#vanity!alastor au

[alacetor-the-duckies-deer]

Okay so was thinking on the SinOfVanity!Alastor AU, or just the Sins themselves really, and how on one hand it kind of fits if all the Sins were previously sinner, but I also think it would be more fitting if they were previously Hellborns. Maybe they worked with Lucifer to establish some kind of order in hell and got the power upgrade that way, or just each happen to amass enough power to do it, or worked together to amass the power because Lucifer wasn't doing a good enough job, idk.

But then I'm trying to figure out what sort of hellborns they could have each been.

Beelzebub and Asmodeus are easy enough, they were (/are, considering Lucifer is still an Angel) a Hellhound and a Succubus respectively, as she's a fox-demon, and foxs are related to dog, their both in ths clad canidae, and, like, Succubus are sex demons (even though Ozzie is very rooster coded and the closest sort of similarity there are that the Succubi do have wings. Supose he could be Ars Goetia since the only iens we've seen are bird like, but i still think Succubi.)

And that just leaves Satan, Laviathan, Mammon, and Balphagor, for whomever I have, understandably, nothing.

We've got sinners, Ars Goetia, Imps, and I'm still not sure if "hellborn" is its own catch all category for the rest, or if all but sinners fall into "hellborn" or if it can mean both I guess depending on context?

If we're going off whatever sort of hellborn seems to be from that ring, the Satan is probably an Imp, and Laviathan is whatever sort of Hellborn Glits and Glam are, and same for Balphagor with the sheep demons we see at the hospital. But I'd rather wait till we've actually seen those three.

So that just leaves Mammon, and honestly I think he's an Ars Goetia. It's just straight up the aristocracy, and that's usually the wealthiest people, and I think I'd be funny that guy came from the aristocracy.

[dimneo1010]

In Snowmedia AU Alastor moves in with Vox to the tower.

But not as a business partner, he moves in because they are married/a couple. And with Valentino dead it is now a family business.

Their tower is renamed to AVV's tower.

Audio

Visual

Vanity

(my friend gave me a sick fake tattoo of it hehe)

[hiemaldesirae]

Arrax again: yeah, go ahead and write Fallen Angel Vox!

And yeah, Vox would definitely be A sin, number 8 Vain/Glory/Vanity! Definitely copying big brother Luci!!

Lucifer I think would be a better parent after looking after Vox for eons which is why he 'grounds,' Vox to the Hotel for killing an important human who wasn't supposed to die yet.

Alastor is just smitten and of course possessive. It's why he attempted to kill his muse in the first place--Vox was going to another man's house, and well Alastor didn't want another man touching him.

ohohoho. he tried to kill vox because he got jealous? little LOSER what are u doing!!!! luckily vox seems to be into it but still. hes sooo pathetic what the fuck is up with that little deer freak

idk if i can write anymore rn (wrote 5k on a dissertation today so i wjll just say that i really love all the addins u do for these aus and drop a doodlethat i might not finish

[zaebeecee]

To Sever a Loveless Bond

••RadioDust Soulmate AU••

Part 3/?

First chapter | Previous chapter | Next chapter

Read on AO3

Chapter 3 Art by @fletchingbrilliant

•••

TW for Valentino typical violence under the cut. I make up for it with Angel and Alastor talking again at least? Note: I headcanon Alastor as the same kind of ace that I am, so he IS STILL ACE and this is STILL A SHIPPING FIC.

•••

“Who is it, amorcito?”

Angel Dust’s hand froze over the brush laid on his vanity, the light sound of his dressing room door clicking shut somehow feeling as loud as if Valentino had just slammed it. Angel curled his fingers slightly, then committed to trying for casual, picking up the brush and beginning to touch up his hair and his chest fluff. “Who’dya mean, Val?”

Long, cold fingers came to rest on Angel’s shoulders, practically burning through the thin material of his silk robe. Valentino leaned down until his head was level with Angel’s, and he exhaled a thin stream of pinkish smoke, the scent rich and heady as always. Immediately, Angel felt dizzy, and he drew a shaken breath as he met Valentino’s eyes in the mirror.

“Surely you didn’t think I wouldn’t notice?” Valentino purred, one of his free hands touching Angel’s cheek and stroking gently along the line of his jaw up towards his cheek. Angel’s eyes fluttered as he resisted closing them or jerking away, his breath stuttering briefly as he remembered the last time those claws had been so close to one of his eyes. “It’s always been such a ghastly flaw in your otherwise impeccable appearance. And now, to see it so… garish? How could I not notice my precious araña had been marred?”

Angel made himself smile a little. “I wasn’t hidin’ it, Val,” he said, keeping his tone flirtatious and his demeanor relaxed. He’d only been able to come up with one possible excuse that his boss might buy, and even then, it relied on Valentino wanting to believe it. “If you’re askin’ me who activated it, I couldn’t tell ya. Happened when I went clubbin’ the other night and I guess I bumped into somebody. Didn’t really care enough to find out.”

“Hmm…” Valentino kept watching him in the mirror as Angel resumed his primping, silently pleading with the moth to take the excuse and leave. Finally, Angel saw the other sinner smile.

It was not a good smile.

“Bullshit.”

That was Angel’s only warning before Valentino grabbed him and tore him from the vanity bench, throwing him across the room and into the glass coffee table that sat in front of his comfy pink couch. Angel went straight through the table top, which burst around him in a horrific shattering scream and immediately tore through his robe and his flesh. Angel gasped, the pain that flooded his body only vaguely dulled by the fact that Val had done it at all.

Valentino was violent. Angel had known that since they were first getting acquainted. But he never, never hurt Angel badly enough to make him bleed before a shoot. It was too hard to cover up with makeup, he said. No, bruises were made to be given before a shoot, but breaks and lacerations were made to be given after.

Angel couldn’t speak as Valentino hauled him up out of the pit of shattered glass and splintering wood, holding him by the front of his robe and leaving him to dangle helplessly as the fabric tightened around his throat. “You ungrateful little bitch,” Valentino spat, his eyes narrowing dangerously behind the lenses of his sunglasses. “After everything I have done for you, this is how you repay me? You cheating whore!” he shouted, throwing Angel into the wall over the couch. The spider demon hit the wall with a heavy thud and fell onto the cushions, his momentum so great that he bounced off of them and right back onto the glass-covered floor.

Gasping with pain, Angel peered up at the other sinner, trying to push himself up onto his hands and only managing to dig shards of glass into his palms. “V-Val, I’m sorry…!” The tears that fell from his eyes stung the open cut on his cheek. “I didn’t mean… I swear, I didn’t mean for it to happen!”

Valentino’s face was cast in shadow as he stood over Angel’s prone body, his lip curled in a snarl and his fists clenched. “Fix it.”

Angel shook his head. “…wh…what…?”

“Fix. It,” Valentino repeated sharply. “You have a month. After that, I will take care of it myself.” He turned, sweeping towards the door. “We’re working your blood into the shoot. Get up and get out here.”

Angel’s breath came out in a quiet sob as his boss slammed the door behind him, and he managed to roll off of the glass and shove himself onto his knees. He didn’t have time to do real damage assessment, but he did his best to quickly pick shards of glass out of his hands and what of his back he could reach before he staggered to his feet and hurried along behind Valentino.

The shoot was one of the worst he had ever endured. Angel’s state seemed to shock the entire studio, but under Valentino’s watchful eye, no one said anything; even Travis seemed to think it was excessive, but after a long beat, he simply called for places. The scripted scenario had been scrapped in favor of something improvised to match Angel’s injuries, which meant none of his coworkers were allowed to avoid them and more than one of them ripped open and bled on the floor. He even accidentally cut Rocky open with a shard of glass he hadn’t managed to remove, but to the big oaf’s credit, he didn’t say anything. They all knew what Val would do if anything interrupted filming while he was in such a mood.

After only one round of filming, Angel felt numb. He was aware of someone saying something to him, but he couldn’t make himself parse the words, much less respond. A hand grabbed him roughly by the forearm, hauling him to his feet, and Angel’s brain struggled to connect to his surroundings as he was pulled out a door and down a hallway. He realized it was Val at the same time as another door opened and Angel was thrown in, landing hard on a plush carpet that smelled like smoke this close.

“What do you want?” Val asked, and Angel tried to figure out how to answer such a strange question.

“What do you think?”

…a strange question that, it seemed, wasn’t for him.

Angel managed to raise his head enough to register that he was lying on the floor of Valentino’s office, and a short distance in front of him, he could see very well-polished black and electric blue spats.

“I am handling this,” Valentino said.

“Oh, no, that isn’t what I would call this.” Angel watched, perplexed, as Vox took one of his hands and pulled him to his feet, then set him down in one of the chairs near Valentino’s desk. Vox didn’t bother addressing Angel, however, only giving him the focus required to move him before he turned back to Valentino. “I would call this throwing one of your fits.”

“Shut the fuck up,” Valentino snarled. “He is my property and I will do what I like with him.”

“…within reason,” Vox amended. “Val, I don’t know how many times I have to tell you this. What you do inside the studio is your business. The moment you drag it out into the hallways, it becomes public, and therefore, it is the company’s business. And the company is not in the habit of parading around very expensive and very bloody whores while behaving like a jilted lover who just caught their wife with the milkman. I will not have it. Am I clear?”

Valentino was so angry he was shaking. He didn’t argue; he didn’t say anything at all.

Vox seemed to take that well. “Good!” he said brightly, and Angel heard the applause of a studio audience somewhere. Vox stepped forward and began physically guiding Valentino out of his own office with a hand on the small of his back. “Now, you let me take care of this and get back to the studio.”

“But—”

“Go, Val, I won’t damage your investment.”

Angel was shocked to see that Valentino listened, though he did slam the door again to get his point across. Angel looked from the door to Vox’s back, and he heard the CEO make some kind of disgruntled noise before he turned enough to cast his eyes down to Angel. “So,” Vox began, his voice cold and his smile no longer in place. “I hear you have an activated soul mark.”

Angel cringed and looked away. “…word travels fast.”

“Mm.” Vox went to the desk and opened a box Angel hadn’t noticed before. It looked like a first aid kit. He slid it over to Angel expectantly, and after a moment of hesitation, Angel began retrieving material to clean and bandage the wounds he could reach. “You knew this would happen eventually.”

“It’s not my fault,” Angel said, his protest weak. “It ain’t like I wanted to find ‘em.”

Vox sat in the chair across from him, looking him over critically. Angel knew that Vox didn’t like him—that wasn’t exactly a big secret, since Vox had never tried to hide it and Angel had never seen a reason to attempt to ingratiate himself to the television-headed demon—but he also knew that Vox was the most even-tempered of the Vees as long as Alastor wasn’t a factor, which frequently made him the easiest to deal with. “But you did. Now what?”

“Whaddya mean?” Angel asked, sucking in a breath through his teeth at the sting of antiseptic in his palm.

“I can at least gather you didn’t try to use this to beg your way out of your contract, since you don’t seem to have any broken bones,” Vox observed. Angel almost laughed. “What do you plan to do about it?”

“Nothin’,” Angel said. “Ain’t nothin’ I can do.”

Vox made a noise like a soft and thoughtful hum filtered through television static. “It wouldn’t be good for our brand,” he said. “Our premier porn star tied to a soulmate.”

“Look, whaddya expect me to do about it?” Angel asked, looking up at Vox again. “I already ain’t seein’ the guy, like, at all. I can’t get more far removed from him than I already am.”

Vox rolled his eyes. “You could sever it.”

Angel froze. “…sever?” he asked, his stomach flipping oddly.

“Yes. Sever,” Vox repeated, his smile returning and getting uncomfortably close to his public relations smile. “Now that you’ve found him, it’s possible to cut the connection. Your mark will disappear, Valentino will stop bitching, and your quality of life will doubtless improve greatly with him no longer worrying about it.”

Angel shook his head. “We don’t have a connection,” he said. Vox’s eyebrow lifted. “I mean, I know, there— there’s that,” Angel said, gesturing roughly at his leg, “but we ain’t got anythin’ else. There’s nothin’ to cut, how the fuck am I supposed to sever what doesn’t exist?”

“Well, frequently, death,” Vox said. “The exorcists have gotten many a sinner out of an undesirable soulmate bond. But… well, unless you have an angelic weapon and want to kill him yourself, I don’t think Val will wait for the next extermination.”

“So… what, then?”

“From what I hear?” Vox smiled again. “Heartbreak.”

Angel stared at him for several seconds before he started laughing. “Oh, you gotta be fuckin’ kidding me,” he cackled. “I already told you, there ain’t nothin’ there.” As Angel’s mirth died down, he realized Vox was still smiling. “…Vox, look, I want this gone, too. But that ain’t gonna work.”

“Then I suppose you’ll have to find something else.” Vox got to his feet and walked around behind Angel. The spider jumped when he realized that Vox was… treating the injuries on his back. It felt dangerous. It felt like a threat. I can hurt you so easily, and there would be nothing you could do to defend yourself. “I recommend you find something quickly.”

Angel swallowed. “What if I can’t?”

“Then it becomes a company problem.” Angel could clearly hear the smile in Vox’s voice. “And you can always trust VoxTek to deal with its problems.”

•••

By the time Angel arrived at the hotel again, it was late, so late that even Husk had gone to bed. Honestly, Angel didn’t mind it quite so much, since it gave him a full night of recovery before he saw anyone else and got more of their fucking questions.

He decided he did, at least, owe Husk when he saw a small bottle of malt liquor had been left unlocked behind the bar; Husk wouldn’t admit it was because he knew Angel always needed a drink after work, but he did. Angel almost smiled as he picked it up and carried it over to the private lounge that sat off the main lobby, because if he was caught with a liquor bottle in his room it would mean ‘a good talking-to’ and he wasn’t in the mood to put up with it. The door wasn’t locked, but he had barely taken a step inside when he realized that the room wasn’t empty. There was no one else inside, not that he could see, but there was a fire going and jazz playing on the radio.

Alastor.

“Sorry,” Angel said to the room at large, wondering if Alastor had gotten spooked by the door suddenly opening. “Didn’t know anyone was in here.”

Angel turned to go, but the moment he did, a shadowy figure manifested on the wall and placed its hand on the door to close it.

“Angel Dust. Wait.”

The shadow vanished, and Angel watched it go before he turned back into the room. Alastor was standing beside the high-backed armchair he seemed to favor, his attire as neat and proper as ever and both of his hands on his microphone as it stood in front of him. The only clue Angel had to his demeanor was his smile, which was… off, in a way Angel couldn’t describe. Instead of trying, Angel adopted as casual a pose as he could and shrugged at him. “Whaddya want, Smiles?”

Alastor didn’t answer immediately, which was strange, because the Radio Demon was never at a loss for words. Finally, he said, “You’re injured.”

“…yep,” Angel said slowly. “Well spotted. That what you wanted?”

“No,” Alastor said, and Angel almost felt himself flinch. Oddly, Alastor almost seemed to hesitate. “You don’t have to leave, my good man, it is hardly polite for me to toss you out of the hotel’s public spaces.”

Angel frowned a little. There was something Alastor wasn’t saying, but fucked if Angel knew what it was. “…kay.” Alastor just watched him as he padded over to the nearest couch and then tipped forward over the arm, face planting into the cushions. There was still so much pain, but just being horizontal was a relief. Angel reveled in the feeling before he turned his head enough to look at Alastor. “Are you just gonna stand there? It’s fuckin’ creepy.”

Alastor shrugged, then vanished into his shadow, re-emerging sitting in his chair a scant half foot away.

Angel almost laughed. “Dramatic bitch. Do you ever walk anywhere?”

“Why commit myself to such a mundane form of transportation when I possess something so much more efficient? And I’ve been given to understand it’s quite unsettling.”

“Uh-huh.” Angel pushed himself up enough to roll over onto his back, settling into the cushions with a contented sigh. He uncorked the bottle and took a pull from it, cringing at the terrible flavor and the burn, then repeated the process. He lowered the bottle, saw Alastor was watching him, and offered it out. “Want some? It’s gross.”

The corner of Alastor’s lip curled just slightly as he looked at the liquor. “Not a compelling sales pitch.”

“Usually, free doesn’t require a pitch.” Angel took it back anyway, putting one arm behind his head and looking at the ceiling.

“You aren’t usually this injured after your… work,” Alastor observed.

“You’re still on that?”

“Simply curious. I don’t exactly have a handle on how the industry works.”

Angel looked at him. “And you’re, what, interested?”

Alastor’s smile widened a little. “I wasn’t, but if it’s as bloody as it now appears, I might be.”

It took effort for Angel not to smile at that, rolling his eyes and looking at the ceiling. “Val was pissed off. We worked the bleeding into the shoot, but it ain’t typical.”

“I see.” Alastor sounded thoughtful. “What a scandal, one of the Vees lashing out so blatantly. Hardy in line with their image of perfection.”

Angel smiled and turned his head again. “You can always be baited with gossip, can’tcha, Smiles?”

“Good gossip,” Alastor corrected, one finger raised. “So much of it is so… tedious and uninteresting. Overly complicated romantic entanglements seem to be everyone’s absolute favorite,” he added with a sneer, waving one hand dismissively and rolling his eyes.

“Seems like everyone’s got a badly written love story in ‘em,” Angel said with a shrug.

“Hardly.” Alastor sounded more than just dismissive now, he sounded outright disdainful. Immediately, his tone shifted to something brighter. “So! Do tell, what could possibly have gotten the little bug so terribly worked up as to potentially damage his boss’s reputation so?” Angel’s smile slipped and he raised an eyebrow at Alastor. He watched the Radio Demon tip his head, his eyes narrowing, before they flicked to the side and landed on— “Ah,” Alastor said, his smile growing strained. “…yes. That. …no, I imagine he would be quite displeased, wouldn’t he?”

“Understatement.” Angel sighed and closed his eyes, raising one hand to rub his fingers along where the bridge of his nose had been. “He and Vox are on my fuckin’ case about it.”

Nearby, the music on the radio stuttered, and Angel heard the briefest burst of microphone static before the sounds continued as though nothing had happened. “You spoke with Vox?” Alastor asked, his voice almost overly casual.

“Yeah. I mean, he’s kinda my boss’s boss, we talk sometimes,” Angel said, casting Alastor a look.

“And the two of them are in agreement. How odd!” Alastor said brightly. “What could they possibly want you to do?”

“Apparently, you can sever a soulmate connection. Didja know that?”

Alastor hummed, looking thoughtful. “I will admit, there is something of a gap in my education when it comes to what they call ‘matters of the heart’. The idea of soulmates held very little interest for me, I’m afraid.”

Angel snorted. “You weren’t just champin’ at the bit to find your government issued significant other?”

When Alastor laughed, the canned radio audience laughed with him. “I had every mind to simply destroy mine, should I ever find them, and I gave very little thought to it outside of that.”

“So… what, you’re plannin’ on killin’ me?”

“Don’t be silly, dear fellow, Miss Charlie would be positively livid if I so dramatically decreased our tenant population due to an emotional inconvenience. Besides, I’m given to understand Niffty has formed something of an attachment to you, and one cannot go around upsetting Niffty.”

“No, one can’t,” Angel agreed.

“So, then, what other options lie before us?” Alastor asked. “I presume you were given an ultimatum.”

“Yeah. Take care of it or they would.” Angel sighed. “Only other way they told me a connection could be severed was heartbreak.”

It felt strange, saying that out loud here. It had seemed so ridiculous when Vox had said it, but now, it felt weirdly… heavy. Angel didn’t like the way it made him nauseous, either, and he took a drink to give himself something else unpleasant to concentrate on. The worst part, however, was Alastor’s reaction… or lack thereof. He seemed to be processing Angel’s words, but what part he was stuck on, Angel couldn’t imagine.

“That implies we are in love, doesn’t it,” Alastor said thoughtfully. He didn’t sound like he felt any particular way about the statement.

“It does.”

“But we aren’t.”

“I’m aware of that, Alastor,” Angel said, tossing a small pillow at the Radio Demon. It vanished before it touched him and dropped out of the ceiling, landing on Angel’s face. “Hey!”

“So, then, how does one go about breaking a heart that is not invested in the first place?” Alastor asked, as though nothing had happened. “Seems that it would be much more simple if the connection realized I didn’t care and severed itself.”

“Nothin’ is simple in Hell.” Angel let the bottle rest on the ground, staring at the ceiling. “Look, I don’t got any more idea about this shit than you. I never had any intention of findin’ my soulmate. I don’t do relationships.”

The static in the air was the distinctive sound Alastor made when he was attempting to process information that went against whatever he had learned about normal human behavior. “…but you are quite promiscuous.”

“Yeah, and?”

“Is that not a relationship?”

Angel snorted. “No. Fuckin’ is fuckin’, Al. A relationship is like… they had the concept of dates and goin’ steady in whatever outer dimension you were raised in, didn’t they?”

“Ah, of course,” Alastor said. “So you disconnect the idea of physical intimacy and emotional intimacy.”

“…yeah,” Angel said, squinting at Alastor, who looked genuinely fascinated. “What, did you really think I had some kinda deep emotional connection with everybody I bang?”

“Admittedly, I know very little about this subject by choice, but I suppose that made sense at the time. I didn’t think much about it.”

Angel shook his head, laughing a little. “Fuck’s sake, Smiles. You’re ridiculous.” Alastor squinted, the radio noises growing a little perplexed. Angel didn’t let him ask. “I ain’t never been in a relationship. It ain’t my bag. I’m guessing you ain’t either.”

“Of course not,” Alastor said, like it was obvious and Angel was an idiot for even asking. “I dislike casual physical contact and can’t fathom the point of seeking out more. I have never once found myself interested in any person in such a capacity.”

Angel thought about that for a second, then sat up on his elbows. “Wait, you’re ace?”

“There’s that word again,” Alastor muttered to himself. “I have no idea what that means, my good man!”

“Ace,” Angel said. “Like… asexual.”

Alastor stared at him. “…I don’t think I can reproduce on my own, no.” He then laughed. “Heaven help the other sinners if I ever discover I can undergo mitosis! An entire hoard of Radio Demons. Our benevolent king will be positively beside himself.”

“No no no,” Angel said, laughing too. “Asexual means, like… you ain’t got no interest in sex.”

“Oh, is there a word for it?” Alastor seemed interested once again. “How fascinating.”

“Huh.” Angel moved enough to settle himself against the arm of the couch. “That explains… so much. Okay, so, how d’ya wanna do this?”

“Do what?” Alastor asked, and it looked like he was returning to the conversation from a completely disconnected train of thought. “Oh! Yes, the soul mark issue. I do believe I have an idea, if you would be willing to entertain it. Are you free tomorrow?”

“Uh… yeah,” Angel said suspiciously. “Why?”

“Well, then, you and I shall have an outing tomorrow. There is a very dear friend of mine who knows just about everything there is to know about matters of romance. If anyone would know what would sever a connection, it would be her.”

Angel stared at Alastor. He looked so damn proud of his idea, and… Angel almost thought he looked excited about the idea of going out somewhere with someone else. It was almost— Angel mentally stabbed the word ‘cute’ before it could attach itself to Alastor of all fucking people. “Okay,” he said, after a moment. “Tomorrow, then. What, uh, what should I wear?”

“Oh, anything you have that would be considered stylish will do,” Alastor said. “She has a great love of fashion, something you two seem to have in common. She does love her tea, so shall we convene in the lobby at, say, half past three?”

Angel shrugged. “Sure. Sounds great, Smiles.”

“It’s a date, then,” Alastor said. He was suddenly on his feet, and Angel wasn’t sure when that had happened. “Sleep well. You will need the rest.” And, with that ominous warning and a widening smile, Alastor vanished into the shadows.

Angel watched him go, then finished the bottle of liquor all at once. This felt like a mistake, and he didn’t want to know what part of it he was going to regret.

[felice-jaganshi]

Strawberry Scented Love

Radiodust Strawberry Pimp AU

Chapter 7 - Courage and Cowardice

Angel tucked Alastor into his bed, smiling at his sleep form. He then realized what he was doing and shook his head, “Agh, stop that ya dummy…” Fat Nuggets then nuzzled his ankle. Angel smiled and scooped him up in his lower arms, “Not you, baby, you're fine. I'm the dummy.” He then went to the mirror and started to take off his make up.

“Come on Angel, he's a fuckin overlord. You already did this song and dance, no repeat performances!” He got up from his vanity and made his way to his doorway, “If there's a prize for rotten judgment, I guess I've already won that…” He shut his door, standing in the hall. “No man is worth the aggravation. It's ancient history, been there done that!”

Another voice came from his otherside, singing at him, “He'sss the earth and heaven to you!” It was Pentious! He and Nifty were flanking him as he tried to walk away.

Nifty popped out behind him suddenly, “Who ya think you're kidding!?” Angel yelped and jumped, holding Nugs even closer. “What th- Nif!”

“Try to keep it hidden, Angel we can see right through you! Boy you can't conceal it, we know how you're feeling, who you're thinking of.”

Angel growled and turned around, sweeping an arm dramatically. “NO CHANCE! No way! I won't say it no, no!” 

Pen put a hand on his shoulder, “You ssswoon, you sssigh, why deny it?”

He shoved Pen's hand off him, blushing, “It's too cliche! I won't say I'm in love!” He marched down the hall, and they both looked sad at each other before following him to the lobby. 

“I thought my heart had learned its lesson…” He looked at the bar where they'd been enjoying eachothers company just a bit ago. “It feels so good when ya start out.” Tears welled up in his eyes, “My head is screaming ‘Get a grip, man!’ unless you're dying to cry your heart out!”

 

Suddenly the front door was kicked open and a pissed looking Cherri marched in.

“You keep on denying who you are and how ya feelin’, but baby I'm not buyin’, hun I saw ya hit the ceiling!” She took both his shoulders in her hands, “Face it like a grown up, when ya gonna own up that ya got it bad?!”

He pushed her arms away, “Get off my case! I won't say it!” He looked angry, but she knew better, he was just scared.

“Ange, don't be proud, it's okay, you're in love…” She smiled softly and hugged him tight. He rest his chin on her shoulder as she dragged him down to her level.

“At least out loud… I won't say it.”

 ~~~~~~~~

After an hour, Alastor woke up with a sigh looking at his surroundings and taking everything in. Angel's room? Angel's bed… Alastor's clothes?! Ok, stupid question, Angel would never. Well, he could imagine Angel being curious what he looked like underneath everything… He made that curiosity abundantly clear when he first arrived at the hotel.

“Shadow.” The second he called, it appeared next to him. “Thank you for sedating me, I was running my mouth again. For all my chastising of you, it's ironic that I'm the one who almost blew the entire thing… We'll need to be extra careful now…” He took the picture of Angel out of his jacket again and kissed it softly. “I'll show you, Beloved… that you can trust me. That I can be patient till you're ready… That I truly love you.”

 ~~~~~~

Months went by without incident, Alastor slowly but surely earning Angel's affections and trust, to the point of occasional rough housing. Like today.

Angel had Alastor's larger and usual antlers in his upper arms, trying to hold Alastor back, laughing and using his lower arms to try and swat Alastor's hands away. “No! I'm winning this time, fucker!” 

Alastor chuckled, “You're lucky we agreed no magic this round or my tentacles would have you writhing on the ground.” His tone had a hunger in it that made Angel's grip falter and his face go red. Alastor took advantage of the shock, shrinking his antlers and surging forward, knocking Angel to the ground and pinning him. He cushioned Angel's head with his own hand before he began tickling his sides.

“Gah! Ch-cheat! Haha! Fuck!” He tried to tickle him back only for Al hold two wrists in each hand, pinning his legs with his own. 

“Oh, a cheat am I? Your extra limbs would make you a cheater too, but you don't hear me crying foul.” Suddenly Angel's third pair of arms came out, startling Alastor as they began tickling him, “A-ah! Now you are a cheat!” He laughed, and tried to think of a way to fight back, but it was too late! Angel flipped their positions and Alastor was at his mercy!

“Haha! No, Darling, Beloved! Please, have mercy! Release me, demon!” He tried everything he could think of, but Angel wasn't letting up.

“Nope, promise to buy me new earrings! And a watch!”

“H-how about- haha- dinner?!”

That made Angel pause and tilt his head, “Dinner where?” 

“There's that new branch of Ozzie's that just opened up here in the pride ring. I'd like to take you there.” He had his typical grin on, but his eyes were wide and sparkling, like he had something exciting planned.

“You buyin?” He raised an eyebrow. 

“Of course! I'm the one asking you out.” He let go of the arms on Angel's left side to place the hand instead on his waist, as he'd become comfortable doing lately. “It would only be polite.”

“Such a gentleman ta little ol’ me? Well, how could I say no.” He smiled and sat up before moving off of Alastor. “I just gotta cancel on a client then, I'll tell him my big boss needs me for an important business meeting .” He winked and gave Alastor a kissy face before pulling out his phone and typing away. He didn't see Alastor's tail flickering away excitedly…

 ~~~~~~~

Alastor dressed in a black suit with a burgundy undershirt and a matching tie, his hair was partially tied back in a ponytail. He waited for Angel at the entrance to the hotel. Charlie noticed and came over, “Wow Al! You look amazing! Why the new suit?”

“Ah, hello dear! Just waiting for Angel, I'm taking him out to that new fancy restaurant that opened up.” He smiled brightly the entire time he spoke, and Charlie couldn't help but gasp!

“Oh my god, on a date?!” Her eyes were sparkling, and he chuckled at her enthusiasm.

“Shh, it's a secret dear. He doesn't know it yet. I'm going to ask him to go steady with me tonight, you will wish me luck, won't you?”

She squealed, “Of course! Oh I hope he says yes! You two would be so cute together!” Alastor suddenly looked at the staircase, ears perking up. Charlie looked over to see what caught his attention. “Oh… wow.”

Angel was descending the stairs, dressed in a deep ruby suit. He made his way down to mee Alastor and smiled, “What, no flowers?” 

Alastor blushed, “Ah, I thought they'd be a bit too cliche. But I did get you a new set of earrings, like you asked for this morning. I know you were just playing, but I couldn't help but think of you when I saw them.” He opened a jewelry box and showed him a pair of ruby earrings that perfectly matched the suit. 

“Damn, Smiles… You really know how to treat a man…” He accepted the earrings and put them on. “How do I look?” He tilted his head to the side.

Alastor took one of his hands, “You don't know? Why, you're the epitome of beauty, my dear. A true Venus in Red this evening.”

Charlie gushed off to the side and Angel looked over, “Hey princess, what's up?”

“I've never seen you dress so masculine Angel! It looks nice.” She tried to hide the real reason for her gushing.

“Oh, yeah. I don't do it often. But I wanted to try something new today.” He smiled softly and took Al's arm, “Don't we make a cute pair?”

Charlie looked at the two fondly, “Yeah, you really do… I'm glad you found someone who treats you so well Angel, you deserve it.”

“Well, she should get going or we'll be late to our reservation.” Alastor spoke up quickly and dragged Angel outside, before Charlie could ruin the surprise.

 ~~~~~~

After the dinner, Alastor brought Angel to the roof of the hotel and played some slow music from his cane that he left off to the side, “Angel, will you dance with me?”

Angel took his hand and let himself be pulled into Alastor's embrace, “You really went all out for this, huh Smiles? Going through all the motions… you're a good friend, making a silly thing like me feel special for a night.” He smiled at Alastor with half lidded eyes. 

“You should feel special every night, Angel. Because you are.” He gave Angel the same look back, and it startled the spider.

“Y-you think so?” 

“Of course, I actually have another gift for you tonight that I hope will help you believe me… but first, I wish to ask you something important.” Alastor stopped dancing, and kneeled down before Angel, taking each of his lower hands into his own. He brought them both to his face and kissed the back of each of them once.

“A-al, what are you doing? If ya wanna ask me to sleep with ya, you don't gotta get so fancy.” Angel couldn't stop his voice from cracking, there's no way this was happening, this had to be a dream!

“Angel… I wish for you to be my Beau. My partner in all things. I love-” but before he could finish, Angel tore his hands away and took several steps backwards. His upper hands covering his mouth and his lower ones wrapping his waist. 

“St-stop, don't- don't say that. Please!”

Alastor's ears drooped and his smile faltered into a nervous line, “Angel, darling, what's wrong? Why are you… I thought…”

“What, you thought I'd be a sucker and make the same mistake twice? No, I'm sorry Al, but I'm not doing this. I can't- this is- you own my soul okay?! If shit goes south, I won't be able to leave you! I'll be trapped again.” He started sobbing and his knees were shaking. 

“But Angel, I‐” He felt his words turn bitter in his throat. “I see… I failed then. I couldn't convince you my feelings are real.” He stood and approached Angel, summoning a golden scroll into his hand. He firmly took one of Angel's hands from his mouth, horrified to see him crying. Ashamed it was because of himself. He placed the scroll in Angel's hands, and shut his fingers around it.

“Here is your present, mon amour… I give you your freedom.” He then let go of Angel and walked away, his Shadow frowning and wiping away a tear from the pink demon's cheek before following Alastor and the two melted into the darkness of the night.

[cornix-the-void-crow]

Here is updated colour design for RHD au Alastor. He became very purple

And here are notes on his design!

The reason why he became more purple is because contracts cause demons to shift their forms under influence of owner of their soul. Therefore Velvette's purple affected/infected Alastor's red and magenta (?) of his hair.

I am of the opinion that powerful demons and overlords can afford to wear less practical for their demonic traits clothing because they can defend themselves just fine without using everything in their arsenal. Other demographic that would wear impractical clothes are those under protection of powerful demons and expectation to look specific way, like actors and models. Average demon cannot afford that luxury, and so have to adapt their clothes to their demonic traits. Therefore, no shoes for Alastor, because he is no longer an overlord and has to use more things to his advantage. He has leg wrap things though.

Alastor, without his intimidation, is really pretty and cute, let's be honest. In fact, this prettiness and cuteness is what caused Velvette to essentially snatch him under Vox's non-existent nose. Because of that, Alastor can't hide his more cute aspects of his appearance, like his tail.

Even worse, under contract's influence, new cute traits started to appear, like fawn spot-like freckles.

The hair was cause of a lot of yelling, after Velvette learned that he has been straightening it almost every day for over 80 years.

High-waisted swing pants and bishop sleeves on Alastor is my favourite type of look, that would be the truth. In lore though, there is some gender fuckery that's going on with Alastor, because he quite literally wears what women wore (if they were to wear pants that were not workwear) in 1920s and 1930s.

The bowtie is actually ascot tie, tied in what is called a strawberry knot. It also has a little deer head tie pin.

Cane is a fashion accessory, but microphone is a conduit of power that is no longer Alastor's. So his microphone was morphed into a cane.

His eyesight was actually aided by his powers, and now, with most of the powers gone, he actually needs prescription glasses. They sit on his nose and have beaded chain looping around his neck, as to not lose them.

Make up is part of being a model, and while the make up stylist that works with Alastor on set is fine with being occasionally eaten, Alastor kinda developed a habit of doing some of make up himself, just to avoid unnecessary touches from others. (And here is where the vintage vanity compacts rabbit hole started)

The ponytail is stylish, and hair bow is cute, that's just it

You would ask, how can Alastor be a model if he cannot appear on camera? Well, he probably can appear on film photographs, shown by that photo with Vox. Therefore the modelling photoshoot would be made initially using early 20th century film cameras, which would be then digitised and posted on the Internet. Polaroids work too, weirdly enough, but not the modern ones that are more digitised

[echantedtoon]

Charlastor Week Day 2

Day 2 (3-2): Human Au

*My own Au which is different from other's. SO- Human Au where Charlie is (the human) a singer in the 1990's fighting for her dreams of becoming a professional singer and fights for equal treatment in her workplace despite her parents' own believes, and AL(the demon) takes a liking to her.*

The long night had finally come to a close for the dancer as she casually made her way back to her dressing room. It had been quite tiring dealing with all of tonight's drunken idiots and their advances thrown at her. But.......she could at least relax now that all her 'fans' were left behind. Or so she thought. She was almost to her room when a small feeling in her gut got her attention. She stopped before looking back........No one but the other staff members were there and they were doing other things. She shrugged it off, but the feeling never went away. She eventually got to said dressing room and on contact, flung open the door and slammed it behind her. She sighed and leaned against the door. She stayed like that for a moment before kicking off her shoes and pushing herself off the doorway. Her body was stiff and sore from all that dancing and singing she had done. What she needed was a good drink. Walking across the room, she stopped in front of a small cabinet. Opening it, she looked at all the selections available......before picking one from the very back. She failed to notice the red eyes in the mirror behind her.

Sitting back up, she carefully placed a wine glass and the bottle on top of the cabinet.

"Gin. Nice choice."

She yelped and whirled around. In the process, knocking over the glass and bottle. A crash was heard followed by shattered glass and spilt wine. On instinct, she leaped back from the mess and looked at it.....before looking at the direction were the voice came from. And froze.In the shadows, leaning against her vanity, was a tall figure staring back at her. He was much taller than her and wore what looked like a red suit. His red eyes stared back at her like a wild cat sizing up it's prey. She couldn't tell which was more creepy......That smile or his eyes.

"Who are you?"

he smiled wider (if that was even possible) and leaned into the light. She got a better glimpse at him. "How rude of me. Allow me to introduce myself." He walked with a slight sashay until he stood directly in front of her. He gave a slight bow before extending a hand. "My name is Alastor and you are Ms. Charlotte I presume."

"Y-Yes. What are you doing in my dressing room? I specifically said I don't do meet ups. Of any kind."

He stared at her. "I've been watching a few of your shows and I must say......your voice is very radio worthy.~"

She stared up at him completely confused. "........Well, thank you, Sir. B-B-But Im afraid flattery will get you no where here."

"Mmm. A tough personality. Admirable."

She crossed her arms and gave him a frown. "Look. If you're here to just butter me up-" She pointed at the door. "-then please just get out. I have nothing to give you and you have nothing to gain from me."

He paused......before chuckling? She now stared completely bewildered at this possibly crazy man. This was starting to get too weird for her liking.

"I assure you, I want nothing you have. Nor am I here to dote flattery upon you."

"...Then what ARE you here for? Last time I checked, it wasn't very gentleman like to sneak into a lady's dressing room."

Without warning, he suddenly leaned down eye level causing her to back. His wild expression causing more uneasiness. "I simply wished to give you something."

It was hard to gulp down the lump in her throat before saying, ''W-What?"

A sudden sweet smell hit her before something red was pressed into her hand. Blinking, she looked down at the object in her hand.".......A rose?"

"Take it as a token of my admiration~ Do enjoy the fine gin you left out."

"But it was-" She turned around, but froze at the site before her.

The glass and wine bottle was still there.....only.....They weren't broken. No glass on the ground. No wine spilt....It was just.....Like it never happened.

"-Broken......How did you-?"

She froze again when she was met with an empty room. She looked around for any possible way he could've left, but found none. She stared a little longer before looking at the fixed glass, then at the flower in her hand. The only possible things that proved he was even there.

"......I think...I need that drink now."

[lustful-bendy]

posted a vanity because she hasn’t been here a good while, honestly i’ve been down in the dumps and drawing her makes me feel better, hope you guys enjoy 

[limetimo]

RAB fics I read (11-17Jul)

To Remember by Grey_Kenaz Regulus tries to tell the Aurors about the Horcrux but gets shipped straight to Azkaban where he proceeds to lose his sanity. After several months Sirius manages to get him free and take him home. Can Regulus recover enough to remember life beyond his nightmares and help end the war?

Regulus Rising by DogStar234 Regulus dies, and Regulus wakes up in a dead muggle's body (with his memories and magic intact). What's a 60s kid to do in the 90s? Hunt Horcruxes, Attend Hogwarts and get himself a boyfriend of course!

Black Lion by Johnnyfer Post-cave Regulus finds and adopts Harry (not that he'd ever admit to ever liking the 7yo son of his school annoyance). Prideful Regulus my beloveds

set those ghosts alight by justwhatialwayswanted I am in love with this one, one of few Gryffindor Regulus fics that hit me just right

Rise like a phoenix by pearlAngel Regulus reincarnates as Harry

Haunting Horcruxes by FiresFromOurHearts Regulus reincarnated as Draco finds the Diary at the Manor

Diptych by pansysnarkinson 15yo Regulus is gifted the Diary by Malfoy, very LotR vibes

when you were mine by battlehamster Jegulus getting back together, modern no magic

Shift Change by elder_millennial_trash for fuckboyregulus HOckey au James is annoying and Regulus is annoyed but secretly they really like each other

Black flies by AllLivesMatter This. Is. So. Good. Before and after the cave and the Black brothers through the years

A World of Remarkability by green_tea43 I'm really really curious where this goes, Peter Pettigrew is a foster kid who figured out he's magical, and bumped into little REgulus BLack on a playground one time

Of Second Chances and Unfamiliar Paths by Mozaik Regulus gets yeeted to is first year very good but discontinued for now

Auror Academy - the class of 1979 by Regulus_Potter I'm still not over little Regulus trailing after Alastor Moody and taking the "CONSTANT VIGILANCE!" nad "Trust no-one!" advices to hearrt ♥♥

It was rare, I was there, I remember it by im_still_tryin_to_find_it 25yo Regulus had a potion accident and thinks he's 16. kinda inconvenient when he's married to James Potter and they have a kid together

find a heart and break it by Keysie ayo Sirius' POV on one of the worst fights in the "Regulus and Remus are little shits and horcrux hunting" story

The Missing Link by Keysie the marauders are trying to somehow deal in the aftermath of Peter's betrayal

rewrite my heart (let the future in) by secretpersona ace emma vanity with an eyepatch my beloved it has nothing to do with the plot (which is aces!) but it's the only thing I can think of the last couple chapters

Art Heist, Baby! by otrtbs be gay do crime!

A Little Bit of Everything by Frenchroast99 Regulus adopts Harry, the Black family becomes a Family again

The Marauders and the Prisoner of Azkaban by SilverShadow1 the marauders and regulus and lily are reading the poa i expect angst

For Shits and Giggles by silverfield after sirius run away regulus suddenly developed every digestive disorder ever. His body can't kill him if he kills himself first is not his thought process but it's not far off. His friends and brother have a different idea

Gentle hands by Bunny17 D/s universe gentle dom Remus doms Sirius and James and also Regulus once

Perfect Places by wtfmylove REgulus and James are forced to work together. It's fuck or fight everyone

Missing by mean_whale big sad, Remus/regulus

[hazbinextgeneration]

Hellaverse Rarepair Week Day 5: Human/Au

Alastor x Mimzy

*My own Au which is different from other's. SO- Human Au where Mimzy is (the human) a singer in the 1990's fighting for her dreams of becoming a professional singer and fights for equal treatment in her workplace despite her parents' own believes, and AL(the demon) takes a liking to her.*

The long night had finally come to a close for the dancer as she casually made her way back to her dressing room. It had been quite tiring dealing with all of tonight's drunken idiots and their advances thrown at her. But.......she could at least relax now that all her 'fans' were left behind. Or so she thought. She was almost to her room when a small feeling in her gut got her attention. She stopped before looking back........No one but the other staff members were there and they were doing other things. She shrugged it off, but the feeling never went away. She eventually got to said dressing room and on contact, flung open the door and slammed it behind her. She sighed and leaned against the door. She stayed like that for a moment before kicking off her shoes and pushing herself off the doorway. Her body was stiff and sore from all that dancing and singing she had done. What she needed was a good drink. Walking across the room, she stopped in front of a small cabinet. Opening it, she looked at all the selections available......before picking one from the very back. She failed to notice the red eyes in the mirror behind her.

Sitting back up, she carefully placed a wine glass and the bottle on top of the cabinet.

"Gin. Nice choice."

She yelped and whirled around. In the process, knocking over the glass and bottle. A crash was heard followed by shattered glass and spilt wine. On instinct, she leaped back from the mess and looked at it.....before looking at the direction were the voice came from. And froze.In the shadows, leaning against her vanity, was a tall figure staring back at her. He was much taller than her and wore what looked like a red suit. His red eyes stared back at her like a wild cat sizing up it's prey. She couldn't tell which was more creepy......That smile or his eyes.

"Who are you?"

he smiled wider (if that was even possible) and leaned into the light. She got a better glimpse at him. "How rude of me. Allow me to introduce myself." He walked with a slight sashay until he stood directly in front of her. He gave a slight bow before extending a hand. "My name is Alastor and you are Ms. Mimzy I presume."

"Y-Yes. What are you doing in my dressing room? I specifically said I don't do meet ups. Of any kind."

He stared at her. "I've been watching a few of your shows and I must say......your voice is very radio worthy.~"

She stared up at him completely confused. "........Well, thank you, Sir. B-B-But Im afraid flattery will get you no where here."

"Mmm. A tough personality. Admirable."

She crossed her arms and gave him a frown. "Look. If you're here to just butter me up-" She pointed at the door. "-then please just get out. I have nothing to give you and you have nothing to gain from me."

He paused......before chuckling? She now stared completely bewildered at this possibly crazy man. This was starting to get too weird for her liking.

"I assure you, I want nothing you have. Nor am I here to dote flattery upon you."

"...Then what ARE you here for? Last time I checked, it wasn't very gentleman like to sneak into a lady's dressing room."

Without warning, he suddenly leaned down eye level causing her to back. His wild expression causing more uneasiness. "I simply wished to give you something."

It was hard to gulp down the lump in her throat before saying, ''W-What?"

A sudden sweet smell hit her before something red was pressed into her hand. Blinking, she looked down at the object in her hand.".......A rose?"

"Take it as a token of my admiration~ Do enjoy the fine gin you left out."

"But it was-" She turned around, but froze at the site before her.

The glass and wine bottle was still there.....only.....They weren't broken. No glass on the ground. No wine spilt....It was just.....Like it never happened.

"-Broken......How did you-?"

She froze again when she was met with an empty room. She looked around for any possible way he could've left, but found none. She stared a little longer before looking at the fixed glass, then at the flower in her hand. The only possible things that proved he was even there.

"......I think...I need that drink now."

[winkingwitch]

◜     ┈     ♡     hey,      bubs  !          just     wanted     to     let     everyone     know     that     i     will     be     going     through     our     character     sheet     channel     on     FRIDAY     @     6PM     PST     to     check     if     every     muse     has     one     posted,      so     please     get     yours     up     before     then     if     you     haven't     already  !          otherwise,      your     role     will     be     reopened.          on     a     lighter     note,      i     will     be     around     the     main     all     day,      so     to     any     newbies     stumbling     upon     our     humble     abode,      we're     sorely     missing     alastor     moody,      peter     pettigrew,      amelia     bones,      arthur     weasley,      charity     burbage,      gilderoy     lockhart,      daisy     hookum,      emma     vanity,      greta     catchlove,      kingsley     shacklebolt,      &     the     prewett     twins     from     this     gossip     girl     inspired     marauders     au,      so     please     bring     them     in     exchange     for     one     helluva     good     time  !          

[alacetor-the-duckies-deer]

@suzaojou sorry reply got too long lol but it's like it's not JUST about the power scale, though physically I think Alastor would stand a pretty good change as a Sin, since the fight would probably have some strategic side to it.

It's about the politics of hell

It's about social circles and titles.

It's about the fact that it's Alastor.

Image no one KNEW a sinner could ascend (descend?) to that level of power, or imagine the seven sins knew and like hid/destroyed the knowledge/method a long time ago.

Where the other six sins once sinners? Where they hellhounds or hellborns or emps? Lucifer's an angel, but he's a Sin.

You'd have PLENTY of hellborns and sinners trying to figure out how Alastor did it so they could do it, that would cause so many problems.

And the other six? He's be like "no you guys but he's such a asshole" and they'd be like "I mean so is Mammon. You're stuck with him. Learn to live with it."

And the fact that now, when people talk about the Sins, Lucifer name will always be said in the same breath as Alastor's. And sure. They'll say "Lucifer" first, he was the original Sin, but they'll say "Alastor" last, the new shiney toy, the interesting one, the one that lingers in their thoughts just a little longer.

It's a matter of, does a whole new ring of hell spawn for him to rule, or is he gonna make a claim for Pride- as Vanity is often interchanged with Pride when people list the sins. One of them, Pride, is a matter of seeing your self as the best of the best, and placing internal value on your on inflated sense of self worth, while expecting others to agree without effort, and the other, Vanity, is wanting to be SEEN as a the best of the best, and placing the value on the external perception you give off, in the way other see you, and so puting in the effort to hide flaws and highlight perfections.

And people would talk about that. They'd be directly comparing Lucifer to the guy you actively tried to STEAL. HIS. DAUGHTER. For like all of time eternal.

He👏 would👏 be 👏so 👏maaaaad

Alastor would be thriving, probably. At worst, he'd get kicked out of overlord meetings. Might get some. "This is how it works here, buddy," hazing from the other sins as the newest one. There's a question of whether Sins can make/hold contracts with sinners, or other beings, because Lucifer's the only one around sinners, and we don't know if he holds contracts, and the closest we see in Helluva Boss is Mammon and Fizz, and that's clearly not a contract cause Fizz was able to quit working for Mammon when he was done being bossed around.

And really. If Alastor managed the feat, as either the first in sinner, the first mortal soul, to BECOME a sin, or else the 8th being on all of creation to ascend from another form of being, in the 10,000 years of history of hell, to manage it, and in just under a century? Who's to say he would stop there? Who's to say he wouldn't keep looking for a way to get stronger than Lucifer, and annoying the heck out of him in the mean time.

I don't knownwhy I though of this but Alastor dying a then coming back/just gaining that much power and becoming the 8th sin of Vanity,

Lucifer would be so mad

[aidanchaser]

Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows: Everyone Lives AU

Table of Contents beta’d by @ageofzero @magic713m @aubsenroute @ccboomer @somebodyswatson

Chapter Five Lily’s Loss

He slammed into the magical barrier and crumpled to the ground in a most undignified manner. Slowly, physical form aching and strained, he picked himself up and turned on the nearest cloaked figure.

“Crucio!” he shrieked, and the curse burst from Selwyn’s wand, fueled by his fury.

As the curse struck him, Stan Shunpike collapsed to the ground and writhed in pain.

This oaf was easy to unleash his rage on. He had known this boy would be slow, dim-witted as he was, and doubly so under the Imperius Curse. So he had sent the boy after the half-giant abomination. But of course Alastor Moody had seen through his plans. Of course Moody had been prepared! He should have known!

He was certain that Dumbledore, that fool, would have placed the boy with his mother. But Moody was craftier — not a better wizard by any means, but he thought differently than Dumbledore. Yes, Moody would not allow the boy to travel with someone as obvious as the mother, would have wanted to see to the care of the boy personally. At least, that was what he had expected.

He hurled a curse at the barrier with a cry of rage but it did not even ripple. The Order had outwitted him, and he had nothing to show for it but a broken wand. He did not feel sorry for Lucius’ loss, but Ollivander would certainly know what it cost to lie to him.

Harry screamed as he returned to his own mind and body. He hurt — worse than his nightmares. Something burned against his stomach and his scar felt like it was going to tear his head open. His scar had not hurt this much since Voldemort had possessed him in the Ministry of Magic, which itself was a pain only comparable to the moment of Quirrell’s death, when the shadow of Voldemort’s soul had passed through him.

“Harry,” a distant voice pleaded, “you’re alright — Harry, you’re safe —”

Something cool and wet pressed against his scar. It did not help with the pain.

But it was only pain, and it was pain that Harry was familiar with. He swallowed down the agony and opened his eyes. His father hovered over him, along with Ted Tonks. Both of them had lost colour in their faces and Harry wondered just how bad his fit had been.

Though his head throbbed and his stomach burned, he managed to say, “I’m alright.”

“Not well enough to travel by Portkey, I’d wager,” Ted said.

“I can send word to the Burrow,” James said, “let Molly and the others know we’ve made it here safely.”

“Where are we?” Harry asked. “I can take a Portkey —”

“Cedric’s not fit for travel anyway,” James said. “You just rest.”

The wet towel on his forehead fell into his lap with a plop as Harry sat up suddenly. He swayed, dizzy from the sudden motion, and splayed his hands against the worn bedspread to steady himself. “What do you mean Cedric’s not fit for travel?”

“He’s alri —”

But James was interrupted by a far colder, unsympathetic voice. “We can’t stay,” Regulus Black said, standing in the doorway, hands full with a bloody bundle of clothes.

Harry’s stomach turned.

“And what would you have us do?” James asked. His voice was surprisingly calm for how tight his hand was on Harry’s shoulder. “The Portkey leaves in —” he checked his wristwatch “— two minutes. Cedric’s hardly conscious, and Harry’s only just woken —”

“We’ll be lucky to have two minutes before the Ministry arrives,” Regulus said. “The Trace surely followed Harry as all those curses were cast around him. The Ministry knows he’s here, and I think we would all prefer if they did not find him when they arrived.”

James deliberated, but it was brief. With a colourful curse, he said, “I’ll get Cedric, then.”

Harry watched his father disappear into a hallway. Though a trip by Portkey sounded unappealing, he thought Regulus was right. He did not want the Ministry to know he was here, and he certainly didn’t want them to know he carried a piece of Voldemort’s soul with him.

Panic seized Harry suddenly, and his pain was forgotten as he patted down his shirt. Something had cut his clothes open, and while he found the source of the pain in his abdomen — a crescent-shaped burn where the diadem had been — he saw no sign of the diadem itself.

Had it fallen? Had Voldemort picked it up? Had his father seen it?

Then Regulus, as he saw Harry’s panic, dumped the bloody sweatshirt into his lap. Through the lump of fleece, Harry felt the shape of the diadem. He did not know how Regulus had come by the diadem, but he was glad to know it was safe.

Harry pulled it against his chest and closed his eyes. The scar on his forehead pulsed with pain as he did, and Harry wondered what had caused the Horcrux to hurt him. He had handled it easily before tonight. What had changed? Had it reacted to being so close to Voldemort? Was it because Harry had tried to kill Voldemort?

Though Harry wasn’t exactly the one who had fired that burst of golden flame that had struck Voldemort. Harry’s wand had done that on his own.

“You sure you’re alright, son?” Ted Tonks asked. He picked up a hairbrush from a vanity and handed it to Regulus, but his eyes were on Harry. “You took a hard fall when you came in. We can find a way to hide you when the Ministry comes.”

“I’ll be okay.” Harry rubbed his eyes and looked around the room. He guessed by the faded Quidditch posters and Hufflepuff banner that this was Tonks’ room. “You guys have done enough for us.”

Ted laughed. “Without you, Dora would have run off with Lupin in the middle of the night, and Dromeda would’ve taken their heads off when they returned. Your dad’s as well, I reckon, if he’d been in on it. And, despite the attack, you arrived here safely. No, I think today worked out well enough.”

James returned, with Cedric slumped against him. Cedric was pale, and blood covered the front of his shirt, but Harry saw no other sign of a wound, nor clues as to how Cedric might have been hurt. Hagrid loomed behind them and carefully shouldered his way into the room.

Andromeda Tonks followed. Her face was pinched with worry as she wiped blood from her hands onto a towel. She looked uncomfortably like Walburga Black’s portrait as she scowled at the hairbrush in Regulus’ hand.

“I still think this is unsafe,” she said.

“You’ve healed Hagrid up alright,” James said, “and done the best you can for Cedric. Picksie should have Apparated to the Burrow with the potions that Cedric needs, so I think that’s the best place for us.”

Cedric, weary and weak as he looked, lifted his own hand to the hairbrush. Hagrid, too, put a large finger on the bristles.

“Wait —” Andromeda said, but her hand didn’t reach for Cedric, it reached towards Regulus.

Harry had never considered just what Regulus turning to the Order must have meant for Andromeda, who had left her family as completely as Sirius had. Her eyes were soft as she looked at Regulus, and Harry forgot that she had ever looked like Walburga. He remembered Tonks instead, and how sad she had looked all throughout last year — sad, and alone.

Andromeda’s hand hesitated, inches above Regulus’ forearm, the barest indication of affection, but suddenly she withdrew it. “Tell Nymphadora to send word she’s alright,” she finally said.

Regulus nodded.

“Harry,” James said quickly, “the Portkey —”

Harry scrambled to his feet and put his hand on the brush handle as it glowed blue. He was jerked forward as if a hook had tucked into that very same crescent shaped burn on his stomach. He tightened his grip on the bundle in his arms. The next thing he knew, he slammed into the ground outside the Weasleys’ house.

Carefully, Harry picked himself up and was glad that at least he had managed to complete the journey without puking. Cedric had not been so lucky. He stumbled away from James and heaved a stomachful of something dark and viscous into Mrs Weasley’s flowerbed.

The door flew open and light flooded the garden. Ginny Weasley practically leapt down the front steps until she reached Harry, where she pulled him into the tightest embrace Harry had ever received from her.

“Hi,” he said.

And then someone was pulling them apart.

Mad-Eye Moody put himself between Harry and Ginny and pointed his wand at Harry’s chest.

“Hey!” Hagrid shouted. “What d’yeh think yer —”

Mad-Eye ignored Hagrid. “What book did I give Longbottom after our first lesson?” he asked, scars on his face drawn together in a scowl.

Harry blinked, searching his memory for such a small, insignificant detail. “I don’t —”

“Book — Longbottom — first lesson!” Mad-Eye barked.

“I don’t know! Something about herbal remedies — Herbal Antidotes, maybe?”

This seemed to satisfy Mad-Eye, who swung his wand between James and Cedric. “And you two — Kingsley got word to me that you never made it to him.”

“You-Know-Who figured out who Harry was,” James said, voice still surprisingly calm. His knuckles, however, were strained with his tight grip on his wand. “I changed the plan and stuck close to Harry. Ask whatever you need to, Moody, but quickly. Cedric’s lost a lot of blood and I promised Andromeda I’d get a potion in him as soon as he arrived.”

“What were Dumbledore’s last words to the Order?”

James closed his eyes. “Hope will be our most powerful weapon —”

“— but hope is nothing without trust,” Cedric finished, though his voice was weak.

Satisfied, Moody turned his wand on Regulus, but before Moody could say anything, Regulus Transfigured himself into a cat and slunk inside behind James and Cedric.

Finally, Moody lowered his wand.

“Well, aren’ yeh goin’ ter interrogate me?” Hagrid asked, still glaring at Moody. “Yeh gave everyone else the bloody run around.”

“You’re half-giant,” Moody grunted. “Can’t be Polyjuiced.” He glanced out at the dark yard. “Best get inside, Potter. No knowing who’s going to arrive tonight.”

“What was all that about?” Harry asked as Ginny pulled him into the house.

“Mad-Eye said you were ambushed,” Ginny whispered, “even though no one outside the Order knew you were being moved tonight. He said someone must have betrayed the Order tonight.”

Harry swayed on his feet, and perhaps might have fallen over if Hagrid hadn’t put a hand on his shoulder.

“Easy, lad,” Hagrid said. “Yeh took a nasty fall an’ a hasty Por’key trip. Bes’ not move too quickly.”

Harry wasn’t sure his unease had anything to do with those things, but he let Ginny lead him into a chair just the same.

James had gotten Cedric seated on the sofa. Fleur Delacour checked Cedric’s pulse with her wand and kept up a steady stream of conversation to keep him conscious while Picksie dug through a box of potions bottles for a Blood-Replenishing Potion. Molly Weasley paced nervously behind the sofa, and her eyes kept drifting to the grandfather clock that did not tell time, but rather told her where her family was. Unfortunately, even hers, Ginny’s, and Bill’s hands pointed to “Mortal Danger.”

“Mum, sit, please,” Bill Weasley said, and pressed a cup of tea into his mother’s hands.

But Molly Weasley did not sit. She did not even seem to notice the tea in her hands.

“Here!” Picksie said suddenly, and produced a bottle of Blood-Replenishing Potion.

James took it and uncorked it, only to have it snatched from his hands by Fleur, who very tenderly helped Cedric drink it down.

Harry glanced at Bill to see if he was worried at all by Fleur’s gentle treatment of Cedric, but Bill did not seem bothered in the least. He had found a bottle of Firewhiskey and was pouring it into his mother’s teacup. Next, he filled a glass for Hagrid, who took it readily. He handed another to James, who looked at it uneasily, then set it aside. Harry watched as a familiar black cat with a white stripe down its chest jumped up on the table and eyed the glass.

Before Harry could ask Regulus why he was still a cat, there was a crash in the kitchen. Everyone jumped and reached for their wands — but it was only Tonks. Her nose shrank and regrew as she entered to assure them all that it was truly her. In her hands, she carried a scrap of leather that might have once been a shoe and a rusty oil can.

“Moody’s doing a perimeter check,” she said, “making sure the protective charms are all in order. Doesn’t trust my work, I s’pose. Er — I think I broke a bowl just now. I’m sorry, Molly, I’ll set it right.”

But Molly didn’t seem interested in the bowl. Her eyes were on the worn objects in Tonks’ hand. “Were those Portkeys?” she asked, voice just barely audible.

Tonks winced. “Er — yeah. Arthur and Fred should’ve been back first, and the other one should’ve been James and Cedric. But they found their way back alright anyway, Molly, so I’m sure Arthur and Fred will too.”

Mrs Weasley burst into tears. Bill wrapped his arm around her shoulder and guided her to the sofa.

“They’ll be alright, Mum,” he said.

Harry swallowed down his own worry and watched Ginny’s face, but it was hard to tell how she felt. Her brown eyes were hard and her face was pinched tight. She was so free when she expressed her joy and anger, much like Lily was, but she didn’t wear her worry the way Molly Weasley did, nor even the way Lily did. She buried it, and Harry wished there was a way to tell her she didn’t have to, not with him.

He took her hand and squeezed it tightly. She squeezed back.

A blue flash of light appeared in the garden and Molly hurried to the window. She reached for the floral print curtains and peered outside. “It’s Remus and Hermione —”

Tonks was already running for the door. She scrambled around Hagrid and stubbed her toe against the sofa, but none of that seemed to slow her down as she flew down the steps and out into the garden.

“Tonks!” James shouted after her. “Wait —”

But Harry and Ginny, too, were already running for the door. Harry was hardly down the porch steps when Hermione grabbed him and buried her face in his chest. She tried to stifle a sob, and Harry understood perfectly.

Then James pulled them apart, though less aggressively than Moody had torn Ginny and Harry apart.

“Hermione,” he said in a calm voice, hand on her shoulder and wand aimed at her chest, “I need you to tell me how you helped Regulus Black escape Hogwarts.”

She frowned at him and down out his wand. “I — Harry and I used a Time Turner to get Buckbeak up to Flitwick’s office. Is it important? I don’t understand —”

“Yeah,” Harry said, “that’s what we did.”

And James lowered his wand. He didn’t not look relieved one way or the other. Instead, he looked incredibly tired as he stared at Tonks and Remus, locked in an embrace.

“Tonks,” James called, though it came out more like a sigh, “did you clear him?”

Remus let go of Tonks. “She did. There was a kiss first — perhaps not the most professional of moves from a Ministry Auror — I’m glad you and Harry are alright.”

James lowered his wand and cracked a smile, but the exhaustion did not fade. “Only cost us the Firebolt. Should’ve known by the name that it was flammable.”

Tonks raised an eyebrow. “And no scorches, you know?” she gestured below her waist.

“Everything intact.” James’ smile widened into a proper grin, and Harry thought that the ease of this exchange, just as much as the vows exchanged and toasts given, solidified Tonks as family.

“Where’s everyone else?” Hermione asked.

“Cedric’s inside,” Harry said, “but he’s alright, mostly. He —”

A burst of yellow light appeared on the horizon suddenly, an explosion of force, and the ground shook beneath their feet. When the shaking stopped and Harry found his footing again, he saw that something was burning in the hills. Yellow and orange flames burned bright against the night sky and plumes of black smoke blocked out the stars.

The door to the Burrow slammed open once more and Cedric stumbled down the front steps.

Fleur grabbed him before he could fall into the pathway. “Cedric! You are still ‘urt — you cannot —”

“That’s my house!” Cedric tried to pull away, but he didn’t have the strength. That seemed to be enough to convince him that Fleur was right. His shoulders slumped. “My parents are there —”

James stiffened suddenly, like a deer caught in a hunter’s sights. His eyes fixed on the blaze and Harry knew exactly what the sudden loss of colour on his father’s face meant.

Either Sirius or Lily were in trouble.

Remus and Tonks were already gone. They had run for the Apparition line the moment Cedric had announced that it was his home under attack.

Fleur carefully sat Cedric down on the doorstep. “Bill and I will ‘elp,” she said, and kissed Cedric’s cheek. “Your family will be fine. There iz nothing to worry about.”

She and Bill, too, ran for the Apparition line.

Harry glared at his father. “Aren’t you going to help?”

“I’m staying with you,” James said. Despite his ashen face, his voice was still calm. “Come on, we should wait inside.”

But when Harry looked back, he saw that Hagrid, Picksie, Molly, and Regulus gathered in front of the house to watch the fire on the horizon.

“But how?” Cedric stared at the distant flames. “How could they get through? There were barriers… no one should have been able to get in — I saw the barrier keep out Voldemort at the Tonks’ place — so how could they…”

Regulus’ voice, though quiet, seemed to cut through the night as easily and clearly as a dragon’s claws through flesh. “As an Auror, I imagine you’re familiar with the ways a Death Eater can infiltrate someone’s family.”

Harry would always be amazed that the Black family, a family so insistent on appearances and impressions, had managed to raise two sons who each had so little tact.

“I’m sure your parents are fine, Cedric,” Ginny said, and glared at Regulus.

It was a harsher glare than even Sirius might have given in this situation. Harry wasn’t sure if there was a metric for a relationship forged on slices of ham on a rainy Quidditch pitch. Regulus spoke highly of Ginny, and had a healthy respect for Ginny’s curses, as anyone who knew her well did. And in turn, Ginny did not tolerate Regulus’ sulking, but that was true of how she treated Harry, too. She did not let either of them brood.

Even now, she seemed to see the hard look in Harry’s green eyes and the crease of worry on his forehead. She squeezed his hand and leaned her head against his shoulder. Harry was surprised by how easily that comforted him. He knew that she, too, had to be worried for her father and brothers. He leaned against her, hoping that if they shared each other’s fear, it might hurt a little bit less.

Then there was the pop of an Apparition and both Harry and Ginny straightened and lifted their wands.

Molly Weasley, however, did not share their caution. She shrieked and ran forward, as Bill walked into the light spilling out from the house. He carried a body in his arms, face splattered in something dark, and red hair singed.

“Oh — Georgie —” Molly wailed, attempting to take George from Bill’s arms.

Ginny left Harry and ran to help her mother. She and Molly, aided by Hermione and Picksie, helped carry George inside. Bill went to follow but James pressed his wand into Bill’s chest.

Harry blinked. “Dad, he was just here.”

James swallowed hard. “He just came back from a battle. He could be anyone.”

Bill’s scars glinted in the waning moonlight. They were criss-crossed with scratches and dirt, and his face was heavy with exhaustion. Whatever he had just come from, however brief he had been there, had been bad.

He raised his hands in surrender. “Please, Potter, I want to get in there and tend to my brother. Do this quickly.”

“At our first headquarters,” James said, “what was the engraving on the winerack in the cellar?”

“Merlin, how should I know that? Regulus charmed it so no one but he and Sirius could get in after Mundungus —” Though it was a tired smile, it was a smile nonetheless. “Clever,” Bill said. “If I’d tried to lie, come up with something —”

“Before you go inside,” James interrupted, “is Lily alright?”

Bill shook his head. “When Fleur and I got there, we didn’t even see a way in. Then Tonks came out of the fire, dragging George with her. I saw he was injured, so I took him and left. Sorry — I have to figure out what cursed him, see if I can’t help.” And Bill ran inside.

Harry started running for the Apparition line, but this time it was James who grabbed his shoulder and held him back.

“Harry, you can’t go after her —”

“Why the bloody hell can’t I? Why won’t you?”

“You were just cursed — injured — I’m staying with you. Trust Remus —”

“I can still fight!”

“Harry,” Cedric said. His voice was not loud, but it carried across the garden. “She’ll be alright.”

The scowl on Harry’s face and the tension in his shoulders did not abate, but he did not try to break away from James. He glared at the distant fire, trying to understand how the Diggorys had been betrayed — or had one of Cedric’s parents given them away? Harry had not always liked Amos and Fiona, but he could not imagine them intentionally harming the Order.

Moody limped around from the east side of the house. His eye whirred, almost in a rhythm with his uneven walk as he approached the group transfixed by the blaze.

“Explains why I found Sirius’ Portkey, but not hide nor tail of Lily’s,” Moody grunted. “I’ll go and help. If I don’t return, Potter, you’re in charge.”

Harry watched his father’s shoulders stiffen as Moody disappeared into the darkness and a crack filled the garden. There was a strange quiver in James’ lips, but then they stiffened into a firm line and even quirked into a forced smile. “Don’t worry, Harry,” James said, “he didn’t mean you.”

Harry swallowed hard, thinking that no, Moody certainly hadn’t meant him, and while he appreciated his father’s attempt at levity, Harry still had his own weight to bear. It just wasn’t leadership of the Order.

Harry grimaced as he realised that he was already off to a poor start when it came to his own task. The diadem, nearly lost in battle, now sat unguarded on a chair in the Weasley’s living room. He considered going back inside to retrieve it, but a pair of sharp cracks had him rushing forward instead.

James put a hand on Harry’s chest and raised his wand.

Fiona Diggory and Fleur staggered up the path. Fiona leaned heavily on Fleur, and both were covered in something dark. Harry prayed it was soot and not blood.

Behind them came Moody, levitating an unconscious Amos Diggory.

Cedric left the support of the porch and stumbled down the path. “What’s happened? Mum —”

Fiona coughed, and when her hand came away from her mouth it was covered in black soot. “I’m alright, son.” She coughed again.

“Where’s my mum?” Harry asked, looking anxiously between Fiona, Fleur, and Moody.

James sighed. “Cedric — can you verify —”

“I think I know my own mother.” Cedric said.

“Idiot boy,” Moody snapped. He set Amos down in the grass and pointed his wand at Cedric. “I could have killed each one of you by now. You’ve let your guard down. Constant vigilance!”

Cedric glowered at Moody. “This isn’t a teaching moment! I need to know what happened to my mum and dad!”

“No, Diggory, it’s not a bloody teaching moment. It’s the real deal. Are you an Auror or aren’t you? Just because your mum breathed in a bit of smoke and your dad was cursed, you’re going to lose your head?”

“Enough,” James interrupted, voice equal measures exhausted and commanding. “Fleur, help Fiona inside and ask Picksie to check her over. And Hagrid, can you get Amos? Picksie will be able to tell if the Diggorys are Polyjuiced or not. Cedric, go inside and have Regulus get you another potion. You’re still pale.”

“You trust a house-elf with something like that?” Moody grunted.

“I trust Picksie with my life. Now, Moody —”

“If we’re throwing all caution to the wind, then I suppose you’ve nothing to ask me, then, Potter?”

James closed his eyes and rubbed his forehead. “Did you see Lily there?”

“We found the Diggorys in the entryway. Tonks and Lupin had just dragged them there and handed them off to us. Do you want me to waste time chatting or do you want me to go after her?” But he was already heading to the Apparition line, where he disappeared with a crack, leaving James and Harry alone in the garden.

The night was silent once more. The waning moon had not yet risen. There was no light but the glow of fire on the horizon ahead of them, and the dim yellow light from the Burrow’s windows behind them.

“You know,” Harry said, turning his wand over in his hands, “I always wondered how Sirius could have ever suspected that Remus would betray us, but I guess it’s a pretty slippery slope, isn’t it?”

James hesitated. “We knew there was a mole in the Order. The Death Eaters just knew too much about where we were supposed to be and when. We lost a lot of good friends because of that information getting into the wrong hands.”

“You mean because of Peter Pettigrew.”

“I told you, it’s complicated.”

“I know. But if Mum’s hurt because someone’s a traitor, I don’t know that I’ll ever forgive them.” Harry did not feel angry as he said it. He felt strangely cold. There was no fury, only certainty.

“Harry, if you —”

“I don’t think it was any of us who were there,” he added, “or Voldemort would have known I was with Hagrid right away, instead of Pyrites figuring it out because I doubled back to help you. But someone had to have told Voldemort we were leaving tonight, and somehow, they got into the Diggorys’ house.”

Harry remembered Dumbledore’s warning in his office, before the Death Eaters had infiltrated Hogwarts, before Dumbledore had fallen from the Astronomy Tower by Snape’s wand. Dumbledore had warned Harry to be careful who he shared the prophecy with. Dumbledore had warned Harry not to trust Cedric. Had it truly been Amos and Fiona that he did not trust?

A blue spark flashed in front of them, and Harry’s heart rate doubled as Sirius and Ron came tumbling out of the sky. Sirius and Ron found their footing and the worn, moldy hat that had brought them to the Burrow fell to the ground. Harry resisted the urge to run forward, instead, raising his wand as his father did.

“Harry!” Ron shouted, and ran at them. He skidded to a stop when he caught sight of the drawn wands. “What’s going on?”

“Ron,” James asked, voice as calm as it had been all evening, “do you remember what we got Harry for Christmas six years ago? Your first year at Hogwarts?”

Ron frowned. “I don’t — oh! A chess set. Because I mentioned it to my mum. But why do you need to know?”

“And Sirius —”

“Is ‘son of a bitch’ good enough?” Sirius asked.

It would have been good enough for Mad-Eye, but it was for James, who quickly threw his arms around Sirius. James’ shoulders slumped as he nearly fell into his best friend, as if the burden of responsibility vanished suddenly with someone else there to share in it.

“Sorry we’re late,” Sirius said. “Arabella Figg talks a hell of a lot for an old lady. After we missed the Portkey, she made us take a full bloody tea until she was sure it was safe to make a new one. I’ve learned more about Kneazle breeding in the last half hour than I ever wanted to in my life.”

Despite the typical Sirius-like humour in this story, Sirius’ face remained drawn in a scowl.

“Are you hurt?” James asked.

Sirius shook his head. “Pissed. I want to know who gave us away.” His gaze strayed away from James and Harry to the fire on the horizon. “Is that anyone we know?”

The answer stuck in Harry’s throat.

“Ron,” James said, “you might want to go inside.”

“Why? What’s happened?”

“George was hurt,” Harry managed to say. “It… it looked bad.”

As Ron took off for the house, Sirius’ face darkened with both fear and anger. “And Lily?”

“We don’t know,” Harry said, and before he could tell Sirius that Remus and Tonks probably needed his help, there were three successive pops. Remus, Tonks, and Mad-Eye had returned with Lily.

She was slumped against Tonks, with her left arm draped over Tonks’ shoulders and her right hanging limp. Her usually vibrant green eyes seemed dull and unfocused as Tonks half-dragged her into the garden until they reached Sirius, who had his wand leveled at them. James, too, had his wand raised, but his face was slack with shock as Tonks set Lily down in the grass. If a duel was about to be had, James would not have the reflexes necessary to survive it.

“I’m me!” Tonks snapped, and her hair shifted through an entire rainbow of colours in a moment before settling back on pink. “Now help me with her!”

Harry and James both ran to Tonks. James lit the tip of his wand, illuminating Lily’s injuries and Harry’s heart dropped into his stomach. Lily’s right arm was glaring red and covered in blisters, and her hand was swollen and purple in a way that Harry did not think was a natural response to a burn.

Regardless, he had to leave that part of Lily’s wounds to Tonks, since Harry did not know much about Healing burns. His own wand tip glowed blue as he pressed it to Lily’s chest and the light fluttered and flickered with her unsteady heartbeat.

Harry looked up to Sirius, meaning to ask for help, but Sirius still had his wand pointed at Moody and Remus.

“Mad-Eye,” Sirius said, “tell me what was in the writing desk at our first Headquarters.”

“Boggart.” Moody grunted. “I’m going to check the barriers again to make sure we weren’t followed. Potter, give me a hand —”

James looked up at Moody. He was not helping, exactly. He did not have the Healing experience that even Harry had. He was merely holding Lily’s uninjured hand and a Wand-Lighting Charm over them so that Tonks had ample light to work by. Despite how easily his work could have been handled by Harry, the hard glare he shot at Moody indicated that he was not about to move.

Moody seemed to understand. “I’ll get Black’s help,” he grunted, and hurried into the Burrow.

Remus still had his wand drawn, but it was limp at his side. “Ask away, Sirius,” he said.

But Sirius hesitated. His grip on his wand tightened.

“Sirius,” Tonks interrupted, “I can put her hand back together but I need your help with her burns so if you would hurry up —”

“What was it you said to me this afternoon?” Sirius asked.

Remus’ Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed. “Sirius… don’t…”

“If you’re really Remus, what did you say to me before the wedding?”

“I said that I would never love you less.”

Sirius lowered his wand and joined Tonks in repairing Lily’s arm. He took charge smoothly, as if he had not just wrenched a private conversation out of his very private best friend.

“Harry,” he said, “let Tonks monitor her pulse. Watch me. You won’t get a much better chance to see burn Healing than this.”

Harry moved aside so that Tonks could take his place. He watched Sirius’ wand illuminate, and in each place the pale green light touched, the colour of her skin faded from red to soft pink. Blisters oozed and shrunk as he, ever so slowly, wound the light around Lily’s arm.

Harry’s eyes drifted away from Sirius’ work and up to Sirius’ face. Sirius was usually so easy to read, but at the moment Harry could see nothing in his expression but intense concentration only on his spellwork.

“Remus,” Sirius said suddenly, voice strangely detached, “Conjure me a bowl with water and a towel.”

Remus seemed to be relieved to be given something to do. He knelt between Sirius and Tonks and did just as Sirius had asked.

“Tonks —” Sirius said, but Tonks had already grabbed the towel with her free hand, soaked it in water, and placed it on Lily’s shoulder. She moved her wand to Lily’s shoulder and Harry watched with renewed interest as rivulets of water wove like netting out of the towel and across Lily’s burns. They glowed pale and blue like Tonks’ wand tip and seemed to constrict until they had disappeared completely into Lily’s arm.

“Remus —” Sirius said, but Remus seemed to know what was needed of him without being told. He took the towel from Lily’s shoulder, soaked it again, and replaced it. Tonks, once more, wove the water like threads down Lily’s arms until they were soaked into the skin.

Harry and James could do little but watch as their friends worked in silence. When Harry realised that Tonks was no longer monitoring Lily’s heartbeat, he pressed his wand to Lily’s chest, and watched as the uneven pulse slowed to a healthy rhythm.

Lily’s unfocused gaze faded as her heartbeat steadied, and she looked up at Harry and James with a weak smile.

“Don’t talk or move,” James warned, but lifted her uninjured hand and pressed his lips against it.

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” she said, and winced.

“Mum — don’t,” Harry said.

She didn’t seem interested in listening. “Is everyone alright? George was hurt —”

“Stop,” James said. “I haven’t heard Molly wail since she saw him, so I think that’s a good sign. Amos is unconscious, but everyone else is okay. Though… Arthur and Fred haven’t arrived.”

Lily closed her eyes. “Damn it. They knew, James — Snape and Crabbe were on us immediately —”

“Snape?” Harry and James both exclaimed.

“Their hoods didn’t stay on too well at the speeds we were flying. Snape’s curse cut off George’s ear — there was so much blood I thought —” She choked on a yelp and her whole body tensed. “Sirius —”

“Sorry,” Sirius said. “You messed your hand up something awful. What’d you do, center a Blasting Curse on your own wand?”

“Not on purpose,” she sighed, and closed her eyes again.

“You’ll live, at least,” Sirius grunted. “I’m doing what I can, but honestly, Lily? You might need to get used to dueling left-handed.”

“Might need to get used to not dueling at all,” she murmured.

“What?” James asked sharply. “What happened?”

“Yaxley. Bastard threw a curse at me at the same time I threw mine at him. Well, I guess he was a little faster on the draw, because the backlash shattered my wand. Blew up the whole house, it felt like.”

“You’re lucky it was just your arm that you hurt,” Tonks said in awe. “The whole house did blow up. Remus and I dragged you out.”

“I hope Yaxley burned with it.”

The green glow of Sirius’ wand faded. “That’s as much as we can do for the moment. Let’s get inside, get you bandaged.”

Harry and Sirius helped Lily out of the damp grass and onto her feet.

James pulled her unhurt arm around his shoulder. “I’m afraid I don’t have it in me to carry you across the threshold anymore,” he said.

“I’ve hurt my arm, not my legs, you prat.” But she leaned against him regardless, and together, they walked inside.

When Picksie saw Lily, she squeaked loudly, something akin to a delicate shriek, and immediately helped Lily into a plush chair. She dug through Lily’s Potions box and pulled out a green bottle. She Conjured a bowl to pour its contents in, and together, Sirius and Picksie began to rub the salve into Lily’s burns.

The Weasley living room was crowded, stuffed with double the amount of usual occupants, one of whom was a half-giant. George had been laid out on the sofa, and the blood had been cleaned from his face. Molly was stroking his singed hair and sobbing into a handkerchief while Bill and Fleur tended George. His left ear was missing in its entirety, nothing but a bloody hole to mark its old place.

Ginny looked up as Harry came in, and they exchanged wan smiles, each communicating they were alright and no one was going to die. She picked up a roll of gauze and helped cut strips for Sirius and for Fleur. Ron, who was doing his best to comfort his mother, spared Harry a similar glance, though the fondness was different.

Hermione sat nearby. She had picked up the bloodied sweatshirt, but instead of handing it to Harry and berating him for leaving it unattended, she gave him a weak smile.

Cedric sat with his mother and his father, who was conscious now. Hagrid poured the three of them glasses of Bill’s whiskey, then refilled his own.

Harry, confident his mother was being tended by better hands than his, sat down on the floor beside Ginny and picked up gauze to help.

They all worked in silence. The only sound was glasses clinking and whiskey being poured as drinks made their way around. Remus downed his glass in a single gulp and returned the glass to Hagrid for another. Tonks, however, intercepted the second glass and passed it to Regulus. Then she turned, and with a mischievous smile, whispered something in Remus’ ear. His ears turned bright red, and he did not reach for any more alcohol.

Then there were two cracks in the yard. Harry reached for his wand, as did anyone else who was not wounded nor tending to someone wounded — or, in Mrs Weasley’s case, crying over someone wounded.

There was a commotion at the door, but no sounds of curses or a duel occurred.

Instead, Arthur Weasley’s voice carried through the door, “I’ll prove to you who I am, Moody, after I’ve seen my son! Now back off if you know what’s good for you!”

The front door to the Burrow opened with a crash, and Arthur and Fred pushed past Moody and Regulus, past Ginny and Harry, to George’s side. Mr Weasley and Fred looked exhausted and pale, but unhurt, for which Harry was grateful.

“Oh —” Mrs Weasley wailed, “Arthur —” They embraced, tightly but briefly.

“How is he?” Arthur asked.

“He’ll live.” Bill pressed his wand against the bandages and fixed them in place. “But Dad, I’m afraid you won’t be able to tell him anymore that he’s got two ears to listen twice as well as he talks.”

Mrs Weasley burst into another fit of hysterics and George stirred at the commotion.

Fred tightened his hands around the back of the sofa, but he cracked a smile. “How do you feel, Georgie?”

George glanced at the small crowd gathered around the sofa. His hand reached curiously for the bandages around his head. Finally, he said in a quiet voice, “Saintlike.”

Fred glanced worriedly between Bill and his mum. “What’s wrong with him?”

“Saintlike,” George said again, pulling Fred’s attention back, and he gestured to the bandages over the space his left ear used to be. “You see… I’m holy. Holey, Fred, geddit?”

Fred’s face went from white to red as he snorted. “Pathetic,” he muttered. “Pathetic! With the whole wide world of ear-related humour before you, you go for holey?”

“I thought it was alright,” Bill said.

“Oh, in that case,” George sighed, “I’d better try something else — oh, Mum, honestly, I’m fine. At least you can tell us apart now.”

Mrs Weasley did not stop crying, but she did bring her sobs down to sniffles. She dried her nose with a very damp handkerchief and Fleur handed her a clean one.

“Everyone else make it?” George asked. “Last I remember, was Yaxley casting a curse. I barely got a Shield Charm up to protect Lily.”

“So it wasn’t luck that saved your pretty face,” Sirius said to Lily as he finished off her bandages.

“I’m sure Felix had something to do with it,” she murmured.

Moody, still in the doorway, snorted. “Luck is the only reason any of us are still alive. They were more prepared than we were. Whoever gave us away is somewhere in this room. We’re the only ones who knew Harry was being moved tonight.”

“Apart from those at the other safe houses,” Remus said, eyes on the Diggorys.

“I should think,” James said quietly, “that what they didn’t know is just as important as what they did. Harry mentioned to me that Voldemort didn’t target him right away. Our plan to throw off the Death Eaters, should they have been watching us, worked.”

“Voldemort went right for me and Moody, just as we expected,” Tonks said, “and they also didn’t know that the Burrow was our final destination. Otherwise, I think we would have seen a fight here instead of at the Diggorys’ house. So it can’t have been anyone who flew with us tonight, and it can’t have been anyone at the Burrow.”

“Nor anyone who made a Portkey to the Burrow,” Sirius added.

“Well — that’s everyone, then, isn’t it?” Arthur said, looking around. “Everyone who was in on the plan either helped us get here or knew who the real Harry was.”

“Not everyone,” Ginny said. “What about Regulus?”

Regulus, hardly noticeable behind Moody, seemed to appear out of the shadows as his name was mentioned. He blinked slowly at the inquisitive and suspicious stares. “I was well aware of the plan to disguise multiple duelists as Harry. It was my suggestion, in fact. I also, you may recall, am as wanted by the Death Eaters as I am the Ministry. I have no reason to betray the Order’s trust, however thin that trust may be.”

“It’s my fault,” Amos Diggory whispered. He removed his glasses with a shaky hand and wiped his face. “I’m sorry, I —”

“Dad,” Cedric murmured, “it isn’t your fault. You couldn’t have known Yaxley would get through the barriers around our house.”

“He didn’t.” Amos took in a shaky breath. “I never set them up — I — I’m sorry, I got careless.”

“You just forgot to put protective barriers around your home?” James growled, and raised his wand.

“No! No! Nothing like that I — I was alone in my office today.” He stifled a sob and Fiona rubbed his shoulder encouragingly. “I’m sorry,” he said again. “I know we aren’t supposed to do that; I know that being alone at all puts us at risk, but I just had to run back in to grab a scroll before I left. I wasn’t supposed to be in there long. Yaxley must have followed me. I don’t know how long he had been watching me, but he caught me by surprise and he — he cast the Imperius Curse.”

“Damn it, Diggory,” Moody snapped. “What other trouble did you cause today, then, besides put Harry and the Ministry at great risk?”

“I — I don’t know. It’s all a sort of blur until the elf woke me. I don’t know what she did, but she made my mind clearer. I feel like myself.”

“Picksie has been practicing,” Picksie said. “Picksie can undo Polyjuice and Imperius and Picksie is working on Confunding and Obliviating next. Picksie is checking Mr and Mrs Diggory for any curses and is removing what she finds.”

“You’re a miracle worker, Picksie,” James said. “I imagine you could get work as a Curse Breaker in no time at the rate you’re going.”

Picksie beamed with pride. “Thank you, James, you is too kind.”

Lily rubbed her eyes with her good hand. “Well, Yaxley cursing the both of you explains why he was there when George and I arrived. I am sorry — I didn’t mean for the spell to go so badly. I just saw him and my first thought was that wherever the Portkey to the Burrow was, I had to destroy it, to keep him from getting to Harry.”

“He tried to Imperius us, too,” George said, “or at least Lily first. He sounded thrilled when we walked in the door — I think he thought I was really Harry for a moment. What did he say? Something about having one over on Snape?”

“I wasn’t paying attention,” Lily said. “I was only thinking about killing him or destroying the Portkey before he could get to it.” She closed her eyes and sighed. “With any luck, he’s burned up in there.”

“I think we’ve Harry to thank for the luck that brought us all here,” Sirius said. “To be ambushed and infiltrated and all survive? That’s nothing shy of a miracle.”

“Hear, hear,” Hagrid echoed, and finished off another glass of the brandy.

Harry’s ears burned. He wanted to protest, to say that they had all done so much more for him tonight, but his scar pulsed with pain. He winced, and distantly heard his father say, “I think we all survived tonight not because of luck, but because we all watched each other’s backs. None of us are here because of our own skill, but because someone else looked out for us.”

Harry clutched his forehead and tried to focus on the conversation around him. Ginny touched his arm.

“Well said.” Molly wiped her eyes with Fleur’s handkerchief. “On that note, I want everyone staying here tonight.”

“Oh —” Fiona shook her head. “Molly, we couldn’t possibly impose. We’ll find something —”

“Nonsense. I won’t hear of it. You and Amos can take Ron’s room. James and Lily, you’ll take Fred and George’s room. Remus and Tonks, you can have Charlie and Bill’s old room. The girls — Fleur, Ginny, Hermione, and Picksie have Ginny’s room — and the boys can all sleep down here in the living room.”

“Are we part of the boys?” Sirius asked, gesturing to Regulus, Hagrid, and Moody. “Just because none of us’ve been married off yet doesn’t mean we’re children.”

“We aren’t children!” George, Fred, and Ron protested at once.

This back and forth, though perfectly good-natured, irritated Harry and exacerbated the pain in his scar. He pushed himself to his feet and walked out into the garden. He was dimly aware of Ginny and several others standing, too. He hoped that they wouldn’t follow.

Harry only made it as far as the end of the chicken coop before pain split his head so badly that he could no longer move. He leaned against the coop to keep himself from toppling over as Voldemort shrieked inside his head.

“You told me the problem would be solved by using another’s wand!”

Harry pressed his hand into the weathered wood, tried to count how many splinters dug into his palm. Try as he might, he could not bring the Weasley’s garden back into focus. Instead he saw Ollivander, withered away to almost nothing, stringy white hair long around his gaunt face, writhe on a stone cellar floor. He screamed in pain, and Harry felt bitter sympathy, not just because he was in excruciating pain himself, but because he had been on that end of Voldemort’s wand before.

“No! No! I beg you, I beg you…”

“You lied to Lord Voldemort, Ollivander!”

“I did not… I swear I did not…”

“You sought to help Potter, to help him escape me!”

“I swear I did not… I believed a different wand would work…”

“Explain, then, what happened. Lucius’s wand is destroyed!”

“I cannot understand… The connection… exists only… between your two wands…”

“Lies!”

“Please… I beg you… Perhaps… Perhaps there is another way — another wand —”

But Voldemort was not interested in listening to Ollivander’s excuses. He slashed his wand through the air and the elderly man screamed as the pain of the Cruciatus Curse tore through him.

“Harry?” someone said softly. He felt a hand on his arm, far gentler than any splinters, yet the touch held enough weight to ground him again.

Though his face and hands still felt unusually numb and his head throbbed, when he opened his eyes, the vision of Ollivander was gone, replaced by Lily. “Mum — shouldn’t you be resting?”

“Did you really think you could storm out of there without us following you?”

Harry turned to see his father and Picksie behind him, and Sirius, Remus, and Tonks just a few steps away.

“Is Harry’s scar hurting again?” Picksie asked.

“I’m fine,” Harry said.

“You dueled You-Know-Who,” James said, “and whatever fit you had tonight can’t have been good.”

Lily frowned. “Harry, what happened?”

“Nothing,” Harry said. “It was just a… nightmare, I guess.”

James put a hand on Harry’s shoulder. “Harry, I don’t know if there’s anything we can do, but —”

“No,” Harry snapped, “there isn’t anything you can do. Voldemort’s in my head, and I’m the one who has to fight him. There’s no reason for any of this — for any of you to get hurt like this —”

“Harry,” Remus said softly, and stepped forward.

But Harry stepped back, away from his parents and Remus. “All of you could have died — you all almost did, just to protect me, and I can’t —” His scar burned and he heard Ollivander scream again. When his head cleared, he found that his father had pulled him into a tight embrace, and Harry wondered if he had done or said something in another fit.

“It’s okay to not be fine,” James said. “You dueled Voldemort tonight, and it’s okay to be scared. Your mum’s hurt, and it’s okay to be worried.” James let Harry go, but only so he could look into Harry’s eyes. There had once been a time when James would have had to kneel to meet Harry’s green eyes, but they had grown to the same height now. Harry did not have to even tip his head.

“Harry, I’m terrified,” James said, “But we’re all here, and we’re all going to look after each other. You don’t have to be fine.”

Lily stood on her tiptoes to kiss Harry’s forehead. “We’re going to be alright, Harry, as long as we do this together. Can you believe that?”

“No,” Harry said dully. “I don’t think I can.” He thought of the diadem sitting on Hermione’s lap, and how he had no idea how to destroy it. He thought of the cup, hidden away somewhere, and how he didn’t even know where to start. He thought of Voldemort’s pet snake, eating some poor Hogwarts professor in Malfoy Manor, and how it would be impossible to get to the snake without going through Voldemort.

He also didn’t see how his family could help him with any of it. Each one of them had nearly died just trying to get Harry to the Burrow safely. He couldn’t let them follow him on a journey that had nearly killed Regulus and Dumbledore.

“Picksie is thinking everyone should get some rest,” Picksie said. She slipped in between James and Harry and took Harry’s hand. “Picksie is sad, because she misses her home and her Mama, but Picksie is happy, because Harry is safe, and Picksie is safe. Picksie would like Harry to be happy about those things, too, and sometimes, sleeping helps.” Picksie turned and looked up at James, as if she somehow knew that he had been up all night.

Though James tried to stifle it, he could not help but yawn. “Alright, point taken. I think everything will look a little better in the morning.” He squeezed Harry’s shoulder. “Come on inside. Let’s see what blankets we can scrounge up for your sleepover party on the ground floor.”

Picksie hurried inside to gather pillows and blankets. James helped Lily back up the steps, and when she stumbled, Remus caught her — on her injured arm. She let out the sort of curse Harry was used to hearing from Sirius, and muttered a few more as James and Remus helped her inside.

Before Harry could follow, Sirius put a hand on Harry’s shoulder, and Tonks lounged against the door frame, arms folded across her chest.

“Just wanted to check,” Sirius started, unusually hesitant. “If — well —”

“You’ve got the look like you’re going to run away,” Tonks said. “We know it well. We’ve each done it our fair share of times.”

“Because you know you’ve got the Trace and all,” Sirius said, “and it wouldn’t be safe.”

“I’m not going anywhere,” Harry said.

Tonks quirked an eyebrow. “And after you turn seventeen? Will you stay here then?”

“Ginny’s here,” Harry said, which was not much of an answer, but it was the one thing that made him want to stay at the Burrow.

Tonks pursed her lips. “I’m not your mum, Harry, but I am an Auror, for however much longer that may be, and I shouldn’t need to tell you how dangerous it would be for you to go off on your own.”

“Then don’t tell me.”

He wasn’t planning on running away — not yet at least — but he didn’t need Tonks and Sirius poking around and asking questions. He had never been particularly good at lying. Keeping this secret was not going to be easy.

Once they were inside, Tonks headed straight for Remus, and snatched the glass of whiskey from him.

“I thought we said one drink —”

“We’re staying here tonight.” Remus took his glass back from her. “I imagine our wedding nuptials will wait another night?” He filled another glass and put it in her hand. “Consolation?”

Tonks looked down at the whiskey longingly, but she sighed and handed the glass to Sirius. “It’s fine — not like we were really waiting or anything.”

Harry’s ears grew warm, and Sirius took one look at the glass Tonks had handed him and downed with a speed that rivaled Remus’ drinking habits.

To escape from this terribly uncomfortable conversation, Harry looked around for Hermione and the diadem. He didn’t see Hermione nor Ginny, but Cedric was in the kitchen doorway, talking quietly with his parents and Mad-Eye.

Harry still had not had a chance to talk with Cedric since Dumbledore had died. He had decided to keep the Horcruxes from his parents, but Cedric had been invaluable to Harry in the hunt already. It was Cedric who had suggested that Voldemort had hidden a Horcrux in Hogwarts, and Harry, as much as he did not want any else to get hurt on this quest, knew that he would not be able to do it without Cedric’s help.

Cedric noticed Harry staring, whispered something to his mother, and slipped away from his parents.

“Are you alright?” he asked Harry.

Harry shrugged. “Are you?”

Cedric smiled weakly, then said, “Can we talk somewhere?”

The house itself was crowded, so Harry and Cedric went to the garden. When they had walked far enough away from the Burrow, Cedric let out a slow, deep breath.

“Feels nice to be able to talk to you away from Williamson — finally.” Cedric tried to grin, but neither he nor Harry were in the mood for humour. Cedric’s shoulders slumped and he rubbed the back of his neck. He was quiet for a long moment, his eyes trained on the now dark spot where his family home had once stood.

Finally, he asked, “What happened tonight?”

Harry snorted. “Can you be more specific?”

Cedric smiled wryly. “When you dueled Voldemort — you weren’t yourself, exactly. And your wand did something, didn’t it? And the Horcrux — when I found you in the Tonks’ garden, I think it was trying to kill you.”

“I’ve been in Voldemort’s head before.” Harry tried to sound casual about it. “And I don’t know what happened with my wand — it acted on its own somehow — but I don’t think it’s a surprise that a piece of Voldemort’s soul would try and kill me.”

“Do you have a fit like you did tonight every time you’re in his head?”

Harry shrugged. “I don’t know. I’m not exactly conscious when they happen. Does it matter?”

“I think it does. I don’t really know, but…” Cedric rubbed his eyes. “I just wish we knew more about Horcruxes. Then we’d know just what sort of danger this diadem is to us. I think you should be careful about carrying it on your person, for now anyway.”

“I’m not going to risk losing it.”

“I can look after it — or Ron or Hermione can. I’m sure your parents would help, too. Have you told them?”

Harry shook his head.

“Will you tell them?”

“I don’t know that they’ll understand. They’ll want to take care of it for me — but they can’t. You can’t either.”

Cedric laughed, and this time, it was genuine. “But I can help. I think I’m going to head to Grimmauld Place tomorrow, see if I can’t find anything helpful in the Black library.”

“Is it safe?”

Cedric glanced back over his shoulder at the Burrow. Harry wondered who exactly Cedric was afraid would overhear them.

When Cedric was confident they were not being watched, he said, “Things are… changing at the Ministry, and I don’t think it’s all Death Eaters. They’re helping, sure, but it’s every day people who hear these ideas and don't do anything. Right now, the Ministry is one of the Death Eaters’ strongest tools, and the fact that raiding the Order’s Headquarters isn’t a priority in the wake of Dumbledore’s death says something.”

“Just because the Ministry isn’t interested in the Order’s Headquarters doesn’t mean it’s because of Death Eaters.” But even as Harry said it, he had a feeling that both the Ministry and Death Eaters would eagerly raid the Order of the Phoenix’s Headquarters, given the opportunity.

“If the Death Eaters knew about it,” Cedric said, “then they would use the power of the Ministry to raid it. Thicknesse would have already sent Aurors in. Death Eaters are even keeping us off of certain cases, so I don’t see why they wouldn’t use us for their dirty work.”

“What does that mean?”

Cedric bit down on his lip. “Just something Christian said. His sister was close with the Muggle Studies professor at Hogwarts — Charity Burbage. I didn’t know her, but I guess he and Anne did. She’d just published an article in the Prophet about Muggle-born rights. And then she was gone. Christian’s Chief Captain now, so he set up an investigation but Thicknesse shut him down. No one else seemed interested in arguing about it.”

As Cedric spoke, Harry remembered his dream from the night before, or at least pieces of it. He swallowed hard, and tried to sound confident. “Well, at least I can tell you what happened to that professor.”

Cedric had regained most of his colour after Fleur’s treatment, but it faded while Harry shared his dream and his vision of what had happened to Ollivander tonight. Harry wasn’t sure which was worse for Cedric — knowing what had happened to Professor Burbage or knowing that Cedric’s fears about the Death Eaters controlling Hit Wizard investigations were true.

When Harry was finished, Cedric picked a third worse thing to ask about. “Do you really think he succeeded? Do you think he made another one?”

Harry swallowed. “I don’t know. Your research didn’t say anything about Horcruxes and goblin silver, did it?”

“I’ll look again and let you know.” Cedric wiped his hand over his face, as if he might rub out his exhaustion. Harry wanted to tell him that he didn’t have to, that this burden of research didn’t need to all be on Cedric, that Hermione would probably love to help him, but he didn’t think that Cedric would listen.

“When are you planning to leave?” Cedric asked. “After you turn seventeen?”

“After the wedding, I guess…” Harry ran his hand through his hair. He had told Sirius and Tonks he was staying because Ginny was here, and it was half-true. “Maybe until Ginny goes to Hogwarts? I don’t want to wait that long, but I think she’ll be furious if I go before.”

“Well — I don’t exactly have a home anymore. My parents have decided to stay with Mad-Eye for now, and probably will be there for a while. Mad-Eye’s pretty furious with my dad, wants to keep his eye on him. The sooner you leave, the sooner I don’t have to stay in Mad-Eye’s weird old house.”

And though Harry very much did not want Cedric to come on this journey, though he very much did not want to put Cedric at risk, he could not see how he would be able to do this without Cedric.

“I’ll keep that in mind,” he said.

The waning moon finally appeared above the trees that surrounded the Burrow. Cedric stared up at it and Harry watched as his grey eyes seemed to cloud with an unfortunately familiar expression. Harry had seen it in Grimmauld Place, during that summer the Order had stayed together, and again in the Potter’s kitchen last winter.

Cedric rubbed his eyes again and the expression faded. “Sorry — it’s just… Do you ever feel like there’s a voice inside your head telling you it won’t matter?”

“No.”

“No, of course you don't.” Cedric sighed, and Harry re-evaluated his response.

Harry had seen this same anxiety in Cedric when they had dealt with Umbridge’s terrible reign at Hogwarts. Hopelessness was always in reach for Cedric in a way that Harry didn't understand.

“But I know you do. Didn't you say Christian helped you with that?”

“I can't tell him about any of this.” His voice broke halfway through, and his lip trembled, but not a single tear fell. Despite how easy it was for Cedric to fall apart inside, it took a lot more for that pain to be visible.

“Killing Voldemort will end this war, Cedric,” Harry promised. “Whatever happens after that… well, I guess let’s just start small for now.”

Cedric took in a deep breath and rubbed his eyes, as if he could wipe away his own fears and anxiety. “We’re more than halfway there, right?”

Harry took a moment to count Horcruxes. The diary, the ring, and the locket were destroyed. The diadem, the locket, the snake, and whatever else was left in Voldemort — and a possible new Horcrux — were still left.

“Not quite,” Harry sighed, “but I guess we’re off to an alright start.”

[hiemaldesirae]

Tis Arrax,:3 and Fallen Angel Vox with Human Alastor (then eventually Radio demon Alastor) Anyone?

A Vox who is the baby brother to Lucifer, who looks up to him, who follows Lucifer anywhere. Who joins in on his rebellion, and--because he's so young, both Lucifer and Lilith curl around him and protect him during the Fall. Saving most of his wings from damage. They're still a little scorched, but he can still fly like Lucifer and the dark blue is visible. Vox, since he was Lucifer's younger brother keeps his human shape unlike the Sins. He becomes a Prince of Hell, but usually spends his time on earth, enticing humans.

That's how he meets Alastor--or should I say, that's how Alastor attempts to kill him. He immediately thinks this murderous human is hilarious-he takes the knife out of his chest, wings unfolding out of his back and draws Alastor close, a purr in his throat.

"Oh, Darling aren't you just delicious?" He murmurs, gently cradling Alastor's chin. Wing cocooning them Intimately. "Very possessive aren't you? I'm your muse, and no one else could have me hmm? That's why you had to kill me, precious?" Vox croons, demonic form fully showing, tail wrapping possessively around Alastor's thigh. "A gift, for when you enter my brother's kingdom--power, form your muse." He murmurs, mouth crashing down onto Alastor's tongue demanding entrance, the taste of his own blood thick as he entered his human's mouth. (A gift without taking Alastor's soul :3)

Laughing, he broke away as Alastor greedily swallowed his blood, and he flapped his wings, vanishing into the night.

Alastor of course never forgets his muse. Never forgets how powerful his muse WAS that night, or how safe Vox made him feel, wrapped in his wings (not that he'd ever tell anyone) and when he drops into hell...well, he is astonishingly powerful and becomes an overlord overnight, power no one's seen before at his fingertips.

Of course, he doesn't see is precious muse again until Charlie Morningstar opens her hotel (which he goes to help only for the chance to see more of the royal family.)

And who should be helping dear sweet Charlie on behalf of her father because he's in trouble for killing some important human too early? Why, her beloved uncle and Prince of Hell, Vox.

Alastor is thrilled. His muse, his beloved, his soon to be mate is here! Yes they're stuck doing this dumb redemption thing but they're together! Maybe Vox will let him curl up in his wings....and get a taste of his blood again. (But mostly he wants to feel safe, just wants to feel those wings around him again...)

WOOOO (very excited clapping) YES i love fallen angel aus... ive always wanted to do a fallen angel vox au but this one is the only one thats spoken to me so far LMFAO

the idea of alastor joining up the hazbin hotels efforts to rehabilitate sinners SOLELY because he wanted another chance to see the pretty (fallen) angel he tried to kill all those years ago in life is so fucking funny to me. like yeah okay go off boyfailure try and get your cognitohazard wife

also i do want to ask questions for this. obviously because i have nothing in my head ever and i hardly understand asks when i first read them through LMFAO. but uh, as a prince of hell would vox be considered like one of the sins??? in which case would we have... 8 sins? if so... i wanted to mention vainglory/vanity, which is a historical sin no longer used in reference when it comes to the cardinal sins. i think given the fact that it's now encompassed into pride as a sin works for vox, who followed lucifers guide and would thus want to follow even in his brothers footsteps when it came to his ascension (decension?) as a sin. and of course, the way that he behaves with alastor is... well. vain as fuck but you know what my wife deserves it

also. sighs and hangs my head. even though i have like 19 wips to do would you let me try and write this one too,..... (making puppy eyes at you)

[felice-jaganshi]

Strawberry Scented Love

Radiodust Strawberry Pimp AU

Chapter 8 - Open the Door, Please

The whole night, Angel sat in his chair staring at his contract on the table of his vanity. He couldn't understand why, but Alastor had given him an “out”. At any time he could tear up this contract and be free of him, of the studio, all of it…

“Th- there's no way it's real, right?” He spoke to himself, “Why would Al give me my own contract, why would he let me go? Unless, he doesn't want me around anymore? Maybe… maybe that's it. Maybe he's just bored of me. Well fuck him, I'm sticking around whether he wants me to or not!” He stood up from the chair, “I'm gonna protect the others, I'm not gonna let him turn into another Valentino and hurt them.”

 ~~~~

After hiding his contract, Angel made his way downstairs for breakfast. Husker was in the kitchen with a cup of coffee, bitching and grumbling about something or another when he looked up and saw Angel. 

“Ah, and there he is. You sure as shit made our lives harder. The fuck did ya do to the boss?” He didn't sound any more upset than usual, but his words still confused Angel. 

“‘Scuse you? What's that supposed to mean? I didn't do shit to him.” He went to the coffee pot and got himself a mug.

“Yeah? Then why is it after the ‘big date’ you two had, he suddenly told Nifty and me he's taking another fuckin’ break? Said he's leaving you fully in charge of the studio while he takes care of ‘other business’, and not to bother him unless the hotel was in danger.”

 

Angel let the words sink in. “He… he left? What the fuck?! What do you mean he left?! Just because I- no, no that fucking prick was probably already planning on leaving. He was just trying to butter me up to take the whole damn job off his hands. That's gotta be it.” He chugged his cup of coffee. And started to march out of the room. 

“Are you really that stupid?!”

Husk called after him, only for Angel to keep walking, “Not now Husk, I got a club to run now, and actors to care for.” If this was his life now, so be it. At least he was in control now.

 

~~~~~~

Angel approached the workers in the studio, they were all confused why Alastor wasn't there for the usual “top of the week meeting” they had all gotten used to, where he would select a volunteer to be on his radio show to advertise for their performances. 

“Hey everyone, the Big Boss is going to be away for a bit on important business. While he's gone, I'm gonna be in charge. Nothing's really changed, other than I now have to pick up his slack and do double duty watching over everyone as well. You all already got my number, so if something goes wrong text or call, and I'll be there. Got it? Now let's get back to business as usual.” He smiled and tried to act like Al was just on a business trip, or a vacation. 

As he walked away, Anna grabbed his hand, “Angie, what's really going on? Al left me a letter.” She held it out to him.

Angel took it and looked over the note.

 

‘My darling daughter, if you are reading this, something important didn't go as planned, and I regret to inform you I will be leaving for an unknown period of time. Angel will keep you safe in my stead, and if anything happens, go to the hazbin hotel. The princess will gladly give you sanctuary under my name. If you need to reach out to me, you can send a letter through Nifty. Stay well, and stay happy in my absence.

Remember, you're never fully dressed without a smile! -Alastor’

 

Angel's hands began to shake. “F-fuck… I really fucked up, didn't I?” He dropped to his knees.

Anna frowned, taking back her letter, holding it close to her chest. “Angie, what'd you do? Why isn't Al coming back? He… he was going to finally tell you he loves you. It took me months to convince him to! That you'd… that you'd love him back… was I wrong?” She looked horrified, her long ears drooped at her sides. “Is… this my fault?”

Angel looked at her in shock, “You knew? Months?! How- how long has he-” his eyes flooded with tears as he realized what an idiot he was being!

“Since… Before our first show, he said he loved you. That he's never loved anyone before, so he was scared to say anything.”

Angel quickly wiped at his eyes to stop the tears, but it was in vain as the wouldn't stop coming.

“F-fuck! I- I thought. I pushed him away! I let myself ruin something good, because I'm a fucking coward!” He shook his head, and spoke through gritted teeth, “No! No, it's not gonna end like this. I'ma find his scrawny ass, and I'm gonna kiss him so hard his stupid grin will fall off!” He stood up and looked down at Anna, hands balled into fists as he steeled his resolve, “I'm gonna bring him back. I promise. Just give me some time.”

 ~~~

That night when Angel returned to the hotel, he called out to Nifty. “Hey Nif! I need a favor!” 

She looked over at him, then ran off full speed! “Wh- hey, Nifty!” He groaned and chased after her. 

It took a solid hour to corner her, “Nif, please. I need you to tell me where Al is.” 

“Oh, Is at all? I thought we were playing tag! I don't know where he is~.” She giggled.

“Oh bullshit, I know you've been told to send him letters for Anna!” He frowned at her, “Nifty, please. I fucked up, and I gotta apologize to him. It's my fault he ran off.”

“I can send him letters, yeah. But I just put them in the fire and they go where he is! I don't actually know where that place is. You can try to go through the fire if you think you'll survive the trip.” She giggled maniacally. 

 

Angel groaned in frustration, “Fuuuuuck! Okay… okay.” He took a deep breath. “Nif, I'm gonna write a letter that I need you to send to him immediately, okay?”

“Okay! I hope you're able to get him to come back. I miss him already…” She sighed. 

 

And with that, Angel went to write a letter.

 

‘Dear smiles’... okay no, that sounds wrong.

‘Al, I-’  

“Fuck, what do I wanna say? How do I…” He groaned in frustration and balled up the paper. He pulled at his hair for a minute before taking a breath, and trying again.

And again…

And again…

 ~~~~~~~~

After a week of trying to write the letter, he finally had something he thought would properly convey to Alastor how he felt. He smiled at it and got up from the office chair to go give it to Nifty. 

 

As his hand touches the knob of the office door, he smells smoke. Familiar smoke.

Angel turned the lock and backed away slowly, keeping quiet. The handle jiggled like someone was trying to open it, and pink smoke seeped under the door.

“Angel~ Amorcito, open up~.” The voice was honey sweet, “I've missed you baby, don't you miss me? I'm sorry all that power went to my head. I see now how much I hurt you. I promise, it won't happen again. I'll treat you exactly how you deserve~.”  

Angel leaned on the desk and knocked over the lamp, causing it to clatter to the ground. “F-fuck…” He felt his blood run cold, as that laugh sounded on the other side of the door.

“Anthony, open the door~. Anthony~~” he whined, and his claws scraped on the door.

Angel looked around, not sure how long the door would hold. He didn't have any weapons on him. He ran around to the other side of the desk and dug through the drawers frantically! Al had to have left some kind of weapon he could use, right?!

“Angel, let's not fight anymore. I know you're scared, but I can set you free! I can get your contract from him and rip it up for you.”

A letter opener! Better than nothing. Angel took the letter opener into his hands, and crawled under the desk. Maybe he could get a shot at his heart under his ribs from this angle if he was fast enough… it'd be a small target though.

 ~~~~~~~~~

Outside the door Valentino growled, frustrated that even after all these months, Angel still had his built up tolerance to his smoke. “Anthony, don't make me come in there.” He growled, and banged his fist on the door. “I'm gonna count to three! And you better open this door, or you're in for the worst spanking of your life!” He didn't notice the shadows pooling and swarming behind him.

“One!” 

“TWO!”

A static filled voice whispered in his ear, “three.”

 ~~~~~~~~~

Angel heard several loud bangs and the sound of wood shattering. He shut his eyes tight! He heard the confident slow stride of shoes on the wood floor. Getting closer…

At the last moment, he lunged forward with a yell, his eyes screwed tight. He heard a grunt as the person he hit absorbed the impact and wrapped an arm around Angel's waist. The scent of strawberries and blood overwhelmed him.

“The letter opener? Well, certainly not the worst improvised weapon.” 

Angel's eyes snapped open, it wasn't Valentino he stabbed! He looked down, and breathed a sigh of relief. Alastor's hand had the knife in it, not his chest.

Wait, it was in his palm! Oh fuck!

“Shit! Al, oh fuck I- I thought, I didn't think you'd…” He let go of the letter opener and grabbed Al's waist with his lower hands, placing his shaking upper hands on his face. Al had such a soft and loving look in his eyes, his face and suit were covered in blood. 

“I didn't think you'd come…” 

“You needed me, of course I'd come.” He leaned into one of Angel's hands, “He's gone now. You won't have to be afraid anymore, my beloved. I'll take my leave now, if you wish.” 

Angel felt like his blood was going to boil, “If I wish?! Are you fucking insane?! ” He slapped Alastor's cheek, not too hard, just enough to startle the deer.

“You know, if you weren't so stupid, I could love you. But you're pretty fucking stupid.” 

Alastor looked shocked, and confused, “I… pardon?” 

“Did I not make myself clear? Here, I wrote a fucking letter. i was gonna make Nifty send it wherever the fuck you were, where the hell were you hiding anyways?!”

“I… was with Rosie, she's like a sister to me… so she always has a guest room open for me…”

Angel sighed, and let go of him, “Don't. You. Dare , move a muscle. You stay right there while i read this fucking letter to you.”

He took a step back and reached for the letter on the table without taking his eyes off Al, who stayed put. He looked so nervous, his brows knitted tight together and his ears pinned back, but still twitching a bit. He pulled the letter opener from his hand, the wound healing quickly. 

 

Angel took a deep breath, “You said before you were proud of me for being courageous… but when you were vulnerable with me, I let fear control my reaction. You didn't deserve that. I'm sorry that I hurt you… I- I really…am.” Angel's vision blurred as tears fell onto the letter. He lowered it and looked into Alastor's eyes, giving up on the paper, “I do love you, Al. I have for a long time now. I just… I was so scared, and I still am! But I- I want to be with you, even if I'm scared of this… I want to trust you. Please Al, don't leave. I need you. I can't do this alone…”

 

Alastor stepped slowly towards him, he placed his unbloodied hand on Angel's cheek. “My love… You can absolutely run this business without me. You're a brilliant demon. But I won't go anywhere. If you want me, I'm yours. I promise you. I love you, and if I'm being completely honest with you, I'm scared too.” He wiped away Angel's tears, allowing him to see that Alastor had tears in his eyes too.

Angel saw the quivering smile and decided to make good on his promise to Anna. Angel surged forward and kissed Alastor with everything he had to give! Alastor gasped, and Angel slipped his tongue into his mouth and Alastor kissed back with a whimper, holding Angel with a shaky grip.

When he was satisfied, Angel pulled back, leaving Alastor panting, his smile missing for once, lost behind an awed and dazed expression. 

 

“Damn Smiles, you never been kissed before?” Angel teased with a smirk. Alastor shook his head softly, slowly regaining his sense of self.

“Not with that degree of skill, darling… that… good lord, no wonder people pay you for such things.” He was actually blushing!

Angel chuckled, “Yeah, well maybe I should show you what else people pay me for… after a fancy dinner, of course. A proper gentleman like yourself should take me out on a date, before getting the goods.” He caressed Alastor's face and he heard a soft squeak come from him. Like the sound a baby animal would make. Angel's eyes went wide, “Holy fuck, that… make that sound again. That was the cutest shit I've ever heard.”

Alastor blushed even redder, his smile back on his face as he turned to look away, “I have no control over that! It's embarrassing, bleating like a fawn over some sweet words…”

Angel leaned forward and whispered into Al's ear directly, “Oh? How about you be a good little fawn for me, and make that sweet noise again? Amore mio.” 

The noise happened again, multiple times as his eyes went wide and his ears twitched rapidly, causing Angel to laugh as the one he was whispering in flicked against his face a few times!

 

“Angel, please! I'm not used to… this sort of thing! Have mercy on an old sinner.”

“Yer only twenty years older than me, pops. But alright, I'll go easy on ya for now… Anna's gonna be happy you're back by the way. Everyone will be. So let's go say Hi, Big Boss.”

[cornix-the-void-crow]

Alastor with adjusted colour palette came out more purple than I expected.

Husk is still in the works, need to figure out how to properly make him ✨️fancy✨️ .

Still crawling deeper into rabbit hole of vintage cosmetics and specifically vanity cases and compacts (they are so tiny and beautiful holy frick)

Velvette design is still laying in the wip folder, waiting on appropriate mood.

That concludes the update notes on RHD au for now!

Would any of you be interested to hear about some worldbuilding details present in this au? Cause I have some tidbits about effects of soul contracts on both contractor and contractee