#snake face Voldemort | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

sunnami · 1 year ago

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❝i am half-agony, half-hope. . . i have loved none but you.❞

summary: how the marauders loved you in their time. featuring harry potter the time-traveller and sixth-wheel.

pairing/s: poly!marauders + lily x reader.

tags: reader is referred to as she/her and a mother throughout the whole fic[!], reader is a violent gremlin who craves blood but the marauders love you for that, implied child abuse[!], mentions of blood and violence[!], disgustingly sappy poetic fluff, no angst, happy ending, not proofread we die like finnick odair, edited: very minor detail.

note: there is little plot, it’s just the marauders and their adoration for you. thank you all so much for your kind responses to my first marauders fic :(( ilysm! i hope you enjoy this one as well! because there are parts when i was writing that i ended up kicking my feet in the air and smiling to myself.

“MY NAME IS HARRY POTTER. I come from twenty-years in the future, you’re my mum — one of my ‘em, actually. It’s complicated. And you’re married to James Potter, Remus Lupin, and Sirius Black.”

You blink.

“Get the fuck out of my room!”

Harry James Potter has dodged many things in his life. Killing curses, jinxes, girls, Draco Malfoy, and Dudley’s sloppy punches, but he’s never had to dodge his sixteen-year-old mother’s fuzzy slipper before. (Godric, that sounds weird, even in his head.) He doesn’t know precisely how he arrived here. In the Slytherin common room, to be exact, in your dorm. Harry remembers duelling with Death Eaters, Hermione calling his name, and a flash of light hitting him square in the chest, then he remembers waking up in the cold tiles of the snake dungeon. He nearly throws himself off the window when he meets your eyes, bleary from interrupted sleep — it’s not often he gets to meet [read: one of] his dead parents, after all, three had been brutally murdered by Voldemort, and one killed by his own loony cousin. He misses Sirius, though. A lot. And right about now, he could do with some of Hermione’s nagging and brilliant plan-making.

At present — or past, Harry guesses — he watches you scramble out from your duvet, hand clumsily reaching for your wand as you snarl at him. He wonders if his mother knows that he’s encountered other creatures far more threatening than her. Oh shit, he realizes with all the forces of an angry Hermione Granger, isn’t this the last thing he’s supposed to do? But, well, Harry has given, and given, so much of himself all for the greater good — just this once, he’d like to see his parents alive and well. Even if they were currently trying to blast him into the walls.

“If you’d just let me explain, mum—!” Harry pleads, nearly dropping his glasses after dodging one of your stinging hexes. Godric, you’re crazy. “Please!”

“Stop calling me that!” You screech, eyes set ablaze. Harry finds that you’re quite dynamic with your attacks. A hairbrush, followed by a stinging jinx, then a thick History of Magic textbook — which rudely hits him in the face, but he doesn’t dare complain because you’re his mother, and he’s respectful like that — and after you’ve exhausted your breath, running him into a corner, and your nostrils flare with the stubbornness of a lion, you point the tip of your wand at him. “If this is another one of the Prewett’s shitty pranks, I want you to leave! You are in the girls’ dormitory beyond midnight, and so help me, if you aren’t walking out that door in the next five seconds, I will kill you and string you up by your bottoms for everyone in school to see! Maybe all your stupid rumours of me being a Death-Eater might come true after all!”

“You’re a Death-Eater?” Harry asks dumbly.

You growl furiously, and Harry figures that was not the right thing to say. “I wonder what McGonagall would say if I delivered your head to her on a silver platter.”

“Professor,” Harry corrects with a toothy grin. “Professor McGonagall.”

You slam his head against the wall.

Definitely the wrong thing to say.

Harry groans, little Dobby heads floating around his vision. Why was this so much harder than actually facing Voldemort? Quick, he needed to think of something, otherwise he’d end up eviscerated to ashes on your cold, stone floors. Harry is pretty sure you’d use his remains as decoration to send off a message to your enemies.

“You hate your father,” Harry slurs through the pain, remembering Remus’s stories of how you were the gentlest magical being he’s ever had the privilege to love — now that Harry thinks about it, Remus was being extremely biased, nothing about you is gentle at all. “He’s forcing you to marry someone old enough to be your grandfather. You love to read Muggle literature but had to stop when your father burnt your whole collection of books. Your favorite novel is Persuasion by Jane Austen. It’s the one book you carry with you everywhere, you could never get tired of it.”

Your grip on his shoulders falters, but the fury in your eyes crackles. “This isn’t funny.”

“It’s not meant to be funny, mum,” Harry croaks, voice cracking pathetically — strange how this is the most he’s ever uttered the word, mum; it’s a peculiar string of letters, foreign on his tongue. “You have tremors in your left leg from when your father cast the Cruciatus curse on you. One of your dearest friends is a Hogwarts house-elf named Pipley. You cheated on your Transfiguration essay once, and—”

“That’s enough!” You bark, eyes narrowed in dangerous slits. “I don’t know where you heard those from, you creepy, little stalker, but if you want to keep breathing, then I suggest you shut up.”

Harry scoffs — you don’t understand. Everything he’s learned about you is from Sirius and Remus. They talk about you with whispered devotion, your name like a prayer on their lips, their eyes glazed with wistfulness as though they could see you reaching out for them — but you were dead in Harry’s time. Yet, you might as well have been alive with their tales of you.

(“She’s a different kind of beautiful,” Sirius had said, a year after breaking out from Azkaban, sitting by the fire in Grimmauld Place, taking a swig of decade-old firewhiskey, “The kind of beautiful you don’t want to take your eyes off from because you’re afraid she’ll disappear from your eyes. But you won’t forget her, oh no, you’ll memorize the freckles and moles on her skin, the scars from her years, the light in her eyes, and the way she holds her head up high. You should have seen her, James, she. . . she was — is glorious.”)

“I told you,” says Harry firmly — although he loves his mother very much, she’s beginning to wear him out, “My name is Harry James Potter, I come from twenty-years in the future. You are one of my parents.” A lightbulb flashes in his head. He squirms in your hold, reaching for his robe pocket until he finds the thing he’s looking for. Harry dangles the ring in front of you, grinning in success when your eyes flash in recognition. “It’s—”

“A family heirloom,” You say breathlessly. The alexandrite winks under the light, a familiar gold band with the Latin inscription of your House words. “Where did you steal this from?”

Harry rolls his eyes. “You left it for me in my Gringotts vault. It’s my heirloom now. You have to believe me, there’s no way you can deny this.”

You take a step backwards, nibbling on your lower lip, as you stagger to your bed — Harry nearly stumbling to catch you in case you fell; adjusting to the living proof of time travel was quite difficult, he, of all people, should know. He exhales, dragging a hand down his face. “Magic, amirite?”

You throw a pillow at him, which he catches gracefully thanks to his Seeker reflexes, as you plop down in the comforts of your quilts. “Sleep. The other girls won’t be back until the end of the holiday. We can deal with whatever this is in the morning. It’s way too early for me to process the idea of a future Potter spawn following me around.”

Harry smiles. “Yes, mum.”

ONE THING THAT his fathers failed to tell him about you, and that Harry had to learn himself, was that you took ages to get ready. You sat on the chair in front of your vanity mirror, the birch wood legs whittled with snakes, and it was as though you had a Sticking Charm on the cushion. Harry didn’t know there could be so many creams, oils, and serums, and powders one put on their face. He blanches when you turn to offer him a cream for his under eyes. (“Suit yourself.” You shrug, turning to brush your cheek with dusts of pink. “Just saying, those dark circles aren’t doing you any favors.”)

“What am I like in the future?” You ask, a kind lilt to your voice, much like a warm hug, much like home.

Harry stiffens, shoving his hands in pockets of the robes that were twice his size — you had given him the garments of Lucius Malfoy to change in, which you apparently had stolen from his room. It’s come full circle, really, the Sorting Hat had once told him he would be great in Slytherin, and now here he was, looking fabulous in green — because he was about to hurl at the feel of the velvet on his skin, knowing slimy Lucius Malfoy had worn it. (“No son—” You pause with a tight purse in your lips, as if you still can’t accept the fact. Harry doesn’t blame you. “—no son of mine will be parading around in red of all colors, future or not.” And Harry finds that he really doesn’t care, so long as you call him your son.)

“Loved,” replies Harry gruffly, avoiding your eyes in the reflection of your mirror — they were piercing. One look and Harry wanted to spill all of his deepest, darkest secrets. He remembers the photographs in his album, the one he’s stared at so many times as a child. It’s a moving photograph of the five of you, fresh out of Hogwarts, each wearing a smile that stretched from ear-to-ear. Before Sirius and Remus, it was the only semblance of proof that Harry had — that you had once been alive. Remus is holding you by the waist in the picture, twirling you around as autumn leaves fell. You were — are — loved, and Harry thinks there’s no better description than that.

(“I bloody hated her cat,” says Remus with a roguish quirk to his lips, regalling Harry with more talks of his parents. “Sirius, too. We just never got along with the little creature. But your mother loved it, and we would have done anything to make her happy. She deserved it, you see. She deserved more than what I had to offer her, but still she chose me anyway. And I am a selfish man, Harry, I crave glimpses of her and the whispers of her voice. She has made me a mad man whose only reprieve is her touch.”)

You hum knowingly. “Stupid question, I guess. Since you aren’t allowed to reveal anything more about the future.” You sigh, gracefully threading your arms in the sleeves of your shirt, a green tie in the center of your collar. “Except, of course, when you gave me a heart attack in the middle of the night by telling me the last thing I want to become — no offense, I just don’t see how a relationship with those rowdy bunch would work. They get on my nerves far too much for me to ever feel anything other than disgust.”

Harry doesn’t need a mirror to see that his expression has contorted in confusion; brows knitted and upper lip crinkled. By their memories of you, you all were madly in love in Hogwarts. Damn. This just made his trip to the past a lot harder. No maze seems to be ever just a maze.

Luckily, you don’t notice him brewing a grand master plan to bring his parents together. Instead, you say, “But you don’t seem to be phased by any of this. If I had been thrown twenty years into the past, I would have puked my guts out twice at some point.”

“Thanks for the image,” says Harry with a scowl. Truthfully, it had either been a present with a noseless Dark Lord to face, trauma to unpack but really never have the chance to, or a past where all of his parents were alive, and a chance to talk with them for however long he has. He knows where he’ll be staying, thank you very much.

“Anytime,” You reply with an impish smile.

Your heels pad across the floor as you walk over to him, mouth clicking as you pat the top of his head, full of wild, untameable Potter hair. “You need a trim soon,” You mutter, frowning, as you brush the thick strands away from his eyes, then you gasp — and Harry knows exactly what’s coming next. “Oh, you’ve got Evans’s eyes. That’s freaky.”

“I know.” Harry grins.

“Here’s the plan,” You say as you lead him out of your room, making sure no one saw him walking out of your door and getting the wrong impression — because that would be so wrong on many levels, but also, explaining to someone else that the person beside you was a time-traveller was just complicated in general. The Slytherin dungeon is unfamiliarly familiar, eerily quiet, as the two of you made your way out. “Just say you’re Potter’s distant relative, twice or thrice removed, and you’ve always been here. If you lie to their faces enough, they’ll believe it eventually.”

“Will that work?” Harry doesn’t really mind — he needs a connection to James, his father, if he’s going to work out a connection between you and the others, because at the moment, it doesn’t seem like you’re too fond of them. There’s a tick on your jaw every time you mumble the word, Potter. Nevertheless, Harry decides he’s going to spend the duration of the holiday break trying to set you up with them — on the list of most insane things he’s ever done, living out the Parent Trap was high up the tally.

You shrug. “They’ve fallen for less.”

(“She’s got this adorable habit when she lies,” Sirius tells Harry, whipping up a stack of pancakes for their breakfast — Remus browsing through the morning paper. It’s the closest he’s ever been to a normal family. “It’s not obvious to her, of course, but I know her more than I know my own name. So we play along with it.” For a moment, he stops drizzling the maple syrup on the well-cooked batter, gazing at Remus fondly. “D’you remember that, Moony? She led us straight to one of her pranks, and we ended up covered in slug slime. She was so obvious — with her adorable fucking giggles. I need help with Charms, she said, and we knew right away it was a set-up. But it didn’t matter. I’d happily let her lead me to my ruin.”)

The Great Hall is the same as Harry remembers. Now that most have returned home for the holidays, those who stay back mingle with students from other Houses, sharing meals under the bewitched ceiling, their low murmurs and hushed Christmas greetings bouncing off the walls. Harry scours the four tables to find a hint of blazing red hair, or the scent of impending trouble. Fortunately, he doesn’t have to search very far. As fate would have it, James Potter finds you — and where he is, Sirius Black is sure to follow.

You’re barely seated when James comes bounding over to your table — more precisely, he struts, and Harry is horrified to ever be proven wrong by Snape, of all people. He ignores the roll of your eyes as he drags a leg over the bench, sitting to face you as Sirius occupies the space to your left before Harry can even sit down. He can’t even fathom how weird it is to see his parents as rambunctious teenagers. Lovesick, rambunctious teenagers.

“Morning, dove.” James preens under your glare, stealing a grape from your bowl with a boyish smirk. His hair looks as though he’s ran his hand through it many times. “You look ravishing today.”

“As always,” Sirius pipes in. “But that eyeshadow really isn’t complementing your skin tone, my darling.”

You smile at him, right before your lips twist into a cutthroat sneer. “Piss off, Black.”

James stifles a laugh as he shovels a mass of potatoes on your plate, then pumpkin pasties, and slides a steaming cup of Dragon Well tea in front of you.

“What the hell are you doing, Potter?” You reach over to smack his arm when he sprinkles apple slices and bacon on your breakfast.

“What does it look like?” James smiles lopsidedly. “You need to eat more, honey.”

(In the future, Sirius will tell Harry, “It started off as a joke, a way to get on her nerves — but then, it just became this thing about taking care of her, making sure she got enough sleep before her tests, wondering if she had breakfast or dinner, staying with her in the library, walking her to the Slytherin common room, and sending her stupid notes just to make her laugh. You don’t get it, Harry. I’d give my every breath to ensure her life. We all would.” Harry doesn’t see Sirius any more during that evening, but he hears a bottle crashing against a wall, cracking into a million pieces, and the masked sound of Sirius sobbing, and Harry decides to leave him alone for the night.)

Then, you tear your eyes away from James — he huffs, pushing your plate to you, mildly annoyed that you’ve deprived him of your eyes; they were his favorite part of you, you see, so expressive and full of life; James thinks you put the stars to shame — and thankfully, you remember that Harry still exists. You lightly smack Sirius’s leg until he gives Harry some room to sit. “Potter, meet other Potter. It’s the holidays, shouldn’t it be the perfect time to let go of House prejudices and spend time with family?”

James looks at Harry up and down. “You must be from dad’s side of the family with all that hair.”

Harry lets out a breath of relief. That was easy — way too easy. When he takes the vacant space in between you and Sirius, you dump all the available food on his plate, just as James had done for you.

“Eat,” You say with a tone of finality. “You look like the wind could snap you in half.”

“Yes, m—” Harry stops himself before he could finish his sentence, avoiding Sirius’s curious gaze.

“Wow.” Sirius pokes Harry in the shoulder and in the cheek. “You really look like a mini-James, you’ve even got his terrible eyesight.”

“Oi!”

Your fork clatters against the silverware as you turn to Sirius with a shrill. “Not that I do enjoy your company — because, trust me, I do not want you here at all and would very much prefer if you got out of my sight — but why are you here? The Gryffindor table is over there. Unless your housemates finally got sick of you, Potter, which I can definitely see happening.”

James chuckles, tossing another grape in his mouth without taking his eyes off you. “It’s as you said, isn’t it? It’s the time for putting aside House prejudices. And I think it’s a lovely day to enjoy a meal with my favorite snake.”

“Drop dead,” You retort, digging into your chicken with a little more force than necessary.

“Oh, dove.” James shakes his head, a teasing grin pulling at his lips. “It’s cute that you think death will keep me from you.”

(Harry’s been told before, probably by Sirius, that this line had been wedged into his wedding vows for you. “A dramatic one, James was,” Sirius chuckles to himself one morning, Harry and Hermione listening intently, “He always said he’d rather die than ever hurt her. There was this time in seventh year, they had a fight — it was ugly — and she had ignored him for a week. James cried in Remus’s arms begging him to cut his heart out, saying that he didn’t deserve to keep on breathing, not after making you cry.”)

“That is so creepy,” You say in disgust, scrunching your nose. Sirius chortles at your side. “I still wonder why Evans agreed to go out with you.”

“It’s all part of the charm, dove.” James winks. “It’s all part of the charm.”

Harry wants to barf, actually.

After breakfast, James then decides to introduce Harry to Lily, Remus, and Peter. (He’s gonna need the patience of a saint to not Avada Kedavra that rat on the spot.) Harry had spent the whole morning watching Sirius peel oranges and give them to you with a smitten look in his eyes — naturally, you gave whatever Sirius offered you to Harry, and each time Padfoot would visibly wilt. If he were in his Animagus form, Harry thinks he would be whining by now, tongue out and all. James and Sirius follow after you like lost puppies when you extricate yourself from the table.

“Where are you going?” James calls, hot on your heels as you leave the Great Hall.

“Away from you, Potter!”

And James actually sighs when you turn the corner and disappear from their peripheral vision. Seconds later, he turns to Harry with a blinding smile, “She’s definitely charmed.”

Harry chortles.

“Well, come on then!” James guffaws as he wraps an arm around Harry’s neck — this is so, so strange. They begin walking in the opposite direction of where you went. “I still can’t believe we’ve got another Potter here and in Slytherin. I think I would have remembered Minnie calling your name during the Sorting Ceremony. What year are you in?”

He’s supposed to start his sixth-year in a few weeks. “Fifth.” Technically.

“We should ask Lily,” says Sirius, hands in his pockets and ebony ringlets tickling his nape. “She’s got the best memory out of all of us.”

It’s odd, Harry thinks, meeting the person who’s got his eyes — or the other way around, as people have told him. It’s like someone carved out the emeralds of Lily Evans’s eyes and bestowed it upon Harry for safekeeping. She sits beside Remus Lupin, head resting on his shoulder, hands clasped together, as they enjoy the shade. Nex to them, oblivious to their intimate conversation, is Peter Pettigrew — with his rosy, cherub cheeks and innocent blue eyes; not at all the image of a pathological, cowardly liar. Their heads snap in attention as James boisterously cries for their name.

“Marauders — and Lily-pad — meet ickle Potter.” James lightheartedly whacks Harry on the back, to which Harry feels his lungs spill out from his mouth, he’s sure there’s an imprint of his father’s hand on his back now.

“There’s two Potters in Hogwarts?” Sea-green eyes look at him in scrutiny as Lily knits her brows. “How even is the castle still standing?”

James cackles like it’s the best joke he’s ever heard in his entire life, slapping his knee for dramatic effect. Oh, well, at least they’re buying Harry’s half-baked lie. At this point, it’s not even baked, it’s just wet, soggy, and poorly done. “Good one, Lily-pad!”

Sirius ruffles Remus’s shaggy blonde hair, canines bared in a wide grin. “This one here’s Moony, uptight prefect in the morning and absolute beast in the evening.”

Harry blanches. Surely he was talking about his furry problem, right? Right?

Remus doesn’t even flinch, just peels off Sirius’s hand from him and extends his hand out to Harry. “Please do not mind him. Remus Lupin, nice to meet you. Although, I can’t believe this is the first time we’ve met. We would have definitely remembered if we had another Potter in our midst.”

“It’s true, we Potters are just hard to forget,” says James, smiling cheekily.

Harry pokes the inside of his cheek with his tongue. “Mum didn’t take the Potter name. I’m part Dursley. Muggle.”

Lily hums, toying at the ends of her bright hair. “Dursley, huh? What a familiar name.”

“It’s a common one,” Harry assures her — not at all the names of the people who would take him in after they died. And make his life miserable.

“I suppose you’re right,” says Lily, unconvinced.

“And this is Peter.” James introduces the boy eagerly, pride in his voice — as though this isn’t the person who literally allies himself with Voldemort. As if Peter won’t betray his friends all because of fear.

“N–Nice to meet you,” Peter stammers with a nervous fidget, “Any family of James is a friend of ours.”

Harry’s eye twitches.

IT IS ALMOST COMICAL — the way their eyes land on your figure, bursting through the courtyard from the corridors, winter cloak swishing with every step, tendrils of hair swaying in the crisp wind, and head held up high, thick books under your arms. You pause in front of the Marauders, face blank, then you turn to Peter, greeting him with a: “Hello, only Gryffindor I can tolerate.”

Peter’s cheeks burn a saccharine hue of pink. Oh, no, no, no — absolutely not — Harry will not stand for a little crush Peter Pettigrew has on his mother. He needs James to act now. “Hi,” Peter replies shyly.

Lily quirks her lips. “Hello, princess, see your score for the Astronomy test yet?”

You scowl. “Zip it, Evans.”

The sound of Lily’s laughter fills the atmosphere — it’s the sort of melody that makes flowers bloom in deserts. “Had a bit of difficulty with the star charts?”

Sirius pinches your cheek — Harry thinks you’re going to murder him on the spot. “Difficulty? I think this one just slept through the whole thing.”

James snickers. “Must have been one hell of a nap, princess. You were drooling on my jumper.”

“I most certainly do not drool!” You gasp, appalled, eyes wide as you step away from Sirius.

Sirius rolls his eyes. “What? Is drooling too barbaric for the pretty, little pure-blooded princess now? Newsflash, pet, you’re just as human as we are.”

“Oh, you horrible, loathsome, infuriating—” You whip around to beat his chest with the course book in your grasp — it’s the kind of book Hermione would consider for light reading.

“Irresistibly attractive—?” Sirius supplies for you, grin widening with as he captures your wrist with his hands.

“In your dreams!” You shrill.

You exhale slowly, eyes closing, chest rising when you take a sharp inhale. You open your eyes and stare straight at Harry — for a moment he fears that you’ll bite his head off. “Harry, dear, will you accompany me to the library? I think I’ve found something important regarding your situation.”

Harry nods. “Is it time already?”

“Yes,” You say firmly. “And time is of the essence. Come on.”

“Wait!” Lily calls out to you as you turn to head back to the castle, Harry in tow — he tries to avoid the way James is glaring at your linked arms. “Hogsmeade next week?”

Your jaw falls to the ground — this must have been unrehearsed, if the others’ reactions were anything to go by; Remus had dropped his book in shock, Sirius looked like he couldn’t decide between applauding Lily’s bravery or shaking her, and James was somehow frozen in time. “Excuse me?”

“You’re excused, princess,” says Lily, dimples poking out of her cheek as she takes another step towards you. “You, me, Hogsmeade. A date. I’m sure you’ve gone on one of those before.”

Harry elbows your stomach as you stare at Lily in shock. It takes a few moments to break you out of your stupor. “A–And what makes you think I’ll just go with you?”

Lily shrugs. “I’m fit. Aren’t I, Remus?”

“The fittest,” says Remus without missing a beat.

You laugh incredulously. “Do you just expect me to go along with this? You’re mad, Evans.”

Harry glares at you. You need to go along with this.

“Are you scared, princess?” Lily’s face is inches away from yours, noses almost touching — Harry doesn’t know if he should keep watching this painful way of flirting — as she grins at you, happiness barely contained within her eyes.

To your credit, you don’t back down. (Harry has to say this for the masses: he saw your gaze flitter down to Lily’s lips for a split second.) “Stop calling me that, Evans.”

“One date, then.”

You growl in exasperation, eyes flickering to the boys behind her back — pretending not to hear their conversation. “I suppose I’ll have to deal with them as well?”

Lily beams and Harry swears sunflowers could grow in her direction. “We’re a package deal.”

“Unfortunately,” You utter — but Harry notices it, the lack of venom in your voice. You straighten your posture, nose lifted haughtily, “I choose where we’re going.”

“Done.” The sun peeks out from the cloud just as Lily smiles at you.

“And I want to—”

“Done,” Remus interjects raspily, peering up at you from underneath his lashes. “Anything you want, it’s yours.”

You fight a growing smile, but continue, “If we’re going out in public, you’re going to have to wear—”

“Done,” says James giddily, he looks as though he could kiss you in front of everyone without a care in the world.

“You can’t just agree to anything I say!” You flap your arms in frustration.

“Yes, dear,” Sirius teases.

“Do you know how much you piss me off, Black?” You squawk. “Because you are this close to—”

“You are so fucking beautiful,” Sirius confesses, every pretense shed raw from his skin, sincerity pouring from his words.

“I—” You falter, heat rushing to your cheeks. “You’ve gone mad.”

“It’s your fault, dove,” says James, eyes twinkling like crescent moons as he smiles. “You best take accountability for this.”

“You’re incorrigible — all of you,” You say as you avoid their gazes.

(But they were yours. Past, present, and future. They loved you so much that their soul was no longer their own — it was yours; yours to keep, yours to break, and yours to love. It would be unjust to ask them why they loved you. Do we ask why the sun rises each day without rest? Do we ask a daisy to stop blooming, or a tree to stop growing after it has endured storms and floods? After all, we do not ask why humans follow the light in a tunnel shrouded in darkness.)

“Come on, Harry, let’s go.” You reach for his hand, he notices immediately that the tips of your ears are pink, and your palms are warm with sweat. He barely sees Peter wave goodbye before you tug him in the direction of the castle entrance.

“Wait up!” Remus catches up to you two in quick strides, offering to carry your books for you — not that you agree, stubborn Slytherin that you are. “I’ll walk you to the library.”

“There’s no need for that, Lupin, thank you.” You dodge his eyes, lips tightly pressed together, nails slightly digging into Harry’s arm.

“Remus,” He says with a twinkle. “Call me Remus.”

“Alright.” You pause. “Remus.”

(In that moment, Remus wonders if you remember decking Lucius Malfoy in the face to defend him in your fourth year. He didn’t think he deserved to even breathe in the same air as you — the pure-blooded princess, dressed in clothing worth more than his life, adorned in jewelry he could only dream to afford, raised to believe she was better than everyone else. Then, you beat up Evan Rosier the next month in the courtyard, eyes ablaze, extravagant silk marred with grass stains and mud, and knuckles split open. You spit blood on the ground, looking at Lily then back at Rosier. “Red,” You say, kicking him one last time in the stomach, unafraid of McGonagall’s wrath growing louder and louder. “Just like everyone else. Like those Muggleborns you fear. We’ve all got dirty blood, Rosier. Suck it up.”

“I’ll tell your father about this!” Rosier bellows through bloody teeth.

“Tell him!” You grab his neck and slam your forehead against his. “Tell him that I decide my own future now!”

Remus doesn’t even have to think about it.

He falls in love.)

FUNNILY ENOUGH, IT’S LILY who gives you her heart first, before anyone else does. It’s the last month of her first year at Hogwarts — it still hasn’t quite sunk in yet that she was a witch. Her, not Petunia, but her — Lily Evans, the witch. Apparently, some people can’t believe it either. A girl from Ravenclaw calls her this foul word, she’s heard it a few times now but it always hurts the same. James and Sirius get into a fight for her honor, now faced with detention later this evening. But she can’t help but wonder, what if they were right? What if she really didn’t belong in this world? It was too good to be true, anyway. Perhaps she’ll just run a flower boutique with Petunia.

“Oi.”

The sound of your voice startles her, and she nearly topples over in the Great Lake. Lily catches sight of your Slytherin colors and resigns herself to another round of name-calling. “What do you want?”

“They’re wrong, you know,” You tell her, ignoring Lily’s question. You look down on her with your nose raised arrogantly — she wishes she could be like you. Born to be magic. “You’ve got a terrifying brain locked up in your head there, Evans. And they know it, too. They’re scared.”

Lily scoffs. “I’m just a Mudblood to them. There’s nothing to be intimidated by.”

You sneer. “Don’t say that word. You’re more than that. More than them. They’ve got long ways to go to prove they have a place in this world. But you — you’ve defied the odds and you were destined to become magic. You don’t have to prove anything. You have the right to be in the wizarding world and no one can take that away from you.”

Then, you pivot on your heels, not bothering to hear her reply. “You’re my rival now, Evans. Do keep up. We’ve got an Astronomy test tomorrow. I look forward to seeing how you do then.”

Lily just gapes. She’s certain there’s butterflies in her stomach. Her heart thumps wildly against her ribcage. Lily raises her hands to feel her blushing cheeks. There’s a light unfamiliar sensation in her stomach — like the urge to kick her legs and scream into a pillow, or more precisely, chase after you and hold your hand.

She stiffens.

Oh.

part two

#hp angst #hp fluff #hp imagine #hp x reader #james potter x reader #lily evans x reader #marauders angst #marauders fluff #marauders imagine #marauders x reader #sirius black x reader #poly!marauders x reader #poly!marauders fluff #remus lupin x reader

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sasagehoes · 2 months ago

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His Darling Snake

⋆.ೃ࿔remus lupin x fem!reader

⨾𓍢ִ໋;; Hogwarts reunion dinner brings friendships back to life, yet for many, deeper feelings come to the surface.

CONTAINS: angst, self doubt, arranged marriage, abusive parents, toxic relationships. smut, p in v, unsafe sex, fingering, breeding kink, untold feelings, bitter sweet ending, the effects of the full moon not used for its intended purposes, fwb to enemies to strangers to lovers pipeline, reader may or may not have murdered someone, Remus is whipped. no voldemort AU!!

wc: 3.7k ( this was supposed to be a oneshot..)

Remus stood in front of his mirror, tie in his hand being tied around the white collar of his shirt. Looking down on his dresser, he took the Hogwarts sealed letter, inviting him to the whatever year reunion of class of ‘78 and ‘79. It stated that every alumni could bring one person in with them to the gathering.

He sighed, putting it down, fixing his hair aided by the reflection of the mirror. He contemplated not attending but Lily and Regulus convinced him, saying that it’ll be a way for the whole gang to be together after three years of them all constantly being all over the place for work and personal reasons.

Why didn't he want to go? Simple. All of his friends one way or another had figured out their lives; Lily and James cooparent with both Regulus and Mary by their sides, Marlene and Dorcas own a successful vinyl store, and Sirius has been to more than five countries on tour in less than eight months. What has he done? Been thrown out from job to job time and time again for his condition, even from jobs he’s severely overqualified. The 90’s are just around the corner and this is still a bloody issue.

He’s happy for all his friends, he’d give his life for them but seeing them live life at their fullest makes him feel jealousy starting to bubble beneath his skin. It made him feel disgusting.

He left for the door before grabbing his cane, a constant reminder of his weary bones and worsening condition, he took the ticket that was in the envelope and left for the train station.

Once there, he started to see familiar faces, amongst them was Pandora with an adorable small version of herself in her arms “I’m so glad you decided to come Rem!” The seer beamed with joy at seeing him approach her. He gave her a warm smile and hug before acknowledging the little thing “How is the little lass?” he’d ask the giggling Luna, pinching her cheek.

While talking with Pandora and waiting for the others, they updated each other on their lives, how Xenophilius got a promotion and how her experiments were doing, the conversation was cut short when Regulus arrived with a grumpy Harry in tow and a sleepy James behind them.

“Bloody hell, Prongs you with us?” he asked the man with a chuckle, “Stayed up all night painting the mural on Harry’s room even after I told him to leave it for later” Regulus scoffed as he exchanged children with Pandora. “You really need to start listening to Reg mate” Gods, how he missed this.

A couple minutes before boarding the train, and many others had shown up, the hopes of Sirius to show up were slim to none, yet as if he was summoned he appeared, tie loose and hair disheveled, panting like a maniac as he barely made it to the train platform on time. Lily just cackled at his state and James burst out laughing like an idiot “Ladies and gentlemen the heir of House Black” Regulus said, the sarcasm pouring out. “Oh come on little brother we both know who’s getting all the dough” he hugged his brother who responded with a nasty “Someones been touring too much around America” causing the people in the booths to laugh. After he made his rounds around the four booths that were filled with friends and acquaintances, his last stop was where Remus and James sat “Last but certainly more important— wait, where's Pete?”

“The Tosser said he wanted to spend more time with his “wife”” James added with air quotation marks making Marlene’s head peek out of the booth behind them “Hey! What's so wrong about spending time with your wife” she laughed. “Nothing! Just bring her here with your mates, just saying!” James replied “You two are not even a booth apart, stop yelling!” yelled Mary

The rest of the train ride was spent with Sirius obnoxiously man spreading on the tiny booth causing him and Regulus to bicker like always, and the kids learning a few accidental curse words from their favorites aunts and uncles

“Long time no see Reggie” as voice spoke rather calmly behind the man, his eyes widened at the sight, “Been long enough” a sight that made a blood moon more common was wasted at that moment, Regulus smiled from ear to ear as he saw your face, once he stood Pandora almost squealed at the sight of you, if you were here that meant— “No calls, no letters, is this how you treat your brother?” Evan asked Pandora with a contagious grin. “Well dear brother, the phone works both ways” she smiled back “ouch”

Pulling away from the hug,Pandora looked at you with confusion, looking for someone else “Barty’s gonna be late, but he’ll get here” You smiled and went to hug her. Luna, upon hearing her beloved aunt’s voice, she ran from one booth to another and jumped in your arms. “How’s my girl?” You ask her, pulling her up into your arms “Uncle Moony is here” she said sheepishly. You turned your gaze to where she was pointing and were greeted with a smiling Remus.

To say you two ended on good terms was a straight-up lie. His last days in Hogwarts were spent either trying to pass his O.W.L.S. or having a discussion with you, the last one you had was the last time you two were ever on talking terms, this caused the group to divide like the red sea, if you found out he was going to a certain activity, you would not attend, to avoid any tension, and so did he, the only time this rule was exempt was birthday parties, especially the kids, but even so one always ended up leaving early.

“Do you not get that I don't have a say in who I marry and who I don't, right?! Your yells echoed the walls of the prefects bathroom, “I don’t know if you haven’t noticed but the 1800s ended a few fucking centuries ago!!” he screamed back.

These fights always ended in one of two ways, either one of you storming out, or you splayed across his bed with his head in between your thighs, as if that was gonna change the mind of your deranged parents to not marry you off to some creep in his fifties.

After the night of his graduation, the two of you never spoke to the other again. A simple ‘Hello’ was the most.

“You have to tell me all about your trip to the isles” Pandora pulled you away to some far away booth, scared of this becoming a battleground.

“That’s it? Are you guys ever going to have a normal conversation like the adults you two finally are?” Sirius groaned “Don’t start Sirius” Remus sighed, he hated when he would give him lectures of this eight year situation, he wanted to respect your space, as he should’ve done years ago. It's never late to do the correct thing, right?

After some time, Remus decided to walk to a far away booth, away from the kids to have a smoke, halting when he saw your body, facing away from him, just like Pandora he opted to leave the situation, but you stopped him.

“When are we going to stop behaving like children, John?” you asked in a chuckle, he decided, fuck it why not, and approached you, lighting his cigarette in the process. He sat on the booth chair, you now towering him, yet not by much, he took a hit of his cigarette, paper quickly turning to ash “How about when you start calling me by my name hm? He spoke “How is life treating you, Remus?” You complied now facing him.

“My hip’s giving out on me as if i was fifty, and cant hold a job for the life of me, so bloody fantastic i have to say” He joked, missing the whole point of making one. You frowned, letting out a dry laugh, no sentiment behind it ”I hear laws are being passed that forbid employers to fire people with lycantrophe” your eyes stared at his the crude facade chipping with each word.

“They said that four years ago dove, look what good it’s done me” you smiled fondly at the nickname. He continued, “And you, how’s life treating you” now it was his turn to burn his eyes into yours, you could only sigh, a cloud of mint scented smoke coming out of it as you slumped down the chair slightly. “Could be worse”

He was expecting to talk about that bastard, maybe even children, seeing as everyone is doing that nowadays— Gods did he like to suffer. “Have been traveling a while so that’s a plus” He hummed in response, flicking off thrash on the shrinking cigarette.

“My godmother senses are tingling Remus, i'll catch you later” you say as the cries of Luna were heard across the whole train, putting off the cig on the sole of your heel and stood to leave to go to the crying baby, before you left the booth he called out your name, “I'm glad you’re doing alright” a genuine smile adorned his face, so you gave one back.

He made it back after his third smoke and sat with his mates for the rest of the ride, locking eyes with you from time to time, making James and Sirius smirk at each other knowingly.

Finally arriving at Hogwarts everyone went to their old dorm rooms to change into more formal attire, inside the Slytherin common room sat the Rosier twins, Regulus and you, waiting for a certain someone to show up late

“Didya miss me?!!” Barty showed up by the window, riding some poor kids broom. You all laughed, and Evan almost had a heart attack. Catching up wasn't really necessary with you all since you basically lived with Evan and Barty, Regulus might as well move in, and Pandora visits every other day.

“So, do I get my fifty galleons, or do I need to keep waiting?” Bart asked, and Regulus shook his head “What bet are you tossers making now?” you asked, groaning “Nothin!” Pandora answered, eyes wide and voice high, something that even when she was young gave her away when lying.”Salazar’s beard, you all best behave today, im being serious”

The night was falling, and everyone was getting ready, Pandora wore a beautiful navy blue dress with golden decals and stitching combined with an array of golden jewelry. Evan had ironed his suit and pants for the occasion using a tie that matched his house colors but Barty om the other hand had the most wrinkly suit known to man yet he managed to pull it off, Evan tried his best to straighten his suit to no avail.

Regulus had a simple black suit with a green tie and a red boutonniere. Certainly, to match with a certain Gryffindor, once you left the restroom, they looked appalled. You were rocking a golden backless dress with golden jewelry and your hair down, “Who invited the Hufflepuff to our dorm?” Evan asked Regulus with an insulted look on his face, he only shrugged and you could only laugh “Who said it had to be your house color” They looked at you as if an unforgivable curse was casted.

“Here at least wear these” Regulus gave you two golden snake arm cuffs “Had a feeling you'd disgrace Salazar and brought the cuffs you left home”

You placed them around your arms and they slithered into a more comfortable position.

“You guys are twats” you say once more seeing their faux disappointment on their faces.

You all walked to the dining hall where the celebration dinner would take place, and as the wooden doors opened the place looked very different. The tables were not placed how they were normally displayed, now there were multiple tables and chairs to accommodate all the past alumni. No housing separation.

Lily came up to the lot of you and she looked marvelous, she wore a emerald green dress that hugged her curves in ways that would have anyone dropping to their knees “See!, she's wearing green and she's not being egged and stoned around the corner” you whined “you look amazing lovie” You said all in one breath.

“She gets a pass, she actually looks good” Regulus said with an obnoxious grin, Barty and you gasped at the same time but only he spoke “Don't listen to him treasure, you look ravishing” he said seductively rolling his r's

“Yeah Reggie, play nice” Lily giggled "You look stunning dear!, but I have to steal her from you guys for a minute, Marlene will cry soon” she spoke to your friends not before throwing them a wink as you unknowingly kept walking.

You soon were at the marauders (or what was left of them) designated table, you looked around trying to spot Marlene but she was nowhere to be seen. James gasped at your dress “Stunning, I might have to steal you from Barty from time to time” he joked

“Keep dreaming, lover boy,” whispered Barty, who was walking behind him. Making James shiver.

Lily stood beside you, a hand on your shoulder, “James, Reg is looking for you, love, it's rather urgent” she emphasized urgent and he seemed to get the hint.

He excused himself and Lily was soon to speak “Oh my!, Let me go fetch Marls, she was here minutes ago” without giving you time to respond she left. Leaving you alone, you were left thinking why all your friends were so strange this evening, but once you saw Remus walking up to your table, leaving a smirking Sirius on the balcony it dawned on you. Were they really doing this again?

“Sirius told me you wanted to see me” he approached you, wearing a brown blazer, worn down by the years with a red tie under, “I don't know what to say lovie, but i think our dear friends are setting us up..again” you reply with your hand now holding your head, you unknowingly gave him those half lidded eyes that made him go crazy, he looked away and adjusted his tie. He was never one to shy away from women’s flirtatious antics but with your methods he was but a victim.

“I had a feeling, I'll go talk with the tosser” he went to leave but you grabbed his arm making him stop in his tracks “Let’s just talk, maybe that will make them stop” You both knew it wouldn't end until you two got back together, but talking with an old friend never hurt anyone.

It went rather well, the talk went in more depth then what you two had talked in the train, out in the balcony the talking resumed, accompanied by smoke in your lungs and liquor in his bloodstream, he built up the courage to ask you something that Sirius mentioned recently. Your missing wedding ring.

“Is everything going well with what was his name?— Dominique?” you let out the most unflattering laugh and he stood there thinking he had been way off with the name “Let’s just say it didn't last past the honeymoon” you took a chug of his flask trying not to reminisce the events of that dreadful night.

“What happened” he said taking the flask from your hands to grab some as well “He passed” you put simply, his jaw went slack “Wh- are you alright? How?!" all the questions seemed to escape him at once.

You leaned in to whisper in his ear “I don't kiss and tell, Moony” and briefly kissed his cheek. Before he could even process what was happening the booming voice of the headmaster reached his ears, telling everyone to take a seat for the grand speech.

So now both of you sat multiple tables away as the effects of the upcoming full moon take a toll on the poor Remus, now tripled in intensity by your touch. Unknowingly he bore his eyes to your body, the canine side of him going feral just at the thought of having you once again. You pretended not to notice but you could feel his gaze. Oh and you knew the effect that kiss, innocent as it could've seem, took a toll on him

You knew that look on his face. Hunger. Not just any type of hunger, he looked insatiable. Anyone would think that he was mad, because of the intense glare, but you knew him well enough.

You had seen it multiple times throughout your days in Hogwarts, days before the full moon he became engulfed in a primal like feeling, never getting enough of you until he filled you up to the brim.

You shifted in your seat and he seemed to get self conscious of his leering and looked away, having had enough of this awkward back and forth you took your glass of champagne and the one next to yours.

As soon as Dumbledore stopped his grand speech of nonsense you walked over to him, leaning in so close you were almost on his lap, “I dont scare easy big guy, stop staring and do something about it” you whispered in his ear. He closed his eyes to relish in your sent before snaking his arm around your waist “Dove, don't do this to me” he groaned, his pants getting impossibly tighter “Moony, I've missed you so much, I need you”

Gods bless alcohol because if it wasn't for that, you would've never gotten here.

How did you exit the dining hall without being noticed? You didn't know, maybe people did notice but you couldn't care now.

Now that Remus had you pinned against the wall of some classroom kissing every part of your body that was exposed fervently. His cane and aching bones now long forgotten. He went to take his jacket off but before he even had a chance to take it fully off you were pulling him by the belt, “hands off leannan” he groaned, putting your hands away and taking matters into his own.

His shirt was off in a heartbeat and he was to attack your lips, sliding off the straps of the dress in the process, you deepened the kiss, gripping his hair to bring him closer. He groans at the closeness he has yearned for years.

Remus picked you up with ease, still devouring you to his heart's content and settled you on the professor's desk. Your dress now discarded on the floor, his lips traveled down the path that your body led,leaving goosebumps in its wake,making you sigh in pleasure, he knelt down on the floor and made eye contact with you before more or less groaning “Port láimhe nó port béil?” Oh how his words made you feel, you arched your back against the desk whispering a low “Your mouth” accompanied by a moan. Wasting no time he spread open your thighs and started lapping at your core like a man starved.

You gripped his hair with such force causing him to groan, his fingers were quick to enter the scene, starting with just one that had you feeling so full, “Tá tú chomh tais” he groaned, his mouth still on your cunt. Slowly a second finger was introduced making you gasp, he moved his middle and pointer finger in a scissoring motion all while sucking on your pulsing nub “Too much, fuck!” the chuckle that left his throat being the last straw to have you shaking under him, walls clenching on his finger, so close to sweet release before he stopped.

You whined, tears threatening to spill, he hushed you by standing up, and placing his slick covered fingers inside your mouth. “Want to feel you cum around me dove” he whispered in a gruff tone. He undid his belt with his free hand , ridding himself of his garments. He stroked himself a couple times before aligning himself with your entrance. Your slick was enough for him to slide inside you, you felt so full you it made you whimper, he wasn't doing too well either, overwhelmed by the tightness of your cunt, your scent, and the sheen coat of mixed slick that decorated so prettily the base of his cock, he knew he wasn't going to last long.

He grabbed your hips with such vigour that they were sure to be bruised the next morning, his thrusts were becoming more erratic and shallow as his moans and whimpers matched yours, he bent over to engulf your lips with his in such a passionate manner that contrasted his sudden harsh thrusts, he swallowed any moans you gave to him with such greed that would leave Plutus astonished. He left your lips swollen and bruised, glossy with a mixture of your combined spit, “Please Remus, i cant hold it anymore” you moaned, nails digging in his biceps, “Just a little more Dove, yeah?” you could only nod not trusting your voice with words, “Atta girl” he grinned, sheathing himself deeper,if that was even possible. Few more thrusts had him cursing in his mothers tongue “Let go for me love, c’mon” he said, voice hoarse. Remus swore he would cry at the way your cunt tightened against him, before the knot on your lower abdomen burst, causing you to moan in pleasure, “So, so pretty like this,” he muttered as he himself came undone over your shaking body.

You both laid on the floor of the classroom, basking in the light of the moon that came through the huge glass windows, naked bodies entangled in a warm embrace, slightly covered by Remus’s blazer, he turned around to give his poor hip a break and you took the opportunity to trace the marks you had created, making him forget about the ones that caused him pain and instead relish in the ones that were caused by love”

Suddenly remembering something, he turned back around, smug smile adorning his features “You remembered what it meant didn't ya?” he chuckled and you could only roll your eyes “How could I not” As the laughter died down you both stared lovingly into each other's eyes. “I have some empty property around my house if you know..you need a safe place for the full moon” you ask sheepishly. Remus only smiled, kissing your lips tenderly “I’d love that dove”

Maybe all the two of you needed was a well deserved push.

Bonus: Morning came and it was time to leave the classroom before anyone noticed what you two were getting up to last night. Opening the doors to leave, clothes all wrinkled and put on in a hurry, you were quick to halt as you saw Barty smirking at a leaning Evan while he gave him his well deserved fifty galleons “Told you id get them tonight” he winked your way. And not far away from this betting mess was an absolutely hammered James yelling “Atta boy!!” from across the hall.

What a reunion.

Tá tú chomh tais- you are so wet

Port láimhe nó port béil- tune with my hands or my mouth?

This is my first time writing smut so i hope i did ok, I hope you enjoyed this, i was just testing the water seeing if this was for me but i dont know what to think just yet..

⭒๋࣭ ⭑ DO NOT;; RE-UPLOAD, TRANSLATE NOR COPY MY WORKS!! This belongs to;; -SASAGEHOES

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batransacon · 3 months ago

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I remember seeing so many “Harry potters blood must be liquid luck” jokes but I’m being so fr I actually would love that as a fanfic. Idk like Voldemort finding out his nemesis is LITERALLY made of luck?? He has golden blood?? (Vampire Voldemort maybe ?? 👀) he kidnaps him and keeps Harry locked away (lowkey like repunzal au ngl) and just drinks from him when he needs luck or smthn idk but he keeps Harry taken care of (like pampered) and Harry being the abused child he is just accepts it cus even if Voldemort doesn’t love him like a father (or maybe he does 😃) (creepy old bastard) atleast he takes care of him and Harry can be useful. Also he doesn’t have to die anymore so that’s a plus 🤷 but the liquid luck blood leads to more physical effects besides just the color of his blood. Like he’s unnaturally good at predicting things (he becomes one of Voldemorts generals maybe?) and just seems to always know what to do. Also due to these effects he doesn’t try and run (besides maybe at first) bc nothings telling him he has to, like his mind is perfectly content being Voldemorts arm candy and general and if he has more luck staying then why try and leave?? Anyways they eventually fall in love and rule Great Britain (and maybe the world but like as a shadow government type deal) as a power couple 😘 (also I hc that Harry came to be with Voldemort right around Hogwarts letter time bc that’s when he would’ve been most susceptible and mold able)

Someone please write this 🙏

#tomarrymort #harrymort #ao3 #harry potter #tomarry #headcanon #fic ideas #someone pls write this #maybe there is recs??#lord voldemort #voldemort #tom riddle #snake face Voldemort #if u write this pls don’t make it tomarry i wish for harrymort 🥹

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keepmycandleburning · 28 days ago

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Perhaps the most common misconception about Voldemort is that he only got his snakelike red-eyed appearance after his resurrection. I get why people may assume this (an unfounded assumption typically based on the fact that snake venom was used, and that he was made in a cauldron, and the misunderstanding that Wormtail was an unskilled sorcerer), but there’s lots of evidence that he already looked like that in 1981, and nothing in canon implies his appearance was changed by the rebirthing potion.

In the graveyard, Voldemort calls gaining his current body getting his 'old body back’:

Note that the body creation potion is a pre-existing piece of old magic that Voldemort already knew about. He knew that to get his old body back, he would need to use this ancient potion with the three powerful ingredients. This is not magic he invented himself. Snake venom is not an ingredient in his rebirthing potion, but only an ingredient (along with unicorn blood) in the potion he was drinking while in the rudimentary body. He is not 'made of' snake venom any more than he's made of unicorn blood.

He tells a pretty thorough story of the last 13 years to the DEs, and never implies he looks different and explains why. If he did look different, he likely would have included that in his several pages of explanations of what had happened to him.

This happens right after he summons his DEs to the graveyard and they immediately recognize him—in the dark, from a distance so far away that they have to walk toward him and then crawl the rest of the way.

Fudge and other Ministry workers also immediately recognize him the following year. Harry did publish an interview describing him, but Fudge doesn't trust Harry at that point, or isn't claiming to anyway. The only thing that convinces Fudge is seeing a person he personally believes to be Voldemort with his own eyes. This is a person Fudge recognizes beyond doubt:

In Sorcerer's Stone, Voldemort's face is described:

He already has the white skin, the red eyes, and the slit nostrils years before the snake venom drinking and the rebirthing potion. They did not appear for the first time after he stepped out of the cauldron.

On Halloween 1981, we know two things about his appearance: that his hand is white, and that his face is so terrifying it makes a child run away.

We also know that James recognizes Voldemort immediately. I don't think his face itself would've been well-known, as there aren't any instances in the Second War of Voldemort being photographed, or images of him being published in the paper or hung up with the Azkaban escapees' portraits (only the verbal description in the Quibbler article). It seems more likely that what makes him so recognizable is that he has very unique features.

We know for a fact that by the late 1960s (ish?), Voldemort was no longer the handsome Tom Riddle. He was described like this at his interview with Dumbledore:

Notice the similarities to his appearance in SS & GoF: the white skin, the partially red eyes (the whites & flashing red multiple times), the slitlike nostrils. He seems to be partway through a transformation between the handsome human form of his youth and the snakelike form of his middle age. Harry says Voldemort's features here are not yet 'as' snakelike, which implies they are reminiscent of it, just not fully identical. I see no other possible explanation for Voldemort having somewhat snakelike features and slitlike nostrils and reddening eyes in ~1968, besides him slowly undergoing a visual transformation into the appearance we know. (Well, it could either happen very gradually or it could happen in distinct stages after each Horcrux creation, based on Dumbledore's info in HBP that the Horcruxes are what caused the appearance changes. Either way, it happened over many years.)

(A decade earlier in the Hepzibah Smith memory, Voldemort looks quite normal and like his younger self other than his eyes sometimes flashing red.)

There are around 13 years between this interview and Halloween 1981—years in which we must assume Voldemort's appearance continues changing along the lines it's already changing in 1968 and into the face we know from SS & GoF. Not only does 1968 Voldemort seem well on the way to his canon-era face, I just don't see another explanation for why he would have this face in 1992 if he did not in 1981.

What did Voldemort look like when he killed the Potters? Exactly like he did when he stepped out of the cauldron. Any claims otherwise are headcanons based on conjectures of the effects of the snake venom and the rebirthing process that are not supported by the text.

At no point in the First War was Voldemort handsome in the way he was in his youth. This means that anyone that Voldemort only met after his presumable return to Britain in the late 60s (such as perhaps Bellatrix) never knew him by his old face, only by some version of his new one.

#voldemort birthday posting #voldemort #my thoughts on voldemort #voldemort meta #harry potter meta #lord voldemort #tom riddle #harry potter

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weasleyreidstyles · 21 days ago

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Serendipity

chapter nineteen

summary: it was only meant to be a purely transactional relationship. he would help her strengthen her abilities in return for her getting his friends out of his father's nasty path. he didn't mean to fall for her, but loving her was the easiest thing in his dark world.

no use of y/n, but your general nickname is Meadow. all characters are aged up to be over 18.

pairings: mattheo riddle x fem!ravenclaw reader; platonic!slytherins x fem!reader; platonic!golden trio x fem!reader

warning(s): book accurate voldemort, canonical violence, angst, talks of battle, notions of manipulation and mind control

series masterlist; previous part; next part

The days following Charity Burbage's death were agonising. The atmosphere in the cottage had grown cold and dreary; the novety of living away from home having worn away with every mission that Mattheo, Theo and Enzo were sent on. They did not speak a word of what happened in the meeting beyond when Remus and Mad-Eye had come to collect information only hours after the boys had returned home.

Before the inevitable event of Professor Burbage's death, Voldemort's men had divulged their fellow Death Eater and Dark Lord of vital information that they could use to undermine The Order of The Pheonix. There were spies everywhere, just as Mattheo had told Granger back at school before Dumbledore's death.

It was still sureal that his Head of House was sat in this room with him, despite knowing since fifth year that Snape was not a loyal member of The Order. To hear him discussing a plan that only top members, like Lupin or Shacklebolt, would know, was as strange as it was unnerving. His father sat at the head of the table, the seat to the right of him empty, hairless and snakelike with slits for nostils and gleaming red eyes. His chosen appearance was nightmare fuel and nothing akin to the very few photos that Mattheo had of him, when he was still Tom Riddle, still had some of his soul intact. As far as Mattheo was concerned, this creature before him was not his father, but simply a vessel of power that Mattheo would have to overcome. Somehow.

"Severus, here," said the Dark Lord, his elongated hands gesturing to Mattheo's other side. He sent Yaxley to sit beside Dolohov, who still sported the scars inflicted by your magic. It sent pride shooting through Mattheo's veins. Most eyes at the table followed Snape until he sat, and he was who Voldemort addressed first.

"The Order of The Pheonix intends to move Potter from his current place of safety on Saturday, at nightfall." Snape said in his usual low cadence.

Confusion shot through Mattheo at that and he visibly stiffened before fixing his mask of indifference right back into place. Despite feeding information to The Order, everyone in the cottage, even you, were not privvy to the schemes that its members carried out in response. He had no idea that Harry's location would be compromised. Did that mean that your's could be too?

He didn't let that thought linger for any longer than necessary.

"Saturday. At nightfall." Voldemort's eyes fastened on Snape with such an intensity that Mattheo was surprised when his Professor did not cower away like so many others would. He looked Death calmly in the face, and Voldemort's lip curled into something resembling a smile. "Good. And this information comes-"

"-From the source we discussed." Snape replied. This seemed to satisfy Voldemort who's snake like features swept over everyone in the room with a sinister, knowing look, zeroing in on Yaxley, who looked about ready to burst.

"My Lord." He stuttered. "My Lord. I have heard differently."

The Dark Lord did not respond.

"Dawlish, the Auror, let slip that Potter will not be moved until the thirtieth, the night before the boy's birthday. When his magic becomes traceable."

Mattheo looked beside him saw that Severus Snape was smiling as he responded with a level tone.

"My source told me that there are plans to lay a false trail; this must be it. Dawlish is suspectible. He was probably placed under a Confundus Charm."

Yaxley's eyes narrowed upon Snape's. "I assure you, My Lord, Dawlish seemed quite certain."

The Dark Lord finally turned to acknowledge his son, who was stood off to the side, eyes raking across each member with cruel scrutiny. He motioned for Mattheo to come forward. "What do you think, my son?"

Mattheo studied the faces of his father, Snape and Yaxley, rationalising his thoughts before speaking.

"If Dawlish was indeeded Confunded, naturally he would be certain." Mattheo summised. "The Order would be smart to give the Ministry different dates. They must already suspect that we have infiltrated the Ministry."

"The Auror Office will play no further part in the protection of Harry Potter. I assure you, Yaxley." Snape said with a nod.

Voldemort did not ackowledge the conversation, instead his gaze had wandered upward to the body that had appeared during the discussion, revolving slowly overhead, and he seemed to be lost in thought.

"My Lord," Yaxley went on, "Dawlish believes an entire party of Aurors will be used to transfer the boy–"

He held up a large white hand, and Yaxley subsided at once, watching resentfully as Voldemort turned back to Snape.

“Where are they going to hide the boy next?”

“At the home of one of the Order members,” he replied. “The place, according to the source, has been given every protection that the Order and Ministry together could provide. I think that there is little chance of taking him once he is there, my Lord, unless, of course, the Ministry has fallen before next Saturday, which might give us the opportunity to discover and undo enough of the enchantments to break through the rest.”

“Well, Yaxley?” Voldemort called down the table, the firelight casting a menacing glint in his red eyes. “Will the Ministry have fallen by next Saturday?”

Yaxley squared his shoulders. “My Lord, I have good news on that score. I have – with difficulty, and after great effort – succeeded in placing an Imperius Curse upon Pius Thicknesse.”

Theo sucked in a barely discernable breath, and from his place, Mattheo saw how Draco tensed beside his mother. This was all vital information that Remus would be desperate for.

“It is a start,” said Voldemort. “But Thicknesse is only one man. Scrimgeour must be surrounded by our people before I act. One failed attempt on the Minister's life will set me back a long way.”

“Yes, my Lord, that is true – but you know, as Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, Thicknesse has regular contact not only with the Minister himself, but also with the Heads of all the other Ministry departments. It will, I think, be easy now that we have such a high-ranking official under our control, to subjugate the others, and then they can all work together to bring Scrimgeour down.”

“As long as our friend Thicknesse is not discovered before he has converted the rest,” said Voldemort. “At any rate, it remains unlikely that the Ministry will be mine before next Saturday. If we cannot touch the boy at his destination, then it must be done while he travels.”

“We are at an advantage there, my Lord,” said Yaxley, who seemed determined to receive some portion of approval. It made Mattheo scoff inwardly. No one gained the approval of Voldemort. Not even his only living heir.

“We now have several people planted within the Department of Magical Transport. If Potter Apparates or uses the Floo Network, we shall know immediately.”

“He will not do either,” Snape interupted with a barely hidden sneer. “The Order is eschewing any form of transport that is controlled or regulated by the Ministry; they mistrust everything to do with the place.”

“All the better,” said Voldemort. “He will have to move in the open. Easier to take, by far.”

Again, Voldemort looked up at the slowly revolving body as he went on, “I shall attend to the boy in person. There have been too many mistakes where Harry Potter is concerned. Some of them have been my own. That Potter lives is due more to my errors than to his triumphs.”

The Death Eaters around the table watched Voldemort apprehensively, each of them, by his or her expression, afraid that they might be blamed for Harry Potter's continued existence. Voldemort, however, seemed to be speaking more to himself than to any of them, still addressing the unconscious body above him.

“I have been careless, and so have been thwarted by luck and chance, those wreckers of all but the best-laid plans. But I know better now. I understand those things that I did not understand before. I must be the one to kill Harry Potter, and I shall be.”

He moved his hand in a barely there motion and the body broke free of its invisible bonds, hanging precariously over the dinner table.

“My loyal followers," he says with a sadistic grin, his arms outstretched. "I have a special treat for you all. A little...goft of sorts. Do you recognise our guest Severus? Mattheo?"

Mattheo raised his eyes to the upside down face. All of the Death Eaters were looking up at the captive now, as though they had been given permission to show curiosity. As she revolved to face the firelight, the woman said in a cracked and terrified voice, “Severus! Help me!”

It was her. The one they were tasked with finding. It was Charity Burbage.

Remus had staggered back when Mattheo finished telling them as much as he could without keeling over from the pain. But the message was clear: the mission to get Harry to Headquarters safely had been thwarted in more ways than they had anticipated; there was evidently a spy in their ranks and Remus couldn't help but think back bitterly to the first time around, his mind filled with the constant 'what ifs' that haunted him with every second that passed without Sirius by his side.

"We need to go forward with the back up plan." Mad Eye said gruffly, his mechanical eye sending shivers down your spine as it zeroed in on you. Mattheo's eyes narrowed, his hand, which rested on your thigh under the table, tightened with anticipation.

"I was under the impression that confusing the dates was the so-called back up plan for whatever it is you lot are scheming." He says, voice low from the excersion of fighting the Dark Mark plastered on his left arm, its curse prowling through his bloodstream like a viper waiting to strike.

"Meadow will be joining us on the mission." Made Eye says, choosing to ignore the seething heir sat opposite him.

Mattheo slams his fist on the table, before he points his finger angrily towards the Auror. "Like hell she is! You heard what I said. They plan to ambush you. She will not be put in harm's way."

"Her power is vital to us. We need her to protect Harry." Mad Eye argues back with equal ferosity, ignoring the way the others around the table watch with wide eys.

"No." Mattheo says with so much finality and malice, making the veins in his neck bulge and the fury in his eyes to ignite. You can feel his anger in your core, and you know nothing will calm him until he gets what he wants.

You make eye contact with Remus, who sits uncomfortably beside his comrade, and drown out the hurls of insults flying out of your boyfriend's mouth as you speak to him.

What will I have to do, if I agree? You ask, brows furrowed with nerves.

You would follow along with the rest of us, disguised as Harry using polyjuice potion. You and six others, so we can confuse the Death Eaters away from the real Harry. Remus tells you and you nod your head in acknowledgment; only Pansy is the one to notice the exchange amongst the shouting match that had transpired between Mattheo and Mad Eye Moody.

"What would Meadow have to do?" she asks, ignoring the way Mattheo's stare cuts through her like a knife. "No one can know that she's the siphon, so how will you protect her while protecting Potter?"

"She won't need protecting because she's not going anywhere." Mattheo seethes at his friend, who merely rolls her eyes at him.

"She is her own person Mattheo. Let Meadow decide for herself." Pansy snaps back, causing Mattheo to pause and turn to you.

You're sat silently, eyes focused only on Remus as he explains the plan in great detail to you. He admires you for a brief moment, drinking in the slope of your nose, the rosiness of your cheeks and the way your lips part in concentration. Mattheo's hand resting gently on your shoulder knocks your focus from your old professor.

"I'll do it." You say, your tone dripping with a certainty that would not be shaken. Mattheo bristles in his place. "Under one condition."

"Anything, Meadow." Remus says softly, his scarred face alight with gratitude.

"Harry cannot know." You say and hold up a hand when Remus tries to interrupt. "He can't. He doesn't trust me. If he sees me there's a high probability that he refuses to leave the Dursleys' home."

"How do you suggest we go about it then?" Mad Eye asks with a frustrated grunt.

"The final safehouse, between Surrey and the Burrow is Headquarters." You say, ignoring the looks from your friends. "The Death Eaters will no doubt suspect that so send me there. Don't send me to the Burrow."

"It's doable." Remus muses with a thoughtful expression.

"There are things in Grimmauld Place that Harry will need. I'll retrieve them for you to give to him at the wedding." you say, brushing your hands off of your trousers before moving to stand.

"You'll be at the wedding, Meadow." Remus says, but the way he's looking at you says he understands your hesitation.

After a moment of silence, Mad Eye is the one to speak.

"Then it's settled. Welcome to your first official induction into the Order Miss Meadow."

~∞~

surprise!!!!! im back baby!!!

a short and (not so?) sweet chapter for you lovely people! im so sorry ive left the story for so long but its a new year, and i have new aspirations that include actually finishing my works (😵‍💫) so more chapters to come!!

fair warning: we're entering deathly hallows territory so its gonna be angst central!!!!!

ive missed matty and meadow so much but i can't wait to do their story justice and im sorry this one was so short but honestly im enjoying building any and all suspense soooo....

taglist:

(striked out users are ones that i couldn't tag)

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#serendipity series #slytherin boys #harry potter #mattheo riddle angst #mattheo riddle x reader #mattheo riddle x you #mattheo riddle #mattheo x you

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