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ellecdc · 3 months

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Come Back, Be Here (part 7)

p1 // p2 // p3 // p4 // p5 // p6 // p7 // p8

Sirius Black x fem!reader - First Wizarding War Order of the Phoenix - 4.5K

CW: mentions of past abuse/torture, amnesia, healing/blood and injury, Bellatrix's cursed knife, angst, hurt/comfort, use of Y/N, character death

Synopsis: After sacrificing yourself to save your friend and Order partner James months before, you're found on the brink of death. It's now October 31st, and the Order has a plan.

Narcissa Black Malfoy was many things. She was a daughter, a sister, a cousin, a wife, a new mother, a Malfoy, and a Black. She was a proud pureblood, a cunning Slytherin, a noble woman, a powerful witch, and exceedingly loyal.

It was this last trait that seemed to be causing her the most problems, however.

Loyalty.

It was her loyalty that caused her to bite her tongue and smile when her husband announced that he had joined the ranks of the Dark Lord, who promised to bring the purebloods glory and to protect them from the likes of muggles and mudblood’s who were threatening their way of life. It was because of her loyalty that when her sister asked her to hide something of grave importance to the Dark Lord, even though the object exuded Darkness and Evil, she hid it in the rafters of their attic.

And it was because of her loyalty that when her baby cousin showed up at Malfoy Manor covered in blood, ash, and rubble with a lifeless body hanging limp in his arms begging for her help that she responded with, ‘bring her to the cellar’.

Narcissa needn’t wonder how she got here; she knew all too well. She was loyal, and she protected her own.

When exactly her disowned blood-traitor Gryffindor cousin’s muggle-born partner became one of her own, Narcissa wasn’t sure.

(The day you ‘died’)

“What have you done!?” Narcissa gritted through her teeth as she pulled the clothing off of the nearly-dead-witch’s body.

“’Cissa, please, I couldn’t leave her there-”

“Why not!?”

“She’s – she’s Sirius’, she’s...” Regulus took a steadying breath. “She’s Sirius’, Narcissa.”

“For crying out loud.” Narcissa growled. She wanted to argue, she wanted to scream and curse and tell him to dump this witch back where he’d found her. But she knew...

She knew she would have likely done the same.

When her son Draco was born, Narcissa had never felt so alone; her mother was long passed, her father was distant and cold, Bellatrix was insane, and she had long ago lost her favourite sister.

She thought at that moment of Andromeda and her husband and daughter.

If this had been Ted Tonks lying nearly dead on a hastily conjured drafting table, or their daughter Nymphadora...

Narcissa knew; her dog-like loyalty and her dragon-like possessiveness knew no bounds.

So, she pulled on all the blasted magic she could think of – light, dark, and ancient. Types of Oriental, coastal, Scandinavian and Aboriginal magic; anything and everything she could possibly think of to bring this witch back from the brink of death.

Spending her life as a dedicated pureblood meant spending a lot of time hiding away in libraries – no one could scold you for it, and you could hide away from whatever nonsense they were currently shoving down your throat. She thanked the deities for all of that time spent researching now.

Thoroughly exhausted and covered in another person’s blood, Narcissa stepped back as the witch finally took a breath on her own.

“Thank you, Narcissa.”

“Do not go thanking me yet, cousin.” Narcissa huffed. “What exactly is it you plan to do with her?”

Regulus stared dumbly at her. “Uhm...well, return her?”

Narcissa rolled her eyes. “Right, and then the Dark Lord suspects a traitor amongst his followers and kills us all for the act of disloyalty. Really cousin, did you hit your head in this battle or something?”

“Well, what do you suggest I do then, Narcissa, since you are clearly so much smarter than I?” He questioned hotly.

“This is not my mess, Regulus. You should have left her there to die.”

“Why?”

“What do you mean, why?” Narcissa asked incredulously.

“Why should she have to die? Hm? Because she was born into the wrong family? Does that make her evil? Fate does not make us evil, Narcissa; choices do. I did not choose to live as a pureblood, I was only born into this life. But I chose to follow the Dark Lord, and I chose to join this war. I choose to aim my wand at people who raise their wands in defense whilst I wield mine in hope for power and glory. So why her? Why should she die while I go home to eat from my silver spoon that was promised to me at birth?”

Narcissa balked at her cousin. “Regulus, what - what are you saying?”

But Regulus did not have a chance to respond before Lucius Malfoy, Severus Snape and Barty Crouch Junior followed a small house-elf down the stairs into the cellar.

“My, my, don’t tell me you’ve plundered some booty for us, dear Reggie!” Barty exclaimed excitedly.

“What, pray tell, is the meaning of this?” Snape asked as he eyed Regulus and Narcissa skeptically.

“We were wondering where everyone got to – oh.” Mulciber added as he stepped down into the cellar with Goyle trailing behind him.

“I found her at the set-up.” Regulus said plainly after throwing up a hasty occlusion behind his eyes.

“I see. And why exactly is she here.” Snape asked again.

“Did you...heal her?” Lucius guffawed.

“Why waste your energy on a pathetic mudblood?” Mulciber asked.

Narcissa stayed quiet and allowed Regulus to swim his way out of this on his own. She would not risk her own life protecting his mistake.

But what made it a mistake?

Narcissa had never once questioned the pureblood rhetoric that her parents entrenched in her. Not when she first stepped foot into Hogwarts. Not when she watched her classmates get bullied and harassed for their muddy blood. Not when it was announced she would be wed to her own cousin upon graduating from Hogwarts when she was only twelve years old, and not even when she was again announced to be wed to Lucius Malfoy instead at thirteen, after said cousin was sorted into the wrong house – bringing disgrace to the Ancient and Most Noble House of Black; and not even when her older sister defected from the family by falling in love with a filthy mudblood.

She looked at Regulus then. As the baby of the family, Regulus had seen all of this. He had witnessed the announcement of his big brother’s betrothal to his first cousin when Sirius was only ten years old. He saw the fallout and witnessed Sirius be ignored, embarrassed, and humiliated that first summer home after being sorted into the wrong house. He watched Sirius get tortured, brutalized, and starved every summer after that until he left home for good. He watched Andromeda be chastised and forced to choose between her family and her heart for falling in love with the wrong person. He watched Bellatrix descend into madness as she became more and more involved with Dark Magic.

Regulus, the baby of the family, had witnessed all of this.

Narcissa thought of her own baby then, upstairs being looked after by a house-elf whilst she was downstairs with her husband and his house guests while they argued over who had more of a right to this unconscious witch’s body than the others.

Did Regulus make a mistake?

Did she?

“Hmph, well, we’ll see how long this lasts.” Mulciber spat at Regulus before the five newcomers moved back upstairs leaving Narcissa alone with Regulus and the witch.

Narcissa watched as Regulus used Legillimency to peer inside the witch’s mind before he spoke. “You’re awake.”

The only response Regulus got was the tightening of the witch’s eyes.

“Squeezing your eyes shut will not change the fact that I know you are awake.” He commented with an eyeroll.

Narcissa watched as Regulus continued to monitor the witch.

“Yes, I am talking to you.” Regulus responded verbally.

A beat of silence.

“Very elegant.” He muttered.

“Indeed, you are.” He quipped again.

Narcissa watched as you peeled your eyes open and blinked against the light above you; she heard your neck crack loudly as you turned your head towards Regulus before your face fell.

“You can’t be serious?” You rasped disbelievingly.

“Close, but no.” Regulus smirked as he stood and moved toward the table you were lying on. “The name is Regulus. Regulus Arcturus Black.”

Narcissa watched as a look of panic crossed your features as you took in Regulus.

“I don’t suppose you happen to know occlumency, do you?”

You shook your head in response.

“Shame. Well, for your sake, I hope you are a quick learner.” Regulus said before he stupefied you.

“This just got an awful lot more complicated, Regulus.” Narcissa commented quietly.

“I know.” Regulus sighed before he turned to his cousin. “Narcissa, please, will you help me?”

Narcissa looked between her cousin – the only relative she really had left – and the unconscious witch beside him. Suddenly, the witch wasn’t just a nearly dead burden – she was a chance. An opportunity for more. An opportunity to do better. An opportunity to have better.

“I do not want this life for my son.” Narcissa admitted quietly.

“What?”

“I do not want Draco growing up worried about who he will be betrothed to before we even send him off to Hogwarts. I do not want him watching children be jinxed or hexed for being born to the wrong family – or worse – be the child jinxing or hexing them. I do not want to watch him slowly lose every single person that ever meant anything to him because they could not adhere to the same drivel. I do not want this life for him.” She took a deep breath.

“I want more for him, Regulus. I want better.”

Regulus searched Narcissa’s face for a few moments before nodding.

“Let’s do better, then.”

October 31st

“Okay, explain the plan to me one more time.” You muttered as you continued to pace a hole through Narcissa’s vintage Persian rug. Regulus fought the urge to groan and repeated the plan that Dumbledore had discussed with him for a third time.

“Remus Lupin has been made secret keeper of the currently vacant cottage in Godric’s Hollow. He, as Peter Pettigrew, will meet the Dark Lord in the town square of Godric’s Hollow at eight o’clock tonight. He will then escort the Dark Lord to Potter’s cottage where I will be in the form of James Potter and Narcissa in the form of Lily Potter. Apparently, to no one’s surprise, Sirius has demanded he be there – so Sirius will be there in his animagus form as will Professor McGonagall, and Dumbledore will be hidden under Potter’s invisibility cloak. Dumbledore has the sword of Gryffindor, and Narcissa was able to purchase Basilisk venom from Borgin & Burkes on Knockturn Alley, which means the Order will be able to slay Nagini without resorting to unforgiveables. I, however, will have no qualms firing an avada at the Dark Lord, so we will see how the rest plays out. Either way, he will die.” Regulus spouted in monotone.

You seemed to consider this as you continued pacing. “And I...”

“And you are staying here.” He said with finality.

“Why?” You asked petulantly. Regulus did not find it at all endearing.

“Because you have to look after Draco.” Narcissa offered.

You softened at the mention of the boy but seemed unconvinced. “You have a manor full of house-elves; I’m sure Dobby wouldn’t mind-”

“It has to be you, Y/N.” Narcissa said. “It needs to be someone who will not be swayed, regardless of who shows up and starts barking orders.”

Your head fell back in resignation as you looked at the ceiling.

“Okay?” Regulus asked quietly.

“Okay.” You admitted in defeat, bringing your gaze back to him.

Regulus offered you as kind a smile as the youngest Black and a chronic Slytherin could manage. “Your nose is bleeding again.”

“God damnit.” You muttered as you conjured a tissue into your hand and held it to your nose. More and more of your memories were flooding back in, and - just as the Healer had suggested - it was extremely painful. Not only were you now privy to migraines, nose bleeds, and the occasional seizure; you had an overwhelming sense of anxiety laying its damned wet blanket over you. You were somewhat annoyed that your memories appeared to be attacking you now when you would have benefitted from not remembering all of the reasons why this plan had to go just right.

“Why did it have to be Halloween?” You muttered miserably.

“Why did it have to be Halloween?” James whined. “I love Halloween.”

Lily patted her husband’s shoulder in sympathy, though neither her face nor her tone held any warmth. “You can love Halloween next year.”

James and Lily stood in the doorway of 12 Grimmauld place with Harry strapped to James’ chest. Sirius triple checked their bags before shrinking them down and putting them into a backpack and placing it onto Lily’s shoulders.

“Okay, explain the plan to me one more time.” He ordered the Potter’s.

Lily and James shared a quick glance before the former rolled her eyes.

“We’re heading to an undisclosed location. We are to set up protection wards the second we get there, and we are not to leave until Sirius’ patronus reaches us. If, in the event that we do not receive a patronus from Sirius or Moony in the next two days, we are to assume that the plan has failed. In that case, we are to begin heading west via muggle transportation and make our way to Ireland before boarding a flight to Canada where we are to remain for the rest of our lives.” She relayed to him in monotone.

Sirius beamed at her and kissed her cheek. “Right-o, Red! But, not to worry, you’ll be hearing from my patronus in no time.”

Remus watched with a small smile from the staircase. He knew Sirius was trying to stay positive mostly for himself; he’s been in such a state since you were taken, and he was running on fumes waiting with bated breath for this to be over so you could return home - return to him. He had so many questions about so many things; questions for you, questions for Regulus, questions for Dumbledore. Remus watched his friend become manic, almost as if Sirius was the one expecting the full moon at the beginning of next week. The friends tried to stay patient with him, but they were all looking forward to this being over.

“It’s me and my family they’re after, I should be here to end this.” James muttered.

“And you’re our family, Prongs. So, we’re here to end this.” Sirius responded.

“He didn’t just threaten you and Lily and Haz, he threatened all of us.” Remus added.

“I owe her my life, guys. I owe it to Vix to see this through.” He responded, shifting his gaze between his two friends.

Sirius’ eyes welled at the thought before he quickly shoved his feelings back down into his stomach – he’d deal with those later; for now, he had a megalomaniac to kill.

“You’ll have the rest of your life to make it up to her, Prongs.” He offered with as much a smile as he could muster.

James gave his friend a sad smile of his own before enveloping him in a bone crushing hug.

“I’ll see you soon, Pads.”

“Once the mischief is managed.” Sirius answered.

As Lily, James and Harry left Grimmauld place and apparated to location unknown, Remus and Sirius exchanged a look.

“Ready to finish this?” Sirius asked Remus.

“I’ve never been more ready for anything in my life.”

The clock tower in Godric’s Hollow’s town square rang signifying eight o’clock. Remus tried rubbing his clammy hands against his cloak, not wanting his hands to be slick when it came time to brandish his wand. Thankfully, with the full moon this close, and it (by the grace of every god) seeming to be a ‘manic moon’, Remus was at his strongest, and he would not be letting that go to waste.

The rancid smell of dark magic permeated Remus’ senses signifying the arrival of Voldemort and his last horcrux.

“My dear boy,” Voldemort sang out, “are you ready to face victory in the name of your Lord.”

“Absolutely, my Lord, it is my honour to help you see this through.” He responded verbatim to what Dumbledore coached him on.

“Lead the way.”

So, Remus did.

In what felt like a death march, Remus (as Peter Pettigrew), a twelve-foot snake and melted-wax figure looking Tom Riddle made their way to the Potter’s cottage in Godric’s Hollow. Remus listened to the sound of his heartbeat and Nagini’s skin sliding along the gravel lane as he unlatched the hook of the fence and made his way up to the door.

He looked behind him to see Voldemort smiling victoriously at the house as it materialized in front of him. Remus turned back to the red painted door and knocked three times, paused, knocked once, paused, knocked twice more.

“Come in!” The sound of Lily’s voice filtered through the wood of the door and Remus heaved a breath before opening it in front of him.

“Hey Pete!” James greeted as Remus stepped inside. “We just put the kid to bed, glad you could come by.”

Remus watched as James turned his back to the door and continued toward the kitchen whilst Voldemort and Nagini let themselves in. With a quick flick of Remus’ wand, the door shut and locked behind them. No way out now, fucker.

“Come on in, Peter! I’m just making something to drink, would you like one?” Lily called from somewhere in the house as the trio continued in, watching as a cat wandered its way towards the kitchen seemingly unawares of the company behind it.

As they passed a hallway leading to a half-bath, Padfoot began to bark.

“Oh, come now Pads, it’s just Peter! You know him.” James said as he came back out into the hallway where he saw his good friend Peter in the company of Nagini and Voldemort.

Voldemort whispered something in parseltongue and in response, Nagini poised to lunge.

When the snakes body elongated and her neck stretched as she launched to sink her fangs into James, Sirius had turned back into his regular form, and with the sword of Gryffindor swung at the snake, severing its head from the rest of its body; the snake’s body and its head fell to the ground with a sickening wet thud.

“No!” Voldemort cried before Dumbledore ripped the invisibility cloak from his form and Lily exited the kitchen. Suddenly, the forms of Lily, James and Peter and the actual Dumbledore, McGonagall and Sirius stood with their wands aimed at Voldemort.

“What have you done?” Voldemort seethed at Remus. Remus smirked in response.

“I won.” He said simply.

Voldemort growled as he pulled his wand from his cloak, blocking an expelliarmus from Dumbledore and a bombarda from Sirius.

“Incarcerous!” McGonagall shouted and Voldemort was bound by invisible restraints.

Dumbledore stupefied the flailing Tom Riddle and the six exchanged glances.

“Did...did we do it? Did we just...stop Voldemort?” Sirius whispered.

“It feels sort of anti-climactic, does it not?” Lily asked before she cast a quick finite over herself, revealing Narcissa Black. Remus opted to follow suit and shed the skin of his rat of a friend.

“Narcissa?!” Sirius balked, earning him a smirk.

“Hello, cousin.”

“But, why? How?” he asked.

James followed suit and cast a finite, melting away the enchantment and leaving behind the form of Regulus Black, causing Sirius to choke back tears.

“Reggie...” he whispered reverently.

“Sirius.” Regulus responded with a curt nod, seemingly unable to meet his brothers’ eyes.

A sob tore its way through Sirius as he lunged himself at Regulus and embraced his little brother. “I can’t believe you’re alive.”

“Disappointed?” Regulus asked, seemingly unable to figure out what to do with his own arms which were pinned under Sirius’ grasp.

“No, not in the slightest.” Sirius answered honestly as he pulled himself back from his brother only to bring his hands up to clasp either side of his brother’s face and scrutinize him. “You’re really okay?”

Regulus’ brows scrunched together at his brother’s words. “Could be worse.” Regulus responded in a whisper.

“Why don’t we catch up later, once we have everyone together again?” Narcissa offered with a soft smile. This seemed to snap Sirius into action.

“Yes! Okay, yes. Let’s go get Y/N and then we can send the Potter’s a patronus!” He exclaimed as if were a child being told they were heading to the mall to meet Santa.

Remus chuckled and even Regulus seemed to smirk at his brother.

“You go, Minerva and I will escort Mr. Riddle here to the Ministry.” Dumbledore said with a wink at his four former students. “Thank you all, for your bravery and cunningness today.”

The four offered Dumbledore varying levels of smiles: Remus a wide one, Narcissa a polite one, Regulus’ looked more like a grimace and Sirius’ mouth stayed downturned as they watched the headmaster and deputy headmistress leave with Voldemort in tow.

“Let’s get the band back together.” Remus announced, and Narcissa held out a portkey for Remus and Sirius to use to travel to Malfoy Manor.

“See you there.” Narcissa said as she and Regulus spun and apparated to return to you.

Regulus and Narcissa were just heading toward the vine covered gate when Remus and Sirius fell unceremoniously from the sky.

“Fuck, I hate portkey’s” Sirius commented as he stood with a grimace and wiped grass stains off his jacket.

“Don’t be so dramatic.” Narcissa commented from her place as the two men joined her.

“That’s like asking a fish not to swim, dear Cissy.” Sirius responded with a smirk.

Narcissa gave him a fond eyeroll before leading the way to the hidden library.

“PUT THE BOY DOWN!” The shrill voice of Bellatrix could be heard. The sound caused each of their throats to tighten as they all took off in a run towards the library.

“Get away from us!” Sirius heard you shout back.

As the four of them rounded the corner, Sirius saw you standing with a crying Draco Malfoy in your one arm as you bounced him consolingly while your wand was in the other aimed at Bellatrix in front of you. Behind Bellatrix stood Barty Crouch Junior and Mulciber.

“Bella!” Narcissa called causing the witch to turn her onyx gaze on her for a second, though her wand never faltered in its aim at you.

“WHAT HAVE YOU DONE, NARCISSA?!” She screeched.

“Bellatrix, get away from my son this instant.” Narcissa barked. Remus took this opportunity to try to move closer to you and Draco, which earned a purple spell being shot at him from Junior’s wand.

Suddenly emersed in some kind of gothic-style Western standoff, every witch and wizard in the library had their wands pointed at someone and someone’s wand pointed at them. One errant sneeze and someone would avada or be avada’d.

“Bella, you’re frightening Draco.” Narcissa tried quietly.

“He’s frightened, Cissa, because you’ve left him alone with the likes of a FILTHY MUDBLOOD.”

“It’s over, Bellatrix.” Sirius shouted. “Voldemort has been captured, he’s on his way to Azkaban as we speak.”

Bellatrix’s already rage filled face contorted in pure outrage. As the Death Eaters were distracted by the news of their leaders down fall, Regulus and Remus began duelling with Mulciber and Junior. Narcissa and Sirius both shot curses and hexes at Bellatrix at the same time, but she quickly defected.

“You, you-you FILTHY BLOOD TRAITOR. You’ve betrayed your kind and defied OUR LORD, YOU INSOLENT-” As Bellatrix continued to rage, you began to slowly side-step your way over to Narcissa and Sirius while cooing at Draco. Sirius kept his gaze locked on you as you kept yours on Bellatrix, and both of your wands stayed on their mark. Remus had Mulciber in a muggle choke hold looking far too pleased with himself as Regulus cast an expeliarmus at Junior.

“YOU SHOULD BE DEAD! I KNEW BETTER THAN TO LET THOSE STUPID, STUPID MEN USE YOU AS THEIR PLAYTHING.” Bellatrix seethed at you, now standing directly beside Sirius, keeping the arm holding Draco just behind him. “YOU WEREN’T EVEN GOOD ENOUGH FOR A WHORE!”

At this, Sirius shot a curse at her which she deflected and began rallying more off. Bellatrix brought her other hand up to her hair and then swung her hand forward. Flying towards Sirius, you and Draco was Bellatrix’s cursed blade.

Narcissa took but half a step to her right, placing herself directly in front of you as she cast an avada kadavra at her sister. Bellatrix’s eyes rolled back as she fell to the ground with a thud and the room became deathly quiet save Draco’s sniffles.

“Oh my gods.” Sirius breathed.

Remus and Regulus were readying their captives for the Auror department as Sirius turned to face his cousin, only to find her holding her chest as blood seeped through her robes and fingers.

Narcissa slowly began sinking to the ground as you gasped and held Draco’s head to your shoulder to shield his view.

“Cissa, no!” Sirius cried as he helped lower his cousin onto the rug. Narcissa took some gasping breaths as she looked at Sirius and you, and then at her son.

“Y/N.” Narcissa called weakly.

“I’m here, Narcissa.” You offered through a sob.

“Take care of my son. Take care of Draco, please.” She begged you.

She turned her gaze to Sirius. “I want better for him. I don’t-I don’t want...” She trailed off as she choked, blood appearing in the corners of her mouth. “I don’t want him to be raised with so much hate. I want – I want him to only know love.”

She looked back to you as you bounced her son back and forth. “Make sure he knows love for me?”

You nodded emphatically as tears trailed down your face. “I promise to do good by you; both of you. He will always be safe with us, Narcissa.”

“And loved.” Sirius added.

Narcissa smiled at the two of you. “Thank you.” She said as she closed her eyes and let out a shuddering breath.

Narcissa Black Malfoy was many things. She was a daughter, a sister, and a cousin. She was a wife, and new mother. She was a Slytherin, a noble woman, and a powerful witch.

Narcissa Black Malfoy was extremely loyal. And it was this last trait that cost Narcissa her life.

Continue to the finale here.

346 notes · View notes

iamnmbr3 · 28 days

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Time to discuss drarry moment number 923074037286 in HBP. I think it's really notable how in the aftermath of Dumbledore's death Harry not only canonically doesn't feel angry at Draco at all despite feeling murderous rage towards Snape, but actually goes out of his way to recount events in a way that shifts blame away from Draco as much as possible.

First, Tonks asks how Dumbledore died and we get this bit:

"Snape killed him," said Harry. "I was there, I saw it. We arrived back on the Astronomy Tower because that's where the Mark was . . . Dumbledore was ill, he was weak, but I think he realized it was a trap when we heard footsteps running up the stairs. He immobilized me, I couldn't do anything, I was under the Invisibility Cloak -- and then Malfoy came through the door and disarmed him--" Hermione clapped her hands to her mouth and Ron groaned. Luna's mouth trembled. "-- more Death Eaters arrived -- and then Snape -- and Snape did it. The Avada Kedavra."

Harry says there was a trap but doesn't mention anything about it having been a trap planned and set by Draco.

He uses passive, distancing language that doesn't even make it clear whose footsteps they heard on the stairs or under what circumstances Draco disarmed Dumbledore.

He doesn't mention anything about Draco having been assigned to kill Dumbledore, and almost makes it sound like he could've just happened on them and disarmed Dumbledore as a reflex or even in self defense.

And then he doesn't say that Draco held Dumbledore there at bay for a while, instead leaving it ambiguous as to whether the other Death Eaters arrived right away on Draco's heels.

And that's it. That's all he says. He puts all the focus and blame on Snape. Only several pages later when McGonagall asks how the Death Eaters got in does Harry even explain about the Vanishing Cabinets. Specifically the text says:

[H]e explained, briefly, about the pair of Vanishing Cabinets and the magical pathway they formed.

Again we see the same passive, distancing language that we saw when Harry mentioned "footsteps" on the stairs but didn't clearly say whose. It says he explained about the cabinets rather than something like "he explained about Malfoy's treachery and his plan to use the pair of Vanishing Cabinets to let Death Eaters into the school."

Harry directs the focus away from Draco and Draco's intent and involvement. I'm not sure this is even on a conscious level. His words are mimicking what his mind and his emotions are doing.

When someone asks what Snape shouted to the other Death Eaters as he ran past we get this:

"He shouted, 'It's over,'" said Harry. "He'd done what he'd meant to do."

Harry says he'd done what he - Snape - meant to do. Not what Draco had meant to do. Or what they'd planned together. So once again we see that Harry avoids blaming Draco or even revealing his full role in what happened.

And then, most interestingly, not till later when he's alone with McGonagall does he reveal that Rosmerta is being controlled. And the way he recounts it is REALLY striking.

"There's one thing you should know before the Ministry gets here, though. Madam Rosmerta's under the Imperius Curse, she was helping Malfoy and the Death Eaters, that's how the necklace and the poisoned mead--"

Again the use of passive language. He says that she is under the Imperius Curse rather than that Draco put her under the Imperius curse. In fact, he avoids directly blaming Draco at all. Harry merely says that she has been put under the Imperius curse by someone and that she was forced to pass on the necklace and the poisoned mead, leaving it ambiguous who cursed her and on whose orders she did those things, thus shielding Draco from blame.

He only brings up Draco to say that Rosmerta had been helping him and the Death Eaters rather than that it was Draco specifically who was controlling her. Given that the use of an Unforgivable Curse carries a life sentence in Azkaban this phrasing is certainly interesting. And it means that if Rosmerta did not see who originally cursed her, she might not be able to say who forced her to help Draco or possibly even whose idea it was to send the necklace and the mead into the school. That would make Harry the only witness who could prove Draco's guilt, and seemingly he doesn't want to do that.

Also. Draco IS a Death Eater. Harry's known it since the beginning of the year. And yet he says "Malfoy and the Death Eaters," because without even realizing it, he mentally puts Draco in a different category.

And then the next time Harry thinks of Malfoy is when he's looking towards where Draco usually sits and thinking about how Crabbe and Goyle look "lonely" without him even though given the tensions between them that we see in books 6 and 7 it's almost certain that they don't miss him at all. It seems much more likely that Harry is actually projecting his own feelings. In this context we get this bit of internal narration:

His animosity was all for Snape, but he had not forgotten the fear in Malfoy's voice on that tower top, nor the fact that he had lowered his wand before the other Death Eaters arrived.

I mean just what? All? ALL of his animosity? Draco is the one who let Death Eaters into the castle. He disarmed Dumbledore, thus (seemingly) enabling Snape to kill him. He also got Bill permanently maimed (though he didn't intend for that to happen).

If Harry simply felt nothing for Draco but dislike I don't think these circumstances would put him in the best mindset to start empathizing with him. Harry has a temper. You'd think he'd disregard all the extenuating circumstances and blame Draco for Dumbledore's death too.

I mean this is some of his narration about Snape, for example:

"So when he arrived at the fight, he joined in on the Death Eaters' side?" asked Harry, who wanted every detail of Snape's duplicity and infamy, feverishly collecting more reasons to hate him, to swear vengeance.

But no. That's not how he feels about Draco at all. In fact after thinking about how his animosity is all for Snape and dwelling with pity and concern on how afraid Draco looked and how he had lowered his wand, Harry actually starts wondering where Draco is and worrying about him and about what Voldemort is "making" him do now.

Because despite their rivalry, there's more between Harry and Draco than simple dislike. Harry understands him deeply. And he's immediately ready to sympathize with him and to protect him.

For all that they are stranded on opposite sides of a brewing war, they also have things in common. Harry is drawn to Draco and he cares about him. He knows Draco isn't a murderer and he can't bring himself to even pretend to hate him anymore. He just wants him to be safe.

#drarry #drarry meta #Harry Potter #Harry Potter meta #my meta #hpdm #Draco Malfoy #harry/draco #draco/harry #harry x draco #draco x harry #h/d #harco #drarry in canon #harry potter and the half blood prince #meta #my post

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ttulipwritezz · 2 months

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King Of My Heart (Body And Soul)~ R. Lupin.

Chapter 3 - Helpless

Ootp! Remus Lupin x Sirius's sister!Reader

Synopsis: When James and Lily died, and your brother was sent to Azkaban, Remus was the only person you had left. Until he left too. What happens when he returns after the events of Sirius's escape, only to find out you have a son? A son that's his.

WC: 2.2 k

Warnings: lots of italics, probably grammatical mistakes, kiss(es), might be ooc idk, child (?), fem reader, italics are flashbacks and thoughts ( idk), love (ew), Sirius is back, mentions of torture, abuse, walburga black, abandonment, fear of feeling helpless, screaming ig, abandonment [ look at series masterlist for all content warnings]

A/n: I am actually so, so proud of this chapter. It's slightly longer than the others and a little more angsty. LOTS of conflicting feelings. Remus is kind of an ass, but no one's perfect :) But I’ll have it be less sad in the next few chapters following ch 4. I think? Thanks for reading and please reblog and/or comment. If you like this :) likes don't do much on tumblr <3

Series Masterlist, Main Masterlist, Navigation

With a furrow of his brows, Remus glanced towards Sirius when the two of you made your way to the dining hall for the order meeting.

If Sirius noticed, he didn’t say anything. Molly ushered the children out of the hall and Kingsley started the meeting.

They began with new information and ended with assigned missions. With your absence from the order for so long, you seemed to be the least informed amongst them all. So far you knew that Kingsley worked for the ministry and was secretly helping lead the order under Dumbledore's guidance.

And that there was an incredibly intelligent woman at the end of the table. Nymphadora Tonks. Don’t call her that though.

The name Tonks was awfully familiar to you. Until it clicked. She was your niece! Your cousin’s daughter.

Oh how she’d grown up.

Along with this, you got to know about Peter’s betrayal and how he had framed your brother. Peter… You really did treasure his friendship at one point. You grieved him just as you had the others. To know that he was a traitor and sent your brother to Azkaban and was partially responsible for your husband's leaving, left you seething, to say the least.

You wanted to crush that thick skull of his with your bare hands.

Noticing your discomfort, Sirius put a hand over yours, so as to say…you’re okay.

“you’re okay. You’re okay” At this point you weren’t sure whether Sirius’s words were meant to convince you or convince himself. His chest rising and falling rapidly to accommodate his frantic state.

Walburga’s yelling could be heard from the other room.

“YOU DISGRACE! YOU IMBECILE! GET BACK HERE THIS INSTANT!” Her yelling did little to calm your trembling and even littler to quiet your sobs.

You do not know what began another one of her scoldings, you don’t remember what you’d done to be on its receiving end yet again. All you knew is that Sirius was punished with the cruciatus curse and you were going to be next. Despite his state, all Sirius thought about was you. How his baby sister was hurt, scared and in so much pain.

That night Sirius left, with you, nothing but his wand and jacket hung about his arm as he led a trembling you out of the house and ran.

That night Sirius ran, he ran till his legs burned. His calves ached and his chest heaved. He ran and ran and ran. He ran to the only place he could think of. He ran.

“Don’t you dare come back! You disgrace to the Black Family name!” Walburg’s words were still ringing in his ears by the time he made it to potter manor, and you weren’t in a much better state yourself.

As soon as the door opened to the frantic knocking, it seemed as though all the adrenaline left Sirius's body and he collapsed right into James's arms. You stood there, eyes stinging, heavy with exhaustion. That was when you truly felt helpless.

The next morning, you awoke to voices. Not the ones in your head, ones from outside. With little energy you opened up your eyes. The brightness of the morning sun blinded you for a moment, and that suffocating feeling came back.

You sat up so fast that your head started to spin. Your eyes were wide and your breathing erratic.

As you were ready to look around your surroundings, ready to see exactly where Walburga had put you again, a hand came into your field of vision. A bruised hand, ready to help.

Sirius gently hovered his hands over your cheek, careful as to not touch you. His eyes held the utmost kindness and compassion. He had woken up from one too many nightmares himself.

“Y/n?” His voice was unsure yet it provided you with the comfort you seeked at the moment.

Your shoulders relaxed and you Jumped forward to embrace him. You were safe, you were okay.

Once most of the order members left, You began to count just how many people will be staying at grimmauld place for the time being.

You had a place further away from this merlin forsaken house. That felt like home. This didn't

You and Regulus had only shown up a couple days ago to tidy up and be prepared. Technically, you owned it, and there was nothing your mother’s portrait that hung in the second floor corridor could do about it. She was dead.

The Weasleys, Harry, Hermione and Sirius were all staying, there was more than enough room for them. What you dreaded was Remus’s presence.

Gathering up all the courage you could, you decided to talk to Remus. No time like the present! Should be a piece of cake!

Wrong.

Remus avoided you every chance he got. And you can’t blame him.

Okay...perhaps you were avoiding him a teeny, tiny, itty, bitty bit as well…

Okay! you were avoiding him fully.

But you can’t blame yourself! It’s hard.

What are you supposed to say?

“Oh hey husband who left me to process severe trauma and grief on my own..you have a KID! He’s 13! You know him already! :D ”

Making faces at your inner monologue wasn’t helping though, because you jumped the moment your eyes caught a figure leaning against the doorway, right arm up against the arch as the other finds purchase on his hip.

Remus.

Remus, your husband, was watching you make faces at yourself to talk to yourself for the past..you don’t know how long.

For a moment you just stared at each other, blinking and making no noise.

Then a smile broke out on his face, which subsequently led to one on yours.

He was the first to break the silence.

“So…How are you?” he pursed his lips after he spoke.

Strange, you considered. That’s how he begins a conversation?

Your eyes move across the room, he’s staring straight at you. It feels like he can see right through you. That he can see the gears turning in your head.

“I’ve met Regulus before…At Hogwarts, I mean. I was his DADA professor.” He says after noticing your silence.

Getting a noise of affirmation from you in return encourages his to speak further.

“Who is he? To you? I know the name isn’t exactly new” His head tilted to the side in the way a kicked puppy's would.

From where you’re standing, in the little light, you can see his adam's apple bobbing up and down as he gulps, nervousness obvious throughout his being.

You don't lead with “he’s your son”. No. You begin short and simple.

“He’s my son.”

You hope your voice doesn't reflect the fact that a lump has formed in your throat. You hoped your voice wasn't trembling like your hands.

A look washes over Remus's face. One you’d describe as recognition…or perhaps disappointment. In you or himself, that you wouldn't know.

Being from the Black family, you never hid your true thoughts. Feelings? sure, but thoughts? No.

“Disappointed are you? In me or yourself?”

There was a sass to your words you didn't expect. Once again a smile seems to tug at Remus's lips, stretching the scar, you didn't recognise yet, ever so slightly.

“Ever the witty one, my love” his words were airy. More relaxed.

Certainly too relaxed for your taste. There was no way he was so apathetic towards this. Not when it hurts you like a thousand hexes.

“Don't.”

You don't know what gave you the sudden strength, the sudden courage, to stand your ground. What made you narrow your eyes and cross your arms.

What made you suddenly reject the light atmosphere he had created, while you so clearly longed to be in his arms. Heaving a sigh, you continued.

“You don't get to just come back and call me your love. You can't do that to me. Not again.”

Your voice was but a mere whisper towards the end of your sentance.

Not again. That's what you told yourself when you saw Remus this morning. You weren't going to throw yourself into his arms again.

But how could you not when his arms just looked so warm and comfortable?

How could you when you’d spent fourteen years without them?

You were hoping he’d pick up the forgiving glint in your eyes and apologise.

His gaze flickered throughout the room. As if somehow that would answer you. First the lamp, in the furthest corner. Then the carpet caught his attention. Then suddenly the marble countertop seemed oh so interesting.

After what felt like hours, but really must've been a minute, he began to break the silence.

“Right…uhh-”

You watched as he paused, a divot appearing in between his brows, scrunching together, as a look of realisation crossed his features.

“-how old is he?”

The words escaped him with urgency, as if knowing this was extremely crucial.

It was, you just didn't know that.

“He’s fourteen- will be this year.”

Your mind was racing with thoughts, surely Remus wouldn't need to ask something so trivial.

It felt as though you could see the gears turning in his mind. He was so deep into thought.

But then his eyebrows shot up and his eyes widened.

“He’s mine.” He wasn't asking though, despite it sounding more like a question than affirmative.

That, you didn't expect.

And now you were the one who’s gaze was skittering across the room in hopes of finding an answer.

He knows. He knows. Oh Merlin he knows!

“He’s mine.”

Remus repeats, his voice comes out choked. As if he was ready to cry any moment.

Hearing a sniffle, you looked up to see Remus bringing his hand up to his face, which was rather red, and covering his eyes much like a little kid would.

You felt horrible, how could you hide this from him.

No. You did the right thing. He didn't want you. He wouldn't want Regulus either. He left! Awful. Awful! Bad!

“I have a son?”

You could definitely hear the tears in his voice, his light, choked up sobs echoed through the room.

Hey, that's how you reacted when you found out too.

You felt the sudden need to apologise. You shouldn't have to.

“Yes.”

You settled on that. Yes. That's all he needed to know.

A flurry of questions bombarded his mind.

“Why didn't you tell me?”

He looked angry. Why was he angry? He has no right to be angry.

You were furious.

“Why do you think Remus? Why do you think I hid him from you? Are you that daft!?”

An incredulous chuckle accompanied your words. You were seething. And you weren't done, so you continued.

“You left me! James and Lily died! My brother was sent to Azkaban. And you left!”

Your volume was rising by the second. You're certain a little more and the whole house would hear it.

Maybe also hear the sound of your heart breaking along with.

You felt ridiculous. How is he angry at this? He has no right.

“If you’d told me I would have stayed! How long had you known!?”

If you told him.

He wouldn't have stayed for you. He would have stayed for the kid.

Not for you.

“Two weeks before-”

You managed to get out before he interrupted you.

“And you didn't think to tell me!?”

Why did he have to say it like that? Like he hated you?

It hurt.

“I tried.”

Your chest felt heavy as you uttered those words. It felt like a wound had reopened.

Once again you were meek. You felt like a child being reprimanded by their parent. You've had a fair share of that already. You didn't need more.

You felt...helpless.

This was your husband. He wasn't supposed to be angry at you.

Suddenly all the feelings you’d been shoving down came right up.

“No Remus. You have no right! You cannot come back after years and pretend that we are fine! I did the right thing Remus. And I will not have you make me believe otherwise.”

You felt ridiculous. Yet again, he has made you feel small. That didn't happen before.

Remus, your remus always made you feel loved. And seen.

This isn't your Remus.

“I don't know who you are. I know I did the right thing. I know…”

Right?

You shook your head as you spoke those words, you seemed to close in on yourself. Backing away until you couldn't. You can't do this right now.

His words seemed so collected when he replied. As much as they could, when he had been sobbing a moment ago. They still held anger in them.

“But I am his father.”

A gasp echoes through the empty corridor.

Not yours…

Regulus's.

"He is my father?”

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hollowed-theory-hall · 13 days

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Ok so Harry has a tendency to blatantly state out loud just how much the Dursleys don't give two shits about him (to the point that the people around him think it's just a typical teenager over exaggerating their complaints), but... Does he realise that the way he is being treated by them is wrong?

Also like, I know that the way the Dursleys treated him plays a huge part in the way Harry behaves and views himself- specifically him not thinking an adult is a reliable source of help and protection + his disastrouly low self esteem + how he doesn't respond to Snape's everything (which is the exact opposite of what James would have done) ... But what are the other ways in which he got affected and it shows? (Someone once mentioned that they hc that when feeling extreme emotions Harry tends to skip out on food and may have nearly wasted away in his second year had it not been for Ron and Hermione- which is also why they act so much like Harry's bodyguards)

Yep, Harry put no effort into hiding his abuse. He literally told anyone who would listen. By 5th year, he was making jokes about it to Ron and Hermione who seemed used to it.

Now, you've raised a few questions and I'll try to answer them to the best of my ability.

Does he realise that the way he is being treated by them is wrong?

I think he does. Most of his comments about his relatives' treatment definitely sound like Harry is very aware that he shouldn't be treated like that.

“I told you, I didn’t — but it’ll take too long to explain now — look, can you tell them at Hogwarts that the Dursleys have locked me up and won’t let me come back, and obviously I can’t magic myself out, because the Ministry’ll think that’s the second spell I’ve done in three days, so —” “Stop gibbering,” said Ron. “We’ve come to take you home with us.” “But you can’t magic me out either —” “We don’t need to,” said Ron, jerking his head toward the front seat and grinning. “You forget who I’ve got with me.” “Tie that around the bars,” said Fred, throwing the end of a rope to Harry. “If the Dursleys wake up, I’m dead,” said Harry as he tied the rope tightly around a bar and Fred revved up the car. “Don’t worry,” said Fred, “and stand back.”

(COS, page 31)

“It was cloudy, Mum!” said Fred. “You keep your mouth closed while you’re eating!” Mrs. Weasley snapped. “They were starving him, Mum!” said George. “And you!” said Mrs. Weasley, but it was with a slightly softened expression that she started cutting Harry bread and buttering it for him.

(COS, page 39)

But Harry wasn’t going to stand for this. Gone were the days when he had been forced to take every single one of the Dursleys’ stupid rules.

(GOF, page 33)

“Excellent,” said Lupin, looking up as Tonks and Harry entered. “We’ve got about a minute, I think. We should probably get out into the garden so we’re ready. Harry, I’ve left a letter telling your aunt and uncle not to worry —” “They won’t,” said Harry. “That you’re safe —” “That’ll just depress them.” “— and you’ll see them next summer.” “Do I have to?” Lupin smiled but made no answer.

(OOTP, page 54)

“You don’t seem to need many qualifications to liaise with Muggles. . . . All they want is an O.W.L. in Muggle Studies. . . . ‘Much more important is your enthusiasm, patience, and a good sense of fun!’ ” “You’d need more than a good sense of fun to liaise with my uncle,” said Harry darkly. “Good sense of when to duck, more like . . .”

(OOTP, page 657)

It seems Harry is very much aware that the way he is being treated is wrong. the younger Weasleys and Hermione are clearly aware of that too. Harry calls the Dursleys' rules stupid, he knows the Dursleys aren't treating him the way they should and that he doesn't have to take it. That he shouldn't have to take it.

Harry is kind of a best-case scenario of an abused kid and Dumbledore was so lucky Harry ended up functional enough for his plans. It could've so easily gone down differently.

Honestly, I'm enraged on Harry's behalf at how Arthur, Molly, and Lupin (and every other adult) just completely ignore his mistreatment. He really does just state plainly what's going on and has Ron, Fred, George, and Hermione backing up everything he says.

What are the other ways in which he got affected and it shows?

I do like when Harry's approach to food is affected by the Dursleys starving him, that being said, there isn't really any book evidence for it. It's an interesting headcanon to explore though. His low self-esteem, willingness to endanger himself, and his thinking that adults be counted on are definitely effects seen in the books. As for other things we do see in the books:

1. Harry is actually really quiet. He doesn't speak as much as Ron and Hermione and he's pretty awkward with social interaction. He mimics Ron in many ways since he never had any friends before him.

His approach to studying is one of the ways he mimics Ron socially. Harry actually read their school books before 1st year, he found Hedwig's name in a History of Magic. And he planned to study at the beginning of Philosopher's Stone. Then he meets Ron and realizes no one in Gryffindor except Hermione actually studies, and she is hated for it. So he didn't bother studying either, even though he planned to because he wanted to fit in.

2. Harry isn't great at emotional regulation, specifically anger. Harry is a pretty angry character and throughout the books, he actually has moments when he completely loses himself to a sense of anger.

A boiling hate erupted in Harry’s chest, leaving no place for fear. For the first time in his life, he wanted his wand back in his hand, not to defend himself, but to attack . . . to kill.

(POA, page 339)

“Madame Maxime!” said Fleur at once, striding over to her headmistress. “Zey are saying zat zis little boy is to compete also!” Somewhere under Harry’s numb disbelief he felt a ripple of anger. Little boy?

(GOF, page 275)

Harry sat there staring at Snape as the lesson began, picturing horrific things happening to him. . . . If only he knew how to do the Cruciatus Curse . . . he’d have Snape flat on his back like that spider, jerking and twitching. . . .

(GOF, page 300)

If Dudley’s friends saw him sitting here, they would be sure to make a beeline for him, and what would Dudley do then? He wouldn’t want to lose face in front of the gang, but he’d be terrified of provoking Harry. . . . It would be really fun to watch Dudley’s dilemma; to taunt him, watch him, with him powerless to respond . . . and if any of the others tried hitting Harry, Harry was ready — he had his wand . . . let them try . . . He’d love to vent some of his frustration on the boys who had once made his life hell —

(OOTP, page 11)

He does calm down the older he gets. But he definitely has a lot of anger in him.

3. Harry, in general, has a disrespect for authority. I assume this is an extension of his distrust of adults, in that no teacher or nurse ever helped him. Harry is so anti-authority and anti-orders, that he can resist the Imperius Curse decently from the first try.

Harry just doesn't do orders or authority. Actually in the earlier books, and even in books 6 and 7, Harry has his doubts about Dumbledore. He repeatedly tells people he's Dumbledore's man, but in his head, he has doubts. Like he has for any other adult with authority over him.

“Dumbledore’s been driven out of this castle by the mere memory of me!” he hissed. “He’s not as gone as you might think!” Harry retorted. He was speaking at random, wanting to scare Riddle, wishing rather than believing it to be true —

(COS, page 282)

“Because the Ministry of Magic’s still after me, and Voldemort will know all about me being an Animagus by now, Wormtail will have told him, so my big disguise is useless. There’s not much I can do for the Order of the Phoenix . . . or so Dumbledore feels.” There was something about the slightly flattened tone of voice in which Sirius uttered Dumbledore’s name that told Harry that Sirius was not very happy with the headmaster either. Harry felt a sudden upsurge of affection for his godfather.

(OOTP, pages 82-83)

He's very distrusting of adults and authority, but also his peers. He doesn't tell Ron and Hermione everything in the earlier books because he is very slow to trust. Which, makes sense for someone who grew up like he did.

4. His occasional impulsiveness is an extension of his issues with emotional regulation, I think.

5. I think Harry's cunning Slytherin streak is a result of his abuse. The Dursleys' mistreatment taught him to sneak around, to lie, to be clever. It taught him to keep a blank face when being yelled at because if he reacted it'll make it worse.

He learned how to insult the Dursleys in ways that go over Dudley's head. His little way to rebel.

6. His response to pain as well. We see it with Umbridge and the blood quill for example:

He let out a gasp of pain. The words had appeared on the parchment in what appeared to be shining red ink. At the same time, the words had appeared on the back of Harry’s right hand, cut into his skin as though traced there by a scalpel — yet even as he stared at the shining cut, the skin healed over again, leaving the place where it had been slightly redder than before but quite smooth. Harry looked around at Umbridge. She was watching him, her wide, toadlike mouth stretched in a smile. “Yes?” “Nothing,” said Harry quietly. He looked back at the parchment, placed the quill upon it once more, wrote I must not tell lies, and felt the searing pain on the back of his hand for a second time

(OOTP, page 267)

Harry can hide his pain and not react to it, and he does it well. He learned from the Dursleys that she wants to see his pain, and he isn't going to give her what she wants. Instead, he grits his teeth through it and doesn't react externally.

Even later in the book when Umbridge threatens with the Crociatus Curse, Harry just braces himself for it, not planning to break (in later books too, Harry is very willing to get hurt and just deal with it). He is willing to take torture without reacting, and I think this is something he got from the Dursleys.

These are the some other things that came to mind regarding your question. There are probably more that I can't think of now that I might add later. Harry is who he is in part because of his nightmare of a childhood. So many facets of his personality just link back to it.

#harry potter #hp #asks #harry james potter #harry potter analysis

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shanastoryteller · 3 months

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HAPPY WINTER SOLACE SHANA HELL YEAH I MADE IT IN TIME!!! CAN I GET ME SOME TONKS AND PERCY AS A BIRTHDAY TREAT? 👉🏻👈🏻 (My birthday is the 22nd) HAVE AN AWESOME HOLIDAY! 🎄🎄🎄

Percy is supposed to focusing on these reports that he technically shouldn’t have taken out of the office, but technically Crouch is supposed to be handling these, so.

While his absolute piece of shit apartment usually holds no more appeal than being stuck in the office overnight, it currently has Tonks resting with her head on his thigh “resting her eyes” since she refuses to go to bed before him because she believes in blackmail and manipulation. Which he can’t reasonably say he’s surprised by, considering, but it is a little inconvenient.

His work is important or he wouldn’t be doing it, but if he falls asleep at work the worst that happens is he embarrasses himself. If Tonks goes out on a call without getting proper rest, she could be putting herself in danger. Leveraging her own safety to get him to sleep is underhanded and irresponsible.

She’s going to do exceptionally well working under Shackbolt. He’d plucked her out from the other trainees from the beginning. It has nothing to do with him, but he can’t help the smug furl of pride anyway.

He clears his throat and her eyes flutter open. She has to blink a couple times for them to settle to her natural dark brown, cycling through several shades of blue and yellow. He wonders what she was dreaming about. “Bill has a meeting at Gringott’s on Thursday. He’s going to come by the office after and we’re going to go to the cafeteria to catch up.”

“That sounds nice,” she says, turning to press her face into his stomach and rubbing her nose against his sweater. He makes a mental note to try and talk to the landlord about doing something about the heating system, or at least refreshing the charms himself, but he’s not good enough to make them last long. Maybe Bill wouldn’t mind doing it before he returns to Egypt? “Are you done going through the Russian reports?”

No. Translation charms are imperfect and it takes him forever to parse through and figure out what’s actually being described. If Crouch wasn’t such a dick to them, they’d submit in English. “Do you want to join us? If you can. It’s okay if you don’t want to.”

That gets her attention. “Really? I mean, sure. I’m pretty sure I’ve spoke to Bill twice ever. One time he gave me detention.”

His lips twitch. Bill remembers that. “Thank you. He wants to meet my girlfriend. Or re-meet, technically.”

She beams, so pleased whenever he calls her that. She’s been calling herself his girlfriend for a months, but it still makes him warm to see how pleased she is with the title. He’d really though he was just a passing interest, a distraction while she was desk bound, but she’s still here. “Yeah, of course. It’ll be fun!”

He hums in agreement, the sound interrupted midway with a yawn.

“Come on,” she says, pushing herself to her feet then tugging him up after her. “We both need sleep. That’ll all still be there in the morning.”

That’s the problem. But he says, “Alright,” and lets her maneuver him as she likes.

Giving in to Tonks doesn’t sting like it does with other people. It’s always a relief and a pleasure to see her satisfied and happy.

#HAPPY BIRTHDAY i hope it was a great day!!!#asks #lance-with-a-chance-of-anxiety #prompt answers #prompts are closed #harry potter #siat #aaaannnd that's a wrap!#holiday prompts are done

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wolfstarshipping · 4 months

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wolfstar wips

So I'm using the @hprecfest day 12 prompt "a WIP you're following" to post a short rec list of WIPs that has been sitting in my drafts for so long now I even had to remove a fic that had been finished in the meanwhile!

Something rotten in Grimmauld Place by @plecotusauritus (8,802 words, Hamlet AU) This is a wolfstar Hamlet AU, need I say more?? I've never much cared or thought about Hamlet since I read it in school but this fic (almost) makes me want to reread Hamlet and I can't wait to see where the story goes next, I love the atmosphere this fic captures, the lovely writing style and just seeing all these characters we know so well fit into the plot of Hamlet is so, so cool!!

the oldest recipe for parsnip soup by @eyra (10.639 words, modern AU, christmas fic) Getting another fic by eyra for the holidays has been such a wonderful treat! I love the whole setting and the characters of this fic so much already, especially Sirius!! And the writing and all the descriptions are so, so beautiful, as always, highly recommend checking it out!!

Welcome to Aphrodite by @de-sire-blog & @rhabarberjunge (18.957 words, magical AU, secret identities) this is one of those fics I've read a while ago, but I keep thinking about it because I loved it so much. I don't want to give away too much of the plot, but the premise is Sirius finding a hidden, adults-only club that makes people's secret desires come true, and of course Sirius's secret desire is Remus... It's hot, it's fun, and it's incredibly angsty, I love it.

Stitched into My Skin by @squintclover (19.297 words, canon divergent AU, memory loss) I love the heartache and all the bittersweetness that comes with memory loss fics so much already, and I am so obsessed with the way it's been done in this fic. The premise of the fic is Peter casting a memory loss charm on Sirius on October 31st 1981, which leads to Remus raising Harry and randomly coming across Sirius years later, only Sirius doesn't remember him. I'm so intrigued by the first few chapters already and can't wait to see where the story goes next!

Marauder FM by @hollyivydruzy (26.402 words, modern AU, radio AU, enemies to friends to lovers) I know I've recced this fic before but I will never shut up about it because I love it, and especially this fic's Remus so, so much! It's an iconic, funny radio AU set in London, and I wish the radio shows from this fic were real because I would listen to Sirius's radio show every morning if I could. I just love the vibe of all of them working at the radio station together and the slow burn enemies to friends (to lovers) is so delicious!

The Patchwork of Us by @tracingpatternswrites (27.502 words, modern AU, enemies to lovers, co-parenting Teddy) This is such a lovely fic about Sirius and Remus navigating the difficult situation of co-parenting Teddy after Tonks dies, I love the domesticity and the enemies to lovers vibe of this fic so much!

The Picture of Sirius Black by @lynxindisguise (30.049 words, Dorian Gray AU) okay anyone who has ever seen my blog knows how much I love lynx's writing, which is why I am also obsessed with this fic, even though it's a genre I'm usually not that familiar with. It's a Dorian Gray AU, it's gothic horror but especially the first few chapters are also giving victorian romcom with murder sideplot vibes (and I mean this as the biggest compliment), this fic will make you laugh and cry and want to murder some of these characters yourself maybe.

Only Fools Are Satisfied by grumposaur (@pancakehouse) (38.353 words, modern AU, tennis AU). I really love the exploration of Sirius's family dynamics in the context of him being a professional athlete in this fic, and Remus with his tanlines and freckles is everything!!

Neon Moon by @krethes (47.698 words, modern AU, cowboy stripper Remus AU, Las Vegas) I didn't know how much I needed Remus to be a stripper and a cowboy before I read this fic, but now I do and I love him!! The whole premise of them meeting at a strip club while Sirius is out on James's bachelor party is so iconic, and the vibes of the fic are just overall excellent, highly recommend checking it out!

on another ocean by @colgatebluemintygel (118.148 words, modern AU, backpacking/interrail, friends with benefits) Where do I even start? This is an incredible fic, one of my all time faves, I've reread some of the chapters several times now and am so obsessed with this fic's Remus in his socks and sandals, driving Sirius crazy with lust. Also I will not spoil it for anyone who hasn't read it, but the scene in the budapest chapter in the club bathroom features one of my favorite Sirius moments of all time, across all universes haha.

marginalia by @spindrifters (266.547 words, magical AU, canon divergent AU - Grindelwald won, slavery AU) I'm having a hard time trying to put my love for this fic into words in just a short paragraph. This fic is so unique in its setting, and it's so beautifully written and asks & answers the question "what if Grindelwald had won?" in such an incredible, highly political and also very immersive way, if you haven't read it already I really recommend checking it out (as well as the already complete Tedromeda spinoff set in the same world, history books!!!).

Staying Strangers by 3amAndCounting (319,368 words, modern AU, texting fic, university AU). This is one of my comfort fics, I love a good texting AU, this is quite a popular fic anyways but if you haven't read it and like modern AUs & texting fics (though it isn't all just texting) go check it out!

#hprecfest2023 #wolfstar wip #wolfstar #fic rec #wolfstar fic #wip #rec list #wip rec list #also i put these in order of their lenght because whenever i do a rec list that's not just chronological from doing daily fic recs #i have a small crisis over in which order i want to put them #also i just KNOW as soon as i post this i will remember another wip i've forgotten to mention so PLEASE feel free to reblog this and add #more current wolfstar wips (either ur own or someone elses!) if you want to!!! <3

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albaskies · 19 days

Text

And if I didn't know better

Or: One evening, Ginny reflects on her choice to step up for Teddy, while trying to navigate her grief for the loss of those who never could. Read here or on AO3:

She isn’t quite so sure what made her decide to step up for a child when she was hardly an adult herself. Not that she’d done much at first - she’d barely ever been there during the first year of his life, and she’d only gathered the courage to rock him to sleep a few months after she’d moved back home. It was more of a feeling, as if she’d accepted the responsibility deep in her heart before she could even trust her own limbs to hold him properly.

It feels like a lifetime away, now, as his little body is curled up against hers and his turquoise hair shines in the dim candlelight. They lay on several cushions and blankets scattered on the floor; an old white sheet stuck on four chairs hanging on top of their heads, covering the ceiling. They’ve built a fort, you know. Right after playing dragons and running around on invisible broomsticks (‘Feet on the ground, Teddy, please’). All in their living room, all after having dinner.

Harry’s sent word that he’ll be home late - problems at the office. He sounded very disappointed to miss out on having Teddy over for the night, one of his favourite weekly activities. He usually sleeps over on Fridays, but they might have to switch it to Saturdays if Harry keeps on getting held back at work.

Ginny is seriously doubting that her strategy to try and wear Teddy out before bedtime has been effective, as Teddy’s eyes are still wide open and shimmering with energy. The cup of warm milk she’s offered him hasn’t quite done the trick, now left unfinished and forgotten on the floor right next to him. But then again, Teddy’s undergoing that toddler phase where nothing in the world can get him to wind down unless he decides to, thank you very much. How did Hermione call him? A threenager? Where did she even hear such a ridiculous thing?

She looks down at him again, as he has started to move his tiny hands and notice the corresponding shadow movements reflected on the sheet. His expression is full of wonder, not a care in the world, and she’s so grateful for the look in his eyes (and, yes, for the rare moment of quiet as well) that she feels her heart could explode.

‘Look, Teddy,’ she says, joining her thumbs and wiggling the rest of her fingers. ‘Isn’t that an eagle? Oh my, how did it get here?’.

Teddy squeals with laughter, unable to contain his excitement - the sweetest sound in the world.

‘Again, Ginny, again!’.

She regrets it, to have hesitated back then. It’s not that she didn’t care for him when he was a baby - quite the contrary, actually. She’d known she loved him so much since before he was even born; that one Christmas morning when Tonks had grabbed her hand and had gently placed her on her pregnant tummy. But she was scared, terrified of messing it all up, of not being good enough. She still is sometimes - she’s just learned to cope with it better, or maybe to hide it better. She reckons that nobody really knows how to deal with a child from the beginning, especially when it’s not their own; and they are all a bit broken now anyway. But it doesn’t really matter, does it, as long as they’re there for each other, as long as Friday nights are still about dragons, invisible broomsticks and animal shadows on a fort sheet ceiling.

Harry had dived into the role with all his seriousness and solemnity because, well, what else do you expect. He’d tried so hard to get Teddy to like him from the start, as if there could ever be the risk that he wouldn’t. He’d show up to Andromeda’s house bearing so many gifts that she’d had to beg him to stop once and for all, for the love of Merlin.

‘I just want to do something nice for him, you know,’ he’d told Ginny later, his brows furrowed and his glare focused on his tea mug.

‘But you already do,’ she’d said, her hand gently squeezing his thigh. ‘You’re there for him. That’s as nice as it gets.’

She could tell she hadn’t fully convinced him, just as she knew that he hadn’t been exactly truthful either. He wanted to do something nice for Teddy, sure, stepping in those daunting godfather shoes as smoothly as possible. But he wanted to do something nice for himself too, for his much younger self, trying to give away all the love and attention he’d been missing all his life. And she couldn’t really blame him for that, now, could she.

‘Gin,’ he’d murmured, his whisper almost pleading. ‘I don’t think I know what I’m doing.’

She’d moved her hand from his leg to his jaw, resisting the urge to cut him off with sarcasm, ‘Have you ever, though.’

‘Nobody asks that of you right now, Harry. You’ll figure it out.’

He looks at her, still unconvinced. ‘But Tonks and Lupin -’

‘No,’ she’d shushed him, gently pressing a finger on his lips. ‘Not even them.’

That’s the thing - nobody had asked her to, either. And it’s not that she’d felt compelled to act as an unofficial godmother only because of her relationship with Harry. He’d certainly never expected that of her.

She’d felt hurt when her mum had implied that once. As if that ring that Harry had placed on her finger dictated all of her choices, as if she had to have a reason to desire to care for Teddy. As if she hadn’t known Tonks and Lupin, too.

No, Teddy's become part of her life because of a very careful and important choice she’s made. It has been so incredibly natural, and it has required quite some effort, both at the same time. But it’s always been there, no matter what.

There hasn’t been a single Quidditch match she’s played without looking for him and Harry in the stands; there hasn’t been a single house she and Harry have looked at without thinking about what room could become his for when he stays over. There hasn’t been a single time she hasn’t thought of him when looking at the clear blue sky.

‘And what about this?’, she asks him, still twisting her hands to give life to dark shapes on the sheet.

Teddy lets out a sweet chuckle. ‘A rabbit!’.

‘Good job, Teddy!’’

He claps his hands in excitement and his hair seems to have become an even brighter shade of blue.

‘More, more!’

‘Let’s see. What about…’ Ginny says, continuing to move her fingers. ‘This?’

He seems to think about it for a second, squeezing his eyes, wrinkling his nose. Then he beams.

‘A wolf!’

A beat.

‘Er - no, it’s a dog -’

‘No, it’s a wolf!’

‘Teddy -’

And before she knows it, he starts howling.

‘Wolves aren’t scary, Ginny! You shouldn’t be scared!’

She looks at him in horror. Total panic. Her mind blacked out. That’s the one thing she hasn’t brought herself to do with Teddy yet - talking about his parents. Or even mentioning them, to be frank. She’s quite selfishly left that to Harry, because what does she know about this stuff, he’s a child, she doesn’t want to mess it up for him. She’s quite sure that she would, if she tried. She can’t even think straight after he’s seen the shadow of a wolf rather than a dog, after all. What a stupid way to react to a child acting his age, playing and having fun. Stop this. Don’t be a git, please stop this.

It’s almost as if Lupin and Tonks never enter the bubble that she creates when she’s with Teddy - which is absurd, nonsensical, completely idiotic. But, well - her insides knotting in guilt at the mere thought - it’s easier this way. She feels ashamed of herself, absolutely fucking revolted. Now that he’s inadvertently brought it up though, a three-year-old braver than she’ll ever be, and he’s opened Pandora’s box (some famous Greek witch, she reckons), she's at a loss for words. It’s so subtle that she should just let it slide - she must, actually. He hasn’t even asked her anything, he hasn’t even made the connection. He doesn’t even know.

Her mind is racing out of control and he hasn’t even done it on purpose. She’s the one who’s acting like a lunatic. She doesn’t know why she feels like she should say something, doesn’t even know what, because it would all sound wrong anyway.

You know, Teddy, she almost hears herself saying, but you know, Teddy, what exactly? Why can’t she get this thought out of her head? He’s blissfully unaware, and he’s just a child that is playfully pretending to be a wolf, what the hell wrong with you, Ginny, pull yourself together.

She continues spiralling as she notices that he’s stopped howling, and is now observing her with curiosity.

Fuck, you’re going to traumatise him, aren’t you.

As she looks at him more closely, she notices that his eyes, that have been blue like his hair for months now, have now turned darker - a warm, chocolaty brown. And instead of feeling even more horrified, she simply calms down, her panic gone.

Funny how Lupin can offer her comfort even in death.

She is staring at the empty desk in front of her. The bell has rung and all her classmates have left already, but somehow she can’t bring herself to get out of the classroom and head to lunch. Not yet, because she is staring at the empty desk in front of her so intensely, almost as if she could get it to talk to her. She remembers sitting there, less than a year ago, just before her memory had gone blank into one of her many blackouts. She remembers opening her diary on her lap, bored to death at the sound of Professor Lockhart’s pompous voice, she remembers jotting down a few thoughts pretending to be taking notes. Then she remembers a voice, his voice, and nothing more. Maybe if she stares at the desks hard enough, it will come back to her, maybe she will remember how she got from the classroom to Hagrid’s shed and then back to the castle again…

‘What are you still doing here, Ginny?’.

She blinks once, and then once again, trying to bring Professor Lupin’s greyish frame into focus. She isn’t sure since when he’s been sitting on the chair in front of her.

‘Are you looking for something?’, he asks, watching her carefully. She must look rather lost, because he quickly adds: ‘You did well in class, today.’

‘I - er, no - I mean, thanks,’ she blurts out. His dark brown eyes are still focused on her, studying her in detail.

She clears her throat, as if to gather her courage. There is something she’s been wanting to ask him, actually, but she isn’t even sure that she should bring it up. Percy has made it clear that she shouldn’t talk about it with anybody, but Percy doesn’t really understand what it feels like, doesn’t it? To lose control, to not know.

‘I suppose you were wondering what happened on the train a few days ago?’, says Professor Lupin bluntly, as if it’s the most obvious thing on the planet.

‘How do you -?’

‘You wouldn’t be the first to ask.’

As she observes him a little more closely than ever before, she realises he must be much younger than he looks. He has a few grey locks of hair here and there, his face is tired and emaciated, but he doesn’t have wrinkles around his eyes and mouth like her dad.

He smiles, encouragingly. She clears her throat again.

‘My brother Percy’s told me about the Dementors,’ she mutters, her glare back on the desk. ‘I know they make people feel bad. It’s just -’.

She suddenly hears it again, that low, yet so familiar voice, telling her she should not be frightened. Then flashes of light, blood, screams, and her clothes are unexplainably damp.

She shivers, subtly patting her robes. She’s fine. She’s fine.

‘I did some things last year,’ she hears herself say. She doesn’t even know how she’s managed to gather enough strength to.

‘I just fear - well, I guess I worry that the Dementors will make me do them again.’

Professor Lupin falls silent for a few seconds. He continues to watch her, but has now stopped smiling.

‘From what I’ve heard, you haven’t chosen to do any of those things.’

He’s heard, then. She doesn’t wonder why - she reckons stories must travel fast among Hogwarts staff, too.

She would normally be ashamed, but now she can’t help but feel a hint of relief, stemming from Merlin knows where. After all, yes, he’s heard, but he’s still talking to her like she isn’t any different; he’s heard, and he’s still offered her chocolate.

‘Don’t worry, Ginny, Dementors can’t make you reenact your bad memories. They surely make you relive them, though,’ he furrows his brows, as if an unexpected thought has suddenly crossed his mind. ‘Do you - er - have enough support here?’

She’s taken aback by this question, shame creeping on her cheeks. ‘I’ve got four brothers here,’ she quickly responds, but she knows that this isn’t what he means. She sighs. He seems to understand.

‘I’m working on it,’ she sputters, defensively. ‘It’s not exactly easy to make friends when all the girls in your dormitory think you’re a freak.’

It comes out spontaneously, but she immediately regrets using that tone with a professor. However, to her great surprise, he bursts into laughter.

‘I guess you’re right,’ he says, throwing her an enigmatic look. ‘But believe me when I say that friends are the most precious gift that Hogwarts can give you. Real friends will help you overcome all the hard times; and if they think you’re a freak, well, they’ll choose to be freaky with you.’

He stops smiling, suddenly looking rather thoughtful, but then quickly shakes his head. Somehow, she ends up with the strange feeling that he’s no longer having this conversation only with her.

‘Might I suggest,’ he adds, now back to his reassuring tone. ‘That you perhaps try to talk to other students that might have had - how to put this - a similar experience to yours? Harry’s a good friend of your brother’s, isn’t he?’

She feels it coming - the blush. One of the big ones. One of the bad ones.

‘No! I don’t think -’, she hisses, suddenly horrified, redder than she’s ever been in her life. ‘I don’t think that would work.’

He raises his eyebrows, the corners of his mouth slightly twitching.

‘Well, you never know,’ he states matter-of-factly. He then stands up, patting his hands on his legs. ‘But now I must really let you go. I wouldn’t want you to feel unwell during your next class because you haven’t had any lunch.’

She nods, grabs her things, mutters an awkward ‘Thanks’. Just when she’s about to leave, she hears him speak again.

‘It may be hard to understand now, but what happened to you doesn’t define you. Please, don’t ever forget that.’

It’s true, she doesn’t understand that quite just yet, but she will remember those words for the rest of her life.

For now, she’s busy spending the next few days ridiculously terrified by the thought of Professor Lupin telling Harry about their conversation. She imagines Harry looking at her with pity, disgust even, as a stupid little girl who can’t bring herself to make some friends. But this doesn’t happen - Harry barely ever looks at her, and when he does he seems, well, normal. She’s quite glad of that, for one. She’s also so incredibly glad that Professor Lupin respected her enough to keep her secret, that he could be trusted.

Years later, she’ll regret never having told him that she and Harry had fallen in love. She’ll reckon he would’ve liked to know that, he might have even been delighted. She’ll figure, as a punch in her stomach, that she’d assumed they’d have more time.

‘You know what, Teddy, you’re right,’ she finally says, gently stroking his hair. ‘Wolves aren’t scary.’

He beams, looking rather satisfied with her answer, and pulls up his back to sit against a big pillow.

‘Let’s play another game!’

Ginny sighs at his never ending source of energy; her hopes that relaxing under the fort would somehow make him drowsy are completely shattered. She quickly glances at the clock on the wall - if Andromeda finds out that Teddy's been up so late, she’ll never hear the end of it.

‘Time out, Teddy,’ she says, faking a yawn. ‘We should really go to bed now.’

Teddy frowns, pouting his lips and wrinkling his little nose.

‘What if we read the story of Babbity Rabbity?’, she then intervenes tentatively, hoping to jump in just in time to prevent a tantrum. ‘Come on, you love Babbity Rabbity…’

But Teddy isn’t having it. He shakes his head fervently, now crossing his arms.

Ginny wonders if this is the time to be a bit more assertive with him, if she could dare, even. Sometimes she feels like she’s still tiptoeing around him - she’s the one giving him all the fun and games, but when it comes to discipline, she finds that she’s quite rattled. He’s not her child, after all; she fears it’s not her place. Most of the time, she finds herself wondering how Lupin would deal with his son’s tantrums; she would love to see what Tonks would do. She reckons she would do anything to learn a bit more about parenthood from them both, even though (and to only remotely fathom this, her heart sinks) they haven’t had the chance to be parents for long. They would’ve been brilliant at it, though - this is merely her fantasy, sure, as she actually doesn’t know. Tonks and Lupin will remain fundamentally pure in her memory, because she doesn’t like to remember their flaws, especially not in relation to Teddy, and it won’t do any good to anyone, anyway.

‘Why don’t finish up your milk first?’, she tries again, pointing at the abandoned mug on the floor. With a flick of her wand, she mildly warms it up again.

He nods enthusiastically, but something goes wrong when he grabs the mug and he spills all the remaining milk all over himself and the blanket. He immediately looks up at her, his eyes filled with remorse and anticipation, almost as if he’s realised he’s gone a step too far. Ginny is aware that Teddy’s clumsy to the point of exasperating his grandmother, and that he might even expect a scolding for his little distraction, but she feels a sudden rush of affection towards him instead.

‘All right,’ she says, standing up and taking him in her arms. ‘Time for another bath.’

She could easily scurgify and dry up his pyjamas, but she remembers how good it would feel when her mum would bathe her and then wrap her in a warm towel, always offering her snuggles and kisses along the process. She repeats the same ritual with Teddy, even playing with some dragon and quaffle toys in the water with him, just as her mum used to - only that the toys, at the time, were old and faded, sometimes missing a paw or an eye.

She wraps him in the softest towel she can find, swings him in her arms while dancing across the hallway to reach her bedroom, and pretends to drop him on her bed. He laughs so hysterically and uncontrollably that his hair becomes curly. Her heart couldn’t be any more full.

She retrieves his pyjamas bottoms with a quick ‘Accio’ and helps him wear them, but decides to leave his milk-stained t-shirt on the bathroom floor. She ransacks first Harry’s, and then her own clothes drawer in search of something clean for Teddy to wear that isn’t the top of Harry’s Auror uniform, a pair of mismatched socks, a bra or some old Christmas jumpers.

That’s when she sees it, stuck in the back of the drawer - a hint of green. She touches the cotton fabric and seizes it. It still feels soft, despite having been left unworn and forgotten in a drawer for years.

She realises her hands are shaking. She’d never thought she could’ve forgotten.

Ginny had never assumed she could smell dust before, but now she’s quite positive she’s been in the wrong all her life. As she sits in the dining room of 12 Grimmauld Place, taking a break from the massive amount of cleaning her mother has decided to subject her to since they’ve moved here (no exceptions, not even today), she feels like every inch of her body is covered with dust. Her hair, her fingers, her nose - to the extent that she thinks she can actually smell it. And it’s not great, considering that the more extensive the efforts they make to clean up the house, the more the house seems to turn out filthier than before.

Today it’s only her and her mother on cleaning duty, though. Everyone else is too preoccupied with what’s going to happen tomorrow - the tense whispering and nervous pacing are becoming almost unbearable. Her mum is worried too, of course, but she reckons that trying to tidy up this wreck of a place is the only way she knows to distract herself at the moment. Ginny is, for one, happy to oblige. She’d never thought she’d say this, but she’d rather dust every single one of those house-elf heads hanging on top of the stairs with a toothbrush rather than giving in to everyone’s anxiety.

Amused by the thought, she gets up to go and do just that, but someone barges loudly in the room from the door behind her back.

‘Wotcher, Ginny,’ says a ringing voice. ‘So, where's the party?’

Ginny smiles at Tonks, who has styled her hair in a bright purple ponytail today. Before she can say anything, Tonks hands her a little parcel, wrapped in crumpled paper that must have once belonged to an issue of the Daily Prophet. She recognises some of the scattered, black-inked words - ‘The Boy Who Lies?’, or: ‘Let’s hope he hasn’t got a scar on his forehead or we’ll be asked to worship him next’, and: ‘Delusional teenager’, ‘Better skilled at seeking attention than golden snitches’, ‘Expert Circe Bryce confirms that orphaned children often employ cunning strategies to cope with their abandonment complex (more on page 8).’

‘Sorry,’ utters Tonks with an apologetic half-smile. ‘That’s all I could find.’

Ginny shrugs and lets out an unlikely high-pitched cackle. Laughs at the irony of it all. Everything seems to be overflowing with Harry these days, even her birthday presents.

She rips out the paper, unsure whether she’s more eager to see what’s inside or to get those stupid printed words out of her sight. The first thing that she finds is soft and bright green, an unmistakable green, and she already knows what it is.

‘You didn’t!’, she cries out in complete disbelief. ‘No way!’

‘Heard you’re a big fan.’

Ginny wields a Holyhead Harpies t-shirt in her hands as if it’s a trophy, her most prized possession, and her eyes are sparkling.

‘The design is from 1981, the year you were born, I s’pose,’ continues Tonks with a satisfied look on her face, pointing at the golden print on the front of the t-shirt. It reads Holyhead Harpies in a curly font, never seen before. ‘I thrifted it from a small shop in Diagon Alley. I should take you there some time.’

Ginny nods with excitement, although she’s only listened to half of what Tonks’s said, too busy marvelling at her new t-shirt.

‘Come on now,’ adds Tonks, sounding very amused, pointing at the half-opened parcel. ‘There’s something else in there.’

Ginny opens her eyes wide and immediately dives her hands into the wrapping paper. She finds something thin and folded - when she opens it, it reveals a moving picture of Gwenog Jones darting through the air on her broomstick.

‘She’s a badass, isn’t she,’ comments Tonks. Ginny doesn’t respond right away, too busy mentally scanning the walls of her bedroom back at the Burrow to decide where to hang the picture.

‘Blimey, you’re spoiling me, Tonks,’ she manages to let out after a bit, still holding the t-shirt with one hand and her new poster with the other. She then throws her arms around Tonks’s neck, squeezing her tight. ‘Thank you, so much.’

She doesn’t quite know what she’s done to deserve Tonks’s affection after knowing her for barely over a month. It’s true, they spend most of their days together under the same roof, but they seem to have just instantly connected regardless. Tonks embodies everything that she aspires to be one day, plus she’s bold, unbelievably funny, and doesn’t coddle her. It feels good to be surrounded by women that aren’t her mother for a change - soothing, even. For what may be the first time in her life, this summer she’s truly felt the urge and longing for female companionship - maybe because she’s finally started getting used to it, back at school and here at Grimmauld Place. And now that Hermione’s back to fussing over Harry with her brother, and her mother is too busy running around yelling at people, she’s really only got Tonks to rely on. What amazes her is that Tonks doesn’t seem to mind - on the contrary, she appears to be rather thrilled to spend time with her when she can, unbothered by their age gap, almost taking her under her wing. In a time of her life in which she feels left out, a spare, Tonks has chosen to give her some purpose, to make her feel necessary. She doesn’t know why she does it, only that she’ll be eternally grateful for it.

‘Ah, it’s nothing,’ smiles Tonks, gently pulling away from her to give her a pointed look. ‘I’m sorry that we didn’t celebrate you more, though.’

She doesn’t need to add more about lingering wars, resistance movements and impending Ministry hearings.

‘What are you talking about,’ says Ginny, brushing those thoughts off quickly. ‘This birthday’s been dashing. Even your cousin’s made me a card.’

That’s quite true, actually. Her mum's baked a cake and everybody (well, except some angsty black-haired teenager, know anyone?) gathered around the table to sing her ‘Happy birthday’ first thing in the morning. Then she's opened her gifts - a jumper from her parents, quite a few boxes of Honeydukes from all her brothers, and the unexpected birthday card from Sirius, with the handmade drawing of a flying hippogriff that waves hello and smirks at her. Hermione's got her a book, unsurprisingly - but that’s frustrated her a little, because she knows she won’t be able to reciprocate on her own birthday, except with a stupid singing card and (if she’s lucky) with a box of chocolates stolen from one of her brothers.

Tonks chuckles lightly. ‘Has that special boy wished you a happy birthday?’

Ginny shrugs, and just as she’s about to mutter a resentful ‘Barely’, she realises with a pinch of guilt that Tonks is talking about - well, another boy.

‘Michael’s sent me an owl,’ she says, blushing softly. ‘Said he misses me.’

‘Bet he does,’ remarks Tonks, observing her very carefully all of a sudden, as if she wants to read her mind. She waits a few seconds and then, rather out of the blue, she simply adds: ‘Don’t ever settle, all right?’

Ginny frowns, puzzled. ‘What’s that supposed to mean?’

Tonks doesn’t answer, but winks at her, laughing. ‘You’ll understand with time, you’ll see.’

And indeed, she will.

Ginny wonders if the small shop in Diagon Alley is still there after the war. She’d like to find it now, pay it a visit, maybe purchase something in Tonks’s honour. They’d never managed to go together, in the end.

She exhales heavily and taps the vintage Holyhead Harpies t-shirt with her wand, shrinking it just enough to fit Teddy perfectly. She reckons he should keep it; she doesn’t seem to have it in her to wear it, anyway.

Teddy falls asleep peacefully wearing that t-shirt and maybe it’s pathetic, maybe it’s irrational, but she can’t help hoping that his mother’s touch will comfort him in his dreams tonight.

She’s so deep in her thoughts that she doesn’t notice that Harry’s arrived home until he plants a gentle kiss on the back of her head.

‘Tough evening?’, he asks softly, gesturing towards Teddy.

Ginny sighs, leaning her head on his chest. ‘It was fine.’

He seems to understand, though, and decides not to push further. They hold each other in silence for a while, their eyes captured by the little boy snuggled under the blanket and asleep in their bed. Staring at the past and the future, all at once.

#ginny weasley #teddy lupin #remus lupin #nymphadora tonks #hinny #Harry x Ginny #flashbacks #no plot just feels

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if-found-return-to-sender · 6 months

Text

What a Suprise~ Bill Weasley

Waddling was all I could call the way I was walking.

But I couldn’t see my life being any other way.

An amazing man that loves me just the way I am.

An adopted son.

A loving family that’s there for me no matter what.

And a baby on the way.

But waddling was the least of my worries

There were worse symptoms of being almost nine months pregnant. Like constantly having to pee, having swollen ankles, barely getting any sleep at night, my mood changing at any and all moments, only eating things I crave, and my least favorite becoming nauseous at anything my nose deems disgusting.

But I had to remind myself that it would all be worth it.

To have that little bundle of joy in my arms will make it all worth it.

I had to make the days shorter by keeping me busy to make the final weeks of this pregnancy fly by. And that starts with me getting out of bed.

That was no easy task.

The amount of rolling around and grunting got the man lying next to me to stir awake. “Good morning love. Do you need any help?” Bill asked me.

I grumbled as I asked,” What does it look like hun?”

“It looks like my beautiful wife is trying to get out of bed when we both know your abs are no longer in working order,” he chuckles at me.

“Yeah yeah just help me get up so I can get ready before Teddy wakes up,” I grumble to him.

(Teddy a.k.a Edward Remus Lupin, the son of my late sister Tonks. He was put into my care after the second wizarding war when it was found that Nymph and Remus were gone. I’ve taken care of him ever since then. It's been three years.)

“Okay okay I’m coming,” he said back to me.

Bill pulls me out of our cozy bed and my feet hit the cold floor making me shiver. I stand in front of my husband giving him a kiss before I begin to walk towards the bathroom. I’m stopped before I take my second step by Bill’s hand gently holding my arm.

He carefully spins me around so as not to make me dizzy.

He then gets on his knees so he is level with your sizable bump. He then starts to talk to your bump,” Good morning little one. I just have a few rules for the day for you. One, don’t kick your mother in the ribs, Two, don’t come out early, and last but not least I love you so much, and can’t wait to see you any day now.” He ends the chat with a couple of kisses to my stomach tickling me in the process causing me to laugh. Which in return causes our baby to kick where the kisses were settled.

“Well if your done sweet talking the babe I am going to go and take a shower,” I say as I’m looking down at him.

All he does is look up at me with adoration something I’ve seen from him quite a lot these past weeks.

“What are you staring at?” I ask him.

“I am looking at the most beautiful woman in the world. Just trying to understand how I got so lucky to have someone like you,” he says in amazement.

“I’m still trying to understand what in Merlin’s name I had to do in order to have the most handsome, most loving, and definitely most daring husband to ever step foot on the world,” I respond with the same love and adoration.

He stands up again with a wide smile spread across his face.

He pulls me into a kiss.

He had to lean in order to reach my lips as there was an obstacle in his way.

“Now I’m going to shower,” I say back to him as I walk away.

“I will most likely be downstairs making breakfast when you are done,” he says back to me.

I walk into the bathroom turn on the shower and turn to look in the mirror just looking at myself hoping one day to see some of the same features in my little girl.

Yes, girl.

Bill hasn’t wanted to know so I haven’t told him, but I found out a long time ago.

Keeping the news a secret all to myself.

I walk into the shower as the hot water runs down my body washing away yesterday. I run my hands over my stomach to make sure I don’t miss a single inch of my body.

I go through my routine but still don’t want to get out of the hot water as it has raised my body temperature significantly since I’ve gotten in. The chill of the morning trying to sneak into the hot shower. Only getting out when the tips of my fingers start to wrinkle.

I dry off and put on the plush robe waiting on the back of the bathroom door. Hoping to keep the cool air at bay. Continuing to dry my hair as I wipe the condensation off the mirror in front of me.

While looking at myself I take a moment to take it all in before the day finally begins.

I brush out my hair and move to the closet to get dressed. Picking one of Bill’s sweaters and my trusted leggings. The only thing that still fits.

Just as I finished the exercise of putting my socks on I heard the little groans coming from the room down the hall.

I smile to myself as I make my way to the babbling toddler.

“Good morning Mr. Teddy,” I say to him. I’m only greeted with a barely toothy grin.

The boy in front of me has the face of his father but the eyes and hair of his mother. Finding out that he is a metamorphmagus like his mother was a shock and a relief. I was washing dishes when I heard Teddy sneeze and then heard continuous quacking. I walked into the living room to see him with a duck beak on the front of his face. Quickly calling my mother was the only thing I thought to do. She was over in a heartbeat to teach me how to change him back to his perfect self.

I chuckle at the memory as I make my way over to the blue-haired boy. He smiles at me jumping with excitement at seeing me coming to get him.

“Do you want to get dressed or have breakfast?” I ask picking him up.

He points to the small closet behind us as his answer.

“Alright let’s get you dressed,” I say.

Changing him has always been an easy task for me.

As long as he’s holding my wand. It hasn’t caused any accidents yet, but I know one day it probably will.

I put him down on the floor and told him to get breakfast. He then takes off down the hall the sound of his little feet hitting the floor echoes through the quiet house.

I smile as I follow him down the hall.

When he gets to the stairs he waits for me to catch up with him.

I tell him,” It’s okay you know how to do it.”

He then turns around and begins to slowly descend the stairs. He looks up at me every so often to make sure I’m still following. When he makes it to the bottom of the stairs he slowly stands and turns around taking off toward the kitchen. The smell of breakfast floats to my nose.

I waddle my way to the kitchen doorway in time to hear their conversation.

“Good morning my son. How did you sleep my little tyke?” he says to him.

Teddy babbles for a bit before he says,” Good dada.”

Hearing Teddy say that to him feels wrong but earned. We will tell him of his parents and just how heroic they were. When he can understand why we kept it a secret, but for now we will play the part.

“Oh really and you look so handsome and cozy in your sweater. Did you pick it out or did Mommy?” he says to the boy.

“Me,” he says proudly.

Which is true although I picked out two for him to choose from.

“Well, you definitely made a good choice. Nana Weasley will be overjoyed when she learns you’ve taken a liking to her sweaters,” Will says to Teddy as he tickles his little stomach making Teddy let out a loud giggle.

“See Nana,” Teddy says excitedly.

“We’ll see Nana next weekend okay,” Bill responds.

“Okay,” Teddy says back with a smile on his little face.

I stand in the doorway to the kitchen watching the scene playing out in front of me.

Bill is trying to make pancakes while still holding Teddy in his arms. I take this as my cue to step in and help him with making breakfast. I pour myself a cup of coffee to make my presence known to the man on the other side of the kitchen. I hear music begin to play throughout the cozy room. I turn to see the two of them begin to dance to the music around them.

I giggle at the two of them and move to take over making breakfast for my husband.

I finished making everything and brought it to the little table perfect for my little family. As I finish bringing the last of the food to the table Bill and Teddy dance their way over to me squishing me in between the two of them in slobbery kisses on each cheek.

“Oh thank you my loves,” I laugh to them as they sit down.

Teddy gets out,“ Welcome mama.” I start to put food onto a plate for Teddy so I can cut it up for him. The music still softly going in the background of our meal.

The rest of breakfast is spent talking to Bill about the current case he’s working on, and Teddy occasionally chiming in to tell us his opinions.

After breakfast, I’m at the sink washing the dishes from the morning while humming to the music in the house. Teddy is in the living room playing with his toys. And as I’m cleaning one of the last dishes I feel two arms snake around my waist or what was left of it from behind.

“You look so beautiful today,” he whispers in my ear swaying us slowly.

“Well, you take some of the credit. This is your sweater after all,” I say back to him as I sway with him.

“I can’t take any credit you’re beautiful wearing anything. Especially when wearing nothing,” he responds while biting my ear lobe ever so lightly.

“Thank you my love, but not gonna happen,” I sass at him.

“Okay if not that then could I have this dance with you, my lady?” he asks holding out his hand to me.

I nod my head yes, and take his hand. He pulls me in close to him and we begin to dance. I listen closely and begin to hear the song that’s playing. Our song. As I begin listening the song gets louder as we begin dancing our way through the main level of our home. It makes me remember our wedding. The songs, the dancing, the food, and him, my husband. One of the best days of my life as I’m sure there are more to come especially with our little one on the way.

We finally make it to the living room where Teddy begins to stand to his feet holding his arms out and asking to be held.

I instantly pick him up and we squish him in between us as we continue our dance around the toys in the living room. We begin to sing to the little boy in our arms. Causing him to giggle as he listens to us sing funnily at him.

The song begins to wind down and Bill spins and dips me one last time as the last note holds.

When I come back up I feel it.

The rush of water gushing down my leg.

I look up at Bill with shock all over my face. He’s still laughing with Teddy until he looks at me. His smile was replaced with worry as he instantly started to look me over. His eyes finally looked to the ground to see the puddle around us.

I can see the shock finally register on his face.

All I can do is smile with excitement. We knew it could happen any day and apparently, today was the day.

I took Teddy from Bill’s arms as he raced up the stairs to get our hospital bags.

I looked at Teddy with a smile on my face trying not to worry or freak out the young boy. Bill appears a couple of seconds later with two trunks in his arms.

It’s my turn to look at my husband with love and admiration. My smile is reciprocated by the ginger in front of me. I don’t know what the rest of the day has in store but I’m ready to do it with this man at my side.

I waddle over to Bill and he meets me halfway linking my arm with his we aparate to the burrow to drop off Teddy with Molly and Arthur.

When Molly sees us on the front steps she instantly knows why we're here. She’s already fussing over me before she opens the door.

She takes the excited toddler from my arms and tells us to go the instant Teddy is resting on her hip. As we turn to walk away to aparate to St.Mungos Molly grabs my arm and whispers,” Oh, and good luck my dear. Bring home my second grandbaby.”

I give her a nervous smile as I walk to Bill and we are off.

We arrive at the hospital and my first contraction hits my body.

The second one is not far behind it.

I am put in a wheelchair and bring me to a private room.

I look around at the room and take in the fact that this is where my little girl is going to be brought into the world. A day that feels weird now that it is here.

I'm put in bed and nurses start to fuss over me and my baby making sure that everything is going smoothly. As one of the nurses goes to check me a surge of pain goes through my body as another contraction hits me.

The nurse apologies as she’s done checking me telling me that I’m progressing fast and that I’m at 5 centimeters already.

5 more to go I tell myself.

5 more and I get to see my beautiful girl.

Time passed and it felt like an eternity.

But finally, I was ready to push.

I pushed for three hours.

I was exhausted, sad, happy, a whole bunch of emotions. I was about to give up when I heard it. Her cry.

A cry I’ve waited eight and a half months for.

I look over at my husband who’s been letting me squeeze his hand for the last three hours. I see him looking at the baby that is being laid on my chest with that same love and admiration he shows me every day.

She’s already stolen his heart and she’s barely a minute old.

“It’s a girl, my love,” I whisper to him as he puts his face next to mine to get a closer look at the babe.

“A great surprise indeed,” he says with tears all over his face.

After she was cleaned and bundled up snugly she was placed into my arms by the nurse who said,” I’ll give you guys some time to yourself.”

“Thank you,” I smiled towards the nurse.

Now we were alone with our baby.

Our second baby.

“You are the most beautiful girl in the world,” Bill says.

“Are you talking to me or her?” I quip.

“I’m talking to both of you. She looks so much like you already,” he ogles.

“Except for the full head of red hair and that nose. She definitely got those from you. We will have to wait and see what her eye color is, but my money is on blue,” I say to him.

“What are we going to name her my love?” He asks me.

“I think we’ll name her Agnes Nymphdora Weasley. What do you think about that little one?” I ask her.

All I get in return is a smile. Her first smile.

“You, Agnes, will do great and wonderful things and I know that because you will have me and your dad, and your brother at your side at all times. And you don’t even know it yet but you have six uncles and four aunts who love you. And your Nana and Papa Weasley, and your Granny Tonks. And so many more, and guess what they all love you so much. But I will say that your Dad definitely loves you the most I can see it in his eyes. You already have him wrapped around your tiny finger,” she smiles as I say that,” And of course, you know it too you little cheeky thing. You get that from your uncles Fred and George,” I continue to go on and on about your beautifully broken family until I’m fast asleep.

I woke up the next morning to hear Bill talking to someone.

I open my eyes and see Molly and Arthur.

“Where are the kids?” my groggy voice mixed with sleep and worry asks.

“We were waiting until you woke up for them to meet,” Molly says to me,” don’t worry he’s at the house with the rest of the family who are excited and ready to congratulate you.”

“I think I’ll need a day or two before that happens,” I say with a sigh.

“That is just fine my dear. We will be celebrating at the burrow whenever you’re ready to come by,” she says as she kisses me on the cheek,” in the meantime, I’ll go get the little man of the hour.” She then walks out the door with Arthur following close behind.

I then realize that Bill is holding our baby wrapped in multiple blankets. No doubt the work of Molly while I was asleep. I smile as I see him rocking her back and forth while humming our song to her.

I could feel my heart beaming with pride.

Then there is a knock on the door.

“Just a minute,” I say.

Bill and I both know exactly who is behind that door.

He walks over to me and carefully hands me baby Agnes. I get her situated in my arms, and Bill caresses my face in admiration as I do so. He takes the chair he’s been using next to the bed.

“Come in,” I say to the door not too loudly in case I might wake the sleeping baby.

The door slowly opens to reveal Teddy in the arms of Molly as she walks into the room. Arthur follows slowly behind them with Teddy’s security blanket.

“Hi buddy,” I say to him in a soft but excited voice.

All he does is wave to me as he pushes against Molly to be let down. She lets him down so he can come over on his own terms. Before he walks towards us he reaches and grabs his blanket from Arthur.

He then begins to walk around the bed to stand next to the chair Bill is sitting in.

“You want to come up,” Bill says as he reaches out his arms to Teddy.

Teddy nods his little head.

Bill puts him in his lap.

“Hi baby,” I say to him.

“Hi, Mommy,” he says back to me.

“Do you know who this is?” Bill asks him.

“Mommy,” Teddy says.

“That’s right, but who is Mommy holding,” he asks again.

He looks at me taking in everything before him. The bed with the white sheets, me with my hospital gown on, and finally I see his little eyes land on the bundle of blankets in my arms. He then stands up in Bill’s lap trying to get a better look at her.

“Baby!” he says with a lot of excitement. The smile on his face is genuine and infectious.

I became so happy that I felt tears of happiness build behind my eyes.

“Yes that’s right, baby, this is your baby sister,” I say to him.

“Hold, please,” Teddy says to me as he begins to climb out of Bill’s lap and onto the hospital bed. I instantly began moving to make room in my lap for the boy by holding the baby in one arm while he slid his way into my lap.

“Okay, hunny curl your arm to support her head, and then wrap your arm around her… there you go buddy good job,” I instruct my son.

Agnes doesn’t stir one bit as Teddy holds her.

It’s like she knows who he is already.

“What do you think Teddy?” Bill asks.

“Pretty,” he says as he begins to slowly touch her head. I take off her hat so that he can see her full head of red hair, and he begins to stroke it back and forth.

“You’re doing such a good job baby. Being so gentle with her,” I say with a smile across my face.

I look up after hearing the silent sobbing from across the room.

Molly is in tears while Arthur tries to console her.

“Would you like to know what her name is?” I ask the grandparents in front of me.

Molly nods her head slowly while wiping her nose with a handkerchief. Arthur waiting to catch his wife if need be at what’s about to happen.

“Well, we decided to name her Agnes Nymphadora Weasley,” I say proudly to them.

I see the quiet sob leave Molly’s mouth at the name of our first baby girl.

Arthur says to us,” That’s a mighty fine name for your little girl. I’m so proud of both of you. More you than him Y/n.”

“Thank you Arthur that means the world,” I say in thanks.

~ The next day is spent relearning all the steps of having a newborn. The diapers. The feedings. The sleep cycle.

We leave for home after three days in the hospital.

We open our front door to see Molly busying herself with cleaning. While Arthur is in the living room reading out loud to Teddy.

“What’s all this?” I ask as I enter the house.

“Well, we’re here to help you of course,” Molly says matter of factly.

“Thank you,” I say to her.

As I continue to enter the house I begin to hear little feet padding towards us. I then see him come around the corner running straight towards us. I drop to my knees to greet him with the biggest hug possible.

“Hi, buddy. Did you have fun with Nana and Papa?” I ask him.

He nods his head as a response wanting to be held by me. So I picked him up.

“What do you… “ I don’t even get to finish my sentence as a big yawn comes from the small boy. “You wanna take a nap buddy,” I ask him.

“With you please,” he answers.

“Of course buddy. We’ll go upstairs and take a nap together you and me,” I respond.

“And Daddy, and baby,” he pleas.

“Okay, buddy we will go and take a family nap how about that,” I say to him.

He nods his head with sleepy excitement.

“Well, you heard the man. Up you get,” I say to my husband with a tired smile.

He begins to climb the stairs with the sleeping baby girl in his arms. I turn to look at Molly but she’s already shooing me up the stairs to follow my husband. “Okay, Okay I’m going,” I say to her,” thank you again Molly for all you’ve done.”

“No need to thank me, love. I had the help when I had mine thank Merlin. So I’m repaying the favor one grandbaby at a time,” she says back to me.

I smile one last time at her before I walk up the stairs to the bedroom I shared with my husband and for a while our baby Agnes.

I walk into the room to see that Bill is almost asleep, and Agnes is down for the count. I keep Teddy at my side as I slide into the plush bed. As I go to move him I see he’s fast asleep on my shoulder. I lean back onto the headboard and slide down onto my back with Teddy on top of me. I turn my head so I can cuddle into the side of my beautiful husband.

“Thank you,” he says to me out of nowhere.

“What are you thanking me for?” I ask with confusion.

“For giving me this. The life I’ve always wanted. My beautiful children taking a nap with me and my beautiful wife. All I can say to you is Thank you for bringing this life into the world,” he says while pointing at Agnes,” And for bringing him into my life,” he says while pointing at Teddy,” And thank you for choosing me to be the one you spend the rest of the life with,” he finishes with tears in his eyes.

I lean to him and give him the most deeply loving kiss I can.

“I will always choose you, William Weasley,” I say while looking into his eyes,” I will choose you in this life and every lifetime after that. I mean it.”

“And I will choose you in every lifetime as well my love,” he says back to me.

“Now I’m taking a nap and relishing in the quiet before the storm,” I say to him as I close my eyes.

He pecks my cheek and nose one last time before he pulls me into his side to hold me while we all sleep together in the true mark before the rest of our lives.

#harry potter imagine #bill weasley x reader #bill weasley #bill weasley imagine #molly weasley #weasley family #hp fandom #hp fanfcition #hogwarts #arthur weasley #the weasleys

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padfootswhiskers · 1 month

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With all respect, I think u guys give jkr's writing skill too much credit . Ik she said she planned everything abt hp books from the beginning( I don't believeit tbh), but she wrote some of the weirdest dumb stuff ever for the sake of the plot that don't make any sense ... Remus's life and even his name, for example.The fact that Remus hasn't visited Harry for almost 12yrs is ridiculous . "He thought Harry was safe - he felt worthless. He was a coward. " wtf?! No he didn't do it bc Harry shouldn't know abt his parents and wizarding world the End. srslyWheree were lily's friends? Oh they all passed away...Harry's grandparents THEY ALL PASSED AWAY ...problem solved (jkr is so good at this) and plus imo that also happened simply bc if Remus checked on Harry, he would be a father figure to him 100% (the role given to Sirius), and jkr didn't want Harry to have the same close connection with Remus as he did with Sirius. It would make harry -Sirius's relationship unimportant... Take Sirius's other relationships, for example. When he escaped Azkaban, he had no family, no lover, no one. Initially, I was like, "Yeah, okay," and that seemed fine. But later, it occurred to me that maybe he was written that way because he had to be solely for Harry. Like, he shouldn't care about anyone but Harry. Sirius isn't allowed to prioritize anyone over his godson.

to be fair, anon, i think two things can be true at the same time. a lot of stuff does happen in the hp universe for plot reasons---this doesn't necessarily mean it's always bad writing.

the plot required harry to be unaware of the wizarding world, alright. i don't see how this means remus would've taken, like, custody of harry or something if it hadn't! remus IS a coward. he IS extremely self flagellating. it IS completely plausible that he knew petunia wasn't a great person and left harry there anyway!

(take DH for example. he says tonks will be safe with her parents right after he tells them that her parents have been tortured for information. he isn't a stupid man, he's being deliberately cowardly.)

i understand that you probably really like remus, or at least the good bits of him, but character traits you dislike do not equal bad writing. remus consistently shows himself to be extremely passive-aggressive, conflict avoidant and unable to actually follow through on his conscience. i don't know about you, anon, but i can definitely see a man who convinced himself that withholding information about a wanted murderer was OK, convincing himself that harry is safe and better off without him.

jkr didn't have to use plot reasons to thwart remus and harry's budding relationship so that sirius could step in because...there isn't a scenario that exists wherein canon remus would step in to be an orphaned harry's father figure. i'm genuinely curious as to why you think he might. THAT, if anything, is what seems ooc to me.

as for lily, that seems to be pattern with jkr's 'popular girls'. i can't name five of ginny's friends if my life depended on it. it was also obviously done so that the snape reveal would have a greater effect. but lily isn't an established character the same way remus is.

as for sirius? i don't think it's unrealistic that he didn't have a lover/anyone waiting for him. i think people tend to forget he was only barely 22 when he got locked up; plenty of people haven't begun sorting out their lives at that age. lest we forget, he was also fighting a war pretty much the second he left hogwarts. not great for the dating scene, that. i don't think it's unrealistic at all that he hadn't thought about girls (or boys) or settling down at that time in his life.

but even if he had, i can't fathom a world in which he wouldn't transfer the love and devotion he had for james to james' son.

#answered #anonymous #remus lupin #sirius black #sirius and remus are FUNDAMENTALLY different so i genuinely cannot imagine a plot #that would have remus being the father figure to harry #whilst sirius was discarded on the side #like that's just...not them!

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emeritusemeritus · 5 months

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Vulnera Sanentur [Weasley Twins x Reader]

Part 11

Part 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14

Title: Vulnera Sanentur

Pairing: Fred Weasley x Reader x George Weasley {established relationship} mentions of Snape x Reader.

Timeline: DH1&2- Initially set during the battle of the seven potters. Canon and certain plot points have been altered for the needs of the story.

Summary: The battle of the seven Potters throws your world into chaos when one of your boyfriend’s is cursed. As Snape’s ex-potions assistant and previous protégée, you recognise the inflicted curse immediately and demand answers from your mentor.

Warnings: Angst, mentions of war and Voldy, descriptions of injury and blood, descriptive smut, p in v sex, shower sex, tension. Outside sex. Semi public sex. None sexual nudity. Crying. Snape has a soft spot for reader. Arguments. Probably some cursing. Mentions of nightmares. Reader is part of the Order of the Phoenix. Mentions of death (Dumbledore). Mentions of Tonks’ pregnancy. On it got a angsty. So much angst I can’t tag it all. Not spellchecked nor beta read, we die like Madeye.

Only a few more chapters left to go now. This one hurt my Severus loving heart🖤

It's cold and dark in your mind but your body feels like it's on fire, trapped in an inferno that won't end. You'd scream if you could but you're trapped, rendered silent and frozen as your insides blaze without reprieve. Your suffering continues though you fight through it, ploughing on even with a pain-clouded mind and blurry vision as the blood continues to pour from your body.

You try and focus your eyes upon your opponent, forcing yourself to look harder and be stronger, using what little power you have left to continue to fight.

Nagini is hissing wildly, her huge, thick body roiling on the floor as if she's under the cruciatus curse, pain consuming her. There's a sound emitting from her that sounds ungodly, a mixture between a hiss and a scream that makes you feel as if your own throat is burning through the awful sound. Her body vibrates, continuing to convulse on the floor and you take a moment to back away, stumbling backwards as you slide across the floor, not realising until that moment that you'd fallen to your knees. The sharp rubble slices at your hands but you don't feel it, your mind screaming at you knowing you needed to get a safe distance away.

You fix your wand upon the multiple, horrifying gashes in Nagini's body, leaking both blood and black liquid which had mixed together to form the most grotesque sight you could fathom. The skin around her wounds was quickly turning black and your consciousness was fading in and out though you fought to pull every ounce of strength from yourself to focus. Taking steadying breaths, you think of Severus, the dear friend you had lost, feeling more than ever that you needed him right now.

"Vulnera Sanentur, Vulnera Sanentur, Vulnera Sanentur."

You drag your wand across her skin, watching at the lines on her body heal but not completely. It draws the black liquid out of her slowly, like pulling an invisible thread out and you watch in relief as the wounds begin to lose their black hue.

You were weak, much weaker than you hoped to be and you knew with little consolation that you might not be able to get out of this, your own blood still dripping onto the floor by your feet. Your eyes were closing on their own accord, exhaustion overcoming you no matter how hard you fought.

You dragged your wand over your own skin now, trying desperately to stop the blood flow, seeing the black venom infecting the deep gashes on your arm. The incantation was weak but you managed to draw the black venom out of your arm, just. The wounds were far from closed but the blood flow had slowed and that was all you could do.

It hadn't worked. Nagini was still a snake, not the woman you'd had seen in your mind; nothing you had done had worked. You forced yourself in your last moments to think of your boyfriends, their infectious laughter and gorgeous smiles. A loop of memories played in your mind, a montage of favourite moments together throughout the years. The first time you met, the first kisses, the last kisses and everything in between. They had each other, you reasoned, feeling a slither of peace at that very fact, knowing that whatever happened to you, they wouldn't be alone.

Your eyes briefly opened again upon hearing a haunting sound, a hissing that only increases with volume and intensity, immediately causing you to enter an internal fight or flight reaction though your body was still paralysed with exhaustion. Your mind takes a few moments to realise exactly what is happening as you register the figures of two people nearby, their outlines becoming clearer with each passing moment as your vision cleared, though you couldn't hold your eyes open for long.

Ron and Hermione.

You were encased around the large, wrapped trunk of Nagini's body, though you felt no pressure on your limbs, no constriction. The snake was wildly hissing at Ron and Hermione who were trying to approach you with horrified eyes, their wands fixed upon the snake with conviction. She was protecting you.

"Ron no! If you miss, you'll hit y/n!" Hermione wailes, tugging on his arm which had his wand aimed at Nagini. He looked furious, more angry than you'd ever seen him, a look in his eyes which showed he was out for revenge. The snake hisses in fury at Ron, sensing his intentions and gives a warning snap of it's head, showing the vicious fangs to warn them away. You can only see the side profile but even from your limited view, the blood covered fangs and healed but visible gashes across her body were a terror inducing sight.

Closing your eyes, you tried to connect to Nagini, finding nothing in the darkness behind your eyes. You're exhausted, both mentally and physically but you push harder, searching deeper and further in your mind for any sign of the snake, but there's nothing, the connection had been broken.

You open your eyes, feeling it easier now as the light no longer hurts your eyes, finding strength in the knowledge that something had changed, something must have worked.

You shift slightly, attempting to think of ways to get out of Nagini's hold and almost instantly she senses your movement. You reach blindly for your wand but feel nothing, preparing yourself for the imminent attack, but nothing comes. Instead, she unfurls herself from around you and with one last vicious hiss in Ron and Hermione's direction, she turns to you, watching you carefully as she peels her body away from yours, shifting to lie between you and your friends. You don't break her gaze, eyeing her carefully with the knowledge that she might attack the second you looked away.

You look into her eyes and see the woman staring back at you in your mind, looking frightened and lost, her eyes drawing you in. You feel compelled to explain, though she may not understand and there's no denying that the truth could cause her to attack, the uncertain nature of the serpentine creature only making you more afraid.

"You know don't you, what needs to be done," you say gently, still looking into her eyes. She continues to look at you and there's a momentary pause that passes where she doesn't respond in anyway, making you feel foolish for trying to communicate with the snake. She suddenly shifts her head and you immediately throw up your hand to stop Ron from moving forward as he prepares to lurch towards you, wand still aimed at the snake threateningly, his grip so tight you can see that his fingers have turned white. Her head slowly nods, though it's minuscule in movement.

There's a brief flash of embarrassment you feel at connecting this way with a creature but you sense that she can understand you completely.

"If there was another way," you begin to say but the rest of the words catch in your throat. Truthfully, you didn't know any other way of how to save her, of how to kill the Horcrux inside her without her perishing. Her head sinks to the floor, near your leg and suddenly she doesn't feel like a threat anymore. You sit there for some time, not knowing how to proceed, feeling like you'd reached an impasse.

All it took was a large bang out in the courtyard for the temporary armistice to be broken. Ron ran to the main doors just around the corner to look at what had caused the crash and he looked horrified as he explained with difficulty that Harry and Voldemort were duelling. It had to be now.

You turned to Nagini and noticed almost instantly how her demeanour had changed, her eyes no longer conveying any of the sadness or understanding, but instead looked cold and hardened. Her body had tensed and her tail had curled into her body tighter, all signs of alarming defensiveness. You understood immediately; the Horcrux within her was sensing her master only metres away. She could sense his danger, the treat to his life, which meant that the Horcrux within her, the slither of Voldemort's soul was also in danger.

Time seemed to slow as you realised too late the danger you were in, your proximity to the seemingly possessed snake putting you in imminent peril, especially without a wand. You ran, scrambling away until you backed up towards the wall, looking for some way of hiding, dragging Hermione with you so that she would be safe. It was like the predator in her had awoken, the last semblance of humanity drained from her mind as her body tenses, her body stiffening as she prepared to attack. You were defenceless and Hermione only had mere seconds to adjust to you throwing her back, as Ron leapt forward to protect her before Nagini lunged.

You watched at the snake flew through the air, her mouth wide open and blood soaked mouth hurtling towards you with an unstoppable force. You force yourself to think of your beloved boyfriends a s of your lost friend, desperately clinging to the love you'd received throughout your life as you waited for the attack.

But no pain came. Your eyes had closed on their own accord and you opened them tentatively to see a billowing cloud of black smoke rising in the air, clearing slowly to show the figure of Neville, bloodied and panting hard, the sword of Gryffindor in his hands. He'd done it, the very last Horcrux was dead.

Ron and Hermione held on to each other for the longest time, the near death experience pulling them closer together. You looked at Neville and leapt to your feet, throwing your arms around him. He stumbled briefly having not anticipated your embrace but held strong, wrapping his spare arm around you as you hugged him in both celebration and appreciation.

Then, you saw the translucent figure of a woman before you . It was the very same woman you'd seen in your mind, through the connection with Nagini. She was beautiful, the contrast of her dark hair and pale skin looked vibrant once again. The spirit's connection was brief, lingering just long enough for her to nod once at you, bowing her hair before she disappeared. You had done it, her spirit had been freed. The spell, your blood, mixed with hers and the venom really had worked.

You turned to Hermione and Ron, pulling away from Neville and found them to be staring at the exact spot where she hovered only moments ago, clearly having seen exactly what you had.

"Harry."

That one word prompted you all to run around the corridor and out into the courtyard, reminded that Harry was duelling the dark Lord with no assistance. You expected to see a myriad of lights and colour, the two powerful figures mid combat as each opponent fought for what they thought was right. Instead, you found Harry alone, stood in the crumbled courtyard clutching both his wand and the elder wand, staring down at the mythical hallow in amazement. He'd done it. He'd won. You'd all won.

Ron and Hermione ran towards him, embracing with triumphant glory, each of them pleased to be alive after facing their opponent head on. Neville fist bumped the air in celebration and limped quickly off back towards the main building, no doubt alerting the others that Voldemort had been defeated.

You stood alone, feeling suddenly overcome with emotions that you hadn't anticipated, conflicted to your very core. You felt a massive surge of relief of course, wanting nothing more than to celebrate alongside the trio and everyone else. But you felt sad and a little lost. You felt for everyone that had lost their lives in the battle, the damage that had been caused, for little teddy who had lost both of his loving parents in a single night and for Severus, who had died in your arms, a spoil of war.

But then you remembered the tear. The memory he had given you in his last moments. You looked upon the trio once more, seeing them rightfully still embracing and celebrating their win and with one last glance, you slipped back inside the castle and walked straight towards the headmasters office before anyone could stop you. You couldn't wait to get back to Fred and George, to be wrapped in their arms and back with everyone you loved, no longer having to feel fear or doom but this had to be done first, you needed answers and closure from the only person that could give you that.

Approaching the gargoyle staircase, you thought of that night so long ago when you'd slipped in to the castle and confronted Severus about George's injury. You thought of your anger, your resentment and your confusion that your friend and mentor could have done this to the man you loved, particularly as you approached the main doors, remembering how you had barged in the last time.

The office was largely undamaged, with only a few books and glass cases smashed on the floor from the attack. The pensieve pulled out automatically s you stepped further into the room, crossing the threshold with a nervous trepidation that made you pause, pulling the vial out of your pocket and holding it out with shaky hands.

You poured in the tear and watched as it swirled down, a bright white cloud of billowing smoke within the water, drawing you in. You took a deep breath and submerged your face into the tepid water, watching as the cloud parted and dispersed, forming into figures that you recognised immediately. Severus and Dumbledore. They were in the very office your body was suspended in, Dumbledore sat at his desk with Severus stood before him, attempting to walk out.

"Don't ignore me, Severus," Dumbledore says, causing the potions master to pause in the doorway. "We both know Lord Voldemort has ordered the Malfoy boy to murder me. But should he fail, one should presume the dark Lord will turn to you."

Severus stands resolute, looking upon Dumbledore with a blank expression. "You must be the one to kill me, Severus. It's the only way. Only then will the dark Lord trust you completely."

You watch as Snape's face drops subtly, his eyes expressing a hesitancy and pain that is almost palpable. The vision flickers and you see Snape shushing Harry in what you know to be the astronomy tower before the image of Dumbledore's falling body briefly flickers across your vision, the killing curse uttered by Snape ringing in your ears. The vision then flickers back to their meeting in the office, Dumbledore's weak and tired eyes imploring Severus.

"There will come a time when Harry Potter must be told something. But you must wait until Voldemort is at his most vulnerable."

"Must be told what?" Severus' deep baritone voice calls out, a frustration and element of concern in his tone.

The vision suddenly changes again and you watch as Severus enters the broken house you'd recognised from your trip to Godric's Hollow on Christmas Eve. You watched as he walked across the debris covered landing and caught sight of Lily dead on the floor, the infant Harry wailing in his cot only yards away.

"On the night Lord Voldemort went to Godric's Hollow to kill Harry, and Lily Potter cast herself between them, the curse rebounded."

You can feel the affection he felt for Lily with the sound of her name, and then the devastation and pain at discovering her body on the floor in the nursery. It's gut wrenching and crippling to feel everything he felt and you now understood that he had loved her, he had loved Lily Potter.

"When that happened, a part of Voldemort's soul latched itself onto the only living thing it could find, Harry himself." Dumbledore has begun walking down the platform steps in his office, his legs weak and his frame looking frailer than ever as you see his blackened hand, the curse from a Horcrux.

"There's a reason Harry can speak with snakes. There's a reason he can look into Lord Voldemort's mind. A part of Voldemort lives inside him."

"So when the time comes," Severus says, squinting at Albus who has reared closer to him now, the tension in the room growing increasingly denser and thick. "The boy must die?"

"Yes."

"You've kept him alive so that he can die at the proper moment," Severus accuses, his tone suddenly much harsher, "you've been raising him like a pig for slaughter."

"Don't tell me now you've grown to care for the boy?"

Then you see him look out of the window, the darkness in the sky only further proof that this was conversation had late at night, in complete secrecy. You watch as Severus casts the patronus charm and a familiar glowing doe whips around the room before exiting through the glass, the illuminated spot fading as it disappears further into the sky.

"And y/n, you have grown to care for her too?" Albus asks. You watch as Severus becomes instantly more defensive, his eyes squinting and mouth opening before closing rather harshly, his chest puffing.

"That is none of your concern," he answers in a deadpan way, his eyes averted to a spot on the wall where the portrait of Phineas Nigellus Black hangs.

"But Severus it is, do you not see that she is involved?"

Snape's head whips round quicker than a flash until he's staring back into Albus' eyes with a fierce glare, though beneath the stare is concern and worry.

Flashes of yourself appear in Snape's memory, a strange thing to have seen memories you yourself had but from the other perspective. You see yourself in your sixth year, singled out in his vision as he watches you work, creating a batch of what you remember to be Sleeping Draught in class. The next memory shows the following week, your meeting in his office, seeing you smile and laugh as his deep chuckle fills your ears. You see as different memories merge together of you working together, annotating his books and transcribing his notes, the visions of you shifting to memories you had never known, of Severus watching you and glancing at you when you weren't paying attention. You can feel a warmth again to these memories, feeling the affection he felt for you, as if you were able to experience it exactly how he had, much like the memories of Lily.

"You said that you would protect her! You said by making her my apprentice it would shield her from his notice!"

"The dark Lord may be unaware of her prowess but I fear her connection to the Weasley's will have attracted the attention of her peers." There's a flash of you, Fred and George sat in the great hall from Snape's perspective at the top table, he sees you laughing and resting your head on Fred's shoulder, though the memory is brief.

"There's little I can do, Severus. They will need her," Albus says with conviction.

The memory shifts again before your eyes and you see Severus sat alone in his office, his corporeal patronus dancing wildly around the room as he binds together pieces of what you recognise to be the Lebetum, the misted glass opened as he summons the doe inside. He thinks of you, your laughter playing like a melody in your own ears and there's a brief moment where you can smell the scent of your hair as you watch the words 'Expecto Dominum Meum' appear across the black device just as you had experienced many times before.

There's a brief memory that flashes and you watch as Severus pulls a book from his bookshelf in what you assume to be his home, followed by him using the book as a glossary as he translates his words whilst writing. The next memory cuts in of you receiving the book from him, his deep voice speaking over the memory that you will need this to translate and transcribe his newest paper, handing you the book of Latin phrases and texts.

"You love her," Albus' voice cuts through and you watch as Dumbledore and Snape are stood on a cliff top somewhere, the exchange between the pair is rife with tension.

"Yes," he says, his deep voice speaking matter of factly.

"You've protected her all you can," Albus says, perhaps slightly gentler now.

"It's not enough," he says, his black sleeved arms wrapping around himself, turning to look out into the distance. You know he's thinking about you, and of Lily, the two women he felt he'd lost, slipping between their fingertips. "It will never be enough." He reaches into his pocket and thrusts the black device of his own creation that he'd pulled from within the folds of his cloak into the older man's wrinkled hands, who gapes at it for a moment, a frown pulling between his eyebrows.

"Severus, you can't possibly," Albus begins speaking but he's cut off when Snape looks up from the Lebetum with an expression you had so often seen, the fixed, harsh stare that told whomever he was speaking to that he would answer no questions nor explain further, his word absolute.

"Until my heart stops beating. With hope, even after."

The memory fades and the smoke like memory disappears into the water until it's no longer visible. You pull out of the water and sink to your knees, sitting on the bottom stone step of the desk platform, gathering your thoughts.

You sobbed uncontrollably, chest and shoulders heaving with the effort as you let every bit of pain consume you, every emotion you'd tried to hold back from the moment you left Bill's wedding and everyone behind in your hunt for the Horcruxes, realising that you had been played like a pawn in a game of wizards chess. You cried for your lost friend, knowing now that he loved you. You cried for everything that could have been, for how he'd protected you the whole way through without knowing, for the pain you felt at being so close but so far away from Fred and George, for the months spent pining for them, for the horrors you'd seen and what you'd been through.

You gasped for breath between your sobs, clutching your arms around yourself as you rocked gently, feeling entirely consumed by pain. You should feel victorious and triumphant, celebrating with everyone else in the castle but you couldn't face it, not when you felt so far away from yourself.

Your thoughts were consumed with Severus and what you'd seen in his memories and you wondered if you'd loved him too. You loved Fred and George, that was evident to everyone around you and to yourself but you'd never considered the piece of your heart that had remained with Severus, realising much too late that you had loved him too. Maybe not in the same way that you did the twins but it was undeniable that there was something there much stronger than friendship alone.

Your sobs had subsided eventually and you sat on the cold stone with a vacant expression, gaze fixed upon an uninteresting spot on the floor. You felt drained in every sense of the word; your mind was slowly going blank, unable to string two solid thoughts together as the mental and emotional strain took its toll on you. Your body felt weak and broken, pain and soreness now evident in your injured body, feeling the full effects of your shoulder injury and the cuts on your arm. You look down at the deep gashes on your arm and begin to slowly peel your jacket away, cringing and wincing as the dried blood around the cuts rips away having connected your jacket to the broken skin.

You cast a healing spell on the cuts but it's weak, knowing that you couldn't perform the correct incantation as much as you wanted to, your body too exhausted and drained. You pondered, just for a moment, the irony of the cuts on your arm. The spell created by your mentor intended to inflict pain for those he hated, but instead inflicted upon the woman he loved to free her from her torment.

You sat for a while thinking of the memories he'd shown you, realising now that all his words had made sense. He'd asked you to forgive him, telling you that one day you'd understand. He'd protected you when you needed it most, provided you with his own guardian in the form of a patronus and saved your life multiple times even from afar. He'd given you all the clues, the biggest of all being the book of Latin phrases, somehow knowing that it would be the key to surviving, putting his faith in your ability to decode it. He'd loved you. He was never a true destheater but had been the bravest man alive to act as a spy for the order, for the sake of everyone who seemingly hated him.

One thing had always bothered you, once singular piece of knowledge that had plagued you since the moment you'd been bequeathed with the Lebetum.

You stood slowly, throwing your jacket back over you to cover the scars and the wounds that littered your body and dusted yourself off, though it was a pointless effort as your clothes and skin were still stained with Severus' blood. You stepped towards the littering of books on the bookcase and tried to find the off-white leather book amongst the rows of text, hoping it was there. It wasn't. It was, however, laid on the desk, already open.

You searched through the glossary of words, alphabetically listed as you turned to the section you needed.

Lebetem, or Lebetum (noun) translates to Cauldron. A large metal pot used for brewing potions over an open fire. Can also refer to a situation characterised by strong emotions.

You felt gobsmacked by the revelation, realising that it was most likely a joke played by Severus, a little twist of humour he'd integrated in the the situation.

You then thought of the translation Mr Ollivander had given you of the text on the device, Expecto Dominum Meum, and his little chuckle when you explained that it was a Lebetum, realising now that it all made sense. He’d recognised you as Snape’s apprentice and had only chuckled when he pieced it all together.

Lebetum, Cauldron, a necessity of brewing potions.

Expecto Dominum Meum, I await my master.

I await my potions master.

You laughed out loud; an honest and very real laugh that you felt hadn't happened in such a long time. You'd been blind to it all this time, his intricacies never failing to amuse and astound you. You felt an immense sense of gratitude erupt from you and though you were naturally devastated that he was no longer here, nor were you able to thank him for everything he'd done, the Lebetum had done the trick to make you feel a little better, giving you humour in a time of sheer upset.

You wanted a shower desperately, a hot cup of tea and the comfort of your loved ones around you. You looked down at the book of Latin translations and smiled, touching your hand to the old pages before you walked away, feeling calmed.

You closed the doors to the office as you exited, casting one last glance at the intricacy of the wood and walked down the staircase, back towards the great hall where you hoped everyone was still gathered.

Bill spotted you first and leapt up from his seat to close the distance between you, pulling you into his chest. The unlikely friendship you'd forged during your time at shell cottage was entirely unexpected but welcome, his ability to make you feel at ease and protected was unparalleled, his role of big brother extending to you.

"Stop scaring me like that," he mutters and you can hear the slight smirk in his voice, making you chuckle. "Told you you were tough, wouldn't find me dead near a snake." You chuckle again and start to snark that Werewolves were fine but not snakes, but you're stopped as you see two near identical and very welcome faces waiting anxiously behind Bill. You pull apart, giving him one last smile before he slips back to sit beside Fleur at the table, allowing you to properly reunite with his brothers.

There's a singular beat that passes where you stand still, looking at them with a trepidation to your gaze. You felt guilty for leaving them alone, to fight your own battles without considering theirs. They both looked disheveled and dirty, eyes dark and tired and for the first time that night you no longer thought of your own exhaustion or torment.

Fred moves first and pulls you in for the tightest embrace he'd ever given, his hand holding your waist close to his body and his left hand cradling your head. He kisses you without abandon, uncaring and unashamed of anyone nearby as your emotion pours into the kiss, a thousand apologies and comforting words said silently between you. A tear falls from your left eye, overwhelmed by your official reconnection but he doesn't miss it, moving his thumb to swipe it away as he pulls his lips away from yours reluctantly, savouring the feel of your lips against his.

"I love you so much," he says, leaning down to press a kiss to your forehead as he begins to rock you gently side to side. "You're never leaving again, you hear me? I can't ever be apart from you again." Another tear slips at his words and all you can do is nod in agreement, blindsided by the emotion and conviction of his words.

"Never again," you reply, reaching out to grab the material of his jacket, feeling as if he'd slip away if you let go. He senses this and presses one last kiss to your lips before pulling away and stepping aside, allowing George to scoop you up.

Fred and George were different in many ways but it was never more obvious to you than when you were in their arms. George always seemed taller somehow, your head not reaching as far up onto his shoulder as it did with Fred but it was equally as comforting to be pressed into the centre of his chest. His arms caged you and held you tightly, shoulders and breasts smushed against the hard plains of his body but you didn't care.

"Tell me it's over, Angel, please don't leave again."

His voice sounds broken and like a little boys, lost and afraid, a sound that breaks your heart. You pull away firmly, looking up into his gorgeous face.

"I'm staying right here, forever," you say, reaching up to touch his cheek as you lean up, making it clear that you want a kiss. He obliges immediately and kisses you with a passion and intensity you hadn't quite anticipated. His hand find yours and he holds on to you tightly, one large hand grabbed around your back as your right hand stays on his face.

Once the kiss ends, Fred steps back to join you both as both twins grab for you, your small frame between their much larger once's making you feel safe and secure. Eventually you are pulled away by Molly who can't wait any longer and you're smothered by her fussing until Arthur pulls her away with a knowing smile before he embraces you. Each person embraces you as you're passed around the group, feeling every ounce of love they give.

There's a moment where you and Harry look at each other before you embrace, a wordless question about your shared connections to darkness. You shake your head with a smile, telling him that your connection had been severed and he nods his head with the same mirrored look, both of you smiling widely as you realise that it was now just you, no longer plagued by another's emotions or memories. You throw your arms around his neck, both laughing as you finally feel the celebratory mood everyone else felt, now that you were back with the people you loved.

Ginny brought you a hot cup of tea from one of the little reserves that had been set up and you thanked her kindly, taking a seat in between Fred and George, in your rightful place. Instantly, their arms lock you into place with George's arm extending around your back and Fred's large hand covering your thigh, keeping you anchored to them. Everyone was laughing and joking, telling their own stories and as you looked around at your loved ones, though missing one important person; you felt happy.

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bluethepineapple · 10 months

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Reconciling Kindness and Callousness: A Discussion on Hermione and Emotions

One of the aspects that people struggle a lot with when it comes to Hermione is how she deals with emotions. This is a struggle that I, personally, find to be fair because she is quite complex in this regard.

Hermione can analyze people's emotional states well and is often shown manipulating emotions to get what she wants. We can see this as early as Philosopher's Stone where she, for example, flatters Hagrid to get him to reveal more information about the Stone.

“Oh, come on, Hagrid, you might not want to tell us, but you do know, you know everything that goes on round here,” said Hermione in a warm, flattering voice. Hagrid’s beard twitched and they could tell he was smiling. “We only wondered who had done the guarding, really.” Hermione went on. “We wondered who Dumbledore had trusted enough to help him, apart from you.”

As the series goes on, we will find more and more examples of Hermione perceiving, analyzing, responding, and even using other people's emotions with great accuracy and sensitivity. Most notable perhaps is her explaining Cho's emotional state to Harry and Ron in OotP, but several smaller examples are littered all over the books like her being the first to notice Neville's distress in GoF, correctly reading Harry's feelings about the Goblet of Fire, and giving a similar analysis for Tonks in HBP among other.

For as many examples as we can give of her perceptiveness and sensitivity to emotions, it also cannot be denied that Hermione commits massive social blunders over the series, many of which are attributable to emotional stupidity or failing to read the room. Most notable perhaps is her reaction to the death of Lavender's bunny where she uses it as a jumping point to try and convince her of the bogusness of Divination. There are many other examples of course, ranging from her haranguing Harry and Ron early in PS, to her approach with the house-elves, to insisting Harry teach them DADA in OotP despite his obvious discomfort.

How does one then reconcile Hermione's great sensitivity to people's emotions with her just as great callousness, both being prominent and consistent aspects of her character all throughout the series.

To me the answer is three-fold.

First, Hermione is incredibly cerebral even when it comes to emotions.

It is worth noting that Hermione's assessments of people aren't actually instinctive or even very empathetic. Rather, they are often profiles she builds about people based on observation and inference.

Let us take a look at the way she dissects Cho's feelings for example:

“Well, obviously, she’s feeling very sad, because of Cedric dying. Then I expect she’s feeling confused because she liked Cedric and now she likes Harry, and she can’t work out who she likes best. Then she’ll be feeling guilty, thinking it’s an insult to Cedric’s memory to be kissing Harry at all, and she’ll be worrying about what everyone else might say about her if she starts going out with Harry. And she probably can’t work out what her feelings toward Harry are anyway, because he was the one who was with Cedric when Cedric died, so that’s all very mixed up and painful. Oh, and she’s afraid she’s going to be thrown off the Ravenclaw Quidditch team because she’s been flying so badly.”

Hermione says what Cho's feeling and then follows it up with the circumstances that might have created those feelings plus her evidence for them. She lays everything out in a clean and methodical manner very reminiscent to when she's lecturing the boys about some sort of fact in their missions.

While certainly not cold or emotionless, it does become readily apparent that Hermione processes the emotions of people around her the same way she processes most other forms of information. She "studies" people around her, and from there, builds a baseline of information against which she infers what they are feeling and decides how to respond accordingly. In many ways, people's emotions to her are information just like any other.

Secondly, as kind and as warm as Hermione is, she prioritizes problem-solving over caretaking and is amazing at compartmentalizing emotions away if that's what it takes to get things done.

The fact that she understands what someone else is going through does not always mean she prioritizes these feelings. As mentioned above, what she understands of other people's emotions is just another bit of information she holds - and how she uses these facts vary wildly depending on whichever problem she was trying to solve at the time. Whenever she makes a social blunder, it is almost always traceable to her needing to solve some problem first and insisting on solutions that require significant emotional costs from the people around her.

The most extreme version of this is probably her insisting that Ron focus on their mission right after Fred dies.

They seemed to be wrestling together, and for one mad second Harry thought that they were embracing again; then he saw that Hermione was trying to restrain Ron, to stop him running after Percy. “Listen to me—LISTEN RON!” “I wanna help—I wanna kill Death Eaters—” His face was contorted, smeared with dust and smoke, and he was shaking with rage and grief. “Ron, we’re the only ones who can end it! Please—Ron—we need the snake, we’ve got to kill the snake!” said Hermione. But Harry knew how Ron felt: Pursuing another Horcrux could not bring the satisfaction of revenge; he too wanted to fight, to punish them, the people who had killed Fred, and he wanted to find the other Weasleys, and above all make sure, make quite sure, that Ginny was not—but he could not permit that idea to form in his mind— “We will fight!” Hermione said. “We’ll have to, to reach the snake! But let’s not lose sight now of what we’re supposed to be d-doing! We’re the only ones who can end it!” She was crying too, and she wiped her face on her torn and singed sleeve as she spoke, but she took great heaving breaths to calm herself as, still keeping a tight hold on Ron, she turned to Harry. "You need to find out where Voldemort is, because he’ll have the snake with him, won’t he? Do it, Harry—look inside him!”

From the section I bolded, it is obvious that Hermione knows that Ron is grieving and that she too is feeling the horror of Fred's death as well. It is worth noting though that she doesn't actually spare any words to comfort Ron. She doesn't stop to talk him through his feelings - rather she is telling him over and over that their mission has to come first. They both watched Fred die, but her focus even now is seeing the mission through.

This leads us to the final aspect:

Hermione projects this ability to compartmentalize to the people around her, especially when she believes them to be working together.

It is noteworthy that not only did Hermione set her own emotions aside, she asked that Ron do so too. And when Ron finally calms down, she then asks Harry to go and look into Voldemort's head. Not only is she compartmentalizing her own emotions away, she expects both boys to do so too.

Once more, there are many smaller instances like the above that cropped up all over the series. The Lavender problem, her campaign with the house-elves, her insistence that Harry teaches them DADA, her many many arguments with Harry - all of these are traceable to her insistence on setting emotion aside to solve a problem.

Doing the right thing holds primacy over people's feelings - both her own and those of the people around her.

Conclusion:

Hermione is a sensitive individual who reads people's emotions well and has many times reacted with great kindness and empathy to distress. This ability to read emotions however happens in line with her very cerebral personality, and while she can be sweet and caring, when push comes to shove Hermione focuses on problem-solving. This oftens leads to a disregard for other people's feelings and a consistent streak of callousness.

All in all, I find Hermione's relationship with emotions to be utterly fascinating. It is complex and dynamic, something that we see grow with her over time. Her reactions and tendencies are not clear-cut nor easy to map. Not only does Hermione defy the false dichotomy of book intelligence versus emotional intelligence, both are integral in the way she processes and reacts to emotion.

#hermione granger #hp meta #hermione meta #my metas

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apoptoses · 10 months

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Have you ever been reading Devil’s Minion and thinking to yourself, “damn, I just can’t nail down a face for Daniel”? Have you watched Interview with the Vampire and felt like neither Christian Slater nor River Phoenix hit the mark for you?

Allow me to introduce you to James fucking Spader.

Look at him! Is that not the face of Daniel, completely fed up with Armand feeding his cigarettes down the garbage disposal?

He’s got the naive and beautiful face but ALSO the defiant yet beseeching thing down! Also he was like 22 here, which is right around the age Daniel met Armand so he’s at peak Healthy, Pretty Molloy here. No wonder Louis decided to take him home!!

“Do you know what a zip code is, or a tax bracket? I’m the one who buys all the goddamned airline tickets. Millions. How are we going to get millions! Steal another Maserati and be done with it, for God’s sakes!”

Spader is the original 80′s pretty boy you’d assume starred as the leading man in some schmoopy romances or schlocky teen dramas and he did that for a minute. Like check him out in Pretty in Pink-

Is this not peak Night Island Daniel, in his Miami Vice looking bespoke suit ready to head out with Armand for the night?

Look at him snuggled into his blanket in Tuff Turf, like Daniel hungover and forcibly woken up to honky tonk piano tunes!

But the deliciousness doesn’t end at his looks. Because in true Molloy fashion that man said ‘you know what? I wanna make movies for freaks and weirdos only’

In Sex, Lies and Videotape he plays the sweetest pervert who loves interviewing women about their sex lives, video taping it, and then watching them back naked but not actually getting off! He’s impotent, he’s a gentle and lovely weirdo, there’s vampire!Daniel fodder for days in this one.

Crash is a horny flick that defies all explanation and really you need to go in blind if you’re gonna watch this one, but let me just say this: If Spader and his Wife in this film aren’t the most Daniel and Armand coded couple in cinema history I will eat my shoes. Also there’s tons of beautiful footage of him driving around at night with his blond hair ruffling in the breeze.

Your prefer your Daniel with glasses? Oh, perfect, because in Bad Influence he plays a sweet guy who gets into a fucked up situation with a toxic friend and a sex tape!

In Storyville he lets himself be thrown on the floor and lays there submissively before getting involved in yet another sex tape scandal!

Don’t even get me started on Dream Lover, another smut filled romp (with some filthy deleted scenes if you google the uncut version) which has the most Devil’s Minion promo photos of all time-

Like! Get the fuck out!

I could just go all day about his body of work but some of it you’ve just gotta see for yourself. In pretty much every film you’re guaranteed smut with him being deliciously submissive, extremely gentle with his hands, and down for all kinds of kink. And in most of his movies he gets bloody at least once, like-

this is a shitty picture i took of my laptop but look at the blood at the corner of his mouth! Vampire activities!

In summary, let me hit you with a photo dump:

Daniel laying in a cheap motel room during the chase years!

Daniel with delightful 70s hair!

More glasses!Daniel!

Daniel with a half-buttoned 80′s shirt looking so beautiful it’s no wonder Armand couldn’t NOT turn him!

It’s dark, he’s wet, he looks exhausted!

He’s the ideal beautiful Molloy Weirdo and I will not be accepting any other arguments, goodbye!!

#it's Molloy Monday folks #strap in and get ready for this one #because this one is gonna change ur LIFE #i've been watching his films for like two months now #and they all have DM fodder in one way or another #i just can't believe he moves and touches and kisses exactly how i pictured daniel before i watched any of his stuff #also watching crash is a fucking religious experience #i highly recommend doing so without reading any spoilers #but yeah if you're reading my fic this is the man i am picturing as daniel as i write #ur welcome ♥#vc headcanons #armand/daniel #daniel molloy #Spader Molloy Masterpost

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ala-baguette · 3 months

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Could you tell us more about Kingsleys fondness and protectiveness of Harry. Love u to bits xxxx

What’s that? A Kingsley Shacklebolt meta, you say? Don’t mind if I do!

A relatively common and much-loved comment I get from some of my readers is that they never gave Kingsley much of a second thought before reading Knowing Where to Look. Let’s change that, because I need company in over-thinking about random side characters. Plus, I find Kingsley Shacklebolt so damn cool and other people should too! For such a small character who is mostly just in the background throughout canon, I am always so impressed by the volumes of information one can glean from his tiny one sentence lines. So, let’s start by looking at a few of these moments.

I’ll begin with the first time we meet him in Order of the Phoenix where he is part of the Advance Guard. I remember just falling in love with Kingsley right from the first time I read this chapter at roughly 2am the night the book was released. A few notable lines I present for consideration:

“‘Yeah, I see what you mean, Remus […] He looks exactly like, James.’”

“‘A surprising number of people volunteered to come and get you,’ said Lupin as though he had read Harry’s mind; the corners of his mouth twitched slightly.”

“‘Remus says you’re a good flier,’ said Kingsley Shacklebolt in his deep voice. ‘He’s excellent,’ said Lupin […]”

“Kingsley Shacklebolt and Sturgis Podmore were examining the microwave and Hestia Jones was laughing at a potato peeler […]”

“‘I’m just telling the boy the plan,’ growled Moody. ‘Our job’s to deliver him safely to headquarters, and if we die in the attempt—’ ‘No one’s going to die,’ said Kingsley Shacklebolt in his deep, calming voice.”

Information I infer from this first encounter:

Kingsley is highly trusted by Dumbledore and the rest of the Order despite having only been a member for a month or so. (I’m fairly certain he was not in the Order during the first war.)

Kingsley knew James on a personal level. He’s on a first-name basis, he remembers his appearance well, and Remus would have had no other reason to comment that Harry looked like him if he did not.

Kingsley is curious about Harry—likely in part secondary to Harry’s fame, but also, I suspect, on a more personal level (whether his apparent past relationship with James or his current one with Remus and Sirius).

Remus talks about Harry when Harry’s not around (I could probably write a whole meta on this sad and sweet observation, but I shall resist and stick to the topic at hand). We’ll come back to this.

He’s pure-blood or at least was raised with minimal exposure to Muggle technology.

He’s calm and level-headed and not afraid to call out melodrama, though he’ll do so patiently, respectfully, and gently.

We have several smaller encounters going forward in OotP that I also find telling:

“[Kingsley and Mr. Weasley] were talking to each other as though they hardly knew each other. […] ‘Here,’ said Kingsley brusquely to Mr. Weasley, shoving a sheaf of parchment into his hand, ‘I need as much information as possible on flying Muggle vehicles sighted in the last twelve months. We’ve received information that Black might still be using his old motorcycle.’ Kinglsey tipped Harry an enormous wink and added, in a whisper, ‘Give him the magazine, he might find it interesting.’ Then he said in normal tones, ‘And don’t take too long, Weasley, the delay on that firelegs report held up our investigation for a month.’”

“‘Molly, I’ll be late, I’m covering for Tonks, but Kingsley might be dropping in for dinner—'”

Harry caught the sound of his own name. Kingsley Shacklebolt’s deep voice was audible even over the surrounding chatter. ‘—why Dumbledore didn’t make Potter a prefect?” said Kingsley. ‘He’ll have had his reasons,’ replied Lupin. ‘But it would’ve shown confidence in him. It’s what I’d’ve done,’ persisted Kingsley. ‘’specially with the Daily Prophet having a go at him every few days…’

“Kingsley had run forward to continue Sirius’s duel with Bellatrix.”

“‘Alastor Moody, Nymphadora Tonks, Kingsley Shacklebolt, and Remus Lupin were all at headquarters [with Sirius] when [Snape] made contact.’”

My take-aways:

Kingsley has a good poker-face and can act a part that is required of him.

Kingsley is kind and considerate. He goes out of his way to send Sirius a copy of the Quibbler with an article featuring Sirius/Stubby Boardman, for no other reason than to make Sirius smile in a time when Sirius had precious little to smile about. Kingsley, in other words, is a big ol’ sweetie.

Kingsley drops in for dinner and any little festivities that happen at headquarters or with the Weasleys a few times throughout the series and is clearly welcomed any time, even when not truly on Order business. Along with this, I speculate he doesn’t have much by way of family or close personal connections outside of his friends at the Order.

Even when he has only just met Harry, Kingsley is already concerned for his feelings (not just his physical safety) when Dumbledore doesn’t make Harry a prefect. He is observant enough to notice that Harry is out of sorts and disappointed, which no other character particularly seems to notice. He’s already attuned to Harry’s moods even then.

Also from this same moment, we see that Kingsley is one of the few characters who doesn’t seem to entirely blindly assume everything Dumbledore does is best. He doubts Dumbledore’s judgment when he doesn’t make Harry a prefect. What else might he doubt?

Kingsley is brave and loyal. He jumps in to duel with the most ruthless Death Eater present who just killed his friend. Later, he does it again with Voldemort who he believes has just killed Harry.

Moody, Tonks, Remus, Sirius, and Kingsley are often described together. From their interactions, I see these five having a particular bond, beyond that of simply colleagues. They’re friends. What do all of Kingsley’s friends have in common? (1) They all have affection for Harry they show in one form or another throughout the series. (2) They all die. I’ll let that sit for a moment—we’ll come back to it.

Now we come to The Half Blood Prince and Deathly Hallows:

“‘I’m not getting rid of Kingsley Shacklebolt, if that’s what you’re suggesting!’ said the Prime Minister hotly. ‘He’s highly efficient, gets through twice the work as the rest of them—’”

“‘All right,’ [Uncle Vernon] said, stopping in front of Harry yet again. ‘All right, let’s say, for the sake of argument, we accept this protection. I still don’t see why we can’t have that Kingsley bloke.’ Harry managed not to roll his eyes, but with difficulty. This question had also been addressed half a dozen times. ‘As I’ve told you,’ he said through gritted teeth, ‘Kingsley is protecting the Mug—I mean, your Prime Minister.’ ‘Exactly— he’s the best!’ said Uncle Vernon, pointing at the blank television screen. The Dursleys had spotted Kingsley on the news, walking along discreetly behind the Muggle Prime Minister as he visited a hospital. This, and the fact that Kingsley had mastered the knack of dressing like a Muggle, not to mention a certain reassuring something in his slow, deep voice, had caused the Dursleys to take to Kingsley in a way that they had certainly not done with any other wizard, although it was true that they had never seen him with his earring in.”

“‘Miss Granger with Kingsley, again by thestral—’ Hermione looked reassured as she answered Kingsley’s smile.

“Kingsley showed no pleasure at the sight of any of them. Over Hermione’s shoulder, Harry saw him raise his wand and point it at Lupin’s chest. ‘The last words Albus Dumbledore spoke to the pair of us?’ ‘Harry is the best hope we have. Trust him,’ said Lupin calmly. […] ‘All right, all right!’ said Kingsley, stowing his wand back beneath his cloak. ‘But someone betrayed us! They knew, they knew it was tonight!’ ‘So it seems,’ replied Lupin, ‘but apparently they did not realize that there would be seven Harrys.’ ‘Small comfort!’ snarled Kingsley.

“‘Now they’ve put a Taboo on [Voldemort’s name], anyone who says it is trackable—quick-and-easy way to find Order members! They nearly got Kingsley—' ‘You’re kidding?’ ‘Yeah, a bunch of Death Eaters cornered him, Bill said, but he fought his way out. He’s on the run now, just like us.’

“‘I’d like to appeal to all our listeners to emulate their example, perhaps casting a protective charm over any Muggle dwellings in your street. Many lives could be saved if such simple measures are taken.’ ‘And what would you say, Royal, to those listeners who reply that in these dangerous times, it should be Wizards first?’ asked Lee. ‘I’d say that it’s one short step from Wizards first to Purebloods first, and then to Death Eaters,’ replied Kingsley. ‘We’re all human, aren’t we? Every human life is worth the same, and worth saving.’

“[…] Kingsley had stepped forward on the raised platform to address those who had remained behind [to take part in the Battle of Hogwarts]. ‘We’ve only got half an hour until midnight, so we need to act fast! A battle plan has been agreed between the teachers of Hogwarts and the Order of the Phoenix.’

“Voldemort was now dueling McGonagall, Slughorn, and Kingsley all at once.”

“One shivering second of silence, the shock of the moment suspended: and then the tumult broke around Harry as the screams and the cheers and the roars of the watchers rent the air. The fierce new sun dazzled the windows as they thundered toward him, and the first to reach him were Ron and Hermione, and it was their arms that were wrapped around him, their incomprehensible shouts that deafened him. Then Ginny, Neville, and Luna were there, and then all the Weasleys and Hagrid, and Kingsley and McGonagall and Flitwick and Sprout, and Harry could not hear a word that anyone was shouting, nor tell whose hands were seizing him, pulling him, trying to hug some part of him […]”

Observations:

Kingsley is likeable and has a skill for garnering trust. Both the Prime Minister and Uncle Vernon trust him despite having a general dislike for wizard-kind.

Kingsley is clever and adaptable and a good actor. We see fascination with a microwave in OotP suggesting he had minimal exposure to the Muggle world, but by DH, he is already able to play the part of a Muggle, dress like them, and conform to their society, something that the likes of Arthur Weasley, who has obsessively studied Muggles for years, never manages. He even knows enough to take out his earing (which he otherwise always seems to wear) to better appeal to the Dursleys conservative views.

A small speculation to which we can never know an answer but… Given that he knew Harry was listening, is it possible Kingsley’s choice of security question for Remus was intentionally chosen to offer Harry a little assurance that they had faith in him?

Kingsley is constantly described as calm and cool throughout all sorts of strife in the series, be he is not entirely unflappable. After the Battle of the Seven Potters, the man is visibly livid, and I love it! At no other time do we see so many exclamation marks in his speech. He has suddenly been forced to face the possibility that one of his friends betrayed them, and he is not okay! Even after this speech, he is totally flustered: he laughs derisively at Hermione’s naivety in an uncharacteristically impatient way; he seems panicked when he hears Voldemort had gone after Harry directly; he’s pacing the yard in a way that reminds Harry of Uncle Vernon as they’re waiting for the others to come back; he nearly comes to blows when Arthur arrives and is trying to get past him to see George… Can someone just please give the man a hug? (Obviously, this is a trait I’ve exploited in KwtL. Betrayal by a friend is definitely a sore spot for him.)

The Trio sees Kingsley as untouchable. Hermione’s relieved to be paired with him when they leave the Dursley’s house (and to not have to ride a broom). Harry’s shocked to hear of him in hiding in much the same way they are. They’re thrilled when they hear him speaking on the radio. They have unwavering awe and respect for Kingsley.

Again, I speculate that Kingsley doesn’t have a romantic partner or children. When Kingsley goes on the run, there is no mention of family which would have been a big concern if he had one.

Kingsley has a strong sense of morality and a drive to stand up for those weak and defenseless. Despite the fact that his blood status and that his family was one of the Sacred Twenty-Eight would likely allow him to simply sit out the war safely, he’s still in the midst of it, constantly fighting for the little guy.

Kingsley is a natural leader, but he really only takes up the mantel when he has to (ie, Dumbledore and Moody are dead and the Order is leaderless)

Just another reminder that Kingsley dueled Voldemort and he’s a badass.

Kingsley is one of the first to rush to Harry after he’s defeated Voldemort. He’s listed among all the people who love Harry most. (Shut up, I’m not crying, you’re crying.)

So we come to what is perhaps more your question, kind Anon. What is Harry and Kingsley’s relationship like post-war. As you point out, I write him as having fondness and protectiveness for Harry right from the beginning of Knowing Where to Look, and I have had readers challenge me (kindly) that Harry and Kingsley really weren’t that close in canon.

I’ll agree that Harry was not close with Kingsley, but I’m here to argue that that’s not entirely true the other way around. I think there’s subtle hints that Kingsley was fond and protective of Harry in canon. Whenever Kingsley knew Harry was in danger, he came running. I don’t think that was just duty to the Order. There’s a personal component there as well.

We know that at least Remus and likely Sirius spoke of Harry amongst other Order members. Before he even met Harry, Kingsley would have heard about Harry in ways that most strangers would not have heard of him. It’s almost certain he knew many of the details of Harry’s experience in the graveyard when Voldemort returned (most all Order members would have been briefed on this when the Order was reestablished). He had likely heard tales from Sirius and Remus of how Harry braved Dementors and werewolves and time travel to rescue Sirius. Maybe even rumors of his exploits with the Chamber of Secrets and the Philosopher’s Stone which Remus may have picked up from other professors when he taught at Hogwarts. Remus even spoke of Harry enough to have mentioned that he looked like James— something that would have had no bearing on the mission. The point is, the people surrounding Kingsley loved Harry, and I think that affection would naturally have bled into him just from the types of stories they were likely to tell about him.

Then, all those people who surrounded Kingsley and who loved Harry die. I think it’s very natural that as his friends— who were all so committed to protecting Harry— all died one-by-one, Kingsley would have taken up that mantel and felt the need to protect him in their place. Even if it wasn’t one hundred percent from his own personal affection at first, he would have felt this a duty he owed his departed friends who all died in the name of keeping Harry safe. After Harry emerges from hiding, older and more independent than ever, I think it would have been challenging for Kingsley to accept that Harry is not that kid he needs to protect (hence his sometimes-unwelcome paternal instincts in KwtL). Furthermore, given my theory that he is without family and especially after the loss of so many Order friends and colleagues, post-war Kingsley may have been a little starved for affection himself which may have encouraged him to reach out more to Harry as he struggled with the isolation of his position of power.

In conclusion, Kingsley loves Harry, and no one can convince me otherwise. He’s prepared to give up his career for him, and though Harry would be completely devastated to know it, he’s prepared to give up his life for him.

(A few random and less-related but perhaps still interesting headcanons: As I mentioned above, I doubt he is married or has children. I headcanon him married to his job and decidedly single and generally fine with that (who knows, maybe even aroace?). I know his age is never really stated or implied, but I headcanon him to be a few years older than the Mauraders. His vibe in the books just says forty-something for some reason. My completely unfounded headcanon is that the Shacklebolt and Potter Families were friends—Kingsley’s and James’s parents moved in the same social circles, throwing Kingsley and James together enough growing up to be friendly but not besties. Friendly enough that he may have attended Lily and James’s wedding, for example, but not so friendly as to have followed him into the Order the first time around. Again, these bits are purely my imagination and yes have no real importance to the story.)

Thanks for the Ask, Anon! I clearly have thought way too much about this. I hope you enjoy the insights into how my brain builds on characterization as I’m writing some of these smaller side-characters. Love ya back!

#kingsley shacklebolt #character analysis #meta #harry potter headcanon #knowing where to look

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thedoewitch · 11 months

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THE TRUTH ABOUT HARRY POTTER CHARACTERS

In the last few weeks, I've seen many arguments between the stans of different characters in the HP Fandom. And this, this exact post is about my opinion, mixed with canon (books) and how they normally should have been perceived.

This is part one of the series explaining the characters in the Harry Potter Universe. It will be long, seeing as many are hateful towards characters who did nothing wrong, or love them for all the wrong reasons.

Two big arguments will be explained in this post. Two biggest arguments about Anti-Character vs Pro-Character.

Anti-Dumbledore vs Pro-Dumbledore;

Now, there are many people who are on the anti-Dumbledore side of the fandom, and I can understand why. It is not a surprise, considering what has been done by Dumbledore in the series.

However, Albus is one of the many-layered characters. He was a Blood Supremacist throughout his life, even as an adult, until his sister Ariana Dumbledore died.

He is, like many others, a flawed character, just like us real humans are. He was in love with Gellert Grindelwald (Which he has no fault in, you cannıot control who you fall in love with), and was willing to take the world under their control just because Gellert wanted to.

In the Marauders and Lightening Era timeline, he did many horrible things. He went as far as using Fudge to gain things to his favor, he used Severus and Harry, and even Remus and Sirius and Rubeus (Hagrid) as the events unfolded, and he even neglected other students while trying to control everything that he can, even though he is a HEADMASTER, a person who s supposed to keep the school's students safe. And the fact that he left Harry in the Dursleys' footsteps and not checking on him properly was disturbing, no matter if Arabella Figgs was there. He didn't care to check up properly.

He did all of that, yes. There is no arguing about it, it is in The Fantastic Beast, in the Harry Potter books, in the Secrets of Dumbledore, in the Crimes of Grindelwald. He did all of those things that nowadays seem impossible to do.

But- He also did good things. He accepted Remus into the school, albeit it was stupid of him to do so with only a place he can transform that he can break free easily if not strictly controlled. He accepted him because he wanted people like him to have a chance.

We even see another werewolf student in the game called Hogwarts Mystery, which I liked and enjoyed. He is not prejudiced against them, and it makes their life easier.

He gave Harry and other students support throughout their life at Hogwarts. It excluded Slytherins, sadly, but he did try to be a good role model and also tried to relieve the students from stress by doing things like canceling the exams and even saying seemingly ridiculous words during the meals. He was truly afraid that Ginny was taken into the chamber, it is obvious in the CoS book when Lucius paid a visit to Albus.

He supported the adults like Alastor and Kingsley and Tonks, warned Sirius and the like against doing things that could be dangerous for their lives. He did care about them. Even, I'm sure, Marlene and Dorcas had a place in his heart because he does everything to help them win the war and live in peace.

Anti-Snape vs Pro Snape;

Severus Snape, like Albus, is a many-layered character. He is defensive and strict and is a bully throughout his adulthood. He is brave and courageous, stubborn and selfless.

Snape is not dark or light. He is not black or white. He is a Morally-Grey character through and through. There is no arguing against that.

Severus as a kid has done nothing wrong. The argument of him being obsessed with Lily when he was NINE is a very wrong thing to say. He was, as explained in the Pottermore likely abused by his father who was a drunkard, and from the writing in the books, his mother was likely neglectful as well. A kid who has gone through that will not have good social skills, or know how to talk to anyone politely. The fact that he is living in a dark neighborhood is probably an aspect of this as well.

He used accidental magic on Petunia, and he had no fault in it just like Harry had no fault when he deflated his aunt. Petunia insulted his mother, just like Marge insulted Lily. He had no control over his emotions, and thus, the accidental magic is not him being a hater.

During the train ride, all he said was he wanted to be in Slytherin. Why? Who knows, maybe his mother was sorted there and he wanted to feel closer to her. James and Sirius immediately attacked him with their words after that. Again, he is a kid. An 11 years old kid. He did not have a fault in that.

During his years at Hogwarts, he faced many more of the Marauder's bullying. And, yes, it was bullying, J.K Rowling said it, in the books even Harry thinks it is bullying, and Sirius accepts that fairly easily.

In his fifth year at Hogwarts, he is a fifteen-year-old and Sirius is 16 years old, Sirius sent him down the Willow Tree in the full moon. Why? Of that, I have a few theories but we don't know if any of them are true. He sent him down there on a FULL MOON, where Remus transformed, wanting to get a laugh of it.

He was almost killed, but saved by his enemy James Potter at the last second. He was forced to keep shut about this, which definitely added to his many traumas throughout his life. He was punished while he was the definite victim in this situation, along with Remus who was used by his best friend.

After this werewolf prank, it is obvious that the bullying got worse. It is probably because the Marauders had to do something to not let their friendship crumble, and blaming the whole situation on the victim, who is someone they hate or at the very least dislike seemed a good idea in their eyes. And thus, Snape's Worst Memory happened.

Lily and Severus' relationship was already falling apart by the fifth year. After the prank, they confronted each other and talked about the things they witnessed.

It is very disturbing how Severus did not care that Mulciber and Avery used dark magic on an innocent Gryffindor called Mary MacDonald. However, he also points out that the Marauders used a hex to grow Bertham Abrey's, a Slytherin's head grow his head twice its size. It is not Dark Magic, but clearly illegal. This hows that Marauders bullied everyone they could from Slytherin, and Sirius even admitted that himself.

Both of them are set in their ways. Lily doesn't acknowledge that Severus has to spend time with the Slytherins as he is a Slytherin himself. And Severus doesn't acknowledge that using Dark Magic to harm others is disturbing when others use Light Spells to hurt others instead, not realizing that both of them are wrong.

In SWM Lily definitely doesn't do everything she can do, along with Remus. They both are prefects but Remus stood back, and Lily only confronted the Marauders, not bothering to inform a professor at the very least.

Severus was very wrong in saying Mudblood to Lily. Sure, he was under a lot of stress, and he is a Half-Blood so the term also applies to him, but it was the last damage to crumble the wall of friendship the two had between them. But he did not deserve to get his trousers to get taken down and get threatened to be stripped completely. That was sexual assault, and no one deserves that.

After all of that, he apologized and left Lily alone. He was not obsessed with her. I'm sorry, but no one is saying that you cannot love a person who is in another relationship. It is not a crime, and he didn't even tell Lily about his feelings. (And I do not believe that 'feelings' were romantic. It was most definitely platonic, It is written like one, and the strong lesson the HP Series has is the power of Love.)

He went Dark after graduating, but when he discovered that he was going to be the cause of his ex-best friend's death he deflected quickly. I do not understand how people find this creepy. Regulus 'deflected' (not fully) for Kreacher, Narcissa, and Lucius for Draco and Albus for Ariana.

He agreed to be a spy for Albus and took a Vow to completely submit himself to a cause he had not yet believed completely in. After Lily's death, his life was devoted to protecting Harry.

He was a bully during his adult years. Now, it is mostly because traumatized people act mature, but their mentality goes backward, and the proper age of becoming fully mature comes later on. With his state, it would be at the very earliest when he was 53 that he would be fully mature, but it is also because he cannot let go of the past and heal from it.

He treated Harry and Neville horribly when not in class. And in class, he was strict with everyone. Even the others were the victim of his bad attitude.

However, no matter how mean he wanted his students to be safe. He protected Harry because of the Vow, that is true, however, he also protected and attempted to protect every other student, like the time he was worried for Ginny when he was taken into the Chamber.

He was a shitty person with a shitty backstory. He had no control over his emotions when he was with Harry, and bullied him because of his looks leaning towards James. It was not acceptable, and he was most definitely a bully, but he was not an abuser.

He despised physical punishments and refrained from physically attacking others, and the only exception was when Harry invaded his privacy when he looked into the pensieve.

He truly believed in the reasoning of the Light after all those years under the Vow. When it was clear that Harry was going to die no matter what he did, he did not go off to Voldemort to give him the secrets Dumbledore told him, no, he tried to protect his students and aided Harry secretly to destroy the Hocruxes.

He died a hero. Without him, the first Wizarding War would be won by Voldemort and everyone would be at Riddle's service to torture or kill or use. If he was loyal to Voldemort, the Battle of Hogwarts would end up with Voldemort truly killing Harry, and the whole fate was on his shoulders.

He is the bravest man throughout the series. He is a Hero, He is an Anti-Hero, he is an awesome spy, he is a bully, he is bitter, he is selfless, he is stubborn, he is loyal, and he is many more combined together.

He is not a villain, and he is not an evil reincarnate of a Nazi. He is a good person with bad doings. He is not innocent but he definitely deserved to be both praised and put down for all of the things he did.

#hp fandom #marauders #lightening era #marauders era #golden trio era #albus dumbledore #severus snape #snape fandom #the marauders #pro snape #young severus #snape community #snape #snape defense #snapedom #dumbledore #albus percival wulfric brian dumbledore #young dumbledore

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