#voldemort is only half dead

[ellecdc]

A Man With a Plan.4

prologue // p1 // p2 // p3 // p4 // p5 // p6

Remus Lupin x whimsical!reader - Hogwarts Era (no Voldemort) - Soulmate AU

CW: brief mention of a sexual encounter (non-explicit)

The following week-and-a-half was both chaotic and painful for (likely everyone involved, but specifically for) Remus Moony Remus (& Moony).

Remus (under the watchful glare of one Sirius Orion Black) apologized to James for speaking so rudely to him, and to Peter for upsetting the room.

Pete was quick to forgive him, whilst James just asked, “are you ready to talk about it?”. Remus replied no, James said “talk to me when you are”, and the two haven’t spoken much since. 

The closer and closer Remus got to the full moon, the more incessant Moony became. Even if you weren’t around, Moony was whining after you. When you were around, Moony was begging for you. 

Remus, much to Moony and Sirius’s (never mind his own) chagrin, would hear your soft lilting voice moving down the hall speaking to James, and would quickly grab Amelia and find the closest broom closet. 

After the 3rd or 4th time, he was starting to look like a horny pre-teen who just discovered playboy magazines.

But while Amelia was on her knees and his hand was on the back of her head, he could muffle the howling and yipping of the angry wolf for at least the moment, and it felt like enough.

Until it wasn’t.

“Stop, stop.” He groaned as he pulled away from Amelia’s wandering hands. She looked quite lovely – flushed, slightly damp and pupils blown wide, but Remus couldn’t appreciate much of anything with the chorus of ‘Need, need, need, need. Mine, mine, mine, mine’ inside his mind.

“What is it, baby?” She cooed at him. Remus had to fight back a grimace at the nickname.

“I ca-I can’t do this right now.” He said, bringing his hand to his mouth; he suddenly felt queasy.

“Are you sure? I can be a good girl for you.” She purred.

“No.” he said as he flung the door to the broom closet and nearly collided with you.

Dammit, how were you everywhere!?

“Oh, hello Remus! Are you alright?” You asked him.

Mine. 

Remus could only let out a keening sound in response – hand still pressed to his mouth.

Your eyes seemed to flit around his being – not actually looking at him but around him as your mouth pinched in concern.

“No, not alright at all.” You answered your own question, speaking more to yourself than anything. 

“Rem?” Amelia said as she rubbed his back and spotted you in front of him.

“Oh, L/N,” Amelia said with a chuckle. Remus felt his hackles rise immediately. “Your aura looks wonderful today.” 

Her voice was filled with contempt, but your eyes never left Remus’ form. 

“Here,” you said to Remus as you began to dig through your book bag. You missed the ‘tosser’ that Amelia threw your way, but Remus didn’t.

Moony wanted her dead.

“This should help, Remus. It’s mallowsweet, shrivlefig juice, powdered moonstone, and rosewater. I think it’s just what you need.”

Your voice was so soft and sweet, and Moony was so quiet while you spoke. Remus almost wanted to tell you to forget the vial you were offering as he felt his migraine lifting just from listening to you talk.

Remus might as well have been a puppet as he raised his hand to take the vial from you – he didn’t even know what this concoction was for, but if you kept looking at him like that? He’d drink forty of them.

You dropped the vial into his palm, keeping your fingers to yourself as if you were somehow aware he was afraid to touch you.

“I hope you feel better, Remus.” You breathed softly, parting from him with a gentle smile as you floated back down the hallway.

“Gods, she is such an airhead.”

Remus suddenly understood James a little bit better.

“Amelia,” he started as he turned to stare daggers at the girl, “don’t make fun of my friends.”

And he stalked off down the hall, opposite the way you’d just went.

It was Thursday evening, and there were only two more nights until the full. Remus sat at the table with his head in his hands as he tried to swallow against his gag reflex.

Amelia Bones was staring daggers at him from the Hufflepuff table, but it was you, speaking so sweetly to James across from him, that had his heart beating like a hummingbird in his chest.

Mine, pack! Pack! Pack! Mine, pack. 

Remus mentally grabbed The Wolf by the scruff, causing a pitiful whine and quiet whimpering to follow. He was too tired and too close to the full for this.

James was speaking animatedly to you about the niffler’s from class today, but Remus Moony could tell your mind was elsewhere.

“One moment, Jamie.” You said quietly to your friend as you began to walk away. Suddenly, you were standing behind Moony Remus.

“Excuse me, Peter. Would you mind terribly if I sat here?” You asked sweetly, pointing to the sliver of bench between the two of them. Sirius’ eyes flew to meet Remus’ from his spot across from him.

“Oh! Uhm, no, Y/N, not at all.” Peter agreed as he moved to create a space for you beside Remus.

As if it were the most natural thing in the world, you were suddenly sat between Remus and Peter, directly across from James who was placed beside Sirius. 

Remus felt his shoulders sag in immediate relief to have you so close to him. Horrifyingly, he felt tears spring to his eyes. He tucked his chin into his chest, knowing Sirius’ gaze hadn’t left him.

You pushed your ankle up against Remus’ as you continued discussing the pilfering little creatures from your class with James as the first tear fell. 

He wanted to be angry. But he couldn’t bring himself to.

He wanted to resent you. But he couldn’t bring himself to.

Because you were kind and sweet and understanding and patient. And he was the monster.

And somehow, you knew all of that. And yet, you sat here, beside him, and offered him what little comfort you could.

Remus was fucked.

You were at the quidditch game Friday evening. Gryffindor was playing Slytherin, so you appeared to be present only to cheer on James.

It was sweet.

Remus was fucked.

Amelia came too, which pissed Remus off seeing as Hufflepuff wasn’t playing either, but it gave him the chance to not sit there staring at the space beside you wishing he was selfish enough to take it.

Her company wasn’t as nice as yours, but Remus supposed beggars couldn’t be choosers.

The weather kind of sucked – it wasn’t raining but the air was thick with fog and mist, and visibility was low. Remus wasn’t sure how the players managed between the mist, the wind on their brooms, and their sweat, but the game raged on.

“Wait, so the little braids that you find on horses randomly...” Peter asked you from a few bleachers below Remus.

Remus kept his eyes on the players he could make out through the fog and pretended he wasn’t listening to your conversation.

“Yes, those are nargles. They appear at night and twist the hairs of horses or unicorns to create stirrups and leads so that they can ride them. It’s important you don’t undo them, though, as nargles may become frustrated that they have to redo their work. They are also more likely to return to ride your horse again instead of outright taking them for their own if you respect their work. Tricky little thieves, they are.”

“Huh.” Pete offered brightly. Remus smiled widely to himself. “Well, I suppose they also look pretty in the horse’s hair. Might as well leave ‘em.”

Remus felt a warmth radiating in his chest. He couldn’t see either of you as he kept his gaze on the game, but he could clearly picture your kind and airy smile, and how Peter had his body turned to you to ensure you had his full intention.

Moony loved it too.

Pack. Good. Good. Good. PaCk GooD. 

Remus began to think maybe he could handle this. Maybe he could keep you here, sort of at arm’s length but still within his reach. Maybe he could accept you as a friend and...pack member if that’s what Moony insisted on calling you.

Maybe this didn’t need to be all or nothing, maybe this could just be...

But Remus’ train of thought stopped as Moony began raging within his mind. Remus started to panic, thinking maybe he miscalculated the next full moon; he’s not been wrong about a moon once in his entire life, but fuck, stranger things have happened.

He looked to the sky, and even through the fog, Remus could tell the moon was nowhere near risen. He was also very sure the full moon was tomorrow night.

“Look out!” A player shouted from the pitch as Remus spotted a very large ball careening its way over...straight for you.

Mine. Mine. Mine MINE MINEMINEMINEMINEMINEMINEMINE.

Remus’ mind went blank as he stood from his place. Suddenly, he was standing in front of you as the ball hit him in the middle of his back. He grunted in mild discomfort, but it was far less damage than what could have been had it made contact with your face.

Your face, which was looking up at Remus with your mouth parted in gentle surprise, and your eyes searching his person.

“Remus! Are you alright, mate?” Peter cried in shock.

The whistle sounded on the pitch as players flew their way over to the Gryffindor benches to retrieve the ball. 

“Yeah, Pete, I’m fine. Doesn’t hurt that bad.” He offered, though his eyes never left yours.

“Moony, what the fuck was that?!” Sirius called from his broom.

“What was what? Aren’t you players supposed to aim the ball at each other?” He snarked back.

“Mate,” Pete whispered to him, “you apparated.”

He...he apparated!?

Hogwarts had ancient magical wards lining the school grounds and castles. One such ancient ward was an anti-apparition ward. No one should be able to apparate in or out.

Ignoring all of that, however...7th years still hadn’t been taught how to apparate yet.

Well...Remus didn’t know what to say about that. So instead, he asked “are you alright?”

You looked between him and his right shoulder for a moment before nodding. “Yes, Remus. Thank you. I’m very sorry about all of this.”

But before he could say - oh, that’s okay, or that’s not necessary, or even what the hell are you apologizing for? - you were out of your seat and leaving the stands.

“What did you say to her?” James barked at Remus from his broom beside Sirius, glare turning stormy.

“Nothing mate,” Sirius answered for him, “he just asked if she was alright.”

“Was she?” James asked, eyes softening slightly.

“Yeah, she’s okay.” Remus answered.

James seemed to analyze Remus’ face before offering him a curt nod and flying back to the centre of the pitch. 

“McGonagall’s going to be so pissed if you broke those wards, mate.” Peter muttered as the game resumed.

Sure, Remus thought, let’s focus on that. 

McGonagall was kind of pissed about the wards, but she told Remus it was but a minor tear within the grid and may be repairable. 

Seeing as the burst of accidental magic was...well...accidental (and lunar in nature, though he figured it was best they all ignored that little fact for the time being), he was off the hook for the damage.

He was the victim of relentless torment, however.

“Lord Rem, are you reading ahead to make the rest of us look bad?” Lily smirked from her place in the Gryffindor common room. 

Remus groaned into his book as he pulled it to the face.

“It was an accident.” He muttered miserably.

“Sure. Just watch your back, Lupin; I’m still top of the class.” She fired at him with a smirk.

The common room continued thinning out until it was only Lily and James playing wizards chess, Sirius and Peter playing exploding snap, and Remus trying to read his book as his muscles and joints swelled and groaned under the pull of the moon. Tomorrow night, and then he’d be free for the rest of the cycle.

Well, not free, seeing as now he was also plagued by you.

Suddenly, the group of five could hear the portrait of the Fat Lady screeching at someone in the hall.

“I will do no such thing; I am not a secretary” the muffled voice spat.

Sirius and Remus shared a confused look before the former stood and made his way to the portrait hole. 

“Reggie?” Sirius asked quietly as the portrait swung open to reveal the form of his younger brother.

“Uhm, hi, Sirius. I... I was wondering if Potter was here?”

Sirius’ head reared back slightly as he blinked over at James.

“Uhm...yes? He is.” 

Regulus sighed. “May I speak to him?”

Sirius slowly moved aside and gestured for Regulus to come in.

“Hello Regulus.” James said politely, looking bemusedly at Sirius for a brief moment before standing.

“Potter. My apologies for the...intrusion. But I’m wondering if you’ve seen Y/N.”

Remus’ book fell into his lap as he sat straight in his chair, hands gripping the arm rests. Remus had heard from Sirius (who heard from James) that you and Regulus were quite close. This at least explained why Remus’ friends and yours had never intertwined before.

“No, no. Not since the game, why?”

Regulus sighed again as he grimaced. “She’s not in her dorms. One of her dormmates asked me where she went – apparently, she told them it was important for her to be ‘away from the castle’ for the weekend. I was hoping you knew where she went.”

Remus ran up to the Marauder’s dorm room and accio’d the Marauder’s Map. He scanned the parchment and, sure enough, you were nowhere to be found. He double, triple and quadruple checked to no avail. 

You were nowhere to be found on castle grounds.

Continue to chapter five here.

Taglist: @hanniejji, @y0urm0m12, @c0nsc10usworld, @aphrcdites, @starsval, @thepunisherfrankcastle, @anuncalledbridge, @unstablereader, @rai-strangebr, @klazina-couch-potato, @cancelledkaley, @fandom-crashlanding, @ttulipwritezz, @boo8008, @daisiesformylove, @frostooo, @myriadmoons, @aremuslupinsimp, @simars3, @stargurl99, @dreamingofts18, @iwannabeinthesequalmrghostface, @agent-tempest, @xxrougefangxx, @serenadingtigers, @adhxmoony, @spokenfolk, @hufflepufffangirlqueen, @thebiggestnaturaldisaster, @urmomw4ntsme, @b4tm4nn, @jamieolivia27, @stqrgirlies-blog, @loving-and-dreaming, @cultish-corner

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#marauders era #marauders au #marauders fanfiction #reader insert #self insert #remus lupin imagine #remus lupin drabble #remus lupin fanfiction #remus lupin x reader #remus lupin x you #remus lupin #werewolf mcswearwolf #werewolf soulmate #soulmate au #hp marauders #remus lupin ficlet #remus lupin blurb #werewolf #the lupins #james potter #sirius black #peter pettigrew #lily evans #regulus black

[fluffymaxsworld]

“you were a wonderful experience”

“you were everything”

a/n: just a quick fic to tell y’all i’m aliveee and great and everything. just lazy and i don’t want to write lol. anyways enjoyyy

theodore nott x gryffindor!reader

[i don’t remember if reader was female or gn, angst, no happy ending, i love theodore nott, didn’t proofread bc i’m LAZYY :((]

being with theodore nott was one of the experiences you won’t forget, even if you ended up marrying someone else. he was caring, weirdly sweet to be around, kind and utterly in love with you.

being with theo was something you won’t forget

…

the war is over, the order won, voldemort is dead. and so is the fear, the suffering. finally being happy was the only option, whoever you are. except for theo. how could you, half-blood gryffindor, top of the potion’s class, sweet laugh and stunning smile, how could you come into his life and messing it up so easily? how did you made him so helplessly in love with you?

it’s been two years, yet he still dream about you every night. how are you? did you sleep? eat? did you go out? he hated when you didn’t.

“baby i’m just really tired” you complaint one day.

“i swear to godric if you don’t get up and go with me shopping to let me spoil the ass out of you-”

how pretty were you that day, your eyes sparkled each time you entered different shops. you looked out for a matching jumper, you wanted it red over all, red like gryffindors! he just scoffed though, not capable of complaining. how could he? such a sweet girl he found for himself. until… the war.

being a death eater’s son and a order’s component’s boyfriend was too much, but not being able to satisfy his father was a bigger problem for theo. he tried to reach for you, he tried to call, sending letter, weird letters with a half blind owl, calling ron weasley himself to arrive at your sweet, kind voice. yet the efforts were useless, you didn’t even bother to answer. the hatred that was burning into you, the feeling of betrayal, slowly fade away. day by day you started to not feel anything towards the guy you loved so much.

years of soft talks and sweet giggles completely faded away in a couple of months.

oh hell, it hurt.

but then… the war ended, the death eaters were imprisoned and their son semi-free to go.

it took him five whole days to finally knock at weasley’s messy mansion and ask a tired and surprised ron for you.

“hey theo” you greeted him. you had the face full of cuts but nothing compared to the scar on his lips, tracing the left side of his jaw.

“y/n…” he stared at you, eyes fluttering and his heart pounding, full of joy. he wanted to get on his knees and beg your forgiveness, but deep down he knew that was useless. you moved on, you didn’t cared anymore. he was just another ex.

“take a sit” you smiled, a hint, just the smallest one, of awkwardness in that expression as he sat besides you.

“i missed you” he quickly said without thinking but not taking it back, not until he hear you say that you moved on.

“okay… i did too. for awhile, actually.” you answered in the sweetest tone ever. was a bad habit of yours, talking like that for bad news.

“and then?”

“and then not anymore, theo. you were a wonderful experience.”

“you were… everything”

words flourished out of his mouth, he would’ve cried but the tears weren’t coming down. maybe he already cried too much.

“deep down teddy, i’ll always love you and i’ll never forget you” was the last sentence you exchanged.

he walked away a few minutes later, spending that time in silence and staring one last time into your pupils. the same ones that he loved to see expand during potions because he knew your love for the subject was as big as the love you felt for him.

he then politely waved off hermione and harry and excused himself for the death of ron’s brother, getting redeemed with forgiveness. he smiled one last time and mouthed an ‘i love you’, a sign you never mouthed back to.

#theodore nott x y/n #theodore nott #theodore nott x reader #theodore nott x you #theo nott #theo nott x reader #theo nott x you #theo nott x y/n #slytherin

[saintsenara]

What parts of canon do you find the most frustrating/that you are dissatisfied with/wished that was handled better/explored more? Mine is the inconsistency of Voldemort as a character. How he is described as being perhaps the most talented student that Hogwarts has ever seen and so powerful and intelligent but regularly made such dumb decisions e.g. in the final battle where he still uses Avada Kedavra despite seeing it not work before. I like the explanation that Horcruxes rotted his brain

thank you very much for the ask, @sarafina-sincerity!

the parts of canon which i find the least satisfying all have the same thing in common: their morality is individualist.

the harry potter series has - at its core - a really profound and very black-and-white belief that good and evil not only exist but are rooted in the individual. and while i understand why this is the case - the later books in the series are governed by the genre conventions of folkloric epic and, especially, of christian folkloric epic, which means that the whole seven-book narrative arc ending in a battle between christ and satan after which all is well is only to be expected - i don't like it.

so here we are... ten things i hate about canon, for fanfic writers to win my heart by interrogating in their work...

i hate the series' insistence that everything is fine once voldemort is dead

the middle books in the series - especially goblet of fire - do a really interesting job at hinting at the endemic rot in the ministry of magic, and the ways that the state and its enforcers perpetuated harm during the first war that was indistinct from that perpetuated by the death eaters - above all the use of internment without trial for suspected death eaters [which is a reference to something the british state actually did in the 1970s!].

they show how widespread blood-supremacy and magic-supremacy is, even among people who don't openly support voldemort; how the wizarding population is kept deliberately ignorant by what appears to be state-controlled media; and how no serious efforts have been made to eradicate the conditions which enabled voldemort to attain such power.

this is then forgotten completely in deathly hallows, where the fact that almost the entire civil service keeps working for a government which is committing genocide is hand-waved away with "oh, people are scared", and both the epilogue and jkr's post-series writing take the view that kingsley manages, as minister, to preside over a government which easily sheds all its old prejudices and starts working properly.

i don't like this! i think it's just much more interesting for corruption to be impossible to fully eradicate from the government, for blood-supremacy to have long-standing causes which actually take a lot of very hard work to untangled [especially the fact that the wizarding world not appearing to have a welfare state means that those whose lives are poor or unstable are prime targets for radicalisation], and for kingsley to have the same capacity for leaning on the prophet and worrying about his polling numbers as any other politician...

i hate that the series changes how the death eaters are written between half-blood prince and deathly hallows

connected to this shift from the series hinting at the broader issues in the wizarding world to a flat battle between good and evil is that the death eaters, their aims, and their modus operandi are written very different between half-blood prince and deathly hallows. in the former, the death eaters can be situated very easily as anti-state sectarian terrorists who have all sorts of complex analogies within british history and politics. in the latter, they're just caricatures of pure evil - which is why the death eaters introduced from the latter stages of half-blood prince onwards, especially the carrows, are considerably less interesting as characters than those, such as lucius malfoy, barty crouch jr. and bellatrix lestrange, who are introduced earlier.

it's also why the voldemort of deathly hallows feels so uninteresting. i don't like the fanon that the horcruxes render him insane at all - when he's shown outside of the epic battle between good and evil in that book, he's shown to be as lucid and cunning as always - but he ends up having to flop because his only purpose in the overarching narrative is to be killed. in the earlier books, in which he's a paramilitary kingpin poisoning and corrupting a society which was designed to exclude him because of the fact of his birth in revenge for its treatment of him, rather than satan and hitler's lovechild, he is so much more interesting.

i hate the series' belief that slavery is fine

obviously, one of the biggest examples of state malevolence in the series is that wizards own slaves. like many readers, i loathe that the house elf plotline ends up being reduced from its potential for radicalism in chamber of secrets - in which dobby mentions whisper-networks of elves who decry their treatment at wizards' hands - to what we see from goblet of fire onwards - in which elves love being enslaved and think that any attempts to free them from their subjugation is cruel.

i also hate that elves' freedom is then hand-waved away as part of the general race towards "all was well" with the implication that hermione found it easy to undo what appears to be centuries of state-sanctioned oppression without any pushback at all.

the house elf plotline is one of the clearest distillations of the series' individualistic morality. harry abhors the treatment of dobby at the malfoys' hands entirely and only because he doesn't like the malfoys. he abhors voldemort's treatment of kreacher, but sees absolutely no issue with sirius' because he likes sirius - and he clearly sees no issue at all with his own legal mastery of kreacher, seeing as, literally minutes after the end of a war in which the good guys fought for the rights of muggles and muggleborns to be seen as fully human... he is considering ordering his slave to make him a sandwich.

i hate that the series doesn't show the realities of resistance

the reason i think the whole "why does voldemort keep using avada kedavra, isn't he supposed to be clever?" question arises is because the series is incredibly resistant to the idea that the good guys must have to kill as well, which makes it look like it's only the death eaters using it while the order use lots of clever magic that the stupid terrorists are too thick to think of.

this is idiotic - not only because the killing curse is canonically flawless unless the thing you're blasting is your own horcrux and so the order would use it for efficiency's sake alone, but because the reality of being a resistance fighter is that, even if you're on the "right" side, you are going to have kill people or they will kill you.

lupin is completely right in deathly hallows that harry is breathtakingly naive to avoid shooting to kill and that - without the protection of genre conventions allowing him to be preternaturally merciful - his resistance to killing is going to result in him being destroyed by the enemy. it is inconceivable that the rest of the order don't using the killing curse - and the question of what this does to their souls [is it murder if you believe yourself to be justified in your actions?] and their senses of self post-war is so interesting to think about - and i wish we were shown this in the text.

especially because molly absolutely blasted bellatrix with it.

but i also hate that the series thinks that violence is fine when the good guys do it

this is primarily another example of the black-and-white "this is fine because harry's good" theme which runs through the series, which we see in things like harry using sectumsempra on draco malfoy in half-blood prince or the cruciatus curse on amycus carrow in deathly hallows. harry's overarching response to committing attempted murder is to sulk that the incredibly minor punishment he receives is reducing the time he could spend hitting on ginny, and his response to torturing amycus is "lol. lmao."

the series thinks - again and again - that cruelty and violence are completely fine when the person they are perpetuated against "deserves" it, and it does not bang.

and that the series allows the good guys more complexity in characterisation

the role played by the house system in the story - and, above all, the fact that our heroes are all connected to one particular house with straightforwardly admirable associated characteristics - means that the villains receive less opportunity to also have positive traits intermingled with their negative ones - and, therefore, complex and interesting personalities.

i also dislike that when non-gryffindor characters - especially slytherins - do reveal themselves to be brave and loyal etc., instead of recognising that this is because bravery can be multi-faceted the series suggests that they should be recategorised as "belonging" to a "good" house.

or, in other words, me and dumbledore's "i think we sort too soon" line in deathly hallows are enemies for life.

i hate that the series blames merope gaunt for dying

and - of course - the main way a villain isn't allowed as much complexity as a hero is that the series never examines the impact of voldemort's childhood on his adult self. while we see hints throughout canon of just how profoundly affected he is by his institutionalised childhood and the weight of his grief over his parents [his mother especially] - such as him learning as a baby never to cry for attention because it's futile - this is hand-waved away throughout the series by dumbledore-as-the-voice-of-god as irrelevant. the eleven-year-old tom riddle is straightforwardly evil, that he grows up in an orphanage is used as nothing more than narrative colour to underline how creepy he is, and dumbledore's spectacular mishandling of their relationship is viewed by the series as undeniably correct right up to the very last moment [when harry imitates dumbledore by - and we should call it what it is - deadnaming voldemort in their final confrontation].

but the most egregious thing that dumbledore does when discussing the course voldemort's life takes is blame merope gaunt for her own death in childbirth, by implying that witches are immune to one of the most common causes of death throughout human history if they just try hard enough and then saying that a nineteen-year-old girl whose life appears to have been nothing more than unrelenting abuse and misery [perpetuated both against her and by her] lacked the moral fibre to try hard enough.

and this infuriates me.

i hate how the series treats female characters who don't fit its narrow spectrum of "correct" womanhood

merope is but one victim of the series' general issues with treating women who aren't its heroes - all of whom are exactly feminine and beautiful and clever and talented enough that we know they're good people, but not any of these things in an extreme which could make them vapid or arrogant or defiant of social norms or so on.

the series takes a very low view of women who exist outside of narrow boxes - whether they are interested in a hyper-feminine aesthetic [lavender brown, rita skeeter] or a more masculine one [marge dursley]; conform to stereotypes about being bitchy, flighty, or vapid [pansy parkinson, romilda vane] or refuse to adhere to social expectations to be polite, meek, and demure [fleur delacour]; are unmarried, are not inherently maternal, and/or are cruel to children [bellatrix lestrange; petunia dursley; dolores umbridge]; are unrestrained emotionally [cho chang; moaning myrtle] and so on. and i don't like it.

and i also hate that - connected to this - the series uses physical appearance - especially weight - as a shorthand for [female] characters we're supposed to dislike.

what it says on the tin, really - if the series doesn't like a character, especially if the character is a woman, you can almost guarantee that they will either be fat or be unusually thin.

and finally...

i hate that the series prioritises one form of love - love as suffering and as sacrifice - over all others

part of the series' march towards the epic two-person showdown between good and evil is that harry is made to endure trial after trial - including his death for the salvation of mankind - in the name of love. obviously this is because he becomes, by the end of deathly hallows an allegory for christ, but it also fits into the series' view - articulated most frequently by dumbledore - that love, suffering, and sacrifice are all synonyms.

the acts of love the series foregrounds - snape's willingness to endure anything because of his love for lily; sirius' willingness to rot in azkaban and caves and grimmauld place because of his love for james and harry; harry giving up a love that's like "someone else's life" with ginny so he can go die - are all sacrificial, and the series generally takes a dull view of love that is fluffy, silly, carnal, selfish, soothing, transformational and so on. lavender and bellatrix's open adoration of their lovers is mocked; dumbledore's sexual desire for grindelwald is punished by his sister's death; tonks and lupin's uncomplicated happiness in the birth of their son is not to last.

but happy endings and silly jokes and forehead kisses are love too. and the hill i will die on is that they have even more potential to bring about the salvation of the world than constant suffering and abiding.

#asks answered #asenora on canon

[ryehoneyinkstains]

What Echoes Around Us

Severus Snape x Reader

Voldemort is dead.

You saw it with your own eyes, watched as Harry Potter killed the Dark Lord. No one cheered, no one said a word. The courtyard was eerily silent, as if no one could believe it. There was adrenaline still running through your body, made your ears ring, your hold on your wand so tight you feared you would break it in half.

Then someone spoke, and all around you voices whispered and murmured. Your heart is racing so fast, you can barely breathe and you're trembling in your spot, frozen. There's a body laying dangerously close to you, and you don't know if they're dead or unconscious. You don't bend down and check, not because you don't care, but because you're absolutely terrified.

It starts to really sink in, the reality of the situation, and there's a heavy weight that comes with it. The grip on your wand loosens just a fraction. You want to throw up, want to sit down and close your eyes and try to make sense of the world. Instead, you take a step forward, your muscles moving on their own. There's another step, and another, and suddenly you’re running. You’re trying to be mindful of the people around you, know that they're suffering as much as you are, that there are children who have just witnessed the deaths of their friends, their family, the one's they loved. But you aren't thinking straight, aren't thinking at all. Even as you scan the faces, force your eyes to look to the ground where so many people lay unmoving, your brain is working too fast for you to follow it. It's like your body is in autopilot, your mind in overdrive.

You can feel yourself crying, can't seem to figure out why. Then your eyes land on a man, curled against a crumbling wall and you stop running. He's got hair the color of an oil slick, blood coating his hand and your breath hitches. For a second there you thought you saw Severus. But it’s not, He's too young, his hair is too short, his skin is a little darker.

For a second, your heart almost stopped beating. You force yourself to care about the injured man in front of you, even though every single nerve in your body is telling you that you need to find Severus Snape right now. That you need to see him with your eyes, make sure that he wasn't dead, another body on the ground. The tears cloud your vision as you say something to the boy, as you bite your tongue so hard you start to taste blood.

He holds his hand up, stopping you in your track. "It's not my blood." he says in a strangled voice. It's cruel of you, but you run off, leave him sitting there, covered in someone else's blood, possibly traumatized. You've finally caught up with your mind, can finally feel your body as you stumble through castle debris, climb over fallen stones, and push through the crowds of people. Your mind is focused on one thing and one thing only: finding Severus Snape.

You search frantically, calling out his name, scanning the faces of the injured and the dead. Every time you think you've found him, your heart races with hope, only to be crushed when you realize it's not him. You can feel yourself getting more and more desperate, your heart heavy with the fear that he may not have made it through the final battle. There's a new weight on your heart, one that makes you feel like you’re running in slow motion, like the world is pushing itself against you as you move.

You can't breathe again, but still you push forward. You search every hall, every room, and even though death follows you everywhere, you still can’t find him. You have to, have to know that he made it, that he's somewhere out. That he's safe. That he's alive. Because you have no idea what you'd do without him. How can you live your life without him in it?

You find yourself in the infirmary, panting as you come to a stop. There are so many children, so many people crammed into the small space, it's hard to see who's who. You move through the crowd, your eyes scanning every face, every body, in search of him. Terrified that if you don't find him here you will have to search the room they've started taking the dead.

But you spot him sitting on a cot, bandages around his neck, blood coating his clothes, his cheek. Your legs feel like they've been hit with the Locomotor Curse and you almost collapse. You let out a painful sob, one full of relief and gratitude.

"Severus!" you shout, voice trembling. You don't care that you're disturbing people, don't care that they've turned to stare at you. All you focus on is the way Severus' head shoots up, his eyes locking with yours. He looks just as relieved as you feel, and before you know it, you're running towards him, your feet barely hitting the ground. You throw yourself at him, your arms wrapping tightly around him, tears streaming down your face. He's alive, he's safe, and nothing else matters in that moment.

You're a sobbing mess as you hold him, your face against his chest as you cry and cry and keep saying his name, voice shaky and full of emotion. You squeeze his harder and he hisses in pain.

You let go of him, pull back to look at him. There's fresh blood on his bandages and this time you're crying because you've hurt him.

"I'm sorry!" you cry out, voice choking on the words. "I didn't mean to hurt you."

Severus grunts, pulling you back into an embrace, wants to feel you against him again. "Don't" he forces out, the pain of talking excruciating. He doesn't care though, finds some sort of twisted joy in it because it makes this moment real. You're truly here, alive. Your here with him, in his arms and that's all that matters. You’re clinging to him, your sobs slowing down to hiccupping breaths. He has his hand tangled in your hair, holding you against him. His head is pressed against yours.

He had been so scared that something had happened to you, that you were dead somewhere in this castle. He had been ready to search for you, to burn down the world if you left him in this place alone. But your alive and safe, and he's holding you in his trembling arms. He never wants to let you go, never wants to be without you by his side.

"Marry me." he whispers in your ear, his voice strained.

You shift, try to pull back but he holds you there, against his beating chest. "I cannot fathom a single day without you by my side." he adds, his fingers caressing the back of your head.

You're in shock, your heart is pounding in your chest. You never expected this, not now, not here. But you know without a doubt that you want to spend the rest of your life with him. "Yes," you whisper, your voice barely audible. "Yes, I'll marry you."

Severus grunts once more, his lips finding your neck. The weight of everything that has happened and everything that is yet to come is overwhelming, but in this moment, all that matters is that you're together, and nothing will ever change that.

#drabble #fanfic #harry potter #severus snape #severus x oc #severus x reader #severus snape x reader #snape content #snapedom #snape x reader #snape x y/n #severus x you

[remusluvr]

heart to heart | james potter

summary: James is your safe haven, he accepts you with open arms. content: secret relationship, brief talk of death (like one sentence), unedited

Time had frozen when you were told. This was the one thing you had been trying to avoid for as long as possible. It's unavoidable now.

"It's time you step up and do something for once," your mother berated, "There's a meeting in an hour. You will be expected to make your decision then. Do not embarrass me."

Fear flowed through your veins after she left the room. There was only one way out of this messy situation - your bedroom window. And so, knowing exactly who to go to, you quickly packed a bag and left. You ran as far as you could before apparating to Diagon Alley where you would be able to find a floo transport to get to your destination.

Your fist pounded against the old door as you looked behind you as each second ticked along. What if they knew where you were going? What if it was a trap to see what you would do? What if they are after you? Raising your fist to knock again, the door opens to a confused James Potter.

"Jamie," you sighed, tears welling in your eyes now as you push yourself into his arms. You can feel his beating heart as he pulls you into his house. He kept you held to his chest as you calmed your breathing. You were safe.

"Can you tell me what happened, sweetheart?" he asked, taking extra attention to make sure his voice was calm. He didn't want to scare you. Sirius came trotting down the stairs, watching the interaction between you and the other Gryffindor boy.

"What the fuck? When did this start?" is all he says as he stops at the end of the staircase. James waves him off, turning his attention back to you. His eyes held so much love that you just wish you'd never have to interrupt your staring with such a heavy topic.

"They tried to make me become a death eater," you sniffled, lip wobbling. He pulled you back into his chest, holding you tight against him. Sirius gasped, excusing himself. He can get whatever answers he's looking for later. Right now you clearly need James to yourself. "I can't go back there, Jamie. I can't."

"You won't, baby. I'm not going to let you."

Your heart is racing when you pull away, wiping at your tear-stained cheeks. He doesn't let you go far, keeping your hand in his. When his mom comes into the room, you straighten up and quiet down.

"I know Sirius is listening at the top of the stairs. He can show you my room, let me talk with my mom." You hear Sirius grunt and can't help but giggle, hugging James one last time before grabbing your bag and heading upstairs. You and Sirius have never gotten along, not when you have been living very precariously, trying not to anger your family. He went the different route, going out of his way to anger them.

He gives you a half-hearted smile when you reach him and you want to apologize for all the mean remarks you spit his way. You both understand though, you were in the same situation.

When James returns to his room, around thirty minutes later, he crashes down on the bed beside you, kicking Sirius out. He had stayed to keep you company, still a little too nervous to be left alone.

"I'm sorry for barging in. I just had nowhere else to go."

"Please don't apologize, I'm glad you're here. You know that I worry when you're home. Now, I don't have to worry."

"Yeah, until we're back in school and all of my housemates want me dead." He frowns at that. James is always optimistic but he knows that you're right. They're not going to take your denouncement of Voldemort well and there will be consequences but he promises to never leave your side and that you can sleep in his dorm all you want if that's what it takes.

His kindness makes your heart ache and at the news of you being allowed to stay here, it only aches more for his family. Why couldn't your own family be this way?

"Only thing is that you have to sleep in one of the guest rooms," he sighs, rolling his eyes. You giggle as he pulls you to lay with him. "Good thing we can be sneaky."

#marauders era angst #fluff #angst #marauders #harry potter #marauders era #james potter requests #james potter #james potter fluff #james potter angst #james potter x reader #james potter x reader angst #james potter x reader fluff #james potter x you #james potter x you angst #james potter x you fluff #james potter x y/n #james potter x y/n fluff #james potter x y/n angst #marauders era fluff #marauders angst #marauders fluff #marauder #harry potter fluff #harry potter angst #harry potter fanfiction #marauders era fanfiction #marauders era fanfic

[heliads]

hi!! Can I request Harry Potter x f!reader, where Harry and y/n are dating and during the battle reader gets severely injured almost dead by Voldemort and Harry doesn’t know until after he defeats him he goes looking for reader but can’t find her, getting scared he goes looking for her and finds her under a pile of rubble realizing she’s about to die he uses the resurrection stone or wand to bring her back to life/heal her. Sorry if it’s really I’ve never requested before!

just read manacled so i'm desperately craving to write some hp angst so this request was perfectly timed thx anon xoxo

'someone take me home ' - harry potter

masterlist

The air is dark, choked with the ash and smoke of Harry Potter’s only true home.

Although he is not the one setting fire to the turrets, sending trolls in to demolish the stone parapets, or hurling curses through glass windows, Harry still feels responsible for the destruction. He is the one who challenged Voldemort by trying to hunt down his Horcruxes. He is the one who has brought this needless death and destruction into the castle. When Voldemort made his pronouncement that all of this fighting could cease if they would only turn Harry over to the Death Eaters, Harry had felt the weight of that guilt settle onto his shoulders like a cloak. It is his doing, all of this. He is the one to blame.

The only way he can make up for it is to end this, once and for all. If he does not kill Voldemort tonight– if he cannot end this war quickly– every life lost, every shred of memory and pride lost in the broken castle’s rubble will have fallen because he could not get the job done. Harry is responsible for everything that happens here tonight. He has to be responsible for winning it, too.

Harry is close to the end. So close. He has already died once tonight. He does not want it to happen again. For a moment there, when he went into the woods alone to meet his soon-to-be killer, armed only with a wand, a wish, and a deeply seated terror that would not leave him, Harry had not thought that he would come back. Dumbledore had not had the chance to specify that in his memories, that Harry would survive the Avada Kedavra curse for the second time in his life.

Harry had not known at all. Through Snape’s memories, he had seen that he would have to die for Voldemort to be killed, but there was no guarantee that Harry would come back. When Harry came away from the Pensieve burdened with that terrible truth, he had assumed that the blinding flash of green light would be all. When he said goodbye to Ron and Hermione, he had left them thinking that he would never return. Walking away from them was horrible, the price of seven years’ worth of incredible friendship. The only thing worse than that was leaving Y/N.

Y/N L/N. Harry’s girlfriend. They started dating during their fifth year, coasting on the thrill of sneaking around behind Umbridge’s back to run the DA. He’d liked her for longer, of course, he swears half the boys his year had a crush on Y/N at least since their second winter at Hogwarts, but Harry was the one who got to keep her around. He never forgot how lucky that made him. And, leaving her behind in the ruins of Hogwarts Castle to end his life, Harry reminded himself of it then, too. Even if he was going to die, he had lived a properly good life before the moment the Killing Curse was spoken aloud. He should have no reason to mourn all of the moments he would never have when he already experienced and enjoyed so many.

To distract himself in those cold, empty woods, Harry had reached into his pocket for the small, dark stone left to him by Dumbledore in the shell of a Golden Snitch. It’s probably not wise to carry a Deathly Hallow through the Forbidden Forest in search of a Dark Lord, but Harry was, after all, headed towards his certain death, so he figured that a little bit of risk was acceptable under those circumstances. Turning the Resurrection Stone over in his pocket, Harry had let his eyes flicker closed as he thought of something– as he wished for it, more than anything, more even than he needed to be alive– and then his eyes had opened, and he had seen his parents.

His first thought was that they looked just like their photographs. They smiled at him, reaching out wispy hands to guide him onwards. Remus and Sirius had joined not soon after. It was easier to be brave when he wasn’t alone, and it must have just been his mind imagining it, because he swore that just before he emerged into the clearing containing Voldemort’s camp, Harry saw Y/N there too, smiling and calling out to him.

He just wanted to think of her one last time, that was all. It meant nothing. Y/N was alive with Ron and Hermione. The one-hour truce had probably ended by then, so they would all be fighting again, but his two best friends would keep the love of his life alive. Of course they would. He made them promise.

Harry had removed that worry from his mind, and then he had died and subsequently come back to life. When he was lying on the cold ground, when Narcissa Malfoy had bent over him and asked him as quietly as she dared if her son was still alive, Harry has to admit that he was not thinking about the good of the mission to kill Voldemort, nor how he could keep up that crusade if he stayed alive. No, he thought about seeing Y/N one more time, and so he told her that Draco was still living. Harry didn’t even know if it was a lie or not, it didn’t matter, it worked. It could be true. Harry had no way of telling if Draco had passed away. All he could do was survive, clawing inch by inch until he could make it back to the grounds of the castle and tell for certain who was dead and who was alive.

The ruse, however misguided, had worked, and then Voldemort had crowed with sickly joy and dragged Harry’s body back to the castle. Harry was forced to remain stock-still, terrified to move so much as a muscle lest he give himself away and incur a second Killing Curse.

Now he is back, back here, back in the present moment, back in the castle. Harry is alive and everybody knows it. Harry heard the cheers erupt when he flung himself away from Hagrid to stand opposite Voldemort again, but he dared not look back. One distracted glance gives Tom Riddle a chance to kill him, and Harry cannot– he will not– give himself away like that after everything. His friends need him. Y/N needs him. Harry must do this, he must win.

Harry is no stranger to dueling, both with friends and enemies. When Voldemort points the Elder Wand at Harry, the wand that technically is under Harry’s control, Harry feels the moment thrumming in his veins like a bloodlust even before his opponent casts the spell. His wand hand rises of his own volition, the spell rising to his lips by reflex alone.

Two incantations are chanted at the same time. Avada Kedavra, Voldemort shrieks across the dusty courtyard, his voice like a death rattle. Expelliarmus, Harry shouts back, his heart leaping into his chest. He has never meant a spell like this before, and he swears he never will.

For a moment, all is still, all is quiet. The Death Eaters and students alike watch with bated breath as the two spells arc across the courtyard, but then Voldemort’s bright spark of green rebounds the second it comes into contact with Harry’s, sending both tumbling towards the Dark Lord. The Killing Curse hits Voldemort, and just like that, with no pomp and circumstance, no drama befitting the one who has caused them all so much violence and grief, Tom Marvolo Riddle dies.

Harry doesn’t believe it. Truly, he doesn’t, until he forces his limbs to walk over to the body of Voldemort and stand, staring, at the corpse until he is certain it does not move again. Slowly, surely, the Death Eaters peel away, and the students and members of the Order of the Phoenix come back again, surging around him like an ocean wave, rejoicing in their victory.

Ron and Hermione reach him first, one at each side. They embrace him, half crying, half beaming. Hermione’s saying that he’s done it, he’s won, and Ron is grinning at him proudly, telling Harry that he knew he could do it. Harry waits for the fourth person to join their party, but for some reason, she never does.

Harry pulls back slightly from their embrace. “Guys,” he says uncertainly, “Where’s Y/N?”

Ron and Hermione exchange confused looks. “She was just here,” Ron says vacantly. “Wasn’t she, Hermione? I swear I saw her a minute ago. We were fighting together, then a bunch of Death Eaters split us up. I got back to Hermione as soon as I could, but–”

“But you didn’t see her?” Harry interrupts. His voice sounds harsher than he intends, but a sudden, icy panic is beginning to flood through his system, and he cannot think about anything– he will not think about anything– until he is certain that this fear is unfounded.

He looks desperately at Hermione, the reasonable one, the one who always comes up with answers in times of crisis like this one, but she shakes her head quietly. “None of us have seen her since the fighting started up again,” she whispers. “I’m sorry, Harry.”

“No,” he says forcefully, “No, that’s not right. Y/N is alive. We just lost her in the crowd, that’s all.”

It must be true. Harry won’t look at either of them, won’t see the slow rush of guilt that’s creeping into both of their faces. Y/N has to be here. She wouldn’t just leave him like this.

Harry pushes past the two of them, fighting his way back through the crowds. He scans every face he sees, ignoring friends and professors the moment he’s sure they aren’t her. When he doesn’t see her immediately, Harry looks not at the crowds but the grounds, the walls, to see if she’s lying down somewhere. She could still be resting, or maybe she has a broken leg or something and can’t move. There is still a way that she could be alive. There is still a way that she could come back to him.

No sign of her. Harry is about to leave the courtyard and try searching somewhere else, and then he sees a hand crumpled near a pile of rubble. The hand, bloody and streaked with dust, is connected to an arm, an arm which lies limp from a shoulder, which leads to a chest which leads to a face, a face he knows, a face which is Y/N’s.

Harry is kneeling on the ground in a flash. The body of a fallen Death Eater is somewhere to the side, and Harry has the brief, proud thought that Y/N managed to kill one of them before she– He cuts himself off just in time.

Y/N seems perfectly fine by all accounts, were it not for the ash beginning to tint her face a lifeless shade. It gets everywhere, that stuff, but it won’t matter, they’ll have time to clean up later, once it is all over. It is all over, he realizes belatedly, but not quite yet. Not until she sits up again and smiles at him like she always does.

Harry waits for this to happen, for her chest to rise and fall, for any sign of movement. Nothing comes. It is only sitting here, waiting, watching for nothing, when he realizes at last that Y/N is dead. He missed his chance to save her. Y/N is dead because Harry couldn’t beat Voldemort fast enough.

The grief crashes over him in spasming attacks. He cannot lose her, not like this. It was easier to be the one dying when he knew she would go on to live a long, happy life, but this is wholly different and much worse. Y/N deserved far more than a death at seventeen. She deserved far more than Harry letting her down in this final way.

He can’t allow this to happen. Harry has killed the Dark Lord, he has freed the Wizarding World from death and destruction, he will save his girlfriend and it will be his last victory. Harry claws at his pocket for the Resurrection Stone– he almost lost it in the Forbidden Forest, but not quite, and now he has it still– and presses it with shaking hands against her heart. Harry closes his eyes and wishes with everything he has that she would come back.

He doesn’t want to open his eyelids. If it doesn’t work– he can’t look at her again, fallen and still. He stays in the darkness until someone tells him in a light voice, “You can look now, Harry. I’m alright.”

Harry opens his eyes and almost sobs again. There, sitting up, is Y/N. She smiles at him. “Don’t look so surprised. You know what the stone does, don’t you?”

“I do,” he croaks, “but– I was so afraid, Y/N. I can’t lose you.”

“You won’t have to,” she whispers back. “We’ll always be together now.”

He wants this. Harry reaches forward and embraces her. He can hardly feel her hug him back, but she’s probably still injured from the fight. She’ll have to get up to the hospital wing as soon as possible, Madam Pomfrey can make her as good as new in a second’s flash.

Harry steps back so Y/N can stand up, and then he starts to lead her back through the courtyard. Ron and Hermione have caught up to him by now, and they stare at Y/N with undisguised shock.

“She’s back,” Harry says exultantly, as if they couldn’t tell that already.

Hermione nods faintly. “Harry…”

Her voice trails off. Ron lays a comforting hand on her arm, then turns to Harry. “You found her, then?” 

For some reason, he doesn’t seem nearly as happy as Harry thinks the situation deserves. He’s just found out one of his best friends is alive, after all, but instead he seems as if he’s just come from a funeral.

“I did,” Harry confirms. “I’m going to take Y/N to the hospital wing now, just in case.”

Y/N nods in agreement, which makes Ron and Hermione exchange knowing glances again.

“What?” Harry asks, somewhat cross.

“Nothing,” Hermione says a little too quickly. “It’s just– Oh, Harry, you have the Resurrection Stone, don’t you?”

“Yeah,” Harry says. “Why do you ask?”

The look in her eyes is deeply sorrowful. “You have to let go, Harry.”

He shakes his head. “What are you talking about? I just got Y/N back, I have to make sure that she’s alright.”

He moves to brush past them, but Ron holds out an arm. “Here, I’ll take Y/N to the hospital wing. How about you stay and talk to Hermione for a little longer?”

Y/N looks unhappy about this, and although Harry doesn’t quite want to be parted from her yet, he can’t technically see any problems with this, so he agrees, and watches mournfully as Y/N trails away behind Ron. She’s moving slower than usual, but again, that must be due to injury.

Hermione takes him by the arm and steers him away from the quickly burgeoning crowds. “Harry,” she begins slowly, “Do you remember what Xenophilius Lovegood said about the Deathly Hallows, about the Stone in particular? How it drove the second brother mad because his bride came back from the dead, but she was never really the same?”

“I do,” Harry says vaguely, not entirely sure what this has to do with him, “But that’s not the case with Y/N, though, she’s fine. I reckon it’s because I have the Elder Wand too, you know?”

Hermione sighs. “Harry, that’s not the Y/N you lost. She’s different. I think she’s closer to a ghost than a person.”

“No,” Harry says unsteadily, “She’s just like I remember, honestly. I don’t know what you’re talking about. She’s nothing like a ghost.”

Hermione takes a slow breath in and out. She’s obviously fighting tears. “That’s because she hasn’t been herself lately, even before she– even before she died, Harry. The war has been hard on all of us, but her especially. It’s taken quite the toll on her, so much so that you would see a ghost of the girl you knew and still think it was her.”

“That makes no sense,” Harry protests, but a persistent feeling of doubt is starting to shadow his mind.

“I can prove it,” Hermione insists, and reaches into her pocket to pull out a photograph.

Harry holds it in his hands and stares. He remembers the moment this photo was taken more than he recognizes the actual people inside of it. This was one of the last days they had to themselves before the war broke out in earnest and everything went to hell. It had been in the spring, all four of them in the Gryffindor Common Room. Colin Creevey had taken the photo while they were unawares and to punish him, they’d confiscated it. Harry had no idea Hermione had held onto it, but now he’s pressingly grateful that she had.

Harry, Ron, and Hermione all look the same, albeit a little younger, a little less beaten down, but Y/N– the Y/N in this photograph is nothing like the girl he’d just seen. This Y/N is vibrant, laughing uproariously at a joke one of them has just told. The version of her in the photograph turns with a start when the photo is taken, but she’s still grinning up at him, still happy. Harry feels as if a saturation charm has been cast upon the photo, it’s the only thing that would explain why she looks so bright and alive here.

Alive, unlike how she looks right now, because she isn’t. Harry had tried to bring her back, but it hadn’t worked completely. Just like in Lovegood’s story. He thinks back to the past few months and he remembers how Y/N had been, how the light had slowly drained from her. The constant running had been hard on all of them, but it was worst of all on Y/N. She was the one forever thinking of new places to go, new things to try, wearing the locket for the longest, never putting up a fight. Slowly but surely, it had coaxed the life out of her, so much so that Harry couldn’t even tell when she was just a shade he had brought back from the dead.

Hermione nods slowly, seeing that Harry understands at last. “I’m sorry, Harry. I’m so sorry.”

“So am I,” he murmurs bleakly.

“Are you going to end the enchantment?” She asks him.

Harry feels like he’s drowning, engulfed in the ash and flame surrounding him. “I will. Just– let me say goodbye first.”

“Of course,” Hermione says. “We’ll be here when you need us.”

It’s more than he can ask of her right now, both to pull him out and to support him when he’s reeling from the shock of it all. They must be devastated too, Hermione and Ron, both of them have friends here who have died in this final battle and throughout the whole war, but they’re putting him first again. He’ll never be able to thank them enough for that, but he can try.

An idea occurs to him as he walks over to Y/N. He’s still got the Elder Wand in his pocket. He hadn’t needed it for the Resurrection Stone, he hadn’t even been touching it, but maybe– just maybe–

He casts a quick summoning charm to bring his invisibility cloak over, then pulls the Resurrection Stone out of his pocket. The Elder Wand in his other hand completes the triad. All three Deathly Hallows, all together at last. Dumbledore had wondered what having all of them together might do, how one might finally become a Master of Death. He had mused once that perhaps one had to accept the inevitability of one’s own death, to brush it off and greet Death as an old friend, as the third brother had done in the tale.

Harry has done this already. Died. He accepted it then. Facing Y/N, he accepts it now. He may die from doing this, but it would be alright. Y/N deserves to live. Harry embraces his fate, whatever it may be. He has the Hallows, but he would give them up for her, he would give up anything. Even himself. He has not meant a spell like this before, except once, and he swears he never will.

There’s a sudden rush of wind around him that forces Harry’s eyes shut, just for a moment. When he opens them, Y/N is still there, but she’s a shade no longer. This time, when she surges forward and hugs him, he feels the embrace completely. 

“It’s really me,” she laughs, shocked, “I don’t know how you did it, Harry, but I’m really back.”

“You promise?” Harry gasps, half choking on his own surprise.

“I promise,” she smiles.

Harry glances back over his shoulder to where Hermione and Ron are watching with dropped jaws. One look at his friends is all he needs to know at last that yes, this is real. He’s finally won. The Dark Lord is dead. His love is alive.

At last, at long last, the last of his burdens disappear into the faint light of morning. Harry Potter is free.

harry potter tag list: @rogueanschel, @cameronsails, @neewtmas, @lovesanimals0000, @with-inked-solace, @sher-lokid7, @eclliipsed, @frenchgirlinlondon, @23victoria, @ilovexavierthrope

all tags list: @wordsarelife

#harry potter #harry potter imagines #harry potter x reader #harry potter oneshot #harry james potter #harry james potter imagines #harry james potter x reader #harry james potter oneshot #hp #hp imagines #hp x reader #hp oneshot #harry potter fanfic #harry james potter fanfic

[aethon-recs]

Tomarrymort Dead Dove Recs, Part 2 🕊️

Thank you all for the wonderful reception to Part 1 of Tomarrymort Dead Dove recs! I was honestly blown away by the interest in this first list featuring Non-Con/Dub-Con recs. It was so incredibly heartening to see that the open-mindedness towards the taboo, the degenerate, the ‘problematic’ is not only alive and well, but thriving, in this ship, when it seems like it’s been reviled and sanitized out of other ships and communities and spaces within this fandom and elsewhere. But Tomarrymort readers seem to be a special breed 🤝 and I’m just so glad we can all be horny sickos together 🤍

For Part 2 of the Dead Dove rec list, the first half is comprised of incest fics, and the second half is chan (underage) fics. These aren’t all necessarily dark fic in terms of tone or plot (some fics are actually quite cozy); the dead dove label just serves as an indicator to take the tags seriously.

Please note there is potentially triggering and disturbing content in the rec list below (including in some of the summaries), so I will be placing all 25 of these recs below the cut. Keep in mind don’t like; don’t read, so feel free to scroll on by if either incest and/or chan is not a theme you would like to explore.

This list was made in collaboration with @danpuff-ao3’s Dead Dove Diaries Series. Check it out for other HP dead dove recs!

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Tomarrymort Incest Recs

Fruit of the Forbidden Tree (part 1) / Forbidden Indulgence (part 2) / Forbidden Darkness (part 3) by @neurowriter14 (E, 19k, complete)

The true parentage of Harry Potter was unknown to everyone except for three people. None remain, but another figures it out.

Hold Me Down (Fuck Me Up) by @itsevanffs (E, 15k, WIP)

Tom Riddle, chief of police, first met his nephew Harry Potter handcuffed to his desk, lip cut and knuckles bleeding, a proud smile on his lips and challenge in his eyes.

I Could Send You to Hell, I Know You by @dividawrites (E, 7k, complete)

Nothing about Harry Potter intrigues Tom—he's average in everything, doesn't act out in class, doesn't do very much at all, in fact. When he finds out they're related, though, this changes at once. After all, there's something to be said for family traditions.

In The Dark by @itsevanffs (E, 64k, WIP)

Harry's mother remarries shortly after his father's death to James' half-brother, Thomas, much to Harry's confusion and disgust. First a duke, now a king, it seems that nothing will stand in his uncle's way when it comes to getting what he wants. Not Lily, not propriety, and most certainly not Harry himself.

Infinite by @duplicitywrites (E, 8k, complete)

Harry and his twin brother Tom have the same mark. The same soulmate. Whoever their soulmate is, wherever they may be, they will go to Tom. Tom, however, has other plans.

Little Bits by @lordmarvoloriddle (E, 10k, complete) 

Inspired by Cinderella. Only there's no prince, and surely no one is singing about their feelings, and Harry's life could be a lot worse than having three step-brothers and a father who didn't like him. He's going to be proven right.

Plains of oblivion by @milkandmoon-ao3 (E, 3k, complete) 

Trapped in the past with no way home, a disillusioned Harry executes a plan to make an ally of the rising Dark Lord and reshape history.

Say It Right (part 1) /  Say You'll Haunt Me (part 2) by @rightonthelimitt (E, 32k, complete)

After James Potter dies, his wife and son have it rough. Their lives change for good when they meet Tom Riddle four years later, but is it for the better?

Seventeen Years by RenderedReversed (T, 10k, complete)

Voldemort is a day old when he realizes he’s been reborn to muggle parents and that he has a twin brother. He is a year old when it sinks in who his twin could possibly be. Because his twin might, possibly, probably be Harry Potter.

Summer Break by anon (E, 5k, WIP) 

A story of a brother's love and duty and terrible obsession.

the dark passenger by @cindle-writes (E, 5k, complete)

Harry had lived 17 years as a horcrux, and Ginny was possessed by another one, so is it all that surprising that their middle child reminds them a little bit too much of another boy they once knew?

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Tomarrymort Chan (Underage) Recs

Below Stairs by pauraque (E, 1k, complete)

Harry receives a visitor.

conversationalist by worn (E, 3k, complete)

As a boy who's known silence and solitude well, Harry finds himself quickly growing attached to Tom Riddle's diary and the way it has so much to talk with him about.

Creatures of the Dark we are by @hikarimeroperiddle (M, 20k, WIP)

Banished to his cupboard at age 4, Harry learns to listen only to the Voice in his head. Its teachings wrap all around Harry until no more than dark magic and devotion remains, along with visions of a wraith with red eyes.

Everything Green Is Gold by @cindle-writes (E, 27k, complete)

Prior to Hogwarts, Harry had stayed mostly invisible to the teachers and adults around him his whole life. But Tom Riddle, the Defense Against the Dark Arts professor, looked at Harry like he was something to be wanted.

File A by @kushimanii (E, 7k, complete)

In a different universe, one where the prophecy was never heard and Voldemort won, Voldemort finds eight-year-old Harry Potter in the basement of Fenrir Greyback and takes him in.

he whistles and he runs by @wolfantlersinspace (E, 5k, complete)

"Tom," Harry murmured, ducking under a branch and nearly touching the top of Tom's diary with his lips, "I really don’t like this."

Hearthstone Abbey by @ramabear (E, 92k, WIP)

Harry follows Thomas Gaunt into his world much like he stepped onto Diagon Alley that first time, wide-eyed and full of wonder. He has no idea what exactly this world has in store for him, but he knows that with Thomas at his side, he is safe and happy for the first time in his whole life. 

Make a Wish by @crowcrowcrowthing (E, 3k, complete)

Tom Riddle is wasting away in his hospital bed, far too young to succumb to such a terrible and mysterious illness. The only thing that gives him solace is the hope that football star Harry Potter might visit him in his final days.

Quam singulari by anon (E, 6k, complete)

Spermarche: the beginning of a boy's development of sperm; normally signifies a boy's beginning in sexual maturity and puberty.

shelter from the storm by @cindle-writes & @duplicitywrites (E, 7k, complete)

After being left behind by the Dursleys, Harry stumbles upon an empty shack in the middle of nowhere, where he finds a mysterious ring underneath the loose floorboards.

study session by @ilya-zzz (E, 3k, complete)

"Tom–" Harry tries, coughing a couple times before lifting his hands to his head, softly rubbing his temples a couple times. "...I think you should go back to your common room."

The Abyss by AislingSiobhan (E, 36k, complete)

Nietzsche was right: when fighting monsters, Harry should have been more careful not to become one himself. That didn’t matter anymore. It was too late to save himself, yet he could still save the world from Voldemort. But who would save Voldemort from him?

the eternal flame by @duplicitywrites (E, 25k, WIP)

There’s a well-dressed older man who enters the orphanage asking after Tom Riddle. The man’s green eyes fix on Tom’s face, searching and searching. “My name is Harry Gaunt,” the man says, the tenor of his voice soft and faltering, a reflection of Tom's deepest, most secret anxieties, “and I’m here to adopt you.”

This Is Why You Don't Summon Demons, Harry by @kushimanii (E, 59k, complete)

Harry Potter is seven when he's left at the nearby church by Petunia to get an exorcism. Instead, he ends up summoning a demon that he makes a deal with. The demon, Voldemort, will protect him, and in return, the demon will devour his soul when it is ripe.

Without A Chance by Harryfan80 (E, 20k, complete)

When Voldemort (as Quirrell) meets Harry in her first year at Hogwarts, he exploits her naivete and uses her to acquire the Sorcerer's Stone.

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#tomarrymort #tomarry #harrymort #aethon recs #tomarry recs #tomarrymort recs #harrymort recs #dead dove #dead dove recs #dead dove do not read #hp fic recs #ao3 recs #fanfic recs #tom riddle #voldemort

[cherryslyce]

Second Son (XII) | Regulus Black

Series Synopsis: Forbidden from contacting Harry over the summer, you opt to explore the eerie halls of Grimmauld Place where you stumble upon a lonely portrait of the House's second son.

— Chapter Synopsis: Dumbledore, Harry, and Y/N explore the Crystal Cave. Draco's mission proves to have dire consequences.

Part XI / Part XIII / Series Masterlist

Pairing: Regulus Black x GN!Reader

Notes: Oh man. Yay for the end of sixth year ? ... haha

The rocky ventricle of the cliff side was far less exciting than the seaside, but there was something beguiling about the dim green shine and wet black rocks of the cave. Harry was careful to maintain steady footing as you all hiked through the damp cave, soon finding a rounded dead end. 

Before you can question Dumbledore, he whips out a small knife from his robes, spinning on his heel to face you both. A small pang of panic shoots through your body before you realize that your headmaster was cutting his hand and not attempting to maul you both with the ornamental paring knife. 

Tilting your head, you search the man’s calm expression for an answer, “Sir?” Your voice trails off as he swipes his bloodied hand against the rocks beside him. 

The man turns to you both with an undisturbed smile, “To gain passage, a payment must be made. Payment intended to weaken the intruder.” 

You mask your bewilderment and simply shoot a fleeting glance at Harry, who did not even attempt to suppress his bafflement. 

As the blood seeps into the crevices of the rocks, the stone wall begins to flake and crumble. Stepping back as the rocks fall towards your feet, you feel your mouth drop open at the newly revealed sight of opaque crystals. The new cave pocket was alight with a dull gleam, displaying a likeness to a troll-size geode. 

“Voldemort never did skimp with such extravagances.” You muse, ignoring the unimpressed eyebrow raise Harry shoots towards you. 

As you all clamber over the seemingly endless hills of jagged crystals, you decide to reach out to Regulus, no longer able to ignore the persistent blaring of the hundreds of magical signatures around you. 

‘Reg, there are countless different magical signatures in here.’ 

‘I think I might know what this place is.’ Regulus’ words are hushed, clearly deep in thought as he tries to untangle the foggy web of memories that Sirius unlocked.

Darting your eyes around the darkness, you nearly slip as your concentration splinters into a dozen different directions. 

‘You do? How?’ 

‘The ocean. My human-self was immersed in research on some place called the Crystal Cave. Something about the beach and a hidden horcrux. Since you’re all searching for his horcrux, I can only assume my research was right.’  

Before you can coax Regulus for more answers, you stop behind Harry as Dumbledore peers across the vast darkness of the water. It seemed as though there was nothing left to explore, the eerily calm body of water expanding far into the void. 

Closing your eyes, you zone out of the conversation between Dumbledore and Harry, focusing on the overwhelming amount of magical signatures around you that seemed to be screaming for your attention. 

There was something familiar about the magic, it was almost like the magic around Regulus’ portrait except more potent with a tinge of something you couldn’t quite comprehend. Before you have time to contemplate these findings, you open your eyes as you feel a tug on your sleeve. 

Meeting Harry’s concerned eyes, you realize that Dumbledore had somehow managed to summon a small canoe from the waters and now both men were patiently waiting for you to collect yourself. 

“Sorry.” You whisper, gesturing for Harry to get inside before you. Dumbledore simply assesses you with a thoughtful look before turning to face the dark waters as you shakily step into the canoe. 

The journey across the waters is surprisingly serene, and you had half the mind to be cautious of enemies hidden in the darkness around you. It was troubling that you all hadn’t stumbled across any serpentine puzzles or tremendous creatures. 

If this place truly contains a horcrux, it would be best to be on guard. Underestimating Voldemort would only lead you to a swift death. 

As the canoe reaches the edge of a crystal island, you all part from the delicate boat quietly. Most of the journey had been spent in tense silence and you were beginning to get a sinking feeling from the cave, as if there was a large chunk of mystery you wouldn’t be privy to for a while. 

The three of you clamber towards the top of the crystal mound, circling around a particular crystal that emerged to form a basin. The depression at its center contained a cloudy liquid, an inky black fog swirling in the center to conceal the contents at the bottom. Dumbledore swipes his hand over the liquid, clearly trying to vanish it with magic. 

You feel confusion wash over you as the liquid warps under the pressure before merely repelling his hand. 

Dumbledore raises his head to look at Harry before turning to your questioning eyes, “It has to be drunk.” 

Stepping back from the basin, you nearly topple over as Regulus’ voice loudly rings in your head, voice strained with panic, ‘Don’t drink it! I remember now. The Dark Lord – he brought Kreacher here and did something to him. Kreacher barely made it out alive, but he was frenzied and told human-me he had drunk something.’

Regulus’ words come out in a huge rush and your nerves prickle from his uncharacteristic loss of composure. 

“Sir. I don’t think you should drink it.” Your words have both men turning towards you, clearly seeing no other way to access the horcrux. Biting your lip in contemplation, you decide to elaborate, “Headmaster, I’m sure you are already aware of my companion. He told me that the concoction nearly killed his house elf.” 

Dumbledore seems to consider your words before he drops his gaze back down into the basin, “I see. However, there seems to be no other way.”

Harry seems to be alarmed by your words and steps forward, “But sir–” 

Dumbledore holds up a hand and closes his eyes in resignation, “Conditions. There are conditions for you both that I failed to impart to you before we ventured here.” He opens his eyes and narrows them, “If something is to happen, you both must save yourselves. Do not worry about me.”

You share a look with Harry, before you reluctantly nod in agreement. They were not the most difficult conditions you’ve ever been given, between your headmaster and Harry, you would pick your friend, always. 

As Dumbledore and Harry fall into a hushed conversation about the conditions and the liquid, you slowly drift into your thoughts again. It didn’t make sense what you were feeling, how were there so many magical signatures around even with no sign of actual magical beings? You wanted to ask Regulus for help, but you knew that the boy likely knew nothing past what he told you. 

Exhaling shakily, you watch as Dumbledore scoops up some of the liquid before drinking it. The reaction is almost instantaneous, your eyes widen as you see his eyes darken, choked noises escaping his dry lips as he lightly convulses. 

“Professor? Professor!” Harry’s concerned words grow louder as the man grunts loudly, shaking more violently on the spot before tumbling down onto the ground. You lunge forwards, reaching out futilely as Dumbledore continues to grunt and jerk. It seemed as though he was no longer even aware of his surroundings, too enraptured by what the liquid was doing to his body and mind. 

Swallowing harshly, you feel fear prickle through your body as Dumbledore thrashes around before stilling suddenly. Harry turns to you briefly and your heart clenches at the sight of his horrified expression. 

Seeming to ground himself, Dumbledore sits up and jerks a hand towards the basin. Harry seems to understand what the man is trying to say and he rushes back to bring more of the liquid. 

You stay next to Dumbledore, helplessly muttering assurances to the man as he seems to be dragged back into his haze, beginning to groan and plead for something. Harry is able to keep his composure for the most part and continues to feed Dumbledore the concoction, rushing back and forth to try and empty the basin quickly. 

“It’s my fault!” Dumbledore’s wails are sure to haunt your dreams for the next coming months, and you’re faintly aware of the tears blurring your vision. It was one thing to face blood-thirsty creatures and other wizards in battle, it was another thing to be completely helpless in the face of psychological torment. You were barely strong enough for the former, you had very little training to cope with the latter. 

In the flurry of your panic, you’re unaware that you’ve been flooding your mind link with anxiety until you feel a sudden wave of comfort being nudged toward you by Regulus. The warm feeling of his magic wrapping around yours grounds you and you make note to thank him later.  Shaking your head, you push aside your dread and focus on the task at hand.

Just as your mind clears, you see Dumbledore cease in his hysteria, feeling Harry lean down towards the man from next to you. You both release an exhale of relief as your headmaster seems to be fully aware again, his eyes no longer glassy and unseeing. 

“Water.” His croak comes out dry and you shoot up from your spot to clamber towards the basin, eyes widening in relief as you see a pendant laying at the bottom. 

It worked, you had the horcrux now. 

Wrapping your fingers around the object, you’re struck with confusion almost immediately. The locket had no magical trace or signature whatsoever. 

“Wait. Harry-” Your words get caught in your throat as you turn around and see Harry standing still, attention drawn to something in the water. Bringing the locket up to your face, you scrutinize it further, still feeling no residual dark magic. 

Gripping the chain tightly, you slowly pull it over your head and tuck it underneath your shirt, not perturbed by potential dangers as you realize it was practically just an ordinary necklace. 

You had seen cursed necklaces before, and you were fairly confident that it wouldn’t toss you into the air like Katie Bell or try and choke you to death. 

Great, you all suffered for nothing. 

“Lumos Maxima!” Harry’s shout distracts you from your thoughts and you begin to walk toward him, still not understanding what he was seeing. As you near the edge of the island, you gasp as you feel an onslaught of magic suddenly crash into you. 

Stumbling back, you watch as pale, gaunt figures begin to claw their way from the water’s surface and toward you both. The grisly creatures were all milky, but you could see some distinguishing differences between them all. 

What disturbed you most though was the fact that you could feel faint magic lingering around them. As you backed away, you realized that aside from the numerous unique signatures, there was a darker, suffocating magic that blanketed them all. 

Your mind started racing – They were puppets. Reanimated using magic. Not corpses, but not living. They were people. Perhaps a branch of necromancy.

It all clicked. “Inferi,” You gasp and grab Harry’s arm, dragging him towards a stunned Dumbledore.  

The inferi were far more harrowing in real life than in pictures from your textbooks. You could see the sunken skin that seemed to bloat around protruding bones, and wisps of hair that sprouted unevenly from their bulbous heads. 

Harry begins to fire off spells at the army of inferi and you reach around your jacket for your wand, eyes widening in panic as you realize they were surrounding you. 

“Fire! Harry, they fear fire!” Your shout is drowned out by Harry’s yelling and you groan in frustration. Grabbing your wand, you thrust it up and swing your arm over your head, “Pluvia Ignis!”

The heat of fire envelops you immediately and you blearily squint your eyes as a colossal ring of fire blazes up toward the cave’s ceiling, licking at the muggy air. Continuing to whirl your wand, you let out a sigh of relief as you see that you hadn’t burnt your companions to a crisp. The heat had the inferi receding back into the waters, but your celebration is cut short as you realize that the ring of fire was now consuming nearly every inch of the cave. 

Dumbledore stumbles towards you, one arm slung over Harry’s shoulders as the boy helps him find his footing. Ceasing your movements, you move to join the two as you watch the last few inferi dive into the water. 

Furrowing your brows, you feel a sudden pull toward the water. The pull was coming from your pocket and your hand, and you drew your hand back as you saw your finger gravitate toward the dark pool. Your ring was being attracted towards the water for some strange reason. 

Feeling the tug persist, you incline your head to look at your pocket. 

No, it wasn’t just your ring, but Regulus’ portrait as well.  

‘Reg?’ 

‘There’s something wrong. I feel…’ The boy’s words are shaky, but you can feel how his confusion mirrors yours as he trails off.

You have little time to ruminate further as you’re soon being dragged off by Harry as Dumbledore parts the flames. The inferno drags away into two tall walls, clearing a direct path back toward the other side of the cave. 

The journey back passes by in a blur as you’re busy with making sure Dumbledore wouldn’t keel over and die, while Harry moves the canoe along as quickly as he could. All along the way out, the tugging gradually faded and soon the conundrum was buried away in your thoughts. 

As soon as you all stumble out of the cave, Dumbledore grabs both of your elbows and apparates away from the shore. The warping of your body through the travel has you disoriented and mildly irritated, and you were mentally cursing your past-self for all the decisions that had amounted to the events of that day. 

The three of you touched down at the astronomy tower with a loud pop and muffled groans, your knees nearly buckling from exhaustion as soon as your heels slammed against the wooden boards. 

Harry helps guide Dumbledore to sit down, the man further weakened by the apparition. As you crouch down in front of the enervated headmaster, you both can barely make out what the man is mumbling. 

“Severus…Severus,” Dumbledore wheezes out. You share a look with Harry and usher him away with a wave of your hand, “I’ll stay and watch over him. You hurry and find Snape.”

Harry doesn’t look entirely convinced, but seeing no better alternative, complies with your words and quickly disappears behind a pillar and into the darkness. Before you can turn around to focus your attention on the pallor man next to you, you hear light footsteps slowly ascend the staircase. 

Turning your body to fully face the stairway, you reach for your wand and tense up in anticipation. To your surprise, you see Draco’s figure slowly round towards you both with his wand drawn. 

“Draco?” Your words are painted in disbelief, and you feel a pit lodge in your throat at the slytherin’s frantic eyes and white-knuckled grip. 

‘Reg, Draco is going to attack us.’ You clench your jaw and keep your hand on the hilt of your wand. 

‘Defend yourself, forget about Dumbledore.’ Regulus’ words are firm, with such strong conviction that you almost get whiplash thinking about how fraught he had just sounded in the cave. 

Shuffling away from the headmaster, you stand up shakily and draw your wand out to your side, not exactly rising up to the challenge, but ready to defend yourself. You were confident that you could hold up just fine against Draco. 

“L/N?” Draco sounds a tad surprised, as though he hadn’t seen you up until that moment, “What are you doing here?” His voice is now as panicked as his face, and you see his hostile demeanor falter slightly. 

Holding up one of your hands, you try to reason with the boy, “Draco, don’t do this. I know, okay. I know.”

Your words seem to only incense the boy as he practically snarls at you, “You don’t know! You don’t know what it’s like to be chosen!” With his last words, the boy is tearing the sleeve of his left arm upwards, thrusting his dark mark into your gobsmacked face. 

As your eyes drop down in resignation, you make eye contact with an alarmed Harry who was crouched on the floor below. Subtly shaking your head at the boy, you drag your eyes back up to look at Draco. 

The boy’s face was now twisted in something akin to pain, and you felt pity root you to your spot. Before you can open your mouth to speak, your attention is grabbed by the sound of a door opening in the distance. 

Frowning, you shuffle back to block Dumbledore, “You’re not alone?” 

“A passage. Vanishing cabinets that I repaired.” Draco’s words are embittered, but you knew it wasn’t towards you. . 

Noddin, you shrug one shoulder at him, commending him for his ingeniousness. Seeing that you were not going to reply, he lowers his wand slightly, “I don’t need you. Go. You need to leave. I only want him,” he jabs his chin in the direction of Dumbledore, who was still slumped on the floor. 

A large part of you did want to run, but you didn’t think you could ever look Harry in the eyes again if you did. 

‘Run, birdie. Listen to him. Protect yourself.’ Regulus’ pleads make your finger twitch and the urge to abandon your incapacitated headmaster grows stronger. 

“You know I can’t, Draco. Please don’t do this.” You step forward and reach out to him. 

The boy shakes his head fervently, “I have to. I have to kill him, or else he’s going to kill me.” His voice cracks with the last confession, and you feel your jaw clench at the cruelty of the situation. 

“I can help you. Blaise and I, we can protect you.” Your words are soft and you see Draco frown in conflict, eyes shining from unshed tears. He seems to almost believe your words — that you could possibly get him out of this predicament, but any semblance of resolve disappears as footsteps echo from the stairwell again. 

Looking down at the hole in the floor, you see that Harry is gone, possibly hiding or getting help. You shakily exhale before looking back at Draco. The slytherin looks at you like you’re about to be walked to your execution, and you can feel a stone of dread sink in your stomach. 

The first person to pop up from the staircase has your heart stuttering from fear, “Bellatrix.” Your voice is surprisingly firm, and you almost want to pat yourself on the back from how well you were standing your ground. 

The woman in question whips her head towards you and lets out a booming cackle, hands clutching at her stomach like she was just pronounced the heir to an enormous fortune. 

“Ickle, Y/N,” The crazed woman approaches Draco, peering over his shoulder, “and, oh! Dumbledore! Two sitting ducks!” She breaks out into more laughter and you avert your eyes from her hysterics to look at a distressed Draco. 

‘Y/N, leave. You can’t take on Bellatrix, she is utterly insane. Apparate somewhere, please.’ Regulus’ voice seems to fade out in your head as you go still from shock when you see Fenrir Greyback make his way towards you. Just as you regain enough sense to try and turn tail, the werewolf is hauling your figure towards him in a bruising grip, slamming you up against a nearby pillar. 

You gasp in shock and grit your teeth to stop from screaming as the werewolf moves a hand to grip your throat. Before you can try and hex the beast, a monotonous voice breaks through the tense atmosphere, “Enough.” 

Darting your eyes away, you almost want to cry in relief as you see a stone-faced Snape make his way out from the shadows. The grip on your neck slackens and you try to find your bearings by gripping the ridges of the pillar behind you. 

The rumors that Greyback was horrifying were not exaggerated by any means. 

Before you can breathe out in relief, figuring that your ex-Potions professor likely would spare your life, Greyback grips one of your arms tightly and stuffs his other hand in your jacket pocket, tearing himself away from you, Regulus’ portrait held victoriously above his head. 

“No!” Your scream is guttural, feral even, but the werewolf simply grins widely at your distress, pointed teeth menacingly peeking from his mouth. You try to lunge for the werewolf, wand drawn, but you feel someone slam into you before you can get far. 

Thrashing against the figure, you cry out as they twist your hand behind your back, making you drop your wand. Before you can plead with Morgana to send you the strength to hurl your assailant through the wall, you hear a voice harshly whisper in your ear, “Stop it. You’re going to get yourself killed.” 

You tense from shock and whip your head around to see a frustrated Draco glaring down at you in warning.  Pursing your lips together, you feel tears gather on your waterline as you turn back and see Greyback handing the portrait to a delighted Bellatrix. 

“Foolish child!” Her words stung, but your snarl only seems to amuse her, “And baby cousin, how disappointing.” Bellatrix’s smile is vindictive, like pure acid, as she appraises Regulus. 

‘Reg. I’m sorry! Please, I’m sorry!’ Your frantic words pour out as tears begin to slide down your cheeks, eyes blurring violently from the endless onslaught of tears. 

‘It’s okay, birdie. It’s not your fault,’ Regulus' words are loud in your head, and you release a strangled sob, feeling Draco tighten his grip on you at the sound, ‘I don’t think I’ve ever liked someone as much as I’ve liked you.’ 

Blinking away the tears, you can barely process what was happening as Bellatrix suddenly draws her wand, “Bombarda!”

Regulus’ portrait explodes in a spray of gold, pieces of the frame clattering around the floor, and you see the canvas flutter to the floor between you and the madwoman. 

“Reggie!” You try to throw Draco off of you, but the boy overpowers you and keeps his iron grip on you. 

Regulus turns his gaze towards you and you see him flash a small smile at you, one full of longing and sorrow, ‘I’ll find you again, my love.’ 

“Incendio!” Bellatrix’s gleeful yell echoes throughout your head, deafening you, but you’re sure it was your screams that could be heard from the other side of the castle. You feel Draco flinch behind you, and you drop down onto the ground, taking the slytherin down with you. 

You hunch over, tipping your head onto the floor as you begin to sob, incoherently mumbling as the death eaters around you seem to direct their attention to Dumbledore. 

You knew you should have kicked Draco to next Yule and grabbed your wand to defend the weakened headmaster, but you could barely tie together a coherent thought, and when you did, it only revolved around Regulus. 

Regulus – who was gone, for good this time. Gone because of you. 

It would be a euphemism to describe the feeling as emptiness, because what you were feeling transcended any feeling you could precisely pinpoint. Bellatrix might as well have thrust her claws into your chest and wrung your heart to a bleeding pulp. 

You wanted to bang your head against the wood and beg for a redo of the entire day. 

It was all a terrible dream. 

Yes, it was nothing more than a figment of your imagination. That made sense, you would never be that weak, right? 

Yes. You were dreaming.

This had to be a nightmare. 

Opening your eyes, you feel your nails digging into your head just as black dots start to swim in your vision. You couldn’t find the strength to lift your head up. 

It all had to have been a dream. Otherwise, why would it be so silent around you? You could sense it, nobody was in the room with you anymore. 

The dark spots start to move more vigorously, blooming across the wood and overtaking your vision. As your sight waned and the rushing of blood in your ears settled, you heard a muffled voice reach you, “Shit! Y/N!” 

And then you knew no more than darkness. 

Yes, it had to be a dream. Just a bad dream. 

tag list: @krazyk99 @venomsvl @valsarchives @bunny24sstuff @novella12nite @elia-the-bibliophile @txorua @xlifexdeathx @trikigirl271 @the-marauders-world @sleepydang @blueberry-thrawn @lestat-whore @chanaaaannel @clockworkherondale @peachyaeger @thegayhoenextdoor @l--absinthe @ok-boke @summer-noir @mikeikax @musically-ambiguous @dittos-blog-dylanobrien @friendly-neighborhood-boricua @randomfaeriechild @misacc08 @kingofsantafe01 @that-bitch-bri @ily2lia

#regulus black #regulus black x reader #regulus black imagine #regulus black fluff #regulus x reader #regulus black scenario #regulus black angst #regulus black imagines #regulus deserved better #regulus black series #harry potter series #harry potter imagine #harry potter fanfiction #harry potter #harry potter and the half blood prince #the noble house of black #sirius black #hermione granger #ronald weasley #the weasley twins #luna lovegood #blaise zabini #draco malfoy

[dufferpuffer]

Snapes Boggart

I don't think it will have anything to do with Lily. She is already dead, she had already rejected his friendship - the worst has already happened, and he has accepted that. He has taken these events into himself and grown from them. Voldemort's wrath? Mmm... Boggarts aren't really just something that scares you - they specifically try to make you feel your greatest fear. eg. Remus' isn't just a werewolf... but the threat of the full moon coming to make him transform, even though the moon isn't scary. Voldemort could figure out Snape is fooling him, and that would be quite spooky - but being killed isn't exactly something that worries Snape too much. Dumbledore losing faith in him is a better candidate, because Dumbledore is the only one with any care for him. If Albus kicked him to the curb, sent the Ministry after him, cancelled his role of Potions Master, told him to never come near Harry again... what exactly would he have to live for...? He may as well try and kill the dark lord himself. ((oh fuck thats an interesting fic idea - Severus on the run trying to single-handedly take down Voldemort, because he may aswell.))

I think his Boggart is his father.

His father was a muggle and he was abusive. I'm not saying Severus shakes in his boots every time he thinks of his dad, but the memories do still upset and embarrass him. He hated muggles and he loved magic. No muggle children liked him, only Lily - a witch. The muggle world gave him nothing but misery. Him being a half-blood was a shameful thing for a young Snape. His feelings about muggles cost him his friendship with Lily. His feelings about muggles lead him to become a Death Eater... lead Lily to her death. He has grown, he no longer seems to care about blood purity above aesthetic anyway... but his entire life has been irreparably changed and shaped around the fact he has Muggle blood. I think if Severus Snape walked into the classroom when Remus was teaching about Boggarts... his father would have walked right out of that cupboard and started belittling him in a thick Mid-Northerner Black Country accent, perhaps even drunken. Of course Severus is hardly going to cower in fear at his father... but I think just the thick reminder of where he came from, who he was, what decisions he has made in life because of it... it completely unsettles him. Seeing his fathers face is an instant trigger, and the humiliation of a room of students seeing it - god, he WISHES it was just Voldemort killing him...

#hp #severus snape #boggart

[fleurmionefridays]

Fleurmione Fridays: January 2024 Soulmates / Veela Mates

A quarterly rec list curated by the 18+ fleurmione discord server. Inspired by @hpsaffics #wlw wednesday.

All 29 fics under the cut are complete and listed longest to shortest!

Second Chances by @kamaro0917. [E | 169k]

Everything changed in the blink of an eye. Harry Potter was dead and the war was lost. The remaining members of the Order of the Phoenix go into hiding and Voldemort’s rise to power is complete. In a twist of fate, Hermione finds a Time Turner and makes plans to fix the mistakes of the past. Little does she know, she’s not the only one making the time jump.

Tender is the Night by @lipzlipzlipz. [M | 151k]

In a bid to keep from breaking one person’s heart, Fleur does something drastic which prevents her from recognizing Hermione as her mate, but it doesn’t prevent the love that grows anyway. A night of passion leads to heartbreak and so much more, putting two brokenhearted women on separate paths that lead right back to each other.

Fleur De Mon Coeur by SkyKnight07. [M | 141.5k]

Goblet of Fire but in a different year. Fleur Delacour comes to Hogwarts to take part in the Triwizard Tournament not realising that her life is going to change drastically, by the simple presence of Hogwarts' All-Time Smartest Witch, Hermione Granger, who she finds to be her lifelong mate.

Golden Haze by @anamatics. [M | 140k]

There is a golden haze that comes over a Veela's vision when they are upset or angry or in love. After the fall of Voldemort, Fleur takes a position at Hogwarts and finds herself moving forward rather than going backwards for the first time in her life.

One Step at a Time by hphglover. [M | 118k]

Fleur's life is a sham. She comes to Hermione for help with something important and Hermione accepts to lend a hand. Throughout their journey, many things will change and they will find out what true love really is.

What You Don't Know by @zerodawn22. [M | 108k]

Everyone has a weird gap in their knowledge. Unfortunately for her, Hermione's coincides with a mistake that could have huge consequences. She's known as the Brightest Witch of Her Age, but there are some things she has just never come across. Try explaining that to an enraged Veela... Fleurmione. Femslash. Post-War.

Dusk of Summer by @cadenceoftherain. [M | 86.5k]

Dusk of Summer takes place during Hermione's fourth year at Hogwarts, the same year that Fleur Delacour visits the school in hope to compete in the Triwizard Tournament, and the same year they begin their love affair. This is an alternate universe, so possibilities are limitless. I must apologize for the terrible summary, but there's quite a bit more information inside.

Entwined by @orbitalwings. [T | 85k]

After an impossible encounter, two young women find their lives destined to entwine. This is the tale of Hermione Granger and Fleur Delacour, and how they fell in love.

Time Is An Asshole by Psychological_Top. [E | 80k]

Hermione and Fleur haven't seen each other in over ten years. Both having jumped in their careers, they meet unexpectedly in London only to find their past resurfacing. Slow burn Fleurmione.

Always by Caydus. [M | 78k]

A young Hermione Granger meets a beautiful French girl on a family holiday. When this same girl shows up again over a year later, Hermione realises that sometimes there is such a thing as true love.

sometimes you've got to bleed to know by jump_the_gunn. [M | 74k]

Ten years after the battle of Hogwarts the top half of a dead body appears in the office of the British Prime Minister's fireplace, with the bottom half appearing in the office of the French Minister for Magic. Aurors Fleur Delacour and Hermione Granger must work together conducting a cross channel investigation to find the killer. Inspired by The Tunnel TV show.

Aeternum by Noder. [T | 37.5k]

“How long does this last?” Fleur looked Hermione in the eyes, and held her gaze for three agonizing seconds before she deemed to answer her. “Until you give in.” She spoke the words with cruel honesty, letting her angry tears flow down her cheeks and fall into the water at her feet.

I Get Along Without You Very Well by @lipzlipzlipz. [M | 32k]

Don’t get her hopes up. Don’t let anyone in. Don’t risk her heart. These weren’t the only lessons the tournament year taught her, but they were the hardest and Fleur Delacour learned them well. Until a girl with honey-brown eyes made her want to forget every one of them. A sequel to I Only Have Eyes For You

Runes by Cumbersome. [M | 25k]

Soulmate trash. Because I can. And we all want it.

Thread by SaberWolfxvi. [T | 20.5k]

The red thread of fate binds two souls together forever, no matter what the obstacles, no matter what their present is.

Of Blood & Carnations by @rice-and-beans. [E | 18k]

Inspired by Pablo Neruda's Sonnet VII. The war is over. It is a time for healing. The Order has invested in a sort of intensive therapeutic house for our heroes to recuperate. Therapists, therapies, reprieve. Exactly what they need to begin a long road of recovery. So why does Hermione feel worse? Is she going mad? She's hearing voices, and she feels more and more that her body is not her own. She suspects others know more than they are sharing, and she doesn't know who to trust.

Time's Up by volkova21. [T | 17k]

Here's an AU oneshot. Something.. fun? So, another 4th Year rewrite. I wanted to play with the soulmate trope, but most of them have Fleur knowing that Hermione is her mate. This time, well, Hermione will know and not Fleur. I'm reasoning that if wizards were so slow to adopt indoor plumbing, that they may not have timers yet, that the muggleborns are at this point the only ones who have them so... yeah, enjoy some awkward Hermione/Fleur moments.

No Defense For You by Dreiser. [T | 15k]

Its the seventh year at Hogwarts and Hermione discovers she really is quite feminine but oddly, she has no interest in boys, only in the new Professor for Defense Against the Dark Arts who has a mysterious connection to her.

Home by SquirrelGay. [T | 12k]

“Fleur” I called again, “What’s happened to you now?”

Let's hurt tonight (If love is pain) by Twot. [M | 9.5k]

When she was younger, Fleur actively searched for her soulmate. She craved for the one that would make her heart beat wild, but her soul feel calm. Her understanding of how sick the concept of soulmates was started with Gabrielle. The blonde avoided the Gryffindor like a boggart the light and the Gryffindor followed her like a niffler the gold. Hermione was determined to fight for a chance with her soulmate Soulmate au where you can feel your soulmate's pain

Hell Hath No Fury Like A Veela Scorned by InsomniacAndBi. [G | 7k]

Apparently, a slight against the mate of a Veela is a slight against the whole flock or so Umbridge finds out So, this is seriously Au. No Voldemort but Umbridge somehow is still at Hogwarts

Lest We () by @soshyyyyy. [T | 6.5k]

Harry always had expelliarmus. Hermione supposed she had something of a specialty too. post war au where the war lasted much longer and the sacrifices made, much bigger.

Not In Love by waltzlikeits1698. [T | 6k]

“This is all hypothetical, right? You don’t actually want me to come with you.” “Of course, totally ‘ypothetical,” Fleur lied, her heartbeat quickening. She paused. “But if you did want to come with me, then that would be okay. Maman is already expecting me to bring someone anyway. And you match the description of the person she is expecting. So…” - Fleur's taking Hermione to the family reunion - as her date. Which is fine, because Fleur's not in love with Hermione and Hermione's not in love with Fleur. At all.

19th September by ALKimC and @midmoonkitsune. [G | 5k]

“They say Soulmates share one special something; that one piece that connects them in a precious way. Cannot be matched. Cannot be broken.” Pge 26, The Veela Tribal vol.3.

Penetration by @hoardlessdragon. [M | 4k]

What happens when Hermione accidentally finds herself in a vampire coven?

The Result of Veela Insecurity by Dranny. [G | 3.5k]

All Harry wanted to do was get some sleep. Doesn't look like it's gonna happen anytime soon

A single word by @mushroom-grey-scale T | 2.5k]

Despite months of living in the same house, there were only a small amount of things Bill could do to calm a veela's temper.

Secret Studying by Originalpuck. [T | 2k]

Fleur knows that not every soulmate relationship goes smoothly, but she had hoped her soulmate would be as thrilled to meet her as she was to meet Hermione.

Lalochezia by MadTrout. [T | <1k]

Lalochezia - The use of abusive language to relieve stress or ease pain. Hermione is experiencing the worst pain known to womankind.

#fleurmione #fleur delacour #hermione granger #soulmates #veela mates

[fresiants]

I'm tired of people comparing Regulus to Severus and arguing that Regulus is better because he switched sides and sacrificed himself to switch the Horcrux.

1 — They're ignoring the fact that we barely know anything about Regulus. Personally, I see little difference between Regulus and Severus when it comes to changing sides: Regulus betrayed Voldemort after Kreacher's life was threatened, much like Severus betrayed Voldemort after Lily's life was endangered.

2 — In another comment, they claim that "Severus had no issue joining a group of mass murderers while Regulus was forced by his family." However, there is no evidence indicating that Regulus cared about Muggleborns at all. He was perfectly content with aligning himself with a group that targeted and killed both Muggles and Muggleborns until someone he cared about faced danger.

3 — If stealing a Horcrux makes Regulus a good person, then dedicating nearly half his life to the Order makes Severus an even greater person, doesn't it? Why would you highlight one character's contributions to the war while disregarding the other's?

4 — Nobody is defending Severus' mistreatment of students. Get over it. We're simply tired of people idolizing characters like Barty, Regulus and Rosier while simultaneously vilifying Severus.

5 — It was easier for Regulus Black to betray the Death Eaters than it was for Severus Snape because Regulus wasn't bound to the group through trauma. Regulus didn't join the Death Eaters because he felt it was the only place he belonged. On the other hand, Severus had nowhere else to go. He suffered abuse, bullying, and neglect his entire life. When he was sexually assaulted or nearly killed by a werewolf, nobody at school showed any type of care towards him. It was undoubtedly more difficult for Severus to betray Voldemort to join a group that had consistently shown him no concern—a group we've considered the "good side" all along.

6 — The only reason people think Regulus was a better person is because he is DEAD. We never witness him interacting with others or speaking with Muggleborns. We will never truly know what kind of person he was. It's merely an assumption that he must have been an angel who was forced to join a group full of mass murderers. (Get your headcanon out of my face.)

7 — Comparing a privileged, wealthy child who never experienced any form of discrimination his whole entire life to a child born in poverty and constantly bullied for merely existing is very weird. Naturally, they would exhibit different behaviors.

To clarify, I love Regulus Black, but believing that he is better than Severus, who devoted his entire life to the Order, is very wrong.

#severus snape #pro snape #pro severus snape #pro severus #harry potter #hp #snape defense #snape content #snapedom #snover #anti snaters #my take

[ellecdc]

Come Back, Be Here (part 4)

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

Sirius Black x fem!reader - First Wizarding War Order of the Phoenix - 6.2k words

CW: mentions of past abuse/torture, amnesia, hurt/comfort, fluff, banter, Walburga Black, use of Y/N

Synopsis: After sacrificing yourself to save your friend and Order partner James months before, you're found on the brink of death. Now, you're moving in to 12 Grimmauld Place.

The group watched as the row of townhomes groaned and stretched to expose 12 Grimmauld place in all her glory. Sirius was certain he could hear his mother and father rolling in their graves to know that he – their disinherited blood-traitor son – was the last Black and official heir once again to the Ancient and Most Noble House of Black. He grimaced at the title. 

“Two disgraced Black’s returning to the scene of the crime.” Ted Tonks joked, both Sirius and Andromeda gave him a look. 

“Feels like the beginning of a bad, racist joke.” James mused.

Sirius groaned in response. “What happens when three blood-traitors, three muggle-borns and one half-blood half-breed walk into a bar?” 

“Get drunk, I hope.” Lily muttered miserably. 

“Well, Sirius, welcome home.” Andromeda announced as she made her way up the stairs to the front door. Sirius pushed the door open and stepped inside a house he hadn’t stepped foot into since he was sixteen years old. He had been so sure at that time that he’d never return; he wished he had been right. 

The house was just as dark and gloomy as it had been when he left it, but it was now also covered in a thick layer of dust.

“Okay, please, for the love of all that is holy: Lily, Y/N, Remus, Ted: you are to touch nothing until Andromeda, James or I have checked it first.” Sirius said before pausing, “Scratch that. Touch nothing until Andromeda or I have checked it – okay?”

This earned him an indignant ‘hey!’ from James and a quick agreement from everyone else. 

“YOU DISGRACEFUL, WRETCHED BOY!” Sirius’s face drained of all colour at the all-too-familiar sound of his mother’s screeching.

“That old hag is supposed to be dead!” He shouted as he and Andromeda ran up the stairs following the sound of his foul-mouthed mother.

“HOW DARE YOU STEP FOOT INTO THIS MOST NOBLE AND ANCIENT HOUSE, YOU FLITHY BLOOD TRAITOR!” the screeching continued.

The source of the chaos came from none other than an awful magical portrait of the very late Walburga Black, Sirius’ mother and Andromeda’s aunt.

“Oh, thank Godric, she is dead.” Sirius sighed in relief, though he wasn’t sure what he was going to do about the very unwelcome company haunting this house.

“Maybe we can remove it?” Andromeda mused as she tried to pull the portrait from the wall. 

“GET YOUR FILTHY HANDS OFF OF ME; SULLYING YOURSELF WITH THE LIKES OF MUDBLOODS YOU TRAITOROUS WHORE.”

“Charming as always, Aunt Walburga.” She muttered when her pulling was for naught. 

Sirius attempted a silencio which seemed to work for at least a little as Walburga’s face contorted with rage and she continued spewing what Sirius could only assume was foul hatred for all things not Voldemort related. 

“Okay so that will last like, not long enough at all. Merlin, I wish we could just burn this place down with her in it.” He muttered as they made their way back downstairs. Ted and James were cooing over a crying Harry who must have been upset at the screeching of the house’s previous occupant, while Remus and Lily muttered quietly to each other. You leaned against the wall with your arms crossed, appearing bored for all intents and purposes, but Sirius could tell you were straining your neck to peer into the rooms you could see from your post. 

“Okay, semi-false alarm. Walburga is indeed still dead.” Sirius stated which was met with a cheer from James causing Harry to clap in comradery.  

“However, she has cursed us with a magical portrait of herself stuck on the wall with a permanent sticking charm.” He finished, causing James to groan and Harry to start crying again. 

“Okay, so, ignoring the unpleasant company for now, where do we start?” Lily interrupted. 

“First of all, Red, as I said you will not be starting anywhere.” Sirius rallied. 

“Sirius, this place is huge, and we need to clear a space for six of us to sleep tonight.” She countered, but the argument was interrupted by the doorbell ringing. 

Everyone exchanged nervous glances. “Literally, no one should know we’re here.” James muttered. 

“It could be Moody?” Remus offered nervously. 

“Should Kreacher answer the door, Master.” A crotchety old voice sneered from behind him, causing Sirius to yelp and jump what felt like a foot in the air. 

“Merlin’s tits.” James muttered as Harry started shrieking again. 

“Godric, I’ve never seen you not hanging off my mother’s bosom; I sort of hoped you had died with her.” He muttered, rubbing his chest trying to convince his heart to return to a normal pace.

“Sirius.” You scolded from your place against the wall. 

“Kreacher lives to serve the Most Noble and Ancient House of Black, even if it’s occupants are filthy blood-traitors and their mud-bloods.” The ancient house-elf muttered. 

“New management, new rule Kreacher, no more mud-blood talk.” Sirius barked.

“Yes, Master.” The elf sneered before heading toward the door. Sirius quickly pulled you and Lily, who was now holding a sniffling Harry, behind him much to the chagrin of the two women. 

“Master, the wizard tells Kreacher that he’s a curse breaker sent by a Moody.” The elf mumbles over his shoulder. 

Sirius relinquished his hold on the two witches and allowed the man entry. 

Sirius reiterated to the curse breaker that Lily, Remus, you, and Ted were not to touch anything in any room until the curse breaker, Sirius or Andromeda cleared it first. The curse breaker showed James, Andromeda, and Sirius a few detection spells and a few simple reversal charms before they set off to different levels of the house; Sirius and Andromeda decided to focus on the bedrooms and bathrooms whilst the curse break started in the shared living spaces on the first floor, and James went to the kitchen with Kreacher. 

Sirius felt like he was making decent progress. He and Andromeda had cleared out three bedrooms and two bathrooms between the second and third floors, and he had worked up a decent sweat. He had two boxes of dark artifacts to be either destroyed, uncursed or donated. The screeching had started back up in earnest again when the silencio wore off an hour after casting. 

“You miserable hag.” Sirius muttered as he marched over to his mother’s portrait to recast the spell. Once the ringing in his ears stopped, he heard another shriek and a bang.

“Y/N!” Lily could be heard shouting, and Sirius bolted down the stairs. He arrived in the parlour at the same time as Remus and James. 

“What happened?” Remus demanded. 

“She touched a book!” Lily tattled. 

“I’m fine.” You muttered as you sat up and cradled your right wrist. 

Sirius sighed, fear melting into frustration which quickly melted into fondness. “You sneaky little witch.” He muttered as he moved to crouch beside you. “Let me see.”

“No.” You pouted. 

“Y/N.” 

“No. I’m fine.” 

“Let me see your hand.”

“Bugger off.” 

“You minx.” 

Sirius sat there biting his cheek trying to suppress a grin at the sight of you sitting petulantly feeling embarrassed being caught having done something naughty. 

“What did I say?” Sirius scolded.

You muttered something under your breath.

“What was that?” He smirked, leaning his ear closer to you for dramatic effect. 

“Not to touch anything.”

“Uh huh. And what did you do?” 

“I touched something.” 

Sirius was full on beaming at you now. 

“Thought so, let me see.” 

You let out an indignant huff and held your wrist out to Sirius, who despite his crassness, took it so unbelievably gently in his own hands. It appeared that you had touched something that was cursed with a knock-back jinx, which twisted your wrist violently on impact. It could have been worse, small mercies. 

“Dollface, I could have gotten you a book if you were bored.” Sirius commented as he reduced the swelling with a quick flick of his wand and placed a glacius charm to help with any more inflammation. 

“Don’t tease me.” You whispered miserably, and Sirius looked up to see that your eyes were glassy. 

“Are the tears because you’re hurt, because you’re scared, or because you’re embarrassed?” Sirius whispered back. Your eyes met his and a single tear fell. He lifted his hand which was met with a mild flinch before he gently wiped it away with his thumb. 

“I’m not teasing, love. And you don’t have to be embarrassed; if it hadn’t been you, it would have been Moony.” Which was met with an indignant ‘Oi!’ from the werewolf who had moved down the hall in an attempt to give them privacy. “You also don’t have to be scared. Alright?”

You held his gaze before nodding with a sniff. He massaged your wrist and hand gently, recasting a glacius over the injury. 

“Did I teach you this?” You asked quietly, causing Sirius’ head to shoot up from its lowered position.

“Do you remember?” He asked unbelievingly. 

You moved your head back-and-forth as if to say so-so. “I remember...uhm-”

He waited with bated breath watching your face as you organized your thoughts.

“Bludgers. The smell of cigarettes and broom wax. And a broken wrist.” 

Sirius was sure he heard angels singing. Her first memory is resurfacing. And it’s when I broke my wrist playing quidditch at Potter manor.

“It was you, wasn’t it? Who broke their wrist?” You clarified. 

Sirius nodded dumbly. “Yes.” He croaked. 

“I think you got hurt often.”

Sirius chuckled, “Yes, I certainly did.” 

“That must have been exciting.” You mused. 

“I’m sure I was exhausting.” He countered as he continued massaging your arm. He could probably stop now, but he really didn’t want to. 

“Please; you got hurt because you were playing quidditch, I got hurt because I touched a book after I was specifically told not to touch anything.” 

Sirius barked a laugh. “Oh, come now. It’s my fault really; I should have known better than to try to tell you what to do.” 

You both sat in a comfortable silence for a few moments; Sirius continuing to work out tension in your arm. 

“Which book was it?” He asked you finally. He seemed to catch you off guard, as you looked at him inquisitively. “Which book were you trying to read?”

You blushed but stood up and pointed to the offending book. Secrets of the Darkest Art. 

“All this fuss over a book, babe?” he smirked at you as your blush intensified. He cast a quick counter curse over it like the curse breaker taught him and handed you the book. 

“Now please, for the love of Merlin, don’t touch anything else?” He asked with a smile which was met with a shy smile of your own.

“Thanks, Siri.” You mumbled. His heart soared at your use of his old nickname, and before he even realized what he was doing, he bent down and placed a kiss on your forehead. 

“Read up, my little swot. I think I heard Kreacher muttering about making dinner. Hopefully it’s not poisoned.” He said as he exited the room. 

Turns out, dinner was not poisoned, and it was actually quite good. They all thanked Kreacher even though the elf acted as if the simple act of feeding them would be the thing to damn him straight to hell. The Tonks’ were quite eager to leave after the fourth rousing of Walburga and left before the dinner was served. Andromeda and Sirius had managed to de-dark-art-ify all the bedrooms on the second and third floor plus the bathrooms. They opted to leave his parents room, and his and Regulus’ rooms untouched. As much as they teased poor James, he accomplished quite a lot in the kitchen and main living room, while the curse breaker focused on the hallways and various parlour rooms on the main floor. Lily mentioned that she wouldn’t mind brightening the place up if Sirius was open to some redecorating – to which he responded with a quick “If it were up to me, Red, this place would be in flames by now”, so she advised she’d make some plans tomorrow. You and Remus fussed over Harry to save Kreacher from anymore toddler ear yanks, but if the house-elf was grateful for the interference, he didn’t show it. A message arrived stating that the cottage in Godric’s Hollow appeared to be secure; Lily looked like she wanted to cry at the prospect of being reunited with her things. 

Remus said goodbye to everyone after dinner, stating he couldn’t leave the flat unattended since Sirius appears to be willing to neglect it for the next foreseeable future, which was met with a two-finger salute from Sirius and boos from James which were then chorused by Harry. 

“It’s meant to be a slumber party, Moony. Just like the old days.” James whined, which sucked the air out of the room; it suddenly became very obvious to Sirius, James, Lily, and Remus that they had been betrayed by their closest friend, who was possibly responsible for the death of some of their other friends. 

“Pads, we can’t keep paying for a flat that no one is using.” Remus argued.

“Uhm, I can, and I will, thank you very much. What’s the point of inheriting all of my family’s dirty money if I can’t waste it on whatever I want?” 

Remus sighed, “Fine. I’m going home tonight, though. I can’t leave the cat and the plants.”

“You’re such a good daddy.” Lily smirked from the end of the table. 

“Shush, you.” Remus said as he ruffled her hair before smoothing it out and kissing the top of her head. He moved to Harry and placed a kiss there too, before James stuck his head up as if he, too, was waiting for a kiss. Remus rolled his eyes before pecking both James and Sirius on the head and pausing at you. 

“What? No kiss for me, Moony?” You smirked and teasingly batted your eyelashes at him. Remus laughed and placed a kiss on your head before waving and promising everyone he’d be back tomorrow, cat and plants in tow. 

Much to Kreacher’s chagrin, Sirius and James insisted on cleaning up the kitchen themselves which got a “filthy blood-traitor’s” being cursed at them. He then announced he’d be going to the house in Godric’s Hollow to retrieve their belongings – surprising James and Sirius into silence. 

Lily and James took the farthest room on the second floor, it was the largest which left plenty of room for a crib for Harry, and it had their own washroom. Sirius held the bags containing your things and watched as you inspected the other rooms, allowing you to choose next.

“Which room do you suppose Remus would like?” You asked him.

“Vix, it doesn’t matter. You choose.”

“If he has plants, maybe this room? It would get nice light in the evenings; I don’t think he’d appreciate the morning light.” You mused as if he hadn’t said anything at all. 

Sirius couldn’t even celebrate the fact that you seemed to correctly remember something about Remus before he nagged you. “Y/N, for the love of Merlin, pick a room.” 

“Well, which room are you taking?”

Sirius paused. “What?”

“Which room will you take?” 

Sirius rubbed the back of his neck. “I have my old room upstairs. I was just going to stay there.” 

You paused. “You aren’t going to stay down here? With us?” The ‘with me?’ was unspoken but Sirius heard it anyway. 

“Oh, right. No, of course. Erm.” He looked at the three rooms. It appeared you had already decided the middle room was Remus’ – what with the sunlight for the cat or the plants or the sleeping or what-not. There were two other rooms kiddie-corner to each other. The one at the end of the hall was the largest of the two, and had windows on two walls, versus just the one wall containing windows in the other room. 

“I think I’ll take this one.” He said, motioning to the smaller room. It was directly across the hall from the washroom, which was beside the last room – your room – which meant he would be close by. 

“Okay.” You nodded, looking into the room you essentially forced Sirius into picking for you. “I’ll take this one then.” You smiled at him as if you chose it for yourself.

“Good choice, gorgeous.” He said as he placed your bags on the four-poster bed in the middle of the room. “Can’t wait to see what Lil’s comes up with for this place – all the Slytherin green needs to go.” 

You hummed and looked around the dark room. “I don’t know, the snakes and skulls are really warm and inviting, Sirius. Don’t fix what ain’t broken.” You finished the sentence in a poorly done southern American accent.

The two of you quipped back and forth about the décor in various accents as you unpacked your bags. Sirius found the scene to unbelievably domestic and lovely, basking in the effervescent glow that was your company until you both retired for bed.

Sirius pushed the door open as quietly as he could and stole a glance at you; your breathing was even as you slept curled up in the fetal position on the bed where he’d left you several hours ago. 

With a sigh, Sirius made his way down the stairs to the large parlour room – not coincidentally the one he knew had his late father’s liquor stored in an antique bar cart. He knew he shouldn’t – James and Lily fussed over him for months after you went missing, watching him spiral into himself as he tried to drink away his issues. He had to work hard not to end up completely dependent on alcohol – and it still wasn’t enough for him to stay in his supervisor’s good graces. 

“You’re a good Auror, Sirius, and a mighty strong wizard – but this is getting out of control, and I cannot allow you to continue putting the rest of my staff at risk.” Moody had told him, and he was placed on a medical leave until James could confirm to Moody that he had gone a full four weeks without a drink. 

Sirius sat with a crystal glass of fire whiskey and cast a quick incendio to light the fireplace. I feel like the ghost of my father he thought darkly. The Black’s were all basically carbon copies of each other – the only difference between the two Black sons and Walburga was that they had their father’s silver eyes. If Kreacher walked in now, he’d probably think he was looking at a down-and-out younger Orion Black, if Orion Black ever wore checkered pyjama pants and a band tee. 

The fire whiskey was leaving a comfortable warmth in his stomach and esophagus as he leaned his head back against the chair. He felt so incredibly guilty. 

Guilty for trusting Peter. Guilty for ever thinking the spy could be anyone but him. Guilty for believing you to be dead all of this time – when he could have been looking for you, should have been looking for you. Guilty to shouting your business in front of your friends. Guilty for ever introducing Peter to you. Guilty. Guilty. Guilty.

His musings were interrupted by a gentle knock on the parlour room doorframe. His eyes shot open, and he pointed his wand toward the disturbance, only to find the silhouette of you donned in pyjama shorts and a pullover jumper. He sighed in relief and unceremoniously tossed his wand back onto the side table. 

“I didn’t mean to frighten you.” You offered quietly. 

“No worries, love. I think everyone’s a touch jumpy these days.” He muttered, taking another sip from his glass. 

You surveyed him from the door for a few moments before moving to sit in the matching wingback chair beside him, separated by only a small table. 

“Couldn’t sleep?” You asked.

Sirius hummed, “Not well. Not for the last five months. Maybe longer.”

You nodded in agreement as you watched the flames dance in the fireplace. You hadn’t seen Sirius like this – not since you’ve been back, at least – but something about this mood of his felt familiar to you.

“Are you alright?” 

Sirius laughed humourlessly. “The captive of an evil terrorist organization is asking me if I am okay because I happened to have my feelings hurt?” 

He looked over at you, expecting to find signs of frustration or annoyance at his flippancy and obvious deflection. But - like he should have expected - all he saw was patience and understanding, and it broke him. 

He hiccupped loudly and put his elbows on his knees, holding his face in his hands. 

“I’m sorry.” He whispered miserably. 

“What is it you’re apologizing for?” You asked quietly. 

“For losing you. For allowing it to happen. For introducing you to Pete. For trusting him with any of you. For believing you were dead. For feeling at all sorry for myself because I simply missed you whilst you were out there fighting for your fucking life. For telling you any of this.” He moaned.

You chuckled softly. “You do realize you’re apologizing on behalf of a lot of other people right now, right?” 

Sirius raised his head to look at you.

“Don’t let them off the hook that easily.” You added seriously.

“What are you talking about?”

“You’re apologizing for the way Peter treated me as if it was your fault – by doing so, you’re relieving him of an awful lot of responsibility.” You stated simply. Sirius watched the flames dance in your eyes as you watched the fire. 

“You believed me to be dead, and you mourned me – that’s not a punishable offence, Sirius. In fact, I think I’d likely be miffed if you hadn’t seemed affected at all.”

Sirius smirked at that.

“And finally, you don’t need to apologize for telling me things when I was the one who asked you to.” 

Sirius shook his head. “I’m supposed to be the one taking care of you.” He muttered. 

“You can do that tomorrow.” You stated plainly with a shrug. 

“Thank you.”

“No problem.” 

You sat in companionable silence as you both watched the fire. It wasn’t often Sirius found himself to be comfortable with silence and empty moments. Silence growing up always meant room for scrutiny – or it was due to his parents ignoring him to teach him a lesson. But it had always been so, incredibly refreshing with you. He always felt safe with you when neither of you felt the need to say anything at all, and just exist together in silence. 

“At the meeting, you asked me if we were just friends before.” Sirius asked quietly. He continued when you hummed in acknowledgement. “Is that because you remembered?”

You considered his question for a moment. “Perhaps a bit. I don’t necessarily remember the moments or conversations, but I think a part of me remembers the feelings.” 

Sirius hummed. “And the other bit?” He prodded as he turned to look at you. You smirked in response.

“Well, you’re not exactly subtle, love.” You winked at him. 

Sirius barked a laugh. “No, I don’t think subtlety is a trait I possess.” He agreed. 

“Lucky me.” 

He stared at you for a long while.

“I don’t know how good at it I was.” He admitted. 

“At what?”

“At loving you.”

You both let that hang in the air as you held each other’s gaze. 

“But it was the best thing about me – getting to love you; being loved by you.” He added. 

“That’s what woke me up.” 

Sirius furrowed his brows. “Hm?” 

You turned your gaze back to the fire. 

“In my dream – or I suppose it was a memory. You and I were fighting; I accused you of only loving yourself. You laughed before you said ‘Actually, Princess, I hate myself. The only person worth love here is you.’”. 

Sirius remembered that fight. It was after you had finally started talking to him again after the Worst Day of His Life™. You both decided to hash out exactly what happened that night with the stupid eyelash batting Hufflepuff that ended with you sleeping in Lily and Remus’ embrace after they had to clean up his mess. 

(The boys dormitory, Hogwarts)

“It doesn’t matter, Sirius. What happened, happened, and it’s in the past.”

“It does matter though, because it hurt you.”

You rolled your eyes. “No, it doesn’t matter; I’m over it and it clearly meant nothing to you.” 

“Don’t do that.”

“Do what?”

“Decide what means something to me.” 

“I didn’t, Sirius. You did. That night – you decided what I meant to you, which apparently wasn't much. It’s fine, you’re allowed to sleep with whoever you want. The relationship clearly meant more to me than it did to you – that was my mistake.” 

“You weren’t mistaken!” 

“Then why wasn’t it me!?” You finally shouted at him, tears begging to fall from your lower lash line. 

Sirius didn’t have an answer for that. You scoffed at his lack of response and wiped angrily at your face. 

“I don’t know why we’re even doing this.” 

“Because it’s important.”

“It’s not important. It’s history. I’m over it.”

“Don’t say that. Don’t say you’re over it.” The ‘over me’ in Sirius’ plea was left unsaid.

“Well, I’m not going to lie to you, Sirius.”

“I just want things to go back to the way they were before. What can I do to fix this?” 

“There’s nothing to fix, Sirius.”

“Bullshit.” 

You stayed quiet.

“So, what? Am I not worth it then? Am I not worth fighting for?” He accused. Your eyes narrowed at him.

“Sirius, that’s not fair.”

“You’re not giving me anything else to go off here!” 

“What about me!?” You shouted. “I need to look after myself for a change, Sirius. Because what all of this has taught me is that the only person you’re truly able to love is yourself.”

Sirius couldn’t help himself. He began to laugh; a real, loud belly laugh that began to hurt his sides. 

“What the fuck is so funny?” 

“You’re so far from the mark you can’t even see it anymore.” He laughed as he collected himself. “You couldn’t be more wrong. In fact, Princess, I hate myself. The only person worth love here is you.”

(present)

Sirius sighed. “Why couldn’t your first memory of me be me doing something awesome; like the time I caught you when you fell off your broom or something.” 

You laughed. “I had bruises from your death grip after that fall for weeks. And you were so annoying – you would hardly let me walk down the hallway without your constant supervision.” 

You both seemed startled at your recounting the memory, but neither commented on it.

“Well excuse me, love. What makes you think I should trust you on the moving staircases with your nose shoved into a book if you couldn’t even handle a simple flight session on a school broom a mere twenty feet off the ground, 

“Oh please, I didn’t have my nose shoved into a book.”

“You did too.” 

“And I was definitely at least fifty feet off the ground – probably more.”

“Nope, wrong again.”

“Stop gaslighting me.”

“Must be exhausting being wrong all the time.” 

“You son of a bitch.” 

The two of you laughed; the familiarity of the banter and joking felt like a warm hug for you both. You fell into a companionable silence until the crackling of the fire was interrupted by a yawn you tried unsuccessfully to suppress. 

“Come on, love. Let’s get you back to bed.” Sirius said as he stood, standing in front of you and offering you his hand. 

You jokingly whined but allowed yourself to be pulled up by the black-haired man. 

“You look like a hockey player” You blurted as you walked hand-in-hand up the stairs. 

“Pardon me?” Sirius asked incredulously. 

You ran your fingers through his hair, and he relished in the feeling. “The hair cut – it’s like a hockey player’s; they call it a ‘flow’.” 

“A flow?” He smirked. 

“Mhm.” 

“Do you like it?” He asked, suddenly self-conscious.

“Love it.” You offered immediately as if it was the most obvious answer. 

You paused at your respective bedroom doors, neither seemingly wanting to part ways. Well, Sirius knew he didn’t, and he assumed the tightening of your hold on his hand meant that you felt the same. 

He wanted to hold you. He wanted to wrap you up in bed and stay there with you until the world ended. He wanted your hands to be fused together so that he’d never have to be without you by his side ever again. But he also didn’t want to push you; this was your call – he would let you choose; always. 

“I don’t want to be alone.” You admitted quietly, almost as if you were embarrassed by the admission. 

Sirius gave your hand three quick squeezes – a code the two of you had made when you realized that Sirius sometimes struggled to express his feelings verbally. 

“Three taps or squeezes means ‘I love you.’” You had said to him simply.

“Babe, every breath I take means ‘I love you.’” He countered before placing a searing kiss to your lips. 

“Funny, that. Neither do I.” He replied.

“Stay with me?” You asked him, eyes shyly meeting his.

“I’d love nothing more.” He said, as he placed a soft kiss on your forehead. “Come on, love. Let’s try to get some sleep.” 

James had tossed and turned all night, waking up in cold sweats. He had been eager each time to change Harry’s diaper or do a feeding, bouncing him a little longer than strictly necessary just to avoid having to be alone with his own thoughts again. But by the third time he woke Lily up in a panic, she’d kicked him out of the room.

“Potter, I love you, but if you don’t fuck off right now, I’m going to live the rest of my life as a widow.” And with that, he was banished from their bedroom. 

He padded his way down the hallway, poking his head into the other doors. The room in the middle of the hallways was vacant; probably Moony’s he mused. The next room was also empty, but the sheets were disturbed as if someone had been sleeping in here, but also couldn’t sleep. 

He poked his head into the last room and spotted two figures curled up in the bed, holding onto each other as if one of them could float away at any moment. 

There was a voice in James’ head that told him he should leave them; they were likely having just as hard a time sleeping as he was. Also, it’d be weird to join them. However, there was a louder voice in James’ head that was screaming to climb into bed with them; so that’s the one he listened to. James had never been very good with boundaries. 

He crawled onto the other side of Sirius and slid under the covers. 

“Are you serious right now?” He heard his mate mutter groggily. 

James smirked as he curled up behind him. “No, you’re Sirius.” 

Sirius groaned. “Five points from Gryffindor for the terrible joke that only I’m allowed to make, and another five points for touching me with your cold ass feet.” But he didn’t tell James to leave, so he took that as a win.

“How’s she?” He asked quietly. 

“So good, considering.” Sirius answered.

“I can’t believe him...” James started quietly, but he needn’t finish; they both knew who he was talking about.

Sirius took a deep breath. “I feel, guilty. Bad. Y/N says I shouldn’t.”

“Of course she would, she’s perfect.” James offered easily. 

Sirius smiled into the top of your sleeping head. “She is.” He agreed.

“I can’t believe she survived, all that time.”

The two men sat, marvelling at your perseverance. “I’m dying to know who her allies were.”

Sirius hummed. “Me too. I don’t know how to feel about them yet.”

James nodded. “That’s okay, I don’t much know how to feel about a lot of things.”

Sirius snorted and then tensed, worried about waking you, but your breath remained even. 

“Do you blame me?”

Sirius eyes flew open at that.

“Pardon?”

James sighed before repeating himself. “Do you blame me, for Pete?”

“What about him.”

“Well, I’ve been wondering, would you and Remus ever had made friends with him had I not dragged him along with us?”

Sirius laughed. “Okay, if it were left up to Remus, no one would have ever talked to him ever and he would’ve made exactly zero friends, so I don’t think you’re asking the right questions.”

“Pads...”

“No. Of course not.” Sirius stated. James remained quiet and tense behind him. 

“I think Peter made a choice. He made a lot of choices, but he made a choice.” He said as he thought of your earlier words. Don’t let him off the hook that easily. “He has a lot to atone for.”

He could feel James nod and they sat in silence for some time, watching the lights move from the street below them.

Sirius was pretty well asleep when James spoke up again. 

“So, are you guys like, back together?”

Sirius scrunched his face. “What in the hells are you talking about?”

“You and Vix? Does this mean mom and dad are back together again?” 

“James, she doesn’t remember me.”

“Well that just can’t be true.” James argued.

“Why’s that?”

“No one who doesn’t know you would let you sleep in their bed, Pads. You look like a bad idea.”

Sirius groaned. “She remembers some things.”

“Nice! Anything about me?” James asked excitedly. 

“Yes.” You muttered sleepily. “I remember that you’re unbearably annoying.” 

Sirius beamed and pressed a kiss to your hair. 

Lily began to redecorate, though she muttered unhappily the entire time about not being able to run to the shops. Every wall was painted white, causing each space to look far brighter and bigger than it had before. James took down every framed piece of art and gave it to Harry and Sirius to paint over – what were once paintings full of dark objects and pureblood legacy were now Gryffindor logos, the Hogwarts castle, a golden snitch, owls, self-portraits, or, in Harry’s case, a big truck. (If you close your eyes, you can absolutely see it). 

Sirius insisted the house was still chock full of “bad vibes”, but everyone else already felt less suppressed. 

Your memories were slowly returning to you, and much to everyone’s chagrin and to his absolute delight, Remus seemed to be the first of your friends you completely unravelled. 

“You’ve got to be kidding me!” James cried.

“I’ve never been so offended in my life.” Sirius muttered.

Lily refused to speak on the matter...but she also (playfully) refused to speak a word to you at all.

“I mean, really, what’s Moons got that I don’t?” Sirius whined as he watched the golden coloured orb on your scan get accessed by the travelling lights without incident. 

“Class, obviously.” Remus claimed haughtily.

“Oh, I’ll show you class.” Sirius barked before launching himself at Remus who was sitting in an armchair with a book in his hand. 

The two boys men struggled with each other, Remus never leaving the armchair nor dropping his book, before Sirius began whining.

“Say it.” Remus said with a smirk.

“Moony!”

“Say it.”

“Uncle! Uncle!” Sirius cried and Remus released his hold on his arm. 

“Real classy boys.” Lily said with a roll of her eyes. 

It had been about a week since Vix had been home and it was about a week until the next full, so Remus could not figure out why he felt so itchy. 

“Maybe you’ve got fleas.” James offered as he shoved roast potatoes in his mouth.

“I don’t have fleas, you sod.” Remus muttered.

“No, that’s usually a Padfoot problem.” Lily chortled

Sirius elicited a dramatic gasp and held his hand to his chest.

“I have never once in my life had flea’s you hag.”

“Don’t call my wife a hag!”

“Then tell her not to act like one!”

“Can we not do this at the dinner table?” You moaned with a roll of your eyes. Both men stopped the antics and looked down at their plates, shame faced. 

“Sorry mum.” They chorused. 

You smirked and looked over to Remus, who still looked unsettled. “It’s not usual for you to get like this, this far from the moon.” You commented.

“No.” Remus muttered miserably. “I don’t know, something just feels off.” 

“Our world has been flipped upside down multiple times this week. I think it will take some time for us to get our bearings again.” Lily admitted.

The adults nodded in agreement; Harry shook his head violently. 

“No? You don’t think so Haz?” James asked his son.

“No!” Harry squealed happily, lifting a handful of crushed roast potatoes in his hand.

“Don’t mind him. That’s his favourite word right now.” Lily explained. 

“Is miss finished?” Kreacher’s voice appeared beside you, causing you to jump in your seat.

“Oh!” You breathed, holding a hand to your chest. “Uhm, yes. Kreacher, thank you.”

The house-elf grunted and took your plate to the sink, before returning and pulling your chair out for you. James and Sirius shared a look at the odd behaviour.

“What are you doing, Kreacher?” Sirius asked.

You looked just as confused as Kreacher helped you stand.

“Kreacher has been asked to retrieve the mudblood.” He said plainly, and with a snap of his fingers, the two of you were gone. 

Continue to part five here.

#sirius black #sirius black x you #sirius black x reader #marauders au #marauders fanfiction #marauders era #marauders x reader #first wizarding war #first wizarding war fanfic #reader insert #escapism #self insert #canon divergence #hurt/comfort #sirius black hurt/comfort #sirius black fic #sirius black one shot #sirius black blurb #sirius black ficlet

[thelighthousestale]

Peter Pettigrew Headcanons

He came from a working-class family. Raised by a single mum

He doesn’t know his father

While he did not grow up in a blood supremacist family he grew up with the same prejudices and assumptions that many wizarding families have about muggles. He finds them odd and different. 

Peter was one of those kids who lit ants on fire and threw rocks at people while standing on bridges. Being mean = power = being important

Definitely heard his mum or grandparents say muggle-borns have it easy or get extra benefits from the government (which isn’t true) and that’s why Peter’s mum has to work so hard.

Very excited to befriend Sirius and James because of their families' positions in wizarding society. He’ll be cool and popular by association

Yes, Sirius family are dicks to him but he doesn’t understand why he’d give up such a cush life and run away. Thinks Sirius doesn’t know how lucky he has it

Has always enjoyed playing mind games with his friends and other people to make himself have better favor in group dynamics

Was always the best at getting out of detention and coming up with lies on the spot

Made the rudest jokes out of the marauders 

He isn’t dumb. He just isn’t good at school. He became an animagus at 15. He is powerful, OK? Upset that no one sees it and he can’t really brag about being an illegal animagus.

Really likes that he’s the one that gets to push the knob on the whomping willow. Makes him feel indispensable.

James and Sirius mature in 6th and 7th year and their jokes aren’t so cruel anymore. Peter is caught off guard when they start (lightly) calling him out on some of his jokes. (I thought you’d find it funny? Why aren’t you laughing anymore? What, James you get a girlfriend and you can't be fun anymore?)

The slowdown in bullying is also combined with James, Remus, and Sirius's political awakening and further interest in fighting against Voldemort. Peter starts to feel alienated from their discussions. Peter is a-political at best

And like yes, James, dark magic is bad but isn’t it also cool? Like did you hear about the man who turned a bunch of dead bodies into snakes? Or did you hear about the spell that turns your guts inside out? Isn’t that impressive?? I bet you could learn that spell James, you’re powerful enough, right?

After Hogwarts Sirius and James live off their family money and devote themselves to the order full time. After Remus gets fired from a job James starts supporting him financially. Peter doesn’t have the luxury (looks like werewolves get benefits just like muggle-borns. Poor Pete is always left out)

Pete gets a job at the quidditch league offices which he thinks will be lots of fun and exciting, maybe he can swing tickets for him and his friends

But the job is really boring. He is tracking how much teams spend and data entry is the worst.

His order assignments are just as dull. He doesn’t go out on duels or covert operations. Dumbledore instructs him to get intell on Ministry offficals and Peter grows resentment, he wants to be more useful like his friends.

He gets further separate from his core group of friends as James marries Lily and eventually goes into hiding (peter thinks James is foolish for getting Lily pregant. way to mess up our fun, James!), Remus is doing super secret werewolf stuff, Sirius is off on his own order missions plus becoming increasingly protective of the potters. 

Peter starts meeting up with people at work, not death eaters but just a few people with storng ideas, and he’s like yeah, these guys are right muggle-borns and half-breeds are ruining our society

And he doesn’t hate Lily and Remus, no they are seperate from the developing idelogy. 

But then after a while his intell gathering and workmate meet-ups start to become his only social settings. And he is agreeing more and more with what they are saying

And he impresses the people he is gathering intell on with some of his knowledge on dark spells (not that he’s every performed them. He’s just interested in reading about them)

Its been a long time since Sirius and James found him impressive or amusing 

He goes to a couple of meet ups, and then a couple more

He enjoys these meetings more than order meetings. He doens’t feel underappreciated. 

He gets invited to a bigger meeting and oops its got full on known death eaters attending

James and Lily are fully in hiding. Voldemort is wining the war. 

Peter thinks he might as well just do what he needs to do to survive, everyone else is doing the same. But he's not going to be like James and hide like a coward.

And if he is going to survive he is going to be useful, important. In a better position than he was in the order. And then he’ll use that new position to help his friends when the war is over. He is so clever!

He willingly becomes a spy for Voldemort. He enjoys it. Its the best he ever felt about himself. He has secrets and information. He’s important.

He gets tested on his loyalty and is told to kill order members.

He actually enjoys murdering people (he is a serial murder in the books!) Reminds him of the same feeling he got when he threw rocks off of bridges but bigger.

He continues to climb up the Death Eater power structure. He enjoys watching the chaos unfold in The Order as they can’t figure out who the spy is

James asks him to be his secret keeper. He has a choice to make and he shows who he really is. He chooses power and manipulation over protecting people he used to (supposedly) love

And while this was all going on its important to remember that James, Remus, and Sirius all would have died for Peter. He was their friend. The betrayal is painful. The radicalization went unnoticed

#harry potter #marauders era #the maruaders #mwpp #peter pettigrew #wormtail #harry potter meta #harry potter headcanon

[saintsenara]

Do you think there’s any situation in which Sirius/Snape could work as a ship if James Potter was alive/around?

I love both Sirius/Snape and Sirius/James (platonic, romantic and everything in between) as ships so I’d love to see a universe in which the 3 of them have a lovely time together but I dunno if I can picture it. I can mainly see Sirius/Snape working with James and Lily dead and Sirius post Azkaban because it really brings him off his pedestal and leaves that shared grief and longing for that intensity of companionship.

I guess part of the problem is trying to imagine Sirius being able to even remotely care about or prioritise someone else with James in the picture, even if James is only giving platonic on his end. But then doubly so if that person was someone James had a massive rivalry with and doesn’t want near his wife. (Although if he knew Snape wasn’t interested in Lily like that maybe he’d chill out about it? Or would only child syndrome kick in and he’d hate him even more for trying to “steal” Sirius from him because it would be really shocking and maybe low key traumatic for James to have any less than 110% of Sirius’ attention…again even if they were only platonic… 🤔)

If it was going to work I could see it maybe more after Hogwarts when they’ve all grown up a bit and James and Lily are wrapped up in their family and Sirius is a bit adrift at adjusting to not being able to have all of James all of the time.

The closest I’ve seen to making something like it work was a fic where Snape was horribly tortured for killing Peter in front of Voldemort to stop him telling the secret and it left him vegetative for years and the Potters cared for him and eventually Sirius took over so they could go live their married lives. I was really interested in where they were going with it and pretty sold on that being a situation in which it could end up all happy families but unfortunately the fic was kinda preslash and stopped before it explored how things would go romantically for Sirius/Snape after Snape regained his consciousness.

Would love to hear your thoughts on any scenarios in which you think the 3 of them could get along swimmingly!

My other thought was maybe if Sirius had been put in Slytherin and James decided to talk his way into Slytherin to be together, they might eventually adopt Snape into their wider friendship group for his dry wit the way they did Remus. I feel like James was waiting his whole life to have both a best friend and his own gang and would make one wherever he was with the best of what he had available (lbr Peter is hardly a stellar pick), and without the “he’s evil because he’s Slytherin” divide they could potentially find the Dark curses Sev knows fun/useful against whoever else they decide to bully instead, might notice in the shared dorm how poor he is and get a pity thing going like they did for Remus’ werewolf issue (which Snape’s pride would hate but he’d probably milk knowing how he was with Lucius?), and if Snape was gay and as devoted to a crush on Sirius as he was to the canon one on Lily and therefore willing to do some wing maning for James with Lily to keep in James and Sirius good graces, it could really cement his value as a pal….and if Snape had other options for well connected friends who could get him out of Cokeworth (picturing Fleamont setting up summer internships for James’ unfortunate looking poor but impeccably mannered pal at Sleekeasys R and D department 🥹) I’m sure Snape would be happy to not bother with the blood supremacist half of his year who want his childhood best friend dead (unless we think he joined to be in with them as a way to keep Lily safe, but I think that would be more a rationale he’d give himself or her later to justify his behaviour) ……..but anyway even if all of this elaborate scenario could happen so that the 3 of them would be pally, I still can’t picture Sirius being able to love/fancy someone more than James if James is right there, even if it’s only platonic on James’ end.

Unless I guess we take a reading of canon that Sirius was so mean to Snape because he fancied him madly and was furious about it, or because he could sense the queerness in him he hated/was being told by family to squash out in himself. Then maybe they’d have a special type of connection that could be powerful in a way Sirius wouldn’t be able to share with a straight James? Would that be enough though for Sirius never see one without the other Black? 🤔

I do think if that was the friendship group and they made Snape the secret secret keeper instead of Peter James and Lily might have lived! (And Snape might have let himself get killed keeping the secret 🥲) …although that said if Peter had an inkling James Potter might go to Slytherin he probably wouldn’t have fought the hat so hard and would have still been in the gang too!

I’ve really gone on a tangent here but yeah so interested in any scenarios you could see it working, I think about this a lot and I love the way you think about HP things! 👏

thank you very much for the ask, anon!

this is a question which i've wondered about for a while, which i'm going to answer with a tentative... yes.

because i do agree with you that one of the things which makes snack-in-the-90s really work is their shared grief over the loss of james and lily [and their shared guilt and desire to punish themselves for the role they each played in their deaths] and how it contributes to them being one of the series' most interesting narrative mirror pairings.

but it's equally true that they're narrative mirrors even without the grief aspect simply because of their mirrored love - whether you wish to interpret this as platonic or not - for one half of james and lily, and the quiet devastation [even though sirius expresses this very differently to snape] they feel when the two pair off.

and so i do think - in a world in which both james and lily survive [i don't think it can be either/or] - there is the potential for snape and sirius to find themselves drawn together by a grief which is less profound than that caused by james and lily's deaths, but is still transformational in a way that i think is often overlooked in fandom: the grief of realising that the person you love doesn't feel the same way.

because i love platonic prongsfoot and platonic snily as much as the next girl, and i think that the grief i'm describing can apply just as much to platonic love as to romantic love.

but i prefer - and, indeed, i'm on the record as being convinced this is the text's actual intention - to read both snape's love for lily and sirius' love for james as romantic.

and - obviously - the intensity of this feeling prevents either snape or sirius getting a grip while they're in their teens [especially if they're both also grappling with the idea that they're not straight - i'm afraid i've never bought the fanon that the wizarding world is more enlightened when it comes to sexuality]. it makes perfect sense that - as you say - it's impossible for the nineteen-year-old sirius to imagine caring about someone the way he care about james, and to convince himself that the only way he can live his life is to spend decades pining nobly from afar, never letting on how much his heart aches.

but one of the great tragedies of the canonical snape and sirius is that they get stuck in a state of arrested development from their lives - essentially - stopping when they're both twenty-one. there's an inherent pettiness to their interactions in canon - the obsessing over schoolboy experiences, the fact that snape finds himself stuck at school and sirius finds himself stuck in his childhood home - which other characters clearly don't quite understand [dumbledore saying to harry at the end of order of the phoenix that sirius was too sensible to be goaded by snape seems dismissive in the context of what we - the readers - have seen, but it makes perfect sense that - from dumbledore's perspective - a thirty-six-year-old man wouldn't still care about playground beef from twenty years ago.]

in a world where james and lily live, snape and sirius get a chance to act their actual ages - and with that, sirius gets to learn how to accept that his role in james' life will change as his best friend settles into being a husband and father and snape either gets to learn how to stop pining for lily from afar or how to start trying to make amends for his treatment of her.

and james and lily also get to grow up too - to recognise how their priorities towards their friends will change as they form a family of their own and to see their school days [and their behaviour during them] more objectively the further removed from them they become. james at eighteen would rather die than have anything less than 110% of sirius' attention. james at thirty has other things to worry about.

i think that it would only work in a scenario where snape and sirius encountered each other again after having left hogwarts [i like the slytherin!james suggestion - and i'd be interested to see how you'd write it - but i personally think that there's no way on earth james is having snape anywhere near him until he's - for want of a better term "won" their rivalry over lily]. but i also think it would only work if that scenario was decades after they graduated, rather than years, and that the two don't meet again until they're - at least - in their early forties.

i think you could do something really quite interesting with james in that setting - as he realises, as his children reach adulthood and start to fly the nest, that sirius is chronically single and decides the project he wants for his middle age is to find his friend true love.

never expecting that his friend will bail from a date he arranges with a lovely woman and end up hiding in the leaky cauldron talking to snape - but then being mature enough [after some running around screaming "snape? snape?" at lily] to think that if sirius is happy, then he is.

and on this point, both sirius and snape canonically struggle to be realistic about how they see themselves and their worth - for example, in how they both refuse to believe that they could successfully atone for their roles in causing james and lily's deaths. when this is combined with the fact that sirius grew up in a community which is obsessed with blood and lineage - and how that blood and lineage is continued - and snape grew up with his primary masculine role-model being a violent man who was presumably also a homophobe, i do think that both of them would find it difficult to be open about their sexuality, especially since - in a world where they get to live normally after 1981 - they would be starting to understand themselves as queer during the aids crisis [which i refuse to believe doesn't impact the wizarding world, because i loathe the implication of canon that wizards are resistant to muggle diseases].

i think you can plausibly write them as both still in the closet in the 90s/00s - and for sirius especially to be worried about james' reaction if he found out he was interested in men. [which is a dimension often left out of things which examine sirius as queer and james as straight. lots of queer men worry - sometimes unnecessarily, sometimes, sadly, justifiably - that being open about their sexuality with straight male friends will cause those friends to back off from their platonic relationships due to a homophobic fear that queer men will automatically interpret platonic physical and emotional intimacy as romantic.]

but - whatever else he is - james clearly isn't a bigot. and i think he could once again get over the fact that sirius has shacked up with snape [snape?] in order to be proud that sirius was finally comfortable with who he is.

[and yes, i do genuinely think that sirius and snape's canonical vibe can be read as having some level of sexual attraction in it - they are both just so obsessed with each other that it's giving "why do i have this hyper-intense need to get in this other boy's face oh wait that's why"...]

#asks answered #asenora meta #asenora's opinions on ships #starprince #snirius #sirius black #severus snape

[hollowed-theory-hall]

The Riddle of Tom Riddle: Part 1/?

(Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7)

The Death Tool of Voldemort's Wars

So, I did say I'll make this post somewhere, so here it is.

When trying to make sense of Voldemort’s behavior in the books, I noticed that the two wars were actually very different. How they were waged, how many people died, and who was most targeted along with Voldemort's goals.

(Because I mentioned it, I'll just say Voldemort’s behavior in the book is really weird and somewhat contradictory, but I found a way to explain that. Consider this the second post on my way to analyze Voldemort after the Horcruxes one)

The Wizarding Population in the UK

The first step to figuring out how bad the wars with Voldemort actually were is to know the size of the wizarding population in the UK. Numbers of deceased don't mean much without being able to calculate percentages.

If there are 40 students a year at Hogwarts in 1990s → 400 wizards and witches between ages 10-19

Account for fewer births during and right after the war with Grindelwald in the 1930s-1940s, and the war with Voldemort in the 1970s

Account for longer life acceptancy (Average of 130)

And we get an estimate of something like this:

With wizards being around 0.01% of the muggle population in any country.

The population in Britian in 1991 was 57,359,454, making the wizarding population 57,359*0.01% =~ 5,700

The population in Ireland in 1991 was 5.1 M, making the Irish wizarding population about 510.

So as a rough estimate, we'll say there were ~6,200 wizards and witches in the UK and Ireland together in 1991

Probably less though considering JKR killed most of Harry's grandparents' generation with Dragon Pox....

By the same logic above in the 1970s the Wizarding population in Britain and Ireland was ~5,600 + ~300 = ~5,900 wizards and witches.

So, now we have the estimated size of the population and we can gage how much damage these wars actually caused.

So, I may have compiled a list of all war casualties from both wars. I will not place the full details here (like the exact year each died), but I'll mention sides, who they were killed by, and any other information relevant to understanding the war's influence on wizarding society, and what we can learn from it about Voldemort's intentions.

For these lists:

(M) - muggle (MB) - muggleborn (PB) - pure-blood (HB) - half-blood (O) - other $ - Death Eater or affiliated ^ - Order of the Pheonix member or affiliated Italics - killed against Voldemort's orders

The First War: Surprisingly Targeted

Killed By Voldemort Personally:

~4 unnamed goblins (O)

Dorcas Meadowes (PB/HB)^

James Potter (PB)^

Lily Potter (MB)^

Killed by Death Eaters:

Mr. Bones (PB)^

Mrs. Bones (PB)^

Robert McGonagall (PB)

Marlene McKinnon (PB)^

~4 more unnamed McKinnons (PB)^

Mrs McGregor (M)

Douglas McGregor (M)

2 McGregor Children (M)

Caradoc Dearborn (PB/HB)^

Dean Thomas’ Father (PB)

Edgar Bones' Wife (PB)^

Edgar Bones (PB)^

~2 Edgar Bones' children (PB)^

Benji Fenwick (PB/HB)^

Frank Longbottom (PB)^ - Not dead, but counts

Alice Longbottom (PB)^ - Not dead, but counts

Fabian Prewett (PB)^

Gideon Prewett (PB)^

Killed by the Order of the Pheonix & Aurors:

Evan Rosier (PB)$

Wilkes (PB)$

+ 13 muggles killed by Peter Pettigrew on October 31st, 1981

+ Regulus Black who died in the cave with the Inferi

This lands us at 45 casualties (including the Longbottoms) for the first Wizarding War. Now, let's look more closely at the numbers.

Not counting the muggles and creatures other than wizards lands us at 24

24/5,900 =~ 0.40% of the wizarding population was killed in the first war.

And did you notice anything interesting about the names on the list? There is only 1 muggleborn and 1 muggle family, whose death wasn't even on Voldemort's orders. What does it tell us about the war?

Well, first off, Dumbledore's idea of morality and not using dark magic and lethal curses kind of sucks. This is hardly a war, it's a massacre. 19 Order members and their families die compared to 3 Death Eaters, one of which was killed by Voldemort's creations. Moody and Mr. Weasley aren't kidding when they say the first war was rough in the fifth book. It really was, but only for their side.

The innocent casualties of people not belonging to any side in this war stand at 19 (including the 13 muggles killed by Pettigrew), and 6 (not including Pettigrew).

It's just wild how Peter Pettigrew has the most kills in this war, more than Voldemort. And it tells you a lot about Voldemort's priorities.

His priorities clearly aren't to kill all muggleborns, we can see that much. So what are his priorities? What is he actually waging a war for if it's not to kill all muggleborns like all the characters tell us?

Well, I will post a full rundown of the timeline of the first war at some point, but for now, what we know is that Voldemort is targeting the Order of the Phoenix, who opposed him. And he is in general causing chaos for the Ministry of Magic.

We know that by 1981, Voldemort practically won, with the ministry having more spies of his than any other group. The ministry was made up of Death Eaters. But we don't know of any rules he passed in this time, or moves to legalize dark magic or outlaw muggleborns — nothing like that happened.

What did happen, was that Voldemort made a cave filled with Inferi and experimented with potions (he invented the potion of despair in the cave).

It seems, more than anything, the war was there to distract the ministry or weaken it, and less about accomplishing a specific political goal. And if he was after a specific political goal, then it isn't blood purity as he isn't rounding up muggleborns like in the second war.

The low death count overall (especially when compared to the second war) is because Voldemort is there. Voldemort does not approve of unnecessary death, even muggle one:

“Nice costume, mister!” He saw the small boy’s smile falter as he ran near enough to see beneath the hood of the cloak, saw the fear cloud his painted face. Then the child turned and ran away. . . . Beneath the robe he fingered the hand of his wand. . . One simple movement and the child would never reach his mother. . . but unnecessary, quite unnecessary. . . .

(Deathly Hollows, page 295)

Voldemort himself does not like unnecessary death. He considers it and killing in rage below him at the end of the First Wizarding War. He doesn't do it himself and doesn't let his followers kill unnecessarily up until the night he kills the Potters.

What exactly Voldemort was trying to accomplish is a question I've pondered and have a few more posts about. But understanding he wasn't really after the death of all muggleborns and neither was he after control of Magical Britain, which is made very clear by the second war, is the first step to understanding him.

The Second War: Chaos Galore

Killed By Voldemort Personally:

Bertha Jorkins (PB)

Cedric Diggory (PB)

Bathilda Bagshot (PB)

Charity Burbage (PB/HB)

Alastor Moody (PB)^

Rufus Scrimgeour (PB)

German-speaking child #1 (M)

German-speaking child #2 (M)

German-speaking woman (M)

Mykew Gregorovitch (PN)

Gellert Grindelwald (HB)

Peter Pettigrew (PB/HB)$

2 Unidentified Death Eaters (PB/HB)$

Severus Snape (HB)$

Killed by Death Eaters:

Bodrick Bode (PB/HB)

Emmeline Vance (PB)^

Sirius Black (PB)^

Amalia Bones (PB)

Florean Fortesque (PB)

Mrs. Abbott (PB/HB)

Igor Karkaroff (PB)$

Montgomery (PB/HB)

4 Unidentified Muggles (M)

Gibbon (PB)$

Albus Dumbledore (HB)^

5 Unnamed muggles in Gaddley (M)

Gornuk (O)

Edward Tonks (MB)^

Dirk Cresswell (MB)

Dobby (O)

Lavender Brown (PB)^

Camelia (PB/HB)^

Vincent Crabbe (PN)$

Colin Creevey (MB)^

Remus Lupin (HB)^

Nymphadora Tonks (HB)^

Fred Weasley (PB)^

Killed by the Order of the Pheonix:

Bellatrix Lestrange (PB)$

Killed by Golden Trio:

Bogrod (O)

Tom Riddle (Voldemort) (HB)$

+ 42 more casualties for the Battle of Hogwarts.

What we see here is that this second war was much deadlier. The Battle of Hogwarts alone had more casualties than the entirety of the First War. Even if I'm generous and add 20 more dead to my estimate of the First War, it doesn't come anywhere close to the death tool of the Second War.

Now, I ask myself, why?

The Second War was much shorter, officially ongoing between May of 1996 and May of 1998 (2 years), with the First War officially waging from 1975 to October of 1981 (6 years). What was so different between the wars that caused this kind of escalation in the second one this quickly?

We see the Second War unfold, we watch how quickly the Ministry of Magic falls and the Death Eaters take over. They quickly make laws such as the Muggleborn Registry — things that didn't happen in the first war.

“Attendance is now compulsory for every young witch and wizard,” he replied. “That was announced yesterday. It’s a change, because it was never obligatory before. Of course, nearly every witch and wizard in Britain has been educated at Hogwarts, but their parents had the right to teach them at home or send them abroad if they preferred..."

(Deathly Hollows, page 182)

Lupin is talking about the Muggleborn Registry and compulsory attendance to Hogwarts — completely new things, never seen before in Britain. They weren't around the first go-around even if Voldemort had the same amount of control over the ministry (it being made up of his followers even in the 1970s). So, what changed? What's the difference?

I pondered this question, and I realized what the main difference is — Voldemort. He is different. His priorities are different.

In the second war, Voldemort doesn't show any care for the ministry, government, or unnecessary death the way he did in the First War. In the First War he limited his Death Eaters, focusing them on targeting only Order members, but in the Second War, not only did he let them loose, but he let himself loose as well.

And I'll prove just how unconcerned he is with Britain and the war during Deathly Hollows and Half-Blood Prince.

In Half-Blood Prince, when the Death Eaters break into Hogwarts to kill Dumbledore, arguably their biggest achievement in the war thus far, and where is their leader? Off, somewhere. Researching wands so he could kill Harry Potter.

And where is Lord Voldemort, leader of the Death Eaters when his followers take over the ministry and start passing the aforementioned rules? He's in Germany, tracking down the Elder Wand.

“That’s—that’s pretty, Dolores,” she said, pointing at the pendant gleaming in the ruffled folds of Umbridge’s blouse. “What?” snapped Umbridge, glancing down. “Oh yes—an old family heirloom,” she said, patting the locket lying on her large bosom. “The S stands for Selwyn. . . . I am related to the Selwyns. . . . Indeed, there are few pure blood families to whom I am not related. . . . A pity,”

(Deathly Hollows, page 225)

Voldemort is so unaware and un-present in Britain during the time he supposedly rules it, that Dolores Umbridge can strut around the ministry with the locket that is his Horcrux and holds a piece of his soul and is his Slytherin family heirloom and claim it to belong to the Selwyn family and to be hers. And she wasn't tortured horribly to death.

Yeah, Voldemort never stepped foot in the Ministry throughout Deathly Hollows. At least, not until he retrieved the elder Wand and was convinced he could kill Harry.

In the First War, Voldemort had intentions, unrelated to blood purity as they were, but intentions nonetheless. He was actually leading and had goals for the war. In the Second War, it looks like he gave up. Like he decided killing Harry Potter is the only important thing and he isn't even bothering with anything else and lets his Death Eaters do as they please.

Conclusions:

Voldemort didn't really plan to win the Second War, he didn't really care what happened to the Ministry, as long as he could kill Harry Potter whom he is quite obsessed with. Like, he's really weird about Harry Potter, and maybe I'll talk about it more in-depth, but he's obsessed with being the one to kill Harry with a wand of his own, to the point of ignoring literally everything else.

If you are going to fight an opponent that is trying to kill you, you should probably be just as willing to be lethal in turn or you'd end up massacred like the Order of the Phoenix from the 1970s....

#hp theory #hp thoughts #hp #harry potter theory #harry potter thoughts #harry potter #lord voldemort #tom marvolo riddle #hollowedtheory #overthinking #voldemort #voldemort analysis #wizarding world #first wizarding war #second wizarding war #the order of the phoenix #order of the phoenix #death eaters

[thegirlwhowrites642]

Weren’t they both insecure in DH? With Ginny giving Harry the kiss in her room for him to remember her by, and the scene with Ginny volunteering Luna instead of Cho? And Harry’s jealously of imagining someone else marrying Ginny.

[ask in reference to this]

I'm not fully sure what the question is supposed to be here, but I'll give it a try.

In DH, Harry and Ginny display possessiveness over each other. As I said in the post I linked: Harry is possessive of Ginny, and while it wasn't the point in that analysis, of course it's a mutual thing. We see it with the Cho moment, the Krum one, Harry being an idiot about Dean asking about Ginny [how could you not love Harry?].

The jealousy they display in DH though it's quite contextual to the fact they want to be together but can't. Generally speaking jealousy does not define Harry and Ginny's dynamic as we saw while they were dating but even earlier. Ginny literally gave relationship advice to Harry about Cho (borderline masochistic behavior) and Harry was very respectful of Ginny's relationship with Dean (too much if you ask me; come on, Harry, not even one snarky comment?).

Because of this, when I talked about Harry being annoyed by Ginny's friendship with Neville right after the war, I brought up elements of a very specific context, like the fact that it would be a very emotionally fragile time.

That said, I want to talk about two moments you brought up because, while they underline the idea that Harry and Ginny want to belong to each other, they are not about jelousy:

the kiss in Ginny's room

Harry imagining Ginny marrying someone else

The kiss in Ginny's room is way more complex than jealousy. For those who haven't noticed this: Ginny has a tendency to deflect pain with humor. And the veela thing is an inside joke between Harry and Ginny from the previous book.

What the kiss actually means is:

let's have a proper goodbye because you are probably going to die

but also don't die because I love you and you need to come back to me

I'm going to give you hope while you go on a masochistic journey that an old man with trust issues told you to do only with the help of two other random teenagers

That's why Harry thinks about that kiss before dying. It's a comfort of course, that's one big role Ginny has in Harry's life, but it's also in direct contrast with Harry seeing his dead family, Ginny is the family he has in life, if he can live he has someone to come back to. And so once again the author inserts the element of choice, in this case between the family who waits for him in death and the one that waits for him in life.

Harry imagining Ginny with someone else wasn't about jealousy either, even if, of course, he doesn't like this hypothetical other guy. After the fight with Ron, Harry realizes for the first time he and Ginny are probably not going to get back together because he sees no future in front of him. He can see only Voldemort, while in his head of course Ginny is obviously going to live a happy long life (Harry doesn't even want to get remotely close to the idea of Ginny dying). This is why at that moment Harry doesn't go back to Ginny despite telling her he would. He is half dead, and as long as that's true, he can't be with Ginny. The whole structure of the saga is substantially based on this: Harry can live only when he'll defeat Voldemort, he can have his future once the other is dead. And that's why the last scene of the saga is between Harry and Ginny: he got his future.

#harry x ginny