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#cedric fletcher
episims · 1 month
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Shay "-I appreciate it. You know... that you always answer."
Cedric "Oh... but, of course. That's what teaching is about."
Melody "I do hope any remaining questions can wait for tomorrow, Shay. I'm hoping to claim my husband for the night."
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Shay A personal sacrifice. Is that what I was to my—father? Mother? Rats, I wish I knew even that much. They just left me there... all the other children were left, too. There were never that many of us, but still. More than to make it an exception.
We got renamed, didn't we? So that we can't tell. Did they wipe our memory, too...? Uh. They probably did. Makes me sick...
A school for witches. How I've believed them... but it's not. It's an orphanage for unwanted children.
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Treason the Musical in Concert Review: The fuse is lit but the flame is yet to burn brightly
I originally wasn't going to post anything about @TreasonMusical because, well, I was not invited to review it 🤷🏼‍♂️ But I had an awful lot of thoughts about it as an exciting new piece of musical theatre and how it can be refined as it moves forward
The first live performance of the musical based around the iconic events of The Gunpowder Plot shows great promise, but is far from complete (more…)
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rabideyeartist · 2 years
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1000 Tiny Magnets Show #375: April 29, 2022
1000 Tiny Magnets Show #375: April 29, 2022
Rabideye presents NEW DANCE MUSIC 1000 Tiny Magnets Show #375: April 29, 2022 ** indicates explicit lyrics Download :: Stream Artist, Track €URO TRA$H, 1F2F, ** Aluna, Summer Of Love, Pola & Bryson, Closer to Home, Purple Disco Machine, Twisted Mind, Riton, I Don’t Want You, Vlossom, Open Your Mind, Smokin’ Beats, Dreams (Bleu Clair Remix), Sander van doorn (Feat. Chacel),…
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ladiesofhpfest · 6 months
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Introducing ✨Friday Fic Recs✨
The Ladies of HP fest/server is happy to announce weekly fic recs from now until next year's fest. Every Friday, we will highlight 5-10 female-centric fics! This week, the recs come from your mods, @celestemagnoliathewriter, @artemisia-black, and @merlins-sequined-hotpants.
Going forward, we would love to receive recs in the ask box or in the rec channel on our Discord server. Almost any fic that is female-centric is welcome (exception: fics that feature explicit underage sexual content). We look forward to sharing more recs with you!
Fic Recs for Friday the 13th of October, including part of the summary from the author:
We've Grown Up (but still haven't changed) by @thecasualauthor18. Leading ladies: Black sisters, Andromeda POV. T, 2.2k words. Summary: Andromeda Black Tonks receives a letter from Narcissa, and against her better judgement goes to meet her.
Parvati by @sleepstxtic. Leading lady: Parvati Patil. G, 634 words. Summary: “Like you and appa?” you ask, propping yourself up on the kitchen counter and crossing your legs in anticipation. Your mother’s stories are always the best.
In the Service of Others by @bellmel. Leading lady: Molly Weasley. G, 4.7k words. Molly is not one to sit idle. It isn’t in her nature. She likes being busy, and as the last of her children leave for Hogwarts, Molly never even entertains the idea of staying at home with no company but her own. She needs a job.
Ariadne by @ashesandhackles. Leading lady: Cho Chang. G, 1.1k words. Summary: Exploring Cho's feelings for Harry in wake of her grief for Cedric's death, with symbolism from myth of Ariadne, Theseus and the Minotaur. A surrealistic character study.
Kiss Each Other Clean by @ronsgirlfriday-blog. Leading lady: Hermione Granger. T, 4.3k words. Summary: The war is over and all Hermione wants is to wash it all off of her.
Standing Up by @isidar-mithrim. Leading lady: Minerva McGonagall. G, 4.9k words. Summary: Minerva is powerless in front of Carrows’ tortures, painfully aware there’s only one way to protect her students: don’t protect them. It will be her own students to prove her that hope isn’t lost yet.
stolen glances, stolen cauldrons by @lanaturnergetup. Leading lady: Madam Rosmerta. M, 3k words. Summary: As with most bad experiences in her life, Madam Rosmerta would find that her affair with Mundungus ‘Dung’ Fletcher started out with too much to drink. 
Power by @alohaemora. Leading lady: Angelina Johnson. G, 1.9k words. Summary: "Our hair is power, Angie, it's our history. It tells the world who we are."
If you've got recs for us, drop by the ask box or the rec channel on our Discord server!
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thatbiologist · 10 months
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G’eth Character Name Bank
First Names
Masculine Names
Alfred, Andrew, Arlo, Arthur, Balthazar, Barry, Ben, Benedick, Bernard, Burchard, Cedric, Charibert, Crispin, Cyrill, Daegal, Derek, Digory, Drustan, Duncan, Edmund, Edwin, Elric, Evaine, Frederick, Geffery, George, Godfreed, Gregory, Guy, Harris, Harry, Horsa, Hugh, Humphrey, Iago, Jack, Jeremy, John, Kazamir, Kenric, Lawrence, Leoric, Lorik, Luke, Lynton, Lysander, Madoc, Magnus, Maukolum, Micheal, Miles, Milhouse, Mordred, Mosseus, Ori, Orvyn, Neville, Norbert, Nycolas, Paul, Percival, Randulf, Richard, Robert, Roderick, Stephen, Tennys, Theodoric, Thomas, Tristan, Tybalt, Victor, Vincent, Vortimer, Willcock, Willian, Wymond
Feminine Names
Adelin, Alice, Amelia, Beatrix, Beryl, Bogdana, Branwyne, Brigida, Catalina, Catherine, Claudia, Crystina, Deanna, Desdemona, Elaine, Elinora, Eliza, Enide, Eva, Ferelith, Fiora, Freya, Gertrude, Gregoria, Gueanor, Gwen, Gwendolyn, Hannah, Hegelina, Helen, Helga, Heloise, Henrietta, Igraine, Imogen, Jacquelyn, Jane, Jean, Jenny, Jill, Juliana, Juliet, Katie, Leela, Lettice, Lilibet, Lilith, Lucy, Luthera, Luz, Lyra, Malyna, Margherita, Marion, Meryl, Millie, Miranda, Molle, Morgana, Morgause, Nezetta, Nina, Novella, Olwen, Oriana, Oriolda, Osanna, Pamela, Petra, Philippa, Revna, Rohez, Rosalind, Rose, Sallie, Sarra, Serphina, Sif, Simona, Sophie, Thomasine, Tiffany, Ursula, Viola, Winifred, Yrsa, Ysabella, Yvaine, Zelda, Zillah
Gender-Neutral/Unisex Names
Adrian, Alex, Aiden, Arden, Ariel, Auden, Avery, Bailey, Blaire, Blake, Brett, Breslin, Caelan, Cadain, Cameron, Charlie, Dagon, Dana, Darby, Darra, Devon, Drew, Dylan, Evan, Felize, Fenix, Fernley, Finley, Glenn, Gavyn, Haskell, Hayden, Hunter, Jace, Jaime, Jesse, Jo, Kai, Kane, Karter, Kieran, Kylin, Landon, Leslie, Mallory, Marin, Meritt, Morgan, Nell, Noel, Oakley, Otzar, Paris, Peregrine, Quant, Quyn, Reagan, Remy, Robin, Rowan, Ryan, Sam, Samar, Sasha, Sloan, Stace, Tatum, Teegan, Terrin, Urbain, Vahn, Valo, Vick, Wallace, Waverly, Whitney, Yardley, Yarden, Zasha
Surnames
Surnames, Patrilineal - First Name (Patrilineal Surname)
Ace, Allaire, Appel, Arrow, Baker, Bamford, Barnard, Beckett, Berryann, Blakewood, Blanning, Bigge, Binns, Bisby, Brewer, Brickenden, Brooker, Browne, Buller, Carey, Carpenter, Carter, Cheeseman, Clarke, Cooper, Ead, Elwood, Emory, Farmer, Fish, Fisher, Fitzroy, Fletcher, Foreman, Foster, Fuller, Galahad, Gerard, Graves, Grover, Harlow, Hawkins, Hayward, Hill, Holley, Holt, Hunter, Jester, Kerr, Kirk, Leigh, MacGuffin, Maddock, Mason, Maynard, Mercer, Miller, Nash, Paige, Payne, Pernelle, Raleigh, Ryder, Scroggs, Seller, Shepard, Shore, Slater, Smith, Tanner, Taylor, Thatcher, Thorn, Tilly, Turner, Underwood, Vaughan, Walter, Webb, Wilde, Wood, Wren, Wyatt, Wynne
Surnames, Townships in G’eth - First Name of (Location)
Abelforth, Argent Keep, Barrow Springs, Barrowmere, Bedford, Brunhelm, Bumble, Casterfalls, Dunbridge, Falmore Forest, Folk’s Bounty, Frostmaid, Fulstad, Heller’s Crossing, Hertfordshire, Humberdale, Inkwater, Little Avery, Marrowton, Mistfall, Mistmire, Morcow, Necropolis-on-Sea, Otherway, Parsendale, Piddlehinton, Port Fairwind, Redcastle, Ransom, Rutherglen, Saint Crois, Tanner’s Folly, Tavern’s Point, Wilmington
Surnames, Geographical Locations in G’eth - First Name of the (Location)
Cove of Calamity, Deep Woods of Falmore, Eastern Isles, Eastern Mountains, Foothills, Frozen Peak, Lakes, Maegor Cobblestones, Northern Mountains, Southern Isle, Tangle, West Coast, Wild Wild Woods, Woods of Angarad
Surnames, Nickname - First Name the (Something) 
Bald, Bastard, Bear, Bearded, Big, Bird, Bold, Brave, Broken, Butcher, Bruiser, Careless, Caring, Charitable, Clever, Clumsy, Cold, Confessor, Coward, Crow, Cyclops, Devious, Devoted, Dog, Dragonheart, Dreamer, Elder, Faithful, Fearless, Fey, Fool, Friend, Generous, Giant, Goldheart, Goldfang, Gouty, Gracious, Great, Hag, Handsome, Hawk, Honest, Huge, Humble, Hungry, Hunter, Innocent, Ironfist, Ironside, Keeper, Kind, Lesser, Liar, Lionheart, Little, Loyal, Magical, Mercenary, Merchant, Messenger, Old, Orphan, Pale, Polite, Poet, Poor, Prodigy, Prophet, Proud, Reliable, Romantic, Rude, Selfish, Sellsword, Scab, Scholar, Shield, Shy, Singer, Sirrah, Slayer, Slug, Small, Stoneheart, Swift, Tadde, Talented, Tart, Tenacious, Timid, Tiny, Tough, Traveller, Trusted, Truthful, Viper, Wizard, Wolf, Wyrm
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mattmurdocksthighs · 1 month
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MY OCS + THEIR LOVE INTERESTS (HP)
Astrid Fortescue x Marlene McKinnon
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Alice Diggory x George Weasley
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Alice Diggory x Adrian Pucey
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Archie Dalton x Fred Weasley
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Nico Fletcher x Neville Longbottom
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Miles Abbott x Cedric Diggory
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Maxwell Greer x Oliver Wood
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Chris Fletcher x Theo Nott
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Cassiopeia Rowe x Lily Evans
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Florence Longbottom-Fletcher x James S. Potter
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ausetkmt · 6 months
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Hon. Joseph R. Biden, Jr. President of the United States 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue, NW Washington, DC 20500
RE: Creating a federal commission by executive order by Juneteenth to study and develop reparations proposals for African Americans
Dear President Biden,
Now more than ever, we know that many of the racial disparities that weigh this country down, and divide people in the US from each other, are unnecessary and can be eradicated if we address the ongoing legacy of enslavement. By righting our wrongs, we can make sure that all families in the US get a fair chance to acquire land, to buy a home, to enjoy good health, and to live without fear about tomorrow. That is why we write to request that you create by Juneteenth an expert commission like that which would be established by a bill in Congress, H.R. 40, the Commission to Study and Develop Reparation Proposals for African-Americans Act.[1]
As 365 civil rights, human rights, and faith-based organizations and dozens of activists, leaders and celebrities that support H.R. 40 pointed out in a letter on February 4,[2] addressing pervasive anti-Black racism and providing reparations, long overdue, cannot wait another day, year, or decade. We are in a once-in-a-lifetime moment that we cannot let slip away if we are to begin the process of repair.
You have seen first-hand the dire need and ardent demand for repair. Last June, you visited Tulsa and spent time with the three remaining survivors of the race massacre that decimated Black Wall Street. Your historic trip fixed a spotlight on the three known race massacre survivors 107-year-old Viola Ford Fletcher, 107-year-old Lessie Benningfield Randle, and 101-year-old Hughes Van Ellis, on massacre descendants, and on the Black Tulsa community that continues to reel from the effects of white supremacy. Calls for federal action on reparations were loud and ubiquitous during your stay, coming from massacre descendants,[3] rights organizations, and members of the Congressional Black Caucus.[4]
This week, nearly a year after your visit, several of this letter's authors met again with the three known massacre survivors in Tulsa and massacre descendants, where in a courtroom they made their case for justice.  As they race against the clock to secure reparations from the City of Tulsa, we implore you to seize on H.R. 40’s historic momentum by creating a federal reparations commission while the window is still open.
We hope that you will take this opportunity to make good on the promise that you and Vice President Kamala Harris made to Black voters outlined in the Lift Every Voice: The Biden Plan for Black America.[5] In this campaign plan, you pledged to tackle systemic racism and the continuing impacts of slavery by“supporting a study of reparations.” White House press secretary Jen Psaki is quoted as saying you support a study of reparations and White House senior advisor Cedric Richmond said that you support H.R. 40 specifically.[6] It is important to seize this chance to show up for those who have for too long weathered discrimination, abuse, and neglect in their tireless efforts to make this country into what it can and must be.  
The US Congress made history when, on April 14, 2021, the House Judiciary Committee voted to move H.R. 40 to the House floor for full consideration, the first time in the bill’s 32-year history. The bill now has a record level of support with 215 members of Congress committed to voting “yes” when the bill comes to the House floor. This is far more than the bill has ever had and it should pass in the House if voted on. In addition, on March 12, 2022, the Democratic National Committee (DNC) passed a resolution of support for reparations and H.R. 40.[7] But considering US Senate dynamics and timing—there are just a few months left before the end of this 117th Congressional session in January 2023—we are calling on you to work with supporting organizations and House sponsors of H.R. 40 to set up the same commission by executive order by Juneteenth this year.
Juneteenth presents you with an important opportunity to commemorate the end of enslavement while also recognizing much more still needs to be done to create equity and real opportunity for African Americans in the US beyond declaring a national holiday. The Black to white racial wealth gap remains vast, with white households having a median of $188,200, 7.8 times that of Black households at $24,100,[8] a vestige of the legacy of enslavement—which can find its roots in redlining, the Homestead Act, and denying Black people access to federally backed home mortgages—and the failure to address the exploitation, segregation, and violence unleashed on Black people that followed. Moreover, the ongoing impacts of enslavement have resulted in deep psychological harms, including by way of forced separation and collective trauma, which require comprehensive remedy. The Covid-19 pandemic has only widened the inequality. It is also important that this commission be established by Juneteenth so that it can start working and issue recommendations before the next presidential elections.
H.R.40 would establish an expert commission to study the legacy of enslavement and how the failure to address harms stemming from it have resulted in huge racial disparities between white and Black people in: the ability to accumulate wealth and to access health care, education, housing and employment opportunities; environmental outcomes; and policing, among other things. The commission would also recommend proposals for how to provide repair for what the study reveals. This bill does not authorize payments or any specific remedy. It simply creates a commission to study the problem, gather relevant information, extensively involve and consult with impacted communities, and recommend solutions. Like the federal commission that investigated the forced relocation and wrongful incarceration of Japanese Americans during World War II, an H.R. 40-style commission can help pave the way for a critical and truthful reckoning and accounting for past harms and the present harms that flow from them.
As states, cities, and other institutions, including the state of California; Wilmington, Delaware; Providence, Rhode Island; Burlington, Vermont; Tullahassee, Oklahoma; Greenbelt, Maryland; Detroit, Michigan; Evanston, Illinois; Georgetown University; the Jesuits; and others pursue reparations at an accelerated pace,[9] it would be sheer irony for the federal government, which sanctioned the kidnapping and trafficking in human beings that slavery entailed, and maintained subsequent anti-Black laws and institutions, to continue to lag behind and circumvent real progress on reparations.
It is in Tulsa where you so powerfully and unequivocally stated: “the only way to build a common ground is to truly repair and to rebuild.”[10] As the 101st anniversary of the massacre approaches, and racial disparities continue to keep communities across the US divided, we could not agree more.
For the above reasons, and those stated in our February 4, 2022, letter referenced above, we hope that we can count on you to take this meaningful first step toward achieving racial justice and realizing reparations for centuries of ongoing harm. We ask that you create a federal commission to study and develop reparations proposals for African Americans similar to that of H.R. 40 by Juneteenth this year. We stand ready to work with you to ensure this happens and kindly request a meeting as soon as possible to discuss the details. Thank you for your consideration.
Sincerely,
National Coalition of Blacks for Reparations in America (N’COBRA) Color of Change  Reparation Education Project Rainbow PUSH Coalition  Faith for Black Lives Black Church PAC  Black Voters Matter Fund   Samuel Dewitt Proctor Conference  Church World Service  NETWORK Lobby for Catholic Social Justice The Union for Reform Judaism Friends Committee on National Legislation Presbyterian Church U.S.A.  National Consumers League Batrice & Associates  Reparations 4 Slavery Make it Plain Live Free USA  Until Freedom Nikkei Progressives  Nikkei for Civil Rights and Redress   Japanese American Citizens League San Jose Nikkei Resisters  National Nikkei Reparations Coalition  Terence Crutcher Foundation  Human Rights Watch  United Church of Christ, Justice and Local Church Ministries 
Cc: Vice President Kamala Harris, Ambassador Susan Rice, and Senior Advisor Cedric Richmond
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Game Over (Cedric) - Part 2
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Nuisance
Look at that! Santa brought a dead dove :)
Warnings: Gore, including hand gore and impalement, torture/violence/beating, restraints, homophobia, misogyny, all kinds of crude language, major character death, public execution (hanging), self inflicted injuries to get out of restraints and do a little murder
For extra fun, start listening to Auld Lang Syne by Dougie MacLean halfway through :) Merry Christmas!
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Cedric stared at the ceiling of the cell he had spent the last—how long had it been? Between the dim light falling through the window slit, and the exhaustion and pain making him slip in and out of consciousness, it was hard to tell how much time had passed. He thought it had been three days.
Three days of sitting chained to the wall, in the blood soaked clothes he had been arrested in. He tried his best not to let the cold and the grime get to him, but it was hard. At least the guards had been decent enough to separate the shackles around his wrists, only fastening one of them to the wall with a chain. Not that it did him much good; he couldn’t move his right arm, could barely feel it.
He definitely felt the rest of his body, though, every bruise and scrape and cut. The icy touch of the morlit inside his shoulder had been replaced by fire, pulsing in the rhythm of his heartbeat. There was little doubt the wound had become infected, and no doubt no one cared about it. 
They had brought him just enough food and water to keep him alive, leaving him barely enough energy to sit up. Or perhaps it was the memory of Yvan that sapped his strength, as despite his best efforts, he had been unable to banish his dead, broken eyes from his mind. That, and the worry who else they might have arrested, might still arrest. No one told him; of course they didn’t. 
Every waking hour he spent wondering who had betrayed him. It couldn’t have been one of his inner circle. The guards wouldn’t be poking around in the dark if they knew more. Unfortunately, that left a wide array of possible suspects—people who had crossed him, yet he had not considered enough of a threat to kill them. If only he had lived up to his reputation, he thought grimly.
The sound of approaching footsteps made Cedric raise his head, trying to fight down the sick feeling in his stomach. It was the same guard who returned each time; to taunt him, to beat him, to question him. Smith or whatever. Carrying a baton in his right hand, and an insufferable smirk on his face, he stopped in front of the cell.
“Slept well?” He dragged the metal baton across the bars of the door. “Perhaps you feel like cooperating today?”
Cedric said nothing.
On a gesture of Smith’s hand, another guard unlocked the door, letting the son of a mok stride into the cell. 
“We seized the Lucky Coin,” Smith said as he approached Cedric. “As we speak, my men are turning everything upside down. They will find everything there is to find, everyone who’s connected to you. So why don’t you make it easier for yourself and talk?”
Cedric said nothing.
“Riley Burke. Rosie Fletcher. And Merridy Whitley.” The way Smith said her name sent a chill down Cedric’s spine. “Interesting. No records to speak of, no past employment or address. And yet, as far as the Lucky Coin goes, she’s the sole beneficiary in the case of your—impending—untimely end.”
There was something besides the usual cruelty in Smith’s gaze. Something cunning. 
“Now, do tell, how does a common street rat end up working for a high class”—somehow, he managed to make it sound derogatory—“shop such as yours?”
Cedric said nothing.
“I’ll tell you what I think.” Smith started pacing back and forth, swinging the baton in the rhythm of his steps. “I think that’s just a cover. A fresh identity for a new start. That’s the kind of trouble you’d only go through for someone important.”
Cedric grit his teeth. This was… fuck. He hadn’t thought this through. Everyone else who was close to him came from richer circles already, or was well off at least. But Merridy had just started working for him, had just saved up enough money to move into a room of her own. After the incident with Jean, he had wanted to make sure she’d be fine if anything happened to him. It wasn’t like he had any other relatives, or would need all his money once he was dead.
He’d never forgive himself if this was what brought her down with him now.
“Do you think she’ll talk? If we bring her here, I mean.” Smith let his free hand glide over a rusty metal ring in the wall. “What do you think I’ll have to do for her to admit what she’s done? To tell me what you have done?” Letting go of the metal ring, Smith returned to stand in front of Cedric, watching his face as he said, “Keep her hanging for a day or two? Break some fingers? Or perhaps slice the flesh off her bones?”
The thought of Smith getting his dirty fucking hands on her was unbearable. Of her ending up in the dungeon again, like when he had found her; hurt and terrified. Getting tortured because of him. No one would save her this time. Not from the cruelty of the guards, not from ending her life on the gallows if she was found guilty.
Smith crouched down, leaning closer. “What was she involved in, I ask.”
“The only thing she was involved in was my dick.”
Cedric didn’t know where the words had come from. He needed an excuse—any excuse—to explain why she had been so close to him. The sad part was that it really was just friendship. He had offered her to work for his legal business long before she had decided to join the illegal one. Nothing of that would help her now. 
“What?” Smith asked, sounding incredulous. “You want to tell me you fucked your secretary?”
Cedric said nothing. 
“No.” Smith slammed his hand against the wall next to Cedric’s head. Cedric managed not to flinch. “I don’t believe you. Everyone knows what you’re…” He looked Cedric up and down, a snide frown on his lips, almost spitting out the word as he added, “Into. What you are… oh excuse me.” He gestured vaguely towards his throat with an exaggerated grimace. “Were married to. I bet the last cunt you’ve seen was your mother’s.”
“It’s been twenty-five years.” Cedric tried to sound casual, but his voice trembled. Forcing the words out was hard, but keeping his image clear was less important than to keep Merridy safe. Yvan would have agreed with him. “Things get stale. Are you married, Smith? Coming home to the same bored visage every day? Do you never want to stick it—”
A backhanded slap cut off Cedric’s taunting words. At least it hadn’t been the baton. He used his tongue to feel for his teeth, spitting out blood.
“So you’re telling me you take some random slut off the street and pay her to run one of the most well known businesses in the Vandaya district?” Smith scoffed. “All for occasionally sucking your dick?”
“Sucking dick came first.” Cedric grinned. He hoped the blood on his teeth looked every bit as horrible as it felt. “Finding out she had a knack for numbers was an added bonus.”
“Mh. Nah.” Smith tapped the wall, then straightened up. “Doesn’t make sense. You can get that at every whorehouse in the city.”
“Look at you! An expert on whorehouses! So you do—” 
This time Smith used the baton. It wasn’t a full force blow—one of those might have knocked Cedric out—but it was enough to make his head slam back against the wall as his vision turned black. Metal sounded, then he was roughly dragged to his feet and shoved a step forward. By the time his gaze cleared, they had joined the shackles in front of him and pulled them up with a chain coming from the ceiling. 
Cedric stumbled another step forward, trying to keep up. His right leg gave way under him almost immediately, his ankle unable to hold any of his weight. He pushed himself up with his left leg, twisting until his left wrist was slightly lower than his right. The pain ripped through his right shoulder, seizing his chest, making it hard to breathe. But his right arm was already useless, and if he managed to keep his weight off his left, he might not ruin his good hand as well.
Not that there was anything he could use it for. Not that there was any way out of this for him. He couldn’t allow himself to think about that. He was going to die one way or another. All that mattered now was making sure he would take no one else with him.
Smith waited until Cedric was almost steady on his feet, before bringing the baton down against his side. Cedric struggled to keep standing, swinging in his restraints. The hit had driven the air out of his lungs. At least that way he couldn’t cry out.
“Perhaps you want to change your answer,” Smith said.
Cedric took his time to catch his breath. “Nothing to. Change,” he said. Speaking made the panic of his breathlessness spike, but he fought against it. “I don’t like to… to share. Can ask. Anyone.” That was the truth. The best lies were always close to the truth. “Perhaps you… like to share.” Despite the pain, Cedric managed another bloody grin. “How… how many… do… do you let fuck… your wife?”
The fury in Smith’s eyes was both satisfying and terrifying. Unfortunately, there was nothing Cedric could do to brace himself against the attack that followed. One hit glanced off his chin, throwing his head back, but most of them came down on the same spot, over and over again. If his ribs hadn’t been broken before, now they certainly were. Every inhale was accompanied by a sharp, stabbing pain in his side, making him tremble and wince. 
“Fine. Let’s assume she was your private little whore and nothing else.” Smith took a step back, his voice calm and casual, as if Cedric wasn’t struggling to breathe in front of him. “Who else was involved? We both know you haven’t pulled any of this off alone, old man.” Another snide look. “Can’t even walk on your own. Pathetic cripple.”
Cedric decided not to point out the fact that he could walk just fine if he wasn’t beaten and starved, thank you very much. Instead, he focused all his energy on getting his legs back under him. The pain in his ankle brought tears to his eyes, but he had to relieve the strain on his arms, at least for a moment.
“I… I don’t. Know.” His right leg crumpled, and Cedric couldn’t suppress a pained noise as his weight settled back on his left arm. “What you’re. Talking about.” 
“I want names, Harlow.”
Cedric spit out a mouthful of blood, but it was harder and harder to keep his act up. There wasn’t a bone in his body that didn’t hurt, and his involuntary attempts to keep his breaths shallow left him slightly lightheaded.
“And you… think. This. Will get you. Get what you. Want?” 
Smith put the tip of the baton against his injured shoulder, pushing against it. “No. Sadly, I don’t think so.” He grinned, pulling back. “That doesn’t mean I can’t enjoy it. Feel free to let me know if you change your mind.”
Cedric watched Smith lift the baton, letting it hover in plain view a moment too long to be a mere coincidence. He raised his head, meeting Smith’s gaze. “Fuck you,” he mumbled. It didn’t matter. He was going to die anyway. He would not take anyone else down with him.
By the time someone opened the cell door, Cedric didn’t have the strength to stand anymore. He couldn’t have said how long he had been hanging there, how often the baton had come down. At some point, he had been unable to stop himself from crying out any longer, from screaming until he ran out of breath. Now his throat hurt as much as the rest of his body.
Smith turned away from him, to exchange hushed words with a guard. Cedric didn’t pay attention to what was said, savoring the short reprieve. Blood had run down his right arm, from where the shackle had dug deep into his skin; more blood soaked the back of his shirt. The strain must have reopened the stab wound. At least he could still feel the fingers of his left hand. He balled them to a fist, pondering if it was worth trying to get his feet under him.
Before Cedric could attempt to, Smith was back, standing in front of him. Something in his expression sent a chill down Cedric’s spine. 
“We got another one,” he announced. “Not the sharpest tools in the shed, your friends.” 
He nodded, and the chain holding Cedric up was released. Cedric crumpled to the ground, unable to keep standing, or even catch himself. His head slammed against the stone floor, cushioned by the piles of dirty straw scattered there.
Smith loomed over him, a threatening silhouette against the flickering torch light in the back. “I wonder if he’s more… cooperative than you. Guess me and my friend here”—he swirled the baton around—“are gonna find out tomorrow. For today, I am done. I’m gonna go home, to a nice dinner, in my warm home.” He grinned, pushing Cedric’s side with his boot, like someone might push a piece of trash away. “To my wife, who’s still alive.”
Cedric grit his teeth, tears in his eyes as his chest locked up, refusing to expand properly. Panting, he curled up, trying to ease the strain on his body and to suppress the memory of Yvan; of broken green eyes, and golden hair in a pool of slowly drying blood. Somehow, it hurt more than his bruises and broken ribs. He tried not to let it show, focusing on his breaths, to not give that asshole the satisfaction of seeing him cry.
Not that Smith seemed to care. He ordered one of his men to chain Cedric’s hand back to the wall, then left. Cedric remained curled up on the floor, listening to the footsteps, and the door being locked. He waited a few more minutes, making sure no one changed their mind and came back, before he started to move. Gritting his teeth, he shuffled towards the wall, where he managed to sit up. The cell around him was spinning, his shirt disgustingly cold and slick at his back. He wondered if he was still bleeding. He had no way to tell.
Now that he was alone, he allowed his composure to crumble. His left hand started to shake, while his right arm hung limp and numb at his side. He tried to move his fingers, without success. He couldn’t feel anything below his elbow, which—considering the state his arm and hand were in—was probably for the better. Some of his fingers were bent in unnatural angles, most likely broken. He couldn’t remember when or how this had happened. The strip of skin around the shackle was rubbed raw, and blood had dried in long, thin lines on his skin. How much more fucking blood was he supposed to lose? Taking small, gasping breaths, he managed to keep the nausea at bay. At least his left hand still obeyed his will; a small consolation, considering his right shoulder felt like someone had ripped it in half.
Cedric closed his eyes, focusing on a different kind of dread. His desperate use of magic should have shattered geodes he had handed out to his most trusted acquaintances. A clear sign of danger, and an urgent warning to lay low, to best leave the city for a while. It was possible someone had ignored the warning—or the guards had caught someone who wasn’t truly involved. Either way, it looked like he was dragging either a trusted friend, or an almost innocent bystander down with him. Fuck.
Footsteps approached, making Cedric raise his head. A guard pushed his daily ration of how-the-fuck-did-you-manage-to-turn-sandpaper-into-mush through the bars of his door, before moving on to the next prisoner. Cedric would have to crawl across the cell to reach it, exhausting the length of the chain that bound him. He was too tired and in too much pain to do so. Instead, he kept wondering. Worrying. Cedric wished he knew who it was. He considered calling out, but he didn’t dare to. What if it was a bluff? What if it was someone they had no evidence against? What if confirming they knew each other would be what sealed the unknown person’s fate?
A few minutes after the guard’s steps had faded, a voice rose. It was slightly distorted, thrown back time and again by the cold dungeon walls, but unmistakable. Cedric swallowed, cold dread creeping up on him. Laurent. His friend and right hand. Making himself known by intoning a song they had sung so often, bidding some of their companions farewell, be it after death or departure. Sometimes without a cause as well, just two old friends, having drunk a bit too much, and become a bit too melancholic.
Should auld acquaintance be forgot And never brought to mind? Should auld acquaintance be forgot, and days of auld lang syne?
The cell blurred before Cedric’s eyes as he leaned his back against the wall. He had been trembling from exhaustion before, but now a shiver ran through his body, making him wrap his good arm around himself. A weak, hoarse voice Cedric had never heard in his life joined in, humming along for a verse, before adding the words.
We twa hae run about the braes, and pou’d the gowans fine But we’ve wander’d mony a weary fit, sin’ auld lang syne.
On its own, it might have been bland, unpleasant even, but together with Laurent’s voice and the dungeon’s echo, it had a haunting effect. Cedric let one more verse pass in waiting, and listened to another while trying to swallow the lump in his throat. This was it, then. His husband gone. His own life forfeit. His best friend waiting for death with him. He could only hope the guards wouldn’t be able to identify anyone else. Since the incident with Colette, there was no paperwork left for them to find, and Cedric would make sure to take his allies’ names with him into the grave. 
When he raised his own voice, it was steady, despite the tears running silently down his face. 
And there’s a hand, my trusty fiere And gie’s a hand o’ thine And we’ll tak’ a right gude-willie waught for auld lang syne.
For auld lang syne, my dear For auld lang syne We’ll tak’ a cup o’ kindness yet For auld lang syne
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[ID: The banner shows a broken window, outside which the sun sets behind an iron fence. The sky is bright yellow and orange. The title nuisance is written across it in scribbled looking letters with a orange to yellow to orange gradient. All other images are purely ornamental lines. End ID.]
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yes, i’m a squib | part 32.
Summary: Y/N Black has always been a squib, to the dismay of her pureblood family. Cast out to the orphanage at a young age, she thought that was her life. Until her relative Sirius Black breaks out of Azkaban. Suddenly a letter to Hogwarts in thrusted into her hand and Y/N becomes a true part of the magical Wizarding World.
Warnings for the Series: violence, death, light smut, angst, fluff
Pairing: harry potter x black!reader, cedric diggory x black!reader
Word Count: 3.1k
Previous Part | (Series Masterlist)
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The breakfast table was quiet in the morning. Kreacher cooked and you sat eating porridge while waiting for the others to get ready. You had gotten up before them so you were fully dressed already. Padfoot’s bowl of food was on the table as well instead of the floor. Upstairs, the sound of a shower finally stopped. You almost dropped your spoon of porridge when your friends came running into the kitchen.
“That room upstairs, R.A.B., it’s the same initials as the letter that was in the fake locket.”
“Upstairs? Oh, Dad’s brother. Regulus Arcturus Black. He was a Death Eater, we don’t talk about that or go into his room.”
Kreacher jumped onto the table, grabbing the fake locket out of Harry’s hands. You were all in a bit of shock at that. Kreacher never behaved that way after he and Sirius got on friendly terms. The elf was just staring at the locket like it was a baby. It took three calls of you yelling his name to snap him out of it.
“When I took Master Malfoy home, Kreacher made a mistake,” he said. “Left Mundungus.”
“What was Mundungus Fletcher doing in our house? I said to never let him in after Dad died.”
“Master Lupin said he was an Order member and they needed his help to fight at Hogwarts, said to—”
“Never mind, Kreacher. I’m not mad at you. I’ll be speaking with Uncle Remus.”
Harry took the locket. “What did Mundungus do? What mistake did you make?”
“Stole the locket, Master Regulus’ things! Tried to take Mistress (Y/N)’s things, stole your journal! Kreacher failed Master Regulus’ orders!”
You quickly scooped him up before he could reach for one of the heavy cast iron skillets in the kitchen. That was something you and Sirius never quite learned how to stop Kreacher from hurting himself if he felt like he failed orders— you weren’t even sure why house-eleves did that. When Kreacher finally froze up, you set him down. He wiped his nose on his shirt and told you all the story of how Regulus got the locket in the first place.
“Dobby!” Harry called out. “Bring us Mundungus Fletcher.”
Kreacher willingly went with Dobby, feeling like he needed to make up for something. There was nothing to do but wait for the elves to come back which you thought would have taken a few hours out most. But night fell and neither Dobby or Kreacher were back. And then the next night fell and the same thing happened. Ron passed by the window to see two hooded men standing outside. He called you all over.
“Death Eaters.”
“They can’t see us but this means we can’t leave.”
The thought didn’t bring you much comfort. Everyone retreated to the living room, feeling better once away from the front of the house. Waiting made you all antsy. It also turned into Ron having a habit of clicking the lights on and off as he played with the deluminator. That led to constant fighting between him and Hermione who was trying to read anything and everything that could help against Voldemort. You got up first, not being able to handle the arguments after another night of the house-elves not showing up. Harry followed quickly after.
He had seen your room a few times but that was back in fifth year. No one came to Grimmauld the entire sixth year because they thought you needed time. Harry found your room to have a calming effect. It was the same feeling he had whenever he was just near you. He came up behind you and wrapped his arms around you. You both moved to the large beanbag in the corner of your room.
“Harry?”
“Yes?”
“What do you want to do when this is over?”
“Be an Auror,” he said definitively.
“Really? You don’t want to sit down?”
“It won’t stop with Voldemort. There’s always dark wizards, I want none of them to ever think they can get as big as Voldemort. What do you want?”
“Run my store, I was thinking of making it a cafe. I might take McGonagall’s offer to teach alchemy for real, this year is another test run. I just want a quiet life.”
“Quiet,” Harry muttered.
“Is that not what you want?”
“It’s different.”
Different tended to mean bad. You didn’t realize that Harry was still dead set on being an Auror. You thought after Dumbledore that he wouldn’t. Last year made you realize a lot of things. Actually, Sirius’ death did. Running around wasn’t your style. Especially as a banshee. You didn’t want to constantly be worried about people. You didn’t want to feel chills or hear whispers. Easy and quiet. That was the dream.
“What are you thinking about?” Harry asked.
You shook your head and just relaxed against him. Harry poked at your cheeks, prodding you to tell him. When you didn’t say anything, he tilted your head back. You bit your lip as you smiled. Harry thought you would tell him but you stayed quiet. He pressed a bunch of kisses all over your face, telling you to tell him in between every single one. He gave up and just kissed you when he realized that he wasn’t going to get a word out of you. You let him keep kissing you despite your head being in a mildly uncomfortable angle. This was worth it, you thought. You could handle Harry always leaving if it meant he came home and you could just lay in his arms and kiss him. Or you could learn to. But could you handle him always being in danger? Would he give it up if you two wanted kids one day? You and Harry were usually on the same page about things but not this time.
“Do you want food?”
“Sure.”
The two of you got up, walking past Hermione and Ron who were still arguing. You heard the clicking of metal, making you both move a bit faster. Harry pulled out his wand— his arm held back to make sure you were behind him. The door to your house slowly opened.
“Don’t move,” Harry commanded as he pointed his wand.
“Hold your fire. It’s Remus!” The voice said quickly.
Remus stepped out of the shadows.
“What’s my patronus?” Harry asked.
Remus chuckled. “That’s a good one, not many people know. It was a stag and now it’s a badger.”
Harry lowered his wand and you ran to Remus.
“Where’s Tonks, Andromeda? Are you—”
“We’re okay. They went back to Andromeda’s old house, you need to be there too. This isn’t safe. They’re watching Grimmauld, I had to apparate with no mistakes.”
“We know. We saw them yesterday.”
You all left the front room and entered the living room. Ron and Hermione stopped arguing but only because they were so happy to see another face that wasn’t you or Harry. Remus handed out a few butterbeers. Everyone was safe but the Ministry was gone. Voldemort, the Ministry of Magic, and Death Eaters all meant the same thing. A puppet named Pius Thicknesse was the acting Minister of Magic— he was under the Imperius Curse. Even the Daily Prophet was now under Voldemort’s control. There weren’t deaths amongst wizard families yet but it was a matter of time. You all got lucky at the wedding. You wouldn’t get lucky again. Remus pulled out the latest Daily Prophet. The headline was loud and clear.
Ron scoffed. “They can’t seriously be accusing Harry of killing Dumbledore.”
Remus nodded. “If (Y/N) wasn’t a banshee or squib they would’ve accused her too. As far as anyone knows, you two were the only ones who saw Dumbledore before he died. They won’t print if anyone else was there.”
“They want to discredit Harry,” Hermione said. “Make everyone question if he’s on the right side.”
“That’s not it.” Remus flipped the page.
You gasped reading it. The Ministry was saying that muggleborns somehow stole magic and needed to be punished. Those that couldn’t prove close relatives as witches or wizards were going to be taken into the Ministry and questioned. Those that registered themselves to a Muggleborn Registration Commission would be let off without punishment. You knew that lie wouldn’t last very long.
“He’s making schooling mandatory,” Remus said. “They’re going to weed out the muggleborns that way because all students have to confirm blood status before attending… they want the squibs there too.”
“I’m not staying away from Hogwarts, Uncle Remus.”
“Merlin’s Beard, you are just like Sirius. (Y/N), please. Go to Andromeda and stay with us.”
“They won’t touch me. Voldemort won’t let them. I’ll stay as long as Voldemort thinks we’re still connected.”
“Thinks you’re still connected? But why wouldn’t… who are you…”
You jumped as Remus practically shot out of his chair. He grabbed Harry by his shirt collar— the younger man didn’t protest.
“Did you use the Cruciatus Curse on my daughter? Did you hurt her?!” A growl left his throat.
You didn’t miss the way that Remus didn’t say goddaughter. If she was there, you were sure that Tonks would have the biggest grin on her face because she would be right about Remus’ parenting. You put a hand on Remus’ arm.
“I asked him to. It was better than Voldemort, Harry would have never done it if I didn’t ask.”
Remus slowly let go of Harry, still fuming a bit. Kreacher appeared in front of you.
“Dobby has the traitor in the kitchen.”
You nodded at Harry, Ron, and Hermione. Fletcher and the horcruxes was their mission. You stayed with Remus in the living room. He looked at you before moving to the couch. Remus inspected your neck as if one cut would make him set off on Harry again.
“Is Hogwarts necessary, (Y/N)?” he asked. “If Voldemort finds out you aren’t connected, he might have them kill you.”
“I don’t know where else I can help. I’m a squib but I’m also the only known banshee, I can’t just sit back. I don’t get to.”
“I don’t like the thought of you going back. You should be with us at Andromeda’s house.”
“And let Voldemort try to destroy the protection charms to get his banshee back?”
“I guess I can’t force you.”
“I’ll be an adult in a month, even if you want me to come with you. I’ll just leave after.”
Remus nodded solemnly. He left shortly after to go take care of Tonks and Andromeda. You went to the kitchen just as Kreacher left with Mundungus. Harry confirmed that they had the information that they needed. They just needed a good time to finally leave Grimmauld.
That time didn’t come quickly. Death Eaters were still watching the place. Kreacher and Dobby had been getting all the food so you wouldn’t use any that had been in Hermione’s purse. The trio practiced spells and made plans while you felt mildly useless. Multiple times they said that wasn’t true. After all, they wouldn’t be in Grimmauld if it wasn’t for you. They had taken a short break from working. Harry went downstairs to find you after you left an hour ago. You were in the kitchen. It was a bit silly but he knocked on the open door anyway. You told him to come in and he did, closing the door behind him. As he got closer, he could see you were playing with the Resurrection Stone while looking at the Daily Prophet. Snape was made Headmaster— you had expected such. You were going to Hogwarts soon and the other three were going to be attempting to steal a locket from the Ministry of Magic. You got up to dig around the refrigerator. You held up some cherry syrup.
“I learned how to make my own Shirley Temple,” you said, shaking the cherry syrup bottle.
Harry chuckled as you made two drinks. You both decided to stay sat in the kitchen. Harry knocked on the table wood.
“I like eating in here more than the dining room.”
“Me too, everyone seems closer together in the kitchen. It’ll be nice when Tonks gives birth. I think Grimmauld would seem happier with a baby around.”
“Do you know when she’s due?”
“Well we found out almost right away so it’s only been a month or two. She’s due in spring, either March or April. They were going to tell everyone the day after the wedding. Then everything went to shit.”
“We’ll stop Voldemort. He won’t get away with this for much longer… shouldn’t you be leaving for Hogwarts now? Where’s your stuff?”
“Already at the school, I’m not taking the train. Kreacher and I are just going to apparate, I wish I could do it on my own. I want to go with you.”
“You know I want that too. It’s only because you’re a squib, nothing else, I wish you could come with us too.”
You gave Harry a small nod before downing the rest of your drink.  
Harry pulled you to him. “I love when you taste like Shirley Temple.”
“Then kiss me.”
His hands pressed on your backside until you were on him. It was the same as a few nights ago. Sweet kisses were gone and replaced with ones of desperation. You pulled apart and rested your foreheads against each other. Your eyes crossed as you tried to look at Harry.
“Harry?”
“Yes?”
“This’ll be the last time I see you for a while,” you whispered. “You’re gone after I leave Grimmauld, I’m going to miss you. I love you.”
“I love you, too.”
“Harry?”
“Yes?” He asked, amused that you constantly said his name.
“This feels like a farewell.”
“It’s not, just a goodbye,” Harry said with assurance.
Kreacher met you in the kitchen— Ron and Hermione were behind him. You stood up, not ready to leave. You gave your friends a little wave of goodbye. Ron and Hermione hugged you. You didn’t catch the last word they said before you and Kreacher were standing outside the gates of Hogwarts. You walked through and into the castle. There was almost no sign of life and you knew the students hadn’t arrived yet. You didn’t know what else to do but knock on Professor Sprout’s office door.
“(Y/N),” she said cheerfully and pulled you into a hug. “Do you want tea?”
“I’m alright, thank you. Professor—”
“It’s Pomona, you’re faculty now.”
“I’m technically in seventh year still.”
“You didn’t get the letter? Flitwick passed you for finishing Charms. Snape said you’ve completed Defense Against the Dark Arts as well. I signed it myself.”
“But I still had this year to go, I’m no—”
“The Carrows are taking certain classes. Defense Against the Dark Arts doesn’t exist anymore. It’s the Dark Arts. Minerva and I pleaded for you to be taken out before they try something… it is good to have you here but please keep your head down.”
“I understand.”
“Good.”
“Um, Profe— Pomona, Dumbledore’s will said that I get his office?”
“Yes! Severus was livid but honored the will. It’s yours to use. You need to set a password. Just go tell the statue and it’ll change.”
“Okay, if I’m no longer a seventh year, where do I sleep?”
“The Headmaster’s office is connected to a sleeping chamber. Your stuff should already be there, your house-elf dropped it off in your old prefect’s room but we fixed that right away.”
“Oh. Well, I guess I’ll just go then.”
“(Y/N),” Sprout lowered her voice. “If anything happens or if you get any word from Mr. Potter, tell me and Minerva or even Hagrid. We’ve received Dumbledore’s final letters. We know to wait.”
“I will, Professor.”
“Pomona.”
“Right, I’ll remember that.”
You left Sprout’s office to go up to Dumbledore’s office which was now yours. You weren’t dumb. Dumbledore wanted no one in his office to find whatever he had hidden in there. There were going to be things you probably had to find or use. Maybe he knew how to stop Voldemort without any more killings. You pushed that thought out of your head because you knew it wasn’t correct. You froze when you saw Snape standing in front of the statue that led to Dumbledore’s office. Some of the Death Eaters were with him. You felt like a piece of meat as they stared.  
“Headmaster,” you said quietly.
“I don’t know why Dumbledore left you this.”
“I don’t either.”
“You’ll do well to mind your business while at Hogwarts this year,” Snape sneered.
“I plan on it.”
He grabbed your arm. “And even think of speaking to Harr—”
“We broke up, I don’t even know where he is.”
Snape blinked. “You don’t?”
You squeezed your eyes shut and sniffled. “Right before Bill’s wedding. I had to go alone! H-he said he couldn’t be with a banshee, n-not in the real world.”
The Death Eaters laughed. “Potter doesn’t realize the power he would’ve had. Let’s go, the students should be here soon. Time to see whose muggleborn.”
Snape let go of you and went with the rest of them. You whispered a new password into the statue and raced up the stairs leading to the office. You only breathed when you were in safety. The lie might have given you some distance and you were glad you thought of it quickly. You began to think maybe this was why Dumbledore left you his office. You were going to need a place to hide and this was not going to be an easy time.
(Part 33)...
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m0n0lithical · 11 months
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SAVE FILE SIMS - OASIS SPRINGS
These sims have 1 outfit in each category, likes/dislikes (including compatibility), pronouns & sexuality, applicable family dynamics, jobs, and skills. Household details under cut.
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SFS || MF
ROBINSON - HOUSEHOLD DETAILS
Cedric Robinson - Good, Lazy, Romantic, Soulmate Aspiration. Human.
Patrick Robinson - Self-Assured, Loner, Materialistic, Fabulously Wealthy Aspiration. Human.
Paxton Robinson - Creative, Creative Genius Aspiration. Human.
Fletcher Robinson - Genius, Whiz Kid Aspiration. Human.
Dimitri Robinson - Cheerful, Social Butterfly Aspiration. Human.
"Cedric sometimes feels like a single dad to his adopted sons with Patrick being at work at all hours of the day. Even when he's home, he ignores the boys, and only seems to care about them when he can show them off to his high society friends. Cedric is almost to his breaking point.“
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animallover81 · 2 years
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Unpopular Harry Potter opinions?
Oooh, I don’t know if these are ‘unpopular’ but oh well
Umbridge should’ve died, like why kill off Fred, Tonks, Remus, Mad-Eye, Dobby, Cedric, Sirius, Hedwig etc. when toad face was RIGHT there. But I guess jkr wanted the whole ‘the good die young, the bad stay’ type of shit
Mundungus Fletcher should’ve died too, man was a fucking coward.
Snape dying wasn’t that tragic for me tbh, I kinda just read it and I was like, meh whatever, lets move on.
I kind of would’ve liked to see more of young Lily and Petunia, how their relationship was, maybe a slight Petunia redemption part, because while she was jealous of her sister, she had a lot of regrets too, sure she still treated Harry like trash, but seeing a what if of what Petunia’s life could’ve been would be nice.
 On that note, I would also would’ve liked to see Dudley, the type of person he became, because he changed a LOT from the dementor attack, and I like to think he and Harry had a pretty close friendship later on, after the 2nd Wizarding War
Idk if this is an ‘opinion’ but I would like to see Grindelwald’s ‘redemption’ how he spent his days in Numengard and how he reflected on his actions a long time ago
GRINDELWALD WAS/IS MORE POWERFUL THAN VOLDEMORT EVER WAS, FIGHT ME ON THIS.
I want more content on Marlene McKinnion, the Bones family, the Longbottom family, Fabian and Gideon Prewett (Molly Weasley’s brothers) and basically the Order of the Phoenix (the original)
Where was Winky after the 4th book? I would’ve liked to see what happened to her too
They should’ve introduced Astoria Greengrass (Draco Malfoy’s wife) early in the books
Also what happened to Dean and Seamus?
Cho Chang deserves better
Tonks deserves better
Regulus Black needs more backstory
Remadora is NOT a bad ship
hmmm, I can’t think of anything else, but if i do, i shall add it to the tags or reblogs.
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episims · 23 days
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Felix "You sell frozen pizzas now? Cool."
Troy "That's right, you won't have to travel to Gritford to stock ready meals anymore. But why won't you delight your father with a fresh fish, too? I'll offer a modest discount for buying both."
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Troy "And how may I help you, sir?"
Cedric "Haha... no need for such formality. Is Vera home?"
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Troy "Err... no, she's at work. Do you have business with her?"
Cedric "Ah... I just wished to exchange news. No matter! The fish is fresh, you said?"
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Deanna "-you barely made it! We're about to close."
Jamie "Sorry! Felix said that you have dairy products now. It's always a trouble to get those through the desert without spoiling them."
Deanna "I know, right?? We should have one fridge for ice cream only."
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Deanna "See? I told you it's a brilliant idea."
Troy "Yes, I admit so." Fish wasn't selling like it used to... and now we have something to offer for the youth, too. "I, uh. Thank you, Deanna."
Deanna "Hey, it's my job as a manager, right? You're welcome, Troy."
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eitmonline · 7 months
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EITM Playlist 9/14/23
Counting Crows - Round Here | 6:08
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Sia - Gimme Love | 6:25
Kix - Yeah, Yeah, Yeah | 6:30
The 1975 - About You | 7:02
Counting Crows - Omaha | 7:34
Pearl Jam - Pilate | 7:52
Pearl Jam - Satan’s Bed | 7:57
Miley Cyrus - Used To Be Young | 8:29
Måneskin - HONEY (ARE YOU COMING?) | 8:45
Counting Crows - Mr. Jones | 9:05
The Mars Volta - Son et Lumiere | 9:20
The Mars Volta - Inertiatic ESP | 9:25
Fletcher - Healing | 9:49
instagram
Counting Crows - Rain King | 10:15
Lamb Of God - Redneck | 10:31
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odrseasonone · 7 months
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Kate's Characters S1
ok so this is for my own brain but here're my ~top tier~
"heavy hitters"
cassius montagu
rowena godiva
dezod destriksyon
charles degrey
cordelia arrington
avelina beaumont
lynessa beaumont
evie beaumont
cedric boleyn
harrion mortain/james garin
avina moysaunt
isabella quincy
jon valles (boo, hiss)
characters to get to full analysis, time hopefully permitting (ideally i'll do them all but...these are less of a priority)
vincent alainon
cris barret
osyth braund
ed browne
ivette bryant
lena castillon
godwin caulmont
jesper dalmas
leon darcy
dominick fletcher
roderick fray
sybil grancourt
aurora hastings
rose l’archer
isolde martell
lucian moran
loys mortain
britta mortain
azémar murdac
radulfus osmunt
andrya rience
marsilla ros
alia stafford
beatrix stafford
malculmus stafford
rochilda thaon
warin thorel
isac tulles
osmund urry
aymon vaux
adela vipont
normand vipont
remon vipont
lyna vipont
joffrey vymont
gresilda wystan
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manilafm · 1 year
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Most wanted characters from any fandoms please??
We asked some of our current members of this RPG, and they responded with Rose Granger-Weasley, Harry James Potter, Luna Lovegood, Marlene McKinnon, James Potter, Lily Evans, Mary MacDonald, Molly Prewett-Weasley, Remus Lupin, Sirius Black, Arthur Weasley, George Weasley, Percy Weasley, Charlie Weasley, Bill Weasley, Petunia Evans, Fleur Delacour, Draco Malfoy, Frank Longbottom, Neville Longbottom, Alice Longbottom, Narcissa Black, Penelope Clearwater, Roxanne Weasley, Angelina Johnson, Dominique Weasley, Andromeda Black, Lucy Weasley, Lavender Brown, Molly Weasley ii, Victoire Weasley, Minerva McGonagall, Fred Weasley ii, Severus Snape, Albus Dumbledore, Albus Severus Potter, James Sirius Potter, Hugo Granger-Weasley, Louis Weasley, Cedric Diggory, Cho Chang, Katie Bell, Pansy Parkinson, Lee Jordan, Oliver Wood, Amos Diggory, Hannah Abbott, and Bellatrix Lestrange from Harry Potter ; Gabriella Montez, Troy Bolton, Ryan Evans, Kelsi Nielsen, Sharpay Evans, Emma Ross, Jessie Prescott, K.C. Cooper, Marisa Clark, Macy Misa, Kimberly 'Kim' Possible, Shego, Ron Stoppable, Dr. Drakken, Bonnie Rockwaller, Monique, Wade, Tara, Evie Grimhilde, Mal, Jay, Carlos De Vil, Harry Hook, Uma, Princess Audrey Rose, Princess Ariel Triton, Princess Anna, Queen Elsa, Woody, Jessie, and Buzz Lightyear from various Disney fandoms ; Holly J. Sinclair, Fiona Coyne, Zoë Rivas, Clare Edwards, Darcy Edwards, Imogen Moreno, Liberty Van Zandt, Terri MacGregor, Anya MacPherson, Mia Jones, Sean Cameron, Craig Manning, Alli Bhandari, Frankie Hollingsworth, Emma Nelson, Alex Nuñez, Kirk Cameron 'K.C.' Guthrie, Maya Matlin, Paige Michalchuk, Manuella 'Manny' Santos, Lola Pacini, and Jake Martin from Degrassi: The Next Generation / Degrassi: The Next Class ; Sam Manson, Danny Fenton, Tucker Foley, Valerie Gray, Paulina Sanchez, and Star from Danny Phantom ; Abigail 'Abby’ Lincoln, Cree Lincoln, Lizzie Devine, Fanny Fulbright, The Delightful Children from Down The Lane, and all of the other available characters from Codename: Kids Next Door ; Queen Chrysalis, Scootaloo, Cozy Glow, Starlight Glimmer, Rarity, Moon Dancer, Apple Bloom, Princess Cadance, Silverstream, Silver Spoon, Diamond Tiara, Babs Seed, Wind Sprint, Smolder, Marble Pie, Ocellus, Luster Dawn, Sugar Belle, Princess Luna, Sweetie Belle, Princess Celestia, Lyra Heartstrings, Sweetie Drops or 'Bon Bon', Spike, Discord, King Sombra, and The Storm King from My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic ; Isabella García-Shapiro, Vanessa Doofenshmirtz, Phineas Flynn, Ferb Fletcher, Candace Flynn, Adyson Sweetwater, Milly, Ginger Hirano, Holly, Gretchen, Katie, and Mrs. Linda Flynn-Fletcher from Phineas And Ferb !! And if you have any specific fandoms in mind to apply for, please send us another ask with the name of the fandom !! Thank you for your interest in our multi-fandom RPG !!
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byneddiedingo · 1 year
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Ronald Colman in Random Harvest (Mervyn LeRoy, 1942) Cast: Ronald Colman, Greer Garson, Philip Dorn, Susan Peters, Henry Travers, Reginald Owen, Bramwell Fletcher, Rhys Williams, Una O'Connor, Aubrey Mather, Margaret Wycherly, Arthur Margetson, Melville Cooper. Screenplay: Claudine West, George Froeschel, Arthur Wimperis, based on a novel by James Hilton. Cinematography: Joseph Ruttenberg. Art direction: Cedric Gibbons. Film editing: Harold F. Kress. Music: Herbert Stothart. It's a good thing that amnesia is as rare an affliction in real life as it is, because it gives the crafters of melodrama free rein to imagine its effects, such as the case of what might be called "double amnesia" that plagues Charles Rainier (Ronald Colman) in Random Harvest. For not only does Rainier forget who he is once, after suffering shell shock in the trenches of World War I, he then forgets what happened to him during that bout of amnesia after being hit by a taxi and brought back to his senses. That is, having once forgotten that he was heir to a lucrative family business, he now forgets that he wandered away from the asylum where he was being treated and fell in love with Paula (Greer Garson), a music hall performer who devoted herself to him as he launched a career as a writer named John Smith -- she calls him Smithy. But plucky Paula learns the truth about her Smithy, goes to business school and learns to be a high-powered corporate secretary, and gets herself hired as Charles Rainier's executive secretary -- all without revealing the truth about that lost passage in their lives. Was ever such nonsense taken seriously? Yes, indeed, because it's filmed through MGM's highest-quality gauze, with Colman at his handsome stoic best and Garson at her plummiest and dewiest, full of trembling self-sacrifice. It was a huge hit, partly because it hit wartime audiences where they lived: separated wives and husbands, uncertain whether they they would be reunited and made whole again. Today, we can look back on Random Harvest with irony, or view it as a product of a particular period of Hollywood history that will never come again. But it's made with such affection for its improbabilities, which are manifold, that I can't help admiring it.
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