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#why didn’t Marlene get a surname
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so true, me.
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queenbirbs · 3 years
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I was the son you always had | Ethan x MC
Pairing: Ethan Ramsey x MC
Warnings: discussion of drug use, language, neglect
Word count: 4.9k
Summary: Ethan confronts Louise. Post chapter 13. 
Notes: Title taken from the Bear’s Den song “Above the Clouds of Pompeii.” 
------
The years have not been kind to Louise Ramsey.
If that’s still her surname, of course, Ethan isn’t sure. It’s what he gave Marlene for the admission forms; she had the wherewithal, at least, to not even bat an eye at the name. He’s always liked Marlene, even if attempting to curb hospital gossip is like trying to put out a fire with an eyedropper. Having been fourteen hours since she was admitted, it’s no secret that Doctor Ramsey’s mom is the OD in room 532. 
It’s the same room he’s standing in front of, trying to gather his wits. The rest of the staff look on from behind their pillars and charts, as if the art of discretion is lost on them all. Ethan stamps down on the reflex to bark and snarl at them. It’ll only stoke the flames if he does. 
“You have to turn the knob to open it.”
That tight feeling in his chest eases up a fraction. He turns to see Sloane, propped up against the wall beside him. In a sea of a thousand curious faces, her expression of concern is a welcome sight. Resisting the urge to reach for her, he opts for a look of disappointment at the joke, or attempt thereof. She answers with that gentle smile of hers, the one where the left corner of her mouth crinkles up and her dimple appears. Her gaze drifts from his and over to the window; on the other side is Louise, the pallor of her face covered in a light sheen of sweat. The hands that used to hold his as they crossed the street tremble around the pages of whatever magazine she’s pretending to read. 
“I don’t know why I’m bothering. I already know why she’s here.”
“No, you think you know why,” Sloane says, and he hates it, but he knows she’s right. “The only way to know for certain is to talk to her.” 
“And what would that conversation sound like? Hi, I’m Doctor Ramsey, the son you left without a backwards glance when he was eleven years-old. How was the turkey sandwich you had for lunch?”   
She leans her temple against the wall, her eyes glazing over in that familiar way that tells him she’s deep in thought. After the eleven hours she’s been here, thick strands have come loose from her messy bun to settle against her neck. The urge to sweep them away, to settle his hand there and massage at the tight lines is a fierce one.  
“Treat her how you would a patient. Ask her about her pain management, about her next steps once she’s discharged. That will give you a feel for her attitude towards you, and towards herself in general. It’ll give you a foundation to start with.” 
Reaching out, Sloane squeezes his arm once, then twice, before letting her hand fall away. He misses the warmth of her immediately. 
“Alright,” he sighs. “Yes, thank you, that… helps. Truly.”
Before he can work up the nerve, she beats him to his next question.
“I’ll be in the office when you’re done, if you--”
“Yes.”
That smile winks at him again as she pushes off the wall and heads down the hallway. Ethan watches her for as long as he can, until the throng of staff swallows her up. Turning back to the door, he catches Louise watching him before her eyes dart back to her magazine. She hasn’t turned the page for quite some time, and he doubts the full-page cologne ad is somehow keeping her attention. Before he has to resort to a pep talk, he turns the knob and steps inside.
Louise looks up as he closes the door behind him.
“Oh. Hello.”
“Hello,” he greets through a throat stuffed full of cotton. “I’m Doctor Ramsey. I’m here to perform a check up and see how things are going.”
Her mouth opens and closes, her eyes growing wide beneath her bangs. 
“Well, okay, yeah, but -- I mean, I know you. I know who you are. You’re my son.”
The angry retort he prepared never comes, drowned out by the roaring pulse in his ears as he picks up her chart from the foot of the bed and reads through it. 
“Yes, I’m aware.” He brushes off her words and continues in a forced monotone. “We’ve got you on lofexidine to help reduce the detox symptoms. Even with the assistance, those symptoms will likely peak in the next day or two, depending on how heavy your usage is.”
“I know.” She toys with the magazine as she speaks. “This isn’t my first rodeo.” 
Ethan lifts his gaze from the chart and looks -- really looks -- at his mother for the first time in twenty-six years. The dark brown hair she used to tease with her can of Aqua Net, making the hallway outside the bathroom smell of chemicals, is now a sallow gray. The warm arms that would hug him tight are gaunt from malnutrition. The bright face that he remembers smiling down at him, or blowing raspberries against his cheek, or peeking around his door to call him down for breakfast is no more. Pockmarks mar her skin, more visible now without the thick coat of makeup. Deep grooves circle underneath her eyes and along the curve of her cheeks, carving at her skin. 
“When did the drug use start?” he asks.
“We were at the tail end of the nineties recession, but layoffs were still happening across the company. I was lucky to keep my job, but with a forty percent cut of staff, those duties had to be distributed elsewhere.” She heaves out a sigh, a weary chuckle following after. “Being the finance manager, I was elsewhere. My coworker, Brenda, she’s the one who got me started, going on and on about how it made her feel relaxed and on top of things. I grew up in the seventies, so I’d taken an occasional trip or two with LSD. It didn’t seem so bad just to try it out. At first, it was a line or two to get through the fourteen-hour work day. Then, after a few weeks, two lines became five. And then…” she drifts off, her hand dipping from side to side.  
“Not that working those long hours helped in any way. I never got to spend time with you -- that was your father.” It’s impossible to miss the bitterness in her tone, the downward turn of her lips. “He got to play stay-at-home dad until you turned two. He got to hear your first words, watch you take your first steps. He’d tell me all about what I’d missed when I got home: how much fun you had at the park, how well you did in the spelling bee, how high you placed at the science fair. He got to be the parent, and I was just the moneymaker.” 
The dull roar in his ears changes to a shrill pitch, drowning out every sensible thought inside his head. The sob story was to be expected, but the jealous jabs at his dad are a step too far. How dare she walk back into his life and insult the man who raised him? She knew nothing about that first year. How Ethan would come home from school and spot the late notices on the kitchen table. How Ethan would creep down the hallway at night and see his dad sitting on her side of the bed, going through photographs and crying. How, three days before Christmas, the electric was shut off and his dad made the living room into their own campsite, complete with a roaring fire to cook beans on and flashlights to tell make-believe stories. 
“So you decided to skip out and miss twenty-five more years of my life?” he snaps.  
“Oh, Ethan,” she sighs, “it wasn’t like that.”
“Bullshit.”
“I had to--” she stops and drags in a breath. “I snapped, that day. I’d worked there for thirteen years, right out of high school. I got called into the boss’s office. I thought I was getting a promotion. Instead, I was reprimanded for not performing well enough. That if I didn’t shape up I’d find myself without a job at all.” Her fingers tremble with effort as she pushes her bangs aside, her glare set firmly on the tiled floor. “And then I came home -- early, because I was crying in the bathroom to avoid making a scene -- and your father… he stopped me in the kitchen. He told me that I was working myself too hard, and that I should try to take some time off to be with you two.”
She looks up at him then, sympathy for her misdeeds plainly written across her face. Ethan wonders if he’s still that good at reading his own mother, or if she’s that good of an actress.     
“Then you went to the store,” he finishes for her. “And you never came back.” 
“I went to the bank,” she corrects, as if, in the grand scheme of things, it matters. “I took out my money and got in the car and drove. I made it all the way to Richmond before a state trooper took note of my tags. After I made it clear that I’d left of my own volition, he let me go, and that was that.”
The flippant way she describes those harrowing days feels like a slap in the face. His next words are spoken through clenched teeth, as he attempts to reign in the anger that burns through him. 
“You could’ve… why didn’t you leave us a note? We both thought something terrible had happened. He never said anything in front of me, but I wasn’t stupid. I watched the news. I saw what happened to other moms who disappeared.” 
He remembers sitting in Mrs. Lemon’s living room, their next-door neighbor and his babysitter while his dad was out searching. He remembers the ticking of her crochet needles and the smell of the litter box that needed changing and the feel of the corduroy couch under his flannel pajama pants. He remembers Unsolved Mysteries playing on the box television in the corner, the host stepping out from behind a shadowy pillar to ask for his help solving a mystery. He remembers asking for a pen and paper to write to Mr. Stack and see if he could air his mom’s case.  
“I… like I said, Ethan, I just-- I snapped. I had to get out of there. Every day it felt like I was drowning, but then, seeing you, coming home to you, gave me enough air to breathe.” A wistful little smile appears, but soon falls away as she continues. “I made it all the way to Tampa and lived there for a few years with an old friend. After that, I moved around some, changed my name, tried to make something of myself.” She gives a hapless little shrug and reaches up to pull at the dry skin on her lip. “But I was hooked. Still am, I guess. And that always kept me from reaching out -- because I did think about it, Ethan. I did. 
“I tried rehab a few times, and the other moms -- their children wrote them letters and came for visiting hours. They talked about all the wonderful things they were going to do together once they stopped using.” Louise yanks at her lip again, cursing when her fingers come away flecked with blood. “But when I thought about writing to you, the thought of you seeing me like that stopped me. And the longer I stayed, the more I watched those families stop visiting and the letters stop coming. And it seemed… pointless.”        
Odd, he finds, that she refused to reach out over fears that he would abandon her. He wonders if she rehearsed her lines beforehand, or if she’s this good at ad-lib. The misty eyes and pitiful expression only serve to enhance the performance; she wears a mask, and her face grows to fit it. Buried underneath all that disappointment and resentment, though, is the what if. What if she’s telling the truth? She could have easily been another dejected workaholic that fell victim to her vices and sacrificed her relationships in the process. As a physician, Ethan knows how tight of a hold addiction can have on a person. 
“It’s different,” Sloane had said in the on-call room, those bright eyes of hers shadowed with experience, “when it’s not an article or a case study, but your own parent -- someone you’re meant to rely on.”
But he can’t -- won’t, even -- play devil’s advocate, not now. Not with the mother who walked right out of his life and never looked back. 
Wandering over to the window, Ethan watches his city move below him; people and cars and buses and trucks going and going while he wastes time here. 
“For four days, I didn’t believe Dad.” Unwilling to turn back to Louise, he searches for city hall as he speaks, finding an odd comfort in the ugly, familiar structure. “I thought he was lying when he said you left. He told me you were okay, but that you decided you needed some space from him. I think that early on… we-- he thought you would come back. Then four days became a month, then three, then school started, and when I had friends over I had to explain how it was only Dad now and that you’d left. That no, we hadn’t heard from you, but no, we didn’t think you were dead.”
Though, in his weakest hours, during that first year of her being gone, Ethan had thought about it. Would that look of pity be easier to handle if the concept of choice was taken out of the equation? If cancer or a car accident had taken her away, would that be more palatable for his friends to understand, rather than her choosing to abandon him? He could’ve been the kid making lame dead mom jokes, instead of the kid hiding his tears and fumbling his way through an explanation on why he didn’t need to make a Mother’s Day card this year, Miss Riddleberger. 
“You can imagine my surprise,” he says, “when Dad told me you were back in town and wanting to reconnect.” 
“Because I -- I do want to, Ethan,” she pleads, her voice cracking over his name. “I’ve spent all these years wondering about you. But look at you! You’ve done so well for yourself. Your father, he told me about how well you did in college, that you graduated the top of your class at medical school.”
“That was nice of him.” The reply is sour in his mouth, bitter and painful. “Did he also tell you that when I was thirteen, I fell off my bike and broke my arm and, despite everything, I cried for you? Or when everyone else was getting graduation photos with their parents, Dad had to stop another family to get our picture taken?” 
Louise’s breath hitches artfully; he imagines that she’s clutching a hand over her heart, the picture of a distraught mother. 
“No, he… didn’t tell me about any of that.” 
“No,” he agrees with a humorless chuckle, “no, I don’t imagine he would have. I imagine he also didn’t mention that I saw you leaving your motel.”
She makes a noise of interest at that. “Then,” Ethan continues as he finally turns back to face her, “my friend was in a nearby market and watched you shoplift. Oh, but before that, she overheard your interesting phone conversation.” 
Louise studies him for a long moment and he feels eleven years-old again, sitting on that corduroy couch, hoping and hoping and hoping his mom would come home safe. Some small part of him wants to be wrong about her. But Sloane has taught him time and again that gut feelings can’t be brushed aside. 
“That call had nothing to do with you,” Louise tells him. 
Crossing his arms across his chest, Ethan settles his shoulder against the window. 
“I’ve been a physician for almost a decade now, which means I’ve gotten rather good at knowing when patients are lying to me.” He holds up a hand to stall her immediate protest. “I also know that standing here and arguing with you is a waste of my time. There’s someone out there who I care about a great deal, who I treated horribly earlier because of you, yet here I am. So, here is my offer: once your three days are finished here, I’ll help you secure a spot with a rehab facility. One of the country’s best is right outside the city and I know the director there. Once you’re in recovery, you can decide what you want to do with your life.” 
“I don’t think I can afford--”
“All expenses during your stay will be paid for by me.”
“Oh.” Her eyes grow wide and her lower lip trembles. “That’s-- thank you, Ethan, that’s--”
“Let me be clear about this, though,” he interrupts, straightening to his full height and pinning her down with his gaze. “This is the only financial help I will give you. This isn’t an act of forgiveness. I still don’t trust you, and right now, I’m not sure I ever will. But you--” he clenches his teeth against the sudden wave of emotion that batters at him, “--you’re still my mother.” 
From his coat pocket, he pulls out a thick, crinkled envelope. Crossing the room, he hands it to her; she pops the tape and slides the card out. It’s been twenty-six years, but he can still remember the glittery flowers on the front, the curly font of whatever silly poem he read aloud to his dad in the card aisle when choosing it.
“You held onto this for all these years?” she asks, tears spilling out onto her pale cheeks. As she opens the card, the dried husk of a flower falls out and onto her blankets; a daisy, her favorite. He remembers sneaking onto Mr. Taylor’s lawn to steal it.  
“You left before I could give it to you.” 
It’s the last thing he has of hers. Something settles deep inside his sternum at the notion that he’s free of it. “Do you agree to the terms I’ve set?” he asks after a moment. 
Louise looks up from the card and smiles at him. 
“Yes.”
------
“You didn’t have to come with me.”
“You’re right. I didn’t.” 
This late in the evening, with most of the patients fed and medicated, the only sounds are the low murmur of televisions and steady beeps of monitors; the white noise of second shift. 
“Did you manage to get any sleep?” Ethan asks, unable to stop the quick once-over he gives her. 
“I took a nap on the couch. When I woke up, someone had covered me with a blanket. It was sweet.” 
Sloane side-eyes him, that little smile making its appearance for the third time today. He wonders when he’ll stop keeping track of something so silly. 
“That was very kind of them to do,” he says.
“It was.” 
They make it to room 532 and Ethan stops to shift the tray of food in his hands. Sloane lets out a grumble about men and opens the door for him. He’s forced to a halt right inside the doorway when Sloane stops and flashes him a concerned glance over her shoulder. 
“Wait, where’s your mom?” she asks.
“What?” 
Nudging her forward, Ethan steps into the room. He takes in the freshly-made bed, the chemical smell of a hospital-grade disinfectant, and, most alarming: the lack of his mother or her things. Turning on his heel, he beelines to the nurse’s station and slams the tray down onto the counter. The plate cover pops off, sending potatoes and green beans into the floor. Kendra glares at him from her seat behind the computer.   
“What crawled up your--”
“Room 532 -- where’s the patient?” he growls.
With a huff, she moves to the keyboard and pecks at the keys. Ethan watches the realization spread across her face and hates seeing her anger turn to pity. He’d rather have the former. 
“Says here patient discharged herself around four.”
“Why wasn’t I informed?”
“I’m sorry about that,” Kendra replies in a cool tone, then doubles down when he scoffs. “Really, I am. But you’re not listed as the primary attending, and shift change happened right about then. It fell through the cracks.”
Something wet slides across his hand. Ethan looks down to see apple juice dripping over the side of the tray and into the floor. Awareness of the mess he’s made shakes him out of the haze of outrage.
“No, I’m the one who--” he clears his throat and tries again, “--I’m sorry, Kendra. There’s no excuse for my outburst. I’ll get this cleaned up.”   
“I can page for a janitor,” she offers.
Ethan shakes his head and crouches down, scooping up the cold food with his hand and dumping it back onto the tray. Before he can stand and start to locate the closest cleaning cart, familiar orange sneakers appear beside him. Sloane crouches beside him and hands him a roll of paper towels, spraying down the counter and floor as he tears off a few sheets. They pile the used towels onto the tray, now covered in a mountain of food scraps and trash. If Ethan were a metaphorical man, he would consider it an allegory for the day he’s had.
Kendra waves them off when they move to pick up the tray. 
“I’ll have one of the dietary aides pick it up on their way through.”
“Thank you,” Ethan murmurs. 
A nudge at his side pulls him from the slippery slope of his thoughts. Sloane tips her head down the corridor, the invitation hidden away in the lift of her brow. He answers with a nod and follows her towards the elevator. 
------
Ethan drops down onto the couch, unable to quiet the weary sigh that escapes him. Jenner hops up to join him, knocking her big head against his shoulder as she snuggles close. He wraps his arm around her and rubs the white patch on her chest; Jenner settles her nose against his chin and lets out a chorus of happy grunts. 
Circling the couch, Sloane takes her spot beside him and hands him a tumbler. 
“How are you feeling?” 
It doesn’t escape his notice that she completely skipped over asking him if he wanted to talk in the first place. The response to that would have been an emphatic no. His throat feels full of all the vague answers he could give instead, of all the ways he could brush aside her question. He thinks about sitting on Mrs. Lemon’s corduroy couch that first awful, terrible night; remembers Mrs. Lemon asked if he was okay; remembers how he boxed up all those new, scary feelings and lied. 
A great, shuddering breath escapes him.
“What’s wrong with me?” he rasps. 
“Oh, Ethan--”
“I’m serious, Sloane,” he interrupts, clenching his fist tight around the glass. “There has to be some explanation, right? Because that’s-- that’s twice now she’s left without even bothering to say goodbye. And she didn’t-- she never even said she was sorry, for any of it.”
He’s unaware of his own tears until he tastes the salt of them on his tongue. His chest aches from the uneven breaths he takes, his lungs burning from the effort. Jenner whines and licks at his jaw, sensing his distress. 
“Why didn’t she stay?” he chokes out, unsure of which time he’s referring to. 
Sloane slides her hand under his and takes his glass. Placing it on the coffee table, she turns back to him and wraps her arms around him, guiding him back into the cushions. He settles his head on her shoulder, where she runs soothing fingers through his hair. 
“There’s nothing wrong with you. I could list your accomplishments until I’m blue in the face, but I know all that doesn’t mean shit to you right now, so I won’t. Instead, I’ll remind you that you’re loyal and honest and hardworking and, despite the losses you’ve experienced and despite the ways you try to hide it, you care more about helping people than anyone else I know.” She kisses the crown of his head and hums. “Well, besides me, of course.”
Her intended effect works; despite it all, he feels a laugh slip through his aching throat -- it’s feeble, but it’s there. 
“She’s the one missing out on knowing you,” Sloane assures. “We can’t choose who our parents are. You and I happened to get stuck with the short end of the stick when it comes to our mothers.”
Ethan knows the gist of her issues with her own mother; knows she left Sloane and her little brother at their grandparents when she was nine. 
“Tell me,” he requests, to which she hesitates. “I want to know. This isn’t some tactic to… I’m not trying to avoid my own troubles, I promise.”
Her fingers resume their movement as she heaves out a sigh. 
“Most of the time, it was me and Milo by ourselves, waiting for my mom to come home from work or from the club. She would come in and pass out on the couch. I knew how mad she would get the next morning if she stayed there, though, so I’d wake her up and guide her to her bedroom, make sure she took her contacts out and took some ibuprofen. On the weekend, she would have her friends over and they would fill our little apartment. But it was exciting, being around so many people, watching all of them, talking to them, fetching beer or cigarettes for them when they were too drunk to stand. Sure, sometimes they would get violent, or steal, or fight, and I would hide Milo with me under my bed until the cops left. But she threatened to drive down to Indiana and leave us in a cornfield if we got her in trouble, and I believed her. 
“Then Milo started school and cut himself on some playground equipment. He has hemophilia, so the blood wouldn’t clot, and they called her to come pick him up. When she called back to tell the school nurse to ‘staple the fucking wound shut,’ the school called CPS. The morning after that first state visit, my mom packed us a trash bag each and loaded us up in the car. She told us we were going on vacation to see Gramma and Grandpa. When we got to Virginia, she kissed us on the cheek and told us she’d be back in a week. I never saw her again.”
Ethan reaches up for her hand and holds it in his, warming her fingers that have since turned cold. He can feel the small hitch in her breath as she clears her throat to continue.   
“Thankfully, Milo doesn’t remember much. But he was the one who sought her out when he got old enough. He tracked her down when he was in college, found her and her new family. She lives in Corpus Christi; she’s the wife of a lieutenant. They have two kids, a boy and a girl, both in high school. After she dumped us off, she started a new life for herself.”
“Did your brother reach out to her?”
The humorless chuckle tells him all he needs to know. He lifts their joined hands to press a kiss to her knuckles. 
“She told him he was mistaken. Milo sent her a photo as proof. She countered with an offer for hush money.” Ethan can’t see from his position, but by her tone, he knows she’s rolling her eyes. “Some things never change, I guess.”
“I’m sorry,” he says. 
“Me too.” Sloane squeezes him tighter to her for a beat. “But I’m telling you my little sob story only because it makes me more appreciative of the people in my life who care about me. At first, that was my grandparents, who never once made me and Milo feel like a burden, who loved us unconditionally. Then, my friends at school, and my friends in college, and my friends now. And you have Naveen, you have me -- you even have your ‘boys,’” she teases. “But you also have your dad, who’s proud of you even when you burn pancakes. Just know that you can feel angry and hurt at her, but her walking away doesn’t diminish the love others have for you.”
Ethan closes his eyes at her reassurances, drinking them in. Unable to work up a response, he lets go of her hand to slide his arm around her waist and pull her impossibly closer. His heartbeat slows at the soft circles she rubs along his back, sinking easily, readily into his embrace. 
“I don’t burn pancakes,” he says after a few minutes of comfortable silence.
“What?”
“My dad, he said that?” 
“Oh, my god.” Sloane barks out a laugh; he enjoys the sound of its return. “Out of all that, you would focus on that?”
“Since it was a testament against my cooking ability, yes.”
“I don’t think he meant literally. More like metaphorical.”
“Metaphorical pancakes?”
“No, you’re-- oh my god you’re the worst.” 
“I thought I was amazing and caring and thoughtful?”
“You are, but you’re also the worst.”
He moves out of her embrace and up to meet her gaze. Her kiss is a gentle one, a brush of her mouth on his. 
“Are you hungry?”
“Starving.”
“I think I know just the thing.” 
------
Author’s notes and what-have-yous:
I barely googled AMA discharges or protocol for those, but I know that since she is his mom, Ethan would not be allowed to be her actual doctor. 
“He wears a mask, and his face grows to fit it” is a line from George Orwell’s Shooting An Elephant, changed slightly for this fic. 
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In Denial
Sometimes I just want everyone to be happy and alive, so here is my headcanons for if Tom Riddle never existed. 
~James and Lily never have to fight in a war, so James becomes a professional quidditch player and he became the longest reining Captain before he quit, bought the club and became the manager for it, as well as the coach for the players. Lily becomes a healer at St. Mungo’s and was able to invent a cure for dragon pox. When James’ parents died as a result of the disease she worked tirelessly researching it and came up with and affective cure. She has a portrait hanging in the hospital and after a long day sometimes has conversations with it (it the only way she can have a decent conversation in her current state). James teases her about it a lot.  
~They get pregnant at a later age, because their relationship doesn’t move as fast since there is the lack of war pressure and not knowing what will happen to them. Same goes for the Weasleys and Andromeda so they all have their children later. (Canonly Molly and Arthur got married quicker because of war) And I’m just going to say that the Grangers had fertility problems, so had Hermione later. (this way the ages and relationships stay the same)
~After Harry they have three more children; Grace Iris Mia Potter, Sophie Lily Potter and Danial Charles Monty Potter. (In that order) (Iris and Charles are Lily’s parents names and Mia and Monty are shortened from Euphemia and Fleamont). Remus becomes Godfather to Grace, Peter (since he couldn’t betray them) becomes Godfather to Sophie, and Marlene becomes Godmother to Danial. Grace is two years younger than Harry (the year bellow Ginny), Sophie is one year bellow her and Danial is two years bellow that.
~They don’t see Dudley or their actual Aunt and Uncle often, they tend to meet up to have a tense cup of tea once a year. The Potter’s always send them birthday and Christmas gifts but the Dursley’s never do. They hardly heat from them until Dudley reaches out saying that he thinks his child is magical. James laughs a lot at this and more specifically the looks on Petunia’s and Vernon’s faces. They do agree to help him and his family understand. 
~When McGonagall becomes Headmistress, the sorting becomes more based on personality and not character and bloodline. Thus ending the prejudice towards the houses. This is the thing that she brings to Hogwarts like the other Heads have done before her. (Dumbledore's was giving people, like Remus, chances) However this is before Minnie’s time so they are all in Griffindor. She becomes Headmistress in Harrys 6th year when Dumbledore leaves to retire in a tropical country, there is no imminent threat so why should he stay at school? His only problem is that sometimes it’s too hot to wear socks.  
~Grace works for the ministry and falls in love with a guy who went to Durmstrang but now works in England, named Eric Luka. They end up having a daughter together, Scarlett Luka. Although when Scarlett is a year old, he walks out on them. Grace becomes a single mum for four years before her co-worker Aiden Murphey asks her out. They had always been friends as he had been a year above her at school, although he was in Ravenclaw. They get married and Scarlett changes her name to Luka-Murphy. They have three children together Liam, then a year later Finn and a year after that they have Owen.
~Sophie become a wizard robe designer and manages to bring some more modern and muggle aspects to the wizarding world. She starts her own clothing brand and falls for some one in Danial’s year. Zoe Phillips, they get married but don’t have any kids. They are perfectly content with spoiling their nieces and nephews.
~Danial is the perfect child of the family and people try to not like him because of it, but end up giving in because he is so nice. He is an architect for the wizarding world and marries a Hufflepuff in his year called Audrey, she is also an architect. Again they are the perfect couple that is so sickening but you can’t help liking them. They have two daughters, Emily and Olivia, who is four years younger. 
~Wolfstar is a thing (as it always has been), they are together up until Harry’s 7th year. They are facing difficult struggles and are always shouting at each other, even though they still love each other. They decide to take a break and they each are set up on dates. Sirius with some guy and Remus with Tonks. On this date Remus gets very drunk because he misses Sirius and they sleep together. 
~ A week later they promise to be better and stop their break. Although after three months, Tonks contacts Remus to tell him that she is pregnant, and it is his decision whether he wants to be part of it or not. Remus has his freak out about whether the baby will be like him and what Sirius will say. 
~Sirius understands what has happened and doesn’t blame Remus because they were on a break, but is upset that he was with someone else. After a talk with James, Sirius feels better and is by Remus’ side the whole way and becomes excited for a baby when Remus calls Tonks to say that he wants to be a part of it (secretly he had always been jealous about the way his nieces and nephews look at James and Lily). Tonks knows how in love the boys are.
~Wolfstar begins to miss out on baby stuff and Sirius complains that its not how its meant to be when the kid arrives, so Tonks come to live with them. Tonks love the arrangement because she doesn’t have to be alone and the boys dote on her and the baby once he arrives. James becomes a Godfather. They continue living together until Teddy a bit after Teddy turns one. Tonks moves to London to be closer to her work and they co-parent using floo network all the time. Sirius normally watches him during the day since he is a wizarding writer and Remus is a professor at Hogwarts (floo’s into work) and Tonks is an auror.
~Harry and Ron become Friends with Hermione when they save her from trouble with Filch for being out after bed (she was in the Library for too long). They help her with the invisibility cloak and she lies for them when McGonagall reveals them from under the cloak when she stepped on the end of it.  
~Neville has a happy childhood and is coated in his parents love, by the time he gets to school he is much more confident. He still takes a toad but his parents gave him an owl. Alice and Frank support all of his choices and are proud of every accomplishment he makes, even if his Grandmother says that it’s a waste of their time and effort. He and Harry are close friends from a very young age because of their parents, although they never really were best friends. When they went to Hogwarts and Harry went off with Ron they still looked out for each other and laughed together.
~Ron and Hermione (Ginny when they got older) came over to the Potter’s for some of the holidays, like they would go to the Weasleys for some before parting for a week before September 1st for “family time” and so their parents could see them off. Because of this Sirius and Remus become close with Ron and Hermione, so when Mrs. Weasley hosts a party (when Teddy is around three) they are invited too as part of the Potter family. Tonks comes along too as a family outing with Teddy. Teddy and Victorie hit it off and begged their parents to have play together more. Tonks sees Charlie at the party and starts talking to him as they were in the same year at school, though in different houses. He introduces her to his friend who works with him and is recently moving to London to lead the organization for dragon well-fair in England, protesting to let the Gringotts dragons free. In short Tonks and the person get together. (still unsure on what her partner identifies as but they are from a Greek pure-blood family with the surname Samaras).
~Charlie never marries or truly settles down but treats his dragons like children and is the best uncle ever.
~Bill comes to England not because of war but because he accidentally got promoted and had to move back. Him and Fleur still get married quickly, and have Victorie a year after that, Dominique come after two years and Louis three years after that. They pretty much lead the same lives other than the fact that their wedding isn’t crashed by Death Eaters and Fleur insists they have it in France (since they don’t have to stay in England for it)
~Hemione and Ron get together in 7th year in a similar sort of way. Ron is caught by Hermione tell off some kids for playing pranks on the house elves and teaches they about their history and situation. She can’t help herself, so she snogs him in the deserted corridor after the kids have gone. 
~Ginny and Harry break up after his 7th year, she wanted more independence especially since this was her last year and the only year attending the school without her family there. Harry was also going to auror training and starting his own path in the world and wanted to experience being by himself in the world, with new responsibilities. They both date a few people whilst broken up and remain close friends, they were each other’s firsts (Harry’s 7th year) but were with other people too. After four years, Ginny made the Harpies first team and one the match for them. Like before, Harry and her ended up kissing in front of the entire stadium, they have been together ever since. 
~ Ron and Harry both became aurors but shortly after Remus retires (he was getting more tiered after the full moons with his age and Sirius’ book became a best selling novel in the muggle and wizarding world so he could support them comfortably), he became the DADA professor. After joining the aurors he never felt like it was a good choice for him and didn’t know what he wanted to do, so he just stuck it out. That was until Remus mentioned he was retiring early and that they were struggling to find a competent professor. 
~Ginny does take maternity leave with each of her children (Jake, Samuel and Lyra - because no one is dead) but still play for the harpies until she is forced to retire. After retiring she writes sports articles for both the Prophet and the Quibbler, becoming chief editor of both. Harry is able to take care of the kids whilst she is away, with the help of a nanny. They both couldn’t see a reason to put either of their careers on hold. 
~Ron revolutionized the strategies that were used and as a result far less people were harmed and more people joined the force. He still took a 7 year break to be a stay at home dad whilst Hermione was being a boss, but practically worked part time since everyone respected his opinion and always asked for his advice (he got paid half time wages because of this). When Rose and Hugo both went to a muggle primary school, Ron worked for them officially again, but because of all the work he had done he rose quickly through the ranks and when the old head of the aurors retired, he became head of the department.
~Fred didn’t die so him and Angelina became a permanent couple (they never wanted to or could be bothered with getting married). They always had an on and off thing since the Yule Ball, they were the only people that they ever were in love with, despite their previous inconsistency. They only had one kid together. Joseph Weasley. Fred wanted him to have a sibling like he had but Angelina only ever wanted one and he had many cousins, George had his second kid at the same time and the boys were practically twins. (Fred II is renamed to Luke Weasley, since Fred didn’t die)
~George married Katie Bell after running into her at Diagon Ally whilst locking up the shop (Fred was out with Angelina that night). They agreed to catch up and it resulted in them having an amazing time, which ended with Katie giving George her contact details. They got pregnant with Roxanne just after George had proposed, so the wedding was preponed until she was there. Unfortunately Katie got pregnant again with Luke just when they started planning the wedding. two years later they finally got married and their children walked down the isle (it was the cutest thing, Molly was weeping).  
~Percy and Oliver fall in love ( how do you expect two guys that are the definition of opposites attract share a room for 7 years and have nothing happen) Oliver stops Percy from being a complete prat as there is no ministry fall out with his family to get him to that point. Oliver makes him realize that his family are the greatest gift, especially with all their flaws. They have a small ceremony with only family and close friends and adopt a little witch naming her after Molly, three years later they adopt another witch and name her Lucy. 
~Snape and Lily still fall out with him calling her a mudblood, just because there wasn’t an group to kill those like her doesn’t mean he didn’t hang around with prejudice people and have those views. He still become potions professor when Slughorn retires. Though occasionally he will get howlers from the Potter’s and Longbottom's shouting at him for his behavior towards his students along with some howlers from Marlene and Dorcas, Emmeline, Mary, Sirius and Peter with use of his old nicknames they had for him. (because how dare he disrespect their friends kids)
~Peter still is friends with the marauders, but he moves away from them and distances himself every year to the point where they only write to each other to celebrate special occasions. He never finds a partner or has children but does become a pub manager and lives comfortably.   
~Draco and the Golden trio make their peace at the end of 7th year. They never become friends, they just forgive each other ( for the most part, him calling Hermione a mudblood is not forgiven). They act civilly towards one another, especially when Scorpius and Samuel announce that they are dating. They learn to tolerate but nothing more.  
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intoanothermind · 4 years
Text
After Quidditch - James Potter
Word Count: 2.575 words
- James Potter x reader
Synopsis: I was almost too late and almost lost the best thing that happened to me in my life because I was too stubobrn
Masterlist
I hurry down the hallways toward the Gryffindor common room, trying hard to get in fast enough to take a shower, put on a comfortable outfit, and go to the Quidditch game. It would be a classic: Gryffindor against Slytherin. And I, as a good Gryffindor that I am, will forget my time studying, to go cheer for my house team. I would probably see James - woe to him if not - take the golden snitch, guaranteeing victory and, once again, dedicating it to me.
I find that quite annoying, yes, but it makes me feel good. Every pick up line, every smile, every nickname, every adverb of possession, every request to go on a date with me, I felt good, I felt honoured, my heart tight and a butterfly festival in my stomach. And I tried, at all costs, to suppress it for myself, but it seemed impossible. After all, I can't like Potter. As much as it has changed over the years, it's still the same womaniser that uses the girls and then dismisses them. And I don't wanna be just one more on his list.
And that was when my day - well, my life - changed completely.
For I see him coming towards me, with a pained and tired look and without the usual mischievous glint in his eyes. I feel the urge to stop and comfort him, but for some reason I don't. Until he stops me.
“S/N” He calls me and I stop, feeling something recoil in my chest. He had never called me before by my last name.
“What is it, Potter?” I ask, feeling my tone coming out rougher than I intend to.
“I just want to give you this.” He says, handing me a piece of parchment. And then he's gone.
No pick up line. No smile. No nickname. No adverb of possession. No asking me on a date. There was something wrong with all this, for he hadn’t pursued me, and then I hadn’t shouted at him. I look intrigued at the letter addressed to me. I didn't know what to think, no one had ever sent me a letter. Since I don't know if I should read that in the middle of the corridor, with great chances of someone taking the letter, running out and reading too, then I simply look around, finding no sign of James, and finally going to Gryffindor Tower.
I walk past everyone, just looking at the letter in my hands, and go up to my dorm. I enter furiously there, wanting to read the letter as soon as possible, but there is always something that prevents it.
“What is that face? What's the matter this time?” Lily asks from his bed, lowering the book he was reading on his lap.
“Dear Lily,” Marlene begins, leaving the bathroom with a towel in her hands. ”You know very well that our friend's problem here has a name, a surname, a beautiful face and is Gryffindor’s seeker.”
I am tempted to talk back, but the letter felt heavy in my hand, and I increasingly need to read it as urgently as possible. Ignoring her completely, I throw my backpack anywhere near my dresser and sit on my bed.
“But that doesn't seem to be the problem at the time.” Says Lene, seeing how I sit and sitting next to me.
“What is it, Y/N, why that face?” Lily asks, sitting on my other side. Seeing that I stare at the letter in my hands, with my name written in crooked and clearly masculine handwriting, asks again. ”What is this?”
“A letter from James.” I answer
“Now he's James, huh?” Jokes Marlene.
“Not now, Lene,” I scold. ”He never sent me a letter before.”
Seeing that this never really happened, she says apologetically, “So this is serious.”
“Open it.” Insists Lily and so I do.
I find something I really didn't expect.
  S/N,
Surely you must be finding it a bit odd that I don't start with the nicknames I usually use. But I think for the purpose of this letter there is no need for it. At first I hadn’t even considered the idea of actually handing you this letter, it was more like an outburst I needed since the third year. I wrote and rewrote that same letter at least six times last night and after much parchment and cursing by the marauders for letting the light on finally came out the one you're reading - and probably the girls are reading with you.
But that is beside the point. I'm sorry to be asking you to read this, but I really needed to say what I want. DON'T STOP READING! I'm sorry for all those years I've been insisting on a chance to go on a date with the most incredible witch Hogwarts has ever seen. I'm sorry for all those years I hit every boy that goes out with you. I'm sorry for all those years when I always pestered you, just asking for a chance. I'm sorry for all those years when I know you had to put up with your friends trying to convince you to go out with me. LILY AND MARLENE, THANK YOU, BUT IT SEEMS THAT IT DIDN'T WORK WELL.
Do you know why I apologize for all this and so much that I can't remember at three in the morning, S/N? Because I got tired and I'm giving up.
I got tired of feeling dizzy and my heart pounding every time I see you. Each time I get close enough to smell this cherry scent intoxicating my senses. I got tired of staring at your mouth every time you bite your lower lip when you're nervous. Or when you blush - and I know that right now your cheeks are extremely red as you read all this - and you start shuffling the hem of your shirt when you're embarrassed. I got tired of feeling enchanted by looking into those beautiful e/c eyes. I got tired of smiling like a fool every time we have a conversation where you don't yell at me, swear at me or hit me. I got tired of staring at the ceiling at night, just thinking about you and wondering if I could ever call you mine. I'm tired of having the green monster of jealousy fidgeting inside me every time you go out with someone. I'm tired of feeling my heart clench with so much force every time you deny me - I may not let it show, but it hurts me a lot. Especially tired of crying at night when I know the guys are sleeping, knowing that you probably hate me with all your might and will never give me a chance.
I can try to say it was a waste of time and all, but I'd be lying not only to you - and Lils and Lene - but to myself. It was the best years of my life. You changed me. I don't go out with five girls a week anymore, I stopped hexing the Slytherins and first years. But I will leave you alone and try to forget that one day I fell in love with you. Yes, S/N, I love you. And that was the most absolute truth I have ever admitted to myself or anyone else - and I still don't understand how you don't believe me when I scream it in the open. Just know that I never said these three words to any other girl. If there's one thing my father really taught me is that I should just say that the only girl to whom my heart belongs. And it if there’s something I’m sure in my life is that I love you.
And that is why I will leave you alone. If I love her, I have to set her free, I can't make you go out with me or like me. So that's it: I give up; and I will do my best to get that feelings out of me, even if it won't be easy at all.
No goodbyes,
Potter
  “Y/N, are you ok?” Marlene asks as we finish reading the letter together and I drop the parchment at my feet.
“He loves me.” I say, feeling a big knot form in my throat.
“Are you okay?” Lily repeats Lene's question, wrapping an arm around my shoulders.
“I don’t know.” I say with a raspy voice.
“Do you want to cry?” Marlene asks.
“I don’t know.” I say even more tearfully, feeling the tears cloud my vision.
“You will cry.” States Lily.
“I know.” I confirm, lying my head on her shoulder and feeling thick tears streaming down my face.
“What will you do now?”
And this is when I decide and this is when I have the discussion with myself. I lifted my head from Lily's shoulder and dried my tears. “I’m gonna do what I should have done a long time ago.”
“What would it be...?” Lily asks curiously.
“I think it's time to say yes to James, even if he doesn't accept it.”
~ * ~
The Quidditch game is almost over and I still try to decide if it's the right thing to do. The game was almost over and I was trying to gather the courage to do that. James glanced back and forth for the golden snitch, but the times he glanced at the Gryffindor bleachers, I knew he was confused that I wasn't there. He knew that I would never lose a Gryffindor game, especially against the worms - an affectionate nickname given to me, which quickly spread among the lions. I would never lose a game, and he knew that probably - certainly - his letter had a lot more impact on me than he thought.
But I wasn’t losing the game. I had a privileged view, where I hid near the tents leading to the locker room, where no one could see me. Actually, I didn't know it with the red eyes I could appear in front of everyone, especially him, but that doesn't make a difference after all. Surely I couldn't look at him during the three hours of the game when he finally catches the snitch, getting a 300 to 210 victory. This time he doesn't dedicate it to anyone.
Everyone shouts and cheers and James quickly gets off the broom, clearly downcast, even though his team mates insist on carrying him on their shoulders. He denies it and comes slowly and with his head down toward the locker room. It's my only chance, and I step out of my hiding place, feeling all Hogwarts stare at me as I make my way over to the dark haired boy. He looks at me confused and I smile at him.
“What...?” He tries to speak, but I quickly interrupt him with a kiss. He looks confused at first, but then gladly kisses me back, wrapping me around my waist and deepening the kiss.
I never thought I'd feel anything this good. Sure, I've gone out with other guys, but I deeply regret never having tasted those lips before that had always been a temptation to me. I push my fingers into his hair, realizing that as shaggy as they are, they are extremely soft and silky. He pulls me around the waist closer to him, making my knees go weak and getting yelling, clapping and whistling from everyone - I say EVERYONE - around us. But we didn't care, because that's what we really wanted for years and if I waited a second longer I would lose it forever. Unfortunately, there is a gas we need to breathe called oxygen and I curse it right now for forcing us to move away.
“Let's get out of here.” I say, smiling, and give him a peck before finally opening my eyes and finding two greenish-brown orbs looking at me with a unique glow that I'd missed when he handed me the letter.
“Only if it's now.” He says, riding his broom again and helping me to ride it. I feel my body turning slightly and I hold tightly to his waist, feeling an electric shock pass from his body to mine. “Hold on, love.”
Hearing the word love come out of his mouth, I feel immense relief filling my being; and I know I may be forgiven. He takes off and we fly off the field, still listening to the noise behind us. When I find ourselves far from the noise, we're already landing near Black Lake and James helps me down.
“Can you tell me what that was?” He asks, clearly trying to hide the smile.
“I read your letter.” He arches an eyebrow, urging me to continue. “And since I don't know how to express myself in such a new feeling to me, I want to give it to you.”
And then I handed him a torn piece of parchment, with a simple sentence: PS I S2 YOU .
He reads and opens my favourite smile, the one I know is mine alone. “After years... After I gave up ...” He says, but I interrupt.
“I know and I'm sorry.You can't just enjoy it, can you?”
“No.” He says so confidently that it feels like a stab in the chest and when I threaten to turn back to the castle, he pulls me by the wrist, touches my cheek with his fingers and kisses me passionately, causing me the same numbing sensations. When air is needed - damn it! - we parted and smiled. “No, that's just not what I want. Y/N, do you want to go on a date with me?”
I look at him incredulously, but I know the answer I must give, even if it's not just a yes. It's at least the one he deserves. “Like I've never wanted anything before.”
“Too bad I still don't have a ring to put on your finger and show the world you're mine. But your statement took me by surprise, so I'll have to postpone the moment.” He says and I laugh as he kisses my lips once more and, holding me by the waist, spins me in the air.
Previously, I'd think he said it as a trophy to me, but after reading the letter that I kept in the back of my trunk forever to be rereading - it's the one that changed our lives - I know I’m much more valuable to him than that. For what we have is a true and deep feeling that has completely changed us.
“I love you, James Potter.” I say finally and feel his lips forming a smile over mine.
“I love you, Y/N L/N.”
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draqcnheartstrinq · 4 years
Text
Hate That I Want You (Part 3)
Sirius Black x Pure-blood!Slytherin!Reader
Summary: At first it’s hate, then it’s confusion. It grows into a healthy amount of curiosity until it turns into hate once more. But not towards each other, more towards the idea of wanting what you’ve tried to avoid all your life.
Words: 4.4k
Warnings: angst, bad family relationships, mild fighting?
Note: So very sorry for basically not updating this story for over two months. That’s just bad even for my standards I hope you enjoy this one though!
HTIWY Masterpost | Part 4
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James loves his quidditch, everyone knows it and nobody is surprised when they see him on the quidditch pitch flying along the field. There’s no match planned, no training on the schedule and still Potter is there on his broom whilst his friends sit in a group on the stands.
Occasionally Remus, Lily, Marlene and Sirius have a go at flying themselves. They’re all good, but of course nothing like quidditch king James Potter.
When the five of them are up in the air, the others cheer and watch from down below. Other students sit in the stands too, watching them or just discussing some of their classes, catching up or admiring the Hogwarts Grounds.
The quidditch pitch isn’t only James’ favourite spot, but also that from many others.
You heard a few fellow Slytherins whispering in the library about how amazing it was to just sit there, reflect, watch the clouds go by and do nothing but breathe. Whenever they felt threatened by the copious amounts of assignments and tests they would go there to unwind and relax.
And so, you were now walking up the wooden stairs, towards the seats and the beautiful autumn sky, trying to finally find a way to ease your mind.
You brought a book, one that you had read a thousand times before but couldn’t get enough of and clutched it between your arms until you found a place to get comfortable. The stands weren’t anything fancy but they gave off a cosy pine smell, the sky wasn’t clear but the sun shone through the clouds in a most beautiful way and most of all… Even though you were alone, you didn’t feel like it.
Clusters of friends were scattered around the pitch, chattering along and filling the air with happiness. In a place like this you could never feel alone because of all the friendly faces around. It didn’t matter what name you were given or the blood you were born with. The quidditch pitch was a safe place and thanks to that one Slytherin in the library you now knew that.
Focussing all your attention on the book in your hands, reading every word as if it was the first time, you didn’t realise the giggles zooming through the air above your head were ones you knew. Until the person flew so close you could basically feel the breeze flying over you and messing your hair around.
Lily was trying her very best to lose James who desperately chased her, in a friendly attempt of course. Her laugh pierced the air and brought a smile to many others’ lips. Even to yours without realising it. James, of course, was much faster on his broom and caught up with her in less than thirty seconds. He reached out grabbing her arm in the air, making Lily scream out of joy and also maybe a little because she didn’t like losing.
Her scream brought your attention upwards, away from your book and towards the duo who hysterically laughed at one another. After a while Lily averted her attention to you too and waved with such a happy smile, you felt your heart grow. You waved back, a little more shy than her but at least just as joyful.
As Lily turned her attention back on flying alongside James, you averted your eyes higher up. Remus was there chatting with Marlene about who knows what, both several feet in the air and dangling their legs off the sides. You couldn’t possibly imagine looking that relaxed while sitting on a hovering stick, being a little scared of heights yourself, but they didn’t seem to mind one bit.
Realising you were staring by now you turned back towards your book but something seemed off.
Not the book, there wasn’t a problem with the book.
You felt off, like something was trying to catch your attention but you couldn’t make out what.
Your eyes roamed back over the stands, catching a few Hufflepuffs sitting in a circle, a Gryffindor and a Ravenclaw holding hands whilst whispering to each other. You smiled at that, not caring if it made you look like a lunatic.
But what kept you on the edge of your seat like this? What was making you this uncomfortable you could barely concentrate on one single word of your forgotten page?
After several seconds you realised, much to your displeasure, that the “what” was actually a “who”.
There he was once again, with his long messy black hair and his piercing grey eyes, looking right at you as if it was his favourite occupation. Honestly, as of lately you couldn’t tell if Sirius did it on purpose or not. Contrary to the other years at Hogwarts when he used to only give you attention in the form of barking remarks and swift hateful glances, now for almost a week he had seeked you out in any crowd. You did the same to him you had to admit, otherwise you wouldn’t even have know about his prolonged stares.
His looks weren’t friendly, but they weren’t full of hatred anymore either. They were more like a gaze, as if he was looking at you but at the same time right through you, lost in thought.
Right now, even as you were looking right into his eyes, it was as if he didn’t realise what he was doing. His head didn’t turn or even move an inch to the left or right, his eyebrows didn’t knot together like they did up until a week ago…
Something had been going on inside his head and obviously you couldn’t complain. If Sirius could finally stop holding a grudge against you, purely for the family you were born in, then anyone could right?
Or so you were trying to tell yourself. But you were smarter than to keep on hoping it would get better, it never did in the last six years.
*~*~*~*~*~*
His mood had been swinging from left to right, from cheery and upbeat to plain out irritated by the most insignificant matters.
James talked too loud, Peter chewed with his mouth open, Marlene’s high pitched laugh pierced his ears, professor Mcgonagall called him out for every joke he pulled no matter how subtle they were,... Nothing was going his way.
On top of all of this, there seemed to be an itch in his head he wasn’t able to scratch.
Everywhere Sirius went he saw two particularly unwanted eyes reading a book or concentrating on ink spilling out of the tip of a quill. Green accented robes and an obnoxiously neat skirt flowed around knee length socks, also accented by that same deep colour of emerald green. It’s the kind smile, though, that makes him hate it all more. It’s out of character, those lips aren’t supposed to look that innocent and friendly.
Sirius hasn’t been himself ever since the encounter with you after potions class. He’s tense, stressed even and he doesn’t get why. Was it because you called him out on his obvious ignorance? Maybe because the words that left your mouth that day were both filled with obvious anger but also hurt?
You had genuinely sounded hurt, Sirius now realises that. You looked at him as if he had grown two heads, opening your mouth just slightly before closing it. The corners of your lips turned downwards and your eyes lost the sparkle of that always present wit. Your shoulders had slumped down and you made yourself as tiny as you could without being too obvious about it.
The conversation still rang inside his head every time he so much as caught a glance of your silhouette.
“You honestly still believe I stand for what my family stands for?”
Your voice was so small, you had almost whispered it and if his attention wasn’t solely focussed on you he would have probably missed what you were saying.
He knows his reaction to your fragile demeanour made you stand up straight again. As if seeing his perplexed eyes was enough to remember what you were dealing with. He could see it in the way you pulled your books against your chest, how you twisted your face into a scowl.
That angry look, that was the one he recognised.
It made him snap back at you, like he always did, trying to put you back into place. But your answers…
They weren’t what he expected, they weren’t what he wanted to hear. His plan was to confront you, to finally get the hateful words to spill from your mouth and proof his friends wrong, so he could tell them how wrong they were about trusting and defending you.
“Do your family’s actions reflect onto you? Have you ever considered I could be in the same bloody situation as you are, or is the hate towards Slytherins just so damn huge it doesn’t even matter what my opinions are? You’re just going to keep accusing me of sh*t I’ve never done, or better, never even said!
“I never shared their love for our bloodstatus let alone my whole opinion on who’s worthy and who is not! It may be a surprise to you, Black”, you made sure to spit out his surname as if it was a pawn on a chessboard, “but I consider someone worthy as soon as they step foot in this world, from there on it’s up to themselves if they deserve to walk among the others or not.”
Those definitely weren’t the words he expected.
That night wasn’t one where sleep found him quickly. Questions kept sliding through his mind, all basically asking the same damn thing.
“Some people don’t wish to be disowned and thrown on the streets, Sirius! Of all people I would think you would be the most understanding of that!”
Was he wrong all along?
Now he sat at dinner, three weeks later, with a fake smile plastered on his lips. Irritation, rage, frustration,... Confusion.
All those years he had known you, walking along with your parents at King’s Cross, not once had you stepped out of line with them. When they grimaced at muggleborns, you turned your head the other way. When your parents talked to his you made sure to get as far away as possible. He always held that against you, believing you wanted to get away because he, a friend of muggleborns, was there right next to them.
Were you just scared?
He had heard stories from his parents, from before he ran away and left them for good.
“The (Y/L/N)s had a particular encounter with a mudblood, Walburga, have you heard?”
“I’m afraid not.”
“Don’t worry though, they put the vile bastard in it’s place.”
He remembers conversations like that too vividly, vulgar and sickening details following suit.
How you hadn’t left after all that your family had done, said and inflicted upon innocents… It remains a mystery to him. It’s why he always saw you as one of them. You didn’t seem bothered or even fazed by all of it. You never talked back, never gave a kick.
When someone asked you about it you just ignored the question and went on with your day.
How could you? Why would you?
Sirius questions everything, sitting there whilst shoving potatoes around his plate.
You remain a mystery he can’t seem to solve.
*~*~*~*~*~*
When the owls come flying through the Great Hall the next morning, you expect to see grandma’s tiny brown one to land in front of you, lay down a letter and ask for some petting. It’s routine by now and it’s what keeps you grounded, makes you realise there’s someone outside of these school walls that still cares.
This time that doesn’t happen, though. You see other people receiving The Daily Prophet, others get letters from their parents and family at home.
Grandma’s owl never appears.
Instead you see a black one, as dark as the nights on Hogwarts grounds, fly towards you. It lands gracefully and for several seconds you can’t help but stare.
This isn’t what’s supposed to happen, grandma never forgets to write.
Even though this isn’t the owl you expected, you still recognise the stark yellow eyes that contrast with the deep feathers. It’s your family’s owl.
The loud screech of the bird takes you back to where you are, momentarily pushing down the panic away from your head. It settles deep, making you feel nauseous as you take the letter from the sharp beak. Your owl flies away without any hesitation.
Other people around you have been alerted by the loud noise coming from your place as well. Of course they have to keep staring, making your nerves even more prominent. You do as you do best, though. You plaster a fake not bothered look on your face, lay down the letter next to your plate and keep eating like nothing had happened, like your stomach wasn’t refusing every bite you took.
As you tried to calm down, over time you were able to make out the details of the letter. The handwriting of your mother on the front, the big black seal known to be your family’s,...
And then you noticed the obvious red colour of the envelope.
The letter was a Howler. You were definitely not opening that in front of everyone, it was staying shut until you were in your room, alone, with no roommates to disturb you.
For the remaining time of breakfast you kept your eyes on your plate, anxiously thinking about what could be written inside. You dreaded having to listen to your mother’s voice, most probably screaming at you for some unknown reason.
But most importantly, why didn’t grandma write?
Why did it have to be your parents instead?
Lost inside your own thoughts, leaving breakfast on auto-pilot and with a blank stare in your eyes, you just forgot
You didn’t even realise you  left the Howler right next to your still half full plate.
*~*~*~*~*~*
Sirius saw everything, never diverting his eyes away from you for more than ten seconds.
He saw your hopeful smile when the owls started flying in, saw how that smile slowly turned into a frown the longer you waited. Your lips had fully fallen open when a black owl landed in front of you.
He saw your hesitation, heard the loud shriek that made you jump in your seat.
He saw the red envelope.
And there it was again, that unbothered look you always glued onto your face, the one that makes him angry every single time he sees it.
He always addressed it to you actually not caring, but now he just couldn’t. You had looked so devastated and almost terrified just a second ago.
Were you hiding what you were feeling?
Was that what that look was? You just didn’t want others to see what kept going on inside that confusing head of yours?
That would be exactly what Slytherins were good at. Sirius now sees the sly move, realises how good you are at lying. Not with words but with your demeanour.
He definitely doesn’t miss you leaving, head down shoulders slumped because even you aren’t that good at telling lies. He spots the red paper still on the table, left and forgotten about.
There’s a big decision now, right in front of him. Is he stooping that low?
“You okay there, Sirius? You’ve been awfully quiet”, Lily remarks and everyone turns their heads his way.
“Yeah, I’m fine. Just not been feeling too well since waking up.”
“Have you guys gone partying without us again?” Marlene asks with a pout hanging off her lips, big round puppy eyes following not long after.
“We wouldn’t dare”, Peter answers before everyone chuckles at the thought of that happening last time. The girls had been mad for weeks.
“I’m done here, I’m full as can be”, Remus says after a while, standing up and pushing off from the table, “If anyone feels like joining me before having to leave for class-”
He can’t even finish his sentence before basically everyone at the table follows his lead and leaves their plates for what they are. All except Sirius.
“Aren’t you coming, mate?”
“I’m going to talk to my brother first, it’s been a while”, Sirius responds, not lifting his gaze from the Slytherin table. Unbeknown to his friends it’s not because his brother is sat there.
“As you wish. Let’s get going, guys!”
*~*~*~*~*~*
Just when you’re about to turn another corner, you snap out of it.
Emptiness is refilled by panic and you’re running before you’ve even realised you were standing still.
The letter! How could you forget to take the stupid letter?!
Your heart beats like crazy and your breathing is deep and irregular. How much more could go wrong today? It’s only half past eight in the morning, classes haven’t started yet and here you are, running your lungs out of your body because of a Howler your family left you.
When the entrance of The Great Hall comes into sight you finally let yourself slow down. Still your legs move in an obvious fast pace, stressed and rigid with your hands fidgeting in front of your stomach.
Just as you reach the grand doorway Sirius Black walks through. You see him hesitate for a second, locks eyes before he quickly gathers himself and walks the other direction. You couldn’t care less at this moment. He’s not what’s concerning you right now. It’s that bloody red letter right next to your plate.
You enter, scan the Slytherin table trying to recall the exact place you sat at.
Penny still sits there, the fifth year Slytherin you know from spending too much time in the library. She sat not too far away from where you had been eating only minutes ago.
As you pass seat after seat, even passing the one you could swear you had been seated, you didn’t see a single letter. No Daily Prophets, no regular white letters,...
Not your very prominent red letter.
“No”, you breathe out. No one hears you.
“Please, it has to be here.” This time you speak louder.
“Everything okay, (Y/N)?”
You look up, silently thanking Merlin for this sweet girl, Penny, for at least caring enough to check on you. You’re quite sure you look like you’ve seen a ghost, figuratively speaking of course.
“No, I-I’m sorry for bothering but have you seen an envelope lying right at this spot? A red one?”
You wait as she looks down to where your letter should’ve been. The longer she takes the more you lose hope.
It’s been several seconds now, you’re almost sure she’s going to ignore your question and get on with her day but then she speaks up as if she only just realised what you asked.
“The Howler you received?”
Of course she knew you received a Howler, Penny was known for being an observant girl, still you had slightly hoped she didn’t notice. You had hoped no one noticed. Obviously that wasn’t the case.
“Yes, Penny, the Howler”, you answer slightly annoyed she had to bring it up in front of her friends. She seems to realise her mistake, though, and looks at you with apology written across her face.
“Actually, yeah we saw”, Duncan who sits in front of the girl answers, “Sirius Black picked it up and left.”
That’s when everything starts to spin. The words have barely reached your ears but you know enough, he’s going to ruin you. This is going to ruin everything.
You swear tears are starting to form in your eyes but rapid blinks keep them from rolling down. You can’t lose it now, not in front of everyone. The breathy voice that leaves your lips is a dead giveaway of what is going through your head right now, though.
“And you just let him take it?” It’s barely a whisper, but you know Penny heard well enough. She turns her head down to her plate, guilt prominently edged onto her features.
“We thought he was going to bring it to you”, Duncan answers, also slightly taken aback by your demeanor.
You shake your head, not believing what’s happening still. “Oh yeah, because we all know Sirius Black is such a good friend of mine.”
The response is filled with frustration and most probably a lot of obvious resentment, but you can’t get yourself to care about that right now. You’re running again, this time out of The Great Hall, trying to catch up with the guy who has your whole future on this school right between his fingers.
*~*~*~*~*~*
He feels wrong. The red envelope clutched in his right hand is burning into his skin. This doesn’t feel right, no matter who the piece of paper belongs to. Why did he do it? Is he so desperate to make your life hell? Is he so set on proving you’re a horrible person?
Sirius doesn’t have the answers to his own questions, he regrets taking the letter and it’s now stressing him out.
This isn’t about doing the right thing anymore. Now he is being the horrible person out of the two of you. He debates walking back to your spot and laying it right where he had picked it up, but it was too late for that. Everyone would’ve seen what he did, if he went back they would only confront him about it.
The more distance he puts between himself and The Great Hall the worse he feels. He takes steps by two, looking down at the red letter in his hand with your name elegantly written on the front. It’s definitely a Howler from your parents, he recognises the black stamp that seals the lid from the many letters your family had sent to his parents.
Why would they send you a Howler?
Maybe they were going to praise you? That could be it, they were only trying to brag about how good of a Slytherin their precious daughter is. Amazing grades, never out of line, always proper and prim,...
But the more he thinks about it the more he starts to question whether his friends were right.
Howlers weren’t sent by loving parents, they were always sent by people who had some bone to pick. Sirius remembers the time Martha, a Hufflepuff, received a Howler from her grandparents, yelling at her because apparently if she didn’t start studying for her OWLs she would be in big trouble when she got back home.
Or that time when Kyle tried to pull a prank on one of the professors but injured a student instead, his parents were livid.
Sirius stops walking, now taking that bloody letter into both hands, staring at it as if he wanted to burn it right then and there.
Anger fills his head as he focuses on your mother’s handwriting. What could your parents possibly be humiliating you for? There was not a chance you were doing anything wrong, anything against their standards. You studied hard, got amazing grades, were good at pretty much anything that involved magic.
The fact he was becoming concerned for you, a (Y/L/N), confuses him to no end and it makes him even more livid.
Nothing made sense anymore.
“Sirius Black!”
Your loud voice echoed through the halls like never before. Not once has Sirius ever heard you scream in all those years he knew you. It takes him back to reality, out of his thoughts and into the world where he can feel nothing but loathing at your mere presence.
After the initial shock he turns around, a prominent glare is fixed onto his face.
And there you are, getting closer with every second, walking with loud steps but still as gracious as ever.
Before he realises it you’re right in front of him, eyes wide and deep breaths filling the air between you. You’re seething, staring daggers at him. If looks could kill, Sirius would be lying on the ground with a cut open throat right now.
“If you give it back I won’t speak a word about this to anyone, Black.”
He expected you to make a scene, but you surprised him with an almost gentle voice, a whisper so no one else could hear but him. It’s a big contrast to your body language.
Your outstretched hand is patiently waiting for him to lay the letter on your palm.
“No can do, (Y/L/N).”
He turns away from you, trying to walk away as quickly as possible but you don’t let him.
Sirius feels his hair being tugged backwards, his scalp stinging from the pull. You know it’s a low blow, almost childish if this was any other situation but you’re so angry, so furious, so full of hatred right now that it’s the only thing that makes you feel satisfied.
His guard is down as he is too distracted and startled by the move you just pulled, literally, that it’s easy for you to grab for the envelope in his hand.
When he feels the paper slipping between his fingers he grips on tight, refusing to let go. He’s in too deep by now, he’s not giving up on that letter.
Sirius never meant for you to be humiliated, as nasty as he could be sometimes, never once did it cross his mind to harass or demoralize you in front of everyone at school. His hatred was private, he made sure only you knew about his distaste. Yes, others picked up on the grudge between you two after a while but never was anything said in full public view.
Never, absolutely never did he mean for this to get so far.
One of you must have pulled too hard, maybe the stamp was weak from the beginning,...
When the black seal broke away from the envelope there wasn’t enough time to realise what was happening.
Before either of you could react your mother’s loud voice filled the hallways and you were there in the middle of everyone listening.
Sirius stumbled back out of pure shock, eyes wide pleading for something to stop this.
Had he gone too far?
Yes, he did. He realised it as soon as he saw your face.
Your tears dripped and hit the floor right between your feet.
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siriusbx · 3 years
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Veritaserum Prompt;;
[[ Your character has just ingested a major doze of Veritaserum, and has no option but to answer the following honestly. ]]
- What is a secret that you thought you would take to your grave until now? Something that nobody knows.
“Listen mate, this isn’t my first time playing around this stuff, pretty seasoned vet.   I will tell you something juicey though, I once periodically cut the ends of wormtails trousers for afew months, bugger thought he was hitting a growth spurt.... this was maybe two months ago.”
- What is something that would surprise those close to you?
“Not being funny, but they literally see me every day, whether they like it or not, so its pretty difficult to keep things from them.  Don’t have privacy in our friendship group, personal space... whos that guy?.  Though, I would however like to take this opportunity to say that I Sirius Black can do basic stitches in clothes.  You know sometimes life likes to throw you off your motorbike multiple times and theres only so many times your best mates mum will sort that out for you.”
- What is your greatest fear? I don’t mean what form does your boggart take, I mean what frightens you so much even a boggart could not take that form.  (For example, Dirks’ boggart is watching his mother die over and over, but at his core he is absolutely terrified of never succeeding in life.)
 Danger ha, i laugh in the face of danger!    “I duno, maybe loosing people i love in this war...”
- What are you most self conscious about?
“Self conscious? Me?....  Well i can tell you, it is absolutely NOT my surname.”
- Okay, lets get personal, Who are you in love with?  Do they know?
“LOVE? love? who said anything about love? L-O-V-E? Well clearly you aren’t familiar with me, I’am Sirius Black and I only love myself...yes me, myself and I.   HA why would I love someone else? Someone who is within my friendship group and currently not single?   Nope, no I’ve said enough, oh shut up.”
-Who do you most like to spend time with?
“The lads, Molly, Marlene, Ted, Marlene, Andi... did I say Marlene?  Man, I love M-  *clears throat *I LOVE SPENDING TIME with Marlene.  
-Wha-   oh, it looks like your potion is wearing off, damn!
“Didn’t get much out of me though.... right?”
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sirius-whoisleft · 4 years
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boldness stands alone among the wreck || self-para || ORDER RECRUITMENT
As Sirius left the Headmaster’s office – a place he’d been only a few times, for increasingly unpleasant reasons – he thought about everything he’d been raised to believe about legacies. Which had been a lot.
If Sirius Black had the opportunity to lay a legacy out on the cutting table, knife in one hand and a stomach for dissection, he knew what he’d find if he slit its belly open and took stuck of the sum of its parts. Surnames instead of lungs, and bloodlines that went back hundreds of years. Blackness and gold in equal measure. No lifelines etched into the palms, because with a legacy there was no end to your life – and the beginning, apparently, could be as muddled as you liked. 
The chest would be empty. There was no room for a heart when you were growing a legacy, if one were to take Orion Black at his word; that was why Sirius didn’t have the knack for it. He cared too much, about everything – everything except this one thing everyone in his young life cared far too much about.
It was a lot of useless language just to say: Sirius had been told for so many years of his life that he was expected to leave a legacy – to cultivate it in some dying garden, to step on others’ heads to get the best sunlight awash over his hand-me-down cheekbones, to protect it by sacrificing everything he liked in his life. 
He’d also been told that there was only one way to leave a legacy, to leave your mark on the world in the way that meant it wouldn’t matter that you loved your friends to the point of choking or that your bank account was grotesque or that you’d told Severus Snape how to get past the Whomping Willow.
So – he hadn’t wanted it. He never wanted the things he was told to. He never wanted things in the way he knew he should.
A legacy. It was nothing but something to eschew.
For a while.
Until recently. Maybe up until right now. 
Sirius couldn’t pretend anymore that he was immune to those long, pacing talks in Orion Black’s office that he had to endure – the ones that asked him the questions. What kind of legacy did he want to leave? What names did he want associated with his own, not just in life but in history textbooks?
Orion would look at Sirius with cold, piercing grey eyes that were mirrors of his own and he would ask, “Sirius, don’t you realize that you have the ability to change this world?”
And Sirius hadn’t believed him. Not really. Not until he heard those same words coming from Albus Dumbledore, antithesis of everything his father had been, peering at him with gentle blue eyes that were asking for everything but expecting nothing. 
All Sirius had come to the Headmaster’s office to do today was, truthfully, thank Dumbledore for not kicking him out all the times he had the chance. Not because he wanted to thank Dumbledore for anything. When he thought of the old man he thought of the dizzy look of admiration in Remus’s eyes, and he understood it...but he couldn’t connect it to the fear in Mary’s eyes after the Mulciber attack; to the severe, forced calm on James’s face as he sat in the Hospital Wing next to Lily’s bedside. 
Dumbledore’s legacy, Sirius decided, would be the mistakes he made, not the triumphs.
Sirius’s, though, didn’t have to be. Sirius wanted to fight. There was no use in denying that. He knew his body, knew the old Magick that ran through his veins. He’d felt the coursing power of Unforgiveables; he’d started reaching for fire-starters during duels. He could still feel the dull, crunching impact of Antonin Dolohov’s fist against his eye socket, and he remembered what it was like to dig his fingernails into the other man’s skin in return. 
For so long he’d been at odds between the two halves of himself: the light and the dark, the violent and the violently hopeful. 
And now someone was sitting here, telling him – that he could plant seeds and burn down forests, that he could create and destroy all at once, and that he could do it in the name of something he desperately fucking cared about? 
You can’t tell a single soul what we’ve discussed here today, Dumbledore had said. Sirius thought about that as he climbed the last flight of stairs, the ones that would take him home to the warm embrace of Gryffindor tower. That was almost the dealbreaker. Sirius had always wanted to change the world, sure. But he’d never wanted to do it without his friends. Call him selfish, call him fucking sociopathic for all he cared. He’d rather see the world burn than the people he loved, the people he had left. 
But Dumbledore had let Remus attend Hogwarts. Dumbledore had made James Head Boy. Here was Sirius, twice near-expelled and by all means a risk very few would take a chance on. Sirius wasn’t usually an optimist, but the odds were in his favor that at least one of them, those men he loved so very much in such different ways, would be fighting the good fight by his side. 
They would be able to talk about it eventually. Sirius believed that; he had to. And when he was able to talk about it again, with someone he loved––one person in particular––he resolved to never use Dumbledore’s exact wording, in that request. Best not to bring up things like souls.
As Sirius trudged up the staircase to the Gryffindor boys’ dormitories, he let that warm, sparking feeling take life in his chest – he could see the light leaking out from under Their Door, could trust that the other boys knew he was coming home based on the drag of his feet on the stone steps. When he was this close to his friends, his bed, the room where he’d been kissed by Remus for the first time, it was easier to put things like changing the world and legacies into context. 
Now, Sirius hadn’t hesitated long at all before he agreed, before he thrust out his pale hand and shook Dumbledore’s, swallowing all the acidic complaints and hard-won thanks he’d planned to focus on instead. But it had all seemed...fake back there. Clinical, almost. Dumbledore could talk all he wanted about battle plans and vigilante justice, of small, determined groups of citizens changing the world because they were the only thing that ever had. 
None of that meant much of anything to Sirius. Not as much as thinking about the house he’d one day buy with Remus in the countryside did; with a big lawn and a garden and a covered place to sit during thunderstorms while the clouds rolled in. Not as much as thinking about James laughing at dinner, his arm slung low around Lily’s waist, both of their cheeks red. Not as much as Mary getting her bravery back, and Marlene dancing on top of tables, or Peter looking around the room to make sure his joke had landed at the right moment. 
That was a legacy. That was something he could fight to protect and wanted to be known for. 
And, above fucking all? That’s what was fair. How long had Sirius been saying that it was high time the good folks started making use of the tactics and ruthlessness of the bad? Being polite would get them nowhere. Before, he’d been annoyed that nobody was doing anything; now, ten minutes after receiving his rolled-out-red-carpet to join the fight, he was still annoyed that apparently someone was doing something and it still wasn’t enough.
But those were thoughts for later. Later, when he could stare, strung-out at his ceiling and wonder about what he’d gotten himself into. Wonder if he would be alone in his; wonder if this was something he could do alone. Wonder if his friends would be able to read the lie in the lines of his face as he pushed open the door and greeted them with a smilie. 
Which he did, a moment later – feeling, for the first time in a long time, actually changed. 
Whether that change was for the better or not? Well, that was a problem for another day, too. Legacies were good food for thought, but Sirius was only a student for a few more days. War would continue to lurk and linger, but before he could think about changing the world, Sirius Black had a few things to do. He kissed Remus first. Then he poured a drink. 
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hollowedrpg · 5 years
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CONGRATULATIONS, ELLE! — You’ve been accepted for the role of Lily Potter. When I wrote Lily’s bio, I was truly terrified people respond well to the way she’s portrayed in this roleplay (a widow, a struggling mother stuck in the midst of a war) but you truly captured who she is. She’s kind but not soft, stubborn but not unwilling to change. The war has thrown her curveball after curveball, and she hasn’t been able to catch them all, and you beautifully conveyed how it has affected her. I’m so excited to see where you take her character. 
Thank you so much for applying. Please create your account and send in the link, track the right tags, and follow everyone on the follow list. Welcome to Hollowed Souls!
ooc.
name: elle
age: 27
preferred pronouns: she/her
timezone: gmt
activity: 6/10. i do keep a full-time job and am currently studying a course in data privacy as well hence the 6/10 on activity. however, even if i have a few must’s in life i would keep it as a priority to keep updated on the group and what was going on the dash. for me, it’s important to keep up and post a reply at least every 3rd day.
are you applying for more than one character?: (if so, list your preference in order) not this time. i think.
how do you feel about your character dying?: (in a roleplay centered on war, death is always a possibility. as an admin, it’s best to know ahead of time which players are comfortable with playing it out.)  if it furthers the plot i’m all for it.
anything else?: (questions, concerns, etc.) only that this is a very beautiful and well-made group. i love the innovative thinking!
ic details.
full name: lily magdalene evans potter
few know that lily didn’t let go of her maiden name, that she only added potter at the end. most only assumed, automatically calling her lily potter and barely noting that if she signed something it’d be in lily evans potter. it was a small homage to her muggle heritage, a memory she didn’t want to eradicate and forget. a tiny act of defiance and a finger towards a society that assumes that the woman takes the man’s surname upon marriage.
date of birth: 30 Jan. 1958 ( aquarius )
former hogwarts house: gryffindor
sexuality: bisexual
gender/pronouns: cis-female, she/her
face claim change: no way josé. i’m keeping laura harrier, should i get chosen.
more.
how do you interpret this character’s personality? how will you play them? include two weaknesses & two strengths.
PERSONALITY. kind but honest, it shows itself in her ability to dare questioning people for their belief, but only after she has listened to their concerns. & when she questions its with softness in her voice and wide eyes filled with a will to understand BUT only insofar that there is no offensive words or a string of slurs –– then she bites back, hard. straightforward and honest, lies has always been something lily finds difficult unless they are important, necessary even, and even if she is kind she won’t be able to lie for someone’s feelings not to be hurt. hand in hand with this goes the fact that she cannot stand when people lies to her. she needs the truth, otherwise she doesn’t know if she can trust or what she should believe. this is also where lily can be judgmental. especially when she was younger and didn’t understand why people lied, or rather –– didn’t want to understand why people lied. with age came understanding, however, but only for whitelies. lies with meaning. lily was always smart, quick-witted, and at hogwarts, people believed her top grades came from a gift and whereas lily is intelligent her grades came from hard work. many hours spent in the library with her hair in a messy bun and mascara only put on one pair of eyelashes rather than both.
( + ) kind, honest, hard-working, loyal, brave, quick-witted, resourceful     ( - ) judgmental, stubborn, detached, rigid, defiant
how has the war affected this character, emotionally and otherwise?
before. the war was always there, staring into her eyes & waiting to snap its fangs around her neck. being muggleborn, lily never had the luxury to ignore the divide in society and the cruelty it brought simply because she was the very thing the other side hated. back then, she tried to reason ( she did up until that day )  and understand where their hatred for her & her kind came from but once slurs left their lips she would become fire, scorching earth with her tongue. to be hated simply for what you were born causes anger within, even if lily didn’t let it consume her the flames licked her veins always present, never far. this is where the anger came from when james hadn’t told her of the order. even if the reason was evident ( protection ) she was hardly someone to sit idly by. lily wanted to be part of something, a resistance, and the fact that he had lied ( kept something from her ) hurt. as the war carried on, lily kept her hope that some on voldemort’s side could be reasoned with even if her friend’s would protest. she kept that hope up until it all changes.
after. every night when she goes to bed lily sees him. those eyes that could see through the act of bravery she held up. the last moments she had with him play on repeat in her mind keeping her up at night. in a sense james had been what kept her her even in the midst of war, and with him g o n e she has become more detached from the people around her. not even marlene is here to keep her steady now, to drag her back when her mind spins away or when her edges become too sharp. less smiles are seen on lily’s features and the hair that used to be flowing down her shoulders is most often tied up in a bun. these days she, instead of heated discussions, listens in on the order meetings. suddenly the girl who always had something to say has become quiet. it’s not that she doesn’t have anything to say but she doesn’t have the strength, doesn’t see the point. now she needs to put her son first, and it wouldn’t do him good if she snapped at people sneering at her or putting herself in danger. but underneath the calm surface there is something brewing, a red hot anger that never truly left.
where does this character currently stand? with those who wish to hide in godric’s hollow until the war ends, with those who wish to rebuild the order and continue fighting the war, or on neither side? why?
lily stands on neither side, simply because she currently cannot muster up the strength to continue fighting whole-heartedly nor can she let herself hide in godric’s hollow until the war is over. she has never been a by-stander, even if she is acting like one as she reels from the loss of her husband & marlene, and she knows she can’t be one because she needs to fight for her son & those she’s lost. thus, with harry in her arms she will attend order meetings and listen in, but she won’t speak up ( not yet ). by instinct she does what she believes is best for harry, as any mother would do, and currently it is to remain calm, even if the fire within her shouts for a different solution. there is an anger growing within her, waiting to get out, and for each day the fires roar more loudly –– soon she won’t be able to contain them.
extra.
here you can list or add any extras you created to get a sense of this character. that can include graphics, writing samples, mock blogs, etc. apps that have extras won’t have an advantage over apps that don’t, although it can help me further understand your grasp of the character.
style.
hogwarts. dr martens peeked out under her robes and on days where the uniform was not required she’d be seen in highwaisted denims shorts, fishnet tights and a band t-shirt. sometimes she’d wear highwaisted jeans and a t-shirt. a leather jacket thrown over her shoulders. a camera in her shoulder bag always ready to be taken out and capture a moment. she was never seen without that camera.
now. highwaisted jeans with wide legs.  still dr martens on her feet. white or black t-shirt and a leather jacket. sometimes one of james’ old shirts thrown over her shoulders and tied at the waist. never seen without the golden ring with a ruby stone in it that she was given by marlene on their graduation. it hangs from a golden chain around her neck. on her wedding finger she still wears the wedding bands. not even taking it off when she showers.
tag.
here.
what’s in a name?
( L i l y |flower ) ; the name derives from a flower, which is a symbol for purity. lilies are also linked to the greek goddess hera. lily’s parents named both their daughters after flowers – indicating their view of the purity in them both.
( M a g d a l e n e | cleaned of evil spirits ) ; a pastor, her father, wished to give his daughter a godly name. thus, Magdalene, sprung to his mind. she was to be cleaned of evil spirits, the sun in his eyes.
( E v a n s | young warrior / god is gracious & merciful) ; welsh or gnglish surname deriving from the name evan meaning “young warrior”; it can also mean “god is gracious and merciful” if one follows the interpretation of evans being a form of the name John.
How is Lily coping with being a new mother in the midst of a war?
she’s not. the truth is there in the details, how she gives harry to anyone ( she trusts ) to hold him if they so much as offers and how she sometimes doesn’t hear his cries in the night until they have reached a higher pitch. it’s not as much that she is neglectful as she is tired. lily would never intentionally neglect her son but sometimes when she looks at him she sees how much like him harry is, that she needs to look away because the wound from the loss is still too raw. on the other hand, there is nothing lily wouldn’t do for harry. he is the reason why she leaves her bed in the morning and he is the reason why they are here. there is nothing she wouldn’t do for him, even if she currently needs time to settle into their new circumstances.
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matrixaffiliate · 5 years
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Like the Storybooks
Co-written with @hufflepuffmarlenemckinnon
FFN and AO3
Chapter 16
Over the course of the weeks that passed, since he took on the role as the Princess Marlene’s protector, Sirius had grown accustomed to the way his heart leapt when she took his arm after dinner. Her smile beaming up at him became a familiar sight, as he walked her through the halls and corridors to wherever she was needed on any particular evening.
The ache in his chest that she elicited became almost comfortable. He thought that was probably the best that he could hope for. This feeling did not seem likely to subside. He wasn’t even sure that he wanted it to, if he was being honest with himself.
“Will you be joining Lady McGonagall in her offices this evening, Your Grace?”
The Princess shook her head.
“Sir, you wouldn’t happen to know why the King’s Chief Minister, the brightest mind in the kingdom, seems to have been thoroughly unable to continue our work today after the topic of hogs came up at the end of our meeting prior to supper? I gathered it was something to do with his majesty’s youth, but not much more. I have to admit that I’m dreadful curious.” Her teasing smile made everything in the world seem to go out of focus. There were moments where it felt like they were the only people on earth. Those were the moments they were allowed to be young and in love. Even if it was just a fantasy, those little moments were enough. He lived for those moments.
“Ah, the famed swine incident.”
“Would you really go so far as to call it ‘famed’?” The way she bit down on her lower lip nearly knocked him out of breath. She knew exactly what she was doing to him and by the looks of it, she was really enjoying it.
“Perhaps more so in my own mind. But that was one of our better ones, the king and I.”
“So you claim equal accountability in Lady McGonagall’s uncharacteristic distraction today?”
“Perhaps not equal. Let me explain in earnest. The King and I were freshly out of our squireship under Lord Dumbledore. I’d come to live here at court with his Majesty. We were about 15, I’d say. Lady McGonagall was tasked with tutoring his majesty in matters political but he took this to mean he was being tasked with getting the good Lady to lose her cool. He’d found it a difficult task, to say the least. The chief minister is quite even-tempered, I’m sure you’ve observed.”
“Yes, I’d say she’d be a tough nut to crack. But hearing about the pair of you at that age… oh do get on with it, what nonsense did you inflict on this poor woman?”
“So somehow we became privy to the knowledge that Lady McGonagall is terrified of swine. She has been ever since girlhood, you see. So… being the truly horrendous youths we were…”
“Oh no…”
“We took three great hogs from the yards. Before setting the beasts loose inside the castle, we took care to paint numbers upon their skins; one, two and four.”
Princess Marlene, at that point, gave up all pretense of disapproval and collapsed into a fit of giggles as they reached the doorway to her rooms.
Then they were inside, the door shut behind them and her hands were wrapping around his shoulders. He didn’t have the strength to feel conflicted as he closed the space between them and kissed her without any excuse for doing so.
There was a split second in that heated moment with her hands in his hair and his mouth moving down her graceful neck, that different choices might have been made. But like a coin spinning on its edge before landing heads or tails, the moment was brief and clarity came back to him as she sighed out his name. She didn’t… She couldn’t...know his surname. He wasn’t meant to have one. This could never be anything but a stain on her honor.
He took half a step back and brushed a gentle hand over her flushed cheek. Her blue eyes, darkened with desire, were almost enough to pull him back in. He knew he had to start speaking now lest he forget himself entirely.
“My Princess…I shan’t dishonor you.”
“Would it be dishonorable if I asked it of you?” Her tone was playful as she pulled him back in towards her. “You wouldn’t deny a noble lady’s request now would you Sir Knight?” He indulged himself in a quick brush of his lips against hers before he gathered his resolve and dropped to his knees in front of her.
“Your Grace, my heart is yours. You must know that. I love you, more than I thought it possible for a man like me to love anyone. I… had only ever meant to love my King and country. But you’ve laid claim to my heart and I want to be sure that you know it, even though I can never be worthy of yours.”
Her eyes watered but her smile seemed to break through. “Your words have managed to both warm and break my heart. I do return your love, in kind. Should you find yourself missing the heart you’ve given me, take comfort that you are in full possession of mine.” It was nearly painful for him to look up at her beautiful face as tears started to escape down her cheeks.
He took her hand and kissed her fingers before he could go on.
“My Princess, in a different world I would be kneeling to ask for your hand in marriage, but as I am unsuitable as a husband, I can only ask that you let me love you honorably. Like the knights in stories of courtly love. When I go off to lead the King’s army, it will be your favor I wear. Every victory we win will be because of the strength that loving you gives me. Please, Your Grace. I shan’t dishonor you. You deserve so much more…”
“Sirius…” she pulled on his hand still wrapped around hers, "please stand up. That was all very dramatic and beautiful ...but I would like very much to continue our activities from earlier. Kiss me, Sirius."
“But,�� he stood and her arms returned around his neck, “honor… virtue…other concepts such as those?” This was like the pull that Sir Lancelot felt to Guinevere. In some stories, he maintained her honor, but in all of them, it was his ruination.  Sirius felt his resolve slipping away as he inched close enough that he could feel Marlene’s breath on his neck.
“I think the knights in the Chivalric Romances would allow a little leeway in the realm of kissing,” she was just a mere inch from his lips as she spoke, “do you not agree?”
The spark in her eyes as she toyed with him was going to be the death of him, he was sure of it. Powerless to her charms, he could only nod affirmatively before releasing the hold he had over himself and kissing her perfect mouth with an intensity of emotion that could never in a thousand years be matched with words.
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crimsonrevolt · 7 years
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Congratulations Sierra you’ve been accepted to Crimson Revolt as Lily Evans!
↳ please refer to our character checklist
Sierra -- your application for Lily was absolutely beautiful, just like her. I’ve always had such a difficulty in writing canon characters that have more weight in the books, and you expanded on her with such depth that this application was a beautiful read. The way you expanded on her traits and really dove into what make Lily tick might’ve been my favorite part of this entire application, it made it so clear that you thought through who she is carefully and wove a clear picture of her in your head -- and that only expanded upon your para sample and answers! We’re so excited to have her in our group and to see what you’ll do with our lovely Lily! *your faceclaim change to Mary Kate Wiles has been accepted!
application beneath the cut
OUT OF CHARACTER
INTRODUCTION
My name is Sierra. I’m 26 years old and use the pronouns she/her. I reside in the middle of the US is the Central time zone (CST)
ACTIVITY
I am pretty consistant, I like to think, I can be on at least once a day every day to reply to things, barring something major happening in real life, which I would still be sure to pop in and mention. I would say over all a solid 8/10
TRIGGERS
*removed for privacy
HOW DID YOU FIND US?
Scrolling through the RP tags.
WHAT HARRY POTTER CHARACTER DO YOU IDENTIFY WITH MOST?
I think I always identified the most with Harry himself. He always struck me as the reluctant hero, not one to go out of his way to jump into danger, but knowing that if he didn’t do it, the likelihood that anyone would was slim. He never asked for the title of ‘Chosen One’, he was saddled with it.
ANYTHING ELSE?
This group seems absolutely lovely. (This is not an attempt to butter you up or anything like that, it’s just genuinely lovely as far as the graphics and fonts and things. Very aesthetic.)
IN CHARACTER
DESIRED CHARACTER
Lily Evans. Lily is a flower most associated with purity and everlasting love. Lily Evans displays an extremely warm and open heart, the type of person who is willing to give anyone a chance to be in her heart, and only turning them away when they’ve wronged her.
Evans is derived from the Welsh or English surname 'Evan’. In Welsh, this name means 'young worrior’. While it is true that Lily is loving, she is also fierce, the type of woman who is going to not only be there for the ones she loves, but defend them to the death. She is strong in her opinions and morals, and not afraid to fight for the right and what she believes in.
FACE CLAIM
Mary Kate Wiles is my prefered face claim for Lily, as I feel that she embodies the character wholly. I am also a fan of Molly Quinn and Holand Roden for Lily, and in the masterlist she was listed as Sophie Turner, who would be my fourth choice.
REASON FOR CHOSEN CHARACTER
Lily is the Doe. There’s always something so extremely wonderful about a character who is strong and powerful not only in their actions, but in the way that they love the people in their lives. A woman who can hold her own against a world that chooses to look down on her for something as simple as who her parents were, to not only not let that effect her sense of self, but to let it strengthen her and move her forward in every action that she takes. She doesn’t conform, she doesn’t try to be the person that everyone likes, instead, she is a person that people like because she is true to herself and doesn’t shy away from who she is and who she wants to be.
I’ve always been drawn to Lily as a character because she is the kind of character that opens itself up to a world of fascination. She shows strength of character even in her brief appearances, and she isn’t afraid to be herself, but underneath the surface, there is the insecurity that she hides, the fear that she may not be able to protect her family and friends, and will ultimately fail them.
PREFERRED SHIPS // CHARACTER SEXUALITY // GENDER & PRONOUNS
While I do, of course, love the canon ship that is Jily, I have always also been fascinated by the way that Sevily might have gone, had the feelings been recprocated. However, I am extremely open to all kinds of things in the ship department, exploring dynamics between all characters in things like love, friendship, disdain. I love character development first and foremost and would be apt to try just about anything.
As far as Lily and her views on things, in the department of love and sex, Lily is very much the kind of girl who views romance as beautiful. She likes the idea of little gestures of affection, just sitting and holding hands and being with the person she loves. She isn’t the kind that is going to give herself away to anyone who shows the slightest interest, instead looking for someone who is interested in her whole self, who she is and who she could be and who she wants to be. She is extremely demisexual in my mind, not the kind interested in casual sex, rather, the kind who is only going to be physically and sexually attracted to someone she finds a true and lasting connection with.
She uses the pronouns she/her, and is cis, heteromantic, but demisexual.
CREATE ONE (OR MORE!) OF THE FOLLOWING FOR YOUR CHARACTER: I’ve created a mockblog here, where I’ve done a Moodboard and a post expanding on the character traits. I would be happy to add more, if you would like!
IN CHARACTER QUESTIONNAIRE
♔ If you were able to invent one spell, potion, or charm, what would it do, what would you use it for or how would you use it? Feel free to name it: “I would love to invent a spell in which everyone it was cast on was forced to say exactly what was on their mind for a few hours. It would be refreshing to see people being honest and open with one another for a short while, even if things weren’t all sunshine and daisies. A simple little truth spell, much like Veritserum.”
♔ You have to venture deep into the Forbidden Forest one night. Pick one other character and one object (muggle or magical), besides your wand, that you’d want with you: “The obvious answer would be that I would have to take Marlene McKinnon with me. Brave and adventurous woman who could lead the way and help me fight off anything that stands in our path. As for an object, it would be nice to have a flashlight, wouldn’t it, so that we could see and still have our wands free for spells if necessary.”
♔ What kinds of decisions are the most difficult for you to make? “There’s a certian difficulty that comes with any decision you ever have to make, isn’t there? After all, one must weigh the pros and cons of everything, even for things as simple as what to eat, you have to consider how it’s going to sit on your stomach, how it will effect the rest of your day, things like that. I’m the kind of person who takes all decisions very seriously, but I suppose when thinking on it, any decision that involves another person can be rather difficult, considering it’s no longer just myself I’m having to worry about.”
♔ What is one thing you would never want said about you? “That I’m untrue to myself. I try to be an honest person, open and real about who and what I am. I would never want anyone to think I’m fake in any way.”
WRITING SAMPLE
Wake up, Lily. It’s just a bad dream, it’ll be over if you wake up, wake up.
With a jolt, Lily shot upright in the bed, hand pressing roughly against her chest to feel the way her heart pounded there, almost breaking through the skin and landing in her palm. What kind of nightmare was it supposed to be, she wondered. Some kind of warning, a cry out, simply something to shock her system and send her reeling. She wasn’t sure, but the scattered and flashing images of the dream were slowly fading away into nothing, leaving her in just the dark of her bedroom, surrounded by four familiar walls that weren’t closing in or dangerous in anyway. A sigh left her chest as she adjusted in her place, pulled her legs up to her chest and wrapped her arms around them. She would need a moment, she knew, to recover before going for a glass of water.
Try as she might, capturing little snippets of the dream in her mind, trying to recapture the moments that had startled her out of sleep in the first place, seemed difficult. There was a forest, one she thought could have been the Forbidden Forest, dark and winding and she followed the winding path deeper and deeper in, looking for something. She couldn’t say what she was searching for, really, besides just the intangible something.
Perhaps it was for the best, being unable to recall the dream. She assumed that it couldn’t mean anything too terrible, at any rate, and even if she were any good at dream interpretation, she had never exactly found it interesting or logical. Bare feet hit the cold wood of her bedroom floor as she crawled out of bed and headed into the bathroom, flipped on the light and squinted at her reflection in the mirror. She was not surprised to see matted and tangled hair, eyes bloodshot and with shadows of circles rimming them. She would have to get more sleep, and soon, but her mouth felt dry and she needed to let her heart slow down. A quick pour from the tap and she was sipping slowly on a glass of water, mind turning over and over. Things were going alright, weren’t they? Why the nightmare. Perhaps the overall atmosphere of the world was making her nervous, making her jittery. She had no idea, she would need to find a way to relax, destress.
Things were going to be okay. She simply had to remind herself of that.
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so, first off, credit where credit is due: in october of last year, @alrightevans reblogged this post by @pensversusswords, and that inspired this jily one shot. and yeah, it literally did take me ten months to write a 2.8k fic. don’t judge. it’s been a long year for all of us.
disclaimer: literally everything i know about firefighters is from the fireman sam episodes i’ve watched with my brothers (side note: that town has a crazy-disproportionate amount of fires). so, expect mistakes in that regard.
so with out further ado, the muggle!firefighter!jily au. enjoy!
Lily’s already dressed, down the pole, and ready to go, waiting in the passenger seat of the truck before she realises no one else is coming.
She blinks. Did she imagine…? No, there’s the brigade siren, wailing in the background. It won’t shut off until the truck drives out.
Lily blinks again. Pinches herself. Yes, she’s definitely awake.
Why isn’t anybody coming? Some poor civilian home is going up in flames right now. A child could be dying. Or already dead.
Lily looks around. The siren has been going off for a minute and a half now, and none of her fellow firefighters are coming. This has never happened before. They’re a professional bunch. Fire Captain McGonagall keeps them all in line.
She hears a clank from the the second floor, a muffled curse, and a moment later she sees Marlene sliding down the pole.
“What’re you all waiting for, then?” Lily asks her.
“Could ask you the same thing,” Marlene grumbles. “Just go. Siren won’t turn off until you do. We’re trying to sleep, you know.”
Lily blinks at her in disbelief. “I know we haven’t cleaned this windshield in…ever, but it looks like you’re just standing there, in your pyjamas, not getting on the truck and driving us to the fire.”
“And,” says Marlene.
“And what?”
“We haven’t cleaned this windshield in ever and it looks like I’m just standing there. But’s the wrong preposition.”
“But and and are both conjunctions!” calls their fellow fire-fighter, Mary MacDonald, from their bunks.
“Shut up and go already!” Benjy Fenwick says, sleep and anger evident in his voice even though he is on the top floor, with Mary.
“Marlene, people are dying! Let’s go!”
“Honestly, Lily no one’s dying. Haven’t you seen the location?”
“What’s it matter–”
“It’s at that dumb bloke’s. The one on Gryffindor. He just moved there six weeks ago, and he’s called the department fourteen times. He’s an idiot,” Marlene says, quite confidently, “and McGonagall says we don’t have to go anymore.”
“What?” Lily cries. “Are you–is she–for real?”
“Evans, really, calm down–”
“You’re sentencing a civilian to death because you don’t like him! And McGonagall’s all right with it!”
“No one’s sentencing him to any sort of death, honestly, and I didn’t say I didn’t like him. But he’s a right dolt.”
“This is insane,” Lily says, half to herself, and throws herself in the driver’s seat. “This is insane,” she says again, slamming her foot down on the gas.
The drive to Gryffindor Court is a short one, but Lily feels every second, certain that this poor man is locked in his own home, smoke clouding his vision and his throat, his body trying and failing to fight the heat. Lily can nearly feel the flames licking her own form, feel the fire climbing up her legs….
Ugh. This is why she isn’t supposed to take the truck anywhere alone. Under Fire Captain McGonagall, no one’s supposed to take the truck anywhere alone, but she specifically. And though she pretended to be very upset at being singled out so, she was secretly very grateful.
Dumbledore had been a little more…liberal, as Fire Captain.
The truck’s siren is the only the light in the night, and she can’t hear any screams or smell any smoke, so it is abundantly clear even before she reaches the split-level house on Gryffindor that there is no fire.
Still, there might be a gas leak! Marlene and the others have no way of knowing until they show up! And even if the poor man’s just a nervous civilian, well, isn’t it there job to calm him down?
Lily sheds her heavy protective gear as she throws the truck in park and leaps out, racing to the door. She pauses for a moment and looks around. The house is clearly meant for more than one family, and she’s not sure what storey the caller is on. Then again, protocol states that she has to evacuate everyone under the roof if there’s a gas leak or something of the sort.
Just as she’s decided to start with the ground floor, a voice from above her shouts, “Oi! Up here!”
Lily takes a step back on the porch and looks up. A man is half-out a window on the top floor, waving his arms.
A rather young man. Lily is surprised. By Marlene’s description, she’d been expecting someone older. Elderly, perhaps.
“Don’t think they’ve sent you before!” he says cheerfully. “Can you come get me down?”
“Yes; can you tell me what’s happened, sir?” she calls back up, over the wail of the siren.
“No real cause for alarm! Just knocked over some furniture by accident and barricades the door, and set my smoke detector off! You know how it is!” He winks at her.
Lily blinks. How did one “accidentally” knock over enough furniture to barricade the door hard enough to keep themselves locked inside, and what reason would a smoke detector have for going off in the small hours?
But she’s a far better firefighter to civilians than the likes of Marlene and Mary and Benjy and she’s determined to prove it.
“I’ll be right up, sir,” she says.
“Cheers!”
Lily goes back to the truck and flicks the siren off and before setting up the ladder. She’s never gone up without her crew-mates, but she’s not particularly worried about falling or anything. This isn’t the highest she’s ever had to go, and with no real threat, she’s not in any rush.
Lily climbs into the carriage the ladder holds and steers it up towards the man with the controller. When she reaches the second-floor window, the man has his head down, rubbing the bottom of his shirt furiously on something. Lily can’t quite make out what he’s holding because there are no lights on in his flat. She can’t see his face very well.
“The smoke really wasn’t doing anything to help my glasses,” he says in a much softer voice than his previous yelling-down-thirty-feet, looking up to her questioning face.
“So there is smoke?” she says sharply.
“Oh, no, there was–I was cooking, and I, er, messed up a bit. But no need to worry, I’ve put it out.” He smiles at her, and Lily smiles back.
Okay, so he’s maybe a little eccentric! Is that a crime? He seems perfectly kind; Lily doesn’t know why no one else would come. He isn’t the only frequent flyer they’ve had, and knocking over the furniture and accidentally setting the smoke alarm off is far from the stupidest thing Lily’s ever been called in for. Not since Fifty Shades of Grey came out.
“So, I’m going to help lift you out, sir” Lily says, inching closer to the window.
The man nods and puts on his glasses. He does a double take.
Lily turns around, expecting to see something frightening. “Sir, are you all right?” she asks, concerned.
“They’ve never sent you before!” he says, eyes wide. Slowly, his face splits into a broad grin. “I’d remember you.”
“Er,” she says. “Er, no, I’ve never answered any of your calls before. Anyway, have you ever been through this window before? Do you know what to do, sir?”
“You can call me James,” he says, and he winks.
Winks.
Lily stifles a groan. Marlene’s reaction is becoming more and more clear.
“Sir…James,” she says at his pointed look, “I’m sure you’d like to get back to…er, your regular schedule, so if you could just start by slowly sitting on the ledge–”
“Whoa, what’s the hurry, firelady?” he says, raising his hands up. “Why don’t you come inside for a minute? Have a drink? When’s the last time you’ve had a drink? You work too hard….” He eyes her arms, lean muscles visible in the light of the street lamps, whose glow just miss the man’s form and flat . “I can tell,” he says, and winks again.
Lily bites back more than just a groan this time. She can see why even McGonagall said they didn’t have to come here anymore.
“Sir, please, just ease yourself into the basket, all right?”
“What’s your name?” he says, ignoring her. Still smiling though. Quite broadly.
“Firefighter Evans,” she says shortly.
“Evans…that’s a nice name. Is that your surname? Mine’s Potter. James Potter’s always sounded great to me, but there’s something about Evans…James Evans. Yeah, even better.” And for the third time in the span of one minute (and the fourth time so far), he winks!
Lily’s about ready to gouge his eyes out.
“Sir,” she says, through gritted teeth, “if you don’t climb out yourself, protocol says I need to get a crew inside and carry you.”
“Oh, I bet you could do it yourself,” Potter says flirtatiously. “You must spend a lot of time rescuing people from burning buildings, eh, Evans?”
“No, it’s mostly just unlocking balcony exists for idiots who jam their front doors and the like,” she says, unable to stop herself. “Not a lot of them have friends they can call to use a spare key, see.”
Her eyes widen as soon as she hears herself finish her sentence. He may be a prat, but he’s still a civilian who called for help, and even if Fire Captain McGonagall said they don’t have to show up, she still did, and he could have her put on trial, he could have her investigated, he could have the whole brigade–
Lily’s panicked thoughts are cut off by laughter.
“Guess that’s what it looks like,” he says, chortling still. “But I do have friends! They’ve just, well…they’ve had enough of me calling for help lately,” he admits sheepishly.
Now Lily’s the one who laughs.
“And I thought I’d gone and scared off the the whole of the fire department,” he says, oddly encouraged by her laughter, “but then you showed up! I’ve gotten Firefighter McKinnon loads before–she doesn’t like me very much–and Firefighter Fenwick, too, he saw me at my worst, I think. There was a slight gas-leak situation, but whatever, it all worked out in the end. One time I met your Fire Captain! She was definitely charmed, I could tell. She was only pretending to be irritated. Hard-to-get, you know the type.”
James winks yet again, and this time, it makes Lily laugh.
“You could come inside, you know,” he says. “I’m going to try and make the recipe I just messed up. I think I’ve got it figured out.”
Lily laughs again, and she wonders if he’s really that funny or if it’s the hour.
“I can’t,” she says. “I’ve got to get you out and bring the truck back. I’m not supposed to take it out by myself.”
“Oh, so no one else would come rescue me!” James says, connecting the dots. “And you’re my knight in shining armour.” He–what else?–winks. And oddly enough, it’s growing on her.
“Come on,” she says, “let me help you out.”
James seats himself on the ledge and Lily takes hold of his legs. James ducks his head and shifts the rest of his body outside. Lily wraps an arm around his torso, and is carefully holds him for a few seconds before she sets him down beside her.
“You really are strong,” he says, but now that he’s fully engulfed in light and she can take him in, she doesn’t have an answer. Or the ability to speak.
Lily’s not quite sure what hits her first. How handsome he is, or that he’s not wearing trousers.
He’s obviously used to his own face, and he can’t see it anyway, so he’s clearly not distracted by it. And as for his literally-not-wearing-trousers-situation, well…he doesn’t seem to be the least bit bothered.
Lily looks up at the sky, behind her, down at the truck, anywhere but at him. She hits the controller with such force her hands stings, but that doesn’t make it go any faster.
“How long have you been a firefighter for?” he asks her.
“Couple years,” she mumbles, hoping he can’t see how red she is in the lighting.
“I think it’s really noble, you know. Better than what the police do, and you don’t get half the credit! I think you lot are the real heroes.”
Ah, Lily can’t avoid his face at that. “I think you’re right,” she says, grinning despite herself. They have a rivalry with the local police precinct, obviously. The police do have more rapport and generate more awe with the civilians and they never let Lily’s brigade forget it.
“When do you get off?” he asks.
“What?” Lily squeaks. Yes, squeaks.
“When do you get off call? Or duty, whatever it’s called.”
“Oh,” she says, somehow going redder. “Oh, I’m off call at eight this morning.”
“Breakfast?”
“Suppose so,” Lily says, shrugging.
James laughs as they finally reach the truck. “No, I mean, with me. A date.”
Lily’s eyes widen. Is he seriously asking her out on a date? At three in the morning? As she rescues him from the house he locked himself inside? Trouser-less?
And is she seriously considering?
“I can cook,” he adds, smiling at her.
“Ha!” Lily says. “Can you really?”
“Breakfast I can cook!” he says indignantly. “Pancakes and waffles and orange juice and cereal and the like.”
“You don’t cook orange juice and cereal!”
“Whatever, I mean I’m excellent at pouring.”
“Oh, of course,” Lily says. She laughs–again! She’s never made this much conversation with a civilian while on duty before. Much less this pleasant.
“All right, then, James,” she says. “I’ll swing by when I get off call.”
“Brilliant,” he says, grinning.
Lily smiles as she leads him out of the ladder’s basket and onto the ground.
“My name’s Lily, by the way,” she says.
“Lily. Firefighter Lily Evans. Pleased to meet you, Firefighter Lily Evans.”
Hearing her full title always picks her up, but something about his voice makes it sound particularly lovely. “Pleased to meet you too, Civilian James Potter. Erm, also, where is the entrance to your floor?”
“Oh, er,” says James. “It’s not a split-level. I mean, it used to be, but a long time ago we made it a one-family house.”
“Oh,” Lily says, nodding slowly.
“Yeah, suitable for a big family. Lots of guests…and friends.” James pauses for a moment. “Er, I grew up in this house, actually. I just moved back in. It had been empty for a while….” James hesitates. “My parents passed away,” he said, shifting his gaze away.
“Oh,” Lily says again, softer. “Oh, I’m sorry, James.” Then, her voice softer still, she says, “My parents passed away, too.”
James looks at her again. “Sorry,” he says. His voice falls flat, but Lily knows it’s not from lack of compassion. She understands. “Cancer?”
“No,” she says, shaking her head, her voice barely a whisper. She holds her hands together. “A fire.”
“Ah,” James says.
They both look away. They catch each other’s eye after a moment…and giggle.
James swallows. “Bit early for this, I think,” he says.
“Yeah,” she agrees. “We’ll want to discuss this at a proper late hour, like eight or nine.”
“Eight or nine,” echoes James. He purses his lips. “You mind if we don’t spend all of breakfast talking about our dead parents?”
“If I had known your parents were dead before you asked me, I wouldn’t have said yes,” Lily says. Then she wants to throw herself under the truck.
He’s clearly just lost them! There’s no way he’s gotten to the dark-humour zone yet! Not this way, not this fast!
But he does laugh, to her immense relief.
“It’s good,” he says. “Laughing is good. I feel like everyone wants me to still be, like, crying all the time…laughing a little is good.”
“Just ignore everyone else,” Lily tells him. “It’s such a confusing time…you hardly know what you want. So if you think you’re doing something that feels good, keep doing it. Sometimes you cry. Sometimes you laugh. But don’t listen to people when they tell you it’s a straight progression, because that’s such a lie. There are ups and downs and lefts and rights. It’s not a diagonal line on a graph, it’s more of a series of loops on both side of the paper.”
James eyes light up. “That’s it,” he says. “That’s it exactly.”
Lily tucks a lock of hair behind her ear. “I’d better head back,” she says, climbing into the driver’s seat. “Fire Captain McGonagall can’t know I’ve been out…well, you’ve met her. But I’ll see you in a few hours.”
“Can’t stay away, can you?” he says, and he winks again.
“Guess not,” she says, and she winks too.
James’ eyes widen, and she can’t blame him. She’s surprised even herself tonight.
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ratrpg · 7 years
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He doesn't know which is worse, a past he can't regain or a present that will destroy him if he looks at it too clearly. Then there's the future. Sheer vertigo.
JAMES FLEAMONT POTTER
Twenty
Pureblood
Active member of the Order of the Phoenix
FACECLAIM. ELLIOT KNIGHT. * JAMES IS A POC
BIOGRAPHY
Until James’ parents married, the surname Potter was synonymous with wealth, a huge estate in Cornwall, and a relative acceptance of the status quo. Playing the pureblood game was something his parents paid only lip service to: James still remembers stuffy pureblood balls, he and Sirius skiving away to avoid the long-winded speeches or (Merlin help them) dancing. But being the only son to parents who tried very hard, for a long time, to have children, James grew up with a silver spoon in his mouth. He was doted on, praised for the smallest accomplishments, and wanted for nothing. For most of his childhood James was a charming, cheeky lad who could grin his way out of almost anything. Combined with his prowess on the quidditch pitch, and his tendency towards false flattery, James was a terror with a shock of dark hair, a glittering expression, and skin so swarthy he was like polished bronze. He was, in short, the golden boy.
Hogwarts was an extension of his childhood, with James expecting to be popular and, to the surprise of no one, achieving it. What he hadn’t expected was to make friends with the most unlikely group of boys, and what’s more, they taught him to pull his head out of his arse and to actually grow up. That growing up took a long time, but James is now a far calmer, more level version of his younger self. He is still determined and vain, and modesty is hard to come by, but James is sincere, earnest, and faultlessly generous. His openness and warmth are qualities that made him an obvious candidate to be Head Boy -- which of course brought him straight in line with the one Lily Evans. James is a romantic, which was why snogging Lily in abandoned classrooms sort of took him by surprise. He wore his heart on his sleeve, and when Lily finally said yeah, alright then, he felt like he could float on air. Where Lily is sarcastic and clever, James is big-hearted and attentive. When they were at school, that combination worked. After graduation it was a different story.
Joining the Order was a no-brainer. Of course, his parents weren’t too thrilled. They weren’t happy when he announced what he was a part of, and they didn’t like the fact he and Sirius moved into old Alphard’s flat the second graduation was over. James had asked Lily to move in and she had, unexpectedly, said no. But James is nothing if not patient and determined, and he knows she will come around eventually. The war has demanded more of James than he really thought possible. As someone who is used to getting his way, it has been a hard lesson to learn that real life is far less forgiving. But James has pushed all of his passion, his intensity, and burning brilliance into the Order, and it has paid off. He isn’t a rising star -- he’s a comet.    
Something that has occupied him recently -- in all the mess of war, how brilliant is that? -- is his mixed feelings about the future. James wants a family, he wants to settle down. But Lily definitely doesn’t want that, and in a war there are bigger things to worry about. James feels like he is trying to hold onto things that no longer exist, as if all his plans, his golden future, are rapidly disappearing into the ether, never to be seen again. 
CONNECTIONS
LILY EVANS. GIRLFRIEND. For a very long time, what they had was perfect. Although they argue (a lot), they always make up (usually with sex). James knows it is hardly the most healthy relationship, but he loves Lily and he wants -- needs -- it to work with her. But he feels Lily slipping away from him day by day, and he has no idea how to stop it.
SIRIUS BLACK. BEST FRIEND / ROMANTIC INTEREST. What he has with Sirius is... complicated. If James can look past the excuses he makes to himself, the countless reasons and explanations, he knows that no one knows him like Sirius does. No one can turn him on like Sirius does. There have been a handful -- no pun intended -- of nights over the years, and James doesn’t know what it means; what it makes him. 
REMUS LUPIN. CLOSE FRIEND / MARAUDER. James has been trying to give Remus some money since they all left school. But Remus, the proud git, won’t have any of it. They’re extremely good mates. James is used to Remus being secretive, but when he finds another of Remus’ walls, he can’t help but feel hurt.
PETER PETTIGREW. CLOSE FRIEND / MARAUDER. It was always Sirius who was cruel to Peter. And perhaps James hurt Pete just as much whenever he tried to diffuse the tension with a joke instead of telling Sirius to shove off. The truth is that James hates to go against Sirius, but he hates thinking that Peter is upset. 
MARLENE MCKINNON. CHILDHOOD FRIEND. The McKinnons are a clan that the Potters only saw at pureblood functions, but the vivacity of Marlene and her brothers brought them all together as easily as if they were related. James and Marlene are very similar, and they have an honest, good-natured friendship that is filled with drinking games, ribald jokes, and weird confessional evenings after parties. 
DORCAS MEADOWES. FRIEND. Dorcas is one of the most perceptive people James has ever met. The fact that after a couple of drinks or some weed he tends to get a bit loose-lipped is sometimes cause for concern. She would never judge him, but James sometimes panics about the things he might have admitted and has since forgotten. 
HESTIA JONES. FRIEND. Lily likes a project, so when she started sticking up for Hestia, James was pissed off. He and Hestia get along pretty well, mainly because he thinks she is stronger than everyone else believes.
ASSOCIATED MUSIC
IMPOSSIBLE by Band of Skulls
SONGS ABOUT YOUR GIRLFRIEND by Los Campesinos!
COLLEGE by Rogue Wave
james is taken
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wam-project · 5 years
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Multi-modal Project #1
The concept of wanting to explore the complexity navigating my sexuality came from a process of remapping my own life after a particularly difficult week, which resulted in me having to completely reprioritize what I was doing with my time, my work, and myself. In this self-reflection I had to consider I the romantic relationships and how complex it was to navigate my experiences as a queer person as soon as I began to meet other queer people. The outward presentation of my sexuality was in great conflict with the discourse of my peers. I realized this concept would be incredibly difficult to explain without any sort of visual aid, something that could whittle a complex system into something digestible. Maps are inherently always levels of abstraction away from what they represent, but ultimately they convey the information needed as it highlights the pertinent information. I took heavy influence from Scott McCloud’s discussion of abstraction in Understanding Comics, in which he states, “by stripping down an image to its essential ‘meaning’ an artist can amply that meaning in a way realistic art can’t”. (McCloud, p.30)
I designed this as a brochure, the inside being the map with a legend and the stops, like a branded guidebook similar to what you would see on the Metra. This was to be designed in Illustrator with intent for printing if the chance were ever to arise. I wanted to create something that was could be held by the viewer, something that required the viewer to interact with directly as an intentionality of understanding and reading the map is added. But how would I lay it out? What information needed to be included? How could I make something complex into something simple? I determined a few things, I would utilize the colors of flags of the LGBT community, primarily bisexual, as the train lines for any romantic prospects. Blue for male, magenta for female, and purple for non-binary identities. Ultimately, I realized that I shouldn’t restrict the navigation of my identity to simply only my romantic prospects, as this is not really where my difficulties sorting out my identity stemmed from, but rather I should include my general friendships as a line too, marked in grey. Additionally, each “stop” would be marked with why it’s an important note in my life, from “12 - First Crush” to “22- Now”.
Marlene Martinez’s essay “Tongue of Lead” was something that upon first reading, I found incredibly moving, it spoke to a very critical part of my identity as a very light-skinned Latino person in the US. However, upon further reflection I found that my sexual orientation and relationships began to work within the major concept of her piece. Notably the difficulties in navigating my own identity stemmed from what I knew about myself conflicting with the personal discourses of others. Of note Martinez writes, “How can you carry a Mexican surname and speak no Spanish?” (Martinez p.84). While quite literally, it poses the question of what is an identity if you fail to satisfy all the “proper conditions”. When reeled back, it was questioning what it meant to be existing under an identity but not necessarily living it out in the way that others have expectations of. Immediately when I was exposed to queer men, I became incredibly insecure. It felt as if I had become a member of a community and immediately became a pariah. It caused me to feel broken and alienated. There was a barrier that was created because of my personal sense of identity navigation.
These people I couldn’t particularly identify with because I grew up with a predominantly heteronormative lens and ideation of how relationships are structured. Meaning, typically longer term, single-partner, committed relationships. So, upon entering college, I was sort of faced with the fact that, this was not predominantly how things worked amongst the gay male community. It was incredibly daunting and made me incredibly averse to many of those people because it was experiences that I felt like were almost caricature-like in nature, because my only exposure to the way they spoke or dressed was when it was a punchline on a TV show. There were ways of dressing, speaking, acting, and even media to enjoy that I had never come across earnestly. So I didn’t understand, enjoy, or participate in any of these things as I spent most of my time doing what I knew I enjoyed and not knowing that I had been blind to an entire discourse throughout the entirety of my entire teenage years. I was considered “straight-passing” in all respects, which made me feel as if I never was quite on the same page as them. I had access to terms and words like “gay”, “straight”, “bi”, and “trans”. But I didn’t have access to understanding things like “twink”, “chaser”, or “wig”, which even currently I still don’t have command over a lot of terms or phrases or knowledge that these people have. Martinez writes, “I resented my lead tongue and the barrier that it brought me,” (Martinez, p.85), which in my case is a personal disconnect from them by way of expression of orientation.  There is an expectation to act and dress a certain way and I had failed “to ‘pull off’ a complex performance, where ’pull off’—to be ‘right’—here means getting others to recognize and accept you (and what you are doing) as a gang member, honor student, or hip-hop fan at the ‘right’ times and places” (Gee, pp. 1-2) I didn’t have any speech patterns, knowledge of slang, or knowledge of who were considered “queer icons”. I only began to know these things within the past year, as in the age of twenty-one.
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Sirius didn't expect it to happen so soon. He didn't expect it to happen at all. He hated himself. Why was he so bloody stupid?! Thinking that he could actually go through his Gryffindor school years smoothly, without problems. He. Was. Bloody. Wrong. His name was blasted off the Black family tree, despite the pleas of Regulus and Narcissa. Not even the letter that Andromeda Tonks wrote to the household begging for her not to do it worked. Bellatrix, engaged to disgusting Rodulphus, was said to smirk in pride when Sirius's own freaking mother did it. The act of permenantly making Sirius an outcast. Sirius Black, is no longer part of his family. Even if he hated it, rebelled against it, fought against their traditions, he never expected it to come down so harshly to this. Sirius, mad with grief, ripped off his Gryffindor tie, cheeks stained with tears, his concerned younger brother pounding the portrait of the Fat Lady, attempting to get into the Gryffindor Common Room. Sirius blocked out Regulus's panicked voice, and he just lay in bed, crying. His sobs were muffled with a pillow as he just lay in bed crying. What surname will he use now? He can't just be known as Sirius. What was the reaction of his other family members? Graduation day is a week away, what name will he use? Did he really deserve this? A million questions ran through his mind. He must have fallen asleep as Remus was shaking Sirius, gently saying, "Siri, it's time for dinner." Surrounding him was James without his usual playful grin and Peter who was looking at the ground, not meeting Sirius gaze with confidence anymore. Sirius pushed off Remus's hand and turned to the other side of his bed. "I'm not hungry." He murmured. "Padfoot, please." Sirius automatically knew it was James. Sirius half-heartingly shook his head. He just wanted to be swallowed by the shadows, and die. After a few more useless prodding, Peter and James sighed and they got up to leave. They knew Sirius still needed time to recover. "How about I bring dinner up to you?" Remus said, lowering himself down to Sirius's eye level. There was something inside Remus's voice that Sirius just couldn't place and an odd glint sparkled in his amber eyes. "Fine." Sirius gave in, causing Remus to break out in a cute little laugh that caused Sirius's right side of his lip to twitch up. Half an hour later, Remus came up, holding a few dishes and a few others are floating with a hovering charm. Sirius's mouth involuntarily watered at the sight. There was Turkey covered in cherry gravy, pineapple rice, mango peach smoothie and there was even Treakle Tart covered in strawberry and chocolate sauce. A cube of red cheese (made by Red Cows in England) also lay near the Treakle Tart. His boyfriend smirked, "Dig in." Sirius must have been hungrier than he thought because he devoured the dishes, with Remus watching at the end of the bed. Soon, he reached the last part of the meal. The red cheese cube. He bit into it, only to find something weird inside. He took that weird part out, and there was a piece of paper. Heart pounding, Sirius slowly unwrapped the note. It said, "Do you want to be my husband or is this too cheesy for you?" Sirius screamed of joy as he covered his mouth with his hand. He grabbed Remus's neck and hugged him tightly. Sirius was crying again. Merlin, he's such a baby. Crying all day, but he didn't care. This is the happiest/saddest day of his life, it's weird and confusing, but great. "I guess this is a yes?" Remus patted Sirius's silky hair. Sirius nodded with new found enthusiasm. Remus said, "Sorry about having no ring, I just planned it today. Afterall, by Ministry of Magic you'll have no surname. Don't worry about underage marriage and all that. Rule #1783 of..." Sirius tried to pay attention to the speech of his new husband. But he couldn't. He just looked at his beautiful Remus and kissed his pink lips. Perfect. GRADUATION DAY Sirius smiled at Remus. Nobody, not even his friends, knowed that Remus proposed to him. Afterall, Sirius was only at the Gryffindor Dorm for the past week With only Remus. Doing... stuff. He sat down, grinning at a James who were doing a secret Thumbs Up and Peter who waved at him. They all shared a barely concealed laugh. The day before the Graduation Ceremony, Sirius got out of the Gryffindor Dorm to spend time with a happy Peter and James. They planned to shoot fireworks when Sirius's name was called (although the two boys didn't know why). They also planned to make a speech at the end of the Graduation Ceremony. "Sikhil Plarte!" Professor Dumbledore called out. A Racenclaw boy scrambled up to the stage. Sirius chewed his lips nervously. He was next. He planned to reveal his engagement when his name was called out. What happen if the reactions weren't good? But it was too late to change anything. "Next up, is Sirius Lupin!...?" Proffesor Dumbledore squinted at his name, as if it was another prank, but it wasn't. Fireworks exploded into the air, and all the students cheered for Sirius who was grinning wildly on stage. "Are you serious?" Proffesor Mcgonagall paced up the stage asking, but when she saw Sirius about to open his mouth to make the pun, she switched, "Is this true?" Sirius nodded with happiness. Proffesor Dumbledore held out his right hand smiling at Professor Mcgonagall. She grumbled and fished out from her pockets 10 galleons and gave it to him. Remus climbed on stage and kissed Sirius to confirm that yes, they were engaged. James, Peter, Lily and Marlene congratulated them. A few girls in the audience grumbled as they wanted to have Sirius and a few homophobic boys booed and threw things at the snogging couple. Sirius didn't care. He had Remus. And besides, they were already hexed fiercly by James and Lily, with Peter and Marlene helping to hide the breathing bodies. Sirius and Remus gasped for air as they break off their kiss. Headmaster went on stage and used a Sonerus charm, he boomed, "Students! Calm down! The Graduation Ceremony will continue on!" After 10 minutes of patting the husbands on their backs, everybody settled down. "Lastly, Zyna Morich!" A Slytherin girl shook hands with Professor Dumbledore and collected her certificate. It's the last day of Hogwarts. Teachers are attempting not to cry. "Let's lighten the mood, shall we?" Remus hollered to break the silence. The marauders +Lily went up on stage. Filch tried to get out his seat to catch the "rascals" but to no avail. He was glued to his seat. James hollered cheerfully, "Hello friends, teachers, Headmasters, enemies and people I have no idea who they are!" A ripple of laughter broke out. "Well, I'd like to tell you that after 7 years of Hogwarts, Lily is finally my girlfriend!" A certain Slytherin (*cough* Snivellus *cough*) booed and jeered. "One surprising thing is that we became friends with the Slytherins! It may have or have not happen because Proffesor Mcgonagall promised to reward Gryffindor 75 points for interhouse unity!" The Slytherins and Gryffindors laughed as an outraged Professor Mcgonagall struggled to get out of her seat. "We were also known to be, Quote by Professor Sparrow, 'The most horrible students she ever met'. Whoop!" Hollered Peter. Sirius took over and looked at Filch. "Hey Filch! You made our days at Hogwarts fun and exciting because we keep on running away from you! So we decided to give you this." Remus walked over to a grumbling Filch and gave him a cute baby cat. Filch's face became red and Remus thought he said "Mrs. Norris". Lily winked and smiled sweetly, "Bye peeps! We may or may not have caused the explosion in the Great Hall that had everybody to say things in rhyme for three days!" And the 5 disapparated away (Headmaster had removen the barrier as parents wanted to watch the students) cackling with glee. Everybody sat in shock as they processed Lily's words. Then, they became furious and tried to follow them but they were stuck to their chairs. It took two hours to undo the complicated spell which includes reversing a potion effect on the chairs (Professor Slughorn and Mcgonagall was mildly impressed). THE END
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