#v: wizarding world

[thenightmareofyourdrems]

                   ˜”*°•.      Silence .  It  was  surprising  how  warmly  she’d  embraced  silence  after  years  of  loudness.  And  yet,  her  one-year  break  was  over  as  her  mother  had  so  confidently  announced.  The  great  Skye  Riley  was  back  in   the  spotlight  and  she  NEEDED  to  be  bright ,  to  be  confident,  to  be  smiley  and  stunning .   He  was  dead .  She  needed  to  be  the  star  she’d  always  been .  He’d  grabbed  that  thing.  He’d  smashed  his  head .  She  was  fine  now.  Fully  recovered .  She  had  no  reason  NOT  to  shine .   He’d  died  in  front  of  her  eyes  and  she’d  left  him  there  to  rot . She  had  to  restart  her  career.

Eyes  remained  fixed  on  the  mirror .  Her  once  long  hair  now  gone  -  lost  in  the  hands  of  panic  attacks,  the  nightmares  from  that  night  of  the  accident.  And  yet,   it  wasn’t  her  appearance  that’d  kept  her  standing  there .  No .  Confusion  had  come  in  waves  upon  seeing  the  letter .  An  invitation  from  Rhaegar …  She  was  surprised  he’d  reached  out  after  everything  that’d  happened  She’d  been  cruel,  after  all.  The  things  she’d  told  him  and  Gemma …  She’d  blamed  them  all,  when  they’d  merely  wanted  to  help .  And  yet,  if  he  was  willing  to  give  her  the  chance,  or  well…  even  to  simply  insult  her  out  of  spite,  she  was  willing  to  take  it .  It  was  better  than  staying  at  home  haunted  by  thoughts .                

Mirror  was  put  back  into  her  pocket.  Hand  was  brought  upon  the  door  and  with  a  deep  breath,  she  knocked .

Plotted Starter for @rh4egar

[rexheroum]

Born to a powerful witch (Dame Amyra Areia) & her muggle paramour, Lord Jonathan Percy, alongside his twin — a witch named Aislin.

At age 10, the twins were sent off to the Lunaruzian Royal Academy for Magics.

Basics of Alastair’s time in the Royal Academy: - House of Dragonhearts — traits: bravery, selflessness, outgoing, reckless, adrenaline junkies; colors: black and crimson - Wand — 14.25 inches long wand made of cypress wood with a unicorn hair in its core and is super flexible. - Companion Animal(s): Pooh the Fox and Athena the Horned Owl - Protection Animal: Red Squirrel - Magical Specialties: Protection, Healing, Reflection Spells

Alastair graduated the Lunaruzian Royal Acadey for Magics right before finding out he is the heir to Queen Relta, a powerful witch and his eldest half-sister. He requested he be able to work as a professor at the academy until it was time to serve as King.

Alastair was allowed to become a professor, teaching defense against malicious magic such as protection and reflection spells at advanced levels.

Alastair is also gifted in divination, his specialty being cartomancy, but he saves that to entertain his “situationships”.

*This is NOT Po.tterverse, and I am anti-JK.R.*

[jadedexp]

"Ok."

Evanreg Microfic/Making out/Hints to rosekiller & bitchkiller/ 1k words

Six, seven, eight, nine, ten.

Evan timed the flicking of his lighter to the obsessive counting in his head. Hoping that someway it’ll drown out the memory of Sirius leading Barty upstairs.

One, two, three, four, five, sixseveneightnine-

“Fuck.” He whispers, squeezing his eyes shut. Evan didn’t even want to be here. Barty convinced him, saying that it’s gonna be ‘fun’. Now he’s out here in the cold while Bartys inside fucking Sirius while wearing the jacket Evan gave to him.

Evan lets out a shaky exhale, swallowing his anger, he flicks open the lighter and starts counting.

One, two, three, four-

“There you are.”

Evan looks up from his lighter to see Regulus standing in front of him wearing a smirk on his face. He carried a half empty whiskey bottle in his left hand and a key in the right.

“Where’d you get that from? Looks expensive.” Evan asks, nodding to the bottle in his hand.

“Swiped the keys to the wine cellar off of Potter.”

Evan nodded, mutely. Makes sense.

“Why’re you out here?” Reg asks.

He shrugged.

“Party started to get boring.”

Regulus just nods and holds the whiskey out to him with an expectant look. Evan took a swig and handed it back. They passed the bottle back and forth overtime until both loosened up with a steady buzz.

Evan took this time to gaze at the boy in front of him. Regulus looked sweet in this light. His skin flushed, eyes a little dewy, and lips glossy with spit and the booze. Evan always knew Regulus was nice to look at, but this is the first time he ever thought of him as beautiful.

Regulus Black was beautiful. Very, very beautiful.

Something curled in his stomach and his hands itched to touch him in any way he could- in any way he was allowed to. It’s a feeling that he thought only Barty could bring out. So, it’s a surprise that Regulus is making him feel this way.

Though, it’s probably just the booze. 

Regulus, oblivious to his musings, wraps his arms around himself tighter. A shiver wracks through his body and his teeth chatter together loudly.

“Cold?”

Regulus rolls his eyes.

“No, I’m just shaking from excitement.” He replies sarcastically.

Evan laughs and holds his arms out in invitation. He meant it as a joke. Wholeheartedly expecting Regulus to tell him to fuck off and give the whisky back. But tonight seems to be full of surprises.

Regulus pushes his way into Evans’ space and wraps his arms loosely around his waist. Only then did he notice that Regulus is almost as tall as him and he’s also the perfect height for Evan to kiss him on the forehead or to bury his face in the juncture of his neck.

The mere thought of it is making him warm & lightheaded.

“Aren’t you gonna warm me up?” Regulus asks, bratty as ever.

He huffed a laugh and wrapped his arms around the boy, pulling him closer. Regulus sinks into the embrace and buries his face in the crook of his neck. Evan in turn, buries his nose in the dark curls and inhales.

They fit together like two puzzle pieces and Evan begins to think that it might not be the booze that’s making him feel this way. He doesn’t know how much time they spend like that. It could’ve been 20 minutes or an hour. Either way, it doesn’t matter. 

He didn’t plan on letting go but Regulus suddenly pulls his head back and Evan struggles to not whine from the loss.

“I should probably get this back to the cellar before Potter notices.” Regulus swipes the bottle of his hand and takes one last drink out of it before putting the cap back on. He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand and looks up at Evan from beneath his eyelashes.

So boyish & lacking manners.

So rare for Regulus.

“Do you want one last drink too?” 

Evan doesn’t know what came over him but one moment, he’s staring at sweet looking Regulus and in another, he’s kissing him breathless. 

And Regulus is kissing him back. 

It’s soft, slow, and intense. The total opposite of kissing Barty who bites and claws at him like he’s starving. No. Kissing Regulus means dragging it out, taking no time to breathe, and savoring the taste. 

Evan has never felt anything so addictive before.

Regulus pulls away and Evan can’t help but litter wet kisses across his cheek and down his neck, pausing to mouth and suck at the sweet spot under his jawline. Evan can hear Regulus panting in his ear and how he’s trying desperately to smother his moans.

It makes something inside of him purr in delight.

Regulus places his hands on Evan’s shoulders and pushes him back lightly. Evan goes back without a fuss but his arms remain wrapped around the boy’s waist.

“I-I um- I thought you and Barty had something going on.” His voice was breathy and he was vibrating out of his skin. 

“We don’t.” He replies and it’s true. They’re nothing of importance and it’s not like Barty thinking of him right now. 

Plus, Evan hasn’t kissed Regulus enough for his liking. Evan cups Regulus’ cheek and pulls him forward to kiss him again. Regulus goes without a fight and melts into him. They break away and Evan murmurs to the boy in arms, “What time do you need to be home?” 

Regulus lets out a breathless laugh and shakes his head. 

“I don’t have a bedtime, y’know.”

Evan laughs, embarrassed, and leans closer to hide his face in the crook of his neck. 

“Right. Forgot.” Evan realizes right then and there that he’ll be crossing a line. Whether it be with Reg or Barty, something is going to change between them. 

He just can’t bring himself to care. Not when he has Regulus this close and not when it feels right.

“Stay the night at my place. Ok?” 

There was pause before Regulus wraps his arms across Evans shoulders and leaves a lingering kiss under his ear. 

“Ok.”

[yukiwhitetm]

Just seen Wicked on the big screen (Amazing! Loved that I could see their facial expressions, which I couldn't in the West End) and it inspired a little Tim Drake prompt in me. Sorry if this isn't super coherent, as I'm disabled so now I'm v. tired.

OK, so this is also inspired a little by that one story where Tim was a street kid who snuck into the Drakes' mansion and squatted there, then pretended to be the Drake's bio kid Jackson Drake when he became Robin (somewhere in my AO3 bookmarks). And by this one White Collar (I've never watched the TV series but still enjoy the crossover fics) crossover I have open in a tab but not yet read where Tim has a twin Tom who becomes Neal while Tim is Red Robin, according to the blurb.

Tim Drake Prompt:

To the outside world, Timothy Drake is the perfect son and heir, a boy born with a silver spoon in his mouth and waited on hand and foot by his staff and family. However, the outside world only sees what it was meant to see.

To Tim Drake of the Noble and Most Ancient House of Drake, he was born a squib in a long line of witches and wizards. He was born lesser than his parents Jack and Janet Drake, his younger sister Athena "Tina" Drake and the whole wizarding world. (We don't discriminate, his parents say, gesturing at his sister's wheelchair.) He was born lesser than their ancestors' wands and the magical artefacts slotted into every corner and crevice of their mansion. While his parents go swanning off all over the world with Tina in tow to discover long lost secrets of their magical past, Tim is left knocking about the large empty mansion alone, not even a house elf in sight (they travelled with the family, obviously).

Tim was born into a world that didn't accommodate him, in fact outright excluded and hated him. Born into a magical world that no majs can never know of but made for a no maj world, Tim doesn't fit in anywhere. He can't live in the magical world... but he can't ignore it either.

Until he becomes Robin III. Sort of. Maybe? He hopes so, one day...

Jason (and then later Damian) would like to disagree.

I struggle so much with chronic fatigue that I don't think I could ever write this prompt into a full story. Sorry it's a bit of a long prompt! I'm a lengthy writer. Feel free to write this, just credit me!

[dollsanddandy]

Me refusing to let go of any obsessions in the new year:

[vrisbian]

So finally listening to ep 32, and the Fireside, I actually am so interested in Mirara as a character. Second youngest in the Conclave, true believer, lonely with a social creature as her familiar being put on blast for having maybe one spirit shes intimate with.

It makes me really look at her costuming. All the witches represent a certain aspect of folkloric takes on witches, but Mirara is the one who chooses to be fully masked and cloaked in her presentation (more parallels with Suvi as she dressed for dinner or beginning of Act 2). Literally has put a barrier between herself and the world, and literally making it harder to understand her or see her as a human woman.

Being real this all does change how I hc she actually looks under all the presentation. Like I think shes using magic to create this bigger and creepier costuming.

[svjetllost]

It had always been Draco—her mother’s doing, naturally. A decree, not a suggestion. That would have been her crowning achievement, marrying off her daughter to a Malfoy. And yet, much to both their misfortunes, Pansy had gone and developed a mind of her own. Oh, she cared for Draco, always had—likely always would. But whatever they had as children had long since cooled into something steadier, something real. Friendship.

And now, with no glittering engagement on the horizon, it was her mother unraveling at the seams, while Pansy herself? She couldn’t bring herself to care. She feigned concern, of course, played the role where necessary, but her ambitions had shifted—tilted toward something far less suffocating. Choice. A life that was hers to carve, without the looming specter of her parents’ expectations.

“Will do. Should I march off right this second? Deliver the grand declaration?” She draped herself over the railing, stretching just enough to snatch the cigarette from his mouth. “And what exactly should I say? That I object? That I think his parents have made a ghastly mistake?” She exhaled, smoke curling in the damp air. The weather was still atrocious—cold, wet—but there was always that fleeting moment in the afternoon where the sky threatened to be something close to pleasant.

She tilted her head back, gaze fixed on the sullen sky. “And you wouldn’t have picked Astoria?” The mockery in her voice was almost lazy, barely needing to be drawn out. Another inhale. Another drag. Her lips curled as she side-eyed him. “Is there a reason you’re saying all of this out loud? Do you want something from me?” Because the two of them had never been that close. And she doubted very much he’d be throwing around compliments for free.

continued from here with @slythzriins

[stromuprisahat]

... what’s the difference between a witch and a wizard, really? You might say that wizards are men and witches are women. But that isn’t the case. There are male witches, too. There were male witches, too. And they also got burned at the stake. No, the difference between the witch and the wizard instead relates to their relationship with nature. The wizard studies hefty books up in his tower. He takes in the knowledge they offer and learns to apply that in a world beyond the castle walls. The witch, meanwhile, is out in the forest, digging for magic herbs with her bare, dirty hands. Besides this, the witch (whether good or wicked) also performs rituals. She dances naked at the forest’s edge, makes offerings in the pale moonlight, and performs some sort of rite with menstrual blood or medicinal plants or whatever it might be. In short, there is almost always a spiritual aspect to the witch. One that you won’t find in the wizard in the same way. Although Hermione Granger in J. K. Rowling’s Harry Potter books is called a “witch,” she is in actual fact a female wizard. There just isn’t really a word for those. Which there should be, of course. What separates the witch from the wizard is her attitude to nature. The witch is interested in convening with and understanding the plants that give her magical powers, not just because they give her powers, but because that connection means something to her. The wizard, however, can’t really be bothered with all that. He’s interested in magic for the power it brings him over the external world. Not how it connects him to himself, his body, or the cosmos. He lies much closer to the vision of technology that dominates today’s society. Which is why we need the witch. Not because she is a woman, but because of what she represents: a road not yet traveled.

Mother of Invention: How Good Ideas Get Ignored in an Economy Built for Men (Katrine Marçal)

I didn't expect a description of the difference between Sarkan and Agnieszka's magic in a metaphor in book about history of inventions and women, but here we are, I guess...

[aria-of-deception]

I'd totally fuck you (up)

derogatory

Send “I’d totally fuck you” for my muse’s reaction. | @runyou-clever-boy

The former Slytherin smirked deviously at his old classmate’s declaration, barely holding back a laugh. “What are you on about, Smith? Surely you’re not still holding on to schoolyard grudges after all this time!” This was certainly a reunion he hadn’t expected. Out for a few drinks with some friends, the singer had spotted Zacharias at the other end of the bar and greeted him warmly, if only to mess with the poor man’s head.

“You’re more than welcome to try, of course, but I’d much rather leave the past behind. It’s ancient history! Let me prove it by buying you a drink, aye?” Honestly, he hoped the man might say yes; mending things between them in a public setting would be good for Aro’s image, and he was admittedly curious as to what his classmate had gotten up to in adulthood.

[mage-of-black-robes]

whats your thoughts on Arodithas Pendragon?

HP/student verse

@runyou-clever-boy

“Hmmm? Arodithas…you mean that popular kid who’s a year younger than everyone in our class? The one who thinks it’s funny to mimic my accent and steal my glasses every chance he gets?” Raistlin gave the other an exasperated look, a sort of weary irritation evident in his voice as he recalled his housemate. “Sharing a dorm with him is no picnic, I assure you. I don’t know why Tancred or anyone else hangs around him; his charm is merely superficial, hiding viciousness and entitlement. Although…” The Slytherin paused, tapping his bottom lip thoughtfully as a mischievous glint sparked in his eyes. “Now that you mention him, I do recall a rather interesting bit of information about him. Something I haven’t yet seen fit to tell anyone.”

He smirked and leaned in conspiratorially. If anyone would appreciate this little secret about his rival, it was Zacharias. The two had grown relatively close, and Raist figured he could trust the Hufflepuff. Besides, it was nice to gossip with someone for once instead of being the one gossiped about. “I’ve caught him singing to himself at night, when everyone else is asleep. Lullabies. Nursery rhymes written for small children. Pretty voice, but he sounds so small and shaky when he thinks he’s alone. I wonder if it’s a self-soothing thing.” It probably was, and now that he said it out loud, Raistlin felt like a little bit of a dick. Just a little. It was still satisfying. “Why do you ask?”

[gracexthoughts]

of violent delights chap 10

bad news, good news and everything in between

6 february 1996

Euphemia’s POV 

Screaming pulls me out of my sleep and before I’m fully awake, the door to my room opens and Harry runs in, panicking. “Mia!” 

“Haz! What is it?” 

“Sirius Black! He attacked Ron! He’s in the dorm!” 

“What?” I yell, leaping up out of bed, grabbing my wand from my night stand and running out of my room. As I step into the common room I see Ron standing by the couches; students coming down both staircases to see what the ruckus is. “Ron! What happened?” 

“Excellent, carrying on the party here then?” Fred asks, coming down the stairs, not seeming to mind the girls ogling him and George in just their sweatpants. 

“Everyone back to bed!” Percy snaps, following Fred down and pinning his Head Boy badge to his nightshirt. 

“Percy, Sirius Black! In our dorm! Came at me with a knife!” Ron cries breathlessly. 

“Now really! I am very glad Gryffindor won the match but it is far too late for parties! Back to bed all of you!” McGonagall says, storming into the dorm as she ties her dressing robe around her waist. “Percy, Euphemia I expected better than this.” 

“Professor, I certainly didn’t authorize this. I was just telling everyone to go back to bed, Ron just had a bad dream,” Percy says quite indignantly. 

“It wasn’t a nightmare!! Sirius Black was standing over me and he was holding a knife!” Ron yells, gesturing wildly around. 

“Oh please, how would he get through the portrait hole?” McGonagall asks. 

“Ask him!” Ron screeches pointing at the entrance to the common room. 

With a sigh, and looking still very suspicious, McGonagall moves out of the common room to speak to the portrait hole, the rest of us following to the very edge of the common room to listen. “Sir Cadogan, did you recently let a man through the common room?” 

“Yes, of course, m’lady!” The painted knight answers, puffing up his chest. “He had the whole week's passwords. Read them off a piece of paper. I was impressed with his dedication to security!”

After a moment, McGonagall comes back very stern looking and white as a sheet. “Which one of you foolishly wrote down all of this week's passwords?” She asks, her voice shaking in a way I’ve never heard before. The rest of us silently look around at each other until, from the very back of the room ,Neville Longbottom raises his hand. 

Hours later and not a single one of us is able to think about sleeping: nearly every Gryffindor student is in the common room huddled into small groups murmuring between themselves. We all know the castle is being searched again, desperately hoping that this time they catch him. 

Harry and I sit in front of the dying fire, surrounded by our friends trying to be reassuring. Harry’s head is on my shoulder, exhaustion from a long day fighting to overcome the fear we both feel. 

As the sun starts streaming through the Tower’s windows, McGonagall returns, her face grave and pale. Sirius Black escaped again and Harry and I are no safer than we were before. 

23 february 1997

I exit the greenhouse, wrapping my cloak tighter around me as the cold winter wind hits my skin, causing my hair to fly in front of my face. Angelina, Alicia and I walk quickly back to the warmth of the castle, sighing as we step over the threshold, warmth enveloping us again. “Godric, I can’t wait for spring. I’m so tired of the cold,” Angelina sighs, shivering slightly as we continue through the halls again. 

“Honestly, I don’t think I’ve warmed up since practice the other night,” Alicia shivers. Wood had us practicing constantly still, gearing up for our match against Slytherin that is still nearly two months away. The other night’s practice was so windy, we all sat huddled in front of the fire once we were back in the common room. As we walk further into the castle, our conversation is cut short by distant yells and geers.

We turn the corner, a large crowd blocking the halls. Grunts, gasps and shouts echo off the stone walls. Students of all houses are shouting at someone in the middle. I sigh, knowing as a prefect I can’t leave without dealing with whatever this is. “I’ll see you guys back in the tower,” I say to Angelina and Alicia. I drop my bag by the wall and push my way through the crowd to see two students locked in a fist fight at the center of the circle. The boys separate for a moment, I recognize Mattheo and a 6th year Ravenclaw whose name I can’t remember, before Mattheo takes another swing, connecting his already bloody fist with the Ravenclaw’s face. 

“Mattheo!” I yell, trying to get his attention but he either can’t hear me over the other students or is ignoring me. The boys continue grappling until the Ravenclaw boy manages to push Mattheo off him, causing Mattheo to stumble back into the crowd of students. I take this as my opening and jump in front of Mattheo before he can go after the Ravenclaw again. “Mattheo! Hey, cut it out!” 

“Get out of my way, Potter,” Mattheo grumbles trying to shove past me but I plant my hands on his shoulders to try and keep him from lunging again. 

“Stop! You’re going to get-” I’m cut off when Mattheo manages to push past me, causing me to stumble slightly. Mattheo takes a punch to his face before he can land one of his own, but he recovers quickly, managing to get the Ravenclaw boy to the ground. Mattheo keeps punching, seemingly with no intention to stop, but soon Theodore Nott jumps into the ring, wrapping his arms around Mattheo from behind and dragging him back as Professor McGonagall’s voice rings out and students begin to scatter. I turn to see McGonagall and Snape rushing towards us, Mattheo pushing himself out of Nott’s grasp. 

“What in Merlin’s name is going on here?” McGonagall exclaims, looking between Nott, Mattheo, the Ravenclaw and me. None of the boys speak up, Mattheo and the Ravenclaw boy still glaring at each other. 

“Mr. Riddle? Mr. Nott?” Snape asks, turning his cold eyes to the two Slytherin boys. Still silent. 

“Mr. Davies? Miss Potter?” McGonagall asks, turning to me. 

“I just got here, Professor. I’m not sure what happened,” I respond, shrugging my shoulders. 

“Well! If no one will supply any information. 15 points from Ravenclaw and Slytherin and detention for the both of you! I will not have this muggle brawling in the halls, do you understand?” The boys nod slightly, Mattheo wiping blood from the corner of his mouth. “I expect better of you, particularly from a prefect!” McGonagall scolds, her piercing gaze directed at Mattheo. “Miss Potter, please escort the boys to the hospital wing and that will be the end of this,” McGonagall adds and I nod in acknowledgement before she continues on her way. Snape eyes us coldly for a moment before following after her. 

No one moves until the professors have turned the corner. Davies glares at the Slytherins boys, spitting a bloody loogie at their feet. “Fuckin’ monster, just like your father,” the boy growls to Mattheo. Mattheo tries to lunge for the boy again but Nott holds him back. 

“That’s enough!” I snap, a sense of protectiveness taking over my actions, surprising the boys and myself. 

“Little Euphemia Potter, defending You-Know-Who’s son? Pathetic,” Davies coos, his eyes scanning my form. I stare him down as he takes a step towards me, threateningly. 

“Get the fuck away from me before I throw your ass in even more detentions,” I say lowly, my eyes daring this boy to push me. I hold his gaze as he weighs his options, eventually shaking his head and brushing past me and the Slytherin boys. “Mattheo, are you okay?” I ask softly. 

“Fine,” he grumbles, pulling out of Nott’s grip and walking past us, not sparing me another look. 

“We don’t need your help, Potter,” Nott says sharply, pulling my attention away from Mattheo’s retreating figure. 

“A simple thank you would suffice,” I snap moving to grab my bag where I had left it, turning to leave the scene but a hand wraps around my arm, preventing me from leaving. 

“He doesn’t need you fucking with his head so whatever you’re doing-” 

“Hey! I didn’t ask for this anymore than he did,” I rip my arm from his grip and cut him off, not of the mind to be lectured by someone who has never sent a kind word my way. “And for the record, I’m not doing anything. Despite what you and your friends seem to think, I don’t have it out to get anyone. I’m just trying to get through the year, so excuse me if I don’t subject myself to your baseless insults,” I snap, turning on my heel and continuing down the hall. 

“He’s not as hard as he pretends to be,” Nott calls after me, stopping me in my tracks. I turn slowly, halfway down the hall from Nott now. 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Nott watches me, his eyes seeming to search my face for a moment. 

“Just… try not to hurt him,” he says finally, his eyes suddenly soft, before turning and walking down the hall, leaving me to contemplate what the hell he means by that.  

Nott’s voice rings in my head as I make my way up to Gryffindor Tower and I think back to my birthday. Mattheo may not have known it, but he helped me a lot that day just by distracting me, by being there. I drop my bag on my bed and rummage through my bedside drawer, finding a pack of cigarettes and turning back to leave the common room. The trolls hired to guard the Fat Lady's portrait, a condition of her return to duty after Sir Cadogan’s catastrophic failure, eye me suspiciously as I exit the common room minutes after I entered but I pay them no mind. 

Soon, I reach the top of the stairs to the Astronomy Tower and, as expected, Mattheo is sitting against one of the stone pillars, his face turned to look out over the grounds, his hands playing with a black zippo mindlessly. “Go away, Nott,” Mattheo grumbles without looking over. 

“Wow, do I look that bad?” I ask sarcastically, staying over by the stairs. His head turns to me, blood dried onto his skin, his brown eyes distant and sadder than I think I’ve ever seen them. His bottom lip is bloody and there’s a cut across the bridge of his nose, blood drying under his nose and his knuckles. 

“Go away, Potter,” he says, turning his head away from me. I walk towards him slowly, not listening to his instruction. “Seriously, fuck off. I’m not in the mood for a lecture,” he insists, his fists clenching. I stop next to him, holding the cigarette down to him. 

“No lecture. I just owe you a cigarette,” I say simply, causing him to look up at me and then my hand. After watching me for a moment, he reaches up with bloody fingers and takes the cigarette from me. I sit down by the next stone pillar, putting my legs under the metal railing so they dangle over the edge of the tower and I light up my own cigarette, leaning on the railing as I look over the school grounds. 

“I don’t want to be my father,” Mattheo says eventually, his voice cracking slightly. I turn my head to look at him sitting to my left, his gaze still fixed on the horizon, his eyes shining with unshed tears. 

“I don’t think you are,” I respond honestly, turning back to look out over the grounds. After a moment, I hear Mattheo light the cigarette I gave him and take a long inhale, and we sit in comfortable silence watching as the late afternoon sun sinks slowly into the horizon’s embrace. 

✦

I return back to my room well after sunset, cold from sitting in the winter air for longer than I expected. Mattheo had barely spoken in the few hours we sat together in the Astronomy Tower but I didn’t leave until he did. “Thank you,” he’d said as we walked down the last stairs of the tower together, so quiet I almost didn’t hear it. Our eyes had met and the rest of the world had disappeared for a moment as Mattheo and I looked at each other, an understanding passing silently between us, leaving me with a twist in my stomach that has only grown as I made my way back to my dorm. 

I sigh, looking at my bag on my bed, my untouched schoolwork calling to me. I pull out my books, flop onto the love seat in front of the fire but before I can even crack the spine, there’s a tapping on my window. I look up to see my owl, Pax, resting on the windowsill outside, an envelope in his beak. 

“Hi buddy,” I whisper softly as I open the window, the brown and white bird flying into the room to rest on the mantle. I take the letter from him, petting him as I turn over the envelope to see the Ministry of Magic seal on the back. 

I rip open the envelope, my hands shaking. As soon as I turned 18 a little under a month ago, I sent in a petition for custody of Harry to be taken from the Dursley’s and granted to me. I’ve been anxiously awaiting the verdict and have not been patient about it either. 

Dear Miss Euphemia Potter, 

We are writing to inform you of a custody change of your brother. Due to no objection from Mr. and Mrs. Dursley and your passionate testimony of your plans and proof of ability, you are hereby granted full custody of Harry J. Potter, your request accepted. Please see below stipulations and expectations of guardians and sign the attached agreement of custody by 31st of March 1997 to confirm this change. 

Hoping you are well, 

Ethel Woodwark 

Junior Minister of Magical Minors 

I laugh as I finish the letter, joy and relief overflowing from my body. Tears threaten to spill over onto my cheeks as I read the words again and agin, confirming that I understand them and the best is true. The realization sets in and I burst from my room, searching the common room for Harry. When I don’t see him, I look at my watch and realize he must still be in his anti-dementor lesson with Lupin. I leave the Common Room again, nearly sprinting through the halls to find my brother. 

“Harry!” I yell, bursting through the classroom door, startling Harry and Lupin who are standing in the center of the room. 

“Mia! What’s wrong?” Harry asks, searching my face for signs of fear or anger. 

“Nothing! For once, everything is happening exactly as we want it to,” I laugh, holding out the letter for him to read. He takes the parchment from me, his green eyes scanning the words quickly and a smile growing on his face. 

“Is this real?” Harry asks, looking back to me.

“We never have to go back there again. They can’t hurt us anymore,” I affirm, nodding as the tears return to my eyes. Harry’s face lights up and he slams into me, hugging me tightly. 

“You did it, we’re free,” he says laughing in joy as the force of his hug causes me to stumble back slightly. I laugh and wrap my arms around his shoulders, relief crashing down over us like a tidal wave at the thought of never having to live in fear of our aunt and uncle again. “Thank you,” Harry whispers to me. 

“Anything for you, Haz,” I respond, pulling back to cup my brother’s head in my hand and meet his eyes. “I mean that.” 

“Congratulations,” Lupin says with a sad smile from behind us. Lupin and I have barely spoken in the last month other than about classwork; my eyes meet his and I nod with a small smile.

“Thank you,” I respond quietly, releasing Harry from my grip. “I’m sorry to interrupt your lesson, but I figured-” 

“It's quite alright,” Lupin says, holding up a hand, “Good news should never wait.” I smile appreciatively at the man and turn back to Harry to see joy in his eyes I have not seen in far too long, a lightness in my chest I’ve not felt in a long time.

a/n; fuck the dursleys they’re outta here. anyyyway hope you guys enjoyed this please feel free to comment thoughts i love hearing it and thank u for reading!!

taglist; @purplegardenwhispers @somethingswiftandstyles (if you’d like to be added to the taglist comment or dm me)

[uselessdevice]

@hvbris // & HERMIONE

"Flagrante Curse, huh? That was a nice touch."

Rufus had already been impressed by Hermione's long list of accomplishments when her training application had come through to the Ministry. And so had everybody else, considering how swiftly she'd been accepted. But to see her skills in action for himself?

That was entirely different than a list on parchment. And of course, a little word of mouth had followed too, all kinds of stories reaching his ears about the long fight against Lord Voldemort.

All this by a teenager. But of course, she was no teenager now. She was a young woman, graduated from school and very eager to take her next steps in the world while making it a better place than she found it.

Seeing as he had experience in two different worlds of Magical Law Enforcement, Rufus had been assigned to mentor Miss Granger on her path to becoming an auror.

"Heck, I don't think you even need me here." He added with a grin.

[wolfensong]

Verses :

Main/ Default: default setting for Peter is He’s living by himself in the woods in a shitty trailer ( where ever the setting is if it’s modern ). Working as a car mechanic and background info is he is the last of his pack here in America after a betrayal by his cousin’s boyfriend led to his family getting wiped out by hunters .

He has family in Romania as hes half Romanian , and can speak the language fluently . It should be noted thanks to his family line’s history of having both witches and werewolves in his family he has dreams about the future and can control plants and can do small bits of magic however this part of him is used so little he doesn’t really know he’s using it or doing it till it’s pointed out or he’s concentrating very hard .

V; a better ending :

Basically the events of hemlock grove ( the show and book) happen but Peter and Roman stay together and handle their shit with the help of a new girl Dis and some strange creature Kas , this ends in a huge polycule with kids — the happy ending they deserved wirh @upirprince / @distoretion

V; a pack of knuckleheads — (Peter’s sonic verse )

G.U.N becomes aware of previously thought extinct werewolves and sends their greatest warrior in tracking and hunting to capture the Peter for their studies. ( they send Knuckles lol ) During a lengthy scuffle, and Knuckles landing into danger, he is rescued by the man he had been pursuing, and during a recuperation period at Peter’s trailer, they become roommates and eventually Packmates /brothers , and the two realize just how alike their circumstances are! Srsly they are so much alike I cry .

Verse with @warriorscend open to other sonic muses .

Wizarding world Au :

Peter already had a hard time in Europe as it is he was a Romani, but he was also a born werewolf, different then the ones bitten by the fearsome greyback he turned into the actual animal and kept most of his humanity intact a feat only available to his kind and other born weres .  He has a gift for magic but who would let a werewolf go to hogwarts, never the less peter is determined to learn magic and find a way to make things better for his kind.

WALKING DEAD VERSE : 

Peter was a drifter when the virus hit, his mother was somewhere in Europe and he had no way of contacting her. 

He had tried to find his friend/boyfriend Roman but by the time he had went to the Godfrey mansion it was engulfed in flames and he couldn’t make out his scent . 

He has then traveled around as both wolf and man seeing as how the Walkers seem to leave him be they don’t bother animals that much unless really really hungry . 

He was able to survive among them and on his own for a while till he began to grow lonely he was a pack animal after all, and started to seek out other people if only to prove he wasn’t alone in the world. 

Age: 18-26

Species: werewolf 

Family: Mother : unsure if alive or dead 

Grandfather: dead 

Uncle: dead 

Cousin: dead 

Wearing: a simple green shirt with brown vest and black leather jacket, and worn blue jeans and old brown boots.       Carrying: a small brown leather  bag with matches and skillet and blanket and one hunting knife.

[toss-a-coin-to-your-stan-account]

hate to disneychannelpost but like. It's kinda fucked how stevie was literally like "hey the competition where only the winning child in any wizard family keeps their powers and everyone else gets the gift they've been using their whole lives taken away forever so siblings in every single wizarding family for generation after generation are pitted against each other for their entire childhoods/adolescence is actually. y'know. kinda fucked. we should make it so that stops." and then they shattered her body to pieces

[sixbillicnsouls]

( ❛ ╾ @acourtcfmuses )

"Well, well.." Lux sat up from her laid back position on the couch. She didn't need Ominis' super hearing to know who was walking through that door. She had stayed put when Eilidh had walked in moments before but now she turned to the next person. Sebastian. "Someone is certainly out past their bed time. Have fun did you?"

[serpentinebrando]

Closed Starter | @runyou-clever-boy

Lucien knew he had a long night ahead of him, but he couldn’t help being amped up! Being onstage, hearing the crowd cheering and singing along with him, basking in their attention, it all felt incredible! The spotlight was almost more of a drug for him than his other vices, of which he would freely admit that he had many. It was his first and so far only true love. He craved it. Coveted it like the richest of treasures.

Tonight was no different. The atmosphere was electric, and not just because of the magic lighting the stadium and powering the pyrotechnics. He was halfway through his set when he recognized a familiar face in the crowd, someone he remembered from school. It took a full song for him to finally put a name to the face, but when he did, he grinned wildly. Zacharias Smith. How fortunate! They hadn’t exactly been close, but Lucien knew a beneficial ally when he saw one, and the Smith family had good standing. Besides that, he remembered Zach being a pretty decent kid, and was genuinely happy to see him again.

Scheming already, he took advantage of a short water break to let his personal security guards know to escort Zacharias backstage after the show for a VIP party. He wanted to make sure the man had a good time, and chat with him if they got the chance. Bounding back onstage, he finished the last few songs with even more energy than he’d started the show with, periodically finding Zach in the crowd and keeping an eye on him.