#and because bill is so like carewyn in a lot of ways there are definitely points where jacob has secretly felt | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

carewyncromwell · 1 year

Photo

Percy 🤝 Carewyn

The summer of 1995 was a very busy time for Carewyn at the Ministry. Normally she would’ve been glad for the extra case work, as it would’ve allowed her to help more people, which had always been her dream and goal...but unfortunately, most of this “work” as of late had been to assist the Minister of Magic, Cornelius Fudge, in crafting some new legislation pointed directly at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Apparently Fudge was so fed up about Dumbledore having so much trouble finding suitable professors for Defense Against the Dark Arts -- in Fudge’s words, “one of the core subjects for a developing witch or wizard’s education” -- that he decided that if Dumbledore couldn’t nominate a suitable successor, the Minister (and therefore he) would just have to do it himself. Carewyn truly detested the idea -- but under the circumstances, she knew if she was both going to prevent Fudge from causing too much damage and keep the job she loved so she could continue helping people, then she’d have to be involved in putting that idea into action. So she’d accepted the role of legal counsel for Fudge while he developed this plan...even while simultaneously offering covert assistance to Dumbledore’s organization, the Order of the Phoenix, by leaving enough wiggle room to legally challenge the legislation.

One silver lining about having to work with Fudge, though, was that it gave Carewyn the chance to make contact with Percy Weasley, who had been appointed Junior Assistant to the Minister of Magic earlier that summer. Carewyn had to break ties with the Weasley family, including her best friend, Bill, so as to stay at an advantageous position within the Ministry -- an act Carewyn was loathe to put on, given how much she adored all of them like her own family. But not long later, third-eldest son Percy was promoted to the role of Junior Assistant at only 19 years old -- an act Carewyn immediately pinpointed as Fudge trying to keep tabs on the Weasleys, who’d always been loyal and close friends to Dumbledore -- and right afterward, rumors started flitting around the Ministry that Percy had severed ties with his family, all because they supposedly believed the “Boy Who Lied’s” rubbish about You-Know-Who returning.

Carewyn’s heart hurt, just hearing the rumors. She knew Arthur and Molly had to be devastated over Percy’s departure -- Bill and Charlie undoubtedly would be too, once they found out. Bill in particular had always been so protective of all of his siblings: his greatest fear, from the time he was young, was any of his family being hurt. And with Voldemort really having returned, it was truly dangerous for Percy to be shoving his head in the sand at this particular moment.

Someone’s got to look after Percy and make sure he’s okay, Carewyn decided at once. If the Weasleys can’t, then I will.

So when Percy stopped by Carewyn’s tiny office the following morning to fetch the legislation draft and notes she’d written for Fudge, Carewyn couldn’t help but smile at the sight of him.

“Hi, Percy,” she greeted him.

Percy was very stiff-shouldered as he gave her a slightly forced smile and nod.

“Good morning, Carewyn,” he said, his slightly pompous voice coming out a bit brusquely despite himself. “I’m here for the notes the Minister requested...”

“I figured,” said Carewyn. She took out a file and placed it in front of her on the desk. “It’s all right here -- I enclosed a letter of recommendations at the top, for the Minister to read over -- ”

“Much obliged,” Percy cut her off as he reached out to take the file from her.

He seemed oddly evasive. Carewyn could sense he was trying not to look into her eyes too long, but when he did, slips of memory emerged.

“ -- swear, it feels like she can look right through you, at times...”

“ -- it’s called Legilimency -- ”

The first voice in Percy’s mind she didn’t recognize, but the second she immediately knew was Bill’s. The thought of her best friend made Carewyn’s heart hurt.

“You haven’t had breakfast, have you?” she said abruptly, as Percy turned to leave. “I’m brewing some coffee.”

She indicated the modified Muggle coffee maker next to her desk.

Percy’s eyes flitted over to it. For a split second, Carewyn could see his father’s face in Percy’s gaze.

“Thank you,” the bespectacled young man said uncomfortably, “but I should really get this back to the Minister -- ”

“I’ll send it on ahead for you,” said Carewyn crisply.

She raised her wand. In an instant, she’d transfigured the file in Percy’s hand into a Ministry-of-Magic-approved paper airplane, which she then Charmed to soar out of the room, out toward the Minister’s office. She then indicated the empty chair across the desk from her with a gentler expression.

“You should eat something,” she murmured.

Percy looked up at her, startled. Carewyn could see Molly in his eyes, this time -- Bill too.

The third eldest Weasley flushed darkly as he averted his eyes again, his gaze falling over to the coffeemaker and Belgian waffle iron on the side.

“...I suppose,” he said stiffly. “But I can’t stay long -- there’s a great load of work to do...”

Carewyn nodded respectfully as Percy sat down. If there was one thing she and Percy had in common, it was their workaholic tendencies.

Once Percy had sat down, Carewyn set about fetching some mugs from inside the cabinet hosting the coffee maker, as well as loading some stored batter into the modified waffle iron so it could cook. She could feel Percy’s eyes on her, but when she looked up, he quickly looked away again.

“ -- Muggles use these things to cook different kinds of food! Don’t entirely get why they choose to iron it, but Muggles are truly fascinating things, aren’t they?”

Carewyn’s eyes softened a bit, hearing Arthur’s voice in Percy’s thoughts.

“Jacob made these for me,” she attempted conversation.

Percy looked up, startled. “...Oh, ah...your brother?”

Carewyn could hear Charlie in Percy’s thoughts.

“ -- kind of a mad genius, really -- ”

“Her brother disappeared because of those Vaults, Perce -- Carey’s not going to just give up on them -- ”

“Yes. I’d mentioned how irritated I was that the cafe’s line’s always so long and that I didn’t have any electricity so I could plug in my own appliances...so Jacob ended up enchanting these so he could gift them to me for Christmas. He even made a stop at a Muggle shop out in San Francisco to pick me up the waffle iron...”

Carewyn couldn’t keep the fond smile off her face.

“...It’s been helpful, in keeping everyone fed,” she said amusedly. “Ben especially -- he’s always skipping meals. And Talbott, Tonks and I work such late nights, it’s nice to be able to brew a pick-me-up or two, to get through it all...”

Once the coffee was finished brewing, she poured out two mugs, one for Percy and one for herself.

“Would you like milk?” she asked. “Sugar?”

“Sugar, please,” said Percy. “Two lumps will do.”

Once Carewyn had fixed his cup properly, she offered it to Percy, who quietly thanked her as he brought the mug into his hands and took a sip. As he did so, he kept his eyes locked on the coffee as much as he could -- even so, Carewyn could just barely sense the clipped memories in his head: Bill standing over Carewyn’s shoulder, Charlie wrapping an arm around Carewyn and calling her his “twin”...even the twins laughing.

“She’s like Mum!”

“Only cooler!”

That’s what it is, then, Carewyn thought. He’s afraid his family’s told me about his departure.

Her red lips came together grimly as she looked down at and took a sip from her own cup, contemplating how best to approach the issue. Then, taking a deep breath, she decided to say very softly,

“...I heard about what happened.”

Percy avoided her gaze all the more even after raising his head.

“...From Bill, I presume?” he muttered.

The thought of her best friend made Carewyn give the slightest, longing wince.

“...No,” she said softly. “We...aren’t speaking, right now.”

Carewyn felt Percy’s wide eyes on her without looking up. There was a long silence, before Percy finally spoke again.

“...I see.”

His voice was very solemn and yet also oddly soft: almost empathetic.

Carewyn swallowed. She could surmise what Percy was probably thinking -- that they’d had a similar falling out -- and as much as she wanted to correct the record, she knew it would be counterproductive. She knew Percy was in denial about Voldemort being back just as much as Fudge was, and he was just as deathly loyal to the Ministry as the rest of his family was to Voldemort. If she told Percy the truth about her helping the Order or the true reason why she wasn’t in contact with Bill or the others, then he would undoubtedly tell Fudge, and everyone else would only be in more danger. And so, reluctantly, she let it lie.

When she looked up, Percy was looking her in the face again -- it made it so that his emotions were suddenly much better for her to read, through his eyes.

“He’s using you, Perce, can’t you see that?”

“ -- wants at Harry -- ”

“ -- know you don’t want to believe it -- none of us do...but You-Know-Who is back, Percy!”

“ -- only believes what he wants to see -- ”

“And what about you? Blindly marching lockstep with Dumbledore, all this time -- even after he let Bill go running off after the Cursed Vaults with Carewyn -- after he left him and Charlie around the likes of Patricia Rakepick -- !”

“Don’t you see, you’re nothing but a pawn Fudge is using to -- !”

“Nothing?! Nothing?! And what have you done with all your time at the Ministry, Dad?! Besides....besides chasing after airplanes and collecting rubbish Muggles chuck away!?”

“At least I’m trying to do something with my life! At least I’m trying to provide for everyone -- to be someone my family can actually be proud of!”

“Ah yes -- proud of. A Ministry brown-noser that bows and scrapes before the likes of weak men like Cornelius Fudge, just to advance himself -- ”

“You’ve NEVER understood me! None of you ever have!”

Arthur’s and Percy’s voices yelling at each other was a strange feeling, for Carewyn. Both of them were destructive like out-of-control, reckless flames, and yet it was oddly vulnerable: like a wounded lion lashing out when deeply hurt.

Carewyn’s eyes flooded with compassion, feeling Percy’s anger second-hand. Percy seemed to sense how much Carewyn was seeing -- before he looked down at his mug again, Carewyn once again could hear Bill.

“ -- it’s called Legilimency -- ”

“Suppose you read my mind, just now?” Percy asked with a dark smile.

Carewyn shook her head.

“Thoughts aren’t something that can be read -- they’re not sentences in a book. I can only sense and feel someone’s emotions and memories.”

She paused. Then she reached out and took Percy’s hand.

“...Percy...I’m sorry your father said that to you,” she murmured.

However right he was about You-Know-Who...and however much it is true that Fudge’s promotion of you was more selfishly motivated than you think...you’ve always worked so hard, to try to do well at the Ministry. Mr. Weasley must’ve known how much all of this means to you...

Percy’s eyes darkened.

“He thinks I’m just thinking of myself,” he said lowly. “That I’m just running after glory for myself, and nothing else. But...”

His hand started to shake as he clenched his teeth, bowing his head.

“...But...but he’s always been the selfish one!” he burst out angrily. “Always running around, dawdling after Muggles...like his job’s nothing but a game! His was the only salary we’ve got to live on, since Mum’s always been at home -- sure, we want him to be happy, and yes, we’ve been able to manage...but we shouldn’t have HAD to just ‘manage!’ He should’ve been providing for us -- he should’ve been trying to climb the ladder, should’ve been looking for a job that could actually pay the bills, rather than make us constantly live on the edge...constantly have to buy things second-hand, constantly have to decline opportunities or make do with rubbish, just because we couldn’t afford better...constantly have to live with the stigma of being one of Arthur Weasley’s boys...”

Percy’s hand inside of Carewyn’s clenched into a fist. Carewyn gave Percy’s fist a gentle squeeze, but she didn’t speak: this was a time to listen, not to talk.

Exhaling heavily, Percy put down his mug of coffee down on the table, so as to protect it from his own temper.

“I wanted to attend the Slug Club party with you,” he mumbled self-consciously. “The one your brother was invited to, before you graduated.”

Carewyn blinked in surprise.

“I’d heard all about the Slug Club from other students,” Percy explained earnestly. “About how Horace Slughorn’s only ever invited those he saw as the most up-and-coming witches and wizards to his events. I thought it’d be exciting to meet so many new, well-regarded people -- maybe talk to Barnabas Cuffe about what it’s like to work as a journalist for the Daily Prophet -- chat with some fascinating up-and-coming authors, before I read their work -- maybe even meet the Gwenog Jones -- tell her how much my little sister idolizes her...”

Carewyn’s eyes welled up with compassion.

“Percy, why didn’t you say anything?” she asked sadly. “Jacob and I would’ve loved to have you join us.”

Percy shook his head. "I was only fourteen. Slughorn would’ve had no reason to talk to me -- I hadn’t done anything that would set me apart as anything other than ‘one of Arthur Weasley’s boys.’ And I already knew I had nothing to wear that would be suitable.”

“Andre would’ve made you something to wear,” said Carewyn, but Percy shook his head again.

“I thought of that, but...at the time, I didn’t want to be treated like a charity case,” he said gloomily. “I was already so much younger than you, and...well, you’ve always been much closer with Bill and Charlie than me. Even Fred and George...”

“That doesn’t mean you wouldn’t have been welcome,” Carewyn said very firmly, giving Percy’s hand a squeeze. “I only went to that party because of Jacob, and Jacob only went out of a sense of feeling like he had to, after how worried Slughorn was about him all those years. I know Slughorn would’ve loved having another person there who was just as thrilled to be there as he was.”

Percy gave Carewyn a weak smile. Through his eyes, Carewyn could feel just how warm and comforting her sentiment was.

“...Thank you, Carewyn.”

He paused. Then, taking a breath, he took the plunge.

“It’s...it’s lovely that you went to a party you weren’t even interested in, just to support your brother,” he said quietly. “I don’t think any of my siblings would go with me, if I got invited to a Slug Club party...they’ve never been interested in such things...”

Carewyn frowned. “You don’t think Bill or Charlie would’ve supported you?”

Percy looked uncomfortable. “In sentiment, maybe, but...well, Bill and Charlie always spent the most time together, at home. They were always each other’s best friend, before they got to school and met you. And Fred and George of course always had each other...even Ron and Ginny ended up together most often, just because they were the smallest and always needed the most attention...”

“...Leaving you all by yourself,” Carewyn finished grimly.

Percy’s eyes darkened again. Carewyn could sense the remnants of a very lonely bespectacled boy hiding in a hollowed-out tree outside the Burrow, reading a book, coming off of him.

Carewyn’s eyes softened and she gave Percy’s hand another affectionate squeeze.

“I’m sorry, Percy,” she murmured. “It must’ve been really lonely for you sometimes...even with how close your family’s always been...”

Her eyes landed on their hands rather than Percy’s face as she tried to shut out the isolating memories rippling off of Percy.

“...My mum’s family was a lot worse than yours...but she was the black sheep there too...and she’s always said that you should never be lonely, when you’re in a family. Even when you’re physically alone...you should never have to feel alone.”

Percy looked up at Carewyn, his lips twitching into a weak, humorless smile.

“Your mother sounds like a very kind woman.”

He paused. Then, after a moment, he spoke a bit more bitterly.

“...I...don’t suppose Fred’s followed up with you about taking over my old room at the Burrow, now that I’ve left for good?”

Carewyn’s blue eyes welled up with pain.

“...Percy...”

She got up from her chair, extended both of her arms, and encircled him in a big hug. The taller ginger-haired man flinched ever-so-slightly, but almost immediately grabbed onto her in return, burying his face into her shoulder without ever getting up from his seat.

“He didn’t mean it like that,” Carewyn whispered in Percy’s ear. She found herself maternally stroking the younger boy’s hair like she sometimes would Charlie’s, when he was sad.

“I know,” Percy’s voice came out slightly muffled beside her shoulder. “...I know...”

Even so, Carewyn could tell how much that barbed joke had really hurt.

Percy’s arms adjusted a bit around Carewyn, giving her a slightly tighter squeeze before he finally released her. He brought a hand up under his glasses to covertly wipe at the tear that had formed in the corner of his right eye, clearing his throat loudly.

“Excuse me, I...lost my composure. Silly thing...”

“It’s not silly,” Carewyn shut him down sharply.

Softening at once again, she walked over to the waffle iron, which had started to beep. She opened it, levitating out the newly cooked waffle inside with her wand onto a plate before summoning some butter and strawberry compote out of a drawer.

“I realize this makes for a rather sweet breakfast,” said Carewyn as she set about buttering and then drizzling the compote over the waffle. “But...well, Mum used to say that sometimes something sweet in the morning can take off the edge of a bitter night’s sleep.”

Percy eyed the full plate of food and then the clock.

“It looks lovely, but...” he said uneasily, “...I really should be getting back to work...”

“Then take it with you,” said Carewyn. “You can always bring the plate and mug back to me, when you’re done with them.”

Percy’s eyes softened a bit behind his glasses as he picked up his half-full mug and got to his feet. “...All right.”

He accepted the plate from her in his other hand as he headed for the door. He paused in the door frame, looking back over his shoulder at her with a slightly warmer expression.

“...Carewyn...thank you for listening. I mean, you clearly have a full day of work yourself to contend with, and -- ”

“My work might be very important to me,” Carewyn said firmly, “but the only reason it is so important is because it lets me help people. And the people I care about I will always help first.”

Carewyn could imagine Bill standing over Percy’s left shoulder, smiling fully and handsomely as ever. It made her smile that bit more warmly at Percy.

“...My office door is always open, if you need anything,” she said gently.

Percy smiled and nodded, before turning on his heel and heading out of Carewyn’s office, taking another sip of coffee as he went.

Friendship Drabble Prompt!

#hphm #hogwarts mystery #my writing #friendship drabbles #percy weasley #carewyn cromwell #arthur weasley #bill weasley #charlie weasley #jacob cromwell #horace slughorn #yeah I see carewyn and percy really becoming closer while stuck at the ministry together under fudge #percy definitely sees carewyn in a similar way he does bill in the sense that he doesn't agree with all her choices #(namely not being a rule-follower all the time and sometimes being deceptive to achieve her ends)#but also really respects her because of just how caring and paragon she is personality-wise #plus like bill she parents the hell out of people including bill and charlie's siblings #so yeah she also has some molly weasley vibes for all the weasley kids hahahaha #also yes arthur was harsh in that argument but honestly percy went way over the line too AND this involves a political dispute #considering it's about supporting or not supporting fudge and the ministry #so yeah I could see why it would get heated fast and a lot of things would be said that were both cutting and harsher than they meant #I'm looking forward to maybe drawing/writing some content for that slug club party slughorn invites the cromwells to at some point #after that one big merula-centric drawing project I'm working on right now

21 notes · View notes

imagitory · 4 years

Text

Just thought I’d share a little of my progress in the game Harry Potter: Hogwarts Mystery! Right now I’ve just started year 5, and yeah, while the game definitely isn’t perfect, I’m having fun! If you want to read more about my character, I put in a cut! (Sorry about my character holding hands with your character Alana’s bae, @weasleyismyking540 -- if I could’ve picked Chiara as Carewyn’s other half instead, I would have!)

My character, Carewyn “Cursebreaker” Cromwell, although she resembles me quite a bit visually, isn’t exactly like me, but one thing that she and I do share is a love of fashion! She changes outfits all the time depending on what she’s doing, from wearing all black when she was tailing Rakepick to wearing the Weasley sweater she got from Bill when she was trying to become Prefect. The outfit she’s wearing in her screenshots and in the biggest sketch I did is her usual “adventure” outfit, though she will break out the black version when she needs to be stealthy, like when she sneaked into the Forbidden Forest in fourth year. She also managed to become a Prefect, despite her disregard for the rules! In my head, I imagine it’s largely due to her maternal streak, rather than any astounding respect for rules and regulations: even if she’s a Slytherin, she likes protecting and looking after other people, especially social outcasts, since she herself has had to deal with a decent amount of people misjudging her.

Backstory -- Carewyn is the second child and only daughter of the half-blood Cromwell family. Her father, Evan Bach, was a Muggle who left his family when his son Jacob received his Hogwarts letter and his wife, Lane, revealed her magical ancestry to him. After that, both Jacob and Carewyn took on their mother’s maiden name, Cromwell. Carewyn was a late-in-life surprise for her parents, being born only two years before Jacob started at Hogwarts. Jacob disappeared when Carewyn was eight years old, and ever since, Carewyn has been starved for news about her lost brother. Part of her worries that Jacob -- a Ravenclaw who was kind of obsessed with learning and achieving every single thing he could -- has gotten roped in with some bad people or, worse, that he might not even want to be found, so as to not shame her or their mother or to keep them from harm. Whatever his reason is, though, Carewyn knows she has to find out what happened to Jacob and remove the shadow of the Cursed Vaults looming over her if she has any hope of living her life the way she wants. Carewyn is close with her mother, Lane, but has greatly downplayed her involvement with the Cursed Vaults so as not to worry her.

Carewyn’s biggest flaw is her pride. Although she’s made a lot of friends at Hogwarts, she has difficulty showing vulnerability and tries to be perfect in absolutely everything she does. If she doesn’t think she can do something, Carewyn tends to ignore it and/or pretend it doesn’t matter. To complicate matters, when she started at Hogwarts, she actually dreamed of doing all of the normal things Hogwarts students do, like joining clubs, the Quidditch team, and the Frog Choir, but because of her brother Jacob and the Cursed Vaults, she’s had to basically put all of her more selfish ambitions on the back burner. After writing to her mother for advice, Carewyn selflessly gave up her spot in the Frog Choir -- something she really, really wanted -- to Merula with the thought that since she earned the spot once, she could always get it back the following year when there would be room for both her and Merula, but even that ended up having to be put off because of her quest to find the Cursed Vaults. Carewyn enjoys watching and playing Quidditch, but is reluctant to commit to the Slytherin team because she’s afraid of letting them down. Carewyn is actually kind of a stick in the mud too! Unlike her brother Jacob, Carewyn is a meticulous organizer and planner who believes everything has its place, and despite liking Tonks and Tulip quite a bit personality-wise, she can’t stand the idea of most pranks, thinking they end up really mean-spirited and kind of stupid rather than anything funny. (This of course only makes her a fantastic target for pranks among her friends, who think she needs to lighten up!) Appropriate to a Slytherin, though, Carewyn can also be a little manipulative -- despite having a very strong moral compass, she isn’t above putting on an innocent face, playing mind games, or out right lying if it’ll help her reach her goals. She likes to look her best around everyone, both in her fashion sense and in how she behaves, and she hates it when her more negative impulses or insecurities peek through. Her biggest insecurity is her lack of control about her own life. Because she feels like she’s the one with the most drive to find the Cursed Vaults and break their enchantments, Carewyn has subconsciously assumed all responsibility for the fall-out and blames herself if anyone else is put in danger because of her search for her brother or because of the Vaults. She wants to control absolutely everything in her life, but the most she can control nearly all of the time is her attitude, her workspace, and how she presents herself, so she does so. Her greatest fear would be a threat she’d have no hope of controlling or overcoming -- namely, Voldemort.

Relationship-wise, Carewyn’s closest friends are Chiara, Bill, Talbott, Charlie, and Barnaby. She also really respects the eccentric Captain of the Slytherin Quidditch team, Orion, and fancies Ravenclaw’s own “Style Wizard,” Andre Egwu, who shares her love of Quidditch and fashion. The thing Carewyn likes best about Andre is how passionate he is about his interests and therefore how much fun their conversations are. Fortunately Carewyn’s interest is reciprocated -- Andre and Carewyn attended the Celestial Ball together and have now been on two dates, one at Madame Puddifoot’s and one in one of the Hogwarts Greenhouses after a Valentine’s party hosted by Gilderoy Lockhart that neither of them remember very well. (META NOTE: As mentioned, I probably would’ve paired Carewyn with Chiara if ANY of the dating events would’ve let me, but I really like Andre too. And after choosing him for the Celestial Ball, it only felt right for Carewyn to stick with him, as I see her as a very monogamous sort, relationship-wise.)

Carewyn latched onto Chiara very quickly because of her “outcasted” status as a werewolf, and since then, she’s sort of become Chiara’s own personal Sirius Black, using her hawk Animagus form to keep Chiara company when she transforms. The Weasley family (Bill especially) sort of filled the hole that Jacob left in Carewyn’s life, but because Carewyn loves magical creatures, she really enjoys talking about dragons with Charlie and everything else with Barnaby. (Barnaby really enjoys whenever Carewyn sings to the creatures she’s working with to try to calm them down.) Carewyn was also pleasantly surprised to find out that Talbott enjoys poetry, given that she loves the arts (music especially), so she encourages him wholeheartedly in his writing, even if her enthusiasm kind of weirds Talbott out a bit. (He likes it, though.) Carewyn clashes most with Tulip (largely because of Carewyn’s aforementioned dislike of mischief), Ismelda (her sadistic streak turns Carewyn off big time), Skye (Carewyn was really upset when Skye started telling rumors about Erika Rath without any proof!), and Professor Rakepick (who Carewyn at present doesn’t trust at all, but will be play nicely with if it’ll help her find out what happened to her brother). (META NOTE: I also adore that Carewyn and Rakepick have some physical similarities, even though that wasn’t on purpose -- it just makes for great visual symbolism, considering that Rakepick is clearly trying to groom Carewyn as one of her apprentices!) Carewyn is also pretty protective of Ben and now Penny, since her younger sister Bea has gotten trapped in a portrait thanks to the Vaults’ most recent curse.

Although the so-called “Most Powerful Witch at Hogwarts,” Merula Snyde, would love it if she were Carewyn’s main rival at school, Carewyn’s kind of gotten tired of the old song and dance Merula’s done with her these last five years and now tends to just ignore her terrible behavior. When Merula is willing to play nice, Carewyn’s glad for her help, but she honestly just isn’t interested in indulging Merula when she’s being awful anymore (which is often). And as much as Carewyn may think of Merula as immature and irritating, she knows that Merula had it rough growing up and that the two of them have a few things in common, like their love of music, and her mother (who was a Ravenclaw like her brother) would counsel her to choose the more peaceful route over active hostility. Carewyn wouldn’t call Merula a friend exactly, but she’s more of an ally of an enemy purely out of necessity, and for that, Carewyn shows Merula the base level of compassion and respect, but nothing more.

Carewyn’s favorite professors are Flitwick -- who taught her about Wizard Dueling and teaches her favorite class, Charms -- and McGonagall -- the one teacher who she respects above all others and would never have the heart to lie to. Being a Slytherin, Carewyn also trusts Snape’s judgement, even if she gets little of the standard favoritism from him: she was all too eager to try to help him spy on Rakepick. She also adores Care of Magical Creatures and probably would enjoy History of Magic more if Professor Binns didn’t teach the class, since her mother Lane works as a magical historian.

Carewyn’s love of magical creatures has prompted her to adopt several pets and magical creatures on the Hogwarts grounds. Her most constant companion is her orange tabby cat Mimi (named for the halfhearted “meows” she gives), but Tulip also gave Carewyn a toad she named Sir Robin the Brave, or “Robin” for short (kudos to anyone who gets the reference!!). At the magical creature preserve, Carewyn has trained a Niffler named Wicket, a Fairy named Belle, a Welsh Green Dragon named Esmeralda, a Porlock named Tumnus, and an Abraxan Winged Horse named Arjuna. Carewyn’s connection with her Abraxan is also beautifully reflected in her Patronus, which is also a Winged Horse.

I’m looking forward to seeing where my curse-breaking baby goes from here! For those of you who have advanced further in the game than me, I can’t wait to catch up with you!

38 notes · View notes

carewyncromwell · 10 months

Text

"Everyone’s a writer -- painter -- poet! Everything is avant-garde or chic!

We’ll be in the know before we know it... When you’re in the know, it’s -- Oh, it’s magnifique! To find in Paris what you seek..."

~"Paris Holds the Key (to Your Heart)" from Anastasia (musical)

x~x~x~x

Jacob Cromwell's graduation from Hogwarts truly was an underdog story, to most people's minds. After getting roped into the likes of R, losing his two closest companions to petrification and death respectively, getting expelled, and finally getting trapped in a magical portrait for seven years, it was something of a miracle when he was able to turn it all around with nothing but his astounding intellect and magical talent, graduating with full honors in the spring of 1991. Many presumed that after the trauma he'd undergone, Jacob would settle into life at home with a respectable new career in the Wizarding World -- his sister Carewyn certainly did, taking a much more peaceful job at the Ministry of Magic as a lawyer.

Jacob, however, celebrated his graduation and freedom by traveling the world and doing and learning as much as he could -- and in those travels, he ended up making quite a name for himself, not as "that delinquent Jacob Cromwell," but as a freelance magical researcher. One of those people who took immediate notice of Jacob's brilliance in this regard was a witch who ended up becoming a very good friend of his -- the statuesque Headmistress of the Beauxbatons Academy of Magic, Olympe Maxime.

It all started when Jacob finally -- after pecking away at it off-and-on for about two years around his travels and random Cursebreaking expeditions -- finished a scholarly essay applying the principles of Muggle chemistry to various Potions ingredients. It was a subject he'd first experimented with in his fifth year at Hogwarts (right in the middle of his Potions OWL, ridiculous as it was), but Jacob had felt more prepared to return to the subject after doing more research and even covertly sitting in on a few Muggle chemistry classes while traveling abroad. Then over the span of the next twenty months, he wrote out a full piece on all of the research he'd done, adding in some theories about a variation of the periodic table possibly being applied to various Potions ingredients and how applying the principles of organic chemistry to Potioneering could spur the invention of new Potions. Jacob sent a copy of his essay to his former professor and friend, Horace Slughorn, and the ex-Potionsmaster reacted with great enthusiasm.

Pleasantries aside, though -- Jacob, my boy, your essay! I spent an absolutely lovely afternoon reading it over a glass of brandy, and I was simply enraptured by it! I hope you don't mind, but I've already sent a snippet of it off to a friend of mine who writes for The Practical Potioneer, to see if he'd be interested in publishing the whole thing in some future edition -- such a thing awaiting your explicit consent, of course.

Jacob enthusiastically gave Slughorn the "go-ahead" to send the rest of his essay along, if his friend expressed interest in publishing it. Later that year, when Jacob came home for Christmas, he was able to surprise his mother and sister with their own first editions of the potioneering magazine containing his essay. Lane was so delighted and proud that she actually ended up bursting into silent tears.

"The Practical Potioneer," she breathed, her wispy voice choked with emotion. "Oh, Jay...I used to read that every month, when I was in school...whenever the Hogwarts library got in a new copy that I could check out...and now..." She brought her hands up to cradle her son's cheeks, "...now my little Blue Jay's gotten published in it!"

Jacob opened his arms in anticipation of the big hug his mother gave him, squeezing her tight. Despite being just as strong of a Legilimens as Carewyn, he'd never been as good at sensing people's emotions as she was -- but in this moment, he was positive: his mother was so, so proud of him. And that feeling filled Jacob up with so much vindication and warmth that he too felt close to tears.

Both Lane and Carewyn would put Jacob's article in positions of honor. Carewyn framed all four pages of Jacob's essay and mounted them on the wall of her office under a print of Hogsmeade village Badeea had painted for her. Lane herself left the magazine with her son's essay out on the side table by her favorite "reading window" for the rest of her life, and she shared it with every single one of the few visitors she invited to her cottage.

x~x~x~x

As fate would have it, a French Potioneer traveling abroad on holiday picked up several Potioneering magazines from the countries he visited, so as to read them on his long train ride home. One of those such magazines ended up being that very edition of The Practical Potioneer, and the French wizard was thoroughly charmed by the theories presented by the British researcher called Jacob Cromwell: so much so that he translated the essay into French and then sent it and the original magazine to the French Wizarding World's main newspaper, Le Cri de la Gargouille. The paper then published the translation of Jacob's essay in their paper in February 1994, specifically as part of their Mode de Vie Magique section -- a section that was, in fact, a favorite of one Olympe Maxime.

About a week after Le Cri de La Gargouille printed Jacob's translated article, Jacob received a letter via owl post that was sealed with a light blue seal marked with a cursive "B" over two crossed wands.

Monsieur Cromwell, Firstly, I must apologize if this letter reaches you more than once. When seeking out an address for you, I was informed that you currently have no permanent address, and so I had to get creative to find a way to contact you directly. Fortunately it seems that the Owl Office in Paris is most resourceful in locating witches and wizards while they are on holiday abroad. But now, to business. A week or so ago, while reading La Cri de La Gargouille, I came across your essay regarding the application of Non-Magic chemistry to our own Potioneering, and to put it simply, I found it absolutely enthralling. I profess no expertise in Non-Magic science, aside from the psychology books I've read by Non-Magic authors, but your knowledge of the two subjects is clearly thorough, and your conclusions in comparing the two were fascinating. Your application of Non-Magic chemistry to Potioneering is a subject I would like very much to share with my older students, in preparation for their entry into the Wizarding World. And so it is because of this that I cordially invite you to the Beauxbatons Academy of Magic for a high tea on the afternoon of March 1st, at 3 o' clock. Please RSVP as soon as possible -- I hope that since my return address is so prominent, your response should not take long to reach me. Chaleureusement, Olympe Maxime Directice of the Beauxbatons Academy of Magic

x~x~x~x

To say Jacob was thrilled at the prospect of visiting the famous Beauxbatons Academy would be an understatement. He was so over the moon at the prospect that he sent letters to Carewyn, Lane, his best friend Olivia Green, Horace Slughorn, Filius Flitwick and Madam Rosmerta about it, before he finally calmed down enough to remember that he hadn't even RSVPed to Madame Maxime's invitation properly.

Salut, Madame Maxime! Mon français n'est pas très bon, mais j'ai pensé que je devais répondre dans votre langue, parce que vous m'avez écrit dans mon langue. Le français est une belle langue aussi -- c'est ma préférée des langues gallo-romantiques. J'aimerais beaucoup te rendre visite! J'ai lu beaucoup de livres sur votre école. Je ne peux pas attendre! À bientôt! Jacob Cromwell

Jacob then had to immediately set about making travel plans to France. First he took a boat from Rebun Island (his current location) to Tokyo; then he took a very long plane ride from Tokyo to Frankfurt, Germany; once he'd gotten his bearings, he then took a train to Paris, where he was able to take the Floo Network from le Place Cachée to the Wizarding village of Lapinfort, by the outskirts of Lourdes. It was in Lapinfort that Jacob was handed a response from his sister Carewyn, which had arrived via owl the previous day.

Dear Jacob, I just got your letter. I can't believe you're actually going to visit Beauxbatons Academy! I know how much you've always wanted to go there, and to know you've been invited there by Madame Maxime herself...I'm so proud of you! I'm not exaggerating when I say I'm rereading your letter as I'm writing this and I can't stop smiling. Truly, though, I hope you get on with Madame Maxime, and that your lecture for her students goes well. I met Maxime once when she accompanied my school friend Penny's penpal Aurelie Dumont on a visit to Hogwarts, and she's a very glamorous woman. But please, Jacob, I'm begging you, don't make ANY comments about her size -- she's even taller than Hagrid, and I get the feeling she's secretly very self-conscious about it. The last thing I want is for you to make a bad first impression!! As the French say, "bonne chance!" Write to me as soon as you get this, and then be sure to also write to me all about your meeting, after it's over -- I want to know everything. Love you, Carewyn

Jacob wrote Carewyn a quick note to let her know of his safe arrival. Then, once he'd finished, he went into town and found a carriage led by flying horses that could take him over the Pyranees mountains and to the famous Beauxbatons Academy of Magic.

It was truly as beautiful of a school as Jacob's books had claimed. Just as Hogwarts was a mysterious, grand stone castle, Beauxbatons was likewise a kind of palace, though one far more ornamental and delicate: a true French chateau, framed by elegant gardens trimmed with fairy lights.

As Jacob disembarked from the carriage, he found himself enchanted by the tiny seashells embedded into the cement paths that led through the gardens. He soon found himself wandering the left of these paths, rather than looking for the entrance properly, and found himself embarking on a quest to locate the center of the hedge maze he'd found himself in. It wasn't until about a half-hour later that he found his way back out and to Beauxbatons' entrance.

When Jacob reached the grand, white front doors, they sparkled with silver sparkles as they opened for him. Clearly the school knew this was a welcome guest, rather than an enemy -- Jacob's eyes lit up at this thought, and only became brighter seeing the school's interior.

The ceilings were even high than Hogwarts's, and shining as bright white as a spring-time sky full of angelic clouds. The halls were framed by large, beautiful, painted marble columns trimmed with gold, as well as countless living portraits trimmed with ornate ivory frames. There were crystal chandeliers decorated with colorful glass flowers and ivy that sparkled with even more fairy lights. Living statues were mounted in displays of honor down the hall, and they all turned their heads to look at Jacob as he passed. Everything was so bright and pristine, and yet not flimsy. There was power here, inside of this ageless, seemingly fragile beauty: the kind found in the Greek Parthenon or the palace of Versailles.

"Ah...Monsieur Cromwell."

Jacob looked up, startled, to find a very foreboding, but beautiful woman dressed all in light blue satin with a white feathered-shawl around her shoulders, approaching him. She was large before she got close, but once she had, she towered over him, nearly as tall as the ceiling.

Like Hagrid, Jacob recalled.

The thought of the friendly gamekeeper, as well as of Carewyn's letter, made Jacob grin from ear to ear.

"...You must be Madame Maxime!"

"Oui," she said lightly. "You are late, Monsieur Cromwell -- I expected you 'alf an 'our ago."

The Directice's dark eyes flitted over the much smaller man, taking in his incredibly informal white t-shirt and jeans with muted disapproval.

Jacob, however, was blissfully unaware of this.

"Oh yeah -- sorry about that!" he said brightly. "I was just exploring your gardens -- fabulous hedge maze you've got, on par with the one at Villandry Castle. I think I found at least one of its treasures in my wanderings -- that is, if you don't count the absolutely beautiful Herbology specimens...nearly got caught in that French Devil's Snare, when trying to examine your color-changing peonies. But at the center of the maze, I found your garden of wood nymphs -- "

Maxime looked very startled. "You found eet?"

"Yeah! Bloody brilliant use of Concealment Charms, though -- took me about ten tries, before I got the order of turns right...but yeah, so I found the garden in the center, and that tree...absolutely stunning! I don't even know what breed it is exactly, maybe a variation of Wiggentree, but it's exquisite! Is it unique? It surely must be -- I've never seen one so big! Anyhow, the wood nymph Queen wasn't so keen on me getting close, but once I showed her I meant no harm, she pointed the way out for me...who knew wood nymphs would be so keen on Whitney Houston? Though really, I don't blame them -- Whitney's got a wicked set of pipes -- obviously I couldn't do her song the same justice she would've, but hey..."

Many a person had found Jacob's talkativeness exhausting to deal with, in the past. Even Jacob's first friend and love Duncan Ashe had frequently had to tell Jacob to shut up now and again, whenever he'd go off the deep end in rambling. Surprisingly, however, Madame Maxime didn't seem the least bit uncomfortable or overwhelmed -- if anything, her expression bloomed into something a bit more intrigued.

"You zaid zat you not only found our garden for ze wood nymphs in less zhan an hour," she said, "but zat you also earned zheir favor? Monsieur Cromwell -- I do not zhink you are aware of quite how rare zat is."

Jacob cocked his eyebrows, smiling fully. "Why, because of your Concealing magic? Ah, well, I am a freelance Cursebreaker, a lot of the time...puzzles are my favorite thing. And magical creatures are always groovy -- you should meet my friend Hagrid, he works at Hogwarts, he's swell with creatures..."

"What I mean is zat conquering zat maze is a test all seventh year students must face 'ere at Beauxbatons, in order to graduate," Maxime said, her smile spreading more fully. "And most only reach ze garden, before 'aving to quickly leave it. Ze wood nymphs are very protective of zheir tree -- which, yes, is a one of a kind specimen: I rescued it on a trip to Greece myself," he eyes twinkled with a bit of mischief.

Jacob blinked. Then his face broke out into a bigger smile than ever, his skull-like light blue eyes positively alight with delight.

"So does that make me worthy of touring the hallowed halls of your Academy, Directice?" he asked, raising his eyebrows eagerly.

Maxime beamed. "Quite worthy, Monsieur Cromwell."

"Groovy!" cheered Jacob. "Because I was meaning to ask about your school's architecture -- everything I've read about Beauxbatons states that it was built in the 13th century, but all of the decor and landscaping I've seen since I got here is distinctly Baroque -- more properly, Rococo-inspired, which wasn't popular until the 17th century at the earliest. I would assume Beauxbatons has gone through some structural changes thorough-out the years -- understandable, given the history of war on France's borders, in contrast to the isolated Scottish Highlands where Hogwarts is situated -- but are these original from that period, or was it brought back in a revival, after the fall of Napoleon and the virulent anti-monarchist views held by the common man had calmed enough that such beauty could be celebrated again, rather than solely condemned?"

Maxime indulged Jacob's questions as they walked down the long hall and then up a grand staircase to her office. Once there, she offered Jacob some tea (which Jacob drank to be polite) and a dish of endlessly duplicating chocolate madeleines (which Jacob couldn't stop eating). While drinking their tea, Maxime asked Jacob some questions of her own about the kinds of magical research he'd been working on, which prompted Jacob to go off on a tangent about poisons and antidotes, which in turn got Maxime eagerly talking about the perfumes she mixed herself, using the flowers grown in the Beauxbatons gardens.

"Truly, it iz also not zo different from your non-Magique 'chemistry,'" said Maxime. "Just as with Potions, you zimply need zome zort of essential oil, a proper base, and zhen different 'notes,' to achieve ze desired effect. Combine jojouba oil, lavender, and rose with just a 'int of Lady's Mantle as a top note, and voila! You have a perfume zat not only makes you feel relaxed and beautiful, but makes you both smell and appear even more beautiful, to ze people around you."

Jacob's eyes lit up. "Using Beauty Potion ingredients in perfumes! What a groovy idea! I can't wait to tell my Pip -- she's always liked lavender as a scent..."

Maxime beamed, clearly very pleased by Jacob's enthusiasm. "You can zee why your piece about applying non-Magique chemistry to Potions interested me zo much. I would frankly love to 'ear 'ow you'd explain your theories to my students...if you would be willing to let me 'sit in' on your lecture."

"Of course!" Jacob said at once, without any hesitation. His grin was so big he could hardly contain it. "Mais oui! I'd be honored!"

Maxime and Jacob would go on to talk for another whole hour, long after the tea was gone. It was only then that Maxime brought Jacob downstairs toward the Potions classroom, where a set of seventh years had just filed in, and introduced Jacob to the class before settling in the very back of the room as he started his lecture. Although Jacob went on quite a few long tangents in his lecture, his enthusiasm captivated the French students, so much so that they couldn't even look down too much on the weird Briton with the crazy hair and sloppy clothes. He was so animated and intelligent when he talked that soon all of the students were raising their hands and engaging with him, asking follow-up questions and even challenging his conclusions, which Jacob reacted to with almost more enthusiasm than he did to the questions. By the time Jacob's lecture was through, Maxime's eyes positively radiated with how charmed she was by this tiny, quirky little wizard with the messy curls.

"You will have to visit again, when next you publish anozher zuch work," she said insistently.

"Oh, totally!" said Jacob eagerly. "I'd love to come again sometime. Even just to explore some more -- your school really is smashing! I'd love to see your library next time..."

"Mais oui -- but of course."

Jacob's enthusiasm clearly pleased Maxime greatly. It made her give a slightly-too-hard pat to Jacob's cheek that ended up more feeling like a slap.

"Au revoir, Monsieur Cromwell," said Maxime with a warm smile. "I do 'ope zat you shall visit France again soon."

Jacob blinked. Then he smiled a bit more awkwardly.

"Well, uh...my travels kind of keep me on the move. I don't really know when I'll be anywhere a lot of the time -- I just sort of figure it out as I go along. But that doesn't mean I wouldn't like to come back sometime, obviously! And until I do, I could always send you letters, if you'd like. I love sending letters," Jacob added with a grin.

Maxime cocked her eyebrows. "You do not zeem to like receiving zhem quite so much, if you do not have a proper return address."

Jacob laughed uncomfortably. "Oh no, it's...not me not liking receiving letters, I just...keep forgetting to file for a proper collection box, with the Owl Office. Pip's always getting on me for that -- she ends up getting most of the letters for me, and she thinks it'd be a lot easier if people just sent them straight to me, rather than her having to figure out where to send stuff to me based on what I tell her of where I'm next going..."

"Your 'Pip' iz right about zat," said Maxime with a cool smile. "I would zuppose she is just too nice to tell you to stop making 'er pick up after you."

Jacob laughed a bit more fully, though still rather uncomfortably.

"Yeah...yeah, I guess you're right..." He smiled a bit more fully. "All right -- when I get a proper collection box, I'll let you know straight away."

"Good," said Maxime. "I would not like to 'ave to zend three of ze same letter again. I am not ze zort of woman who likes to appear desperate."

Jacob laughed again despite himself. "Desperate? I wouldn't have said that. I thought that it just made you determined, honestly. It sounds like just the sort of thing my Pip would do, to make sure she reached me."

"I have met your zister before, Jacob Cromwell, however briefly," said Maxime, her wry smile widening a bit. "Zo I know, both because of 'er and because of your clear esteem for 'er, zat your comparison is a great compliment."

Jacob grinned. "Better believe it is."

Sure enough, with Madame Maxime's prodding, Jacob opened up a collection box with the Owl Office and enchanted it so that his mail could seamlessly appear in a collection tray on the desk inside his portable room in a suitcase. With this, he was able to receive and send letters a lot more quickly and efficiently -- and it was because of this that Jacob received the news of Cedric Diggory's death so quickly from both Carewyn and Maxime and he was so quick to return home to the United Kingdom in the spring of 1995. Jacob would lose touch with Madame Maxime when she went with Hagrid to negotiate with the giants, but they would reestablish contact after her during the War and especially after, when they no longer had to send messages in code.

The two would remain friends for many years to come, sending letters and gifts to each other while Jacob was traveling. One of Jacob's favorite gifts from Olympe Maxime ended up being a custom cologne she brewed for him, made of cocoa beans, leather, Egyptian musk, and Lady's Mantle. It was a scent Jacob wore chiefly on dates, when he really wanted to look and feel his best, and whenever anyone asked him about it, he was always incredibly proud to boast about his talented friend, the stately Directice of Beauxbatons herself.

#hphm #hogwarts mystery #my writing #jacob cromwell #madame maxime #carewyn cromwell #horace slughorn #lane cromwell #yay jacob content!#I kind of felt like exploring jacob's dynamics with certain characters the way I did for carewyn with umbridge #though this one's obviously a much lighter example #another relationship I wouldn't mind exploring is the bill and jacob relationship #because yeaaaaah jacob kind of resents bill even though he knows he's not a bad person and he's his sister's bestie #but bill kind of 'replaced' jacob in carewyn's life to a degree as older brother figure for a while and that stings #and because bill is so like carewyn in a lot of ways there are definitely points where jacob has secretly felt #as though bill was a better 'brother' for her than he was #not that it'd be easy for him to articulate that either because of his own pride or because he's not as smart emotionally as carey is #but yeah anyway I find it funny how much easier it is for jacob to make friends with people who are older than him than his age #rosmerta flitwick slughorn...even mia who I've written about elsewhere ends up seven years older than jacob thanks to the portrait thing

5 notes · View notes

carewyncromwell · 3 years

Text

Hi guys! I thought I’d start this HPHM AU Ships Challenge, just for funsies! Feel free to steal and pass it along, if thou dost wish!

Tagging @dat-silvers-girl, @annabelle-tanaka-official, @angellazull, @lifeofkaze, @samshogwarts, @drinkyoursoupbitch, @kc-needs-coffee, @cursed-ice-spirits, @thatravenpuffwitch, @cursebreaker-lilith, @cursebreakerfarrier, and @cursebreakerelmswood! 💖💛💙💚

What HPHM characters (or MCs) could you see your MC dating, in an AU? What would their relationship be like? Why did you ultimately decide not to go with that ship, or do you still hold a torch for it?

My answers for my girl Carewyn are under the cut!!

(Sorry, I couldn’t resist starting with a recycled doodle of my canon ship, the HMS Carion. 🥰)

Andre Egwu

Alright, right off the bat, we should discuss Carewyn’s canon ex, Andre. Carewyn and Andre attended the Celestial Ball and dated until their fifth year, breaking up right after the All-Wizard tournament. Fortunately despite their break-up, they’ve stayed on good terms and still greatly respect each other -- but truthfully, I never intended for them to be a long-term match in any universe. If you’d like to read more about why Carewyn/Andre didn’t work out, you can consult this analysis, but to put it very simply, Andre was someone Carewyn admired deeply, but couldn’t ever be completely herself around. And from a personal perspective, my parents are one of those rare couples who remained friends even after divorcing, and I’ve always found their relationship really fascinating, as no one can deny they do still sincerely love and admire each other, even if it’s no longer romantically. Carewyn and Andre know each other in a way no one else does, so it gives their friendship a depth that it didn’t have before -- so unlike with a lot of relationships, their bond actually strengthened after they broke up, rather than falling apart.

Bill Weasley

In Carewyn’s canon, Bill ends up becoming Carewyn’s best friend. Although at the start, their relationship had much more of a surrogate big brother/little sister dynamic, over time the two ended up on much more equal terms, both as Cursebreaker partners and as unofficial “parents” for the rest of their friend group. Bill is Carewyn’s right-hand man both while dealing with the Cursed Vaults and while leading the Circle of Khanna, and even though Carewyn wants nothing to do with Cursebreaking after dealing with the Vaults, she’ll still drop everything to help Bill with his work, should he need her. Bill is the one who came up with the nickname “Carey” for Carewyn, and he’s also arguably the friend who understands Carewyn best after the death of Rowan, given the similarities in their personalities and how long they’ve known each other. I actually did write out a post guessing what a romantic relationship between these two might’ve been like if they’d become a thing, but honestly, I’ve never really shipped these two. Carewyn may not be entirely based on me (she’s got elements of my mum too), but one aspect of the wish fulfilment for me early on was that my girl could have a ride-or-die best friend like Ron was for Harry in the original Potter books. In the end, that friend ended up being Bill, Ron’s eldest brother and a character I loved when I first read the books and only became fonder of through the game. And honestly, we could really use more sincerely loving, but completely platonic male-female friendships that never bump up against romance!!

Talbott Winger

Talbott and Carewyn are truly “birds of a feather,” though one would never know it based on their respective masks. Talbott is the sort to put a gruff facade on to hide his more sensitive feelings, while Carewyn is the sort to put on a pretty face to hide her angrier and sadder feelings. Underneath, though, they both are stubborn, intelligent, and distrustful people with a strong desire to fight evil and a creative spirit. After becoming an Animagus, Carewyn would frequently fly around the school grounds with Talbott in robin form, singing songs for both herself and Talbott, and even though Talbott teased her about it, he did sincerely enjoy it. Carewyn loves reading Talbott’s poetry, and Talbott is also one of the few people who can get Carewyn to laugh a lot, since their senses of humor line up really well. Last but not least, they become a lawyer and an Auror post-Hogwarts, so they end up working together A LOT, especially post-War. I did write a prompt once about what a Talbott/Carewyn romance would be like, and I admit, I could see them being a relatively good couple, particularly since I headcanon both of them as being on the ace spectrum. That being said, though, I ultimately didn’t go with Talbott for Carewyn for two reasons. One, I thought they’d be too similar in a lot of ways (most notably, they’re way too friggin’ serious -- give each of these two some sunshine, will you??) -- and two, on a much more superficial note, Talbott was so popular that I kind of hesitated before having Carewyn ask him out. (Plus come on, for that date, how much of a b*tch would you have to be to break Andre’s heart and then snatch up an outfit he made for you to wear on a date with his dormmate?! Just -- COME ON.)

Chiara Lobosca

When I first started playing HPHM, I strongly considered shipping my girl with Chiara, once she broke up with Andre. From the moment Chiara and Carewyn met, Carewyn just knew she had to know Chiara better, and that ended up being because -- thanks to her latent Legilimency potential -- she could subconsciously sense that Chiara and she were similar in a lot of ways. Most importantly, Chiara was very lonely and desperately longed for a friend, which reminded Carewyn of how lonely her pre-Hogwarts life was, especially after Jacob disappeared. Once Carewyn earned Chiara’s trust, Carewyn proved herself to be a very loyal friend, even learning how to become a robin Animagus so she could keep Chiara company and cheer her up with twittered songs during full moons. Both Carewyn and Chiara are sensitive “Healer” type personalities (though Chiara is a bit more literal of one) who fight against their own crippling self-loathing to try to nurture others. This, in the end, though, is why I hesitated on making them official and why I’m ultimately glad I didn’t. Like Talbott, Chiara in some ways is too similar to Carewyn, and I think in a romantic relationship, they wouldn’t grow as much as people through their interactions. I did come up with quite a few ideas about what their relationship might be like -- but ultimately I couldn’t help but feel that Carewyn’s happy ending couldn’t just be about peace, but about finding someone who could challenge and contrast her.

Diego Caplan

This started off as a crack ship for me before actually gaining some legs and becoming Chiara/Carewyn’s main opponent, when it came to my debate with myself regarding Carewyn’s romantic future. In contrast to Chiara, Diego is pretty much Carewyn’s complete opposite. Carewyn is a planner. Diego is spontaneous. Carewyn is meticulous. Diego is flirtatious. Carewyn is serious. Diego is anything but. Carewyn is ace. Diego I headcanon as pan. And yet they both have their romantic and creative sides and are both seasoned fighters and loyal friends. Diego would definitely be able to bring some levity to Carewyn’s life, while Carewyn could bring some grounding to Diego’s. Diego even has a cute little nickname for Carewyn from their time in the Circle of Khanna: “general!” In short, these two would be perfect leads in a rom-com chick flick. But this, ultimately, ended up being why I hesitated on making them official and why I’m ultimately glad I didn’t. Diego/Carewyn is a ship that could really only bloom and blossom under fair conditions, and I had trouble seeing Diego being equipped to deal with Carewyn’s darker emotions or even her more intellectual bent. Just like with Chiara, I came up with plenty of ideas about how these two could be as a couple -- but I really felt as though Carewyn needed more than just “fun” as a happy ending. And ultimately, this conflict between peace VS fun ended up coming to an end when I discovered Carewyn/Orion, as Orion could provide Carewyn with both.

Jae Kim

Okay, honestly? When I first encountered Jae as a character, I didn’t think he and Carewyn would have anything in common, but in a weird way, they sort of subvert their respective house’s stereotype by exhibiting values from the other’s house! Gryffindors are seen as these rash, reckless, show-off hero types, but Jae showcases a lot of Slytherin-worthy cleverness, resourcefulness, and disregard for rules and what others think of him. Slytherins are seen as these cold, cruel, ambitious villain types, but Carewyn showcases a lot of Gryffindor-worthy courage, nobility, and selflessness. And so even though Jae is generally a rulebreaker and Carewyn is generally a rule-follower, when circumstances made it ideal for them to be on good business terms (namely, working in detention together and Carewyn needing an ally who knows Knockturn Alley and Jae needed an ally who was a Prefect), they soon found a lot of common ground. Add to that how much Carewyn encourages Jae’s cooking talent while respecting his privacy, and it’s little wonder that post-Hogwarts, when Jae opens up his own pub on the border of Diagon Alley and Knockturn Alley, the two still meet up very frequently to swap news from their respective corners of the world. I admittedly don’t know how well Carewyn’s job as a magical lawyer would be conducive to her being anything other than friends with Jae, and I don’t think they’d ultimately have many interests in common, so I do much prefer them as friends, but their dynamic is full of fun contrasts!

Ben Copper

Hahaha, oh god. So. Obviously Ben in-game is still very polarizing, but in my canon, Ben and Carewyn’s relationship is really complex and honestly one of my absolute favorite friendships for my girl. Ben was one of Carewyn’s very first friends, so he -- like Rowan, Bill, and Penny -- knows Carewyn in a way few others do. He befriended her before she became known as the poised, perfect Slytherin “Mama Bear,” but unlike her other friends, he was a bit disappointed by her abrupt transformation between her third and fourth years. While those like Bill, Penny, and Andre saw it as Carewyn coming into her own, Ben noticed how much Carewyn put herself “over” the rest of her friends, becoming their protector more than their equal, and Ben lamented it, disliking how he felt like a responsibility to Carewyn more than her friend. But Ben kept those feelings inside, not knowing how to properly express them when he did still cherish Carewyn’s friendship. After the events in the Portrait Vault, Ben went through his own dramatic change, and Carewyn sure enough didn’t end up liking it any better than Ben had liked hers. But ultimately the two had a heart-to-heart and realized that they both had become very different people than the kids who’d befriended each other in first year. After Rowan’s death and the formation of the Circle of Khanna, the two reforged their friendship on more equal terms. I did actually write out an AU roleplay where Ben and Carewyn’s confrontation in Jacob’s room ended up hinting Ben/Carewyn, but I ultimately think that the people they ultimately become are way too different to be a great romantic match. It makes their friendship fascinating, as it makes you wonder how such a tall, suspicious, reckless Gryffindor ever befriended such a poised, methodical, lady-like Slytherin...but even if they do feel a lot of deep platonic love for each other and I personally headcanon Ben being on the ace spectrum like Carewyn, I ultimately think they’d have very different dreams in mind for their future and would each need something different in a romantic partner.

Barnaby Lee

Barnababy!! 💚 Yeah, Barnaby Lee is my personal favorite HPHM character, and yet I have never really shipped him seriously with Carewyn, even though I love their relationship and could see potential chemistry. Barnaby and Carewyn are both amazingly sensitive, loyal, and modest Slytherins with a love of magical creatures and a strong sense of honor, but they also contrast each other in some fun ways too. Carewyn may put on a happy face a lot, but she’s actually rather pessimistic. Barnaby’s unblinkingly optimistic and he wouldn’t even dream of putting on a mask to hide his feelings. Then of course there’s the fact that Carey-Bear is this tiny and rather physically weak thing, while Barnaby is a perfectly dashing tank. 😂 Barnaby and Carewyn are both protective of each other, as seen by Barnaby throwing himself in front of Carewyn to shield her from an Imperiused Rowan’s spell and Carewyn verbally tearing into Ismelda when she learned she planned to use a Love Potion on him. Barnaby was the one who really taught Carewyn about how deceiving appearances can be, and Carewyn was the one who really taught Barnaby about how generous and selfless friendship could be, so they both respect each other a lot. For all that respect, though, there’s a significant slant to their relationship. Carewyn supports Barnaby emotionally infinitely more than she would ever let him support her, so their dynamic comes across as very “mother/son”-like rather than complete equals. Plus, honestly, I think Barnaby and Carewyn’s dreams for their respective futures -- namely, to be a magizoologist traveling the world and to be a magical lawyer for the Ministry of Magic -- don’t match up in the least bit. I could also see Barnaby wanting a large family, and Carewyn has no interest in bearing children herself and would prefer a quieter home life.

30 notes · View notes

carewyncromwell · 3 years

Text

[Ficlet] We Can Beat Them Forever and Ever

Yep, another ficlet based on Quidditch Season 1, which focuses on the beginnings of the Carewyn/Orion relationship! 💚 This one actually centers around the actual match (chapter 7-8), though if you’d like to read the previous parts based on chapter 5 and 6, you can read those here and here! Carewyn and Orion only become a couple post-Hogwarts (and post-Second-Wizarding-War, for that matter!), but it’s been really fun kind of charting their beginnings, so that one can have a more complete picture of where they started and therefore how they ended up. This may be a platonic relationship at the moment, but even at this point when these two are babies (13 and 15, what!), they still have such fun platonic chemistry.

If you don’t want to read the previous parts, then as usual, here are the basic clip notes -- my girl Carewyn “Not-Yet-Mama-Bear” Cromwell is a third year Slytherin; the Quidditch crew is in their fourth year; Orion doesn’t have his facial hair yet because of course not; and this will ultimately be Carewyn’s only Quidditch match this year and only one of two in her entire school career (if you’d like to follow that second match, you can always consult the Quest for the Quidditch Cup tag!).

Hope you enjoy...and please consider commenting and reblogging if you enjoy it! I hope to include this as part of a masterpost chronicling my writings for the Carion relationship soon, so watch out for that too! xoxo

x~x~x~x

Carewyn didn’t think she’d ever feel more pressured than when she was dealing with the Vaults -- but abruptly becoming something of an unofficial Quidditch Captain just before Slytherin’s big match definitely provided stiff competition.

Following Orion’s instructions, she didn’t tell any of her friends about what was wrong. She did her best to put on a brave face, but she could tell that Rowan, Ben, Bill, and Charlie thought something was up. She felt so relieved that Andre didn’t seem to, so she ended up spending a bit more time with him during the next Quidditch friendly. His confidence was comforting in a weird way, especially since he never tried to ask her if anything was wrong.

With only three days remaining until the match, Carewyn knew she was going to need to come up with something fast -- and after practice that day, McNully pulled her aside into the Changing Room to talk to her. He’d heard about Slytherin’s “bait and switch” strategy from Orion himself, and although he granted that it was “typical Orion” and clearly wasn’t thought through in the slightest, he didn’t seem as worried as Carewyn.

“Look, for as rash and weird as it seems, it isn’t completely out of left field,” he told her. “You do have something of a mediating presence, but you’re also assertive. Orion’s got some pretty big expectations on his shoulders, as the youngest Captain in over a century, and everyone’s sort of been pulling him in different directions...me included,” he added a bit sheepishly. “...From what I gather, he wants to listen to everyone and make them feel represented and heard -- but at the same time, he’s team captain, and he wants people to trust his judgment too, even the players who were part of the team before he was Captain. And the odds he’ll be able to do both at the same time is somewhere around 16%. But you’re the sort to really value other people’s feelings, just like he is. You’re sensitive enough to want to include everybody, but you also have a good head on your shoulders and you’re sharper than most. What you lack in Quidditch experience, you make up for in sincerity, and you’re willing to put in the work to learn what you don’t know.”

McNully smiled.

“Honestly, I reckon Orion made a pretty good choice, in using you as a sounding board. You respect his judgment and will do right by him as Captain, but you can still kind of ‘check’ him somewhat, on those things he might overlook.”

Carewyn actually felt her shoulders relaxing slightly. She offered him a smile.

“...Thanks, McNully,” she said quietly. “I appreciate it.”

McNully’s smile broadened. “Good to hear it. We can’t have you getting too nervous before the match -- Hufflepuff’s already noticed it.”

Carewyn blinked. “They what?”

McNully crossed his arms, his expression becoming a bit more grim. “I overheard the Hufflepuffs talking after their own practice. Apparently Ulrich Dylan thinks that the ‘little girl’ Orion picked is losing her nerve. That’s why he was watching you even more at your practice today -- he’s hoping he can rattle you even more, thinking about how you’re going to have to go one-on-one against him.”

Carewyn’s eyes drifted away and she frowned. The Hufflepuff Captain was about three times her size -- so he thought that her nerves was because she was scared of him?

“Don’t let him get to you, though, Carewyn,” said McNully firmly. “Sure, Dylan’s the strongest link on the Hufflepuff team, and he’s brilliant at what he does...but I already told you, physicality is only a percentage of a player’s overall potential, and a low one at that, compared to strategy...”

“He’s not getting to me,” said Carewyn, and she was being completely honest.

She considered this for another moment, her fist resting over her mouth as her eyes drifted. Then her lips spread into a rather wicked smirk.

“McNully...when you next talk to Orion in class, will you tell him how worried you are about me?”

~~~

Carewyn was very pleased by how fast the rumors circulated. By the next day, just about everyone was talking about how Orion’s newest pick for the team had an emotional breakdown in the Changing Room after their last practice. The students on the Hufflepuff team clearly had caught wind of it too -- they were giving her the side-eye a lot over the next day and sharing knowing looks amongst themselves. Ulrich Dylan even made a point to stop in front of Carewyn in the halls at one point, towering over her for a long moment and blocking her from walking any further before innocently wishing her luck and walking away.

Trying to accent how much bigger he is than me again, Carewyn thought drolly.

She did feel guilty about Rowan and Bill pretty quickly rushing to coddle her and practically suffocate her with reassurance...but at the same time, it felt kind of nice, considering that she was nervous for a completely different reason.

Carewyn arrived at the Changing Room about a hour early. When she arrived, she found Orion meditating on one of the benches, his hands clasped in front of him.

“Hi, Orion,” she said gently.

Orion opened his eyes.

“Greetings, Carewyn Cromwell,” he murmured.

His face was not as pleasant as it usually was. His eyes grazed her face, almost searching for something.

Carewyn glanced over her shoulder to make sure no one was outside the tent. Then she offered him a guilty smile and came over to sit next to him on the bench, her eyes resting on the floor rather than him.

“Orion, I’m really sorry,” she started. “What McNully told you -- ”

“No, Carewyn,” said Orion at once. “I believe it is I who should be sorry.”

“No, you shouldn’t -- ” Carewyn tried again.

But Orion held up a hand to stop her.

“I’m sure my decision must have seemed strange to you -- reckless, even,” he said quietly. “But I assure you, I was sincere when I said I was content in making it. Now, however, I find my spirit a bit unsettled.”

Carewyn felt her stomach crumpling up in shame. “Orion, it’s okay, I’m -- ”

“I placed a weight that was on my shoulders on yours,” Orion cut her off cleanly, “for it seemed to me that you’re the sort who takes strength from doing what must be done, for the good of all. But instead, it’s upset your own internal balance. And that, in turn, has greatly upset mine...”

“Orion, listen.”

Carewyn actually got up and took both of his shoulders so as to force him to look at her. The physical contact startled Orion so much that he rather resembled a cat with its hair on end.

“I’m okay,” she told him very firmly. She tried to offer him a smile, even if she still felt so guilty. “I’m really sorry I couldn’t explain earlier, but you said we shouldn’t discuss your plan outside the Changing Room, and I can never find you anywhere else in the school whenever I try to look for you. I’m really sorry I told McNully to tell you I was upset...but I needed you to react badly, at least at first, if my strategy is going to work.”

Orion blinked very slowly in a manner that made him resemble an owl. Then his eyes grew a little smaller, almost confused, as he considered her.

“...Perhaps you should tell me more about this ‘strategy’ of yours.”

Carewyn released his shoulders, taking a heavy breath.

“McNully told me that Ulrich Dylan thinks I’m scared of him.”

“Many in your position would be,” said Orion.

“Maybe others would be, but I’m not,” huffed Carewyn, crossing her arms rather haughtily. “I’ve been small my whole life. If I was scared of everyone who was bigger than me, I’d be scared all the time.”

The very slightest flicker of amusement touched Orion’s eyes, but it didn’t seem quite enough to lighten his face.

Carewyn grew more serious.

“From what I’ve heard from McNully, and from how the Hufflepuff team’s acted around me in the halls after hearing I had a breakdown, I reckon they see me as the ‘weak link’ of the Slytherin team. That means they’ll be trying to go after me, so as to pull the rest of us apart. And it makes sense. No one can get a good fix on you, particularly since this is your first match as Captain...and the other houses think we Slytherins don’t play fair, so they’ll probably be expecting the more experienced players to try to pull one over on them. But I’m the least experienced, the youngest, the smallest, and -- as far as everyone else knows -- the most fragile. Right now I’m the best possible ‘weakness’ Hufflepuff might be able to exploit.”

She smiled.

“That means, though, that Hufflepuff’s focus will be solely on me, and less on the rest of you. And if I keep letting them underestimate me...let them think I’m this scared little girl who’s stumbled into the big leagues...then I can throw off their center of balance when I play perfectly in the match. And if I can play perfectly...well...what does that say about the rest of our team, who weren’t those weak links? The Hufflepuffs will doubt their own judgment so much that they won’t be able to focus on their goal properly.”

Orion’s eyes seemed to clear as he brought up a hand to his chin thoughtfully. “I see...so you hope to make us appear off-balance, so that we can in turn be at an advantageous position to put our opponents off-balance.”

“Yeah,” said Carewyn.

Her expression became more ashamed again as she looked down at her own feet, dangling off the bench in front of her.

“I’m really, really sorry I upset you. I might not entirely get why you decided to have me call the shots for this, but...well, I meant what I sang. ‘I’ll do my very best, and it ain’t no lie,’” she sang a bit more sweetly, “‘if you put me to the test, if you let me try...’”

Carewyn’s singing seemed to soften Orion’s expression further. He smiled slightly at her.

“I accepted your apology the first time you made it, Carewyn Cromwell. Though it was easier to do, after our minds melded properly.”

He unclasped his hands, resting them on either side of him on the bench.

“...As for your role in this match...I chose you because you didn’t want to be chosen. Just like you don’t want to break curses, and yet you still do.”

Carewyn glanced at him out the side of her eye.

“How do you know I don’t like breaking curses?” she asked coolly.

“It seems to me that someone who likes being known for cursebreaking wouldn’t lose the light in their eyes whenever anyone brings it up.”

Carewyn was momentarily left speechless. When Orion glanced at her, she avoided his eyes.

“As a side,” Orion said levelly, “you may wish to apologize to Skye as well. Her internal balance was also shaken, when she heard the rumors.”

Carewyn felt her shoulders slump. Oh great.

“Don’t worry,” Orion reassured her. “She took out her anger on me, not our opponents. As is proper.”

“I’m sorry I troubled both of you,” muttered Carewyn. “I didn’t want to hurt your friendship...”

Orion shook his head with a smile. “You have nothing to be sorry for. All families have their disagreements, so I’ve heard -- and that includes Quidditch families. And yet they’re worth preserving, wouldn’t you say?”

Carewyn couldn’t keep back a small smile. “Mm-hmm.”

She glanced at Orion, her blue eyes a little softer.

“...It’s really cool, that you’ve made a second family for yourself here at school,” she said. “I really love my friends too...so I reckon it’s got to make things a lot less lonely, while you’re here.”

Orion’s eyes grew a little deeper, almost pensive.

“Indeed,” he said slowly. “Only...my family here is no ‘second’ for me.”

Carewyn looked up, startled. She stared into Orion’s deep black eyes for a long moment, trying to read his expression as she took in this information. Then, little by little, her entire expression seemed to melt. All hints of a smile or humor were gone, and her eyes had welled up with pain -- so much so that one might think she was grieving a loss of her own, rather than simply showing pity.

“...Do you...not have a family, Orion?” she said, her voice a mere ghost of its usual self.

Orion’s hands clasped lightly again in his lap as he considered her.

“Not one forged by blood,” he said lowly. His features then softened with the traces of a small smile. “But just because I’m parent-free doesn’t mean I have no family. As I’ve said, Quidditch gave me a family. Therefore my teammates are my family. You are my family.”

Carewyn was genuinely touched -- but she still couldn’t help but feel awful for Orion. As small and broken as her family was, she loved her brother and mother more than anyone else in the world. She couldn’t imagine how she’d function, if anything happened to either of them. As lonely as her childhood had been, she’d still had them. Jacob was still there to protect her from bullies and inspire her with his dreams. Lane was still there to teach and encourage her. But Orion didn’t even have that.

How lonely must his summer holidays be, with no one there waiting for him at Platform 9 3/4? she couldn’t help but think.

Carewyn had to tear her eyes off of Orion’s face and refocus her gaze on her feet -- she knew she probably looked really upset, and she didn’t like showing it so blatantly.

“...Do...I mean...does the rest of our ‘family’ know?” she asked quietly.

Orion’s eyes became a little smaller. “Only Skye and McNully. But I do not tell you this to make you feel sad, Carewyn. I’m telling you this because I want you to trust me. Many doubt my methods, but there is a reason why I was named Slytherin Quidditch Captain. On the path I have traveled, there is no one to follow...and so you lead. You keep a clear head because survival depends on it. You do not question where your decisions will take you because you have no destination. You listen to your heart first because its beat is more stable than the world around you.”

He smiled wryly, turning his gaze out toward the rest of the tent as he leaned back slightly.

“You could say I’ve been Inspired Broom Surfing through life -- and it hasn’t let me down yet.”

Carewyn felt herself smiling again, even with her eyes still downcast.

Trust isn’t really something I can do, but...

“You really are a cool person, Orion Amari,” she said softly. “And a good one, too.”

Orion’s smile spread and opened, showing white teeth. “And you are a Snidget of a person, Carewyn Cromwell. Small and seemingly fragile in appearance, yes -- but a rare creature that is quick, bright, and fearless.”

He seemed to hesitate, his black eyes drifting down to her shoulder absently. Then, looking as if he’d changed his mind about something, he returned his gaze to her face, even if it was still turned away from him.

“I have faith your heart will lead you well -- as well as us to victory -- if you merely listen to it.”

At that very moment, Skye came into the tent. At the sight of Carewyn and Orion sitting on the bench together, she immediately barreled over to them.

“I damn well hope you were apologizing to Carewyn and telling her you weren’t going to make her do your job for you, Orion,” she said at once, her eyes narrowing fiercely.

Orion raised his eyebrows coolly, his hands clasping in front of him again. “I would have, had Carewyn not already done what I asked of her.”

Skye did a doubletake. “What?”

Carewyn felt guilt prickling at the back of her neck again, and she was completely unable to look Skye in the face. “Let me explain...”

~~~

Skye wasn’t quite as quick to forgive Carewyn’s deception as Orion was, but she begrudgingly accepted it when she had to acknowledge that her plan to mislead Hufflepuff was rather clever.

“Well, we are Slytherins,” she’d said with a grin. “May as well own it.”

When the rest of the team arrived, Carewyn asked them to meet her in front of the blackboard. Once McNully had joined them too, she felt ready to explain her idea more fully.

“Okay...so...” She took a deep breath, her eyes hovering vaguely over the others’ heads rather than making eye contact. “We only have two days left before the match against Hufflepuff. I’ve done a lot of thinking and research, and this is what I’ve come up with.”

Taking out her wand, she copied the movement she’d seen McNully use. In seconds, a diagram of different yellow and green circles spread out across a makeshift “Quidditch Pitch” appeared on the board. Two of the circles, one yellow and one green, had stars in the center of them. Each of the green circles had arrows that pointed to one or more yellow circles. The smallest green circle had several arrows pointed right at the largest yellow circle with the star inside, which was in front of the goal hoops.

“From what I’ve heard from my friend Penny, Ulrich Dylan is a very ‘what-you-see-is-what-you-get’ sort of person. He’s upfront and honest and doesn’t see the need to hide what he’s doing. That’s why he’s not afraid of letting us see him when he comes to watch our practices. He’s confident enough in his own talents that he’ll favor physical skill over strategy. And well, yeah, he is good. I saw him in the matches last year -- he’s really strong and agile. Ravenclaw wasn’t able to score a single point in their match against him last year -- if it wasn’t for Erika Rath taking out their Seeker, Hufflepuff probably would’ve won.”

Skye crossed her arms. “Dylan may be stronger than you, but he’s not agile enough to beat Orion, you, and me when we’re flying together. And Hufflepuff’s Chasers are a joke -- the Parkin’s Pincer can more than take them out...”

Carewyn pursed her lips. She didn’t like being interrupted -- she had to take a minute to regather her thoughts.

“...Yeah. But we won’t be using the Parkin’s Pincer -- at least, not right away.”

Skye looked confused. “Huh?”

“Let her explain,” King soothed Skye. She gave Carewyn an encouraging nod. “Go on, Carewyn.”

Carewyn gave King a short, grateful nod in return. Her eyes drifting back to the board, she took a deep breath before continuing.

“...Everyone’s expecting us to use the Parkin’s Pincer. They know Ethan Parkin will be in the stands watching us play...and they’re expecting the more experienced members of our team,” she nodded to Orion, Skye, and the two Beaters, “to take the lead. We should use the Parkin’s Pincer, of course -- it’s a brilliant move, and it’s a classic for a reason. But before we do...we need to throw Hufflepuff off their game first. We need to use our brains as well as our brawn -- especially when brains is something Hufflepuff’s Captain isn’t using as much of.”

She glanced at McNully out the side of her eye.

“So...if it’s all right with you, McNully...may Orion, Skye, and I use your Thimblerig Shuffle, during the match?”

McNully grinned from ear to ear, his eyes lighting up. “But of course, Carewyn! I may play the impartial spectator, but we all know that’s for show.”

Carewyn beamed. “Good. But before we do that, there’s something else we have to do first.”

“Something else?” recurred Skye. “Carewyn, will you get to the point already? You’re going on nearly as long as Orion...”

Carewyn couldn’t fight back a miffed pout. “I’m getting to it!”

“Calm yourself, Skye,” said Orion serenely. “All will become clear soon enough.”

He nodded to Carewyn, and she returned the gesture before returning her focus to the board.

“Every team is made up of links, some stronger than others,” she explained. “For Gryffindor, their strongest link is their Seeker, Charlie Weasley -- their weakest is their Keeper. For Ravenclaw, their strongest link is Erika Rath -- their weakest is their new Seeker. For Hufflepuff, their strongest link is Ulrich Dylan -- their weakest are their Chasers. For Slytherin, our strongest link is Orion -- and as far as everyone else thinks, I’m our weakest.”

Her lips spread into a smirk.

“That’s why I’m the one who has to go up against Ulrich Dylan.”

McNully and the rest of the team excluding Orion all looked taken aback and confused. “What?!”’

“But Carewyn,” said McNully, “you said it yourself -- Hufflepuff’s weakest link are its Chasers. The Thimblerig Shuffle would be a much better choice to help you take them out -- hell, the Parkin’s Pincer too...”

Carewyn shook her head. “Hufflepuff’s only going after our supposed ‘weakest link’ because I’m the only part of our team they think they can take advantage of. Plus they probably think we Slytherins play dirty enough that we will go after their weakest players first. But we’re doing the unexpected...”

She grinned at Orion.

“...so we’re not going after their weakest link. We’re going after their strongest, so that he becomes their weakest link.”

She indicated the tiny green circle on the board beside the biggest yellow one.

“Dylan thinks that I’m this nervous little girl on a second-hand broom who’s scared of going up against someone as big and strong as him...and now the entire school does too. We’ll keep it that way all the way up until the match -- maybe even during the match, at least at first. Then, when the time is right, I’ll spring the trap on Dylan. In a second, he’ll suddenly be faced with a real opponent, instead of the scared little girl he expects. His center of balance will be shaken so badly that the rest of his team will be thrown off too.”

“Like aftershocks from an earthquake,” said Orion, his black eyes very bright with approval, “the entire Hufflepuff team will feel the devastation wrought by their Captain losing his stability.”

Carewyn nodded. “And once the Hufflepuffs start falling apart, we can latch ourselves onto individual members to cancel them out. Orion, Skye, and I can take out the Chasers with the Thimblerig Shuffle and the Parkin’s Pincer, while Crockett prevents them from scoring any points...and King and Shacklebolt can keep the Bludgers pointed at Dylan and Hufflepuff’s Seeker so that Hufflepuff’s Beaters can’t hit them at us and so that Lucky has free range to catch the Snitch herself.”

The rest of the team’s faces all suddenly appeared much brighter too. McNully was beaming with pride.

“Carewyn, that’s fantastic!” he cheered. “If the match follows this trajectory, I’d say there’s a 96.5% chance that Slytherin will win by a large margin. You really have mastered Quidditch strategy!”

Skye looked awfully proud too as she looked from the board to down at the tiny ginger-haired Chaser. “I have to admit, Carewyn, this is smashing. It really sounds like it could work!”

Orion, however, looked the proudest of all of them as he came up on the opposite side of the board as Carewyn, his black eyes gleaming as he smiled down at her.

“We shall have to play our parts to aid this ruse as long as possible,” he addressed the others. “When we go out onto the Pitch today and tomorrow, practice as you always do, but be aware of any audience we may have. And as before, discuss none of this outside the Changing Room, nor around anyone who is not already present. Now that all of our strengths have been pooled together...” he glanced at Carewyn with a bright white smile, “...we can place our faith in each other, and in ourselves.”

~~~

The day of the match was bright and sunny, but cold beyond reason. Carewyn was honestly kind of glad that she could forego the pre-match party Penny hosted, for the sake of bolstering the ruse that she was nervous but trying not to show it -- she much preferred the idea of staying indoors with her friends than freezing outside with complete strangers asking her pointed questions about the match and the Slytherin team.

Before heading out to meet the rest of her team in the Changing Room, Bill had gone all “Papa Bear” on Carewyn and made sure she put on one of his old Weasley sweaters on before heading out to the Pitch to change into her Quidditch robes.

“I know it’s big,” he said through an embarrassed flush, “but the last thing you need is to freeze when you’re playing out there.”

Carewyn carefully rolled up the sleeves of Bill’s old sweater, smiling up at him gratefully. “Thank you, Bill.”

Rowan looked concerned too. “Are you sure you’re going to be okay, Carewyn? You’re not still worried about the Hufflepuff Captain, are you?”

Carewyn gave her best friend a small smile. “Don’t worry, Rowan...I’ll be okay.”

“Of course you will,” Bill said firmly, his lips spreading into a smile too. “After all, Dylan’s a good head shorter than that Ice Knight you beat last year.”

“You mean we beat last year,” said Carewyn, glancing from Bill to Ben with a smile.

"You did most of the work, though, Carewyn,” said Ben with a self-conscious smile. “I don’t blame you for being scared of Dylan, though -- he is kind of intimidating...”

“Yes, but Carewyn can handle herself out there,” said Penny brightly. “Right, Carewyn?”

“Mm...”

Carewyn had to keep herself from reassuring her friends too much for the sake of her strategy -- after all, Penny was a Hufflepuff, even if she wanted Carewyn to do her best -- but she still gave them all a big hug before heading out to the Pitch.

~~~

Before the match, Orion gathered everyone around the blackboard for something called a “moment of vivication.” According to McNully, it was his version of a pep talk -- and sure enough, it was full of typical “Orion-isms” that could make the average person tilt their head in utter bewilderment but that made his teammates smile and shake their heads.

“To win, we must believe we can win,” he’d said. “And we shall, for the greatest loss we can have is loss of focus. I am Quidditch -- you are Quidditch -- we are Quidditch.”

Eventually, though, he got to a point.

“The time is nearly here, my teammates,” said Orion. “Although you have followed me in all of our practices, as your Captain, remember that once we are in the air, we will follow Carewyn’s lead, when it comes to springing our trap. Use patience, when waiting for her. Defend Crockett and our hoops with tenacity, while you wait for her. Show her the loyalty a teammate deserves. And once the trap is sprung, we can set loose all of our fire against our opponents. Let us go to the Pitch and make Slytherin proud.”

The rest of the team cheered. Orion glanced at Skye, McNully, and then Carewyn, all of them smiling.

“Blimey,” said McNully, “I’d better get to the commentary box. Good luck, everyone -- give me something to talk about!”

He smiled at Carewyn. “Good luck out there, Carewyn -- dazzle me with that strategy of yours, all right?”

Carewyn nodded determinedly, and McNully wheeled himself out. Not long after he did, Madame Hooch came into the tent.

“Come along, Slytherins!” she said stridently. “It’s time.”

The Flying teacher and coach gave Carewyn a rather long look as the Slytherins lined up in position. Instead of speaking to her, however, she addressed Orion.

“Since this is your first match as Captain, Mr. Amari,” she said, “you’ll signal your team to take flight, when McNully announces you. You’ll enter from the left side of the Pitch -- the Hufflepuffs are already in position on the right.”

Orion nodded. “Thank you, Madame Hooch.”

“I’ll be very curious to see what you do, Mr. Amari,” she said brusquely. “And I’m sure everyone else will be as well.”

Orion looked around at his teammates with a smile, his eyes resting on Carewyn last, before he took the lead and headed out of the tent, the others behind him.

They strode up toward the Pitch, coming to a stop under the stands on the left-hand side. Neither the Hufflepuffs nor the audience were in view. Once Madame Hooch left, the team got into formation, with Orion, Skye, and Carewyn standing in a triangular shape at front.

“Well...here we go,” said Skye. She glanced at Carewyn. “We’re counting on you, Carewyn.”

Carewyn gave her bravest, most determined expression and nodded. She then faced forward, her eyes resting on the small strip of sunlight on the grass just past them, and waited.

She could hear the crowd gabbing loudly overhead. Her eyes drifted over her head absently.

Rowan, Bill, Charlie, Ben, Andre, and Penny would all be watching up there...she wasn’t sure if that made her feel better or worse.

“Find your center.”

Carewyn glanced at Orion. His expression was very gentle and his voice soothing.

Carewyn’s face softened with a smile, and she nodded. Facing forward again, she closed her eyes, took a deep breath in through her nose and out through her mouth...and began to sing quietly under her breath.

“I...I wish you could swim... Like the dolphins...like dolphins can swim... Though nothing...nothing will keep us together... Oh, we can beat them...forever and ever... We can be heroes...just for one day...”

When she was finished, she slowly opened her eyes and looked at the others. She’d expected to see some smiles -- what she hadn’t expected was just how bright and courageous all of their faces looked, nor how fond Orion’s smile would be.

The crowd roared overhead, and through the overwhelming cheers and applause, Carewyn caught the sound of McNully’s voice.

“Welcome, one and all, to the first Quidditch match of the season -- Hufflepuff versus Slytherin! Put your Pumpkin Pasties down and your hands together for Hufflepuff, led by returning captain Ulrich Dylan! Look at them fly!”

The excited sounds of the Hufflepuffs in the stands was deafening. Orion mounted his broom, and everyone else followed suit.

“And now for the Slytherin team, led by new team captain Orion Amari -- also featuring a new addition to the roster, Carewyn Cromwell, flying alongside Amari and Skye Parkin as Chaser!”

The Slytherins all took off in perfect unison and soared out onto the Pitch. Orion, typical to form, looked ridiculously confident while flying -- there were quite a few points, when they flew around the stands, that he didn’t even have his hands on his broom.

They moved into their starting positions, with the Chasers in front and the Keepers toward the back of the Pitch. Carewyn could feel all the Hufflepuffs’ eyes zeroing in on her -- she kept her focus on the frayed handle of her broom, thinking hard.

I should let Orion and Skye duke it out for the Quaffle at first, she thought. It’ll be more believable that I’m nervous if I’m hesitant to grab it. It might even look like I’m distracted.

She resisted the urge to look at Orion or Skye to try to communicate her thought process to them.

They know what we’re doing. Best keep your cards close to your chest.

“And here comes Madame Hooch, striding up the Pitch!” McNully’s voice rang out overhead. “The Bludgers are released, as is the Golden Snitch! Remember, everyone: the Snitch is worth 150 points -- when a Seeker catches it, the game is over.”

Madame Hooch gave both teams a rather discerning look as she took out the Quaffle. Then, without warning, she hurled it up into the air.

“The Quaffle is released -- and so starts the match!”

~~~

The match was stressful and exhilarating from the start. There was no sense of restraint or politeness here -- every team player’s eyes were as hard as diamonds with their concentration. It was enough to rattle most anyone: even Carewyn had to admit, everything was so much faster and felt so much more important than when she played Quidditch friendlies.

It’s no wonder people treat this game like it’s a matter of life and death, she thought, when you’re out here with seemingly the whole world watching you, waiting for you to fail...

She purposefully missed the Quaffle Orion passed to her, letting Skye double back to reclaim it. A little while later, she purposefully failed to steal it from one of Hufflepuff’s Chasers herself, and even took some time to get yelled at by Skye. (Skye honestly wasn’t that good at acting, but her looking angry was all that was really needed.)

“Looks like we’ve got a dispute between Star Chaser Skye Parkin and newcomer Carewyn Cromwell,” said McNully, his voice dripping with concern. “One can only hope that Cromwell can get her head in the game...”

Carewyn glanced across the Pitch in Ulrich Dylan’s direction -- he was grinning as he shouted something at his Chasers.

Sure enough, in the next round, the Hufflepuff Chasers seemed to decide that they were purposefully going to stick to Carewyn. Whenever Orion or Skye tried to get close to them, they passed the Quaffle or slipped out from under them.

“Hufflepuff has possession -- Groves passes to Polson, over Cromwell’s head -- ”

Carewyn caught sight of Skye flying up under them. Catching Carewyn’s eye briefly, she smirked -- then, in an instant, she’d swerved upward, bumping Polson from below.

“Whoa, Polson’s lost his balance and drops the Quaffle -- Quaffle’s just barely caught by Cromwell -- ”

Carewyn held the Quaffle under her arm, soaring off toward the goal hoops. She could feel all three of Hufflepuff’s Chasers bearing down on her, trying to cut her off from Orion and Skye. She hunched down on her broom, her eyes darting quickly around from each of the three Chasers to Ulrich Dylan smugly lounging in front of the goal hoops.

And Carewyn’s eyes narrowed.

Now.

Just as the three Hufflepuff Chasers were about to try to attempt the Parkin’s Pincer themselves, Carewyn sidestepped them completely by diving. The two Hufflepuffs who had tried to pin her both slammed into each other.

“WHOOOA! What’s this?!” cried McNully, unable to hold back his excitement. “A modified Wronksy Feint?! Looks like Cromwell’s been studying with Slytherin Seeker Lucky!”

Once she’d dodged the first two, Carewyn fixed her sights on the remaining Chaser, sweeping around him in a tight figure-eight and bumping his face lightly with the tail of her broom. Although the move had no strength and didn’t hurt, the Chaser still felt the urge to try to protect his face from the bristles, which made him absentmindedly let go of his broom with one hand and almost lose balance.

“And Cromwell pulls out a Chaser variant of the Double Eight Loop -- signature move of Slytherin Keeper Crockett!” cheered McNully.

The other two Hufflepuff Chasers, looking faintly stunned, had flown back up after Carewyn, trying to regroup. It was as they flew at her that Carewyn knew the time was right. She hoisted herself up onto her broom in a standing position, the Quaffle under her arm, and she broom surfed right around them.

“Inspired Broom Surfing, ladies and gentleman!” said McNully, as an awed sound moved over the crowd. “Signature move of Slytherin team captain Orion Amari! Cromwell’s still in possession, approaching Keeper Dylan -- ”

Carewyn fixed her sights on Dylan. The tall, chiseled Keeper was staring right at her, and yet it was obvious he didn’t see her clearly -- just as Orion had suggested, he was too distracted by her technique, and her abrupt switch had clearly thrown him for a loop.

Smirking from ear to ear, Carewyn chucked the Quaffle right to the side of Dylan’s head. Rather than block it, the Keeper felt the subconscious urge to dodge, so as to protect himself -- and so the Quaffle soared right through the hoop over his shoulder.

“AMAZING!” McNully had to shout over the sounds of the delighted roar of the Slytherins down below. “Cromwell completely sideswipes Dylan and scores Slytherin’s first goal! Hufflepuff leads 30-10! Looks like she’s not as fragile as she looks, folks!”

Carewyn took the time to lower herself back down onto her broom as Skye snatched up the Quaffle again and headed back toward the goal hoops. The turnover between rounds was so fast that Carewyn had little time to recover -- so she didn’t see the warm, proud smile on Orion’s face as he watched her fly off after Skye.

The trap was sprung, and the Slytherins immediately let Hufflepuff have it. King and Shacklebolt kept Hufflepuff’s Beaters from attacking their players by keeping the Bludgers aimed at their Seeker and Keeper. Crockett whipped out the Double Eight Loop himself to protect the Slytherin hoops from any more goals. And Orion, Skye, and Carewyn became an unbreakable unit, shaking Hufflepuff’s Chasers off with the Thimblerig Shuffle and then crushing them with the Parkin’s Pincer. By the time Lucky had caught the Snitch, McNully was struggling to keep his commentary unbiased, thanks to the excitement echoing through every word.

“THE SNITCH HAS BEEN CAUGHT! LUCKY CATCHES THE SNITCH! Slytherin wins 250-30! What a match!”

The Slytherin team all came down to land in the center of the Pitch. Carewyn immediately rushed over to the others, her face alight.

“We did it!” she said happily. “We did it!”

Lucky grinned from ear to ear. “No, Carewyn -- you did it!”

“Don’t be daft!” Carewyn said with a smile. “I couldn’t have won by my -- ahhh!”

She gave a start when she suddenly felt herself being hoisted up into the air -- both King and Shacklebolt had picked her up, their hands under her legs as they bobbed her up and down and cheered.

“Oh no!” yelped Carewyn, trying to weasel out of their grip, “No, no, no, put me down, please --”

She knew they were excited, but she absolutely did not like being grabbed and picked up out of nowhere.

It took Orion some time to calm his teammates enough to put her down. Once she’d gotten back on the ground, though, he actually couldn’t restrain himself from wrapping an arm around Carewyn’s shoulders, taking hold of one of them so he could squeeze her against his side. His face was alight with delight and pride.

“I knew my choice was the right one,” she just barely made him say over the sound of the cheering Slytherins. “You flew like a Snidget, Carewyn Cromwell.”

Carewyn flushed with pride around her smile. “Thanks, Orion.”

Orion’s eyes sparkled like the night sky, even in the middle of the day. "No, Carewyn -- thank you. For your faith.”

The memory of Orion and Carewyn together on the Pitch with their team, with Carewyn’s friends Rowan and Bill both hugging her tight and Skye whooping at the top of her lungs in Orion’s ear, was an image so strong and blazing that it helped Orion -- three years later, in Defense Against the Dark Arts -- conjure his very first Abraxan Winged Horse Patronus.

#hphm #hogwarts mystery #my writing #quidditch #orion amari #carewyn cromwell #skye parkin #murphy mcnully #bill weasley #ben copper #rowan khanna #charlie weasley #andre egwu #and that's it!#i kind of feel like leaving this on a high note rather than on carewyn leaving the team #at least for now #I mean honestly it's not as much to tell -- it's basically just carewyn shutting skye down when the rumors against rath start #and with the original chaser having finally recovered carey bear just bows out with grace #and admittedly in the following years she can't justify rejoining the team with the vaults looming over her #her brother has to always come first :<#but yeah orion and carewyn always had a really strong bond compared to the other members of the quidditch crew #orion really was so happy he got to fly alongside carewyn one more time before graduating #also yes I had carey use all of the quidditch crew's moves because honestly I hate that we had to pick just one #they all have their uses!!#in game I picked inspired broom surfing and had carey use her head to make the decision #largely because if she went with her heart she felt like it might be more likely to hurt someone's feelings #and in her head she thought that throwing off her opponents with an unexpected play made a lot of sense #plus also orion is our captain?? hello?? and he trusted MC to make this important decsion??#I dunno I kind of felt like it would be honorable to show that same respect in return XD

18 notes · View notes

carewyncromwell · 3 years

Note

Hello Tory! I hope i chose interesting questions for your characters, and also i'm hoping it's not too much for 1 ask :"D

Can i have 8, 43 and 50 for Carewyn; 26 and 37 for Jacob; and also 15 for both Lane and Jacob and 66 for Carewyn and Lane?

I wish you good day!🤍

Whew! These are all fantastic, sweetheart! 😘 Let's see now...

8. What is MC's weakness?

Carewyn has several, but the two big ones that tend to get her in trouble the most are her pride and her perfectionism, which often end up playing off each other in unpleasant ways. Carewyn has a lot of difficulty both accepting help from others and acknowledging that she needs help to begin with, and yet she also expects herself to do everything she tries perfectly. When she falls short of her own expectations, she then precedes to beat herself up about it forever, meaning she has a lot of unresolved self-loathing toward herself that she then feels all the more determined to mask and mitigate by doing things perfectly all on her own. And as you can imagine, that can become a cycle unless someone she loves steps in to remind her that everyone makes mistakes and it's not right that she abuse herself simply for being human.

43. What's MC's favorite summer activity?

Carewyn loves the ocean. When she was little, Jacob took her to the beach one summer, and she fell absolutely in love with the smell of the salty air and the sounds of the waves crashing upon the shore, and she spent most of the day with her shoes off, wading in the water. Now as an adult, it's one of her favorite places to visit with Orion and/or Erik and Eos.

50. What would MC think of you?

*chuckles darkly* I think Carewyn wouldn't love having anyone writing her story or the stories of the ones she loves, so she would definitely be uber mistrustful of me. If we're just talking personality-wise, she would probably be more okay with me -- I could see her being reminded of her other half Orion interacting with me, since both Orion and I are dreamy, philosophical, live-one-day-at-a-time INFP types. Plus we share a lot of musical interests in common.

26. What's MCs favourite part of the Creature Reserve? (Grasslands, Forest, etc.)

I could see Jacob liking the Dark Forest best -- a lot of the most dangerous and rarest creatures are there!

37. What is MC's most frequently used spell?

Reparo. Although Jacob's area of expertise is Transfiguration, he ends up using the Repairing Charm a lot, both because of things he fixed and otherwise -- he likes solving people's problems.

15. What is MC's element?

Jacob is fire, while Lane is air! I actually once did a set of ATLA-inspired moodboards for Carewyn, Jacob, and Lane delving into this.

66. Does MC have some habits?

Carewyn organizes her closet by naming every single piece in it and grouping them together with like-minded pieces. It's something both Jacob and later Bill tease her about.

Lane has books in just about every room in her house, which she'll leave in that room and only read in that room and in that specific spot. Her most infamous "book spot" is on the window ledge next to her armchair -- that book usually tends to be longer than the rest, since Lane loves reading by natural sunlight more than lamps and so will spend her days off reading in that chair for an hour at a time.

MC Ask!

#mc ask #carewyn cromwell #jacob cromwell #lane cromwell #about carewyn #about jacob #about lane

3 notes · View notes

carewyncromwell · 3 years

Note

Now that the Statue Curse has been broken, how's Olivia doing? Did she get freed? How was her reunion with Jacob and Duncan? What's the first thing she's gonna do after being unstonified? Is she gonna help take down R or is she sworn off Vaults because of her trauma? What's her reaction to finding out Duncan died and Jacob was trapped? Since she's still like 15, does this affect the way she and Jacob and Duncan interact because they're both older? How does she like Carey and co?

Heh, well, I admit, I don’t love how Jam City’s written everything to do with the Sunken Vault, so I feel like I’d probably rewrite a lot of it, depending on how year 6 ends. At this rate, I’m just tempted to make the Good!Rakepick AU my canon and be done with it. If I could just finish it already... >>;

To answer your questions in the event of the Statue Curse being broken and Olivia being freed, though...one thing I will say is that I’d want the Statue Curse being broken to basically be at the end of the story. If we have to deal with the remnants of R, fine, but I’d want the Cursed Vaults and their “treasure” to be completely dealt with. Not going into spoilers about how I want the Cetus to be defeated in that AU (for those of you who are still waiting for the finale -- I’m so sorrryyyyyyy DX), this is how I’d see things --

Upon waking up, Olivia was definitely very shaken when she first saw Jacob again, looking a good four years older than she’d last seen him. Duncan being a ghost was even more of a shock, but finding out exactly how much time had really passed was the most devastating. Olivia, who Duncan and Jacob had always known as this very unassuming, level-headed person, burst full-on into tears, screaming in grief and horror, and had trouble letting anyone get near her. Like Jacob and Duncan, her tragic fate played off of her own worst fear -- Jacob’s fear of tight spaces and being unable to move was reflected in being trapped in a Portrait, Duncan’s fear of being insignificant was reflected in dying young before he’d really accomplished anything, and Olivia’s fear of being irrelevant was reflected in her being “left behind” by all of her classmates and even her own younger siblings, who’d all outgrown her. Jacob, who’s never been as empathetic and nurturing as his sister Carewyn, had no idea how to comfort Olivia, and so all he could do was grab her and forcefully squeeze her in his shaking arms until she stopped crying, apologizing over and over through his own flood of tears. Duncan, since he couldn’t touch Olivia that well at all, merely hovered over the two, resting his cold, translucent hands just over their heads.

Because of the defeat of R and Duncan both playing a role in ending the threat of the Cursed Vaults once and for all and in having people who would mourn him when he was gone (Jacob, Olivia, and Carewyn), Duncan was finally able to pass on and rest in peace. Jacob burst into tears, devastated at the thought of losing Duncan all over again, and his boy best friend used all of the focus he could to become just corporeal enough to bring a hand up to Jacob’s face and kiss him on the lips before disappearing. With a bittersweet smirk, he instructed Olivia, Jacob, and Carewyn to “take their dear sweet time in joining him, or else!” Carewyn and Olivia hugged the sobbing, shaking Jacob for almost a half-hour after Duncan vanished, both crying silently themselves.

Olivia’s return to her family was rocky. Her parents, who had never stopped grieving her absence, were just grateful to have her back, but Olivia’s younger siblings -- now all significantly older than her and in some cases even having started families of their own -- couldn’t help but resent her for her risky behavior with the Vaults having put their family through so much heartache and trouble. Plus, since they were Muggles and she was the only magical child in the family, there’d already been a tension point of her being the “special” sibling in contrast to the others, and her return only brought that back in full-force. Olivia’s family relationship never really recovered, even if her parents still clearly loved her, and once Olivia came of age, she moved out and sort of fell out of touch with her siblings all together.

After going through a lot of therapy over the summer, Olivia returns to Hogwarts for her sixth year, one year under Jacob’s sister Carewyn, who of course is in her seventh year and Hogwarts’s new Head Girl. She ends up making good friends with Carewyn’s Ravenclaw friends Badeea Ali and Talbott Winger, as well as fellow Prefect and family black sheep Percy Weasley. Andre also helps poor Olivia a bit with her outdated 70′s fashion sense, because GIRL, we’ve started a new decade, get with the times. Olivia also stays in constant written contact with Jacob, who remains her best friend for the rest of their lives. Fortunately, even if she is still 16 and Jacob’s now 20, Olivia’s always been rather emotionally mature for her age and Jacob’s always been rather immature for his, so they’re still relatively like peers despite the age difference (not unlike how Carewyn and Bill are, actually!), and as the years go on, that age gap isn’t as significant. Olivia fortunately doesn’t have to deal with the Vaults anymore, and she most certainly doesn’t want to deal with either them or R ever again. Her trauma of being locked in the Statue Vault for so long makes it so she has just as little interest in cursebreaking for the rest of her life as Carewyn has, and even less interest in jumping into danger or fighting Dark wizards. Olivia also becomes rather fond of Carewyn, seeing her like a little sister even though Carey’s techically now a year older than her -- Carewyn herself, seeing a lot of similarities between Olivia and her mother Lane, grows to care for Olivia quite a bit too and keeps correspondence with her post-Hogwarts.

Olivia starts her seventh year the year Harry Potter starts his first, after having been chosen as Head Girl. She was one of the first students who sensed there was something “off” about the newly returned Professor Quirrell and discussed it with Snape, who she could tell was also suspicious, and Dumbledore, who rather predictably gave a lukewarm reaction to her concerns despite his own suspicions. When Hermione first came back up from the third floor corridor with the injured Ron to get help, she actually ran into Olivia first, who had taken on night patrol as Head Girl upon catching wind that Dumbledore had left Hogwarts on business. (Hey, after dealing with the Cursed Vaults and R, this girl had more than enough reason to think something bad might happen the instant Dumbledore wasn’t around.) Olivia rushed Hermione and Ron to the Hospital Wing while Hermione anxiously told her everything, only for the two to run into Dumbledore, who’d just returned to the school. Hermione tried to babble everything to Dumbledore too, including her misguided thought that Snape was behind it all, but Olivia had quickly put two-and-two together that it was Quirrell instead and calmly but firmly talked over Hermione, telling Dumbledore very shortly that “Potter has gone off alone to protect the Stone” so that the Headmaster could quickly rush to Harry’s aid. Olivia then brought Ron to the Hospital Wing and escorted Hermione back up to Gryffindor Tower, counseling the poor, terrified girl as best she could on their way back upstairs. Dumbledore later followed up with Hermione and Olivia after Harry was safe, and Olivia sent a letter along to Carewyn about the incident, since she knew Carewyn’s best friend was Ron’s eldest brother.

#ask me #olivia green #hphm #hogwarts mystery #jacob cromwell #jacob #carewyn cromwell #duncan ashe #albus dumbledore #severus snape #harry potter #ron weasley #hermione granger #quirinus quirrell #badeea ali #talbott winger #percy weasley

13 notes · View notes

carewyncromwell · 4 years

Photo

Welcome back to the POTC AU! Sorry for the day-long delay -- I was out and away from my computer almost all of yesterday, so I wasn’t able to finish this up until today! XD; But yeah, moving on to the notes...

The information about the Chest and its locking mechanisms, honestly, was all stuff I had to kind of surmise and research, since to my utter shock, there were just about no sources I could find online discussing the process of designing the original Dead Man’s Chest for the Pirates films. There is concept art for it, showing some possible decorative designs for the outside, and there are prop replicas showing the different angles and the inside of the lid -- but there is NO discussion made about the Chest’s construction/locking mechanism or what kind of 18th century or earlier chests may have inspired it. And that kind of blows me away as -- for all of the films’ flaws -- I have to applaud them on taking a lot of historical influences for things, especially in the costume and prop design. I apologize in advance if any of my research on 18th century locks and lock-picking is flawed or incomplete, but I did try my best. XD;

The song “Fifteen Men on a Dead Man’s Chest” was originally featured in the book Treasure Island by Robert Louis Stevenson, which was written in the late 1800′s, over a hundred years after the end of the Golden Age of Piracy, but it has since become entwined with the idea of pirates in pop culture, to the extent that it’s also referenced in Pirates of the Caribbean: Dead Man’s Chest, where it’s sung by Joshamee Gibbs and of course it inspired the core concept that the movie is named after. The original song was likely about Blackbeard or a similar pirate marooning a bunch of his crewmates, but I changed the meaning slightly to better fit with this narrative.

This version of Davy Jones, who is in truth an AU!Finn McGarry, belongs to @theguythatdraws Ican’twaittotrydrawinghimsoon, while Juliette “Jules” Farrier-Weasley belongs to @cursebreakerfarrier...and the previous part of this AU is here, while the entire tag is here! Hope you all enjoy! xoxo

x~x~x~x

Cutler Beckett did turn out to be just as unpleasant as Skye and Orion had suggested. Pretty quickly Carewyn could suss out that this so-called “businessman” had no loyalty to or caring for anyone or anything besides himself and his vested interests, namely his own wealth and status.

Unfortunately Percy was not as quick to catch onto that, presumably because of Beckett’s stated interest in supposedly bringing all pirates to justice and (Carewyn suspected) the fact that Beckett had spoken on Percy’s behalf before he was named a Captain himself. Part of Carewyn wanted to chastise Percy for letting himself be blinded by Beckett’s attempt to manipulate him, but she knew she couldn’t risk doing so. Not only would it make Percy and therefore Beckett suspicious that she was more sympathetic to their enemies (namely, Orion, Bill, and other pirates), but she also didn’t want to come down too hard on Percy. She knew that Percy, being the youngest Weasley brother in the Navy, had a lot to prove, especially considering that his “older brother” (namely, Carewyn) was a well-respected Commodore and war hero. Even his real older brothers had gotten their fair share of glory while they were enlisted in the Navy and now were seen as wanted criminals...so it was little wonder that Percy was determined to stand apart from them, not just as great in his own right, but ultimately better because he didn’t “fall from grace” like they did.

Cutler Beckett stayed at Governor Farrier’s mansion for the next week and visited the fort just about every day in that time. Whenever he was there, he pretty frequently sought Carewyn out, engaging her in conversation and asking her about her experiences fighting the Spanish and in escaping from the crew of the Revenge. Carewyn didn’t enjoy his rather pointed attention, but she hid her discomfort and mistrust as best as she was able. As much as she really found herself disliking the man, she knew that Beckett trying to get to know her better could give her the opportunity to get some information on him too. And ultimately, her polite, charming affect did help her learn a few things.

“From there, it was simply a matter of applying the proper pressure to the cylinder with one of the hat pins, while pushing the pins into the proper alignment with the other,” Carewyn explained. “Once the padlock on my chains was properly unlocked, I was then able to adjust enough to still look like I was locked up, wait for one of the enemy soldiers to enter my cell, and then overpower him so I could take his uniform, weapons, and keys and escape.”

“You truly are quite an escape artist, Commodore,” said Beckett, his eyebrows raising approvingly. “I’m impressed.”

Carewyn offered a casual smile. “Thank you -- but I only learned those things out of necessity, Lord Beckett.”

‘Jacob and I knew we’d both have to know how to pick locks, if we ever had to escape the Revenge’s brig. And even before that, it helped keep Grandfather happy, for us to be able to open chests of loot we didn’t have keys for.’

“It’s not a skill set I like to use if I can help it, considering I’d much prefer to be the one locking others up, not vice-versa.”

“Yes,” said Beckett, “I suppose for one with such a strong moral compass as yours, it would be only natural for you to wish to enforce justice, rather than fight against it.”

“Just as I’d say it’s only natural for a gentleman such as yourself to work toward the protection of our realm and interests -- am I right?”

“Of course,” said Beckett airily. “Someone has to make sure that people get what they pay for and that business remains profitable -- make sure the world turns properly, as it were.”

“A difficult proposition for any one man to do,” said Carewyn lowly, “considering this wild, untamed world we live in.”

Beckett smiled -- unlike Carewyn’s, however, there was no warmth in it at all.

“Fortunately, Commodore, the world we’ve been saddled with will soon be a thing of the past.”

He and Carewyn looked out over the wall of the fort. Down below, at the western dock, several rows of newly arrived red-garbed militia were disembarking from a Man o’ War and marching into Port Royal.

“As the map is filled in, our hold around this world becomes better defined,” said Beckett. “Its treasures are collected, its value assessed...and with that, a new sense of order begins to take hold.”

Carewyn looked down at the Man o’ War, her eyes narrowing slightly. She hadn’t seen such a strong military presence in Port Royal since the War against the Spanish -- and yet, here they were, being used not against foreign countries, but against individual people -- some of them even British citizens. As much as she knew that there were plenty of pirates that weren’t as goodhearted as Orion, it still seemed bizarre to her to unload all this firepower to destroy and kill, as opposed to capturing.

“And hopefully, peace,” said the Commodore softly.

Beckett glanced at Carewyn with a discerning eye. “Indeed. Peace and order do go hand-in-hand, wouldn’t you say?”

‘Not if the order is being instilled by a tyrant,’ she thought, as Charles Cromwell rippled over her mind.

“Definitely,” she lied instead.

Carewyn glanced at Beckett out the side of her eye, before turning her gaze out to the ocean.

“...I only profess as much knowledge to this matter as one can acquire, fighting against the likes of Orion Amari and being in the captivity of a pirate crew like the Revenge’s,” she said in the hardest, least sympathetic voice she could, “but it seems to me that pirates know their existence is unsustainable. Regardless of how renown they are and how much they can terrify merchant sailors, they’re still only men, facing off against Empires and kings. And as the world is plotted out -- as you yourself pointed out, Lord Beckett -- there will soon be less and less havens where such criminals can hide...”

She then looked at Beckett with a cold look in her eye.

“...From the way things stand...it seems to me that it would be in their best interest to stand down while they still can.”

'It would be, if there was any true justice for those who turned themselves in.’

Beckett’s lips spread into a slightly wider, cold smile as he inclined his head in agreement. “Well said. There could always be clemency, for those who embrace that wisdom -- it’s just good business.”

With this conversation, Carewyn had gotten a proper fix on Beckett, and it made her feel more disconcerted. It only got worse when later that week, both she and Percy were summoned into Carewyn’s own office at the fort for a meeting with Beckett. Some might have been offended at the idea of someone coming in and stealing their office just to demand a meeting with the office’s owner, but Carewyn honestly couldn’t make herself care too much about that. She couldn’t help but think that Beckett being so forceful could only be a bad thing, and when she arrived in her office, Percy right behind her dressed in his shiny new Captain’s uniform and powdered white wig, she immediately got the feeling she was right.

Beckett had already made himself very at home in Carewyn’s office. A crystal decanter filled with red wine and several glasses had been laid out and an entire map complete with tiny soldier pieces plotted in different positions covered nearly all of Carewyn’s desk. There was also an even larger map that had been applied to the back wall, which an employee was currently adding more details onto with his paintbrush. Standing in front of Carewyn’s desk across from Beckett was a middle-aged woman with hair as ginger red as Percy and Carewyn’s -- when the two officers first entered the room, her sharp-lidded dark blue eyes ran over both of them, lingering on Carewyn critically.

“Ah,” said Cutler Beckett, his lips spreading into a smile as his eyes narrowed upon Carewyn, “Commodore and Captain Weasley. Good of you to come.”

Carewyn and Percy both saluted.

“Lord Beckett,” Carewyn greeted formally.

She glanced at the older woman out the side of her eye, to find that she was likewise still looking her over with narrowed eyes. Carewyn couldn’t help but look at her suspiciously in return -- Percy had said Beckett had a female associate...and, if Charles Cromwell was to believed, then this woman had to be --

“Allow me to introduce my associate, Patricia Rakepick,” said Beckett smoothly. “Madam Rakepick -- this is Captain Percy Weasley, and his elder brother, Commodore Carey Weasley.”

Carewyn’s blood ran cold. Being face-to-face with the woman who tried to kill Jacob was like a dose of cold, shuddering poison to her system. It took everything in her to not look at Rakepick with wrathful, vengeful hatred -- instead, she tried to hide the bile she felt by bowing respectfully, her head slightly bowed to obscure her expression.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Madam,” she said softly. Somehow her voice came out levelly, despite the rage pulsing through her blood.

Rakepick’s eyes narrowed a bit more on Carewyn’s face.

“The pleasure’s all mine, Commodore,” she said, but she didn’t sound quite so convincing -- she almost immediately turned back to Beckett, looking noticeably impatient, “Lord Beckett, you can’t think that these -- ”

Beckett held up a hand to silence her and turned to the employee working on the map. “One moment -- Mr. Elliot, you may stop there, for today. On your way, now.”

The employee bowed his head respectfully, before descending from his ladder and quickly leaving the office. The door shut with a SNAP behind him.

“Now then,” said Beckett, as he rose to his feet, “Commodore...Captain...I invited you here to request a favor of you. Madam Rakepick has recently uncovered a rather unique and valuable artifact.”

Carewyn’s eyebrows furrowed. Even Percy looked startled.

“What artifact is that, your Lordship?” he asked.

Beckett poured some red wine and offered a glass to Carewyn. She accepted it to be polite, but did not drink it. He then similarly offered a glass to Percy, who took a sip, even if he still looked a bit confused.

“How familiar are you both with the legend of Davy Jones?” asked Beckett.

Carewyn’s eyes narrowed slightly. “The captain of the Flying Dutchman?”

“Well, I’ve...heard the stories, of course,” said Percy, glancing at Carewyn uncertainly. “We both have -- the silly things the soldiers would pass around, at sea...ghost stories, you know...”

Rakepick scoffed, crossing her arms. “‘Ghost stories’ -- and these two are supposed to be sailors? Any sailor worth their salt knows that these things are hardly just stories -- ”

“Madam, please,” Beckett cut her off very coolly, as Percy frowned deeply, clearly offended. “I’m afraid the stories are indeed real. We now have the Chest to prove it.”

He reached under his desk and placed an intricately carved iron treasure chest on top of Carewyn’s desk.

It looked older than anything Carewyn had ever seen, and yet also oddly beautiful -- the inset lock framed by the moon’s phases and stylized flames, and iron tentacles clutched at the lid as if keeping it shut.

Carewyn immediately put down her full wine glass on a side table so as to walk up to the chest, trailing a hand along the heart-shaped lock.

“This is the Dead Man’s Chest?” she whispered.

Percy glanced at Carewyn. “The Dead Man’s Chest? Like in the song?”

Carewyn shook her head. “‘Fifteen Men on a Dead Man’s Chest’ was about this Chest, Perce. It’s said that Jones was so determined that no one know where he buried this treasure chest that he abandoned the entire crew who knew of its existence on that island with nothing but a bottle of rum to sustain them.”

“Leaving them to take the secret of its location to their graves,” said Beckett. He was idly playing with a silver piece of eight in his right hand as he spoke, his eyes resting on Carewyn. “Alas, it seems that the key needed to open the Chest may be in a location we cannot reach -- ”

He shot a cool look at Rakepick, who looked very affronted and opened her mouth to say something, but couldn’t before Beckett spoke again.

“ -- so I’d like to ask for your expertise on the matter, Commodore. Can this Chest be opened, without its key?”

Carewyn looked from Beckett to down at the Chest, unable to hide the trepidation completely from her face.

“...I can’t say for sure,” she said slowly. Her mind was working very fast as she regarded Beckett with a cautious look. “Were it an ordinary chest, I daresay it’d be easy enough to find a way to open it...but if there were any kind of curse placed on it or, more importantly, the treasure inside it...it might not be wise to try to break it open.”

“Curse?” repeated Percy disbelievingly. “Carey, you can’t be serious -- ”

“I saw the curse of Isle de Muerta with my own eyes, Percy,” she reminded him sharply. “If the Dead Man’s Chest has such a curse on it, it would not be worth the risk to open it, no matter how valuable its treasure is.”

Percy immediately quieted, looking a bit uncomfortable. Rakepick once again looked Carewyn over with a critical eye, even as she gave another light sniff.

“The treasure inside is not magical, so it would have no chance of hurting us, that is for certain,” said Rakepick dryly. “And from all the evidence I’ve gathered, I found nothing hinting that Finn McGarry -- pardon, Davy Jones -- was particularly adept at curses. All of the abilities he has now were a result of the role bestowed upon him by Calypso, as ferryman of the damned.”

Her face then turned much more serious.

“I will agree with the Commodore on one thing, though: Jones’s Chest will be too strong for the likes of a single man to break open. Look at the lid -- there are dead bolt locks around the entire Chest. The only way we’ll be able to unlock it is if I fetch the key from Jones myself -- ”

“And yet the Commodore thinks it’d be easy enough, to find a way to open the Chest without that key,” said Beckett rather coolly, raising his eyebrows as he once again shifted his gaze to Carewyn. “Commodore -- if you would?”

Carewyn looked from the Dead Man’s Chest to Beckett again, before glancing back at Percy. Percy gave her an encouraging nod, but it didn’t make Carewyn feel any better. She wished beyond reason that Charlie or Bill had been there instead -- they’d understand why she was so hesitant to help someone like Cutler Beckett.

But at the same time...she couldn’t refuse. She was put in the position that she had to open the Chest, if she wanted to stay on Beckett’s good side and keep the position that allowed her to protect Bill, Jules, Charlie, Jacob, and Orion. Even if she did refuse to open the Chest, then Beckett would no doubt find someone else who would...and would also likely not trust Carewyn enough to let her overhear any more information that could help her protect the others.

'If the treasure inside isn’t cursed, then there isn’t much reason to refuse,’ she thought grimly. ‘And lining Beckett’s pockets with a bit more gold would only help me help the others that bit more, by earning his trust.’

And so, swallowing back the ball of fear in her throat, Carewyn started looking over the Chest. She turned it around a few times, examining the hinges and the dead-bolts lining the base of the lid.

“What do you think, Carey?” asked Percy anxiously.

Carewyn’s eyes narrowed upon the Chest as she ran a hand over the top and pushed down on each of the iron tentacles one at a time.

“Its construction most resembles an armada chest -- some of the Spanish captains used them to hold their valuables during the War, and I’ve seen some pirates use them too, to hold their loot,” she murmured to him, though she could feel Rakepick hovering over her other shoulder as she worked. “On armada chests, the locking mechanism is actually built into the inside of the lid -- that explains the dead bolts around the edges. It also would prevent you from just unscrewing the hinges on the back of the chest and opening it from the back, like you can on a lot of wooden chests. But armada chests usually have a false keyhole on the front, with the real keyhole being hidden under a flap on the lid. This one does not. Judging by the construction of the keyhole, there looks to be a double cylinder design -- one that requires pressure on both sides of the keyhole, as well as the pins inside both cylinders to be in the proper position...”

She looked up at Beckett.

“...It’s easily the most complicated locking system I’ve ever seen on any chest,” she said grimly.

“Can you open it?” asked Beckett.

Carewyn steadied her jaw, her face blanching slightly as she inclined her head in a short nod.

“I think so.”

Beckett got Carewyn the tools she needed. Due to the two-sided nature of the keyhole, she enlisted Percy to help her -- he had far less experience with opening locks, but he followed Carewyn’s directions as closely as he could.

After almost an hour, there was a loud, booming CLICK as all twelve of the dead bolts around the lid popped out and the lid opened a crack, letting off a small gasp of dust.

“You did it!” said Rakepick.

Despite the seriousness of her expression, there was a slight echo of excitement and awe at the back of her voice. She was clearly impressed.

Carewyn stared at the slightly open Chest. Her heart was slamming up against her rib cage anxiously.

Nothing had happened, when she’d opened it -- so had the Chest not been cursed, after all? That was a relief. And Rakepick had said the treasure inside wasn’t cursed, so...

Tentatively Carewyn reached out a hand and slowly eased the lid open.

When she saw what was inside, though, she couldn’t hold back a sharp intake of breath.

The Dead Man’s Chest was devoid of any of the gold or jewels she’d envisioned. Instead, all it held was a slimy, reddish, pulsing, thumping thing about the side of a coconut.

It was a human heart, still beating lowly despite no blood rushing through it.

Percy squeezed Carewyn’s shoulder as he looked down at it too, visibly taken aback.

“Is...that...?”

“The heart of Davy Jones,” finished Rakepick darkly, “first cut out when he was named captain of the Flying Dutchman -- for the Dutchman must always have a captain who’s left his heart behind in the world of the living. Only then can he truly be a subjective judge of the dead and dying at sea...and thus the souls of the damned will not haunt the seas and terrorize all those who sail it.”

Carewyn’s eyes were very wide. ‘Then...the treasure Jones locked away was his own heart?’

Rakepick’s dark blue eyes flickered down to the heart rather pitilessly.

“Not that Jones hasn’t done a fine job of terrorizing those who sail those seas all on his own, over the years,” she added very dryly.

“All the more reason for us to bring Jones into our enterprise.”

Beckett rose from his desk again. Taking a sip from his own glass of red wine, he came around to purposefully take a step between Percy and Carewyn and look down at the heart himself. His lips curled up in a dark smile as he reached out a hand and picked up the heart to get a better look at it.

“Whoever controls the heart of Davy Jones...controls the sea,” said Beckett.

He gave it a rather tight squeeze. Carewyn couldn’t stop herself from flinching.

‘If that thing is still beating,’ she couldn’t help but think, ‘then does that mean that it’s the only thing keeping Davy Jones alive? If so...’

She felt like her own chest was being squeezed.

‘...Beckett’s holding Davy Jones’s life in the palm of his hand.’

For all of the terrifying stories Carewyn had heard about Davy Jones over the years, both on the Revenge and in the Navy, she found herself feeling nothing but righteous anger and pain at this thought. What a disgusting, terrible thing to do to anyone -- no matter how awful a person they were...

There was a loud splash outside the window of Carewyn’s office.

Carewyn, Percy, Rakepick, and Beckett all looked up, to see a giant, terrifying ship erupting out of the waves just outside the fort. It was a sickly gray with torn sails and a bow cut into a set of massive, jagged jaws like a crocodile.

“The Flying Dutchman,” breathed Carewyn, hardly daring to believe it.

Beckett’s smile broadened, actually showing some teeth. “A rather fine addition to the fleet -- especially considering that it can go just about anywhere and travel in record time...”

Rakepick turned to Beckett sharply.

“If that’s the case, the first thing we should do is have him hunt down Black Jack Roberts. I know he made a deal with Jones -- he’ll have a way to track him down and kill him once and for all -- ”

Carewyn’s heart spasmed in horror, but fortunately no one else in the room noticed the fear flashing through her face.

“Didn’t you say you already destroyed the Tower Raven?” said Beckett coolly. “One can hardly see a pirate with no ship as a real threat.”

“Don’t underestimate Black Jack Roberts,” said Rakepick lowly. “By all accounts, he should’ve died, and he would have, if he hadn’t somehow managed to recruit a merman to his crew -- ”

Percy sputtered in disbelief. “‘Merman’ -- you mean, like mermaids? Those are real too?”

“Afraid so,” said Carewyn.

Her mind and heart were both racing, but she tried desperately to keep her cool. She couldn’t let them go after Jacob...or Duncan, either, if he was the merman who’d helped him like she suspected. Now that she knew the true power Beckett now had, thanks to her opening that Chest for him, she couldn’t stand by and let him use it to hurt her brother --

“...I can’t say I know much about Black Jack Roberts, aside from him being captain of the Tower Raven...” she said slowly, “...but it seems to me that attacking one man would be a poor way to use the weapon we’ve acquired.”

All three of the others looked at her. Beckett raised his eyebrows in keen interest.

“And what would you say would be a better way to use it, Commodore?” he asked, sounding intrigued.

Carewyn’s eyes drifted away from the others as she walked up to the window of her office and looked out, her arms crossed behind her back as she went. She tried to keep her face as stoic as possible, even with how scared she truly felt.

‘In order to pass up the chance to hunt down and kill one of the most wanted pirates in the world,’ she thought, ‘I have to offer an even more enticing option...’

The idea forming in her mind made her feel ill.

‘It’s been over two weeks since I saw Jules, Bill, and Charlie,’ she thought very quickly. ‘That’s more than enough time to have made the repairs to the Revolution and get some new crew members, especially if Orion and the crew of the Artemis is helping them. And...whether they’re just leaving or have already left...this way, they’ll know the true extent of the danger. All pirates will know what the Navy’s new weapon is...and can prepare for it.’

She closed her eyes solemnly.

“...I say we send a message to all pirates -- one that makes them tremble in their boots, the way they’ve made merchant sailors tremble at the sight of their black flags...by attacking them where they’ve always felt most safe. By arresting them somewhere they all gather together, in one place.”

She opened her eyes again, her gaze blazing as she turned back to Beckett.

“I say...we sack Tortuga.”

#potc au #au #pirates of the caribbean #carewyn cromwell #patricia rakepick #percy weasley #jacob cromwell #duncan ashe #charlie weasley #bill weasley #jules farrier #finn mcgarry #my art #my writing #my fanfiction #oooooh boy carey #this kind of feels like when you were stuck at the ministry under the death eaters in your canon #having to stay in line while secretly biding your time to try to find a way to defeat the enemy #and also trying to find a way to help the people you love at the same time #she's going to hate herself so much after this whole thing is over though given how paragon she is #she knows practically speaking this is the best way she can help #but it doesn't make it any easier for her to keep her head down even if it is ultimately to try to help others #carewyn has impossible standards for herself as the resident paragon slytherin #she'll hate herself no matter what path she takes honestly #of course rakepick's already giving carey the side eye #wonder why... >>#also percy isn't just wearing the wig because it's a symbol of the 'upper-class' status of his position #but also because remember redheads are considered bad luck at sea?#so he figures people will treat him slightly differently if they don't immediately know he's a ginger on first meeting #and -- yeah sad to say he's right

17 notes · View notes

carewyncromwell · 3 years

Note

To carey: What was the most diffult case you ever worked as a lawyer and why? To ana: What is your all time favourite book? & Did you ever consider working for the theater? To bat: What was the strangest question anyone ever asked you? & Did you actually read one of grims books? ^^

“Carey, what was the most difficult case you ever worked as a lawyer and why?”

[Carewyn takes time to consider this.]

“Most difficult...I’d say it’d have to be my friend Night Rhea’s. @nightrhea-hphm I had to prosecute the case -- I prosecuted almost all of the cases against ex-Death Eaters, after the War...even if I believed with all my heart that Night was innocent.”

Not just because of my Legilimency, but...well, knowing Night, I just couldn’t believe they didn’t have some greater reason for what they did. They’ve never been like the Death Eaters -- they’ve never been so spiteful or ignorant as that.

“It was hard to try to convict someone I didn’t want convicted in the first place. I’m just glad that I was able to help their attorneys enough that Night won their case and was set free.”

I wouldn’t have been able to live with myself, otherwise...

((OOC: I stumbled upon Jessica Chastain in the film Miss Sloane completely by chance, and uhhh...she is a PERFECT adult!Carewyn, I can’t even. She’s even got the right hair length and lipstick holy sheez))

“Ana, what is your all time favourite book? And did you ever consider working for the theater?”

All-time? How in the world do I pick just one?

“...Mm...well, The Last Unicorn is up there. Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland and Through the Looking Glass too -- and The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe. If we’re counting plays, then Macbeth is wonderful...and if we’re talking manga series too, Sailor Moon is my favorite of those. Though I’m in the middle of rereading Ouran High School Host Club, and it really is even better than I remember it...”

[She trails off, realizing she kind of botched up the whole “all-time favorite” thing by listing off way more than just one favorite. She goes faintly pink and shrugs it off.]

“...Anyway...I do help out at the theater when I can, but I didn’t think I’d work there full-time ever, no. I love it, of course! Of course I do. But I’ve always wanted to be a writer, and well...that’s all there is to it.”

People always say you should follow your dreams, so why shouldn’t I follow mine? Even if I did end up having to work at the theater to pay the bills, I would still have been writing -- I know that for sure!

“Bat, what was the strangest question anyone ever asked you? And did you actually read one of Grim’s books?

[Bat actually starts to laugh. His amusement creates an odd crack in his usually serene expression, betraying a wonderful, handsome, youthful quality.]

“I actually had a Hogwarts student once who had enough gumption to ask me about the best method to ‘grow parts of his body.’”

[Why yes, Bat knew exactly what the student had wanted to do, even if he hadn’t explicitly said so to the vampire’s face.]

“I told the boy if he was really so determined to do it that one could apply an Engorgement Charm, but that he aught to master it by practicing on things that weren’t attached to him first, so as to not end up in the Hospital Wing having to answer a lot of uncomfortable questions. I also reminded him that bigger does not mean better and that he really should just drink his milk and eat his greens like everybody else.”

[The mention of Grim’s books @cursebreakerfarrier makes Bat’s scarlet eyes light up with very keen interest.]

“‘Books?’ You mean to tell me that old Grim has written not just a book, but multiple books, and he has not told me?”

[His lips spread into a full, fanged smile.]

“Well, this most definitely is something I’ll have to address straight-away.”

((OOC: I want Bat to read Grim’s books, but I don’t know what they’re about or when Grim would’ve finished them in their timeline (since in his profile I see he’s working on one), so I’m playing it off as Bat having just not learned that particular tidbit yet.))

Voice Ask!

#carewyn cromwell #anastasia read #bartholomew varney #roleplaying #night rhea #atticus grimsley #other people's mcs

12 notes · View notes

carewyncromwell · 4 years

Text

Ficlet: Educational Decree #23

@drinkyoursoupbitch mentioned enjoying Lawyer!Carewyn, so...I decided to write this not-so-quick not-so-little fic drabble, featuring my MC, Carewyn Cromwell, and her Surrogate BBBFF, Bill Weasley. This is set in May 1996, circa the end of Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix and right after Voldemort’s return has been fully revealed to the Wizarding World.

One note about Carey’s involvement with the Order -- due to her baggage with Dumbledore and her own inherent pacifism, Carewyn is not an active member of the Order of the Phoenix, at least not in the traditional sense. She does help them in her own way and on her own terms, but Carewyn hasn’t served as any kind of representative for or agent of the organization, fought in any conflicts with Death Eaters, or even attended any Order meetings in person. Most of the aid she’s provided the Order is through leaking intelligence to them through her old friends Tonks and Jae and in going out of her way to serve as legal council to Fudge so she can write and work on cases that she would know well enough to subsequently dismantle at the proper moment. Carewyn has also kept known associates of Dumbledore like the Weasleys and the Hogwarts staff at arm’s length and not spoken to them much at all, so as to not give Fudge reason to question her loyalties or look too deeply at her activities. Therefore Carewyn and Bill -- keeping an eye on the greater good -- have not shared direct correspondence for nearly a year, which has definitely been hard on both of them, as after Rowan’s death, the two have come to see each other as their respective best friend.

~~~~~

The Ministry of Magic may have been in a state of confusion thanks to the revelation of Voldemort’s return -- but no matter how chaotic things were, or how many enchanted memos flew through the air, Bill Weasley was never not going to stick out like a sore thumb.

The ponytailed Cursebreaker towered over many of the employees scrambling around him as he climbed into the lift that led to the other levels. He could feel several side-long glances his way -- no doubt interested in his violet-black leather jacket with silver spiked shoulders and the Peruvian Vipertooth fang earring in his right ear.

‘Maybe I should’ve drank some Polyjuice,’ he thought sheepishly. ‘Come disguised as someone else.’

But he brushed the thought off. As good as it would’ve been to not attract as much attention, he knew he didn’t want to waste time. The Ministry having finally come around to the idea of Voldemort’s return meant that Carewyn presumably no longer had to walk on eggshells and pretend not to know everybody -- and, well, there was a lot to plan. Bill knew Carewyn would want to know everything that had happened, and now that the truth had come out, he wanted to be the one to tell her. If nothing else, Carewyn would definitely prefer a private meeting with him than one with Dumbledore.

“Level Two,” said the cool, serene female voice of the lift as it came to a stop. “Department of Magical Law Enforcement and Auror Offices.”

The cage-like door clattered open, and the employees in the lift came streaming out, fighting with a flood of equal size trying to take their place. Before Bill could climb out himself, however, he noticed a familiar mane of bright pink hair in the crowd of people pushing their way into the lift.

“Tonks!” said Bill.

The Metamorphagus looked up, and her face broke into a huge smile at the sight of him.

“Bill!”

The two exchanged a short hug.

“What in the world are you doing here, mate?” Tonks asked incredulously. “Gonna stick out just a touch in that get-up, aren’t you?”

“I already am sticking out,” Bill laughed. “Is Carewyn in her office?”

Tonks’s face grew a bit more serious.

“No, she’s on Level Nine -- Courtroom Ten. The Wizengamot’s discussing a challenge made to Educational Decree Number 23 -- you know, the one creating the High Inquisitor post? Apparently they summoned Carey as an expert witness.”

“Because she helped Fudge with a draft of that decree,” surmised Bill.

Tonks nodded.

“Well, I’ll go on ahead and find her down there, then,” said Bill.

He sidled back into the lift, and Tonks came up to stand beside him as the cage doors closed and the lift began to move again.

“Wish I could come with you,” said Tonks softly, “but I’ve got a meeting with Remus right after work, I can’t be late.”

Bill cocked his eyebrows amusedly. “A meeting? Do you call all of your romantic rendez-vous’s that, Tonks?”

Tonks’s face darkened in a blush even as her face broke into a huge white grin.

“Oh, don’t tease! It’s for the Order,” she mumbled a bit more shyly.

Bill laughed.

The lift came to a stop.

“Level Eight,” said the cool, serene female voice. “Atrium.”

The doors clanged open, and the mob of employees flooded out. Tonks strode out of the lift too, waving to Bill over her shoulder.

“Say hi to the ‘General’ for me!” she said with a laugh.

Bill waved back, grinning at the reminder of Diego’s old nickname for Carewyn. The Dueling Champion had started calling her that after she and the others started the Circle of Khanna back in the day -- though Diego often punctuated it with modifiers like “brave General” or “kind General.”

The doors closed, and the lift began to descend again. Bill was the only one left inside now, so he could actually stretch a bit without hitting any of the dozen people fencing him in on either side.

‘Carey stayed in Fudge’s good graces this last year so she could sabotage him wherever she could -- keep him from grabbing absolute power, and help us fight You-Know-Who,’ Bill recalled. ‘So she no doubt wrote that draft of the decree with the intention of having it challenged.’

Something rubbed Bill the wrong way, though.

‘The Wizengamot summoned her as a witness, no doubt to defend it...but why would they even bother defending it? Fudge has been proven wrong about You-Know-Who. And why is Carey just an expert witness, when she could have made the challenge herself?’

“Level Nine,” said the cool, serene female voice of the lift as it came to its last stop. “Department of Mysteries.”

The cage door clattered open again, and Bill climbed out.

Level Nine was unique among the floors of the Ministry for its reflective black-tiled walls and ceilings. Bill’s leather boots clapped against the floor with every step, the sound echoing off of every surface down the hall behind him as he walked.

He turned a corner and found Courtroom Ten. Trying to be as quiet as he could, he turned the silver doorknob in the center of the door and inched it open.

“...position was created for the welfare of the students, was it not? To better regulate and enforce the standards for their educators -- the professors put in charge of their care?”

Bill identified Fudge’s blustering voice at once, though it sounded much shakier and more feeble than usual.

“...That was supposed to be its intent, yes.”

‘Carey!’

Bill sidled into the room, settling down into the half-full stands of the courtroom so he could see.

Fudge sat up near the head of the Courtroom’s box seats, spinning his lime green bowler hat in both hands in his lap. The top seat, however, which belonged to the Chief Warlock, was once again occupied by Albus Dumbledore, dressed in embroidered lavender robes and a matching pointed hat. Bill also noticed his younger brother Percy -- as Junior Undersecretary -- sitting in the Head Scribe’s Chair, in the far right corner. Percy, true to form, seemed to be purposefully avoiding Bill’s gaze.

On the floor, a young man with dark hair and a set of white-collared brown pinstripe robes who Bill recognized as ex-Ravenclaw Prefect Chester Davies sat at the prosecution’s table. And sitting in the witness chair at the center of the room, dressed in high-necked, flowing forest green robes and gold star-like earrings, was Carewyn. Her ginger red hair was shorter than Bill remembered it, only reaching her chin, but her lipstick was as ruby red as ever. She had her arms crossed over her chest and her shoulders were low, making her appear incredibly uncomfortable.

Bill frowned. He’d never seen Carewyn slouch like that before...

“And -- and there have been...concerns over the years,” Fudge pressed, though he kept glancing anxiously out the side of his eye up at Dumbledore beside him, “letters sent by parents of the students, expressing concerns about...previous staff appointments at Hogwarts, yes?”

“Objection,” said Chester Davies rather coolly. “The witness is here to testify about the legality of the measure, not to give justification for why it was written.”

“Sustained,” said Dumbledore airily.

His light blue eyes drifted down to Fudge, and although they weren’t at all sharp or reproachful, the Minister flinched all the same. Dumbledore then looked down at Carewyn, inclining his head slightly.

“Miss Cromwell...your legal counsel was that there was nothing on the books forbidding the creation of the High Inquisitor position -- is that correct?”

Despite the slight discomfort in her posture, Carewyn kept her eyes solidly on Dumbledore as she spoke.

“Yes, Professor.”

“So in your view, it would not be illegal for the Ministry to influence the way Hogwarts is run -- to circumvent the authority of the school’s own Headmaster?”

“I could find nothing on the books outlawing it,” said Carewyn solemnly. “There is no law forbidding the Ministry from regulating Hogwarts’s educational practices, staff appointments, or lesson plans. However one personally feels about Educational Decree Number 23...”

She inclined her head respectfully to Dumbledore.

“...I would conclude that it was legal.”

Fudge’s face was twitching as if he wanted to smile, but seemed too afraid to when he glanced around at Dumbledore and the rest of the Wizengamot on either side of him, whose faces were all decidedly stony.

Dumbledore’s eyes flickered from Carewyn to Chester Davies at the prosecution table and back. Then he gave Carewyn a short, respectful nod in return.

“Thank you, Miss Cromwell. Mr. Davies -- you may now cross-examine the witness.”

Chester rose to his feet, his shoulders straight back and tall. He strode around the table slowly, but with purpose, his robes billowing slightly behind him as he came up beside Carewyn, his arms folded behind his back. His eyes never rested on anyone in particular -- instead they hovered somewhere in the area of the abandoned far corner of the stands.

“Miss Cromwell,” he said, his voice very cool, “when Fudge first approached you for legal counsel, why did he want the High Inquisitor position created?”

“O-objection!” Fudge stammered. “That’s a prejudicial question!”

“Overruled,” said Dumbledore calmly. “It’s a factual question -- one I’d quite like to know the answer to. Proceed with your answer, Miss Cromwell.”

Carewyn had shifted her gaze over to Chester. Although Chester wasn’t looking at her, she kept her eyes locked on his face.

“...He said...that he wished to keep Dumbledore in check,” she said very quietly.

Both the Wizengamot members and the gallery startled to mumble amongst themselves. Bill noticed a reporter with an uneven light blond haircut and a snake tattoo on his arm in the stands scribbling notes furiously. Even Percy paused in his writing, glancing up at Fudge uneasily. Fudge’s face had flushed the shade of a fine red wine.

Chester’s eyebrows rose. Though he kept his gaze on the abandoned far corner of the stands, quiet confidence rippled off of him as he strolled leisurely to the other side of Carewyn.

“Had Albus Dumbledore been charged with any crime by the Department of Magical Law Enforcement?” he asked.

“Objection!” said Fudge again. “Completely irrelevant! We’re discussing the decree, not Dumbledore!”

“Overruled,” said Dumbledore. “Miss Cromwell’s previous answer has linked both you and me to the decree, Cornelius. Proceed, Miss Cromwell.”

“No,” said Carewyn.

“Had Albus Dumbledore been under investigation for a specific crime by the Department of Magical Law Enforcement?” asked Chester.

“Objection!” Fudge burst out, sounding both more frustrated and desperate. “This line of questioning is highly inflammatory -- ”

“Overruled,” Dumbledore cut him off very smoothly. “The truth can often be inflammatory. Proceed, Miss Cromwell.”

“No -- though he was placed under Ministry surveillance.”

“Objection!” whimpered Fudge. “We’ll need to cross-examine that claim -- ”

“Overruled. Our examination of the witness is through, and she’s merely stating facts of the case. Proceed, Mr. Davies.”

“And,” said Chester, his voice a bit sharper now, “was the High Inquisitor position filled again, once Dolores Umbridge -- with the passing of Educational Decree Number 28 -- replaced Dumbledore and became Headmistress of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry?”

“Objection!”

“Overruled.”

Carewyn inclined her head slightly, her blue eyes narrowing slightly upon Chester’s face seriously.

“No.”

Chester’s mouth had spread into a small smirk by this point. He’d stopped in front of Carewyn and faced her at last, his dark eyes gleaming with triumph.

“Interesting. So the High Inquisitor position -- which, the Minister has stated for the press was there to ‘keep order’ and ‘address the falling standards at Hogwarts school’ -- was no longer needed as soon as Albus Dumbledore left his position as Headmaster. Even though Headmistress Umbridge would go on to try to forcibly remove Professor Rubeus Hagrid from the Hogwarts grounds -- an attempt that resulted in severe injury for Deputy Headmistress Minerva McGonagall...and even though the Inquisitorial Squad created to assist the High Inquisitor had not been disbanded and was actually given more authority after the fact...the position of High Inquisitor no longer needed to be filled. No further effort was needed to regulate Hogwarts’s educational practices. Once Dumbledore was gone, so too was the need for the position...and therefore the decree.”

Fudge’s flushed face had turned a dark purple.

“Objection!” he squeaked.

“Overruled,” Dumbledore said very quietly, but very firmly.

“Regulation is legal,” Chester plowed on, pacing slowly across the room without looking anyone in the eye, “as long as it’s consistent. There can be no singling out of individual citizens, particularly when it’s not in the pursuit of legal action. Regardless of the Minister’s distrust of him, Dumbledore had not been charged with and was not under investigation for a specific crime...so there would’ve been no probable cause for his personal activities to be regulated. Regulating educational policy, therefore, would only be legal as long as the regulation was consistent across the board -- if the High Inquisitor position both regulated Albus Dumbledore and Dolores Umbridge’s decisions as Head of Hogwarts school.”

“Object -- ”

“Overruled.”

“And so,” said Chester more fiercely, his gaze flashing up at Fudge with visible reproach, “the High Inquisitor position, and the decree that spawned it, was created for the express purpose of silencing political dissidents...namely one in particular -- Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore.”

Chester then turned to Carewyn, his expression becoming much less harsh but no less severe.

“Would that be legal, in your opinion, Miss Cromwell?”

Carewyn stared Chester straight in the eye. Neither one of them blinked.

“No,” said Carewyn at last, very firmly. “The targeting of a private citizen with no legal justification would violate multiple laws, including the Third Clause of the Wizard’s Code of Civil Rights.”

Fudge’s face had lost most of its color, blanching to an ill grayish-white. The corners of Dumbledore’s mouth turned up in a very tiny, dewy smile.

Chester’s eyes narrowed slightly upon Carewyn’s face, almost softening.

“Thank you, Miss Cromwell. No further questions.”

Carewyn got to her feet. She looked like she wanted to say something to Chester, but decided against it and simply nodded, heading back up into the stands. She noticed Bill sitting in the rows, but did not move to greet him, instead taking a seat in the row behind the prosecutor’s table, away from the rest of the spectators.

Chester turned fully around to face the Wizengamot, unfolding his arms from behind his back at last.

“Members of the Wizengamot,” he said lowly, “I do not make this case with any desire to achieve political points. If nothing else...the danger we now find ourselves in makes it imperative that we set aside political squabbling. Whatever one’s opinion is of the Minister of Magic or his legislation...”

He shot a side-long glance at Fudge, as did many other members of the Court.

“...this is not the time for retaliation, but for justice. Educational Decree Number 23 was illegal both in its creation and especially in its execution -- and so it must be expunged forever from the law, and we must act to ensure that nothing like it ever is created again. This decision must be so universal that it sets a precedent -- one that, unlike the one this decree set, is one that evokes positive change. Hogwarts doesn’t need ‘regulation’ now -- it needs protection. We all need protection. So vote with your conscience. End this chapter of Ministry ineptitude and in-fighting...and start a new one, having made up for the mistakes we’ve made.”

Chester glanced at Fudge one more time, this time meeting his eyes. The Minister looked away uncomfortably. The young attorney then inclined his head respectfully to the rest of the court.

“Thank you.”

He took his seat at the prosecution table. The room was silent for a moment, before Dumbledore addressed the court.

“All those in favor of the decree being upheld?”

No one moved. Not a single member of the Wizengamot raised their hand -- not even Fudge, who kept his eyes locked on the bowler hat clutched in his trembling hands.

The reaction was so stunning that the spectators in the gallery began to whisper among themselves. The tattooed reporter in the stands scribbled some more notes furiously.

“All those in favor of overturning the decree and -- by extension -- declaring it illegal under Wizarding Law?” said Dumbledore.

A sea of hands rose into the air. Fudge did not raise his hand -- he’d clearly decided to withhold his vote -- but he for once remained completely silent, his entire posture shrinking visibly in his seat.

“Then we are decided,” declared Dumbledore, a pleased twinkle in his light blue eyes. “Educational Decree Number 23 is abolished. Court is adjourned.”

He lightly tapped the gavel twice on the table in front of him. Everyone started bustling around to leave the Courtroom, including Carewyn and Chester, who left together. Bill hurried to catch up with them, even as the crowd of spectators devolved around him.

He finally caught up with them as they climbed into the lift.

“Carewyn!”

Carewyn and Chester turned around. Their eyes both lit up in recognition.

“...Bill,” said Carewyn, visibly taken aback. She glanced at Chester out the side of her eye very quickly before asking, “What are you doing here?”

Bill came to stop next to them in the lift, a smile prickling at his features. “I heard the Wizengamot had summoned you, so I thought I’d pop down and watch the court proceedings...going up, I suppose?” he added lightly, “Allow me.”

He punched the button for Level Two.

“Glad I did too,” Bill continued casually as the gate-like doors closed. “That was quite a case!”

Carewyn leaned back against the side of the lift, crossing her arms.

“...Yes, it was. A foregone conclusion, some would say, given Fudge’s current level of popularity -- but the law isn’t supposed to be a popularity contest.”

“True,” said Chester. “Just because Fudge was cruel in how he targeted his political rivals doesn’t mean we have to be.”

Bill’s gaze slid over to Chester.

“...I didn’t know you were an attorney now, Chester. I haven’t seen you since...”

“...I left school -- I know,” finished Chester with a polite smile. “I’m rather new to it, actually. I only started practicing last month.”

“I was the one who suggested Chester take the case,” Carewyn added, also smiling slightly.

“I hope you were pleased with the result,” Chester shot back with a wry smile.

“It did turn out the way we hoped, anyway. Though I would’ve preferred if our roles had been switched.”

“We can’t all be on the winning side of things.”

The lift came to a stop.

“Level Two,” said the cool female voice again. “Department of Magical Law Enforcement and Auror Offices.”

The three climbed out.

“Oh, Carewyn, before I forget,” said Chester, “I left some paperwork for you in my office -- I thought it might be useful, for your next case.”

“Thank you,” said Carewyn, “I’ll go and fetch it.”

“I have to be heading out myself...could I steal a bottle of pop from your office, before I go?”

“Of course. I left the file I borrowed in my right desk drawer too.”

“Much obliged.”

The exchange was very quick and clipped, and yet there was something almost pointed in the glances they shared -- as if they were saying something else entirely that only they knew.

Carewyn headed off down the hall, presumably toward Chester’s office. Chester strolled down to the first door on the right, which led to Carewyn’s office, and opened it, glancing over his shoulder at Bill.

“Do you want to wait here until Carewyn comes back?” he asked politely. “It should only take a few minutes.”

“Yes, I would,” said Bill.

Bill followed Chester into the office, and the attorney closed the door behind both of them.

Carewyn’s office was unusual among the Ministry of Magic’s offices in how charming and remarkably pretty it was. It was very tiny, incredibly organized, and impeccably decorated, with mint-green painted walls and a charmed skylight that showed the image of the London street above them, including the passing feet of the Muggles presumably walking overhead. It also included several Muggle appliances, such as a waffle-maker and a tiny fridge -- Carewyn had said in her letters that she and her coworkers often worked late nights, so sometimes Talbott, Tonks, or Ben (who were Aurors and a Hitwizard respectively) would pop in for a before-dawn breakfast after one of their assignments.

Chester sat down in the wheeled office chair (another unique Muggle item) and rolled it over to the fridge behind the black desk. He opened it, pushing aside the items inside to reach the very back.

“Can I get you some orangeade, perhaps?” asked Chester casually. “Carewyn always keeps a bottle or two in stock.”

Bill smiled broadly. “Of course. You know it’s my favorite, Carey.”

Chester -- or rather, Carewyn, in disguise as Chester -- took out a bottle of orangeade, her face breaking into a broad smile and her dark eyes sparkling, as she opened the bottle and handed it to Bill.

“When did you figure it out?” she asked.

“Back in the courtroom,” said Bill. “You’ve never slouched like that when you were uncomfortable. You used to shrink a bit, when you were younger...but you always look away when you’re the least bit uncomfortable. You don’t keep eye contact like that. Then you started talking, and...”

Bill grinned.

“...even though it was Chester’s voice, I could still hear you in there.”

Carewyn grinned broadly. She rolled the chair around so she could fetch a can of Vimto Cola for herself. She opened it with a click and took a sip.

“It’ll only take a few minutes before I turn back into myself again,” she said. “The case went on a bit longer than I expected -- I had to cut my closing arguments short, if I didn’t want to quickly rush back to the prosecution bench and drink some ‘water.’”

“Yet you still won everyone over,” said Bill as he lowered the soda bottle from his lips. “Well, except for Fudge, but...none of us expected to win him over.”

Carewyn sighed. “True. I’m glad he had the decency to step aside at least. He clearly saw there was no point in wasting his vote -- it would only make him look worse politically, to be the only one standing up for his decree.”

“Do you reckon he’ll resign?”

“I’m positive. This trial broke him a bit, I think. It really gave him a good look at how much he’s destroyed his reputation forever.”

Carewyn took another sip. Bill considered her for a moment, his eyes lingering on Chester’s dark hair.

“I have to ask, though, Carey...why did you do it? Why didn’t you just challenge the decree yourself? Why replace Chester?”

Carewyn bit the inside of her cheek, her eyes drifting away as she placed her soda can down on her desk.

“The Prophet’ll be going on about Chester taking down the decree,” said Bill, sounding almost disappointed. “He’ll be getting praise for what you did.”

“And that’ll help him get more cases in the future,” Carewyn said simply. “I need more allies in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement -- good lawyers who won’t cow to people like Fudge. And if I was in the witness chair instead, I could appear as a neutral observer -- so when I invariably sided with the prosecution, I could bring the case for the Decree crashing down.”

“But you weren’t in the witness chair. Chester was.”

“Yes. I actually gave Chester a file that he could use in the case, while I sat back...but he refused. He said that I deserved to present my case in front of a jury, after how much work I did. So after a lot of coaxing, we decided I would present my case -- disguised as Chester.”

“So you did all this just to help Chester with his career?”

Carewyn’s eyes lingered on the bookshelf in the corner.

“Not entirely,” she admitted.

She clearly seemed to regret that her decision wasn’t solely based on that kind of selfless rationale. She rested her hands on her desk, interlacing the larger fingers belonging to Chester.

“Even if Fudge is no longer in power, the Ministry’s still packed to the gills with his supporters, as well as people who were willing to just scrape and grovel at his feet. It’s safer for me to interact with you all now, but I can’t afford to lose my stable position just yet -- the truth’s come out, but the Ministry isn’t any less treacherous. Dolores Umbridge hasn’t even lost her job here, even after everything she’s done as High Inquisitor. On the contrary...there are rumors circulating she might even return to being Senior Under-Secretary in the future.”

Bill was aghast. “What?”

Carewyn looked just as displeased. “I’m angry too...but there’s nothing I can do. The Department of Magical Law Enforcement can’t charge her with a crime even if the decree making her High Inquisitor has been declared illegal, since she was merely appointed to the position. She had no hand in creating it...at least none that I can prove in a court of law. She’s been put on temporary administrative leave...but that can be overturned by the Minister for Magic. Fudge probably won’t stick around long, and he probably wouldn’t bring Umbridge back for fear of damaging himself further...but I wouldn’t put it past his successor to quietly put Umbridge back in her old post, given her experience as a ‘loyal subordinate.’”

Carewyn could not disguise her clear disgust with the situation, even despite the coolness of her voice and expression.

“I hate that woman,” she said very lowly and coldly. “I hate her with every fiber of my being.”

Bill’s eyes narrowed as he nodded. “I know how you feel. After everything Harry’s told us about her, it’s clear she’s an absolutely horrid person.”

Carewyn looked up, her eyebrows knitting together. “Yes...how is Harry? I heard he was here at the Ministry, when...”

She trailed off, but Bill knew what she meant.

“He’s doing as well as to be expected, from what Ron’s said in his letters. Though I suspect the loss of Sirius is probably hitting him very hard.”

Carewyn bowed her head. “...Yes, of course. He...was his only family left, wasn’t he?”

Bill nodded. Carewyn closed her eyes sadly -- even if she had yet to meet Harry, it was clear she felt very deeply for him, in that moment.

Bill reached a hand out over the desk and took Carewyn’s hand (which of course at the moment was Chester’s), offering her a smile.

“He’s still got all of us, though,” he said reassuringly. “And well...I reckon the two of us know better than anyone how friends can become family.”

Carewyn’s expression softened noticeably. She gave Bill’s hand a tight squeeze.

“We do.”

Her eyes welled up with emotion despite the calm of her face.

“Bill...it’s so good to see you,” she said very quietly.

Her voice betrayed emotions that she never would’ve felt brave enough to show in school. Despite the levelness of her tone, it was so warm and soft -- full of sincere caring.

Bill’s eyes filled up with some tears as he squeezed her hand back.

And as Bill held her gaze, he noticed her eyes changing color -- lightening from a dark brown to a pretty blue.

“Guess it’s time,” he prompted her. “Do you need to change?”

“I suppose so,” Carewyn said dryly. “Chester doesn’t have hips like mine...I reckon I might tear his pants, if I don’t. Mind turning around a minute?”

“No problem.”

Bill turned in the chair so that his long legs were propped up on the arm, resting an arm on his knee so that he could then proceed to lean his chin on his hand and glance away. He heard Carewyn murmur, “Auravelum,” under her breath, presumably to obscure her desk from sight.

There was a lot of shuffling. After a couple of minutes, Carewyn murmured, “Evanesco,” and Bill looked up as the silvery blue curtain she’d conjured vanished.

And there she was -- dressed in flowing forest green robes just like the ones Chester had been wearing while disguised as her, and grinning broadly up at him through a ruby red smile.

Bill’s face broke into a larger grin, his brown eyes sparkling at the sight of his best friend. He got up, swept around the desk, and snatched her up in a huge hug.

The two of them were a funny sight -- a gangling, leather-dressed Cursebreaker with a fang earring and a ponytail hugging a tiny, lady-like witch with makeup and conservative dress robes -- but they clung to each other with an almost fierce kind of affection, laughing happily.

“I have so much to tell you,” murmured Bill. “I hardly know where to start...”

Carewyn’s lips spread into a smile even as her own eyes welled up with tears. “I don’t have as much to tell, I’m sure, but...I’ve missed you so much.”

“Me too,” said Bill. “Not being able to write, or visit -- having to just stay in touch through Tonks and Jae -- ”

“ -- and for a whole year,” Carewyn agreed. “I know.”

She reached up as high as she could, even going on her tiptoes, so she could hold the back of Bill’s head. Bill held the back of her head too, squeezing her tight.

“Are you really engaged now?” asked Carewyn curiously.

Bill was a bit startled. He smiled a bit sheepishly over Carewyn’s shoulder.

“Oh, ah...yeah. You heard about that?”

“No,” said Carewyn uncomfortably. “I...sort of sensed it. In your thoughts.”

Bill pulled away to look at her better, a bit affronted. “Carey!”

Carewyn looked very apologetic as her gaze drifted down to rest on Bill’s shoulder rather than his face.

“I’m sorry! I wasn’t actively using my Legilimency, it’s just...gotten so sensitive now, in this line of work. And I suppose it was one of those things you really wanted to tell me, because I kept seeing you holding a ring, and...well, you asked me to be more open with you, about things.”

Bill’s face was flushed slightly, but he couldn’t stop himself from smiling wryly.

“...So I did. Kind of took some of the wind out of my sails, though.”

Carewyn shot him a cool look through her own light blush. “I’m sure you’ll get back at me for it at some point.”

“Rest assured I will,” said Bill with a grin. “Maybe at the wedding.”

Carewyn blinked in surprise. Then her eyes widened, softening visibly.

“...Are you inviting me?”

“Of course I am!” Bill laughed. “There’s no way in Hell I’m going to let you get away with not being part of it. Actually...”

Bill’s face flushed a bit and he brought a hand up to rub his neck self-consciously.

“...I was...wondering if you’d maybe...if you wanted to...if you’d sing something, for it.”

Carewyn’s eyes widened. “Sing at your wedding?”

“Something for our first dance,” mumbled Bill, smiling shyly through his darkening flush. “Would you?”

Carewyn covered her mouth with both hands, trying to hold in her emotions.

“Of course!” she breathed, her voice oddly high in her throat. Clearly she was very touched.

She quickly grabbed both of Bill’s hands in hers, her blue eyes shining.

“Of course I’ll sing for you...both of you.”

Bill’s flushed face was as bright as a sunrise as he beamed.

“You can pick the song,” he said, his smile becoming a bit more cheeky. “Even something stupid, if you want.”

Carewyn laughed behind her hand. “No way! I am not going to sing something stupid for my best friend’s wedding!”

“Aw...but ‘Agadoo’ is a real jam, isn’t it?”

“It’s complete and utter rubbish and you know it, William Weasley.”

34 notes · View notes