#thewrongsorts
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@thewrongsorts sent a letter to elphias doge: ‘‘ just tell me everything’s gonna be okay. ’’
prompt: softer prompts.
Silence settles between them as her voice trails off, heavy as a winter duvet. Intertwining his hands, Elphias peers at Alice from under his bushy brows. What she is asking of him is simple enough to do — considering the situation, who wouldn't want to hear reassuring words from a friend ?
Yet, Elphias hesitates visibly. He opens his mouth, starts to say ❝ Alice... ❞ and, when nothing else follows, he closes his mouth, sighing through his nose. It's not that simple — truth be told.
Indeed, in any other situation he would gladly reassure a friend, perhaps adding a wide smile that would do nothing else but emphasize the wrinkles around his mouth. But now ? ❝ Alice, ❞ again, Elphias starts with her name, leaning ever so slightly forward. ❝ Everything is going to be okay, ❞ now, when he doesn't even believe his own words, it feels like he just told Alice an obvious lie. ❝ Everything, ❞ it's this that he decides to repeat, thinking that, by voicing it with more certainty, it would make even himself believe it to be true.
#⌠ . elphias doge : responses.#⌠ . answered letters.#thewrongsorts#⌠ . thewrongsorts : alice longbottom.#thank you lots for sending this in‚ Cían! ♡ let me know if it works!
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@thewrongsorts
☆゚. * ・ 。゚, ❝ Oy, is it true you're staying the entire month?! ❞ A bit of excitement in his voice as he asks Charlie. If true, once George got home he'd be pretty thrilled with it too. ❝ Is there a special occasion? Or you just miss us that much? ❞ He teased.
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‘ oh , you’re giving the speech tonight? ’ (kingsley, for harry)
Harry absolutely stilled. Him? He was giving the speech? Was Shacklebolt asking him, or telling him? Harry had not been prepared for a speech, but as Mad-Eye muttered and droned on about how ‘this wasn’t my plan but it has merit’ and ‘the boy surprisingly knows what he’s doing’, Harry knew that Kingsley was right. Moody was getting ready to hand the reigns over to him, and he wasn’t ready. He wasn’t ready by far to lead an Order of the Phoenix meeting! Oh no. Leading one for Dumbledore’s Army was bad enough, but at least that was only with kids his own age. And besides, Harry hadn’t even made this plan! He had just… helped.
Soon, a hand was coming down on his shoulder and the weight of it made Harry wince. He knew Mad-Eye’s hand. He had clasped him over the shoulder like this many times before, but this time it was to shove him to the forefront of the crowd. This was punishment, he was sure of it, for insisting he was ready to join the Order. So there were two options. Either admit he was wrong and he wasn’t ready for this… or…
Harry cleared his throat. “Right… thanks, Profes- er. Moody. Thanks, Moody.” That was still weird. But he had caught his robot eye dead on and felt the annoyance at almost being called Professor again. “So erm… from what we’ve gathered, they’re going to be inducting students in the Forbidden Forest after the sorting dinner this year. We know that the school isn’t, er, going to be safe this year. Nothing is now. That’s a given.” He caught Kingsley’s eye and swallowed back his nerves a little. “But if we can get our feet on the ground in the places most likely to be used, then we can catch some current Death Eaters and save some students from making the mistake of becoming one. I know the forest well enough… and these are the three most likely locations.” Harry pulled up a rough map and cleared his throat again. “And this… is where I’d bet they’re going to show.” He pointed to a clearing.
#thewrongsorts#[ 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚋𝚘𝚢 𝚠𝚑𝚘 𝚕𝚒𝚟𝚎𝚍 / harry potter ]#[ 𝚛𝚎𝚙𝚕𝚒𝚎𝚜 / harry potter ]#[ 𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚜𝚎 . 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚘𝚛𝚍𝚎𝚛 / harry potter ]#apparently I put this in a verse where the trio doesn't run off to destroy horcruxes and instead he joins the order properly?#i do not have a write up for this it's new xD
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“ do you expect me to believe that you’ve changed ? ” // ??? // @thewrongsorts , James Potter
"Ha."
Severus scoffed, not the least bit surprised. Here comes James Potter, the audience's most beloved, to steal the show. His line delivered with an expert level of skepticism that Severus could not contend. No need to ask for their line when its already been taken. Nimue forbid if they were ever to say it themself. Their head would be had and not even by Potter himself.
Why should they justify their presence? Albus asked them to be as they are, not to play nice and pretend. Severus does not need to be anything more than civil when anything else would be well ignored and rejected.
With a wry smile, wine colored lips creased, they remarked with ease, sitting back in their office chair; legs crossed, and hands entwined upon their knees, "Why would I expect you to believe anything?"
Truly. It would be nothing less than foolish of them.
Time has treated neither Potter or Severus well. Be it the aging mind at all too young of an age, or the wrinkles and creases that are blatantly on display. Well concealed under a layer of makeup applied with the utmost precision on their part, skills well earned from years of caring for their mother. The clothes on their back is finer than anything Severus has worn when he and they were younger. An elegant witch's robe from an unknown tailor, coveting the finest shade of black. All consuming where strands of ink blended into the material with ease.
"You have your own truths," Severus pointed out, "What I say or believe means nothing."
"Spin your story, Potter," they continued, returning to their work at hand. Recording recipes improved by their own two hands to pass on to children who will never see beyond the written word society oh so worshipped well.
"I'm sure I'll play my part as intended."
#ˏˋ°•⁀➷ EGLCNTINE * ANSWERED ‚ fingertips stained with ink .#ˏˋ°•⁀➷ SEVERUS SNAPE * IC ‚ prince with a thousand enemies .#ˏˋ°•⁀➷ SEVERUS SNAPE * V : GOLDEN TRIO ERA ‚ prince with a thousand enemies .#thewrongsorts#thewrongsorts ; james potter
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❛ today isn’t your day, is it? ❜ (manon)
@thewrongsorts
Chris sighed along with a low grumble of annoyance. Thanks to the spilled hot chocolate that stained his shirt. The baker couldn't be too mad, it was his own fault for moving too fast. Luckily, it was just him and Manon, so he didn't mind making the mistakes.
He grabbed a towel, carefully wiping up the spill from the table.
"When you're right," Chris began, "You're right. But it's only the second mistake of the day...nothing else could go wrong."
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“I think the cat just ate some tinsel off the tree.” (james, for sirius)
"shit, what?" he spins around from where he's decorating a dollhouse for harry. he bought it from a muggle store, but that's not good enough! he's got to update it. it's got to be wizardized. he's charming the doors to open when they're poked and the lights to turn on and music to play - which he's sure is going to positively thrill everyone. he might repaint the dolls to have little cloaks.
okay, so maybe he's making a dollhouse he wishes he had when he was little. that's the point of being an uncle, right?
"i'm not a cat healer." he is, sometimes, a dog and wolf healer. "you're going to have to poke through it's poop. that's a you thing now."
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@thewrongsorts
“so… are we not gonna talk about whatever you just nudged under the bed?” (james)
"Do we have to...?" Eris asked with a raised brow and tilted head, and an innocent look playing on her features as if that would be enough to deter her uncles line of questioning. "I think the real question here is: do you really want to know?"
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Was this normal small-child behavior? Imogen had no frame of reference to compare it to. She seemed to recall something about children always asking incessant questions — or maybe that was just Imogen-as-a-child, and this was cosmic retribution for all those times she bothered Professor Snape — but surely they weren't supposed to ask this many in such rapid succession. And would she have recognized a warding diagram or questioned how it worked at... well, at whatever age this girl was?
Well, most likely, yes. But then, Imogen-as-a-child knew enough about the inner workings of spells to start inventing her own at the age of thirteen, so she suspected she might be an outlier in that regard.
(How big was a thirteen-year-old supposed to be again?)
Whether or not this small, possibly-thirteen-year-old child was exhibiting abnormal behavior was really beside the point, though. The point was—
"You are lost, aren't you?" Imogen said. Normal or not, that 'no' sounded awfully shifty.
Should she... call... someone about this girl? Merlin's frilly knickers, she should probably do something. Right?
Haltingly, she climbed down from her ladder, feeling more like an under-socialized pet approaching a new kind of animal than she cared to admit. She tried to distract from this by gathering up her discarded notes and resisting the urge to explain how warding spells worked in great detail.
"Er - does Charlie know where you are?" Did normal small children wander off on purpose, or was Imogen just highly motivated to discover a secret passageway out of Hogwarts in her first year?
(How big was an eleven-year-old supposed to be again?)
"Do you know where Charlie is, for that matter?"
Merlin help her, she didn't know if she was cut out for the maternal responsibility of towing a small child around until she found the kid's uncle/babysitter/caregiver/redheaded-Weasley-of-unspecified-relation.
@iselwyn from here
Pru looked back up at Imogen, eyes wide and unwavering, mouth pursed in intense childish thought. This was an adult who didn't have to deal with children very often, she figured. Sometimes grown-ups had to learn how to talk to people her age.
"Uh-huh," she nodded absently. No offense to Charlie, but that's not interesting. Who else would she be here with? Midge isn't old enough to take her places.
"Does the pressure mean the fish hit harder? Or is the glass already..." She thought for a moment, face screwing up. "...adjusted to it?"
She'd like to see fish spit acid, she thought. It sounded like exactly the sort of thing her family was always trying to keep her away from.
"How do you test it?"
She scuffed her foot against the floor, crossing her legs to pick at something sticky on the sole. Adults were always so worried about being lost, but being lost usually really meant finding something cool.
"Noooo."
#hi hello i am shockingly enough not dead#also imogen has no idea what a child is and pru is right to treat her like an idiot for this#imogen you have faced down death eaters and giant venomous snakes and mcgonagall's disappointed stare#this is a CHILD imogen you need to CALM DOWN#things we lose have a way of coming back to us in the end if not always in the way we expect ( thread )#thewrongsorts#and that's what matters. trying ( verse )
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I really wanna cry 😭😭😭😭 I adore EVER SINGLE ONE OF HER FICS but I'm not a social media person so I just thought I hadn't seen any updates from her cuz ya know.... life and shit happens!
I usually don't find it weird when I don't see any updates from an author cuz they are people too with jobs and families so I usually just drop a comment with well wishes or encouragement and try not to be a bother or a stress factor
But this! What the hell is this!!!!???😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭 why are people like that? A kind person like Caf did. not. deserve this in her life 😡🤬🤬🤬🤬🤬🤬 SHAME TO WHOEVER YOU ARE THAT DID THIS TO HER!
I hope one day she'll grace us with her writing again 🥺
#caffeinatedflumadiddle#fanfic#son of sea foam#thewrongsort#merlin bbc#merlin#drarry#privacy#Respect your authors people
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@thewrongsorts sent a letter to horace slughorn: ‘‘ loyalty is the greatest gift of all. ’’
prompt: priory of the orange tree.
Horace directs a smile towards his former student — but it does not reach his eyes. Indeed, it is too tight there, at the corners, mirroring his well-hidden confusion. What brought on this sudden talk about loyalty ? Horace brings his hands towards the lapels of his coat, and takes a perhaps too-tight hold of them. Is it about ... ? No, the thought is brushed aside as though it is a mere speck of dust, not even giving it time to settle, and Horace shifts from one foot to the other.
It's not about him. It can’t be. Thinking this does little to reassure him, however.
❝ Indeed it is, m'boy, ❞ not wanting to let his silence stretch out even further, Horace answers using a tone that sounds decidingly more chipper than he feels. ❝ Indeed, ❞ a considering pause, then he continues thus. ❝ And it must not be given lightly, eh ? After all, ❞ a bushy brow arches upward, and he leans slightly forward, all the while keeping hold of the lapels. ❝ One never knows if it will be returned. ❞
#⌠ . horace slughorn : responses.#⌠ . answered letters.#thewrongsorts#⌠ . thewrongsorts : kingsley sambou.#thank you for sending this in‚ Cían! ♡ let me know if it works!
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* THEWRONGSORTS / ft. alice — “ you know you can talk to me. ”
despite the love she is given by all of her friends, lily feels impossibly alone. her pregnancy, though it’s planned — as it ever can be, at least — is nothing she expects . . . because she never expects to go through it without her mother or sister. and even though she and petunia have not been close since childhood, the knowledge that they are both pregnant at the same time, both of them without their mother, but without each other as well, is a new heartbreak to bear. she sniffles one more time, wiping at her face and looking to @thewrongsorts. alice is farther along than lily, but not by much. she is older, but she looks to lily with a sort of camaraderie even her closest friends cannot give. “ it just — all of it feels so sudden and so fast . . . but it also feels like every day will last forever. and i’m so happy — but i’m also afraid, and i feels so stupid for doing this all at once . . . ” emerald eyes fill up with tears anew. “ do you think i’m going to be a terrible mother, alice? ”
#╰ ––––––– ✧ LILY EVANS! : asks ❨ never be so kind you forget to be clever ❩#thewrongsorts#q.#thanks for sending this in !#i get so emotional about baby lily being pregnant the way and the time she was#pregnancy tw
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@thewrongsorts said : “ i’m here. and i’m not going anywhere. ” (alice, for frank)
Frank closes his eyes, unwilling to meet Alice’s gaze. He feels ashamed. He can’t ask this of Alice, he can’t ask it of Neville. They’d have an easier time of things if he stayed in St. Mungo’s. But Merlin, does he want to go home.
“I can’t put that burden on you,” he says quietly, speech slow. “Neville’s happiness and safety matters the most. Your happiness and safety matters the most. You shouldn’t be distracted by trying to take care of me.”
#thewrongsorts#( interactions || frank longbottom )#[ frank verse || hp ]#{ frank || alice longbottom // thewrongsorts }#meme replies
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❝ if we live through this, remind me to thank you. ❞ // ???? // @thewrongsorts , Kingsley
"Only if?" Severus jested in return, wry smile and all. Outside in the remnants of a garden rumored to have once been great and grand under the green thumb of Walburga Black.
Sirius must be most pleased at the state of it.
Severus, on the hand, feels remorse for the loss of life. Vegetation stripped of any opportunity to thrive by the loss of one.
They would care for it. Although, Severus supposed, Sirius would set the house aflame if they ever dared to leave a trace of magic behind. Nimue forbid if they lingered in this decaying home for anymore than a second. The mere act of breathing will strike Sirius' anger on their part.
With a cigarette dangling between middle and index, whisps of smoke made mindless patterns in the light of the night sky. A moment's break granted to them ever so graciously by Severus' master. They should feel humored that Kingsley would find it feasible to waste time with them of all those with greater social skills than what they possessed.
"Have no fear," they remarked playfully, holding their cigarette out in a silent offer. A wine colored stain to be found embracing the filter where lips showed love.
"I'll be sure to remind you to grovel at my feet."
They jest, of course.
#ˏˋ°•⁀➷ EGLCNTINE * ANSWERED ‚ fingertips stained with ink .#ˏˋ°•⁀➷ SEVERUS SNAPE * IC ‚ prince with a thousand enemies .#ˏˋ°•⁀➷ SEVERUS SNAPE * V : GOLDEN TRIO ERA ‚ prince with a thousand enemies .
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@thewrongsorts || cont.
the thing is—she’s never been a big fan of silence. dead of the night, not a single owl or car wandering through the streets; cold freezing the tip of her nose and the unnerving feeling she’s too close to her own memories for her own sake.
closer than ever, given by her company’s not-so-chatty disposition, of all things.
❝ come now, there must be something we can do to change that, hm? ❞ she tries with an easy smile, a faint of laughter released into the night. ❝ mademoiselle manon durant, how long have you been on this little island? and how come the more i ask these order folk about you—hm, no one seems to know a thing about the grand auror herself? ❞
an oddity when the younger litter of them had difficulties with keeping quiet during—well, almost every instance they’ve thrown them together in a room.
#thewrongsorts#a curious girl. a wanderer ; evicka#i forgot shes like 20 years younger than manon sjkdfh#stuck with a literal child
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👫
four headcanons about our muses
sirius genuinely believes that he and the rest of his friends were made for each other. that he found the people he was supposed to have early in life. that he was meant to have them all his life. he lost all but one of them. there is some part of him that never came back from halloween in 1981. some part of him that just doesn't exist anymore now that james is gone. james was his soulmate.
all of his perceptions of what a family is - the good ones - come from james and his parents. all of the recipes he knows how to make come from there too. they are some of the first memories he loses when he gets put away. the idea of a relationship that he wants comes from fleamont and euphemia. they are who he wants to model. they are the only good relationship he knows.
once wore prong's shedded velvet on his head and pranced around as padfoot like a little pony stepper. very proud of himself. raced around and tried to touch moony & wormtail with it.
i think i've mentioned this before but sirius absolutely kissed james at his wedding, right on the mouth.
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@thewrongsorts
Uncle Jamie
“ i’m afraid if i start crying, i just won’t stop. ” (l..listen....... james and eris talking about sirius' death maybe....??)
Eris sniffled herself, seemingly having cried herself dry yesterday night. She’d been a shell since the night Sirius had died, blank stares, hiding in her room, barely eating- she had almost forgotten, almost, that her uncle was also grieving someone who was essentially his brother.
Silently, Eris reached over and gently took his much bigger than in hers, turning slightly to look at James. “You should cry. You’ve been so strong for Harry and I- too strong.”
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