#because I doubt there is an owl in the Wizarding World which is living in a suitable environment

[saintsenara]

12, 14, 16, and 22 for Snape asks please

I am most interested in your view of Lily as a character. To me, she never really seemed to live up to the hype I see? Like, I get the point that she's supposed to be Harry's mother and is supposed to be seen as the one who can't do any harm because of the sacrifice and all that. But I don't know whether JK purposely or intentionally put, like, the worst flashbacks to portray her as angelic(?). If I remember correctly, she wasn't even talked about as much as James by Remus or Sirius, they had to add things about her in the movies.

I can't ever see Lily as a good friend to Severus. To others, maybe, but I feel like it was different with Severus. More like a complicated one that was give-and-take, including Severus. Severus, an abused poor boy from Cokeworth, who knew about the wizarding world and Lily, a girl brought up in a happy family, who knew nothing about the wizarding world. Severus was able to get a friend while Lily gained knowledge of the wizarding world. But the one thing that cements this view of mine is the line where it says that Lily looks as if she was about to smile when Severus was being flipped over. Plus, I don't care if anyone says that she tried to defend him, but girl couldn't even use her wand or take points off as Prefect?? Girl was literally making a show, or whatever you want to call it.

Sorry about the rant, but I'm all for a good friend Lily in fics but when people say she was like that in canon? Maybe at times, but not when it mattered. I'd love to hear your opinion though.

thank you for the ask, @be-at-peace05!

[snape ask game here]

12. if you had to choose a golden trio era student to be snape's friend, who would it be and why?

while i don’t subscribe to the idea that he’s his godson, snape’s affection for draco malfoy does seem to be completely sincere. malfoy is also possessed of the sort of intellectual curiosity which snape obviously values (for example, how he figures out how to repair the vanishing cabinet - it’s genuinely impressive, and the fact that this is what he might be doing is certainly something which doesn’t occur to anyone in the order) and, while there’s no doubt that snape probably has as little interest in hearing him whine about everything as lucius does, i can see them having some genuinely fulfilling chats about potions. after all, malfoy gets an outstanding at owl, he must be good at the subject and he does seem to be interested in it.

14. what do you think is snape's favourite potion to prepare?

veritaserum. you just know he was chuckling to himself the whole time he was whipping that fake batch up for umbridge.

16. were you ever a snater? how and when did you become a snover?

i’m also extremely theatrical and fond of chemistry, so snape was always my boy.

i’m also capable of understanding the genre conventions which govern children’s literature and which require him to act as he does, so even when he was being a cock to various children we were chill.

22. do you think that lily was a good friend to snape?

well… this is the big one.

and the answer is no - but.

i always think it’s worth, before discussing lily, doing some quick acknowledgement of her narrative role in the story, which is a major contributing factor to why she feels a bit of a flop in person compared to the way she’s built up by other characters.

lily’s characterisation in canon is primarily hamstrung by two things. the first, as you note, is that her sacrificial role within the story requires a certain degree of perfection - not least because the harry potter series borrows heavily from the genre conventions of christian literature. lily is the analogy for the virgin mary - as we see when her purity of spirit succeeds in inflicting the first defeat on the satan-coded voldemort which will then be fulfilled by harry-as-the-resurrected-christ in the final stages of deathly hallows. obviously, a marian symbol is denied the complexity of other women - and that’s without even getting into the fact that the series has an extremely limited view of what ‘good’ motherhood is.

the second issue is that the text needs to keep lily’s centrality to the mystery hidden for as long as possible, not least because it needs to obscure snape’s true loyalties - and the role lily played in triggering them - until the very end of the seven-book series. this is the reason why sirius and lupin only speak about her once (after harry sees snape’s worst memory - and, even then, they’re mostly talking about james) and why harry’s self-conception is rooted entirely in his father - or in characters like sirius who are stand-ins for james - until half-blood prince, when the narrative begins to suggest that his mother is much more important than harry has previously given her credit for.

[the best way to illustrate this is to note that harry doesn’t give a shit in order of the phoenix that snape calls his mother a mudblood. his primary concern is that his father was a bully and that sirius aided and abetted him - when he thinks about lily, his concern is only that she doesn’t seem to like james, and his worry that his father forced her into a relationship. he doesn’t raise the fact that snape called lily a mudblood with sirius and lupin, and he doesn’t mention it to anyone else. but he cares - viscerally - about the slur at the end of half-blood prince, once the narrative is explicitly trying to convince the reader that snape is an unambiguous villain.]

these narrative necessities are a heavy burden for the canonical lily - and so i think she deserves some grace when it comes to how we analyse her behaviour in the snapshots of her as a real person we get in canon.

because of course she’s not perfect. why should she be? teenage girls are allowed to be less than flawless people - even towards their best friends.

[as an aside here, i think we have to be very careful - in our reading and our writing - not to replicate the contempt that jkr has for women who don’t fit her narrow view of ideal female behaviour. jkr loathes bitchy, girly, flighty, butch, rude, vapid, ugly women - just look at anything she’s ever said about pansy parkinson - and she tends to write her heroines - ginny and hermione chief among them - as that perfect not-like-other-girls storm of exactly pretty and clever and popular and brave enough to be worthy, but not so pretty as to be vain or clever as to be haughty or popular as to be slutty or brave as to be villainous. lily gets this treatment - and i think this drives the tendency of readers who dislike the way she behaves in canon to be hyper-critical of her characterisation. but the issue with this is that it’s also confining ‘good’ women to narrow boxes - while, all too often, allowing male characters a complexity their female counterparts are not permitted.]

which is to say: no, lily isn’t a good friend to snape. but he’s not a good friend to her either.

the issue that the two of them have is that they each relate to the other as though the other is the version of them that they’ve constructed in their head. they never take each other as they actually are.

it’s clear in canon that lily never moves beyond seeing snape as the child - devoted only to her - whose role was to teach her about the wonderful world of magic, and who acted primarily as a tool of her own self-actualisation. this is the reason why she can’t understand why snape is so concerned about fitting in at hogwarts - above all, why he wants to be friends with mulciber and avery - or why she never realises that he wants to be reassured of her affection for him versus the marauders, or why she doesn’t take what happens to him at the marauders’ hands seriously until she is made a part of it by james, or why she doesn’t understand snape’s relationship to his own social class and its role within slytherin. she simply doesn’t conceive of him as someone who exists for himself or who has a life of his own - he exists for her.

and snape thinks the same - he sees himself as the person who gave lily the wizarding world and, therefore, as the person who gets to dictate how she understands it. this is the reason why he can’t understand why she pushes back on his defence of mulciber’s use of dark magic (since he - in a very voldemort-ish move - clearly thinks that applying boundaries to what magic can and should be studied is gatekeeping), or why she doesn’t agree with him that the death eaters will help him, or why she’s upset when he’s rude to petunia, or why she leans into the performance of class expected from muggleborns (sucking up to slughorn, taking her pureblood husband’s name) in a time of increasing sectarian tension. she exists for him.

this assessment obviously makes them both sound incredibly cruel, but actually this is the way that childhood friendships often go. it’s very easy to see how the fact of being the only two magical children in cokeworth was validating for both snape and lily, and how this formed a tie between them which was very fierce but very brittle - which was never going to do anything other than shatter as they grew older, especially as they became aware of things like social structure, political affiliation, and sexual desire. it’s cruel of lily to laugh at snape’s poverty - absolutely - but it’s also the way that lots of teenagers who haven’t entirely grappled with their own relationship to society behave, and it’s also true that acting up in front of a boy you fancy is a time-honoured tradition which can also cause you to be quite cruel. lily isn’t nice by any means when snape is being attacked by james and sirius, but she doesn’t have to be. she just has to be human.

there are two final points which i think it’s worth being aware of:

the first is that snape evidently stands out as one of the few visibly working-class students in the castle [so much so that i have a meta in my drafts about whether or not hogwarts is a selective school] and the fact that he is obviously targeted for his poverty is cruel, and i understand why it makes many fans want to defend him - particularly given the fandom’s fondness for glorifying aristocracy and wealth.

but lily is also an other in wizarding society. i think it’s often not taken as seriously as it should be by snape fans just how terrified she must have been for her own safety, particularly from the later 1970s onwards, when all the evidence of canon is that voldemort is about to win. the wizarding world is set up to exclude her just as much as it is snape, and while we can and should be critical how her response to his poverty is unfair, we have to do the same for his outright refusal to acknowledge that she is subjected to discrimination on the basis of her blood status.

the second is that we don’t actually know if lily was a prefect - she was head girl, but james managed to become head boy without having been one. the person we do know was a prefect was remus lupin. if we’re criticising anyone for failing to intervene, it should be him.

#snape ask game #severus snape #lily evans #asks answered

[nokingsonlyfooles]

Nobody Goes to Hogwarts (Yes, the frog writes fanfic)

If you don't want a vicious Harry Potter deconstruction, do not click. I am serious, this is for your own mental health, angry fans. If you yell at me, you will boost my content with the algorithm. I don't want your attention and you don't want me to be seen, so our goals align. Just walk away.

I started this during Rowling's meltdown, for funsies, and then it got so bad that I quit. This was always meant to be a critical take on the Wizarding World, but I decided it was better not to name-check its author or prod the hornets' nest of her offended fans. So I did one and only outlined the rest. I got hit with a poll asking if I'd ever written fanfic, and I'm thinking about how people get discouraged and stop sharing their work, so now I'm putting it out here anyway. Potter's not going away, so we might as well deconstruct the hell out of it.

These are my characters from my story, which is firmly post-Potter. I put them in her world to see how badly people like them would frig it up. I'll write the rest if anybody want's that - it's fun for me! let me know! - but I'll summarize at the bottom, for the curious.

The one I wrote is for Hyacinth, and it's set in 1945 - they are wizards, so I had to spread their ages out a bit. (I don't really know how living for hundreds of years works in Potter, and neither does Rowling, so just roll with it.) She would've been a Hufflepuff, but she never got sorted, and this is why:

Barnaby leaned against the doorway and folded his arms. “Running away from home are we?” he said. “That’s a lovely hat for it. You look as if you’re about to deny the murder of your third husband.”

“It’s Tabby’s.” She adjusted it. It gave the abstract impression of a black swan with lace trimmings and a veil. “And I am not running away,” said the little blonde girl with the suitcase. She balled up another pair of stockings and stuffed them inside. There was also a full load of comic books, a painting of a bullfight, and she seemed to be stealing one of David’s smaller musical automatons, but she had neglected to pack any dresses. She wasn’t wearing one either, but she had put on a simple linen slip and some shoes and stockings, along with the hat. “I am going to school. I got my letter.” She held up the envelope.

The gentleman plucked it from her fingers and regarded it. “Hogwarts. Aren’t you a little old for Hogwarts, Alice?”

“My name is not Alice. They said it’s all right because of my injury.” She knocked her hand on the side of her head.

“I suppose this is your parents’ doing?”

“Beats me, and I don’t think I care,” she replied. “If I need anything signed, I’ll put David’s name on it. One of his names, anyway. He taught me how to sign all of them. I’m stealing some of his money, and I’ll stop by Diagon Alley and buy myself a wand. I don’t think he’ll notice.”

“I don’t think he’ll notice the money, but he might notice when you don’t show up for dinner a few days in a row.”

She shrugged. “I’ll write him.” She paused with her hands in the suitcase. “Do you think I ought to have an owl? I don’t know if I’m really an owl person. I suppose a cat wouldn’t carry a letter, but how about a kangaroo? You know, with the pocket.”

“I don’t know, but I’m sure David would be happy to buy you one if you gave him an excuse, so please refrain.” He sat on the bed next to the suitcase and held up the letter. “You do know I went to Hogwarts, don’t you? Briefly.”

She closed the suitcase and set it on the floor. “I thought you and David were Beauxbatons boys.”

Barnaby winced. “Yes. Although I’m not sure David was authorized to be there, he may just have decided he wanted to go and showed up. If I’d read my tea leaves a little more closely, I might’ve stayed at Hogwarts and left him alone, but I don’t think I would’ve been very happy there. I doubt anyone is capable of bossing you around and I’m not about to try, but I don’t think you would be happy there either, Hyacinth.”

“What? Because of their stupid hat? I’ve got a better one.” She tugged on the veil. “Maybe they’ll fall in love and have baby bonnets. Besides, I don’t care if they put me in Slytherin. I don’t mind being evil. I’ll make the best of it. David does.”

“I think you’re more Hufflepuff material, but it’s not that,” he said. “Do you know they have house elves at Hogwarts?”

“House elves?” said Hyacinth, blinking. “Plural? Just two or lots?”

“Lots,” Barnaby said, nodding.

She began to grin. She clutched both hands to her face and then threw her arms in the air and cried, “Hooray!” She spun a joyful circle. The veil lifted away and her hair flew. “They can’t do any schooling at all if they’ve got multiple house elves, Barnaby! Why didn’t you stay? Were they more annoying than David?”

He sighed. “I never saw them, Hyacinth. Not one.”

She planted both hands on her hips and leaned forward. “Barnaby, I know you’re dumb, but you’re not dumb enough to let multiple house elves whiz past you. Don’t you even remember stepping over their weird art projects? Were they all into transcendental meditation or something quiet?”

Barnaby pointed at her. “You think all house elves are like Tabby and Herringbone, don’t you?”

Hyacinth took off her spectacular hat. “Well, I’m not racist, Barnaby. I don’t think they all paint matadors and do fashion design, but they’re both very single-minded and odd and proud of it. David would only want the best house elves around. Is there something wrong with the other ones?”

“Oh, dear-oh, dear-oh, dear,” said Barnaby. He shook his head. “This isn’t the sort of conversation I’d like to have sober, but Herring basically lives under the drinks cart when he’s not painting, and if we go into the kitchen Tabby is going to dress us and feed us — and I think they’d both be embarrassed to hear me talk about it. Hyacinth, let me sit here and explain about house elves and then if you still want to go to Hogwarts I’ll take you to Diagon Alley myself and we’ll get you a kangaroo. All right?”

She plunked down on the bed next to him and drew up her legs. Her expression was grave. “Well?”

“House elves are,” he began, and then he didn’t know how to finish. He looked up and pointed out the door, in Tabby and Herringbone’s general direction. “Well, first off, they are not like Tabby and Herring! They are quiet. They cook and they clean and that’s basically it.”

“What about in their off hours?”

“They don’t have off hours, Hyacinth!” He shook his head. “They claim they don’t want any. It’s cultural. That’s like an insult. And they don’t want money, and you can’t give them any clothes, that’s like firing them… Only it’s worse than firing them because…” He put his head in his hands and raked his fingers back through his thinning hair. “Let me start again: Hyacinth, house elves are property.”

“Don’t be stupid,” she said. “You can’t own a person.”

“But we don’t treat them like people and they’re fine with it,” Barnaby said. “I mean, Tabby and Herring aren’t — not anymore — but to the best of my knowledge they’re the only ones like that. My family had one as I was growing up and I barely saw her. And I’m the third child, so I won’t get her when my mother dies, my older brother will. A house elf is like a dinette set.”

He shut his eyes. “No, a house elf is like a slave, and they’re happy to be that way. When David gave Tabby and Herring clothes, they were miserable. They were ashamed. And they kept following him around anyway because they had no idea what else to do with themselves. They were like that when I knew him in school, two tiny people in perfect little outfits who lived under his bed and cried a lot.”

“Why did he dress them up if they didn’t want…” She put up her hand. “No, that’s a stupid question. He does whatever he wants, I already know that.”

“They usually wear tea towels and things and he thought they looked shabby,” Barnaby said. “I have no idea where he got them, you know how he is with his stories and they back him up no matter what he says, but he thought they looked shabby so he put them in clothes and they disintegrated. Emotionally. He told them he didn’t want them to leave and he’d take care of them as long as they wanted, but they didn’t believe him. He used to feed them.”

“What, like, with a spoon?”

“No, more like pets. He put plates down on the floor near his bed and every once in a while you’d see a wrinkly little hand come out and take something. The first time I saw it happen I damn near had a heart attack. I thought we had a gnome infestation or something. But he picked up the bedskirt and showed me his house elves. They even had little shoes — I mean, you know what they look like. They live here. But they’re not supposed to look like that. Tabby liked fruit salads. He used to steal them from the dining hall for her, but she’d only eat if she didn’t think we were looking.”

Barnaby sat back on the bed. “I’d known David ten years before Herringbone produced his first bullfight painting, and it was fifteen before Tabby sort of delicately asked if she could have a fashion magazine. And I have no idea how long he had them before I met him!”

“So the ones at Hogwarts just haven’t had enough time,” said Hyacinth. She frowned. “And maybe little shoes. Do they need me to bring them little shoes, Barnaby? I’m happy to do it. Tabby always says a new outfit can make you into a new person, but I thought it was a metaphor.”

“They wouldn’t take the little shoes, Hyacinth,” Barnaby said. “You’d have to force them, like David, and they wouldn’t thank you for it. They wouldn’t even consider themselves yours, so I’m not sure what they’d do. They might all march into the lake and drown themselves out of despair. They are happy being slaves and they don’t know anything else. There’s a reason Tabby and Herring don’t have any house elf friends, it’s not just their taste. They’re outcasts, because the others literally do not understand how they can be that way, and they don’t understand the others anymore.”

Hyacinth tented her fingers against her mouth. Barnaby was aware that he did this himself in his more pensive moods and felt oddly flattered. “So we have to wait until they have children, however long that takes, and make sure the kids grow up knowing they have choices and opportunities and they can go to Hogwarts too,” she said. “I think they all ought to have scholarships, Barnaby. And they should get their parents’ back pay!”

“Hyacinth, this has been going on longer than recorded history. If they do have children, and I assume they must, they end up just like the parents.”

Hyacinth slapped a hand on the mattress. It bounced. “But they live with us!” she said. “Why aren’t they forgetting their culture and picking their favourite bits of ours to copy? Like we stole Christmas and curry!”

“I don’t know, Hyacinth,” he said. ���But nobody’s extremely keen to find out because they work for free.”

“So what we have here,” said Hyacinth, “is an entire race of people consigned to a lifetime of servitude, right up until someone decides to dress them in clothes, and then it’s like they wake up and they have no idea what to do, even though they’ve seen how other people live freely.”

“Yes, rather.”

“And they can, in fact, learn how to live freely themselves, but not until someone dresses them up, then it’s like they’re starting over from square one.”

“Yes.”

“As if they were under a spell,” said Hyacinth acidly. “Not unlike one of those curses that gets you locked up in Azkaban, except nobody does anything about this one because it gets them a free cleaning service?”

Barnaby rubbed his eyes with both hands. “You’ve put it a bit more bluntly than I would, but I still feel badly I didn’t do anything about Hopscotch.”

“This would be your house elf you grew up with?”

“Yes. I mean, to be fair, I had no idea Tabby and Herringbone were possible back then. It’s only since I’ve seen them grow up that I wonder about poor Hoppy, but I’m not allowed to go back and get her. Legally.”

“Because she’s property,” said Hyacinth, practically melting her way through the bed.

“She’s rather attached to my mother too, she does have feelings!” Barnaby cried. He sighed and looked away. “She’s a person with feelings.”

“We’ll wait until your mother dies then,” said Hyacinth, in a matter-of-fact tone that Barnaby found borderline offensive, but not as offensive as slavery. “But Hogwarts owns their elves and they could free them and pay for a good alienist anytime they wanted and they don’t.”

“I’ve written them letters but they never reply,” Barnaby said. “They printed the one David and I sent to the Daily Prophet but they called us both crackpots and sexual deviants.” He laid a dignified hand on his chest, “I am not a sexual deviant. I just don’t give myself airs when other people are.”

Hyacinth picked up the suitcase and threw it on the bed. “Looks like David will be paying for my private tutors at least until I’m old enough for the W.O.M.B.A.T.s.” she said. “I’m perfectly happy being held to a lower standard in education, I have better things to do than school, I just thought I might like a wand and a kangaroo. I’m glad nobody knows where the hell David came from with his money and my family is in no way respectable.”

“Your family is quite ancient and respectable, Hyacinth,” Barnaby said, blinking,

“Those twits at the estate in Devonshire are not my family,” Hyacinth said. “They decided they’d rather be respectable than have a matched set of daughters, so to hell with them. I’m going to go give Tabby and Herring a big hug!”

“Hyacinth!” Barnaby called after her. “If you don’t put on a dress, Tabby will tie you up and stuff you into one of hers!”

“This time, I’ll let her!” Hyacinth yelled back.

[Well, I think that formatted all right! As for the rest of the Hyacinth's House Mob: Barnaby got sorted into Ravenclaw in 1914 and got ejected for cheating - he made it obvious because he preferred the future where he ends up at Beauxbatons, little knowing it would include David. Room 101 broke the sorting hat with, er... his/her/their/it's abilities, in 1931. Mordecai fed a Malfoy a bar of soap on the train, was horrified wizards don't seem to know who Hitler is in 1933, stalled the hat, and fled in terror after being assigned Gryffindor. Sanaam (Ravenclaw, never sorted) ran into the Forbidden Forest to have a look at the animals, in 1950, and never came back. The General got sorted into Slytherin in 1952, contrary to her wishes, and demanded to know why they have an evil house, before choosing to continue her education with her abusive mother. Milo (Gryffindor, never sorted) got dumped in St. Mungo's in 1977, due to his significant issues, because Hogwarts doesn't do special education or accommodate disabilities. Calliope (Ravenclaw, never sorted) chose not to answer her owl for similar reasons in 1978, although her whole family is wacky so they don't parse autism and ADHD as disabilities. Maggie (Gryffindor, never sorted) also chose not to answer her owl after some discussion about the virtues of resisting the system from within versus refusing to participate. Erik got sorted into Slytherin in 1992, and was dragged home by a horrified Mordecai after writing one letter home about how all the "pureblood supremacy" wasn't much fun. Lucy got sorted Ravenclaw in 2000 and got dragged home by Calliope after writing one letter home about how there weren't any art classes. And, finally, in 2006, Dave (also a potential Ravenclaw) did not answer his owl for reasons which will become obvious, but are a bit spoilery for my readers. By that point, Hyacinth's house would have advanced owl defences anyway, so I might've been able to cite that as a quick gag without ruining the surprise.

But I haven't written any of that out for real. I will do so ONLY if you tempt me! I really wanted to do Mordecai's, that one would probably be the longest. "...Oh, I'm only a bit worried because I'm Jewish, that's all!" "What sort of a wizard is that?" "...It's a bit like an Animagus. When the stars are right, I have the ability to turn into a pastrami sandwich." "Let's see it." "Can't, I haven't had my Bar Mitzvah yet. ...Here, have another one of these Muggle candy bars, Mr. Malfoy."]

#fanfiction #tin soldier and soldier on #and reluctantly the wizarding world of harry potter #look just don't give it money and don't give the author free publicity #i can't remove it from my brain or the public consciousness so all i can do is build on it #or refrain from doing so but i doubt i can stop it from doing more damage in any case #not hiding my light under a bushel #but tumblr probably will #house elf liberation NOW

[newt-and-salamander]

Tina: Living with Newt is stressful. He's getting an owl every day.

Queenie: Really? That doesn't sound like a lot of mail to me. And you too are getting letters from the Ministry nearly every morning!

Tina: No, you don't understand. Newt is getting himself a new pet owl every day.

#I bet they all were saved because the standards for keeping of animals in a species-appropriate environment wasn't met #wasn't Newt working for the Beast Division? #forget it I doubt the Ministry has published any standards for appropriate owl keeping #because I doubt there is an owl in the Wizarding World which is living in a suitable environment #maybe when Hermione is done with S.P.E.W she can turn to owl rights #what is this post even about? #newt scamander #tina goldstein #queenie goldstein #newtina #fantastic beasts #fbawtft #fbcog #fbsod #wizarding world

[plant-flwrs]

Can I request a ilvermorny transfer x one of the twins? I think it'll be cool if she wore roller skates to school (charmed by yours truly) since it's the 90s and she's cool but super sweet and caring - maybe when they invite her over to the burrow for the summer or their birthday she can give them a pair? Thanks ily!!!

roller skates // fred weasley 

masterlist!

a/n: ok i always feel bad when my fics take so long to set up and theres barely any like actual romance and i am trying to work on it. i think its hard for me to go into a fic where a relationship is already established, so i like writing them coming together and the immersion of it. but i hate reading fics where it takes forever to get to the good parts so just know that i will be trying to work on that flaw in my writing! thanks so much for reading! (i made the reader from florida just because my mind blanked on any other places that don’t have snow lol, but it’s not really relevant in any other situations so ignore it if u please) also just realizing all of my summaries sound scary and ominous also just realizing how i say way too much in these author notes im so sorry bye

summary: The American transfer student draws attention to herself with her accent, but Fred is drawn to something else about her.

(10.4k hehe sorry :D)

-----

Looking around at the students bustling past you, the only word you could think of was “proper”.

Looking down at your muggle clothes, loose and mismatched, your hair resting naturally, the only word you could think to describe yourself with was “improper”.

A boy with a permanent scowl and striking blond hair glanced your way, and the taller adults behind him followed his eye line. The three of them looked you up and down and their mouths all distorted into nasty grimaces. You felt your father’s comforting hand clasp over your shoulder, trying to help you remember everything he had said to you before arriving at King Cross Station.

“They aren’t that different from us,” he repeated, and you could tell he was doubting himself as he glanced at the uptight children and their matching parents.

He guided you forwards, and you pushed your large cart in front of you, navigating through the crowd. It started to separate around you, and even more odd glances were thrown your way. You supposed you should have felt a little insecure- you looked quite out of place- but the feeling could not overwhelm the excitement you felt. You had read all about Hogwarts, its history, its architecture, and you even picked up a few books about muggle London.

You were stood in your father's embrace, about to board. Your things were stored away, and you heard the train roaring louder and louder. You glanced around, the fathers in their dress shirts and ties, mothers in long skirts and blouses. Their children wore sweaters and jeans, or suit jackets and dress pants.

Something caught your eyes, though; a few feet away there was a large family, mingling in embraces. They all had flaming red hair, and their clothes looked like yours. In fact, your clothes resembled the oldest woman’s clothes, mismatched and colorful. Her eyes watered, and she smoothed down the hair on a fidgeting boy.

“Ronald, hold still!” she shouted at him, and he reluctantly allowed his mother to soothe his red hair down into a part on the side.

Once the woman had moved onto another child, Ronald roughed his hair back to the mess it was before. The woman now clutched a smaller boy, who looked like he was Ronald’s age, by the shoulders. She moved a hand to soothe his unruly hair off his forehead. Your eyes widened when you saw the lightning bolt on his forehead.

The books you had bought about the English Wizarding World did not neglect to mention the boy who lived. Elbowing your father, you both cast glances at the family. Your father nodded his head, looking impressed at the sight of Harry Potter.

“Thanks again Mrs. Weasley,” Harry said, and it sounded like he had said it millions of times before.

Mrs. Weasley waved off the two boys, who went to gather a girl with large bushy hair.

“Come on ‘Mione! We’ve got to get a good compartment,” Ronald said impatiently, tugging the girl's arm onto the train.

Mrs. Weasley was left with four other children. One of them looked like all the other proper British people you had seen at the station, a permanent sneer on his face. He shook his head stiffly at his mother and shook his father’s hand. You thought it was quite odd, and two identical boys standing with the family couldn’t contain their laughter.

“Yes,” one of them started, doubling over in a bow, “good day, mother,” he said pompously, imitating his brother.

“May you have a wonderful few months,” the other started, moving to shake his father’s hand as his brother had moments ago, “I’ll be looking for your owl,” he said, sounding incredibly posh.

The younger girl, with the same fiery hair, began to giggle, earning a scowl from the eldest brother as he boarded the train.

The girl pulled her mother in for a hug, and then her father, and waved to them fervently as she followed after her brother.

“You boys, stay out of trouble!” Mrs. Weasley said to the remaining twins, waving a finger at them.

“We always do, mum,” one said, and it was obvious by his tone that they didn’t often stay out of trouble.

They waved to their parents at the same time, stepping onto the train with a certain enthusiasm.

You averted your gaze, looking anywhere but at the family you had been staring at. You looked up at your father, hugging him one last time. When you pulled back, you heard his name being called.

“Mr. Y/n?” the voice called out, approaching the two of you.

It was Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, and Mr. Weasley already had his hand stuck out to your father.

“I’m Arthur Weasley, I’ve been the one to hire you at the Misuse of Muggle Artefacts Office at the Ministry. This is my wife, Molly. Funny to meet you here,” he said politely, looking at you and your father in a nicer way than any other wizard had during your time at the station. His eyes didn’t wander down to your brightly colored shoes, or your patterned pants, and he didn’t even cast a second glance at your oversized, offensively colored sweater. You beamed at him.

“Oh! Yes, it’s great to meet you,” your father said, shaking his hand. He squeezed your shoulder, jostling you a bit, “This is my daughter, Y/n.”

“Oh, would you hear that accent, Arthur!” Molly gasped, smiling as if she was astonished. Your father chuckled at her reaction. You supposed it would happen to you a lot at Hogwarts.

They both smiled at you, and Arthur offered you his hand to shake. You held your hand out, but the sleeve of your sweater swallowed the limb. You shook the extra clothing away, and Molly chuckled. Finally shaking his hand, you held it out to Molly. She bypassed your hand and began to roll up the sleeves of your sweater.

“Thank you,” you said, and she nodded, accomplished, at you.

“Better get her going,” your father said, and the Weasleys nodded at you.

“Have a good term, dear,” Molly said to you, patting your shoulders the way she had done to Harry.

“Thank you,” you repeated, moving past them and heading onto the train.

You waved one last time at your father, and the door closed behind you.

You wandered down the isles, looking for an empty place to sit. You pretended to look like you knew where you were going, hoping fewer people would stare at you if you did. Your plan didn’t work, and you caught the eyes of almost everyone you passed.

You had made it to the end of the train, and your eyes peered into the last cabin. It was empty except for a girl and a boy. They seemed friendly enough, so you slid open the door.

“Mind if I sit with you guys?” you asked, and the boy looked at you quizzically when he heard your voice.

“Not at all,” the girl said.

She had strikingly blonde hair and gray eyes that poured deeply into you. She had a faint smile on her lips, and her head was cocked to the side.

“I’m Luna Lovegood,” she said, and her voice was light and airy, “This is Neville Longbottom.”

The boy shifted in his seat, casting a shy glance at you. He raised a shaky hand and gave you a curt wave.

You smiled widely at the two of them, glad you seemed to have picked the right place to sit.

The train ride went fast enough. Luna asked you all sorts of questions about America, and you asked her all sorts of questions about England. When Neville warmed up to you, he asked some questions about Ilvermorny. They asked what house you had been in there, and you told him you were a Thunderbird, the soul of the witch.

“Where do you reckon she’ll be sorted into here?” Neville asked Luna. You leaned forwards, curious for the answer.

“Oh, I don’t know,” she said, peering into a magazine she had balanced into her lap, “but if I’m lucky, it’ll be Ravenclaw.”

“Which one is Ravenclaw?” you asked, trying to remember what you had read.

“The wise and witty,” Luna said, moving her robes to show the crest on it. It was blue with a bird over it.

“A raven, clever,” you said, looking closer at Neville’s red-trimmed robes.

“You’d think,” he said, “but it’s an eagle. I’m a Gryffindor, we’re meant to be brave but,” he trailed off, and Luna placed a comforting hand on his arm.

“Oh, stop it, Neville,” she said gently, her gaze back onto you, “there's Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, and Slytherin.”

You nodded, recalling what little you read.

“My dad said he figured I would be a Hufflepuff. The Ministry told him he was a Ravenclaw, he had to do the silly sorting hat and everything,” you said, and Neville smiled at you.

“Hufflepuff? They’re quite nice, I suppose,” he said, sounding disappointed that you weren’t in Gryffindor or Ravenclaw.

“Well, we won’t know for sure,” Luna said, closing her magazine, “until-” but the train’s brakes began to screech.

Her smiled widened, and you looked down at your robes you had changed into. Maybe now people would be less inclined to stare, you thought.

You were right, but only briefly. Once you had gotten to the Great Hall, you were shuffled in with the first years. Your face burned a slight red the whole time, your larger and older stature standing out amongst the sea of younger students. Your name was called, and you heard a faint whooping coming from the table of red.

You glanced at it, seeing Neville lowering a cheering fist from the air. He looked around nervously, and you saw one of the Weasley twins glancing at his quizzically. You smiled at Neville’s support and sat in the stool.

An old and tattered hat was lowered onto your head, and suddenly it began speaking in your ear.

“Hm, very interesting. You’re not from here, that’s obvious,” it spoke quickly, echoing in your skull, “but I think the choice is simple. I’d say,”

Suddenly the voice left your skull and boomed into the room, for everyone to hear.

“Hufflepuff!”

Cheers from a table full of yellow sounded off, some raising from their seats and clapping for you. You beamed, moving off the stool and skipping cheerfully towards the table. You walked down the aisle between the red and yellow, and Neville’s hand stuck out at you.

“Congratulations!” he said excitedly, holding his hand up for a high five.

You hit his hand, and he waved you off.

A girl with a yellow tie and dark hair waved you over. She inched over, giving you room to sit with her.

“I’m Sarah, happy to have you in Hufflepuff!” she beamed, and you didn’t think you would ever get used to the British accents.

“It’s nice to meet you,” you watched her eyes widen at the sound of your voice, “I’m Y/n.”

“You’re American! You must have come from that American school, what’s it called, Ilmorny?” she asked, ducking her head and whispering as the sorting continued.

“Ilvemorny,” you corrected her, still smiling.

Sarah asked you a lot of the same questions Neville and Luna had asked, but you didn’t mind answering them. She had even offered to give you a tour of the school tomorrow, with the promise that you would choose the bed next to her’s in the dorm.

Sarah had lived up to her promise. You walked with your head permanently tilted upwards, admiring the greatness of the castle. Sarah ate with you at every meal and even insisted on walking you to your classes until you knew the way on your own. She had been so nice to you, and when Luna told you about the upcoming Hogsmeade trip, you knew you had to ask her to go with you.

The two of you walked through the snow, wrapped up in matching yellow and black scarves. She had linked her arm with yours and pulled along to all her favorite shops.

The two of you ducked into The Three Broomsticks, sick of the ice sticking to your face.

You saw a red scarf and a blue scarf sitting at a table, and when you saw the flow of blonde hair peeking from the blue one, you knew who it was. You pulled Sarah over to Luna and Neville, and Neville told you to pull up two chairs. You introduced Sarah to Luna and Neville.

“We’re just waiting for Harry, Ron, and Hermione to meet us,” Neville said, smiling cheerfully.

“Oh, should we go?” you asked, offering to free up your chair.

“No, no, stay,” Luna urged you, pulling your arm back down, “I’ll introduce you.”

This was how you were going to meet Harry Potter, you thought, huddled up at a small table, drinking a foamy beverage that left a little white mustache on your upper lip.

Harry was just like every other kid, and he was with the people you had seen at the station that day.

“What did you say your last name was?” Ron asked, leaning over the table so you could hear him.

“Y/l/n,” you said.

“Does your dad work for the Ministry?” he asked, and you nodded, “Our dads work together!” he said, elbowing Harry.

“Her dad is the bloke my dad was raving about all summer, the guy from America,” Ron said to Harry, and Harry nodded at you.

“What a coincidence,” you said, dipping your head to take another sip of the drink Sarah had ordered you.

You all fell into a natural conversation, and Hermione asked to switch seats with Sarah at one point. Sarah had no protests, filing easily into the seat next to Harry, glancing at him dreamily.

“Will you tell me about America? I’ve been to other parts of Europe for holidays, but never America. What’s it like? How different are the wizards?" Hermione sounded off questions like she had them rehearsed, but you were happy to answer them.

You and she were in a fit of laughter after she had told you about her parents’ reaction to her letter. Your eyes were shut, brimming with tears, as Hermione recounted her mother’s jumping up and down.

You were so involved with your conversation with Hermione, you hadn’t noticed Ron’s brothers come into the restaurant.

“Hello, Ickle Ronniekins,” one of them teased, messing a hand through Ron’s overgrown hair, “when are you gettin’ a hair cut?”

“Mum’s gonna cut it all off the second you get home,” the other said, pulling a chair in between Luna and Ron. The other pulled a chair in between Harry and Sarah, and you didn’t miss Sarah’s annoyed sigh at the interruption.

You and Hermione were recovering from your laughter, clutching your stomachs and breathing heavily.

“What’s so funny ladies?” one of them said, shoving Ron aside so he could rest his elbows on the table.

“Just telling Y/n about how my parents reacted to my letter from Hogwarts,” Hermione sighed, wiping a tear from the corner of her eye.

“You’re the famous Y/n?”

“The American?”

Ron elbowed each of his brothers in their sides, frowning at them.

“That’s me,” you answered cheerfully, smiling at them, “Are you Ron’s brothers?”

“More like,” one of them started.

“Best friends,” the other finished.

“He really would be nowhere if it weren’t for us,” they said at the same time.

A smile slid across your face; it was easy to smile around your new friends, you found.

Hogwarts was better than you could have ever hoped. You wrote to your father nearly every week, recounting the amazing things you had done with Sarah, Luna, Neville, Harry, Hermione, and Ron. The seven of you were becoming inseparable.

Luna’s blue tie dangled over your face as you lay on her lap, she was trying this odd head charm she had read about in the Quibbler. Your head rested in between her legs, back on the ground. Her skinny fingers were pressed to your temple, and they hesitantly pressed into your skin.

“Is that right?” she asked, consulting the cartoon pictures that moved on the Quibbler laying next to her.

“I don’t reckon, it doesn’t feel like anything’s happening,” you said, sitting up and rubbing where Luna’s fingers had been.

“Neville,” Luna said, motioning him over. His face grew white as she pulled him into him, moving to where you had been. Luna’s fingers pressed against Neville’s head, and his eyes fluttered closed. Luna began to hum to herself, and Neville smiled.

You crawled over to sit by Ron under the tree. Sarah was talking to Harry, her eyes dazed over as he gently brushed off a leaf that had fallen on her shoulder. Hermione was near, her head resting on her bag, laying on her back with his legs crossed. She was deep into a muggle book you recognized, and you couldn’t blame her for not wanting to put it down.

“Hi, Ron,” you snapped him out of his thoughts, ending his obvious staring at Hermione, “enjoying the weather?”

“Yeah, it’s just about my favorite time of year,” he said, twisting a blade of grass in his fingers.

The snow had melted, winter break had ended. Ron was able to shed his mother's heavy knitted sweaters and wear some of his more comfortable shirts.

“I quite liked the winter,” you said, your head leaning against the tree, “it was my first time seeing snow.”

“Are you serious? Why didn’t you tell us that?” Ron asked, seeming bewildered.

“Don’t know,” you shrugged, smiling at him.

“Hermione! Oi, Hermione! Y/n had never seen snow before she came here,” Ron said, calling out to Hermione.

“I know, she’s from Florida,” Hermione said, uninterested, head still buried in her book.

“Florida? Why didn’t I know that?” Ron asked, feeling out of the loop.

“Don’t know,” you repeated, shrugging again.

“Because you don’t ask, Ron,” Hermione said, sounding unpleased with Ron’s loud volume.

You stifled a laugh, but Ron looked at you, feeling guilty.

“Hermione’s right, I guess,” Ron said, casting a sad glance at you.

“It’s alight, Ron, I won’t hold it against you,” you reassured, and Ron perked up a little.

“Tell me one thing no one else here knows about you,” Ron said urgently. To this, Hermione closed her book and lay it on her chest, interested in what you were going to say.

You thought about it. You didn’t have anything to hide from your friends, but you felt yourself blanking on even the littlest fact about yourself. You tried to think of any special abilities you had, besides being a wizard, or any life events that were significant. The only thing you thought of was the hesitance you had when packing your trunk for school, debating on whether or not to bring your roller skates with you. Ilvermorny had allowed them, and you skated to nearly all your classes. The school's cold granite floors were just begging to be skated across, you had thought, and it was ten times faster than walking.

You thought about your skates, you missed them more than you thought you would. The white boots with slick, black wheels and rainbow laces were one of your most prized possessions. You wondered now, again, if you would have gotten in trouble for bringing your roller skates to school.

“Oh, alright, I’ve thought of something,” you began, and Hermione sat up a little, resting on her elbows.

“I really like to roller skate,” you said proudly.

“Roller skate?” Hermione and Ron repeated at the same time. Ron sounded confused, but Hermione sounded entertained.

“Yeah.”

“Like from the 80′s?” Hermione asked, still sounding entertained.

“They’re making a comeback,” you defended.

“What’s roller skate?” Ron asked, looking between you and Hermione.

“It’s like shoes with wheels on them,” Hermione said, used to having to explain muggle inventions her friend, “You tie them up and you skate around.”

“What do you do that for? Do they go really fast?” Ron asked.

“They can,” you said, “but it’s really just for fun. I used to take them with me to Ilvermorny and go to my classes on them, but I didn't know if Hogwarts allowed them.”

“Why wouldn’t they?” Ron asked, “Are they dangerous?”

“They're not dangerous, I suppose you could fall on them, but it’s not as bad as that Quidditch game you guys play,” you explained, “I just didn’t know if Hogwarts allowed those kinds of muggle things.”

Ron and Hermione nodded, and Hermione looked to be in deep thought.

“I’m sure they would,” she said, returning back to her book.

“What do you reckon they’re doing down there?” Fred asked, looming over George’s shoulder as he held the Marauder’s Map in his hands.

“Do you think Ron’s finally gonna get a girlfriend?” George teased, looking at you and Ron sitting together under the tree.

Fred sneered at his brother. Ever since he had told George he thought you were cute, it seemed George wanted to push his buttons any way he could. He would make jokes about you and Ron flirting, and for some reason it made his blood boil. He hadn’t even spoken to you on more instances than he could count on a hand, but he was enticed by you.

Your eyes were always moving, and they were always wide with excitement. He thought you were beautiful, you were always wearing your muggle clothes when you didn’t have to wear your uniform. You dressed kind of like his mum, he realized one day, but in a cooler way. That’s the word, cool, he thought you were cool. You fit in easily with Ron’s friends, you could talk about anything, and you were always so sweet.

“Where are they going now?” George wondered out loud, watching the names on the map begin to move.

You got up and dusted off your pants, feeling the baggy jean material under your fingers. You helped Ron up, offering him a hand and pulling him off the ground. You, Ron, and Hermione trailed after Harry and Sarah, who trailed after Neville and Luna. You had all been feeling a bit warm outside, so you decided to go to the Gryffindor common room for the rest of the afternoon. You and Sarah were always excited to go to the Gryffindor common room, feeling it was a nice change from yours in the basement.

Fred’s eyes watched as you, Ron, and Hermione walked together towards the Gryffindor common room. He suddenly felt nervous, even though he was up in his dorm with George. He stood, and looked at himself in the mirror. He pulled down at the bottom of his shirt, tugging uncomfortably at the way it clung to his arms. He hadn’t been dressed to impress, and he usually didn’t, but at the sight of your name getting closer to his on the map, he ignored George’s torments and changed into nicer pants and a more flattering shirt.

Harry stepped passed Neville, who had forgotten the password, and held open the portrait for everyone as they stepped through. You, Sarah, Luna, and Hermione occupied the biggest couch in front of the fire, and Neville and Ron took the armchairs on either side of you. Harry sat on the floor in between Ron’s chair and where Sarah had sunk into the corner of the couch.

Sarah beamed at you, taking notice of the small action, and you wiggled your eyebrows back at her. She blushed and leaned over the side of the couch, resting her chin in her hand and starting a conversation with Harry.

Hermione pulled her book from her bag again, reading the pages eagerly. You and Luna sat shoulder to shoulder as Luna began to tell you about her plans for the summer.

“I think I’ll try to learn French,” she said, toying with some sunglasses she pulled from her pocket.

“You’re going to learn French?” you repeated, a smile pulling up your lips.

“I think so, might also help my dad with his plums,” Luna said, turning to you as she slipped on the sunglasses. They overcame her face, entirely oversized and wonderful. They were bright green and had purple lenses that were reflective. You could see your wide and amused smile in them.

“Your father grows plums?” you inquired, always enjoying conversation with Luna.

“Yes, they’re Dirigible Plums.”

“What are those?”

Luna pulled her hair back and showed you a pair of earrings she wore. They looked like little orange balloons, but leaves hung from them.

“Oh, those are very pretty, Luna,” you said, admiring them.

“My dad says they make you wiser,” she explained, “so he grows them in his garden.”

“And you wear them as earrings,” you said, smiling at her.

“Yes,” she nodded and gave you a crooked grin.

“What are your plans for the summer?” Luna asked.

“Oh, I don’t know. My father will be working, so I’ll probably be home all day,” you said, feeling a little lonely already, “I’ll have my roller skates though.”

Luna looked at you, confused, but you were more talking to Ron anyways, who you noticed was listening to your conversation.

“You should come to the Burrow this summer! Everyone does, even for just for a week,” Ron said, standing and moving over to sit on the coffee table in front of you.

“That sounds cool, I’d love to,” you said, grinning at Ron.

You looked around you and felt so lucky, lucky to have found such kind and accepting people at your new school.

Pacing upstairs, Fred smoothed down his hair before ruffling it again and then smoothing it. He knew you were downstairs, and he knew he wanted to talk to you, but you just made him so nervous. He never gets nervous.

George sat with his elbows on his knees, eyebrows raised, watching his brother obviously losing his mind.

“Just go down and talk to her,” he said, a little afraid his brother might explode, “you’re gonna wear a hole in the ground.”

Fred stopped where he stood, near the door. He sighed heavily and nodded.

“Yeah,” he said, swallowing hard, “I’ll just go talk to her.”

Fred recalled the day he had formally met you at the Three Broomsticks. He was smooth, able to mask the way your curious gaze had made his stomach flutter. He couldn’t very well go down there and make a fool of himself, could he?

“Oi Fred!” he heard Lee call from where he stood near Harry, which was also near you, “Come over here a minute.”

Fred sauntered over, forcing himself not to stare at you.

Hermione had put down her book, and Luna had left to go to her own common room to do some homework. You and Hermione sat cross-legged facing each other, playing a muggle card game.

“Yeah?” he asked, stuffing his hands in his pockets and leaning against the banister of the fireplace.

Harry and Lee sat at two wooden chairs near the fireplace, only a few feet away from the couch you were on. This angle allowed him to watch you as your head threw back in laughter as Hermione scowled at her losing the game. His eyes easily flickered back to Lee, who pulled him into the conversation he and Harry were having about Quidditch.

Ginny walked through the portrait hole, returning from some Quidditch training she had been doing. Ginny was taking Quidditch very seriously this year and had taken to exercising on the pitch with Angelina every weekend.

“Ginny!” Ron called out to her, putting down the newspaper he was reading. He waved her over with a hurried hand.

“What?” she said, plopping down on the empty space next to Hermione, “What game are you guys playing?”

You looked up from the deck of cards you had begun to shuffle as Hermione told her.

“Ginny,” Ron said again, pulling his sister’s attention back to him.

“Hm?” she said, and it was very obvious she was tired from her day's activities.

“Have you asked anyone over for the summer yet?” Ron asked, and his eyes flicked to you, “I just invited Y/n, so I don’t want it getting too crowded.”

Ginny looked over to you, her gaze becoming analytical. You raised a hand to wave and cast her a kind smile, and she returned it.

“I don’t have anything planned, it should be fine,” Ginny turned away from Ron and back towards you and Hermione, “When are you lot coming? At the same time?”

You looked towards Hermione, not knowing the answer.

“Oh, I didn’t have any specific ideas yet, Ron’s just asked me. Still have to write to my dad,” you said, and Hermione nodded.

“Yeah, I’m sure it’ll be the usual time for me, though,” Hermione said, and Ginny smiled.

“What’s the usual time?” you asked, beginning to deal the cards to you and Hermione.

“A few weeks before school starts, Mrs. Weasley takes us all to Diagon Alley for our school things,” Hermione said, speaking fondly of the memory.

“Should I ask my dad to come then, when Hermione does?” you looked towards Ron, “Unless I should come at a different time,” you said, not trying to intrude.

“That would be perfect! Harry comes ‘round that time too, so we’ll all see each other,” Ron said.

He looked over at Harry, and upon seeing his brother, he called Fred over the way he had done to Ginny.

“Fred, have you invited anyone home for summer yet?”

Fred’s gaze immediately went to you, and he found you looking at him too.

“Yeah,” he said, pushing himself off the wall and over to Ron.

“Who?” Ron said, curious because his brothers usually didn’t have people over to the Burrow during holidays.

“George,” he said, smirking.

“Git,” Ron mumbled under his breath.

“Why do you ask, Ickle Ronniekins?”

“I just wanted to make sure it wouldn’t get too crowded when Hermione, Harry, and Y/n come ‘round,” Ron said, squirming as Fred forced himself into Ron’s seat that was only big enough for one of them.

Fred’s cool demeanor dropped for a moment, his eyes widening. He quickly recovered, wrapping an arm around Ron.

“How considerate of you,” he said, giving his brother an unwanted side hug.

Ron got up from his seat, leaving Fred to sit by himself. He watched you with unblinking eyes as you listened to Ginny talk about her time with Angelina on the pitch.

Looking down at your packed to the brim suitcase, you glance to the corner of your room. Your pristine roller skates sat there, one on their side. They looked sad and forgotten, but you knew that wasn’t true. Ever since you had gotten home from Hogwarts, you had taken to skating around ‘muggle’ London. You had also just gotten used to saying ‘muggle’.

Your father left early and got home late, and part of you was jealous that he got to see a Weasley every day and you didn’t. To ease your envy, you took to your skates.

You weren’t sure if you should pack them with you for Ron’s house. You were leaving when your father got home for work, the two of you setting off just before dark. You shoved a sweater deeper into your bag, making room for the skates.

Your father was to eat dinner with the Weasleys, sleep on the couch, and set off with Mr. Weasley for work in the morning. No point in two trips, they figured.

You were traveling by Flu powder, and your father went first. He heaved your bag into the fireplace with him and erupted in green flames. You carried a backpack on your shoulder, filled with little things that couldn’t fit in your suitcase.

Fred was more nervous and excited than he had ever felt in his whole life. He was determined to chat you up this summer, at least do something to make sure you knew he existed. He had been pacing in he and George’s shared room, but George pulled him down to the kitchen and made him drink some tea, hoping to calm him down.

You twisted your fingers, looking nervously into the fireplace. You were extremely excited to spend the remaining weeks of your summer with the Weasleys, but a small part of you was scared. You were nervous that Ron’s parents wouldn’t like you as much as they did at the train station. You were nervous that Ron, and his siblings, would get sick of having you around. You were nervous that you would become a burden.

You had been writing with Hermione, and she ensured you of how kind the Weasleys were. She told you that you had nothing to worry about, and you felt a little relieved.

You had visited Sarah a couple of times during the summer. She lived fairly close, close enough for you to take muggle transportation. Her family was welcoming and all had wide eyes at your accent. Thinking of their kindness, you felt confident enough to finally step into the fireplace.

Green flames surrounded you, and within seconds, you were stood in a different fireplace. It was a little shorter, and you were glad you had hunched over a little. Mr. Weasley and your father were shaking hands off to the side, over by a large couch. Mrs. Weasley was looking into the fireplace and waving you out. Ron was trudging your suitcase upstairs already, and Hermione and Ginny stood by Mrs. Weasley smiling widely. You noticed Fred and George sat at a large wooden table near the kitchen both drinking some tea and eating.

You took a step from the fireplace, making sure to wipe off any ash that may have stained your clothes, and allowed Mrs. Weasley to pull you into a hug.

“Oh, so good to see you again, dear!” she said, rocking you back and forth in the suffocating hug.

You didn’t care if you couldn’t breathe, you decided at that moment that Molly Weasley gave the absolute best hugs. She released you, patting your shoulders and running a loving hand through your hair, tucking it behind your ear. You beamed at her, and she smiled back at you.

When she moved away, Hermione quickly replaced her. Hermione’s arms pulled you close, wrapping around your backpack.

“I missed you!” she said, smiling at you.

“I missed you too!” you said, nearly ‘awing’ at everyone’s kindness.

Ginny hugged you too, and when you stepped away, Ron had come back downstairs. You hugged him, and then Harry, and finally you were left to be able to breathe your own air.

The house around you was adorable. It was better than you could have ever imagined. Magic was everywhere, and everything just felt like home.

“You’ll be staying with me and Ginny,” Hermione said to you from her spot next to you at the table.

“Perfect,” you replied, the same awestruck smile plastered on your face since you had arrived.

Fred looked at you from across the table. He felt like his dinner was moving in his stomach, and his hands were sweating. He’d nearly dropped his fork three times. He breathed deep, and when the conversation lulled, he took his chance.

“How has your summer been, Y/n?” he asked, and you looked up from your plate to him.

He nearly died, your happy eyes looking at him.

“Great!” you said, wiping your hands on your napkin in your lap, “I’m glad to finally be here.”

He smiled back at you, and it took him a moment to realize he’d been staring for a little too long, and that you had asked him a question.

“My summer? Oh, my summer’s been good too,” he replied, nodding.

You looked to George, who was next to him and raised your eyebrows, inviting his answer.

“It’s been good,” he said casually, and then an evil grin spread across his face, “but I think Fred’s just about worn my ear off talking about you.”

Fred coughed, choking on his mashed potatoes. His face went red, and he looked at his twin with an anger George had never seen before. Fred quickly looked back at you, as if to gauge your reaction. Your head was tilted down, but a shy smile was on your face and a blush crept on your cheeks.

Fred’s anger subsided at the sight of it, but when George kicked him from under the table, he was reminded.

“What is wrong with you?” Fred asked, nearly yelling at his brother in the privacy of their own room.

“I gave you a push,” George answered, not looking up from the Zonko’s catalog in his hands.

Fred simmered, coming to the realization that George was right. He fell onto his bed, thinking back to the pink on your cheeks and the bashful curl of your lips.

He didn’t know how he was meant to sleep, painfully aware of the fact that you were asleep just a room away.

“Did you hear what George said to Y/n at dinner?” Hermione asked, pulling Ginny into the argument you were having once she got out of the shower.

Ginny shook her head, removing the towel from her hair, “No, what’d he say?”

You rolled your eyes at Hermione as she divulged into every little detail of what George had said.

“And Fred could not stop staring!” she finished, and you let out an exaggerated breath.

“He was not staring!”

“Yes, he was,” Ginny said cheekily, sitting down on her bed.

“Ginny!” you said, giving up hope of having her on your side.

“He totally fancies you,” Hermione said.

Your face twisted for two reasons: the word ‘fancies’, and the fact that she thought Fred Weasley might fancy you.

“He does not!”

Ginny sat on her bed, listening to you and Hermione go back and forth. She knew Fred fancied you, he had since they had been at school. She saw his longing looks, the way he looked at you first after he told a joke, and the pure admiration he had in his eyes any time he looked at you. It especially convinced her when Fred had been talking about you all summer. She came to a decision.

“He does,” she said, watching Hermione’s face change into the proud one she wore when she answered a question right in class. Your mouth hung open.

“What?” Hermione’s gaze turned towards you, and she smiled widely. You liked to think it was her infectious smile that made your mouth turn up, and not the idea of Fred liking you.

“He has been talking about you all summer, I’m surprised Ron didn’t tell you earlier,” Ginny said, bringing the towel to her hair again to catch some dripping water.

“He probably hasn’t even noticed,” Hermione said, the tone of annoyance dripping off her tongue.

Ginny flashed her a sympathetic look, but Hermione ignored it, continuing.

“Do you like him?” she pried, and the whole room felt like it was frozen.

They both looked at you expectantly, waiting for your answer.

You didn’t know. Fred was handsome, and funny, and clever, but you hardly knew him. You knew he was mischievous, and that he tormented Ron, but other than that you might as well have been strangers. You could not deny, however, that he was attractive.

“I don’t know,” you said, honestly.

“You don’t know?” Ginny repeated, confused.

“Yeah, I mean, I barely know him,” you answered, the obvious energy in the room shifting to something of deep thought.

“Do you fancy him, though?” Hermione asked, her eyebrows raised.

“I think he’s cute, yeah, but how can he fancy me? We’ve barely spoken to each other. Are you sure Ginny?” you asked again, still doubtful.

“I’m sure he’s noticed the little things more than you think he would, Fred can be pretty considerate when he wants to be,” Ginny said, and you breathed out loudly. You flopped on your back, the mound of blankets around you and Hermione soothing your landing.

“See? I wouldn’t know that!” you said.

You knew it was a little silly, to focus on something like this. You had an older, attractive, popular boy head over heels for you, but you were harping on the fact that you didn’t know whether or not he was considerate.

“You’re being ridiculous,” Hermione said harshly, “I mean it’s not like you’re forced to marry him. You go on dates with people to get to know them, after all.”

You were nearly offended by Hermione’s tone, but you figured she was just getting irritated on the subject of crushes.

“I know, ‘Mione, I’m just confused by it,” you reassured her.

“Well, test the waters tomorrow,” Ginny said suggestively, wiggling her eyebrows.

You cringed away from her, and swells of giggles were coming from Ginny’s room nearly all night.

The three of you slept late into the morning. The Burrow’s eventful noises were nothing compared to the sounds of muggle London, so you slept peacefully. It wasn’t until something began tapping on Ginny’s window, did the three of you wake up.

“What the-?” Ginny started but soon fell silent at the sound of a loud crashing noise. Shards of glass scattered around the room and Hermione was lucky that she had rolled away from the window in her sleep. You put your hand up, flinching at the noise, and when you dropped it, the warm summer air flooded into the room.

A small golden snitch was soaring around the room, averting every swipe of Ginny’s hands, and ducking behind her dresser.

Ginny slipped on some shoes, and carefully navigated through the glass. She leaned cautiously out of the window, and that's when the screaming started.

“Harry! Are you mental?! What on Earth-” her screams divulged into threats and insults, and you looked over her shoulder, watching Harry hover many feet away on his broom, his face looking quite guilty.

You found your shoes and moved over to the window. You then realized that Fred and George were hovering closer to Ginny’s window, silencing the snickers and amazed faces they wore. At the sight of Fred, your eyes widened, and his eyes met yours. He smiled kindly at you, and before you knew what you were doing, you ducked behind the window, crouching by Ginny’s feet.

You heard George’s laughter, and Ginny’s ramblings stilled.

“What are you doing on the floor?” she asked you, lowering herself to crouch with you.

“I don’t know,” you answered, whispering. Your cheeks were red and your eyes were wide. Ginny’s threatening look turned into a smile.

She began to giggle, and soon enough, Fred and George hovered just above the window, peering into Ginny’s room.

“What are you girls doing down there?” George asked, resting a hand on the part of the windowsill with no glass on it, peering into the room.

Ginny looked at you, her smile wide. You looked around and began to pick up large shards of glass.

“Cleaning up the glass,” you said casually, although you could still feel the distinct burn of blush on your cheeks.

You could only safely pick up two large shards of glass without cutting your hands, so you raised yourself from the ground, meeting Fred and George’s eyes. Ginny followed you, crossing her arms and smirking.

The boys wore their practice robes, their names and numbers on the backs. They both had discarded goggles hanging from their necks, and their hair was wild. You looked between the both of them, swallowing thickly.

“Could you keep it down?” Ginny finally said, trying to ease the situation, “We’re trying to sleep.”

George removed a hand from his broom and glanced at his watch, “It’s nearly 12 in the afternoon,” he said sarcastically.

“Really? Well, we need our beauty sleep,” Ginny said, and you noticed she nearly reached out to close the window.

George rolled his eyes and zipped away on his broom, leaving Fred.

“I’m gonna go get a broom, clean this up,” Ginny said, huffing as she navigated her way back through the glass on the floor.

You and Fred were left there, staring at anything but each other. Fred moved slightly up and down on his broom as he hovered. He finally cleared his throat and looked at you.

“Sleep well?” he asked, eyebrows raised.

You nodded and smiled, rocking back and forth on your feet, “You?”

He nodded too and looked away quickly.

“Oh, I think George, is calling me,” he said, and it was obvious George was not calling him. He flew away on his broom, and you closed your eyes, letting out a restrained breath.

You groaned and threw yourself on Ginny’s bed. Hermione rolled over, a large and entertained grin on her face. You covered your face with a pillow and ignored Ginny and Hermione’s imitations of the incident while they swept up the glass.

Mrs. Weasley was furious to see Ginny’s window. She had come in later in the day, a basket full of laundry on her hip.

“Hello girls,” she said pleasantly, “Do you have- what the bloody hell is that?”

Ginny’s eyes widened at the sound of her mother’s deep and serious tone.

“Mum! It wasn’t us,” Ginny leaped from her bed and ran to her dresser, she quickly caught the snitch from where it had been hiding behind her dresser, “It came through the window this morning when the boys were playing.”

Mrs. Weasley looked at you and Hermione, and you both nodded your heads furiously. She huffed out a breath and pinched the bridge of her nose with her fingers.

Finally looking up, she set the laundry down and stood in Ginny’s doorway.

“BOYS!” she shouted, and you heard the sudden halting of George and Fred’s laughter, and Harry and Ron’s footsteps upstairs silenced.

The sound of four hesitant feet walking to Ginny’s room was the last thing you heard before Mrs. Weasley’s screams burst your eardrums.

The Burrow was crowded now that the boys had been banned from leaving the house. They had only briefly been allowed out of the house to de-gnome the garden, but Mrs. Weasley stood at the door, making sure they had absolutely no fun.

Your suitcase lay open in Ginny’s room, the three of you dressed and having absolutely no ideas as to what to do. You had all already ran through your spending money going to Diagon Alley on your first days there, and without the boys offering some entertainment, the three of you were idle.

Ginny paced, looking through her own things with interest. She twisted her broom in her hands, offering the idea of Quidditch, but Hermione wasn’t interested. Ginny was scanning her room, and her eyes fell on your bag. A pair of white shoes with wheels on them lay tucked away in the bag. She walked over to them and pulled them out hesitantly.

“What the bloody hell are those?” George said from the doorway.

The three of you girls turned, looking to the door. The four boys crowded in the hall, all peering into the room with interest. It seemed they were bored too.

“Are those the roll skates?” Ron asked, mispronouncing the word and shoving past George and taking the roller skate from Ginny.

“Yeah,” you said, your eyes flicking up over the top of your magazine.

The rest of the boys filed into the tiny room, nearly all of them shoulder to shoulder. Hermione rose from her spot next to you, picking up the other one from your bag.

“I remember seeing commercials for these things when I was a kid,” Hermione said, spinning the wheel in her hand.

“Commercials? What are you on about?” Ron said, and Harry caught your baffled look and smiled.

“What are they?” Fred asked, taking Hermione’s seat next to you on Ginny’s bed.

You lowered your magazine and looked at him, only to find him already looking at you. He gave you a crooked smile and nodded in greeting. You successfully fought a blush and smiled back at him.

“They’re roller skates. They’re like shoes with wheels,” you explained, taking the skate from Ron.

You rolled up your jeans a little and slipped on the skate. Fred watched your delicate fingers lacing up the shoe, noticing the way your hair fell into your face as you looked down at them.

Hermione handed you the other one, and you did the same to the other foot. You stood easily from the bed and nearly lost your balance. It was lucky that Fred’s strong shoulder was there for your hand to clasp onto, or else your feet would have slipped from under you.

You looked down at your hand still on Fred’s shoulder, even though you were standing fine. He slipped your hand off but kept it in his hand. You then became aware that you were just holding hands at this point. He stood with you and turned to face you. He pulled your other hand into his, and pushed you away from him, smiling widely as you rolled easily on the hardwood floors.

Everyone knew then that they had found their entertainment for the day.

The sound of joyful laughter flooded your ears as Fred pulled you around the limited space in Ginny’s room. Your hands fit together perfectly, and he walked backward as he pulled you, keeping his smiling eyes on you the whole time. Soon he was pulling you into the hallway, and everyone trailed after. You felt Ginny’s small hands pushing your back, and you began to gain speed. Fred hadn’t caught up, and you were coming closer and closer to him. You looked down but didn’t want to put your toes down to brake, in fear of scuffing up the floor. So, you let yourself fall into Fred’s arms.

The two of you stayed upright, but his long arms were wrapped around your waist. Your hands fell to his chest, and his chin pressed against his neck as he looked down at you. His hair fell into his eyes, and yours fell gracefully in its natural place. You smiled, and he smiled, and soon you erupted into giggles at the silence behind you. George catcalled, and you stuffed your giggles into Fred’s chest, tucking your head under his chin. You felt him take a sharp inhale, and his arms became a little tighter around you.

When Mr. Weasley got home, he was accosted by his children.

“Dad!” They said in unison, all waiting for him by the door.

He jumped at the sight of them all, then began taking off his coat.

“Look at these!” Ginny said, pointing to your feet.

You did a little spin, careful not to make any marks on the floor. Fred watched you spin elegantly, your arms coming out a little like a ballerina.

“Remarkable!” Mr. Wealsey cried, moving to look at them.

Questions came from his mouth faster then you could answer them, and you slid the wheels against the floor under the table while you ate dinner.

“We had an idea, Dad,” Fred said, looking at you proudly.

“Yeah, think you’ll like it,” George added, glancing at you with a smirk and then looking back at his dad.

“We need you to conjure some sort of track outside,” Ron finished, talking with his mouth full.

“A track! That’s brilliant!” Mr. Weasley exclaimed, missing the worried look from his wife.

“It was Y/n’s idea, she’s brilliant,” Fred said, looking across the table at you.

You giggled as George made a gagging noise.

“With what? Stone?” Mrs. Weasley inquired, placing a hand on her hip.

“Oh no, they’re usually made of wood or asphalt,” you explained, “they have a whole building of them in the muggle world. People rent the skates and pay to skate on a big rink.”

Mr. Weasley's eyes widened with excitement, and Mrs. Weasley’s worry tamed.

“Let’s do it tonight.”

The eight of you walked to a clearing on the side of the house. It was where the boys usually played Quidditch, but it hadn’t been in use for days. Mrs. Weasley hadn’t stopped the boys from helping with the track, and you were grateful.

“Hold it higher, Ron!” Mr. Weasley called out, and Ron raised his father's wand with a bright orb of light coming from it.

The track was nearly done. It was huge, a large hoop secured to the ground. There was an enchanted orb of light in the center of the circle, and it illuminated the entire rink.

Your friends watched you blaze around the track, your hair whipping around behind your face, the sides of your cardigan flapping in the wind. You heard loud cheers when you successfully began skating backward.

The rest of your trip to The Burrow was spent out there. The boys were lifted from their punishments, and the rink became the one place you all went to when you woke up, and the last place you were before bed. Soon enough, though, your father appeared in the fireplace with your school trunk by his side. He quickly took back the bag you had been keeping at the Weasley's, and you went through your trunk one last time, making sure you had everything.

This year, walking through the train station, you were still stared at. But you didn’t care because an entire family surrounding you, and they all looked like you.

Your father gave you a lasting embrace before Fred followed you onto the train. He had waited for you, watching as you hugged your dad. He waved to your father, and his hand grazed your lower back as he walked behind you. The two of you found the compartment that had to be the most crowded of the lot.

Lee, Luna, Neville, Harry, Hermione, Ron, Sarah, George, and now you and Fred, packed into a compartment, the entire room filled with busy conversation the entire ride.

It was weird to be in the Hufflepuff common room, your bedroom devoid of Ginny’s huffs as she rolled over to get comfortable, or Hermione’s anxious mumbles she said in her sleep. You pulled your blankets off of you, your legs feeling sore from the constant skating you had been doing for weeks.

Speaking of, you had made the decision to bring your skates to Hogwarts. You slipped them on, tightening the rainbow laces. You pointed your wand at the wheels and cast a silencing charm, so the turn of the wheels would be silent.

You carefully climbed the stairs from the Hufflepuff basement and looked both ways before you skated towards your destination.

Fred had been sitting under his covers, looking over the map as he usually did before he snuck to the kitchens. Out of habit, he looked at the Hufflepuff common room for your familiar name. He was shocked to see you across the castle, in a long-abandoned classroom. He suddenly lost his appetite and slid into some slippers.

He rested his forearm in the crook of the door, leaning against it. He watched you illuminated by the candles lit on the wall. You easily glided between the desks, twisting and turning, spinning, and navigating between them. His eyes followed you, your body moving naturally. He watched the sway of your hips as your wait transferred from foot to foot, the skates rolling against the smooth stone. You moved to the open space in the room, skating backward, your back to him. You turned just a few feet in front of him, and when you saw Fred, your surprise ran through your body. Your feet faltered and you bumped into a desk, making a loud crash.

He jumped from his spot in the doorway, closing the door behind him. He moved to you in two long strides, crouching to reach you on the floor.

“Are you alright?”

“You scared the shit out of me, Fred!” you said, smiling up at him.

“Couldn’t help it, I had to come see you,” he said smoothly, bringing the map from his back pocket.

“What? How did you know I was here?”

He unfolded a piece of paper and held it out to you. You took it in your hands and realized what it was. Before you could look at it for long, Fred took it back, a worried expression on his face.

“Filch is coming, he must have heard the noise,” Fred folded the map and put it back in his pocket.

Suddenly, his hands were on your waist, and he was guiding you to your feet. He looked around the room and saw the door to the supply closet.

With a wave of his wand, the flames of the candles were extinguished and he was pulling your gliding figure to the closet. The door closed just in time, and Filch burst in. You and Fred were pressed together, his hands still on your waist. You opened your mouth to ask him about the map, and one of his hands covered your mouth. He felt your soft lips, and his eyes locked onto yours. You heard Filch’s heavy feet stomping around the room and the screech of the desk against the floor.

Your mind was occupied by the lack of space between you, your back pressed to the door, and Fred’s warm hand on your face. He looked deeply at you, and his face was inches from yours.

You thought back to the day Ginny told you about how Fred felt, and you realized that you no longer had any hesitations about Fred. Standing this close to him, his leg slid between yours, his chest against yours, you felt what he felt. You fancied Fred.

Fred felt your lips curl into a smile beneath his hand. It was dark, so he couldn’t see your face, but he wished more than anything that he could. He heard the door close, and Filch was gone, but neither of you moved. Fred’s hand retracted from your mouth, moving to your neck. His fingers slipped under your hair, and his thumb rested in your jaw.

“Why did you come here?” you whispered.

“I like to watch you skate,” he answered, his voice devoid of any laughter.

“You’ve watched me skate for weeks,” you said quickly, inching your face closer to his, craning your neck to look up at him.

“I like to watch you,” he said without thinking, “I like you.”

You closed the space between you two. His lips were slow, and so were yours. You arched your back against the door, anything to get closer to him. His face was warm, and yours was cold. His lips pressed hard against yours, and the kiss held everything he had felt since he talked to you in the Three Broomsticks. It was all the nights he had ranted to George about you, all the times he had mentioned what little time it was until you’d finally be at The Burrow, all the times he looked at the map just to see your name, all the times his stomach had flipped just at the thought of you.

You pulled away, breathless, and he lowered his head to rest on your shoulder. His breathing was heavy, and your eyes had fluttered closed. He reached for his wand and said “Lumos,” just so he could see your pretty face and swollen lips.

He walked you back to the basement, and you shared another slow kiss. He had almost followed you down the stairs, watching you leave with your skates hanging from around your neck.

The next morning in the courtyard, Ginny was the first to notice.

“What happened?” she said, skeptical of your dazed face and the constant flush you had from just being near Fred.

He sat a few feet away in his own world, avoiding George and Lee’s conversation about the upcoming Hogsmeade trip.

You smiled at Ginny, and she furrowed her brows at you. You were about to tell her, but Ron fell with a thud onto the ground next to you.

“It’s been three bloody weeks and Snape’s already assigned 100 pages of reading,” Ron groaned, pulling a heavy textbook from under his arm. Hermione and Harry trailed behind him, sitting with much more grace than Ron had.

Hermione also noticed your at peace look and looked at you analytically.

You were finally able to tell them in the hall, during an extended period between classes.

“He kissed me last night,” you said with a blush.

“I told you!”

“Finally!”

You hushed them, a bashful smile coming to your lips. Fred passed the three of you, his eyes locked on yours as he walked. Over his shoulder, he sent you a flirty wink. You felt weak at the knees and was glad that you were leaning against a wall.

“Maybe he’ll ask you to Hogsmeade,” Hermione said, tugging you off the wall and in the opposite way Fred was walking. You looked over your shoulder to see him walking backward, watching you walk away.

“Knowing Fred, he’ll probably pull some elaborate prank or get fireworks to spell your name out,” Ginny said, watching you look at her brother.

Fred did something like that, the two of you in the courtyard, laying in the grass. He had pulled you from dinner just after you were dismissed, and he led you to the courtyard. You both stared at the sky, and he looked at you. You met his gaze and then he pointed at the sky.

In huge, shining, red words read “Y/n, Hogsmeade this weekend?”.

You smiled at him and nodded. His hand snaked to cup your cheek still laying down. He pulled you towards him, and you moved to look down at him, propped up on your elbow. His lips met yours, and the sound of more bursting fireworks flooded the air around you.

It was nearly Christmas now. You and Fred have been dating for a few weeks, and he invited you back to the Burrow for the holidays.

You accepted, and you trudged your heavy bag into the fireplace. It was filled with gifts for the Weasley’s, and you were feeling quite confident about it.

Ron, Harry, and Hermione stayed at school for the holidays, leaving you, George, Fred, and Mr. and Mrs. Weasley sat in front of a fire on Christmas eve.

You had called your father on your flip phone he had given you as an early Christmas present. He was coming over tomorrow for Christmas morning, and you felt incredibly content.

Coming back to the couch, tucking your phone into your pocket, you slipped back under Fred’s arm, curling into his side. Mr. Wealsey had already had a go at the device, and he just watched amazed at it fitting into your pocket so easily.

The next morning you were woken up by the sound of your father’s booming voice downstairs. You sat up, stretching, and looked over to Ginny’s bed. It was empty, the covers were thrown aside. You slipped on a large cardigan, pulling it around your cold arms and going downstairs.

You were met with what felt like a dream. All the Weasley’s sat around the table, eating a huge Christmas breakfast and drinking tea. They each wore matching sweaters with their initials on them, and your father was standing with Mr. Weasley by the couch.

“Happy Christmas!” they all beamed at you.

Ginny tugged you over to the couch, sitting on one side of you while Fred sat on the other. Your father stood behind you on the couch, and a pile of presents were stacked in the room. You had brought your presents for the Weasley’s down last night, and you saw them on the ground.

Wrapping paper was everywhere, and the sound of happiness flooded the room. It finally came time for everyone to open what you had gotten them, and Fred went first. He tore away the red paper and held the plain box in his hands. He shook it, holding it up to his ear and smiling at you.

“Careful!” you told him, and he tore away the tape holding the box shut.

Inside, a brand new pair of garnet roller skates. He gasped, his large hands holding a skate up.

“Oh, my-” Mrs. Weasley said, already thinking of the awful thing he and George could do with those.

“It’s amazing!” he exclaimed, wrapping his arms around you.

You returned the hug, and whispered in his ear, “Merry Christmas, Fred.”

Soon, all the Weasley’s were holding different colored skates, even Mr. and Mrs. Weasley.

#fred weasley #fred #weasley #fred weasley imagine #fred weasley request #fred weasley fic #fred weasley fanfiction #fanfiction #harry potter fanfiction #harry potter #hogwarts #hufflepuff #fred weasley x reader #fred weasley x y/n #fred weasley x you

[gone-daddy-gone]

Hogwarts AU: Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4

Pairing: Bully! Sakusa and Kuroo x Reader

Rating: 18+

TW: Rape (vaginal, oral, anal), Bullying, Abuse, Blood, Swearing, Degradation, Choking, Master/ Sir, Double Penatration

Word Count: 13,040

A/N: this is the first of a four part hogwarts series for my october ficlist, here. go into this with the mindset that this is college and everyone is 18+

   You would think in a school full of impeccably talented and gifted wizards that bullying would be outdated. But you would be dead wrong. It was rampant, and it was considered “unimportant”, a thing of the past.  Because the real reason that every wizard came to that school was not to receive empathy, not to receive some sort of validation of your miniscule feelings, it was to learn witchcraft. You only wished the professors would realize that this special flavor of bullying was affecting your academic career. 

   It started on the front door steps of Hogwarts. Actually, it was probably even further back then that, probably on the platform. You were shaking, and your feet seemed to be wrestling each other with each shaky step. Your eyes were twice the size they should be, and they rattled around in your skull as each train seemed to smack them back and forth like a game of ping pong. No, no, no, no not that one. You repeat to yourself over and over again in that noggin of yours. You feverishly tucked your hair behind your ears, common, common where is it? Your parents had given you explicit instructions on where the platform was supposed to be, but you and your stupid family had walked past where it was supposed to be about five times. And the clock was ticking, and the train was going to leave you. You didn’t want to think about how you were going to get there if you didn’t catch the train. That’s when, almost as if cue, two boys with their own owls came bounding down the hallway. One was short with a desperate need to re-touch his roots, accompanied by a much taller boy with jet black hair and smirk that seeped this auroa you had never felt before. You gripped your cart tight, so tight your knuckles were white. These two were your last chance. 

   “Hey! Excuse me! Hey! You two!” You yelled out in desperation.

   The two turned around, the smaller one’s face held a sort of displeasure, almost seeming like he was irate. The other much taller one, seemed almost amused. He licked his lips and eyes you up and down before scoffing.

   “And what do you need?” He didn’t have the accent you were expecting. And you faltered, if only for a second.

   “I...um are you two going to...um…” You suddenly got cold feet, something about their auras repressing your nerve.

   “Are we what? Common, spit it out.” The taller one teased. 

   “Do you guys...know how to get to platform three and…”

   “Three quarters?” This time the smaller one chimed in, and you were almost grateful that it was him and his indifference. You nodded slowly, scared that if you seemed too eager or relieved they might make fun of you for it. The smaller one looked up at his friend, raising his eyebrows and smirking at him slightly. You watched as his partner just nodded his head. 

   “What will you give us if we tell you hmm?” He got real close to your face when he said this.

   “Well...I- I haven’t got any money.” You answered honestly. You watched as his eyes lit up at the ignorance of your words.

   “You have other attributes.” You were mortified and about to say something, anything, call him disgusting, tell him to leave you alone but his friend cut in before he could.

   “Common Kuroo, we’re gonna be late.” He just hummed in response, giving you a little nose scrunch before turning on his heels to accompany his friend. With, quite literally no other option laid before you, you followed close behind them. So you swallowed the bundle of nerves that had accumulated in your throat, forcing those two cinder blocks that had become your feet to move. 

   “What house do you think you’re going to be in?” The smaller one asked, he managed to make  a question sound like he didn’t ask it but his friend was begging him to listen to his thoughts. So they were going to Hogwarts.

   “Slytherin, I mean they are the smartest, most athletic, and most handsome of course.” He said handsome and motioned to his face as if he was trying to prove a point.

   “Right.” The smaller one, who resembled Flan, muttered in response to his friend's narcissism. 

   “What do you think you’re gonna be shortstack?” 

   “I don’t know, do I look like an ancient sorting hat?” His words were funny, but for the life of you, you couldn’t tell if Kuroo was supposed to laugh or take offense. You only laughed under your breath when he did, making sure that it was safe.

   “I suppose you’re right…” He said with a smirk. “Alright…” He said, turning to his friend. “We’re here so...you going to go first?” His response didn’t come in words, but with dirty looks. And a small sigh. Wordlessly sassy. A talent you had to admire. Then he did something that you weren’t expecting, he took a hold of his cart, and ran full speed to the wall. You jumped and clutched your heart.

   “What are you doing!?” You shouted as loud as you could. But that didn’t stop him from barrelling straight on through the wall. You gasped, quite audibly. You blinked a few times, finally shifting your eyes to Kuroo who was laughing at you.

   “Wow, you’re hot but fucking dumb.” He said this backhanded compliment while bending over and grabbing his stomach, while releasing the ugliest laugh from the pits of hell. You took a deep breath, as if you were taking in the strength to respond to him. He cut you off with a small raise of his hand. 

   “I don’t care about whatever you’re going to say. It’s there so the muggles don’t find us. That make enough sense for you, pretty girl? Or do you need me to explain it again, but this time slower hm?” He said, with a slight cock of his head, trying to get a rise out of you.

   “No...I don’t need you to repeat yourself.” You huffed out, hands clenched.

   “Aw...is someone upset? Hm? Did I hurt pretty girls' little feelings? Does she not like being talked down to?” You were looking at your feet now, trying not to give in and make him happy by watching you cry. You didn’t want to cry, but you couldn’t help yourself, you were sensitive. It was a family trait. 

   “Or...do you like being talked down to? Hm? Is it like that? You a little dumb submissive, masochistic-”

   “SHUT UP!” You yelled back at him. “What even is your problem. I don’t know you why are you-” 

   “Why, why, why, awww you gonna cry about it? Do it, I wanna watch you cry.” You looked up to see some kinda sick twisted pleasure in his eyes, the vile in his smile. Having quite enough of this you decided you would just rush past him. So you went for your cart, trying to block out his bullshit he was currently spewing. 

   “Aw, got no backbone? Is my pretty girl sensitive?” 

   “I am not your pretty girl.” You said with as much fire as you could manage. Telling yourself that was the last time you were ever going to speak to him. 

   “Oooh she can talk back? Love it. It's pathetic but keep it coming.” You didn’t give him anymore chances to say anything else to you, running full speed ahead, and barrelling past him. Well, you thought you were going to barrel on past him. His foot had other plans, however. And you tumbled, rolling around until you felt like your ribs were well past cracked. Your cart finds its new home well past the brick and onto the otherside that you wished you were residing in. You move to get up, pushing yourself off by your palms, but you were cut short. Cut short by a sharp heel to the middle of your back, making you feel the concrete pebbles imbed themselves into your chin. You whimpered out in agony, trying to palm around on the floor to push yourself up, but you were pushed back down, even harsher. 

   “Stop...please I don’t even know you.” You pleaded, letting the tears flow this time.

   “No, you don’t...but I don’t really care.” He leaned down, subsequently pushing his full body weight into you. You screamed out in agony. You could swear something snapped. “I don’t know how...someone like you got put into Hogwarts...someone so stupid...and useless. Couldn’t even figure out how to get into her school.” His voice was barely above a whisper, even though there was no one around to hear you two anyways. “I bet you’re a stupid little, useless, Hufflepuff aren’t you? That’s the worst house to be in you know that? Everyone who’s in it never amounts to anything.” You felt yourself clench your hands, there was always a chance that you won’t be that house. But you were. There was no doubt in your mind that you would be. Your whole family was, every single person in your bloodline that stepped foot in that school was placed in that group. “Aw, did I strike a cord?” He leans in, even closer. Making you cry harder. “If I find out...that you’re a Hufflepuff...I am going to make your life...a living hell.” You shot your eyes open, subconsciously your breathing got faster. Because there was no way you would be anything else. This was the beginning of the end. 

   The term saved by the bell has never had a more literal meaning to it. The clock on the wall that had said you were late, was now telling you both that you were really, really late. He sighed, before pulling himself off of you. 

   “Get up.” He ordered, but he didn’t need to. He forced his fingers into your hair and grabbed it harshly, tugging you up like you weighed absolutely nothing. “Let’s go in together, shall we?” You let out whimpered protests, trying to fight his hand, the force of him dragging you towards the wall. Which with your feet practically dangling off of the ground, made it damn near impossible to be dependent on anything but his hand.  With one hand still gripped into your hair, he took his cart with the other leading with it and dragging you behind with him. You watched the world around you go from the muggle London train system to the wizarding world train system. You looked about frantically, but there was no one around to pry him off of you. You looked rather desperately for your cart, to your relief, somewhat at least, it was only a few feet away. 

   “I don’t wanna be seen with you.” You almost felt like telling him there was no one there to even see him when you decided against it when he threw you to the ground near your belongings. 

   “See you during the sorting. Pray you don’t get Hufflepuff. Or do, I know how much you love my abuse.” 

   You clenched your jaw as you watched him hand over his cart to some teacher who had to be at least eight feet nothing. Great. Your first day and you got beat. And you weren’t even inside of the school yet. Before you could let yourself wallow in self pity, you decided that missing the train because of some sadistic bully was not how this day would play out. Getting to your feet however, was another story. You were in a lot of pain, from the fall, to the roll, to the heel that was dug into you mercily. Leaving bruises on your lungs, bruises that every time you breathed were going to be a painful reminder, of what was supposed to be the best first day you had ever had.

   The train ride wasn’t bad. You made sure you sat well away from your tormenter. He was sitting with his little friend he came with, and another boy with jet black hair, two little freckles and a mask covering his face and nose. You tried to flash him a smile to show him you were friendly, but he just stared at you with disdain, like you had done something wrong to him. He was sitting with Kuroo, god knows what he had said about you. It was in your best interest, to not think too hard about it. Luckily for you, there was a seat open with a girl and a boy who were so nice you thought they were fictional. 

 Getting off the train you tried your best to stick with them and not get mixed up in the crowd. The fear of seeing Kuroo again enough to keep you bonded like magnets. They told you to set your belongings down and come into the great hall for a feast. Which you did, still an ever observant eye out for Kuroo and his buddies. You couldn’t find the strength within yourself to tell your new friends that you had been beat just right outside the gate. Then dragged against your will through the gate. For some reason, you felt nothing but shame and humiliation about the incident, even if deep down you knew that it wasn’t your fault. You had done nothing after all. 

   The great hall really did live up to its name. It was huge. Four rows of tables that fit more kids than you ever thought imaginable. That’s not even mentioning the food. There really was a feast like they said there would be. You did try your best to not think about how these people weren’t going to eat it all, and it was going to go to waste when it could've fed a poor family for a month. You were in the middle of a huge bite of a turkey leg when a man who looked like he was about to crumble to dust any second approached the podium in the middle of the front of the room. Seriously this man was around when the dinosaurs went extinct. In fact, he probably cast some spell to rid them from the earth. His beard ran well past his waist, who knew how many secrets that thing held. 

   Dumbledore, you had heard all about the grand wizard from your family. 

   “Hello and welcome new students of Hogwarts!” He sure did know how to command a room. Everyone stopped devouring and snapped their necks in damn near unison in his direction. “I would like to say that I, and the rest of the staff are more than excited to welcome you to this institution where I’m sure you’re going to-” You were trying your hardest to listen but you felt like the side of your skull was being shot repeatedly with a gun. One shot, two shot, three shot, four. 

   They don’t say curiosity killed the cat for nothing. Against your better judgment, against every single bit of your being screaming at you to mind your own business, you looked. First it was a small glance to your left, which held nothing but the bright face of a girl with wild hair, but it was nothing compared to her friend beside her with the brightest red hair you’ve ever seen. You found comfort in their faces, found comfort in your paranoia, but most importantly found comfort in the small victory that was facing your fear and paranoia...Only that feeling persisted, to which you slumped forward and furrowed your eyebrows. Feeling that feeling of victory fade and the dread take its place. Just look right. Just don’t look at all. Just have courage. Just pretend it's not happening. Just, just, just...Very slowly you felt your head act on its own, and you could see more and more backs on the other side. Pretty soon you could see the edge of the table, slowly making your way to the faces…

   “SO!” Oh that’s right, he’s talking. “Without further ado we will start the sorting.” You straighten up and adjust your robes. You wanted to look good when you made your parents proud. The moment of truth. On one hand there was your long standing family tradition, on the other, there was the over looming threat of abuse from somebody you’ve known for five minutes. Maybe you would get lucky and you would get Ravenclaw? Maybe even Gryffindor. 

   “Kenma Kozume!” The room erupted into applause, so you joined. When you looked to the stage you saw the boy from earlier. The abuser's friend. He still had that disinterested face. Like he didn’t care what house he was going to belong to for the next four years of his life. His eyes shifted on you for a split second, and even if it was minuscule, he had a small hint of a smirk. He settled down in the chair, not so eagerly awaiting his verdict. 

   “Mmm, dedicated, loyal, intelligent…” I saw him whisper something, but he was too far away for me to hear. “Interesting... Hufflepuff!” There could have been a whole colony of flies that found refuge in your mouth with how far down it was hanging. You couldn’t hold your laughter inside. What kind of beautiful cosmic karma was this? His best friend is everything he hates, everything he thinks is weak and pathetic. You smiled and watched, getting up from his chair and nod to the table behind you. He must have been looking at Kuroo. Seeing his face was almost as tempting as not getting beat was. 

   “Sakusa Kiyoomi!” A boy came walking from outside of your vision. He walked slow, hands in his pockets, but with that mask that adorned his face you found it hard to believe it was to look cool. The scowl he gave people when they got too close almost confirmed it. He approached the hat, but he stared down at it. He was saying something to Dumbledore, who replied with a confused face. His mask moved up and down so he had to have been talking back. Dumbledore cocked his head to the side a little before shaking his head. The boy threw his head back, his shoulders rose up slowly and shot back down quickly. Whatever that exchange was, he wasn’t pleased about it. He sat down reluctantly, flinching, and you could only imagine was cringing by his eyes once the hat descended upon his head. Two and two made four, suddenly you knew what the argument was about. 

   “Yes...cunning, ambitious...spiteful…” His face seemed to scrunch up further with every word the hat told him was to describe him. Guess he thought otherwise. “Slytherin!” Shouted the old hat. And everyone applauded, and so did you. He rose from his seat taking his leave, but not before giving the old hat a disgusted look. This time he sat at the table directly behind you, which taking in the factor of his sortment, was the Slytherin table. You listened, anxiously waiting for your name to be hollered and echoed throughout the hall. 

   “Kuroo Tetsuro!” Oh great, this guy. He walked with his head held high, a single hand in his pocket and the smallest hint of swagger in his walk. If that wasn’t enough to scream I’m an arrogant prick then what was? He made his way to the chair, and flashed a toothy grin to the audience before flicking his robes out of his way and taking his seat. The hat was placed atop of his head, it was the moment of truth. 

   “Mmm, I see, I see, the strength you hold within you could be attested to a Gryffindor.” He made a face that said ‘try to put me in Gryffindor see what happens’. “But you’re self preservation, determination and cleverness all point me to Syltherin...Slytherin house!” He rose up when the applause erupted, taking a bow even. What was so great about Slytherins anyways? You tried not to look him in the eyes as he approached, pretending there was something far more interesting on your shoes. But his shoes were met with your shoes. You started to shake and felt his shadows descend upon you, leaning in to whisper to you, his vile words were almost blocked out by Dumbledoor calling your name, almost. 

   “If you get Hufflepuff I’m gonna shove my wand so far down your throat I might tear your esophagus.” Still shaking, you slowly looked at him, with those same cat-like eyes and Cheshire grin he had on earlier. Your throat was dry, and it felt like a lump the size of your fist had found its home in your throat. But nonetheless within the cheers and screams of the call, the chanting of your name for you to go onstage for everyone but a single monster to cheer you on; you were paralyzed. He flashed you a smile, a different smile this time, one that was more for the audience of people than it was for you. 

   “Hey, don’t be nervous. You’ll do great I know it!” He even had the gull to pat you on the head, his fingers running through your hair, you flinched on instinct. Flashbacks to when he “helped” you get through the gate ran by like a movie. He leaned down, fingers becoming less like he was ruffling your hair and more like he was going to yank you out of your seat by your hair again. “Get up there pretty girl.” It sounded more like a threat than a request. You nodded, obeying him, and you wanted to throw up. How could you be so obedient to someone like him? Fear really was marvelous. You heard some girls whisper to the side of you. Something about how ‘somebody has a crush already’, and ‘how lucky, she is’. If only they knew. 

   The walk to the chair felt more like you were floating, as if your feet were acting on their own and you were their willing vesile. The blur of faces, arms moving and their hands connecting, something that should have been memorial, something you would remember for the rest of your life was replaced with a bully. “If you get Hufflepuff I’m gonna shove my wand so far down your throat I might tear your esophagus.” You didn’t want to think about exactly what he meant by wand. 

   You took your seat, just like the hundreds, possible thousands before you did. And you looked out into the crowd. Seeing what they all saw. Hundreds of people, all leaning out of their seat, gripping the table as if to add dramatic effect. All those people, (except for one), wanted to know what house you were going to be put in. How you would spend the next four years, with who, and where. With all the support you felt like you could cry, you felt like Kuroo was so miniscule and insignificant with you on that chair like a throne. You couldn’t even see his face from high up here. You were so wrapped up in the thrill of it all you had stopped listening to the hat.

   “Hufflepuff!” 

   You had stopped breathing. Stopped thinking. While time had stood still for you, everything around you was still in motion. The clapping cheering seemed like a bunch of blurbs and gobbled noise. Like when you’re underwater and you try to talk to your friends like your mermaids. Or like how he adults talk on Charlie Brown. You looked into the crowd, and your eyes were drawn to him like a magnet, he had another smirk on his face. He leaned his head down a bit and it casted shadows all over his face making him look even more wicked and evil. Who would've thought that possible? Certainly not you if you had not seen it yourself. You must have been staring for too long because you felt a warm breath followed by a withered voice ushering you off stage. You turned and it was Dumbledore, with his kind old eyes. You stayed for a second longer, staring, silently begging him for help. But if telepathy did exist, it did not happen for you and him. He just kindly looked at you and nodded in the direction of the Hufflepuff table. You swallowed some spit that seared your throat open, eyes cast down to your feet as you sat by yourself. The rest of the sorting went by in a blur, you barely looked up from your table. You didn’t have to to feel three pairs of eyes on you. 

   Kuroo had kept his promise. You were walking behind some upperclassmen Hufflepuffs, hoping that they would camouflage your smaller self. The thing was you weren’t friends with them, so if someone was to grab you by your hood and pull you into a dark alleyway, no one would notice. Not them, and not any of the passing students cackling and gossiping, a particularly familiar voice telling a boy named Harry about the correct way to say a spell. You were thrown to the ground, and you didn’t need to look up in the dimly lit hallway to know who it was. 

   “There you are my pretty girl.” He purred out. You clenched your hands, and found the courage to look upwards towards him. But it wasn’t just him, in fact it was them. There were three people there. Kenma, Kurro at the lead, and a little behind about two inches away from them and about five or six away from you was the other Slytherin, Sakusa. 

   “Don’t call me that…” You whispered meekly. It sounded more like a request than a demand. Like you weren’t so sure you even wanted him to stop.

   “What was that pretty girl?” He said in a tone that sounded irritated, like he was on the verge of snapping. You decided against replying to him. Keeping your eyes low and focused on Kenmas feet. His pants were a bit too big for him and were getting caught on the ground. 

   “That’s what I thought.” You didn’t have to look to know that he had dawned on a smirk. “Have you been avoiding me? I’ve been looking for you ever since the sorting.” It was true. You were trying to avoid him at all cost. You had gotten three solid days of not having to speak to him or deal with his abuse. Since you two were both first years, you were in all the same classes. So he did see you every single day, for most of the day. But he sat in the back with Kema and Sakusa. Most of the time there was another boy with spiked up hair, and a small highlight in the middle. He wasn’t there during this sneak attack. 

   “We...aren’t in the same house…” You muttered. True. But that wasn’t the real reason. The real reason was you ran out of the classrooms and attached yourself to any pack of Huffflepuffs, or Gryfindors if you couldn't find any Huffepuffs. 

   “Oh I know pretty girl. Do you remember what I said before you went on stage?” You swallowed, feeling tears fall from your face as you nodded timidly. “So you aren’t as dumb as you look.” He teased. “Sakusa, Kenma-” He barked at the boys behind him. “Hold her still.” You shot your eyes up to look at them. You gave them the best pathetic eyes you could muster. Silently pleading with them to not aid him in his assault. The curly haired, masked boy held even colder eyes than Kuroo and stared back at you like you were nothing but a sack of meat and bones. Not a conscious human being. Kenma looked at you for a split second, but turned his eyes away from yours. He must have had some moral compass even if it wasn’t strong enough to help you out of this situation. You started to scoot back. Shaking your head no letting out little “please” and a few “don’t do this”. But that didn’t stop them from reaching your body and putting their hands on you. Kenma grabbed one side of your arm while you flayed around, trying to hit and push him off of you. He dogged your badly aimed hits easily. Sakusa grabbed the other arm and pinned it against his body. You began to yell for help and kick your legs around, your last ditch effort to try and get yourself free. You kept kicking and even headbutted Sakusa in the nose. The sound was heard before you felt it. It rang loud and echoed in the little alleyway. Then you felt the sting, realizing what had happened. You turned in the direction of Sakusa who was just staring at you, a red spot forming underneath his mask. 

   “Please…” It sounded less like a word, too mixed in with your sobbing and horridious breathing. You watched as he reared back his hand and smacked you again, causing you to cry out in pain, spurring you to squirm again. He put his knee into your thigh leaning his whole weight onto it. Kenma mirrored in his actions, forcing his knee and body weight on your other thigh. You let out another sob. 

   “Please you’re hurting me!” Sakusa chuckled before smacking you across the face again, and again, and another time as if to say “third times the charm”. His fingers found their way into your hair as he yanked it back, you felt something drip from your nose. You watched through teary eyes as he slowly lowered his mask, revealing his full face for the first time. He did have blood on his face. He looked down and saw it. You realized that you had royally fucked up. He let go off your hair, but you were stuck in place, frozen in fear. His hand touched the blood.

   “You stupid bitch.” You whimpered and tried to wiggle away further. But it was no use. You were pinned down. You watched in terror as he wiped off his own blood with his hand. “You stupid disgusting bitch.” He took his palm, blood and all and repeatedly smacked you in the face. Ignoring your whimpers. He looked like he was a monster. Nothing but fury and anger, either side of your face stung so bad you knew they would be bruised and quite possibly bleeding. What made it worse was you weren’t sure where your blood stopped and his bloody hand prints began. He wiped the last of his blood off of his hand, pausing before his hand met your face one more time, and he smiled. You didn’t like that smile, didn’t like what it implied. He plumped up his lips like he was going to kiss you, if only it was that sweet. He smirked, lips still puckered before he spit on you. A flying disgusting glob of saliva landed near your eye, splattering some of his DNA into your eye. You closed it shut, but you could still sit still and watch as he smeared his blood all over your face. Mixing your blood with his, and his saliva. He looked at his hand one more time before giving you a final smack for good measure. 

   “Lick it off.” He said it so casually you blinked a few times before you let it set in.

   “What?...” You whispered, making sure you heard him right. 

   “Don’t make me repeat myself.” He said this while he raised his hand up in a silent threat.

   “Ok! Ok please...don’t...no more.” You let your tongue fall out of your mouth and he held out his hand for you, expectantly. You did as he asked, letting your tongue slide up and down his palm, to his fingers. You cringed at the irony taste. The fear of getting hit again greatly outweighed your disgust. You went to his fingers again, trying to clean them off so you could stop this degradation. But unexpectedly, he stuck his fingers in the back of your throat. Pulling them in before shoving them back out. 

   “Suck.” You looked at him, and the look in his eyes told you not to protest. So you did as he asked sucked them clean. “She’s so obedient Kuroo.” His voice was breathing, almost to the point of sounding like he was moaning. 

   “She sure is...my pretty girl.” You cringed at his words. Why was he so insistent on calling you that name. “Are you done Sakusa...it's my turn.” You almost wanted to stick with Sakusa more than Kuroo. You inspected your face, and his fingers in your mouth. 

   “Yeah...she cleaned them off pretty well.” He pulled them out of your mouth with a loud ‘pop’. He shook off the saliva. “Disgusting whore.” 

   “Agreed.” Purred Kuroo as he took a few steps to tower above you. You looked up at him with one eye, waiting for what he was going to do next. “You look so pretty like this.” He reached into his back pocket and pulled out his wand. He really wasn’t joking about the wand thing. You were just grateful it was his literal wand. 

   With a pitiful look, your eyes met his. “Please...I...I just want to go to class...I won’t tell anyone I promise!” 

   “Shhh shhh shhh.” He put the wand to your lips. “I know you won’t…” He squatted down so he could be face to face with you. “Because you’re a good little girl who knows she deserves this for being so pathetic right?” You didn’t say anything, you weren’t so sure he wanted you to say anything. “See? I knew it. Now open wide-” He grabbed your jaw and squeezed is with every bit of strength his fingers had in them to force them open. “And let me know how much you can take.” He slowly slid his wand down your tongue, making his way even further into your throat. 

   “It’s a lot Kuroo, she’s a real slut.” Kuroo’s lip curled up as the wand went past your uvula. 

   “She sure is...useless, and whore...have you no shame?” You whimpered and were crying, tears mixing in with the blood spread around your face. His fingers were about to kiss your lips when he heard the chime that indicated class was about to start. He halted his actions and sighed.

   “Kenma, hand me your polaroid.” Kenma complied, taking out a classic looking polaroid that was decorated in stickers from video games. Would of been cute if he wasn’t actively assisting in your abuse and borderline sexual assault. “Say useless!” You didn’t bother indulging him further as he snapped the picture. “Wow, can’t even follow a simple instruction. You really are a dumb whore.” He retrieved the photo from the opening and gave a once over. “Come on guys, we’re gonna be late for class.” They let you go and you slumped forward. Using your arms to wrap yourself up, trying to cover yourself. You felt dirty, disgusting, wanting nothing more than to wash everything off yourself. The two of them get up, walking towards Kuroo. Sakusa stopped suddenly, putting on hand sanitizer and retrieving a fresh mask. He put it on and kept walking before he stopped again. He lowered his mask to reveal another smirk slowly stalking his way towards you. He made that same kissy face at you and you flinched away ready to take it lying down. You heard it before you felt it, the sticky substance sliding down your face and onto your chest. He left you with the final parting words. “Whore.” 

   They all left, snickering and pushing each other around as if they had just got done with a friendly game of Quidditch. While you laid there shaking. Throat aching. Ashamed. You stayed there, you weren’t sure for how long. But it had to have been a while. You missed class by the time you stumbled out of the alley way. You decided against going to class for the rest of the day. Deciding a shower and a mountain of blankets were the best cure you could think of for now. But not even sleep was kind to you. You had nightmares of the boys chasing you around, beating you and doing other unsavory acts to you. Eventually a concerned teacher came in asking why you weren’t in class. When you didn’t respond they became very worried. Even going as far as to shake your body checking to see if you were still breathing. You looked up, and the tears just seemed to have flown by themselves. Like your eyes were a damn and their kindness was the thing that broke it. You sobbed into their arms, shaking violently as they rubbed your back. When you had finally cried yourself ragged, you finally found your voice. 

   “I...I was bullied.” The reaction you got was sympathetic, but not what you were expecting. They told you that they understood, that they were listening, that they cared. So if that was true why were they telling you that wasn’t a good enough reason to skip class. They told you that if that was the case that perseverance was the answer not self pity. They had said some more things but you had blocked them out at some point. Hearing nothing but Kuroo’s words accompanied by a faint ringing in your ears.  “She sure is...useless, and whore...have you no shame?”

   “Do you understand what I’m saying?” You didn’t. “Yes.” You were more docile than you thought you were. 

   “Do you wish to come down for feast?” They said that smiling and rubbing your arm, as if that would make you feel better. As if they were on your side. 

   “I’m not hungry.” They moved to say something but you went to speak before they could. “I’ll be at classes tomorrow. Please...I’m just not hungry.” They nodded and smiled. “As you wish.” They left, leaving you sob in the dark while those monsters got off scot free, eating and joking with their friends as if they did nothing wrong. 

   It only got worse from there. Somedays you would get off scot free. Other days you weren’t so lucky and Kuroo would slam you into a wall, forcing you to beg for him to do things to you that no human should do to another human. If Sakusa found you he would grip your hair in his hand and force you on your hands and knees, making you lick his shoes. Kurro liked to make you try to suck him off through his trousers. The whole time telling you how much you deserved it and how your pussy was probably wet and throbbing with need. Some days when he was feeling crueler than others and would force his foot up your skirt and swirl around your pussy with the tip of his shoe, not so gently. The sick part is, sometimes he would accidentally rub your clit causing you to moan, which in turn made him degrade you further and slap you silly because “You like this you probably like abuse too.” One time, Sakusa had found you hiding in a closet. Hiding from him. He didn’t need to ask to know. He instructed you to get on your knees and take off your panties, by this time you were used to doing what they wanted you to do to avoid a whole lot of your blood being shed. You did so, and watched as he pulled out a ziplock bag. 

   “Put them in here. Then grind yourself on my shoe till you cum.” You put your panties where he told you to and handed them back. You lifted your bottom off of your floor so he could place his foot below your slutty hole. You didn’t push yourself back down, halting yourself for a second.

   “What if I just suck you off...please don’t make me do something so degrading…” It was stupid to think that he would give you any hint of mercy. He smacked you cross your face, maybe that would knock some sense into you. 

   “That’s not what I told you to do slut. And just for your back talk, and because I like the idea. You’re gonna get me off too.” Tears came naturally to you now. You pulled him out, and he was huge.

   “I want the whole thing inside of your mouth. Don’t give me any of that choking shit either, I know how much a cock whore like you can actually take.” You nodded, picking up your lips to take him in slowly. Doing exactly as he instructed you to do. 

   “Move your hips. Now.” You nodded as best as you could, and moved your hips while pulling your head up and down on him. It felt like forever but you finally exploded on his she, moaning out onto his cock. He moaned even louder and grabbed both sides of your head, forcing you to stay there. He let one side go and gripped as harshly as he could with the other, his hand that let you go found Kenma’s polaroid. 

   “Look at me.” He commanded. And you did, teary eyed and scared. “There, that’s the look I like.” He snapped a picture. The flash temporarily blinded you, making you feel disoriented, it didn’t help that he fucked into your face with a speed and force that was enough to make you choke and beg with your eyes for air. He didn’t stop though. If anything he kept going until he held you still against him, cock all the way down your throat, straically pressing you against him so you couldn’t breathe. You pounded at his hips, begging him for mercy. He didn’t relent. He took out the camera again. “Say cheese.” He took a photo right at the moment he came in the back of your throat. “Hold still I’m not done.” He removed that one and took another one of your panicked face, now becoming purple from lack of oxygen. “That’ll do.” And with that he shoved you off of him, letting you take in as many greedy breaths you could before he ordered you to do something else. Which was to tuck him back in and say thank you. 

   As far as Kenma was concerned. He wasn’t involved in the abuse you suffered. In fact it seemed that he was slowly distancing himself from his friends. Finding a new friend within your own house, Nishinoya. The boy with a highlight in his hair. You tried your best to avoid Kenma. But, it seemed like he didn’t have the slightest interest in tormenting you like his best friend did. Which was more than welcome. 

   There was the ball. You didn’t go with anybody, but dancing to music in a crowd of people was far more safe than roaming the halls, or staying in the library. You shuddered at the thought of being caught studying by Kuroo. He was one of the smartest students in the whole school and made it his point to tell you how hopeless you are. 

   Which is what led you to be sitting there, holding your knees together with your hands, eyes to the floor too scared to see if Kuroo or Sakusa was waiting for you to get up. You heard footsteps approaching you and you couldn’t help but start to shiver. Was it too late to run to the bathroom? Would it just be easier to assault you in a bathroom? Maybe if you just didn’t get up you could get whoever it is to leave you alone. They couldn't make you do anything with all these people around. He can’t drag you out by your hair. He can’t he can’t he...Then the shoes were there before you could even make a decision. 

   “Hey…” You weren’t so sure if you were to feel relieved, or terrified still. It was Kenma.

   “Hey...um...are you all by yourself?” What was he playing at?

   “Yeah...I don’t want to be...alone in case…” You stopped, you weren’t sure if you could tell him why. You were sure he knew why, but you couldn’t find the words to tell him. Telling him his best friend gets off on bullying and assaulting girls just felt wrong. Even if he knew he did...Even if he participated in the assault.

   “You don’t...have to say I understand…” He sounded sorry. You hope the guilt keeps him awake at night. “I uh...I’m sorry about what I did...and I’m sorry on Kuroo’s behalf...he’s never been good at…” He stopped. Maybe he figured that apologizing for the abuser was ridiculous. Sympathizing with him even, looking for any reason to validate what he does.

   “It doesn’t matter...I am truly sorry for what I did...and I get it if you want to say no but me and some of the other Hufflepuffs are…’tearing up the dance floor’, as they say.” He said that last part with a bit of an airy chuckle. It was cute. You must have been smiling because he kept going.

   “I know we aren't as cool as your friends right there and there.” He motioned to either side of you to the empty chairs. That one got an actual laugh out of you. “So I get it if you’re busy…” He said this with a small smile, the first time you’ve ever seen it. 

   You weren’t so sure if it was the isolation talking; nobody wanted to be around somebody who was a personal punching bag for the captains of the Slytherin Quidditch team. Or if it was all the times of taking blows to the head from Sakusa. But his offer for friendship was tempting. It was the only bit of kindness you’ve had since the first day of school. 

   “I’m gonna go back to-”

   “Wait!...I’ll...I’d love to…” You extended your hand for him to take with a bashful smile. He gladly took it and rose you off of your feet. You two walked in silence in the direction of Nishinoya and a bald kid dancing around a rather beautiful girl with long black hair. But that spectacle was nothing compared to the group of three all dancing on each other. It was a Gryffindor male, you knew him because he was one of the best Quidditch players Gryffindor ever saw. He was sandwiched in between a very cute Hufflepuff girl, she was the girl that sat with you on the first day but the boy was nowhere to be seen. He seemed to have been replaced by this Ravenclaw boy who was head of the chess team, but his house buddy was also nowhere to be seen. The three of them were all giggling and somehow sexually but not sexually grinding on each other. You couldn’t help but smile at it, at least someone was having a normal college experience. 

   “Hey wait...what about...what about Kuroo?”

   “What about him?” He asked this with this edge of defensiveness.

   “Is he ok with us being friends?” It sounded dumb coming out of your mouth, but you held your ground. 

   “I’m sure he won’t care...and besides we may be best friends but uh...he likes his house mates more nowadays. And I kinda wanna hang out with people who don’t...do what he does ya know?” You really don’t know because you’re the victim of  said abuser. “Anyways...if you’re with me he won’t bother you.” You smiled a bit again. Feeling relaxed and safe in your new found friends. You lost yourself in the music, the wizard version of Shakira playing over the speakers. 

   Ever since that night, Kuroo and Sakusa have been getting you alone less and less. With Yachi always at your side during class, or Kenma letting you be his partner in class so you have someone to stay with you in the library or get you out of the abuse with Kuroo and Sakusa. 

   One time Sakusa was having you lick his shoes clean, pulling out his dick to either jack off on your face or have you get him off when you heard Kenma call for you. He said that you two needed to get your work done, tone flat and unalarmed as ever. Sakusa narrowed his eyes before tucking himself back in. Giving you a swift knee to the face, and when you bent over to grab your now bleeding face a swift kick into the stomach so hard you lost your breath. Writhing and rolling around on the floor like a freak. He laughed in your face.

   “Have fun with her Kenma.” And he left. Kenma picked you up off the floor.

   “Let’s go get you cleaned up.” 

     It was a nice gesture. The bare minimum but better than nothing.

   Flying high on your new found security you strolled into class and sat with Yachi and her boyfriends. That’s right, those two boys she was dancing with? Those were her boyfriends. Girl had some game you had to admit. And you couldn’t fully blame those boys. She was one of the prettiest girls in your year. Kageyama had his arm wrapped around her and it reached all the way to Hinata. Hinata had his hand in between Yachi’s legs, resting on her upper thigh. He was kind of a horndog. Kenma was sitting with Nishinoya who was rambling furiously about something while Kenma looked at him with his hand on his face and eyes drooping. He yawned for dramatic effect. Kuroo and Sakusa were in their corner, eyes on you burning holes to the back of your head as they usually do. You had learned to avoid that entire section of the classroom. 

   “What are we learning today?” You asked the throuple.

   “Uh...I think we’re doing-” Hinata began before getting cut off.

   “Today we are going to learn the Riddikulus spell!” Hollered the professor. 

   “The Riddikulus spell.” Replied Hinata with a snicker. It made the four of you laugh. 

   “Now, who could tell me just what the Riddikulus spell is?” The girl with curly crazy hair you saw on the first day was the first and only to raise her hand, like she always is. Her name, you learned, was Hermione. 

   “It’s a spell to defeat a Boggart.” She said confidently. You turned to the professor to see if she was correct.

   “Yes, that’s exactly right!” Figures.

   He went on to demonstrate by releasing the Boggart, it transformed. “Now, don’t be alarmed students. Just make it into something funny! Riddikulus!” The horror that once was, was now a monster on roller skates in a coconut bra. That caused the whole class to erupt in laughter. 

   “See kids, not so bad! Line up let’s go!” 

   The whole class stood up and formulated a neat line, you were behind a few people, but near the front. You watched as kids fears of spiders, snakes, and on one odd occasion, Snape showed up. Next up you watched Kageyama go and his greatest fear was failing, so it was Dumbldore and Aakashi, Kageyama’s house mate telling him how he lost the championship and would never amount to anything. Until he said the magic words and they started rambling about drinking tea in Wonderland. Yachi was the last person before it was your turn, and she feared tall people. Kind of an oxymoron because her boyfriend had to be about six foot two. Nonetheless, a man taller than Hagrad came out and towered over Yachi, telling her about how he was going to eat her. She froze and shook with fear, her knees were wobbly and begging to give out. Unexpectedly she wiped that fear off her face, pointing her wand up high and yelling out “RIDDIKULUS!” It was beautiful and you were so proud of her. The giant began to dissolve into a tiny little fairy that flew about the room kissing everyone's cheek. Sakusa almost killed the poor thing. 

   “Ok, ok, ok, no need to kill the only Boggart I own Mr. Sakusa. I still have this class and others to get through still.” He teased, and Sakusa rolled his eyes as the class erupted in laughter.

   “Alright, alright your turn little miss!” He pointed to you and flashed you a toothy grin. With a deep breath, you relaxed your shoulders and focused on the door to the wardrobe. 

   “Think of what scares you the most.”

   “If you get Hufflepuff I’m gonna shove my wand so far down your throat I might tear your esophagus. Get up there pretty girl. Open wide and let me know how much you can take. Pretty girl. Whore. You deserve this. You’re pathetic.” It played over and over in your head like a broken record. He was your one fear. 

   “Hey there pretty girl.” You swallowed when his large hand gripped the outside of the door, pushing it open slowly. “Who’s my good girl? Come here…” He motioned you forward with his fingers, with the other he slowly began to undo his belt. You heard whispers of confusion from all around the class. ‘Isn’t that her boyfriend?’ ‘Why would she be afraid of him?’ ‘I’m sure she’s just scared of sex’...It was hard to listen to the group speculation on whether you had been sexually assaulted or were just scared of the thought of being assaulted. Your ears were ringing now, as Kuroo had his belt wrapped around his hand, closer than ever now. Hand just a mere few inches away from your face. “Who’s my good girl?” 

   “RIDDIKULUS!” The Boggart Kuroo was beginning to turn into an old woman, his fingers growing long and yellowy. His Hogwarts uniform now turns a long pink frilly dress, accompanied by a pair of heels and a designer purse. 

   There was silence. A long kind of silence. The kind that you could cut with a knife. And you were the first to break it. It started out small, more of a snicker, but the longer you stared at him like that the funnier it got. As if laughing was permission to, the rest of the class cracked up and laughed. You heard some whistles in the back. Kageyama shook his head smiling, trying to keep his laughter in. Draco called out “You should wear that more often it’s your color Kuroo!” Draco might have been a dick, but he was funny. 

   “Alight, alright, alright, settle down guys.” The professor was trying, and failing to get the class to be quiet. He wasn’t very commanding, as he himself was laughing. He was trying to hide it so you had to give him that. But he was still laughing nonetheless. Fist clenched, covering the little up curls of his mouth. “Guys! I am serious it is not that funny!” Tell that to your face. You might have had the strength to face Boggart Kuroo, but you didn’t have the strength to face actual Kuroo. If you did you would have been greeted with the most evil look in a human being. Pure unadulterated anger staring back, nothing but ways to make you suffer behind those eyes of his. 

   “You gonna take that?” Sakusa asked, but he didn’t have to. He knew what was going to happen to you. 

   You ran out of the class before anyone else, you didn’t want to be around Yachi and her boys since they like to lollygag. After that little incident, you could only imagine what Kuroo was going to do once he got his dirty hands on you. You kept looking back over your shoulder, keeping your feet shuffling one after the other at the fastest pace you could manage without getting in trouble for running in the halls. 

   “Hey!” You turned around and it was Kenma, to your relief. “That was...pretty cool. That you faced your fear and stood your ground I mean.” 

   “Oh.” You said, relaxing a bit enough to flash him a smile. “Thank you…” 

   “Of course man...uh, take back the power I guess.” He sent you a smile back before raising his fist up for you to give it a little bump. Take back the power.

   You were eating in the hall with Yachi and her boyfriends, who were currently arguing over who was better at his muggle sport called Volleyball. It was pretty entertaining. 

   “Listen you would be nothing without my serves, shrimp.”

   “Ok babe, sure whatever you wanna tell yourself.”

   “Control your man Hitoka.”

   She smiled, rolling her eyes. “He’s your man too babe…” She looked to you for backup.

   “Hey, I am not involved in this!” You giggled and threw your hands up.

   “Oh my god don’t leave me out here all by myself!” You giggled more but you were interrupted.

   “You’re the one that decided you would date them.” Kenma said as he sat down. 

   “He does have a point.” You said

   “Yeah Yachi, why would you date us if you hate us so much!” Hinata teased, wrapping his arms around her waist.

   “Baby, that’s so mean why would you say that about us.” As if Hinata grabbing her was a silent signal, Kageyama hands found his way to her sides and started tickling her.

   “Stop! Stop! Stop! Stoooop! That’s not what I said!” She was hysterical.

   “Ohhhh stoooop she says!” Hinata said, mocking his girlfriend.

   “Stooooop!’ Kageyama chimed in. You and Kenma watched in awe, you’ve never seen a group of people love each other as much as they did to each other. 

   ��Hey.” Kenma whispered out loud enough for you to hear. “I wanna show you something.” You gave him a look, eyes still forward as Hinata was now blowing raspberries on her neck. 

   “What is it?” 

   “It’s a surprise.” You turned to him. He only looked at you once you did.

   “What kind of surprise?” He gave you a look before getting up, holding his hand out for you to follow him. You gave him a small side eye, debating on whether to take it or not. You took one final look at the threesome. Hinata currently had his lips sucking on Yachi’s neck, while Kageyama had his hands resting on her his, slowly making their way into her skirt.

   “Yeah I don’t want to witness anymore of this. Lets go.” Kenma just laughed and mumbled out an aspirated yeah.  

   He led you out of the hall, and out of the school. Past the womping willow tree and further into the woods. You didn’t have the courage to ask him why the surprise was so hidden. So far away from school, far away from anyone that could save you. He was your friend. He would never do anything like that to you. 

   “Ok so what is it?” You asked, the nervous in your voice apparent. 

   “Hm? Oh I suppose we’re far enough. Kuroo! Sakusa! I brought her.” You’re heart stopped, your breathing even stopped. What?

   “That’s not funny Kenma…”

   “For you.” He said as he turned to you. He had a smirk, and his eyes were slanted in the same way Kuroo’s were before he assaulted you. 

   “No…” You started to back up and you hit something hard, and your breath caught in your lungs.

   “Where you goin pretty girl?” No, no, no, no, no. You felt tears welt up in your eyes.

   “W-why...How could you?” 

   “He never really liked you.” Came a familiar cruel voice. “Did you honestly think he was your friend? He stood by and let us abuse you. He even enjoyed it.” The voice was coming from Sakusa who had come from behind a tree. 

   With shaky breath you replied. “That’s not...that’s not true right Kenma?” 

   “Of course it is. I never cared about you. Even I think you’re useless.” He said this with practically no emotion. He looked at you with no other feeling than indifference. Cold hearted indifference. 

   “You can go now Kenma, unless you wanna stay and watch.” He said the last part in your ear, as his arm wrapped around your waist to keep you still, the other sliding up your thigh.

   “I’d actually love to but as you know, I have my own business to attend to. Thank you for your help earlier Kuroo, you too Sakusa.” 

   “Of course!” He said chiperly. Sakusa just nodded his head to him. With that, Kenma took his leave.

   You were whimpering in Kuroo’s grip as he slid his fingers to your clothed pussy and started rubbing with his two fingers. Panic was taking over your body causing you to flail around.

   “Stop! Stop please! Kenma come back! Please don’t leave me out here!” He turned back, he was far away now, you could barely see him and he could barely hear you. 

   “Word of advice! Maybe if you say Riddikulus it’ll all go away!” You blinked a fresh new flood of tears.

   “What’s the matter pretty girl? Did you really like him hmm?” His fingers picked up their pace. “Huh? Did you feel safe?” 

   “She felt safe enough around him to follow him out in the middle of nowhere no questions asked.” Sakusa said from in front of you. “Maybe you knew this was going to happen? Maybe that’s exactly what you wanted the whole time hm? To be raped by your bullies.” 

   They had done a lot of horrible inexcusable things to you. But they had never raped you.

   “NO! Please don’t! I’m sorry about in class! It won’t happen again. I swear on my life! Please don’t rape me Kuroo, Sakusa please!” You were crying so hard snot was dribbling out of your nose accompanying the fat globs of salty tears. “I’ll do anything! I’ll get you both off I swear! I promise I will! Just don’t rape me please!” You were desperate, willing to do anything as long as you didn’t get your virginity stolen from you by you bullies.

   “Aw, look Sakusa , she's actually begging.” Kuroo muttered in your ear with absolute delight. 

   “Yeah, it’s kind of hot. Beg some more, I’m not fully convinced.” 

   “You know what? Me either.” Kuroo threw you to the ground. “Beg and make it convincing.” You looked down at their feet, thankful for the opportunity. 

    “P-please I don’t want to be raped...I’ll be a good girl and I won’t fight it...I’ll suck both of you off and swallow it with a smile.” You went down to lick Sakusa’s shoes, he liked it when you did that. It gave Kuroo a great view of your ass and panties. You even wiggled a little bit for him giving him a show. “Please...please...master.” You wanted to throw up everything in your stomach uttering those words. But you were desperate. Unfortunately, neither of them seemed to be enjoying your whole groveling act. You started to cry harder, hiccuping. “Please let me please you sir, I’ll be good…” You turned around to look at Kuroo, who had his arms crossed and a stern look on his face, you should have just taken that as your sign to give up, but you came too far to give up. 

   “I’ll swallow all of your cock sir, I promise…” You lifted up your ass and began to grind on the tip of Sakusa’s foot, just like he liked. Making sure to make your whines sound extra desperate and helpless. While doing that you wrapped your hands around the belt on Kuroo, trying to undo it with your shaky hands. 

   “Aw what’s the matter are you scared?” He teased. Of course you were, but you swallowed some bile that was rising and tried to calm your nerves. You could do this, you could do this.

   “Kuroo, I don’t think she wants it enough.” You let out a small yelp, that was slowly turning into a sob. You were almost there, you almost had it out of the belt loop. So close to the finish line.

   “I don’t either...guess she wants to be raped.” He pushed you to the ground and undid his belt the rest of the way.

   “Can’t even do a single thing right.” He let out a few tsk tsks. Wrapping his belt around his hand. “I didn’t like what you did in class the other day...I didn’t find it as funny as you and the whole class did.” You swallowed, trying to crawl away. 

   “Where do you think you’re going?” You felt your head get yanked back as you screamed out for help. It felt so bad, and you were so scared. 

   “Please! I said I was sorry!” You put your fingers to his to try to relieve the pain. 

   “She said she was sorry Kuroo should we leave her alone?” Sakusa mocked.

   “Mmm, I don’t think she deserves it. Do you slut?” He raised up the belt and landed a harsh smack across your face. Your face felt like it was on fire. 

   “Say thank you.” You whimpered and didn’t say anything. “Wrong answer.” He raised up his arm and landed another across your face.

   This time you gave in. “Thank you!” 

   “That’s my good girl. Again.” He hit you again.

   “Thank you!” 

   “Again!” 

   “Thank you!” 

   “Unbutton your shirt and let me see your tits.” You did what he asked, as fast as you could but you were still shaking and afraid. 

   “Go faster.” He said as he raised up his belt again.

   “I’m sorry! I’m sorry...I’m trying...I’m trying so hard.” 

   “Not hard enough.” Sakusa chimed in from behind you, grip still tight in your hair. 

   You felt another smack across your face. Making it harder to focus on the task at hand.

   “Thank you…” You quickly wiped off the blood pouring out of your nose with the back of your hand before zoning in on the last button. You let your shirt fall open.

   “Wow...look at my pretty girl…” He grabbed his dick and palmed himself through his pants. “But I’m just gonna mark up these pretty tits before I let myself touch them. Don’t forget to say thank you.” 

   He gave you seven lashes on your tits, and you said thank you for each and everyone of them. Well, as well as you could. It sounded more like babbling. 

   “Get up.” You rose up off of your bottom, nose blood dribbling down to your tits. Sakusa wrapped his arms around your so you couldn’t fight him. Not that you had the energy to anymore. Kuroo wrapped his belt around your neck so it was a makeshift collar. Pulling till he was slightly choking you. He dipped his hands inside your bra and found your nipples, giving them a harsh squeeze. You yelped out causing him to squeeze even tighter. He pulled his hand out and began to grope while he moaned.

   “Ah, fuck...you’re so soft...feel s’good. Maybe you aren’t,” He pulled your tits out of your bra so they were hanging out of them, cup underneath. “Useless after all.” He leaned down and popped your nipples in his mouth, giving them a hash sucking. You pushed your thighs together, trying to ignore the arousal that was slicking up your pussy. He smirked into your tits, running his hand up your thigh, slowly pushing his fingers in your tight walls. 

   “Wet.” He removed his mouth from your tits. “She’s fucking wet, slut.” Sakusa laughed from behind you. “You wanna get raped?”

   “I think she does.” He pulled out his fingers, presenting them to both you and Sakusa. Sure enough, there was your own juices slowly dripping from his fingers and down his hand. 

   “Get her on the ground.” Without missing a beat, Sakusa shoved you back to the ground. You landed on your back, skirt flying up giving them a full view of your damp panties. You backed up and tried to cover yourself. They licked their lips and Kuroo pulled his pants off, finally letting his erection free. Sakusa unbuckled his pants and followed suit, making sure to keep the belt wrapped around his hand. Kuroo grabbed the makeshift leash and tugged you forwards. 

   “Get on your hands and knees. Turn over. NOW!” He shouted in your face. Fear taking over you as you did what he said. He slowly peeled off your shirt, kissing from the back of your neck all the way down till he reached right above your ass. He unzipped your skirt and harshly tugged it down, taking your panties with. He moaned out loud, lookin at your weeping virgin pussy just begging to be wrecked. You watched in horror as Sakusa lined himself up in front of you, harshly taking you by the hair and bringing you up to his hard, angry cock.

   “Open up, warm me up before I take your ass.”

   “Please not in-” You didn’t get the chance to beg for mercy as he shoved himself inside of your mouth. Pushing all the way into your throat. You were squirming, clawing and hitting him, begging for air. Kuroo took this opportunity to shealth his cock into you all the way. And he wasn’t gentle either. He shoved it into your virgin cunt with no mercy. You screamed out in agony around Sakusa’s cock. He moaned before using his belt to smack you across the face a few times. 

   “Ah fuck, your throat is closing around me.”

   “Here, take this.” Kuroo handed Sakusa his belt. As soon as the belt was in his hand he tugged as tight as he could, you swore you could feel the blood vessels popping in your eyes. It was hard to focus on trying to breathe, trying to please Sakusa. But Kuroo was tearing your pussy apart. He was fucking fast and hashly, shifting around until he found a spot that made you clench around him even tighter, he didn’t know you could be any tighter after Sakusa tightened the leash. Keeping you on the verge of life and death. 

   “You slut you’re enjoying this...pathetic whore...fuck you feel so good. Sakusa...you gotta get inside of her.” Kuroo was bent over, fucking like a man in heat. His fingers found your tits again and fondled them to his heart's content. Taking your nipples between his fingers, pinching and rolling them in the most deliciously painful way possible. Only god knows if it's the lack of oxygen to your brain, that Kuroo was playing your body like a fiddle, his hips snapping up in time as your hips pushed back into him. Enjoying every cruel hit, sucking him in deeper and begging for more. You were drooling around Sakusa, moaning out in pleasure and slowly crossing your eyes and losing yourself to the pleasure. 

   “Look at you slut.” He smacked you a few times on the cheek, you only moaned out in response. You were getting so close to cumming on your rapist. You hoped he would squeeze tight enough that you would pass out instead.

   “Fuck, you feel so good. Are you gonna cum?” Kuroo gave you a harsh smack to your ass. “Cum for me slut, see what happens, see what happens...ah fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, I wanna show you what happens.” He was assaulting your ass with one hand, keeping up his pace and pounding into you. “I know what will make you cum pretty girl.” His hand left your hip, fingers pinching and rubbing your clit. You tried to squirm around, pleasure taking over as you felt your thighs shake in pleasure. Sakusa pulled himself off so he could hear you scream like a whore. You squealed out as you came, Kuroo fucking you through your orgasm. While you were drooling, shock waves of pleasure ran up and down your spine each time Kuroo’s hips smacked into yours. Sakusas fingers gripped your jaw open. You knew by now what to expect. You opened your mouth obediently, watching as his saliva dripped from his mouth and into yours. He didn’t have to tell you to swallow, he didn’t have to tell you to say thank you. You were well trained by now. 

   “Good girl.” He cooed, giving you a few smacks before kneeling and pushing your back into Kuroo, who had finished his movements. You were disoriented. 

   “You think we can fit two cocks in one hole?” That woke you up.

   “No…” You whispered quietly. 

   “She is...was, a virgin. I don’t know.” 

   “Why don’t we find out?” Sakusa said with a smile, inching closer with his cock twitching.

 �� “Please…” You were ignored. 

   Kuroo pulled you back by your shoulders, making you depend on him. Sakusa spread your legs even further, slowly trying to shove himself in. No matter how hard he tried to go slow, it burned nonetheless. Felt like you were being torn apart. You screamed for him to stop as he wormed the tip in. You begged and begged for him to pull out, put it in any other hole. He laughed in your face and got it halfway in anyways.

   “Ah, fuck, Kuroo start moving.” You couldn’t imagine that Kuroo moving would have made it much worse, but it did, it was much, much worse. 

   “AH! STOOOP! PLEASE!” 

   “Shut up bitch.” Sakusa slapped you across the face, wrapping his belt around your mouth so it worked as a gag, keeping you silent. You whined, clenching around both of them at the same time. Kuroo was half way out, while Sakusa was all the way in. You rolled your head back, resting on Kuroo’s shoulder. He kissed the top of your head before giving you a harsh smack to your ass. 

   “Got to stay awake baby!”

   Maybe they were right, maybe you really were a whore. Because you were getting off on having two dicks inside of you at the same time. Slowly hearing your whimpers turn into quick moans as they took turns abusing your spot. 

   “That’s a good, good slut.” Kuroo slapped your ass again, each time he felt you twitch around him. Telling you it was your punishment for likeing rape. His fingers went back to your clit, rubbing circles. The other one turning your nipples around his fingers again. Sakusa taking the other one in his mouth and sucking, biting it when he felt you tightening around his cock. You began to twitch and shake again, face scrunching up as more drool leaked out of your makeshift gag. 

   “You’re gonna cum at the same time as I do, ok pretty girl?” You shook your head. You weren’t sure if it was to tell him no, or to tell him to not cum inside. It didn’t matter, because he didn’t care. His fingers worked on your clit and nipples once again, as he hit your spongy spot like a mad man. 

   “Ku,ku,ku.” Was all you could let out behind the gag, attempting to say Kuroo each time he hit. You curled your toes and squealed out. Releasing once again, feeling the warmth of Kuroo shoot straight into you. He pumped a few more times riding out his high before slowly pulling out. Watching as blood and semen seeped out of your hole. 

   “That’s a good girl..look at you…” You felt his fingers enter your hole, playing with his cum and rubbing around your lips like some sick kind of lotion. He took his fingers out, slowly undoing your gag. 

   “Clean me off...then clean me off again.” You sniffled and nodded slowly, letting your tongue fall out, letting him run his fingers slowly over your tongue. You closed your mouth around his fingers and sucked. Closing your eyes as you did.

   “That’s a good girl...that’s my good girl…” You moaned as Sakusa hit your spongy spot, tongue slowly swirling around your nipples, fingers swirling around your clit. You whined, you were starting to get sore. Kuroo got up, waving his still hard cock in your face. 

   “Clean it up whore.” You opened your mouth without hesitation. Tasting yourself as you cleaned.

   “I’m gonna go in the back.” Sakusa pulled out slowly, pushing you on your hands and knees again. He spit on your asshole to give it some lube, spreading it around with his two fingers before he pumped him in.

   “So fuckin tight.” Once he had enough of his foreplay, plunging his cock all the way inside of your hole. You screamed out in agony around Kuroo. Your jaw was beginning to lock.

   “Ah, fuck, do that again!” Kuroo smacked you a few times on the cheek. “Come on whore, you can do it.” Your eyes slowly began to close shut and shot back open trying to regain consciousness. 

   “I said do it again!” This time the smack was hard enough to wake you up again. You squealed, trying to please him again. Meanwhile Sakusa had both his hands wrapped around your hips, nails bitting into your skin,  fucking your tight hole loose. Sending you further into Kuroo’s crotch with each snap of his hips. He only let go to smack your ass in the same spot. He was getting close, you could tell by his rambling about leaving bruise marks on you, and his hits slowing down. You tried not to focus on the fluid dripping out of you. You just looked up at Kuroo instead, looking him in the eye as his cock made contact with your uvula like they were old friends. 

   “Oh pretty girl, are you sad?” You just stared back at him. Your eyes telling him all he needed to know.

   “Fuck, I’m gonna cum!” Sakusa yelled as he sped up the pace trying to chase his release.

   “You look sad pretty girl...I thought you liked getting raped? Liked getting abused.” He said this while running his fingers through your hair gently. Caressing your cheek.

   “Wish you had just stayed home huh?”

   “Oh fuck I’m coming! I’m gonna cum inside your ass!” His fingers dug into your hips, nails digging into your ass. You cringed as you felt your ass become warm, almost too hot. 

   “I bet you're thinking if I would have just stayed home, none of this would have happened huh?” You felt Sakusa pull out. Leaving his cum to leak out of you. Kuroo pulled out too. Gripping your hair as your jaw hung open.

   “But you’re here...with us...your favorite boyfriends.” He chuckled darkly as you began to sob and whisper your little pathetic “no’s”.

   “Shhh baby, you’re gonna need to save your strength.” He turned over to look at Sakusa. 

    “You still have a long night ahead of you. We’re still...rock hard.”

#rape tw #abuse tw #sakusa x reader #sakusa kiyoomi #kuroo tetsuro x reader #kuroo x reader #kuroo x you #sakusa x you #haikyuu!! #haikyū!! #haikyuu fanfiction #haikyuu!! fanfiction #haikyuu scenarios #hq #hq scenarios #hq!! imagines #hq!! #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu headcanons #haikyuu x you #haikyuu!! x reader #haikyuu!! x you #hogwarts au #hogwarts x haikyuu

[moonlightserenadeeznutz]

luna for the headcanons thing pls pls pls

Yes!!! I love giving Luna headcanons, so here ya go bestie!

(Read under cut)

Luna Lovegood headcanons

First of all, definitely a trans girl, no doubt about that. She lived in a very open environment and was able to explore her gender identity at a young age. Her mother sewed her dresses to wear, long, flowing garments that Luna thought were the most beautiful things she’d ever seen. Her father taught her how to make flower crowns and crowns of leaves, and she’d wear them with her dresses.

She didn’t have to come out to her parents. Her femininity at a young age simply led to her simply stating that she was a girl, and that her name was Luna. Her parents were very accepting (and Xenophilius is trans himself because fuck you of course he is, so he was super supportive of Luna).

She named herself after the moon because her parents loved astrology and they taught her all the different planets and their moons, and all the different stars in the sky and how to spot the constellations.

The Lovegoods were definitely pagan, I mean they were all about nature and spirituality. They always marked every single holiday, staying up all night on the solstices, lighting huge bonfires, and making wreaths to wear. Pandora played the lyre, Xenophilius sang songs and Luna would act out stories and poems.

Cornish, and they speak the language as well because being bilingual is sexy.

Speaking of pagan, Pandora’s funeral would have also been pagan, obviously.

She’d have a natural burial, and Luna would recite a poem, and the rest of the family would also give eulogies, recite poetry, or thank the Goddess. Four members- including Xenophilius and Luna- would stand at each point on the compass and “invoke” each element (Air in the East, Fire in the South, Water in the West and Earth in the North) and give thanks to them. There would also be music at the wake, played by members of the family. Drums, tambourines, flutes etc. Luna played her mother’s favourite song on her lyre.

When she reached Hogwarts, I don’t think she was drawn to anyone in particular right away, I think she had better relationships with the teachers more than the students. She got on really well with Professor Sprout, and I think Hagrid really liked her too, because they’d talk about all the different magical creatures together, and Luna would tell him about all the creatures her and her father wrote about in the Quibbler.

Academically, she was very smart, and did well in most of her classes, but she didn’t particularly find a lot of them overtly interesting to her, unless she was able to put her own twist to it, which usually she wasn’t. In Potions, she wasn’t able to brew her own stuff, make up recipes, or use a variation of the recipe. Snape was much too strict with her and as a result, she didn’t do very well, which made her more upset than she would let on since she had been really good at potions at home.

She particularly shone in third year, since she was able to take classes more suited to her, like Astrology and Divination. Astrology was her favourite of course, and she’d talk about it all the time with Ginny.

However, in third year she also became particularly interested in DADA, mainly because she formed a strong friendship with Professor Lupin. Remus had been informed that Luna was trans, and since he is as well, they had things in common, and were able to talk about it with each other, Remus sort of taking Luna under his wing a little. They’d sit in his office and drink tea and Luna would give him copies of the Quibbler, which he’d happily read.

Luna was actually the first to figure out that Remus was a werewolf, but she didn’t tell anyone, not even him. She didn’t think it was her secret to share, nor did she think it changed anything. But she did find it fascinating, and read a lot of books on lycanthropy. After Remus had left, Luna told him that she knew and she asked if she could write some articles about it in the Quibbler, to raise awareness, or if he’d like to write any articles. Remus agreed to let her write something, and she wrote a three page article about werewolf inequality (but careful not to mention Remus by name). She did interview him about it, and he said that he was proud of being a werewolf, that it was actually very cool at times, but that it was simply wizarding society that had forced him to be ashamed. She wrote all this down, and it became the most bought copy of the Quibbler, as lots of students at Hogwarts wanted to read it, and they shared it with their friends and parents. So despite Remus not being able to come back to Hogwarts as a teacher, he did receive tons of letters in support of him from parents and students who had read the article and put two and two together.

Friends with Ginny by third year! Luna actually took a while to warm up to Ginny, thinking she was this loud, athletic, snobbish type, but then Luna got to know her and realised that she wasn’t that at all. Ginny was loud, but in a contagious laughter sort of way, and she could be very quiet and calm when she wanted to. She was athletic, but chatted animatedly about Quidditch teams, and Luna couldn’t help but listen. And she wasn’t snobbish, quite the opposite. She was the only person who listened to Luna, and discussed her ideas rather than swat them away impatiently. Luna made Ginny flower crowns, and Ginny stayed up with her all night during solstices. They became very close.

Ginny was the first student at Hogwarts that Luna told about being trans, and Ginny came out to her as being bisexual. And they were very supportive of each other, as well as being great at keeping each other’s secrets. They trusted each other with their lives, and would always stand up for the other. If Luna was getting picked on, Ginny would go feral and start fights. Although she eventually stopped, since it made Luna more upset. So she stuck to just being there for Luna (and maybe slipping a potion into bullies’ morning pumpkin juice that made them cluck like a chicken. But Luna didn’t need to know about that...)

That being said, Luna could get angry too of course. When she heard an older girl make fun of Ginny behind Ginny’s back, Luna wordlessly went up to her turned the girl’s hair blue with a wave of her wand. Ginny laughed her head off when she found out.

It was through Luna’s bond with Ginny, that she realised that she wasn’t interested in either the romantic or sexual side of relationships. At first she assumed that it was because Ginny was a girl, and she may not be attracted to girls, but it got her thinking about boys too, about everyone. And she just didn’t want that sort of relationship with anyone. She loved her platonic relationship with Ginny, and that’s how she wanted all of her relationships to be like.

I feel like she also had a close bond with Neville, and they gave each other plants as birthday gifts.

Projecting a little bit here, but Luna with Maladaptive Daydreaming Disorder, spending hours by herself making up fantasies and constructing worlds in her head, making up new characters, and getting so invested in them that she regularly saw herself as her characters. I feel like this started because of the trauma from losing her mother. She didn’t tell anyone about it, or at least nothing in detail, but she tried to explain it a bit to Ginny, who knew to leave her alone when Luna would sit by herself.

MaD also made Luna a little more detached from her gender identity, especially if she was acting as one of her characters (again I’m projecting here) who were either male or genderless. She still identified as female, but in a much more looser, fluid way, and even experimented with she/they pronouns, which she eventually decided she liked. (If this were set in the modern world, I can also imagine her using neopronouns such as xe/xer or fae/faeself, though in the canon world, she may have also tried out it/its).

Doesn’t know much about the muggle world, but Hermione gave them a copy of Alice In Wonderland which they loved. And if I were to headcanon Luna liking a muggle band/artist they’d probably like anything psychedelic or nature-like, maybe the early stuff of Pink Floyd (yes, Dev, I’m thinking about Atom Heart Mother).

Went travelling after Hogwarts, where she met Rolf Scamander, and they hit it off immediately. Very similar to each other, and soon became close friends. I also headcanon Rolf as aro/ace so their relationship basically became like Luna’s and Ginny’s.

Their house was filled with all sorts of plants and animals. Rooms were lined with trees filled with Bowtruckles, and owls flitted in and out of windows, cats slinking about the place, so many frogs. My god, their house was wonderful.

Adopted Lorcan and Lysander because ffs not everyone has to have a nuclear family jkr 🙄. And parents also don’t have to be romantically or sexually involved with each other either; Luna and Rolf had a good relationship, both wanted to be parents, so they raised the twin boys together. And Lorcan and Lysander had a fantastic childhood, can you imAGINE?!

Godmother of Lily Luna, obviously. And Harry and Ginny’s kids loved going round Luna’s place, so more often than not, the house was filled with not only the entire natural world, but also a bunch of children running about the place.

Oh also, Luna has nymph ancestors. They just do, okay?

#luna lovegood #luna lovegood hcs #trans luna lovegood #harry potter #ask #request a character! #hp headcanon

[opaljm]

blood runs pure (m) – pjm

➻ written in collaboration with @fitaelity

➻ female reader x jimin

➻ harry potter!au + death eater/pureblood/slytherin!jimin + half-blood/gryffindor!reader + enemies to lovers

➻ genres: minor fluff, tons of angst, minor smut, romance

➻ length & status: 28k words ; complete

➻ rating & warnings: 18+; brief mentions of death, violence (there’s dueling/fighting/killing scenes), torture (Cruciatus Curse; in one scene: chains/starvation/captivity/etc.), smut (steamy kisses, cunnilingus/light nipple play/fingering/multiple orgasms/penetrative sex)

➻ summary: The 2nd Wizarding War was underfoot, with you and Jimin falling on opposite sides. This however, was not enough to stop the two of you from falling in love with each other over the course of your final year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft & Wizardry. AKA this is a story of Jimin’s transition from the Death Eater’s perfect Pureblood poster child to the more redeemable man that you fell in love with.

➻ disclaimer: Also, I’m pretty sure we never made Jimin use the word “mudblood” but I’m sorry in advance for any of you who might get offended by the toxic and discriminatory behavior that Jimin sometimes exudes, but please keep in mind that this is a redemption story that is meant to follow and explore the growth of Jimin’s character and that he ultimately does realize the wrongs of that kind of behavior. um this was too long to edit rip, so we didn’t yolo.

⋆ my masterlist ⋆ interview ⋆

It was only to be expected that Park Jimin would have been the unlucky person to get that unfortunate letter, which essentially cursed him, delivered to him on that stormy August day by a completely drenched and sad looking gray owl. He had shown his worth, he supposed, shown that he could be trusted and put in that position of power. Perhaps the Lees, a pair of brother and sister Death Eaters who had been given positions on the Hogwarts’ staff by the Dark Lord, had whispered in Headmaster Snape’s ear that Jimin had spent the entire summer finishing an internship at the Ministry of Magic, a job which had been painstaking acquired by his father through transferring huge sums of money and exchanging many favors, under the tutelage of Jimin’s Fifth year’s Defense Against the Dark Arts professor, Choi Jonghoon.

Perhaps the Lees, knowing how Jimin had reacted emotionlessly to the Muggleborns stripped of their Wizarding status in the courtrooms while he transcribed the trials during his wretched summer internship, had thought that Jimin would be an excellent choice to keep the students in line during the school year.

Or perhaps, the decision had been made by the Dark Lord himself, after he had met with Jimin and declared him worthy of championing the Cause. That meeting had ended with Jimin facing the long and painful ordeal that had ended with him getting branded with the gruesome serpent, that was the infamous mark of the Death Eaters, on his left arm. It appeared that that event and his new title had awarded him yet another one, the position of Head Boy at Hogwarts under the Snape administration.

In any matter the deed was long done; Jimin was now tugging his trunks across a train station which was much emptier than it had been the past few years that he had been studying at Hogwarts, fully aware that he had to play an important role in how the school year unfolded. His trunks were half filled with things Jimin was sure would have been contraband had this been any other year: books on the Dark Arts (and on torture), vials filled with disgusting potions with torturous and sometimes painful effects, and the Hand of Glory which allowed Jimin to spy and get around without being detected.

After Jimin heaved his trunks onto the Hogwarts’ Express and pulled himself up as well, he was pushed unceremoniously by a girl who was not looking where she was going. She was pressed against his chest, in the narrow hallway of the train, and looked up to gaze into Jimin’s dark brown eyes with her sparkling ones. He recognized her to be you; your name was Y/N and you were a Gryffindor in his year. He had never bothered interacting with you or acknowledging your presence before, but he knew that you had a Muggle father and a witch for a mother. His lips curled into a snarl, “Get off me you disgusting Half-Blood, before I transform you into the vermin that you share your blood with.”

“I am— I am sorry, Park. It was an accident,” you whispered, removing yourself from Jimin as quickly as bodily possible. You turned around to head back in the direction you had come from, deciding that it was better to hold your bladder until you finally arrived at Hogwarts than to risk running into more terrifying Purebloods who could scare you into wetting yourself, and no doubt thought they had free reign to do as they pleased now that the Dark side had taken over.

Once back into your train compartment, which was empty since the people who used to be your only true friends at Hogwarts were Muggleborns who had both had gone into hiding, you sank down into your seat to and dropped your face into your hands as you sobbed. The only reason you were attending school was because you and all of Hogwarts’ students were being forced. Under a new law, a Hogwarts education was now mandatory for all witches and wizards between the ages of eleven and seventeen in Great Britain. This was a poorly constructed scheme, by the Dark side, that would allow them to grab the Muggleborn students as soon as they arrived at the station to strip them of their wands and throw them into prison. For this reason, many of your Muggleborn classmates had chosen to ignore the law outright and elected to go into hiding. Your own father, whom you had not seen since you were five and whom had remarried another Muggle, had been forced by your mother to go into hiding with his new family. You hated being here since you doubted that you would learn anything at all to help you pass your NEWTs, which you thought were going to be rigged and ripe with cheating now that you were living in He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named’s playground, or anything that would help you become a better witch who was more adapt at performing magic and living in the Wizarding world as an adult. You wondered if the two new professors at school, the Lees, who were in charge of teaching the new Dark Arts class, that was replacing Defense Against the Dark Arts, and, the now forced graduation requisite: Muggle Studies, would be throwing you into detention at every possible opportunity, not only because of your so called ‘tainted’ blood but because you were a Gryffindor like most of the insurgents who supported the Chosen One’s cause.

At that very moment you made a promise to yourself. It was not a promise to succeed nor was it a promise to enjoy your last year of Hogwarts; it was a promise to survive and get the hell out of there as soon as possible and to escape to America where the Dark Lord’s reign had not yet quite reached.

…

The next time you interact with Park Jimin, it was because of what had happened in a Dark Arts lesson. You had honestly promised yourself to slip under the radar as much as possible, but there were just some things that you were not willing to compromise on: your morals, for one. The professor, Lee Seunghyun, had brought into the classroom a group of ten First Years on whom, he declared, you all would be practicing the Cruciatus Curse. You, knowing the ill effects that mispronounced and improperly casted spells could have, refused to utter the curse at all and stared at your First Year sullenly for the entire duration of the lesson, with your wand hanging from your right hand, as the child burst into uncontrollable and unstoppable tears in front of you. Professor Lee, being outraged by your act of defiance, said, with a dark scowl, that you would have a month of detention where the Unforgivable Curses would be practiced on you instead. He gave you the options of a month of detentions where he would use the Imperius Curse on you or a month with the Head Boy who would practice the Cruciatus Curse on you, which you had so valiantly refused to cast in class. Given the lecherous stares that Lee was sending your way, you knew you did not want to be placed under the Imperius Curse by him as that would allow him to control you like a puppet so you decided to take your chances instead with Jimin and the promise of torture.

On the unblessed Saturday that you had detention with Jimin, he stalked into the, otherwise, empty classroom at seven in the morning instantly throwing a venomous glare at you for ruining what would have otherwise been the first morning he could have slept in instead of having to run around the castle punishing students and being forced to keep them in line. “Y/L/N,” he barked, “I see that you have refused to use the Cruciatus Curse in class. What exactly did you think we would be learning in that class?”

“I didn’t know that we would be practicing on people,” you muttered. Jimin gave you a look that suggested that he thought you were an idiot of the highest order. You were inclined to agree, after all it was the Lees who were teaching, was it not. “I thought it might have all just been us studying the theory and not practicing anything.”

“Did you think, perhaps, that we were still getting taught by Choi Jonghoon?” Jimin laughed hollowly, “At best you could have hoped that you would be practicing on rodents or spiders and not humans. But as you can see, that is not the case.”

You stared at Jimin in surprise, “I thought you were a fan of Choi. You were in the Inquisitorial Squad and I know what you did this summer.” You wondered how Jimin could sleep at night after enduring trial after trial where Muggleborns were treated like vermin and stripped of their wands and Magical status as he stood by emotionlessly and was, all the while, transcribing the details of the cases in meticulous detail.

Jimin scoffed, “No one is a fan of that ugly toad. He pretends to be a Pureblood, related to the Kangs, and makes up lies about his father being a former member of the Wizengamot, as though my family has not worked at the Ministry for centuries. We know he has a Muggle mother and a Squib brother; her father used to scrub the floors at my grandfather’s office. I got that internship because she cannot afford to make enemies of the Parks. There is no lost love between us.”

“Are— are you going to be practicing the curse on me now?” you asked, kicking yourself in your head for sounding terrified.

Jimin stared at you; his dark brown eyes felt like they were piercing through your soul, “You are terrified of me.”

“N— No, I am not,” you protested half-heartedly.

He ignored you, “You are afraid of me and yet you chose to have detention with me. Why is that Y/L/N?” His eyes bore into yours as a thought about Lee Seunghyun being a disgusting piece of scum flitted across your mind. Jimin’s face contorted with disgust as he said, “Never mind. I’ll practice the Cruciatus Curse on you now.”

You moved to the center of the room, standing there uncertainly as you shifted your weight from one foot to the next. Meanwhile, Jimin enchanted the desks and chairs to be pressed against the walls. Though you did not expect him to, he spelled a dozen cushions to appear out of thin air and pad the floor. “Y/L/N do you remember our fourth year Defense Against the Dark Arts class?” he mused.

You had forgotten that you had shared classes with the Slytherins that year, which had also been the year when the Triwizard Tournament had taken place. “What about it?”

“You will see,” Jimin muttered before he pulled his wand out of his pocket and raised it in front of him, “Crucio!”

Immediately, the most excruciating pain you had ever experienced filled your body. You felt as though every single one of your bones was being splintered into a million shards. Your blood felt like it was on fire and like it was going to burn through your body and drip down to the floor before engulfing your seemingly melting body. You vaguely wondered if this must be what being in hell would feel like, if you were a Muggle who believed in a single superior deity, as you just wanted to die so that you no longer could feel the pain.

When you came back to your senses, you saw that Jimin was staring at you from where he was sitting cross-legged on top of a desk, his hand was on his cheek and he muttered, “You have a very low pain tolerance, Y/L/N, that will have to change.”

You croaked; your vocal cords were abused from you screaming your lungs out when you had been under the spell, “Why will that have to change?”

He gave you another look to suggest that you were an idiot, “How will you survive Y/L/N if you cannot withstand the pain? You need to build your tolerance up. And then perhaps one day, you can make your mind strong enough to resist and convince yourself to throw off the spell.”

“Why are you helping me?” you whispered.

He stared at you, “Am I helping you or am I telling you what you should have realized already? It is common sense, Y/L/N. There are a lot of times that you will be forced to endure things you do not wish to, but it is up to you to use those experiences to shape who you are. In any case, I highly doubt you will succeed since you were only under the spell for ten seconds, yet you screamed like the world was lit on fire. I find no harm in telling you anything; I highly doubt that you will be able to use the instruction I give you to your benefit.”

…

A few days after your first detention lesson with Jimin, you were reminded of the lesson you had in your fourth year with Professor Jung Jihoon. Well, he turned out to be a Death Eater named Baek Yoonchun according to The Boy Who Lived, but you digressed. There had been a lesson where he had covered the Unforgivable Curses. In the first lesson, Jung/Baek. had brought out three spiders on which he had used an enlarging spell so that you would all be able to see the effects of the Unforgivable Curses on the doomed creatures as he performed them. In the following classes, he would use the Imperius Curse on classmates until they could throw it off. Only two people had been successful, and it had only been for a few seconds; one of them had been the Chosen One, and the other, although it had been for a split second in contrast to the long interminable minutes the Chosen One had held it off,— the other had been none other than Park Jimin. Something told you though, that if anyone tried to place the Imperius Curse on Jimin now, they would not be very successful unless they were a very powerful individual or one who had used the Dark Arts to increase their magical prowess.

For the second detention, you showed up early with extra padding on your body because last time, even with Jimin’s precautions, you had ended up with bruises. This time, Jimin was even later than before, skidding into the room with an incorrectly buttoned shirt and hair that was drenched from his shower. “I am surprised you came back for more pain,” Jimin gasped, out of breath from his sprint, smirking sardonically to reassert his dominance. “Are you a masochist Y/L/N?” he asked as he magicked the blinds to open so that the morning’s light could be let in.

“No,” you answered. “But I hardly have the choice of not showing up, Park. This is detention. And there will be far worse penalties than this if I were to not show up.”

“I suppose,” muttered Jimin as he took a step into your personal space, “Have you prepared?”

“How am I supposed to prepare for the pain?” you asked, tilting your head upward to look Jimin in his dark stormy eyes.

“Strengthen your mind Y/L/N,” Jimin replied, “Your control over yourself has to be stronger than the person’s ability to perform the curse. You see, they have to really mean it when they utter it. Perhaps you will get lucky and they will utter it carelessly, in which case it will be easier for you to throw off the curse. But perhaps, they are a formidable witch or wizard who is extremely good at performing the Unforgivables; your mind and control over yourself has to be stronger than their ability to execute magic.”

“I don’t understand,” you murmured.

Jimin stepped even closer which caused you to take a step back; his eyes scanned your face, stopping on your lips for a brief moment before returning to your eyes. He finally responded; “Are you able to cast a corporeal Patronus?”

“I did. Once,” you answered.

Jimin looked momentarily stunned before he was able to collect himself, “In theory, if you have a memory that is so inexplicably happy and bound to your mind that you would never forget it, you could even scare off an army of Dementors with your Patronus.”

You felt like you were beginning to understand Jimin; you needed to be so attuned to yourself, have such strength and control over your mind that you could shake off even the strongest mental spells on yourself. “I see.” You said, “I am ready to be Cruciatized.”

Jimin scoffed, “One is not ‘ready’ to get Cruciatized but, fine, I will perform the curse on you now.”

…

On your last detention with Jimin, he was distracted; it had to be rescheduled to a Sunday, and he had arrived past ten. Jimin looked worse for wear with the bags under his eyes looking more prominent than ever, his cheeks appearing to have been hollowed out to the point of no return, and his collarbone sticking out sharply from underneath his sweater. And perhaps it was because Jimin’s mind was not entirely on making you endure the Cruciatus Curse, that you were finally able to throw off the spell for twenty seconds, screaming out, “Jimin! Jimin! I did it!”

Jimin’s control on the spell was snapped as his wand hand jerked at your unexpected outburst. He glanced down to where you were sprawled inelegantly on top of the cushions, your legs were still twitching slighting from the onslaught of torture, “And so you did,” he said monotonously, before his eyes shifted to the windows where he appeared to be looking for some type of disturbance in the skies.

You sat up. Your sides were screaming at the movement. You, then, braced your hand on the ground as you moved to go on your knees before you were slowly able to contort your body until it was able to stand upright. Your entire form was aching in response to the constant shifting. “For some reason,” you gasped breathlessly, “I presumed that you would be more excited about my success.”

Jimin’s eyes cut back to your shape, “Well you presumed incorrectly,” he answered coldly, “We are not friends; nothing you do excites me. However, it does not surprise me that you thought our relationship was changing to anything more than executioner and victim, given your background,” the last part was said scathingly, “but at least something was able to get into your thick skull before you went back to living your meaningless existence.”

There was a sudden rush of hot unwanted tears flooding your eyes; they were probably a delayed effect from the Cruciatus Curse you had been forced to endure, you tried to convince yourself. “I see,” you mumbled thickly, trying to hide the fact that you were now in tears from your voice, “Well, I will be going now. Goodbye, Park. If we are fortunate, we will not be crossing paths anymore now that the detentions are over.”

As you left the classroom, the door shutting after you with a loud click, Jimin finally looked behind himself and let out a heavy sign before unceremoniously grabbing his left arm and pushing up the sleeve roughly to look at the snake emblem that was throbbing and pulsating across the stretch of skin that covered his forearm, the sight of it making him want to upend his breakfast. The Dark Lord was angry and Jimin feared that a summoning was near in his future.

…

You did not see Jimin again for a very long time. When it happened, however, you were grateful for it. You had turned to spending all of your weekends at Hogwarts wandering around the place. Visits to Hogsmeade village had been banned while all clubs and sports teams had been coerced into disbanding after Headmaster Snape had reinstated Educational Decree no. Twenty-Four: “No student organizations, societies, teams, groups and clubs may exist without the knowledge and approval of the Headmaster.” He even went so far as to forbidding students from residing in each other’s companies in groups of three or more. It was like Choi had taken over Hogwarts, once again. And after dealing with the mess that Choi had left behind on your OWL examination year, you were less than enthused to deal with it while studying for your NEWT examinations

With so much being forbidden to the students, you took to spending your time looking for hiding places in the castle; the less you were seen by the new Professors, and the new wave of students running around with badges from the reinstated Inquisitorial Squad pinned to their chest, hell-bent on punishing students and making their lives miserable, the better.

It was on one such weekend that you were wandering around the sixth floor of the castle when you came across a space that looked like it used to be a medieval torture room. However, it looked as though it been recently been put to service again since, when you scanned your eyes around the room for a second time, you noticed that there were three students tied to stakes with cursed chains that were covered in black ichor that was turning their skins greenish and diseased. Bile started to rise up in your mouth as you watched the unconscious forms writhing and twitching intermittently. An overwhelming sense of horror and disgust overtook you as you immediately began to wrack your brain trying to figure out how to release the poor students from their bindings.

You decided against pulling at the knots that held them captive; you knew better than to let your bare hands come into contact with the chains since you had grown up around magic your entire life and had been taught better. You decided to, instead, test out all the spells you knew that would normally work in situations like this: concentrated unlocking spells, targeted explosive spells, and advanced transfiguration spells that would hopefully transform the harsh metal cuffs into something softer and more harmless, like putty, that you could easily break them out of.

The students did not notice your growing despair as you began to wonder if they were dying, after all, you had no idea how long they had been in that state or how many days they had gone without food or water, or even access to the facilities. After close to half an hour of struggling, wracking your brain for everything you could possibly think of, you sank down onto the dirty and dusty floor of the formerly unused room. You wondered if perhaps, you could come back here with food to simply keep them company until they woke up, if they woke up, and then you could offer them the food to see if they could keep anything down.

As you hastily got up to hurry along to the Kitchens and then return to the Sixth floor with a cornucopia of food, you belatedly realized that you never thought to ask the other Professors for help: not the head of your house, Professor Kim Taeyeon, or even the Headmaster, Snape. It was probably for the best, you decided; you did not know how much authority or sway they had over the Lees, even the Headmaster, and you did not want to get them into hot water with the Dark regime. A visit from the Dark Lord, or any of his followers, was the last thing that the students at Hogwarts needed.

The school’s kitchens were located on the basement floor of the castle, near the Hufflepuff common area although you did not know where the exact location of the Hufflepuff’s dormitories was. However, you did know where the Kitchens were; in your Fourth year, you had had to sneak down to the Kitchens with your best friend Im Nayeon to get food for the party the Gryffindors were having after the Chosen One had saved his best friend from potential drowning during the second Triwizard tournament. You had used it in your Sixth year, too, when you were always too busy completing the assigned coursework from your NEWT classes to go to the Great Hall during the assigned mealtimes.

You had not visited them once, however, since the current school year had started, and you did not know if there were now watchdogs watching the entrance to the Kitchen to stop students from sneaking extra meals. Thus, you decided to play it on the safe side and be a little more cautious as you used the castle’s most deserted hallways and secreted shortcuts to get down to the basement level. The password to enter the Kitchens had not changed as you quickly found yourself watching the painting of the bowl of fruits swing forward to reveal the portrait hole for you to climb through after you had tickled the plethora of fruits in a specific order to gain access inside.

Inside, however, the house elves were more subdued than you had ever seen them. They worked quickly, and efficiently, without conversation and did not pay any heed to your intrusion. In fact, they ignored you so blatantly outright that you began to wonder if they had been forbidden from communicating with the students. You still needed food, despite the setback, so you approached one of the elves and asked for a basket of food: fruits, bread, cheese, slices of meat loaf, chicken strips, roasted potatoes, and flasks of orange and pumpkin juice. The elves went to work hastily preparing your basket, piling up food in the hamper so high that you did not see how it would be possible for you to drag it up seven floors. You asked one of the elves, the one who looked slightly nicer than the others, and had been the first to spring into action, fixing up the food for you, if he could transfigure the basket for you so that it would be small enough for you to slip into the pocket of your black school robes. You figured that a simple enlargement charm later would be enough to return the food to its normal size later.

As you passed the head of the hallway that had led you to the Kitchens, you did not notice that there had indeed been a watchdog that was guarding the entrance. Fortunately for you, that person had been Jimin. And as he watched you traipse up the stairs, with a suspecting scowl gracing his face, he decided he had nothing better to do than to follow you to your destination.

Jimin burst into the room where you were watching over the three unfortunate students just after you had transformed the basket of food back to its normal size. “What are you doing, Y/L/N,” he panted breathlessly at your back; he had not known that following you would mean he would have to trek across half the castle. You jumped in surprise at the intrusion.

“Oh, hello Park,” you said glumly. “I don’t know how to free them,” you sighed as you gestured towards the captive students whose names you did not know. All you could see were the badges pinned to their school robes and their ties that dangled limply from their throats. They were two Gryffindors and a Hufflepuff, so you did not expect Jimin to care like you did. “I don’t understand what they could have possibly done to merit this punishment.”

Jimin strode towards you, his gaze flitting between the students who were chained to the crosses like some sort of pagan sacrifice to the gods. “You should not be here, Y/L/N, you will only get into trouble if you are caught. You cannot afford to be on the Lees’ radar.”

“I know that,” you muttered bitterly, “But I can’t just leave them here. I don’t expect you to understand. You probably don’t even have a fully functioning conscience. But I can’t, in good faith, leave them here like this. I have to try to help.”

“Leave the food here,” Jimin said abruptly. “Leave it here. I will ensure that they receive it. But you simply cannot be here Y/L/N. You are making it worse for everyone. If you get caught trying to free them, which I doubt you know how to do successfully, it will have disastrous consequences, not only for you but for them. And what of me? The castle is alive, Y/L/N. There is not a thing that happens within these walls that can be kept a secret. Once it is revealed that I found you here and did absolutely nothing about it, I will be in a heap of trouble as well. So, I am begging you, Y/L/N, use your brain for once. Don’t think with your goddamn heart, which is all you thickheaded Gryffindors know to do, and leave the situation to me. I will deal with it. And I know how to cover up my own tracks.”

“Why can’t I stay and help you?” you asked, feeling suspicious of Jimin and not trusting him to actually deal with the situation adequately.

“You cannot be my accessory, Y/L/N,” Jimin sighed exasperatedly, “Especially since you cannot cover your own tracks. How else do you think it is that I was able to follow you up here without your knowledge?”

“Fine,” you relented, “Get the job done Park, I am– trusting you,” you muttered, uttering four words you never thought you would use in relation to Park Jimin.

Jimin waited five minutes after you left to summon his house elf, Chimmy, into the room. “Master Park,” the house elf, in the pale-yellow pinstriped pillowcase, greeted, bowing deeply, “How may I assist you?”

“Go to my dormitory and bring the spell book with the purple leather cover and the silver gilded pages. Bring two of the potions in my potions case too. The pale blue one with the aluminum stopper and the lavender one with the rose quartz screw,” Jimin said, furrowing his brows deep in thought.

Once Chimmy was back with the potions and the spell book, Jimin grabbed them from the house elf swiftly. He slipped the potion vials into his pocket and flipped through the spell book rapidly; he was looking for the section on magical entrapments and bindings. He soon found the spell he had been looking for, four pages into the section, and marched towards the first unconscious student. The spell was a nonverbal one, so Jimin pointed his wand at the cuffs that were entrapping her, stiffly and recited the spell in his mind. The spell miraculously worked and freed her left hand from the chains. He then went to perform the spell at the bindings at her feet and other hand, moving to catch her when she fell forward after being freed completely. He sat her down, propped against the wall, before he went to do the same thing to the two boys.

It was then that he brought out the lavender potion from the folds of his robe. It was a healing potion, one that he had brewed in Professor Kim Heechul’s class last month. Most days Professor Heechul did not give them any real instruction anymore and instead told them to feel free to make whatever they desired; Jimin used the opportunity to brew potions that would be useful in a variety of situations, especially since Professor Heechul had made the all of the supplies in the Potions’ cupboards available to them. With a few drops of his potion on the surfaces of skin that had been affected by the black ichor, they began to rapidly heal before his eyes.

The pale blue potion was a rejuvenating one that would hopefully wake the three from their stupor. But before that, Jimin had to figure out what to do with the students; he could not just free them to send them back to the masses that roamed the castle when they were wanted personnel. They would only be brought back here or transferred to even worse holding quarters. Not only that, but with the Headmaster’s potion-making prowess, they could be force-fed Veritaserum and reveal that it had been he, Jimin, who had freed them.

He was thinking about how to get the three of them out of the school grounds without being undetected when he remembered the story that Kim Hanbin had told him of being trapped in the Vanishing Cabinets in the Room of Requirement in their Fifth year. He was pretty certain that that had been the way that Min Yoongi had gotten the Death Eaters to storm the castle the previous June, although he had not exactly been privy to his plans. He wondered if there were other methods of escape that could be sought in the Room of Requirement.

With his mind made, he took out the final potion from his pocket and dropped it underneath each of the three’s tongues. When they all awoke to see their Head Boy glaring at them for being put in this situation, they were all understandably a little scared. Jimin shoved the basket of food in one of their arms and told them to follow him through one of Hogwarts’ abandoned passages to the Room of Requirement that was located one floor above them.

In front of the Room of Requirement, Jimin strutted across it three times thinking, “I need a way to get out of the castle,” resolutely. The door that appeared, was one that Jimin was unfamiliar with, a small one made completely of brass with engravings of fairies and other woodland creatures covering it that seemed to be moving across the planes of the door as though it were enchanted. He unceremoniously pulled the door open and shoved the three of them into the Room of Requirement before sealing it and falling to the floor in exhaustion, his back pressed against the now empty stretch of beige wall behind him.

…

It would be too much to hope that no one had noticed what Jimin had done. Two days after he had led the insurgents to freedom, he was called into a meeting with the Lees and the Headmaster.

They asked him what he had been doing on that Sunday, more specifically, why had he left his post in front of the entrance to the Kitchens. They did not believe him when he said that he, feeling that he was going to collapse from exhaustion had felt that the best course of action for him would be return to his rooms to get some, what he felt was very deserved, rest.

They asked him if he had been anywhere near the sixth floor on Sunday. Jimin determined that the Lees were bad at interrogations as he skillfully waded through their questions. Even worse, they were far too impulsive, making rash decisions as they got exceedingly angry from their poor control of their tempers and their inability to get Jimin to revealed what they desired. They wanted to perform the Cruciatus curse on him to torture him into giving up what they thought was the ‘truth.’ When they were told that they could not perform such a spell on Jimin by the Headmaster, who reminded the Lees who Jimin’s family was and their power, they wanted, instead, to shove Veritaserum down his throat. This was also ruled against by the Headmaster who refused to supply the Lees the potion to use on any of his students.

The Headmaster instead suggested that he should apply Legilimency on Jimin and navigate through his mind. With a smirk at the Lees, Jimin readily agreed to have the Headmaster search through his mind. He insisted that he had nothing to hide and that he felt more than comfortable with the Headmaster probing his mind for the truth.

As he stared into Headmaster Snape’s eyes steadfastly, Jimin attempted to clear his mind and paint the scene of him walking from the kitchen straight to the opposite side where the dungeons were and where the Slytherin rooms were located under the Great Lake. He began to add in details: the temperature getting lower, the air feeling increasingly muggy, the gray of the stone walls as he passed through them, his black leather shoes with wooden soles making an echoing sound every time they hit the cobbled floor. He painted the picture of him stepping in front of the entrance to the Slytherin Common Room, of him uttering “Ophiuchus,” under his breath so that the stone wall in front of him was split in half, revealing a gigantic room.

The Common Room had seaweed colored walls; it was decked out with heavy leather furniture with iron arms, large side tables and ornate chairs. There was a truly massive silver chandelier hanging from the ceiling that looked as though it was made of nothing, but ropes of silver wrought snakes tangled with each other. Jimin stopped to stare at a tapestry in the vision that he was painting. He gazed at the woven masterpiece that has Salazar Slytherin, himself, directing a monstrous Basilisk into battle, before swiftly cutting across the room to climb up the stairs on the boys’ side to go to the uppermost landing, letting himself into the special dormitory reserved only for the school’s Head Boy. Jimin smirked as he imagined himself undressing and slipping in between his bed sheets while he was completely nude. For a moment his brow was furrowed, in the present; his gaze stopped on his bedside dresser, in his mind, where there was a piece of paper. It was a schedule of his Head Boy duties; Saturdays are clearly marked to oversee Y/N’s detentions in the morning.

He felt the Headmaster’s foreign presence retreating from his mind, and then heard Snape say snidely, “Mr. Park is telling the truth. Now if you two are done wasting my time, please excuse yourselves from my office.”

The Lees, chastised, rushed towards the doors, no doubt in a hurry to complain to the Chos or the Mins, someone higher up than they were, to report on their behalf to the Dark Lord a complaint about Severus Snape. Jimin moved towards the exit himself, his legs woodenly shifting towards the Lees when the Headmaster’s voice interrupted his thoughts silkily, “Mr. Park I would like to talk to you about your Head Boy duties.”

Jimin stopped in his tracks, and turned back to Snape, “Of course, Headmaster.”

“Take a seat Mr. Park,” Snape drawled, as he swept through the room, his hands tinkering with small magical artifacts. Jimin sat sullenly in front of the large desk Snape had left. His eyes traveled the space in front of him which was decorated with portraits of Hogwart’s previous Headmasters and Headmistresses. Majority of the paintings were empty, with only a murky backdrop remaining in the portraits that their owners had vacated. He saw that the previous Headmasters, including Lee Sooman and Park Jinyoung as well as Albus Dumbledore, were still in their portraits. The last wizard in question was smiling kindly at Jimin while he waited for the current Headmaster to lecture Jimin about how he had known Jimin was lying.

When Snape opened his mouth however, Jimin was surprised: “You need to become more proficient at Occlumency, Mr. Park. A Squib could have waded through your mind and discovered the truth with ease,” he snarled.

“I am sorry Headmaster,” muttered Jimin inclining his head in shame.

“You are entirely unprepared to ever go against the Dark Lord, should he ever seek to look in your mind Park. It is fortunate that you are not against the regime I suppose. But you still do have secrets you want to keep in under the wraps,” Snape drawled, tapping a long forefinger against his jaw.

“Severus, stop being so harsh,” Dumbledore’s voice rang out from the portrait, “I am certain that Jimin has an aptitude for Occlumency.”

“If he does, I have yet to see it,” sniffed Snape. “Park, you are now required to come to my office every Friday at 8pm, unless otherwise specified, for Occlumency lessons. Do I make myself clear?”

“Yes Headmaster,” Jimin replied quickly, as he inclined his body into a fast, respectful 90 degrees bow.

“You may now leave,” Snape said, waving his hand in a careless gesture of dismissal, prompting Jimin to stand up and swiftly exit the room without a backwards glance.

…

It was November when you and Jimin crossed paths again. You had been, once again, on the hunt for the perfect location on the school grounds where you could seek solace and hide from the horrid conditions that had befallen on the inhabitants of the castle. You knew that Quidditch had been banned and thought that this would mean that the Quidditch pitch would be deserted and unkempt since it was no longer being maintained regularly.

The weather on that November day was a little chilly and you decided to seek refuge in the commentator box from the harsh and biting winds. When you had finally reached the top of the steps and swung open the worn-down wooden door to the little office, you found that it was already occupied. The Slytherin Head Boy that you were becoming too well acquainted with, despite your best efforts, was crouched on the messily nailed wooden beams that made up the floor to the office. His nose, red from the cold, was almost pressed against the glass wall he was looking into, out at the Quidditch pitch. His silvery gray hair was a windswept mess on top of his head, and he was bundled into a thick winter coat in Slytherin green, his Head Boy badge was pinned to his chest, and a well-used and well-loved Firebolt laid next to his booted feet.

“Sorry,” you muttered when he looked up at your intrusion, a sharp blast of wind entering the room notifying him of your entry. “I did not think that anyone would be here right now.”

Jimin straightened up and brushed off the dirt and dust from his charcoal gray pant legs. “Were you, too, looking for some place to seek solace?” he asked, not unkindly.

“These days I don’t feel welcome anywhere in the castle,” you admitted, “I had hoped to find some place that I could be alone for a bit and seek respite.”

“It has been hard,” Jimin agreed, “And you feel so entirely alone in the world. You don’t see a point of continuing to move forward.”

At that you turned your head sharply to face Jimin and gaze into his eyes, searching for you don’t know what, in his expression. You had not thought that Jimin could have also been having a hard time. He was a Pureblooded Slytherin was he not? His parents were even rumored to have Pureblood fanatical inclinations although they had never been tried for being Death Eaters themselves. The people who shared the same beliefs and principles with him were the ones that were in power.

But then you thought of the Jimin who had taught you, though unwillingly, how to throw off the Cruciatus Curse and to make the most of your punishment instead of treating you like you were less than human and just torturing you mercilessly for the hell of it. You thought of the Jimin who had helped you free those students. Perhaps there was more to Park Jimin after all: more to the Head Boy than the mask that he had chosen to don for all of the castle to see.

“It would be a shame if we had to give this place up,” you replied looking around the tiny mostly wooden and glass room, “I am content with sharing this place with you Park, for us to escape to when we have nowhere else to go.”

…

The winter holiday meant that on the first week of December, Jimin found himself packing up his school trunk with a large stack of textbooks in order to stay on top of his winter coursework over the holidays. He also put in his trunk a bundle of clothing and an odd amalgamation of things he was no longer regularly making use of to drop off at home in exchange for the new crap his parents had likely bought him to replace them.

Dragging his trunk with him to the front of the school, he boarded a Thestral drawn carriage. After the events of the spring and summer, he could unfortunately see the ghostly skeletal winged horses that pulled the school carriages.

The carriages could fit four but when Kim Taehyung, Jeon Jungkook, and Choi Yeonjun tried to enter the one Jimin was cozied in, he kicked the door shut in their faces and rapped his knuckles against the roof of the carriage to urge the Thestrals to a trot in the direction of Hogsmeade Village.

Jimin was not looking forward to patrolling the halls of the Hogwarts Express or conducting a meeting in the Prefects’ compartment with his co-Head Jennie Kim. He was exhausted and in no mood to talk to anyone. All he wanted to do was to get a little shut eye on the train ride before his parents picked him up to take him to the Mins’, where they had been invited for dinner, no doubt with countless other Death Eaters, and left his luggage to be dealt with by their house elves.

Dinner had been nothing special. The Dark Lord had not been there but his devoted servants Cho Sanghee and her husband, Cho Haseul, had been. Jimin knew them to be related to the Mins through Yoongi’s mother but as he watched the Chos strut around the Min Manor with satisfied expressions, that hinted at their cruel manner, on their decidedly ugly and inbred faces, that were a result of marriages amongst the 28 Pureblood families of England for the past 1500 years, Jimin thought he caught glimmers of contempt on the facades of Yoongi’s parents. Their son Yoongi sat blank faced throughout the dinner, much like Jimin, not joining any of the Death Eaters in conversation, and spent the entirety of the meal mindlessly prodding his dinner with his silverware.

Fortunately for Jimin, this was the most contact that he had to make with the Dark Lord’s most fanatical supporters for the duration of his winter holiday. His parents had apparently convinced the Dark Lord that Jimin was too busy with his NEWT studies, Head Boy duties, and post-graduation preparations to be of any use to him in the hunting down and capturing the outlawed protestors and vigilantes. But the Dark Lord took that to mean that Jimin was ready for even more grooming for a position in the Ministry of Magic after his culmination from Hogwarts. He wanted Jimin to follow Yang Hyunsuk, the Imperiused former Head of Magical Law Enforcement that had replaced Seo Taiji as the current Minister of Magic, around and keep watch to make sure he was not acting out of order.

It was two days after Christmas Day, that Jimin, who had flopped down in his bed at two o’clock in the morning after a long day of observing the Minister at the Ministry, had received your Christmas present. The owl that came to his window and rapped not five minutes after Jimin had finally been able to rest his eyes, reminded him of the owl that had intruded into his life that rainy summer night a few months ago and had changed his live irrevocably. This owl like that one had plumage that was a mixture of dark gray and black feathers, and unlike its long-lost cousin who had been drenched from the rain, had only the barest coating of snow covering its coat. Tied under its talon-ed feet, was a beautifully wrapped gift in black paper with silver stars that was tied together with a thick ribbon of Slytherin emerald green. The ribbon had a card attached to it. There was no name of the sender, but on one side the return address in Ilkley was visible. On the other side of the card, all that was written was, “I hope this gift finds you well. Happy Christmas, Jimin.”

Somehow, Jimin had instantly known that the gift had been from you. He supposed that you had omitted your name and entire address because you had been wary of the gift falling into his parents’ hands. Carefully pulling apart the wrapping paper, Jimin found a thin golden box within, the kind of box that typically used to hold jewelry inside. His guess had been correct: within the box had been a thin silver chain with a tiny circular disc that was maybe a tenth of the size of a Knut and had a J engraved in the middle and one emerald stone next to it.

He immediately took the necklace out of the box and unclasped it to adorn his neck. It fell to the top of his sternum and was low enough that it could be hidden by the collars of most of Jimin’s shirts. He wanted to Apparate to you immediately and ask you why you had given him a Christmas gift when he had given you nothing but the pain from more placements of Cruciatus Curses than either of you could be bothered to count.

His gaze dropped to the golden watch adorning his left wrist. It had stars instead of clock hands and had been given to him by his parents on his seventeenth birthday. Time had gone by swiftly as Jimin had examined your gift and it was now three in the morning. There was no way that you would be awake at this time if he had gone to bother you. Jimin could not find it in himself to rouse you out of bed to answer his questions though they were pressing him. He simply gave your pet owl some treats before ushering it out the window and going to bed himself. He would go visit you after he had arranged someone to take his place to trail the Minister and had secured a few days off for himself. Hopefully, if Jimin was successful, he would be able to have a real vacation until school started up again after the New Year began.

…

Apparating to the Ilkley parish in West Yorkshire, Jimin appeared out of thin air to stand on a meadow in the Northern English countryside. A thin coating of snow covered the field that Jimin was standing on and across from him, he could see a wooden fence caging in sheep to keep them from wandering over his way. It was likely that your mother was the Secret Keeper of your home so Jimin would be out of luck in trying to find you unless you went outside your home. He was confident in his belief that you would; after all, instead of staying cooped up in the Gryffindor dormitory, where you were undoubtedly the safest in the castle, you always chose to wander around.

After walking around the village for a bit, where it appeared that both wizards and Muggles lived together, Jimin noticed that everyone was rather subdued and stuck to themselves. The wizards were wary of interacting with the Muggles they shared their community with, fearful of being looked upon as Muggle sympathizers. And the Muggles stuck to themselves, suspicious about strangers after the increase in missing persons and inexplicable rise in deaths and murders all over Britain. Walking into a small but tidy ice cream shop, Jimin was reminded of Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlour’s in Diagon Alley. The ice cream parlor had been boarded up and remained closed since the Dark Lord had gotten his followers to drag off the owner, but in Jimin’s youth it had always been his favorite place to grab a cold treat with its extensive collection of eccentric and tasty ice cream flavors before he rushed over to Quality Quidditch Supplies to stare at the window displays of the newest professional broomsticks.

This shop did not have the multitude of flavors that Fortescue's did, so Jimin asked for a two-scoop cup of basic vanilla and plain chocolate. With his purchase made, he walked out of place to go find a seat at the park he had passed by earlier. Sitting on the slightly damp black iron bench, Jimin realized that getting ice cream on such a cold day was probably counterintuitive. However, as the creamy vanilla dessert dissolved on his tongue, and he tasted its rich and sweet flavor, he realized that sometimes good things have to hurt for you to understand and appreciate their value.

The park was not entirely deserted and as Jimin sat there watching families of Muggles build snowmen with their children and create snow figures on the ground with their bodies,  he saw a lone female figure wearing a fluffy white Sherpa coat with a scarlet and gold scarf wrapped around her neck.

For someone who had Muggle blood, you certainly did not know how to blend in with them. You stuck out to him so obviously, with the crimson and gold of your Gryffindor scarf acting like a beacon amidst the white of all the fallen snow that was surrounding the village. He doubted that you knew he was here now, in West Yorkshire, looking for you. He stopped twenty paces away from you, indistinguishable from the other patrons of the park with his dark long overcoat and his black hair that was tucked under a dark gray newsboy’s cap. You looked so peaceful, sitting on the icy metal bench as you took in the view of the frozen lake before the two of you. Unfortunately, Jimin could not let you remain in your serene state of tranquility. He had pressing matters to tend to that concerned you.

Hearing the loud crunch of snow beneath boots coming towards you, you looked up curiously and let out a quiet gasp when you saw Park Jimin standing before you. He stood wordlessly before you, glaring at you intensely as he took you in from head to toe. Clearing your throat nervously, you stammered, “What are you doing in West Yorkshire Park? Somehow, I imagined you living somewhere more refined and stylish like Surrey or Buckinghamshire.”

“Oh,” murmured Jimin letting out a low throaty chuckle, that made your face pinch with anxiety, “I’m visiting.”

“I wasn’t aware you really had living family outside your parents,” you muttered almost inaudibly.

Jimin raised an eyebrow at that, “Oh I am not visiting family, Y/L/N.” The same low snarky chuckle came again, “I am visiting the girl who thought it would be appropriate to give me the Christmas gift of an engraved locket.”

Your face burned so hot that not even the biting cold of the winter day could soothe your flushed cheeks. “My apologies Park. I did not mean to make a big deal out of it. I just wished to thank you. That is all.”

Jimin’s face hardened, his facial muscles tightening until there was a severe and harsh look on his face that had nothing to do with the weather, “You wished to thank me Y/N? For performing the Cruciatus Curse on you more than a hundred times? How unusual.”

Looking down, focusing your gaze on Jimin’s waterproof expensive Chelsea boots, which were undoubtedly steel-toed given Jimin’s personality, you forced yourself to reply to his needlessly cruel words, “N-Not for that Jimin. For what happened after.”

Jimin frowned, “Everything I do, is to save my own hide, Y/N. You can’t.”

“I can’t what?” you asked, your eyes watering from the sting of the cold weather, and something more, “I know what I can’t do Jimin.”

“Then why did you send me the gift?” he asked rudely.

“So, what if I did, Jimin?” you bit out, “Why did you come for me afterwards?”

“You know why,” he grated out, “I had to find out why.”

“Are you sure?” you asked looking defiantly at him, you gaze locked to the hollow of his neck, “Is that why you are wearing it?”

“You are a masochist,” Jimin whispered coming towards you, answering the question he had asked you at the beginning of that first detention. As you moved to stand up, he grabbed you behind the neck pulling your face close to his. As you moved towards him, your eyelids flickering shut and your lips moving towards his expectantly, you felt the most unpleasant sensation of everything pressing at you from all directions all at once. The pair of you were enveloped in darkness as your body felt like it was being compressed into a narrow tube with your limbs contorting to fit inside. Within seconds it was over, and you found yourself with Jimin standing outside of some place that was definitely not West Yorkshire, as you were standing on the cobblestones in a rather untidy alley.

“You,” your voice was filled with rage, “Where did you Apparate us to?” You could not believe his audacity. Immediately, you were reminded of how he was a Slytherin and in the back pockets of the Death Eaters that ruled over Hogwarts presently. Giving him the gift had been a mistake. Had he Apparated you to your doom? Was he going to turn you over to the Ministry and claim that you were an Undesirable? You had tried your hardest to slip under the radar and hide your sympathy for the Chosen One and his cause.

Jimin appeared unaffected by the caustic bite in your tone, “Paris. You wanted to be romanced by a man who is clearly not right for you. You’re obviously a glutton for punishment,” his voice rang out as he started walking.

You could not control your feet to keep from following him. You could have just as easily Apparated home, but for some reason you did not. “I’m not a MASOCHIST!” you protested as you chased after Jimin.

When you caught up to Jimin, the Slytherin looked more at ease and more carefree than you had ever seen him. He had tucked his dark gray cap into his coat’s pocket and had let his usually severe hair, that was normally stiffened by gel, get ruffled by the wind. His hair looked so soft, and there was a rosy flush on his cheeks that made you notice for the first time, the light scattering of pale freckles across the plump planes of his face. His thick plaid scarf dangled loosely around his neck instead of being meticulously wrapped around his neck and tucked into his coat. He raised an eyebrow at you roguishly when he noticed you staring at him with your mouth open in amazement. “What?” he asked lightly, “Close your mouth Y/N. You don’t want a Doxy to fly in it.”

“You look–” you paused, stopping before you had almost blurted out beautiful. “Different. When did you dye your hair back to black?” you said instead.

You tried to convince yourself that you were imagining that slight look of disappointment that appeared on his face before he opened his mouth to reply to you, “Apparently silver is an unprofessional hair color.”

“Is it?” you murmured, sneaking your hand around his right one and grabbing a hold of it.

Jimin stopped so abruptly in the middle of the sidewalk that the other passersby had to step around the two of you. He looked down at the joined hands, seeming to wrestle with something within the confines of his mind. After a moment, he seemed to have come to a decision. His hand tightened around yours and he picked up his pace, pulling you gently along with him. You thought he had forgotten that you had asked him a question until he answered five minutes later, “My parents want me to work as a Junior Assistant for Minister Yang when I graduate from Hogwarts.”

You frowned, realizing the harsh reality of the world the two of you were currently living in. Jimin was expected to go to work in the Ministry of the Magic after Seventh year was over. You did not think that he was a Death Eater, but as a Pureblood he would have to undoubtedly keep up certain appearances. Would Jimin be helping the Ministry pass even more laws that ensured the disenfranchisement of Muggleborns and other magical beings? As for you and what you would be doing in the spring after graduation? Your father had gone into hiding in North America, although your mother would not tell you where exactly, fearing that you would break down under one of the Lees’ extreme punishments and reveal it. You thought your mother would want the two of you to join him and his family; to create a new life for all of you there, where the effect of Europe’s warfare was still minimal.

“Do you want to go to the Louvre?” Jimin asked.

“I didn’t know that you were interested in Muggle art, Park,” you replied.

Jimin rolled his eyes, “I’m hardly going to take you to the Museum of the History of European Wizardry, Y/N. The point of this trip was to feel free to be ourselves without having to constantly look over our shoulders. Unfortunately, that means that we have to surround ourselves with Muggles. But I didn’t think that you’d mind.”

Your face tightened, a fraction, in displeasure. Park Jimin was such an asshole. He probably was not even aware of it half the time. You tried to convince yourself that this part of his character could be worked on and fixed. He had been raised to be an annoying bigoted asshole. You knew there was more to him, or else he would have never ‘debased’ himself to spend time with you and to see you as a romantic interest.

As you two walked closer to the Musée du Louvre, its glass pyramid structures came into view. You sighed wistfully, when would you have another chance to be in Paris again? If Voldemort’s plans moved on to France after he was done razing England to the ground, there was no saying that the impressive and centuries old structures of France would remain standing afterwards. You were just wishing that you could take a picture of yourself in front of the museum as a permanent record of this day when Jimin pulled his hand off of yours to reach into his front coat pocket to take out a small black pouch. You looked at him curiously. What was Park up to now?

He pulled his entire arm into the tiny pouch which made you gasp in mild horror before you realized that he most likely had bespelled it with an Undetectable Extension Charm. One would think that by now you would be used to sights of magic in front of you, but it still managed to surprise you every single day. From within the cavernous confines of his bag, Jimin pulled out a clunky Polaroid camera that made you stifle a small giggle when you thought of your father and his impressive Canon cameras. “Do you want a polaroid of you in front of the Louvre?” he asked.

Reaching for his hand and dragging him to a place where you were sure you would be able to capture both the massive building and the impressive pyramids behind you, you replied, “Only if we are both in the picture.”

Hours later when you were lying in bed at your mother’s cottage, able to hear her tea kettle making a loud whistling noise that carried its way into your room, you recounted the events of the day. You thought of the wine Jimin had stolen, since the two of you were still not adults in the Muggle world (you had left a 20 euro note at the register without him noticing) and the warm cheesy corniottes wrapped in newspaper you two had shared as you stared at the self-facing Polaroid he had managed to get the two of you in front of the Lourve. The tiny Y/N in the image was smiling brighter than you had in the past two years and the tiny Jimin’s smirk in the image could almost be mistaken for a smile if you squinted. Jimin had written in his spiky tiny handwriting on the white border of the Polaroid, “12/28/97 – I long to feel this calm for the rest of my life.”

Sighing, you sat up in bed and turned to tuck the photograph inside your pillowcase. You did not see how you and Jimin could ever have more than that one magical day in Paris, without magic, between the two of you. When the term started up again and the two of you returned to classes, you would have to pretend that the other did not exist for either of you, once again.

…

 You were a fool in love. That was the only thing that could explain why you had helped Jeon Jungkook graffiti the castle walls with red paint. The rebellious Gryffindors and you had taken to seeking out in the middle of the night to inscribe Dumbledore’s Army, Still Recruiting and other incendiary remarks that had irritated Headmaster Snape to no end. Sometimes you felt a little guilty. The others were putting their lives on the line because they truly believed in the cause and were fighting for all magical beings, no matter their background. And while you did believe the same, you were not as passionate or outspoken as your House mates. You were doing it to get the attention of the antisocial Head Boy who had gone back to pretending that you did not exist the moment the two of you had stepped back on to the Hogwarts’ grounds after the New Year’s holiday.

It was like Jimin no longer cared about you; that one miraculous day in Paris was so buried in the deepest fissures of his subconscious that he could not call it up to the surface. You had half the mind to Stupefy him and drag him to the Headmaster’s office where you had heard that Snape kept a Pensieve. Perhaps when he was forced to watch your memories with you, he would finally be forced to admit that what the two of you had shared on one of the last days of 1997 had been something special.

When it was finally time for the Easter holiday, you were forced to admit that perhaps you had to give up on Park Jimin. The war still waged on and the Light side was losing badly. You tried to keep up to date with the current events by listening to Goldenwatch radio broadcasts but the punishments for conspiring against Voldemort kept escalating. Kim Yerim had never come back after the Christmas holiday, taken because her mother, Irene, was a journalist who had become too outspoken on her publication, Red Velvet. With radio frequencies being controlled, the magazine Red Velvet being out of print, and every way of communication being watched, it was hard for anyone to keep up with the war in real-time. News of the Light side was hard to come by; the Dark Lord and his followers were doing everything they could to have their opponents scared, ignorant, and divided.

Every time you took a stand against the Headmaster or his minions, you were afraid for your mother’s life. What if the army of Snatchers, the wizards and witches that were not given the distinction of being worthy enough to be Death Eaters, which included the likes of the werewolf Kang Jihwan, came for your mother? You would never forgive yourself if your mother was attacked by werewolves, giants, or other dark creatures because of you. Furthermore, when the Lees started to chain students again, like the ones you and Jimin had saved, a Ravenclaw had gotten caught trying to release them. The torture they had put the male through had terrified you, even more so because his fate had been so close to being yours.

You had lost weight due to all the duress you had been under. All the students at Hogwarts were looking worse for wear. Easter could not come soon enough. And when it did, you were careful to leave the things that you could live without behind in your dormitory so that the Lees did not get suspicious of you leaving Hogwarts forever. The moment a student left, they were hunted down like a criminal. The crime? Not complying with the compulsory school attendance that the Ministry had decreed. When the time came for you to lug your trunk onto the Hogwarts Express, you found yourself reminded of the first day of the school year, when you had run into Jimin and almost pissed your robes. How things had changed so drastically in only a few months, you thought wistfully. Now you would do almost anything to run into him, to grab his attention.

Jimin was right, you thought bitterly, you were a glutton for punishment and absolutely a masochist. He was a pureblood enthusiast though he appeared to be mellowing and not so steadfast with retaining the Death Eater’s fascist ideas anymore. But it was embarrassing the way that you had fallen for a male who had literally compared you to vermin not so recently. To be fair, it was not like you used to have a good impression of Park or had held him to a high standard either. But sometimes you hated yourself for falling for someone who was literally associated with people who murdered people like your father for fun. It was a game for them. They got off on Muggle-baiting.

With your thoughts spinning around your mind like a turbulent tornado, and upsetting your stomach, you thought that maybe it was for the best that you had not caught a last glimpse of Park before you left him forever.

…

While you sat in a train compartment towards the end of the scarlet Hogwarts’ Express trying your best not to remain calm and nonchalant, so as not to raise suspicions about your intentions to drop out of school, fearful of getting hunted by the armed wizards that would be guarding Platform Nine and Three Quarters, Jimin sat alone in the Prefect compartment behind the teachers’ cabins. He had long kicked out the other Prefects and the Head Girl, removing them at the beginning of the trip, with them knowing better than to argue with Jimin and against his actions. Although it was rare for the Head Boy to lose his temper, it had been known to happen a few rare times in the past, and everyone at school was aware of how dangerous and volatile an enraged Park could be.

Jimin had spent the last two months going over to the Headmaster’s office late at night to practice Occlumency. Although he had thought he was improving, every lesson had ended with the headmaster snarling at him and calling him incompetent while throwing jabs at Jimin’s family tree. And if Professor Snape truly was right and Jimin was no better off than he was when he had started, then it had all been for nothing. Even more so for naught, because Jimin had been having a growing sense of unease and unsettlement, as the Lees whiffed around him every single day with increasingly harsh attitudes that were revealing of their suspicion surrounding Jimin.

He had no idea what was making them watch over him so carefully. He had no way of knowing if he had done anything to cause them to be wary over his motives, but it was exhausting trying to keep up the façade. The Dark Arts and Muggle Studies bored him, and although he could have gotten away with skipping half of the lessons earlier in the school year, citing boredom as his excuse, that was no longer the case as the Lees expected him to show up promptly to each lesson and put a hundred percent of his concentration into their teachings. The siblings also did not believe that he had prior knowledge of necromancy or curses like Fiendfyre, and thus felt that they were teaching him things that were truly worth knowing. That part was debatable; no one needed such an extensive overview of the Dark Arts. Every lesson left him feeling worse for wear mentally, physically, and emotionally. He would often find himself ducking into the girl’s bathroom on the second floor, where only the Moaning Myrtle could be found, to throw up the contents of his breakfast or lunch hunched over one of the many porcelain bowls. The Dark Arts were disturbing and criminal. No wonder they were outlawed, thought Jimin bitterly as he remembered the ordeal that was the winter term. Even more so than that, he remembered the portrait of Albus Dumbledore telling him, after one of his many Occlumency lessons, that every time Dark magic was used, it left an irremovable stain on a person’s soul. The previous Headmaster had cautioned Jimin’s usage of Dark Magic, telling him to only use it in the situations where he saw no other options. Jimin had scoffed at his providence at the time, but with every lesson with the Lees, he grew further apprehensive about the state of his soul and its uncontrollable deterioration. It was a little reminiscent of Dorian Gray who Y/N had told him about during their momentary bit of solitude away from the War a few days before the New Year.

Speaking of the two irritating nuisances in his life, before he had boarded the Express, Lee Seunghyun, the Dark Arts professor, had slipped a sealed, presumably cursed, envelope into Jimin’s hand. The note apparently contained directives from the Dark Lord on how Jimin was to spend his Easter holiday. If anyone other than Jimin broke the seal, they would be inflicted with whatever curse or hex the Dark Lord had bespelled it with. And with the Dark Lord being such a formidable and powerful wizard, even the Lees had not risked it and tried to see what was within the confines of the envelope. Now, Jimin bitterly took it out of the folds of his black school robes, slipping one of his fingers underneath the triangular flap to break open the dark green seal with the Dark mark imprinted on it. Within it, Jimin found a curt missive detailing his duties for the spring vacation which included rushing off to the Min Manor the second that he set foot on Platform Nine and Three Quarters. Apparently, the Dark Lord would not be there, but Mins would give Jimin further instruction.

Because Jimin was loathsome to ever fall asleep in a public space and leave himself vulnerable to threats, he decided instead to rest his forehead against the cool glass of the train and watch as the trees and hills went by in a heavenly green blur and slowly turned into the gray and polluted landscape of London. Once at the platform, after he had transfigured his luggage to be a size that he could easily slip within the deep pockets of his coat, he Apparated a tenth of a mile away from the Min Manor. The narrow lane that lead to the entrance of the Min Manor had on one side of it, the formerly neatly manicured hedges that made up the perimeter of the Min property and on the other, wild low hanging brambles. As he approached the wide driveway at the end of the lane, thick high iron wrought gates suddenly became visible. With hardly a sidestep, Jimin confidently rose his left arm, the one disfigured with the emblem of the Death Eaters and went straight through the metal as though it were as thin and vaporous as smoke. The spell that the Dark Lord had casted over the entrance was similar to the magic which made up the protective barrier at the King’s Cross station.

The air within the manor was stiff with an almost grim and hostile silence surrounding it. When it was broken by the shrill cry of what Jimin thought was a screaming infant, he almost jumped in the air at the unpleasant intrusion. As he walked towards the magnificent dining room that the Mins had used to hold extravagant gatherings in the past, where Purebloods used to dance and rejoice in their wealth and magical abilities, he was once again struck by the change to the formerly grand home. The centuries old stunning furniture that furnished the room were pushed against the walls, harshly stabbing into the soft gilded silk wallpaper. The giant fireplace was unlit, and the room was filled with an uncomfortable chill. At the head of the table sat Min Yeonsoo, cradling a baby bundled in a clean swath of fabric with a spiteful look on her face. Jimin’s classmate Yoongi was nowhere to be seen. He had had a higher position with the Dark Lord than Jimin had and had stopped attending classes after Christmas. Jimin had to wonder however, if the reason Yoongi was not at Hogwarts was because the Mins had let the Golden Trio escape, and the Dark Lord had wanted to exact his wrath and displeasure on them.

Before Jimin could clear his throat to reveal his presence, Cho Sanghee entered the room in a furious flurry of billowing dark robes. She looked gaunter and more maniacal than ever, causing Jimin to take a step back. He quickly uttered a prayer begging the heavens that Sanghee was not the one who would be telling him why he was at the manor, but luck was not on his side.

With a crazed screeching laugh that raised the hairs on Jimin’s neck and instantly put him on guard, Sanghee crooked a long filthy fingernail at Jimin, gesturing at him to come closer. Stifling a shudder, he obliged her, stopping well over five feet away. “The Dark Lord wants you to take of a delivery for him little Park.”

Jimin clenched his teeth in response to the address but did not retaliate, knowing better than to antagonize the Dark Lord’s most devoted servant when he himself held such a low position in the Dark Lord’s eyes. “Of course, Mrs. Cho,” he murmured, “And where is this package I am to deliver?”

“I’m so glad you asked little Park,” cackled Sanghee flicking her unruly black curls away with an indolent sweep of her wand, presumably this was a wand that Sanghee had repurposed, or rather stolen, away from one of the Snatchers after the Golden Trio had absconded with hers. “The Dark Lord wishes for you to look over this package and deliver it to Snape at Hogwarts at the end of the week. It is right behind you, little boy.”

With sinking feelings of apprehension and doom, Jimin turned around and swallowed the scream that was struggling to escape from the confines of his throat. Nagini, the Dark Lord’s massive serpent, was slinking towards him through the air, trapped in a giant magical orb of her owner’s creation, no doubt. Jimin was not terrified of snakes. How could he be, as a Slytherin? That being said, there was something unnatural about Nagini that held Jimin back from ever relaxing in her company. The snake had an unignorable intelligence that seemed to be far greater than all the other snakes that Jimin had ever seen. And with the Dark Lord’s ability to converse with his pet in Parseltongue, Jimin had no doubt that Nagini often acted as a spy for him.

He felt trapped within his own skin; this was no ordinary task that was being asked of him. The Dark Lord wished to spy on Jimin and then to spy on the Headmaster. “How is it that the Dark Lord wishes for me to transport Nagini to Headmaster Snape,” Jimin murmured, “I can already imagine the panic on the train platform if I tried to board the Hogwarts’ Express with her in tow.”

A sharp voice cut across the room, “You will not have to deliver Nagini to Severus at Hogwarts,” Yeonsoo bit out acidly, “you merely have to deliver Nagini to his home.” She looked down at the child in her arm with contempt before maneuvering the babe around so that she could use her right hand to write down the Headmaster’s address on a scrap of loose parchment. The question clung to the back of Jimin’s throat, but he bit it down. Whose child was that? Did Yoongi get into even more trouble than Jimin had previously thought?

Jimin walked towards Yeonsoo so that she could easily slip the note into his open palm. After he retrieved it, both sisters walked away from him, leaving him alone in the formal dining room with Nagini. Furrowing his eyebrows as he thought of how to transport her to his home, he decided to just walk out of the manor for now. Nagini had been able to glide through the air of her own volition before, so he hoped that the snake would choose to follow him as he left the room. In times like this, it would have been convenient to have been a Parseltongue, he supposed, but as that was a mark of the noble house of Slytherins, and the Dark Lord was all that remained of the ancient house, he highly doubted that there would ever be more Parseltongues. The thought of someone procreating with the 72-year-old dark wizard made bile rise up in Jimin’s mouth.

Once he had made his way back to the outskirts of the Min property, he finally had the chance to look at the address that was on the now tightly crumpled ball of parchment due to his clenched fist. The Headmaster lived in Spinner’s End, which was unusual as Jimin had never come across the name once in his studies of the magical geography of Great Britain. Deciding to worry about that later, Jimin stood in place with his right arm wrapped tightly around his wand as Nagini slowly glided to a stop right beside him.

“I hope this works,” Jimin muttered to himself, before raising one arm to place his hand flush against the wall of Nagini’s cage before attempting to Apparate the two of them to the edges of his family property in Surrey. Fortunately he was successful in his endeavors, and as he slowly walked up to the front of the mansion, he was trapped within his swirling thoughts as he worried over not only Nagini watching over him, but owling the Headmaster to arrange for a time that he could drop by with Nagini, and most importantly, how to warn you to stay away from Jimin and maybe to escape from England and not come back. He could convince you that he would follow you after graduation, but you had to get away. Now, more than ever, Jimin knew with a sense of deepening doom, that the Dark Lord’s takeover of Britain was almost complete. It would not be long before he attempted to off The Boy Who Lived to end their wretched tango and moved on to extend his control and reach over the entire European continent.

He delegated Nagini to the empty bedroom at the end of the hall from his. The two rooms were both on the west wing of the house but far enough apart that he had a little privacy. But even that was not enough to shake away Jimin’s fears. Sometimes at night while he laid in bed, he thought that he heard the serpent’s heavy slinking body moving down the hall past his bedroom. His fear grew that one day he would happen upon his owl’s carcass or that of Chimmy’s.

…

The one weeklong break from school felt both unendurably long and ephemerally fleeting both at once. He had penned two short missives to both you and the professor but thus far had received no reply from either of you. The unbearable monotony of his days, as Jimin was fearful of Nagini reporting to the Dark Lord about his whereabouts if he ever left the Park mansion, were only punctuated by the meals that Chimmy served to his room (his parents were both off gallivanting across the countryside torturing Muggles or something of that sort so he rarely met them in the formal dining room for meals together), him taking out Nagini to the manor’s extensive gardens to hunt for her meals, and the unending revisions and studying for the NEWTs Jimin was currently preparing for. It seemed catastrophically ridiculous that the NEWT and OWL examinations were still taking place while the entire country as a literal warzone.

Unfortunately for Jimin, you responded to his letter before Jimin could drop off Nagini at the Headmaster’s. With your letter, where you had told him you would meet him near where he had eaten ice cream last time, you had included three chocolate eggs that, were closer to the size of dragon eggs than chicken’s eggs and, had on them messily scribbled icing depicting Firebolts, Bludgers, and Beater’s bats. You were always surprising Jimin with your gifts and generosity. For someone who had never received anything without stipulations, it was a welcome change for Jimin to receive your presents which did not have any strings or conditions attached to them.

Thus, midway through the holiday, Jimin found himself taking his neglected Firebolt out of its case and electing to fly out of the windows framing his bedroom’s walls rather than to come across Nagini or his parents (who would occasionally show up as mysteriously and unexpectedly as ghosts) in the hallways, if he had chosen to leave through the front door.

The brisk breeze was a welcome presence to Jimin, after being stuck indoors for a majority of the week. He swept through the air on his Firebolt, taking sharp dives and turns, whooping spiritedly as he flew by miles above the buildings in the uncongested sky that was wide open and free, aside from a couple of birds that flew by doing their own thing.

He once again stopped at the long open meadow he had Apparated to last time. As this was a Muggle neighborhood, he decided to transfigure his broomstick to the size of a matchstick he could slip into the breast pocket of his light linen shirt before he took off on his walk. He found the ice cream shop much more easily this time around and decided to get a cup with a single spoon of vanilla ice cream for himself. For you, he got a two-scoop cup of peanut butter and berries n creme ice cream. Once he reached the park, he sat again on the same iron wrought bench from last time, placing your cup besides his thigh as he splayed his legs out and took a bite of the rich vanilla ice cream. He was not going to focus on how he was recreating the last time the two of you had spent time together and how he was making slight changes so that this time would be better.

Like clockwork, you once again appeared in front of him. Stifling a wince, he noticed how you looked at least a stone lighter than you had been last time. Your face was sharp with harsh angles and your cheekbones were jutting out making your face lose the soft round planes that it had had previously. The chocolate eggs you had included with your letter had made Jimin hopeful, but now, looking at you and the hard glare you cut across his figure, he realized that he had to make up for more of his mistakes than he had realized.

“Why are you here Jimin?” you bit out caustically, “What was so important for you to say that you could not say it with a letter.” You were surprised with how easily his owl had found you in Austria. Returning to an empty cottage and a letter from your mother that she was running off to Asia to hide, you had been country hopping to places your mother had not been to confuse the Snatchers that were no doubt tracking your every move and attempting them to prevent them from figuring out your final destination, or capturing both you and your mother. You were mad at yourself for being swayed by Jimin’s letter and coming back to England. But in the end, you had decided to meet up with him if only to convince Jimin that you were still living in West Yorkshire and to throw off the Death Eaters from your trail. Casting a casual look around the park, you attempted to quiet the furious beating of your heart, although no one had realized it yet and raised any alarms, you were technically on the run and you felt very unsafe being back within the borders of England.

Jimin stood and placed the now slightly melted ice cream in your hand, the creamy brown, purple, and white colors were already running into each other and muddling the appearance of the dessert. With a bemused furrow of your eyebrows, you curled your hand around the cup and stabbed the plastic spoon through one of the scoops, dipping a spoonful of sweet, warm, ice cream into your mouth. “Perhaps we should have this conversation somewhere that is not as crowded,” Jimin murmured, walking away without pausing to see if you would follow.

He led the two of you to one of the communal fields that the sheep were grazing on before he turned sharply to gaze deeply into your eyes and say without so much as a preamble, “You need to leave England now.”

You stopped dead, choking as the melted ice cream went down the wrong pipe. That was certainly not what you thought he was going to say. You had thought, after the chocolates and notes were long gone and all you had was your regret to accompany you, that Jimin was going to lay into it today and detail all the reasons the two of you could not be together. After all, he had ignored you pretty thoroughly for all of 1998 thus far. You had thought that had meant he had changed his mind. “I beg your pardon Park?”

Jimin frowned when he noticed you using his last name, distancing yourself even further from him. “I am worried about the future Y/N,” he mumbled.

“You want me to leave? Right now?” you asked, seeking for more clarity.

“As soon as possible Y/N. I don’t want you to get hurt. You have to stay safe,” Jimin bit out vehemently.

“And why is that?” you asked, not giving into him so easily. You wanted Jimin to grovel. You were tired of always being the one who felt out of sorts when the two of you were together.

Jimin sighed. His dark brown eyes fluttered shut as he whispered, “I think I am falling in love with you. I don’t even know that I know what love is, and yet, I am convinced that it is the emotion I feel for you. I know we cannot be together, but all the while, I still long for a possibility that would allow for us to be together.”

Your cheeks felt like they were burning as your blood surged into them, making them a mottled red. You had thought you were infatuated with Jimin. Or perhaps, suffering from some type of Stockholm’s syndrome because like it or not, all of you were forced to attend Hogwarts and Jimin, outside of the few Gryffindors you talked to, was the only person who had noticed you and was kind to you, at times. But never had you considered that it might be love, anytime you got close to feeling anything of the sort, you had thought you were getting brainwashed. Not by Jimin per se, but you had thought that Jimin had had an unreasonable power over you when you contrasted him with all the other Purebloods and Slytherins that inhabited Hogwarts. But now that you knew how he felt about you, you were inclined to believe that you had also fallen in love with him. After all, it was being reciprocated, was it not.

Perhaps the reason why you took that step towards Jimin and tiptoed to meet his lips had a lot to do with you being a Gryffindor. After all, a move like that required a lot of courage, it was perhaps misplaced, but all the same it was courage. The male inclined his neck to make the kiss easier for you to lose yourself in, and you felt yourself getting swept away in his full pink lips. Jimin was a marvelous kisser, he met every swipe of your lips with his own thoroughly, even if he was moving at a patient pace. Slowly though, you felt him get bolder, wrapping his muscle corded arms, bulky from playing the Beater position, around your waist and pulling you deeper into his hold. When he bit your bottom lip to trick you into opening it so that he could slip his tongue into the kiss, you got daring as well. You tiptoed even further, pressing into the warm glorious heat emitting from his body, and reached up into his hair to do what you had always longed to do: to slip your hands into the long straight strands of his dark hair and luxuriate in its softness. You fisted his hair in your grip, your nails raking against his scalp, causing a pleased sound of contentment to escape from Jimin, as you tried to kiss him more soundly. When the two of you finally broke apart minutes later, Jimin was running his tongue over his swollen reddened lips as he looked down at you with want and you were leaning against his solid, reassuring frame, pressing your forehead against his chest as you attempted to catch your breath.

“Do you want to go for a ride on my Firebolt?” he asked abruptly.

You raised an eyebrow as you bit back a laugh, “Very forward Mr. Park.”

Jimin flushed crimson, “I actually flew my broom here instead of Apparating. I wanted to experience the freeing feeling of being in the air rather than getting suctioned into nothingness as I reappeared in a different location.” He patted along the front of his pale linen shirt, feeling around for something before he took out a tiny matchstick from the breast pocket triumphantly. Laying it flat on his left hand, he poked at it with his wand, uttering an enlargement spell as the stick grew to be the full-sized Firebolt you had seen only once before.

Quirking an eyebrow at you daringly, Jimin smirked as if to say, “So? What are you waiting for?” Unfortunately, Gryffindors had never been ones to ignore the ribbing of Slytherins and so you found yourself easily sliding behind Jimin as he sat on his broomstick, waiting for you to get comfortable before he kicked off into the afternoon sky.

You sat on the Firebolt with your arms wrapped tightly along Jimin’s waist and your chin resting on his shoulder as he expertly flew the two of you across the long expanse of cloudless British skies. Striving to impress you, Jimin would often take swift turns and break into complicated moves, maneuvering the two of you into various types of dives and even asking you if you thought you could hold onto him tightly enough for him to attempt a Wronski Feint. You had thumped him soundly on his back and told him you would immediately Apparate off the broomstick if he attempted any more dangerous Quidditch formations.

Subdued into submission, Jimin took you two on a relatively peaceful ride as you were left to wonder why he played the position of the Beater on the Slytherin Quidditch team when he was obviously qualified to play one of the positions that required more dexterity like Chaser or Seeker. When you asked Jimin why he had not played as Seeker he laughed and said that the Mins had paid for Yoongi to be given that position and it would never have been so easily relinquished to him. He also had bitterly added, that by the time Sixth year had rolled around, and Yoongi had left the team to work on his plan to have Death Eaters invade Hogwarts, the team had become accustomed to having Jimin be their star Beater who would always give the Gryffindors hell and did not wish for him to change positions.

You clung to him even more tightly after his admission, feeling sorry for Jimin as he was always surrounded by people who would not allow him to truly be himself. You also were a bit surprised at how readily Jimin had admitted Yoongi’s hand in the events that had led to Headmaster Dumbledore’s death. As Jimin felt your tightening grip around his middle, a soft smile graced his face and he slowly declined the Firebolt as he prepared for the descent to your destination. He stopped in an alley besides a row of townhouses that went down the entire length of the street.

Raising an eyebrow as you attempted to fix your windswept hair, you asked, “Jimin where are we?”

With a smile Jimin responded, “Give me a second,” as he searched his pockets for a scrap of parchment and a self-refilling quill. After biting at the nib of the quill to free the ink, Jimin quickly scrawled down an address in his thin spiky handwriting. “Memorize it,” he muttered, “I’m the Secret Keeper.”

You quickly memorized the lines: Park Jimin’s residence is 0613 Amaranthine Street, London. As soon as Jimin had seen you wordlessly mouth the sentence twice over, he set it on fire with a small incendiary spell. As the two of you made your way out of the alley, Jimin took your hand in his and gently pulled you along to the front of the houses. In front of the two of you, you could see 0612 Amaranthine with its beige exterior and 0614 Amaranthine with its gray walls, however, as you visualized the words on the paper that Jimin had written, 0613 began to materialize between the two homes, pushing them out of the way until it stood before you in its shining white and navy glory.

“So, this is where you live,” you muttered, following Jimin up the walk to the front door. As soon as Jimin’s hand touched the door handle, he was able to push it open with ease since the door was opening as though Jimin himself was the key.

“Not yet,” he uttered, looking back at you as he toed off his shoes at the entrance. Apparently Jimin liked to have a no shoes allowed household, which surprised you. You had always thought of him as the severe type of person who was meticulous about everything right down to the clothes that he worn. “It’s the bachelor lodgings my parents got for me for after graduation. But since I’m still splitting my time between my parents and Hogwarts, it’s been empty for months. Apologies in advance if it’s a little dusty.”

“No this is fine,” you answered him, stepping out of your own shoes and walking deeper into the foyer. You liked the welcoming airy style the house was made up in. The pale colors and expansive windows everywhere provided the home with tons of light that made it appear spacious and inviting.

Jimin let you go through the rooms of the house without interruption. He knew you were touring it trying to gain further insight about him but unfortunately, the home did not have a lot to offer. When his mother had asked him for his opinion on the furniture and décor, Jimin had delegated Chimmy to furnishing the place. You seemed to come to the same realization as Jimin after you finally paused your tour in the master bedroom, turning to face him with a wry expression.

“Are you hungry?” Jimin asked, not knowing how to make things move smoothly for the two of you.

While that day in Paris had been amazing, Jimin could not recreate it by being in public with you now. He was certain he was getting watched by the Dark Lord, although he did not know to which extent besides that of Nagini, but he knew he would be safe here at Amaranthine Street. The home had the same level of protection and security that the Park mansion did; it had been historically used as the first-born Park’s bachelor pad until they got married and moved back to the family mansion. Perhaps the two of you could play Wizarding board games or something, Jimin did not fucking know. He had never really dated anyone, choosing to spend most of his time with the opposite sex cozied in broom cupboards or deserted classrooms for heated make out sessions.

With a mocking laugh, you pulled Jimin into you, “I hardly think you brought me to your home when there’s no adults to sit around and eat together Jimin,” you murmured, threading your fingers through his thick black hair and pulling him down for a kiss.

With slight groan, Jimin deepened the kiss, his teeth nipping at your warm plush lower lip as he strove for the dominance that you, as a Gryffindor would not give him so easily. You fought against Jimin’s warring strokes of tongue and lips against your mouth, not wanting to relinquish your control, as he roughly held you up to elongate the length of the kisses. You were sure that without Jimin gripping you, you would have sunk to the floor as you felt strangely boneless.

Deciding to give you a respite and a chance to catch your breath, Jimin moved his lips to trail heated open mouthed kisses along your jaw and throat with firm pressure from his plush lips as he maneuvered the two of you so that you were pressed up against a wall. Your eyes closed at the pleasurable nips and pecks, the warmth from Jimin’s form taking over you as your senses his scent washed over you. The slightly bitter and sharp scent of orange blossoms that was so quintessentially evocative of Jimin filled your lungs as you ran your hands over his muscle corded back. Playing as the Beater had bulked Jimin up; he had enticingly broad shoulders and thick veiny arms that were holding you up while he did not even break a sweat. As your fingers slipped under his linen shirt and fluttered against his back, Jimin stilled. Shaking his head slightly, he accidentally scrunched his nose at you when he attempted to wink, rather, both of his eyes shut close for a second. Fixing his grip on your thighs, he pushed you even higher and tighter against his body as he maneuvered the two of you towards his bed, which fortunately had clean sheets due to Chimmy coming back and maintaining the house weekly.

As you toppled onto the bed with Jimin falling over you, you gasped, your breath getting knocked out of you although Jimin tried his best to keep from crushing your frame with his body. You had been wearing a pair of white jeans shorts and a pale blue baby-doll T-shirt to battle the early heat of the English spring, and Jimin was now taking advantage of your easy to slip off clothes to unbutton your shorts and slip them down your thighs as he caged you underneath him. The shorts hit the hardwood floors with a resounding thud when Jimin tossed them behind the two of you.

You started to blush when you realized that you only had your daisy printed cotton panties and T-shirt, that had already been sliding up your stomach, to shield you from Jimin’s gaze. With a light laugh, Jimin murmured, “Come on Y/L/N, don’t get shy with me now. You wouldn’t want me to tie your hands up so that you wouldn’t cover yourself now, would you?”

You glared at him, his palm was lying comfortably on top of your clothed mound, hardly realizing the overpowering effect he had on you. If Jimin crooked his finger into the juncture between your thighs, he would find the crotch of your panties soaked from your want. “Aren’t you going to take off your clothes Park?” you bit back.

Jimin scoffed, “That’s a little too easy isn’t it?”

Instead, he hooked his forefinger to the ribboned edge of your panties, pulling it almost entirely off your body. At the last moment, he had gotten distracted by your glistening rose petaled folds and had left it dangling from your left foot. He took out his wand to summon a large selection of cushions and pillows for you to prop your ass on. It was weird having your head resting against the bed’s mattress while your ass was elevated to be level with Park Jimin’s mouth. In fact, just now, he was propping your thighs on his shoulders as he moved closer to your heated core, wanting the sopping wetness of your femininity to be flush against his eager mouth.

As his tongue stabbed through your highly responsive cunt, brushing against the nerves that lined the walls of your hypersensitive core, your nipples stiffened against the cups of the built-in bra of your shirt. In frustration, you found yourself pulling off the material entirely to let the cool air in the bedroom wash over your hardened nipples. Jimin paused in his overzealous adoration of your cunt as he stared at you writhing against his cream-colored bedsheets. “Touch yourself, Y/L/N,” he murmured silkily, “Do it Gryffindor, or I won’t let you come.”

Hesitantly, you moved both of your hands up to cup your breasts. They were heavy and swollen from desire, spilling out of your palms. But staring Jimin down, you rolled your nipples in between your thumbs and forefingers, letting out a loud moan when you pinched them both simultaneously. Deciding to reward you, Jimin added a finger into the mix as he continued to eat out your pussy enthusiastically. You had never had anyone pay such fervent attention to your own pleasure before. The Gryffindor boys that you had usually hooked up with were all focused on the main course. And not only that, but they were all the “one and done” type, never checking to make sure that you had come, much less bothering to give you multiple bouts of pleasure.

After Jimin had brought you to your first screaming orgasm, he knocked the pillows out of the way so that you were in a more comfortable position. He made his way up your body with deep punishing kisses that were full of teasing love bites that you knew would leave your body dotted with bruised purplish hickeys and marks afterwards. Having finally reached your face, he threaded his fingers through your messy unbound hair, pulling your mouth tight against his for a kiss with a deep growl. His body pressed against yours, his heavy cock finding your hidden softness easily, pleasurably unyielding against the juncture of your thighs. He rocked his hips as he deepened the kiss, your lips meeting his feverishly as the two of you battled for domination, your tongues intertwining frantically as moans and pants slipped out both of your lips. His hard, persistent erection had your pussy aching for it, and you found yourself rolling your hips and grinding your enlarged and overly sensitive clit against the hard metal zipper of his pants, eager to have the thick throbbing length trapped against the zipper within you.

Deciding to ignore Jimin’s snarky comment about it being too easy from earlier, you found yourself unbuckling and unlooping his leather belt from his pants so that you could free his cock. You could feel Jimin frowning into your kiss, so you distracted him by sucking his tongue in between his lips as you clenched your fingers around his pants and underwear to push it down past his hard ass cheeks so that you could finally free his monstrous cock. You immediately put your hand on it, wrapping your fingers around it, eager to finally feel the warm heat of his long smooth length. His balls felt huge in your palm as you gently tugged on them causing Jimin to let out a loud moan that had him instantly grabbing your hands and quickly pulling them over your head as he held them tightly in the grip of his left hand. With his dominant hand, he pushed off his pants completely, kicking them off the bed. “Don’t test me Y/N. Or I’ll take my pleasure and not even think about giving you yours.”

You protested loudly at that, causing him to let out a husky laugh, “Okay, okay, vixen, I’ll let you have your pleasure and take it too.”

Still holding your arms above your head, he sank to his knees in between your widespread thighs. His dark brown eyes sought yours as he fought to hold your gaze, staring into your eyes resolutely while he gripped his reddened cock in his hand and maneuvered it to the entrance to your pussy. The head of his cock was glistening with precum as it sought the slit that led to your empty womanhood. After a moment, he succeeded, his thick unyielding cock forcing you to surrender as he easily slipped in between your folds. He started slow, with shallow pumps, testing your limit before he increased the force, jackhammering you with hard, vehement thrusts.

Your lovemaking had been a zealous and passionate affair that had left the two of you breathless in rapture besides each other after the tingling aftershocks of your orgasms had subsided. You played absentminded with the cuff of the left arm of Jimin’s long sleeved shirt as he rested beside you with his other arm thrown over his eyes. Unlike him, you were not exhausted after the sex. If anything, you felt even more energized. Your mind was running a mile a minute as thoughts flitted across your head with incredible swiftness. For one, you kept coming across a number of questions that you wanted to ask Jimin now that you two had irrevocably changed the nature of your relationship. Your eyebrows furrowed as you grew stuck on what Jimin’s middle name was. Your eyes flitted across his form, getting caught on the bit of his forearm that had become exposed after you had been fiddling with his shirt’s cuffs. The pale skin was marred by a dark inky tattoo that you could not fully see since the majority of it was still covered by his sleeve.

Growing curious, with a sinking feeling of premonition that you did not understand fully, you reached once more for his left arm. You paused with your hand wrapped around his wrist before you decided to bite the bullet and shove up the arm of his shirt all the way up to his elbow. The tattoo that was revealed had you gasping in horror and backing away from Jimin in a rush. Jimin’s eyes snapped open at the sound and he stared at you in confusion when he saw you backing up against a wall with your shirt clutched to your chest as you attempted to find the rest of your clothes and wand so that you could get out of there.

“Y/N, what’s wrong?” he asked getting up and trying to approach you. Your eyes inadvertently flickered to his left forearm, where his sleeve was still pushed back, as you moved away even more, your eyes sweeping across the room desperately seeking your wand.

“What are you looking at?” Jimin asked, his gaze following yours until he caught sight of his revealed Dark Mark. “Y/N,” he whispered, pleadingly.

“No!” You shouted, when he once again tried to get closer to you. “Stay away from me, you Death Eater! I can’t believe I trusted you,” you cried hysterically, as you finally found your shorts and quickly stuck your legs through them, slipping them on over you, sans underwear.

“Y/N, I can explain,” Jimin begged, holding up his palms in surrender.

“No, you fucking cannot!” You grated, slipping your hand into your shorts’ pocket, finding your wand in the back right pocket. Before Jimin could blink, you let out a roaring scream, belting out “Stupefy!” to stop and Stun him in his tracks. As Jimin quickly went down with a thud, you could not find it within you to be remorseful.

You hurriedly slipped your T-shirt over your head as you ran down the hallway and down the stairs to jam your feet into your shoes. You opened the front door with a resounding bang and thought that Jimin should have just been thankful that you did not have an evil or vindictive bone in your body. It was a good thing that you were not a pyromaniac like Choi Soobin, because in all honesty you had been two seconds away from setting the entire house on fire with the FiendFyre spell, the Lees had taught, with him still in it.

You ran down the street until you made it back to the alley that Jimin had landed his Firebolt in earlier and quickly uttered the Apparition spell once you were fully enmeshed in the shadows of the buildings making up the alley. This time you would be running away to somewhere that no one could find you, not the Snatchers, nor the Death Eaters, and especially not one Park Jimin, whom you now considered to be dead to you.

…

It took Jimin four hours to wake up from the powerful Stunning spell you had hit him with. He had found himself lying on his back on the hardwood floors of the master bedroom to 0613 Amaranthine Street with a pounding headache and a large bump on the back of his head. Although he was disoriented, the memories from before slowly came back to him and his heart sunk with devastation when he recalled your reaction to the Dark Mark that was marring the length of his left forearm.

He stayed on the floor, with his knees up and tucked under his chin, resentfully suffering through his splitting headache until Chimmy came to him long after night had fallen with a bowl of kimchi fried rice and eggs for dinner. Sullenly, he asked Chimmy to Apparate them back home, not in the mood to fly the massive distance when he still felt so queasy. Once at home, he bitterly walked past the room that housed Nagini behind its door, and rushed towards his own bedroom, in no mood to make conversation. For a second, he was tempted to take his wand to his arm and use it to cut through the mark and destroy it, but something told him that the Dark Mark was more than just a tattoo, that the Dark Lord had somehow bound all his servants to himself, and that his control over them would linger even after the Dark Mark was cleaved. The only thing that brightened Jimin’s mood was the folded letter waiting on the top of his bedsheets. Written in the Headmaster’s spidery script was a missive that told Jimin to bring the giant serpent, that was currently slithering around the Park Mansion, to Spinner’s End tomorrow at noon.

As Jimin got ready for bed later that night, his chest ached with a resigned sense of emptiness. Although he had not exactly come to terms with losing you, he did get the feeling that the end was near. There were no seers or oracles in Jimin’s family; the gift of foresight was not one that was passed down in Jimin’s family, yet he could feel with clarity and conviction that the culmination of the war was coming rapidly. He knew that Kim Namjoon would not be content to remain in hiding for much longer, and that when he was ready (and Jimin sensed that that might be soon if the events that had taken place at the Min Manor were anything to go by), he would come for the Dark— no for Voldemort, and end the wretched limbo that the entire country was stuck in, waiting for the two to finally kill each other.

After breakfast the next day, Jimin found himself Apparating to the address that Yoongi’s mother had written down. As Jimin found himself walking through the riverside town, that was slightly modernized from the time that the city had attempted to gentrify it and then left abandoned, when no one new moved in, and was now broken down and depilated, he found himself wracking his head around the oddities of Apparation. Nagini floated besides him covered by a Disillusionment Charm cutting through the air easily while Jimin had to watch his step on the loosened and upturned pieces of gravel and stone on the cobblestoned street. It had been plaguing his mind all night as he drifted in and out of a fitful sleep, it was strange that wizards could Apparate to locations they had never been in as long as they could imagine the destination with excessively detailed clarity, and Jimin was wondering if the laws of Apparation would still hold true if he attempted to Apparate with a person in mind as his ultimate destination and not a physical location. His musings eventually brought him to the row of houses where the Headmaster lived. The bricks were old and worn down, the iron fences rusty and bent, the board of governors that set the salary for Hogwarts’ instructors were obviously not paying Snape a livable wage.

As Jimin walked up the steps that led him to the front doors of the Headmaster’s home, the disgusting stench from the filthy river went under his nose as a gust of wind carried the smell with it. At his knock, the door opened up a crack, so that Jimin could see a sliver of Professor Snape’s face and soulless black eyes looking back at him. Hidden behind the door, Jimin knew the man was armed with his wand in his hand. With furrowed brows, Snape threw open his front door wide enough so that Jimin and Nagini could pass through.

Expecting this to be a simple drop off, Jimin did not step too deep into the house, lingering at the entry way. As Nagini freely floated through the air in her bulbous entrapment moving deeper into the home, now visible as the professor had removed Jimin’s Disillusionment Charm with a simple sweep of his wand, Snape turned back to Jimin.

“Thank you for the delivery, Park, but your job is now complete,” he murmured. “You should focus on your studies. The NEWTs are coming up. Stop running after the Death Eaters’ coattails, hungry for approval and admiration. Leave the tough jobs for the adults, boy. Enjoy your youth while you can.”

Jimin glared at him, “Focus on my studies? I don’t think good grades will serve us well now Professor, not while the Ministry is under his control. He already had me keeping watch over Yang Hyunsuk. I think my future has already been decided and is far from under my control.”

Snape’s eyes sought Jimin’s, hard inky black ones seeking his warm chocolate brown eyes. Jimin could feel the Headmaster prodding through his mind, invading it. He tried to put up a wall to keep Snape from learning too much, but he was still weak from being Stunned the previous day. Snape’s presence in his mind felt overpowering and unwelcoming but the Headmaster did not linger in it for long, only sharing a thought that could be heard with a booming resonance within the walls of Jimin’s consciousness. You are a fool if you think that the Dark Lord will win, Park. Stop now before you ruin your future irreversibly. He left Jimin’s mind as quickly as he had entered, cutting their shared gaze and walking deeper into his home, following in the path Nagini’s aimless drifting. “Do you wish to stay for lunch?” his voice rang out to Jimin as he walked into another room.

“No thanks, I’m good,” Jimin grunted, still clutching his abused head. Suddenly, why Voldemort had chosen to watch over Snape with Nagini made sense to Jimin. There were larger things that were afoot than Jimin had the privilege of being privy to. It was better, like Snape had said, for him to back off while he still could. He would just ask his parents to plead his case so that he was no longer deeply enmeshed with the goings, comings, and doings of the Death Eaters. “I’ll just be going now,” he called out, exiting the home speedily.

Perhaps he could move to South Korea and find work in the Department of Mysteries in their Ministry of Magic. If he became an Unspeakable, he would never be allowed to leave the country as well and he would be guarded at all times both by the spells that bound Unspeakables from ever revealing confidential information and by the country’s Department of Magical Law Enforcement from ever leaving the country. Although Jimin would never be getting his happy ending with you, he would be damned if he was going to let Voldemort or the Death Eaters rule his life anymore. He would study the Asian magical archives until he found the way to get rid of Voldemort for good, if Namjoon failed to be up to the task.

…

For all its glitz and glamour, America was boring. You came to that realization by your second week in Brownville, Nebraska, a small town that was home to about 500 muggles. Your mother and you had settled in the same large farmhouse that your father had rented out for his new wife and your half-siblings. But even the tension between the two great loves of your father’s life, past and present, did not provide enough diversion from the boring mundaneness that encompassed life at Brownville.

There had been several rules that your parents had both implemented once you had joined them. Amongst them were absolutely no speaking of magic or life in England, no performing of magic, and no use of magical objects. Your pet owl had been moved to live in the barn that took up the back of the property your father had rented, and you were only allowed to visit her with treats in the dark of the night. As it was, you thought your pet was already diverting back to her more undomesticated side as she was preferring the small rodents, she could hunt on the property, to the owl treats you placed out for her.

You were grateful that the adults had given you the large open structure of the attic to be your room, where you would often stay up for most of the day, only coming down for meals, avoiding everyone else in the house. Your half-siblings, who were much younger than you were confused and resentful of the move to Nebraska and blamed you for it although they did not know the details as to why. Your father had never felt the need to tell his Muggle family that once upon a time he had fallen in love with a witch and, with her, had had a daughter who was also a witch. After all, being a Muggle himself, the chances of one of his newer children being able to perform magic were minimal to zero.

As April came to an end and May began, you had resigned yourself to fully living a life as a Muggle and had even considered the benefits of such a lifestyle. For one, the Muggles had increasingly advanced as a society and had come up with inventions that were, in your opinion, just as magical as the things that witches, and wizards could come up with. In fact, you were highly impressed by televisions and telephones. One evening, in between looking through catalogs for different tutoring services you could pay for to acquire a GED, you were trying to set up the black box television set your parents had surprised you with in your attic bedroom. You were struggling with the antenna when you felt a burning sensation the size of a Galleon against your chest. The DA coin you had attached to a chain, to dangle from your neck, was warm to the touch, lightly heating your skin with its summons. Jeon Jungkook, the de facto leader of the group since Kim Namjoon, Jung Hoseok, and Kim Seokjin, the three members of the Golden Trio, had gone on the run, was using it to summon members of Dumbledore’s Army to fight.

Immediately jumping up, you grabbed your wand where it was hidden, tucked inside one of your many pillowcases. Before you could get too excited, you noticed that you were still in your pajamas with a robe hanging off your frame haphazardly and mismatched socks covering your feet. As you hurriedly threw off your clothes to pull a pair of jeans over your legs and a sweater over your pajama shirt, you searched the top of your messy desk to find a scrap of paper you could write on, to let your mother where you had gone. Knowing that there was a chance that your note would fall into the hands of your half-siblings, you were careful to be vague. You wrote quickly with your pen running across the page, blotching the sheet with spots of ink. You wrote: Mother, I had to do it. I had to leave to show the strength and perseverance of Godric’s friends. I’ve gone to meet Hogwarts to do what has to be done. It is my time now to do what you had done 20 years ago. I love you Mother, never forget that.

Blinking back tears, you prepared yourself to Apparate straight into the Hog’s Head pub, as you tried to resign yourself to the idea that there was a chance that you would not be coming out on the other side, alive. But you had lived the entire year as a shade. In all honestly you were a little embarrassed of yourself. Proud, brave Gryffindors did not act like this. It was time for you to stand up for what was right. It was time for you to defend all the Muggleborns and everyone who had been persecuted and treated like vermin as He-Who-Must, no, Voldemort forced his will upon everyone throughout all of Britain.

If you died, you hoped that your mother would be able to sleep at night knowing that she had raised a strong and fearless daughter who defended and protected those who could not fight for themselves. As you hurried through your room, looking for what else you might have needed, your eyes got caught on your Gryffindor House badge tittering on the edge of the nightstand. Grabbing it swiftly, you stabbed it through the fabric of your sweater before raising your wand in front of you and Apparating to Hogsmeade Village.

Once you found yourself in the bar, you were immediately pushed to the side as the large group of people that had congregated tried to squeeze everyone in the small space. As your gaze flickered over the wizards and witches who had all come together to help Namjoon fight Voldemort, you thought you even saw members of the Order of the Phoenix and students who had already graduated in the mix. As you stood there awkwardly and alone, watching Kim Kibum get tackled by Lee Taemin as the two of them started to talk over each other, you thought you heard Kibum yell when Taemin announced that he did not have a wand. Further away, you saw Bang Sihyuk quietly talking with Kang Hyowon and Kwon Dohyeong, who had gone by PDogg and Slow Rabbit on the Goldenwatch broadcasts, about how to get the younger students safely away before the main fighting began. Adora was talking to Shin Donghyuk about how to defend the castle and block off the exits and entrances to the school, waving her wand around to cast a three-dimensional diagram that floated above their heads and changed to depict her plans.

You were so overwhelmed, taking in everything that was happening all around you at once, that you did not notice your best friends Nayeon and Jeongyeon until they both barreled into you, hugging you tightly. The tears threatened to overtake your features once more, but you held it in, knowing that you had to stay strong so that you could fight with a clear head. “I’ve missed you two so much,” you mumbled into their hair.

“We’ve missed you too,” Jeongyeon said, grabbing your hand and squeezing it tightly in hers.

“But it’s okay,” Nayeon declared, “We’re together now. And we’ll fight together too.”

You nodded energetically at that moving towards Mr. Bang who was gesturing you all over to get into orderly groups to go upstairs and exit into the castle, one group at a time. Once you were rushed up the stairs to a room, the likes of which you had never seen before at Hogwarts, since it had been designed by the Room of Requirement, you all were furtively pushed out into the corridors to make your ways down to the Great Hall where everyone was gathering so that Hog’s Head would have enough room for all the wizards and witches that were traveling to Hogwarts to fight.

The Great Hall was looking more haphazard and disorganized than it had looked the night that Azkaban’s prisoner had escaped onto the school’s grounds and the Dementors had been dispatched. All the tables were filled, there were First, Second, and Third Years who had been pulled out of bed in their pajamas sitting only feet away from battle ready, hardened witches and wizards who were all still holding up their wands up in a fighting move. Even the castles ghosts had all congregated at the Hall, looking at Professor Taeyeon who was speaking at the front of the room, on a raised platform where the Professors’ table usually was. Behind her, the other Professors could be seen, Kim Heechul, Eric Nam, Lee Sumni, and Tiffany Young, with the members of the Order standing behind them.

Professor Taeyeon was explaining that the evacuation of the students would be taking place immediately, “If you are of age, you are allowed to stay behind and remain to fight if you desire,” she continued as Nayeon pulled you down to sit next to her at the Gryffindor table.

As you stared at the Deputy Headmistress who was speaking about how the Headmaster had taken a permanent leave of absence, her voice was drowned out by a terrible inhumane voice that rang out through the space, chilling and clear: “I know that you all are preparing to fight. But you must know, your efforts are in vain. It is futile to go against me. You cannot fight me and expect to win. I do not wish to kill you. I respect the institute of Hogwarts greatly, the instructors and what they teach and represent. I do not want to spill any magical blood. I have a great love for our kind.”

Screams had erupted across the Great Hall, as panic-stricken students clung to each other in fear, their fearful gazes darting across the room trying to make sense of where the voice was coming from. Voldemort continued, “Give me Kim Namjoon and no one will get hurt. Give me Kim Namjoon and the school will be left standing and whole. Give me Kim Namjoon and I will reward you for your labor. You have until midnight to give him up, after that I will offer no mercy to a single soul.”

Silence overtook the entire Hall, broken minutes later when Jennie Kim stood up on the Slytherin table and shouted, “He’s right there,” pointing to the entrance to the Great Hall where Namjoon stood next to Yeri. “Get him! Someone quick! Before we all have to die for his actions!”

All at once, there was a rush of sound as people began to push up against the House tables. You stood up with the Gryffindors, reaching for your wand as you all stood to face Jennie face on to defend Namjoon from her. The Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws had stood up with you all, also reaching for their wands, targeting the table that was at the far left of the room who all had students that were stiffly sitting down. You tried to see if Jimin was with his mulish Housemates, but you could not see him anywhere. Now that he had gone back to his natural black hair, it was no longer easy to spot the Head Boy in a crowd.

With an acerbic, tight bite to her words, Professor Taeyeon grated, “Miss Kim cease your foolishness. You will be the first to leave the Hall, if the rest of your House could follow. Ravenclaws, once the Slytherins leave, follow them.”

The tables were slowly vacated, with only the adults who wished to fight remaining behind. To the absolute surprise of no one, the Slytherin table was completely deserted. The Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff tables however had about half of their Seventh Years still staying seated. However, when it came to the Gryffindor table, everyone was reluctant to leave their place, with even the First and Second Years putting on a brave face as they nervously clutched at their almost brand-new wands. Professor Taeyeon had to abandon her post at the platform to come and deal with her house, shouting, “Huening Kai, Kang Taehyun! Get going! You two absolutely cannot stay!” when the two were reluctant to part with the Chasers of the Gryffindor quidditch team: the Choi’s, Soobin, Yeonjun and Beomgyu.

As Professor Taeyeon took care of the Gryffindors who were leaving, arranging evacuation protocols with the Prefects, Mr. Bang took the stage to order you all to take up post all over the castle. You listened to him with your mind drifting wondering about Jimin. Would he be allowed to leave with the students or would Voldemort force him to return to the castle to fight after midnight when the school inevitably did not give up Namjoon.

…

As you were getting ready to fight, Jimin was getting ready too. He had slipped away in all the ruckus, casting a Disillusionment Charm over his form. He had to find the Headmaster. He did not believe what Professor Taeyeon had said. He needed to find the Professor to know if there was a way for him to get rid of his Dark Mark. He had no idea the magnitude of its power but he knew that if he wanted to make a break from the Death Eaters, it would have to be a clean one. He could not risk being in the fray, getting attacked by both the Light side and Voldemort’s followers who would both be seeing him as the enemy.

He stalked through the halls, walking through the halls determinedly, seeking the Headmaster’s studies where he knew that Professor Snape would be, licking his wounds after his brawl against Professor Taeyeon. Soon, he was in front of the gargoyles that would split to reveal the way to the Headmaster’s rooms. But what would the password be? Surely Snape had changed it after Taeyeon had attacked him to keep her from accessing it. Wracking his brain, Jimin’s memories paused on the portraits of Headmasters, past, cheering him on as he struggled to fight against Snapes attacks on his mind, striving to improve his Occlumency. His focus kept lingering on the portrait of the Albus Dumbledore with the sparkly vivid blue backdrop. “Dumbledore!” Jimin shouted, hardly pausing to feel the full extent of his astonishment before rushing up the stairs, into the circular chamber, where Professor Snape was slumped over his chair like a comic book villain, rubbing the pads of his fingers into his temple.

“Professor!” Jimin blurted, “You have to help me. Please. You’re the only one who can.”

Snape’s gaze flickered to Jimin distractedly, his eyes were glazed and unfocused, “I am a little busy Park. You could not have come at a more inopportune time,” he grated, standing up and clutching at his left arm, which must have been burning as hotly as Jimin’s if not more so.

“Is there a way to get rid of the Mark? Please Professor,” Jimin begged.

For a second, there was the cunning clarity, that Jimin knew Snape to have, taking over his person as his beady dark eyes focused on Jimin. “Come here Park and roll your sleeve up.”

Jimin rushed forward, swiftly shoving up the left sleeve of his school robes to expose the Dark Mark that stood out against Jimin’s pale skin with its black ink to Snape. Wrapping his clammy pale hand around Jimin’s wrist, he pulled Jimin’s arm forward, and with a whispered, “Sectumsempra,” cut a controlled gash over Jimin’s arm, going over the path he was tracing with his wand. The pain was blinding. It lacerated through Jimin’s flesh, cutting right to the bone, creating hemorrhages and causing Jimin’s vision to go white at the blood loss. As it cut through the ink of the Dark Mark, however, with the pain Jimin felt a sense of release as though his link to Voldemort was finally being broken. As quickly as he inflicted the curse on Jimin, Snape muttered a songlike chant, incanting the counter-curse. His wand was tracing the same path it had made earlier, only this time it was in reverse. The blood flow seemed to stutter and stop and then Snape was repeating the counter curse a second time and a third to stitch the flesh back up.

A disgusting mottled patch of flesh took up the entire length of Jimin’s arm, it looked like someone had dipped a sword into acid and ran deep horizontal lines through his skin, with the healed lines standing up in ridges against his arm, but the mark was entirely gone. The pain however lingered. If he was to fight in the war after this, he would have to be careful not to reveal that he was already nursing a wound.

“I can give you Dittany to ease the pain, however it is unlikely that the scar will fade. I had to use a dark spell on a mark that was already created by dark magic. We are just lucky it worked,” muttered Snape, getting up to go to the potions cabinet at the opposite side of the room where he kept his stash of powerful and intricate potions.

As Jimin stood still staring at the long white scars that had the heterogenic patterns of chemical burns, waiting for the Dittany to kick in, Snape rushed to the window on the far side of the chamber. Instantly he flung the two panels of glass open and stood at the sill, peering down eight floors to where the green of the Hogwarts’ lawn was still visible in the dark of the night. Without so much as a pause, he instantly stepped off of it, causing Jimin to yelp, thinking that he had just watched his Headmaster plunge to his death after a suicidal jump. Rushing to the window, Jimin could see in the distance a huge bat-like figure flying through the air, rushing towards the darkness that laid beyond the outer perimeter walls of the school grounds.

However, Jimin could not stay here forever. He had to get out to where the fighting was taking place. He had a job as the Head Boy of the Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry to serve them to the best of his abilities. And that meant, that whether the Lees or Voldemort had intended when they had given him the title, that Jimin had the duties of being a good leader for the students, along with protecting the castle and its inhabitants, and doing anything else that was asked of him. As he made his way back into the fray, he saw Death Eaters fighting with students half their ages, some of their hoods and masks having come off in the heat of the moment.

The corridors were filled with a rainbow of brightly colored bolts as each side hurled defensive spells at each other. The Death Eaters fought with no compunction, having the Unforgivable Curses spill from their lips, with each wave of their wand. Jimin went through the crowd, running swiftly, sending targeted Stunning spells through them, aiming at what could have even been his own parents under those disguises. But suddenly, the air exploded with a deafening blast. The corridor cleaved itself, the walls shattered into a million fragmented pieces and the roof began to cave in. Jimin coughed at the sudden explosion of kicked up dust and plaster. He did his best to get out of the rubble, pitching his arm under the shoulder of a struggling student with a cut on his forehead and a tear in his black school robes. The boy’s red tie looped around his neck, tightening like a noose.

Once they had made it to the edge of the corridor that had not been impacted by the explosive spell, he was finally able to look at the person whose life he had saved. Kim Taehyung stared back at Jimin in confusion, wiping the back of his left hand across his mouth to wipe away some of the blood from a cut lip. As his brows furrowed and his mouth opened with the beginnings of a question painting his lips, a terrible scream from a female could be heard as a gigantic spider, the size of a Volkswagen beetle crawling in through the monstrous new hole in the wall that made the outside of the castle visible.

Sprinting away from each other, the two shot spells over their shoulders at the spider. None of the spells seemed to have an effect, as the spider crawled its way in, however when it was struck by both of their spells at the same time, it flipped in its back, struggling to make itself upright again. Jimin dared to look back into the direction of the hole. He yelled, “It brought its family,” as he sprinted away.

Soon, both students, members of the Order, and Death Eaters were all running, all attacking the spiders with jets of red and green lit spells, as they ran to save themselves. As Jimin reached the end of the hall where the staircases were, he took flight, leaping over the railing of the walkway to the moving stairs that were shifting ten feet below it. As his heart jumped to his throat, as he made himself a vulnerable target flying through the air for both Death Eaters and Hogwartians, he wondered if you were here too, or if you were long gone, hidden wherever it had been that you had fled to, making a new life for yourself away from war and political uprisings. He thought maybe it would be safer for him to fight out in the open on the Hogwarts’ grounds where there were not as much landmarks that could be weaponized to explode or collapse, crushing and hurting everyone in its path with its debris.

As Jimin made his way towards the ground level of the castle, running and leaping from staircase to staircase, He crossed paths with several Death Eaters who would give him a nod of acknowledgment before turning their backs and targeting Jimin’s classmates. Was it unchivalrous of Jimin to attack them when they had their backs turned? Perhaps. But Rome was not built in a day and Jimin could not unteach everything he had been taught. After all, he was not a self-righteous Gryffindor, he was a cunning Slytherin who took the chance when he saw it.

Jimin had finally neared the bottom floor, he took the stairs four at a time as he hurried to get out of such a vulnerable position. The staircase that connected all of the stories of the castles were death traps for not only the people using them, but the ones underneath or nearby them. After direct hits from powerful spells, they were liable to collapse into giant pieces of stone and marble that could crush the crowd below it or plunge the ones on it to a painful death. His mind’s musings came true a moment later when someone screeched “Glisseo!” causing the stairs under his feet to flatten to a smooth ramp, making Jimin who had been rushing down the steps to hurtle down it so quickly, unable to control the momentum his body had gained, that shots of red and green light went over his head, narrowly missing his body by a hairsbreadth.

As Jimin lay at the foot of the staircase, resting his weight on his hands as he struggled to get the feeling back in his legs, the shattering sound of glass being blasted erupted to his left. With a quick glance, Jimin was able to see that the Slytherin hourglass that kept track of their house points had exploded with only part of its bottom half remaining. The tennis ball size emeralds were spilled, the gems rolling around haphazardly, causing everyone to trip and slip over them. Jimin could not help but think of the previous June when the previous Headmaster had died, and the Gryffindor hourglass had gotten shattered in the carnage that the invading Death Eaters had left behind. The magic of Hogwarts worked in mysterious ways, often revealing omens that had grim outcasts. Had Headmaster Snape fallen and died?

With his heart pounding so furiously that he could not hear anything but the rush of blood moving behind his ears, Jimin ran towards the front doors of the castle. Everywhere he looked, there was chaos and destruction. There were enormous spiders climbing the walls freely, their pincers snapping erratically as they looked for victims to envenom and eat. The giants that Voldemort had created alliances with had come now, to play. They were attacking the castle with their monstrous clubs, sending the stone bricks that shaped the castle flying.

As soon as Jimin stepped onto the grounds, an unearthly chill entered his body. The air was frozen around him. His heartbeats slowed and quietened until he could no longer hear them, feeling leaden and immobile. Dementors. Those malevolent wraiths glided through the open sky of the castle, their multitude covering the brightness of the full moon that shown over all of the grounds. Already, the dark morose thoughts began to permeate Jimin’s minds. He was never going to be able to gain penance for his sins. He would never be able to make up for what he had done, and for what he had not done as he stood by and let terrible things happen. Headmaster Snape was most likely dead. There was no way that Kim Namjoon could beat Voldemort. It was futile, it was all futile and perhaps Nagini was the key. But as long as she remained in her enchanted protective cage, there would be no saving for the rest of them. They were all damned and doomed to die in this pointless futile fight. Voldemort would soon discover that Jimin had forsook him and would torture him until he could break into Jimin’s mind with ease and destroy everything that Jimin loved or cared about. And what about you, Y/N, Jimin would never be able to ask for your forgiveness or be given the opportunity to make up for his mistakes. His breath came out in smoky white vaporous streams, he tried to raise his right arm to create his Patronus, but it would not move.

He had resigned himself for the Kiss from the Dementor that was closest to him, and seemed to be targeting him specifically, when a massive silver tiger, soared over his head, joined by its mercurial companions, a silver squirrel and hare. The Dementors scattered, backing away from Jimin, but they still caged him in.

“Come on Park!” came the shout of Jung Hoseok from his right. “I know you can do this. You are easily the most brilliant wizard in our Year, excluding Namjoon.”

“Just think of a happy thought,” murmured Jeon Jungkook, coming over to Jimin’s left. “Come on, I know you’re not as bad as everyone paints you out to be. I saw you targeting those Death Eaters back there. You can do it Jimin. We will fight and we will win.”

A happy thought? A memory, uninvited, came rushing forward.

“Are you able to cast a corporeal Patronus?”

“I did. Once,” you answered.

Jimin looked momentarily stunned before he was able to collect himself, “In theory, if you have a memory that is so inexplicably happy and bound to your mind that you would never forget it, you could even scare off an army of Dementors with your Patronus.”

The memory of you had a bitter sting to it. Jimin knew that he would never have his happy ending with you; he was undeserving of it. And yet, it was you and the memory of that one magical day in Paris that had the silver stream of magic shooting out of the end of Jimin’s wand, casting a fully corporeal swan to join the others. As the four Patronuses glided through the air, protecting their owners. The dementors finally dispersed, fracturing away from each other.

Jimin turned back to his classmates, people he had barely spoken to over the past seven years. “Thank you for saving my life,” he muttered gruffly.

“Yeah well,” said Kim Taehyung casting an unimpressed glance at Jimin, “An eye for an eye and all that. But I’m not convinced, Park. So, don’t expect me to save your life again.”

…

The fighting had continued for hours. Voldemort’s voice had come once again, bodiless and macabre, thundering across the space. An unwelcome and unnerving sound that licked the ears of everyone, making them shudder, as it spread the news that he would be giving them an hour to dispose of their dead and to heal their injured before he would be entering the fray and fighting himself, killing everyone in his path until he got Kim Namjoon.

You had been patching up Kim Seokjin’s arm with bandages. There was only so much your healing spell could do and the school Healer, Madame Shin Suran, was being stretched thin, having already enlisted a group of students to help her take care of the wounded. The healing and rejuvenating potions had long run low, even after Professor Heechul had added to the infirmary’s supply. That had been when it had happened.  

The Death Eaters were lining the edge of the Forbidden Forest. Accompanying them at their backs were the Dementors and giants. They walked with Voldemort in the middle, it was the first time that you had ever seen the terrible evil that he was. The sight that met your eyes was far worse than you could have ever dreamt of him to look like. He made a tall figure in his voluminous dark robes that revealed a rail thin figure as he cut through the lawn, sweeping forward. He could have been seven feet tall and was entirely deserving of his boogeyman status with his bone pale skin and demon red eyes, the glint of which you could still make out 20 yards away. As he neared, you were able to see that he was completely hairless, with not a strand on his scalp or even his brows. The hairlessness and slits of his nostrils made him look terribly similar to a frightening serpent.

When Voldemort had crossed to be what he deemed was sufficient amount away, he stepped to the side, revealing the school’s groundskeeper Hagrid to be holding a bundled figure in his arms. Your heart stopped as your eyes cut on the tear tracks that had been left on Hagrid’s cheeks. You had the terrible feeling that it was Namjoon in his arms.

“NO!” bellowed Taeyeon letting out an unearthly cry of anguish, “NAMJOON.”

“Namjoon!” you heard the shouts of Mr. Bang and Mr. Kang, who you knew were like fathers to Namjoon join in. Hoseok was being restrained by Seokjin and Taehyung, yelling desperately for the male he considered to be as good as a blood brother to him. You could even feel tears streaming down your own face. With Namjoon dead, all hope seemed to be lost.

“SILENCE!” bellowed Voldemort. “The Boy Who Lived is finally dead. And at my hands. Hagrid, why don’t you put the boy where he belongs, at my feet.”

Hagrid placed Namjoon’s crumpled form on the ground. He looked so broken and small that bile was rising up in your throat. You had to swallow it down as you bitterly sniffed at the injustice.

“Do you see this?” Voldemort asked, circling Namjoon’s body, prodding it with the toe of his shoe and a maniacal smile painting his face. “Do you finally understand, you deluded fools? He was never anything more than a boy who counted on others to sacrifice themselves for him! But he, himself, never had any skills or strength. No, that is why I was so easily able to kill him with a simple snap of my wand.”

“You’re lying! He beat you!” Seokjin yelled, grabbing his bandaged shoulder with a wince as he talked back to perhaps one of the most vile and deadly wizards in existence. However, Seokjin’s retort was able to do the job. The Silencing Charm Voldemort had casted over the castle’s inhabitants broke and they were able to shout and protest once more.

Voldemort once again hit them with a Silencing Charm, this one more powerful than the last. His voice got even louder, “Kim Namjoon was killed while he tried to escape the grounds like the coward that he is, leaving the rest of you to die for him. He was killed while his self-preserving ass tried to flee for safety…”

Voldemort’s voice trailed off as a figure burst out from the line of Hogwartians, charging towards him. It was poor Jeon Jungkook who had idolized Kim Namjoon and seen him as his best friend. None of the other Gryffindors had thought to restrain him as well. With a laugh and a sweep of his wand, Voldemort easily disarmed Jungkook. “Ah, young Jeon Jungkook. How poorly misguided you are. Why do you defend that dirty Half-Blood whose blood is tinged with the filth that comes from his Mudblood mother? You are a Pureblood yourself, young man. We could do with your kind, Jeon. Brave, spirited purebloods.”

“I would never join the Death Eaters,” Jungkook bit out caustically, “Dumbledore’s Army forever!” His call was meet by shouts from the crowd, including yours, who Voldemort seemed unable to control with his Silencing Charms.

Angered, Voldemort turned to Jungkook, “If that is how you want to play things, young man. We will do it your way.” With a powerful wave of his wand, Voldemort incanted a nonverbal summoning spell. A deformed brown bundle swept through the air, falling onto his outstretched arm. It was the Sorting Hat, “There will be no more Sorting at Hogwarts. You all will be united under one House: the noblest one of them all, the House of my ancestor Salazar Slytherin.”

He then pointed his wand at Jungkook, instantly immobilizing him in a rigid, upright position, “Jungkook here will show you all what happens when you attempt to go against Lord Voldemort.” The hat was shoved onto Jungkook’s head forcibly with another snap of his wand, and then with a third flick, Voldemort had caused the Sorting Hat to burst into flames while still atop Jungkook’s head.

Just then, there was a disruption from the Forbidden Forest when two giants seemed to be attacking each other. All at once, commotion reigned and pandemonium struck. The giants laid into each other, hitting each other with powerful punches and kicks that shook the ground with so much force it felt like unnatural earthquakes were occurring. The castle’s protectors were no longer held by the power of Voldemort’s spells and both sides rushed towards each other. Voldemort had lost his grip on the situation and now everyone was attacking each other.

From the sidelines, Jimin had been watching impartially, but when Voldemort’s focus was no longer on Jungkook, he rushed forward. It felt like he was the only who saw Jungkook break free from the Body-Bind Curse that had been placed on him. The enflamed Sorting Hat fell off his head as he shifted, falling with its pointed tip facing downwards, and Jimin was able to watch as Jungkook thrusted his arm into the hat pulling from within its depths the glinting ruby encrusted handle of the Sword of Gryffindor. Jimin rushed forward towards Jungkook, staring at him with panic-stricken widened eyes. Jeon, look at me dammit, he thought as he ran forward. There was still ten yards between them when Jungkook’s eyes met Jimin’s and Jimin hit him with the powerful burst of his own thoughts, Behind you. The snake. Use the sword.

Jungkook swung the sword around purposefully, he caught sight of the snake that was now slithering around freely since Voldemort had thought that Namjoon was dead. With a single powerful stroke, Jungkook brought the sword down, beheading Nagini with one fell swoop. Voldemort let out a shrill unhuman cry at his pet’s death. Charging forward towards Jungkook and Jimin purposefully.

All at once, the two of them were fighting the evilest and most powerful wizard that was alive, struggling to hold their own even in a two on one match. When a killing spell narrowly missed Jungkook, singeing the top of his already static and burnt hair from earlier, a voice bellowed behind them.

“Stop, Voldemort!” shouted Namjoon, who apparently was not dead after all. Jimin did not take the opportunity to check where the voice had come from since Voldemort had not ebbed his assault on the two boys. “It’s me that you want so why don’t you come and finish the job!”

…

At the end of the duel between Kim Namjoon and Lord Voldemort, only one of them remained standing. Fortunately for everyone, that had been Kim Namjoon. As the people of Hogwarts dealt with the aftermath of the battle, rushing to put the remaining Death Eaters who had been alive into custody, Bang Sihuyk had been temporarily instated as the Minister of Magic; apparently Minister Yang had fallen during the battle which Jimin could not feel himself feeling at all torn about.

Jimin’s parents had been amongst the ones who were being rounded up. They had attempted to implicate him along with themselves when Jimin had scoffed and said, “Me, a Death Eater? Hardly, Mother. Why on earth would I have dueled against Voldemort himself then?”

His mother had been shocked into silence while his father had sputtered at his disrespectful tone and how Jimin had had the audacity to call Voldemort by his name. But now, Jimin was wondering throughout the castle looking for someone. He needed to see you, to make sure that you were alright. His new friend Jungkook had assured him that you had returned to Hogwarts to participate in the battle. And according to Jungkook and his friends, the last they had seen of you you had been alive. However, they had all seen you before the second bout of fighting had started. However, Jimin had made his way through all of the fallen bodies, from both sides, that were laid out on the courtyard, both as a type of penance and to make sure that you were not among them. Jimin would remember the faces of all of the dead for the rest of his life, taking care to never be prejudiced or intolerant ever again.

He was finally making his way into the Great Hall, where the separation of the Houses no longer persisted, and everyone was sitting at whatever space was available next to their family members, strangers, or even other magical creatures who did not have a drop of wizarding blood. It was a strange but welcome sight of equality and tolerance. After his rounds about the tables had taken him past Yoongi and his parents who were sitting in a corner all to their own feeling awkward and distant, he finally found you. You were sitting in between two girls and talking to them animatedly.

Clearing his throat nervously, Jimin asked, “Y/N can I talk to you?”

You turned around, your eyebrows almost disappearing into your hairline at your surprise. After debating about it, for what seemed to Jimin had been long interminable moments, you nodded and stood up. The stroll the two of you were on led you eventually to through the castle out towards the Quidditch pitch.

Jimin finally spoke up after the lengthy silent walk. He stopped in his tracks and turned to you, “Y/N, if I could. I would redo everything, from our first meeting. I’m so truly sorry for everything I put you through this entire year. I hope you can feel the depths of my sincerity.”

You stared at him wordlessly. After a moment you parted your lips and said, “I wouldn’t.”

Jimin stared at you in shock.

“Jimin I wouldn’t change a single thing about our history, as painful as some of those moments have been. The moments we shared cannot be undone, the things we said cannot be unsaid. But I understand what you are hinting at. You want us to have a fresh start,” you carefully gauged Jimin’s reaction to your words.

He had been initially panicked when you had started to talk. But now, he bit his lip before saying softly, “Yes please, let us start anew once more, Y/N.”

With a soft smile gracing your lips, you reached out your hand towards him, “Hi, I’m Y/N.”

Jimin met you halfway, his arm stretching forward, and his fingers wrapping your hand in his grip. “Hello, Y/N,” he murmured, “I’m Jimin. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

This work is licensed under the Creative Commons Attribution - Non Commercial - No Derivatives 4.0 International License

©OPALJM 2020 ©FITAELITY 2018-2020

#btsghostie #btswritingcafe #bangtanarmynet #btsprotectnet #maknaesmutsociety #ksmutclub #bangtanhq #kwritersworldnet #jimin harry potter au #slytherin jimin #park jimin scenario #park jimin smut #park jimin angst #park jimin fanfic #jimin smut #jimin enemies to lovers #bts enemies to lovers #jimin smut imagine #jimin angst imagine #bts harry potter #bts hogwarts au #kpop harry potter au #death eater jimin #gryffindor reader #blood runs pure #my works #written by fi #bts collaboration

[lyallblacklupin]

Deaf and Blind

The First Wizarding War is saturating the air with doubts and terror, making it difficult to love or trust just like it has become difficult to breathe. Love and Trust; are they the same things? Because Sirius doesn’t trust Remus, neither does Remus trust Sirius anymore. Both live under the same roof yet their secrets are keeping them miles apart, until one day Remus leaves, but Sirius chooses to believe that he will come back, so he waits in agony. Do they still love each other?

Chapter 1

Call him a Black or egocentric; they are the same thing. You’d imagine that after everything that has happened exactly the way Sirius yelled at Remus’ face, he’d be living in utter contentment.

“I just can’t stand you anymore!” Remus jerks up from his chair to flee the kitchen, aiming his way to grab his coat.

“You think I can!?” Sirius retorts back, louder than Remus, “You are a liar! Selfish git who would do anything to hide his pathetic secret! Because you prioritize yourself over us! I would die than let anything happen to you all! Do you think I’m full of myself? Why don’t you take a moment and analyze what you are becoming! What the war is doing to you! You are a coward, Lupin! I don’t want to be with a coward like you!”

Despite the invisible daggers thrashing onto his chest, Remus is still walking to the door in frantic, trying to gain composure over his trembling limbs.

“You go! Walk away! Like a coward you are. But I tell you this,” Sirius follows him to his pace in the corridor. It is quite a long corridor they have. He grabs Remus by his forearm which yanks him away. Those amber eyes glistening, wearing agony caused by the words of his best friend, his lover, his everything, “I’m not going to care! Just like you don’t! You never did, when you disappear for weeks and tell me nothing where you went. You’d just sit in your cloud of melancholy as if the world is harsh to you only. Can’t you see? You are ruining other people’s peace, breaking their hearts, causing them pain by your mere existence!”

Sirius knows he is out of the line but his body feels liberated as if his chest is opening, becoming weightless. The blood that has been racing in him has adept his body, consolidated in every corner of his body. This felt different, and not in an agonizing way. He is staring hard at Remus’ face, and he emphatically ignores to read him.

Nevertheless, he is taken aback by a major change in Remus’ expressions. He looks tired. He is not frowning. He is looking behind Sirius, lost somewhere. And suddenly, Sirius is out of words. He thought he has won, but when Remus slowly advances, speechless since forever, and walks past Sirius, to the bedroom, it doesn’t feel like winning at all. Sirius does not utter a word—more like he cannot utter a word.

Remus sighs, and retrieves a duffel bag from their wardrobe. Sirius’ blood runs cold because he sees him extracting a glop of his clothes and socks and stuffing it in the bag. He also goes into the bathroom to fetch his toothbrush and potions. Sirius stands there still like a sculpture, remorse gushing in him already. Remus has no anger lingering on his eyebrows, no anxiousness in his movements, and no semblance of mercy on his face, just despondency.

The sound of zipping the bag, throwing the keys in the bowl, and a gentle click of the door closing, and Remus has left. Little does Sirius knows, this is the start of his breaking point because his lungs constrict, his throat has tears, and the opening that has been made in his chest is widening. He doesn’t want to believe that Remus has left with his possessions, so he keeps up with his sanity by pretending that his Remus is just out for a walk, and then he would return when he is done being angry. He wants to believe that Remus will come back, and they will kiss and make up. But he doesn’t come back.

One week. He is not back. Sirius drinks and fights the death eaters.

Two weeks. He doesn’t come back still. Sirius drinks and owls Dumbledore that he is sick to go on a mission.

Three weeks. He doesn’t come back at all. Sirius lets himself live in agony and ceases his floo network to stop James from barging in.

A month. Sirius is asked to be the secret-keeper.

“He must be in Wales at his parents’ house.” Says Lily Evans, stroking Harry’s newly grown hair. Sirius is finally at the Potters, and it feels bittersweet to be here. The Potters are going into hiding. He is losing everyone, one by one. It is worse than losing himself.

“His parents are dead.” He says sharply, arching his eyebrows to sound as acrimonious as he can be, “And why are you telling me this?”

Lily studies him with hard eyes and shrugs in exasperation. He knows that everyone is tired of him. James doesn’t laugh. Nobody does, except Lily which doesn’t fit well because she should be allowed to stay miserable or, mourn the prophesied death of Harry Potter in exchange for the life of the darkest and the most powerful wizard of all time, Lord Voldemort.

Sirius sees James who is stirring the batter of coffee, while his eyes are focused on nothingness. He bit his cheek to suppress the pain in his chest. He walks up to James who takes notice and smiles barely. Sirius returns his smile gently and stands close to him. He doesn’t want to admit but they are all about gentle brotherly touches, and soft smiles, unlike before when they used to be loud cackles, stupid jokes, and fierce hugs. A lot has changed.

“You okay?” James asks as he pours milk in four cups.

“No, you?” Sirius says nonchalantly which earns him a smile from James.

“I have to be.”

“But you are not fine?” Sirius makes it sound like a confirmation than an actual inquiry. James finally looks at him with resigned facial expressions, and then returns to his stirring, “Care to tell me why you have four cups instead of three? Isn’t it too early for Harry to start consuming caffeine?”

“Ah, I asked Wormtail to come.” James murmurs dejectedly, glancing at the wall clock, “I guess he won’t come…”

“Speaking of Wormtail…I have something in mind, and I’d like to talk to you both about it…” Sirius has James’ full attention now as he escorts him to their living room where Lily has Harry asleep in her arms. She frowns on the tensed aura that Sirius knew he was radiating. James sits with him, both of his hands clasped together as he focuses on his breathing.

“I think I am an obvious choice…” Sirius begins.

“What do you mean?” Lily whispers.

“I mean I shouldn’t be the secret-keeper.” As he senses the perplexity overshadowing their faces, he continues, “Don’t get me wrong, I’d do anything for you three. If you don’t agree with me then we will go exactly by your plan.” After what feels like a decade, he sees reassurance in James’ eyes. “I think it would be very obvious to have me as the secret-keeper. Everyone knows I’m Harry’s godfather, and if there’s anyone Voldemort would be after, is me. So…I think we should make Wormtail as the secret-keeper.”

Sirius who has been looking down, wishing for a positive response with bated breath, looks up to find Lily Evans with the ugliest frown and tears in her giant emerald eyes. James reaches out her hands, and she quickly intertwines with his. He takes his spectacles off, rubs his blood-flecked eyes. It breaks Sirius’ heart to see them like this. Suffocated with death, surrounded with fear, clouded with ambiguity.

“Whatever you say…We trust you…” James says as if he is ready for any outcome, either if it saves him or swallows him. Sirius never thought he would see James Potter retired from the dedication that resided in the depths of his heart. He remains on the armchair which used to be reserved for Remus to read storybooks to Harry who would not have a clue what dear Moony was explaining, yet would admire how musical he sounded.

They all allow the silence to sink in, still with the atmosphere of uncommunicativeness, before Sirius gets up and kneels before the two of them, grasping each hand in both of his. James smiles weakly at him. He suddenly says something Sirius would never have anticipated because it turns his world upside down. He does everything in his power to compose his internal mourning, to keep himself from screaming.

“Talk to Moony…”

He nods, plants a kiss on Harry’s forehead, cups Lily’s tear-stained cheek for a few seconds, and hugs James, before apparating back to his flat.

When he feels the ground touch his feet, he is greeted by a figure standing with their back facing Sirius, a scarred hand clutching a goblet quarter-filled with fire whiskey. Despite the thunderous hammering in his chest, Sirius walks into the living room.

Chapter 2 is coming soon!

#wolfstar #wolfstar supremacy #wolfstar fanfiction #remus x sirius #sirius black #sirius x remus #fiction #harry potter #hp marauders #post hogwarts #james potter #lily evans #james x lily #moony x padfoot #moony wormtail padfoot and prongs

[siswritesyanderes]

Could please write some headcanons about platonic yandere Harry for his twin brother? Sorry if I'm bothering you....

(You’re never bothering me by sending asks/requests! I’m sorry this ended up shorter than I meant for it to be; I had all my ideas fairly ironed out, but I kept getting daunted by my own plan for how long I wanted to make it, so over and over again I just stopped working on it, and then I thought, How about post what you have and then continue it if someone asks you to? So that’s what I’m doing.)

...

They looked nearly identical. It was just that Liam’s scar was across his ear instead of on his forehead, and he didn’t have the defiant edge that made Harry’s eyes and jaw look harder. Liam genuinely wanted the Dursley’s to think that he was good, and it broke Harry’s heart, because he knew that it would never happen.

It sharpened him all the more, to see his brother legitimately trying to earn their approval and only getting hurt for his troubles.

Liam hadn’t gained the same quick reflexes that Harry had; with minimal clues, Harry knew when Dudley would suddenly come barreling down the hallway, and he knew how to jump aside. Liam was too unobservant, and too clumsy; Dudley would shove him into the wall if Harry didn’t pull him out of the way in time, and still he would say, “Good morning, Dudley,” or “That looks fun, Dudley.”

Harry knew, somehow, that it was his own fault when Liam, one day, appeared to suddenly and only for a moment become impossibly dense, causing Dudley to topple to the floor when he tried to shove him, but it was still Liam who had been punished for it when Dudley went and burst into tears.

And then there was the hair. Aunt Petunia had been willing to chop off all of Harry’s hair on account of it being “unruly” (leaving only the fringe, to cover his scar; that style had looked so stupid that it had magically grown back overnight, but that was another story); she couldn’t do the same with Liam, because his scar was so inconveniently placed that his hair had to stay long in order to cover it. This led to several agonizing mornings of Aunt Petunia combing at Liam’s hair so hard that he cried, and yet he was still the one who apologized to her, for having such hair to begin with.

And once again, Liam was the one who got punished when Aunt Petunia’s comb suddenly seemed impossible to grab ahold of, and again Harry knew somehow that he was really the one to blame.

All of these incidents, too many to count and more than they even remembered, solidified Harry’s conviction that his brother needed his protection.

So on the day when the two of them suddenly got letters after having never received mail of their own once in their lives, Harry hid them in his trousers until nightfall, then pulled them out in the cupboard they shared. It was nearly impossible to read in such dim light, but through their combined efforts, they discovered that the pair of letters were in fact very similar in content. They told of a school. A school of magic.

And Harry saw it for the escape it was.

The next day, he pulled out a phone book and searched for the name Minerva McGonagall, as it had been signed on the bottom of both letters, but he couldn’t find any such person.

(Disheartening. A bit of doubt curled inside him, that maybe Hogwarts had been someone’s idea of a joke. But he would rescue his brother from this house; it was decided now, whether Hogwarts was real or not.)

The day after, he absconded from the Dursleys’ house with Liam (never releasing his brother’s hand, as they traversed the city; people were dangerous, and Liam was naive; he was only safe with Harry) and searched for the place called “The Leaky Cauldron”.

This, they did find. It was an odd, cozy-looking place, and it exploded inexplicably into excited chatter and jubilant shouts when people noticed Harry and Liam there.

“You can’t be the Potter boys,” one man gasped, in an awed tone as if he couldn’t believe his eyes.

Harry tightened his grip on his brother, who looked overwhelmed by all the attention, and scowled to communicate to the gathering crowd that he could be dangerous even if he was only ten. “Why can’t we?” he asked flippantly. “And why do you know us?”

It was then and there that the boys were informed of their legendary past: of Lord Voldemort and how they had thwarted him and how the world of witches and wizards viewed them as heroes.

This time, when Harry inquired as to where he might find a Minerva McGonagall, he was successful. The pair of them turned up at the deputy headmistress’s home and, when she welcomed them in with a furrowed brow and a tray of biscuits, he laid bare the details of the Dursleys’ cruelty and neglect. He could handle their treatment for himself, but Liam needed to be kept out of their reach.

And he was.

Pale-faced and horrified, McGonagall exchanged a surprisingly swift series of owls (They sent letters using owls, of all things.) with Headmaster Dumbledore that ended with the twins recounting the details of their mistreatment once more, this time to Ministry officials (the Ministry of Magic, an idea which dazzled Liam) and then being placed under the temporary guardianship of McGonagall, until someone could get in contact with the Dursleys. (Apparently, there was something about a protective spell tied to Aunt Petunia’s blood, and Dumbledore was convinced it could be salvaged without allowing the family to continue abusing the boys; Harry doubted it.)

That night, he and Liam were offered separate guest bedrooms in McGonagall’s home, but Harry refused to sleep apart, even if Liam was intrigued by the idea of having his own bed, in a room all to himself. Liam was too trusting, too vulnerable.

One day, Harry would make sure he had a bed to himself. When it was safe. For now, though, they had to stay together.

Liam kept trying to run off, though!

When McGonagall took them to get their school supplies, Liam kept wandering when Harry’s attention was elsewhere. He never went far; always just one aisle away, or staring through the window one shop over while Harry was looking at the broom shop. It wasn’t much, but it was enough for something bad to happen, and Harry could only pay attention to so many things, in this bustling place. He couldn’t very well make Liam keep holding his hand if his brother was determined to squirm and stray. All he could do was implore him to keep still.

Overhearing Harry’s protestations, McGonagall interjected, “Pardon me, Mr. Potter, but I think you’ll find that the pair of you are safer, here, than you may think.”

“Why? Because you’re here?” Harry asked, not bothering to hide his skepticism. McGonagall had helped them so far, but he wouldn’t stake their wellbeing on her.

“There is that,” McGonagall allowed primly. “But I wouldn’t understate the fact that the two of you draw far too much attention for anyone to feasibly harm you, at least without being noticed.”

This was a welcome introduction to something Harry had failed to consider; in the Muggle world, they were invisible, but here, yes, there had to be some safety in being so seen.

But there was danger in it, too. All of this attention, it was asking for trouble. That was for him to manage; the safety and the danger of fame.

#yandere harry potter #twin brother

[hello-everyfandom]

“Stay next to me then, so I can protect you.”

Warnings: Mentions of violence, war

Pairing: George Weasley x Reader

Words: 2.9k

Summary: Small snippets of your pregnancy with George Weasley

Part One: “I never said I was good at picking names, for all I care we could call them Bob.”

It was easy to fall in love with George Weasley. You had fallen in love with him as quickly as it was to pluck a flower from a meadow or quicker than a simple blink of the eye. You two were quite happy together, there was no doubt in your mind that George was your fellow, the man you wanted to spend the rest of eternity with.

A pop sounded rather loud and your head felt dizzy as you stabilized yourself after apparating out of the wedding. George placed a hand on your lower back and looked at you grimly, hearing the Death Eaters continue to rampage the wedding. The rest of the Weasley’s, besides a certain Ron, began popping in as well. 

George, rubbing soothing circles on your back, leaned and whispered, “Don’t worry, Love. ‘verything will be alright.” You looked back and nodded silently, clutching his arm.

“What will we do?”

“I expect they will come in and-” before Mr. Weasley could respond, multiple Death Eaters stormed the Burrow, pointing wands and yelling orders. Guests who remained and the Weasley’s were questioned rigorously. You had watched nervously, hands intertwined, until a Death Eater who you couldn’t place a name to, pulled you and George into the interrogation room. 

“What is your name?” He asked your boyfriend who answered confidently.

“George Weasley.”

“Blood status?”

“Pureblood.” George squeezed your hand without breaking eye contact with the man who looked at you with extreme loathing.

“Where is Harry Potter?”

“I don’t know.” George lied.

“Don’t lie. Tell us the whereabouts of Harry Potter, and perhaps we will leave your family unharmed.” 

“He said he didn’t know.” You hissed harshly, glaring at him.

He turned, “Name?”

“Y/N Y/L/N.”

“Blood status?”

“Half-blood.”

“Proof of magical blood?”

“My father was a wizard.”

“Was?”

“He’s dead. He died a few years ago.”

The Death Eater seemed to grin wickedly, “As I hear, you have no true proof of wizarding lineage. And no lasting connecting,” he licked his teeth, “to any magical being. Who did you steal your magic from?” his voice lowered in disgust, he nearly spat. 

“This is preposterous! She didn’t steal anyone’s magic, she was raised as a wizard!” George yelled, the veins of his neck popping out. His face began to turn red as his hand moved to his back pocket where his wand was.

“If there is factual evidence that can be proven, I will have to take her to the ministry to be fully detained.”

“Like hell, you will,”

“George,” you whispered, attempting to calm your boyfriend. “My father raised me alone, as a wizard. He worked in the ministry, you may look him up and I’m sure you will see my birth records.”

“Artifice and forgery are easy to construct, assuming that your birthright and blood status is correct, you still do not have any lasting relationships in the wizarding world. I’ll ask one more time, who did you steal your magic from.”

“I did not steal anything, I was born with it.” your voice slightly wavering.

“Then, I’m afraid,” his smile grew sickening and wider, “That we will have to interrogate you further at the ministry.” His hand reached and snatched your arm, beginning to bruise it with his fingers. George jumped up,

“She’s my fiancee!”

The Death Eater twisted to face him, “Lies!”

“No lies.” George looked at you pleadingly, “We just got engaged tonight, at the wedding. We’re to be married in months.”

The Death Eater sneered at you and dropped your arm, “And you would want to marry this filth?”

George gathered you in his arms, and snarled back, “It’s a wizarding connection, is it not?” and pulled you out of the interrogation room.

“George, they’ll wring you for that,” you whispered, eyeing the surrounding Death Eaters.

“They won’t if it’s true.”

“But, it’s not true. Darling, please, I’m afraid for you.”

“It may as well be,” George gathered your hands and kissed the knuckled, “We love each other, don’t we?”

“I love you with all my heart,”

“Then, why don’t we get married? Why aren’t we married right now?”

“Because...” you tried to think of a good excuse, but nothing came to mind. It was true. You loved George and he loved you and with the war thundering upon your heads.

“Exactly, so marry me, please,” George whispered again.

“Yes, of course, I’ll marry you, George.”

--

The day you told George you were pregnant you were terrified. Perhaps terrified is not the right word, but the only thing you could think of was the fear running through your veins. It wasn’t as if George’s excitement for a child had been a secret, you learned at the wedding he was quite ecstatic to begin a life with you. However, the fear came from the war. You feared for your unborn child being born into a world of prejudice, violence, and anger. But, as you sat down with George in your small shared apartment, you couldn’t shake the nerves that seemed to plague your mind.

“What is it, Y/N? You’re worrying me.” George asked.

“I need to tell you something,”

“Go on, then, love. I’ve never seen you so serious.” George chuckled humorlessly.

“I went to St. Mungos today.”

“What?” George jumped, holding your hands and scanning you for wounds or injuries, “Why? What happened? I knew I shouldn’t have gone into work today I-”

“George, please, calm down.”

“What’s happened? Has someone come into the apartment?”

“George-”

“Were you hurt? How did you get to St. Mungos? Did you-”

“George,” you cupped his face lovingly, “I’m pregnant.”

Silence. George’s mouth fell as his eyes widened.

“Please say something, Georgie. Now you’re scaring me,” you laughed, rubbing his cheeks with the pads of your thumbs.

“You’re pregnant?”

“Yes, Georgie.”

“As in, baby? In you? From sex?”

“That’s generally how they are made, darling.” you laughed. George’s face broke into a smile, his freckles seemed to glow as he jumped up from his seat and pulled you to your feet. 

“You’re pregnant!” He beamed, spinning you around. The nerves you had previously felt before had dissipated as George peppered your face with kisses. 

“We’re pregnant, George, we’re having a baby.” you felt tears well in your eyes as George pressed a long, loving kiss on your lips. 

“I am,” George laughed, “I am overwhelmed.”

“You’re overwhelmed? I have a baby growing in me!”

George spun you around once more, “You have a baby growing in you!” He turned and yelled into the apartment, “Fred! Fred get in here, you silly oaf! Get in here!”

You heard a loud thud as footsteps ran towards you. Fred, with shampoo in his hair and a towel wrapped around his waist, held his wand up in case of danger. You immediately shut your eyes,

“Fred, dear god, you could’ve put some clothes on!”

“I was in the bloody shower, what in merlin’s pants is going on? I’ve nearly cracked ‘m head open!”

“Fred, for god’s sake, shut the hell up!”

Fred looked around the small apartment living room frantically before looking at George. His eyes lowered to his twin’s hands on your stomach and his wide smile. He looked back and forth from George’s hands to your stomach before slowly looking up with a grin placed on his face.

“George, you did not.” He said.

“George, I did,” George replied, smiling widely.

“George,” Fred warned, “is she-is she pregnant?”

“She so is,” you answered.

“Oh my god! You’re! She’s. And You! Oh, I-”

“Fred,” you put your hands our warily, watching Fred begin to sway. Fred’s eyes rolled as his arms flapped and he fainted.

When Fred’s eyelids began to flutter, he managed to regain focus from the ground staring up at his brother and his wife’s worried faces. His hands flew to his chest and then down to his towel which he was glad was still there.

“Alright, I agree, we probably should’ve waited,” George turned to you,

“I’m surprised he didn’t just die on sight, ‘ve only just found out today.”

“Mate?” George pulled his twin’s shoulders so he was sitting up, “you doing alright? You had quite a fall.”

“You fainted, remember? Your towel fell off, but I-uh- closed my eyes.”

Fred looked back and forth before jumping up and slamming George in a death grip hug.

“More than alright! Bloody hell, we’re having a baby!” 

“Yeah, we are!” George hugged him back, 

“Ye-wait, we?” you asked.

“Yes, we! Get ‘ver here, Y/N! You little oven heater for our bun!” Fred reached his arms out, you laughed and backed away.

“How about, I’ll give you a hug when you’re all settled and dressed,”

Fred pointed, “She’s a smart one, she is?”

“The smartest.” George could feel the happiness swell in his chest, the pride he felt for his family, and the love he exuded for you.

By the time you were perfectly plump and showing, George seemed to fret over you even more. From making cups of tea to helping you get up, you never seemed to lift a finger. However, the smothering seemed to drive you slightly insane as all you wanted to do was lay on the couch and read a novel without George constantly on your shoulder.

“Love, I’m alright, you’re acting as if I am on bed rest.”

“Bed rest!” he exclaimed, “That’s a brilliant idea, come on then, go on to bed,”

You groaned, “George, that was a joke! Please, I’m perfectly content where I am. Now hurry on to work before Fred becomes cross with you.” you leaned and kissed him on the cheek before handing him his briefcase and nudging him out the door.

“Send me an owl if, bloody hell woman, stop trying to shut the door and- ouch! Y/N!” he yelled after you accidentally nicked his foot under the door.

“Love you, too darling! Have a good day at work!” you said before closing the door. 

For a while, the silence was quite nice until the silence became longer. You glanced at the clock worriedly at the kitchen table as late afternoon turned to evening. Fred and George were usually home by now, and of course, they could be restocking, but it was unlike George to be so late especially now when his wife was pregnant. You stirred your tea before sipping it lightly, not really paying attention to the flavors and more of your nerves. Your hand on your plump belly as you caressed it softly. 

“Daddy will be home soon, yeah?” you whispered.

As evening turned into night, you debated on sending him an owl message or even floo-ing down to Diagon Alley. Just as your hands reached for the parchment, the door burst open. Fred and George barged in with wands in hand, waving quickly to summon clothing and suitcases. 

“George!” you screamed as you ran towards him, “What’s happened? What’s going on?”

“We need to leave,” George said seriously, “Y/N, love, grab your wand and the things you need.”

“But-”

“Now!” George’s voice raised. You were not frightened by his yelling but rather the grim expression on his face. You hurried and gathered your wand and slipped on some shoes. Fred quickly packed any photographs and business papers for the shop as George moved clothing into suitcases. Your hands, quick and nimble, helped George’s shaky ones. You zipped the suitcase and snapped it shut before standing, a hand on your stomach.

“What’s happening, George?”

“The burrows been attacked, we need to go. Bill and Fleur are expecting us.” George looked around for Fred before his eyes softened at your worried face. George’s hands grabbed the back of your neck as he placed a soft kiss on your forehead. “Need to get you and the little one out of here. Fred?”

“Right here.” Fred popped next to George, suitcase in hand. “Alright, Y/N?”

“As alright as I can be.” 

You looked back at the seemingly empty apartment and grabbed hold on George’s hand as the twins whisked you away.

--

With the due date just weeks away, you struggled to do daily tasks. Frustration was key on your face as you listened to the Order of the Pheonix explain the battle strategies. Much to George’s despise, the baby would be due a month before the battle meaning, if you were completely healed and ready, could fight alongside the Order of the Pheonix.

“Y/N, stop it.”

“George, if you are going to fight, I am too,” you argued. It was exhausting arguing with George, even when you were younger. He seems to only hear out one ear and out the... well. 

“You’d have just given birth!”

“It would be a month after and-”

“This is not up for discussion, Y/N. I can’t lose you.” George sat on your shared bed, putting his head in his hands, “I can’t lose you.”

You sat next to him, wrapping your small arms around his broad shoulders, “You would never lose me. But, I have to do what is right, and if you are going to fight then I will too.”

“Then I won’t fight.”

“Of course you will, Georgie.” 

“No! We can stay here and we can stay with the baby-”

You shushed him softly and kissed his shoulders. “You know this is what’s right.”

His shoulders shook with a small cry, “Stay next to me then, so I can protect you.” George faced you, wrapping his arms around your pregnant figure, 

“I’ll never leave your side,” you leaned and kissed your husband.

As Fleur braided your soft hair and hummed a french tune, you leaned on her deep in thought. The smell of the salty sea and the sand made you think even harder.

“Fleur?” you asked,

“Yes?” she answered back. You turned from your position to face her beautiful face.

“I need to ask you something,”

“Vhat iz it, Y/N?”

“If...” you inhaled a shaky breath. “If anything happens to George or me during the battle...”

“Plez do not zalk like that, you and George will be fine.” Fleur pleaded, grabbing hold of your hand.

“I’m not oblivious to the war, I understand that there will be... casualties.” you swallowed, “but George and I plan to be there for the battle and...”

“You and Georgie will be okay.”

“Please, Fleur?” she stayed silent, tears in her blue eyes, “If George and I die, please, I. I don’t want my baby to...” you chocked up.

“Iz okay, Y/N. I understand.” She rubbed your arms comfortingly. “Bill and I will do anything for ze baby.” 

“Thank you.” your voice cracked as Fleur leaned and placed her forehead against yours. “Thank you.”

--

“Molly?” you called from the small sitting room.

“Yes, dearie?” she approached, wiping her hands on a towel.

“May I ask you a question?”

“Of course,” Molly sat on the edge of the couch where you laid. Your hands laid on your stomach, now huge and ready to burst. Molly reached and brushed the hair off your forehead and gave you a motherly smile, “How is my grand-child doing?”

“Other than a little finicky and particularly opposed to any sweets or anything I feed them, I think are doing quite well.”

“The little one’s picky, isn’t she? Wait until she meets her Grandmother, she’ll be stuffed with to the brim.”

 You laughed, “How are you so sure she’s a she?”

“Oh well, call it a mother’s intuition,” Molly waved her hand.

“I, well. My question was... well. You had seven children,”

“I knew this question was coming,” Molly placed her hand on your stomach and another on your arm, “It’s not as bad as you think.”

“Are you sure? I feel as though I’m ready to pop,”

“Truly, Dear, I will be there, George will as well.”

“I’m scared, I think, thas all,” you mumbled, looking at your pregnant belly.

“I understand, when I was pregnant with Charlie, I practically broke Arthur’s hand!”

“You should’ve seen her pregnant with Ginny,” George’s voice chimed in. You turned to see your smiling husband approach and kiss the top of your head. “Nearly tore our heads off,”

“Oh,” Molly blushed and smacked her son’s arm, “If only my sons weren’t acting like fools, then perhaps I would’ve been more lenient.” 

“We still haven’t decided on a name,” George said, “This one,” he pointed at you, “Likes the name Posy.”

“Posy is a wonderful name,” you defended, 

“I still think Herbert is a nice name,”

“I’m not doing this again, Georgie, we’re not naming our child Herbert!”

“Why not!” George argued. Molly watched in amusement as the two of you bickered, “We could call him Herb for short.”

“What if it’s a girl?”

“Herba.”

You groaned making George laugh. It was only until you groaned louder when he stopped. You gasped sharply and sat up, “Oh my-”

“The baby’s coming!” Molly yelled excitedly, helping you off up the couch. “Come on then George, don’t just stand around! Help your wife into the bedroom!”

George froze, his face blank. It appeared that fire lit in his face as he quickly grabbed ahold of your arms, steadying you as you breathed rapidly. “Don’t freak out,” 

“I’m not freaking out!”

“I’m not talking about you! I’m talking about me!”

“If I make it out alive after this, George, I’m going to punch you.”

George let out a loud laugh before helping you into the bedroom, “You sound like Mum.”

#george weasley #george weasley imagines #george weasley imagine #harry potter imagines #harry potter #harry potter imagine #george weasley oneshot #fred weasley imagines

[senadimell]

If you've got time to share, I'd love to hear more about your thoughts around Snape and Lupin.

@deathdaydungeon, here you are!

After a conversation with @frederick-the-great, I’ve been thinking about Lupin, Snape, and what they say about morality in HP. I’m not talking about the troublesome white hats, black hats morality, but am instead looking at from this angle: Lupin is nice and well-liked, but often lacks a backbone, whereas Snape is mean and disliked, but incredibly brave. Which is more important? I find Harry’s last sacrifice to be a useful point by which we measure their impact.

Lupin and Snape useful to compare on several important fronts.

As foils for each others’ teaching methods

The way they deal with social disadvantage

Their connections to Harry’s father and how they pass on James’ legacy

1) They both teach at Hogwarts, and are foils for each other in many ways. Snape is mean and takes away points. He’s seen as selfish. His classes are hard and unpleasant for Harry. He’s mean to Neville, and rather than encouraging him, mocks him and belittles him, which just adds to the overall disaster of Neville’s poor self-esteem mixing badly with potions class.

However, even Umbridge admits that Snape’s teaching methods work, and she’s working for Fudge who doesn’t like Death Eaters and has been defied by Snape in GoF, so we know he’s effective for a lot of people, if not Neville.

Yet, for all that, Snape saves Harry’s life multiple times. On top of that, Snape wants to keep the fact that he saved Harry’s life a secret.

“Very well. Very Well. But never--Never tell, Dumbledore! This must be between us! Swear it, I cannot bear...especially Potter’s son...I want your word!

My word, Severus, that I will never reveal the best of you? Dumbledore sighed, looking down into Snape’s ferocious, anguished face. “If you insist...”

DH 679, The Prince’s Tale

Conversely, Lupin is nice and rewards points. He’s seen as generous. His classes are fun and interesting for Harry. He’s kind to Neville, and expresses confidence in him that leads him to succeed and do well. That confidence is a huge part of Neville’s character development. I doubt he’d grow into the resistance leader in DH if not for the many times teachers expressed confidence in him, like Dumbledore in PS, Lupin in PoA, Fake!Moody in GoF, and Harry in OotP. Harry certainly approves of his methods:

“You’re the best Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher we’ve ever had!” said Harry. “Don’t go!”

PoA 424, Owl Post Again

However, it’s worth noticing that Hermione does worse on his exam than we ever see. She fails the Boggart test, and she and Harry were the only two people not permitted to experience the Boggart in class. Lupin’s teaching methods aren’t foolproof. Despite that, he’s overall seen as a nice guy and good teacher.

Yet Lupin endangers Harry’s life. The secrets he keeps are dangerous: his secret to keep is that he’s a werewolf and  actively endangered three students lives with his negligence, as well as the fact that he hid a secret about a believed and convicted mass murderer to save face with Dumbledore.

“That was still really dangerous! Running around in the dark with a werewolf! What if you’d given the others the slip, and bitten somebody?”

“A thought that still haunts me,” Lupin said heavily. “And there were near misses, many of them. We laughed about them afterwards. We were young, thoughtless--carried away with out own cleverness.

“I sometimes felt guilty about betraying Dumbledore’s trust, of course....he had admitted me to Hogwarts when no other headmasters would have done so, and he had no idea I was breaking the rules he had set down for my own and others’ safety. He never knew I had led three fellow students into becoming Animagi illegally. But I always managed to forget my guilty feelings every time we sat down to plan our next month’s adventure. And I haven’t changed...

Lupin’s face had hardened, and there was self-disgust in his voice. “All this year I have been battling with myself, wondering whether I should tell Dumbledore that Sirius was an Animagus. But I didn’t do it. Why? Because I was too cowardly. It would have meant admitting that I’d betrayed his tryst while I was at school, admitting that I’d led others along with me...and Dumbledore’s trust has meant everything to me. He let me into Hogwarts as a boy, and he gave me a job when I have been shunned all my adult life, unable to find paid work because of what I am. And so I convinced myself that Sirius was getting into the school using Dark Arts he learned from Voldemort, that being an Animagus had nothing to do with it...so in a way, Snape’s been right about me all along.”

PoA 355, Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot, and Prongs

Plan is emphasized because those trips that ended in “near misses” weren’t some impulsive romp. They were planned and coordinated in advance.

“I just saw Hagrid,” said Harry. “And he said you’d resigned. It’s not true, is it?”

“I’m afraid it is, said Lupin. He stared opening his desk drawers and taking out the contents.

“Why?” said Harry. The Ministry of Magic don’t think you were helping Sirius, do they?”

Lupin crossed to the door and closed it behind Harry.

“No. Professor Dumbledore managed to convince Fudge that I was trying to save your lives.” He sighed. “That was the final straw for Severus. I think* the loss of the Order of Merlin hit him hard. So he--er--accidentally let slip that I am a werewolf this morning at breakfast.”

“You’re not leaving because of that!” said Harry.

Lupin smiled wryly.

“This time tomorrow, the owls will start arriving from parents ....They will not want a werewolf teaching their children, Harry. And after last night, I see their point. I could have bitten any of you...That must never happen again.

“You’re the best Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher we’ve ever had!” said Harry. “Don’t go!”

PoA 424, Owl Post Again

What strikes me about this conversation is how Lupin shifts the blame around. This doesn’t start with an admission of guilt. He’s not leaving because the parents are right. He’s not leaving because he’s seen how dangerous he can be, or because he owns up to making an incredibly dangerous decision. He’s leaving because Snape forced his hand. If Snape didn’t do that, he would do the same thing he’s always been doing: sweeping his misdoing under the rug and promising himself privately that he’s going to change, but never doing it.

It’s always someone else’s fault for Lupin. That’s a neat tie in to the next point of comparison:

2. Lupin and Snape both experience marginalization in wizarding society, but in very different ways. Lupin faces socio-legal** marginalization and Snape faces socio-economic marginalization.

Lupin’s a werewolf. We see how prejudice affects his life, from his inability to find a job and his worn out clothes to his people-pleasing nature. He’s always acting nice and harmless. He does nothing to play into the condemning stereotypes he’s faced since childhood. Despite that, he still can’t find a job. Nobody will hire him, and people are scared to interact with him. From the way he talks about werewolves, it’s implied that this prejudice is held blindly across Wizarding society. Both Ron and Hermione are horrified to learn Lupin’s a werewolf. *** Later on, he’s legally limited in the kinds of jobs he holds and the kind of magic he’s allowed to perform. Lupin has no control over his transformations, and did not choose his condition.

Lupin’s not really wrong when pities himself. The odds really are stacked against him when he’s treated as if he’s a wolf 24/7, not just a few predictable times a month. His prospects are honestly awful.

The problem is, his condition is dangerous. Thus, the issue of victim blaming is particularly thorny for Lupin. He can’t just accept that he’s a monster for something he has no say over, and yet he can’t escape the fact that sometimes he is monstrous for reasons out of his control. He feels guilty for the people he could have hurt, but also seems to resent that people blame him for something that’s not his fault. The problem is that he carries that lack of accountability into spheres where he should be accountable, like not taking his medication and endangering children because of it.

Snape’s story is very different. He is poor in both the wizard and muggle worlds, and half-blooded, and was sorted into Slytherin as a child. He doesn’t have one condition against him, but checks boxes that make it hard for any one side to accept him. He’s too impure and poor to survive on his own for the Slytherin, but is a Slytherin with Death Eater friends and housemates interested in dark magic, which means he’s never going to fit in with the Order of the Phoenix crowd, especially when some of its members torment him at school. ****4

 This essay makes a convincing point that the wizarding world is not a meritocracy, and that people like Snape need powerful patronage to advance if they don’t have the money to support themselves.

I don’t consider the sorting a proper choice. I know Harry does, but I’m of the opinion that at age 11, very few people have been taught how to analyze different perspectives and make an informed decision. Most 11-year-olds are trained to obey their parents and accept their family’s ideology. Harry’s choice rests on very little evidence--most of what he knows is what Hagrid told him, and that he doesn’t want to be sorted into Voldemort’s house along with Draco Malfoy, someone who reminds him of Dudley. I don’t think Snape was very informed either (I’d love to know why), because he doesn’t realize why it Lily wouldn’t be sorted into Slytherin.

“You’d better be in Slytherin,” said Snape, encouraged that she had brightened a little. DH 671, The Prince’s Tale

Either the pureblood rhetoric just wasn’t strong in those days, or his mother didn’t tell him about that.

...“Where are you heading, if you’ve got the choice?”

James lifted an invisible sword.

“’Gryffindor, where dwell the brave at heart!’ Like my dad.”

Snape made a small, disparaging noise. James turned on him.

“Got a problem with that?”

“No,” said Snape, though his slight sneer said otherwise. “If you’d rather be brawny than brainy--”

DH 671-2, The Prince’s Tale

It seems that most people just follow familial preferences. As to why Snape wants to be in Ravenclaw over Slytherin, my preferred interpretation is that he had a family legacy, knew that Slytherin rewarded the ambitious and clever, and that Slughorn, the head of Slytherin house, had a knack for making the kind of connections that a poor, clever boy would need to succeed.

Nevertheless, once Snape was in Slytherin, the odds were stacked against him. The house in that era was full of people who would later be Death Eaters. “Dark Magic” wasn’t frowned upon among his housemates, and siding with Voldemort wasn’t yet widely acknowledged as a transgression by wider society.

“No, no, but believe me, [Sirius’ parents] thought Voldemort had the right idea, they were all for the purification of the wizarding race, getting rid of Muggle-borns and having pure-bloods in charge. They weren’t alone either, there were quite a few people, before Voldemort showed his true colors, who thought he had the right idea about things.…” OotP 112

Additionally, people like Bellatrix were in the years above him, and given how Fred and George acted with younger students, I think it’s highly likely younger students had to find a place in the hierarchy or be the target of ‘pranks.’ He was a halfblood, after all, and dirt poor.

Snape knew these people. He ate with them, slept with them, and went to class with them. It is so much easier to understand and befriend someone you spend time with. I’d say that most people who subscribe to problematic ideologies aren’t just awful to be around all the time, or else these movements wouldn’t gain any traction. They’re likely funny and nice to be around if you’re not on their bad side.

In addition to strong peer pressure to befriend the people who would be death eaters, he was also bullied four to one. His bullies received protection from the headmaster when he was nearly killed or permanently maimed. They were popular and well liked.

The best analogy I’ve heard to describe Snape's Hogwarts situation is that he’s a kid in a rough neighborhood who joins the local gang. It provides protection and the hope of social mobility, and from his perspective, the other gang fights just as dirty (his treatment by the marauders). He doesn’t stop to think that the system is flawed, or that the gang’s very existence indicates the failure of authority and threatens its members. He just sees himself as a kid with nothing who needs help with protection and advancement. We know that Voldemort hasn’t shown his true colors, and it’s possible he showed different faces to different people.

‘Now, yer mum an’ dad were as good a witch an’ wizard as I ever knew. Head Boy an’ Girl at Hogwarts in their day! Suppose the myst’ry is why You-Know-Who never tried to get ’em on his side before ... probably knew they were too close ter Dumbledore ter want anythin’ ter do with the Dark Side.

‘Maybe he thought he could persuade ’em ... maybe he just wanted ’em outta the way. All anyone knows is, he turned up in the village where you was all living, on Hallowe’en ten years ago. You was just a year old. He came ter yer house an’ – an’ –’ (“The Keeper of the Keys”)

Dumbledore’s cited as the reason they turned him down, not their blood status. I think there’s evidence that the wholesale anti-muggleborn campaign wasn’t a huge part of the first wizarding war, and wasn’t implemented until the second, even if there was anti-muggle propaganda. (Muggle=/=muggleborn). It’s implied that Tobias is abusive and that Snape hates him for what he did to him and his mother; it’s implied that faced class prejudice by the muggles around him as well:

“I know who you are. You’re that Snape boy! They live down Spinner’s End by the river,” she told Lily, and it was evident from her tone that she considered the address  a poor recommendation.

DH 665, The Prince’s Tale

When you read stories about people who are able to escape cycles of gang violence and poverty, there’s almost always someone who lifts them out. There’s someone who pushes them, or extends a hand, or believes in them. There are community outreach programs, or churches, or an English teacher that pushed them to do better and try out for a scholarship. That person is usually someone who knows what it’s like and knows how hard it is to get out.

Snape doesn’t seem to get that support anywhere. Slughorn doesn’t seem to notice him, for whatever reason. Lily doesn’t approve of his friends, but also doesn’t understand at all what the pull is--that it’s hard to swim against the current of what everyone else is saying, despite the fact that she feels the same pressure to end her friendship with Snape.

“… thought we were supposed to be friends?” Snape was saying. “Best friends?” “We are, Sev, but I don’t like some of the people you’re hanging round with! I’m sorry, but I detest Every and Mulciber! Mulciber! What do you see in him, Sev, he’s creepy! D’you know what he tried to do to Marry Macdonald the other day?”

DH 673, The Prince’s Tale

In the very same conversation, the fact that Snape is not allowed to share what happened to him with Lupin and the werewolf incident means that Lily will never be able to understand what Snape is facing: That the leader of the good guys makes excuses for and protects people who recklessly endanger the lives of others.

“And you’re being really ungrateful. I heard what happened the other night. You went sneaking down that tunnel by the Whomping Wollow, and James Potter saved you from whatever’s down there--”

Snape’s whole face contorted and he spluttered, “Saved? Saved? You think he was playing the hero? He was saving his neck and his friends’ too!...”

DH 674, The Prince’s Tale

Later in the year after SWM, she tells Snape this:

“None of my friends can understand why I even talk to you.”

DH 675 The Prince’s Tale

She expects him to reject all of his classmates and stand against the tide, despite the fact that she knows how hard it is to do that and can’t comprehend why he sticks with his classmates. She expects him to be grateful to James Potter as if what he did was altruistic, because the Headmaster swore Snape to secrecy and he keeps his promises, despite the fact that someone else was spreading the story. (The fact that she says she heard it instead of talking about it like its common knowledge implies that she heard it from a friend, so our friends the Marauders likely weren’t keeping their lips zipped even if Snape was.)

I don’t say this to shift the blame away from Snape to Lily in regards to Snape joining the Death Eaters. I just want to point out that Lily wasn't someone who could help him break the cycle. He didn’t squander some chance she offered him. She just wasn’t enough to break him out--not empathetic, motivated, or well-informed enough. (I think the fact that they were peers plays a big role in that).

Ultimately, Snape did choose to join the Death Eaters. He did yield to peer pressure. He did obey his assignment and report the prophecy to Voldemort. He spent his youth yielding, following the path in front of him, and choosing what was probably the easier choice: stick with your group, find powerful friends, do what they want, and don’t ask too many questions about their methods. That’s what makes his decision to betray Voldemort so powerful to me.

Here’s part of the passage when Snape betrays Voldemort:

...The adult Snape was panting, turning on the spot, his wand gripped tightly in his hand, waiting for something or for someone...His fear infected Harry too, even though he knew that he could not be harmed, and he looked over his shoulder wondering what it was that Snape was waiting for--

Then a sliding, jagged jet of white light flew through the air. Harry thought of lightning, but Snape had dropped to his knees and his wand had flown out of his hand.

“Don’t kill me!”

DH 676, The Prince’s Tale

He was terrified. He knew he was caught between the world’s two most powerful wizards, but it was worth it if he could save his childhood friend.

Then when Lily dies:

“Her son lives. He has her eyes, precisely her eyes. You remember the share and color of Lily Evans’s eyes, I am sure?”

“DON’T!” bellowed Snape. “Gone...dead...”

“Is this remorse, Severus?”

“I wish..I wish I were dead....”

“And what use would that be to anyone?” said Dumbledore coldly.

DH 678, The Prince’s Tale

Whatever motivation Snape had before is gone. A person’s life who is not his own is worth more than his own, and he’s drowning in guilt. From now on, Snape works to be useful in saving Harry’s life, and later many lives, at risk of death. His choices are a black mark on his record, likely making it difficult for him to get a job when he’s been tried as a Death Eater, and all of his wizarding connections are Death Eaters or their associates. He has no money or influence. Dumbledore hires him.

So Lupin has a single ailment and faces constant social and legal discrimination. He constantly tries to undermine people’s expectations about werewolves by being mild, but unfortunately is too afraid of rejection and its consequences to stand up against bad behavior or take full responsibility for his failings. He has friends who support him, but do it by engaging in risky behavior. He does not stop them. Perhaps he fears exposure and expulsion. Perhaps he just likes belonging for once. Either way, he does not come clean until forced to.

Snape is different; instead of facing outright rejection, he’s from a poor background and grows up surrounded by peers who join something somewhere between a gang and a cult while being bullied by people groomed by a rival organization. The headmaster of his school supports the rival organization and swears him to secrecy about an incident when they endangered his life, sending the message that his life is worthless. That same group continues to publicly bully him. He continues down this path until he realizes that it endangers something he cares about, and makes a decision that puts him at risk of being killed by the two most powerful wizards alive. He changes course.

Snape seems to view his problems as challenges facing him, whereas Lupin sees his problems as part of who he is, and not something he can change. Lupin seems to accept what happens to him in a fatalist kind of way. He sees what happens as inevitable and somewhat out of his control, whereas Snape never seems to blame his circumstances for him becoming a death eater, even though they clearly limited his options. I think that attitude matters. However, because Lupin’s facing a fictional magical malady, it’s difficult to fully blame him for that attitude.

Both Lupin and Snape have to react to powerful societal pressure that makes it difficult for them to succeed. Comparing them is apples and oranges at best, because their circumstances were so different. I don’t think you can judge either’s morality based on group identity, though.

3. Finally, they both act as a window on James: who he was, and what he means to Harry, who never knew him. That means in some way, they help pass on his parental legacy to orphaned Harry.

Hogwarts is Harry’s home, which means that the teachers are more than just teachers, but play a symbolic parental role in his life.

Hogwarts was the first and best home he had known. He and Voldemort and Snape, the abandoned boys, had all found home here.

DH 697, The Forest Again

You can’t understand Harry without realizing what he lacks: a loving home and living parents. He’s always looking into the past to find his parents, and is saddled with a legacy he struggles to understand--why did he live, who were his parents, and what does he need to do now?

Lupin and Snape also share a connection with Harry that goes beyond a normal teacher-student relationship, unlike McGonagall or Flitwick. Snape and Lupin are more personally connected to Harry than the other professors because they know Harry’s parents and went to school with them. I will mostly focus on James from here on out since we know so little about Lily personally and Harry mostly tries to emulate or avoid his father’s behavior and legacy.

They’re also the last people who knew James to survive, and they die almost at the same time. They’re the only teachers apart from Dumbledore who give Harry private lessons. More importantly, these lessons are all tied thematically to Harry’s past. Harry’s experience with dementors and the patronus charm are his first re-encounter with his parents and his past.

Terrible though it was to hear his parents’ last moments replayed inside his head, these are the only times Harry had heard their voices since he was a very small child. But he’d never be able to produce a proper patronus if he half wanted to hear his parents again.

PoA 243, The Patronus

In the end of PoA, Harry sees himself and mistakenly thinks it’s his father.

“Come on!” he muttered, staring about. “Where are you? Dad, come on--”

But no one came. Harry raised his head to look atet he circle of dementors across the lake. One of them was lowering its hood. It was time for the rescuer to appear--but no one was coming to help this time--

And then it hit him--he understood. He hadn’t seen his father--he had seen himself--

Harry flung himself out from behind the bush and pulled out his want.

“EXPECTO PATRONUM!” he yelled.

PoA 411, Hermione’s Secret

So the patronus itself is linked up with Harry’s past, and his coming-of-age. He doesn’t rely on others to save him, but must do it himself. (Though Harry’s never really trusted the adults to save him.)  It’s interesting to note that Harry actually learns the Patronus charm under Lupin’s tutelage.

On the other hand, Snape introduces Harry to the unpleasant side of his father’s legacy. Through Snape, we see that James wasn’t just a little cocky, but a bully.

“Apologize to Evans!” James roared at Snape, his wand pointed threateningly at him. “I don't want you to make him apologize,” Lily shouted, rounding on James. “You're as bad as he is.” “What?” yelped James. “I'd NEVER call you a--you-know-what!” “Messing up your hair because you think it looks cool to look like you've just got off your broomstick, showing off with that stupid Snitch, walking down corridors and hexing anyone who annoys you just because you can--I'm surprised your broomstick can get off the ground with that fat head on it. You make me SICK.” She turned on her heel and hurried away.

....

He had no desire at all to return to Gryffindor Tower so early, nor to tell Ron and Hermione what he had just seen. What was making Harry feel so horrified and unhappy was not being shouted at or having jars thrown at him; it was that he knew how it felt to be humiliated in the middle of a circle of onlookers, knew exactly how Snape had felt as his father had taunted him, and that judging from what he had just seen, his father had been every bit as arrogant as Snape had always told him. OotP, Snape’s Worst Memory, emphasis added

It’s interesting note that Harry fails to learn Occlumency from Snape. (In fact, we never see Harry use magical skills he learned from Snape apart from Expelliarmus, which is...important). At the same time, he gains an important perspective.

You can’t have James without this part of him. However kind James was to Lupin, however brave James was when he saved his wife, he was neither kind nor brave when he bullied Snape. It’s uncomfortable and awkward, but it’s important.

When he had finished, neither Sirius nor Lupin spoke for a moment. Then Lupin said quietly, “I wouldn’t like you to judge your father on what you saw there, Harry. He was only fifteen —”

“I’m fifteen!” said Harry heatedly.

OotP

Harry rejects the idea that actively bullying someone is just folly of youth. He knows what it’s like to be disenfranchised. Regardless of what Snape and James’ relationship was, he didn’t deserve that kind of humiliation. And Lupin watched, and defends him. Harry has to grapple with that.

Ultimately, Snape and Lupin do more than just connect him to his past. They also teach him his two signature spells, Expelliarmus and Expecto Patronum. One saves his soul, and one saves his life and frees the wizarding world from Voldemort because of Voldemort’s fractured soul.

Snape and Lupin as moral counterpoints

How do we evaluate this:

“I’d never have believed this,” Harry said. “The man who taught me to fight dementors--a coward.”*****5

DH 213, The Bribe

and this?

“Albus Severus, you were named for two headmasters of Hogwarts. One of them was a Slytherin and he was probably the bravest man I ever knew.

DH 758, Seventeen years later

Ultimately, I don’t think it’s really that useful to pit two people with different backgrounds against each other. At the same time, they represent two different halves of a question: when it comes down to it, should we try to be kind or brave? I don’t think you have to pick one, but when pursuing the two, there are bound to be moments of conflict.

I always come back to the lyrics to Last Midnight from Sondheim’s Into the Woods.******6

You're so nice You're not good You're not bad You're just nice I'm not good I'm not nice I'm just right I'm the witch You're the world

Snape doesn’t care about being nice. I think this is where most non-Snape fans start pulling out the pitchforks and torches. Snape isn’t nice, and he’s not nice to kids. He’s not nurturing.*******7 He’s abrasive, allergic to coddling, and petty when he can get away with it. In fact, most of the people he’s ‘nice’ to are significantly more powerful than him, or someone he needs to be on good terms with.

Lupin is nice. He’s mild. He’s often kind. However, he often picks being liked over standing up for something.

What does that result in? He doesn’t stand up for Snape. The bullying continues and keeps Snape firmly on his path. He wins the respect of the Gryffindors with the Snape Boggart incident but loses whatever credibility he had to tell Snape to ‘put their past behind him.’

On the other hand, Neville’s bravery in DH was nurtured by Lupin’s confidence. Neville kept hope alive and led a rebellion. Lupin is one of the few adults that Harry fully respects and trusts up until the Grimmauld place confrontation. (He likes Hagrid and Molly, but doesn’t necessarily trust them to make decisions in their best interest, while he usually respects Lupin’s judgement). Harry loves him, and it’s because he loved him and watched him die that he needs to act and fight back against Voldemort.

Ultimately, Harry’s relationship with James and the adults who pass on his legacy is one of the most important symbolic relationships in the book. The thematic resolution of the series is Harry’s act of sacrificial love.

He did not know what to feel, except shock at the way Snape had been killed, and the reason for which it had been done....

...He could not bear to look at any of the other bodies, to see who else had died for him. He could not bear to join the Weasleys, could not look into their eyes, when if he had given himself up in the first place, Fred might never had died...

He turned away and ran up the marble staircase. Lupin, Tongs...He yearned not to feel....He wished he could rip out his heart, his innards, everything that was screaming inside of him.

To escape into someone else’s head would be a blessed relief....Nothing that even Snape had left him could be worse than his own thoughts.

DH 660-662, The Prince’s Tale

He rushes to the headmaster’s office to escape into Snape's memories. His memories convince Harry that sacrificing himself is the expedient thing to do, and he heads to the Forbidden Forest. To enable is last sacrifice, he uses the Resurrection stone to witness his parents and his father’s friends. Their combined testimony is enough to ameliorate his personal fears about following through with this final act.

Lupin and Snape leave entirely different legacies behind. Lupin encourages and inspires. As an authority figure, he gives people like Neville space to grow and his compassion towards Harry gives him the strength to face his demons. Harry’s decision in DH to die must have something to do with the kindness he was shown, and the sacrifices people who loved him made for him, of which Lupin is a part. Despite what he saw in Princes’ Tale, Snape wasn’t one of the people who’d make an appearance with the Resurrection stone.

Yet Snape sacrificed his life for Harry and the wizarding world, entities that Snape didn’t seem to like and that certainly weren’t kind to him. His form of bravery is about endurance, tenacity, and willingness to do what is right even when you hate your allies and no one else is going to credit you for what you do. And that’s very Harry. Even if he hates Draco, he’s not about to let him die if he can help it. Harry has much more in common with Snape than Lupin, I think.

Since this is about souls, let’s return to the Patronus charm. Snape’s not the kind of person who typically inspires that kind of emotion required to cast a Patronus in others, at least from what we see in Harry’s perspective. Yet because he has experienced that love, he can cast it and shows Harry what needs to be done. Snape enables Harry to dive under the ice. Lupin’s the kind of person who can inspire a patronus, but isn’t the one to make the sacrifice play until after Harry confronts him about his duty to his family. Ultimately, though, they both sacrifice themselves in the Battle of Hogwarts.

* Ever since I realized how blatantly tangential Order of Merlin must be to Snape’s character motivation, that line has frustrated me to no end. There’s no way frothing-at-the-mouth PoA Snape just really coveted that Order of Merlin. He’s often petty, yeah, but if Lupin believes it’s just about that and has nothing to do with Snape’s real conviction about how dangerous Lupin’s actions were, he’s deluding himself. I hate that he passes it on to his students.

**Yes, I am making up words today. Lupin’s faces prejudice and discrimination on a social level enforced by increasingly powerful discriminatory laws.

*** It’s worth noting that if we take every book as equally valid canon, then there’s either widespread ignorance towards lycanthropy, as Lockhart convinces everyone he was able to “cure” the Wagga-Wagga werewolf, and as teenage Horcrux!Riddle said Hagrid raised werewolf cubs under his bed, or else lycanthropy is actually a wide range of conditions under a wolfy umbrella ranging from treatable to incurable. Lupin is our primary source for lycanthropy: he’s the one who tells us about Greyback, for example. If we hold the first two books as equally valid, then perhaps we only know about Lupin’s particular type of condition. That’s the Watsonian analysis, anyways.

****4 These footnotes are getting ridiculous. Basically, there’s no consensus on what Dark Magic is, and on what basis it’s Evil. This essay goes into things that are labelled as curses. I’m inclined to believe that the vast majority of Dark Magic is just Magic We Don’t Like for Reasons.

The definition of what is and isn't considered Dark Magic is never explained: often it just seems to mean "a curse I don't approve of".  Even "curse" has never been satisfactorily defined, but we can certainly say that not all curses are regarded as evil, since some appear to be on the Hogwarts curriculum, and are certainly performed without censure.

*****5 While I paired the quotes at the top of this section together for dramatic effect, it’d be a shame not to look at the context of the Lupin fight.

“I thought you’d say [that your mission was top secret],” said Lupin, looking disappointed. But I might still be of some use to you. You know what I am and what I can do. I could come with you to provide protection. There would be no need to tell me exactly what you were up to. Harry hesitated. It was a very tempting offer.

Hermione then asks about Tonks.

“I’m pretty sure my father would have wanted to know why you aren’t sticking with your own kid, actually”... ...“I’d never have believed this,” Harry said. “The man who taught me to fight dementors--a coward.”

...“Parents shouldn’t leave their kids unless--unless they’ve got to.”

...“I know I shouldn’t have called him a coward.”“No, you shouldn’t,” said Ron at once. “But he’s acting like one. “ “All the same...” said Hermione.

“I know,” said Harry. “But if it makes him go back to Tonks, it’ll be worth it, won’t it?”

He could not keep the plea out of his voice. Hermione looked sympathetic, Ron uncertain. Harry looked down at his feet, thinking of his father. Would James have backed Harry in what he had said to Lupin, or would he have bene angry at how his son had treated his old friend?

DH 213, The Bribe

Harry feels personally betrayed that someone who has a family and child would abandon them. Here he is unyielding and accusing to someone he cares about in the hopes that they re-evaluate what matters. It’s a rather Snape-like tactic, actually. Or else a Dumbledore one.

I love the dialogue in this scene, but have some major issues with how Harry’s internalization drops out the window for shock value. JKR does the same thing when has Harry pull the Veritaserum trick in HBP. I don’t like it.

******6 The witch and Snape aren’t perfect analogues, since she’s decidedly more amoral in my opinion, but they’re both contractually-motivated characters whose humanity is shown by their (platonic/familial) love for a more “innocent” character and the guilt at the innocent character’s sacrificial death. Guilt doesn’t lead the witch to do anything productive, and for Snape it does, which is where they diverge on the character path.

*******7 Draco may be an exception to this. However, watching Snape struggle to build rapport with Draco in HBP leads me to think that while Snape’s been on Draco’s side, he’s still not “nurturing,” or in other words, good at cultivating trust and encouraging the strong and wholesome parts of someone’s personality to grow.  

#hp meta #snape #pro snape #severus snape #remus lupin #i haven't figured out how to make this appear above the cut...

[yamithediaperdork]

Draco’s New Daddy (Harry Potter)

From one of the great pure blood families and with a brilliant future ahead of him, Draco Malfoy these days was living a very much different life then he had even planned on. unable to land a job at the ministry of magic due to well, everything his family had done under he who should not be named, Draco found himself working odd jobs until the day he'd happened to run into a old classmate from Hogwarts: Miles Bletchley. Miles was apparently doing well from the fine clothes he was wearing compared to the blue jeans and formally white t-shirt but now mostly gray that Draco was wearing. He'd invited Draco out to lunch, and after assuring him he'd cover the bill, they had gone off and talked for hours.

As it turned out Miles was a gent of sorts for special young men who had certain..looks..and got them one night 'jobs' so to speak that payed well and of course took a modest percentage of the money as he wasn't doing this for fun. Draco knew how to read between the lines and blushed at the offer that was being made. "Listen Draco, with your looks, your frame and honestly..well..how some people feel about your family, I can promise you a lot of money for 1 to 2 works work at a time. And lots of clients." Miles said, chugging a butter beer. Draco was drinking something a little stronger and his bale cheeks were flushed, though from the offer or the wine it was hard to say. They had a private booth and Miles had cast a spell to give them further privacy, though he'd stressed what he was doing wasn't strictly illegal, it was gray area and best not to draw attention to it either way. "let's not beat around the bush Miles, you want me to be a prostitute." Draco said. "In a way yes, though in others no. I promise you'll never have to have sex with anyone who hires you unless you want to." Miles said. "..So loads of cash, and not getting my ass plowed..what's the catch?" Draco asked, raising a eyebrow and having more then a few doubts. "the catch is that each of my boys plays out one role for the lonely wizards of the world. One boy plays the part of a human dog,anther a sissy girlfriend, anther a maid and so on and so on. Any sex is to be agreed upon by both parties and I have my own branch of well..enforcers shall we say..who deal with clients who break that agreement." Miles said. "Bloody hell.." Draco said, shaking his head. "And what role would you have ME play then?" he was pulling his glass to his lips and started to take a sip when Miles told him. "A nappy boy." Draco spit out his drink and looked at his old school friend in disbelief.

And yet he'd ended up taking the job. Miles was true to his word that Draco never once found himself sucking dick or taking it up the ass, though he'd been forced to smog with more then a few men. And it was mostly men who hired him. people who loved seeing the pure blood in massive cloth nappies and a baby bonnet sitting on the floor and shaking a rattle. the fact that even after a year of doing this job he could still blush so bad while doing it only endeared him to his daddies and mommies. And Miles had been telling the truth at JUST how many clients he had. If Draco had so wanted he could of worked every days of the week for a month and still of had at least 2 clients a day. The only horrible part of the job (well aside from the general shame) was having to make BM's in his nappies. Oh how people loved to bounce him in a smelly nappy on their laps with a fat dummy in his mouth and chuckle as the tears rolled down his cheeks. Still it wouldn't be too much longer Draco figured before he could retire. he wasn't blowing though his money this time like he had before and was careful to save even coin he could, only treating himself to luxury items once a month. (In fact, he was so good with his money Miles had Draco speak with other of the working boys about how to better manage their finances!) He'd been relaxing in his modest flat and reading the paper when a Owl had arrived from Miles, telling him of a urgent client who was willing to pay triple the normal fee for a session with the nappy lad tonight, despite Draco having made it clear he was taking a few days off to treat a embarrassing little problem. His diaper rash. Miles note made it clear that it was up to Draco, but he strongly urged him to accept. apparently this client had used other boys and wanted to try something new and some vague threats had been made about dropping the service altogether. "Shit. Guess it's time for me to be the company man." Draco muttered and sent a message off saying he'd take the job, and asked for the location of tonight's 'daddy' Apparently Miles had figured Draco would do that because just as he sent his owl off, anther one appeared with the info he asked for. wondering just how well his agent knew him Draco went and packed up his work bag and headed out the door.

His work bag was a black duffel bag, filled with Nappies and plastic pants (and Panties) in his size. not that he wouldn't of minded if his clients supplied for him but some just went all cheap and others went over the top and expected him to go halves with him on it. if he brought his own supplies it just worked out better. He had some t-shirt and bibs in there, along with his selection of dummies and a bonnet, and most embarrassingly to him, a dress. It'd been a give from the first mommy he'd had and he'd promised to keep it even though he hated  the thing. Still, you never know when someone else might want him in a dress and this one again fit him to a t. One of his recurring daddies had tried to get him a proper diaper bag but Draco had drawn the line there since he had to think of how that would look walking to and from his daddies or mommies places. The Hotel where the big shot daddy was staying wasn't far from Draco's place so he walked, it was late enough out that not too many people were on the streets unless they were outside of a pub having a smoke. 'The wacky duck..some people shouldn't be allowed to name things.' Draco thought with a smirk, reading the sign. it wasn't a high class hotel which was good because it meant not having to fuss too much with the front desk, nor did it look like a cheap and easy place which meant a lot Friday night party animals around to make it risky. walking in he did go to the front desk and a young lady was behind it and smiled at him. "Excuse me miss, I'm looking for room 201?" He asked in a polite tone. She gave him a huge smile and giggled a little, making him a little nervous. "Ohhh one of his boys huh? second floor, right next to the lift." She said with a wink then asked. "So what's YOUR gimmick?~" "...Not to be rude but I don't believe thats any of your business. Thanks for the directions." Draco said, face turning reds he turned and walked fast for the lift, he chuckles ringing in his ears. getting off on the second floor, room 201 was right where she'd said it was and he made his way over and knocked on the door. five fast knocks and then three knocks with a space of 3 seconds between them just as the note had said to. He could hear movement in the room and tried to banish all thoughts of discomfort away and focus on being a good boy for his daddy. 'your a little nappy boy. your a little nappy boy..' He chanted in his head, and put a big grin on his face that vanished as the door was opened up. "Draco? what are you doing here? I'm expecting..company.." Harry mother fucking potter said, going from looking confused to smiling. "I..I think there's..been..a mistake." Draco squeaked out. of all the people in the world he LEAST wanted to know about this job, Harry potter was number one, with Hermione at 2 and Ron at three. "oh I don't think so little man." Potter said, looking totally delighted. "Thought I wish Miles would of told me YOU were going to be my little nappy boy. I'd of doubled my offer. Now, are you going to come in like a good boy or does daddy need to spank?" as Harry spoke he moved to the side and gestured for Draco to come in. The mental image of him over Potter lap and the phantom pain of it made a hand go to Draco's back side and he sprinted into the room and Harry closed the door behind him. "Good Boy."

Draco looked around the room, it was at least decently furbished and even had a muggle telle on a night stand and then turned his attention to potter. the 3 years since high school had been more then kind to harry who was tall, broad shouldered and handsome while Draco could of passed for a 11th grader after shaving. "I'm going to set a timer once our session starts.I've paid for two hours and I intend to get every last second." Harry said then walked over and sat on the large bed, and patted next to him for Draco to sit. The blond nodded slowly and walked over. "Look, I know this must be a bit of a shock to you finding out you'll be getting babied by me, but to be fair it's not like I ever thought you were into anything like this." Harry said, giving a warm smile. "I ..I um..See..Miles just offered me the job..and..I rolled with it..I-I thought you were married to Ron's little sister though? so what are yo-" "Doing playing around with a bunch of fetish bitches? Me and Ginny have a understanding, I can play with them but no sex and then she doesn't have to bark like a dog or wear nappies." Harry laughed. Draco nodded, that kinda made sense. "Um..I..I don't know if I feel comfortable with you..seeing me in.." Draco mewed softly. "Draco I thought we settled this. I paid for this,so you ARE going to be my stinky little nappy boy. I wasn't Joking about spanking you if I-" Whatever Harry was going to say was cut off as a pot of fear escaped from Draco's  backside, making him shut his eyes and bury his face in his hands mortified. "heh, seems like you're more of a little boy then you thought if just the threat of a spanking can motivate you that much." Harry chuckled and then pulled Draco in for a one armed hug. "Not a little guy all the time." Draco whined, and KNEW how bad it sounded. "it's just a job!" "Mhmmm I'm sure. Well since it's just a job let's get started. I was told you'd bring you're own supplies?" Harry said, clearly not believing a word Draco said, and making him give a huff and a pout. Which really, wasn't helping his case. Draco got  up off the bed and stormed over to his duffel bag and picked it up, bringing it over and dumping out it's contents. "See? only a professional would have THIS much of a selection to make for his customer!" he said, then the color drained from his face as Harry picked up the dress. "Heh, do i wanna ask?" Harry asked, holding it up. "..I'd prefer you not." Draco said in a small voice. "oh and plastic panties too~ How adorable! Sorry though Draco, I'm more into diaper BOYS. Maybe next time though." Harry said and winked and Draco found himself wishing he could melt into the floor. "T-That's ok." he mewed weakly. Harry chuckled and looking over the odds and ends made his choice. "Alright, I'm going to start the timer. any more attuide and it'll be you over my lap little man. Understand." Harry said, reaching for a timer that was on his nightstand. "Yes Daddy."

Now on the clock Draco waited for his first order from Harry. "Alright now little man, first things first, I think it's time you lost those silly big boy clothes. lord knows HOW you've kept your pants dry this long but I'm not losing from my damage despot when you tinkle all over the floor just because you wanted to play pretend and act like a big kid." Harry said. Draco nodded and slid his green t-shirt off first, then his blue jeans leaving him in a pair of blue briefs, though he paused for a moment to kick his pants and shirt away from him. "Awww, cute briefs, though too bad there's no print on them." Harry commented. "Lose' em." Draco bite his touage, Harry wasn't the first person to think he'd be adorable in animal prints or worse and he doubted he'd be the last, still it was a sore spot for him so he turned away as he slid the undies off to semi moon his 'daddy' and it was only with a stab of pain hit his cheeks he recalled about his diaper rash. "Ohhh I see why somebodies been a grumpy Gus! Poor widdle Draco has diapie rash!" harry said, sounding sympathetic but as Draco looked over his shoulder Harry was smiling ear to ear. "Is somebody not using enough nappy cream? or just sitting in his poopie nappies for ages because he likes the feeling?" "I..I do not! I just..I.." Draco fumed and went to go on a mini fit but BARELY caught himself before he'd earn a spanking. clenching his teeth he hissed though them. "My last client likes boys getting nappy rashes and didn't let me use power or cream if you MUST know daddy." "aww, don't worry! I'll use lots." Harry sand and then took 4 of the thickest terry cloth diapers Draco had and laid them out on a changing pad that was where a small rug had been. "wasn't there a rug there? what happened to it?" Draco asked, pointing and confused. "..Draco come on, we're wizards. what do you THINK happened?" "Oh..yeah.." feeling sheepish and covering his front with his hands Draco made his way over. (it wasn't that he didn't think harry wasn't gonna see them anyways, but LOTS of clients liked the all fake modesty bit.) "Lay on your tummy first so daddy can take care of your poor cheeks buddy and move your hands silly boy." harry said, taking a jar of rash cream from the pile and opening it. "Oh, the extra baby powder scent brand. very nice." "I..it's..what the customers like." Draco squeaked out, moving his hands and letting his 6 inches show though like a good boy he was bald down there. "Huh. that's cute." Harry commented seeing the larger then normal cock and Draco paused as Harry stared. "heh, just because I wear diapers for a living doesn't mean I'm tiny!" Draco said with a hint of pride. "And I'd agree except I know a enlargement charm when I see one." Harry said and snatched his wand up and in one swift motion, Draco's 6 inches because 1 and a half. "H-HEY! YOU CAN'T JUST" Draco yelped up, eyes having gone from wide in horror to filled with fury. "You know how much that bleeding cost to get done so it would stick around!?!" "Draco, one warning. attuide dropped or over my knee and a slipper on your buns." Harry said then added. "I'll give you a little extra to pay for your next charm." Draco clenched his fists but then took a deep breath, reminding himself he was a professional damn it then in a calm voice replied. "I can technicality end the session now potter..your not allowed to use magic on me without my consent. But I'll take you up on your offer." with that he laid himself down on the mat, with his buns up and turned away from harry. "of course admit it. you want someone to treat your owie bum." Harry said and then started to coat the cream on the boys back side. Having found his favorite black and green dummy on the mat, Draco just popped it into his mouth, not dignifying potter with a answer.

His bottom coated with cream and powdered, and then his front looked after too, Draco had to admit Harry had done a better job then he could of on his own and it was feeling much better as Harry pinned the thick nappies shut on him. Picking up a pair of clear rubber pants Harry smiled down at Draco. Lift your legs please little one." Draco suckled on his dummy and nodded, helping daddy slide them over his feet and ankles and then lifting up his bum without being told so daddy could get them part way up over the diapies. "Hmm, mighta gone too thick..or we just need to use a little gravity." Harry said. Before Draco could go to ask what he meant by that, Harry had lifted him up and was holding him up by the rubber pants. not wanting to fall backwards as harry semi bounced him, Draco whined behind his dummy and leaned forward, semi hugging Harry as he got the rubber pants over the diapers. "awww, I love you too~" Harry chuckled and standing Draco on his feet, kissed his cheek bringing a fresh blush to the blonds face. the dummy fell from Draco's mouth and while Harry caught it Draco started up again. "I-I don't, that's not! Look I just didn't wan-" Draco started to whine when the dummy was popped back in his mouth and despite himself he started to suckle on it again. "you don't have to be bashful with me little man. Lots of your fellow workers have started to swoon over me." Harry said. Draco huffed and glared, but kept the dummy in his mouth.

Harry smirked, Draco was just TOO perfect like this and such a fussy baby he hadn't even noticed that the dummy had been enchanted with a little charm used by parents who's infants/toddler were backed up but refused to take their medicine. the more Draco suckled the stronger the charm would get and with how huffy he was and the rapid suckling he was doing.. "what down you come take a seat on daddies lap and let him fondle that big fat nappy butt of yours?" Harry said and Draco squirmed like crazy but let himself be lead over. He was a little disappointed he hadn't had a chance to spank the little guys behind, he'd  gotten a pair of slippers JUST for that, but then again the little guy had nappy rash. 'once it clears up though..' Harry thought with a grin. there was no way this was gonna be a one time thing,that was for sure. Sitting on the bed and Draco on his lap side saddle style, Harry smirked as the big baby (oh sorry, professional) put his armed around Harry's neck and leaned in with his head on Harry chest/shoulder 'God, who's falling for who here?' Harry wondered, a flush coming to his own face. "You know you really are too cute. I was going to make my nappy lad crawl around and humiliate himself, but with you, I'll just read you a story. would baby Draco like that?" harry asked. Draco nodded and smiled a little behind his dummy. "There's just Onnne little thing..you have to keep your dummy in. otherwise I'll have you making a got out of yourself. got it?" Harry added. again Draco nodded and Harry poofed a nursery book out of thin air and started to read.

Draco squirmed slightly as he sat in daddies lap. this was..well..alot nice then his normal clients treated him and he did indeed find himself maybe kinda slightly crushing on Harry, and it was giving him butterflies or something in his tummy. He closed his eyes and suckled on his dummy, listening to Harry read and enjoying the hand that kept patting on his Nappied behind. "-and then the big bad wolf..Heh, Still awake little one?" Came daddies voice and Draco opened his eyes and nodded, giving a smile from behind his dummy. "Just checking. If you wanna go for a little nap I can pause the timer, just let me know." Harry said then leaned down and kissed Draco's forehead. Draco squirmed, the idea f just going for a nap and then waking up to be babied more suddenly felt really tempting! Still it was better to get the job done and maybe just kinda hint he'd be open to a longer session next time. He wasn't even sure how much time was left, just that daddy had been reading to him and he'd gone into a total little state he wasn't used to. "You ready for me to go back t-" Harry started to say but then he was cut off as a loud but muffled poot escaped out Draco's behind, and warmed up Harry's hand. "oh, Is somebody about to make presents like a good boy?" harry asked. Thankfully the nappies cut down on the smell but Draco whined, something he'd eaten was NOT agreeing with him because that fart had been rancid! he reached up and removed his dummy and looked at Harry with a sheepish smile. "Uh..sorry,know that stinks I don-" He started to say but anther poot forced it's way out with gusto, almost hurting and harry laughed. "I think that answers if somebodies gonna make BM for daddy." he said then wrinkled his nose. "About time too from the smell of things little guy." "I-I swear I used the potty earlier today! I don't know why i-it's guhhh!" Draco cried out as a super wet fart erupted and he mewed. "M-Maybe we should reschedule this..this is gonna be toxic!" "oh no, it's ok, I don't mind a stinky boy. and I paid to have the whole floor to myself so no ones gonna complain." Harry chuckled and shifted Draco on his lap. Now instead of sitting side saddle he was back to Harry's front and his bum on Harry's right leg, with Harry holding his arms and kissing the back of his neck. Draco..wasn't exactly how he felt about al of this, normally he would of charged extra for the neck kisses but daddy was kissing and nibbling just in the right places. "oh! Oh!! Daddy!" Draco mewed like a little needy boy..no. a little needy BABY. "Be a good boy for daddy baby Draco, Make me a nice BIG present." Harry coo'ed into Draco's ear. Be a good boy. Jesus. just the words were driving Draco wild and his little nub was twitching as the command took hold and he started to grunt and push. "Y-Yesh daddy! I'll be a good boy! da bestest boy!" Draco cried out. His rosebud opened wide and muck rapidly poured out, filling up the seat of the nappies so fast that Draco also seemed to get taller! as the filth filled the diaper and the smell filled the room, Draco drooled and moaned as Harry went back to assaulting his neck with kisses. "Good boy Draco! Such a good big stinky boy!" Harry coo'ed. Draco mewed happily and kicked his legs, not even minding the smell or feel and only semi lifted himself up for a few to keep going and gasped as the muck started to fill the front of his nappy, coating his cock and balls. "Oh! Oh! Daddy i wuv you! I wuv going popie fer you!" Draco baby babbled on and as even as he farted and kept going. Harry chuckled and lifted the big baby up and turned him around, but still on his knee. "And I love you. now you almost done?" Harry asked. "Uhh.." Draco looked unsure and make a scrunchie face that had Harry biting his bottom lip and there was a few sputtering farts then nothing. "I fink so." "Good, who wants to play horise?" Harry asked with a loving smile. "Oh but da-da..dat'll make my BM go all over mah nappies." Draco said, biting his lip now. the sensation of being picked up and sat in his mess had been well..wonderful! "Don't worry about it. That's daddies job to worry about those things." Harry said and then kissed Draco on the lips, deep and hard and the little professionals mind and self control was gone as the kiss broke off. "So..Horise?" "hehehe ya ya! Horise daddy!" Harry smirked and getting Draco to hold onto his shoulder and putting his hands on the big babies sides, started to bounce him with his knee. gently at first but then picking up more and more speed as he went on. the smushing of the mess was having it's effect as Draco gasped and moaned and leaned forehead, face in Harry's chest as he was getting closer and closer to making a sticky in his diapers. it went without saying that he had flooded them though he couldn't be sure when and god he was just..so..close.. BZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ! the ride stopped and Draco was trying to figure out what had happened and what was that noise, as daddy sat him on the bed. "Looks like our time is up buddy. But this was VERY fun. we should do it again sometime." Harry said., turning off the timer and kissing Draco's cheek. "Buh..buh..I was bot ta." Draco mewed and whimpered. "I know buddy, but like you said, your a professional. If you're free tomorrow night I would LOVE to book anther session." Harry said, chuckling at the look on the blonds face. "I..But..I.." Draco's mind was frazzled, and he was finding it hard to even think. "I put some extra gold in your diaper bag for you little guy.to cover you're penis enlargement charm. though i think a little cock looks better." Harry said, sweeping the baby stuff back in the duffel bag and handing it over to Draco. The blond was just so out of it, wanting more, so horny he barely realized he was being ushered out the door with his pleas of five more minutes ignored. A final pat on the butt and a kiss on the cheek and Draco was out in the hall and numbly made his way to the lift, thinking about how good being with potter had felt and how amazing he was. It wasn't till she stepped out onto the first floor and started to make his way into the lobby and heard a snort then lots of laughter he realized he'd forgotten to change back, and was still in just his soiled nappy and socks. "So I guess THAT'S your gimmick huh?" the clerk asked. "I..I..I'll be right ba-" Draco started to say but was cut off. "Ohhh Sorry. Mr.Potter has made it clear once one of his guest is back in the lobby, they're not to be allowed back into his room. Sorry sweetie, you'll have to go home like that." The clerk said, though her tone made it clear she was far more delighted then sorry. Whining loudly though happy that he kept his flat key in his duffel ba, the big stinky baby started the normally short but tonight long walk home.

the end

[tigerkirby215]

5e Rakan, the Charmer build (League of Legends)

(Artwork by Riot Games)

Happy day after Valentine's Day friends. I wrote this build in August, and a lot has happened to my little bird twink during that time. Along with a damn good new skin (and you know: new season) he’s become one of the more sought out supports in pro play. Also I got him to Mastery 5 at time of writing (December 13th, 2020.) Who knows: I might update this little blurb to say I got him to a higher mastery.

Sadly I don’t have a Xayah to duo queue with. But I’m always ready to be the support that you need~ 💓

GOALS

Am I not magnificent? - Rakan’s title is literally “the charmer.” Of course we’re gonna need some charms.

War is in the dance - With an ability called “Battle Dance” we’ll need to be quick on our feat, dashing around our foes and popping them up with a Grand Entrance.

Nothing's fun without risk - While he may not be the best enchanter Rakan has a ton of heals and shields for both himself and his allies.

RACE

Rakan is half bird, but he doesn’t do a lot of flying which leaves Aarakocra out of the picture. He’s also incredibly chatty (holy shit have you seen how many voice lines Xayah and Rakan have?) so Kenku is definitely not an option. So when in Rome as a furry look no further than a Shifter.

All Shifters have Darkvision and their Shifting ability to gain temporary hitpoints, but everything else is determined by their subrace: to be ever quick and ever charming go for a Swiftstride. As a Swiftstride Shifter your Dexterity increases by 2 and your Charisma increases by 1. You are Graceful and have proficiency with the Acrobatics skill, and your Shifting feature lets you get down with The Quickness, moving 10 feet faster and being able to move 10 feet as a reaction if an enemy ends their turn within 5 feet of you, all while not provoking oppertunity attacks!

ABILITY SCORES

15; WISDOM - Rakan is all about the spirit of the wild and the subtle magic of nature. Wait Nature and Arcana are Intelligence skills? Uhhhhh... 

14; INTELLIGENCE - Rakan certainly doesn’t show that he’s smart but Nature and Arcana are Intelligence skills. That, and this is a requirement for a very particular class.

13; CHARISMA - A charmer of course needs to be charming. (Feel free to swap this with CON if you want more health but worse RP.)

12; DEXTERITY - Even if Rakan is normally shirtless this is enough for good ol’ Medium Armor thanks to our Racial stat increases.

10; CONSTITUTION - Even though Rakan plays up close and personal he’s certainly not a tank.

8; STRENGTH - You wouldn’t risk ruffling your feathers by doing heavy lifting.

BACKGROUND

While Rakan didn’t start out a rebel like Xayah he gladly joined her cause, and while a background like Entertainer might make more sense for him he’s without a doubt a Freedom Fighter now... unfortunately there’s no Freedom Fighter background so Faction Agent is the next best thing.

You get proficiency with any Intelligence, Wisdom, or Charisma ability and naturally we’ll be going for Performance. You also get proficiency in Insight but we’re actually going to be replacing it with Arcana for knowledge of the magic of the wild. Additionally you can learn two languages of your choice: unfortunately Aarakocra isn’t an option but Auran (or rather Primordial) is. And to learn the ancient language of Ionia I’d recommend Sylvan.

As a vastayan rebel you can gain access to a Safe Haven for you and your allies. By using secret signs and passwords you can identify other rebels who can bring you to a safe house, give you a free place to stay, or assist you in finding information. They won’t risk their lives for you but as long as you remember the password they’ll be willing to help. You... did remember the password, right?

(Artwork by Riot Games)

THE BUILD

LEVEL 1 - CLERIC 1

Starting off as a Cleric, the king of supports. As a Cleric you get proficiency in two skills from the Cleric list: this is actually where we’ll be grabbing Insight proficiency from along with Medicine to keep Xayah safe.

Clerics get to choose their subclass at level 1 and there are obviously a lot of options to go for: Peace to bond with Xayah, War to better your battle dance, Nature or Arcana to further your connection to natural magic... Bet you wouldn’t expect the choice to be the Order Domain from Guildmasters’ Guide to Ravnica! (Also reprinted in Tasha’s Cauldron.) (I’ll go over why Order whenever we get abilities important to the build.)

For a start Order Clerics get proficiency in Heavy Armor as well as either Intimidation or Persuasion; Xayah’s got the scary part down so go for Persuasion, since someone’s gotta be the smooth talker! You also get Voice of Authority, letting you set up for an ally with a Grand Entrance. If you cast a spell with a spell slot and target an ally they can use their reaction to make one weapon attack against a creature of your choice. You have to be able to see the enemy you want them to target, and if you target multiple allies with a spell only one of them can use their reaction to attack. But setting up for friends to cut through foes is what you do best!

Speaking of spells and set-up Clerics get access to Spellcasting! You can learn three cantrips at level 1: for a Gleaming Quill grab Sacred Flame which does Radiant damage (not Fire damage!) to a foe. If you’re getting surrounded however Word of Radiance will let you shine on your foes for more Radiant damage! And to be a good support and help your allies out of combat Guidance lets you add a d4 to ability checks.

You can also prepare a number of spells equal to your Wisdom modifier plus your Cleric level. As an Order Domain Cleric you have Heroism and Command as part of your Domain Spells, meaning that you don’t have to prepare to be the hero and force your enemies in line. For a close range heal look no further than Cure Wounds. For a shield grab Shield of Faith to make it harder for enemies to kill your allies. And to set up for your friends grab Bless, making it easier for them to hit and survive.

LEVEL 2 - CLERIC 2

Second level Clerics can Channel Divinity once per short or long rest, invoking the power of the gods to help them. All Clerics can Turn Undead, forcing undead within 30 feet to make a Wisdom save or run away from you. However Order Clerics can charm their foes with Order’s Demand. You can charm (yes charm!) anyone of your choice within 30 feet until the end of your next turn, or until they take damage. Additionally you can force them to drop whatever they’re holding so they don’t shoot Xayah!

This is one of the many abilities I wanted out of Order Domain. A big AoE charm that also stops enemies from hitting you and your friends is right up Rakan’s alley.

You can also prepare another spell and while Rakan doesn’t have a ranged heal in-game Healing Word is just too good to pass up on as an Order Cleric. Bonus action let your friend whack an enemy!

LEVEL 3 - WIZARD 1

Didn’t take Rakan as the bookish type, did you? Well, he isn’t, but we need some abilities from Wizard that we can’t get elsewhere except Clockwork Sorcerer which makes even less sense for Rakan. Regardless Wizards also get Spellcasting. You learn 3 cantrips from the Wizard list: for a more direct autoattack grab Firebolt because I like having a variety of damaging cantrips, to add some pizzazz to your dance Prestidigitation will let you add a bunch of funky visual effects as you please, and for some coordination in Team Chat grab Message! "Did you notice the sky?" "It's lovely." "Not as beautiful as you."

You can prepare a number of spells equal to your Wizard level plus your Intelligence modifier, but when you multiclass into Wizard you can learn 4 spells to put in your spellbook. You can only prepare spells in your spellbook is the long-and-short of the class. Anyways: to bedazzle your foes grab Color Spray and blind them with your beauty. For a little owl companion take Find Familiar. To run when you need to Expeditious Retreat will help. And finally to detect the magic of the world take... Detect Magic...

Wizards also have Arcane Recovery, letting them recover a spell slots of a combined level equal to half their Wizard level rounded down. In short every spell slot counts the same number of “points” as the spell’s level, and you can recover a number of spell points equal to half your Wizard level. So a third level Wizard can either recover a 2nd level spell or two 1st level spells. Oh and you can’t recover spell slots past 5th level.

LEVEL 4 - WIZARD 2

Second level Wizards can choose their Arcane Tradition, and to protect yourself with Fey Feathers the School of Abjuration is here for you. Along with being an Abjuration Savant (letting you learn Abjuration spells in half the time for half the cost) you have an Arcane Ward to shield you: when you cast a leveled Abjuration spell you can also create a magical ward on yourself that lasts until you finish a long rest. The ward has a hit point maximum equal to twice your Wizard level plus your Intelligence modifier. (So currently 6 HP.)

Whenever you take damage, the ward takes the damage instead. If the damage reduces the ward to 0 hit points, you take any remaining damage. Whenever you cast an abjuration spell of 1st level or higher, the ward regains a number of hit points equal to twice the level of the spell.

You also learn 2 more spells so how about some Abjuration spells? Shield is a reaction Abjuration spell to protect you from melee attacks, while Absorb Elements is a reaction Abjuration spell to protect you from magic. AR and MR!

(Artist unknown. Made for Riot Games.)

LEVEL 5 - WIZARD 3

3rd level Wizards can learn second level spells but I’d actually suggest learning Alarm back at 1st level. Why Alarm? It’s an Abjuration spell you can cast as a Ritual, so you can just cast it continuously to refresh your Arcane Ward even without preparing the spell. For your other spell Mirror Image is a quick and easy way to keep the baddies from whacking you.

LEVEL 6 - WIZARD 4

4th level Wizards get an Ability Score Improvement but I’m actually going to suggest the Observant feat to increase your uneven Wisdom score. Every Support’s gotta pay attention to their wards!

You can also learn another two spells along with a cantrip: take Dancing Lights to set up a stage! As for spells you’re the loud and proud sort so to make a Grand Entrance grab Knock to make way for your party! Meanwhile if you want to keep yourself and your allies safe from ranged harm Warding Wind will do just that and more, but it will also make it harder for Xayah to hit. "What the hell were you thinking?" "Back there?" "Yes." "I wasn't. I never think. Ugh... thinking."

LEVEL 7 - WIZARD 5

5th level Wizards can learn third level spells so it’s time to grab our first mass charm: Hypnotic Pattern, which isn’t an Enchantment spell but in fact an Illusion spell (which will be important later.) If you want to get down with The Quickness however there’s nothing better than some good old-fashioned Haste.

LEVEL 8 - WIZARD 6

6th level Abjuration Wizards can finally protect their party and their girlfriend thanks to Projected Ward, letting you use your reaction to reduce the damage an ally takes with your Arcane Ward. “Thank you honey!”

You can also learn two more spells from the Wizard spell list. Xayah need to call someone? Help her with Sending. Want to go full AP for the traditional D&D Grand Entrance? Fireball.

(Artwork by Riot Games)

LEVEL 9 - CLERIC 3

We’ve spent enough time down in Nerdsville so how about some more Cleric levels? Third level Clerics can prepare second level spells like Aid to boost up your teammates with a Knight’s Vow. Speaking of Knight’s Vow Warding Bond will let you bond with Xayah so you take some damage for her.

Additionally as an Order Domain Cleric you have Hold Person and Zone of Truth innately prepared. Keep enemies at bay and let them know the truth!

LEVEL 10 - CLERIC 4

4th level Clerics get an Ability Score Improvement and I’m going to suggest further increasing your Wisdom, as it’ll help us more with our Cleric abilities which will be important later.

You also learn another cantrip such as Mending to keep your outfit in check. Additionally you can prepare two new spells with your increased Wisdom: Lesser Restoration can give you or Xayah some Tenacity when needed, but I’d suggest holding off on the other slot.

LEVEL 11 - CLERIC 5

5th level Clerics who use Turn Undead now Destroy Undead of CR 1/2 or lower. It’s unlikely that you’ll be fighting CR 1/2 enemies at level 11 but hey: it’s still useful!

What’s more useful however is that you can now prepare third level spells! As an Order Cleric you have Mass Healing Word for Redemption, or Slow to... slow the enemy. Maybe you grabbed Righteous Glory? Who knows.

Regardless the important thing is your charms so grab Fast Friends to charm single targets and Incite Greed to get a whole crowd to follow your Fey Feathers!

You may be asking why we’re grabbing Enchantment Spells of all the spells that Clerics get a third level. Well for one it’s because you’re The Charmer, but more importantly...

LEVEL 12 - CLERIC 6

At 6th level you become an Embodiment of the Law as an Order Domain Cleric. The law of dance that is! If you cast an Enchantment spell of first level or higher you can choose to make that spell a bonus action instead, and can do it a number of times equal to your Wisdom modifier. You regain these fast charms after a long rest.

This was the main reason I went into Order Domain. Being able to quickly charm foes is textbook for Rakan, which made this subclass ideal for this build.

You can also prepare another spell at this level: Dispel Magic with Mikael's Crucible in case of any strong debuffs. Also more Abjuration spells for your shield!

(Artwork by Yusuh on DeviantArt. You have no idea how hard it is to find solo artwork for these two.)

LEVEL 13 - WIZARD 7

7th level Wizards can learn 4th level spells like Confusion; something that fills my allies whenever I take Rakan into the jungle. For your other spell I’d actually suggest hopping back to third level for Counterspell to keep your allies safe with more Abjuration. Trust me it’ll be important later.

LEVEL 14 - WIZARD 8

At 8th level you get an Ability Score Improvement and despite being a Wizard we’ve kinda been ignoring Intelligence: let’s fix that with a +2 so our Ward can be stronger as can our Wizard spells.

You can also learn two new spells: more Charms? Charm Monster, so even the mighty Volibear can’t resist you. Other than that there are tons of great Wizard spells but I’m never going to say no to Dimension Door.

LEVEL 15 - WIZARD 9

9th level Wizards can cast 5th level spells like Dominate Person for charms on-par with mind control! (Because it is Mind Control.) For more combative 5th level spells Synaptic Status will let you bedazzle everyone in a 20 foot radius sphere, making it harder to hit as they’re stunned by your beauty. Rakan can have some AP; as a treat.

LEVEL 16 - WIZARD 10

10th level Abjuration Wizards get Improved Abjuration, letting them add their proficiency bonus to any ability check to Dispel Magic (such as with Dispel Magic or Counterspell.) If you wish you can also have Bless active on yourself for a d4 + 5 to any counterspell check. When you consider that the DC is equal to 10 plus the spell’s level and you have up to a +9 to the check it’s more than likely that you can be a Guardian against any dangerous spells!

You also get another cantrip at this level: do you already have too many cantrips? Yeah probably, but to get more props for your dance take Minor Illusion.

As for your two new Wizard spells Hold Monster is like Hold Person, but it works on Baron! And how about something to keep Zoe in her dimension? Banishment is a 4th level spell that works like a super CC that knocks an enemy out of the fight completely. You can’t attack them while they’re on another plane, but if they’re not native to the plane and spend a full minute Banished they go back to their original plane.

(Artwork by Riot Games)

LEVEL 17 - WIZARD 11

11th Wizards can prepare 6th level spells. Want to keep Xayah safe from a falling temple and shadow ninjas? Globe of Invulnerability blocks all spells of one level lower than you used to cast the spell. In general. The globe surrounds you but you can dive in to protect Xayah. But what if you just want to dance? Look no further than Otto's Irresistible Dance! It’s a spell that forces everyone to dance; that’s all you need to know! But seriously read the description of your spells.

LEVEL 18 - WIZARD 12

12th level Wizards get another Ability Score Improvement: seeing as we are going deep down the Wizard path it only makes sense to get a bit more Intelligence.

You can also learn 2 more spells: Contingency will let you cast a spell in case of emergency. Choose a spell of 5th level or lower that can target yourself and a trigger for the spell: when the trigger happens the spell activates. Backup plans are more of Xayah’s thing, but something like “Banish myself if I’m about to die because Xayah would kill herself if I died” is a good plan.

There are tons of other good Wizard spells; so many that I can’t choose any that would particularly fit Rakan or the build as a whole. You have a limited number of prepared spells anyways so take something you think will be useful.

LEVEL 19 - WIZARD 13

13th level Wizards can prepare 7th level spells: want to do a conjoined recall? Teleport will let you and up to 8 willing creates teleport to a location, such as your fountain. There’s a table of places you can end up which I suggest looking at for the full details of the spell, because it’s a rather overwhelming spell to explain without copy-pasting the description. But because I further suffer with what spells to give you in a high leveled Wizard build how about a fancy light show? Crown of Stars lets seven stars orbit your head which you can shoot out at enemies or light up the night!

LEVEL 20 - WIZARD 14

Our capstone is the 14th level of Abjuration Wizard for some much needed MR. Spell Resistance lets you resist all damage coming from spells and have advantage on all saving throws against spells!

Speaking of spells you can learn your final two but... pick for yourself this time! Xayah will love you despite all your faults, and I’m sure that you can make a choice for yourself. This is my way of saying I’m sick of picking Wizard spells.

FINAL BUILD

PROS

You will see my dance - You are the master of keeping your friends safe with charms to keep fights from happening and both shields and heals to keep your allies from being hurt.

Look at me now! - You are incredibly elusive: 18 AC (Scale Mail + Shield) you can bump up with the Shield spell, a 32 HP ward to protect you and your allies, and even Shifting for Temp HP and more dodging.

You put us in a cage? I put you in the ground - And of course as a caster with full caster levels you are more than capable of putting down the hurt, especially due to the added efficiency of being able to cast two spells in a turn (well a leveled spell and a cantrip) thanks to Embodiment of the Law.

CONS

I don't have to remember the plan if you do - You are essentially mixing two spellcasters who want you to use extremely dedicated spell lists. Abjuration spells to make Abjuration Wizard work and Enchantment Spells to make Order Cleric work. Sure you don’t only need to cast Enchantment and Abjuration spells but there also aren’t that many Abjuration spells to power up your ward.

I can't die looking this good! - The vast majority of your levels being in Wizard combined with a 0 Constitution score results in a health bar that’s easily under 100. You may have advantage on all saving throws but Power Word Kill has no save.

Woo! You animals are dumb! - The other problem with mixing two full casters together is that you can’t get the best of both worlds. You aren’t getting 9th level spells in general (even if you get the slots for ‘em) and both your Wisdom and your Intelligence aren’t maxed out. Sure if you aren’t using Standard Array that isn’t an issue but you’re bound to drop something.

But if you were perfect why would you need Xayah? She completes you, and you complete her. Fight along side her and together you’ll be unstoppable. There’s nothing you can’t defeat with the power of love... But a plan would also probably be good. "I think Xayah told me to improvise. At least, that's the only part of the plan I remember."

(Artwork by Riot Games)

#dnd #dnd 5e #dnd build #dnd guide #valentine's day #dnd wizard #dnd cleric #League of Legends #League of Legends Rakan #xayah and rakan #love

[angellazull]

Hogwarts Mystery Profile: Angelo Lancaster

Finally I updated Angel's profile, model of the form was made by @hogwartsmysterystory, hope this clarifies better.

(@immagrosscandy art)

Name: Angelo Nikolas Stellair Lancaster.

Gender: Male.

Age: 17.

Birth Date: August 23, 1972.

Species: Half-veela.

Blood Status: Half-Blood.

Sexuality: Pansexual.

Alignment: Chaotic Good.

Ethnicity: Caucasian.

Nationality: Brazilian/British.

Residence: Royal-Garden, England.

Myer Briggs Personality Type: INTJ-T.

The Mage

1st Wand:

Acacia – 30 cm – Slightly Springy – Dragon heartstrings core (Antipodean Opaleye).

A very unusual wand wood, which I have found creates tricky wands that often refuse to produce magic for any but their owner, and also withhold their best effects from all but those most gifted. This sensitivity renders them difficult to place, and I keep only a small stock for those witches or wizards of sufficient subtlety, for acacia is not suited to what is commonly known as ‘bangs-and-smells’ magic. When well-matched, an acacia wand matches any for power, though it is often underrated due to the peculiarity of its temperament.

Ebony – 35 cm – Slightly Springy – Veela hair core (Provided by Leonor Lancaster). With a sapphire at the end of the handle and silver details.

2nd Wand:

(Art by @kyril-but-magical)

This jet-black wand wood has an impressive appearance and reputation, being highly suited to all manner of combative magic, and to Transfiguration. Ebony is happiest in the hand of those with the courage to be themselves. Frequently non-conformist, highly individual or comfortable with the status of outsider, ebony wand owners have been found both among the ranks of the Order of the Phoenix and among the Death Eaters. In my experience the ebony wand’s perfect match is one who will hold fast to his or her beliefs, no matter what the external pressure, and will not be swayed lightly from their purpose.

Animagus: A black Bombay cat, with a streak of blue fur on its head between its ears.

Misc Magical Abilities: Veela charm, hypnosis and sensitive to emotions.

Boggart Form:

4st-11th year: The Royal-Garden boys laughing at him and humiliating him.

11th-13th year: His friends turning away from him for being a Veela.

13th year onwards: His most important people dying without him being able to do anything.

Riddikulus form: The previous person juggling puffskeins.

Amortentia: Smell of new book, roses (the smell of Penny), peaches and apple pie.

Patronus: Cat bombay.

Patronus Memory: Jacob and him skating on ice when he was a child and his brother saving him from drowning on the ice.

Mirror of Erised: He graduating as an auror and his dad congratulating him and saying that he is proud of him.

Favourite Spells:

Animus Glacius❄️

Expecto Patronum🐈

Blue Sparks🎆

Aguamenti💦

Colovaria⚪➡️🔵

Voiceclaim: Asa Butterfield

Game appearance:

Height: 1.79 m

Weight: 60 Kg

Eye Colour: Blue sapphire

Hair Colour:

White (original)

Royal Blue (Colovaria)

Skin Tone: White

Body Modifications: N/A

Scarring: A scar on the back of his head hidden by his hair, caused by the time the Royal-Garden boys pushed him and he hit his head on the wall of the fountain.

Inventory: His wand, a notebook , A pen, current reading book, keyring earned from Kyril on his birthday.

Fashion: 

Casual - A black jeans, with his sweater with the coat of arms of Ravenclaw, with his blue All Star.

Summer - A royal blue T-shirt, black vest, dark blue denim shorts, and black sneakers.

Winter - A plain T-shirt, a wool sweater, and his furry white overcoat, with winter boots.

Formal Wear - Midnight blue smoking, with a white bow tie and black shoes.

Allegiances

Hogwarts House: Ravenclaw

Illvermony House: Horned Serpent

Affiliations/Organisations:

The Lancaster family.

The Stellair Family.

The Trindade Family (Renegade).

Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

Circle of Khanna.

The Order of the Phoenix.

Professions:

Auror - 1991 - 2011.

Obliviator - 2011 - 2012.

Charms professor in Hogwarts 2011 - present.

Hogwarts Information

Class Proficiencies:

Astronomy - O

Charms – O

DADA – O

Flying – E

Herbology – O

History of Magic – O

Potions – E

Transfiguration – O

Electives:

Ancient Runes - E

CoMC - A

Quidditch: Seeker

Extra Curricular:

Transfiguration Club.

Charms Club.

Frog Choir.

Sphinx Club.

Favourite Professors:

Minerva McGonagall - Angel likes how Professor McGonagall believed in his talent for Transfiguration and did not compare him to his brother, Jay. Although she is very strict in her classes, she is always willing to help you.

Filius Flitwick - Angelo likes how the classes are fun and are never monotonous, being a Ravenclaw, Angel is very curious and likes how the teacher always clarifies his doubts and teaches him several spells, even if he is not in his class schedule and is used in their search for the Cursed Vaults and the Khanna Circle.

Least Favorite Professors:

Severus Snape - Angel admires Snape's ability and great knowledge in Potions and the Dark Arts, however he doesn't like how Snape insults him or says he is incompetent, he likes to be stimulated to learn more, with lessons in Snape, he just hopes to survive until the end of class without making his cauldron explode.

Patrícia Rakepick - Angel has always had a back seat with Rakepick, perhaps it was the way in which she found herself unshakable and unattainable. Although he learned many things from her, he never really liked her personality and always stayed away from her as much as possible. And after she murdered Rowan, the boy developed a deadly hatred for the ex-professor.

Relationships

Brother:

Jacob "Jay" Alexander Stellair Lancaster.

Half-blood.

Half-veela.

Ravenclaw.

He was a member of the Herbology Club and the dueling club until he was expelled from the school.

Hippogriff club.

Father: Charles Michael Lancaster ✞

Pure-blood.

Ravenclaw.

Ravenclaw Quidditch Team Chase.

He became an auror after he graduated from Hogwarts.

Member of the Order of the Phoenix original.

He was killed in a duel against Evan Rosier.

Mother: Leonor Mary Stellair Lancaster.

Veela.

Did not attend any magic school.

Specialists in elemental magic.

Specialist in healing spells.

Loves to sing and draw.

Has a great talent for gastronomy.

Love Interest(s):

Canon: Penny Haywood.

(sorry for the low quality image.)

Mc x Mc: Kyril Vasiley @kyril-hphm (Kyril Art)

Best Friends:

Canon:

🦡Penny Haywood.

🦅Rowan Khanna (Dead).

🦅Talbott Winger.

🐍Barnaby Lee.

🦡Chiara Lobisca.

MCs:

🐍(💛)Roger Lopez @hphm-roger

🐍Kyril Vasiley @kyril-hphm

🦅Elaiza Schuyler @annabelle-tanaka-official

🦅Candy and Paula Vigiere @immagrosscandy

Rival:

🐍Merula Snyde.

🐍 Ismelda Murk.

🦁Sebastian Anguslow.

Enemy:

Patrícia Rakepick.

Wizard in white robes.

"R" members.

Dormmates:

🦅Rowan Khanna (dead).

🦅Talbott Winger.

🦅Andre Egwu.

🦅Arjun Singh. @hogwarts9

Pets:

Arthy, the black cat.

Rowena, the snow owl (Jay owl).

Nevasca, the ice salamander.

Closest Cannon Friends:

🦡Penny Haywood.

🦅Rowan Khanna (dead).

🦅Talbott Winger.

🐍Barnaby Lee.

🦡Chiara Lobisca.

🦡Nymphadora Tonks.

🦁Bill Weasley.

🦁Charlie Weasley.

🦁Jae Kim.

🦅Badeea Ali.

🦁Ben Copper.

Closest MC Friends:

🐍(💛)Roger Lopez @hphm-roger

🐍Kyril Vasiley @kyril-hphm

🦅Elaiza Schuyler @annabelle-tanaka-official

🦅Candy e 🦡PauLINE Vigiere @immagrosscandy

🐍Jason Novak @death-or-sleep

🐍Carewyn Cronwell @carewyncromwell

🦅Flavio Ceccere @sirfluffig

🦅Montague Donohue @montaguehphm

🐍Dusty Emerald @dusty-emerald-hphm

🦡Stephanie Alexeev @hanihonii

🐍Lith Thorne @slytherinliththorne

🦁Aishwarya Mehra and 🦅Arjun Singh @hogwarts9

🦁Ethren Whitecross @hogwartsmysterystory

🦅 Simon Cahill @cursed-vault-ravenclaw

🦅Wendy Gordon @drinkyoursoupbitch

🦡Honey @hmhoney

🦅Luna Silver @lunasilvermorny

🦡Jackeline Peterson @jackie-and-the-curse

🦁 Tu Liang @wangxianforever000

🦅Samanta O'Connell @samshogwarts

Background/History:

Pre-Hogwarts: Angelo was born on August 23, 1972, in the city of São Paulo, Brazil, while his father (as the son of a Brazilian) did international work in the South American country. But he returned to England at the age of four, going to live in the small village of Royal-Garden, near the south coast of the country.

At 6, Angelo suffered the first blow of his life, his father was murdered in a duel against death eater Evan Rosier.

Because of the instability of his Veela powers, he can never interact with Muggle children, because of the risks of revealing the Wizarding World. And after learning about his nature, some wizard boys who lived in the Royal Garden began to bully him, which made him stay away from the children. The only person who knew all this was Jay, and defended his little brother.

When his brother disappeared, Angelo completely isolated himself, he started to stay inside the house reading his father's and brother's books.

At 8, Angelo won Arthy as a birthday present from his mother, and that made the rest of his childhood bearable.

1st Year: While traveling on the Hogwarts Express, Angel felt very insecure about being a half-veela, so in an attempt to change the color of his white hair to black, he ended up turning his hair blue. During the first year, Angel avoided to relate with the other students, having Rowan like its only friend. His teachers, with the exception of Professor Flitwick and McGonagall, were the only ones who didn't compare him to Jay.

After his duel with Merula, Angel met Penny Haywood, when the girl was so kind to him, that from that moment, Angel always blushed when she spoke to him.

He thought he would be a normal student, but no matter how much he avoided it, the curiosity to know what happened to his brother spoke louder, then with the help of Rowan and Penny, they decided to investigate the appearance of the "mysterious ice".

2st Year: As soon as he returned to Hogwarts, Angelo was increasingly determined to discover the truth about his brother and what led him to become involved with the Cursed Vaults. After finding Ben trapped in the ice, he realized that he would need to do what he could to break the curse.

When they found the first vault, and when Rowan was wounded, Angel spent every minute of his free time, studying how to get through the ice door.

The more he investigated, the more bad rumors of his brother were coming, but he refused to believe that Jay was a bad and selfish person as they say he is.

When it was finally time to enter the ice vault. Angelo, Penny and Bill, with much effort, managed to break the curse.

3st Year: With clues to the next Vault, he had to deal with Sebastian Anguslow, a boy who always bullied him at the Royal Garden, so after explaining his situation to Talbott Winger, he agreed to help him become an animagus. After five months, he managed to become a black Bombay cat. So he was able to avoid Anguslow and all his followers.

When he managed to enter Jay's office, after defeating Merula in a duel, he found several notes from Jay about the second crypt, but the image of a loving and protecting brother was undone by the facts.

When entering the vault, Angel, Tonks, Tulip and Barnaby had to face their fears to break the boggarts' curse.

4st Year: As soon as he got back to Hogwarts, his convictions about Jay were pretty shaken, he didn't exactly know what to believe, but if there was one thing he did know, thanks to his Veela skills, he was able to feel a negative energy emanating from her, which meant he should not trust Rakepick.

While steadfastly refusing to be Rakepick's assistant, he learned of a Dementor's invasion, and that it had affected Penny, he told Tonks that he would resolve this and find out the truth behind said. After Tonks taught him to cast a patronus, he discovered that he took the form of a Bombay cat, like Arthy.

After the incident with the Dementor, the relationship between Penny and Angel strengthened each time more, and this resulted in an invitation to the Celestial Ball.

When he met Torvus, the centaur's revelations made his convictions about his brother melt away before the facts presented. This left him devastated, the image of the heroic brother he had from his childhood had been left in a past that seemed unreal.

While investigating, Professor Flitwick suggested that Angelo try to become the Ravenclaw's new perfect. But he knew that it was only a responsibility to divert his search, but the privileges of a perfect one would only help him in his search.

Once his ticket to the secret crush had caused a real mess at Hogwarts, he tried to solve it with the help of Tonks and Charlie, taking the courage to invite Penny on a date, it was an even bigger mess, but in the end, in the light of stars were all perfect, and Angelo finally realized that he had nothing but himself to be accepted, mainly due to his crush. Penny Haywood.

When he finally managed to return the arrow to Torvus, it was time for Angel, Penny, Hagrid and Torvus to enter the forest vault. From that moment, Angelo began to resolve the curses to clear the Lancaster family name and free Hogwarts from these dangers.

5st Year: After returning to Hogwarts to earn his class schedule with the time of his detention, he joined Bill and Merula, despite many protests, joined the Rakepick apprentice group.

Once again Angelo had a personal reason to break the curse, Beatrice, Penny's sister was one of the victims of the curse, so during this year, he had to manage all his time between classes, study for the owls, train and play Quidditch, and investigate Cursed Vaults.

Upon learning that Jay was directly involved in Duncan's death, Angel believed that the caring brother and that he protected him no longer existed.

Without the motivation to find Jay, he simply continued his investigations to protect his friends and clear the Lancaster's name.

During Valentine's Day, even with Lockhart's interference, Angelo and Penny had a great date and in their moment alone in the greenhouse, Angelo asked Penny for a date and gave her first kiss.

After successfully spreading the chaos and getting the painting with Peeves, Angelo, Charlie, Bill, Merula and Rakepick entering the fourth vault. After discovering the truth about Rakepick and meeting his brother again, he had the revelation that thinking about him was the only thing that kept Jay's sanity. And even though Jay was left in the crypt, he had little hope that Jay would still be the brother he was during his childhood.

6st Year: (Pending year)

7st Year: (Pending year)

Order of the Phoenix / 2nd Wizarding War: As soon as they graduated from Hogwarts, Angelo and Talbott started their Auror training with Auror Kingsley Shacklebolt, thanks to their school friendship, the two Ravenclaws formed a great pair, becoming partners.

After finishing the training, Angelo and Talbott were assigned to small missions until they acquired enough experience for large missions. Until one night in 1995, Angel received devastating news, Kyril Vasiley, one of his best friends, had died, which left him devastated. The next day, he received news of the death of Cedric Diggory, another school friend, that was horrible for the blue-haired boy.

A few days after Lord Voldemort's return, Angelo was visited by Albus Dumbledore, who recruited him into the Order of the Phoenix. From that moment on Angelo became a member working on missions on behalf of Dumbledore.

In the battle of the department of mysteries, Angelo was with Tonks and they immediately went to Harry's aid.

During the time that Pius Thicknesse was minister of magic, Angelo works together with some friends to help Muggle-borns and other wizards unfairly accused of the persecution of Dolores Umbridge

After Harry, Ron and Hermione invaded the ministry, Angelo was forced to flee, after sending Leonor and mr. and mrs. Haywood to live at Jay's home in Brazil, he and Penny moved to a small cottage on a deserted Cornish beach.

Quando souberam que Harry Potter estava em Hogwarts, Angelo e Penny sabiam que Voldemort iria atrás dele, então rapidamente eles foram para Hogsmeade para ir até a escola pelo Hogs Head Inn. During the battle, Angelo dueled against the Death Eaters, especially against Cadmus Mulciber, one of those responsible for the death of his father.

Post-War: After the Battle of Hogwarts, Angelo was one of the Aurors appointed by Minister Shacklebolt to track and arrest Death Eaters and wizards who conspired in favor of the dark lord and bring them to trial.

Angelo was one of the Aurors responsible for removing the dementors from Azkaban. And he was tasked by the minister to oversee Harry and Ron's Auror training.

He worked as an auror until 2011, after retiring as an auror, He worked on the Accidental Magic Reversal Squad for a year. Until he received an invitation from Professor McGonagall to replace Filius Flitwick as a charms professor at Hogwarts in 2013.

Old Age & Death: Angelo worked as a teacher at Hogwarts for several years, until he turned 89. Then he said he and Penny lived in a house in Hogsmeade until Angel turned 103, when he died of old age.

Personality

Logical: Angelo always likes to make his decisions based on logic, it is extremely rare that he makes a decision based on emotion.

Empathic: Thanks to his Veela skills, he is able to feel the emotions of others, so he always tries to make people feel better, he cannot see his sad friends, he always tries to make his friends feel better.

Shy: Angelo due to his complicated childhood, he is a very shy boy, not being able to approach new people easily, always preferring to stay in his comfort zone. But he makes an effort when he really wants to meet someone.

Intelligent: Thanks to his photographic memory, Angelo is very intelligent, and he uses that intelligence to help his friends with their homework, mainly in History of Magic, and sometimes he doesn't mind writing essays for them.

Strategist: Due to his timid personality, many people the underestimated and don't believe they can sell him in a duel, but while his opponents try to beat him by force, he studies his opponent and waits for the right time to attack.

Affectionate: After he feels comfortable with a person, Angelo is not ashamed of being affectionate with him, hugging and caressing any friend he needs.

Misc:

The Lancaster is a purebred family, but it stopped caring about the status of purity in the late 19th century, with the family patriarch, Leonidas Lancaster.

Angelo is a descendant of two pure-blood families, the Lancaster and the Trindade, family of his paternal grandmother, Damares Trindade, a Brazilian pure-brood family, but he was disinherited when they learned that his father had married a Veela, and had half-Veela children.

The Stellair family, is a family well known among the French Veela.

Angelo developed a passion for ice and snow magic after almost drowning in a frozen lake.

He has visited the Veela sanctuary in the interior of France several times, where he can assume his Veela form while there, but wizards can only enter the sanctuary with a permit from the French Ministry of Magic.

His little habit of reading while walking comes from when he learned to read, at the age of 4, he used to read the Tales of Beedle the Bard.

And Angel likes to assume her animagus form and stay in the lap of her closest friends, receiving ear strokes, mainly from Kyril, Candy, Elaiza, Roger and Jason.

When he needs to be alone to think or just cry, he can be found sitting under the beech on the shores of the black lake, but when he is there he doesn't like to see anyone.

#angelo lancaster #hogwarts mystery #hphm #hphm mc #harry potter hogwarts mystery #angelo profile #lancaster family #trindade family #Stellair family #candy art #kyril art

[sweeethinny]

Reputation - Don’t Blame Me (Chapter 3)

okay, I know the third track on the album is '' I Did Something Bad '', but, I would have to write something sad about DH or the Battle, and I'm already sad because my phone broke and anxious because today it opens the inscriptions for my entrance exam, so please have mercy and let's pretend this is the third track, and enjoy this cute and slightly naughty chapter. thanks, and sorry for any mistake

AO3

-------------

Don't blame me, love made me crazy If it doesn't, you ain't doing it right

Ginny was feeling jealous, which was a stupid thing to feel.

You see that she had been warned, and had seen, about all this persecution on top of Harry, and had already said a few times about how she was not intimidated by the shit Rita was writing, definitely, but when that cow does a ''Search The Chosen One, for The Chosen One'' you can't help but curse her.

Harry's picture had been taken in the middle of his training, while he was all sweaty and shirtless, making bars focused on the action, with his hair all messed up and his eyes determined, each time he forces himself up and down, taking the his chest close to the iron bar, his biceps appeared in all his glory, and his abdomen was spotted too. Even that V-line that gave directly to what was rightfully hers! - since when he asked her to date, at least.

Okay, they haven't taken over the world, but who cared? They thought that no one would gossip much about Potter and his romance with a Weasley .. Of course, they didn't expect that!

'Harry Potter, The Chosen One, is single and up to date!

As you can see (page 10), Harry Potter has been working out like never before, devoting himself entirely to his Auror training, seeming to want to be up to date for any girl - or boy, who knows - who is ready to warm up his lonely nights. Now that he left Hogwarts and the whole war is over, who could say that our darling Chosen One would be so willing to stay in shape? It's almost like he are doing this to someone, but the Daily Prophet has already done his research, and girls - or boys - rest easy, there's no one in our wizard's life- '

"Hey!" She growled irritably, trying to pull that newspaper out again, ready to get a reason to send a badly created letter to that witch.

''No, you're going crazy'' Hermione sat on top of the paper, in front of her at the coffee table and looking a little bit angry too

'' Is she looking for some opportunist to warm up my boyfriend's cold nights ?! How can I not be crazy about this? Would you be calm if you were Ron on this page? Looking like a prostitute? ''

Lord, save me, my drug is my baby I'll be using for the rest of my life

’'Of course not. But I doubt Harry knows that, he wouldn't let any of that happen if he did.'' Her chest burned, imagining all the most beautiful girls sending letters to him, sending pictures, inviting him to dinner. Ginny was not insecure most of the time, but looking at herself, in a small and slightly dull body, and imagining a tall older woman with evolved breasts was torture.

''I hate that woman ... Didn't you fix her?'' She almost snarled, thinking of all the scenarios in which Harry betrayed her. It was unfair to think that, he would never do any of those things, but it was impossible not to think. If that had come a week ago, she would have been calm, but when she hasn't received a letter from him in eight days and is close to menstruating, Ginny feels that maybe she is bursting with hormones.

''She's not lying, technically, nobody knows about you.'' That made things worse. Would they have to shout to the seven winds they were dating for Rita not to turn him into a product?

The girl could have said something about it, but then she felt vulnerable in a way that she hadn't allowed herself since she was eleven, trying not to pollute her mind with theories that explained it; 'Harry didn't want to be seen with her.' 'Harry preferred other girls' 'Karma was finally working and she would get back the hearts she had broken'

I've been breaking hearts a long time And toying with them older guys Just playthings for me to use

As if it could read her mind, the brown owl entered the Hall, still half empty, too early for it to be flying, stopping a little irritated in front of it while waiting to be released. Ginny took the parchment off her leg and let it fly to the owlery as it looked like.

'I'll be investigating a situation at Hogwarts at nine o'clock in the History room. They said something about someone being in trouble. Just warning you :)

With love, Harry '

''What did he send?'' Hermione was still sitting on top of her Prophet, but she snuck as if she wanted to read, so curious that it looked like Ron

''Nothing, just talking about being fine'' Lied, because the friend would not love the idea of ​​Potter making excuses while she should be studying - and he too - to date in the castle with her.

She had loved him, for a long time, and ever since they were together again, Ginny had been feeling really happy, smiling at every clandestine conversation in Flu, or in the mirror they shared, even in those little moments when he appeared with a false call to be taken care of, just to grab it in an empty room. But it was disappointing to think of more beautiful girls paying attention.

The redhead hated that damn Rita, made her think of that shit about her boy.

Something happened for the first timeIn the darkest little paradise Shaking, pacing, I just need you

[...]

When it was ten minutes to nine, and Ginny had already cursed (mentally) some people who insisted on commenting on Harry's body and how they wanted to be able to send his letter to the Prophet - apparently, the best letter would compete for the chance to go out with '' The Chosen One '', which she found very stupid, since Potter was so much more than that fucking title - the girl got tired of walking back and forth in the common room, pretending to study and review Transfiguration, and in a moment Hermione's distraction, she ran away.

Sneaking up to the correct floor, listening intently not to be caught by Filch or anyone else, Ginny managed to get into the room, looking twice into the hall before entering, the pitch formed from the closed windows and the extinguished candles consuming her.

'' You arrived early '' Of course, her stupid boyfriend was already there, hiding somewhere in the cloak, as if he were a murderer.

'' I thought I'd hurry up a few moments '' The candles around her were lit, while the door seemed to lock behind her, and she saw him after almost two months - live, at least. Harry had really stopped being that slender teenager, now his broad shoulders had gained strong, turned arms, and his dark blue shirt was tight around his chest. She could see a ripple or other in the abdomen, the narrow hips holding the black pants, while his thighs also appeared slightly. It was nothing exaggerated, but she understood a little, that obsession of the Prophet. Besides, now he wore a beard - which Ginny always supported - and as much as his hair was still that rebellious mess, he was lower on the sides after the cut Molly had made, making him look less like a frightened teenager, and more like a man.

'' Hello '' Harry smiled, as she approached the teacher's desk and leaned there, crossing her legs and watching him approach, smiling from ear to ear '' I missed you '' He held her face between the hands, giving a loving and calm kiss, nothing much, while the redhead melted in a puddle

'' If Hermione realizes that I'm gone-- ''

'' --Ron is also here '' Harry lowered his hands to her waist, pulling her closer, while looking into her eyes, the emerald green looking much more beautiful live ''I hope I'm not disturbing anything '' Ginny she shrugged, wrapping her arms around his neck, feeling pushed to sit on the edge of the table, which she did promptly

''I already said. I can waste half an hour with you ''

For you, I would cross the line I would waste my time

'' How are we with suitors? Too many letters? '' She let go, letting sarcasm drip into the sentence, trying hard not to look too crazy

'' Some, but I've made my choice. '' His strong, callused hands tightened on her skin, slowly pulling her shirt out of the skirt. And Ginny's chest widened, her heart beating fast and that jealousy burning inside her stomach like erupting lava.

"Hm. And who's the lucky one? '' She was happy with the effort she had made not to roll her eyes at the thought of a second Fleur - much more irritating and beautiful - beside him

'' You Gin '' Harry commented as if he said the sky is blue '' The last time I checked, I was still your boyfriend'' The man smiled a little hesitantly, raising an eyebrow and seeming to analyze it in the best way Auror possible ''Did you really think I would prefer someone else? '' She shrugged, feeling too unsure to speak. It was silly, wasn't it? There was Harry, her Harry.

''Just hormones '' Blame it on her cycle ''And the fact that you're gone for a week. I don’t know, it doesn’t matter” But that didn’t take his attention away, in fact, it only got worse

''Ginny .. I'm with you, and no matter what the fuck that rat writes, the only person who will '' take advantage of my body '' 'He rolled his eyes ''It's the lady here'' His finger lifted her chin, forcing her to look at him

'' I know, I don't know why to think about it '' Lied, pulling him closer and locking him between her legs ''How much time do we have? ''

'' Not much, unfortunately'' His hands went back to work on her waist, going up inside the shirt and touching her warm skin, causing goosebumps that made her crazy, just like anything else he did ''Sorry for the disappearance, we had some training problems'' He shrugged ''Someone fought with someone for making a comment about his girlfriend, I don't know'' Ginny laughed, holding her boyfriend's face in her hands and leaving her insecurities aside, happy that he was there

''You're crazy'' Harry kissed the tip of her nose, smiling affectionately

''They said something like that, along with, 'You lost your mind, Potter!' Not that I care, anyway. ''

I would lose my mind They say: She's gone too far this time

'' You look hot in that outfit .. I had some wet dreams about it, in my sixth year '' Harry kissed her cheek, down her jaw and disappearing into her neck, making her throw her head back and grunt a little while she carried her breasts forward, almost fainting at the touch.

Finally the buttons on the shirt were opened, leaving her creamy, freckled skin on display, and the purple bras she had bought just for a moment like this.

"Did you like it?" She bit the man's soft skin, moaning when the hand went down to her thigh and squeezed there, under her skirt and very close to her panties

''Damn. That memory will be my company on lonely nights.'' The girl laughed, lifting her chin and pulling him closer

'' I'm glad I'm still moving your head '' Harry rolled his eyes

'' You always move Gin, and please don't stop. '' The two of them kissed fervently this time. Her hand hunted the hem of that blue blouse, moving it out of the way quickly, being able to explore the new undulations of his body. It didn't take long before she had her skirts crammed around her waist and no bra and her shirt, moaning as she felt Harry's lips graze her skin, her hormones exploding in ecstasy with that attention, making her clit ache with lust.

'' Oh Harry .. oh '' She lost her strength when a hand touched her wet panties, caressing them lightly, in the way he knew was making her delirious.

A reminder that he still knew her tastes, her secrets, that he was still her

My name is whatever you decide And I'm just gonna call you mine

'' I dreamed of it every day, '' he whispered into her warm skin, pushing the soft fabric aside and opening it, as if looking for the way home on a well-known map. Ginny saw stars behind her eyelids when she finally got the attention she wanted, throwing her head back as she arched and straddled her boyfriend's hand, calling out his name as if it were her last prayer. "Fuck, Gin"

'' That's the idea '' Managed to gather enough strength to say, the lust of the forbidden to hit her hard

His fingers disappeared inside her, which for Harry was the most beautiful sight after his dick did that, and he couldn't stop the moan from coming out of his mouth, while kneeling in front of the table and rolling up the thighs of that libertine redhead, bringing her closer to the edge and smiling like a predator when he saw her so close, hot, wet, perfect.

'' OHMERLIM '' Ginny screamed as soon as she felt her hot lips around her most sensitive spot, trembling with the erupting heat that rose up her belly and hit her face, pressing her fingers into the wood for fear of collapsing. Harry's beard scraped deliciously on it, his fingers still doing a delicious job massaging that particular spot, and his lips being wonderful as always. It was surprising that she didn't come right away.

She loved him, Merlin help her, because Ginny was hopelessly in love with that man.

I'm insane, but I'm your baby Echoes of your name inside my mind

Harry smiled and moaned every time her strong thighs tightened, the fabric of her skirt kind of hiding him there, and it was like living an eternal teenage dream, with Ginny in her uniform moaning his name as he hid in her midst . When the redhead arched her back to the max, screaming and squeezing him as if she wanted to kill him right there, Potter almost came along, watching her wet his fingers and hand, running like a beautiful waterfall, making him feel triumphant for the feat.

He stood up, all pompous, sucking his fingers like he was one of HoneyDukes best sweets

"Hm .. even better than Molasses Pie" "He smiled devilishly, raising an eyebrow and winking cheeky at her" "Looks like someone missed me"

'' It's just because I have a high libido '' She shrugged, biting a smile and trying to look disinterested

'' I'm sure you did, Gin '' And he approached, holding his hands beside her and looking at her still hungry

'' Do you really like these clothes? '' Joked, holding the question of whether it was the clothes on her, or any other would do, too.

'' I like it, you look absurd wearing a skirt '' One arm wrapped around her waist, pulling her close, making his erection touch her '' You look beautiful in everything, actually, but something perverse in me always liked you like that ''

'' It's because it's forbidden '' His eyes got darker in those lights, shining with lust '' Inside the school, with a teacher nearby ... those things '' Harry nodded, biting her chin before speaking;

'' It may be, but only if you exist, it drives me crazy '' Ginny laughed, blushing at that declaration like a passionate fool, pulling his face so that the two looked at each other, and blaming her need for it

'' You leave me too. Just today, I wanted to hex some three people who wanted to send you letters with photos to get The Chosen One '' She revealed, perhaps because with Harry, these little secrets seemed too silly to be kept, perhaps because she just wanted to hear the confirmation that there was some Chosen, even if she is an idiot, would be her.

'' Well, they would all be heavily ignored '' His thumb caressed her creamy, freckled cheek, his green eyes staring at her as if unraveling all her secrets ''In case it's not clear yet, I'm kind of in love with you, to the point of getting into fights when someone talks shit about you, or faking a call by McGonagall, just to see you ... just to be clear ''

Halo, hiding my obsession I once was poison ivy, but now I'm your daisy

'' It's just shit that went through my head. Rita should blow herself up '' Ginny felt too naked then, admitting her jealousy and being irrational, looking sideways as if looking for something to face

'' Should'' They were both silent ''Tucker commented on you romantic background and I attacked him so hard, I think his lineage is lost '' She managed to laugh a little, still a little shy and disconcerted, but at least looking on your face ''I don't want to hear someone say something about you and what you've done in the past. And if it's worth talking about, he definitely had a lot more than three boyfriends in his life, so I think it was a valid fight, even though some don't seem to agree.'' He also smiled, looking back at her as if he expected her confession. Harry would never pressure her to do anything, especially talking, no matter how hard he was and she was half naked in front of him. Ginny wanted to kiss him even more

'' Thank you, but I didn't have to defend myself ''

'' I know, but I wanted to '' shrugged '’I would do anything for you, Gin ''

'' Even burn pictures of tall, prettier women than Fleur?’' Harry laughed, giving his lips a long peck on her lips

'' I don't even have to think twice ... now, if you want to send me a picture '' Ginny tapped his shoulder, laughing and feeling relieved, as if she could breathe in peace

''As long as you don't run away anymore...'' He denied, kissing her tenderly, as if they had all the time in the world and it wasn't in a classroom that the two were about to have sex

"I would never survive without you"

And, baby, for you, I would fall from grace Just to touch your face If you walk away I'd beg you on my knees to stay 

And then they kissed again, not seeming able to talk, especially when she opened his fly and held his hard cock, giving him the affection he deserved, while she heard him moan inside her mouth, seeming to be lost in the senses.

'' I need you, '' Harry whimpered, pulling her close again, dropping his pants and underwear as Ginny spread her legs wider, waiting for that glorious moment that would make her thank him for being alive.

The two of them moaned silently with every inch of Harry entering, she contracted with each little thrust just to see him throw his head and lock his teeth groaning, getting deeper and deeper until his pelvis touched.

It was majestic. The best moment.

'' My fingers don't get to the feet of this, '' She moaned, kissing his boyfriend so hard that they barely knew how not to get hurt. She sucked on his tongue and bit his bottom lip when thrust as formalized, at first slow, as if it were a preview of what was to come next

I get so high (oh) Every time you're, every time you're loving me You're loving me Trip of my life (oh) Every time you're, every time you're touching me

'' More '' Ginny sharpened her nails on her boyfriend's shoulders, losing consciousness whenever he rolled his hips and touched her in the right place, one hand still working in her midst, making her moan louder and louder

''Bloody hell, woman '' He increased the pace, pounding hard, taking them into that abyss where they both loved to be, kissing every part of her that he could find free; her creamy neck, her mouth, her cheeks, her breasts, any part was worth it.

They groaned together, trying to hold on to the rest of their strength to keep from giving in, trying their best to make it last a few more seconds, as if spending a few more months away was as terrifying as being sentenced to go to Askaban.

'' I don't ... ohh Harry, I need to ... '' Ginny barely knew how to finish her sentences

'' Come Gin, come for me '' He didn't need to speak twice, feeling that familiar tightness around him as the redhead seemed to want to drain him entirely, shouting his name and looking him in the eye as she broke up. Which made him go too, hitting her even harder as he came hard, grunting and clasping his hands on her ass, as if to keep her from moving away.

Ginny felt her chest ache with the sea of ​​those feelings, thinking that there was, and never was, anyone who could do it as well as that man.

'' I love you '' he whispered, foreheads glued and eyes heavy, chest rising and falling hard

'' Me too '' She smiled, so beautiful he could come again '' How much time do we have? '' Looking at the watch on his wrist, he assessed the time he had made with Ron

''Half an hour''

"Time for one more, don't you think?" Harry felt hot, laughing at that hell beast he had beside him. Not that he ever complained. For her, he would easily die.

"Give me five minutes and I'm all yours"

'' You're getting better '' The brown eyes shone dark with desire

'' Training has helped me ... I have to spend that energy somewhere '' Ginny raised her eyebrow, looking at him a little menacingly

'' Keep spending it at the gym, thank you very much '' He laughed, amused by that jealousy, because for him, no woman made his heart beat so fast and his balls hurt as much as that angry, hard redhead in the fall. No, not even the most beautiful of Veela would make him so happy.

And as if confirming the thoughts that already came round, Harry knew that he wanted her for the rest of their lives.

I get so high (oh) Every time you're, every time you're loving me You're loving me Oh, Lord, save me, my drug is my baby I'll be using for the rest of my life

#hinny #hinny smut #smut #hinny fluff #hp #harry x ginny #harry potter #ginny weasley #my fic #read-a-hinny-fic

[hlcreators]

AUTHOR REC:  star_k / @perfectdagger​

Be sure to show some love and leave kudos and a comment! 

And let it kill you (19k)

"Love is either a human construct or it can be real. But either it is real, or you make it so."

Louis doesn't believe in fate, but rather in choice. There's nothing romantic about being stripped out of his own.

Find what you love (26k)

“My Dear,

Find what you love and let it kill you. Let it drain you of your all. Let it cling onto your back and weigh you down into eventual nothingness. Let it kill you and let it devour your remains. For all things will kill you, both slowly and fastly, but it's much better to be killed by a lover."

Or, Harry learns 16 years is a lifetime to be in love with someone else.

Santa Claus is from Turkey (11k)

Saint Nicholas was born in Patara, making Santa Claus actually from Turkey.

This bit of information has nothing to do with this fic, but somehow manages to tell you everything that matters about it: it's Christmas time and there's a turkey and a lot of mishappenings.

It also makes absolute no sense at all, but just roll with it.

a rose surrounded by thorns (3.3k)

There were nine levels of hell in Dante’s vision. Distantly, Louis wondered in which one you’d go for getting off on rimming the demon who ate your soul.

Nice day for a pizza wedding (12k)

There’s a layer of total surrealness to have your own name denied by a stranger, while said stranger has your cock in their hands.

Harry was glad he was in the sort of situation he knew exactly how that felt.

Or, a story about how Harry, 18 year old Tumblr and photography enthusiast, ended up enjoying his birthday with the pizza boy, in a night filled with pizza, his faithful camera and the doubt of how to correct someone you were flirting with that he got Harry's name wrong.

He only had Niall to blame.

Tell The World We Finally Got It Right (56k)

Louis snorted. “Nice try but I have to work, you sneaky little bastard.” Louis kissed Harry quickly with the intention of it being the last time as he also squeezed their hands together before letting go. “Seriously, go. I…” Louis hesitated a second, not really sure what to say as his final goodbye to Harry. “I’ll be waiting for you.” He settle on that, because that was a promise he knew he would be holding on to.

“Can’t wait. I love you,” Harry said, just as he had said that to Louis over the weekend many times. He finally let go of him and kissed Louis on the cheek, smiling brightly at him before he opened the door and got out of the car.

Louis would also hold onto those three words until the weekend came along.

Part 4 of the Mistletoes & Wrackspurts series, or the year when Louis and Harry finally decided to give themselves a try, (re)falling in love and making memories for a life time.

Harry’s Journal to self-discovery (24k)

Moving away from home is always difficult, especially when you come from a small city like Holmes Chapel and chooses to study English in London.

It proves to be even more difficult to Harry when she doesn’t feel like she fits anywhere but sitting on a park bench, watching The Girl move around like she’s the most fascinating being on the planet.

And to Harry, she kind of is. Too bad she doesn’t know why (yet).

High-five of your love (12k)

Reason #24: Because you forgot to buy a birthday present

Or, the fic where Louis is a mess of a woman, who's so busy looking for a job to help pay rent she manages to forget her almost-wife's birthday present.

She makes do in the end, anyway. She always does.

supposedly, this is steph's gift (from last year lmao) (4.6k)

this is the supernatural au nobody asked for. basically we headcanon HARD that louis is a fox so i started to write this.

so: louis is a fox familiar. harry is a witch. louis is traveling around the country trying to look for a witch good enough to bond with, harry is the witch dumb enough to help niall on his cases. they fall in love, even if witch/familiar relationships are frowned upon.

also liam is a hunter of generations and niall is the sheriff (not really) who shouldn't be meddling with witchcraft but he does anyway.

Pride and Prejudice AU that never was (7k)

Basically the p&p no one asked for and that i got too lazy to finish. or as i like to call it "louizzie hates harrcy, but they hate bang a lot anyway".

You can’t blame gravity (for falling in love) (28k)

“You know,” she’d always start, “I never understood why these chick flicks are so addictive.” She’d give a small laugh into her cup, hot steam warming her face, the living room in their hometown house lit only by the television, both of them cozy under blankets while the girls slept in their bedrooms. “You’re never, you know, that smooth while talking to the one you really want. When you like the person you’re dating you’re actually quite a mess, flustered and clumsy all around. You can’t control it.”

Or five times Marcel fell, and one time Louis did it (plus an extra one).

If You Ever Wanna Be In Love (119k)

“Finally! I mean, hi again… surprise?” Lottie had almost an innocent expression, but Louis wouldn’t be fooled by that.

Harry Styles was looking at him, nervously biting his lip, waving long fingers with different rings on them at him. “Hi?”

It had been more than three years since they last saw each other and there was Harry Styles at his fucking door again. Louis was fucked.

Part 3 of the Mistletoes & Wrackspurts series, or the one when a Holiday season together might be just what a wizard and a muggle with a too complicated past between them need to find each other again.

Butterflies (3k)

”Just a touch on the shoulder I’m passing out Wish I could of told her I’m freaking out For I have been poisoned by butterflies I have been stared blankly by those eyes What don’t kill only makes us stronger, well I guess I’m stronger now Roll with whatever flows or comes my way I always say”

(Butterflies - Hudson Taylor)

Love Is On The Radio (35k)

“So Louis, who’s the lucky person that will not only get to see Arsenal and Manchester United facing each other, but will also possibly become your girlfriend… or boyfriend? I mean, that’s a good catch, to ask someone out like this on the radio. It will be hard to say no after this.”

“It’s, hm, his name is…” Oh boy, Harry was about to pass out, he couldn’t bear to hear what Louis would say. Susie was looking at him, worried eyes watching him from the till as she noticed that Harry had simply abandoned his cupcake duties. “Harry. Harry Styles.”

To win a pair of tickets to watch Manchester United playing, Louis may have possibly lied to Nick Grimshaw on the BBC Radio 1 Breakfast Show, asking Harry, his best friend, to be his boyfriend. Problem is - Harry has always been in love with Louis and so, this Valentine’s he’s gonna see his dreams come true, with a tiny bit of a twist, in order to watch the football team they have loved together since they were kids.

Sick of Losing Soulmates (I Like You) (7.6k)

Time and hearts will wear us thin So which path will you take, ‘cause we both know a break Does exactly what it says on the tin

‘Cause I’m sick of losing soulmates, so where do we begin I can finally see, you’re as fucked up as me So how do we win?

//

I hope I’m not stuck on your waiting list Because I dream of you in colors that don’t exist And I think it’s high time for you to know I like you I like you I like you And I hope you like me too

Part 2 of the Mistletoes & Wrackspurts series, or the interlude in which 3 years apart seems to be nothing and too much at the same time.

Every Little Thing He Does Is Magic (92k)

There were only a few things Louis didn’t believe in. You could include in that list the Easter bunny, the tooth fairy, and also Father Christmas. Having four little sisters, though, he had to pretend that all of them were real for the sake of keeping their imagination alive.

Surprisingly, there was one thing, that not until his oldest little sister turned 11 did Louis believe in and did he think would actually be real: magic.

Louis’ sister was a witch and everything he knew would never be the same again.

Part 1 of the Mistletoes & Wrackspurts series, or the Hogwarts AU where Louis is a muggle, Lottie finds out she is a witch and Harry is Lottie’s wizard friend from Hogwarts, with a lot of magic, letters, owl cuddles and crushes on boys from different worlds.

#writer appreciation week #1dsource #hljournal #fics #author rec