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lisinfleur · 6 years

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Ravished - Chapter Eight: Eagles

Author’s notes: This chapter was a challenge for myself since I thought I would never be able to describe this ritual. Special thanks to @honestsycrets who helped me to finish this properly! I hope you guys can take the emotions at this moment and the references and inspirations for this #ragnarfeelings

Warnings: Killing, blood spilling, old sacrifice rituals, human sacrifice, torture.

Words: 2.218

How long since Hvitserk had felt that way for the last time? Oh... He could remember.

York and the Christians. Men falling to each of his steps. Amazing battle!

He giggled and yelled as loud as he could.

"The Christians from England are bravest!"

His hoarse voice reaching the men arranged in a line in front of him. None of them daring to take a step forward into the arena of dead bodies that were disposed around the young king who was laughing at his enemies cowardice.

"C'mon!!! Who among you want to feast in Valhalla tonight, uh?! Come and face me!!" he defied, hitting his chest covered in blood with the guard of his sword firmly held in his hand.

Ivar's men standing behind him in an entire line of wild berserkers thirsty for blood, scaring his enemies even more. Hvitserk could even say his eyes found one or two of those men crying.

He raised his sword towards them; his blade reflecting the sun in the middle of the blood that was still dripping in thick drops from the metal.

"If you do not have the courage to die for a cause, then don't fight for it! If you do not have the courage to bleed for your commander, then do not follow him! If you do not have the courage to stand for your goals, then do not crave for them! Now leave your swords and shields on the ground and surrender, or stick to them and FIGHT ME!"

There wasn't a single man holding a sword or a shield after his words. The metallic and wooden sounds of the swords and shields going to the ground were almost instant and Hvitserk laughed, disgusted.

"I should slaughter you all for you shame our gods with your existence"

"Shall we?" one of Ivar's men asked but Hvitserk only shook his head no.

"Let them live with their shame and may Hel kiss them all, old, in their beds. Now leave!" he ordered the foes that started running away from the battlefield. "UBBE!!" Hvitserk yelled in a potent voice, trying to reach his brother on the other side of the field "DID YOU BROUGHT ME HERE TO FIGHT DOGS? TELL ME THE MEN ARE ON YOUR SIDE!" he joked.

"THE HELL THEY ARE!" Ubbe screamed back.

Unlike his brother, he was sweating to fight some good opponents who were putting on a fight for him to be engraved in his memory.

"FROM TWO, CHOSE ONE: I'M OLD OR THESE MEN ARE FUCKING GOOD!"

"Good." Hvitserk laughed looking to the man beside him "Cause I was about to prepare myself to go back to my sweet Asta's bed. Let's go! Just like he does with the women, Ubbe chose the better side for him! Let us teach him to share!"

The younger bastard was looking like a happy child indeed. Jumping between the dead bodies to reach his brother and diving into battle like a wild beast.

So as the older one, screaming and opening his arms towards men who were going full charge on him as if it wasn't a total madness to open your chest in teasing like that. Who had seen him entering so placid into his Hall some few months later or smiling to his daughter so passionate would never imagine the legends were right and he was that savage on the battlefield.

Bolduir was running out of options. With the fear of finding Ivar on each damn corner after the ambush that the brothers had prepared by placing men inside the woods outside the borders of the North to flank and surprise his men and with the boats on his coast not allowing them to flee through the sea or have a real notion of how big that damn army was, the Earls were weakening. Two of them had already fallen through Ubbe's sword. The third one was fighting Hvitserk now and would perish soon: Bolduir wasn't stupid. Fight those men sword to sword would be retarded!

The other Earls that, like him, were too old or to cowards to raise up a sword against the kings were trying to think about a way out when Bolduir moved his hand ordering the men to bring him a horse.

"Where are you going!? We can't be without our king at this moment!" Earl Ingvar rose up his voice and so the other two Earls did the same "A king must sacrifice himself for his people, Boldu-" the man cut his words when Bolduir's sword raised up against his throat silenced all the voices around him.

"A king must survive to avenge his people and that's exactly what I'll do. Look around, Ingvar. The entire army of those bastards is here! The crippled fag must be on those boats, giving orders like the king he thinks he is while the two other savage beasts are ravaging our army down on the battlefield! Think a little, you idiot! If the three of them are here, then Kattegat fell under Harald's forces! Or do you think my daughter is queen capable enough to rule something more than her pots? Harald offered us support and I'll go to Kattegat to find him! We served as bait on his plan to conquer that city! Now he must help us retrieve what's ours!" the fat man said, adjusting himself over the horse. "You served your king well. Your names shall be remembered," he said, arrogant, kicking his heels on the horse's belly and forcing an intense pace while Ingvar and the others were looking astonished his departure.

But Ubbe's eyes were already following him.

He was fighting to reach his position and so he saw when Bolduir started his fleeing. He wouldn't let his target go away so easily.

"HVITSERK! BOW!" he yelled, and Hvitserk yelled again, transmitting his ask to the men around him.

"BOW!"

In a few seconds, Hvitserk received a bow from the men and threw it to Ubbe who pulled an arrow from a dead body on the ground and aimed at Bolduir's horse.

The animal was tracing a parabolic curve near where Ubbe was standing, which made it easy for Ubbe to aim his leg, right on his knee.

The arrow caused the animal to fall over Bolduir's leg, breaking it and preventing the so-called king to keep fleeing.

The old man was hissing in pain when Ubbe came near with Hvitserk and some of the men. The other Earls were being put in chains and the remaining men under their orders, killed.

The war in the North was over and Bolduir defeated, but there was still anger into Ubbe's eyes when he leaned over the horse's body, letting his own weight cause some more pain to the smashed leg Bolduir had under the immobile animal. On the fall, the horse had broken its neck and it would be a hell of a work to take it from above Bolduir's body. The old man squealed when Ubbe supported one of his arms on the horse, leaning his chin over his arm to look at the man's suffering.

"Wanna know what, brother?" he said, talking to Hvitserk, but not taking his blue eyes from Bolduir's orbs filled with fear "When I found (Y/N) behind that door, I did it hearing the sounds of Erik's fists against her body..." his expression turned intense and angry "I didn't hear a single scream from her mouth".

Bolduir sobbed, trying to hold his own voice when the older king used the support on the saddle of the fallen horse as a step to go upon the dead animal's body and scream to his man.

"Prepare the ritual!" he yelled, going down from the horse hearing the screams of the men around them, leaning towards the old boar on the ground.

Hvitserk jumped the dead horse, looking at him as well; an eager smile on his face.

"Tonight I'll give you one last chance for Valhalla, old man. Let's see if this King in the North is strong as the daughter his seed produced... You gonna fly with the eagles, Bolduir." he patted the old man's shoulder and got up being followed by a giggling Hvitserk who ordered the men to remove the horse and prepare Bolduir to the rites.

To the other Earls was offered the option to sacrifice themselves to the gods in goodwill or to drink poison and open hand from Valhalla for their betrayal. With the three of them choosing to be sacrificed, their blood was used on the altar, to prepare the principal ritual.

Bolduir watched, being held by Ubbe's men when Hvitserk pierced Ingvar's chest with a sword, leaning the struggling body towards the wooden bowl, collecting his blood before leaning the dead corpse on the ground to the men to take and hang with the other two corpses.

There were torches enlightening the path to the altar and around it. The light of the fire making the floor look as if it was made of gold.

The runes were painted with the blood and both, Hvitserk and Ubbe had their foreheads marked with the blood. The two shieldmaidens that were helping with the ritual started walking between the men, marking their foreheads with the bowls of blood in their hands, but all the eyes were focused on the center of the altar where Ubbe was waiting for the man two of the warriors were dragging all the way to the altar.

Bolduir was placed o the position and Hvitserk settled the blade on a bowl with embers to warm. Slowly, Ubbe fixed Bolduir's position, straightening his arms and raising his face to look into his eyes.

"You looked forward and your chin was high when you decided to betray me. I remember your head was raised when you lied to me. So you shall keep it raised to face the consequences, father" he almost mocked the title Bolduir had indeed.

The old man could never imagine ending this way, on his knees, shirtless, looking forward to finding eyes eager for seeing his blood being spilled and beautiful women dancing to celebrate his death.

He closed his eyes when Ubbe's hand touched his back.

His hand was warm.

The boy behind him wasn't nervous or shaking. Instead of it, he was firm and his hand was precise when touching the incandescent blade on his skin, slowly sliding it down to open the first cut and start separating the skin from the muscles.

The old boar grunted. Bolduir was saving his screams for he knew it wasn't even the half of the worst pain he would feel there. He mentally cursed Ubbe for the burning sensation in his back: the young king wasn't separating the skin with his hands only, but burning the muscle through the entire process to prevent Bolduir's bleeding to take his life too early.

He wanted Bolduir to feel all the pain he could feel before passing away. And to inspire himself to each centimeter of skin opened, he remembered the bruises on (Y/N)'s body, the wounds he saw on her skin, the marks on her back, the soreness that almost didn't let her walk on the first days of their travel and prevented her to mount a horse properly almost for the entire way from the North to Kattegat, obligating her to travel with both legs aside or almost on his lap for some more comfort to her torn body.

Ubbe remembered Bolduir's lies to make him angry enough to hit the bones and break them out, slowly, one by one, as the dreams of his daughter Bolduir broke with Erik's help.

He barely could hear the screams of pain from the old pig in front of him; or Hvitserk laughing while looking into the dying man's eyes.

"He won't make it, Ubbe," Hvitserk said, but Ubbe just kept going, at the same pace, remembering all the time Bolduir let Erik torture his beloved queen in his absence, denying help to his own daughter, allowing her to be raped and spanked multiple times under his own roof.

He broke the last bones with the broken memory of (Y/N) on her mother's tree Bolduir allowed Erik to break and set on fire. Ubbe could remember the nostalgia and the feelings on the smile she had on her face when touching and talking about that tree Bolduir destroyed.

As his older brother Björn once did for avenging their father, he sank his hands on Bolduir's body, hearing one last grunt of pain from the old slaughtered boar. And slowly, he raised his lungs, leaning the two pieces of red meat over the shoulders of the dead body.

Hvitserk was smiling at Ubbe. (Y/N) and all the torture she suffered was avenged. Earl Ármóðr and the terrible death he earned for his loyalty was avenged. The doors of the Valhalla were opened for him and Ubbe looked up to the sky, mutely asking his father to receive the loyal man on his table as he imagined on that letter.

He came down from the altar and took a good look at Bolduir's dead face.

His eyes were facing the emptiness, his mouth dripping red drops.

"It's done." Ubbe said and Hvitserk looked at him "Let's go home".

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#ragnarssons #imagine #imagine vikings #vikings history #vikings #sister wives #ubbe #ubbabe #ubbe ragnarsson #ubbe lothbrok #ubbe imagine #ubbe x reader #the quiet beast #ravished

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the-firebird69 · 3 years

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he is bja and is loaded...money wise..and has tons...tons and tons of beatles money...yelled iittoday...and he said this shutup brad you dumb fuck.they know ihavenothing..hyou faggot. and here he is saying it isfor his caa benefit andorhis brother...andmostly for caa as he made sure. and does soall the time. is a sickpig. Thor Freya andw esee he has tried so many times when he had real power and failed and now s motivated but sucks...and is easily stopped and we hit him andhis there hard tons do. firedhim and all. he is weak most went to the Southern Cross...and he iis weak...spoke poorly mispronounced was easiliy stirred...and he sithere they call him Hux and mr Kite...he says no and thenyes yes i am and then hes nothing...and wants his torso adn such...and we say he is theone not you you louse and no you have no soul we ht him he s so vulgar and low brow..tons have your plan you maggot fag...low lfe plane... Thor Freya we ue ths writing stuff he does tons of errors and such he forces and use it all on him now all. we need any and all volunteers we hit him now. Hera Zeus a nd he equates hmself to the gator or croc really as it is his analogy and calls him a hog nono boarand says hes boaring and imnot here to entertain idiot uncle im here to dust you and i do...hit you...and you would be amazed...if you knew you amazng fagwhore....ask biillium what they do to you if your caught sht. ask...we do the same. out cha go and a new one..need intel macs too. same practically. Hera Zues

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_uePCJF7p5U

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strangerhuas-blog · 6 years

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baby take my hand, tighten this romance.

indiana, Aug. 1985

"well, you said it'd take only thirty minutes, and i'm still sitting on this crappy seat! my ass is slowly losing its roundness!" billy sighs, stretching his back. "you act all grown up but, actually, you're such a gutless baby boy, aren't you? 'my ass is losing its roundness'...oh my god, that's SUCH a funny statement man, I can't" dustin smirks, showing his teeth. "uhh shut your mouth kid, or i'll make those teeth you're missing grow back personally;" "GUYS! guys. I can't focus on the road with you two arguing over... how much of a wimp billy is..."

steve starts laughing, letting his sunglasses slip off his sweaty nose. Billy stares at him fake angrily, while his heart melts by seeing his boy being happy. "do you all have a problem with me?" billy says, using his Im-Done-With-You look. "we don't, we don't! actually, you're the manliest man i've ever had the pleasure to meet" steve smiles at him, while dustin burst into laughter in the backseat. billy, unexpectedly, smiles back and squeezes his thigh. they just stare at each other for a while, while 'forever young' by Alphaville plays softly from steve's car radio. Dustin coughs, breaking the stare game. "Steve, are we there yet? but, most importantly, where the heck are we going? i'm unbelievably tired" billy nods his head yes, agreeing with the kid. "as I said before, surprise kids! take a nap or just listen to this (actually pretty good) radio station" billy growls "screw you, harrington" and closes his eyes, falling asleep a bunch of minutes later with his arms crossed on his chest. the last traces of the shimmering kiss his pouty, reddish lips and turn his dark blonde hair into pure gold. steve looks at his sleepy face and almost cries. he still can't believe that an attentive and loyal and pure human being like billy had to deal with such a shitty life. in that exact moment, steve realizes what his purpose in billy's life his: showing him what being happy means.

"WE FINALLY ARRIVED! I COULDN'T STAND BEING IN THAT CAR WITH THAT BOAR AND HIS SNORING ANY LONGER!" Dustin gets off steve's car, kissing the ground and thanking jesus. "you're getting a little too comfortable, kiddo. You'll be punched in the face really soon, mind my words" billy walks out, scratching his eye a little. "will you two EVER stop?" steve slams the car door, hands on his hips. "that fifth grade kid is putting me on blast, man! what am I supposed to do?" billy shouts. "I'M TWELVE, YOU TWAT" "I thought kindergarten students weren't able to talk yet?" steve shakes his head, obviously laughing.

The neon sign (wich was glowing) was a pair of green rollerblades going up and down on the top of this big building. the curly haired kid screamed like an 8-years-old schoolgirl, almost falling on his face because of his running.

"did we really had to take him?" billy rolls his eyes to steve.

"his mum was busy and mike is on vacation, if I had left him home alone i'd have felt guilty for the rest of my life, billy."

as they get closer to the building, something inside billy's chest intensifies.

then, the long haired boy remembers.

"you can do it, little boy! the whole world is at your feet, my baby!" a young, red-haired lady with a gorgeous smile was leading her arms to a five-year-old kid with blonde, curly hair.

"it's so simple! all of your cousins did it, so it'll be a piece of cake for you! just breathe in and go slow." the kid bites his bottom lip and starts skating, step by step. it only lasts ten seconds, but the woman almost cries of joy. "you did it, lil' man! you SWOOPED the scene!" they both start laughing, while hugging each other.

"karoline? is william with you? are you both in the yard?" neil hargrove was shouting at his wife from the dining room. Karoline's smile got off. "okay, you won. now let's take these off before dad finds out what you and me were doing, ok?"

"KAROLINE? WHY IS MY SON DRESSED UP LIKE SOME WEIRD FAGGOT !? TAKE THAT OFF! JESUS CHRIST!"

"neil, we were just playing." the lady stood up, as cold as ice.

" I don't care about what you were doing with those things, I don't want my firstborn to grow up thinking all of this.... pink, and ROLLERBLADES?, and this....oh man, this will surely turn him gay! you see what you're doing here? you're ruining him!" neil starts screaming. Billy can clearly hear the disappointment in his words, even though he doesn't get the meaning of what he's saying yet.

"jesus, neil, it's just a game," suddenly, the sound of a slap. silence. Neil's left hand starts shaking. Karoline grabs her flushed cheek. a silent tear flows down her nose. the man looks directly at the lady's blue eyes. "I did it because I love you, Karoline. I love you and I care about william's future" neil tried to reach her shoulder. "don't fucking touch me, neil." karoline said, while shaking from her head to toes. Billy sat in the corner of their yard, counting a ladybug's dots. he didn't know what love was, but he was pretty sure his dad didn't do that because of love.

later that night, he saw his mom crying under her bedsheets.

"mom? is you ok?"

"yes billy, mom's fine. it's bedtime now, go to sleep." she faked a smile and billy knew damn well it was fake because he could recognize his mom's true smile, with dimples and rosy cheeks.

was it his fault?

was he the cause of his dad's anger and his mom's sadness?

"steve."

the brown eyed boy turns back at him.

"what?"

"I don't want to get in."

"okay, now you're the biggest coward i've ever met. there's only a bunch of middle schoolers tonight, two old ladies, maybe. no one could hurt you even if they wanted to, billy."

" you don't fucking get it, don't you? I don't want to fucking get in and fucking wear rollerblades like some fag-"

"billy, you're shaking."

steve never saw him looking this fragile, maybe once a while ago.

billy needed him to get calmed but steve didn't know what to do at all.

so he just grabbed his right hand.

it fitted perfectly.

steve's calm, gentle grip somehow reminded billy of his mom's, they were almost identical.

"I am not your dad, billy. you can trust me as much as you can trust yourself." the grip intensified.

"i'm not here to deceive you and neither hurt you, I never was and i'll never be" and as much as it sounded fake, it truly was true.

"look at me Steve! I didn't know I was good at skating!" dustin shouted, flexing his arm while doing a spin.

"and I didn't know I had a champion as a son! you're amazing, you surely didn't get that from me!"

"i'm not even your son, stop that" dustin answered. (but he was smiling, so he wasn't that offended, after all.)

"this is so. fucking. sketchy." billy said, while holding steve's arm.

"I told you steve, I told you" dustin whispered.

"what did you tell me?" steve replied, playing his game.

"THAT BILLY WAS A FUCKING SCAREDY CAT!"

they both fell down, laughing like crazy.

"okay, jackasses. I can do it on my own, thank you very much." billy said, trying to skate on his own.

turned out he was pretty good at skating, but not at doing double flips.

"did your butt lose its roundness already?" dustin said (while cackling) after billy's umpteenth fall.

"I don't know really.... but steve could check for me" billy winked at steve, who got as red as a lobster, and Dustin, for the first time, high fived his "buddie" billy.

HELLO! soo, what do yall think? I apologize in advance for my quite bad english grammar, I'm aware of my skills and i'm really sorry if something just isn't fluid/is wrong. I tried to represent how billy/harringrove looks like in my pov in this scenario, that I also like quite a lot! (I love 80's skating dates ARGH) i'm sorry if the emotional/physical ab*se scene was offensive, it wasn't my main target! I just imagined that something like that was a daily habit in the hargroves'cali house (we all know how much of a rathole neil hargrove is) :(. I might write some of these bad bois again very soon if I get a positive response by the harringrove fandom, who knows👀 i'm also here for small prompts if you have any ideas! let me know what yalls thoughts were, luv ya <3

#harringrove #text #billy hargrove #steve harrington #stranger things #stilly #my text

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liw-the-melancholic-apple · 4 years

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How it may have gone - Humble Beginnings

A fic taking place in the marauders era. While the political climate seems to head to a conflict, James, Sirius, Remus and Peter are still just teenagers. Dealing with typical teenage problems.

But this year their little group grows. Who would have known that more prefects would be a good thing?

Masterlist

Five: December III

I had gotten off the nightshift on a Monday and only existed physically that Tuesday morning. My state was even worse than that fateful Saturday in November. Was I aware that people were around me and that they talked? Yes. But that was it.

“Jette!” I jumped.

“Yeah?”

“Please, drink the coffee. I’m afraid that you’re gonna die otherwise.” Was that Chloe’s voice? Chloe’s hand held a giant mug in front of my face. I was still contemplating whether I had the energy to reach for it, when another hand took it from Chloe. As I was not capable of moving my head to my left I had no idea who had stolen my coffee. There was a scent of leather and citrus, though.

“You know you have to go to classes, right?” Oh, leather and citrus, of course that meant Black.

“Huh.”

“I still got that pepper-up potion, if you want it.” He chuted a little closer and spoke into my ear: “I think you’d want to be up and awake, Goods, I got something to tell you.” His voice was a lot lower than normal. It suited him.

“Wha?”

He sighed. Then my coffee reappeared in front of my face.

“Just drink that.” I did. The listening and talking had made me even more tired and I needed caffeine. The first gulp I took was huge and wonderful. It warmed me up from the inside out, made me sit up straight, let the white noise become actual conversations around me and had me open my eyes fully. The second big gulp took away all residue of exhaustion. I felt amazing. I felt great. I felt like I could take on the world. It was wonderful.

“Black!”, I yelled in my most aggressive voice.

“Yes, dear?”, he chirped back, sliding across the bench away as far as possible.

“Did you just drug me?” A lot of heads turned our way and Potter, who sat on the other side of the table casually pointed at my coffee mug and then at my messy hair and prefect badge. That was enough for most of the heads to turn back to their breakfast.

Black kept his distance but dared to smirk at me.

“Technically, I didn’t. Pepper-up potion is not considered a healing treatment and it’s not on the list of explicitly forbidden potions to be taken on the premises or in classes. So, I wanna say: No, I did not drug you.” I whacked him over the head with Nica’s Daily Prophet.

“Are there any side effects to this thing?” Black shook his head. I looked at Remus. He shook his head.

“Ugh, thank you, then”, I said through my teeth. “I feel a lot better.”

“I’m here all week”, Black answered, closing the distance between us. “Can you please, eat something, so you don’t faint, have another cup of coffee and then run outside with me?” He wiggled around on the wooden bench and played with one of the spoons.

“What’s with you?” I reached for the scones and the apple syrup.

“I have something very interesting to tell you and I’d rather do it without your best friend present…”

“Ouh!”, I shouted way too loud and Black nodded. “Ouh!”, I made again and stuffed my face with two scones as quickly as possible. I grabbed a banana off the table to throw in my bag and got up. Black had already excused himself and left.

“Folks, that potion got me all energised, I can’t sit still. Meet me outside in a bit?”

“Sure!”

I accented my rushing to and out the door and turned to the foyer. Black leaned against one of the winged boars on the first step outside the doors.

“Finally!”

“Tell. Me. Everything!”

He took my arm and dragged me to our passage And out of the snow, already talking.

“Okay, so it’s nothing super huge but it’s news.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah, spill it!”

“So, yesterday evening I can’t sleep and I go down to the common room thinking I just read a bit and then fall asleep there, right? But I haven’t even sat down and I hear a door and I hear steps and down walks Remus, right?”

“Right.”

“He sits down next to me and looks at me and he goes ‘Can’t sleep either?’ and I go ‘ Nah, can’t sleep.’ Right? And he asks me whether I’m thinking about Slughorn’s party. And I wasn’t but he didn’t want me to answer anyway, so I didn’t say anything, right? And just like I thought he just starts talking!” Black had to stop and breathe for a moment as he said all of that in pretty much one go.

“Okay, let me not be a twelve-year-old-girl about this. I’m Sirius Black. I don’t get girly.”

“By all means, take your time”, I laughed.

“Point is: Remus was thinking about Slughorn’s party and that’s why he couldn’t sleep. I asked him why that thing would make him lose sleep. He’s been to that party ever since second year. And he says that he was thinking about the fact that both, James and Peter had dates for the party – thanks again for that – and he didn’t.”

“You don’t either, do you?”

“No, but that’s no news. I don’t do dates.”

“Right, sorry. Continue. Remus was thinking he needed a date.”

“No, Remus said he was thinking that he needed a date. Look, he came up with a whole story about being the odd one out and the one nobody wanted.”

“Oh, Remus. He isn’t the odd one out.”

“That’s what I thought, too. At first. But then he got into how Peter was going with you and James was going with Nica and how I would probably end up hanging out with you girls and if I thought he could ask one of the other two, or if that would be weird.”

“Ahhhh”

“Ahh is right. Of course, I said that it wouldn’t be weird and that Blair would probably be delighted to be asked out.”

“She would”, I got sidetracked for a second and gave him an intense look to make him ask her but he ignored that.

“That was not what he wanted to hear. Obviously he wanted to ask Milla, right? So, he asked me if Blair came to my mind because Milla had some hot date nobody had told him about. And he wanted to sound casual and only mildly offended but there was panic in his voice. Panic, Goods!” His eyes widened and he gave me the brightest smile I’d ever seen him wear.

“You know what that means, right? He’s into her!”

“Sounds like it, yeah”, I grinned. “Now if we only could get him to ask Milla out…”

“Would she say yes?”

“I reckon she would.”

“This is so great!”

“I didn’t know that you were such a softie and romantic, Black.”

“Full of surprises, Goods, full of surprises”, he smirked, back to his mysterious heartbreaking ways.

“If you were not going to the Slug Party with Peter, I’d think you two were planning a date!”, Potter had crept up on us, his friends and mine in tow.

“Well, isn’t it funny you should say that?”, Black answered lighting Potter’s fag.

While those two got into discussing my secret talks with Black my attention went to Remus and Milla who found themselves standing next to one another once again, smiling and joking and flirting in that awkward manner that only they could manage. Milla saw me look over and stuck out her tongue. I was going to say something but a waving hand and blond curls distracted me. Never before had Crick joined our after-meal-dates. But there’s a first time for everything.

We greeted him and then all just stared at him, waiting to hear why he had followed us.

“Tea, can I talk to you, for a second?”, he asked after a weird quiet moment. I let him lead me quite a bit away from the rest of my friends.

“Toby and I were just talking about the Christmas Party”, he started when we stood at the other end of the passage. “ And I wanted to know whether you girls are gonna show up in a pack again or whether you need some gentleman to accompany you.”

“Oh, how sweet. Thanks, Crick! But I’m well taken care of.”

“Girls’ night?”

“No. I’m going with Pettigrew, actually.”

“Sorry?!”

“He didn’t get invited. Potter is taking Nica, so she can come, Chloe goes with Mag and I’m taking Pettigrew. That way we’ll all be there.”

“You’re too good of a person. Don’t let him take advantage of that!”

“I honestly don’t think he will.” We stood in silence a bit.

“You’re still going stag, then?”

“Looks like it.”

“Crick, would you maybe take Blair?”

“What?”

“She seems insecure, lately. Maybe it’s beause Chloe, Nica and I have a date to the party – however platonic – and Milla is this close to dating Remus. I haven’t talked to her yet but I think getting to go out with one of the most handsome guys in school would give her a boost.” I bit my lip while waiting for his answer. He didn’t give me one. Instead he walked back to the group and left me standing alone. When I ran after him I heard him explain that he had talked to me about Felix. Liar. He participated in the conversation for a bit and then turned to Blair.

“Blair, you’re going to Slug’s Party, right?”

“Yes, I am.”

“Do you insist on going alone or would you do me the honours of letting me take you?”

“Are you serious?”, she asked back.

“No, that’s him”, Pettigrew cut in and earned some smiles.

“Of course I am. What d’you think?”

“Sounds like fun.” Blair said a little faster than usual and blushed the tiniest bit. I could already tell that she would be happy and bouncy all day long. Crick was a good lad.

“Thank you. Thank you very much”, I whispered when he walked back to the castle for first period.

In the foyer I had Black assure me again that there would be no side-effects to the potion he had slipped me, then we parted ways.

The dungeons were as gloomy as ever, when we arrived for potions. Slughorn instructed us to turn to page 217 of our books and brew him a batch of Instaurabo-Juice. According to the textbook if brewed correctly the potion would be able to heal small and superficial injuries to the skin.

I partnered with Chloe and prepared the cauldron and the fire while she collected the ingredients. Potions was not my thing. I was a lot better at Charms and Defence against the Dark Arts. For some reason the science behind the brewing of potions was too much for me. It was all too precise. Chloe didn’t mind any of this and usually took care of the actual brewing while I prepared the roots and beasts to throw into the cauldron.

Once I had my violet flame going I filled the cauldron to a third with ice cold water and put it on the fire. Chloe gave me a nod and I started chopping up the mint leaves. Slowly but steadily I worked my way through arnica roots, Himalayan salt, cactus fig, silkworms, narcilan (which looked like ginger), garlic cloves, giant butterflies and fire ants. I chopped, cut, pulverised, quartered and strained, while Chloe grabbed what she needed, gingerly placed it in the water, moved her wand counterclockwise, clockwise and up and down and stirred the potion every now and then.

Halfway through the class I took a look at our cauldron, which now bubbled very happily in a pretty pale blue colour. According to my book this was absolutely right. After Chloe put in the twentythree fire ants one by one our Juice turned gelatinous. The instructions said to let it simmer for twenty minutes on a yellow flame. I pulled out my wand for the second time this class, charmed the flame into a yellow, cooler version of itself and turned to Chloe who was already checking with Milla and Joe and Blair and Nica. Milla signalled that she would need two more minutes, while Blair and Nica came over immediately.

“This weekend is Hogsmeade!”, Nica chirped. “Are we gonna go dress shopping or what?”

“I intended to wait for Milla to discuss that”, Chloe answered.

“Milla says we go dress shopping.” Milla had walked up and left Joe in charge of her potion.

“I need one anyways, I don’t think I have one.”

“What did you wear last year?”, Nica wanted to know.

“Pantsuit of my mums.”

“Why not wear it again this year?” Milla shot me an annoyed look. She had purposefully avoided me since I watched her and Remus in the courtyard.

“I’ve heard one shouldn’t recycle one’s outfits”, she snapped.

“What about you then, Jette, Chloe, Blair?”

“Sure, why not?”

We decided to have an early breakfast on Saturday morning and head to the village right after. There would be a lot of girls who wanted to get a dress that weekend and we wanted to be the first in our favourite shop. We had discovered it on our second ever weekend to Hogsmeade and fallen in love with it right away. It carried clothes that weren’t in style or trendy and it had everything from jeans to haute couture. The most amazing things.

And although there weren’t normally more than three other girls in the shop besides us, we knew that when it came to formal wear most girls would go there.

Getting up on a Saturday at six in the morning was not my idea of fun. I moaned and groaned and cussed while I took a shower, brushed my teeth and got dressed, but I made it to the common room by half past six. Breakfast was served from seven o’clock onwards and we had decided to be the first in the Great Hall and the first out the door.

The half hour in the common room was supposed to be spent on planning what we wanted to get and which options we had after Warrington’s Whimsical Wardrobes didn’t provide all five of us with a perfect dress.

We all wrote lists of what we thought we needed – dress, shoes, tights, accessories – and jotted down a couple of notes on style or colour because we knew that the employees of WWW knew how to work with those. At seven o’ clock sharp we stood in front of the doors of the Great Hall and watched how they opened for the first time that day. We were the only Hufflepuffs who had decided to get up this early, and, like on the mornings after my nightshifts, most other students who were present were first and second years who hadn’t discovered the beauty of sleep yet.

We all went for a quick breakfast of coffee and tea with marmalade toast but stuffed our bags with muffins, scones and raisin rolls. It took us less than fifteen minutes to leave the House table and report to Mr Filch to leave the grounds. He rolled his eyes at our giggling but let us go right away. We crossed the grounds, passed Hagrid’s hut, the greenhouses and the black lake, then reached the giant iron gates with the winged boars that cut Hogwarts off from the rest of the world.

From there we turned right and followed the badly maintained road that took us through a small forest and to the west of Hogsmeade. The landscape around us looked like a set for a Christmas film. White untouched snow on the ground, the few buildings we could see and the treetops. The sun was shining and made everything glisten and shine and we even spotted a family of deer on one of the fields. It was idyllic.

Snacking on our scones we arrived in the village. Hogwarts lay to its West but WWW was in the South-East. After the forty minute walk we were all longing for something to drink and since we knew that we would come past the Broomsticks we popped in very quickly got some pumpkin-juice bottles to take with us. Another ten minutes later we stood in front of Warrington’s Whimsical Wardrobes.

The building was one of the original houses and looked like it came straight out of a muggle fairytale. On the inside it was all white walls and ebony beams behind shelves or cupboards and tables made from dark wood. All the furniture was overflowing with robes, trousers and jumpers while the tallest wall in the back of the shop was decorated with layers and layers of dressrobes and dresses.

Dionysus Warrington scurried towards us through the mountains of clothes. “Ladies, ladies, you are so early!” He came to a halt in front of us, his giant strawberry blond moustache bobbing up and down.

“Good Morning, Mr Warrington”, Blair said extending her hand

“How often do I have to tell you to call me Dionysus, Blair? Or Dio?” His furry eyebrows met at the root of nose and he had raised his index finger at her.

“I’m sorry, Dionysus. Old habits…”

“How can I help you ladies this beautiful morning?”

“Well, Dio, Professor Slughorn’s Christmas party is next weekend”, Nica answered.

“Oh, and you were hoping that old Dio had some lovely dresses for you gorgeous lot?”

“Exactly”, Blair laughed.

Dio called for his employees, two women of his age and a young man probably in his twenties.

“Now, Gerda why don’t you help out Miss Blair, Trudy you take on Miss Nica, Blake will find Miss Chloe a dress and you two”, he pointed at Milla and me “will be all mine. Lists!” We all handed our parchments to our respective dressfinders and were complimented on being well prepared. My personal opinion was that we had just been trained well by Dio and Gerda over the last years. But I kept that to myself.

“Non-girly pink? Care to explain that to me Milla?” Dio gestured at two arm chairs and we plummeted into them.

“You see, I’d love something pink but I would like to not look like a four-year-old.” We answered a couple of questions about our wishes and then were treated to a cup of tea while Dio looked through his giant wall of dresses. On the other side of the wall Nica and Chloe sat in their own chairs while Blake got them tea and Trudy studied the wall. Blair and Gerda were nowhere to be seen.

When Dio came back he was hidden behind a mountain of dresses.

“To the dressing rooms, ladies”, he huffed and led the way.

Milla was drowned in some pale pink floor length dresses and a bit of pale purple. I was given a lot of black.

“Dio, I know that my list says simple and dark, but these all look a bit too funeral for me”, I shyly said.

“Thought you’d say that! Try this one first.”

He handed me a dark grey dress with a thin burgundy checker pattern on it. It was a mini cocktail dress that hit me just above the knees and came with a matching bolero. I instantly loved it. It was my colours elevated to Slughorn Party level.

“Dio you’re a genius!”, I screamed and jumped at him. “This is amazing! Please tell me that I can afford it!” Dio laughed his guttural sealion laugh. “Of course you can afford it, dear. Just put it back on the hanger and I’ll check you out when Milla is done, too.”

This was one of the best shopping experiences I had ever had. The first dress I tried on was the one I fell in love with. If only everything could be this easy.

Milla still sorted through her dresses.

“What about the lilac one?”, I asked watching her. One of the dresses in her pile was a very pale lilac and made out of satin. It was a structured minidress, looked like it would be very tight and too grown-up to remind anyone of a barbiedoll. Besides, I thought to myself, it would look amazing with her light blond hair and blue eyes.

Milla put it on her try-on-pile together with a powderpink long dress and a white one with pink flowers on it. Then she shooed me away.

Nica was trying on a wrap dress in mint green with a paisley pattern that made her eyes pop like I had never seen before. I gave her a huge smile and thumbs up but she waved her hand.

“It’s not sexy enough!”

Chloe looked at two dresses in the exact same shape, one being champagne in colour, the other gold. Both of them looked like she could walk a red carpet in them. She told me that she hadn’t tried them on yet, because she couldn’t decide which one she liked better.

“Start with this one”, said Blake and handed her the gold. “I think you’ll end up wanting the champagne one, so start with the gold so you can be sure of the other one.” He ordered her into the dressing room and she rolled her eyes while waving at me.

“Would you mind coming with me for a minute?” I hadn’t even noticed that Gerda stood next to me.

“Of course. What’s up?”

“Miss Blair doesn’t want to come out of the dressing room… I think she might be crying. I’ve raised three sons”, she nodded in Blake’s direction. “and I can talk to customers about insecurities but I have no idea how to talk to fifteen year old girls. Could you try?” Her narrow eyes begged me to help her out and I followed her to the very last dressing room.

She was right. Blair was crying. I could hear her sniffle behind the purple curtain.

“Blair? Are you alright, love?” No answer, only more sniffling.

“Okay I’m coming in there.”

I pulled the curtain back a bit and stepped into the spacious little room. To my left there hung a lot of beautiful floorlength flowy dresses, reminiscent of the flower power movement. To the right I saw Blairs jacket and her jumper and jeans hanging on the hooks. Right in front of me was the big mirror and in the right hand corner on the little wooden stomp sat Blair, her head in her hands, long dirty blond hair covering her face. She was in her underwear, a red dress lying on the floor.

“Love, what’s up?” I crouched in front of her.

“Take an educated guess!”, she hissed which was very unlike her. I thought for a second. I didn’t want to upset her more.

“It looks like that dress did something to you”, I said slowly. Her head shot up and I saw the traces that her tears had drawn in her make up. I reached out to hug her but she slapped my arms away.

“Why did I even agree to come?!”, she shouted. Again this was very unlike her. Even when she was annoyed she wouldn’t raise her voice.

“What do you mean, Blair?”

“I knew I would freak out as soon as I had to try on these stupid gowns! Especially, next to all of you stickthin dreamgirls!” She kicked the red dress further away and buried her head in her hands again.

I watched her as I processed what she had just said. I wouldn’t describe any of us as stick thin. Milla and Nica were athletic. All the rigorous quidditch training Sian put them through had defined every muscle in their bodies. Just last night I had complained about the fact that Nica had a very defined six-pack although she never explicitly trained her abs.

Chloe and I weren’t as athletic but we were indeed both on the smaller side when it came to clothes sizes. The four of us would raid each other’s wardrobes regularly when we felt that we had nothing to wear.

Blair never joined in that fun. She was by no means overweight but she did weigh more than we did and probably wore clothes two sizes bigger than ours. I never thought that this bothered her. Personally, I had never thought about the differences in our appearances. I loved Blair, whether she had wider hips than me, or not. But apparently, for her the differences in how we looked were a huge deal.

“Blair”, I started. “I had no idea that… Why would you feel bad trying on dresses?”

“Are you joking? I look ridiculous next to you!”

“No, you don’t.” I grabbed the red dress from the floor and held it up. “None of us could wear this dress, d’you realise that?” She rolled her eyes at me. “I mean it, Blair. None of us have the boobs to fill this neckline out. We’ d either look like little boys or run around with our tits out all evening.” I earned the smallest of smiles.

“But you actually have a chest. I bet you’ll look like a goddamn sexbomb in a neckline like this.”

I moved over to the other dresses and found one in midnight blue. It, too, had a deep V-neck but other than the red one it also had puff sleeves and a beautiful golden belt at the waist. The skirt was a-lined and had a single golden threat woven through it.

“Or this one! Really! I love how it looks but I could never wear it.” Blair rolled her eyes at me.

“Yes you could and you’d look great.” She still sounded very defeated.

“No, I wouldn’t. And I’ll prove it to you. Go get a cup of tea and I’ll try this one on.”

“It’ll be way too big for you.” Blair was close to crying again.

“Then, I’ll ask Gerda to find it in my size.” I pushed her out of the dressing room and into a chair. Gerda instantly came running to us and asked if she could do anything for us. I told her what we needed and she bustled about at the wall of dressrobes.

It didn’t take her long to find the dress and while Blair seemed to calm down slurping her tea, I took of my jeans, jumper and scarf again. The dress was absolutely gorgeous. But when I stepped back out behind the curtain I felt very uncomfortable. Blair screamed laughing when she saw that I had to hold up the dress with both hands and it still revealed my bra.

“Now you try it!”, I demanded, hoping to use the momentum of positivity. And she did.

“Blair, I told you! You look like one of these girls who only have to bat their eyes in order to be bought diamonds!”, I yelled ecstatically and I saw her smile.

“It looks better on me than you”, she admitted.

“Finally!”

Gerda padded me on the back and mouthed a thank you, while offering me another cup of tea.

“What would you like to do, dear”, she then asked Blair.

“I’d like to buy this dress, Gerda. It makes me feel good. Let’s not ruin that by trying other gowns.”

“As you wish!”

We both changed into our own clothes again. When I was putting on my shoes, Blair pulled back the curtains. “Jette?”

“Huh?”

“Can we not tell the others about my breaking down in here?” Her eyes were enormous.

“Sure. My lips are sealed.”

She hugged me tightly and for a long time, then I got to lace up my black boots.

We all had gotten our dresses for the party at Warrington’s, thanked Dio once more and left the shop before anybody else had entered it.

Blair was fairly happy for the rest of the day that we spent shopping for shoes, necklaces and Christmas gifts for our families.

#marauders fanfiction #marauders era #harry potter #james potter #sirius black #remus lupin #peter pettigrew

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