#the black occamy

[black-occamy]

The idea that wolfstar shippers and remadora shippers need to be on the opposing sides is so funny to me. Like, being Remusexual is not a choice 🤷🏻‍♀️ it's a fact of life.

Sirius and Dora would not compete for Remus' affection - the only thing they compete about is the awesomeness of the next prank.

And Remus, I have it on good (headcanon) authority, has enough love in him to share with not two but three partners. He needs the pack to keep him strong and confident. Wolves are alone only when they're preparing to die.

...and the pack needs a balancing factor for the cousins Black shenanigans, hence a fourth person - Gemma 🤷🏻‍♀️ (yes, I'm Remusexual, bite me).

[black-occamy]

It's some of two, some of three and a lot of screaming half-naked on my way to the bathroom "husband, husband, I HAVE THIS AWESOME IDEA FOR THE OCCAMY FIC YOU JUST WOULDN'T BELIEVE, NOW HEAR ME OUT..." for like half an hour.

[black-occamy]

Theydies and Gentlethems, I am proud to present my OC, Gemma "the Occamy" Appleby.

Earlier this year I made a decision to start drawing. Every day, every other day, I made less and less terrible drawings of things. I asked my husband to gift me an iPad on my birthday, but only if I drew constantly, so that I knew I "deserved" a gift that would actually be used.

He gifted it to me a month early, so that when I turn 37 I will be able to add drawing to the list of skills I have.

This is nowhere perfect, but it's the first thing I drew on the tablet from scratches - by tracing and referencing, and wiping and retracing, and listening to advice from people more adept than me at art, and generally spending an ungodly amount of time on one thing. But I'm glad it's done.

I want to thank the people who have personally or through sharing their own art, inspired me to challenge myself. It's never too late to start - even after putting something off for years, because of lack of faith in yourself.

I'm excited to see where it will lead me.

[black-occamy]

The damage that Azkaban has done to him...

There was a soft snoring coming from the living room at the end of the corridor. Gemma peeked inside and breathed with relief when she spotted Sirius, curled in her plush green armchair and wrapped in a patchwork blanket that she used on winter evenings. A book was resting on the floor, next to an empty potion bottle of Calming Draught. She lowered her wand. For a moment she wanted to leave him asleep unbothered, but much like a vigilant animal, Sirius suddenly shuddered and opened his eyes, fixing his gaze at her. “It’s just me,” she said gently. “I see you found my favourite reading nook.” He studied her for a while, as if making sure that she was real, then nodded. “The potion must have put me to sleep,” he murmured, stretching and slowly getting up from the armchair. His moves, though still deliberate, seemed less restrained with pain than the night before. “It's a good thing, actually,” Gemma glanced at the book he picked up from the floor and wrinkled her nose. “Good read?” Sirius stared at the volume in his hand, as if seeing it for the first time. Then, gradually, a smile spread across his face. It wasn't the mischievous grin she remembered from Hogwarts, but it was close. “The Triwizard Triangle,” he read from the cover. “I had no idea you were such a fan of the Spellbound Publishers.” Gemma scoffed. “I don't know this book. Must have come with the house.” “Oh?” Through her mild irritation she couldn't help but be glad to see him smirk. “All eighty-seven tomes?”

From chapter 10 "The Best Laid Plans" of my AO3 fanfiction "The Black Occamy"

(Or: I have decided to learn how to art for the sheer pleasure of illustrating my own fanfiction and gods, is this fun to do!)

[unfriendlymollusk]

The Evans Boy Ch. 101 "Cakes"

The semester is over 😌

https://archiveofourown.org/works/51358966?view_full_work=true

[black-occamy]

This.

The first reason why Gemma is a self-insert is, obviously, the fact I fell for Sirius HARD when I was 16 and it just never stopped. It evolved. So did my writing skills.

Is she a more sexy\capable\cooler\better-looking variant of myself? Well, why not? Is the above because of plot and character reasons? Yes, obviously. Is it because I want to be all those things? Not all of that actually, no. But it's fun to imagine being them. Does it make her a Mary Sue? Well, you can be the judge of that, but the aforementioned writing skills helped her avoid that fate.

Do I encourage people writing OC self-inserts? Fuck yes. If that's what makes the point of fanfiction to you - which, a reminder, is supposed to be MAINLY for the entertainment of the creator - THEN DON'T LET ANYONE STOP YOU.

Sure as hell no one will stop me.

The stigma of self-inserts is so harmful to the creative process. Relax. Admit it. Everything you make is derivative of yourself, always, no exceptions. You can turn the mirror into tinier and tinier shards or you can make it as big as you want to reflect as much as you want. At the end of the day it's always going to show you inside of it. Pretending otherwise is stupid.

[black-occamy-arts-and-crafts]

I'm experimenting with different needles for embroidery recently and decided to make it everyone's problem, so here is:

Opinions on sewing needles nobody asked for by Occamy.

From left to right:

Typical nickel-plated sewing needle.

PONY black chenille needle without nickel, size 22

PONY gold plated chenille needle, size 24

DMC gold plated embroidery needle with round tip, size 22

No 1:

I probably inherited that one from my grandma's sewing kits or something. It's one of those needles you can get in any store, good for sewing absolutely anything. It's biggest issue is... I destroyed it with my fingers. It's probably something about the sweat or such, but you can probably see how satine and dark it is in the middle where it has contact with the skin. This causes the needle to go through fabric with more traction and is frankly just irritating. And it's the only reason why I started looking for an alternative, because - and it is true - I went through three needles just embroidering the wizard's tower. If it wasn't for my toxic skin I wouldn't even think of looking for a new needle 🫣

No.2

I got excited both by "no nickel" and how smexy goth it looks like. Unfortunately, it's satine and plainly uncomfortable to hold from the very start, so it was a big NO immediately. Pity, I really like how it looks.

No.3

Used it for about three days and I think it actually gives me some sort of allergies. That or it's a huge coincidence that my fingertips on my dominant right hand got suddenly very dry and scratchy. Other than that, the very top of the needle (above the eye) is surprisingly sharp and uncomfortable to push through the fabric in the long run. So, again, a no from me.

No.4

So far the best of them. It's pleasantly smooth and the top is a bit more rounded than no.3, so it's easier on the fingers. The only downside is the round tip - it is possible to embroider through jeans and canvas (as I do right now), but it's not comfortable. I'm already waiting for next delivery with a few more DMC variants to check on, so expect an update in a couple days.

It's worth noting that bigger eyes of 2, 3 and 4 make it much easier to thread them, but I personally don't bother much with that - I'm actually enjoying the challenge of threading needles xD

That's it, that's me rambling about needles. Nobody asked for this, but, you know.

I hope you relate 🫣

[black-occamy]

I had a bit of a writer's block last week, and a friend of mine recommended to write something random.

So here's a random animagus being cute...

Can be read as either gender or none.

-------------------

If one were to walk past the common bathroom in the dungeons, and then venture through the corridor next to the storage cellars, one would arrive at a rusty-looking door that led to the overgrown castle gardens. The area was not commonly visited by students - perhaps because it was the easiest to access from the Slytherin dormitory entrance. Or maybe it was the fact that crumbling ground gave way to steep cliffs overlooking the Black Lake. Either way, you knew it was usually secluded enough to be a comfortable and quiet reading space, where you could hope to be unbothered for at least a couple of hours.

That being said, today was obviously not a usual day.

Once you reached your favourite reading spot on a slightly tilted stone bench under the forgotten pear tree, you noticed something that was not supposed to be there. As if waiting for you specifically, a big black dog was lying on the ground in front of the bench, head on its paws. You stopped. It had definitely noticed you, its pointy ears twitching at the sound of your steps, but beside that it did nothing.

Well, at least nothing yet.

Hesitantly, you slipped your right hand into the robe pocket, feeling for your wand. There were a couple of possible explanations for the dog's presence here. It could belong to another student, or it could be a familiar of someone visiting the castle. Finally - though unlikely - it could belong to some non-magical hikers from whom it escaped. Either way, you were pretty certain that a well-targeted spell would incapacitate it, even if it was magical. You hoped it wouldn't come to that, though. Scary or not, it was still just a dog. And even though you were never fully comfortable around animals, a small part of you really wanted to change that.

As if bored by waiting for your move, the dog raised its head and gazed in your direction. You looked dead into its eyes, while the sanity in the back of your mind screamed that a dog could interpret that as a challenge and an invitation to fight. Its eyes were pale grey, and it blinked almost immediately, tilting its head to the side and lolling its tongue out in an expression that kind of looked like a smile. Its wagging tail thumped against the ground.

“You're in my spot,” you said out loud, before catching yourself realising that you were arguing with an animal. The dog rose to its feet, tail still wagging. It was bigger than you initially thought. Its head would easily reach your elbow.

Feeling a sudden chill down your spine, you considered your options again. The dog didn't seem aggressive, at least. Its presence in your almost exclusively private spot was more annoying than anything, but then again..

“Go home,” you demanded, trying to sound stern but not angry. “Go to your owner or whatever. Go, shoo!”

The dog tilted its head left then right, its ears put up as if it was confused.

“I told you, that is my spot,” you repeated, slightly irritated by the lack of communication. “Off with you!”

You waved your right - wandless - hand at it, pulling the book to your chest with your left. The dog yawned and stretched lazily, shaking itself as if it just got out of a bath. Then it took a few steps to the side and sat down in the grass, leaving a good ten feet between itself and the bench.

You stared at it for a few more seconds, irked by its happy panting and tongue lolling out again. It seemed pleased with itself.

“Oh, for... Whatever then.”

You walked by it, taking a seat on the bench. It was mid-afternoon, and its smooth stone surface was already pleasantly warmed by the sun. Yet, instead of being a comfort, it agitated you even more. You opened the book, determined to focus on your studies.

Couple minutes passed in silence before you thought you heard something. Immediately, your head snapped in the direction of the dog.

It was still in the same spot, looking at you. This time it lowered its head and made a small whine. It almost felt like it was asking a question.

You ignored it, turning back to the book in your hands. You skipped one Charms class because of that Gryffindor menace, Sirius Black, the other day. If you didn't catch up with the material, Flitwick was bound to give you a detention. Plus, the dog didn't belong to you. You could hardly be expected to...

It whined again, a bit more intently.

“Stars above!” You rolled your eyes and shot it an angry glance. The dog wagged its tail. “What do you want from me?”

Obviously encouraged by your attention, it stood up. Once again, the sheer size of the animal made you uncomfortable, when it approached the bench, its tail wagging excitedly. Your hand unconsciously reached into the pocket again.

“I'm busy,” you said, completely certain there was no point in explaining yourself to this creature. “I don't have snacks or anything, leave me alone.”

It stopped next to the bench, tail whooshing left to right, its ears pulled a little lower and whined again. You stared, determined not to encourage further interaction. It was starting to get on your nerves.

The dog licked its gums, whined once more and then, all of a sudden, rolled on its back on the ground, exposing its belly. You felt your mouth open in surprise when it waved its front paws at you.

“Look there, you seem like a good...” Somewhat flustered for no apparent reason you shot a quick glance at it. “Boy. Very good boy. You're kinda barking at the wrong target here. I don't know if you want me to give you scratches or if you will bite my hand off if I try.”

The dog rolled back to his belly, front paws wide and tail wagging furiously. He made a short, happy bark.

“Morgan's hair, you actually barked!” You laughed, unable to resist the smile spreading across your face. The dog barked in response. “Okay, okay, quiet down. I'll scratch you.”

You put the book down, and slowly reached towards the animal with your hand, still a bit wary.

“I'm trusting you, Good Boy,” you said, trying not to think about the shortest route from here to the hospital wing.

The dog sniffed on your fingers and gave your hand a lick. Carefully, you patted his snout and the top of his head, scratching between the ears. His fur was softer than you expected.

“There, scratched,” you said, pulling back. “Are we done?”

The dog whined at you, and again rolled to his back, tilting his head to the side expectantly. You closed your eyes for a moment and sighed.

“I swear, if that's a ploy to bite my hand off, I'm going to be really cross with you, Good Boy,” you warned, getting off the bench and kneeling on the ground next to the dog. You gave his belly a gentle rub. “Happy now?”

He jumped back to his feet, his head now above yours when you looked up a bit startled. Warm, wet tongue licked the side of your face and you couldn't help but giggle in response.

“Stop it! You're sweet, but that's too much for a first date!”

The dog bounced off, gave you one happy bark and ran away towards the castle. You watched it disappearing in the distance. You wiped your cheek, feeling a warmth spreading across your chest. That wasn't so bad, actually.

You read about Charms for the next hour or so, resting your back against the tree trunk, until you got hungry and realised it was probably time for supper. Stretching lazily, you got up and began walking around the castle walls. To your surprise, there was a familiar silhouette waiting for you on the crumbling battlements.

“Hey there,” Sirius said, grinning at you from where he was perched on the wall.

“Hey yourself,” you replied, shielding your eyes from the afternoon sun with the book. “What are you doing up there?”

“Admiring the views.”

You rolled your eyes, watching as he slid down the wall next to you and dusted off his trousers.

“Have you seen that black dog?” You asked and Sirius glanced at you with a surprised smile.

“What now?”

“I was reading in my usual spot and that dog was there, practically demanding to be cuddled,” you explained, sliding your hand around his elbow as the two of you began to walk along the walls together. “Caught me by surprise.”

“Oh?” Sirius smirked. “What did you do? I recall you saying you don't feel comfortable around big animals.”

“Surprisingly enough, I did cuddle it... Him,” you corrected yourself and smiled. “It was nicer than I expected it would be.”

You caught Sirius glancing at you with the corner of your eye. He seemed pleased with himself for some reason, and you pulled him to a stop.

“What are you so smug about, Black?”

“Me? I'm just proud of you, beloved!” He protested, but his eyes had that mischievous glean to it that you have learned to recognise.

“Did you have something to do with that dog?” You asked, suspicion rising in your voice. “Better tell me already, or stars help me...”

He laughed, leaning forward to look you in the eyes.

“And if I did?” He teased, catching your hand and kissing your fingers. “Don't tell me that interaction wasn't fun for you.”

“I hate your manipulative ass, Black,” you scoffed, unable to hold back a smile. “Where did you get that dog from anyway?”

“It will have to remain my little secret,” he replied, wrapping his arm around your shoulders. You didn't protest.

“Shame. I was starting to like him.”

[velvetwyrms]

[muffled laughing]

All I do is fawn over remus & tonks and draw them making out, which is basically 90% of my WIPs currently ahahaha. I just love them being so in love <3 Tonks fully dropped him 30 seconds later but don't worry remus was expecting it.

As always, click for better quality, please do not repost, reblogging stops my hours of work from dying in your like and lets others enjoy this too! <3

Honorary mentions: @black-occamy @celestemagnoliathewriter @in-love-with-remus-lupin @moonysdora

[black-occamy]

...yet, snh snh snh...

[basiatlu]

@black-occamy here. Wdyt about drawing some more post-Azkaban Sirius with those killer cheekbones? 😊🖤

I think it goes without saying too much: I don’t need much prompting. But golly does he make me smile. As much as I enjoy carefree, marauder-rebel Sirius - I love me a jaded, poorly coping, ex-convict Sirius.

[partlystiles]

Hey uhh. Can you make a part 2 of Barty and reader talking about their dads but this time they meet in the future and hoe reader died? I sort of need some angst

PT 1

barty crouch jr x fem!reader

summary: a run-in with a relative of someone from his past makes Barty's head turn.

Warnings: swearing, use of alcohol, mentions of death.

sorry it's been a while!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

My dearest Barty,

Enclosed in this letter is an Occamy feather for you! You better like it because I nearly died getting it for you, I had to resort to the mating dance and screeching loudly so it wouldn't attack. They are very aggressive and protective over their eggs, just like I knew but I can't believe I managed to tame one.

Of course I didn't manage to get an egg, but I have a drawing of it in my case that I will bring back to you and tell you all about.

India is so much fun! I've learned Bollywood dancing, visited a lot of the temples, trekked in the Himalayans to get to the Occamy of course. I even came during Diwali and everything is so beautiful!

I wish you were here with me. You'd love the dancing, even if you think you wouldn't, I know it. I'll be home soon, happily back with you. Little Elijah or Eleanor, whichever one it is, has been kicking for their daddy. Misses you almost as much as I do.

I know you had your doubts about me going to India whilst five months pregnant but I've run into no trouble whatsoever, just a little kick here and there but you were there for the first one. It should be about 4 more days until I'm back and I'm so excited!

I'm hoping that everything is okay back home. I know there's been more recent disappearances, even Regulus Black. Poor boy. He was so nice to me, I can't imagine how his brother is feeling. As long as you're safe then I'm happy, very happy.

Four months until our baby comes into the world!

Boat is boarding soon, so I'll go post this letter now. I love you so much! See you soon.

Y/N x

Bartemius Crouch read the letter over and over again. And then again. Until he felt numb inside, numb all over until somebody had to physically force him out of his chair, let alone out of his house. His heart was shattered, crawling back together to try and attach itself again, but it didn't work. Everything just crumpled again, crumpled like the letter in Barty's hand that was stained with blood, tears and sweat.

Multiple times it had been fished out of the garbage, multiple times he had tried to smooth all of the wrinkles back out of the paper so he could read it one more time. Multiple times he had been on the verge of incinerating every inky last word...but he never did. Because he could never ever get rid of her, the thought of her, the knowledge of her. Her and his baby who was never ever birthed.

Little Elijah or Eleanor never met their daddy and their daddy never got to look into the eyes of his child and softly rock them from side to side whilst singing them to sleep. It was a loss greater than anything, but nothing will ever be greater than the loss of his wife. His sun, his moon, his eclipse. Without her, his nights were darkened, his days were lost and Bartemius Crouch Junior withered away in his grand house, wishing his love was still in his arms.

However, a knock at the door interrupted his nightmare of a daydream. A grunt escaped his lips at the sound of it, his hand's grip on his glass of alcohol tightening at the rim as his other hand wiped at his spiked stubble around his chin in an uninterested gleam.

"Go away." Barty raised his voice a little, stumbling up from his dishevelled armchair and letting the rest of the letter from his wife's travel that sat on his lap fall to the wooden floor below him. "No one's home."

As he tried to stumble away again, tipping the last of the alcohol down his throat, he heard his door open anyway. Despite the obvious want of not having someone with him at that current time, he could hear footsteps behind him, entering the grand room with an air of purpose and especially an air of arrogance.

"I said GO AWAY." Barty swivelled around, chucking his glass at the doorway that the person was stood in. They didn't flinch at all, but the glass smashed above the archway and the shattered pieces fell down to the floor. "Fucking...fuckin bitch. Fuckin leave."

"Mr. Crouch, please." The man in the doorway removed his hat from his head, holding it in front of him as he watched the broken man trip around his drawing room, walking to his fireplace. "I'm here to talk about my daughter. I believe you knew her. Her name was Y/N."

At once, Barty paused in his place beside the fireplace, his hand grappled on the mantelpiece as his eyes narrowed into fierce slits at the mention of the name. The man grunted drunkenly again, shaking his head as his hands slapped against the mantelpiece multiple times before he decided to hit his head instead.

"Don't..." He drawled, his voice like gravel scraping against his vocal chords before he looked at the man in the doorway. The man had a shadow cast over his face but the firelight highlighting his nose told Barty that he was a spitting image of his dear Y/N. "Don't act like you fuckin' cared about...about her. I know what you did."

"I-I didn't do anything. My girl ran away when she was 17...I've been trying to find her for years. They led me here."

"Well, you're about a year too late, old man." Barty chuckled darkly, pushing himself away from the fireplace to swipe his bottle of alcohol off of his coffee table, pouring a hefty bit into a new glass. "She's dead."

"I was afraid of that." The man sighed, shaking his head and Barty downed about half of his drink before squinting and facing the man again. This time with more suspicion as he began to wring his hat in his hands. "She always was reckless. Running off, wanting to explore the world when I had a perfectly good job lined up for her at the ministry."

"Maybe she didn't want to be a fucking brainless clone." Barty spat, placing his glass down on the table before running his hands through his growing hair and over his face disappointedly. "And why the hell did it take you five fucking years to go looking for her? Ask anyone, it would've led you to me. You wanna fucking know why?"

"I don't-"

"I was the one who convinced her to run away." He whispered comically, pointing to himself with a crazed laugh as his lover's father straightened up a little at the amusement Barty was taking. "Right after I put a ring on her finger, we ran all the way to fucking Glasglow and got married in a stable. How's that for your precious little girl?"

"You drove my daughter away from me!" The man walked towards Barty, who picked up his glass and downed the rest of the alcohol before turning until he was chest to chest with the man. "She could've had a great life. A great job with a great salary and a great husband with a son and a daughter. You took that from her?"

"You drove her away from you yourself!" Barty stumbled more, but poked a finger onto the man's chest anyway, eyeing his own wand on the table just metres away. "It was her dream to travel the world and that's exactly what I...what I let her do, what I encouraged her to do. She was fucking happy, fuckin' joyful. With me. With my child inside of her. But of course you and your fucking ministry can't leave a man alone for two seconds-"

"You see, she was coming home from India, 5 months pregnant with my baby- and she- and she, she was on the same boat as another Death Eater. I didn't even know the guy that well. You ministry Aurors showed up, and she was caught in the crossfire. She died. My baby died. My whole life was ripped away from me because of YOU. YOU AND YOUR FUCKING- YOU'RE FUCKING..."

"Spit it out, son." The ministry worker said, stepping back from the boy as Barty reached into his pocket and yanked out her goodbye letter, crumpling it again in his hand before he looked back at the man, quivering with rage.

"GET THE FUCK OUT OF MY HOUSE. GO." He shoved his hands out, hitting the man away from him, but the elder one didn't even budge as Barty's weak drunken form pushed and pushed at the body. "GET OUT. SHE WOULDN'T WANT YOU HERE. LEAVE. Fuckin-"

Bartemius reached his hand out, bending down in his pause from slapping his late wife's father to walk over to the coffee table where his wand sat. He picked up his wand, pointing it at the man in front of him who now did stumble backwards at the sight of the crazed man threatening him with his wand. Although it seemed as though Barty couldn't get a clear shot.

"Avada Kedavra." A blinding flash of light and a thud reverberated around the room as Barty was left alone, stumbling again though he didn't bother to pour himself another drink, he just grabbed the bottle and let it slide down his throat. "Fuckin' bitch, freakin' fucker...

... I want my baby."

[pssysht]

semi- colon ~ drarry part 1.

top draco

bottom harry

~ Use a semicolon to join two related independent clauses in place of a comma and a coordinating conjunction

‘but sir!’ harry protests, completely infuriated by snapes decision to pair draco and himself together for a potion assignment.

‘i don’t wish to hear it mr potter.’ snape mumbled as his cloak swished behind him and he sauntered back to the front of the room.

‘now your lab partners have been…allocated…you have 1 week, no more no less, to gather ingredients… and to create Felix Felicis goo… a… perfect… batch..’

harry groaned as snape slowly and painfully talked, rolling his eyes he looked over at malfoy who was already glaring at him. harry scoffed and faced the front again. this is ridiculous. it’s as if snape wanted harry to die, which now that he thought about it, was probably the exact reason they were paired together.

as harry collected his books and scurried out of the room his arm was caught by a strong grip. he turned to see a seething malfoy.

‘ok potter. seen as we have no choice. slytherin dorms at 8’ he scoffed before shoving past harry. harry’s jaw dropped at the sheer audacity of him. ordering him around like he’s his secretary. he shook his head, leaving the room finally to meet hermione and ron.

‘blimey harry, i wouldn’t want to be you right now’ ron laughed as harry explained his painful hour in potions.

‘thanks ron’ harry’s voice dull and unimpressed.

‘well i think you’ll have the best chance at creating the brew as malfoy is the best at potions’ hermione tried to share some light in the situation but harry just groaned and slammed his head against the dining table, unable to see the positives of spending a week after school with draco malfoy.

as it turned 8 o’clock harry stood by the slytherin entrance, waiting to be allowed in as the painting glared at him.

‘what?’ harry whispered annoyingly at the portrait who just turned his nose up and looked away. suddenly the door flew open as pansy parkinson allowed him in.

‘his rooms over to the right’ she sighed before walking away quickly. harry looked over to see a large oak door with the words ‘enter you die’ written in red ink over the wood. harry scoffed before knocking harshly, just wanting to get this night over with.

the door opened slowly and malfoy stood in a simple black shirt and sweatpants, opening the door wider for him. harry slipped in without a word before looking around and realising it to be a private dorm, with only one bed, a dresser, a wardrobe and a small chest at the foot of the bed.

‘of course’ harry laughed before dramatically dropping his bag on the floor and sitting on the chest.

‘so… what’s the plan’ harry asked as he looked back at malfoy who had already sat back down at his desk turned away from the boy.

‘was hoping you’d have the answer to that potter’ he sneered and spun around waiting. harry sighed and pulled out a piece of parchment with a quill.

‘what are the ingredients’ harry said, boredom dripping from his voice.

‘4 oz dragon liver ooze, 1/2 teaspoon occamy shell, 1 teaspoon squill bulb juice, 2-3 drops salamander blood, dash of murtlap tentacles.’ draco said way too quickly for harry’s hand to scribble down.

‘you lost me at 1/2 teaspoon’

draco groans before grabbing his wand and casting harry’s quill to pull away from harry���s hand to write the ingredients quickly.

‘ok… so what now’ harry’s unimpressed expression clear.

draco threw his head forward and sighed, he stood up, pushing harry off the chest and opening it up, grabbing a jar from the bottom corner. before he could close it harry saw a stack off old leather notepads, and almost giggled at the obviousness of draco malfoy keeping a diary for every year at hogwarts.

‘this is the squill bulb juice, tomorrow we will have to find a salamander.’ draco holds the jar up to harry’s face, its contents swishing around slowly, glowing in the slight darkness of the room.

‘fine’ harry scoffed before picking up his bag and leaving, there was not a single point of that interaction, he could have been playing chess with ron or watching neville dance around the room in his fancy shoes. anything is more entertaining than that small time spent with him.

the next morning he’s rudely awoken by ron shaking him.

‘dracos waiting for you mate’ ron laughed as harry slammed his head back into his pillow and screamed.

as he threw on his clothes he cursed the day malfoy was born, how if his mother didn’t find lucius the slightest bit attractive he could be sleeping in right now, rather than spending the morning with a blonde slightly attrac- annoying git.

‘why do i have such the pleasure to see your face so early in the morning malfoy’ harry complains as he steps out of the gryfindor dorm. draco rolls his eyes before turning and walking away. is he seriously asking him to follow behind?

either way harry drags his feet behind him, waiting to be told the reason for his early bird morning. draco continues to walk as he leaves the castle, entering the small wooded area, thankfully less scary than the forbidden forest a few miles to the right.

they come across a lake, filled with weird creatures.

‘get in’ draco says his first words, and harry looks at him with his mouth open.

‘you’re kidding’ harry protests, standing back slightly. draco shakes his head and aggressively points to the water edge.

‘we need salamander blood’ he shrugs. potter looks at him in disbelief as he turns his head from draco to the water and back to draco repeatedly.

‘why don’t you get in’ harry is for sure not being woken up before the sun has even really revealed itself and then forced into a cold lake. draco looks at him with his eyebrow raised, of course hes not going in.

‘i have the first ingredient already in my room, it’s your responsibility to find the next.’ he states matter of factly. harry slowly approaches the water edge, seeing multiple creatures resembling the one he’s looking for, as he’s about to turn around draco pushes his rather harshly into the water. harry gasps as the cold water hits his body. he lays in shock until a loud laugh is heard from behind him, he turns to see draco keeled over in a fit of laughter, slapping his knee.

‘malfoy… you’re going to die’ harry explains calmly, before reaching for his wand and forcing draco into the water too. draco’s face forces harry into a fit of laughter too, his hair flat to his head.

harry looks around and notices the ruckus they made entering the water scared all the salamanders away, except for a small one with its tail stuck under dracos leg.

‘draco don’t move’ harry explains calmly, his hand slowly reaching for his leg. draco being draco screams at the unknown and jumps out of the water.

‘what.the.fuck’ harry sighs as the only creature left in this lake rushes away.

and so, draco and harry spent the next hour jumping and diving to catch a salamander, finally capturing an old slow one. as they walk back to the castle, dripping wet and freezing, harry realised this morning had actually been a little enjoyable, minus the fact draco was there too.

‘see you same time tomorrow potter’ malfoy mutters before walking the opposite direction to shower.

‘wait wha-‘

and he kept his promise, the next morning harry is yet again woken up at the crack of dawn to sneak into snapes cupboard of ingredients for dragon liver ooze, which may be cheating but how exactly are they supposed to retrieve it the traditional way without dying?

‘you barely survived the tournament with the dragon, this is easier’ draco whispered as they snuck into the very small cupboard. their backs touch as they search opposite walls scouring for the bottle.

‘you know if we get caught im going to blame this entirely on you’ harry said while still scanning each isle. draco chuckles and suddenly throws himself back into harry, causing potters hand to swipe a bottle of pearl dust off the shelf, resulting in a very shimmery explosion as it smashed against the floor.

‘malfoy! you’re going to get us killed!’ harry yelled, trying to scoop up the substance. draco just smirked before leaning over harry, grabbing the bottle they were searching for and dashes out the door, leaving a very incriminating scene for harry to explain. harry curses and dashes out the room, catching up to malfoy out of breath.

‘we are so gunna get caught’ he says as he heavily breathes, leaning onto the wall. malfoy shrugs before walking away, promising to see him the next morning.

[black-occamy]

Archie?

❄️🪶Goofy Ravens Playing in the Snow🪶❄️

[hogwartsthenextgeneration]

Molly Fēn Weasley

Molly Fēn Weasley

Nickname: Mols

Sexuality: Lesbian

Ethnicity: 1/4 English, 1/4 Irish, 1/2 Chinese

DOB: 17/12/2000

Parents: Percy & Audrey Zhào

Siblings: Lucy

Godparents: George & Andrew Zhào

Best friends: Charles Reynor, May Carson, Luke Begum, Patricia Yang, Hope Carmichael, Karl Harrison

Started Hogwarts: 2012

House: Slytherin

Wand: Dragon Heartstring, Ebony, 9 3/4”

Patronus: Occamy

Boggart: Being trappped

Ex curricular: Astrology/ Astronomy

Best subject: Astronomy

Worst Subject: Flying/ Herbology

Hair: Black, straight and cut to above shoulders

Eye colour: dark brown

Build: 5ft 1”, average

Favourite music genre: Rock/ Indie/ Alternative

Favourite artists: AC/DC, The Vaccines, Wolf Alice, Guns n Roses

Favourite song: Don’t Delete the Kisses - Wolf Alice / Back in Black - AC/DC

Health: Depression

Career: Astronomer

Future: Molly marries Holyhead Harpies Quidditch star Wren McKinnon age 27 (2028). They meet through Dominique who played for the same team as Wren at the time. They live in Anglesey, Wales and adopted 3 children:

•Willow Honey Weasley-McKinnon (female, b. 2029)

•Isaac Reuben Weasley-McKinnon (male, b. 2030)

•Maia Juno Weasley-McKinnon (female, b. 2032)

[black-occamy]

Remadora Microfics - Day 1: Haunted

Written for @remadoramicrofics October prompts, 916 words I almost failed in writing it on time...

Written as part of my Occamy-verse AU, so: everybody lives, everybody lives HAPPILY, there will be insane amount of fluff and cuteness, there will be mentions of polyamory.

The carousel began to rotate, children’s shouts overlapping with the merry music. Remus stood on the side with a bunch of other parents, watching the oversize teacups begin to swirl. He searched for Teddy’s blue hair with his eyes, noticing the boy was happily shouting something to the other kids in his cup. It wasn’t like he would be leaving them alone, he reminded himself.

“C’mon, Rem,” Dora tugged on his arm, much like a giddy kid herself. “They’re not gonna disappear if you stop watching for a bloody second.”

If anyone had bothered to ask him before, Remus would have a number of arguments as to why having a date night at the Muggle amusement park would not be his personal choice. Unlucky for him, neither Dora, nor Sirius bothered, instead arranging to take him and all the kids from Grimmauld Place to spend an evening out as a surprise. He didn’t even have his regular supportive voice of Gemma, who was out on the Auror business this week. Faced with a bunch of pre-purchased tickets, and the pleading eyes of Teddy and Lenore, he could hardly refuse.

Keep reading under the cut or on AO3 ❤

Remus spotted his daughter in another carousel vessel. She was completely focused on drawing more tattoos on Sirius, who was seemingly dozing off, one of his arms casually thrown over the edge of his seat. On the previous ride, it was Scorpius who had won the opportunity to ride with “Uncle Pads” and diligently drew even more rune-like symbols on Sirius’ palms than there was already. The boy apparently didn’t notice that as soon as the ride ended, all the drawings mysteriously disappeared.

“Rem, for Merlin’s sake,” Dora finally managed to pull him away, leading him through the crowd of people towards some other carnival attraction. “Sirius offered to look after those little monsters, stop worrying.”

“You know how I don’t like you two ganging up on me,” he complained half-heartedly, following her. His wife cast him a smug look over her shoulder and grinned.

“Cheer up, love. You’ve been spending too much time working lately, you deserve a break.”

Remus sighed. She wasn’t wrong there. Between preparing for classes and finishing his second book, he hardly had enough time to spend with the family and often he would just excuse himself and fall asleep before Dora was even done putting the kids to their beds.

“I know, I’m sorry for…”

“We’re here!” She interrupted him gleefully. “What do you think?”

He raised his eyebrows quizzically. They stood in front of a dilapidated construction that tried to pretend that it was a mansion of some sorts. Tattered curtains swayed on non-existent wind from broken windows. Front door, with remnants of torn-off wooden boards, was wide open, leading off to a dimly lit corridor. An older lady in black laced gown was sitting on a small chair next to it.

“Welcome to the Haunted House,” she sighed as they approached, shooting them a bored look from above the crossword puzzle. “Two tickets for you, lovelies?”

“Yes, please, ma’am!” Dora beamed, scooping the tickets from the crooked fingers. Remus fought the urge to roll his eyes.

The inside was no less cardboard-looking as the front, with flickering electric light pretending to be candle flame and artificial cobwebs covering almost every surface in amounts and patterns that somehow made him think of a really crochet-oriented spider. Dora snickered to herself, passing from room to room, while several jump-scare mannequins kept popping from left or right. There was an old bed linen with holes for the eyes, a skeleton with a few missing ribs, something that was barely resembling an old-school Dracula and a scrawny-looking furry creature that made Remus snort in amusement. He watched Dora as she wrapped her arm around the vampire-like mannequin and turned her face pale white to match it.

“Behold, overvorked mortal,” she called in an accent that didn’t resemble anything in particular, but somehow did indeed sound like a vampire should. “Vor I am Baroness ov dis mansion and I ‘ave cometh vor your blood!”

“Oh, woe on me,” Remus gasped, hiding a smile. “I’m all out of blood at the moment. Will cotton candy outside be enough, your baronessness?”

“Vot is dat cotton-candy ye speaketh ov, mortal?” Dora abandoned the mannequin and ran in his direction, wrapping her arms around his shoulders. She flashed him a smile, showing off she transformed her teeth into pointy fangs. For some reason it looked really good on her.

“Someone will see, Dora,” Remus protested weakly, not sure if he was thinking about her morphing ability or the sudden display of affection. She scoffed and rose to her tiptoes to press a kiss to his lips. He didn’t oppose that.

“You’re no fun sometimes, Remus,” she murmured, rubbing her nose against his. “Who cares if someone sees us? We’re bloody grownups, with kids, for Merlin’s sake!”

“Well, we’re also in public…”

“We’re in a public haunted mansion, big deal,” she gave him another kiss. “I have an idea. Let’s hide in that coffin, make out, and then scare the shit of some non-magicals, yeah?”

“Hmmm, yes to the first and to the second, but hell no to the third.”

“No fun, this one,” Dora sighed, pulling his arm. “C’mon then. We have about twenty minutes before Sirius gets nauseated from all the cup spinning and loses one of the kids. I hope it’s Teddy.”

“Mother of the year, my wife, everyone.”

“Shut up and kiss me, werewolf boy.”