#Once again I be out here thinking about Death Eater Alastor

[toomanyfandoms-notenoughfics]

Celestial Beings

𝘊𝘩𝘢𝘱𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘖𝘯𝘦: 𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘉𝘦𝘨𝘪𝘯𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨

Characters- Alastor Moody, Molly Weasley, Reader

Summary- It's an introduction to our Reader's situation, laying the groundwork for the rest of the story. Don't worry, Remus and Sirius will be in the next chapter.

Word Count- 1,342

Warnings- None really for this chapter, slight mention of torture

Confusion is the first thing (y/n) felt. Then it was the raging headache and the pain in her lower abdomen. She opened her eyes, only to be met with more darkness, the sound of dripping water echoing throughout whatever room she was in. (Y/n) was not sure of how she got here, or even as to where “here” is.

The last thing (y/n) remembered was sneaking out of Borgin and Burke’s while everyone else was distracted. Just needing a bit of fresh air. Then, right as she shut the door and rounded the corner, there was a flash of color and the world went dark.

Suddenly the old iron door swung open with enough force to make the cement wall behind it crumble ever so slightly. Light followed soon after, the person who had entered silently casting Lumos. (Y/n) squinted, trying to grow accustomed to the now very bright room, shielding her eyes with her arm.

“You’re up,” grunted the man. “Finally we can talk.”

(Y/n) stayed silent, taking the opportunity to survey the room they were in. Room was too nice of a word, it was more like a cubby. The walls and floors seemed to be either stone or concrete, cracks covered the one farthest from the door. In one of the corners was a sleeping bag with an old ratty blanket.

“Are you listening to me?” Barked the old man. “If not I suggest you start, otherwise this will begin to be quite unpleasant for you.”

“I’m sorry, but was that a threat or a promise?” (Y/n) taunted. “Because either way I don’t care.”

“Are you sure about that? I don’t think you quite grasp the situation here. I’m very willing to do whatever I must to gather information out of you, regardless of my own morals and emotions.” He lowered his wand, just enough so (y/n) could see his face.

(Y/n) recognized him instantly, and it must have shown on her face due to his chuckle. His eye, or rather the prosthetic he had for his eye, gave him away instantly. This wasn’t one of Lucius’s loyalty tests, nor was it someone who she could easily run from. This was Mad-eye Moody, an Auror known for going to extremes to get what he needs.

“Now, perhaps you need some time to think on my offer, after all, I hit you with a very strong stunning spell. Who knows,” Moody shrugged. “Maybe some more time in the dark will be just what you need to get your thoughts together. I’ll come back tomorrow, hopefully, your stance will have changed by then.”

“I highly doubt it.” (Y/n) sneered. “After all, if you are my captor, that gives me all the more reason to stay quiet.”

Moody put out his light and shut the door, leaving (y/n) in complete darkness yet again. She slowly felt her way across the floor, finding the sleeping bag and blanket. She sat, cross-legged on the sleeping bag, pulling the blanket onto her lap.

“Is this a test?” She thought to herself. “Could he be secretly under a curse? Or maybe he’s been in on it from the beginning, plenty of death eaters are on the other side as spies, some with deeper covers than others.”

(Y/n)‘s eyes started to adjust, it wasn’t pure darkness but there wasn’t any true light source either. She could faintly make out the barrier spells on the walls, and more importantly the door. The pale blue shade helping give the room a form, like seeing on a grid, with no detail just the dimensions. She ran her hand across the wall, watching the spell turn into darker hues the closer she got.

Sighing she rested her head against the cool wall, closing her eyes. “Test or not, I hate this place. I can’t even tell how long it’s been since I woke up, let alone since Borgin’s.”

It seemed to be an eternity before the door opened once more, this time a woman holding a lantern entered. She was red-headed, a little plump, and had the faintest of smiles on her face. She looked (y/n) up and down, and the smile slowly disappeared, instead replaced with pursed lips.

“Dear, did they not give you a change of clothes? Or at least a pillow?” The woman tutted. “Well, can I interest you in some stew? Just made some for dinner, and figured you might be a bit starving as well.”

“Wait, I’ve seen her before, she isn’t a Death Eater. This can’t be a test, not unless the Weasleys have suddenly changed their opinions.” (Y/n) backed farther away, causing the Weasley woman to frown.

“I promise it isn’t poisoned. Might be a bit cooled off by now, but still enough to be edible.” The woman reached behind the door, bringing out a small wooden bowl and setting it on the ground. “Here, I’ll take a bite first to prove it.”

“I’m not hungry.” (Y/n)‘s stomach however believed otherwise, grumbling in betrayal as she spoke.

“I’ll just leave it here, in case you find yourself hungry later.” The Weasley woman said, backing out of the doorway. “I’ll see what I can do about getting you some light and a change of clothes. Moody seems to think the only way to go against someone is to behave the same way they would.”

(Y/n) sat there and waited for the door to shut and the light from under it to fade. As soon as she was back in the dark she snuck forwards towards the bowl. Very carefully and very slowly she searched the floor for it. Grasping the bowl with both hands she started eating ravenously.

Gently placing the bowl back in front of the door, she stood up, stretching her legs out. Wiping the sides of her mouth with the back of her sleeves she chuckled. The stew was better than anything Narcissa ever had someone else make. Feeling along the walls, (y/n) started walking in circles, watching the colors grow and fade as she moved her hand along the barriers.

After concluding there were no weaknesses, (y/n) found her way back to the makeshift bed. She had found where the dripping was coming from, it was on the wall left of the door, almost perfectly nestled into a crack in the corner. She wrapped the blanket around herself, opting to fall asleep rather than await another visit while staring at the nothingness of her room.

When (y/n) woke up for what seemed to be the 100th time, nothing new or changed in the cell. The blanket was still scratchy, there was no light, and her bones ached. She felt around, finding a small bit of concrete, and threw it towards the door. Just as it reached the barrier the door opened, filling the room with blinding light once more.

“You know, a heads up would be nice.” (Y/n) groaned, squinting towards the door and watching Moody enter in. “Oh, it’s just you.”

“Have you had ample time to decide?” Moody ignored her remarks, shutting the door behind him and hanging the lamp on a small hook next to him. “It would be much easier on you if you just answered my questions without a fight. Otherwise, well, I’m sure you’re familiar with all the different ways to get people to reveal their secrets.”

“Go ahead, what’s really going to happen,” (Y/n) stood up and stretched. “It won’t matter if I tell you the truth or not, you’ll never fully believe I’m being honest. It’s okay, it’s not like I plan on telling you anything anyways. What would be the point if I know you won’t believe me?”

“I had a feeling that’s how this was going to go,” Moody pointed his wand at (y/n). “Just remember, I gave you an out.”

“No you really didn’t.” (Y/n) thought to herself as Moody cast the first Cruciatous Curse of many.

~~{𝘌𝘯𝘥 𝘰𝘧 𝘊𝘩𝘢𝘱𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘖𝘯𝘦}~~

#remus lupin x reader x sirius black #sirius black imagine #sirius black x reader #remus lupin imagine #harry potter #sirius black #remus lupin #harry potter imagine #alastor moody #molly weasley

[aurorborne]

So what if you can see the darkest side of me? No one would ever change this animal I have become And we believe it's not the real me Somebody help me tame this animal I have become And we believe it's not the real me Somebody help me tame this animal

#Verse; Divergent; Death Eater; Variant I #Once again I be out here thinking about Death Eater Alastor #Relation: atomancy; Alastor Moody & Rabastan Lestrange; You see me for what I am. #not to get emo on the dash butttt

[saintlike78]

Ok so... I have a little request : Bill is not with Fleur, but he meets Harry's cousin (Dudley's sister, who is the complete opposite of her family and loves Harry as her own brother) and she arouses his interest, and from here you can continue as you wish, if you could do a little smut if you are comfortable.🤗🤗🤗

I know Dudley doesn't have a sister, but I like the idea. And sorry for the mistakes, but I don't speak English so well.

Never seen anyone like you [B.W.]

A/N: Thank you so much for your request! I’m so sorry for the long wait, but I loved this idea so much, but I just didn’t know which direction to go with it, but I hope you like what I came up with. Reader is the same age as the twins and is also a muggle. This is also kinda paired with another request, where the person just wanted a Bill Weasley smut, which is also included.

Pairings: Bill Weasley x Fem! Muggle! Reader

Words: 3.6k

Warnings: NSFW 16+, vaginal sex, fingering, unprotected sex, age gap (7 years), mention of death, mention of nightmares, mention of injury.

The wind hit your back and made a chill run up your spine, making you shiver. Standing in the driveway of nr. 4 Privet Drive, you and Harry were watching your mother, father and brother leave because of the wizarding war threatening their safety. Your mother had tried but failed to get you to leave as well, but you couldn’t imagine leaving Harry behind and not being able to be there for him and to protect him, even if you had no magic yourself.

You had always loved Harry and saw him as a closer family than your actual family. You never understood what the problem was with him or why your family seemed to despise him so much, that was until he got his letter and he left for Hogwarts. You were so happy for him, but not being able to see him and only during the summer was tough because without Harry there to take all the slander from the Dursleys you, unfortunately, became the family's punching bag. When you turned 18 and finally moved out, you let Harry stay with you in your flat instead of going home to your family.

The house seemed eerie with only you and Harry and no future. You sat on the kitchen counter, Harry was pacing around the kitchen whilst you were waiting for the order to come and transport you both.

“Are you sure you want to do this? It’s not too late to leave and go into hiding yourself,” Harry said looking at you with worry.

“I’m sure, Harry, I want to be here with you and make sure you’re alright.”

A knock sounded on the door and you jumped down from the counter, following Harry to the door. Harry opened the door and inside stepped many familiar faces and some you hadn’t seen before. Having had Harry stay with you, you had met all the Weasleys (except for Charlie and Bill), when you had gone to visit The Burrow.

They all stepped inside one at a time and greeted you. The twins had made a huge show about picking you up and spinning you around telling you how much they had missed their ‘favorite muggle’, you slapped both their arms lightly and let them pass you. The last two people to enter was Arthur Weasley who you greeted, and one person you hadn’t met before. He had red hair, letting you know he was a Weasley as well, he was tall and had scars running down his face like Remus Lupin. You were almost at a loss for words when he stepped inside, your mind completely blank after looking at how handsome he was. You could already feel a little crush starting to form and you got butterflies when he made his way to you and stuck out his hand for you to shake.

“I’m Bill Weasley, a pleasure to meet you, at last, my family has told me much about you.” He said as you shook his hand. “Y/N Dursley, lovely to meet you too,” you said knowing you should be letting his hand go, but letting it linger a little longer.

You both just stared at each other, completely forgetting where you were and that you had things to do. That was until Fred and George came up on either side of you, each placing a hand on each of your shoulders, prompting you to let go of Bill’s hand.

“Well, now you’re just missing Charlie and then you’ve met the whole Weasley-clan,” Fred said with a laugh.

You just laughed and nodded your head.

“I’m going to go find Harry,” you quickly smiled at Bill and got out of the twin’s grasp, leaving them alone with Bill in the hallway.

“Blimey, why did none of you tell me!” Bill exclaimed in a low voice.

“Tell you what?” the twins said in synch.

“Tell me about Y/N,” he said as if his statement was obvious.

“We did, we said she was really nice and that she came round the shop and by the house a couple of times,” George said, still not really understanding what their brother meant.

“Yes, you said she was nice, but you didn’t tell me she looked like that.”

Both Fred and George let out a laugh, “Well mate, we didn’t think it was important to say that she doesn’t look like the other Dursleys.”

Bill hmphed like a child, “you could have told me. She’s the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen.”

“Alright alright, calm down Bill,” Fred laughed.

“But if you must know… she’s the same age as us, so a bit young for you eh? But she’s also single, from what we’ve gathered,” George informed their brother.

Bill just nodded and was about to ask more about you, but Moody’s voice was heard from the lounge telling everyone to gather around.

Entering the lounge, Bill spotted you and came to stand beside you, but slightly behind you. You felt his presence and turned your head slightly to give him a smile, one that he returned.

Moody briefed you all on what was going to happen, not without an objection from Harry. When Moody told everyone that he wanted there to be seven Harrys’, you had volunteered, since you felt kind of useless, being a muggle and all. This also didn’t go over well with Harry, telling you that this was out of the question, but you being just as stubborn as he would not let him talk you out of it. You told him that you wanted to help and that this was the only way for you to help with this situation.

After much convincing from not only you but everyone, he finally agreed.

“Alright, all the Harrys’ have a companion to ride with except for you Y/N.. you can ride with Bill,” Moddy informed you.

You nodded and felt a hand fall on your shoulder and giving it a squeeze. You looked back at Bill, whose hand it was, and smiled again. He kept his hand on your shoulder as a form of comfort and encouragement, squeezing once in a while. You could feel the butterflies swarming around in your stomach and you felt all warm and tingly all over, just because of his small touch.

Not long after, you were clinging on to Bill as you made your way to The Burrow. You didn’t know what you were thinking volunteering, since you couldn’t really protect yourself against the swarm of death eaters that followed you through the sky. Bill was trying his best to steer and fight back against them all. Moody was trying to shield you from the other side, but then suddenly a green spark hit him, and he tumbled towards the ground.

You let out a scream and buried your head into Bill’s back.

“Don’t worry, the worst part is over, we’ll be there soon,” Bill shouted against the wind so you would be able to hear him.

Arriving at The Burrow you were met by Molly attacking both you and Bill with a gigantic hug.

“Are you alright?” she asked looking between Bill and yourself.

“We’re alright mum, but Alastor… he didn’t make it,” Bill said looking down.

You put a hand on his back, slowly rubbing up and down trying to soothe him. You knew everyone was close with Moody and that his death would hurt the Order.

“How is everyone?” You asked Molly, hoping she would bring you some sort of good news.

“We’re still missing Fred and Arthur, but it would be best for you to come with me inside… George was hurt, he’ll be fine, but I need to keep an eye on him,” Molly informed you both.

___________________________

You were startled awake by the image of Alastor crashing towards the ground. You were trying to catch your breath, your hands shaky and sweat running down your back. You decided you needed a glass of water and perhaps some fresh air to calm down. You quietly got out of your makeshift bed on the floor and tried your best not to wake Ginny and Hermione, as you made your way out of the bedroom and down the creaky stairs towards the kitchen.

The cold water slid down your throat and you instantly felt better, but you still needed some air. You quietly opened the door to the garden and walked outside, the cool summer air instantly lowering your body temperature and relaxing you. Finding a nice spot, you sat upon the grass looking up at the stars, you hoped everything would turn out alright, but you weren’t so sure with how intense everything had been last night and that was just a tiny mission. Your head raced with millions of thoughts you didn’t notice the scar-faced ginger looking at you from the door and making his way over to you when he noticed the number of clothes (or rather lack thereof) you were wearing.

“Are you alright?” he asked quietly as to not startle you with his presence.

You looked up at him and nodded. You patted the spot beside you, indicating for him to sit.

You couldn’t help but admire how handsome he looked in the moonlight, even if he was just wearing some casual plaid pajama pants and a knitted jumper, which you could tell was a Molly original.

You sat in silence as you both stared at the moon, the cool air having finally cooled you down, your temperature was now a bit too low, and you could feel goosebumps rise on your bare arms and legs. Bill who had been watching you making sure you were comfortable quickly removed the knitted jumper and handed it to you.

“Here, you’ll get ill if you don’t warm-up,” he said and you didn’t argue, pulling the jumper over your head. It smelled good and was already warm from leftover body heat from Bill, which made your stomach do a flip and fill with butterflies.

“Thank you,” you said with a smile, “please tell me if you get cold and want your jumper back.”

“No problem, and it’s fine, I don’t really get cold,” Bill said.

Putting his hands behind his head, he laid down looking up at the stars. Your eyes were instantly drawn to the way his muscles flexed in the grey t-shirt he had worn underneath the jumper. Your mouth watered a little, but you quickly pulled yourself together and laid down as well.

You laid in silence and looked at the stars, it wasn’t awkward or uncomfortable, it was like you had known him your whole life, it felt so right.

A couple of minutes passed before Bill broke the silence.

“Why’d you decide to go with Harry instead of your family?”

You were a little taken aback by the bluntness of the question, but nevertheless answered quickly, not needing time to think about your answer.

“Harry is my family, and I couldn’t just leave him, especially now… I want to be there for him, even though I’m just a muggle, I..I’m going to be there until this war is over.”

Bill nodded turning his head towards yours, your head already turned towards him meeting his eyes. Your breath caught in your throat when you realized how close your face was to his, the way his eyes flicked between your eyes and your lips made your stomach do flips. Suddenly he started leaning in, “I know this is very sudden, but may I kiss you?” Bill said lowly, almost a whisper.

You nodded and leaned in the rest of the way connecting your lips with his. You knew it was so cliché, but you felt instant sparks of electricity shooting through your entire body.

The kiss was slow and gentle, but then you felt Bill’s tongue on your bottom lip asking for permission to enter your mouth, which you granted. He leaned upon one of his arms, so he was above you, his free arm cupping your cheek and keeping your face towards his.

This went on for a while, but begrudgingly you pulled apart for air.

You stared at each other, both taking deep breaths trying to regain a normal breathing pattern.

“wow,” Bill sighed out, “you are unbelievably beautiful.”

Your cheeks turned red with the heat of the blush settling on your face.

“Thank you,” you whispered and reached a hand up to caress his cheek.

You ended up talking until the sun rose on the horizon, the morning dew settling on the grass, making everything damp.

Your head was on Bill’s chest, hugging him to keep warm, but also just to be close to him.

“You don’t think I’m too old do you?” Bill asked, gently stroking your back.

Your headshot up from his chest to look into his eyes, “of course not,” you laughed and shook your head, laying it down again. Bill just chuckled and mumbled “alright.”

___________________________

You ran across the lawn as the black smoke figures landed around you. You tried to find Harry or Bill.

One of the figures shot a spell towards you and you ducked and covered your face, even though you knew that wouldn’t help. You waited for an impact, but it never came, instead, you were yanked by your arm into a broad chest. You looked up and saw Bill already looking at you, a concerned look on his face.

“Okay get ready, love,” he said quickly.

You didn’t get a chance to ask for what before the air was knocked out of you and the world spun around you.

You landed with a ‘thump’, eyes closed, still holding on tightly to Bill, afraid you were going to be sick.

“It’s alright now, you can open your eyes now,” Bill said quietly.

You opened your eyes, and you were met with the bright sun shining down on you. The light breeze caught in your hair and the smell of the ocean met your nose.

You looked around, the ocean was in front of you, and behind you was old, but cozy-looking, cottage.

“Where are we?” you asked, still not letting go of Bill.

“Shell cottage, it’s my family’s place… I took us here because we’ll be safe here,” Bill explained.

You nodded, but the relief was quickly replaced by worry and fear.

“But what about Harry and the others? They’re not here!” you rushed out, also leaving Bill’s arms to pace in front of him.

He pulled you back and pushed a strand of hair out of your face.

“The rest of the family is fine. Harry, Ron, and Hermione all went somewhere, where I’m not sure, but Ron promised he would let us know that they’re safe.”

You sighed out, still very concerned, but relieved that you were safe and hoped that Harry would be as well.

“Let’s go inside, love,” Bill whispered, taking your hand and leading you inside.

He first showed you around the house and then showed you to your room and let you freshen up or take a nap, just letting you calm down in your own space.

___________________________

You were startled awake by the images that played behind your closed eyes. You focused on the room, the moonlight bleeding in through the window, lighting up a part of the floor.

Your breathing was heavy, and your body was sweaty.

You tried to calm down for about 10 minutes, but you just couldn’t find a peaceful enough state to let yourself go back to sleep.

Your feet hit the cold floor and the wood creaked beneath your feet. You made your way out of your room and across the small hallway to where Bill had let you know his room was.

You opened the door slowly, peeking inside.

Inside you were met with a sleeping Bill, his shirtless figure on his back. You closed the door behind you and tip-toed your way over to his bed.

“Bill,” you whispered, already feeling guilty for disturbing him.

He stirred a little, not opening his eyes, but letting out a little “hmm?”, indicating that he was awake enough to hear you.

“I can’t sleep,” you mumbled shyly.

He didn’t say anything further, he only moved his blanket to the side and opened his arms for you to crawl into. You didn’t hesitate before crawling into the bed and curling up close to his body, already feeling calmed by his steady breathing.

“thank you,” you whispered, breathing in his calming scent.

He wrapped his arms around you and held you close, you could feel his breathing even out and you knew he had drifted off again.

You closed your eyes and listened to the steady beating of his heart, lulling you back to sleep.

You woke up, your entire body warm from being wrapped up in Bill’s arms. Your legs tangled with his, his arms still holding you tightly against him.

You looked at his calm sleeping face, you felt so at home with him, and you let out a content sigh.

“I can feel you staring, you know,” Bill said, startling you.

“I’m not staring,” you fired back too quickly to sound convincing, causing Bill to slightly smirk.

“Whatever you say, darling,” he said and hugged you closer.

He opened his eyes, looking over your face and smiling.

Bill leaned in and pecked your lips slightly, gauging your reaction. You just smiled and leaned in again kissing him longer.

Bill deepened the kiss, moving so he was above you. You spread your legs slightly allowing him to get between them on top of you. The kiss turned more passionate and heated as Bill slowly ground his hips into yours, causing you to softly moan into his mouth.

Bill broke the kiss and looked into your eyes, “Is this okay? Do you want this?”.

You whimpered slightly, “please Bill, I want it.”

Bill let out a groan at your words and reconnected your lips, hips grinding into your own.

The small whines and whimpers that left your lips egged him on and went straight to his cock.

Bill reached one hand between you feeling your wetness through your panties. “So wet for me and I haven’t properly touched you yet.”

You whined at his words, craving more of his touch.

“what is it you want, pretty girl?” he asked, teasing you.

“please touch me, Bill,” you whimpered out, eyes big and begging.

“Such a good girl,” he praised before moving your panties to the side and finding your clit drawing slow circles on the nub.

You moaned at the feeling and grabbed his arm that wasn’t working on you.

His fingers moved down, and he slowly pushed a finger into you causing you to let out a small gasp.

“I just need to get you ready for me,” Bill said softly, leaning down to kiss your forehead. He then added a second finger, creating a delicious feeling because of the slight stretch. Bill used his thumb to rub your clit bringing you closer to your release.

He curled and scissored his fingers making you clench around his fingers, Bill’s lips curled up into a slight grin.

“Cum for me, my beautiful girl.”

His words made the coil in your belly snap and you came on his fingers as you shook and closed your eyes in pleasure. You were panting as Bill worked you through your orgasm. He removed his fingers and brought them up to his lips sucking them clean and releasing them with a ‘pop’.

“absolutely divine.”

He made haste work of removing your panties and the shirt you had slept in, as well as his own boxers.

When you were both completely naked, he stroked his cock a couple of times before running it through your folds to gather your arousal as a lubricant. Bill slowly started pushing into you and you both released simultaneous gasps at the feeling. He pushed all the way in and bottomed out in you but didn’t move as he waited for you to adjust.

“I’m okay, you can move,” you said and moaned when he pulled back his hips and snapped them back into yours, and set a steady and pleasurable pace.

Leaning down so your chests were pressed together, he sloppily kissed you drinking up all the moans that spilled from your mouth to his.

He broke the kiss and leaned up slightly to snake a hand between your bodies to rub your swollen clit. You didn’t have time to process before you came for the second time that morning. Your whole body shook, and your legs tightened around Bill’s hips.

“Such a pretty sight… think you can take one more?” Bill panted out.

You whimpered and nodded.

“Ah, use your words angel.”

“Yes, Bill, I can take another,” you moaned out as he kept pounding into your sensitive cunt.

“Good girl,” Bill said as he pulled out of you and laying himself down, guiding you by your hips to straddle him.

He positioned you above his cock and guided it into you again.

“There you go, my pretty baby, go own ride me,” Bill encouraged, and you wasted no time in obeying him.

You rocked your hips, circled them, and bounced on him until you felt yourself nearing another release and you moaned loudly.

Bill’s hand found your clit again and rubbed it until your knees quivered as you came again.

When you had finished, Bill grabbed your hips and angled you so he could fuck up into you, chasing his own release.

Not long after, his thrusts faltered, and he stilled as he emptied himself in you.

You collapsed onto his chest trying to catch your breath. Bill rubbed your back slowly, before pulling out of you causing a whimper to fall from your lips.

“You did so well,” Bill praised, kissing your forehead.

“I’m never going to let you go, my pretty girl.”

#bill weasley #bill weasley fluff #bill weasley smut #bill weasley x y/n #bill weasley x you #bill weasley x reader

[comfortwriting]

A Missionary Mission - S.B

Masterlist, Writing Prompt Masterlist, Requesting Rules

Prompt 111: His hands clamped over your mouth, pressing against your sore lips, trying his best to silence your moans so no one else could hear.

About/Requested: Sirius and Y/N are friends with benefits, both in the first OOTP, they are called into a meeting in Moody’s office to discuss an upcoming mission. Unable to wait until they get home, and with arriving early, the two of them say fuck it and have some fun in his office.

Warnings: 18+, smut, dirty talk, unprotected sex, oral (female receiving), mention of death, mention of blood.

Knowing you were part of The Order brought you pride, joy, and confidence to push forward, to fight for your life against Voldemort and the many Death Eaters that took so many lives, leaving you and The Order largely outnumbered.

You swore to your mother and father, your siblings, and your best friend Sirius that you would do everything you could to ensure that Voldemort's campaign to take over would fail - even if it meant losing your life in the process.

Working alongside the Ministry to oppose Voldemort definitely helped you sleep a little better at night, but you still had the same deep pit in your stomach that would often swallow you whole - you could die at any moment, and you didn't want to live in regret - you wanted to make every single moment last; you wanted to create memories with those that mattered most to you. The Death Eaters weren't just attacking muggles, they started to attack Members of The Order too.

With these aimed attacks, Alastor Moody - who everyone called Mad-Eye, called for an urgent meeting to discuss and set in place a plan to better protect yourselves and one another, especially with James and Lily desperate to shield their baby, Harry from this chaos; the thought of Harry being parentless made your stomach turn, it couldn't happen, not now, not ever.

You'd be stupid not to take Mad-Eye seriously, he gaining a reputation as a skilful battler and sacrificing an eye, a leg, and part of his nose - you thought it was an honour to have the chance to learn from him and work alongside him.

Knocking at the door of Mad-Eyes office you waited for him to cautiously answer, or ask for you to prove yourself - but you got no answer.

"Nice to know I'm not the only one who decided to turn up early," Sirius spoke out from behind you, making you jump.

You slapped his chest playfully, his grey eyes and messy black hair that you loved to run your fingers through made you blush.

"I knocked but he hasn't answered," you sighed "not like him to be so silent."

Sirius laughed and knocked again "Moody, are you in there?!"

The two of you waited for him to hurry over and tell you off for being so loud and for letting your guard down, but again, nothing.

Sirius pulled out his wand, swishing it and pointing it at the door handle and keyhole, making it slowly creak open. Taking your hand, he walked you into Mad-Eyes office, once closing the door behind him the both of you looked around but no red flags or alarm bells came up.

"He must be busy with something," you sighed, sitting down on the table, you cheekily spread your legs and watched Sirius walk across the room, your skirt now riding up your upper thighs.

You and Sirius weren't in love, love at a time like this was out of the question - but that didn't mean you couldn't have any fun. The two of you drank a little bit too much after losing a member of The Order, you shared your messy thoughts and feelings and literally said 'fuck it'. That one night lead to many nights of sex, sex that you always enjoyed and never regretted.

"Naughty," The corner of his lips curled up at the sight of your inner thighs, he walked over to you "We agreed to wait until tonight."

You frowned and leaned back on the desk, "I know but that's hours away," you pouted "and I've waited for so long with my period finally going away."

Sirius stood in between your legs and cupped your face into his gentle, skillful hands.

"I know, I've been waiting too." His eyes were drinking you up.

"Well," you huffed "No one's here yet, and we could be in for a long night if the mission is serious." Your hand slowly went between your legs towards your crotch.

Sirius's eyes twitched as he pursed his lips, looking behind him at the door, he pulled out his wand - with a point and a swish he locked it.

"Let's make this quick then and make the most of it." He growled.

Pushing your back against the cold wooden desk, he pulled up your skirt and pulled your G-String down your soft legs. Spreading them even more, he looked into your eyes for approval - you nodded - Sirius quickly leaned down and teased your desperate sex with his hot breath and silky tongue.

You moaned out softly and your hand found its way onto his head, your fingers getting lost in his black messy hair that was always surprisingly soft. Sirius kitten-licked your clit, planting soft kisses here and there before he started to drag his tongue between your folds and suck gently on your sensitive clit.

You were truly touch-starved - you were more sensitive and each bit of pleasure you experienced sent shocks through your body - down your spine, legs, fingertips, and through your tummy.

"Oh Sirius," you moaned out quietly "I've missed this so much."

Sirius looked up at you between your legs, planting a teasingly long, wet kiss.

"Me too, Y/N."

Sirius stood up, his erection trying to break through his tight-fitting corduroy trousers, he unbuckled his belt, sitting it beside you on the desk, before undoing his button and pulling down his zipper. Kicking off his trousers, you reached out and pulled down his boxers, his length springing out and slapping against his lower stomach.

Holding the base of his cock you started to pump it, Sirius looked down at you and attacked your lips with his, you moaned against his lips, the taste of your own juices spreading across your lips and into your mouth as you and Sirius explored each other's tongues.

Sirius broke away from the kiss and took his cock in his hand "Legs up sweetheart."

Doing as you were told, you placed your legs up on his shoulders, he lined his erect cock against your entrance, staring into your hungry eyes.

"Oh shit," he huffed "I'm so sorry, sweetheart, I forgot the lube."

You rolled your eyes "typical," and pulled out your wand.

Now that his length and your entrance hole were coated in silky lube, he held onto your waist and slowly pushed himself deep inside of you, stretching you out and filling you up. You missed this feeling, you missed feeling full and hated feeling empty.

Sirius started to buck his hips, at a faster pace and got quite rough, but you liked this anyway. You didn't have much time and the two of you realised that waiting until tonight would have been a disaster.

Your eyes scrunched shut, your back rubbing up and down against the desk which started to warm up, you could feel Sirius deep inside of you, reaching your most sensitive spot that made you cry out for more each time he pulled away. His black hair got in his face, he had to keep pushing it back so he could see which made him look even sexier to you.

"Y-You're so beautiful," you moaned out.

Sirius grunted "Don't start getting attached Y/N, not now." he winked.

Hearing loud chatter, footsteps, and doors opening and closing beneath you made you realise now wasn't the time for little comments, little pecks, or anything nurturing of the sort.

"Hold on," Sirius grunted again, his hands holding you close to him as he lifted you up, you gripped onto him as he sat down on the desk, you on top of him with your legs still propped on his shoulders. "I won't drop you I promise, but we need to hurry up."

Nodding your head, Sirius pounded into you faster, this position making it easier for him to continuously hit your G-Spot over, and over, and over again, making you moan out so much you had to bite your lips to keep them in, making your lips go red, bloody and plump.

With each thrust, your walls tightened around Sirius even more, causing him to throb inside of you, your tummy started to harden and you could feel yourself getting closer and closer.

How could you contain your moans when he's making you feel this good? It was impossible.

His hands clamped over your mouth, pressing against your sore lips, trying his best to silence your moans so no one else could hear.

The footsteps and chatter grew closer and closer, whoever was here was mounting the stairs.

Feeling the pressure build up and suddenly burst, you opened your mouth wide, your eyes rolling back as Sirius silenced one of your moans that made him twitch. You rode your orgasm out, your cum flowing down his length, your legs shaking and the blood rush going to your head.

The feeling of you, the sight of you sent Sirius over the edge, he couldn't take it anymore and was about to cum until -

"Now, we need to be ready for the attack-"

Moody stopped in his tracks, the door now wide open, the sight of you and Sirius enraging him, Remus's eyes widened.

"Sirius! Y/N! What in Merlin's Beard do you think you're doing!"

You and Sirius went bright red and didn't waste a single second getting dressed and hurrying away in shame, hearing Moody scold you for being irresponsible and for being stupid enough to let your guards down even for one moment!

Sirius felt cheated, he was so close to release before it was taken from him, making him even more desperate than the week before.

But after all, What's life without a little risk?

taglist: @amourtentiaa @horrorxweasley  @reeophidian @alwaysnforeverfangirl @sebby-staan @inglourious-imagines @livvysnaps 

#the marauders #james & peter & remus & sirius #sirius black #Sirius black x reader #sirius black imagine #sirius black oneshot #sirius black fanfic #sirius black fanfiction #Remus Lupin x reader #remus lupin #james potter #James Potter x reader #moony wormtail padfoot and prongs #harry potter #harry potter fanfiction #Harry Potter fanfic #fred weasley #george weasley #order of the phoenix

[messrmoonyy]

number 3 from the physical touch list (hiding face in neck) for remadora please :)) (no pressure)

Not me neglecting previous prompts/requests because this one the one I got motivation for.

Prompt from this list.

I used this to do my spin on the aftermath of the Battle of the Seven Potters, Cause I like anxious overprotective Remus🙃😗✌🏻( I also changed like. The entire dialogue from the original scenes because why not ). Think battle of seven potters but add a little ✨spice and drama✨. I went off on a total tangent on this tbh. As I do with every prompt it seems. Anyway. Hope you like it my dear anon.

Pairing: Remus lupin x Nymphadora Tonks

Warnings: none

Check my masterlist for all my other writing!

She was late. Incredibly so. Her and Ron should have been one of the first pairs to arrive at The Burrow, he’d arranged for her to have one of the shortest routes. He’d not told her that of course but he was quite sure she’d known he’d gotten a little too tetchy and secretly spoken to Alastor. But he had a right to be over protective didn’t he? This was was his wife. The woman he had literally, and in every sense of the word, sworn his life to. Sworn his dying breath to protect her, care for her.

Yet he’d let her put herself in danger. He could have tried to persuade Alastor to let him and George go the same route as Dora and Ron, or at least in the similar direction. He knew he had to be focussed on the war effort, knew he had a duty to protect the children. But… he also had a duty to protect her. His wife. His Dora. And now for all he knew Bellatrix could have struck her down, her body lying lifeless in a field somewhere.

He wasn’t a particular calm man at the best of times, his stress had its own stress, but he had never felt worse than he did in that moment. He’d already practically attacked Harry, was in no way of any comfort to George and Molly. Or anyone else.

So he was waiting out of the way by the window, constantly looking up at the sky through the glass and waiting for her to materialise through the burrows guards, come skidding over and laugh at him for being anxious over nothing. But the sky remained clear of her vibrant hair and her joyful laugh. The stars practically mocking him as he waited.

“ she’s a tough one. She’ll be okay “ Kingsley had appeared at his side “ Bill and Fleur, Ron and Tonks. They’ll all be here soon. Stop fretting Remus “ Remus almost laughed at the sheer stupidity of telling him not to fret over her. As if he ever did anything else. He always worried for her safety, had done long before they had even become a couple. Waiting up for her to come home from late shifts at the ministry in the days she’d stay at Grimmauld, worrying about her when she’d turn up with a new bruise or gash from something. Marrying her had simply made him fret more.

He’d never felt so protective of anyone in his life, never thinking he ever would either. Yet here he was, constantly putting her first and wanting to do nothing but take care of her. She never left his mind, was his first priority forever and always. He didn’t even want to think about what he’d do if he ever lost her, if he ever failed to protect her.

“ Bill and Fleur were scheduled to arrive as one of the last. Dora and Ron should have been one of the first pairs here “ he said it slightly more harshly than intended and turned to apologise to his friend immediately after, but as he did there was the sound of something passing through the guards outside.

Remus charged outside, almost tripping over his own gangly limbs as he went. He froze to the spot in a mixture of shock and relief as Doras broom appeared in the sky, the bristles smoking and charred as she made an unsteady decent to the ground. She landed in a long skid,stumbling from the broom and directly into Remus’ arms. She practically fell into him and would have knocked him to the floor if he hadn’t been stiff as a board.

“ Remus “ she gasped, hugging him so tightly it took the air from his lungs. But he didn’t even care, he’d give his last breath if it meant dying with her there in his arms. Because she was alright. She was right. There “ was so worried about you. The death eaters and- fuck I know you’re really no good on a broom and you bloody hate flying at the best of times. Merlins balls I was so scared “ she rambled so fast Remus barely understood what she was saying to him.

His hand slipped into her hair in some attempt to hold her as close as he could, still trying to accept that she was really there. Safe. Alive. He had worried for nothing of course. He should have known. She was tough. So much tougher than he gave her credit for it seemed.

He gently pried her out of his grip slightly, needing to see her face just to make sure it really was her. That he wasn’t dreaming it.

“ where were you “ as had most of his words that evening, it came out a little harsh but she didn’t seem to care. She reached up to cup his face in a soothing manner that was the complete opposite of his previous words to her.

“ Bellatrix. Wants me dead just about as much as Voldy wants Harry. Missed our port key. But I’m fine. Ron’s fine. We’re fine. You’re fine? “ he could feel tears welling in his eyes and he felt a bit stupid, but he couldn’t help it. Words failed him and he simply just nodded and pulled her back into his arms “ fucking deatheaters “ she grumbled.

He pressed his face into the crook of her neck, breathing in her scent and letting it calm him. She smelt like the fresh air, her hair all wind tousled and the slightest hint of smoke. Probably from her charred broom. Her hand rubbed gentle circles into his back and it made him feel… small. Which was funny with how much smaller she actually was compared to him.

“ sweetheart… I’m fine “ she said softly, clearly reading his fear still evident on him “ Remus “

He lifted his head as her hand patted him lightly, but he couldn’t bare to part from her again just yet and his forehead dropped to hers.

“ I’m afraid I underestimated you once again, darling. I knew deep down you’d make it back to me, I’m getting far too old to be worrying like this “ he said with a hint of a smile.

“ oh don’t worry, you won’t get rid of me that easily. Take more than a few of old Voldys mental lackeys to take me out. You’re stuck with me now. Im going no where “ their faces were so close he could feel her cheeks shift as she smiled with her words. Her nose brushed against his before she pressed a kiss to his lips. He usually was rather strict on his avoidance of showing affection to his wife in front of well… anyone really. But he happily kissed her back, even if he did cut it off a little shorter than he truly wanted. Still wondering at the back of his mind if any of the order were secretly judging him. It’d never escape him no matter how hard he tried not to care about it.

As they pulled apart she then only seemed to notice that there was blood on his hands and his jacket. She took a step back, her hands suddenly searching for an injury.

" blood? Remus? " her hands were frantic as she yanked at his collar, pushed up his sleeves, searching for anywhere she could find an injury. He grabbed ahold of her hands and shook her slightly so that she would look at him, it was clearly her time to fret and not his.

" Dora. Dora relax. It's not mine. It's not my blood. George was hit.. don't worry he's alive. He's lost an ear but he's okay. So am I. Not my blood love, it's not mine " she couldn't seem to help herself then and dived for lips again, holding his face in her hands and kissing him harder than before. He still couldn’t help but be a little reluctant but kissed her back, his embarrassment of kissing her in front of others not mattering when they were both just thankful to be alive and with each other.

" I'm just so happy you're alive " she whispered when she pulled back, resting her forehead to his. He opened his mouth to say something else but suddenly she was yanked out of Remus' embrace and shoved away, her clumsy legs stumbling in the gravel and she fell quite ungraciously onto her ass with a grunt of pain. Remus immediately rushed to her side in confusion.

" what the fuck! " she shouted and Remus looked up to see that Kingsley had been the one to pull her away, his wand now pointed at her face.

" Kingsley! Lower your wand! " Remus immediately jumped to her defence, crouching beside her and placing a hand to her shoulder  " Dora are you okay? Dora? "

" someone betrayed us we have to check everyone. You didn't even confirm her identity Lupin, she could have killed you. Look I didn’t mean to knock you down- we have to be certain you understand? "

" are you bloody mental?! " Dora yelled again, rubbing at her elbow that she’d clearly hurt on the way down.

" Kingsley... lower your wand she got Ron back safetly it's quite clearly- "

" we have to check " Kingsley said cutting off Molly, who had come outside with the commotion. Remus helped her back to her feet and then grabbed her hand, stepping in between her and kingsleys raised wand.

" lower. Your. wand. " his voice was commanding as he could muster, Kingsley was his friend. But Dora was his wife. And she came first. And he would put himself between her and a raised wand any and every time. No matter who was on the other end of it.

" Nymphadora Tonks gave me a present for my birthday last year. What was it?" Kingsley asked, ignoring Remus entirely, his wand still pointed at her as she was half hid behind Remus’ body.

" this is ridiculous! We're all turning on each other now? "

" answer the question " Kingsley ignored Remus again, which only made his blood boil more. He was already on edge that evening with the fear of losing his wife. This wasn’t helping to lower his stress levels.

" I know my own damned wife- "

" what was it! " Remus drew his own wand then at the increase in Kingsleys anger, pointing it in Kingsleys direction.

" Remus! "

" lower. Your wand. And step away from my wife " he demanded, not wanting to hurt Kingsley… but willing to if he had to.

" you don't even know if that is your wife"

" please! Stop the both of you! " Molly shouted.

" fucking hell " Dora said and held onto Remus hand harder, stepping better into view " I gave you a new set of quills because I charmed your last lot to throw them self out the window whenever you touched them. Happy? " Kingsley was quiet for a moment longer " now drop your wands. Both of you " Kingsley looked to Remus before finally lowering his wand. But Remus couldn’t. He felt betrayed almost, that someone he thought as a friend would do something like threaten the woman he loved.

Dora pressed gently on Remus' wrist to make him too lower his wand when he didn’t do it if his accord immediately " Remus. Lower your wand...Remus “

" this is exactly what Voldemort would want. To see us all turning on each other. We cannot let ourselves get paranoid like this " Remus said bitterly, wrapping an arm around his wife protectively and finally dropping his wand arm. He knew that Kingsley has been right to check in a way. He had needed to check. Though there were much better ways to go about it rather than pointing a wand at her head. To hold a wand to a witch or wizard was one of the most disrespectful things you could do.

" someone betrayed us "

" Dora and I are never out of each other's sight long enough for anyone to have made a switch or have her as their spy. And you know that. How dare you hold a wand to her head. How dare you " Remus was itching for an argument. And Dora could sense it, also so incredibly good at reading his emotions and thoughts before even he was.

" Remus " she said softly, lifting a hand to gently turn his face to look at her instead of glaring at Kingsley " Remus look at me " she ran her hand gently through his hair and he instantly seemed to relax. His own muscles losing tension without his consent at her touch. She had a knack at being one of the only people to get him to the calm down in almost an instant. Sirius and James had been the only other people he knew that could " relax. It's okay " she transported them into their own little bubble. As if the others were no longer in the burrow too and she kept him there, gently rubbing at his hand until his first unclenched and angry breaths returned to normal.

#messrmoonyy writes #enjoy! I loved writing this #god I’m just churning them out rn arent i? pat on the back to me #remus lupin #nymphadora tonks #remadora #harry potter #remus x tonks #ronks #the marauders #lupin #tonks x lupin #tonks #remadora one shot #remadora fanfic

[decennia]

i give u free reign to infodump ab all of the knights and the og army bc i am vv intrigued agjgssgsh

THERE IS SO MUCH HERE OMFG MORAL OF THIS STORY NEVER ASK ME TO INFO DUMP BECAUSE I WILL TAKE FULL ADVANTAGE OF IT—

I've separated it into sections:

The Knights of Walpurgis, and the motivations for their assigned sins.

Dumbledore's First Resistance, and the motivations for their assigned virtues.

The dynamics between the opposing contenders.

Given the sheer volume of information, I've included a cut. Please enjoy this manip that I am still very proud of.

THE KNIGHTS OF WALPURGIS (later known as Death Eaters) Tom Riddle (Pride)

Pride and arrogance were very large contributing factors to Tom Riddle's downfall in the end, and honestly, the whole idea for the gifset came from Florence + The Machines' Seven Devils playing while casually thinking of Dagrim and Tom, and then about how perfectly Tom would fit as Lucifer.

Dagrim Patil (Avarice)

When questioned about what she wants, and what Riddle promised her in exchange for her unwavering loyalty, her response is, quite simply: everything. Dagrim grew up starved not for affection, but recognition. And what she was denied in childhood, she would take in adulthood by force. Her philosophy is that if something is worth wanting, it is worth taking.

Cantankerous Nott IV (Lust)

We know so little about Theodore Nott's father from the source material, other than he was elderly, and he raised Theo himself. And that he was a Death Eater, of course. His name is an ode to his ancestor, the Cantankerous Nott who created the Sacred Twenty-Eight pureblood directory. I assigned him "lust" purely for the events leading to the conception of his son (sis, it gets messy).

Abraxas Malfoy (Envy)

Abraxas Malfoy envied Tom Riddle to the point of a half attempted mutiny. He was quickly put in his place, his co-conspirators made examples of, and spared only for his close friendship with Dagrim, who pleaded for his life. Riddle, who trusted Dagrim to a fault for all she'd done to earn it, conceded. Abraxas would later prove himself to Riddle again, regaining his seat among Riddle's favoured generals. He was the one who taught Lucius to never disobey the Dark Lord, and he was not a kind teacher.

Ulysses Mulciber (Gluttony)

Indulgence and excess, spoiled rotten and filthy rich. The Mulcibers were the richest of the Sacred at one point in their lives, rivalled only by the Malfoys. Ulysses never knew the meaning of "enough," and was a glutton not only in all manners of vice, but also for cruelty, dealing it out carelessly with little to no regard for the repercussions he was well protected from by his noble standing and wealth. He was one of Riddle's greatest allies and sponsors, and instrumental in his rise to power.

Carmilla Avery (Wrath)

Carmilla was in the year above Riddle, and was quick to anger and slow to calm. Her temper was legendary, and even her younger brothers – also admitted into the Death Eater ranks – feared her. She had an untempered fury, a rage at the world for no reason at all. She developed an unhealthy codependency with Abraxas Malfoy, who served to have a soothing presence over her. People seldom survive crossing her, as her reputation dictates.

Serafine Lestrange (Sloth)

Serafine is not lazy (as the sin "sloth" would suggest), she just lacks the motivations to pursue the goals that are expected of her. A particularly bright witch, and a wealthy one too, she never applied herself at school for she didn't see the need. Instead, she fell into a fascination of the Dark Arts, where she met Riddle, perusing the Restricted Section. She is rather discontented with life, disillusioned from already such a young age. She initially joins Riddle's gang for the excitement of it all.

DUMBLEDORE'S FIRST RESISTANCE (later known as the Order of the Phoenix in its official conception in 1970)

Albus Dumbledore (Patience)

Name a man more patient than Dumbledore, I'll wait. Better yet, he'll wait, because he's patient as hell. So patient, in fact, he waited until after Harry's supposed death to come to him as a hallucination and tell him about how he was a Horcrux.

Rathin Patil (Temperance)

Temperance is abstinence, and I wanted to explore the kind of toll having his sister so far gone into the dark would have on any man, let alone one who really cared for her and wanted to do right by her. Rathin is not a perfect man, he is still fallible, and unfortunately, he develops a dependent comfort in inebriation when Dagrim disappears with Riddle. He pulls himself back together, especially when he becomes Isaiah Moody's partner at the Ministry, and he begins to pursue Miraya.

Miraya Varma (Diligence)

Methodical and persistent, Miraya Varma earned herself a position at the Ministry immediately out of Hogwarts where she would later go on to form her own task force within the Ministry specifically designed for the interrogation and recommended sentencing of dark wizards and witches. She has been known to put her duty first, up until the birth of her son, Divyansh Patil, father to Padma and Parvati.

Isaiah Moody (Humility)

For a very long time, people seldom knew the Moody name, and that was the way Isaiah liked it. He believed that his line of work would endanger his loved ones (in spite of his wife being in the same profession) and so he never took credit for the numerous arrests he made. It was Isaiah who suspected something was strange about Morfin Gaunt's arrest while investigating the Riddle Massacre, and consulted Dumbledore about it. Once his identity was discovered and he was viewed as a threat by Riddle, an attack was made on his heavily pregnant wife, jeopardizing her and his unborn boy's (Alastor) life.

Minerva McGonagall (Chastity)

Mini Minnie is seventeen, my dudes. But not only that, Minerva grew up with a religious father (he was canonically a reverend), who probably taught her his values. Also given the fact that Minerva was the first of the younger generation to participate and involve herself in the war (she sought out Dumbledore and enlisted herself into his Resistance, fearing her family would be made into another statistic if she didn't at least do something to intervene), she really didn't have much time to think about something as arbitrary as the concept of virginity. Also, it's the 1950s.

Corinne Scamander (Kindness)

Corrine is honestly the greatest. She has all of the tenacity of Tina, and the best qualities of Newt. It was Dumbledore's previous bond with Newt that encouraged him to recruit her, and she willingly accepted, because of course she would. She'd always been the soft spoken girl with a tender touch and a love for life, and she was often the advocate for hope in the resistance. She was adept in a few healing charms she'd learned from her father, and was something of a specialist in magical beings, proving herself to be highly valuable while Riddle was expanding his ranks with all manner of dark creatures.

Declan Diggory (Charity)

Sacrifice is in the Diggory blood, and Cedric's grandfather, Declan, was not the first to prove it. He also, unfortunately, wasn't the last, but he sure was one of the best. Selfless to a fault, Declan would willingly get hypothermia if it meant someone else would have warmth. Diggory's contributions to the war effort consisted of offering sanctuary and shelter to muggleborns who received death threats, and orchestrating the evacuations of targeted muggle residences. He was the leader of a small faction of the resistance, including, but not limited to: Fleamont Potter, Enoch Longbottom, Wilhelm Shacklebolt, and Ramona McKinnon.

DYNAMICS (just the contenders for now because this is hella long)

Albus Dumbledore vs. Tom Riddle

Adversaries, a fair deal of mistrust and guilt from Dumbledore's side (upon reflection, he'd been the one to introduce Tom to the wizarding world; even though he knows that if Riddle had been left unchecked, the risk of him becoming an Obscurus would've resulted in catastrophe all the same). Riddle sees Dumbledore as nothing more than a foolish old man, a pest, and an obstacle to overcome at first, but learns to begrudgingly respect Dumbledore's strength and mastery of magic (after all, Riddle only knew him as the Transfiguration teacher before, and thought the accounts of Dumbledore's victory over Grindelwald had been exaggerated to great effect). Riddle's hubris was believing he could defeat Dumbledore on his own, thinking himself already stronger than Grindelwald ever hoped to be.

Rathin Patil vs. Dagrim Patil

Rathin had always been very protective of Dagrim, and loved her dearly, although his acts of affection were often misinterpreted as pity and condescension. This only served to push them further apart. When Dagrim turned to the Dark Arts and found solace in Riddle, it revolted Rathin, as he was hugely against the corruption the Dark Arts has on the performing witch or wizard, and wouldn't wish it on his worst enemy. He still very much loves her, and it hurts him to fight her. Dagrim, on the other hand, finds catharsis in duelling her brother, believing it to be justice for the way her parents treated her and the little he did to dissuade them.

Miraya Varma vs. Cantankerous Nott

A mutual respect and an academic rivalry, Cantankerous and Miraya were not friends by any means, but not enemies, either. Cantankerous even went as far as to warn Miraya of an impending attack, allowing her to evacuate the building. But although he knows she's clever, he also knows that she's incredibly stubborn, and displayed little surprise to find her awaiting him in the now vacant building. They are equally matched, and their unique relationship spans several decades, even into Cantankerous' failed run at Minister for Magic, and Theodore and the Patil twins' time at Hogwarts. She was present at his trial following the Battle of the Department of Mysteries, and watched as he was sentenced to life in Azkaban for his crimes as a Death Eater.

Isaiah Moody vs. Abraxas Malfoy

Given his profession, Isaiah has a lot of enemies on the Sacred Twenty-Eight who are loyal to the Dark Lord. One such enemy is Abraxas Malfoy. When Tom gets word of Moody's involvement in solving the Riddle Massacre, he sends Malfoy and a newer Death Eater, Evangeline Rosier, to hinder the investigation. Abraxas and Evangeline were responsible for the attack on Isaiah's heavily pregnant wife, who, if she hadn't been an Auror herself, would've never survived. Alastor Moody was prematurely born at St. Mungo's following the attack, and all of Isaiah's efforts were turned on exacting vengeance on those responsible. Malfoy went into hiding, but Isaiah, ruthless, managed to hunt down Rosier. She died under questioning, setting in motion a vicious cycle of vengeance between the Moodys and Rosiers. Once Isaiah had been killed by Evangeline's brother (Evan [who was named after her] Rosier's father), Abraxas deemed it safe to rejoin society.

Minerva McGonagall vs. Ulysses Mulciber

On the list of things Ulysses loathes, he would put half-bloods above muggleborns (although he turns a blind eye to his Dark Lord's blood status when it conveniences him). Half-bloods only serve as a reminder of the lowest and weakest of his kind; the unworthy muggleborns, the lecherous blood traitors, the vermin muggles. Mulciber prides himself as something of a "purifier," and finds great enjoyment in pruning family trees that have been poisoned by muggle blood into purity once more. He takes a great interest in Minerva McGonagall, given that she is an incredibly powerful witch at such a young age, and he wonders how glorious she would've been had she been a pureblood (a twisted and untrue belief among the Sacred Twenty-Eight during that time). Minerva, the threat of Mulciber weighing heavily on her, places her family under Dumbledore's protection. She vows to stop Mulciber and his perverse idea of justice.

Corinne Scamander vs. Carmilla Avery

It didn't take much to enrage Carmilla Avery, and Corinne had been caught in the tempest Carmilla's fury since the day they'd met. Carmilla, who took great pleasure in picking on people she deemed lesser, made a target out of Corinne, perceiving her kindness for weakness. During their time at Hogwarts, Corinne had gained the attention of Avery for being a blood traitor and a muggle sympathizer, which only strengthened Carmilla's vindication. Corinne, who had been friends with Rubeus Hagrid prior to his expulsion, and who had almost fallen prey to the basilisk when she had heard Myrtle Warren's cries from the bathroom, never lowered herself to Carmilla's level nor did she rise to any of the challenges. This hurt Avery's ego, as she thought this was Corinne's way of claiming herself better than her. It wasn't until after Hogwarts that Carmilla's growing resentment came to a head, and, without the protection the school offered Corinne, Carmilla was looking to finally put an end to the blood traitor line of Scamander.

Declan Diggory vs. Serafine Lestrange

Declan and Serafine were childhood friends who drifted apart during their time at Hogwarts, particularly when she fell in with Riddle's crowd. She is viewed by Dumbledore as having the power to sway the entire outcome of the war, for if Serafine could be persuaded into leaving Riddle, her cousins (one of whom is the father of Rodolphus and Rabastan Lestrange) would surely comply, and the families who held the Lestranges in high regard would be inclined to follow. This makes Declan and Serafine key pieces in Dumbledore's game of strategy. However, Serafine was disowned long before she defected from the Death Eaters, leaving the Lestranges firmly in Riddle's grasp. Although Serafine claimed to feel nothing for Diggory, she still refused to deal any real harm to him when they duel, in spite of having ample opportunity to do so; something which Riddle picked up on. She was later forced to torture Declan in front of him to prove her loyalty to the Dark Lord, something which Declan permitted her to do, knowing she had very little choice in the matter. He was left for dead, but Serafine would later secretly return with Corinne to get him medical attention. She gives her son, Francis, "Declan" as a middle name.

#rip to everyone who read this until the end #fic: and the snakes start to sing #fic: atssts #knights of walpurgis #death eaters #order of the phoenix #tom riddle #voldemort #albus dumbledore #oc: dagrim patil #oc: rathin patil #oc: cantankerous nott #oc: miraya varma #abraxas malfoy #oc: isaiah moody #oc: ulysses mulciber #minerva mcgonagall #oc: carmilla avery #oc: corinne scamander #oc: serafine lestrange #oc: declan diggory

[startanewdream]

Teenage behaviour

For @sweeethinny​ ‘s amazing prompt: ‘Instead of Harry seeing Molly's boggart, he sees Lily's, and faces him and his father dead on the floor, while his mother panics’.

Thanks again for this prompt! I always love to explore Lily and Harry’s relationship!

Read on AO3 or below the cut:

______________________________

Harry's smile doesn't reach his eyes.

Lily has been stealing glances in his direction all night, ever since she got home from her shift, and even though he is talking and eating and acting normal, she can see there is something restrained about him.

She looks around, trying to understand what is dampening his mood - not that it would need much lately, but still, he should be more thrilled about returning to Hogwarts tomorrow, especially considering their fear that he would be expelled. Everything seems normal, though. The kitchen is full of people talking and drinking, enjoying that last-minute party, and everyone's mood seems better than usual. She sees Ron listing the qualities of his new broom to Tonks, while Hermione is talking with Remus about her project of rights for house-elves. Both Ron and Hermione are still beaming because of today’s news.

She raises her eyes to the banner Molly hanged over the dinner table. That brings a warm smile to her lips; Molly had sounded more cheerful than Lily had seen her all summer when she had told proudly of Ron being made a prefect.

Then her eyes fall on Harry again. He is looking wistfully at the banner, with just a hint of guilt shining in his eyes.

Understanding hits her.

He wanted to be a prefect.

That doesn't make much sense for her, considering how Harry always inspired himself in James and how much Harry doesn’t seem to particularly care for authority figures, but there is disappointment and hurt in his eyes, no matter how much he tries to hide it.

Maybe it was some expectation that Dumbledore would choose him? Or he feels that people don’t trust him anymore? Or maybe he is feeling like he let his parents down for not being a prefect?

Whatever it is, she will have to do something about it. This would be easier if James was there that night - Harry does have a tendency to always hear whatever his dad says -, but since he is away on Order duty tonight, Lily will handle it alone. 

She looks around once more before locating Sirius and Ginny talking animatedly to each other; they are close enough to Harry so he will be able to hear them talking, so she approaches them.

‘Aubrey’s head was twice the normal size’, Sirius is saying, opening his hands to emphasize it, almost hitting Lily. ‘Oh, sorry, Lily’.

‘No harm done’, she says lightly. ‘Are you telling the infamous balloon head prank?’

‘I will let you know it’s one of the best Marauders pranks to date’, Sirius replies, seeming very proud of himself.

‘Don’t believe him, they originally wanted Aubrey’s head to shrink’, she tells Ginny conspiringly, making Ginny smirk. ‘And they didn’t even try to hide it, it led them directly into detention. No wonder you never made prefect’.

She knows Harry is looking in their direction, but she pretends to not notice.

‘Can you imagine, you and James as prefects?’

Sirius shudders, putting his hands over his heart and looking properly scandalous, just as Lily knew he would be.

‘We would never! Plus we would have to give ourselves detentions on a daily basis’.

‘Like Remus ever gave you any’, she scoffs playfully.

‘Well, he could turn a blind eye on us sometimes. Ok, most of the time’, Sirius concedes when Lily just raises her eyebrows. ‘But I remember a certain Head Girl doing the same’.

Lily laughs shamelessly.

‘If I didn’t catch you, how could I do anything? And with James as Head Boy, you certainly learned to avoid being caught’.

‘It sure helps when your best friend is Head Boy and decides the patrolling routes’, Sirius agrees, grinning.

‘Hang on’, Ginny says, frowning. ‘James was a Head Boy? Your James?’

Lily sees Harry joining their circle and she smiles to herself.

‘Yeah, we were as shocked as you when we found out’, says Sirius dramatically.

‘But he wasn’t a prefect -’

‘Head Boy and Head Girl may have been prefects, but if the headmaster thinks someone else should be, he can choose’, Lily explains. ‘It doesn’t matter whether you were a prefect or not, as long as you are responsible and trusting, really’.

‘You know, that was the only time I really considered telling Dumbledore we were animagi - we couldn’t let him think James was responsible -’

‘Come on’, Lily says fairly. ‘He had improved a lot by our seventh year, it made sense he would be a Head Boy’.

‘Oh, don’t tell my mum that’, Ginny pleads in a hushed whisper. ‘There is no way I will be a prefect next year, but then she might hope I get sense enough to be a Head Girl’. Ginny turns to Harry, shaking her head in fake panic, and Harry lets out an amused laugh.

They all laugh then, and Lily feels good when she sees Harry is more relaxed now as if remembering his father wasn’t prefect either is enough to raise his spirits.

She doesn’t say it and she doesn’t really mind, but she thinks Harry could be a Head Boy in a couple of years. Harry does have the leadership she saw in James in their last year at Hogwarts, even if he doesn’t mind breaking the rules now and then. But if he is not chosen, that will be fine for her too.

Lily hopes Harry understands this.

She shares a drink with Sirius, who is still telling adventures of the Marauders to Ginny, while keeping an eye on Harry. He drifts off to talk with Fred and George and Mundungus - a trio that speaks of trouble for her -, then he leaves them to sit on a chair, pretending to be busy drinking a butterbeer. His face is troubled once more and Lily resists the urge to sigh.

Harry’s changes of mood are more erratic than she can deal with these days. She always thought Death Eaters and bigotry would be the biggest challenges in her life, but now she thinks understanding teenage behaviour is much more difficult.

She throws a sympathetic look at Molly, who is yawning now, admiring the fact that Molly dealt with that seven times.

‘Oh, sorry, Lily’, Molly says, flushing. ‘I just woke up so early today…’

Lily smiles.

‘Go get some rest, Molly. I patch things up here later’. And when Molly opens her mouth, looking worried, Lily smiles. ‘I won’t let them stay up late, I promise’.

‘Thank you, dear. I am really tired… I’ll just sort out that boggart before I turn in -’

‘No, no, let me’, Lily offers. ‘Is that thing shaking the cabinet in the drawing room?’

‘Yes, Alastor confirmed to me tonight it’s a boggart’.

‘That’s on me then. Go rest’, Lily insists. ‘You already made too much today - helping to sort out that last-minute shopping list, this nice dinner. I’ll handle the boggart later, I will have to wait for James to come home anyway’.

Molly looks at her with a knowing expression.

‘I can never sleep before Arthur returns too’, she murmurs, and Lily is familiar with the fear shining in Molly’s brown eyes.

‘Everything is going to be okay’, she says calmly, even though they both know it is an empty promise. 

Molly bides her good night and Lily watches her go.

It really must be more difficult for her, Lily thinks. Seven children, one of them not talking with the family, and Molly already lost her two brothers in the first war. That makes the Weasley braver than her and James, she ponders; they aren’t hunted. They are choosing to be part of this war.

They really are the best family. She thanks silently the day Harry decided to sit together with Ron on the Hogwarts Express.

Speaking of her son, Mad-Eye is talking to him, showing him something, and even though Alastor looks as delighted as he can be, Harry seems to be sick.

Lily turns in his direction, determined to fix the situation again, but before she can reach them, Sirius distracts Mad-Eye and Harry escapes, crossing the kitchen in quick steps and slipping through the door before anyone can talk to him.

Great.

She walks to Mad-Eye and sees he is showing around an old photograph of the first Order of the Phoenix, that finally comes to her hand. Lily looks at herself, smiling hand-in-hand with James, and is startled to see how young they both look. Well, not just them. Everyone.

And those who are not here anymore look even younger.

She sees Marlene’s grin and Dorcas’s wistful smile and longing burns inside her for those evenings talking in the Common Room, for their girl’s night out after ending Hogwarts, for all the plans they made. They are so happy and hopeful in her memories, blissful to the fact Dorcas would face Voldemort alone, or that Marlene and all her family would perish in a fire.

She never said goodbye to any of them.

‘What were you talking about with Harry, Alastor?’, she asks in a quiet voice, returning the photo to him as if the distance can lessen the pain that photograph brings to her. She feels a little bit mad at him for bringing this photo to a party.

It’s not like she can or wants to forget all of those who died - it’s just she did not expect to see the reminder of all they lost so suddenly...

‘Just showing the boy the original group. Thought he might like it - so many stories to tell’.

Lily wonders if he told Harry the tragic end of most of those stories and she grimaces at the thought.

Harry doesn’t return so, after a while, Lily leaves the kitchen too. People are still talking animatedly and there are still a few minutes before she will have to break the party. But Lily doesn’t feel like chatting right now, so she may as well get things done. She considers going to see Harry, to check if his things are all packed for tomorrow, but he probably doesn’t want company. He is like her in that sense; prefers to be left alone to brood.

She enters the drawing room, looking around with mild interest. The children did make a good job cleaning everything up, but Grimmauld Place will never seem a happy place. Too many bad memories and dark thoughts, she thinks, as Kreacher passes behind herself, mumbling to himself and glaring at her.

Sirius forbade him of saying mudblood, but she only needs to look him in the eyes to feel the word.

There is nothing she can do about it and Lily prefers to fix on the problems she can solve anyway.

The cabinet close to the window is giving small jumps as if it’s alive. She walks to it, her mind already fixed on the remembrance of Aubrey with that big balloon head (he had really been a jerk and James and Sirius had pranked him for harassing first years muggle-borns, so she hadn’t mind laughing that time), and takes out her wand.

‘Alohomora!’

The cabinet opens and, appearing out of thin air, she sees James holding Harry as a baby, both lying in the ground, with eyes closed, pale and still. Dead.

They are dead.

Her heart beats faster and her mouth is suddenly dry, even as Lily knows this is just the boggart. It feels more like a dream, though, so she stays still for a few seconds, watching her husband and son’s corpses with a strange detachment. She really thought it would be just a dementor - and she would be ready for it this time.

But Lily supposes the memories that the dementor had arisen activated the true fear she had felt that night - that James and Harry would die while everything she could do was to watch hopelessly. Like she is doing now.

The fear creeps through her mind like smoke she can’t help but inhale, and that smoke makes her head light and dizzy, creating images in her head. She pictures how her life would be if that had happened, if Lily had taken Voldemort’s offer to stand aside while he murdered her husband and son and she was left alone. 

And lost. 

She wonders what she would have done and it’s surprisingly easy to answer. Find and kill Pettigrew, for starters, because there would be no James to hate him more than her and no son to give her other priorities. Then she would go after Voldemort; she would not rest until he was dead, no matter the cost. The boy-who-lived would be replaced by the mother-who-killed.

But then - and that is the scariest part - there would be nothing. No reason to live for. Her days would be empty and pointless, forever missing the two people she had most loved and knowing no vengeance would ever fill that hole…

‘Mum?’, she hears a voice asking, and for a moment Lily can’t really match the voice to anyone, certain she had never heard it before, that he died when he was just a baby -

She turns slowly to find Harry - her living son - at the door, looking at the dead bodies on the floor, then at her.

‘It’s a boggart’, Harry realizes. ‘Don’t - get out of here - let someone else -’

Harry looks worried for her. Somehow, this clears the smoke in her head. Lily steadies her hand and looks back at the corpses lying on the floor with nothing but determination.

‘Riddikulus!’, she says loud and clear, and the boggart turns into a man with a big blue balloon in the place of his head. Lily lets out a nervous laugh and the boggart vanishes in a puff of smoke.

Her heart is still beating faster, so Lily takes a moment to calm herself, to let all those bad feelings slip out of her; she almost jumps when she feels Harry’s hand on her shoulder. She had not heard him walking to her. 

'Mum?’, he calls very quietly. ‘Are you ok?’

'It was just a stupid boggart, Harry', she says, forcing herself to smile at him. Harry is frowning, seeing through her empty smile just as she sees through his. 'Just go to bed, tomorrow is -'

'Do you always see us?', he asks in a hushed whisper, ignoring her dismissal. 'I mean - that -'

He stops, unable to continue, and Lily feels a sudden urge to just tell him it was nothing and to let it go. She knows Harry would hate it, but he also would respect her desire to be left alone with her thoughts and fears.

But since all she’s been asking of her son lately is that he talks to her, Lily supposes she has to set the example.

'Sometimes, yes’, she admits in a low voice. ‘At other times it’s a dementor. But it’s all related to the same thing, really’.

Harry looks deep in thought and he stares at the point where the bodies were.

'It was me as a baby', he says, and Lily nods. 'But - why? I mean, I lived’.

She sighs once more and sits on the couch.

'Come here', she asks, and Harry sits opposite to her on the same couch, his legs crossed just like he used to do when he was young and was listening to one of her bedtime stories, except this time most of his leg is out of the couch. That makes her feel strangely comforted, even if she feels her eyes tearing up a little. ‘You grew up so fast’.

‘Mum -’, he starts, looking half-embarrassed as he always does when James or Lily start remembering him as a kid.

‘I am saying it like a good thing’, she promises. ‘I just feel so lucky to have witnessed it all’.

Harry seems confused.

‘Lucky?’

She looks away to where the boggart was on the floor.

‘When I think about that night - the one where you got your scar - I always remember how close we were to lose everything. How you were almost… you and James…’

‘But it didn’t happen’, he says forcefully. ‘We all survived’.

‘Yes, but back then, at the time - I didn’t think we would make it. I really thought… I really lost hope for a moment. Sometimes I still dream of that night, but my worst nightmares are… of that’. She points to the floor. ‘If somehow you and James were gone and I was left alone -’

She can’t continue. Harry breathes heavily.

‘You wouldn’t be alone, I mean, you would still have Remus and Sirius, they -’

‘Harry’, she interrupts him softly, looking back at him. He already seems distraught, but she has to make him understand. ‘I love them, of course, but how would it be if I and your father had died then? If you were raised by Remus and Sirius?’

He stays silent for a moment and Lily can see him picturing all that alternative life. Lily supposes Sirius as a figure parent is an amusing idea, but Harry doesn’t smile for a second.

‘It would never be enough’, he whispers at least. ‘They would never replace you’.

‘They would never try to, I am sure, but... This is it. A life without you and your father would be just - just empty for me. And that’s what I fear the most. That I would be too weak that night and that I had to watch you both dying’.

‘You are strong’, Harry says resolutely, grabbing her hand and squeezing it, though Lily can’t tell if he is doing that for her sake or his own, to also confirm to him that everything is alright. ‘I - I heard what happened’.

‘What do you mean?’

Harry looks abashed, and he lowers his eyes.

'That’s why dementors hit me so hard. The thing I hear when they are near… It’s that night. Bits of it, but I hear... You and Voldemort. You plead for me, and he - he laughs and tells you to stand aside, but you refuse. You always refuse’.

Lily blinks, feeling the blood leaving her face.

'You never said anything’.

'I didn't want to upset you', Harry whispers. 'I know you don't like remembering it'.

She gives him a tiny smile despite everything. She never told him about her own worries, but Harry probably noticed how even though she didn't have any problem explaining about Voldemort, only James would talk to him about that Halloween night.

Harry sees more than people give him credit for.

'You could have told me', she says softly. 'It is not your job to worry about me, Harry'.

'But I do', he admits. 'I don't want anything to happen to you'.

There is a desperation in his voice now, like if he is really afraid something could happen with her and, with a jolt, Lily realizes they never really talked about what happened earlier that month, about how Harry drew away the dementors from her.

About how he needed to do it because she had frozen.

'I am sorry to have scared you', she says tenderly.

'It's not - I wasn't really scared with that boggart'.

Lily believes him. Harry seems to think his father is invincible and he is too selfless to regard his own death as something to be afraid of.

'I meant about the dementors a few weeks ago. And if somehow you thought I couldn't handle that boggart right now'.

Harry blinks.

'I didn't think that', he says slowly, and Lily knows he is considering his own feelings on the matter. 'I mean - I know what you are capable of'.

'I just don't want you thinking that you need to take care of me. I am the parent here. That's my job'.

'I don’t want to lose you’, he whispers guiltily, as if somehow even thinking about it should be wrong. ‘I wouldn’t - I don’t know how I could cope if -’

Harry looks so fragile right now that she does the simplest thing. She stretches her legs, in an offer, and Harry lies down, placing his head on her lap, allowing her to caress his hair like she used to do when he was young, until he would fall asleep.

‘I won’t live forever, Harry’, she says softly. ‘Someday you will be without me - and really, that’s what I hope for’. When he looks startled, she adds with a smile: ‘That you get to live longer than me. That you get a full happy life’.

‘It will only be happy if you are there’, he insists. ‘You and dad. You -’, he stops, closing his eyes as if he doesn’t want her to see more of his emotions than he is already letting it show on his voice. ‘You need to be careful. I know you are good, but - sometimes people are just in the wrong place in the wrong time’.

She knows what he is talking about and she remembers seeing Harry and Cedric Diggory leaving together for the Third Task of the Triwizard Tournament, both looking thrilled that it would be over soon and that one of them might win the Tournament.

And she remembers when they all noticed something was off, when there were whispers of a dead champion and how she had feared so much that it would be Harry… And the guilt she’d felt later when she was just relieved that it wasn’t him.

The good die young, her mother used to say somberly when she saw news of a tragedy.

Lily thinks about the photograph of the old Order, of hope and dreams that mattered none when the people were dead, and she finally understands what upset Harry enough to make him leave the dining party.

‘Moody told you what happened with people from the first Order of the Phoenix’, she says.

Harry bits his lips, looking away from her.

‘I can’t promise you me and your father will make it through this war, Harry’, she says slowly, wishing she could lie to him about it. ‘But I can assure you that we will make everything we can to live… and if not, we will always be with you, you do know that, right?’

She touches his chest, right above his heart, and Harry trembles.

‘I know’, he concedes at least, but there is sorrow in his eyes. Then he looks back at her. ‘Moody told me about the Prewetts and Benjy and the Longbottoms and… I recognized Marlene from that photo in your office. You never told me her whole family had died too’.

‘It was just too painful’, Lily sighs. ‘It was just after your first birthday, when we were already hiding and I remember thinking... maybe I should have done something, I should have protected her -’

‘It was not your fault!’, Harry cries, looking appalled that she feels like that.

Lily refrains herself of pointing out the irony there.

‘I know. It’s Voldemort’s fault’, she pauses, looking at the eyes that are a mirror to hers. ‘Everything that happened. Blame him, blame the people who think like him and allow him to ascend to power, but never blame anyone else’.

Harry blinks and doesn’t answer her. 

‘We are better prepared this time’, she tells him, still playing with his hair gently. ‘It will not be like in the First War - we started too late then and we were too few. Now - now we have a better idea of what we need to do, of what he’s after -’

‘The weapon’, he says, and Lily remembers their first night in Grimmauld Place and what little they had told Harry. They never really said it was a weapon, but if Harry thought so, it was for the better.

He didn’t need to hear about that prophecy, not yet. It would give him the wrong ideas probably.

‘Among other things’, she says vaguely. 

He sits again, looking rather upset at her.

‘You really won’t tell me?’

‘That’s not your burden to care, Harry. Not now. I know you don’t like to hear that and I know you don’t think it’s fair, but… when you are older. Of age, at least. After school. If there is still a war going on then… then we can talk about you joining the Order and knowing things’.

Harry doesn’t look like he believes her. ‘You would just not care if I joined the Order? Simple as that?’

‘I will care’, she guarantees, running a hand nervously through her hair as James would have done. ‘But I won’t forbid you. No one forbade me, it wouldn’t be fair if I tried to stop you’.

He still looks suspiciously, but Lily just returns his gaze without blinking. She is telling him the truth; sure, she will do everything she can so that Voldemort can be finished before he is of age, but if he is seventeen and the war is still happening, she knows she won’t be able to stop him.

Like her, Harry never refrains from doing the right thing and she taught him to never stand for prejudice.

‘And until then? What do I do? Just sit here waiting?’, he asks, but for once he doesn’t sound like he is fighting with her.

‘Of course not. You can study’. When Harry grimaces, she smiles. ‘Everything you do in school is important. Every lesson - yeah, even Potions, don’t give me that look. You study and you use it to prepare yourself. Not just you, but Ron and Hermione too. All of you must be ready for what happens outside. Life won’t be like in school all the time, where you know when a spell will hit you or that when the bell rings you are safe’.

Harry bits his lips, looking thoughtful.

‘I know it’s not. I mean - for the Triwizard Tournament I learned a lot of spells and how to cast them, but - when it comes to the real thing, when -’, he takes a deep breath. ‘- when I was in the graveyard with Voldemort, it’s not like in school. It’s just your guts and instinct and - and trying to survive’.

This is the most Harry has said about the night of Voldemort’s resurrection to her and, for the first time, Lily wonders if she really wants to know. Just thinking about the desperation he must have felt fighting for his life…

He survived, she tells herself. You won’t be able to keep him under your wings forever, so you give him all the skills you can. You make sure he will be ready.

‘That is it, Harry. Promise you will take your studies seriously this year. Not just because of the OWLs, but because you know what’s happening out here, even if everyone else is denying it’.

He looks solemnly as he gives a tiny nod to her.

‘I will. And I will make sure others are prepared too. I - I don’t want - what happened to Cedric - to ever happen again’.

She smiles serenely to him, even as she remembers Amos Diggory’s cries and thinks darkly he won’t be the last parent to despair for his child in this war.

The good die young.

‘Are you going to stay here?’, he asks, distracting her from her grim thoughts. Lily sighs.

‘No, I promised Molly I would make sure everyone is in their bed not too late. You know how chaotic September 1st can be. And then -’

‘Then?’

‘I will just stay up a little bit longer’.

Harry looks at her as if he can see all that she is not telling him.

‘Dad will be home late?’ he asks, though it doesn’t really seem a question. Lily just sighs, confirming it. ‘I could keep you company’.

Lily smiles more warmly now.

‘You can go rest, Harry, it’s no problem. I’ll just make myself a tea and wait in the kitchen’.

‘I’m not sleepy’, he assures her. ‘I haven’t been sleeping much. I keep having the weirdest dream, really… And, well, I thought we could make some hot chocolate’.

That brings a warmth to her that has nothing to do with the beverage. She thinks of late nights with James and Harry, especially in winter, when they would make hot chocolate and share it in front of the fireplace in their house.

That kind of silly small moments that never seem important as you are living them, but somehow they turn into your favourite memories.

‘With whipped cream?’, she asks, her voice lighter now, and Harry smirks, making his resemblance to James more evident.

‘You can even put a little bit of brandy and I won’t tell anyone’.

She blushes, getting up. ‘I have no idea what you are talking about’.

‘I’m fifteen, mum, I get it now what was the medicine in your chocolate’.

‘When did you get so smart?’, she asks playfully, taking his arm so they can descend the stairs together to the kitchen. ‘Anyway, no alcohol for you’.

‘Spoilsport’, he complains without any real malice. ‘When will I get to drink?’

‘If you are still asking me, Harry, then you are still too young, trust me’, Lily answers grinning.

Harry shakes his head, mumbling to himself almost indignantly but this is such a normal teenage behaviour that Lily will take it without complaining. That’s the kind of thing she wants him to be worried about.

She kisses him softly on the cheek before they enter the kitchen, knowing Harry would be too embarrassed to be seen receiving a kiss from his mother in front of everyone - another very usual teenage behaviour -, and smiles to herself.

‘Thanks for the company’, she says later, when they are alone in the kitchen after sending everyone to bed.

‘Anytime, mum’, he promises, filling his cup with whipped cream, while they accommodate themselves to wait for James to come home.

#Jily Lives #Jily Fanfic #Harry Potter #Lily Potter #Lily Potter is a good mother #Harry and Lily moments #angst with a happy ending #t: fanfiction #Eyes glistening

[engie-ivy]

After the betrayal, after the murder, Remus wonders if he could've known? After all, hasn't it always been clear Sirius Black is mad?

Wolfstar Angst. There are some Fluffy moments in between, but it comes down to Angst.

Never Like This

Don’t cry.

The ceremony is drawing to an end. Soon, all that needs to be said, will have been said. Which seems absurd to Remus. How can all ever be said? There’s so much to say, for most of which words don’t even exist. Still, the final words will soon have been spoken, and they’ll walk to the cemetery of Godric’s Hollow, where members of the Potter family have been buried for generations. Where Lily and James will have their last resting place.

Don’t cry.

Not now, not here, not in front of all these people. Remus can feel their eyes burning on his back. He can just imagine the conversations.

“Is that-?”

“Yeah, that’s him!”

“That scrawny, pale fellow? He’s the Werewolf who fought in The Order?”

“Poor guy, all his friends are dead now. Well, except for the one who’s hopefully wishing he were dead.”

“Hey, weren’t they...?”

“They say they were.”

“And he never realised...?”

“Apparently not.”

“How naive can someone be.”

It’s only in his head, and he can’t actually hear anyone talking, but it seems real to him. He won’t break down in front of all these people. He won’t show that kind of vulnerability.

Don’t cry. Be a man, Lupin. Don’t cry.

Immediately, he can hear Lily’s voice in his head: “Remus John Lupin. Crying is a valid way of expressing your emotion, whether you’re a man or a woman. I will not hear such nonsense out of your mouth!”

Involuntarily, Remus lets out a laugh, and oh, Merlin, that’s probably even worse than crying. Suddenly, the whole situation seems utterly absurd to him. A room full of people staring at the Werewolf Order member whose friends are all killed, waiting for him to fall apart, and here he is, fighting the urge to start laughing. They’ll think he’s gone mad. It’s what they said about Sirius, innit?

He remembers the resentment in Alastor Moody’s eyes.

“There’s not going to be a trial, Lupin. It’s no use. The man has lost every ounce of sanity. You want to know how the Aurors found him? Standing between his victims, the remains of those Muggles he blasted to pieces, gruesome enough to give even the most experienced Auror trouble sleeping, laughing. He was laughing, Lupin. He’s mad. Besides, with everyone knowing he was the Secret Keeper and all the witnesses that saw him murder Pettigrew, we hardly need a trial. We’ll lock him up in Azkaban and that’ll be the last you see of him.”

Even worse was probably the pity in Emmeline Vance’s eyes, when she hugged him tight.

“You couldn’t have known, Remus. You can’t blame yourself, okay? You couldn’t have known!”

Couldn’t he have known? Didn’t he already know Sirius Black was mad? He has said it often enough.

“You’re mad,” Remus said, staring incredulously at Sirius’ grinning face.

He surely hoped the boy was not, as he was to spend the next seven years sharing a dorm with him. But the boy had just informed him that he, in their first week at Hogwarts, had already figured out how to break in into the Slytherin dorms and had managed to sneak into Hogsmeade to purchase a load of Dung Bombs.

Remus knew he didn’t have to count on their other dormmate to be a voice of reason, as James had a similar grin on this face as Sirius. Remus knew he should say no, be the responsible one, that going along with them would only end up getting him in trouble.

But Remus took one look at Sirius’ grinning face, and he already knew he was going to get into a lot of trouble the upcoming years.

“You’re mad,” Remus choked, trying to fight back tears.

Sirius blinked at him, not understanding all the emotion. They had been lying on Remus’ bed, trying to plan a prank to get back at Slytherin for cheating in the latest Quidditch match.

“We can’t do it tomorrow night,” Sirius had said. “James has detention then. And of course not the night after, as it’s the full moon, so you’ll be off doing your Werewolf thing.”

It was just a simple, offhanded comment, like it didn’t make Remus’ entire world come crumbling down. Remus didn’t even have the state of mind to deny it. “Y- you... you know?” He had stammered.

“Oh, right. Yeah,” Sirius had said absentmindedly. “We figured it out a couple of weeks ago.” Then, he had grinned at Remus. “I must say, Moony, that’s your nickname now by the way, I always knew there was a wicked side to you, but this exceeds my expectations! Bloody brilliant, mate.”

So Remus had called Sirius mad, because how could he not mind? How could he not be disgusted with him? How could he not demand Remus to be expelled?

Sirius just shrugged. “I might be a little mad. Does run in the family.”

“You’re mad,” Remus chuckled.

Sirius had just informed him of his most recent crazy idea. He had learned that Werewolves aren’t dangerous to other animals, so he wanted to become an Animagus, to keep Remus company during the full moon, and perhaps prevent him from harming himself. Sirius obviously had no idea how difficult, and potentially dangerous, it is to become an Animagus. There’s a reason why the Ministry is monitoring the process so carefully. It’s quite impossible for a Hogwarts student to pull it off.

“I’m gonna tell James and Pete!” Sirius said enthusiastically, before dashing out of the room.

Remus fondly shook his head and focused back on his book. Typically Sirius. He would be obsessed with some crazy idea for a while, and then move on to the next. Sirius would surely put it out of his head once he finds out how much time and effort it takes to become an Animagus.

“You’re mad,” Remus murmured, barely preventing his voice from breaking.

He was sitting on his knees, his face pressed against the big, black dog sitting in front of him, his hands clutching his soft fur. “I can’t believe you actually did it... I can’t believe you would go through all that effort... For me?”

The dog shifted, and suddenly Remus was resting his head on Sirius’ shoulder, while gripping Sirius’ shirt.

Sirius wrapped his arms around Remus and held him while he sobbed. “You’re worth it, Moony. And we’re never going to let you go through that alone again, okay?”

“You’re mad,” Remus said breathlessly, wide-eyed staring up at Sirius, his lips still tingling from the feel of Sirius’ lips being pressed against them.

They were standing on top of the Astronomy Tower. Gryffindor had won the Quidditch Cup, and there was a party going on in the Gryffindor Tower. Remus had gone up to the Astronomy Tower for some air, and Sirius had followed him. Remus had told him he didn’t have to, as surely there was a lot more excitement for him at the party. As usual, pretty girls with sweet smiles had been throwing themselves at Sirius all evening. As a response, Sirius had kissed him.

“Why...” Remus stammered, his heart beating wildly and his stomach fluttering.

Sirius cupped his cheek. “Because it’s you, Moony. It has always been you.”

“You’re... mad,” Remus panted.

He was lying in bed, clothes discarded on the floor, while Sirius insisted on kissing every scar on his body.

“Beautiful,” Sirius murmured against his skin. “You’re so beautiful.”

Remus laughed breathlessly, and took Sirius’ face in his hands, pulling him up to his face to properly kiss him.

“You’re mad,” Remus whispered, shifting his eyes from the star-scattered sky to meet Sirius’ gaze.

“Not the reaction I was hoping for,” the man replied.

Remus lifted their intertwined hands to his lips and kissed the back of Sirius’ hand. “Just making sure you know. And to be clear, I love you too.”

“You’re mad,” Remus smiled, spinning around in Sirius’ arms.

Sirius smiled back at him, brighter than all the fairy lights illuminating the dance floor together. “Madly in love.”

Remus rolled his eyes. “Madly drunk I’d say.”

Sirius grinned. “I’m allowed to be a little drunk. My best man duties are done.”

Remus laughed as Sirius dipped him, feeling happy, carefree, and in love, and maybe a little drunk himself.

“You’re mad,” Remus gasped, falling to his knees, trying to control his breathing.

“You can’t do that, Padfoot! You can’t!”

“He tried to hex you from behind!” Sirius argued.

Remus glared at him. “You can’t just bloody jump between me and a Death Eater’s curse! You could’ve...” His chest constricted and he struggled for air. “You could’ve died. You could’ve died because I wasn’t properly watching my back!”

Sirius dropped down on his knees in front of him, and soon came the familiar feeling of Sirius’ arms being wrapped around him, pulling him against his chest. “But I didn’t. I’m okay. We’re okay.”

Remus let out a shaky breath. “Promise me. Promise me you’ll never do that again. I can’t lose you, Pads.”

“I can’t lose you either, Moony,” Sirius whispered. “That’s why I can’t make that promise. I acted on instinct seeing you in danger, and I can’t promise I won’t do it again.”

“You’re mad,” Remus spoke softly, staring down at his cup of tea.

“They’ll come after you. Him, and all his followers.”

“I’ll go into hiding,” Sirius replied.

“But you won’t have a Fidelius Charm to protect you!” Remus snapped, lifting his head.

“We said we’d do anything to keep Harry safe,” Sirius argued. “We all did. I’m the best choice-”

“Exactly!” Remus interrupted. “And everyone knows you are. Isn’t it better with this sort of thing to not go for the most logical choice?”

Sirius avoided Remus’ eyes.

“Look, Sirius,” Remus sighed. “I know you’d never tell, I do. But no one has dived deeper into the Dark Arts as He has, and who knows what methods He has to pry the information from you? Isn’t it better to go with a Secret Keeper no one will suspect?”

Sirius turned his gaze back to Remus, his expression pained. He opened his mouth as if he was going to say something, but then closed it again, squeezing his eyes shut. When he eventually spoke, there was a forced calm in his voice. “I know what I’m doing, Remus.” He reached out and took Remus’ hand in his. “Please, you have to trust me in this.”

And Remus had.

If Sirius could do that, if Sirius could hold Remus’ hand, look him in the eyes with that sincere, vulnerable expression on his face, ask him to trust him, and then turn around and destroy everything Remus held dear, then it could’ve all been a lie.

It had all been a lie.

Each lingering gaze, each soft, private smile, each reassuring touch, each slow, loving kiss, each whispered word of ‘I love you’, a lie. And Remus had let himself happily be lied to, blinded by his foolish and naive belief in true love.

Remus really couldn’t have known. Alright, maybe he’d always known Sirius was mad, but not like this. Never like this.

#my tumblr writing #wolfstar #wolfstar fanfiction #wolfstar fic #marauders #marauders fanfiction #marauders fic #sirius black #remus lupin #remus x sirius #wolfstar angst

[host-club-hq]

Call of the Scar pt. 3

➼ pairing: harry potter x reader

➼ genre: sfw, fluffy, fantasy

➼ word-count: 3.4k

➼ summary: Harry Potter and Y/N Weasley embark on their great journey together in their fourth year at Hogwarts. What does this unsuspecting year hold for them?

➼ part 3 of many :)

➼ want to request? do it here. let me know what i can write for you :)

Dumbledore rises and nods to the back of the Hall, signaling Filch, who begins to limp forward with an old chest.

"I wold like to say a few words before we bring in the casket." The Hall stops and looks to Dumbledore at the front of the Professors' tables. 

"Casket. Did he say casket?" you lean over to Hermione to confirm your suspicions. Hermione nods.

"Eternal glory. That is what awaits the student who wins the Triwizard Tournament. But to do so, that student must survive three tasks. Three very dangerous tasks.”

"Wicked." Fred and George mutter with identical smirks adorning their features.

"You see, the Triwizard Tournament has an unfortunate history of killing off its participants. For this reason, the Ministry has seen fit to impose a new rule. To explain, we have the Head of the Department of International Magical Cooperation, Mr. Bartemius Crouch-"

CRACK!

A stitch of lightning flashes across the enchanted ceiling and the torches along the walls flicker, casting the Hall into and eerie semi-darkness. The rear doors fly open and a man stands in dark silhouette, clad in a long black traveling cloak, clutching a staff. Lighting flashes again and Alastor "Mad-eye" Moody is revealed, all grizzled grey hair and scarred flesh. As he limps forward- CLONK! CLONK!- all eyes shift to his wooden leg while the electric blue eye imbedded in his skull scans the Hall warily.

"Bloody hell. That's Mad-eye Moody." Ron speaks aloud.

"Alastor Moody? The Auror?" Hermione corrects as she leans to get a look of him.

"Auror?" Dean Thomas pipes up from where he's seated.

"Dark wizard catcher. Half the cells in Azkaban are filled thanks to him. Supposed to be mad as hatter these days, though. Sees Death Eaters in his dustbins." Ron sighs in disappointment of the once great man.

"Dark wizard catcher?" you take a sudden interest in the profession as it's mentioned in this passing conversation. 

Another bolt of lightning flashes. Annoyed, Moody points his wand to the ceiling and, casting a red jet of flames, calming the enchanted sky. Slowly, the torches regain their bloom.

Satisfied, Moody pockets his wand, brings out a flask, and tips it to his lips. Harry watches his every move, fascinated. 

"That's that he's drinking, d'you suppose?" Seamus quietly inquires. 

"Dunno, but I don't think it's pumpkin juice." you grimace. 

Moody and Dumbledore exchange whispers and a handshake, then Moody takes one of the remaining seat at the tall table. The staff eye him in mute disbelief. 

"Barty, as you were saying..." Dumbledore gestures for Barty to continue. 

Barty Crouch blinks and turns back to the stunned students. 

"After due consideration, the Ministry has concluded that, for their own safety, no student under the age of seventeen will be allowed to put forth their name for the Triwizard Tournament. This decision is final." Barty winces when the uproar of upset underage students begins and he does his best to ignore them.

"What?!" Fred is bewildered. 

"That's rubbish!" George shakes his fist angrily. 

"SILENCE!" Dumbledore bellows. He says this so forcefully the result is absolute. 

"Thank you."

Taking his wand, Dumbledore turns to the casket and gives it three taps. As the lip opens, he removes a wooden cup dancing with blue-white flames.

"The Goblet of Fire. Anybody wishing to submit themselves to the Tournament need only write their name upon a piece of parchment and drop it into the flame within the next twenty-four hours. Do not do so lightly. If chosen, there is no turning back. As of this moment... the Triwizard Tournament has begun."

With a massive thud, Moody drops a textbook onto Neville's desk, the same textbook on everybody's desk: The Dark Forces: A Guide to Self-Protection.

"I see you all slogged down to Flourish & Blotts like good little boys and girls and bought the textbook. Congratulations... it'll make a find doorstop." Moody sneers. 

The students exchanged confused glances and then glance back down at their textbooks. Not like most were going to read them, anyways. Moody turns. 

"I'm Alastor Moody, ex-Auror, Ministry malcontent and your new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher. I'm here because Dumbledore asked me. End of story, goodbye, the end. Any questions?" Moody's blue eyes scan the silent classroom and land on Harry. Harry stares back, willing himself to hold the old warrior's horrifying visage. Moody turns away and takes his flask.

"When it comes to the Dark Arts, I believe in a practical approach. You may wonder what I mean by that. I'll show you. But first, which of you can tell me..." Moody takes a sour tug on the flask, snatches up a specimen jar, and watches a spider scuttle within.

"... how many Unforgivable Curses are there?"

The students trade uneasy glances. Finally, Hermione's hand raises tentatively. As his real eye continues to stare at the spider, Moody's blue eye rotates into Hermione.

"I might've known. Go on, Granger." Moody encourages. 

"There are three, sir-" She stops. "How did you know..." Moody circles again.

"Your name? I know a bit more than that. You're top of your class- correct?"

"Yes, sir..."

"Naturally inquisitive?"

"Yes..."

"Socially inept?"

"Well..."

"And... Muggle born." Moody stops, eye raking over the others.

"I'm not about to walk into a room full of strangers without doing background. Constant vigilance!" Moody jabs his staff into the floor right in front of you and Harry. As the class jumps, Harry studies Moody's scars. 

"Girl Weasley!" He exclaims. Your eyes rake up to meet his with anxiety swimming in your irises. 

"Sir?" you gulp.

"Don't think I didn't research your background as well." Moody makes sure of that.

"I don't doubt you did, sir." your eyes fail to maintain eye contact. 

"Twin sister of Ronald Weasley?"

"Yes, sir."

"Always alert?"

"I would think so-"

"Bossy?"

"I-... I would suppose I am-"

Moody speaks to Harry. "The devil likes disguises. Never forget that." He nods. Harry remains transfixed. Finally, Moody moves on. You let out a hitched breath and slouch your tensed shoulders. 

"He's right, you are bossy." Harry smiles mischievously. Your eyes shift to look at his and you make no comment, which is highly unusual for you, given your nature. Harry's smile disappears when he notices your irregular breathing and the tears welling up beneath your eyelids. He assumes you didn't take Moody's comment well and he'd taken it a step further. You turn away and Harry reaches for your shoulder cautiously. 

"Wait, Y/N, I-"

"Again, Granger. How many curses?" Moody speaks again and Harry instinctively shuts his mouth. 

Hermione hesitates, noticing the glossy nature of your eyes before she realizes she's being spoken to. She steals once last glance at you before she turns to Moody. 

"Three." She replies. 

"And they're so named...?"

"Because they're unforgivable. The use of any one of them..." Hermione's voice shakes. 

"... will earn you a one-way ticket to Azkaban, correct. Now, the Ministry says you're too young to see what these curses do, I say different! You need to know what you're up against. You need to be prepared. You need to find another place to put your gum besides the underside of your desk, Mr. Finnigan!"

Seamus blinks, caught in the act. He whispers to his desk mate. "Blimey. The old codger can see out of the back of his head..." Moody whirls around and chucks the chalk he was writing with in Seamus's direction.

"... and hear across classrooms! So. Which curse shall we see first? Weasley!"

"Y-yes?" Ron gasps and jumps to look up at Moody. 

"Give me a curse." Moody implores pressingly, his artificial darting from the board to Ron hastily. 

Ron watches uneasily as Moody returns to the specimen jar, reaches inside and lets the spider run up his hand. 

"Well... our dad once told me about one... the Imperious Curse." Ron falters, voice wavering. Lory nods grimly to herself, Ron's statement evoking a memory of long ago. 

"I expect your father would know that one. Gave the Ministry a fair bit of grief some years ago. Perhaps this will show you why." Moody unsheathes his wand and aims it carefully towards the fidgeting insect.

"Imperio!"

As Moody waves his wand, the spider leaps from his palm onto Dean Thomas's desk. The class begins to giggle, and the giggles turn into roaring laughter as the spider hops from Dean's desk and into Crabbe's face, who exclaims in horror and reaches up to swat the spider from his face. 

"Don't worry! She's completely harmless." Moody assures with a small smirk playing on his face.

The spider flies across the room and lands on Paravrti's hand, who immediately ceases her laughter and exchanges her amused expression for one of terror with a mixture of horror. She stiffens and freezes at the contact, heavily exhaling as the spider crawls up her arm and dangerously close to her face. 

Moody cackles in amusement as he directs the spider to hover dangerously close to Ron's face, who whimpers in terror. 

"If she bites... she's lethal!" Moody grins with a playful wave of his wand, causing the spider to drop on Ron's face, who's eyes widen to the size of saucers as his body stiffens. Moody laughs once more, true delight gracing his features. 

Draco's laugh sounds prominently through the classroom and snatches Moody's attention, who doesn't enjoy the smug look gracing his features. 

"What are you laughing at?" Moody challenges, hurriedly waves his wand to cause the spider leap through the air and land directly on Draco's face, causing him to yell in horror. 

"Serves you right, Malfoy." you turn in your seat and grin childishly at him. Once the spider finally removes itself from Draco's face, he doesn't hesitate to glare intently at you, smugly sitting in front of him. 

"Shut your mouth, blood traitor." he growls. You merely shrug, your heart hammering in your chest with confidence. 

"Talented, isn't she? What should I have her do next? Jump out a window? Drown herself?" One by one, the students' smiles dry up.

"Scores of witches and wizards claimed they only did You-Know-Who's bidding under the influence of the Imperius Curse. Here's the rub: how do you sort out the liars?" Moody rapidly wets his lips, stating intently at the class. The statement sinks into the minds of the students as it falls silent for moment, if only just. 

"Another!" Moody urges. He scans the forest of hands, when his eye rotates with particular interest on... Neville.

"It's Longbottom, is it? Professor Sprout tells me you have an aptitude for Herbology." Moody mutters quietly to Neville as he towers over his desk.

Neville nods shyly, then answers. "There's... the Cruciatus Curse." he stutters nervously.

"Yes. Particularly nasty." Moody exclaims. He steps forward, looming over Neville and drops the spider onto his desk.

"Crucio!"

The spider twitches, legs trembling violently. Moody stands utterly motionless, eyes fixed on Neville, who seems transfixed on the spider's misery. Lorelei's contorts in sympathy for the creature as it whines and screeches, her eyes squinting shut to obstruct her sightline of the writhing spider. Hermione's eyes drift from the spider to Neville's hands, which are clenching the corners of his desk so hard that his knuckles are turning white.

"Stop it! Can't you see it's bothering him?! Stop it!"

Finally... Moody drops his wand. The room falls under a solemn silence. 

"Um... perhaps you could give us the last Unforgivable Curse, Miss Granger." Moody stands at her desk, drops the spider from his hand to her desk, and stares at her expectantly. Everyone's eyes are trained on Hermione to catch her response, especially you. 

Hermione glances at you and shakes her head insistently. 

"Avada Kedavra!"

There is a flash of green light, a rush of air, and the spider... rolls onto its back. Dead.

"The killing curse. There is no blocking it. Only one person is known to have survived it. And he's sitting in this room."

As the others turn their eyes on him, Harry looks up and sees Moody studying him. Moody's tongue nervously probes the corner of his mouth as he takes out his flask and turns away. Harry's eyes drop tot he spider, lying motionless.

"Bugger off, you lot. Nothing to see here." you shoo off the tables around you and the students avert their eyes elsewhere in the room. Harry is silently grateful. 

You, Harry, Ron, and Hermione drift from the class. 

"Brilliant, isn't he? Completely demented, of course, and terrifying to be in the same room with, but he's really been there, y'know? He's looked evil in the eye." Ron gushes. 

"I think he's cruel. Did you see Neville? I though he was going to-" Harry lets out a short warning whistle before you can continue: up ahead, within earshot, Neville stands by a stained glass window, his face running in rainy blue light as he gazes vaguely beyond. 

"Neville....?" you gently touch his shoulder. 

Clunk! Clunk! Moody limps past them and places a leathered hand on Neville's shoulder. 

"It's alright, sonny. You come with me. We'll have a cup of tea in my office." Moody leads Neville away. Harry and the others head off themselves. 

Set within the glass pane is an ancient witch fashioned out of blue glass, her "skin" running with rain. A tiny fissure mars the glass below one eye. She looks be crying. 

A bitter wind sweeps crystalline sheets of rain from the roof. Far below, Cedric Diggory dashes toward the Great Hall.

Inside the Hall, the goblet flickers eerily at the top. A group of underclassmen- Harry and Ron among them- stand by as their older classmates submit their names. Hermione clutches a copy of Triwizard Tragedies. You nudge her. 

"You're only going to worry yourself sick with that book, you know." you inform curtly, eyeing the book. 

"People have gotten splinched in this Tournament! More than once!" Hermione exclaims in horror. 

"Splinched?" Dean Thomas inquires. 

"Dunno. But it doesn't sound good." Seamus exhales anxiously. 

"Potter." Cedric nods to Harry and drops his name. Ron raises his hand in greeting, but Cedric is already dashing back into the rain. Ron frowns, drops his hand, and glances back to the Goblet. 

"Eternal glory. Be brilliant, wouldn't it, three years from now, when we're old enough, to be chosen?" Ron dreams. 

"Better you than me." Harry grins and Ron nods knowingly. 

"Better not be either of you, you hear me?" you warn the two. Ron rolls his eyes. 

"You're not the boss of me. I am two minutes older." Ron brags. The group groans. 

"Not this again." Hermione goes back to her book. 

"Oh, two whole minutes older. What an accomplishment. You probably pulled me by my heal to get out first." You retort in exasperation. Ron scowls. "Did not!" He exclaims. 

You’re about to continue the argument when, just then, Fred and George come striding forth, looking very pleased indeed. 

"Well, we've done it, lads." Fred announces proudly, almost smugly. 

"Cooked it up just this morning." George smirks. They hold up twin vials. 

"It's not going to work..." Hermione informs in a sing-song tone. Everyone turns. Hermione flips a page in her book. 

"Yeah? And why's that, Granger?" The twins arrive either of her sides. 

"Because a genius like Dumbledore couldn't possibly be fooled by a dodge as pathetically dim-witted as an Aging Potion." Hermione informs with an annoyed expression. 

"That's what makes it so brilliant. It's pathetically dim-witted." Fred's playful smile never falters. 

"Go on, then." you challenge. 

"Ready Fred?" "Ready George." "Bottoms up!"

As one, they top a gooey green liquid onto their tongues and, with great drama, cross the golden line encircling the Goblet. As they drop their names, everyone waits. And waits. Fred and George grin and hive five each other and...

... are ejected high in the air, out of the circle and flat on their backs, whereupon little white beards sprout on their chins. Everyone laughs.

"You said!"

"You said!"

The twins lunge at each other, limbs tangled as they wrestle each other into submission, blaming the other for their shared misfortune. Then Seamus stops laughing. Then Dean. Harry. Ron. You. Finally, when no one is laughing, Hermione looks up and sees what has silenced them:

Victor Krum.

He drops his name, glances at her, briefly, then lowers his head and slouches away. Hermione watches him go, briefly, then returns back to her book. 

"What do you suppose that was?" You lean slightly to whisper in Harry's ear, who shrugs. 

"No idea." he answers with little interest. Ron, on the other hand, is close to glaring.

The House tables crackle with anticipation as, overhead, the enchanted ceiling swirls with dark clouds. At the Tall Table, the staff awaits, Moody among them. Dean Thomas dashes up to the Gryffindor table.

"Did you hear?! Not a single student from Beauxbatons submitted their name." he exclaims. 

"What!?" Ron gasps. Harry and Ron glance to the Ravenclaw table, where Cho sits next to an empty seat. Ron looks crestfallen. 

"Oh, rubbish, one of them must have submitted their name." Your expression changes from determined to confused when you realize that none of the Beauxbaton students are anywhere to be seen.

"They've gone home!" Ron declares, bewildered and disappointed. 

"I can't say I'm surprised. Those girls were just a tad high-strung, if you ask me." Hermione's triumphant smirk is unmissable, and you pat her on the shoulder with the same type of smirk. 

Suddenly, there is a stir at the back of the Hall and the Beauxbaton girls, chins held high, stride single-file into the room, past the House tables and up to the Goblet of Fire where- one after another- they deposit their names. As a final flourish, tiny Gabrielle Delacour casts a handful of pixie dust into the Goblet, which issues a pink cloud of rose petals. The Hall rings with whistles and cheers. Ron beams. 

"Oh, for crying out loud." you slouch in your seat at the display. 

"I love it when they do this..." Ron sighs with a dazes expression overtaking his features. 

"Do what?" Hermione demands. 

"You know... walk together."

"Thank you, ladies of Beauxbatons, for that enjoyable but of theatre. Now... the moment has arrived." Dumbledore draws his wand and gives a great sweeping motion. Instantly, the torches lining the hall gutter, then die. The only light comes from the blue-white flames of the Goblet. 

A hush descends. Then... the flames crackle and turn red. A charred bit of parchment flutters from the goblet and Dumbledore plucks it out of the air.

"The champion for Durmstrang is... Victor Krum." A storm of applause accompanies Krum from the Slytherin table to the top of the hall and into the adjoining chamber.

"No surprise there!" Ron scoffs. 

Once more, the Hall grows quiet, all eyes on the Goblet. The flames turn red. A second piece of parchment, a particularly feminine parchment, floats free.

"The champion for Beauxbatons is... Fleur Delacour."

"I'm telling you, they don't make them like that at Hogwarts." Ron shakes his head and whistles through his fingers- a touch too loudly, and you whack him harshly upside the head. Hermione glowers at him.

"And lastly, the Hogwarts champion." A beat of stressed silence passes. "Cedric Diggory!"

"Silly git..." Ron grumbles as the Hall erupts in cheers. 

"He's meant to be quite smart, actually. And he's a Prefect." you nod curtly. 

"Like that's a good thing..." 

"Excellent! We now have our three champions. I'm sure I can count upon all of your to give your full support to each and every-"

A collective gasp cuts Dumbledore short: the flames in the Goblet of Fire have, once more, turned red. Moody's eye rotates. A fourth... and fifth shred of parchment flutter forth. For a moment, Dumbledore simply lets them float in the air, regarding it suspiciously, then he takes them.

"Harry Potter and Y/N Weasley." He announces grimly. 

Your face falls and your heart stops beating for a moment. The blood drains from your face and you turn to look at Harry, who's utterly confused as well. 

There is a moment of suspended silence. Then every eye in the Hall turns toward you and Harry. Incredulous, Ron searches your face for some explanation. Finally, Hermione whispers:

"Go on, you two." Hermione places her hand gently on the small of your back to push your up. 

You and Harry rise stiffly and you begin the slow walk past the house tables. As you come level with the tall table, Harry catches sight of Dumbledore. He is not smiling.

#Harry Potter #harry potter and the goblet of fire #harry potter x reader #harry x reader #x reader #reader insert #hogwarts #triwizard tournament #goblet of fire #Ron Weasley #hermione granger #ron #hermione #fred weasley #george weasley #weasley #harry potter fanfiction #harry potter fluff #harry potter smut #harry potter angst #harry potter oneshot #harry potter imagine #series #ongoing #wip

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Written In The Stars CI (Harry Potter xF!Oc)

A/N: This is where I tell you to brace for impact, guys -Danny

Words: 5,303

Series’ Masterlist

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Chapter Thirty-Six: Dumbledore's Decision.

Dumbledore raised his wand and ropes twisted themselves around Barty Crouch, binding him tightly. He turned to McGonagall.

"Minerva, could I ask you to stand guard here while I take Harry and Mel upstairs?"

"Of course."

"Severus, please tell Madam Pomfrey to come down here; we need to get Alastor Moody into the hospital wing. Then go down into the grounds, find Cornelius Fudge, I suppose he's quite busy and decided to ignore our friend Flint, but he will undoubtedly want to question Crouch himself. Tell him I will be in the hospital wing in half an hour's time if he needs me."

Snape nodded silently and left the room.

"Children?" Dumbledore addressed them directly.

Harry got up and stumbled, Mel had recovered a bit by now, enough to carry more of Harry's weight. Dumbledore stood on the other side of the boy and held him by the arm firmly.

"I want you to come up to my office first," he told them as they got out. "Sirius is waiting for us there."

Harry nodded absently, Mel felt uneasy, like there was still something waiting to explode.

"Professor," Harry mumbled, "where are Mr. and Mrs. Diggory?"

"They are with Professor Sprout," said Dumbledore. "She was Head of Cedric's house, and knew him best."

Mel took a shaky breath, she couldn't believe it, that very same morning Harry and her had been laughing, happy about summer, and Cedric...

When they entered the Headmaster's office, Sirius was there, but he wasn't alone.

Emily and him crossed the room in a hurry, the latter stood in front of her and eyed them up with horror while Emily took Harry and examined his face quietly, kissing his forehead multiple times.

"Harry, are you all right?" Sirius asked shakily. "I knew it — I knew something like this — what happened?" He and Emily helped Harry into a chair, Mel followed without uttering a word, she wondered if her mother knew about her visions.

"What happened?" Sirius demanded.

Dumbledore began to tell them everything Barty Crouch said. Harry and Mel kept their gazes down, fixed on the floor. Something in the air felt like icy water.

There was a soft rush of wings. Fawkes the phoenix had left his perch, flown across the office, and landed on Harry's knee.

"'Lo, Fawkes," said Harry quietly. He stroked the phoenix's beautiful scarlet-and-gold plumage. Fawkes blinked peacefully up at him. There was something comforting about his warm weight.

Dumbledore stopped talking. He sat down opposite Harry, behind his desk. He was looking at Harry, who avoided his eyes. Dumbledore was going to question him. He was going to make Harry relive everything.

"I need to know what happened after you touched the Portkey in the maze, Harry," said Dumbledore. "Mel was a great help, but only half way, we need to know the other half..."

Emily sent a questioning look to her daughter, she dodged it by fixing her own eyes on the boy.

"We can leave that till morning, can't we, Dumbledore?" Sirius asked dryly. "Let him have a sleep. Let him rest."

"Yes," Emily promptly added. "They look exhausted."

"If I thought I could help you," Dumbledore said gently, "by putting you into an enchanted sleep and allowing you to postpone the moment when you would have to think about what has happened tonight, I would do it. But I know better. Numbing the pain for a while will make it worse when you finally feel it. You have shown bravery beyond anything I could have expected of you. I ask you to demonstrate your courage one more time. I ask you to tell us what happened. Mel will tell her part too, if you wish."

Harry looked up to her for the first time since Moody's intervention. If she'd known a way, she would've done anything to take away Harry's sorrowful look too.

The phoenix let out one soft, quavering note. It shivered in the air, and Harry felt as though a drop of hot liquid had slipped down his throat into his stomach, warming him, and strengthening him.

He took a deep breath and began to tell them. As he spoke, visions of everything that had passed that night seemed to rise before his eyes; he saw the sparkling surface of the potion that had revived Voldemort; he saw the Death Eaters Apparating between the graves around them; he saw Cedric's body, lying on the ground beside the cup.

Once or twice, Sirius made a noise as though about to say something, his hand still tight on Harry's shoulder, but Dumbledore raised his hand to stop him, and Harry was glad of this, because it was easier to keep going now he had started. It was even a relief; he felt almost as though something poisonous were being extracted from him. It was costing him every bit of determination he had to keep talking, yet he sensed that once he had finished, he would feel better.

When Harry told of Wormtail piercing his arm with the dagger, however, Sirius let out a vehement exclamation and Dumbledore stood up so quickly that Harry started. Dumbledore walked around the desk and told Harry to stretch out his arm. Harry showed them both the place where his robes were torn and the cut beneath them.

"He said my blood would make him stronger than if he'd used someone else's– He said the protection my — my mother left in me — he'd have it too. And he was right — he could touch me without hurting himself, he touched my face."

"Mel," Dumbledore spoke instantly. "Pull up your sleeve."

She lifted the same arm Harry was showing them. Her mother gasped and she inhaled sharply: a dark bruise had appeared on her forearm, with the same shape as Harry's injury. Dumbledore looked triumphant for half a second, when he leaned to his seat, however, he looked thoroughly tired.

"Very well... Voldemort has overcome that particular barrier. Harry, continue, please."

Harry went on; he explained how Voldemort had emerged from the cauldron, and told them all he could remember of Voldemort's speech to the Death Eaters. Then he told how Voldemort had untied him, returned his wand to him, and prepared to duel.

"And then..." He looked at her. "I heard you."

There was a moment of silence before Dumbledore spoke.

"We'll get to that. Continue, please..."

When he reached the part where the golden beam of light had connected his and Voldemort's wands, he found his throat obstructed. He tried to keep talking, but the memories of what had come out of Voldemort's wand were flooding into his mind. He could see Cedric emerging, see the old man, Bertha Jorkins... his father... his mother...

"The wands connected?" Sirius asked in wonder. "Why?"

"Priori Incantatem," Dumbledore muttered.

"The Reverse Spell effect?" said Sirius.

"Exactly. Harry's wand and Voldemort's wand share cores. Each of them contains a feather from the tail of the same phoenix. This phoenix, in fact."

"My wand's feather came from Fawkes?"

"Yes," said Dumbledore. "Mr. Ollivander wrote to tell me you had bought the second wand, the moment you left his shop four years ago."

"So what happens when a wand meets its brother?"

"They will not work properly against each other. If, however, the owners of the wands force the wands to do battle... a very rare effect will take place. One of the wands will force the other to regurgitate spells it has performed — in reverse. The most recent first... and then those which preceded it... Which means, that some form of Cedric must have reappeared."

"Diggory came back to life?" said Sirius.

"Our parents..." Mel said to Harry. "That's what you told me before you vanished... you said they were there."

"No spell can reawaken the dead," said Dumbledore. "All that would have happened is a kind of reverse echo. A shadow of the living Cedric would have emerged from the wand... am I correct, Harry?"

"He spoke to me," Harry said weakly. "The... the ghost Cedric, or whatever he was, spoke."

"An echo, which retained Cedric's appearance and character. I am guessing other such forms appeared... less recent victims of Voldemort's wand..."

"An old man," Harry said, his throat still constricted. "Bertha Jorkins. And..."

"Your parents?" said Dumbledore quietly.

"Yes," said Harry. "And Matt..."

A strange noise came out of her mother's mouth, but Mel had her whole attention on the boy.

"The last murders the wand performed... In reverse order. More would have appeared, of course, had you maintained the connection. Very well, Harry, these echoes, these shadows... what did they do?"

Harry described how the figures that had emerged from the wand had prowled the edges of the golden web, how Voldemort had seemed to fear them, how the shadow of Harry's father had told him what to do, how Cedric's had made its final request.

At this point, Harry found he could not continue. He looked around at Sirius and saw that he had his face in his hands.

Harry suddenly became aware that Fawkes had left his knee. The phoenix had fluttered to the floor. It was resting its beautiful head against Harry's injured leg, and thick, pearly tears were falling from its eyes onto the wound left by the spider. The pain vanished. The skin mended. His leg was repaired.

"I will say it again," said Dumbledore. "You have shown bravery beyond anything I could have expected of you tonight, Harry. You have shown bravery equal to those who died fighting Voldemort at the height of his powers. You have shouldered a grown wizard's burden and found yourself equal to it — and you have now given us all that we have a right to expect."

"What about Mel?" Emily spoke up suddenly. "What about her arm– what hapened to my daughter?"

"That–" Dumbledore looked directly at Mel, "was truly the work of one of the best Dumbledores that have ever existed. Mel, would you like to share your part of the story?"

"...I had this vision..." She told them all she could remember, about how she'd managed to lend Harry her own vitality so he could fight back a little longer, so he could save himself.

"How could she do that?" Emily asked, horror and awe mixed in her voice.

"Mel and Harry were raised under very singular circumstances," Dumbledore started, "they were together the moment Voldemort almost killed Harry, and they'd been together in every near death experience they've gone through. The stone, the basilisk, your own rescue, Sirius... I'm yet to understand how it works, but I believe their lifelines have blended together, when one of them is in danger, the other can feel it. Maybe it was there since birth, maybe it built itself through time, as they grew closer. All we know is that it saved Harry."

They looked at each other in disbelief. Was that the reason why they always knew what the other was going through? Because they were too close?

"You two will come with me to the hospital wing. I do not want you returning to the dormitory tonight. A Sleeping Potion and some peace... Sirius, would you like to stay? Emily, I'm certain you will."

Sirius transformed back into a dog and walked with them out of the office. Mel felt her mother's hand on her shoulder during the whole walk. In the infirmary Mrs Weasley, Bill, Ron, and Hermione grouped around a harassed-looking Madam Pomfrey. They appeared to be demanding to know where they were. All of them turned around as they entered.

"Harry! Oh Harry!"

"Molly," Dumbledore stopped her, "please listen to me for a moment. Harry and Mel had been through a terrible ordeal tonight. They just had to relive it for me. What they need now is sleep, and peace, and quiet. If they'd like you all to stay you may do so. But I do not want you questioning them until they're ready to answer, and certainly not this evening."

"Did you hear? They need quiet!" Mrs Weasley scowled to her children and Hermione.

"Headmaster," said Madam Pomfrey, staring at the black dog, "may I ask what — ?"

"This dog will be remaining here for a while," said Dumbledore. "I assure you, he is extremely well trained. I will wait while you get into bed. I'll be back to see you as soon as I have met with Fudge, I would like you to remain here tomorrow until I have spoken to the school," He concluded.

Madam Pomfrey led them to freshly made beds.

"Is he okay?" Harry asked looking at the real Moody laying on a distant bed.

"He'll be fine," said Madam Pomfrey gently.

As she changed into clean pyjamas, she couldn't help but stare at the thousands of bruises littered all over her skin.

"Harry," She whispered, holding back her tears. "What did they do to you?"

The group of friends sat around and in between their beds, her mother was stroking her hair as she stared at her in silent anguish.

"I'm all right," Harry told their friends since they kept staring as if he were a terminal patient. "Just tired."

Madam Pomfrey returned holding a small bottle of some purple potion and two goblets.

"You'll need to drink all of this," she said. "It's a potion for dreamless sleep."

"I could use that," Mel smiled weakly.

They took the goblets and drank it in a matter of seconds, falling asleep as soon as they handed the goblets back.

The hospital doors burst open, waking her up instantly. She blinked in hazy confusion and saw her mother halfway to the entrance, staring at the people that had just entered with anger. Harry was up too, watching the others, none had realized they were listening.

"Where's Dumbledore?" Fudge demanded.

"He's not here," said Mrs Weasley. "This is a hospital wing, Minister, don't you think you'd do better to —"

"What has happened?" Dumbledore walked in, looking rather angry. "Why are you disturbing these people? Minerva, I'm surprised at you — I asked you to stand guard over Barty Crouch —"

"There is no need to stand guard over him anymore, Dumbledore! The Minister has seen to that!"

"When we told Mr Fudge that we had caught the Death Eater responsible for tonight's events," Snape explained, "he seemed to feel his personal safety was in question. He insisted on summoning a dementor to accompany him into the castle. He brought it up to the office where Barty Crouch —"

"I told him you would not agree, Dumbledore! I told him you would never allow dementors to set foot inside the castle, but —"

"My dear woman! As Minister of Magic, it is my decision whether I wish to bring protection with me when interviewing a possibly dangerous —"

"The moment that — that thing entered the room..."

Mel slipped out of her bed and sat on Harry's, she needed to feel him close and be sure he was real and alive.

"It swooped down on Crouch and — and —"

Harry grabbed her hand immediately, grimacing at McGonagall's words. Mel knew too what that meant, and she was just as horrified, but she hissed at the contact. Harry had grabbed her bruised wrist without noticing, and he dropped her hand in alarm. Mel almost scolded herself for being so sensitive, she didn't want him to let go.

"By all accounts, he is no loss! It seems he has been responsible for several deaths!"

"But he cannot now give testimony, Cornelius," said Dumbledore. "He cannot give evidence about why he killed those people."

"Why he killed them? Well, that's no mystery, is it? He was a raving lunatic! From what Minerva and Severus have told me, he seems to have thought he was doing it all on You- Know-Who's instructions!"

"Lord Voldemort was giving him instructions, Cornelius. Those people's deaths were mere by-products of a plan to restore Voldemort to full strength again. The plan succeeded. Voldemort has been restored to his body."

"You-Know-Who... returned? Preposterous. Come now, Dumbledore..."

"As Minerva and Severus have doubtless told you, we heard Barry Crouch confess. Under the influence of Veritaserum, he told us how he was smuggled out of Azkaban, and how Voldemort — learning of his continued existence from Bertha Jorkins — went to free him from his father and used him to capture Harry. The plan worked, I tell you. Crouch has helped Voldemort to return."

"See here, Dumbledore," Fudge said with a reluctant smile, "you — you can't seriously believe that. You-Know-Who — back? Come now, come now... certainly, Crouch may have believed himself to be acting upon You-Know-Who's orders — but to take the word of a lunatic like that, Dumbledore..."

"When Harry touched the Triwizard Cup tonight, he was transported straight to Voldemort," said Dumbledore steadily. "He witnessed Lord Voldemort's rebirth. My own niece– I will explain it all to you if you will step up to my office." Only then he noticed that Mel and Harry were up, and he added, "I am afraid I cannot permit you to question them tonight."

"You are — er — prepared to take Harry's word on this, are you, Dumbledore?" Fudge lingered on her a second longer. "And your niece?"

"Certainly, I believe them. I heard Crouch's confession, and I heard and Mel's account of what happened after he touched the Triwizard Cup; the stories make sense, I myself witnessed as she was telling me all, and I assure you no wizard could've faked that. They explain everything that has happened since Bertha Jorkins disappeared last summer."

"You are prepared to believe that Lord Voldemort has returned, on the word of a lunatic murderer, and some children that... well..."

"You've been reading Rita Skeeter, Mr Fudge," Harry said.

Mel gave a start, as well as the rest of their friends. Fudge blushed.

"And if I have? If I have discovered that you've been keeping certain facts about the kids very quiet? A Parselmouth, eh? Having funny turns all over the place, and that girl, attacking people for no reason —"

"I assume that you are referring to the pains Harry has been experiencing in his scar?" said Dumbledore coolly. "And Mel's unfortunate bursts of magic..."

"You admit that they've been having these things, then?" said Fudge. "Headaches? Nightmares? Possibly — hallucinations?"

"I'm not crazy," Her voice was too damaged, it came out sounding similar to Sirius' growls. It wasn't convincing.

"Listen to me, Cornelius. Harry and Mel are as sane as you or me. That scar upon his forehead has not addled his brains. I believe it hurts him when Lord Voldemort is close by, or feeling particularly murderous. Mel has the talent every woman in my family has inherited for centuries, this comes as no surprise either."

"You'll forgive me, Dumbledore, but I've never heard of a curse scar acting as an alarm bell before... and well, she comes from your brother, doesn't she? Abe's not exactly- er... stable."

"Look, I saw Voldemort come back!" Harry tried to get out of bed but Mrs Weasley and Emily kept him in place. "I saw the Death Eaters! I can give you their names! Lucius Malfoy —"

"Malfoy was cleared!" said Fudge. "A very old family — donations to excellent causes —"

"Him being rich does not mean he's clean," Mel argued.

"Macnair!" Harry continued.

"Also cleared! Now working for the Ministry!"

"Avery — Nott — Crabbe — Goyle —"

"You are merely repeating the names of those who were acquitted of being Death Eaters thirteen years ago! You could have found those names in old reports of the trials! For heaven's sake, Dumbledore — the boy was full of some crackpot story at the end of last year too — his tales are getting taller, and you're still swallowing them — the boy can talk to snakes, Dumbledore, your niece has a clear obsession with him, she'd do anything to remain in his good graces, and you still think they're trustworthy?"

"You fool!" Professor McGonagall yelled. "Cedric Diggory! Mr Crouch! These deaths were not the random work of a lunatic!"

"I see no evidence to the contrary! It seems to me that you are all determined to start a panic that will destabilize everything we have worked for these last thirteen years!"

She could not believe someone was so afraid of hearing the truth, not after all the signs, after two deaths...

"Voldemort has returned. If you accept that fact straightaway, Fudge, and take the necessary measures, we may still be able to save the situation. The first and most essential step is to remove Azkaban from the control of the dementors —"

"Preposterous! Remove the dementors? I'd be kicked out of office for suggesting it! Half of us only feel safe in our beds at night because we know the dementors are standing guard at Azkaban!"

"The rest of us sleep less soundly in our beds, Cornelius, knowing that you have put Lord Voldemort's most dangerous supporters in the care of creatures who will join him the instant he asks them! They will not remain loyal to you, Fudge! Voldemort can offer them much more scope for their powers and their pleasures than you can! With the dementors behind him, and his old supporters returned to him, you will be hard-pressed to stop him regaining the sort of power he had thirteen years ago!–  The second step you must take — and at once, is to send envoys to the giants."

"Envoys to the giants?" Fudge squealed. "What madness is this?"

"Extend them the hand of friendship, now, before it is too late, or Voldemort will persuade them, as he did before, that he alone among wizards will give them their rights and their freedom!"

"You — you cannot be serious! If the magical community got wind that I had approached the giants — people hate them, Dumbledore — end of my career —"

"You are blinded," There it was again, that wave of power surrounding Dumbledore, "by the love of the office you hold, Cornelius! You place too much importance, and you always have done, on the so-called purity of blood! You fail to recognize that it matters not what someone is born, but what they grow to be! Your dementor has just destroyed the last remaining member of a pureblood family as old as any — and see what that man chose to make of his life! I tell you now — take the steps I have suggested, and you will be remembered, in office or out, as one of the bravest and greatest Ministers of Magic we have ever known. Fail to act — and history will remember you as the man who stepped aside and allowed Voldemort a second chance to destroy the world we have tried to rebuild!"

"Insane– Mad..." Fudge was stepping further and further away.

Mel was holding onto Harry's hand to stop him from getting up, she could feel a pulse raising, but didn't know to who it belonged, or maybe it was their heartbeat, all in one... How weird that feeling was...

"If your determination to shut your eyes will carry you as far as this, Cornelius, we have reached a parting of the ways. You must act as you see fit. And I — I shall act as I see fit."

"Now, see here, Dumbledore... I've given you free rein, always. I've had a lot of respect for you. I might not have agreed with some of your decisions, but I've kept quiet. There aren't many who'd have let you hire werewolves, or keep Hagrid, or decide what to teach your students without reference to the Ministry. But if you're going to work against me —"

"The only one against whom I intend to work is Lord Voldemort. If you are against him, then we remain, Cornelius, on the same side."

"He can't be back, Dumbledore, he just can't be..."

Snape abruptly stepped forward, pulling up the left sleeve of his robes.

"There. The Dark Mark. It is not as clear as it was an hour or so ago, when it burned black, but you can still see it. Every Death Eater had the sign burned into him by the Dark Lord. It was a means of distinguishing one another, and his means of summoning us to him. When he touched the Mark of any Death Eater, we were to Disapparate, and Apparate, instantly, at his side. This Mark has been growing clearer all year. Karkaroff's too. Why do you think Karkaroff fled tonight? We both felt the Mark burn. We both knew he had returned. Karkaroff fears the Dark Lord's vengeance. He betrayed too many of his fellow Death Eaters to be sure of a welcome back into the fold."

Fudge stepped back from Snape too. He was shaking his head. He did not seem to have taken in a word Snape had said. He stared, apparently repelled by the ugly mark on Snape's arm, then looked up at Dumbledore and whispered, "I don't know what you and your staff are playing at, Dumbledore, but I have heard enough. I have no more to add. I will be in touch with you tomorrow, Dumbledore, to discuss the running of this school. I must return to the Ministry."

He had almost reached the door when he paused. He turned around, strode back down the dormitory, and stopped at Harry's bed.

"Your winnings," He threw the large bag of money onto Harry's bedside table. "One thousand Galleons. There should have been a presentation ceremony, but under the circumstances..."

"No one cares about the stupid award," Mel glared at him, growling. "You're a coward."

Fudge gripped onto his hat tightly and turned around without a word, slamming the infirmary door behind him. Dumbledore turned to look at the group around Harry's bed.

"There is work to be done," He said promptly. "Molly... am I right in thinking that I can count on you and Arthur?"

"Of course you can," said Mrs Weasley. "We know what Fudge is. It's Arthur's fondness for Muggles that has held him back at the Ministry all these years. Fudge thinks he lacks proper wizarding pride."

"Then I need to send a message to Arthur. All those that we can persuade of the truth must be notified immediately, and he is well placed to contact those at the Ministry who are not as shortsighted as Cornelius."

"I'll go to Dad," said Bill. "I'll go now."

"Excellent. Tell him what has happened. Tell him I will be in direct contact with him shortly. He will need to be discreet, however. If Fudge thinks I am interfering at the Ministry —"

"Leave it to me," said Bill. He said goodbye to both, Harry and Mel, kissed his mother on the cheek, pulled on his cloak, and strode quickly from the room.

"Minerva, I want to see Hagrid in my office as soon as possible. Also — if she will consent to come — Madame Maxime." Professor McGonagall left without a word.

"Poppy, would you be very kind and go down to Professor Moody's office, where I think you will find a house-elf called Winky in considerable distress? Do what you can for her, and take her back to the kitchens. I think Dobby will look after her for us."

"Very — very well," said Madam Pomfrey, and she too left.

"And now," He said once the woman was gone, "it is time for two of our number to recognize each other for what they are. Sirius... if you could resume your usual form."

Mrs Weasley screamed. "Sirius Black!"

"Mum, shut up!" Ron yelled. "It's okay!"

"He's not what you think he is," Emily grabbed her and gently pulled her back to her seat.

"Him!" Snape stared at Sirius in disgust. "What is he doing here?"

"He is here at my invitation as are you, Severus. I trust you both. It is time for you to lay aside your old differences and trust each other. I will settle, in the short term, for a lack of open hostility. You will shake hands. You are on the same side now. Time is short, and unless the few of us who know the truth do not stand united, there is no hope for any of us."

Sirius and Snape moved toward each other very reluctantly and shook hands. They let go quickly, and Sirius stood next to Emily.

"That will do to be going on with," said Dumbledore. "Now I have work for each of you. Fudge's attitude, though not unexpected, changes everything. Sirius, I need you to set off at once. Emily, as soon as you can you should join him. You are to alert Remus Lupin, Arabella Figg, Mundungus Fletcher — the old crowd. Lie low at Lupins for a while; I will contact you there."

"But —" Harry stopped, blushing a bit once he realized he was about to speak against Dumbledore's will.

"You'll see me very soon, Harry," said Sirius. "I promise you. But I must do what I can, you understand, don't you?"

"Yeah," said Harry. "Yeah... of course I do."

"Mily?" Sirius looked up.

"I'll join as soon as they're safe," Emily assured him. "I'll meet you at Moony's place."

Sirius nodded one last time before turning back into a dog and leaving the room.

"Severus," Dumbledore turned to Snape, "you know what I must ask you to do. If you are ready... if you are prepared..."

"I am," said Snape coldly.

"Then good luck." Dumbledore looked at her then. "Erick Flint proved himself tonight. If he's willing, tell him we'll need more help in the future, ask him if he'll join us."

"For what, exactly?" She asked, half fearful to hear the answer.

"Search for rogues," He said shortly. "I must go downstairs, I must see the Diggorys. Children — take the rest of your potion. I will see all of you later."

They fell back against Harry's pillows. Mel had a vague idea of what Dumbledore meant, but if she was right... she didn't think it'd be easy.

"You've got to take the rest of your potion, dearies," Mrs Weasley said. "You have a good long sleep. Try and think about something else for a while... think about what you're going to buy with your winnings!"

"I don't want that gold," said Harry dully. "You have it. Anyone can have it. I shouldn't have won it. It should've been Cedric's."

"It wasn't your fault, Harry," Mrs Weasley whispered.

"I told him to take the cup with me," said Harry, looking directly up at the ceiling. His voice sounded similar to Mel's now.

"Harry–" Emily held his chin and held his gaze, "What you did... No one will ever blame you for fighting as hard as you could. Don't you dare to feel like you're the one to blame."

Mrs Weasley put her arms around Harry in a sudden movement. He closed his eyes and held onto the woman. Emily stroke his back tenderly. Only then Mel allowed herself to breathe, to be less quiet. She let out a stifled sob and bitter relief washed over her. Harry was safe again, but it had been too late, it was always too late...

Hermione slammed her hand against the window. She was holding something in her hand.

"Sorry," She whispered.

"Your potion," Mrs Weasley insisted, and Emily held the two goblets as she poured the liquid in them.

Harry and Mel drank it quickly. She hadn't moved from Harry's bed and now she was already falling asleep. They fell back onto the pillows, hearing each other's even breathing.

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#twoidiots writing #Harry Potter #hp fanfic #harry potter fanfiction #harry potter xoc #WITT fic

[blog-of-a-multitude-of-fandoms]

Attacked - George Weasley

Pairing: George Weasley x Reader

Characters: George Weasley, Molly Weasley

Warnings: N/A

Request: Anon: “Could you do a George Weasley imagine where he goes to see his girlfriend at a Order of the Phoenix safe house after finding out she and her family were attacked by Death Eaters since her parents are members of the Order (she's still underaged to officially join like the twins)?”

Word Count: 980

Author: Hannah

Growing up you had always felt safe; you had always felt like you belonged and that nothing would ever happen to any of your family.

And you couldn’t have even known how wrong you were.

When Voldemort had returned, and the Order of the Phoenix had been started up again your parents had never hesitated in resuming their old positions.

They had never once hesitated in protecting those they loved – you, your brother, their friends and your friends – and now it had ended in them being attacked.

None of you could ever have predicted what was going to happen.

You were getting ready to go back to Hogwarts and so you, your brother and your parents were cautiously visiting Diagon Alley to get your supplies.

Ever since you’d arrived something hadn’t felt right, there was something off in the air and you could just feel it.

Your arm was linked firmly through your older brother’s whilst your parents walked a few paces ahead.

“Y/B/N,” you whispered as you walked. “Something doesn’t feel right.”

He nodded, not looking down at you but instead scanning the area around you both.

You took that as a sign to stay quiet and so you did so, observing every single dark nook and cranny to try and reassure yourself that everything was fine.

Just as you had that thought the alley was filled with screams.

You, your brother and your parents quickly became surrounded by those in Death Eater masks and robes.

Your brother pulled you into him, trying to shield you with his body as much as he could, and you both made eye contact with your parents.

They began to fight off the Death Eaters whilst your brother attempted to shield you and fight back.

“Go!” your dad yelled as he fought back to back with your mum.

With no hesitated your brother apparated the both of you to Grimmauld Place, not revealing headquarters until he was sure that no one had followed you.

The next few hours passed as a blur – Mrs Weasley had bustled you both into No.12 and had fussed and worried over any injuries, Mad Eye had demanded that the two of you be taken to a safe house so you couldn’t be traced whilst Tonks was worried about the two of you not going into shock.

You vaguely registered Mad Eye taking you and your brother to a safe house, not having been told anything about your parents or even if anyone had gone to go and see if they were okay.

Your brother ushered you into one of the bedrooms and got you into bed. He only left when he could tell you were asleep.

Whilst you slept Molly flooed over to the twins’ apartment above their shop, she knew George would want to know of what had happened to you.

She found her son in his bedroom as he sat at his desk. “George?”

He turned around at the sound of his Mum’s voice. “Mum! What’re you doing here?”

She sighed, pulling him into a hug. “It’s Y/N.”

At the mention of your name George’s face paled, his mind instantly thinking the worst. “What happened?”

“Her and her family were attacked in Diagon Alley earlier today,” she told him now. “Y/N and her brother have been taken to an Order house by Alastor, her parents haven’t been found yet, but I knew you would want to know.”

George processed this information and all he wanted to do was see you. He voiced as such to his mother and Molly could never say no to any of her children.

She quickly took George back to No.12 and soon enough he had been escorted to your safe house by Mad Eye as well.

He made his way inside and found your brother staring into space on the sofa.

“You alright Y/B/N?” he questioned.

Your brother turned, surprised at the sound of another voice but he relaxed when he realised it was only George.

“I’m sorry, my mum told me what happened.”

You brother nodded as he ran a hand through his hair. “I’m alright yeah, just shaken,” he stated. “Y/N is in the first room on your left, she’s been asleep for a while now if you want to go and check on her.”

George patted your brother on the shoulder and gave a small smile before heading up to the room you were in.

He tried to open the door as quietly as possible, but you still stirred at the sound.

“Hey there love,” George greeted you as you opened your eyes.

You smiled as your eyes landed on your boyfriend and you almost forgot what had happened earlier.

George noticed the change in your expression and quickly hurried over to you. “It’s okay now love, I promise.”

As soon as George put his arms around you you burrowed into them, grateful for the warmth and safety that they offered.

“I’m so sorry,” he whispered into your hair. “We’ll get them back here as soon as we can.”

You nodded against his chest, but his heart broke a little when he felt the wetness of your tears on his shirt.

He hated seeing you upset in any capacity, but this time was the worst – there was no joke, no wisecrack, no silly little prank that he could play that would even remotely make you feel better.

All he could do was hold you in his arms and whisper reassurances to you as he let you cry it out.

“I love you,” he spoke out loud as he pressed a kiss into your hair, slowly beginning to rock you in his arms. “And I’m not going anywhere, okay love?”

Again, you nodded against his chest as your hand curled into the back of his shirt, gripping tightly as if to reassure yourself that he really wasn’t going anywhere.

#Hannah #George Weasley #George Weasley One Shot #George Weasley Imagine #Harry Potter Series #Harry Potter Series One Shot #Harry Potter Series Imagine #Harry Potter Films #HP #HP One Shot #HP Imagine #Anon Request #Molly Weasley #Attacked

[dirt-cup-draco]

Remus x Reader- May You Love Her As I Love You

Can I request an scenario with Remus Lupin having a fiance that disappeared for 13 year because of the Death Eaters but then she came back because she was found. But he was married, so after the war ends and after thinking a lot about it he asks for divorce to be with her again. 

Hogwarts had been turned into a battlefield, carnage everywhere. The sun was high in the sky as neither side wanted to give any slack. They had to keep their boundaries while trying to push forward. The Death Eaters were greater in number than Remus had anticipated and he was growing tired despite trying to keep them back. 

While dodging spells and trying to save overwhelmed students and cornered professors, Remus had caught sight of someone darting behind a corner with such speed he was certain he’d imagined it. More than that, he was certain the person he’d seen, or not seen, had to be imaginary. You had been dead for years and that was a burden Remus still bore on his shoulders. 

Remus shook his head violently right as a bob of brown hair returned into his view. Tonk’s hand was warm in his and she dragged him out of the wreckage and into a momentarily unpopulated space of the castle. “You’ve got to pay attention,” She stressed with urgency in her voice. 

Remus took a deep breath and nodded, kissing her forehead in thanks. “I know... Silly as it sounds right now I just felt like I’d seen a ghost rounding the corner of the school,” 

“I hate to say it love, but we’ve got ghosts all around us now,” Tonks frowned deeply and Remus stroked her cheek before pushing the corners of her mouth up. “I’d like for you to not be one of them,” She spoke through his poking and it brought a more genuine smile to her face even if it didn’t reach her eyes. It wasn’t the time to smile. 

“And here I thought you were trying to get rid of me,” Remus teased, kissing his wife softly- afraid he would lose the chance to do so. 

“Oh hush, you old grump,” Tonks poked fun, kissing him back before her posture stiffened and that fiery spirit filled her back again. She’d needed to see Remus, needed to know he was okay. Now that she knew he was, she could go back into the heart of the battle. “I love you,” She reminded him, squeezing his hand before running away.

“Love you too,” He called out after her but he doubted she could hear him over all the noise. Remus clenched his fist, holding onto the warmth a bit longer. Tonks had been his peace of mind and a reminder that there were still good things in the world. James and Lily had been ripped from him in a second. Sirius being sent away had seemed like the worst that could happen. He had spent so many years hating his best friend and believing lies that when Sirius had come back he’d been too relieved to think anything could get worse.

He had been wrong and when Harry had come to him with anger in his heart and tears in his eyes he had known that something had happened. Losing Sirius all over again had caused him to block out the people he cared for most and he had neglected Tonks for months after. It had been his sudden fear that if she stayed with him, she too would lose her life. He’d already lost one wife and losing another seemed unbearable. 

It had been nearly two decades since he last saw you. You’d made a gorgeous breakfast while he’d been getting ready for his day and he’d come downstairs to see you setting the table, humming as you twirled about the kitchen. You’d worn some shorts and an old Gryffindor t-shirt of his that was faded nearly beyond recognition. It had always been your favorite and when you snuck into his dorm at night to fall asleep curled up beside him you always requested (demanded) to wear it. 

You had both spoken of trivial things that morning, reading the paper and rolling your eyes over the gossip articles. He’d held your hand while he drank his coffee. You’d snuck a chocolate bar into his jacket pocket when he wasn’t looking. When the clock struck seven, he had rose from his seat and you’d followed him to the door. 

You’d kissed him like you always had and he had smiled against your lips because no matter how much time passed he would never get tired of the feeling of you pressed against him. Everything had been blissfully ordinary. 

Remus hated remembering what had occurred next while he had been away. He’d gotten home to find the door to your cozy one bedroom home wide opened, the wood splintered around the handle and one of the hinges had come loose. He’d gone into a panic, running around your small home screaming your name. He’d found a vase shattered on the ground, drops of nearly dried blood on the carpet. You’d been stolen from him, but worse than that he hadn’t been there to keep it from happening. He’d eaten the lunch you’d packed him, talked to coworkers, done paperwork. All while you’d been dragged, kicking and fighting and afraid. 

It didn’t take long for Dumbeldore to come to him with the same pitying look he’d grown accustomed to over the years. His adolescent life had been full of dreams and hopes for the future. He’d dreamed of having a home with you and having all his friends over for dinners. You’d all see each other at least once a week and you’d all grow old together with kids of your own who would befriend one another. Instead, the friends he considered family and the woman he loved more than there were stars in the sky, were taken from him and he was left empty. 

He loved Tonks, was happy she could love a man like him, but painted on the backs of his eyelids were the faces of everyone he’d lost and your loss still pained him the most. You had been his soulmate and he hadn’t gotten even a fraction of the years he’d wanted to spend with you.  A not-so-distant boom, accompanied by a bone rattling quake through the stone beneath his feet shook Remus from the nightmare he found himself trapped in every time he closed his eyes.

With a muttered curse and the resolve to ignore his ghosts, Remus ran back into the chaos.

--

You nearly tripped over a slab of concrete when you’d seen Remus. He’d been standing still, eyes surveying the battle as he caught his breath. He looked old, defeated. But he was still the same handsome man you had loved with every bit of your heart and more. You forgot yourself for a moment and when he began to look your way you gasped and darted around the corner, legs moving quicker than you had in ages. 

There wasn’t much to do when you were in hiding, you could only jog up and down the stares so many time to cure the boredom and you had read every book you owned four times over in the past thirteen years. You cleaned every square inch of the place to pass time but even that grew difficult as you found you didn’t have much to clean when you did it every day. Alastor Moody had kept you some company when he could, he would bring your groceries and despite the permanently sour look on his face you found a good friend in him. 

When he’d stopped arriving, you’d gotten the terrible news that he’d been killed. It was hard losing another friend. Especially when you couldn’t reach out to the ones that were still living, still growing and laughing and smiling and loving... You had so hoped that Remus would be one of them and that he hadn’t forgotten how to love once you’d disappeared. It had been Dumbeldore’s decision to tell him you were dead.

“We cannot know how long you will have to stay hidden... Why give a broken man hope when that hope may be the thing that destroys him? It is, regrettably, our only decision. You will only bring him pain otherwise,” He had told you in the first week of your disappearance when you had grown restless and wished to have your husband by your side. Remus and you had been inseparable since your first year of school and being without him had seemed like hell. It was hell. You thought sourly, the past thirteen years having gone by slowly and painfully. 

The headmaster had given your love some time to come to terms with the tragedy that supposedly befell you, and then he had torn the bandaid off the wound that was bound to fester and told him you were killed. You tried to believe that was the best decision. And now, it seemed you were forced to. 

You rounded the corner but paused once more as you heard Remus’ voice floating from an empty hall. There was a chunk of the wall that had been blasted out and you could easily hide behind a crumbling slab without being seen. You watched as a pretty woman held Remus to her, love and concern vibrant in her expressive eyes. His smile was small, hesitant even with the current events, but genuine. He was in love. It was hard to see but you knew it would have been harder to see him lonely. Just like you. 

As he ran off you righted yourself, grip around your wand tight again as you searched for stragglers who intended to cause more destruction and the wounded. Minerva, Moody and Dumbeldore were the only three who knew you were living and well. With two of your secret keepers dead, Minerva had taken it upon herself to tell you of how grievous things had become.You hadnt taken a moment to think about it, you had gone to her and asked how to help.

Despite her initial upset, it was decided that when a battle began- “and there will be one, I can promise you that Miss. Y/L/N” Minerva had said- you would join and help fight for the children. You were not to approach Remus and it was in everyone’s best interest if you stuck to the shadows. Dependent on the outcome, you’d be free or a dead woman. 

Collecting yourself, you weaved through the wreckage with sharp eyes, tuning out the screaming voice in your head that told you to go to Remus. 

--

It was with bated breath that everyone waited when victory was announced. Victory was a bitter taste in the mouths of all who had lost a parent, a child, a friend. It seemed too good to be true that the war was over, Voldemort defeated once in for all. It seemed like a nightmare that the living couldn’t wake from. Many crowded to view the bodies, hidden by white blankets. Some looked peaceful, their expressions like that of someone sleeping. Others died with a scream that had been permanently etched onto their face. Some were missing parts of them, the sheets soaked through with blood. 

The wails of mothers and the disbelieving expressions of the students around you were nearly too much to bear as you walked in the shadows. The mourning was stifling and deep and you hid behind it- observing. Your heart pounded with fear as you tried to get a look at the killed and injured. Was Remus there too? You had to know, despite Minerva’s warnings. She’d been the one to tell you when he married again and you loved and hated her for it. You were glad to know he was happy but a bitter and lonely part of you hated that he was happy without you. 

You could only feel relief now however as you spotted Remus’ wild hair, his pants tattered and a very obvious hole at his knee. Dirt was smudged against his cheek but you could see a clean trail through it as he cried. Exhaustion weighed him down as he slouched. His hand was intertwined with someone’s and your heart twisted as you recognized the woman as his wife. You hadn’t asked Minerva for her name, not wanting to hate someone who you knew was probably a lovely person. 

She was laid out on the ground, eyes closed but you noticed, with a bittersweet feeling, that her chest was still rising and falling with determination. It seemed you had stared a bit too long however, because the next time you went to observe the man you had hoped to spend the rest of your days with, he was staring right back. The blood had drained from his face and his mouth hung open. 

You were frozen to the spot as he ran a shaking hand through his hair as he continued to star at you, his wife’s hand falling from his grasp as he rose on trembling legs. His mouth moved, a whisper of your name that didn’t quite reach your ears but you had stared at those lips more times than you could remember and it wasn’t hard to know what he had uttered. He took one step toward you and it caused your chest to restrict with panic. 

Run you fool! Apparate! Anything! You aren’t a ghost and he’ll realize it soon if he hasn’t already. He’s happy and you’re ruining it!

It seemed no matter how much you demanded yourself to you were stuck in the same position, knees locking into place and arms stiff. When you failed to disappear, Remus’ steps grew more reassured and determined. He was nearly upon you, you could hear the sound of him breathing and see the stubble dappled across his cheeks and the fuller mustache that he had always been adamant he’d never grown when you’d first been married. 

You were so close you could touch him and oh how long it had been since you’d felt his familiar warmth... Your breath hitched and his eyes grew wide at the sound of it. Your time was running out. 

You ran. 

--

Remus stared down at Tonks, her face free of wrinkles and worries as she lay unconscious. He held tight of her hand and stroked the skin there with his thumb, wishing she would give him one of her gorgeous smiles. “Please wake up darling....” He begged as a few tears escaped him. She gave no response and his battered and beaten heart ached in his cheat. 

It was then that the hair on the back of his neck stood on end and a chill traveled down his aching back as he sat up straighter, rubbing the tears away as he searched around the crowded area. Death hung heavy in the air and when his eyes found the source of his discomfort he was sure that you had come to haunt him. You looked as beautiful as you did the day you’d been taken. 

Yet, you looked older. Your hair was longer than he remembered, wrinkles apparent on your forehead as you looked the the left of him, your eyebrows knitted together in thought. Your gaze shifted and suddenly he found your eyes staring into his. He thought he imagined it when you went still, eyes wide and lip tugged between your teeth. It couldn’t be. He told himself yet he looked to Tonks and set her hand down gently against her cot. 

“Hold on love, I’ll be back soon,” He promised to his wife as he tried to find the strength to go to you. Had he died? He wondered as he walked on autopilot past his mourning peers. Was he one of the dead, buried beneath a sheet and now roaming aimlessly. Had you come to collect him?

It seemed impossible solely because of the ache that permeated his entire being. Surely death would have freed him from his pain, not trapped him within it. 

“Y/N,” He tried, the sound of your name odd in his mouth and guilt sunk in his stomach like lead in water. 

You stayed frozen and he nearly feared that he was hallucinating until he was only a few paces from you. Your chest rose quickly and he heard your sharp inhale. Y/N, his Y/N, was breathing. The sound knocked his own breath from his lungs and he hesitated long enough that when he came back to the present, you were spinning on your heel and darting from the ruined castle. 

“Wait!” He hollered after you, voice cracking like it had when he was a teen. You’d been quick to defend him back then when Sirius’ and James’ teasing had become insufferable. 

You didn’t seem to hear his words, or you chose to ignore them, as you continued to escape him. His legs were growing stiff in the joints from endless, brutal full moons. It was hard to keep up with you but he was determined to reach the ghost that had been torturing his sleeping and waking moments for thirteen years. 

Your feet carried you all the way to the Black Lake, a place where you and Remus had spent many evenings watching the sun set. You paused, head spinning on your shoulders as you caught your breath, wondering where to run next. 

Remus charged forward with renewed vigor and caught your forearm in his grasp. You involuntarily jerked away and he tightened his grip. He had been half expecting his hand to phase through you and now that was proven incorrect, he wasn’t sure what to think. He opened his mouth to speak as you turned towards him with pain in your eyes. Unsaid regrets and untold secrets swam in the depths and he wanted to dive in and learn the truth. 

“Rem-” You were the first to speak and the sound of your voice nearly broke him as his knees buckled. Your own legs felt weak beneath you and you sank beside him as he kept a tight hold of you. 

“Why?” He interrupted, breaths coming quick as he stared at you. Remus didn’t know if he was furious or crushed or over the moon. Maybe all three. “Why is my dead wife haunting me?” 

Your words betrayed you as they got stuck in your throat. Your eyes were quick to well up with tears and you gripped his shoulders to steady yourself. 

“Why are you alive?!” He croaked, voice rising with his mounting confusion and hurt. How could you be here? How could you be in front of him, living and breathing and wonderful while the woman who had stayed, the one who had picked up his broken pieces was back in the crumbling castle fighting to stay alive? 

“I’m so sorry,” You choked out, cheeks glistening with tears. “I so badly wanted to tell you...” 

Remus felt like the world had slowed but his thoughts had sped up beyond his comprehension.He didn’t know what to think, what to feel. He was waiting for you to fade away, a distant memory brought on by the battle’s trauma. Yet your hands were warm and strong against his shoulders and it couldn’t be denied that you were living.

“I had to hide, we’d be killed otherwise and I couldn’t risk you!” You tried explaining. “I wanted so badly to tell you, to let you know I was okay but Dumbeldore h-he said it’d only bring you pain if I said anything and I couldn’t do that to you...” 

Remus scoffed. “You think I haven’t been in pain? How would you feel being abandoned by the only person you have left? I had no one! James- dead! Lily- dead! Sirius- imprisoned and then murdered!” Remus’ voice was growing in volume and you winced against the painful truth he spat at you.

“I watched the people I loved most die and disappear around me and all I had was you to keep me together. You made it bearable, you made it okay to look forward to another day. And you’re telling me you faked your own death to keep me from hurting? I will tell you one thing Y/N, I never stopped hurting!” 

His tears were burning against his eyelids as he let them fall to the grass beneath him. “I never once stopping missing you, wishing they’d taken me instead. I went to your grave every day for months until I couldn’t bear talking to stone any longer. I married the most brilliant, loving, forgiving woman in this world and I still only see you when I close my eyes. Because I love her, but I love you...” He choked out as the truth burned him. 

Remus felt sick as he fell apart in front of you, your own sobs mingling with his as you leaned against one another. “H-how am I supposed to face her knowing you’re alive? How am I supposed to go back to her and pretend that you aren’t out there somewhere?” 

“No,” You shook your head, eyes startled and so, so sad. “No Remus, you can’t say that! You are going to go back to your wife and you are going to forget this ever happened,” 

“I can’t! I can’t forget you no matter how much I wish I could!”

Your heart was being torn in two. You couldn’t be the woman to take Remus away from the life he had built here, yet you wanted nothing more than to be that woman. You wanted to have him as your husband again, you wanted to find another sleepy little cottage to live in. You wanted to make him breakfast in the morning and read the newspaper, you wanted to fall asleep beside him after tracing his scars and playing with his hair. You wanted him back. 

Your bottom lip trembled and Remus cupped your cheek in his gentle hand. You let out another sob as you leaned into it. How many days you had woken wishing to hold his hand, how many nights you had fallen asleep wishing his hands were on you. “How can I ever stop loving you-” Remus whispered. “When I know you’ll always look at me like that?” 

You gave him a weak smile as you held his hand against your cheek. His nose brushed against yours and you had to bite back a whimper when his lips hovered less than an inch away from yours. “I love you Remus,” You reminded him as you began to shake. 

“I love you too,” He mumbled as he connected your lips. You kissed back with all you had held back in the years you couldn’t be with him. Your tears mingled with his and all you could taste was salt and not the normal sugar you came to relate with Remus. 

You had to pull away as your breath was stolen from you and another sob wracked through your body. You let out a pained cry as you began shaking your head. “I love you so much,” You hiccuped. “Please forgive me,” 

“Of course!” Remus rushed to say, hands cupping your cheeks. "I forgive-”

“Somnium” You interrupted, lips skating across his once more as his eyes rolled back in his head, shoulders slumping as you gathered him up in your arms. You held him tight against you, knowing your time was limited and the sleeping hex wouldn’t last long but you weren’t ready yet. You didn’t think you’d ever be ready.

Despite the longing that was ripping you to shreds, you couldn’t let Remus tear apart the love he’d found. You had been so ready to be his again, to find that cottage and live that dream. But he had been right, she had been there putting him back together and you hadn’t. You’d left him alone and vulnerable. You couldn’t put her in the same position by stealing away the man she adored, and the man that so clearly adored her. “I hope you meant it when you said you’d forgive me,” You cried out, placing a tender kiss to Remus’ forehead. 

Closing your eyes, you shielded yourself from the face that would make you hesitate. Your hand shook as you attempted to raise your wand, pressing the tip of it gently against Remus’ temple. “May you love her as I love you. I am only but a ghost to you now,” 

Obliviate. 

Tag List: @angelinathebook @thehumanistsdiary @cleopatera

#remus x reader #remus lupin x reader #fluff #angst #ask #request #anon #anon ask

[january3693]

Someone We Used to Know - Part 47

(This is a Marauders Era AU about what might have changed if Sirius was expelled after the Prank. Here’s the Master List if you’d like to start from the beginning or find a specific part)

Early that same morning, before Regulus wakes up, before the Black brothers are having their stilted breakfast, James, Peter, and Remus apparate into the kitchen of an Order safe house.

 They’re unharmed, physically at least. They’re giddy and nauseous with adrenaline and another brush with death. Their breathing comes fast, they’re trembling head to toe, but it passes quickly.

 They’re getting used to these feelings. They’re getting used to death.

 Remus laughs. He leans against the kitchen counter and laughs at nothing and everything and sucks in deep shaky breaths that feel like they bring no oxygen to his lungs. He feels lightheaded. Did you see? He wants to ask. Did you see how close that curse came to my head? Did you see how I almost died?

 Thankfully, he doesn’t have the breath to say the words out loud.

 James goes to the sink and washes his hands. He feels dirty. He feels filthy. He can’t go back to his wife and child with hands this dirty. There’s blood on them, even if it’s metaphorical today. Did you see? He wants to ask. Did you see if the spell hit that man? Did you see if he died? Did you see if I killed him?

 He doesn’t dare ask these questions out loud.

 Peter stands in the middle of the kitchen, frozen. He feels empty, hollow. So many questions echo around in this void within him. He doesn’t ask those questions out loud, but unlike his friends, he does speak.

 “That wasn’t supposed to happen,” Peter says. His voice sounds hollow too. It bounces and reverberates through all the nooks and cavities within him. “This wasn’t supposed to be dangerous, there wasn’t supposed to be anyone there.”

 James splashes water on his face.

 “Yeah,” he agrees. This was supposed to be just a quick reconnaissance mission. No danger. No Death Eaters. Home before breakfast.

 Remus lets out another laugh. “Just our luck, eh?”

 James slurps a mouthful of water directly from the tap then spits it out into the sink.

 There’s a thumping, clunking sound coming down the hallway toward them.

 All three of them wince.

 Alastor Moody wrenches open the door and looks in on them, wand first. There are procedures. They follow them. Questions and answers. With Moody on safehouse duty they’re lucky to get away without any invasive poking with a probity probe. Eventually, he leaves them with a gruff “harumph” and a reminder that someone needs to write up a report on what happened.

 “I’ll do it,” Peter volunteers. The other two murmur their thanks. They pat him on the back as he heads out of the kitchen and down the hall, leaving Remus and James alone.

 “Fuck, I’m starving,” James says. He slurps up another handful of water, swallowing this time.

 “I’m not,” Remus replies. He’s shaky and his skin itches, but he’s alive and it feels like lightning in his veins.

 James looks over his shoulder at his friend. He frowns, not quite sure what he’s seeing when he looks at Remus. Something is different these days. James isn’t sure if it’s good different or bad different.

 The only thing he knows for sure is that it’s because of Sirius.

 “You should eat,” James says. “You need to eat more.”

 It’s preachy, a little condescending, but James worries. He always worries about his friends.

 “I eat enough,” Remus replies. “I’m just not hungry right now.” He’s alive and he wants to feel it. He wants to feel everything. He’s supposed to meet Sirius for lunch today. Maybe he’ll go early. Maybe he’ll sate all these other hungers before they get food.

 James watches him with a frown like he can read Remus’s mind, which, Remus really hopes isn’t true. Now would be a terrible time for James to practice his legilimency.

 “Remus, are you…are you, okay?”

 Remus laughs again. Are any of them actually okay?

 James grimaces and bites his lip. He tries another track. “Are you happy?” He asks instead.

 Once again, Remus laughs. He can’t seem to stop. This time there’s actual joy in it though, and isn’t that a change?

 “Yes,” Remus replies, a bit stunned to find that it’s true. In the midst of all this danger and awfulness, Remus Lupin, perpetually anxious and self-loathing werewolf, is happy.

 James’s frown deepens. His eyes shift away from Remus; his worry drawing within.

 Remus knows he’s thinking about Sirius too, albeit in a very different way.

 “You should go see him, talk to him,” Remus says.

 James clenches his jaw. After a moment it unclenches.

 “He won’t stay here forever,” Remus reminds James, “and you’ll be sorry if you don’t mend fences before he leaves.”

 “And you’re all right with that?” James asks. “Knowing that he’s just going to leave again?”

 He’s very different from James. Remus realizes this for the first time in a long time. War has a way of equalizing people in strange ways, so much so that Remus has actually forgotten some of the things that have otherwise divided him from his friends for a lifetime.

 He smiles at James, not with condescension, but with a fond sort of tolerance.

 “I was never the marriage and kids sort,” Remus says. He’s never believed that life was an option. He still doesn’t. Remus is still shocked by this brief burst of personal happiness; he never even considers the possibility of it lasting, of it being forever.

 Remus still, on occasion, doubts that his friendships with James, Peter, and Lily will survive all the trials and tribulations the world has to throw at them. How could he possibly imagine this affair with Sirius could ever be more than an interlude in a life of loneliness?

 James frowns, and Remus isn’t sure if the thoughtfulness behind it is for him or for James’s own situation.

 “It’s not easy,” James admits.

 “No,” Remus admits. “But I think you’ll regret it if you don’t try.”

 “You’re probably right.” James hates admitting that to anyone other than Lily. He hates being wrong, almost as much as he hates being angry. “You’re going to see him today?”

 “We’re getting lunch, because, yes, I do eat,” Remus says.

 “Can you arrange something?” James asks tentatively. “Maybe a drink, this evening or something if he’s free…I don’t want to just barge in, and I doubt he’d appreciate an owl at his Muggle hotel.”

 Remus smiles as he nods. He feels happy. He feels content. He feels electric.

 Despite the terrible start, this feels like it’s going to be a good day, for all of them.

  The next few updates will actually be a short story from Sirius’s past to give you guys a bit more insight into that before certain things progress in the main story.

#someone we used to know #someone we used to know story post #marauders au #harry potter au #First War with Voldemort #first Order of the Phoenix #Remus Lupin #James Potter #peter pettigrew #wolfstar #Wolfstar fanfiction

[pufflyhallows]

Comforting Enough

Pairing: George Weasley x reader

Request: May I request an imagine where George and the reader have been close for many years, her father being friends with the Weasley’s. The reader and George obviously have feelings for eachother, but they’ve never confessed. When Fred and George leave she is still at hogwarts, cause shes a year younger. But, the reader gets into a serious relationship with someone else, until she gets hurt or cheated on. Cut to now, where they meet again at the Burrow when Harry is being moved ? Thank u!💛

a/n: I took the movie as reference, hope you don’t mind. Also, I think it got this long because I had to go through a few events to be as close to canon as possible. Thanks again for requesting it, I loved the idea! 

Warnings: angsty, mentions of death and blood.

Word count: 4,898

********

You hugged your pillow tight and let out all the tears you had been holding during the way back to your dorm.

How could he do that to you? You had always been there for him. Always! You didn’t deserve that. No one deserved that. 

The thought of how unfair it was only made you cry even more. 

Why had he done that to you? You couldn’t understand. He said... he said he loved you. But that wasn’t love. That couldn’t be love.

The scene went through your eyes again. The sharp feeling of a knife being dug into your heart was too intense. 

It was just before the last class of the day. You had seen him at lunch, you had shared a short kiss, you had gone separate ways. A perfectly normal day.

But you heard giggles coming from the second floor girls’ lavatory on your way to the last class. You, being the Head Girl, had to go there and see if Moaning Myrtle was being teased by the students or something of the sort. You would never think that what you were about to see was your boyfriend shamelessly making out with a girl. A girl that wasn’t you. A girl that was sitting on the sinks with her legs wrapped around your boyfriend’s hips. 

You froze on the spot. You wanted to turn around and leave. You wanted to run as fast as you could, but your feet were glued to the ground. You could only watch the scene with your mouth dry.

It was only when the girl saw you and parted the kiss that you were able to turn around and run to your dorm. You guessed your boyfriend saw you leaving too, because the last thing you heard was him yelling at the girl. 

“You said no one comes here!”

And now there you were. The tears fell down so quickly, you thought they would never stop. 

Your chest felt so tight, the room so small, the bed so cold... 

But the worst part of it all was the fact that you had no one to call. You couldn’t think of a single person you could go to at that moment. There was no shoulder to cry on. Well, of course there was someone in your mind, though. But that someone wasn’t here anymore. And, God, did it hurt. 

It hurt because you knew if that someone was still here, you wouldn’t be going through that. How many times had he warned you about the boy you insisted in dating? How many letters had he sent you saying you deserved better? Saying that boy wasn’t the one for you? Saying he would hurt you?

And how many letters had you sent back saying you were the one who knew what was best for you? And that he had lost the right to say those things when he left?

One. Only one.

George didn’t write back after that. 

Your crying got even more intense as you thought about what happened between you and your best friend. You had no one to cry to anymore. You had no one to hold you until the pain went away. You had no one.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Your seventh year in Hogwarts was the hardest school year you had ever been through. You caught your boyfriend cheating on you with a younger girl just weeks shy of graduation, but that didn’t compare to the death of your headmaster Albus Dumbledore and the small battle that took place in Hogwarts just before that. It was the scariest moment of your life and when you truly realized you were in a war, leaving you completely lost and on the verge of despair. 

Once you were back home, you felt uncertain of your future as the fear of losing your loved ones was taking over you. 

The long weeks went by and you saw your father going out often while your mother spent her days making sure all the protection spells worked. She was starting to become obsessed with it and you were worried about her, but you didn’t know what to do. You were spending your days almost like her. Though instead of protection spells, your obsession was the news. Every day you read the news terrified of seeing a known name on the missing people list... or worse.

You wanted to do something to help, and although your father agreed you were old enough to fight, your mother always rejected the idea, keeping you home.

One day, you were surprised by the visit of Arthur Weasley. It was strange to realize that you had missed him very much. You wanted to be part of the conversation he was having with your father, but your mother kept you in the kitchen with her, saying they needed privacy.

When they were finished and Mr. Weasley left, your father had a puzzled look on his face. You wondered what they had talked about specifically, although you knew it was the war.

The next day, your father came to your room and, for your shock, said you would have to leave.

“It’s not safe enough here,” he said, holding your hand, “You’ll stay at the Burrow, with the Weasleys. I’m sure you’ll feel at home there.”

Of course you would. You had basically grown up there. 

“Yes, but what about you and mom?”

“We’ll be okay. Don’t worry,” he gave you a smile, but that didn’t stop you from worrying at all. “Arthur brought me a Portkey. You’ll use it this evening.”

“This evening?! Dad, I don’t understand. Why aren’t you coming with me?” you frowned, confused.

“Your mother and I have work to do here,” he answered with a more serious expression, “You’ll be safer there.”

“When will I see you again?” you asked, realizing you had no choice.

“Soon. Now pack what you need and be ready.”

You nodded and your father left the room. Although you didn’t quite understand why you had to leave or why you would be safer at the Burrow, you did as your father said and packed what you needed.

Soon enough you were standing at his office and staring at an old book on the floor, holding your suitcase. Both of your parents were there with you, your father’s arm around your mother’s shoulder. 

“In a minute, darling,” your father spoke.

“I love you,” your mother said, holding back tears.

“I love you too. Both of you,” you replied.

“We’ll meet again,” your father stated, refusing to take part in the farewell. He looked at his watch one more time and nodded, “Be ready.”

You took a deep breath and tightened the grip on your suitcase’s handle. 

You didn’t remember hearing your father’s signal or touching the old book. All you remembered was feeling a hook pulling you back strongly. You closed your eyes as you felt really dizzy and only opened them again once your feet were firm on the ground.

You looked around and recognized the living room you were in. It didn’t take long for you to see Mrs. Weasley rushing from the kitchen.

“Oh, Y/N! You’re just in time! Thank Merlin,” she approached you with her arms open to give you a tight hug, “Welcome, dear.”

“Thank you, aunt Molly.”

“They haven’t arrived yet. I’m waiting with Ginny,” she took the suitcase from your hand and walked towards the stairs. You followed her. “I know they still have time, but you know what a mother’s heart is like. I will only calm down when my four boys come back here safely. And Arthur, of course.”

“Um... Where are they?”

Mrs. Weasley stopped in the middle of the corridor and looked at you. 

“You don’t know?”

You shook your head.

“Your parents didn’t tell you?”

You shook your head again, slightly upset for being left out.

“Oh, well. They are moving Harry,” she continued her way to Ginny’s room, “Alastor came up with this nearly crazy plan to bring him. Insanely dangerous! I didn’t agree with it, of course, but do they listen to me? Not ever.”

“Fred and... George are there too?” you asked. It was the first time in months you said those names aloud. You felt weird, actually. And sad. Those names rolled out of your tongue as if you were talking about strangers, or at least two people you met in a different life. Either way, you felt sad.

“Yes. They are out there with Arthur, Bill and Ron. Can’t blame me for being worried, huh?”

“No, I cannot,” you shook your head, feeling worried as well, “Who else is with them?”

“Alastor, of course, along with Fleur, Remus, Nymphadora, Hagrid, Hermione, Kingsley and Mundungus.” 

You felt your worry slightly fade away as you heard those names. You would trust those people with your life if needed. Your father was friends with Mad-Eye Moody and you were well aware of his incredible reputation. But you knew you couldn’t be completely relaxed though, given the risks of the mission, and you felt your guts twirl once you thought about your friends facing Death Eaters. However, you didn’t have to worry about that, they wouldn’t have to face anyone that night, they were just moving Harry.

“Ginny?” Mrs. Weasley opened the door, allowing you to see Ginny staring at her window with her arms crossed. “Y/N is here.”

“Hey,” you waved at her. 

Ginny quickly walked up to you and hugged you almost just as tight as her mother had. 

“It’s really good to see you, Y/N,” she whispered, sounding relieved. 

“It’s good to see you too, little one,” you breathed, realizing how much you had missed her, even though you had seen each other in Hogwarts weeks before.

You had always seen Ginny as your best friend’s little sister, hence the nickname you gave her, but after she caught you crying in the Common Room at two in the morning and stayed with you until you were able to go to bed, you started seeing her as a friend. Even though you weren’t really close, she comforted you and made sure you were okay before leaving you alone again. You couldn’t expect that from many people.

“We should wait for them downstairs, girls,” Mrs. Weasley said as she placed your suitcase on the bed, “It’s almost time.”

You and Ginny went to the living room, while Mrs. Weasley decided to stay in the kitchen, where she would be closer to the entrance door.

With each and every sound you heard outside, you felt your heart sinking in. You were trying to push those thoughts away, but it was impossible. What if George didn’t come back? What if something happened to him? Of course you were worried about every single person in that mission, but... George had your heart in his hands. He had it ever since your thirteenth birthday and he would have it forever. You loved him deeply, no matter how many times you had tried to fool yourself by going out with different people and even being in a serious relationship with a boy that wasn’t good to you, which turned out hurting you badly. 

You shouldn’t have sent that letter to George. Those couldn’t be your last words to him. They won’t be, you thought. But you couldn’t stop the regret from flooding your mind as you remembered one specific part of the letter.

You don’t get to tell me who I can or can’t go out with. I know what’s best for me and if I want to go out with Pete, I will. You don’t know him like I do. 

You were embarrassed. You didn’t think you would be able to look George in the eyes now. Did he know Pete had cheated on you? Had Ginny told him? Should you ask her? Probably not. It wasn’t time for that. She was worried about truly important things at that moment.

But you couldn’t help it. You kept wondering. Was George upset with you? He didn’t write back after that letter, which meant you two hadn’t talked to each other for several months now. You missed him very much, but you had no idea of how you were going to fix things. That is, if you could fix things.

Suddenly, you heard a noise outside, the loudest in that night. You and Ginny jumped from the couch and ran to the front yard, where Mrs. Weasley welcomed Hagrid and Harry. 

Ginny ran to the boy and threw her arms around his neck. 

“Where are the others?” Mrs. Weasley asked. 

“Is no one else back?” Harry questioned. 

You shook your head, biting your lower lip nervously. 

Hagrid started explaining to Mrs. Weasley what had happened to them, while Ginny and Harry talked to each other. You wanted to give them privacy, so you followed Hagrid and Mrs. Weasley inside. 

“We didn’t stand a chance, Molly,” Hagrid said, once the three of you were in the kitchen, “The Death Eaters were waiting for us. It was an ambush.”

You felt cold in your core. The fear you had been trying to push away finally took over your entire being. You needed to sit down, or else you would fall. 

An ambush. 

“Quick! Into the house!” you heard the familiar voice of your former teacher Remus Lupin coming from the front yard. You ran to the entrance door and opened it to let the people inside. What you didn’t expect to see was George covered in blood being held by Lupin and Harry. 

“My boy!” Mrs. Weasley cried, “My boy.”

Professor Lupin and Harry laid George down on the couch. You watched it all from the kitchen door, too shocked to even breathe properly. Your hands were shaking and your core felt so cold... You didn’t know what to do. Worrying about the whole Pete situation seemed so silly and insignificant now. 

You didn’t remember seeing the others arrive, but with a blink of an eye you saw Fred kneeling down in front of George, everyone else watching with worried expressions. 

“How do you feel, Georgie?” Mrs. Weasley whispered.

George’s fingers groped for the side of his head. 

“Saintlike,” he murmured. 

“What’s wrong with him?” Fred croaked, looking terrified. “Is his mind affected?”

“Saintlike,” George repeated, opening his eyes and looking up at his brother. “You see... I’m holey, Fred, get it?”

You chuckled silently, feeling a tear roll down your cheek. But you quickly wiped it as you saw Tonks looking at you curiously. 

Fred laughed quietly. “The whole wide world of ear-related humor, and you go for ‘I’m holey’? It’s pathetic.”  

“Reckon I’m still better looking than you,” George smiled weakly. 

You smiled to yourself after hearing that. He was still the same George you had grown up with and fallen for. The same George that had taught you how to fly on a broomstick and how to play Quidditch and Exploding Snap. The same George you had shared your deepest secrets with. The same George.

You were gathering the courage to get closer to him and let him see you, but you were completely disarmed when Bill announced the bad news. 

“Mad-Eye is dead.”

The room instantly fell in silence. You could see the usual sparkle in Tonks’ eyes fading away. 

“Mundungus took one look at Voldemort and disapparated,” Bill added in a low voice. 

No one dared to say a word. Everyone seemed to be completely in shock. You didn’t move one muscle, Mr. and Mrs. Weasley shared a sad glance, Ginny looked down at her feet, Fleur got closer to Bill, Tonks placed her hand on Lupin’s and slowly every person in that room felt the reality hitting them. 

The sad atmosphere was almost unbearable, the silence deafening.

You crossed your arms above your chest in an attempt of holding yourself tight.

And it was just the beginning... 

After a while, the people in the room started leaving. Some passed by you and went to the kitchen, some went outside, others went to their own rooms... Until it was just you, Mrs. Weasley and the twins. 

George couldn’t see you from where he was, since Fred was in the way. Mrs. Weasley was caressing her son’s hair with one hand and trying to clean the blood with the other. You hesitantly approached the couch, seeing that George had his eyes closed, and touched Mrs. Weasley’s trembling hand. 

“Let me do it,” you asked softly. 

George instantly opened his eyes at the sound of your voice. You didn’t meet them as you didn’t think you were strong enough to do so. You took the handkerchief from Mrs. Weasley’s hand and told her to rest. She didn’t reject the idea and soon left the room as well, being followed by Fred, who understood the importance of that moment for you and his brother. 

You could feel George’s eyes piercing you, but you ignored them. You sat by his side on the couch and focused on his injury, softly wiping the blood with the kerchief. 

“Didn’t think I would see you tonight,” he whispered once you two were completely alone.

“And I didn’t think I would see you like this tonight,” you replied in the same volume.

“What? More handsome?” 

You smiled, finally meeting his eyes. You didn’t expect them to be so sad, though.

Your heart skipped beats as he blinked. There was so much you wanted to tell him, so much you wanted to hear from him...

“I...” you tried to say the things you were thinking, but you didn’t find the right words. It was all too crowded in your mind, and suddenly your body expressed what you were feeling in the only way it could: you started to cry. 

It was quietly and discretely, but it was still crying. You wiped the tears with the back of your hand and sniffed, trying to make it look like less than what it truly was. 

“Hey,” he said, grabbing your hand and squeezing it tightly, “I’m okay.”

“I’m so sorry, George. So sorry,” you shook your head, “I was so stupid. I’m sorry.”

George looked at you, slightly furrowing his brows. He seemed hesitant and unsure, like he was fighting a battle in his head. What you didn’t know was that that battle wasn’t new to him and he had fought it many times before. 

But when George saw you wiping one more tear, he left all that hesitation behind and let go of his uncertainty. He sat up on the couch and wrapped his arms around you, pulling you as close to him as possible. Maybe you should have been more rational than him, maybe you should have told him to lay down again. But you didn’t do that. You hugged him back and at that moment you let out everything. 

You were completely vulnerable, as you always were around him, and broke down immediately, crying like never before. It was all too much for you. And even though you felt safe in his arms, you knew that war was far from ending and that you would be really lucky if the people you loved didn’t get hurt again.

George, on the other hand, felt grateful. He was happy to be hugging you again and to be feeling your soft skin against his, even if it was such a brief touch. He felt his worries fading away, his fears disappearing, the war being reduced to a headache. Your embrace was peaceful, warm and gentle. It was perfect. And it smelled really good, like home.

“Shh, I’m here,” he whispered while he slowly stroked your hair, still holding you strongly, “I’m okay.”

“I was so scared,” you said between sobs, against the clean part of his shirt, “I thought you were-”

“Shh, it’s okay.”

“I’m sorry, George.”

“It’s okay,” he repeated. 

“I should be comforting you. Not the other way around,” you let go of him and wiped your tears once again. 

“You are here with me. You are safe. Alive,” he said, looking in your eyes, “That’s comforting enough.”

You tried to give him a smile, but your chest felt too tight for that. Instead, you reached for his face and caressed his cheek, trying desperately to let him know how much you cared for him, how much you loved him. 

“Lay down,” you whispered, realizing he was still bleeding, “I’ll put a bandage on your ear.”

“You mean my non-existent ear?” George raised an eyebrow as he laid back on the couch. 

“You’ll have two non-existent ears if you keep teasing me,” you warned, already conjuring the stuff you would need for the wound dressing. 

George smiled. “I missed you.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You woke up the next morning sweating. You had a nightmare of which you couldn’t remember the exact details, but you could feel it had something to do with your parents. You rubbed your eyes and realized they were wet. Great, you had been crying in your sleep. 

You looked around noticing you were alone in Ginny’s room, which meant you were the last one to wake up. You didn’t understand why the girls had been up so early until you realized what day it was. You jumped from the bed and rushed to the bathroom to take a quick shower and get ready. It was Bill and Fleur’s wedding and you couldn’t be late. 

Fortunately, your father had told you about the wedding and you had packed a dress for the occasion. You hoped your parents would make it to the party, but you highly doubted it. 

Soon enough, you were walking down the stairs fully dressed up and entered the living room. There was no one there. You spun on your heels to go to the kitchen but stopped when you heard Ginny’s voice. 

“Zip me up, will you?”

You walked slowly to the door and looked at the kitchen’s interior, seeing Ginny and Harry in there. The girl had her dress unzipped on the back, that was facing the boy. He hesitantly walked up to her and started zipping it. 

You blushed when you realized how intimate that moment was. You were about to step back and stop creeping on them when you saw George coming in at the other side.

“’Morning,” he said, raising his cup of tea at them and completely ruining their moment. 

You sighed, but a chuckle slipped out of your mouth. Typical.

You had to do something, though. 

“Hey, George,” you greeted him as you entered the kitchen. “Oh, hey, Ginny. Harry,” you nodded at them, pretending you hadn’t seen them before. “Could you come with me, Georgie? I need your help.”

The younger twin narrowed his eyes at you but gave in, following you outside.

“Yes?” he asked once you were in the front yard, “What is it?”

“Nothing. I couldn’t let you get in their way,” you shook your head. 

He sighed deeply. “I should’ve known.”

“Probably,” you agreed, smiling.

Only at that moment George was able to actually look at you and take in what he was seeing. You looked absolutely beautiful. Like always! But this time was different. You were both older and you were basically two grown ups now. It had been a long time since he had last seen you. Your hair was slightly longer, he noticed in his mind. 

His eyes trailed down your entire figure until they curiously stopped on your left hand. Suddenly, they seemed sad, grey. 

“Is he coming?” he asked.  

You frowned. “Who?”

“Pete,” he pointed at your hand. You looked at it and saw the silver ring on your ring finger. A ring that your father had given you for your eighteenth birthday, but George didn’t know that. 

“No, he’s not,” you answered, feeling your throat tighten. “We’re not together anymore.”

Something shifted in George’s eyes and you couldn’t tell what it was. You felt your mouth slightly dry as he tucked his hands in his pockets.

“Oh,” he said, “What happened?”

“What you said it would. He hurt me,” your voice broke at the last sentence, although you weren’t going to cry. You cleared your throat, realizing the atmosphere around you two had suddenly become serious.

“I’m so sorry, Y/N.”

“Yeah... me too,” you nodded, “I shouldn’t have pushed you away like I did. You didn’t deserve that, you were just trying to protect me.”

“Maybe I was too invasive? You had the right to react the way you did. I could’ve been mistaken, since I was mainly acting out of...”

Jealousy. Acting out of jealousy. But George wasn’t going to admit that so easily. 

“Well, I didn’t really know how to deal with the distance,” he concluded.

“Me neither. I felt so lonely in that castle, George. You have no idea,” you breathed, “But no, you weren’t mistaken.”

George nodded, looking down at his feet. Was it too selfish to admit that he was slightly glad that you weren’t with Pete anymore? He felt guilty for it, but he couldn’t avoid it. He still remembered the letter you sent him talking about Pete for the first time. He remembered feeling helpless and lost, like he couldn’t do anything to stop it. He knew Pete, the charming Ravenclaw that every girl in Hogwarts had a crush on. Of course the boy would ask you out, he would be crazy if he didn’t. But George had been almost sure it would end up with your heart broken. Pete had a reputation and it looked like you were ignoring it. 

Now, seeing that he was right and it did end up with you being hurt, he felt guilty. Guilty because he could’ve done more to protect you. He could’ve ignored your angry letter and visited you when you went home for Christmas. He could’ve been there for you more. But no. He let his pride take over him and didn’t write to you again. 

“I’m sorry to hear that, Y/N.”

“Well, it’s over now. And I’m okay. Ginny was great, I don’t know how I would have carried on if it wasn’t for her.”

“Oh, I see,” George nodded, “That’s why suddenly you decided to help her?”

You chuckled. “The only way to have a friend is to be one.”

“Yeah,” he looked down again, “I should’ve had that in mind.”

“Stop, George,” you moved closer to him, “It wasn’t your fault.”

“I should’ve been there for you.”

“I pushed you away.”

“I should’ve known better.”

“You couldn’t.”

“I love you.”

You froze.

You had said you loved each other countless times before, but it sounded so different this time. You felt it was different. You felt it had more meaning behind it. 

Or were you overreading it? 

You didn’t care.

“I love you too,” you said, hoping he would feel the same thing you felt when you heard it from him. 

The sadness you had seen in his eyes minutes before was now gone. It was replaced by a sparkle you hadn’t seen in over a year, the same sparkle he had in his eyes when his pranks worked the way he wanted.

George slowly took your hand in his and started playing with your ring.

“I-”

“George! Over here! We could use some help!” Bill waved at his brother from across the yard. You both looked at him, realizing that the men were setting the tent for the wedding. 

“I should go there,” he sighed. “Or maybe I could use my injury to stay here,” he looked at you as if he had just had the most brilliant idea. 

“No,” you chuckled, letting go of his hand, “It wouldn’t be right, they need your help.”

“I knew you would never be the same again after becoming Head Girl,” he shook his head. 

“Hey!” you protested, “You didn’t even see me in action.”

“But I’d bet a hundred galleons that it was something like this,” he smiled, “Always playing by the book, never having fun...”

“I had my fun,” you shrugged it off.

“Sure.”

“I did!”

“Okay.”

“Weasley!”

“Don’t say it too loud, otherwise everyone will answer,” he smiled, “And I don’t believe you. I don’t think you had fun without me.”

“You are so entitled, aren’t you?” you shook your head in disbelief, but your smirk contradicted your line. “Go set the tent.”

“Will you still be here when I come back?” he asked, half-joking. 

“Always,” you replied truthfully.

********

Bonus Part

#george weasley #george weasley x reader #george weasley imagine #george weasley fanfiction #george weasley fanfic #george weasley fic #george weasley angst #george weasley fluff #fred weasley #harry potter imagine #harry potter fanfiction #harry potter imagines #hogwarts #gryffindor #slytherin #ravenclaw #hufflepuff #random tag #i'm stupid

[hphm-etched-engraved-everlasting]

1. Clara

Author’s Note/Table of Contents

For the first time since I was a first year, I felt scared stepping into Hogwarts.

September 1 should have been a day for every student to look forward to. After all, the prospect of learning more magic and catching up with friends in a hallowed castle that lived up to its reputation was exciting for any normal student. But I was not like most others; I was not a normal student at all. I was anything but normal, and it was no thanks to her.

As my sister and I disembarked from the Hogwarts Express together, both of us in our Hogwarts robes, I couldn't help but feel a little lightheaded to see the number of students chatting excitedly among themselves. It was almost as if none of the curses they've encountered had affected them in any way. I suppose that was understandable, since they all knew that eventually the curse-breakers would do something about the travesties that befell upon them. Still, they had no idea just what every hero had to endure. I didn't even feel heroic just by breaking curses so that Hogwarts could resume its normalcy.

At least it still seemed normal enough for my sister to be able to attend school at peace and ease.

"Firs' years! Firs' years this way!"

My ears perked up the minute I heard Hagrid's voice beckoning all the newcomers to the school towards the boats, and I grinned as I lead my sister along. She looked a little intimidated at the thought of leaving my side, even briefly, but she nodded bravely as she went with me to meet with my giant friend.

"Clara! Yeh doin' alrigh'?" he asked me the moment I approached him.

"Yeah. As well as I can be," I answered him with a forced smile. "This is my sister, by the way. Her name's Emily, but most people call her Em."

Hagrid nodded and beamed at her. "Well, when yeh got a sister like her, yeh'll do great things here!" he reassured her with a clap on the shoulder that almost knocked her over. "I'll take yeh to the boats, alrigh'? Yeh can meet the other firs' years there, an’ I'll take yeh to Hogwarts. Yeh'll see yer sister in the Great Hall."

Little Em nodded, but not before giving me a hug. "Take care, Clara."

"See you inside, Em."

As Hagrid ushered little Em away, I followed the rest of the crowd towards the carriages pulled by invisible beings. Or at least, at the time I thought they were invisible. What was pulling the carriages, anyway? It had to be something mysterious. I shook my head as I got into the first carriage I saw that wasn't completely occupied--and a moment later, a familiar magizoologist-in-the-making climbed in after me.

"Liz!" I greeted her with a grin. "Hey!"

Liz turned to me and smiled back serenely. "Hey, Clara. Thanks for your letters--they're a joy to read."

"Indeed! It's always a joy for me to keep regular correspondence with my friends. I'm just glad you had a good summer, Liz," I responded with a nod.

"Regular correspondence, huh? What about with me?" an all-too-familiar voice piped up, a huge grin on his face as he took a seat beside me.

"I wouldn't forget about you, Barnaby." I grinned back at him and kissed him on the cheek. "Not after our first date. I guess we have been writing...quite often."

Eventually, another familiar student made an appearance--Jae.

"Hey, detention buddy," he greeted me with a nod as well, taking a seat beside Liz. "Or should I say, no-longer-in-detention buddy?"

"Jae. Fancy seeing you here," I said, trying hard to keep a straight face, though I couldn't help but smile. Jae was very good company when I was spending quite a bit of my fifth year at Hogwarts in detention, working in the kitchens alongside the house elves. He was just as involved in the curse-breaking plan as I was back then.

"Likewise. I suppose you got it better than I, though. Pitts would be very happy to see me," Jae simply said with a grin.

"Oh, I doubt it. Unless you can make better sandwiches for us," I teased back with a laugh. "At least then Pitts would give you a good raise."

The four of us laughed a little, Barnaby's hand gently brushing mine as the carriage lurched forward and took us to the school. There was little I could do to stop the rush of heat blossoming in my face as I remembered our first date together. Though word about me having a crush made me feel so self-conscious, I decided to rub it in everyone's faces--even if things didn't exactly go as planned. And to think that he felt the same about me...well, if that wasn't a good start to our once-upon-a-time, what was?

Soon, we were greeted by the massive castle looming over us, the glow of the torch lights from within visible through their postage stamp windows. Most others would probably murmur in excitement or awe, but I felt none of those things within me. Instead, a lump of fear formed at my throat, nausea rising within me like hot lava prepared to spew out of a volcano. For so long, I was able to push the feeling of unease down because none of my questions had been answered. I had the curiosity hanging, but they were easily masked. Now that my curiosity has been satisfied, they left me with sleepless nights, tired eyes, and no way to hide my true emotions. I just didn't expect my questions to be answered that way.

I'd prefer remaining curious instead of knowing what it meant to live a nightmare.

Everyone eventually headed into the Great Hall, Barnaby's hand eventually brushing mine again but this time holding on to it, his calloused tough hand warm against my suddenly ice-cold one. It was all I could do to not slip away as I squeezed it once, interlocking my fingers with his under hopefully no watchful eye. No, wait, there was one. Percy Weasley walked by and noticed the two of us holding hands, giving no reaction whatsoever.

We all eventually parted ways, heading towards our respective house tables. As I started to make my way to the Gryffindor table, eager to meet up with Rowan, my eyes soon honed in on Tonks and Charlie waving me over at the front. I quickly joined them with a wave of my own, and Tonks did a little victory fist pump.

"Wotcher, Clara!" she greeted me. "Blimey, am I glad to see you!"

Charlie beamed at me as well. "Me too. Especially after how you 'disappeared' from Bill's party before graduation!"

"We didn't have a chance to ask you about it before everyone left for the summer holidays," Tonks piped in.

I chuckled and smiled at the two of them. "I'm very glad to see you both, too. But I can't tell you anything about my disappearance. I've been sworn to secrecy."

The same words I told Rowan last year before the summer holidays left my lips almost automatically. If this information was passed to the wrong hands, I would never forgive myself. Not that they would, given how much I trust my friends above anything. But I still had to watch my back for potential backstabbers. I just hoped there wasn't another Rakepick in the mix of all the kind faces.

"You do know who that was who crashed the party, though? Alastor Moody?" Tonks prompted.

"Mad-Eye, some people call him. At least, that's what my dad says," Charlie said, and I shrugged.

"He was a hero of the Wizarding War!" Tonks regaled. "He was responsible for sending countless Death Eaters to Azkaban. He's rather a big deal, Clara."

Sounds just like the Auror Tonks would be looking up to. After all, she did want to become an Auror herself when she grew up, and I knew she'd be a great one. "I know that now. I see you're a huge fan of his, Tonks," I laughed.

"Hey! Anyone who's ever thought of becoming an Auror would be a fan of Mad-Eye Moody!" Tonks exclaimed with a huge grin on her face.

Just then, Rowan came over, waving to the few of us as well. "Hi! How were everyone's summer holidays?"

I had never been more relieved to see Rowan. She's been with me since the very beginning, before I stepped foot in Hogwarts. Now I was more than honoured to call her my closest friend at school. After all, she helped me pull through with my studies while I was otherwise breaking curses at the school.

"Not bad, actually. I spent my summer doing a lot of reading about--"

"Ooh, me too!" Rowan exclaimed, cutting Charlie off. I almost laughed; reading was one thing Rowan loved to do back home on her family tree farm.

"I was going to say I read a lot about the Romanian Dragon Sanctuary," Charlie recovered slowly.

Now the grin slipped off from Rowan's face. "Oh. I...read about other stuff."

"I'm just happy to be back at Hogwarts with minimal bumps and bruises," Tonks chipped in with a light shrug.

"Bumps and bruises?" I asked. "What were you up to, Tonks?"

"Nothing exciting. But you know me. I get banged up just dismounting my broom," Tonks responded.

That was pretty fair. Clumsiness was one of Tonks' weaknesses, and I hoped it wouldn't completely hinder her chances at becoming an Auror.

"What about you, Clara?" Rowan asked, turning to me. "I mean, I got your letters. You did have a rough end of the school year, too. What was on your mind?"

While Rowan and I did have regular correspondence over the summer along with the rest of my friends, I could only tell her everything happening to me on the surface. I was scared of information falling into the wrong hands--especially after what Mad-Eye Moody told me last year that made me worried out of my mind. Still, she did ask me a fair question. My mind wandered to my sister, who I know would be standing outside the Great Hall right now while Professor McGonagall attended to other matters before the Sorting.

Little Em, who I held so dear with my life--just as much as I did my friends and family. Perhaps she and I weren't as close as Jacob and I, but she was a part of my family, after all. I felt obligated to keep her safe from all the dangers around us--especially her.

Her. She was all I could think of over the summer. How she lead me on, made me trust her before betraying me by saying she betrayed my brother first. Using me for her gain was just...low. And using my friends like petty useless trinkets--I couldn't fathom the limits anger could reach.

"I thought mostly of Rakepick," I confessed.

The mere mention of her name made the atmosphere more tense.

"I couldn't stop thinking about what she did, not just to me, but my brother before me, and now my friends," I said in a quiet voice, so that no one but the three heard me. "How she lead us all on, convincing us that she was helping us when she only wanted us for her operation. To spy on us for our adversaries. And now that we're back, I can't help but think about what she'll do next, and what I could do to stop her. After all, we are one Cursed Vault away from ultimate peace at Hogwarts. Whatever's in the last Vault must be powerful, and it cannot fall into the wrong hands."

Rowan's jaw became very set the moment she heard this. "Indeed. Rakepick's hands would definitely be the wrong hands. So what would you do about this? After all, you did mention that everything will change--not to mention, you were so busy curse breaking last year, we didn't have much of a chance to bond."

"I guess time will tell."

I couldn't say more.

Next moment, the first years were filing in, Professor McGonagall leading the way as she carried the Sorting Hat and stool to the front, and I caught a glimpse of my sister mixed with the rest as I took my seat beside Rowan at the Gryffindor table. Little Em didn't look so little among the first years, but she was still little to me, and probably most vulnerable if Rakepick somehow knew about her.

If something happened to her, I would never forgive myself.

I clenched my fist under the table as I watched the Sorting unfold, hoping and praying that whatever house little Em gets Sorted into, she would be safe and protected.

#here's chapter 1 #yippee #hphm clara lin #hphm em lin #hogwarts mystery #etched engraved everlasting #hphm spoilers #how was your summer #year 6 retell #year 6 spoilers

[drelmurn]

Narcissa

Narcissa. Sweet little Marcy, youngest of three, little Narcissa Black who is not really a Black at all. Sweet little Marcy, youngest daughter of Druella Black of Druella Rosier who is not really Cygnus Black’s daughter, whose father is unknown, not in the sense that he is not talked about but in the sense that everyone knew that Druella had not been in so much as the same building for at least three years when Narcissa Black was born. Little Marcy Black whose father is unknown, not in the sense that everyone knows Druella had a gentleman caller but in the sense that everyone knows that she did not, in the sense that everyone knows that Pollux and Irma Black had cursed their daughter in law such that she would feel pain in the presence of anyone other than her husband in an attempt to procure more grandchildren.

Sweet little Narcissa, whose name might pass at a glance if you are not as familiar with constellations as the Black family is.

Sweet little Marcy who does not meet either of her sisters until she is sent to school. Sweet little Marcy who only meet her father when her mother dies during her first school year. Sweet little Marcy who does not so much fall in love with Lucius Malfoy as fall in desperation with him, into protection from a family that sees her very existence as an affront, from a family that would as gladly kill her as they would kill the mudbloods they both hate.

Sweet little Marcy who only loves her husband after she is safe, who loves him for his awkwardness, who loves him for the way he is so excited to share everything with her, for the way they can sit, heads tilted together and talk, for the way that he stands by her side against the world as her name is dragged into the mud with her sisters - the mudblood lover and the lunatic.

(She admits to him, at night, when they’re curled together under the blankets like the children just out of school that they are right now, though Lucius has found a job at the ministry even though he’d rather be a Healer, and Narcissa has finally figured out how to host a garden party from Lucius’s mother, that she’s scared of learning about who her father is.

I wonder, she says, if he might be a muggle. If I am no better than the people I have been taught to hate.

And Lucius says, If you are then we’ll leave. We’ll go somewhere else and change our names and be other people. We’ll forget about this war.

Lucius already had the darkmark. Narcissa remember the day he got it, remembers the way he’d stumbled into the common room, pale and sweating, clutching at his arm like a handful of other Slytherins as a group of older years guided them into the common room, laughing.

He’d told her, If I didn’t take it, he would have killed me. I couldn’t die. I had to be here for you.)

It is Narcissa who names her son Draco. The healer say that he will be the only child she will ever have. With Lucius there, Narcissa looks down at him, and breathing in the smell of the soap that St. Mungos used on all of its blankets, leaning into Lucius, she calls him Draco, my little dragon, my little star.

And he is not exactly a fuck you to the Black family, though in Many ways he is, but all Narcissa can think when she sees him is how small he is. And when Lucius holds him after they’ve returned home, his sleeve is rolled up enough that she can see the stark black of the darkmark against his skin, and Narcissa has to go and have a little cry, because this is the world she has brought her son into.

Their problems don’t end when the Dark Lord dies, the only change.

And Draco grows.

And Draco grows.

And Draco grows.

And Draco is going off to school. And Draco is meeting the boy who defeated the Dark Lord, and Draco is complaining about him in every letter, and Narcissa’s heart is in her mouth. 

Narcissa wants to tell Draco to stop antagonising Potter, because she remembers James Potter, five years younger and still a better fighter cornering her and looking at her with something that made her want to tremble with fear, remembers that though he never acts on that, that James Potter did plenty else.

Narcissa wants to tell Draco to keep antagonizing Potter if that’s what it takes to keep him away from his housemates because her son is in Slytherin, and some days all she can remember is Lucius stumbling into the common room looking like he was dying as older students’ laughter rings in her ears.

Ten years after the Dark Lord’s death, Lucius deems it safe enough to start to get rid of the cursed objects that the Dark Lord had . . . entrusted them with. And much as he hates him, Arthur Weasley is the best in the field at working with cursed objects. More so than Alastor Moody, more so than any of the so called Dark families, more so than Dumbledor, for all of his fame, and Lucius has heard him lecturing his children enough that he thinks he can trust them to give anything cursed to their father.

It goes wrong. It all goes wrong. People are getting petrified once again, and Narcissa is terrified for her son, for her little dragon. She argues with Lucius when he refuses to pull Draco out of school. He is pale and he’s shaking nearly as much as he had been when he came back to the common room with the darkmark, but he stands firm in his refusal to bring Draco home.

Narcissa can’t sleep. She can barely eat. Draco doesn’t even come home for Christmas.

It gets bad enough that, with Lucius’s begging, she takes the Draught of the Living Dead. It’s not . . . it’s not a good solution. It’s a very risky one, but the Healer they brought in nd swore to secrecy said that if she didn’t start taking care of herself, she wouldn’ last much longer.

She wakes slowly, to Lucius clutching her hand. He isn’t looking that well either, but then he’d always done better when he had someone to fuss about, and a coma patient isn’t very conducive to fussing. He manages to tell her that Draco is safe, that Potter had killed - had killed something after the youngest Weasley went missing, and that Draco is safe, before he breaks out crying. It takes a lot of effort for Narcissa to move between the coma and her fasting prior, but she slowly and surely manages to gather him up and hold him close.

They do not try to get rid of the cursed items again.

And third year there was a man who was probably not a mass murderer on the loose, but Narcissa doesn’t hold her breath. Narcissa doesn’t know what her cousin is now, but she remembers his temper. Narcissa Malfoy who was never a Black remembers that he was just as bad as James Potter, except maybe that he never cornered her that he didn’t taunt her for her name even though even Andromeda who learned to love muggles had.

(Narcissa Malfoy who was never a Black remembers that he was just as bad as James Potter, except maybe that he never cornered her that he didn’t taunt her for her name even though even Andromeda who learned to love muggles had.

Narcissa Malfoy who was never a Black remembers - not how Sirius who always was and always will be a Black stormed out of the Black Townhouse. She was not there. She doesn’t know the rhythm of his words, the tenor of his arguments. Narcissa doesn’t know how James Potter’s parents welcomed him, doesn’t know if he would have come to marry James Potter if James Potter had not married Lily Evans first, does not know if her cousin not a cousin would have come to marry them both because married or not Narcissa Malfoy remembers the Sirius Black leaned on James Potter’s shoulder in his brand new Hit Wizard robes at their graduation, Narcissa Malfoy remembers the way Lily Potter walked boldly into the Malfoy ball not on the arm of her husband but on the arm of his best fried.

If it wouldn’t be unbelievable coming from someone everyone knew was a Death Eater, Narcissa would have pushed her husband to  defend him, when he was arrested and not.

Narcissa Malfoy wonders - if Lucius had not gone out that one Hogsmead weekend, if Lucius had not been cornered and compelled by the older students, if, if if he had avoided getting caught in this trap of Dark and Light and prejudices that neither he nor Narcissa truly believe in, if-

Narcissa Malfoy wonders if she could have been the one he ran to. She would have done a lot more to help others escape the blackhole gravity of the Black family.)

But Sirius Black was almost as bad as James Potter, and Narcissa remembers how much he hated his family and hopes desperately he doesn’t hate her son.

Sirius Black does not hate her son, or at least he does not hate him enough to go out of his way.

The dementors are called off after a year and she breathes a sigh of relief.

Fourth year is blissfully safe, right up until the end, when Lucius doubles over during dinner, clutching his arm in a familiar manner, and Narcissa feels fear settling in her gut like a stone. Their eyes meet, then Lucius is standing and moving.

“Go to the tournament,” he tells her because if the Dark Lord is back, it can only be because of Potter.

Draco . . . Draco does not perhaps know exactly why Narcissa is there. Draco has never seen his mother at Hogwarts before.

Narcissa does not like to think about Hogwarts. To her, Hogwarts is full of corners she was cornered in, common rooms for people she has little in common with. Hogwarts is meeting your sisters for the first time and being told you are unworthy, unknown.

Narcissa is at Hogwarts, and when Draco sees her there, he goes bright for one moment, and he goes scared the next because Narcissa does not go to Hogwarts for all that she insisted he should.

They’ve only just hugged when Potter arrives, bringing a dead body that makes Narcissa clutch her child closer. She does not bring him home with her.

The Dark Lord is there when she gets home, and he croons, “Narcissa, lovely to see you once again. So sad to hear about your sister,” like he doesn’t know that Bellatrix hates Narcissa, like he hasn’t forced them into the same room for his own entertainment before.

Fifth year is a nightmare of its own for the man living in her guest bedrooms, using her towels and her bedsheets and her dishes and her silverware and eating her food. But st least Draco is safe. Draco is safe. Draco is safe.

He writes to her, uncertain of what to do under Umbridge, but he is safe.

Draco is safe until he comes home for the summer, and the Dark Lord takes an interest in him.

There are no older student dragging a group off to get marked. Draco gets his darkmark in Narcissa’s solar, the Dark Lord sitting on her favorite rocking chair under one of her favorite blankets.

Narcissa looks at her house and knows that should the war ever end, she won’t be able to live here.

Narcissa does what she has to do.

Draco’s sixth year is a nightmare.

Draco’s seventh year . . .

Potter is breathing when Narcissa checks. Potter is so young.

“Is he alive?” the Dark Lord demands, but she’s never cared about him anyways.

Draco is alive. Draco is alive alive alive-

Lucius helps hunt down the other Death Eaters after the war. It was always Nacrissa and Lucius against the world. Still, Narcissa wonders how many of them were like Lucius. She wonders how many of them were like Draco.

And they do move after the war. Well, move is a strong word for what they do.

Narcissa and Lucius go to the house Lucius’s parent lived in for the last years of their life with only the clothes on their back, and they burn those when they get there. There are clothes enough, even if they are old fashioned.

They get a grandchild.

Andromeda shows up one day without explanation.

Narcissa did not grow up with her, but she’d watched the way Andy took her tea for months before she approached her, and she watched for years after she’d been rejected. Andy is surprised. They sit in silence.

After the first time Andy brings her grandson over, and they watch him play as they talk.

“I know who your father was,” Andy says when Teddy is five. “Father didn’t stop us from seeing Mother until you were around three.”

“Was he a pureblood? A halfblood?” Narcissa asks. Or perhaps it is not Narcissa. Perhaps it is Marcy, sweet Marcy, who is still unsure of her place in the world for all that she is content with what she has made of her life.

“. . . no.”

“Good.”

(Narcissa tell Lucius this that night. They’re curled together under the covers again, and in the darkness, breathing together Narcissa can almost believe that they’re young again.

“Do you want to leave?” Lucius asks, tipping his head so their foreheads are touching, and holding her hands. “I promised you we could.”

Narcissa thinks of Draco and his wife and his son. She thinks of Andy and Teddy. It’s not much, but . . .

“No. I think I want to stay.”

“Alright. Then we’ll stay.”)

()

. . . I don't know.

Find me on AO3 at Drel_Murn

I am also writing Sparks At My Fingertips in the Harry Potter fandom (though it's kind of low in my priority queue).

#hogwarts #Harry Potter #narcissa malfoy #draco malfoy #fanfiction #lucius malfoy #character study #original post