#fhogself

[fifibabette]

Wedding Bells || Selfie

The past week had been nothing less than a whirlwind of insanity. To say otherwise would be a lie and then some. Fiona wasn’t getting any sleep, the most she’d gotten was four hours from a potion she’d taken the night before, and even that had been restless. Not to mention, her husband to be was getting more and more impatient and testy with every passing minute, and Fiona was throwing herself at every problem before it got a chance to really become a thing. That meant spending more time in Ethelbert’s bed in the last week than she’d spent in the whole rest of the time they’d known each other combined. It was a dirty job, but if it meant keeping his temper at bay while she stressed about the final details, she’d do it.

Fiona rolled out of Ethelbert’s bed the morning of her wedding bright and early, though she felt anything but bright. He was already gone for the day, presumably day drinking with his groomsmen, and honestly, Fiona didn’t care. Normally, she had a beef with how much he drank, but today, it meant he was out of her hair, and she could get ready in peace. She made her way down the hall to her rooms, the place she’d moved into when Ethelbert had all but forced her to move out of her apartment earlier in the summer. She stared into the full length mirror beside where her wedding dress was propped on the mannequin, looking more beautiful than she could have ever imagined. She had to admit, as much as she didn’t want to do this wedding, she definitely loved her wedding dress, and Ken had done an amazing job working on it with her. She really wouldn’t have been able to do it if not for him. Sighing softly, she pulled her gaze from the dress’ reflection and back to her face. Her skin was dull and lifeless, like she hadn’t seen the sun or happiness in a year, and she poked at her cheeks and prodded at the skin at her temples, hoping to bring some life back to her face. She’d frowned so much in the last few months that she was pretty sure she needed a facelift to bring her features back to where they were meant to be.

Fiona took her seat at her vanity and gave all of the products she’d pulled for her big day one more once over before starting in on her routine, wanting to get a good portion of it done before her bridal party showed up to get ready as well. Only relying on the early morning light streaming through the windows, she started with the moisturizer, hoping that it would help brighten up her pallid complexion. As she worked, her mind drifted to what else needed to be done that day and the last minute details that she needed to assure got completed before she walked down the aisle. She was prepared for a beautiful ceremony, but she knew that unless everything else went perfectly at the reception, her non-pureblood guests would send Ethelbert into such a tizzy that he would probably ruin the night for everyone. As much as she wanted to set him on edge, she didn’t want everyone else’s night to be ruined.

It wasn’t much longer before there was a knock on her door, followed by some talking and then rambunctious laughter, and Fiona had to resist rolling her eyes. On the other side was her bridal party, the people that were going to stand beside her while she married one of the worst men she’d ever known. Of course, they didn’t know he was awful, they’d only met the guy once and he’d been on his best behaviour, but still. It hurt to know that they were so excited and she couldn’t find in herself to be.

Plastering a smile on her face, she opened up the door wide and greeted the glowing girls who pushed their way into her room and pulled open more curtains and opened a few of the windows to let in the crisp morning breeze. Fiona couldn’t help but shiver as the cooler air hit her skin, pulling her robe tighter around her.

“Oh, Fiona, you shouldn’t be getting ready in the dark like this, why aren’t any of your lights on?” one girl asked in a rather motherly tone, flitting about and turning on every light she came across. “Fifi, this dress is beautiful!” another spouted, fawning over the creation in the corner. “Thank you,” she said quickly before returning to her vanity. “Shouldn’t you all be getting ready too?” she asked with a teasing smile before gesturing to the room across the hall. “Your dresses are in there, and if you need anything at all, just holler. We’ll have one of the house elves get it for you,” she continued as she looked back into the mirror. After a chorus of excited squeals and a flurry of hugs, the girls were gone, the door across the hall shutting behind them.

Fiona let out a huge sigh of relief, physically deflating. It was easy to pretend with other people around. Much easier, really, but it always left her exhausted. Still, she figured she had a solid hour before they started making their way back to her, and she was going to use it not pretending.

After a few minutes of sitting in the silence, Fiona reached over and put some music on, wanting to try and bring her mood up. This was her dream wedding, after all, and girls were supposed to be excited for their big day. Three songs in, and she was already feeling better, like maybe today wouldn’t be the worst day ever after all, and then she heard the light knock on her door, spotting a familiar face in the mirror, one she sure wasn’t going to show.

“Gracie?” she breathed out, her face lighting up with a genuine smile for the first time in what felt like years. Fiona turned in her chair to see her best friend standing there with a smile on her face, and it didn’t take long for her to stand up and bolt to the other girl, nearly crying at the sight of her. “I can’t believe you made it! I thought you were going to be too busy,” she said curiously, the smile never leaving her face. “Did you really think I was going to miss this day of all days? C’mon Fi, you know I wouldn’t miss this for the world.” Fiona hugged Grace again and pulled her into the room, “Come in, come in, I’m in the middle of getting ready, sit with me while I do?” it was really less of a question and more of a command. “How are things going? Are you happy? I have missed you so much, you have no idea. It’s just not the same without you.” It felt like they had eons to catch up on, but really, Grace looked happy and healthy, and suddenly, she didn’t have to pretend that everything was going to be fine.

“Yes, we’re really busy, but things are going well. I’m so happy, Fiona. We have a big house and we’re planning on lots of babies, and it’s going to be wonderful. You should come visit us someday.” The idea was nice, and Fiona would love to spend time with them when she needed to just get away. “I might just take you up on that,” she agreed, looking at Grace through the mirror with a smile. “You’ll stay for the ceremony, right? Please...I don’t want to do this without you.”

“Of course. We can’t stay for much longer after that, but we’ll be here as long as we can. Shang has a game in the morning, and he needs to get sleep, and I don’t want to be cranky in the morning.” Grace explained with a laugh, and Fiona nodded in understanding. “I’m just glad you’ll stay. Oh, I’m so glad you’re here!” she repeated, still feeling the excitement from first seeing her in the doorway.

They continued talking for the next hour, catching up on everything that had happened in the last few months and beyond, and Fi regaled how she met Ethelbert, which earned a laugh from Grace, calling his name completely ridiculous. Fiona couldn’t argue it, either. She could try to defend it, but his name always kind of made her laugh. As time passed, her bridesmaids started trickling into the room, looking bright and ready for the day’s events. They milled about and joined in on the conversation between Grace and Fiona, and it wasn’t until all the girls were back in the room that Fiona was finished with her makeup. With a wave of her wand, her hair smoothed out and laid in perfect loose curls down her back. And then it was time to get into the dress. It was beautiful, and it fit Fiona like a glove. It took two people to help her into it because it was so tight, but once it was buttoned and zipped up, there wasn’t a single spot that didn’t fit her perfectly. She’d definitely have to give Ken major props for making it so perfect. She’d thought it many times leading up to the big day, but seeing it on right before her ceremony, it brought tears to her eyes. 

Her bridesmaids gathered around her, and Grace stood beside her, and she felt complete. Like today was going to be one of the best days of her life after all. “Okay, girls. Let’s do this. Would one of you go and check to see if my future husband and his band of goons is ready? We have to leave soon if we’re going to get there on time.” The girls all rushed off to gather their things and check on the boys, and Fiona was left standing there with Grace. “I’ll see you there, okay?” she said thickly, the lump of emotion still in her throat as she leaned in and placed a kiss on either side of her friend’s face. “You and Shang are front row beside my dad. Thank you so much again. This means the world to me.” Grace squeezed Fiona’s hands and bid her goodbye before hustling off to get her husband and heading to the church.

Rather than apparate or try to take portkeys and risk ruining her dress, the entire wedding party took flying cars to the cathedral. It took longer, but they’d timed everything out perfectly that they weren’t late, and people were still showing up for the ceremony. Fiona could see from the other side of the door down the aisle, and she spotted Grace and Shang sitting just down the pew from her father, and a shared smile helped calm her nerves. One of her bridesmaids fussed over her dress, making sure all the feathers laid straight. Ethelbert came down from a side door to stand at the end of the aisle, looking annoyingly perfect in his gold-toned tuxedo that matched the gold lace in her dress. He was handsome, but that arrogant smile on his face that was meant just for her made her heart skip a beat, but not in a good way. He was getting everything he wanted, and she was getting nothing in return, really.

As each bridesmaid walked down the aisle, arm in arm with a groomsman, they dropped a kiss on her cheek before walking through the doors. The undying support from her friends made her nerves slowly dissipate, and when her musical cue came, she was ready. Everyone stood as she stood in the entryway of the door, and her gaze flicked from face to face, realising she really only knew less than half of the guests in attendance. At least the reception had more people she’d know there. Hopefully. Fiona held her bouquet in front of her and began her walk down the aisle, the music feeling painfully slow. She wasn’t in a rush to get to the end of the aisle, but the longer it took, the more she wanted to turn and run.

As she walked past people, pictures were snapped, and Fiona’s smile never once wavered. The metaphorical crown she wore on her head felt heavier on her head with every step, but she showed no outer signs of her inner turmoil. Her real, actual tiara, however, made her feel more powerful and like an actual crown, like she could make any other royal wedding jealous of her own. As Fiona approached the end of the aisle, her father stood from his seat and met her at the end, smiling wide at her. She could see the pride in his eyes, and it further solidified the fact in her mind that she was definitely doing the right thing here. He passed her hands to Ethelbert’s, and passed the bouquet to her maid of honor. Again, Fiona glanced at Grace, and she gave her a subtle thumbs up and a big smile as she took Shang’s hand in her own. She glanced at Shang who gave her a small wave, and she smiled in return before turning her attention back to Ethelbert. Purposely, she avoided looking at Denahi who was just on the other side of her father, knowing that he didn’t approve of the wedding, and not wanting to have anything sway her from this.

“You look beautiful,” Ethelbert said quietly, and Fiona gave him a small smile and a quiet thanks as they both looked at the minister.

“Ladies and gentlemen, family and friends, we are gathered here today to witness and celebrate the joining of Viscount Ethelbert Cavendish and Miss Fiona Babette in marriage. With love and commitment, they have decided to live their lives together as husband and wife.” The minister’s voice boomed through the cathedral, and while he couldn’t me more wrong in his statement, the reality of the day finally hit her. She was getting married right now, and this was her day. The part of her that always wanted to get married and be happily in love hoped that this would be good for her and for them and that things would be okay after this, and that when they said their vows, it wouldn’t be lies.

“True marriage is more than simply joining two persons together through the bonds of matrimony. It is also the union of two hearts and the blending of two families. It lives on the love you give each other and never grows old, but also thrives on the joy of each new day. Marriage is, and should be, an expression of love. May you always be able to talk things over, to confide in each other, to laugh with each other, to enjoy life together, and to also share those moments of quiet and peace, when the day is done. May you be blessed with a lifetime of happiness and a home of warmth and understanding.”

Here, Fiona and Ethelbert shared a look, knowing full and well that this was nothing more than a business transaction. It broke her heart to hear those words when she knew that he had no love for her. He’d never once humored her and tried to make her feel love. He’d never so much as told her that he cared for her, and while she didn’t feel love for him, she wanted to think that she was more than just a warm body to him.

“Ethelbert, if you would repeat after me?” His gaze never moved from hers as he nodded once in understanding.

“I, Ethelbert Cavendish, take you, Fiona Babette, as my lawfully wedded wife,” “I, Ethelbert Cavendish, take you, Fiona Babette, as my lawfully wedded wife,” “To have and to hold from this day forward,” “To have and to hold from this day forward,” “For better or worse, for richer or for poorer, in sickness and in health,” “For better or worse, for richer or for poorer, in sickness and in health,” “Til death do us part.” “Til death do us part.”

Ethelbert turned to his best man who approached with a box which housed her wedding ring and pulled it out, his attention moving back to her. “With this ring, I thee wed, and with it, I bestow upon thee all the treasures of my mind, my heart, and my hands.” The words almost sounded sincere as he slipped the ring onto her finger. His hands were gentler than usual, and as she looked up at his face, she could have sworn she saw real emotion on it. Before she could really dwell on it, however, the minister was calling for her attention. “Fiona, if you would repeat after me?” She nodded slightly, the smile coming to her lips again subconsciously. She wanted to believe he did care. She wanted it so desperately, and she thought maybe giving her vows would bring the emotion back to his face.

“I, Fiona Babette, take you, Ethelbert Cavendish, as my lawfully wedded husband,” “I, Fiona Babette, take you, Ethelbert Cavendish, as my lawfully wedded husband,” “To have and to hold from this day forward,” “To have and to hold from this day forward,” “For better or worse, for richer or for poorer, in sickness and in health,” “For better or worse, for richer or for poorer, in sickness and in health,” “Til death do us part.” “Til death do us part.”

Here, her maid of honor stepped up, offering the wedding band they’d gotten to match her ring. Fiona’s hand was trembling a bit as she picked it up, clearing her throat a bit as she turned back to Ethelbert. "Through this ring, I accept you as my husband, now and for all time,” she said with a returning smile and slipped the ring onto his finger with minimal trembling. He noticed it, though, and laced their fingers together with a reassuring squeeze. This time, her heart skipped a beat in a good way. Maybe he did care after all.

“With the exchange of vows and the physical promise of these rings, I declare you Mr. and Mrs. Cavendish. Ethelbert, you may kiss the bride.”

With those words, he all but swept her off her feet, pressing his lips to hers in a gentle but passionate kiss. It took her by surprise, he’d never been this gentle with her before. He’d never shown any sort of emotion toward her besides anger or annoyance or carnal hunger. This was entirely new, and it blinded her. When he finally let her go, she held onto him until she was steady on her heels again and looked out towards the cheering crowd. She could see a few familiar faces that weren’t nearly as pleased as the rest of them, but she could hardly blame them. One of those faces was Denahi. She knew how he felt about her new husband, and she’d have to spend some time assuring that everything was fine. She’d hoped that he’d be too distracted with his rooming situation to be bothered by this, but that had been too much to ask for. If anything, she had a feeling it would amplify his disapproval with the whole thing. As they exited the church, Fiona reached out and squeezed his shoulder, her face showing no hint of her previous hesitation.

This was a new chapter. Maybe it would be better now. If she could convince herself, she could convince anyone.

#fhogself #para:closed #para:wedding bells #para:grace #para:denahi #para:shang

[mersoldsoul]

Silly Games || Self

After that visit over spring break, Mer hadn’t heard anything from her father for weeks. It wasn’t like she expected him to immediately jump into being some kind of model father or reaching out to her or anything like that. But she had still expected some kind of contact. After all, he was the one who had disappeared due to his bad decisions. He was the one who was reaching out now. But the continued silence had her wondering and questioning all over again. Did he actually want to be around her after all? Or was it only when it was convenient to him?

Stupid. Stupid to start to get her hopes up. After all, it wasn’t like she knew anything about him. Just the version of the story he told.

Although…checking up on him might not be hard. She might not know her father’s last name, but there had to be a record of it somewhere. A marriage license, information connected to her mother, letters, something. Once she knew that, she could search for information on him personally. If he had ended up with a bad crowd, there was bound to be something about what they got up to. That would at least tell her what his definition of ‘bad’ was, and how long ago he’d left them behind. It might not be a lot, but it would be something.

Several days letter, she finally received a letter.

Dear Merry,

A little bird told me that you were interested in finance and stock investments. I thought you might like this book. It’s a little more detailed than the ones you can usually find.

Love,    Dad

Mer opened up the wrapped parcel that came with it and her mouth dropped open in shock. It was the Fundamentals of Investments from McGraw-Hill Education. It was regarded as one of the best introductory books, and it was also several hundred dollars. It was the kind of book that the books she’d been reading referenced as a source, but it was beyond what most libraries cared to stock. And it was now here. It was hers. Because Kyle-her father – had given it to her. Just because he’d heard she was interested.

For the moment, she was so blown away, she couldn’t even begin to think about who might have told him that she was interested. Instead, she immediately began to read.

Mer hadn’t wanted to tell her sisters what she was up to. For some reason, he still hadn’t reached out to the two of them, but he’d said he wanted to introduce himself in his own time, so she couldn’t very well spoil it. But she also knew them well enough to be fairly certain that they wouldn’t approve of her suspicious nature or the way she was going about solving the problem. So, until she had some sort of sign that her suspicions were proved, she was going to keep this little research project to herself.

Instead, she’d told them that she was planning on cleaning the attic. Once again, it wasn’t a lie because it was about time that attic got cleared out so they could use it for something else. Or at least, it could use a good dusting, and Mer rarely gave that the time it deserved. So, she would get some cleaning done. And if at the same time, she happened to come across some old piece of documentation or a packet of letters conveniently wrapped, well. That was just good luck wasn’t it?

Mer pushed open the door into the attic. “Oh dear.”

This was going to be a bigger job than she’d thought.

In the wake of their mother’s death, there had been a lot the girls just weren’t able to handle. Over time, Mer had tracked down most of the relevant financial information, but the rest had been shoved into boxes to be ‘dealt with later’. Which meant that all of her mother’s work related papers, all of her personal correspondence, all of her family heirlooms and ancient photo albums, all of it had ended up here. How was Mer supposed to sort through it all?

Well. No time like the present to begin. If she could simply identify what each box was and sort it into piles, it would make it easier to find exactly what she was looking for. But this wasn’t going to be a one day job after all.

Dear Kyle,

Why haven’t you spoken to Flora or Fauna yet? I don’t like keeping secrets from them, and this is something they deserve to know too.

Meredith

Little Merry,

I know, I do need to talk to them. And I will soon, I promise. Did you like the book?

Love,    Dad

Kyle,

I did, it was incredibly informative. This second time through, I’m trying to make more detailed notes so I can try and solidify the connections between the material in my mind. It makes for a nice break from summer homework.

Meredith

Little Merry One,

That’s excellent! I know I have a lot to make up for with how long I was out of your life, so I hope this was a start. Hey, why don’t we play a game? Each time I write to you, I’ll try to change something about my handwriting. You try and figure out what it is and copy it in your letter back to me. It’ll give these a little more personality right?

Love,    Dad

Kyle,

I suppose it sounds interesting. I’ve never tried that before, but I don’t mind the intellectual challenge. How did you think of this?

Meredith

My Merry One,

It’s a game a few of my friends and I play with each other. Eventually we got to the point where we could make every letter look like it was written by a different person. We’d even come up with signatures for that sort of handwriting.

Love,    Dad

Kyle,

Your friends sound like interesting people. How is this first attempt?

Meredith

Mer found herself saving each of her father’s letters. Sometimes, she would reread them, just to see if she could catch glimpses of the person her mother had fallen so deeply in love with. They hadn’t met again in person since that first time. Apparently he was traveling for work and he couldn’t risk leaving things where they were. (When she’d asked him what that work was, he’d been vague, which seemed strange. Why wouldn’t he tell her about that? It was such a simple thing after all.)

But the letters had continued frequently, becoming more and more detailed about nearly everything else. He asked about her work in the auror office, and he seemed genuinely interested in the stories she had to tell about the famous Andrew Gardner and the young determined Violet Parr. He’d suggested a few cleaning spells for ink spells she’d never heard of, and she was planning on trying them as soon as the summer finished. Sometimes, it felt like she could hear the laughter through the text.

He asked about school and he seemed genuinely impressed at her maintaining such high grades on top of being a prefect and a Quidditch captain. He admitted that back in his school days, he hadn’t been either. More of a day dreamer, he’d gotten by in his classes, but he’d spent much more time making friends outside instead of participating in any one team activity. With a forced casualness and a jittery stomach, Mer said that if he was interested in seeing her play, she could tell him when that would be. In his response, he sounded delighted.

In a strange way, the thing she was the most closed mouth about was her home. Oh, she would share stories about her sisters, what they were like, how they lived together, what fun they had. But even rereading the letters before she sent them, she knew they were incomplete. She never spoke about Flora’s drinking problem, how sometimes she would run away, or how she’d been unable to manage the family finances. She never spoke about Fauna’s dreaminess, her inability to finish any task, and the way she had scraped through graduation. Instead, she ended up giving him the same vision of their life she gave the social worker. She wasn’t sure exactly why. Maybe because she wanted him to see her sister’s the way she saw them, the way they could be. He could learn the truth for himself.

He never spoke about the years he had spent away from their family. Occasionally, he would make a sort of veiled illusion to it, but it was never enough for her to understand what had actually happened with him. What kind of trouble had he been in? What were these friends like? Of course, she’d been looking herself, which she hadn’t told him. But that didn’t meant that part of her hadn’t been hoping that he would finally find a way to tell her himself. Every time she would try and follow up on one of his hints or ask a more direct question, he would ignore it or redirect it. As curious as he was about her, he was still such a closed book.

Sometimes, reading the letters felt a bit strange. After all, each week, the handwriting he used drifted farther and farther from his own true handwriting as they continued to play this game he had mentioned. Once or twice, the handwriting would stay the exact same if Mer hadn’t been able to copy it exactly the way he wanted her to. But the next week, it would change again as he would add some new twist. Already, comparing the first letter to the most recent letter was like looking at the work of a stranger.

Still, she knew who had written it. She could see the signature. So what did it matter if it didn’t look the way she was used to looking? It was a harmless enough game, and it seemed to make him happy as she figured out each new challenge he gave her and perfected it. So she wouldn’t say anything. She would keep going.

Just for a little while longer though. Of course.

Kyle Reed. His name was Kyle Reed. It had taken days of sorting, organizing, and reading through papers, but she had finally found it. In a box buried far at the back, she had found all the paper information related to her father. It seemed a little strange to her that there would be only a single box related to him, what with the deep passionate way her mother loved and the sheer number of letters her father clearly enjoyed writing. Then again, with how well the box had been hidden, it was clear her mother hadn’t wanted to hold on to took many of the details from her life with the man who walked away.

There hadn’t been any kind of marriage certificate inside that box, which was really what she had been hoping for. Instead, there were pictures, a few trinkets that clearly looked like lover’s tokens her mother hadn’t had the heart to discard, and a few letters. It was on the address envelope for one of those letters that she finally found the name she had been looking for for so long.

It was a slightly unassuming name. Such an odd fit for a man who even in his letters came across as larger than life. But names carried weight. They linked us to our past and sometimes served to shape their future.

Quietly, in the safety of the attic, Mer tried out the sound of the person she could have been. “Meredith Reed.” It sounded…off. Unfinished. As if the person she would be with that name was smaller than the one she was now, with less to hold onto.

Of course, that was entirely a mark of her own fancy. Really.  She had clearly been spending far too much time by herself in the attic if she was starting to make wild leaps like that on the basis of saying a name outside once. Reed was a perfectly decent last name, and she had no business going around judging it. It wasn’t like he had any choice in the matter over what family he came from and what name he decided to use.

But now that she knew the name, she could find out the other information she wanted to know. It was time to find out the truth about Kyle Reed. Maybe, finally, she would begin to understand the holes in her past. Maybe she would finally be able to figure out if she could trust the man who had started to work his way back into her heart, almost in spite of herself. If he wasn’t going to tell her, she would find out on her own. And after that, if he still hadn’t talked to Flora and Fauna, she would take the choice out of his hands.

If she had the truth, they deserved it too.

My Little Merry One,

I’m going to be in Hogsmeade on Thursday. Do you think we could meet again? I miss seeing you in person. Letters are good, but they aren’t the same.”

Love,   Dad

Dear Kyle,

I only work a half day on Thursday so I could meet with you in the afternoon if that works for you. Do you want to meet in the Three Broomsticks?

From,    Meredith

My Little Merry One,

Why don’t we meet in the park and take a walk? I’ve been cramped up inside for days and I’d like to be out in the fresh air. Besides, you’ll be back in school soon which means long days in the classrooms and the library. Let’s take advantage of it! Run wild and free while we still have time!

Love,    Dad

Dear Kyle,

You’re ridiculous. Fine, fine, the park it is. It’s supposed to be a beautiful day that day anyway so we might as well take advantage of it.

From,    Meredith

My Little Merry One,

Perfect! Then I will see you then. Around 2:00? I have some big news to talk to you about. Don’t ask me about it, I don’t want to spoil the surprise. But I can’t wait! Take care of yourself sweetheart.

Love,    Dad

Dear Kyle,

I’ll see you then.

From,    Meredith

#self #fhogself #this is kind of a summary of what's been going on with her over the summer

[fairladymarian]

I’m Not a Stranger, No I Am Yours || Self

As soon as May slipped inside her house, Lorna appeared, as if she had been waiting for May to be appear. Probably she had. It was later than she normally tried to be home, and the other staff were bound to worry about her. She really should have owled to let them know what was going on. She wasn’t sure exactly why she didn’t.

“Good evening ma’am.” The words were polite, but Lorna didn’t bother to hide the reproach in them. Despite her deep exhaustion, May smiled slightly.

“Good evening Lorna. I’m sorry I missed dinner.”

“Mrs. Reeves has kept a plate warm for you.”

Of course she had. The Marian cook was dependably as the sunrise, and she would never risk anyone in this household going hungry. No matter how picky the guest, no matter the time of day, no matter what calamity befell the rest of the world, Nora  Reeves would see that everyone who entered this house left it full and satisfied. “Has my father eaten already?”

“Yes ma’am.”

May wasn’t sure if she should acknowledge the slight relief she felt at that. If he had already eaten, that meant she didn’t feel obliged to share her own meal with him. Of course she ate with him when she was home for meals, but as time got on, it became easier and easier to come up with reasons to stay a little bit longer at the office so she wouldn’t have to. It was hard enough seeing him the way he was these days. Trying to do something as normal as share a meal with him, something that used to be an incredibly special gift, was a little harder than she could handle at the moment.

But she didn’t really want to be alone either. “I guess I’ll have to see if Mrs. Reeves will let me sneak into the kitchen to enjoy it as an apology before going up to see him. How was he today?”

“The same as always.”

The reply was short, but it was all she needed to know. Mrs. McKendrick would have put on a brave face, saying something optimistic about how she saw some improvement. Bunter would have been impassive and said he was doing well, with no qualifiers. Many of the other servants would have made some kind of quiet comment about not seeing him enough to be sure as they had been taking care of their other duties. But wonderful Lorna knew that what May wanted most was the truth. And the truth was that in the months since the trial, nothing had changed. He hadn’t gotten any better. He’d just stayed.

“Very well. Thank you Lorna.”

Lorna nodded slightly and faded back, off to continue her duties and to leave May to hers. Part of May wished she could ask Lorna to stay. To sit with her as she ate, gossip with her, laugh like they had when they’d been children who didn’t have so many expectations layered on them until it was hard to separate who they were from what they were expected to do. But it would have been selfish. Lorna had already put in a long day, and now that May was home, she would have to finish preparing for May to retire. The other woman needed her sleep. At least one of them should get a little. May already knew she wouldn’t.

Down in the kitchens, May did her best to do justice to the shepherd’s pie Nora had made for her. She knew it was the woman’s way of trying to provide as much nutrition and comfort as she could, but May was still only able to eat half of it. It was delicious. But her appetite was still nonexistent. Briefly, she wished that she had some pet, like a dog, that she could feed under the table to hide how much she had left on her plate. Then, as she had so often before, she brushed the thought aside.

May tried to pretend that she didn’t see the concerned disappointment on the cook’s face at her partially full plate as she excused herself. As she did every day, she promised herself that tomorrow she would really finish a full serving of whatever Nora gave her. She was sure to be hungrier tomorrow.

But now, she had to face her father.

As she mounted the stairs, May could feel her stomach beginning to tie itself into knots. It shouldn’t be this way. She loved her father. She loved him more than anyone else in the world. He had taught her everything she knew about flying, broommaking, poker, and the power of a boundless love. Many of her brightest memories were of the days she spent with him as he combined learning and play to remind her that while she was the Marian heir, she was still allowed to be a child. After her mother’s death, he had become almost her entire world, and she had done whatever she could to help him to try and make him proud.

When he’d gone missing, she’d felt like she was drowning every day in the loss and the loneliness. Maybe the not knowing had been the worst. Not knowing meant that hope could grow like a vine, choking out everything else and narrowing her focus to a deep and desperate prayer. She had lied, wept, sacrificed, all in order to preserve the legacy he had left her to protect even as she insisted she was only borrowing it for a little while. It had become hers and yet wasn’t hers at all because she had always assumed it would be a temporary stop gap. It was just supposed to be until he came home.

Now, there was a small treacherous part of her that wondered if their current situation was really any better.

May rapped loudly at the door of the library before slowly easing it open. It had only taken two days for the entire household to realize the wisdom of approaching this man slowly and loudly. Any action that could be construed as an attack would be met with a swift and vicious curse. Wherever he’d been for the last few years, whatever he’d been doing, the one thing that had been trained above all else had been his fighting instinct. She could only be grateful that no one had been killed before they had figured that out.

“Good evening Father. I’m home.” May had pulled together something like her usual smile. Of course, anyone who knew her well would see through it in a minute. Her father should. But the man in front of her didn’t.

He didn’t respond to her statement, merely looking up from the book he was reading at the moment. He wasn’t sitting in his usual chair in the library. Instead, he was sitting in the chair that had always been used by her uncle. It was a little thing. A stupid thing. But it bothered her and gave her heart another painful twist.

“I’m sorry I’m late. I had planned to be home earlier, but at the last minute one of the researchers asked if there was time to meet with me. Do you remember Phil Wallace? You hired him away from Comet because they were paying him peanuts for the genius work he was doing for them? He’s been the researcher most supportive of my idea of brooms specialized for specific aspects of the game, and he’s been working incredibly hard on my idea for a keeper’s broom. The seeker broom has already left research and is going into preliminary production, so soon we’ll be able to start seriously promoting our friendly advertising game.”

She paused, hoping that this time, this time, something she’d said would reach him and she would see the light of recognition in his eyes. But there was nothing.

“I was thinking of having Mulan test the first keeper’s broom. After all, as a B string player on the Harpies, no one can say that we’re giving the team an undue competitive advantage in real matches, and the stability we’re building into the keeper’s broom could also help when she’s acting as a TA or a referee. What do you think?”

Nothing. It was like talking to a brick wall. Just one that had her father’s face.

Desperately, May cast around for another topic. Every day it was the same. She came in here, she tried to speak with him, to tell him stories or talk with him like this was normally. Every day she hoped that something she would say would spark the necessary connection to help him through off the curse that held him captive. Something had to be the key that would cause the light to kindle in his eyes. Something had to make him smile at her in the way he always had before. Something had to help him remember. But for now, all she had was this stranger who wore her father’s face staring back.

“Did you look at the photo albums I left out?” One look at them was enough to be sure that he hadn’t. They were still placed exactly as she’d left them the night before. Now seemed as good a time as any to go through them. Maybe they would be what worked.

She had only tried showing him pictures once before. Those had mostly been recent pictures from the years after she’d gone to Hogwarts. Dinners, poker games, summer fete after summer fete, family Christmas, and Saturdays spent bent over his workbench together as he pointed out some new aspect of broommaking she hadn’t known before. Pictures of him with the servants, pictures with his coworkers, pictures with his friends. Each picture was increasingly bittersweet as the figures in the photos smiled and waved up at the two of them. In those pictures, her father looked more alive than he did sitting right next to her.

But this time, she had reached for the older photo albums. The ones she hadn’t been sure she was strong enough to go through. The last thing she could think to try.

As she opened the album, her breath caught slightly. It was the picture from her parents wedding day. He wore his nicest black suit, and somehow he’d found a vest that perfectly matched her hair. She wore an elegant white wedding gown, a slim column that still managed to subtly sparkle on the page. Her hair was sept up in a series of elaborate curls that looked like the pin was holding onto them entirely through magic. It looked exactly like what it was. The wedding of the rich and powerful. And yet, the couple on the page barely glanced up to see who might be looking at the picture. They never left. They barely took their eyes off each other, because in that moment, they were each other’s whole world. Even the creation of this memory was incidental to the fact that they were now married to each other.

She glanced up at her father, hoping to see some kind of glimmer in his eyes. After all, how could there not be? She had been the light of his life, his love for forever and a day, his inspiration to change, his muse, his everything. That kind of love had to leave a mark deep in your soul. How could he not respond to that?

But she couldn’t even begin to see mild curiosity there. As she turned each page, she tried to narrate what was happening in the picture, waiting, waiting for the curse to break. He had taken this picture of May and her mother as she had accidentally flown into her mother and knocked the woman down. This picture was from Christmas when May was 5, and her father had actually taken time off so the family could go on vacation. This picture was the three of them laying around in the library and reading their individual books. This picture May had taken when her parents weren’t paying attention and it captured the loving looks in their eyes. This picture was May’s first formal gathering as a Marian with them. This was the last picture taken before her mother died.

As she reached the end of the album, she closed it, hoping that maybe she was wrong and it had worked after all. But there was nothing. He looked at her for a moment before dismissing her and picking up the book he had been reading. Almost without realizing it, she glanced over to see what had captured his attention. What did this stranger want to read when given the chance.

It only took her a moment to recognize the poem.

From childhood’s hour I have not been As others were—I have not seen As others saw—I could not bring My passions from a common spring— From the same source I have not taken My sorrow—I could not awaken My heart to joy at the same tone— And all I lov’d—I lov’d alone—

As soon as she made it to that line, she stood and fled the room. All I loved I loved alone. The words echoed in her head as she made her way back to her own room. She had only just made it inside when she collapsed on the floor, curling up into a ball and shuddering violently.

What could she do? Why did nothing work? Why didn’t her father remember her? She had him back in body, but seeing him like this, empty of everything that made him the person she loved and worshipped…how was she supposed to cope?

Why wasn’t the memories of her mother enough? Why wasn’t she enough?

When her father looked at her now, there wasn’t the slightest glimmer of recognition. She wanted to grab him, shake him, scream in his face, STOP LOOKING AT ME LIKE I’M SOME STRANGER! I’M YOUR DAUGHTER! I’M YOURS! But she didn’t. Because good, kind, strong, compassionate May Marian who always kept herself together under pressure wouldn’t do that. The daughter he remembered wouldn’t do that. But did it matter? He didn’t remember his daughter. She could be anyone to him. She was no one.

She bit her lip, trying to hold back the tears, but that didn’t work. Hard sobs wracked her body, tears streaming down her face as her heart shattered yet again. She hadn’t thought there had been enough of it left to break. But somehow, there was always more. More disappointment. More hurt. More realization that the person she was was not, and could never be, right for the people she loved.

She loved. But she loved alone.

#self #fhogself

[thatch-loose-lipped-linguist]

Happiest of Days (self-para)

As the clock struck down to midnight, August 3 became August 4.  Milo had already set out a small treacle tart he had gotten from the Three Broomsticks and set a little candle on the center.

Fluffy jumped onto the table and languidly strolled past, curious at the set up.  “Another year has gone by, Fluffy,” Milo chuckled as he put his cat on the head.  With a flick of his wand, the candle lit with a tiny flame.

There wasn’t much Milo wished for, if any.  He was in a good place in his life, especially for someone who was only 32, now 33.  He had a wonderful job teaching his passions, he had a lovely feline companion, he was being commissioned by the Ministry for his expert skills.  Life was pretty good.  Certainly, he’d have liked to have family with him.  His grandfather had long since past away, and his parents disappeared many years ago.  And yet, Milo wouldn’t call himself lonely.  He got by.

Though Milo had been working hard all summer to move into his new place in Hogsmeade, catch up on translating the pieces for the Ministry, and set up the upcoming course schedules for the new school year, today he took time to himself.  It wasn’t everyday that he celebrated his birthday.  And by celebrating, Milo simply caught up on reading his favorite books, cooked himself a nice meal, and spent time with his cat.

“What should we wish for, Fluffy?” he asked.  The flame flickered as the cat gazed off onto something much more interesting, whatever that may be.  “You’re right.  We are pretty fortunate as it is.”  He smiled and blew out the candle.

#happiest of days #self #fhogself #a little birthday para for milo #super short read

[small-turtle-bro-blog]

The Sorting

This was it.  

This was the moment that Sheldon had been waiting for since he received his letter from Hogwarts.  The young first year couldn’t believe his eyes as he watched other fellow first years walk up to the small stool and put the sorting hat on their heads.  How did the hat know what house they were going to be in?  Was the hat able to read their minds?  Or was the hat some giant parasite that slowly sucked the life source out of everyone?  Sheldon quickly shook his head at his last thought.  He really shouldn’t have watched scary movies the night before he got on the train to Hogwarts.  He needed to focus.  

As the hat spoke to itself while atop the head of a young blonde girl’s head Sheldon stared at it.  Maybe if he stared long enough he’d be able to learn how to read lips… if the hat really had lips.  The hat’s mouth looked more like the mouth of a sock puppet.  So the real question was did sock puppets have lips?  Or was there a different name for them?  To him sock puppets always seemed to look like they had beaks, so did the hat basically have a beak?  Was Sheldon actually learning how to read beaks?

“SLYTHERIN”  Sheldon nearly jumped out of his own skin when the hat loudly yelled through the hall.  He hoped that the hat wouldn’t be THAT loud when he was up there.  

As the girl excitedly ran over to the other slytherins who seemed to be cheering as if they just won some kind of award.  A young boy was called up to the hat.  But as soon as the hat touched a single hair on the boy’s head it loudly yelled, “HUFFLEPUFF!”  Sheldon’s jaw instantly dropped.  How did the hat know?  Why did it take the hat to figure out the slytherin girl’s house longer than this boy?  Did the hat already know the houses the students belonged in before they even came to Hogwarts?  Did the Hat have a list or something?  

The other kids that went up after the Hufflepuff boy seemed to have blurred together.  Most taking around the same time to get sorted.  Even though the hat seemed fairly quick with its sorting Sheldon’s legs were getting extremely tired.  He actually hoped to get called upon so he could finally sit down, granted that he’d most likely be sitting there for a few moments.

“Sheldon Tuttle.”  

Once Sheldon heard his name get called he froze a little.  For some reason he felt a pit begin to grow inside his stomach and it only began to grow as he felt the eyes of a few first years staring right at him.  Slowly the dark haired boy made his way to the chair, but as he slowly walked Sheldon only felt himself grow more worried with each step.  He instantly felt the need to turn around and run, but it was too late for that.  

As the boy sat down and the hat got put on his head he felt his heart skip a beat, hopefully this would be quick, Sheldon was already not a fan of having a weird magical hat on his head.  

“Tricky… Very tricky this one is.”  The hat mumbled as a bewildered sheldon stared up at the hat.

“Tricky?!” Sheldon whispered confusedly, as he continued staring at the hat.  If he could remember correctly none of the houses had a ‘tricky’ personality trait… unless maybe he forgot, he really only cared about the colors of the houses, which all seemed pretty cool to him.

“Yes tricky!.... You have a little bit of bravery in you….”  The hat snapped as it continued talking to himself as Sheldon warily stared up at the hat..

“Then put me in the lion gang then.”  Sheldon whispered as he turned his gaze back at the hall.  He didn’t know how long he’d been sitting there but by the looks of the students it was probably longer than five minutes.

“But not brave enough… Not many ambitions, not that cunning either.”  As the hat continued talking to itself Sheldon slowly began to stare off into space, this was starting to become quite boring.  And here he thought that this was going to be quick.  Why was it even taking so long any way?  Maybe the hat got broken in the the time between him and the last student.

More minutes passed, making Sheldon regret even coming.  His bottom was falling asleep and the hat was honestly quite rude, often saying that he didn’t have enough of something to perfectly match into said house.  Due to this Sheldon began ignoring everything the hat was saying, it was more entertaining watching the students nearly pass out from boredom than listen to this hat ramble on.

“Why is this taking so long?”  Sheldon whispered mainly to himself, but the hat clearly heard.

“Asking questions like that will only make this take longer.” The hat snapped back as it continued huffing and puffing about which house he should be in.  

“No patience either and barely any optimism, obviously not a Hufflepuff.” When the hat continued on its little tangent Sheldon boredly sighed, he thought that this would have been more fun.  

“Can we take a break?  This stool isn’t comfortable and my butt is falling asleep.”  Sheldon asked after what felt like ages of silence.  

“Maybe Ravenclaw… You ask a lot of questions, but not much intelligence behind them.”  Sheldon only groaned at that comment, he couldn’t have nothing that fit into a house.  That’d be impossible.

“Tuttle…. Hmmm Tuttle I know that name.  I sorted your father didn’t I?”  At that question Sheldon vigorously nodded his head, nearly throwing the sorting hat onto the ground.

“Yes, I remember he was a ravenclaw.  And a very bright one as well.”  Sheldon listened to the hat he remembered his father talking about being in ravenclaw.  

“That’s the blue one right?” Sheldon asked

“Being the son of a ravenclaw I’d think that you’d study at least little bit.”  The hat commented causing Sheldon to shrug.  “Studying is boring though.”

“You’re not being very helpful with this kid.”  The sorting hat grumbled.  

“Well to help you; I do like the color blue.”  Sheldon said innocently, he liked blue.  The color reminded him of the ocean and he liked the ocean.  Or was the ocean more of a greenish blue?  Well whatever the color was he still liked the color blue.  

“Just because of that I think that I might sort you into Hufflepuff.”

“Ok, but I don’t like the color yellow.  That’s the color of the sun, and when I look at the sun my eyes begin to hurt.  Yellow is a mean color.”

After that the hat fell silent.  Did sheldon just hurt the hat’s feelings?  Was the hat’s favorite color yellow?  Did he really just insult a hat?!  

For what felt like ages of silence yet again Sheldon’s restlessness only began to grow more and more.  And to tell the truth he really had to go to the bathroom.  This already was embarrassing enough, he didn’t want this to get any worse.

“Well you’re father is a ravenclaw…. Maybe if you get sorted into that house you’ll do something  impressive.  If not the competition might actually drive you to want to do something at least good.”  Sheldon honestly didn’t really care at this point.  He was tired, he had to go to the bathroom, and he didn’t want this hat to be on his stupid head any longer.

“Well Mr. Hat guy, do whatever you want to do.”  Sheldon drowsily replied with a shrug.

“See comments like those really make me want to take back my decision.”  

“Com’on I’m tireeed! I realllyyyyy need to pee!”  Sheldon groaned not fully understanding how important getting sorted really was.

“Fine!  But just know that at the moment you are not intelligent nor quick thinking enough for this house at the moment… only you can change that, unless you want to feel like the dumb one surrounded by geniuses… The real reason why you’re even being sorted into this house is your father.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah whate-”

“RAVENCLAW”

Sheldon blinked in surprise when the hat cut him off.  He honestly couldn’t believe that the hat finally came up with a decision.  For a moment the hall was silent, almost as if the students couldn’t believe that it was finally over.  But soon the hall erupted into applause,  but it wasn’t only the ravenclaw table that was clapping, it seemed like the other houses were clapping mainly due to it finally being over with.  Once the hat was lifted off of his head Sheldon slowly got up and began to rush towards the Ravenclaw tables.  He probably shouldn’t have rushed due to nearly falling on his face halfway through walking to them.  But it didn’t seem like that many people seemed to notice.

When he got to the table he was greeted by a crowd of older ravenclaws congratulating him and cheering for him.  As much as he wanted to celebrate with them, there was still one thing he had to do.  

“Excuse me!  I have a very important question!”  Sheldon yelled loud enough for most of the celebrating students around him would fall silent.  

“WHERE ARE THE BATHROOMS?!”

Once Sheldon very loudly asked where the bathrooms were a few ravenclaws confusedly looked at him, until one of them pointed in the direction.  Sheldon couldn’t even say thank you; all he could do was begin sprinting towards the bathroom.  The newly appointed ravenclaw should have been thinking about more important things such as how he didn’t actually fit into a house, but the worrying could wait.  He really had to go to the bathroom.  Besides he had seven more years of identity crises to face, which could obviously wait till after he went to the bathroom.

#Flashback #Selfie #this is how it all began haha #fhogself

[la-belle-novaturient]

I’ll Do Anything || Self

When Belle had received the letter from ‘Chrissy’, she had been surprised. As much as she trusted Maui, it was difficult to believe that the people he worked for would be interested in helping her just because he asked. What was in this for them? Why would they bother going to so much trouble over a problem that had no national significance, but only significance to her? It seemed so strange. Belle couldn’t help looking at the proposal from every angle, trying to find what the hidden catch might be.

But there was never a question of going. First of all, Chrissy worked in the Department of Mysteries apparently, a place Belle had always wanted to see. Secondly, and far more importantly, if there was the slightest chance that these people could help bring her father home safe and sound, she wasn’t going to risk throwing that aside. She would do whatever it took to bring him home. After all, hadn’t she made a deal with the devil once to protect him? Whatever was coming couldn’t be worse than what had already happened.

Belle had begged off from work, claiming that she was too ill to be around the customers. Luckily, she hadn’t ever done that before, so no one was suspicious of her answer. It helped that Peggy was the one who responded to her owl. She was by far the most sympathetic, which made her the best person to speak to. Belle had the day to herself.

There was a certain thrill to skipping out on work to go on her own mini adventure. If the reasons weren’t so dire, she could have given herself over to the pleasure completely. As it was, she didn’t bother to take the train, and instead used floo powder to go straight to the Ministry itself.

As soon as she arrived, she stepped out of the massive glittering fireplace and into an almost overwhelming chaos. People rushed past her in every direction, all of them looking like they were late to get somewhere, while paper airplanes zipped by overhead. The massive row of fireplaces kept flaring green as more people stepped in and out, and Belle found herself shoved to the side by someone coming in behind her.

Standing there, dressed in her usual everyday clothes, Belle felt small, underdressed, and unimportant. For a moment, she felt her breath beginning to come faster as her heart began to pound harder and harder. What was she doing here? Who was she to ask one of these busy glamorous people for help when she was still no one at all? Why did she think she could do this? But even as she thought about taking a step backwards away from all this, the image of her father’s sick and exhausted frame flashed through her mind. No. This was for him. She could do this. Taking a deep breath, she squared her shoulders and strode forward into the crowd as if she belonged. If she was clutching her purse a little too tightly, no one else had to know but her.

A little ways in front of her, Belle could see an elaborate gold desk with ‘Information’ carved into a sign sitting on top in an elaborate script. A severe and professional looking woman sat behind the desk, looking industrious and as if she didn’t want to be disturbed in the slightest. Oh well.

“Excuse me, I have an appointment with Chrissy from the Department of Mysteries.”

When Belle first began to speak, the woman didn’t bother to look up from whatever she was writing. But as soon as Belle mentioned the name, she looked up sharply, laying her quill aside. “Name?”

“Belle Moore.”

She looked down for a moment, but if there was any sort of list she was examining, Belle couldn’t see it. Still, a moment later she looked up. “Yes, she is expecting you. Take the elevator down to Level 9. Then continue straight forward to enter the Department proper. Once inside, do not move. Ms. Nickles will come get you from there.”

“Thank you.”

Feeling slightly unsettled by the exchange in a way she couldn’t explain, Belle nevertheless followed the woman’s instructions. When she entered the elevator and pushed the button for ‘Level 9’, several of the other witches and wizards gave her a small look before edging away slightly. Still, that wasn’t as unusual as would be expected, so Belle paid no attention to it. The elevator dropped everyone else off before finally going back down to Level 9. The Department of Mysteries.

The elevator door opened to reveal black tiled walls that had no windows. At the end of the corridor was a single plain black door, which, presumably, led to the Department of Mysteries. She could see a small flight of stairs off to her left, but as the woman at the information desk hadn’t mentioned it, she ignored those. Instead, she walked straight forward as quickly as possible, heels echoing uncomfortably loudly on the walls around her, and opened the door.

On the other side, there was a round room with several doors, but there was still no color to be seen. None of the doors looked to be marked either. Belle let the door she’d come in through swing shut, planning to walk across and try the first door she could, when she paused. Wasn’t she supposed to wait? Just as she had that thought, the room began to spin around her. Belle was so surprised, she didn’t think to try and mark any of the doors until it was too late. She had no idea which one she’d come in at. And she had no idea where she was supposed to go. She was stuck.

What should she do? Call out for help? But there was no guarantee they would hear her, and the whispered stories spread about the Unspeakables made her hesitant to draw their attention. Try to cast a locator spell? Except clearly this room was designed to disorient you, which meant that spell probably wouldn’t work either. Of course, Chrissy knew she was coming, so it was probably better to wait. But how long was it reasonable to wait? What if she was trapped here for hours? Why didn’t she tell anyone else where she was going? What if-

A door off to her right opened, and Belle whipped her head around to stare at the person who came through. A woman who looked to be a little older than her and about her own height came forward, smiling broadly. Her hair was light pink near the roots, and slowly darkened to a rich purple by the time it reached her tips. There was also something about her face that simultaneously captured Belle’s fascination and set her on edge, although she couldn’t point to exactly what it was. All she knew was that this woman looked more unique than anyone she had ever met in her life.

“You must be Belle! Come on back to my office, this place isn’t comfortable for any sort of meetings and my colleagues can be a little grumpy about strangers sometimes.” Her voice was upbeat and personable, softening the strange perception and making her seem more human. Belle couldn’t have said why, but she found herself relaxing slightly. Behind her, the room had begun to spin again, and they were once again faced with the series of identical doors. But Chrissy didn’t hesitate and walked to a doorway approximately five doors away from the one she’d entered at.

“How do you know which door to go to?”

Chrissy grinned and winked at Belle, tapping her lips. “It’s a secret. Maybe if we can steal you into our office at some point we’ll be able to tell you. Otherwise, you just have to trust me. Welcome to the Thought Room.”

As Chrissy pulled open the door, she revealed a long and rectangular chamber, lit by lamps hanging low on golden chains from the ceiling. The room was mostly empty except for a few desks surrounding an enormous glass tank of green liquid. Inside the tank, a number of pearly-white brains drifted around. Belle was both repulsed and fascinated by the sight of the brains floating around. Was that really what was on the inside of her head?

“It’s a little trippy to look at isn’t it? Still, we’re not here to talk about my work. We’re here to talk about you. So, what can you tell me about your father?”

Belle had hundreds of questions on the tip of her tongue. What exactly did Chrissy work on? Why were there brains floating here? Where were the other Unspeakables for this department? Why was it called the Thought Room? Why was the Ministry studying thought in the first place? But the mention of her father brought her back and refocused her. This woman promised her help. And time was running out.

“My father has never been particularly good with money. Recently, he ended up in serious debt trying to finance one of his newest inventions. The local Hogsmeade bookseller Mr. Dubois purchased the debt, and told the two of us that he would not declare us bankrupt if I worked the debt off in his bookshop. Of course, I agreed. I have now worked there for a full two years. In that time, Mr. Dubois’s son has shown an increasing amount of interest in me. As I don’t return his interest, I’ve given him no encouragement. However, each time I refuse him, Mr. Dubois adds something to my workload to make it clear he is displeased with my response.

“A year ago, my father was told that he would have one chance to help lighten my workload and earn some of the money himself. The only problem was that he would need to leave immediately, and he wouldn’t be able to write me while he was ‘learning how to properly manage funds and earn wages as well’. I was certain it was a scam, but all of my attempts to contact him failed. So all I could do is wait.

“However, on my birthday, he sent me a letter and a rose. The letter made it clear that he took a huge risk doing that. Maui did some feat of magic that should have been impossible, but it allowed us to see where my father is. Right now, he’s trapped in some awful work camp on the outskirts of Villenueve-Loubet, France. And he’s dying. They’re clearly using his inventing skills for something, but the room is horribly drafty and he has a cough and I’ve never seen him look so sick in my life. If we don’t get him out of there soon, he’ll die. I won’t let that happen.

“Maui said he would ask you for help. More precisely, he wrote to the Head of Magical Security, but it sounds like you two are partners of a kind. So, will you help me? Or am I doing this on my own? Because one way or another, I will get my father back. I don’t care what I have to do.”

Throughout the speech, Chrissy stood with her eyes fixed firmly on Belle’s. She was completely still, besides giving her the occasional nod every time Belle paused in the story, as if silently urging Belle to keep talking and spill out all of the words that had been trapped inside her for so long. For some reason, it made it that much easier to talk to her until the basics of the story were spent. Then all Belle could do was wait, head tilted up defiantly as she waited for the verdict.

“What do you want?”

Belle stared at her, speechless. “What do I want? I just told you! I want my father home! I want him safe where I can look after him and he doesn’t do something stupid like this ever again! I want your help getting him out of there, or I want you to stay far out of my way, because I’ll do anything to save him.”

Chrissy nodded, although there was something in her eyes that sent a slight chill down Belle’s spine. As if something Belle had just said had been the key Chrissy had been waiting for. But as soon as that thought crossed Belle’s mind, the look was gone, and all she could see was the warm sympathy on the other woman’s face.

“I understand. But there are two ways we can do that. I’m just trying to figure out which one would be better. The first way would be for me or one of my colleagues to go fetch him out and bring him home – “

“No.” Belle interrupted instantly. Maybe it would be smarter to have the Ministry people take care of this issue. But whether or not it was smarter, it wasn’t right. “No I need to be involved in this. I need to help him. And staying in my flat twiddling my thumbs while someone else does the work doesn’t count. What is the second way?”

“Well, as you saw, Maui is able to perform some extraordinary magic now that he works with us.”

Chrissy paused, and Belle prompted quietly, “The Ministry?”

“No. Well, some of us are in the Ministry, but we’re not really the Ministry. Or not just. We’re a group of lots of different people who are trying to work for the betterment of the whole wizarding world. So, to be able to do that, a few of us have found a way to access this force that gives us an extra something to our magic. Sometimes it’s just more power, but other times, it can be a very specific skill. Either way, it makes you stronger. All you have to do in return is help out me or one of my colleagues once in awhile. If you really want to save him yourself, I can give you that as well as provide transportation for you to France. What do you say?”

Belle paused for a moment. Part of her couldn’t help being wary. This was yet another contract she was considering because her father was in trouble. ‘Helping people out’ was vague enough that they could technically ask her to do anything from make them a cup of tea to murder someone, and it would be difficult to say no the way it was currently defined. She didn’t know these people at all, she had no reason to trust them, and nothing really to offer them in return. This was most likely going to end badly for her. Why should she go along with it? Was it really worth the risk?

And yet, Maui knew and trusted these people. She’d seen a glimpse of the amazing magic he was capable of, which showed they kept their promises. And, unlike her boss, they wanted to work to make the magic world better. This wasn’t some self-interested capitalistic goal that happened to involve her. This was a chance to be part of a greater quest, to be involved in something so much bigger than her. To do something that actually mattered. Maybe their tasks would give her the chance to travel the world, just as she’d always wanted to. Anything was possible with a group who could actually do what they had promised.

More than all of that? What she had said was true. No matter what it cost her, no matter the risk, no matter the potential for regrets later on, she would do anything for her father.

“I’ll do it.”

“Really? Are you sure? I mean, you could be a huge help and do a lot of good, but I want you to join the Nihil – that’s us – because you want to, not because we trapped you into it. We’re kind of like a big family, and it hurts everyone if you come into this angry. So are you sure?”

In a weird way, Chrissy’s objection only strengthened Belle’s resolve. This wasn’t like Mr. Dubois. She cared about whether or not Belle would be happy in this. Belle’s decision actually mattered, and she had made sure the choice was firmly in Belle’s hands. The fact that she would apparently be getting a new bigger family out of it? Really just a bonus.

“I’m sure. What do I do?”

At those words, she could see a small pinprick of something begin to form in the air between her and Chrissy. At first, it looked more like a trick of the light, but it grew rapidly until there it hovered there about the size of a large beach ball. The crackling mass of energy was nearly impossible to describe, continuously shifting in colors so it looked like a small galaxy, filling the room with light even as the center itself was so dark it seemed to be pulling the rest of the light from the room into itself.

Chrissy’s voice was deeper, richer somehow, as she spoke. “Repeat after me. I will support and follow the Nihil. I will do what is needed when I am asked. I give myself to the Nihil.”

Belle took a deep breath, but her voice was strong with no hints of uncertainty when she spoke. “I will support and follow the Nihil. I will do what is needed when I am asked. I give myself to the Nihil.”

Belle thought she heard someone say, “So mote it be,” but she couldn’t be sure. In the moment she had finished speaking, one of the crackling beams shot away from the main energy mass and shot into her, hitting just under her heart. With a gasp, Belle arched backwards, head thrown to the ceiling as she absorbed the power. It was like being flooded with lightning, and but it wasn’t painful. Instead, it felt…glorious. It was a heady rush, like what she imagined love at first sight or the first hit of a new stimulant drug felt like. She had no idea how long she stood there, reveling in the power, before it faded. As soon as it did, she collapsed to the floor.

Belle was panting as if she had just run a marathon, and for some reason, she couldn’t find the strength to stand. But then, a hand appeared in front of her. She followed it up to see Chrissy’s smiling face. “Welcome to the family.”

Belle smiled in return and let herself be pulled to her feet. “Thank you. That was… wow.” Someday Belle might have words for that experience, but she didn’t have them at the moment. She was reeling too much from the simple fact of it happening.

“I know right?”

“So, does this mean I’ll have more power now? Like Maui?”

At her question, Chrissy tilted her head, as if she were thinking or listening very hard. “No, not exactly. See, the power manifests itself different based on the person and what they want. You wanted something different than Maui, so you were able to get something different.”

“Like what?” Belle remembered something vaguely about a new skill, but she still didn’t understand what that meant.

“You now have conscious control over your veela heritage.”

At the words, Belle stared at her. Her mind had gone completely blank. What? Veela heritage? She must have heard wrong, because that was ridiculous. She didn’t have any veela heritage. “What are you talking about?”

“You didn’t know?”

“No, of course I didn’t, because there’s nothing to know. I can’t be a veela.”

“Haven’t you ever felt lonely? Like you were different from the people around you? Like men were drawn to you, whether you wanted them to be or not, but women were always more uncomfortable in your presence? Have you ever felt drawn to love stories, dreaming of your own, even as you are annoyed by almost everyone who tries to become involved with you?”

Belle’s mind was reeling as Chrissy spoke. Of course, some of what she said could have been extrapolated from Belle’s story, but not all of it. And all of it was…exact. It was completely accurate for her in a way that so few things had been. So was that the answer to the question she could never understand? Why she wanted so desperately to be a part of things, and at the same time had embraced her independence because she could never fit in with the others no matter what? Was it because she hadn’t ever been entirely human after all?

Chrissy paused for a moment, but when no response was forthcoming, she kept speaking. “You’re not a full veela of course. Neither was your mother I’d say. But you do have veela blood in you, just enough to cause an effect, but not enough for you to be able to notice it without being told. This is the truth, I promise. I’m sorry, I thought you would know.”

“I…didn’t.” And this was something Belle was going to have to think a lot about. Of course, her father had always talked about how beautiful her mother was, and how much he loved her, and how she turned heads everywhere she’d gone. It had been no surprise to him that Belle had been able to do the same. Was it because he had known all along? And if he had, why didn’t he tell her? And if he hadn’t, what did that mean for her parents? Did they love each other after all? Or was her father just trapped by the veela spell?

And Maui. Did this mean he didn’t actually enjoy her company? Was it just that she had accidentally attracted him to her to get what she wanted? Would she ever be able to trust herself around him again, now that she knew this was part of her?

“You said I have conscious control over it now. What does this mean?”

“Well, it’s sort of up to you. You’re going to have to find the limits of all of this. But with a little practice, I’d say you can push your veela attraction and seduction either way. You can suppress it completely so it stops affecting people, or you can push it up more strongly than you ever had the power to do naturally so you can make people do what you want for a little while. It’s up to you and how much you choose to do. With work and practice.”

With work and practice, she would be able to decide when it mattered? Well, she was intelligent and a hard worker. She would figure this out. If she couldn’t control the rest of her life, she could at least control all these parts of herself. No one would be able to take that away from her. She just had to put her mind to it.

And, if she was able to push this up, she could maybe try and distract the guards around her father and make them forget about him until she could stun them or something else. It felt like cheating, but that was fine. It would save her father, and that was exactly what she had wanted.

So she would practice. She would learn. And she would do whatever it took.

“I’m sorry you had to find out this way, but I’m glad you could find out the truth. That’s what we want. We want to make things better and help the whole world know the truth about things. I think you’ll be a really great person to help with that.”

“I’ll do my best.” Belle replied. It was a promise.

#self #fhogself #this is v plot important for belle #surprise reveal about her!

[heretohelp-clyde-blog]

Oops I did it again // Selfie

Clyde never meant to stumble on these things. Yet, somehow, the squib couldn't seem to stay out of them.

Clyde was home for the summer, and like any summer before he had his routine. It was familiar and normal and the return of the never a never-ending feeling of concern in his gut that he was wasting time. There were people that needed his help, his mother needed his help, and still, over two years later, Micheal still needed his help. The boy never seemed to have left him. That chilling last phone call and the voice mail he heard far too late. Panic had settled so deep in him it felt like a norm now. He should have told someone, but he didn't. He was a squib, what did he know about anything anyway?

Being home was like returning to his childhood. He was sleeping in the same bedroom he had been for years, he was taking care of his mother the same way he had been since he was 16, and he was back to a routine he had only when he was home. Nothing changed, but it didn't kill Clyde to be there though the panic made him think otherwise. It did kill him to think that things would never change, though. It was only nostalgia that kept him going throughout the day watching over his mom and prepping for his summer sessions. He liked summer, he saw students that were perhaps regulars, and on occasion, he saw actual adults who needed some quick help. It was a way to get extra cash, yes, but it also allowed some change in scenery as he ran his own little office from his mom's house.

Clyde went on errands for his mother now and then. She hadn't left the house much since the incident other than to go to therapy and the healers a few times a week. Clyde had officially hired a nurse to watch her, but that didn't mean he wasn't nervous to leave the house still. He just couldn't fathom the very likely chance she could die.

Clyde walked through Hogsmeade regardless, picking up groceries and some books for his mother.

Stumbling onto conversations was easy for Clyde. He was a natural listener. He was a helper. He was always in tune to his surroundings before himself, so while he was picking up a few books in Flourish and Blots, he couldn't help but be drawn to the voices that echoed through a back room.

They were hushed, as any conversation that wasn't meant to be heard by others should be. But in the back of Flourish and Blots was not secretive enough to keep Clyde away or for his ears to catch words that only peaked his interest further.

"We don't talk about those things here," A man said simply. At least it seemed like a simple request, but a voice that was surely too young to be mixed up with these things that couldn't be discussed in public piped up again.

"We need to talk about it though. You know what I saw!" It was surely a girl's voice that spoke, but the man didn't say a word before she spoke again. "How did you know I'd see that the-" She was cut off though, her words muffled. Clyde grew tense though, worried about the girl and her safety. She sounded so young.

"I told you to be quiet!" The man hissed. Just as he did, he poked his head out, and Clyde stuck his own head in the first book he saw. He needed to be blissfully unaware. He had one inconspicuous spying lesson from Calhoun, shouldn't he know how to do this? That didn't shake the feeling that Clyde surely still looked suspicious looking at healing potions to stop someone's toenail fungus.

The man stuck his head back into the room and returned to a more hushed tone. As he did though, Clyde inched over to hear better. He couldn't help but worry that the girl might be in trouble the way Mike was. Clyde was Mike's last hope and Clyde didn't even hear his call for help till long after he was gone. He was certain he would never make that mistake again. "We'll have a meeting," The man said softer now, he was whispering quickly, but his voice wasn't nearly as harsh as it was before. Maybe Clyde had thrown him off? "People don't understand right now, and that's okay. You know it's true don't you?" He asked the girl. The conversation suddenly seemed more innocent to Clyde; maybe there was nothing to worry about after all.

"Of course, but-" The girl was cut off again.

"No buts, you saw the truth, and now you'll meet others who saw there's. Someday, everyone will see it for themselves too." He sounded soft, gentle. Even Clyde wanted to trust him. He wanted truth. In this uncertainty, he had been facing recently with his mother, the students, and Mike, he would certainly give anything to see something that was true.

Clyde backed away, happy to know the girl was safe and let his guard down. Putting the book back on the shelf, Clyde left. Completely forgetting what he had come into the store for in the first place.

#When you can't write a selfie title cause you suck #selfies #fhogself #self-para #Nihil related

[eenie-meanie-mertle]

Kindergarten Boyfriend (flashback)

There was a boy I met in kindergarten He was sweet, he said that I was smart

Since her release from the hospital, Mertle felt like she was under more supervision than ever.  Malby was constantly bringing her meals, checking up on her (orders from the parents) since now the redhead refused to leave her room for more than minutes at a time.  A part of her was thankful that her parents didn’t force feed her but she wasn’t pleased by how much more food she had been ingesting.  And when she was certain no one was around, she would lock herself in her bathroom and regurgitate everything.

At four years old, Mertle was not unsightly, but in her sisters’ eyes, she really took baby fat to a whole new level.  The constant jibes at her appearance and clumsy demeanor made her cry often and go running their mother for safety.  Her mother would reassure the young girl that the sisters meant no harm.

Loads of well-to-do pureblood families were known to send their younger children off well-known and expensive day care services.  For the Edmonds, they sent their three daughters, Mary Ann (10), Maggie (7), and Mertle (4) to a long-standing, traditional, and pureblood only magical nanny service.  That’s where Mertle first met fellow pureblood and family friend’s son Blaine Connelly.

It had been a few weeks after and her parents were hosting another charity gala; this time, Mertle had no choice but to go.  At her mother’s urging, she had dressed the part, cleaned up (as best she could), and appeared presentable.  Rarely did she ever have to mingle or interact with people and that’s what she had anticipated for the evening.  But sometimes life doesn’t go according to her plan.

“Long time no see, Edmonds.”  A young, cheeky-looking boy approached her where she stood off to the side.  Blaine hadn’t changed much in personality, but he certainly was blessed by whichever puberty fairy hit him.

Mertle rolled her eyes and crossed her arms, not interested in what the boy had to say.  “Aw, come on, Mertle.  It’s been years and I get the silent treatment.  Harsh.”  He gave her playful puppy pout which only caused Mertle to grow even more annoyed with the boy.  “What, still mad about the uh little ol’ childhood incident?  Come on, we were just kids.”  He flashed an award-winning smile that did not win Mertle over whatsoever.

“Mertle and Blaine, sitting in a tree!  K-I-S-S-I-N-G!” Mary Ann sang as she skipped circles around the two kids.  While Blaine laughed, Mertle sulked as her eyes watered.  “Aw, Mertle, it’s just a joke,” the little boy continued to laugh while he tried to comfort the crying redhead.  “Come on, Mary Ann, stop teasing.”  The eldest sister simply shrugged and skipped off, still humming the tune.

“Okay, she’s gone now.  Are you ok?” he asked.  He pulled out a small handkerchief from his pocket (clearly his parents were working this kid already by dressing him up with a handkerchief).  Mertle reluctantly accepted and sniffed.  “Mary Ann’s awful,” she hiccuped as she returned the piece of fabric to him.  This wasn’t even the first time Mary Ann had done this; she had seen how much Mertle clung onto Blaine like a safety blanket.  She claimed that he was the only person who was nice to her.

“She doesn’t mean anything by it, I’m sure,” he said.  The boy paused for a moment and chewed on his lip.  “Do you wanna be boyfriend-girlfriend with me, Mertle?”

Mertle scoffed.  “You were a dickbag, Blaine.  Go eat shit.”

“What?” she sniffed again, her eyes narrowed.  She was unsure of he was being sincere, but he was nice to her just now and even tried to make her feel better.  “Are... are you really asking me?”

A small pause and a look of sincerity on the boy’s face lasted about a few seconds before laughter escaped his lips.  “Nope!  Just kidding!  I only asked because your sister dared me to,” he laughed as he got up to run after Mary Ann, leaving Mertle to cry again where she sat.

“Aw, come on, baby, don’t be like that.”  Blaine inched closer to the girl, causing Mertle to scoot farther back until she hit a wall.  He took this opportunity to drape his arm across and lean on the wall, trapping Mertle between the wall and the boy.  She rolled her eyes and kept her gaze averted even as his face leaned in.  “Why don’t you let me make it up to you?”  His face was getting dangerously closer before taking a small dip towards her neck.  She could feel his warm breath creating goosebumps on her skin as he slowly dragged his face back up, his eyes forcing hers to meet his gaze.

“One chance on one condition,” she finally said.  Her mouth felt dry and she wasn’t sure how she managed to get any words out.

“Name your price,” he smirked, pleased to have gotten under her skin.

Mertle sucked in a breath and bit her lip.  “I need a plus one to a wedding.”

Now we're all grown up and we know better Now we recognize the way things are

#fhogself #self #kindergarten boyfriend #tw: eating disorder #pushes some plot along

[got-bad-in-my-bones]

What it Amounts To || Roscoe Self

Things had been rough. He wasn’t going to sugar-coat it anymore and the signs of his problem were becoming more noticeable by the day. He had cancer. The bad kind. His life was the full package of bad-boy-villain in a way that suited him perfectly, right up until it didn’t.

Roscoe woke up that morning to stagger to his bathroom. He relieved himself into the bowl, watching the sickeningly orange color fill up. Once that was done he hopped in the shower, dousing himself in water and soaps only to rub special brands in to slow down his hair loss. Tilting his head upward to rinse it off only made him dizzy with the vertigo that came with a recent Chemo treatment. But his morning wasn’t done yet.

Wiping himself off, he stood before the mirror and glared at his presentation. He couldn’t summon up a grin as his eyes soon trailed down to the tray of medications that seemed never-ending on the marble. There were at least 14 bottles of various shapes and sizes, but each of them had something to do with his healing process. He sighed and filled a glass of water, quickly setting out to down what he needed to. Roscoe barely remembered taking his vitamins as a kid, much less so many drugs he didn’t even know or care what they did individually.

He finished the last round of pills and downed his water all in one. His head lowered, and he stared once more at himself in the mirror. His face that he’d always known looked so different to him now. So very... not him.

Is this what his life amounted to?

Roscoe remembered his childhood. All his rebellion, his pushing, his fighting. He did it all his way, no matter what. He was in control, and he never let anything or anyone fuck with that. It’s what kept him alive, pushing, climbing, and eventually what made him the man he was this very day. And yet... Somewhere along the way he felt as if he’d lost it. 

Was it when he was captured and tossed into a hell on earth? Was it when he got out? Was it when the game became less interesting, or when he got cancer? Was it after that, even, when he summed up his life only to find he was still alone and empty?

He stared at his reflection, leaning over the marble sink as he gazed at his appearance. He was Roscoe Fucking Klein. Feared, adored, strong, powerful, confident, and utterly in control. He wasn’t weak like the rest of them. To hell with his cancer.

Roscoe Klein lived life on his own terms, nobody else’s.

He’d been wallowing for far too long, and it was time to take back his control. Sure, he’d fight and do what the doctors said, but this life was his, and would remain his for however long he had left. Might as well make the most of it. Why just cause a splash when you can cause a fucking Tsunami?

#fhogself #selfie #tw:cancer

[mulanzhou-blog]

Gift And Honor (self-para)

The end of June was nearing and Mulan needed to make her decisions soon.  Being home for most of summer thus far had consisted mostly of trying to tell her family about her future.  Or rather, it was more of her parents aggressively hinting that it would be best for Mulan to remain in the muggle world, get a position in a company and start preparing for a family.  “It’s what ladies your age should be doing now,” her mother would say.

“We’ve already accepted that flying and quidditch doesn’t fall outside of being a lady.”  It was an argument Mulan had now heard many times, replacing the previously held belief that quidditch and flying was unladylike.  Though the statement had changed, the premise remained the same: Mulan was still not fully allowed to be herself and follow her own dreams.

“But 媽媽!” Mulan would always reply, her brows furrowed in a frown as she followed along behind her mother who moved around the house, cleaning every surface despite how spotless everything looked.  “These are great opportunities!  Even if not both, just one would be a good start towards a better profession!”

“木蘭, this is just an excuse for you to leave home and never come back.  How will you achieve any of the success if you are not here?”  Mama Zhou continued to bustle and was now in the living room rearranging picture frames.

Mulan couldn’t help but let out a groan and slouch in defeat, both actions resulting in a Mama Zhou’s signature warning look.  Instantly, Mulan straightened her back but continued to follow her mother around with a pout on her face.  Before she could get another word in, Grandma Zhou spoke as she rested in the near-by armchair in the same room.

“Li, you need to let Mulan grow, spread her wings and fly, so to speak,” she chuckled at her own joke.  “媽媽, Mulan’s place is here in this world and in this house.”  It seemed endless.  And this was how these conversations often went; the three ladies of the house going back and forth on this conversation.  Mulan begging for the chance, Mama Zhou rejecting them, and Grandma Zhou trying to side with Mulan.  In the end, that just didn’t work.

Frustrated once more by this unsurprising turn of events, Mulan stomped out to the yard and to the family temple.  She rarely prayed to her ancestors, but she figured at least some alone time there would cool her down.  She was muttering under her breath and angrily looking at the ground when she nearly walked straight into her father.

“爸爸!” Mulan exclaimed.  Her father smiled kindly as he stood at the entrance of the temple.  “Praying to the ancestors, Mulan?  How unorthodox.”  Mulan blew out air from her mouth, forcing a strand of hair to fly upward.  “Is it 媽媽 again?” he frowned.  His eyes betrayed no favoritism, but he was still gentle and understanding in the way that he addressed his daughter.

“I just don’t see why she won’t let me do these things.  Clearly if the school and this professional quidditch team want me, then I must be doing something right!” she shouted.  Her anger mixed with hurt and disappointment that her mother couldn’t understand her.  “But?” Father Zhou beckoned.

“But why does it feel like everything I do is wrong?  If I choose to go, I feel like I’m betraying 媽媽 and you.  If I stay, I’m betraying myself.  No matter what, I can’t seem to be happy with either outcome.”

Father Zhou nodded sagely, stroking his chin.  “Mulan, why do you think 媽媽 won’t let you go?”  She knew this was his attempt at trying to get her to understand her mother’s point of view, but this was not the first time Mulan had racked her head on whatever was going on inside her mother’s mind.  So she shrugged.  “Probably wants me to be safe and to be a lady because nothing is more honorable than being a lady and marrying a wealthy man and starting a family.”

Her father shook his head.  As someone who was meant to marry into an arranged marriage (but ended up falling in love with his wife anyways), he felt much differently.  “Mulan, the greatest gift and honor to your mother and I is simply having you for a daughter.  There is nothing you can do that won’t make us proud of you regardless of what you choose.  You are our only daughter, Mulan.  How would you feel if your only child left the family into a world unbeknownst to us, unreachable for us?  We cannot protect from everything, but we also cannot help you where we cannot reach you.”

Mulan bit her lip.  She had forgotten that her family had no access to the magical world.  How could she have forgotten?

“You should do what your heart tells you, Mulan.  We will understand and we will always be here to help you whenever you return to us.”

She turned around and saw her mother standing behind, a small and sad smile on her face.  Mulan let out a shaky breath that she didn’t realize she had been holding in.  Part of her wanted to ask if her mother was sure, but she knew that her mom would not say something like that unless she was certain.

To whom it may concern;

I graciously accept the position of B String Keeper for the Holyhead Harpies.  Thank you for this opportunity and I will work hard for the team.

Sincerely, Mulan

To Headmistress Salvania;

I graciously accept the position of Flying TA.  Thank you for this opportunity and I look forward to teaching.

Sincerely, Mulan

#gift and honor #fhogself #self

[jingles-paisleywinkle]

I Can Put On A Show // Selfie

Paisley was happy to have failed out of Hogwarts. Yes. Happy. Hogwarts was fun, it was an escape, but in the end, Hogwarts was a distraction from the real issues at hand. After prom, Paisley chose to leave Hogwarts. She didn't want to stay for the end of the year festivities or even to talk with others and spend their last few days together as students. No, Paisley had an alternative plan.

Paisley had spent weeks getting sober. Even checking herself into the infirmary and asking Clyde for help. This all would not have been possible without her dear step father's help of course. Pais knew he was using her. But if he was using her, she realized, maybe he was scared of her. Rather than feel helpless, Pais took her life into her own hands and used the only thing she knew how to do better than her stepfather. Lie.

Recording herself with a muggle phone, she had taken from an unsuspecting girl who passed out in the great hall; Paisley learned how she acted high. Her last few times, while getting over her addiction, were almost like research. Paisley still received care packages weekly from her step-father which she had begun giving to Clyde. After all, she didn't want to be tempted, and she began practicing on friends and classmates her high act. She learned how to make track marks in her arms and how to make herself sweat when she hadn't had a "fix". Her fake relapse even worked on Clyde who sent her to the infirmary for a few days after he saw her. Everything was going just as she would hope. So when she got the notification that she was failing, she knew it was time to go.

Paisley arrived home to the screams of her little sister. "Merlin," Pais said softly, forgetting how annoying her new sister, Mirabella, could be. She knew she never wanted a child, that was certain. Paisley walked in the house, track marks showing and she began shaking with purpose, it was show time.

"Mum," she called out to her mother. "Mum!" She called out again giggling a bit this time, just as a high Paisley would.

"Paisy?" Her mother said surprised, turning around the corner to see her other daughter while bouncing the little monster in her arms. It was clear her mom was on something, but like mother like daughter, eh? "Paisy, is school out already?" She said, nearly panicked looking for a calendar. Nearly of course, because when you're hyped on some mix of pain meds and Xanax, you don't really get panicked at all.

"Nah, mum I wanted to come home. Dad has sent me so many amazing care packages I thought I'd save him the owl!" She giggled. "Schools dumb anyway, I got you guys!"

Her mom smiled petting Paisley's head with one hand while holding Mirabella with the other. Her eyes seemed distant. "That's nice honey," her body swayed a bit more than normal.

High Paisley wouldn't have noticed, but Mirabella's screams and her mother's sways made Paisley's eyes lock on Mirabella. Paisley watched as little Mirabella started to slip in her mother's arms and a piece of Paisley lit up. Drop her. Yes. Drop her, make things easy. But between the sways and the demands of her mind, a pang rose up as Mirabella hung by her torso to her mother's arm and as her mother now closed her eyes slowly.

"Mum... Mira-MUM." Just as she did that Pais launched up catching her little sister as her mom fell half onto the couch. Slumping in a drugged sleep.

In her arms was the little monster now screaming in Paisley's arms. Gross. Paisley touched the babies clearly soiled diaper. Her mother was negligent. That wasn't new. It was a wonder that Paisley made it to 17, having experienced drunken and drug binges most of her life. Her mother was great when she was coherent, and now that Pais had lived a life of drugs, she understood why. But a part of Paisley did resent her mother, if not for her own sake, for Mirabella's. Pais expected her mother to be better now. She was older, not 17 like when she had Paisley, she had something to prove to her husband, and she had his support. After all, Miller had the money for at least four nannies. Unlike when Paisley was a toddler, and they had no money to spare.

Paisley began rocking Mirabella; it was strange to be doing so as she walked the house looking for a new diaper. It felt natural to be caring for the girl, in fact, despite the screaming, Paisley wanted to help.

Entering the nursery Paisley found it in ruins. Toys everywhere, pills covering the floor, diapers overflowing a bin in the corner. Before, Pais had been a little bitter, Mirabella was going to get a good Mom and a good dad. Everything was going to be proper, and she'd be raised with care and adoration. Further, she would have the whole Mafia's support and even get the Mafia itself one day. Gotta love nepotism.

The room screamed a different time, and a different childhood Paisley barely remembered before moving here. Of dirty mattresses on mice, ridden floors with lost girls who looked a lot like Paisley did now, early wrinkles, dark eyes, and pale skin. Shaking and crying because they needed their next fix. Paisley remembered being three and curled up on the mattress with her mom. She wasn't sure if her mom was dead or asleep and the other girls and the foul smell of body secretions filling the air. Paisley remembered the people who owned the house, giving the girls cuts of money that Paisley didn't understand. Paisley remembered being lucky to be there. Usually, kids weren't allowed. But Paisley was quiet and, if not, she was sneaky when she did something wrong. Paisley was called a burden by the house owner, who saw the girl as more of a pet. "Should have gotten rid of her when you had the chance" she remembered them saying, "no one needs a parasite."

Her mom would tuck her in at night and leave though, and sometimes she'd be gone for days. She thought Paisley didn't notice, she was young, and she was supposed to sleep when her mom was gone. But Pais would stay up all night waiting and shaking scared to get out of bed because the house owner yelled and hit her mom and the other girls when they did something wrong. All these years Paisley had seen Miller as a blessing. He gave them a home and money and no one hit, and they gave her whatever she wanted. Sure, now she wanted more, but looking at Mirabella, she felt a connection. This was the same Mom, and they were sharing a pain but to different extremes.

Paisley picked up a diaper and began cleaning up Mirabella. "You don't deserve this," Paisley said softly, guilt building up inside of her. She felt her eyes well up with tears, looking down at her baby sister. "I should have done a better job killing you." Paisley wiped her clean, but didn't put the diaper on Mira right away. Mira had gone quiet, cooing as she had been cleaned and kicking her legs happily. Paisley saw it, the little smile she had. It was just like hers. And her little hands and feet, she was going to be small, just like Paisley too. Paisley unfolded the diaper carefully, her hands shaking from nerves this time. Her mind had extreme clarity, and he finger tips tingled. Paisley lifted the diaper, covering Mirabella's face.

Mirabella wailed as Paisley tried to smother her. Paisley's hand was firm on Mira's face, pushing a little harder and hoping time and air would pass from Mirabella's lungs just that much faster. Paisle felt her own body go cold and pale at the thought of what Mira could become. This little girl didn't need to be a drug addicted pawn. This little girl didn't need to be neglected and paid off. This little girl didn't need to watch people she loved to get killed. This little girl didn't need to learn to lie her way through life. This little girl didn't need to feel like no one could ever love her. This little girl didn't need to become Paisley, because there was already a Paisley and that was already too much.

But her little feet kicked as she struggled for air and that part of Paisley that knew how to rock her, and knew that she needed to be changed, and knew to catch her when she fell, and saw the little smile she saw in herself, and the little body that would grow no bigger than her own, and that piece that felt that they were connected and knew, just knew, that they were sisters, that piece of her released her hand from the diaper and her sisters face. She couldn't do it. She couldn't kill this little monster.

Paisley touched her sister's hair; it was short and still fine. She was still young after all, but it was dark like hers. Pais knew she had her hair from her own father, but that didn't mean she didn't still feel like it was something that bonded them. They looked alike, that was without a doubt. They were certainly siblings. Pais diapered Mirabella and laid the girl down for a nap. Mira had stopped screaming, and Pais went around the room setting it up carefully and putting things where they belonged. She took the diaper in out, picked up the toys, threw her clothes in the laundry for the house elves to clean up. Paisley wanted to help, but Paisley knew she couldn't always be there for Mirabella. That didn't stop her from doing what she could now.

With all of her strength, she picked up her mother and placed her on her side, a blanket on top of her, and left her alone. Her mother had always tried, and in her own way, Pais wasn't mad about the way she was raised, she was bitter her mother couldn't do better than that now. But her stepfather, that's who she was really mad at. He could do better, but it was clear he was leaving her mother to do it herself. Paisley stood up,  listening carefully to be sure Mirabella was sleeping, and no one was around. She got back into character and made her way down the street, back to acting like a high girl who knew no better than to follow her stepdad's word and let him get her more drugs. But Pais knew. She always had known.

#read more for length #fhogself #tw: attempted murder #tw: prostitution implied #selfies

[rightinfront-ronno-blog]

Ronno Schavez After

Ronno didn’t waste much time setting out to right the wrongs done to him thanks to the laws on the secrecy of the wizarding world. But who would listen to a regular, unimportant, non-magical felon under house-arrest in a sleepy little town near a school? He needed to come up with a way to sway those in power to actually pay attention. His first attempt, a website that people could post pictures to called Scrapwitch, wasn’t going to be the latest fad if nobody could get on it, so he decided to fix that too. The Scolla Stone was his second attempt and when it came out people scrambled to get their hands on it. In no time at all, Ronno had gone from nobody to the next Steve Jobs of the wizarding world, and finally got some people to listen.

After winning his freedom in court to be permitted to travel between the magical and non-magical worlds, Ronno went back to his old home to reconnect with his family and friends. Unfortunately the damage done to their memories had been permanent. Though it hurt, Ronno realized that the life he’d been forced to leave was no longer an option, but the life he had now was well worth maintaining and living. He’d keep living it and slowly fighting for non-magical rights within the community he was now apart of. With his newfound income from The Scolla Stone, Ronno bought a place in London and a large office space he would consider the new base of operations for MajTech.

#selfie #fhogself #after

[mersoldsoul]

If I Had Your Name, I’d Be Changing It By Now || Self

Mer still found herself trying to take a deep even breath as she approached the park. It would be exactly 2:00 when she arrived, neither early nor late. It seemed like the best thing she could do for herself considering the storm raging inside her. Considering what she’d learned. Considering who Kyle Reed actually was.

When she arrived, she realized that she was the only one there. Typical. She showed up on time, but he couldn’t be bothered to give her the same courtesy. The temper bubbling steadily under the surface began to boil stronger and stronger. Didn’t he realize she had things to do? Tomorrow as the first day of school. She needed to finish packing, make sure the house was ready for her departure, perform a final check over her school work, and then tomorrow would bring the usual insanity of the first day of school. She didn’t have time to waste right now.

Of course, she would have been more on top of all of this if she hadn’t been so focused on unraveling the mystery of her father’s past. If he’d answered a single one of her questions from the start, she might have been less focused on it. But he hadn’t, and she couldn’t leave a mystery alone, so she’d discovered the truth. More fool her.

Nearly 15 minutes had passed before Kyle came rushing up, grinning with a sort of regretful charm as he brushed his hair out of his face. “Sorry I’m late Merry, I got a little caught up with my work and lost track of time, I hope you’ll forgive me.”

Mer felt that tug at her heart as he grinned hopefully, but she didn’t change her carefully neutral expression. This was only the second time they were seeing each other in person, he had asked her to meet him, and now he was late? It was going to take more than a little charm for him to talk his way out of this. “Come on. You wanted to walk and share your big news and I don’t have a lot of time.”

She turned sharply in the direction of the path and began to walk forward. As she did so, she caught a glimpse of his disconcerted expression, but by the time he’d caught up with her he was all smiles again. “I am sorry, Merry. It won’t happen again.”

How often had she heard that excuse? She would accept it from her sisters. The only way she would accept it from anyone else was if they proved that it was true. “So what’s your big news you wanted to share?”

She felt more than heard his sigh. “See, I was thinking the other day. I know I haven’t been much of a good dad to you, but I want to fix that. I want to be around more, teach you about my work, and then maybe after Hogwarts we could go into business together.”

He paused, and Mer could tell he was waiting for some kind of response, but what could she say? It was a nice idea, sure. But she had no idea what business he was involved in so how could she know if that was what she wanted? “I think that’s a nice idea. I mean, actually responding to my letters over the summer is a good start, and once you explain your work to me I can decide if that’s the direction my life should go in. But this sounds exactly like what you said months ago, I don’t see how this is big news.”

“Because I want to make it official Meredith. I want to adopt you and make you part of my family. I want to prove I’m serious this time.”

As soon as he spoke, Mer stopped in the middle of the path and stared at him. “Adopt me? Have you made the same offer to Flora and Fauna?”

The hesitation was brief, but it was there. “Well, no, I haven’t. But they’re both adults, they don’t really need a caretaker do they? And –“

“Stop. Just stop.”

“What?”

Mer stared at him. This stranger who claimed to share a blood relation with her. The icy cold of his words battled with the temper inside her until she wasn’t sure what she was feeling or what was going to win in the end. But all she knew was that whatever was happening here was very very wrong. And she had been too stupid to figure it out earlier.

“How old am I?”

This time, he was the one staring at her, baffled, as she waited for his answer. “What?”

“You heard me. How old am I? When is my birthday?”

“Well, Merry, I’ve been gone a long time, but that’s part of why I’m trying to be more involved, and I know you’re younger, and –“

“I’m 16. In three days, I’ll have my 17th birthday. Technically, I’ll be an adult. Which you should have known because you should have known exactly how long ago you left us. I don’t need a care taker either. And frankly, I haven’t been a child since mother died so my birthday is at best a formality. But regardless you should have known that.”

“Well, I –“

“You should have known that Kyle Reed,” she spat out. 

At the sound of his full name, he stopped. For the first time, his carefully constructed mask cracked and she saw beneath the charm to the grasping desperate man he really was.

“Then again, you were so busy being in prison for fraud and identity theft, I suppose it’s easy to lose track of time.”

His voice was flat as he spoke, “How did you find that out?”  

“Mother didn’t get rid of everything when you’d left. It took me some time to find any sort of document with your name on it, but once I did, it wasn’t hard to track down more information. Or did you forget that I work part time in an auror office? But a name, a picture, and an approximate release date do wonders for identification,” Mer could hear the angry bitterness in her tone, but she didn’t bother to soften it.

She waited for a moment, but when he didn’t speak, she couldn’t keep it to herself any longer. “Why didn’t you tell me? Why didn’t you tell me the truth?”

“I didn’t want you to judge me until you’d had the chance to get to know me better. I didn’t know what your mother had said about me, and I wanted to have the chance to explain.”

“SO YOU SHOULD HAVE EXPLAINED! YOU SHOULD HAVE BEEN THE ONE TO TELL ME INSTEAD OF MAKING ME FIND IT OUT ON MY OWN!” She took a deep breath, trying to bring herself back under some kind of control, but she knew it was futile. “Do you really think it was better for me to think you had just abandoned us until it was convenient to come back? Don’t you think I would have judged you less if you’d said to me ‘Hello Meredith. I made a mistake and I’ve been in prison which is why I couldn’t come help you and your sisters when my wife died. But as soon as I got out I came to find you.’ How hard is that?”

“The thing is – “

“And why me? Why did you only write to me, why didn’t you talk to Flora and Fauna like you said you would? What the hell were the games in the letters about?”

“Oh Merry. You’d put together so many of the pieces, but you’re still so naïve aren’t you? Since you’re so smart, what do you think the games were about?”

He was right, she was smart. And it wasn’t necessarily that she was naïve. The problem was there had been a small part of her who had been still hoping that he would have a reasonable explanation for all this. But without that hope in the way, the pieces fell into place easily enough. And this time, instead of furious, she could only feel disgusted. With him. And with herself.

“You were training me to be like you. Practicing my skill at forging handwriting so I could steal people’s identities and their money. You wanted me to be your apprentice in being a criminal because apparently prison didn’t change you at all.”

“Very good. I mean, considering your previous work, I had high hopes for you. The brains are a useful part of it as well, especially if you don’t’ want to get caught. You could be amazing.”

Mer stared at him for a moment, shaking slightly. “What. Previous. Work.”

“Don’t act like you don’t know. After all, you’ve been taking care of your sisters for awhile now haven’t you? Especially their money.”

That was when the final piece of the puzzle clicked into place. Somehow he knew that she had been managing their funds all these years, forging Flora’s signature when necessary on the financial and legal documents to be sure that everything was submitted in time. At the time, she had labored over copying Flora’s signature, trying to make sure she could get all of it just right. But as time had gone on, it had become easier and easier. Mer could probably write an entire letter and it would look almost exactly like Flora’s handwriting. And he knew.

“How did you – “

“When I got out of prison, I figured it was worth it to check up on you three. After all, I was notified of your mother’s death when it happened and I was curious who they’d shoved you three on. Imagine my surprise when you had managed to stay all together. I was able to get a glimpse at the documents related to you three over the years, and I could immediately see when you started to forge Flora’s signature. You were good enough to avoid suspicion early on, and you clearly improved with time. Enough so that only another professional might have detected the change at all. But once I found that out, I had to know who had inherited my talent. After all, that’s what every father wants isn’t it? To see himself in his children?”

He waited for a moment to see if she would respond, but Mer said nothing. At his last words, she had moved from merely disgusted into genuinely nauseous. Was it true? Was the reason she’d gotten away with being Flora all those years because she had already started to become the man her father was? Had her ability to keep her family together come from the fact that she had inherited a willingness to break the law for her own ends?

“Once I’d been put onto your game, it wasn’t hard to figure out which of you girls it probably was. Flora wouldn’t bother forging her own signature, so that gave me two possibilities. A couple questions soled the rest. After all, everyone talked about how little Meredith had done all the grocery shopping for her family, she delivered all the mail, she talked with people about doing the cooking and the cleaning, and she was usually the one around if any repair people came by. When compared with dizzy day dreamer Fauna who no one could remember doing any work at all, it wasn’t even a contest. So I started reaching out to you. My daughter. My heir.”

“No.”

“No what?”

“No. I’m not going to be part of this. Not any longer. The letters stop, the games stop, and you stop trying to think of me as anything other than connected to you through an accident of biology. You’re going to crawl back into whatever hole you came out of, and you will never talk to any member of my family again.”

“Now Merry,”

“Don’t! Don’t ‘now Merry’ me. I stopped using that nickname after you left and I have no intention of going back to it. My name is Meredith. My friend’s call me Mer, but as I’m not friends with you and I never will be, you don’t get to use that one either. And if, if I had your last name, I would change it now because I want nothing to do with you at all.”

“I really think you’re overreacting –“

“No I’m not. Because you’re nothing to me. Mom is the one who raised us. Mom is the one who loved us. Mom bought our school supplies, wrote letters to us, helped us with our summer homework, and took us into town. Mom let us cry on her shoulder and would make us laugh when we were ready. Mom supported all of our interests and pushed us out of our comfort zones so we could find new things we’d love and grow as people. She’s the one who made us a family.

“But you? You abandoned us. You could have chosen to give  up being a conman, I don’t care what kind of crowd you were with. But you didn’t. When she told you to actually become someone worth being in our lives, you walked away. You never visited, you never wrote letters, you never bothered to do anything at all. And now, here, you finally come waltzing back into my life, but it’s only because you think I’d be useful to you. Well. No more. After today, you’re going to walk away and never look back. Get yourself thrown back in prison for all I care! But if you touch me or my sisters, I will make sure you spend the rest of your life regretting it. I will report you to the aurors immediately. And I will personally testify to putting you in the darkest hole they have because you’re never ever going to change.”

Mer could see him beginning to pale, as if he did see some threat in her words. But he wasn’t beaten just yet. Trying to give her a smug smile, he shifted his weight with forced casualness.

“Oh yeah? And what about you? If you do, I can tell them all about your little forgeries over the years. I don’t think they’ll like that too much.”

But at the pathetic threat, Mer just scoffed. “Really? Who do you think they’ll believe? A convicted con man who was in prison for years for lying, or a straight-O Hogwarts student, dedicated Quidditch player, and prefect who works part time with one of the most famous aurors in Britain?”

This time he had no response. But Mer knew she had him. “I’m not going to be part of your family. I’m not going to respond to any of your letters. And I will never be a criminal like you. What I did, I did to protect us. In three days, that will no longer be necessary and even that much will stop. But I never, ever, want to see you again. You have no right to my sisters, and you have no right to me. So we’re done.”

Mer turned and began to walk away.

From behind her, she heard him call out slightly, “You’re going to regret this.”

Briefly she paused and turned to look back over her shoulder. “No. I won’t.” And with that, she walked quickly off down the path. She wanted to be as far away as possible before she officially broke down in tears.

#self #fhogself #this is set on Thursday but I'm a little late

[fairladymarian]

Flip the Switch || Self, ft. Violet

It was a Sunday, and following her father’s tradition, she made sure never to work on Sundays. It felt strange not to be spending the day getting ready to return to Hogwarts, especially as she thought of her friends that were doing exactly that. Bobby, Jack-Jack and Thad all had their 7th years to finish. Mulan and PJ were going back as TA’s. Of course, some of her friends were like her and starting lives that had nothing at all to do with Hogwarts. But knowing that she had officially outgrown the place still left a strange restlessness she wasn’t quite sure what to do with.

Figuring that she could compound her feeling of discomfort (because why do anything else – it wasn’t like there was a lot she could do to make herself feel better) she walked down the hall to the library. To her father.

He spent most of his days here at this point. She wasn’t sure what he was looking for in the quiet words, but it wasn’t hard to see that he wasn’t finding it. In the months since his return to England, he hadn’t grown any less jumpy or wary. His wand was never far from his side. But it was as if all of his instructions stopped at ‘be ready to fight at all times’, so there wasn’t really a person left in there with him. He hadn’t said a word since that day in court. He barely looked at anyone. He just sat and read. And waited.

According to the servants, the one other thing he might be doing periodically is practicing. They couldn’t say for sure as the library was well insulated from the rest of the house. But sometimes they would walk in, and everything would look a little off, as if the furniture had been disturbed and repaired in a hurry. Jessica reported finding a fine layer of ash in there on more than one occasion. But no one ever saw or heard anything in particular, so they couldn’t say exactly what was going on.

Arriving at the door, May knocked loudly. “Good morning Father.” She waited an extra moment before opening the door and stepping inside.

To no surprise, he sat in a chair with a book open on his lap. It was hard to tell if he was actually reading anything, but the book on his lap did change periodically. So maybe he did. After that last attempt with the photo albums, May rarely tried any new ‘tricks’ for breaking his curse. Instead, she simply spoke to him about his day and sat with him. Maybe what he needed most at the moment was time. Time to realize he wasn’t at war anymore, that he was home where he belonged. Maybe when he could start to believe that, his mind would be able to relax enough to grow strong and fight the curse on its own. So she tried to make herself believe that it was enough just to be there with him.

May walked over to the bookshelf, trailing her fingers along the spines of the books as she tried to decide what she was in the mood for. Eventually she settled on The Other Boleyn Girl and curled up in her usual chair. It felt like the kind of day to lose herself in someone else’s tragic romance.

As she read, she completely lost track of time. Somewhere along the way, the silence became a little less oppressive, and a little more companionable, and she found herself relaxing, truly, for the first time in years. This was her home with no one to challenge that, her people were safe, her father was here, and it was her day off. She let the tension fade and smiled to herself slightly. So this was what peace felt like.

CRASH!

May felt like she was moving in slow motion as she looked up towards the shattered window to see her uncle standing there. He looked terrible. His normally pristine clothes looked disheveled, wrinkled, and a little dirty. As if he’d been sleeping outside recently and hadn’t had a chance to clean himself up. His hair was long and tangled, he had a smear of dirt on one cheek, and his eyes. They reminded her of a cornered animal – desperate, and dangerous.

It only took half a second for May to register the wand he was pointing straight at her. And only a half second more to realize that she had accidentally left her wand on the bookshelf, and there was no way for her to get to it in time.

But that didn’t mean she wouldn’t try.

Reacting instinctively, she threw the book in his direction as she dove out of the chair, rolling and trying to get behind one of the other chairs in the room to provide some cover until she could make it to her wand. Behind her she heard a yelp, followed by “YOU BITCH!” Apparently she’d hit her target.

It was unlikely any of the servants would be coming to help. Unless they heard the crash of the window, the room was too sound proofed and the house was too big to hope that someone was just walking by. She didn’t even bother to glance at her father. If her uncle was still keyed into the spell on her father, it would only be a moment before she was trying to dodge two sets of spells. One of which was used to deadly combat. She just needed to buy time.

“Come on out you little brat. You think a chair is going to stand in my way? You’re going to die. And then I’ll finally have what’s mine. At last! It’ll all be mine! MINE I SAY!”

Taking a deep breath, May pulled a small stone from her pocket before holding it against her lips. “Fallen Angel.” The words were barely more than a whisper, but it was enough to have the stone start to glow purple. She stood up from behind the safety of the chair and threw the stone as hard as she could in the direction of the screaming. Her uncle stared at her for a moment before ducking out of the way of the stone. May didn’t wait to see it smash into the wall as she dove again, hoping, praying she could be fast enough.

“HA! Look at you, you’re like a fucking rabbit. Running from me. Me! And now you’re gonna die like the coward you are. Avada Kedav-“

Before he could finish the spell, May heard a small explosion. She took advantage of whatever happened to scramble to her feet, racing over to the bookshelf, grabbing her wand and turning around. But what she saw when she did nearly had her dropping her wand again in surprise.

Her uncle was crumpled on the ground, scrambling to reach the wand that had flown out of his hand. Her father was standing over him, pointing his wand downwards. And he looked alive.

“Father?” May whispered.

Just as Uncle John made it to his wand, another explosive spell rocketed out of her father’s wand and blasted the ground where her uncle’s hand was, only missing it as her uncle pulled his hand back to safety. He looked up at his brother in fear and disgust.

“What are you doing? Stop this right now! Attack her!”

“No.” Once again, her father’s voice sounded gravely with the disuse. But it was the first word he had spoken since the trial.

“What do you mean no? I order you to attack her!”

“I won’t be following your orders anymore. Little Brother.”

That was when her uncle finally looked at her father. Really looked. And what he saw there left him with white-faced panic.

“You broke the curse. You shouldn’t have been able to break the curse. How did you break the curse.” His voice began shaking harder and harder with each question, and his body followed not long after.

“You threatened my Angel. I couldn’t find the strength to break the curse before then. But for her, I found it. And I’ll never go back to that place again.” Her father’s voice was harsh and final, and May watched as her uncle flinched away from it. Neither of them had ever heard a voice like that come from him ever before, and May found herself hoping that she never had cause to hear it again.

But just then, he looked over at her and stared directly into her eyes. What she saw there had her heart stuttering in her chest as she fought back tears. It was love. A fierce, proud, wonderful love. Love of the kind that felt like something physical, wrapping around her, and making her feel alive and wanted in a way she had started to think she would never feel again. This was the feeling she’d been waiting for. This was what she’d wanted. Exactly this. “I’ll never leave you again.”

May opened her mouth to respond, but the rush of joy soon turned to horror as she saw her uncle lunge for his wand to attack his brother from behind. “LOOK OUT!”

She snapped her wand back up and shifted to try and defend him, but years at war had made him faster. In a blink he had turned, kicking his foot out in the same motion so it slammed into John’s wand wrist and the wand went flying back towards the wall. A flick of his wrist and the wand flew directly into her father’s hand. Both John and May started as her father snapped the wand in two with a large crack.

A pained squeak left her uncle at the sight of his wand breaking. Her father gave him only a dismissive glance before tossing both pieces into the fire. “You should be ashamed of yourself.” This time, he made sure to bind her uncle in ropes and tie him firmly to one of the chairs before lowering his wand.

“We should call the aurors to take care of…this.” Her father said.

“They’re on their way already.”

Both men stared at May in surprise. “They are? How?”

May gestured to the purple stone, glowing softly from where it had stuck to the wall after she’d thrown it. “It was a safety precaution that was set up. Just in case. By activating the stone, the auror on the other end knew that I was in life threatening danger, and would know to come. All I had to do was hold the danger off long enough for her to arrive.”

She could see the pride in her father’s eyes as she explained although it was tinged with sadness. But she couldn’t think about that now. Later, she could curl up with her father, talk over everything, and they could find their way back to whatever the future would hold. But first, she needed to know.

“Why Uncle John? Why did you try to kill me?”

He spat on the floor. “I should have killed you ages ago. With you gone, I would have inherited everything. I could have had everything that was mine and you couldn’t have interfered.”

“But killing me would have gotten you nothing.”

He stared at her for a moment, clearly baffled. “But who else could it have gone to? We’re the only Marians left.”

“I wrote my will as soon as I could prove I was of age. The Marian Estate would go to the Parrs in its entirety, excepting the amount that continues to fund the Foundation. My shares of the company were to be split equally between the three Parrs and Thad McAllister. And Thad’s sister Thia would receive an allowance for every year of her life that only she could access. You would have inherited nothing.”

Her uncle sputtered with disbelief as he stared at her. “You would have given everything to the Parrs? They’re barely purebloods! They have no power, no respect, no-no-no right! Besides, the protective spells are keyed to Marian blood.”

“They have Marian blood. Distantly, but it’s enough that they would be able to activate and maintain the protective spells for the estate. More importantly, I know they would value it the way I do, and they would take care of this trust the way it deserves. They would do it for themselves, they would do it for the other people, and they would do it for me. Something you never would.”

“You-you-you-“

“I didn’t trust you to take care of the estate and our people the way that it should be. I worked very hard not to start hating you. But I couldn’t trust you. I trust them. So they are the ones who would receive everything if I was gone. You never had a chance.”

Screaming incoherently, John tried to lunge out of the chair at her, only held back by the ropes. Richard took an instinctive step in front of her, raising his wand, but May didn’t bother to move. He couldn’t scare her. Not anymore.

Just then, the two aurors burst into the room. Violet Parr immediately found May’s eyes with her own, and there was something like wariness in them as she took in the scene. Andrew Gardner moved straight for the bound figure.

May took a deep breath. “You heard what happened?”

“Every word of it. Good job on getting the confession. That will make conviction much easier.” It only took Auror Gardner a moment to readjust the ropes so that he had hold of Uncle John and could force him to his feet. “John Marian, I am arresting you for the attempted murder of May Marian. You do not have to say anything, but it may harm your defense if you if you do not mention when questioned something which you later rely on in court. Anything you do say may be given in evidence.”

Violet was still staring at May, and she spoke up without turning to look at her superior. “Gardner, I’ll join you in a moment. I have something to discuss with Ms. Marian.”

Her father looked at them for a moment before nodding slightly. “I’ll follow you out. He is my brother still. I’d like to see him off.”

Once the three men left the room, Violet and May were standing there alone. It didn’t take Vi long to get to the point. “Were you ever going to tell us?”

May hadn’t been sure where Vi was going to start, but it was just like the other girl to zero in on the most pertinent issue. No rehashing her reasons why, no expressions of disbelief, no wonder. Just why hadn’t she told any of them about this decision of hers. And was she going to. Her honesty meant that May couldn’t do anything but be honest in return. “Most likely not.”

“Why the hell not? It was just going to be ‘so sorry your friend has died, by the way, she’s left you with everything? Oh you didn’t know? Well have fun figuring it the fuck out?”

“Mostly because I hoped it wouldn’t ever be necessary. I didn’t want to place that on all of your shoulders, have an heir someday, and then take all that away again. But for my own piece of mind, I needed to choose heirs now. Just in case. I have a letter included in my will with a detailed explanation to all of you, and – “

“A letter. From after you’re dead. Yeah that’s not gonna fuck with my brothers at all.”

“And knowing about it now would be better? You know Dash would see it as a fun adventure until it became a huge burden. Jack-Jack would immediately start trying to assume responsibility for all the different aspects. Neither of them would be comfortable with it, and knowing about it ahead of time wouldn’t help them.”

“And me?”

May paused. Originally she hadn’t meant to tell Violet either, but circumstances had taken that out of her control. “You know how to carry weighty secrets. I didn’t want to add to it. But I trust that you can.”

Violet looked at her for a moment before swearing softly and turning away.

May paused for a moment before taking a deep breath. “I needed to know that my home, my company, and my servants would all be cared for after I was gone. But just as importantly, I needed to know that my closest friends would be cared for after I was gone. This felt a little like killing two birds with one stone.”

Vi didn’t bother to turn around, but May thought she caught a small softening in her stance. “All three of those boys would rather have you than your money.”

Almost in spite of herself, May found herself chuckling “I’d rather be here than have to give it to them. But live the way I do, you’ll understand the value of contingency plans. If nothing else, these last two years have taught me that anything can happen.”

Vi finally turned around, and there was an almost wry amusement in her eyes. “I guess I’ve learned the same.”

For a moment, the two women stood in companionable silence. Both 19, both pureblood, both carrying more responsibility than they had imagined themselves having right after school. They’d never been close friends, but years of connection to Thad and Dash had made them friendly. Now they were bound by circumstances and a secret. Maybe it would be enough to make them true friends, or maybe not. Anything could happen.

“I should go catch up to my superior. After how public all your shit has been, we’re going to want to get him locked down fast. And it seems like you have a lot to catch up on with your dad.”

“Yeah. Yeah I do.”

#self #fhogself #Violet #surprise I had one more thing to put may through

[mia-bernard-blog]

One Step Ahead || Mia

It had been a very long day at the inn. Mia had just ushered out four drunk patrons before being able to start cleaning the dining room. By the time she started heading upstairs, it was almost three in the morning. She walked in, rolled her shoulders and shut the door behind her.

And froze. 

Then immediately pulled out her wand, spun around, just in time to see a wizard trying to rush out the window of her room.

“Impedimenta!” Mia cried, and the wizard seemed to slow impossibly, enough for her to grab his cloak, yank him backwards and push him against the wall. He grunted as she drove an elbow into the middle of his chest, holding her wand up to his neck.

“What in the hell do you think you’re doing?” she hissed. She got a proper look at his face, now - he was young, pimply-faced and ruddy, was this a prank? Maybe he’d just gotten stuck - no, no, he was hiding! Behind her! This was more than that. And as her eyes flickered down to the insignia beside her elbow on the boy’s chest, embroidery that was unclear in the darkness but perfectly clear to her, her blood ran cold. 

How did they find m -- wait.

Mia moved back, keeping her hand against the boy’s chest. She kept her wand against his neck and the wordlessly, transfigured the fake human back into its true form - a roll of parchment. She breathed a quick, shaky sigh out. She was getting too old for this, goddamn -- 

She leant down to pick up the scroll, unfurling it and reading it. But that freezing feeling came back as soon as she read the first line.

Hello, Tawny. Or, should we address you properly, Mia?

They never used her name in correspondence. They didn’t know it. But now they did. They had never been this close.

We’re glad to see this letter found you, and do so hope you didn’t murder our Kenneth likeness too brutally, as you are wont to do. We are close. We know you’ve hopped the pond. You know that we’re on your scent.

And it was true, but damn it, she’d held them off for so long now. She hadn’t had to go quiet and cold for a while now, but when the letters started arriving, it was imminent. They couldn’t track the letters exactly - she had done enough so that they couldn’t trace her specifically. Countless charms and counter-spells were on her permanently, but the organisation she had spied for was ruthless. They sent the letters out indiscriminately, and once she received one, she had to leave, make noise somewhere far away, lure them out and disappear. 

Would it be the same now that they knew her name? 

You know your time is limited. The merciful thing to do is surrender yourself. If you do, we can just end your life - not that of anyone you’ve fooled into becoming close to you.

The words hurt, it was true. But the vague nature of them was promising - they didn’t use any of her loved ones by name. They would use the names if they knew them.

We will find you. You will pay for your indiscretions. You did your work for us in exchange for us looking after you. But you refuse to hold up your end of the deal. And we are on your tail. Whatever you do, we will find you. Your time is running out.

- Scops.

Mia had been hoping to sleep, but instead, she pulled out a small bag with an undetectable extension charm on it. She, nevertheless, packed light - she left plenty of room for the bag to hide herself, too. She would need to lay low for a few days - hopefully, just a few days. She worried about what would happen if the letters were seen and the wrong wizard recognised her name - god, how worried might Quasi be if he found one?

Mia took a deep breath and carried the scroll to her window. She opened it, pointed her wand at it , as if letting herself and her wand memorise its contents. It was a distinct scroll with a distinct stamp, and she ran her wand across the length of it before exhaling shakily. She then pointed her wand at her window, casting a modified vanishing spell. Mia found herself holding her breath as she ripped off a little of the scroll and threw it out the window - and just like that, as it passed through the frame, it disappeared. She stuck her hand out after it, but it remained exactly as it had been. Just as a precaution, she grabbed a book and passed it through - it too, stayed in tact. All that disappeared was the scroll.

Thank god.

And so, Mia went around to every room, every outside window and door was shrouded in the spell. The letter shouldn’t be able to get in, at least not to the Three Broomsticks. The next day, after explaining to Quasi that she needed to go off on some landlady business for a few days and calling in every bit of help she had for running the kitchens and bar, she would leave in the dead of night and would spend most of the darkened hours casting the same spell on surrounding stores, passing small parts of the scroll through cracks in doors and slightly ajar windows to confirm the spell’s effectiveness. It worked every time - it was transfiguration, after all. 

And then she left. The landlady of the Three Broomsticks, missing for almost a week in Summer. Mild chaos ensued, but Mia was safe in [REDACTED]. And as soon as she came back, she tidied up the messes and problems just like always. She answered no questions, just like always. But, there was a little more fear in her eyes than was normal. She was a little jumpier, a little more wary. But she did her best to hide it.

Just like always.

#fhogself #im gonna tryyyyy to get some of mia's bio plot moving #at least a little

[fifibabette]

Finesse to Feathers || Grad

One minute, Fiona had been staring into the eyes of the headmistress, and the next, it was as if the floor had been ripped out from underneath her. Funny enough, that was all she could remember -- just the lack of floor, then a tight, dark, falling feeling, and then...nothing. No noise, no sensation, nothing to even suggest there was a spell taking place around her. It was as if the world she knew had been ripped to pieces, and Fiona was in an entirely new dimension all on her own.

“Ugh…” A soft grunt came from the depths of her chest as she peeled one eye open at a time. Her face must have been stuck in the most unappealing grimace, but Fiona chose to ignore that in favor of just looking around. She froze, narrowed her eyes, and pushed her lips into a confused purse.

What had happened to her? What was that spell? And where...where the hell was she? Fiona’s mind began to race, shooting off in a thousand different directions and just baffling her even further. Her breath came in shallow bursts. Fiona tried to push herself up from the ground, but abruptly found she couldn’t because she didn’t actually have arms anymore.

Fiona Babette did not have any arms.

“Merde!” the word flew from her lips. She craned her neck from side to side, trying to determine if she was just seeing things and her arms were still there, but no. There were no arms. There wasn’t much to see at all, really, aside from what looked like a skirt of feathers strewn across a vast marble surface. Her legs weren’t visible amid the plumes, but after careful introspection Fiona realized with a chill that those feathers were her legs. Somehow, using some miraculous core strength Fiona didn’t know she had, the girl shot upright and began to panic. She was completely, entirely limbless. And yet, there was a small part of her that was fine with this.

Call it a strange familiarity that Fiona could not place, or the tiny part of her mind that was begging her to be rational about all of this and figure out what the hell went wrong, the stillness was there and it was confusing her even more. It was like a tiny voice at the back of her head, pleading with her to understand that this was right, this was how it should be. Fiona, however, wasn’t having any of it, and was entirely ready for this exam to be over.

“I ‘ave to get out,” Fiona said to the air around her. There was something different about her voice. Something a lot more...French, and definitely a little hysterical. “I ‘ave to go back. I ‘ave to figure this out and get back to ‘Ogwarts and pretend nothing happened. If I get back I can just forget this and be normal and never think of this again, right? Right?”

The only response was the steadily accelerating sound of her breathing. And then there was a startling moment of clarity. Okay, Fiona thought to herself. She closed her eyes and just breathed for a second. Okay. Think. First, who -- or what -- am I?

The soon-to-be Hogwarts graduate took a look down at herself again. Though she could not withhold the slight cringe she knew she had, her eyes were for the most part open and willing to take in what was going on. As she saw before, she was perched on what looked like a surface of fine marble, the old, expensive kind she had seen old suitors use in their kitchens and fireside bars. It was cold beneath her, so despite her leglessness, she could still feel below her waist. Beyond the marble was a sharp lip leading into darkness, the surface ending behind her before curving off into the distance where an unclear, almost cylindrical form sat waiting, almost seeming to shine in the dimness. It looked as if she was on a platform of some variety, surrounded by shadow on all sides of her.

Fiona nodded nervously to herself, then took a moment to study the feathers that made up her lower half. They were long and black, their tips edging into a cream-like white that reached in thin veins towards the bulk of the mass. They may have been Ostrich feathers if not for their breadth and silhouette. Much like the hips of a woman, the feathers were thick and sharply curving towards what would have been Fiona’s waist, the ends of them coming together almost like a pair of legs pressed in at the knee. It was quite a pleasant shape to look at, if it weren’t for the fact that it belonged on a feather duster as opposed to a human woman like Fiona.

Alarm bells clamored to life in the back of her head. Fiona needed a mirror, and she needed one now. Her mind turned to the thing at the far end of the platform and, wobbling with every surge forward, Fiona started to move towards it. As she approached, the shadows seemed to melt away in lieu of a faint pulsing light, coming from the object itself. Fiona squinted. What stood before her looked like a glass bird cage almost, except the bars were solid glass and it held no bird inside. Instead, there floated a glowing, wilting rose, its discarded petals lying dormant at the end of the stem.

Fiona inched closer. The rose took her breath away, but the way it was just...dying made her ache so badly inside. It was a longing, a familiar pinch of something she didn’t understand. And there, in the reflection she was beginning to see, there was so much pain…

“Ah, such a sad face, mademoiselle…”

She froze, reverie shattering around her. Over her shoulder, another glow had appeared, then divided itself into two more that then presented themselves to be...a candlestick? With a face? And beside it -- him? -- was another face, a female face, cream colored and attached to a long, wooden neck ending in the plumes Fiona had seen before. And in that face were eyes that looked so much like hers, and yet...completely different. They couldn’t be hers, right? Especially since they were attached to a living, breathing, magic feather duster that just couldn’t exist, even in the world of Hogwarts. Man, this was one hell of an exam.

The candlestick man was now right behind her. Before she could move away, she could feel the wax of his lips on her neck, hear the buzzing of his chuckles low in her ears, and feel the heat from his flames against her sides. He pressed the metal of his frame against the back of her feathers. Fiona let out a strangled retort.

Leaping back, the candlestick seemed almost hurt. “Oh non, oh dear, did I do something again? Oh Babette, oh Fifi, I know I ‘ave burned you before, but please. You ‘ave to know it was an accident -- “ He moved towards her again, but Fi backed away faster than she could blink. And then she just stared. “You know my name?” He scrunched up his wax eyebrows, eyes shadowed beneath their mass. “Of course, cherie! We’ve known each other for years. We’ve known each other quite well, if you know what I mean.” Those heavy, waxy brows wiggled suggestively.

Fiona nearly heaved, but even despite her confusion, she knew playing along may be the best option she had. “Oh -- of course. Something must ‘ave gotten into me. Do forgive me, er…” The candle’s expression melted into one of knowing kindness. “Ah, Lumiere understands. In the light of the rose, everything is off. Everything is different.” He wrapped his candlestick arms around the middle of Fi’s handle...waist...thing, and she had to coach herself not to flinch or go into a panic. This Lumiere continued, “With every petal that falls, I cannot help but think about the golden years, non? When we were still human, and the Master was, well...not a beast. We ‘ad fun back then. Every day was grand.” 

The alarm bells were back. She craned around, looking Lumiere dead in the face. He had very pretty eyes, she noticed, and the warmth from his flickering flame was comforting...but she was on a mission. “We were human before? I mean -- of course, we were. With arms and legs and bodies that looked like human bodies. Perfect, normal, human bodies.” Lumiere nodded, then passed her a wry wink. “And what a body yours was.”

Fiona felt her cheeks warm, then shook her head, startled at herself. “I -- merci? I think? You flatter me so, monsieur. But I do think you should tell me more about our...our human selves. I do enjoy listening to you talk.” She was even more startled to feel she somewhat meant it.

“Ah, well it would be my pleasure then,” the other continued. In a fluid motion, he spun her from him, then guided her with a flame at her back to sit at the lip of the platform. As Lumiere gestured into the blackness surrounding them, a glob of wax fell from his arm and tumbled down into the depths. Fiona leaned over to watch it fall, then swallowed hard and scooted back a few feet. “Once upon a time, in a land far away, there lived a ‘andsome prince and his dutiful staff. We -- as you know -- were among those staff, but we spent quite a lot of our time doing...other things.”

Fiona nodded, trying not to look too interested as the candlestick man winked once again. What was happening to her, getting all doe-eyed over this wax abomination? And why was she sitting here listening to him when she should be figuring out why the examiners turned her into a feather duster with no instructions on how to get back? Lumiere was still speaking. “One day, a strange woman came to our castle. She spoke to our Master, but he was not very kind at all to her, and I fear she took this very hard. She cast a curse on the Master and his castle, and everyone in the Master’s service was cursed alongside him. And that lady said to Master, ‘Until a woman can love you for who you are, you shall forever look and be a Beast.’”

“Oh,” Fi said. The story...something about it stirred something deep inside of her. She closed her eyes and leaned closer to Lumiere, her mind churning a thousand thoughts out at once. The candlestick gave a soft sound of understanding and wrapped an arm around her plumes. Fiona relaxed against him, and it just felt...right. “I never understood why you liked to ‘ear the story so often,” he mused. His breath tickled her ear. “Though I suppose it helps to keep it fresh in your mind, just in case a girl shows up to change our world.” Fiona laughed softly. “I think my world has been changed enough already today.” 

“Ah, is that so?” Lumiere’s lips were on the side of her face. Something jangled inside her, but for some reason Fiona did not pull away. “Well, you ‘ave been avoiding me lately. Perhaps a little catching up will make you feel better. I promise to be careful with the fire this time.”

“Mm…” She felt her eyes start to close, her face turn slowly towards him. He leaned closer himself, his heat unavoidable against her sides, and Fiona leaned in deeper even though she knew it wasn’t right…

And then the door crashed open against the far wall, and the pair leaped apart. A thunderous howl pelted Fiona’s ears. She floundered and shoved Lumiere away in the process as a hulking, furred figure approached with loathing in its eyes. All Fiona could look at was its teeth as Lumiere gasped, starting into a ramble as to why they were there and why the figure shouldn’t be upset, all of which Fi did not catch as she scrambled to put distance between herself and the newcomer. Its maw began to part just as she backed into the edge of the platform. One of her feathers caught on the edge and, much like a spring, catapulted her backwards when she moved too quickly to free it.

And then she was falling, that feeling from the start of the exam rising in her gut, a scream on her lips as the world sped up around her. She was falling, she was going to die, and Lumiere would be all alone --

Then it was over. Fiona gasped and opened her eyes wide as cheers roared around her, assaulting her from all sides as she staggered back from the lip of the stage. Lights pulsed onto her face, blinding and hot, and beyond them the faces of several examiners nodded in approval. Her heart ached, but somehow it was a sweet ache, like a forgotten memory that she wanted to get back no matter how much she tried...but it was gone now. It, and all recollection of what had just happened.

“W...what?” Fiona breathed. A hand pressed into the small of her back and steered her from the stage. Confused, she looked up into the face of her guide. “What just happened?”

The man offered a dazzling smile and shrugged. “You passed your final exam.”

#fhwcgrad #fhogself #para:closed