#ron would be beloved by all nurses and that tells you all you need to know
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saintsenara · 9 months ago
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What do you think of the trio's post-canon careers? Because recently, something that has really captured my imagination has been the idea of healer Ron.
The profession, of course, most often crops up in Dramione fic where Hermione has taken up at St. Mungo's (laughable-- this is a girl who needed Harry to unstopper the dittany because her hands were shaking so bad, and frankly, I shudder to think of her bedside manner) but it is predictably absent when veering off the canon course with Ron. This is such a shame because his willow wand is outright good for healing magic (and it is a fairly uncommon combination that he has! The only other person with a willow and unicorn wand, fascinatingly enough, is Lily Potter.)
Ron is also the only person who's canonically interested in healing as a profession (he's immersed in the leaflet for it at breakfast.) He remembers the spattergroit incident from OOTP and then uses it as a cover story in DH. In Half-blood Prince, he takes the exact same classes Harry does, which means he has the grades required to go into auror training, yes, but they are coincidentally the same requirements a student needs to meet in order to apply to be a healer. (On that note: Ron and Harry were clearly high academic achievers and the fanon assertion otherwise needs to be beat back with hammers.)
But the reason why I think healer ron would've been a cracker of a route to go down is just how refreshing it would've been. The Girl of the team, the gang, the trio, being the Healer and Caretaker is such a TRITE trope at this point. DADA Professor Harry is a classic, but this is my case for Healer Ron deserving to be up there. Send his ass back to Hogwarts again if you have to (Hermione will definitely be pleased). Have him intern with Madam Pomfrey for a year and then grumble behind Neville while he takes notes on medicinal herbs. Healer Weasley, who's a big hit in the paediatrics ward because he makes the kids laugh. Who flirts with the oldies and plays chess with the curmudgeons. Who just cares, more than anything, and will bring you a cup of tea no matter the hour, no questions asked. I really do think he's got the disposition for it. What do you reckon?
thank you very much for the ask, anon!
i am immediately compelled by the concept of ron-versus-wizarding-medicine. because, certainly, i never see him as someone who stays in the auror office long-term - i think it makes sense for him immediately post-war, especially when he will undoubtedly just want to keep busy and hunt down baddies as a reaction to fred's death, but i think he only stays in the role after this initial burst of vengeance until he feels comfortable leaving harry in a high-risk situation on his own.
because, of course, ron's vibe with everything he touches in canon is influenced by the fact that he's someone predisposed to being caring [right down, as you say, to his wand]. the bit in prisoner of azkaban when he offers to make a cup of tea while hagrid's in hysterics about buckbeak's death sentence is something i find genuinely lovely, for example, and i do think - as you note - that there's something really striking about ron occupying that caring role within the trio which a fanon deviation to trite gender dynamics in which men are stupid and women are nurturing undermines in a supremely tedious way.
i'm not sure, though, that i would back ron in any specialism of healing that could be classed as emergency medicine - he has the vibe of, and i mean this with great affection, the sort of surgeon who habitually leaves sponges behind in patients - but i would back him in specialisms which need to be a bit more holistic or slower in pace. his chess skills - and his good intuition - suggest to me that he'd be a pretty effective diagnostician, and i obviously think he'd have a great bedside manner.
healer ron, then, is going to be at his best, absolutely, in something like paediatrics, which means that i'm going to take your suggestion about him interning with madam pomfrey and run with it to say that ron as hogwarts matron [or whatever the non-gendered version of that term would be] is his ideal career.
think about it! the work's varied and sometimes complicated, but it's not too high-pressure because really serious cases will be sent to st mungo's. the work will frequently relate to things that ron is interested in, like quidditch. and the work will frequently require ron's key talent - being sound - to shine. this is a man who would do an excellent job, i think, of handling mishaps caused by teenagers trying to hex their own acne off, or offering tea and sympathy to the homesick or the recently dumped. i think he'd do a great sex-ed presentation, would manage to charm honeydukes into giving the school its medicinal chocolate at a huge discount, and would be considered a huge legend by the student body for always being willing to certify to the teachers that someone who used a puking pastille to get out of class was actually sick.
as for the other two, i much prefer hermione as a barrister than as a civil-servant - not just because of her temperament but because i think the change she wants to bring to wizarding society is going to be won primarily by her slapping on a wig and gown and being condescending to witnesses.
as for harry, i like to stick to him as an auror. while i have some exceptions, i'm actually really not fond at all of professor potter as a trope - and, even more controversially, i really don't like the concept of professor riddle - largely because teaching is far too sedate for someone who runs on adrenaline as much as harry does.
and - i must be honest - i think the idea of harry as a teacher [or a healer or a quidditch player] often hangs on people feeling uncomfortable with the idea of him as, to all intents and purposes, a police officer. but i quite like taking that in the opposite direction, and playing with harry's canonically black-and-white morality and capacity for self-righteousness to have him - while not a corrupt or sadistic auror - a complacent one. i like the idea of him as someone who thinks that he always applies the law justly and so the law is therefore just, and so on - and the fact that this would allow him to overlook his own childhood lawbreaking is part of that...
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citydreamgrls · 4 years ago
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they were roommates- part eight
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a weasley twins x fem!reader fic
summary: she had nowhere to go, fleeing home to pursue something along the lines of freedom, so being welcomed into the entrepreneurial twins life was a whole world of new experiences waiting to happen.
an: hi, first off i want to say ty for 1k followers i am GOBSMACKED. secondly, this was supposed to be the final part to this series :( but honestly I felt like i didn’t want to carry on this part when i had much more intended for another part, so there will be a part 9 to this series and that WILL be the final part. thank you everyone for being amazing, as always <333
words: 9,336
Visions of the cove came back to Fred as he slept, flashes of gentle waters turning into threatening waves. He tossed his body around for most of the night, struggling to understand what the missing piece was in his half-drunken slumber.
Then the screams had sounded within his nightmare, the sight of the beloved girl sinking into the sand as he found himself bound up on the private beach, unable to reach out and save her. All he could do was shout out for her until his throat ran dry.
“Y/n…” He mumbled as he woke, fearing that the unruly dream had become reality when he looked over to her side of the bed. Empty.
Maybe she was in the kitchen, or maybe she had slept in her room. There were a number of explanations for why she wasn’t beside him that very second, but the man couldn’t help but fear for the worst when he saw the untouched pillow.
“George!” He shouted, the noise echoing throughout the loft. His brother emerged from the hallway as he raced down the stairs with panic.
“What is it- hey! What’s wrong?” “Where’s y/n?” He asked shakily.
“Haven’t seen her, I thought she was sleeping with you?” “She’s not here,” Fred began to pace the living room, worrying about her absence above anything else.
“Then check downstairs she’s probably getting dressed.” As much as George knew he should be concerned about it all, he hated to jump to conclusions- especially when they hadn’t explored every possible reason for her being gone.
The twins wasted no time rushing down to the shop, the alley outside still quiet in the early morning. Fred pushed her door open, staring down at the room before him with a silent cry. George was close behind, quick to catch the other man’s body before it hit the ground.
“Hey - come on, she might have just popped out.” He tried to reason, but even his heart told him differently.
“I can tell, okay… it feels like that night all over again.” “It won’t be, I promise you Freddie- what the hell is that noise?” George’s attention was taken by a faint shout sounding out in the alley, one that they could only hear by the girl’s bedroom window. Fred didn’t seem bothered, presuming that his brother was just trying to distract him from the harsh reality that y/n was gone.
“D-Do you think it was those guys?” He asked from the doorway, his back propped against the wall.
“It sounds like someone’s out there…” George ignored.
“Georgie! I asked you someth-” “Shhh- It sounds like… no... “ “What? I can’t hear anything” “Come on.” The man moved away quickly, leaving Freddie to scramble to his feet alone and chase him through the shop.
“What the hell are you doing, we need to find y/n!” He hissed out, following as George burst out of the front door, the small jingle behind them seeming like an understatement. He followed the noise through the alley like a dog, forgetting that he was only in pyjamas. “You don’t even have shoes on!” The other man tried to tell him, but there was no use.
But the closer they got, the louder the shouts became, and even Fred couldn’t deny it any longer. It was desperate, but subdued, like whoever was crying for help had been doing so for hours now. It was a painful sound when they reached where the person was, both men stopping at the entrance of the particular street to take in the strange sight before them.
“Neville?” Both twins asked, quaintly reminiscent of the way they had spoken his name in unison back when they all went to Hogwarts together. This time, however, was slightly different. This time Neville Longbottom was tied up and gagged, left with bruises all over his face.
“Oh god, what the hell happened to you?” Fred rushed forwards, pulling the strip of fabric from his mouth and untying his hands as he told them.
“She’s gone,” Neville cried, tears streaming down his face. “I’m so sorry, I tried to stop him, but h-he had a knife, and he knew where Hannah was. I couldn’t warn y/n in time, he’d already taken her by then.”
“Taken! Taken where?” The man urged, pulling his friend to his feet once the restraints were gone.
“I don’t know- he knocked me out once he had her.”
“Well what did he look like- did he mention anyone else? Was it those guys who broke in here?” Fred couldn’t stop asking him questions, constantly thinking up something else that he might need to know about the missing girl’s assailant.
“Hey, give him some space freddie.” George held his brother’s shoulder, seeing how scarily focused his eyes had become. “Why don’t we get Nev back to the inn, then we can all decide what to do.” The man nodded silently, standing aside to let his twin take Neville’s arm and help limp him through the alley and towards the leaky cauldron.
He was too beaten up to help, but they could get the other’s, they needed others. Whoever had taken y/n meant business, so Fred knew that in order to get her back alive, he would need as many people on his side.
“I’ll catch up with you guys!” He called, taking a different route through the streets and ending up back at the loft. He grabbed some clothes and a jacket and made haste to the floo line, taking a single clarifying breath before he announced where he wanted to go.
“The burrow!”
-
Molly Weasley was nursing a hangover in her kitchen, enjoying the peaceful morning and the sun which beamed onto her skin through an open window. Arthur was in his armchair, skimming over the business section of that day’s prophet and cursing the way that Ginny stomped around in her room above him, making him restart the paragraph numerous times.
The girl in question sloped down to her mother, a scowl on her face when she saw a list of chores written on the chalkboard. Ones that she was no doubt expected to do, regardless of the fact that she would be leaving that afternoon.
“Drink this Ginny darling, you’ll feel much better.” Molly held out a beaker to her daughter, filled with some strange blue liquid. It looked like a hangover cure and certainly smelt like one too, but when Ginny tasted the drink, it was hard to hide her disgust. So she held her breath and chugged it down fast, hoping the other two glasses that sat on the counter weren’t also for her.
“See to it that Harry and Ron take them too will you, they’re still asleep I presume?” Molly questioned.
“Nope, both headed out for a fly early this morning, probably stopped by the lake to watch the sunrise, like the pair of pansies they are.” She scoffed, biting back the urge to hurl at the blue liquid’s aftertaste.
“Well then they’ll be fine without these!”
“If I had to suffer through it then so should they.” Ginny argued, seeing a small wince on her mother's face when she slightly raised her voice. “Sorry, I’ll make sure they take it, okay?”
The older woman nodded, mumbling something about laundry before heading off to the garden. Ginny was about to make some coffee, the one thing she praised Hermione for teaching her about, when there was a flash from the family’s floo line, followed by a concoction of panicked shouts.
“What - what is it?” She asked, careering into the hallway to see Fred steaming through the house in search of familiar faces.
“Ginny!” He looked relieved to see her, something that was out of the ordinary for the man. “Where is everyone?” His eyes were wild, scanning around her like he was expecting a ghost to jump him.
“Dad’s in the living room, mum’s outside- hey what’s going on?” She followed him as he went in search of his parent’s, Arthur looked up from his paper when his son walked in.
“Hello Fred my boy, how come you’re here?” The man checked his watch with a frown, only noticing Freddie now that he had shown himself. Arthur had perfected the art of blocking out loud noises in his own home, given the amount of children he had, it was something he had no choice over.
“I need everyone at the leaky cauldron … now!” He announced, pacing about to try and find the rest.
“Tell us what’s going on.” Ginny grabbed his shoulders, pushing him onto the nearby sofa with a grunt. The girl always was stronger than she looked.
“It’s y/n, she’s been taken.” “She’s been WHAT!” Molly screeched, having only heard the end of their exchange as she came back into the burrow with a pile of clean clothes in hand. They fell to the floor in shock.
“Mum! You and dad go to the leaky, Fred will explain more-” Ginny started, seeing that no one in the room was in a right state of mind. “-I’ll go get the boys from the lake.” The two parents nodded, gathering their jackets and heading to the floo.
“I need to get Bill, will he be at work already?” Fred asked his sister.
“He should just be getting in now.” She told him, not wasting a single second before grabbing her broom to fetch Ron and Harry from their lake. “Now GO!”
Fred jumped into action, apparating back to diagon alley and weaving through the hoards of people walking into their bank to start their day. He managed to get into the first open lift, looking very out of place amongst the group of serious businessmen.
“Bill!” He didn’t dare knock on the door to his brother’s office, instead opted that forcing his way inside would express the severity a bit better instead. The man inside jumped at the intrusion, knocking the cup of coffee all over his desk in momentary shock.
“What the hell Fred, what are you doing here?” He frowned, mopping up the mess with silent curses.
“We need to go now, y/n’s been taken… Neville tried to stop it but the guys had a knife.” It took no more than that to get Bill to his feet, following his younger brother silently as he explained more on their way back down to the alley.
“Does anyone know where she could be?” He asked.
“Not for certain, but I have some ideas.” Fred huffed, out of breath from all the running he had done that morning. Still, he kept a fast pace to make it to the leaky before anything worse happened.
The inn was quiet, barely anyone around at that hour of the morning. Everyone was gathered inside, gathering as much information as they could from Hannah and Neville as they waited for Fred to return with his older brother.
“Are we all here?” George asked, letting everyone take a seat before speaking directly to the small ground of their friends and family. “Good. Now Neville was the only one to see the guy who took y/n, he was tall, hooded and held a knife up to his throat.”
Neville sat in Hannah’s arms, obviously still shaken up from being left out in the cold all night. His wife nodded along to George’s words with empty eyes, trying to rack her brain for anyone who took a strange liking to the girl when she still worked for them. Then again, that was the majority of men who came in, it would take months to whittle it down.
“Once he had y/n, the man knocked him out- so that’s all we know. Whoever he was he didn’t want anyone else knowing about it till morning, that’s why he tied Neville up.” Everyone was silent, unsure if they knew anything at all that could help. Still, they wanted to be there to do something to save the girl.
“Has y/n said anything recently that would suggest she was being followed, or did you notice her acting strange?” Arthur spoke up, all of his children shaking their heads.
Fred felt the most useless out of them all. If y/n had known anything, or noticed something was off, she would have told him right? Or was he overestimating how much the girl trusted him, after all, he hadn’t been there to stop those guys from breaking in.
“I don’t think this was a random attack, he knew what he was doing.” Neville’s voice was quiet, even amongst the shared silence.
“How do you mean?” George asked, leaning against the bar in desperate defeat, wracking his brain for where she could be.
“Whoever he was, he knew where to find her- who she was.” “So he was looking for her?” Fred spun round, his neck clicking in the process, even his body hadn’t woken up yet.
“I think he only took me because I saw him outside the shop, and knew I would be suspicious of it.”
The group nodded in agreement. This couldn’t be the same men from the break-in, they were locked up now under Kingsley’s demand. This was a targeted kidnapping, someone had sent this man after y/n. But, who would want her back that badly?
“Her parents.” Fred said, a murmur of understanding waving over the others as it clicked in their minds. “It has to be them, who else would go to such lengths.” “But how do we find them?” Ginny asked. “I mean, no one knows where they live right?”
Everyone shook their heads, murmuring ideas on how they could track her family home down, that was where she had to be.
“Actually,” Hannah stood up, making sure Neville was stable enough before letting go of him. “I might have some old paperwork in my office, I can’t remember for sure if there’s anything on it- but it’s worth a look right?” George nodded, giving Fred a sympathetic look as it was obvious he was struggling to come to terms with the situation. He had just gotten his life back, he was happy, they were happy and they were finally together. And now there was a chance she could be gone for good. It was a lot to deal with.
“Thanks Han,” He mumbled, when the lady passed him, stopping to squeeze his shoulder in meek support.
“Right, can you guys go find Hermione?” George asked Ginny and Ron. “See if she can find any records about the girl, or her parents.” The duo stood quickly, sending a patronas to the girl in question to get her up to speeds before they arrived.
But before they even had a chance to reach the door a flash of blue light fluttered in through the open window, freezing everyone in their steps. The little dove flew over to Fred, who eyes it curiously, no one seemed to recognise it. That was until it started screaming out it’s message in a disturbingly recognisable voice.
“Fred I’m sorry, I tried to fight him-” The voice lowered, as if someone was nearby her. “Come to crag hall,” She was out of breath and shaky as she spoke, all the while the dove floated through the air calmly. “Please be quick, they’re going to- no… no!” She screamed out, the message cut off just as she pleaded with whoever was in the room with her.
There was a tense silence throughout those inside the inn once her voice stopped, no one wanting to speak in case they missed something. But the dove disappeared into thin air, and she was gone again.
“They’ll have taken her wand.” Bill said, mostly to himself, trying to piece together what they knew in an attempt to help.
“Crag hall.” Fred whispered. “She said go to Crag hall… w-where is that?” He searched the room, praying that someone would recognise the name.
“It’s far.” Molly said, all eyes on her. “About three hours from london.”
“But we can apparate, yes?” George pushed her, suddenly more optimistic now that they had a chance to get her.
“Not all together of course, that would be dangerous.” She explained.
“Then we’ll go in pairs, signal back for the next group to come when we know it’s safe to do so.” George announced.
“I’ll go first, scout for any wards.” Fred told his brother, seeing the look of hesitation that George pushed away, knowing there was no convincing him otherwise.
“I’m coming with you.” Ginny said.
“No, it’s too dangerous. You stay back with Bill.”
“She’s my best friend. I'm not arguing about this.” The girl, unfortunately, was just as determined and stubborn as the rest of them.
“Fine, but you stay close- and you listen to what I tell you okay? We don’t know these people, they could be armed.” He took a deep breath, trying to fight away the feeling of impending doom that came along with all the uncertainty.
“Right. Bill, you’ll come with me, then Harry and Ron- mum, dad you’ll be the last okay?” The parents nodded and Molly silently thanked her son for letting her make sure they all got there okay before heading in herself.
Suddenly the inn’s door burst open and a very smartly dressed Hermione stumbled into the group, catching her breath with a small wheeze.
“I’m coming too.” She told them, holding her hand up when Ron tried to protest it. “Ginny?”
“Best friend card and all, you can’t stop her.” She told her brother and he shook his head in defeat, knowing the girl’s were both fiery enough to handle themselves if need be.
“You can come with me and Bill, the second group.” The girl nodded, stripping off her stiff suit jacket and transfiguring her pencil skirt into a pair of jeans. “If anything goes wrong with the trip- if any of you get hurt at all, then you hide.” Fred told them all, taking all the confidence he had within him and spewing it into the small speech. “It would be too risky to try and get back alone, so just stay hidden and we can get you when it’s over.” Everyone nodded, hoping that they wouldn’t need to utilise the advice given.
Fred stood, holding Ginny’s hand and looked over the room.
“Let us know as soon as you see anything,” George told them. The pair nodded in unison, ignoring Molly’s worried gaze as she watched them disapparate from the room with a loud crack.
-
Ginny felt like someone was crushing her lungs when they landed amongst the wall of trees just outside the grounds of Crag hall. The girl had tried to cough out, reaching around desperately for her brother who was struggling to find his feet.
The sheer distance they had travelled was dangerous, especially when it was two of them, but Fred knew as he held a hand over his sister’s mouth that the pain would eventually subside.
“Shhh, Gin.” The girl writhed beneath him as he watched the clearing ahead, where the house stood surrounded by walled gardens. “I’m sorry.” He whispered, not daring to draw any attention to themselves, just in case there were guards patrolling. “It’ll pass… I promise.”
Once she could breath without hacking her throat away, Ginny surveyed the sight before them, trying to plan out how they could approach unnoticed.
“Do you think there will be wards set up?” She asked her brother who crouched beside her, always watching behind them in case someone wanted to sneak up.
“Hard to tell. Chances are they presumed no one knew about this place, so they didn’t bother.” “But the patronus-” “Exactly, with any luck we can try and get through before they’re set up.” He explained.
There was a group of three men stationed at the front gates to the property, unknowing of the Weasleys’ presence.
“No one’s patrolling this side, send a message to George- tell him that it’s clear now- but to watch out for anymore guards.” “What about that lot?” “We have to take them ourselves.” He looked down, seeing a look of apprehension on the girl’s face. It had been a very long time since he had seen her intimidated.
“Hey, if we don’t do it then it’s risking the others- we got lucky.” Ginny nodded along, knowing that they had no other choice but to take them out, and quietly too.
The man took her hand, running a little further along the tree line before heading to the closest side of the walled garden. He boosted the girl up over it, watching carefully as she balanced herself and crouched low above it.
“I’ll take them from up here, catch them off guard- you get them from behind.” She told the man, before sneaking along the high wall.
Fred propelled himself into the neatly arranged flowerbed, suppressing his groan when he landed on his back, hoping that no one had heard the thud his body had made. There wasn’t enough time to think it through though, when there was a surprised shout and the sound of hexes flying through the air.
The noises silenced quickly as the man raced through the shrubbery towards the front gates, but the flashes of coloured light still appeared above the bushes that blocked his view of the fight.
Ginny, however, was someone Fred didn’t need to worry about. She had petrified one of the guards upon sight, before cutting the other two’s shouts with a silencing charm. That had given her an upper hand as she jumped down from the wall to avoid a hex being thrown her way.
Despite using her head, these men were twice her size, and wanted to use that against her. One of them lunged forward, trying to seize her as the other dodged around him with his wand outstretched.
But because of the guard tackling Ginny, it meant he couldn’t risk casting anything towards them in case he hit the wrong one. But it kept them busy long enough for Fred to stun the man from behind, before ripping the other off his little sister with a suppressed growl.
Once he had been stunned and tied up, along with the other two, Ginny sent her patronus to the others, warning them of other possible guards. The two kept to the edges of the walled garden, with the hopes that they could sneak up on the hall without causing anymore commotion.
The building was tall, with a very open courtyard preceding it.
“Through there,” Fred whispered, pointing to the nearest door on the left side of the house. “We should avoid being out in the open.” He told her.
-
Y/n watched out of her bedroom window, wandless and alone, in a room that felt like it had belonged to a ghost. She felt like a ghost, just waiting for the worst to happen. The night had gone by with her knocked out, only to be woken up by her mother’s serpent-like eyes watching over her.
Little words were exchanged, knowing that whatever she said would only hurt her case even more. So the girl opted for silence whenever someone would sit in, only to watch her mope around by the window like a forgotten lover.
Fred. He was all she could think about. She wondered whether he knew the truth, if Neville was okay, if he had been able to tell them what happened. One of her parent’s henchmen had come in while she was casting her patronus, cutting it off when he wrenched the wand from her hands. All the girl could hope was that it actually made it to them.
One of the head maids came into the room, her eyes sunken like she had aged several years in the space of a few months.
“Madam has requested you in the ballroom.” The woman hung a long black dress bag, sealed up, on the back of her door. She stayed firmly in her spot, all the while watching the floor, as if she couldn’t bring herself to look at the poor girl.
“What is it?” The girl rasped out, her throat raw from all the sobbing she had already done. Now it felt like she couldn’t cry again, regardless of what happened.
“Madam would like you to change into this, I must assist.”
The girl frowned, not one for confrontation, especially not with someone who so obviously didn’t deserve it. But it was frustrating how little the maid was telling her. So instead of lashing out, y/n walked over to the bag and pulled on its zipper.
Her breath held in her throat, lodged. Before her was a long, white dress. Hung lifeless before her. Something inside her felt like this was a joke, but then she remembered where she was and her heart crumbled.
“I-I don’t understand?” She turned to the woman beside her, her hands clutching shakily against the silk fabric that draped like curtains.
“This is all I can say mistress.” “Please.” She begged. “Help me… please don’t let this happen.” The girl turned hysterical, her knees failing as she crashed to the floor with a wail of desperation.
It shouldn’t be like this. It should be later, it should be when she wants it, with who she wants it with.
With Fred.
-
The group followed Fred and Ginny’s warnings, watching out for extra guards and taking them down as quietly as they could. One by one they joined each other inside the grounds, in a secluded spot away from the windows.
Fred was adamant to get inside but Ginny had stopped him, reminding the man that what they were walking into was unknown. For all they knew y/n’s parents could have a whole army waiting for them.
“What are you and your wand gonna do against a whole house of people eh?” She had hissed to him, which finally hit home that he couldn’t just rush in and save the girl that easily.
So they waited, and snuck in together, keeping Mr and Mrs Weasley in the rear to watch out for anyone who could follow them.
“I don’t like this.” George had whispered, catching up with his brother at the front of the group. “It’s too quiet.” Admittedly they were walking through what looked to be an old service entrance, the dust and cobwebs indicating that no one had used it in a good few years. But still, houses like these echoed, and yet there wasn’t a single sound coming from anywhere else above them.
-
The girl begged and begged, but she couldn’t escape her fate. The maid had tried to coax her into the wedding dress kindly, warning her that if she didn’t do as her parents said then there would be consequences.
In the end, one of the men who had been keeping watch outside her bedroom ended up coming inside. He had heard the desperate commotion and told the girl to keep quiet. When she, yet again, refused to change the man had stunned her.
When she came to the room was spinning like a carousel, the lights of the chandelier blurring into one on the ceiling. That was when the girl realised she was no longer in the moderate safety of her bedroom anymore.
The silk burnt her skin. It shouldn’t have, but it did and it flared across every inch of her body like a raging forest fire. She tried to move, but someone had her tied again, bound at the wrists and ankles. What a sight she must have been, curled up in a wedding dress and left on the floor of her family’s ballroom.
Her murmurs of confusion alerted two other men in the room, dressed the same as the one who had knocked her out and the one who had taken her from diagon alley.
“Come come sweetie, why don’t we get you on your feet.” His voice sickened her from across the room, he looked at her with a smug sense of pride. It was like he was a hunter and she was his prize catch of the day all dressed in white.
“Where’s Neville?” Her voice was still scratchy, it sounded pathetic against the deep acoustics of the room.
“The quivering mess of a man?” The beast holding her spat, his teeth bared at her cheeks. “I’d barely call him a man-” Another one of them scoffed.
“Now now, we’re graced enough to see a beautiful ceremony today boys, let’s be respectful.” The kidnapper smiled, demanding the attention of everyone who dared speak against him.
“I don’t understand,” She tried to force herself away from the two men’s grip, but they held tight, keeping her as still as they could.
“Well… that’s not for me to explain pretty lady.” He laughed, pacing up and down the room.
“Who will?” The double doors opened behind them, making everyone turn to see. Y/n stumbled slightly, her feet still bound together.
“Let her go, I will not have my daughter married off in shackles.” His voice boomed, louder than anyone else's as he commanded the henchmen to free her. Still they held onto her, making sure she would not run off.
“Father- please!” The girl begged, dropping to her knees, “You can’t do this to me!” “This marriage is happening young lady, whether you’re happy about it or not.” The shrill tone was easy to guess, without her even coming into sight for another few seconds.
“Mother, I’m begging- just let me go… I-I won’t bother either of you ever again!”
“Stand up.” She commanded, her presence daunting even to those watching over her like a prisoner. “You should have considered that before you ran off and tarnished our family name… it is too late for you to redeem yourself- this is our only option.” The woman explained curtly, before taking her place at the side of the girl’s father.
“Besides-” The kidnapper neared her as she wriggled beneath the two men’s arms, lifting her back to her feet. “I’ve heard your groom-to-be  is quite the catch.” He winked.
-
Harry and Ron took down two more guards while George and Fred tried to find their way through the complex labyrinth which was Crag hall, stunning any staff who got in their way.
“Try through there?” George suggested, but it took them to yet another dead end.
“We’re never gonna find her like this, and who knows how the others are getting on.” Fred complained, not wasting a single second before retracing their steps and trying a different direction.
Bill and Hermione came careering round a corner, the older man just managing to get out of the way of a stray hex when the girl pulled him into an empty room.
“What are you doing here?” He asked the two men, but George was already running after whoever had attacked them.
“It’s a dead end, half of this place is empty- George was right, something’s wrong.” Fred huffed, out of breath from bursting through multiple locked doors.
“Maybe they’re all in one place.” Hermione offered up, which was the first good idea anyone had suggested all day. “You know, if they need y/n for something- then everyone would be with her.”
The two men nodded, hearing George’s whistle which signalled that it was clear to come out. He knelt beside the stunned guard, trying to find anything on him that could help. A set of keys jingled against his belt.
“These might work for the rooms upstairs?” He suggested to the small group.
“Bill you go with him, I think me and Fred need to try something different.” Hermione stated, sending the other men off with a quick nod.
“Here,” She handed Fred the unconscious man’s wand. “Don’t want him coming round too quickly and hexing our heads off.” “Not really, if we can help it that is.” He shoved it inside his coat pocket, unbothered by whether it snapped in the process of another fight. “So what’s the plan?” The man asked.
Hermione watched the halls tentatively as she led him back to the first floor.
“If you needed somewhere to hide your daughter, then it wouldn’t be in sight, right?” The girl asked, as if it was a common situation to find yourself in.
“Well… no, so you think there’s a secret room?”
“I’m sure of it.”
The two of them stood under the doorway to the library and Fred wanted to groan, knowing that whenever a plan was involved Hermione would want to do her research before rushing into things.
-
The girl’s sobs were like a moaning ghost, echoing over the large ballroom which held only a small group of people. The man before her was older, she could tell, but that was about all she knew about him. His face was unrecognisable to the friends her parents would have over for big parties, which meant all of this was just a business deal for them.
A knife was placed against her back, the point slicing through the silk dress whenever she tried to move. So she didn’t dare. Her parents had silenced her, bored of hearing the begs for them to let her go.
“It is obvious that none of this needs to be dragged out.” Her father stated, smiling politely at the smartly dressed man who stood before her. “So we won’t dawdle.”
“Of course sir.”
Behind the charm, y/n screamed at the top of her lungs, hoping that the sheer volume of it could break through and alert someone. Not that anyone would come, they were out in the middle of nowhere with a household of people fulfilling her twisted parents’ wishes.
“Mr Nott-” Who the hell was this man? “Do you take my daughter, Miss y/l/n to be your lawful wedded wife?”
“I do.” He smirked, obviously quite pleased to have bagged himself a young, unwilling, bride. The girl was sobbing, her eyes blurred as her father turned to her.
“Do you Miss y/l/n, take this man to be your lawful wedded husband?”
She choked on her words, shaking her head as best she could with the grief running through her body. Whoever was holding the knife behind her stepped closer, sliding the blade slowly across her exposed back, just to remind her of what would happen if she disobeyed.
“You will agree.” Her mother’s voice sounded out, as she lifted her wand to remove the silencing charm with a deep breath. The girl nodded, racking her brain for any way that she could escape this hell.
Her throat untightened, the noise reaching them all as she sighed out in sudden relief. But it was short lived. Here laid her future, presented in the form of this cruel man who wanted a woman to listen to his every need and keep quiet. Never had she missed diagon alley more than in that moment, she begged to be back in the loft with the twins, in Fred’s arms, watching George guzzle down glass after glass of wine until he passed out. That was the life she chose. Not this.
Maybe the knife’s fate was sweeter than this. A sharp, short price to pay for running away. One that would be better than a lifetime of regret. The silver metal was cold against her skin, a constant reminder.
As Mr Nott’s eyes fixated on her, like he had just won her at a fair, the girl decided what was to be. The blade could finish this pain, once and for all.
“I will never marry this man.” The girl spat out, a sudden rush of happiness in herself that she had managed to finally speak out against her parents wishes. The confidence glowed all over her in that moment, the shine on her cheeks as she smiled in the confused face of her, no longer, husband to be.
There was a loud crash from the double doors.
-
“We don’t have time to read over these books Hermione, y/n could be in danger!” Fred reminded her, watching the girl scan over the surrounding shelves.
“I’m not reading Freddie, I’m looking for a way in.” “Huh?”
“All these books, there was something strange about them.” She explained, not stopping to look at the man who stood behind her.
“I thought I noticed something when we first checked in here, but we left too quickly for me to figure it out.”
“What? Hermione what’s in here?”
“These books, every single one of them are their most recent additions. In fact, they’re all brand new, not a single one looks as though it’s been picked up.”
“So, people don’t read books- you do know that isn’t a crime right?” Fred scoffed, but the girl just ignored him.
“Why would anyone fill up a library with new books?” “Because it’s a new library?”
“An old house like this has rooms that date back centuries, none of them look renovated, yet this one has obviously been done up on purpose.”
“Why in here then?” “Because in here, they are hiding something.” “Like a secret room!” “And you’ve got it, finally.”
Hermione found a crank between two of the bookcases, hidden by a large armchair.
“Here help me out.” Between them they managed to use the crank to push the bookshelves away, two double doors hidden perfectly behind it.
“Find anythin- woah!” Ginny said from the library’s doorway, having spotted them on her way past.
“Get the others, quick!” Fred ordered, sending the redheaded girl into a frenzy through the rest of the house.
He reached out for the handles, grunting when they didn’t budge under his weight.
“It’s been locked from the inside.” He huffed.
“Step back, let me try.” The girl beside him offered.
When the rest of the group arrived, both of them were throwing hexes at the unmoving doors. Both exhausted by the amount of shouting and fighting they’d already been through.
“I think we all need to do it, it shifted a little when I started helping.” Fred explained, stepping aside to let his brothers get a better stance. They all held their wands up high, pointed towards the locks.
With one almighty scene of hexes, the two doors flew off their hinges with a deafening crash. The clouds of smoke kept them in the dark for a few seconds, until Fred couldn’t hold himself back much longer and burst through it to get a better look at what was hidden inside.
“Freddie!” The girl screamed. She was on her knees, the white dress pooled around her as she hit the ground. Above her a man was holding her back, doing all he could to stop her from getting away to the safety of Fred.
The man was someone the twins knew, someone that the whole group was unfortunately familiar with. Someone whom Freddie wished he had killed during the war, when he had that chance.
Although Theodore Nott wrestled with her, he still managed to keep a smug look about him when he saw the Weasley’s and their friends stood amongst the ballroom’s debris.
“Let her go!” Fred boomed, ignoring the threatening stances he was faced with.
“I’m afraid there’s already been arrangements made, Weasley, seems you’ll have to find yourself another silly girlfriend.” He scoffed, yanking the whimpering girl to her feet.
Y/n thrashed with more furiosity than anyone had seen her possess in their time knowing her, spitting harsh words to the man holding her captive. Fred was joined by the rest of his group, who fought the other guards viciously, as well as the girl’s parents who weren’t ones to take the sidelines in any fight.
“I’d be more careful if I were you.” Theo hissed in her ear, low enough that no one could hear over the commotion. He held her there for a moment, so she could watch the guards hurl themselves upon Harry and Ginny. She screamed out for them to stop, but it was useless.
The twins made a run for her, everyone else too busy fighting to get the chance, but Theo was quicker. He whipped out his wand before they even had a chance to react, tossing two sharp hexes their way and knocking them to the ground.
Fred tried to get up but it was useless, only his head could move ever so slightly. He turned to her, seeing the fear on her face at the sight of his nearly lifeless body. The sound of her screams were the worst he’d heard, worse than the night of the break-in. Because she wasn’t bothered about her life this time. Now she was screaming out for Freddie, begging him to be okay.
His face moved, his eyes flickered at the last glimpse of her and the girl gasped with relief. There was a small smile on her face, before it was dragged away from the man. A last glimmer of hope, he saw it as, she was his last hope at happiness.
-
When the twins came around they were relieved to see that the guards, along with y/n’s parents, were knocked out and tied up against the far wall.
“Where is she!” Ginny was yelling at them, uncaring of the fact that they were just slipping back into consciousness. Molly was trying to stop her, but it was a futile attempt.
“Theo has her.” George groaned, getting to his feet with the help of Bill and Arthur. Hermione held out a hand for Fred, seeing the way his eyes glassed over at the thought of her.
“She has to be here somewhere.” He whispered, mostly to himself, but the girl beside him heard it still.
“Why do you say that?” She asked.
“If they were going to apparate, they would have done it the second we got here.” He explained, barely waiting a second before heading out of the ballroom in the direction that Nott took the girl away.
“You think he needs her here?” “I think the wards that have been set up are keeping her here, if Nott thinks her parents are still alive then he won’t know that they’ve been broken, right?” “Very clever.” She commended him. “But I think there could be something-” “I know. I saw the dress, I’m not that oblivious- but still, he needs her here to have her parent’s blessing if they’re to marry. He hasn’t got that, so he’ll be hiding.”
The man was pacing the halls quicker than he’d walked in his entire life, scanning each room as he passed it in case they were inside.
“Hermione!” Ron called from back down the hallway.
“What?” She barked, noticing how Fred didn’t even stop his search.
“We need to obliviate them, could buy us some time.” “Then do it!” “You’re the best at it, come on.” Ron raced back into the ballroom, hearing his fiance groan behind him.
“Hey, Fred?” “I’ll be fine, just go!” He called back, leaving her little choice as she went to obliviate the minds of their captives.
-
The girl had sat in silence ever since Mr Nott had thrown her into one of the guest bedroom’s, keeping his wand pointed at the door. He didn’t want to lock it. He found great joy in telling y/n how he would hex the first person to come through it, laughing over the thought of their lifeless face.
It was blatant to see how the man played around with lives like they were his toys. But all she could think about was how Freddie was laying on the ballroom floor, his eyes full of helpless tears as she was dragged away.
As much as she wanted him to be okay, she begged that he wouldn’t be the one to open that door and face whatever jinx her captor was going to throw.
“Why?” Her voice was dull, void of any hope or joy.
“Speak up, you’re mumbling.” He spat, barely glancing her way as she lay crumpled against the far side of the room, as far from him as she could get within those four walls.
“Why!” Now she was just angry.
She wanted to see her parents suffer, she wanted to see those awful creeps in pain… but most of all she wanted to see Mr Nott writhing in a pool of his own blood. Fred deserved to see that, she deserved to do it.
“Why what?” The man chuckled, amused by the way she scowled at the back of his head.
“Why bother fighting this hard? What have they promised you?”
“A pretty bride of course.” He laughed, his wand outstretched at the sound of some nearby noise down the hallway. His tone was gut wrenching, making the girl want to vomit on his newly polished dress shoes.
“Cut the shit.” She spat, her bones weak from the hours of being tied up and left to starve.
“Your mummy and daddy never told me they had a feisty one,” He turned, losing interest in the door, and approached her. She had nowhere to go, the balcony door was locked and all the furniture was too heavy to try and break the glass.
“Stop it…” She whispered, sick of fighting him off every few minutes, but his hands still reached up to her face. The man grabbed her jaw, rendering her gaze stuck on his.
“You’ve been promised to me… and that’s all I wanted- now be good and do what I say.” He laughed at the way she gulped beneath his harsh grip, digging deeper with each passing second. The pain was a happy sight to the sick man.
“All you want is to own me.” She almost laughed at this small revelation, a weak and airy one at that.
“Now she’s got it.” Theodore hissed, his hand unmoving from her now marked skin.
There was another noise, reminding the man that he was being followed. So he stood again, leaving her slumped in slight relief to watch the door as the footsteps grew slowly closer. They were hesitant, yet heavy. It was him, it had to be.
“Have you ever been in love?” The girl asked, desperately trying to distract him once again. It could buy some time for Freddie, if Mr Nott wasn’t waiting to throw his hex immediately.
The man’s back stiffened a little.
“Hasn’t everyone been in love once, little girl.” He chuckled, dismissing her question.
“But you haven’t?” She pushed.
There was no answer, he just remained with his wand pointed at the door. Except it shook slightly as he reminisced, unbeknownst to the girl.
“Was she pretty?” Y/n knew she was pushing her luck, but desperate times call for desperate measures.
“She... “ He breathed heavily, most likely contemplating why he was even entertaining her curiosity. “Well, it’s me- of course she had to be pretty. I would never settle for less.” His arrogance returned from the sidelines with one deep breath.
“What happened?” “It’s none of your business, now keep quiet.” He could hear whoever was in the hallway getting closer, and the girl’s voice was becoming more and more off putting.
“Mr Nott-” It was the first time she had addressed him all day. “I’m sorry for however you fell out of love, I can’t imagine it was pleasant in the slightest.” He made no reaction, so she kept going.
“Then again, I haven’t been in love before… not before Freddie.” She could see the way his chest heaved more than before as his eyes bored into the wooden doorframe. “So, I wouldn’t know what it is like to lose that love… but I suppose that is a threat as of today.”
Theodore tried to block her out, really he tried, knowing that any second that door before him would fly open and one of the Weasley clan would charge inside to claim his bride as their own.
But all he could think about was her. The one woman he had truly loved, after years of damning the feeling to death, was no longer his to be with. As his hand shook furiously before him, flashes of her perfect smile and devious ways washed through his mind.
She was married to another, by arrangement, his own offer cast aside when the whole ordeal became a business plan. Her father had never seen him suitable from the start, yet he had kept up the naive hope that the woman would see him as perfect enough to disobey her father’s requests.
He wasn’t, however, suitable for anyone it seemed.
“Who was she Mr Nott?” “Shut up!” The man snapped, still unable to concentrate as he had been doing so.
“It will help to talk,” “I do not need to talk to you bitch, now be quiet.”
The footsteps were gone. Or maybe he couldn’t hear them over the sound of his thudding heart. But it panicked him, made him scramble over to the girl in white who cowered at his advance.
He picked her up from the floor and whispered a spell on the french doors behind them, hearing the locks open. The girl whimpered once again in his arms, shivering as the wind rushed inside the room behind them, the threat of the balcony nearing.
“Please,” Y/n whispered, maybe to him, maybe to herself. But it made the man holding her jump slightly, looking down to see her staring at the door with hopeful intent.
For a split second she held such a look of determination that he was reminded of another, suddenly seeing the girl as someone he had loved in the past. It enthralled him how, even faced against a doomed future, she held onto the idea that Fred would save her. He knew the bastard Weasley would do all he could, too. Theodore knew she was loved, something he had never been.
“Pansy…” Mr Nott said airily, watching the girl and recognising her.
“What?”
“Pansy... Zabini.”
The door flew open, shocking them both. Fred was exhausted, his face pale and his body hunched over in pain as he all but fell into the room. There was no time for the girl’s captor to react when he heard the words expelliarmus fall from her lover’s lips.
Nott’s wand flew across the room, despite his attempts to catch it back.
“That was a very bad idea Weasley.” He laughed, remembering why he deserved this. Why he deserved the girl as his own, she was his to show off. To remind everyone that Theodore Nott wasn’t a lovesick fool for anyone.
The man produced a blade, bigger than the one previously pressed into the girl’s back. Now it prodded her side, making her torso tense up once again, yet her eyes softened at the sight of Freddie. Even if he did look like hell.
“Don’t hurt her, you bastard!” Fred spat, holding his hands in the air to show he meant no harm. Anything to protect her, he told himself, as long as nothing happens to y/n.
“Wand down.” Theo spat, chuckling at how easily he’d gained control of the situation.
“Fine, just let her go.”
“No can do, she’s been promised- my prize.” He cooed, feeling the way the girl beside him gulped when he got closer.
All the while, as the Slytherin bragged about his bride to be, Freddie’s eyes remained on the girl. They begged him to save her, to help her, to take her far away and stay with her forever. But she didn’t say a word, just watched him.
“The thing is, Weasley, that your little play thing here- she is just like all the other girls out there… so very disposable.” The knife in Nott’s hands ran up her body, grazing the dress with a light scratching sound. It grated in her mind as she held her breath.
“Please Theo, don’t.” Freddie begged, watching how the blade rested upon her neck. Every shaky breath she took knocked it about, her eyes widening every time.
“All this time she’s been crying and begging and whimpering, don’t you start too.” He sneered, holding the girl’s left arm tighter. “Weak little thing, don’t you agree?”
Fred tried to shake his head, the words not coming out even as he tried.
“Shame. I think she’s purely useless- worthless little y/n?” Theo turned to the girl, her scornful gaze somewhat a shock to him. Still, it gave him a chuckle. “Even her parents didn’t care about her… I see why.”
“Mr Nott?” She asked, her voice like an angel’s to Freddie.
“Yes darling.” Theodore teased, turning back to the redhead with a smug look.
Only to face the girl with shameful horror when she whispered “legilimens”.
He had no chance to fight it, no way to block her from seeing it all. The endless days spent with Pansy at Hogwarts, so in love with one another that it disgusted their friends to no end. She saw how they fought through the war together, side by side, only to be ushered away by their parents when it was clear they were to lose. The girl watched over his memories of the trials, his pleads of being under the imperius curse, his testimony to Pansy’s innocence. Only for the girl to announce her engagement to Blaise Zabini once they were pardoned and allowed to live freely. The girl felt the way his heart broke, over and over, time again. She could feel how little he valued himself, she could see the mask he wore.
“You bitch!”
The knife plunged deep into her side, a ricochet of shouts from Freddie as she stumbled away from Theodore. He ripped it out, the gash in the dress draping open to show off the bloody slit that was now in her skin.
It was a blur, as Fred grabbed his wand and advanced towards the man who held a look of regret over his face. But it wasn’t enough to save him.
“Stupefy”
He slumped onto the balcony railing, his eyes trained on her as she found her footing against the french doors. They were welling up now, covered in hazed tears. With all the pent up adrenaline left inside her she lunged for the man, grabbing his collar and holding his upper body over the edge, threatening to let him fall onto the cobblestones below.
“You remember. I know it all.” She whispered. “Find someone who loves you.” It was a stern plea. Y/n knew that without it, Theodore Nott would only descend into madness.
Fred came to her side when she fell, matching the way the stunned man’s body fell against the railings. The girl’s eyes closed every few seconds, her head misting over as the twin tried desperately to keep her awake.
“Please… y/n…. Wake up…. I need you awake…. I need you.” He begged, fading into nothing as she fell slowly forward into his arms.
Her lips parted as she tried to speak, slowly, but with her last drags of determination.
“Theodore? If you try this again…. With me… or anyone else…” Her breath got heavy as she struggled to push away the pain much longer, the searing sting piercing her side as if she’d been struck a second time. “Then… I’ll push you over.”
With that final warning her eyes closed for good and her body collapsed lifelessly against Fred who couldn’t bring himself to utter a single word as he scrambled around the room for his wand. It took another look at Theo, frozen in his fear to realise what the girl had seen inside his head must have meant something to her. Or else he would have been in a pool of his own blood, on the courtyard below.
“Y/n…” He finally managed. “I’m sorry, this is going to hurt.” Freddie closed his eyes, holding onto her for dear life and ignored the way he wanted to crumble into a string of sobs just at the sight of her. Then they disappeared, leaving Theodore to be found on the balcony…. Alone.
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livralph · 5 years ago
Text
New Years Eve
On New Year’s Eve Draco sat alone nursing a bottle of firewhisky which was almost half empty. His friends were in other rooms dancing around to The Weird Sisters. Ten minutes earlier he had been talking to Pansy by Harry’s bookshelf, fingers that weren’t holding the stem of his wine glass absent mindedly strolling over the spines of books. He’d muttered something to her about getting another drink before stumbling into the kitchen. Somewhere between grabbing a drink and taking the cap off he decided that the living room wasn’t exactly where he wanted to be, that he wanted a second away from the noise of the party before the countdown to the next year.
He wasn’t sure who’s bedroom it was that he’d ended up in, and, by the time he’d collapsed into the bed, he didn’t particularly care . Vaguely, he picked up on the familiar scent the duvet he was sat on held, though his mind was much to distracted to care about who’s bed he was lying on. Draco‘s eyes fell on the clock on the bedside table and allowed mild surprise to hit him when he realised it was a few minutes past twelve.
Of course, that shock was immediately replaced by a mix of regret and longing. Before he’d left the room he had been telling Pansy about his plan to kiss stupid Harry Potter at midnight. A small part of him wished he’d actually gone through with it. The rest of him — the parts of him that usually managed to be the epitome of logic — were screaming every reason it was better off this way. Draco would lose a friendship he’d spent every day since his seventh year, after the war, trying to maintain. Besides, even if Harry has kissed him back there was no guarantee that they would last, and he didn’t know if he could manage a breakup with Harry Potter. People would immediately assume he, the ex-deatheater, had done something to hurt their beloved boy who lived.
He’d had the image in his head every time he’d even thought of asking Harry out. The image of him being unable to leave his house in fear of being attacked, in fear of reporters from The Daily Prophet, in fear of wizards and witches throwing him even more dirty looks that they already did. The image of no longer having a friend like Harry and losing Hermione and Ginny and even Luna because he and Harry were no longer on speaking terms. The image of him losing the job at the ministry he’d worked to hard to get. The image of every possible bad outcome haunting him and telling him his life could turn to shit the second the relationship did.
He knew it was best that he hadn’t carried it out. Draco could continue pining until he found someone else to fall in love with. It could be years until that happened but at least he and Harry would still be friends. Just friends and nothing more. The thought made Draco feel ill— but then again that could very easily have actually been the fault of the immense amount of alcohol he’d had in the past four hours .
He took another swig of the Firewhikey and rested his head back against the headboard, looking at the ceiling. The room was practically pitch black as he’d never bothered to turn the lights on, but Draco’s eyes had adjusted since entering and now he could make out the the shapes of furniture and see the paint above him peeling slightly.
New Year’s Eve and no one was missing him. No one had looked for him. “Fucking happy new year.” He muttered, allowing his eyes to fall shut and pulling his legs to his chest defensively. Without much thought he dropped his head to his knees, allowing his bottle to hang loosely from his hand.
Draco had barely been sat like that for a minute when the door opened. His eyes immediately shot open and he looked to the door, where a dark outline stood, framed by the yellow light of the hall. It took until the man walked past the door frame, shutting it behind him for Draco to see it was Harry. The sudden light that had flooded the room threw him off but once the room was plunged back into darkness he saw who had disrupted him. Draco put his head back on his knees as he felt his hands begin to shake and eyes begin to fill.
“Hi.” Harry said, sitting beside Draco. He couldn’t see it happening but he felt the bad beside him dip. “Was looking for you.”
“You found me.” Draco muttered weakly, his voice shaking from the tears that were beginning to fall.
“You okay?” His bright eyes were burning holes into the side of the Draco’s head. If only Harry wouldn’t look at him. He’d be able to lie. To say he was fine and tell Harry not to worry.
But he couldn’t lie. Not when the guy he’d been in love with since he was eighteen was asking if he was okay with a voice that made it so obvious that he knew he wasn’t. He couldn’t say yes with a smile and send Harry spiralling by not telling the truth.
So Draco sat up. He put his head back on the headboard, shaking his head all the while. He let out a sound between a cough and a laugh as another tear rolled down his cheek. “No.” He muttered, bringing the Firewhiskey bottle to his mouth and taking a sip, he furrowed his brows at the burning sensation it left in its wake. He coughed a little, realising he’d taken to big of a sip and smiling bitterly. Fuck, he was going to feel like the embodiment of shit in the morning.
“How much have you had to drink?” Harry said, taking the bottle from Draco and looking to see the contense was still half full.
“Too fucking much.” Draco answered, dragging his hands through his hair. He didn’t even notice the way Harry raised his eyebrows at the swear. When he was drunk his filter generally only cut out slurs, just as he always did. “But that’s old news. You already know I drink when I’m trying to forget something. Kind of backfired this time because it’s all I can think about.” Draco went back to hanging his head down as to not see Harry and give his mind more fuel for his endless thoughts of a relationship between them destroying his life.
“Old news but still not good news, Draco, mate.” Harry sighed, taking a swig from the bottle, shuddering at the taste. He never got how people could drink it. “Good news would be that you’re happy.” He passed the bottle back over to Draco, who took it in one of his hands.
“Happiness is superficial, Potter. I’ve told you this countless times.” He groaned, lifting his head to for another sip of the drink.
Harry laughed with a shake of his head, disbelief evident on his face yet again. “And I’ve told you countless times that it isn’t. Temporary? Sure. Superficial? Just because it doesn’t last doesn’t mean it wasn’t there at all.” He took Draco’s bottle again.
“You can make everyone happy. You can give them everything they need to be happy, but still that can be destroyed by one thing. Things can be ripped from you in a moment with a fire, or a death. Merlin knows what else. I’m practically no different when it comes to being materialistic than you, but I know that things can be taken away as easily as they’re given because I’ve already had everything I loved taken from me over night and I’m never going to be ready to do that again.” Draco muttered slowly, resting his head back on the headboard and feeling another wave of tears spread through his body.
“Don’t say that.” Harry’s voice cracked as he spoke.
“Don’t say wha-“
“Don’t say that I don’t know how it feels to have things taken from me. Hi, I’m Harry Potter. The boy who’s parents were killed when he was a baby, who never had the chance for a proper childhood, who multiple people have been killed for, who’s got no proper family, who’s had fuck ton of shit to deal with for his entire life. Nice to meet you. Don’t you dare say that I don’t understand, Draco Malfoy. I know life’s a bitch and takes what it wants without a care but that doesn’t give you the right to wallow in self pity and think no one else has gone through similar thing to those you have.” Harry was breathing heavily in attempt to detain the tears getting ready to fall from his eyes.
Draco was looking at him with guilt soaring through him at a violent speed. He was the boy who lived and when Draco had first befriended him he’d expected Harry to wear his emotions on his sleeves. That was far from how Harry really was. If there were people around he wouldn’t cry, Ron and Hermione could barely think of any times they’d seen him cry and they’d been his best friends since they were in their first year. But, fuck, Harry was crying. Of course, he knew Harry cried. He’d seen Harry cry, but never like this.
He’d seen Harry cry after he broke up with Ginny. He felt awful and couldn’t deal with the fact that he’d led her on for so long before he ended it. Ginny’d cried and cried and cried and he’d just held her telling her he was sorry and things would be okay and he did love her just now how she wanted him to. He arrived at Draco’s at three in the morning, intoxicated and with tears running down his face. Draco had grumpily answered the door but lost this demeanour the second he’d seen the dishevelled state Harry was in. That night they sat in the living room for hours while the boy who lived poured out his guts to the only person he felt he could.
He’d seen Harry cry that October on the anniversary of his parents death, when he’d asked if Draco would go with him too. They’d stood in the graveyard with Hermione and Ron saying nothing. The three of them knew Harry was crying, even though he wasn’t making a sound. Hermione had placed roses on the grave while muttering something and wearing a sad smile, which only made Harry cry more. Silent tears continued rolling down his face until he chocked out a strangled sob into his hand. His friends all moved in to give him a hug at the same time so that he was wrapped in their comfort.
Now only a few months later he was watching Harry fall apart again and knowing it was his fault. Harry sat there sobbing with a bottle of firewhiskey in his hand and a drunk Draco sat next to him horrified with what he had done. This by far felt the worst to see.
“I’m sorry.” Draco muttered, when Harry’s tears slowed down and he was breathing more evenly again.
Harry shook his head tiredly. “Thanks, but you don’t have to be, you’re drunk. Can’t think straight right now.”
“Never can.” He joked, hands still over his eyes. Then he realised what he’d said and stopped breathing. He could hear Harry had done the same and was processing what Draco had said. “Shit.” Was the next thing he said when Harry breathed in again, obviously about to ask a question. “Shit. Did I just say that? Did I actually— oh fucking shit. Sorry, Harry. Sorry I shouldn’t have said that. I didn’t mean to say that— I didn’t—“
Draco ran his fingers through his hair now hyperventilating because fuck he didn’t think he’d actually be coming out to Harry tonight. Sure, he’d told Pansy (and himself, really) that h was going to kiss Harry at midnight but once midnight had passed the reality of what could happen had really hit him and, Merlin, was he glad he hadn’t followed it through. This wasn’t how he’d wanted to do it. He hadn’t wanted to come out to him while he was in love with the man, but now he had— and while he was drunk too so he could say more than he wanted to. Well, whatever happened next was sure to be ten times worse than what just had.
Harry continued to stare at his bedsheets ready to begin a sentence probably asking Draco someghing he was uncomfortable with asking— “it’s fine, Draco.”
“No, it’s not. I just made things weird and you’re probably really uncomfortable—“
“I’m gay.”Harry said, cutting his friend off before he could begin panicking more than he already was.
There was a short silence. “What?” Draco said, thinking that by this point he must have passed out from the drinks and his mind was constructing things that would never be true.
“I’m gay.” This time the words were heavy, as though Harry himself hadn’t felt the weight of them before and now he did. And now that he did it was pushing down on his chest and sending all air out of his lungs. Draco had just accidentally told him but it was probable he’d told someone else, maybe Pansy seeing as she was always hanging around him and telling him things she wouldn’t even whisper to Harry. With Harry it was different. He hadn’t even told Ginny she came out to him as bi and told him about Luna. No one fucking knew— well, actually, now Draco did and in honesty Harry didn’t feel all to brilliant about that at all. “I’ve never said that out loud before.”
Draco nodded slowly. “Well done.” He said quietly, then in attempt to put some conviction behind his words he put his hand on the duvet between them, offering it up for Harry to take. They’d held hands before. Watching a movie that was sad. While Ginny gave a speech at Hermione and Ron’s wedding. When Draco received the news that his mother had been released from st mungos after weeks of treatment. Despite each of these and every other time like them being either meaningless or full of comfort, this time felt like so much more. That was, if Harry decided to hold his hand.
He did.
“I didn’t even tell Ginny.” Harry muttered, thankful for Draco soothing his thumb over the back of his hand because it had instantly made him a hundred times calmer. “When I broke up with her I just told her things had changed— that after the war I didn’t feel in the same way I had but... it had been a year since I’d finished school, two since the war so it probably made her feel worse when I said it was that. Then when she told me about Luna and I just— I had the opportunity to tell her and I didn’t.”
“You weren’t ready.”
“It wasn’t fair.”
“Why do you have to be so kind?” Draco laughed to himself and looked over at the man beside him. “For once think about what’s good for you not for everyone around you.”
“Can’t.” Harry said in a choked voice. “Never will be able to because of who I am. If I stop helping people I’ll let everyone down.”
“You’ll never let me down. Even if you became the biggest dick to walk the planet I think I’d still—“ With that he cut himself off because he knew what he’d been about to say. Suddenly, he felt a lot more sober. “I’d still want to be your friend.” From beside him Harry looked over, eyeing Draco oddly. Fuck, he was screwed. That had been the final time he’d accidentally almost tell Harry something he didn’t want to know because he’d completely cut Draco out of his life.
“Friend.” Harry echoed, looking like the work left a bitter taste in his mouth. The hand in Draco’s stiffened a little causing him to stop stoking his thumb over the skin on the back of his hand. There was a silence that seemed to stretch years but probably lasted three minutes, before Harry took a deep breath, holding it for a second to determined which words to use for his next question. “Have you told... who else knows? That you’re... Y’know. Gay.”
Draco laughed weakly. “God, Okay. Mum knows, Pansy, Luna— she was the first person I told, Ginny, Hermione, Ron, Blaise, Dean and Seamus, Most of the Weasleys actually... yeah, I think that’s about it.”
“Everyone but me.”
Shit. The words made Draco wince. Of course telling Harry that would upset him. The majority of the people they were actually friends with knew but Draco hadn’t told Harry. He’d think he hated him. He’d think— well. There was no need to force himself down this rabbit hole again he’d already fallen in about five times since he’d entered the room. “Yeah.” The words came out in a sigh of defeat. If Draco wanted not to seem like a total wanker he’d have to tell him the truth. “Yeah, everyone but you.”
“Why?” There was no anger or hurt in Harry’s voice. It broke at the end which made him think he was anxious, perhaps hiding curiosity but no anger at Draco for not telling him. Anger would be easier to deal with. Having Harry scream at him would make this conversation so much easier because then he could convert every feeling he had into rage. He’d regret it tomorrow, or maybe even immediately after, but it would still feel easier in the moment.
“You’ll hate me.”
“I never could”
“You did.” Draco pointed out. The hand in his stiffened again for a moment but Harry pushed away whatever made him tense and squeezed Draco’s hand tightly for a second.
“I did. Never could again. I know you too well. Know how kind you are. You’re too good to hate.”
“Fine.” He swallowed, trying to ignore the beautiful green eyes searching the side of his face for some sort of clue, making it impossible to even think about saying what he was going to. Maybe if he— nope, looking over hadn’t helped at all now their faces were inches apart. Draco bit his lip, tearing his eyes away from Harry’s. “I like you.” The words came out and he winced, not quite what he’d meant to say.
The air thickened, weighing down on both of them so that it seemed like breathing was almost an impossible feat. Almost impossible, as Harry occasionally took in a deep breath as if he was about to say something, then seemed to back out of it. When he eventually decided on what to say it was only, “should we talk about this now or when you’ll definitely remember it?”
“Will I want to remember it?”
“I want you to.” Harry muttered, bringing his other hand to where his and Draco’s were intertwined so he could hold him with both hands.
“The past few minutes have been rather sobering. Forgive me for not wanting to endure this another time when we’re already so far into it right now.” Draco’s said, voice quiet and wavering despite his obvious attempt to appear indifferent. If there was one thing Harry never failed to notice it was when Draco tried to lie to him.
Without much thought Harry found himself nodding his head anyway. The darkness of his bedroom had a strange quality, some wierd ability to make consequences seem utterly nonexistent. “How long for?”
In the dark, Harry just managed to see Draco bite his lip, he drew his bottom lip between his teeth and pressed down hard, probably hard enough to draw blood. Harry refrained from lifting one of his hands to Draco’s face to smooth over his lips gently in attempt to calm him.
“I don’t know. Since school. After the war. A while after we became friends. That two week break in April that you stayed at the castle so I wouldn’t be alone. I only really stopped being in denial after you ended it with Ginny. I thought— I don’t know— maybe I thought I had a chance. Still took another five years for you to find out.” Draco’s eyes had fallen shut, and the second he finished speaking his lip was back between his teeth. It was impossible to tell if this was from nerves or because he didn’t want to say too much.
“Seven years.” The words were out of his mouth before he’d even realised. He hadn’t really meant to speak, thought perhaps he could just pretend to have passed out but what a dick move that would have been. “You must have been with other people, though? Sorry that wasn’t the best thing to ask. It’s fine if you haven’t.” He cut himself off before he dug himself into a hole. It would be easier to just allow Draco to answer.
“I have. Not for a few years mind, Potter.” Harry smiled at the nickname despite the subject it was attached to. Even though once it would be followed by an insult or jibing remark, now it was practically a term of endearment. It left him glowing. “I stopped trying when Pansy pointed out that every guy I become remotely interested in had an uncanny likeness to you. Assumed I’d just... I don’t know what I thought would happen. Whatever it was, it hasn’t.”
Harry felt a dull ache within him, spreading from his chest through his whole being. He had to say something, had to tell him, but, Merlin, the idea of saying it out loud.... he could feel his heart in his throat at the mere thought of it. Still..... if only he could just say something. “I’m in love too.”
A small wimper escaped Draco that he tried to hide but even the shaking breath it became made the pain Draco was in violently obvious.
“Tried to get over the guy in the same way you have. Muggle bars and clubs of course, not well known, and I usually find away to not look like Harry Potter anyway. Charm my hair a different colour, transfigure my glasses frame, plait my hair rather than have the messy bun I usually do. Now I think about it, all the guys tend to have the same blonde hair grey or blue eyes. Brilliant dress sense. Wine rather than a beer. Remind me of the guy I’m in love with.” Harry felt Draco’s eyes bore into the side of his head when he realised what was being said. When Harry’s eyes finally stopped swimming he looked up at Draco, the way his eyes were wide and shining with tears that were yet to fall, though hundreds clearly already had in the past however long he’d been in this room.
Draco’s mouth was threatening to break into a grin, but it didn’t. Instead he shook his head and bowed it, laughing quietly in disbelief. When he looked back up a smile had made its way onto his face, obviously against his better judgement from the way he was biting the inside of his cheek. “I despise you, Potter.” He breathed, noticing how close they were, faces only a few inches apart. Harry was still cradling Draco’s hand in both of his and a mischievous smile had filled his face, apparent from his chin to his cheeks to his eyes to his hairline.
“Y’know, I have reason to believe otherwise.” Somehow he brought them closer together without even moving. Draco blinked and the inches between them became around a centimetre and a half.
Next time the blonde spoke he sounded breathless and his eyes were glued to Harry’s lips. “And what are those?” His voice was barely audible over the ruckus still going on outside the sanctuary of Harry’s bedroom.
“Well.” Harry settles back a bit, smiling as Draco’s brow creased at the sudden distance, trying to refrain from following him away. Subtly, Harry managed to move his fingers to rest over the pulse point on Draco’s wrist. “I’m assuming your heart doesn’t usually beat this fast.”
Draco rolled his eyes, muttering about stupid muggle theories, looking away from Harry to the line of light below the door frame, seeing the shadow of someone linger outside the door for a moment before moving on. Hopefully it would be Pansy, not one of Harry’s Gryffindor friends who weren’t so sure about him no matter what level of vulnerability he’d shown. Hermione was fine but he thought perhaps Ron would kick off, just as Seamus most definitely would. The last time Seamus had walked in a pair of curtains had burnt down. Draco quickly glanced at the curtains drawn shut at Harry’s window. They looked to be rather expensive.
“There’s also that,” Harry began, leaving his sentence unfinished as, in one smooth motion, he managed to kick Draco’s legs to be flatter on the bed and throw one of his legs over both of Draco’s so he was sat on his lap, facing him. Draco felt his face heat up and he looked forward at Harry for a split second before dropping his head to rest in the crook of Harry’s neck. “I knew it. You went bright red.” Harry rested his arms over Draco’s shoulders, hands meeting to play with the hair that fell to the top of his spine.
“How can you even see? It’s dark.” Draco groaned.
“I can’t see I was guessing. You just told me I was right.”
Draco groaned at this, wrapping his arms around Harry’s waist and pulling him closer to him. “You’re horrible.”
“You love me.”
“Doesn’t mean you aren’t horrible.”
“Hey. Look at me a sec.” Harry said suddenly, changing the subject and continueing to lightly sooth his fingers over the back of Draco’s neck. Draco looked up at him, lip drawn between his teeth lightly, worry coated in every part of his face, the crease between his eyebrows, his eyes, his everything. Harry brought his hands to cup Draco’s face, gently brushing his thumb over Draco’s bottom lip, smiling at the little gasp and way his mouth opened. Oh Merlin, how Harry wanted to kiss him. Then it struck him that now he probably could. His hands moved to back hold Draco’s hair again and Harry pressed their foreheads together.
“Can I kiss you?” Harry breathed the words against Draco’s lips, feeling almost as intimate as the next second when their lips touched. They both remained their, neither being quite sure that what was happening was real, then they realised it was, and fell into it. Harry’s tongue touched Draco’s bottom lip and he opened his mouth, deepening it, slowly becoming more immersed.
Draco’s hands held the back of Harry’s shirt tightly, fingers straining against the fabric as one of Harry’s hands grabbed Draco’s tie. He wrapped it around his hand, pulling the other man impossibly closer to him, hearing a shocked noise in the back of Draco’s throat and feeling it in his own mouth. Draco moved his wand hand from Harry’s back, trailing it up his chest and over his shoulder, taking purchase in Harry’s long hair that tonight had been tied half up, half down. The sigh Harry let out at this completely interrupted them, causing them to both lean back a little to catch their breath. That didn’t stop each exhale from blowing over the others lips. The hand Draco had in Harry’s hand continued to brush through it while they just breathed the same air, relishing in the closeness.
The moment was ended and sent thousands of miles in another direction when the bedroom door flew open, Harry rolled away from Draco the second he headed the door handle move and just managed to look microscopically inconspicuous when Pansy flicked the light on, looking at them blankly, not sober enough to realise she’d just caught them doing something.
“I’ve been looking for you guys for an hour.” Her words were slurred and she had a face that mimicked Mrs Weasleys, though the champagne glass in her hand that was dangerously full ruined the affect. “It’s New Year’s Eve. Come and join the rest of us in celebrating another year of being alive, boys.” She left before she’d even properly seen the way the two men were out of breath and Draco’s mussed up hair. Draco brought his hands behind his head to pull some of his just blonde hair into a ponytail in attempt to look tidy and turned to Harry. The latter layed back on his pillows, groaning at Pansy’s timing and at knowing failing to go to where everyone else was would result in her coming back for them.
Harry’s position on the bed, one arm thrown over his face meant he didn’t see Draco leaning over him until he felt legs settle either side of his hips and opened his eyes widely. “Hey.” Draco muttered, lips brushing against Harry’s as he spoke. “Do you think we can just stay here or will she come back in five minutes if we don’t show up?”
Harry pressed his lips to Draco’s, looping his fingers through his belt loops gently, but not so gently that Draco could move easily. “No offence, Draco.” Harry’s whispered, before opening his eyes and managing to roll them over. “But you don’t know your best friend at all. You think we could get five minutes?” Harry rested their foreheads together. “We barely have three.”
The next second Harry was on his feet, grabbing Draco by the hand and pulling him down the hall to the kitchen. They stood behind the counter, from which they could see into the adjoined living room. There, Ron stood talking to Hermione, Pansy in the corner with Blaise, muttering and smiling with wet eyes, oblivious to the box of tissues hanging loosely from her friends hand even as he grabbed a tissue and passed it to her. The only people in the half of the room that was the kitchen besides them were Dean and Seamus, who were already rather preoccupied... Harry rolled his eyes at them, glancing at Draco for a second only to make eye contact. He smiled briefly before, turning back to the rest of the party. In the few seconds they hadn’t been looking, Blaise had pulled Pansy into a tight hug, stroking her hair and shaking his head in annoyance as she sobbed loudly into his shoulder. She never failed to get herself so drunk she couldn’t reason with her emotions.
Harry looked between him and Draco to where their hands were almost brushing. Gently, almost subconsciously, he knocked them together. When Draco looked at him, he only shrugged. Really, he hadn’t known what he’d wanted. They were in a room full of their friends... if they were to kiss or even just dare to stand an inch closer together everyone would know. Harry’s eyes had dropped to the marble counter, he was blissfully unaware of the way Draco was surveying him carefully. After a moments thought, he brushed their hands together, more confidently than Harry had, then he intertwined their fingers, the kitchen counter obscuring the view.
No one could see, but it was there. Harry squeezed Draco’s hand in thanks, a shy smile invading his face as Draco returned it. Pansy was still crying in the corner, Ginny was draped over Luna who was talking to Charlie animatedly about something he seemed very curious about. George was in the corner with the old Gryffindor quidditch team and Hermione and Ron stood in the corner, leaning against each other watching the world go by. They both had secretive smiles on their faces that Harry guessed was probably mirrored in his own. Hermione was twirling her wedding and engagement rings around her finger, smiling sloftly as Ron’s hand that had previously been resting on her side moved to brush over her lower stomach, muttering something to her which made her smile brighter than the sun, then turn to give him a brief kiss. Then she turned back to watch their friends and family talk amongst each other.
Harry stepped closer to Draco, letting go of his hand and leaning into his side. To adapt to the new position Draco moved his arm to rest uncertainly over Harry’s shoulder. Harry grabbed his hand, resting their hands on his shoulder and looking up at him tiredly. “Always a Gryffindor.” Draco teased, turning his head and pressing a brief kiss against his temple. Harry hummed in agreement, turning to the side and looking up so their lips were almost touching. The smile already playing Draco’s lips grew as he ducked his head a little to press their lips together gently.
Across the room Hermione and Ron smiled at the two, exchanging the look they always did when something bound to happen finally did.
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professordrarry · 6 years ago
Note
Prompt: Draco is creating a potions, but accidentally makes a potion that allows him to talk in parsel-tongue for a week and he over hears Harry talking to a snake
WoW is this ever plotless and sappy. Shrugs, I guess? I only sort of followed your prompt, too. Hope you don’t mind. 
There had been a conversation about this when they had remodelled the house; a whole discussion about how if Draco was going to have a potions lab in the extension, then he had to promise not to end up at the hospital every time he used it. Harry had wisely stayed sceptical that he could pull it off.
And Draco hated it more than anything when Harry Potter was right.
Now, sitting in a daze on the floor, surrounded by a blue-grey cloud and covered in a sticky navy goo, he had to admit that it was possible Harry had been right and it made Draco want to scream in frustration. It didn’t matter that they had been married for five years and that Harry definitely knew Draco better than anyone else did. It was still infuriating.
He dragged himself up and grabbed his notebook of the jot notes he’d been taking. Looking around at the ruined floor and table, he started trying to assess how much danger he was in.
“Why can’t you just follow a potion book, there’s no need for you to fuck around, every time I go away, do you wait for me to be out of town to blow yourself up,” he muttered aloud. “Wanker. Thinks he’s in charge of me. Thinks potions just pop up out of nowhere as if any famous Potions master used a book.”
“He just worries about you,” a small voice said quietly to his right.
Draco froze. There was definitely no one here. Harry was away at the cottage with Ron and Hermione, Scorpius was at school. Harry’s kids were, presumably, there also. Not to mention that this voice was tiny and wholly unfamiliar.
“Um,” he said stupidly. “Who’s there?” He held his wand tightly from where he’d already drawn it out of his sticky sleeve. The voice choked a little when it replied.
“Um,” it echoed. “You can hear me?”
“Yes?” Draco said, growing increasingly more puzzled. “You are speaking after all.”
“I always speak,” the voice returned. “You never hear me. Harry says we don’t speak the same language, but I’ve always sort of suspected you just choose not to hear me.”
The voice was coming from his left and was growing steadily louder as it became disgruntled. He looked down at the bench. There was no one there; there was a pot of herbs, the remnants of his cauldron, a jar of fly wings with Abra coiled calmly on top.
Abra, the tiny silver-grey corn snake that he’d bought Harry for his birthday two years ago; Abra, who mostly hung out in his lab because Harry was never there and she was a glutton for company; Abra, who Draco had been speaking to just moments ago, unconsciously using her as a sounding board for all his ramblings during the many lonely solo-brewing hours.
Abra, whose head was lifted from her coil, tilted and staring in awe at Draco.
“A-abra?” he whispered, convinced he was going mad. She nodded her flat, arrow-shaped skull at him.
Draco promptly passed out.
When he woke up, it was to find Abra on his chest, staring down at him with comprehending eyes.
“That was a tad dramatic,” she said. He reached down and touched one finger to her head. She leaned into it, just as she always did. “Checking that it’s me?” she teased. “You talk to me all the time. I can prove it. You think Harry is very beautiful and stunningly silly sometimes. I agree. You also think your potions are going to be your biggest failure. On that, I do not. Also, you think my name is Abra, which is fine I suppose since Abracadabra is quite a clever name for a wizard’s snake.”
“You’re not called Abra?” he murmured, pretty much still in shock. “I’m-I’m sorry. Harry should have told me.”
She stared at him and bobbed her head; Draco could have sworn that she had just shrugged at him.
“It’s fine. I like it.”
“What is your name though?”
“Chloe.”
“Chloe?”
“Chloe,” she repeated. “You are silver-haired charming one in this language. I won’t call you that if you won’t call me Chloe.”
“This language?” Draco asked, stuttering still but managing to sit up.
“Snake. You are speaking it. Did you not know? That would explain much of your afternoon, I suppose. Must be the potion.” She shrugged again. “You should go to the hospital.”
“I’m fine.”
“Fine, except that you can speak to me,” she countered. He couldn’t argue much with that. Still, he refused to go to the hospital and admit he could talk to snakes.
Abra, it turned out, was absolutely fantastic company. He cleaned up the lab, banished the disaster so Harry would never know, and set about making dinner for himself. By the time he sat down to eat, with Abra fast asleep around his neck, he knew everything about her. He knew that she and Harry had already ad the conversations they’d had, and he was annoyed that he did not know the secrets about their beloved pet. He could have been so much kinder to the gentle snake, offered her only her favourite treats and such. Draco pettily decided that it was likely because if only he knew her secrets, Harry could remain her favourite even though he didn’t spend as much time with her. Deep down, he knew that wasn’t true; Harry’s Gryffindor soul did not contain such organised spite. Still, Draco was annoyed when he went to bed.
“Goodnight, my love,” he said to Abra, who rested on Harry’s empty pillow.
“Goodnight, sweet friend,” she replied.
“Sweet friend?” he asked.
“I always say that when you call me ‘my love’,” she said, moving closer to him and dropping her tail beside his ear. “I admit, it is strange having you know that. Harry does not like when you say ‘my love’ to me.”
Draco laughed. “That’s because Harry is a very jealous man.”
“Truer words never spoken,” she said dozily.
He took a cue from her and drifted off to sleep.
“Oof.”
The clumsy entry of a clearly drunk Harry woke Draco from a strange, instantly-forgotten dream. He did not move. If he ignored Harry’s presence, he’d soon be back to sleep. If he spoke to his husband, it could be many hours of attempting to understand confusing tangential stories. Those could wait till morning.
“Abra,” Harry whispered, pulling the covers down. “What are you doing here? You scared me.”
“Protecting silver-haired charming one,” she replied. The name made Draco want to chuckle, but he continued to feign sleep. “What are you doing here? You are meant to be at red-graceful angry’s house for three more suns.”
“I missed this one,” Harry replied soppily. “Let’s not tell him, but I worry he gets lonely.”
“Not so much now,” she responded.
Harry brushed passed the reply and settled into bed. Draco felt Abra’s tail disentangle with his hair; Harry must have lifted her to let her curl around his hand and wrist. “I suppose he’s been experimenting again.”
“Indeed. Most effectively.”
“Oh really?” Harry chuckled and Draco bristled internally. “What did he make, then?”
“A mess,” she replied. Harry sighed.
Draco snorted softly. He’d learned how precise one needed to be with snakes just this afternoon.
“Did he make a potion that does something interesting?” he rephrased. She nodded. “And what does it do?”
“It makes him far more interesting,” she said slowly.
“What?” Harry said, alarmed enough to be sitting up. Draco sighed, not caring now if he was heard. Any second now, Harry would shake him awake. “He drank his own potion!?”
“Indeed. And his accent is far lovelier than yours,” she taunted.
Sure enough, Harry jolted Draco awake a moment later; Draco opened his eyes immediately, too tired to torture Harry for sport and delay his panic.
“Hospital, now.”
“Relax, darling,” Draco said soothingly. “I’m fine. You should have told me our snake was such a lovely thing.”
“You already knew that,” Harry declared. “And I hardly think that drinking an experimental potion that has you speaking parseltongue is fine, Draco Abraxas. Up. Now.”
“You’re drunk,” Draco reasoned. “You can’t go to work drunk.”
“I’m not going to work,” Harry said, fully fuming now. “I’m taking my idiot husband to the emergency ward.”
“Fine,” Draco conceded. “But I’m going to hold it over your head that you came home early because you missed me.”
Harry went bright red; it was easy to embarrass the man, even after all this time. They flooed to the open corridor of the hospital, and Draco sat down heavily on an exam table a short while later while the nurse conducted her tests.
“What was the potion supposed to do?” she asked.
“It wasn’t experimental,” Draco replied haughtily. “I just screwed up some liquid luck.”
He looked down to Harry, who was sitting in the chair to the left of the bed, cradling Abra against his chest and murmuring soothing sounds to her. She didn’t like the bright lights any more than Draco did.
“Actually, you know what?” he amended. “I didn’t screw anything up. Not this time.”
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meganlpie · 5 years ago
Text
WIP/Current Requests List
(This can be found on my blog page as well, where I will update it as I get through the requests)
WIPS (Fics I am currently working on to post): These are subject to change based on my moods and inspiration.
Unbreak My Heart: Anonymous asked: So glad requests are open, you’re my favorite blog. Could you do a Castiel and Reader song fic with the sing Unbreak my Heart by either Wheezer or Toni Braxton please? Again love love love your blog (I’ll be honest, this one is taking forever because I really don’t like the song XD)
Tears of the Widow: Another Wattpad request. for avengers, natasha and y/n has been together for a few years, when y/n gets called out for a week mission, and halfway through, something goes wrong and they had to abort the mission and when they get back, Y/n is bloodied and unconscious and natasha freaks and literally blames tony and fury and after a week she finally wakes up and everyone shocked when they see nat cry and when nat cries, so does Y/n and Y/n tells her sorry for making her worry and Y/n pulls natty in the bed and they fall asleep together.
Unique: I have an imagine request. It’s with dwalin because he’s underrated. He asks the reader to marry him in a unique way. Like maybe doing it at a farm sanctuary.
Muggle Healer: Anonymous asked: Oooooo….how about some Snape? Instead of dying, he lives and goes into hiding and ends up in a Muggle hospital where the reader works as a nurse. They get close and he ends up telling her everything. Maybe some romance?
Current Requests (Unstarted fics that are on the list):
Abducted: A Wattpad request. Hey meg ! So i finally came up with a plot , this takes place at the very start of age of ultron and is captain america x reader. So the reader is tony starks younger sister and while shopping she gets abducted by hydra and experimented on . She is isolated and experimented on , eventually she becomes enhanced , her powers are controlling all 4 elements , like an avatar. So when the avengers come to rescue her and retrieve the teseract steve confesses that he can‘t live without her and eventually kissing but tony disturbing. Back in the avengers tower steve never leavs her side and he stays with her cuddling the whole night and talking , the next day they train together and steve really helps her control her new powers and just a lot of steve fluff :)
Mission Memories: Another Wattpad request. I’ve had an idea for a Steve x fem!reader (also inspired by these two lol) only they’re getting ready for a mission (kind of like when Steve and Bucky are talking in Civil War) and he’s reminiscing. I just love Steve so much lol
Stowaway: Another Wattpad request. Howdy! I wish to inquire regarding a request of the Guardians of the Galaxy variety. A Drax x reader where the gang imprisons a stowaway but she convinces Drax to let her out through lies and deceit. Drax is unaware of her dishonesty and announces to the guardians right afterward whilst their mid conversation, “I HAVE FREED THE PRISONER!!” The guardians get her back and Drax distrusts her for realsies this time. Mostly platonic, i suppose…thanks luv! Your writing is a big inspiration of mine
It’ll Get Better: Anonymous asked: I’d love a Steve Rogers x reader with a reader who has depression. Something like a comfort fic ^^ Thanks!
Animal Control: Rocket Raccoon gets picked up by animal control. Requested by @tallguy1130 (that’s my hubby, y'all!)
A Interesting Child: Baby Groot goes to daycare.
Saving Thorin: Another Wattpad request. Could you make a Thorinxhuman female reader. And like, she finds herself in Middle Earth and is really shy and sweet but like saves Thorin??? Thank you!
Incompatible: Thranduil x Human! Reader imagine. Somehow he opens his heart to love a human and it was a good relationship. Until they have a fight about something (maybe he says something about human that hurt reader’s feeling?) and he makes her cry. For him it isn’t a big deal but for her the fight was too much for her to handle. And she starts to think that her relationship with Thranduil was a mistake because she comes from a different race and she is too young for him that she can’t do anything right. The elves also tell Thranduil that she’s not the one for him because she’s incapable to be his queen. She overheard the conversation between Thranduil and the elves and she has decided to leave. But when she confronts her beloved Thranduil, he is flabbergasted to know that she is leaving. You can end it in your own way (maybe she really leaves or stays? I don’t know). I just want an angstyyy imagine because I love crying XD
Cooking: Hi can I request a dwalin x reader please where dwalin falls in love with the readers cooking and gets super shy around her and finally manages to confess with the help from thorin and the company please
Not Human: Hello, love! Please could you write a Lindir x Reader in which the reader is a Peredhil (half human half elf) travelling with the company and she meets Lindir when they arrive at Rivendell? Thank you ❤️❤️Maybe Lindir thinks she’s only human at first but finds out about her being a peredhil when he sees her ears or something?
Support: Anonymous asked: Hi meg! Would write a Thranduil x reader where the reader shows him support (bc of things like doing what he thinks is best for his kingdom/people) A lot of fluff💫
A Picnic with Scorpius: Could u do a Scorpius x reader? ( next generation ) During their 4 or 5 year at Hogwarts? :3  maybe they’re having a picnic by the black lake ?
Breakfast Interrupted: So the harry potter one would be a draco x reader , being a couple & staying at dracos mansion chilling and talking all night (basically just seeing his good and cute side ) the next morning he brings the reader breakfast in bed , but then getting interrupted because the whole „thing“ in deathly hollows happens where harry , hermione and ron get dragged to dracos house and draco has to identify harry but because he doesn‘t want the reader to see this bad dark side of him , he chooses to lie and not tell them that they caught harry
Kids: Would it be possible if I made another request for a marcus flint x reader where they fight in the war for the good side then after the war they get married and have kids who are best friends with oliver Woods kids if that’s OK with youOh and marcus and Oliver hate there kids friendshipand try to break it up then reader gets involved and is angry at them both and threats marcus to sleeping on the sofa
The 2nd Task: Hey girl! I’m in love with your imagines honestly and was wondering if you could write an imagine about a fem Hufflepuff reader who is best friends with Cedric and you’ve had a crush on him for a while but never said anything because you think he is in love with Cho. When it comes time for the second task, you are chosen as the person who will be in the Black Lake for him. (You’re a little annoyed and after Cedric wins the task, you’re forced to take pictures for the prophet.) he tries talking to you afterward but you storm off down the dock, argue, and you finally have enough and admit to loving him. (He stares dumbfounded and admits he loves you too and there’s a wee bit of fluff?) I’m trash at requests but thank you much ❤️ Not sure if this was too little or too much
Suitcase:I saw you started doing Harry Potter one shots and had to get in on that. You’re kind of my favorite one shot artist. I’m so glad you’re back. If its ok, I wanted to request a thing with Newt Scamander where maybe the reader has pretty severe anxiety around other people,but is really good with the animals so maybe, after a panic attack he takes reader into his suitcase and shows her around like the Hufflepuff he is. And all the animals love her. She calms down and laughs, seems reallt happy. Maybe a time skip where they’ve been traveling together a while and realize they love each other?
The Hufflepuff: Requested by @lust-for-pan:  heyy! love your blog💛 can i pls request something with draco? can reader be a hufflepuff pls? reader is quiet/shy and has a bit of a crush on draco. she accidentally bumps into him and rushes to apologize, he’s about to get mad but stops when she sees her? like he’s taken back by how pretty she is maybe? and tells her it’s fine or something? lol srry i’m in that cliche mood rn. do what you want with the request💛💛💛 thank you
Why is He With Her?: Anonymous asked: Okay, I need some Ron from you please. Instead of Hermione, it’s the reader who gets upset at seeing Ron with Lavender and Ron doesn’t get why she’s so upset until Hermione points it out. Then, when Ron is in the hospital wing, Hermione shoos Lavender away so the reader can have some time alone with him
I Knew All Along: Anonymous asked: Can we get some reader saving Snape because she’s known all along that he was a double agent? And maybe some closure between Snape and Harry?
Yule Ball: Anonymous asked: Hi Meg, can I get a Snape and teacher reader where the reader is a teacher for whatever class you want and she looks a little bit like Lily Evans and he asks her out to the Yule Ball please? (This will be changed a little bit)
Winning Her Heart: Anonymous asked: THANK you for opening requests! Can I ask for young Sirius trying to win heart of Slytherin girl?
Pranking Lockhart: Anonymous asked: Would you write something where the Twins prank Lockhart? Like putting hair dye in his shampoo or something in his tooth paste that turn his teeth into different colours? (Perfect if both of them CHANGE colours so they always clash with his clothes.) As some kind of ‘welcoming’ him to Hogwarts? Sorry if this is not enough to work with.
I’ll Be Your Friend: Anonymous asked: Ooooh Harry Potter! Okay, can I request a Fred Weasley x fem!reader? The reader is a Hufflepuff and muggleborn and really quiet and Pansy picks on her, but Fred cheers her up by getting her to help with a prank?
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zak-bagans-gac-imagines · 6 years ago
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Return To Hogwarts - Chapter One
Lizzie had been doing paranormal investigations with the Ghost Adventures crew for sixth months. Recently she decided to leave the Men of Letters Bunker, and her two friends, Sam and Dean, and travel with Zak Bagans and the crew instead. 
Lizzie was also in a committed yet private relationship with Zak. The only ones who knew they were together were Aaron, Billy, and Jay, their fellow investigators, and Lizzie had recently moved in with Zak. 
One day, Lizzie was sitting on the couch, reading a book, Zak’s border collie Gracie was lying next to her, as Lizzie held her book in one hand and was scratching Gracie’s ear with the other. A moment later Zak came in, carrying an armful of mail. 
“Hey, babe,” said Lizzie, as Zak walked over and kissed her. “Hey, sweetie,” he said, rifling through the mail.
A moment later, Zak handed Lizzie an envelope addressed in green ink, and sealed with purple wax. “Um, here’s something for you, it looks like it’s from Hogwarts,” 
Lizzie’s face darkened. Ever since she was raped at the tender age of sixteen, the school had done nothing to help her, and spend an ungodly amount of time protecting her attacker rather than her. 
Zak knew that his girlfriend had been assaulted, but he only knew a very minute amount of information, short of re-traumatizing his new girlfriend.
“Burn it,” said Lizzie bitterly. “It’s marked ‘urgent’” said Zak. 
Lizzie sighed as she stopped scratching Gracie’s ear and took the envelope. Gracie whined as she lifted her head as Lizzie tore the envelope and unfolded the parchment. 
Dear Miss Blaszczak
I wasn’t certain who to inform, but after hearing that you were traveling with the Ghost Adventures Crew and remembering your history with them, I knew I had to send you this. 
As I am sure you are aware, during the Battle of Hogwarts that eventually led to the fall of Lord Voldemort, there were tragically a large number of casualties. Not long after the renovation of the castle was completed, many students in all four Houses, and ages have reported paranormal activity around the castle. Everything from phantom footsteps to voices, to apparitions, people getting touched - you name it. 
In addition to the renovation itself, we have made changes to accommodate Muggle technology. You will be able to use your cameras and digital devices without any issues. We have also recently added Wifi. 
We also have created our own social network for students. I will give you the IP address should you need it for your investigation
Many students are terrified while others are intrigued. It would be very appreciated if you and the Crew could return to Hogwarts for a second investigation, and perhaps do a guest lecture. 
Please return this letter at your earliest convenience 
Yours Sincerely, 
Professor Minerva McGonagall
Headmistress
Lizzie stared at the letter for a very long moment. “Everything okay?” Asked Zak. Lizzie handed Zak the letter. “Oh,” he said, reading it. “She - wants me to return to Hogwarts,” said Lizzie. “And you don’t want to?” Asked Zak
“I don’t know,” said Lizzie. “This is about what Cormac did isn’t it?” Asked Zak. Lizzie said nothing, but nodded. 
Zak reached over and gently held Lizzie’s hand in his own and kissed it tenderly. “I know you’ve been through a lot, and I understand your resentment towards the school, but wouldn’t it be possible for you to put your emotions aside?” Lizzie said nothing. 
The prospect of putting the trauma of being raped by a fellow student, and the school failing to protect her, behind her, was a very daunting and emotionally difficult thing for Zak to ask of her. 
“Think of it like this,” said Zak. “Maybe Professor McGonagall is feeling guilty over not protecting you, and by asking you to come back, she’s asking for you to forgive her?” “I - I’d never thought of it like that,” said Lizzie. “Mm-hmm,” said Zak. 
There was a very long moment of silence between the two paranormal investigators, only the sound of Gracie whining every now and then could be heard. After what seemed like forever, Lizzie finally sighed heavily, stood up from the couch and began to walk out of the room
“Where are you going?” Asked Zak. “To go pack my trunk,” said Lizzie. “Better call Aaron, Billy and Jay, tell them what’s up.” Zak nodded as Lizzie left the room.
Lizzie ascended the stairs of the house that she had moved into less than a year previously. Despite knowing Zak ever since she was sixteen - still a student at Hogwarts - they had maintained nothing more than a strong friendship for close to eleven years. 
When Lizzie first met Zak she was in her sixth year at Hogwarts, thinking about how she was going to pass her N.E.W.Ts (or Nastily Exhausting Wizarding Tests), and looking forward to graduation. She had plans to attend college after leaving Hogwarts. By this point in her magical education, Lizzie had become quite the popular and promising student. She had a part time job at the popular pub the Three Broomsticks in the village of Hogsmeade, a large circle of friends, got near perfect grades, and her passion for riding horses had reignited after a tragic accident in her fourth year resulted in the death of her beloved horse, Raven, and she was appointed Captain of the Gryffindor equestrian team. 
It all came to a screeching halt after she rejected the advances of a fellow Gryffindor Cormac McLaggen who had been runner up for Keeper during the Gryffindor Quidditch tryouts. Unable to handle this scalding rejection from Lizzie, Cormac set out on a brutal campaign to destroy Lizzie’s reputation, which culminated in one of the most emotionally traumatic events of Lizzie’s life. 
Cormac and five of his friends had gang raped, and tortured Lizzie for over eight hours in the Gryffindor common room, branding her with cigarettes, forcing alcohol down her throat (though Lizzie almost never drank), and made her believe that she was going to die. 
Lizzie was lucky to escape with her life, and though she had not passed her Apparition test, she packed her trunk, and Apparated out of the castle, out of Hogwarts, and out of England. 
She ended up in Las Vegas, Nevada where she wandered the busy city strip for an hour before she finally ended up at Zak’s place. 
It took a lot of coaxing, but after a gentle talking to, and a cup of good old English tea in her hands, Lizzie finally began to recall the horrifying details of her ordeal that she was lucky to survive from. 
Zak then took Lizzie to the hospital where she was photographed and examined by doctors and nurses
As Lizzie began to pack her things in her old school trunk which had the initials E.S.B stamped on it in peeling letters, it was as if every item inside the dusty trunk, held some kind of memory: the scarlet with a gold jumping horse Capitan’s badge she used to wear when she was on the Gryffindor equestrian team, that after so many years, had become tarnished, and battered with age, the fake Horcrux locket that had taken place of the real one, An old photo album full of moving photographs of her and Raven, A torn letter from Oxford University offering Lizzie a full ride scholarship upon her graduation from Hogwarts, which was later revoked after stress from Cormac’s relentless harassment caused her grades to founder. 
Her old school robes which were now three sizes too small, and had become frayed, Her team show coat, with the embroidered Gryffindor lion on the right side, faded and beginning to peel from the fabric, several gold buttons on the front and back of the coat were missing; a rolled up, tattered poster of the Ghost Adventures Crew that Zak had personally signed, A dusty copy of  Training the Three-Day Horse and Rider, given to her by Professor Lupin during the early days of her equestrian career, and many other knick-knacks that had personal or sentimental value. 
It seemed silly for Lizzie to keep everything, and she certainly wasn’t the hoarding type of person, but everything in her trunk had ties to when she was happy at Hogwarts, long before she met Cormac. She may not have actually been killed that night, but as she put it, “My life ended the day I met Cormac. He didn’t kill me, but he might as well have,” 
As Lizzie continued to sort through her belongings, she came across a folded piece of paper. Upon reading its contents, Lizzie remembered it was an obituary that she had cut from the Daily Prophet, for her old Headmaster Albus Dumbledore, who sadly passed away just after Lizzie dropped out of Hogwarts. 
Lizzie had mixed feelings about Dumbledore. She thought he was a great person, but she did feel resentful, because when she went to him begging for protection against Cormac, Dumbledore turned her away, and never once took what she said seriously. 
Now, as Lizzie re-read the obituary in her hands, she felt a large lump in her throat and her chest constrict. This whole time, she thought he had known Dumbledore relatively well, not a well as her best friend, Harry Potter did, certainly, but well enough. Now she had to come to the rather excruciating realization that she didn’t know the man at all. And this  broke her heart. 
Lizzie gazed over at her bedside table to her iPhone which was charging on the table. It had been many years since she and Harry had spoken. In fact, the last time they saw each other, was during the Battle at Hogwarts which led to the downfall of Lord Voldemort. They had promised each other that they would stay in touch, and they had, exchanging a handful of letters back and forward, but they hadn’t talked face to face for nearly ten years. 
Harry had to be in his late twenties now, like Lizzie, and must have a family of his own, surely. She had received an invitation to his and Ginny Weasley’s wedding, and to their delight, Lizzie attended. It was a beautiful ceremony. She had also attended Hermione and Ron’s wedding as well. 
Although happy for her friends, Lizzie couldn’t help but feel a tiny bit of jealousy that she hadn’t taken the plunge herself. She had only been dating Zak for a few months, and he had given her a fair warning that the women in his life never stuck around due to the fact that Zak had more than one spirit attachment. 
Though fifteen years his senior, Lizzie and Zak were closer than ever before. When they had first met, Lizzie had been nothing more than a fan of Zak’s. It seemed too good to be true that he would eventually want her to be his girlfriend.
Lizzie thought about this as she stared at her phone. She had Harry’s phone number, which they had exchanged after the Battle. She had Ron, and Hermione’s too. One phone call couldn’t hurt, Lizzie thought as she sat down on her bed, opened her phone with a special six-digit password, opened her contacts, and found Harry’s number. She touched it and held the phone to her ear.
The phone rang twice before a male voice answered. “Hello?” “Hi, Harry, it’s Lizzie,” said Lizzie. “Lizzie! Blimey! It’s been a while!” Said Harry. “Yeah, tell me about it, sorry it’s been so long, I’ve been - er - busy,” “Let me guess,” said Harry. “Investigating the paranormal? Locking yourself in haunted locations overnight?” 
Lizzie smiled. “Yeah,” she said. “Professor McGonagall just sent me a letter. She wants me to investigate Hogwarts with Zak and the guys.” Harry sighed with amusement though Lizzie wasn’t fooled. Harry had been a skeptic when it came to ghosts and the paranormal for as long as they had been friends. 
When Lizzie confided in Harry that she could see and talk to spirits, he said she was mad. Though Lizzie was not the type of person to make up stories for the sole purpose of getting attention, there was no persuading her friend. Hermione gave a similar reaction, and Ron however was immensely intrigued. 
“Harry, I don’t know, I told Zak I’d go, but…” “You’re having second thoughts?” Asked Harry. Lizzie sighed. “Yeah,” she said. “I don’t know, there’s just something weird about going. The last time I was there - sorry - the last time we were there….” Her voice died in her throat, but Harry seemed to get it.
“But it’s not just that is it?” Asked Harry. This was really a testament as to how much of a bond Harry had with Lizzie. When they were at Hogwarts together, Harry had this uncanny ability to tell when Lizzie was holding back her feelings or when she was lying about something. Perhaps it was in her facial expressions that gave her away, and if it was, Lizzie never noticed, but somehow Harry still could tell when she wasn’t being entirely truthful.
“It’s about what Cormac did to you isn’t it?” Asked Harry. Lizzie was quiet on the other line. “You know you could always ask for an apology,” “Sorry doesn’t pay the bills, Harry,” said Lizzie, her voice bitter and full of icy resentment. “And it sure as hell doesn’t undo what that bastard and his friends did to me. D-do you know that I can’t have children because of what he did?’
“I didn’t know that. I’m so sorry, Lizzie,” said Harry, his tone was quiet, gentle and full of sympathy. “But I get it, you’re still angry that no one helped you.” “And it’s not like I never asked!” Said Lizzie. “I went to Dumbledore so many times! I begged for him to help me!” “I know you did, Liz,” said Harry gently. 
“But on a side note, I got a new horse,” said Lizzie, changing the subject abruptly. “Did you?” Asked Harry. “What’s his name?” “Her name,” said Lizzie. “Is Midnight,” “A mare?” Asked Harry laughing. “You got a mare?” “Why so surprised?” Asked Lizzie, smiling. “I don’t know,’’ said Harry. “It’s just - when we were at Hogwarts you always seemed to gravitate towards the male school horses. Is she - hard to handle? I mean does she give you attitude sometimes?” “Yeah, she really decided to play up just the other day,” said Lizzie. “But?” asked Harry. “Ehh, I was able to get her under control,” said Lizzie. 
“I think at the end of the day, she has a hard time coping with her own trauma.” “Was Midnight abused?” Asked Harry, sounding worried. “Oh, my gosh! Yes! Horribly!” Said Lizzie. “Her mouth was all torn up when I first met her because her previous owner used to wrap barbed wire around the bit, and force it into her mouth. He called it ‘training”’ said Lizzie bitterly. 
Harry sighed. “Well, now she has you,” he said. “Yep, and she’s doing so much better,” said Lizzie. “Good,” said Harry. Lizzie heard a knock on the door as she looked up and saw Zak standing in the doorway. “Um, I gotta go, I’ll call you later, before we get on the train,” 
“Okay,” said Harry. “And Lizzie?” “Yeah?” Asked Lizzie. “I love you, you know that right?” Lizzie smiled. “I love you too,” she said as she hung up the phone. 
“Harry?” Asked Zak. “Mm-hmm,’’ said Lizzie. Zak walked into the room, and sat on the bed next to Lizzie and kissed her on the cheek. “Nearly done packing?” Asked Zak. “Halfway,” said Lizzie. 
Zak reached into Lizzie’s still open trunk, took out a bundle wrapped in a silk scarf, and unwrapped it. 
Into his hand fell a single steel horseshoe. But there was also something wrapped in plastic inside the silk scarf as well. Zak felt inside the silky bundle and pulled out a tiny plastic bag, which inside contained a single lock of jet black hair. Zak could tell immediately that the hair inside the bag was horse hair. And he didn’t have to ask Lizzie who the shoe or the hair belonged to. 
“Hagrid gave that to me after Raven died,” said Lizzie. “He knew how much Raven meant to me,” Zak smiled. 
“I called, Aaron, Billy and Jay, and they agreed to come to Hogwarts. Dakota’s agreed to come too,  but I can’t think for the life of me how we plan on getting there,” said Zak. “What do you mean?” Asked Lizzie. “I don’t - fly anymore,” said Zak. “Oh, no worries!” Said Lizzie. “We’ll Apparate to Kings Cross in London, then, we can take the Hogwarts Express from there!” Said Lizzie. 
“Okay, I guess,” said Zak. 
They continued to clean out Lizzie’s trunk sorting out the rubbish, the sentimental trinkets, and the robes that they could donate to secondhand shops in Diagon Alley. After she finished cleaning out her trunk, she began to pack it full of things she planned on taking with her. 
She included two pairs of riding breeches, her tall riding boots and gloves and her Charles Owen riding helmet. Then she packed her casual clothes, her wand, and the equipment she would be using during their investigation. She even took some of her old spell books (the ones that were still in good condition), and even texted Hermione asking her how to make Essence of Dittany, and other potions that could come in handy whilst on their trip. She also took her 357 handgun just in case.
Just as they were finishing up, Zak heard a tap, tap, tap! noise on the window and was surprised to see a large barn owl clutching a yellow envelope in its talons. 
Lizzie scrambled to her feet, and opened the window, removed the screen, and the owl hopped onto the sill, as Lizzie carefully took the package from the owl, as it ruffled its feathers, turned and took flight. Even after all these years, Lizzie still continued to receive mail by ‘owl post’.
A quick look at the return address told her it was from Harry. Lizzie tore the envelope and inside was a piece of parchment folded intricately in different directions, yet it appeared to be blank. There was a note there too. 
Lizzie, 
I duplicated the Marauder’s Map, and sent you a copy.  I thought you may find it useful during your investigation. You remember how to use it, but you may need to teach Zak. Just remember to tell him how to wipe it clean so no one can read it. 
Much love and luck 
Harry. 
Lizzie smiled with excitement. “Is that from Harry?” Asked Zak. “Yeah, he sent me a copy of the Marauder’s Map,” said Lizzie. “What’s that?” Asked Zak. “A magical map of Hogwarts,” said Lizzie. “It belongs to Harry, but he duplicated it for me so we could use it during our investigation.” 
“How does it work?” Asked Zak. “Looks like a blank piece of paper.” 
Lizzie smiled as she picked up her wand from her bedside table, and tapped the parchment with it. “I solemnly swear that I am up to no good,” said Lizzie clearly. Ink lines snaked across the parchment, forming words, and lines. After a moment the surface of the parchment that had been blank only moments ago, now bore the words: 
Messers Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot, and Prongs, are proud to present
The Marauder’s Map. 
Zak’s blue eyes widened in awe, as Lizzie unfolded the parchment, showing the inside of the map. It looked a lot like interior plans for a house. And there were moving footprints  in countless areas of the map, each marked with a name, and moving in various directions. 
“Holy shit!” Zak gasped. Lizzie smiled. “Mm-hmm,” she said. “And…This is Hogwarts?” Asked Zak. “Yep!” Said Lizzie, feeling a strong sense of pride and satisfaction at her boyfriend’s awed look. “Every square inch of it!” “That’s awesome!” Said Zak. “Right?” Asked Lizzie, giggling. “I reckon we can map our our x cameras on here,” “Lizzie,” said Zak, holding Lizzie’s face in his hands, and kissing her. “You’re a genius,” 
Lizzie smiled. “I do have to make a few stops before we go to Kings Cross to catch the train,” “Where to?” Asked Zak. “I want to stop in Diagon Alley, to a secondhand robes shop, and donate my old school robes, and Gringotts, to get some money out of my account,’’ said Lizzie. 
“Ah,” said Zak. Lizzie tapped the Marauder’s Map with her wand again. “Mischief Managed,” she said, tapping the map, and it was instantly erased, looking blank once more. 
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jillmckenzie1 · 5 years ago
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Rambo’s Gonna Rambo
Rambo is worth taking seriously.
Okay, stop. Please, please stop laughing. I’m serious! Well…kind of. I know that in the world of pop culture, Rambo occupies a very distinctive place. A place that’s viewed as anti-intellectual, overly aggressive, and more than a tad racist. Sylvester Stallone’s musclebound murderer has been featured in movies, books, video games, and even a Saturday morning cartoon.
Maybe it’s not quite fair to put the ownership of Rambo entirely upon Stallone. The character was first introduced in David Morrell’s 1972 novel First Blood. It’s a lean and mean thriller that doesn’t screw around, and Morrell takes the myth of war heroes like Audie Murphy and pushes it in a compelling direction.
After that, Sylvester Stallone got involved, and over several decades we got:
  1982’s First Blood, a top-notch pulp thriller in which Stallone goes up against total dick sheriff Brian Dennehy. With the exception of a not-good sequence featuring “funny” National Guardsmen, this is a well-directed, written, and acted film from top to bottom that has something to say.
1985’s Rambo: First Blood Part II, which made the character iconic. Remember the intelligence and raw emotion of First Blood? Like the hordes of Vietnamese soldiers, it’s utterly crushed and replaced with glossy stupidity. James Cameron co-wrote the screenplay, and I wonder what it would have been like if he’d directed.
1988’s Rambo III features Our Hero fighting for freedom in Afghanistan with the heroic Mujahideen. It’s a very bad movie, in which Rambo cauterizes a wound with gunpowder, a helicopter fights a tank, and Rambo is indirectly responsible for the creation of the Taliban. Bad Rambo, bad!
2008’s Rambo gets us back on track, thematically speaking. Rambo has moved to Thailand and works as a boatman and snake catcher.* He must rescue a group of feckless missionaries from evil Burmese soldiers, and we’re treated to some astonishingly violent action scenes.
  We’re now in the late period phase of Sylvester Stallone’s career, and a brief glance at his filmography shows us a mixture of cheap direct-to-video movies and sequels to earlier hits. The most recent of these is Rambo: Last Blood. Is the series closed out with notes of intelligence? It is not.
We’re reintroduced to Rambo, who’s spent several years living quietly on his Arizona ranch. He’s become highly proficient at horse riding and training, and my heart leaped at the thought of a movie about Rambo becoming a rodeo trick rider. Alas, it was not to be, and my disappointment was profound. He’s also spent a great deal of time digging a network of tunnels underneath the property. Why, pray tell, has he done this? We have no idea. Maybe he’s just really into Dig Dug.
Anyway, it’s not as if Rambo is rattling around the ranch all by his lonesome. He lives with his old friend Maria (Adriana Barraza) and her granddaughter Gabrielle (Yvette Monreal). Gabrielle calls Rambo “Uncle John,” but he’s really more of a surrogate father to her. We’re told that Rambo takes a galaxy of medications to manage his simmering rage. We’re also told that the bond between Rambo and Gabrielle is so strong that the former killing machine has become positively cheery. How can two seemingly contradictory ideas be introduced within seconds within this movie? Why, reasons, silly viewer!
Yet all is not tranquil in casa del Rambo. Gabrielle has discovered the whereabouts of her biological father. It turns out her pops skipped town when her mother got cancer and is living across the border in Mexico. Understandably, Gabrielle wants a word with him. Rambo warns her that Mexico is a violent nightmare that no human being would want to visit; a shithole country, if you will.
Naturally, she doesn’t listen, and she’s promptly captured by the wicked Martinez Brothers. There’s Victor (Oscar Jaenada), a violent psychopath, and Hugo (Sergio Peris-Mencheta), also a violent psychopath. Their plan is for her to be sold as a sex slave. When Rambo learns of her kidnapping, he heads to the headquarters of the Martinez Brothers and immediately gets his ass whipped. Our Hero is nursed back to health by “independent journalist” Carmen, and he must formulate a plan to rescue Gabrielle and slaughter as many faceless henchmen as possible.
The problem isn’t just that Rambo: Last Blood is a bad movie. The problem is that the ingredients are there to cleanly cap off the franchise and actually say something of value. Could director Adrian Grunberg have fixed it? He’s got the chops, as he’s spent decades as an assistant director and made the surprisingly pretty good Mel Gibson vehicle Get the Gringo. He’s also a journeyman filmmaker this time around, one lacking in a singular vision. His staging is clunky, his shots are often very dark, and there are only a few action sequences.
There’s one action sequence in particular we should discuss. Remember I mentioned Rambo’s underground antics? During two montages** we see him setting a massive amount of traps within the tunnels. The climax features numerous henchmen being shot, stabbed, beheaded, impaled, punched, crushed, and generally disrespected. It plays like the kid from Home Alone grew up and spent several satisfying years with the Green Berets. Can we assume that Rambo dug the tunnels on the off chance that he’d need to kill a bunch of people within them? If so, doesn’t that make Rambo…well…a serial killer?
A smart screenplay might have run in that direction, the idea that Rambo has always been the Frankenstein’s monster of the U.S. military and this is just the extreme example of the inattention veterans receive. Written by Stallone and Matthew Cirulnick, what we have here is nothing like a smart screenplay. None of the female characters behave with anything approaching agency, which would have been nice. If you’re going to have a hypercompetent slab of granite as your protagonist, then you damn sure ought to have an antagonist that’s equal to him—either someone who’s as much of a killing machine as Rambo or someone who excels intellectually as much as Rambo excels physically. Not so much here, and our villains have no relatable personalities or motivations, other than being snarling psychopaths plucked from the fever dreams of the MAGA swamp. The rancid icing on this trash bag cake is characters speaking in the most obvious dialogue possible, like Rambo saying at one point, “I tried to come home, but I never really arrived…”
I’ll ask you again to hold your derisive laughter, but Sylvester Stallone is a genuinely intelligent man, as well as a genuinely talented performer. He’s a deft hand at comedy, he can hold his own with the greats when it comes to drama, and he can portray an action hero who’s sympathetic and vulnerable. The problem with his performance here is that he’s playing a guy named John Rambo, but he’s not behaving like the Rambo we knew for three-quarters of the movie. In prior films, Stallone has portrayed him as a deeply damaged man who wields violence as an art and hates himself for it. Yet for the majority of Last Blood, Rambo is fairly laid-back and even cracks a few jokes. It’s as if Stallone is playing, I don’t know, Ron Glambo, an escapee from a Taken and Logan rip-off.
It wasn’t long ago that Creed was released and the character of Rocky Balboa came full-circle. Rocky is probably Stallone’s most beloved character, but there was a way for the character of John Rambo to receive a degree of closure. A door was open, but I wonder if it hasn’t closed now due to Stallone’s age and the low probability that Rambo: Last Blood becomes a hit. First Blood examined a man grappling with PTSD that’s forced into violence. Last Blood, unfortunately, examines a franchise grappling with a shocking lack of relevance.
    *But, unfortunately, not at the same time.
**Somebody could write a fascinating dissertation about the meaning of montages in Stallone movies. However, I am not that somebody.
from Blog https://ondenver.com/rambos-gonna-rambo/
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