do the same to Mattheo. Who immediately held up his hand to stop him, “Absolutely not.”

You stood with Matty as the carriages rode off. Watching them get smaller and smaller the farther they got away.

It took him a moment before he realized you were still standing next to him. “W-what are you doing here? Shouldn’t you have gotten on the carriage with them?”

You gave Mattheo your biggest smile, “Oh, didn’t I mention it? I’m staying here too. We’re going to spend Christmas together.”

#year two is heeeeere #thoughts thoughts everyone?#slytherin boys #origin story series #origin stories #matty riddle #mattheo riddle #mattheo riddle x reader #enzo berkshire #theodore nott #theo nott #lorenzo berkshire #x reader

188 notes · View notes

hollowed-theory-hall · 4 months ago

Note

Hey there, here's a question I've been thinking of and I wanted to hear your thoughts on it.

Who is the strongest Death Eater Harry could defeat in a one-on-one duel?

I think by the time of Deathly Hallows the strongest Death Eater Harry could beat would be Bellatrix. Every other Death Eater I can see Harry beating, to various degrees of difficulty, but Bellatrix would be his greatest challange.

She is considered one of Voldemort's most dangerous followers, perhaps only weaker than Snape and Voldemort himself, both of whom are in a league of their own. She is the top Death Eater for a reason.

True, Bellatrix was killed by Molly, though I'd say that is because, while Molly is no slouch in a duel and was fueled by motherly rage, Bellatrix clearly underestimated her and wasn't taking the fight seriously. Also, Bellatrix was probably tired from essentially fighting all night up to that point.

Needless to say, I think Harry could defeat Bellatrix in a duel, but it would definitely take everything he's got. He'd have to pull out all the stops to win and he'd be exhausted afterwards.

Beyond that, I think the only two Harry couldn't beat would be Snape and Voldemort. Snape soundly defeated Harry in HBP and Voldemort's went toe-to-toe against Dumbledore who had the Elder Wand in OOTP. I think in the future Harry would reach their level, but by the time the series ends he hasn't got there yet.

Like, you're talking to Harry's number one defender and believer here and after just reading the first two sentences of your ask, I was like:

"Voldemort. He could go one-on-one with Voldemort,"

And then I read the rest of your ask, and I understand where you're coming from, and I don't think Harry has the most advanced spell repertoire, or that he's the best dueller when it comes to finesse (because that boy is not a polished dueller), but I think by book 7 Harry can go and hold his own against both Voldemort and Dumbledore in one-on-one duels if he was pushed to it.

What I mean is that Harry is a very "depends on the situation" type of person. If you put him in a position where he has to defend himself (and others) from any opponent(s) and he lets his instincts do what they do best — I think he could survive 1v1 duels with anyone. I'm not saying he won't struggle, I'm not saying he would necessarily win, but he'd get out alive to fight another day. Against any Death Eater (and even multiple Death Eaters, I think, under the right conditions)

I mean, in book 4, we see a 14-year-old Harry go 1v1 with Voldemort. And sure, Voldemort is toying with him there, he isn't trying to kill Harry for most of the duel, but Harry resists the Imperius, he does dodge out of the way of spells. He does shot spells back and fights in a way many can't:

“You won’t?” said Voldemort quietly, and the Death Eaters were not laughing now. “You won’t say no? Harry, obedience is a virtue I need to teach you before you die. . . . Perhaps another little dose of pain?” Voldemort raised his wand, but this time Harry was ready; with the reflexes born of his Quidditch training, he flung himself sideways onto the ground; he rolled behind the marble headstone of Voldemort’s father, and he heard it crack as the curse missed him. [...] he was not going to die kneeling at Voldemort’s feet . . . he was going to die upright like his father, and he was going to die trying to defend himself, even if no defense was possible. . . . Before Voldemort could stick his snakelike face around the headstone, Harry stood up . . . he gripped his wand tightly in his hand, thrust it out in front of him, and threw himself around the headstone, facing Voldemort. Voldemort was ready. As Harry shouted, “Expelliarmus!” Voldemort cried, “Avada Kedavra!”

(GoF, Ch34)

And yeah, the Priori Incantatum was lucky, but luck wasn't enough to save him:

The closer that bead moved, the harder Harry’s wand vibrated; he was sure his wand would not survive contact with it; it felt as though it was about to shatter under his fingers — He concentrated every last particle of his mind upon forcing the bead back toward Voldemort, his ears full of phoenix song, his eyes furious, fixed . . . and slowly, very slowly, the beads quivered to a halt, and then, just as slowly, they began to move the other way . . .

(GoF, Ch34)

Harry needed a stronger force of will and concentration on his magic than Voldemort. Harry won against Voldemort on pure magic, will, and focus when he was 14. He barely survived a 1v1 with Voldemort, but he did so on a combination of luck and talent, and force of will. Harry is insanely talented with low self-esteem, but this feat he pulled at 4th year is utterly insane:

“I will say it again,” said Dumbledore as the phoenix rose into the air and resettled itself upon the perch beside the door. “You have shown bravery beyond anything I could have expected of you tonight, Harry. You have shown bravery equal to those who died fighting Voldemort at the height of his powers. You have shouldered a grown wizard’s burden and found yourself equal to it — and you have now given us all that we have a right to expect.

(GoF, Ch36)

Dumbledore is right. This shit Harry pulled is so incredibly impressive and most adults in the wizarding world (including almost all Death Eaters) would not have been able to pull it off even if they had the same twin-core wand situation. There is a reason Harry is considered Voldemort's equal. He is.

He's just young, inexperienced, and unpolished.

We see the Death Eaters that were at the Graveyard like Lucius are wary of him after the above display:

“You hear him? You hear him? Giving instructions to the other children as though he thinks of fighting us!” “Oh, you don’t know Potter as I do, Bellatrix,” said Malfoy softly. “He has a great weakness for heroics; the Dark Lord understands this about him. Now give me the prophecy, Potter.”

(OotP, Ch35)

And in OotP, we get the answer regarding Harry and various Death Eaters as the fight emerges:

The second Death Eater, however, had leapt aside to avoid Harry’s spell and now pointed his own wand at Hermione, who had crawled out from under the desk to get a better aim. “Avada —” Harry launched himself across the floor and grabbed the Death Eater around the knees, causing him to topple and his aim to go awry.

[...]

Harry seized his chance: “PETRIFICUS TOTALUS!” The spell hit Dolohov before he could block it, and he toppled forward across his comrade, both of them rigid as boards and unable to move an inch.

(OotP, Ch35)

And we see Harry's limited spell knowledge in full display. He doesn't have the experience to duel them properly, so he just fucking tackles Death Eaters to the ground or elbows them. That's what I meant by Harry would find a way if he was pressed. It's what he does.

By the end of the fight in OotP, before the Order arrives, Neville can't cast, Ron is high and attacked by the brains, Hermione, Ginny, and Luna are all out of commission, leaving Harry alone against Bellatrix, and all other Death Eaters that weren't dispatched yet:

“Let — let the others go, and I’ll give it to you!” said Harry desperately. A few of the Death Eaters laughed. “You are not in a position to bargain, Potter,” said Lucius Malfoy, his pale face flushed with pleasure. “You see, there are ten of us and only one of you . . . or hasn’t Dumbledore ever taught you how to count?”

(OotP, Ch35)

It was Harry vs 10 Death Eaters (including Bellatrix) and Harry was managing at 15.

Yes, he had the prophecy so they weren't shooting to kill him (for the most part), just incapacitated but, like, that's still incredibly impressive. Especially since he also managed to make sure none of his friends were killed. Harry wasn't just fighting for himself as for a good portion of the battle he and Neville were dragging unconscious friends with them.

And later, the same 15-year-old Harry chases Bellatrix on his own, and he manages fine:

She aimed a curse over her shoulder. The tank rose into the air and tipped. Harry was deluged in the foul-smelling potion within. The brains slipped and slid over him and began spinning their long, colored tentacles, but he shouted, “Wingardium Leviosa!” and they flew into the air away from him. Slipping and sliding he ran on toward the door. [...] Bellatrix was almost at the telephone lift at the other end of the hall, but she looked back as he sprinted toward her, and aimed another spell at him. He dodged behind the Fountain of Magical Brethren; the spell zoomed past him and hit the wrought gold gates at the other end of the Atrium so that they rang like bells. [...] “Potter, you cannot win against me!” she cried. He could hear her moving to the right, trying to get a clear shot of him. He backed around the statue away from her, crouching behind the centaur’s legs, his head level with the house-elf’s. “I was and am the Dark Lord’s most loyal servant, I learned the Dark Arts from him, and I know spells of such power that you, pathetic little boy, can never hope to compete —” “Stupefy!” yelled Harry. He had edged right around to where the goblin stood beaming up at the now headless wizard and taken aim at her back as she peered around the fountain for him. She reacted so fast he barely had time to duck. “Protego!”

(OotP, Ch36)

Yes, he's fighting very defensively becouse he lacks experience, but his instincts and responses are quick enough to dodge, evade, and face her without suffering an injury. He succeeds in casting a Crucio on her, not the other way around. None of her spells hit him. And she definitely tries.

He manages so well that Voldemort comes in to help Bellatrix:

Harry laughed again because he knew it would incense her, the pain building in his head so badly he thought his skull might burst. He waved his empty hand from behind the one-eared goblin and withdrew it quickly as she sent another jet of green light flying at him. “Nothing there!” he shouted. “Nothing to summon! It smashed and nobody heard what it said, tell your boss that —” “No!” she screamed. “It isn’t true, you’re lying — MASTER, I TRIED, I TRIED — DO NOT PUNISH ME —”

(OotP, Ch36)

Personally, I don't think he just came into the ministry to save her, but many Bellatrix fans say Voldemort came in to save her, save her from who then? — well, if we read the scene, the only one he could save her from at the moment he entered is Harry.

So, by Deathly Hallows, I think Harry could definitely defeat Bellatrix one-on-one. I think Snape would also struggle to duel Harry by that point. If Harry is in his element the way he is in the battle in the DoM, Harry would've been able to avoid Snape's spells at the end of HBP. Snape does beat Harry in HBP, 100%, he does so almost easily. But, I think it has a lot to do with Harry's emotional state and exhaustion at the moment. He did just drag Dumbledore back from Voldemort's Zombie Cave of Doom and fought his way through the castle after watching Dumbledore die. Harry was not on his A-game (though, I do think he'd struggle against Snape even at his best at 16, but it won't be such an easy defeat is what I'm saying).

I do want to raise the moment right before the iconic "there's no need to call me 'sir', professor," line:

“Pathetic, Weasley,” said Snape, after a while. “Here — let me show you —” He turned his wand on Harry so fast that Harry reacted instinctively; all thought of nonverbal spells forgotten, he yelled, “Protego!” His Shield Charm was so strong Snape was knocked off-balance and hit a desk. The whole class had looked around and now watched as Snape righted himself, scowling.

(HBP, Ch9)

When Harry is in a fighting state and running on instincts alone, I think he would be able to live through and even defeat Snape in a 1v1 duel even if Snape was actually trying.

Again, it's not that Hary won't struggle against Bellatrix/Snape/Voldemort/Dumbledore, he would. But Harry's fighting strategy is to evade getting hit and then hit once back, and make that one hit fucking count. Harry is really good at dodging, casting shields, and in general not getting hit. He's really good in defense, no joke. He's got these Seeker reflexes. He's good at it even against fast opponents (becouse his responses tend to be faster when he isn't super spent/in pain/etc.), and that's what matters because really, his opponent's magical skill doesn't matter if none of their spells land. And Harry rarely gets hit in duels when he's actually fighting. (Against Snape at the end of HBP he kinda just stood there, he wasn't really doing his regular dodging and moving around).

So becouse regardless of who Harry faces, he would be very skilled in evading, I think he could definitely hold his own in a one-on-one duel with Voldemort/Dumbledore/any Death Eater. As long as he doesn't get hit and he lands one good hit (which he proved he can accomplish against both Snape and Bellatrix) he could potentially win. He just has really good battle instincts, but I won't say he knows how to duel "properly". He doesn't.

We see Harry's quick reflexes in DH, as well (even when there is no threat):

The two workmen made identical movements, and Harry mirrored them without conscious thought: All three of them drew their wands.

(DH, Ch9)

Ron jumped off the bed, skidded on a discarded Chocolate Frog wrapper, and smacked his head on the opposite wall; and Harry instinctively dived for his wand

(DH, Ch6)

“You—crawl—back—here—after—weeks—and—weeks—oh, where’s my wand?” She looked as though ready to wrestle it out of Harry’s hands and he reacted instinctively. “Protego!” The invisible shield erupted between Ron and Hermione. The force of it knocked her backward onto the floor.

(DH, Ch19)

With Harry, it's all about quick reflexes and raw magical talent. His reflexes are transferable skills from Quidditch, while his magical talent is something I spoke of extensively here, here, here & here.

Besides, I, at least, have complete faith in Harry's abilities and will. I mean, it's Harry, if he feels he needs to do something, he'd find a way to do it. Especially if he needs to protect others. It won't necessarily be a pretty or elegant duel, but he'd do what needs to be done.

#harry potter #hp #asks #anonymous #hp meta #hollowedtheory #harry james potter #harry potter meta #my best boy hjp

176 notes · View notes

ditzybat · 8 days ago

Text

I’ve been thinking about if Harry Potter characters were American and what state they would be from, and these are the conclusions I’ve come to.

Harry - he’s Northern Illinois coded, just because I feel like the Dursley’s have a mean midwestern vibe, because northern Illinoisans are lowkey mean and nosy (I say this as someone from Chicago), and it’s really suburban enough to match with Surreys overall description (and by that I mean the Dursley’s are def from Naperville) + I feel like the Lily And Petunia were from Chicago so I feel like it isn’t too out there for Petunia to settle down with her mediocre husband somewhere nice. He tells people he’s from Chicago and gets clocked immediately by people actually from the city, where he then has to admit he’s from Naperville (which is embarrassing, and honestly real man I’m from the burbs too </3) + Dudley seems like the type to say he’s from south side and in a gang to people when he first meets them, but actually lives in a gated community.

Ron - Arizona, specifically Tucson. Red states are cheaper and I feel like financially it would be a smarter move for the Weasleys to live there - also the mental image of Fred and George cooking an egg on the sidewalk (intending to feed it to Ron) as them and their entire family turn lobster red in the summer is too good.

Hermione - Connecticut, I have no basis for places in Connecticut because I’ve never been, however its gorgeous in autumn and it’s gives Gilmore Girls vibes which i feel like Hermione based her personality off of for her first few years of elementary school (because, me too) also I feel like if we put her in a book/coffee shop alone with a Pinterest feed she’d post some absolute golden pictures to her Instagram.

Draco - So, I do think he’s still very European, and by that I mean he’s rich enough to visit his grandparents in France (where I’m just gonna say the Blacks are from and immigrated to the U.S right before Sirius, Regulus, Narcissa, Andromeda and Bellatrix went to Hogwarts - which for the sake of this AU would be in Salem, Massachusetts in place of Ilvermorny) but I do feel that he gives New Jersey vibes, like that’s where he was born and raised because the Malfoys are rich socialites who live in a Victorian era mansion - also because I feel like Draco with a New Jersey accent he desperately tries to hide because it’s a little bit too ‘by the shore’ to be socially acceptable by all his rich family friends is so cute.

The Black Family - French, but immigrated to New York - specifically The Hamptons. I feel like this is the obvious choice, also they’re unbearably rich and French so they think The Hamptons is mediocre. However, Walburga was absolutely horrified to find that the Malfoys were from JERSEY and that Narcissa decided it would be best to move with her new husband down there - prolong exposure to New Yorkers made the family pick up the hater attitude towards Jersey and Boston.

Remus - Washington, specifically Seattle, he loves the small coffee shops and Costco, but also refuses to whip out an umbrella when it rains because he feels like it shows weakness (even though he probably should because of his cane…) also he’s the one running the i5 Instagram account yelling at losers who can’t drive.

Peter - He’s from Boston. You just know he goes hard on St. Patrick’s day by making Corn Beef sandwiches and blasting Dropkick Murpheys (his great grandparents are Irish, so he’s your average ‘Irish American’) Wore a Celtics jersey when visiting Sirius at his apartment in Manhattan and was heckled. He has the thickest accent in the world, can’t pronounce his r’s whatsoever.

The Evan’s Family + Snape - already said it, but again I think she and Petunia are from Chicago, which also mean Severus would be from there as well - and I just feel like all together they’re from South Side because I feel like they’re all tough enough to withstand it like they were raised there - like Lily is such a powerful and strong witch that I feel like a background in south side makes sense, same thing with Snape, it fits with their background. Petunia will forever deny she’s from a struggling area, and is proud to live in the richest suburb with her white picket fence and perfect family.

James - as I said, he’s an LA boy who loves the beach and has a killer tan, but he’s really from Oxnard and lies because no one outside of Cali knows where that is, also it sounds cooler. He and Lily probably have debates on which city has the better Mexican food (The answer is Chicago), and he loves taking pictures outside the Barbie house in Santa Monica. He has a bad case of Valley Girl accent that he picked up through osmosis from Mary (who is actually from LA and isn’t a liar).

Anyway I’m too lazy to do the rest of the cast and marauders so here’s my little Americanization of Harry Potter because I find making British people mad entertaining.

61 notes · View notes

aithusarosekiller · 25 days ago

Text

Thinking about possessive regulus in Princewater, have some messages to Jude bc I must share:

Bc he's a half blood, friends with some of the 'shitter' sacred 28 families (sorry Bruce and Edmund it's for hc reasons), AND one of voldy's favourites, in the early days Severus definitely gets ostracised a lot by the other death eaters, who often find him whiny and annoying.

He's invented enough spells to deal with them himself but Regulus still doesn't want him to handle it alone. As far as he's concerned, he is a member of the black household and nobody pushes them around. So Regulus definitely makes it a point to stand ever so slightly behind him at every gathering and gently squeeze his shoulder, tracing circles on it with his thumb to casually remind everyone that this isn't just another random death eater, he has Lord Black watching over him with utmost devotion and Regulus is willing to curse an entire bloodline if anybody messes with them. You know how cats hiss like crazy when you go near their stuff. Yeah, like that. He is essentially resource guarding his man. And Severus does not give a fuck, he just acts like nothing is happening.

He definitely has the possessive 'this is mine btw' attitude like the spoiled rich boy he is. He's always lurking with a hand on Severus' shoulder, he probably kisses him on the head every so often to remind everyone that they're together and that if you mess with one you're messing with both. Like I think most pureblood couples would do that in a 'remember how powerful we are' way but reg definitely does it all the time. Sweet gestures but they very clearly say 'don't you FUCK with us, okay?'

Nobody wants to come out against them as it is but it won't stop him from making eye contact across the room as he sweetly kisses his fiancé on the cheek, just in case. Severus doesn't even notice, he's having a conversation with the person next to him and hardly notices reg coming over. They never ever everrrr use pet names when alone but the second there's a crowd? They're all coming out.

Regulus, walzing over and kissing him on the cheek: hello, darling. What's all this?

Bellatrix from the other side of the room: REGGIE NOBODY WANTS YOUR MAN

#regulus black #severus snape #marauders era #snegulus #princewater #severlus

73 notes · View notes

hadesrise · 2 years ago

Text

## in your name !!

summary──── you unexpectedly defend barty from your friends.

pairings──── bartemius “barty” crouch jr. x hufflepuff!male reader

warnings──── sfw content, foul language, sunshine and sunshine protector trope, discrimination, asshole friends, friends to lovers, badassery lol, people are a lot prejudiced in this

author’s note──── i headcanon him as ravenclaw, sorry. also i think hufflepuffs are scary as fuck when they’re mad. I DO NOT HATE LILY OR JAMES AND SIRIUS. please don't misunderstand that 🥲

Unpleasant whispers filled the Great Hall particularly from Gryffindor’s table as everyone watched the little-to-no-good trio take a seat on the Hufflepuff’s table and settle themselves there uncaring of the whispers, Barty sitting down right beside you while Evan and Regulus sat on the opposite side. Despite noticing the unpleasant looks being thrown at your company, you smiled at Barty after seeing how comfortable and relaxed he seemed.

“Hey, B.” You softly greeted, eyes twinkling in admiration and cheerfulness. “Nice to see you lads too, Evan and Regulus.” Greeting politely, Evan and Regulus each sent you a small smile before falling into a calm conversation with one another, which made you wonder why they’re here in the first place, but you figured it’s because Barty’s here.

“How’s your potions class?” Barty questioned, starting off with casual conversation while beginning to eat.

The Marauders watched as you respond to Barty with a kind smile on your face and not an ounce of hatred nor distaste for being surrounded by the three most infamous persons in Hogwarts, aside from Severus Snape, Lucius Malfoy, and Bellatrix Black. The softness of your expression didn’t even change. No one understands how a golden boy like you could hang out with people like... them, considering you’re the most kindest, softest, brightest person Hogwarts has ever had. You’re easily approachable and has the heart of gold that is almost impossible to be tainted, treating everyone equally while plastering on that pleasant smile of yours.

You’re practically a walking safe space for everyone. Reliable, trustworthy, loyal, patient, generous, kind, humorous, ambitious, all of them combined is what you are — a perfect person.

Or at least, that’s how others perceive you. Though, it’s not their fault for seeing you like that, you figured.

The way you’ve presented yourself in public is probably why they think of you as this perfect and divine person that is always good and never evil. You’re kind of flattered by them, but it also makes you feel as if expectations are squeezing down your throat hard.

“How the fuck does he tolerate him?” Sirius Black exclaimed in genuine confusion, referring to you engaging in conversations with a guy who clearly meant bad news.

“Language,” Remus Lupin, without looking up from his book, scolded gently. “I’m sure it’s because he has more patience than you. He also doesn’t seem to care what other people say.”

“But it’s not good for him to be hanging out with Barty, don’t you think?” Lily Evans worriedly spoke from beside Remus as Marlene Mckinnon, who sat by her side, nodded in agreement. They knew how nice you were, so seeing you carelessly talk to Barty without hesitation makes them worried, especially when Barty’s practically apart of the Slytherins that are far from pleasant from how much time he spends with them instead of his own house. They knew him, and he definitely cannot be called a good person.

“Er... We don’t know for sure.” Peter shrugs, “I mean, it’s really not for us to decide who he should hang out with.”

“Peter’s right,” Remus immediately agreed, “There’s not much we can do if he’s hanging out with them. It’s not our business, and even though he’s kind, I don’t think he would appreciate anyone butting their heads into his business. After all, he has his own thoughts.”

Even then, Lily was worried while Sirius did not understand. They returned their attention to you and Barty after hearing your laughter erupt in the Great Hall amongst murmurs and talkings of other students, seeing you playfully punching Barty’s arm and him having an overly amused and proud look on his face for making you laugh. You seem to be fairly enjoying yourself in Remus’ and Peter’s perspective, but of course, those who have a childish disdain towards Slytherin and their associates would rather be blind to it than face the reality.

You’re clearly happy with having Barty as a friend and certainly doesn’t mind who he hangs out with; endlessly friendly and nice to his two best friends, even greeting them with a warm smile. As a matter of fact, it made you seem more matured than anyone else, how you never discriminate, judge, accuse or hate anyone based on their house, rumours, or first impressions. You see everyone for who they are, not what people think of them as.

Resting his elbow on the table and chin on his palm, Barty simply admired you as you talk about your day while putting some meals on his plate, making sure none of the meals contained his least favorite food. “Defense against the Dark Arts is such an entertaining lesson, B. It certainly levels up my defensive spells. I’ve been practicing them where no one will get harmed and proudly, I’ve improved a lot.” You told with utter excitement as you finished putting meals on his plate, moving to put some on your plate next. “I could show you later if you want? And perhaps, you can give me feedbacks on what I should work on.”

Barty was almost too busy admiring you, though he was quick to respond. “That’s a brilliant. Maybe we could even duel once you’ve mastered it."

You winced, “Can you not go hard on me? I’m still not confident with my duelling, you know.”

“Oh well, confidence is the key!” Barty says with excitement, genuinely wanting to duel with you. “You should try being full of yourself and think, ‘I can fucking do this’ ‘cause it works. That’s how I got pass that bloody awful Divination class.” He rolled his eyes and shook his head, as if it was the worst ever experience of his life.

A giggle erupted from your throat, which made Barty’s lips twitch up to form a smile. It may be unexpected to others, but to you, Barty always smiled and you witnessed every single one of those moments.

“Professor McGonagall will hex you if she hears that,” You joked while still laughing, leaning on him.

He wraps an arm around your shoulder to keep you on his side, grinning. “That’s just an if, you know.” Wiggling his brows, you giggled at his silliness and also wrapped an arm around his waist naturally, gaining a few raised brows and looks from other houses.

Evan and Regulus merely smiled at your interaction before scowling and exchanging eye contact, people’s reactions catching their attention despite being mild. It’s absolutely unpleasant, how they look at you and Barty as if you’re doing something criminal. They look at you with such disapproval that couldn’t help but cause Evan and Regulus to furrow their brows and narrow their eyes — it’s almost unbelievable how everyone loves you when you’re with your own house, Gryffindors, or Ravenclaws, but when you hang out with Slytherins or anyone close to them, you’re suddenly unlikable. As if you were the Public’s property, like you’re supposed to do what they tell you to do. It feels almost as if they want to control who you hang out with.

It’s more than unpleasant, the two Slytherin thought. It’s awful, how everyone seemingly wants you to act the way they expect you to.

Do you even realise the way those people who you consider friends look at you whenever you hang out with Barty? Have you ever looked around to see their eyes screaming disappointment? What would you think once you notice?

Barty seemed to be putting all his trust in you, nearly taking his heart out for you to carry it around; they don’t want their best friend to lose someone who’s literally the safe place and comfort zone. They were worried about Barty, but also worried for you.

Unfortunatelly, worrying made them miss the way you piercingly stared at someone who looked at Barty with disgust when he wasn’t looking, before plastering on an angelic smile to your best friend as soon as the bastard flinched and looked away.

I hope no one attempts to cut my patience off today, you thought with a smile while listening to him talk enthusiastically about the fun time he messed with Lucius’ potion so bad that it exploded on Snape, not knowing you’ll be in for a surprise later on.

“What are you up to later?” Evan questioned as the three of them strolled through the hallway and ignored the obnoxious pranksters with red and gold tie, trying to find a place where peace actually exists and no judgmental look from anyone.

“Studying with (Y/n).” Barty grins, holding up a pile of books. There seems to be little unnoticeable bounces in his steps as excitement bubbles within him.

Regulus gives him a weird look, “Are you pretending to be stupid so you could study with him?”

“What’s the matter with it? It’s not like he’ll know.”

“You are literally a Ravenclaw.”

“Don’t stereotype me, Reg. It’s getting old, you’re old.”

“You’re making it seem as if he’s that stupid enough not to know you’re just pretending.”

An offended gasp was heard.

“No, I am not!”

Evan chuckled at their playful banter.

Despite Regulus seemingly making fun of Barty’s tactics to spend more time with you, Evan knew he was internally happy for their best friend. The heavy expectations from his father has been taking a toll on Barty a lot, which caused some inner doubts to appear that almost always led to mental breakdowns that lasted longer than an hour. He never had been comfortable with anyone besides them and Pandora, and they were truly happy when you accepted Barty warmly without caring about the rumours or how people viewed him. It feels quite relieving to see Barty radiate happiness now.

However, the three of them comes to a halt in the hallway when a voice filled with distaste erupts from the courtyard, asking a particular question to a person no other than you.

“How can you even be with people like them?”

Barty, Evan, and Regulus glanced at one another before walking silently closer and peeking at the courtyard, seeing you sat on the cemented bench while playing Wizard’s Chess with Marlene, surrounded by your friends who were mostly Gryffindors. There’s only one Ravenclaw, the same house as Barty, yet he’s the one who questioned it.

You got distracted to his question as you tilt your head, “What are you talking about?”

The trio quickly ducks when the Marauders come running out of other hallways to the courtyard with loud laughters, definitely disturbing other students, and join you by the bench. Quickly noticing the strange silence, Remus tilted his head. “Why is everyone so quiet?”

“Because Leo asked how he can even spend time with people like them.” Marlene explains shortly with emphasis, which let everyone know exactly who they were talking about.

The werewolf sighs, covering his face and shaking his head. “We’re talking about this again?”

Barty wondered how much had he and his friends been the subject of your conversation, his guts twisting negatively.

“I still am unaware who you’re referring to,” You chimed in with visible confusion, now forgetting about the chess. Silence fills all of them, the Marauders and Lily glancing at each other as Marlene also can’t help but forget the chess, while your other Gryffindor friends look at you as if it’s strange that you still don’t pick up on it.

The Ravenclaw — Leo gives you a look, “Are you dense? I’m talking about Barty Crouch Jr. and his little goons.” He rolled his eyes.

You frowned, “They have a name, if you didn’t know. Regulus Black and Evan Rosier.”

Barty recognised the discomfort and disapproval in your tone, how you seemingly understood quickly that Leo intends to talk ill about them. He didn’t miss the way your shoulders tensed and body language display a defensive gesture, which rarely ever happens. You’re always accepting and welcoming of other people with that big smile plastered on your face; when your body language changes, that just means someone had overstepped your boundaries. No one else seem to realise it.

One of the Gryffindors, Beth, rolls her eyes and gives you a disgusted look. “I don’t know how you can be nice to those Death Eater freaks. Slytherins are literally evil, look at their ancestors!”

“Yeah, they also pick on almost everyone.” Karen agreed, crossing her arms. “I mean, can’t you see how much of a bad influence they are? Barty’s supposed to be hanging out with members from his own house yet here he is, and look how he turned out.”

“I bet his father’s really disappointed and disgusted,” Leo snickered, earning laughter from the two Gryffindor girls.

Lily, Marlene, and Dorcas pulsed their lips into a thin line as Remus and Peter frowned, clearly uncomfortable with the insults and comments that crosses the line, while James and Sirius fell silent since even though they had personal dislike for Slytherin, they wouldn’t go as far as your friends were going. Regulus is also Sirius’ brother, and he doesn’t like hearing anyone talk about his little brother like that.

When Sirius opened his mouth to defend his brother, the words end up being stuck in his throat after witnessing how your warm look morphed into an emotionless, expressionless face that made his blood run cold.

“You are fucking pathetic,” You snarled with a low and cold yet loud tone that had made the entire courtyard fall into utter silence as everyone — including others who were just around — look at you with wide, shocked eyes. Your friends visibly flinched at the piercing harsh glare you shot them, calm storms of rage swarming in your eyes that usually displayed warmness and light. They could easily see the way your jaw clenched, which was definitely a sign that they dug their own graves for strong lightning to strike them until they’re nothing but bones and flesh.

Barty also stops in track, finding himself surprisingly intimidated and a bit afraid. Regulus completely went still as Evan slapped a hand over his mouth in shock. It’s already surprising that a Hufflepuff cursed at someone, but to see you, someone who’s always smiling and accepting and kind and unbelievably patient, someone who’s the Golden Boy and practically a gift from divine beings who seemed as if you didn’t even know what anger meant, so enraged? It is beyond jawdropping.

“What—” Karen speaks, but you interrupt.

“Have you ever realised how obnoxious you all sound when you mind my business rather than your own?” You tilted your head, eyebrows furrowed in irritation. “It sounds like pathetic cunts who pretend they’re righteous when all they’ve ever been are prejudiced hypocrites who judge others solely on the houses they’re in. You’re much more horrible than the Death Eater freaks you’re talking about.”

“What the bloody hell is your problem!?” Beth shrieked.

“You and your goons, duh.” You retorted while shooting her a look, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

“Mistreating Slytherins for what their ancestors did is completely childish and immature, especially when it was out of their control. If their ancestors joined the Death Eaters, then the one to be blamed is not them but the ancestors themselves.” You shifted your cold gaze to Leo and Karen, “Yes, I’ve seen the three of them pick on others and told Bartemius to stop, which he did. James and Sirius pick on Snape and other Slytherins a lot, so why haven’t you barked about that yet? Is this a thing where it’s alright when you or other Gryffindors do it, but suddenly evil and terrible when they do it?”

Karen swallows thickly, trying to hold her head high. “That’s not what I meant.”

“Really?” Your mocking tone implied you believed nothing as you stand up from the bench, leaning closer to her. She avoided eye contact, fearful. “What the fuck did you mean then?”

“Why are you like this?” Leo asked, intimidated. “We haven’t done anything wrong.”

You shot him a side-eye, raising your brows. “Think with your brain, Ravenclaw. Why am I like this exactly and are you certain you haven’t done anything wrong?” You plastered on a fake smile, “Honestly, I’m not upset, Leo. I’m enraged. My blood’s boiling within my body. I’m certain you know what enraged means as you’re a clever Ravenclaw, don’t you?”

He bit his lip and looked down in shame.

Barty’s mouth fell agape; what the fuck, he didn’t know you can be so sarcastic like this.

Sighing deeply, you stared at him from head to toe and tilted your head, the corner of your lips twisted up. “Bartemius is clearly wiser and smarter, though.” You shrugged, “At least he knows not to befriend a cunt like you.”

Lily steps closer to stop you, “Hey… I think that’s enough.”

“Not precisely, Evans. And don’t think I don’t know about how you think of Bartemius as well.” You look at her, unimpressed.

“We were just worried about you...” She whispered softly.

“What’s there to be worried of?” You snapped. “You all are treating Bartemius as if he and his friends are cold-blooded murderers. You see someone spending time with people in green, silver tie and your first thought is they’re horrible. The reason they become evil and horrible is because of people like you. Because you can’t and refuse to believe there’s good in them, because you would rather believe they can be anything but good than actually see who they are. You cannot handle being non-judgmental.”

Remus and Peter couldn’t help but smile at the truth in your words. The others still can’t react to your unusual change.

You sneered at your former friends, “And I hope you know you’re fucking pathetic and disgusting.” Utter disdain filled your expression, “Find someone else to cling onto. I’d rather be with Bartemius than you imbeciles.” Barty smiles happily at that as he subconsciously slips out of the shadow and into the courtyard. Regulus and Evan follows, standing a couple of steps behind. The Marauders noticed them immediately, eyes widening.

Ignoring the tears blimming in the Gryffindors’ eyes, you turn around only to face them back again, stepping closer with a death glare. “By the way, Leo. You ever insult Bartemius like that again with that filthy mouth of yours and I’ll fucking hex you.” You threatened before stepping back and waving goodbye with a seemingly friendly smile.

Everyone watch you turn around and jump slightly after bumping into Barty, who instantly beamed with happiness and joy radiating off of him, another thing that flabbergasted everyone.

“Oh Merlin! Hey, B!” You greet with the welcoming look now back on your expression, smiling warmly. “How long have you been standing there? And Regulus and Evan too.”

“Since the beginning, although we were hiding before you defended us.” Barty chuckled, his friends smiling behind him. He was trying to seem casual, but everyone noticed how he failed to hide the smile that’s been threatening to spread fully across his face.

“Don’t mind them, B. They’re just bitter ‘cause you rejected Leo three months ago.” You giggle, feeling better and calm now that Barty’s around, shoulders relaxed and body language displaying peaceful comfortable gesture.

Barty felt his heart swell at the realisation that you truly trusted him and would never change your treatment of him no matter what anyone says, finally having the confirmation that he, in fact, does like you. Who wouldn’t when you’re this amazing? He was already feeling it, but to actually realise it was the right thing to happen? He can’t fucking contain it.

He can’t help but to shake his head with the biggest smile anyone has ever seen him have, “Bloody hell, I really do like you a lot.”

You froze at that.

Barty widened his eyes, about to take back, when you pulled him by his nape with one hand and kissed him gently. Evan whistled as Regulus let out a chuckle and high fived each other. Barely able to kiss you back, disappointment appears in his face after you pulled away too soon.

A smirk spreads across your lips, “You’ll get more later. You’re a good boy, after all.” You lightly tugged the hair on his nape before walking away and winking at Regulus and Evan.

“What— Wait— love, come on!” Barty stutters at the praise, flustered, as he immediately rushes off to follow you. His friends both turn around to follow him with their eyes, amusement written on their faces.

Regulus smirks, “Walk him like a dog.”

Evan instantly bursts into laughter. Well, at least he now has someone who will defend him in his name.

1K notes · View notes

ohthewh0rror · 1 year ago

Text

I’VE DUG TWO GRAVES FOR US, MY DEAR.

˚₊ ⋆ ☠︎︎ ⋆ ₊˚ prompt — “Can I request Tom riddle x (fem!) reader angst? Basically, they have been trying for a long time to have children, but haven’t succeeded. So, to have an heir, Tom gets Bellatrix pregnant and obviously hasn’t told reader. Reader finds out shes pregnant and goes to tell Tom and show him the pregnancy test, but right outside his study she hears him ask Bellatrix „how is my heir doing? Is my child healthy?“ and reader drops the test in front of his study, where Tom finds it later, and leaves.”

Part 2

Pairing: Tom Riddle x Reader

Word count: 3.6K

A/N: “but baaaabe, she doesn’t even mean anything to me” and for him he MEANS it, that’s the worst part. Oh god I’m going to be sick. I headcanon him as loyal and now he’s out here embarrassing me. Anyway, thank you to my best friend Madie for helping me choose the right ending for this and for proof-reading for me. To the requester: I didn’t take the suicide route bc that’s a very sensitive topic that I have personal ties to. But yeah, if anyone wants it I’m 100% down to write a part 2 to this.🖤🖤

You felt wrong.

Well, not exactly you, just something felt wrong. You felt on edge, tense, like you were just waiting for the galleon to drop. There was no explanation for the way you were feeling, at least not one you could think of. But you couldn’t help but feel on edge, your mind racing as you resisted the urge to continuously look over your shoulder throughout the day.

You had hoped that the feeling would be gone by the end of the day, but as you sat with Tom having dinner the feeling was still there. You wanted to hide it from him, but you just knew he could see the slight shake of your hand as you poked mindlessly with your fork at the food in front of you. Though, either out of courtesy to you or him just not wanting to deal with it at the moment, he didn’t ask.

No, it wouldn’t be until the two of you had gotten into bed for the night that he would.

As you settled into bed, you felt Tom’s arm wrap around your waist, pulling you close. While you would normally welcome this, as it was rare that Tom would hold you in such a way, the unusual action added to your sense of unease. You felt his lips press a kiss just behind your ear before he asked, “there’s something bothering you, what is it?”

You didn’t know how to tell him, or if you even wanted to tell him. You didn’t want Tom to think negatively of you, to think you were officially losing it, but a part of you knew Tom wasn’t going to drop it. What Tom wanted, Tom got, one way or another. So, reluctantly, you told him.

“I’m not sure, I just don’t feel right, not in a sick way but—,” you paused, mentally kicking yourself for admitting it out loud, “I feel as if something bad is about to happen, something very bad.” Tom said nothing, but you could feel his hold on you tighten just a fraction. There was a few seconds of silence before Tom finally spoke again, “I see, I’m sure you are alright, you probably just need to rest.”

You know this was his way of comforting you, but it did nothing to help how you felt. You tried taking his words to heart though, and forced yourself to relax, attempting to get some sleep.

6:23 am.

You stared at the ticking hands of the clock on the wall, watching them dutifully count the time, hoping the dullness of it all would help you fall back asleep. It did nothing to help you, though, and instead just aided in helping your mind wander. You went through every possibility, until you were left with two options.

Tom was up to something… or you were pregnant. You didn’t want to think of the first option, it was a thought that left you upset even considering, but he had been distant for the past 4 months. He did not treat you any different, but he seemed… distracted. Where he once did not mind if you opened his letters for him, he now tightly guarded them. You tried asking him why, but he said it was to protect you if things went bad. He attempted to explain your worries away, saying he did not want you implicated in anything he was up to.

Not to mention he was out the house more— Death Eater business, he tells you. Always that. It almost made you angry how much time he spent working towards his grand scheme when all you wanted was just some of his time. At first you tried to push back on it, but soon realized it did nothing to sway him. Tom did what he wanted, regardless of the feelings of others.

Despite all this you refuse to accept Tom may be up to something behind your back. He was your husband, and he loved you, even if he did not express it often. So that left you with one conclusion: you’re pregnant.

It was a possibility that had been hanging in the back of your mind, but not one you wanted to genuinely entertain. After years of trying and it being false alarms have left you with nothing but negative feelings towards the process of finding out. You did not want to get your hopes up once again, as each negative was becoming more and more unbearable.

You couldn’t just rule it out without taking a test though, so you had no choice but to do so. Not wanting to go to a healer and have them check on you magically, you decided to instead go about it the muggle way. You had heard during your younger years, while at Hogwarts, that muggle women had measures of finding out on their own in the comfort of their own bathroom. So that’s what you set off to do, after getting dressed of course.

Entering muggle London, it was hard not to stick out. While you tried to dress as casual as you possibly could, you knew there was still something off about how you dressed. No one seemed to mind though, letting you walk through the busy streets without much more than a double take. It didn’t take long for you to find what looked like a small store, you hoped to Merlin that they had what you needed.

As you walked around the small shop, you realized what you were doing was beyond ridiculous. You were truly out of your league as you browsed the aisles looking for what you needed. You were beginning to get frustrated when you heard a feminine voice from the left, “excuse me, miss, can I help you find something?”

You paused, stopping midstep, turning your head to look at who was speaking to you.

The girl, who couldn’t have been any older than 19, seemed to be a shop attendant. She had on what you could only guess was typical muggle attire, and a vest with the name of the shop on it. You nodded, “yes, I need the test that will tell me if I’m pregnant or not.”

The shop girl gave you a look, and you began to worry more that you were sticking out far too much. “You mean a pregnancy test?” She asked. “Yes, that,” you replied, hoping she would just show you where it was and stop talking to you. Thankfully she seemed to have read your mind, gesturing you to follow her. She took you to the aisle furthest back in the store, pointing out the shelf that was filled with a dozen different options. You thanked her, and she left you alone with all the different tests.

Looking over them all you picked the one you thought would be best, but as you held the test you had a revelation, ‘I have no muggle money’. You froze, now weighing your options. You could leave and convert the money, coming back at a later time, or you could just…take it. Leaving was the morally correct choice, but just taking it was the more tempting one as it would save you the trouble of explaining to Tom why you needed muggle money if word got back to him.

So, looking around and making sure no eyes were on you, you silently cast a spell, hiding the box from any prying eyes. As you walked out the store you couldn’t believe what you had done. Stealing? From a muggle establishment? How scandalous! As you walked down the street you shook your head, banishing the thought from your mind. You didn’t have time to worry about the ethics of stealing from muggles. You needed to know if you were pregnant.

Thankfully, it was a little easier to find a place to use the restroom. You sat on the toilet, reading the box, and the instructions seemed easy enough. You followed them exactly before capping the test, holding it in a way where the results faced away from you. You didn’t want to see the results, too scared of it being negative once again. After what you considered an appropriate amount of time, you flipped the test over.

Positive.

‘It’s wrong, it has to be,’ you thought to yourself as you eyed the muggle pregnancy test. The test was wrong, it’s a defective muggle device. You’d make an appointment with the healer as soon as possible until you could confirm it for sure and you’d keep it a secret from Tom until then. You didn’t want to tell him, only for it to be a false positive and get his hopes up fruitlessly.

So, you wrapped the test tightly and tossed it in the bin. Washing your hands, you made your way out of the muggle establishment, and to an empty corner before apparating to the edge of yours and Tom’s property. You stood there for a moment, taking in the site of your shared home, wishing you had some calming draught on hand.

You knew as soon as Tom saw you he’d know something was wrong. Tom had always said you weren’t a very good liar, and you knew with the state you were in right now that if he tried to pry your secret would come tumbling out before you had the chance to stop it.

You couldn’t stand out here all day though, the November air was more than chilly, and you were going to freeze if you didn’t go in soon. You took a steadying breath and walked forward with your head held high, taking your time to get to the doors, attempting to look casual. You were halfway up the set of stone stairs leading up to the front doors, when they began to open. For a split second you felt yourself panic on the inside, thinking maybe it was Tom who came to greet you, until your house elf Poppy came into view.

“Welcome back, madam,” the little elf said, ushering you in.

“Hello, Poppy,” you said. You had never been happier to see a house elf in your life. As Poppy shut the doors behind you, and she ushered you to the dining room, she informed you that Tom had already left for the day, leaving you to have breakfast alone. Normally that would have left you disappointed, you and Tom made sure to always eat breakfast and dinner together, and this would be the first time in a long time that you ate alone. But, after the morning you had, you relished in the absence of conversation.

“Poppy, please make an appointment for me with a healer,” you asked, sitting down at the dining table. Poppy nodded wordlessly before leaving you to go make the appointment.

It was a week later that you found yourself sitting in a sterile room, awaiting the results. You wanted so desperately for it to be true. You’d never recover if you found out the test had lied. Tom still didn’t know about the possibility of your pregnancy, but then again, it wasn’t hard to hide it from him with how busy he’d been this past week. And seeing as your mind was preoccupied, you hadn’t pushed on what had him so busy.

Just as your mind began to drift from boy names, to more feminine names, the door to your right clicked open. The healer gave you a bright smile, greeting you. The forced politeness left a bad taste in your mouth as you just wished for the results so you could get home. You gave a tight-lipped smile back, and a similar greeting. The healer stopped in front of you, flipping one of the papers up, quickly reading its contents before looking at you once again.

“Well, Mrs. Riddle, it seems you certainly are pregnant!” He congratulates you, before explaining how far along you seem to be and that he needs you back in a month. You’re still in a daze when he hands you the paperwork, telling you your diagnosis and other information regarding your pregnancy. It feels too good to be true, and you’re not sure if you should laugh, cry, or do both as you leave the office.

You’re pregnant. You’re actually pregnant. You walk down a secluded alley, casting the muffliato charm as you buried your head in your hard, a soft cry erupting from you. You both had tried so hard for so long and it’s finally happening, you are finally having the child you both wanted. You let yourself cry from the overwhelming feeling of happiness for a moment longer before collecting yourself. You needed to tell Tom, you knew this was just the news he needed.

Tom was working from home today, something you had never been so happy about before today. It made the process of talking to him much easier than if he left to Merlin-knows-where to do what he needed. But, as you walked up those stairs to the hallway that his office was down you felt your heart plummet.

Tom was here, but so was another woman.

You quieted your steps, hoping to figure out who the woman was and what they were talking about. It was difficult as the door was mostly shut and they were talking in hushed tones. But, as you stepped off the stairs and into the hallway you recognized the voice of the woman immediately.

Bellatrix Lestrange.

A woman that you held more than just disdain for. She is the only female Death Eater Tom has recruited, and not only that, she was his second in command. While Tom didn’t see any of his Death Eaters as true equals, even you knew he seemed to favor her over the rest of them. Bellatrix seemed to revel in this fact, and despite being married herself, her loyalty seemed to lay more with your husband than her own. She did whatever Tom asked, no matter what it may be, without even a hint of resistance. You truly believe if Tom asked her to kill herself, she would do it without hesitation.

As you walked closer to the door they seemed to have stopped talking, but before you could knock and let yourself be known, you heard something that knocked the breath out of your lungs.

“You had a check-up last week, did you not? How is my heir?” Tom sounded casual, as if he was asking Bellatrix about the weather. His heir? His heir? Your mind was sent reeling as you began to hyperventilate. You quietly backed away from the door, walking as silently but also as quickly as you could away. But, as you turned to leave you nearly tripped over your own two feet, the papers you were holding falling to the ground. In your distress you left them, not being bothered to pick them up, as you caught yourself and hurried down the hallway intent on putting space between yourself and the cracked office door.

You found yourself in a guest room on the other side of the house, away from Tom and Bellatrix, away from the source of your heartbreak. You sit on the edge of the bed, and cast the muffliato charm for the second time today. After you cast the spell, you finally let yourself feel completely. Your heart shatters into tiny crystallized bits, the shards of it dig into every crevice of your sternum, leaving you clutching at your chest as it pierces your lungs and esophagus. Your chest and throat have an indescribable ache as a piercing wail leaves you, the pain of his betrayal leaving you feeling something beyond devastation.

The knowledge that he cheated on you was painful enough, but the fact that it was Bellatrix made it all the more painful. He knew how you felt toward their dynamic and his trust in her. It was as if he chose her on purpose, to tell her that Bellatrix is a more suitable partner for him.

How Bellatrix was everything she wasn’t: unwaveringly devoted to him, believed in his pureblood ideology, and stood by him on it. Bellatrix could also give him children, and she couldn’t.

Or so he thought. He didn’t know she was pregnant yet. Maybe that was for the best, you considered, as you sat in that empty room, fingers wringing together painfully as you tried to calm yourself. As you attempted to gather yourself, knocking on the door began to reverberate throughout the room, causing a panic inside you. You cleared your throat, and took in a breath, hoping to gather yourself before addressing who was on the other side. Lifting your wand you released the muffling charm, “come in.”

Your voice still wobbled as the words left you, leaving you mentally kicking yourself. The door opened, revealing Tom, on the other side. As he took in the sight of you, sniffling and teary-eyed, he walked in completely, softly shutting the door behind him. Looking at him sent a surge of anguish through you, a new wave of tears gathering in your eyes. The vision of Tom doubled as your lips began to wobble as you held back your tears. You were unable to see the look on Tom’s face as you looked away, trying to calm yourself once again, so you weren’t quite sure what he was thinking.

Getting on one knee before you, Tom placed his left hand on your knee as his right reached up, wiping at your tear streaked face. You let out a shuddering breath, finally looking at him. Tom’s face was the most expressive you’d ever seen it, if you hadn’t been in such a miserable state you would have taken a moment to admire it.

There was a look of genuine worry on his face as the both of you looked at each other. The silence was suffocating, but you couldn’t find it in yourself to be the one to break it. There was nothing you wanted to say to him, you could hardly bear to look at him, much less talk to him.

“Why are you upset, darling? This is wonderful news” Tom sounded sympathetic in his attempt to comfort you. You let out a laugh in disbelief, you could not believe the words coming out of his mouth. “Wonderful news? In what world is this ‘wonderful news’?” You were close to yelling by the time you finished talking, feeling your sadness morph into something far uglier: anger. Tom at least had the decency to look taken aback, seeming to not expect the response he received.

Tom’s eyes searched yours for a moment before his expression became guarded, he gave your hand a squeeze before standing up, “it seems we are talking about two different things.”

You said nothing, there was nothing you could say that he hadn’t just deduced for himself, and it seemed he knew that too as he continued speaking.

“Y/N, you have to understand, I needed to ensure I had an heir and we hadn’t been successful in getting you pregnant,” Tom tried to explain. You’re sure in his head that this was logical, just the rational choice to get around your fertility issues. But to you, this was anything but the best next step. There was no reasoning good enough to make this okay; it will never be okay. This is a wound that may scar over, but will always ache when brushed against.

“You had an affair with a woman who I already voiced my concern about, without even consulting me on your decision, and expect me to understand?” You asked, incredulously. Tom, though looking mildly annoyed, still had the decency to also seem a touch guilty. “I didn’t step out of our marriage for pleasure or some sort of validation, you've always been the only one for me, it was merely to—” you decide to cut him off. “Produce an heir,” was all you said, finishing his sentence for him.

A heavy silence hung in the air, what you said leaving a palpable bitterness in the air. Tom still had the same touch of guilt in his eyes, but it wasn't enough. The guilt wasn’t strong enough to let him take full accountability for how wrong he was. Tom reached out, his hands cupping the back of your neck as his thumbs grazed your jawline, forcing you to look at him.

“It will be okay, I made a mistake by not telling you my plans, I apologize,” Tom may have sounded sincere, but it wasn’t good enough. Nothing will ever make up for what he has done to not only your relationship, but also to your trust in him. You reached up, and gently removed his hands from your face before standing up yourself, forcing him to take a few steps back.

“No, it’s not going to be okay; it will never be ‘okay’. You didn’t just make a mistake, you ruined our marriage, and for that, Tom, I hate you.”

And you left.

Leaving your husband to stand in that spare room, alone, with only his thoughts to keep him company.

#tom riddle #tom riddle imagine #tom riddle x reader #tom riddle x y/n #tom riddle x you #if this flops I’ll cry

775 notes · View notes