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#realized too late I spelled dolores’ name wrong
pandora-spockz · 2 years
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Encanto Characters as John Mulaney Quotes
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Pepa
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Bruno
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Julieta
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Augustín
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Camilo
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Antonio
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Isabela
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Luisa
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dracowars · 3 years
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i read your first request and it’s AMAZING!! i loved it soo much, so i was wondering if you could write smth where y/n is dracos gf - they meet in his dorm room after class, but one day she’s super late and acting really weird, draco doesn’t bother, tries to comfort her, and maybe get a lil steamy, but she doesn’t want to.. he then discovers scaring on her hand, and she tells him that crabble sent her to umbridge for doing smth bad.. you can decide on the plot, those are just some ideas! xx
engraved | draco malfoy
pairing: draco x slytherin!reader
word count: 3,0k
summary: where y/n's visit to the new headmistress leads to a heated argument with draco
a/n: thank you very much for your kind words and for requesting, i really hope that you like it <3
warnings: a little steamy, angst, mentions of blood
universe: harry potter
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Trying to hold back the tears, you run down the sparse torch-lit corridors of Hogwarts, your footsteps echoing from the thick stone walls around you creating the only other sound besides your soft sobs. You press your left hand against your chest while you burst into the closest girls' bathroom, which is completely empty at this time, especially since Dolores Umbridge is in charge of the rules here.
It has been less than a month since she crept into school as the new headmistress and everything is already upside down. Students are allowed to walk around at a certain time only, detours between lessons are not acceptable at all, couples are almost no longer allowed to exist and actually, just all kind of fun and joy at Hogwarts has been extingusihed by her rules.
However, worst of all are the punishments for breaking any of Umbridge's thousand rules. Recently she has founded the so-called Inquisitorial Squad, a select group of students who help her to locate every kind of violations happening around the school. They sneak around the hallways on their hourly tours at night and report every so tiny thing to their new boss immediately. Most of these students are, of course, Slytherin's. Your boyfriend Draco was also offered to become a part of this squad, which he gladly accepted and was named its leader. You exactly know how perfect Draco fits into the role of the bad and ruthless leader, but still, you weren't very happy about it. After all, this woman is currently destroying your second home and he is helping her in a certain way.
Being the girlfriend of the Inquisitorial Squad's leader made you think that nothing can harm you, but oh, you were terribly wrong. Usually by this time in the early evening after your last course in Transfiguration you would already be in Draco's prefect dorm room, cuddling on his bed and just talking about your day. Because of the new established rules, you have to sneak into his room, trying to not get caught, but so far it has not been a very big problem. Even if someone of the other Slytherin's catches you, they will be far too scared of Draco to report it. But unfortunately everything took a different turn today.
During your Transfiguration lesson you had to admit that you forgot to do your homework, something that doesn't happen often but the current situation in Hogwarts burdens everyone, even the teachers, and on top of that you also came too late. Not that McGonagall was mad at you or anything, you are one of her best students after all, and a simple warning that it should not happen again was enough punishment in her opinion. Unluckily for you, Vincent Crabbe, one of your boyfriend's goons, is also in your class. And he definetely takes his job as an inquisitor a little too serious.
When you wanted to get out of the classroom, he suddenly got in your way and blocked it, waiting for everyone else to leave. At first you thought he was just trying to be funny again, you have never had a problem with each other in the first place. But apparently Crabbe prefers to receive an award from Umbridge to your friendship and the fact that you are in the same house didn't stop him in deducting twenty house points from his own house because you broke two rules. You never expected him to have a big brain, but that he even dragged you into Umbridge's office afterwards just because you forgot your homework in a class she is not even a part of, was even too stupid for a Vincent Crabbe.
And only then did it get really bad.
A tear has now found its way down your cheek, but you hastily wipe it away and run to the sinks in the girls' bathroom. You quickly turn on the faucet and hold your reddened, throbbing hand under the ice-cold water, your lips escapes a painful gasp. You squeeze your eyes shut at the pain and let the water run down your skin, hoping to soothen your aching flesh. What Umbridge did to you can no longer be considered a punishment, it was more of a torture.
As soon as Crabbe rudely pushed you into her disgusting pink office, he immediately received his desired reward and left you alone with this monster of a woman. This disgusting woman greeted you with a fake cunning smile and asked you to sit on one of the chairs at her table, the cats trapped in the pictures on every inch of the wall meowing in your ear. First you resisted against her request but soon realized that discussions with her are of no use and sat down after all.
With that peculiar high tone of hers, she handed you a black quill and then asked you to write 'I must not be late' onto the parchment until you memorize it. She also told you that you won't need any ink. With an annoyed roll of your eyes you straightend up your position, put the tip of the quill onto the paper and started writing. Not even spelling out the sentence one time, you felt a sharp pain on the back of your hand with every further letter you wrote down. As you took a look at your hand you noticed the exact words you just wrote were engraved on your skin.
Shocked, you glanced at Umbridge, but she just stood their with a smile on her face, shaking her head and shrugging. You figured out that the ink was made from your own blood and also that every word would only hurt more. And that is exactly what it did. She must have let you write that one single sentence down over fifthy times before she was sure you had learned your lesson.
You yourself didn't really care if you did, all you wanted to do was to get out of that hell as soon as possible. And now you are here, standing in absolute pain in front of an already broken mirror in a cold bathroom.
You have to blink a few times while looking up at the ceiling to hold back your tears and then you look at your injured hand again. You pull it out from under the running water for a moment, only to see that you are still able to perfectly read the words. The cold water did not really ease the pain, it almost feels like it has gotten worse. You lightly touch the reddend, blood smeared skin around the actual wound with your fingertip and just at the slightest touch you flinch and pull your hand back.
You don't know how long you stood there and held your hand under the water as suddenly a thought pops up in your mind: Draco. If he finds out about what happened, he will be furious. Also, he is probably already waiting for you for two hours, not that it is unusual for you to be late to your daily meetings with your boyfriend, you always get caught up by some work for school, but you never needed this long before. Is he already looking for you?
Without waisting another thought, you close the tap again, dry your hand very gently and then go out of the girls' bathroom, always careful not to run into the next squad member's arms and get sent back to the devil itself. Fortunately, you manage to find your way to the common room without getting caught, only once imagining that you heard Mrs. Norris. After you have said the password successfully, you enter the, luckily, empty room.
You quickly make your way to Draco's prefect dorm room, pulling the sleeve of your cloak - or as you have just noticed because of the large size, Draco's cloak - over your wounded hand so that it remains hidden. All you want is to be hugged now and comforted by him and not that he gets upset and angry and probably storm to Umbridge's office right away. Softly, you knock on the door and take in a deep breath, before it is opened vigorously.
Immediately you are pulled into the room, the door behind you is closed, even locked, and you get pressed against it with your back. In front of you is none other than your incredibly handsome boyfriend whose eyes seek eye contact with you in an instant. "Where were you?", Draco asks in a calm voice, gently stroking his fingertips over your cheeks to your chin, causing goosebumps to spread all over your body.
"I-I was held in Transfiguration. I had to catch up on some tasks and I forgot the time. I'm sorry, Draco", you lie into his face, really not wanting to tell him anything about what happend. "You made me wait a long time for you today, are you aware of that, darling?", he reminds you with a cheeky grin, his face slowly coming closer to yours. You know exactly what that look, that expression in his suddenly darker eyes means. He moves the hand that is not under your chin over your side and lets it stay on your hip. "But that is no problem, love. We still have enough time.."
With these words he then connects your lips into a hungry kiss, pressing you more against the door to his room. His hand on your hip squeezes you harder and he runs his other hand down to your neck. His firm grip makes you gasp, only earning a deep chuckle from the platinum haired boy.
For this brief moment in which he caught you off guard by slamming his lips onto yours, you had forgotten everything around you, but it did not last long and suddenly all the experiences come back into your head. Not wanting to continue this, you put your hands on his chest, trying to push him away from you but you only manage to break the kiss, which does not please him at all.
"I'm really not in the mood today, Draco", you explain, hoping that he will understand, like he usually does. "You will be, just wait and see", he winks playfully, absolutely not noticing the seriousness in your voice. Before you can say anything you only see the corners of his mouth curl up and next thing you know is he's attacking your neck, sucking and nibbling at that specific spot behind your ear.
Because of the actually pleasing feeling, you put more pressure on Draco's upper arms, which you are now unintentionally holding onto. "D-Draco", you softly whimper as he takes off your green tie and starts unbuttoning your white blouse, his rough kisses slowly wandering to your collarbone. "Please, Draco, stop", you manage to bring out, clearer than previously, but he ignores your request and just continues with what he is doing.
"We both know that you don't want me to stop", Draco whispers in your ear and connects your lips again, this time even rougher, not giving you the opportunity to say anything. It takes you a few seconds until you, in fact, try to relax under his touch and let yourself go, tilting your head to one side so he has even more access to the sensitive skin on your neck, which is already bluish.
But you just can't. You can't force yourself to do this after the horrifying encounter with Umbridge.
With a strong, forceful push you manage to shove Draco away from you ungently, a shocked and kind of annoyed expression plastered upon his face. "I said stop, Draco!", you practically scream at him, his forehead furrowed as the tears well back into your eyes. You want to pass him and go to his bed, but he quickly grabs your wrist and stops you. Immediately you harshly swat your hand away.
"Let me go and just leave me alone! You are always so insensitive!", you yell at him again, the emotions taking over your actions, but this time the tears find their way down your cheeks and only now Draco notices your change of appearance, how puffy your cheeks are and how your eyes are swollen and bloodshot, as if you had already cried before coming to his room.
Crying, you lie down on his bed, facing the wall so that your back is facing him. Draco frowns for a moment when he sees your devastated figure trembling from your heavy sobs. You cover your mouth with your hand to stifle your crying, but that only makes it worse. You can feel the mattress sink down beneath you as Draco lies down beside you, not touching you in the slightest.
A few minutes pass in which noone speaks, only your crying can be heard throughout the silence of the room. Your desperate attempts to calm yourself down and wipe away your recurring tears fails dramatically. Draco, on the other hand, lies next to you motionless, his head propped up on his elbow. If there is one thing in this entire traumatic enough world that he hates the most, it definetely is seeing you, the love of his life, his soulmate, cry. He would love to punch himself for not noticing how bad you are feeling sooner. Feelings of guilt start to plague him and he doesn't know what to do, if you even want to be touched by him anymore, especially in this fragile state.
Nevertheless, Draco finally decides to approach you slowly by stroking your hair gently and carefully to not scare you. He just wants to show you that he is here for you, that he is by your side, even if you may not feel like talking right now. When he notices that you are not resisting his touch, he runs his fingertips over your arm, trying to comfort you somehow without it being too much. And when you don't fight against that either, Draco suddenly wraps his arms around your still shaking body from behind and presses you tightly against him.
"Please don't cry, sweetheart", he softly whispers into your ear, lifting his head so he gets a glimpse of your face from the side. "Please stop..", he almost begs and feels tears pricking in his own eyes now as well. He has seen you cry a few times already, but never this much. It breaks his heart. "I'm here for you, angel."
In his strong and protective arms, tightly secured around your waist, you finally manage to calm down at least a little bit and turn around to face him. You don't dare to look at him with your probably disfigured face from all the crying, but Draco has other plans. He puts a hand on your cheek, guiding your face up to make you look at him. In your shiny, pain-ridden eyes, he is trying to find an answer to your condition, not wanting to pressure you to tell him if you don't want to.
"D-Draco", you stutter out between your sobs. "Shh..", he hushs you softly, his left hand stroking up and down your side in order to comfort you. "Take it easy, okay? Breathe in deeply. Whatever happened, I'm here for you. I protect you. Always."
Knowingly, you nod and wipe away some tears again, Draco helping you with his thumb. When you let your hand drop again, he catches your hand in his gently and wants to intertwine your fingers as his gaze falls on the still reddened wound on the back of your hand. His eyes widen as he sees the wound consisting of words painfully engraved into your skin. His mouth opens in pure shock. "What is that? Who did this to you, Y/N?!"
With a sad gasp you quickly pull your hand away, the expression on his face immediately falling since you are avoiding his touch and don't trust him with this. Only at seeing your scared face Draco notices that his last words became a bit louder and he is quick to pull you into a comforting hug again. "I'm sorry.. I didn't mean to scare you", he apologizes and places a kiss on your hair. "You know that you can tell me everything, Y/N. But if you don't want to, then at least show me your injury again please."
Silently, you escape his grip and lift your hand for him to see. He carefully examines the back of your hand, looking into your eyes here and then to see if his touch hurts. "U-Umbridge", you sob while he is still busy viewing your wound. At your words he raises an eyebrow in surprise.
"I-I was late for class and forgot my homework and then.. and then Crabbe sent me to her office. She.. She did-", you try to explain, but just can't find the right words. Draco caresses your cheek gently, apparently understanding what happened.
"I will kill her", Draco grinds his teeth, obviously fighting himself to hold back the anger that is currently raising inside of him like a burning flame. This woman dared to lay a hand on you and put you in such a state. And Crabbe won't get away with this either. Because of the tremendous anger, Draco is already getting up from the soft mattress, ready to fight.
"Please s-stay with me, Draco", you entreat him, not wanting to loose the warmth of his body next to you that manages to calm you down. At your words, his tense body relaxes and the boiling fire inside of him diminishes, but only slightly. Just because of you he's not already on his way to her office and give her hell.
"I'm so sorry I wasn't there. I'm sorry you had to go through this alone and I'm sorry for my behavior earlier", Draco starts to ramble, feeling guilty for not being able to protect you.
"You couldn't know. I-I really don't want to talk about it anymore.. Can you please just hold me, Draco?", you sob and he does what you asked him to do right away. His arms pull you closer to him and the delicate, fragrant scent that emenates from him calms you down, lowering your cries.
"I will never let you go", Draco whispers quietly, reassuring you that he will defintely never let you get hurt again. Not on his watch even if that means that he has to stick to you every second from now on, then so it will be.
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sapphirelass · 3 years
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Two Peas in a Pod - Harry PotterxSister!Reader
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Please note:
1: I don’t own any of the gifs used, nor any already established characters, so credit to the authors and original creators - You have done a phenomenal job :)
2: English is not my native language, as I was born and raised in Sweden. I have, however, studied English for almost a decade, so I don’t think it’ll be a problem, I just thought I’d let you know ;)
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
For this one-shot I have taken inspiration from both the book and the film, as well as left out parts of the original dialogue that, for the purpose of this story, felt irrelevant.
Word count: ≈ 2400
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You probably already knew this, but still XD
(Y/N) - Your name
(Y/N/N) - Your nickname
(Y/H/C) - Your hair colour
(Y/H/L) - Your hair length
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 
Two Peas in a Pod
Harry Potter and his twin sister (Y/N) were like two peas in a pod. Always had been. Supposedly, that was what happened when young magicians had to grow up with muggles, especially if those muggles were named “Dursley”. Harry was always more impulsive, whereas (Y/N) took on the role of the rational one, yet they had both been placed in Gryffindor house by the sorting hat four years prior.
It was now the first of September 1995, and last year had been a rough one. Lord Voldemort, the dark wizard who had killed Harry and (Y/N)’s parents, had just come back and despite their efforts, this holiday had been more miserable than any of the previous ones. Dudley and his friends, dementor attacks, and a general lack of communication with the wizarding world left the twins in a particularly bad mood. They arrived at Kings Cross, and after pulling Harry away from Draco Malfoy, (Y/N), her brother, Ron and Hermione boarded the Hogwarts express, and found a place to sit.
During the start-of-the-year feast, the small group of friends quickly realized that something was wrong. Their new Defence Against the Dark Arts professor - Dolores Umbridge - was a ministry employe, which was weird on its own, but the way she spoke, acted, and kept interrupting Dumbledore with shrill, irritating *hum hum*’s made them all feel queasy.
After a quiet discussion in the common room (and quite a bit of loud arguing between Harry and Seamus Finnigan), they went to bed, yawning, and not exactly looking forward to that year’s first period of DADA.
***
They entered the classroom, and to their surprise, Umbridge actually wasn’t there yet. Harry and (Y/N) shared a confused look, but went to sit down, Harry with Ron, and (Y/N) with Hermione. Eventually though, the professor did arrive, her unnaturally high-pitched voice bringing them all back to reality.
“Good morning, class!” she said cheerfully
There was a quiet murmur among the students, and Umbridge shook her head.
“Good Morning!” she said again, this time more sternly. “I expect you to answer me when spoken to.”
A slightly louder “Good morning professor” could be heard, and though Umbridge didn’t seem too pleased, she decided to move on with the lesson.
“Ordinary Wizarding Levels - OWLs” she started. “Your previous teachers in this subject have all been quite questionable choices, however this year things will be the way they were meant to. Open your books on page 4.”
A few minutes had passed before Hermione raised her hand and said “Professor, there is nothing in here about using defensive spells.”
“Using spells?” Umbridge asked, laughing nastily
“We’re not to use magic?” Ron asked
“You will be learning defensive magic in a safe, risk-free environment”
“But”, said Harry, rather angrily, “what good would that do? If we were attacked that wouldn’t be risk-free!”
“Ha!”, laughed Umbridge, “And who exactly do you think would want to attack a helpless child such as yourself? Besides, the education you will receive will be more than enough for you to pass your OWLs, and that is after all just what school is about.” She finished with a smirk, looking rather satisfied with her speech.
(Y/N), who had sat quietly this whole time shifted slightly in her chair, and exclaimed: “It’s not though!
“Sorry?” Umbridge asked, dumbfounded
“School isn’t solely about receiving good grades! It’s about preparing the students for life, and supplying them with the tools and knowledge necessary in order to succeed and improve. If we’re not going to do that, then why, may I ask, is this a mandatory course? It’s already starting to seem rather pointless to me.”
Harry was perplexed. How his sister always managed to, 1: use her words in such a remarkable way, and 2: remain calm through the most infuriating of situations was a mystery to him, however he turned his gaze back towards Umbridge, waiting for her reply.
“Nonsense” She said. “This course is compulsory, and rightfully so!”
“How though?” Inquired (Y/N), pushing it further than she probably should have. “Can you name any situation, apart from the exam, where your teachings will be of any help to us? Or didn’t the ministry consider that?”
That was the top of the iceberg.
“DETENTION!!” shouted Umbridge. “My office, 8:30 would you be so kind, Ms Potter.”
(Y/N) flinched. She wasn’t afraid to speak her mind, however detention was not something she had to endure very often. That was more Harry’s thing. She sank quietly back onto her chair, and Umbridge continued with her boring, unnecessary lesson, reciting facts and procedures they had all learnt about 4 years earlier. (Y/N) could feel her brother staring, practically burning a hole in her neck, but somehow, probably thanks to Ron, he kept quiet for the rest of the class.
An hour later, class ended and none of the Gryffindor students wasted any time getting out of Umbridge’s classroom. (Y/N) threw her stuff into her brown, leather bag and dashed out of the room without making eye contact with her brother or friends.
“(Y/N/N)!” Harry shouted. “Wait up!”
He caught up with his sister on the stairs leading down to McGonagall’s classroom.
“Hey, are you okay?”
Looking up at him with an annoyed stare she said “Yes Harry! Just brilliant!” with a sarcastic tone in her voice. She kept on walking, but Harry grabbed her shoulder. A few years ago, they had been roughly the same size, but Harry had grown A LOT, and was by now almost seven inches taller. All the quidditch training had apparently paid off too, and (Y/N) knew instantly that she would never be able to escape his firm, yet gentle grip. He glanced down on her with a worried look on his face.
“I’m serious!” he said. “Stop”
She turned around and faced him. “What?” She spat at him, suddenly noticing her icy voice.
“Sorry…” (Y/N) mumbled, “she just pissed me off. I’m fine.” Her facial expression softened and she met Harry’s eyes for the first time since class ended. He let go of her shoulders, and was just about to say something when a tall ginger came running at full speed and gave (Y/N) a supportive pat on the back.
“That was bloody brilliant!” Ron exclaimed. “(Y/N), did you see the look on her face? Bloody hell, she was angrier than Malfoy after Harry beat him in his first quidditch match!”
“Yes” stated (Y/N) simply, as Hermione made her way down the stairs, “I saw…”
“Oh cheer up!” stated Ron, “an hour or two of detention isn’t the end of the world. If you ask me, it was totally worth it!”
Hermione gave him a disapproving stare as (Y/N) sadly stated, “It might not have been the cleverest thing to do” Both Harry and Hermione blinked at her with a sort of “you-don’t-say?” kind of look as she kept on speaking. “But you must admit that it’s the truth? Defence against the dark arts has never been as important as it is right now. We are all going to die before the end of the year unless we learn and improve?!”
“You’re right.” Hermione muttered, and surprisingly, she smiled slightly. “But we’ll have to talk about that later, otherwise we’ll be late for transfiguration. Come on!”
***
The rest of the day went by rather quickly, and the quartet soon found themselves in front of the fireplace in the common room. It was about 8:20 when (Y/N) stood up, grabbed a jacket, and left for Umbridge’s office.
“Good luck!” Harry said, frowning deeply, “I’ll wait for you here.”
(Y/N) turned around quickly, “Haz, you don’t have to. I’ll be fine. You need your sleep and I have no idea how long this is going to take.”
Harry gave her a sort or irritated look, to which she sighed and left without a word.
“What do you think she’ll have her do?” Hermione questioned.
“I don’t know” Harry hissed, “but I’m sure she’ll tell me when she gets back...”
The remaining three looked at each other. Ron threw Harry a chocolate frog, and then - they waited…
***
*knock knock*
There was a slight clinking noise, like metal on china, followed by a repulsing “come in”. (Y/N) took a deep breath and pushed the door open.
“Ah!” chirped Umbridge, “Potter, sit down, will you?”
(Y/N) apprehensively made her way across the room to the chair her so-called “professor” had pointed at. She sat down and looked around nervously.
“You will be writing some sentences for me today, no” Umbridge said, as (Y/N) reached down to her bag to pick up something to write with. “no, not with your own quill. You’ll be using a rather special one of mine.” She smiled evilly, and pushed a black, pointy feather across the table.
(Y/N) grabbed it carefully and asked in a silent, trembling voice, “what should I write?”
“Oh, right! How about… ‘I must obey my superiors’?”
***
It was about three hours later, when (Y/N) slowly made her way back to the common room, red, hot blood dripping from her left hand leaving a small trail through the corridor. The pain had intensified, and was by this point almost unbearable. She took a quick detour to the girls’ bathroom, hoping to be able to clean herself up a bit before having to face her friends and brother. She had told him to go to sleep, after all, it was almost midnight by now, but she knew him all too well. The odds of him being in bed were absolutely zero.
She watched the thick, red liquid disappear down the sink and let a few tears fall, before grabbing some paper making sure no tears or blood could be seen. She had to make it through the common room up to the dormitories quickly though, since she was sure Harry would be able to tell she’d been crying, no matter how hard she tried to hide it. Sure, she could just tell him, but something inside her argued against that. He had been rather angry and distressed all summer, and she knew he wasn’t feeling much better now. Harry had enough to deal with without handling her problems too.
Entering the common room, roughly four seconds had passed before her brother was by her side.
“Hey,” he said gently, “everything okay?”
She nodded and mumbled a quiet. “Yes. ‘m tired though, night Harry”
She walked the stairs up to her dorm, leaving Harry behind. He simply stood there dumbfounded. What had just happened? “Oh… okay, night (Y/N/N)”
She didn’t answer…
***
The following morning, he found her at the breakfast table, slowly digesting a tiny portion of porridge. She was wearing one of his old quidditch jumpers underneath her cloak. He knew, because it was far too big for her, and the sleeves reached down to her fingertips.
“Hey,” he said, ruffling her (Y/H/L), (Y/H/C) hair, “Feeling better?”
“Sure, “ she murmured, slowly pulling the sleeves even further down. He gave her a supportive hug.
“But come on now, “ he urged her. “You can’t be sad forever. What did she have you do?”
“Nothing…”
“(Y/N/N)!”
“Just write some sentences. It was fine, rather dull to be honest with you.” She threw the spoon into the bowl, and pushed it away. “How are you feeling? Any bad dreams?”
“Always…” he muttered, shaking his head at the milk that had splashed out on the table, “could have been worse though.”
Harry made himself some toast, as Ron and Hermione joined them in the great hall.
***
A week or so later Harry had had enough. It was in defence against the dark arts, on a rather cold Tuesday afternoon that he finally snapped, and shouted at professor Umbridge, who seemed almost too happy for a reason to give him detention.
The gang sat, yet again, around the fireplace in the Gryffindor common room, when Harry suddenly left and climbed through the portrait hole. He came back a few hours later, a downright furious look on his face, and walked straight up to his sister without even noticing the ghost he had stumbled through. He looked down at her smaller frame, his quidditch jumper yet again pulled over her head.
“Let me see, ” he said through gritted teeth, causing (Y/N) to look up at him, trying her best to act confused.
“Wha…”
“(Y/N) - let. me. see.” he repeated firmly, his emerald eyes penetrating the mental wall behind which she had been trying so hard to hide her troubles.
She closed her eyes and pulled her sleeve up to her elbow. The blood had naturally dried, however five heart wrenching words were etched into her still red, irritated skin.
I must obey my superiors
No one said a thing. (Y/N) was staring at the floor, not daring to meet her brother’s eyes, all while Harry felt madder than he ever had before.
Madder than when Dudley had been pushing him around the school yard.
Madder than when Malfoy had taunted him because of the dementors.
Madder than when he had found out that his aunt and uncle had lied about their parents true fate for almost 10 years.
This was his sister, and it was far from okay.
Without thinking, Harry was just about to shout at her for keeping something like that from him, when he noticed that she was crying. Soft, quiet sobs that she were clearly trying to hide. It felt as if all his anger simply washed away, and he crouched down and took her hand in his.
Harry’s hand was still covered in blood. He hadn’t had time to clean it, but had instead taken the shortest way to the common room, after realizing what had happened. Raising his right hand, he pulled her closer and felt her lean her head on his chest. They sat like that, arms wrapped around each other, for hours and slowly started drifting off to sleep.
Were they okay? Not at all. Would they be? Absolutely! Because they had each other, and when it really came down to it, that was all they needed, as the Potter twins were just like two peas in a pod.
~ L
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theyearoftheking · 4 years
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Book Thirty-Nine: The Green Mile
Hoooooly crap, y’all! This is the halfway point of this project: I’ve read thirty-nine books, and I have approximately thirty-nine more to go (depending what Steve releases before the end of the year). And honestly? If it wasn’t for COVID, and quarantine, and lots of time traveling (pre-COVID, of course); I wouldn’t have reached the halfway point. This probably would have turned into a two year project. But here we are, diving into The Green Mile!
Of all the Steve books, I dreaded re-reading The Green Mile the most. I had originally read it when it was first published, and it came out in chapters every few weeks. I’d breathlessly tear through a chapter, only to have to wait for the next one to be released. It was a pretty fun format, and I really wish I still had my original chapters. Oh well. 
But this time around, I didn’t think I was in the right head-space to read it, and the world sure as hell isn’t in the right head-space. The Green Mile was published in 1996, and takes place in 1932. It could very well have been set in our current climate. Just a few quotes for you...
“He got (his sentence) commuted mostly because he was white...”
“I think we have to be humane and generous to solve the race problem. But we have to remember that your negro will bite if he gets the chance, just like a mongrel dog will bite if he gets the chance and it crosses his mind to do so.” 
“John Coffey is a Negro, and in Trapingus County we’re awful particular about giving new trials to Negros...” 
NOTHING HAS FUCKING CHANGED SINCE 1932!! We are still hearing these same sentiments from people claiming, “I’m not a racist, but...” Our judicial system is still biased against POC, and the rate of incarceration for POC compared to whites is staggering. 
NOTHING HAS FUCKING CHANGED. And that’s the part that makes me the most sad. So, yeah, I wasn’t looking forward to cracking The Green Mile in our current climate. 
Few Steve books have touched me the way this one did. A fellow Constant Reader pointed out, “This is one of the only stories where he showcases the forces of good. We usually get ghosts and demons, but John Coffey may be the closest thing he has ever wrote of an angel...” Hot damn, Sam Beall, you’re not wrong. 
But in addition to forces of good, we’ve also got Percy Wetmore; who I feel is the nastiest Steve villain ever... he makes Randall Flagg and The Crimson King look like dudes who drink matcha lattes at a cat cafe, and compare notes on their polarized sunglasses. Percy Wetmore immediately activates my, “must kick hard in the junk” reflex. He. Is. The. Worst.
The Green Mile is told from the POV of Paul Edgecombe; a prison guard on “the green mile;” which is where convicted killers awaiting the death penalty are housed. “The green mile” refers to the long hallway inmates have to walk down to get to the electric chair.
 The story kicks off when John Coffey (like the drink but spelled different) is accused and found guilty of brutally raping and murdering two little blonde twin girls. He’s found on a riverbank, clutching their bodies, and crying, “I couldn’t help it, I tried to take it back, but it was too late...” 
So, Coffey makes his way onto The Mile, and shares space with Eduard Delacroix and his pet mouse Mr. Jingles; and William Wharton (Billy the Kid, or Wild Billy, depending on the day). Delacroix is French southern gentleman found guilty of murder, and then arson to hide the murder scene. He’s a bad guy... don’t get me wrong... but there’s something intensely likable about him. Maybe it’s the pet mouse he’s trained, maybe it’s his meek nature that Percy (another prison guard) takes advantage of... I don’t know. But you grow to like him, and the relationship he has with Mr. Jingles. Mr. Jingles randomly showed up one day, and the guards (except Percy) were all taken with him. After Percy attempts to smash him with a club, he takes to Delacroix and whispers in his ear that his name is Mr. Jingles. 
William Wharton is another story. He’s a wild card, who upon his arrival, promptly tries to strangle a prison guard. He also spits masticated Moon Pie at another guard. Sooo, he’s a lot of fun. 
The three of them live on the wing, and the first up for execution is Delacroix. Percy has a particular hatred of him, he claims he tried to grab his junk once. It didn’t happen... Del just got yanked along when he was in handcuffs and fell in Percy’s lap. The day before his execution, Percy thinks it might be fun to kill Mr. Jingles. Like I said... total fucking asshole. He stomps on him, and Del loses it. Mr. Jingles is the only thing he loves in the whole world... and maybe the only thing that loves him back. 
Thinking quickly, Coffey asks for Mr. Jingles little mousy body. Speaking of junk grabbing, he grabbed Paul and cured the UTI he had brewing for weeks. So, Paul is hopeful Coffey can use his miraculous healing abilities to do it again. And he does! Mr. Jingles lives!
But Percy’s not done being a scab on the balls of society. The night of Del’s execution, he tells him Mr. Jingles isn’t going to Mouseville like Paul promised he was (total lie- like telling kids a dog is going to live on a farm). And then, Percy doesn’t wet the sponge before placing it on Del’s head prior to his execution, so it’s horrible, painful and just horrible. So, Del is dead, Percy plays the, “I don’t know what happened!” card, and Mr. Jingles is gone. My heart. Of all the scenes in the book, I was dreading this one the most. 
Meanwhile, the prison warden, Hal Moores is struggling with the fact his wife Melinda has a massive brain tumor, and it’s starting to change her personality. He doesn’t know what to do. Paul thinks they should pack Coffey up, and take him out to the Moores’s house and have him heal Melinda. 
It’s a crazy idea, but it ends up working. The other prison guards drug Billy; and  put Percy in a straitjacket and throw him in the supply closet so he doesn’t notice anything is amiss. They tell him it’s payback for how Del’s death went down. So, they race out to see Hal and Melinda, and Coffey does his thing. They race back to the prison, and no one notices they’ve been gone. However, Coffey is in a bad way. This was much more healing than he’s used to doing, and he’s mentally and physically exhausted.
After they release Percy from the supply closet, Coffey grabs him and “kisses” him: which transfers the sick energy he got from Melinda into Percy. Percy then turns around, and shoots Wild Billy/Billy the Kid dead; and then becomes catatonic. 
He’s then carted off to the psych ward, which is too good for him. Fiery pits of hell would have been better. 
But wait!
Plot twist! Billy the Kid had briefly touched Coffey, and Coffey learned HE was the one who had killed the two little girls.  Paul puts this together as well, and tries to fight for Coffey’s release. He realizes Coffey’s words,  “I couldn’t help it, I tried to take it back, but it was too late...” were about his inability to heal the girls, not his guilt.
 When I had read the revelation the first time, I flew through the end, hoping and praying justice would be served, and Coffey wouldn’t be executed. Bad things didn’t happen to good people like John Coffey, right? Oh, how naive. There were A LOT of tears. 
But Coffey is at peace with his upcoming execution. He tells Paul, “I’m rightly tired of the pain I hear and feel, boss. I’m tired of bein on the road, lonely as a robin in the rain. Not ever havin no buddy to go on with or tell me where we’s comin from or goin to or why. I’m tired of people bein ugly to each other. It feels like pieces of glass in my head. I’m tired of all the times I’ve wanted to help and couldn’t. I’m tired of bein in the dark. Mostly it’s the pain. There’s too much...”
That right there makes me cry every damn time I read it. 
So, Coffey is executed, and life continues on; as it always seems to do. Paul is actually writing this story in his old age, at the  Georgia Pines nursing home. There’s an orderly there who’s just as evil as Percy, and he keeps trying to follow Paul on his daily walks outside. Where’s Paul going??? 
TO SEE MR. JINGLES!!! 
Yes! He’s still alive! It seems when Coffey healed people, it added onto their life expectancy. Mr. Jingles was still alive, and Paul was one hundred and four years old. But he knew his time was coming. He reflects on the loss of his beautiful wife, the people he knew on the Green Mile, the guards he worked with, and that mile seems LONG. 
Such a sad, beautiful end to an incredible work. This is another one I recommend to people who tell me they don’t like Stephen King. Try it... you’ll like it... when your heart is done breaking that is...
Total Wisconsin Mentions: 27
Total Dark Tower References: 38
Book Grade: A+
Rebecca’s Definitive Ranking of Stephen King Books
The Talisman: A+
Needful Things: A+
The Green Mile: A+
Rose Madder: A+
Misery: A+
Different Seasons: A+
It: A+
Four Past Midnight: A+
The Shining: A-
The Stand: A-
The Wastelands: A-
The Drawing of the Three: A-
Dolores Claiborne: A-
Nightmares in the Sky: B+
The Dark Half: B+
Skeleton Crew: B+
The Dead Zone: B+
Nightmares & Dreamscapes: B+
‘Salem’s Lot: B+
Carrie: B+
Creepshow: B+
Cycle of the Werewolf: B-
Danse Macabre: B-
The Running Man: C+
Thinner: C+
Dark Visions: C+
The Eyes of the Dragon: C+
The Long Walk: C+
The Gunslinger: C+
Pet Sematary: C+
Firestarter: C+
Rage: C
Insomnia: C-
Cujo: C-
Nightshift: C-
Gerald’s Game: D
Roadwork: D
Christine: D
The Tommyknockers: D-
Next is Desperation, which I know nothing about, other than it’s a real chonk of a book. 
Do me a favor, please? Stop being ugly to each other. Stop hurting gentle people like John Coffey. Please and thank you.
Until next time, Long Days & Pleasant Nights,
Rebecca
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sapphirelass · 3 years
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Two Peas in a Pod - Harry PotterxSister
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Please note:
1: I don’t own any of the gifs used, nor any already established characters, so credit to the authors and original creators - You have done a phenomenal job :)
2: English is not my native language, as I was born and raised in Sweden. I have, however, studied English for almost a decade, so I don’t think it’ll be a problem, I just thought I’d let you know ;)
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For this one-shot I have taken inspiration from both the book and the film, as well as left out parts of the original dialogue that, for the purpose of this story, felt irrelevant. 
Word count: ≈ 2400
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Two Peas in a Pod
Harry Potter and his twin sister Lucy were like two peas in a pod. Always had been. Supposedly, that was what happened when young magicians had to grow up with muggles, especially if those muggles were named “Dursley”. Harry was always more impulsive, whereas Lucy took on the role of the rational one, yet they had both been placed in Gryffindor house by the sorting hat four years prior.
It was now the first of September 1995, and last year had been a rough one. Lord Voldemort, the dark wizard who had killed Harry and Lucy’s parents, had just come back and despite their efforts, this holiday had been more miserable than any of the previous ones. Dudley and his friends, dementor attacks, and a general lack of communication with the wizarding world left the twins in a particularly bad mood. They arrived at Kings Cross, and after pulling Harry away from Draco Malfoy, Lucy, her brother, Ron and Hermione boarded the Hogwarts express, and found a place to sit.
During the start-of-the-year feast, the small group of friends quickly realized that something was wrong. Their new Defence Against the Dark Arts professor - Dolores Umbridge - was a ministry employe, which was weird on its own, but the way she spoke, acted, and kept interrupting Dumbledore with shrill, irritating *hum hum*’s made them all feel queasy. 
After a quiet discussion in the common room (and quite a bit of loud arguing between Harry and Seamus Finnigan), they went to bed, yawning, and not exactly looking forward to that year’s first period of DADA.
***
They entered the classroom, and to their surprise, Umbridge actually wasn’t there yet. Harry and Lucy shared a confused look, but went to sit down, Harry with Ron, and Lucy with Hermione. Eventually though, the professor did arrive, her unnaturally high-pitched voice bringing them all back to reality.
“Good morning, class!” she said cheerfully
There was a quiet murmur among the students, and Umbridge shook her head.
“Good Morning!” she said again, this time more sternly. “I expect you to answer me when spoken to.”
A slightly louder “Good morning professor” could be heard, and though Umbridge didn’t seem too pleased, she decided to move on with the lesson.
“Ordinary Wizarding Levels - OWLs” she started. “Your previous teachers in this subject have all been quite questionable choices, however this year things will be the way they were meant to. Open your books on page 4.”
A few minutes had passed before Hermione raised her hand and said “Professor, there is nothing in here about using defensive spells.”
“Using spells?” Umbridge asked, laughing nastily
“We’re not to use magic?” Ron asked
“You will be learning defensive magic in a safe, risk-free environment”
“But”, said Harry, rather angrily, “what good would that do? If we were attacked that wouldn’t be risk-free!”
“Ha!”, laughed Umbridge, “And who exactly do you think would want to attack a helpless child such as yourself? Besides, the education you will receive will be more than enough for you to pass your OWLs, and that is after all just what school is about.” She finished with a smirk, looking rather satisfied with her speech.
Lucy, who had sat quietly this whole time shifted slightly in her chair, and exclaimed: “It’s not though! 
“Sorry?” Umbridge asked, dumbfounded
“School isn’t solely about receiving good grades! It’s about preparing the students for life, and supplying them with the tools and knowledge necessary in order to succeed and improve. If we’re not going to do that, then why, may I ask, is this a mandatory course? It’s already starting to seem rather pointless to me.”
Harry was perplexed. How his sister always managed to, 1: use her words in such a remarkable way, and 2: remain calm through the most infuriating of situations was a mystery to him, however he turned his gaze back towards Umbridge, waiting for her reply.
“Nonsense” She said. “This course is compulsory, and rightfully so!”
“How though?” Inquired Lucy, pushing it further than she probably should have. “Can you name any situation, apart from the exam, where your teachings will be of any help to us? Or didn’t the ministry consider that?”
That was the top of the iceberg.
“DETENTION!!” shouted Umbridge. “My office, 8:30 would you be so kind, Ms Potter.”
Lucy flinched. She wasn’t afraid to speak her mind, however detention was not something she had to endure very often. That was more Harry’s thing. She sank quietly back onto her chair, and Umbridge continued with her boring, unnecessary lesson, reciting facts and procedures they had all learnt about 4 years earlier. Lucy could feel her brother staring, practically burning a hole in her neck, but somehow, probably thanks to Ron, he kept quiet for the rest of the class.
An hour later, class ended and none of the Gryffindor students wasted any time getting out of Umbridge’s classroom. Lucy threw her stuff into her brown, leather bag and dashed out of the room without making eye contact with her brother or friends.
“Luce!” Harry shouted. “Wait up!”
He caught up with his sister on the stairs leading down to McGonagall’s classroom.
“Hey, are you okay?”
Looking up at him with an annoyed stare she said “Yes Harry! Just brilliant!” with a sarcastic tone in her voice. She kept on walking, but Harry grabbed her shoulder. A few years ago, they had been roughly the same size, but Harry had grown A LOT, and was by now almost seven inches taller. All the quidditch training had apparently paid off too, and Lucy knew instantly that she would never be able to escape his firm, yet gentle grip. He glanced down on her with a worried look on his face.
“I’m serious!” he said. “Stop”
She turned around and faced him. “What?” She spat at him, suddenly noticing her icy voice. 
“Sorry…” Lucy mumbled, “she just pissed me off. I’m fine.” Her facial expression softened and she met Harry’s eyes for the first time since class ended. He let go of her shoulders, and was just about to say something when a tall ginger came running at full speed and gave Lucy a supportive pat on the back.
“That was bloody brilliant!” Ron exclaimed. “Lucy, did you see the look on her face? Bloody hell, she was angrier than Malfoy after Harry beat him in his first quidditch match!”
“Yes” stated Lucy simply, as Hermione made her way down the stairs, “I saw…”
“Oh cheer up!” stated Ron, “an hour or two of detention isn’t the end of the world. If you ask me, it was totally worth it!”
Hermione gave him a disapproving stare as Lucy sadly stated, “It might not have been the cleverest thing to do” Both Harry and Hermione blinked at her with a sort of “you-don’t-say?” kind of look as she kept on speaking. “But you must admit that it’s the truth? Defence against the dark arts has never been as important as it is right now. We are all going to die before the end of the year unless we learn and improve?!”
“You’re right.” Hermione muttered, and surprisingly, she smiled slightly. “But we’ll have to talk about that later, otherwise we’ll be late for transfiguration. Come on!”
***
The rest of the day went by rather quickly, and the quartet soon found themselves in front of the fireplace in the common room. It was about 8:20 when Lucy stood up, grabbed a jacket, and left for Umbridge’s office.
“Good luck!” Harry said, frowning deeply, “I’ll wait for you here.”
Lucy turned around quickly, “Haz, you don’t have to. I’ll be fine. You need your sleep and I have no idea how long this is going to take.”
Harry gave her a sort or irritated look, to which she sighed and left without a word.
“What do you think she’ll have her do?” Hermione questioned.
“I don’t know” Harry hissed, “but I’m sure she’ll tell me when she gets back...”
The remaining three looked at each other. Ron threw Harry a chocolate frog, and then - they waited…
***
*knock knock*
There was a slight clinking noise, like metal on china, followed by a repulsing “come in”. Lucy took a deep breath and pushed the door open. 
“Ah!” chirped Umbridge, “Potter, sit down, will you?”
Lucy apprehensively made her way across the room to the chair her so-called “professor” had pointed at. She sat down and looked around nervously.
“You will be writing some sentences for me today, no” Umbridge said, as Lucy reached down to her bag to pick up something to write with. “no, not with your own quill. You’ll be using a rather special one of mine.” She smiled evilly, and pushed a black, pointy feather across the table.
Lucy grabbed it carefully and asked in a silent, trembling voice, “what should I write?”
“Oh, right! How about… ‘I must obey my superiors’?”
***
It was about three hours later, when Lucy slowly made her way back to the common room, red, hot blood dripping from her left hand leaving a small trail through the corridor. The pain had intensified, and was by this point almost unbearable. She took a quick detour to the girls’ bathroom, hoping to be able to clean herself up a bit before having to face her friends and brother. She had told him to go to sleep, after all, it was almost midnight by now, but she knew him all too well. The odds of him being in bed were absolutely zero. 
She watched the thick, red liquid disappear down the sink and let a few tears fall, before grabbing some paper making sure no tears or blood could be seen. She had to make it through the common room up to the dormitories quickly though, since she was sure Harry would be able to tell she’d been crying, no matter how hard she tried to hide it. Sure, she could just tell him, but something inside her argued against that. He had been rather angry and distressed all summer, and she knew he wasn’t feeling much better now. Harry had enough to deal with without handling her problems too.
Entering the common room, roughly four seconds had passed before her brother was by her side. 
“Hey,” he said gently, “everything okay?”
She nodded and mumbled a quiet. “Yes. ‘m tired though, night Harry”
She walked the stairs up to her dorm, leaving Harry behind. He simply stood there dumbfounded. What had just happened? “Oh… okay, night Luce”
She didn’t answer…
***
The following morning, he found her at the breakfast table, slowly digesting a tiny portion of porridge. She was wearing one of his old quidditch jumpers underneath her cloak. He knew, because it was far too big for her, and the sleeves reached down to her fingertips.
“Hey,” he said, ruffling her long, strawberry blonde hair, “Feeling better?”
“Sure, “ she murmured, slowly pulling the sleeves even further down. He gave her a supportive hug.
“But come on now, “ he urged her. “You can’t be sad forever. What did she have you do?”
“Nothing…”
“Luce!”
“Just write some sentences. It was fine, rather dull to be honest with you.” She threw the spoon into the bowl, and pushed it away. “How are you feeling? Any bad dreams?”
“Always…” he muttered, shaking his head at the milk that had splashed out on the table, “could have been worse though.”
Harry made himself some toast, as Ron and Hermione joined them in the great hall. 
***
A week or so later Harry had had enough. It was in defence against the dark arts, on a rather cold Tuesday afternoon that he finally snapped, and shouted at professor Umbridge, who seemed almost too happy for a reason to give him detention.
The gang sat, yet again, around the fireplace in the Gryffindor common room, when Harry suddenly left and climbed through the portrait hole. He came back a few hours later, a downright furious look on his face, and walked straight up to his sister without even noticing the ghost he had stumbled through. He looked down at her smaller frame, his quidditch jumper yet again pulled over her head. 
“Let me see, ” he said through gritted teeth, causing Lucy to look up at him, trying her best to act confused.
“Wha…”
“Lucy - let. me. see.” he repeated firmly, his emerald eyes penetrating the mental wall behind which she had been trying so hard to hide her troubles.
She closed her eyes and pulled her sleeve up to her elbow. The blood had naturally dried, however five heart wrenching words were etched into her still red, irritated skin. 
I must obey my superiors
No one said a thing. Lucy was staring at the floor, not daring to meet her brother’s eyes, all while Harry felt madder than he ever had before.
Madder than when Dudley had been pushing him around the school yard.
Madder than when Malfoy had taunted him because of the dementors.
Madder than when he had found out that his aunt and uncle had lied about their parents true fate for almost 10 years. 
This was his sister, and it was far from okay.
Without thinking, Harry was just about to shout at her for keeping something like that from him, when he noticed that she was crying. Soft, quiet sobs that she were clearly trying to hide. It felt as if all his anger simply washed away, and he crouched down and took her hand in his. 
Harry’s hand was still covered in blood. He hadn’t had time to clean it, but had instead taken the shortest way to the common room, after realizing what had happened. Raising his right hand, he pulled her closer and felt her lean her head on his chest. They sat like that, arms wrapped around each other, for hours and slowly started drifting off to sleep.
Were they okay? Not at all. Would they be? Absolutely! Because they had each other, and when it really came down to it, that was all they needed, as the Potter twins were just like two peas in a pod.
~ L
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