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sebastianswallows · 11 months

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A new family — Chapter 4

— PAIRING: dark!Ominis Gaunt x F!MC

— SYNOPSIS: Ominis gets tired of his family and how miserable life is with them after he graduates. So he follows Sebastian's example for once, and kills them in cold blood. Now that he has the mansion to himself, he discovers he would still like to have a family, but one of his own making.

— WARNINGS: a lot of angst and just lonely and pining and heartbroken Ominis but not for long

— WORDCOUNT: 1.8k

— TAGLIST: @littletealight @skarathewitch @myrachondria @mrimperio @ssnapsaurus @tarotwitchy-main @hufflepuff-16

“Have you read this one yet?”

“Not yet. You said it’s good?”

“I think so, but I don’t know how it compares to Hereward.”

“He was a middling potioneer at best. He is more famous for his father than his own work. What do you want to have for dinner?”

“Anything is fine.”

Her hand slid on top of his as they lay together on her bed, books spread out between them, their hair tousled on the pillows. Outside, it was still raining. The sun had nearly set, the sky was covered in clouds, and they hadn’t yet lit a lamp. For Ominis, it didn’t make a difference.

He flipped through one of the books without even paying attention to what he picked up, and sightlessly read aloud to her the passages that made him chuckle. The older the book, generally speaking, the more strange and dangerous its instructions were.

“Yes, just cut that claw off at the root from a sleeping dragon, I’m certain nothing bad could happen. To think they gave this instruction to third years in the 1640s…”

“Do they list any evasive manoeuvres?” she asked with a grin.

“I don’t think so, although I can feel something is scribbled on the side… Perhaps a cautionary ‘do not attempt alone’.”

What a strange experience, to be read to in the dark… It was comforting and intimate in a way she’d never experienced before. It made her think of all those school nights when Ominis would be studying on his own, and she’d be off on some quest or scouring through a goblin camp or doing away with Ashwinders using the curses Sebastian taught her. It seemed now like so much time lost… If she had spent more time with him instead, would it have been a comfort to him? Would things had ended up differently?

As Ominis kept reading, she rolled to her side and rested her head against his arm. He paused, but only for a moment, and then went on.

They decided, almost wordlessly, to do together the things they hadn’t done before. After a few more days of rain, they went to the forest looking for mushrooms, something Ominis could not safely do until then. They went on shopping trips to Diagon and Knockturn Alley and spent the whole day there — after a brief stop to Gringotts for him to relieve his family vault of a few more Galleons — and treated themselves to new robes and tailored clothes, and ingredients so they could try out some of the more dangerous potions they could never do at Hogwarts.

At the end of this escapade, she went to her home and packed up a few more things to take back to the mansion. Ominis waited for her with an undying smug smile — in the end, she would still be with him come winter.

“Have you considered staying, perhaps, even longer?” he asked with a casual air as they had tea at a little table next door to Scribbulus.

“You mean over Christmas and New Year’s?”

“Yes,” said Ominis at length, “and maybe longer than that?”

“Your generosity knows no bounds,” she grinned. “Why do you ask?”

“Just tell me. Yes or no?”

He kept a smile on his face, but his brow was tense. Whatever confidence he’d had was clearly dwindling at her refusal to give him a straight answer.

“What are you really asking me, Ominis?” she said with a quiet lean forward and a teasing tone.

“Only what I said…”

She didn’t believe him, but couldn’t stop her grin.

In the end, she agreed to stay with him until January.

“After that, I really must go. I’ve put off looking for employment long enough.”

“There’s nothing to say you can’t remain with me and work.”

“Ominis…”

“And if you mention taking advantage of my so-called generosity one more time, I shall lock you in.”

“Ominis!” she laughed, but a part of her felt he was serious.

“I meant it,” he said more quietly. “I need you. I… I need you, to be happy.”

Her laughter died and she was left gazing at him softly, in silence. She wasn’t used to such openness from him… He was always the quiet one, closed off and elusive, a mystery in many ways, just like his family. And it was in part because of his family that she never considered Ominis as… more. More than a friend. The Gaunts would never have approved of her, and so every early flash of infatuation died until it ceased to flare at all. Of course, she had never imagined the drastic measured he would take to free himself from them… She’d be lying if she said she wasn’t impressed. Between him and Sebastian, perhaps she had an unhealthy interest in homicidal boys.

Slowly, she reached across the table and covered his hand as it still held onto a teacup — an innocent and innocuous one, this time — and searched inside herself.

“It’s a difficult thing to imagine,” she said, “to be the one that makes you happy…”

“I don’t mean it as an imposition,” he said hastily, “not like some… some duty.”

“Still, it’s not what… what I…”

“Not what you had planned for your life?” he asked coolly, leaning back. He slid his hand from underneath hers and picked the cup with the other one for a sip.

“I don’t mean it like that, but… I suppose I don’t know yet what I want from life.”

“But enough to know it isn’t me, isn’t that so?”

“No,” she said with a faint laugh, “not even that much.”

Ominis nodded, but he seemed somewhat at peace, that or the fight had gone out of him at her utter lack of enthusiasm for his roundabout courtship. Still, it hadn’t been an outright rejection, at least not yet…

But it made the rest of their time together a bit more strained. She could feel his attention cast down on her whenever they were together — and perhaps it had always been so, but she only just now noticed — and their silences together grew more sad, more lonely, more discouraged.

Strangely, Ominis became a bit more daring too, as if he had nothing left to lose.

He showed her the mansion’s dungeons, finally, after months of her being there. She’d never asked to see it, but she had learned that it was held under lock and key. The only thing Ominis had told her about it was that it existed. It was a grey and arched expanse with cells on either side, and instruments the sort of which she’d only seen in the DADA class at Hogwarts — iron maidens, racks, heretic forks, and rows and rows of shackles along one of its walls.

“Don’t worry,” said Ominis, “it hasn’t been used in generations. I think. It should be adequately sterile by now.”

It did little to assuage her apprehensions, as the instruments and parts of the floor were still splattered with stains.

“Who were they used on?”

“I never asked.”

Ominis was more daring in asking for what he really wanted, too. Long picnics at the edge of the forest, dragging on until the owls and bats flew overhead and the wolves began to howl. Reading sessions of curse books in her bedroom until midnight with the lamps turned dim. They purchased a gramophone together, a muggle device his parents never would have abided, and played the latest symphonies out of its large flower-shaped cone.

And, lastly, he told her exactly what how he killed his family, and what he did with them… She was only partially surprised, but mostly secretly in awe at his daring and creativity.

He was expecting her to leave almost any day, and took advantage of the time she gave him. She gladly let him do it. And, from sheer cowardice, never addressed his fears — never told him that she felt things she hadn’t felt in years, and simply didn’t know what to do with them, especially in his presence, now, when she was really beginning to know him. Instead of seeing the polite Ominis, the aristocrat, the reluctant heir, the burgeoning dark wizard, she delved into his wants, his needs, his fears, and had found in him very much a kindred spirit.

She did, however, plan to leave — more for his sake than her own. Ominis needed someone who could dedicate their life to him, their freedom, and put aside their sense of self. He also needed a gentle soul who could be a good influence to him. And she was the furthest thing from that…

As the holidays approached, along with her implied departure, they gradually grew more distant. Even when they had dinner, even when they went on walks, or when they danced together by the fireplace to the wailing gramophone, there were silences between them that otherwise would not have been.

She resolved to buy him something, like a consolation gift — something as much for Christmas as for a ‘good-bye’ — and slipped out of the house one day in mid December via floo. There was nothing that someone could give to a boy who had everything — all the luxury, the books, the clothes, and all those fragrant roses that were now buried in snow — but she felt that he uniquely missed a sense of normalcy. He’d probably never celebrated a proper Christmas with his family, only the ones at Hogwarts, and that time must’ve been bitter for him. Seeing so many other classmates going happily back home, coming back with charming little presents and fond stories… She wondered if being around Anne and Sebastian was easier, as they didn’t have much of a home to go back to either.

It was, of course, pointless to speculate, especially when she had a mission: find him a worthy present.

Three hours later, she returned with a prettily wrapped package in brilliant green. The sun was just setting and coloured the sky pink, colouring the drawing room through the wide glass panes. Aside from the flash she made as she arrived, the house was eerily silent. She was pleased with this, of course, as it kept her journey secret. Ominis must have still been in the library where she left him, that or he’d gone looking for her… She meant to hide the package before she returned to him, slip it on some high shelf or some place out of reach, where even his wand wouldn’t detect it, but then she heard footsteps coming from the foyer… She only had enough time to tuck it behind her back.

But the steps were heavy, angry-sounding, and made by large boots. A visitor, at that hour? And uninvited too… She frowned and undid her cloak to lay it on an armchair, ready to confront whoever it was, when the stranger opened the door to the drawing room and walked in.

He stopped in his tracks for a moment, looking just as surprised to see her as she was to see him. She recognised him from the pictures that still littered the mansion: Marvolo Gaunt.

#Ominis Gaunt #hl #Ominis Gaunt fanfiction #ominis gaunt imagine #Hogwarts Legacy imagine #Ominis Gaunt x Reader #Ominis Gaunt x MC #Hogwarts Legacy MC #sswallow;made a thing #sswallow;fanfics #sswallow;a new family

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artemisia-black · 6 months

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Going to ask one from your lesser known works: The heavy Harris tweed of his jacket covered the monogrammed letters that sat above his heart.

A.R.P

He had never learned what they stood for. He had never cared to discover the man’s name. Instead, all he cared for was the hungry gleam in his eye, promptly followed by fear as he casually asked if Tom would care for a whisky in the privacy of his suite.

Tom had agreed with feigned naivety; why else did he spend his day sitting in that hotel lobby nursing his cup of tea?

And he had no doubt that A.R.P would never report that he had later awoken on the floor of the suite’s living room with all his possessions gone.

However, the leather loafers, which had once felt like butter against his skin, now blistered as they absorbed the heat of the pavement.

But it would take more than mild discomfort to make him turn back.

He required a notebook and had been forced to procure one from muggles. This was partly because the Hogwarts Fund for Orphans only provided five notebooks per academic year. But it was mainly because he would not risk using the Imperius on the shop assistant at Scribbulus’s Writing Implements. He wouldn’t risk losing his prefect’s badge and opportunity to one day teach at Hogwarts, for such a trifle.

Reaching Vauxhall bridge he paused to fix the bottom of his trousers, the pavement searing through the material as he knelt, carefully tucking the edges so they sat elegantly against the top of his shoes. And looking out across the river, Tom savoured the cool breeze coming off the water, the acrid smell of industrial fluids and the earthy tang of silt filling his nostrils.

London had always held a fascination for him; its heady mix of decay and opulence, squalor and splendour spoke to something deep inside him. And he spent several moments hypnotised by how the golden sunlight danced on the surface of the opaque, brown water of the Thames.

The chimes of Big Ben echoed along the river, dispelled his brief reverie, and hauling himself to his feet, he continued on.

Thank you - this fic got very little engagement and I have writer's block anyway, so I did sort of give up on it (although I may put out my chapter where Tom interacts with the Blacks).

So I wanted to convey several things in this opening section.

One- how charming Tom is and how socially aware he can be. He knows how to target people and also knows that they won't ever dare report the robbery.

Two- how little he has materially. I always envision the orphanage giving him the bare minimum. It's a very conservative British view that the poor/needy should only get the necessities and that indulgence and comfort are reserved for some of the middle class and all of the upper class. He has one set of (stolen) clothes, and they aren't appropriate for the weather despite their fineness. This also demonstrates his lack of social capital- that he wears Tweed during the summer. I also chose Tweed because it's a fabric still rooted in tradition, and it symbolises Slytherin values in a lot of ways (expensive, traditional etc). And this attitude of providing the bare minimum also extends to the wizarding world, which only provides him with the notebooks necessary to do his work and nothing more.

Third- following on from that, it's impossible to not explore class when writing about someone growing up in Britain- especially during the war when rationing was in full swing. Tom has chosen to procure his diary from the muggle world because he is aware of his tenuous position within wizarding society and how he needs to maintain his reputation if he has any hope of success post-Hogwarts. This is a contrast to characters such as James and Sirius, whose shoddy behavioural record is IMO rooted in the privilege that comes with their wealth and good names.

I'm actually really proud of this line:

"London had always held a fascination for him; its heady mix of decay and opulence, squalor and splendour spoke to something deep inside him..."

This is London summed up, billion-pound skyscrapers looming over social housing. And it also symbolises how adult Tom lives in his family's decaying manor, and how he moves in with the Malfoys who keep the prisoners (and blood/violence) under the drawing-room floor.

#tom riddle #voldemort #lovely fandom friends

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amissafide · 4 months

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who: emmeline & open where: Outside of Scribbulus Writing Instruments, Diagon Alley

It had been days since she'd last been back in her flat in Knockturn Alley. Even now she only stood outside of Scribbulus Writing Instruments, staring at the path leading down to the other alley. One could have mistaken her for someone unsure as to whether they wanted to enter Gringott's or browse the store instead. Truthfully, Emmeline always had an open mind when it came to writing instruments, appreciating parchment just as much as new ink or a quill to replace her old ones. A part of her wanted to enter, another wondered if it was time to finally drop by her old, no, current home.

Steps nearing caused her to finally turn away. Perhaps it was that old inner need not to be caught in something she considered a private matter of sorts, perhaps it was simply curiosity. Time would tell. With a somewhat polite smile she whirled around, leaving Knockturn Alley behind for the moment. Out of sight, out of mind.

Words slipped out, idle chatter having gotten just that much easier over the years. "I believe they have a rather nice sale on ink and quills. Didn't mean to block the path but I can't help see the value in quills when the ministry presents one with more writing work than any other place." Small talk had become a companion behind which to duck whenever it was necessary.

#the journey to find the path that mattered;; threads #riddikulus;starter #open;; 001

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bridgertonbabe · 2 years

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Bridgerton Drabble - Harry Potter AU Edition #3

“Alright, let’s divide and conquer.” Violet addressed the gathered group before her as everyone finished off their ice creams. “Daphne I’ll take you to Ollivanders, Flourish and Blotts, and then Madam Malkin’s to get your robes fitted-”

“And the Owl Emporium, mum! You promised I could get an owl just like they all did!” Daphne reminded her, gesturing to her three older brothers.

“Of course, of course.” Violet stroked her hair assuringly. “Now I think it’s best if Eloise, Francesca, and Hyacinth all stay with me,”

“Oh but mum!” Eloise whined. “I don’t want to trail Daphne round all day long!”

“Hey!” Daphne cried out.

“Eloise you’re coming with us whether you like it or not, seeing as you’ll be in your sister’s shoes in two years time.” Violet told her.

“Unless you turn out to be a squib.”

“MUM!” Eloise exclaimed.

“Colin, don’t be mean to your sister.” Edmund scolded his son. “You’re not a squib, honey.” he then said to his second eldest daughter and rubbed her arm consolingly.

“Moving on,” Violet sighed, “Edmund if you could take Sophie and Ben to Madam Malkin’s first to have their new robes fitted, then I think you both needed new quills?” she checked and Sophie and Benedict nodded.

“And then to Amanuensis?” Edmund guessed.

“Can we go Scribbulus instead?” Benedict asked. “Their stationary stuff’s better.”

“Whatever you want, son.” Edmund patted him on the back.

“Right, then Anthony if you could take Colin to Potage’s and get him a new cauldron, seeing as he managed to melt his last year.” Violet raised an eyebrow.

“It was an accident, I swear!” Colin insisted. “Tell her, Soph!”

Sophie remained tight-lipped and kept her head down, not wanting to lie to Violet Bridgerton’s face.

“If you could also go to Slug and Jiggers and fetch everyone’s potions supplies for the next year - here’s the list, dear.” Violet handed Anthony over the potion shopping list as well as a bag of galleons to cover the cost. “And then after you can take Colin and Gregory to Weasleys’ Wizard Wheezes.”

“Yippee!” Gregory cheered and Anthony allowed his kid brother to clamber onto his back as he stood up.

“And then let’s all meet by Gringotts when we’re done, okay? Everyone ready to go?”

There was an affirmative response before the Bridgertons broke up into their respective groups and went off in different directions, with Benedict going with his father and Sophie to Madam Malkin’s first.

“This one’s shot up yet again,” Edmund cheerfully informed the shop assistant and clapped Benedict on the back, “I swear he has a growth spurt every time we pick him up from Kings Cross. And then Sophie here needs a new set after she almost went up in flames last year.”

The incident in question had occurred in the same Potions lesson where Colin managed to melt his cauldron. Fortunately Phillip had doused Sophie with a water spell before the flames could reach her skin, but the same couldn’t be said for her school robes which got the brunt of the sudden wild fire that had somehow been started at their desk. When Benedict had seen Sophie later on that day with her burnt robes still smoldering he nearly burst a blood vessel and admonished his brother, who alongside Michael had already been told off by Professor Slughorn, Professor Sprout, Professor Danbury, Anthony, and Kate Sharma for their reckless tomfoolery and endangerment of their classmates.

Once they had been fitted for their new robes they stopped by Scribbulus Writing Instruments and picked up their new quills that Benedict had recommended to Sophie.

“Right, and then I think someone wanted to spend their birthday money on the latest Firebolt?” Edmund turned to his son after they left the stationary shop.

Benedict had been saving his money up all year in order to be able to purchase the newly released broomstick and had talked about nothing else in his excitement ahead of the trip to Diagon Alley. He gave his father an eager grin but just before they could take a step in the direction of the Quidditch Supplies shop, a little figure ran into their midsts and crashed into Edmund’s legs.

“Daddy!” Hyacinth cried out, hugging him tightly.

“Sweetheart!” Edmund gasped and picked his youngest up. “What are you doing here?”

“I wanna go to Sugarplum’s!” she cheered and pointed in the direction of the pink painted sweet shop not too far from them.

“But where’s mummy, sweetheart? Is she with you?”

“No?” Hyacinth replied, cocking her head in puzzlement, wondering what her mum’s whereabouts had anything to do with her wanting to go to Sugarplum’s.

“Oh dear.” Edmund sighed, realising his wife would no doubt be panicking once she noticed her three year old had run off. “Well we’d better go find her to let her know you’re alright.” He then turned to Benedict and Sophie and passed over a small bag of money. “I was meant to pick up some food for the owls if you don’t mind swinging by there first? I’ll come find you there, alright?”

“Sure thing, dad.” Benedict smiled, unfazed by the slight change in plan seeing as reuniting Hyacinth with their mother was the priority.

With Edmund and Hyacinth gone, Benedict and Sophie traipsed to Eeylops Owl Emporium, grabbing a sack of owl food as well as several bags of treats that Benedict paid for. As he packed away his purchases in the muggle shopping trolley bag his parents found very useful to cart around the wizarding shopping district, Benedict spotted Sophie admiring some of the owls scattered around the store.

He pulled up beside her and watched as she interacted with a particularly squat and small owl, who hooted and hopped along it’s branch and nuzzled against the finger she held out to it. When Sophie moved her finger to the left to get the little owl to bounce back along the branch, the little bird took a wobble and actually fell from it’s perch. Sophie gasped but Benedict darted a hand out to save the little owl from falling flat on it’s face.

“Oh no, I’m so sorry!” Sophie apologised to the little owl and stroked it’s head as Benedict held it. “I didn’t mean to disorient you!”

Benedict found it sweet how concerned she was with the bumbling little owl as she took it from him and cradled it in her own hands.

“Doesn’t take a lot.” grunted a nearby shop assistant. “That one’s absolutely useless.”

“Surely not. It’s still young.” Sophie cooed as she gazed down into the owl’s big bright eyes.

“Looks young but that’s a fully grown one for it’s kind.” the shop assistant informed her. “Pretty sure it’s the runt of it’s brood. She can’t fly for too long and she can barely hold a post-it note.”

“Doesn’t mean she’s useless.” Sophie defended the little creature.

“Oh yeah? Then what else would you have her do?” the apathetic shop assistant snorted.

“Well maybe she needs a little more training than other owls.” Sophie suggested. “I don’t see any reason to just give up on her and write her off altogether.”

“Trust me, I’ve worked here seven years now, and I know a dud when I see a dud.” the shop assistant said. “The most useful thing she could do is feed herself to one of the cats next door.”

“That’s a bit harsh.” Benedict replied as Sophie’s face fell in horror.

“Harsh but true. We’ll probably have to cull her anyway, seeing as she’s taking up room and no one’s remotely interested in her.” the shop assistant shrugged before turning away to help another customer.

“That’s not fair. That’s so not fair.” Sophie murmured as she stroked the owl’s head, with the little bird giving a hoot of appreciation.

“Why don’t you take her?” Benedict quietly suggested.

“What?” Sophie’s eyes widened, almost resembling the owl in her hands who also peered up at Benedict curiously, almost as if she understood what he had said.

“Well you could do with an owl.” he pointed out.

“Not really.” she shook her head solemnly. “It’s not like I have anyone to write to.”

“Of course you do!” he argued with an encouraging tone. “Mum and dad would love to write and hear back from you! Eloise can’t get enough of writing letters to anyone who will respond to her, and Frannie would love to write to you too! And then after he leaves at the end of this year Anthony will be another person you can correspond with. And Gregory and Hyacinth could send you drawings and cards all the time!”

“I guess.” Sophie gave a small shrug in an equally small voice. “But he said she can barely fly or carry anything.” she noted and inclined her head towards the surly shop assistant.

“Well of course he would say that. His attitude stinks as much as his body odour does.” Benedict muttered, prompting a snort out of Sophie who immediately clapped a hand over her mouth in embarrassment. “What she needs is someone who has the patience to train her, like you said, and I can’t think of anyone better to take the time to build her up than you, Soph.” he enthused. “You’re not the type to give up on anyone! I mean, hell, you’ve been Colin’s friend for two whole years when most other people would have thrown in the towel after a single week!”

“Benedict.” she laughed in a poor attempt to scold him for mocking his brother.

“I am serious though. You should take her.”

“I don’t have much money left.” Sophie bit her lip. “I wouldn’t be able to afford her.”

“Considering they’ve already got her on the chopping block, I’m sure they’d be happy to sell her off for cheap.” Benedict shrugged. “Watch. Hey!” he then called out to the shop assistant who had spoken to them earlier. “How much for the little one?” he enquired and motioned to the owl still cradled in Sophie’s hands.

“That thing?” the shop assistant spluttered. “You want to buy that thing?”

“Yes.” Sophie firmly replied, no longer able to tolerate his dismissive attitude towards the stout little owl she held.

“Honestly? You can have it for free,” he began to reply.

“I beg your pardon?” his manager suddenly appeared with a furrowed brow aimed at his employee. “Were you seriously about to let them take it for free?”

“Well we don’t want it.” the assistant shrugged carelessly.

“And you’re just going to let us lose a profit just because they’re stupid enough to buy a creature that useless?”

“Uh, we can hear you, you know!” Benedict called out in annoyance.

“You can have her for ten galleons.” the manager said.

“What?!” Benedict screwed his face up (as did the shop assistant). “That’s what you charge for owls double her size!” he argued, considering his eagle owl, Clement, had been nine galleons. “That’s totally unreasonable!”

“Take it or leave it.” the managed said. “If you want her so badly.”

“Ben.” Sophie murmured quietly. “I... I can’t afford her. I don’t even have one galleon.”

Benedict’s heart stuttered at the sombre expression on her face as she looked down mournfully at the little owl in her hands, with the small bird making a sad little noise, as if knowing she wouldn’t be leaving the store with Sophie. He couldn’t believe how heartlessly greedy the manager was being, charging such an extortionate amount to two students of all customers.

He knew his parents wouldn’t have hesitated to pay for the owl for Sophie but he also knew the money he now had left from his father wouldn’t be enough to afford the bird - but with that being said, Benedict did still have some other money on him...

“Fine!” he snapped, rummaging around in his jacket pocket and handing over the ten galleons, slapping them down into the manager’s hand. “And that had better come with a cage!”

“Deal.” the manager smirked triumphantly, clearly delighted with the daylight robbery he had just pulled off.

“Ben, you really shouldn’t have!” Sophie said. “I won’t be able to pay you back any time soon-”

“Pay me back for what?” he asked. “It’s my treat.”

“But... but what about your Firebolt?” her eyes shone at him worriedly.

“No, no, no, no.” he quickly assured her. “That wasn’t from my own pocket money. No. No, mum and dad had money set aside to treat you today to something special. They mentioned it to me and Ant last night.” he expertly fibbed, knowing if he admitted to spending his own money on her that she would stubbornly try to turn his offer down to pay for the owl.

“Really?” Sophie’s eyes rounded with astonishment.

“Really.” he nodded. “It was always the plan to get you something extra special, Soph. Mum said if one of us was with you, without either her or dad, to buy whatever might have caught your eye. And nothing else has caught your eye quite like this little one.” he smiled and booped the owl on the head before the shop assistant took her from Sophie’s hands and placed her in the cage he had brought from out back.

“Oh, thank you, Ben!” she cried and gave him a crushing hug. “Thank you so much!”

“Of course, Soph.” he grinned and hugged her back, elated to have brought her such joy.

When they exited the emporium they met his parents laden with shopping bags and his sisters.

“Sophie!” Eloise gasped. “Did you get an owl?!” she asked as she and the rest of her sisters quickly surrounded the cage and awwed at the little bird, who hooted in greeting at her admirers.

“Isn’t she adorable?” Sophie beamed as Daphne took the cage from her to get a closer look. “And thank you ever so much!” she then smiled at Violet and Edmund, both of who looked bewildered by the gratitude before Sophie supplied them with the explanation Benedict had just made up and then proceeded to hug them both.

Over Sophie’s head his parents gave him a questioning look and he returned it with a silent plea, begging them to just go along with it.

“But of course, dear.” Violet cupped Sophie’s face. “You deserve a treat. And we were saying you deserved an owl of your own.” she smiled and brushed a curl behind Sophie’s ear before giving her a quick peck on the forehead.

Sophie positively beamed back at her and then returned to her new pet and eagerly began discussing names with the Bridgerton sisters.

“Son? You ready to get your Firebolt?” Edmund asked him.

“Oh. Right. Um, actually, I’m not going to bother.” Benedict quietly replied, making sure Sophie didn’t hear. “My old one’s fine and anyway it turns out I haven’t saved up enough.”

“Honey, why don’t you take the girls to Sugarplum’s?” Violet suggested to Edmund, a silent communication taking place between them with a single glance.

Edmund then steered Sophie and his daughters in the direction of the sweet shop, much to young Hyacinth’s delight, and then Benedict was left with his mother.

“Ben, I’ve watched you count up and check and check again all the money you’ve saved for this Firebolt. You’ve talked of nothing else all summer. How come you suddenly can’t afford it?” she enquired with a raised brow.

Never one to be able to keep anything from his mother, Benedict explained the situation at the emporium and how he paid out his own money just to make sure the little owl came home with Sophie.

“And I’m sorry for lying and claiming that you had treated her but I knew she wouldn’t have accepted me paying for the owl if she knew it was with my own money. But I couldn’t just let them cull that little owl, mum! And I couldn’t bear to see Sophie so distraught.”

Benedict wasn’t expecting it when his mother drew him into a hug, stroking a hand through his hair and giving him a kiss on the cheek.

“You are an incredibly kind and thoughtful young man, Benedict.” his mother hummed. “That was a very sweet thing of you to do.”

“I mean, I know you would have done the same if you had been there-”

“I know, I know. But still, you did it without hesitation. I’m so proud of you, Ben.”

“It was nothing. Really.” Benedict swallowed, feeling uncomfortable with the unnecessary praise. “Sophie deserves an owl.”

“She does.”

“And she deserves to be treated.”

“Of course.”

“So it’s no big deal.” he shrugged.

“Mmhm...” she regarded him with an unreadable look that Benedict knew was going to bug him if he tried to figure out what it meant. “Now, how about we get you that Firebolt?”

“Mum, I can’t afford it anymore.” he reminded her.

“Yes you can.” she narrowed her eyes at him. “I’ve got to reimburse you for the money you spent on Sophie for the treat we were meant to be paying for, after all.”

Benedict tried to argue that his mother needn’t pay the difference since it was his own choice to spend his money, but Violet wouldn’t hear of it, and ten minutes later he emerged from Quidditch Supplies with the brand new Firebolt tucked under his arm.

#and that's ember's origin story #harry potter au #bridgerton drabble #benophie drabble #benedict bridgerton #sophie beckett

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jeanmoreausautismstickers · 1 year

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The Boy in the Shop

Diagon Alley was brilliant to Remus Lupin. According to the 8-year-old, nowhere would ever be able to top it. He'd been coming with Minerva and Poppy for four years, and each time they went, he'd find another thing that amazed him.

"Minnie, may I please go to Flourish and Blotts?" Remus begged, trying his best to look sweet and innocent. He knew she'd probably say no, she was busy and she hated the crowds in the bookshop anyhow.

To his surprise, Minerva smiled down at him. "Do you think you're capable of going on your own?" Remus nodded quickly. "Then yes I suppose you may, but I expect you to be back by 14:30, we're meeting the Pettigrews for tea, alright?" "Thank you!" Remus hugged her quickly before sprinting across the street. A whole hour and a half, he thought to himself, feeling very grown up all of the sudden.

Remus spent the better part of his hour and a half looking through the Hogwarts books. He knew he didn't need them, and he wouldn't for another three years, but a part of him was hoping maybe he'd be able to get some advanced lessons from Minerva. She was a professor, after all, she'd know the basics. Then he could be top of his year, maybe he'd even get to skip some of the first-year lessons because of it. He hadn't noticed how long he'd been standing in front of the shelf until a severe-looking girl tapped his shoulder.

"Oh, er, sorry," he mumbled, looking down at his feet. He could feel his face flushing. "Then move, will you? I need a book," she responded. He flinched at the tone and shuffled out of her way. "Sorry about her, it's her second year. She thinks she's so cool now that she's in Hogwarts," another voice pipes up from next to Remus, making him jump. "I'm Sirius, that's my cousin, Narcissa." Remus looks up at the other boy, Sirius, and startles. "Like. Sirius Black?" he asks, incredulous. "The one and only," Sirius grins. "You are not. You're the third in our family," another boy, nearly identical to Sirius, pipes up. Remus hadn't noticed him. "Shut up, Reg. Sorry, I forgot to introduce him. This is my little brother, Reggie. Reggie, say hi." Sirius says, shoving the other boy forward.

The younger boy hunkers down a little, shaking his head. "My name is, um, Regulus. Not Reggie." Remus watches as Sirius' face flickers with worry before he wraps an arm around him. He murmurs something to Regulus before looking up and smiling at Remus. "Sorry for him, he's still a bit shy. What's your name?" he asks, ruffling his brother's hair as he subtly steps in front of him again.

Remus shrugs. "I'm Remus Lupin." Sirius snorts. "You know your name is Wolf Wolf, right?" he asks. Remus winces a bit. "Yeah." "Anyway, what were you looking at the Hogwarts books? You don't look old enough to go yet," Sirius asks. Remus shrugs. "I'm not, but I was hoping I might be able to get a head start," he explains. "My guardian teaches at Hogwarts, so I figured she might help."

Sirius snorts, giving him an odd look. "That's funny." Remus crosses his arms. "Why?" he asks. Sirius shrugs. "Your mum or dad can't be a Hogwarts professor. There wouldn't be anyone to care for you for ten months," Sirius explains. "It just isn't possible." He says it like it's obvious, which bothers Remus. "You're right. It's not my mum or dad. I'm cared for by Minerva McGonagall." he argues back, annoyance seeping into his voice. "Prove it then." Sirius challenges.

Remus rolls his eyes. "Come on then, she's in the shop across the street." Sirius hesitates, looking at his cousin. "Cissy?" "What?" she snaps, clearly not paying great attention. Sirius flinches a little, and Remus watches as Regulus' fingers wrapped around his brother's wrist. "Reg and I are going to go across the street for a moment," he says, standing a bit taller now that he's noticed Regulus' nervousness. "Whatever, Sirius," she responds, waving him away. "Don't get caught."

Sirius nods, taking Regulus' hand and following Remus. They jog over to Scribbulus, and Remus immediately spots Minerva. "Minnie!" he calls, pulling the Black brothers over to where she's standing. "Yes, Re- Oh, hello," she says, turning. "Hello! Are you really Lupin's mum?" Sirius asks her. Minerva chuckles. "No, I'm not his biological mother. I do take care of him all the time though, so I suppose I'm something akin to a mother. Why do you ask?"

"He didn't believe me when I said you and Poppy take care of me! He said Hogwarts professors can't be parents," Remus explains. "I had to prove him wrong." Minerva nods, smiling. "I suppose it can be a bit difficult occasionally. It isn't impossible though. . ." she trails off. "Sirius!" Sirius tells her, and she nods. "Right. Not impossible in the slightest, Sirius." She gives him a kind smile, right as Regulus gasps and yanks on his brother's sleeve. "Sirius! Sirius, mother's coming," he says, panic evident in his voice. Sirius' eyes grow wide and he turns, just as Walburga walks into the shop, pulling a very nervous Narcissa behind her.

"Walburga! Lovely to see you again." Minerva says. Remus can hear the disdain dripping in her town. Walburga doesn't pay her any mind. "Sirius Orion Black!" she shrieks, grabbing her son by the ear. Remus and Minerva watch as she wrenches her elder son out of the shop, the younger trailing behind anxiously as their mother spits threats at the two.

When the family's gone, Remus turns to Minerva. "She seems rather. Unpleasant," he tells her, and Minerva laughs. "Her son, Sirius, is nice. Regulus is very quiet though, they don't seem very similar." Remus continues, trailing behind Minerva as she pays for her things. "I'm sure you and Sirius will be great friends when you're in Hogwarts. Come along now. We've got to pick up Poppy before we go to tea."

Remus grins, following her from the shop. Maybe they will be good friends.

#minerva mcgonagall #poppy pomfrey #remus lupin #wolf baby #nobleflower raising Remus #baby Remus #i love them your honour #child sirius and regulus #sirius black #walburga black #regulus black #black brothers #narcissa black #wiseflower

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fidemaledicta · 1 year

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who: @caitrionaebingwhere: Diagon Alley, Scribbulus Writing Instruments

It was one of the rarer occasions, a shopping trip for only the most necessary and of course the most necessary visit to Scribbulus, her favorite little shop. There was something fascinatingly honest about stationary supplies, quills, and the scent of fresh parchment. The shop was also usually much emptier than the other ones around. Whereas Flourish & Blotts was a place filled with the busy feet of readers and young students, this place lacked human presence for the most part all together. Emmeline preferred it that way. It also seemed like the smallest store in the entire street despite seemingly, by magic so she assumed, fitting in so much more than the others. Only Ollivander’s could compare with its magnificently stocked-to-the-brim shelves.

Careful fingers were gliding across the new parchment types laid out in front of her when the bell announced another customer. The witch didn’t bother looking up until she heard the steps stop somewhere near her. Only then was her curiosity peaked enough for Emmeline to finally glance up. It was a mix of emotions than ran through her within mere seconds upon landing on the figure in front of her before settling on a knowing smirk, the type that she’d only ever thrown in the other’s direction. Even now it didn’t feel as though words were needed. There was no question there as to how a meeting such as theirs could have taken so long. There was no desire to know beyond all that she was aware of already. The world they lived in was too cruel to leave room for such things and between them it had never been needed.

Emmeline allowed herself to turn toward the witch fully. “Caitriona. It’s been a while.” Only ever statements between them. Anything that needed saying would be said in others way, it always had been. “They seem to have a new shipment of parchment.” Her own way of wondering what was new with Caitriona.

#caitrionaebing #truth shrouded in darkness;; threads #threads;; caitriona

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spellwrites · 2 years

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12. someone who taught them a valuable lesson

((Introducing Imogen's default-verse (ex-)boyfriend, Daniel "Danny" Heap:))

A rueful huff of laughter escaped Imogen's lips. "That's Danny Heap. He's my ex, plus the reason I had to find a new favorite stationary shop to frequent, and honestly it's a toss-up as to which one I'm more mad about.

"I met him right after I got my shopfront off Diagon Alley. He was the clerk at Scribbulus - still is, the prick - and he was hot, he was in a band, he was into me, he was fantastic in bed... We dated for a few years, even moved in together. I thought I was happy, but... I don't know, I reckon part of me always felt like I was settling. Guess I still need to work on being honest with myself.

"Anyway, things were going well - or I convinced myself they were - and then the war started again, and I joined the Order. I felt bad about keeping it a secret from Danny, but it turns out I was right not to, because he didn't want to believe You-Know-Who was back, and nothing I said could convince him. So I was running around behind his back fighting a war he denied was even happening. Fun, right? It gets better.

"Fudge finally admitted the war was real, and Danny couldn't pretend anymore, but in the meantime, he'd noticed my disappearances for Order business, and he started to suspect I was seeing someone else. Eventually, he confronted me, and I had to come clean. Stupid of me. I should have just lied, said he was right.

"Danny freaked out. He didn't approve of me risking my life for wizardkind. He said it wasn't safe, that I should leave the fighting to Dumbledore and the Ministry. As if there'd even be a Ministry left if everyone had that attitude. I managed to talk him around eventually, but he was never happy with it. Too scared he'd lose me, he said.

"I thought... I thought, if we could just make it through the war, we'd be okay. Things would go back to normal. We'd pick up where we left off in our old life. I was lying to myself again. I should have known that life didn't exist anymore.

"Everything came to a head one night with a Patronus from Minerva saying there was a Dark Mark above Hogwarts and Death Eaters in the castle, and they needed backup. Danny couldn't take it anymore, tried to stop me from leaving. We had a huge fight... Finally, he said - said I had to choose. Either us or them, because he couldn't watch me get myself killed, and I couldn't have both. He was right. So I walked out the door and never looked back.

"I figured I'd crash at one of my safe houses 'til I found a new place. Little did I know they were all about to be compromised by Severus turning 'traitor.' But that's a whole other story.

"You know what really ticks me off more than anything else, though, about Danny? The arse had the audacity to hit me up a few years later, after the war, to see if I wanted to make another go of it. As if I'd ever want to be with him again after he showed his true colors like that. Please."

#help will always be given at hogwarts to those who ask for it ( answered )#anonymous #it matters not what someone is born but what they grow to be ( meta )#the world isn't split into good people and death eaters ( headcanon )#all was well ( verse )#i've chosen my side ( verse )#and that's what matters. trying ( verse )#we are only as strong as we are united as weak as we are divided ( danny )

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coreopsis-and-magnolias · 1 year

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Beco Diagonal

I believe in fairy tales and serendipitous encounters Me despedi do meu pai na porta do Caldeirão Furado e, enquanto ele ia resolver seus assuntos no centro de Londres, eu podia ir sozinha fazer minhas compras de material escolar. Trazia na mão minha carta de Hogwarts com a lista de livros e materiais que precisaria para esse ano e mais uma lista de compras pessoais que esperava conseguir fazer se sobrasse algum dinheiro. Depois de trocar meu dinheiro trouxa em Gringots, voltei pela rua parando em quase todas as lojas para ver as vitrines e que tipo de coisas interessantes elas vendiam. A minha curiosidade era tanta que muitas vezes não conseguia conter minha vontade de ver tudo "com as mãos". Fiz carinho nos bichinhos na vitrine dA Fauna Bruxa e saí tocando em todas as balanças em exposição na Mundial Balanças, me divertindo em mexer com o equilíbrio de todos aqueles mecanismos delicados. Finalmente parei diante da Farmácia Mullpeppers, onde precisava comprar meus ingredientes para poções. Perdi um segundo olhando os barris de ingredientes expostos na rua, haviam pedaços de animais e frutos secos estranhos vendidos a granel e o que mais me chamou atenção foi um que dizia ter olhos de besouro, que pareciam apenas várias bolinhas minúsculas. Sem pensar duas vezes, enfiei a mão toda dentro do barril e ao tirá-la trouxe junto um punhadinho de olhinhos minúsculos, que joguei no bolso da saia antes que alguém notasse. Depois disso entrei saltitante na loja, já apresentando a lista de ingredientes que precisaria para esse ano em Hogwarts. Saí minutos depois com uma sacola cheia de ingredientes curiosos, imaginando quais poções faria esse ano. Segui pela rua, continuando minhas compras.

***

Minha parada seguinte foi na Madame Malkin, onde precisava comprar novos uniformes pois os meus do terceiro ano já estavam pequenos demais. Segui a costureira até o fundo a loja onde ela tiraria minhas medidas, passando por um vários cabides com os mais diferentes tipos de roupas, entre robes, vestidos e capas. Logo avistei um casaco longo roxo berrante que chamou minha atenção e me aproximei para estudá-lo de perto, ao mesmo tempo que pegava no meu bolso o punhado de olhinhos de besouros que tinha "emprestado" na farmácia e passava para dentro de um dos bolsos do casaco. Em seguida me afastei tranquilamente e voltei a seguir a costureira. Depois de descobrir quais eram as peças ideais para o meu tamanho, a costureira ainda me ofereceu uma infinidade de acessórios nas cores da minha casa. Quase fiquei com o tradicional cachecol vermelho e dourado que via todos os veteranos usaram, mas concluí que seria mais econômico se pedisse para minha mãe me tricotar um, ou melhor ainda, se eu mesma aprendesse a tricotar para fazer meu próprio cachecol. Acabei então apenas com dois conjuntos de vestes pretas e um chapéu, já que não fazia ideia de onde tinha ido parar o meu antigo. Paguei a costureira contando as moedas uma a uma e, já que ainda não havia decorado quantos sicles faziam um galeão, ainda precisei de uma ajuda.

***

Minha última parada foi na Instrumentos de Escrita Scribbulus, só porque não podia resistir a uma loja de papelaria. Esperava encontrar materiais diferentes com alguma propriedade mágica, como tintas que mudassem de cor ou brilhassem e folhas de papel de cores diferentes ou com estampas que se mexessem. Mas em vez disso, só encontrei materiais que pareciam ser os mesmos de séculos atrás, como penas, tinteiros e pergaminhos. Enquanto passeava pela loja, fui distraidamente passando os dedos sobre as prateiras e produtos em exposição, todos cuidadosamente identificados com plaquinhas com seu valor. Inicialmente me interessei pelos tinteiros de tinta colorida, mas havia aprendido da pior maneira que era desastrada demais para esse material. Depois de várias blusas, cadernos e até mochilas manchadas de tinta, resolvi me contentar com canetas trouxas, que por sinal eram muito mais baratas e variadas. Me conformei em pegar apenas os pergaminhos pedidos na lista de materiais e enquanto esperava o dono da loja atender outro cliente, me ocupei embaralhando as plaquinhas de preços dos produtos que estavam ao meu alcance. Minutos depois, saía da loja com meus pergaminhos, já planejando pedir que meu pai me levasse até alguma papelaria trouxa que houvesse por perto.

em 2021-01-16

#5º ano #tracker to do

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adhonoremrpbios · 2 years

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-- CHARACTER --

Name: Elijah Cole Faceclaim: Lorenzo Zurzolo Age: 22 Blood Status: Halfblood Affiliation: Deatheaters Former School & House: Hogwarts, Slytherin Occupation: Store Clerk at Scribbulus Writing Implements

-- BIOGRAPHY --

tw: parental death

Elijah was the last born son to Francesca and Cyrus, but he had not been meant to be. Francesca had wanted to keep going until she and Cyrus had a girl, however due to complications with Elijah’s birth, Francesca passed away moments after he was born.

His father kept him at arms length, though it wasn’t entirely intentional. Unlike most arranged marriages, Francesca and Cyrus fell in love and so Cyrus was broken up by her death and struggled for many years to move past it.

Elijah never felt the loss of his mother in the same way that some of his older brothers did. He was close with his brothers, but as his oldest brothers felt the loss of their mother more deeply, in fits of anger they would blame Elijah for her death (rightly) and call him a murderer.

He was coddled by the nanny, who felt bad for him. Elijah manipulated her and found that he could get his brothers into trouble easily, because she would always side with him. He perfected the puppy dog eyes and trembling bottom lip at an early age.

Much to people’s surprise, Elijah was sorted into Slytherin. His true nature crept to the surface when he was surrounded by his fellow snakes and he became much more himself in their presence.

Though he rarely spoke about it, he came to the conclusion that as his first act upon entering the world was to kill his mother, he must be evil and couldn’t see the point in trying to change that.

Elijah has a weird affinity with animals that he hides. Animals will tend to seek him out, especially if they are injured, and while at Hogwarts he found himself in the company of Hagrid on more than one occasion, tending to some injured creature from the forest. He denies it venomously if questioned.

The owner of Scribbulus Writing Instruments in Elijah’s godfather, who gave him a job upon leaving Hogwarts, knowing his godson would never actually pursue the career he pretended not to want.

He joined the Deatheaters because it was expected of him to follow his brothers. He has the mark, but is unbothered by it.

-- TRAITS --

Negative - Childish - Ruthless Positive + Skilled + Loyal

Elijah Cole is taken by Mel.

#elijah cole #c #taken

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t-0mes · 5 years

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Scribbulus, Diagon Alley, London

#harry potter #scribbulus #diagon alley #london #cosy #cozy #autumn #fall #warm #shop #street #warner bros #studio tour #hp

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ellacott-photography · 5 years

Photo

Photo: Scribbulus on Diagon Alley (Harry Potter Film Series) as seen at WBTour London

Date Taken: 20th April 2017

#scribbulus #diagon alley #harry potter #harry potter movies #wbtourlondon #wizarding world #lightroom #photography #photographers on tumblr

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atomic0popsicle-blog · 4 years

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The newest addition to #diagonalley - Scribbulus' Writing Instruments! #3dprinted #3dprintedmodels #scribbulus #harrypotter https://www.instagram.com/p/B-09GDhj_Vb/?igshid=170tzljlmlh78

#diagonalley #3dprinted #3dprintedmodels #scribbulus #harrypotter

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nojudgingbybloodline · 4 years

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Milking the Hippogriff Dry as the Hogwarts Express Gravy Train Runs Out of Steam:

Why Warner Bros. are Wrong to Turn Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows into Two Films

By MaraudingDon

On March 13th 2008, Warner Bros. confirmed1 rumours that had been circulating for a number of months that they would indeed be splitting the seventh film in the Harry Potter franchise, Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, into two parts. This essay will set out reasons why this long-time, self-confessed Harry Potter uberfan is appalled by this decision.

The Harry Potter films have been overwhelmingly successful. According to IMDb,2all five previously released films occupy spots in the top twenty-one grossing films of all time. Three of them are in the top ten. Harry Potter and the Philosophers Stone(Sorcerer's Stone if you are not British) is the highest placed with $968 million+ box office takings, and even Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban at number twenty-one took a very respectable $789+ million at the box office.

This is the cash cow, or for the purpose of this essay, the cash hippogriff, that has served Warner Bros. very nicely indeed, thank you very much.

Unfortunately, the cash hippogriff is about to milk its last drop, because with the Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows film, this lucrative film franchise runs out. The cogs in the WB machine must have squealed louder than Dobby when they read the final book and realised that Lord Voldemort had eight portions of soul, instead of seven. "Let's do the same with the film' squealed delighted film bosses as they got ready to count their galleons in the Lightning Struck counting tower ’ and so instead of seven films to match seven books, we get eight films.

Now at the start of this, I must confess that I am not a fan of Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows. In July 2007, just before the release of the novel, Jo Rowling told ITV News3 that "Some people will loathe it. For some people to love it, other people must loath it. That's just in the nature of the plot." Well she was spot on, because even though I have read the book five times now, I still loathe it as much as I did that first time. However, as someone who has huge respect for what Jo Rowling has achieved, it is still important to me that Warner Bros. does justice to this amazing world and does not abuse their position as holders of the copyright and trademarks. In fact, a well executed film could provide me, and others who did not like the book, a new appreciation of it in the same way the excellent Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix film did for many.

What made Harry Potter work for me, what made me fall in love with this excellent series (and despite my loathing of the final book, I still regard the first six as works of genius), was her excellent characterization. J.K. Rowling succeeded where so many other authors have failed by creating peripheral characters that a reader could truly care about. Adult characters like Remus Lupin, Minerva McGonagall, Molly and Arthur Weasley, and the younger characters like Luna, Neville and the Weasleys. Even the traditional baddies like Bellatrix were utterly fascinating to read about ’ and was there ever a greater literary character than Severus Snape? For six books he created more heated debate than any of the other Harry Potter characters put together. So herein lies my first problem with a two part Deathly Hallows film ’ in the first part, you aren't even going to see half of these characters. If Steve Kloves adheres religiously to the book, then we may be lucky to get a quick glimpse of Severus at the very beginning, but then that's it until part two. No Hogwarts, no teachers, NO NEVILLE! The heart and soul immediately disappears.

Do people realize when they welcome a two part film, just how much of the trio we are going to get? If the film is split at the "Silver Doe" chapter4 for example, then we may get to see Voldemort and his Death Eaters opening the film, a rather anti-climactic goodbye to the Dursleys, "The Seven Potters" with a big chase and fight scene, the deaths of Hedwig and Mad-Eye, a wedding, and the rest will be Harry, Ron and Hermione. Yes there will be scenes involving the locket hunt at the Ministry and a visit to Godric's Hollow, but are Daniel Radcliffe, Rupert Grint and Emma Watson strong enough to hold a film of this magnitude? I don't think so. There is no doubt that all three of them have improved as they have made that difficult transition from child actor to adult ’ Daniel especially has improved ten-fold since those awkward first films, but several hours of Emma's hypnotic dancing eyebrows is not enough to hold my attention. It is worth remembering that nearly all the action in this book takes place in the last third of the text, including a fantastic battle segment at Hogwarts, the resolution to the Snape storyline, and of course, the denouement to the entire series. The casting directors of the Harry Potter films have done an outstanding job in casting the very best of British stage and screen in these movies. We've been lucky enough to see Richard Harris, Sir Michael Gambon, Dame Maggie Smith, Alan Rickman, Fiona Shaw, Gary Oldman, David Thewlis and many more award winning stars grace our screens together. What a tragic disappointment then to have a Deathly Hallows part one in which we may not even see these greats at all, or in tiny dribs and drabs. Those who don't like the book often mention the camping. Those who love the book often moan at those who moan about the camping! But there is no getting away from it that part one of this two-part film is going to consist of a lot of the trio arguing whilst either planning their camping or actually doing it.

So let's move away from camping and talk about money ’ because money talks. Films like Titanic and the amazing Lord of the Rings trilogy took enormous box office takings, not because of the amount of people who went to see the films, but because of the amount of repeat viewings. It's why the Harry Potter franchise has been so successful ’ families and non-fans will only take box office receipts so high, it is the super fans who see the films three, four, five, even twenty times each that create such huge box office receipts. The Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix film took $937+ million at the box office. A tiny, miniscule percentage of that was my viewing it five times, I loved it, couldn't get enough of it. Will I go and watch Deathly Hallows part one five times? Not in a million years, and I highly doubt others will either.

I've put it off too long ’ I now find myself having to write about He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Allowed-To-Write-The-Screenplay, a.k.a. Steve Kloves. (Here I offer an apology and a blindfold to my friend, fellow longtime Leaky stalwart and Kloves fan Bandersnatch) but does the thought of a five hour two-part film penned by Mr. Kloves make anybody else want to jump through the veil themselves?!! Lest we forget, this is the man who in the Prisoner of Azkaban film managed to turn Ron Weasley into the cowardly lion, and Hermione Granger into the Bionic Woman! Be honest, is this the man you Snapeophiles trust with doing justice to your hero? Personally, I'm waiting for Lord Voldemort to cackle, "I'll get you my pretty, and your little dog too."

I just find it unfathomable to understand why Warner Bros. has been so averse to creating one film that is say, three and a half hours long. That is more than sufficient to do justice to the book. History shows that cinema audiences are more than happy to sit time and time again through long films; the examples of Titanic and Return of the King back this up. Titanic had a run time of 194 minutes,5 whilst Return of the King numbed our derrieres for 201 minutes,6 yet still we flocked to see them, making them the highest grossing films of all time.

Instead we are faced with getting two films, six months apart. According to the press release, part one will reach us in November 2010 and part two in May 2011. The first is two years after the Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince film and part two will reach us nearly four years after the release of the book. Again, I feel Warner Bros. has misjudged its audience. The super-fans are slowly losing their fervor for all things Potter, the fandom is slowing down. If part one is judged to be a failure, will the "normal" audience, those who are not super fans, even bother going back to watch part two? The denouement to the Deathly Hallows book is dominated by a fantastic battle scene that is covered in more than one hundred pages of nail biting prose. I can understand the producers perhaps believing that they could not do justice to this battle in one film (in addition to everything else they may want to create), but my argument is that they absolutely could do it all in one film, and do it well. Let's look at the examples of the Lord of the Rings trilogy again. The Lord of the Rings: The Two Towers was dominated by a battle at Helm's Deep and, led by Peter Jackson, the film version of the novel was exquisite. Even better was the battle for Gondor in Lord of the Rings: The Return of the King, a battle that easily overshadows the Battle of Hogwarts. If New Line Cinema and Peter Jackson could do it ’ why not Warner Bros. and David Yates? One longer film instead of two shorter ones will keep the dramatic tension flowing to great effect.

Back to money again. Once the films have sizzled or sunk at the box office, we then get the DVDs. I would be interested to hear what Warner Bros. have to say about this. Are we, as most anticipate, going to have to pay for two DVDs for one story? Instead of the usual $30 here in Australia, will I have to pay $60? There is no question of an uberfan like me not getting them, of course I have to and WB knows this. I have a nasty taste in my mouth that could be shampoo ¦ no, it's bubotuber pus ¦ no, it's the taste of being ripped off.

I'm sorry Mr. Heyman, you may be as gorgeous as Fleur Weasley, but this decision screams out, "money, money, money." The Hogwarts Express gravy train is on its last journey and you appear to be clinging on by your fingertips. Time will tell whether this is a decision you come to rue.

Notes

1. Business Wire, "Warner Bros. Plans Two-Part Film Adaptation' paragraph 1.

2. IMDb, "All-Time Worldwide Box office."

3. Oatts, "Rowling: Some will loathe it' paragraph 2.

4. Rowling, Deathly Hallows, 296’314.

5. IMDb, "Titanic."

6. Ibid., "The Lord of the Rings: The Return of the King."

Bibliography

Business Wire. "Warner Bros. Plans Two-Part Film Adaptation of "Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows" to Be Directed by David Yates." Business Wire, 13 March 2008, http://www.businesswire.com/portal/site/google/?ndmViewId=news_view&newsId=20080313005332&newsLang=en (accessed 21 April 2008).

The Internet Movie Database (IMDb). "All-Time Worldwide Box office." http://www.imdb.com/boxoffice/alltimegross?region=world-wide (accessed 21 April 2008).

”””. "Titanic." http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0120338/ (accessed 21 April 2008).

”””. "The Lord of the Rings: The Return of the King." http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0167260/ (accessed 21 April 2008).

Oatts, Joanne. "Rowling: Some will loathe it." digital spy, 13 July 2007. http://www.digitalspy.co.uk/tv/a65641/rowling-some-will-loathe-it.html (accessed 21 April 2008).

Rowling, J.K. Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, London: Bloomsbury, 2007.

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gatheringfiki · 2 years

Text

The following ficlet was written by @marigoldvance based on this photoset.

Fili/Kili, Gen.

You might also be able to read this story on AO3.

If you’ve enjoyed this story, please leave a comment either in replies or on AO3. :)

The Auror

—

December 23rd. Exactly two years since he’d been introduced to a man who wasn’t supposed to exist – a man who’d, for all intents and purposes, turned the tide of the war – and Kíli was whistling as he went about putting together a modest order of hemlock and holly centerpieces for an event at the newly reestablished Ministry of Magic, organized to celebrate the official inauguration of Kingsley Shacklebolt as Minister.

Those were strange times, certainly, the Magical population of Great Britain (and elsewhere) still recovering from the devastation, but there was an irrefutable sense of hope and relief that rose above the rubble. Although Diagon Alley wasn’t nearly as crowded nor as spectacular as it had once been, it was coming along. Storefronts boasted all manner of whatsits and thingummies, from books to brooms to a gleeful assortment of doohickies out of Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes, now owned and operated by George Weasley alone, though his younger brother, Auror Trainee, Ronald – or Freckles, as Fíli had affectionately dubbed him – popped in from time to time to lend a hand.

Across the way, Ollivanders’ had reopened as well, although Garrick Ollivander himself wasn’t at the helm at present, having left the shop in the capable hands of his great-great-grand-nephew and apprentice, Garfield. However, Kíli had no doubt the wandmaker would be back before too long.

As for Kíli, well, he’d decided to take a much-deserved sabbatical from Magical Law Enforcement to focus on doing what he’d always dreamed of doing later in life, a retirement plan of sorts. Of course, during the war, he’d been forced to confront the idea that later might never exist and that now was all that was promised; violence and bloodshed were a drastic way to gain perspective, but, Merlin, did it work.

He’d purchased the empty shop, once Scribbulus Writing Instruments, from Gringots for practically peanuts. With Fíli’s help, Kíli had transformed the dreary space into something magnificent – a small flora shop which he named The Creaky Shed. While he didn’t receive a lot of foot traffic, he was kept busy for parties and events, in high demand in no small part due to his name, though his talent for arranging desirable masterpieces was undeniable.

Kíli had always excelled at Herbology.

“You’ve gone off somewhere,” A warm, honeyed voice said into his ear, followed by the press of a hard body flush against his back, thick arms around his middle, and the dull press of a chin into his shoulder.

Kíli’s heart fluttered, his face and neck tingled with heat.

He’d never get used to the casual intimacy Fíli shared, how blunt he was with his affections. It’d started less than a month after they’d first met in the basement of the Bristol department and hadn’t dwindled since. And while they’d shared more than chaste kisses and held hands, Kíli still wasn’t bold enough to ask exactly what in the world they were doing. That they lived and worked together should’ve been a big clue, but Kíli liked things spelled out for him and Fíli… well, Fíli was Fey and Fey weren’t keen on being straightforward at the best of times.

“How’re the wreathes coming?” Kíli asked rather than address any of the important questions.

“All done.” Fíli said, trailing his lips up the slope of Kíli’s throat, one hand stroking down Kíli’s side, tickle-light, and coming to rest firmly on Kíli’s hip. “Anything I can help you with out here?”

Kíli grinned lecherously, “I can think of a few things.”

It was always that way with them. Innuendos and sex and then back to business as usual. Were they a couple? Were they dating? They’d never even attempted going to dinner or getting ice cream or going to a Muggle film or whatever normal people did on dates. Were they already married? Was this marriage?

“You’ve gone off again.” Fíli chuckled, released Kíli and moved around him to lean his hip against Kíli’s worktable. He lifted one of his large, rough hands to Kíli’s cheek, turning Kíli’s face toward him and brushing his thumb across Kíli’s bottom lip, a twinkle in his eyes. “Something on your mind?”

Kíli narrowed his eyes, “Not what you’re thinking.”

Fíli feigned surprise, hand to his heart, then snorted and said, “I gathered as much.” He peered more carefully at Kíli, “Is everything alright? Did Molly change her mind about something?”

“No, no,” Kíli waved the idea away, “Haven’t heard from her since this morning, so I think we’re in the clear. No, it’s just—” Are we Fey married? Are we supposed to have children, because I want children eventually and I need to you be on board? What are we!? “Nothing. Just thinking about how we got here, is all.”

Fíli very clearly didn’t believe him. Thankfully, Fíli also didn’t call attention to the blatant lie and allowed Kíli his private thoughts.

“Alright.” He said, straightening up to return to the backroom that had become his workspace since he moved himself into Kíli’s retirement plan and made himself a massive part of it. “Oh, before I forget.” He fished something out of his back pocket and tossed it on Kíli’s worktable, smirking as he walked backwards and said, “I have a feeling this might help clear some things up.”

With that, Fíli turned on his heel and disappeared behind the frothy curtain of white wisterias which divided the front and back rooms.

Kíli raised a brow, huffed, and shook his head, shifting back toward his work and, coincidentally, the thin, plain envelope Fíli had dropped into the stems Kíli was arranging. Frowning, Kíli examined the envelope, saw no indication of what it could possibly be, and so decided he should do what any good Auror would and investigate.

He opened the flap and pulled out a square of fancy cardstock printed in a simple, charming needle and cone design. Kíli’s eyebrows shot into his hairline when he read the delicate script penned across the center of the card, throwing his hands up in outrage.

Be my Valentine?

“This doesn’t clear anything up!” He bellowed over his shoulder.

A distant cackle answered him before it dawned on Kíli that, “AND IT’S ONLY CHRISTMAS!”

Kíli sulked until Christmas Eve, when Fíli made it absolutely, crystal clear how he felt about Kíli and proposed.

Kíli still refused to be his Valentine.

#Gathering 12 Days 2021 #Fili/Kili #FiKi #Durincest #the Hobbit

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