#think about torturing the longbottoms into a point of losing their minds

[narcissa-black-supermacy]

i would have to hard disagree on this one.

i don't see either james or sirius as people who would ever, ever, under no circumstances join an organisation like the death eaters. i can maybe maybe see sirius as a spy, but even then, the situation would have to be very very dire for that.

thing is, i think where the confusion stems from - is that we have a lot of characters we are meant to sympathise with, who are DEs (draco, lucius, severus, regulus) - but that is not the same thing. those are all people forced or pressured into that position based on their standing within the wizarding society. the malfoys being sympathy-inducing characters does NOT mean that the DEs are a morally grey organisation. the DEs are a terror group, full stop. they murder and torture (rape too, most likely) innocent people, they hate muggles and muggle-borns, they organise terror attacks, intimidate vulnerable parties into joining them and so on.

the only way sirius would ever end up there is if he never met james, went into slytherin, supported his parents' ideologies - but then we are pretty much stripping him off everything that makes him himself, yknow?

Here’s my favorite hot take (and yes I know it’s not strictly canon-compliant but it’s funny for me): the main thing keeping Sirius off of Voldemort’s side is that he killed James and wants Harry dead.

dude 💀 do you know that sirius/voldy fic? i haven’t read it fully but now i’m imagining this scenario with enemies to lovers/stuck on two ends type of angst lol

no but on a more serious note (lol), while yeah, canon would probably entirely disagree w that, it’s so funny to think that sirius either explicitly or implicitly agreed w the DE side but just. James. that’s it. j doesn’t even have to try but sirius entirely refuses to live in a world where james potter might look at him w disapproval or disappointment, nope, not done.

(also,,,in a post-poa world, i can actually see sirius as a DE ngl. i’ve read a few fics where he’s so disillusioned w the order and the ‘light side’ that he defects and yeah. not bad at all)

[thecarnivorousmuffinmeta]

Hey! I love your meta’s, a little while ago you talked about The Order of the Phoenix as an organization could you talk about the Death Eaters?

The post anon is referencing.

TL;DR the Order is incompetently hilarious and Dumbledore is a man who trusts no one.

Oh, the Death Eaters, what to say about the Death Eaters...

In a World Without Voldemort, They'd Probably Be Arsonists

One of the things JKR implies in the series, and something fandom seems to take for granted, is that Tom Riddle is the ultimate corrupting influence.

Were it not for him, the Wizarding World would be a much better place, and people like Bellatrix LeStrange would be productive members of society.

As soon as he is killed, even, by Harry, the good guys win, their problems all presumably solved, and Harry tells his son Albus Severus that it's totally fine if he's put into Slytherin.

I don't believe that though.

To me, it's not so much that Tom Riddle corrupted these people, but that he gave them an organized cause. The people themselves, oh, they were itching for a fight.

In a world without Tom I think they'd be a loosely, poorly organized, group (probably with Bellatrix as the ring leader) where they commit acts of domestic terrorism probably involving burning offensive shops to the ground or attacking muggleborns, halfbloods, and blood traitors.

Voldemort, to me, is designed to pander to them (and not the other way around).

The Death Eaters' Beginnings

So, first off, I think Tom's goals are not what he says they are. What he represents to his followers is exactly what they want to hear, wrapped in a grandiose theatric bow that they just love.

But how did this all start?

First, I don't believe in the Knights of Walpurgis. Instead I think Tom came relatively out of nowhere in the 70's uses parseltongue to prove his heritage as the Heir of Slytherin and thus of purer blood than any of them.

He throws these exciting rallies/parties that the rebellious, angsty, teenage heirs all go to. There he says everything they wanted to hear in the most eloquent manner they've ever heard, promises them the action that their fathers have never delivered, promises them a role in the glorious revolution and a place in history, and probably offers them mounds of cocaine.

All the Death Eaters we see, or the core of them, appear to be in this age range where they'd be in Hogwarts or just out of it when Voldemort came knocking. I can imagine they're all whipped up with excitement, YEAH LET'S BLOW UP THE MUDBLOODS and for some that's great, for others... things don't go the way they expected.

October 31, 1981: It All Falls Apart

Regulus famously steals Tom's horcrux. I imagine it wasn't so much that he learned the error of his ways but that he saw what Tom Riddle was really after: the destruction of his very society.

Lucius is riding high until October 31, 1981 and he sees the complete destruction of the entire Black family. Lucius' priorities greatly shift and as he grows older he prays Voldemort never returns. Unfortunately, Tom does, and he charges interest.

Bellatrix absolutely loses her mind, refuses to accept reality, and tries to torture the Longbottoms for information they do not possess. She is imprisoned in Azkaban and never truly recovers from this.

Snape ends up the cause of death for Lily Evans and must forever live with the guilt and be tied to her prophesied son. He also becomes Dumbledore's lackey forever, which ultimately gets him killed.

Point being, no one's having a good time. Some because they figure out being a Death Eater wasn't all it was cracked up to be, and others because they had the Voldemort rug pulled out from under their feet when Tom Riddle disappears.

Pettigrew flees and lives as the Weasley rat for nearly fifteen years.

They're left making a mad scramble as they try to pick up the pieces of their lives.

Canon Catches Up

More than ten years go by and then suddenly, in a muggle graveyard, the surviving Death Eaters discover that they are bound to Voldemort for the rest of their lives.

Death cannot stop this man and he has branded them: there's no escape.

Some are still enthusiastic supporters of the cause: Bellatrix is vindicated that her lord has returned, he rescues her from hell on earth, and everything's finally coming up Bella. Barty is similar in actively working for Voldemort's resurrection.

Lucius, meanwhile, lives in constant terror. Karkaroff desperately flees the country and hopes Tom will not find him. Snape, is in fact, Dumbledore's agent. Pettigrew only returned in utter desperation and has now cut off his own hand.

They're not the young men they were, some of them have families, to some of the past ten years have been utterly miserable. They have to watch as their children make the same damn mistakes they did, be sucked into this same hell hole, and there's nothing they can do about it.

There is a notable reluctance for the cause, and yet, they have to try with the same vigor or this madman will kill them all.

And it's all worthless anyway: come 1998, Voldemort dies again (perhaps for real this time, who knows, Harry Potter seems to think so for whatever reason) and then they are imprisoned for their acts as Death Eaters.

And they just laugh, because how badly Lucius wishes he could go back in time and tell his eighteen-year-old self, "YOU DUMB FUCK, LEAVE NOW!"

But Do They Learn Anything?

No.

Just because we see some of them regret being Death Eaters doesn't mean they regret their beliefs. Their beliefs were fine, even blowing up people here and there, a bit gauche but fine.

But maybe following Voldemort blindly was a bad idea.

Are They More Competent Than the Order?

No.

Tom Riddle is terrifyingly competent in that he infiltrates the government with ease, has spies everywhere, and all but proclaims himself minister one day and nobody blinks.

He gains the full support of most of the wizarding world's wealthiest and prestigious families.

But he doesn't actually give these people anything to do. Because there's nothing for them to do, with them, Tom's won. He owns the Wizengamot, the Ministry, everything.

There's no need to fight. It's over, there never was a war. Society is primed to accept Tom Riddle as their ruler.

However, the likes of Bellatrix LeStrange thinks there's a glorious war on, so "uh, go out and blow up a few muggles, have fun." And the young Death Eaters (and the older ones), think they've committed this great, daring, brave, and very important act.

Tom only seems to hand out real assignments when in desperate straits or else when being particularly vindictive.

Lucius, after messing up with the diary, is told to retrieve a prophecy he is not allowed to touch in a department of the ministry he should have no access to. If he fails: Tom kills his entire family. When Lucius does fail, Tom assigns his son to assassinate an already dying Dumbledore. These aren't real tasks, though they do have the appearance of one, and consequences for failure.

Barty, Tom is forced to rely on, as he is trapped in this dying infant's body. And better Barty, someone who is truly loyal and seems fairly clever, than Peter Pettigrew who is a miserable scum bag who'd sell his grandmother for a bar of soap.

Barty, of course, fucks this up. Rather than just kidnap Harry Potter at any of the many easy points this could be done (Hogsmeade trip, lure Harry out to Hogsmeade with super secret serial information about Voldemort/Snape being a Death Eater, etc.), Barty is determined to make use of the Triwizard Tournament to destroy his father's legacy.

This means rather than a few weeks, it takes months to kidnap Harry, and even then they bring along an extra boy who then gets killed and provides some evidence that Tom Riddle has in fact returned. (Somebody murdered Cedric). It takes months and Barty actively ensuring Harry makes it through the tournament and does well, leaving open the possibility that he might get caught helping Harry cheat at any moment. And of course, Barty has to pretend to be Madeye Moody for months, keeping his man locked and drugged in his trunk.

Thankfully, Moody's such a paranoid wreck, no one even notices.

Quirrell, Tom is forced to rely on. Quirrell fucks up, though admittedly not as badly as Barty. Quirrell fails to steal the stone when it's in transit/in Gringotts. He fails to murder Harry Potter, an eleven year old boy in the world's most dangerous school. He rouses Snape's suspicion almost immediately. Then of course he doesn't get the stone. He at least gets to the room with the stone and nearly overpowers Harry and gets it had he not been mysteriously lit on fire by the power of love/Lily Evans.

The only one Tom ever really relies on by choice is Snape. Snape is charged with spying on Dumbledore and later running Hogwarts (which he fucks up).

There is only one competent man in Britain: Severus Snape. Which is, of course, why he's a double agent that Dumbledore and Tom both extensively rely on despite his being a double agent.

There's no one else.

Tom Riddle doesn't make use of the Death Eaters but given they prove themselves enthusiastically incompetent at every turn I don't blame him. Just pretend to give them something to do and hope it makes them feel important.

That's all I've got in general, you want anything else you'll have to ask for something more specific.

[lxngbottom]

Mistakes That Last Forever. | N.L.

in which neville stumbles across... an “old friend”.

warnings: mentions of cheating, angst, pregnancy, slight trauma mentions (lmk if i missed any!)

i got inspired for this by an outsider imagine that i read like a really longgggg time ago... so enjoy this ig (AND YES THERE WILL BE A PART 2 TO THIS)

(PART 2)

—

neville’s whole life had been filled with regrets. they seeped into his skin, torturing his clouded mind on day to day basis. the trauma from the second war had left a mark on him, and even though he was now in the infamous herbology professor at hogwarts, he still didn’t feel as if he was living the life he had always wanted to. he didn’t feel successful, he didn’t feel... good about himself. and the main source of that?

you.

his biggest regret was losing you. hurting you. leaving you in such a needing time.

it had all started after the war. you two had been inseparable since 2nd year, as you were the one who had helped him down from the chandelier when he was tragically hung up by those pesky pixies. and ever since then, he was enamored with you. he was consumed by the mere thought of you. and, your feelings didn’t differ too much.

so, you two became official in your 4th year. you two were each other’s firsts for practically everything that could be a first. and, you wouldn’t have wanted it any other way. you were so in love with him, it tore you from the inside out.

but unfortunately, the war arrived. and, it took a huge toll on your relationship. it affected each bit of what you guys had built together. after the war had ended, you guys tried so hard to make it work. but, neville... it seemed as if he just... gave up.

you would never forget the day you came home from work to your shared apartment, and heard strange noises coming from your bedroom. you went up, deep down, already knowing what the noises were. and of course, when you opened the door, your worst nightmare had became a reality. and even worse?

you were pregnant.

neville knew this too, but, he felt as if he had spent so long being “stuck” in a relationship with you, he never got the chance to meet new people. and because of that, for the sake of your child, you left. because, he had left you first, and he had done something unforgivable. something that would leave you scarred, and something that would take hold of you for years.

but, now things were different for you. you were more than content with where your life was at right now. you had an amazing job as the journalist for the daily prophet, and you were damn good at it too. it was a collective agreement that you were definitely a step up from rita skeeter.

neville couldn’t disagree more, though. not that he didn’t think you were good at your job, he always thought that you were an amazing writer. but, he had to force himself to cancel his personal subscription to the daily prophet, as the simple mention of your name on the front page, or sometimes, maybe even your picture, broke his heart to see. some from guilt, but mostly, from just missing you.

just five years later, here you were. walking through a muggle hardware store, looking at all of the houseplants that surrounded the small garden.

“mummy, look!”

you whipped your head around, and smiled when you saw your small son, chubby just like neville used to be when he was young. you had always tried to disregard the fact that he looked exactly like his father, but it was difficult to. you loved your son, with everything you had in your body, but, he was a constant reminder of all the pain that had been caused.

“very nice, nev!” you giggled, watching as your son played with a single pink flower bouquet. he grinned at you, and suddenly plucked the fresh flower off of it’s stem. you gasped, and wanted your hand at him, “neville longbottom! we don’t do that! do you want to get in trouble?!”

his face contorted into a guilty one as he made those ridiculously adorable puppy dog eyes at you, “i’m sorry, mum... i-i-i didn’t know. i was trying to pick it for you...”

you couldn’t help but to feel a little guilty as he sadly dropped the broken off flower on the floor, watching as it blew away from the huge fan that hung above the both of you.

“it’s okay, dear. but, try not to pick them from the actual stems, okay? just... look on the floor. you’ll see a bunch of free flowers everywhere.” you teased, sending him a small smile. he looked up at you, and those sad puppy dog eyes quickly sparkled with excitement as he ran away, looking around the garden for those small, long forgotten flowers.

you chuckled quietly to yourself as you watched your son, seeing how his eyes glowed from all of the plants.

yeah. he was definitely neville’s son.

you turned your body back around, attempting to continue your shopping. but, your body then collided with another, causing you to come to a complete halt.

“oh, merlin! i’m so—“ you were just about to spurt out multiple apologies, until, you looked at the figure.

there he was. tall, muscular, and a intent gaze fixated on his face as he stared at you.

“n—neville?”

he was so shocked. he couldn’t even let out a single mutter. you were right there. right in front of him. after not seeing you for so long, but thinking about you always, you were finally right here.

“y/n...” he breathed out finally, trying to not show how incredibly nervous he was.

this was the first time you two had seen each other since the day you packed all of your things, and left him standing alone at the door step that once belonged to the both of you. he could never seem to part with the apartment, the whole environment still leaving trails of you. so, of course, he still resided there during his off times.

“um—wow... shit—i’m sorry. you know... for bumping into you...” he laughed nervously, stepping away from you. you gave him a nervous chuckle as well, trying to hide the redness that was now blending within your skin.

“oh—it’s alright. i should’ve—you know... been watching where i was going...”

neville opened his mouth to respond, as he wanted to ask you so many things. but, he was interrupted by a small child running up to you, tears streaming down his face as he clutched onto your leg.

“mum...” he sniffled out, and you looked down with a concerned look on your face, “t-t-the lady yelled at me...i-i-i accidentally b-broke one of the f-f-flowers...”

neville knew those eyes. he knew that familiar stutter. he knew those tears. it was like practically looking into a mirror.

that was his son.

you looked over at neville nervously, seeing realization flashing in his green orbs. but, you bent down to neville jr, who was an absolute mess. he never took kindly to people getting onto him, especially if they were yelling.

“oh... it’s alright, nev. we have a whole garden at home that we can grow flowers in...” you reassured him, wiping his small tears. he nestled into your touch, “why don’t you go and pick out some seeds? any kind you like... i’ll get them for you.”

there was a shy smile on his face as you said that, and he looked over at the strange man that stood baffled beside you.

“okay...” he sniffled, wiping his nose, “but... who’s that?” he asked, pointing to neville.

you had never told your son about his father, and you had hoped that he never would. but, you knew the day would come. you just didn’t think that day would be today.

“an old friend, darling. now, do as i say and go find some flowers, alright?”

your son nodded, reluctantly leaving you with the tall man that he had no idea the identity of. you stood up fully awkwardly, and looked over at neville who’s face was now angry.

he watched as the boy ran off, “he doesn’t know who i am?” he asked through gritted teeth, his eyes narrowing at you.

you looked back at him, “nev—“

“no... how could you not tell him? that’s my son, y/n. you—you told me you were putting the baby in adoption... how could you lie to me? and him? why would you do that?”

you knew you owed the man an explanation, but all at the same time, he had brought this upon himself. and yeah, maybe it was fucked up that you had lied to him, but, you genuinely did believe at the time you were getting rid of the baby.

“neville... not here. please...”

“no, y/n. you owe me a goddamn explanation. i mean... this is my fucking child we’re talking about. look at him! he looks just like me!”

you looked over at the chubby boy, watching him closely as he skimmed through seeds, staring at the images on the front.

“don’t you think i know that, neville?” you whispered, “listen... we can talk about this. but, not here. and, not while he’s around...”

“no! i want to talk to him! i deserve it—goddamn it, y/n! how could you fucking do this to me?!”

“and how could you cheat on me?! after everything we went through together! you fucking left me in the dust!”

he could see the pain in your eyes. there was obviously still a lot of hurt, so much rage pent up from the whole scenario. of course you had never fully gotten over it. it was still something you thought about on a daily basis, as you had believed at one point that you would be married to neville by now.

“y/n...” neville started, stepping closer to you, “i—i never meant to hurt you...”

you stared into his eyes for a moment, trying to find some sort of other answer other than that stupid apology you had heard so many times before.

“it doesn’t matter, longbottom. i have to go. we can talk about this whole thing another time. goodbye.”

[ginger-bread-official]

She Was There for a Reason

A fanfic of the battle of Hogwarts from Tonks’ perspective.

-

She was dodging curses, jinxes and falling stone while navigating the castle. It was pure choas; students, teachers Order members all fighting against the death eaters, giants, and... was that a acromantula? Tonks fended off a pair of death eaters form some students who clearly didn’t have much dueling experience.

“Thanks.” one of them panted when she stunned and bound their attackers. she nodded and asked,

“What in Merlin’s name are you kids doing here?” they all ducked at the sound of a near by explosion. “You all need to get out of here now!” She scolded them and cringed at how quickly she’d adopted a motherly tone.

“No we’re of age and McGonagall told us we could fight.” She sighed, not in the frame of mind to argue.

“Fine, but stick together and find some high ground.” A jet of purple light collided with the stone wall behind them, sending shards of stone flying all over. She shielded the three teens out of instinct, and fired at the closest death eater who was dueling Kingsley Shackelbolt.

“Thank you!” the only girl of the three said.

“Get going!” she yelled over her shoulder throwing another jinx to assist her fellow auror. They turned to do as she instructed, but she remembered the reason she came. “Wait.” They looked back to her, “Have you seen Remus Lupin?” she asked desperately. 

“Professor Lupin?” The tall boy asked.

“Yes.” another jet of light narrowly missed the group.

“He was leading a group onto the grounds, but got caught up fighting Dolohov near the courtyard.” he responded. The ground shook and she ushered them away with thanks to Dean for the information.

Kingsley was loosing ground against Yaxley near by as the students headed for better position. Tonks hurtled over the rubble she was taking cover under to aid him. 

“Tonks!?” was all he could yell out in the heat of battle.

“Need help old man?” she hollered back shooting a barrage of jinxes at Yaxley. The death eater stuttered backwards for a moment giving Kingsley the time to right himself. The pair danced in the duel as their mentor had taught them. For a man who trusted no one Mad eye sure knew how to build a perfect team. Crabbe and Goyle appeared to help Yaxley against the duo. Kingsley in these settings tended to take on the role of defense while Tonks charged forward on attack, but in the face of three death eaters he stepped in front of the new mother; the woman he loved like a sister, and wildly blitzed the men. Tonks held the defense, shielding any jinxes and watched as her friend dealt a decisive blow, and cut down all three death eaters. 

“What the Hell are you doing here?” He yelled turning to her.

“Saving your sorry arse!” She responded defiantly

“I was doing fine, and what about Teddy?!”

“He’s with me mum.” A great rumble shook the castle causing them to grab each other for stability.

“You’re in danger.” He looked wildly around for cover, “We need to get you out of here. Why did you come?” He asked franticly. 

“I came for the same reason I joined the order, the same reason I became an auror.” She looked up at him, “I have to help, I need to help.” He understood. They all had the calling in them, you can’t ignore the the cries of those in need. 

“Fine.” he sighed. “But keep on high ground.” She rolled her eyes. He was treating her like she was a trainee again.

“Have you seen Remus?”

“He was down in the courtyard last I saw.” They began to run in that direction, “Took Dolohov off my hands leaving me just with Yaxley.” The pair split up at the great staircase, Tonks promising to look for Lupin from above and stay out of harms way. She was helping some students on the upper levels overlooking the courtyard, fending off any enemies that approached, while looking for her husband. It was all a haze and everything was exploding all around them. She was holding strong against some incoming dementors, and had a few students helping her when she saw something that twisted her insides painfully.

Bellatrix Lestrange was playing with her food.

Her aunt, the one that resembled he kind loving mother, was torturing Neville Longbottom at the base of the great staircase. His screams curdled her blood and pierced her heart. She was taunting him. 

“Ickle Longbottom screams just like his mommy did.” She was sick, demented. Tonks remembered the vile threats she made on Teddy’s life. That woman had caused enough pain. Her wolf patronus pushed back the last of the Dementors and rushed off towards Bellatrix with Tonks close behind. She thought of Teddy holding his beautiful face in her minds eye as she charged her aunt. Neville was Alice’s Teddy. “As fun as this is. Bloodtraitor, I’ll have to cut it short.” Neville was panting from the most recent bout of torture, sweat drenching his clothes and shimmering on his young face. The tip of her wand began to glow green, “Avad-”

“Bellatrix!” Tonks screamed. The older woman paused and turned to see her niece standing at the top of the staircase.

“You.” Her attention was completely on Tonks now, hatred and fury now emanating from the oldest Black sister.

“Neville,” Tonks looked to the young man, “Go help your friends I’ll handle her.” Neville began to protest, “Run! Now!” She shouted as she shot a jinx at her aunt. Bellatrix easily dodged it, but at least her attention was off of the boy now. Neville hurried to the aid of Ginny who was fighting Greyback nearby. The death eater and the auror trades a few curses with Tonks keeping the high ground and landing a some good hits on the older woman. Her aunt’s actions were wild and desperate. 

“After I kill you, I’m going to kill your mutt of a husband and then your precious pup.” She spat out before sending another few killing curses at Nymphadora. 

“If you keep talking like that Remus and I are going to take you off the Christmas card list.” she smirked taunting the woman. A few more curses wizzed passed her as the pair took their duel to the second level of the castle. Tonks was losing ground, but to be fair even the great Minerva McGonagall struggled against Bellatrix.

It was heated to say the least. Tonks felt satisfaction for her small hits and limited victories, but then immediately felt exhaustion from dodging, and shielding from the countless attacks. She had to win she needed to protect Teddy Bellatrix was the looming cloud over everything they did. They hid their marriage because of her, hid the pregnancy because of her. It needed to end. Tonks became more frantic, attacking with the smallest openings, resorting to dark curses and risky maneuvers. She was turning the tide, she could feel it she could land one last hit.... But she was too slow. Bellatrix blasted her back in one of her exposed blitz. She hit the wall hard knocking the wind from her and dropping her crumpled on the ground. Her aunt’s laugh was manic as she charged forward sending stunning, cutting and bruising jinxes at Tonks. She fended off one barely, but was hit by the others. She rushed in close to her niece, grabbing her spiked pink hair with one hand and pressing her wand into her throat with the other.

“I wish I had more time to enjoy this.” She hissed into Nymphadora’s bloodied and bruised face. “Like when I killed your mudblood father.” a pain ripped through Nymphadora. “I took time with his punishment. Days and days I spent breaking him.” She licked her lips at the memory. “But I suppose I’ll have that again with your husband and baby.” Tonks felt the hatred build in her to a breaking point. Her sweet father had died at the hands of this monster. Remus would suffer, Teddy..... no. She thought of everything Bellatrix had done. All the nights her mother spend crying over her sister. Neville’s parents, her father, every vile and heinous thing that boiled Tonks’ blood, and with the last of her strength she raised her wand and blurted out.

“Avada Kedavra.” A green jet shot out and sent Bellatrix flying backwards to the opposing wall. A mixture of horror and relief washed through her at what she just did. Her hatred and fear had taken control she was desperate to do anything to save her family. Her feelings hadn’t settled when the heap that was her aunt moved. She got to her feet with difficulty as her aunt rose seemingly from the dead. The Death Eater’s face was bloodied and her motions seemed pained, but yet she lived.

“That was a good first try.” She turned fully to Tonks with clear pain in her face. “But it’s more than just hate dear.” Tonks raised her wand while still leaning on the wall for support, “Its the joy of killing. Let me show you.” Tonks felt a single tear run down her face. Not for her, but for Teddy. it was his face she held in her mind as she heard her aunt give her demonstration.

-

I hate when people shit on Tonks for going to the battle. She is a good soul who couldn’t stand by when people needed her. I wanted to give a concrete reason why she needed to be there, why her sacrifice meant so much more than her leaving Teddy orphaned. She was a hero and people shit on her because of it. this is the only time you see me admit she died. But I believe she had to be there to save Neville. She would have been the only person short Harry that could have diverted Bellatrix’s attention. She sacrificed herself and Neville was able to aid Harry and the rest is history.

Also as badass as Molly Weasley is, the first time we see her Duel is against Bellatrix, and I think it would make more sense if Bellatrix was weakened when she died at Molly’s hand.

[thirdwars]

the battle at diagon alley // diomedes avery.

Mentions/features: Cassius Rookwood, Eden Dolohov, Juliet Avery, Davina Travers, Molly Weasley senior, Olive Longbottom, Jimmy Fletcher, Ronan Nott, Molly Weasley junior, Theodore Burke, Fiorella Longbottom.  Triggers: violence, torture, blood, death, loss of a child.

To summarise: Diomedes came out to attack and had so much fun. Pre-battle, he has a little huddle with Cassius and Eden, where they discuss their plans. He’s told Juliet to stay away. At the battle, he duels with Davina, who he injures mildly and who abandons the fight. He also comes across Molly Sr, who he fails to kill. When he sees Olive, he supposes that it’d be poetic to subject her to the cruciatus curse, and he does, but is confunded by Jimmy before being able to finish the job. This leaves room for Ronan to get some spells in, but once Jimmy and Olive have disapparated, the spell breaks and he duels the other for a while. He also comes across Molly Jr, who he intends to kill with the sectumsempra after having failed to kill her namesake. Unbeknownst to him until later, he fails at that too. He also comes across Theodore Burke and Fiorella Longbottom while they’re in the midst of their half-hearted duel, something he will keep in mind in the future. I’m not sure about the order in regards about all these events, I just know that Molly senior came before most of them! Ahhhh. Diomedes comes out relatively unscathed, to a rather furious Juliet ( which is played out on the dash, see here ).

THREAD 001: Eden, Diomedes, Cassius.

EDEN DOLOHOV: murder tw / "I'm going to take out the Minister,"  Eden announces. She's still as a statue, hands clasped under her chin in a perversion of prayer, eyes trained on the table in front of the three of them. It's an unfamiliar sight to anyone that doesn't know her well — this is her planning face. Granger-Weasley at the helm of government is a problem, after all, and even if she cares little for politics, it doesn't hurt to clear the way for the Death Eaters to assume control of the Ministry. "Killing Potter was the right move, of course, but he wasn't the only thing that gave mudbloods and blood traitors hope." 

Her eyes flit to Cassius and Diomedes, then. Her resolve is steel-firm, but she's accustomed to collaborating with the two of them — strength in numbers, and all that. 

DIOMEDES AVERY: murder, death of a child tw / Part of him wants to say, all child-like, that he wants to take out Hermione Granger, but he bites his tongue. Eden can have her glory: he'll find his own. "It looks like Lestrange junior will be focusing on Longbottom," he said, thinking out loud. He'd like to see all of them die, all of Potter's friends picked off. "So that leaves three more of them, if he succeeds." With them, he meant those who'd been there the last time Voldemort had been defeated, when his father had gone to jail. "I'm not sure, what would be more ... ah, satisfying. Most of them dying in one night, or drawing it out a little?" 

He shoves his chair back, folds one leg over the other. "I'll focus on their children, I think. Nothing like losing a child to make someone lose their fight." His mind thinks to the hole he ripped in the Bardon family, and he smiles despite himself. 

CASSIUS ROOKWOOD: He doesn’t like deferrring but it’s a necessary sacrifice. It won’t always be this way. But until then, it’s true enough that he find Diomedes and Eden valuable, feeds off their energy. There is, perhaps, purpose after all in letting the lines between alliance and friendship blur. “Come now, Dio, it’s not meant to be satisfying. We take life only to accomplish our goals,” Cassius makes as if to lecture but can’t hold back a sharp smile. “Though of course, I’ll take out any Weasleys I see with pleasure.” They both make valid points, a good team despite Cassius knowing in the end they each had their own agenda. “The Minister is the brains”, he agrees, nodding at Eden. It’ll be a challenge but he’s seen her in action, and he believes she’s capable of defeating Granger. He’d far prefer Eden have whatever glory would come attached to the deed than Rabastan. “And undoubtedly the most important target. But losing Potter didn’t break them. Victoire Weasley assured me of that personally. Apparently, it only made them want to to fight harder.” Cassius only just manages not to roll his eyes at that. “We need to kill as many of them and their people as possible. Destroy their numbers.” For the most part, he takes this planning session with utmost seriousness but once more he lets humour into his voice, “We could always make it a friendly competition.” 

THREAD 002: Molly Sr and Diomedes

DIOMEDES AVERY: death of a child tw / Eyes fall on the matriarch of what is Diomedes least favourite family, and he hardly hesitates as he approaches her, wand at the ready. "Shouldn't you be keeping your children indoors, Molly?," he asks, voice sharp, aiming his wand at the ground at her feet, where he lets the cobbles burst in an explosion. He's smiling behind his mask, feeling like he's getting the revenge he deserves, he has deserved for so long. "You already lost the one, after all."

MOLLY WEASLEY SR: Molly’s head swings around at the sound of her name. ‘’And shouldn’t you be in Azkaban by now?’’ She snaps in retaliation, jumping back as the ground beneath her feet explodes. A shooting pain explodes in her left leg. FURY takes over her body and she sees RED, she throws a scorching spell, watching the flames burst from the end of her wand and dance in the air as they move. ‘’ do not talk about my family. ‘’

DIOMEDES AVERY: He jumps aside as the fire shoots past him, missing him only just. Impressive. "Azkaban? You should know better than to put your faith in such a faulty prison." He lets out a cold laugh, then, sending pain-inducing hex her way. He wants to see her family burn, fall, eradicated. "But your family loves to be talked about, don't they? Weasley this, Weasley that, the fucking paper is filled with you red-haired nuisances. It's like you're asking for it."

MOLLY WEASLEY SR: The pain hits her in the chest and for a moment she’s sure her hearts going to give way. She bends over in pain, hands over her chest, the others words echoing in her head. She will not back down. ‘’ You sounds almost jealous,’’ it’s said with a laugh as she sends another scorching hex his way.31 October 2020

DIOMEDES AVERY: "Oh, of what?" He laughs, even as the scorching hex hits him, and he points his wand to his aflame robes, putting out the fire. His actions are quick, but he hates the gap that he's leaving in his offense, and he soon points his wand at her again, returning her favour and sending a scorching hex back. "Two dead family members, in less than a month? Can't say that I am."

THREAD 002: Olive and Diomedes ( torture tw throughout )

DIOMEDES AVERY: Much like his shoes, he picks his duelling partners with care. Diomedes thinks not everyone is worth is time, considers the long-game. Short-term sadism isn't his style, after all: he much prefers to cause suffering that lasts. And so, when eyes fall on one of the Longbottom children, a plan clicks into his mind. What happened to their grandparents is legend, after all, a notorious fate: who is he not to try and show her what they went through? He's quick to act, wand at the ready, "Longbottom," he calls. "How's grandma?" And then, his wand whips. "Crucio." 

OLIVE LONGBOTTOM: in years past, olive had staunchly refused to attend the annual halloween fair that was held in diagon alley — she was never a fan of such large groups of people. but (one or two, certainly not all) her sisters and her parents had practically begged her to come along and she had reluctantly agreed. the night had gone by rather smoothly, much better than she could have expected, and she had been enjoying spending time with her family. then, all hell broke loose. the death eaters decided to do what they did best, turning a joyful event into a terrifying one. olive lost track of her family rather quickly, not by choice, but due to the sheer chaos happening around them. standing in the middle of the street (like an idiot), she scanned the area around her, desperately trying to locate her family. it was then that she heard the voice of diomedes avery and her stomach dropped. she swiftly turned on her heel, wand drawn, her eyes filled with a mixture of panic and rage. "she's saner than you are." olive spat, his allusion towards what had happened to her grandparents only fueling the anger boiling up inside her. when she noticed his wand she acted quickly, darting behind the nearest building in order to escape whatever spell he had in store for her. the failed cruciatus curse missed olive by inches and instead, connected with the brick of the shop that she had jumped behind, scattering debris on everything in the immediate vicinity, including her. "protego." she whispered, taking a moment to gather her breath (and her thoughts), before stepping out from behind the building, ready to face diomedes. "what the fuck is wrong with you?" she hissed before raising her wand once again. "sectumsempra!" 

DIOMEDES AVERY: As she hides behind the building, he's just satisfied at her cowardice. Let him terrify her. He doesn't care about the pain he causes, he cares about the power it grants him: the power that comes with being feared, with being run from. He wants to hold all the cards, to be the strongest piece on the board of chess and win. When Olive shows her face again — just when Diomedes was considering striding over, cloak billowing — he grins behind his mask. "Plenty," he snarls, waving his wand to dodge curse, redirecting it to the building. Debris covers his shoes, his cloak, but he hardly cares. In this anonymity, appearances hardly matter, after all. "Using dark magic, now? What would your dear father say?" He remembers the start of the battle, how Neville Longbottom had dropped, with a satisfied smirk. "If he can even speak after tonight, that is." One by one, all of them will fall. Harry first, now Neville, and hopefully Eden is taking care of their new minister somewhere, too. Perhaps after tonight, there'll only be three left. For now, though, he'll keep himself busy with one of their children. He focuses on Olive, wand waving again as he attempts a — "Crucio!" — again.

OLIVE LONGBOTTOM: as he redirected the spell into the nearest building, she cursed under her breath. she didn't want to admit it but he was talented, much more so than she had previously assumed. when she heard him talking about her father, she tightened the grip she had on her wand, knuckles turning white. "don't you dare talk about my father." she replied, attempting to keep her voice as calm and level as possible, not wanting to give diomedes the satisfaction of knowing that he had been able to get under her skin. on the inside, she was screaming, panicking, obsessing over what he had said about her father — why hadn't she spent more time trying to find her family? when he attempts another cruciatus curse, olive tries to redirect the spell, but she isn't fast enough. pain, a white-hot pain, floods throughout her entire body and she can't help but scream. "leave me and my family alone!" 

DIOMEDES AVERY: "Oh, what are you going to do about it?" His voice his a sneer, his expression filled with sickening glee. "Me keeping my mouth shut won't save him." The legacy of the Longbottom family is stuff of legend, and Diomedes feels nothing but satisfaction at the idea of building on that. Taking a part in it. He doesn't care about the causing of pain, per se, just the rammifications of it, the things it means. The Longbottom family will not know rest: that he promises. Not untill they all die. Her screaming echoes, and Diomedes' lips curl into a grin as he steps closer. "Actually, no, I don't think I will." His voice is a snarl — this is classic predator versus prey. "I'm just trying to give you something to bond over." Ruthless, merciless, twisted: Diomedes Aveyr is far removed from the polite man he presents himself to be, and that is where his danger lies. He is both, after all, a man of luxury and wealth and charity, as well as a monster. "Crucio."

OLIVE LONGBOTTOM: "why don't you just kill me?" she spoke through clenched teeth, still in excruciating pain. "kill me and leave my family alone." olive didn't want to die — in fact, she was afraid to die. there was so much that she still wanted to, so much that she still needed to experience, but she was willing to sacrifice that all for her family. 

THREAD 003: Davina and Diomedes 

DIOMEDES AVERY: On first look, a scene like this – chaotic, fiery, filled with debris and mess – doesn't seem like Diomedes' scene. It is, though: he'd been raised with an appetite for chaos, and it shows in moments like these. He carefully picks his sparring partners, not wanting to waste time on those who weren't worth it, and so when he sees Davina – estranged cousin, childhood friend, enemy – he chooses her. He intents to hurt. He intents for her to know it's him: it's not like she hasn't been able to guess. Diomedes gets close, wand pointed at her face – it's so familiar that he hardly needs look at it, "Kind of ballsy, to show up when you have so many enemies, Davina." His words are spat out, his eyes narrowed behind his mask.

DAVINA TRAVERS: she’s rattled. all she can think of is catriona, and getting away, getting back to her instead of staying trapped in this battle that isn’t her’s to fight. somehow, a voice cuts through the din. she knows that voice. so desperately wishes she didn’t.  “well, i’m not quite subscribed to the family newsletter anymore, so i didn’t have time to prepare.” but he’s right, he’s right, he’s right — how many people here would be just as quick to hurt her as they are to sneer blood traitor? there’s a pang in her chest for him. she can’t bring herself to put the name to the voice. she refuses. “if i’d known i was such a hot topic, though, i would have picked a better outfit to see everyone in.” grip adjusts on her wand, tightens. she doesn’t want this.

DIOMEDES AVERY: Good. She knows it's him. He hopes that his oncoming ruthlessness will instill her with a sense of fear, that she will refuse to reciprocate it. Davina is weak, he thinks. "I think you should have reconsidered your outfit regardless," he says, and he's unable not to think back to those days where they'd bantered as friends. Their history lies between them, so much lighter than whatever is between them now: a hatred, a deep-rooted anger, a feeling of betrayal, in all truth. He hates to admit it, but it's rather unsettling that she knows him so well. On the other hand, he knows her well, too. "Where's little Catriona, then? I should hope you brought her, to such a fun evening?"

DAVINA TRAVERS:  there’s something poetic about blissfully ignoring red flags for years, and then having all of those flags waved in front of your face in the form of a wand. one where the etching alone is familiar, evocative of school and big manors and laughter. once upon a time she wondered how they were so similar, but now she just thinks that they couldn’t be any more different. “i can think of a furry little thing you should reconsider too, but i suppose i’ll keep my mouth shut.” even still, she finds the desire to protect him lingering in her lungs. it was so fucking sad. “where she is is none of your business.” a shrug, like saying c’est la vie. “remind me, does your daughter know about your extracurricular activities?”

DIOMEDES AVERY: Even here, people seemed awfully occupied with his mustache. Eyes roll behind his mask, Diomedes' tendency to be annoyed not stilled by the chaos around him. "You'll keep your mouth shut? Then why, in Merlin's name, are your lips moving and making sound?" The taunts are childish, almost, but that's what he's used to when it comes to Davina. As adults, they barely talk after all, most of the words spoken between them either child-like remarks or their conversations before she left. "Hmm, she's my family, is she not? That makes it my business." His family loyalty hardly extents to her runt, though. He lets out a laugh, then, but it's cold, hiding the discomfort he feels as Davina addresses Helen. "Oh, come on now Davina, you must know enough about child development to understand that she is much too young to know, let alone understand, such things!"

DAVINA TRAVERS: "y' got me there. i've never been good at the whole quiet thing, anyway. think that runs in the family? i've always thought it was a rowle trait." just when she thought she had taken a step forward in her life, she's sent reeling five steps back. perhaps she shouldn't be surprised that it's him that has that impact on her, as stinging and abrupt as any hex to the gut. "so she's family now?" a click of her tongue. a tilt of her head. "i thought that was forfeited the day i was kicked out. might want to make up your mind, eh?" davina knows she's no longer precariously balanced on the edge of dangerous cliff -- when he laughs, she's falling headfirst into the canyon that had eroded between them over the years. he laughs, and a chill ghosts down her spine. he says her name, and it feels like a curse. the center of his attention was the last place she wanted to be. "sure. but you know as well as i do that even the best attempts at sheltering someone from the truth can fail. does she know about me? do you ever wonder if she did whether she would start questioning everything that daddy dearest told her?"

DIOMEDES AVERY: Her wit is sharp as a knife, as sharp as his, and he falls back into this way of banter easily. "At least there's one thing you didn't disappoint on." The list of reasons she did disappoint is endless, most of them labeled as personal betrayals in Diomedes eyes. No one breaks his heart and gets away with it. He's not built for pain like that, has not been raised to be familiar with things like nostalgia and perhaps even, deep down, regret. Because the truth of it all is, is that he misses Davina. And he can't have that. "Oh, only in the technical sense. Emotionally, she's nothing to me." He pauses. "Or, well - perhaps a little less than that." He hates that she speaks of Helen, hates how it gets to him, the thought of his daughter questioning him. He's doing this for her, after all, for her and all the children of his that might follow. Davina is clever, though, and knows how to point her arrows. Diomedes hates her for it, when he once loved her for it. "Helen will never be like you Davina." That has to be the truth, because anything else is unimaginable. He hates how she's able to get under his skin, and he tightens his grip on his wand. "She will value loyalty, family, unlike you."

DAVINA TRAVERS: "go on." when she looks down the path of the wand pointed at her, she meets the silver, emotionless face staring back at her. davina wonders if he feels the same noxious lump in his lungs that she does with every word that drags against her throat. "paint me all the ways that i ruined the family. how i let all of you down. how i am the disappointment. tell me whatever story you've created to vilify me because it can't be worse than anything i told myself when i was alone during that pregnancy." there's a certain breathlessness to her, now. she thinks she might hate him when he speaks of catriona. the challenge he makes of her loyalty. (hurt and ugly nostalgia root in her chest. it blooms, like an invasive thing that spreads and spreads until there's nothing left of her to claim.) davina's throat bobs when she swallows and spine straightens. fingers shift in their grip on her wand. "you say that, but i think part of you is afraid. it wasn't like my da' ever saw it coming, either. helen might not look like me, she might not sound like me, but there's always a chance she could become me."

DIOMEDES AVERY: The worst thing is this: Diomedes thinks, somewhere, that she is right. He does not like guilt, it's not an emotion he permits himself to feel, but as she speaks about being alone in those months, something eats at him. Still, he's been raised on a warped vision of history and has made that all his own, and even this - something so personal - is something he can twist. He is the one in the right. "Oh, boo-hoo, Davina. Must I remind you that you had options, and still chose to leave? I won't cry for you." Family loyalty is one of the things that is deeply rooted in Diomedes Avery's being, something that starkly opposes all that he does now. It stirs, as he looks at Davina, her emotions so much more easy to read than his are. He is glad for the mask, because he knows his face is revealing more than he wants to. He hates nostalgia, and it seeps through him like poison. He has no retort to the comments on Helen, because Davina is right, she's right, and it scares him, it throws him for a loop, so he just waves his wand in stead, "Diffindo!"

DAVINA TRAVERS: “you keep rattling on about loyalty, but where was that virtue when my parents were more loyal to appearances than their own daughter?” she had always worn her heart on her sleeve. hiding her emotions wasn’t something davina was familiar with, and this was a pitfall her mother had often found. but alisha rowle had also been the one to show her how to sharpen her words when she was angry — taught her to shoot to kill. davina’s been provoking him this entire time, that much she’s certain, and it’s a question of just how hard he’ll retaliate when it’s said and done. “i’m not asking you to pity me. i just think you’re so fecking sad, diomedes.” his name tastes like something decayed dripping off her tongue, and she wishes she could take it back. but she can’t, and she isn’t quick enough to completely sidestep the curse he directs at her — though she manages to avoid a direct hit to the chest, it still skims her dominant arm. coat sleeve and shirt beneath are ripped near her shoulder as the skin beneath tears open into a nasty gash. “expelliarmus!” she can’t be certain it’ll reach her mark. heart beats out a melody dissonant to the symphony of madness around her: run, run, run.

DIOMEDES AVERY: blood tw / "I am not your parents, Davina, if you have an issue with them I suggest you send them an owl." He says her voice like its a curse, something dirty that needs to be spat out. That he has regrets, about how things went back then, he doesn't say: such things he hardly admits to himself, after all. Diomedes is carefully skulpted lies and disillusions, it's how he's able to observe the world the way he does. "Well, I don't need your pity either," he snarls. "I'm quite happy, after all." And that he is, especially on a night like this, when power seems so easy to grab, every curse he sends that hits its target a rush. That is what he wants: pure power. He does not want this nostalgia or longing, this hidden curiosity in regards to how Davina is. When his curse hits her, albeit not too directly, he grins behind his mask. Sadism is easier than empathy, after all. He watches the blood with a satisfaction, considering how ruined hers is, despite the magic flowing through it. It's not a waste. He dodges her spell with a quick protego. "What, are you tired? You're not getting my fucking wand, Davina."

DAVINA TRAVERS: blood tw / "then i guess my issue with you is that you're a coward. would you have really forgiven me if i'd gone with those plans, anyway? she still would have been born a half blood. all the lies in the world couldn't change that." chest rises and falls in heavy breaths. seeds of doubt linger at the fringes of her mind -- would she have been able to say anything she has tonight if he didn't have the mask? would she be able to look him eye to eye and lay herself bare? of all things she abandoned, diomedes is one of the ones she regrets the most. "are you? because, i gotta say, it really looks like you could use some new friends." she can feel the blood dripping down her arm. it's warm, and the fabric of her clothes clings to her skin. there's no way to tell how deep it is, but there's an inexplicable flash of pain against her nerves when she moves her arm again. fight or flight is a powerful instinct, and davina finds that the need to flee outweighs any desire to continue this twisted dance. she takes a slight step back. "not tired. out of practice, maybe." another step. just enough to give her room -- "confringo!" davina doesn't linger long enough to make sure that the blast hits the stone between them, simply hopes that it's enough to knock him back. then she runs straight into the bedlam, abandoning him again.

DIOMEDES AVERY: "I'm the coward? Didn't you take the easy way out? Speculate all you want Davina, but had you stayed, I would have had your back." And now he's ready to drive a knife into it, as if their history does not matter to him at all. Of course, a knife to the back is personal, and proves that he does care. It's clear, from the way he fights her with words rather than magic, that he does, from the way he considers their history out loud, albeit twistedly. He cares, and he hates himself for it. No: he hates Davina for it, and points all blame to her. "I appreciate the concern, but I'm quite satisfied in my interpersonal relations." His voice is dripped in sickening honey, a drawl made out of years of praise and prejudice. He watches Davina step back, and considers it a victory already. Part of him hopes she runs, another part will condemn her for it if she does —— and so when the confringo hits the street between them, Diomedes knocked back, he grins behind the mask. Weak, she's weak, just like she was years ago when she chose the easy way out. He does not follow Davina, if only because he knows he will have his revenge one day. And then, she will see his face.

THREAD 004: Molly Jr and Diomedes

DIOMEDES AVERY: It can't be said that Diomedes doesn't have an artistic touch to what he does. He considers himself a deliverer of poetic justice, or at the very least poetic suffering, and so when he sees Molly Weasley junior (as if one of them wasn't enough), he fights off his current duelling partner with a stunning spell and moves on. How poetic is it, after all, if he fights both Molly's in one evening? He sends a stinging hex her way - if only to get her attention - and then calls (because  a duel without a bit of dialogue is bland) to her, "All by yourself, Weasley? Is that wise, these days?" 

MOLLY WEASLEY JR: "Oh my god!" Molly yells as she jumps out of the way of the death eater's hex, more out of annoyance than desperation. Her makeup is smeared, and she supposes she looks not at all serious and fierce but rather pathetic in her bright pink, cheetah-spotted outfit. She readies a shield charm (her specialty, thick and sparkling) before shouting back. "Fuck off, you fucking muppet! Tarantallegra!"

DIOMEDES AVERY: "You want to dance?," he asks, dodging the hex. Diomedes, is in all truth, amused by the other's interpretation of a duel, and he almost wishes the other could see the way he's grinning. "This isn't second year duelling club, Weasley." He sends another pair of stinging hexes her way, relatively harmless yet effective enough for now.

MOLLY WEASLEY JR: "It's not? Because I feel like I'm talking to a twelve-year-old right now." The stinging hexes — well, they sting, but Molly knows this Death Eater is capable of much more. He's toying with her, in that fucked-up little way Molly's always heard about in stories of Bellatrix Lestrange, who likes to play with her food before she eats it. Her shield falls, and instead of recasting it she sends three Knockback Jinxes to the Death Eater in quick succession: "Flipendo!"

DIOMEDES AVERY: "You must have met some interesting twelve year olds, then." He'll give her one thing: she's quick-witted, and apparently quick with her wand too. He dodges the first two jinxes, but the third one hits him— he's knocked backwards in the rubble surrounding them, his fall broken by a quick non-verbal spell. She's got ... well, he doesn't want to say skills, but spunk at the very least. He rises, wand pointed at the ground near her feet, "Expulso," and he's moving forward, distance closing between the two. Then, a cutting hex, "Diffindo," for good measure.

MOLLY WEASLEY JR: blood tw / She only just manages to jump out of the line of fire of the Death Eater's expulso; it blows apart the stones where she was just standing, sending sharp stones cascading against her legs, sure to cause bruises. The cutting hex opens a gash on her calf as well. "Fuck you!" That's the least of her concerns, however, because it's quickly dawning on her that she's no match for this masked man as a duelist. 

Thinkthinkthink — Molly wracks her brain in an effort to think of a spell that can buy her time to run away. She sees a flash of red hair out of the corner of her eye — and it doesn't even matter that it's probably not her aunt, it just gives her the spark of inspiration she needs. The young witch aims her wand at the space between the Death Eater's masked eyeholes and rattles off Aunt Ginny's most famous spell: the bat-bogey hex. 

DIOMEDES AVERY: blood tw / Behind his mask, Diomedes Avery is showing his ugliest self. A twisted smile, watching the other dance around his curses and failing, eyes dark. He failed to kill the other's grandmother: maybe killing her namesake would be good enough for today. Determination takes a hold of him, and he's planning to end this. Sooner, rather than later. 

 Her hex takes him by surprise, and things go fast, then: bats force their way from his nose, his mask falls to make way, and then wings are slapping him in his face, leathery and quick. Indignant fury takes a hold of him, ice cold, the embarrassment inspiring a rage. He's never been one to shrink, when made a fool of: he's been fed too much pride for that. 

 He forces his mask back on, hoping she's not seen him ( and if she has, it hardly matters: she won't live to tell the tale ). "Sectumpsempra!" His voice is all ill-contained fury, as he slash, slash, slashes, not once or twice, but thrice. He watches the gashes open in Molly's skin with sickening satisfaction. A moment he waits, saying, "Say hi to your uncle, will you?", before retreating as she falls.

[turningintomalfoy]

Draco Malfoy and the Obnoxious Stone

Rating: All Audiences

Tags: Time travel, AU/Canon divergence, Redemption, Character growth

Chapter: 3/9 [complete]

AO3: Read Here

“You better have a good reason for not writing back to most of my letters last month.” Pansy Parkinson announced the moment her head made it through the threshold of the train compartment. Draco couldn’t push down a feeling of guilt and let himself get distracted enough to lose a round of exploding snap against Goyle. He had barely just calmed enough to look in Crabbe’s direction, thank you very much, and did not want more reminders of the future mistakes he would make.

“Well, they were rather dull. I didn’t think my input would change how the weather ruined your plans,” his friend bristled, but that’s how they always worked best together. “You remember weather spells exist, don’t you? Why do they have to be natural thunderstorms?”

“It’s not the same.” she stretched the vowels, petulant. Draco shifted closer to the window to make room for them both. The train only set off a few moments prior, and were he to peer out the windows, he would still be able to catch the last parents waving goodbye to some student he would have probably seen tortured or killed if Draco paid any attention to anyone’s suffering in the war.

“You got to play quidditch with your cousins, nothing to complain about. Did you work on your catches?”

Pansy, in fact, did not practice her catches this summer, and told Draco exactly what she thought about spending precious time with obnoxious and spoilt kids. This time, Draco stopped himself for pointing out she should fit right in with that crowd. She really did seem put out.

Instead, Draco reached for the abandoned book on obscure age altering potions he pocketed at Flourish and Blott’s while browsing for non-incriminating books that could still be useful. There wasn’t as much choice at the store as he hoped for, but the library at Hogwarts would definitely have an answer, he couldn’t accept anything else. The dusty, in all likelihood outdated, tome had yet to provide a good lead on his situation. On the bright side, if he wanted to remain in this 11 year old body for much longer than a year or return to a more adult form, he now knew half a dozen ways of making it happen and the side effects of each one.

With a sigh, Draco rejoined the discussion about exactly how much cheating in chess is permissible before it’s embarrassing even if you don’t get caught. He hated playing against Pansy on days she decided there was no limit. The other boys somehow ended up entertaining them with all the misadventures they ended up in over the last month, not sugar coating their own ignorance or stupid ideas in the slightest. Before long, though, the conversation died out, probably because no one was used to Draco not vying for the spotlight at every opportunity.

Draco climbed up onto the seat with his book in hand to find his school robes and less frustrating reading material. Everything was going well until he forgot he wasn’t tall enough to step back to pull his trunk down without tumbling down. The trunk avoided squashing him by an inch, but that wasn’t enough to soften the blow to his ego (or his behind). The other kids bursting into laughter definitely didn’t help the issue one bit.

“Ahaha maybe you need to pra-haha practice more swan dives off a stage!” Pansy’s tone couldn’t even reach mocking, she was too busy trying to hold back her laughter. “You were so graceful before .”

“Maybe it’s puberty.“ Crabbe choked out, visibly preening at the rare opportunity to berate him. Goyle laughed so hard he started a coughing fit. Draco would never hear the end of it at this rate. He had to clear his head and recover whatever dignity he could.

He got up with as much poise as he could, considering the burning in his cheeks and ears, and slammed to door on his way out. The food trolley witch would be doing a round by now, he figured, he could buy some sweets for their silence.

He almost reached the front of the train by the time he caught up to the trolley. While the lady counted out change, Draco could have sworn he saw a green chocolate frog jump out of a wrapper and onto her shoulder, but the woman didn’t react. The return journey was slower both with residual embarrassment and the weight of bribes filling his pockets. He pushed past a few groups of older students, who seemed to be debating if Harry Potter was on the train, one of them claiming the boy must have gone abroad to hide from vengeful Death Eaters and will definitely be attending Durmstrang.

Draco almost ran into Hermione Granger as she marched out of a compartment with enough determination and energy to trample right over him.

“You haven’t seen a toad around, have you?” She asked. “A boy called Neville is looking for one, its name is Trevor.”

Draco wasn’t ready. Potter was one thing, he could still hate the Chosen One. But here stood Granger before he belittled and demeaned her in front of most, before he teased and bullied her for being smarter and more dedicated, before witnessing the torture she endured in his home. He felt sick.

“Well? Have you seen one around or not?” Granger prompted again.

“What’s the point of looking? The toad must have taken one look at him and realised it was a lost cause” what was he doing? He wanted to fix things, or to run away from all those he hurt before. Not preemptively insult them. Draco couldn’t tell whether he felt ill, angry, or just tired.

“How dare you. You can’t say things like that!”

Their heated exchange drew attention from the compartment beside them, it’s door opening to show a tall ginger (definitely Ron Weasley), and Potter. This settled it, Draco had to be stuck in his personal hell.

“Oi! What’s going on?” Weasley grumbled. “Can’t you question him somewhere else?”

“Hey, it’s you again. Draco Malfoy?” Potter chimed in, sounding out his name as though it was difficult to remember.

“You know him? Ask him if he’s seen Neville’s toad.” Granger put Potter between her and Draco with a couple steps back.

“It’ll be a public service to let the toad go. It belongs with a proper wizard.”

Apparently, Draco just couldn’t help himself.

“Of course the git would say that. Forget about it Harry, Hermione. Don’t expect any good from a Malfoy.” Weasley exclaimed with pride. The worst part was it wasn’t completely wrong. Still, Draco was already worked up and past the point of no return.

“I don’t even need to ask your name, Weasley. Father says your parents have more children than garden gnomes. Figures Potter would take pity on a charity case like you.” Weasley’s face turned scarlet, and both boys seemed ready for a fistfight, Draco realised a little late with a sinking feeling in his stomach. “Anyway, I have better things to be doing.”

He swerved out of range just in case one of them decided to go for a punch, and carried on. He wouldn’t admit to feeling guilt about coming full circle when it comes to these three, but something pushed him to mention the food trolley witch to Granger as he passed. The toad was probably long gone by then, anyway.

His friends greeted him somewhat remorsefully, and they spent the rest of the way to Hogwarts playing cards and enjoying his snacks. Not long after sunset the train came to a stop. Draco couldn’t contain his excitement. They followed other first years to the lake shore, where Hagrid packed them into boats. A breathtaking reflection of the stars spread around them on patches of still water. They cut through it, gentle ripples appearing around them like a gathered shimmering silk. It was a real shame only first years got to experience this sight.

“Has someone forgotten a toad?” Hagrid helped an embarrassed Longbottom climb back into the boat. They must have found it on the train, but the amphibian seemed to know what it wanted.

Draco kept to a group of pureblood students and away from the soon to be gryffindors, only slightly preoccupied by a possible continuation of their argument on the train, but Professor McGonagall didn’t make them wait long.

He lost focus, staring at the teacher table. He felt faint, palms sweating, and couldn’t tear his eyes away from Severus Snape and Dumbledore. Here they were, alive and unaware. A song reached him more like wind wailing outside tightly closed doors, he couldn’t join in if his life depended on it. McGonagall repeated his name twice before anything broke Draco out of thought. It was his turn. He pushed past a smaller kid out of his way to the Sorting Hat.

“My, my... this should be the first time we meet, young man. Yet, I see you have already found yourself amongst loyal snakes.”

“Just put me where I belong, it’s been a long day already,” Draco thought, grinding his teeth in frustration.

“Now, let’s not be hasty... It’s true you still have Slytherin on your mind, but is it truly where your heart lies?” The Hat carried on. “Gryffindor could hone your courage and quench a thirst for justice, child. You could make a bigger difference than you ever thought possible.”

Draco looked up at his godfather, at the headmaster, at the faces of all these children doomed to take part in a war they didn’t want. If he could slow Voldemort’s return, maybe they could all be safe. The war could be stopped before it even began. He caught Potter, staring at him with a mixture of worry and disgust.

“Forget it, I wouldn’t be caught dead with that lot. Even Hufflepuff would be better than Gryffindor.”

“Another difficult one, I see. Have it your way...”

The Slytherin table cheered at the Hat’s decision, as Draco took a seat opposite Crabbe and Goyle, who were too busy trying to stare food into existence on the empty plates between them.

The rest of the sorting went as expected. Nott, Theodore and Pansy joined them with a lot less fanfare than Draco or Potter, who ended up causing an uproar by landing in Gryffindor. Weasley followed suit, and finally Zabini, Blaise sat on Draco’s unoccupied side.

“I’m Draco.”

“Blaise. Does the Hat actually listen to us? I thought I saw you talking back to it.”

“It does, when someone is good enough to be in two houses. I hear it’s rare for a real hat stall to happen. It has to take more than five minutes.”

“Sweet! Which house did you turn down for better company?” He asked with a grin.

“... Ravenclaw.”

“Well, then it’s settled Draco. That puts you in charge of making sure we all pass!” Pansy joined in on his other side with a laugh. She gestured with a tilt of her head, pointing out Crabbe and Goyle. “We’ll definitely need a miracle for those two to make it.”

[hollowedrpg]

CONGRATULATIONS, LUCY! — You’ve been accepted for the role of Kingsley Shacklebolt. Your application was straight, and to the point, because it was clear you knew exactly how Kingsley fits into this world. Not only do you understand who he is now, but there were moments in your application that I saw you’d understand how he fits into future plots. I’m so excited to have the original Order trio filled at last! 

Thank you so much for applying. Please create your account and send in the link, track the right tags, and follow everyone on the follow list. Welcome to Hollowed Souls!

ooc.

name: Lucy

age: 28

preferred pronouns: She, her

timezone: +10 – Brisbane, australia

activity: On a scale of 1-10, I’d say 8. I work from home doing social media & marketing for a bunch of companies, so I’m always near a computer

are you applying for more than one character?:  no, would like to in the future perhaps!

how do you feel about your character dying?: Obviously it would be hard, but if it’s important for the story, I’d be fine with it, and would look to maybe applying for another character after.

anything else?: nope, just excited to get started

ic details.

full name:  Kingsley Shacklebolt

date of birth: 12/12/1949

former hogwarts house: Gryffindor - I know this might in debate, lots might say Ravenclaw, but there is too much bravery and chivalry in his actions, and his goals and his beliefs to say otherwsie to me! It takes avery brave person not to raise a fist when one is coming at you.

sexuality: Straight

gender/pronouns: he/him

face claim change: Very okay with Michael B. Jordan!

more.

how do you interpret this character’s personality? how will you play them? include two weaknesses & two strengths.

Kingsley’s character is 100% defined by his actions and the actions of those around him. I imagine him to be pensive and calculating, not in a bad way, just that he was always weigh the pro’s and cons of his actions and how his behaviour could be viewed by someone looking from the outside in, which means he spends a lot of time in his own head. His father’s actions and legacy deeply affected him, in a sense that is his self drive, to never allow that to happen again. This to me is why his professors may have believe him to be reserved, or quiet, but he’s not. He’s the sort of person would never use two words when one will do.

I imagine him to have this huge amount of kindness in him that doesn’t get to be shown often enough lately. It’s connected to his protective instincts too. He had to prove himself to be shown kindness from some people thanks to his family name, so he does not withhold that from other people when they are deserving of it. This is partly why he only uses defensive spells, as he will not cause harm to another. He once stopped a duel to prevent his opponent from causing harm to themselves. However his upbringing and what he has witnessed has caused him to have a hard exterior that does not allow this kindness to outwardly show.

I would love to explore Kingsley potentially having a temper at times, but not once does it ever escape him, he keeps it all inside, as he’s determined to never act on an aggressive or violent impulse, he just supresses them for the sake of his goal to fight war with peace, or defence at the very least. I think he would be frustrated at all the hoops he’s had to jump through in his life, thanks to his father and his name, and to continue coming up against brick walls would eventually grate on him, and the temper might flair inside. Particularly lately with no body listening to his suggestions to hide the Order which he knows is for the greater good. Everyone is just too wand happy and of the belief the end with justify the means – something Kingsley does not at all believe, having witnessed too many bad things happening because of that belief.

Positive Traits for Kingsley would be loyalty and his self-control, with everything he’s seen and done, people still marvel at the fact he has never once cast an attacking spell. Negative traits would be that he is blaming himself for things well beyond his control, and that sometimes the amount of times he spends inside his own head debating his own actions and their consequences means he sometimes fails to act when he should.

how has the war affected this character, emotionally and otherwise?

I think he found solice with the Order, and enjoyed feeling like he could make a difference in a war that seemed so much bigger than him, but now, after Godrics Hollow and the Malfoy Manor, he’s beginning to see that even peaceful non-resistance actions can have dangerous consequences, and any intelligence they’ve been given cannot be relied upon, which is why he’s an advocate for hiding out until the war is over. He’s tired of seeing families ripped apart, and knowing other little boys or girls are going to grow up without a parent or parents just like him.

The death of the Longbottom’s son has greatly affected him, especially as he brought Frank and Alice on board, he feels a huge sense of guilt there. His mistrustful nature seems to be growing slightly too. He knows how seductive the other side can be, and he wants more than anything, to prevent losing any more friends, either to death or to have them join the Death Eaters.

where does this character currently stand? with those who wish to hide in godric’s hollow until the war ends, with those who wish to rebuild the order and continue fighting the war, or on neither side? why?

Kingsley is an advocate for hiding until it is safe to emerge, obviously and despite his disagreement with how Moody and Arabella want to move the Order, he is aware that they are safest together, not splitting in two.. So internally he is completely torn between his plan, and wanting to keep the Order together.. Without allowing himself to be arrogant, he knows they would benefit from his skill, but he just can’t bear to see any more people die for something that none of them deserve to be dying for. This shouldn’t be there fight to fight, not when they are falling in such rapid numbers, but the desire for good to triumph keeps Kingsley going. His instinct to protect his friends and family cannot allow him to abandon the Order, but he can’t see a way to keep fighting in a war that to him seems to be destroying both sides. Many who are joining the Order, or were around before Godrics Hollow and Malfoy Manor want revenge, and Kingsley cannot pretend his brand of reasoned argument for hiding it out will convince them. His desperation to protect everyone, to save them from a worthless death is mounting. Violence has solved nothing, and left them with less members, and more heartbreak and guilt.

Kingsley knows his strengths, and he knows he could protect everyone he just needs them to listen to him.

Additional Question: What does Kingsley think the Order’s next move should be? Does he believe the war can still be won?

I think I sort of answered that above, but these additional questions are what constantly rolls through his mind these days, almost torturing him, because he’s son torn. Potentially he wants to put it about through sources he knows are spies for the other side, that the Order is finished, to stop the other side hunting for members. To keep the Order safer. But he also knows that won’t stop them all, some of them are out for blood and would not be happy without it all over their hands. In some of the dark moments, I think he doesn’t believe they can win. That’s the thought pattern that drives him to want to keep everyone hidden and safe, to continue to protect them. However that thought doesn’t stop him wanting peace. He will strive for nothing but peace and equilibrium amongst witches, wizards and muggles, so for that reason, he maybe hopes that it can be won, but the part of his brain that exists in the real world, says otherwise.

All he’s very sure of now is that he does not want the Order to do anymore recruitment. He will not tolerate bringing more people in to die because of something he is in charge of.

[i-writing-is-hard-i]

Blood Traitor Pt 19

Blood Traitor pt 19

Summary:  You are Draco’s older sister.  A pureblood Witch, without the prejudice and anti-muggle beliefs of your family. Who just so happened to fall in love with none other than a blood traitor, just to complicate matters more Voldemort has returned.  What will you do?

okay, I suck at writing descriptions,

[Disclaimer] Mentions of sex, violence, and hints of torture, I may have screwed up the timeline somewhere along the way, and no one dies, because, thats sad

[Beginning]  - [Previous] - [End]

Part. 19

Only a few days had passed, but you were picking yourself up and ready to get back into the fight.  Thankfully as the call to meet at Hogwarts had come.  

All of you arrived, rushing into the great hall, you hadn’t been here since you left school, but you could really tell the difference, it was so gloomy, the atmosphere was dark, like being in the forbidden forest.

Severus Snape, stood in front of a group of children, beside him stood two known death eaters, their name escaped you though.  Harry was standing in the middle, confronting them.  Other students volunteered to help with the fight.  They were only children, but they were needed.  As far as you knew Charlie Weasley was gathering everyone else, this would take a while no doubt.  The other students who weren’t fighting rushed off to their respective dorms.

All the remaining teachers put up a protecting barrier over the school, while you were standing at the front door, a few people apparated beside you, startling you.  It was the werewolves you had spoken to, the ones who agreed to stay away.  They had changed their minds, wanting to help fight instead.  You thanked them profusely.  You all took your positions.  George refused to leave your side, not that you wanted to leave him.  

From where you were standing you could see out across the bridge, if the situation wasn’t so dire, you would almost say the barrier going up was beautiful.  George and Fred exchanged some words.

Your eyes glanced around the area checking on everyone else.  You could feel your heart thumping hard in your chest.  You had been okay at first, but now with this moment of silence and anticipation, your nervous had kicked in.  you glanced up at George, what if something were to happen to him? or his brother? Or anyone for that matter.  What if you lose and Voldemort wins?.  Then there were the thoughts of your family.  You knew they were down there, helping.  Would you have to fight them directly, would you miss them?

Out of the corner of your eye, you could see George fidgeting with his want.  It had made you look up, a crowd was coming, it was them.  You hadn’t even noticed the stone soldiers lining the bridge, the second line of defense.  Some of the people remained at the door, whilst others scattered around the grounds.  

George turned to you, pulling you against him as you all watched Voldemort’s army pounding and trying to get past the barrier, with the amount there was, it wasn’t that hard, and before long the barrier was done and they were in.  the fighting had begun.

Spells flew past you, as death eaters appeared, parts of the wall would blast away, fire erupted in places all across the school, people ran around fighting back, but one by one they would fall from injuries or worse, it as chaos.  You tried your best to remain with George, but it as near impossible,  you managed to get separated.

when you had finally noticed he wasn’t insight you panicked, worried about him, but you had to focus on yourself and the death eater in front of you, he would be fine, he’s tough and smart, he will be okay.  You were running around fighting off the bad guys, helping who you could, at one point you got a glimpse of red hair, you made your way towards them.  Round the corner you saw him, on closer inspection you realised it was Fred, he was sitting against the wall.  A death eater standing about him.  Fred’s wand was thrown from his hands.  Your legs were moving on their own, you pushed the death eater out of the way, stopping his spell from hitting Fred.

You quickly scrambled to your feet, casting your own spell, that sent the death eater away.

“Fred” you called kneeling beside him.

“Bloody hell” he breathed looking up to you.

“Fred, Y/B” you heard someone call, it was Percy running towards you, you hadn’t noticed he was nearby.

The two of you helped Fred on his feet, he was okay and ready to continue fighting, just in time too as more death eaters appeared, but they stopped, as Voldemort’s voice filled the air, calling back his army, giving you all a chance to gather the dead.

“Y/N, Fred!” George’s voice called out, you turned to see him running around the corner.  When he spotted the two of you standing there, his face lit up.  Following him was Bill and Arthur.  George swung his arms around you, holding you so tight against him, that you could barely breathe, you felt like crying, while he was still holding you, he pulled Fred into a hug.

You all joined everyone in the great hall, on the way picking up those who couldn’t make it on their own.  When Milly saw you all, she embraced each and every one of you.  You were so grateful they were all okay.  But it was short-lived, your eyes glanced around the room, there were so many injured or worse, and so many of them were children, some younger than Ginny.  You wanted to cry at the sight of it, but you held yourself together.

“Yeah, Y/N saved my life” Fred was telling George, Molly had overheard this Fred had intended not to tell her, so as not to worry here.  Molly pulled him to another hug, before hugging you thankful.

Remus and Tonks came walking in carrying more injured, they themselves barely made it too.  George pulled you to the side.  

“I thought, when I couldn’t find you, I thought you were gone” He stuttered.

“I was terrified when I couldn’t see you” you replied,

“I love you so much” George kissed you deeply

“I love you too”

Because you were skilled in healing spells, you helped tend to the injured, at least those with relatively minor injuries.  You had spotted Harry, Ron and Hermione walk in, breathing a sigh of relief that they were okay, turning back you focused on the task at hand.  When you had looked up again, Harry was gone, maybe he needed a minute?.  You saw Sirius looking worried too, standing beside Remus who was holding Tonks against his side.

It felt like no time at all before Voldemort’s voice could be heard again.  Everyone who was capable of fighting had stood up leaving to go outside to face him, one more time.  On the way out you grabbed hold of George’s hand, feeling him squeeze it back.

The army standing before you was vast, how were you supposed to fight all these?  At the front stood Voldemort, just behind him you saw Bellatrix, she noticed you, sending you a glare.  While Voldemort droned on, your eyes scanned the area, looking for your parents, sure enough there they were, your father looked drained of all colour but you had no sympathy for him, after what you had seen in the great hall, what he helped to do.  You no longer cared how bad he looked.  Suddenly Hagrid stepped forward.  In his arms was Harry’s lifeless body, was he really dead?. Sirius tried to run, anger filling his calls, but he was held back by Remus.  Ginny ran too, being held back by Arthur.

Voldemort called forth anyone willing to join him, no one moved, but then Neville Longbottom staggered forward, he was carrying the sword of Gryffindor.  At first, you thought he was going to change sides, so did the others, but he didn’t he gave a speech about not giving up and he was right.  

Voldemort commemorated his bravery, then said something else.  

“Draco” he spoke, you turned to spot Draco at the far side, you didn’t know he was there.  Your blood boiled how could they let him be here?  What was he doing?, Draco didn’t move, not until you heard your mother call him.  

Draco walked over to Voldemort, who hugged him awkwardly, before letting him go.  Your mother held on to him, then turned to you.  You felt nothing at all looking at her, but there was something in her eyes, she glanced over to Harry, you followed her gaze, then back to her, was he alive.  You watched her nod.

You turned back to him and sure enough, while Voldemort droned on.  Harry stood, no one else had noticed yet, not until he called out to Voldemort there were a few happy gasps around you, but that was short lived.  Harry charged towards Voldemort, together they disappeared.  

Voldemort’s army were about to charge themselves but stopped when they heard yelling.  Backup had arrived with Charlie leading the way.  Maybe this won’t be as hard.  

The fighting had begun again.

Ginny was currently in a duel with Bellatrix, your first instinct was to jump in between them but Molly had gotten there first.  She was angry.

“Stay away from my daughters you bitch” she spoke angrily.  Molly glanced up at the two of you, before turning back around to Bellatrix who seemed to be enjoying this.  For a moment though, you were distracted had she referred to you as a daughter? You couldn’t think about it for long when Bellatrix turned to dust and you felt nothing when it happened, but should it?

Thanks to the backup, the second round wasn’t as tough as before there weren’t as many casualties, you were currently engaged in a duel with a man, you didn’t recognise him, but he knew you, bringing up the fact that you were a ‘blood traitor’.  You were doing fine until you heard someone call George.  Your first thought was that he had gotten hurt, you turned to him, he was fine, but it left you open, the man hit you with a spell, sending you flying across the room, you hit the ground with a thud, dazing you.  It took a moment to regain yourself.  It wasn’t until you tried to get up when you realised that it wasn’t a simple spell, the wounds you had started to open up, you were bleeding again, what was that spell?

You looked up to see him approaching you with a delighted spell, then he was gone,  George had attacked him.  He ran to you in a panic.

“I am okay, he just opened some old wounds up” you had finally regained your mind, being able to stand.  George wasn’t totally convinced, but there wasn’t much any of you could do before death eaters approached you, but then they suddenly stopped and they were gone.  

You and George shared confused glances then with everyone else rushed out the door, Voldemort’s army was trying to flee.

Voldemort was defeated, Harry had won.

Everyone cheered, rushing to Harry’s side, he was okay.

In all the excitement you had almost forgotten about your wounds, they weren’t particularly bad but they did hurt, almost as bad as before.  George seemed to have remembered too, he quickly turned to you worried.  The bleeding had stopped now.

“We should get you to Madame Pomfrey” he noted, he wrapped an arm around you, pulling you towards the great hall, with Fred in tow.

Thanks to Charlie and the people he managed to gather there were a lot fewer casualties this time around, no deaths with.  Madame Pomfrey was able to see you relatively quick, having continued working while everyone else was fighting

It was really late, or early now, when Arthur announced it was time to head home, there wasn’t much any of you could do now.  Back at the Weasleys, everyone said goodnight, sharing hugs before going their separate ways.  

You had climbed into George’s bed first followed by him, holding as tight as he could without hurting you.  Everyone was so exhausted, you would think they would fall asleep straight away, but no, at least not you, George or Fred.  it was like the adrenaline was still coursing through you all.  Eventually, you heard Fred snoring lightly, followed by you,  George stayed up a bit longer, watching you sleep,  he was so grateful to have you in his arms after all this, all his family was safe, he couldn’t have hoped for more.  

[athyrabunlord]

Below is my rambling response to @argnatien’s lovely review of 3.3k words (?!??!?!?) for LLSHP AU ch16~

I had hoped to finish ch17 in February but oh, it’s April now XD;;; So I’m definitely way later than you. But! I’m still very happy to receive your feedback! Yes, I did intend this chapter to be ‘quieter’ in terms of actions, but definitely still a turmoil in terms of emotions. The thing with the ending chapters of Arc2 is that, the characters were not given time to truly absorb the aftermaths. Everything happened so quickly, back to back, and suddenly their world is turned upside down. It’s not just Yoshiko – Dia and Riko are abruptly gone from their peaceful school life. Chika and You learned about what really happened to them but they never got the chance to talk to Riko about it.

I think I mentioned this already, but I’ll stress again that, if it weren’t for the carbonado necklace, Riko would have ended up like Frank and Alice Longbottom. She was subjected to not just one but several Cruciatus Curses on top of many Legilimens. It was a difficult scene for me to write as well, though I still strive to be as realistic as possible given the circumstances.

Riko had immediately Obliviated You and Chika while their… ‘injuries’ were still fresh, so to speak, while it’s already too late for Riko. Her mind was broken already, so there’s no point in Obliviating them. Besides, messing with memories is a crude method to deal with Cruciatus aftermath – it’s not done in canon HP verse. Unlike physical torture, I believe Cruciatus to be a direct attack on the mind to stimulate pain receptors, rather than actual attack on the person’s nervous system. So, if the mind forgets that it ever sent such signals, perhaps there wouldn’t be an aftereffect. Of course, all of this is just my assumption and play around with HP canon material XD;

Back to present, Chika said that being surrounded by friends and family would remind her that the pain from Cruciatus is in the past. What Riko needs now certainly is time and, as the girls have discovered, Dia to be with her too. I can’t elaborate more on this point but indeed, there is hope. Hope is what Aqours is all about.

Dia was raised and shown in public as the heiress of the Kurosawa family. They could not just outright disown or strip her of her title for no reason, that would be even worse shame than the current suspicions she now faced. Hence the best countermeasure they have for now is to keep her from public eyes. There’s the matter of her relationship with Riko as well. Though the Sakurauchis is an old family with prominent background, their lineage is nowhere as pure as Kurosawas. Both women, different social status, and now this incident… Dia and Riko indeed face quite a lot of obstacles.

Grounded in her family home, unable to contact friends and left with only thoughts of guilt and regret, Dia’s not in a good state in many ways (as briefly shown in ch17). Dia is not privy to Riko’s condition, so her mind would just keep wandering and assuming the worst. As Dia-oshi (that’s hard to believe probably, considering what I’ve done), it’s difficult for me to imagine how much pain Dia’s been experiencing but had to keep inside her with no way to vent her stress.

My parchment paper analogy is my attempt to differentiate Magical healing from Muggle healing process. For Muggles, we have equipment like MRT scans, EGG scans etc. So, as I try to rationalize how Healers work, the parchment analogy came to mind. Ink is indeed the stressor and is unpredictable, as in what sort of stain the ink would make on the paper is dependent on how the ink is dropped upon it. Thoughts/experiences change the pattern that the ink runs on the paper. Chika and You mentioned how their minds are like ‘dried parchment, one that’s been stained before but the ink color has long lightened.’ So, just how can Riko’s ‘parchment’ be salvaged?

Yes, you’re correct, she was just having a PTSD flashback upon seeing the person who betrayed and tortured her. She had no idea it was ‘Yohane’ – she still thought it was Yoshiko. She definitely is in no state of mind to think about the why and how. ………… yeah, I deserve to be stoned by Riko-oshis.

Hmm, yeah, can’t comment much on Yoshiko & Riko atm. But yes, Yoshiko will not go anywhere near Riko in fear of triggering another panic attack. I don’t remember what I said to you for ch15’s review LOL I agree, trust is indeed hard to regain.

Can’t comment much on the Yohane-Yoshiko connection either. Just as how Yoshiko can do certain things Yohane can’t (ie cast the Patronus), there are things Yohane can do that Yoshiko can’t either. The how and why shall be revealed in the remainder of Arc3. Yoshiko’s bad Occlumency is due to the fact she’s not ‘whole’. Yohane is definitely more accustomed to handling matters related to her soul, having practically grown up with such knowledge and those wings being a natural occurrence for her. In the alley, Yoshiko was practically losing control and attempting to force her way into Yohane’s mind, and so Yohane abruptly cut off the connection.

Specifically, it was Yoshiko’s emotional attachment to Hanamaru’s broken wand that stopped her from going berserk. To her, the broken wand was a remnant of the ‘old’ Hanamaru, from a period of time where things were still good. As hinted in past chapters, being the one to be able to approach Yoshiko while those tendrils were rampant, Hanamaru is a key factor in calming down Yoshiko.  Emotion is another key catalyst for the black tendrils. Finding out that Yohane had tortured Riko caused such undulated anger in Yoshiko. Clues from past events will be accumulating and adding up, and of course more to come. Good speculations, that’s all I can say for now 😃

Yup, playing around one’s soul definitely isn’t healthy for the long run, especially when you use said soul fragments as a form of weapon or defense. In a way, you could say Yohane-Yoshiko are damaged already. Neither of them is whole after all. Again, great speculations!

Hanamaru is connected to Yoshiko in a way, ever since the Dementor incident as a child. (ch17 sheds some light onto that mystery) She hasn’t been aware of this connection, at least not consciously, but she’s always been able to locate Yoshiko at Hogwarts (between classes and whatnot). After the Chamber of Secrets event though, she becomes aware of it without understanding what it really means. Seeing the Augurey enables her to make a comparison/metaphor, and so she stated that she could hear Yoshiko’s soul crying.

Foreshadowing… welp, ch17 did reveal more things haha

I’ve been fascinated by Augurey since I first read Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them, which listed them alphabetically. So in the very early planning stages of this story, I thought of Yoshiko right away and wanted it to play a significant role. Ch17 does reveal more than it being a symbol. The Hogwarts registry that writes down the names of magical children is an Augurey quill, that’s why I chose to use it for a purpose in this story as well.

Just as how Professor Koizumi coaxed Ruby into letting out her emotions in Interlude2, Hanamaru managed to do so for Yoshiko. The poor girl needs it, it’s not healthy keeping everything inside after all. It’s mostly guilt, she keeps telling herself she doesn’t deserve to be comforted and she’s in no position to be crying when everyone else have suffered so much more. I’m glad that you as a reader find the moment satisfying, as I intended it to be in spite of the overall solemn and melancholic tone. Ch17 presents a different catharsis for her, another one that she needs, and for Hanamaru as well.

<_< ah yes memories. I’ve always found Obliviate a very fascinating spell – a dangerous one too – yet it was never expanded much in the HP canon. The most poignant instances would be Gilderoy Lockhart stealing credit, Hermione to protect her parents, and Bertha Jorkins who got tortured by Voldemort and regained her memories. All of these have different impacts, positive and negative, on characters and the plot.

And so, I did a little variation amongst the members – the Memory Charm saved You and Chika’s lives; Riko extracted her memory into the Pensieve before her mind cracked; Yoshiko’s own memories being disjointed due to the whole Horcrux issue; Hanamaru’s memory repression being purely psychological.

I make them suffer a lot don’t I… (but this is nothing compared to other AUs I had for them LOL *gets shot*) But personally, I find things so much sweeter (or, bittersweet at least) if there was suffering beforehand. The saying of ‘you won’t realize how much you miss/need something until it’s gone’ kind of feel.

Again, I must say I’m beyond amazed at the 3.3k review. Like, holy moly, that’s longer than most some of my blips already! I really appreciate all these feedbacks though – it lets me see how a reader views the story, and it brings me joy to see the little nuances here and there noticed and appreciated. I’m also glad to elaborate upon/share the more intricate details that have no room in the storytelling.

Thanks again!

[divagonzo]

An unpopular opinion: I really dislike how angst some Romione fics are. It's not about the angst but the way it's portrait. I believe they have issues to talk about after the war but the way some authors portrait them it's like I can't feel the love between them. (part 1)

Also, I really hate how I have to read about every wrong situation and detail but when it comes to showing them loving each other - and I mean also love scenes, so many details with their failed attempt to sex but once we get to the love scene - two phrases and it's done. I was reading "Australia" and I got so frustrated, especially because there wasn't Hermione's pov and I really couldn't feel love or desire from her. (part 2)            

I really hate when authors make look like Ron is the one who gets and makes all the wrong moves or decision. I really hate how he is always the one who has to fix the situation between them. I want to feel them loving each other, I want to feel Hermione loving Ron and Ron loving her. I just want to feel the love. (part 3)           

Greetings Nonnie (as I'm on a dark road on my way for a holiday)

I can speak about @tenpointstohufflepuff because of speaking with her while she was publishing it. But she can add more if she likes (or has time to do so.)

I think what might have you in a spot of bother is that those particular fics, specifically the ones that are reasonably immediate post-BoH is that it's not romantic, apparently loving, and angsty, as you pointed out.

If I might offer something for you to consider:War is Hell.

When I write Hermione in this particular situation, she has been through trauma, something that many people didn't survive, or if they did, lost their sanity. (i.e. Frank and Alice Longbottom). To survive what they did and still have her mind intact was incredible, to say the least.

But it also will leave mental and emotional scars. But not only Hermione was affected and impacted. So was Ron.

Then add into the additional trauma of what happened at the Battle of Hogwarts. Ron witnessed his brother get killed. That will leave a huge mark on the soul - including survivor's guilt.

I realize many readers will have questions about such, including why they are still coping hours, weeks, months later. Why are they so complicated, messy, and not overtly romantic for such a tremendous moment in their lives?

Short answer: PTSD.

Because people aren't 2 dimensions and have so many layers to them, good and bad. Trauma doesn't resolve with someone in hours, especially when it involves someone who has significant anxiety issues - or has significant self-esteem issues. Do you think that Hermione wouldn't be locked inside her head sometimes over so many what if's? Or Ron questioning himself repeatedly because he couldn't stop Bellatrix from torturing Hermione. The movies cocked up the entire scene and it bothers me - because it discounted Ron's actions in the scene (movie wise). In the books, he was going mad at being confined while Hermione was being tormented. He was attempting to do wandless magic from a magically constricted dungeon. Hearing Hermione's screams of agony and not being able to stop it will have a profound impact - as well as walking out and abandoning them, even if it was only for a moment and losing track of them.

So in reference to Australia, it looks overly angst-riddled and unloving - but the two people were written honestly and realistically - not a romanticized view. I personally love the story, because it's written not by a romance writer, but by a historian. The tone and flavor of the story is why I love it - because of the realism.

It's also a character study of the two of them and how they come together while trying to find her parents but also finding themselves once again. They can’t be who they were before - but they can find a new normal for them. It’s not waving a magic wand and poof your trauma is healed and you’re perfect. Hardly.

You ask why Ron is the one who has the focus on fixing things. I personally see it as he feels the need to fix problems he causes (which is canon) but also make up for those moments he failed Hermione - in actuality or in perception.

For both of them, their reactions come from a place of fear - but I also see Hermione changing to tapping into the anger that was always inside - but constrained by her fear.’

When I write them post-war, they are complicated and messy. They have their issues and sometimes coping and tolerating things. But I will point out one huge thing in particular:

Love isn’t always romantic. It’s being there at a person’s worst moments and staying by their side. It’s being there helping the other one when life is falling apart. It’s being there helping however possible and doing something about the situation for someone they love.

It’s not always about the I love you’s. Sometimes it’s the I won’t leave your side for any reason. Sometimes it’s the 3 am nightmares that won’t go away and you have insomnia and need a cup or pot of tea and sharing that insomnia with someone you love and cherish. Sometimes it’s the shag you til you pass out and get sleep that you so desperately need. or the quiet walks away from the noise to have a moment’s clarity and sanity.

As for the smexy scenes - “two phrases and it’s done”... well, not every writer is completely comfortable writing smut/erotica.. There is quite a bit that goes into writing such with tenderness and care - without sounding like a narration of a porn flick. Hell, even I have to decide how explicit I want to write a scene like such - especially with things I automatically consider Explicit/18+/NC-21 - where others think it’s no big deal.

But then I am ace and sometimes prudish still and don’t want to write about things in particular. *shudder*

So for many, it’s a case of “fade to black” or cut screen or “wham bam thank you ma’am” and it’s done. Those are the fill in the blanks for the reader to consider and maybe appreciate.

I realize this isn’t the answer you are looking for - but it’s an honest one from an old married cranky dragon who has seen too much too.

[talesfromateenagewriter]

FanFiction Writing

The following characters, settings and some scenes are copyright to Insert Authors Name Here. The rest is purely out of my imagination and is completely fiction. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, events or locales is entirely coincidental. 

FanFiction. It’s a story based off of pure imagination. The characters aren't yours. But everything else is in your hands.

I’m a fan fiction writer. So much so that for a project we’re doing in one of my classes called ‘Genius Hour’ I am writing feminist-based fan fictions, that were firstly based on women’s rights. But I have moved on to racial rights, which is something I'm a very big advocate for. And now for some self advertising. Go check out www.feministfanfiction.com for my stories. And then go to the search bar here on Tumblr and search for @feministfanfictionbyclaudia, or just click on that hyperlink. Then if you have it, go on to Instagram and search up @feministfanfictionbyclaudia. Click follow and when a new fanfic comes out you get a post, along with a story to notify you about the piece. And none of them are meant for you to get offended by what I am saying or symbolizing in the pieces, if you don't like it go ahead and just click the exit button. It works. 

Okay, enough of that. Now I'm going to teach you the secrets of FanFiction writing. 

Always add a copyright paragraph like the one I wrote about at the beginning of this piece. Because, technically it’s plagiarism and that’s illegal. 

Do you want to write fanfics for an audience. Try downloading Wattpad on your phone or go to fanfiction.net, those are some really good websites to write your fanfics or just any stories in general and to read other’s. 

Who’s POV are you going to do it from? Is it the main character? An underrated character? Overrated? 

There are two different types of fanfics: 

The Ships

And literally every other piece of fanfic to ever exist. 

The ships are fanfics that revolve around a couple in the story. If you are unfamiliar with the term ‘ship’ then I'll explain. A ship is basically a couple. If you really like it when the couple is together then you ‘ship them’. If the couple breaks up, the ‘ship has sunk’. Ships are a very dangerous territory when it comes to overly obsessed teens with a book, movie or TV Show. So if you have not explored the heaviness of ships, I strongly recommend you to run into the heaviness and we will happily welcome you. As long as you ship MerDer from Grey’s Anatomy. I mean...you can totally ship whoever you want. 

People who write about ships are basically just extreme fans, maybe not even of the book, movie or TV show, of the ship. 

I will give you the example of MerDer from Grey’s Anatomy. Spoilers Ahead. 

Meredith Grey. Derek Shepherd. Okay, I ship them. Boom, now I write fanfics on “what if...Derek never died and he found out that Zola was interested in Neuro and he taught her and on her first surgery she walks in with the ferry boat scrub cap and says, ‘it’s a beautiful day to save lives’ and Meredith and Derek are in the gallery watching. Then a year later, Bailey preforms his first surgery as a General Surgeon and Meredith and Derek live happily for the rest of their lives with out the torture of Shonda killing them.”

Every other piece of fanfic is basically any other piece of fanfic. Understand? It does not revolve around a ship, but a person or group. Maybe they are advocating for something. Maybe it’s a ‘what if..’ fanfic. And those are great because it’s like a dream, anything can happen. What if this, what if that. 

I’m going to stick with the Grey’s Anatomy examples 

“What if no one died and everyone was happy. All the shipped couples ended up together and Denny got his heart. And there was never Gary Clark. Or the bomb. Or Meredith’s miscarriage. Christina won the Harper Avery. And everyone was happy. And the last scene was Zola preforming her first surgery with everyone of the main cast now in the gallery applauding. She enters with her father’s ferryboat scrub cap and starts with ‘It’s a beautiful day to save lives’.” 

Below, I have an example of my first fanfic on Harry Potter that is up on my Genius Hour blog. Use this example as a template for the copyright and the way the POV is written, as if I'm trying to understand the character’s perspective but still change the scenarios. 

These following characters, settings and some scenes are copyright to J.K Rowling. The rest is purely out of my imagination and is completely fiction. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, events or locales is entirely coincidental. In this and the following pieces I am making a statement, but it is nothing that is meant to offend anyone.  

It was his move.  

He and I have been opponents for years. And this whole time he's been winning. I don't want to be that kind of person that steps out and calls him out for cheating, though it isn't his fault. And I have, but no one heard. I screamed it, but no one listened. No one heard anything except his yells of victory. He disappears for a while, and people notice, move on, but still notice. But did they notice when Bellatrix Lestrange had a period of absence? No.  

Life is like a game of chess, each person has a turn and in the end there's always a winner, always. In life there is always a winner. But there's always plot twists. And right now, I'm hoping for a plot twist. Him, wanting to rule the world, is winning. And I'm losing because I wear a dress. Right now, there's only two people playing the game. Me and him. Me versus him. And he started off by starting to take over the world. I challenged him. You would think that that would be mistake number one, and so did I. His second play? The Battle of Hogwarts. Check.  

Before I say my rebuttal, I should clarify. Did I get killed in the Battle of Hogwarts? Yes. Did I die in the battle? No. Because the things that kill you don't kill you. You can't die because someone pointed a stick at you. It's what builds up inside of you that kills you, the stick just lets you realize it. So, did I die? No. Not yet. The barriers I have built for myself during my childhood are too strong for a stick. I need to win this game of chess. Because me defeating him will stain his ego, and that is the perfect thing I need as a head start for our next encounter.

My rebuttal? I guess, it's obvious: living. Check.

Voldemort did die, he got murdered by that filthy kid with a scar and a stick. And everything that had built up inside his tiny mind had broken down the debris of his barriers into shreds.  

It's his move and I know exactly how he's going to use it.

He's going to pull out a piece that isn't even part of chess, but it is a part of life. The Privilege Piece. See, the Privilege Piece is a special piece given to people who aren't of my gender. Who cares what they have or haven't done, they get one the second they're born. And see, they all get one. One. Some people never use them in their entire lives and others steal their cards and use them. Use them in every argument they will ever encounter. Voldemort is the second type of person. He will force people to give them their pieces so he can gain more and more for the rest of him. Did you think that because he's dead, he's not him? Well, he is still here, people never really die, and I guess he fits into the category of "People" so, he'll never die.  

He does play the Privilege Piece. Checkmate.  

I don't have a Privilege Piece, I'll never have one-ever. And I got used to that fact in my early years of life. I got used to the fact that I probably won't ever win an argument if the person has at least one privilege piece.  

In a game of chess there’s one person that wants to flip the board over and scream because they’re losing. Usually, it’s because they’re either betting or own a Privilege Piece and aren’t allowed to use it. But they don’t usually flip the table. I flipped the table after he called checkmate.  

Everyone has heard the checkmate. No one heard my screams of protest. No one heard the shouts I shot at him. No one heard my bones break as I fell. No one heard me trying to build those barriers up again. No one told me to stand up and get back on my feet because no one was there.

Soon enough, everything that has bottled up inside of my head starts punching at the titanium barriers I had built. But all these things, these thoughts are stronger than titanium. The thoughts and images come back to me.  

Sirius Black.  

The Longbottom’s.  

Potter.  

Molly Weasley.  

The Malfoy’s.  

The Death Mark.  

Tom Riddle.  

Lord Voldemort.  

And in an instant the stick has defeated me. A stick has permanently stained my ego. My life. I lost everything I had to a chess piece and a stick. All because I wasn’t born with a Privilege Piece.  

-CL

[toomanyfandomsinonebrain]

Name: I care for you Pairing: Severus Snape x reader Summary: the reader is one of the students that get back to Hogwarts after the war, and she asks Snape (for a few months) to teach her Legilimency until he agrees. So, during one of the classes, she accidentally enters his mind and ends up learning that the love for Lily Evans was not as eternal as everyone was told. A/N: And it is a little drama, but I promise a happy end. And I may do series. But I have no idea if I should.

“Miss Y/L/N,” Snape greets you in the evening, once you enter the classroom with the heavy bag on your shoulder. “I see you still haven’t given up on the idea of studying Legilimency.”

“Why would I, sir? It is exciting to spend every evening here.”

“Now, I am doing you a favor, miss, but that is not a reason to keep cajoling me,” Snape smiles with a corner of his mouth, then takes his wand out. “If we are done with the courtesy, shall we begin?”

“Yes, sir,” you stand up and take your wand out, ready to have him rush through your thoughts again and again. Luckily, Snape didn’t mean to hurt you, so he never went deep enough to touch on the painful memories of the war and the tortures, but he does go through your dreams. Quite embarrassing every once in a while.

“Legilimens!” and once again, you recent nightmare appears in front of you, and you feel that your legs start shaking from the repeating Crucio breaking your nerves. For some reason, recalling the Crucio does not hurt any less. A second later, Snape catches you, when you are about to fall on the floor, and helps you sit down. “Y/N? It is fine, I got you. I am sorry,” you breathe in, hissing something. Snape sits down next to you, looking at your face, frowning. “You still have this nightmare...”

“How did you guess?” you grumble, and momentarily regret it. “Excuse me, professor.”

“Y/N, I am not your Dean, but... Maybe you should see a professional to help you deal with these memories,” he hands you a glass of water, as you keep shaking your head, almost aggressively. “Y/N, you have same nightmare every night. Yet you keep coming here, so I keep making you live through it again. Do you care to explain why?”

“I want to be able to defend my mind,” you say dryly, standing up and taking your wand again. “Can we continue?” Snape raises his eyebrow, then stands up and points his wand at you.

“Legilimens!” 

“Protego!” you cast your spell, unconsciously using same spell as the one Harry said he used, even though he never said what happened after that. And he should have - a second later, you slip into Snape’s mind and regret it even too much. You try to pull back, but get totally stuck in his mind. You look around, trying to manage to get out of a dream. It is a dream - they feel more detached than usual memories, you’ve already memorized it from your own mind. The picture is mostly blurry, except for the two people, standing in front of you and holding hands. Before you see the faces of the people, you get pushed out of Snape’s mind and end up on the floor. Before Snape manages to murder you, you start apologizing. “Merlin, I am so, so sorry! Professor, I really didn’t mean to do that.”

“It is alright,” he helps you up, keeping his eyes away. “When you tried to pull out, you started panicing, instead of slowly slipping out. That is why you got stuck. If I didn’t push you out, you would lose yourself... Don’t use Protego when defending yourself in this situation.”

“I am still sorry...” you realize that he is not mad for some reason, so you allow yourself to go further. “Your dream... it felt lonely.”

“Because I am,” he answers calmly, either too tired or too deep in his thoughts to respond as usually.

“Aren’t you married?” Snape smiles, as if you said a funny joke. “What?”

“Discussing personal life of teachers, aren’t we, miss Y/L/N?”

“Sorry...” you look away, and he sighs before explaining.

“I am not a man that a girl would want to marry,” he sits on the table, the hands crossed on his chest. “My scars, my past... It is quite a burden.”

“Oh, I am sure a lot of girls would love to put up with it,” you grin, thinking of your classmates that have developed a crush on him. “And I know what I am talking about,” Snape hums, and you smile. “One more time?”

“I think you’ve had enough for today,” Snape declines the offer, putting his wand away and suddenly turning to you. “Would you like a cup of tea? It does help after going through the nightmares again... I would hate to disturb your mind and then abandon you for Peeves to annoy,” you smile and nod, as Snape leads you into his room, not magically turns the pot on, and puts the herbs in the teapot. You look around, realizing that it may be the one and only time when a student is allowed in Snape’s chambers. It’s usual - ordered, calm, no fried frogs on the walls or burnt human faces. “Surprised that it doesn’t look like a monster’s cave?” you realize that he is laughing at you. Funny, Severus Snape is laughing at a student for expecting his chambers to be so human.

“No, not at all,” you lie, as he pours the tea in two cup and puts one on the table in front of you.

“No poison whatsoever,” he says momentarily. “Only valerian. You have to calm down,” you nod and take a sip, then look at the table, understanding why you are here.

“I won’t talk about it,” everyone’s been convincing you to talk about how you felt, tortured with Cruciatus for hours. Neville was the only one who understood probably - he simply sat by your side, holding your shoulders when you were trying to breathe after a nightmare. At some point, you just started meeting on the Astronomy Tower every night, as you couldn’t sleep, and he was just there for you.

“I know,” Snape answers calmly, drinking his tea. “But I don’t want you sitting with Longbottom on the cold stones every night. You will get sick.”

“Neville helps me.”

“No,” Snape states coldly. “He supports you. You need a safe place. Definitely not your own room in Gryffindor tower, the exact place where you’ve been tortured,” you flinch, and Snape frowns. “It’s been a year and a half. It is time for you to be able to trust someone.”

“I trust...”

“Neville, I know,” he nods. “Is that why you never let go of your wand?”

“You’re stalking me,” you murmur.

“I care for you, you little idiot!” he exclaims finally. “You don’t sleep, you don’t eat... I wonder how you still function.”

“I am functioning fine,” you stand up, attempting to leave, but Snape sighs and locks the door in front of your face. “Professor?”

“Y/N, stop being a child. Sit down,” you obediently sit down, your fist holding onto the wand, as if it’s your only escape. Snape notices it. “Girl, I am saving you. You have to let it go. Your nightmares get more and more intense, I find you outside, freezing in the winter, almost every night,” he sighs again, looking you straight in the eye. “I am sorry.”

“Why are you sorry? It’s my blood, not yours.”

“I was the headmaster, I had to know that they were doing that to you. I was my responsibility. One of.”

“You saved everyone else,” you murmur. “Someone had to be... the spare.”

“You are not the spare,” Snape confronts you quietly. “Not one child in this school is,” you don’t say anything, finishing your tea. “I don’t want you to stay in the Gryffindor Tower,” you raise your eyebrow. “I have contacted your Dean, and she said that you can stay in my chambers until we find a room for you.”

“Your... chambers?”

“Yes. I have two spare rooms, as the chambers are always prepared for the married teachers that may want their families to live with them. You literally will have your own room,” you still stare at him, and Snape snaps. “For Merlin’s sake! Let me fix the mistake I made!”

“Oh... You think that this,” you point at your head. “Is because of you?”

“I was the headmaster, trusted by Dumbledore to take care of the children. Yet here is one that not only I couldn’t save, but the one that is still unable to have a normal life because of it,” Snape’s face becomes deadly serious, as he stares at you. “I will help you.”

“You don’t have to.”

“I know,” he nods and stands up, handing you a key. A usual key, just like ones in the muggle world. “The left door is yours. Lock it, make it your own place. No one can enter this room without your permission, but you should feel safe.”

“I... I don’t know what to say,” you murmur.

“Promise me to sleep well tonight,” he asks you. “Just sleep. Drink tea if you must. Read or do whatever you do to fall asleep, but I have to know that you will get better,” you nod obediently.

“Thank you, sir.”

“It is my responsibility, miss,” he smiles slightly. “Good night now.”

“Good night, sir.”

[montyrachel]

6. Professor Moody (continued)

‘C’min,’ he grunted. I opened the door slowly. ‘Ah, c’mon in. What’s going on?’ ‘Professor?’ I asked unsteadily. Did he just greet me like a friend? I thought uncertainly. ‘What?’ he grunted again, losing all traces of friendliness. ‘I wanted to ask you a question about being an Auror.’ His face tensed. ‘Shoot, I’ll try my best,’ he said finally. ‘Okay,’ I paused, ‘well, maybe it’s more than one.’ I paused again. ‘Okay, well, first of all, what exactly do you do?’ ‘Mainly we just catch Dark Wizards. Why, are you thinking of becoming one?’ ‘Oh, yes, sir,’ I said in a matter-of-fact tone. ‘Why exactly would you like to?’ he asked. ‘Well, all my life I’ve grown up around and in the Darkness. I’ve seen what they do to people- wizards and Muggles alike –and all for Voldemort? What has Voldemort ever done for anyone? What has he –’ Suddenly there was a shuffle of feet and a hand enclosed my mouth. I was being pulled into the corridor. ‘What the bloody hell do you think you’re doing?’ I heard my brother yell in my ear. He let go of me and slammed the door. ‘Lisle, what –’ ‘Don’t go doing that, Rachel!’ I raised an eyebrow. ‘Explain what the hell you’re talking about. All I was doing was asking about being an Auror.’ ‘Never talk about our life with Father. No one needs to know that we’re different from him –they don’t need to know that we disagree.’ ‘Ly! I was talking to Mad-Eye! An ex-Auror! I think it’s safe –’ ‘It’s not safe!’ ‘But it’s Mad-Eye Moody!’ ‘It doesn’t matter who you talk to! A far as anyone’s concerned, you agree fully with Dad! You’re a good little girl who follows everything her daddy says because you know what’s good for you!’ ‘What the hell is wrong with you?!’ He was acting as weird as ever, looking helpless and defeated. ‘Rach, you wouldn’t understand,’ he said finally. ‘You wouldn’t know anything about it.’ ‘Try me,’ I said sternly. ‘Trust me, you don’t know! Nor should you! You’d have had to be there… when it happened –’ he stopped mid-sentence. ‘Okay, well it’s got something to do with Voldemort.’ ‘Keep it down!’ he yelled. ‘Well, that answers that,’ I said. ‘The Dark Lord has a spy here…’ he began, whispering. He looked from Moody’s door and back at me, trying to decide how exactly to reveal something to me. ‘Are you trying to tell me that the famous ex-Auror, who put away half the people that are in Azkaban, is this spy that you’re talking about? Come off it!’ I said unbelievingly. ‘You mustn’t doubt it. No one knows who the spy is –except the Dark Lord and the Death Eaters.’ He looked towards Moody’s door once more. ‘For all you know, it could be Dumbledore!’ This time, I had to stifle a laugh. ‘Dumbledore?!’ I choked. ‘You’ve absolutely gone mad.’ ‘It isn’t Dumbledore –I was just making a point.’ The bell rang and it was time for class. ‘Trust me, Rach. I know what I’m talking about.’ I turned on my heel to find that all Gryffindors gathered around the door, trying to push themselves inside the classroom first. Since I was last in line, I hardly thought I would get a decent seat. As I walked in, I noticed an empty seat in between Harry and Neville. Slowly, I walked to the empty seat, uncertain if it was for me. Harry looked up at me, caught my eye and nodded toward the vacant desk. ‘Saved it for you.’ I sat down next to him and looked to my other side at Neville. ‘Should be an interesting lesson, shouldn’t it?’ Neville asked. ‘I can’t wait to see what he has planned for us.’ The distinctive sound of Moody’s footsteps echoed through the corridor. Within seconds, he emerged through the door. ‘Put those away,’ he grunted, indicating the books upon each of the students’ desks. He picked the attendance sheet up from his own desk and began calling out names. When he got to Harry’s name, he looked up, making eye contact with Harry, but never once glancing upon Harry’s scar. ‘Right then. I’ve had a letter from Professor Lupin about this class. Seems you’ve had a pretty thorough grounding in tackling Dark creatures –you’ve covered boggarts, Red Caps, hinkypunks, gridylows, Kappas, and werewolves, is that right?’ Everyone agreed. ‘But you’re behind –very behind –on dealing with curses.’ I perked up, hopeful for the upcoming year. Defending against curses and dark magic is what I imagined Defence Against the Dark Arts would entail from the beginning. He continued, ‘So I’m here to bring you up to scratch on what wizards can do to each other. I’ve got one year to teach you how to deal with Dark –’ ‘What,’ Ron started, ‘aren’t you staying?’ ‘You’ll be Arthur Weasley’s son, eh? Your father got me out of a very tight corner a few days ago... Yeah, I’m staying just the one year. Special favour to Dumbledore... One year, and then back to my quiet retirement.’ He gave a hearty laugh. ‘So –straight to it. Curses. They come in many strengths and forms. Now, according to the Ministry of Magic, I’m supposed to teach you counter curses and leave it at that. I’m not supposed to show you what illegal Dark curses look like until you’re in the sixth year. You’re not supposed to be old enough to deal with it till then. But Professor’s got a higher opinion of your nerves, he reckons you can cope, and I say, the sooner you know what you’re up against, the better. How are you supposed to defend yourself against something you’ve never seen? A wizard who’s about to put an illegal curse on you isn’t going to tell you what he’s about to do. He’s not going to do it nice and polite to your face. You need to be prepared. You need to be alert and watchful. You need to put that away, Miss Brown, when I’m talking.’ Everyone turned to look at Lavender. She had been showing Parvati her horoscope homework under their desks. ‘So, do any of you know which curses are most heavily punished by wizarding law?’ Ron raised his hand and Moody called on him. ‘My dad told me one… Is it called the Imperius Curse, or something?’ ‘Ah, yes, your dad would know that one,’ Moody said. ‘Gave the Ministry quite a lot of trouble at one point, it did.’ He took a jar from within his desk, inside were three spiders. He pulled one out, set it on his desk in front of him, pointed his wand and it and said very clearly, ‘Imperio!’ Much like Barty Crouch over the summer, the spider obeyed Moody’s every command. Everyone began to laugh and the professor, as if reading my mind, said sternly, ‘Think it’s funny, do you? Would you like it if I did it to you?’ The class, as a whole, stopped laughing instantly. ‘Total control –’ I spoke up. ‘You couldn’t even imagine what someone could make you do under the Imperius Curse!’ ‘That’s right, Rachel,’ Professor Moody said appraisingly. ‘The Imperius Curse is terrible, arguably the worst of the three Unforgivable Curses –’ ‘Well, it’s not always bad,’ I said, thinking back to the Crouches. ‘If you’re using it to subdue an otherwise dangerous criminal, for example –not making them do damage to themselves or others, mind you –then I guess could be all right.’ ‘Is it, now?’ He raised an eyebrow. ‘Moving on… Years back, there were a lot of witches and wizards being controlled by the Imperius Curse. Some job for the Ministry, trying to sort out who was being forced to act, and who was acting of their own free will. ‘The Imperius Curse can be fought, and I’ll be teaching you how, but it takes real strength of character, and not everyone’s got it. Better avoid being hit with it if you can. CONSTANT VIGILANCE!’ He yelled suddenly, causing every student to jump a foot in the air. ‘Anyone else know one? Another illegal curse?’ To my surprise and, it seemed, to his, Neville raised a trembling hand. ‘Yes?’ ‘There’s one –the Cruciatus Curse,’ he said in a distant voice. Figures he’d know that one, I thought. You see, both of Neville’s parents were tortured to insanity by the Cruciatus Curse. ‘Your name’s Longbottom?’ Neville nodded. ‘The Cruciatus Curse. Needs to be a bit bigger for you to get the idea,’ Moody said. ‘Engorgio!’ The spider swelled to the size of a large tarantula. ‘Crucio!’ Rolling over and over, it legs bent in towards its body. The spider began to shudder and jerk more violently. Neville grabbed my forearm in a death grip. ‘Stop it!’ Hermione yelled, looking at Neville, who was scared out of his wits. His face was drained of all colour and his eyes were wide with terror, staring at the spider. ‘Neville?’ I asked, worried. Even after the spider was put back into the jar, Neville was staring, horror-stricken, where the spider had been moments ago. ‘Neville,’ I said again. Nothing. ‘Neville!’ I gave his shoulder a shake. He was trembling from head to toe. Slowly he turned to face me. ‘That’s how it happened?’ he muttered, scared. I nodded. A flicker of hatred and determination flashed across his eyes. ‘That’s absolutely terrible!’ ‘It is,’ I agreed simply. He turned back to Professor Moody again.