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comfortwriting · 4 years ago

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A Triwizard Baby Part 1 - F.W

Masterlist, Requesting Rules, Writing Prompt Masterlist,Taglist

Part 1 Fred Weasley x Fem Reader mini series

Requested/About: Best friends, Y/N and Fred Weasley share a night of passion together during the Triwizard Tournament, after that, everything changes and Fred can’t figure out why until the night of the final task. Y/N has the world on her shoulders, and Fred slowly finds himself losing everyone around him.

Want to be tagged? Let me know!

A/N: the ages/school year has been adjusted so everything is legal.

Warnings: Swearing, alcohol, intoxication, drunk and unprotected sex, losing virginity.

It all started when the more outspoken, confident twin crashed into you on the Hogwarts Express in your first year at Hogwarts. Sure, you were upset, embarrassed, and annoyed, but when you looked up and realised who had swept you off your feet, you knew it wasn’t your brain messing with you - from that moment you had fallen for him; Fred Weasley.

After your first train ride, classes, and many more along the way, over the years, you and Fred became best friends, going through thick and thin together, sharing the worlds loudest laughs, best pranks, and even the biggest tears. Your tiny crush on him blossomed into something much more, a love that couldn’t stop growing and spread out of control, but you were sure that Fred didn’t feel the same, and as you became older, reaching the end of your years in the education system, Fred discovered other girls and sex, whilst you drowned yourself in the life of parties and bottles of fire whiskey.

Fred loves the parties, he loves fire whiskey too, but he loves the other girls and the sex in a different way because they feed his ego, and it helped take his mind off you and the fact he didn’t have the guts to pursue you.

You were labelled as the party-girl which every girl wanted to be and wouldn’t challenge to a drinking game if their gold was on the table, and Fred gained the title as the play-boy, who made every lad jealous and watch in envy as he never got rejected and could flirt with any girl he wanted.

You had to hear the stories of your best friend fucking your classmates, and how much they loved it, praising him and gossiping about how skilled he was with his fingers, tongue, and cock. You were jealous, and you didn’t want to admit it, but you couldn't invent your sex life to reach Fred’s rank - you had never had sex - you were a virgin through and through.

Sitting next to Fred on the edge of his bed in the hospital wing you shook your head, laughing at the state of him and his twin, George.

“I’ve got to say, you’ve got a magnificent beard.” You laughed, the sight of George being an old man funnier than you expected.

Fred smirked despite still being pissed off with George “I never knew you were into older men” he winked.

“Well, you never asked.”

George groaned out “get a bloody room, the pair of you!”

You rolled your eyes at him and pulled Fred’s pillow from under his head, causing him to slump down, you bashed George with his pillow, sticking your tongue out at him and pulling a face.

“Y/N, don’t encourage them!” Madame Pomfrey hurried over, retrieving Fred’s pillow “Out! Out!” she shooed you.

Standing up and put your hands up in defence “Alright! I’m going!”

Fred’s smirk turned into a grin, “Watch the first task with us?” he asked.

You nodded “with pleasure, I heard Bill is going to be there.”

And you weren’t wrong, the first task came within the blink of an eye, you were honoured to meet Bill in passing - more like a “Hello!” with an awkward wave, followed by “Goodbye!” and another awkward wave, but the dragons fascinated you, and Fred spent the majority of the task watching you instead of the Hungarian Horntail, Swedish Short-Snout, Chinese Fireball, and the Common Welsh Green. George had to keep reminding Fred that their money and future business was on the line.

During the celebration party as it got later in the evening, you and everyone else surrounded Harry, clapping and cheering as he lifted the golden egg infant of him, parading it around, all of you watching and waiting eagerly, encouraging him to open it in hopes that it could liven up the party - giving everyone an excuse to stay up late and continue drinking.

Fred and George lifted Harry up, propping his legs on either of their shoulders, their arms strapping him in so he was above the large and busy crowd.

“Knew you wouldn’t die, Harry.”

“Lose a leg.”

“Or an arm.”

“Pack it in altogether.”

“Never!”

Fred and George stopped heaving Harry into the air, Seamus begging for a clue, you stared at Fred, your eyes getting lost in the strands of his long golden hair, but you weren’t the only one - the girls behind you were fixating on him, whispering about his good looks and height.

You zoned out completely, the same jealousy and bitterness spreading through your veins, you had to talk to him, tell him you loved him, but how?

Harry opened the egg, bright light of gold broke out followed by loud screeching, breaking you out of your toxic train of thoughts, Fred and George dropping Harry and flinching like you and everyone else, covering your ears and begging Harry to shut it up.

“What the bloody hell was that?” Ron interrupted.

Fred huffed and shook his head “As if this party couldn’t get any worse.” he turned around and tried to flee to his dorm room, calling it a night and encouraging everyone to get to bed.

The two girls behind you who were salivating over Fred pushed past you and called him over, blushing and batting their eyelashes at him.

“We’re throwing a party of our own” she eyed him up as if he was something to eat “tonight doesn’t have to end on a downer.”

Her plan worked, instantly gaining Fred’s attention, he grinned and nodded “Wicked, can I bring someone along?”

“George is already invited” her friend replied, smirking at George.

“Can I bring someone else too, though?” Fred asked.

The girls exchanged looks with one another cautiously, but they didn’t want to let him down or uninterested him, “Of course! Who?”

Probably his friend Lee or some girl he’s fucking.

“Y/N!” Fred called out, smiling at you “You want to join this party with me?”

The girls glared at one another, muttering and swearing under their breaths to one another.

This is your moment, Y/N, don’t mess this up, shoot your shot.

“Yeah!” You smiled back, feeling honoured and slightly shocked “Yeah, sure!”

Once everyone had cleared off, you and your new group sneaked out of the common room and into Moaning Myrtle's territory, all the professors were either partying or fast asleep, even Mr Filch and Mrs Norris grudgingly had the night off.

The dark and grubby bathroom spun around whilst you got onto your knees, the cold tile floor making you shudder when coming into contact with your warm legs. The two girls smirked and sat down too, the shorter one pulling Fred to sit down next to her, her hand continuously placing itself on his knee, ticking you off.

“Well, since Y/N decided to drink her feelings, we’ve got an empty bottle and we could do with a game to lighten up the mood.” The shorter girl spoke out, causing Fred to give her a dirty look for calling you out.

“What is it then?” George asked “Pretty shit place for a party.”

“Careful” you hiccoughed “Don’t want to make Mrytle cry.”

“We’ve decided truth or dare, but with spinning the bottle. Whoever it lands on has to answer a truth, or accept a dare from the spinner.”

You rolled your eyes “Seems very... tween like of you.”

Fred laughed.

“You weren’t invited, so feel free to leave if this party isn’t good enough for you.”

You ignored her and played along anyway.

“George” she squealed “Truth or dare?”

George hesitated for a moment “Truth”

“Does Fred keep you up at night with all the girls he brings back?”

After what felt like an eternity, the bottle finally landed back and George, and he spun the bottle, causing it to land on you.

“Y/N, truth or dare?”

I swear if you ask me anything stupid -

“D-dare.” you hiccoughed again, trying to act bigger than your boots.

George stared at the two desperate girls and looked back at you “I dare you to snog my brother.”

Okay, I really wish I went for truth, what was I thinking? Bloody hell!

“Okay then” you replied nervously, crawling in the middle of the circle, Fred crawling over to you, a glint of mischief in his eyes.

Fred’s warm, large, gentle hands cupped your face, leaning in, his lips pressed against yours shocking both of you as if a spark had ignited, whilst you kissed back, your hands tangled in his long golden hair and the two of you were suddenly hit with the realisation of how in love with one another you actually were.

More students had caught wind of the lame party and livened it up, playing music and brightening the bathroom up with colourful moving lights, bringing more fire whiskey and encouraging everyone to dance.

Everyone around you watched as you and Fred continued to snog, his tongue dancing with yours, his cock starting to support a semi, everyone cheered aside from the two girls who felt as if they had shot themselves in the foot.

“Okay!” the girl called out again, trying to pull Fred away “Times up!”

but he didn’t want to stop, and neither did you, the memories you shared playing out in front of you.

“I’m sorry for crashing into you” he frowned, sitting next to you on the train “is your head alright? I can try and make the bruising go away.”

You couldn’t stay mad at him, you chuckled and shook your head “It’s okay but thank you for offering” you smiled.

His twin brother entered the carriage, “Fred-” he stared at you “what’s happened to you?”

“I wish you were coming with us” Fred sighed, grumbling to himself.

“Oh don’t be silly, you’re going on holiday!” you beamed “just make sure you take plenty of pictures, I’ve heard Egypt is lovely!”

“I’ll write to you and I’ll send the photos through the owl post if I’ve got enough time.”

“We’re supposed to be studying for our O.W.Ls!” you hissed at Fred, hiding your answers from him as he continued to make your stationary levitate and drop onto your head.

“Please take part in this prank, Y/N” he begged “I promise I won’t ask for anything ever again.”

“But you always do, Freddie!”

He stared at you, pouting and making puppy eyes.

“Fine” you sighed, giving in “Let’s go and do it then.”

Fred punched the air and grabbed you by the hand, pulling you away from your desk, the two of you smirking and giggling with excitement.

“I didn’t realise it would be this cold” you shivered, standing outside of Honey Dukes, snow falling from the sky and sticking to the pavement.

Fred pulled off his knitted jumper “Put this on love, don’t want you freezing now do we?”

The memories snapped away as Fred fell back, his arm in the girl's hand, you were desperate for more and opened your eyes, frowning that he had been dragged away for a dance with her, you watched as she wrapped her arms around his neck and his hands rested on her waist.

Getting off your now red cold knees and standing up, you downed some more fire whiskey from the first bottle you laid eyes on and decided to copy Fred - dancing with anyone who wanted you - grinding against them, having them hold you close and breathing down your neck, you had to admit, for someone who had never done this before, you were doing a pretty good job, almost as if you had done it before.

Fred couldn’t get you, the kiss, the feeling of your lips, tongue, and the replay of memories out of his head. Breaking away from the girl, he approached you as you pulled away from the tall Hufflepuff lad, finally reuniting with the love of your life. Almost instantly, Fred’s lips collided with yours, your hands back to being tangled in his hair and his hand squeezing your behind teasingly, alcohol on your breath and his.

“I want you.” you breathed, pulling away from the kiss “I want you to fuck me like you do everyone else.”

“I want you too” Fred replied, taking your hand and fleeing from the party.

After what seemed like a marathon, you finally burst into Fred’s empty dorm room, he shut the door behind him and locked it before kissing you passionately, lowering you onto the bed and taking your clothes off.

This was it, the moment you were craving for years on end, this was it, this was how you would be losing your virginity, this would be giving yourself to your best friend entirely.

But Fred had no idea that it was your first time, in his head, you were having just as much sex as him.

Fred couldn’t get over the sight of your naked body, your breasts, your tummy, your bum, your inner thighs, your exquisite crotch - you were the definition of perfect, he had forgotten about every girl he had ever seen naked at the sight of you, you were making him feel as if this was his first time all over again.

Fred sucked on your nipples whilst he stimulated your clit with his fingers, warming you up, the sensation of his warm tongue and mouth sent shivers of pleasure down your spine, and as nervous as you were, you couldn’t stop yourself from moaning as he played with your touch starved clit.

“Are you ready, Y/N?” Fred asked, pulling away from your breasts.

“Yes,” you breathed out, slurring slightly “I’m ready Freddie.”

Fred’s head, like yours, was also spinning. He stumbled and reached for the lube, applying it onto his length and then across your tight hole. Fred felt as if he had forgotten something, but the more he wracked his own brain, the more he couldn’t remember what he needed. He laid you on your back and climbed on top, lining himself against your entrance.

Looking at you one last time to make sure, you nodded, and he slowly pushed himself inside of you, stretching you out as your walls tightened around you. You winced as you experienced an entirely new feeling, Fred slowed down and stayed still inside of you so you could adjust to his size when you were ready to continue, Fred started to trust himself inside and out of you gently, holding your hand and kissing your head as you started to feel incredible pleasure, your soft moans spilling from your lips.

Fred couldn’t believe he had gotten so lucky, he was fucking - no - he wasn’t - he was making love to the most perfect girl in the world, someone he actually cared deeply for and had feelings for, you weren't a stranger, you were special, you weren’t temporary, you were soothing his aching heart - your absence was the cause, and your love - the medicine.

You watched as Fred’s hard cock slid inside and out of you, you admired his perfect body, the way he moaned and expressed the pleasure he was feeling through his facial expressions, you gripped onto his hand tighter as he picked up his speed and throbbed inside of you, you didn’t want this to end, you wanted to live inside this moment forever.

“My- My tummy feels tight” you panted, not knowing what was happening.

“Cum for me, Y/N.” Fred panted too “Don’t hold back.”

Oh, so that’s what that feeling means?

The pressure built up until it burst, you felt yourself explode as the pleasure became more intense, you relaxed and released, creaming down Fred’s length, your walls strangling him.

“Fuck!” Fred panted, the beads of sweat spreading across his forehead and back “I’m cumming baby!”

Baby.

“Y/N!”

Fred released his sperm deep inside of you without realising he didn’t have a condom on, you didn’t know whether he had put one on or not either, you didn’t know to ask or mention it, you were on birth control up until last week, you had to come off it due to the side effects and stress you under as your N.E.W.Ts approached.

Fred slowly pulled out and collapsed in your arms, the two of you holding one another, your eyes too heavy to stay open.

As you drifted off to sleep, your life was about to change forever.

Taglist: @amourtentiaa @reeophidian @alwaysnforeverfangirl @inglourious-imagines @horrorxweasley @sebby-staan @onlyfreds @pandaxnienke @xmalfoyweasleyx

#fred weasley #fred weasley x reader #fred weasley fanfiction #fred weasley x you #fred weasley imagine #george weasley #george wealsey x reader #george wealsey imagine #george weasley fanfiction #George Weasley one shot #harry potter #harry potter fanfiction #Harry Potter fanfic #ron weasley #bill weasley #bill weasley x reader

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koolkat9 · 3 years ago

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Rarepair but

Wales x Norway fluff in which they exchange knowledge about magic and magical creatures

Oooh. Okay after writing this I'm just...They're so cute. Thank you for the prompt. I think I might of have misunderstood the prompt a bit, but the idea popped in my head and I just ran with it.

Rating: T

Pairing: Wales x Norway, NorWal? WaleNor? Would that be the ship name? Also GerEng but like...one throw away line.

Word Count: 422

My Reward

“No…Nonono…” Dylan muttered as he crouched down to look under the table. There was nothing but dust and a few dropped paperclips. “Wyn…”

“Dylan?” a voice called from behind, making the Welsh man bump his head. “Dylan! What the bloody hell are you doing?”

Dylan slowly rolled himself up, rubbing the back of his head where he was certain a bump would quickly grow. “Hey Arthur,” he replied dejectedly.

“That doesn’t answer my question.”

“W-Well you see I…Please don’t tell Ludwig but…I kind of brought Wyn.”

“WHAT?”

“They can’t see her,” Dylan protested, “And she seemed really sad when I was about to leave--”

“And now she’s lost?”

Dylan nodded sheepishly.

“I’ll keep Ludwig distracted," Arthur said with a sigh, "Just find her,”

“You’ve always been good at doing that,” Dylan teased, though he was relieved for his brother’s help. Arthur’s cheeks turned bright red as he sputtered out something along the lines of the comment being “inappropriate.” Nonetheless, he set off towards Ludwig.

“Thank you! I promise I’ll make it up to you.” But Arthur was already gone. With his newfound time, Dylan set out into the hall on a search for Wyn. He looked in every drawer of every cabinet and behind every seat, but no sign of the scaly little creature. Out of luck there, Dylan made his way into the lobby.

He had entered just as Lukas and the other Nordics were coming in. Accompanying them was a small, red-scaled dragon who sat perched on Lukas’s shoulder. “Wyn,” Dylan cried, running over to the group.

“She must have missed me,” Lukas teased, “She greeted me in the parking lot.”

Dylan took Wyn into his arms, giving her a big hug. “Wyn…You can’t run off like that. Do you know how worried I was?” The dragon hung her head in shame. “Oh don’t look so sad,” Dylan comforted, “It’s okay. Next time, stick close to me. Thank you, Lukas, for finding her.”

Lukas scratched Wyn’s head, a small smile gracing his lips. Dylan’s heart skipped a beat at the sight. He always did love his Norwegian lover’s smile. “Is there some reward for finding her?” Lukas asked, arm coming to wrap around Dylan’s shoulder.

The Welsh man’s cheeks were set ablaze as he met his lover’s eyes. “W-Well uh…” After a moment’s hesitation, he leaned forward, giving Lukas a quick peck on the lips. “W-We better head in. Arthur can only distract Ludwig for so long.”

Lukas let out an amused huff before following Dylan into the meeting room.

#hetalia #hws #valentine's day drabbles #valentines day 2022 #valentines day #norway x wales #wales x norway #norwale #norwal #walnor #walenor #i don't know how to tag it lol #hws norway #hws wales #hws england #fanfiction #hetalia fanfiction

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wh0reyp0tter · 4 years ago

Text

Chapter One: Fucking Dragons

Masterlist for this series

Y/N Y/L/N is chosen as one of the champions in the Triwizard Tournament with one of her best friends, Harry Potter. Along with the struggles of being one of the champions, she also has to navigate her feelings for her best friend, Hermione Granger. But, as far as Y/N knows, Hermione fancies Krum.

Includes: Angst, pining, swearing, wlw, bi!reader (mentions of flirting with men), smut, name-calling, Krum hating, fighting, physical violence, fighting, mentions of injuries, and flirting

_______________________________________________________________

I groan as my head collapses into my hands. I feel a hand on my back as I look up to see Harry looking down at me.

“What’s wrong?” He asks softly.

“Hermione’s off with Krum,” I seethe loudly. Harry laughs softly as he pats my back.

“Well, she does have no idea you fancy her,” Harry points out. I shoot him a glare as I flip him off.

“Shut it, Potter,” I say. Harry and I both were picked for the Triwizard Tournament. We are competing alongside Viktor Krum, Fleur Delacour, and Cedric Diggory.

“Did you hear what the first task is?” Harry says as he sits down. I shake my head as he leans closer to me. “Dragons,” he says quietly. My eyes widen in shock as I look at him.

“Fucking Dragons?” I say loudly. Harry hit my arm as he shushed me.

“Shut up, Y/L/N,” he seethes. I roll my eyes as I let my head fall into my hands again.

“Fucking Dragons, just my luck,” I groan as I shake my head quickly. Harry stands up as he rubs my back.

“I’ll see you later, Y/N/N,” he says. I wave him off as I say goodbye. Hours later I’m sitting in Hermione and I’s dorm room as a lamp flickers softly next to me. I huff in anger as I ball up the paper in front of me and throw it in the bin. I pull out another bit of parchment. I start sketching some ideas before one pops into my head. I sit up brightly as I hear the door get pushed open. I hear it close again as someone appears behind me.

“What are you doing?” I hear Hermione’s soft voice ask.

“Trying to figure out this riddle,” I say, completely focused on the paper in front of me.

“Not really a riddle is it? You just have to get the golden egg from the dragon,” Hermione points out.

“Yeah, but getting something from a dragon! Isn’t that great!” I exclaim, my tone dripping with sarcasm.

“Hey, no need to be an arse, just saying,” Hermione says as she folds her arms over her chest. I shake my head as I begin to think.

“Wand, wand, wands,” I say softly as I tap my head softly.

“Why don’t you use your wand to accio something to help?” She says as she leans against my side.

“Do you think it’s possible to accio the egg?” I ask as I look up at Hermione. She shrugs as she looks down at me. “If not, you could always accio a broom,” she says.

“Has anyone ever told you you’re a bloody genius?” I say as I look up and smile at the girl.

“Once or twice,” Hermione responds with a smile. I smile as I laugh and roll my eyes.

“So modest,” I laugh as I yawn.

“You should sleep, Y/N. The first task is tomorrow,” she says as she pats my head.

“Good idea, H,” I say softly as I lean my head against her side. She runs her hand through my hair slowly. I stand up as I shut off my lamp and walk to my bed. I pull back the quilt as I shuffle into my bed.

“Night darling,” Hermione smiles softly.

“Night ‘Mione,” I say as I yawn. My eyes close as I fall asleep.

I blink softly as the light pours in through the windows. I see Hermione still fast asleep. I smile as I walk over to her before shaking her softly.

“Hermione,” I say softly. She rolls over as she whines loudly. “Come on love, we gotta go down for breakfast.” She sits up as she blinks confused before looking at me.

“Hi,” she says sleepily.

“Hey, gorgeous,” I say with a smile. Hermione gives me a sleepy smile as she leans against my torso.

“Ready for breakfast?” She asks as she stands with a yawn.

“Have to get dressed first, darling,” I smile. She shuffles to her closet as I move to the bathroom to pull on my robes. I walk out as Hermione walks in, I toss my hair into a ponytail as I sit on my bed.

“Ready?” Hermione asks as she comes out. I nod as we both make our way to the Great Hall. We walk through the doors before taking our seat with Ron and Harry.

“You excited, Harry?” I say as I look at the brown-haired boy in front of me.

“I have no idea what I’m gonna do,” he groans as he puts his head in his hands.

“I’m on the same boat you are mate,” I say as I reach for a muffin.

“Like, what are we supposed to do with only wands against dragons?” Harry says as he reaches for a scone and takes a bite.

“Accio. That’s what I’m gonna do,” I say before biting into my muffin.

“You’re brilliant,” he says as his eyes lighten.

“Not me, Hermione. She’s the one who brought it up last night,” I smile as I bump into the small girl. She blushes as she smiles at me.

“I just shoved you into the right direction,” Hermione says.

“Come on, H, now's not the time to be modest,” I tease as I poke her arm.

“Shut up,” she murmurs as she blushes. I laugh as Ron and Harry look at us.

“When does the first task start?” Ron asks with a mouthful of food.

“In like, 15 minutes,” Harry replies.

“Chew and swallow before speaking, Ronald,” Hermione scolds as she glares at the ginger. Ron rolls his eyes as he sticks his tongue out, his half chewed food showing. Hermione gags as I laugh softly. After we finish breakfast Harry and I go change into our tournament gear. Once we finish getting ready we make our way to the big white tent.

“Hey Y/N, Hey Harry,” Cedric greets us with a smile.

“Hey Ced,” I smile. I pull him in for a small hug as Harry greets him as well.

“You guys nervous?” He asks as he looks at us.

“A little,” I say softly. Cedric rubs my arm softly as he gives me a smile.

“Thanks for the tip by the way,” Cedric says to Harry quietly.

“No problem,” Harry says as he pats his back. I hear a quiet voice say my name. I look over to see Hermione’s head poking through the back of the tent. I move over quickly.

“Y/N, is that you?” She asks softly.

“Yeah, it’s me, H,” I smile.

“How are you feeling?” Hermione asks as her voice wavers with nerves.

“I’ll be okay, Dove,” I say softly. I watch as she pushes into the tent as she embraces me tightly.

“Please be careful,” she says as she tucks her head under mine. I laugh softly as I hug her tightly.

“I’ll be fine ‘Mione,” I say.

“Glad to know you care about my safety,” Harry chuckles from behind us. We let go as Hermione hugs him tightly.

“You be careful too you git,” Hermione laughs. Harry smiles as he pats her back softly.

“Thanks, H,” he smiles. I hear a faint click as I turn to see Rita Skeeter standing there with her annoying self-writing quill in the air.

“Oh a young love triangle! Y/N Y/L/N, pining after Harry Potter, the chosen one, while he’s in love with Hermione Granger!” She exclaims. Harry glares at her as she clicks another photo.

“I’m not pining after anyone you absolute twat,” I say with an eye roll. Skeeter laughs as she looks at Viktor.

“And this one is pining after Granger!” She exclaims as she clicks a picture of Viktor. His face turns red as he ignores her. I roll my eyes again as I turn back to Hermione. I see her looking at Krum as Harry’s giving me a knowing look.

“Miss. Granger! What are you doing here?” Dumbledor asks as he enters the tent.

“I was just leaving, professor. Good luck Y/N, good luck Harry,” she says with a soft smile.

“Each of you will be picking a dragon, this will be the dragon who will be protecting the golden egg you need to capture in order to make it to the first task,” Dumbledor says. We each nod before Hagrid presents us with a brown bag. Cedric pulled out the Swedish Short-Snout. Next was Fleur who pulled out the Common Welsh Green. After her, Viktor pulled out the Chinese Fireball. Harry had pulled out a Hungarian Horntail, the meanest dragons of them all. Next I pulled out Hebridean Black. I close my eyes in frustration as I look over at Harry. Of course we got the two most dangerous dragons. We each hand our dragons to our coaches, mine and Harry’s being Madeye. I shake my head quickly before Cedric’s name is called to compete.

“Good luck Ced,” I say as I pat the tall boy’s back. He shoots me a smile before walking out of the tent as the crowd erupts in cheers. I move to watch as he stands in front of the huge sleeping dragon. After a few moments the dragon looks at Cedric before letting out a loud roar as a large flame ignites in the air. Cedric is quick to draw his wand before casting a spell on a nearby rock. I watch as the rock shakes and grows four legs before a large head appears. The body follows quickly as the former rock turns into a grey dog. It barks loudly causing the dragon’s attention to shift off Cedric. He darts towards the egg quickly, he picks it up in his hands before holding up above his head with a smile. The crowd erupts into cheers and screams. I watch as the dragon turns to look at Cedric. It lets out another large flame as it hits his face. He doubles over in pain as someone quickly casts the sleeping spell on the dragon. Cedric is ushered into the tent again as he holds the egg in one hand and his face in the other.

“You did brilliant Ced!” Harry exclaims as he walks towards the injured boy.

“Thanks Harry,” Cedric says with a bright smile. Harry’s face turns red as I walk over.

“Good thinking Ced, that was awesome!” I cheer as I pat the boy on the back. I watch as Madame Pompfrey gives him a potion that he downs quickly.

“Thanks, Y/N/N. I can’t wait to see what you have in mind,” he coughs as he wipes his mouth with the sleeve of his robes.

“Nothing as good as yours,” I smile. He shakes his head with a small smile as the burn on his face disappears. Fleur’s name is called as I talk with Cedric and Harry. Once she returns I congratulate her as she smiles and hugs me softly.

“Thank you, your name is Y/N, yes?” Fleur says with a small smile.

“Yeah, I’m Y/N, sorry we haven’t formally met,” I say as I rub the back of my neck softly.

“It is okay, it has been very hectic lately,” she replies as a small giggle leaves her lips.

“Yeah it has, just wanted to say the sleep enchantment was brilliant,” I smile.

“Thank you very much. I can not wait to see what you have in mind!” The veela smiles at me happily.

“Nothing as brilliant as you,” I reply.

“I am sure that is not true,” she gives me a small smile as she hugs me softly. Viktor is called out next, the buff boy walks out as the crowd erupts in cheers. I roll my eyes as I look at Harry.

“You and Fleur sure do seem cozy,” he teases. I roll my eyes as I punch his arm.

“Shut up Potter,” I scoff with a blush.

“Thought you were into ‘Mione?” He says as he leans against me.

“I am but she’s into Krum, haven’t you noticed?” I roll my eyes.

“Just an infatuation, he’s different,” Harry says as he flicks my forehead. I pinch his arm as he flinches before shooting a glare at me. After a little while longer Krum emerges with a smug smirk and a golden egg tucked under his arm.

“Conjunctive curse! Good idea mate!” Cedric smiles as he pats Krum’s back.

“Thank you,” he replies with a nod.

“Good job getting points docked too,” I laugh. Viktor shoots me a glare as he scoffs and bumps his shoulder into mine aggressively. Harry snickers softly before his name is called. “Go on Harry! You got this!” I cheer loudly as I pat his back.

“Thanks Y/N/N,” he smiles as he hugs me tightly before he walks out. More cheers and yells are heard as I watch. The dragon makes eye contact as he begins to run around the dragon. I watch as the dragon chases him before spitting fire at him. I hold my breath as he ducks behind a big rock. I watch him pull out his wand before he screams something. I watch as his broom flies through the air towards him. I smile as he grabs it and jumps on. He whizzes through the air quickly. I smile as I cheer loudly. He flies around the arena before my eyes widen as the dragon breaks away from the chains holding it down. It flies towards him as he whizzes away quickly. My heart sinks as I watch nervously.

“It’s gonna be okay, he’s Harry Potter,” Cedric says as he walks up behind me.

“I know, I’m just nervous,” I say softly. I feel a hand slip into mine as it squeezes tightly. A few minutes later Harry flies back quickly as he ducks down and grabs the egg before pulling up quickly. Cedric and I cheer loudly as I watch him hold it up triumphantly. He lands as he runs back into the tent.

“Did you see that?” Harry exclaims loudly.

“Hell yeah we did!” I yell. I hug him tightly as I smile. “You did great!” I feel my nerves set in as I realize it’s my turn.

“Don’t worry, you got this,” Cedric smiles down at me. I take a deep breath as the two boys hug me tightly. I hear my name get called as I take a deep breath. I push open the tent as I smile brightly and wave at the crowd. They all begin to cheer loudly as I see the Gryffindor section letting a banner down that says ‘Let’s go Y/L/N!’. I smile happily as I look in front of me to see the big black dragon standing in front of the egg. I take a deep breath as I draw my wand. I take a step forward as I watch it stand straighter as it glares down on me.

“Come on Y/N, you can do this,” I whisper. I look the dragon in the eyes as I stare into them. The dragon lets out a deep huff as it stares back at me. I take a few steps forward. It lunges at me as I keep my stance, acting unfazed. I hear the crowd gasp as they all watch intently. I move to the left side of the dragon before I point my wand at the large dragon.

“Diminuendo!” I call. I watch a thin white stream leave my wand before wrapping itself around the dragon. It shrinks as a loud cheer comes from the crowd. I dart for the golden egg, not knowing how long the dragon would stay under the spell. I pick it up quickly as I turn around and hold it up. I smile brightly as I look around. I turn back to see the dragon back to it’s full size. My eyes widen as I dart away quickly. I hear a loud roar before I feel a faint feeling of warmth on my back. I turn and look at the dragon as I point my wand at it again before screaming

“Duro!” I watch as the dragon slowly turns to stone. I smile brightly as I quickly duck into the tent.

“Merlin Y/N! That was brilliant!” Harry says loudly as he pats my shoulder.

“Yeah Y/N/N! That was insane!” Cedric says as he beams down at me.

“It wasn’t big and flashy like you guys though,” I say with a light blush.

“You used what we didn’t think to!” Harry says happily.

“Y/N! You did incredible!” Fleur exclaims as she hugs me tightly.

“Thank you,” I blush as I hug the tall veela back. I see Viktor rolling his eyes. I smirk to myself as I look at Harry.

“Really Y/N, that was brilliant,” Cedric smiles.

“Thanks Ced,” I say with a small smile. “How’s your face?” I bring my hand up to brush the part that was hit by the flame.

“Fine now, it’s completely gone,” he smiles down at me. They announce that we all will make it to the next task as we cheer loudly. We retreat back to Hogwarts before Harry and I make our way to our dorm, with the golden eggs in our arms.

#hermione granger #hermione granger x you #hermione granger x reader #hermione granger x fem!reader #hermione granger fanfic #hermione granger fanfiction #hermione granger angst #hermione granger fluff #hermione granger pining #angst #pining #fluff #wlw

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the-al-chemist · 3 years ago

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Director’s Cut on the upcoming brilliance that is Legacy? Any parts you care to share.

Why is it that every time I’m tempted to play an ask game and decide that I’d better not, you send me an ask and ruin my resolve? It’s not a complaint. I love it. Thank you 🧡

So, I’m going to share an extract from the prologue of Legacy: An Incident in Ilfracombe. In the HP canon, the Ilfracombe Incident is one of the largest scale dragon attacks in the U.K. during the 20th century. I decided long ago that Artemis’ grandfather Marius was an Obliviator who met her Muggle grandmother when investigating the event - I stand by the fact that all good love stories need at least one dragon in them - but when Ophelia came into the picture, Mavis’ background changed a bit. But I kept this story, and decided to use it as a framing device for the rest of Legacy - each chapter is a short story, one being told by Marius to Mavis, or vice versa.

I’m hoping to post this next week, but in the meantime, here’s an extract:

“My name is Detective Hexley. I have some questions about the fire that broke out in the village this morning, which I’d like you to try and answer for me.”

“Of course. Anything to help the police with their enquiries.”

The Muggle woman smiled, though her lips remained closed and her eyes sceptical. Her voice was soft and strong and lyrical and captivating. Marius wasn’t surprised, she was a singer after all. He placed a sheet of Muggle writing paper on the table in front of him and picked up one of the Muggle quills. Pens.

“Why don’t you start by telling me what you saw this morning?” he asked.

That question had received a lot of different answers so far today, from ‘a bloody great lizard’ to ‘a massive featherless seagull’, but very few had guessed correctly. Why would they? From his experience, Muggles could be very obstinate when it came to refusing to accept what they’d seen with their own eyes.

But perhaps Miss Morland was more open-minded than other Muggles, because she answered:

“A dragon.”

He was going to have to Obliviate her, then. Now he just had to find out exactly what she’d seen, so that he could modify her memories accordingly. Marius smiled patronisingly, the way he had seen real Muggle Aurors do.

“A dragon?”

“Yes, it flew over the village towards the beach, I saw it whilst I was on my way to the bakery,” Miss Morland informed him. “I suspect that is what caused the fire on the balustrade, was it not?”

“The fire started at the pasty shop. Why don’t you tell me more about this… dragon?”

“It was a dragon. I don’t really know what else to tell you. Large, winged, scaly, breathed fire,” Marius nodded and pretended to take notes as Miss Morland’s unusually coloured eyes bored into him. She sighed loudly. “I suppose that if I were to hazard a guess, I should say that it was a Common Welsh Green.”

Marius stopped writing. He raised his eyes from the Muggle parchment. His interviewee’s face was serene. Perhaps he’d misheard her.

“A common what?” he asked, conversationally.

“A Common Welsh Green,” Miss Morland repeated. “Judging by the colour and the wingspan. And, of course, we’re not a great distance from Wales, and given that it’s the Common Green’s mating season at this time of year, you might expect them to venture a little further than they would normally.”

He hadn’t misheard her. She knew about dragons. She knew more about dragons than he did. But how? She was a Muggle. Muggles weren’t supposed to know about dragons.

His confusion must have shown on his face, because Miss Morland smiled again, coyly this time, and tilted her head to one side.

“Are you going to Obliviate me now?”

#the beginning of a symphony #the hexley legacy

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official-weasley · 3 years ago

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Headcanon time! (Part 3)

So @am-i-space and I have been talking about dragons (as one normally does on a Sunday afternoon) and of course, our imagination went wild! Now, we know that our dragon lover works in Romania and we have learned about a few species (even seen a few of them in movies without Charlie but okay let's not discuss that here) of dragons but like, let's face it there are more!

The second I have learned about other schools and that they have dragons guarding the vaults in Gringotts I had a HC that the Romanian Dragon Sanctuary isn't the only one!

I can see one being in Canada, somewhere high up in the mountains and the same goes for South America. Of course, one would also be somewhere in the Himalayas. And let's face it the breeds we have all grown to love aren't the only ones!

Of course, Charles Weasley agrees with us 110% and after working in the Sanctuary for 10-15 years he takes a bit of a breather (not from dragons, of course) and travels the world in the hopes to see as many of them as he can. He borrows dad's camera (the one Bill got for him in my other HC where they go and see alpacas) and he starts his adventure.

So, let's start with the sea! I agree with @am-i-space like what do we know about oceans, really? Bloody nothing, that's what! So they proposed that there are water dragons and I am 100% on board with that. Just imagine them swimming around, ever so gracefully, blowing bubbles when they breathe! And they would have the most beautiful scales which would reflect in the sun ranging from dark green to purple and blue and even though they are BIG they are friendly and swim with the dolphins and communicate with whales.

Nobody will convince me that when Charlie goes to observe this beautiful behavior and hears the water dragons sing their mating song for the first time he doesn't cry his eyes out because he can swear that he has never heard such a beautiful sound before and would never get tired of it and is honestly thinking about moving in the middle of the ocean so he could wake up to those sounds every morning.

The next stop on his journey would be to find out if the rumors about ice dragons are true. Charlie, as smart as he is, knew that the most probable location to see if they are real would be the Himalayas. So he wrote to the Himalayan Sanctuary to stay there for a couple of weeks to explore in peace. The dragonologists he talked to there all said that they have given up hope to see one and that despite the rumors that they are hiding one in their reserve they had to disappoint him because they don't have it.

So Charlie put on the hat, the scarf, and the gloves (he knitted himself thank you very much!) and headed out, determined that he will find the ice dragon!

After about a week of hiking and his muscles aching, he began to lose hope to see one. He knew that he would need more time and that he would be ridiculously lucky to see one in such a short amount of time but he also knew that he has to take care of himself and put his health first so he headed back.

A day in, he heard something that sounded like a cry for help. It was in dangerous territory and he probably shouldn't go there but it really sounded like a baby dragon and there won't be a day in his life where Charlie Weasley wouldn't help a dragon in need.

He gasped when he came to the spot the cries were coming from. He saw something white and silver move in a huge pile of snow which looked like an aftermath of an avalanche. He hurried to see what was making the sounds and if the creature was okay at once.

The second he started to remove the snow around the creature he knew he has found one - an ice dragon! The baby dragon was frightened and looked at Charlie with appreciative eyes when he picked him up and started to look around to where this little guy could come from.

He remembered that baby dragons are really good at finding their way back to their mothers so once he brought the cub to safety he put him down and observed his behavior.

When his little ice friend stopped being disoriented he started crying again and howling toward the nearby mountain.

"Of course!" Charlie pressed his hand on his forehead and shook his head. Of course, the reason he couldn't find an ice dragon before, was because they live on the highest loneliest peeks.

Charlie was looking up at the one in front of him, thinking how in the bloody hell is he supposed to get up there with all his gear, tired muscles, and a baby dragon to top it all off!

Then he remembered that while it might not be humanly possible, a bit of magic could do the trick! He gently tied the little guy to his bag and took out his wand. He walked to the bottom of the mountain and then he cast the levitation charm on himself.

Every time he saw a platform that looked stable enough to stand on he stopped to take a few breaths and see how his friend was doing. The higher they got the more cheerful the little one got and Charlie knew they were getting closer.

Charlie put his wand away when they landed in front of what looked like a cave. Charlie gently untied the dragon and put him on the ground. The dragon let out the cutest little roar that made Charlie's heart melt and the ground beneath them started to shake.

Charlie gulped and didn't find his idea to return the dragon back home smart anymore when a gigantic version of his white-silver friend appeared in front of him. The dragon mother looked mad but cautious. The cub ran to her - trying his hardest to fly - and started making purring noises. The ice dragon momma sniffed her baby and then sniffed Charlie which was the coldest breath he has ever felt on his skin.

After she was done, he ushered her cub inside, and with a wiggle of his tail at Charlie, his ice friend disappeared inside the cave. Once his mother made sure he was safe, she turned back to Charlie and roared right in his face.

Charlie, who was used to dragons do that every day back in Romania, didn't even blink. His calm composure impressed the ice dragon and she carefully turned around and lowered herself to the ground.

Charlie knew what she was doing but still couldn't believe it! The dragon is going to let him fly on her! He was only so lucky 2 times with the dragons in the Sanctuary and they knew him for years and this one was just patiently waiting for him to get ready as if he was here every day.

The second Charlie stroked the cold silver scales on her back, the dragon started fluttering her wings, and before Charlie had a chance to gasp they were in the air - making a full circle around the dragon's home and then slowly losing altitude until they were at the bottom of the mountain.

Charlie thanked the dragon and apologized for not having anything for her to eat while the ice mother replied with breathing icy cold air straight into Charlie's face. He was observing her flying back up to her cub and he knew that he could take a picture of her but since nobody knew they were here and were probably pretty rare he decided to just keep the memory of the experience close to his heart and returned to the Sanctuary.

The last stop of his - so far absolute epic adventure - was the Sanctuary in South America which was hidden deep in the Andes mountain range. There he met a few very exotic species of dragons who reminded him a lot of the Welsh Greens he took after in Romania except that these were of all sorts of colors from red to violet.

After the tour of the reserve, 2 of the Dragonologists took him to what looked like a highly protected and secluded habitat and told him that they only share this information with other dragonologists.

Charlie was excited to see what they are hiding but he wasn't prepared for what he saw once they got there. It was a storm dragon - sky blue with a white mane.

"But I thought they were extinct." Was all Charlie managed to say before approaching the beautiful creature to fully take in what was resting in front of him.

The two dragonologists told him that he is the last of its kind and that he must be protected at all costs until his very last breath which hopefully the day that happens is still very very far away.

Charlie's 2 new friends allowed him to spend a few hours with the mighty beast and as he was sitting there, studying it, Charlie couldn't believe that all his dreams were coming true.

The next day when he was having dinner in a nearby restaurant he heard some of the locals there whisper about a creature called el chupacabra. He has heard of the creature before - mostly when he read Muggle folklore. However, these people weren't describing a dog-like creature. No! It sounded like they were talking about dragons except that they described the creature as fairly small and surely no breed of a dragon is that small?

Because this information didn't allow Charles Weasley the dragon lover (not obsessor, only lover) to sleep at night he decided to venture into the Amazonian rainforest and see the creature for himself.

He was only walking for 5 hours this time around when he heard unusual squeaking noises. They led him to a meadow that appeared to be empty at first. Because he was parched, he sat down at the edge of it, took off his backpack, drank some water, and unwrapped a sandwich he prepared in the morning.

The second the smell of his delicious meal spread he saw a few heads poke out of the tall grass. Charlie couldn't believe his eyes! They were dragons and the locals were right - they were so small! More and more dragons started to approach him and at this point, Charlie started to think he was in heaven because this was too good to be true.

They appeared to be friendly and awfully playful. He was also in awe by their size as some were as small as crup puppies while the biggest was about to his waist in height.

Charlie had no choice but to share his sandwich for which he was rewarded with licks and wiggling tails. These dragons didn't breathe fire as Charlie expected but big puffs of air that soothed him in this Amazonian heat. They came in all sorts of colors from different hues of green and brown and some were even yellow and orange.

They were absolutely beautiful and even though they had the structure of most dragons there was something about them that Charlie couldn't wrap his mind about. He narrowed his eyes and observed one for solid 5 minutes before he figured it out.

They had a fluffball of hair on the top of their heads making them the only breed Charlie has ever laid his eyes on to have fur and it made them extra adorable!

He spent the rest of his afternoon chasing and playing with the fluffs (as he called them) and because he was having so much fun he forgot about the time, making him almost spend the night in the jungle.

As he was returning he couldn't stop the smile that was spreading from one of his ears to the other as he deemed his adventure more than successful and he couldn't wait to take another breather like this because he is sure that there are even more breeds out there to see and admire!

#charlie weasley #charlie weasley headcanon #because daydreaming with friends is amazing

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headcanonsandmore · 4 years ago

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“Letters to Charlie”

Summary: A selection of letters from Ron to his brother Charlie, throughout Ron's first four years at Hogwarts. Includes some mild Romione mentions.

Read on FFN. Read on AO3.

~~~~~~~~~

[1st October 1991]

Dear Charlie,

How are things at the reserve? You said in your last letter that you’ve been getting a lot more burns than normal; have you asked mum for her recipe on salves?

Anyway, I’m settling in okay at Hogwarts. Really glad I was in Gryffindor; my friend Harry was really worried about it, I think. He’s doing fine, but I wish everyone would stop gawking at him all the time. He’s a good bloke; bit quiet but, considering what his aunt and uncle seem to be like, that’s not surprising.

Also, there’s this girl in our class who’s pretty annoying. She treats everyone like they’re idiots and she’s such a teacher’s pet! Her name’s Hermione Granger, and she’s always butting in whenever me and Harry are chatting. She’s not all bad, but I wish she wouldn’t be so uptight about everything. You’d think that someone with hair that bushy would be a bit more fun-loving, but she’s very straightlaced. But I saw her laughing the other day at a joke I made, so maybe she’s not so serious all the time? She has a cute nice laugh.

Don’t tell the twins I said that, or they’ll never stop going on about it.

Anyway, hope you’re okay and that everyone at the reserve is doing fine,

Love,

Ron

[12th November 1991]

Dear Charlie,

Glad to hear that that the Common Welsh Green pair are doing okay. Things have gotten pretty weird at Hogwarts; someone (probably Peeves) let a troll into the castle at Halloween! Me and Harry had to rescue Hermione Granger from the troll; she covered for us, so we didn’t get punished. McGonagall even gave us some points for Gryffindor!

Hermione’s alright, I think. Bit intense, but she’s not as stuffy as I thought. I mean, it was kind-of my fault that she ended up getting caught by the troll, so I’m glad she didn’t hold a grudge about it. She’s always asking me about stuff, probably because she’s never grown up in a magical family. You wouldn’t think it if you saw her in class, though; she gets so many questions right and she’s apparently memorised the textbooks! Barmy, I know, but she’s alright.

Speaking of dragons, do you know if there’s any way of getting a baby one out of the country? Hagrid has a baby Norwegian Ridgeback in his house, but it’s dangerous for the baby to stay here.

Love,

Ron

[16th August 1992]

Dear Charlie,

We managed to rescue Harry from the Dursleys! Mum went mad when we got back, but no harm done. Harry’s aunt and uncle had bars put on his window! I told mum we had to get him out quick; good thing I noticed he wasn’t responding to my letters. Apparently, a house-elf was trying to stop him going back to Hogwarts; weird, right?

Hermione’s saying that she’s hoping to meet up with us in Diagon Alley; I hope so. It’ll be nice to see her again. Apparently, she’s already done all her homework, but that’s what she’s like. What do you think I should get her for her birthday? I asked Harry, but he suggested one of the textbooks (the poor bloke’s never had to buy any presents for anyone ever). I was thinking maybe some of her favourite long-lasting quills, but I’m not sure. Do you reckon I should get her something more… girly? Her best mates are two blokes, so maybe she’d like something to make it clear that I we don’t just see her as another boy? What do you think?

I’m looking forward to Hogwarts this year; hopefully, it should be a bit quieter than last year. How’s your summer been going? You mentioned about the Chinese Fireball having fang rot; has that been fixed yet, or is she still having troubles?

Hope all’s good with you,

Love,

Ron

[6th January 1993]

Dear Charlie,

You’ve probably heard the news already about the attacks happening at Hogwarts. The teachers don’t seem to know who’s doing it. Me, Harry, and Hermione have been trying to figure things out, but we haven’t got any leads lately. We thought it might have been Malfoy, but turns out he’s not doing it (still too happy about the attacks, though, the little git!).

I’m really worried about Hermione, to be honest. The attacks are always against muggle-borns and I’m scared she’s gonna be attacked. Do you know if there’s any creature that can petrify someone? I would ask the defence teacher, but Lockhart can barely tell one end of his wand from the other. Can’t see why Hermione likes him so much; can’t she see how much of a stupid twerp he is?

Like I said before, I’m really sorry about breaking your old wand. I know you said you don’t mind and you’re just glad I was okay, but still. It keeps making weird bubbles whenever I try and cast any spells. My own fault for breaking it, I guess.

Hope you’re well,

Love,

Ron

[8th May 1993]

Dear Charlie,

Hermione got attacked. She’s been stuck in the hospital wing ever since.

I’m scared. Harry’s managing to keep his head screwed on straight, but I can’t concentrate in lessons. I keep expecting Hermione to be sat next to me, and whenever I turn to look at her, I remember where she is. All pale and cold, like she’d dead or something.

What do I do, Charlie? How do I help her?

Love,

Ron

[1st June 1993]

Dear Charlie,

Hermione’s okay! The mandrake stuff finally got given to her, and she’s back to normal! I haven’t smiled this much in months! She gave me and Harry a massive hug each when she turned up in the great hall; me and her couldn’t quite look each-other in the eye afterwards, but I think we both got a bit overwhelmed, you know?

Turns out, this was also because Lucius Malfoy was trying to stop dad’s muggle protection law being passed; people could have died!

Confused as to why none of the teachers bothered to ask Myrtle, since she was a witness to the last time the chamber has been opened, but I guess we’ll never know. Were the teachers like this when you were here?

Anyway, got to go; I insisted that Hermione play some chess with me, since our exams have been cancelled (can you guess which Gryffindor was upset about that?).

Love,

Ron

[3rd September 1993]

Dear Charlie,

We’re all settling back in at Hogwarts; I’m still using those quills you got me in Egypt (thanks again, by the way). Everyone’s talking about Sirius Black, and Malfoy won’t stop being smug about how he knows something we don’t (arrogant little twerp as always).

Hermione’s cat is a bloody nightmare; he’s spent every evening trying to get at Scabbers, but Hermione won’t hear a word against him! Honestly, I don’t get why she can’t just keep the cat away when I ask her to. But she’s always had this thing about being right about everything, so it’s not unsurprising. I just wish she’d stop acting like it’s normal; Hedwig’s been around for three years, and she’s never attacked Scabbers!

Having said that, the first Hogsmeade visit is something to look forward to. It’s gonna be a bit different because Harry can’t go (his aunt and uncle refused to sign his form), but me and Hermione are going to make sure we take back lots of stuff for him so he doesn’t feel left out.

I am a little nervous about going, though; me and Hermione spend loads of time together, so why would this be any different? Probably nothing. Maybe it’s just because we’re bickering more because of our pets? Yeah, that sounds about right. I’ve already got her birthday present, so hopefully she’s not too angry at me and won’t mind me giving her a present.

Let me know how the Chinese Fireball baby is doing,

Love,

Ron

[4th January 1994]

Dear Charlie,

Hermione just can’t keep her nose out of things! She reported Harry’s firebolt to McGonagall, and now it’s been confiscated! She says it’s because it could have been sent by Sirius Black. I know that’s a possibility, but she didn’t need to go behind Harry’s back about it!

I swear, this girl is driving me nuts!

Love,

Ron

[13th February 1994]

Dear Charlie,

Me and Hermione have made things up; she even apologised about Scabbers. She must have been really upset, because she started crying and hugged me! Is it normal to get all flustered when a girl hugs you? Cause it didn’t the same as it did when she hugged me at the end of second year.

You’ve probably heard from Hagrid about Buckbeak being executed. We’re trying to get an appeal plea sorted; it’s mostly me and Hermione doing it, since Harry’s got other stuff to worry about. It’s nice being friends with Hermione again; I hated it when we weren’t speaking. It’s still a bit awkward (we both can’t quite look each other in the eye at times), but that’s probably normal, given what’s happened.

Remember to put that salve mum made on your new scars,

Love,

Ron

[14th July 1994]

Dear Charlie,

Hope you’re enjoying the summer so far; it’ll be great to see you again, mum’s organising the room situation, so I think you’re sharing with Bill. Can’t wait for the world cup! Do you think Ireland will win against Bulgaria? I’ve been saving my pocket money all summer for it, so I can buy some souvenirs! Are you gonna bring some stories about the dragons when you get here?

Mum’s said I can invite Harry and Hermione over, and they’ll be coming to the world cup with us! It’ll be brilliant to see them again; Harry deserves a break from those horrible people he lives with, and Hermione could do with a break from work in general (she’s already finished all her summer homework, but that’s what she’s like).

It’ll be great to have both of them here for the summer; I hope Hermione doesn’t mind sharing with Ginny, since Gin’s more of a Quidditch-head than Hermione is. Mum keeps on at me to tidy my room before Hermione arrives, but it’s not as if she’s staying in my room, is it?

I did clean up my room a bit, though. Hermione’s a bit funny about mess, and I don’t want her to think I’m a slob.

See you soon,

Love,

Ron

[30th October 1994]

Dear Charlie,

I’m still angry at mum, dad, and Bill for keeping us in the dark about the Triwizard Tournament; half the other kids from wizarding families knew! Speaking of the Tournament, the students from the other schools have arrived. You won’t believe it but Viktor Krum’s a student at Durmstrang! He’s a bit grouchy looking, but I guess he gets sick of people treating him different all the time. I didn’t know he was eighteen; he looks way older. The Slytherins are trying to cosy up to him, but he’s knows exactly what they’re doing; I saw him telling a few of them off for being unpleasant to the muggle-born first years. So I guess he’s alright.

The students from Beauxbatons are all nice enough but one of the girls has some sort of Veela charm thing. Hermione keeps glaring at me whenever I get caught in it, but it’s hardly my fault, is it? Harry gets affected too, but does she yell at him? No, of course she doesn’t. I swear, Hermione’s been weird ever since the term started; the other week I caught her staring at my hands for no reason. She got all flustered when she saw I’d noticed, and yelled at me to concentrate on my work. I’m worried about her. Did that ever happen between you and your friends at school? Is this something that happens around our age? I know that mum said things start to change after you get into your teenage years.

Speaking of change, I hope I can get some new dress robes before I ever have to wear these ones. Do you think Bill has any old ones he can let me borrow? I don’t get why mum didn’t just remove the lace and change the colour. I was going to ask Hermione to do it, but I don’t want her to think I’m whining. I just wish I could have some decent robes like all the other boys have. I know money’s tight at the moment, but even the twins have got alright-looking robes to wear I’d feel a lot better if I wasn’t stuck wearing rubbishy clothes for once.

Apparently, the tournaments due to start tomorrow evening. Me and Harry did have a think about entering, but it’s probably too high security. Fred and George said they’re gonna enter, because they turn seventeen in April, so they won’t need to use much aging potion. Should be interesting to see whether they succeed. I just hope we get a decent Hogwarts champion; Cedric Diggory’s alright, but half the girls get giggly over him and it’s bloody annoying. Hermione says it’s because he’s a prefect, but she’s a bit funny like that. If I ever end up a prefect, I bet I wouldn’t have girls giggling and getting flustered about me.

Got to go now; Hermione said she wants to go over our Transfiguration homework in the common room.

Love,

Ron

[25th November 1994]

Dear Charlie,

You should have told me you’d be here for the first task! I know it was secret, but it would have been nice to catch up! Glad the trip over was safe and that the dragons are all okay. That Hungarian Horntail was a nasty piece of work; Harry almost got hit by it!

Speaking of which, me and Harry are best mates again. I’m glad; it was miserable when we weren’t speaking. Funnily enough, he said he didn’t even need an apology; just told me to forget about it. Weird bloke, but it’s great to be friends with him again. Hermione got all teary and told us we were being stupid, but she’s never really understood things like this, so there you go.

Love,

Ron

[17th December 1994]

Dear Charlie,

Glad to hear the dragons got safely back to Romania with no issues. I almost wish I was there instead; ever since this ball thing got announced, half the school’s gone mad about it. Everyone’s asking everyone to it, and I don’t get it. Why can’t we all just go as friends and have fun? But the boys keep going on about dates, so I said I best go with someone good-looking. Yes, I know it’s dumb, but how else will I get everyone to not laugh at my robes? I even asked McGonagall if I could go in my school ones, but she insisted that I use my official dress robes (although she did look sympathetic while she said it, so I guess she understood where I was coming from).

Flitwick’s doing alterations to people’s robes, but he was so swamped with requests that there isn’t any room for me to get mine changed. I swear, I can’t wait until the ball is done and I won’t have to worry about this stuff anymore.

I’d happily stay behind in Gryffindor Tower with the first, second and third years, but I can’t leave Harry in the lurch. He’s got to be there to open the ball, and it wouldn’t be fair to leave him on his own; the poor bloke isn’t good with crowds, especially since half of the school still gawks at his scar every day.

Hermione doesn’t seem to take much interest in the ball, so maybe she’s also planning on staying behind. She got angry at me when I mentioned about going with a pretty girl, which is understandable (it was a dumb thing to say). Hopefully, she’ll have forgiven me by the time Christmas swings around, and we can just go and have fun at the ball. Just as friends, obviously. Maybe if we’re having a laugh, I won’t have to think about my robes looking so awful.

Love,

Ron

[27th December 1994]

Dear Charlie,

I swear, if I ever have to go to another ball again, it’ll be too soon! Hermione’s still angry at me about it; which makes sense, since I was a bit of an arse. But, well, she went with Krum! Seriously, he’s eighteen and she’s barely fifteen! Why didn’t any of the teachers think that was creepy? Why was I the only person who got irritated by it? Is it really so bad that I don’t want my friend being pursued by some creepy eighteen-year-old git? I know what the twins are saying about it, but it’s alright for them, isn’t it? They had decent robes and could actually ask a girl without the girl glaring at them like they’d only just realised the girl was a girl! Gits. They don’t get it.

Ginny had a nice time with Neville, at the very least. Neville’s a good bloke, and I’m glad he treated her well. Apparently, she borrowed a dress off a friend for the ball. I wish I was shorter so I could have just borrowed something off Harry; that would have at least made things a bit easier. Then I wouldn’t have already been a bad mood before we even got to the ball.

Seriously, I’m never wearing those robes again. I don’t care what mum says, I’d rather go in my normal school ones that those frilly disasters.

Me and Hermione are being more polite to each other than normal, which is probably for the best. I hate the fact that I got so angry at her, but I’ve learnt now to not act like that again. I mean, considering she got Krum, I don’t think she’ll need to worry about me acting like that again. It wasn’t as if she even said she wanted to go with me, either; how was I supposed to know? I’m not a mind-reader!

Hope your Christmas is going better than mine, and thank you for the burn-proof socks; they’ll come in handy against the Skrewts.

Love,

Ron

[27th February 1995]

Dear Charlie,

It was nice getting some of the limelight for a while; everyone was asking me about what it was like during the second task. I even had Padma Patil hanging on to my every word about it; I even managed to apologise to her properly for being such a berk at the ball (she was my dance partner, but we didn’t do any dancing). She seemed pretty okay with it.

Fleur Delacour (you remember, the champion who used the calming charm on her dragon in the first task) is being very nice lately; I think she got the impression me and Harry helped saved her sister in the second task. She even gave me a kiss on the cheek after we were all out of the lake! It’s nice to get attention from girls for a change.

Funnily enough, Hermione get glaring at me for the rest of the day. Funny how it’s fine for her to get attention from boys (that creep Krum had her as the person he’d miss the most; they’ve only been to the Yule ball together, the pervy git!), but I can’t do so much as talk to other girls without getting the cold treatment from her. Barmy as ever, but that’s what she’s like.

I think Harry’s really happy about the tournament just having one task left; at this point, I just hope he gets through it with no injuries or anything. Poor bloke’s had another rough year, and I hope he can take it easy after this is all over.

I wonder what I’ll get for my birthday this year. You think Hermione will get me anything? She’s so irritable lately that I wouldn’t be surprised if she just gets me a card and some chocolate frogs. Given what’s happened between us lately, that sounds about as much as I can hope for.

At least we’re still friends, though. I’m not that much of an idiot that I’d stop talking to her over this. I almost lost one friend this year; I don’t want the same thing happening with Hermione.

Love,

Ron

[29th June 1995]

Dear Charlie,

Harry left the hospital wing a few days ago. Me and Hermione are trying to help him as best we can, but the poor bloke still’s struggling. I’m not surprised, considering what he went through.

Dumbledore’s said that things are already changing. I just hope he knows what to do. But he’s still saying that Harry needs to go back to the Dursleys this summer. I hope we can pick him up as soon as possible; Harry’s relatives are bloody horrible.

After the third task, me and Hermione stayed up in the common room. We’ve both said we’re gonna help Harry with whatever happens in future. She also hugged me before she went to bed. It was different this time. It seemed like neither of us wanted to let go.

Stay safe,

Love,

Ron

~~~~~~~~~

Thanks for reading, everyone! Hope you enjoyed it!

#harry potter fanfiction #fanfiction #fanfic #ron weasley #charlie weasley #tw: food mention #tw: insecurities #tw: mental health #character study #pre-romione #romione #ronmione

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that-scouse-wizard · 4 years ago

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HPHL Profile: Reuben Willows

General Information

Full name: Reuben Patrick Willows

Gender: Cis Male

DOB: 17/07/18XX

Species: Human

Blood status: Pure-blood

Sexuality: Bisexual

Alignment: Neutral Good

Ethnicity: White-Irish

Nationality: Irish

Residence: Dublin, Ireland

Later, the Llwelyn Manor

Myers Briggs Personality Type: ENFP, the Campaigner

Special ability: Legilimens

Character Summary: Level-headed though as stubborn as a mule, Reuben Willows is a natural born Legilimens. A love for all things draconic inspires the studious Ravenclaw to become a Dragonoligist. Perhaps he could use his abilities to better understand the minds of the beasts he is so fascinated with. Though he appears intimidating, just don’t voice open support of the Ministry (especially the Warlock’s Convention of 1709) around him and you’ll be fine.

Personality

Artistic: Reuben is very much fond of drawing, finding it quite relaxing, he loves drawing landscapes and people’s portraits.

Calm: Reuben is usually non-confrontational about most topics, except for how competent the Ministry really is, then he’ll absolutely tear into it.

Cocky: Reuben can get a bit arrogant about his achievements when he does well in them. It’s resulted in a few close shaves when handling magical creatures.

Competitive: As a beater on the Ravenclaw Quidditch team, Reuben always encourages a healthy sense of competition between the other houses though even he needs to be careful about crossing the line.

Empathetic: Reuben’s Legilimens abilities allows him to sense how others are feeling, often giving him insight on how best to approach them in the moment. This has gone so far as even being able to calm dragons down.

Hard-working: Work on his grandparents farm/ farm shop reinforced the ideal of hard, honest work in him. There’s no real shortcut to success in his eyes.

Loyal: Reuben has a great sense of loyalty to his grandparents and to friends who show it.

Stubborn: Reuben has the Willows’ family infamous stubbornness, it’s not often he’ll falter from his position on something.

Witty: Despite his imposing size and build, Reuben would much prefer to use brain over brawn unless he absolutely has to.

Appearance

Face claim: Hafthor Bjornsson

Voice claim:

Game appearance: TBA

Physique: Athletic, broad-shouldered, pretty much a walking wall of muscle.

Hair colour: Dark brown.

Eye colour: Grey.

Hair style: Usually keeps it cropped short.

Height: 6′1′’

Weight: 85kg (when full grown)

Scarring: Has three major ones. A bowtruckle scratch down the length of the upper side of his left forearm. One on his right elbow after landing roughly when a cow on his grandparents’ farm chased him. One on his abdomen from an especially feisty Welsh Green wyrmling (baby dragon) after it whipped him with its tail. Also has several on his back from his dad took a belt to him

Body modifications: Has two tattoos on his chest, depicting the heads of a Hungarian Horntail (his favourite dragon species) and an Irish Ironhead (an original dragon). On his upper right arm, a depiction of a Welsh Green, similarly on his upper left arm, a Norwegian Ridgeback. No piercings.

Inventory: His wand, a sketchbook, a journal, his writing/drawing equipment and most importantly, his Irish Ironhead dragon fang necklace..

Fashion: Aside from his Quidditch attire during a match and robes for lessons, Reuben tends to wear very hardy materials one would expect a farmer to wear.

Think this style:

However, Reuben will definitely dress up well for any formal event, most likely will wear bronze and blue..

Background/History:

Pre-Hogwarts:

-Reuben was born close to Dublin, Ireland to auror parents, their only child.

-Unfortunately, the two of them desired to see Reuben gain the influence of an auror just as they had.

-They effectively tried to groom Reuben for this career path to an abusive extent, especially to make his Legilimens abilities work as a lie detector of sorts..

-One such measure taken was severing Reuben’s contact with his grandparents when he was nine. Previously, the happiest Reuben had been was working on their farm/farm shop that provided for the local wizarding community. His parents began to feel this was a distraction which prompted the separation.

First year: .

-Despite his best efforts he just doesn’t have a knack for DADA, something that infuriates his parents.

-He meets several of his lifelong friends including the three who would make up his found family, Cledwyn Ironwood, Faith Renner and Marigold Sterling

Second year:

-He learns via letter from his grandad that his grandmother has passed away, enclosed in the letter is small, sharp, serrated tooth perfect for snipping grass and shrubs. The fang of an extinct herbivorous dragon species called the Irish Ironhead, it’s been fashioned into a necklace. One that he wears proudly whenever he’s at Hogwarts.

-Between the summer of second and third year, Siobhan Llwelyn invites him to spend some time at the dragon sanctuary, where Reuben meets his hero, Edwin Llwelyn.

Third year:

-TBA

Fourth year:

-TBA

Fifth year

-TBA:

Sixth year

-Finally after years of trying to avoid or take a sticks and stones approach to his parent’s abuse, Reuben snaps. By this point, he’s fully grown and very strong, he drags his father outside the family home and pummels him to within an inch of his life.

-He doesn’t give his father the satisfaction of dying, instead opting to spit on his beaten, bloodied form. Then giving both of his parents a stark warning to stay away from him, he doesn’t want them in his life anymore.

Seventh year:

-Reuben’s main residence outside of Hogwarts is his grandparent’s farm, looking after his grandfather in his failing health when he can.

-Just after he graduates, his grandfather passes away.

Post-Hogwarts:

-Reuben’s budding skills as a dragonologist come to full fruition under the tutelage of Edwin. The apprenticeship lasts for a solid three years before Edwin officially hires Reuben.

-Two years after that, Siobhan returns from her five year long journey, staying on as a consultant but having no desire to take over the sanctuary.

-Instead (much to Reuben’s surprise) Siobhan thinks he should take over the sanctuary.

-Reuben spends the rest of his days helping to rehabilitate the dragons on the sanctuary, becoming a renowned dragonologist of the time.

-He documents successes and failures in rearing the dragons, publishing his findings in a series of books. Occasionally being a bit scathing of the Ministry in certain passages.

Family:

Father: Declan Willows

Face Claim: Adam Pettyfer

A harsh man with utter disdain for his son’s aspirations, Declan is very much uncompromising and loathes the thought of his only child rebelling against him. His own upbringing from his father being too much of push over, seeing how it affected his family is it what turned him into the cruel, bitter patriarch of the Willows family

Mother: Sophie Willows (nee Neylan)

Face claim: Anne Hathaway

Similarly to her husband, hates Reuben’s interest in animals and magical creatures. Unlike her parents, despises the thought of being a farmer, hence why she chose to become an auror for the influence it gave.

Her strained relationship with her parents would come to a head when she forbade Reuben from having any contact with them when he was nine.

Grandmother: Aislin Willows (nee Nic Naois)

Face Claim: Judi Dench

A kind and loving grandmother, utterly devoted to her only grandson, Aislin would encourage Reuben’s love of the natural world. Something that caused further tension in the already strained relationship with her daughter Sophie, coming to a head when Reuben was separated from her and her husband, Nathan.

Sadly, she would pass away during Reuben’s second year, having not seen him face-to-face for three years. However, her last gift to him would be the fang of an Irish Ironhead she managed to acquire.

Grandfather: Nathan Willows

Face claim: Patrick Stewart

A devoted grandfather to Reuben and someone who instilled the value of hard work into him. Also fond of teaching his grandson how to bake cakes and how to run a business in the family’s farm and farm shop.

He was heartbroken when Reuben was taken from him and Aislin, but even more so when Aislin would pass away after a few years. His own failing health would sadly mean he passed away just after Reuben graduated but at least had the chance to spend his last days with his grandson by his side.

Granddaughter: Rue Willows

Face Claim: Fiona O’Carroll

Having a similar relationship to himself and his own grandparents, Reuben greatly encourages Rue’s decision to go into Dragonology. Even if it is under the employ of the Ministry as part of the Dragon Research and Restraint Bureau.

He would go so far as to gift Rue his dragon fang necklace, that she would then pass on to her son, David.

Though he would never live long enough to meet his great-grandsons, Reuben had an indirect impact on David’s life. David would befriend Charlie Weasley after the boy recognises his relation to Reuben. David is also encouraged by Murphy McNully (a Ravenclaw in David’s AU) to try out for Quidditch after hearing about Reuben’s exploits on the Quidditch pitch. David is gifted Reuben’s dragon fang necklace by Rue after their relationship improves.

Allegiances:

Hogwarts House: Ravenclaw

Affiliations: Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, the Llwelyn dragon sanctuary.

Professions: Trainee dragonologist (for three years)

Dragonologist/Author: Rest of his life until retirement.

Hogwarts Information

Astronomy: E

Charms: A

DADA: P

Flying: O

Herbology: A

History of Magic: E

Potions: P

Transfiguration: E

Electives:

COMC: O

Divination: E

Muggle studies: P

Quidditch:

Ravenclaw Beater (later captain)

Favourite professors

-TBA

Least Favourite Professors

-TBA

Best canon friends

-TBA

Love Interest

-If you’d like your MC to be Reuben’s love interest, let me know!

Best MC friends:

Cledwyn Ironwood, though Cledwyn was very much a dour Gryffindor when they first met with time, the two would form a bond as close as brothers. Reuben often acting as Cledwyn’s voice of reason.

Danny Gibson (@catohphm) a dorm mate of Reuben’s and the seeker on the Quidditch team, the two develop quite a close friendship. On the Quidditch pitch, Danny knows Reuben will keep the bludgers off his back.

Faith Renner, despite her hostile attitude for a Hufflepuff, Reuben made it a mission to befriend her after becoming quite interested in how she would make colourful fish hooks. They would become close friends, bonding a bit more in COMC class.

Leila Hellebore (@whatwouldvalerydo) A beater on the Slytherin Quidditch team, immediately marking her to be a rival. Reuben enjoys the competition with her and even finds the fact that he’s over a foot taller than her quite adorable.

Marigold Sterling, though Mary was quite intimidating, Reuben and Marigold would more often than not find themselves studying together. It would take time but she would eventually open up to him, trusting him with the secret that she was a maledictus and would later ask him to join her in helping to break her curse.

Siobhan Llewelyn (@kc-needs-coffee) A fellow Ravenclaw and dragonologist, Reuben was initially quite endeared to her relation to Edwin Llewlyn. However, he soon broke past that, becoming a close friend to Siobhan, to the extent of being allowed to eventually take over management of the Llwelyn dragon sanctuary.

Message me if you would like Reuben to be your MC’s friend!

Rivals:

Leila Hellebore (during Quidditch)

Enemies:

-Dragon poachers

Magical abilities:

Wand: Hazel, dragon heartstring core, 11 inches, unyielding flexibility.

Hazel wands often reflect its owner’s emotional state and work best for a master who understands and can manage their own feelings. Others should be very careful handling a hazel wand if its owner has recently lost their temper, or suffered a serious disappointment because the wand will absorb such energy and discharge it unpredictably. It is capable of outstanding magic in the hands of the skilful and is so devoted to its owner that it often ‘wilts’ at the end of their master's life. Hazel wands also have the unique ability to detect water underground and will emit silvery, tear-shaped puffs of smoke if passing over concealed springs and wells.

Dragon heartstrings produce wands with the most magic power, and which are capable of the most flamboyant spells. Dragon wands tend to learn more quickly than other types. While they can change allegiance if won from their original master, they always bond strongly with the current owner. The dragon wand tends to be easiest to turn to the Dark Arts, though it will not incline that way of its own accord. It is also the most prone of the three cores to accidents, being somewhat temperamental.

Animagus: N/A

Misc magical abilities:

Legilimens: A natural born Legilimens, Reuben has the ability to sense people’s emotional states, allowing him to gain insight on how best to approach a situation. Even developing it further to be able to see through the eyes of people and animals.

Boggart form: His grandma calling him a disappointment.

Riddikiulus form: His grandma takes out a vial of babbling beverage, chugs it and proceeds to speak nonsense, something she would do to make him laugh if he was feeling down.

Amortentia (what do they smell like): Wood smoke and brandy.

Amortentia (what do they smell): Fresh grass and cloves.

Patronus: Jack Russel

Patronus memory: His grandfather bringing him a cake for his birthday.

Specialised/ Favourite spells:

Bombarda (Maxima): Only done as an absolute last resort if he’s dealing with a dragon that he can’t calm down. A charm that he’s practiced time and again in order to concentrate into a much more potent version.

Conjunctivitus curse: If a dragon is being aggressive but Reuben still has a way out, this his go-to spell. Blinding them can give him a chance to get out safely.

Duro: Useful for strengthening materials used in enrichment for the dragons or just making them more resilient.

Finite: Doesn’t wish to have the debilitating effects of the Conjunctivitus curse or Incarcerous be permanent, so uses this to dispel them when he needs to.

Incarcerous: Summoning ropes to bind or restrain something is always handy to have.

Incendio: Being able to concentrate it into a powerful gout of fire is one way to get a dragon’s attention.

Reparo: Always a handy spell to have when you can just repair a worn or broken piece of equipment. Reuben scarcely needs to throw out his work clothes thanks to this.

#harry potter hogwarts legacy #hphl #hphl mc #hphl oc #reuben willows

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sheerfreesia007 · 4 years ago

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Most Magical Birthday On Earth

Title: Most Magical Birthday On Earth

Fandom: Kingsman

Pairing: Agent Whiskey x Reader

Author: @sheerfreesia007

Words: 4,054 (Y’all can enjoy that. Haha!)

Warnings: Fluff, just tooth rotting fluff

Permanent Tag List: @paintballkid711, @fioccodineveautunnale, @phoenixhalliwell, @synystersilenceinblacknwhite

Author Notes: The International Gang of Mischief is together in fic! I absolutely loved writing this. It was a true labor of love for me. I hope you did you all justice. This was so much fun to write and I think it’s a fitting ending for the day. I don’t even know if this is my longest fic word wise in one shot. All together I know FAIY takes that cake (it’s over 100,000 words!!) but this might be the longest one shot I’ve done if I’m not mistaken. ANYWAY I hope you all enjoyed today! I know I did while writing these. Thank you for celebrating with me today! Too many more birthdays! P.S: The Welsh Dragon is an actual drink at the Rose and Crown Pub and I haven’t tried it yet but when I make it back to Epcot I will drink one in your honor ladies and take pictures of it.

Gif Credit: google

“Jack is this really necessary?” you asked as you sat on the couch in the Statesman jet. Jack was readjusting the blindfold over your eyes so that you couldn’t see anything.

“Yes, it’s necessary I don’t want to spoil your surprise. I and Tequila have been working on it for the better part of three months.” he said on a sigh. You sat there shocked not realizing all the work your boyfriend and best friend put into your birthday vacation. Jack had just told you this morning to pack for a warm climate and for a whole weekend with at least one fancy dress. He had then swept you off in the Statesman jet explaining that Tequila would meet you two there since he had to pick up your first birthday surprise.

But now the jet had landed and Jack had immediately put the blindfold over your eyes so that couldn't see. You felt him lean forward and press a soft kiss to your lips. When he pulled away you smiled lovingly.

"What was that for?" You asked softly and he chuckled lightly.

"It's probably gonna be the last time we kiss until later on tonight. You're gonna be quite busy today sweetheart." He said knowingly before pressing another sweet kiss to your lips. "Couldn't help myself." He explained softly and you laughed delighted. His hands then gripped yours and helped you stand. "C'mon then sweetheart I'm gonna slowly walk you out of the jet."

And he did, once you had stepped out the air conditioned jet the heat and humidity hit your body making sweat immediately bead on your skin. Your feet had finally hit the tarmac and Jack easily guided you along. Your hand was tucked in his elbow and you were pressed to his side looking for reassurance in your steps. You could hear voices not far off and when you stepped closer they all stopped talking making you a little self conscious.

"Oh my goodness it's Whiskey!" Came a soft squeal that you knew immediately. Loud groans were heard as your hand came up quickly to whip the blindfold from your face and your eyes took a moment to focus.

"Bubbles! You weren't supposed to ruin it!" Hissed Sparkles and the grin that spread across your face was reflected on five other faces standing only a few feet away from you. Lizzard stood in front and quickly held her arms open. Your grin never ceased as you bolted over to them quickly being engulfed in the group of women. Tears pricked your eyes as they greeted you and wished you a happy birthday. You were being passed from first Lizzard then to Flames who's fiery red hair curled in front of your face making you burst out in a watery chuckle. Then it was Scrubs who held you close as she squealed softly and rocked you from side to side. Bubbles was next and you could hear Tequila muttering behind you.

"It's like their twins, just American and British. Whiskey there's two of them!" His words made both you and Bubbles chuckle happily.

You then turned to Sparkles, who you considered to be the leader of the group, and again with tears in your eyes you hugged her tightly.

"I was hoping for a better bloody surprise but it was ruined." She said kindly and you laughed softly before pulling away.

"Best surprise I've ever gotten." You responded before hugging her once again.

"Well be prepared ladies we've got more surprises yet!" Called Tequila. You turned to look at him without leaving Sparkles arms.

"Where are we?" You asked suddenly.

"Florida." Said Flames matter of factly and Tequila groaned loudly before throwing his hands up.

"That's it! Whiskey you're in charge! It was damn chaos goin' and gettin' them from the airport! It's like herding cats with this group. One wants to go this way, the other wants to take a million pictures, and another just wanted to take it all in! They're a fun group but Jesus, Mary and Joseph! They're gonna give me gray hairs!" Tequila burst out in a rant as his hands gestured to different members of your group. You grinned as you watched Lizzard sidle up next to you and slung an arm around your waist.

"Is he always this bloody dramatic?" She asked low enough for just you and Sparkles to hear making the two of you burst out in laughter.

"Sometimes." You said with a shrug that made the two of them laugh. "Wait a minute?! Are we going to Disney?!" You cried out suddenly and both Whiskey and Tequila turned to you with crestfallen looks.

"It was supposed to be a surprise damnit!" Tequila shouted and threw his hands up again. You pulled away from Sparkles and tugged Tequila into a tight hug.

"You know I don't do well with surprises, but I appreciate the effort. If we're going to Disney you're my bestest best friend ever." You said into his shoulder.

"Yes, we're going to Disney." Tequila said kindly as he hugged you back. "Bestest best friend ever." Squealing you bounced on your toes in his arms.

"Oh! Oh! We have to go on Space Mountain and the Haunted house ride!" You began naming excitedly and Tequila laughed as your excitement began to infect the whole group as you all began talking about what you wanted to do first.

“Alright, alright. Before we start making plans let’s go over a few things.” Whiskey called out over everyone. You all turned to him expectantly and he blinked owlishly at you all. “Okay, so we’ve got dinner reservations at Restaurant Marrakesh at six and I’d like to go get drinks at the Rose and Crown pub beforehand if y’all are alright with that.” You smiled and nodded your head eagerly at him.

“That gives us plenty of time to get some roller coasters and other rides in before we’d head over to the Rose and Crown.” you said knowledgeably. Just as you had finished talking a large black SUV pulled up alongside Whiskey and he smiled as he opened up the back door.

“Alright everyone get in we’ve got just enough time to drive to the park before it opens.” he said with a wide smile. You squealed as you broke away from the group and ran for the car. Pecking Jack on the cheek you quickly climbed in and he chuckled at your enthusiasm.

The drive from the airport wasn’t very long and as you continued to get closer and closer to the park you began to vibrate in your seat in the back. You were sitting up against the window and right next to Scrubs. The whole group of you were figuring out which rides would be best to include everyone so that you all enjoyed yourselves. It was quickly decided that you, Tequila, Lizzard and Flames were the daredevils and would go on at least two roller coasters and then the rest of the rides would be others. You had told them that the must go ons were Pirates of the Carribean, Under the Sea: Journey of the Little Mermaid, Haunted Mansion, the carousel, and Peter Pan’s Flight. Everything else was up in the air. The one that you refused and immediately took off the table was It’s a Small World, that ride would drive you bonkers for days afterwards and you were not a fan of having that dang song stuck in your head for days on end.

So with that game plan in mind y’all got to the park as early as you possibly could and as you were driving under that all too familiar canopy that led into the park you couldn’t help yourself but grab onto Scrubs in excitement. She grinned over at you and slung her arm around your shoulders.

“Happy Birthday love.” she said softly and hugged you into her side tightly.

“Thanks sweetheart. I’m so glad you’re all here.” you said happily and saw a few of the other girls nodding their heads.

“It was all Whiskey’s idea. He knew it’d be a wonderful surprise for you and got in touch with Sparkles to set it up where we could all come celebrate with you.” Scrubs explained and your eyes darted to the rearview mirror where you saw Whiskey looking back at you. You could feel your cheeks heating up in a blush and saw his wide grin before he winked at you and turned back to the road.

Not long after entering the park area the SUV was directed towards the preferred parking and you smiled knowing that Whiskey was pulling out all the stops for your birthday. Once the car was finally parked you all piled out and walked to the front turnstiles where you’d be checked into the park and your bags would be checked.

You waited patiently as Whiskey picked up all of your tickets and the bands that you all would be wearing while in the park. Once he had gathered them all he began handing them out and you noticed that each band had your favorite princess on it. Smiling you watched as he handed Sparkles her Belle band, Bubbles got Cinderella, Flames was of course Merida, Lizzard was Rapunzel, Scrubs was Jasmine, Tequila was Stitch, Whiskey was Mickey Mouse and you were Minnie Mouse. Once all the girls saw that they all snickered behind their hands and you grinned before sidling up to Whiskey’s side hugging him loosely. He grinned down at you and pressed a soft kiss to your lips while everyone else made obnoxious kissing noises at the two of you. You laughed when you pulled away and grabbed Flames’ hand dragging her towards the Ferry line where everyone followed you.

Your whole group gravitated towards the front of the ferry and stood at the railing waiting for the ferry to leave the dock. Other park goers are filling up the ferry and the whole group moves to stay together and you’re all standing in a group at the railing. When the ferry finally takes off the group is just idly chatting about anything that comes to mind and soon you’re standing next to Sparkles when the far off castle comes into view. Your eyes dart to her face and watch as the joy falls over her face at seeing the castle.

“Oh it’s so pretty.” she says softly and you nod eagerly.

“Wait til you see it up close.” you respond with a grin.

The ferry ride doesn’t take very long to get the actual park and once you’re all out and through the little check in kiosks you’re all gathering in a group as Whiskey grabs a map.

“So which way are we headed to first?” Whiskey asks as he looks at the map.

“Well first we have to go get our ears and then we can head to the rides. But we’re going to go left first and make our way around the park.” you said easily and began leading everyone over to the large gift shop where they made the Mickey ear hats. Once inside the store everyone all gazed around in awe at all the different kinds of Mickey ears. But your eyes immediately landed on the ears that had clear Mickey ears with confetti on them, a birthday cake in the middle of the ears, and the words “Best Birthday Ever” on the front. Picking up a pair of them you quickly moved to the register where you asked to have your name stitched on the backside. As you were going to pay another pair of Mickey ears landed on top of yours and you turned to see Whiskey standing next to you. He had picked up a classic Mickey ears.

“ I’d like to add this to the bill please.” he said easily as he fished out his wallet.

“Whiskey, you don’t have to pay for my ears.” you said softly and he shook his head at you.

“Nonsense, the birthday girl doesn’t pay for anything this weekend while we’re here.” he responded. You all waited as your names were stitched into each of your hats and you laughed brightly when Whiskey swapped his familiar Stetson for his Mickey ears. His arm swung around your shoulder as you continued to laugh and dragged you close to his body before he pressed a soft kiss to your temple. “I love hearing your laughter. I’m glad you’re having fun already.”

“Thank you for all of this. It’s absolutely wonderful.” you said softly to him with a wide grin on your lips. He nodded his head and leaned down to slide his nose against yours gently.

“Alright c’mon you two love birds we’re all done!” called Tequila and you smiled turning to the group waiting by the doors. You watched as each woman had a knowing smirk on their face and you rolled your eyes at them before gripping Whiskey’s hand and pulling him along with you.

Your first stop was in Adventureland where all eight of you got onto the Aladdin’s Magic Carpet Ride. With two to a compartment you wound up next to Scrubs who demanded that you not lift the carpet into the air, you laughed and held your hands up in surrender. As the ride started Scrubs watched as the others’ carpets all rose in the air and she looked over to you, you shook your head and she sighed softly.

“Only a little bit.” she said and you did as she asked, raising the carpet only a little bit and she smiled widely. Once the ride had stopped Scrubs climbed out and stood close to you. “Thank you.” You smiled happily at her and hooked your arm around hers and began leading the group over to the Pirates’ ride.

The hours sped by quickly and as your group walked into Fantasyland you knew it was going to be your last stop here. Y’all had managed to get fast passes for Space Mountain earlier and had already ridden it so Fantasyland was going to truly be your last stop. As you walked into the Princess Fairytale Hall you could see the exhaustion starting to show on their faces. Tequila was as wired as he was when y’all first walked in and his eyes danced around the room as he walked in but everyone else was starting to look like they were going to crash soon.

You looked over to Whiskey and saw him smile softly at you and you nodded your head at him before stepping closer.

“This is gonna be our last stop for the park. Everyone’s looking worn out.” you said softly and he looked down at you worried.

“Are you sure?” he asked softly and you nodded.

“Yeah, we’ve gone on everything that we planned to and a few other rides. Plus I think once everyone sees where we’re going for drinks they’ll perk up before dinner and the fireworks.” you say with a kind smile on your face.

“Did you get to do everything you wanted sweetheart?” he asked softly and you nodded your head as you wrapped your arms around his waist.

“I did and so much more.” you responded and he grinned down at you before pressing a soft kiss to your lips. Just then a loud squeal filled the air and the two of you pulled apart to see Bubbles excitedly bouncing on her toes as Cinderella walked into the room.

The next hour was spent greeting and talking with each princess and taking photos with all of them. You knew the photos would be momentos that each and everyone of you cherished. Whiskey had even gotten in some of the photos with Tequila which had made you all cackle as since all the princesses swooned over him making Tequila jealous.

Once you were all done with seeing the princesses you led the group over to the train that went around the whole park and you heard a loud audible appreciative groan come from everyone that made you burst into laughter. They were all tired and were ready for a sit down. The train came not long after you all stood in line and as you were standing next to Lizzard you watched her sway a little and you placed a hand on her back.

“Almost there sweetheart. Soon we’ll go drinking in a place that should be familiar to y’all.” you said kindly to her and she grinned over at you before you all boarded the train.

“So this train goes around the whole park?” Flames asked excitedly.

“Yeah but the back area is all woods and you don’t see much.” you explained as you turned in your seat to talk to her. You turned back around when you felt a hand fall onto your right thigh and looked over to see Whiskey smiling at you. You rested your head against his shoulder and just watched as the train traveled along its track.

Once the train had stopped at the main entrance station it had seemed as if your group was rejuvenated a little. Y’all made your way to the exit gates and easily boarded the monorail that was luckily waiting there. You made sure to get on the one that would bring you to Epcot and you all found seats together so that you wouldn’t be separated.

The monorail ride was roughly about half an hour so the group easily caught up with what was their favorite part of the day and the tired smiles slowly began turning into excited happy smiles as everyone was able to rest their tired feet and relax a little bit in the air conditioned rail car. You were sat in between Sparkles and Bubbles as the two of them gazed out of the large windows watching everything that traveled past. When it was time for everyone to leave so that you could enter Epcot everyone got up with an excited energy hanging around the group.

You all went through the check in gates one more time and Whiskey stepped away for a moment as he made a phone call before he came back to the group. He walked next to you and smoothly held your hand with his. Grinning up at him you happily swung your hands in between each other as you led the group into the park.

When you came to stop in front of the Rose and Crown pub you were met with silence before loud squeals filled the air and you were being rushed into the English themed bar and restaurant. You laughed as the whole group of you found a table that would be able to seat you all and everyone grabbed a menu.

“Oh that’s a no brainer.” Scrubs said with a smirk and you grinned over at her as your eyes found the drink you would all be getting. When the waitress came over you smiled politely at her before Flames spoke up.

“Right, all of us ladies are gonna have the Welsh Dragon and Tequila here is gonna Cider and Fireball while Whiskey over there is gonna have Leaping Leprechaun.” she said proudly with a nod of her head. When everyone nodded their heads in agreement the waitress eagerly left to put in your drink orders.

“So Siren, having a good birthday?” asked Bubbles from across the table and you smiled nodding your head.

“It’s the best.” you said and they all laughed as Whiskey adjusted your Mickey ears on your head so they sat straight on your head. When the drinks came you all continued your conversation and time passed slowly as you all just enjoyed your time together in the loud boisterous busy pub. Whiskey looked down at his watch as he finished the last of his drink and then looked up at all of you.

“Alright finish your drinks we’ve got to head over to the restaurant for dinner.” he said adamantly and you all easily finished your drinks.

You felt the excitement fill you as your group walked through your favorite part of the park. It was back here in the Morocco part of the park that your favorite restaurant sat. And while walking through the area you couldn’t help but to admire the detail that Disney had put into making the area feel authentic. Or as authentic as you believed it to be without ever visiting Morocco.

Sitting down at your table you smiled as the dim lighting cast a glow over everyone at the table. You were sitting in between Sparkles and Flames at the head of the table across from Whiskey who sat at the other head of the table. He sent you a wink and you grinned happily. Soon your food and drinks were ordered and everyone was gazing around talking about the decor when you heard the music begin to play. Turning in your seat you watched as a belly dancer came out in the middle of the restaurant and began to dance along to the music. The jingle of the dress around her hips kept in beat with the music and you clapped along as she danced. Everyone was enraptured with her dance moves and when she finished everyone clapped and cheered loudly for her.

Not long after the food came out along with a refill of your drinks. Conversation slowed and you were happy to eat and just look around the table full of your loved ones. This truly was a magical birthday and you couldn’t be more grateful for the people around you.

Suddenly you heard loud singing coming from behind you and you ducked your head sheepishly as grins appeared on every face around you. The wait staff came by with a plate held up with a small desert and candle stuck in the middle. As the singing ended you laughed and blew out your candle as cheers rang out in the air. You shook your head as a blush heated your skin and your eyes darted over to Whiskey across the table who was grinning at you with happy eyes.

“Happy Birthday Siren!” cheered out Sparkles as she held her glass up in the air. Everyone followed suit and you clink your glass with everyone.

Walking out of the restaurant you grabbed onto Whiskey’s wrist and moved it so you could glance at his watch. It read eight thirty. You quickly slipped your fingers in between his and turned to the group.

“So the fireworks start in half an hour. I'd like to get a good spot and I know others will be already lining up around the railings so let’s all go find a spot to watch them.” you instructed easily and the group quickly moved to see if they could all find a spot large enough for everyone. Luckily you didn’t have to go too far to find a big enough spot to view the fireworks and as your group moved in front of the Japan area you quickly found a spot to gather against the railing.

Standing between Lizzard and Tequila you felt arms wrap around your middle and a sturdy chest press to your back. You smiled warmly as you leaned back into Whiskey and he pressed his lips to your ear.

“Did you have a good day?” he asked softly into your ear and grinned nodding your head.

“The best day ever.” you responded as your hands came up to cover his own.

“Good I’m glad.” he whispered into your ear. Soon the sky was darkening and a hush came over the park as everyone waited for the fireworks show to begin. When it did begin everyone gasped in awe at the display of pyrotechnics that lit up the sky. You felt Whiskey’s breath graze against your neck and you felt a peacefulness come over you as your eyes watched the fireworks explode in the sky. “I love you sweetheart.” he whispered into your ear as the finale of the display began and you tilted your head back to look up at him and he grinned leaning down to press his lips to yours in a loving kiss.

“I love you too.” you responded back once you had pulled away as the last firework went off.

#my writing #birthday indulgence #agent whiskey #agent whiskey x reader #kingsman the golden circle

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lynyrdwrites · 5 years ago

Text

In the Bones

Here is some dragon dungeon porn that is super late and written for @thetourguidebarbie. Pretty sure this was supposed to be your birthday gift about two years ago... my bad? Also for @goldcaught, in the hopes it will give you a few minutes of distraction.

It can be found on AO3 here, if you prefer that.

---

There was a rumbling beneath the town.

It wasn’t the type that could be heard for miles. In fact, anyone visiting wouldn’t have heard it at all. But those that had grown up in the town? Who had cut their first teeth listening to stories of bygone eras and the monsters that once ruled them?

They could feel the rumbling in their very bones.

The young ones – the stupid ones – they wrote it off as paranoia because their grandmothers were so good at spinning tales. Their parents laughed it off, and then spoke in hushed voices when their children were turned away, gone off to play again.

The elders knew they had to do something about it.

And Caroline Forbes?

Caroline was one of those visitors, the ones that couldn’t sense that rumbling at all.

Shouldn’t sense that rumbling at all.

Yet as she sat in a coffee shop and talked to a woman who had to be at least 80 about the rumors of a cult that had set up shop in the caves beyond the village during the turn of the century… well, she saw something in that old woman’s eyes. She heard the whispers that she couldn’t quite make out.

And something deep, deep in her bones made her shiver.

---

It was cold.

It was so, so very cold.

It should be warm. The bed in the cute little BnB where she was renting a room had been almost stifling in its warmth. It had been enough to make her a bit light-headed, compounded by the headache that had begun to pound in her temples, seemingly in time to the rumbling she swore she felt, but that no one else seemed to notice.

She tried to curl up, to pull the blanket tighter around her, only to find that there was nothing there. Nothing but cold and hard, damp stone.

Caroline pushed herself up into a sitting position and tried to swallow back the panic that threatened to rise in her throat and choke her. She had taken lessons about this; Shelia made any international journalist on her team take lessons on hostage situations and kidnapping scenarios.

Rule one was always don’t panic.

Easy to say. But Caroline doubted very much that any of those instructors had ever actually found themselves kidnapped – taken hostage? – because if they had, they would have spent more time on explaining exactly how one didn’t panic.

She took deep breaths, and looked around with frantic eyes, trying to calm her racing heart while taking in her surroundings. Her eyes had begun to adjust to the dark, letting her see the outline of cold stone.

Was she in a cave?

She cringed, because she had nothing on her feet. She wasn’t some heathen that slept in socks, although she wished, in that moment, that she was. She shuffled along, until she could grip the stone wall, letting out a yelp when a particularly sharp stone dug into the bottom of her bare foot.

It was followed by a disgusted moan when she realized the stone of the walls was wet.

She hoped it was water. Please, let it just be water.

“What the hell is going on?” she muttered darkly, shuffling slowly along the cave, her hands hovering just over the wall and its wet surface. At least if she shuffled, she shouldn’t step on any more stones. Her foot stung, and she tried hard not to worry about the skin being broken, and what gross diseases she was picking up if it were.

She heard stone grind, a sound that made her wince, and she hesitated. That sound meant there was probably someone else here, but Caroline had also seen enough horror movies to wonder if she wanted to actually meet that someone else.

In the end, desire to get the hell out won over fear of coming face to face with Jason, and she shuffled towards the noise.

At some point, it came to a stop, and after a few more minutes of shuffling, Caroline found herself coming up against more stone.

Stone with a handle that, when she tugged, moved exactly nowhere.

She had a terrible feeling that her only way out was behind that stone, and the fact that someone had apparently locked her behind it brought panic back to the surface. This time, she didn’t bother trying to fight it.

“Let me out!” she shrieked, pounding with her palm. The stone was rough and scraped against her palm, and she hissed when she slapped a sharp edge. She recoiled and clutched her hand, curled into a fist, against her chest. She didn’t need to see it clearly, to know that blood was welling.

And still, there was no response from the other side of the stone wall.

Somewhere behind her, she heard something move. It was faint, and at first Caroline was sure that she was just imagining it. But then she heard it again – a slide over stone. Not the screech of stone on stone that the wall had made, but a fainter noise, one that sent a chill down Caroline’s spine. That rumble she had felt in her bones disappeared, replaced by something more terrifying.

The certainty that she wasn’t alone in that cave.

She gave another useless tug at the wall, and winced when it tugged at her injured hand. She flexed it, and then began to shuffle down the cave again. Heading towards the noise was not an ideal scenario, but the alternative was to stand with her back, literally, to a wall while she hyperventilated and panicked and created the absolute worst scenarios in her mind.

Probably better to just face down the noise and hope it wasn’t a serial killer.

As she moved, her mind began to calm. These had to be the caves she had come to investigate. The cult caves. There were rumors of human sacrifice to Pagan Gods. She was pretty sure it wasn’t a God making that sliding noise that grew louder as she moved towards it. There had to be another corridor in this stupid cave. One that would take her away from that noise. The locals claimed the caves were a maze; one in which visitors often became lost.

At the time, it had seemed like a valid explanation of the odd disappearances – far more logical than Pagan Gods, but not quite logical enough to discard the Cult angle entirely. But these seemed more like a straight line than a maze, and her steps began to falter when the sliding became closer with no other exit in sight.

It sounded like something was moving. Or rather, like multiple things were moving. One thing couldn’t make that much noise.

Not unless it was a very, very large thing.

She stopped walking, her fingers clutching the wall of the cave. She glanced back, and thought about turning around. But she’d already been there, and escape wasn’t to be found. That meant she really just had one final choice.

To be horror movie stupid.

“Hello?” she called out, taking a hesitant step towards the noise. The shifting paused, and Caroline dared to take another step forward. “I need… help.”

It felt so lame, calling out like that, and now that the noise had stopped, everything in the cave seemed so eerie. In the back of her mind, Caroline imagined dramatic horror moving swelling.

If some axe wielding maniac ended up jumping in front of her, she was going to… well, die.

But she’d haunt his murderous ass.

The noise began again, but it was different. Until it was just a shuffle, like the sound of feet on the dirt floor. All her muscles quivered with a tension she couldn’t explain. Was this what a deer felt like? Caroline remembered going on a singular, disastrous hunting trip with her father. She was a good shot, but she hadn’t been willing to shoot freaking Bambi. They hadn’t spoken for months after that; their argument had been angry and explosive.

Now she could feel an empathy for that deer, one that went beyond being unable to shoot at big, brown eyes. Now she understood what it felt like, to feel danger in the air and not know if it was real, or if she was just going crazy. Was she being hunted? Or was it all her imagination?

Ahead of her, something moved in the shadows.

She knew there was nothing behind her, nowhere to hide, yet she ran anyway. Her flight instinct was apparently sharper than her fight one, and all she could think was she needed to get the hell out. She tore at the wall blocking her exit, not caring that she was tearing her nails down to the quick, turning them bloody, as she dug at the wall and pulled until her muscles strained.

The sound of a rock bouncing across the floor sounded like a shot behind her. It seemed louder than it should.

She gave another tug, and then dropped her arms, letting them hand uselessly at her sides. With resignation taking over for panic, she began to become of aware of the sting in her fingers. Her attempts to move the wall and left them raw and painful.

“You’re afraid.”

The voice was male, and accented. Not Welsh, like most of the people who lived in the village. But definitely British of some sort. She didn’t respond, just stared at the wall while tears stung the corners of her eyes.

She wasn’t alone in the world. Her mom would look for her eventually. So would Bonnie and Enzo. But that wouldn’t be right away; Caroline knew she wasn’t the best at maintaining contact when she was on a job. By the time they began to really worry, who knew where her body would be.

She’d probably be found, eventually. Just far, far too late.

There was a sigh behind her, and more steps. Whoever her likely murderer was, he put off a lot of heat. It made Caroline shiver. She hadn’t realized how cold she was thanks to the damp misery of the cave. Now that she was so close to someone so warm, goosebumps rose in response on her arms and legs.

“You’re an interesting gift.” The man was close enough that Caroline could feel the exhale of his breath as he spoke. “Your accent. It’s different.”

“I’m American,” Caroline replied. Her voice broke on the word, and it made her steel her spine. She might die here, but she wouldn’t do it wilting. She would get in at least one good punch.

She spun around, intending to surprise the man by going on the attack. She struck out with her knee, directing it to where the odds said his groin would likely be. It was caught in pale hands that held her still with a steely strength. Caroline cursed and swayed, fighting to stay upright on her free leg.

“You’re spirited,” the man mused, and he held Caroline’s leg a moment longer, before he dropped it. Light flared suddenly, and Caroline winced and closed her eyes. She opened them again slowly when nothing else happened, blinking as her eyes adjusted to the sudden light.

It was fire, she noted after a moment. Warm and orange and engulfing the man’s hand.

“Holy shit,” she muttered, staring at the limb that should be a gross mess of flaking skin and whatever gross fluids would result from it. Instead, there was just untouched skin. The man chuckled, a sound ripe with amusement, and drew Caroline’s gaze to his face.

“Holy shit,” she muttered again, because crazy axe murderers tended to be, like, mutated monsters that probably called their father daddy-uncle. This man didn’t look like he belonged in the Texas Chainsaw Massacre, though. He was…

He was hot.

Blonde curls and dimples that cut into his cheeks. He wasn’t much taller than Caroline, and his cheeks looked rough with scruff.

He was also completely stark naked.

“I… okay. Pants, maybe?” she spun around, and looked at the roof of the cave. It looked ominous, with the way the light from the fire caused shadows to form from the dips and crags. “I’d really rather not be killed by a naked murderer.”

“Am I killing you?” The man still sounded amused, and Caroline shot a scowl over her shoulder, quickly remembered he was freaking naked, and turned her head around again. “I wasn’t aware that was my intention.”

“Are you going to put on clothes or not?” Caroline demanded, her voice getting increasingly higher until the final word sounded entirely too freaked out.

But she was. She was really freaked out. Incredibly freaked out. And concentrating on the naked thing distracted her from the hand on fire thing, so she’d freak out over the damn naked thing.

Another sigh behind her, this one more irritated than anything, and okay, maybe irritating the guy that may or may not be a murderer wasn’t the best idea.

Something in the air shifted. Caroline couldn’t quite explain what it was, but the hair on her arms and the nape of her neck went on end, and she kept preternaturally still. It was like that sense of rumbling she’d had in town, only so much closer, and she knew if she turned around, she would never be able to un-see whatever was behind her.

She didn’t feel in control of her own body as she slowly – painfully slowly – turned back towards the man.

And instead came face to face with a beast.

The eyes were still blue, but the scales were black and grey, and horns protruded back from that scaley face – horns that looked almost as though they were made of silver. He was more serpentine than the stories would have her believe, but if the man had been like a space heater, it was nothing compared to this.

Nothing compared to the dragon.

Caroline stared up at him and she wanted to scream. But the sound caught in her throat, and she couldn’t move. Not until he nudged her, his skin hot beneath her touch, but rather than scalding her, it just made her feel warm.

She was crazy. She had to be so fucking crazy.

She stroked the scales between his eyes, surprised that they were softer and smoother than she had expected. There was a rumbling, and at first she thought it was the cave. But when she paused in her stroking, she got an unimpressed huff and another nudge, and the rumbling stopped. It had been the dragon. She started her stroking again.

He was purring.

---

The stench of fear had faded from her scent.

It left just the fresh, delicious smell of the woman herself. Contentment caused a deep rumble in his chest, and when her fingers stopped their heavenly stroking, he nudged her, a demand that she continue to stroke him.

He wasn’t normally affectionate, and he definitely wasn’t prone to letting strangers stroke him. But Klaus was a creature of instinct, and all his instincts were telling him to keep the woman. To take her to the horde he kept hidden in the heart of the old mountain cave and keep her there.

Humans ate meat, did they not? He was sure they did. Admittedly, he hadn’t bothered to pay attention to one in… well, centuries. But he was positive they did.

“You’re a handsome boy, aren’t you?” the woman asked, her fingers finding a particularly sensitive spot at the base of his horns, one that made his tail sway, hitting the sides of the cave with dangerous force that made him growl in irritation.

This part of the cave was entirely too small.

“What are you doing?” the woman asked, as Klaus cradled her carefully with his his talons against his chest. It took some maneuvering, to get turned around, and to head back to the hidden entrance to his horde. She struggled against his grip, and Klaus growled down at her. He was much larger in his True Form, of course, but not so giant that her struggling didn’t make carrying her difficult.

Didn’t she realize that she could cut herself if she moved like that. His talons were sharp, meant to tear his prey to shreds.

“Isn’t this just great,” she muttered to herself darkly, and it amused Klaus, to listen to her speak when she clearly thought he couldn’t hear. “Way to go Caroline. Death by imaginary creature… that’s going to be, like, the worst epitaph ever.”

She struggled a bit more, but stopped when Klaus huffed at her again.

Or… he thought that was why she had stopped. But then something sharp and stinging dug into his skin, between two of the scales that usually worked as excellent protection. He let out a pained shriek and released his hold on her – Caroline, he managed to think, even through his anger. She had called herself Caroline – and looked down at his claw, searching for what had caused the pain.

Caroline stumbled down the cave, and Klaus took a moment to roll his eyes. The only exit route was in his hoard, and she would never find that without him. He caught sight of something shiny between his scales, but his claws were too large to pull it out.

He changed back to his human form, and raised a brow when he saw what had caused the pain. He didn’t recognize it, but there was a strand of blonde hair caught on it, making him think it was some sort of hair pin. He didn’t know how she’d managed to make it so sharp so quickly, but he had to appreciate Caroline’s quick mind.

His instincts had chosen well for him. He glanced down the cave, where he could hear Caroline’s footsteps moving further. She would hit the next dead end before long.

He might be in his human form, but the teeth bared by his grin were viciously sharp and not human at all.

If she wanted to play a game, then he would play with her. A game of chase would keep him young, after all.

---

Thank whatever higher power might exist for cheap bobby pins.

Look, the dragon had been weirdly cute and all… but Caroline wasn’t about to just play possum while she got dragged back to its creepy lair and turned into a midnight snack. And that had to be the plan. It had to be the explanation for all those people that went missing.

The people in the village were clearly dirty lying liars… and, Caroline admitted, probably members of the rumored cult. No wonder no signs of it had been found; the members were the same people being questioned about it’s existence. And she could do exactly zero reporting on any of it, assuming she figured a way out alive.

No one would believe her if she told them about a dragon.

She found herself at another dead end. The cave behind her was entirely too quiet, and she knew the dragon would be on her in, like, ten seconds.

But there had to be a way out. This space was way too small for a giant lizard, and there was no sign of a space for its human form to sleep.

She did, however, find the first sign of sacrifice. Her foot caught on something hard, and she found herself landing hard on her stomach, face to face with a skull. Even in the dark she could recognize it, and it made her scream.

She scrambled backwards, and realized that she had stumbled onto the cave’s graveyard. Not the centuries worth of bones that should probably be there according to the rumors she had been chasing, but probably at least, like, a couple decade’s worth.

Jesus Christ – had the dragon eaten all them?

“Are you ok – oh.” The dragon came to a halt, once more in the form of the very attractive, very naked human male. “I suppose I should have tidied up. But I tend to lose track of when the mortals decide to send another one in here. The centuries, they fade together.”

“Centuries,” Caroline repeated faintly, clutching the wall of the cave. “And… did you seriously just say tidy up? Like you can just toss out bones like garbage and I would be okay with the fact that you eat people!”

The dragon let out a huff, one that didn’t sound quite human. He stepped towards Caroline, who looked around for an escape and when she, of course, came up short, bent down and grabbed what must have at some point been someone’s rib. She mentally asked the owner for forgiveness, but it was the only weapon she had, and she was not going to just become another pile of bones, thank-you very much.

The dragon stopped his forward motion and once more, fire flared around his hand, letting Caroline see the way he raised his brow at her. And illuminating the rest of him, and it was stupid that she found herself distracted by that, but sue her. He was so, so naked.

“I don’t recall the humans being so rude,” the dragon mused as he frowned at her slightly. “There was a lot of screaming, yes… but they never attacked me.”

“Well, gee, sorry for not just letting you eat me!”

“Humans taste terrible, Love. Even a hatchling knows that. If they don’t listen to their elders, they learn their lesson quickly.”

“Yes, because the pile of bones doesn’t tell me you’re a dirty liar!” Caroline snapped in reply. “You and that stupid village deserve each other!”

“I didn’t eat them,” the dragon replied irritated. He scratched his cheek with his index finger, and Caroline realized his nail was still long and black, like his claws in the dragon form. “Truth be told, I usually just slept until they stopped being so loud. It was rather rude of them, to come into my home uninvited” – he turned his gaze to her, his eyes becoming warm and welcoming – “though I find I’m not so disturbed by the interruption this once.”

“Are you flirting with me?” Caroline demanded, nearly lowering the rib, because the whole thing was just so surreal.

The dragon stared at her, and then cocked his head. The movement was once again just so… not human, and it was kind of weird, seeing it being done by someone who looked so human.

“I don’t know what that means,” he said at last. “Let us try this again. I am Klaus. This is the entrance to my horde. Now you say your name.”

“Caroline,” she blurted out, because what else did you say when a dragon was, apparently, giving a lecture about manners? “I’m Caroline. Forbes.”

And probably telling the giant lizard that might not be intent on killing her, but definitely had the ability to burn her alive, her name wasn’t the best idea. But what else was she supposed to do? She’d been raised right, after all.

If someone told you their name, you gave yours in return. It was just polite.

“Caroline Forbes,” Klaus repeated, looking as if he were savoring the feel of the syllables on his tongue. It was… weirdly attractive.

And God, what did it say about her that she found a dragon attractive? She was a human. She should really only be into humans. This was like… some Beauty and the Beast level of crazy, except at least the Beast was a human. Just cursed.

“Ah… you wouldn’t happen to be cursed into the whole dragon thing, would you?” she asked, waving her hand to encompass his everything.

“Cursed?” the word was filled with insulted derision and Klaus sneered at the mere thought. “Please. I haven’t been weak enough to be cursed in centuries.”

She wasn’t sure which part of that to unpack. Her weird attraction to someone who was, truly, not at all human… or that curses were apparently a Thing, even if they weren’t relevant to her situation.

He looked… mostly human. The fire thing was a bit crazy. And the claws. And she was pretty sure his teeth were entirely too sharp. But besides that… mostly human. So it was totally okay.

“Maybe you should go full lizard again,” she said at last. “You know, with the scales, and the horns… and the not having all that just hanging out there.”

Klaus glanced down idly at his naked form. He huffed again… and was that smoke coming out of his nose?

“You are oddly fixated on this form,” he noted at last, his brow furrowed slightly. “And keeping it covered. It irritates me.”

“I kind of don’t care,” Caroline responded, watching as he lifted his flame covered hand towards the cave wall. He ran his claws over it, and then tugged on what looked like any other rock protruding outward. It shifted downward, and the entire cave rumbled. Caroline gave a shriek and almost lost her balance, only for Klaus to catch her with one arm around her waist. He tugged her closer, and her palms rested against his warm shoulders.

Again, she was reminded of how cold she was, and she curled into his body before she could think better of it, reveling in his warmth.

“You’re too cold,” Klaus noted, and Caroline glanced at him to see that he was scowling, and then shrieked again when he suddenly lifted her with one arm.

They were almost the same height, and there couldn’t have been that much of a weight difference, but he made lifting her seem laughably easy. Her feet off the ground, the only halfway natural thing to do was wrap her legs around his waist. Of course, that left her pressed against his very, very naked body, and entirely too aware that even if he wasn’t actually a human, he definitely had all the parts one did.

“You should put me down,” she declared, staring towards the top of the cave. Klaus’ huff was warm against her throat as he began to walk. When they suddenly started to descend, Caroline startled and then realized the rumbling that had startled her was, apparently, the opening of a freaking trick door. “No! Nope. I’m not letting you take me down into the depths of your depraved lair. I’ve seen this movie, before.”

“I don’t know what that means,” Klaus retorted, much as he had after her accusation that he was flirting. He glanced at her once, their eyes meeting and catching for several beats of time, before he turned his gaze back towards the tunnel they were descending down. He adjusted his grip on her for a moment, pressing her tighter to the warmth of his chest.

Caroline pressed against that chest, and pushed her toes into his legs. For a moment, his grip just tightened, then he said something in a language she didn't understand. But the inflection made her pretty sure it was a curse, and she was on the ground again, teetering as her boots hit the edge of a step. She caught the wall to keep from tumbling down them backwards. Once she was balanced, she glared at him.

"Look, Nosferatu, you seem to not understand a lot of what I say, so let's make this simple. I want out. And if that isn't going to happen, then just end it here. Dragging it out is just cruel."

Klaus contemplated her, the flames on his hand casting flickering shadows over his face. It made him look aloof and dangerous, and his eyes looked black. Or maybe they were black now?

She couldn't really tell, and it's not like she'd made a study of dragons. This was outside her realm of expertise.

"I am cruel, Caroline. You had best learn that now. It will make everything go far more smoothly." He stepped around her, and continued down the steps. They were curved, and Caroline stayed there, until the flames here just a faint flickering around the curve ahead. She looked back up the steps, and carefully stepped up them.

Once again, her hand came in contact with stone. The opening had closed off once more.

She swallowed heavily, and leaned her head against the rough stone. She could feel tears stinging the backs of her eyes, and knew that she was standing on the edge of a complete breakdown.

She gritted her teeth and pushed away from the stone, turning to carefully make her way down the steps after Klaus. Caroline Forbes wasn't weak. She didn't just fall apart because the situation was difficult. She was strong, and she'd figure a way out of this.

She ran a finger under her eyes, wiping away the tears that had gathered, but not quite fallen, and straightened her spine. She wasn't going to go down crying.

---

Klaus halted when he had descended far enough that he knew Caroline would no longer be able to hear him. But he could hear her. He heard her climb up the steps, and he heard the faint noise of distress she made, when she realized the stone wall had slid back into place. He could scent salt water in the air, just faint and short-lived, but for a moment it had been there.

Tears. Not nearly as strong a scent as her blood had been, and even less appealing. The others had shed tears as well, but they'd had no affect on Klaus, except to cause the briefest moment of curiosity. He was sure he had cried at least once as a fledgling, but that was so long ago, and he no longer remembered what it had felt like. So he'd wondered, if it caused them more distress, to know that they were so weak that they couldn't even prevent their own eyes from leaking. The curiosity had been brief, however, and easily pushed to the back of his mind when he had instead immersed himself in his lair and forgotten them.

But Caroline's distress... he felt a tug in his chest. Was that where his heart was meant to be?

He was quite certain he didn't like it.

He stood in the middle of the steps, contemplating how he could make the damn organ he never thought of cease it's misbehavior when a stone skittered down the steps past him. Caroline had come up behind him, and he'd been so distracted he hadn't realized she was so close. He glanced back at her, but the salt scent was gone, and her eyes were completely dry as she glared down at him from her place three steps above him.

"Are we just going to stand here?" she asked stiffly, in a way that didn't at all suit her. He felt that Caroline was much more inclined towards the spontaneous outbursts that had characterized their interaction to this point. This was a woman trying to push down emotions and take control of the situation. It made Klaus grit his teeth and turn away from her, continuing down the steps.

"Of course not," he replied, already trying to think of ways to return her to her previous behavior. She was meant to be his, which meant she was meant to behave naturally with him. That she didn't recognize what his every instinct told him was irritating. Humans, and their inexplicable urge to ignore what was meant to be.

It was one thing to be master of one's fate; it was another thing to ignore something that would never be changed.

"Wait a second. Are you mad at me?" The shocked disbelief in her voice made Klaus smirk. He had a feeling he should be glad that he had his back to her; this was the response he wanted, and he thought the smirk might have ruined the whole thing. "You can't be mad at me! I'm the one who was kidnapped!"

"Ah, yes. The kidnapping. You see, Love, since I'm not the one that... kidnapped you, I'm not entirely sure what you thing your anger will gain from me."

"What my ang - my freedom, you asshole! Obviously I want to be out of this place. It's cold, and wet, and I'm still pretty sure that I might lose my foot to whatever gross bacteria call this place home!"

It was on the tip of his tongue to ask what a bacteria was, but he suspected it would just take them down another rabbit hole that would distract them from what really mattered. That she was his. He knew it in his blood and bones, and he knew that she had to know it, too.

She was clever, his Caroline. Even if she might try to deny what her own blood and bones were whispering to her. Her human nature would demand as much from her. He would simply have to charm her out of listening to that foolish human nature of hers, and awaken the wild instincts he knew must exist within her. After all, Klaus would never be so drawn to a woman who lacked a monster's darker instincts.

"Why should I let you go?" he asked after a beat of silence. He stopped, and Caroline bumped into his back. She let out a huff of frustration, but Klaus ignored it, spinning quickly to scoop her up in his free arm once more. She let out another surprised shriek that made him wince, but he continued down the steps, letting out his own annoyed huff when she started to struggle.

"Why do you keep picking me up?!" she demanded shoving at his chest.

"You're the one that mentioned... bacteria," Klaus replied, hesitating over the foreign word. He might not know what it was, but he wasn't a fool. Caroline had a clear distaste for it, thought it must be on the floors of the caves. "I am simply helping you avoid it."

When Caroline stopped struggling, but didn't immediately respond, Klaus glanced down at her. She was staring back at him, her eyes wide, and it felt like she could see right through to his tattered soul. The look made him stumble, though he was able to quickly catch his balance against the wall. His flames flickered out as he did so, however, leaving them in darkness. It took only a second for Klaus' eyes to adjust to the darkness, however, his sight as good as it had been in the flickering light of his fire.

He knew she couldn't see him, yet Caroline's gaze somehow remained lock to his, as though she knew exactly where his eyes must be.

It left him unsettled, and he tore his eyes away, igniting his flames once more. Caroline winced slightly, and looked away from the sudden brightness as Klaus continued towards his lair once more.

"I'm not going to stay here," she said at last, breaking their silence. "I have a home, and a family. People that care about."

You should care about me, was the thought in Klaus' mind, one that made him want to bare his fangs and snarl in possession. But Caroline wasn't done, and her next words extinguished that anger.

"But still... thanks. For keeping me clear of the bacteria and stuff."

---

It was the bare minimum, really. Keeping her off the floor until they finally reached what must have been their final destination. She deserved better, and she knew that. Maybe it was just her really shitty taste in men rearing its ugly head again - because Lord knew she had made some terrible decisions in that regard - but even though she knew it was, realistically, just the bare minimum... Caroline still found that she softened towards him, just a little bit, because of it.

Klaus had set her down, and moved away. Within moments, the new room was lit by flames on torches around them, and Caroline realized that her rather comfortable seat was what appeared to be a really, really old chair. One made out of stone, that was throne-like, because of course Klaus would have a throne. But underneath her was a super comfortable cushion, and she wondered where he got it. She didn't quite see Klaus sitting around making a pillow to sit on.

She looked away from the chair, to look around, and almost lost her breath. They had to still be in a cave, but it was almost impossible to tell that. Around them were beautifully carved shelves, and stacked on each were books.

Really old freaking books. Thousands of them. Most of them ones Caroline wouldn't even dare to touch, out of fear they'd crumble beneath her fingers. She had gotten to her feet and wandered towards those shelves and saw that there were some newer ones among them. With amused surprise, she even picked out a couple of paperbacks, with familiar titles. Stephen King appeared to be a modern favorite of his.

"You made it seem like you haven't been out of here in centuries," Caroline pointed out, reaching out to tug a copy of Cujo off the shelf and holding it up. Her dad had loved Stephen King. Caroline's tastes ventured more towards romance, and the one time she'd tried to read It, she'd had to give up. Crazy killer clowns weren't really her thing.

"There are... methods of getting books." Klaus looked around, his expression smug. "This is my hoard."

"You hoard books?" Caroline internally winced at how incredulous she sounded as Klaus looked at her, looking vaguely insulted.

"Why do you sound so surprised? Books hold knowledge, Caroline, and if I'm not to be part of the world, then they are the best way for me to learn of how the times change through the centuries."

It... held a certain sort of sense, she supposed. But she had read The Hobbit, okay? She knew what a dragon's hoard was meant to be.

"But what about the gold?" she blurted out, feeling all of her previously held beliefs about dragons slipping through her fingers.

Klaus sighed heavily, and then he was lifting the stone floor somehow.

A secret doorway.

Caroline peered down into a pit, and Klaus held his hand, engulfed in flame, over it, so the contents were illuminated.

And here was what she had expected. Precious stones and jewelry - although it seemed to be heavier on the silver, rather than the gold. Yet that didn't surprise Caroline as much as the books had. Klaus seemed like the type to prefer silver, somehow. She bent down and reached out, lifting up a necklace made of delicate silver lings, ending in an intricate charm that held a sapphire in its center. It was in perfect condition, yet that charm appeared old in its design.

"Do you like it?" Klaus asked, and Caroline looked up at him, feeling her cheeks flush. It was stupid, to be so entranced by something sparkly. It was something she would have done as a teenager. Fallen for a pretty necklace and a pretty face that hid someone that was absolutely Not Good for her. Someone that wasn't even human.

And just the thoughts made her uneasy, and she put the necklace back down and quickly retreated back to the bookshelves, and trying not to think about her teenage self and what her thoughts of comparisons might mean. Because it meant something really, really stupid that she shouldn't even consider. She stared hard at the spines of the books, not really seeing them as she tried to push any thoughts of emotions other than anger or fear and Klaus out of her mind.

He. Was. A. Dragon.

She wasn't into that. Really, she wasn't. Scales and claws weren't her thing. Even if the purring and the tail wagging had been sort of -

No.

She was so busy mentally berating herself, that she didn't pay any attention to Klaus until something delicate and cool was grazing her skin.

"What the-" she looked down in surprise, and blinked in confusion as she realized the silver necklace was around her neck, the charm not quite reaching the neckline of her tank top. She felt Klaus' fingers graze against the back of her neck, and then his touch was gone, the necklace settled against her skin. "Klaus..."

"It's yours, Caroline. The first of many."

She touched the charm gently. It was beautiful, and she'd be lying if she said she didn't like it. There was a reason she'd pulled it out of his secondary hoard, after all. But she had a feeling that this was an attempt to buy her affection - something Caroline was all too familiar with. How many years did her parents spend, trying to buy her happiness after their divorce, until finally they had given up?

Caroline's relationship with Liz was better, but Caroline and Bill had never managed to fully reconnect before he had died. And the years where he had tried to replace his love with money hadn't helped, when he had never tried to get to know the woman Caroline was growing into.

"Is this how you usually work?" she asked his back as he looked at the books, obviously pretending not to be paying her any mind, even though he clearly was. "Give a girl a pretty sparkly so she forgets that you're kind of holding her hostage?"

"You're not a hostage," Klaus replied, in what was probably meant to be a casual fashion. But his back had stiffened, and his tone was terse. Caroline crossed her arms and stared at his back, tapping her bare toes in irritation.

"Really? So you'll point me to the exit then?"

"Perhaps there isn't an exit. Perhaps we're both stuck here. Wouldn't it be best to get along with your fellow prisoner?"

"Yeah huh... except for all these books. And the cult that sends you sacrifices. It's a little late to try and play the fellow victim card, Klaus."

His shoulders moved up in a shrug, and Caroline sighed heavily. She reached behind her neck until her fingers found the clasp. She removed the necklace and held it carefully in her fingers, stepping up next to her. His entire expression tightened when she grasped his hand and placed the chain in it.

"This might surprise you, but my freedom isn't something that can be bought, Klaus. Maybe it was how humanity worked a billion years ago when you still cared about us, but we've evolved since then. Maybe you should try and catch up."

"I'm hardly that old, Love."

Caroline let out a soft snort, because apparently he was just going for top marks in the determinedly clueless department. Because if he was going to try and tell her that he genuinely believed that was what he should be focusing on, out of everything she had said.

But it wasn't her job to give him a clue, so instead she turned away and contemplated the books around her. With a slight wince, she reached out towards an old book, and tugged it down.

It landed on its side with a thud. Of course it did.

So she moved on to the next.

She repeated the process five times, purposely not replacing the books, even though leaving them out of place killed the small part of her that absolutely hated anything being out of place. But it wasn't her job to keep this lair neat. It wasn't her lair, after all.

After the fifth book went down, Klaus let out a snarl and then began to replace the books himself. He caught up as she knocked down the eighth, and spun her to look at him.

"What the bloody hell are you doing?" he demanded, getting into her face. She probably should have screamed and ran away. Not that long ago, she would have. Caroline tried not to think about what it said, that she wasn't frightened by the freaking dragon anymore. But in the back of her mind, thoughts of the teenage girl began again, an irritating reminder that the more things changed, the more they stayed the same.

"I'm looking for the way out," Caroline replied, focusing on her actions instead of her thoughts. Her thoughts would only lead to dumb decisions, like they always did. "In all the books and movies, there's a book that activates a switch that will open the bookshelf's secret exit. I figure with you being old and all, it will be in an older book."

"Oh for - there's no secret latch in the books, Love. There's just a damn doorway."

He pointed to where there was a gap between two bookshelves. She hadn't noticed it at first, distracted by the books and the throne and the jewelry. But now it was rather glaringly obvious. What wasn't obvious was the door way. Because it really just looked like a gap to her. She approached it, feeling around for a latch rock, like the one that had led down to the lair. She could feel Klaus' warmth at her back, yet he didn't stop her, when her fingers finally found the rock that moved, and the wall slid open.

Another staircase. She stepped onto the first one, and then paused. She told herself not to turn back, to keep going.

But Klaus didn't stop her, and she had to ask why. Because she was stupid and curious and...

God, but why did she still have to have so much of that teenage girl in her?

"You're going to let me go?" she asked, looking back at him. "After all that you're mine stuff?"

That stuff that she had rather blatantly ignored, but still noticed. And she'd hated how it made her feel a thrill instead of the distaste it should. She was a God damn modern woman who had grown to realize that her own strength was internal, not dependent on the man she was dating.

"For now," Klaus' expression was contemplative as he considered her. "If I kept you here, with me, would you be happy?"

"No," Caroline admitted, without a shred of doubt. Because she might feel drawn to him despite her better judgment, but being locked up wasn't a thing she'd ever be okay with.

"You are mine, Caroline. But I can give you time, to come to me yourself. And until then... perhaps it's time I remembered what humanity is like. It's been a while."

"You'll need clothes," Caroline pointed out, somewhat amused, but also surprised... because when had she stopped being so abashed by his nakedness? And now that she was reminded, her eyes drifted -

Nope. Nopenopenope.

Klaus chuckled, the sound warm and affectionate, and making a shiver go down her spine.

"I'm sure I can figure something out. Perhaps you'll help me out. You habits or foreign to me after all this time."

She knew he was putting on a show for him, but the look he gave her was shockingly effective, an almost boyish grin as he looked at her from under his eyelashes, dimples deep in his cheeks.

And shit...

She stepped back down, and framed his face in her hands. When she gave a soft tug, he let her pull him in, to press their lips together. It was soft. Exploratory. The kind of kiss that was really meant to be an ending - because this had been an interesting side trip into a fantastical world, but she fully intended to return to the BnB, get her passport, and the hell out of town before all of them realized their sacrifice had survived.

Then she would forget about it, because what else could she do?

But while she might mean for it to be a good-bye, Klaus clearly didn't agree.

And neither did her body.

She felt something fall to the ground, rub against her foot, right before Klaus grasped her hips with his hands, his claws digging in just enough to remind her they were there, but not enough to break skin. He pulled her flush against him and changed the angle of their kiss, taking it over. And her mind blanked as his tongue grazed against her lips, and instead of pushing him away, her hands clutched his naked shoulders and tried to pull him even closer.

It was as if all her good intentions and responsible thoughts disappeared as soon as their lips touched, and the good-bye became something that could only be called a beginning.

A passionate, heart-pounding hello.

She didn't realize they had moved until her back came in contact with one of the bookshelves. He broke the kiss, and Caroline let out a hiss of anger. She didn't want the kiss to end, not when he was so damn good at it.

But his lips stayed busy, and he found the sensitive spot on her neck, right where it met her shoulders, with hardly any effort at all. Her anger turned back into lust, and one of her hands moved from his shoulders, to clutch his hair as she angled her neck to help him as he sucked on that spot, and then nibbled up her neck, until he could nuzzle the soft skin beneath her ear. Caroline's body moved restlessly against his, and it was difficult to tell if it was his warmth, or her own blood pounding through her veins that made her clothes feel heavy and stifling and entire too much.

As if Klaus could somehow read her mind, her tank top was shoved up over her head and tossed aside. He kissed her again, while his hands moved up from her hips to cup her breasts, his thumps grazing her nipples, and drawing circles around them that made them harden and Caroline moan into his mouth. His claws added a thrill to the whole thing, knowing how sharp they were as he grazed them across her skin - never hurting, but always there.

"Hell," he muttered as he pulled his lips from hers and looked around, eyes almost wild. "I need to taste you."

"Wha-" the word was almost slurred and unfinished, replaced by a surprised gasp when Klaus lifted her and moved, so quickly the world seemed to blur around her, until she was placed back on that throne. Klaus had tossed the cushion aside, so there was just cold stone. She gasped when her skin came in contact with her, and it was with more surprise that she realized that, somehow, during that blur, he had managed to remove her shorts and underwear as well.

She was left as naked as he was, and his eyes were dark and hungry as he took a moment to look at her. He had placed her so she was slightly slumped, one of her legs over an arm of the throne, leaving her open to that hungry gaze. She was beginning to feel a bit embarrassed when he went to his knees before her. There was a thrill to it, the sight of him, filled with all that inhuman power, kneeling before her.

He grasped her ankles and hooked her knees over his shoulder, and she didn't care about the thrill anymore as he kissed his way up her thigh. She tugged at his hair, and tried to pull him to her pussy, to where she was wet and needy, but he just chuckled and looked up at her beneath his eye lashes as he continued those slow, wet kisses.

By the time he made his way to finally lick his way up to her clit, she was almost ready to murder him. But that talented tongue flicked over it, and her head fell back so she stared up at the roof, eyes closed as she let herself fall to the sensation.

A sharp, quick pain had her looking down at him. There was a prick of blood, where he had nipped her thigh to get her attention. He licked the blood away, and then licked his lips as she gazed at him.

"Eyes on me, Caroline. I want no doubt in your mind, as to who is doing this to you." Keeping his hungry gaze on hers, he went back to her pussy, his tongue working her clit as he began to thrust a finger in and out of her. She couldn't look away, and it was hard to breathe. Those teeth... his claws, that he somehow kept from doing any damage, even within her. The whole thing made her very aware of the danger.

And damn if that didn't make her even more wet. Because he could tear her throat out in a second.

But he wouldn't. That certainty she felt right to her bones, in an instinct she had been trying to ignore, even as it had directed so many of her actions towards him. And there was something beautifully heady, about knowing how much power he held in that body, and also knowing that, in a way he'd hate to admit, she was the one that truly held the power between them.

Her orgasm came, driven by his tongue and her own thoughts, and she clutched the arms of the throne with her hands, her eyelids fluttering. They wanted to close, but she knew what he wanted, and fought to maintain that eye contact.

"Good girl," he murmured, as her orgasm left her breathless and gasping and still looking down at him. He kissed along her thigh again, and down her leg as he got to his feet. In another quick move, he replaced Caroline on the seat of the throne, and instead she was straddling him.

She had a feeling that he was usually on top. She wondered if he realized the level of control he was giving her, with this position. Wondered if, come morning, he might care.

But he was still looking at her with hunger, and so she kissed him, and rubbed her pussy - still wet with her orgasm and his saliva - against his cock. It was already hard and impressive, and the head hit her clit just right, so that she moaned into that kiss. They broke apart, both panting, and they continued to make eye contact as Caroline reached between them, to grasp his cock and stroke it once... twice... and then slowly... slowly... she lowered herself down, until she was settled in his lap, his cock hard and hot inside of her. She stayed there like that for a moment, savoring the feeling of connection.

She had never felt connected like this to another person before. And here she was, feeling it with a dragon.

He grasped her hips, lifting her, and then pulling her down again. It took them a couple attempts, and a bit of rearranging, but soon they found a mutual rhythm, one that had them both groaning and clutching at each other. This time, she was pretty sure there might be some slices where his claws clutched her. But she didn't care. She dug her own nails into his shoulders, sure that she was drawing blood as well. As they both hit that climax, she couldn't keep her eyes open, not anymore, not with this. So she let her forehead rest against his, let the connection flow that way, and her eyes drifted shut as she hit that second orgasm, at the same time Klaus his, and he growled fiercely - a terrifying sound.

Caroline had never felt so... right.

She wasn't sure how long they remained there in the aftermath, still connected. both of them breathing hard.

"Still going to leave, Love?" Klaus finally asked, sounding somewhat smug. Caroline opened one why to glare at him, her head resting against his shoulder. She should probably leave on principle with him being a smartass... but she felt boneless, and was pretty sure her legs would in now way hold her up.

"Depends," she replied, her voice snarky. "Do you have a bed in this cave? Or do we just sleep on the floor."

His huff of amusement brushed against her damp skin. She was starting to grow a bit cold now that they were no longer... exercising, and she shivered. Klaus wrapped his arms around her, so she was firmly surrounded by his warmth.

"Sleep, Caroline. I'll make sure it's comfortable."

"I'm still leaving in the morning," she grumbled into his skin, but she was already beginning to drift off, her whole body feeling heavy.

"Of course, Love. I told you it was time I learned about humans again," she heard Klaus murmur in reply.

There was so much in those words that Caroline knew she would worry about in the morning. There was no way a dragon had a passport. And how would she explain it to Bonnie and Enzo, and even Shelia, when she came back minus a story.

No where in those thoughts did she really think about leaving him behind. Not again.

She'd think about that in the morning, too.

#Klaroline #Klaroline fic #thetourguidebarbie #dragon au #yes another one #but this time Klaus is the dragon

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erikacousland · 4 years ago

Text

Real weapons for Dragon Age: Origins characters: Loghain Mac Tir

Real weapons for:

Loghain Mac Tir

***

1. As a

Outlaw

A novel always is the best way to knowing characters, so I go to second time reading The Stolen Throne for this post. Lets see what I find about Loghain’s equipment:

He stood at the edge of the forest, absently wiping mud off his leathers.

…

He looked back into the forest, his hand grazing the sword belted at his side

- Dragon Age: The Stolen Throne. Chapter 1

He was cleaner than Maric remembered, and now wore armor fashioned from studded leather straps. It looked heavy, and the great bow slung over his shoulder was intimidating. Unusually good equipment for a poacher, Maric thought to himself.

- Dragon Age: The Stolen Throne. Chapter 2

First, I have NO idea what the… THING he wore was, sounds clearly more suitable for fetish shops than battlefields to me. And studded leather armor was just another fantasy myth, from D&D, I believe. (PLZ, fantasy writers, call the real name of a brigandine.)

Lore wise, it was a set of armor made from boiled leathers and normal soft leathers or fabric, and it will be thick, heavy, and very sturdy.

And, he wearing no helmet usually, once he wore one, only for cover his black hair and pretend he’s a blondie:

Loghain wore a fine linen shirt, shining boots, and a helmet to hide his black hair.

- Dragon Age: The Stolen Throne. Chapter 2

(Long awkward silence) It's really a worst insult to a helmet.

Leeeeet’s just moving to the topic:

Bow for Loghain the poacher:

The "great bow"… a knee-jerk reaction made think it's the Welsh longbow immediately. Yet considering most bows in DAO are flatbows, I'll giving him one like this.

75" (190 cm) flatbow as Loghain's great bow

Just a traditional flatbow, nothing fancy, only it's very big, almost as long as the owner's height. (Loghain was a very big, mighty looking man, from describe in DAO and the novels. He was nearly 2 metres in my head canon.) In the novel, the bow was being used killing people in battle - in short range - usually, hunting rabbits, and killed a snake in only few steps range with a quick, maybe only half draw.

Loghain grunted noncommittally. With a quick motion, he pulled an arrow from his quiver and fired it right past Maric’s head. Maric was so startled, he didn’t know what to think. He stepped back, and then jumped as he noticed something writhing on the tree behind him. He jumped even farther when he realized it was a shiny black snake at least as large as his arm. The arrow pierced it about a foot behind its head, staking it to the tree, where it frantically writhed.

- Dragon Age: The Stolen Throne. Chapter 3

So I don't think it will be a very heavy war bow, I'll set the draw weight between 80 and 100lbs. And Loghain was that level of strong and well-training can using it all day long, still with his peaceful breathing.

Oh, don't forget his bow was made from dark colour wood - anything about Loghain should be dark, vicious, and tempt. :3

Update:

Meare Heath Bow by Hilary Greenland as Loghain's great bow

Click the link, you can see the owner hold the Meare Heath bow (The uppermost one in the picture) to showing its size. It was magnificent, really "intimidating".

Like archers in real world battlefield, he fight with his bow and sword like:

Loghain grimaced and tossed aside his bow, drawing his sword. “Cover me,” he ordered the Night Elves as he leaped over the window’s ledge and sprinted into the street.

- Dragon Age: The Stolen Throne. Chapter 8

The last soldier turned and ran deeper into the forest, screaming in panic. Loghain grimaced and tossed his bloody sword aside. He casually unslung his longbow and notched an arrow, tracking the man as he fled. The shot sped past the trees, cleanly lodging deep into the soldier’s back. He grunted and fell, sliding through the mud and leaves before coming to a stop and not rising again.

- Dragon Age: The Stolen Throne. Chapter 11

YES! Archers, drop your delicate, precious bow, pick up a decent melee weapon when you go to a melee! (I'm looking at you, Leliana, and you, Hawkeye.)

Sword for Loghain the poacher:

In the novel, Loghain using his sword like:

Out of nowhere a man appeared, dressed in chain mail and wearing an undecipherable emblem on his blue tunic. His eyes widened in surprise and he was about to shout for help, but Loghain was too quick for him and ran the man through without slowing down. Loghain pushed the soldier off his sword with his boot, the man collapsing in a gurgling heap.

- Dragon Age: The Stolen Throne. Chapter 2

Minutes later it was over when Loghain came in low and unexpectedly thrust upward with his blade, disarming Rowan.

- Dragon Age: The Stolen Throne. Chapter 7

Loghain kicked one of the smaller creatures back into its fellows, knocking them down, and then began to stab with precise, clean blows.

…

Loghain did not let up, stabbing his blade deep into the back of a darkspawn that had turned away from him. The creature roared in pain as he kicked it off his sword and then turned to the next.

- Dragon Age: The Stolen Throne. Chapter 14

Loghain made no expression as he thrust the sword down into the man.

…

The third ran at Loghain, charging him at full speed as he shouted in a mix of rage and terror. Loghain frowned in annoyance at the man, quickly pulling his blade from the one he had just slain and thrusting it before him like a spear.

- Dragon Age: The Stolen Throne. Chapter 18

He was stab and thrust a lot… I… get it: he’s a very skilled swordsman, especially compared to someone "swung the blade in a wide arc" to his freeze target a lot.

And he even penetrated a mail armour and kill the person who wearing it! (Not a feat, though. Someone's chest bleeding, and he was wearing a Silverite plate armour in battle.)

I strongly believe, that Oakeshott type XIV is the type of sword for Loghain. And a knee-jerk reaction demand me giving Loghain this sword:

Albion Sherriff as Sword of Loghain the Outlaw

I mean just look at that shape of the blade! It's broad! It's BEEFY! It looks SOOO BIG!

It's actually only 86 cm… almost on the shorter end of spectrum for arming swords.

Good for a great skilled, cool nerves archer like Loghain I think - when he into melee after shooting a group charge cavalry face to face, he may wish his sword can get out from the scabbard as fast as possible.

And it’s a quick, nimble and accurate sword, perfect for fit his style of sword fighting in the novel.

So, in conclusion, it's a reliable, fine quality sword. Maybe was a sidearm of his father who was a veteran soldier. Or maybe just a trophy, that Loghain took from it's old owner who killed by him. I tend to the latter story.

Knife for Loghain the poacher:

Back to the age of medieval times, knives played an important part in the life of men of all classes. I'm very happy to see Loghain's "belt knife" has been mentioned few times in the novel:

“He’s lying!” Loghain seethed. He drew his belt knife and stepped forward menacingly.

- Dragon Age: The Stolen Throne. Chapter 2

Loghain drew his belt knife and hacked viciously at one of the low-hanging root tendrils that hovered near his head.

…

Loghain didn’t answer. He remained with his back turned, and for several minutes all he did was cut at low-hanging roots with his knife and toss them aside.

…

Loghain stepped up to it, drawing his belt knife and cutting off its head with some difficulty.

- Dragon Age: The Stolen Throne. Chapter 3

As a homeless poacher, Loghain's belt knife will be his camp knife, hunting knife, skinning knife, cooking knife, eating knife, sometimes he'll using it to killing people - all the things you can imagine a knife can do.

Half minute after I decided to add the knife's part to this post, I find the perfect picture to showing what I imagined about Loghain's belt knife:

Small medieval hunter by Szilard Csizmar as Loghain's belt knife

A rough forged knife, almost simplest for looking. After heavy duty services over the years, it may lose some steel during the countless times of resharp. (And still looks cool. :D Anything about Loghain should be tempt.)

A backstory in my head: the knife was Loghain's father bought for him, when he was a happy farm boy. He may also carved some silly graffiti on the leather sheath like this picture.

Update:

Highland Dirk with carved Beechwood handle by Flett Forge as Loghain's belt knife

Add some Historical spices.

***

2. As a

Rebel

Sword for Loghain, Commander of the rebel army:

After a big moment, the HERO need some cool stuff to replace his initial equipment. (What do you mean, that Maric was the hero of The Stolen Throne and there no cool stuff for Loghain?)

This was not from the novel, just my head canon:

After his awkward promotion (he was kneel and vowed to the half-naked prince), Maric or/and Arl Rendorn giving a new Silverite sword to Loghain.

It was custom for him, forged from trophies - small pieces of Silverite plate armor was made for fit some Orlesian noble's body, such as greaves - need reforge first, then can be reused.

Albion Sovereign as Sword of Commander Loghain

The Sovereign is the sword most suit for Loghain, in my opinion. Double-fullered type XIV blade have an unusual heroic spirit. It's should belong to a firm Hero - who will willing to do what is right, or, what is necessary.

He might openly rolling his eyes, growling for the sword looks unnecessary ornate for him. But in secret, Loghain fall in love with the sword for it's high quality and elegance lines. And take it as a great honour.

I can't imagine when Loghain wore only a "fine linen shirt" going to battle will without a shield…

Some medieval archers in history will carry a small buckler and using it with a sword in melee. For archer Loghain, this blackened Talhoffer buckler will be a great choice.

Blackened Talhofer Grand Master Buckler Shield as Loghain's shield

Like I said: dark, vicious, and tempt.

Just imagine a young Loghain fight with a sword and buckler and using the techniques of I:33…

***

3. As the

Hero of River Dane

Now, he's fully armored a set of Silverite plate, suddenly remember carry a shield in battle perhaps will be a good idea? (Battle rule 101: Put a helmet on your head, it was not designed for cover your hair.)

Armor of the River Dane

The Battle of River Dane in 8.99 Blessed, was fought against a superior force of Orlesian Chevaliers, ambushed by Ferelden rebels as they attempted a crossing of the River Dane. Loghain led that battle, and victoriously stripped the enchanted armor from the dead chevalier commander as a prize. The sight of Loghain wearing this armor became synonymous with Ferelden's defiance of Imperial rule.

Loghain's Shield

This was a gift, commissioned by King Maric to bestow upon his friend on the day he named him teyrn of Gwaren.

It is worth to notes that Loghain only wearing armor of the River Dane after the Battle of Ostagar - when he NEED to remind people he IS the Hero of River Dane. In The Calling and the prelude of DAO, the armor he wore like:

The dark-haired man standing next to him, in a suit of grey armor, looked much more like a king. That one had eyes like a hawk, and he followed their entry with an angry intensity.

- Dragon Age: The Calling chapter 1

Fereldan soldiers streamed into the chamber, dozens of them in heavy armor with the king’s golden banner on their shields. A number of them were bloodied, and they spread out instantly as if expecting a fight from those within. At their head was Teyrn Loghain. The man made for an imposing figure in his dark plate armor, his blade covered in red blood, and he held up his hand to halt the advancing soldiers as his cool blue eyes took in what had occurred.

- Dragon Age: The Calling chapter 19

What I said? Anything about Loghain should be dark, vicious, and tempt. :P

Sword for Hero of River Dane:

I can hard to believe he "stripped the enchanted armor from the dead chevalier commander" and wearing it, yet he didn't took the chevalier commander's sword? I believe that must was a good enchanted Silverite sword.

So this part also is my head canon:

Type XIV gold plated by Mateusz Sulowski as Sword of the River Dane

It’s reconstruction of Oakeshott type XIV sword from the Army Museum in Paris, One of the biggest type XIV sword in the world. The sword hold holy cross symbol on the pommel, and in all probability, its French origin.

So its Dragon Age version will hold the sun of Andrastian chantry, and its Orlesian origin - none of them can made Loghain exciting about this sword. :P He only carry it when he wearing the armor of the River Dane. Usually he'll using his old sword (the Sovereign).

A little back story: The sword was a heirloom of an important noble family of Orlais. It was blessed by a Divine centuries ago.

One funny thing worth to mention is, the original sword was share almost exactly the same special blade with the Oakeshott type XIV sword from the Metropolitan Museum in New York - also my very early choice for a Teyrn Loghain.

But despite that sword have many 'reconstructions', yet none of them can reproduce how magnificent it was. And…

Dracula, 1992

I know some people will love to call it the Dracula sword…

***

4. As a

Grey Warden

Like Alistair in the same situation, Loghain lose his fancy equipment in very exigency. But the sword is should be his own.

Sword for "The Traitor Teyrn"

I always gave Warden Loghain the Asturian's Might in the game (if I didn't cut his head off), only because it share the same model with his old sword.

Type XIV – big version by Mateusz Sulowski as Asturian's Might

Asturian's Might

Asturian's Might, forged for Warden Commander Asturian by dwarven smiths and presented to him upon the completion of Soldier's Peak.

From the name, it will looks… mighty? No single hand sword will looks mightier than the big type XIV. :P

Size comparison of big and common Oakeshott Type XIV swords by Peter Johnsson.

Update:

In'Carius Craft Oakeshott Type XIV as Asturian's Might

Double-fullered, big Oakeshott Type XIV was the perfect picture in my mind for Warden Loghain.

#Dragon Age: Origins #Dragon Age: Inquisition #Dragon Age #Loghain Mac Tir #the S&N #Real weapons for Dragon Age characters

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minervacasterly · 4 years ago

Photo

Henry VII's Coronation: The Red Dragon and the Beauforts' Triumph

On the 30th of October 1485, two months after he won the battle of Bosworth, Henry Tudor, Earl of Richmond was crowned King of England, becoming the Seventh of that name by the grace of God and all his saints. The best description of Henry VII’s coronation and unlikely rise can be found in House of Beaufort by Nathen Amin, head of The Henry Tudor Society. Nathen Amin has done a good job reinvigorating interest in Henry VII’s reign by starting off the book with his coronation and from there moving on to the Beauforts. Henry’s maternal family, who were at the heart of every major conflict of the fifteenth century, including the wars of the roses.

“St. Edward’s Crown, resplendent in all its golden glory, was being held above the brown-haired head of a slender twenty-eight-year-old who had, until two months earlier, been a stranger to the country he was no invited to rule. The small blue eyes of this new king of England were focused, his mind resolute that this very day was the will of God. Many in the kingdom, not just the man now occupying the throne, interpreted the victory of his disparate army on a bloody battlefield under the Leicestershire sun as divine judgment. In his left hand he held a golden scepter topped with a cross, while in his right hand he clutched another scepter, mounted with a dove. The former represented his new temporal power while the latter symbolized a monarch’s spiritual authority, both of which were now vested in the royal person of Henry Tudor.

The venerated, if aged hands that held the crown belonged to Cardinal Thomas Bourchier, archbishop of Canterbury and a clergyman who had witnessed the turmoil and tragedy of the previous forty years at close quarters. Due to the cardinal’s growing infirmity, he was ably assisted during the ceremony by Peter Courtenay and John Morton, bishops of Exeter and Ely respectively, and men who had spent considerable time with Henry in exile, establishing close relations with the man they now sought to serve. As the elderly archbishop lowered the crown onto Henry’s head, he was symbolically bestowing kingship upon no fewer than his third English sovereign; Bourchier had crowned Edward IV in 1461 and Richard III in 1483, as well as crowning Edward’s wife Elizabeth Wydeville as queen in 1465. The name of Henry Tudor was now added to that prestigious list.

As would become the standard for Tudor public ceremony over the next century, no expense was spared on the opulent occasion. There was good reason for this; Henry VII had been an unknown stranger to his new subjects before the Battle of Bosworth, and he was keen to ensure he converted any doubters with lavish festivities to mark his accession. From day one, the Tudors readily acknowledged the need to put on majestic displays to conceal any flaws in their claim to the throne. It is unsurprising to later read the king’s court historian Bernard Andre describe the occasion as a ‘most excellent coronation’. The Tudors had arrived. Throughout the day, the king appeared glorious in the new garments procured for the ancient rituals. Significant sums of money had been spent on items such as a velvet jacket with black and ermine furs, while during the day he proudly bore a surcoat crafted from fine blue cloth. Henry augmented his regal costume with a long gown of crimson cloth of gold and also had robes fashioned from crimson velvet and satin. A luxurious doublet of cloth of gold, as well as another doublet of black satin, had also been tailored for the king, who cut a glittering figure in front of his curious subjects. London’s goldsmiths, embroiderers and cloth merchants had clearly done brisk business in the weeks preceding the coronation. Apart from the king, the coronation of Henry VII represented the triumph of several other individuals among his affinity. Many had recently been granted estates and titles from an appreciative Henry, and the ceremony was as much their celebration as it was the king’s. Henry’s devoted and resilient uncle Jasper Tudor was one such figure, having been rewarded for rescuing his brother’s son from the Yorkists at the age of fourteen and fleeing to Brittany, then France, where the pair remained until only three weeks before Bosworth. It was Jasper who was given the fitting honour of bearing his nephew’s crown through the abbey, while others given prominent roles included Thomas Stanley, recently created earl of Derby and stepfather of the king, and John de Vere, 13th Earl of Oxford, a skilled commander who had been integral in securing victory at Bosworth. Derby entrusted with bearing the Sword of State during the procession while Oxford was granted the honour of bearing the king’s train. Throughout the ceremony, the loud lamentations of an anguished woman threatened to disrupt the solemn proceedings. The tearful lady in question was the king’s beloved mother Lady Margaret Beaufort, Stanley’s wife and widow of Henry’s father Edmund Tudor, earl of Richmond. It was apparent the countess had become stricken with fear for her only child, perhaps anticipating a series of threats to his person once settled upon the throne. During the funeral sermon given by Bishop John Fisher after Margaret’s death in 1509, her behavior during the coronation was recalled, with Fisher noting how she would ‘dredde the adversyte’ and that when ‘the Kynge her Son was Crowned, in all that grete tryumphe and glory, she wept mervaylously’. Margaret;s reaction seems extraordinary when one considers the monetous occasion, particularly as her son’s accession would bring her unparalleled influence, wealth and political sway as the king’s mother. What had prompted such a tearful outpouring of dread? For Margaret, her only child’s coronation represented not only the unlikely triumph of the Welsh-born Tudors, but also that of her own ancestors, the Beauforts. The family traced their origin to 1372 and the birth of Margaret’s grandfather John Beaufort, an illegitimate son of John of Gaunt, the exceptionally wealthy duke of Lancaster and the third son of Edward III. The Beauforts were, therefore, royally descended, and after their retrospective legitimization in 1397 became loyal adherents to the first three Lancastrian monarchs, amassing considerable influence in the process. By 1471, however, it was Margaret alone who survived as the last living male-line member of her family, a status she wore with brazen pride, a sentiment similarly borne by her only son. It was, after all, Beaufort blood that gave Henry his slender claim to the throne. On the day of Henry’s coronation, several royal and dynastic emblems were liberally displayed on banners and tapestries throughout London, including generic insignia such as the English coat of arms and the badges of Saints Edmund the Martyr and Edward the Confessor. The new king had been particularly keen to draw attention to three of his own adopted emblems. The first was the red rose, which the king embraced to signify his kinship to the House of Lancaster and his uncle Henry VI, his father’s half-brother. The second was a red dragon, an ancient symbol purportedly borne by the seventh-century Welsh king Cadwaladr, from whom the Tudors claimed descent. The third symbol freely employed by the new king was that of a porticullis. In an era when heraldry was as recognizable as big brands are in the present day, those assembled in the abbey were acutely aware to whom the king was alluding, for the portcullis was an established Beaufort emblem synonymous with the family’s earlier members, including Henry’s grandfather and great-grandfather, both named John. The king would later use the motto altera securitas with the portcullis badge, stressing that his Beaufort ancestry only served to bolster his claim to a throne he had boldly claimed by right of conquest. If anyone at the coronation celebrations remained in doubt as to the king’s pride in his maternal lineage, the substantial figure of 50 pounds was spent commissioning 105 silver and gilt portcullises for distribution during the day. The purpose of this costly exercise was clear: to advertise the throne now belonged to the Beauforts, if not in name, then certainly in spirit. The improbable rise of Henry Tudor from penniless Welsh exile to king of England is one of the most remarkable episodes in British history, but the role played by his maternal Beaufort relations in the rise is often overlooked. The Beauforts had been born as bastards to a royal duke and his foreign-born mistress to become earls, dukes and cardinals, securing untold wealth and influence throughout the first half of the fifteenth century before losing everything in a series of catastrophic battles between 1455 and 1471. It was the gradual collapse of this mighty family during the Wars of the Roses that paved the way for Henry Tudor to take up the Beaufort cause in lieu of his mother. The Tudor triumph represented the resurgence of the Beauforts. And yet, in the momentous setting of Westminster Abbey and amidst the unbridled merriment of those present, Margaret Beaufort ‘ryghte tenderly’ wept. Though her beloved son, who ‘from a grave and serious child, had become a gallant and victorious Prince’, now occupied the throne, the tribulations of her family had preconditioned the countess to presume that soaring highs were inevitably followed by crushing lows. As Bishop Fisher summarized at her funeral, ‘whereyn she had full grete joy, she let not to saye that some dversyte wolde followe’. When one considers the Beauforts’ tumultuous existence throughout the fifteenth century, Margaret’s attitude is perhaps easily understood. Geoffrey Chaucer, a kinsman of the earlier Beauforts through marriage, captured such anxiety perfectly in ‘The Monk’s Tale’ when he wrote, ‘And thus does Fortune’s wheel turn treacherously, and out of happiness bring men to sorrow.’

From happiness to sorrow; it could almost have been a Beaufort family motto.” ~Nathen Amin, House of Beaufort

It’s deeply evocative. It reads more like a novel than a history book. This is what narrative history is all about. It reignites interest in these historical figures and encourages those who are new to the Tudor Dynasty, to find out more about it.

Additionally, there is something appealing about the Tudors that surpasses interest in any other dynasty. And that is thanks in part to the Tudor wit. The Tudors, more than any other monarch, learned that true power of the pen, proving once again that the pen is mightier than the sword.

Appearance were everything for them. Henry Tudor crafted an alternative tale of the events that led to the wars of the roses with the 'Tudor rose'. White over red, or red over white, it showed the union of two houses which had previously been at war with each other. This dynastic warfare had torn the country apart and it came at an end with Henry's reign and his marriage to Elizabeth of York. But as Dr. Lucy Worsley pointed out in the first episode of her documentary series Britain's Biggest Fibs, the truth was far more complicated than that.

“Henry VII’s marriage to Elizabeth would stir attention away from this …” Dr. Lucy Worsley explains, pointing to the the roll that describes the lineage of Lancastrian and Yorkist Kings, and their ancestors, the Plantagenets as well as the Anglo-Saxon kings and queens before them. The scroll belonged to the de la Pole family who had Yorkist blood via one of Edward IV’s sisters. For obvious reasons they didn’t like Henry and were in cohort with Margaret of York, Duchess Dowager of Burgundy and others, to depose Henry VII. Henry VII did descend from a “servant grandfather” as Dr. Worsley put it, but he did have Lancastrian blood via his mother, Margaret Beaufort. The Beauforts got their last name after one of the castles that belonged to their forefather, John of Gaunt, 1st Duke of Lancaster. Because the Beauforts had been conceived and born before John of Gaunt married their mother, they were considered illegitimate. But they were legitimized by Richard II. After Richard II was deposed however, their half-brother, Henry IV (the first Lancaster monarch) added another clause that excluded them from the line of succession. Henry VII's union did not end the wars of the roses nor did it lend credibility to his claim. Dan Jones also points this out in his book "Wars of the Roses: The Fall of Plantagenets and the Rise of the Tudors" (Hollow Crown in the UK). The war would go on well into the reign of Henry VIII, and the paranoia over those with (arguably) better claim than the Tudors, would lead to one of the most horrific executions in English history. Nevertheless, the rise of the Tudors is nothing short of astounding. The fact that ALL of them managed to defeat all of their rivals, and remain on the throne is worthy of recognition.

In his book Rise of the Tudors (Bosworth in the UK), Chris Skidmore points out how unlikely Henry's rise was, and how it often gets overlooked by modern audiences:

“The reality of Henry Tudor’s ascent to the throne –his narrow escapes from death, his failures and anxieties, complete with constant uncertainty of his situation, and the compromises that he had been forced to make, including the support from France and hiss former Yorkist enemies in gaining the crown- was a far less welcome tale. It remains nonetheless nonetheless just as remarkable; against all the odds, at Bosworth Henry achieved victory that he should have not on” One of the reasons that Henry VII doesn't get a lot of recognition is because the pendulum has swung to the other side, juxtaposing him in the role that was once cast for Richard. It has become fashionable to see Richard as the hero and Henry as the villain. And while it is great that many novelists and historians have taken a deep interest in the last Plantagenet king, they don't quite get that by painting both of these figures with a broad brush, they are doing the exact same thing that they accuse dozens of chroniclers and the celebrated playwright William Shakespeare of doing. They say that those who don't learn from history are doomed to repeat it. Clearly, Henry did learn from history because he continued with many of the policies that worked during the Yorkist regime, primarily those of his late father-in-law, Edward IV, and did away with those that didn't, making him one of the best administrator and successful monarchs of the fifteenth century to the beginning of the sixteenth century. At the time that Henry was crowned King of England, there was a lot of uncertainty. The country had lived through many uprisings. Margaret Beaufort herself shared their sentiment when she cried, according to her confessor John Fisher, tears of fear and joy upon seeing her son crowned. She, more than everyone, knew how fickle power was and if her son didn't reign properly, then he would meet the same fate as his predecessor. Time however, proved everyone wrong. Henry died on the 21st of April 1509, after ruling England for nearly twenty four years. He left the crown richer than it had ever been. He was outlived by his mother for a few months who, despite her ill-health and melancholy, refused to die until her grandson was of age and jointly crowned king of England with Katharine of Aragon as his queen. Henry was buried at Westminster Abbey, in the lady chapel, next to his wife, Elizabeth of York.

His story has been the source of inspiration for fantasy writer George R. R. Martin, who based one of his characters on him. If this wasn't evident before, it has become evident now with the last two seasons of the show which have gone beyond the books. Daenerys Targaryen's banner is a three-headed red dragon who is regarded as a foreigner by many of her would-be-subjects. She lands on the place of her birth, a place that is regarded as mysterious as it is dreary. This is awfully familiar to Henry's return from exile when he landed on the place of his birth, Wales, on Milford Haven, on August 1485. And like Henry VII, she had the odds stacked against her. Unlike her however, he got to sit on the English throne and reigned for nearly twenty-four years, restoring stability to the kingdom and establishing a dynasty whose members were never deposed or dethroned and died in their beds.

Unsurprisingly, Martin has also been inspired by his maternal family story. For those of you who have read the books, you probably know where I am going with this but those of you who don't, let me explain. In his recent book, "The World of Ice and Fire", co-written with Antonson and Garcia, there is a separate branch of the Targaryens known as the "Blackfyres". Their last name is taken from the legendary sword of their founder, Aegon Targaryen, better known as "the Conqueror". They are a bastard line that was nearly legitimized by Aegon IV. After they launched an open rebellion against their legitimate cousins, they were wiped out with only the female members of their line surviving. And while they are not prominent on the show, they play a major role on the books.

Once again, history is the best source of inspiration, but like JRM in The Tudors said, to get to heart of the story, you have to go back to the beginning and the story of Henry's rise doesn't begin with his birth, but with his maternal family, the Beauforts.

#Henry VII #influences in pop culture #history #relation to the world of ice and fire #of george rr martin #targaryen #fantasy #dailytudors

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hymnstoalienstars · 4 years ago

Text

building on There Are Rules AU: don’t antagonize voldemort

Don’t antagonize Voldemort was once a rule but it turned out to be an endless fountain of fun and therefore cut from the list.

There was a time, for example, when Riddle thought he was stalked by an entity that could possess bodies. It wasn’t Harry’s fault, really. Was it his fault he kept resurrecting on the battlefield? Was it his fault he didn’t have a minute to adjust his style of dueling? his body language? Was it his fault the bloody Death Eaters kept trying to kill him?

#MAYBE:

#VOLDEMORT'S POV

this is from the prev post

I probably need some actual plot and some info on the First Wizarding War.

i’m just gonna scan the wiki for details (the following is copied from there)

1970 – 31 October, 1981 Cause: Voldemort's return to the United Kingdom in order to begin his first reign of terror Result: Ministry and Order of the Phoenix victory. The disappearance of Voldemort and decline of the Death Eaters. Harry Potter declared the "Boy Who Lived"

1970

29 November: William Arthur Weasley to Arthur and Molly Weasley

Sometime after Molly graduated, both her brothers were murdered by Death Eaters in the First Wizarding War. (Dolohov)

Arthur was not a member of the first Order of the Phoenix.

Molly: "It's all this uncertainty with You-Know-Who coming back, people think they might be dead tomorrow, so they're rushing all sorts of decisions they'd normally take time over. It was the same last time he was powerful, people eloping left, right, and centre —" Ginny Weasley: "Including you and Dad." — Molly reflecting on her marriage in 1996[src]

1971

The Whomping Willow is planted.

1 September: Individuals that started at Hogwarts

Sirius Black (Gryffindor)[3]

Lily Evans (Gryffindor)[3]

Severus Snape (Slytherin)[3]

Remus Lupin (Gryffindor)[3]

James Potter (Gryffindor)[3]

Peter Pettigrew (Gryffindor)[3]

Adrian (unknown house)[4]

Stebbins (unknown house)[5]

1972

Muggles Who Notice by Blenheim Stalk is published.[1]

Published in 1972, it covered incidents where Muggles noticed elements of the Wizarding world, including the Ilfracombe Incident of 1932 and the story of "Dodgy" Dirk.[1] (a rogue Common Welsh Green dragon attacked a group of sunbathers in Ilfracombe in 1932)

Remus Lupin's friends James Potter, Sirius Black, and Peter Pettigrew discover that he is a werewolf, and resolve to learn to become animagi.[2]

1 September: Individuals that started Hogwarts Regulus Black (Slytherin)[4] Dirk Cresswell (unknown)[5] (was a Muggle-born wizard. In the mid-1990s he became Head of the Goblin Liaison Office, in the Ministry of Magic.)

Births 12 December: Charlie Weasley to Arthur and Molly Weasley.[8]

1973

Events The Ministry of Magic defeats an appeal against house-elf slavery[2]

Individuals that started Hogwarts Bartemius Crouch Jr

1975

Minister for Magic Eugenia Jenkins is seen as inadequate to the challenge of the first rise of Lord Voldemort, and is replaced by the hard-lined Harold Minchum.[2]

Minister Eugenia Jenkins was Minister for Magic between 1968 and 1975. She dealt competently with the pure-blood riots during the Squib Rights marches in the late sixties. However, when confronted with the first rise of Lord Voldemort, she was ousted from office, being deemed inadequate to the challenge.

The Squib Rights marches were an action by a mass group of Squibs in favour of the betterment of the rights of Squibs[2] that took place in 1968 or 1969, during Eugenia Jenkins's term as Minister for Magic. This demonstration was, presumably, unsuccessful, as a group of extremist Pure-bloods broke out in riot while it was taking place.

Minister Harold Minchum was Minister for Magic between 1975 and 1980. He was seen as a hard-liner, and placed even more Dementors around Azkaban. But he was unable to contain what seemed like Voldemort's unstoppable rise to power.

Regulus Black receives his Dark Mark, thus becoming a Death Eater.[8]

Sirius Black, James Potter, Remus Lupin, and Peter Pettigrew create the Marauder's Map.

1976

22 August: Percy Weasley to Arthur and Molly Weasley[6]

James Potter, Sirius Black, Remus Lupin, Peter Pettigrew, Lily Evans and Severus Snape sit their O.W.L. examinations in June. Lily Evans dissolves her friendship with Severus Snape after he calls her a "Mudblood". Sirius Black runs away from home to live with the Potter family[1] Sirius Black sees his cousin Bellatrix Lestrange for the last time before they are both in Azkaban. Sirius Black gets his own place (either in 1976 or 1977) with money he inherited from his uncle Alphard Black.[2]

1977

James Potter and Lily Evans become Head Boy and Girl[1] Sirius Black gets his own place (either in 1976 or 1977) with money he inherited from his uncle Alphard Black.[2] James Potter and Sirius Black are chased by two police men, Fisher and Anderson, as well as three Death Eaters on broomsticks, while riding on Sirius's motorbike. They escape, however, by using magic to lift the police car, causing the three Death Eaters to crash into it.[3] Vernon and Petunia Dursley purchase and move in to 4 Privet Drive.[4] Regulus Black plays for the Slytherin Quidditch team during the 1977 to 1978 school year.

Deaths Dorea Potter née Black[9] Amarillo Lestoat[10] Alphard Black (possibly)[2]

There was some speculation that Dorea Potter was the mother of James Potter and so the paternal grandmother of Harry Potter. However, the actual names of James's parents were revealed to be Fleamont and Euphemia Potter, via Pottermore.[4] In spite of this, it is still more than likely that Dorea was possibly an aunt or a cousin by marriage of James.

It was once presumed that Charlus Potter and Dorea Black, who appeared on the Black family tree, might have been James's parents (since it was known that Charlus and Dorea also had one son). However, J. K. Rowling revealed via Pottermore that that was not the case. It is still more than likely, however, that Charlus Potter is somehow related to Fleamont.

I personally like the idea of Dorea Black being Harry’s grandmother. There’s next to nothing on Euphemia but Dorea Black being bold enough to “run away” with a Potter makes a good story. And it’s a headcanon active in all of my HP stories, I think.

1978

1 April: Twins Fred and George Weasley are born to Arthur and Molly Weasley[3]

Universal Brooms Ltd goes out of business.[1] James Potter, Lily Evans, Remus Lupin, Peter Pettigrew, Sirius Black, and Severus Snape leave Hogwarts.

1979

Regulus Blacks dies by drinking the Drink of Despair and gets killed by Inferius while trying to destroy a Horcrux of Tom Marvolo Riddle.

The Wedding of James Potter I and Lily Evans took place, with Sirius Black as the Best Man.

Peter Pettigrew begins passing information to Lord Voldemort[3]

Deaths Orion Black[5] Regulus Black[6] Fleamont Potter Euphemia Potter

Births 19 September: Hermione Granger

1980

Professor Sybill Trelawney tells Albus Dumbledore the prophecy concerning Harry Potter and Tom Marvolo Riddle.[1] Death Eater Igor Karkaroff is captured by Auror Alastor Moody and sent to Azkaban.[2] Millicent Bagnold succeeds Harold Minchum becoming Minister for Magic until her retirement in 1990.[3]

(a lot of birthdays)

Deaths c.1980: Evan Rosier and Wilkes, both known Death Eaters, are killed by Aurors.[8] c.1979-1980: Dean Thomas's father[9]

1981

Marlene McKinnon an Order of the Phoenix member is killed by Lord Voldemort who also wipes out her entire family. Harry Potter's first birthday

September: Sirius Black makes Peter Pettigrew the secret keeper

The Order of the Phoenix was founded by Albus Dumbledore during Lord Voldemort's first rise to power in the 1970s. Dumbledore formed the Order to combat Voldemort's increasing threat and power. Aurors from the Ministry of Magic also joined the Order to participate in more secretive, sudden assaults aimed to crush the Dark Rebellion. Dumbledore created a method of communication among Order members by inventing a way to make Patronuses speak. Although the Death Eaters had been attacking mostly Muggles and Muggle-borns to spread terror, they soon turned to attacking "blood traitors" such as Order members as well. The Order had to work hard, as they were outnumbered by a ratio of 20:1 by the Death Eaters. Fabian and Gideon Prewett were murdered by a group of five Death Eaters led by Antonin Dolohov. Caradoc Dearborn disappeared, the Bones family was almost completely destroyed, Benjy Fenwick was brutally murdered, and Marlene McKinnon and her family were murdered by Death Eaters, including Travers. Even as the Order suffered great losses, they continued to fight, and four of their members — James Potter, Lily Potter, Frank Longbottom, and Alice Longbottom — defied Voldemort himself three times.

First WW notes

"Imagine that Voldemort's powerful now. You don't know who his supporters are, you don't know who's working for him and who isn't; you know he can control people so that they do terrible things without being able to stop themselves. You're scared for yourself, and your family, and your friends. Every week, news comes of more deaths, more disappearances, more torturing... The Ministry of Magic's in disarray, they don't know what to do, they're trying to keep everything hidden from the Muggles, but meanwhile, Muggles are dying too. Terror everywhere... panic... confusion... that's how it used to be." —The uncertainty of the first war[src]

Werewolves were a big part of a confict...

Voldemort promised rights to [Dark] Creatures so it was a solid base

Voldemort’s base:

Dark magic - stop the laws that forbid it

that wouldnt be such a thing if all branches were for killing and torturing

like necromancy, for example

or maybe some family magic, blood magic

maybe even random spells or schools of magic... just because people were scared of “the dark”

it probably was the “Light Era”, before the 1970th, Scuib rights, maybe increase in muggleborns and newblood-oldblood marriages

Dark was weaker politically

maybe some bad attitudes towards “dark ws”

Pureblood supremacy

[Dark] creatures’ rights

Now going exclusively by his preferred name "Lord Voldemort", Riddle laid low and travelled around Europe and Asia. Little is known of his activities during this period, though he explored the Dark Arts extensively, studying the most obscure and arcane branches of magic and consorting with an array of dark wizards, who would all turn out to become his followers in the years to come. As a result of unnamed “magical experiments and transformations”, Voldemort underwent several physical and mental changes, which made him more powerful but less human, and was occasionally accompanied by a group of followers he came to call his "Death Eaters". By the time he was a full-fledged adult, around 1968, Riddle donned a hooded cloak (though he physically still did not resemble the montrous creature he would later in his life) which concealed him completely and he began plotting a wizarding coup, claiming that he was greatly dissatisfied with the current state of the Wizarding World and that he would succeed where so many, including Gellert Grindelwald and Salazar Slytherin, had failed. Voldemort convinced his underlings that to truly create a world full of peace and power, the old regime needed to be torn down at any and all costs and only those who shared pure blood, will and idealism would be allowed to live and thrive in it. In truth however, Lord Voldemort had little interest in political idealism himself. He was completely devoted to amassing his own magical power, and in becoming the most powerful and skilled wizard to have ever lived, invincible and eternal.

Though the Death Eaters were generally even less tolerant of them than wizarding society in general, these creatures were receptive of their violent and destructive goals. Dark activity suddenly arose throughout Great Britain, a country that had been totally untouched by dark magic; even during the reign of terror of Gellert Grindelwald; and Voldemort began surreptitiously killing poor and homeless Muggles (whose absences would not be noticed) with his followers so that he could reanimate their corpses with Necromancy until he had created an army of Inferi, a feat no other dark wizard in history had ever done.

In 1962, Minister Of Magic Ignatius Tuft was forced out of office for promising to institute a controversial Dementor breeding programme for Azkaban. He was replaced by Nobby Leach, who became the first Muggle-born ever to hold the Minister position, leading senior members of the Wizengamot to resign in protest. In 1963, Muggle expert Mordicus Egg published The Philosophy of the Mundane: Why the Muggles Prefer Not to Know, which posited actual theories about why Muggles continued to be unaware of magic. This was a different take on the subject, as it did not assume Muggles to be stupid nor ignorant.

Between 1965 and 1971[9], Dumbledore, who was noted as a social progressive believing strongly in the rights of Muggles as well as Muggle-borns and other oppressed minorities, ascended to the post of Headmaster of Hogwarts.

Supreme Mugwump of the International Confederation Of Wizards [ICW] and Chief Warlock of the Wizenagamot. In these positions of great and influential power, Dumbledore passed extreme legislation to prevent any possible dark forces from threatening overall security around Great Britain

In 1968, Nobby Leach left office for mysterious health reasons, leading to a conspiracy theory that he had been poisoned by his Muggle-prejudice advisor Abraxas Malfoy.

[1970] the Death Eaters and their allies (including the particularly destructive Giants) began openly carrying out attacks on Muggles for sport and to sow chaos. Cleaning up these attacks, healing survivors, modifying memories, searching for the perpetrators, and attempting to prevent future attacks occupied more and more of the Ministry's time and attention. As their confidence grew, the Death Eaters began targeting Muggle-born and blood traitor witches and wizards as well, torturing and sometimes killing their victims, which shocked wizarding society. Other "inferior" magical beings such as house-elves (who were treated like vermin) and Goblins (a family of which was slaughtered) also suffered under their reign of terror.

Voldemort himself personally killed hundreds of wizards, though he tended to only fight those he considered worthy of his attention or too powerful for his followers to defeat. In these encounters, he displayed his extraordinary abilities, many of which were thought impossible, and he very quickly earned the reputation of the most powerful and dangerous dark wizard of all time

[1971]Though the Ministry officially viewed the Order as a renegade outfit, a number of powerful Ministry officials (such as Elphias Doge and Dedalus Diggle; and the famous Aurors Alastor Moody and Frank Longbottom and Alice Longbottom) joined instantly to participate in more secretive, sudden assaults to crush the dark rebellion.[12] When Dumbledore helped black market trader Mundungus Fletcher out of trouble, he joined the Order and, due to his extensive knowledge of the criminal underworld, proved very useful.

To protect the organisation, Voldemort ensured that Death Eaters did not know the identities of too many of their fellows, and, to society at large, their identities were completely unknown.[13] Increasing the confusion and paranoia even further, Voldemort placed many dozens of innocent victims under the Imperius Curse simulaniously, and forced them to carry out his orders. Even friends and family members were not above suspicion of one another.

Evan Rosier, Lucius Malfoy, Bellatrix Lestrange, Sewlyn, Jerome Jugson, Jugson, Regulus Black, Rodolphus Lestrange, Rabastan Lestrange, Thorfinn Rowle, Gibbon, Augustus Rookwood, Igor Karkaroff, Crabbe, Goyle, Travers, and Antonin Dolohov. Likely at Snape's urging, Voldemort attempted to recruit Lily Evans, whose prodigious talents made up for her status as a Muggle-born

He took only Severus Snape and Bellatrix Lestrange under his personal wing, sharing with them his personal-secret knowledge of the Dark Arts; and inspiring in Bellatrix a delusional-psychotic attraction bordering on loving obsession, which Voldemort never returned

[1980]Shortly afterwards, due to Pettigrew's betrayal, Death Eaters began systematically murdering Order members and the war entered its most desperate phase. Marlene McKinnon was slaughtered alongside her entire family by Travers, Nott, and Mulciber. Edgar Bones, his wife, and their children were murdered by Thorfinn Rowle and Fenrir Greyback. Gideon Prewett and Fabian Prewett both fought bravely but were ultimately killed by Antonin Dolohov, and Dorcas Meadowes was murdered by Voldemort himself. Caradoc Dearborn disappeared and was never found, though he was presumed dead. Benjy Fenwick was killed by Bellatrix Lestrange, Evan Rosier, and Julius Jerome; and so brutally mutilated that only bits of him were recovered.[12]

In response to this brutal onslaught, Barty Crouch Snr, who despised Voldemort, the Death Eaters, and the Dark Arts entirely; issued an edict giving Ministry Aurors full permission to employ the use of the Unforgivable Curses against their enemies. A massive Ministry campaign, spearheaded and led by Alastor Moody, Kingsley Shackelbolt, and Frank Longbottom; ensued, immediately turning the tide of the war against the Death Eaters.

28 pureblood family names (sacred 28)

Abbott Avery Black Bulstrode Burke Carrow Crouch Fawley Flint Gaunt Greengrass Lestrange Longbottom Macmillan Malfoy Nott Ollivander Parkinson Prewett Rosier Rowle Selwyn Shacklebolt Shafiq Slughorn Travers Weasley Yaxley

Although the Malfoys were noted as respectable members as one of the Sacred Twenty-Eight (a title they are proud of), they did not take the pure-blood supremacy to the point of inbreeding: they were willing to marry half-bloods, many of whom are shown in their family tree.

#outloud worldbuilding #there are rules au

2 notes · View notes

coffeestainsandcashmere · 5 years ago

Text

‘All that’s best of dark and bright’ - a Draco x Hermione x Theo story - Chapter Three

For anyone reading on Tumblr and not on Ao3, here’s Chapter Three. Thank you so much to everyone who commented on Ao3 - you made my entire life with this. My venomous tentacular is fed and watered, and my creative patronus charm is nourished.

Chapter One here: Tumblr | Ao3

Chapter Two here: Tumblr | Ao3

“Right you are,” Hagrid beamed, shuffling a little bit on the spot. As he looked down at her, she realised that he was wearing the same, achingly worried expression he had when they’d all shown up that night with Ron hurling slugs and Hermione in tears. Somehow remembering that almost made her smile. “You, uh, want somethin’ to drink? Pumpkin juice? Tea maybe?”

Automatically, she shook her head. “I’m fine, thank you, Hagrid.” You’re not being a bother, and he asked you, she scowled silently. You’re allowed to ask for things you’d like. “No, actually, a cup of tea would be lovely, if you’ve got the kettle on.”

“You know me, Hermione,” Hagrid chuckled, obviously glad for something practical to do. “Kettle’s always on ’ere.”

Hermione smiled and watched the enormous man bumble back inside his modest, stone hut, and inhaled deeply. The air was cool and damp here on the edge of the forest, sheltered from the prevailing winds, and it carried with it the eerie, haunting croon of thestrals and the other creatures that lived in the forest, accompanied all the while by the soft susurrations of the breeze through the pine trees. If she strained her imagination hard enough, she could pretend to hear the swish of Buckbeak’s wings, or the hoarse croaks of young baby Norbert. A faint waft of cold smoke coiled up from the empty ashes in the fire pit, and the green scent of earth filled her mind for a long moment, stilling it for the first time in weeks. If anywhere felt like home now, it was probably here.

Alone for a little while, except for Fang, Hermione sank down onto a log and then, just because she felt like it, she lay down along its length and crossed her ankles. The wood formed a cool pressure right along her body, grounding her, and she sighed, hair splayed out beneath her head in a wild riot of curls.

Fang immediately plonked himself down on the ground beside her, the old dog leaning against the log as if it needed him to buttress it up, and she hooked her arm affectionately around his thick neck. “You’re like a giant teddy bear,” she chuckled as he tipped his head in her direction and tried to lick her face. Mercifully, he was just out of range. “An incredibly slobbery giant teddy bear, I’ll grant you, but still.” She was glad that, despite everything, Fang had made it through the war. He felt as much a part of this place as Hagrid did.

“So how’s things?” Hagrid asked as he emerged once again, the strong, milky contents of two giant mugs slopping slightly over the edge as he jostled with the door. He put one down on the log next to her to cool a little, and then eased himself down onto a log opposite her.

It groaned ominously, but held.

“Busy,” she said honestly and he chortled a big, rumbling laugh, belly shaking.

“Yer always busy, Hermione!” he said, still chuckling fondly. “I’d be worried if yeh weren’t. But how’s things without Ron and Harry? Yer not lonely, are yeh? And how are they getting on?”

She sucked the insides of her cheeks suddenly to keep from crying, emotions swelling inside her again as if under an engorgio charm. “I suppose they’re busy as well,” she said carefully, but her voice still trembled.

Fang nosed at her hand and licked her fingers gently.

“You ‘suppose’?” Hagrid asked, the quiet promise of thunder in his gentle voice.

With a heavy sigh she draped her free arm back over her head, enjoying the languorous stretch and feeling a bit like Crookshanks in his favourite sunny spot back at The Burrow. “I thought… I thought it would be alright without them,” she began. “And it is, for the most part, honestly. But… you know they’re both doing grown-up things like Auror training and earning a living already - Ron’s working in George’s shop in Diagon Alley - and meanwhile I’m… well, I’m still at school, Hagrid. It’s no wonder they haven’t bothered to write to me. They’re probably both too busy being important.”

“Oh Hermione,” he crooned gently, that thunderously protective edge still lurking in his voice, “Don’t talk like that. Yer bloody brilliant, you are. Yer gonna get the best marks anyone has ever seen at Hogwarts - better ‘an Dumbledore and McGonagall put together - and then yer gonna go on to do wonderful things when you leave here. It ain’t a rush and it ain’t a competition.”

Despite the fact that she laughed at his earnest, honest words, tears suddenly spilled from the corners of her eyes and disappeared into her wild hair as she lay there on her back. Fang shuffled himself around and tried to lick them off, but she really did draw the line at that and gently pushed his muzzle away before he could smear his hot tongue and vile slobber over her face.

“Thanks, Fang,” she said gently, knowing that the dog was emotionally intelligent, if maybe not quite so intellectually. “I’m just… I just… I feel so alone, Hagrid. I’ve got Ginny, of course, and Neville and a few others, but no one else has been through everything that we did - not the way that Harry and Ron and I did - and I feel like no one else… understands that. Ginny does, to an extent, but she was still sheltered for some of it.”

Always running; setting up the wards and constantly jumping at every last noise; foul, out of the way places to call ‘home’ for a few nights; exhaustion; fear bordering on mania; bickering; tempers fraying; desperation; isolation; helplessness; pain; the agony of loss again and again…

She stroked Fang’s smoke-soft coat for a bit, fingers skimming the silvery fur, and eventually began to feel a bit better for the contact. Hagrid didn’t speak and she loved him for his quiet patience.

After a while, she added, “Don’t get me wrong, Hagrid, I’m glad no one else had to go through it all, but… Sometimes I feel like the only person here at Hogwarts who has been through as much is… well… is Draco Malfoy, so you can imagine my sentiments about that.” But… what were her sentiments about that, exactly? She found that she didn’t like to dwell on it, actually, since examining it only seemed to muddy the waters.

Hagrid was quiet for a just moment longer before he said quietly, “He came to see me on the first day of term, you know?”

At that world-tilting revelation, she looked over at him sharply. “What?” she barked.

“Yeah,” he said, rubbing his beard and taking a huge gulp of tea. “Can’t say I was too happy to see him, o’course, but… before I could set Fang on him, he just apologised. Stood there with his hands in his pockets and said he was sorry for… for Buckbeak, and for my house getting burned, and everything. Said he knew he couldn’t make it right, but he wanted to clear the air a bit.”

“What did you tell him?” she asked faintly.

“I told him that if he really meant it, then… well… I’m no acromantula; I won’t hold a grudge forever. But if he’s really sorry for everything - an’ I mean everything - then he’ll start to do some good with that name of his, instead of bad.”

She snorted and looked back up at the sky. A patch of blue in the shape of a Welsh Green dragon had opened up above her and was drifting lazily overhead towards the Forbidden Forest. She watched it as she said, “Can’t imagine he took that very well.”

“Actually, he just nodded and said ‘yeah’ before walking back off to the castle on his own. I had to have a whole mug full of firewhisky just to settle myself down afterwards,” he snorted. She didn’t blame him. She’d felt like she needed a whole bottle of the stuff after Malfoy had apologised to her in Potions, and that had been over something fairly inconsequential. “He looks awful. Like someone took all the starch out of him, Hermione. Like he’s got nothing left no more.”

She sighed and found herself nodding in agreement. “It’s like I keep seeing two Malfoys, Hagrid. There’s the snotty little pureblood boy from first year who was just awful and defensive and volatile, always seeking approval and validation… and then there’s this haunted young man with all the weight of grief and guilt on his shoulders, and… I don’t know how to reconcile the two. Or if I even need to. Or if I should!” She cringed, realising how shrill her voice had grown, and Fang whined softly. “Sometimes I really think he’s changed and he’ll surprise me - like today, when he made a flippant comment and it took me completely off guard. Then he apologised afterwards and I nearly passed out. I couldn't believe that Draco Malfoy was apologising to me - especially for something so petty!”

“Imagine how I felt,” Hagrid said wryly.

Another sigh rolled out of her but before she had time to say any more about Malfoy’s cruelly snapped comments and acrid personality, footsteps on the gravel path leading down to the pumpkin patch drew their attention. Fang didn’t budge from her side, but he gave a low, warm ‘woof’ of greeting, as Neville came intro sight.

“Hello Hagrid, Fang,” he beamed. “Hermione!” he added when he spotted her.

“Hi Neville,” she replied, sitting up again and dusting off her skirt. “Didn’t expect to see you here.”

“Likewise. Thought you’d be in the library!”

She tried not to let the innocent comment sting and Neville carried on while she drained half of her mug of tea in one go. It was strong enough to tan leather, but the taste of it fortified her somehow.

“Come to collected those chizpurfles for the venomous tentacula’s weekly feed, Hagrid, if you don’t mind. And some more doxy venom if you have it. Professor Slughorn asked me to pick some up next time I stopped by.”

“Right you are,” Hagrid grunted as he got up off the log and stumped off into his hut.

Hermione looked up at Neville over the rim of her mug and realised just how much he’d grown up too. He was almost handsome now. He met her eye and flashed her a curious frown, and she laughed softly and set the mug down. Fang began to lap at the remnants and she abandoned it happily enough to him. “I was just talking to Hagrid about how much we’ve all grown up since first year. How’s life as Professor Sprout’s teaching assistant?”

Some of the few ‘eighth years’ had been adopted by various members of staff as teaching assistants, and she’d been approached by no fewer than three. Muggle Studies was plenty enough for her though.

“Oh it’s going great,” Neville beamed. “Professor Sprout’s letting me grow the squill on my own and they’re doing really well so far. Slughorn needs them for his Felix Felicis class later this term.”

“That’s great,” she said, and she really meant it. He deserved to be happy after everything. Rumour had it that he and Hannah Abbott were getting closer and closer too.

“What about you? You seem busier than ever…” he said.

With a long inhale and a knowing look, she nodded. “Yes. Speaking of, I should stop talking Hagrid’s ear off and get back up to the castle. I’ve got three essays to finish today and Charms at sixth period.”

Hagrid emerged a moment later with a small crate of assorted things for Neville and he chuckled fondly. “That’s our Hermione, eh Neville? Never sitting still for more ‘an five minutes at a time!” He paused before handing the crate to Neville and added, “Yer welcome here any time - all of you lot, you know that. You need a cup of tea, or a cuddle with Fang, yer more ‘an welcome to it.”

Her throat closed up a little and she promised herself she wasn’t going to cry. “Thanks, Hagrid. And you, Fang,” she smiled, pressing a kiss to the top of his head and earning a thwack around the calves from his tail for the effort.

“You going back up to the castle, Neville?” she asked and he nodded.

“Well, greenhouses,” he amended.

“Mind if I join you?”

“Not at all.”

“See you Hagrid!” they both chimed and she headed back with her chest feeling considerably lighter. Something did lurk in the background though, like a grindylow in the weeds, but she tried not to give it any attention. Malfoy. It was all their talk about Malfoy. And she didn’t want to think about him just then. Neville, it seemed, had no such concerns about bringing up the Slytherins.

As they neared the greenhouses, footsteps crunching on the compacted gravel pathway, he asked, “How are your prefect patrols with Nott going?”

“You heard about that, huh?” she grinned.

“Ginny mentioned something about prefects being paired with different houses. Is he alright? I never really knew him ‘before’.”

Before. That word carried such weight. She tucked a wayward strand of hair behind her ear only for it to spring loose again immediately. “It’s not bad, actually. I was wary at first, but I’ve got to know him a bit in some of my classes too, and he’s honestly not awful. He’s a cocky little shit, don’t get me wrong, but… he’s also kind of nice.”

“For a Slytherin…” Neville snorted playfully.

“No, for anyone,” she said evenly. “He’s extremely smart, and surprisingly considerate, and he’s even rather witty. I don’t mind being on a rota with him at all.”

Neville shot her a long look but eventually shrugged. “What do Harry and Ron have to say about it?”

Her chest twisted painfully and she looked away. “They’re not my keepers, Neville,” she snapped under her breath.

“I didn't mean it like that,” he said patiently. “I just… I just meant… never mind. I’m sorry.”

“No, I’m sorry,” she insisted. “I’ve been in a funny mood all day. I’m sure Luna would tell me it’s wrackspurts or something.”

Neville smiled and they parted ways at the greenhouses with a promise to catch up at lunch.

All in all, Hermione wasn’t sure that her trip to Hagrid’s had done much other than fill her up with mightily strong tea, but the walk had probably done her good and put some colour in her cheeks, as her mother used to say. God, she missed her parents. Kingsley Shacklebolt had promised to send agents to check in on them from time to time, but he’d sent no word lately of how they were doing. No news, she assumed, meant good news at least.

The remainder of her day passed relatively uneventfully, and she got the homework done in good time, just as she’d planned.

It still felt oddly as if she were drifting about the place, more of a ghost than any of the genuine spirits who haunted the halls of Hogwarts, but she half hoped she could get the chance to talk to Malfoy again in Charms that afternoon. The tentative truce they’d shared in the first few weeks of term - polite nods and tersely academic conversation - seemed in danger of fracturing and shattering. If it went now, she wasn’t sure they’d get another chance to repair the damage done by their shared history.

Malfoy, however, sat beside Nott and didn’t look up at all from his textbook, except to perform an impressively nonchalant flick of his wand to transform some vinegar into a rather inviting-looking glass of champagne at Flitwick’s invitation. He even transfigured the glass in the same sweep to turn it from a squat, ugly tumbler into an elegant flute.

“Very nice, Mr. Malfoy,” Professor Flitwick chirruped. “Now, Miss. Granger, can you tell us why such a charm is taught here in this classroom, and not in Transfiguration with Professor McGonagall? Extra transfigurations notwithstanding,” he added with a flash of his eyes at Malfoy.

Because taking classes with obnoxiously stubborn Slytherins drives one to drink… “Well, simply put: oxidation of the ethanol in the wine forms ethanoic acid which produces vinegar. All this charm does is force that oxidation reaction to run the other way, and return the vinegar to its original, reduced state. You can repeat the charm as many times as you like, oscillating between vinegar and wine, but that’s all you could do. It’s why you couldn’t use this charm to convert orange juice into champagne. You’d need to transfigure that, as Malfoy did rather neatly with the glass,” she added in his direction.

Malfoy’s silver eyes darted from the page in front of him where he’d been doodling - small drawings of owls and serpents, she thought, though it was hard to tell from that angle - and found her face. She offered him a tiny smile, and to her surprise, he returned it, though the gesture was barely more than a twitch of one corner of his full lips.

“Very good,” Professor Flitwick said, returning to the front of the small classroom. “Now, for our next charm, I have something a little less… frivolous in mind. Miss Granger, if you’d be so kind as to come down to be my demonstration partner?”

She shunted her chair back and stood, smoothing out her skirt automatically before coming down to the front of the room. It felt odd to have everyone’s eyes on her, and she almost had to close her own for a moment to remind herself that she was not back at the Ministry, and Malfoy was no longer on trial. Her eyes flickered up to his shot of silver hair in the back row, but he was doodling again. She was at Hogwarts, and she was supposed to be listening to Flitwick so that she knew which bloody charm he wanted to demonstrate with her.

“…is a protective charm that will create a barrier around the caster and keep them from the view of people on the other side,” Flitwick said.

Oh heck, did she know this one. And she’d probably cast it accidentally in her sleep a hundred times since returning from their life on the run.

“Hermione?” Flitwick asked, “Are you alright? You’ve gone a shade… green.”

“I’m fine, Professor,” she smiled, tamping everything down inside her again. “You want me to cast it now?”

“If you would be so kind.”

Bringing her hand up, she flicked her wand and muttered, “Cave inimicum.”

The shuddering wall of magic descended around her, muffling and distorting the voices of the class. From the safety of her invisible bubble, she could stare openly at Malfoy and she discovered, to her surprise, that he’d been wearing an oddly intense expression as he’d watched her cast. Nott, sitting beside him, looked as casual as ever at first glance, but now that she took the time to look a little longer, she saw an intense light in his dark blue eyes that had only kindled when Malfoy had leaned forwards on the desk, long fingers folded in front of him, his icy grey eyes alive and roiling with emotions she couldn't read.

“Thank you, Miss Granger,” Flitwick’s voice echoed dully through the barrier to her ears. “Presuming you’re still there, of course.” He chortled amusedly at his own joke. “Now, if I stick my hand through the barrier, it will disrupt it, but if I step inside entirely —” he did so, and she smiled as the tiny wizard looked up at her and the charm fractured but held tenuously, “— you will see how easily the illusion is shattered. Of course, you can still hear through one of these barriers, so the caster will have to use other enchantments to reduce noises.”

Someone made a predictably crass comment about having a quickie behind the broomstick sheds with this one, and half the class snorted. Those students among them who had already discovered such charms either kept extremely still in their seats, or flushed slightly. Hermione managed to do neither, but she thought she detected a slight warming of Theodore’s freckled cheeks. Interesting. She’d not known him to have shown any romantic interests, but then again, she’d had slightly more important things on her mind than who was sleeping with whom in sixth year. Except for Ron. She’d known exactly who he was sleeping with, and it had made her nearly mad with jealousy. That she’d been so petty over the business with Lavender - rest her soul - was something that still gnawed away at her. In the end, Hermione and Ron had been better off as friends anyway. She often wondered if Lavender would have been good for Ron in the long run. She’d never know now.

Mechanically, she took down the enchantment at Professor Flitwick's request, and returned to her seat.

“Used that one before have you, Granger?” a blond seventh year Slytherin seated on the second row leered. He reminded her so viscerally of Cormac McLaggen that her gut twisted unpleasantly.

With her expression stony, she paused just behind him and replied in a voice just loud enough to carry, “Came in handy once or twice last year for evading snatchers, yes,” she said tartly before sitting down and glaring at her textbook. Malfoy said nothing nor looked at her.

She snuck a sidelong look at him a minute or two later as Flitwick wrapped up the class, and saw that he was gripping his wand in his left hand so hard his knuckles had faded a few shades lighter than the rest of his skin, and a muscle in his jaw was pulsing. Theodore shuffled beside him and a moment later, the tension eased in Malfoy. He let out a long, slow breath through his nose and then Draco looked at her. The pain in his eyes - the open, unshielded, raw pain - stole her breath. Unthinkingly, she almost reached for his shoulder, but she caught herself in time and instead offered him a smile. ‘I forgave you’ she tried to convey with just her eyes.

Malfoy’s face hardened again and he looked away.

As the bell tolled for the end of class, he stood up and left without a word, shoving past Nott and leaving the room in a swirl of black robes.

Hermione pulled a face and found that Nott was offering her a matching grimace. The rest of the class streamed out, but the two of them remained in the lecture room.

“We knew it wouldn’t be easy,” Hermione said, eyes on the doorway where Malfoy had vanished. “After everything… There are bound to be things that come up in class now — potions, spells…” she paused and said pointedly, “Even curses… which, you know, we’ve all used to get by in one way or another. Tell him…” Tell him what? “Never mind. Just — “ she let out another little frustrated huff and shook her head, curls bouncing wildly. Her last hair-tie had spontaneously snapped in the library and she now felt like a real Gryffindor lioness, wandering around with a wild, curly mane haloing her head. There were smoothing charms, but she didn’t fancy messing about with magic in the girls’ bathrooms. She’d done that before, with mixed success. “I’ll see you for patrols tonight,” she said, defeated.

Nott nodded and stepped aside to let her pass out of the row first.

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Part Four

If you enjoyed, please reblog and share! I’m new to the fandom on here and appreciate all the help I can get!

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writing masterlist | Ao3

#dramione #draco x theo #draco x hermione #draco malfoy x theodore nott #draco x theo x hermione #draco x hermione x theo #hermione x draco #hermione x draco x theo #theo x draco #harry potter fanfic

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