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otrtbs · 9 months

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ART HEIST, BABY OUTTAKES (From The Vault)

SUMMARY: Two scrapped scenes from Art Heist, Baby! that didn't make the cut. Done in celebration of the one year anniversary of Art Heist, Baby! being complete! (Where did all the time go?)

WORD COUNT: 2k

(okay, for clarity, the first scene takes place sometime between chapter 15 and chapter 16 of Art Heist, Baby! and the second scene takes place during chapter 37 of Art Heist, Baby! One Regulus and one James POV <3)

“Oof.”

Regulus can’t help the smile that flashes across his face, there and then gone, at James’ little noise of surprise. James doesn’t have time to say anything else before Regulus’ mouth is on his, kissing him in fervent, electric delight that only secrecy could inspire.

Regulus always loves this best, pulling James into some room on the third floor after he dismisses the rest of the class. His hands running over the soft fabric of James’ shirt or the smooth expanse of his torso underneath as he hears Mary and Lily tear through the halls just beyond the closed door laughing, or Peter humming to himself softly as he makes his way down the stairs. All of them completely unaware that just behind the door they unknowingly walked past, Regulus was snogging James Potter's face off and attempting to shove his hands down his trousers. It’s times like these when Regulus curses himself for making all his stupid rules about the heist. He’d much rather be able to drag James through the hallways of this house and into his bedroom without a care in the world of who they happened to pass by.

“If you could be anything in the world, what would you want to be?” James gasps, his head falling back against the wall Regulus has him pressed up against. “But you can’t say what you are now, you have to pick something different.”

His cheeks are flushed and he’s halfway to looking debauched already. Just how Regulus likes him.

“Because, personally, I think I would want to be a dragon or something,” James continues once it’s clear Regulus has no intention of answering. “A red dragon that could breathe fire and fly. That would be cool. Oh, or I would be a Renaissance jouster. I could ride up on my horse and ask you for your favour in front of the whole kingdom. That would be fun.” A beat of silence. “What about you?”

Regulus lets out a derisive noise as he detaches his lips from James’ neck. “Seriously?”

“You could be anything. Not just career-wise. But you could be a rock in a stream or a cloud or a microwave.”

“James,” Regulus isn’t proud of the way he almost whines at this. They have very few minutes before lunch will be ready and then they’ll be called downstairs.

“Just humour me for a minute, Regulus,” James grins as Regulus pulls away, shushing him slightly in case someone walks by and hears them. “Please,” he whispers, still smiling radiantly.

This wasn’t a new thing for James. He was always asking Regulus all sorts of questions. When he said he wanted to know any and everything about Regulus, he meant it. And of course, because James was James, Regulus would always indulge him.

“Okay, give me a moment to think about it,” Regulus sighed, furrowing his brows. “And I can’t just pick to be who I am now and move on with it?”

“Nope,” James shook his head, placing his hands behind his back as leaned against the door. “That’s against the rules.”

It was a silly question, but Regulus still found himself thinking about it thoughtfully. If he could be anything, what would he want to be?

Strangely, his mind wandered to Sirius.

Sirius, who was so close but still seemed so far away. Sirius, who would throw himself in front of Walburga and Orion’s rage to protect Regulus every time, even when Regulus didn’t deserve it. Sirius who would knock on Regulus’ door in the middle of the night just to make sure that he was okay, who asked him what he was learning in school when his parents couldn’t be bothered, who made sure Regulus kept warm in the winter, who always remembered his birthday even when nobody else did. And how did Regulus repay him? He chose to stay with his parents instead of leaving with Sirius, even after all of that, and now Sirius hates him, and probably always would.

If he could be anything in the world, he supposes he’d want to be a good brother, or, at least a better one than he was in this life. Or maybe he’d want to be brave. Brave like Sirius. Brave like James. And maybe that bravery would help him to be a better brother.

He frowned at the sinking feeling in his chest. He wasn’t sure he liked this game anymore.

Quickly, he looked at James who was eagerly awaiting his answer with a smile on his face.

James who wanted to be a fucking dragon or a jousting knight wanted this game to be fun. Something light.

“Well, I guess I’d be the Prince of the kingdom giving you my favour in front of everyone before your big joust,” he says after a moment, giving a small smile as something in James’ face softens.

“You’d want that?” He asks, looking at Regulus through his glasses that were still lopsided from Regulus’ previous fierce snogging.

Regulus bit his bottom lip and shrugged. Going where James went didn’t seem like such a bad idea. If James would let him, if James would want him to. Maybe some of his bravery would rub off on him somehow. “Sure, why not?”

James’ hand shakes as he reaches for the pink sticky note. He can’t bring himself to feel embarrassed by it, even though Evan and Barty are standing right behind him, ready with the painting and a ruler and a tape measurer and everything else you could possibly need to ensure that a painting is perfectly centred and straight on a wall.

For a minute he just stares at it, hand outstretched and trembling, taking in Regulus’ curly handwriting. James wonders if Regulus put a lot of thought into this sticky note. If he hovered the pen over the sheet of paper and thought long and hard about what painting he wanted. If Regulus went through every room in their house envisioning the perfect place to hang this painting, trying to place the pink sticky note above the spot where he wanted their bed to be, or in the hallway across from the kitchen, or upstairs. Taking it down and re-sticking it to different places until he found the perfect one. He wonders if Regulus had gone over every painstaking detail in his mind just as James had done over these last two years, or if he had just known.

It’s silly, hesitating over a sticky note like this. It had fallen down from its spot on the wall numerous times over the weeks and months that it had been there. So why was it so hard to take it down now? It’s what Regulus wanted, and James never had any issue with the other sticky notes. He buzzed around the house, taking each sticky note down with him as he went about unpacking Regulus' books and planting a garden and filling up the closet. He didn’t throw any of the notes out either, though. Instead, he kept them in a small box at the back of his closet for safekeeping. That’s exactly where this sticky note would go if he could just bring himself to take it down.

Barty lets out a little sigh from behind him and James turns around just in time to see Evan elbow him harshly in the ribs and the spell is broken.

With trembling fingers James pluckes the sticky note off the wall, a little bit of paint coming up with the reinforcement tape he had added to ensure the paper stopped falling down, and held it to his chest tightly. Quietly, without looking away from the spot where the sticky note had been he whispered to Barty and Evan, “Alright, let’s put it up.”

That night James dreams constantly.

He dreams of the waves crashing against the shore of his favourite beach with reckless abandon and he dreams of car chases and gilded frames and the smell of turpentine, but most importantly, he dreams of Regulus.

“It’ll be sunny and warm there. I love the sunlight you know,” Regulus murmurs sleepily.

They’re in the house in New Hampshire together and Regulus is starting his favourite activity of only opening up in the dark, when he doesn’t have to see or be seen, but James doesn’t mind.

“Hmm?” he hums, pulling him closer. It’s late, and James guesses that he only has a couple of hours before he has to be up learning about the heist from one of Regulus' many classes.

“In Brazil. The warmth, the light. I don’t know, I feel like the rays will hit my chest and dislodge all the dark sludge from my heart, and for a moment I can just sit there and be golden and bright. It’s foolish,” Regulus sighs and James can hear his frown, even in the dark. Always like the tides, pushing in and pulling back.

“I don’t think so,” he responds quickly. “I think it’s nice.” He attempts to hold Regulus tighter, to warm him up somehow because he sounds a little too sad tonight for James’ liking and he’s starting to feel strangely cold in his arms. “But for the record, I’ve always thought you were pretty fucking bright and brilliant, Regulus.”

Regulus has a habit of seeing himself as something dark and stormy. Something turbulent and destructive, but James knows better. James knows the truth.

Regulus hums lightly, something soft and sweet. “I know, James. It’s a nice thought.”

James wants to say something else, he wants to run his fingers through Regulus’ hair and kiss his forehead and convince him of his warmth, but before he gets the chance to, he wakes up.

For a long while, James just lays there, flat on his back, unmoving in the aftermath. He listens to the beat of his heart and his shallow breathing. It had been several weeks since James had dreamed of Regulus like this.

He used to hate it. He used to find the reminder of Regulus’ absence unbearable when he opened his eyes, but these days he doesn’t mind it.

When he dreams of Regulus now, it makes it missing him a little bit better. He always misses Regulus, but this way it feels like James just got to see him. It makes it seem as if the last time James got to see Regulus was just the day before instead of two years ago.

“Oh, Regulus? Yeah, I just saw him last night.”

“I held him in my arms only yesterday.”

Sometimes it’s a comforting thought to have.

“You would love Brazil, Reg,” James whispers in the dark to his ceiling. Alone in his empty bedroom. “I hope it’s sunny and bright wherever you are. I hope you're not cold.”

Barty and Evan stick around for a little while after the painting is put up. They field several calls of anger and astonishment from Sirius both from their phones and from James’ phone. They attempt to convince James to come back to Vegas with them for the thousandth time, but he declines. It’ll be good for him to sit in the house for a while, now that it’s finally finished.

It feels like an end in so many ways, but not in the mournful way James expected it to. It felt as complete as it possibly could be without Regulus. Always there, like a chip in his favourite mug. Not shattered, still usable, but always with a quick sting of pain if you nicked your lip on the chipped rim. Still, it was the only mug James would ever want to drink out of.

He looks forward to discovering what new beginning this end will bring about for him. He can only hope that it's a nice one.

While he doesn't take Barty and Evan up on their offer to come back to Vegas with them, he does take them to the airport. He walks them as far as they will let him go and waves goodbye until they are out of sight and begins the journey back to his little house.

He thinks about the simple things. Things he needs to buy from the store– more lemons, some cleaner, cinnamon. He makes a note to call Marlene to fill her in on his recent adventures, and reminds himself that it’s about time to check the financial accounts to ensure everything was still running smoothly.

He lets these thoughts fill his mind all the way until he gets home, and when he opens the door to his house, to their house, he sees the painting. A ship sailing bravely through the blue ocean, cutting through the waves into the unknown expanses beyond. He smiles to himself as he sees it lit up in a brilliant warm glow. The rays of the sun kiss it gently and fill it with radiance. Then, ever so softly, James closes the door behind him.

#nat writes #art heist baby!#happy one year to art heist!!!#so much love in my heart for this story and these characters <33 #can't believe a year ago i was uprooting my life to move across the ocean and finishing my first ever story!!! and now i'm here #surreal a bit #okay love youse <3 im sappy

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diana-bookfairchild · 8 months

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@ladiesofhpfest Sisters Before Misters, Daughters and Female Friendship

Ginny had often wished for a sister as a child.

She had an endless number of brothers, some of whom she could never recall permanently living at home. Bill and Charlie had been at Hogwarts before she had even been able to make proper memories. All she remembered of that time was a stark longing to follow them.

But there were the boys and then there was Ginny. The first Weasley daughter born in seven generations, according to Grandmother.

She didn’t particularly care for the symbolism or the arithmantic significance. All that meant to her was that she was alone in so many ways.

Alone in wanting to play with dolls. Alone in being forced into dresses by Mum (though she badgered Ron into switching clothes with her more often than not). Alone in wanting to stage her wedding to Harry Potter. Alone in wanting to fly but being forbidden to. Alone in getting new clothes (other than Bill, obviously). Alone in being made to learn cooking and kitting. Alone in being yelled at for cutting her hair rather than growing it. Alone in being scolded when she got dirt on her clothes. Alone in being coddled. Alone in having to combat expectations of being a housewife. Alone in wanting to scream that she was more than this.

(Maybe not as alone in the last one as she'd thought.)

It wasn’t, of course, that her parents loved her less. In fact, they sometimes seemed to love her more, probably inspiring Ron’s inferiority complex. But that love went from reassuring to smothering to suffocating a lot of the time, and she had no idea how to tell her mother that she wasn’t the ideal daughter she wanted.

It was at times like those especially when she longed for a sister. Someone who would understand what she went through. Someone she could teach or be taught by how to get through this. Someone she could laugh with about how mortifying Mum’s sex ed had been, like her brothers and Harry did about dad’s. Someone to grumble to about periods without them teasing or going pale and running off. Someone to commiserate with about how overprotective and, well – conservative her brothers were (especially Ron).

Someone to stop her feeling. . . so lonely. At least sometimes.

(She laughed until she cried when she realized how much Tom had taken advantage of that desire.)

(She dated more for the experience and the thrill and the personal contact than she did because she loved them.)

Hermione was lovely, a wonderful friend who advised and fussed over and giggled with her in equal parts, but besides being nearly as overbearing as mum, she was a part of the impenetrable Ron-Harry-Hermione Golden Trio. She’d be her sister when Ron eventually got his head on straight, but. . .

Luna was brilliant, but she was far away even when she was right next to Ginny, and it seemed so petty to talk about how she sometimes hated her Mum even when she loved her when her friend’s mother was dead. Luna always seemed beyond earthly problems.

Demelza and Angelina were great, but they were quidditch mates. They played quidditch together, argued strategy and trash talked each other. Her dormmates talked about Hogsmeade, boys, studies and the latest gossip – not their trauma and loneliness.

Especially after Tom, it seemed she was destined for nothing but loneliness. Darkness and betrayal and despair.

Then, eventually, love crept back into her life. Her parents, her brothers, her Harpy teammates, her sisters-in-law, Dumbledore’s Army, and, of course, Harry.

Harry, who understood and coddled her, all at once. It was a juxtaposition she would have thought impossible. It caused several fights until they learned to trust and choose and talk to one another.

He wasn't a sister, but he was Harry, and they had their family and that was good, too.

She was still alone in many ways, but not alone in so many more.

(When Lily was born, Ginny promised herself she would make her daughter feel only the best parts of the love Ginny had herself gotten from her mother, and none of the bad, especially since she was an only girl too. Still, she made sure her daughter had an excellent support system besides her parents, in her brothers, Hugo, Rose, Lucy and the rest of the family.

She would never long for or feel lonely the way Ginny had.)

#ginny weasley #hp fandom #harry potter #friendship #fanfiction #fanfic #hinny

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casasupernovas · 1 year

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i was gonna post about how annoying i found the beginning of 'the prince's tale' in how 8/9 year old severus is written. barely a sentence in and he's described to have 'undisguised greed' on his face. or the petunia incident which raises the ire of fans but made me feel incredibly concerned because it literally confirms that snape's household is abusive because while it was underage magic, he hurt someone. where do you think he learned to respond like that?

but then i remembered of course that we are viewing these memories from the perspective of harry. which makes the way snape is written very interesting because we see how harry's opinion of him changes. he goes from a greedy dirty kid to the kid who is conspicuously uncared for and begotten compared to others etc etc.

the best example is probably the 'irksome fly' line. an annoying pest to brush off indifferently. of course harry believes he is nothing to snape, and i think you can make a good argument to believe this is true considering what snape says later. however, the very next line is dumbledore saying he has lily's eyes and snape begging him stop and expressing suicidal thoughts. which is a completely different perspective to someone who is indifferent because he clearly isn't. this all matters a LOT to snape.

and while we see the scene later with dumbledore simply saying snape sees what he expects to in harry, you can practically hear dumbledore waving snape and his concerns away. expectation - conjecture, presumption, projection. he's projecting his own grief onto harry to cloud over lily because to face that would be too much. he wanted to kill himself at the very idea of harry having her eyes, let alone seeing them everyday for years.

and i know a lot of people don't really take the 'james face lily eyes' and how that affects snape seriously, but i think at the very least, harry recognises in that very moment why snape was the way he was with him.

because it just boils down to snape flat out refusing to see the lily in him. Only moments before in the memory, dumbledore explicitly tells him that harry's eyes, the so-called 'window to the soul' are LILY'S. but in the very next moment, all snape sees is james. "you see what you expect to see severus."

he expects to not be able to see past james and not just because of the misery james brought him. but because to see past james would be to see lily, and snape couldn't do it.

until the end.

#harry potter #snape #snape meta #severus snape #pames jotter #eily lvans #albus dumbledore #pro snape #snapedom #snape fans

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ohmygodshesinsane · 1 year

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PRETTY RESTLESS, DANCING WITH THE YOUNG AND RECKLESS

for @jilymicrofics / april prompt 3: soar / words: 500

He hates avoiding. To the point it’s a key part of his personality, actually: if he ever had to answer one of those interview questions where they ask, ‘how would your friends describe you?’, where they wait for you to wax poetic about how all your best mates know you’re so diligent and such a great team player and all that rubbish (he’s never had to get a job, of course, but Peter’s described the process to him), he would have one word to give them.

Confrontational.

It’s why, although he had the build for a seeker at eleven, he chose chasing instead. He likes being able to do something. He can’t hover in the sky and watch it unfold beneath him. Dumbledore reminds him to see the bigger picture. James is. The bigger picture, for him, is every whole life that they lose. Those people’s lives are big enough. Some greater cause doesn’t numb the loss. Or fucking justify it.

He’ll send Lily and Harry into hiding, but he needs to be out here, protecting them, or even laying a false trail. He refuses to go quietly. It’s absurd. How will staying still help? He’s not got the patience to be a seeker. He needs to move. Fly. Run. Couldn’t they go to Australia? Japan? Chile? They reckon Voldemort can go anywhere but he’s going to have a time of it crossing oceans all the same. They could leave. Maybe that’s selfish. Maybe it’s the hubris Dorcas Meadowes warns him of, brown eyes wide, before Voldemort finds her and murders her in the Order’s heartland. They all have to run then.

They ward the cottage and shove him in and take his broom, which is ironic, really, because all they want him to do is soar above it all. In the junior leagues, where James first learned to toss a quaffle, their seeker had a habit of drifting towards the clouds, completely removed from the game beneath him. Getting the post with a garbled message from Wormtail is no better than peering through the rain at a blur of colours. He jogs up and down the stairs four times a day at first, but it gets more frequent until he stops marking the days. Then nothing counts.

Come and get me, James thinks, bare-chested in the front garden in the middle of autumn. Hurry up and do it already, you coward. Try. Do your best.

Lily cuts his hair in the bathroom, fingers soft on his neck. He’s rocking, like he has been for weeks, joints aching from lack of use. She’s never really played quidditch but in their pick-up matches she was a keeper. She sees the end. Even as the world narrows and the post stops coming at all, and now he’s a seeker in a storm, blinded by thunder.

“I want my Comet,” he says. “I need to hit something.”

“I know.” She sifts through his hair. “It’ll pass. One way or the other. It’ll pass.”

#jilymicrofics #jily #james potter #lily evans #hp #fanfic

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jmagnabo92 · 1 year

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S&H Bonding Part 11 - The Past

The holidays continued in much of the same way, Sirius and Harry spent their days talking about Harry’s childhood or Sirius’ favorite stories about James and Lily. Most of the Order continued to be wary, but Molly seemed to be trying to leave to their bonding time by themselves, often intervening with the other kids that seemed to want to be in on their private conversations.

It was very thoughtful of her.

Of course, Sirius couldn’t forget all of the times that she had intervened in their relationship over the summer, but it’s nice to have that support now. He’s been a lot better than he was over the summer and her wariness probably made sense back then.

On Christmas Eve, Sirius decides to play the piano that he had moved to the sitting room. Harry sits beside him, smiling even as he misses the keys. “I’m so bad at this.”

Sirius chuckles. “It takes time to learn – I wouldn’t expect you to be able to learn in an afternoon.”

“I learned flying in an afternoon,” Harry counters.

“That’s natural talent, general speaking it takes time to hone a new skill.”

“Yeah, I suppose.” Harry looks very disappointed and unhappy to be playing the piano with Sirius.

Sirius frowns, “If you don’t want to learn it – that’s okay.”

Harry shrugs, “You said that it was something you did when you were younger – so I am fine learning.”

“Kid, if you don’t want to learn – we don’t have to do it,” Sirius repeats. The last thing he wants to do is force something on Harry.

“But you want to teach me,” Harry replies, his eyes big and curious.

“I want to do something that we both enjoy,” Sirius counters. Harry’s making a face that tells him that he’s not exactly comfortable with the idea of voicing anything against what Sirius may want, so Sirius takes the initiative. “How ‘bout this? We can talk about the map and how it all works like I told you I would when we have the time.”

Harry lights up, evidently excited about learning more about his and James’ talents and efforts. “I’d like that.”

“Why don’t you go get it?” Sirius asks, and Harry doesn’t even hesitate to rush up the stairs to go get it.

“Er – Sirius,” George asks, hesitantly. “Why would you know anything about the map?”

“Because he’s Padfoot, obviously,” Harry says, back in record time. “That’s why I call him, ‘Pads’.”

“What did you do? Fly up and down the stairs?”

“I was excited,” Harry replies, looking a little sheepish.

Sirius is sure he just summoned the map since he knows his magic won’t register but doesn’t want to get into trouble. “Alright, kid.”

Sirius turns to the twins and grins at the stunned look on the twins faces as Harry says the password and lays it out on the floor. They move to sit around it, including the twins, Ron, Ginny and Hermione.

“You never said –” George starts.

“It’s not my fault, you didn’t notice,” Harry states, stiffly. “I mean, Lupin and Pads haven’t exactly hidden it either – Lupin regularly calls him ‘Padfoot’ and Pads regularly calls him ‘Moony’.”

“Someone called?” Remus asks appearing in the doorway. “Is that the map? Why is it out now?”

“Harry has been curious about the map for some time, and I thought I’d explain a bit about what we did with it. How it came to be,” Sirius offers. “Why don’t you join us?”

“On the floor?” Remus questions, looking quite like he’d rather not sit on the floor. “I’m a little too old for that.”

Sirius gives him a look. “I’m older than you.”

Remus rolls his eyes, playfully, but still sits, smiling. “Only by a few months. Always reminding us that you’re the oldest.”

“And yet, I wasn’t the first name on the map,” Sirius jokes. He had spent months arguing that because he’s the oldest that he should get to have his name first on the map.

“If we had gone in birth order, it wouldn’t have sounded as well. It works better in the order it’s in,” Remus retorts.

“You’re just saying that because you’re first,” Sirius laughs. It was such a familiar argument that he could almost imagine being in the dormitory arguing the first time.

“No, Padfoot, Wormtail, Moony and Prongs just doesn’t roll off the tongue the way that Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot and Prongs does,” Remus states. “It’s just a bonus that it means that I get to be first.”

They both laugh, before Sirius turns to the kids, particularly his kid. “So! First, we should probably start with why we created the map…”

“... it has nothing to do with the fact that we are nosy gits,” Remus finishes, trying to say it with a straight face and utterly failing.

They burst out laughing, before Sirius clears his throat. “We didn’t use the map for that, it was more that we just wanted to sneak around more confidently.”

Particularly he and James, who wanted to get away with some of their more interesting fun that he would definitely not be talking about to the kids.

“Anyway,” Sirius coughs. “It wasn’t hard to find a big enough parchment, but it’s incredibly hard to get all of the details of Hogwarts and it’s moving parts, so we had to spend a lot of time drawing and sneaking around to get everything in detail.”

“So this is all hand drawn?” Harry asks, looking at the extreme details.

Sirius nods. “Once we had a section that was accurate and verified, we’d transfer it onto the map and make it come alive if need be.”

“We spent months researching what spells would work,” Remus offers. “The whole thing took years to do.”

“Moony was in charge of research since the rest of us were busy …”

“Being nosy gits?” Harry teases.

“Oi!” Sirius says, playfully offended. The kids laugh. “No, working on the Animagus transformation.”

“Yes. They were busy making those strides while I looked up the spells. The map was a long term project for me since I couldn’t join them in the Animagus project,” Remus explains.

“Of course we all did our part. Moony got the spells research, but we each had to learn and apply them. It takes a little of all of our magic imbedded in the map to power it, so we needed all of us to place the spells on it, but that came last.”

“Right, the spells were applied last, so the next steps after determining the spells we needed, we had to map out the whole castle.”

Sirius grins, “We had so much fun. Sneaking around the school in James’ cloak. Plotting ways to get into the professor’s quarters and the common rooms we didn’t have access to.”

“It wasn’t that hard, all you had to do was find a Hufflepuff, Slytherin, and Ravenclaw and stalk them under the cloak and listen for their password and then use it when no one was around,” Remus counters. “Instead, you came up with elaborate plans just because you could.”

“Yeah, that’s too easy. We wanted to make it more fun.” Sirius notices Harry, Ron and Hermione sharing looks. “What? We like fun, elaborate plans. Why make it easy?”

Unfortunately, it seems like something else is going on because Hermione puts her face in her hands and is muttering about a month with a cat face for no reason.

He and Remus share a look. “Someone want to explain?”

He’s giving Harry a look, hoping that he’ll be honest with him.

Harry grimaces. “Ron and I might have used Polyjuice potion in second year to sneak into Slytherin and interrogate Malfoy on the heir of Slytherin and the Chamber of Secrets stuff.”

“Except he knew nothing, and Hermione spent a month with a cat face because she accidentally used cat hair,” Ron adds.

“And it was all for nothing because we could’ve just used the cloak,” Hermione groans.

Sirius isn’t sure how to react to this explanation, but Remus appears to be curious.

“How did you get Polyjuice?”

“We made it ourselves. Tricked Lockhart so we could get the book with the recipe,” Harry states looking uncertainly at Sirius.

“Yeah, wasn’t that hard. The git signs anything you put in front of him,” Ron jokes.

“We made it in Moaning Myrtles bathroom,” Hermione says. “Rarely anyone goes in there.”

“But that was a good thing because it turns out to hold the entrance to the chamber,” Harry finishes.

That one statement was enough to piece together some unfortunate pieces that Harry was somehow pulled into the vaguely mentioned chamber of secrets incident that no one has given him the explicit details of and honestly, he’s rather freaked out.

He almost can’t breathe at the thought of Harry battling some unknown monster at twelve. He looks at Harry, who’s clearly worried about him, and he chokes out, “Need a minute” before rushing out of the room. He’s not sure where to go – but as he changes into Padfoot, he finds himself rushing up the stairs to be with Buckbeak. The hippogriff would help calm him down just by his presence.

He transforms into himself to enter the room and bows to Buckbeak, who bows back. Then, he transforms into Padfoot. He didn’t need to talk… just escape.

How had his kid ended up in the Chamber of Secrets? How had he ended up in deadly situations year after year? What was he going to do with his kid? This kid that’s going to give him a heart attack someday?

All he knows is that he has got to get himself together. His reaction has probably freaked out Harry, and no doubt, Harry might second guess telling him things now.

In fact, he’s probably worried about Sirius going off the deep end and getting himself in trouble.

“Oh good, you’re in here. I was worried for a second,” Harry says, confirming Sirius’ thoughts. He enters the room, bows to Buckbeak, who bows back, and then sits down beside Sirius as Padfoot. “I’m sorry that I haven’t told you about some of the things that have happened to me.”

Sirius gives him a look, unsure if he should transform.

“But you probably want to hear at least some of what happened… since Padfoot helps, maybe I could tell you now?”

Sirius gives him a nod. He’s not sure that he wants to know, but if Harry’s willing to confess, maybe he wants to talk about it.

Harry smiles, nervously. “Well, I’ll start with first year, most of it was good, but…”

Harry details his Hogwarts letters and his magical incidents before he knew, confessing about the cupboard which has Sirius growling. He tells Sirius not to worry about it that it’s over now and someday they’ll get what’s coming to them. Then he talks about Hagrid, everything in Diagon Alley, the incident with the train, meeting everyone.

“The number of people that thought it was okay or a good idea to claim that they already know me was appalling. I hate it so much; I can’t even explain. Anyway…”

He details school life, his awful professors not doing anything for him, the incident with the Remembrall and getting on the quidditch team.

Sirius is actually really proud of that. He’s sure James was screaming excitedly in the afterlife the same way he would’ve been had he’d seen it.

Then, he goes into the midnight duel, the mess at Halloween – saving Hermione, the attack on him during the quidditch game, the Christmas holidays (poor kid), finding Flamel, and Hagrid’s baby dragon mess (the reaction to the whole story of the hatching, arranging transport, getting caught, the sheer absurdity of the points and detention in the out of bound forbidden forest, plus the students’ reaction).

“It wasn’t too bad,” Harry assures. “I’ve now dealt with worse. It was hard at the time – I seriously wanted to quit quidditch it was so bad. Can’t imagine what life would’ve been like without it, now, but I really just wasn’t happy – being unwanted and treated like that was something I’m used to at the Dursleys, but to suddenly have that at school by my own teammates and housemates – it sucked.”

Sirius whines. He hated thinking of his kid suffering so much that he wanted to quit his favorite sport.

“Anyway, we thought Snape was going to steal the stone because of the incident during Detention and what I’d seen between him and Quirrell. We tried to go to Dumbledore but he was flying to the Ministry and so we told McGonagall. She dismissed us.”

Harry pauses, “You’re going to be pretty mad at this next bit, but I just want to remind you that I am alive.”

Sirius gives him a look. That statement doesn’t make him any less angry at what he suspects happened. If Harry went after the stone because McGonagall decided to dismiss him, and nearly died, someone’s getting bitched at.

Harry goes on anyway, explaining about the situation with sneaking out and down the trapdoor. Sirius is suspicious of the situation with how it easy it was for the kids to do it. By the time he gets to Quirrell and the mirror, Sirius is furious. It was some sort of setup; a test of sorts and he’s pissed. He’s growling throughout the explanation, which barely lessons when Harry wakes up in the hospital three days later. Three days. The thought that his kid was unconscious, in the hospital, for three days has him so furious – even as Padfoot – that he knows he’s going to rage for hours against Dumbledore the next time he sees him.

Harry’s looking at him, worriedly. He stops growling and rubs his head against Harry’s hand, hoping that he’ll start petting again and continue.

Harry sighs and finishes out the year. Sirius is genuinely upset that all of a sudden people like Harry again. That he had to save the day to get treated right. It makes him furious.

Harry doesn’t stop, launching into second year and how boring the Dursleys before stopping, “What kicks off the whole Chamber of Secrets mess starts at the Dursleys, and I need you to promise that you won’t go kill them.”

Sirius snorts. If he was going to kill the Dursleys, he would’ve done it already. Unfortunately, he’s painfully clear that no matter how many people hurt his kid, he can’t do anything, yet. Nothing legal anyway.

Harry takes that as the promise.

“Alright, well, Dobby was aware of a plan to give a special object to Hogwarts and start the whole nonsense because he was a Malfoy elf, and he knew what Malfoy was up to… so he tried to stop me from going to Hogwarts to protect ‘the great Harry Potter’, blah, blah, blah….”

Sirius snorts, again. That elf certainly has a thing for his kid.

Harry continues, clearly not bothered by Sirius’ snort. He talks about being excited for Vernon’s proclamation at breakfast and thinking it meant he remembered Harry’s birthday and detailing what was expected of him. Sirius starts growling, again, angry that Harry spent his twelfth birthday all alone, doing chores, being barely fed and then, spending the evening pretending he didn’t exist.

Only that wasn’t the worst bit.

Dobby had nearly cost Harry his life when he deliberately caused issues for Harry. Obviously, Harry is alive and fine, but even with him glossing over everything that happened when Dobby ruined the Dursleys’ night, Sirius can’t help imagining his twelve-year-old kid locked in a room, slowing starving to death, just because of some house elf that shouldn’t even have been able to find him if Dumbledore’s blood protection was to be believed.

Dobby might’ve been a boon in recent months, but he’s quite angry that he could’ve gotten Harry killed. Then again, he’s furious that Dumbledore’s so-called protection – the one that kept Harry at the Dursleys for a month over the summer – obviously didn’t hold up well at all. Of course, he suspected given the guard on Harry over the summer. A guard that somehow didn’t notice Harry’s clear abuse.

Suddenly, he realizes that Harry’s still talking about the twins and Ron saving him by breaking him out, the rest of the summer (no wonder he’s angry that the Weasleys claim that he’s like a son given he almost died, and they still didn’t offer a home), the mess at the floo and bookstore, Dobby’s blocking the barrier and flying a car to school.

Sirius would be laughing his arse off at that, but right now, he’s just confused. He has plenty of questions, but it appears that Harry’s too busy talking and petting him to bother checking Sirius for a response. Sirius wonders if Harry ever told anyone these stories before. Clearly, now that he’s started, he just wants to let it all out.

Maybe Sirius should’ve turned into Padfoot over the summer to bond with Harry.

Harry continues talking about the ridiculousness of Colin Creevey being the worst fanboy ever, at least Ginny didn’t follow him around and talk his ear off. He talks about Lockhart, quidditch (Wood is something else), Snape’s assholery behavior, and the detention. He talks about everyone knowing everything about him and the weird situation of voices in the walls.

Then, he got to the specifics: The Death Day party (cruel thing to do to his kid who was orphaned that day), the message on the wall, the instant suspicion on Harry (that makes no sense), Dobby and the quidditch game (another thing to be annoyed with Dobby about – downright furious at Wood’s callous words), and Colin’s attack.

“There was a dueling club – Malfoy sent a snake at me in front of everyone and I spoke to it – that’s how I found out about my parseltongue ability.”

Here, Harry looks down at him uncertainly. Sirius nods and rubs his head against Harry’s hand to show that he doesn’t think any differently of Harry for his ability. He’s surprised that Harry didn’t know that Sirius had already been aware of his ability. Harry smiles and goes on.

“Dealing with the suspicion was awful. But it did encourage me to try and figure out who was doing it – hence the Polyjuice potion to sneak into the Slytherin dorms on Christmas…”

He details the second holidays, their plot with the Polyjuice, issues with Myrtle (who had – has – a crush on Harry), and their crazy plan only somewhat working. The dead-end had been disappointing, but they continued on with investigating as more attacks happen and Harry keeps somehow ending up at every scene. Poor kid.

“And then, just when I thought Lockhart couldn’t get any dumber, he decides to ‘celebrate’ the situation by having dwarf cupids running around giving out singing valentines. Sheer chaos. He also told us to ask Snape about whipping up a love potion and seriously, he looked like he’d kill anyone who’d ask for something like that.” Harry laughs, “And of course, despite everyone thinking I was setting a monster about the castle, I got a few valentines. There’s this one that was so embarrassing, I tried to run and dwarf tackled me – it was in front of so many people – including Malfoy, of course…”

Sirius is surprised when Harry actually sings it:

His eyes are as green as a fresh pickled toad

His hair as dark as a blackboard

I wish he was mine, he’s really Devine,

The hero who conquered the Dark Lord

“I tried to laugh it off, but it was so embarrassing and of course the twins spent the evening singing it out loud to me all night – I know it wasn’t them though, in case you’re wondering.”

Of course, Sirius knows that. He’s betting it was Ginny, but the Creevey kid is a possibility.

“Anyway, the only good thing was that I figured out how the diary worked…”

Of course, he continues to poke around and finds the diary, which he didn’t know was so special, but had some weird interest in. He details talking to the diary, which talked back, causing major concern for Sirius. A diary like that was serious dark magic. He would’ve been yelling if he could when Harry detailed the diary showing him scenes from 1946. Something wasn’t right, but with Harry petting him, he couldn’t change back, probably for the best – his anger could scare Harry off from finishing the story.

Harry continues, “I really didn’t want to ask Hagrid about his potential involvement, so we kind of pushed it off, even after the original borrower of the diary ransacked my stuff to get it back. Especially since things were fine until there was another attack… this time on Hermione right before the quidditch game.”

Sirius whines. He feels bad that the situation had returned and this time so close to home. It must have been devastating for Harry and Ron. However, the attack made most students realize that it wasn’t him.

Harry explains about the resolve to sneak away and discuss with Hagrid only for Fudge and a Lucius Malfoy to show up. He mentions Fudge and his corrupt ways with the arrest of Hagrid and Dumbledore’s sacking. Sirius agrees with the latter but disagrees with the former – at least the Azkaban part. Since Hagrid was seemingly involved the first time (and those attacks stopped with his expulsion), it makes sense to remove him from the school, but not arrest him without proof.

He explains about Hagrid’s ‘follow the spiders’ message and now, Sirius has a new thing to be angry with Hagrid about. Sirius is growling throughout the whole story of his and Ron’s adventure into the nest of man eating spiders. He couldn’t imagine what he’d do if he had watched Harry’s adventures without knowing that he survives.

“So we learned a few things, the security was tight, so we barely got the opportunity to visit Hermione, who had ripped out a page regarding the snake in the Chamber. Once the announcement about Ginny was made, we went back to the common room only to eventually decide that we needed to tell Lockhart what we knew so he’d be prepared. Unfortunately, the man was a fraud…”

He details the entire events from visiting Lockhart to the return and telling Dumbledore the story. Sirius had whined and growled at very places, only having Harry present, alive, and petting him had managed to keep him from completely losing mind. Everything he’d gone through – almost dying – would’ve had Sirius flipping out. Hogwarts was obviously not safe for his kid and as happy as he is for the Weasleys, he’s very upset that Harry had to save the day. And even more pissed at Percy for his letter now.

“Now, I know you know about some stuff from third and fourth year, but I figure I could give you some details about the things you missed, like blowing up Aunt Marge…”

Although Sirius was angry at the Dursleys for allowing the situation, listening to his kid talking about standing up for his parents and ballooning Vernon’s sister was a delight, too bad she wouldn’t remember it. Sirius is furious at the Ministry for wanting to send him back after that, but Harry continues on. He gets through third year much faster than first and second, only getting into the details for things he wants to complain about (like Trelawney and not going to Hogsmeade), things he enjoyed, or things that were fun troublemaking or funny to him (like how he got the map in the first place or the maps reaction to Snape and winning the quidditch cup). He skips entirely over the events of that night except to explain why they were at Hagrid’s and the time turner. Overall, somehow a better year.

“And you know most of fourth year, but there’s some details I didn’t tell you, yet, so…”

Sirius could tell that Harry just wants someone to listen and that he’s actually feeling better just talking about everything. Just like he’d said way back when Sirius gave him the mirror, he never really had someone want to know everything or got to talk about it much. Hence reveling in the chance to tell Sirius the details of his life.

Even the embarrassing ones.

“Okay, obviously, I was under a lot of stress, but I’m kind of amazed that Cho still fancied me after that,” Harry adds when he details the events leading up to the first task and snapping on Cho, not realizing it was her. “And of course, I should’ve asked her sooner, but I didn’t know about the ball and honestly, I was disaster with girls last year…”

At this, Sirius gives him a look.

“Oi! I’ve gotten tons better this year.” A snort by Sirius and Harry says, “I have! Just let me tell you how bad I was at the ball…”

Sirius would’ve been laughing so hard that he couldn’t breathe at Harry’s explanation of the ball, but couldn’t as Padfoot, instead he plots ways to embarrass Harry once he can talk while continuing to listen to Harry’s mess up. He’s right, Harry has gotten loads better with dating since the previous year.

Eventually though, he gets back to more serious things like the Hagrid mess and figuring out the egg clue. It’s just when he gets though Myrtle showing up in his bath when they hear:

“WHAT DO YOU LOT THINK YOU’RE DOING?”

Jarring them from their comfortable spot and looking at the door where Sirius just happens to spy the extendable ear pop away. Sirius glances at Harry, who looks devastated that everything he told Sirius could have been overheard by his friends. Clearly, he wouldn’t want them to know and now they do.

“Why don’t you go up to your room and I’ll take care of this?” Sirius offers immediately turning back into himself.

Harry gives him a grateful look and takes off upstairs, while Sirius heads downstairs. He reaches the landing with the drawing room, where Molly is yelling at the remaining kids and Tonks.

“What the hell is going on here?” Sirius thunders, angrily. Based off the disappearing extendable ear and Molly’s tirade that he’s heard the beginnings of that mentioned privacy and eavesdropping, he’s sure that he already knows.

“Oh, Sirius, I’m so sorry. I thought I had a handle on their eavesdropping – somehow, they must’ve created more of those ridiculous ears. I don’t know how long they were listening or how much they heard, but rest assured they will be punished for the rest of the holiday – so busy cleaning or other chores that they won’t have time to bother you or Harry again as soon as I’m done yelling at them,” Molly says. “Unless you’d like to yell at them?”

He’s tempted but they (minus Hermione and Tonks) are her kids, she should discipline them.

He clears his throat. “If I started yelling, I’d probably say something we’d all regret. So, I’ll leave the punishing to you. I just need to know: how long?”

He’s staining at the kids, who are not looking at him. All of them looking down in shame.

“Answer him,” Molly says, sternly.

There’s a cough, and Fred answers, “The beginning. Lupin went to get tea when Harry went after you and…. we couldn’t help ourselves.”

Sirius gives an angry snort, and figures nothing more needs to be said as he turns and takes off up the stairs.

He’s got a kid to console.

#sirius black #harry james potter #harry j potter #sirius and harry #sirius and harry saturday #good godfather sirius black #sirius & harry #sirius and harry bonding #harry potter #mirror talks

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heidi891 · 1 year

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The Timeline

My random thoughts about Snape becoming Death Eater and spy.

1971–1978 (11–18 yo): He was at Hogwarts. He hung up with the future Death Eaters to avoid bullying, to have some power and control, to have any kind of support and so on. I believe he was the most interested in Dark Arts back then because of this.

Late 1978 (18 yo): He became a Death Eater. It’s unclear if he did it as soon as he graduated. Did he have some job? My personal headcanon is that James Potter told his father about Snape (or rather had been telling him for years), of course painting him as the villainous Dark wizard and Fleamont Potter, as the famous Potioneer he was, repeated this to others, preventing Snape from getting a good job. I think this was the final straw and Snape decided to become a DE by the end of 1978. Anyway, he could’ve become a DE as early as July 1978 (18 yo) or as late as the beginning of 1980 (20 yo).

Early 1980 (20 yo): The Prophecy was made.

Late 1980 (20 yo): Snape met with Dumbledore. I’m not sure about the month, the trees were leafless but the leaves were still flying around and there was no snow, so it must have been late autumn like November or December. This was certainly before July 1981, because Lily wrote a letter then, claiming that they had been hiding for some time and James was frustrated.

So Snape was a Death Eater for 2 years (at most 2,5 and at least a few months).

During that time no one thought he was a DE (per Sirius’ words in GoF after Harry saw the trials in the Pensieve). In HBP Bellatrix claims Snape is "all words, no action", so probably repeating the Prophesy was his biggest *achievement*. He might have witnessed tortures or murders though, so he’s definitely no saint, as he participated in it by letting it happen.

September 1981 (21 yo): He started teaching at Hogwarts. (After James and Lily died, he was in Dumbledore’s office, so he must have already been a teacher, it would be weird if he started working in the middle of a term and in OotP he says he’s been working at Hogwarts for 14 years.)

October 1981 (21 yo): Peter became the Secret Keeper, betrayed the Potters, they died.

So during the first war Snape was a spy for almost a year.

So he must have already been good at Occlumency. (Although I guess he was less significant back then and Riddle wasn’t as focused on him as during the second war.) However, at school Snape was interested in the Dark Arts and Potions, and had no reason to learn Occlumency, so personally I think he started learning Legilimency and Occlumency when he met Voldemort—a great Legilimens himself. At first he could have been interested in Legilimency, but he could have relied on Occlumency more and more as time went by and he witnessed more and more uncomfortable things.

I think he wanted out even before Lily was in danger—judging by the meeting with Dumbledore.

If he had been an obsessed incel who wanted Lily for himself, he would have just made a deal with Voldemort instead of begging him to spare her life. Since he was able to ask Riddle for this and Voldemort actually ~sort of~ tried to do it, why not ask him to Stupefy Lily instead, so Snape could make her his sex slave?

He could have warned the Potters or Dumbledore anonimously and still been a faithful DE without the risk of getting killed by Dumbledore or Voldemort.

But no, he chose the most risky option—meeting with Dumbledore personally.

While the memories he gave Harry were focused on Lily, I think Snape did it deliberately to convince Harry he was telling the truth. A memory with Snape looking at someone being tortured/murdered with an impassive expression (and internal screaming) would be absolutely unconvincing. But what he did is quite telling: he learnt Occlumency, he met with Dumbledore and become a spy after one short conversation.

I think this is also why Dumbledore told Snape to spy for him—because he saw a desperate man who made terrible decisions and wanted out, and not because he saw a ruthless, obsessed incel. Dumbledore isn’t that naive.

#severus snape #pro snape #albus dumbledore #severus snape meta #harry potter books

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bellatrixobsessed1 · 1 year

Text

Skin & Scale (Part 24)

The palace is a distorted, off-kilter version of itself. It is both larger and smaller than she remarks it being. It feels like there are more stairs although she counts the same number as she ascends them. The gold accents trimming the tiers of the roof don't gleam quite as splendidly. These things, she knows, are illusions. The palace is the same as it has ever been.

She can only attribute this familiar unfamiliarity to prolonged absence.

The palace gardens however, are vastly different. There are new bushes surrounded by clusters of new flowers, mostly jasmine and panda lily. There are new stones as well, they are stacked on top of each other decoratively.

There is a great hammering and banging that she follows to just beyond the palace garden and as swift as the clanging hammer falls, it comes back to her and her cheeks color ever so slightly. It has been months and they are still working to fix the damage that she has done.

Months of work that wouldn't have been needed had she been more careful.

"Of course you're staring at the wall." Zuko comments.

"And what's that supposed to mean, Zuzu?"

"That you still tend to focus on mistakes instead of accomplishments."

"Maybe you do that." She shrugs, "I find it perfectly easy to appreciate my successes." And equally as easy to shame herself for the times when she had had none. She waves her hand dismissively. "It's just a wall, it is as though I toppled the entire palace."

"So how are you adjusting to being a dragon?" He asks.

"Well enough, I suppose. I was able to fly all the way here. And I can manage these partial transformations, but mother and father advise against."

"Why is that?"

"It isn't worth the energy that it takes. But o would rather like to have claws, just the claws every now and again." They take a few steps in silence before she asks how things have been here. "The city, as far as I can tell, is still in tact."

"Thats because I am a good Fire Lord who totally knows what he is doing. I've repaired most of the roads, improved our infrastructure, and started striking up new trade deals."

"You want my approval so badly."

"I do not!" He exclaims just quickly enough to let her know that there is at least a fragment of him.that itches for validation. "I suppose that you did a good job what the roads.

"Thanks, I…wait a minute, you said that you flew here!"

Azula laughs and then tappers off into a hum. "I suppose that they did look rather nice from above, I didn't see any massive craters."

"Right well, you'll get a chance to walk on them soon enough and see for yourself."

"Do you like living with the Sun Warriors?"

"It has been rather enriching and insightful. I am learning chunks of Fire Nation history that most people haven't thought to learn about."

"How are Sokka and Katara?"

"Annoying and helpful respectively."

"But are they happy? What about Mai and TyLee?"

"I guess. They haven't said otherwise. And Mai is still mad at you, if that's what you are trying to ask."

Zuko grimaces. "Is she still angry at you?"

"We've had time to talk. Believe it or not, I put in a good word for you." She gives a flippant hand flick. She gives an extended pause. "Have you heard anything of mother's whereabouts?"

"Father talks more about you than her…" Zuko trails off.

Her skin prickles. So he has been to see Ozai. She wonders just how regularly. Based upon the exhaustion in his voice, she would wager that he has been paying for information for nearly as long as she has been gone.

"He kept saying that he doesn't know. And he would tell me awful stories that can't be true. He makes mother sound so…evil. She isn't evil."

"Isn't she?" Azula quirks a brow. "She stole me away from my parents and had the audacity to tell me that I was a terrible child."

"She made mistakes!"

"Those were some mistakes…"

"You don't even know know what they are!"

"I have a decent idea. The Sun Warriors told me what kind of rituals are performed to create a…whatever I am."

"Father didn't give her a choice. He told me that he forced her to do it!"

"Don't be so dramatic, Zuzu. We're all a little bit evil."

Something in his jaw works.

"I want to talk to mother. You can either let us come with you or Ran, Shaw. And I will find her on our own before you can find her."

"Seriously, Azula, you're going back to the menacing threats?"

"I offered you an opportunity and presented you with facts; we will find her on our own if we have to."

He slows his walk to a halt. "That's a threat, Azula."

"Only if you take it that way." She flicks her bangs.

"How else am I supposed to take it." He frowns.

And here she had thought that they were past him assuming the worst of her. She mumbles as much. "What do you think we'll do when we find her?"

"I don't know what Ran and Shaw will do. They weren't exactly shy about how much they hated our…my mother."

"What do you think I'm going to do?"

"Is it wishful thinking to say that you'd defend her?"

"A little bit, yes. I won't defend her but I won't let them seriously maim her." Unless she gives her a reason to. "I want to hear her out, Zuzu. I want to hear her tell me why she did this to me. I don't want to hear it from you or father or uncle. I want her own words. She can at least give me that after everything she took."

"What about father?"

"What about him?"

"How can you be harder on mother than him!?"

"I've already had a discussion with him. He knows where he stands with me. Mother and father can decide what they want to do with him." She nonchalantly inspects her nails.

"When?"

Oh right, she never had gotten a chance to tell them about that misendeavor. "Before I fully transformed."

"And you didn't tell any of us?"

"I never found the time. I was busy bleeding and breaking, in case you don't remember."

Zuko rubs his hands over his face and sighs. "Sorry."

"For what?" She quirks a brow.

"For assuming the worst of you again."

"Im used to it."

"But you're not making this easy you're still…"

"Distant and mistrustful." She shrugs. "Yes, Mai went on and on about that…" she trails off into a sigh. "Its in my nature."

"You're still afraid, aren't you?" Aang invites himself into the conversation.

"And why would you think such a ridiculous thing like that, Avatar?"

"Because you're a lot nicer when you aren't stressed or nervous. Sokka said that he's been getting away with a lot of shenanigans since you began your flying lessons."

"Sokka should learn when to keep quiet…"

"It's okay to have a soft side, Azula." Aang smiles one of his cheerful, affectionate smiles.

"I am a dragon. We are not cuddly."

Behind her Sokka sniffles a snorting laugh.

"We have fangs and claws and it would do well for some peasants to remember that."

Sokka slings an arm over her shoulder. "If you say so." Very loudly he whispers, "They all sleep in one cave together and she curls up in the middle."

For the second time today, her face reddens. It isn't as though she had ever had the chance to curl up next to her parents as a child.

"She's a baby dragon, remember!" TyLee gushes.

Zuko cracks a smile, his expression softening significantly.

"I will set all of you on fire." She grumbles. She ought to transfer the burning in her cheeks to the ground in front of her.

"We can work together to find mother." Zuko agrees. "All of us and it won't be anything like the spirit mission."

"Alright, I will speak with my parents. That have grown fond of Mai, TyLee, Katara, and this buffoon." Azula jabs her thumb at Sokka. "I will tell them to be…open minded about the rest of you." She can't promise that she can convince them to be lenient with Ursa.

#Avatar The Last Airbender #Azula #Dragon Azula #Zuko #Aang #Sokka #Fanfiction

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daliyla · 1 year

Text

I don't know if someone already wrote it but... A httyd!Marauders au?

Remus being a sick and weak child, but he wants to be accepted in the village, so he tries to kill a dragon with weapons he builds (like Hiccup). Until one night he does it, he shots a dragon while he was flying, but when Remus finds him in the forest he's not able to kill him, and he calls he Moony (there was a full moon when he shot the dragon).

He's sent to a school to learn how to kill dragons and there are also James, Peter, Lily, Mary, Dorcas, all the crew basically. There are also Sirius and Regulus and they HAVE to be perfect and the best of the class, or their mother will punish them. So when Remus, the weak, weak Remus, becomes the best because of all the tricks he learned training Moony, Sirius just can't accept it. He and Reggie have been trained for all their life. They just can't lose, or Mother will be furious. He has to protect himself and his brother.

So he faces Remus and asks him if he's somehow cheating, Remus avoids all the questions (he already has a crush on Sirius- so yeah, we have Remus "fell first" Lupin and Sirius "fell harder" Black) until one day Sirius follows him and finds Moony and at first he's afraid but then he learns to love him...

And he also learn how to love Remus.

#james potter #regulus black #wolfstar #sirius black #remus lupin #how to train your dragon #moony #remus fell first #sirius fell harder #i just love how to train your dragon so much #lily evans #mary mcdonald #marlene mckinnon #dorcas meadowes #walburga black a+ parenting #hate that woman

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queen-rainy-love · 2 years

Note

ehe final part let's go (Written as a scenario)

The purelily family is having a nice, family dinner. Red Velvet and Madeliene look fine/normal, Knight looks a little anxious but overall is acting okay, and Clover is acting very stressed and isn't talking during the dinner. Madeliene, Red Velvet, and Knight all told pv and white lily about the power things (because they have all learned to control it), clover is acting as though he doesn't have one (because he has not controlled it, and is very scared of using it). Pv and White lily obviously notice the tension, and they ask what's wrong. Knight explains why he's anxious, Clover just lies and says he's fine. They both ask Clov again, more worried this time. He kinda snaps and says he's fine but more harsh. NO idea what happens in between or after that, but for the sake of it let's say clover accidently left his lute at home :)

Excited to see what ya write! -Anon :D

Oooooo. I like this.

*The scene is set in the Vanilla Kingdom where the Pure Lily family is eating dinner. Pure Vanilla, White Lily, Madeleine, and Red Velvet are acting just fine. Knight is twisting his fork nervously but is acting fine. Clover was pushing his food around, not looking at anyone, and hadn't spoken at all.*

Pure Vanilla: How is everyone doing lately? How are your trainings?

Red Velvet: Well, I've learned how to summon a Cake Monster without transforming myself.

Madeleine: I was able to summon my Divine Light self without causing damage!

Knight: It's...okay...

Clover: *nervous* Mine...still haven't appeared yet. *picks up his cup and nearly spills it.*

*Pure Vanilla and White Lily look at each other before looking back at Clover.*

Pure Vanilla: Clover? Knight? Is something wrong?

Clover: Nothing is wrong. It's fine.

Knight: I'm still trying to get my summons to listen to me but I always feel like they'll attack me for revenge.

White Lily: Marble, you shouldn't be worried. You will have an understanding of your powers soon. And Clover...is there something you're not telling us?

Pure Vanilla: Our dear lucky Clover, please tell us what's wrong. We want to help but we can't if you don't-

Clover: *quickly stands up* I'm fine! Just fine! There's no need to check on me!! I'M FINE!!!!

*As he is saying that, an dark green aura surrounds him, sparks flying. Knight, Madeleine, and Red Velvet quickly stands up and gets into position to dodge. White Lily and Pure Vanilla look scared...and yet stay in their seats.*

Clover: WHY DO YOU WANT TO KNOW ABOUT MY POWERS!!! IT'S FINE IF I DON'T HAVE ONE!!!!

*As soon as he said that, a vine from behind Clover strike at Pure Vanilla and White Lily. Red Velvet was quick enough to block the attack but the vine wraps around him and he quickly learns that Clover does have a new skill. He feels his health being sapped away bit by bit. He falls to his knees, almost passing out from the dizziness.*

Clover: *just realizing what he did* No no no! Please stop! Don't hurt him! *Tries to pull the vines off but failing. Tears falling down.* Please stop!

*Madeleine and Knight grabbed their swords and swing. The blades cut through the vine, freeing Red Velvet. Barely sitting up, Red Velvet looks like he's about to throw up and crumble. Pure Vanilla quickly starts healing his second son as White Lily tries to calm Clover.*

Clover: *cowers away* No! Stay back! I'll hurt you!

White Lily: Clover...you need to calm down. This was an accident. You can help heal your brother.

Clover: But I can't!!! My new powers are-

White Lily: *grabs his hands* They are only dangerous if you let them! If you keep fighting them, they will resist you and harm someone! But...if you allow it to become part of you, it will never harm anyone close to you.

*Clover looks over at Red Velvet and Pure Vanilla, Red Velvet barely looking better. White Lily guides Clover over at them and places a hand on Red Velvet's back.*

White Lily: Use your healing spell. Sing.

*With a shaky breath, Clover sings his usual healing spell. Combine with Pure Vanilla's healing spell, it becomes easier for Red Velvet to sit. However, the rest of the night is spent making sure Red Velvet recovers.*

I hope this was good. And thank you for the fun birthday gift.

#cookie run kingdom #crk headcanons #red velvet cookie #knight cookie #madeleine cookie #clover cookie #pure vanilla cookie #white lily cookie

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bluemoonfantasiesiii · 1 year

Note

Lily wanted to ask 'why that thing fell? And where did it fell from? And if it can fly away so the mountain could be fine again?' But she was easily distracted by Rubedo's finger toward the Jade chamber "oh right~! How could that big house be floating up there~?! It looks so heavy too~!" She asked tugging lightly on Susu's long green-sleeve.

The lady giggled before she replied with a smile "that is because~, that big chamber was built upon some mechanical devices with adepti art of old~, cutie~" she answered her within simple way for her to understand "Wow~! How can the people live there go up high to it~? Do they glides like Amber to it~?" The girl asked again.

"Oh~ it's been a while when I last saw that young champion~, hehe~. Oh I hope I could answer you~, dear~, but sadly that is some secret for those people only to know~" Susu said calmly before she kneels down to hug the tiny curious girl "you ask a lot~, just like your father~! Awww~" she cooed before chuckling as the little girl laughed at the surprise hug attack she received from the chef.

"I want to help papa when I grow up~! So I should learn as much as I can now~! Just like him~!" She exclaimed cheerfully with one hand up in the air for explaining being too genuine in her words.

The chef chuckled before looking at Ruby with soft caring smile of a mother "and what about you~, cutie~? Do you want to help your dad too~? Or is there another dream in your mind~?" Her question was genuine of what the boy wish to do in his future, treating him like a normal human boy rather than some over enhanced whopperflower.

Lily looked at him with curious eyes wanting to know his answer as well.

“I don’t want to be an alchemist,” Rubedo admitted, “but I do want to help my Papa and my Uncle. I want to be able to remind them that everything is okay now. Their teacher wasn’t a very nice person, so I want to help them heal from the pain she caused them.”

Albedo felt himself tear up a bit at that as he and his brother moved in to hug him.

#moon answers shit #vincent anon #rhinesons au

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abjohn22 · 1 year

Text

Bell Cranel

The competition

The one-on-one competition was delayed for 3 months due to the time in building the arena and inviting noble people and other Familia outside Orario.

The guild was taking advantage of this situation to make so much money for themselves and for the winning team.

So Bell and others got enough time to practice for the match. This time Bell was learning things very fast. He will go to the dungeon in order to practice what he had learned.

Bell used all the money he had been saving to buy a grimoire with a magic of 'flying blades'. He got a new skill of 'perfect vision'.

This skill help him to foresee all the incoming attacks and help him to identify the week point of his opponent.

Bell got his status updated. All his abilities are rank B. He already have the enough ranks to level up, but Hestia decided to not to level him up until the match ends.

Lili was not just a supporter. She can fight with a spear. She got training from Takemikazuchi. She is also going to fight in the competition.

The day of competition arrived. The Gods are exited to see their children shine. After all this is the perfect thing for them to kill time.

Many Familia participated in the Competition. All the executives of these Familia also joined the competition as they all saw it an opportunity to level up.

Lili got a fight with another Level 1m ( sword user). Lili was struggling against her opponent. But in the end through a single counter attack she knock out her opponent and win. Just from that win Lili was able to level up to 2. But she got defeated in the next match as her opponent out class her both in skill and experience.

Bell's first opponent was Mikoto. Before their turn comes,

Mikoto " Don't expect me to go easy on you Bell, just like you I also want to be strong and protect my family."

Bell " Eeeee, I think you were a nice person, Mikoto "

Mikoto " Are you trying to buy me now?"

Lilli " Don't be an embarrassment to lady Hestia. Even I got at least one win."

Bell " Hey, you win because your first opponent was a newbie. Just who do you think my opponent is."

Mikoto " Don't embarrass me in front of everyone, Bell"

Bell " Seems like I got to loose in my first fight itself."

Hestia and Takemikazuchi was exited to see their children on stage. They cheered for both of them.

The battle began. Bell was going all out and Mikoto wasn't holding back either. Bell counter attacked Mikoto. Mikoto was the one to injure Bell a lot. Bell activated Beast mode when he was almost about to loose. This time Mikoto is on defense. Finally Bell was able to make a cut on her left shoulder. Then Bell pull out his second sword and started double yielding. This surprised Mikoto. She had been trying to do this for a long time, but she couldn't master it at all. She got a little bit jealous of Bell's ability. She then using her concurrent chanting she put Bell inside a gravity Barrier were only she can move freely. Everyone one thought that it was over for Bell. But Bell counter attacked her even inside the barrier, this blew her mind. Bell pull out all the defense modes when she attacked ruthlessly. She then used her gravity barrier to squeeze him. Just when Bell was about to get crashed Bell got really angry and burst out through the barrier. It took a lot of energy for Bell. But Bell didn't gave up. He used his magic on Mikoto. And also go on a rampage on her. She couldn't keep up with his stamina and strength. Bell used his special technique on her and the next moment her sword was flying in the air. Bell's blade were on her neck. Victory for Bell.

Mikoto admitted her defeat. Hestia and Takemikazuchi were so happy to see their children shine their brightest.

Finn " Truly impressive, his swordsmanship is on another level. But that's not the thing..." Riveria observed that Finn's thump was going crazy again. Riveria narrowed her eyes and looked at a the boy.

Riveria with a smile "I guess he is not the same weak boy we met 9 months ago. "

Bell's next opponent was Lefiya. She was a level 3 opponent. She was strong. She roasted him with her fire magic, freeze him with ice magic, blow him away with Arcs ray and defended using barriers. Poor Bell struggled till the end. But he realized something He had an incredible healing power that amazed the Gods. He must have been killed with her ice magic, but thanks to his strength he just got out of it time. Lefiya's weakness was combat, but she block his attacks using her barrier. Bell with no other way unleashed beast mode. He then deflected all her magic with flying blades. Finally he cut her down ( But didn't kill her.)

Finn " This guy got real spirits."

Riveria " Little bit terrifying though."

Aiz " Lefiya almost got this. But in the end she let it go. I think she messed up with her spell in the end."

Gareth " This bunny is for real."

Bete in anger " This rabbit brat."

Freya licking her lips " Interesting."

Bell get to the finals. He was too exited. If he win he got 10 million vallis. But if he loose he will get only 2.5 million vallis.

Bell get shocked to see that his opponent was "Raul".

Bell " Oooi, I think you get to the wrong finals. This is not for level 4s like you."

The moderator " From the request of the majority of the audience, the final is set between you and Raul san."

Bell " Then what happen to the real finalist?"

Moderator " He exchanged his position with him."

Bell " Where does this rule come from out off nowhere ?"

Moderator " Rules are rules, you got to follow them Mr Bunny"

Bell " Oh come on ... "

Raul " Look like we don't have any other choose. Mr Bell Cranel."

Bell " At least you have some respect. "

Raul " Shall we."

Bell " Wait a minute, I still got an option. Okay everybody, I am quitting and the winner is Mr Raul san."

The crowd went silent. Bell started walking away. Bell prioritize his own health over money.

Freya from her chair with the mike " Ooii Bunny, are you scared?"

The crowd started to call him Coward.

Bell pissed " Okay then, bring it on man. But make sure you knock me out fast. I got a go home early."

Raul thought the fight would be easy. But it wasn't. Even though bell is having the disadvantage.

Bell was pissed by the audience. Bell activated beast mode from the start itself. Both of them got real serious.

They fight to the death. Bell is the one getting injured all the time. Raul didn't get any scratch.

Bell then suddenly copied Raul's technique and used it on him. Raul didn't expect that and he got more than 5 scratches now.

Bell with a smile " Bingo, Can't get to sleep tonight if I let you win without even one scratch."

Raul " Alright then let's get it over soon." Soon after Bell got knocked out clean. At least he put out a fight with a level 4 even though he was level 2 for more than 15 minutes.

Finn with a creepy smile " Did he just copy his technique in one shot? "

Riveria with wide eyes filled with terror" This brings back memories. "

Aiz small blush" Wow, Even though he lost he did put up a good fight, Truly amazing."

Freya with a romantic smile" Alright Bunny, I will play with you one day."

Bell was levelled up to level 3. Bell did get 2.5 million valis and he used it to completely repair his residence.

Lefiya was amazed by Bell's will power and strength. She began to have a crush on Bell. She decided to get close to him.

In the Hostess of Fertility, a certain girl smile after witnessing the power of Bell Cranel. She decided to get closer to him.

Finn and Riveria planning on spying on Bell Cranel. They took advantage of Lefiya's crush on him and decided to use her to gain knowledge about him.

Finn and Riveria decided to set Lefiya in love with Bell.

Next time " Operation Love "

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pet-genius · 3 years

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A complex and many-layered thing

But Harry’s anger at Snape continued to pound through his veins like venom. Let go of his anger? He could as easily detach his legs. . . .

This is the first Occlumency lesson. Harry is right, of course. Feelings don’t go away because you want them to. To let go of them when they’ve not been addressed or validated can be as hard as detaching a leg. And yet, it’s what Dumbledore asked Snape to do, and it’s what Snape had to do to survive the first war as Dumbledore’s spy. You have to ask yourself… how?

Trapped animals chew off their own legs to escape. It’s a sacrifice they make to survive.

If there’s one thing in a fic that turns me off it, it’s the idea that Occlumency shields are a thing, that Severus was so gifted at it because he’s got some power like Second Sight or being a metamorphagus. I always preferred to think of Occlumency and Legilimency as skills that can be learned, even if some have more aptitude for it than others.

Severus entered Hogwarts with the kind of life experience that primed him for developing these skills, and left it with even more. Occlumency is magical dissociation, a post-traumatic coping mechanism, and Severus has C/PTSD. More under the cut; tw: just general angst.

To survive, he would have had to develop a knack for telling how explosive and unpredictable people feel. Over his life, he faced at least two egregious examples of what Pete Walker, author of “Complex PTSD” calls “the Charming Bully”.

Especially devolved fight types can become sociopathic. Sociopathy can range along a continuum that stretches from corrupt politician to vicious criminal. A particularly nasty sociopath, who I call the charming bully, probably falls somewhere around the middle of this continuum. The charming bully behaves in a friendly manner some of the time. He can even occasionally listen and be helpful in small amounts, but he still uses his contempt to overpower and control others. This type typically relies on scapegoats for the dumping of his vitriol. These unfortunate scapegoats are typically weaker than him. […] He generally spares his favorites from this behavior, unless they get out of line. If the charming bully is charismatic enough, those close to him will often fail to register the unconscionable meanness of his scapegoating. The bully’s favorites often slip into denial, relieved that they are not the target. Especially charismatic bullies may even be admired and seen as great.

These would be James Potter and Tom Riddle, who are distantly related, I might add. Harry inherited the tendency to default to the fight response, but since he grew up the scapegoat and not the golden child, he never becomes quite as appalling, and after all, a fight response is normal when they are after you. Even so, Harry, who has both James and Voldemort inside him, triggers Severus to no end. It’s not a coincidence that the memories Harry sees when he is with him are largely horrible, and vice versa. There had to be happy or at least neutral or even boring moments, but these two detest each other, and they know they detest each other. Negative emotions and associated memories are so close to the surface they can’t be contained. This is the purpose of the Pensieve in this context - to contain the emotions. Since Severus knew what was in there when he pulled Harry out, my theory is that you don’t suddenly forget the memories you placed there, but rather you make them less fraught with emotions.

“Get up!” said Snape sharply. “Get up! You are not trying, you are making no effort, you are allowing me access to memories you fear, handing me weapons!”

Harry stood up again, his heart thumping wildly as though he had really just seen Cedric dead in the graveyard. Snape looked paler than usual, and angrier, though not nearly as angry as Harry was. “I — am — making — an — effort,” he said through clenched teeth.

“I told you to empty yourself of emotion!”

“Yeah? Well, I’m finding that hard at the moment,” Harry snarled.

“Then you will find yourself easy prey for the Dark Lord!” said Snape savagely. “Fools who wear their hearts proudly on their sleeves, who cannot control their emotions, who wallow in sad memories and allow themselves to be provoked this easily — weak people, in other words — they stand no chance against his powers! He will penetrate your mind with absurd ease, Potter!”

A lot to unpack here.

“Memories you fear,” “weapons”, “easy prey”.

Fearing your own memories, viewing your own lived experiences as weapons to be used against you, being easy prey… Severus could not be speaking louder of himself here. He is the one whose mind had been penetrated with absurd ease, he is the one who handed weapons to Voldemort, and he is the one who had to do the psychological equivalent of detaching his own leg – again and again – to survive.

I’ll argue that Severus developed a fawn response and a flight response, as fighting had never really worked out for him if it was possible at all. He had at least two more people I’d describe as bullies in his life, Tobias and Lucius.

Again from Pete Walker:

These [fawn] response patterns are so deeply set in the psyche, that as adults, many codependents automatically respond to threat like dogs, symbolically rolling over on their backs, wagging their tails, hoping for a little mercy and an occasional scrap. Webster’s second entry for fawn is: “to show friendliness by licking hands, wagging its tail, etc.: said of a dog.” I find it tragic that some codependents are as loyal as dogs to even the worst “masters”.

Remember what Sirius called him? Lucius’s lapdog. Bellatrix called him Dumbledore’s pet, Dumbledore said he dangles on Voldemort’s arm, the narrative compares Snape to a rabbit in SWM and Harry compares the Half Blood Prince to a beloved pet who had gone feral (yes, this does mean a lot to me on a personal level, yes my username is not a coincidence).

His unconscious fawn response might have been his undoing, drawn as he was to figures like Lucius and Voldemort. As an adult, I think he utilized the skills he had developed to survive in order to stitch these people up, and involuntary dissociation and fawning became Occlumency, which to me, is his signature magic. Harry needed only to banish Voldemort from his mind; Severus could not settle for this. He had to give Voldemort something, and knowing how to fawn meant knowing what to give him and how to draw himself in such a light that Voldemort would believe it. We see how he wanted to be seen by the Death Eaters: a self-serving coward who sought to hide behind Dumbledore’s apron, playing his pet. But that’s Pettigrew, not Snape. Imagine the self-immolation, the self-violation, it must have taken to convince everyone that you’re an ersatz Wormtail! Snape is a man and a prince, and the text recognizes this as Harry calls him, in the end, Dumbledore’s man, the bravest man, and as that chapter is called “The Prince’s Tale”. Voldemort thought Snape was nothing more than a “good and faithful servant,” and that his last words were “My Lord”.

But Severus had an unequaled gift for Occlumency, specifically against Voldemort, because Voldemort could not legilimens what he couldn’t feel; and he couldn’t feel love, grief, guilt, and remorse. This was Severus’s secret weapon, which would not have worked against Harry - who can feel these things, and who is also Lily’s son. I can prove it. The first time Harry gets the hang of Occlumency is after Dobby dies:

His scar burned, but he was master of the pain; he felt it, yet was apart from it. He had learned control at last, learned to shut his mind to Voldemort, the very thing Dumbledore had wanted him to learn from Snape. Just as Voldemort had not been able to possess Harry while Harry was consumed with grief for Sirius, so his thoughts could not penetrate Harry now, while he mourned Dobby. Grief, it seemed, drove Voldemort out . . . though Dumbledore, of course, would have said that it was love. . . .

Harry learned to dissociate, though fortunately in a healthier way than many of us ever get to.

Of course, Snape was a good and faithful servant… to Dumbledore, which brings us to the flight response. The chapter wherein he escapes after killing Dumbledore is called “Flight of the Prince”. He should be fighting, he had just proven that he can cast a killing curse, and yet he flees. He can literally fly, in fact: He, Lily, and Voldemort are the only ones we see pulling this off.

As a child, we see this too: He copes with his home situation by reminding himself “it won’t be long and I’ll be gone.” He is thrilled when he imagines Hogwarts, his escape; he follows Lily out of the carriage instead of confronting James and Sirius head-on (which might have saved them all a lot of pain eventually). But this doesn’t work out, we see that in terrifying detail. The next attempt at an escape is joining the Death Eaters, but this too doesn’t work out.

He can’t flee anymore.

“Severus, you cannot pretend this isn’t happening!” Karkaroff’s voice sounded anxious and hushed, as though keen not to be overheard. “It’s been getting clearer and clearer for months. I am becoming seriously concerned, I can’t deny it —”

“Then flee,” said Snape’s voice curtly. “Flee — I will make your excuses. I, however, am remaining at Hogwarts.”

Shortly thereafter:

“Severus,” said Dumbledore, turning to Snape, “you know what I must ask you to do. If you are ready . . . if you are prepared . . .”

“I am,” said Snape.

He looked slightly paler than usual, and his cold, black eyes glittered strangely.

He was ready, and he was prepared. He didn’t fly; he walked toward what might well have been his end with open eyes, armed only with the strength of his mind. Before Voldemort killed him, he looked pale, again, and terrified.

“I sought a third wand, Severus. The Elder Wand, the Wand of Destiny, the Deathstick. I took it from its previous master. I took it from the grave of Albus Dumbledore.”

And now Snape looked at Voldemort, and Snape’s face was like a death mask. It was marble white and so still that when he spoke, it was a shock to see that anyone lived behind the blank eyes.

I ask myself if this was the moment he realized he had been betrayed, that by giving Dumbledore a painless death he had secured his own. Maybe he wasn’t pale because he was scared; maybe he was pale because he was shocked. He was at his absolute limit, Occluding with all his might when he could have easily saved himself. The dam is about to break. All the memories he feared, all the weapons, the entire content of his heart is about to spill through - literally.

He fawned for Voldemort, the worst of all possible masters, but in the end, he was Voldemort’s undoing. All the ways in which he was weak and powerless against Tobias, James, Lucius, et al., proved to be part of goodness and source of his power. It doesn’t surprise me in the least that Snape is so loved. I’ve never actually seen such love for any other fictional character. He represents a kind of courage that many of us need to get by, lest we simply become evil or give the fuck up (“I wish I was dead”). A kind of courage rarely celebrated. The more time I’ve spent in the fandom in general and in the Snapedom in particular, the more I am convinced of this.

#pro severus snape #snapedom #snape meta #snape love #severus snape #psychology #complex ptsd #I'm not qualified to diagnose anyone #But like #come on #sometimes JKR writes brilliance she doesn't seem to comprehend #snape #occlumency #harry potter

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greenhappyseed · 2 years

Text

BnHA Ch.341 - Review, parallels & comparisons (mostly Toga & a little fatalism edition)

Remember in the last chapter when the heroes said they would separate the villains and defeat them one by one?

Silly heroes, only having countermeasures for ONE Dabi and ONE Toga. If there are multiple Dabis, infinite Togas that blend into a crowd, and/or a city-swarming Sad Man’s Parade, it will be impossible for the heroes to separate them all. We’ve always known Twice’s quirk is a game changer — Giran knew it could be used to bring down the country, Hawks knew it could lead to the heroes’ defeat, and Skeptic knew it could be used to reanimate the dead.

Likewise……daaaaaamn Toya!!! There’s so much focus on Toya’s emotions that you (almost) forget he’s highly intelligent and perceptive. Toya is cunning and one hell of a tactician, able to set his emotions aside just for a moment during the war — as he was preparing for his broadcast!!! — to collect some of Twice’s blood for Toga because he KNEW. Just wow. This was an amazing chapter, so let’s dive in.

The chapter opens with Toga covered in blood (Carrie-style, but in the shape of Twice’s uniform) in front of red spider lilies. KnY/Demon Slayer fans out there will definitely recognize the flowers from the Season 1 ending — they symbolize death and rebirth, as well as autumn because that’s when they bloom. Also, the bulbs and flowers are poisonous. What struck me is the difference between previous Toga art, where she’s grinning deviously atop toys and knives, and here, where she’s standing with her fingers pulling at her lips. Like she’s forcing herself to smile. Like she still hasn’t washed off the trauma of the war and is not in a good headspace.

But it’s also more child-like than the MVA art, with how she’s poking her fingers in her mouth and exploring. Before, Toga was shown as an adult posing in child's clothes and accessories, while here she's covered in blood yet acting like an actual child.

Once inside her childhood bedroom, Toga muses about her “pleasant” recurring red sparrow dream, and the flowers reappear. In her dream, the sparrow dances on her stomach, rips her open (!!!), dances inside her, and leaves her stained with blood, which she thinks is cute. Previously, Toga killed and sucked the blood of a little bird as a child, and now she reveals she dreamt of the bird ripping her open and dancing inside her. As Toga had this dream, she gnawed on her own wrist and thought about wanting to be a little bird (or Kei, a mystery girl/child/object of Toga’s love???). In other words, dreaming about being torn open, covered in her own blood, and transforming into someone she loves was comforting to Toga when she lived in the home that rejected her. Others have written great metas about the LOV and their childhood homes that denied them, so I won’t go into that. :)

But! There’s still a LOT to unpack here! Sparrows often represent love, lust, and springtime. There’s also a Japanese folk tale (with similar Muslim and Christian counterparts) where the moral is, essentially, be kind to small, unassuming creatures like sparrows and in turn fate/God will be kind to you. It sounds like springtime sparrows are the opposite of the autumnal spider lily EXCEPT sparrows also can be symbols of death. If they fly inside a home, they bring an important message, often interpreted as someone nearby will die.

[TW for next 2 paragraphs: discussion of self-harm] I read this dream as Toga’s love (quirk) tearing her apart (again), exposing her insides and bleeding out “Toga” so she can be reborn as the one she loves. She consumes what she loves AND NOW we learn that her love also consumes (consumed?) her. It’s a constant cycle of death and rebirth but in a destructive way, not in a rising phoenix way. Wanting to drink blood and become others may be her “normal,” but her normal is harming her. It’s not nearly as healthy as she made it sound in MVA — here she’s explicitly tying self-harm to self-soothing as a child, and it's not clear if that destructiveness is continuing now. If so, it's very similar to Toya, whose powerful quirk leaves him increasingly burned and disfigured...meaning both of them are in dire need of help.

[NOTE: Toga is fictional. However, if you are, or are thinking about, self harming, please PLEASE ask for help. For US folks, there are sites like The Trevor Project that can connect you with a counselor. There’s also the National hotline at 1-800-273-8255.]

One of Toga’s biggest fears (and motivations) is not getting caught by authorities, so she’s not forced to hide her desires for blood, intense love, or transformation. In that sense, not only is Toya helping Toga by burning her childhood home, but he’s reassuring her worst fear here — that they won’t get caught.

Even so, Toga seems to hesitate when Toya talks about "putting an end to this rotten world". She doesn’t seem to want mass destruction of society; she doesn’t want to bring about the apocalypse. She wants someone to help her fit in AS SHE IS and live a long life. She may not want her childhood home, but she wants A home and A place that embraces her. If it's ALL destroyed, then the things she wants and likes will be destroyed too (as she said to Shigaraki in MVA). Look at how Toga hasn't smiled at all this arc, and even her glance at Twice's blood seems wistful:

At best, Toga is resigned to this being the path the LOV is on, but she's not genuinely smiling and she's not masking her trauma with smiles the way Toya is. Toya has become fully fatalistic (believing events are predetermined and inevitable) and says his only choice is whether to laugh or cry. Themes of fatalism and rebirth pop up in BnHA, with the former being "bad" and the latter being "good-ish." In particular, the character most associated with fatalism was Nighteye, a hero, who died saying he was wrong and fate can be changed. The character most associated with rebirth was Overhaul, a villain, who could reanimate the dead. He lived but lost his quirk (we think) when Shigaraki and Compress amputated his arms after Toga and Twice sabotaged him. Otherwise rebirth is associated with AFO, who clones quirks with the doctor and manufactures "the next me."

Overhaul was 200 chapters ago, so what does fatalism and rebirth matter now??? Well, I don't doubt for a second that part of Toga wants revenge for Twice's death, just as Aizawa wants payback from the LOV. If revenge is what Toga is after, then I see why fandom is fearing for Hawks (especially with the red bird dream). But reading the chapter in context, I'm not sure she wants the LAST laugh like Toya. Despite her "little late" snark, I don't think Toga is resigned to destruction the way he is. She might want to change fate.

With such heavy rebirth imagery, Toya burning her self-destructive past, Ochako supporting Izuku's promise to "bring it all back," and Toga literally holding the power of Twice in her hand.... I wonder if Toga will be the first to flip to the hero side or will be the key villain that flips at a pivotal moment. She can stop the "sad, sad parade" and give Twice a second chance (pun intended) to be the "good guy" we all know he was. Toga + Twice together can bolster the heroes' numbers and bring it all back.

Speaking of Toga not being keen on seeing things she likes be destroyed....OH MY GOD SHIGARAKI. Look how AFO is turning Shigaraki into a body that can withstand the ultimate quirk combination.

AFO's reassurance to Spinner is his normal doublespeak that is technically correct but not actually true. AFO knows a 100% Shigaraki is no longer Shigaraki, but since he's not at 100% yet he's technically still Shigaraki. As I wrote for Ch.330:

Of course, AFO didn’t just trap Star; he trapped Shiggy too. It turns out that Shigaraki at 100% isn’t just “fully powered” by AFO. At 100% they MERGE into a new being with a complete AFO quirk and liberated Decay. Now add in New Order and OFA??? Yep, this is the start of AFO controlling the singularity; the moment of no return when society changes forever. Those of you who are tech geeks may also recognize “the singularity” as the moment when computers, robots, and/or AI run society; when their intelligence exceeds all human intellect and understanding, effectively rendering humans extinct.

AFO has long been concerned with the quirk singularity because it's the only thing that threatens his goal of living forever and sampling/mixing quirks for eternity. As quirks become stronger than bodies, he needs the strongest body or else he too will fall victim to the singularity. What's amazing to me is that this is the chapter where AFO finally says the quiet part out loud. AFO is on a journey to defeat the singularity that threatens humanity because he wants to save humanity... for his own eternal manipulation. Inside his mind, AFO is his own hero. Everyone can be somebody's hero indeed.

And Spinner? Well, he doesn't seem to have much choice about becoming a hero, now does he?

#bnha spoilers #mha spoilers #bnha 341 #mha 341 #mha #my hero academia #bnha #boku no hero academia #bnha meta #mha meta #himiko toga #toga himiko #toga #afo #all for one

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missdawnandherdusk · 3 years

Text

Beautiful Ghosts

Ghost!Reader X Draco

Summary: Request: @sydthekid1518: I had an Idea for a draco fic, where y/n is a ghost that’s fairly popular with the students and staff, and draco falls for her and stuff? And then maybe y/n and Harry create a plan that would allow reader to come back to life and stuff and be with draco.

A/N: Happy spooky season to all and to all a good night filled with Draco Malfoy. I’m so excited about how this turned out and that I got it done before Halloween because the odds weren’t looking to hot not gonna lie, but here it is and it’s beautiful. As always, let me know what y’all think,,,

“Y/n, please don’t disturb my students,” Snape droned with a monotone voice.

“You’ve got no power over me, Severus,” I laughed, ghosting away from his Slytherins working on Polyjuice potion.

“But I do have control in this classroom, dead or not Miss Y/n, this is my domain,” Snape argued, ruffled.

“I’m eternally bonded to this school. It’s my domain more than it is yours,” I countered, perched on his desk.

“Blasted ghosts,” A boy muttered, catching my attention, “No respect for authority,”

Tilting my head, I made my way over to him, studying the young Slytherin. He was about the age that I was when I had died, moved on, crossed the veil—whatever. His steady grey eyes and twisted sneer told me all that I needed to know about him.

“Another Malfoy,” I mused. “Interesting... And where’s your respect for the dead Mr. Malfoy?”

His eyes went wide at the idea that I was addressing him at all. Like I spooked him. Imagine that, a ghost spooking someone.

“Enough Ms. Y/n. Kindly refrain from scaring my students if you must stay,” Snape intervened. “I’m not scared,” Malfoy shot back.

“Boo!” I teased before passing through the walls of the dungeon and into my favorite spot in the entire castle, even living: the library.

I never had so much time on my hands before being dead, and now I could just take a book and read. Pince had been able to enchant them in such a way that I was able to hold them and turn their pages still. I was in the middle of a riveting tale about a boy who never grew up and had his destiny forced upon him and could fly. Perched on one of the tops of the shelves, I was lost in another world of magic.

“I didn’t know you could read,” I heard the same condescending voice from Severus’ potions class earlier that day.

“Little Malfoy,” I smiled down at him, closing my book. “And why would you assume that? I don’t look that stupid, do I?”

“Well, no,” He fumbled. “But you’re a ghost, you’re dead,”

“Yes, and I like to read, anything else?” I raised an eyebrow at him.

“Don’t call me little Malfoy. My name’s Draco,” He huffed.

“But it annoys you,” I mocked a pout. “And you are a little Malfoy, a bit taller than your father, but young all the same,”

“Who are you calling young? We’re the same age,” His voice raised enough that Pince had to shush him.

“I was born in 1776, I think you’re a little young,”

“1776!?” Draco’s eyes bulged. “But... how? You’re...” Pince hushed him again. I floated down and perched on the desk, trying and failing to contain my laughter.

“Oh, so now you care little Malfoy?” I teased lightly. “What happened to your dismissal of spirits not hours ago?” He didn’t have an answer for that. He just stared and didn’t dare to meet my eyes. “If you really want to know, I’ll tell you some time, but you’re going to be late for McGonagall if you don’t get going,”

Flustered, Draco headed out of the library and I watched him go. Knowing that Remus had a class this hour with the infamous Harry Potter, I headed over and perched on a desk in the back.

“Miss Y/n,” Remus acknowledged, “Perhaps you’d like to aid us today as we learn about ghosts and spirits?” Even though he had grown quite a bit over the years, there was still the same shine in his eyes when he was able to teach—even if it wasn’t a rag-tag group of marauders.

“So... you’re a ghost?” A young Hermione asked, a girl who spent a lot of hours in my library.

“Yes,” I smiled at her. “There are different types of ghosts however,”

“Oh, yes, Poltergeists, Funnels, Whisps, Orbs, and Shades,” She said matter-of-factly.

“Exactly, and Hogwarts has them all,” I looked to Remus who nodded for me to continue. “Most of you know that Peeves is a Poltergeist, a trickster loud ghost. Sometimes they were loud and violent, sometimes... well sometimes you have something like Peeves.” The class laughed.

“I’m sure you all have heard of the Grey Lady?” Remus interjected. “Helena Ravenclaw was murdered by the Bloody Baron and spends the rest of her days here at Hogwarts, they are both what we classify as Funnel ghosts. Ghosts who visit loved ones or loved places,”

“What about Whisps?” An intrigued Weasley asked.

“Well, most others are Whisps,” I explained. “Nearly Headless Nick, the Fat Friar, and most others you see strolling about. There is no strict reason that they’re here, other than they chose not to move on, or felt their work on earth was not completed.”

“Orbs are normally the spirits of animals or humans travelling about,” I continued, “They mainly show up in photographs. It wasn’t till after I died that cameras were invented, and they were found,”

“Any what kind of ghost are you?” A shy kid in the back asked. The class of kids turned to me, all expectant.

“I’m a Shade,” I explained. “It means that when I died, I wasn’t meant to. My soul knowing that, remained, and here I am,”

“Shades are very rare in the Wizarding World,” Remus cut in, “Not many are killed before their time, and many of them are very young,”

“Aren’t Shades allowed to come back though?” Hermione asked. “Because they were wrongfully killed? Doesn’t fate allow them another chance?”

Remus and I shared a look. I remembered when he had asked me that same question when he was no more than a third year as well. There was a solemn sorrow in his eyes.

“Yes,” I answered hesitantly. “There is a possibility, but the odds are almost impossible. Most of them have to do around prophecies.”

Class had ended, and Hermione waved as she went to leave. I lingered behind a bit with Remus for old times’ sake. He was one who had always been kind to me. I was one who never judged him for being a werewolf before he found his marauders.

“Sirius escaped from Azkaban,” He whispered softly, his gaze fixed on the papers on his desk. “I... I thought I was over it. Over him. He had my best friends killed,”

Pity flooded my chest as I hovered over to him, my hand ghosting above his.

“That wasn’t your fault Remus...” Was I going to give away the truth that I knew? Or would I keep it a secret? “And it wasn’t Sirius’ either,”

“How can you say that!” Remus slammed his hand on the desk. “He gave away Lily and James’ location! Then he killed Peter!”

“Remus,” I shook my head. “I can’t tell you everything, because it’s not in the stars, but... your friend isn’t who you think he is,”

A quiet moment passed between us and rather than get upset at me like I had thought he would, he spoke softly and surely.

“You’re... you’re saying there’s hope?”

“There’s always hope,” I offered a soft smile. “For all of us... even me,”

“How are you doing with that? The prophecy?” He asked.

I sighed and shook my head. “I might really be stuck like this for the rest of... forever...”

“Is there anything...?”

“No,” I denied softly. “Interfering with a prophecy can ruin it,”

“Can,” Remus stressed. “Not that it will,”

“But is it worth that risk?” I countered. “I could lose my one shot to come back. To be human again,”

“If I could be human again, I’d take any chance I could,” Remus’ eyes held a sadness that very few could sympathize with. One of those was me.

“Perhaps you’re right,” I murmured and let him be, drifting around the halls for a bit then back to the library to think some more and maybe find the right answer.

What I didn’t expect to find however was Draco, fast asleep where we had spoken earlier, draped over a few books and handwritten notes. I hadn’t noticed the late hour, sometimes time did elude me, and the days seemed to run together.

I didn’t want to wake the young Malfoy, instead, I peered at the books underneath him. Potions books, it seemed. Supposing that a Slytherin might have a partiality to Snape’s class, there was no need to question why he’d rather work on this subject than the others. Knowing Pince would chase Draco out of the library if he didn’t wake, my notion to not disturb him fell to the wayside.

“Malfoy!” I whispered loudly. “Draco, wake up!”

It was useless to try and shake him awake, I wasn’t able to. I could however pull the book out from under his resting head. So, I did.

“Bloody hell,” Draco grumbled, rubbing his eyes. “What’d you do that for?”

“You fell asleep?”

“And that was the only way you know how to wake a person?” He snapped, blinking into consciousness.

I gave him a flat look and reached out to touch him. He shied away, but it was in vain because my hand passed right through his material body.

“Oh,” He muttered. “But you can touch the books?”

“Pince and I worked on that together,” I informed him. “Did you think I would spend eternity and not figure out how to read?”

“I... uh,” He stammered, blushing a bit. “How come I’ve never met a ghost like you before?”

“And that means?” I pressed, perching on the desk.

“Well, all of the other ghosts are... I don’t know... stuck in their ways? Not sad about being ghosts? Haven’t kept up on things like reading?”

“You think I’m sad about being a ghost?” I mused.

“I... you—I mean,” He stammered, looking down in embarrassment. “You just seem... optimistically hopeless,” It was almost mumbled through his exhaustion.

“You know those words have opposite meaning, right?” I teased softly. “And... I’m a Shade. I doubt you’ve met another before like me,”

“A Shade?”

“Do you not pay attention in Remus’ class?” I raised an eyebrow at him.

“I don’t have his class until tomorrow,” Draco dismayed. “And it’s a stupid class anyway,”

“Defense against the dark arts isn’t stupid,” I refuted. “Especially with Remus teaching it,”

“You knew him then... when he went here. Professor Lupin,” Draco noted.

“Yes,” Lost in thought, a quietness passed before I spoke again. “When you learn what a Shade is, you’ll understand,”

“You could just tell me,” Draco whined, listlessly tired.

“But then you won’t pay attention in class,” I smiled. “Go on to bed, Draco. I’m not going anywhere,”

____________________________

Draco sulked in bed that night, thinking about you. Thinking about what a Shade was. Of course, he didn’t wait for class in the morning, instead he took out his DADA book and began to read up on ghosts. And he read. And read. And read. And barely found anything about what a Shade was. All that he knew was that you died when before your time. Maybe that was why he saw the sadness in your eyes.

He had every intention to be at Lupin’s class that day, but having Mythical Creatures beforehand, things hadn’t gone as planned.

“There’s always one,” Your voice sounded amused. “Why am I not surprised it was you, Little Malfoy?”

“It was the bloody hippogriff,” Draco snapped back.

“And somehow I don’t think that’s the entire truth,” You mused, hovering at his bedside. Until Pomfrey gave him the clear to leave, he was stuck with you.

“Won’t you just leave me alone?” He groaned, closing his eyes and laying back on the lumpy pillows of the hospital cot.

“Did you not want to learn about Shades? You’re going to miss Remus’ class after all,” The smile he heard in your voice made him look over to you, skeptical.

Your offer was tempting. Very tempting. He didn’t care much about magic other than excelling at it, therefore things that didn’t pertain to his advancement—mythical creatures and the like— held no inkling to him. And yet, you were a mystery he didn’t mind learning about. He wanted to know more about you. And you specifically.

“I guess, since I’m stuck here,” He tried to play it off as nonchalance, but you raised an eyebrow at him, seeing right through his charade.

“Well, Little Malfoy,” You hovered and perched on the end of his bed. “What do you know?”

“I... uh. Shades are people who have died before their time,” He stammered, not sure why he was so nervous.

“Quite,” You nodded. “Anything else?”

“Our book didn’t have anything else,” He admitted.

You went pensive a moment then nodded. “I suppose that you’d learn more about me in Divination than the Dark Arts,”

“Divination? You’ve got to be bloody joking! That class is a circus!” Draco exclaimed, wincing when he moved his arm too much.

“Perhaps,” You didn’t berate him, but seemed to be lost in thought once more. “But all Shades are tied to prophecies.”

“All of them?” Draco pressed.

“The fates understand that these souls left before their time, and give them another chance, a prophecy... to come back and live one more time.”

“So, you have the chance to live again?” His genuine curiosity seemed to shock both of you. “How?”

“If the prophecy is fulfilled, then I get to live again,” You said it as if it were obvious.

“So, why haven’t you, I don’t know... fulfilled it?” Draco asked.

You laughed something sad and soft. “Don’t you think I’ve tried? I’ve read every prophecy, every book, every scribble. I’ve tried everything... after so many centuries, you give up hope and accept your fate,”

“But this wasn’t your fate,” He argued back. “You were meant to live, back then, whatever that life was,”

“Do you know what happened when I was young, before I died, Little Malfoy?” You spoke, and he could hear the age in your voice though you liked no older than he was. It was your sorrow that aged you. He waited for you to continue. “I was born in 1776, the year the Americans went to war with the King of England. At the time we were living in the French countryside with my aunt because my father had gone to fight in the war. He was a general,” A smile ghosted your lips. “My father died in the war... the battle of Yorktown... that’s what it’s called today. Back then it was just a letter and inheritance money that went to my brother,”

“Hang on, you’re saying that your father fought in the American War of Independence? Under the king?”

“So, he can be taught,” You smiled at him. “Yes, the king at the time was a wizard and until parliament and the ministry were born and declared that muggles and wizards should rule themselves. Of course, the ministry was formed in the beginning of that century, but it took the war for them to call the final straw.”

“So, your father died in the war, that doesn’t explain what happened to you,” Draco pointed out, deeply invested.

“Well, tell me, what happened in France after that war ended?”

“The French Revolution,”

Your warm smile had the same effect as the sun. “Yes, and as I said, I was in France at the time, being tutored at home for the summer. Muggle girls weren’t allowed to go to school back then... I travelled to Hogwarts to receive schooling and even then, I was only allowed to learn Herbology and Potions. At least those two classes stayed the same,” You sounded sad and wistful. “But the revolutionists were going for the rich, any sort of rich. And at the time, they saw knowledge as wealth and power, and I had a reputation for being able to read and attending a private school out of the country and well...”

“They killed you because you knew how to read?” Draco distressed, sitting up, enraptured by your tale. “That’s so... stupid,”

“It was. But perhaps it was my own fault, I wouldn’t deny that I could read. I was proud.” Your smile faded again as melancholy settled on your face. “Now it seems that’s all I do. Fate is funny like that...”

“You’re free to go Mr. Malfoy,” Madam Pomfrey’s voice seemed to draw you both from whatever world had been created with your words.

He had to blink a few times to come to grips with the fact that he was currently in the hospital wing at Hogwarts, and not centuries behind, trying to imagine death for the reason of knowledge. There was an awkward moment between the two of you as you both seemed to realize that you were no longer int eh late eighteenth century. You offered a smile and left without another word, a curious look on your face as you left.

That was the last time he saw you that day, and that week for that matter, but he always wondered what you were doing. What were you reading today? What was your prophecy? Was it really as hopeless as you said it was? Was there a reason that he found himself caring?

______________________

“Oh, hello Harry,” I stood from the corner of Remus’ office, intrigued that the young Potter had come. He looked so much like his father that my heart ached for Remus and to imagine what he felt when he saw Harry.

“Y/n,” Harry seemed surprised. “I... uh... you know Professor Lupin?”

“Well I was here when he went to Hogwarts himself, so yes, I’m quite fond of him if you can believe it,” I smiled as Remus eyed the situation.

“Is there something that you needed Harry?” Remus asked, trying to sound professional, but I could hear the sentiment in his voice.

“The map...” Harry turned slightly pink.

A smile grew on my face. “You have the Marauder’s Map?” I almost laughed. “How in the world did you get that? Oh, if your father knew,” I did laugh this time.

Remus shot me a sharp look and Harry looked at me in wonder.

“My father? You knew my father?” The realization seemed to dawn him.

“Yes, well,” Remus interjected sharply. “Don’t get caught again Potter,”

“Why haven’t you told him?” I demanded as soon as Harry left. “Remus, come on, that’s not fair to Harry,”

“I’m not the one to tell him though! I can’t be!” He protested and I could hear the anxiety in his voice.

“Remus, I’ve known you a long time. And I’ve known James and Lily. They would want you to talk to him. They would want you apart of his life,” I argued, or perhaps encouraged softly.

“Maybe you’re right,” Remus mumbled.

“Of course, I am,” I smiled. “It’ll work out Re, with Sirius, and with Harry,”

“I hope you’re right,”

I left him to his thoughts and on my way to the library, I was ambushed by the younger Potter. Not that I wasn’t expecting it, I knew that Harry would have questions for me as soon as he knew I knew his father.

“Hello Harry,” I smiled.

“You know about my dad,” He burst out, hope in his eyes and tone.

“And your mother,” I smiled and perched on the windowsill nearby.

“Can you tell me about them? Please?” His eyes went glossy with tears that he blinked away.

“Your mother was bold, but still kind and gentle. She looked out for the little guy. She rooted for the underdog and protected the younger years of any House. She was always kind to me. Her and Remus both.” The memory was fond, if it was a memory. Did ghosts have memories after they were dead?

“And my dad?” He clung to every word.

“He... was a bit like you. Always finding trouble whether it was his fault or not. Totally deserved to be smacked a few times... but the war changed him. He grew up rather quickly. Into a protective caring young man. Almost everyone had eyes for him, but he only saw your mother,”

“Do... you think they would be proud of me?” His gaze dropped to his beat-up sneakers.

“Harry,” I called his attention. “You’re their son, they’ll always be proud of you,”

“But—”

“No buts,” I interjected. “That’s all it takes for you to make them proud, I promise,”

He nodded and mumbled a thanks before taking off toward the Gryffindor dorm. Finding solace in the library, I began to read again. Maybe a week had passed. Perhaps two. I wasn’t sure. I was so wrapped up in my books that I became lost to time. Until a blond-haired boy came in, his nose stuck in a book.

“I was wondering when I’d see you again Little Malfoy,” I smiled, from my perch in the library. He didn’t acknowledge me, causing me to frown. “Draco?” I ghosted down and perched on the table next to him. “Are you ghosting a ghost?”

Though he ignored me I could see the smile that twitched at his lips. That gave me little hope. “Is everything alright?” I asked, genuine concern coloring my voice.

“Ask Potter,” Draco snapped. “You seem to fancy him lately,”

“Excuse me?” I was taken aback. “Harry? He just wanted to know about his parents, that’s all,”

Draco frowned at this and he finally looked at me. “His parents?”

“Yes,” I rolled my eyes. “It’s not like he has a lot of people who know his parents and are willing to tell him anything. Dumbledore has made almost everyone vow not to talk to him, but what good is a vow to someone who’s already in the grave?” I shrugged. “Poor kid knows nothing,”

“I...” Draco didn’t seem to have the words. Instead he looked back down at his book. I smiled and rolled my eyes at his antics.

“If you care that much, you are still my favorite Little Malfoy,” His cheeks tinged pink and I laughed. “You’re something else Malfoy, you know that?”

“Says the girl who died for admitting that she could read instead of lying,” He raised an eyebrow at me. I chuckled and shrugged.

“Says the boy who avoided me for what, two weeks, because I talked to a boy about his dead parents,” I mused.

“It wasn’t two weeks,” Draco grumbled. “Nine days,”

“Oh, forgive me,” I laughed. “Nine days.”

He smiled and looked back down at his notes. I think it was the first time I had ever seen him smile and not sneer.

“So, nine days,” He prompted. “I assume you haven’t left the library... read anything interesting?”

I laughed and somehow the hours passed as Draco and I spoke about books and stories we had read as kids, and the ones we were currently invested in. It shocked me to know that he was an avid reader, of fantasy novels, nonetheless. Though I had read just about everyone that he had mentioned, there were a few that I added to my mental list of his that I said I would check out. He seemed sincerely happy at my interest of the books he read.

“Father thought they were childish,” He muttered when I asked him about it. “Fairytales and fantasies,”

“That’s stupid,” I scoffed, and Draco gaped at me, aghast that I would dare to call something his father said ‘stupid.’ It made me pause. “You... you know you don’t have to always agree with your parents,”

His gaze cast downward. “I don’t want to disappoint them,”

My face furrowed. “You’re they’re son, that’s enough for them to be proud,”

“You don’t know my parents,” He scoffed, leaning back in his chair. “I think the last time they were proud of me, is when I was sorted into Slytherin.”

“I’m sure that’s not true,” I protested.

“You don’t know my parents,” Draco argued again.

“I do,” I retorted. “Or I did,”

The notion seemed to dawn on Draco as he stared up at me with wonder in his eyes.

“You did,” He realized. “Can you tell me about them... have they always been so...”

“Strict?” I offered.

“Suffocating,” Draco supplied.

I pressed my lips together and thought a moment.

“Your father, perhaps. I never spoke to him much, and he never paid me mind. But you mother,” I smiled at the memories that came flooding back. “She was bold, cunning. She loved her sisters with a fierce passion.” My smile. “The three of them were some of the brightest witches I’d ever seen,” I glanced over to him. “You have her eyes, her same spirit,”

A smile drew on his lips as his face turned a soft shade of pink. “Do you know that because you’re a ghost?” He mused.

“No, I’m just a girl who can read character pretty well. After seeing so many faces pass through here, and reading so many stories, there are those who stand out and stay with you. Your mother... she stood out to me. And I can see her in your eyes,” My demeanor softened as I realized the words I was saying and if I could have, I would have blushed.

“Thank you,” He whispered as the clock chimed a late hour.

“You should head back,” I sighed softly. “Get some rest,”

“Why don’t I ever see you near the Slytherin dorm?” Draco asked, gathering his things.

“I’d rather not cross paths with the Baron,” I admitted.

“The Baron? Why?” Draco frowned; his bag slung over his shoulder.

“Never you mind,” I smiled. “Get to bed Little Malfoy,”

“Don’t call me that,” He grumbled, trudging out of the library.

The night progressed as did the month and I went from one book to another, soon searching for a book I hadn’t in a long time. My diary from when I was alive. Published as its own book that I had found a few decades ago. Tucked into the pages was what held my fate. My prophecy.

I went to the shelf in which I knew my book had its home, but it wasn’t there. Instead a sliver of time carved away by my missing book. Drifting over to Pince I asked her about where my book had gone. She told me that Malfoy had checked it out and had it for about a week—since the day we spent in the infirmary together.

For the first time in a long time I felt... embarrassed that my story and thoughts were on display for anyone to read. I never cared before, but this felt different.

Cursing the late hour, I knew that there was no way to get to Draco now. The Bloody Baron was protective about other ghosts coming into the Slytherin dorms. I’d have to find him in the morning then. I considered loitering outside the Slytherin portrait, but I also did not want to go anywhere near the Bloody Baron. I had heard and read enough.

So instead I headed to the Astronomy Tower to watch the stars again, having silent conversations with them, wondering if they’d ever grant me life again.

“You’re glowing,”

The voice startled me enough that I actually jumped. The irony of scaring a ghost. I turned to see Draco behind me, his eyes glued to my shimmering skin.

“Yes, all ghosts do it under the moon and stars,” I noted. “By the way, can I have my book back?” I stood, going over to him.

“Your book?” He questioned.

“My book,” I restressed. “My diary? That you have from the library? The one that has my—” I stopped myself.

“Your prophecy.” Draco finished, offering me the book that he had drawn from his robes. “Yeah, I know.”

I stared at him curiously, pulling the book back into the security of my arms, where it belonged. That uncertain feeling returned to my chest.

“You know it’s rude to read a girl’s diary,” I retorted, defensive.

“It’s a published book in the library, anyone can read it,” Draco rolled his eyes. I gave him a flat look and he shifted his weight from one foot to the other. “So, have you figured out what it means?”

I sighed softly and shook my head in defeat. “The only thing I’m sure of is the great star is Sirius,”

“Sirius, like Sirius Black? Escaped Azkaban criminal?” Draco exasperated.

“Well, the star is his name sake. But I’m sure you of all people know that Draco,” I raised an eyebrow at him. “Your family has a knack for celestial namesakes. If I remember correctly, Sirius is your mother’s cousin,”

“What?” Draco demanded. “No! There is no way!”

“Draco,” I reached out for him in vain as he paced in anger and confusion. “Draco will you calm down?” I nearly shouted.

“Calm down!? How can I when I know that I’m related to that criminal!?” He demanded.

“Sirius isn’t a criminal!” I argued back. “He didn’t kill Peter or those people!” I gasped, covering my mouth in shame, my eyes wide. That was a secret that I wasn’t supposed to tell.

“What do you mean he didn’t kill those people?” Draco sneered, stalking up to me.

“I—I’m not supposed to...” I took a step back, ghostly tears welling in my eyes. “I wasn’t supposed to... Merlin,” I cried, sliding to the ground.

Draco’s demeanor changed from anger to worried and concerned. Not that I noticed through my distress. I felt as if I had just betrayed one of my best friends.

“Y/n, what... what in the world are you talking about?” Draco asked sitting beside me, a failed attempt to reach out and comfort me.

“I promised. I promised I wouldn’t tell what I knew until the time was right,” I sobbed. “Bloody hell, he’ll never trust me again,” I squeaked.

“Who?” Draco demanded.

I looked at him, wide eyed with fear, shaking my head softly. “I... I can’t. I’m sorry Draco,”

I dematerialized and rematerialized in a quiet portion of the castle grounds, away from the rest of the students, among the woods. The trees welcomed me and the further I walked in, the less tied to the castle I felt. I came to a lake and sat beside it. Crying tears that would never fall in my undead state, I stared at the water and my lack of reflection.

“I’m so sorry Sirius,” I wept softly. “I didn’t mean to tell him... I was just defending you,”

“I’m surprised you kept the secret this long,”

Again, I jumped, startled by the voice behind me.

“Hey there Spooks,” Sirius gave a lopsided smile, the years in Azkaban resting in his eyes and in the lines on his face.

“Sirius,” I gasped. “What are you doing? It’s not safe here!” I protested.

“I couldn’t leave my girl to cry, now could I?” He smirked, before his expression sobered.

“You should,” I sniffed. “I’m so sorry Sirius, it slipped out,”

“I know,” He held his hands up in a calming effort. “I knew it would, and it’s okay. Who did you tell? It wasn’t Moony was it?”

“No,” I looked down. “But you need to tell him Sirius, he deserves to know,”

“He won’t even talk to me. He thinks that I betrayed James and Lily and killed all of his friends,” Sirius toed at the dirt—the same tick he had in his Hogwarts years when he had been caught in a lie or prank.

“But you didn’t,” I protested. “He still loves you Sirius, I can see it in his eyes and when he talks about you and James...”

“He—no,” Sirius shook his head. “That’s not for you to worry about,”

“Do not make me mother you,” I threatened. “Talk to Remus,”

“I will,” Sirius sighed. “When the time is right,”

“As a girl who’s waited for centuries for the right time... talk to him as soon as you can,” There was a pity-filled look on his face that I brushed off.

“Any luck with that? Your prophecy?” He seemed almost hopeful.

“No,” I sighed. “But there is one who took the time to ask this year. Like Remus did his first year,” The memory was a soft spot for both of us.

“You were his first friend,” Sirius smiled at the same memory. “So, who is it this year?”

“Little Malfoy,”

Sirius snorted. “We both know you don’t have a sense of humor, drop the act,”

“I’m ser—” He gave me a look and I paused to rephrase. “I’m telling the truth. It was Draco who asked, who read my diary, and knows about the prophecy,” I hesitated. “He’s also the one I told,” My gaze dropped to the ground waiting for the backlash.

“Malfoy!?” Sirius demanded. “You told Malfoy!?”

“I’m sorry! I told you I was sorry!” I shouted back, bristling, feeling my body shudder. Sirius seemed to notice and took a few paces away and composed himself.

I dared to speak. “All he knows is that you didn’t kill Peter. That’s all. I’m so sorry Sirius,” I turned, and he was gone. “Fine! Leave!” I shouted. “Like always... like everyone...”

I let out a scream of frustration that was carried away with the wind. Letting out a sigh of defeat I wandered up to the castle again.

“Y/n?” For the third time tonight, I jumped at the call of my name. It was Draco again.

“Draco, look,” I started. “I...”

“No,” He stopped me softly. “I’m sorry... I...” He shook his head and took off down the hall towards the Slytherin dorms. Chasing after him, he was too far gone, and I was face to face with the Baron.

“Oh, could this night get any worse?” I shouted to no one in particular. “I don’t mean to trespass, apologies.”

“Stay out of my territory and away from my students, you little harlot,” The Baron sneered.

“Gladly,” I growled back. “Arse,” I muttered as I ghosted back to the upper levels of the castle.

Utterly lost on what to do, I found myself by the Black Lake, staring up at the moon and stars. I stayed there until the sun rose over the dark waters, painting the valleys in a golden light. I remained there, watching the sun and moon dance in the sky in an unchangeable waltz that continued for eternity.

“They said you were out here,”

I didn’t jump this time at the sound of his voice as the moon rose to her duet again.

“Hello, Draco,” I murmured softly. “Come to watch the stars with me?”

“Sure,” I could hear the smile in his voice as he sat beside me on the bank of the lake, the only sound was the music of the night, the lake lapping at the small beach, and his gentle breaths.

“I... I’m really sorry,” He murmured softly. “For that night, I didn’t mean to get so angry. I wasn’t upset with you...” Silence fell softly between us. “My parents never told me... I wrote to my mother...” My eyes widened as I gazed over at him, his pale skin almost having the same affect that mine did in the moon light. “I never knew...”

“I’m sorry,” I offered.

“Merlin don’t apologize to me,” He laughed hopelessly.

“Well I did sort of freak out on you, so... sorry.”

He shrugged and his gaze fixed on the moonlit water. “My father thinks it’s absurd that I’m talking to you... and I think my mother is slightly worried about me for it,”

“Any particular reason?” I mused.

“Father has always been against those different than him in any way... my mother probably worries that I’m not making friends...talking to ghosts...” A smile toyed at his lips at the mention of his mother.

“Are we not friends then?” I teased lightly, causing him to laugh.

“Sure,” He rolled his eyes at me, this time causing me to laugh. “Do you miss them?” He asked after a quiet moment.

“Who?”

“Your parents... your family?” He seemed almost afraid to ask.

I pondered the question. “Yes, sometimes... but I’ve spent a lot of years wasting tears that will never fall over people I can never see again... you move on and learn to live after a while... well as much as a ghost can live,”

“You can’t cry, can you?” He came to the fact easier and saner than most did.

I shook my head. “I can feel bitter sorrow, the worst loss, but I can never shed a tear,” I chuckled humorlessly. “The irony, I have the most to mourn and I can’t even cry,”

“I’m sorry,”

I shrugged. “I’ve lived a long time without being able to cry... just reminds me that I’ll never be quite human again,”

“But you could be,” He had more hope than I ever had about the fact.

“Yeah,” I scoffed. “That stupid prophecy,”

“I don’t think it’s stupid,”

“You’ve haven’t spent centuries wondering what it meant,” I argued back:

“In the days when evil lurks around every corner;

The condemned will become innocent;

And the innocent will become condemned;

True love can reanimate a deceased heart;

Under the star of Great Dog;

She will become alive as time is altered;

Two souls will be set free that day as the star takes her place.”

“True love,” I scoffed again; my lips pressed together. “Like some sort of stupid fairytale,”

“I thought you said that fairytales weren’t stupid,” Draco raised an eyebrow at me smirking.

“They’re not,” I rolled my eyes. “Believing that there’s true love out there to save me? That’s stupid,”

“Then maybe there’s no hope for any of us,” Draco sighed. “If someone like you can’t find true love, where’s the hope for the rest of us,”

A smile ghosted me lips at his words as I looked over to him, his eyes still trained on the water.

“You’re really sweet sometimes, you know that Malfoy?” His eyes darted to mine as his cheeks tinged pink.

“Will you come back inside?” He asked softly. “The library isn’t as interesting without you there,”

“Sure,” I smiled warmly at him.

Fall turned to winter turned to spring, and Draco and I spent a lot more time together than I cared to admit. He was almost easier to talk to than anyone else I had met. And that was saying something, because I knew Remus Lupin, who was fascinated with my fascination of the young Malfoy.

But all the same, I found myself crave Draco’s company more and more and cursing the Baron for not letting me see him while he was in his dorm. It was rough when he came down with a cold and I wasn’t able to see him for a week. No number of books could distract me from the fact that he wasn’t there to talk to. That he wasn’t here to talk to me. I had never missed anyone like this before.

But when he felt better, we’d press curfew to mere minutes just to get another word in with each other. Then he’d have to be human and I’d have to remember that I didn’t belong in his world and never could. It didn’t stop me, however, from finding and talking to him the next day. Or the day after that. Or the day after that.

Then there was a day in late spring that caught my attention as Sirius had finally gotten to Harry and his friends, but things had gone from bad to worse as I watched the scene unfold, doing the only thing I could think of, I spirited away to find Remus. He would know what to do, he would know how to help.

After I had explained what I had seen, Remus grabbed his wand and took off towards the Whomping Willow. I followed him, and as soon as I left the castle, I felt the dark presence of the dementors around me.

“No!” I shouted, going up to meet them, and for the first time in a long time gave into my spiritual power, long enough to hold them off and let Remus pass through safely.

I hovered over the Shrieking Shack, keeping the dementors as bay, away from Sirius, away from Remus. They didn’t dare to go near my pure light that was amplified by the full moon. Soon I saw the three of them emerge, Peter in chains, when the light of the full moon hit my little Remus.

With a cry of desperation, I did my best to keep the dementors away as I watched the horrors unfold before me before I couldn’t take it any long and chased after Remus, who was not a wolf into the wood.

“Remus!?” I shouted; my voice lost with the wind. “Remus, it’s me! Please come out!” I caught sight of Hermione and Harry and gestured that they should leave, and quickly. “Remus!?”

I heard a growl and turned, seeing golden scared eyes.

“Hey,” I cooed softly. “You’re alright, you can’t hurt me,”

A pained howl left his lips.

“I know,” I replied. “But you’re going to be alright, let get you back, yeah? To Prongs and Pads, they’re waiting for you.” Tears I wanted to cry weren’t shed at the pitiful heartbreaking whine that left his lips.

But he let me lead him back to the Shrieking Shack all the same. I stayed with him until McGonagall and Dumbledore came. There was a soft thank you from the both of them. I drifted back to the castle, pacing in anxiety.

“Y/n?” It was Draco’s voice. I turned.

“Draco, it’s not safe!” I squeaked. “What are you doing out of bed!?”

“I had to see you,” He confessed. “There are rumors, about Black and Lupin... I thought you’d... Are you alright?”

“Draco, really,” I glanced around, cursing that I couldn’t drag him inside to where it was safer. “It’s not safe for you out here,”

“Bloody hell, Y/n, what about you!?”

“I’m already dead! So, unless you’d like to join me!” I shouted, realizing after the fact what I had said. “Draco, I didn’t mean that,”

“You’re keeping things from me,” It was a broken accusation. “About Sirius, about Remus,”

“Draco, please,” I pulled away. “I... I have to go, I have to make sure that he’s alright,” My eyes trailed up to the top of the tower, knowing that I may have been the reason that Sirius was in chains again.

“No!” Draco shouted, drawing my attention.

He had never demanded anything of me before, not like this. It wasn’t the fact that he told me to stop, it was the notion that he had found his own voice in it that caused me to pause. I waited for him to continue.

“I’ve spent all year, all of my three years here, knowing you, and getting to know you and I’m not going to let you walk away again! I want to know! I don’t want this you can’t tell me act. If anyone, you can tell me. Can’t you trust me? Please,” His voice broke, unshed tears in his eyes.

“Draco,” My non-material heart broke a bit as he stood before me, vulnerable. Shaking and terrified I nodded. “Remus... is a werewolf. Sirius is an Animagus. Peter betrayed the Potters, and Sirius went to confront him. Peter faked his death and killed all those people and it was blamed on Sirius...” In my nervousness I began to ramble:

“...and Sirius and Remus confronted Peter tonight and Harry and his friends were there and I had to fight off dementors so that Sirius would be okay because I couldn’t bear to see him get hurt for something he didn’t do and then I had to go and help Remus because it’s a full moon and he won’t hurt me but for the love of merlin he will hurt you so will you please go inside!”

Draco gaped at me, in utter disbelief.

“Please Draco, go inside,”

“Only if you come with me,” He recovered.

My thoughts for Sirius were forgotten as I took a step closer to him. Instead, all I could see and focus on was the heartbreak on his face and the hand that he held out for me. A hand that I wanted to accept but knew that I couldn’t because I would phase right through him. Never had I loathed being dead so much but in that moment when all I wanted to do was comfort him.

For the first time in almost two hundred years, tears slid down my cheeks. I barely noticed.

“Please,” His voice shook as did his hand as it remained extended to me. “Please, Y/n,”

The moon fell behind the mountains as the sun shed her first light onto us.

And with reckless abandon, I reached out for him, for his hand. In desperation and false hope, closing my eyes, knowing my heart would never break more that in the next few moments for not being a part of his world.

Then my hand felt softness and warmth.

I gasped and jerked back, and Draco seemed to realize this as I did.

“You just...” He stammered.

“I...” Trembling, I held my hand up, the sunlight no longer passing through it but refracting off of it. I finally reached up and felt the wetness of tears on my cheeks as I gasped in pure joy.

“I’m human,” I laughed, “I’m human!” I marveled at my rosy skin and the soft green fabric of my dress as I felt the grass beneath my feet. After a moment, I, at last, looked to Draco, who seemed to be frozen in a state of wonder and disbelief, and almost... scared.

“Draco,” I called softly, “It’s me,” I offered my hand to him, the grin not leaving my face.

“You’re... and...”

I nodded and smiled, taking a step closer to him. “Not scared of ghosts, are you?” I teased softly.

He finally laughed and took my hand, pulling me close, into the comfort of his arms. I began to cry again because for the first time in two hundred and fifty years, I was hugged. I clung to him, my fingers marveling at the softness of his shirt, trailing up into his hair.

“Merlin,” Draco pulled away softly. “You have no idea how long I’ve been waiting for this,”

Before I could ask him what he meant—or argue that I had been waiting longer than he ever had—he pressed his lips to mine, and in that moment, I swear I could have died all over again in his arms.

In the days when evil lurks around every corner,

The condemned will become innocent,

And the innocent will become condemned.

True love can reanimate a deceased heart,

Under the star of Great Dog,

She will become alive as time is altered;

Two souls will be set free that day as the star takes her place.

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