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a-big-apple · 2 years

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Kiriona’s wounds

Ok, fellow boners. I fully and with no hesitation in my heart want everyone to draw what they want, write what they want, and interpret text how they want. That is a core tenet of fandom. But can we talk about Kiriona’s wounds for a minute?

He undid her scarf, and Nona looked away. Beneath the scarf a huge wound in the throat made the neck yawn wide open. When she peeked back, wishing she had her braids to screen everything, she saw that Palamedes had unbuttoned the shirt partway and there was another big wound in the chest--a big purple bloodless puncture wound, with white teeth peeking out coyly from within.

“Damage is consistent with reported injuries. There’s another wound lower down.” (NtN 365-366)

She’s got one wound through her throat, one wound through her chest, and another “lower down” through her abdomen that Nona can’t see because Palamedes is a good polite boy who is not going to pull his dead friend’s whole shirt open. He has no strong reaction to these wounds! They are as expected, “consistent with reported injuries.” They are the same wounds Camilla saw Gideon receive when she died.

We know from Kiriona that the chest wound obliterated her heart. I know everyone is taught in elementary school that the heart is on the left side of the chest, but it’s only a little bit to the left. It’s really very close to the center, behind the sternum, which is the bone in the front of the chest where the first seven ribs attach.

(diagram from Wikipedia)

I know a wound with human teeth in it is wicked cool and also not at all outside the realm of possibility for The Locked Tomb, given the stoma, and the devils with teeth-eyes, and the flowers with teeth that John grew for Cassy and Nigella’s wedding. But I don’t think John was messing with Kiriona’s body; he didn’t even have to preserve it personally, since we know from “As Yet Unsent” that it was incorruptible even when it was in BOE’s hands. Gideon is his flesh and blood; his touch and his power have likely been working on her since the day she was conceived.

I don’t think there are human mouth teeth growing in Kiriona’s chest wound--that is definitely something Palamedes would comment on, especially since Paul is surprised and needs a reminder when they see the teeth-eyes on possessed people on the Ninth. I interpret “white teeth peeking out coyly” as the broken edges of Kiriona’s ribs; a puncture wound that went through her heart would also have had to break through her sternum, leaving ragged tips of rib and cartilage behind. Nona, as she does constantly through the book, is describing what she sees in terms of what she can understand. She’s not an anatomist, and she has no interest in bones.

So, back to the three wounds, as a set. Given the position of the heart in the body, the throat wound and the chest wound are relatively centered. I think we can assume that the third wound follows these two in a fairly straight line, because that’s how fence posts are arranged. Tamsyn peppers in descriptions of the fence Gideon throws herself on throughout the final fight; it’s described as having “bent, bowed spikes,” damaged, like everything in Canaan House. Imagine a wrought iron garden fence with spiked posts, falling apart, bowed this way and that. Gideon “fell forward, right on the iron spikes.” I’m picturing a segment of three, evenly spaced, in line with each other--creating three evenly spaced puncture wounds in her body.

(this great picture came from flickr)

I’m perfectly ready to be proven wrong in Alecto, but I really think Kiriona’s wounds are a simple result of her manner of death, cauterized and preserved by what divine power resides in her already, and not terrifying mouths John stuck into her for some unknown reason. And fandom should keep fandoming and putting teeth wherever we want and imagining all kinds of awful what ifs, because that’s our bread and butter! Just wanted to walk through what I pictured, because I’m not much of an artist.

(Also, sorry, I just have to say while I’m here that I am in love with Palamedes as Doubting Thomas checking out Gideon’s wounds and using psychometry to make sure it’s really her. Extremely poignant to me! I took Thomas as my confirmation name--for Thomas Aquinas, but still--and I’m fond of nerds who need evidence to believe things.)

#the locked tomb #the locked tomb meta #nona the ninth spoilers #ntn spoilers #two days in a row i'm on a roll or something

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thelastarchangelaskblog · 5 years

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Sixth Year Bonus Scene 2

This is the longest bonus scene, I think, but please don’t quote me on that. This is also probably one of the ones I’m super excited to share with you guys!

This will also go up on AO3 eventually but for now it will remain on this tumblr. Again, don’t be shy to leave a note or drop by my ask! :)

Bonus Scene 1

Bonus Scene 3

Bonus Scene 4

Bonus Scene 5

Bonus Scene 6

Bonus Scene 7

Bonus Scene 8

Bonus Scene 9

Bonus Scene 10

Bonus Scene 11

His parents had been subdued ever since he came home from Hogwarts. It wasn’t unexpected considering his father’s sudden physical disabilities but it was still a drastic change from previous summers.

His father’s eyesight had been deemed incurable by St. Mungo’s best and by several specialists they had called in. As for his magic...no one had been able to offer an explanation for what had happened.

His father had some inkling of what had happened but had refused to say anything on what he had been doing in the Department of Mysteries that night. Draco privately thought it was clear enough given his father’s loyalties to the Dark Lord. His parents had kept him out of those matters as best as they could, but he wasn’t dumb enough to miss those signs.

(Read more for mobile users!)

Hogwarts had been a relief that year as he hadn’t needed to be shooed away to different rooms of his own house while his parents held clandestine meetings with other notable supporters of the Dark Lord.

Although now that Voldemort was dead and this time for good, Draco thought that things might have been better. It was a foolish hope given what had happened to his father. Nothing could be the same after that.

The Malfoy family would save face; they had bribed everyone who had been involved in his father’s treatment to remain silent. Anything more…it wouldn’t do for word to spread that the Malfoy head had lost his magic.

Wayne could be trusted, but he was the only one Draco had spoken to about what had happened to his father.

Draco smiled, brushing a finger over the last letter Wayne had sent him. His letters had been a little slow in coming this year, although Wayne had said in his first letter that he would be traveling a bit this summer.

He looked out his window to the flowering garden his mother liked to keep, cast in pink and orange from the light of the setting sun. There were a few peacocks in view. Peacocks his father would never be able to see again.

Mood dimming, Draco pressed his lips together, turning away from the window. His father might be strict, might be...bigoted, but he was still his father. It wasn’t easy seeing his father like this, relearning the basics of living and with glass eyes in place of where his previous ones had been.

They’d been hoping for something more akin to Mad-Eye Moody’s magical eyeballs, but those only worked if there was still something to see with. It wasn’t just his father’s eyes that had been burnt out but everything that humans needed to see with as well.

And the healers had been unable to regrow those pathways.

Draco pushed back the memory of seeing his father grope for his breakfast utensils, of seeing him knock down a glass of water because he’d misjudged its location, of seeing him use a cane to feel his way around as he walked…

His door slammed open, an unfamiliar woman standing there with a stern, almost gleeful expression.

Draco reeled back, wand dropping into his hand. “Who are you?”

The woman fixed him with a nasty smile. “Our master would like a word with you,” she said, still smiling.

A chill ran down Draco’s spine. “Who’s your master?”

The woman tilted her head, still with that smile. “I think you know.”

Draco cast his mind back over the day, recalling his parents had been unusually eager to have him out of the house or somewhere else. He hadn’t seen hide or hair of them or of the house-elves.

“Who are you?” he asked again.

The woman’s smile started to slip a little. “Our master grows short in patience, boy. I don’t think you’ll like him when he’s angry.”

“I don’t think I like him now,” Draco heard himself saying, despite his better judgment.

The smile was now entirely gone, replaced with an ugly look. “You can either come of your own free will or I will make you. Which will it be?”

Draco hesitated, considering the likelihood of success if he stunned, jinxed, or cursed her. He might be able to do it, but there was no telling how many other strange people were in the manor and he definitely couldn’t fight them off.

Especially if this master was who he thought it was.

But he was dead. His mother had seen the body herself and told Draco it would be fine.

Draco let his wand hand drop, pulling in a slow, steadying breath and walking out his room. His skin crawled at the thought of the woman at his back but he didn’t have any choice.

The dead couldn’t come back twice. They shouldn’t come back twice.

But Voldemort had been known to defy the odds before, and Draco had had a terrible feeling…

He could be wrong. It could be another Dark Lord on the rise.

Who just happened to come to Malfoy Manor? Who just happened to come here?

Draco found himself in the dining room, staring down the large dining table that was seating nine other unfamiliar wizards and witches in dark robes. His father and mother were at the far end of the table, both sitting next to each other with pale, blank faces.

There was a tall, bald man by the roaring fire in the grate. Draco couldn’t see his face, but he could see bleeding, gruesome marks engraved into the back of the man’s head.

There was a wizard by the man’s side, one with a silver right hand.

“I’ve brought the boy, my Lord,” the witch said without prompting. She went to sit by another man, the two of them looking similar enough that Draco dimly pegged them as siblings.

Alecto and Amycus Carrow, something in him whispered, recalling his lessons from You-Know-Who’s first reign.

“Draco Malfoy,” the tall man at the fire said in a sibilant voice. Long, pale fingers ran across the mantlepiece of the fireplace.

Draco said nothing, heart loud in his ears.

The man turned, and Draco had his first look at the man the Wizarding World knew as Lord Voldemort. His breath stalled in his throat when he caught sight of the marks carved into the man’s face - so many of them that he had only the slightest inkling of what his actual skin color was. But his eyes were red with snake-like pupils, his nose twin slits in his face.

Voldemort grinned, his teeth startling white when set against the macabre sight of his face. “You know who I am.”

Draco swallowed thickly, eyes sliding to his parents. His mother hadn’t moved, but he could see her watching him.

“Yes,” Draco managed, voice a near whisper.

“Speak up,” Voldemort said impatiently. “I detest whispers.”

Draco pulled in a breath, then repeated himself in a louder voice, glad when his voice didn’t crack.

“Very good.” Voldemort smiled at him, a river of blood trickling down one cheek where the skin split as a result. “Do you know why I called you here?”

Draco didn’t think a simple head shake would suffice. “No.”

Voldemort looked disappointed. “Ah. I had thought…”

Draco remained still as Voldemort moved, slowly walking over to the empty chair at the head of the table. He sat down gracefully, holding up a hand that was also marred with the bleeding marks.

What the bloody hell had happened that Voldemort was as carved as a turkey?

Draco closed his eyes as the mental image assaulted him, biting hard at the inside of his mouth before he could break down into inappropriate laughter that would likely get him and his parents killed.

They could still get killed at this rate. But maybe there was a way out.

“Come, Draco.” Voldemort curled a finger at Draco, clearly indicating that he was to move closer.

That was the last thing Draco wanted as he had been very comfortable here at the doorway but he knew refusing would be unwise.

Keeping his face as blank as he could, Draco closed the distance between him and Voldemort, trying to keep his breathing even instead of as panicked as he was currently feeling.

“I have a task for you, Draco,” Voldemort said once Draco was standing next to him. “One you are perfectly suited for as a student at Hogwarts.”

Draco’s position put him directly opposite of his parents. He briefly met his mother’s eyes, reading nothing but horror and panic in them before he turned his gaze back to Voldemort’s, finding and catching the man’s red eyes.

He could do this and not get himself killed. He had been born to do this.

“I’m sure there are others better suited,” Draco said, “than one who just finished his fifth year. Surely you require someone with more advanced talents?”

“No,” Voldemort said, holding Draco’s eyes intently, “I think you will find you are very well suited for this particular task.”

Draco swallowed, eyes flicking over to the table and the eleven Death Eaters seated there. All of them infinitely more advanced than he was in the art of magic, and all of them perfectly willing to kill.

“What would you ask of me?” Draco asked.

Voldemort said nothing, looking instead to the rest of the Death Eaters. As if a signal had been given, they stood and filed out of the room, leaving just Draco, his parents, and the Dark Lord.

Voldemort turned back to Draco, face unreadable. “You will kill Albus Dumbledore.”

Draco blinked, the words not immediately registering. “I will what?” Then, “Are you - I can’t.”

“I think you will find that you can. Unless you wish to face the consequences.”

Draco moved a small step, eyes flicking between Voldemort and his parents. “How do you expect me to kill him? I just finished my OWLs.”

“I’m sure you will come up with something,” Voldemort said silkily. “You are your father’s son, are you not?” The words were said with a slight sneer that suggested they were not the compliment most would mean them as.

Kill Dumbledore? The man Voldemort feared? What the bloody hell?

Draco knew what this was. This was a damn suicide mission; Voldemort fully expected him to fail.

That was if Draco even intended on doing it, which he didn’t. He’d made his decision. He wasn’t going to be his father or his mother. He wasn’t going to follow in his ancestors’ footsteps.

It had been painful, but he’d had his eyes opened. He knew things were different - were better than what his parents had taught him.

So he’d agree because he wasn’t the sort of fool to defy the Dark Lord to his face. Term wasn’t that far off; he could hold out long enough until he got to Hogwarts and then figure something out with Wayne’s help.

Wayne could help. He was brilliant yet absolutely oblivious to subtle cues, sometimes downright scary when something pissed him off, and so caring that Draco often wondered what he’d done to get Wayne as a friend. Because he was Draco’s friend.

A slow, terrifying smile crossed Voldemort’s face. “You have a friend, Draco?”

Draco stopped breathing, numbness spreading through him.

“Wayne, was it?” Voldemort tapped a finger against the table. “I’ve heard of him. A bright, clever boy, isn’t he?”

Draco managed a breath, ears ringing. “You leave him alone.”

“Oh.” Voldemort’s eyes widened. “What’s that I hear? Is he actually your friend? Do you care about him?”

“You don’t touch Wayne!” Draco snapped, seeing his mother’s jaw drop out of the corner of his eye. “Don’t you dare.”

All amusement vanished from Voldemort’s face. “Watch your tone, boy.”

“Or what? You’ll kill me? Like this task you’ve given me isn’t going to do that anyway? You honestly expect a sixteen-year-old boy to take down the Headmaster of Hogwarts? A man you fear?” Draco wasn’t entirely sure where the words were coming from or where he’d found the courage (or foolhardiness). “I know who you are. Don’t think you can fool me with pretty words.”

Voldemort narrowed his eyes, head turning to Draco’s parents.

“I’m sorry, my Lord,” Draco’s father said, looking in the general direction of Voldemort. “Draco doesn’t know what he’s saying. He’s young.”

“Enough, Lucius. Your son knows exactly what he’s saying.” There was nothing but cold, steely anger in Voldemort’s voice. “I never thought you would be so foolish as to raise an idiot for a child.”

“Please,” Draco’s mother said, “he’s a boy.”

“Yes,” Voldemort said, “he is. He’s your son, Lucius. And I find myself in need of another Malfoy after the last one so egregiously failed me in his last task.”

Draco’s father ducked his head. “I apologize, my Lord.”

This was punishment for whatever Draco’s father had failed to do before losing both his sight and his magic. Draco was only surprised that Voldemort had said nothing about his father losing his magic, but maybe his parents had hidden that. His father still had his wand in possession.

Voldemort returned his attention to Draco, face as cold as his voice. “Let me put this another way as you seem not to care about your own safety, Draco. Should you refuse this task or fail it, Wayne Hopkins will be punished.”

Draco’s voice died in his throat as Voldemort held his eyes. “Should you attempt to warn anyone,” the Dark Lord continued softly, “he will be punished.”

Draco’s father’s face was expressionless, but his mother was clearly pleading with him to be reasonable.

“Now,” Voldemort said after a moment’s silence, “what is your answer?”

He didn’t even have to think about it. No. No. He couldn’t put Wayne at risk. Not Wayne.

“I’ll do it,” Draco said lowly.

Voldemort’s lips stretched into a slow smile. “Very good, young Draco.” His tone was patronizing. “Hold out your left arm.”

Draco snapped his head back, reflexively meeting his father’s eyes before remembering that his father couldn’t see anymore. There was no help coming from that avenue regardless.

He’d made the choice to not follow in his father’s footsteps. He’d made that choice.

Eyes burning, Draco pulled back his sleeve, baring the skin of his left forearm and holding it for Voldemort. He kept his eyes open, teeth gritted against the prickling in his eyes and the burning in his skin.

Later, his father found Draco in his room, staring down at the brand burned into his skin.

Draco could feel it tugging at his magic, a vile, black thing that he had once wanted when he was younger. Now...it was the last thing he’d ever wanted and he had it.

He couldn’t be Wayne’s friend with this foul thing on his skin.

“I don’t want it,” Draco said lowly, looking up to his father. “I made my choice; I wasn’t going to be like you. I was going to be different.”

There was no anger or recrimination on his father’s face but rather a quiet emotion that Draco wasn’t sure how to read. “I know.”

Draco hesitated. “You do?”

His father slowly made his way to the other seat, carefully sitting down on it before speaking again. “You are a better man than I ever will be.”

Draco gave a short laugh. “Not anymore I’m not.”

His father leaned forward, hands white-knuckled on his cane. “Draco...you agreed to this because of your friends. Not because of anything you wanted.”

“It doesn’t matter. What I have to do…” Draco closed his eyes. He was as good as dead regardless of what he did. The odds were so badly stacked against him that he was more likely to fail and if he did...Wayne would be killed. If he told anyone...Wayne would be killed. The Dark Lord had made it very clear in the past that no one was safe even with stringent magical protections.

Draco couldn’t risk Wayne’s safety. He couldn’t.

“Trust in your friends,” his father said, voice low and urgent. “Do you hear me, Draco?”

Draco had never heard such words from his father before. It had always been “Malfoys don’t have friends, Draco. They have allies and beneficial contacts. You would do well to remember that.” And then there was Wayne…

“Malfoys don’t have friends,” Draco said.

“Apparently I was wrong,” his father said, smiling wryly. “You have one, don’t you? A very dear one.”

Draco was glad his father couldn’t see the heat in his cheeks. “It doesn’t matter,” he repeated.

His father was quiet for a long moment, leaving Draco to return to studying the Dark Mark on his left arm.

“Trust in your friend,” his father said, slowly standing. “Draco...know that regardless of what you do...you will make me proud.”

Draco’s throat dried up as he watched his father carefully exit his room. Then, breath escaping on a ragged exhale, he squeezed his eyes shut and pressed his right hand to his face, pressing his fingers to his eyes.

He trusted Wayne. Wayne was his best friend. He - he loved Wayne.

Draco would be damned twice over if he dragged his best friend down with him.

#sixth year #first born #my writing #bonus scene

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hvedless · 3 years

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* ⟢ NOW INTRODUCING ━━ ❝ ALECTO CARROW !

this is my first time playing alecto tbh , so i hope i can do her justice ! i’m still feeling her out so pls bare with me

the basics //

full name : alecto carrow .

birthdate & zodiac :

gender & pronouns : cis woman. she / her.

sexuality : bisexual .

bloodstatus : pureblood .

house & year : slytherin . sixth .

label : the caliginous .

deeper dive //

traits : + shrewd & debonair . - capricious & dramatic .

aesthetics : dead flowers wilting on white window sills , a collection of expensive jewelry , eyes like daggers shooting across corridors , & ink splatters on parchment paper .

bio //

alecto carrow was the light of her father’s eyes , but a mistake in her mother’s. her relationship with her had always been very complicated . her mother favored amycus , and often turned a cold shoulder to her . she was also a lot harder on alecto . she had high expectations for her daughter , and tried to control everything from what she wore , what she studied , who she hung around . she was always boring her with lessons on how to be a proper lady , and teaching her a whole bunch of stuff she had no interest in . she spent a lot of her childhood defying her mother , and though it pissed off her father and ‘ ruined their reputation ’ she continued to act out . when she was younger , she wondered why her mother hated her , but the more she grew without a mothers love , the less she cared .

behind the facade of the picture perfect carrow family , lied a bunch of secrets and ugliness . her parents fought often , nearly everyday . her father had such an awful temper . ( it’s where she got her from ) he cheated with multiple women , and her mother acted as if she didn’t know . even though she did . there was times when their father would disappear , and would make it up to the family with meaningless gifts and money . it was the one thing that she really hated about her father , she loved him nonetheless . the two of them had always been very close , and he was always there to bail her out of trouble .

despite their home life , i’d like to imagine amycus and alecto always maintained a strong , sibling bond . she finds herself to be extremely protective of her brother , she will hex you ( or kill ) no hesitation . family and loyalty is something that is very important to alecto . despite all her bad ways , the one thing she would never do is betray someone close to her .

she is very much into the death eaters . their ideals , the chills their names send down the spines of others , voldemort . alecto is set to be marked soon, something she is very excited about . she’s been working hard on perfecting darker spells ( if ur down to have ur character be a target practice lmk ok) , dueling . despite being a troublemaker , alecto is a very intelligent and skilled witch . she takes great pride in this , and boasts about it often . it’s part of the reason she is so competitive . she is obsessed with the idea of winning and being on the top . she can not stand to loose .

she has conflicting feelings about school . she loves to learn but it’s the people around her that she can’t stand . she has most likely had the same few ‘friends’ since her first year . alecto is known to be a bully and a mean girl . she finds it amusing , and a great pass time . she is also always getting herself into trouble at school , and is on the verge of being expelled nearly every year . though of course , her father always comes to her rescue .

personality wise , alecto is definitely a little shit . i like to call her the ice queen , because she is very cold , and rude . she was no regard for others or their feelings . she will walk all over someone if you let her , and will laugh about it after . there are very high walls up around her , and she doesn’t dare let many get close . she does not do feelings , hardly does friendships or commitment . she is dramatic and will throw a major fit for all to see . she is also a chaotic mix of tempermental , impulsive , and reckless . alecto is always finding her way into some kind of trouble , but she thrives off of it . the only .,,, redeeming ?? qualities she has is that she’s loyal and fun ! if there’s one thing she knows how to do , it’s party and have a great time . she does not do well with boredom and will make fun for herself . she is also super fashionable , and always dressing to impress . if there’s one thing she took from her mother , it was that first impressions are everything .

some wanted connections are enemies/rivals , people she bullies , old childhood friends , flings/fwb , exes , dueling partners ( someone she duels with outside of the class ) friends turned enemies , unlikely friends , gimme a muggleborn that actually saved her , and she sworn them to secrecy about it but she’s always worried they’re gonna tell

#ehqintro

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