#i do draw others besides albus

[missgryffin]

lying in wait

Randomly listened to some Hamilton over the weekend, ended up with "Wait For It" stuck in my head, and wrote this in a couple hours today. I think it's angst, but with a nice dash of crack? Idk 😅 But I hope it makes you smile! 🫶 below + AO3

November 3, 1981

The cottage is silent, save for the ticking of the old grandfather clock in the hall, and it’s already pitch dark, with only the faint glow of street lamps and budding moonlight shining in through rain-slicked windows. 

Lily draws up her knees to her chest where she sits on the sofa, peering mindlessly into blurry windowpane. She doesn’t remember the last time she walked aimlessly down a road, or went into a shop. Sometimes, on stormy autumn nights like this, she wonders if she ever will again. 

Footsteps tumble down the stairs, then come to an abrupt halt. 

“Lil?” She can see his shadowed outline, one hand in his hair. “You just…sitting in the dark?”

She shrugs, though he probably can’t see, and asks, “Harry went down alright, then?” 

James chuckles to himself as he crosses the room, picking his way around the furniture until he drops onto the sofa next to her. “After reading every book twice and playing the Snitch game for thirty minutes…yes.” He leans closer, grinning. “Our son is asleep.” 

She rests a hand on his scruffy cheek. “It’s only supposed to be ten minutes of the Snitch game,” she teases him. 

“I know,” James sighs. “But he asked for ten more.” 

Lily snorts. “What, and then ten more after that?” 

He throws his hands weakly in his lap. “Wha—am I supposed to say no to the kid? He looks just like me!” 

She falls into him, a laughing heap, and for a moment, they simply giggle deliriously together. It’s nice. It’s normal. Or at least a sliver of it.

James cuddles her into him, and Lily breaths him in. They’ve lost so many over the few years since Hogwarts, but they still have each other. She clings on to that, to him.

“I love you,” she says into his chest. 

He kisses the top of her head. “I love you, too.”

A stretching silence; a heavy sigh. “It’s his birthday.” 

“I know,” James murmurs. “I can’t stop thinking about him.” 

Lily peels herself off his chest and swings a leg over his lap, sitting with her arms looped around his neck. How many conversations have they had over the years while sitting just like this? How many more will they get? 

“He said he’d be in touch by today.” Her mind won’t stop racing. “What if this was a bad id—” 

“It wasn’t,” James cuts her off. “Besides.” A heavy sigh. “It was…our only idea.”

“Do you think…” She pauses, plays with his hair. “Do you think we…did the right thing?” 

He sits up straighter, pulling her closer against him. “You’re the only two people in my life I know I can trust completely,” he says. “So yeah, I think we did.” 

There’s no use rehashing it again; they’ve done that enough. Yes, he now has a target on his back, but it’s not like he wasn’t already a target before. No, it couldn’t have been anyone else—not Albus, who knows more than he’s saying; not Remus, whom Albus and Sirius both suspect; and not Peter, who’s been looking exhausted and strung-out from the night-shift reconnaissance he’s been assigned. Yes, he had to leave. And no, it wasn’t cowardly to do so.

Granted, that last bit had taken a not insignificant amount of convincing (damned Gryffindor), but he eventually came around to their idea. Staying around in England with Voldemort sure to be onto him was certain death. But why not take advantage of being top of Voldemort’s mind? Why make it easy, when instead he could make it hard? Give the Order a leg up? Let them use him (or rather, the idea of him) as bait to lure and manipulate all the Death Eaters looking for him, and maybe even root out the spy in the process? And really, if anyone was going to lead Voldemort on a wild goose chase, setting traps and lying in wait, who better than Sirius Black?

Still, she worries. She can’t help it. And she knows James worries too, even if he does do a better job of hiding it. 

There’s only one thing left to do, really; only one way to pass the time sufficiently distracted from racing thoughts. James must read her mind, because he’s all eager hands and excited tongue when she kisses him. Maybe it’s unhealthy, how much they’ve used sex to cope the past year. But when his mouth feels like this and hair’s in her hands…she’s not sure she cares.

“Prongs!”

They jump, springing apart like they’re fifth years caught after curfew. James swears under his breath as they fumble to right the clothes they’d started shoving aside before he reaches for the small mirror sitting on the coffee table.

“Padfoot!” 

Lily frantically feels around the sofa for her wand. 

“Why’s it so dar—oh, don’t tell me you were just—”

“We were waiting for you,” James covers. 

“Mate. That’s worse. Just say you were shagging.” 

“Well, we weren’t yet.”

“Hi, Sirius.” She brandishes her now-glowing wand, recovered from the seam between the cushions. 

“Lily! Looking rumpled as ever!” 

She yanks her cardigan back up her shoulder as she scolds, “Shut it.”

“I miss you, too.” 

They can only see Sirius’s chin in frame, and it seems like he’s moving around. 

“Happy birthday, man,” James says.

“Thanks.” 

“Where are you?” 

“Hang on—I have to show you—ready?” 

“Yeah?” 

His face comes into view and Lily instantly gasps. 

Sirius grins. “Like it?” 

His once shoulder-length hair’s been chopped off stylishly short in a fresh cut that makes him look like old Hollywood charm in that loose button-down he has on. 

“Damn, Pads!” 

“I…barely recognize you,” Lily stammers. 

“Well.” He adjusts the mirror closer to his face. “That’s sorta the point.” 

A heavy pit settles in her stomach. 

“How you been?” James asks. “Travel go okay?” 

“Yeah, fine.” Sirius shrugs. “I’ve been doing things the Muggle way—that Muggle Studies N.E.W.T.’s finally paying off, who woulda thought.”

“Where are you now?”

The mirror turns around, panning over an ocean-side city lit up with lights through a set of patio doors. “Cannes,” he says, and Lily hears the grin in his voice. The mirror turns back to his face. “I have access to money here, dad’s side of the family, in the French bank. And I figure…” He flops back atop a hotel bed, one hand beneath his head. “If Voldemort wants to come get me, he’ll just have to bring his snakey arse down to the beach, won’t he?”

They all bust up into snorting, wheezing laughter. It’s not normal; none of it’s normal. But laughing with her husband and their best friend like this is the closest to normal she’s felt in a long time, and she thinks, if this is how life has to be for awhile, she can live with it.

#missgryffin writes #jily #jple #james x lily #jily fanfiction #alternate ending #not really sure what this is it just happened #everyone lives au #justice for sirius black #getting the adventure story he deserves

[meear]

The state of siblings in HP&the Deathly Hallows

Deathly Hallows is the book that shines a (new) light on every sibling in the story.

This is where we see Lily and Petunia's childhood, we learn about Aberforth and Albus' story, we read about Regulus' death, Percy's return (and even, to some extent, Harry and Dudley's goodbye, though of course they were never raised as siblings nor did they ever consider each other as such, but they did grow up under the same roof). This is the book where Ron finally confronts his insecurities, by destroying the locket who was throwing all of his family issues back into his face.

We finally meet Andromeda, the last Black sister, and we have Bellatrix mention her ("We—Narcissa and I—have never set eyes on our sister since she married the Mudblood"). In HP7, Molly even tells Harry that Fabian was her brother, which is something the reader never knew

I often see people drawing parallels between Sirius&Regulus and Lily&Petunia, both of these pairs being estranged siblings, but... They really don't have that much in common.

I've never seen anyone commenting on the Blacks' similarities to the Weasleys (by which I mean Percy) and the Dumbledores, when these three families have SO much more to offer. I think about them so often you do not understand. I don't even know where to begin. I've ended up putting a bunch of dialogue from the book, so it's a bit lengthy, but long story short:

Albus, Aberforth, Sirius, Regulus and Percy make me feel insane

Percy and Albus, two brillant, ambitious and arrogant young men, who felt trapped, who thought they were destined for more than the condition their family had condemned them to, who were desperate to leave their home and get their chance to shine despite their father's awful reputation, even by supporting corrupt ideals. Read what Dumbledore tells Harry at the end of HP7, and tell me it couldn't have come out straight of Percy's mouth:

"I resented it, Harry. I was gifted, I was brilliant. I wanted to escape. I wanted to shine. I wanted glory [...] So that, when my mother died, and I was left the responsibility of a damaged sister and a wayward brother, I returned to my village in anger and bitterness. Trapped and wasted, I thought!"

"[Percy] said he’s been having to struggle against Dad’s lousy reputation ever since he joined the Ministry and that Dad’s got no ambition and that’s why we’ve always been — you know — not had a lot of money"

Mind you, there's a bit of Sirius in it too, Sirius who also left. We learn about Percy and Sirius at around the same time (the beginning of Ootp, chapters 4 and 6) and I don't think it's a coincidence (edit: forgot to mention it but there's even a chapter named "Percy and Padfoot" in that book). Here's what Ron says:

"And if Mum and Dad were going to become traitors to the Ministry [Percy] was going to make sure everyone knew he didn’t belong to our family anymore. And he packed his bags the same night and left."

" 'You ran away from home?' 'When I was about sixteen,' said Sirius. 'I’d had enough.' "

"As far as I’m concerned, they’re not my family. She’s certainly not my family. [...] D’you think I’m proud of having relatives like her?”

Fred and George were angry at their older brother for putting his ambitions above his family and morals (I'm Percy's #1 fan and defender btw), and Aberforth was furious with Albus for the same reason. Again, this reads like something that Ron could've said about Percy, the pompous little snob (i love him):

Sirius and Percy are also not present on the family pictures:

"A photograph of the Weasley family stood beside the in-tray. Harry noticed that Percy appeared to have walked out of it."

" “I used to be there,” said Sirius, pointing at a small, round, charred hole in the tapestry, rather like a cigarette burn."

"Not Albus, he was always up in his bedroom when he was home, reading his books and counting his prizes, keeping up with his correspondence with ‘the most notable magical names of the day’ "

It's just that Percy and Albus betrayed their family by supporting wrong causes and Sirius betrayed his family by supporting the right one. but Regulus' support was an act of loyalty to his family. Aberforth and Kreacher tell Harry about Albus and Regulus' former goals:

"Didn’t I understand, my poor sister wouldn’t have to be hidden once they’d changed the world, and led the wizards out of hiding, and taught the Muggles their place?"

"For years [Master Regulus] talked of the Dark Lord, who was going to bring the wizards out of hiding to rule the Muggles and the Muggle-borns...."

I know I've been comparing Albus to Sirius, both of them being the oldest brother, but really Albus' ideological progression and death most resemble Regulus'. (both Black brothers share traits with both Dumbledores really). though of course, Harry didn't let Ron and Hermione make excuses for Dumbledore just because he was young:

" 'it’s an awful thought that Dumbledore’s ideas helped Grindelwald rise to power. But on the other hand, even Rita can’t pretend that they knew each other for more than a few months one summer when they were both really young, and— '

'I thought you’d say that,' said Harry."

" 'Dumbledore being pals with Grindelwald, but now it’s just something to laugh about for people who didn’t like Dumbledore, and a bit of a slap in the face for everyone who though he was such a good bloke. I don’t know that it’s such a big deal, though. He was really young when they— '

'Our age,' said Harry"

" 'He was a Death Eater,' said Harry. 'Sirius told me about him, he joined up when he was really young and then got cold feet and tried to leave' "

(i would like it on record that the exact expression "really young" is found thrice in HP7, two of them being about Albus, the last one about Regulus. i'm so incredibly normal about this)

"and when he was sixteen years old, Master Regulus joined the Dark Lord"

"[Dumbledore] changed, Harry, he changed! It’s as simple as that! Maybe he did believe those things when he was seventeen"

"I know what you’re going to say, she went on as Harry began to protest, that Regulus changed his mind . . ."

Albus and Regulus were two misguided brothers who both drank the drink of despair in the Inferi cave before dying, the only two wizards to have done so. Not only that, both of them had actually planned their own death; though it was a secret only known by the one who had assisted them (the chapters revealing the truth about Regulus and Albus are literally called "Kreacher's tale" and "the Prince's tale", like they're referencing each other, I'm in my incredibly delusional era right now). They started something (the same thing, in fact) they could not see through to the end, and "faced death in the hope" someone else would finish it:

"We want to finish the work Master Regulus started, we want to—er—ensure that he didn’t die in vain"

"he left me a job [...] Your brother knew how to finish You-Know-Who and he passed the knowledge on to me"

Both Sirius and Aberforth hated their brother's choices, but actually (as Harry told Aberforth) neither of them fully understood their brother's last moments. and because they didn't have that knowledge, neither of them ever gained a complete understanding of their brother:

"And Albus was free, wasn’t he? Free of the burden of his sister, free to become the greatest wizard of the— '

'He was never free,' said Harry."

"From what I found out after he died, he got in so far, then panicked about what he was being asked to do and tried to back out."

"And he drank— all the potion— and Kreacher swapped the lockets"

"The night that your brother died, he drank a potion that drove him out of his mind."

"He thought he was watching Grindelwald hurting you and Ariana... It was torture to him, if you’d seen him then, you wouldn’t say he was free."

"Kreacher and Regulus’s family were all safest if they kept to the old pure-blood line. Regulus was trying to protect them all."

You know who ELSE "was never free" though??

I ask, but you already know.

" 'I don’t like being back here,” [Sirius] said, staring across the drawing room. 'I never thought I’d be stuck in this house again.' "

"I returned to my village in anger and bitterness. Trapped and wasted, I thought!"

Albus was never free. Sirius was never free either.

But wait! there's more!

"But Harry, his mother had just died, he was stuck alone in the house— '

'Alone? He wasn’t alone! He had his brother and sister for company, his Squib sister he was keeping locked up— ' "

Of course, knowing this about Albus Dumbledore, this scene at the end of OotP might hit a bit different:

“ 'I was trying to keep Sirius alive,' said Dumbledore quietly.

'People don’t like being locked up!' Harry said furiously, rounding on him. 'You did it to me all last summer —'

Dumbledore closed his eyes and buried his face in his long-fingered hands. "

Now do I think there's a link between Albus&Sirius being stuck in the house and Dumbledore keeping his sister locked up to protect her life and keeping Sirius locked up to protect his life... maybe it wasn't intentional, or maybe it was; either way, it's very juicy to think about, and Dumbledore's reaction after what Harry says? if there's even the slightest possibility he might have been thinking about Ariana...I'm EATING this up.

Let us not forget about Percy Weasley though. In the end, both Percy and Albus came to their senses, though not without losing a younger sibling, Fred and Ariana. Is it possible that Albus saw a bit of himself in Percy at the time? Maybe, maybe not, but he did try to comfort Molly about Percy:

" 'Dumbledore says people find it far easier to forgive others for being wrong than being right,' said Hermione. 'I heard him telling your mum, Ron.' "

"Reality returned in the form of my rough, unlettered, and infinitely more admirable brother. I did not want to hear the truths he shouted at me."

So yeah, they made wrong choices, but again, that doesn't mean they can't change:

" 'I was an idiot, I was a pompous prat, I was a— a— '

'Ministry-loving, family-disowning, power-hungry moron, said Fred. "

"Stupid idiot . . . he joined the Death Eaters."

" 'Don’t worry about Percy,' said Sirius abruptly. 'He’ll come round.' "

Remember the previous comparison between Albus and Percy, about both of them being the stuck-up pretentious brother?

"It was a porapous little sign, neatly lettered by hand - the sort of thing that Percy Weasley might have stuck on his bedroom door: Do Not Enter Without the Express Permission of Regulus Arcturus Black"

I think about this description a normal amount, the exact amount of thought warranted for such a short, inconsequential description, in fact

Another thing Deathly Hallows did was challenging our perception of Sirius and Albus (granted, mostly Albus) by developing a younger brother who, against all odds, might have been more admirable than them in certain aspects. when Regulus and Aberforth are first mentioned, one is a cowardly Death Eater and the other is implied to be a goat-fucker. alright. and yet, if you only read the last book, you end up having a more positive impression of Aberforth and Regulus than of their older brothers, to the point where Albus and Sirius even get compared to Voldemort. Interestingly, I feel like Albus makes an indirect reference to Kreacher here:

"That which Voldemort does not value, he takes no trouble to comprehend. Of house-elves and children’s tales, of love, loyalty, and innocence, Voldemort knows and understands nothing."

of course Regulus was not brought up in his last conversation with Harry, but there really isn't anyone else this comment could refer to, and it does echo "Kreacher's tale" nicely:

"Of course, Voldemort would have considered the ways of house-elves far beneath his notice . . . It would never have occurred to him that they might have magic that he didn’t."

"I’ve said all along that wizards would pay for how they treat house-elves. Well, Voldemort did . . . and so did Sirius."

"Sirius was horrible to Kreacher, Harry, and it’s no good looking like that, you know it’s true"

"He’s loyal to people who are kind to him, and Mrs. Black must have been, and Regulus certainly was"

"my rough, unlettered, and infinitely more admirable brother"

"Was I better, ultimately, than Voldemort?"

"Master Regulus always liked Kreacher."

"The barman face was impassive. After a few moments he said,

'I’m sorry to hear it, I liked that elf.' "

Sirius and Albus really wanted to distance themselves from the reminders of their home, and as a result, they weren't always decent people. Of course I don't believe for a second Sirius and Albus were actually as bad as Riddle. they both did fucked up things, so did Regulus who joined the Death Eaters and Aberforth who suggested using Slytherin students as hostages (tf), so I'm not saying one amongst these four is obviously better than the others, but. this reversal is still really interesting.

The fact that Aberforth was helping Harry through Sirius' mirror. The fact that one of Albus' names is Percival. Hell, let's reach even further, Albus meaning "white" and Sirius&Regulus' last name being "black".

Like I'm sorry, but to me this is cinema.

#harry potter #albus dumbledore #aberforth dumbledore #deathly hallows #regulus black #sirius black #percy weasley #the weasleys #hp #hp meta #black brothers

[swallow-the-bird]

Know what always bothers me in crimes of Grindelwald? That in every scene where Albus sees him he's not smiling. The memory of making the bloodpact? He looks evillll like he's manipulated an idiot into doing what he wanted- and in the mirror of erised he again is so serious it's like he's judging him-

They should've made him smile in those scenes- it's painfully obvious that's what he was meant to do. The memory is from when they loved each other; the mirror shows your biggest desire trying to trap you.

He 👏 should 👏 have 👏 smiled 👏

If you ever get out of ideas for what to draw i think it'd be a cute idea to have those redrawn-

Thanks for your brilliant idea❤️I agree with you—Or, to put it another way, how could they possibly not be in love? And when someone in love gazes at their beloved, how could they not be moved?

I’ve never believed that Gellert’s feelings for Albus were purely manipulative or exploitative. Albus, as blinded by love as he might be, wouldn’t be deceived by insincerity. It’s precisely because Gellert’s love was genuine—though tainted by ambition and a desire for control—that they resonated and melded at the soul level, allowing Albus to open up to him and give his all.

This is also why the tragic events of the summer of 1899 have such a devastating effect on Albus. Besides the remorse and guilt he felt for Ariana, it also stemmed from the genuine love he shared with Gellert. The blade of love is sharp and particularly lethal because of this genuine affection.

Love is real, manipulation is real, and hurt is real. Love has its tender and sincere side, but it also has a harsh and cruel aspect.

“Oh, to be young and to feel love’s keen sting,” Albus remarked many years later. The blade of love is indeed forged by love itself.

So yes, the movie’s portrayal of Gellert’s expression in the Mirror of Erised might not convey this depth of emotion, which I personally find regrettable.

But looking at it from another perspective, doesn’t the Mirror of Erised reflect Albus’s deepest desires?

His longing for Gellert never ceases, nor can he truly let go of everything Gellert once represented—dreams, ambition, and lost youth. But has he ever secretly hoped that Gellert never truly loved him? Like he’s desperately convincing himself that Gellert only ever used and manipulated him, and that he’s an extremely cold person incapable of love. This way, Albus can hate him unreservedly, without the torment of being torn between love, regret, and conscience.

Hating a despicable enemy is always easier than confronting a lover and confidant.

“There are all kinds of courage," as Albus said it many years later, "It takes a great deal of bravery to stand up to our enemies, but just as much to stand up to our friends.”

Perhaps this desperate wish is why a version of Gellert, different from reality and memories, appears in the mirror.

But I believe, throughout his long life and even after death, Albus ultimately chooses not to deny this love. It manifests as the tear that drops onto the tip of his nose at King’s Cross station—a tear shed for the man who defended his grave with his life.

Of course, this is all my subjective interpretation. Oh, so many conflicting thoughts and feelings aroused by this ship—!😭

#albus x gellert #dumbledore x grindelwald #grindeldore #gellert grindelwald #albus dumbledore #harry potter #this is love and what love can be

[unorthodoxx-page]

Something silly #3

This might be the last one for a second.  This one really got the juices flowing for a Tale of Spirits.  Also, I might come back to this, so we shall see.  Human au!

Donnie

When the woman and old wizard first knock on their door, Donnie immediately thinks they’re here for Draxum.  It’s not exactly a secret that Draxum was a Death Eater of the highest order.  One doesn’t get a nickname like ‘The Baron’ without doing some downright sinister stuff for the other side.  Leo still thinks Draxum is working for Voldemort, but that’s just out of spite at this point.  Draxum has proved to them that he can be trusted, but his Dark Mark still sets dad’s teeth on edge.  Anyway, they’ve been harboring a major fugitive for the last two years, so it’s not exactly a surprise that the authorities are finally here for the man.  It’s just….Donnie was expecting something different.  More red robes and stinging spells.  Not an obvious teacher and ancient wizard.

Donnie leans against the door and takes them in with a critical eye.  They don’t look like police, but you can never tell with the crazy outfits coming out of Great Britain nowadays.  It’s a miracle they haven’t broken their own statute of secrecy yet.  The man’s standing in a full-length gown for pete's sake.  Donnie lets his fingers skim the wood of the door and feels the magic of the house breath around him.  “How’d you get past the wards?”

The woman raises an eyebrow but the man chuckles.  “Are you responsible for this clever bit of magic?”

Donnie snorts.  “That doesn’t answer my question.”

“Right,” the man smiles, “I am here to speak with your father.  Is he around by chance?”

Donnie narrows his eyes.  If dad was expecting them then that might explain it.  Donnie lets out a huff, “Dad!” he shouts, “If you’re going to add people to the list you gotta let me know!”  Donnie doesn’t wait for an answer, he snaps his fingers and a clipboard materializes in his hands.

“Wandless?”

Donnie does look up at the women's incredulous tone or the man’s delighted laugh.  He scans the list and feels his shoulders draw up.  There aren’t any new names.  Donnie lets his magic spread through the frame of the open door and he readies the spell on his tongue.  “How did you get past-.”

“Albus!”

Donnie turns, magic still in his throat, at dad’s voice.  The man stands there with wide eyes but his posture is relaxed.  “What are you doing here?  You aren’t supposed to be here for another week?”

Donnie holds the magic in place and flips through the papers on the clipboard and stops when the name jumps out to him.  He looks up with a raised eyebrow, “Albus Dumbledore?”

“Yes,” the man answers, “and this lovely woman beside me is Minerva McGonagall.  I assure you, both our names are on your list.”  

“Let them in Purple.”

Donnie sighs, “Please step into our humble abode.”  The last ward around the door opens for the unexpected guests.  He shoots dad a glare as the wizards walk past the threshold.  What’s the point of creating a system if no one follows it?  This is the Casey situation all over again.

“What interesting use of wards!  The house looks completely different on the inside.”

“Thank Doctor Who for that.”

Minerva frowns, “Who?”

Donnie throws his hands up with a groan.  “C’mon!  How do you not know Doctor Who?  He’s Great Britain's greatest contribution to the world!”

She turns to Albus who takes a seat with a laugh.  “I believe it’s a muggle film.”

Donnie rolls his eyes at the term and heads for the stairs.  He doesn’t need to be here for the rest of this.  Plus, he needs to warn Draxum to stay in the basement.  God forbid he comes up for tea and finds two British Wizards sitting in the living room.  A hand on his shoulder stops him, “Not so fast Purple.  Go get your brothers, this concerns all of you.”

Donnie pauses at that.  He looks up at dad, but the man just shakes his head.  Something serious then.  Donnie nods and plants his feet at the base of the stairs, “GUYS!” he shouts, “GET DOWN HERE, DAD HAS SOMETHING TO SAY!  IT’S IMPORTANT.”

Splinter snatches him by the hood of his sweatshirt and picks him up with a scowl, “I said go get them!  Not burst my eardrums!”  

There’s a loud crack and a clatter of plates from the living room and Donnie smirks.  “They’re coming aren’t they?”

Splinter drops his head and shifts to carry the child under hone arm.  Donnie settles into the hold and listens to the pounding of footsteps against the ceiling.  Mikey and Raph should be flinging themselves down the stairs any minute now.  Dad walks back into the living room and Leo’s already sitting on the opposite couch, devouring all the snacks.

“-must say,” Minerva says, “it’s quite dangerous for a child your age to be apparating.  Does MACUSA not regulate such things here?”

Donnie snorts.  He wiggles out of Splinters hold and drops into a lone chair.  Like any of them are following the law around here.

“Don’t worry about it,” Leo says, “I’m a master at apparating.  So, pops, what’s going on?”

“Well,” Splinter stammers, “W-why don’t we wait for your brothers!”  

Albus sets his cup of tea down with a click.  “Yoshi,” the man says, “have you not told them?”

Leo sits up.  “Told us what?”

“Well,” splinter stalls.  He’s fidgeting, smoothing down his hair and adjusting his clothes and Donnie narrows his eyes at the action.  “I thought I would leave it to you guys!  Don’t you do this kind of thing all the time?”

“Not in quite a while, no.”  The woman sniffs.

Donnie shares a look with Leo, but Mikey and Raph are already rounding the corner.  Raph sits on the couch and pulls Mikey up with a grunt.  All eyes turn to Splinter and the man starts to sweat, which isn’t a good sign.  “Alright,” Splinter coughs, “now that everyone is here…Albus has something to say.” 

Dumbledore gets to his feet, robe moving fluidly, before opening his arms wide.  His eyes are twinkling, “How would you boys like to go Hogwarts?”

#Rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #harry potter #rottmnt #harry potter fanfiction #tmnt #crossover #crossover fanfic #fanfic #fanfiction #something silly #tmnt leo #rottmnt leo #tmnt Donnie #rottmnt donnie #tmnt mikey #rottmnt mikey #rottmnt raph #tmnt raph #baron draxum #splinter #lou jitsu #albus dumbledore #minerva mcgonagall #magic #hogwarts

[silentt-angel]

to love and to kill – chapter 1

summary: Draco Malfoy has been tasked with fixing a magical wardrobe and killing Albus Dumbledore. But he isn't the only Slytherin who received a task from The Dark Lord that summer - Magnolia Stellifer has to make sure that Draco doesn’t fail, and if he does, she has to finish what he started... An enemies to lovers retelling of Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince. pairing: draco malfoy x oc

1. A Beginning 

Sunday 1st September 1996

To say that Draco Malfoy was annoyed, would have been an understatement. He had only been at Station 9¾ for a total of seven minutes, and he was already cold, his new shoes were making his feet hurt and he was beginning to regret skipping breakfast that morning – just like his mother had told him he would. As if that wasn’t enough, some snotty first year student was wailing about something loudly right next to him. Had Draco’s mother not been standing beside him, he would have definitely hexed the boy into oblivion by now. Since she was, though, he settled for imagining all the things he could do to the boy with a single spell. His list was getting quite impressive.

There was something that was gnawing at the back of his mind that was annoying him far more than all of this, though – Draco missed his father. 

And he didn’t like it. 

Lucius Malfoy had never been the warmest of people, and certainly not the warmest of fathers. He could be stern and demanding and strict, but he was Draco’s father, and since Draco started Hogwarts six years prior, Lucius had been there every single year to see him off. It felt strange not to have him there. It made Draco feel like things really were changing. 

It also made him feel like a soppy git. 

Draco didn’t think he would care, and going back to Hogwarts was usually accompanied by a buzz of excitement he was certain would drown out any other emotions. This year the feeling was nowhere to be found. Instead, all Draco felt was a strange emotion he couldn’t quite put a name to.

Needless to say, so far, his day was going pretty shit. 

“Are you sure you have everything you need packed, dear?” Draco’s mother asked him, straightening the collar of his cloak. 

Any sign of summer had disappeared completely with the start of September. Everything was already cold and grey. The wind tugged at his mother’s hair angrily, blowing the black and white strands. 

It felt fitting. Having the sun shine over him brightly all summer felt sacrilegious. 

“Yes, mother. You’ve asked me that thrice since we got here.”

“I just want to make sure,” Narcissa said softly, drawing her hands away from him. 

Draco mustered up a weak smile. 

“I need you to be careful.”

“I will,” Draco assured her.

“I mean it,” his mother said. “I won’t lie to you, dear – I’m worried about you. What you are doing is extremely dangerous, so I need you to promise me that you will be careful .”

Draco swallowed thickly. “I promise,” he said. 

He hated having conversations like this with his mother, and they were having an awful lot of them as of late.

“And remember: the only person you can talk to about this in that castle is Severus. He is the only one who you can trust. Understood?”

Draco pursed his lips. He couldn’t remember the last time he had heard his mother use such a harsh tone with him. He didn’t fault her. Her husband was in Azkaban, and now her only son was risking the same fate. 

He wished his mother didn’t know about the task. Wished that he could at least take this burden from her. 

“Understood.” 

Narcissa’s eyes softened again. “I'm going to miss you very much, Draco.”

“I hate to leave you.”

“Don’t worry about me.” She smiled. “I shall manage just fine. I always do. Now,” she smoothed out her dark skirt, “I believe I have just spotted the Stellifers. Let us go and say hello and then you should be on your way.”

Draco felt the stares that followed him as they walked. He was used to people looking at him. He was a Malfoy, after all; everyone knew who he was since he was a tiny baby. This felt very different, though.

Death Eater. 

Scum. 

He’ll be joining Lucius soon.

Bastard should have got much worse.

Hope he rots in Azkaban like his daddy.

Insults were hurled at him in hushed tones.

“Do not listen to them.” His mother pulled him closer, shooting daggers with her eyes at anyone who looked their way. “They will find something new to gossip about soon.”

Draco replied with a low hum. “Unlikely,”  he said. “But I’m not concerning myself with what some mudbloods have to say about us, and you shouldn’t either, mother.”

“It does not bother me when it is me they are talking about,” Narcissa frowned. A faint line appeared between her brows. “But I hate it when they speak about my boy that way. You are right, though. We must not bother ourselves with that type of nonsense. People will always talk.”

To Draco, it sounded like his mother was trying to convince herself just as much as she was trying to convince him.

“It’s fine. I don’t care, really,” he said.

It didn’t feel good, but Draco was slowly getting used to it. He had to. Since his father had been sent to Azkaban, Draco couldn’t cross the street without hearing the words ‘Death Eater’ being spat at him. There was no point denying it or saying anything, really. It’s not like they were entirely wrong, either. 

“Now,” his mother smiled at him, “please try to look a bit less miserable for the next few minutes.”

Draco scoffed but mustered up a neutral expression. 

“Leonidas! Idris! Lovely to see you as always,” his mother greeted the Stellifers politely. “You too, Magnolia.”

Draco shook Mr.Stellifer’s hand and sent Magnolia and her mother a polite nod as they exchanged pleasantries. 

“Doesn’t time just fly? When did your Magnolia grow into such a wonderful young woman?” his mother gushed.

“Isn’t she just precious?” Idris Stellifer cooed, pleased at the compliment, a hint of French in her accent. 

It took a lot of effort for Draco to stifle a laugh.

He had only seen Magnolia once the entire summer, at the annual ball her mother organised. It was probably the longest they had gone without eachothers company their entire lives. Draco considered it one of the major advantages of the Dark Lord’s return. 

She looked the same as her had remembered her, in her brown overcoat. Maybe a bit older. A bit more tanned with a few light freckles decorating her slender nose that hadn’t been there before. Perhaps her hair had grown a bit over the summer too – it fell over her shoulders in long, dark curls. 

Draco felt his mother nudge him gently and realised he hadn’t been listening to the conversation at all. 

“Your Draco has had to mature incredibly these last few months, hasn’t he? Step up and be the man of the family,” he heard Magnolia’s father say. 

“He certainly has.” Narcissa nodded.

Draco hated these types of conversations. Hated how people would always speak about him as if he wasn’t standing right there. 

“These are strange times we are living in,” Leonidas went on. “We need to look out for each other.”

Draco thought that ‘strange times’ was a generous way of putting it. 

“We just wanted to remind you that if you ever need any help, we are always here,” the man added. 

“That’s very kind of you, Leonidas.” 

“It must be so difficult without Lucius.” Idris Stellifer gave them both a sympathetic smile. “I can’t begin to imagine what it’s like,” she said, and turned her gaze to her husband. 

Leonidas smiled at her gently and grasped her hand in his.

Draco couldn’t understand why people said things like that so often. Did they really believe it would make anyone feel better? It made him want to scream. 

His mother gave them a small smile that Draco had come to know very well in the last few months and said, “It is certainly quieter at home.” 

It was quite the opposite, actually.

“I’m really sorry to interrupt,” Magnolia spoke suddenly, “but I think me and Draco ought to go. The train will be leaving soon.”

“Right, of course.” Her mother smiled. "We wouldn’t want you missing it,” she said. “But before you go, let me give you one last big hug.” She pulled her daughter into a tight embrace. 

Draco turned to his own mother. 

“Do not forget to write to me,” she said with a tired kind of smile on her face.

“I won’t,” Draco promised.

“I know.” She kissed his cheek. “Off you go.”

He made sure to look at her for as long as he could before he had to turn away and start walking towards the train – to try and remember every detail of her face. Draco didn’t let the thought form into a sentence in his head, but a tiny part of him was afraid of that being the last time he would see his mother.

He pushed the thought away quickly. He wasn’t going to let it be. 

“Goodbye, mother.” Draco swallowed thickly before turning back to the others. “It was good seeing you, Mr and Mrs Stellifer.”

“Draco, dear,” Magnolia’s mother stopped him. “Would you mind helping Magnolia with her bag?”

“There’s really no need, mother,” Magnolia protested. “I wouldn’t want to trouble Draco.”

“It’s not a problem,” he said, with a smile that he knew made all mothers like him.

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

They walked side by side towards the Hogwarts Express, Draco stealing quick glances at Magnolia’s face. There was a tiredness in her eyes and a frown on her lips that he hadn’t noticed before. He wondered what could have caused it. It was difficult to remember what kinds of problems people who weren’t doing the Dark Lord’s bidding had. 

“You look ravishing today,” he drawled sarcastically, finally breaking the silence.

“Tiring summer,” was all Magnolia said in response. 

“Oh, right. It must be awfully taxing having to attend so many balls and picnics,” Draco said, with pretend sympathy.

“You’d know all about that.”

“Would I?” He smirked. “I don’t recall attending many tea parties this summer.”

She furrowed her dark brows. “What’s your problem, Malfoy?”

He laughed. Given by how quickly he had managed to get her riled up, it seemed he wasn’t the only one in a bad mood. 

It felt good to pick a fight – finally have someone to snap at. 

“Were the balls any fun at least?” he asked.

“Certainly the ones you weren’t at,” Magnolia snapped back. 

Draco would have been at all of them if Voldemort hadn’t been spending his time in Draco’s living room most nights. 

“I’m sure my company was dearly missed.”

She laughed back at him. “I beg to differ.”

“I’m doubtful.” 

“I wouldn’t expect any different, you arrogant twat.”

“Good, you know me well then, and you shouldn’t miss me too much now, either.” Draco grinned at her one last time before letting go of her suitcase, giving it a hard push towards the train tracks and strolling off, “You’ll manage just fine with that, I presume?” he called over his shoulder.

Magnolia stood where he had left her, giving him the middle finger, the two green ribbons in her hair blowing wildly in the wind. 

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

It didn’t take long for Draco to find the compartment his friends were sitting in. 

“About time,” Blaise Zabini said, shaking his hand. “We thought you weren't going to make it.”

“I hoped I wouldn’t.” 

“But you’re here.” Blaise grinned. “And that means you owe me a galleon, Goyle. Don’t think I forgot,” he shouted across the compartment. 

Goyle groaned and started rummaging in his pockets. He slid a few coins over the table to Zabini. 

“Pleasure doing business with you, mate.” 

“I’ll be having a percentage of that,” Draco said. 

Blaise frowned. “We’ll see about that.”

“We were actually just talking about you before you came,” Pansy Parkinson said, changing the subject.

“You were?” Draco raised a brow.

“Just wondering,” Pansy said with a sickly sweet smile, “what Master Malfoy was so busy doing that he couldn’t be asked to reply to a single letter all summer?”

Draco rolled his eyes.

“Some of us didn’t spend our entire summer sunbathing in Italy,” he said. “I’ve had to take on some of my father’s responsibilities. It’s kept me pretty busy.”

He noticed the way Blaise and Pansy looked at each other awkwardly, but chose to ignore it. 

“How was Italy?” he asked, in part because he wanted to stop her from having a go at him, but also because he was dying for a normal conversation that had nothing to do with the Dark Lord, and his father, and the war.

Luckily, Pansy didn’t need much encouragement. She started babbling happily about the beaches, all the food she ate, the people and all the wine she managed to swipe from her parents. Draco was grateful not to have to speak for a while. It was nice to listen to something so down to earth.

It didn’t last very long, though. 

“You know,” Pansy said, “apparently some people aren’t coming back this year.”

“Muggle-borns,” Blaise chimed in. 

Draco leaned back in his seat. “People are starting not to trust Dumbledore with their precious children as much.”

“Took them long enough,” Blasie sighed. “He let a bloody werewolf teach us.”

“Lupin wasn’t all that bad,” Pansy countered.

“Did you fancy him or something, Parkinson?" Draco joked.

“You think I’m into hairy guys?”

“I don’t know what goes on in that head of yours.”

Pansy rolled her eyes at him.  “At least he actually taught us something. Better than Umbridge.”

"S’ppose” Blaise shrugged.

The compartment doors swung open and the freckle-covered face of some Ravenclaw student peered inside.

“Hi, sorry, is there a Blaise Zabini in here?” the girl asked.

“Depends who’s asking,” Blaise drawled.

“I’ve been asked to deliver a message from Professor Slughorn.”

The girl passed Blaise a wax sealed envelope. Pansy peered over his shoulder as he opened it. 

“That’s the new Potions professor," she said. “He taught my father.”

Blaise scanned the letter quickly and scoffed.

“What is it?” Draco asked. 

Though he wouldn’t admit it, the mysterious letter had sparked some curiosity in him.

“Looks like I’ve got lunch plans today.”

“Who would have thought you’d be such a teacher’s pet, Blaise,” Pansy giggled. “Getting invited to lunch by a professor on the first day back? Must have been a busy summer.”

“What does Slughorn want with you?” Draco asked. “You’re awful at potions.”

“Beats me.” Blaise shrugged. 

“Maybe Slughorn’s doing special classes, for those most in need, this year,” Pansy suggested, smiling innocently. 

“Rude.” 

“Only logical explanation.” Draco smirked.

“Jealousy doesn’t look good on either of you,” Blaise said, standing up. “Let’s hope the food is good. See you later.”

He left the compartment whistling, his hands in his pockets, leaving just Draco and Pansy in their booth. 

The girl pressed her forehead against the window. Her fingers fiddled with the hem of her jumper, each of them decorated with chipped black polish and silver rings. They both sat in silence for a while, looking at the rolling hills they were passing, before she said, “Isn’t it strange that we’re only going to get to do this one more time?”

He raised a brow. “Pansy Parkinson getting sentimental?”

She laughed. “Maybe a bit. Hogwarts is a shithole, but I’m going to miss it. I’ve spent most of the last few years of my life there.”

He decided not to tell her that he may not be there with her on the train next year. That by then he might be onto bigger things.

This was going to be a good year for him. Draco was going to make sure of that. It was going to be difficult, but it would all be worth getting his father out of prison, restoring his family’s good name and keeping his mother safe. There was a lot he was willing to do to accomplish that.

Apparently even murdering his headmaster.

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

Blaise returned after an hour. He already had a scowl on his face as he swung the compartment door open, and it only deepened when he couldn’t get it to shut again.

“What’s wrong with this thing?” he asked angrily, as he tousled with the door. 

Just as Draco got up to help him, the door slid open completely, and Zabini toppled over sideways, landing straight in Gregory Goyle’s lap. Pansy and Draco both erupted into laughter.

“Oi!” Goyle snarled. “Get off me.”

“You’re acting like I wanted to land on your fat arse!”

“We all know you like it, Goyle,” Pansy jeered.

“Get your hands off me,” Zabini spat.

“You’re the one sitting on me!”

“Keep telling yourself that, mate.”

Blaise leapt up before Goyle could shove him off and slumped down next to Pansy. Draco sprawled out across the free seat next to him. He listened as the two slytherins continued to squabble with a smile, when something white flashed before his eyes. Draco frowned slightly.

“How was it?” Pansy asked, still laughing slightly.

“One of the biggest wastes of time,” Blaise groaned.

“What did Slughorn want?” 

Draco was glad that Pansy asked before he had to. Blaise was always far too pleased when he forced someone to try and pry information out of him.

“Just trying to find some well-connected people,” he said, straightening his jacket. “Not that he managed to find any.”

“Who else did he invite?” Draco asked.

“McLaggen from Gryffindor,” Blaise replied.

“Oh yeah, his uncle’s big in the Ministry.” Pansy filled in.

“–somone else called Belby, from Ravenclaw.”

Pansy scowled. “He’s a dickhead.”

“Magnolia Stellifer was there too,” Blaise added, and Draco noticed the way he looked at him, searching for a reaction.

It didn’t surprise Draco one bit that she was invited. She was brilliant at potions – he had to give her that.

“– and Longbottom, Potter and that Weasley girl,” Zabini finished.

“He invited Longbottom?” Draco laughed in disbelief. 

“Well, I assume so, as Longbottom was there,” Zabini said indifferently.

“What’s Longbottom got to interest Slughorn?” Pansy asked.

Blaise shrugged.

“Guess the whole Potter fan club scored an invite,” Draco sneered. “Even the Weasley girl.”

“A lot of boys like her for some reason,” Pansy said. “Even you think she’s good-looking, don’t you, Blaise, and we all know how hard you are to please.” She wriggled her thick eyebrows suggestively. 

Blaise made a gagging noise. “I’d rather snog Goyle.”

“I don’t have a hard time believing that after what we just saw,” Draco teased.

“Not that I want to spend my free time with that old man,” Pansy said, “but I’m a bit surprised that Malfoy and I weren’t invited.”

“I wouldn't bank on an invitation,” Blaise said. “He asked me about Notts father when I first arrived. They used to be old friends, apparently, but when he heard he’d been caught at the Ministry, he didn’t look happy. And Nott didn’t get an invitation, did he? I don’t think Slughorn’s interested in Death Eaters. At least not convicted ones.”

Draco let out a single humourless laugh. “His loss.”

“We’re nearly there,” Pansy said. “We should get our robes on. Blaise needs all the time he can get in front of the mirror.”

The boy clutched his chest. “How thoughtful, Pansy.”

As they all stood up and Goyle reached up for his trunk, Draco heard a noise that sounded suspiciously like a faint grunt. He looked over at Pansy and Blaise, but they were still going back and forth about something, oblivious to the strange noise. Draco continued pulling on his robe like he hadn’t heard anything and reached for his trunk. The train halted.

“You guys go on,” he told his friends. “I just want to check something.”

Draco waited until he couldn’t hear anyone in the corridor and lowered the blinds. He bent down and reached into his trunk, then spun around and pointed his wand at the luggage rack.

“Petrificus Totalus!”

Just as he had suspected, Potter came toppling down from the rack, his head and torso sliding out from underneath an invisibility cloak. He landed right at Draco’s feet. 

Draco smirked down at him. “Hello Potter. I thought it was you,” he said jubilantly. “I heard Goyle’s trunk hit you and thought I saw something white flash through the air after Zabini came back… It was quite rude of you not to say hello.”

His eyes lingered for a moment on Potter’s face as he considered how much he could get away with. 

“You didn’t hear anything I care about, Potter, but while I’ve got you here…” Draco stamped down hard on Harry’s face. He heard a crunch under his shoes as Potter’s blood spluttered everywhere. “That’s from my father.” He kicked again. “And that’s from me.”

Potter’s glasses had snapped into three pieces and the glass had shattered, some of it slicing into his – definitely broken – nose. 

It felt good to see him so defenceless. The legendary boy who lived at his feet. It was his fault that Draco was in the position he was in.

“Oh, dear” Draco cooed cruelly. “You’ve made quite the mess.” He wiped his shoe on Harry’s shirt, then dragged the cloak from under Harry’s immobilised body and threw it over him. “I don’t reckon they’ll find you until the train’s back in London,” he said quietly. “See you around, Potter… or not.”

He took care to tread on his fingers as he left the compartment. 

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

“Does Potter’s nose have anything to do with what you left on the train?” Pansy asked Draco during the feast. 

“Perhaps.” He smirked, pleased with himself. What he did was going to be the highlight of his week. 

The Slytherin table erupted into laughter. They were silenced only by Dumbledore stepping onto the podium. 

“The very best of evenings to you!” Dumbledore said, smiling broadly, his arms opened wide enough to embrace the whole room.

Draco groaned and buried his head in his arms. 

“Now...to our new students, welcome, to our old students, welcome back! Another year full of magical education awaits you...” 

He mostly drowned out the sound of Dumbledore’s annual speech.

“...those wishing to play for their House Quidditch teams should give their names to their Heads of House as usual. We are also looking for new Quidditch commentators, who should do likewise. We are pleased to welcome a new member of staff this year, Professor Slughorn. He is a former colleague of mine who has agreed to resume his old post of Potions master. Professor Snape, meanwhile,” Dumbledore said, raising his voice so that it carried over all the muttering, “will be taking the position of Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher. Now, as everybody in this Hall knows, Lord Voldemort and his followers are once more at large and gaining in strength.” 

Draco lifted his head off the table at the name ‘Lord Voldemort’.

“I cannot emphasize strongly enough how dangerous the present situation is, and how much care each of us at Hogwarts must take to ensure that we remain safe. The castle’s magical fortifications have been strengthened over the summer, we are protected in new and more powerful ways, but we must still guard scrupulously against carelessness on the part of any student or member of staff. I urge you, therefore, to abide by any security restrictions that your teachers might impose upon you, however irksome you might find them — in particular, the rule that you are not to be out after hours. I implore you, should you notice anything strange or suspicious within or outside the castle, to report it to a member of staff immediately. I trust you to conduct yourselves, always, with the utmost regard for your own and others’ safety.” 

The old man had no clue what he had coming. 

#draco malfoy #draco malfoy fic #draco malfoy x oc #ao3 #hurt/comfort #angst #death eater draco #enemies to lovers #slow burn #harry potter and the half-blood prince #morally grey characters #childhood friends #golden trio slander #pureblood culture #friends to enemies to lovers #pansy parkinson #blaise zabini

[butternuggets-blog]

Prompt: Did You Hear That?

Entry for Adarafaelbarba’s Trick or Treat Bingo

Heavily inspired by @minim236 ‘s post

Scary/Minor Gore

Day One

‘Did you hear that?!’ Lucius sat bolt upright in his bedroll, gladius in hand, as he glanced about. Felix sat up as well, crusty-eyed and messy-haired. The rest of the squad snored on around them.

‘I don’t hear anything'

Felix tugged at the back of Lucius' tunic but the older boy shook him off.

'Come rest. I need my sleep.'

‘I’m not stopping you’ Lucius snapped. They froze suddenly as a low, thin sound blew past them.

‘It’s the wind making the trees creak’ Felix pointed between the now pale Lucius, and the forest encroaching on the edge of the tiny clearing.

The teenagers were lumped together in the middle of the encampment. A Roman encampment usually meant tents, but the foliage was such a tangled mess this deep into the woods that they were sleeping on their bedrolls in small piles.

They had been telling each other ghost stories before they went to bed. Lucius' nerves had been wound up more than he'd care to admit.

Felix grabbed the back of Lucius' tunic and pinned him back down into his bedroll with his arm.

‘Come. Sleep.’

‘...Fine’ Lucius grumbled, settling reluctantly back onto the ground, flinching as the whistling, moaning noises continued to echo through the clearing.

________________________________________________________________

Day Three

Lucius frowned down at his pack. He had emptied out everything into neat rows in the mud beside him, and he still hadn’t been able to find his spare set of greaves.

‘Has anyone seen my scarf?’ Vitus ambled up, wriggling a finger in one ear. He stopped next to Lucius. ‘Oh, are you looking for something too?’

‘My spare greaves. I have looked everywhere.’

‘Things have gone missing all over camp,’ Felix said. He ate the last of his broth, and wiped the bowl with a chunk of bread. He waved it towards Marianus, Albus, and Spurius.

‘Verus has charged them with guard duty over the armourery tonight. The things that have been taken are only small; tent pegs, sandals, several lengths of rope. But the commander is urging vigilance, in case weapons are taken.’

‘Who do they think has done this?’ Lucius sneered at Vitus’ question, and jabbed a finger towards the forest around them.

‘Those creatures that call this place home. Gauls playing tricks on us, no doubt.’

‘But there were no tracks...’

Every boy snapped his gaze towards Albus. The sudden intense scrutiny made him blush.

‘There...there were no tracks anywhere in camp. Not animal, nor human. As if no creature had walked among us.’

Lucius felt a shiver roll up his spine.

***

The rattling whistle of the wind was louder than it had been all week. Lucius tossed and turned, trying to keep his mind blank to trick himself into unconsciousness.

A particularly loud moan nearby made him shoot up from his bedroll, panicked. He glared nervously out into the darkness, watching the trees intently for a few moments, before he lay back down.

Lucius was just beginning to get comfortable when his eyes snapped open.

The trees hadn't been moving.

There was no wind.

________________________________________________________________

Day Six

Lucius woke up right as Verus was aiming a kick at his thigh.

'Up, boy. Time for you to take watch'

'Yes sir'

Verus lay down on Lucius' still-warm bedroll as he pulled his gladius free from its scabbard and stood to attention. The commander normally slept a ways off from the rest of the squad, but it was too dangerous for that now.

The moaning had stopped the night before, and the sudden change was doing Lucius's head in. He had been jumping at shadows more than was necessary, including accidently nearly drawing his sword on other people approaching him from behind that he hadn't known were there.

If he kept up this he was going to get himself accused of cowardice.

****

Everything was gone.

Lucius stared around him, slackjawed.

Everything was...gone.

He had awoken that morning to the camp in uproar. Every piece of equipment, every scrap of cloth, every tent and saddle and pack had vanished.

‘At least it left us our bedrolls. And food.’ Albus nudged an upturned cooking pot with the tip of one sandle. ‘And the cauldrons.’

Lucius swallowed drily.

________________________________________________________________  

Day Seven

The mud sticking to the bottom of Lucius’ sandals had splattered half way up his thighs. His fringe was plastered across his eyes, and the river of sweat pouring down his face kept dripping under his collar, making his shirt stick uncomfortably to his skin.

‘Are we in the Underworld?’ Vitus gasped, as quietly as he could. The humidity had been rising steadily all day, and the forest had seemingly trapped the worst of it around them just as the night rolled in.

Lucius was fairly certain he was eating, rather than breathing, the air.

‘Pluto’s throne room would be cooler than this’ Spurius wheezed. He was at the edge of the squad formation, and kept having to stop every third step to haul Marianus and Albus forward out of the mire.

‘Eyes forward, stop talking’ Lucius choked out. He was at the front, leading the squad in a loose circular patrol around the camp. He shoved a low branch out of the way, and leant wearily against the trunk of the tree, catching his breath for a moment, waiting for the others to catch up.

A thin gust of wind stroked his face teasingly and he closed his eyes.

‘What is that?’

Lucius’ eyes snapped open.

Albus was pointing at something up ahead. Lucius squinted through the darkness; there was a large...thing...gently swaying in the sudden breeze, hanging down from the canopy above.

Lucius snuck closer.

It was armour.

Lucius shivered apprehensively.

The armour was strung up with rope, the thick cord providing a skeleton for the bodiless clothes. The end of the rope disappeared into the lightless canopy.

'Touch it!'

Lucius jumped, startled. Spurius slapped Albus.

'Do not touch it!'

'The rope looks like a noose' Felix squeaked.

Lucius took a deep breath to steady himself, drew his blade, and poked the leather breastplate with the tip of the gladius.

Nothing happened.

Lucius snorted and shoved his sword back into its scabbard, feeling angry with himself.

'There. Now, move-'

CLANK

Lucius spun on his heel in time to see the armour fly up the tree and out of sight. He clawed for his sword as he stumbled back to join the others; the boys pressed together, back to back, wild-eyed and shivering with shock.

'Who's there?' Lucius barked. 'Show yourself!'

In the tense pause they heard distant shouts erupt from across the camp. Felix cocked his head and listened intently.

'I think they have found more...bodies'

The squad pressed even closer together, swords raised high, breathing heavily.

Then all hell broke loose.

Blood and viscera rained down from above, splattering across their horrified faces. Thick ropes, knotted and tangled in a net spread wide across the entire clearing, shot out from the canopy; strung from it, dangling in a bizarre tableau, was every single piece of missing equipment.

Clothes and armour fought each other with spears and swords tied to empty, limbless sleeves. Tents torn to shreds and split-open packs were jumbled together in clumps or stuffed into tunics and breastplates to give certain mannequins extra realism.

Lucius turned white; Felix and Albus screamed, snapping him back to reality, right as Vitus, Spurius and Marianus fell down on top of each other as they attempted to flee.

________________________________________________________________ 

Phoebe was smiling with horrified fascination through her fingers.

‘What did you do after that?’

‘We left’ Baldwin chewed a handful of almonds absentmindedly.

‘Did you find out who did it?’

‘Not specifically. It was definately someone from one of the local villages- what?’

Phoebe was pointing next to Baldwin; he turned to face Martin, who looked like he was struggling to decide between laughing and feeling extremely guilty.

‘...oh you bastard-’

‘I’m sorry-ow! ow! stop hitting me!’

Phoebe broke down giggling as Baldwin thumped Martin repeatedly with a pillow.

‘I had nightmares for weeks! WEEKS! After that!’

‘I promise I’ll make it up to you’

‘EW!’ Phoebe squealed, blushing red.

#adarafaelbarbatrickortreatbingo #baldwin montclair #bibaldwin #baldwin de clermont #baldwin/male oc #phoebe taylor #adow #adow crack #a discovery of witches #a discovery of witches season 1 #a discovery of witches season 2 #a discovery of witches season 3 #all souls series #all souls trilogy #adow spoilers

[shadowydreamlandwonderland]

The Rulers who Bargained with Death - CHAPTER 17

The moment he stepped into the entrance hall Albus heard a familiar voice cut through the heavy silence like a knife; speaking in a shout from the second floor. Gellert was always shouting at someone, these days. "No, he writes too damn badly! Rosier can do it - where the hell is she?"

"But why can't you-"

"Because I don't have time - how many times do I have to say it? I'm meeting the Minister in less than four hours! Find Rosier and bring her to my office."

In the next moment, Gellerts' loud steps echoed through the silence as he stomped down the stairs, and for a second Albus considered rushing back into the rain and hiding. But there was no time, for then the boy appeared in his field of vision; tall and beautiful and radiating anger. His curls were wild and untamed, falling before his corpse-white face, and for the first time since meeting him there were traces of stubble under his lower lip and down to his chin. He was wearing a shirt with stains of what looked like blood on its sleeve, the black waistcoat was wrinkled and missing one of its silver buttons.

It was all so very unlike him, so far from Gellert Grindelwald's usual, physically perfect state, but it did not matter how imperfect he was in this moment. Seeing him still had the same, usual effect on Albus Dumbledore. He felt his mouth go dry as a desert, felt his heart tighten in his chest and his legs begin to turn to water, and when their gazes met he was not even able to move. Gellert froze as well; froze as soon as he reached the staircase landing and caught sight of him, eyes widening slightly. There was something very different about those eyes, Albus realized. Not only were all traces of happiness gone, but so were the intriguing, mismatched color of them. His eyes were now clear blue - almost entirely the same color as Albus' own, and the color they had been the first time he met him - and though they were pretty, they were not beautiful in the way his natural ones were.

They were just not right, not him.

But this was not the time to reflect over Gellerts' eye color, Albus had to remind himself, and he no longer had the right to convince him to keep and cherish his unique eyes. Not now, not after what he had done, and not after everything that had transpired between them.

For several seconds the two boys just stood there; frozen in time and looking into each other's eyes. But then, suddenly, the breathless moment was shattered as Gellert finally parted his lips and spoke, almost harshly: "Have you seen Vinda?"

"No, I only just came", Albus replied, and his voice sounded surprisingly strong. "What's going on?"

"Insurrection Juste has written about us in The Prophet again. I'm looking for someone who can write them an answer, but everyone who can write reasonably well seems to have disappeared without a trace..."

"I can do it."

He offered before he could stop the words from leaving his lips, offered even though he knew it was not a good idea; because Bathilda was probably right when she said that more work was the last thing he needed right now. Still, Albus wanted to bury himself in work; wanted to distract himself from the absolute agony of being apart from Gellert, wanted to remind him of just how ambitious and intelligent and talented he was, what he was missing out on by not being with him... Besides, Gellert was obviously terribly stressed, and he did not want to add this to the list of things he had to take care of himself.

Now, Gellerts' eyes once again made contact with his own; the expression in them hard to identify, before he slowly lowered his head in a nod. "Could you? That would be good - since you write amazingly... Very well then, I want it sent in by the day after tomorrow. Thank you."

Without saying anything else, without even looking at him Gellert walked past him into the drawing room; with swift, hasty steps, as if he wanted to run away from him. Barely registering it, unaware of what he was doing and what he was going to say, Albus hurried after him.

#grindeldore #dumbledore x grindelwald #albus dumbledore #gellert grindelwald #young albus dumbledore #young gellert grindelwald #albus x gellert #alternate universe #fanfiction #dark grindeldore

[alohaemora]

Hello Alohaemora. This is the same anonymous user that commented about your work on FanFiction.Net. One of my favorite stories is “Sunday Dinner” because I like how you expanded the Smith family! I’m wondering if you have any more headconnans about them? Are they all redheads like the Weasleys? I know canonically Zacharius is blonde but his father, daughter and his sister Audrey are redheads. Speaking of his daughter I know Albus ends up marrying her in your timeline. How did that come to be?

Ah, Sunday Dinner. Probably one of the most niche, self-indulgent fics I've ever written, so it is incredibly touching when readers tell me they enjoy it - thank you, Anon!! I wrote it mostly for the opportunity to pen down some of my long-standing headcanon about the Smith family. Zacharias Smith might be the only Hufflepuff in the entire series that Harry genuinely dislikes (and for good reason). I've decided that the Smiths are descended from Helga Hufflepuff, drawing on what we know about Hepzibah Smith from HBP - quite a stretch, I know, given how common the surname "Smith" is in the UK, but I liked the idea of Zacharias coming from old money, the spoiled "heir" of a family of rather unpleasant, haughty Hufflepuffs. And honestly, I really wanted to write the line: "I think Helga Hufflepuff would wish she never procreated if she knew our family would turn out to be her last living descendants." 😂

(More rambling headcanon below the cut ↓)

I enjoy exploring pure-blood class dynamics - and I'm especially fond of exploring that murky gray area made up of families who are well-to-do and prideful about their heritage, who are not Death Eaters and yet do not side with Dumbledore. It's an interesting middle ground to explore and one that is probably bigger than we realize, reading the series from Harry's perspective, surrounded as he is by the Order of the Phoenix (who make up such a small percentage of the Wizarding world). Infuriating as it is to think/write about, a considerable majority of wizards are surely content to misjudge the political climate from the security and privacy of their homes - even those descended from a bastion of loyalty, dedication, and fair play, Helga Hufflepuff herself.

And so, the Smith family emerged in my imagination, made up of Zacharias (b. 1981), his parents, and his four older sisters (Eleanor, b. 1968; Catherine, b. 1970; Audrey, b. 1973; and Sally Marie, b. 1979). I wanted Audrey to come from a stilted background, to have a strained relationship with her family - I HC her meeting Percy in DH, and I thought it would give them some interesting common ground. Both middle children, both dealing with feelings of disillusionment with the Ministry (where they work). You asked if I have any other HCs about the Smith family, and I do have plenty of little ideas between the lines, but for the sake of not taking up too much space on people's feeds, I'll share a couple things:

1. In "Sunday Dinner," I mention that one of Zacharias Smith's brothers-in-law is Ernie Macmillan's older brother. I liked the detail in OotP of Zacharias eavesdropping on Ernie and Hannah as they discuss the DA with Hermione; I HC Zacharias and Ernie having some long-standing hostility between them that began when they were young children, watching their older siblings date. We read the series from Harry's POV, who had no contact with Wizarding society until he was 11, but I think Wizarding families must see quite a lot of each other, given how small the magical world supposedly is.

2. Audrey, a Hufflepuff born in early 1973, would have shared a dormitory with Tonks. They weren't close friends or anything, but it's hard to share a space with someone for 7 years and not get to know them at least a little. I quite like the idea of Teddy having someone in his life (besides his grandmother, of course) who knew his mother in a different context than the Order - something Harry didn't have with his own mum.

#zacharias smith #smith family #hp headcanon #ask alohaemora

[min-kit]

Grindeldore | After Life (Complete)

First, I want to say, that I didn’t actually write this. My best friend did but they want to remain anonymous for reasons and so they have allowed me to post this for them on my tumblr! I will probably be doing that with some of their other fics should they be posting more. I hope you enjoy :)

Summary: After Albus dies, he waits in the after life for Gellert and meets a few people along the way.

“Severus, please—“

Death is as immediate and instant as he expected it to be. 

One moment, he’s staring at the cold, terrified face of Draco Malfoy, forced to perform a chore no teenager should ever have to face. The next, he is seeing his own plan come to fruition as Severus steps up to take the barb meant for young Malfoy. It’s over in a flash of green light and one out of body second where he feels himself fall backwards; can see his own human body descended from the tower, then it’s over.

It’s over and he’s awake in a field, a light breeze sweeping through his beard. 

The sun is bright, but the light does not hurt his eyes. There may be heat, but all he feels is a comfortable warmth. His hand no longer aches. His throat no longer burns from that horrible potion. His joints, gone with age, no longer cry out in pain. He feels at peace, and that peace has him sitting up to see where the afterlife has led him.

Immediately, he recognizes the hill, the field a short walk from where his childhood home had been in Godric’s Hollow. At the top is the tree, the tree that was rumored to mark the spot that one of the Peverell brothers once lived. The spot where the resurrection stone could have resided. The spot he’d spent many afternoons relaxing, Gellert at his side, books and parchments around him.

He realizes, with a start, that he sees a man sitting beneath the tree and he hopes that it’s Gellert waiting for him. Simultaneously, he doesn’t want to think that Gellert is already in the afterlife; it’s a tumultuous whirlwind of emotions.

However, it’s not Gellert that sits there. As he stands, draws closer, and closer, he recognizes the visage before him. Recognizes the auburn hair, round spectacles and square jaw that had graced his father’s profile. Upon seeing him, Ablus looks to his left, and then his right, expecting to see Ariana and his mother somewhere nearby, waiting to greet him, but neither are there. It’s just him and his father.

“They’re not coming,” his father calls, his voice unchanged since the last time he’d heard it when it’d yelled at him to stay strong and protect the family as the aurors dragged him away. 

Albus takes a deep breath and a longer exhale. “They’re angry with me.”

“No,” his father says with a small smile, “Ariana, she accepted death quite young, I think. I was here waiting for her as well and she smiled and said she was ready. She was happy it didn’t hurt anymore, and she left. She didn’t hesitate to take a walk,” he says, motioning towards the path that leads towards their family. The path that must have been here waiting for Albus to walk down if he so chose.

“Mother?”

“She was waiting for Ariana. She wanted to wait for you, and Aberforth, but I told her I would instead. That I’d sit here, and wait, and now, here you are,” he says, and his head rolls towards Albus for the first time, a twinkle in his eye, “You got old, my boy.”

“Indeed, the years have been long,” Albus says, and takes a seat beside his father. “—but, I am read—“

His father lifts his hand to cut him off. “When Kendra was here, and Ariana, the path, it was bright, the sun beamed down, and there were leaves that dotted the path, like our late summer walks when Ariana was tiny, before her accident. The path, it was inviting, welcoming, ready to welcome them home, but now—“

The path was still bright and sunny, but there were no leaves, there was just tall grass, a few dotting of flowers, closer to late spring, and early summer. It looks inviting, as if he were to walk down it, he’d find Gellert waiting outside his home, ready to sneak in and cause pleasurable mischief within the confines of Albus’ bedroom.

“As I thought—“ his father nods, “—we’re not the home you’re waiting for. You’re not ready to move on until he comes.”

“Father—“

“You’re quite like me, Albus, stubborn and bullheaded, but once your heart is set on something it does not change, even in the matter of love. Your grandparents, they didn’t want me to marry Kendra, forbade, explicitly—told me it would be a disgrace to the Dumbledore name to marry her and yet, I did it regardless and look where that got me.”

“Locked away in Azkaban to die alone?”

His father laughs, loud and boisterous, “With three children, and a home, a beautiful wife, and a fulfilling life. I would have happily gone to Azkaban twenty times over for any of my children. So, I was able to leave life with no regrets, can you say the same?”

“I loved the wrong person, father,” he says, no more above a whisper, feeling much like the young teen he once was. “What Gellert went on to do—the atrocities he committed—I enabled him—If I hadn’t have been so blind, Ariana—those muggles—“

“Ah, Albus, you are not so naive. Ariana was an obscurus, her life was destined to be a short one, regardless of circumstances. As for those muggles, well, I can’t say one way or another, as I admit in my anger, and my rage, I was no better, was I? Life is made of decisions, good and bad—“ he shakes his head. “—she didn’t blame you, your sister. She told me to tell you she didn’t blame you, she never did. It was never in her heart.”

Albus can feel the tears pool at his eyes. Ancient as he is in years, he still pulls his knees to his chest, and lays his cheek against them like the boy who had cried in despair the morning he woke up alone with the realization that Gellert had left him behind, “I was going to run away. I was going to leave them and I—“

“Have punished yourself ever since,” he says, and nods, “I’ve watched. Do you not feel you made amends when you stopped him? You chose the many over your own heart. I can only imagine the pain of locking away someone you love, then again, your mother had to testify against me when called upon. She had to see her words put the final nail in my sentence—“ he chuckles again, “We are so similar, Albus. I do apologize.”

“I’ve made mistakes—“

His father reaches out and places his hand on his head and when Albus blinks he is a boy again, he can see his own reflection in his father’s glasses. His young face looks back at him, red hair blown by the breeze, tears filling his eyes as he stares at this view of himself; perhaps the image his father holds most dear to memory. “I’m going to wait here for Aberforth. You’re welcome to wait with me.”

Albus sniffles, rubs his nose on a white sleeve and stares down at the grass, “I can’t yet, there’s someone I have to greet, they’ll be coming soon if everything goes as I suspect it will.”

“Ah, yes, I suppose you do have a bit of unfinished business,” he says with a nod. “Well, I’ll be waiting for you, right here, once you're done.”

Albus nods, and rises to his feet. His father returns to resting against the tree, and with one last look at his son, his eyes close, and his hands rest against his stomach as he continues to wait. He walks away, in the opposite direction, through the grass, not sure where he’s expecting his feet to carry him.

There is no sense of the passage of time. He sees moments as he walks, glimpses of the living, and hears the screams of the frightened. He can see Harry and his friends as they learn of the Hallows. He can see their fights and their struggles. Can see the moment the Elder wand changes possession from Mr. Malfoy to Harry, and sees, even the resolve, that Severus sets in when he feels the shift of that power. 

He’s waiting, and waiting, and feels for Minerva that she has stepped into his shoes with no clues hinting to his machinations. He sees Severus suffer as he plays his role flawlessly, knowing the paths he walks likely lead to his death, and yet, he does not waver to protect the child of Lily Potter even if it costs his own life. All the struggles that he has left in his wake become the battles of others, and then the time has come.

Before he can register the change, the fields around him change into a station; Kings Cross. He can’t help but chuckle that Harry’s personification of the afterlife would be the train station where his life had changed forever. The moment Harry had stepped onto Platform 9 and three quarters was the day he truly began to live. It was appropriate that this would be where he makes his final choice as well.

Unsurprisingly, he finds them waiting for Harry as well. Lily, untouched by age, holding her husband’s hands as they both fidget, looking around for their son. Sirius Black, once again as young as 21, at his best mate’s side, hand on his shoulder and at Mr. Black’s side is Remus Lupin, hand in Mr. Black’s, his face unscarred, untouched by the torment of the werewolf.

“I quite expected you lot to be here,” he greets and sees himself aged once more, touched by the memories of the people before him who’d only known him in age. “—you should not let Harry see you, it could sway his decision.”

“His decision—?” James says and steps towards him. “He—we saw it—we saw him right before he went to the forest and we know—he—“

“Yes,” Ablus nods, and smiles that the resurrection stone had worked for Harry; had offered resolve in those final moments, “Look there—“ he says, and motions to the bloodied fetal like corpse of Voldemort that lines forgotten in Kings Cross. “That is the part of Voldemort that attached itself to Harry. If Harry should choose to fight, to go back, only this part will die, and Harry, he will live.”

“He’ll live—“ Lily says with a small gasps, and her hands clench around James’. “He has a choice? You’re sure, professor?”

Ablus nods, “I didn’t realize until recently that your son was in fact, a horcrux. Voldemort, by killing Harry, has killed a part of himself, the part that lives attached to Harry and if Harry makes the choice to go back—“

“He can finish living? Like, a normal life?” Sirius asks, and they all look up as a whistle blows; Harry would be there soon.

“We should go,” Remus says, and motions to the train. “If Harry sees any of us, he’ll board the train just to be with us, to be with you,” he says and looks pointedly towards Lily and James. Both the Potters look to each other before they all notice a shadow in the distance, walking closer and closer.

They don’t have a moment more to linger and they hurry into the open compartment door to hide away as Albus steps forward to greet Harry. Harry who is shaken and bloodied from a long hard war. Harry, who looks tired and ready to board a train just to take the easiest path, but Albus does not want to sway his decision. He’d like to see Harry return and live out his years, to destroy the evil in the living world, but he also knows how appealing the choice could be.

“—In Rita Skeeter’s book, she talked about your friendship with Gellert Grindelwald—“

Albus looks at him with a tilt of his head

“I saw him, once, when Voldemort went to him, asking where the Elder wand is,” Harry continues, “He refused to tell him, refused to give up where the wand remained—until I saw that I wondered who you were professor—I mean, how you could have been friends with a dark wizard—Hermione said he was the worst before Voldemort, perhaps even darker, and I was confused—“

“I never meant to cause you such turmoil, Harry, I assure you, my history with Gellert Grindelwald is quite a complicated one—“

“But, he had good in him, of some kind, right? At least at the end, why else would he have not helped Voldemort?”

“Are you asking if Voldemort may feel remorse for his actions?”

Harry shakes his head, “I don’t think he does—Grindelwald didn’t seem scared of death, but Voldemort does, why else would he go through all of this?”

Albus chuckles, “Quite astute, Harry. Is there a question in there?”

“No, I just—I wanted to tell you, because her book said you had been friends once.”

“Once,” Ablus nods, “A very long time ago, Harry.”

The whistle above them blows, the second time that Albus has heard it since he arrived on the platform. This time, signaling Harry’s departure from the in-between. 

“We’ve run out of time, Harry.”

He truly is a brave boy for returning to the land of the living, but Albus has no doubt it will work out for him in the end, and Albus has no intention of waiting at Kings Cross any longer. He’s going to return to Godric’s Hollow, to his tree, to sit beside his father. He knows, now, that Gellert has left the world of the living some time ago, but never once has Albus seen him. It’s a crushing reality that while Albus may wait for him, Gellert may never come. All the beautiful words in the land of the living meant nothing when compared to eternity. His remorse, while a weight off his heart, was likely the absolution Gellert needed for his own afterlife, and maybe it’s what Albus needed as well.

Now, he could return to the tree, and his father, and the path would be ready to welcome him home where Kendra and Ariana and possibly even Aurelius waited for him. He could be happy in the afterlife gifted to him and know that in his last moments Gellert had shown remorse; one day, Ablus would offer Harry a great deal of thanks. 

He walks into that field once again, the sun beats down on his skin, the breeze sweeps through his hair that he feels shorten away to his shoulders, his beard disappearing, once again manipulated by those who saw him at different points in life. When he sees the tree again, he sees his father, sitting as he was when he left, and he sees a figure standing beside him and wonders if the war has claimed Aberforth.

As he drawers closer, he realizes the figure is too tall, too lean, to be Aberforth, and without meaning to, he feels his pacing begin to speed up as he draws closer and closer. It’s not his father’s memories his appearance has shifted to, but his, Gellert’s, who stands underneath their tree, arms crossed, looking horribly impatient.

“You’ve kept me waiting—“ he says, once he sees Albus and Albus does the first thing his mind compels him to do and he runs towards him.

He doesn’t know if he’s going to hit him, curse him, jinx him, or perhaps all of them, but he runs to Gellert until his body decides to simply collapse into him. Gellert’s arms wrap around him, and his wrap around his torso in return to cling to him.

“Your father said you had unfinished business—that Voldemort fella, I assume—are you done now?”

“Yes,” Albus nods, and looks up at him, those mismatched eyes staring back, set in the young face of the man he’d met back in the summer of 1899. “Did you truly feel remorse? Is that why you didn’t tell him the Elder wand was with me?”

“Albus, I’ve felt remorse for longer than you can know,” he whispers, his fingers touching his cheek, and Albus leans into the touch. “I’d never let someone descrecate your tomb, but it was quite rude to leave me in that life alone, no matter how brief it was. Rude, indeed,” he says with a kiss to Albus’ forehead.

“Gellert—“ he whispers, and it's him that leans up to seal their lips in a kiss that would have Witch Weekly blushing as they cling to each other in the promise to never be parted again.

“Not even death will part us, Albus,” Gellert whispers back, “This next great adventure is only ours to have.”

Besides them, Albus’ father clears his throat, and motions to the path. The path that looks like it’s beckoning him forward in a way it hadn’t before. “Go on,” he urges. “I’m going to wait for Aberforth.”

“Come along, Albus,” Gellert says, and takes his hand, pulling him towards the path and Albus feels his feet go willingly.

For a moment, he wonders where it’s going to lead. Will it lead to the Dumbledore house where the rest of his family waits? Will it lead to Hogwarts or Numerengard or maybe even Paris or somewhere completely different? He doesn’t know, but he walks, hand in hand with Gellert as it welcomes them with a different kind of warmth. A warmth that is like a tight hug as they continue on and on until they’re in a kitchen, standing at a dining table, still hand in hand.

Albus looks up at Gellert and sees he has aged. His blond haired combed but beginning to grey, his body more filled out with age, wrinkles beginning to form at the edges of his eyes. In one life time, they had promised to grown old together, and it seems in eternity, this is what they’d have; each other.

“Albus—“ Gellert says, and motions to the window behind him. The window that looks out to a house not to far from their own, a house identical to the one Albus stands in now. The difference is, in the window of that other house is his sister, Ariana, with a bright smile, waving her arms widely at them. Behind her is Kendra, who says something that has Ariana laughing before she points at him and Kendra looks.

His mother looks to him and blows him a kiss with a nod as Ariana waves again before stepping away from the window, into the house.

As Albus watches, he feels Gellert step up behind him, his arms wrapping around his waist, his chin resting on his shoulder with a sigh. This was his afterlife, in a home with the only man he’d ever loved, next door to his family, who still loved him despite all the sins he had committed.

This was his afterlife, and he was more than happy to accept it.

#grindeldore #gellert grindelwald #albus dumbledore #fandom: harry potter #pairing: grindeldore #character: gellert grindelwald #character: albus dumbledore #rating: T #fic: after life #ficsbyminkit

[charmsandtealeaves]

Snow Globe

Read on AO3 or ff.net 

Chapter 1 of ?

Summary: 

Muggle AU

The dreaded annual work holiday party, complete with cheesy party games, forced fun, too much eggnog, and a bunch of people who would rather be doing anything else. Then of course, there is also the Secret Santa. Plastering on her best fake smile Lily Evans opens the box containing her own Secret Santa Gift. To her amazement, she finds a snow globe that matches the one she had as a child but lost when she moved years ago. How could somebody possibly have known about this? Let alone found it. Who knows her this well? Glancing at a hand written note attached to the bottom of the globe she reads: “I hope you like your gift. It was difficult to find, but seeing you smile will be worth it. Happy Holidays - Your Secret Santa.” Lily turns her gaze to scan the faces around the room, wondering who her thoughtful Santa could be, but no face gives her any clue.

Title Image Credit:  Annie Spratt on Unsplash

Author’s Note:

Please be kind, this is the first story I'm actually publishing. Happy holiday season, whatever and however you celebrate ~ Charmsandtealeaves

Chapter 1:

It had finally arrived, the evening Lily Evans had been dreading for the last six weeks, the annual work holiday party. Why Phoenix Law, the company she worked for insisted on it every year she would never know. Every year it was the same thing, complete with cheesy party games, forced fun, someone who would inevitably drink far too much eggnog, and being surrounded by a group of people who would rather be anywhere else. Though let’s face it ‘anywhere else’ would most likely be the pub. Then of course to top it all off there was the bloody Secret Santa.

Lily had drawn the name of Peter Pettigrew, a bloke from accounting, who in all her interactions with him seemed to have the personality of a wet blanket. She’d almost forgotten to even get him a gift, remembering the Secret Santa draw on her drive over. Guilt did gnaw at her insides and she hoped he wouldn’t be too disappointed by the random collection of items she had snatched up at Flourish & Blotts. The small book and stationary store had been the only thing open at last minute.

Contemplating the best way to politely excuse herself from the party Lily watched the CEO, Albus Dumbledore, dressed in his garish Santa suit hand out gifts from a large sack. At least he didn’t need a fake beard she supposed, Albus’s lengthy white beard was already tucked neatly into his belt. Lily plastered on her best fake smile as he handed her the box containing her gift. She didn’t have high expectations. Previously her gifts had included copies of books she already owned, a dancing flower for her desk and a box of chocolate mice she just couldn’t bring herself to eat.  However, to her amazement this box felt rather heavy. Lily set her wine glass down on the table beside her to delicately peel back the ribbon from the box. Inside was a snow globe, one that she could have sworn matched the one she had lost years ago when she had moved out of her student flat and into her current studio apartment. The fake smile she had been wearing transformed into a genuine one as she lifted her precious cargo out of the box. She glanced at a handwritten note tapped to the bottom.

I hope you like your gift. It was difficult to find, but seeing you smile will be worth it. Happy holidays

– Your Secret Santa.

Lily scanned the faces around the room, looking to pick up on some subtle clue as to who her Secret Santa was to no avail. It was a very sweet gift, she just hoped after her dismal effort it hadn’t been poor Peter to gift it to her. Though she was probably attributing more sentimental value to it than her Secret Santa had intended, after all who could possibly know about her deep affection for a snow globe she had owned in her childhood.  Taking up her glass again she downed the remaining dregs of wine. Hoping she could now slink out before Horace Slughorn or one of the other middle management noticed and could steer her into a useless conversation about what they planned to do with all their leave until the new year. She had just managed to slip into her winter coat and scarf and believed she was home free when she was interrupted.

“Leaving already Evans?” James Potter asked her with a cocky grin. He wore an obnoxious ugly Christmas sweater with Rudolf on the front and his glasses were slightly askew on his face.  

Just when she had thought her escape was near. Lily sighed. It wasn’t like there was exactly anything wrong per say with Potter. He just seemed to rub her the wrong way. She found him still a little immature for his 25 years of age, cocky most definitely, and the biggest office flirt in the department. She didn’t have enough fingers and toes to count the number of ridiculous pranks he and his small group of friends, which surprisingly enough contained Pettigrew, had played over the years.

“Yes. Unfortunately, I have an early start tomorrow. Have a merry Christmas Potter.”  She lied easily.

“An early start on the first day of leave? Are you mad Evans!”

“I picked an early flight. Wanted to make the most of it.” Again, another lie. Lily had no intention of going anywhere for the festive period. Her parents had passed several years ago and the only family she had to speak of was an estranged sister. Her holiday would encompass what it did every year, peaceful solitude.

“Oh yeah? Where you headed?” James seemed genuinely intrigued. Precisely why she had hoped to avoid this kind of conversation by slipping out early.

“France. Spending the holiday with my sister” Maybe if she kept her answers brief, she could get this over with and be home in time to watch the Gavin & Stacey Christmas special before bed.

“Oh” He paused “I didn’t think you got along with your sister”

Lily stared at him curiously. How would Potter know about her relationship with her sister? It’s not like she often spoke of Petunia, and especially not at work. Ah that’ll be it, he just assumed.

“We get on fine. Just don’t have the opportunity to see each other much. She’s very busy these days. Her and her husband Vernon are expecting their first baby in June.” That last part at least was true. Though Lily only knew about the impending arrival of a niece or nephew courtesy of Facebook.  

“Well congratulations to them. I won’t keep you Evans I can see you’re eager to leave. Hope you have a pleasant time in France!” James replied cheerfully, giving her a brief wave as he departed to re-join the party.

*****

Lily had made it home in time to watch a bit of late-night telly before bed, and even managed a lie in the next morning of all things. Something she hadn’t been able to appreciate in months. Even on weekends she’d practically been up at the crack of dawn to catch up on things she hadn’t managed to get done during her work week. To have nothing on her plate for the next few weeks felt like an absolute dream. Turning on her laptop, mug of steaming tea in hand, Lily was greeted by the gentle pop-ding of a Facebook message.

 10:38am James Potter

Saw the news this morning. I’m sorry you will have missed your flight.

 Quickly Lily opened a new tab to find what on earth Potter was on about. The MSN news page was flooded with articles about a snow storm that had hit overnight. Planes were grounded, flights cancelled for the foreseeable future due to wind and unpleasant conditions, and even trains around the country had come to a standstill. As she read, another series of pop-dings pierced the quiet of her apartment.

 10:45am James Potter

I can’t imagine what it must be like to have to spend Christmas without family.

I know it’s not the same, but you are most welcome to join me and mine for Christmas dinner tomorrow.

Trust me. Mum’s mental and will have more than enough food.

If anything, you’d be doing me a favour.

 10:46am Lily Evans

Thank you for your condolences and the offer Potter. But I’ll be fine.

 10:46am James Potter

No one should spend Christmas alone Evans.

 Lily tried to think of something to say that wouldn’t make her sound like a hermit, or worse pathetic. She had spent the last four Christmases alone without issue.  She had no reason to celebrate, it was just an excuse to laze around in her pj’s listening to Christmas music, stuff her face with discount treats and watch old movies to her hearts content. No family necessary. Although, the idea of her first proper cooked Christmas meal in years that required little to no effort on her part did have its appeal. Lily could practically smell the ham and turkey already; it made her mouth water. Although she didn’t even know if Potter’s family even ate ham and turkey at Christmas. They could be vegetarian or vegan. Plus, she couldn’t exactly turn up at a stranger’s house empty handed. What if she offended them?

 10:51am Lily Evans

What would I need to bring? My fridge is pretty empty.

 10:52am James Potter

Absolutely nothing but your charming self.  

I wasn’t kidding. Mum makes enough to feed an army. We eat nothing but left overs for the week following Christmas.

Chicken, ham, turkey, Yorkshire puddings, roast potatoes, mashed potatoes, caramelised vegies, salad…

Even Brussel sprouts if you’re that way inclined.

Though personally I always make sure to leave room for dessert. Dad’s Christmas pudd is to die for.

Come on. Your mouth has to be watering by now.

Just imagine the food coma of satisfaction.

And having to do none of the dishes.

If you’re that worried about it. My folks drink red.

 10:55am Lily Evans

Alright Potter you’ve convinced me.

Will a Merlot suffice?

Name the address and time.

 10:56am James Potter

Perfect.

I’ll pick you up at 3pm. It’s a little bit of a drive out of London, no point in potentially getting two cars stuck in the snow.

Promise I’m not an axe murderer.

Oh.

I’ll need your address.

#charmsandtealeaves #jily fanfiction #Muggle AU #Holiday fic #jilyarchive #Lily Evans #James Potter #jily #Snow Globe Fic

[yn-dreamlife]

The sun and moon

Sirius Black x Reader

A/N: I know this wasn't what I put on the masterlist, frankly it wasn't planned. I wrote it through McGonogalls eyes because I feel like she was really a mother figure to Sirius, as she is to all students she takes a liking towards. And all I could imagine is how she would feel watching as he fell in love.

Also, some people may not know and it will help you understand the last line but 'Sirius' is a name for a star more commonly known as the dog star.

Warnings: Fluff

| Main Masterlist | Harry Potter Masterlist |

Quiet, with soft smiles, and even softer words. Invisible at times- no not invisible just... faded. Faded into a background of seemingly much louder personalities, that's what Minerva McGonagall saw when she looked at the girl.

Loud, with bold grins, and even bolder shouts. Front and center, bold and bright, not afraid for others to see him, that's what Minerva McGonagall saw when she looked at the boy.

Trapped, rule abiding, alive yet barely living, just going through and living the times that life had forced upon, that was how she lived.

Free, unaffected by rules, not afraid to live life, living every second of the day instead of just hand picked moments, that was how he lived.

Nothing in common, two different worlds, and yet it was there. The flicker of eyes across a classroom that stopped, for seemingly just a second when a bell like laughter filled the air. The briefest pause in the hurried steps down the corridor when loud cheers were heard.

You two had never spoken, it was the first year and she knew. Minerva McGonagall had never been wrong before. “Mark my words Albus those two,” a swift flick of her eyes to each of the seemingly polar opposite students before continuing “those two will be each other's sun and moon.”

“Come now Minerva, for once I think you may be wrong,” his words seemed doubtful but the glint in his eye was one of recognition.

Bold, visible, bright, brave, there never could be a peaceful day with him around, him and his infectiously loud personality and bold actions, every moment was filled with electricity around him. That's how she felt about the now young man she had taught for four years.

Timid, hidden, shy, conformative, every day was peaceful when she was around, her and her calming aura with her old books and warm tea, and yet no minute was perhaps dull when she was there. That’s how she felt about the young woman she had taught for four years.

Nothing in common, seemingly two different worlds and yet it was still there. The swift pause of the flicker of an eye that turned into a curious gaze. A gaze caught on the anomaly that was how one person could be so confirmative to everyone, so faded and yet he saw her everywhere. The once brief pause in stride now turning into a lingering stance, accompanied by the much slower pace down a corridor, how did he always catch her eye, was it because he was so bold? Or perhaps it was because she knew he wasn't always like that.

“Want to take back what you said or are we raising our bet twenty sickles again?” Albus whispered.

“I will win this Albus, I’m telling you I’m never wrong.”

“And yet, they still have yet to speak.” He spoke his tone being his usual amount of dreamy. But she knew that not to be true because she had seen it. She had seen in their second year at Hogwarts the moment they had shared for the briefest of moments compared to every other.

It was the first time she was called a ‘mudbloood’, spoken by a greasy black haired Slytherin boy. Minerva wanted to check on the girl, make sure she was alright but when she had found her in the corridor, knees drawn to her chest as she sat atop a bench beneath the stained glass window, that now reflected the emotions of the girl she had stop dead in her much smaller than usual tracks.

To her shock she was not alone, she hadn't even noticed the young boy beside the girl as she first approached, he faded just like she had. The girl's emotions now shine brighter than his own. He was soft and small, timid and hidden, just as she had needed him to be. Minerva didn't mean to linger, she wanted to give them their privacy and yet she had. Maybe it was the concern for the girl or the shock of the unusual softness of the boy.

“He doesn't know what he’s talking about y/l/n,” he had whispered.

“But… I am. I’m not a pureblood let alone a half blood. How do I deserve to be a witch? Perhaps… perhaps I do have dirty blood,” the whisper had made Minerva's heart ache for the girl.

“No you don’t,” there was no question in the boy's words, no doubts in his mind. But the girl didn't look at him, she didn't move. Her gaze still on the window where it remained until he forced it his way with his hand on her shoulder. “I’m serious y/n, there is nothing dirty about you.” And in that moment both the females in the corridor knew he was in fact being serious. He didn’t grin or chuckle at the somewhat ironic phrase he had used like he would have normally.

And then there it was, that soft smile and the softer words Minerva was used to, the quiet whisper of “thank you.”

And then there it was, that bold grin that was so commonly seen from the boy, met with an uncommonly soft response of “of course.”

He was everything she wasn't but he was everything she wanted to be, but in the same regard she was everything he wished to be more of. He wasn’t afraid to think of what was next like she was, but she wasn't afraid to stop in the present and bask in the calm like him.

Minerva could see it, ever since one project in fifth year, one seemingly random event she hadn't even planned. The two had been paired by a random draw of names from a goblet, she watched as the young man grinned widely at the name on the paper, his eyes instantly finding the girl.

“I assume you know Mrs. Y/l/n.” Minerva feigned ignorance, she pretended she had not known of their soft shared moment all those years ago, that she had not noticed the looks passed from one to the other that the other person always had seemed to miss.

“Yes minnie dear I would dare say I do.” The grin on his face and the glint in his eyes brought a warmth to the girl's cheeks as she watched him approach. Minerva watched on with a warmth building in her own chest.

Brighter-not blinding but brighter, with shining smiles and brighter words. The girl who once allowed herself to fade was now shining, sometimes allowing herself to be seen. After six years that’s how Minerva saw her.

Confident- no longer the loud sort of confident but confident, with delighted grins and occasionally soft spoken words. The boy who once always had to be doing something now could enjoy the moment he lived in. After six years that’s how Minerva saw him.

No longer just lingering gazes and short passes in the hall. No longer silent curiosity’s and soft blushes. No longer secret moments and private thoughts of admiration.

Now playful banter and times spent together, studying under trees and running through corridors. Bright smiles with no chance of being able to fade as long as the other was near.

Minerva watched as the girl who was once so shy grew confident in herself, grew to be a proud young woman as opposed to the timid girl who wanted to disappear.

She watched as the boy who was loud and the center of attention grew to appreciate the sidelines which he wasn’t allowed at home. He grew to be a self assured young man as opposed to the insecure boy who just wanted to be seen for something good.

“How did you-“ but Minerva cut Albus off.

“I told you I always know.” But there was no exchange in what now had turns from knuts to galleons because it had not yet officially happened.

Happy, freed, living life, and present. That’s what Minerva saw when she looked at the woman before her. No longer did she fade into a dull background of those around her.

Happy, freed, living life, and present. That’s what Minerva saw when she looked at the man before her. No longer did he outshine those around him.

She became the calm warmth to the ever present storm brewing inside him. He turned from being a crippling and dangerous electricity to a pleasant buzz of life inside of her.

The moon had found her place to shine, basking in the light from the sun. Soaking it in and allowing it to free her from the prisons the night sky had placed her in.

The sun had found his place to shine, for once he had been seen. He no longer had to outshine the rest in fear of being overlooked.

Y/n Y/l/n had graduated as a woman. She wasn't the same girl she was when she entered and that was because of him. He had shown her how to look forward to the future and enjoy every second she was given. He was her freedom.

Sirius Black had graduated as a man. He wasn’t the same boy he was when he entered and that was because of her. She had shown him how to enjoy the present and how he didnt have to constantly think of what was next. She was his freedom.

Minerva had smiled triumphantly on the first day of that year she remembered when she finally had proof she won. When the two walked in hand and hand and parted with a swift kiss, and despite losing Albus couldn’t find it in himself to be angry. Because he was delighted to watch the young love unfold.

You had become his moon, and he had become your sun. Because after all the sun was just a star.

#sirius black #sirius black x reader #marauders era #marauders era x reader #marauders x reader #sirius black marauders #sirius black marauders era #sirius x reader #sirius black x yn #sirius x yn #sirius black x y/n #sirius x y/n #fluff #sirius black fluff #sirius black x reader fluff #sirius black x y/n fluff #the sun and moon

[theseusurus]

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

#gender neutral fanfic #harry potter x gender neutral reader #hufflepuff!reader #harry potter x hufflepuff!reader #hufflepuff #harry potter #afab reader #trans reader #nb reader #bill weasley x reader #bill weasley #harry potter fic #weasley x reader

[whatstruthgottodowithit]

The Other Evans Girl [Part Forty Seven]

Fandom: Harry Potter [Marauder’s Era]

Pairing: Sirius Black/Original Female Character, Sirius Black/Daisy Evans, James Potter/Lily Evans,

Characters: Sirius Black, Original Female Character, Daisy Evans, Lily Evans, Remus Lupin, James Potter, Harry Potter, Severus Snape, Minerva McGonagall, Alice Fortescue, Frank Longbottom, Marlene McKinnon, Albus Dumbledore, Voldemort, Peter Pettigrew, Lucius Malfoy, Bellatrix LeStrange, Walburga Black,

Word Count: 1240

Rating: Mature

Summary: Hogwarts is a safe haven, a home for many. But it’s often a place where heartache, love and complex emotions dwell and none know that better than the Marauders. Lily Evans just wants to make it out as a successful witch though the oncoming war and the ongoing advances of James Potter threaten that. Daisy Evans, her twin, has other goals. Join the Evans sister’s as they make their way through Hogwarts, prepare for war and eventually find love.

Tags/ Warnings: My Writing, The Other Evans Girl, Sirius Black Fic, Sirius Black/You, Sirius Black x OFC, OFC, Marauders Fic, Eventual Sirius Black, Sirius Black x Reader Fic, Sirius Black Fic, James Potter is a bit of a dick but we LOVE it, Hogsmeade, Friends, Hate, Love, Angst, Fluff, Kissing, Implied Sex, Potters, Babies, Weddings, Dating, Friends to Loves, Slow Burn, Eventual Sirius and Daisy, Teenage Angst, Insecurities, Fighting, Arguing, Bullying, War, First Wizarding War, Marauders, Marauder’s Era, 1970’s, 1970s Fashion, Canon Character Deaths, Loss of Virginity, Crying, Voldemort, The Other Evans Girl, Marauders Era to war, Multiple Parts, GORE, injuries, harm, fighting, blood, The Potter’s Mansion // Daisy’s Dress

Notes: ask if you want tagging. Also i didnt want to do this but no one in hp has grandparents apparently like? why was petunia the only one left smh

LINK TO AO3 // LINK TO PINTEREST // LINK TO ALL PARTS

Sirius couldn’t sleep. He tried but every time he closed his eyes he thought of Daisy, running out of the dining room with no one following her. It didn’t help that James was laying next to him and sounded as if he was revving a chainsaw every time he breathed. After a while, he decided to get up and escape the room which was closing in on him by the minute. He couldn't go to find Daisy, he knew that, after all, Lily would be sleeping next to her and he felt uncomfortable trying to explain his presence at her sister's bedside in the middle of the night. Instead, he made his way downstairs and made himself a glass of water. After downing it in four big glugs he put the glass in the sink and made his way through into the drawing-room and looked out at the garden.

Though the Potter’s garden was large it was barren for most of the length of it. Mostly just a neatly manicured lawn hemmed in by trees that multiplied as it got to the orchard. But outside the house was a patio which was made up of furniture, a grill and an outside fire which to Sirius’ surprise was lit. And curled beside it in a patio chair was Daisy. Though Sirius couldn’t see her face her mop of blonde hair couldn't be mistaken.

Sirius heaved a sigh of relief. At least now he could check she was alright. He crept quietly out of the back doors smiling at her as she turned around after being disturbed. She smiled weakly back at him and then turned back to watch the fire as he slid onto the outdoor sofa opposite. He didn't talk, instead, he sat watching her hoping she would initiate the conversation. Her eyes were red and puffy from crying though she wasn't doing so now. As the fire popped and hissed in front of them they sat in comfortable silence until finally, she spoke.

It was barely more than a whisper but he heard her even so as she said, ‘I bet you’re fed up of me being dramatic huh?’ ‘What?’ Sirius said genuinely confused by the question. ‘Well, my outburst must have put a dampener on dinner no?’ ‘Not at all,’ Sirius said, ‘in fact, we were all worried if you were okay.’ She stayed quiet for a moment before responding. ‘I’m fine,’ she said meekly, ‘a bit embarrassed but nothing too bad.’ ‘Good, I’m glad.’ ‘I remembered something,’ she admitted. Sirius didn’t say anything but raised an eyebrow as if urging her to continue, ‘about mum and dad…it wasnt anything bad. In fact, it was quite nice.’ ‘That’s good,’ Sirius said. ‘Except it reminded me of last Christmas,’ she said. ‘Oh?’ Sirius said trying to sound nonchalant as his mind raked over last Christmas which they spent in the castle. He’d loved it.

‘Yeah, then I just sort of spiralled because it reminded me that I missed their last Christmas. My last family Christmas. And I didn’t have to, not really…I mean Madam Pomfrey told me to stay put but I still came here. I still enjoyed myself whilst they were probably worried sick about me. They didn’t see me for months and I’d practically been at death’s door. And I didn’t go home. I didn’t spend their last Christmas with them, what shitty person does that?’ she said spitefully. ‘You’re not a shitty person for not predicting the future Dais,’ Sirius said. ‘I didn’t predict the future but I took it for granted. I could’ve died that Halloween and I didn't even think about going home. Letting them make sure I was okay,’ she said. He could see the tears brimming in her eyes reflecting the fire in front of them.

‘You’re right,’ he said bluntly. Daisy looked at him with confusion as he started to elaborate, ‘you did take it for granted. And should you have gone home? Maybe. But would your parents have cared that you didn’t? Probably, because they love you. I spent time in your home remember Daisy and though yes you probably could’ve spent more time there, maybe spent their last Christmas with them but that didn't change how much they loved you. Dais, I felt more love between you and your family in the week I was there than I had felt in my house for the entire 15 years I lived there. Is it a shame they’re gone? Absolutely. I mean I’d trade my parents in a heartbeat for you.' ‘Pads,’ she said sadly. ‘What? I’m just being honest.’ ‘You say it like you haven't got a family,’ she said, ‘I mean what about me, Lil, the boys?’ ‘I know that…I also know that, sure, you missed your last Christmas with your parents but that wasn’t your last family Christmas. We’re family. Always will be,’ he smiled. She smiled back at him and then dropped her gaze, nervous to whisper the next bit, ‘Pads?’ ‘Mmmhmm?’ Sirius replied. ‘Can I have a hug?’ she said. Sirius didn't say anything so Daisy looked up and found him moving over and beckoning her to come to sit next to him. She moved and sat down beside smiling as he threw an arm around her and pulled her closer. She nestled into his side, her hand falling onto his thigh which caused electricity to buzz through him.

They stayed like that for quite a while though as the night wore on the air around them started getting bitter so much so the fire couldn’t stave it off any longer. Sirius didn't want to move but he could feel her shivering next to him and so he nudged her causing her to sit up and look at him. ‘I think we better go inside,’ Sirius mumbled. Daisy nodded and the pair got up walking back in through the double doors. Once inside Daisy’s shivering intensified as her body tried to get used to the warmth of the house. Sirius rubbed his hands along her arms trying to warm her up which made her smile. After a moment she dropped her gaze and mumbled his name.

‘Yeah?’ he said watching her in the moonlight. ‘Tomorrow, can we…I mean, I know James will have to because of well…I mean,’ she rambled. ‘The point Dais?’ he chuckled making her look at him and smile. ‘I was wondering if we could skip the party? I mean I understand if you don't want to miss it, I mean…actually forget it,’ she said. ‘Dais, it’s okay,’ he said grabbing her elbow so she couldn’t flee. ‘No, forget it I’m being silly.’ ‘If you want to skip it that’s fine. I don’t mind and I’m sure the others won’t either,’ Sirius said. ‘Really?’ she said biting her lip. ‘Yeah, and I don’t think the Potters will mind either.’ ‘It’s just all too much too soon,’ she said. Sirius nodded. ‘I get it,’ Sirius said, ‘leave it with me. I’ll sort it with Euphemia.’ ‘Thanks,’ she said before leaning into a give him a quick hug, ‘I really appreciate it.’

He didn't say anything but mumbled an agreement into the top of her head. As she pulled away she smiled and then left the room leaving Sirius standing there watching where she had just gone. If she didn’t want to go to the party he was going to bring the party to her.

#My Writing #The Other Evans Girl #Sirius Black Fic #Sirius Black/You #Sirius Black x OFC #OFC #Marauders Fic #Eventual Sirius Black #Sirius Black x Reader Fic #James Potter is a bit of a dick but we LOVE it #Hogsmeade #Friends #Hate #Love #Angst #Fluff #Kissing #Implied Sex #Potters #Babies #Weddings #Dating #Friends to Loves #Slow Burn #Eventual Sirius and Daisy #Teenage Angst #Insecurities #Fighting #Arguing #Bullying

[sweeethinny]

He and Harry had a fight last week... James said he didn’t like him anymore.’’ Ginny looked at her mother, looking a little sadder now. ‘’Harry cried.’ Would you consider writing their fight and then James Sirius apologizing? I was (re)reading this today and I just love it

thank you anon! you can also read it on AO3, if you want :)

the last part, is the content of the letter that james wanted to send to Harry, i hope you liked it! <3  PART 1, i think? idk, but the fanfic that anon referred to

Ginny didn't quite know what was going on when she got home, exhausted from yet another tiring day at work, with sexist coaches who didn't listen to what she had to say in the interviews, and other journalists who didn't care about the ideas she had proposed.

She did not expect to feel so miserable when she agreed to work on the Prophet.

But either way, she was happy that Harry managed to cut the workload that month, spending more time at home with the kids, especially now that James was six and started going to school, Teddy had just gone for Hogwarts, Albus was at a stage where he just wanted to be with his father, and Lily had her teeth born and was in a bad mood.

They hadn't had much of a problem with James at school so far, he had adapted, made friends, done homeworks, and was well controlled with his own magic, occasionally exploding or making things fly.

Nothing too dangerous and that they couldn't fix.

In the last week James' classes were suspended when 7 of the 12 children caught lice, luckily James was not one of them, so the boy seemed a little anxious about the sudden change in routine.

But today it looked like a war had broken out in the middle of their living room. Lily was taking all the clothes out of the clean laundry basket, Albus was on top of the trunk where they kept some old things, with his knee shredded and looking like he was waiting to make a dressing, while Harry and James argued beside him.

Ginny knew that the combination of her and Harry would make children easy to explode, but she realized that James had an extreme facility in getting Harry off track, much more so than Lily or Albus did. Albus knew how to irritate his brothers, and Lily only irritated them with her loud crying and childish antics like throwing things, but James was at that stage where he challenged his parents to find out how far he could go. Teddy had been there, too, but it was with Ginny that he could do it most easily.

However James seemed to know exactly what to do to have an angry Harry.

'James,' Harry asked, eyes closed as if asking for patience, it probably wasn't the first time they had had that conversation.

'I just wanted to fly!' James shouted angrily, his cheeks red.

'And didn't I tell you that you couldn't do that?' Harry countered, running a hand through his hair. 'How many times have I told you that neither you, or Albus, could fly alone?'

'But Albus was there because he wanted to! I didn't tell him to follow me.' The little one looked as furious as his father, his arms crossed in front of the small body just as Ginny did when she argued with someone. 'Why can Lily fly and I can't ?!'

'I was with her, she was not alone, you know that very well. I said that we could fly later, and that I would go with you- ’

'But you worked all day, and then the night would come and we would not be flying! Again!'

'James... You could have hurt Albus! Or hurt yourself.' Harry pointed out, looking as alarmed as if it had actually happened. As far as Ginny could see from the entrance to the Living Room, only Albus was a little hurt, and he didn't even seem to want to cry or anything.

'Oh, of course, if something happens to the precious Albus, it's the end of the world!' James threw his arms up, as if giving up, and before Harry was able to answer him, he shouted; 'I hate you!' And he ran off, tears streaming down his face as he climbed the stairs as fast as he could, his little legs not helping him to be too fast, but Harry didn't follow him either, which helped James get to the room and slam the door.

Harry sighed, hands on his tired face, and Ginny was still a little paralyzed at the door, thinking about what had happened. 'Mum!' Lily shouted, now sitting in the empty clothes basket, making the other two look at her.

'Hello my loves.' Ginny smiled going over to Albus and kissing him on the cheek, realizing how scared he looked. 'Hi my love, how are you?' She preferred to act as if she had just arrived, looking at his grated knee, still a little dirty with grass.

'Fine, I just fell.' He smiled, the little children's teeth a little dirty from what looked like chocolate.

'It'll be okay,' Ginny promised, casting a simple healing charm and placing him on the floor, before of course, she kissed the small scar that remained. Nothing too serious, but it was a tradition that helped them to be less afraid of when they needed to apply potions or other healing spells that were stronger.

They were a Weasley-Potter, after all, they were always falling.

'Hi my other love,' She smiled at Harry, hugging him, but realizing that he seemed a little reluctant to speak. He just smiled awkwardly, kissing her forehead and letting her go to be hugged by Lily, who had managed to topple the basket of clothes to be able to crawl out and run into her mother's arms. 'And my other love.'

'Hi mommy!' Lily cried awkwardly, hugging Ginny back, and hanging from her neck so she could be picked up.

'And where's my other love?' Harry sighed at her question, waving his wand and causing all the clothes to levitate, to be folded, and to go back into the basket.

'Up there,' Harry murmured. 'Do you take care of them? I'm going to prepare dinner.' Ginny nodded, lowering Lily to the sofa when Albus asked her to play with him and the Lego castle he had won from Percy.

‘Mommy, come and play with us!’ Albus asked, seeming not even to remember the fight between his father and brother anymore, amused by the pieces and teaching Lily how to stack the blocks too - even though she seemed willing to just destroy everything.

‘I’m coming, okay? Let me just go and say hi to James, and I'll be back here, okay?’ She promised, crouching in front of them, drawing all the attention to herself. ‘No mess and fights, Mom will be back.’

'Daddy and James fought,' Al whispered, as if it were a secret.

'Bad James,' Lily added, crossing her arms as she could, to look like her brother.

'They are just stressed, and he’s not bad. Now, I'll be right back.' Ginny left the room and went up to the second floor, still listening to the conversations between Albus and Lily, and the sounds of pots and dishes, much louder than usual, and she imagined that Harry was more angry at what he looked like while fighting with James.

Ginny knocked on the door to their eldest son's room, the photo hanging next to her made her smile, a picture of when they went ice skating, a few days before Teddy received the letter from Hogwarts, he and James were smiling from ear to ear. ear, while she and Harry still needed to hold hands to keep steady and not fall.

She hated it when she or Harry lost patience with their kids, when they got carried away by the tantrum. They should have known that the best thing to do when it happened was to just get away, let the kids scream alone for a few minutes, before they came back calmer and managed to talk to them.

'Hi my love,' Ginny murmured, opening the door and entering James's room, it was colder than usual inside, and maybe he had done accidental magic for this to happen and he could be hidden under the covers. 'It's Mommy.'

'I don't want to say anything.' James' voice was muffled by the pillow and the covers, but she could still tell that he was crying.

Ginny sat on the bed next to him, her hand on what she imagined was his shoulder. 'I heard that you and Daddy had a fight, is it true?'

'He hates me.' Ginny smiled sadly, denying and sighing.

'He doesn't hate you my love, and hating someone is a very strong thing to say, I promise you, he is just tired, and you need to help him a little too.'

'But he wasn't going to fly with me, and I just wanted to fly.' James uncoveredlooking at Ginny with brown eyes wet with tears. 'He only cares about Lily and Albus, he doesn't even love me anymore.'

'James, of course not, your father loves you very much, which is why he was concerned that you might get hurt. You know you can't fly alone, it's very dangerous.' She held out her arms for James to crawl onto her lap as if he were still a baby - for her, he always would be - and put him against her chest, cradling her body a little from side to side to calm his crying. 'Dad was just worried that you would get hurt. Besides, you are the older brother, and Lily is still very small and needs help to do a lot of things, just as Albus still needs more help. You are my big boy already, and you have to help them, and not go flying without authorization.’

'But he yelled at me.' James sobbed, holding Ginny's shirt in his hands, hiding his face like he did when he was a kid.

'Look, what Dad did was not right, but you didn't make it easy either. Both are wrong… Dad is having dinner, go take a shower, okay? I promise that tomorrow we can fly together.' James nodded, still glued to his mother, like a sloth clinging to a tree trunk. 'I love you my baby.'

'Me too,' he murmured, without further tears.

[...]

Dinner had been… tense, to say the least. Proving that he was Harry's son, James spent the whole dinner in silence, sullen, without even looking straight up, just as Harry was, determined to eat the lasagna without saying anything.

If it weren't for Albus chattering, and Lily trying to imitate him, they would have eaten entirely in silence.

After all the children were in their beds, sleeping soundly, and the house was quiet for another reason, Ginny lay on their bed, waiting for Harry to get out of the bath. They hadn't talked much, and he didn't even want to go shower with her, so she just waited, sitting on the bed while pretending to read the last pages of the romance Angelina gave her. Of course, the words didn't make much sense in her head, she couldn't concentrate, but she had to hide her nervousness.

When Harry finally got out of the shower, a towel wrapped around his waist, damp, messy hair, and still that sullen look, Ginny couldn't take it anymore; ‘Can you tell me what happened?’

Harry looked at her quickly over his shoulder, before entering their closet and disappearing, still in silence. Ginny can hear the drawers opening and closing, and then she can see Harry coming back from there wearing old shorts that almost didn't stop at his hip anymore. If he wasn't so sullen, she would try to ease the tension he carried on his broad, bare shoulders.

'He and I had a fight.' That was all he said, throwing himself on the bed next to her and covering himself, looking like he was about to go to sleep.

'It's not me you're mad at, don't be an idiot.' Ginny dropped the book on the nightstand, not turning off the lamp beside her, staring at Harry with determination.

He sighed, sitting up too. 'I was taking care of Lily, now that she is coming out of diapers it looks like she wants to pee every minute, and I asked him to keep Albus playing. They were in the garden, and James had already asked me to fly with him, but I was solving ten problems at the same time and making sure our daughter didn't pee on the couch, so I asked him to hope that later on maybe we could fly… But he is your son, after all, and he managed to break the lock on the shed and get a broom.' Ginny shouldn't laugh, she knew that, but she smiled, a little proudly. 'When I went down with Lily, I could only see Albus flying too, unbalanced, not much more than a meter from the ground, and James going up without control. There was no time and Al fell, but I had to make James levitate because the broom was very uncontrolled and he was unable to get it down.’

‘Harry…’

'It was my fault, I know, I shouldn't... I should have put a different lock on or I don't know, and,' He stopped, hiding his face with his hands again, denying. 'And I lost my temper because I had said that he couldn't fly alone, and Albus was crying on the ground and James looked scared when he realized he was too high... I shouldn't have screamed.'

'You were angry,' Ginny reminded him, realizing how sad Harry looked at this. ‘And worried.’

'But I should have known that when I forbidden him, he would try to do exactly what I said not to.'

'He's a child, Harry, of course he's going to do everything we say he can't.' She said what he usually said to her, when Ginny was worried about Teddy at Hogwarts after he spent two weeks without sending letters, even after she asked him to update them every week.

'He said he hates me, Ginny.' Harry finally looked at her, his eyes watering. Again, her heart broke.

‘Oh, Harry, of course not.’ This time, she didn’t wait for him to come to her embrace, as she did with James, Ginny preferred to hug Harry herself. 'He was just nervous.'

'I did everything wrong,' Harry denied, crying even more, as if he had held his emotions up until now, as if just inside their room was a safe place for him to finally let go. 'He didn't say it like it was nothing, I saw Gin, I saw that he was upset, he meant it.'

'He didn't want to, of course not..Look at me, no, no, Harry, look at me...He doesn't hate you, and you didn't do everything wrong, I probably would have done the same thing, you're just tired.' Ginny stared at him, forcing him to look at her too, her hands holding his face, tears streaming down his cheeks. 'You are the best father they could have, the best I could have chosen to be their father, you will see, tomorrow you will be calmer and everything will be fine.'

'I hate to fight with them.' Harry hid his face on her neck, tears wetting Ginny's skin, his hands tightening on her waist as if to make sure she stayed there, with him. ‘I don’t like them to cry because of me.’

'It's the side that nobody tells you about being parents, love.' She laughed softly, trying to calm the mood. 'But he doesn't hate you, I promise you that... I'm sure you are still his hero, and the person he loves the most in this whole world. You are not a bad father.’

[...]

The next morning, Harry got up first, he heard noises downstairs and knew that probably one of the children was already awake and wanting to make a mess. Passing through the rooms just to check, he saw that Albus was still asleep, and that Lily seemed far from waking up, but James' bed was empty, which wasn't too strange, since the boy seemed to still be keeping up with his early morning routine to go to school, even in that week of recess.

He heard footsteps as he approached the kitchen, an owl hooting loudly at the window, and low murmurs. ‘Stay still.’

'James?' Harry watched as his son tried to tie the letter to the animal's leg, which was trying to get away from him. James was on top of a chair, leaning over the counter, trying to pull Pandora’s closer.

‘Dad!’ Pandora flew away with his cry, without the letter, seeming to frustrate the boy.

'What are you doing? Who do you want to send a letter to?’ Harry was careful to move towards James, but he was happy when his son accepted his arms to come down. He still felt guilty.

'Hm... for you.' James looked at the floor, looking embarrassed.

'Me?' Harry knelt in front of him, staying in his line of sight. ‘Why don’t you just give it to me?’

'I thought it would take you longer to wake up.'

'I heard you coming down the stairs,' Harry said, looking into his son's eyes.

'Are you still mad at me?' James asked quietly, holding the letter tightly in his hand.

‘No, my love… I’m sorry for yesterday, I didn’t want to yell at you, I was nervous and I was worried that you might get hurt.’

'I'm sorry for flying without permission, and I didn't want Albus to have followed me for this either, I didn't see him.' James said. Harry felt so bad all night, unable to sleep in peace, conscience weighed down by having yelled at James, thinking about how sad he looked when he said he hated him.

'It was very risky, you could have been seriously injured.' The two looked at each other, Harry pulled his son close to him. ‘I don’t want you to do it again, okay? You can fly, but only with me or mom, never alone.' He whispered against the boy's hair, hugging him tightly, as if that alone could heal the pain he had felt.

'I didn't mean to say that I hated you, either.' James hugged Harry back, looking sly. ‘I don’t hate you.’

'I love you, Jamie. A lot.' He planted a kiss on his son's head, not caring for the tears that seemed to want to appear in the corner of his eyes.

‘Me too, Dad.’

-----

''Dad,

I'm sorry for yelling at you, it wasn't my intention. I don't hate you, I was just nervous, I'm sorry again.

Love you

James.''

#hinny #harry x ginny #next gen #james sirius potter #harry potter #ginny weasley #hinny headcanon #harry and ginny #next gen harry potter

[angelicamerlinbarnes]

Fifteen people who found out about James, Sirius, and Remus and the one person who never did

To clarify: James, Sirius, and Remus are queerplatonic partners in this case, or QPP's. This means that they're essentially special friends, ones who indulge in physical and emotional connections that are typically thought of as beyond platonic.

ONE: Peter Pettigrew

By fourth year the Marauders are legends. Everyone knows them as the fun-loving band of brothers without any cares in the world. Only the four of them know the true nature of the Marauders - bloody, battered, and bruised.

One day Sirius and James are fighting, an explosive sort of argument where Peter hides behind his curtains while peeking out through a crack in them and Remus reads calmly on his bed. Then suddenly the shouting stops, and Peter’s jaw drops open while Remus looks up from his book.

There, in the middle of the room, are Sirius and James, Sirius’ hands on James’ face and his mouth on his lips. Sirius pulls away before James can respond, covering his mouth with his hands and tearing up while James blinks in shock and Peter stares.

Then, Remus starts laughing, and James drags Sirius into a crushing hug, pressing kisses all over his face before finally pecking him on the mouth and then letting go. Peter squeaks out a garbled question when Remus rolls his eyes and says, “What, no love for me?”

Immediately, Sirius and James tackle him onto the bed, the three of them collapsing into a mess of laughter and kisses while Peter stares and stares and stares.

TWO: Marlene McKinnon

In an act of drunken desperation to forget her own confusing sexuality (girls are super hot but the idea of being in love makes me wanna throw up, for reference), Marlene flirts with Sirius at a party. His eyes are dark and alluring and he’s addicted to dancing, so it’s not exactly difficult. But just as her hand snakes up his arm, Remus appears, wrapping himself around Sirius and kissing him happily, Sirius melting against him.

Marlene steps back in her shock, creating just enough room for James to stumble over tipsily and start making fun of Sirius’ ears; that is until Sirius leans down and kisses him too just to shut him up, pulling back with a laugh so loud it rings in Marlene’s ears as she runs for the comfort of Dorcas, who simply smiles and slips her hand through Marlene’s blonde curls and kisses her until she can’t feel anything anymore.

THREE: Minvera Mcgonogall

In fifth year, Mcgonogall is awoken by a bawling James Potter at her door, sobbing uncontrollably and blubbering about something she can’t really understand. Eventually he calms down enough that she manages to get that he’s upset because he just found out that Sirius and Remus are dating.

Mcgonogall is terribly confused - haven’t the three of them been dating for years?

“No,” James says. “We’re just friends. Friends who kiss and love each other more than anything but aren’t in love with each other. I know… I know that doesn’t really make sense. I’m just… I’m just scared that since they’re boyfriends, or whatever, they won’t… they won’t…”

Mcgonogall opens her mouth to respond when Sirius’ voice cuts through the chaos -

“Won’t what? Love you? Because if you think that my being in love with Moony means I’m going to stop snogging you at every available opportunity then you’re an even bigger idiot than I thought, Jamie.”

James looks up with a grin even as the tears still stream down his face, taking in the sight of a grinning Sirius and Remus, whose hands are tightly clasped between them. Mcgonogall watches, blinking in shock, as James bounds over to them and laughs as Sirius dips him in a kiss and Remus rolls his eyes.

“Come on, you morons,” he says, dragging them away as Sirius tries and fails to kiss him silly, laughing.

FOUR: Severus Snape

Sixth year is when shit first hits the fan. The Prank is a tear in their carefully cultivated tapestry, one that sends all three of them exploding in different directions. Severus is on his way to the infirmary for some more dreamless potion from Madam Pomfrey (and to check on Remus after the traumatic mindfuck that was last night’s full moon) when he sees the shitshow begin.

Remus is lying in a hospital bed, confined by bandages and fatigue but looking no less terrifying as he bites insult after insult towards Sirius. (The only one of these Severus remembers is “I thought you loved me, asshole!”, and only because Sirius had fled the room in tears after it was spoken.) James tries to sit down at Remus’ bedside, but before he can Remus breaks down in tears.

James reaches out to hold him, but Remus shoves him away, screaming until James leaves, his head hanging low in defeat. Severus approaches carefully, holding out one of his bottles of dreamless sleep.

“Here,” he says softly. “So you can forget, for a little while.”

Remus looks up at him and smiles weakly.

“Thanks,” he rasps, and Severus leaves with a nod, deciding it’s better to quit while he’s ahead.

FIVE: Lily Evans

Despite all of the horror of the Prank, it is less disastrous than one might think. There is a war coming; Severus has sworn to Remus himself that he will never tell and has also started searching for the cure for lycanthropy while he’s at it (not that he’s found it; he never will); and Sirius Black and Remus Lupin love each other more than words can say and will no matter the consequences, everybody knows that.

And Lily, she misses Severus - no one else understands that, but she does. She loves him.

She’s studying with Remus one day, their backs against the wall and knees to their chests, and ends up asking him how Severus is doing, eventually winding them down a conversational path about lost love and finding hope anyway. Remus, however, collapses into tears talking about Sirius and how much he misses him and loves him, still.

Lily doesn’t know what to do; Remus Lupin does not cry, at least not in front of anyone. Before she can panic too badly about it though, James is there, on his knees in front of Remus and whispering quietly to him, taking his hands and kissing his knuckles in between murmurs of affection. Sirius stands behind him, hands clenching in and out of fists as he tries desperately not to touch, but that only lasts a few moments before Remus is laughing through his tears, making grabby hands for Sirius.

Sirius squats down hesitantly, gently wrapping his arms around Remus, who pulls him down by the neck and jaw and kisses him and kisses him and kisses him as James smiles tiredly, passerbys whoop and stare, and Lily looks at James and feels her heart flutter in her chest. He smiles at her, and she flushes, then stands and heads for the opposite corner, where Severus is leaning against the wall, his nose in a book.

No words are needed between them. She pulls him in by the tie, and there’s a single feeble whoop for them, too - Lily smiles at the sound of James’ voice, hope sparking in her chest as her eyelids flutter closed.

SIX: Regulus Black

Regulus, struggling under his parents’ stifling regime alone since Sirius left, can’t say he’s not shocked when Sirius drags him up to a Marauders sleepover in the Gryffindor dorms one night. Peter isn’t there - Remus says he’s staying with a Hufflepuff named Max he’s into - but Remus, Sirius, and James all gravitate towards one bed, Remus lying on his back with James’ head on his stomach, running his fingers lazily through James’ curls.

Sirius beams at the sight of them and jumps in beside them, and James leans up and pecks Sirius on the mouth, who smiles. Regulus’ heart twinges at the sight - his brother has so much more love than he does, and Regulus won’t deny that he’s always been just a little bit in love with James Potter - but then James smiles at him with those twinkling eyes and Regulus’ heart calms.

Sirius draws him close by the hand, pulling him into his side and kissing the top of his head. They laugh and wrestle and joke around until eventually Remus falls asleep in James’ arms, and James is not long to follow. Regulus lies awake long after, nestled into Sirius’ side, the silence comforting like a warm blanket. Until Sirius murmurs, “I love you, Reggie,” and drifts off, and Regulus is left staring at the ceiling, alone.

He knows, Sirius’ hand over his heart, that this is his brother’s way of saying goodbye.

SEVEN: Hope & Lyall Lupin

“Criminals” is not a word Lyall Lupin would use to describe Sirius Black and James Potter, but maybe it should be. Because they break into his house on Christmas Eve the boys’ seventh year, the moon already rising in the sky. Lyall tries to stop them, but Sirius Stupefies him with cold eyes and transforms into a hulking dog right then and there, trotting down the basement stairs as James follows, breaking Remus’ chains with his human hands and ushering him out the door before taking his stag form.

Lyall and Hope watch in shock from the kitchen as Remus turns and Sirius and James tame him easily, the wolf nuzzling them like old friends. By morning, they are still out in the yard, the sun rising, now fully human. At first Lyall worries for his son’s modesty, but Sirius has already wrapped his shirt around Remus’ waist, and Remus, barechested in the sun, is holding James’ head to his, muttering in Welsh as James tries desperately to breathe, apologizing over and over for a gash on Remus’ chest put there by his antlers. Remus smiles, and Sirius hums a Queen song under his breath, and Lyall can’t hear everything his son is saying but he catches just enough -

“Mae'n iawn, fy nghariad. Shhh, annwyl.” (It's alright, my love. Shhh, dearheart.)

EIGHT: Albus Dumbledore

The news that Regulus has died comes on a Wednesday. Dumbledore is the one to deliver it, with a heavy heart and a heavier theory in his head. He notices that James is there, in Sirius and Remus’ home, but does not question it, only offering the story of the Horcruxes to Sirius, who sits on the couch. As the words pour out, dry and frail, Sirius’ face pales to ghostly white. Remus emerges from the kitchen with tea just as the final phrase leaves Dumbledore’s lips -

“Your brother died a hero.”

The tea clatters to the floor as Sirius reaches for his wand on the table, pointing it towards his head and getting out “Avada -” before James and Remus are on him, James wrenching his wand away while Remus locks Sirius in his arms, gently coaxing him down onto the floor and rocking him back and forth as he breaks down. James returns from hiding the wand and wraps himself around the both of them, breaking down with Sirius and pressing tearful kisses to every inch of skin he can find. Remus looks up at Dumbledore with glassy eyes and says -

“Please take your leave, Professor.”

Dumbfounded, Dumbledore does.

NINE: Dorcas Meadowes

Dorcas has lived with Marlene since school - Dorcas was in love with her, and Marlene liked sex and liked Dorcas in a “we can be best-friend-partner-lovers forever, mkay?” way. But no one else can understand that - the fact that they’re physically intimate but not a couple, that they’re married by law and spirit but not in love, that’s not something anybody gets. So when Marlene dies, Dorcas locks herself in their home, for grief and madness alike.

One day, Sirius comes to visit her. She doesn’t know why - Lily is about to have a baby, Voldemort is specifically targeting the Potters, their husband Snape is a fucking spy, and Remus is undercover amongst the wolves. All this and there’s a traitor in their midst - Sirius has no business visiting a grieving woman when there’s a war on.

But war there is, and visit he does.

Dorcas makes him tea, and they converse quietly about Marlene for a time. It’s when Sirius’ apology comes that she snaps -

“You can’t possibly understand what it’s like to lose her. She’s - she was my everything. My other half, a part of me, my - my wife. Not just a friend but not a lover… well, not in anything but the physical sense anyway, but - she was my life.”

Sirius stands, throwing his hands out to the side.

“You think I don’t understand?” He says, laughing and running a hand through his hair. He blinks back tears, then thrusts his left hand her way. “I know exactly what you’re feeling. That grief, that fear, I - I feel that every day.”

Dorcas shakes her head, batting his hand away.

“Remus is the love of your life, not your - your, I don’t know, partner? You can’t -”

“James,” Sirius interrupts, desperately, and Dorcas shuts up. “Jamie. My Jamie. Well - Remus and I’s Jamie, really.”

He smiles - a broken, broken thing.

“I understand, see?” He says, twisting his wedding ring around so instead of a moon it shows a black set of antlers. “See? I know. I understand. I do.”

Dorcas stares, quietly, and then starts laughing. It’s a foreign, unwelcome sound, and Sirius reels back in shock. They stand there, opposing each other, until suddenly the laughs ebb out into sobs, and Sirius pulls her to his front and doesn’t let go.

TEN: Mary MacDonald

The day Harry is born, Severus isn’t even there. He’s deep into Voldemort’s forces by now, only holding contact with Dumbledore out of necessity, and James and Lily are both exhausted, missing their husband with a newfound intensity and knowing Voldemort wants to kill their newborn son. Sirius and Remus are there, Mary too, and as Lily sleeps with Harry on her chest and Mary holds her hand, Sirius and James fight.

Loudly.

(In the hallway, of course, but still.)

Remus is helpless in between them - Mary hears very little of what is actually said. Bits and pieces here and there -

“You can’t protect him by -”

And “We need you, dipshit!”

And “I swear to fucking Merlin, Jamie -”

But nothing really solid. She watches through the window as they scream, until suddenly Remus reaches out and pulls James into a kiss. Mary drops Lily’s hand in shock, and watches with a gaping mouth as Remus lets go of James to pull Sirius into him, kissing him passionately and without reserve. Finally, when he pulls away, he glares at the two men and seethes something just loud enough for her to hear -

“Listen up, you idiots. That child needs our protection. That means hiding. We know fuck all about the future but this is war. Our baby is not gonna die because the people who love him can’t let him go.”

Sirius and James both nod sagely, James leaning in to peck Remus on the mouth - “Sorry, Remy.” - before he wanders back inside the hospital room. Outside, Remus collapses into Sirius’ arms, the two of them holding each other and rocking back and forth. James looks up at Mary from the other side of Lily’s bed and smiles wryly.

“Shit, huh?” He mutters, and Mary, speechless, nods.

ELEVEN: Fleamont & Euphemia Potter

Fleamont and Euphemia Potter go into hiding when James and Lily do, knowing they could be tortured for their whereabouts despite not knowing them. Remus comes bursting through their fireplace on Halloween, covered in cuts and bruises and coughing with baby Harry cradled against his chest. Through hacking breaths and with glassy eyes, he tells them their son is dead with his wife and Sirius has been arrested for their murder, along with Peter’s and some Muggles’. He kisses their foreheads and tells them to take care of themselves, leaving with the last words he ever says to them -

“I loved your son. So did Sirius. We - I will do everything I can to protect Harry. I promise.”

He disappears through the fireplace before they can respond, leaving them to grieve.

TWELVE: Walburga & Orion Black

After leaving Harry with Dumbledore, who assures him the child will be given to the custody of his living father as soon as he’s emerged from his undercover work (a lie, Remus later learns), Remus makes his way to Regulus’ grave. There’s no body there, of course, but Remus never got to say goodbye to the boy he considered something of a son, and he figures now, when he’s lost everything, is as good a time as any.

It turns out he’s not alone - Walburga and Orion Black, not yet locked up in Azkaban for their crimes, are there already, and spit in his face for daring to grieve their son when he’s a werewolf who supposedly turned their other one queer and heady. Remus stares them down, and in a calm voice with his hands in his pockets tells them -

“I loved Regulus like a brother. As for Sirius… well, he married two blokes. Oh -” He smirks. “And he was damn good in bed, too.”

Walburga lets out a shrill scream, turning her wand on Remus, and he holds his head high as he disarms both her and her husband and promptly kills the two people who made his husband’s life a living hell for sixteen years. As he stands there, staring at their still-warm bodies and always-cold eyes, he can feel no remorse - only a deep ache, loss and regret plaguing him with age long before his time.

THIRTEEN: Molly & Arthur Weasley

Twelve years pass without so much as a breath from Sirius or Remus. James is six feet under and Harry is thirteen, and after the havoc that occurs at Hogwarts his third year, they settle at Grimmauld Place, together. Molly and Arthur are tasked with bringing them essentials and information, and take notice of the fact that the two rarely leave each other’s sides. They’re wearing their wedding bands, which Molly does not fail to notice are marked with antlers as well as moons and pawprints, and Remus has another ring around a chain on his neck with only a pawprint and a moon. They look tired and worn out, Sirius more than Remus, and one day Molly pulls him aside to ask him privately if they’re doing alright.

Remus gives her a wry smile, his eyes twinkling just the slightest bit as he answers, “Yes. Of course.” Molly asks him again, saying she’s worried, and Remus shrugs, looking through doorways to Sirius, at the table with Arthur.

“I’ve had twelve years to grieve. Getting Sirius - getting my husband back was the greatest happiness I could ever ask for. But Sirius, he… he was never allowed to truly mourn. He’s still…”

He gets this distant look in his eyes and startles when Molly touches his arm, offering a small smile.

“I’ve had time to grieve our partner, is all I’m saying,” he murmurs. “Sirius needs time before he can even begin to forgive himself for what happened to James.”

Molly keeps her shock inward, squeezing Remus’ arm once before ushering her husband out the door. Watching from outside as Grimmauld Place folds back into itself, she thinks she sees two silhouettes in the window, melting into one.

FOURTEEN: Nymphadora Tonks

Nymphadora Tonks falls in love with Remus Lupin almost the moment she meets him. He’s handsome, he’s funny, he’s kind and smart and brave - what else could you want? And she thinks he likes her too - even if her cousin is desperately in love with him, which she would have to be blind not to see. But she knows this the way she knows the rhythm of her heartbeat in her chest - Remus Lupin was born to be hers.

So imagine her surprise when his response to her confession is to shake his head and laugh.

“I’m a married man, Dora,” he drawls, standing and flashing his ring towards her around a glass of whiskey. “I thought you knew that. I am sorry to say I cannot return your feelings… beyond my marriage, age, and lycanthropy, you must have noticed that women are not… my area.”

Tonks flushes red, jerking back in shock. So her cousin…

“Is it Sirius?” She blurts, and Remus turns towards her again, his eyes twinkling. He nods.

“Yes,” he answers. “Though, I had a second husband… long ago, and a partner more than anything…”

With a distant look in his eyes, he leaves her heartbroken at the dining room table, but not before she sees him slip into a waiting Sirius’ arms, holding him close to his chest as they dance, their eyes closed and two rings bearing antlers hanging between them.

FIFTEEN: Hermione Granger

She starts to wonder, right around the beginning of her fifth year, why Harry seems to have no interest in hanging out with anyone besides her and Ron. Now, she and Ron, they’re in love with each other; Hermione’s neither daft nor blind. But Harry’s in love with them both too, she realizes, and his closest relationships outside of that are past platonic but far from romantic: she can’t call what he has with Luna or Draco “normal”. The summer before her sixth year, she travels to Grimmauld Place, needing some time alone to think before the war envelopes them all. But she finds, when she arrives, that she’s not alone - there, at the dining room table, is Remus, holding a glass of whiskey and wearing three identical rings on a chain around his neck.

“Professor Lupin?” She asks, and Remus smiles wryly. “What’re you doing here?”

Remus sighs, leaving his glass on the table as he stands and grabs his coat.

“Just a bit of reminiscing, my dear,” he says. “No matter. Off we go now, this place belongs to Harry and we have no right to…”

He trails off, his eyes glistening, and Hermione watches his Adam’s apple bob and averts her eyes to the rings, each holding a different two of three symbols: a pawprint, a moon, and a pair of antlers. One of them is the one Sirius used to wear around, always a little loose on his finger from all that malnourishment… Remus must have just grasped it before he fell through the Veil. At the thought, her breath catches in her throat.

“Sirius was your…” She says, and stops when Remus flinches. He gives her a kind smile and nods.

“Yes,” he says. “And James as well, though that was different. More of a… friend, partner - soulmate? -” Hermione coughs. “- than a lover. But, yes. Not that it matters now.”

Hermione’s heart stops in her chest.

“Of course it matters,” she fires back. “You loved him. You loved him, and he’s dead.”

Remus looks down at her, his smile gone, and shrugs.

“All things end, Hermione,” he murmurs. “Especially good things.”

He opens the door and has one foot outside when he turns back to her and says, “Miss Granger?” She looks up at him from her hands, shaking and devoid of rings, and nods.

“Yes?”

Remus smiles, his eyes sad.

“Tell your Harry we love him. All seven of the Marauders, even if some of us never really got to meet him. And tell him… tell him that even if he didn’t die for him or raise him, his father loves him.”

Hermione’s brow furrows, but she nods.

“Of course,” she promises, though she has no idea who the other three Marauders are and could not even begin to guess what Remus means by his comment on Harry’s father. “I will.”

Remus smiles one last time, tips his invisible hat to her, and disappears out the front door and into the night.

ONE: Harry Potter

Remus marries Tonks, but doesn’t love her. Teddy is an accident, and only his in name. Remus will only ever have one son, and his name is Harry Potter.

In the Battle of Hogwarts, Remus Lupin dies with three rings around his neck and a secret in his chest. He does not tell Harry. He doesn’t want to burden him.

Their love, along with them, is dead and gone anyway. But when he sees Sirius and James in the white light, for the split second between life and death -

He wonders.

#wolfstar #queerplatonic wolfstarbucks #james &x sirius &x remus #james x lily x severus #unrequited jegulus #dorcas &x marlene #harry x ron x hermione #harry &x draco #harry &x luna #sirius & regulus #sirius & remus & harry #sirius black #remus lupin #james potter #marauders #harry potter #i don't know what this is #self-indulgent? #whatever #have a nice day y'all #i guess

[banrionceallach]

Reverse AU Crowley/Harry Omens Short

This will only make sense if you’ve read both my main fic and my scraps on AO3. Posting it anyway.

Raphael is still here.

He is still here and he keeps smiling at Aziraphale all the time.

Aziraphale keeps smiling back.

Crowley hates it.

He is not jealous, he tells himself, as he watches Raphael sit on a couch in the back of the bookshop. Raphael is currently pouring over an arcane text that Aziraphale thinks might solve the ‘angel from an alternate universe’ problem.

Crowley has known Aziraphale for six thousand years. He has argued and dined with and gotten drunk with the angel innumerable times. They’re best friends. Aziraphale walked into hell for him and sassed Michael into the bargain. He knows Aziraphale loves him. They are raising (another) child together, for Someone’s sake.  Some alternate universe angel is not going to change that.

Even if he is basically a better version of Crowley.

Stupid angelic tosser. With his stupid round pupils and his stupid white wings and his stupid long braided hair that Aziraphale spent a whole minute complimenting after lunch.

( It is just possible that Crowley is trying to grow his hair out as quickly and discreetly as possible.)

Currently Crowley is alone with the Archangel Bloody Raphael, because the aforementioned child that Crowley and his angel are raising together had a sleepover with the former antichrist and Aziraphale has gone to Tadfield to pick him up and also consult the local witch on their Alternate Universe Angel problem. Normally picking up Harry from a friend’s house is something Crowley does in the Bentley, but today the knowledge that that would have left Aziraphale alone with Raphael for over an hour had made him strongly suggest that Aziraphale should go, and use the opportunity to consult the witch.

Crowley really hopes Book Girl has something. He doesn’t know how much more of the archangel’s presence he can take without jumping across the room and trying to claw his stupid perfect eyes out.

He notices the other red-head has put down his book and is looking at him with narrowed eyes.

“What are you looking at?” he demands.

Raphael shrugs innocently. “I was just surprised you didn’t go to Tadfield instead of Aziraphale.” He waves a hand at the piles of esoteric text cluttered around the room. “It would have been more efficient for you to bring Anathema here while we continued to research, wouldn’t it?”

“Leaving Aziraphale alone with you?” Crowley snaps, with rather more honesty than he prefers. “Not likely!”

Raphael arches a fine auburn eyebrow. “Are you always this possessive?” he asks and damn him, there is actual genuine concern in his tone. Who is he to be concerned about Aziraphale? He has his own version, yes? That he should be wanting to get back to? A tiny part of Crowley still doubts that. He can’t imagine a demon Aziraphale, can’t imagine Aziraphale Falling.

It hurts to think about.

“Possessive?” Crowley sputters, wrenching his mind away from the possibility of a horrified spiral into guilt. “I am not!”

And the thing is, he isn’t. Not usually. But of course, it occurs to him, it’s been rather easy to not be possessive when he can be safe in the knowledge that no one else on the planet has a hope of competing for Aziraphale’s affection. Not humans, not other demons, definitely not other angels.

Except now, there is another angel. An angel who never fell, still bathing in Her favour. With Crowley’s face. And, key point, without the more demonic attributes caused by the Fall.

He is polite and gentle and exudes a puppy-like bouncy enthusiasm and he keeps smiling at Aziraphale and Crowley hates everything about him.

“Really?”

“Really,” Crowley snaps back, baring his fangs. “I am concerned for his safety. For all I know, this could still be some trick by Above and Below to attack us. You could be in on it.”

“You really are very suspicious, aren’t you?” Raphael says, grinning like Crowley has just said something amusing.

“Demon,” Crowley snaps. “Goes with the job description. Suspicious, sly, evil demon.” He notes with satisfaction that his blunt reference to his status makes Raphael go pale and twitch slightly. Good.

“You’re not that demonic,” Raphael says softly after a moment, giving him a considering look. “I think Azirafell is worse. Better, I mean. At demoning.”

This is too much.

Crowley snarls and surges to his feet. “I,” he hisses, “am the Serpent in the Garden. The Fall of Man? Humanity exiled from Eden never to return? That was me. For six-thousand years I was Hell’s favourite demon. Don’t go thinking I am soft!”

Of course, it’s at this moment that Harry runs into the room, having just got back from Tadfield. “Dad! Dad! Is it true?”

Crowley draws his fangs back in so fast there’s an almost audible click. “Is what true?”

Harry is about to reply when he spots Raphael. Raphael stares at him, wide-eyed. Harry stares back, fascinated.

“Wow,” the nearly-thirteen-year-old breathes. “You really do look just like Dad! Weird!” Then Harry frowns. “Why don’t you have the cool eyes, though?”

Crowley flips from cursing Harry’s sense of timing to grinning widely. He and his angel have the Best Son. Objectively. It is fact.

Raphael makes a strangled noise. “Dad?” he manages to wheeze, still staring at Harry.

They had not mentioned Harry up until now as a precaution. Just in case Raphael was part of a plot against them. Watching Raphael almost choke in shock, Crowley is extra glad they’d not mentioned the young wizard.

He still has to squash the urge to snap ‘yes, this is our son’ in his most smug tone of voice. Crowley loves Harry and is not under any circumstances going to use him to score against the annoying stupid archangel who will be punted back to his own universe as soon as possible.

So instead he just waves, wiggling his fingers insouciantly at the Archangel. “That’s me.”

(It’s also Aziraphale, as well as James Potter, sadly deceased. People who start talking to Harry when he mentions his father soon learn to be alert for context clues.)

Raphael coughs, clearing his throat. “You’ve . . . adopted a child?” he says weakly.

“That’s right,” beams Aziraphale, who has just walked into the room behind Harry.

“Stole,” Crowley corrects. “We stole him. Evil, remember.”

“More like rescued,” says Harry, the little traitor. Raphael gives him a watery smile.

It turns out that (to Crowley’s great relief) Aziraphale has brought back a way to get Raphael home. Unfortunately, the ritual to do it takes hours to set up.

Raphael spends most of that time trying not to stare at Harry. He doesn’t really succeed.

Eventually, since they are now guaranteed to be archangel-free very soon, Crowley grudgingly explains how Harry came to be living with them.

Raphael is appalled.

“What do you mean, this headmaster knew and just left him with those people for ten years?” he hisses, his golden eyes narrow with outrage.

“He’d convinced himself that the blood ward was the only resort,” Aziraphale explains.

“Bullshit,” snaps Raphael and for a second Crowley almost likes him.

“Quite,” Aziraphale says. “We were less than happy with the state of affairs ourselves.”

“No kidding,” the archangel mutters.  Right,” he says decisively. “Is that circle ready to get me home? I need to take a quick trip to Surrey. Just to check on something.”

It is possible, Crowley thinks, as Raphael steps into the circle and disappears in a flash, that the archangel will find that there is no alternate Harry. Or perhaps there’s no alternate Voldemort. Or Dumbledore. Who knows?

***

Harry Potter, aged almost thirteen, ran from Number 4 Privet Drive, his suitcase and his owl’s travelling cage thumping beside him. His could feel his heart jumping in his chest. He had never been so angry in his life. Why had he listened to Aunt Marge? Why hadn’t he done the smart thing and excused himself to the loo when she’d started to talk?

What was he going to do now?

A noise and sudden light, caught his attention. It was a car, approaching fast. When it reached Harry, it skidded to a stop. He backed away, fumbling for his wand.

Then the passenger’s window rolled down, and a man’s head emerged. “Hello,” the man said in a cheerful voice. “Harry, isn’t it?”

Harry gasped and backed away further.

“Look,” said the man, “I don’t normally get involved in these things, but my friend here” – he waved vaguely towards the driver, a man with long waves of red hair- “seems to think you need help.” The man squinted at Harry. “And from the looks of it, he’s right.”

An enraged roar, familiar to Harry, echoed out of the night.

Uncle Vernon, furious and getting closer.

“Alright,” said the driver, speaking for the first time, “that’s enough of that.”

Harry heard the sound of clicking fingers and suddenly found himself in the car’s back seat with Hedwig’s cage next to him. His seatbelt had already fastened itself. The big black dog, which he’d almost tripped over earlier, was sitting on the car floor and looking extremely puzzled.

“Really dear,” said the man in the passenger seat to the driver as the car sped off, Vernon Dursley’s furious shouts receding into the distance “Did you have to bring the dog too?”

“Yep. He’s a good dog.”

Harry swallowed and finally managed to speak. “People will come looking for me,” he said, trying to sound more confident than he felt.

The man in the passenger seat smiled at him. “Well I do hope so, my boy.” He nodded towards his friend. “Raf here is quite keen to give Albus Dumbledore a piece of his mind.”

#Good Omens #Harry Potter #Reverse Omens #Crossover crossover #because it makes me happy