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rboooks · 1 day

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More unlikely Slytherin raising Harry?

Hubert fights to not roll his eyes as yet another woman flutters her eyelids at his uncle. She is leaning a little to close to the man, half draped over the table that the book store has set up for autographs.

Another book signing where the lines were more there to lust after the author then read his work. Sitting in a chair a little ways behind Uncle Tom, Hubert tries not to fidget with impatience knowing it would be disgraceful of him to make a scene.

He had a reputation to uphold. His uncle had raised him with proper manners and had been hiring tutors to insure he keep ahead of the richest school he was attended. He rubbed elbows with all the upper crust kids who his uncle taught to charm and mingle in.

Hubert knew any slip up could be held against him in the world of the rich and famous which why he always keeps control of his body and actions, with great care.

After all, “A proper gentleman knew how to run a ball even without a ballroom” So he sits with the proper poster and reads his own book- nothing he Uncle writes- about dragons and the wizard Merlin. (his Uncle has always made faces at any mention of Merlin) without so much of a hair out of place, emotions are carefully hidden by a pleasant relax mask.

The woman leans forward to give his uncle a chance to look down her shirt. Uncle Tom keeps his eyes politely on her face instead.

A part of him wants to tell her it's hopeless because as far as he is aware his Uncle Tom hasn't found anyone attractive since Hubert was a baby. Though he had noticed the backward glances he uncle shoot a bloke that one time- however that couldn't have been for any reason. Hubert knows the lady will be forgotten as soon as she steps away, only to be replaced with another fawning woman wanted to sing his uncle writing false praise.

They always did. Half of Uncle Tom's fans were more interested in the author then the stories he created. It wasn't too hard to see why, at thirty-two his uncle still seems attractive, young enough for a bride, rich enough to sustain a family for three generations and with the mannerism of a manor Lord, Uncle Tom had many women chasing him. It was rather sad sometimes.

Not that Hubert would ever point it out in public; a lady's reputation was easier to smear and harder to clean then a gentleman's and Uncle Tom made sure to raise a proper gentleman. Hubert was expected to act like that of his rightful standing, having come from a family of old money. Hubert didn't know too much about his family or the life his Uncle lead before his grandparents died.

The family was a touche topic for his uncle.

In fact as far as his biological father went Hubert knew very little, since his guardian and father didn't part on the friendliest of terms. The last time they spoke was when his Uncle had been fifteen, one argument that went too far breaking the bond they had beyond any repair.

A few years later his father and mother had been killed during a house robbery, and Hubert had been the only known survivor, the murder still at large, along with the other cold cases of a seller killer that was running around the same time. The law enforcement believed that the incidents were connected but haven’t found anything in the last decade to prove it.

He was handed over to Uncle Tom as his last living relative, having called the man in the dead of night. Upon learning he was now in charge of raising a child, his uncle had bought an old victorian house on a hill, - said to be haunted but his Uncle found it amusing people believed so.

According to him, there was nothing floating around, and if there was a ghost they would know. Uncle Tom had paid a small fortune to have the house rebuilt to its former glory, and Hubert grew in a what could as well been a mansion with its private land surrounded by a thick forest and its own small lake.

The closest neighbors were a good forty-minute drive away, just as Uncle Tom like it.

“In case we need to hide your accidental magic” Uncle Tom used to say back when Hubert believed in silly things like magic and Father Chrismas. “We can never be too careful”

His father would have adored it according to his uncle. Sometimes Hubert wonders if when he looked at him did he see the brother or the nephew but didn’t dare to voice the question.

He once asked what disagreement was about. His uncle had gone very quiet staring at the ring he keeps on at all times- not that Hubert knew why the thing wasn't even that valuable but he supposes he has never seen such an impressive carving of Sirius constellation on metal. "He didn't agree with the life choices I was making at the time. I thought he was picking a foolish path. In the end, we went our separate ways. It is my greatest regret."

Hubert often wondered what Uncle Tom could have possibly done that his father disagreed so much with. He had a suspicion, after all, that one backward glance to the passing bloke was a one-time thing but it happened.

He didn’t feel very comfortable with the idea of coming from a man who didn’t tolerate same-sex love, so Hubert tried not to think about it. He would accept Uncle Tom regardless of who the man loved, he just needed to wait for the man to think him old enough to talk about it.

His parents' and grandparents' disapproval were no longer important. Jake and Rose Saiph were long dead anyway, it best to leave it at that. Even if Hubert wondered sometimes what it would have been like to have a mom and dad instead of an uncle.

“Hello dear, who may I make this out to?” Uncle Tom greets a girl with bushy hair and buck teeth. Hubert is surprised to find someone his age in line since the story was fantasy but it was more geared towards young adults. Too many words.

“Hermione Ganger please sir” She squeaks looking like she was meeting a movie star. Her face is flushed, and she seems slightly shaken with star stuck eyes. The woman accompany her- her mother based off the similar features- isn’t fairing any better. “Can I just say, sir, that I adore all your work? I read all your books, I’ve even got the special edition from Paris- and I was so excited about the newest release. I waited in line outside the book store for three whole hours!”

Uncle Tom chuckles, signing the special edition that she must have specialized ordered with an elegant twirl of his wrist. Hubert is a little impressed by it, that copy had a fancier cover with accompanying illustrations on the inside of pages, it was also twice the regular price. “Thank you very much for your support deary. My nephew could learn a thing or two of supporting this old man from you.”

Suprise to have attention on him, Hubert easily plays if off by lifting his head and offering Ganger a winning smile, that he knows rings true to Uncle’s looks. As he suspected she stares before flushing bright red. He gives her a small nod and then locks eyes with her mother to do the same before responding “I support you, plenty uncle. I always make sure you turn in your manuscript by the deadline. Without me, there would be no books in Fallen Son.”

Uncle Tom chuckles, which causes the female Gangers to crack a smile each. Poor dears wouldn’t last a day in the upper-class world. Much too open with their thoughts.

The girl opens her mouth to say something, only to jerk in surprise as the ten balloons surrounding the table burst in loud pops, one right after the other, as if though someone had gone at them with a needle each.

A few people in line scream at the sudden noise and all the color drains from Ganger’s face. Her mother places her hands on her shoulders, face turning fiercely protective. Hubert himself had jumped in his sit the closest of them all to them.

Uncle Tom doesn’t even bat an eye the jerk. Standing to boy slightly at the whispering people “Terrible sorry about that ladies and gentlemen. I may have bought some defeated decorations in my effort to lighten up my nephew’s day.”

His disregarding of the strange occasion ease the crowd into chuckles as if he had purposely set up exploding decoration for a prank seem like something normal. A perfect example of saying something with enough confidence it would appear true.

Ganger’s face relaxes, some of the color returning but much more reserved than before. She no longer rocks on her heels or seems to burst from excitement anymore.

Hubert is quite surprised when Uncle returns her book he offers her a soft understanding smile. “You are a very special young lady.”

Now, what is this man up to?

Ganger’s face has fallen “I’m Blaze”

Hubert knows that to the villain in Fallen Son, which he quickly corrects seeing his chance to win her favor. “Blaze learned to control his abilities and became the general of the army. He was evil at first but he isn’t now. You could be the next general, don’t sell yourself short for a few strange happenings. Life would be boring that way.”

Ganger gives him a weak smile at that but she still flees all the same.

When the two leave and the book signing finishes Hubert asks why his Uncle had bothered with attempting to gain the Ganger’s favor.

“She will most likely be your classmate in Hogwarts. Best for muggle-borns to stick together and if we want your story to stick we must build up the illusion starting now- which reminds me, we must reapply your make-up the scar is peaking through.” Uncle answers as Joel- their chauffeur- drive them home kept behind glass to have their privacy.

Hubert rolls his eyes. “Uncle Tom, I’m not a child anymore-”

“Are you above the age of twenty?”

“No”

“Then you are a child,” His uncle says with a slight smirk. Hubert fumes for a moment before calming down. When one raises their voice in a disagreement its because they are losing the argument. Hubert is not losing.

“Uncle Tom, I am not a foolish child. I don’t believe in magic-”

“How can someone from my own family say something so terrible? Of course, you believe in magic. We are magic, even if I don’t have a wand to show you. I am a pureblood and you a half-blood but we will masquerading as muggle-borns. You will be a second-generation, of course, but still considered muggle-born none the less. I know I told you all this when I went over all the changes your body was going through a year ago-”

“Thank you, Uncle Tom, we don’t have to bring that up!” Hubert interrupts face burning. He refuses to think of that delightful “welcome to puberty” conversation when he turned ten. His Uncle had given it to him earlier than his classmates due to his “magic”.

Sometimes he wondered if Uncle Tom was mad, because he honestly believed in magic and that somehow Hubert was a person named Harry who defeated a great evil that he used to follow. Rubbish.

At least he thought so until an owl delivered a letter at their house and Uncle Tom took it with great care. “After so long, I’m finally going back. Come, Hubert, we have your supplies to buy.”

Hubert went with him, thinking it was for the secondary school only to be shocked when they entered a pub instead and thankful had his meltdown at home behind closed doors. He has just been in a hidden magic market place he thinks he deserves it “Wait you mean you weren’t just making up bedtime stories for me? I really am magic and we were are hiding from wizard hit men!? Is my whole life a lie?!”

“Not all of it. Just most.”

“Uncle Tom are you even my uncle!?”

“.....Distantly. We’re more like cousins three times removed. The Potter and the Blacks have married but we are so inbred that-”

“STOP!”

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rboooks · 1 day

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Harry being raised by a unlikely Slytherin that's not Snape

Regulus stares at the child on the ground, crying it’s little eyes out on some muggle’s doorstep and wonders why he still there.

When he took the locket, he ran to the muggle world. He left behind the magic in hopes of learning how to destroy the cursed thing without being discovered. He faked his death, he had Krecher change coins for paper currency to live off of and snapped his wand in half.

With his own hands, he broke a part of himself, the lifeless wood pieces left at a Death Eater raid with a corpse so realistic his parents had a mental break down in public upon discovering it. Regulus had been there for his own funeral, unable to stay away, disguised as a mourning friend.

It hurt to know they question him having friends instead of the person he created more, but in the end, no one cared enough to ask more, to look deeper. He stood in the crowd listening to people give speeches about his greatness, about the sadness it was to lose him, and about how close they had been with the late Black.

None of them have gotten a thing correct. The closest has been Sirius, who arrived drunk and uninvited. His older brother had spent his entire speech asking his coffin if he missed their bond, in different tones of sorrow and rage. Lupin had to drag him away before his brother embarrassed himself even more, though only Regulus looked back at him as his brother sobbed into his friend’s shoulder seconds before they disapparate away.

After the funeral, Regulus went to find a place to live. He needed somewhere close enough to stay aware of the war, but far away enough his secret mission could be complete.

He ended up picking the least magical neighbor he could find, allowing himself to let go of all that made his heritage and culture. Gone was the long flowing waving hair of a nobleman in its place was the short style muggles associated with the working class that left his ears cold.

Gone were the free-falling robes that glided behind him, in their place the skin-tight suits the muggles aww-ed whenever he scurried by in the busy streets. They were stuffy but not overly different upon his skin, had he been born a muggle he would have worn them by choice he thinks.

Kreacher had been kind enough to steal enough money which would allow him to live a comfortable life, having stolen a deceased cousin’s inheritance who gallons his parents wouldn't even blink an eye at.

It left him a very rich man in the muggle world, with the proper exchange rate. However it would make him stand out, something he did not want even in a whole other world to his own, because the small chance someone would notice, someone would realize something wasn’t quite right with him the chance of a Killing Curse would not be far behind if that information came back to the Death Eaters.

He needed to appear an upper-middle- his own mannerisms would give him away, being middle or lower class would be impossible to act- the young man who wanted to start over somewhere with his recently dead parents money.

Regulus didn’t know anything about the muggle world, not enough to find a way to make a living but he knew how to write and he knew how to tell lies into a perfect story. He bought a type-writer, practiced until his fingers didn’t stiff up over the keys, and he weaved a perfect web of lies.

His lies were published in his own novel. A success among muggles for the fantasy elements and romance he sprinkled in. His parents had taught him how to work the floor of their balls, he knew what people wanted. Regulus had his book sold out, and a request for a reprint not long after.

His second novel was much the same. And on it went. He wrote his dreams and wishes, never allowing them to get too close to real magic but he let everything he held in since he was a child became free upon his little type-writer.

Regulus then changed his name, unable to keep one so obvious. He found he couldn’t let go of the constellations so easily, giving himself the last name Saiph and slapping the least impressive first name he could think of.

Tom Saiph moved into 6 Privet Drive not long after the newlywed couple Vernon and Petunia Dursley, in that muggle home, he buried the locket in his new basement where it’s dark magic couldn’t affect him.

Things were fine for a while, besides some well-meaning mothers and grandmothers who all swear up and down they knew the perfect woman for him, Regulus found he had no complaints about living there. Three full years passed, where he still looked for ways to stop the war but he also got comfortable.

He enjoyed writing, his neighbors, the sights, the scents, the scenes. He liked them all. He enjoyed his new life, free of any expectations. Here, he was not the second son who could never be good enough, here he wasn’t the spare kept around to uphold the family name, here, he was simply a young novelist who made the women swoon when he walked by.

Tom Saiph was much happier then Regulus Black could ever be.

That’s why the moment he sensed magic being used so close to his home one night while working on a particularly tricky scene, he froze at his desk, fingers poised over the type writer’s keys. He hadn’t realized how late it has gotten, have been too caught up in his latest story.

Regulus felt magic right there out on the street passing by his yard and gliding near. Fearing the worst, he crept to downstairs, heart pounding. Peaking through his curtains he watched a wizard- for surely only a wizard would wear robes- set something on the doorsteps of 4 Privet Drive.

When nothing else happened for another twenty minutes he got enough courage to open his door to and investigate. What could a wizard possibly give a muggle couple?

A baby.

A small little thing with wails loud enough to make his head ring, and a scar that radicated magic he recognized. The same kind of magic inside the locket of Slytherin.

This meant the Dark Lord made more. He had more.

And he could get rid of one of them right now, could end one life to save many. He just needed to kill an innocent.

“Oh, what am I doing?” Regulus asks bending down. His hands were meant to curl around the child’s throat, instead, he finds himself bringing up the child to his chest to hold against the cold. He rocks the baby until his cries turn to small whimpers. “Oh, what am I doing?”

He turns and he heads home, the letter, and basket under his other arm.

The next morning Privet Drive finds out Tom has lost his brother and was now the guardian of his nephew, Hubert Saiph. The boy is as much as a delight as his uncle, cooing at anyone who looked his way causing smiles all around, but they don’t stay long. Tom moves away, a few days before Miss Figg moved in a street over.

Such a shame she never got to meet him but the woman was invited to the book club, that Privet Drive hosted bi-weekly.

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rboooks · 3 days

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Bracket Schedule

Round 1, Side 1: Saturday, April 20, 1PM PDT (1 week)

Round 1, Side 2: Sunday, April 21, 1PM PDT (1 week)

Round 2, Side 1: Monday, April 29, 1PM PDT (1 week)

Round 2, Side 2: Tuesday, April 30, 1PM PDT (1 week)

Round 3: Wednesday, May 8, 10AM PDT (1 day)

Round 4: Thursday, May 9, 12PM PDT (1 day)

Quarterfinals: Friday, May 10, 2PM PDT (1 day)

Semifinals: Saturday, May 11, 4PM PDT (1 day)

Finals: Sunday, May 12, 6PM PDT (1 week)

Results: Sunday, May 19, 6PM PDT

We have decided to run only the first two rounds and the finals for a week, in order to prevent mod burnout.

#i love these things #go vote for your tumblr ships!

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rboooks · 8 days

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“Dumbledore announcing that, unfortunately, Professor Lockhart would be unable to return next year, owing to the fact that he needed to go away and get his memory back. Quite a few teachers joined in the cheering that greeted this news.”

Yea so this is how I decided it happens🌝

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rboooks · 8 days

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Au where Severus and Sirius are both Harry’s godfathers and have to raise Harry together divorced parent style

Imagine the drop off tension

they are united in their concern!

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rboooks · 8 days

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anyone else play this game when they were younger?

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rboooks · 8 days

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Snape making his first born by himself like

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rboooks · 8 days

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This is funny

4 years after graduation wasn’t long enough for Filch to forget the silhouette of a spidery student skulking around in the dark.

I saw a post (can’t remember by whom) that said something along the line of Snape probably getting mistaken for a student by Argus Filch when he first started teaching at Hogwarts. I thought it was funny, so I put it into a drawing🌝

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rboooks · 12 days

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Hi guys!

This a little self-promotion if anyone would like to donate. I'm trying to save up to for a mother's day suprise for my mama so any bit helps!

If you can't, that's too fine too!

#self-promotion

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rboooks · 23 days

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can we please get a snippet of the Grindelwald!Harry AU?? Maybe Gellert tracks Harry down and like wants to apologize for being absent but Harry’s like you’re not my dad!! And Gellerts like o.O my son hates me so much that he won’t even acknowledge me.

orrr something about exactly WHY everyone thinks Harry’s Gellert son

Or literally anything. I’m obsessed

This is the first thing that popped into my mind 😂

——————————

“I’m sorry - what?”

Albus took a calming sip of his tea, humming in appreciation at the pleasant taste, before placing it back on the saucer and looking at the young man across from him. There was nothing of Gellert in him, not in looks or personality or even in the flavour of magic that emanated from him; and it only solidified the suspicion in his mind that this was not the long-lost son of his old friend.

Certainly, Gellert never would have allowed such a…gobsmacked look to cross his face.

Amusement bubbled merrily in his gut at the expression on Harry, though. This was a man that had never learned or never cared to mask his emotions before, and it was refreshing to witness someone so unashamed or concerned over how he was perceived.

Albus had been spending far too much time around politicians lately.

“I said that for someone rumoured to be Gellert Grindelwald’s son, you were remarkably easy to find.”

Harry’s eyes - a brilliant, lovely green - suddenly narrowed and sharpened. He still did not resemble Gellert, but the abrupt shrewdness of his gaze was as dangerous as it was compelling. Albus hid his smile behind the rim of his cup.

“Grindelwald.” It wasn’t even a question, just a flat repetition.

“Oh yes,” Albus said, more jovial than the situation perhaps warranted. “The wizarding world is positively abuzz with news of your existence. It’s quite a scandal.”

“But I’m not Grindelwald’s kid,” Harry replied, with such aggressive honesty that it made a well of fondness appear in Albus’ chest. Truly, it seemed he had stumbled across a wonderful gem of a human being. Even just this brief conversation told him all he needed to know about young Harry’s character.

He took another sip, waiting deliberately to see where this would go.

Harry inhaled, his lips already opening to say more - when he just stopped and huffed. His eyes pierced Albus, and some weary amusement snuck on the other’s face. “And you know that,” Harry said, rolling his eyes and sighing. “You just wanted to see how I’d react.”

Marvellous! Not only a sincere man, but one with a clever mind. There was a temper there, Albus had been able to tell that after Harry’s initial response to his arrival - the bright burst of anger in his eyes when he first saw Albus, the way the green darkened, his jaw clenched and his fingers twitched - but it was tempered by such an overwhelming blanket of kindness and good humour.

He should get out of the office more often.

#i swear everything you write is gold #i want to read a full fic #ive be like a craze minner looking for gold in the gold rush

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