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#his own life had been given to Dumbledore to do as he saw fit
evilbeanghost · 3 years
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The fact that there are some people firmly believing that Severus Snape knew all along that Peter Pettigrew was the secret keeper and didn’t say anything out of a sense of vengeance towards Sirius Black is baffling to me... and quite telling when it comes to how much people don’t get Severus Snape as a character. 
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if carlisle and dumbledore were put in each other's respective stories / dilemmas , how do you think they would react? how would a carlisle cullen have dealt with voldemort/grindelwald? and how dumbledore would have dealt with vampirism, etc? i almost view the two of them as a sort of foil to each other, not yet able to articulate why or how though
I mean, they'd live completely different lives, because they're completely different characters. It's very unlikely they'd end up in the same situations.
But alright.
Carlisle is Dumbledore
Carlisle's born in a working class family that quickly begins to fall apart. His father's sent to prison, his mother dies, his sister has a chronic illness that will never disappear, and it's just him and his brother left with very little chance of a future between them.
Handsome Gellert Grindelwald moves in next store with grand, new, ideas concerning the muggles.
Now, this particular Carlisle won't be Christian, he's a pureblood wizard and we can pretty safely assume that the Dumbledores were no more religious than any other wizarding family is.
It's a little up in the air whether Carlisle would be seduced by Gellert or not. Gellert is learned, foreign, and has all these radical, new, theories that weren't very prevalent at the time (well, anti muggleborn sentiment was, the facism was new). On the other hand though, Carlisle is also a man who once radically changed his own beliefs to something that went against nearly every edict of his previous religion. This is not a guy who takes things for granted and is not afraid to both confront himself and the true nature of the world he lives in.
And he has a deep respect for human life that, had it been any lesser, would have undoubtedly led to him eating humans as a vampire.
So, I'm going to say no, or if he does, it lasts up until Gellert says, "We should totally make the muggles our slaves." The muggles may have irreparably damaged Carlisle's sister, they may be hated by society, but they are free thinking beings who should be enslaved to no one. Carlsile raises his pacifism flag.
As a result, Gellert probably thinks he's a tool. Hot, of course, and intelligent, but a useless tool. Without somebody to bounce ideas off of/confirm his radicalization, Gellert has little to no interest in Carlisle or any of the Dumbledores. Gellert spends his time in Godric's Hollow then goes elsewhere, Ariana lives, at least for now, unclear how long her lifespan was going to be otherwise, Carlisle does not have the Gellert incident, and he and Abeforth remain on good terms.
Carlisle graduates Hogwarts and either is a) bullied into taking Flamel's apprenticeship opportunity by Abeforth who screams "DUDE, GET YOURSELF A FUTURE or b) immediately sets about trying to find a relatively high paying job so he can support the family. In the case of B, I imagine he goes to work for the goblins who seem to hire those straight out of Hogwarts with good enough grades. In the case of A, well, he goes to study alchemy.
Knowing Carlisle, he does a bastardization of both. He studies alchemy under Flamel and then works nights as a bartender in Paris or something to that effect. When he finishes, what career he does then is out in the air.
Given that, as a vampire, he had all the choices in the world open to him in terms of education (and tried many different things) before eventually settling on and sticking with human medicine despite the dangers, I think that's telling. Carlisle probably tries to get a job in something healing related.
However, that strays more into the "What if Carlisle was in the wizarding world" vs. "What if Carlisle was Dumbledore" so we'll say that the idea of teaching appeals to him and he returns to Hogwarts for the Transfiguration position.
This all goes well except then there's a first world war on, the muggle world goes completely insane, and no one understands why Carlisle's so upset.
And now we enter the world where Carlisle starts really making choices in Dumbledore's shoes.
First, Tom Riddle. Carlisle, I imagine, makes 100,000 times of a better impression than Dumbledore on the young Tom. He does not, for one, light his wardrobe on fire and threaten him. Carlisle might think this kid is weird, but he lives in poverty and an orphanage, much of his behavior can be explained from that. I imagine Carlisle becomes determined to take Tom under his wing.
I imagine at first Tom thinks this is excellent, LOOK HOW MUCH HE'S MANIPULATING THIS ADULT! And then he realizes that, no, Carlisle is perfectly aware he's a little shit. He just likes talking to Tom after classes about how to fit in with pureblood society/weird esoteric muggle philosophy.
Trouble is, Carlisle is so damn likeable (see his friends all over the world), that Tom can't help but like him. When the Blitz begins, and Carlisle undoubtedly offers Tom (and any other muggleborn who was not moved to the country) a place to stay, that seals the deal, the wizarding world might suck but Carlisle's a pretty cool guy.
Of course, Tom still thinks the government should be reformed or overthrown, but he and Carlisle actually sit down to talk about things like communism and facism (Carlisle's not a fan though the modern, muggle, form of democracy not practiced in the wizarding world is a weird concept to him).
My point being, it's unlikely this Tom Riddle becomes Voldemort or even really aspires to become him. You want more on that topic, check out these posts.
Grindelwald meanwhile, becomes a bigger and bigger deal, and things start looking... bad. However, it's not immediately obvious that Carlisle's the one who should do something about it. He's not a duelist, he's a professor, and his job is to teach the children. He may have been alright in school, but that was decades ago now. More, unlike Albus, he feels no personal responsibility, he knew Gellert, briefly, yes, but they had no real connection. Gellert spoke about insane things and Carlisle said, "Mm, don't like". Add to that that Carlisle's a pacifist, he's going to insist that someone trained for the position do the job.
Given canon, this means that Grindelwald likely invades and takes over wizarding England and, with a strong enough foothold, enacts his "enslave the muggles" plan. Which very well might result in a nuclear holocaust as Grindelwald was likely not keeping up with muggle technology and the muggle world war.
The muggle world collapses, which in turn causes society collapse, and the world may or may not be a nuclear wasteland that Tom and Carlisle get to wander around.
If Carlisle by some divine intervention has a prophetic dream of "YOU MUST DEFEAT GRINDELWALD OR DOOM DOOM DOOM" then he goes and tries to defeat Grindelwald. Considering Grindelwald has the elder wand, he probably needs Deus ex Phoenix to win, but if it worked for Dumbledore it might work for Carlisle.
Well. No one saw that coming.
Carlisle's an overnight sensation and a national hero, the hero of Western Europe even. He's suddenly being presented medals, honors, seats of power, and Carlisle desperately tries to refuse, feeling very squeamish that he's being given these things because he took it upon himself to murder another human being (yes, even a war lord).
Tom finds this funny and Abeforth is ureservedly proud and tells everybody.
All Carlisle wanted to do was teach children and now he has to reside over trials in the Wizengamot. This is terrible.
As for what happens to the wizarding world from there, well, inertia probably carries it along for a good while. However, antimuggleborn sentiment is still on the rise an even without Voldemort I imagine there's quite a bit of unrest.
I imagine Carlisle, not wanting in any way to be a political figure, is not nearly as outspoken as Dumbledore on anything. He just wants to be headmaster, guys, leave him alone.
Tom may or may not go into politics and do it for him. But he probably ends up teaching too and just laughs as the country collapses.
Harry Potter is an ordinary student who has no prophecy surrounding him. Carlisle did not recruit children to join an illegal resistance movement nor does he have a plethora of spies and moles in the ministry.
Harry Potter canon does not happen.
Dumbledore is Carlisle
Well, Dumbledore undoubtedly also burned witches and very much believed in their existence. An irony there. He may chase the vampire, probably isn't first in the mob, in which case he remains human or dies.
If he does survive being bitten, I imagine it pains him for a while, but I don't see Albus having the same willpower as Carlisle. Or at least, not as much, Albus probably ends up eating people. He at first probably tries to be picky and eats those who harm society in some way (pick your poison for what that means) and then over time becomes less picky.
They're just humans, after all.
Albus probably isn't invited to stay in Volterra, he's not all that interesting. He doesn't become a human doctor, he's just your ordinary vampire. He might hang around libraries as much as he can but that's about as far as that extends.
He probably turns a Gellert equivalent at some point as a mate and they have a grand time together.
Edward is never turned nor the rest of the Cullens and Bella dies in a parking lot.
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theseusurus · 3 years
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Lost in a Haze, Fighting Fate | Part 1.
Summary: Y/N Raven has always suffered from their sight, From a young age Y/N could just always seem to predict the future however they just thought they were lucky, after attending Hogwarts and discovering their Seer Roots they began to trust it more and more however that can not be said for others. When Y/N fled Hogwarts they left everything behind, their teen love, their friends, family, and now with what seems like all sides against them, will they be ignored like seers before them and feed into temptation or will they fight for the good in the wizarding world and their love?
PART 1: THE RETURN OF THE ORACLE
Warnings: Mentions Bullying
Pairing: Bill Weasley x Reader (Slow Burn)
Word Count: 2.8k
The Abraxan Pulled Blue carriage creaked with life for what seemed like the thousandth time tonight as you sat with Madame Maxine -Olympe- as she wanted you to call her as you now were a professor and the students.
You fidgeted with your hands and sighed as you fixed the navy veil that covered your face and made sure to smooth out the silky navy uniform decorated with thousands of moving and dancing stars and constellations that Olympe had made just for you after she had promoted you to Head divination master.
Olympe sighed and placed a hand on yours before bending down and smoothing out your veil.
¨Little Star, you must calm down, you are antsier than the Abraxans before they've had their whiskey¨
She said with a laugh before seeing your still grim face under the veil, though the veil was hard to see through and hexed so only those who you wished could see under it she had grown able to tell your expressions with it. She sighed again and smoothed down your hair that stuck out from under your veil,
¨I know your time at Hogwarts was hard petite étoile, but little star you must not let zem ruin your time, look at you now! A Leading star of the divination field and one of the best seers in Europe! They regret never treating a shining star like you as what you are now! We will win this tournament and be a beacon of excellence and poise and that goes for all of you!¨
The students looked up and smiled at you before saying a cheer in French that left you a bit confused but in a better spirit, though you've been teaching at Beauxbaton for three years now you still struggled a bit with your french however many students struggled with English so in your class you all tried your best and the first year you all struggled together to communicate with the language barrier.
The boys and girls who had volunteered to come to the Triwizard tournament were some of your favorites, especially Fleur and her sister Gabrielle who had been the firsts to volunteer especially since they had never been to Hogwarts especially Scotland before and had heard your stories of the beautiful castle and breathtaking view.
¨We are almost there. Everyone, be ready, I want you all to be on your best behavior, am I understood? I want backs straight, smiles big and you all are ready? Come, come, I will check your uniforms one last time, Oh Fleur come here sweetie your hat! Oh, you all look amazing, oh I am about to cry, how proud you all make me!¨
Olympe looked three seconds from crying before You handed her your handkerchief and rubbed her back,
¨Oh Olympe, I know, don't cry remember we must be nothing but big smiles remember? We are going to blow them away! Oh yes everyone make sure to not flutter your capes too much until the entrance we don't want to let the Butterflies out too early¨
The girls nodded eagerly some talking to each other, whispering about things you can only imagine, some topics sticking out you could hear over the giggling, while the boys were helping each other straighten out their uniforms and mentioned durmstrang especially the girls which caused you to let out a little laugh which caused the boys to look up and fluster.
With that, you heard a loud voice and peaked out the window and saw Hagrid leading the Abraxan horses down the landing area and clapped excitedly. Before the Carriage landed harshly on the runway causing you to jolt before and fixing the beret on your head and standing.
You clapped happily before popping the Carriage door open, launching yourself out the door and falling feet first on the wet Scottish Grass and laughing as you helped up the students one at a time out of the carriage as they plopped down as well and complained about how the wet grass was sticking to their newly waxed shoes.
Hagrid rushed over and smiled as you helped Madam Maxine out of the carriage, her true height showing as she exited the carriage, she stood proud and tall over Hagrid and smiled as he turned Rosey and blushed at her before bending down and kissing her hand.
He began welcoming her with a shaky voice that seemed more fit for one of the first-year students rather than the tall bearded half-giant.
You smiled under your veil clearing your throat, before speaking in a thick French Accent that made a few of your students turn and give you a questioning look, all-knowing you were originally English and knew hell barely spoke a quarter of the french language.
“excusez Moi Monsieur, where iz my classroom, Madame Maxine was promised I would be given a room to perform my services during my stay”
Hagrid nodded excitedly and began to lead you, Olympe, and the students to the castle.
¨Yes, yes! They Are finishing it up now! We are all excited to see your work Professor, especially Professor Trelawney, she has been a big fan for a while you know.¨
You simply shake your head and smile, though you doubt anyone could see it under your veil, Trelawney was one of your favorite professors to have during your short time at Hogwarts, she was one of the few people excited that you were a Seer and was very supportive of you during your time, especially during the constant bullying you faced in your youth, that reminds you did have to thank her for that.
¨Oui, I bet they sure are Monsieur, however, it iz getting a bit late, shall we head to ze castle, I am how you say uh heureux?¨ ¨Happy?¨ A student chirped, ¨Ah Yes Happy! I Can not wait to see all the new faces! Come, Children follow the gentil géant, Let's Go, shall we? Oui?¨
With that, you Nodded at Hagrid as you turned back to the Carriage and pulled out a Black carry on Trunk from the space under your seat and slammed the carriage while Knocking on the door and yelling ¨Vous êtes doué!” before the Carriage shot off towards the castle as you turned back to Hagrid and started following him towards the Castle, the one that you once called home.
You and the students of both schools, your own and Durmstrang, were preparing to be announced and called in by Dumbledore and could quite clearly hear the students of Hogwarts gossiping amongst themselves, while you listened carefully against the door you could hear some of the Durmstrang students flirting with your students,
you Cleared your throat loudly which caused the Durmstrang girls to drop the poor 3rd-year boy that they were flirting with, he shot you a smile which you responded with a nod before you heard Dumbledore getting ready to introduce you all, You gathered up your students along with Olympe.
“Remember what we practiced everyone, Grab your partner, chop-chop! He is about to announce us, remember to release the butterflies at the dip!” “For Now please join me in Welcoming The Lovely students of Beauxbaton Academy of Magic and their Head Master, Madam Maxine, along with their Professor, and Head Seer Delphi!”
With that, the First Row of partners pushed open the door and walked out, arm and arm. Students of all kinds became locked in an intricate dance, twirling and spinning one another looking like Ballerinas straight from a performance dressed in baby blue silk.
Row by row they walked out and once they reached the end of the Tables, they Dipped their partners as Baby blue butterflies spilled out from under their capes leaving, most students stunned, muttering to one another about how beautiful the students looked before Olympe and you walked out.
You walked side by side with Olympe as she admired the students staring with a smirk before looking down at you, as you walked beside her your cape was shimmering and waving the constellations on it with each step before they reached the end of the cape and popped out shooting out constellations and stars all around you and Olympe before they swirled around you at your shoulders and slid down the cape again, your veil and lack of Face or even identity was obviously causing an issue with the Hogwarts students.
You both reached the end of the tables before bowing your heads to the clapping students as your students all did a curtsy at their new classmates for the tournament. You saw Dumbledore placing a kiss on Olympe’s hand before turning to place one on your gloved hand causing you to draw it back and make a face a disgust even though no one could see which was funny to your students apparently as they turned and laughed quietly behind their hands from the sides of the Great Hall where you joined them before dumbledore ran back to his Stand to announce Durmstrang.
“Now Please Treat the Proud Students of Durmstrang and their high master, Igor Karkaroff
With that welcome, the Durmstrang Students walked in all carrying staffs tapping them in a rhythm and grunting? Singing? You didn’t know how to describe it along to the beat, as each staff hit the ground they produced a light spark before they began to sprint and do tricks with their staffs before Viktor Krum and the Headmaster walked in and as they reached the end of the tables released a fire phoenix that surrounded him before shooting off into the roof and disappearing leaving you highly impressed with the effort of their performance.
Dumbledore lifted his arms and embraced Igor as he smiled and called for Dumbledore-albus? Who knows as they laughed and embraced each other once more.
¨Hogwarts! Let's entertain our friends in the best way we can! Everyone stand!”
Dumbledore led the Children of Hogwarts in song which with the off-key voices and the interesting choice of words including Hoggy hoggy Hogwarts in was rather confusing, the students and headmasters along with yourself looked rather confused and muttered amongst yourselves as the Hogwarts school continued their song.
As the Song finished Dumbledore announced to the students to sit wherever they would like among the four tables and mingle with another as he led you and the headmasters to the Professor’s table. You sat In Between Olympe and Igor as you sat in your chair you heard Olympe talking to Dumbledore.
¨Professor Dumbley-dore my horses have traveled a long way they will need attending to!¨
¨Surely Madame Maxine! Our Gatekeeper Hagrid is more than capable!¨ Hagrid smiled to himself and nodded at Dumbledore´s praise earning a chuckle from you and a nudge from Olympe.
¨As you know Monsieur Hagrid, they drink only single malt whiskey¨
Hagrid nodded excitedly before going down to get a bite of his food and missing his plate and stabbing his associate´s hand instead causing said professor to yell and call him an idiot, causing Hagrid to hang his head embarrassed.
As Dumbledore continued his speech about eternal glory and greatness, a storm had begun to brew on the mirroring roof with thick thunder and lightning sparking around the room some students had begun to scream causing a panic, you had just started to shush them and try and calm them down when it was shut down when Alastor Moody walked into the room and cleared it.
You could hear students beginning to mutter amongst themselves at the entrance of the man, you simply looked his way before turning to Olympe and whispering up to her as you both watched Moody walk around the room and be greeted by Dumbledore.
¨Madame that man is a walking travesty, did Dumbledore warn you about him being here?¨ ¨Of course, not dear, that old man does very little to warn us about his surprises it seems.¨
You both gave a look of disgust as you watch Moody turn his back to the children and tag a swig out of his flask, ¨Nothing but a damn drunk nowadays Olympe.¨
You watch as The minister and Dumbledore announce the Goblet of Fire and announce no one under 17 may participate, giving you some ease as many of your students were under 17. You however have grown tired from the long trip and all the worries of the day so you stood from the table rubbing at your temples over your veil and sighing, grabbing attention from everyone but mainly from Moody and Olympe.
Olympe shoots you a questioning look but you just shake your head and begin heading down the tables leaving a train of stars as you go from your robes, the stars swirling around you before floating towards students and popping with clusters of glitter following it and you could hear someone, who you assume is Moody, following you down the Great hall.
Quickly you started sprinting through the halls as you follow the instructions hagrid gave you hearing the footsteps beginning to catch up as you reach the door you rush and shut the door before they, whoever they are, can touch you.
PART 2
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runningtwiceasfast · 3 years
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I’ve Never Not Wanted You
This is my contribution to the Hinny Ficfest organized by the wonderful @clarensjoy - Thank you for organizing and for the fantastic contributions. I haven’t published a fic in awhile and this one is very not proofread and rough but I wanted desperately to contribute something. I hope you don’t mind this one is under the wire! Eventually I will post a cleaned up version on AO3, but in the meantime I hope you enjoy!
Prompt: “I’ve never not wanted you”
“You have to come to dinner tonight. Mum has invited another suitor and we are all going to want to watch the bloodbath.” Ron’s mouth was full of curry, so it was hard to make out exactly what he meant, but the gist was an invite for dinner.
Harry scowled in response and pushed his food away from him, suddenly having lost his appetite.
“When will Molly stop? After Ginny has killed someone?”
Ron gave a barking laugh. “Maybe. It’s hard to stop a determined Weasley though.”
“So, who is more determined? Molly to marry Ginny off or Ginny to resist?” Harry wondered out loud, still staring at his noodles as if they had offended him.
Shrugging, Ron reached over and helped himself to Harry’s discarded lunch. “Mum just wants Ginny to be happy. Wizards marry pretty young in our world and everyone else has mostly coupled off,” Ron pointed his chopsticks at Harry. “Well, except you mate.”
Harry frowned.
“I’ve been busy,” he finally said, and Ron gave a series of nods.
“Of course. Ridding the world of unstoppable evil and what not. I’m sure that’s why Mum is focused on Ginny and not you.”
“That’s a bit of a double standard, isn’t it?” Harry asked, irritated at the way the conversation had changed. The last thing he wanted to talk about was his sorry dating life. Or Ginny’s for that matter.
“The entire wizarding world is a double standard innit? Best to just make the best to just make the best of it and enjoy the show.”
Harry merely gave a small noise of assent, turning back to his noodles to find them completely gone. He looked up at Ron’s sheepish look.
“I thought you were done.”
_*_*_*_*_*_*_
Avoiding the floo network entirely, Harry opted to apparate to the Burrow, pausing outside the familiar door to collect his thoughts.
Using his free hand, he smoothed down his shirt and jeans, his other hand grasping the bottle of red wine Arthur had mentioned he liked the last time they had dined together at Grimmauld Place. He rose his hand to knock, but the door swung open before his fist even made contact.
“Harry! You’ve come to save me!” Harry was rather unprepared for the sight of Ginny, fresh faced and beautiful, greeting him at the door and found himself unable to say much of anything other than a grumbled hello as he shoved the bottle of wine at her.
She was wearing a simple black cotton dress that hugged her waist and flared out at the bottom. Her hair was down and bouncing around her shoulders. He gestured stupidly at his ears.
“You are wearing the earrings.”
She gave a tinkling laugh and pushed her hair behind her ear so he could see more clearly the diamond studs that he had given her last Christmas. “I’ve practically never taken them off. They are gorgeous. Probably one of the best gifts I’ve ever gotten.” She smiled at him sincerely and he felt his heart rate accelerate uncomfortably.
“I’m glad you like them so much.” He smiled back at her and they remained that way, smiling at each other silently before Ginny was called rather abruptly from the other room.
She gave a grimace in response. “She’s invited Ernie Macmillan over can you believe it? Him and Hermione are currently fighting over some horribly boring historical fact in the other room and she expects me to marry this man?” She rolled her eyes and Harry gave a weak laugh in response.
Learning up, she gave him a light kiss on the cheek, her hand resting on his arm. “It’s so lovely to see you, Harry. Please feel free to rescue me from inane conversation as you see fit.”
She floated away and he stood there struck rather dumb for a few moments.
Following the trail of voices from the entryway, Harry entered the living area to various greetings. It appeared he was one of the last to arrive and he grabbed a butterbeer and joined in where Ron and George were huddled together by the fireplace.
“I think the formula is off. People shouldn’t be incapacitated. Just unconscious for a short while.”
George shook his head. “They are fine if you just poke them—Harry! You’ve come to join us!” George gave him a broad smile that Harry couldn’t help but reciprocate.
“Is this for something you’ve already invented, or you have created something else to wreak havoc on the wizarding public?”
“Harry my dear boy, I’m not sure why it can’t be both,” George said sincerely causing Harry to snort into his bottle.
Ginny’s laughter brought their attention to where she was standing in the center of the room with Ernie.
Ron frowned. “Maybe mum actually found a winner.”
They watched as Ginny laughed again at something Ernie said, her hand placed on his arm.
“Apparently he works with Percy. Probably in the Department of who has the biggest stick up their arse,” George laughed to himself.
Harry frowned as he watched Ernie with his patrician features and pedigree push a tendril of crimson hair behind Ginny’s ear causing her to blush.
“What did that bottle do to you mate?” Ron joked and Harry looked down at the tight grip he was maintaining on his butterbeer. He loosened his grip and stretched his fingers.
Molly’s appearance in the room quieted most conversations as she herded everyone into the dining area where amazing smells were wafting. It required gymnastics in order for everyone to get into the magically enhanced room.
“No no Ginny. Don’t sit there. Sit over here by Ernie,” Molly smiled warmly at the tall boy. Ernie smiled back in a way that made Harry’s hand flinch towards his wand, imagining all the new curses he had recently mastered in his second year auror training.
“Mum it took me straining my hop to even get a seat. I’m going to stay right here,” she turned to Harry who suddenly realized how close she was. “You are ok with that right Harry?” Her eyes widened slightly and he managed to cotton on.
“Er yes sorry Molly. Ginny is fine here.” She gave him a brilliant smile and nudged his shoulder with hers.
“I think I’ve lost some of my brain cells.” Harry had to resist flinching as he felt her breath brush his hair as Ginny leaned over and whispered to him.
He gave a tight-lipped smile. “You seemed rather fond of this one,” he whispered in return to her causing her to wave a hand at him dismissively.
“I’m just trying to be nice. If I hex this one she will just bring in someone worse. I heard Malfoy was keen,” she gave a dramatic shiver, her impish smile telling another story.
Harry felt a rush of relief he tried not to analyze. “Molly can keep on bringing by all the unsuitable young men of the English wizarding world if it means I get to sit next to you.” The words are soft and filled with way too much feeling and for one frightening heartbeat he wished he could take them back.
She remained silent, grabbing a dinner roll form the passed tray and fidgeting with it between her hands. “Harry, you shouldn’t say such things to me,” she finally said mildly, refusing to look at him. “I might start getting ideas.”
Impulsively he reached for one of her hands, forcing her to drop the bread. He pulled her hand under the table and squeezed it gently.
They sat with hands clasped under the table, but otherwise ignoring each other, answering direct questions but otherwise staying mostly silent. Harry thought he saw Ginny’s face was rather shiny and he wondered what he looked like. Probably pale white and sickly.
“Ginny, how goes the season? Should I be placing my Harpy’s bets now?” Ernie asked Ginny directly causing her to drop Harry’s hand and inhale shakily.
“Oh, I’m just reserve for now. But a bet on the Harpies is always a safe bet,” Ginny gave a wicked smile causing the table to collectively give a ruckus laugh.
“Ernie, you know Ginny is the youngest reserve chaser in the league,” Molly boasted, and Harry noticed Ginny resist rolling her eyes.
“Mum, I’m so glad you support my career choice now.” The words were biting but the soft look in her eyes made Harry think Ginny actually meant them.
Harry stole a look at Justin. To his disgust the boy was looking at Ginny rather starry eyed. It isn’t like Harry could blame him; a similar look frequently graced his own face.
He was rather sick of it all though. The constant parade of unworthy men being thrust at Ginny.
The rather petulant thought that Molly had never asked him to be one of those unworthy men flew through his brain unhelpfully. Perhaps everyone had given up on the possibility of him and Ginny ever making it work.
They had made it work though. For a few blissful months they had been something new and delicate and untouchable. Frequently Harry thought back to some of those times. Of walks around the school, hands clasped and of breathless goodbyes leaving them both wanting and late for class.
Ever since the war Harry had been trying to pick up the pieces, but it had been hard and often he had found himself rather aimless. Without even realizing it, he had found that he had pulled back on all the ties that bound him-rarely coming by the Burrow, never seeing friends other than around the office and busying himself with work and tracking down rogue Death Eaters.
He had finally looked up and while he had stayed in the same spot, everyone else had moved on. Ron had ditched the aurors and found his calling with George in the joke shop. Hermione had proven herself immensely capable apart from him in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement.
And Ginny had graduated from Hogwarts and immediately absconded to Harpy training camp.
Unfortunately, in all his chosen one lessons with Dumbledore, the wise wizard had never told him what happens after the bad guy has been slain. What happens to the chosen one when he’s done being chosen?
In this instance it seemed as if Harry was doomed to sit there and watch as everyone he loved moved on without him. Bitterly he looked down at the roast on his plate, moving the discarded pees around with his fork.
“You gonna finish that?” Harry looked up to find he was almost done at the table, Ron leaning over him, fork in hand.
Scowling, Harry pushed his plate towards Ron who tucked in happily. “Ernie left a bit ago,” Ron said, in between bites. Harry’s eyes snapped up at that.
“Why would I care whether or not Ernie had left?” Harry snarked at him, frowning when Ron paused his eating to give Harry a knowing look.
“Either way, Ginny is in the backyard if you want to talk to her,” Ron scooped up some mashed potatoes. “Or not.” He shrugged.
Harry pushed away from the table and paused in front of the living room. He could hear the rest of the Weasley’s making their normal noises and he hesitated before joining, his eyes straying to the backyard where Ron had said Ginny was.
Whatever gravitational pull Ginny had made the decision for him as Harry turned and slipped out the door.
She was silhouetted against the starry sky, the light of the moon reflecting off her hair in a way that made his throat dry. He approached her slowly and she turned at his footsteps, giving him a warm smile.
“I came out to get some fresh air,” she told him unnecessarily and he plopped down next to her, his arm brushing hers. “These family gatherings can be a lot,” she said, her voice so quiet he could barely hear her, but that’s probably more to do with the quick sound of his heartbeat in his ears.
Feeling that same impulsive urge he had felt during dinner that let him hold her hand, he lifted his arm up and over her shoulders. They both froze at the contact, but before he could regret it, she leaned in, setting her head on his shoulder.
“Where did Ernie go?” Harry asked eventually, that familiar monster roaring in his chest.
Ginny leaned even further into his side. “He got an owl, had to go into the office.” Her hair brushed against his neck and he caught a whiff of her comforting flower scent that hadn’t changed since sixth year.
“Did you want him to stay?” He asked her, the darkness giving him some sort of courage.
She shook her head. “Not really. He wasn’t as bad as the other’s, but he’s not really who I want,” she said, voice low and husky.
Finally, she sighed deeply and pulled away, pulling her knees under the skirt of her dress and into her stomach.
“At least he seemed to want me,” she mumbled, and Harry took a deep breath, tired of always waiting for the right moment.
“I’ve never not wanted you, Ginny.”
Amazingly, the words didn’t sound weak or pathetic out loud like they did in his head. Instead, all he felt was relief.
The sound of a sharp intake of breath was the only indication that he had been heard. Summoning his Gryffindor courage, he looked up at Ginny. She was staring at him, eyes wide.
“You want me?” She asked finally, incredulously.
He ran a hand through his hair nervously. “Watching your mum parade those boys in front of you has been a special kind of hell for me Gin. I miss you.” They aren’t the most eloquent words, but they are the ones he had.
“Then why didn’t you say anything, you stupid arse?” Ginny finally spit out and Harry let out a choke of laughter.
“I’m an idiot?” He told her helpfully and she shook her head, a fond smile on her face.
“Can you come closer Harry? I need to smack you,” she laughed, and Harry obliged, scooting back towards her until there was no space between them, his body tingling in anticipation.
“So no more set ups from your mum?” He asked, moving his face toward hers so close he could feel each breath she took, could count the freckles on her face from just the soft light of the stars.
“Harry I can confidently tell you I will no longer let my mum dictate my romantic life from here on out,” she giggled and Harry fought the smile that threatened to climb up his cheeks.
“Harry,” she said, drawing his attention back to her and her lips.
“Yes?”
“I’ve never not wanted you to kiss me,” she said before closing the small gap between them, her soft, sweet lips under his. Suddenly all the pining and scowling became worth it as he rolled them over, her body under his, molding to each other as if reminding him that they’ve done this before.
As he kissed and kissed her, lips trailing down her neck, he sent a silent thank you to whatever work emergency had claimed Ernie’s attention. Tonight and forever Ginny was his. And he set about showing her over and over.
_*_*_*_*_*_*_
“Ernie Macmillan? Really?” Ron took a noisy bite of his biscuit.
“I don’t know what you are talking about, Ronald,” Molly tutted, waiving her wand so the corresponding feather duster would wipe down the windows properly.
“I just want you to know that I know what you did,” Ron shrugged, gesturing out the window Molly was cleaning to where Harry and Ginny were clearly engaged in some unwholesome activities.
Molly smiled at the image the pair made before closing the curtain and turning back towards her youngest son.
“Don’t you have your own home?” He lifted his hands in surrender before leaving the room. Molly watched as he disappeared from view. Really, what was she supposed to do? Let them pine away for each other forever? No, she did the right thing. She did feel a little bad poor Ernie would have to go all the way into work to find that emergency cauldron bottom situation wasn’t quite the emergency that ministry owl had made it seem. But the boy had gotten a home cooked meal for dinner so he surely made out alright.
Smiling one more time to herself, a very satisfied Molly Weasley set about cleaning dishes, brainstorming how she might next get Percy to dinner along with that nice young man Oliver Wood.
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So I wrote this last night while wondering if things could have turned out differently if James Potters parents had survived. It evolved in a way I didn't expect (Euphemia Potter, where have you been hiding?) It's not finished either, but here is what I have so far...
They lived
When Fleamont Potter first felt the stirrings of pain, deep in his chest-he ignored it. He was no healer, and it was to be expected in his age after all. He ignored it when he felt it flutter through his spine, passed it off as a working hazard when he felt a pang in his knees. (He shouldn’t have been fiddling with that old cauldron anyways).
But when his wife said to him, almost idly at the fireside-
“Will you remind me to owl Healer Robbins in the morning? I had a strange pain in my shoulder earlier, and it doesn’t seem to have gone away just yet.”
Fleamont looked at his wife, her hands quick and nimble as they laced glimmering threads through soft fabric. He looked at his wife, and saw his life’s love before him. He saw the dark eyes that had drawn him to her, the sharp wit of her tongue and the power and grace he knew not. He saw beyond her greying hair and the fine lines that told stories of their joy, and saw the life they had built. The garden they had cultivated, the business that had flourished beneath their feet, the son who had his mothers eyes as well as her spirit, her spark, her joy. 
Fleamont looked at his wife, his partner and knew that the world would be just that dimmer without her.
“Actually dear, I think we should owl them tonight.”
Their young son, his dark head of hair ducking under the mantle as he arrived, joined them at St. Mungos, his glowing wife at his side, her fingers weaving knots into her robes. James paled as he watched the Healers gather around the ones who had given him life, and he rushed to call his brother to his side, their dark heads bowed together as they sat in the crowded little waiting room. 
So Fleamont saved his wife, but he died that Thursday afternoon with his little family gathered at his bedside, his last act of love surviving without him. 
Lily Potter may have danced with her new father-in-law at her wedding, his beaming smile as bright as the candles flickering around them but it was to her husband's mother, alone, that she passed her newborn baby to.
Harry Fleamont Potter felt a fitting tribute, and James was sure he wasn’t imagining the tears sparkling in his mothers eyes.
Harry learned to walk through his grandmother's begonias, the ones that, in another life he may have walked towards his namesake. Or in another life, he would not know existed at all. 
When the war which had brewed around them throughout their adolescence came knocking at their door, James cloistered his young family into Godric's Hollow, leaving his mother alone at the Manor where he had frolicked and grown and on one fine summer's day wed his now targeted wife. 
James did not apologise to his mother as he kissed her goodbye. He didn't need to. 
Her second son, the one whose hair was as Black as his name, as black as the scorch mark his birth mother had left in his wake, loped through the wards every few days. Neither of them dared voice the hope, that courageous flighty thing that had found a home within their chests as they sipped their tea, watching sunsets that should have been savoured. 
But they did dare to hope, they dared to trust. And James Potter, who may have his mothers eyes and her spirit, also had his fathers unwavering loyalty. He trusted the wrong man.   
(and their protection fell, shocks of green light rang through the air, and a boy who had found love and joy in the presence of his first friend, found his worst nightmare come to life instead as he rushed through the air on a motorbike he would soon hand away). 
And the dog chased the rat, and the rat knew how to disappear when all the dog knew how to do was grieve. 
Fleamont’s last act of devotion didn’t change the fact that Euphemia woke up on November 1st with an intrinsic feeling of dread. When she opened the door she wasn’t faced with a scarred orphan as a shrieking Petunia Dursley was three counties over, but with the weary and regretful eyes of the men in red robes who had come to symbolise loss in their world. 
Euphemia managed to hold it together, her head held high until they used the words ‘Death Eater’ and ‘Sirius Black’ in the same sentence. Only then did she start to laugh, that horrible haunting laugh that only Blacks could. For Euphemia may have looked like her mother who had grown up across the world, but she was still a Black.
The two men, who had expected a feeble old woman and had gotten a glimpse of true Black madness did not think to question her when she demanded an escort to the Ministry. For her dear, kind son and his brave and bright wife would have to wait, their bodies still and cool as they would be for eternity, for it was her second son who needed her now. Her second son who sat in a stone cell and had cried himself to sleep.
For all that Remus-scarred, sweet, lonely and heartbroken-thought it was Sirius still, Euphemia knew her son. She knew he couldn’t be responsible for this. She also knew the look in a boy’s eyes when envy and greed had made its way deep into his heart, and she had seen it on Peter Pettigrew’s face one too many times to be as trusting as her dearly departed son.
With the power of her husband's name and his wealth she bullied an unsuspecting Barty Crouch into a trial the very next day, where a relieved Remus sat beside her, shaking while she was still. Later Sirius had wept apologies into her cloak, his regret tangible and as dark as his hatred for the man he had once called a brother. 
Sirius did not spend his 22nd birthday as he had planned, holed up with three Potters, being plied with cake and butterbeer, but he spent it screaming at the man he had once called a leader, at the man whose heart may have been heavy with regret, but whose hands still meddled in places he ought not to touch. 
The day after they gathered in Godric’s Hollow and watched a pair of twin coffins lowered into the fresh earth.
(While miles away, Harry cried for his mother and wondered why this woman who did not resemble anyone he knew had hands as sharp as her beady eyes).
Euphemia had saved her son from twelve years in Azkaban, but that did not mean she was going to leave the precious boy that had somehow survived, her husband's namesake, with a woman who had hated her own sister nearly as much as she had once loved her. 
Euphemia hadn’t expected Dumbledore to interfere. 
Dumbledore had expected Euphemia to acquiesce once he had explained with words like blood protection, and love sickly sweet on his tongue.
But she did not. 
Perhaps, in another world-one where Fleamont survived the night that his dear wife did, this would have played out differently. Quieter perhaps.
But Euphemia was different from Monty. She had grown up having to hold her head up, high, above the snickers and the stares and the comments. She had grown up between two worlds; not white enough, not dark enough. Having to make space for herself in a world that did not know what to do with her. 
When she first visited her family in India it wasn’t the overwhelming feeling of joy, she had expected, but rather a deep, dark loss in her soul. A wanting, a longing, a missing she would never truly understand. The colours were just as vivid, the smells just as enchanting, the sounds, the streets filled with life. But Mia had grown up across the world, where she’d had to learn to pronounce her r’s just so, how to preen, and dress and and hide so much of herself away that she’d never really found it again. Mia had grown up with a mother who was just as much a British citizen as everyone else around them, but different in a way they would never understand. 
(It was only when she met a man with eyes as deep as the ocean, and a smile that made her feel like she could soar did she feel she was coming out of the seams. Bit by painstaking bit). 
So yes, Monty, with his lineage and his old money and his class wouldn’t have dared, his fight would have taken place quietly, behind the scenes, where there was no fuss, no ruckus. 
But Monty wasn’t here anymore, and Mia had spent her life being quiet. 
So she raged, and stormed and threw herself into a battle with the most powerful man in Wizarding Britain. She argued her way through the courts, through countless politicians, secretaries and bureaucrats who she had spent her life kowtowing to when she was nothing but an immigrant's daughter with no power they could understand. 
And she won.
The snow had just begun to stick, and the lights were up in the neighbors windows when her grandson finally came home to her, with a trembling lip and a scarred forehead.
Euphemia Potter held him close - his hair smelt just like James had, when he was little, when her entire world could fit in her arms-and then passed him to her other son. The one who hadn’t been born from her, but who she loved just the same.  
They’d both had something taken from them, something ripped away with a cold curse and a flash of light, and she knew that only they could understand each other now. So Mia stayed in her opulent and empty house, and Sirius settled in the South Wing at the room that had always been his, his godson slumbering safely in his arms. 
That first Christmas was as dark as the words carved into stone back in Godric's Hollow. Two men who had to learn to trust each other again and a woman who many had expected to break by now. Only Harry’s laugh, his smile, his sparkling eyes could light up their bleak and unforgiving day. 
So Harry forgot the mean, cold woman who stared at him like something she would rather forget, and spent the spring with his grandmother as she planted flowers, her fingers quick and nimble as they had always been. He spent it with his godfathers-both of them-while one suffered each month as he always had, but whose love for Harry never wavered, and the other finally grew up.
For in this world Sirius Black did not wile away his years counting his regrets as he counted the bars on his cells. In this world he strategised, he built battle plans with the same fervour and determination he might have used to sliver between those bars as a shaggy, black dog. He focused on wiping out the forces that had taken so much of the light from their world. 
But he did not do this alone. For in losing one brother, he had gained another back. 
Regulus Black did not go to die in the cave that dark day in October of 1979. He would still be brave, and fierce, and full of righteous anger, but he did not die alone and afraid. Regulus Black had been in St. Mungos that summer, regretfully rejecting his prized and hard worked offer of a place as a Healer. 
Regulus Black had been there. He had seen his brother-the one who he missed as much as Petunia Evans missed her own sister-pale and weary with grief. He had seen him stumble in the corridor from Fleamont Potters room, the loss deeply etched in his face. 
Grief is the price we pay for love.  
Regulus had watched his brother, and wondered if perhap there were things worth living for-as much as they were worth dying for.
So despite what his mother, and the Dark Lord, and about every other Black relative wanted him to do-A Healer? How plebian. Regulus Black did what he had always yearned to, and was brave. He tore the rejection letter from the secretaries fist, and asked, with a weak attempt at his brothers bravado;
“What day do I start?”
So Regulus had taken a different path, a path that was still hard-for the road to hell was still paved with good intentions. 
Regulus stood with his head held high above the looks and snide comments-from both his Death Eater cohorts and his fellow trainees. But the Dark Lord could not touch him, could not stray him from this path, for the vow that was taken on his first day of orientation had sworn him to the Healing service, and even Tom Riddle knew some vows could not be broken.
Regulus Black had taken a different path (though the knowledge of the Horcrux and the unrelenting question of what/when/how still lingered) and was finishing up his rotation in the children’s ward when his long lost brother rushed in, a feverish child in his arms, and panic wreaking havoc in his young face.
“Please, I don’t know what’s wrong-I-I, he wouldn’t eat, and now he’s warm, too warm, and I-”
“Hand him to me.”
And Sirius had passed over the child he thought of as a son to a man he didn’t recognise and saw a boy he had once known. 
“I-Reggie-?”
But Regulus had always been good at his job. Even the other trainees, who glowered at him through the corridors as they once had in Hogwarts could not deny this. Regulus saw the brother whose approval he had always craved, but he did not think of it now. Regulus only looked at the child who lay shivering before him, and set to work.
Dragon Pox may have taken Fleamont Potter, but Regulus Black’s quick mind and steady hands ensured that his namesake did not follow in this regard. Sirius had cried tears of relief, and Remus had shaken Regulus’ hand so hard it felt bruised.
By now Harry had spent as much time without his parents as he had with them, and his loss would have taken his family to a place they could not return
Once Harry had settled, Mia Potter at his bedside and Remus Lupin fetching the blanket that Harry reached for every night, did the two brothers talk.
They spoke of nothing that had lingered deep in their minds, and their hearts in the years since the older one had departed.
“A Healer, huh?” Sirius Black tried to hide his surprise. 
Regulus bit back the 'You once told me I was good at Healing spells' and managed a smile. "Yes, coming on four years now.” 
Regulus felt young in his brother's presence (even if they were both the same height now).
“That’s… really great.” Sirius smiled, looking close to proud. 
“That's James son, isn't it?” Regulus asked, and watched the darkness flicker in his brothers eyes again.
“You can tell by the hair, huh?”
Really he could tell by the way Sirius looked at the boy-the same way he had always looked at James-but he smiled at his brother's attempt at humor anyways.
When the little family left two days later, a chagrined Sirius mumbled something out that was close to an invitation-coffee? Do you drink coffee? As he left St. Mungos, his beloved godson giggling in his arms. 
Regulus watched and wondered if perhaps he had gotten his brother back. If his brother would walk away from him again.
(He would, once he found out about the paradoxical life his brother led, a Healer who moonlights as a Death Eater. The life of one who fixes scars and curses he recognises, the life of one who is vowed to both worlds even as they threaten to pull him apart at the seams). 
But this time he would come back. And not on accident, stumbling in with a sick child, but with a determination for history not to repeat itself. 
For this Sirius Black knew about the transformative power of second chances.
Harry Potter grew up at his grandmother's elbow, learning about his culture, his heritage. What was left of it. Some had been lost to time, others to the journey made from Delhi to here. The rest to the pressure of a world who didn’t want girls with dark skin and a determined glint in her eye. 
But in this world Harry knew who he was. Where he had come from. What had been lost so he could live. And oh, did he live. 
He lived in the same trees and lakes his own father had made his kingdom at his age, he lived in the books his Moony shared with him-Moony, who watched as identical green eyes skimmed over the same pages he had seen a flame-haired girl devour. He lived in the adventures, the wild reckless stories and pursuits of his Padfoot. He lived in his grandmother's kitchen, watching her bake roti in between English cakes of lemon drizzle and his favourite treacle tart. 
Harry lived, and he knew what it was to be loved. 
(After all, a boy must live so he can learn to die. 
And even now, even here, Harry still had to be the boy who learned to walk to his death).
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theclockworkmonk · 3 years
Text
Halftime
Originally written for Hinny Ficfest 2021
Prompt #10: "Smile, we're on Camera."
Read on AO3
Summary: With Ginny telling Harry that he needs to cut loose, Harry fulfills one of his childhood dreams, but gets far more than he bargained for.
*******
Dear Harry,
I take back any and all cheek that I might have given you while you were Captain, because you clearly had the patience of a saint to not be screaming at us the whole time. I swear, it’s like herding hippogriffs. Peakes messed up his bat hand by being careless in Potions, Dean and Demelza are more interested in flirting with each other all practice than running the bloody drills, and the less I say about our sorry excuse for a new Seeker, the better. When you joined the auror program to help the world and find purpose in life, did you not once consider how it would inconvenience ME? Honestly.
And I don’t know how you put up with sharing classes with Hermione for six years. I’ve lost count of the times she’s almost slapped me upside the head from being in such a hurry to raise her hand. It’s also very annoying that I can’t lie to her about not having any homework to get her to stop nagging me, since she now has the same schedule as me.
I miss you so much. Honestly, has the first Hogsmeade weekend ALWAYS taken this long to arrive? What the hell. I’m counting down the days until I can get you pissed in the Three Broomsticks and I can take advantage of you (insert evil laughter here).
Love,
Ginny
****
Dear Ginny,
I’m afraid I can’t join you in bad mouthing Dean for being distracted by a girl during practice, as that would make me a hypocrite. But it’s irrelevant, because you’ll score so many goals on your own that it won’t even matter who catches the Snitch. Let’s be honest, you’re a better Captain than I ever had a chance of being. At least you’ll probably play in more than one game. As much as I miss you, that makes me glad I didn’t go back to school, even if my hand is cramping from paperwork and Robards thinks I don’t deserve to be here.
I’m honestly surprised that homework lie worked on Hermione up until now. I would have guessed that she memorized every year’s schedule just so she could scold students of all years (don’t tell her I said that).
About Hogsmeade….I was actually thinking that maybe we should steer clear of the pubs and shops. Maybe we can have a picnic on the outskirts of the village. Or maybe I can instead meet you on the school grounds. I know non-students normally aren’t allowed that, but I’ve been told the school’s stern headmistress has a soft spot for me. I just think that if we’re in the Broomsticks or Honeydukes together we won’t even get through the day without cameras starting flashing. I just don’t want to add one more thing to stress you out.
Love,
Harry
****
Dear Harry,
Okay Love, this is getting ridiculous. We’ve been together for months but still haven’t gone on a single proper date. I’ve tried to be understanding, I didn’t even argue when you didn’t want to come to see me off on the platform and we had to get all our snogging in at the house, but surely you realize this can’t go on forever. I’m PROUD that I’m your girlfriend, you git. You keep saying that you don’t want to drag me into your public life, but I don’t know how many times I have to tell you that I don’t care about that. You really don’t think I can handle the occasional Witch Weekly columnist cornering me and asking me if you’re good in the sack? Don’t worry, I’ll give a glowing review.
We can’t keep hiding from the world forever, nor should we have to. So stop being such a noble prat or I absolutely WILL tell Hermione what you said about her scolding.
Love,
Ginny
****
Ginny,
I know that you could handle anything the world throws at you. I know you can handle anything, but you still shouldn’t have to. It’s more about what I can handle. I know we can’t keep this secret forever, but….I don’t know, our relationship is just OURS right now. Once we’re public, it’s like we’re going to be sharing it with a thousand strangers. Half of bloody Britain had an opinion about Hermione my fourth year, and I wasn’t even ACTUALLY dating her.
This is probably like ripping off a bandage and we should just get it over with, but as long as I still have that card to play and make plans on how I’d reveal it at some point in the future, I can fool myself into thinking I’m actually in control of this part of my life. Once the press gets word about us, it’ll be chaos.
Love,
Harry
P.S. - If you tell Hermione what I said, I’ll tell Ron that you said it’s only a matter of time before he gets too fat to be an auror.
****
I clearly have failed to teach you that control is grossly overrated. If you ask me, some chaos is exactly what you need. Sure, your life might have SEEMED crazy at first, but now you know you were just riding on rails the whole time. You’ve had Dumbledore, the school, the Ministry, the Order, all telling you what you can do and where you can go for your own protection, and of course the whole thing was because a bloody prophecy was running your life. Honestly, if I were you, I’d be going crazy.
And what do you take me for, a coward? I told Ron that to his face this summer, your threats mean nothing to me, peasant.
****
Are you calling me boring? I AM going crazy! I’m actually leaving the house and going to the shop when I want to. 10-year-old me would have his mind blown by having more than five square feet to move around, haha.
****
Nice try Harry, but we’ve both learned that using dark humor as a defense mechanism only goes so far. Your tragic backstory actually further proves my point, this truly is the first time your life has been open-ended and you don’t even know what to do with it.
You know what I think? I think you need to be impulsive. Maybe even a little spiteful. Every day, just do something you couldn’t do growing up or at school, either because it was too dangerous or illegal or because the monsters you lived with didn’t let you, or whatever (by the way, I’m totally going to kill them, it doesn’t matter what you say). Even if you don’t think you need or want to do them, do them just because you CAN now. Don’t wait to start until you can do them with me, in fact it may actually be better if you don’t. Even though we love each other, our relationship is still something you’re bound by and responsible for. You need to learn to live for no one but yourself.
Then maybe you’ll stop being such a chivalrous prat and hiding me away. Love you.
*******************
14 November, 1998
“I think you overdid it on the shrinking charm,” said Hermione, “I’m not that taller than you.”
Ginny adjusted the denim jacket that Hermione had lent her as they walked down from the castle in the crisp autumn air. The boys had written to them and asked them to wear muggle clothes when they went down to Hogsmeade, and Ginny needed to borrow something warm that wasn’t a cloak from Hermione, and had adjusted the size with magic.
“ Hmm, ” Ginny hummed thoughtfully, “Maybe, but I didn’t want it to be baggy. I need it riding high enough so my bum is uncovered, I didn’t squeeze myself into these tight jeans for nothing.”
Hermione grimaced and rolled her eyes. “Well you might have made it so small that it doesn’t even make you warm, defeating the purpose.”
Ginny scoffed. “Hermione, we’re girls, we don’t need to rely just on clothes to keep us warm, that’s what boyfriend arms are for, obviously. ”
They approached the gate of the school, and were surprised to find their boyfriends waiting for them right there instead of in the village. Ginny was about to tell off Harry if he was continuing with his nonsense of just spending the day at the school, but her voice died and her jaw dropped when she saw the state of him.
Harry was, somehow, looking even hotter than he did the last time she saw him. He was wearing a black t-shirt with a messed-up smiley face on it and the word “NIRVANA” splashed across his chest (which looked much more toned than the last time Ginny had seen it, but she would have to run her hands over it to be sure). She was able to see it because his hands were on his hips, pushing back the black leather jacket he was wearing. From now on, he would wear nothing but leather, if Ginny had any say, and it hung beautifully on his broad shoulders (which he had now, apparently, Ginny thanked the gods for the auror training regimen).
But the thing that drew Ginny’s eyes the most was his hair. It was even more wild than usual, messier than any bedhead she had seen him with, to the point that it seemed to defy gravity, and was practically begging for a girlfriend’s fingers to be running through it.
“Oh, brother,” she heard Ron grumble. She wasn’t surprised. She wasn’t even attempting to hide how hard she was eye-shagging Harry.
Harry gulped and blushed at the look on his girlfriend’s face, and didn’t even manage to get out a polite greeting before she leapt into his arms and kissed him until he felt dizzy.
“...wow,” he gasped finally as he put her down, needing air.
“Wow, I don’t think I’ve ever seen you in muggle clothes that fit you,” said Hermione, after kissing her own boyfriend.
“Yeah, he looks weird in jeans meant for a human instead of a hippopotamus,” laughed Ron.
Harry shifted uncomfortably at the attention. “Yeah, well...that’s sort of the point.”
He turned back to Ginny. “I took your advice. I’ve been doing lots of stuff that I’ve never been allowed to do before. I actually bought a Nintendo, since I was never allowed to touch Dudley’s, or even watch him play.”
“He’s coming to regret that, though,” said Ron smugly, “since I’ve been kicking his arse at it.”
“And I also realized that I can actually buy my own clothes now,” Harry continued. “I started out just wanting to buy some jeans and shirts that fit me, but well….your dad and I finished fixing Sirius’s motorcycle, and in all the photos I’ve found of Sirius with it, he’s wearing a jacket like this. I guess it’s just what you’re supposed to wear when you ride one.”
He looked down and pulled at his t-shirt. “This is a muggle band that I found a tape of once. I managed to play it for a bit on Dudley’s old stereo he kept in his second bedroom, but I got a bit too greedy with the volume and Petunia practically shrieked like a banshee to ‘turn off that noise!’ But now I have all their music and blast it as loud as possible, just because I can, like you said.”
“And in all of this splurging, you couldn’t afford a hair comb?” chuckled Hermione, pointing to Harry’s hair.
“Hey, you shut up!” Ginny told Hermione. “Don’t listen to her, Harry, if you comb this I’ll kill you.”
“Yeah, apparently men do this on purpose now?” said Harry. “I went to get a haircut, and basically told the stylist to just do whatever she thought looked good, and she used this paste that made my hair stick out all over the place even more than it usually does, and stay there.”
He shrugged at Ginny. “You said to be spiteful, and it was fun imagining what Petunia would think if I had this growing up, so I kept it.”
“Well Harry, that is downright petty!” Ginny gasped. “I’m so proud of you!” At that, Harry’s face split into an adorably goofy grin.
“Well let’s get going,” said Hermione. “Why did you two ask us to dress muggle?”
Reluctantly, Harry pulled his eyes away from his girlfriend beaming at him. “Oh yeah, that. Well, I was actually hoping we could go to muggle London. There’s another thing I’ve been meaning to do, but I wanted all of us to go together.
Ginny’s eyes narrowed suspiciously and she looked at Harry with her hands on her hips. “Are you just trying to get me away from the magical world as part of your daft idea to protect me?”
“What? Nooooo,” said Harry guiltily, “It’s not about that!”
Ginny didn’t move a muscle except to raise one eyebrow.
“....okay it’s not only about that. Come on, muggle public is still public, it’s a step in the right direction, work with me here, Gin.”
“I for one don’t mind staying clear of Harry’s admirers, personally,” said Ron, offering his arm to Hermione to Apparate.
“Alright,” grumbled Ginny, “but you’re not off the hook about this!”
She looped her arm through Harry’s, he turned on the spot, and she winced as she felt the squeeze of Apparition.
When they landed, Ginny was immediately aware of all the sounds and smells that came with the truly absurd number of people that lived together in muggle society. That was the thing about muggles that always blew her mind, just how many there were. She heard the shuffling of thousands of footsteps and a cacophony of car horns, and smelled smog. The first thing she saw, however, was just a brick wall. They had Apparated in an alleyway.
“Come on,” said Harry, and took her by the hand. He led her out onto a bustling pavement, and across the street Ginny saw an enormous stadium. Everywhere, there were billboards and banners in red and white, adorned with the emblem of a red rose. Across the entrance to the stadium, where a huge crowd of people, mostly dressed in white, were passing through turnstiles, were giant letters spelling out “WELCOME TO TWICKENHAM.”
“Oh Harry, this is a great idea!” said Hermione cheerfully as they started crossing the street towards the entrance.
“Wait, what’s going on?” asked Ginny, “What made you want to come here?”
Harry sighed as they continued to walk. “Growing up, Dudley always loved a muggle sport called rugby. Actually...no, I don’t think he loved the actual sport, he just loved watching big ugly blokes hit each other really hard. His favorite part of the matches were the brawls that would occasionally break out. That might be why he eventually lost interest in the sport and took up boxing instead, cutting out the middleman, I guess.
They got in line at the entrance to the stadium and Harry handed out tickets that he had bought to the three of them.
“Anyway,” Harry continued, “Petunia and Vernon would take Dudley to all the England games. They really tried to foster his interest in it, I think maybe so that he might actually want to play.”
He paused for a moment and then chuckled. “But that was never going to happen. Dudley can’t run for eight seconds, much less eighty minutes. The sport also kind of has a stigma for being for stuffy upper-class people—”
“Yeah, that tracks,” grumbled Ron. “Your dad said he played this game, right Hermione?” She swatted his arm.
“So that was the other reason the Dursleys liked the game, it fit nicely into the image they obsessively crafted about themselves,” continued Harry, with an edge in his voice. “But of course, that image had no room for me in it. They couldn’t very well be seen with a boy who looked like a street urchin in raggy hand-me-downs, so every England game I got handed off to Mrs. Figg while little Dudders got to shout obscenities at the opposing players and referee to his heart’s content.”
Ginny gave his hand a comforting squeeze, and his furrowed brow relaxed again. He shook himself out of his mood and cleared his throat.
“Anyway, Ginny’s been telling me to indulge myself more, so I thought I’d finally see what all the fuss is about, just because I can now. I wanted it to be a surprise, but in hindsight I really should have asked you both first, I won’t get my feelings hurt if you want to go back to Hogsmeade.”
“Oh, don’t you start that again!” Ginny scolded him.
“This is an excellent idea, Harry,” said Hermione. “I’m always telling these two they should learn more about muggles.”
Once they were in the stadium, Harry started guiding them towards the section with their seats, but Ron made to go towards one of the many food kiosks.
“Ron, I know there’s no way you didn’t eat lunch before picking us up,” groaned Hermione. “Even you can’t possibly be hungry again already.”
“Hey, you just said I needed to learn more about muggles!” said Ron defensively. “I’m going to get right on that, starting with learning about their selections of beer.”
Hermione crossed her arms. “Oh, really, you got a muggle driver’s license while I’ve been away? How do you plan to prove that you’re over eighteen?”
Ron frowned in confusion. “Why the bloody hell would it matter if I’m over eighteen?”
Hermione rolled her eyes. “Harry, Ginny, go find our seats. Ron, go buy the food, I’ll get us some drinks.”
Eventually, they were all seated, in a great spot that Harry knew with satisfaction even the Dursleys had never sprung for, with Harry sitting between Ginny and Hermione, with Ron on Hermione’s other side. Ron was balancing a sample of nearly every concession in the stadium, Ginny was bouncing excitedly on the edge of her seat, and Harry wore a contented smile as the England team marched out onto the field alongside the Netherlands, greeted by the roar of the crowd.
“Brr, it’s a little cold,” said Ginny, exaggerating her shiver a bit and looking sideways.
“Oh, come here,” said Harry, with genuine concern, and wrapped his arm around her.
She sighed as she melted into him. “Much better.”
“You cold too, love?” Ron asked Hermione. “These muggle clothes aren’t as warm as a cloak.”
“No, I cast a warming charm on myself before we left,” Hermione said casually.
“Oh…” said Ron, his face falling. Hermione rolled her eyes, took his hand, and wrapped her boyfriend’s arm around her.
As the anthems started playing, the four of them enthusiastically attempted to sing along, despite the fact that Hermione was the only one of them who knew the words to “God Save the Queen,” and blushed with embarrassment at the offended looks they earned from the fans around them.
Right from kickoff, Ginny was surprised by how much she enjoyed a game where all of the players were stuck on the ground. It was true that there was a great deal of ugly blokes hitting each other, but there was also a good bit of far prettier blokes pulling off long, elaborate passing plays that honestly made Ginny feel jealous and start taking mental notes, and whenever the players started launching kicks into the sky and leaping to catch them, she almost felt like she were at a Quidditch match. With each England score, she cheered as if she had been watching the team all her life.
And she had plenty of chances, because barely a few minutes would go by before England would score again. The roar of the crowd quickly became less and less intense, as many of the muggle fans started clapping politely or even looking outright bored, and looked sideways at Harry and Ginny continuing to leap to their feet every time England ran the ball into the end of the field, like they suspected the young couple were being sarcastic.
“Oh come on, that was thrown forward!” Ron cried out in frustration as England scored their fifth try. “And there’s no way that was a legal tackle!” he pointed to a Dutch player still on the ground, clutching his ribcage.
“How would you know?” Harry laughed. “And whose side are you on anyway, traitor?”
“He can’t help it, this is just like watching the Harpies play the Canons,” teased Ginny. “He has a soft spot for hopeless teams.”
“Oi, shut it!” snapped Ron, “Besides, it’s our year this year, our new Keeper is unbeatable, except from the left side.”
By the time halftime was called, England was up forty-seven to zero, Harry and Ginny were feeling exhausted from cheering, Hermione’s right ear was hurting from Ginny’s shouting, and Ron was about to burst from all the beer he had drunk, so he got up and made like a bat out of hell towards the toilets.
As the fans settled down, the stadium was trying to keep them entertained until the game resumed, playing music and showing shots of the crowd on the jumbotron, with the caption “Dance Cam!” in the corner. Harry and Ginny were having fun judging the performances.
“Hmmm, commendable effort, but lacking creative vision,” said Ginny in a snooty voice.
“You just can’t appreciate the artform,” said Harry. “If they pointed the camera at us, I would wipe the floor with you.”
“Ugh, no, I don’t need to see you attempt to dance,” said Ron, returning holding his stomach and looking green. “I already hurled in the loo, don’t make me do it again.”
“Well that tends to happen when you eat five hot dogs in forty minutes,” said Hermione primly.
“Yeah, well, I’ve been living off of Harry’s cooking for the past two months, I was desperate for something edible.”
“Only you could complain about free food, Ron,” said Harry.
“It’s not free! I’m paying for it more than you!” Ron shot back. “Don’t act like you’re cooking to be nice, you’re just using me as your Weasley guinea pig so you can get good at it to impress my sister!”
Harry blushed, and was about to retort, when Ginny pulled on Harry’s arm from his other side.
“Harry,” she said in a sultry voice that sent a shiver down his spine, “Smile, we’re on camera.”
Harry looked up to the jumbotron, and felt himself blush harder and gulped loudly. He saw Ginny and himself, up on the screen, magnified for thousands of people to see, but that wasn’t the most embarrassing part. While he had been arguing with Ron, the game had apparently changed. Instead of the Dance Cam, the screen was now captioned with “Kiss Cam!”
He turned towards his girlfriend, who had a dangerous glint in her eye, and cleared his throat. “Er...do you think we should—”
He was cut off by Ginny throwing her arms around his neck and sticking her tongue down his throat. She leaned back in her seat, pulling him with her until he was almost lying on top of her. Through the fog of blissful oblivion that turned his brain to mush, Harry was distantly aware of the roar of laughter and wolf whistles as a few thousand of his closest friends reacted to him snogging his girlfriend.
“...Welp. I’m gonna go puke again,” Ron said in a deadpan voice, and got up to leave.
“You know, when you told me to go crazy, I didn’t think you meant shameless, ” Harry told Ginny.
“Oh, ex- cuse me!” laughed Ginny. “Have you already forgotten how our first kiss went?”
“I think this is on a bit bigger scale!” said Harry, gesturing around them to the huge stadium, many hundreds of times larger than the Gryffindor common room.
“Yes, that means that I win,” said Ginny smugly.
Harry laughed and reached an arm around her, pulling her close.
“I didn’t know it was possible to feel this....”
“Happy?” Ginny finished for him hopefully.
“No,” said Harry thoughtfully. “Well, yes, I mean, I am happy, but you make me this happy all the time. I didn’t know it was possible to feel this normal. ”
Ginny smiled and leaned her head against his shoulder. “For the record, Harry, you’re not normal. You’re brilliant, and a hero, that’s never going to go away forever. But I’m glad you got to pretend otherwise today. Now, can we get the game started again? I’m on the edge of my seat to find out who wins.”
Despite being so cheesy, Harry couldn’t help himself. “Well, I’m feeling like I’m the real winner here.”
Ginny threw her head back and groaned.
******************
“I am starving! ” Ron announced as he and Harry stepped through the Burrow’s fireplace. They had just floo’ed over for Sunday dinner, which had quickly become a tradition after they had moved out. For both of them, the Burrow still felt like home.
When they entered the kitchen, they found most of the family already there, and Harry was surprised and confused by the range of reactions he received. Fleur’s face was flushed as if she had been laughing, and upon seeing Harry she collapsed into more giggles. Bill, however, narrowed his eyes at Harry and pressed his mouth into a thin line, which didn’t scare him nearly as much as George grinning at him and rubbing his hands together gleefully. Mrs. Weasley had her back turned to them at the kitchen sink, and Mr. Weasley was hidden behind a newspaper.
Harry and Ron paused for a moment and looked at each other.
“Er...what’s so funny?” asked Harry.
“It’s not funny,” said Bill curtly, looking between his wife and George.
“Did you two enjoy your outing with the girls yesterday?” Mrs. Weasley asked without turning around.
“It was brilliant,” said Ron. “Harry had a stupid grin on his face the whole time.”
“Well I should think so,” sighed Mrs. Weasley, with annoyance in her voice. She turned around and placed a magazine on the kitchen table, sliding it towards Ron and Harry. “You certainly seem to have enjoyed yourself.”
Harry looked at the cover of the magazine, and felt all of his insides turn to ice.
It was the latest issue of Witch Weekly, and on the cover was an identical image to the one that had appeared on the stadium’s screen the previous day, except this one was magically moving: Harry and Ginny in the stands, sharing a searing kiss in front of everyone. The headline read “ WHO IS GINNY WEASLEY? THE INSIDE SCOOP ABOUT THE CHOSEN ONE’S CHOSEN ONE! Read on page 23.”
“This issue actually went out late,” said George over his drink, “I guess that happens when the biggest story of the week happens last-minute.”
Harry couldn’t respond. He felt his throat closing up. The exact thing that he had been terrified would happen had happened.
“Okay, just for the record,” said Ron uneasily, “She was the one snogging him.”
“How dare you, Ronald!” said George dramatically. “What are you implying about our sweet, innocent baby sister? We all know she’s been badly influenced by Harry’s wanton ways. After all, he’s always been such a womanizer.”
“We can see that she instigated it in the picture, Ron,” said Bill shortly, “But one wouldn’t think that Harry would be powerless against being manhandled by a ninety pound girl with no wand if he didn’t concur with the idea. Where’s all those auror reflexes?”
Harry was barely listening to them. He opened the magazine so fast he ripped the cover and flipped to page 23:
Sorry to all of our younger readers, but Harry Potter appears to be off the market! While WITCH WEEKLY reporter Joan Bigby was watching a muggle game called “rug bee” (as research for our Top 10 Hottest Muggle Celebrities, pg 36), imagine her shock when she spotted the Chosen One himself in the crowd. After months of being elusive, with not a single public sighting outside of the Ministry of Magic since the Battle of Hogwarts, Harry, with all eyes on him, shared an intense kiss with a red-headed girl that we have since discovered is Ginny Weasley, current seventh year Hogwarts student, in a public display of affection that very few would expect of the famously mysterious and dignified hero.
However, the muggle footage (that we’ve magically recreated here) clearly shows Ginny initiating the kiss. Did she do it to get some fame for herself? Many people are saying it’s possible.
“WHO is saying it’s possible!?” Harry growled as he white-knuckle gripped the glossy pages. “You just broke the story, who’s talking about it already!?”
“Oh, ‘many people are saying,’” Mrs. Weasley huffed. “That’s what they say when they want to disguise that they’re just making things up.”
Harry continued to read, even though every line horrified him more than the last.
Naturally, the magical community of Britain will be wondering if this girl is good enough for their savior. Well, we regret to inform everyone that Ginny Weasley appears to have a reputation of having many boyfriends and going through them rather quickly.
“But she doesn’t!” Harry cried. “She had just two previous boyfriends and dated them for a year, how is that quickly?”
“Well I mean,” mumbled Ron, “She does have more experience then either of us.”
“But that’s only because we’re both idiots,” said Harry.
“Fair point,” said Ron.
After leaving the muggle event, Miss Bigby Apparated to Hogsmeade, where the Hogswarts student population were spending the day. She had a very enlightening conversation with a Miss Romilda Vane, current sixth year.
“Oh, bloody hell,” Harry groaned.
“I strongly suspect she’s been slipping him love potions,” Miss Vane commented. “Everyone knew that she was fawning over him for years, then out of nowhere he’s snogging her in the Gryffindor Common Room after a Quidditch match. She’s been climbing the ranks by dating boys who will give her clout by association. First there was Michael Corner, a Ravenclaw with the highest marks in his year, then there was Dean Thomas, Harry’s dorm mate and one of Gryffindor’s Quidditch stars.”
WITCH WEEKLY also tried to reach out to Corner and Thomas, who were also present in Hogsmeade, but they both adamantly declined to comment. However, this may have been due to having no bad things to say, but rather a fear of reprisal from the fiery redhead. According to Miss Vane, Ginny Weasley also has a reputation for being violently unstable, with a penchant for the Bat Bogey Hex. As if we weren’t already worried that this girl would break Harry’s heart, she might also hurt him physically….
Harry let the magazine fall from his hands and he collapsed into one of the kitchen chairs.
“It’s over,” he said in disbelief. It wasn’t emotional panicking, it was just a reasonable statement of fact. “There’s no way she doesn’t chuck me after this.”
Harry hopelessly collapsed forward until his forehead loudly made contact with the wooden table.
All the expressions from the Weasleys softened in sympathy, from Bill’s and Mrs. Weasley’s stern looks to Fleur’s and George’s teasing smiles.
“Oh Harry dear, I’m sure she’ll understand,” said Mrs. Weasley softly, coming around the table and placing a hand on his shoulder.
“If I know my daughter at all,” said Mr. Weasley, finally emerging from behind his paper, “then she couldn’t care less what some strangers reading a magazine think of her. She understands that as long as the people who love you know the truth, that’s all that matters.
“Oh, I zink she cares,” chuckled Fleur, “She will love being known as ze diabolical villain zis rag is writing about. She will be proud, it will make ozzers zink twice before messing wiz ‘er. No one will try to steal ‘Arry from her if zey zink she will hex zem.”
“No, I know Ginny is strong,” said Harry despondently, “but everyone has a limit. She has to be wondering if being with me is worth—”
Tap tap tap
Harry’s sulking was interrupted by the noise at the window. He looked up and saw the screech owl that he had gotten Ginny for her birthday.
Harry’s heart sank even further. This was it. The break-up letter.
He mentally protested against his feet as they carried him to the window. All of his Gryffindor courage was failing him and he wanted to run in the opposite direction of that letter and never read it.
He numbly opened the window and took the letter from the owl. He opened it with shaking hands and began reading. As he read, he felt his tense stomach muscles finally relax, and eventually he started chuckling and a small smile appeared on his lips.
“Eh-hem.”
Harry looked up and saw all of the Weasleys looking at him very expectantly.
“Well?” said Ron.
Harry shrugged and began reading:
“Okay Harry,
I figure that this letter should reach you right as you’re starting to panic at Sunday dinner and starting to think a bunch of daft things like I’m going to ditch you.
Dean told me about being ambushed by some tart from WITCH WEEKLY in Hogsmeade. I got a copy this morning and it’s honestly the most brilliant thing I’ve ever read. I’ve framed it and put it up in my dorm, I’m going to re-read it whenever I need inspiration.”
“See? What did I tell you,” said Fleur proudly.
“I’m thinking about putting ‘Ginny Weasley, named Gold Digger of the Week by WITCH WEEKLY’ on business cards, but that might be overkill. So nip all of those noble, guilty thoughts I know you’re having in the bud, Potter. My only regret is that I don’t get to snog you like that every day. So you better be prepared to make up for lost time—”
“Feel free to skip this part,” said Bill flatly.
“We get the gist of it,” said Ron.
“The point is, Harry, that it will take a lot more than some tripe in a magazine for lonely witches with nothing better to do with their time for you to get rid of me. You better not try to hide me away again the next time we’re together. You’re going to snog me in public, whether it’s muggle or magical public is up to you.
Love (no matter what),
Ginny
P.S. - If you truly want to make it up to me, you can use your Ministry connections to get me out of Azkaban after what I do to Romilda Vane.
“Wow,” said Ron, “Don’t let her go, mate, that’s not the kind of letter you’d get from most girls right now.”
“I think I’ll have to lend our sister some Weasley Wizard Wheezes prototypes,” said George thoughtfully, “It seems she’s found the perfect test subject in Miss Vane.”
“Oh, don’t you encourage her!” scolded Mrs. Weasley, “I’ll write and tell her it’s best to just ignore this sort of thing and not retaliate. I told you she would be understanding, Harry dear.”
Harry’s head was swimming and his heart was pounding from his realization.
As happy as he had always been with Ginny, there had always been something holding him back from picturing a future with her. He now realized he had been assuming that she would get scared of everything that came with dating him and let him go. But she had taken the worst of it in stride, and that made it obvious: she was with him for keeps. She was the One. He could now see his whole life stretched out in front of him. A life shared with Ginny.
Harry made to leave the kitchen in the direction of the fireplace.
“Wait, Harry, where are you going?” asked Mrs. Weasley.
Harry didn’t see a reason to hide it. “I’m going back to my flat to write the cheesiest, most nauseating love letter in history.”
Ron shooed him away. “Don’t give us any more details, then, I don’t want to lose my appetite.”
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pet-genius · 3 years
Text
Severus Snape and Godric's Old Stuff
How Severus got the Sword to Harry, from his point of view, as I imagine it:
It felt like it was many moons ago that Severus had put the Sorting Hat on and pleaded with it to give him the Sword of Gryffindor.
‘Well, this is a surprise,’ it told him. ‘I don’t normally find myself on the heads of full-grown wizards.’
If Severus had ever felt ridiculous, it was at that moment, especially because he felt an actual grudge against the ragged old hat rear its head. The hat, apparently, sensed it, as it shifted atop his head, but chose not to address this. ‘How may I help you, Severus?’
‘I require the Sword of Gryffindor.’
‘If I am not mistaken, and I hardly ever am, I put you in Slytherin. Only a true Gryffindor can pull the sword out of me.’
‘Of course good old Godric would make such a self-serving hat. For your information, I intend to deliver the Sword to a Gryffindor. I have no use for the blasted thing. If I could deliver you to him, I would have, but it will give away too much.’
‘I sense that you are upset with me, Severus,’ the hat replied. ‘Care to tell me why?’
Perhaps it was the fact that he was wearing a hat that normally only graced the heads of 11 year-olds, but he felt very much like a petulant child.
‘Because you put her in Gryffindor! You had to put her in the same stupid house as Potter and Black and the whole lot of them, and she….’ he did not finish his sentence in his mind. If the hat wanted to know, the hat was welcome to ask.
‘I stand by it. She was a Gryffindor if there ever was one, Severus, and you know it. Courageous, chivalrous, outspoken. She would not have done so well in another house’
‘I guess that makes me a coward, then,’ Severus thought, knowing full well he was being petty in the extreme, ‘not that I would call being murdered at 21 doing well, exactly.’
‘A coward, you are not. But you were and remain a quintessential Slytherin. Very easy to sort, you were. And it seems to me that you did very well for yourself, indeed - are you not Headmaster? Are you not the Dark Lord’s second in command?’
‘I never wanted any of this and you know it.’
‘You can’t lie to the Sorting Hat, Severus. All I say is what I see in your head.’
He sulked under the Hat. It was true - there was a time he would have given anything and everything to be the Dark Lord’s second in command; the only difference now was that he already had.
‘It was not so long ago that I sorted her son.’
Severus sulked some more.
‘I know you despise him; I know you see only his father in him.’
‘Wonderful, another sermon about the Amazing Harry Potter. Spare me. I have Dumbledore’s portrait for that.’
‘I wish I could show you he has a lot of his mother in him. He too is courageous, chivalrous, and outspoken. But you should know, I almost sorted him into your house.’
Severus almost choked. ‘Excuse me?’
‘He begged me not to. I later realized it was Tom Riddle’s fragmented soul I was responding to - yes, I heard Dumbledore tell you about it - but it is not necessarily the only reason. He has been cunning. He has been resourceful.’
‘Cunningly nearly getting himself killed every other week.’
‘Even so, I take it that it is him to whom you will be delivering the Sword.���
‘Precisely.’
‘I recognize that if I do not help you get it to him, I might have no one left to Sort next year. I can do it, for the benefit of Hogwarts. But the enchantment requires that you demonstrate extreme valour.’
Severus raised his Sword-less hands. ‘So I am a coward, then. And yet you Sorted Pettigrew into Gryffindor. How about the fact that I lie to the Dark Lord constantly, at the risk torture and death? How about the flagrant betrayal of him, before he fell? How about the fact that I have not killed myself yet?’
‘That will do, Severus.’ And the Sword fell into his hand.
As he extracted it from behind Dumbledore’s portrait, much later, Severus remembered his excruciating conversation with the Sorting Hat - he was glad it didn’t turn out to be a complete waste of time to get the Hat to cough it up to him.
‘Headmaster! They are camping in the Forest of Dean! The Mudblood -’
‘Do not use that word!’ Severus admonished the portrait.
‘- the Granger girl, then, mentioned the place as she opened her bag and I heard her!’
Dumbledore saw fit to remind him of the conditions under which the Sword must be taken - as if he could forget. That he did tell Severus, but tell him what in Godric’s name Harry needed the Sword for - Heaven forbid. The portrait also found it important to warn that must not let himself be seen “after George Weasley’s mishap”. It was good, Severus reckoned, that he already knew he must not be seen. George Weasley’s ear? I killed you and you think it is George Weasley’s ear they will be concerned about? But then again, Severus thought, what could he expect of a wizard who got himself cursed in so ridiculous a manner in the first place? “Don’t worry,” he said coolly. “I have a plan.”
The school was positively deserted - almost nobody stayed for Christmas this year. Only those who had absolutely no place else to call home remained, and thankfully, Rubeus Hagrid was one of them. Severus made his way to Hagrid’s hut. He did not bother with pleasantries.
“I require a thestral, Rubeus.”
“I will never help yeh, not fer me own life,” the Groundskeeper spat at him.
“Your life? Your life, Hagrid? You are not important enough to kill. Fetch me a thestral, or else, Hagrid.”
“Or else what, ye cunning, murdering…”
It was not exactly a question, but Headmaster Snape dignified it with an answer nevertheless. “Or else I will fire you and hire your old friend and Death Eater Macnair to teach Care of Magical Creatures. In a manner of speaking.”
Hagrid had no choice but to obey, muttering “‘course, he can see the thestrals, the student torturing, death eating traitor” to himself all the while. Hagrid seemed disgusted with himself, but for a change, Severus was not. This was the best Christmas break he has had in a long time.
Of course he could see the thestrals - he was no stranger to grief. He mounted one of the skeletal, winged horses and the useful creature brought him to the Forest of Dean. He dismounted the thestral and immediately ordered it to fly back to Hogwarts, and Hagrid.
Severus delighted in the irony of having to create a situation for Potter to demonstrate his courage, and he wondered if Granger would be clever enough to understand where the Sword must have come from.
He found a pond that had already frozen over, cracked the thick layer of ice to throw the Sword in the water, and as he watched the Sword submerge and sway from side to side as it sunk, he cast a quick freezing charm.
The rest of the operation depended on Harry - and that thought made Severus shudder more than the shivering cold did.
35 notes · View notes
omgrachwrites · 3 years
Text
Tell a Tale of You and Me - Chapter Twenty Three
Pairing: Sirius Black x Reader
Summary: You knew that making a bet with Sirius Black was like making a deal with the devil but you just couldn’t help yourself. You had never been a heavenly woman.
Warnings: fluff, angst, major character death
Words: 2380
A/N: Here we are, the last chapter! I would just like to thank everyone who has supported me on this whirlwind of a journey, I hope you’ve enjoyed it as much as I have! There will be a sequel probs in a months time about Y/N and Sirius’ daughter which will be another reader insert so I might have to give her a name otherwise there will be loads of Y/N’s running all over the place! Hope you guys enjoy and please let me know if you would like to be tagged in the sequel! I love you all! xxx
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Chapter Twenty Three
Sirius sighed out in immense relief as the powerful jet of scalding hot water soothed his aching muscles, he hissed through gritted teeth as the water pounded against his bruised skin. He was exhausted, his eyes ached and they were bloodshot but try as he might, sleep wasn’t coming easily. Sirius had arrived home at about 5am after being on duty all night for The Order of the Phoenix. The Order was a secret society that had been formed by Dumbledore to fight off Voldemort and some people – including Y/N – had given up their usual job to work for The Order.
Sirius had slept for about two hours, drifting in and out of fitful dreams – sleep was much harder to come by these days with everything going on in the world – and he had awoken around 7:30am when Y/N got up with their daughter. He had contented resting his eyes for a few hours but he hadn’t slept. He sighed as he reluctantly shut off the water and got out, wrapping himself in a fluffy towel before he got dressed and padded down the stairs.
He grinned as he admired the Halloween decorations that Y/N had put up to bring some season’s cheer into the house. Halloween had always been Sirius’ favourite time of year but he felt like something big was going to happen this year, he just couldn’t place his finger on it. Y/N smiled up at him as he joined her in the living room – their daughter was happily playing and babbling by herself in the middle of the floor.
Y/N snuggled contently into his chest as he wrapped an arm around her and he kissed the top of her head, “you look exhausted baby. Was it a hard night?” she asked, pulling back to look at him, worry etched into her features.
Sirius smiled as he pressed his lips against her forehead, “nah, it was all fine, just some superficial things. What’s on the agenda for today then?”
“Well, my mum and dad are coming over tonight but until then, nothing,” she laughed, “I mean what can we do when it’s hardly safe to leave our house?” Sirius nodded in reply, his teeth biting into his bottom lip as his mind wandered, “what? What’s the matter?” Y/N asked.
Sirius sighed as he rubbed his hand against his jaw, his eyebrows knitting together, “I don’t know why, maybe it’s because we haven’t heard from Peter in a while and I’m worried about him. But, I’ve got the feeling that something bad is going to happen. I can’t really explain it, it’s just a feeling. When your parents get here I’m going to check on James and Lily.”
Y/N didn’t look at him like he was crazy, instead it looked like she understood and she nodded distractedly as she gazed out of the window, “I know,” she whispered, “I know because I have the same feeling, I’ll go with you.”
Sirius appreciated the offer but he couldn’t worry about Y/N too, he could very well be walking to his death, “no sweetheart, thank you but I can’t worry about you too,” he sighed as he cupped her jaw.
Y/N frowned, a look of hurt flickering across her face that made Sirius’ heart constrict but she nodded all the same, knowing it was useless to argue, “okay but you have to be careful.”
That evening, Sirius kissed his daughter goodbye and Y/N’s fingers clutched at his leather jacket as she kissed him passionately, “come back to me Sirius, promise me. I love you.”
Sirius smiled, hoping it would disguise the fear that he felt, “I will, I promise. I love you too Y/N,” with one last lingering kiss and longing look he took off into the night clenching the wand in his pocket.
As soon as he rounded the corner time seemed to stand still as he heard an awful anguished cry, like some sort of wounded animal and he knew that he was too late, as Sirius approached he saw that it was Hagrid. Hagrid was sobbing with a tiny bundle in his arms. Sirius looked behind Hagrid and saw with sorrow that the Potter’s cottage had been destroyed. So many happy memories and promises of the future were gone, lost forever.
“James and Lily are dead, ‘e killed ‘em,” Hagrid sniffled, looking at Sirius with watery black eyes, “’e couldn’t kill Harry, ‘e couldn’t.”
At Hagrid’s words, Sirius’ knees almost buckled as a terrible sadness washed over him as the breath was stolen from his lungs. His best friends were dead, they couldn’t be, they were only twenty one. He couldn’t imagine why someone would betray him, Peter was the Secret Keeper but it couldn’t be Peter. Peter couldn’t have betrayed them. But, as Sirius looked at the ruined cottage, he knew that Hagrid spoke the truth. Choking on his tears, Sirius held out his arms.
“Give Harry to me Hagrid, I’m his godfather, I can keep him sage,” he looked down at the tiny baby with the split open head and felt an almost overwhelming rush of love for him. He had to protect Harry, with his life if it came to that.
Hagrid however shook his head, “I need to take him to his relatives, Dumbledore’s orders. Harry could still be in danger.”
Panic washed over Sirius, he couldn’t let Dumbledore take him away, “no! He can’t, he,” he trailed off as he choked on a sob. He hated it but he also knew that Dumbledore always got his way, no matter what the cost. But even Sirius had to admit that Harry could still be in danger for Death Eater’s so he couldn’t stay.
“Take my motorbike, it’ll be safer,” Sirius had charmed his motorbike to fly a couple of years back, “can I say goodbye to him?” he sniffled.
Hagrid looked at him warily but he nodded all the same and passed Harry over. Fighting back tears, Sirius looked down at the tiny baby in his arms, the baby who was whimpering and crying, the baby who didn’t know that his parents were dead. He sniffed as he bent down to kiss the top of Harry’s head, whispering into his jet black hair.
“You’re going to be okay Harry, I promise you, and you’re going to grow up to be an amazing wizard. You’re the boy who lived, I love you Harry,” with a heavy heart Sirius passed his godson back to Hagrid, “goodbye Hagrid,” Sirius nodded numbly at him before striding away, anger mixed in with sadness. He was going to find whoever had betrayed them and he was going to make them pay. He was going to kill them.
It was down a dark and crooked alleyway that Sirius cornered a rat – literally – it was the last person that he had expected, someone that he had once called a friend. The coward turned and looked at him with watery beady eyes and he was wheezing heavily, almost like he was in pain. Sirius had never felt so much fury and pain all at once. How could Peter do this? How could Peter be the one who had betrayed them?
Then Sirius saw it, Peter pointed at him with shaking hands and Sirius saw that there was a bloody stump where his first finger had been.
“Lily and James, Sirius! How could you? They were our friends! How could you?” Peter screamed, his face was stark white and he was shaking violently.
Sirius knew what Peter was doing and he held onto his wand that was in his pocket; Peter was trying to get people’s attention. Peter was going to pin this on Sirius, “you can’t blame this on me Peter because this was all you! Tell me why! Tell me why you killed them; your betrayal was their death sentence!” Sirius’ voice was drowned out by the noise of Peter’s screams and shouts. He was going to wake the whole street.
Suddenly, there was a flash so bright and a bang do loud that Sirius had to lose his eyes, when he opened them, Peter was gone and there was a rat scampering down the grid, “no!” Sirius screamed, the only thing that Peter had left behind was his finger. The coward might have faked his own death but Sirius would find him. No matter what corner of the earth that the piece of filth ran to, Sirius would find him.
------------------------------------
You anxiously bounced your leg as you chewed your nails, glancing at the clock on the mantelpiece, out of the corner of your eye you saw your parents looking worriedly at each other before back at you. They were worried about you and unfortunately, you knew the feeling, you knew the feeling all too well. Sirius had been gone for about 15 minutes, he only went to check on Lily and James, they only lived down the road, he shouldn’t have taken so long. What if something awful had happened to them? Ever since you had woken up this morning, you couldn’t help feeling that something awful was going to happen.
Five more minutes passed and you decided that you couldn’t take it anymore so you jumped up, startling your parents, “he’s been gone for too long, I need to go to him.”
Your mum let out a little whimper as she cupped your cheeks, she looked scared half to death, “you can’t Y/N, because it’s too dangerous. Sirius wouldn’t want you to put yourself in danger.”
“I know, but I have to go to him. I have to see if he’s okay, I love him mum.”
Your mum sighed as she hugged you tight, stroking through your hair, “you’ve always been so brave Y/N,” she bit her lip, “go but be careful. Please be careful, I don’t know what I’d do if anything happened to you.”
You nodded with a tight smile as worry curdled in your stomach before you ran out of the door into the swirling snow. The wind howled as you walked down James and Lily’s street, it was deathly quiet and your blood ran cold with dread. You hardly noticed the ruined little cottage; instead, your attention was focused on Sirius getting roughly shoved away by three men. Tears sprang to your eyes as you realised that they were Ministry Officials.
“Sirius!” you screamed as you ran towards him, trying not to slip in the snow, the Ministry Officials looked startled as one of them put out an arm to stop you, “let me see him! Where are you taking him?” you sobbed but you knew.
“Y/N!” Sirius looked over his shoulder as he was getting shoved along the road, the tear tracks and despair was visible on his face and it broke your heart, “James and Lily are dead! I didn’t do it; I had nothing to do with it! You have to believe me, Y/N please believe me! No matter what you hear! Harry is safe.”
James and Lily were dead, how could they be dead? It couldn’t be true but you noticed the ruined cottage and Sirius looked so heartbroken that you had to believe it, you believed they were dead. You sniffled as tears ran down your cheeks; you thought that you were all going to be together forever.
“I believe you,” you sobbed, the expression on Sirius’ face made you believe him.
“I love you, always will,” he gave you a tight smile but before you could reply he was gone, the Ministry Officials had apparated with him.
You sobbed as you sank to the ground, your knees getting damp with the snow, your heart too much, you could hardly stand it. You just wanted the pain to go away, “I love you too,” you whimpered, “Sirius!” you shouted, “Sirius,” you cried but you knew that it was no use, he was gone, he had disappeared into the swirling snow.
By the next day, the news was out; Sirius had been sent to Azkaban, convicted of betraying the Potters and for killing Peter, along with numerous other Muggles. The newspaper painted him to be a monster but you knew that it wasn’t true, it couldn’t be true. Sirius would never do anything to hurt James and Lily, or Peter, they were his best friends. There must be some sort of misunderstanding; you believed that he was innocent.
Your parents were amazing, for the first couple of months they had moved themselves into your cottage so they could help out with you and your daughter. They too believed that Sirius was innocent; they saw the expression on your face that night, the night that James and Lily had died. As your daughter grew up, you told your daughter tales of her father, you wouldn’t let her believe that he was guilty of murder. You were going to let her know that he was a hero.
Eleven Years Later
You sighed as the tawny owl flew right in through your kitchen window, dropping the letter on the kitchen counter before flying out of the open window into the warm air. Sniffing, you picked up the letter; this letter just like numerous others had been sent back from Azkaban. Anxiously, you twisted your engagement ring on your finger; you just wanted to let Sirius know that he was going to be okay.
After eleven years it still hurt so much, it hurt that you didn’t have the chance to marry before James and Lily died and it hurt that he couldn’t watch his daughter grow up. All the things he should have been a part of, all those things he had missed.
You heard a squeal coming from upstairs and seconds later you heard the pitter patter of feet on carpet before your daughter ran into the kitchen, waving a letter around, “I got it mum! I got my Hogwarts letter!”
Blinking the tears out of your eyes, you pasted a smile onto your face and you turned around to look at your grinning daughter. She looked so happy, you were glad for this one little bit of good news.
You stroked your fingers through her soft hair, “you’re going to be amazing baby! Your dad would be so proud of you.”
-Fin-
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senadimell · 4 years
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If you've got time to share, I'd love to hear more about your thoughts around Snape and Lupin.
@deathdaydungeon, here you are!
After a conversation with @frederick-the-great, I’ve been thinking about Lupin, Snape, and what they say about morality in HP. I’m not talking about the troublesome white hats, black hats morality, but am instead looking at from this angle: Lupin is nice and well-liked, but often lacks a backbone, whereas Snape is mean and disliked, but incredibly brave. Which is more important? I find Harry’s last sacrifice to be a useful point by which we measure their impact.
Lupin and Snape useful to compare on several important fronts.
As foils for each others’ teaching methods
The way they deal with social disadvantage
Their connections to Harry’s father and how they pass on James’ legacy
1) They both teach at Hogwarts, and are foils for each other in many ways. Snape is mean and takes away points. He’s seen as selfish. His classes are hard and unpleasant for Harry. He’s mean to Neville, and rather than encouraging him, mocks him and belittles him, which just adds to the overall disaster of Neville’s poor self-esteem mixing badly with potions class.
However, even Umbridge admits that Snape’s teaching methods work, and she’s working for Fudge who doesn’t like Death Eaters and has been defied by Snape in GoF, so we know he’s effective for a lot of people, if not Neville.
Yet, for all that, Snape saves Harry’s life multiple times. On top of that, Snape wants to keep the fact that he saved Harry’s life a secret.
“Very well. Very Well. But never--Never tell, Dumbledore! This must be between us! Swear it, I cannot bear...especially Potter’s son...I want your word!
My word, Severus, that I will never reveal the best of you? Dumbledore sighed, looking down into Snape’s ferocious, anguished face. “If you insist...”
DH 679, The Prince’s Tale
Conversely, Lupin is nice and rewards points. He’s seen as generous. His classes are fun and interesting for Harry. He’s kind to Neville, and expresses confidence in him that leads him to succeed and do well. That confidence is a huge part of Neville’s character development. I doubt he’d grow into the resistance leader in DH if not for the many times teachers expressed confidence in him, like Dumbledore in PS, Lupin in PoA, Fake!Moody in GoF, and Harry in OotP. Harry certainly approves of his methods:
“You’re the best Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher we’ve ever had!” said Harry. “Don’t go!”
PoA 424, Owl Post Again
However, it’s worth noticing that Hermione does worse on his exam than we ever see. She fails the Boggart test, and she and Harry were the only two people not permitted to experience the Boggart in class. Lupin’s teaching methods aren’t foolproof. Despite that, he’s overall seen as a nice guy and good teacher.
Yet Lupin endangers Harry’s life. The secrets he keeps are dangerous: his secret to keep is that he’s a werewolf and  actively endangered three students lives with his negligence, as well as the fact that he hid a secret about a believed and convicted mass murderer to save face with Dumbledore.
“That was still really dangerous! Running around in the dark with a werewolf! What if you’d given the others the slip, and bitten somebody?”
“A thought that still haunts me,” Lupin said heavily. “And there were near misses, many of them. We laughed about them afterwards. We were young, thoughtless--carried away with out own cleverness.
“I sometimes felt guilty about betraying Dumbledore’s trust, of course....he had admitted me to Hogwarts when no other headmasters would have done so, and he had no idea I was breaking the rules he had set down for my own and others’ safety. He never knew I had led three fellow students into becoming Animagi illegally. But I always managed to forget my guilty feelings every time we sat down to plan our next month’s adventure. And I haven’t changed...
Lupin’s face had hardened, and there was self-disgust in his voice. “All this year I have been battling with myself, wondering whether I should tell Dumbledore that Sirius was an Animagus. But I didn’t do it. Why? Because I was too cowardly. It would have meant admitting that I’d betrayed his tryst while I was at school, admitting that I’d led others along with me...and Dumbledore’s trust has meant everything to me. He let me into Hogwarts as a boy, and he gave me a job when I have been shunned all my adult life, unable to find paid work because of what I am. And so I convinced myself that Sirius was getting into the school using Dark Arts he learned from Voldemort, that being an Animagus had nothing to do with it...so in a way, Snape’s been right about me all along.”
PoA 355, Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot, and Prongs
Plan is emphasized because those trips that ended in “near misses” weren’t some impulsive romp. They were planned and coordinated in advance.
“I just saw Hagrid,” said Harry. “And he said you’d resigned. It’s not true, is it?”
“I’m afraid it is, said Lupin. He stared opening his desk drawers and taking out the contents.
“Why?” said Harry. The Ministry of Magic don’t think you were helping Sirius, do they?”
Lupin crossed to the door and closed it behind Harry.
“No. Professor Dumbledore managed to convince Fudge that I was trying to save your lives.” He sighed. “That was the final straw for Severus. I think* the loss of the Order of Merlin hit him hard. So he--er--accidentally let slip that I am a werewolf this morning at breakfast.”
“You’re not leaving because of that!” said Harry.
Lupin smiled wryly.
“This time tomorrow, the owls will start arriving from parents ....They will not want a werewolf teaching their children, Harry. And after last night, I see their point. I could have bitten any of you...That must never happen again.
“You’re the best Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher we’ve ever had!” said Harry. “Don’t go!”
PoA 424, Owl Post Again
What strikes me about this conversation is how Lupin shifts the blame around. This doesn’t start with an admission of guilt. He’s not leaving because the parents are right. He’s not leaving because he’s seen how dangerous he can be, or because he owns up to making an incredibly dangerous decision. He’s leaving because Snape forced his hand. If Snape didn’t do that, he would do the same thing he’s always been doing: sweeping his misdoing under the rug and promising himself privately that he’s going to change, but never doing it.
It’s always someone else’s fault for Lupin. That’s a neat tie in to the next point of comparison:
2. Lupin and Snape both experience marginalization in wizarding society, but in very different ways. Lupin faces socio-legal** marginalization and Snape faces socio-economic marginalization.
Lupin’s a werewolf. We see how prejudice affects his life, from his inability to find a job and his worn out clothes to his people-pleasing nature. He’s always acting nice and harmless. He does nothing to play into the condemning stereotypes he’s faced since childhood. Despite that, he still can’t find a job. Nobody will hire him, and people are scared to interact with him. From the way he talks about werewolves, it’s implied that this prejudice is held blindly across Wizarding society. Both Ron and Hermione are horrified to learn Lupin’s a werewolf. *** Later on, he’s legally limited in the kinds of jobs he holds and the kind of magic he’s allowed to perform. Lupin has no control over his transformations, and did not choose his condition.
Lupin’s not really wrong when pities himself. The odds really are stacked against him when he’s treated as if he’s a wolf 24/7, not just a few predictable times a month. His prospects are honestly awful.
The problem is, his condition is dangerous. Thus, the issue of victim blaming is particularly thorny for Lupin. He can’t just accept that he’s a monster for something he has no say over, and yet he can’t escape the fact that sometimes he is monstrous for reasons out of his control. He feels guilty for the people he could have hurt, but also seems to resent that people blame him for something that’s not his fault. The problem is that he carries that lack of accountability into spheres where he should be accountable, like not taking his medication and endangering children because of it.
Snape’s story is very different. He is poor in both the wizard and muggle worlds, and half-blooded, and was sorted into Slytherin as a child. He doesn’t have one condition against him, but checks boxes that make it hard for any one side to accept him. He’s too impure and poor to survive on his own for the Slytherin, but is a Slytherin with Death Eater friends and housemates interested in dark magic, which means he’s never going to fit in with the Order of the Phoenix crowd, especially when some of its members torment him at school. ****4
 This essay makes a convincing point that the wizarding world is not a meritocracy, and that people like Snape need powerful patronage to advance if they don’t have the money to support themselves.
I don’t consider the sorting a proper choice. I know Harry does, but I’m of the opinion that at age 11, very few people have been taught how to analyze different perspectives and make an informed decision. Most 11-year-olds are trained to obey their parents and accept their family’s ideology. Harry’s choice rests on very little evidence--most of what he knows is what Hagrid told him, and that he doesn’t want to be sorted into Voldemort’s house along with Draco Malfoy, someone who reminds him of Dudley. I don’t think Snape was very informed either (I’d love to know why), because he doesn’t realize why it Lily wouldn’t be sorted into Slytherin.
“You’d better be in Slytherin,” said Snape, encouraged that she had brightened a little. DH 671, The Prince’s Tale
Either the pureblood rhetoric just wasn’t strong in those days, or his mother didn’t tell him about that.
...“Where are you heading, if you’ve got the choice?”
James lifted an invisible sword.
“’Gryffindor, where dwell the brave at heart!’ Like my dad.”
Snape made a small, disparaging noise. James turned on him.
“Got a problem with that?”
“No,” said Snape, though his slight sneer said otherwise. “If you’d rather be brawny than brainy--”
DH 671-2, The Prince’s Tale
It seems that most people just follow familial preferences. As to why Snape wants to be in Ravenclaw over Slytherin, my preferred interpretation is that he had a family legacy, knew that Slytherin rewarded the ambitious and clever, and that Slughorn, the head of Slytherin house, had a knack for making the kind of connections that a poor, clever boy would need to succeed.
Nevertheless, once Snape was in Slytherin, the odds were stacked against him. The house in that era was full of people who would later be Death Eaters. “Dark Magic” wasn’t frowned upon among his housemates, and siding with Voldemort wasn’t yet widely acknowledged as a transgression by wider society.
“No, no, but believe me, [Sirius’ parents] thought Voldemort had the right idea, they were all for the purification of the wizarding race, getting rid of Muggle-borns and having pure-bloods in charge. They weren’t alone either, there were quite a few people, before Voldemort showed his true colors, who thought he had the right idea about things.…” OotP 112
Additionally, people like Bellatrix were in the years above him, and given how Fred and George acted with younger students, I think it’s highly likely younger students had to find a place in the hierarchy or be the target of ‘pranks.’ He was a halfblood, after all, and dirt poor.
Snape knew these people. He ate with them, slept with them, and went to class with them. It is so much easier to understand and befriend someone you spend time with. I’d say that most people who subscribe to problematic ideologies aren’t just awful to be around all the time, or else these movements wouldn’t gain any traction. They’re likely funny and nice to be around if you’re not on their bad side.
In addition to strong peer pressure to befriend the people who would be death eaters, he was also bullied four to one. His bullies received protection from the headmaster when he was nearly killed or permanently maimed. They were popular and well liked.
The best analogy I’ve heard to describe Snape's Hogwarts situation is that he’s a kid in a rough neighborhood who joins the local gang. It provides protection and the hope of social mobility, and from his perspective, the other gang fights just as dirty (his treatment by the marauders). He doesn’t stop to think that the system is flawed, or that the gang’s very existence indicates the failure of authority and threatens its members. He just sees himself as a kid with nothing who needs help with protection and advancement. We know that Voldemort hasn’t shown his true colors, and it’s possible he showed different faces to different people.
‘Now, yer mum an’ dad were as good a witch an’ wizard as I ever knew. Head Boy an’ Girl at Hogwarts in their day! Suppose the myst’ry is why You-Know-Who never tried to get ’em on his side before ... probably knew they were too close ter Dumbledore ter want anythin’ ter do with the Dark Side.
‘Maybe he thought he could persuade ’em ... maybe he just wanted ’em outta the way. All anyone knows is, he turned up in the village where you was all living, on Hallowe’en ten years ago. You was just a year old. He came ter yer house an’ – an’ –’ (“The Keeper of the Keys”)
Dumbledore’s cited as the reason they turned him down, not their blood status. I think there’s evidence that the wholesale anti-muggleborn campaign wasn’t a huge part of the first wizarding war, and wasn’t implemented until the second, even if there was anti-muggle propaganda. (Muggle=/=muggleborn). It’s implied that Tobias is abusive and that Snape hates him for what he did to him and his mother; it’s implied that faced class prejudice by the muggles around him as well:
“I know who you are. You’re that Snape boy! They live down Spinner’s End by the river,” she told Lily, and it was evident from her tone that she considered the address  a poor recommendation.
DH 665, The Prince’s Tale
When you read stories about people who are able to escape cycles of gang violence and poverty, there’s almost always someone who lifts them out. There’s someone who pushes them, or extends a hand, or believes in them. There are community outreach programs, or churches, or an English teacher that pushed them to do better and try out for a scholarship. That person is usually someone who knows what it’s like and knows how hard it is to get out.
Snape doesn’t seem to get that support anywhere. Slughorn doesn’t seem to notice him, for whatever reason. Lily doesn’t approve of his friends, but also doesn’t understand at all what the pull is--that it’s hard to swim against the current of what everyone else is saying, despite the fact that she feels the same pressure to end her friendship with Snape.
“… thought we were supposed to be friends?” Snape was saying. “Best friends?” “We are, Sev, but I don’t like some of the people you’re hanging round with! I’m sorry, but I detest Every and Mulciber! Mulciber! What do you see in him, Sev, he’s creepy! D’you know what he tried to do to Marry Macdonald the other day?”
DH 673, The Prince’s Tale
In the very same conversation, the fact that Snape is not allowed to share what happened to him with Lupin and the werewolf incident means that Lily will never be able to understand what Snape is facing: That the leader of the good guys makes excuses for and protects people who recklessly endanger the lives of others.
“And you’re being really ungrateful. I heard what happened the other night. You went sneaking down that tunnel by the Whomping Wollow, and James Potter saved you from whatever’s down there--”
Snape’s whole face contorted and he spluttered, “Saved? Saved? You think he was playing the hero? He was saving his neck and his friends’ too!...”
DH 674, The Prince’s Tale
Later in the year after SWM, she tells Snape this:
“None of my friends can understand why I even talk to you.”
DH 675 The Prince’s Tale
She expects him to reject all of his classmates and stand against the tide, despite the fact that she knows how hard it is to do that and can’t comprehend why he sticks with his classmates. She expects him to be grateful to James Potter as if what he did was altruistic, because the Headmaster swore Snape to secrecy and he keeps his promises, despite the fact that someone else was spreading the story. (The fact that she says she heard it instead of talking about it like its common knowledge implies that she heard it from a friend, so our friends the Marauders likely weren’t keeping their lips zipped even if Snape was.)
I don’t say this to shift the blame away from Snape to Lily in regards to Snape joining the Death Eaters. I just want to point out that Lily wasn't someone who could help him break the cycle. He didn’t squander some chance she offered him. She just wasn’t enough to break him out--not empathetic, motivated, or well-informed enough. (I think the fact that they were peers plays a big role in that).
Ultimately, Snape did choose to join the Death Eaters. He did yield to peer pressure. He did obey his assignment and report the prophecy to Voldemort. He spent his youth yielding, following the path in front of him, and choosing what was probably the easier choice: stick with your group, find powerful friends, do what they want, and don’t ask too many questions about their methods. That’s what makes his decision to betray Voldemort so powerful to me.
Here’s part of the passage when Snape betrays Voldemort:
...The adult Snape was panting, turning on the spot, his wand gripped tightly in his hand, waiting for something or for someone...His fear infected Harry too, even though he knew that he could not be harmed, and he looked over his shoulder wondering what it was that Snape was waiting for--
Then a sliding, jagged jet of white light flew through the air. Harry thought of lightning, but Snape had dropped to his knees and his wand had flown out of his hand.
“Don’t kill me!”
DH 676, The Prince’s Tale
He was terrified. He knew he was caught between the world’s two most powerful wizards, but it was worth it if he could save his childhood friend.
Then when Lily dies:
“Her son lives. He has her eyes, precisely her eyes. You remember the share and color of Lily Evans’s eyes, I am sure?”
“DON’T!” bellowed Snape. “Gone...dead...”
“Is this remorse, Severus?”
“I wish..I wish I were dead....”
“And what use would that be to anyone?” said Dumbledore coldly.
DH 678, The Prince’s Tale
Whatever motivation Snape had before is gone. A person’s life who is not his own is worth more than his own, and he’s drowning in guilt. From now on, Snape works to be useful in saving Harry’s life, and later many lives, at risk of death. His choices are a black mark on his record, likely making it difficult for him to get a job when he’s been tried as a Death Eater, and all of his wizarding connections are Death Eaters or their associates. He has no money or influence. Dumbledore hires him.
So Lupin has a single ailment and faces constant social and legal discrimination. He constantly tries to undermine people’s expectations about werewolves by being mild, but unfortunately is too afraid of rejection and its consequences to stand up against bad behavior or take full responsibility for his failings. He has friends who support him, but do it by engaging in risky behavior. He does not stop them. Perhaps he fears exposure and expulsion. Perhaps he just likes belonging for once. Either way, he does not come clean until forced to.
Snape is different; instead of facing outright rejection, he’s from a poor background and grows up surrounded by peers who join something somewhere between a gang and a cult while being bullied by people groomed by a rival organization. The headmaster of his school supports the rival organization and swears him to secrecy about an incident when they endangered his life, sending the message that his life is worthless. That same group continues to publicly bully him. He continues down this path until he realizes that it endangers something he cares about, and makes a decision that puts him at risk of being killed by the two most powerful wizards alive. He changes course.
Snape seems to view his problems as challenges facing him, whereas Lupin sees his problems as part of who he is, and not something he can change. Lupin seems to accept what happens to him in a fatalist kind of way. He sees what happens as inevitable and somewhat out of his control, whereas Snape never seems to blame his circumstances for him becoming a death eater, even though they clearly limited his options. I think that attitude matters. However, because Lupin’s facing a fictional magical malady, it’s difficult to fully blame him for that attitude.
Both Lupin and Snape have to react to powerful societal pressure that makes it difficult for them to succeed. Comparing them is apples and oranges at best, because their circumstances were so different. I don’t think you can judge either’s morality based on group identity, though.
3. Finally, they both act as a window on James: who he was, and what he means to Harry, who never knew him. That means in some way, they help pass on his parental legacy to orphaned Harry.
Hogwarts is Harry’s home, which means that the teachers are more than just teachers, but play a symbolic parental role in his life.
Hogwarts was the first and best home he had known. He and Voldemort and Snape, the abandoned boys, had all found home here.
DH 697, The Forest Again
You can’t understand Harry without realizing what he lacks: a loving home and living parents. He’s always looking into the past to find his parents, and is saddled with a legacy he struggles to understand--why did he live, who were his parents, and what does he need to do now?
Lupin and Snape also share a connection with Harry that goes beyond a normal teacher-student relationship, unlike McGonagall or Flitwick. Snape and Lupin are more personally connected to Harry than the other professors because they know Harry’s parents and went to school with them. I will mostly focus on James from here on out since we know so little about Lily personally and Harry mostly tries to emulate or avoid his father’s behavior and legacy.
They’re also the last people who knew James to survive, and they die almost at the same time. They’re the only teachers apart from Dumbledore who give Harry private lessons. More importantly, these lessons are all tied thematically to Harry’s past. Harry’s experience with dementors and the patronus charm are his first re-encounter with his parents and his past.
Terrible though it was to hear his parents’ last moments replayed inside his head, these are the only times Harry had heard their voices since he was a very small child. But he’d never be able to produce a proper patronus if he half wanted to hear his parents again.
PoA 243, The Patronus
In the end of PoA, Harry sees himself and mistakenly thinks it’s his father.
“Come on!” he muttered, staring about. “Where are you? Dad, come on--”
But no one came. Harry raised his head to look atet he circle of dementors across the lake. One of them was lowering its hood. It was time for the rescuer to appear--but no one was coming to help this time--
And then it hit him--he understood. He hadn’t seen his father--he had seen himself--
Harry flung himself out from behind the bush and pulled out his want.
“EXPECTO PATRONUM!” he yelled.
PoA 411, Hermione’s Secret
So the patronus itself is linked up with Harry’s past, and his coming-of-age. He doesn’t rely on others to save him, but must do it himself. (Though Harry’s never really trusted the adults to save him.)  It’s interesting to note that Harry actually learns the Patronus charm under Lupin’s tutelage.
On the other hand, Snape introduces Harry to the unpleasant side of his father’s legacy. Through Snape, we see that James wasn’t just a little cocky, but a bully.
“Apologize to Evans!” James roared at Snape, his wand pointed threateningly at him. “I don't want you to make him apologize,” Lily shouted, rounding on James. “You're as bad as he is.” “What?” yelped James. “I'd NEVER call you a--you-know-what!” “Messing up your hair because you think it looks cool to look like you've just got off your broomstick, showing off with that stupid Snitch, walking down corridors and hexing anyone who annoys you just because you can--I'm surprised your broomstick can get off the ground with that fat head on it. You make me SICK.” She turned on her heel and hurried away.
....
He had no desire at all to return to Gryffindor Tower so early, nor to tell Ron and Hermione what he had just seen. What was making Harry feel so horrified and unhappy was not being shouted at or having jars thrown at him; it was that he knew how it felt to be humiliated in the middle of a circle of onlookers, knew exactly how Snape had felt as his father had taunted him, and that judging from what he had just seen, his father had been every bit as arrogant as Snape had always told him. OotP, Snape’s Worst Memory, emphasis added
It’s interesting note that Harry fails to learn Occlumency from Snape. (In fact, we never see Harry use magical skills he learned from Snape apart from Expelliarmus, which is...important). At the same time, he gains an important perspective.
You can’t have James without this part of him. However kind James was to Lupin, however brave James was when he saved his wife, he was neither kind nor brave when he bullied Snape. It’s uncomfortable and awkward, but it’s important.
When he had finished, neither Sirius nor Lupin spoke for a moment. Then Lupin said quietly, “I wouldn’t like you to judge your father on what you saw there, Harry. He was only fifteen —”
“I’m fifteen!” said Harry heatedly.
OotP
Harry rejects the idea that actively bullying someone is just folly of youth. He knows what it’s like to be disenfranchised. Regardless of what Snape and James’ relationship was, he didn’t deserve that kind of humiliation. And Lupin watched, and defends him. Harry has to grapple with that.
Ultimately, Snape and Lupin do more than just connect him to his past. They also teach him his two signature spells, Expelliarmus and Expecto Patronum. One saves his soul, and one saves his life and frees the wizarding world from Voldemort because of Voldemort’s fractured soul.
Snape and Lupin as moral counterpoints
How do we evaluate this:
“I’d never have believed this,” Harry said. “The man who taught me to fight dementors--a coward.”*****5
DH 213, The Bribe
and this?
“Albus Severus, you were named for two headmasters of Hogwarts. One of them was a Slytherin and he was probably the bravest man I ever knew.
DH 758, Seventeen years later
Ultimately, I don’t think it’s really that useful to pit two people with different backgrounds against each other. At the same time, they represent two different halves of a question: when it comes down to it, should we try to be kind or brave? I don’t think you have to pick one, but when pursuing the two, there are bound to be moments of conflict.
I always come back to the lyrics to Last Midnight from Sondheim’s Into the Woods.******6
You're so nice You're not good You're not bad You're just nice I'm not good I'm not nice I'm just right I'm the witch You're the world
Snape doesn’t care about being nice. I think this is where most non-Snape fans start pulling out the pitchforks and torches. Snape isn’t nice, and he’s not nice to kids. He’s not nurturing.*******7 He’s abrasive, allergic to coddling, and petty when he can get away with it. In fact, most of the people he’s ‘nice’ to are significantly more powerful than him, or someone he needs to be on good terms with.
Lupin is nice. He’s mild. He’s often kind. However, he often picks being liked over standing up for something.
What does that result in? He doesn’t stand up for Snape. The bullying continues and keeps Snape firmly on his path. He wins the respect of the Gryffindors with the Snape Boggart incident but loses whatever credibility he had to tell Snape to ‘put their past behind him.’
On the other hand, Neville’s bravery in DH was nurtured by Lupin’s confidence. Neville kept hope alive and led a rebellion. Lupin is one of the few adults that Harry fully respects and trusts up until the Grimmauld place confrontation. (He likes Hagrid and Molly, but doesn’t necessarily trust them to make decisions in their best interest, while he usually respects Lupin’s judgement). Harry loves him, and it’s because he loved him and watched him die that he needs to act and fight back against Voldemort.
Ultimately, Harry’s relationship with James and the adults who pass on his legacy is one of the most important symbolic relationships in the book. The thematic resolution of the series is Harry’s act of sacrificial love.
He did not know what to feel, except shock at the way Snape had been killed, and the reason for which it had been done....
...He could not bear to look at any of the other bodies, to see who else had died for him. He could not bear to join the Weasleys, could not look into their eyes, when if he had given himself up in the first place, Fred might never had died...
He turned away and ran up the marble staircase. Lupin, Tongs...He yearned not to feel....He wished he could rip out his heart, his innards, everything that was screaming inside of him.
To escape into someone else’s head would be a blessed relief....Nothing that even Snape had left him could be worse than his own thoughts.
DH 660-662, The Prince’s Tale
He rushes to the headmaster’s office to escape into Snape's memories. His memories convince Harry that sacrificing himself is the expedient thing to do, and he heads to the Forbidden Forest. To enable is last sacrifice, he uses the Resurrection stone to witness his parents and his father’s friends. Their combined testimony is enough to ameliorate his personal fears about following through with this final act.
Lupin and Snape leave entirely different legacies behind. Lupin encourages and inspires. As an authority figure, he gives people like Neville space to grow and his compassion towards Harry gives him the strength to face his demons. Harry’s decision in DH to die must have something to do with the kindness he was shown, and the sacrifices people who loved him made for him, of which Lupin is a part. Despite what he saw in Princes’ Tale, Snape wasn’t one of the people who’d make an appearance with the Resurrection stone.
Yet Snape sacrificed his life for Harry and the wizarding world, entities that Snape didn’t seem to like and that certainly weren’t kind to him. His form of bravery is about endurance, tenacity, and willingness to do what is right even when you hate your allies and no one else is going to credit you for what you do. And that’s very Harry. Even if he hates Draco, he’s not about to let him die if he can help it. Harry has much more in common with Snape than Lupin, I think.
Since this is about souls, let’s return to the Patronus charm. Snape’s not the kind of person who typically inspires that kind of emotion required to cast a Patronus in others, at least from what we see in Harry’s perspective. Yet because he has experienced that love, he can cast it and shows Harry what needs to be done. Snape enables Harry to dive under the ice. Lupin’s the kind of person who can inspire a patronus, but isn’t the one to make the sacrifice play until after Harry confronts him about his duty to his family. Ultimately, though, they both sacrifice themselves in the Battle of Hogwarts.
* Ever since I realized how blatantly tangential Order of Merlin must be to Snape’s character motivation, that line has frustrated me to no end. There’s no way frothing-at-the-mouth PoA Snape just really coveted that Order of Merlin. He’s often petty, yeah, but if Lupin believes it’s just about that and has nothing to do with Snape’s real conviction about how dangerous Lupin’s actions were, he’s deluding himself. I hate that he passes it on to his students.
**Yes, I am making up words today. Lupin’s faces prejudice and discrimination on a social level enforced by increasingly powerful discriminatory laws.
*** It’s worth noting that if we take every book as equally valid canon, then there’s either widespread ignorance towards lycanthropy, as Lockhart convinces everyone he was able to “cure” the Wagga-Wagga werewolf, and as teenage Horcrux!Riddle said Hagrid raised werewolf cubs under his bed, or else lycanthropy is actually a wide range of conditions under a wolfy umbrella ranging from treatable to incurable. Lupin is our primary source for lycanthropy: he’s the one who tells us about Greyback, for example. If we hold the first two books as equally valid, then perhaps we only know about Lupin’s particular type of condition. That’s the Watsonian analysis, anyways.
****4 These footnotes are getting ridiculous. Basically, there’s no consensus on what Dark Magic is, and on what basis it’s Evil. This essay goes into things that are labelled as curses. I’m inclined to believe that the vast majority of Dark Magic is just Magic We Don’t Like for Reasons.
The definition of what is and isn't considered Dark Magic is never explained: often it just seems to mean "a curse I don't approve of".  Even "curse" has never been satisfactorily defined, but we can certainly say that not all curses are regarded as evil, since some appear to be on the Hogwarts curriculum, and are certainly performed without censure.
*****5 While I paired the quotes at the top of this section together for dramatic effect, it’d be a shame not to look at the context of the Lupin fight.
“I thought you’d say [that your mission was top secret],” said Lupin, looking disappointed. But I might still be of some use to you. You know what I am and what I can do. I could come with you to provide protection. There would be no need to tell me exactly what you were up to. Harry hesitated. It was a very tempting offer.
Hermione then asks about Tonks.
“I’m pretty sure my father would have wanted to know why you aren’t sticking with your own kid, actually”... ...“I’d never have believed this,” Harry said. “The man who taught me to fight dementors--a coward.”
...“Parents shouldn’t leave their kids unless--unless they’ve got to.”
...“I know I shouldn’t have called him a coward.”“No, you shouldn’t,” said Ron at once. “But he’s acting like one. “ “All the same...” said Hermione.
“I know,” said Harry. “But if it makes him go back to Tonks, it’ll be worth it, won’t it?”
He could not keep the plea out of his voice. Hermione looked sympathetic, Ron uncertain. Harry looked down at his feet, thinking of his father. Would James have backed Harry in what he had said to Lupin, or would he have bene angry at how his son had treated his old friend?
DH 213, The Bribe
Harry feels personally betrayed that someone who has a family and child would abandon them. Here he is unyielding and accusing to someone he cares about in the hopes that they re-evaluate what matters. It’s a rather Snape-like tactic, actually. Or else a Dumbledore one.
I love the dialogue in this scene, but have some major issues with how Harry’s internalization drops out the window for shock value. JKR does the same thing when has Harry pull the Veritaserum trick in HBP. I don’t like it.
******6 The witch and Snape aren’t perfect analogues, since she’s decidedly more amoral in my opinion, but they’re both contractually-motivated characters whose humanity is shown by their (platonic/familial) love for a more “innocent” character and the guilt at the innocent character’s sacrificial death. Guilt doesn’t lead the witch to do anything productive, and for Snape it does, which is where they diverge on the character path.
*******7 Draco may be an exception to this. However, watching Snape struggle to build rapport with Draco in HBP leads me to think that while Snape’s been on Draco’s side, he’s still not “nurturing,” or in other words, good at cultivating trust and encouraging the strong and wholesome parts of someone’s personality to grow.  
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douxparadies · 3 years
Text
Butterfly effect
SUMMARY: Draco knows when his life was ruined, when the selection hat shouted Gryffindor over his head instead of Slytherin.
Pairing: slight Draco Malfoy x Oc 
Word Count: 13k.
A/N: This idea had been going around in my mind for quite some time and, only now, I managed to pass it on to the keyboard. I hope you like it, as I like to write it.
This idea quickly covers the original books, but perhaps if they like it, it will cover a little more of their adult life or some particular time. This story might actually be a long story in some future, but it is still in meditation.
                                                        ♦♦♦
 Draco Malfoy has a perfect life, is a pure blood and is at the top of the wizarding society. His life was always surrounded by perfection, even if his father was sometimes too strict, it was the best for him. The supremacy of blood, his father insisted every day, as if he had to engrave it in his memory. His mother, although she did not seem to support him in everything, not that she complained, was the perfect wife who obeyed her husband. So, he grows up tough, he can't play all the time and he has to be perfect like his family.
We are better.
She remembers her father commenting one day in Diagon Alley, pointing to the family of red hair. His father is the man he admires, so when he sees him despise others, he does the same.
But his life does not go as planned.
Draco can define the exact moment and the word that ruins his life from an early age. Where his whole perfect world falls apart in a single moment, where the nightmare seems to begin and where his life gives an unexpected change from what it should have been.
“Gryffindor” is the cry of the hat, after a long period of deliberation in his head.
The room is completely silent.
He is petrified.
Draco had been completely sure that he would go to Slytherin, his parents were in that house, that was his destiny. Almost as a joke he remembers his father wanting to send him to Durmstrang, but his mother changing her mind because she wanted to keep him close to home. How much he would have wished not to be in this house, how much he would have missed being at another school.
His parents were going to kill him.
He walks almost like a dead man, to that bright red table where nobody applauds and they look confused when he sits as far away as possible. He thinks of his suitcase full of green clothes, he thinks of his father who had practically demanded that he be in the snake house. He doesn't look up all night, almost clenching his fists in annoyance.
His usual arrogance, which he always imitates from his parents, doesn't show.
He doesn't have it at that moment.
He ignores that the first-year students follow their superiors, he runs following the teachers, almost skating when he sees the director talking to his godfather Snape. He had a frightened face when he was left in the lions' house. He practically begs, ignoring that his father would be ashamed, he begs to be moved from the house where he should be.
“I'm sorry, my boy, your home is now Gryffindor," Albus admits with some regret in his eyes.
Draco turns his face to Snape in a last attempt to help, but he just looks away and his hopes are dashed. There's still one left, his father would never let it end that way, he would find a way for it to go to the house it was meant to be.
But as Draco learns at a young age.
Things don't happen the way he wants them to.
Ignoring that he has to spend a week in the tower of Gryffindor, with a bunch of useless people who hate him almost as much as he hates them, ignoring above all Harry Potter (who is the last of his problems at the moment with the redheaded boy) and practically behind everything in his classes. He doesn't go out to eat if he can avoid people and just waits for the moment when his father fixes all this misunderstanding.
And it happens.
When Snape quotes him after his potions class in the principal's room, a genuine smile appears on his face as he enters and sees his father standing in front of Dumbledore. A boastful smile appears on his face when he feels that he will finally get out of the hell he has lived through in a week.
But at that moment, it was where all start.
The slap comes so quickly, that even the pain, seems not to appear and he feels that he is still in the middle of a nightmare. An ironic part inside him thinks that all this is a dream, that at any moment his mother would enter his room scolding him because they would be late. That he would be in Slytherin in a few hours.
“A complete disappointment, you can't even enter a house, what a shame to have a useless person sharing my blood” every word from his father, makes his smile fade from his face.
It makes him incredulous.
Your father sees him with hatred, as he always sees those of dirty blood, as he sees those inferior to them.
Draco turns to see everyone in the room, thinking that all this was a bad joke, that this is a nightmare, he almost begs someone to wake him up. But when he sees his mother in the distance of the room, lowering her gaze, when he sees the uncomfortable look of Snape or the pity look of the director.
Something inside him breaks.
I am a failure.
It is his thought, before turning around and running away, that he does not stop when he leaves the castle or when he enters the forbidden forest. In the middle of the forest he lets out his tears, as he kneels down embracing himself, feeling the perfect dream where he had lived this time.
It is destroyed.
                                                        ♦♦♦
Draco wonders why he still attends classes, his father had practically given up on him in an alarming way and his mother, following his father, does not send him letters or other things. It's as if he never had any parents and they never had a child, which sucked. He finds himself lost in the castle, not feeling part of the lion's house, but nowhere either. Snape sometimes seems to want to help him, but he couldn't care less. Even his housemates who hate him seem to leave him behind when they see him so depressed.
The world sucks.
It assumes when he starts eating monotonously when everyone else does, only the farthest thing from everyone else.
He is depressed.
As pathetic as that can be.
Sometimes his gaze falls on the house of the snakes, seeing them with envy and wishing he were there, everything would be easier. His parents wouldn't hate him or reject him as it happened, he would probably be the best of his generation, the popular type because of his blood. But no, he was at the bottom of the food chain, he was pathetic, with no friends, no family, no status.
He sighed, waving his boring fork at the food.
His life was ruined and he didn't know what else to do.
He always thought that the people who came to Gryffindor, were the people who were sad to see, he was indeed right. Now he was a pathetic person who was embarrassed to see that.
A person takes a seat in front of him, ignores him as best he can until he hears him clear his throat. He gives his worst death stare to Harry Potter who appears in front of him. They have been in school for a little over a month and honestly, it was not someone he wanted to see. His father always told him stories about the boy who lived, as if it was his duty to be friends with someone so popular. Who turned out to be a very simple and annoying boy.
Although he was sincere.
Now he didn't care about that.
“What do you want?” he grumbled before shoving a potato into his mouth with a bit of rudeness.
This one seemed a little uncomfortable in front of him.
“I'm sorry, Ron was being a bit of an asshole, telling me not to go near you because you're a pain in the ass, but you really look...bad” the last word comes out of his mouth with hesitation as he grimaces as he speaks.
A humorless laugh comes out of his mouth.
No one knows your misfortune.
He was a nobody.
The memory of his father's cold eyes, make him angry for no apparent reason.
“You should have listened to that blood traitor” he mumbles weakly.
Was he a blood traitor too?
His father treated him worse than one.
He notices a grimace on Harry's face.
“You're making Ron's point.”
“Look Potter, not that I'm interested, but what do you want from me?” he asks boringly this time.
Make fun?
Most of his Gryffindor ‘companions’ had clearly mocked him in the last month, about how someone of pure blood has to be with mere mortals. Like this how a Slytherin's mocked him as he passed by, saying that it was a shame that a pure-blooded person with his lineage ended up in that house. He clearly didn't fit in anywhere and was beginning to get tired of people looking for something of his own.
He didn't meet the standard they set for him.
To be a failure.
“Well, you look lonely, I thought we could be friends” says the boy with ease, who doesn't seem to be the same boy who almost rejected his friendship in the stair.
When everything was perfect and I wasn't in this horrible house.
He saw him confused, before getting up upset.
“I'm not looking for your fucking pity Potter and I'm not looking for your fucking friendship either” he grunt in anger before turning around and leaving the room.
He was angry.
He ended up in the library, feeling like a horrible book rat like the Ravenclaws, but it was the only place he felt he was calm. The only good thing was that he had taken advantage of this time to improve in all his classes, being alone and without friends, he would be a competent wizard, hoping that that way his father would not be disappointed in him.
He would be the best in his house.
Although Granger's bitch was making it difficult for him.
                                                       ♦♦♦
Childishly and still hopefully, he thought that the Christmas holidays were what he occupied, a few days away from all those Gryffindor (ignoring that he was one) and return to his home, where everything would be as it always should be. Of course, nothing goes as he hopes and the icy look on his father's face confirms that he still hates him. He tries uselessly to approach him every day, with the flame of hope, light but existing. But the only words I pronounced for him, was refusing to attend the party they used to do for Christmas.
That 24th of December, he spends in his room looking at nothing.
He felt that his family had abandoned him.
Going back to Hogwarts was stupidly better than being at home.
At least there he would just get away from everyone.
Following his plan to study as much as possible to be the best in his class and to prove to his father that he was worthy, even though he never had to work hard at anything in his life, it doesn't seem to be working. The letters he sends to his mother are mostly ignored, his father seems uninterested in acknowledging him and everything seems worse when Granger mercilessly sweeps away every damn exam.
Sometimes Potter takes a seat with him at meals, his friends seem to see him badly, but sometimes the Granger girl seems to follow him, to the grimaces of the Wesley boy, who never comes close.
“I hope you have a good day Draco” greets kindly Hermione, who seems encouraged that they are some kind of rivals in her house.
Both of them were the ones who contributed the most points.
He ignores her.
“You should come and see me play sometime,” says Harry sometimes, almost rubbing him the wrong way round, as he could get into the quidditch even though he's a year younger.
Of course.
It's Harry Potter.
But he who wants to move house, the laws cannot be flexible for him.
Ignore them both.
He ignores everyone in his first year, although when the time comes to return home, even though Harry Potter and company had to fight against, he really doesn't care what with, it ceases to be important when he is alone in a train carriage. When he arrives at the station, he can see how most children are welcomed by their family, but he feels the cold in his body when Dobby appears shyly in front of him.
His parents are busy, he says.
He laughs with irony.
His life sucks.
                                                           ♦♦♦
Being at home is more boring than being at Hogwarts, which is saying a lot. He eats at times when his father is away, his mother does not speak to him and he feels more alone than ever. He decides to go for a walk, with nothing to lose and almost wishing lightning would strike him to end that misery. He wants to get lost in the middle of the forest, never appear and stay there forever. His father had always tried to show him the pride of being a pure blood, but a part of him doesn't make sense.
His father loves prestige.
As he was no longer someone in his image, someone to be presumed, he was discarded.
He was useless.
He was not good enough for his father.
His only comment when he arrived home was that he was so useless, that a dirty blood it had beaten him on his grades.
He kicked a tree hard, not feeling the pain in his foot.
He hadn't asked for that, he hadn't asked to be in a family like that, he wanted his life before what was happening now.
“Kicking a tree is not very useful” a somewhat shrill voice speaks next to him.
He turns his face confused, not understanding where he was, he didn't know how long he had been walking and where he was, shit. The one who speaks is a girl, younger than him with red hair and brown eyes, who has clothes that do not look new and can identify as a member of the Weasley family.
As if that thought attracted them, two red hairs of identical face appear moments later.
“Look who Ginny has found.”
“Something quite curious in the forest.”
The Weasley twins speak in a somewhat scary coordination, he grimaces uncomfortably. The twins hadn't bothered him as much as others in the lion's house, but they were known as potential troublemakers.
The girl tilts her face in confusion.
He clicks his tongue.
His father would probably say something like "blood traitors" inciting him to walk away or make fun of them, but if he was sincere, his father treated him almost the same way at this point.
His stomach seems to ring at the wrong omentum and he blushes with shame.
What was missing.
The twins laugh in a not so discreet way. The girl gives them a reprimand before putting her hands on their hips and looking somewhat threatening.
He wants to die.
‘Never show weakness’
His father used to say.
“Are you hungry?” asked the girl with something like mercy.
He wants to treat her badly, he wants to run and tell everyone that he hates them, he wants the life he should have had, he doesn't want to be there.
He wants his life.
He wants to be Draco Malfoy, the powerful Slytherin he was meant to be.
But it doesn't happen, even in a world full of magic like this one, where nothing seems impossible, his wish is never fulfilled no matter how much he seems to ask for it.
“No” it is cursed that his voice comes out so hollow.
The girl's smile seems to be intact.
He feels a chill on his back.
                                                        ♦♦♦
No one says ‘No’ to Ginny Weasley, learns Draco sooner rather than later. He feels uncomfortable and in a parallel world when he enters the house of the "Weasley" family which the three children present as the burrow. He shouldn't be there, he thinks when the mother of the children sees him with big bulging eyes when they force him through the door, but a dog face to die from Ginny and commenting that he hasn't eaten anything, makes the matriarch even with doubts in her eyes, make him pass.
“This must be a joke," says Ron when he comes down to eat and sees him sitting at the table.
‘I wish’ Draco thinks ironically, thinking that this is the first time that they both agree on something.
Dinner (it's later than he thinks) is both a rumble and a twist, with the twins playing pranks on him, Ginny sitting next to him, excited and asking about Hogwarts, Ron giving him murderous looks, Percy looking confused and ignoring him for a book, even the father of the children watching him cautiously.
In spite of everything.
The dinner is quite good.
His father would probably kill him for eating something low class, along with blood traitors, but for the first time, he doesn't care. Because for the first time in a long time, the overwhelming silence of his home and the feeling of disappointing everyone is overshadowed by a meal that is too noisy.
“Why don't you stay over?”  Ginny asks innocently.
Everyone turns to see her as if she had gone mad, including him, it's not something anyone wants.
But as he learns and reaffirms.
Nobody can say no to the girl.
                                                         ♦♦♦
His parents ignore his letter where he says that he is sleeping at a friend's house, they do not ask, they do not look for him and that makes him feel worse. He could come back through the Flu network, but honestly, in this house where he does not feel comfortable, they seem to treat him better than his parents, which leaves a lot to be said. He begins to doubt Mrs. Weasley's mentality, which not only lets him stay without many explanations but also puts him in the same room as Ron.
Bad omen.
He practically vomits the way he has, so he is not surprised to sleep on the floor. What he is surprised about is how little he cares. He had never gone to sleep in someone else's house, always in his comfortable bed, surrounded by people he thought loved him. At least in that place people don't seem to ignore him completely.
Anyway, the floor is uncomfortable.
Draco does not know if Ron commented on something or started a conversation, he does not know if it was that he was too upset by his words or if he seemed resentful, what he do know is that he started the first blow. But in his defense, Ron also threw the next punch and they were both on the floor fighting like people without magic.
“For a brat in a golden cradle, you fight like a girl," he grunted before receiving a punch from him.
And it feels good.
To get out the anger and the rage he've accumulated for a year.
Fighting like a person without magic, his father would reproach him for falling so low, but he doesn't care when he throws himself on Ron and leaves him motionless on the ground. His cheek is hot and his eye is swollen, but he has never felt more alive than when Ron gave him a header to knock him down.
The sound seemed to alert the rest of the family, for I soon heard footsteps.
But he ignore them.
“You don't know how much I wish a family like yours” he grunts when Ron has punched him, he stops short, looking frozen by his sad look, even his body's pain from the struggle doesn't seem to matter “at least they don't ignore or despise me for being on Gryffindor” he adds before leaving his body flabby.
He does not want to keep fighting, he already took out the anger and his thoughts, that he never imagined having.
He?
Wanting to be part of a family of traitors, he had fallen so low, his father would probably despise him as much or more than he does now.
There is a chaos at the door that seems to have been opened long ago, before Mrs. Weasley starts to scold her son and he is pushed aside. He walks without much emotion behind the patriarch of the family, who sits him in the room and starts using magic to heal his wounds. He doesn't ask when he sees a scar on his arm, which definitely wasn't made by Ron, that it was his father's fault for throwing him a cup of hot tea that has cut him and nobody in his house wants to heal.
But this man that his father despises, treats him better than his father.
He assumes, a little late and a year after being ignored by his parents, that it is time to see people on their own and not by them.
“Life takes many unexpected turns Draco, but one thing I can tell you, is that it always gives us choices” says Arthur with a friendly smile.
He turns his uncomfortable face.
“This life has put you in Gryffindor, like a butterfly effect as the Muggles say, the little flutter of a butterfly can create a storm.”
“That sounds stupid.”
“You may be right, but what I mean is that a small change can bring about very big changes in life. I know you didn't plan to be on Gryffindor, but now you are, it's your destiny that's at stake and you can choose what decision you're going to make now”
He doesn't know if it's because he's the first adult or male figure who seems to recognize his existence or someone who seems to be able to help him. He ignores his father's mental voice, rebuking him for talking to him, he swallows all his bad thoughts, which seem to have his father's voice and not his own.
“I don't think I should have been at Gryffindor” he admits in an uncomfortable voice.
The only time he admitted that, both Snape and Dumbledore practically left him to his own devices.
A hand on his shoulder, it makes his eyes freeze in Arthur's kind.
“It's just a house, Draco, even though all my children are at Gryffindor, if my daughter Ginny went to another house, it doesn't matter, it's just a house, you're the one who decides your fate” he admits with a smile full of kindness, that he wants to make him cry.
But he holds back.
It couldn't be more pathetic.
Someone clears his throat and blushes, it seems that Mrs. Weasley has been listening for a while, because her distrustful look seems to have faded and she sees him with kindness, also some pity, but he ignores that because of her poor mental health.
“I think it's time to sleep, the twins accepted you in their room” she says with a pitiful look.
He nods before going to the twins' room, who smile politely, he thinks it's not so bad.
The next day he wakes up with purple hair.
He hates them, but laughs just as much when Ginny scolds them for being so childish, and for the first time in many days, he feels at peace.
                                                         ♦♦♦
When his father finds out where he's been, the slap comes so quickly that he can't help it, but even on the floor or that his mother seems upset for the first time, they don't compare when he's out of it, throws a cruciatus at him and something inside him, which is not the unimaginable pain, breaks. His mother screams in agitation and jumps to stop Lucius, who seems somewhat horrified at the sight of his wand, as if he doesn't believe that she did that to his son, but Draco couldn't care less. On the ground, he sees his father with a blank stare, while his mother tries to hug and comfort him.
But he doesn't.
That day he cuts off all relations with his father in a sentimental way.
His mother, on the other hand, seems to stop seeming important, because she doesn't say anything to her father and doesn't seem to do anything to stop him from ignoring him, calling him a blood traitor.
Returning to Hogwarts was a breath of fresh air.
                                                        ♦♦♦
Something changes that year, not only that Ginny was admitted to Gryffindor and greeted him kindly, but the twins who also seem to recognize him, pull some pranks on him, which he tries not to be a part of, but ends up in the middle. Harry and Hermione still sit down next to him to eat, but now Ron does too, he also gives him a look that looks like an apology and he shrugs his shoulders. It's not like they need to say anything out loud, what they said, or didn't say, was enough.
Harry seems happy when he starts answering his usual questions, which he didn't answer before.
Hermione seems excited when she arrives at the library and they study together.
Ron massacres him at chess and seems to help his self-esteem.
Ginny, who sometimes seems a little distant, smiles vaguely at him and he feels that something is wrong.
“Your sister acts strangely” he muses in a distracted way one day when Harry is at quidditch practice.
“What are you talking about?” Ron asks selflessly.
He doesn't know how to explain it, the memory of the kind and smiling girl who drags him all over the place, it's hard to connect with the girl who seems far away from every one, with big circles under her eyes and who acts paranoid.
“I'm not sure” he muses more to himself.
He stops when Hermione drags him to study and includes Ron, who complains loudly about it. At one point they both start to fight furiously, which he sighs for, preferring when Harry is around, so he can at least entertain himself with someone else.
                                                        ♦♦♦
“I'm not going to play quidditch, I only know the position of seeker and that one is occupied” he comments one day that he is reading his book, while Harry makes an angry gesture.
Last week they played quidditch in the playground for fun, the children were surprised that he wasn't bad, which he explains, it's a sport he plays as a child. Ron is not good and Hermione, well she is in a category of her own. Harry whines about having a capable partner in the middle of the team who is a friend of his or who is in the same year.
He ignores him and continues to study.
“You're a book eater like Hermione” says Harry, bored.
He throws a pillow at he mercilessly that hits he face.
“You could be good chasers”
 “I'm ashamed of you for being our seeker.”
The twins laugh at his comment, he laughs before dodging Harry's spell without much thought.
                                                          ♦♦♦
The year was not so bad, supposes Draco when he sees that this time he has many more people in his car back at the station. Ignoring that he and Harry ended up fighting a basilisk and that Ginny was possessed by a newspaper, it wasn't so bad. He has friends, he guesses, he never had any friends before and now he has them. Hermione seems delighted with her third year, Ron seems a little uncomfortable with the whole situation with his sister, who seems to be a little withdrawn at his side, he and Harry had rescued her for a very short time, but clearly she would have been traumatised.
When they get off the station, he sees everyone saying goodbye to him nicely.
“I think you'll be all right, if you survived that poem to Potter it can't be that bad” he jokes with Ginny, who for the first time since it happened.
Roll your eyes.
Draco is surprised to see her father at the train station, but this time he is not happy, that man is no longer someone he respects and his presence is intimidating. He swallows his saliva before it grabs him roughly by the hand and drags him out of the place.
This cannot be good.
And it is not.
His father slaps him saying that he is a fool, that he has interfered again with the return of the dark lord, while slapping him non-stop. This time his mother is not present before the next cruciatus he receives, or the three others that follow. Lucius now shouts that he is an idiot and that he is ruining his plans, before ordering Dobby to take him to his room, without remembering that his own stupidity set him free a few weeks ago with Harry.
He remembers it with pleasure.
A new Cruciatus is what he feels before he becomes unconscious.
                                                    *****
The next time he is conscious, he is in St. Mungo's hospital all alone, he sighs before going back to sleep, he raises one hand, the right one, which now has a horrible scar from his wrist to his elbow, his eyes are glazed over, the memory of the cruciatus is strong in his mind. Two days later he leaves the magic hospital, his mother picks him up, but he says nothing on the way home, which makes him feel sick, he won't say anything about the man who tortured him and cursed him until he lost consciousness.
He wants to laugh when they enter the house, which no longer feels like home.
“Andromeda, my sister, she could take care of you” she suddenly muses when they enter the place.
He looks at her with disbelief, before laughing bitterly.
“That man doesn't want me here anymore," he muses underneath, but her mother doesn't deny it.
It was true then.
You mum soon places a key in he hand, which makes him look confused, his eyes seem alarmed and he makes his lips in a thin line. He doesn't want to think about her eyes that look worried, when for two years she has practically left him at the mercy of mistreatment and her father.
“It's in my golden room at Gringotts, you can take anything you want, it's part of my Black heritage" she says quickly and he looks at her angrily.
“You can't do anything either," he muses with sarcasm and a murderous look.
His mother's eyes seem to apologize and he takes the key with hatred.
He hates the key.
But he is not an idiot either.
He runs to his room, taking some things he knows he will need, before going to the Flu net without seeing his mother and shouts the only place he can think of.
                                                       ♦♦♦
Mrs. Weasley seems to be incredulous when shyly asking for accommodation in her home, but it is quickly Arthur who accepts it with a friendly smile. He explains that he will pay for his maintenance, but they practically ignore him before going to Ron to tell him that he will be his new roommate. He doesn't seem happy, but doesn't ask much when he sees his gaunt face or the scar on his hand. "I had to get out of there" is all he says and this one doesn't press him, Ginny is the one who quickly makes him feel at home.
Her eyes, which do not look like those of a child, smile warmly when she sees her scar.
He understands her look.
It is as if she can tell him something.
The twins also soon seem to be playing their tricks on him and Percy seems pleased with his notes. But it's not until one night, when Mrs. Weasley scolds him for not being warm and gives him a gray knit jumper with a "D" on it, that he feels like he's going to cry. The twins joke that she will probably give him another one at Christmas, but he ignores it.
Harry seems surprised when he shows up days later and he shrugs his shoulders.
“We have a disgusting family", says his friend with a laugh and he can't help but laugh with understanding.
They both have that in common.
Actually, they have a lot in common.
They high-five when it's their turn to play quidditch with the twins and still win.
                                                         ♦♦♦
Draco looks on with pity on the first day of school when Harry seems destined to die, it's as if every year he's in the middle of bad and very bad luck. Although in his defence, it was as if all the bad things happened to him. For his part, ignoring the fact that he had practically abandoned his home, everything seemed to get better somehow. Mr. and Mrs. Weasley were not in the habit of sending him things, but at Christmas they had given him a jumper and food. His mother had sent him a letter, which seemed to be hidden from his father, so he ignored it as much as possible.
“But she just appeared out of nowhere” Ron grunted one morning about Hermione that he ignored.
Lately Ron and Hermione had been arguing more.
It was annoying.
“They like each other," whispered Ginny to her funny side, which he agreed with her.
Although the friendship was mainly between Harry, Ron and Hermione, after they adopted him, somehow Ginny started to spend more time with them (a way of compensating for last year), also the twins and that boy called Neville who at first seemed to be afraid of him, but after seeing him and doing nothing to him, he spent time with him.
Not that Gryffindor had changed, of course, they didn't bother him like in his first year (for having friends he supposed) but everything seemed a little better.
Calmer.
He felt at peace.
This was his path, not one he would have chosen willingly, but it was the one he had and he would work at it.
"Like your obsession with Potter" taunts back to Ginny, who mercilessly tries to cast a spell on him and he knows it is better to run away.
When he passes through the corridor, the Slytherins look at him and make fun of him, he ignores them, but sometimes he thinks about what would have happened if he had been in that house.
Would things be different?
He had no idea.
                                                        ♦♦♦
Luna was a strange girl, but she was a friend of Ginny's. Probably, he thought ironically and sarcastically, his father would not approve of the strange girl's friendship, one more reason to let her study with both of them in the middle of the library. He seemed to space himself out a bit and ask her clearly indiscreet questions but tried to ignore him and not be so arrogant. Sometimes his natural side, the arrogance and pride that he had for so many years, would come out unintentionally, Harry would reprimand him, Hermione kindly pointed him out and with Ron they would hit each other sometimes, but it was okay, they taught him.
But now there was Ginny.
And Ginny was scary.
He wouldn't mess with her if he could help it, a wise lesson he and the twins used as their mantra.
“I can sit with you; you seem smart and I need help” spoke a voice beside him.
I turn his face with boredom.
A girl with short dark brown hair and light brown eyes was standing next to him with a somewhat silly smile. He recognized her as a Hufflepuff student who sometimes stood next to the girl Hannah, who sometimes stood by Neville and he unknowingly ignored her.
What was her name?
"I am Camile” she introduced herself when she sat down without waiting for a statement from him.
Just like the destructive Ginny.
Luna's madness.
This girl did not seem normal, too smiling and expert in spells, she seemed to know nothing about Runes and almost begged him to help her. He wants to refuse, but Ginny's gaze makes him sigh and accept her in the impromptu Wednesday study group.
She's about her age, but it seems a miracle that she made it this far.
“I'm good at the duels club” she says this one in a funny way before walking away at the end of the study.
He ignores her, not that he cares.
                                                       ♦♦♦
“How come we always end up on the brink of death," says Draco boringly in the middle of the infirmary.
After Harry's godfather, who turns out not to be bad and who is somehow (very distantly) related to him, ran away with a hippocriph that tried to attack him at the beginning of the year (but which he didn't do by chance). It also turns out that Professor Lupin was a werewolf and that Snape almost died trying to rescue them. Although he had some cuts on his hands, he ignores everything that Harry and Hermione did with the time-turns.
He just wants to sleep.
“In my defence I'm not looking for this” grunted Harry with his arms crossed somewhat annoyingly.
Out of the corner of his eye they both watch Ron and Hermione continue to argue.
They look at each other out of the corner of their eye before sighing.
“I think I'll bet they'll notice until the last year” he mumbles under Harry about the bet between the Weasley family and them both.
He shrugs his shoulders.
“I'm telling you Potter, Ron's going to propose, he's stupid, but it's my money on the line," he says with a slight yawn.
He sees how Hermione seems to be about to kill him, which makes him hesitate a little.
Harry laughs as he bets on Hermione.
He may be on a stretcher, two broken ribs, wounds all over his body, but he can't help but feel happy surrounded by friends.
                                                        ♦♦♦
Draco had a dream, one where he stayed at Slytherin's house, where he had everything he ever wanted in his first year. Also in the middle of the dream, he treated Harry and the rest of his friends badly, humiliated them, tried many bad things against them and at night in his bed, he didn't seem to feel good about it. Then he woke up, seeing all the red around him and realized that everything that happened, had been a silly dream, probably of his childish desires.
He did not like that dream.
Although he had the life he once wanted, he did not feel happy.
“I hate my life” snarled Harry across the dining room the next day.
Sigh.
Although they were all friends, Harry and Ron were the best of friends, but when the former was selected for the Triwizard Tournament which now had four participants, Ron seemed to walk away angry from his friend. He and Hermione were juggling each other to try and bring them together as friends again.
But it was difficult.
“You're unlucky and, I'll say this, it leaves a lot to be desired” he mumbles with amusement reading a book about potions.
Last year it didn't go so well and Snape, who was his godfather, seemed about to send him off for yet another failure.
With that kind of godfather.
“I didn't put my name on it.”
“I believe you.”
“Why doesn't Ron do it?”
Clearly the lack of his best friend affected him, he grimaced at the idea of admitting that Ron was clearly jealous. He was always jealous even of himself, until he explained about his family and they hit it off, Ron saw him as an equal, but with Harry.
They occupied something that would make them friends again.
If only Ron knew what he had and when he and Harry were jealous.
Things would be different.
“Give him time” he mumbles boringly.
Harry keeps ranting for several minutes, exchanging boring looks with Neville who shrugs his shoulders, there's not much to do.
                                                     ♦♦♦
“Hey blonde head” says one afternoon Camile appearing from nowhere.
He sighs bored and a little annoyed.
He is still studying with Ginny and Luna, many times Hermione joins them, but Camile was occasional, sometimes she spent weeks in a row with them and other times she almost didn't show up at all. The laughing girl was part of the dueling club and studied with Professor Mcgonagall because she wanted to be an animagus.
He loved it when she didn't show up.
She was annoying.
“What?” she says with more annoyance than she feels.
But the girl keeps smiling.
“I need help with a class," he says, still smiling and with both hands together as if she were asking for help.
He sees her with annoyance.
This brat.
“Look how low Draco has fallen, he's not only with the dirty blood and the traitor, now he surrounds himself with mestizos “ says Pansy Parkinson passing by with a group of Slytherin.
He looks at her with annoyance, but this disappears when, out of nowhere, Camile passes by and punches Pansy who leaves her on the floor crying. She grimaces at the sight of her bloody, swollen nose, Camile's wand moves faster and the other two girls are turned into little Chihuahuas with alarming ease.
I didn't know she was so good.
He sees her impressed, this one seems bored.
“You know not all Hufflepuffs are so patient” she admits with a shrug.
He goes to say something, but a teacher comes over to scold Camile, which seems not to be the first time he has done something like that.
They end up at the address.
He wasn't to blame, but he's still an eyewitness.
                                                       ♦♦♦
He can't help but be curious, Snape is kind and explains what he knows. Camile Marsell is a half Spanish and half French witch. It seems that her mother was from a fairly powerful lineage in the French country from one of the highest pure-blooded families, but she fell in love with a Muggle. She gave up everything she had to follow a Spanish man (who loved music) and Camile was born out of that relationship. The laughing girl had great potential for magic, but seemed a little confused like Harry at first.
half Blood.
The word collides in her mind.
Something that her father abhorred, over his pure-blooded supremacy.
Wizarding like Harry or Camile were not entirely unpleasant, Hermione was certainly a genius at magic.
There was nothing wrong with them.
Her father was wrong.
“You don't have to defend me," he snarls at Camile when Dumbledore gives him a scolding.
She smiles, ignoring his words.
“Friends help each other," she says, smiling.
He wants to ask her how long they've been friends, but he's tired and prefers to go to bed early.
                                                        ♦♦♦
He applauds Harry when he manages to survive a fight with the dragon, which finally manages to calm the friendship between Harry and Ron, to the relief of him and Hermione. But soon the idea of a ball of the chosen ones, comes to stay in his group of friends and the whole school actually. He is about to say that he does not intend to go, but his friends end up dragging him along before he can refuse. He watches with amusement as Hermione accepts that someone has invited her and Ron seems incredulous as if he is indignant. He doesn't say anything about seeing Victor, a professional player, invite Hermione the other day.
Laughs when Ginny admits defeat in accepting Neville's invitation, almost dying of not being able to help Harry.
Harry who is rejected by Cho.
His friends are involved in many romantic dramas.
“Who will you go with?” asks Ron one day with suspicion in the middle of the great hall.
A memory of the last week comes to his mind, not that he thought about looking for a partner, but since he is going to the ball, he thinks that going alone would be pathetic, for a moment he thinks about inviting Luna, but he regrets it immediately. She may be Ginny's best friend, but she doesn't think she can be with her, without the intervention of the redhead for a long time. Hermione is clearly not available, so he thinks of the only girl besides them with whom he has contact.
One of those afternoons he walks to the library, where he sees Camile concentrating, or rather, not concentrating on the study but on making magical circles in the air.
He wants to run, but reluctantly walks to her.
“Do you want to go to the ball with me?” she asks when he takes a seat next to her.
He does not know if he has read her mind or she is really looking for a pair.
He shrugs her shoulders.
She smiles as always.
He doesn't tell Ron what really happened.
“I'm going with Camile, she's a Hufflepuff we studied with” he admits without telling the truth.
Draco has a pride to bear.
He sees Ron's completely betrayed face; Harry seems to laugh vaguely at the misfortune.
                                                        ♦♦♦
The ball is not as bad as he thinks, Ron and Harry seem completely unhappy at some point, but Hermione really looks like fun, he has run into Ginny who greets him cheerfully several times, giving him funny looks every time Camile forces him to dance. Camile is strange, in a way he doesn't understand, she always seems to smile and has a lot of energy. Her father would be horrified that he considers her a friend and inwardly rejoices and hopes that he will ever find out, only to see her face horrified.
The memories of the cruciatus make him shiver, making Camile curious.
“You look like a boy with secrets” she says amusingly when they finish a dance and have a drink.
He ignores her by shrugging his shoulders.
Out of the corner of her eye, he sees Ron lose his dance partner for giving Hermione a dirty look, Draco feels the family's bet in her pocket.
“I like boys with secrets," adds Camile, making him spit out a little of his drink and look incredulous.
She lets out a loud laugh before forcing him to dance to a song, which he doesn't know like the others, making him look, probably, ridiculous.
But she smiles so big that she forces herself to be there.
When the dance is over, Ginny catches him from behind before whispering to him to accompany Camile to her door. He thinks it's ridiculous, but as long as the girl doesn't see him with big eyes, he accepts. Camile doesn't seem to mind when they walk together in comfortable silence.
She is finally tired of talking, he thinks briefly funny.
Everything in his mind seems to die when a pressure on his lips makes him freeze, it lasts a few seconds, but when he separates, he sees Camile as a fish out of water. He has never kissed a girl, he is ashamed to admit it, especially because in his first kiss, he was not initiated by him. Male pride on the floor. He sees the spark of fun in the girl's eyes.
Who has a beautiful green dress, his long hair in a hairstyle that only a girl could do and light makeup.
She is pretty.
Admits reluctantly, not bad for a first kiss.
He takes her behind the head and now it is him who kisses her, to recover a little of his pride, he would never admit in a million years that it is because he has liked the first one.
They kiss a little more.
When Draco lies down on her bed, a satisfied smile fills her face.
                                                      ♦♦♦
Everything seems to be in chaos when Credic dies, he feels fear and terror for what it means. Even when no one seems to want to believe Harry, he believes him, because his father for years talked about the awakening of the dark lord and now, they are living it. He is afraid, he is horrified and in his fifth year, he understands that nothing good can come of this. The holiday in the burrow seems like a distant dream, which he now wishes to recover. Harry's visions clearly do not help at all and everything seems to be a whirlpool of desolation.
“So much for a quiet year” confesses Ginny one afternoon that they are together in the corridors.
Above all, with Dolores Umbridge hovering around.
Annoying and toad-faced.
Touching his hand briefly with bandages, having supported Harry was not such a good idea when they both shared the punishment, but he was her friend.
“Well at least someone is doing well with the plan to outdo Harry Potter”- he comments amusingly before pushing her playfully.
This one sees him incredulous, before wanting to put a spell on him.
“You haven't told me more about Camile after I saw them kissing” says Ginny in a funny way.
She had caught them that Yule ball, but had the decency not to say it out loud and only to harass him when he was alone.
Kind, he assumed.
Or blackmailing.
“We didn't talk much” he admitted something uncomfortable.
They have greeted each other in the corridors, studied with everyone, but nothing has happened between them. It's as if the ball was just a fleeting dream one night and it bothers him to admit that it irritates him more than he wants to admit.
“Who would say, both suffering from unrequited love.”
“At least I kissed her.”
Ginny's bat mucus appears so quickly and painfully, that he can only shake his hands feeling that he is drowning.
But the satisfaction remains within he of winning a verbal fight.
                                                      ♦♦♦
Draco looks uncomfortably, as clearly the students of the house Slytherin have a clear preferential treatment for the toad face. He sees them as annoying when they keep making fun of him, but more than annoying, inside he feels uncomfortable. He has dreams where he sees himself in the house of the snakes and that makes him sleep uneasy, he does not like what he sees, that Draco that bothers others (as they do with his person) and that intimidates his current friends. He is afraid to say that to them, since he is a person that he does not like.
It is like hating a part of himself.
Because he knows, if he had stayed at Slytherin's house, he would have done it.
He was so fooled by the man who is his father, so full of resentment towards those who are not pure blood.
Most of the wizarding society is not pure blood.
Idiot.
“Draco?” calls Harry when they go to their private of forbidden classes on defence against the dark arts.
All because of his current teacher.
He sucked.
“I was thinking” he muses quietly, making Harry raise an eyebrow to see him confused, but he doesn't dare say his thoughts, maybe he shouldn't have been a Gryffindor as he was a coward “don't look at me like that, at least my date didn't cry all afternoon” he adds in a mocking tone.
Harry groans clearly ashamed and feels a little satisfaction at seeing him suffer for normal things.
Draco stops uncomfortably when in the middle of the room when he sees how Camile seems to have convinced Hannah to join "Dumbledore's army", all thanks to Ginny, he doesn't know whether to kill his pseudo little sister or thank her.
Harry sees him confused, Draco is grateful that he is an idiot in those matters, he had enough tragedy with Hermione and Ginny, besides Neville.
“Potter” starts Camile by his side humming funny and giving him a curious look, which he ignores as best he can.
“Camile, I'm glad you and Hannah could come, the more people the better” Harry spoke shyly, but glad to see her.
He whimpered when he admitted that, although they were not friends, Camile used to have casual conversations with the boy, especially about Quidditch.
The girl smiled too much, for his taste.
“There are cute boys to see around here, of course I'd come," she says honestly and without any apparent shame.
Harry is shocked, she turns to him and gives him a flirty wink before leaving. It's thanks to that that Harry turns to see he with an incredulous mouth, he prefers to leave quickly next to someone else, trying not to let the red of his cheeks be so noticeable.
                                                       ♦♦♦
He looks incredulously at Hermione and Ginny sitting in front of him, both ranting about men, almost ignoring him at the time. He sighs thinking about how he agreed to study with them, turns his face to the window, almost wishing he could be out with Harry and Ron, but he had made a decision, he regretted it, clearly, but he is not one to go back on his word. In his suitcase in his room, a letter from his mother asking him to stay away from any trouble indicated that, soon, there would be trouble.
Not just the attempt on Arthur's life.
He felt uncomfortable, like a bad feeling.
A blow to the forehead made him his before he saw Ginny badly who let out a funny laugh.
“In the Malfoy clouds?” her asked amusingly, moving his eyebrows amusingly.
“Mind your own business Weasley," he grunts back equally amused.
Hermione rolls her eyes, exchanges a funny look with Ginny, both knowing the girl's problem with Ron.
He admits, only to himself and probably to Ginny (who in some way he doesn't understand is his best friend) that he might, in some younger way, have had feelings for Hermione. Not only were they competing all the time, the girl was growing up and she was cute, of course adding that would have bothered his father, made everything very attractive. But when he became friends with them, it only took a second to see the interaction between Ron and Hermione to know that he didn't want to get into anything romantic between them.
The image of a long-haired, funny-smiling Hufflepuff girl momentarily surrounded his head.
“Hermione what you occupy is giving my brother a kiss (which is disgusting) and touching his buttock to make you happy” says Ginny shamelessly.
It takes no more than that comment for Draco to grab her by the neck and start running around the common room, with a red Hermione of shame as well as anger.
They end up on the floor laughing and their task forgotten.
Amidst the laughter, Draco cannot help but think that both of them and the rest of his friends they were a family that occupied.
                                                      ♦♦♦
Draco loves his friends, although he must admit that being friends with Harry Potter has put him on the brink of death, many more times than he likes to admit. The idea of going to the magic ministry is stupid, he tries to convince him before doing such a stupid thing, but, although he doesn't succeed, he ends up accompanying them. It is when everything seems to be in chaos, when they find out that Sirus is alive, that the order is safe (secret that they trust him for being a kind of honorary Weasley) and the crazy Bellatrix who is somehow distant relative, pursues them both to Sirus and to him to kill them.
All the people with whom he shares blood are crazy, they decide in the end.
Sirus at first had this uncertainty about himself too, until he told he that he was in Gryffindor and seemed happy that he was not the only black sheep in the Black family.
He was not a Black.
Although his mother was.
Everything was confusing.
Although he admitted to being a fairly competent duelist, Bellatrix was crazy (there was nothing positive to say in that situation) and as little as he avoided that dark spell. Whimpered when her hand began to bleed, proving that it was not by chance.
“Lucius no doubt raised a useless” he snarled that woman with a dismissive tone.
He saw her rolling her eyes.
Unbelieving buffoon.
“You're crazy, demented and no doubt I'd rather spend my life with blood traitors than a lady who's a whore behind Voldemort” he shouted the first offensive words he came up with.
The Cruciatus was not long in coming.
How many times can a person endure so much pain?
From his blood family, for worse.
Whimpering when he fell backwards, before Sirus started a battle against her, but they were walking too close to the veil. Sirus, like Harry, had a strange suicidal tendency, he decided when even trembling, he should throw himself with Sirus to avoid a curse from Bellatrix so that he wouldn't fall in the middle of the veil.
He feels every bone in his body ache.
But he's alive, she surmises with irony.
“That bitch is crazy” murmurs before Sirus brings him by the neck so that both of them manage to dodge another attack.
“Boy!” calls Sirus over him, but his vision begins to blur, before he bites his lips and stands up shaking.
They must fight.
Stupid Potter thinks with irony, before following Sirus and Bellatrix's duel with barely open eyes, with a nimble spell he makes Bellatrix fall backwards, before feeling an attack from his back. Bites her teeth as she feels pain all over her body again.
This time he is knocked unconscious.
                                                      ♦♦♦
When he opens his eyes again, a room he detects from St. Mungo’s receives him, and he is measured to get into his bed, feeling pain all over his body. He looks at his bandaged hands and feels pain in his back, but he is alive. Memories of the battle in the ministry haunt his mind and he cannot help but feel terrified. A war, they had not been many and he hardly thinks if they survive, but that only seemed a prelude, a prelude to imminent war. A sound distracts him and he is paralyzed when the curtain that separates his bed is opened and Molly Weasley appears on the other side, this incredulous whimpering wakes him up and wraps him in a hug.
He can't help but wonder when his real mother hugged him for the last time.
He also can't believe how stupid Ron is, to be jealous of Harry or him, when he has a family like this one.
“I'm glad you're awake, honey," she says with sincerity and tears in her eyes.
He doesn't move, not believing that anyone else is crying for him.
He smiles slightly, before everything turns to chaos in his room.
Ignoring the visit of all the Weasleys, including Sirus (he doesn't quite understand what has happened to set him free), Harry and Hermione, Ginny is the one who tells him the story. He had received several unforgivable curses, a cruciatus and another that has left a scar on her back, which like her hand, cannot be healed. He was unconscious for two weeks.
Ginny seems worried about himself, just as her mother cries when she sees him, Hermione hugs him in a protective way and cannot help feeling at home.
“YOU ARE ALIVE!” both twins shout with emotion, before shaking their hair.
He feels pain all over his body.
His head does not stop hammering.
He wants to sleep.
But he wouldn't change for anyone in the world.
                                                            ♦♦♦
Snape never treats him badly, even though since he left his father they have hardly had any cordial contact, but that does not mean that he is any less concerned when he obtains the role of professor of defence against the dark arts in his sixth year. Harry, who has always hated his godfather, doesn't seem too thrilled about the affair either, because although Sirus is declared innocent, he doesn't have the power to uphold it or something stupid said Dumbledore. He tries to remind him that he will soon come of age, but Harry can be stubborn and prefers to ignore him.
The fact that Ginny spends all her time with her boyfriend also seems to put him in a bad mood.
Her four best friends are in love, but not together.
Bad luck.
He and Neville seem to jump between the two of them, trying to keep the issues from getting too sensitive.
“Dean is a pain in the ass, he's cute, but I can do things on my own” complains Ginny in the common room with an annoyed grimace.
He ignores her for reading his book.
Dean's subject is a sensitive one for both of them, not only does the boy seem to hate him since his first year, they also share the same room and he seems to hate him because Ginny declared that he is her best friend. Although he repeats a thousand times that he has no romantic feelings for the girl, her boyfriend always seems to see him out of the corner of his eye as a potential enemy.
Pathetic.
“You're only with him because you're with someone," he says before turning the page in the book on oclumacy.
Even though Snape doesn't treat him like he used to, he has given him that book in his fourth year, so he tries to study it. Sometimes after school in his fifth year, he would instruct him, he almost had the trick of doing it without difficulty.
He worried about why her godfather gave her that.
“Dean is cute and kisses well, but I like my space, yesterday I reproach myself because I spend a lot of time with you” she grumpy is carelessly settling in his lap.
He rolled his eyes.
“Because of things like this he is upset," he says without taking his eyes off the book or making her feel uncomfortable.
He's used to it, as a child Ginny was very loving and he was clearly a carrion for his family. Like a sister she never had, Ginny began to follow him when her brothers ignored her, laughing and telling her things, which he did not ignore for a fact.
She was the first one to speak to him.
The one who took him to the Weasley house.
She was family.
He owed her a lot.
Besides, her lively and cheerful personality, helped him when he was not feeling well. Because he had the fake family of now, sometimes he remembered that his parents had given up on him, that they were on the side of the dark lord and the scars on his body were witness to the fact that both had taken different paths.
“It's stupid, Harry and Ron found me last night making out with Dean and took on the role of big brother, they should be like you.”
“You know I'd protect your dignity too, but you'd throw a bat booger at me and not take my help.”
“Exactly, thank you for noticing.”
He sees her thinking it was no joke and she with her head in her lap puts on an innocent smile, making both of them laugh slightly. Distracted he puts a hand on Ginny's head and starts to massage her hair, she makes a sound that reminds him of a cat and thinks she is a brat.
“I feel offended that that book is more important than your best friend.”
“This book would beat you at anything.”
A whimper comes out of his mouth when it punches him in the face, with force the lance of his lap and this wheel on the ground. Both of them burst out laughing when she throws herself at him, in his lap, and seems to want to hang him, but he hardly resists.
A sound of annoyance distracts them, causing them to turn to their right where Ron and Harry are standing.
Draco reacts a second later, with Ginny on his legs too close to his body and face.
His forehead is shaded in blue.
“Now you're going out with Draco too," says Ron in an accusatory tone.
Bad idea.
Faster than a flash, Ginny casts a spell on him that throws him on his back. She seems to want to go and kill him, but not in play as with him, so he holds her by the waist preventing her from committing a murder.
“Draco is my best friend asshole, now I'll kill you” she says this in a sadistic tone.
He decides he prefers to be on the girl's good side, so he lets her go and it's Hermione who finally manages to stop her from committing murder. The worst thing decides Draco, is the look of complete hatred of Harry, who does not know when or how, it seems that finally he has feelings for Ginny.
He snorts underneath when Hermione yells at Ron that he is a fool and drags him into the library.
Now Ron sees him angry too.
He whines.
He doesn't do anything.
                                                         ♦♦♦
He decides for his own mental (and physical) sake to stay away from his friends, until they solve their love problems with each other, he doesn't want to get caught in the crossfire. Therefore, in his free time, he prefers to be out reading some book, sometimes thinking that he could have stayed in Ravenclaw, although he still doesn't manage to beat Hermione in notes. New Year's resolution decides. It is an afternoon in the middle of a bench, when a shadow appears in front of him. He tries not to look surprised when he sees Camile in front of him with her usual friendly smile.
He's ignoring him as usual; she takes a seat next to him and starts to move his feet.
He gets tense.
He forgets that not only his friends have these romantic problems. The girl next to him kisses him in his fourth year at the yule ball, but after that she ignores him, sometimes she talks to him as if nothing happened and he is clearly confused.
Not only are Harry and Ron bad with girls.
He is too.
Shit.
He would never admit it out loud.
“You look at me with bulging eyes, it's funny” she says she's pointing at him shamelessly; she blushes and this one laughs “I'm not going to do anything to you that you don't want to” she adds with a flirty wink.
That bothers him too, those shameless flirtations, make him feel uncomfortable.
He looks at her out of the corner of his eye, noticing that her long hair is now a little more controlled and longer than before, that her face is starting to stop looking like a girl's and her body is becoming very beautiful. He hates the hormones inside him and that this girl is by his side.
Just like Ginny and Hermione this one seems to be at ease next to her.
But it is not the same.
Is different and he doesn't understand how.
“Of course,” he says in a boring way trying to control himself, this one sees him as a bit annoying.
“You know for a guy, you're not very good with girls," she says, as if reading her thoughts.
Draco blushes before seeing her with disbelief, curiously this seems to be serious as she almost never shows it because she is smiling.
“That's rude” grunts before returning to her book.
This snort.
“Rude is kissing a girl and never bringing it up” she points out with clear annoyance.
His blushing increases and he sees her angry, as she seems to take it easy and he is a sea of nerves at this moment.
“You kissed me first.”
“And then you.”
“You acted as if nothing had happened.”
“I'm a Draco girl, we like to see an interest in a boy and not do all the work.”
Both are upset and look angry, he does not understand what she wants and she seems to want to claim something from him. The girls are annoying, he decides in the middle of something that he does not understand, only it seems that she expected him to look for it and it is ridiculous because he.
Because he...
He looks away, ready to get up.
“You are a nuisance” mumble without knowing what else to say.
He had enough family problems to add this girl to his life, his friends are now in danger and he doesn't know how long before everything goes to shit. It takes studying, it takes being a better wizard to help them when the time comes.
He should go.
But when he sees the girl sideways, still sitting, almost looking downcast and with sore eyes, he curses himself internally.
Only once.
He says to himself when he sits down again. Camile opens her eyes in disbelief when now it's him who initiates the kiss, because just like Ginny's eyes, but in another way, he doesn't understand, and doesn't care, he can't see his sad eyes.
He is not a scum.
He is not her father.
They separate and he is embarrassed but internally happy to feel his pride back for initiating the kiss. She smiles in a way he has never seen before, softer and more sincere, which also reaches his brown eyes, which he now notices have flashes of other colours.
It is beautiful.
“You're annoying too," says this one with a slightly broken but funny voice.
Then, ignoring his previous thought, he kisses her again.
Shit.
                                                          ♦♦♦
“Draco has a girlfriend and won't die a virgin” celebrates Ginny in the common room, making him snarl in annoyance and Hermione laughing by his side.
Neville has a funny smile at his side, which he wants to smash with one punch.
He was still a virgin.
But he wasn't going to make that clear out loud.
Ginny continues to hug him excited, saying that Camile was a sun for putting up with him, that he should not ruin him. Hermione commented on everything he had to do to be a good boyfriend, Neville seemed just as tortured as he was.
“At least now Harry and Ron will no longer see me as competition” he muses, making Neville nod in agreement.
Hermione and Ginny look confused.
He snorts.
Who's the blind man now?
Who would have thought that, of the group of friends, he is the first to get a steady girlfriend.
                                                        ♦♦♦
Many things are happening before his eyes, war seems closer and closer and Dumbledore's death is the trigger. When the great wizard dies, he feels that, within him, the world is lost, when a powerful wizard could not help it, they definitely could not do anything. At the funeral he is sitting there with a lost look in his eyes, he wants to think that he has nothing to do with this place, but he knows what happens to his father and mother, the bad guys of history and how this war was getting closer and closer to breaking out.
He sees the sky in confusion.
Was this his destiny?
When the hat chose him at Gryffindor.
What was he thinking?
“Everything will change," muses Neville sitting next to him and he nods his head.
He sees his hand for a few seconds, feeling a little pain in the scar on it as in his back. He grinds his teeth knowing that somehow that hat decided his fate.
'A butterfly effects.'
Arthur called once.
On the way to where Harry was with Ron and Hermione, the three of them had made a choice and given him the opportunity to choose. When he arrived at them, his three friends saw him with big eyes with questions, they had given him a choice because they knew the situation of his biological family,
“I'm in” admits in a serious voice.
Hermione nods.
Ron sighs.
Harry looks at him with gratitude.
They are friends.
While they go off, the rest go to look after Hogwarts. He looks sideways at where Ginny is next to Neville, Luna, Hannah and Camile. Her best friend smiled slightly, knowing that this would also be a battleground next year.
Camile gives him a slight smile.
A part of him, decided, was an idiot for not talking to her before and taking advantage of the time a little more. By her side, he had been very warm and different, a different good in his life that he thought he wouldn't have. But now is not the time to back out.
                                                         ♦♦♦
The search took a long time, both good and bad experiences passed. Since Ron left them, he felt lost at the thought of his parents behind all this, struggles and losses. When they arrive at the castle after a whole year away in the middle of death (which he jokes about all the time with Harry telling him that he is unlucky) and ready to start a war, he feels confused. In the middle of the fight where he attacks and protects, he wonders what would have happened if his life had been different, as in his dreams.
Maybe he would be on the other side of the battle and that destroys him.
Why the other side is wrong.
Voldemort is wrong.
That is why when the Selector Hat appears, almost at the same time as Voldemort's snake, when Harry's body appears. For the first time he understands why he is in Gryffindor, when the sword of his creator is held in his hand to kill the snake.
Ignoring his number of wounds.
Ignoring that his parents behind Voldemort see him in disbelief.
He makes his choice at that moment, it is not like before that he only accepts the fate that others chose for him, no, he decides his path and the sword shines in his hands. Voldemort seems angry with himself, but he couldn't care less.
He is not afraid of him.
Not after all he's been through.
And then Harry seems to come back from the dead.
Before he knows it the battle is over, but he doesn't feel well, he is tired, a heart-rending cry from someone, is also the sign of a series of dead to be picked up.
                                                       ♦♦♦
That night he walks to his old bedroom, which is somewhat destroyed but stable. He throws himself on his bed, followed by Ron and Harry on theirs. Hermione ignores that it's not the girls' bed and remembers one that must have been Neville's, the four of them are exhausted, the battle has been over for a few hours, but there are many dead, much pain and much blood. He feels too tired to talk or say anything, he just wants to sleep all night, but he feels that he will have nightmares.
“I'm exhausted” says Hermione with her arms stretched out.
The thought of her bewitching her parents and sending them to Australia runs through her mind, they will have to go and get them soon, they had decided in the middle of their journey in moments of stress.
Where they were thinking about the end of the war.
Where they were optimistic.
“I'm hungry” mumbles Ron against the pillow.
Everyone laughs slightly.
“By the way, Potter, technically Ron made Hermione kiss him, so you owe me money," he says, sitting on his bed.
Harry laughs when Ron and Hermione turn red.
"Hermione kissed him so you owe me money” counter this scathing, but funny-looking one.
Maybe.
It has a point.
“You made me lose money Weasley, you owe me” he grunts at he with feigned annoyance and this one throws a pillow at he face.
The four of them laugh like kids and he throws himself back on the bed with a peaceful smile. But his smile fades slightly as he remembers the number of dead, especially that of one of the twins who hurts him to the core. A selfish part of her inner self has been happy to see Camile among the survivors, she herself had a terrible wound on her leg from a werewolf, but she only laughed saying that it was not that serious.
They would have to wait until the next new moon.
But she was alive.
That comforts him.
“Hey Draco", says Harry out of the blue, turns to see him confused and he smiles at him “I'm glad you're my friend” he talks a bit corny, but he understands.
Friendship is important.
It reminds him of how Sirus talks about his friendship with Harry's father and with Lupin.
“Don't get cheesy Potter, I have a girlfriend unlike a guy who got brave and left her” he comments funny and this one whines indignantly.
A move at his side, makes him see Hermione sitting next to him.
“I'm also glad you're my friend Draco, if I had a brother I'd be like you and Harry.”
“Yes, because if I were Ron I'd be incest.”
A pillow from Ron makes him laugh when he just pats his head, but he high-fives himself.
The four of them laugh, before the four of them end up in their bed, in a knot of hands and legs, sleeping together. Draco at that moment thinks about what his life could have been different, if he had been selected in another house, but when he feels Harry's elbow, when Ron snores or when Hermione babbles by his side.
He knows.
He wouldn't trade it for anything, this feeling of being filled.
And he hoped that, in a few years, everything would be just like this moment, the four friends.
The house of Gryffindor.
His house.
53 notes · View notes
halothenthehorns · 3 years
Text
TLTNL- PRIORI INCANTATEM
Harry recognized that he was supposed to read next, and he was actually as surprised with himself as everyone else as he indicated he wanted his turn. There was something about what was fixing to come, some part of this nightmare night in the graveyard that, though the worst night of his adolescent life, held a meaning to him. It involved his parents, of that he'd known from the moment he arrived, and Harry wanted to be the one to regain the moment with his own words. So despite the fact that he had to let go of his hold on his mother and father, Harry took the book, straightened his back, and let the memories of that night come in without a fight.
Harry scrambled to find his feet to support his weight before the ropes were untied.
Lily groaned as she remembered Harry was injured on top of everything, that spider bite and his sprained ankle all on the same leg, there was hardly a chance of him properly dueling, let alone making a run for it.
Wormtail used his new hand to easily tear away Harry's restraints, and just as roughly pulled the material out of his mouth.
"Why do you call him that?" James demanded of Harry in a tone he'd never heard before.
Harry flinched at the near demonic look in his dad's eye, but explained himself calmly enough. "Because that rat deserves that nickname, it's the only way I've ever known him as that traitorous word."
The Marauders disagreed, thinking that backstabber didn't deserve a single thing they'd ever given him, and that name was one of the most important ones to them. However, they could see Harry's side, he'd never known Peter the person, but the man who'd gotten his parents killed while using that name.
Lily still wondered why Voldemort did, but she thought Harry had said it unintentionally. Voldemort had made it clear that while he rewarded Pettigrew for the help he'd given, Voldemort wanted to constantly remind him of what he'd lost. Using that nickname every time was rubbing salt in the wound, a slap in the face every day to remind him of what he'd once done.
Harry knew how much this hurt them every single second to be reminded of who they were hearing do this to him, but he couldn't see how using a different name would actually make it better as he forced himself on.
  The moment he landed, his first thought was to try and run, but that was made impossible as his damaged leg shook beneath him, and the Death Eaters closed ranks. Just beyond them, Wormtail was returning with Harry's wand, which he roughly gave back without looking at him.
Lily noticed for the first time that this seemed to be a common thing, the rat hadn't been looking at Harry all night it seemed. She hoped it was because he couldn't stand to see what he was doing to Harry, and to James through it, but most likely it was his own shame for his cause in this, always his own feelings first before he'd let himself think of others.
Harry had no choice but to turn back and face Voldemort as he asked if Harry had ever been taught to duel.
"I don't think watching Snape blast Lockhart across a room should count," Remus muttered. He'd been trying to come up with an escape plan for Harry since he'd arrived, and dueling his way out was very bottom of the list for the poor kid.
Harry distantly remembered once attending a dueling club, where the only spell he'd learned was Expelliarmus.
Harry felt an odd swooping feeling flow through his chest. He'd felt something for that spell the moment he'd first seen it used, and now even his own thoughts trying to mock him for how useless it was didn't quite cover the hope that was trying to bubble in him now, he was certain he'd found his solution.
What good would that do him, even if he did manage to disarm Voldemort he was outnumbered thirty to one.
"Thirty?" Sirius yelped in concern. "I'd only counted seven besides Voldemort."
Harry gave him a look of exasperation, the point still stood of how outnumbered he really was. It was that expression he was giving his godfather, 'really, you're pointing that out now?', that somehow managed to convince Sirius to smile back. He could see that Harry was still only just below panicking levels of the situation he remembered being in, but for just a moment he'd turned and talked to him like this was all normal, something they all needed.
He had never learned anything that could possibly fit him for this.
"I don't think anybody's actually trained for that situation," Remus agreed, "Dumbledore himself would feel a little trapped."
"You really are something not to just be on the ground begging for your life," James agreed without a hint of mocking.
He knew he was facing the thing against which Moody had always warned,
Harry said Moody's name a bit odd, certainly not in the normal way he had before this, but even he didn't seem to notice he'd done it, and it was such a small thing nobody paid much mind.
Avada Kedavra, and more unprotected than the first time where his mother had died to protect him from it.
Lily honestly wished that would quit being mentioned so much, for no matter how true it was she'd do the same every time, it hurt all the more she never could again.
Voldemort took it upon himself to tell Harry what to do, saying first they were to bow to each other.
"I hate formalities," Sirius sneered, "no one ever actually bothers with that kind of mess when your life's on the line."
Dumbledore would want him to show his manners.
"I don't give a damn what Dumbledore would want," James seethed, "he needs to stop talking to you like this."
Since Harry wished Voldemort would stop talking to him period, he agreed.
Harry was told to bow to his death.
Despite the monster trying to claw its way out of Harry's chest, screaming for him to run away from this, there was also a surreal moment tucked in there where Harry realized he wasn't dead, hadn't died this night. Instead he got something infinitely better for his night of misery.
Voldemort smiled at him then, like a cat playing with its dinner, but Harry refused to move. He was not going to let Voldemort taunt him into this before he died.
James didn't care if it went without saying, he never grew tired of telling his son he was proud of the way he was taking this, and the small smile he received in that moment never dimmed no matter how many times he saw it.
Voldemort wasn't having that, his wand appearing and an invisible force bending Harry's spine into the mockery of submission, while the Death Eaters around him laughed all the harder.
Remus was remise that he had no clue what spell that was, as he'd have loved to do the same thing to Voldemort as just the start of the retribution he'd get for doing this to Harry.
Sirius was just pleased Harry had stopped taking note of every little thing that rat had been doing. He wasn't sure what would have hurt more, to know he was laughing along, or to see him simply standing there, watching and doing nothing.
Voldemort released him and Harry immediately straightened back upright, and Voldemort gave a cruel grin again as he praised this, saying how Harry was going to die proud, straight-backed like his father.
James watched his two friends shake automatically as that was mentioned again, and he couldn't blame them, he knew he'd have felt the same way if that was constantly brought up about one of them. He wanted to say something, offer up some word as a promise to his brothers, but the words failed him as he replayed that last moment again in his head, what he'd died trying to protect. Somehow, he still couldn't hate the way his life ended, even if it was leaving those behind.
Done with his fun, Voldemort raised his wand and began the duel, by again hitting Harry with Curcio.
Harry's voice wasn't coming out in any way normal as flashes of remembered pain from that curse came pouring back over him, but he forced himself to press through that, because there was something more precious to him that happened this night, and it was another kind of pain, but almost a good kind.
Harry's scream of misery couldn't define the pain his body was in, falling to the floor again and writhing in place, when it stopped as suddenly as it had started.
James was now convinced his life was going to end any moment now the longer he had to listen to that curse being placed on his son, the thought of what had happened to Frank and Alice now weighing on him worse than ever. He could not just sit here and picture this being done without doing something!
Harry rolled back to his feet at once, but it was in no way intimidating, as he stood trembling as much as Wormtail had before his hand had been replaced.
James hadn't meant for that something to snap at Harry, "Don't you ever compare yourself to that thing!"
"What can I say, the memory sort of stuck with me," Harry muttered back without looking up.
Voldemort crooned to him if he wanted a break, asking if Harry wanted some breathing room before that was done to him again. Those pitiless red eyes watched his progress, death promising in the slits.
Harry was now more glad than ever he was the one getting this out, distorted words they were in his own voice from remembered pain, as a solemn reminder to those around him that at least that one thing hadn't been true that night.
Harry knew what he really wanted, to see him beg, which was not going to happen.
Considering Lily had mostly been in a state of the worst anger of her life with the situation Harry was in, she didn't think she'd told him enough how proud she was of her young man, and the answering gleam she saw in her own eyes imaged into his face was the best feeling in the world.
Voldemort grew impatient when he didn't get his wish, demanding Harry answer him, and using the Imperius Curse.
Remus wasn't sure if that was full blown hysteria trying to crack through as he felt his lips twist in a smile, for the irony of their griping about Moody putting this curse on Harry for the good it could do, and look how right that mad old Auror was.
Harry felt, for the third time in his life,
"Only the third time?" Sirius was sure that was his ears cracking, not his voice as he forced out anything like a mocking tone for this. "Moody placed that on you a ton more times to make sure you threw it off completely. You never even gave us that number."
Harry gave an unhelpful answer of muttering about how his mind hadn't exactly been going for specifics at a time like this, not wanting to put Sirius down when he'd been trying to help. It wasn't assisting his own mind that recently every time Moody's name had been mentioned he felt an even sharper poke to his conscious, which had been paining him more and more since he'd arrived here.
as everything melted away, leaving him the happiest he'd been in his life as all the worry and pain evaporated, all he had to do was answer no.
A firm voice snapped right back, that still wasn't happening. He wouldn't answer!
Even though James had already watched Harry pull this off once, this ranked right up there with his Seeker skills of impressive abilities. Moody in a classroom was one thing, not that he'd expect the man to go easy but still. This was Voldemort behind that curse, and Harry was still fighting back!
The battle didn't last long, before Harry threw the curse off altogether.
Silence rung in the graveyard, no one was laughing now.
"You show those pushovers what it's really like to stand up to that pompous idiot," Sirius nodded sharply.
Voldemort stood there for a long beat in surprise, his Death Eater's as frozen in shock.
"I'm sure they're all wondering why they never bothered to grow a spine and do that," Remus muttered.
Voldemort whispered to Harry that in not answering, he was disobeying. Obedience was a virtue that every man should learn before death, and Voldemort offered more pain should teach that lesson.
"Well now he's just being a hypocrite," James forced an eye roll, forced just one small second of a joke. "I'm sure Dumbledore's told him to stand down and he's never done it."
"Right, don't do what Voldemort does, I'll keep that in mind," Harry genuinely grinned at him.
Voldemort raised his wand again, but this time Harry was ready as his honed Quidditch skills flung him aside behind a gravestone, the crack of the spell missing sending shards everywhere.
"There's my boy," James whispered to himself, the image of Harry flying proud in the sky was one he'd envisioned since he'd first held his son, now instead of a broomstick those reflexes were being used to save his life.
Voldemort mockingly called to him this was not hide-and-seek as he continued approaching,
Harry felt himself flushing as he got that out, and it wasn't hard to realize that Harry felt ashamed of what he was now telling them he'd done. James wasn't going to stand for that, giving Harry a friendly nudge as he promised, "no one on earth could fault you for trying to catch your breath Fleetfoot."
Harry did look around at him in surprise for that, and James shrugged without remorse. "I found I'm partial to that for your Marauder nickname, covers all the bases really."
Harry's face stayed red, but for a completely different reason as he turned back to the book, more pleased than he'd ever been in his life for his dad actually insisting upon this as more than a joke, especially after another nickname he'd once endowed kept stabbing him in every way possible.
his soft voice calling for Harry to come back out, he'd end this game now. Voldemort could not promise it wouldn't hurt, he had never died.
"I'm pretty sure during the time where you didn't have a body, you were some classification of dead," Remus grumbled.
"Wish he'd stayed that way," Sirius quietly agreed.
Harry only remained crouched where he was for a few beats more as reason came back to him. He was no more going to sit here cowering than beg for his life. His muscles were already springing to his command, prepared to die upright like his father.
"I'd rather you not die at all," Lily murmured to herself, but aloud for her son's ears, "least you really did get the best parts of your father."
"There aren't any bad parts of me for him to get," James forced out just to simply pitch his voice into the conversation, he couldn't stand watching Sirius and Remus' face when they heard that any more than it felt right for his own ears to process.
Harry was back around before the next taunt could be given, shooting the spell for his foe, Expelliarmus,
"That's really the spell you went with?" Sirius shook his head affectionately, his long hair falling into his face to avoid his too wet eyes.
"Can't even fault him for it," Remus sighed, his voice coming out a bit too thick which no one blatantly noticed. "What better way to get out of this than to disarm the lot of them."
at the same time Voldemort cried Avada Kedavra.
"Not my son you bastard!" Lily howled in outrage, her wand the only thing steady in her as every part of her was telling her to block that curse from being near her baby.
Green met red in midair, but then the two colors merged into one, and Harry's wand began vibrating in his hand that he could not unclench.
"Err, that's not supposed to happen," Remus muttered uselessly. When two spells met in midair, they ricochet off each other, so one should have hopefully killed a Death Eater, preferably a pathetic rat among them, and the other should have disarmed one while Harry tried to break out of the ranks.
The color was now one thin narrow beam keeping the two wands connected, a deep gold.
One glance up showed Harry that no one around him had any more clear idea of what was going on than he had at the time, but whatever it was, this was the moment he'd been waiting for. Once Cedric had died, he'd shut down and hadn't been able to think of anything else until Voldemort had cut him free, where the very feeling he'd felt had now been trying to rise to the surface. Harry leaned just that little bit more into his parents, for some unearthly reason, almost excited to continue.
Voldemort's unpigmented face showed just as much shock, his own hand clearly trying to break this connection but having no more success, and then it got stranger.
The two were lifted off their feet by seemingly nothing, and carried away from the graves into a clear area before gently being set back down.
Sirius was mouthing wordlessly as he tried to wrap his head around this, tried to even vaguely pull a piece of information from his deflating brain on what could be happening, but there wasn't a speck.
The Death Eaters ran after them, shouting for instructions on what to do, most drawing wands.
Lily may not know what was happening, but she suddenly wasn't as sure she liked it. At first it had seemed some cosmic force was actively trying to save her son, taking him away from that unholy place, but now locked like he was, he had no way to defend himself from the other wands that could just as easily kill.
The deep ichor color keeping them connected was continuing to act all on its own, thin cords shooting from it and soon encasing them in a dome that the Death Eaters cries could not come through.
James wished he had a clue what was being done to his son, but so long as it actually seemed to be helping him he couldn't find the urge to complain about it. Was this odd, never before heard of magic the way his son survived this night? If so, he'd go out and learn it right now.
Instead all Harry could now hear was a noise he'd only heard once before, but something precious to him that filled him with warmth, phoenix song.
"Is, Fawkes going to show back up, or-" Remus struggled to get out a coherent thought, but that didn't make sense. Harry hadn't done anything grand like he had before to summon Fawkes to him, though now he thought about it that would have been a good idea to get the bird to try and summon him away. Not the point, and no one had an answer for him, Harry had only paused in shock before gathering himself back enough to keep going.
It was the sound of hope, and it gave Harry new resolve to do everything in him not to break this connection.
Lily was running her hand through his hair for as much comforting him through what he was reading as a warming to herself to remind her where her baby was. This still wasn't a particularly good thing happening, but finally it was a new moment, something shining down promising hope was coming.
The moment he promised the music he'd do no such thing, the harder it became to do.
Sirius longed for a time where he could have been hearing about this and laughing, Harry talking to music, and then of course what he'd just described felt like it described life. All he was really thinking on though was how much he desperately wished he was there with his pup, when he needed someone now more than ever.
His strip of wood was now vibrating so hard in his hand it was a wonder it hadn't disintegrated yet, and still something new was happening. Beads of light were appearing in the center of their merged stream, and they were slowly heading towards Harry's wand. The closer they got, the harder his whole arm shook.
Because this wasn't confusing and weird enough before. They'd all worn out of shock by now, so instead they were trying to comprehend what purpose this could hold, how and why this was happening to their Harry.
Some instinct, whether the song or some innate feeling, told Harry that what he needed was for the opposite, so concentrating harder than he ever had on anything in his life, his mind focused on those little beads, and slowly but surely, they began reversing course, and were now going for Voldemort's wand.
Now Harry could feel his own voice rising with strength, some powerful moment about to return to him, almost a peace settling over him as something of the warmth he was surrounded in now was leaping eagerly to return to his mind.
Voldemort looked almost as astonished as he did fearful.
"Congratulations Harry, not many people can say they made Voldemort piss himself moments after his rebirth," Sirius murmured.
It happened after such a tiring mental struggle Harry nearly sunk to the ground again in a new kind of pain, but finally the beads connected with that strip of wood, and Voldemort's wand began trembling harder than ever as screams of pain echoed from its contents, and a smoky fist arose from within, the ghostly image of the hand he'd created for Wormtail.
Remus choked as he realized what was being described, yet Prior Incantato certainly didn't have this magical property normally, so even just guessing that this could be a form of what was happening didn't help him at all.
The wand wasn't done yet, as the next thing to arise was even bigger, more solid and dense as first a gray, misty head, then a torso emerged, before finally Cedric Diggory stood before them.
Lily felt a whole new swell of emotion blooming in her as she heard of that poor young man who'd been simply tossed aside, and now making an appearance like this. His whole future ahead of him, gone, but now what was this? Good or bad?
Cedric took in the scene around him, and Harry couldn't quite tell what he was, not entirely a ghost as he looked too solid, but it spoke to him in his same voice, telling Harry to hold on.
Harry couldn't imagine how anyone else was processing this, he certainly was having a hard time getting past his own wonder. For just that one moment, Cedric was back, he was alive and hadn't suffered for Harry's existence. His throat almost swelled shut right then, as for a moment he thought this was his reward for suffering this night, Cedric being spared just a few more moments of life, but no. There was something soft resonating in him, gently encouraging him on.
Voldemort had no more knowledge of what was going on than him, fear tracing his scarlet eyes as he looked upon the being.
Remus would have been far more concerned if Voldemort had understood what was going on, as that couldn't mean it was anything good. Instead, he couldn't explain even to himself, but he was almost eagerly listening to Harry, his every being exuding that they should all be feeling this way.
Still the magic was continuing, as another was already forcing itself out as well, an older man who emerged just like Cedric and stood beside him, leaning on a walking stick as he took them both in. His first thought as he caught sight of Voldemort was to say his surprise of how he had been a real wizard.
James was surprised when he felt an honest smile flit across his face, that old man really had been something in his last moments, and like Cedric, it felt like a miracle he was being granted any extra time, no matter how mind blowing this feat of magic was.
He turned eyes on Harry next and gave the same advice, to keep fighting and don't stop. Though Harry had no intentions of doing so as yet another figure was coming out, and soon Bertha Jorkins stood among them.
Sirius was surprised at the burn that ran through him. He knew so many people from his school years set to die, and even just a random girl he'd never even liked being presented in this way still managed to set him off.
Her conviction was the same as the men, insisting to Harry that whatever he did, not to let go!
James shook his head for a moment as he considered, really stopped and thought, about what was going on. Harry was getting encouragement from a ghost against Voldemort!
The three figures began prowling their circumference of the golden enclosure, in opposition to the Death Eaters doing the same on the outside. They would whisper more encouragement to Harry as they passed, and hiss something unheard to Voldemort when near him.
"I can guarantee they weren't nice," Lily sneered.
Harry took a moment to stop, and just stare at her with a new smile they'd never seen before, and it was that look that suddenly had Sirius realizing just what exactly order these magical ghosts were appearing in, and why Harry could conceivably be happy for any of this...
Now more than ever Harry had no desire to make this stop, as he watched another coming through the wand, the woman he'd thought about more tonight than any other. Lily Potter materialized before him.
Lily and James were crying, and not even bothering to hide it. They didn't see the point as they now understood what Harry was seeing for the first time in his life, their echo, their shadows, but it was still more of them than even that mirror or any picture could hold.
She whispered to him his father was coming,
Harry felt something warm curling tight in his heart and promising to never leave as he heard his mother's first words. He had never considered his dementor memory as counting, as his parents last dying words were more heart aching to think of than something like this.
just hold on a little longer.
Her words rang true, as the final man to emerge, James Potter blossomed between them.
"I knew it," Harry whispered, unable to express into words how much it meant to him he was really seeing them now, as before he'd come here this was as close as he'd ever get to them.
There was hardly an inches height difference, their features so similar it ached as James looked him in the eye, and explained that once the connection broke, they would only linger for a moment. Harry had to use that time to get back to the Portkey, it would get him back to Hogwarts.
It really did feel like this was zapping the life out of Remus to hear about, because thinking about James as anything other than the Prongs huddled into his family right now, alive and breathing through a heavy chest but still as solid and alive as he'd always been. Still Remus' first response was to poke at his friend's comment, just like he always did to keep him on track, and ask what on earth that Cup was going to do, why would it be set as a two way Portkey? He couldn't get the words to actually move past his lips, it was too heart wrenching to even consider James in this way to move past it and say anything else.
Harry promised he understood, his own wand beginning to slip out of his fingers regardless to show he couldn't have held much longer.
Harry almost hated his wand in that moment, for forcing him to think of anything else other than drinking in as much of them as he could. It was enough to drown out another powerful feeling trying to remind him that though this was the most precious memory he had, it may not be the only one like it.
Cedric got in his final words as well, asking Harry to take his body back with him.
Harry wished that he could instead be living in a time where he could brush that off as a joke, like he'd ever leave any part of Cedric behind for the Death Eater's to do anything with, instead this came out as solemnly as his parents first words to him.
Harry swore he'd do this, and his father's voice urged him to break the connection, now!
Harry obeyed, with the hardest pull he'd ever had to do in his life the wands broke free, and Harry spun on the spot and ran like he never had before. The shadowy figures remained for a few moments longer, swarming Voldemort and blocking Harry from view.
Sirius made a wretched noise, rubbing at his streaming nose as he tried to get out, "see, not even your own graves could stop you helping him out." He'd meant it for James, and there was most certainly some form of happiness resonating in him for that being true.
Lily hummed in agreement, her hands never stopping the motion of curling through his hair. Her throat to restricted to get out anything more articulate until he was really away from that place.
Harry broke through the stunned rank of Death Eaters, took no notice of any of his injuries as his feet flew over gravestones and zigzagged a pattern around any oncoming spells.
From behind, Voldemort demanded he be stunned.
Harry could practically feel the mad adrenaline pumping through his veins again, his mind sprinting as fast as he'd forced his ungainly feet to move, and the others were so tight and desperate for Harry to be free now none of them would have questioned why Voldemort hadn't bothered to send that curse rather than telling someone else. Could it be because he longer trusted his own wand to do the deed? There was something significant in that train of thought, but Harry wanted to be done with his chapter already, so that he could set this book aside and really hug his parents again in gratitude for what they'd done for him even one more time.
He made it to Cedric's body, but the Cup still lay ten feet away. Harry couldn't carry Cedric, but his pursuers approach would be upon him in moments. Harry twisted on the spot and met the red eyes of Voldemort one last time as he cried Accio, summoning the Triwizard Cup to him.
James felt a wild gasp of relief finally escape him, watching Harry finish off the last few lines with gratitude so he could just stop, and think for a minute!
The silver cup was caught in his hand, and Voldemort's scream of fury was drowned out with the howl of wind carrying him away.
Harry snapped the book shut hard, and then proceeded to hug both of his parents to him as tightly as he'd ever been able to in his life.
James still hadn't even begun to fully process everything he'd just heard about the night of Voldemort's return, he was still too busy clinging to his only child and his wife to think past much of anything except for the fact that he never wanted to let go of either of them. That night could have so easily gone wrong, Harry could have never been here now, but instead would have remained like Cedric, dead and lost to the rest of the world forever. Whatever that magic was that had saved him, somehow his miracle had been granted, and he had finally been able to do just one thing for Harry, even beyond the grave. Later he could question how his ghost or whatever had even known the way to get back, later he would think about how that had all come to pass, later...
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m00nycore · 3 years
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𝙒𝙄𝙏𝙃 𝘼𝙇𝙇 𝙊𝙁 𝙈𝙔 𝙎𝙏𝙐𝙋𝙄𝘿 𝙃𝙀𝘼𝙍𝙏 ;; 𝙩𝙬𝙤 .
𝙞𝙣 𝙬𝙝𝙞𝙘𝙝 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙞𝙣𝙚𝙫𝙞𝙩𝙖𝙗𝙡𝙚 𝙞𝙨 𝙞𝙣𝙚𝙨𝙘𝙖𝙥𝙖𝙗𝙡𝙚 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙙𝙖𝙧𝙠𝙣𝙚𝙨𝙨 𝙞𝙨 𝙚𝙫𝙚𝙧𝙡𝙖𝙨𝙩𝙞𝙣𝙜 .
𝙎𝙀𝙍𝙄𝙀𝙎 𝙈𝘼𝙎𝙏𝙀𝙍𝙇𝙄𝙎𝙏
𝙙𝙧𝙖𝙘𝙤 𝙢𝙖𝙡𝙛𝙤𝙮 𝙭 𝙤𝙘 (𝙖𝙜𝙚𝙙 𝙪𝙥 𝙗𝙮 𝙩𝙬𝙤 𝙮𝙚𝙖𝙧𝙨)
𝙩/𝙬 : 𝙥𝙚𝙧𝙨𝙚𝙥𝙝𝙤𝙣𝙚 𝙞𝙨 𝙝𝙖𝙧𝙙𝙡𝙮 𝙚𝙖𝙩𝙞𝙣𝙜, 𝙩𝙤𝙭𝙞𝙘 𝙧𝙚𝙡𝙖𝙩𝙞𝙤𝙣𝙨𝙝𝙞𝙥, 𝙙𝙚𝙥𝙧𝙚𝙨𝙨𝙞𝙤𝙣, 𝙥𝙡𝙤𝙩𝙩𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙢𝙪𝙧𝙙𝙚𝙧
𝙏𝘼𝙂𝙇𝙄𝙎𝙏 ;; @dreaming-about-fanfictions @aesthetic-el @lord-byron​ @drxcomvlfx​
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Green apples and toast.
It’s what Draco had been sending to her room every day, according to Poppy. He had asked the elf- kindly, she said- to make sure she was eating and to find out what she wanted.
Everyday, Wren couldn’t help but give the same response. Draco had somehow chosen the food from the first day very well. The two weeks they spent at the manor before they went to Hogwarts was only endurable because of her carefully crafted routine.
Wren was an early riser. Six o’clock was her preferred wake-up time, and she began her day by sitting in a bath with the water so hot that it burned the entire time.
Poppy would bring her an apple soon after, as well as a pitcher of water and a cup. In the morning, her appetite was small. She would eat the apple in the tub, and when she was done, she’d exit the bath. Wren got dressed, and headed to the gardens by seven-thirty.
Wren stayed outside in the gardens, aimlessly wandering to kill times. She would return into the manor at noon, and she refused lunch from Poppy.
The best part of her day was the visit to the library, a room that was immaculate, but untouched for the most part. The room was huge, almost as large as her manor’s. The Malfoy family didn’t seem the type to read obsessively the way she did. She would take a few books out and return to her room.
By the time she had devoured each novel, Aegis nestled into her side, Poppy brought her dinner- toast and a green apple. As she ate, she asked Poppy to keep her company. The two would talk every night.
She would learn every detail of Poppy’s day, which comforted her. The Malfoy’s had a few house elves, and Poppy was becoming friendly with them. In turn, Poppy listened with wonder in her eyes as Wren described each book she had read to her.
At nine at night, she would lay in bed, waiting to be able to sleep. Many hours later, she was swept into a dreamless sleep.
The irony of her given name almost made her laugh- she was Persephone, trapped in the unforgiving Underworld. The green apple had been her pomegranate seed, and Draco was unwillingly her Hades.
Since the night in the gardens, the two hadn’t spoken, nor had Wren returned the ring to her finger. It would all change tomorrow, she knew, but she was strangely numb to it all. The monotony had gotten to her. 
Narcissa knocked on her door again that night, just as Wren was packing her trunk to return to school the following morning. As far as she knew, neither of them had left the house- save the time they ventured to Knockturn Alley. Poppy had told her about it.
“Good evening, Mrs. Malfoy,” she greeted.
Narcissa smiled at her, strained, standing by the door. She glanced at the ring that sat atop her pile of clothes.
“That was Lucius’ great-grandmother’s,” she commented, smiling softly. “My ring was passed down from his maternal grandmother, to his mother, to me. That ring was always meant to be yours.”
Wren studied the ring, a soft smile of her own growing on her face. “It’s beautiful. I suppose it’s fitting,” she decided, meeting Narcissa’s eyes. “Being Draco’s favorite color... it only makes sense that his bride-to-be sports it. He also likes silver, if I’m not mistaken, so the band is fitting as well.”
There was a pause.
“I know he was cruel to you, Persephone.”
She couldn’t help but wonder if she meant the time in the gardens, during their time at Hogwarts, or whilst they grew up together.
“We have a plan in the works,” Narcissa continued. “Draco can fill you in. He’s clever, he thought it up himself,” she hesitated. “Would you go talk to him, Persephone?”
Wren studied Narcissa, considering. “Yes,” she eventually answered.
Narcissa nodded and exited.
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The walk to Draco’s room was rather confusing, as she had no clue where to find it. 
She passed a house elf cleaning the banisters, and knelt down.
“Hello,” she greeted. The elf looked at her warily. “I’m Persephone,” she introduced herself.
“Oh! Yes, our new mistress Persephone. Please forgive Dilly, ma’am!” the elf cowered, making her heart break. She had a feeling that Lucius Malfoy’s cruelty wouldn’t make an exception for house elves.
Wren smiled kindly. “Hush, now,” she soothed. “I don’t mind. You don’t even have to call me mistress. Dilly, you said?” the elf nodded. “It’s nice to meet you, Dilly... do you perhaps know my elf, Poppy?”
The elf nodded. “Yes ma’am!” he squeaked. “Poppy told Dilly all about Mistress Persephone’s kindness! Poppy loves Mistress Persephone very much!”
“That makes me happy to hear, thank you,” she told the elf. “If you don’t mind me asking, where is Draco’s room?”
Dilly perked up. “Dilly can show you, ma’am! Is Master Malfoy expecting you?”
“I’m not sure,” she murmured, rising to her feet. “Would you care to walk with me, Dilly?” she reached her hand out for the elf to take.
“Yes ma’am!” he exclaimed, accepting her hand. 
As they walked, Dilly explained that he had been working for the Malfoy’s for many years. He held an obvious respect for the family, but Wren could see that it was built upon fear, regardless of if Dilly knew that or not.
When they arrived at Draco’s room, she looked down at Dilly, releasing her hand from his.
“Thank you, Dilly,” she said, grateful. “I’ll see you soon, hopefully!”
Dilly’s eyes lit up. “It was Dilly’s pleasure, Mistress Persephone!”
As Dilly ran off to finish her cleaning, Draco’s door opened.
He looked just as bad as when she saw him last. He wore his usual black suit, and his hands were in his pockets. 
“I’ll never understand your fascination with house elves,” he stated, the usual, insufferable tone in his voice.
“Must you always speak like you’re about to spit at someone?” 
He sneered, just as she predicted.
“Anyway, I’m not fascinated by them. I just think they’re such lovely souls. Especially my Poppy,” she was smiling.
“Why are you here Bardick?” Draco’s arms were crossed across his chest.
Wren’s brow crinkled. “To speak to you. Tomorrow we’re breaking the news of our engagement, after all.”
“I suppose you’ll be breaking up with Zabini then?”
She crinkled her nose. “Blaise and I are hardly even worthy of the term friends. Don’t get your knickers in a twist just because I rejected you for the ball and ended up taking him instead.”
Draco was still scowling. “Well, come in then,” he snapped, opening his door.
His room was as much of a prison as her’s was. 
Wren was baffled at how, despite living in the room for eighteen years, there was hardly any proof of his residence. His belonging were present, of course, but there was no personal style... it looked almost like a guest room rather than the room of the family heir.
They stood, awkwardly, across from each other until Wren turned to an armchair and sunk in it. 
“Your plan?” she wasted no time getting to business- after all, she knew that neither of them would make a move to acknowledge or apologize for the night in the gardens. It wasn’t their way. 
Draco sighed, going to sit on the edge of his extravagant bed, and running a hand over his face. He was frightened inside. 
“There’s a vanishing cabinet,” he began. “One in Borgin and Burkes.”
Wren nodded, aware of the plan immediately. It was hard not to hear about Montague’s near-death experience with the one in Hogwarts.
“So you’re sneaking them in the school,” she stated, prompting him to nod. “Before or after you kill our Headmaster?”
He was quiet. She already knew the answer- before. He would be grasping at any chance to have someone else take Dumbledore’s life.
“Draco, I know you’re-.”
“You don’t know anything,” he hissed. “He chose me! It’s my time!”
Wren ignored him. “As much as I hate to admit it, I’m here to help you. I know it’s scary, I know you don’t want to- hell, I don’t even want to help, but I don’t want to die. I couldn’t imagine having to carry out the deed.”
He was quiet, staring at her with an unreadable expression.
“So, this is Draco Malfoy’s room, hm? You should open the curtains more... you don’t look like you’ve seen the sun in ages.”
Malfoy smirked. “You’re one to talk, Bardick,” he teased, taking in the girl’s pale, sickly appearance. She swam in the large sweater she wore. As corpse-like as she could appear, her beauty could not be mistaken.
“I’ve been in the gardens every day, Draco,” she countered. “I’ve been busy.”
Draco almost looked... sympathetic. “It’s quite pathetic,” he commented. “Seeing you force yourself walk around for six hours.”
“You watch me in the garden, how sweet. Already so attentive of your bride-to-be.”
He snorted, a ghost of a smile on his face. He looked down at the ring.
“Have you eaten?” he asked, suddenly. 
“No,” she admitted. “Poppy must be looking for me. It’s around this time that I have to stomach my toast and apple.”
Draco shook his head, angry again. “You’re ridiculous,” he spat. “Think starving yourself would get you out of the mission, do you?”
“I’m not hungry.”
He stood suddenly, and walked forward to grab her wrist.
“Get off,” she ordered, a murderous edge to her voice. “What the hell are you doing?” 
“Having dinner with my fiancée,” he replied, through gritted teeth.
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karmathecat · 3 years
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Firewhiskey is Not the Best Mixer
The next chapter of my time travel fic is ready! 
AO3 | FF 
Lily woke before her grandmother the next morning, her teenage grandmother. She shook her head and decided that that train of thought was something she was not going to entertain. Her and her brother were here and there was no use fretting over how weird it was, her dad faced the weirdest of all weird situations when he was her age and younger so she could deal with time travel. Hell, her dad had time traveled too, nothing was new in this family.
Lily slid out of the bed silently and tiptoed to the other side of the room to the bathroom. Once inside she saw another door opposite from the one that she entered through, and presumed this led to the Head Boy’s room. Deciding that her grandfather seeing her in the shower was a level of weird that she could not face, whether he was a teenager or not, she locked both the doors and hopped into the shower.
With the water running through her hair, Lily thought back on the conversation with the other Lily that she had last night, how much she had revealed and she couldn’t make herself feel bad for breaking her one rule when she saw the older girl’s reaction.
“I marry James?” Lily Evans bright green eyes, the same as her brother’s and her dad’s, were wide and staring at Lily in hope. She couldn’t help but giggle, thinking back on the stories her dad had told her, however limited, and realised that Lily disliking her husband when they were teenagers might not have been correct at all.
“You do, you have my dad, who in turn has my brothers and I.” Lily squealed, literally squealed, at the information which took the younger girl by surprise. The two girls giggled together under the covers like twelve year olds as Lily told her granddaughter that she had fancied James for over six months but was scared that he had gotten over his crush on her and they were doomed to be “just friends” forever. When she asked why she had waited so long to act on her feelings, Lily blushed and told her about how she had been so stubborn about her feelings and was so scared that James was simply in it for the chase and not because he actually like her, once she realised her feelings she was so scared of being rejected that she simply hadn’t said anything.
Lily Luna had smiled and made a joke about how she was very certain that James was in it for the end game, and both girls had laughed, Lily Evans beaming until they had both fallen asleep.
Once out of the shower, Lily wrapped a towel securely around herself and reentered the Head Girl’s room holding the clothes she had slept in. At the end of the bed she found a second trunk next to the Head Girl’s. Opening it, she found the basics she would need, a school robe and toiletries along with some socks and underwear, which made her question whether Professor Dumbledore had picked these out for her and seriously hoped he hadn’t.
After putting on the school skirt and shirt, she noticed the tie was missing and guessed that the Headmaster hadn’t wanted to presume their school houses after Lily’s fierce response to Sirius’ questioning of Al the night before. Lily couldn't help but smirking at Al’s reaction to having to put on a red tie if the Headmaster had presumed their houses. Glancing down at James’ borrowed quidditch jersey, she decided to keep the jumper, placing it into the trunk thinking her dad would love to have something of his dad’s, and if a nice thing for her dad could come from this accident then she would ensure it would happen.
Lily opened the door and headed down the steps into the common room. She saw Remus, Sirius and Peter asleep on the coaches and the floor, and smiled that the Marauders had wanted to be together in the face of something so strange happening. She had heard stories about how close the group of friends had been, but to see it with her own eyes was different. Her eyes landed on Peter and she frowned. She remembered asking her dad about him, asking if he was evil or whether he had simply not had a choice, and her dad had replied that everyone always has a choice, there are always more paths than the one in front of you but the one in front of you might simply be the easiest.
Shaking her head, she decided again not to dwell on these things, they weren’t her business, she knew she couldn’t change anything. With that, she left the negativity behind her and skipped over to the spare room door, slamming it open and waking both her brothers in the process. Lily assessed their bleary eyed state as they both reached for their glasses and took a running jump onto the bed, landing on the two of them with a mighty war cry.
Having been woken by the door slamming, the three Marauders that were asleep in the common room, rushed to the spare room to inspect the commotion. They were met with the not unusual view, if they knew the Potter children, of the three brawling on the bed. From what Sirius could tell Lily was actually winning, with the redhead bouncing up and down holding James’ glasses above her head and out of his reach, whilst Al tickled her side in an attempt to get her knee out of his stomach.
“Concede! You know I’ve won this round boys, concede!” Lily continued to shout this as the boys struggled to gain an advantage on the surprise attack. The Marauders started to chuckle at their antics, and Remus questioned just how close these three were if Lily felt comfortable enough to barge into the room whilst the two boys were sleeping.
“What is going on here?” James came down his stairs and into the spare room where the three on the bed froze and looked at him.
“I’m clearly winning a wrestle, is what is happening here.” Lily smiled cheekily at the Head Boy causing him to laugh. In her moment of distraction, Al and James pushed Lily off them causing her to squeal as she fell to the floor.
“Oi! That was rude, and after I woke you up so nicely!” Al rolled his eyes as he got up and James pushed his little sister back to the floor as she stood in retaliation to her cheek.
“If you guys are done abusing each other,” everyone turned to see Lily Evans tying her dressing gown behind Remus, “how about we all get dressed and get breakfast. The majority of people who stay for the holidays don’t go down to breakfast so we should be fine to bring you. Anyway, I think there were only two third years staying for the holidays.”
Lily showered first, followed by each of the Potter boys in turn, while Lily sat in the common room waiting. The other three Marauders made their way to the dorm to shower and then came back to the Heads’ dorm once everyone was ready for breakfast. Both James and Al were also in the basic Hogwarts uniform, a white shirt and trousers and both had jumpers on that the Marauders had given them. Al was sporting a green jumper with stags stitched into the material, whilst James was in a red jumper that stated he was “the dog’s bollocks.” All but Lily Evans had laughed at the inside joke as James pulled the jumper over his head. Lily had been given a sweater from her grandmother this time, a simple blue item that fit her perfectly which was surprising considering how similar she was to her grandmother.
Once they started walking towards the Great Hall, Lily noticed her grandmother linger towards the back of the group as they walked through the halls, and was not surprised at all when James Potter gravitated towards her. Lily couldn’t hear their conversation but from their body language she could tell that the Head Girl was laying it on thick, flirting within an inch of her life, and by the confident walk of her companion, he had no objections.
Lily quickened her step slightly to fall in with Sirius. They had spoken briefly the night before about her using the map, but she knew that her dad had really bonded with Sirius in his youth, so she was going to grasp the opportunity to also know him with both hands.
He looked at her in surprise when she linked her arm in his, and hesitantly returned her smile when she beamed at him.
“So, no one ever told me you were a looker.” Her cheek seemed to put him more at ease, as he barked a laugh, and shook his hair out of his face and gave an exaggerated wink in her direction.
“Well, it is a great disservice that you were unaware of such beauty.”
“Only one elite beauty can exist at once, and I’m afraid I have that covered in my own time so I had no use to know about your beauty. I wonder how people will cope being faced with both of our exquisite faces side by side?” The banter continued all through the journey to the Great Hall, even James and Al joined in- “Um excuse me Lily, we are both beautiful.” “You were cursed with Potter hair, pipe down” - and by the time the group entered for breakfast, Lily and Sirius were chatting like old friends. Sirius marveled at the ability that Lily had to put people at ease, she was so outgoing and confident and it reminded him of how he had immediately clicked with James on the Hogwarts express in their first year.
Entering the Great Hall, Lily saw that it was in fact empty apart from one Slytherin boy who she immediately recognised. Lily knew from her friends that during Christmas the house tables were removed and replaced with a single round table to accommodate the smaller number of students that stayed at Hogwarts instead of going home to their families. Lily had never seen this as she had always delighted in going home to her family and spending her time carrying out the Potter/Weasley festive traditions.
Lily looked over her shoulder at Al and saw that he too had seen Severus Snape sitting at the table eating his breakfast. The marauders were too busy talking with each other to notice the other boy, so Lily and Al made their way to the table, observing the boy they only knew as a painting. The Severus Snape they knew doted on the two of them, spending countless hours entertaining their questions with a patience that surprised their dad. The older man had no patience for Lily’s eldest brother and Lily didn’t think this bothered James all that much as he was always too busy running ragged to sit and ask the portrait any questions anyway.
Before Lily could think of the obvious repercussions to doing so and stopping herself, she sat a seat over from the boy.
“Hi.”
Severus looked up confused and looked at Lily, who was beaming at him. Lily felt Al sit down in the seat next to her and lean to look at his namesake.
“Lily?” Severus looked at her searchingly, noticing the differences in her face and, most noticeably, her hair. This wasn’t his Lily.
“My name is Lily, but I’m not the Lily that you know. This is my brother Al,” Lily gestured to her right where Al waved, “We’re visiting from far away for a few days until we can get back to where we came from.”
Severus frowned, this was obviously some kind of cruel joke. The marauders were notorious for these ridiculous kinds of things, and it was just cruel of Lily to join in his torture.
“I never thought you’d stoop so low as to join in with their stupid schemes,” Snape hissed at Lily taking her aback having never seen this side to her mentor, “I never thought you’d be so cruel. I should have expected it from a stupid mudblood.”
With his biting words Snape abruptly stood away from the table and stormed out the room, not looking back to see the hurt on Lily and Al’s faces from his words. James watched after Severus after he barged past him, and after looking at his siblings’ hurt faces, he surmised what had happened and rushed over to them. He immediately wrapped his arms around his sister and felt her return the hug tightly.
“It’s a different time Lil, he doesn’t know you or the relationship that you’ve built with him. He isn’t the Severus that you know.” James felt Lily nod against his stomach from her seated position, and glanced over at his brother who looked stunned. Catching his eye Al shrugged his shoulders.
“I don’t know what I expected, I didn’t expect him to be so cruel though. But you’re right it’s a different time.”
Sirius dropped into the seat beside Al and hit him on the back affectionately, “Old Snivellus doesn’t have a nice bone in his body, what did you expect, an invitation to a tea party with his Death Eater buddies?”
James shook his head at Sirius from over Al’s head and took the seat that was recently vacated by the Slytherin boy.
“Hey look Lil, there’s pancakes, your favourite! I have missed Hogwarts food so much, I just can’t seem to replicate it in my flat.” Lily smiled at her brother’s attempt to cheer her up, and piled her plate with pancakes and drowned them in syrup, he was right, they were her favourite.
“You know Snape from your time?” The question was directed at the Potter siblings from Lily Evans, she eyed them inquisitively wondering how a relationship could develop between her childhood friend and the children of a Potter considering the bad blood that she knew ran between the two in her time.
Al shrugged and answered as he reached for his own food, “Kind of.”
Lily wanted to ask more but James placed a hand on her knee and she closed her mouth. She looked at the boy next to him and was reminded of the conversation she had had with her granddaughter last night and blushed when James didn’t move his hand from her knee, she found that she didn’t mind at all.
“So,” everyone turned their attention to Remus who had spoken, “As much as it is a pleasure having you here, how are you planning on getting home?”
“I’m not too sure, there must be a way we can’t stay here forever. I don’t know a whole amount about time travel, it's not needed in my line of work at all.” James looked towards his brother who devoured information in order to take the upcoming unspeakables exam for once he graduated Hogwarts the coming summer.
Al shrugged, “Time travel is weird and not well documented, especially after a lot of time turners were destroyed that time the Department of Mysteries were broken into.” The three Potters exchanged amused glances.
“Time turners aren’t that powerful though,” Sirius spoke up from over his breakfast, “they allow you to travel hours not years, that’s a lot of spinning to get that many years too.”
James nodded, finally taking his hand off the Head Girl’s knee, “if only there was a room where you could request whatever you needed, that would be so useful.”
At James’ words Lily’s head shot up, “yes if only there was a room that gave you anything you required. ”
The weight of her words made her brothers look at her in question.
“A room in the castle that currently isn’t destroyed and will give you anything you ask if the stories were true?”
James and Al lit up with recognition.
“Care to share with the group?” Lily looked over at the Marauders and Lily and nodded thinking how to careful word her answer to not reveal her parentage.
“During their fifth year, all of our parents and their friends found a room that would give you anything you wanted, a place to hide things, a place to train, anything you needed. We might be able to ask for a way to return to our own time. I bet we have to word our request very specifically. We can think about it for sure.”
“How do we not know about this room?” Sirius addressed his question to his fellow Marauders in outrage.
“You guys not knowing about it would explain why it wasn’t on the map actually.”
“Well let’s eat up and see what we can do, I for one want to see this room.”
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joaquinwhorres · 3 years
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The Fool (Ch. 3) {Fred Weasley x F!OC}
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SUMMARY ››››› After getting tangled up with the Weasley Twins during the events of the Quidditch World Cup, Wren Collings’ life takes a turn for the chaotic. It threatens everything she has going for her, but she’s not convinced that’s entirely a bad thing.
PAIRING ››››› Fred Weasley x Female OC
WORD COUNT ››››› 5,500-ish
WARNINGS ››››› There is no depression or mental health issues in this story, but there are mentions of death, violence, abuse, some PTSD, etc. As most of the specific warnings revolve around major plot points or are found throughout most chapters, I’m just going to rate certain chapters on the movie scale. This is chapter PG-13.
A/N ››››› This chapter This chapter kicked my butt. But the fact that it's written and posted and I did not disappear for a year (which has been known to happen when I can't seem to get a chapter right) is a victory.
Series Masterlist | Read on ff.net
Word of the Thom Spiro Incident--what Wren had finally agreed to call the small display of justice at lunch--spread quickly throughout the castle. While this was somewhat worrisome, it was not an entirely unexpected consequence. Besides, for the most part, the student body seemed focused on the fact that Thom had rather abruptly turned completely violet and not so much on the hows, whos, and whys of the situation.
Although Wren was fairly certain that it was only a matter of time before those questions would ripple through the castle, she was proved wrong on her way to Divination. As she was passing by a gaggle of third year girls, she overheard their whispers: apparently, during the fourth to fifth block class change, Professor Snape had been seen arguing with Professor Sprout about her standards for admission to her NEWT level class. This news quickly passed from student to student, bringing new life to the buzz surrounding the Incident and easing Wren's anxiety a bit.
While a purple student and quarreling professors would be enough to keep the student body talking for at least a week, right before dinner the drama came to a head when loud shouts were heard coming from the Hospital Wing. According to Lee, three girls had been dragged out by Hagrid and Madam Hooch, kicking and screaming at each other. From what he could gather, each of them had been to visit Thom only to discover he was dating all three of them.
This of course had inspired Fred Weasley to give a small toast in Wren's honor, despite her protests that he "Sit down!" and "Shh!". Afterwards, the Twilight Protectorate--the name Alicia saw fit to bestow upon them--spent the rest of dinner sharing the various speculations they'd heard throughout the day about "the purple Ravenclaw."
But much in the same way the purple slowly faded from Thom's skin, so did the excitement surrounding the incident. Life moved on. Thom's Herbology station was moved closer to Professor Sprout, the Weasley twins stopped making a show of watching Wren's every move, and normal life at Hogwarts resumed.
For the most part.
There seemed to be a lingering closeness between Wren and her dorm mates. Alicia had taken to insisting that Wren come to the library with her and Angelina and Katie or join their game of Exploding Snap or come and lay out on the lawn with them.
This was exactly where the girls found themselves stretched out now, Angelina halfheartedly working on her muggle studies homework, the rest having long given up on their own parchments and books scattered between them.
“Reckon we don’t have too many days left like this,” Katie mused, tucking her arms under her head as she lifted her face to the sun.
“I’m surprised we even got this one,” Angelina remarked, scratching out an answer and rewriting a new one.
It was unusually pleasant even for early October. The girls' jumpers were plenty to keep them warm against the cool breeze that swept across the lawn every now and then, rustling their parchments and flipping pages in their books.
"It'd be nice if it stayed like this for your birthday," Katie said. "We could do something on the lawn then."
Angelina shook her head as she continued to scan through the book in front of her for a bit of information. "We don't need to do anything for my birthday."
"You're turning 17," Alicia pushed, as if the fact that Angelina would finally be of age was lost on her. "You'll officially be able to do magic whenever you want."
"And drink whatever you want," Wren put in, lifting her head up from her folded arms and propping her chin up in her hand.
"I want to see Angelina do shots of Firewhiskey," Katie smiled, turning onto her stomach to stare at Angelina. Angelina, for her part, simply rolled her eyes.
"Not going to happen," she said, with a firm shake of her head, quill scratching lightly against the parchment. "The only thing that's really going to be any different over the next eight months is that I can enter the Tournament."
Alicia gasped excitedly, jerking up into a seated position. "You're going to do it?"
"Do what?"
Wren jumped as there was a flurry of robes next to her and Lee Jordan settled himself next to her, stretching out his feet and leaning back on his arms.
"Angelina's going to enter the Tournament!" Alicia responded as Fred and George dropped themselves into the spaces between Katie and Alicia, and Wren and Angelina.
"Excellent," Fred said, nudging books out of the way with his foot. "We'll be putting our names in as well."
"But your birthdays aren't until April," Katie's brow furrowed as she stacked the book Fred moved on top of another one.
"That's right," George nodded.
"You have to be 17 to enter," Katie pressed.
A smile quirked at the corner of Fred's lips. "And when has something as trivial as a rule ever stopped us?"
Alicia snorted, and Angelina heaved a sigh, closing her book and rolling up her parchment.
"The way we see it, all we have to do is fool the judge. And if he--"
"It," Wren corrected, twirling a blade of grass between her fingers. The eyes of the group fell on her as Fred's sentence was abandoned.
"It?" George repeated.
Wren looked up, glancing around the circle. "Well, the judge can't be a person."
"Do go on," Fred extended a hand as if to prompt her. Angelina smacked at his shoulder and he withdrew his hand, scowling at her.
Wren flushed, and shook her head, but George nudged her with his shoulder. "C'mon, all theories are worth hearing."
"Well, it can't possibly be a professor from any of the three schools; they're not impartial. And it's unlikely it'll be a Ministry person either since a victory for Hogwarts is a victory for Britain. And I doubt they'd get some international ministry member to come in and decide. For one, they're much too busy, and for two, they'd be easily swayed by international politics. Which means that it's probably some sort of object like the sorting hat, or maybe a creature."
There was a brief silence after her observation followed by a small "Huh." out of Fred.
"That does make what Dumbledore said about personally ensuring no underage student hoodwinks the judge," Alicia nodded. "It's unlikely a judge able to determine the best the school has to offer would be easily tricked."
Fred looked thoughtfully over Wren's shoulder, his eyes distant and brow furrowed slightly. Beside her George was also stiller than normal, only drumming his thumb lightly against his leg.
"Reckon you'll put your name in, if we figure out a way around the judge?" Lee asked Alicia who shook her head.
"I'm happy being a spectator for once," she said, pulling her knees into her chest and wrapping her arms around them. "I just hope one of you gets it. It'll be nice to have a Gryffindor champion to cheer for."
"Trust me," Fred said, his eyes landing on Wren. "There'll be a Gryffindor champion."
Wren sank into a spot at the Gryffindor table with just twenty minutes to spare before she had to head off to Charms. It was not the first time she'd woken up with a start followed immediately by a sinking sensation at the sight of her empty dorm. It wasn't even the first time this year. She'd cut it even closer just two weeks back. Still, any morning that entailed sprinting down seven staircases all while praying that Peeves didn't notice her never instilled a feeling of victory or relief or even gratitude when she turned into the Great Hall and there was still food on the tables.
All that to say, she was not in the best of moods when the Weasley twins sat themselves across the breakfast table from her with identical mischievous smiles on their faces.
"How would you like to make magical history?" Fred asked.
Wren blinked twice, her heart still racing from her run, as she stared between the two of them. "Morning to you as well. I'm fine enough, thank you for asking. And no, I wasn't about to use that jam, please help yourself," she said bitterly, gesturing to where George was topping a bit of toast with raspberry jam that Wren had just been about to use before it slipped from under her fingers.
"Excellent, now that we've gotten the pleasantries out of the way, what do you say?" Fred gestured for her to answer. Wren continued to glare at George until he handed the jar back over to her so she could continue fixing her breakfast.
"What do you mean magical history?" she asked. Despite the fact that her attention was on her plate, she could practically feel the grins grow on the twins faces. It was rather annoying.
"Knew she'd be curious," Fred shot to George.
"Never doubted it," George shot back.
Wren placed the knife down, shaking her head. "I take it back. If I know you two, this isn't going to be anything good. I don't want any part of it."
"Look at this, Fred, she's got us all figured out."
"Well, George, we have had three conversations together. I'd say that's enough to infer motives."
Wren ignored the bickering and leveled them with a look. "I know you two well enough to know that you're Fred," she said pointing to the twin claiming to be George, "And you're George."
Their eyes brightened with delight. "Well spotted, Collings," Fred complimented. "What gave us away?'
Before Wren had a chance to make up some sort of answer--there was no way she was going to give away the tricks Angelina had taught her--George cut in. "You're forgetting, Fred, that Wren and I are close personal friends," he remarked with a significant look, punctuating the statement with a bite of his toast.
Wren's eyes widened and she felt the heat rush into her cheeks. "We don't need to speak about that. Ever."
Fred laughed. "That bad was it?"
"Hang on now, you hardly gave me any warning," George argued, defensively.
Wren glowered at them some more and resolved herself to never be late to breakfast ever again.  "Get back to your original point or I'm leaving."
"Fine, fine," Fred agreed, squaring his shoulders to face her. "How would you like to be the first witch to brew a potion that stumps Albus Dumbledore?"
"Be serious then," Wren shook her head, expecting the twins to come clean about asking for help with a prank or some other sort of mischief. But instead, they simply peered intently at her with expectant looks on their faces. "You're joking. No. "
"You're in NEWT level potions," George said.
"As a Gryffindor no less," Fred added.
"Angelina says you have top marks too." George casually bit into his toast again.
Wren's stomach let out a grumble and she paused the conversation long enough to take a bite of her scone. She chewed it slowly, eyeing the twins as if expecting them to break and admit they were teasing her. Instead they looked at her with eyebrows raised and hands folded in front of them as if at a business meeting. She swallowed, shaking her head.  "That just means I'm good at paying attention and following instructions."
George gave a meaningful look to Fred. "Modest, this one."
"Incredibly," Fred nodded back at his brother. Wren huffed and returned to her breakfast, multitasking by giving the two a rude hand gesture.
They didn't seem to get the point.
"It's admirable, really."
"A shining example to all of wizardkind."
"Stop it, you two," Wren snapped.
Fred shook his head, reaching over to Wren's plate and stealing a piece of bacon, despite the fact that there was a perfectly good platter of it sitting slightly to his right.
"You've got a gift Wren Collings," George appealed. "This could be your time to show it off."
"Not only that, but you're clever and more devious than you appear,"  Fred said, waving the bacon at her. "Far more devious than a prefect's girlfriend should be."
Wren shot him a dirty look, but before she could properly chew him out, George jumped in. "We need your help."
She looked down at her plate and picked up the remaining piece of bacon before either of the twins could reach for it. "What potion do you want me to brew?"
This mischievous grins were back on their faces, and this truly was a horrible idea.
"Just a simple ageing potion." Fred shrugged.
"Oh yes, very simple; all I have to do is brew a potion that instantaneously ages every cell in your body the exact same amount."
"That about explains it," George nodded, and Wren shook her head.
"I don't suppose you're going to tell me why you need an ageing potion?"
"Thought it'd be obvious," Fred said, reaching over to her plate to grab a scone, and she slapped his hand away. "It's for the Tournament of course. Just in case there's some sort of measure to make sure we're 17."
Wren laughed again, this one slightly more disbelieving than full on incredulous. "There's no way I'll be able to make a potion good enough  to get you into the Tournament--get your own bloody scone, Fred." Wren snapped, batting away his hand once more. He raised his eyebrows but finally started to pick at the surrounding serving plates rather than take from hers.
"Don't be so self-defeating Wren," George broke in. "You brewed one well enough on the NEWTs to get an O. Besides, we're not asking you to get us picked--just to help us submit our names."
Wren shook her head. "Do you have a plan for gathering the ingredients? Or figuring out how to haul a cauldron to some unseen location so I can brew a potion without anyone in Hogwarts noticing?"
Fred paused from preparing his own scone to look at Wren disbelievingly. "It's like you don't even know us at all."
"And here we were thinking that you got us."
Wren rolled her eyes, but she couldn't ignore that small question that had wriggled its way out of the back of her mind: could she create a potion that stumped Dumbledore's magic? No, the thought was absolutely ludicrous. He'd been practising magic for 100 years more than her. But could she create a potion that slid through a crack in Dumbledore's thinking? She didn't need to overcome his magic; she just needed to outwit it. And who was better at outwitting brilliant thinkers than the two boys sitting in front of her.
"I'll consider it," Wren said, taking a sip of her pumpkin juice.
The energy buzzing around the two boys was almost electric. "They're going to read about you in History of Magic," George declared.
"Or at least fall asleep on your page."
Wren broke off a bit of her scone and tossed it at Fred who allowed it to bounce off of him before popping it into his   mouth.
"Might want to pack up the rest," George said, gesturing at Wren's plate. "Breakfast is over in--" The serving dishes around them vanished, and Wren just managed to grab a half of her scone before her plate and its contents disappeared as well.
She really had to wake up earlier in the morning.
"Here," George said, offering a piece of toast he had snatched up. Wren didn't even bother to fake a protest at the kindness, and instead took it from him with a small thanks. After all, he was part of the reason she hadn't been able to eat her full breakfast. A small part, but a part.
Wren rose from the table, the twins getting up as well and moving to her side. "Shouldn't take much to get the ingredients. Quick OWL to the Apothecary should get us what we need." Fred thought aloud.
"Might have to go closer to home than that," George said with a meaningful look to Fred. Fred nodded, thinking about it before his eyes turned to Wren.
"I suppose we do know someone taking NEWT level potions who does have access to--"
"No," Wren said, clearly. "I'm not stealing from Snape."
"We wouldn't call it stealing," George protested.
"It's simply a reallocation of supplies," Fred shrugged. "Still for an education."
"A hands on, useful education."
Wren rolled her eyes and continued on. "You're in charge of the cauldron and ingredients. If I agree to do anything it's just to make the potion."
"Oh, you'll agree," Fred said, trailing behind her slightly with George.
"You're sure, are you?" Wren asked, turning around in the hall.
Fred's eyes sparkled. "Dead certain."
Wren rolled her eyes and spun back around, polishing off the remainder of her scone and brushing her hand against her side. Behind her the boys continued their conversation about ingredients and she worked her way to the Charms classroom.
"Hey Collings, my mate thinks you're tidy!" a voice shouted out to her, and she stopped, spinning around to see  Simon strolling up with Hector and Edmund. Simon rolled his eyes as Hector laughed, and Wren smiled, allowing him to catch up to her. Fred and George also stopped, and she could feel both pairs of eyes on her.
"Good morning, love," Simon said, coming up to her and letting Hector and Edmund pass by snickering and casting a glance back at Simon.
"It's morning, not sure how good it is though," Wren pouted, falling into step with him.
Simon smiled. "You shouldn't be so grumpy in the mornings. It doesn't suit you," he said, rubbing the crease in her brow with his finger. "Besides, isn't it a good morning when you get a rare sighting of your boyfriend?"
"A fair point," Wren agreed, allowing herself a smile as he threw an arm around her shoulders.
"Is that toast?" he asked, looking down at her hand, and Wren nodded. Simon reached over plucking it from her grip and taking a bite. "You mind? I'm still famished."
"Go ahead," Wren nodded.
"Where are you off to then?" Simon asked, taking another bite of toast.
"Charms."
The word didn't come from Wren. Instead, Fred appeared suddenly by her side, George next to him. Wren could see the subtle shift in Simon's face. The confusion and small question there as he looked down at her. "Is that so?"
Wren rolled her eyes, ignoring the way her heart seemed to skip over a beat. "Unfortunately."
"Unfortunately?" Fred asked, putting a hand over his own heart. "I'm wounded Wren, I thought we were friends."
Wren snorted and shook her head.
"You're friends?" Simon asked, looking down at her again before casting a glance and Fred and George. "That's news to me."
"Keep a catalogue of her friends do you?" Fred asked. Wren turned to face him, an eyebrow raised. His words seemed sharper than his usual teases. Her heart beat a bit quicker.
"Smart. Must come in handy when this one goes on about her day," George nodded. "Or at parties, I'd imagine."
Wren laughed, the sound higher than normal. She cleared her throat and reached up, threading her fingers through Simon's so that both hands rested on her shoulder.  "Our campsites were next to each other at the World Cup and we got on," she explained, looking up at Simon as he absently bit from the toast, eyes still on the twins. "Now they bother me whenever they have the chance."
"You know us. Botherers." George said, and Simon shook his head at it all. He might have said something else if the Hallway didn't split, one leading to the greenhouses, and the other off to Charms.
"Well, so long as they don't bother you too much," he said, pulling Wren in closer to him. He leaned down and kissed her hard, his lips pressing against hers so forcefully, she felt the blood and heat rush to her face as she attempted to pull the kiss back into a normal hallway peck. She was rather unsuccessful and stayed locked in his embrace until eventually he let go, and with a nod of goodbye at Fred and George, turned off down the hall.
"Change your mind about how good the morning is Collings?" George nodded appraisingly, as a slightly stunned Wren turned back towards them.
"Oh, shove it," Wren snapped lightly before following them off to class and enduring more teasing than she possibly should have to for it being before nine in the morning.
She intended to tell them no.
It wasn't as if she had any moral qualms with breaking the rules, but it seemed to be a lot of wasted time and energy and for what--so they could attempt to enter a tournament they weren't even prepared for? There was no guarantee they'd even be picked. And what if it came back on her and she got in trouble for breaking the rules.
No. She'd have to tell them no.
Even though Simon was right and the school year had smoothed out some in terms of workload, she was too busy to willingly waste her time on a pipe dream.
But the spare bits of time that were already wasted once she was finished taking notes in class and waiting for everyone else to catch up? That wasn't too much time to devote to the idea.
Wren bent over her parchment, scanning over her list of prospective ingredients. There was the set list needed, and then several others she'd included on a whim: dandelion root, tadpole legs, a little more fluxweed. She considered the list for a second before scrawling at the bottom: boomslang skin?
"What are you working on?" Cedric whispered, lowly. Wren's head snapped towards him, an arm reflexively coming around her parchment as if to shield it from view.
He let out an amused exhale and raised his eyebrows as if to say Really? "An illicit project then?"
"No," Wren returned defensively. She paused, taking a moment to fully consider it.  "Maybe."
Cedric smiled, and she lifted up her pitiful shield arm, putting her head  in her hand instead to shield his face from view as she slid the parchment over to him.
"An ageing potion?" Cedric asked, a tinge of disappointment coloring his voice. "What's so--" he seemed to catch on then. "For the Tournament?"
Wren nodded and dropped her hand. "It's not for me, though."
"Of course not," he dismissed, eyes returning to the list of ingredients with her additions and ideas about ways to modify the brewing process.
"It's not," Wren protested a bit too loudly, casting her glance around and finding Snape staring at her. She picked up her quill and bent her head down, pretending to be copying more notes.
"I don't blame you for wanting to enter, I'm planning on it," Cedric noted, dropping his own voice lower as well. "What's with all of the extra ingredients?"
Wren chanced another look up at Snape, whose head was bent over a stack of parchments on his desk. She looked over Cedric's shoulder at her notes. "If I want to make a potion that gets around Dumbledore's precautions, it can't be a simple ageing potion. It needs to address any potential...failsafes."
Cedric turned to look at her. "You're a bit of a genius, aren't you?"
Wren flushed. "I haven't even decided if I'm going to make it yet."
"I don't see why not," Cedric said, pushing the parchment back over to Wren. "If you're able to make this, you'd deserve more of a shot at being Champion than me. I'm just putting my name in. I do have a question though," he said, and Wren nodded, looking down at her scribblings.
"Have you considered adding lovage?"
She shook her head.
"If you crushed it right, the effects would be harmless to the drinker, but it would sweat through…"
"And create an air of confusion around them," Wren finished, eyes widening. The aura might make it more likely for the seller to miss the fact that the twins were aged up. "That's brilliant," she complimented, adding the ingredient to her list.
"Happy to have helped," Cedric nodded at her, his eyes catching on something up front before bending over his work. "Snape's coming," he hissed.
Wren shuffled the notes between other bits of parchment under her books, pulling out her finished Potions notes and feeling a little less than certain in her impending refusal of the twins' request.
No good deed went unpunished.
That was the only possible explanation for Fred Weasley to be dropping his books next to hers right now. She was being punished for turning Thom Spiro purple. Despite the fact it was two weeks later. It seemed that karma took time.
"Don't look so excited," Fred chastised. "I've recently learned that Herbology is serious business, so I can't be helping you with your mischief."
Wren glowered, and in return, he winked at her.
“This is part of your plan isn’t it?” Wren asked, narrowing her eyes at Fred. “All that on Tuesday was so you’d get reassigned to be my partner?”
She was referencing, of course, the awful prank he had played on Anthony Hooper. Throughout the entire class Fred had continuously baited the Poulpeplant into wrapping one of its vines around Anthony’s foot so that any time he moved, it yanked him back, sending him sprawling to the ground.
It hadn't been until the end of class that Anthony caught Fred dropping bits of bait into his pants' cuff.
The class had had a laugh and ended before Professor Sprout had been able to fully lecture Fred about the dangers of messing around in Herbology.
She still had plenty of time to take away 25 points from Gryffindor, though.
“Now why would I want to be your partner? You poisoned your last one.”
“I did not!” Wren hissed. “He wasn’t my partner, and it was a light poisoning at most.” She paused, pieces clicking together. "You're here to get me to help you steal ingredients. Aren't you?"
"First off, I believe I already clarified that we aren't stealing--we're reallocating. And second, you made it very clear that obtaining ingredients wasn't part of the deal."
"It's not."
"Could be though."
"But it's not."
"You have been known to be light-fingered."
Wren glared and Fred smiled. “We have another plan for the ingredients. Getting reassigned to be your partner is but a happy accident.”
She did not believe him. "I'm not helping you get ingredients. I haven't even decided if I'll help you," Wren said.
Fred gave her a very disbelieving look and then reached over, and tugged her copy of Advanced Potions Making from her stack of books. Wren let out a noise of protest, but before she could further yell at him, he cut her off. "You don't have Potions today."
Wren reached over to grab the book back as her clear objection was ignored. "You know my schedule?"
"Of course I do. It's part of the planning," he dismissed, pulling it out of her grasp and holding it up. "Which begs the question why are you carrying this around?"
It was then that he seemed to catch sight of the parchment sticking out and slipped it out from the book.
Wren reached forward only to have Fred shove the book back in her hands. "You know, if I didn't know any better, I'd say this looks like the makings of an age potion."
There was no point in arguing that it was for Potions. Fred was frustrating, grandstanding, and overeager, but sadly, he was not stupid.
"I wanted to see if it could even be done before I agreed to it."
"You were curious," Fred grinned, looking rather like the niffler that caught the galleon.
"I was being practical," Wren defended.
Fred shook his head. "You already knew you could make an age potion. You wanted to see if you could make the best age potion." Fred bent over the parchment. "So what's with these ingredients?"
Wren summoned the parchment back to her and it flew through Fred's fingers, rolling itself up so she could tuck it in her bag.  "I was brainstorming different ways to make the potion foolproof. Or fool sure. Adding an aura of conversion, binding it more strongly with your DNA, making the effects more permanent--"
"More permanent?" Fred asked. "Eager as I am to enter the Tournament, it's not worth losing six months of life over."
"Not permanent permanent," she corrected. "Just until your birthday."
Fred seemed less uneasy and more curious now. "Why?"
"Because Dumbledore knows we all brewed aging potions for the NEWTS."
"Honestly, I'm flattered by how intelligent you think I am, but I'm going to need you to explain more," Fred prompted.
Wren opened her mouth to explain right as Professor Sprout called the class to order. Wren shut her mouth turning to the front, listening as the professor began to explain their fertilization experiment for the day. Beside her, she could still feel Fred's eyes intensely on her, and she knew he wouldn't drop the conversation.
"What if whatever Dumbledore does to protect the judge can sense if your age changes faster than it naturally should? If the age potion were to wear off on your birthday, the change of age would seem natural. Right?" Wren whispered.
"You're a bloody genius," Fred murmured back, and Wren shook her head, her cheeks heating up. "A natural inventor."
"I'm not inventing anything. Just using theory to adapt a potion that should otherwise already work," Wren argued lightly.
"In the history books, Wren. You're gonna be in history books."
Wren shook her head and decided to give Professor Sprout her full attention.
...
Despite what Wren might have supposed, Fred had quite a knack for Herbology. Between the two of them, had managed to distract and add new fertilizer to three of the five Poulpeplants in the time it took most students in the class to get just one. Wren changed it up to Fred being both extremely distracting by nature and surprisingly nimble. Although frankly that shouldn't have been much of a surprise what with all of the pranks he pulled around the castle. Still, Wren couldn't help but admire his focus and skill.
"We make a natural team," Fred said with a grin, nudging Wren's shoulder. She rolled her eyes, but the corner of her lips turned up.
"We're just both good at Herbology," Wren dismissed.
Fred heaved a great sigh. "Oh come on, Wren. You want to help us. I can see it in you. You've practically done half of the work already."
Wren shook her head, taking up the defensive stance in front of the plant. Fred stood behind the plant, his eyes fixated on her as if he were proficient at Occlumency. Maybe it was the fear that he was that drove her to finally say, "Oh, alright, then."
A bright look of triumph flashed across Fred's face as he beamed. "Excellent. We'll negotiate the details later, but right now, you might want to hold your nose."
Wren's brow furrowed. "What?"
And then she smelled it. A putrid smell clawed up Wren's throat, choking her and turning her stomach. Quickly she backed away from the plant, flinging an arm over her nose as Fred's hand shot up. "Professor! Is the fertilizer supposed to smell like this?" his voice came out nasally due to his nose being pinched between his two fingers. Professor Sprout hurried towards them as Fred cast Wren a wink.
With a sinking feeling in her stomach, she looked under the table. A dung bomb.
"Everyone out of the greenhouse," Professor Sprout ordered, as the students made for the door, coughing and gagging. It took all of four minutes for the class to fully escape into the fresh air, fanning out on the lawn. Wren pulled in lungful after lungful of the crisp air, but the memory of the smell seemed set on her clothes.
Beside her, Fred was receiving an excellent telling off from Professor Sprout, ending with him earning himself a detention fertilizing all of the greenhouses for a week. He looked appropriately remorseful throughout the ordeal, but as Professor Sprout turned and headed towards the greenhouse to clear it out, he cast a look out of the corner of his eye to Wren.
He was a genius. A mad genius. But a genius all the same.
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bunny-bopper · 4 years
Text
The Headmaster of Hogwarts
This had to be it. It had to be the last time. Severus had never been under any illusion that this was going to be easy. He had been preparing for something like this for most of his adult life. But perhaps he had over-estimated just how difficult it would be to be so completely alone.
The first order of business had been to re-decorate the Headmaster's office. Anything even remotely associated with Albus Dumbledore had been stripped away. The whizzing, golden instruments, Fawkes' abandoned perch, every book penned by a muggle-born author, even his stash of knitting patterns – all thrown unceremoniously into a great pile in the courtyard to be consumed by Fiendfyre. Severus had almost gotten used to it now. He barely notices the tapestry depicting beast-like muggles writhing in agony before submitting to their rightful place beneath those pure of blood.
Part of him had even grown numb to the suffering of the students. He did what he could to keep them safe. Denied all knowledge of a place in the castle an ever-increasing number of them could escape to. Told himself over and over the Cruicatus curse was just pain. They could endure. They had to. If hating him made it even the slightest bit easier, then he welcomed it.
He had been surprised when so many of his old colleagues remained behind. Albus had assured him they would out of concern for the students, but Severus had had his doubts. Although they tried to hide it from him, their understandable detestation was obvious. Of course, it was expected. He had prepared for it but-
Severus was brought out of his thoughts as the office alerted him to the fact that someone had said the password – ‘Salazar’s will’ – and was making their way up the staircase. She was here. 
“You called for me, Headmaster?” She had never been one for sarcasm, but Minerva managed to make Severus’ title ooze with it every time she addressed him. And every time he silently congratulated her.
“Yes,” he replied, letting Alecto’s latest report fall back onto the desk. “Thank you for arriving so very promptly, Minerva.” He added with irony.
She placed her hands on her hips and stared at him coldly. “While I assure you that answering your summons is of the highest importance to me, I’m afraid I was delayed by the need to escort a young first year to the hospital wing.”
“How very noble of you. And what, may I ask, was the cause of their injury?”
"The same as every other time!" My goodness, she was livid today. "One of the staff members that you, in your infinite wisdom, saw fit to disgrace this school by employing!"
Severus smiled up at her. “Ah, I’m sure you are aware, Minerva, that it is our great Dark Lord who has the final say over who is employed at Hogwarts. I know you would never intentionally insult him so I will let that comment slide. This time.”
Minerva’s upper lip curled up revulsion, but she wisely remained silent.
"But I'm afraid you misunderstood my question. When I asked what the cause of their injury was I didn't mean how it was obtained – I have that information right here," he indicated to the report in front of him, "I meant what was it the student did to incur such a punishment?"
“Do you honestly think that a child could have done anything that would warrant-” She cut herself off at Severus’ dark look of warning. She looked down, perhaps not trusting herself to not say something out of turn if she carried on meeting his gaze. “They were unable to list all the ingredients required to produce the Draught of Delirium. They were told that since they had been given the ‘privileged’ enough to have their ‘filthy blood’ overlooked and been allowed to enter the school, they should have at least read ahead on the subject.”
Severus sighed. “Well, it is rather frustrating when students don’t do their summer reading isn’t it?”
This was the part Severus could never stand. When the anger behind her eyes transformed into a profound and hopeless sadness. When she looked at him with something that resembled pity. “What happened to you, Severus?”
“What happened to me is that I worked my way up from the bottom to earn my rightful place as Headmaster of this great school and-”
“You disgust me.”
Her words made Severus halt mid-sentence. No matter how many times he heard them they always made his stomach lurch. He waited for the tirade to follow; she had nothing left to lose now.
“How can you sit there in his place? How can you act as though this is something rightfully yours after what you did? He trusted you and you betrayed him! The greatest wizard of our time! Our FRIEND!” Abandoning her act of obedience, she thrust an accusatory finger towards him. Her voice shook and tears of anger ran down her face. “I have known you since you were a child. How could you-”
“I’m sorry.”
Minera blinked. If the moment hadn’t been so charged with emotion, Severus would have found it comical. “You’re WHAT?!”
“I’m sorry, Minerva,” he choked. “I’m sorry we never told you…”
And then it all came flooding out of him. As soon as he allowed himself to speak about it, he couldn't stop. He told Minera everything. Poured his heart out to his last remaining friend. He told her about his terrible mistake all those years ago, that night on the hilltop, his promise to Albus, and most of their plan. He left out the awful truth - that Harry Potter had to die for Voldemort to fall. He would spare her that pain.
He watched as her face, haggard from the months of tremendous stress, change from disbelief to wariness, to overwhelmed joy that, perhaps, a shred of hope remained. She said nothing, just walked around the desk and wrapped her thin arms around him, cradling his face against her own tear-stained cheek. She felt like his mother used to, a long time ago. And, in truth, she had been more of a mother to him than his actual one ever had. He clung on to her for a long time, letting her warmth, and her love, fortify him.
“I’m sorry,” he whispers again.
“My dear, wonderful boy! You have nothing to be sorry for!” She exclaimed, pulling away from him ever so slightly and looking him in the eyes.
Severus smiled and clasped her hand within his own. “No no, I mean I’m sorry for what I’m about to do.”
Her look of confusion was replaced by one of fear as Severus pointed her wand at her with his free hand. He’s still smiling at her while he casts the spell.
“Obliviate.” 
***
 Minera blinked twice before looking about her to regain her bearings. She was in the Headmaster’s office, but it looked different. Darker. She turned, expecting to see Albus in front of her but instead saw Snape sitting in the high-backed chair behind his desk. It all came flooding back to her in an instant. And so too did the feelings associated with the man in front of her – fear, disgust, but most of all hatred. One so powerful it burned all the way down to her bones.
"Thank you, Minerva. That will be all."
She turned and left before she said something she would regret to the person who called himself Headmaster of Hogwarts.
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pulaasul · 3 years
Text
Ode to the Departed
An Ode to the Characters who died in the Harry Potter series of books.
FFN I AO3
--------
Ode to the Departed.
Colin Creevey
Colin Creevey was a young wizard, Who trained at Hogwarts. He was an excited fellow, Exuberance you cannot mellow. Magic brought him joy, Even more than a toy. When his home away from home was attacked, He left the comforts of his family and came back. He took the risks that returning entailed, It didn't matter if he failed. As long as his training was repaid. Even if he became pale. His debt to his hero was paid.
Cedric Diggory
Cedric Diggory was a Hufflepuff, The glory he sought was rough. It wasn't for self-satisfaction, Rather, it was for his faction. To dispel the nasty names that took root, As loyalty was his boot. The glory he sought was in his hands, But a traitorous rat had other plans. To Dumbledore's army that didn't matter He was an inspiration for others, His path may have strayed to the Dark Lord's But as a Hufflepuff, he never left Harry alone.
Fred Weasley
Prankster, Jokster, Charming are some things to describe, This particular bloke, those who knew him subscribe. Fred Weasley was one of a kind, Even if he did things with his twin by his side. His last action however wasn't with his twin, But with his estranged brother, they took a win, The price of victory however Would take root forever A set of twins was subtracted by one But his smiles were always fond.
Severus Snape
Spite and Bitterness were the things that pushed him to join the Dark Lord, One declaration later, he had to cut the cord. Severus Snape was Dumbledore's spy, In a wizarding world that's full of lies. To protect he had to sneer, While doing his side job without fear, It did help that the one he protected, Was the son of a man he hated. Even if he was also the son of the woman he loved. In the end it didn't matter, For the boy would soon after, Win the war with his sacrifice, And survive the curse twice.
Remus Lupin
Remus Lupin was afraid of many things. The full moon, family and friends. He feared that all his relationships would end. If people knew of his affliction, He knew they would leave without condition. Some of his fears were unfounded, As he found himself supported, By friends dearly beloved, And a wife that loved him dearly. He left behind a son, A son who would understand That they fought to protect his future And time would be his suture. Lupin's fears stem From Things out of his control He soon found that they were unfounded And found himself beloved.
Hedwig
A loyal companion to the very end, Who's job was to deliver mail She went beyond the call of duty And protected her owner, truly She was born to soar and deliver And died as a protector.
Albus Dumbledore
Wisdom in spades Intentions in shades. Greater good was his mantra It was one of his centra. Albus Dumbledore was a Headmaster Also the Elder Wand's master He acted as a mentor and confidant, This gained him a lot of covenants. He founded the Order of the Phoenix, To combat the ever changing helix. The Dark Lord has introduced, Philosophies he induced, That lead to a war that reduced. In the end, Dumbledore's intentions were pure, That, all of us are sure Questionable, his actions maybe, It couldn't be denied that he wanted this war to cease and for everyone to live in peace.
Nymphadora Tonks
Cheery, clumsy, snarky and a bit zany That's what Nymphadora Tonks was to many Sweet, Loving and Caring, She was to Remus Lupin after marrying. She hated her given name with a passion, She'd hex even in the middle of action, If you're caught referring to her name You'd best apologize before you go in flames. She left behind a son, Who, no doubt, she'd love, She fought for his future, So he may prosper, Without a Dark Lord looming over. Tonks fought for love and peace, Something the Dark Lord doesn't have a piece, It didn't matter that she and Lupin left him, Because she knew others will love him for them.
Sirius Black
Sirius Black was always Sirius. As a Maruder, he was always not serious. Easy going, and a joker. That's what he and the marauders were after. Everything changed when his best friends were killed, A treacherous rat forced him a cell to fill. A simple explosion seemed to fit the bill. Transfiguring himself to escape, The dementor-filled hellscape. Once escaped however He took a vow forever, Be there for his godson Like how his best friend's parents treated him as a son. He once had other plans, To fillet the rat in a pan If not for his godson's nobility He'd have truly been a murderer in reality.
Ted Tonks
Ted Tonks was Eden's apple, To a family of pure-blooded people. He was a good father and husband, Even when his wife's family acted like a baboon band. And agreed with the unfortunate name of his daughter. As he was on the run, Due to the propaganda, Introduced by Voldemort. He protected a child, From the Dark Lord. A muggle-born he may be, A decent man is all you can see. Loving as a family man Hero to everyone.
Regulus Black
A boy strayed by family and prejudice, Following the family's tradition and malice. Served dutifully as the Dark Lord's vassal, Until something happened that he cancelled. Discovered how atrocious the Dark Lord at the crux, The making of the darkest artifact – a horcrux. He recovered the artifact, replaced it as a matter of fact, Rebelling against the Voldemort He didn't even end up in a morgue. Killed for his defiance, But gave everyone a chance.
Dobby.
A house elf who only wanted to protect Harry Potter from a threat that was erected He offered protection in the most roundabout way, Aiming to steal, injure and maim just to get his way. While the life threatening situations were unwarranted, The intention of those actions were appreciated. It got him freed from his master, Making him a free house elf, offering help faster. As his own master, he aided his friend Which ultimately got him to his end To escape captivity From Voldemort's activity.
Amelia Bones.
Fair, Just and Uncompromising This Department head was promising Law Enforcement was her game Bribery and Trickery was her bane. Amelia Bones was an amazing Department Head. She's what Dark Witches and Wizards dread. One of the many reasons why she was among the first To be killed in the Dark Lord's Immortality thirst. Murdered, she may be Among the first casualties we see But she was among who the Dark Lord feared The threat she posed would put a stop to all his dreams, he supposed. Hence she was opposed and killed in her home.
Dennis Creevey
Excitement and Joy You'd think he received a toy. His first bout of adventure Was meeting a deep water creature That was even before he was sorted To brave Gryffindors where his brother was first posted. Dennis Creevey was a lot like his brother Excited with magic all over Not all is what it seems however As magic also dimmed his life forever He sneaked into the battle Despite the teachers' prattle He fought alongside his brother Protected some others When he saw his brother's corpse lay Was when the floor gave way Fallen to pits unknown His body nowhere known.
Alastor Moody
Stared at the darkness more than once or twice Paranoia has become his vice. "Constant Vigilance" was his motto, It saved his life and others thereto. He died during the battle of the seven Potters, Escorting someone polyjuiced as Harry Potter, Despite the boy's utter disapproval of the plan. Mad-Eye, he was known to everyone who knew him Without him, the world would have been a lot more dim. There was a time his motto worked to his detriment When the Dark Lord ordered one to impersonate him His imposter copied him to great effect Even jumpstarted the Dark Lord's return, unchecked. By making sure Harry Potter's name was ejected, From the Goblet of Fire – An ancient object.
Others
Casualties were many during the wars Many of whom were innocent by far. No idea of the war they were involved in Ignorant of the ideals against them. Some died as heroes who protected, The people who were neglected. Muggles who gained the Dark Lord's ire Ignited the heroes' protective fire. Fighting what they think was right In protection of others, with might. Others who had a greater sense of self-preservation, Something that Gryffindors need to be taught with vocation Died on the run, hoping to outrun the Death Eaters Even if the circumstances were worse than any eaters. Others died after defecting Hoping to escape the inevitable ejecting. Alas they failed But their sacrifices has derailed The Dark Lord's plan from fruition Even if they were without recognition. And others may view it as dying in cowardice Worse than dying with avarice. I will say this in explicit No one really wins in wars Both sides lose so far Both sides suffer casualties Both sides suffer injuries This is for the Departed For all factions that interacted Voldemort's, Grindelwald's, Dumbledore's Hoping that future generations learn From mistakes we earned. For the departed May your lessons that have imparted Would bring us to a bright and hopeful future And in time heal our sutures.
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