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twoidiotwriters1 · 4 years

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Written In The Stars LXIX (Harry Potter xF!Oc)

A/N: I’m so pissed bc last chapter came out in September 1st and I just ignored it??? I’m such an idiot?? Physically I’m on quarantine, spiritually I’m wherever these losers are -Danny

Words: 4,499

Warnings: None!

Series’ Masterilst

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Chapter Four: Bagman and Crouch.

"Morning, Basil," Mr. Weasley picked up the boot and handed it to the wizard.

"Really, why can't wizards just use cars?" Mel grumbled from the ground.

Two hands reach out for her and she found Fred and Harry standing side by side. The first one had an innocent and amused expression. Harry, however, glanced at the boy beside him with slight annoyance.

"Thank you boys," She said, quickly holding onto both hands and standing up.

"Told you," Fred chuckled.

"Is apparating just as uncomfortable as this?"

"Wouldn't know," He shrugged. "Never done it."

She brushed the dirt off her clothes, a little startled at the way Harry grabbed her bag and eagerly handed it back to her, still glaring at Fred in a strange way while the twin pretended not to notice, a sly smile on his face as he walked back to where his twin was.

"Hello there, Arthur," said Basil. "Not on duty, eh? It's all right for some... We've been here all night... You'd better get out of the way, we've got a big party coming in from the Black Forest at five-fifteen. Hang on, I'll find your campsite... Weasley... Weasley..."

"I'm sorry about my dad," Said a voice she wasn't familiar with. It was Cedric. "He's one of those who doesn't think twice before talking, but he's not a bad man..."

"It's okay," Mel grinned. "I'm one of those who does not think twice before snapping at someone. Bet you've heard..."

Cedric scrunched up his nose in a way that Mel considered adorable.

"Might have, once or twice."

"I'm also nice, I promise," She reached out a hand for him to shake, which he did almost immediately.

"It's a pleasure to oficially meet, then," He nodded, wearing his best smile.

"–About a quarter of a mile's walk over there, first field you come to. Site manager's called Mr. Roberts." Mr. Weasley's friend told them out loud. "Diggory... second field... ask for Mr. Payne."

"Thanks, Basil," said Mr. Weasley, and everyone followed him.

"So this is your last year at Hogwarts?" She asked the boy, considering a bit awkward to just walk in silence.

"Yeah," He shrugged. "I'm not sure of what I'll do once I'm done, but I think I might travel a bit before working."

"Any place in particular?" Cedric pondered, taking her question very seriously.

"Some place warm."

She nodded, thinking of anything else she could add, however, Cedric talked first.

"Is it true that Dumbledore gives you extra lessons?"

"Yes," She smiled. "It's sort of a family thing, and since my dad isn't around to teach me..."

It wasn't entirely true, but Dumbledore had admitted that her abilities were a thing women in their family had, so it wasn't a lie either.

"That's cool," Cedric replied. "Is he good at teaching?"

"The best," Mel continued eagerly. "He knows ever so many things about almost everything! I'd love to be like him once I'm older."

"Well, you're a Dumbledore," The boy raised his eyebrows. "I'm sure the brains must be part of the family as well." She laughed at this, not sure of how to answer. Instead, she casually changed the subject to Quidditch.

"So are you a Bulgaria, or Ireland supporter?"

Cedric quickly perked up at this, seemengly happy to talk about something so normal that had nothing to do with families.

"Ireland, I think... but my dad's with Rumania, so I have to support a little quieter..." They laughed discretely at his words.

Next fifteen minutes past rather quickly, Cedric was nice and social enough to keep the conversation flowing, Mel felt a little guilty of how everyone at school perceived him as just as pretty face with no brains or goals. She made a mental note to never let any of her friends make any negative comments about Cedric ever again.

When the time came that they had to part, Cedric waved at her joyfully and she returned it, hoping to see him again soon. She felt someone nudged her arm and turned to look at Harry, who pointed at the group that was already moving forward.

"Sorry," She said with a small smile. "Won't stay behind again, promise."

"Boys have been awfully nice to you lately..." He grumbled, looking back at Cedric over his shoulder.

"It certainly does feel better than to be chasen down a street while they threw rocks at you, you know?"

Harry's eyes widened, cheeks flushing at her words.

"Yeah, you're... you're right," He cleared his throat.

"Morning!" said Mr. Weasley, waving at a man standing near.

"Morning," the man (a muggle, for the looks of it) answered.

"Would you be Mr. Roberts?"

"Aye, I would," said Mr. Roberts. "And who're you?"

"Weasley — two tents, booked a couple of days ago?"

"Aye," said Mr. Roberts, consulting a list tacked to the door. "You've got a space up by the wood there. Just the one night?"

"That's it," said Mr. Weasley.

"You'll be paying now, then?" said Mr. Roberts.

"Ah — right — certainly —" said Mr. Weasley. He retreated a short distance from the cottage and beckoned Harry toward him. "Help me, Harry," he muttered, pulling a roll of Muggle money from his pocket and starting to peel the notes apart. "This one's a — a — a ten? Ah yes, I see the little number on it now. . . . So this is a five?"

"A twenty," Harry threw a desperate look her way, probably nervous about the man who was listening closely to their conversation.

"Ah yes, so it is... I don't know, these little bits of paper..." Mr. Weasley grumbled.

"You foreign?" said Mr. Roberts.

"Foreign?"

"You're not the first one who's had trouble with money. I had two try and pay me with great gold coins the size of hubcaps ten minutes ago."

"Did you really?"

"Never been this crowded... Hundreds of pre-bookings. People usually just turn up..."

"Is that right?" said Mr. Weasley, insisting for the man to take the money he was holding out but failing to succeed.

"Aye– People from all over. Loads of for- eigners. And not just foreigners. Weirdos, you know? There's a bloke walking 'round in a kilt and a poncho."

"Shouldn't he?" asked Mr. Weasley nervously.

"It's like some sort of... I dunno... like some sort of rally... They all seem to know each other. Like a big party."

"Obliviate!" A second man exclaimed, pointing his wand at Mr. Roberts.

"A map of the campsite for you," Mr. Roberts said after a moment of quiet change on his features. "And your change."

"Thanks very much," said Mr. Weasley.

The wizard who had charmed the muggle accompanied them to the door.

"Been having a lot of trouble with him. Needs a Memory Charm ten times a day to keep him happy. And Ludo Bagman's not helping. Trotting around talking about Bludgers and Quaffles at the top of his voice, not a worry about anti-Muggle security. Blimey, I'll be glad when this is over. See you later, Arthur." And with that, he disapparated.

"I thought Mr. Bagman was Head of Magical Games and Sports," said Ginny. "He should know better than to talk about Bludgers near Muggles, shouldn't he?"

"He should," said Mr. Weasley. "but Ludo's always been a bit... well... lax about security. You couldn't wish for a more enthusiastic head of the sports department though. He played Quidditch for England himself, you know. And he was the best Beater the Wimbourne Wasps ever had."

Halfway up the field stood an extravagant confection of striped silk like a miniature palace, with several live peacocks tethered at the entrance. A little farther on they passed a tent that had three floors and several turrets; and a short way beyond that was a tent that had a front garden attached, complete with birdbath, sundial, and fountain.

"Always the same," said Mr. Weasley, smiling. "We can't resist showing off when we get together. Ah, here we are, look, this is us." They had reached the very edge of the wood at the top of the field, and here was an empty space, with a small sign hammered into the ground that read weezly.

"Couldn't have a better spot!" said Mr. Weasley happily. "The field is just on the other side of the wood there, we're as close as we could be." He hoisted his backpack from his shoulders. "Right," he said excitedly, "no magic allowed, strictly speaking, not when we're out in these numbers on Muggle land. We'll be putting these tents up by hand! Shouldn't be too difficult. . . . Muggles do it all the time. . . . Here, Harry, where do you reckon we should start?"

"Harry has never gone camping before," Mel told him gently. "But I used to put up a tent for when we camped outside my house, remember Harry? I can help, don't worry..."

However, Harry insisting on helping anyway. Soon Emily, Mel, Harry, and Hermione had the tents ready. The problem was that there was only two and they were too small for all the people in their group, she turned to inform her mother about this when Mr. Weasley spoke up.

"We'll be a bit cramped, but I think we'll all squeeze in. Come and have a look."

She turned to her mother fully now, a quizzical look on her face while the woman chuckled, pushing her further.

"You'll love this..." Was all she commented.

And love it she did. Inside it looked like she had entered an actual flat, it had three rooms, a kitchen and a bathroom. It was impressive, but Mel thought it took out a little of the charm, camping wasn't supposed to be this comfortable, or so she'd thought before.

"You want to come with us on an adventure?" Ron asked, suddenly appearing at the entrance.

"Where to?" She asked, leaving her backpack on a chair.

He showed her the kettle he kept on his hands.

"To get water."

Everything around them invited her to give up on the no-magic rule and explore, so many different people, of all ages, colors and sizes!

She allowed herself to imagine a great deal, the homes and cities and comunities these wizards and witches may lived on, their families and background. A much more larger world for her to see...

Cedric's idea about traveling before settling down made complete sense to her, and she remembered the talk she'd had with Harry a few years prior, about them traveling the world together, sending postcards to their friends and family from all around the globe.

A fuzzy feeling made its way through her chest at this, picturing the endless adventures she could have with her best friend as adults and free from school.

"Er — is it my eyes, or has everything gone green?" asked Ron, bringing her back to the present.

It wasn't just Ron's eyes. They had walked into a patch of tents that were all covered with a thick growth of shamrocks, so that it looked as though small, oddly shaped hillocks had sprouted out of the earth. Grinning faces could be seen under those that had their flaps open. Then, from behind them, they heard their names.

"Harry! Mel! Ron! Hermione!"

Seamus Finnigan was sitting in front of his own tent, with a woman that had to be his mother, Dean Thomas was also there.

"Like the decorations?" said Seamus. "The Ministry's not too happy."

"Ah, why shouldn't we show our colors?" said the woman. "You should see what the Bulgarians have got dangling all over their tents. You'll be supporting Ireland, of course?"

"Sure..."

"Of course!"

"Like we'd say anything else surrounded by that lot." Ron said under his breath once they left Finnigan's tent to keep going on their quest. Mel snorted, just nodding as a reply.

"I wonder what the Bulgarians have got dangling all over their tents?" said Hermione.

"Let's go and have a look," said Harry.

The tents here had not been bedecked with plant life, but each and every one of them had the same poster attached to it, a poster of a very surly face with heavy black eyebrows. The picture was, of course, moving, but all it did was blink and scowl.

"Krum," said Ron quietly.

"What?" said Hermione.

"Krum!" said Ron. "Viktor Krum, the Bulgarian Seeker!"

"He looks really grumpy," said Hermione, looking around at the many Krums blinking and scowling at them.

" 'Really grumpy '?" Ron raised his eyes to the heavens. "Who cares what he looks like? He's unbelievable. He's really young too. Only just eighteen or something. He's a genius, you wait until tonight, you'll see."

"I hardly believe that being a good seeker makes you a genius," Mel commented.

"Thanks," Harry replied grumpily.

"I didn't say you were stupid," She grinned. "Though coming to think about it, you've done some foolish things throughout the years..."

"You're one to talk!" He teased.

"I am, actually," Mel smiled. "I remember when we were ten and you tried to escape your Aunt Marge's dog..."

"Don't say it–"

"And you ended up on top of a tree until midnight because she just wouldn't call her dog," Mel giggled. "Which was very rude of her, but come on– you climbed a tree instead of running to my house!"

"I was ten!" He exclaimed over Ron's cackles. "Oh, bugger off..."

There was a line for the tap. Harry, Mel, Ron, and Hermione joined it, behind a pair of men who were arguing. One of them was wearing a nightgown. The other was a Ministry wizard a holding a pair of trousers and beyond exasperated.

"Just put them on, Archie, there's a good chap. You can't walk around like that, the Muggle at the gate's already getting suspicious —"

"I bought this in a Muggle shop," said the old wizard stubbornly. "Muggles wear them."

"Muggle women wear them, Archie, not the men, they wear these," said the Ministry wizard, and he brandished the pinstriped trousers.

"I'm not putting them on," said old Archie in indignation. "I like a healthy breeze 'round my privates, thanks."

Hermione was overcome with such a strong fit of the giggles at this point that she had to duck out of the queue and only returned when Archie had collected his water and moved away.

Walking more slowly now, because of the weight of the water, they made their way back through the campsite. Here and there, they saw more familiar faces: other Hogwarts students with their families. Oliver Wood, the old captain of Harry's House Quidditch team, who had just left Hogwarts, dragged Harry over to his parents' tent to introduce him, and told him excitedly that he had just been signed to the Puddlemere United reserve team. Next they were hailed by Ernie Macmillan, a Hufflepuff fourth year, and a little farther on they saw Cho Chang, a very pretty girl who played Seeker on the Ravenclaw team. She waved and smiled at Harry, who slopped quite a lot of water down his front as he waved back.

Now, Mel wasn't going to admit that the huff that came out of her mouth right at that moment was because of the boy's reaction, but Ron definitely made sure to tease both of them relentlessly until Harry found the perfect excuse, pointing at some tent at his left.

"Who d'you reckon they are? They don't go to Hogwarts, do they?"

" 'Spect they go to some foreign school," said Ron. "I know there are others. Never met anyone who went to one, though. Bill had a penfriend at a school in Brazil... this was years and years ago... and he wanted to go on an exchange trip but Mum and Dad couldn't afford it. His penfriend got all offended when he said he wasn't going and sent him a cursed hat. It made his ears shrivel up."

"That's awful," Mel said over Harry's laughter. "Might been silly, but I never stopped to think about other Schools... I was too excited about being admitted into one that it went right over my head..."

"Me neither," Harry admitted. "I'd love to know a bit about them, though."

"You've been gone ages," George groaned as they entered the boys' tent.

"You're welcome," Mel replied, lightly slapping his head as she walked past.

"Met a few people," said Ron. "You not got that fire started yet?"

"Dad's having fun with the matches," Fred pointed towards the entrance with a stern face.

Mr. Weasley was having no success at all in lighting the fire, but it wasn't for lack of trying. Splintered matches littered the ground around him, but he looked as though he was having the time of his life.

"Oops!" he said as he managed to light a match and promptly dropped it in surprise.

"Come here, Mr. Weasley," said Hermione kindly, taking the box from him, and showing him how to do it properly.

At last they got the fire lit, though it was at least another hour before it was hot enough to cook anything. There was plenty to watch while they waited, however. Their tent seemed to be pitched right alongside a kind of thoroughfare to the field, and Ministry members kept hurrying up and down it, greeting Mr. Weasley cordially as they passed.

"That was Cuthbert Mockridge, Head of the Goblin Liaison Office... Here comes Gilbert Wimple; he's with the Committee on Experimental Charms; he's had those horns for a while now... Hello, Arnie . . . Arnold Peasegood, he's an Obliviator — member of the Accidental Magic Reversal Squad, you know... and that's Bode and Croaker... they're Unspeakables..."

"They're what?"

"From the Department of Mysteries, top secret, no idea what they get up to..."

Mel's eyes lingered on the people Mr. Weasley had mentioned. Something about the circumstances of their job and the name gave her a thrill, imagining all the things they may see on a daily basis.

At last, the fire was ready, and they had just started cooking eggs and sausages when Bill, Charlie, and Percy came strolling out of the woods toward them.

"Just Apparated, Dad," said Percy loudly. "Ah, excellent, lunch!"

They were halfway through their plates of eggs and sausages when Mr. Weasley jumped to his feet, waving and grinning at a man who was striding toward them.

"Aha!" he said. "The man of the moment! Ludo!"

"Ahoy there! Arthur, old man, What a day, eh? What a day! Could we have asked for more perfect weather? A cloudless night coming... and hardly a hiccough in the arrangements... Not much for me to do!"

Behind him, a group of haggard-looking Ministry wizards rushed past, pointing at the distant evidence of some sort of a magical fire that was sending violet sparks twenty feet into the air.

Percy hurried forward with his hand outstretched. Apparently his disapproval of the way Ludo Bagman ran his department did not prevent him from wanting to make a good impression.

"Ah — yes, this is my son Percy. He's just started at the Ministry — and this is Fred — no, George, sorry — that's Fred — Bill, Charlie, Ron — my daughter, Ginny — this is Emily Sultens, mother of one of Ron's friends and Ron's friends, Hermione Granger, Mel Dumbledore and Harry Potter."

Mel smiled politely at the man, noticing how his eyes traveled from Harry's scar and settled on her face for a brief second, before returning to Mr. Weasley.

"Everyone, this is Ludo Bagman, you know who he is, it's thanks to him we've got such good tickets —"

"Fancy a flutter on the match, Arthur?" The man asked. "I've already got Roddy Pontner betting me Bulgaria will score first — I offered him nice odds, considering Ireland's front three are the strongest I've seen in years — and little Agatha Timms has put up half shares in her eel farm on a week-long match."

"Oh... go on then," said Mr. Weasley. "Let's see... a Galleon on Ireland to win?"

"A Galleon? Very well, very well... any other takers?"

"They're a bit young to be gambling," said Mr. Weasley. "Molly wouldn't like —"

"We'll bet thirty-seven Galleons, fifteen Sickles, three Knuts," said Fred, and he and his brother pulled out all the money they had. "that Ireland wins — but Viktor Krum gets the Snitch. Oh and we'll throw in a fake wand."

"You don't want to go showing Mr. Bagman rubbish like that —" Percy hissed, but Bagman didn't seem to think the wand was rubbish at all; on the contrary, his boyish face shone with excitement as he took it from Fred, and when the wand gave a loud squawk and turned into a rubber chicken, Bagman roared with laughter.

"Excellent! I haven't seen one that convincing in years! I'd pay five Galleons for that!"

Percy froze in an attitude of stunned disapproval.

"Boys," said Mr. Weasley under his breath, "I don't want you betting... That's all your savings... Your mother —"

"Don't be a spoilsport, Arthur!" boomed Ludo Bagman, rattling his pockets excitedly. "They're old enough to know what they want! You reckon Ireland will win but Krum'll get the Snitch? Not a chance, boys, not a chance... I'll give you excellent odds on that one... We'll add five Galleons for the funny wand, then, shall we..."

Mr. Weasley looked on helplessly as Ludo Bagman whipped out a notebook and quill and began jotting down the twins' names.

"Cheers," said George, taking the slip of parchment Bagman handed him and tucking it away carefully. Bagman turned most cheerfully back to Mr. Weasley.

"You shouldn't have," Mel told them worryingly. "What will you do if you lose?"

"We'll worry about that, Lady Dumbledore," Fred told her carelessly. "Don't fuss over it just yet."

"But if your mum finds out–"

"Mum's done enough for us already," George replied hastily.

"Couldn't do me a brew, I suppose? I'm keeping an eye out for Barty Crouch. My Bulgarian opposite number's making difficulties, and I can't understand a word he's saying. Barty'll be able to sort it out. He speaks about a hundred and fifty languages."

"Mr. Crouch?" said Percy, suddenly abandoning his look of poker-stiff disapproval and positively writhing with excitement. "He speaks over two hundred! Mermish and Gobbledegook and Troll..."

"Anyone can speak Troll," said Fred dismissively. "All you have to do is point and grunt."

Percy threw Fred an extremely nasty look and stoked the fire vigorously to bring the kettle back to the boil.

"Any news of Bertha Jorkins yet, Ludo?" Mr. Weasley asked as Bagman settled himself down on the grass beside them all.

"Not a dicky bird," said Bagman comfortably. "But she'll turn up. Poor old Bertha... memory like a leaky cauldron and no sense of direction. Lost, you take my word for it. She'll wander back into the office sometime in October, thinking it's still July."

"You don't think it might be time to send someone to look for her?" Mr. Weasley suggested tentatively as Percy handed Bagman his tea.

"Barty Crouch keeps saying that," said Bagman, his round eyes widening innocently, "but we really can't spare anyone at the moment. Oh — talk of the devil! Barty!"

A wizard had just Apparated at their fireside, and he could not have made more of a contrast with Ludo Bagman, sprawled on the grass in his old Wasp robes. Barty Crouch was a stiff, upright, elderly man, dressed in an impeccably crisp suit and tie. The parting in his short gray hair was almost unnaturally straight, and his narrow toothbrush mustache looked as though he trimmed it using a slide rule. His shoes were very highly polished.

"Pull up a bit of grass, Barty," said Ludo.

"No thank you, Ludo," Crouch replied. "I've been looking for you everywhere. The Bulgarians are insisting we add another twelve seats to the Top Box."

"Oh is that what they're after?" said Bagman. "I thought the chap was asking to borrow a pair of tweezers. Bit of a strong accent."

"Mr. Crouch!" Percy sort of gasped. "Would you like a cup of tea?"

"Oh," Mr. Crouch, looked over at Percy. "Yes — thank you, Weatherby"

Fred, George, and Mel had to drained their chuckles into their cups. She didn't want to make fun of him, but it was just his luck...

"Oh and I've been wanting a word with you too, Arthur," said Mr. Crouch. "Ali Bashir's on the warpath. He wants a word with you about your embargo on flying carpets."

"I sent him an owl about that just last week. If I've told him once I've told him a hundred times: Carpets are defined as a Muggle Artifact by the Registry of Proscribed Charmable Objects, but will he listen?"

"I doubt it. He's desperate to export here." Mr. Crouch took the tea, silently thanking Percy.

"Well, they'll never replace brooms in Britain, will they?" asked Bagman.

"Ali thinks there's a niche in the market for a family vehicle," said Mr. Crouch. "I remember my grandfather had an Axminster that could seat twelve — but that was before carpets were banned, of course."

Mel was elated with the conversation. It sounded like a day-to-day coming from the men in front of her, but everything sounded so fantastical she didn't have any problems to keep up with the conversation.

"So, been keeping busy, Barty?" said Bagman.

"Fairly. Organizing Portkeys across five continents is no mean feat, Ludo."

"I expect you'll both be glad when this is over?" said Mr. Weasley.

"Glad! Don't know when I've had more fun... Still, it's not as though we haven't got anything to look forward to, eh, Barty? Eh? Plenty left to organize, eh?"

"We agreed not to make the announcement until all the details —"

"Oh details!" said Bagman. "They've signed, haven't they? They've agreed, haven't they? I bet you anything these kids'll know soon enough anyway. I mean, it's happening at Hogwarts —"

"Ludo, we need to meet the Bulgarians, you know," Mr. Crouch replied sharply. "Thank you for the tea, Weatherby."

"See you all later!" Bagman said once he got up. "You'll be up in the Top Box with me — I'm commentating!"

"What's happening at Hogwarts, Dad?" said Fred. "What were they talking about?"

"You'll find out soon enough," said Mr.Weasley, a knowing smile.

"It's classified information, until such time as the Ministry decides to release it," said Percy, clearly dying to talk about it. "Mr. Crouch was quite right not to disclose it."

"Oh shut up, Weatherby," Fred rolled his eyes.

"Mum, do you know?" Mel asked.

"Molly mentioned it a few days back," Emily sighed. "Clearly, I'll keep it a secret. I won't be the one who ruins the surprise. However, I assure you I'm not entirely happy about it."

"Why's that?"

Emily just shook her head.

"You'll find out soon enough," She insisted, taking a sip of her tea.

Next Chapter —>

Taglist.

@tiphareth2018 @vampiregirl1797 @siriuslysirius1107 @stardusthigh @vernon-dursley @kylosleftbuttcheek @tomshollandz @bloodorangemoonlight @thesuitelifeofafangirl @reverse-hxlland @omiwashere

#twoidiots writing #hp fanfic #Harry Potter #harry potter fanfiction #harry potter xoc #hermione granger #ron weasley #fred weasley #george weasley #cedric diggory #arthur weasley #bill weasley #charlie weasley #percy weasley #WITT fic

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flying-elliska · 4 years

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S5 Review pt.1 : the Good

Arthur season is over, time to analyze it as a finished story ! This meta in 3 parts will go over the good, the bad and the mindboggling. My general impression of the season : excellent beginning, very meh middle, interesting ending. In short : flawed but I feel people calling it a total disaster really are not making any effort to see it objectively. So ; let's dig into the why and how.

What I liked about this season :

A story made with and for Deaf people : It’s pretty evident when watching the interviews that Winona and Lucas really really enjoyed making the season and that it offered them an unprecedented level of representation. The creators obviously did their research, working with the people of the IVT. Personally I feel like I learned so much and the clips showing aspects of Deaf culture were among my favorites. It felt like a nuanced, rich, in-depth perspective, with details like choosing to get a cochlear implant or not, the testimony evening, the sign language class, Noee’s sign dance, the different ways to enjoy music, how to speak to someone who is Deaf, etc...showing that not everyone within that community has the same story or opinion, that they’re just people with their unique challenges but shared needs, as well as the really awesome culture that is part of being Deaf. It felt really respectful and a thousand miles away from the usual miserabilistic clichés - it brought up some concern about how difficult it is to be rejected/invisible in today’s society, but it was balanced with emotions like curiosity, admiration, and awe. I came to SKAM for the representation but I absolutely love getting educated about groups I’m not part of and I feel this is truly where the season shines. Learning from Deaf fans was also hella interesting.

A complex discussion about disability : A central plot point, and one of my favorites, was Arthur learning to overcome his (now internalized) ableism. We see that Arthur is an overachiever and this change in his life upsets this idea of the perfect life he has in mind. He repeadedly lashes out at the other Deaf people he meets, makes fun of sign language, underlines how he is ‘not like them’ at the beginning because he is still clinging to his own self image. We can understand where this comes from when we see how condescending towards any sort of weakness, and focused on performance over empathy his father is. But as he learns to meet actual Deaf people and see the diversity and beauty of the community, he learns there is no shame in that sort of difference and learns to stand up for himself and that was amazing to see. Another important part was Laura and Melchior’s inclusion and beyond being very funny, they highlighted the idea that although disabled people have different, sometimes competing needs, they also have things in common, and that deep wish of not being discounted/othered/excluded. All the disabled characters this season were complex, real people, not there just to teach others a lesson or inspire them or be pitied or the butt of a joke, and that is so sadly rare nowadays. Even though some bits did feel a bit like a PSA, I feel like overall it was very well done.

The politics of desirability : A theme running through the season is the idea that who we are attracted to is socially constructed and can really be biased by our prejudices. Alexia expressed this idea (albeit clumsily) in the bar scene early on, and this came back when she talked about her insecurities. This was also present in Laura’s insistence that disabled people have certain needs like everybody else. And finally, it’s present in Arthur’s own struggles - his fear of not being able to sleep with his girlfriend with his hearing aids, and his own difficulties in seeing what is happening with Noee and him saying ‘she’s deaf’ to the question ‘is she beautiful’ even as he is obviously into her. Our society gives us this incredibly narrow set of criteria for who is considered attractive - thin, white, able bodied, etc - but people’s actual real patterns of attraction and finding beauty are, when you set those prejudices aside, and see the beauty of people for who they are and not how well they fit a box, so much more broad and generous and diverse and I loved how this season highlighted that.

Technical excellence : God, the cinematography this season was absolutely off the charts, it makes me wish they could redo previous seasons with this amount of style. Shots like Arthur under the shower, or that party at the Asso with the blurry dancing, the shots in the pool, or the ones from the farm episode...INCREDIBLE. The sound editing was used sooooo well to put us in Arthur’s shoes, it was a wonder and I really felt how intense the change must have been for him because of that. And the acting is impeccable. You can really feel how well these actors know their characters by now, they have total mastery of their portrayal. Robin did an awesome job with tough scenes, but just...everyone was on their best game really.

A nuanced portrayal of abuse : Arthur’s relationship with his father was thouroughly heartbreaking, and it felt very real. I am very grateful that they didn’t try to redeem him - it’s important to show that even if you are trying your best, some people are toxic abusers and the best thing you can do is take your distance. I felt it right away, in the subtle way he was dismissing and belittling his wife and son, in the ways he was asserting his control over them, and I wasn’t surprised at all when more came out. It surprised me in the beginning that so many people were arguing that the father was caring, just strict - I feel like the signs were so obvious but I guess that’s the point. Abuse is a pattern that becomes visible over time and abusers can be perfectly charming and reasonable to people who don’t know what it’s like. Growing up with that is isolating and terrifying and it does awful things to your self esteem and your capacity to be in tune with your feelings. We can see that when Arthur basically defends his father’s actions because he is still so eager to have his love and placate him. Arthur’s behavior did not come from nowhere and it was inspiring to see him grow past that and realize he did not have to perpetuate the pattern and make his own choices. Also, his relationship with his mom was very sweet, supportive (her smoking weed with him was awesome) but complex - the way he was mean to her sometimes, condescending bc of her lack of studies ; the way she blamed herself for not seeing sooner - she must have been subjected to Patrick’s more emotional abuse, and so she will probably feel like she should have reacted sooner or known and that’s like...painful ugh. This whole thing was so raw and real. And it was incredibly important to see the nurse and her Jerome - adults, with medical knowledge - see Arthur’s situation and tell him that sometimes you just have to leave.

Highs and lows of friendship : Basile !!!! I was not a fan in s3 but the great aspect of POV shift is allowing us to see some characters through a different angle - even though I think Basile went through a lot of growth too. In Lucas’s season he was meant to be the annoying gross overly straight guy as a contrast - but for Arthur he is this devoted friend that is so open and sincere in his affection that his awkwardness comes off as endearing instead. You really understand why those two are friends : Arthur is smart, sarcastic, he can help Basile with social awareness and hype him up, but he’s also so painfully guarded and finds it hard to express emotion, I think, and it makes sense he loves Basile’s spontaneity and big heart. Meeting his grandfather was also so funny and endearing, as were all the marks of more physical affection he wasn’t afraid to show Arthur. I think having a friend like that is part of what allows Arthur to finally stand up on his own - whether against his father or deciding he needs to be single to figure himself out. As for the Gang in general, I loved the moments where they were all happy together (the early graffiti clip is truly one of the shining moments of the season for me) but their later spat is also quite understandable to me. I find it very realistic that although they are trying their best to accomodate their new friend’s disability, they’re going to mess up, that’s part of the process. The most important thing, I think, when faced with someone who is different from you, is to engage with it (respectfully) - ask questions, not assume. And communicate ffs. I also really liked those moments where the Crew and Gang came together, it gave this big end of high school vibe where all the squads merge and there is this feeling of having gone through an ordeal together that makes everyone closer. There were also so many funny moments that were absolute gold (the wheelbarrow ! the dinosaur balloons ! Imane getting attacked by chickens ! Emma and her horse! ).

Arthur on his own : I liked the more introspective moments we got this season. The successive alarms while he was angsting about his hearing coming back were such a clever way to put us in his perspective - there is already a lot of stress linked to a morning alarm, isn’t there ? We all know that moment in the morning where we don’t want to get out of bed and face the world, and taking that emotion and adding Arthur’s absolute stress at realizing that this change is lasting, it was really effective. Arthur’s link to water, as a symbol of another world where sound is much more diffuse, is quite interesting too. And the moment in last episode where he puts his glasses back on, too, as a more obvious sign of a disability that is very socially accepted and that is just part of who he is, just as his hearing loss is. We also got a moment with the bench of loneliness that was an interesting parallel with s3. (I love how the Buttes-Chaumont parc has become this double symbol in Skam France of both loneliness/alienation/putting on a mask and growth/return to authenticity.) And I like that he ended up the season single and deciding to figure himself out. It’s a big aspect of his character that he has spent too much time trying to conform to expectations and that he was super walled off as a result, that he hurt others without realizing, that he found himself boring, that he didn’t seem to open up to his friends, etc...and in the end he is a lot more open but he also knows there is a part of growth that being in a relationship cannot bring him. He can’t use women the way his father did. I respect that a lot, honestly, it’s what saved the end of the season for me, that they didn’t end up putting one girl above the other and made it about Arthur being lost and needing to find his way on his own.

The tornado and the sunshine : The new characters were awesome. Her role in the plot set aside, I really liked Noée as a character concept. I think Winona was awesome, and I liked Noée’s mix of warmth and feistiness. I like that they let her be angry at the way the world treated her, and compassionate at the same time. Also her headbutting that guy in the club that didn’t want to listen to her was !!! iconic. I loved her style, too, and that dance was so beautiful. Camille was a great addition to the team too, Arthur was lucky to find someone that patient and his dry humor but sunny disposition were great too. It was cute to see him with Mika as a couple of gurus - that we did get a Deaf/hearing couple was a good addition to the season, I think - and I hope we’ll see both of those new characters next season, too.

Queen Alexia : She was definitely one of the characters I had the most emotions for this season. She’s just so cool and her perspective on life is just so mature and interesting, her acceptance of herself and others so inspiring - a lot of the early clips with her were adorable. I loved how supportive she was in such a creative, playful way - that game she made for Arthur, the boards she brought, etc. The moments she talked about her insecurities, if bittersweet because of what happened later, remains one of my faves from the season. She was so beautiful framed by rainbows (also apparently that’s her sign name ? Amazing.) And the moment where she sings was just...oof. She was really brave and strong to be able to do that, to express her emotions and hurt in such a public, dignified and creative way. It was a moment of reckoning for Arthur, putting him on the spot and recognizing how much he hurt her, but it was done in such a graceful way - the way she signed to signal her acceptance of his Deafness, the reminder that she loves him and won’t be able to forget that immediately, and a rejoinder to recognize his feelings towards Noee, etc. She wasn’t perfect (organizing that meeting without asking really pushed it a bit too far - you can’t rush someone else’s self acceptance) but she was just ...really good.

Elu as an established couple : One of my biggest reproaches to s3 is that they didn’t give us enough fluff after all the drama (time constraints, I know, etc.) But this season they really delivered. And listen I know some fans love to blather about fanservice but fuck it, I just love seeing a healthy domestic queer couple on screen !!!! It’s just so bloody healing, because they feel real and in love like nothing I have ever seen on screen before. Maybe because so often straight actors are so awkward at playing queer intimacy and they’re really not. Seeing them in their new appartment was like a pure shot of serotonin - morning croissants ! fairylights everywhere ! but I also liked that it wasn’t too fluffy one note. We can still see that Eliott struggles with MI, that Lucas has some insecurities, but yet their devotion to each other is still as strong, as in “he’s my boyfriend and I love him.” It was a hopeful note throughout the season, Lucas being persistent and devoted all through the challenges of being with someone who is mentally ill. Also, I really liked Eliott’s role this season, as a sort of...provider for the Gang ? Getting them a van, bringing them to the cool graffiti place, making this fresque for them...you can feel he’s not 100% part of the gang because he’s older, already in college, etc, but at the same time he has sort of an observer role that can give them things no one else can. I feel like Lucas confided in him about the troubles they were going through and Eliott can empathize with being treated different, the fear of losing your friends...so Eliott helped them in his unique way, through art. And him having this new secret place he can bring more people to, and so full of color and sharing his art with people and !!!! God I’m emo he’s just my fave character ever really.

The pressure of the future : Listen the last year of high school in France is horrible, there is the pressure from the BAC + half the people are passing entrance exams and doing interviews for the stuff you want to do later and it’s so stressful and I’m glad they touched on that at least a little. Emma really embodied this theme this season, of the pressure of not wanting to know what you want to do later. It’s really when you realize that they’re all so young and being asked to make such big decisions for their entire lives is really sort of fucked up, and I think her being there is a way to dedramatize not knowing, and gives Arthur the freedom to see he doesn’t want to be a doctor ; I liked the apt comparison with Imane’s passion for medecine. I wish we’d seen more of Arthur figuring out his real passion (did he make that painting or what ?) but I appreciated this storyline.

Overall, I think this season was full of excellent moments - either funny, heartwarming, heartbreaking, or edifying - and it provided some much needed quality representation for the Deaf community. In that, and having educated a lot of people, it is at least somewhat a success. However, as a whole, it did not quite come together for me, which is what I will analyze in my next post.

#skam france #skamfr s5 #skam france meta #my meta #arthur broussard

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moonb-eam · 4 years

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ok i just saw the p&p confession ask and i could not resist: so if eliott was so unsure about if lucas would read his letter, how did he feel when lucas came to arbrenne? what was his pov during that dinner when lucas tried to make him smile and all? and also, why(i know why but i need his thoughts) did he cry when lucas said he loved him too? was he not expecting the kiss bc he seemed confused about lucas saying he'll keep the jacket? anyway i love love love your writing!!!

ahh thank you love!! 💛💛

so, let’s see...

(this got a bit long so i put it under the cut)

Eliott had no idea whether Lucas read his letter or not, and it weighed on him, nearly as much as the thought that Eliott may very well never see him again weighed on him.

He hates the possibility that the letter will remain unopened, and that Lucas will forever hold this impression of Eliott in his mind that is sour and warped - an impression that was cultivated on Charles’ persuasive nature and Eliott’s own foolishness.

He tries to make peace with it, that the letter was his last chance to explain himself to Lucas, and as the days pass: spring slipping into summer, fading to fall, hardening to winter, and returning to first blossom of spring once again, Eliott tries to accept that Lucas will now exist only as a memory to him. A distant dream just out of his reach, a star that he can only ever admire from the surface of the Earth.

He doesn’t have faith in magic and fate like he used to as a child. He’s not hoping for any divine intervention that will point their twisting paths back together, but then.

There’s a warm, sunny day when Eliott returns home early from his trip to Paris, when he surprises Daphné at her piano, and in the midst of spinning them both in a circles, both of them laughing, he hears a faint gasp, notices a flash of brilliant blue in the gap of the open door.

And there, Eliott is wondering if he needs to start believing in magic and fate and all manner of things unexplainable again, because he knows those eyes.

Eliott would know those eyes anywhere.

His chase after Lucas is a bit ridiculous, his subsequent awkwardness embarrassing, but he cannot be blamed for his own lack of decorum, not when he’s standing before Lucas on the steps, watching the way the sunlight kisses his skin.

He’s here. He’s at Eliott’s home.

What are you doing here? Eliott wants to ask. Did I conjure you from thought? From dream?

Did you read it?

Lucas gives a hasty explanation - he’s travelling with friends around Loire, admiring the castles, and they came for a tour, as Madeleine claimed the house was open for tours.

Eliott takes all of this in stride. He knows that people are curious about Arbrenne, knows that Madeleine is always eager to show of the house she works so tirelessly to run, and knows that, often when he’s away, she will show these people around, taking them through the sculpture gallery, the garden, the formal dining room.

But that is people. People who Eliott may never meet, who wander the halls his family built, admiring the architecture. People. Not him. Not Lucas.

Lucas, who is shy with Eliott, in a way that feels oddly incongruous to the image of him Eliott has in his mind: brash and loud, with a tongue like a whip. This Lucas stares everywhere except at Eliott, while Eliott can stare at little except him. This Lucas has his hands clasped neatly in front of himself. He gives stilted and abrupt answers, and it worries Eliott. It makes him think he’s making Lucas uncomfortable.

Maybe he didn’t read it.

Or maybe he did read it, and now he doesn’t want to be near you.

Except he is there. Here. Right in front of Eliott, as mesmerizing as he’s ever been, and Eliott must not have a sliver of self-preservation left because he’s asking Lucas to stay, trying to invite him for tea, trying to do anything to keep him there, to stop him from disappearing on the spring wind like a secret uttered between lovers.

The fragility of Eliott’s invitation, however, is unnecessary. Because Lucas’ friends arrive, and with them, an instant feeling of camaraderie Eliott did not expect.

Basile Savary and Arthur Broussard. They have an infectious energy about them, an unselfconsciousness that Eliott is a bit envious of. They’re loud and they seem - or at least Mr. Savary does - to speak without considering their words, and Eliott is fond of them immediately.

Eliott invites them all for dinner, because the notion of their dining room being filled with laughter all night is a pleasant one, and because Eliott is sure the Daphné will be endlessly amused by all three of them together.

It’s only then, once Mr. Savary and Mr. Broussard have accepted as Lucas watches on with an indiscernible expression, that Eliott realizes he chased after Lucas without re-buttoning his shirt, and it is with as much dignity as possible that Eliott scurries away from them, clumsy fingers fumbling against the thick material.

Daphné, of course, teases him mercilessly for it.

“Look at the state of you,” she says with a laugh, tying up Eliott’s cravat for him while Eliott sits on the arm of the sofa, pouting. “Running after his with your neck all bare.” She shakes her head. “It’s a basic level of seduction, but it is still seduction, and for that, I commend you.”

“I’m not trying to seduce him,” Eliott complains, ignoring it when Daphné lets out another laugh. “I’m trying to be his friend.”

Daphné pauses, looking up to meet Eliott’s eyes. There’s a soft turn to her mouth, a caring, gentle expression, that makes her look just like their mother. “But you love him, don’t you?”

Eliott sighs, lowering his eyes to his knees. “Yes.”

“So, you want to be more than his friend.” She says it as if it’s the simplest thing in the entire world. As if it could be as simple as Eliott says, Lucas, I want to be everything to you. As if he hasn’t already tried that.

“I don’t think he wants that from me,” Eliott says quietly, and Daphné nudges him under his chin, forcing him to look up and meet her eyes.

“Then he’s a fool.”

“But-”

Daphné shakes her head. “You’re the best person I know in this world, Eliott. And if he can’t see that, then he doesn’t deserve you.” The conviction in her voice, is strong, sure, and it’s almost enough to make Eliott believe her words as if they’re his own, the way Dr. Daucet tells him to speak to himself whenever he falls into a cavern of self-doubt.

I am deserving of good things.

I am deserving of happiness.

I am deserving of love.

Sometimes, when he says these things out loud, he almost believes them too.

“You’re right,” he tells Daphné and she grins, smacking a wet kiss to his cheek and running a hand through his hair.

“Now,” she says seriously, “we have to make you look presentable.” She hums, considering. “Presentable, but in a rogue-ish sort of way.”

“Daphy,” Eliott says, just as seriously. “I don’t think I know what that means.”

They eat dinner together, all of them, including a man named Herman, who has the most wonderfully entertaining stories Eliott has ever heard. They eat together, and it’s perfect, the way they are all able to come together. It’s perfect, because Eliott sits across from Lucas the entire meal, and he gets to watch as Lucas’ shyness morph into something else: something that’s still sweet, but a bit bolder, shades of the Lucas that Eliott has seen in ballrooms: quick and clever and so funny that Eliott nearly snorts wine into his nose from laughing.

He glances up, hoping no one saw him, except there’s Lucas, smiling at him from across the table as though there’s a private joke they’re both in on.

(And well, Eliott supposes there is.)

The weight of Lucas’ gaze is utterly intoxicating.

Eliott feels himself melt under it like sugar under his tongue.

Daphné won’t stop nudging her knee against his under the table, but Eliott barely notices. He’s consumed by a thought. Not even a thought, but a word. One word that encompasses an entire ocean of meaning.

Eliott feels Lucas’ gaze on himself and the word comes, arresting and gorgeous and hopeful: maybe.

Now, as far as Eliott feelings in the field scene, I’ve touched on that a little bit here.

But the best way I can explain it is like this:

Something happens, and it’s something you’ve been dreaming of for so long that it feels like memory as it unfolds in front of you, and it takes a moment for you to realize that no, this is real. This is not me hoping, this is something happening to me right now. And it’s like, the happiness inside of you is too much to contain. Your heart is a comet. Your soul is a sunrise. Your hands are the wings of a morning dove, but at the same time, you are so wholly, utterly yourself. You are at home in confines of yourself, infinite in your limitations. You are loved. And you love. And you are loved.

That is what Eliott feels, standing in that dew-fresh field as Lucas confesses to him.

That’s why he cries.

#asks #anon #p&p au #thank you darling!!#i hope you like this 💛💛💛#i was reading it back and i had a moment where i was like:#do i even make sense anymore or do i just spout random sap about gazes and love #and i’m still not sure what the answer is asdfjsjdj

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