#honestly if there was one bright thing in all his tragic life until Hogwarts then this would be it

[black-occamy]

Found here.

First transformation of Remus Lupin (age 5).

#not sorry #remus lupin #remus john lupin #baby werewolf #honestly if there was one bright thing in all his tragic life until Hogwarts then this would be it

[pennylaneforthoughts]

Lokius Hogwarts AU

All right my dudes, hot take time:

I’ve seen a lot of Hogwarts AU headcanons floating around, and having thought waaaaaay too much about it, I’m here to add my two cents.

( @sortinghatchats has my favorite sorting system I’ve seen to date, since it goes so much in depth into themes throughout the HP series that good ol’ JK barely touches on in her pretty surface level commentary on the subject, so that’s the system I’m gonna use. Go to their blog to learn more about the way the system works bc I’m too lazy to go more in depth than I already have.)

This is gonna be Hella Long tho so I’m putting it under a cut.

Loki: Petrified Slytherin Primary/Slytherin Secondary - sorting: Slytherin House

Perhaps it may seem trite, but Loki really is a Slytherin Primary at heart. Yes he is ambitious and all that stereotypical stuff, but that’s not really what makes a Slytherin a Slytherin. Anyone can be ambitious. No, he’s a Slytherin because he unapologetically prioritizes himself and the people he cares about above all else. 

“Slytherin Primaries are fiercely loyal to the people they care for most. Slytherin is the place where “you’ll make your real friends”– they prioritize individual loyalties and find their moral core in protecting and caring for the people they are closest to. Slytherin’s reputation for ambition comes from the visibility of this promotion of the self and their important people– ambition is something you can find in all four Houses; Slytherin’s is just the one that looks most obviously selfish.”

However, Loki’s trauma has pushed him to something this system calls Petrifying.

“Whether through death, betrayal, abandonment (from either side), or through never having had any to begin with, the Petrified Slytherin has decided that having important people is too dangerous. Having those strong ties leaves you open to pain and weakness, and the pleasure of those connections aren’t worth the despair that comes from their seemingly inevitable loss. In this way, they close themselves off to meaningful connections out of what is ultimately fear (though from the inside, it’s far more likely to be experienced as a rational, sensible decision given the circumstances of the world), and gives them a stony exterior that seems impenetrable, resolute, and cold.” 

Loki wants love and acceptance so badly, but he is convinced that the kind of attachments and relationships that that comes from are far too dangerous and the risk isn’t worth the reward. He pushes people away, hides behind a mask of self-aggrandizement, and betrays others before they can betray him in an attempt to protect himself from potential pain.

In the series, however, we see him slowly unpetrify and move towards a more healthy style of attachment because of Mobius and Sylvie’s influence on him. Whereas his circle of priorities used to include only himself (and arguably Frigga and later, Thor, in the movie timeline), he proverbially “thaws” enough to let Mobius and Sylvie in, and tragically, because of that, the loss of them hurts him so deeply because by the end of season 1, they’re all he had.

His Slytherin Secondary, however, is obvious in his methodology. He’s the god of chaos. He loves improvisation, and plans only exist as long as another better idea doesn’t come along and usurp it. He’ll change and adapt (quite literally) to best fit the situation in front of him, and he takes joy in that. But beneath all the running and his many personas, he has his “neutral state” that he lets only a precious few see. Mobius gets to see it, and so does Sylvie, and as he progresses through the series, he starts to be more comfortable existing in that state where he’s no longer hiding behind everything he feels like the world expects him to be and he can just be himself. 

Mobius: Slytherin Primary (Hufflepuff Model)/Hufflepuff Secondary - sorting: Slytherin House

People like to put Mobius in Hufflepuff, but honestly? I don’t think that’s where he’d be most comfortable. Yes, he is kind and caring to basically everyone, and we see this over and over again in the series. The man radiates comfort. However, like it says in Inky and Kat’s description of the Slytherin Primary, 

“Wanting to help someone doesn’t mean you’re loyal to them. Wanting to help them at the expense of your comforts, your values, your commitments and sometimes even yourself–that does.”

Mobius is kind to a fault. But he is not kind at the expense of himself. Not to everyone at least. He is kind to the child in France, but he is not kind to the point of saving him from the resetting of the timeline, and he doesn’t feel guilty about that. He believes in a duty of care, but he does not believe he has any obligation to go beyond what he thinks that duty of care is. He unapologetically plays favorites, and this is mentioned on multiple occasions. Above all else, Mobius values loyalty as a virtue. Sure, he cares about the TVA and its accompanying morality, and he genuinely does believe it’s his duty to care about and be kind to others. He seems to vibe quite well with the Hufflepuff ideal of caring about people simply because they are people, but this is all secondary to his personal loyalties when push comes to shove. For Mobius,

“dropping that model in order to stand by someone you love, or in order to protect yourself, doesn’t feel like a failing. Sticking to that modelled morality at the expense of betraying or abandoning one of their own would make a Slytherin feel guilty and wrong. Being able to put the things and concepts you like aside for the sake of the people who need you feels more righteous than any moral posturing.”

It’s for this very reason that Mobius gets so angry and feels so betrayed when he thinks Loki has abandoned him for Sylvie, and when Ravonna lies to him and prunes him.

“Betraying your own is the worst kind of crime. Loyalty is precious and terrible; it makes you vulnerable. It’s given sparingly, deeply, and a Slytherin will stand by their loyalties through the same death and fire that a Gryffindor would brave for the sake of doing the right thing, or a Hufflepuff to help someone in need.”

Loki is Mobius’ own. Mobius prioritizes Loki over almost everything else, sticks his neck out for him over and over again, and is willing to sacrifice his own happiness for him. He’s even willing to abandon the whole of his former ideology and prior friendships for this relationship that has become closer to him than his own self, the highest tier of trust and loyalty a Slytherin can give.

“It’s an extreme Slytherin who would let the whole world burn for the sake of a friend, but every Slytherin Primary would be at the very least tempted.”

And Mobius very nearly does exactly that. Even says the words, “burn it to the ground” when Loki asks him what he’s going to do. And he doesn’t feel bad about it. Especially after realizing what the TVA has done to him and the people he cares about. He kicks the TVA out of his circle of care, and doesn’t look back. And he does it for Loki.

Mobius’ Secondary is where people get his Hufflepuff vibes from, I think. A Hufflepuff secondary is marked by “their consistency and the integrity of their method. They’re our hard workers. They build habits and systems for themselves and accomplish things by keeping at them. They have a steadiness that can make them the lynchpin (though not usually the leader) of a community.” And that is what Mobius is. It’s why he radiates that kindness and comfort. He quietly and carefully works at and invests in the relationships in his life to the point that people almost automatically trust him, and over time he has learned how to read people and figure out what makes them tick. 

He approaches new situations with a steady head and gentle hand that Loki is unused to, and it’s this approach that eases Loki into learning how to trust and rely on people. It’s an inherently Hufflepuff approach, and it’s the key to his success as an analyst for the TVA and an understanding friend for Lokis across the timelines.

Tl;dr - Application to an actual Hogwarts AU fic:

THEREFORE! There’s a compelling narrative to be had with a tiny, first-year Loki coming into Hogwarts. He comes from a pureblood family that’s very proud of their Gryffindor heritage (they don’t talk about Hela, and Loki and Thor don’t even know she exists until later in this story), and his brother had been sorted into Gryffindor a couple years prior, and Loki has heard very little other than contempt for Slytherin House and everyone in it. Loki doesn’t want to be sorted into Slytherin. He doesn’t want to deal with the disappointment and shame from his father and the sad eyes of his brother. But the sorting hat sorts him there almost immediately, and his heart sinks. He wanders over to the table miserably but determined. If he’s gonna be sorted into the “evil” house, might as well just run with it, right? Best not to get close to people though. It’s Slytherin. Who knows when someone will betray you.

Enter Mobius, the tiny muggleborn, bright eyed, bushy tailed, and having no clue about the prejudices between houses. The hat takes a hot minute sorting him, giving him the choice between Hufflepuff and Slytherin and telling him Hufflepuff would love a kindhearted and welcoming member like him. But Mobius has been eyeing the little black-haired kid who got sorted before him and is now sitting far apart from everyone, and he can’t help but feel like he needs to be this kid’s friend. And didn’t the hat just say Slytherin is where you’ll make your real friends? Friends are what Mobius cares about, so he’d like to go to Slytherin, thank you very much, so that’s where he goes, and he happily plunks himself down right next to Loki and sticks his hand out.

“I’m Mobius. What’s your name?”

 Loki looks at Mobius’ hand disdainfully and doesn’t shake it, but he does answer, “Loki.”

Mobius’ eyes go wide, and he smiles. “Loki? Like after the Norse god?”

Loki nods, eyeing Mobius suspiciously. People don’t often bat an eye at his name. Not in the wizarding world, anyway.

“Wow, that’s so cool! I loved reading about Norse mythology in school and Loki was always my favorite. Names have power, you know. If you’ve got the same name, then you must be just as awesome.”

Loki has no idea what to do with this kid, but he’s immediately aware of two things:

He’s absolutely sure that this Mobius kid is in the wrong house. No way a Slytherin can be this excited without a single hint of deception in his face.

He’s going to be eaten alive by the other students if Loki doesn’t protect him. What a pain.

Loki is completely wrong on both of these points.

#lokius #loki x mobius #wowki #loki #mobius #loki 2021 #look i've thought WAY too hard about this and i just need a slytherin mobius who subverts everyone's expectations about what a slytherin is #while still being 100% obviously a slytherin when you think about it

[ffangirlingsince2001]

End of the Tunnel: I

Description: It’s almost been a year since Freed Weasley was lost to the Battle of Hogwarts, and for George Weasley it might as well be an eternity. He is lost in the dark, no color to be found. Until suddenly there might be a light at the end of the tunnel.

Warnings: (future as well as present) suicidal thoughts, smut, angst, fluff, depression,  attempted SUICIDE, self harm, torture, mentions of torture

A/N: So, this is pretty dark, just FYI. There will be happy moments but a lot of the time it will get pretty dark. Trigger warning applies now, just be forewarned. Please enjoy though if you are willing to suffer through the tragedy to get to the light at the end of the tunnel.

MASTERLIST

***

The world ended on May 2, 1998.

At least it did for George Weasley.

He was not dead, of course. His mother and father still loved him. Bill, Charlie, Percy, Ron, and Ginny all still hugged him. His business was doing splendid, far better than it ever had before the war, Ron was even helping him run it. And yet, the world felt as if it no longer turned because Fred was gone and that was all that really mattered.

May 2 had been awful, but the funeral was even worse. Friends, family, and strangers wanting nothing more than to hug him or shake his hand when all he wanted to do was destroy everything that touched him. He hadn’t shed any tears that day. He figured he was all out, but now that he considered it, he was sure he had just grown numb.

He had never had a problem smiling before, and even in the winter he was constantly warm, denying every coat his mother sent his way. And now, he was sure he had forgotten how to smile and even in the hottest part of July he wore a sweater, fighting off the chills that ran along his spine.

His mother had pleaded with him to go to therapy, to talk to someone about the tragedy but he had refused. There was nothing a therapist could tell him that he didn’t already know.

He knew he was depressed; he knew Fred was never coming back, and he knew he needed to move forward. He had no interest in reliving the moments when he had witnessed the cold lifeless body of his twin lying on the floor of the school they had once attended. All he wanted to do was the lock the door to his new flat and never come out. He had considered returning to his home above the shop but every time he thought of the memories he had built there his stomach churned and before he knew it he was emptying the contents of his stomach into the nearest sink. So, he gave it to Ron and Hermione and bought himself a smaller one.

He was laying in the bed that occupied most of the studio flat, thinking about the day he moved in as he struggled to get up. The walls were grey, and the bedsheets were white. He hadn’t bothered to buy curtains, so the dingy light of the cloudy morning was highlighting the dust he had let build up over the months. No pictures hung on the walls; no Knick knacks sat on the shelves. Dishes were piling up from the last spout of motivation, not that he ate a whole lot these days. Most importantly, there were no mirrors. He had ripped the bathroom one from the wall and shattered it in the street the moment he moved in, completely satisfied with giving up his security deposit for a little bit of sanity. His world was completely colorless. His skin was pale and the warmth that had generally resided in his face had seeped away like water from a washcloth. In fact, the only color one could find in the small room was his hair, shining just as brightly as it had the day the world ended.

He had dyed it once. A dark brown, the most boring color he could think of, but the moment his mother had seen it she burst into tears and begrudgingly changed it back, if only to avoid the dirty looks that Ginny shot him through the very uncomfortable family dinner.

Today was the first of March, and George could feel the anniversary of Fred’s death drawing nearer with every movement of his body. His muscles ached and his bones creaked like an old rocking chair no one had touched in a century.

As he laid there he considered never getting up, but eventually with great effort he pulled himself from the cold sheets and pulled on the dullest clothing he owned. A grey tailcoat covered a white button up and black slacks, severely pressed hung a bit short over his ankles. The shoes were so old they no longer shined. He didn’t bother brushing his hair, sure that the howling wind would mess it up anyway.

He left the door without eating breakfast and turned down the street in the opposite direction of the store. He couldn’t bare to go to work today, and Ron could handle it.

Ron had gotten a lot better at handling it.

He was right about the wind, it battled against him like it was trying to force him to go to work, but he pushed on, determined to spend his day in miserable loneliness. Somedays he imagined Fred was screaming at him from the clouds, telling him to stop being a git and move on with his life, but he had never been good at taking orders. So, without any regard for the signs of the universe he continued to push on, wrapping his arms around himself as he tried to keep warm.

In honor of his mood, it began to pour and before he knew it, he was drenched to the bone, the neat he clothes he had donned pressing tightly against this skin. By now he was in a muggle town he had never been to. The streets were completely empty, no one wanting to get caught in the torrential downpour.

He was going to turn around, go home if not to work, when he heard a voice shouting through a roll of thunder. He glanced around, searching for the source, and was met with the sight of a woman hailing him towards her store. He looked behind him, checking for someone else, when he heard a sharp laugh.

“I’m talking to you, silly. Now, come in before you catch a cold,” she called, stepping into the rain to usher him closer. He walked quickly, ducking through the doorway as he followed her inside. He watched as she shoved the door closed against the atrocious wind, the bell jingling ferociously overhead. When she had succeeded, deadbolting it for good measure she turned to face him. She wrung out her blonde hair as she studied him with bright eyes (they reminded him an awful lot of what his used to look like). “What on earth are you doing out in this weather?” she laughed, and he shrugged, unsure of how to approach the situation. He had not been met with such glee in an exceptionally long time. When he didn’t respond he smile faded and concern rested heavy on her shoulders. “Are you alright?”

“I don’t think so,” he muttered, and she nodded.

“Then I think you need a drink.” She ushered him to barstool and disappeared behind the counter. “Butterbeer or tap?” His eyes snapped to her when she mentioned the magical drink. “Butterbeer then.”

“You’re a witch?” he blurted, and she laughed, shaking her head.

“Oh no, but I know my customers, and you are clearly a wizard.”

“How can you tell?”

“The wand in your tailcoat.” He glanced down and sure enough, a faint outline of his wand was visible against the fabric. “No need to obliviate me though, I’m no snitch. I’ve had all types in this little pub of mine, vampires, werewolves after a particularly bad night, wizards, what you call muggles, I’ve even had a couple goblins gamble in my back room, no bias here.” He didn’t say anything as she twittered on, setting the mug in front of him and leaning on her elbows as she took him in with earnest curiosity. A few minutes of silence before she spoke again. “Do you want to talk about it, that’s what bartenders are for to hear all your tragedies while you drown them in the best liquor we have?”

“Who are you?”

“Hannah Gladdis. And you are?”

“George Weasley.”

“It��s a pleasure to meet you.”

“How old are you?”

“Nineteen, twenty in June. You?”

“Twenty-one in April. How’d you come to own a magical bar at nineteen?”

“It was a tragic thing really, last year the owner died in a war with your sort. I was a waitress then, but he left it to me in his will, so now it’s all mine. Honestly, I’m surprised I survived long enough to own it, luck I guess.”

“What happened?”

“These men in masks came and tore the place apart looking for the owner, shouting something about blood traitors, but he wasn’t in. It was just me, hiding right behind this counter praying that they wouldn’t find me.”

“Did they?”

“Yes,” she whispered, fear creeping into her eyes as she thought about the night she was describing to him. “They used two spells. One made me feel like I was on fire and the other made me bleed, I can barely remember it. The whole thing was awful, by the time they were sure I didn’t know I could barely move. They set the place on fire and left me to die, still hunting for him, I guess since he’s dead now. Somehow someone saved me, I don’t even remember them but they must have performed a counter curse because I got out with only a few scars, but you would know all about those,” she said noting his missing ear. “Were you in the war?”

“Right in the center of it. Do you have any firewhiskey?” She nodded and dropped beneath the counter and pulled out the familiar bottle.

“I’m sorry for your loss.”

“How do you know I lost anyone?” he growled, and she offered him a sad smile.

“I lost friends and I’m not even a witch, I figured a hero right in the center of it wouldn’t come out unscathed. Also you’re missing an ear.” He grunted and threw back the shot of liquor she had poured. “You won though?”

“Sometimes it doesn’t feel that way,” he mumbled, and she nodded, taking one of his hands into hers. He watched her hands cradle his as if he were the fragile one, but he could see the scars that were etched into her fingers. He ran is thumb along one of the more prominent ones. When he glanced up, she was biting her lip, eyes focused on the thumb that was stroking the harsh scar. He whispered her name, but she didn’t move. He said it again and this time her eyes met his. He wanted to say they were blue, but that didn’t seem quite right. Her dark eyelashes were hanging heavily over them, casting shadows into the two small pools of ocean that stared back at him. He was going to say something more, let the light buzz from the liquor take control and pull her against him, but she moved away before he could. With an awkward laugh she tucked a piece of hair behind her ear and pulled herself a shot, downing it just as quickly.

“It’s not even noon,” she laughed to herself and he shrugged.

“I’ve been drunk before noon before, nothing to ashamed of.”

“Isn’t that a sign of alcoholism?”

“Not that I’ve ever heard of before.” He flashed her a tight, unpracticed smile that made his heart cringe against his ribs but it seemed to work. Pink washed over her cheeks and she was quick to busy herself among the empty glasses, searching for one to clean.

“So, what’s someone like you wandering the streets during a downpour?”

“Escaping.”

“By catching a cold?”

“Or something like that.” She laughed awkwardly, running a damp washrag over the top of the bar, avoiding eye contact at all costs, and it was killing him. He wanted to look into her eyes all day. He had to think of something, do something, say something that would draw her back.

“Why didn’t the Ministry take your memories?” he asked, and then silently cursed himself. Out of all the topics he could have chosen, he chose the one that terrified her. He hadn’t spoken to a stranger so domestically in such a long time it seemed he was out of practice.

“They don’t know, as far as I know they don’t even know I exist. And I would like to keep it that way if you don’t mind.”

“Wouldn’t it be better to forget?”

“To forget what?”

“All that pain and fear.”

“I considered it at first, but then I decided it was better to know what was coming then feel broken all over again.”

“No one is going to hurt you like that again,” he growled, far more aggressively than he had intended and she laugh, taking his hand and finally allowing their eyes to meet once more. She didn’t seem scared when she looked at him, it was if she almost wanted to believe him. She really seemed to believe the idea he could chase away her nightmares. He knew he would disappoint; he could barely chase away his own.

“You sound so sure, George, but alas, you won’t always be sitting in my little bar to protect me.”

“Then come home with me.”

She was shocked to say the least, at least that’s what her eyes said.

“I barely know you.”

“Then get to know me.”

“I’m working.”

“You said it yourself, no one is out in this rainstorm.” He sauntered towards the window and flipped the sign around and locked the door. “And anyways, it seems you’re closed.” She studied him closely, and he was acutely aware that she was still holding his hand. Finally, she nodded and for the first time in ten months his heart jolted with joy. He spun her around the bar and caught her in his arms. “Ready?”

“For what?” she began to ask but they were already gone, whipping through the air as he apparated them to the small flat.

She was laughing when they landed, clutching her stomach as she tried to catch her breath.

“My god, that was exhilarating,” she gasped. She was still holding his hand, tighter than ever. He watched her as she looked around and cursed himself for not keeping the place cleaner. “I like your place.” He was sure she was lying; it was so dull and lifeless it was almost a prison cell. The counters were dirty, and the trashcan was overflowing. “It could use a little color, but maybe that’s the beauty of it. I can never decide how to decorate so I’m constantly having to remodel, this way I can just close my eyes and imagine the walls orange.”

“Orange?”

“Or maybe a soft teal, I don’t know, it depends on my mood.” He caught him smiling again for the second time on the day he woke up feeling like death. She was like a ball of sunshine and she was standing in the little place he called home. For the first time since he had been born, he found himself wishing his home was bigger. Even when he was a kid he had never cared, but now that there was someone he was dying to impress he wished he owned the minster’s mansion.

“It’s not much…”

“It’s lovely.” Color tinged his cheeks and now it was his turn to busy himself in the kitchen.

“Would you like some tea?”

“Oh, yes, why thank you,” she said as she glanced out the window, “What part of town are we in?”

“Just on the edge of Diagon Alley.”

“Oh really! I’ve always wanted to come; I’ve heard it’s absolutely beautiful. Wow, a real wizard town. Is it true what they say about Hogsmeade?”

“It depends on what they say,” he chuckled, bathing in her excitement. It was a welcome tone, something he had not felt since months before the end of the world.

“That it’s absolutely picturesque. Someone showed me a post card once, and I called her a liar, told her nothing but a painting could be that beautiful, but she assured me it was all true.”

“She wasn’t lying, if you want, I’ll take you sometime.”

“Wow, not even a first date and you’re already promising to whisk me off to some beautiful village in the countryside.” He blushed when he realized what he had said, abashed that this woman had gotten into his head so quickly. He had never been so infatuated with anything. He turned quickly, spilling hot tea over the side of his hand, but he barely even noticed. Her eyes were big and blue as she stared at him, cheeks pink and lips parted. “George…” she began but the teacups hadn’t even hit the ground when he was taking her into his arms and kissing her as softly as his feelings would allow.

She tasted like Christmas. Cinnamon from the firewhiskey and butterscotch from the beer tainted her lips like frosting on cake he had only eaten in a distant memory. He wanted to throw her to his bed and devour her, experience every inch she would allow him, but her tentative fingers stopped him. He was stranger who had apparated her to his flat in a place she did not know, and now he was doing everything in his power to ravish her like the goddess she appeared to be.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, pulling away as far as he dared. He was not sure he would ever be able to be far from her again, not when he knew how wonderful she was. She stepped forward, still hesitant, and cupped his cheek in her hand.

“No, don’t be. That was brilliant.”

“Then would you mind if I did it again?” She laughed and leapt into his arms, pressing her lips against his. He had never understood people comparing others to home, but as he wrapped his arms around her and he felt her fingers unbuttoning his shirt as fast as she could manage. His hands dropped to the hem of her shirt, prepared to pull it off and admire her entirety but she jerked back. He stopped immediately, pulling away as he searched her face for what he had done wrong. She wasn’t looking at him again, eyes crossed over her chest as she shuffled her feet.

“I’m sorry,” she mumbled and he shook his head, taking her cheek in his hand.

“Don’t be. Tell me what you want. If it’s nothing then we’ll do nothing,” he whispered and with tentative fingers she brushed the place where is ear had once been. He wanted to pull away, but he didn’t dare, not when she looked like she was going to break.

“Very few survived your war without scars, even us muggles.” She pulled her hand away and took a deep breath before pulling her shirt over her head. He watched it hit the ground before trailing his gaze over her skin. She hadn’t lied. Scars were etched across skin that had once been soft. They were harsh and angry, still red after what he had assumed was months of healing. Silence crept into the room as he stared, anger coursing through his veins as he imagined the kind of pain that had caused these scars. “Say something,” she whispered, words catching in her throat.

“If I ever find who did this to you, I will not hesitate to kill them,” he growled and she let out a short laugh. “I’m not kidding.” She leaned up and kissed him softly, gratitude laced in every touch. He pulled her closer, fingers trailing the scars that plagued her. They tipped into his bed with unexpected grace, laughing between kisses. Quick fingers undid his pants and he followed suit, exposing soft skin raked with more scars. She didn’t pull away anymore, in fact he was sure she was trying to get closer than possible. Her legs pressed against his hips as her fingers explored every inch of skin. He flipped them over, admiring her against the bedsheets, blonde hair spread out like a halo. He leaned down and kissed her softly as she giggled against his lips.

“Don’t leave me,” he whispered before he could stop himself and with all seriousness she nodded.

“Not in a thousand years.”

#george weasley imagine #george weasley x reader #george weasley fanfiction #george weasley #george weasley smut #george weasley fluff #george weasley angst #george weasley x reader smut #george weasley x reader angst #george weasley x reader fluff #george weasley fanfic #george weasley x reader fanfiction #end of the tunnel

[halothenthehorns]

TLTNL- DRACO'S DETOUR

Lily nibbled on her lip for a moment before she could get started. She couldn't help it, everything Snape and Narcissa had talked about still weighed on her mind, but so far Harry's life was going quite well for once. She forced herself to remain focused on that as she began, the smile lingering causing the same in the rest of them.

Harry remained within the confines of the Burrow's garden over the next few weeks. He spent most of his days playing two-a-side Quidditch in the Weasleys' orchard (he and Hermione against Ron and Ginny; Hermione was dreadful and Ginny good, so they were reasonably well matched)

"That doesn't sound well matched at all," James ruffled his hair in confusion. "From what I heard, three are great, and Hermione has no clue what she's doing on a broom. What's reasonably matched about that?"

"Remember how Ron tends to get nervous," Harry tried hard to repress a chuckle, and was failing at it. "Well he fumbled a lot of Hermione's throws. He claimed he was going easy on her, but ah," he trailed off with a fond shake of his head, he knew Ron's faces well, and the look he sometimes got when she was the one throwing the play made him, well, throw the play.

and his evenings eating triple helpings of everything Mrs. Weasley put in front of him.

"I can't believe you've never gotten sick, going from so little food to so much," Remus muttered, not at all finding it a bad thing.

It would have been a happy, peaceful holiday had it not been for the stones of disappearances, odd accidents, even of deaths now appearing almost daily in the Prophet.

Lily sighed that her boy was having to experience the same kind of news they were now, it really had been a blessing they'd barely been able to enjoy it took this long.

Sometimes Bill and Mr. Weasley brought home news before it even reached the paper. To Mrs. Weasley's displeasure, Harry's sixteenth birthday celebrations were marred by grisly tidings brought to the party by Remus Lupin,

She would have normally stopped anyways to smile over at Remus reappearing on Harry's birthday, but for this particular instance she frowned instead and reread that bit. Not only was this the first birthday Remus was in attendance for, Merlin Sirius had never even managed that, there was no mention of him going out of his way to talk to Harry. In fact, the opposite, bringing such news along? She suddenly couldn't help but wonder if he really would abandon himself from Harry's life again. He certainly hadn't gone out of his way to show otherwise yet.

  who was looking gaunt and grim, his brown hair streaked liberally with gray, his clothes more ragged and patched than ever.

The boys, who had gone bright eyed at once for the news, looked as grim as if Sirius had been brought up again. The last thing they wanted to hear was their last remaining friend suffering even more hardships in life, yet clearly that's all he was getting.

His first announcement over birthday cake was more dementor attacks.

"Aren't you just full of fun information!" Sirius huffed.

"I'd take the cake back," James agreed.

Remus didn't even have it in him to make a face at them, they were entirely right. He wished he could put this away, tell it later when it mattered, prioritize on just having fun, but it wasn't at all hard to imagine the thought wouldn't even cross his mind at this point in the future.

Harry at least tried to offer, "maybe you were telling me then, because you knew Mrs. Weasley or anyone in the Order wouldn't let you later."

Lily still couldn't help but tisk, she didn't find it that relevant, but Remus at least looked cheered at the thought this could be put in any good light.

And they'd found Igor Karkaroff's body in a shack up north,

"I, honestly forgot about him," James blinked in surprise. Considering everything else that had gone on in Harry's fourth year, this guy seemed laughable at best looking back on him.

"How recent is this news? I'm stunned this hadn't happened already," Sirius rolled his eyes.

the Dark Mark set above his house. Lupin was honestly surprised it hadn't happened sooner than a year, Regulus Black had only lived a few days.

"Oh lookie there, were five for five! Anyone want to play some odds this'll come up every single chapter, now by Moony himself!" James mock cheered to hide his growing hysteria of that constantly being brought up.

"Technically he just mentioned Sirius' brother, not-" Harry broke himself off, he couldn't find anything good to say about that.

Sirius couldn't bring himself to say anything on the matter, that would never be something he'd have wanted to learn! He still didn't even know details of why his little brother had done it.

Mrs. Weasley tried to forcefully change the subject, but Bill only kept it rolling by informing Florean Fortescue's' shop was empty, dragged off by the look of the place.

"Bloody tragic future this is, attacking the ice cream," James tried for a smile that didn't at all work.

Ron asked why while Mrs. Weasley pointedly glared at Bill.

"I find this far more relevant than Karkaroff," Sirius sighed, though he honestly couldn't blame Molly, they heard enough about this without bringing it up themselves.

No one was sure, but he must've upset someone. Mr. Weasley added in Ollivander had vanished as well.

Harry rubbed at his temple hard, the harsh thump he felt for that couldn't be anything good, but he must be ridiculous. Why would he know anything more about this than what happened to Florean Fortescue?

Ginny was stunned, where would people go for wands now?

Lupin pointed out someone else,

"I didn't even know there were other makers in the country," Lily sighed.

"There aren't, that I know of anyways," James agreed. "People will have to travel really far for them, and that's a danger in itself in these times."

but Ollivander was the best, so it was a shame if the other side did have him.

"There's Moony, always keeping us on the important information," Sirius grumbled.

The day after this rather gloomy birthday tea, their letters and booklists arrived from Hogwarts. Harry's included a surprise: he had been made Quidditch Captain.

Lily had been reading so distracted because of all this, she almost glossed right past this detail.

James would never allow such a thing, the second that news registered he let out a great whoop of joy and jumped clean out of his seat, nearly taking Harry's head with him he'd wrapped him in such a tight hug moments before.

"Yes! This is the best news ever! I haven't been this excited since you were put on the team! I can't believe it! Yes I can, McGonagall knew there wasn't a better choice! I'm amazed you haven't had this spot since your fourth year! Oh I can't wait to hear about-"

Lily and Remus were both massaging their ears in protest as he somehow managed to shout even louder every passing moment, but he looked so jubilant it would feel cruel to tell him to stop.

Sirius wasn't acting any better, laughing so hard he seemed likely to run out of air soon and Harry looked so pleased with himself at their reactions it was like hearing about his first game all over again.

Lily waited patiently for them to run out, scratching Hickory on the chin in the meantime and trying to remember a certain Herbology plant that specialized in ear regrowth, they'd need one before all this was up for more reasons than her husbands happy shouts.

"Oh, I wish you were wearing it now, I know McGonagall had to pry mine away from me-"

"Prongs, if you don't settle down, then we'll never get to actually hear him doing anything with his captaincy. I know I'll never be able to hear properly again anyways, but still," Remus tried to patiently cut in.

"Leave him be Moony, this is the first thing he's had to celebrate in, maybe even since his first year. Since then, everything has been just as depressing as it was an accomplishment for the pup."

"Thanks Sirius," Harry told him with a torn expression of whether he was supposed to be laughing at that one.

Lily still took their momentary distraction as an opportunity to keep going, though James was still so jazzed he honestly looked like he regretted taking his seat for now.

Hermione congratulated he could now use the Prefects bathroom.

"Because that's the important takeaway from this!" Remus rolled his eyes.

Ron eyed it with worry, recalling Charlie wearing one of those. He supposed it would be cool having him as Captain, assuming of course he'd be back on the team, as he ended with a nervous laugh.

James made a sad little face this position suddenly put his son in, but even that couldn't put a damper on his delighted news and he encouraged Harry not to worry about that until he had to.

Mrs. Weasley hardly paid any attention to their chatter, sighing they couldn't put off a trip to Diagon Alley anymore, but they'd have to wait until their father was off on a Saturday to come, she wasn't going without him.

Ron laughed if his mother really thought You-Know-Who was hiding behind a bookshelf in Flourish and Blotts?

"Well after hiding out in a girls bathroom, I really wouldn't put much past him," Sirius smirked.

Mrs. Weasley, fired up at once, rounding on him and reminding Fortescue and Ollivander had gone on holiday then?

"Probably best not to be testing his mother anyways," Lily sighed with sympathy for Molly.

If he thought security was a laughing matter he could stay home!

Ron hastily reminded he wanted to see the twins shop!

"Priorities," James agreed enthusiastically, as if this could get any better!

She pointedly said he'd better watch his tone then, or she'd think he was too immature to even return to school.

Remus let out a soft whistle, unable to grasp how worried a parent must be to have that kind of threat in there.

Ron turned to stare incredulously at Harry as his mother hoisted the laundry basket and the teetering clock into her arms and stormed out of the room, muttering about how she couldn't even take a joke anymore.

"She's never struck me as the fun type to begin with, that's somehow gotten worse over the years," Sirius sighed.

"Be fair, we saw her laugh...err...back when Fred and George made a joke about the train crashing," Harry finally offered.

Lily smiled sadly for the poor stressed mother, and even more for her sons defense of the woman no matter how much it stung just a bit to hear. She was being ridiculous of course, Harry had every reason to do this as he always would.

But Ron was careful not to be flippant about Voldemort over the next few days. Saturday dawned without any more outbursts from Mrs. Weasley, though she seemed very tense at breakfast. Bill, who would be staying at home with Fleur (much to Hermione and Ginny's pleasure),

"Was I detecting a hint of sarcasm in that?" James asked innocently.

"From me? No, never dear," Lily giggled.

passed a full money bag across the table to Harry.

"Really warms my heart an employee of Gringotts got into Harry's vault so easily," Lily muttered.

"I passed him along my key, didn't think to ask why he wanted it though," Harry shrugged without concern.

Ron at once demanded where his was.

"Did he really think his older brother was just passing out bags of gold?" James looked baffled at the reaction.

"I'm sure it was an impulse kind of response, like yelling at the top of your lungs about your kid getting a badge," Remus said pointedly.

Bill told his brother he was being an idiot, that was already Harry's. Gringotts was in security overhaul as of now, they'd been sticking probes up- well, this way was easier for Harry and his parents.

"No, no, you finish those kinds of sentences!" Sirius protested. "Was it his ear? His bum? Underneath his fingernails? Oh, maybe they jammed it into his-"

"Sirius," Lily protested, squirming uncomfortably at wherever his mind had next leapt to and going on extra loud, suddenly grateful their bank had never gone to such extreme measures so far.

Fleur crooned he was always so thoughtful, while Harry watched Ginny mime vomiting into her cereal for this.

"What a perfectly good waste of cereal," James sighed. "You reserve those actions for bowls of cabbage obviously."

Harry choked over his cornflakes, and Ron thumped him on the back.

Then James snorted in surprise as he eyed his son, telling him, "was it really that funny?"

"Unexpected from the likes of Ginny," he pointed out sheepishly.

It was an overcast, murky day. One of the special Ministry of Magic cars, in which Harry had ridden once before, was awaiting them in the front yard when they emerged from the house, pulling on their cloaks.

Ron appreciated his dad had gotten cars from work again as the three of them and Ginny stretched out in the backseat, while the rest piled upfront except Bill and Fleur who were staying behind.

"Practice having the house to themselves before the honeymoon," Remus muttered under his breath, casing Sirius to both snicker and scowl at his mate at the same time, him constantly interrupting his own jokes when he made cracks like that just didn't seem fair.

Mr. Weasley warned over his shoulder not to get used to it, it was only because of Harry.

"Well that was just rude," Lily huffed. "I'm sure Arthur could get them for his own family if he requested it."

"I wouldn't hold my breath," James sighed.

He'd been given top level security, and they would be meeting with additional security at the Leaky Cauldron.

Harry groaned and heavily rolled his eyes, but when he saw the others actually looked a touch relieved at the news he restrained the rest of his mutters about paranoia. Honestly, where was Ron when he needed him.

Harry said nothing; he did not much fancy doing his shopping while surrounded by a battalion of Aurors.

"I quite like the idea," Sirius smirked. "Get them to do the shopping for you, I bet you could even get some to carry you."

"And drop you on your fat head while they're at it," Lily rolled her eyes.

James couldn't help laughing just a bit at the mental image anyways, picturing his sons thin arm reaching for a book while the massive bodies kept him blocked from sight.

He had stowed his Invisibility Cloak in his backpack and felt that, if that was good enough for Dumbledore, it ought to be good enough for the Ministry, though now he came to think of it, he was not sure the Ministry knew about his cloak.

"Certainly not yours specifically," James agreed.

When they arrived the driver told he was going to wait for them, and asked about how long they'd be.

Mr. Weasley warned a few hours.

"Least he's honest," Remus chuckled.

Harry peered through the window and his heart leapt. There were no Aurors waiting outside the inn, but instead the gigantic, black-bearded form of Rubeus Hagrid,

"Hagrid's back!" Sirius whooped, and Harry felt like joining in this time.

"He never went anywhere you daft idiot," Remus scowled at this again being shouted right in his ear.

"He wasn't on my mind for a moment, it was horrible!" Sirius insisted, while Remus shoved his face away and pleaded Lily to go on.

the Hogwarts gamekeeper, wearing a long beaverskin coat, beaming at the sight of Harry's face and oblivious to the startled stares of passing Muggles.

The moment he stepped out of the car Harry was swept into a bone-crushing hug. Hagrid babbling in his ear about Buckbeak- Witherwings of course- was so happy to be back in some open air!

Lily started giggling this was of course the first thing Hagrid would talk about. It really was nice to hear about him again.

Harry was just as glad he was pleased while rubbing his ribs, then told Hagrid he was pleased he was the extra security.

Hagrid agreed just like old times, Dumbledore had said he was up for the job and the Ministry agreed.

"Nothing new there," James beamed in agreement, he wouldn't let his cheerful mood be soured by once again remembering everything Hagrid was there for. It was of some consolation Harry hadn't run up and shared his news of Quidditch Captain with him.

The Leaky Cauldron was, for the first time in Harry's memory, completely empty. Only Tom the landlord, wizened and toothless, remained of the old crowd. He looked up hopefully as they entered, but before he could speak, Hagrid said importantly they were just passing through.

Tom nodded gloomily and returned to wiping glasses;

Lily couldn't help her lip puckering a bit with sympathy, knowing his wasn't the only business suffering during this time.

Harry, Hermione, Hagrid, and the Weasleys walked through the bar and out into the chilly little courtyard at the back where the dustbins stood. Hagrid raised his pink umbrella and rapped a certain brick in the wall, which opened at once to form an archway onto a winding cobbled street. They stepped through the entrance and paused, looking around.

Diagon Alley had changed. The colorful, glittering window displays of spellbooks, potion ingredients, and cauldrons were lost to view, hidden behind the large Ministry of Magic posters that had been pasted over them. Most of these somber purple posters carried blown-up versions of the security advice on the Ministry pamphlets that had been sent out over the summer, but others bore moving black-and-white photographs of Death Eaters known to be on the loose. Bellatrix Lestrange was sneering from the front of the nearest apothecary. A few windows were boarded up, including those of Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlor. On the other hand, a number of shabby-looking stalls had sprung up along the street.

Harry shifted a bit anxiously at this, not at all liking how the place seemed almost shrouded from its once glory. It was all the more depressing to look around and see no one really surprised, he was sure this was much more the Diagon Alley they were used to than the bright one from his memories.

The nearest one, which had been erected outside Flourish and Blotts, under a striped, stained awning, had a cardboard sign pinned to its front:

AMULETS

Effective Against Werewolves, Dementors, and Inferi!

Sirius grumbled uneasily about what he'd like to do to that man, while Remus couldn't help a bitter scoff people would even delude themselves into thinking those would work.

A seedy-looking little wizard was rattling armfuls of silver symbols on chains at passersby. Trying to haggle to Molly as she passed to get one for Ginny's pretty neck.

Harry scowled, hand twitching for his wand, though soothed just a bit by the fierce expression he remembered on Ginny's face, making it clear she didn't need an amulet to protect her from anything.

Mr. Weasley was glaring angrily at the amulet seller for this, muttering if only he were on duty.

"Don't see why that would stop you from toppling the lot over," James snapped.

Mrs. Weasley reminded he wasn't, and they didn't need to be arresting anyone right now. She decided they should all go to Madam Malkin's first, they all needed their robes fixed, and then they could head to Flourish and Blotts-

Arthur corrected they didn't have to stay together, it would be faster if Hagrid went with the trio and Ginny came along with them.

Mrs. Weasley seemed anxious, clearly torn between a desire to finish the shopping quickly and the wish to stick together in a pack.

Lily already longed for the cheerful passages about the kids wandering off all on their own to get ice cream and catch each other up on their holidays, rather than completely understanding both sides to those fears.

Hagrid agreed at once, though Molly hardly looked convinced,

"Paranoid mother," Sirius shook his head indulgently.

Harry bit his tongue hard to fight back the compulsion to remind Sirius he'd been accused of much the same, but even if he could have spoken the words, it would only be more of a constant reminder who was missing. The glowering posters of the one who'd taken him away standing out in his mind more than ever making it hard to focus at all.

but allowed the separation, scurrying off toward Flourish and Blotts with her husband and Ginny while Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Hagrid set off for Madam Malkin's.

Harry noticed that many of the people who passed them had the same harried, anxious look as Mrs. Weasley, and that nobody was stopping to talk anymore;

James ruffled his hair in unease, not having to think hard for the dead silence of a crowded place, how everything sounded like no more than a hiss of air and yet every noise was deafening for none of it was done on purpose as if that would save their souls.

the shoppers stayed together in their own tightly knit groups, moving intently about their business. Nobody seemed to be shopping alone.

"Nobody usually does, it's just something you realize once you're looking for it," Remus sighed.

Hagrid offered to wait outside instead of squeezing inside the shop, so Harry, Ron, and Hermione entered the little shop together. It appeared, at first glance, to be empty, but no sooner had the door swung shut behind them than they heard a familiar voice issuing from behind a rack of dress robes,

"Good familiar, or bad familiar?" Lily asked curiously.

Harry's troubled face wasn't much of an answer, he had a lot of mixed emotions about Malfoy right now both because of what he'd witnessed his mother doing through this book, and this year in general made him feel Malfoy wasn't just going to be some annoyance in his background for once.

going on about not being a child and able to do this alone!

There was a tutting noise and a voice Harry recognized as that of Madam Malkin, the owner, said his mother was right to be worried, no one was out alone these days, it had nothing to do with being a child-

The first voice snapped back careful where she stuck those pins!

A teenage boy with a pale, pointed face and white-blond hair appeared from behind the rack,

"Malfoy?" They all muttered with some general confusion more than anything. They'd thought him a dead kid because of that earlier bit, now to hear of Narcissa and him in fact just going about their business was as odd a concept as Harry choosing to go into Borgin and Burkes.

They couldn't even throw any general insults at him, for once they were actually worried this little Malfoy would just drop dead right in front of Harry more than they were worried about what snide comment he had today.

wearing a set of dark green robes that glittered with pins around the hem and the edges of the sleeves.

He strode to the mirror and examined himself; it was a few moments before he noticed Harry, Ron, and Hermione reflected over his shoulder. His light gray eyes narrowed, and Draco's voice was as malicious as always as he announced the presence of a Mudblood.

Sympathy gone. James hitched a ferocious expression onto his face, willing to curse that brats teeth out one by one for referring to anyone like that! He would still do anything he could to help Narcissa save that life, but it didn't mean he'd have to do it happily!

Madam Malkin scolded there was no need for that language, or wands, she had to hurriedly add as both Ron and Harry took theirs out and pointed them at Malfoy.

"The proper response," Sirius agreed, "if you'd shot a hex already I'd even say you've improved!"

Hermione, who was standing slightly behind them, whispered at them not to as well, it wasn't worth it.

Lily brushed at her hair for a moment before nodding a bit, it should be up to Hermione to decide how much he deserved for that. She was the one being insulted.

Malfoy sneered who'd given her that black eye? He wanted to send flowers.

"A joke telescope has done more to their lives than you've ever impacted it," Remus sniffed.

Narcissa Malfoy strolled out from behind the clothes rack and snapped at them to put those away. If they attacked her son again,

"I like that she says again, as in she's well aware who's been leaving her kid on the train with decorations," James smirked.

she would insure it was the last thing they'd ever do.

Lily scowled heavily, wanting to give anything to step in and defend her child like Narcissa still had the privilege of doing thanks to something Severus was helping with. Where was the justice in that?

Harry merely took another step forward, asking if she was going to get a few Death Eater pals to help with that again?

Madam Malkin squealed and clutched at her heart. Telling him he shouldn't be throwing accusations like that around!

Harry did not lower his wand. Narcissa Malfoy smiled unpleasantly.

She told that being Dumbledore's favorite might have given him a false sense of security, but Dumbledore wouldn't be around forever to protect him.

"Harry hasn't needed Dumbledore to do much of anything, or anyone for that matter," Sirius snarled at the slight, all of them missing Harry's troubled little frown.

Harry looked mockingly all around the shop before pointedly saying there was no Dumbledore here now.

"I really can't decide if he should be scolded, or praised for this," Remus muttered.

"Sassing a Death Eater is never a good idea, unless you have backup, and since he does, I'm all for it," Sirius huffed.

Have a go then! Maybe she'd get a double cell with her husband!

Malfoy made an angry movement toward Harry, but stumbled over his overlong robe. Ron laughed loudly.

Narcissa grasped his shoulder before he could do anything else, almost purring to her child that she'd be reunited with Lucius properly by the time Potter again saw her dear cousin Sirius Black.

James lurched hard in his seat, like he was fighting back the urge to curse something into dust that wasn't in the room. What he would give to make it so no one could ever say that about his family again!

Harry raised his wand higher.

Hermione grabbed his arm, pleading with him it wasn't worth it, he'd be in such trouble!

"Sometimes it's worth it," James said through gritted teeth. Lily bit hard at her tongue to stop herself agreeing with him, she honestly couldn't say she'd be acting any better, having already wished to hex the both of them long before they'd crossed that line.

Madam Malkin dithered for a moment on the spot, then seemed to decide to act as though nothing was happening in the hope that it wouldn't.

"That is a terrible method!" Lily snapped. "It's what caused most of this problem with Fudge around!"

She bent toward Malfoy, who was still glaring at Harry and tried to hem his sleeve up a bit more, but he again snapped at her to watch it with the pins! Then he pulled the robes over his head and threw them onto the floor at Madam Malkin's feet.

All five of them scoffed in disgust for this little brat, it was already a miracle they'd felt anything for him other than wanting to drown the whelp.

Narcissa decided it was time they take their business elsewhere.

"Good riddance," Lily sniffed.

And with that, the pair of them strode out of the shop, Malfoy taking care to bang as hard as he could into Ron on the way out.

Madam Malkin was left to snatch up the fallen robes and move the tip of her wand over them like a vacuum cleaner, so that it removed all the dust.

She was distracted all through the fitting of Ron's and Harry's new robes, tried to sell Hermione wizard dress robes instead of witch's,

"I don't see the problem with that, could have made a statement she could," Sirius chuckled.

and when she finally bowed them out of the shop it was with an air of being glad to see the back of them.

Hagrid pleasantly greeted them back outside, and Harry asked if he'd seen the Malfoy pass by.

Hagrid agreed he had, but they wouldn't be making trouble in Diagon Alley, no need to worry about them.

Harry, Ron, and Hermione exchanged looks, but before they could disabuse Hagrid of this comfortable notion,

"Honestly, what's there more to say?" James sighed, desperately reaching for that good mood once more. "Let's get back to some shopping, we still haven't got to hear about the twins shop that's been teased for ages!"

Harry gave a light laugh of agreement.

Mr. and Mrs. Weasley and Ginny appeared, all clutching heavy packages of books and continuing the rest of the list together.

Neither Harry nor Ron bought any ingredients at the Apothecary, seeing that they were no longer studying Potions, but both bought large boxes of owl nuts for Hedwig and Pigwidgeon at Eeylops Owl Emporium. Then, with Mrs. Weasley checking her watch every minute or so, they headed farther along the street in search of Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes, the joke shop run by Fred and George.

Mrs. Weasley was still anxiously checking her watch and store numbers, muttering about how they hadn't much time but to look around at the twins things and then get going-

Then Ron stopped in his tracks and uttered 'woah.'

"A wonderful first impression then!" Sirius all but squealed, unable to believe Lily had gotten this one!

Set against the dull, poster-muffled shop fronts around them, Fred and George's windows hit the eye like a firework display.

"What I'll remember them most vividly for," Remus whispered in anticipation.

Casual passersby were looking back over their shoulders at the windows, and a few rather stunned-looking people had actually come to a halt, transfixed.

James knew he would have been the same way, it was almost cruel just having to imagine such a sight in such a dismal place!

The left-hand window was dazzlingly full of an assortment of goods that revolved, popped, flashed, bounced, and shrieked; Harry's eyes began to water just looking at it. The right-hand window was covered with a gigantic poster, purple like those of the Ministry, but emblazoned with flashing yellow letters:

WHY ARE YOU WORRYING ABOUT

YOU-KNOW-WHO?

YOU SHOULD BE WORRYING ABOUT

U-NO-POO-

THE CONSTIPATION SENSATION

THAT'S GRIPPING THE NATION!

Lily couldn't help it, she laughed out of pure shock, the boys already dissolving into tears of mirth. It was by far the most hysterical thing anyone had ever called Voldemort, including using just the name Riddle instead!

Harry started to laugh. He heard a weak sort of moan beside him and looked around to see Mrs. Weasley gazing, dumbfounded, at the poster. Her lips moved silently, mouthing the name "U-No-Poo."

She at once whispered they'd be murdered in their beds.

"Even Voldemort would stop to laugh at that, no matter how human he isn't!" Sirius insisted.

Ron brushed off it was brilliant, as he and Harry led the way into the shop. It was packed with customers; Harry could not get near the shelves. He stared around, looking up at the boxes piled to the ceiling: Here were the Skiving Snackboxes that the twins had perfected during their last, unfinished year at Hogwarts; Harry noticed that the Nosebleed Nougat was most popular, with only one battered box left on the shelf. There were bins full of trick wands, the cheapest merely turning into rubber chickens or pairs of briefs when waved, the most expensive beating the unwary user around the head and neck, and boxes of quills, which came in Self-Inking, Spell-Checking, and Smart-Answer varieties. A space cleared in the crowd, and Harry pushed his way toward the counter, where a gaggle of delighted ten- year-olds was watching a tiny little wooden man slowly ascending the steps to a real set of gallows, both perched on a box that read: reusable hangman 'spell it or he'll swing!

"Well that one got morally disturbing," Lily finished the first round of products with more indulgence than anything.

"I want more details," James all but whined, his hand still twitching to snag the book away from Lily, who smiled at him and merely held it closer before continuing.

Hermione had found Patented Daydream Charms in a large display near the counter and was reading the information on the back of a box bearing a highly colored picture of a handsome youth and a swooning girl who were standing on the deck of a pirate ship.

She exclaimed it as extraordinary magic for something so lifelike.

"She sounds so surprised," Sirius still managed a pout on the twins behalf.

A voice behind them said she could have one for free for that.

"I personally would have reminded her of the time they turned Neville into a canary instead, but I suppose that's good business," James hadn't stopped grinning for pages now, it was fantastic!

A beaming Fred stood before them, wearing a set of magenta robes that clashed magnificently with his flaming hair.

"I'm sure that's why they wear it," Lily agreed.

He shook hands with Harry at once before asking what had happened to Hermione's eye.

She ruefully reminded him of his telescope.

Fred said in surprise he'd forgotten about that thing before handing her a tube from his pocket.

"Should I be worried he keeps something on him to get rid of that?" Remus asked around twitching lips.

"Nah," his two friends said at once.

She unscrewed it gingerly to reveal a thick yellow paste.

Fred explained just dab it on and the bruise would be gone within the hour. Decent to have around, since they were still testing most of their products on themselves.

"Still? Would have thought they'd be able to pay someone even better than first years by now," James chuckled.

Hermione looked nervous, asking if it was safe.

Fred said of course it was at once, while leading Harry off to give him a tour.

Harry left Hermione dabbing her black eye with paste and followed Fred toward the back of the shop, where he saw a stand of card and rope tricks.

Fred explained that was for nuts like his dad who enjoyed Muggle tricks, they weren't a big seller, but cute novelty items.

Then George appeared. Fred's twin shook Harry's hand energetically.

He offered Harry to see the back where they made their real money. On the way he warned a kid with his hand in a barrel that stealing something would cost him more than Galleons. The kid at once backed away.

"I'm sure they have all kinds of anti-thieving spells around," Lily agreed.

"Wonder what they prefer to do with those getting caught? Cutting off limbs, or simply using them as test dummies for a few products?" Sirius snickered.

George pushed back a curtain beside the Muggle tricks and Harry saw a darker, less crowded room. The packaging on the products lining these shelves was more subdued.

Fred began they'd just developed this more serious line,

"Aw, I'm honored," Sirius pressed his hand to his heart, then scowled at once at his two friends who didn't even have the energy to smack him for the dower joke.

while George explained it was unbelievable how many Ministry employees couldn't do a simple Shield Charm.

"That is the most depressing news I've heard all day, and that's saying a lot!" Sirius insisted still in his jesting tone. At least James almost cracked a smile for that one.

Course they didn't have Harry for a teacher, Fred amended.

"I really doubt I did that much," Harry said a little dumbfounded, "I mean, they were two years above me! Surely a previous teacher-"

"I wouldn't count on it Harry," Remus corrected. "A different teacher every year, that's going to produce shotty results even if every one of them were steller, and from your track record alone you know that wasn't always the case."

Harry still looked rather blushy and baffled over the whole thing.

So they'd initially created Shield Hats, you know, challenge someone to a duel while wearing the funny looking thing. Then the Ministry bought their whole supplies for a year.

Which lead them into a whole range of Defense Dark Arts products. Of course it only worked against minor hexes and jinxes.

"This, is, brilliant!" James squealed. He couldn't see much of a use for those himself, but he'd certainly fix every one of those and some boots if they had them to his infant for the next year or more, he couldn't be the only parent seeing a practical use for these things! They certainly needed to be invented right along with those canary creams as soon as possible!

There was also their supply of Instant Darkness Powder, imported from Peru, handy for a get away.

Remus let out a surprised whistle, that stuff was expensive, he was more surprised the twins weren't trying to recreate their own instead.

Plus their Decoy Detonators, which were walking off the shelves, literally. Even as Harry watched some were scurrying around. Fred explained you just drop one on the ground and they'd create a racket for a diversion.

"Love it," Lily giggled, any number of helpful times that could be used coming to mind, and she was sure even unhelpful times if those boys smiles meant anything.

Harry took a liking to those, so George tossed him some at once. Then a young witch poked her head in, wearing their uniform and telling both Mr. Weasley's there was a customer looking for a joke cauldron.

"That's got to get confusing. As if they weren't switched around enough, now they go by the same name," Sirius chuckled.

Harry found it very odd to hear Fred and George called 'Mr. Weasley,'

"I'm honestly more surprised they're not already trying to tell McGonagall they didn't do it," Remus snickered.

but they took it in their stride.

George left with Verity to see to the customer, while Fred told Harry there was no charge in this store, as Harry had just reached for his money bag for the Decoy Detonators.

Harry tried to protest he couldn't do that,

"I believe you can," James reminded Harry with a fond grin. "You are the one, and only person, who invested in this, I think that entitles you to a few free things every now and again."

"You basically paid for everything in that shop," Sirius agreed.

"No I didn't, they'd been making things well before I gave them all that gold," Harry protested, "and they were doing fine getting it off the ground before Bagman caused so much trouble."

"The truth still stands I honestly doubt they would have gotten this far this fast without you, have fun with that, and please tell me you brought me a Decoy Detonator!" James finished pleadingly.

Harry still shook his head, but stopped arguing the point. Lily was honestly proud of both sides and just kept going beaming.

Fred was being firm about this though, saying they'd hadn't forgotten their start up loan. Harry didn't pay here.

Harry reluctantly put his money away as they found they found Hermione and Ginny, Fred deciding to lead them over to the WonderWitch products. A range of bottles from love potions to helpful things to do with your appearance.

Ginny asked curiously how well they worked, and George popped back up to give a few details, before Fred scolded they wouldn't be selling them to their sister though.

"Then why did he lead her over there?" Remus snorted.

"Showing off, obviously," James rolled his eyes.

Not that she seemed to need help, from what Ron had said she had five at once nowadays-

Ginny cut in whatever Ron said was a big fat lie, then asked what this small bottle did.

Fred explained it was a ten second pimple vanisher, before also telling her not to change the subject.

"I like that he answers first and then continues interrogating her, that's proper management," Sirius approved.

Was she, or was she not, currently dating Dean Thomas?

"Suddenly immensely glad none of us had sisters," James muttered, this already sounded like a nightmare, he could only imagine if Lily did have a girl anytime soon he'd be just as bad.

Ginny cooley agreed she was, but last she'd checked he was one boy, not five.

"Clearly she's not practiced enough duplication charms on him then," Sirius smirked.

Then she noticed a cage of differently colored balls of fluff all rolling around.

Fred briefly explained them as Pygmy Puffs, but insisted his sister was going through boyfriends a bit fast.

"And we have entered, none of their business territory," Lily huffed, completely on Ginny's side. She'd only had two in the last year, that really wasn't so bad, and honestly still trying to repress laughter all of the boys in the room looked more likely to drink one of those love potions than offer anything for this conversation.

Ginny turned to look at him, her hands on her hips. There was such a Mrs. Weasley-ish glare on her face that Harry was surprised Fred didn't recoil.

"That is a terrifying thought in itself," Remus agreed.

She firmly pointed out it was none of their business, and she'd thank Ronald not spreading stories about her to these two, as he chose that moment to appear laden with merchandise.

Fred tactifully managed not to answer by telling his kid brother that would be three Galleons, nine Sickles, and a Knut.

"Ah changing the subject, life's great gift!" Sirius cheered at once.

"I do love he knows all that just by glancing at the boxes," James snickered.

"Even with a family discount," Remus agreed.

Ron at once protested he was their brother!

Fred decided he'd knock off the Knut then.

"Never mind then," Remus agreed as his friends roared further with laughter. Lily couldn't help frowning just a bit, hoping Harry kept it to himself the twins had in fact done the opposite to someone not their brother. That wouldn't help Ron any with a problem he'd had feeling so overlooked, now possibly even replaced in his own family.

Ron protested he didn't have that much, and was then kindly told to put the boxes back where he'd found them.

Ron dropped several boxes, swore, and made a rude hand gesture at Fred that was unfortunately spotted by Mrs. Weasley, who had chosen that moment to appear.

"Mother's gift," Lily agreed fondly while the boys only subsided into further snickering.

She threatened if she saw him doing that again she'd jinx his fingers together, before Ginny swooped in and asked for a Pygmy Puff.

"Ginny is a great sister! Constantly keeping on the right track this one," James smirked.

Harry agreed at once, a fond smile on his face of how well Ginny knew how to deal with every person in her family.

Mrs. Weasley moved aside to look at the Pygmy Puffs, and Harry, Ron, and Hermione momentarily had an unimpeded view out of the window. Draco Malfoy was hurrying up the street alone.

"Honestly not surprised he ditched mummy," James snapped at once, not at all forgetting of those Malfoy's comments anytime soon.

"Surprised she let him stop holding her hand, as worried as she was about him," Lily muttered with far less venom. She vividly remembered Narcissa saying Draco had been eager to help Voldemort with something, and this setup was as forbidding as it got.

As he passed Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes, he glanced over his shoulder. Seconds later, he moved beyond the scope of the window and they lost sight of him.

Harry at once asked where his mummy had got to.

Ron agreed he'd given her the slip.

Hermione asked why he would?

Harry said nothing; he was thinking too hard. Narcissa Malfoy would not have let her precious son out of her sight willingly;

"That's a little presumptuous on your part," Remus frowned at him. "What's there for her to fear really? The Death Eaters are practically the boogeyman of the time right now, no one would dare hurt one of their kids."

Harry tried to explain his reasoning, "I'd never seen him away from his parents before, and Narcissa had certainly made a show of being worried about Malfoy there in the shop, stepping in like she did."

Malfoy must have made a real effort to free himself from her clutches.

Harry, knowing and loathing Malfoy, was sure the reason could not be innocent.

He glanced around. Mrs. Weasley and Ginny were bending over the Pygmy Puffs. was delightedly examining a pack of Muggle marked playing cards. Fred and George were both helping customers. On the other side of the glass, Hagrid was standing

with his back to them, looking up and down the street.

"Oh, you're not," Lily sighed in resignation already.

"Oh, he is," James agreed, a torn expression on his face. He almost agreed with Lily, this was his son just looking for trouble, but at the same time, he couldn't claim to be doing any better at that age, or honestly even now.

In a snap decision he pulled his cloak out and hissed at his two friends to hurry up while everyone was distracted. Hermione hesitated for a moment while Ron ducked in at once.

"I could have quoted that with you what their responses would be," Sirius said with a proud little smirk.

She hesitated for a second longer, then ducked under the cloak with them. Nobody noticed them vanish; they were all too interested in Fred and George's products.

"A marketing slogan I'm sure they'd be proud of, further helping you to get around trouble," Remus muttered.

Harry, Ron, and Hermione squeezed their way out of the door as quickly as they could, but by the time they gained the street, Malfoy had disappeared just as successfully as they had.

Harry quietly murmured which direction he'd gone, leading them carefully past Hagrid. They spotted him ahead turning left, as Ron whispered what a big surprised it was, right into Knockturn Alley.

"Yeah, no, got to disagree with Ron, I'm not surprised at all," Sirius stated in the such the same sarcastic tone his best friend had once done, Harry found it a bit eerie.

Harry insisted they speed up to him, while Hermione cautioned their feet would be showing. It was an issue hiding the three of them under the cloak nowadays,

"Not to mention you hardly ever practice," James huffed.

but Harry impatiently said it didn't matter, there was no one around.

Knockturn Alley, the side street devoted to the Dark Arts, looked completely deserted. They peered into windows as they passed, but none of the shops seemed to have any customers at all. Harry supposed it was a bit of a giveaway in these dangerous and suspicious times to buy Dark artifacts, or at least, to be seen buying them.

"There it is," Remus agreed, having fixing to correct Harry on that detail.

Hermione gave his arm a hard pinch.

He yelped ouch, but she quickly shushed him.

"Maybe if you want him to be quiet, don't pinch him to get his attention," Lily couldn't help but giggle. "Honestly, all three of you, you seem lacking in the ability to wave a hand around, gets the job done less painfully."

Harry chose not to answer that while still rubbing the spot.

They had drawn level with the only shop in Knockturn Alley that Harry had ever visited, Borgin and Burkes,

"That would have given me heart failure if I hadn't known the circumstances of it," James muttered.

which sold a wide variety of sinister objects. There in the midst of the cases full of skulls and old bottles stood Draco Malfoy with his back to them, just visible beyond the very same large black cabinet in which Harry had once hidden to avoid Malfoy and his father.

Harry couldn't help but shift uncomfortably, a great buzzing flowing across his mind telling him to pay attention now, as if he weren't doing that already.

Judging by the movements of Malfoy's hands, he was talking animatedly. The proprietor of the shop, Mr. Borgin, an oily-haired, stooping man, stood facing Malfoy. He was wearing a curious expression of mingled resentment and fear.

Hermione groaned they couldn't hear what was being said, but Ron then produced from the boxes he was still holding

"Ron certainly has his priorities in order," Sirius couldn't help bursting out laughing he'd kept hold of those all this time.

"I'm hoping whatever prevents one from stealing traced to blood, otherwise the whole store would realize you three are missing," James pointed out.

"We weren't tackled by Hagrid, so I think we're in the clear," Harry brushed off, still trying to lean in eagerly for what Malfoy was up to, an honest first since his second year.

some Extendable Ears.

"And my assertion those are needed for all occasions finally gets its first validation," James nodded along.

Ron quickly fed one into the door and they could at once hear Malfoy's voice asking for something to be fixed.

Harry felt like he'd just slammed his skull as hard into Hogwarts castle as he could already, that simpel word meant something dire! He kept his breath carefully neutral though, sadly still very clearly giving away something as they all glanced anxiously at him, but knew Malfoy was the only one who could give answers right now, as grating as that could get.

Borgin seemed reluctant to help, saying it would be easier if it could be brought in-

Malfoy snapped it couldn't, it had to stay where it was.

Borgin insisted without seeing it-

Malfoy stepped forward, out of their range of sight, and said perhaps this would give him confidence.

They shuffled sideways to try and keep him in sight, but all they could see was Borgin, looking very frightened. Malfoy continued if Borgin told anyone of this conversation he'd get a visit from Fenrir Greyback, an old family friend. He'd be dropping by anyways to make sure this matter was given the full attention.

"Why would he use him as a reference," Remus demanded so horsley, only Sirius had heard.

"It's a big name in the Death Eater community Moony, don't freak yourself out over details," Sirius quietly soothed so as not to distract Lily.

Borgin tried to say there was no need for that, but Malfoy snapped he'd be deciding what was needed. Then he gestured to be sure to keep that one safe, he'd be needing it.

Borgin offered him to take it now, and Malfoy called him an idiot, he couldn't carry that down the street.

"No more like a fool than usual, in fact whatever it is might even deter from that mug!" James tried in vain for a light joke, but even he didn't care about it, far more invested in whatever this was going on. It did not feel like a coincidence at all they'd been told Malfoy was given a task, and the next time they saw him, he was looking for help from Borgin.

Borgin made a bow as deep as the one Harry had once seen him give Lucius as Draco made to leave, again saying not to tell anyone about this, especially his mother.

"Why not? She clearly knows about everything else going on," Harry muttered in surprise, desperate to get any answer right now that didn't make his head feel as if that slamming was being repeated.

"She's clearly not approving of it love, and I'm sure she's made that known to him," Lily calmly explained, fighting back the urge to run her hand through his hair to sooth that agitated face. None of them were surprised this wasn't as informative as they'd have liked.

Borgin agreed at once.

Next moment, the bell over the door tinkled loudly as Malfoy stalked out of the shop looking very pleased with himself. He passed so close to Harry, Ron, and Hermione that they felt the cloak flutter around their knees again. Inside the shop, Borgin remained frozen; his unctuous smile had vanished; he looked worried.

Ron at once wondered what that could have been about, and all Harry could repeat was he wanted something fixed, and something reserved.

"Glad to know we gleaned as much as you, oh almighty Noticer," Sirius sighed.

"As if I need another title," Harry grumbled.

Without waiting for another response, Hermione ducked out from under the cloak. She checked her hair in the reflection in the glass, then marched into the shop, setting the bell tinkling again.

"What is she up to?" Remus demanded, looking worried for her safety at once.

"She clearly thinks she can get more out of this, and I can almost see her point," Lily had a critical eye in place. "Obviously neither of the boys could do it, they're too well noticed on sight, but if she plays this right and says the right thing, she very well could."

"She doesn't have a spotless track record for that," Remus still looked worried, remembering occasions where she'd still frozen on the spot or come up with some very lame excuses.

"On the other hand, she gets better with practice," Sirius tried to offer hopefully, at least what she'd done to Umbridge and Marietta last year proved she had a streak not to be messed with, hopefully that shone through right now.

The boys at once leaned back in to the Extendable Ear to hear Hermione greet him with a horrible morning in a bright voice.

"Well she's off to a terrible start," James moaned, already fighting back the impulse to bury his face in his fingers.

Borgin did not answer, but cast her a suspicious look. She cheerily hummed, passing a few display cases, and pausing at a necklace to ask how much it was.

One and a half thousand Galleons apparently, while Hermione disappointedly said she hadn't quite that much.

Then she asked for the price of a skull, and when he said sixteen Galleons, she asked if anything in here was being kept for anyone.

"Nope, she's already blown it," Sirius sighed in disappointment.

"Apparently she only does well under pressure, I'm sure if someone was threatening to curse her she'd have come up with a much better on the spot lie," James sighed.

Mr. Borgin squinted at her. Harry had the nasty feeling he knew exactly what Hermione was up to. Apparently Hermione felt she had been rumbled too because she suddenly threw caution to the winds. Falsifying the boy who'd just been in here was a friend,

"There's something I never thought I'd hear in any context," Harry crinkled up his nose.

And she was looking for a present for him, but obviously if he'd already reserved something she shouldn't bother to get the same thing.

"Credit for trying," Lily offered a weak little grin. "It took something for her to go in there and come up with anything as fast as she did."

"It would have done them better to actually come up with a plan, even to wait a few moments, rather than coming in right after he'd left," James sighed. Hermione had unintentionally ruined something that could have been quite valuable.

It was a pretty lame story in Harry's opinion, and apparently Borgin thought so too. He at once snapped at her to get out of his shop.

Hermione did not wait to be asked twice, but hurried to the door with Borgin at her heels. As the bell tinkled again, Borgin slammed the door behind her and put up the closed sign.

Ron offered it had been worth a try while throwing the cloak back over her, though noted she'd been pretty obvious.

She at once snapped back he could show her how it was done next time.

"Can't say Ron would have done any better," Sirius shrugged, "honestly of the lot of you, you all can't really lie to save your life."

"Thank you Sirius," Harry said blandly, though his heart wasn't at all in it. Finally he was fully and thoroughly distracted from his godfather, and was not at all pleased what his mind had settled on. Whatever Malfoy was up to, it somehow wasn't going to lead to anything better than dwelling on the death of him.

Ron and Hermione bickered all the way back to Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes, where they were forced to stop so that they could dodge undetected around a very anxious-looking Mrs. Weasley and Hagrid, who had clearly noticed their absence. Once in the shop, Harry whipped off the Invisibility Cloak, hid it in his bag, and joined in with the other two when they insisted, in answer to Mrs. Weasley's accusations, that they had been in the back room all along, and that she could not have looked properly.

"You only prove my point," Sirius couldn't help but insist, and refused to stop smirking at Harry until he offered an uneasy smile back.

#Harry Potter #fanfiction #reading the books #HP #HBP #The Life That Never Lived #Marauders #Jilly #James Potter #Remus Lupin #Sirius Black #Lily Potter

[ravenbrenna09]

Hogwarts AU

In honor of Sobbe being Sobbe and BLESSING us with the Sobbe selfie that we’ve been wanting for years, here is the first time that Sander saw Robbe.

This is likely to be in the first chapter of my wtFOCK @ Hogwarts AU, which I decided will include some other POVs, but the main POV would be the main of that season. (Also, I changed Sander, Senne, and Noor’s ages to only being one year older than the main cast so I didn’t have to move up the timeline so “Season 3″ has to happen before Sander and Senne graduate).

Enjoy!

...

September 1st, 2018

Sander had spent the entirety of the train ride to Hogwarts in a compartment close to the front of the train where only the prefects and teachers sat. He had locked the door to the hallway, protecting it with a powerful charm that made people turn away, and closed the blinds so no one knew that he was in there. The only people who disturbed him was the sweet-cart lady, who he paid extra to keep his location a secret because he knew Senne was likely looking for him. 

But, it had always been the same thing with the sole exception of their first train ride together, where they had met and traded their tragic life stories. 

Senne would hang out with his other friends, and in later years his girlfriends who would hang all over him, and Sander would hide away in another compartment, sketching the scenery that they passed. It had become a routine that they had established, something they did every train ride, no matter the holiday. Senne would always find him on the platform without his other gang of friends and the girlfriend of the week, pretending to be angry that Sander didn’t want to hang out with him, and Sander would roll his eyes, letting Senne drag him to the carriages, teasing him for his anti-social behavior.

As the train started to slow down and Sander shifted to get up, his cat, Ziggy, who’s orange fur was more red than yellow, let out a frustrated meow, shifting and trying to burrow further into Sander’s lap. But, Sander picked him up by his sides, lifting him up and into the cage. He fought him, clinging to the outside of the cage until Sander pulled his claws from the edges of the cage, and meowed weakly for him to let him out, and Sander pouted all the same. 

“I’m sorry, but the train is about to stop and you need to be in your cage for the house-elves,” Sander replied with a huff. He closed the cage and Ziggy protested again, louder. Sander pouted at him, grabbing his wand from his boot to vanish the cat hair from his black clothes. “Don’t make me feel worse.” Another protest as Sander pulled his robes out of his suitcase. “Ziggy.”

“Mrow,”

“Ziggy.” 

“MROW.”

“The house-elves will let you out when you get in the room, I promise,” Sander informed him. The train slowed down completely, halting to a stop and nearly throwing Sander into the shelf above the seat. With seconds of the train halting to a stop, the younger years were racing off the train in the direction of the carriages. Ziggy glared at him all the same but allowed him to scratch under his chin through the bars of the cage. “I promise to give you all the love later tonight.” 

After taking down the charm and pulling up the blinds, Sander exited his compartment, moving out of the train, following the rush of traffic until he jumped onto the platform. Sure enough, Senne was leaning against the same lamp light that he always was with Noor leaning up against him. The two of them were talking, their Gryffindor robes wrapped on his shoulders, the artificial light from the lamposts illuminating them in a warm glow, and Sander moved towards them, smiling over at Senne. 

“There you are,” Senne remarked, halting his conversation with Noor with a simple shrug of his shoulders and a headshake. “Honestly, the number of times that you disappear from the train. I’m convinced that you don’t even want to be my friend anymore.” 

Sander rolled his eyes. “As if. I don’t have to spend every waking minute with you, Senne.” 

He pouted, looking like a child. “But I miss you.” 

“You can survive the train ride without me,” Sander remarked. “You spent the majority of the summer over at my house, helping me steal my father’s alcohol, and you were definitely over at my house more than you were at yours. Not like I’m complaining, my mom loves you. You’re the son she always wanted.”

It was a joke, but it was also the truth because Senne was always nothing but respectful to Katrjin Driesen and protective of Camille within her fighting breath, and Senne knows it, reaching out to shove Sander’s shoulder.  

“Besides,” Sander remarked, crossing his arms over his chest. “You know very well that Luka and I don’t get along.”

“You know I prefer you,” Senne teased. He reached out to grab at Sander’s jaw, snagging it beneath the pads of his fingertips, and purposely jetting his lips forward. Sander leaned from his grasp, slapping his hand, and Senne let out a booming laugh, followed quickly by Noor’s melodious laugh. “But, Luka throws wicked parties when his parents are away. You should go sometime, I’m sure you’ll have a blast.”

“He’d probably sit on the couch and people watch,” Noor commented. 

“Exactly! There’s always an interesting amount of characters at Luka’s parties, but you never show up. You never know who you might meet,” Senne remarked. 

“I already see enough of Luka in our dorm and that’s enough for me.”

“Just because you go to his party doesn’t mean you have to see him.”

“I’m never invited.”

“I’ll invite you!” 

“But, I don’t want to go!” Sander responded. Senne laughed loudly, wrapping an arm around Sander’s shoulders (which had become increasingly more difficult now that Sander was taller than him) and dragging him in the direction of the thestral-drawn carriages. Noor followed behind as Sander tried to free himself from Senne’s iron-clad grasp.

The crowd on the platform had already begun to thin considerably. Everyone had been eager to get on the carriages, to be whisked away to the castle, as if that would somehow make the food and sorting ceremony happen quicker. Senne returned to his conversation with Noor, which seemed to have been about Professor Potter’s short summer project, picking a topic from the next book that they wanted to learn about and explain why.

Up ahead, there was a group of fifth years, hanging outside one of the carriages. There were only two of them that he recognized, Jens and Moyo, and only because Jens frequently ended up in the Slytherin Common Room when he was dating Britt and Moyo seemed to have a crush on Noor (much to her annoyance). One of them was a long-haired girl, another Gryffindor, with her long hair tied up into a ponytail, reaching out to pet the thestral. 

To Sander, she was petting air. But Sander had known of thestrals since his second year. 

Senne could see them, had the entire time, but the two of them hadn’t been able to understand why Senne could see it and Sander couldn’t. The Head Boy had explained to them about thestrals and how only certain people could see them and Senne guided him to feel the snout of the horse-like creature. It was freaky, being unable to see something but feel it’s leathery, smooth skin beneath your fingertips. 

The girl reached out, snagging someone’s wrist, pulling them closer. 

It was a boy, a Ravenclaw judging from the blue and bronze on his robes which hung on his shoulders, with brown hair that curled at the end, long enough to be pulled into a small ponytail at the nape of his neck. There were a few strands that broke free of the ponytail, falling on the sides of his face, framing his features beautifully, stunningly. They were a little far from the artificial light of the platforms, the moon shining on all of them, on him, as the girl placed his hand against the snout of the thestral.

A bright grin formed on the boy’s face, his grin lighting up his entire face, accenting it beautifully and perfectly, as his hand moved along the snout, petting it with the best of his ability, considering the fact that he (presumably) couldn’t see the beast, and Sander was almost glad that his friends weren’t paying attention to him because Senne would tease him for days and so would Noor. But, his soul screamed at him, him.

Him.

That’s him.

“Come on,” Jens spoke, climbing into the carriage, joining the curly-haired boy already sitting there. “Let’s go before they start the feast without him.” The girl climbed on the carriage, sitting down next to Jens and taking his hand. There was a look exchanged between Moyo and the boy as to who would get the final seat before they were off. 

Within an instant, the boy was around the thestral, climbing over the carriage side. The move was swift and agile, like he was born to do it, plopping down in the fourth and final seat of the carriage, before Moyo even had a chance to move that far. He let out a string of curses and the carriage took off, having automatically filled its four-person quota. Jens and the girl laughed. 

“Sorry, Moyo!” the boy called, grinning brightly. 

“That’s completely unfair! You’re too fucking small!”

“That’s why he’s the Ravenclaw Seeker!” 

Fuck, Sander thought to himself. How had he not noticed him before now?

Sander felt someone brush up to him and he turned to find Senne, nudging him with his shoulder and a concerned look on his face. “You okay?” Senne questioned. Noor popped up on Sander’s left, glancing at him as well. 

Sander nodded his head, wanting to have this conversation with his best friend later when it was just the two of them. “Yeah, I’m fine. Was just watching that interaction is all,” Sander commented, pointing at Moyo, who was staring at them, presumably Noor, now. 

Noor glanced ahead of them, letting out a frustrated breath, hissing out, “Oh, fuck me. Just what I need.”

Sander reached out, wrapping an arm around her shoulders and bringing her close to his side. He could see the disappointed, but not surprised, look on Moyo’s face, but he placed a kiss against the top of Noor’s hair for good measure. “I got you.”

Noor laughed, reaching up to intertwine their fingers, as Senne stepped towards the next carriage, laughing under his breath. “Thank you, Sander, the best fake-boyfriend I could ever ask for.”

#brenna writes #brenna's hogwarts au #slytherin!sander driesen #ravenclaw!robbe ijzermans #gryffindor!jens stoffels #gryffindor!senne de smet #gryffindor!noor bauwens #gryffindor!moyo makadi #hufflepuff!aaron jacobs #gryffindor!jana ackermans #sobbe #rosander #sander x robbe #wtfock #wtfock hogwarts au #wtfam

[childotkw]

Concept: Lupin x Voldemort/Tom. It came to me in a dream.

I’ve honestly never considered this pairing before, so this might be terrible, but let’s give it a shot?

I only see this pairing happening in a very specific kind of timeline. One where Tom Riddle went into politics to better position himself for his dealings as a Dark Lord. After decades of building his reputation and base, his exhaustive efforts have paid off. He’s a shoe-in for the Minister job once the current one steps down.

He’s already planning a list of policies that he’s intending to have passed – after all, he already controls half of the Wizengamot, and the other half can be corralled easily enough. The only potential flaw in his plan is the younger generation, who carry vastly different views to their parents and grandparents. As this is the generation he will be ruling over, it seems wise to gain their allegiances early, to prevent any unruliness down the track.

So he begins to look into what he could do that might sway them to his side, and he hears of things like equality and fair rights and minorities, and at first he is amused, until he realises how powerful these notions are. If he is voted in with the support of the purebloods – already ensured – as well as the outcasts, then he will be that much stronger. People are less likely to buck under a regime they helped put into place.

Now all he needs is a mudblood or similarly positioned person to use as a face for his campaign, and he’s good to go. He heads to Hogwarts, partly to assess the current graduating class for a suitable candidate, and partly to piss off Dumbledore.

It’s there that he stumbles across seventeen year old Remus Lupin, a young halfblood that suffers from lycanthropy. Tom takes one look at this bright, intelligent, poorly-dressed boy and immediately sees his ticket.

Werewolves have been persecuted for centuries, and though those ideals have spread to the younger generations, it would be all too easy to whip that fervour in the other direction. To have these children cry out for fair rights for people like their classmate, who despite his affliction, is widely regarded as such a nice young man, so polite, so kind.

So Tom approaches Lupin, intending to quickly ensnare the boy, to provide a sympathetic ear to his woes and tell him of his idea to push for equality for werewolves in their country. He expects a swift indoctrination, a few sweet words, maybe a hand on the shoulder – and then he’d have his golden goose.

Lupin sits quietly, listening patiently as Tom weaves his plans before him, asks insightful questions. And then he smiles, shakes his head and says no.

Tom is, understandably, confused and more than a little annoyed. Lupin snaps his book closed, hops off his bench, then trots away without a backward glance.

And while it would be a simple matter of finding another tragic little wolf to use for his campaign, Lupin had inadvertently thrown the gauntlet down. Had, in his soft-spoken refusal, stated that it was a pointless endeavour, that nothing could change the state of their world. Had implied that he believed that Tom could not make it change.

It is, naturally, unacceptable. Tom could do anything, and how dare this boy say otherwise. But the challenge has been issued, and Tom can’t quite help himself.

So he goes back to the drawing board, redefining his ideas. He’s on a time limit. Lupin has six months until he graduates, six months where he is easily accessible and within reach. But Tom knows that if he doesn’t convince the child by then, he will vanish. It’s easy to slip through the cracks when society doesn’t want you, and if Lupin leaves then Tom won’t be able to prove the brat wrong.

Thus he begins his long task of slowly clawing his way into Lupin’s life, rooting through his past, jumping on every chance he has to interact with the boy – and even creating a few of his own. He pulls this boy kicking and screaming into the spotlight.

Soon, people begin to talk of how Tom Riddle has taken an interest in poor, young Remus Lupin. They begin to speak of how open-minded he is, to offer support to someone in his position, to be so compassionate to a victim.

It works like a charm, and Lupin is caught like a rabbit. Because if he rejects Tom’s attention and support then he could actually make things worse for himself and people like him. Tom takes full advantage of this fact, and carefully winds the boy deeper into his web.

Over the months though, he begins to grow strangely fond of the boy. There is a spark of humour to Lupin, dry as the desert and sharper than most blades. He speaks with a flat drawl, tongue lashing out with startling accuracy before he retreats beneath a mask of guilelessness. He is intelligent, and strongly opinionated for all he rarely shares them. He also unquestionably loathes himself, with a ferocity that catches Tom off-guard.

It intrigues him, prompts him to dig a little deeper, and slowly he unearths the side of himself that Lupin keeps concealed. He begins to see the hints of the animal that lurks just under the surface – the way Lupin bares his teeth when he’s angry, the way his senses are far sharper than they should be, the rumble of a growl that coats his words when he feels threatened.

The amber tint that steals his eyes whenever the full moon creeps close.

It’s utterly fascinating to witness this grudge match between man and beast play out in the body of a boy, and Tom feels his fingers start to itch.

Their meetings slowly drift away from chess and politics, circling to long conversations about his transformations, at the way Lupin’s consciousness is overridden by his animalistic instincts, at how he used to chain himself up each month and wake up with thick gashes around his wrists, at how sometimes Lupin had wished he had bled out just to finally escape the curse.

And one night, Lupin confesses with trembling hands, that he dreams of finding Fenrir Greyback and burying his teeth and claws into the man’s still beating heart. That he would howl over his body in triumph at justice finally served.

Tom is delighted at the brutality lingering inside this otherwise unassuming boy, and he decides then and there that Lupin is too interesting to let slip away.

And Remus? Well, Remus knows that Riddle isn’t a good man, and though his classmates begin to side-eye him, and James, Sirius and Peter are even more vicious in their defence, he can’t bring himself to push Riddle away.

The man is a force of nature, with a magnetism that Remus can’t resist, and despite his instincts snarling at the predator he senses lurking in Riddle, he starts to enjoy their time together. Enjoys the rapid-fire conversations, the debates. Enjoys the way Riddle doesn’t flinch away from him in those terrible days before and after his transformations. The way Riddle looks at him not like he’s an abomination or something that needs to be fixed, but like he’s something fascinating to behold.

So maybe he starts to push back, to test this nebulous thing brewing between them. Maybe he starts to come to Riddle days before the full moon, brimming with energy and a burning need in his gut. Maybe he gets a sick rush from getting in Riddle’s space, of snapping his teeth in an alpha’s face without fear of being beaten down. Maybe he likes the way Riddle says his name with that not-quite purr wrapped around it.

Or maybe he just likes knowing that if he ever lost control, that Riddle was perfectly capable of putting him down.

Remus has never had a crush before, and he knows what he feels for Riddle isn’t healthy, that it shouldn’t be encouraged, but not even Dumbledore’s quietly disappointed looks can dissuade the instinctive urge he has to bite.

#anonymous #voldemort/lupin #darkwolf #i dont know why i like this so much #but i do #The Moon Howls AU

[la-fille-en-aiguilles]

His Father’s Son

Young!Sirius Black x Female Reader & NotSoYoung!Sirius Black x Female Reader

Request: Idk if requests are open or anything but can you write Sirius has a Slytherin son that's the twins age and hates him because Sirius likes Harry better

A/N: This awesome anon has sent me this mind-blowing request about Sirius. When I read it this morning I went Holy cow, how do I write THAT?! And honestly I even considered dropping it because I had no idea what to do with it. But then I went on a run, and it just came to me. I typed away, and this is what came out. Dear Anon, I’m not quite sure if this is what you had in mind. I hope the story doesn’t disappoint you. 

Synopsis: After the tragic events in the Hall of Prophecy in the Ministry of Magic, Alastair Black, Sirius’ only son, comes banging on the doors of his father’s ancestral home. What awaits for him there is his father’s friend Y/N, and her version of the past events might just make him question everything he thought he knew. 

WARNINGS: mentions of death, suffering, ANGSTY AF (I don’t know what happened to me there).

I hope you enjoy!  

The Beautiful & Damned will be back with a new chapter tomorrow! 

The night is solemnly silent, save for the roaring of the rain, assaulting the roof of the old, moaning house. Fists and jaw clenched tight, his eyes are fixed on the only glowing window, yellowed by time. Wet strands of hair cling to his burning front, and cold water is a blessing, hitting every inch of his skin, hammering the pain deeper and deeper inside of him, so no one sees. 

He’s weightless as his feet take him to the heavy doors - the doors he thought he’d never enter again. Inhaling frantically, he crashes both of his fists against the polished wood, the loud bang awakening something he long since locked in his rattling cage of a chest. 

The moment the sound reaches his ears, there’s is no stopping the rage that’s finally set free, painting his vision red. He hits the door again and again, bashing his fists in, until his hands go black and blue. The rambling in his head is getting louder, the shaking in his bones grows stronger, and the only way to stop it is to finally do it - blow the bloody doors of that piece of shit of a house, where he has never felt at home. 

He barely realises it when the doors slam open in his face, bright yellow light blinding him. Falling on his knees, his maimed hands covering his swollen eyes, he lets someone soft and warm wrap their hands around him. They don’t speak, and he doesn’t either, contenting himself with relishing the comfort of their touch. 

When his sensitive eyes adjust to light, he sees the empty corridors ahead, bathing in the welcoming glow. Dust floats in the musk-scented air, its playful light-stained thin whirls inviting him in. 

Hot tears welling up in his eyes, he tangles his sore fingers in Y/N hair, clinging to her fragile frame. She smells like Neroli and always, and her smell, coupled with the sight before his eyes, is enough for him to finally let go. 

“He’s dead!” the cry tears his insides apart, popping his veins open. “He’s dead! Sirius is dead!…”

She rocks him softly in place, littering his raven-black hair with chaotic kisses, her own cheeks glistening in the light of a full yellow moon. 

---

“Would you like something to drink, Alastair?” 

He blinks rapidly, his eyes sore and dry, his stare completely vacant. Y/N’s heart clenches, and she forces herself to go on:

“I still have a bit of coffee left… It’s either that or firewhiskey”, she drops into the chair across from the young Black, slamming a half-empty bottle of amber liquid against the table’s surface. “Pick your poison.”

Rubbing his nose with the back of a hand, Alastair quickly motions towards the bottle, and folds his hands in front of him. In booming silence, Y/N serves him a splash of the burning liquid and pushes the glass in his direction. His bleeding long fingers wrap around it as he downs the alcohol in one go, throwing his head back. 

Y/N watches him closely, as spider-web cracks on her porcelain heart become more and more prominent. In the dim lights of the Grimmauld place, Alastair looks so much like Sirius: he’s all bruises and blood, his beautiful stormy eyes dark grey, almost black, his jaw tense and his cheekbones sharp enough to cut her skin and bleed her dry. She crashes an unwanted whimper in its wake, as Sirius’ son raises his foggy orbs to look at her with a desperation of a man catching at straws, drowning in a bottomless river. 

“I’m sorry,” he says, his pale lips barely moving. “I didn’t want to wake you…”

“I wasn’t asleep,” Y/N interrupts, gazing at him, her eyelids each weighting a ton. “I was waiting for you. I was hoping you’d show”. 

Alastair nods, avoiding her gentle eyes. Fetching the bottle, he serves himself another drink, and noticing an empty glass a little further away, splashes a generous amount of alcohol inside, wetting its walls. Leaning over the table, he puts the glass in front of Y/N, still refusing to look her in the eyes. 

“It’s not like everything changed or anything”, he lets out, his fingers fidgeting with the rim of his glass. “He was long dead to me before that bitch actually Avada Kedavra’d him”, his nonchalance is a thought out act. Whiskey wets his lips. “He never loved me. He never loved anybody but his precious Harry fucking Potter.”

“Alastair…” Y/N gives her dissent a muffled try. “You know it isn’t…”

“Oh it is the truth, Y/N, so don’t waste your breath”, he chuckles bitterly, missing the rage already. Bitterness is worse than anger, because it lasts. “From the moment I was born, he didn’t want me. He blamed me for my mother’s death. All I wanted,” his voice trembled, but Alastair quickly got a hold of himself. “All I wanted was a fucking chance. I wasn’t given any. He abandoned me. He preferred to surrender and go to Azkaban for the crime he didn’t commit, than stay and fight and be a fucking father. And when he came out, he wanted nothing to do with me. Doesn’t come as a surprise, really - I am not a Potter, after all!” thunder flashed in his tempestuous irises. “I made peace with my orphanage, a very long time ago. I’m glad the Weasleys were able to see past my green and silver uniform…”

The lights in the room went out with a loud shattering sound, the glass from overhead lamps clattering on the floor. Alastair froze mid-sentence, Y/N rugged breathing echoing in the dark space. 

“You have no fucking idea what you’re talking about, Alastair”, Y/N’s struggles through the sentence, her last effort spent on controlling her temper. “I’m going to fetch a candle and we are going to talk”, young Black hears the shuffling as she gets on her feet. “Well, I am going to talk, and you are going to listen, because I’ve got plenty to say”, having said that, she makes her way to the kitchen counter. 

Minutes later, a bright yellow-and-orange flame flickers in the dark, casting long shadows on the walls of the room. Darkness clusters around the two of them, and the whole world is put on hold. 

---

“…What you have to understand, Alastair, is that those were dark, hopeless times. With those who made it through alive, we prayed that no witch or wizard had to go what we went through. 

The war makes you think differently; the constant state of fear and knowing that each minute could be your last changes the way you look at things; it turns your entire world upside down. 

At first, just like you’re doing right now in regards to your father’s behaviour, we were looking for reasons. It took us thousands of lost lives to finally learn the truth - not everything had a reason - a rational commonsensical cause that comes from the faculty of the mind to distinguish good from evil and right from wrong. Merlin knows, Death Eaters had no reason to act like monsters. Merlin knows, Death Eaters had no reason to line up into a battalion, to aim their wands at other wizards’ chests and to yell an unforgivable curse at the top of their lungs. What they did have was command, and enough fear to obey.

Fear was living among us, following us everywhere we went. Fear turned some of the best of us into cold-blooded murderers, and it was hard to always focus on that fateful yet blurry line that separated us from Voldemort’s sidekicks. What I want you to understand is that fear pushed us towards choices we would have never otherwise made. Fear was what pushed James and Lily into the Godric’s Hollow, far away from their friends and family - I keep asking myself what would have happened if they’d stayed. Would we have stood a chance against Voldemort, as a strong, united front, together? Would they have still been alive?… Maybe, fear was what truly killed them both. 

Sirius always wanted to do what was right. But at some point, fear changed your father’s perception of right, and we - I - was in no position to argue, because I didn’t know what right was anymore, either. 

We were mourning your mother, Marlene, each in our own way. Voldemort wiped out her entire family, and if he didn’t touch you, it surely wasn’t out of the fucking goodness of his heart. Riddle did not know you existed, Alastair. Only a handful of wizards knew Sirius and Marlene were so in love, they wanted a kid, a ray of light amidst all that darkness. I knew. So did Molly. James and Lily knew too, of course. Remus and Peter - thank Merlin, Peter did not know!… Thinking about it now, I still can’t believe we didn’t see it coming, we didn’t kill him while we still had a chance, while the damage still hadn’t been done!…

You were four years old when wizards from the Ministry came for your father. I remember it clear as day, but what price wouldn’t I pay to forget. Sirius was tired of running. His thoughts were eating him alive. What kind of start in life was he offering you, his son? Days prior to his arrest, he told me, “You know what to do, Y/N”, and he squeezed my hand, ever so lightly… 

A notorious runaway murderer, he couldn’t send you to Hogwarts without surrendering. Upon learning that you, Alastair Black, were Sirius’ son, the Ministry would have kept you hostage to lure him out. He refused to drag you down with him, no matter how much it’d cost him… 

I left our hiding place with you under my robes hours before the Ministry came. I saw them burning the place to the ground, and every last memory of your mother with it… 

I was a mess by the time I arrived at the Burrow. Molly and Arthur kept asking me what happened, what was wrong… I couldn’t form words. I choked on them. You have to understand, Alastair, I watched as my best friend, the man I respected and loved more than anything in the world, was taken to Azkaban for the crime he didn’t commit. I finally had him, and I lost him, because I made a mistake. I should have never agreed to put my trust in Peter, I had a gut feeling about him, even back when we were at school!… I was disappointed in the entire world and I blamed myself. 

Molly and Arthur took you in as if you were one of their own. I watched you grow, and I was proud of the young man you were becoming, taking so much after your father! Watching you become  your father’s son was killing me slowly, while I still mourned the person who wasn’t even dead. A brilliant young wizard, be it a little on the troublemaker side, you, Fred and George might as well have been the new Marauders, carrying on your father’s legacy unbeknownst to you. 

Each time I came over to Molly’s over the holidays, I cried my eyes out upon returning here, in this very kitchen - Merlin, you were just like him!… At war with his true family. Just like Sirius before you, you hated everything that the Black family represented, and you weren’t shy to express your feelings - a very rebel-like move for a Slytherin, some said. Dressed in greens and silvers, you were the spitting image of the man I loved in every little line littering your face, too early for your age.

Why didn’t you take me in, then, you probably wonder. With me loving your father so much and all, I should have been the first in line to take care of you. The truth was, I couldn’t. The day your father had been taken, I swore to myself I’d find Peter Pettigrew, and I’ll make him confess,  before he takes Sirius’ place in Azkaban. I spent years on the move, blinded by my desire for revenge, while Peter….He was always right there, right in front of our noses. 

Every time I saw you at the Burrow, your smile never reached your eyes. So many questions were swimming in their stormy oceans, unanswered. You wanted the truth, and I was the only person who was able to give it to you. Yet I couldn’t. As much as it killed me, you were better off hating you father. Should I have told you the truth - just how much he loved you, and that he was innocent - it could backfire in the most unpredictable way. So I remained silent, and there were desperate times when I thought I’d carry Padfoot’s secrets to my grave. 

When Sirius got out, and the truth broke free with him, it took a while for it to settle in, even among the members of the Order. I can’t imagine what it must have felt like, learning that your father was innocent this entire time, that you were never the son of a murderer, but of a man wrongfully committed to Azkaban. When the news finally reached me, I dropped everything and set out for the Burrow: this time, I was going to give you all the answers you needed to hear, before you were to reunite with your father. 

I apparated at Grimmauld’s place at quarter past midnight, I remember very well. Not a single window was alight. I entered the house I almost learned to hate, for everything reminded me of you father here, cutting me open. I made my way to the kitchen. Something didn’t feel right, the atmosphere had shifted, it was almost like the house could breathe again. 

The moment I saw your father sitting in the very chair you are occupying, my legs failed me. I broke down on my knees, sobbing uncontrollably, like a little girl. Your father put your arms around me, placing feverish kisses all over my face, telling me that it was going to be okay now. He was back. 

We talked the night away, until the dawn coloured the sky light pink. He wanted to know everything about you - what kind of person you’d become, what you loved, what made you tick, what subjects at Hogwarts were your favourite… I watched a mischievous smile bloom on his chapped lips as I mentioned that your animagus form was a husky. He laughed out loud when I told him you were exceptionally good at blowing up school toilets. He cleared his throat, hiding his tears of joy when he learned you were proud to be a Slytherin, because it “came to show that not all Slytherins were Death Eaters in the making”. I swear I saw Padfoot come back to life that night, familiar fire melting the deadly coldness in his eyes away. 

We arranged for the old members of the Order to come to the Grimmauld place in the evening; I asked Molly to tell you to come too. Sirius was anxious the entire day. He couldn’t sleep and he couldn’t eat, threatening to go see you, claiming he had waited enough. Coming out there, even as a dog, was still dangerous, so I talked him down, time and again. 

I will never forget the tears rolling down his cheeks when he saw you, after all these years… When he held you in his arms… My heart stopped at the sight. Having seen his eyes, having felt his chest against your own that night, how dare you say your father never loved you, Alastair?… You were the only thing that mattered to him, the only thing that kept him going… Even if he was forced not to show it. 

That’s right, you heard me. The moment the members of the Order sat down at this table that night, we knew: many more meetings would follow. I’d been places and I’d seen things - there was no doubt left in my mind that Voldemort was planning his big return, his servants and all these creatures who worshipped him restless. We all knew the danger was coming, but we didn’t know from where exactly.  

Dumbledore and Sirius stepped into the hall after the meeting; they talked long enough for me to start to worry. When Sirius returned to the kitchen, we were still sitting at this table, do you remember?… A bright smile lit up your features as you asked your father if you could stay with him for the remainder of the summer. His answer was short and cold, and shook me to the core. He didn’t even say goodbye when you left for Burrow with Molly and Arthur. 

I was furious. I waited till we were left alone in the house to confront him. I came off a little stronger than I intended, reminding him that you were his son, for Merlin’s sake, and calling him heartless. Tears glimmered in his bloodshot eyes as he told me he was doing what was best for you. It was too dangerous for you to be close to him - he was still considered a murderer by the Ministry, only now the other side of the looming war wanted him dead as well. Being his son alone had already put you in danger; being a devoted, loving son would have surely killed you. I tried to talk some sense into him - he was making the same damn mistake we let James and Lily commit back in the day - he was yielding to fear. 

Please understand, Alastair, this wasn’t my decision to make. I wasn’t your mother. I was nobody really, and that’s exactly what your father told me, point blank. I stared at him in disbelief for what felt like an eternity, before I disappeared into thin air, apparating back to my place in London.  

I watched you grow bitter, while the skies above our heads grew darker with every single day. I tried to talk to you, to justify your father’s behaviour in your eyes, but you wouldn’t listen. I forced Remus, the only close friend I had left, to try and open your father’s eyes, Merlin knows, he’d been good at it when we were back at Hogwarts. Sirius wouldn’t budge, either. Like father, like son. 

I know you were jealous of Harry, I could see it just by looking at your face, don’t try to deny it. All because Sirius was treating him like a friend. What he saw, looking at Harry, was James. An equal, capable of fighting - not the most valuable thing in the world that needed to be protected at all costs. You were the quintessential reason he survived Azkaban. You were the only force that made him go out and fight, every single day. You weren’t just you in his eyes - you were the promise of the happy future he had to deserve by avenging your poor mother. I think he punished himself in a way all this time, he blamed himself for not having been there for the mother of his child when she needed him most. He blamed himself for leaving you. Under the weight of all this guilt and fear, your father got lost… And I wasn’t there to fight for him, to show him the way.

He came to see me… He came to see me a week ago, right before that night at the Ministry”. 

Y/N no longer looks at Alastair - her gaze is lost in the darkness of the hall, as tears roll down her cheeks. 

“…And I didn’t let him in.”

With his vision blurry, Alastair bites on his lips, his chest heaving. He is drowning in all-consuming pain, and no one’s here to save him. This must be what his father felt like. In agony and all alone. 

“There’s not a minute that goes by that I don’t think about him,” Y/N rubs her eyes with the heels of her hands. “I know I could have saved him,” her voice cracks, and her entire body shudders. “Had I loved him a little less, just a tad less to forgive him for the hurt he had caused me, I could have saved him. I could have gone to the Ministry that night instead of him, I could have convinced him to stay here, with you, for he had so much to lose…” Alastair’s eyes meet hers - not a flicker of the flame is reflecting in their irises. He gets the feeling his are the same, void and dark, like his name. 

“I could have saved him,” he says, covering Y/N’s hand with his, squeezing it ever so lightly. “Had I loved him at his worse, when he needed me most”. 

Silence is a scary sound as it closes in on them - on a heartbroken woman with tear-stained cheeks who loved too much, and on the orphan with blood-shot, thunderous grey eyes who did not love enough. 

#harry potter angst #harry potter imagine #harry potter reader insert #young sirius black #sirius black imagine #sirius black angst #sirius black x reader #sirius black x marlene mckinnon #sirius x reader #Sirius Black #marauders era #marauder imagine #Marauders #I actually cried when I wrote that #request #first wizarding war rp #first wizarding war

[dasirunrunrun]

Good Grief - Chapter 3

Jungkook makes a habit of showing up drunk to a nearby flower shop. Bad puns and fluffy pining ensue.

Or, a college!au in which BTS are all frat boys, Namjoon is a science club president,Jimin just wants a good party, and Jungkook is hopelessly fascinated by the girl who takes care of flowers in her free time.

author's note: aaaand we’re back folks, with chapter three! it get’s a little dramatic this time around, so just a fair warning!! i hope you enjoy it, and once again comments, tips, and critiques are all appreciated!!

disclaimer: all mentions of the university in this fic are purely pulled from my ass— I don't claim to know anything on a deep, spiritual level about university clubs, classes or frat parties. Side characters, that aren't specifically Bangtan Members™, are all made up and therefor fictional .

words: 5k

If you’d prefer reading on AO3 the link is here

I glanced up at the seemingly endless stacks of write-ins, wishing for them to somehow disappear before my eyes. It was chaos in the offices of the News Club. Almost straight after the Fraternity article had been released, there had been letters upon letters of indignant students. Most of them claiming that the article was unjust: an uncalled for attack on Fraternities. Others had deeper questions— wanting to know which House specifically could be held responsible. In other words: it was a fucking mess. Mary, though, having been the main editor and writer of it: was taking most of the heat. And it was quite obvious, with her wearisome behavior as of late.

Mary skidded into the room - weary eyes jumping to every object seen. “El, I’m so sorry.” She sounded panicky, a signal to the rest of the club that she was close to self destruction.

“Mary-” I tried to cut in, using my softest voice, but she wasn't’ having any of it. Instead, she only started bustling around the room more, doing nothing productive, but still working around.

“We’ve definitely lost her, boss.” Jona’s solemn voice cut in, and when I turned to look at him: he was hosting the biggest shit eating grin. “Call her Leo Dicaprio because this girl's sinkin-”

“That’s enough, Jona.” I interrupted, watching as he tried, unsuccessfully, to wipe to pestering grin off his face. He leaned his hand back for Finn to give it an appreciative smack. And once again in my editing career, I wondered if those two possessed any sympathy at all.

Mary continued to bustle around- picking up a letter, cringing, and then repeating with another as she tried to open every single one.

“I should've never suggested this stupid article. I've put the news club in lots of trouble, oh have I ever.” Mary was babbling, hands shaking as she opened letter after letter. I watched hopelessly, letting out little sounds of interruption here and there. Any time she got a little too self degrading. Mary blamed herself for the backlash of the article, though in truth, every member played a part in publishing it. Not that Mary would ever recognize that. The thing was, when Mary went into panic mode, there was no stopping her. She put everything on herself, and tended to cut everyone out. That is, except for Seokjin. He was, seemingly, the only one who could calm her down.

I threw my rubber band ball at the side of Seokjin’s head, causing him to glance at me — looking a little betrayed. I raised an eyebrow back at Seokjin, and mouthed the words ‘go help, dickwit’ at his passive face.

Seokjin gave a secretive smile, and raised his hands in defeat as he moved towards the other girl. I took in the scene, watching as he rested a calming hand on Mary’s  shoulder, before mumbling something softly to her. Probably - ‘follow me’ since the two of them left the room, shortly after.

   Finn gave out a low whistle— and I turned my attention towards the noise, already ready to bully him back into place. “I don’t want to say it but —” He glanced over at Jona, who returned a shrug, to which Finn also shrugged back. The two of them sat shrugging back and forth at each other for a good minute, Jona’s face passive, while Finn looked scandalized.

“Boys, please.” It was no time for me to be cracking up at their strange antics, even though they looked so funny. “Start helping with some of these letters.”

   Finn broke off in a light, breathy chuckle, while Jona remained a passive face- clearly acting still for the jokes. “C’mon, Cobra Commander, it is her fault.” He sounded set in his opinion. “It was her idea in the first place- we all told her it was a bad one.” He cleared his throat. “Which is why she should be the one to deal with these letters.”

   Jona gave an agreeing nod, his face finally normal, if not a little serious.

   I raised an eyebrow at the two boys, more disappointed than anything else. “You’re going to blame her?” Even I could hear the beginnings of venomous anger seeping into my voice, which explained why both of the boys held such defensive poses now. “When you two were the ones urging her to turn it into the drama piece it became?!”

“No one told her to go around attacking random people,” Jona’s own irritated voice shot back at me. “Honestly, it’s no wonder she’s made some enemies, she basically defamed the most popular boy at our university - with no hard truth. Or have you forgotten about this?” He tossed the latest print my way, a paragraph dedicated to one singular person highlighted in bright yellow.

Though one boy stands out from the rest, Jeon Jungkook, member of the Sigma Chi fraternity. Who has made a rather wondrous show of partying ,not only on weekends, but throughout the week as well. Going as far to even skip classes. And seeing as though he is, somewhat, of a celebrity at our school- its no wonder that he’d be the one to start this binge drinking trend...

I closed my eyes, pinching the bridge of my nose with one hand. This part Mary had done solely on her own, without even consulting anyone on the team before publishing. A real shocker to us when we found out. She had been rather upset with how Jungkook had acted at the interview, and even more put off by how easily affected she was by his looks. Basically it was an unwarranted vendetta.

   When Finn spoke again, it was in a much more diluted tone, his voice only holding confusion. “So tell me why we should be responsible for her mess.”

   I glanced up and swallowed the insults that wanted to fly out of my mouth. Collecting my things in my arms, I stood up and moved towards the door, trying to think clearly with all the emotions running rampant in my head.

   “Boss-”

   I couldn’t make out who had called after me, didn’t have the energy to find out either. “When you can tell me why you should defend a friend,” I shook my head, unable to comprehend it, “then I’ll come back.” I glanced back at the two of them - expressions open. “I mean, really, you two act like you’ve never made a mistake before.” Without waiting for a response, I opened the door and left for the library.

track: there’s nothing holdin’ me back - shawn mendes

Walking to the library was, in normal circumstances, an enjoyable route where I could spend the time in my thoughts, but now- with the absolute lack of anything to take my mind off the situation: it made me cringe to arrive at the library with absolutely no plan in mind.

   Normally, this was my time to be studying with Namjoon. Or, moreover, getting tutored. Kim Namjoon was a Senior, and head of the Science Club, but he was also my savior. He had tutored me in almost every science course that I struggled in (which was most of them), and for a cheap price too. A true angel sent from god.

   I had canceled our usual session in favor of the “Newspaper Club emergency meeting”, but standing here now, I wished desperately that I could call Namjoon back and beg him to give me the original tutor session. I sighed deeply, moving through the rows of empty desks - lined by bookshelves. The school library was massive; extending three floors, each with study sections. In my first year of university I used to pretend the library belonged to Hogwarts - and that I was in some sort of wizarding school.

   The memories pulled a light smile onto my lips, making me wish to be back in the beginning again. I quickly pulled open my books, not wanting to get distracted by the nostalgia that clung onto my thoughts.

Studying Chemistry even with a tutor was difficult. Studying Chemistry by myself made me want to fling myself into the endless abyss of space. Nothing made sense. Nothing. I stared at the equations, uselessly, cursing the College planners for making this a “core” subject. When was I ever going to need to balance an equation while filming movies? My head hurt, and the endless sets of letters and numbers that stood before me didn’t help.

“Ugh,” I dropped my head uselessly onto the desk in front of me, feeling like death would be a more welcome addition to this day. There were four beats, four beats, of holy silence. Right until the chair beside mine squeaked against the floor; indicating that someone had occupied the place next to me. Right next to me. Out of all the empty chairs in the room, this one. How tragic.

I probably could've lifted my head, probably should've, but no part of me wanted to show my face to anyone. So I hoped, that whoever was next to me, wasn't offended by my lack of acknowledgement.

   “Having a rough go of it?” A familiar drawl came from the ‘intruder of personal space.’

I almost wanted to groan at how obvious my life seemed to playing out. I lifted my head slightly, resting my chin on my arm, to look at Jungkook. He seemed to be mirroring my position - head resting against his bent arm, his hair fluffy, looking masterfully disheveled. Somehow, he always managed to look like the personified version of a god. I wanted to smack him for it.

“So is that what you do? Trash someone in an article and then nap off the bad feelings?” He held a smile, looking like the concept was hilarious— but his words made me cringe, and Jungkook took definite noticed of my distaste.

“Jungkook—” I tried to start but when I returned my sight back to him, he was fixing me with such a concentrated look that I immediately felt uncomfortable. I sat up abruptly, and somehow he took this as an invitation to invade my personal space. Because, moments later, he leaned in- ridiculously close to me.

Basically stretched across my lap, with elbows resting on the desk, Jungkook was peering down at my chemistry book with a look of intense interest. Or at least, I assumed, considering all I had a glimpse of was the back of his head.

“All your equations are unbalanced.” He commented, voice sounding much more like a professor than the frat boy. “Did you even try to correctly place co-efficients?” I flushed, the feeling of being in a ‘classroom setting’ hitting me like a brick. I couldn't see his face, but I could only imagine what type of incredulity it held. I wanted to burrow further into my sweater. I wanted to retort back, sneer that he probably knew less than I did. But I was far too concerned with the proximity between us to do anything of that sort.

He pulled back— far enough to finally be out of my lap, but still close enough where I could see the light golden flecks that swam in his dark eyes. “Are you studying? Or making John Dalton roll in his grave?” His voice was low even though it held only amusement, for some reason it sent shivers up my arms. It was a mystery to the world how he made bullying attractive.

His eyes still held that full intensity, and it was oddly both intimidating and flattering to have his full attention directed at me. “Eh..” I gave a light shrug, watching Jungkook’s eyes follow the movements like a sniper trained on it’s target. “Why aren't you mad?” The words that chose to came out my mouth were definitely tension breakers, which is what I needed right now. And they definitely threw the boy off.

I took in the switch of emotions on Jungkook’s face— his eyes changing like the seasons in front of me. A look of indignation snapped on his face at last, making me wonder how he could always remain combative. “Trust me, I am thoroughly enraged by the travesty of your Cobalt and Carbon Monoxide-”

I scoffed, slamming my hand lightly on the desk, “The article, Jungkook.”

He tilted his head at me, his face finally dropping the act of “rage” and landing on something along the lines of soft. “Why would I be mad?” he rested his chin on his hand, brown eyes searching mine. “You didn’t write that.”

“Yes but I aided in that.”

His lips quirked into a smile, and my stomach flopped. “Your reaction right now is telling me you wish you hadn’t.”

I swallowed, feeling completely outspoken, stuck wondering why I had even tried.

He started at me for a while, and I back. There was absolutely no way to tell what was going on inside of his head. My thoughts were running wild, yelling at me to say something, say anything. But I felt like any words I could spout out were inadequate. How do you apologize to someone for basically trashing their reputation? “Tell me what do to make up for it.”

Maybe it was my imagination, but I thought I saw a flicker of surprise flash across his face, for only a split second. Although, I couldn’t be sure, because right after he was fixing me with an amused grin. “One question?”

I spluttered, thrown off. “What?”

“Let me ask one question?” He was watching me intently, like I was some endangered animal that needed cautious wording.

I nodded, preparing myself for the worst - what kind of monster are you? Was this your plan all along? Who else have you potentially def-

“What’s in your bag?” His real question caught me off guard, and I followed his line of vision to where he was staring right at my film bag.

I shuffled a bit, uncomfortable and suddenly embarrassed. “My camera, equipment, and stuff.”

“What do you need that for?”

The genuine curiosity in his voice is what made my shoulders loosen, he didn't seem mocking or berating. Or any sort of teasing. His face held genuine interest, and it made me warm up instantly. “I'm a film major— well, film production major.”

Jungkook’s eyes rounded comically, and he glanced back at me with a sort of amazed wonder. “So you're going to make movies and stuff—”

I let out a little gasp of a laugh, trying not to associate him with my brothers when he seemed to mirroring them exactly. Young, naive. “I want to tell stories. Make people feel something.” I shrugged, looking around the library and realizing that we really seemed to be the only two on this level. “So, yeah.”

Jungkook nodded, seemingly understanding exactly what I was talking about. I had no idea what this was, I hadn’t ever said more than ten words in one setting with the boy, and now here I was sharing my life goals and aspirations as if we were childhood best friends.

I moved my attention back to my books, also realizing that this was the first time Jungkook had ever appeared somewhat serious around me. It was unnerving, and as much as I disliked his ever present amusement: I was suddenly wishing for it back. I started packing my books, and I could practically feel Jungkook’s curious gaze boring into the side of my face.

“I actually have a shoot today- filming,” I had no idea why I started giving the explanation, it was just- something about leaving Jungkook staring and confused that made me feel unsettled. “For my spring project.” I glanced outside the window, taking in the grey clouds- heavy indicators that it was going to rain not too long from now.

Jungkook seemed to be on the same page, because when I looked back at him he held a comical smile on his face. “In the mood for ruining your equipment?” The sarcasm was back, and I couldn’t stop my eyebrow from raising at him disinterestedly. My response seemed to tempt him more, because the smile on his lips tilted higher. “Gonna get some good shots of those rain puddles?”

I shoved my books into my book bag, quickly zipping it up and picking up my things in one swift motion. Deciding quickly that it would be better to keep my mouth shut and temper in check. When I glanced back at Jungkook he raised an eyebrow back at me. I opened my mouth to say something, anything. Another apology, or just yell at him for always being a shit head, but the only thing that came out was: “I'll see you around.”

“I'm just messing with you— you know that?” Jungkook's response made me whip around, and the humor that was on his face had dimmed a little bit. It made my stomach drop. I didn't want him to think he couldn't joke around, normally I would've chastised him for it, but at the moment I felt wrong about doing anything that could potentially be considered unpleasant to him.

I threw back my heartiest smile— hoping it seemed real rather than forced. “Have you gone soft on me, Jungkook?”

I didn't wait for the response, just quickly turned away towards the stairs and the exit.

track: believe - mumford and sons

The second I stepped outside a crack of thunder rang in the sky. I gave a small shiver of fright, hoping desperately that I wouldn’t get caught in the storm. I had given Jungkook the quick excuse of a “filming shoot”, when in reality I just wanted to be home when the storm hit. I had a crippling fear of storms- something I’d brought with me from my childhood.

   The walk to the bus stop wasn’t long, only 20 minutes, but it felt like years under the dark, intimidating clouds. I walked quicker, wishing now more than ever to be able to apparate like a wizard from Harry Potter. The second whip of thunder had me frozen in place, and it was just then that the rain started.

   My whole body gave a full shudder under the coldness of the rain, and I willed my legs to pick up the pace again.

   At the third indication of thunder I couldn’t will myself any further. There was a strange sensation in my body: utter and hopeless fear. It was almost as if some invisible rope had tied itself around my legs.

   A sleek, black buick pulled up to the side of the road,and I turned my attention quickly away from the driver, hoping that they would just continue to drive rather than look my way. In the background I could faintly hear the window being rolled down, maybe even a voice calling out to me. But thunder rung dangerously in the air, and my whole body cringed in a way where I was left squatting on the ground- bookbag forgotten, and arms wrapped around myself in a form of protection. The rain pounded down harder.

   I wanted to squeeze my eyes shut- convince myself this was a bad dream, but before I could - a hand reached down into my line of sight, offering to help me up. I lifted my head, before me stood Jungkook, soaking wet, with my bags slung over his shoulder and his hand extended towards me. “C’mon,” He said lightly, but there was no rush to his voice, no indication of anything even remotely close to amusement. He seemed patient- dark eyes watching me with more understanding than I’ve ever seen - or maybe I was just imagining it.

I grabbed his hand, letting him pull me up easily, basically against his body. He placed a hand gently on my waist, probably balancing me, or maybe for the physical support. I wasn’t sure. All I knew was the physical contact gave a much needed sense of relief. Desperately, I fought the urge to lean heavily against him. “...but the door’s unlocked, you can get in.”  

Whatever he had begun with was lost due to the pelting rain and obnoxious booming in the sky, but I got enough of it to move hesitantly towards the car. I was unsteady, and every time another boom of thunder sounded: I cringed. As I moved towards the car, I thought humorlessly about how at another time I’d be running over just what kind of life Jeon Jungkook lived to be driving a black buick. But at the moment, the relief from the rain, and little sound barrier from the thunder was enough to leave me thanking whatever gods for him to have crossed my path.

The second Jungkook was settled in he turned the radio on- loud. Any evidence of the storm was interrupted by the music playing through the speakers. I looked over at him, a wave of gratitude surging through my body. He stepped on the gas, hair dripping, clothes stuck to his body. I didn’t ask where he was going, didn’t care. I could only stare.

We drove for a while, going nowhere in particular, I assumed.I watched out the window, not recognizing the scenery of wherever we were. And once again, I was surprised to find how little I cared. Neither of us spoke, but the silence was filled with the music that continued to play through the radio.

So open up my eyes, tell me I'm alive.

The car slowed to a halt, stuck behind a red light, and I looked back over at Jungkook to find his attention directed at me as well.

This is never gonna go our way, If I'm gonna have to guess what's on your mind.        I turned down the music a bit, keeping my sight on the radio pad, rather than looking back at Jungkook. “Thank you,” it sounded inadequate to my own ears. There was not enough to say to express my gratitude. I opened my mouth, wanting to say something more, when Jungkook cut in.

   “My sister also.”

His words were simple, but the tone and the shortness of them had me glancing quickly back at him. He wasn’t looking at me anymore, rather at the red light, probably waiting for it to change. I wanted to ask him, touch more on his comment. But even I was bright enough to pick up on what he wasn’t saying. My sister is also afraid of storms. And something about his tone told me he didn’t want to discuss it.

   The light remained red, and when Jungkook glanced back at me I internally cringed at how I must’ve looked -  still staring at him. “Where do you want to be right now?” I knew he was asking if he should drive me home, but I had no desire to be there. I glanced at the clock- 20:13.I thought of my mom, thinking of how worried she probably was. But Jungkook sat in front of me, hair now only beginning to dry, clothes still soaked.

The storm was long over with. There was no reason for me to still be here. Jungkook was still watching me, I shrugged in response. For a moment I was worried that he wouldn’t catch the movement, but his gaze was held against me like he couldn’t look away. I nodded to the light which was now blaring green at us, and Jungkook’s lips tilted up slightly, just a bit.

track: favorite record - fall out boy

“Are you going to drive?” I asked, finding the strength in my voice coming back.

He shook his head a little, and I could practically see the muscles in his cheeks working to hold the smile back. The car kicked into motion, and I couldn’t help my own smile that worked on my own lips.

It was spring, so it was not yet completely dark at this time, but the sun setting in the horizon made for a beautiful viewpoint. We talking about everything, and nothing all at once. The conversation ranging from favorite hamburger condiments to song genres.

“I’m sorry I just can’t see how you can enjoy modern Fall Out Boy when their older stuff is so much better.” Jungkook argued, raising his hands defensively, before quickly returning them to the wheel.

I angled my body towards him- back resting against the car door. “I’m not saying it’s better now, I’m just saying it’s still amazing.” My smile grew at the look on his face.

After a while the conversation got too intense for driving, and he ended up pulling into a Mcdonald's parking lot so he could angle his body towards me, as well, and continue.

I learned more about Jungkook than I ever thought was possible. Not necessarily important things, just little facts about him that made him seem so much personable.

I learned how funny he was, how he could make any topic interesting enough if you just let him babble about it for long enough. I liked listening to him talk about the things he was interested in - like his friends at the frat.

“Do you really think we’re that bad?” He asked after a while of silence between us.

I looked at him, shaking my head once, and then again for good measure. “No, I don’t.” I admitted, watching as a smile crept it’s way back to his face. “But, I’ll have you know I’ve been best friends with Kim Seokjin for as long as I can remember.”

The surprise lit his face up like a christmas tree. “Kim Seokjin?”

I nodded, smiling at the thought of my best friend. He was, no doubt, going to laugh at me for hours after after the news of this night reached him. Jungkook opened his mouth to speak, eyes wide with new information. But before he could my phone exploded with a loud ringing from my bag in the back seat. He raised his eyes expectantly, and I sighed, muttering a quick, “Let’s take bets on who that is,” before pushing myself over the seat- trying to grab it. This, of course, was a hilarious idea to Jungkook and he burst out laughing. Instead of yelling at me for dirtying his expensive-ass car. I rolled my eyes and dug around blindly in my bag as the ringer continued to go and Jungkook continued to laugh.

   I cringed once I picked it up and was met with the Caller ID of my mom. Nearly 11:00 now, and I hadn't let her know anything of my whereabouts. I quickly hit the green receive option, starting off with a “Hi mom…” Just to let Jungkook know not to pull anything funny. I turned my head to glare at him, another warning for him to stop laughing, and he raised his hands in defense.

“Honey? Oh I’m so relieved to hear your voice, you haven’t been picking up any of my calls. Are you okay, where are you?” My mom spoke quickly through the phone, and I was beyond relieved to hear no anger in her tone.

“Yeah, ma, I’m good. I’m- er,” I glanced at Jungkook to see him watching me expectantly back; “Studying,” His eyebrows shot up, and he mouthed the words ‘oh are we?’ back at me. I shooed him with my hand.

“With who?” My mom’s suspicious voice replied back into my ear and I shifted uncomfortably, really glad that she couldn’t see me. I was a horrible liar, and that was increased by 10,000 when it came to my mom.

“With Mary.” I lied quickly, glancing back at Jungkook to see him typing away on his own phone. I let out a content sigh.

My mom continued speaking for a while, telling me to get home before 12:30, and I agreed lightheartedly. I ended the call with a quick ‘love you too’ before shoving the phone back into my bag. “I was, genuinely, expecting a roasting of a lifetime-” I cut off, looking over at Jungkook who seemed to be paying me no attention.

He continued tapping away on his phone, eyebrows drawn together in concentration.

“Jungkook?”

He looked up suddenly, eyes widened in faux innocence. “Jungkook? Who’s that?” He paused, lips tilting up in his tell-tale sign of mischief. “I thought I was Mary?”  I leaned over to whack on the side of the head, which just lead to an eruption of breathy laughs to arise from him.

“Jungkook.”

He continued to laugh, but waved at me in understanding. “Yeah, yeah. I got it. Type in your address.” He nodded to the GPS in the center console, and I followed his orders, if not a little slowly. He must’ve heard my mom's orders of when I should be back. Honestly, I didn’t want to go home. Spending time with Jungkook had taken all of my thoughts from the mess that was currently my life.

The drive back seemed way shorter than the way there, and when we got onto my street we both agreed that it would probably be better if he didn’t pull into my driveway. Of course after Jungkook, looking scandalized, exclaimed - ‘am I just a dirty little secret?!’

He parked a few houses down, but I wasn’t quick to get out. Jungkook didn’t seem to be in a rush either.

   “I know where you live now,” Jungkook broke the silence with a shit eating grin painted on his lips.

   “Creepy.” Was my immediate response, which sent him into a surprised laugh. There was a moment of silence, where I was staring out at the streetlights and Jungkook as well. “Thank you, for everything tonight.” I looked over at him with a soft smile.

   Jungkook opened his mouth, but quickly closed it after- just giving a nod in response.

   I glanced away, feeling the events of the night actually hit me. “Well, I should probably-”

   He coughed out what sounded like a “yeah.” And it dawned on me that he was probably feeling mountains upon mountains of awkward.

I nodded quickly, and opened the door - stepping out of the car with my bags in hand. Jungkook started the car as I did so, and I waved to the set of headlights behind me. Whether he waved back or not, I couldn’t tell.

#hooolllyy shit #i know it's super late but i made up for it with how long this chapter is #holy canoli #i hope you all enjoy!!! #pls leave comments #jungkook fanfiction #jungkook fanfic #jungkook #jeon jungkook #jungkook scenarios #jungkook scenario #jungkook fluff #jungkook smut #bangtan boys #bangtan #bts #bts fanfiction #bangtan fanfiction #kpop #kpop fanfiction #good grief