cherryflickswrites

[cherryflickswrites]

Thanks for letting me know, Della! I know you get so many requests that I thought I'd be better sending it again just in case. And I know for a fact it will be worth the wait, your fics always are! ❤️❤️

Hey Della, I know I asked this before, but I'm not sure if it just got lost in all the other requests, or if I've just not given you enough time. Don't worry about it if you're not interested in writing it for me, I won't be offended.

Anyway, here's the prompt:

James Potter falling head over heels for the seeker from one of the other teams, because they might be rivals but damn is she cute when she's focused on beating him! Loving rivalry and a little light teasing <3

GIRLLL I LOVED THAT REQUEST!!!

And don’t worry, this request is worth writing for. The good part is I have started writing it!! It’s in my drafts and soon will be posted too!! I will make sure to add the link here!! You can also find it in my master lists. I absolutely loved writing that fic, will be posting soon!! 😘😘

name : Catch me if you can 🫶🏻🫶🏻🫶🏻

[cherryflickswrites]

Please excuse me whilst I scream over here, this was simply too cute for me to handle ❤️

Can I just express how much I adore your use of italics. It adds so much expression to all your writing and I love how sassy it makes Harry seem. Also, Hedwig having physic powers is just too accurate 🥰🥰🥰

Found myself doing this is a boring class, thought it would be a cool fic idea:

YN writes her crush's initials on her wrist's pulse point and he finds out.

Harry/fem!reader

Ink and Impulse ♡ | H.Potter ★

"Look, I didn’t mean to fall for the girl who writes initials on her wrist like she’s living in a teenage diary entry… but then I found out they were my initials, and well — what was I supposed to do? Not tease her relentlessly and then fall hopelessly in love? Yeah, right."

pairing : Harry Potter x fem!reader

summary : Writing your crush's initials on your wrist is harmless… unless your crush happens to be Harry Potter, who’s absolutely insufferable once he finds out.

warnings : Light teasing and playful embarrassment, Secondhand embarrassment (Harry is a menace, you've been warned), Excessive flirting and wrist kissing, Mild language, Shameless romantic fluff, Ron being utterly clueless, Hermione being 100% done with everyone, Boyfriend Harry with zero chill. Please let me know if I missed any.

author's note : English is not my first language, so please forgive me for any grammatical errors or spelling errors. Re-blogging is completely fine with me, but please don't copy my work. I love you all. Enjoy <3.

della's note : This was such a cute idea!!! Thanks for requesting lovie!

word count : 0.7k

navigation <3

banners : @/roseschoices and @/cafekitsune

It started as a stupid impulse. You were bored in History of Magic — and Merlin, no one should be blamed for what they do while Binns drones on about goblin uprisings. So you did what any mildly lovesick teenage girl with a quill and a wrist would do.

You wrote his initials.

Small. Delicate. Right over the soft thrum of your pulse point.

H.J.P.

And then promptly forgot about it. Sort of.

Well, not really.

You tried to forget about it, but it was hard when every glance at your wrist made your heart do a stupid little jump, and when every accidental brush of Harry’s hand made the ink feel like it was burning.

And of course, life wasn’t satisfied with letting you pine in peace.

No, because Hermione noticed first.

“Did you write something on your wrist?” she asked, peering across the breakfast table.

You yanked your sleeve down so fast it was like you’d been caught with contraband. “Nope.”

“Definitely saw a letter,” Ron muttered, biting into his toast. “A J or a P or something. Is it... a crush?”

“I—no!” you choked, already planning your dramatic escape. “It’s just notes. For class. Revision strategy.”

“Right,” Hermione said, too knowingly. “Because when I revise, I always write my O.W.L. material directly over my arteries.”

Before you could swat her with a spoon, a voice drawled behind you—

“Oh? What’s this about arteries?”

Your soul briefly left your body.

Harry Potter—your Harry Potter, the one with the mess of dark hair and eyes that always softened when he looked at you like you were made of something more than bone and breath—plopped himself down next to you with a crooked grin.

“Apparently,” Hermione said sweetly, “someone’s been doodling on her pulse point.”

“Oh?” he asked again, this time turning directly to you. “What were you doodling?”

You swore his voice dropped an octave.

“Nothing,” you said too quickly.

“Mm.” His eyes drifted to your wrist, half-covered by your sleeve. “So if I just... had a peek—”

You slammed your hand under the table.

“Harry James Potter, I swear on Merlin’s left sock—”

“Is it... my name?” he asked, and smirked.

That was it. That was the moment you realized you were doomed.

Hermione audibly gasped. Ron dropped his toast. Hedwig, wherever she was in the castle, probably looked up with a sense of psychic foreboding.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you muttered. “Shut up.”

“Oh, this is brilliant,” Harry laughed, practically bouncing in his seat. “You like me. You wrote my name on your skin.”

“Initials!” you hissed. “And I was bored!”

“You wrote my initials on your pulse point, sweetheart,” he said, absolutely reveling in your horror. “That’s, like, sixteen levels of emotionally unhinged. Are you planning our wedding, too?”

“I was bored!”

“I think I feel faint,” he said, placing a dramatic hand on his chest. “This is the best day of my life.”

You groaned and faceplanted into your arms, wishing for a time-turner so you could slap yourself three hours earlier.

And that should’ve been the end of it.

But no.

Because Harry Potter decided to become a menace.

“Hey,” he whispered in Charms, pulling your sleeve up. “Just checking if my name’s still there. Would be tragic if you moved on.”

“Hey,” he said again at dinner, resting his chin on your shoulder, “thinking about getting ‘(Y/N)’ tattooed. Right over the vein. Want to match?”

And the worst part?

He actually did it.

One evening in the common room, when everyone else had filtered out and the fire was flickering low, he sat beside you with a quiet smile, reached for your hand, and pressed a gentle kiss to your wrist. Right where the ink had faded.

Then, slowly, he unbuttoned his sleeve, turned his arm over, and showed you.

Your name. Right over his pulse point. Written in messy, inky letters.

“I figured,” he murmured, eyes on you instead of the ink, “if you’re going to walk around with my initials like that... I ought to return the favor.”

Your breath hitched.

“You’re horrible,” you whispered, but you couldn’t stop smiling.

Harry looked utterly pleased with himself.

“I know,” he said, brushing his nose against yours. “But I’m your horrible, yeah?”

You rolled your eyes, cupped his cheek, and kissed him.

Somewhere in the corner, Hermione muttered to Ron, “Finally.”

Ron just said, “Took him writing on his own arm, huh?”

[cherryflickswrites]

Three stages of my Lily Evans Potter artwork, which I'm planning to use for a one-shot I haven't got round to writing yet. Hope you like it!

[cherryflickswrites]

Not the fandom I expected it to give me, but who doesn't love Tadashi? ❤️ Thanks for the tag, Della!

Pinterest is setting you up on a blind date, search the following and post the results: fictional character, date, gift, outfit, dessert, love quote.

Thank you for the tag @arcane-vagabond 🫶🏼🫶🏼

Wait guys…does this mean I get to recreate the events of Conflict of Interest 👀✨ iykyk 🫢

no pressure tags: @whatever-lmaoo @treatbuckywkisses @writing-for-marvel @perdidosbucky-yyo @neverthatsirius-jo & whoever else would like to play! 🫶🏼

[cherryflickswrites]

Thanks for the tag, Della 🥰. Also, I got the same result, though I'm not convinced it's a perfect description of me

What Pasta are You? Reblog Game

a little reblog game which I thought might be fun ! :))

not my favourite shape, but not the worse, but accurate description 😭

The link: pasta game

no pressure tags: @user2772636 @lucydixon @lovedrunkmess @godricgryffinsnore @raven-dor @geewaygooner @maysileeewrites @lokiified

[cherryflickswrites]

Why's it gotta happen like that 😭. How has my oneshot which I put all of an hour into writing got more kudos and half as many hits as my long fic which I have put months of brainpower and effort into writing?

[cherryflickswrites]

fred weasley x black!daughter!reader who was placed in the care of walburga (yeah, she lives long enough to raise reader, sigh) when sirius went to azkaban. and it’s basically just really angsty with mentions of walburga’s A+ grand-parenting and fred being there for reader the same way james was for sirius, except there’s a romantic aspect to it LOLLLL (best friends to lovers if you will)

Ashes of the Noble House ♡ | Fred Weasley 𐙚

pairing : Fred Weasley x Black!Daughter!Reader

summary : Raised by Walburga Black after Sirius was sent to Azkaban, you've mastered the art of selective hearing, dramatic sighs, and escaping the curtains before they slap you back. Thank Merlin for Fred Weasley, who somehow always knows how to make you laugh through the trauma.

warnings : Emotional/verbal abuse (Walburga), Toxic family dynamics, Mentions of parental neglect, Mild angst, Comfort & fluff (Fred is your emotional support chaos), Best friends to lovers, Sirius Black mention (Azkaban). Please let me know if I missed any.

author's note : English is not my first language, so please forgive me for any grammatical errors or spelling errors. Re-blogging is completely fine with me, but please don't copy my work. I love you all. Enjoy <3.

della's note : Thank you so so so much for requesting <333. Glad to have you here. Hope you enjoy!!!

word count : 0.6k

navigation <3

banners : @kodaswrld and @cafekitsune

There are few things in the wizarding world more terrifying than Lord Voldemort.

Walburga Black’s parenting style was one of them.

You, unfortunately, were well acquainted with both—though only one ever screamed about “shame upon the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black!” at seven in the morning while launching a soup ladle across the kitchen.

Spoiler: it wasn’t Voldemort.

“Do not slouch. Do not mumble. And for Circe’s sake, do not fraternize with Weasleys,” she’d hiss, eyes gleaming like cursed galleons. “Blood traitors, the lot of them!”

Naturally, the first thing you did at Hogwarts was sit beside Fred Weasley on the Hogwarts Express and fall a little bit in love when he spelled your pumpkin juice into Butterbeer and gave you the cheekiest grin you’d ever seen.

“Black, huh?” Fred said, raising an eyebrow when he asked your name. “Sirius’s kid?”

“Unfortunately.”

Fred grinned, and that was the beginning of it.

── .✦

Your Hogwarts years passed in a blur of dungbombs, secret passageways, and Fred Weasley pretending he wasn’t deeply and irrevocably in love with you (and vice versa, though you were slightly better at hiding it… marginally).

He knew about Walburga, of course. Knew about the letters she’d send you in Howler form just to tell you your socks didn’t match and that you’d brought shame upon the entire line of Phineas Nigellus. Knew about the summer breaks at Grimmauld Place, which felt less like home and more like a haunted museum where the exhibits yelled at you for breathing too loudly.

Fred never made fun of it. Not once.

But he did send you an owl every day you were there—sometimes with enchanted origami dragons that breathed glitter, sometimes with snarky illustrations of Walburga dueling a teapot labeled ‘progress.’

Sometimes he just sent jokes.

Sometimes, it was just: Thinking of you. Hang in there, love.

Those were your favorite.

── .✦

One night, in the middle of summer before seventh year, Walburga had shouted at you for daring to laugh during dinner (“Laughter,” she declared, “is for half-bloods and fools!”) and you’d stormed into your childhood bedroom, shaking with silent rage.

Moments later, Fred apparated into your room without warning.

You nearly hexed him out of his socks.

“She yell about forks again?” he asked, holding up a paper bag of Honeydukes sweets like it was a peace offering. “Or was it the wallpaper this time?”

You didn’t answer.

You just folded into him like a wave crashing into shore.

“Why do you even care?” you muttered against his chest, voice thick with exhaustion and sugar quills. “You don’t have to keep saving me, you know.”

Fred didn’t laugh. Didn’t joke.

He just looked down at you and said, “Yeah, well… James was there for Sirius. Someone’s gotta be there for you.”

You blinked up at him.

And Fred, ever so softly, added, “Except I’m not planning on being just your best mate forever, if that’s alright with you.”

You stared at him.

He shrugged, sheepish. “I mean, unless you’re keen on letting some Ravenclaw steal me away with her O.W.L. notes and emotional stability—”

You kissed him. Right there. In front of the hideous velvet drapes and the ghost of Walburga’s most recent complaint.

Fred pulled back, stunned. “Was that… a yes?”

You grinned. “Unless you’re keen on being hexed by a Black.”

He cupped your face, gentle but sure. “Wouldn’t dream of it, love.”

── .✦

Years later, you’d look back and laugh at how your relationship bloomed in a house that actively tried to kill joy with doilies and judgement.

And when Fred proposed to you right in front of Walburga’s portrait—grinning like a madman as the painting shrieked in the background—you said yes with a smug little smile and a defiant wink toward the screaming canvas.

If Walburga Black could roll in her frame, she would’ve.

And Merlin, it was glorious.

[cherryflickswrites]

Oh my goodness, this is actually too perfect. Also, I can just picture how smug Sirius would look the first time he found out, even if a little piece of him died inside when he discovered Harry wasn't a stag

What do you think would be Harry's Animagus? And why?

Ooooh Anon, I loved this question—it sent me into a proper giggle spiral. Honestly? I think Harry’s Animagus would be a scruffy black labrador. Hear me out: he thinks he’s all broody and mysterious like Sirius, but he’s actually just this loyal, slightly clumsy sweetheart who’d bark at danger and then immediately wag his tail after. He’s got “I’ll fight Voldemort but also follow you home for snacks and cuddles” energy. He’d totally try to act tough but then trip over his own paws, look around all embarrassed, and pretend it didn’t happen. Basically? He’s the type to protect you with his life… but also beg for belly rubs right after.

If he turned into a black labrador (which, let’s be real, is peak Harry energy), he’d 100% be the type to follow Padfoot and Moony around with those big soulful eyes, tail wagging like mad, just happy to belong. He’d probably try to mimic Sirius’s coolness and Remus’s calmness and fail spectacularly—like, attempting a dignified sit next to them but sliding off a rock or sneezing mid-growl. And you know Sirius would pretend to be annoyed but secretly adore it, and Remus would carry snacks just for him. Animagus Harry = clingy dog son of two very tired but very loving Marauder dads.

woo- took too long to think about it and type, but worth it, thanks for the questions anon!!

Please do drop your thoughts too on this question!! 🙋‍♀️💋

[cherryflickswrites]

Snow Day! (Harry Potter x Girlfriend!Reader)

Relationship: Harry Potter x Reader

Wordcount: 1.8k words

Summary: Harry knows full well you love snow, and he loves you.

A/N: I was feeling inspired again, so here you go. Leave me a comment letting me know what you think!

AO3 link, if you would prefer: https://archiveofourown.org/works/65911825

"Come on, love, you need to wake up."

You groaned as a hand landed on your shoulder, shaking you gently in an attempt to rouse you. You were quite happy where you were, hands curled in the soft material of a blanket and face buried in the arm of the sofa.

You heard Harry chuckle as you screwed your nose up, pressing your face into the blanket as his hand disappeared - taking its warmth with it, unfortunately. But, only a moment later, the sofa shifted beneath you as he sat down, leaning over to press a kiss to your forehead.

"Come on, sweetheart, you need to get up."

"Do I?"

"Yep." Harry laughed, wrapping an arm around you and pulling you into a sitting position. You snuggled your face into his shoulder as a replacement for the sofa, cursing the way the cold air was now getting around your blanket and nipping at your bare skin.

"But I don't wanna," you mumbled into his shoulder.

"I know," Harry wrapped his arms more firmly around you, pressing soft kisses into your hair. "But you're in the middle of the common room and it's almost breakfast time."

Finally letting your eyes crack open - and not too happy about how bright the common room was - you realised he was right. Sighing sleepily, you pulled back slightly from Harry, gazing into his mirth-filled eyes for a moment before you nodded your head reluctantly.

"Fine."

"Thanks, love."

It wasn't the first time you had fallen asleep in the middle of the common room with a textbook at your elbow and a quill dangling from your hand, so you knew Harry was going to be less than bothered by the tangled state of your hair and the ink stains covering your fingers.

You bopped him on the nose playfully as you stood up, smiling as he scrunched his nose up. He was simply too adorable. Turning on your heel, you traipsed up the stairs to your room, still wrapped in the blanket, and quickly changed. You didn't really want to, but you also knew you probably should if you were going to head down to breakfast. Plus, your favourite jumper and the comfiest pair of jeans you owned didn't seem like a bad trade for your crumpled pyjamas.

Harry was still waiting in the common room when you made your way back down, dropping the neatly folded blanket onto the sofa and fitting your hand snugly into his with a smile. You pressed a kiss to his shoulder, receiving one to the cheek in response, and began to walk towards the door.

"What are we going to do today?" you asked him as you climbed through the portrait hole and dodged around a group of younger students.

"I was thinking we could spend some time outside." Harry was grinning like a maniac and you couldn't work out what he was so excited about. Was there something you had missed? Some important occasion which had slipped your mind? Or was he just in a particularly good mood?

"Why, what's going on?"

"You haven't looked out the window yet, have you?" Harry let out a quiet chuckle as you shook your head.

He quickly directed you to the nearest window and it only took you a second to realise what he meant "It's snowing!"

Harry laughed as you practically sprinted down the stairs to breakfast, suddenly convinced that maybe getting up wasn't so bad. You wolfed down a plate of pancakes doused in syrup and strawberries before returning to the common room to swaddle yourself in your warmest cloak. It had been a gift from Harry the previous year after he had discovered your great love for the cold weather.

Harry handed you your gloves and hat, pulling his on as he followed you through the halls. Dozens of other students were swarming around you, all wanting to get out into the grounds whilst there was still some fresh snow to be enjoyed but still determined to be as well wrapped up as possible.

"C'mon!" you shouted back to Harry, lacing your hand with his and pulling him along as he laughed at your enthusiasm.

"There'll still be plenty of snow when we get there," he told you, voice shining with amusement.

"Yeah, but if we don't get there fast, the Weasley twins will start a snowball fight and then we'll be stuck in the middle of that."

"What are you planning to do, then? If we're not going to have a snowball fight, I mean."

"Well, a snowman of course." You grinned at him. "And I'm hoping the lake is finally frozen enough to skate."

"No way"—Harry stopped in his tracks, his hand nearly slipping from yours as you kept moving—"am I going on that death trap again. Do you not remember last year?"

You did, in fact, but the memory of Harry's grin when he had been doing fine had very much overshadowed the worry when he had fallen through a crack in the ice and ended up spending a week in the Hospital Wing with his lips a rather unhealthy shade of blue. Plus, it had given you a very good reason to hang around him constantly, snuggled up against him whilst claiming you were bringing his body temperature up.

"You'll be fine."

"I'd like to make it through this year without any near death experiences, thank you."

You scoffed at that. "Good luck. You've not got the best track record."

"That is hardly my fault."

You shrugged, letting a broad grin take over your face as you emerged into the snow covered courtyard. You stopped for a moment, letting the delicate flakes fall on your face, crowning your hair and brushing over your skin, melting as soon as they did so.

Letting out a loud whoop, you dragged Harry out into the grounds with you, struggling to run through the fluffy snow.

"Hang on a sec," Harry muttered as he followed after you, pulling his wand from a pocket in his jeans. "Hermione was telling me about a Charm this morning."

A complicated swish of his wand and a muttered spell later, you were staring at him as you tried to work out what he'd done. It was only when you took another step that you realised your boots weren't clumped with snow anymore, making it a lot easier to move across the frozen grass.

"It stops the snow sticking to you. 'Mione said it would stop your clothes soaking through."

"She's such a legend."

Harry nodded his agreement, wrapping an arm around your waist as you slipped in the snow, catching you just in time.

"Thanks," you whispered as you found yourself gazing into his eyes, your faces close together. You may have been dating for more than a year now, but you still blushed dramatically when he stared at you like that.

Harry swooped to press his lips to yours in a quick kiss, frozen but perfect, before he pulled back and grinned. "How do you feel about snow angels?"

"Great," you replied dazedly, earning a proud grin from your boyfriend. He liked the effect he had on you.

Your hands stayed connected as you dropped to the ground together, dragging your limbs through the snow to form snow angels. Heat radiated through his gloves, though perhaps it was partially in your imagination as the warmth soon spread through your body, settling happily in your chest.

•• ━━━━ ••●•• ━━━━ ••

Curled up in the common room that night, with your legs tossed over Harry's and your head resting on his shoulder, you wondered if it was even possible to have a better day than that one. Your snow angels had been swiftly followed by an enormous snow man - which you had rolled by hand, despite the many other students simply using their magic to create picture perfect beings. He had been rather lopsided and his eyes had been different sizes because - despite Harry's best efforts in comparing dozens of them - you hadn't been able to find two rocks which matched. Plus, the carrot you had managed to bagsy from the ones laid out by the house elves had been incredibly misshapen, passed over by your classmates for the more aesthetically pleasing vegetables.

But you and Harry had stood back and smiled at your creation when it was finished, unconcerned by the second years behind you laughing about how rubbish it was (Harry had, however, magicked some snowballs to whack them in the face when you were leaving, because how dare they offend something which you loved).

And you had managed to convince Harry back onto the lake after all, keeping your fingers interlaced and your eyes locked on him the whole time to make sure he didn't slip and fall. His movements had been stiff and uncertain at first but eventually he had loosened up and you had had a perfectly lovely afternoon spent skating amongst the other couples and groups which had taken up their places on the ice.

You had joked quietly amongst yourselves about the sight of Ron and Hermione on the other side of the lake, skating with their hands joined together with the claim that Ron would have fallen over otherwise, though the two of you both knew full well that Ron had spent his childhood skating on a pond near the Burrow. Whether Hermione knew that or not was a mystery to you, and Ron was certainly doing a good job of pretending to slip every few minutes to keep up the act.

"I love you." Harry's words broke through your thoughts and you turned your head to face with a soft smile pulling at the corners of your lips.

"I love you too," you whispered back, reaching up to brush a strand of hair off his forehead. "Thanks for today."

"It's all worth it for that smile."

You indulged him, letting the smile spread as you continued to run your fingers through his hair. It was going to need cut soon enough, but you couldn't deny that you loved the way it refused to be tamed.

"Did you know," you whispered, leaning in to press a kiss against first one of his cheeks and then the other, "that we're sitting under mistletoe?"

Harry's smile carried a hint of mischief as he cupped a hand around your jaw, leaning in close before he murmured, "Why do you think I chose to sit here?"

"Like you need an excuse."

He didn't let another word escape your mouth before he sealed his words with a kiss, both of you shifting to sit even closer together as you hung onto the moment, unwilling to let it end. It was as you sat there together, sharing the simple beauty of a new memory, that you decided the day had been absolutely perfect.

[cherryflickswrites]

A Lost Giraffe (Platonic!Harry Potter X Reader)

Wordcount: 2.3k

Summary: A soft toy giraffe just happens to be the groundwork of a lot of moments in your life including your childhood, your friendship with Harry Potter, and the reappearance of your father, Sirius Black.

POV: Reader, past tense

Tags: childhood soft toy, reader insert, Sirius Black needs a hug

Note: Author absolutely adores comments, so please let me know what you thought!

There is something about a child's toy, tossed out a car window in a fit of rage or sorrow, lost to an unforgiving world of car tyres and cold tarmac.

Harry had been barely one the first time such a thing had happened and, much to his parents horror, it wasn't even his own toy he had thrown. It was, in fact, yours. There had been some sort of unnamed dispute in the back seat which had ended with your favourite toy giraffe chucked out the tiny gap and into the great unknown. You had stared at him for a few moments in pure, unquestioned silence... and then you had screamed.

Lily had almost crashed the car she was so shocked, her neck cracking painfully as she spun to see what was wrong with the two of your. Her auburn hair had danced in the breeze coming through her window and her eyes had scanned the two of you desperately before the honk of an oncoming car brought her back to reality and she turned back to face the road. She pulled over in a lay-by two minutes later, but by then it was too late. Your toy was lost and you were practically inconsolable. Harry had also taken up sobbing, more because someone else was than because there was actually anything wrong with him, and he seemed fairly unrepentant for the tears being his fault.

It didn't take long for Lily and James to figure out what was wrong with you, both of them searching high and low throughout the car in the desperate hope that one of them would find the missing soft toy. It was a futile hope and the presence of more than a few Muggles stopped them simply summoning the item. They knew they wouldn't even be able to do it later in the day - it was a busy road and they couldn't risk getting into trouble with the Ministry for breaking the law. They were already on shifty ground as it was.

"Sirius is going to kill us," James said hollowly, running a hand wearily through his hair and staring at his wife. "That toy was her favourite."

Lily bit her lip as she thought, finally nodding before climbing back into the car. "Come on, better get it over with."

In the end, Sirius spent four hours out on the side of the road attempting to find the giraffe that night, taking his canine form in order to avoid the attention of passing Muggles and diving sideways into the brush whenever someone got too close to thinking it was odd there was an animal on the side of the road.

When dawn came and light returned, he came back to his house with exhaustion spread wide across his face and strands of hair escaping the loose bun he had shoved it in. His wife, Ella, met him with an equally weary smile, her arms cradling you.

"How is she?" Sirius's voice was hoarse.

"She only went off half an hour ago," Ella whispered, her eyes dropping shut as she rocked back and forth. "I'm hoping she's fine now, but I'm not sure. I don't want to risk putting her down."

"Get some sleep." Sirius pressed a gentle kiss to her lips as he took you from her, nestling your tiny body in his own arms as he stared lovingly down at you. "You deserve it."

"Are you sure? You must be exhausted." Ella watched him worriedly, though she didn't need much more persuasion to head off to bed, craving the warmth it would provide and more than willing to let her eyes fall shut.

Sirius stayed up for another two hours rocking you in his arms before he fell asleep on a chair in the living room, his neck tipped awkwardly against the back in a way which would surely end up hurting in the long run and his legs stretched out to rest on the table in the centre of the room - an action Ella would have reprimanded him for if she hadn't been so thankful he'd taken you from her.

None of you knew that he would one day find that toy again, and he would return it in a highly unexpected way...

•• ━━━━ ••●•• ━━━━ ••

"Come on, Mum!" you called over your shoulder, pushing the trunk-loaded trolley through the station and earning more than a few strange looks for the sleek black cat stretched across your shoulders, his head resting lazily against your neck. "We're going to be late!"

Your mother sighed, hastening her step slightly in an attempt to keep up with you. She was at a disadvantage, standing just a few inches shorter than yourself and not being near as motivated to get to the train as fast as possible.

"I've not been late yet. How long do you think I've been doing this?" she asked you as she caught up, brushing a strand of waist length hair over her shoulder and fixing her narrowed eyes on you.

"I don't know," you muttered, gazing around the station in hopes of spotting someone you knew, "you're ancient."

"I'm thirty," she corrected. "And that's quite enough cheek from you."

You refrained from mumbling a comment about her asking for it, standing on your tiptoes to gaze out over the sea of Muggles, hoping for a familiar magical face. You sighed as you realised there was no such person there to relieve your boredom.

"I don't know what you're sighing for," your mother said. "Some of us didn't know a single person when we first came to Hogwarts. You're lucky."

"I still need to find someone to sit with."

"I'm sure there'll be someone. Isn't the Weasley boy meant to be starting this year?"

You would have snorted at the vague statement if you couldn't feel the butterflies writhing in your stomach. "Ron, yeah."

"That's the one. Why can't you sit with him?"

It wasn't so much that you had anything against Ron as that you always felt distinctly awkward around him thanks to a particular playdate in which Fred had announced his youngest brother had a crush on you. Ever since, you always felt as though he was embarrassed enough he might explode when he was around you and you hated having to try to ignore the uncomfortable situations.

"Maybe."

Your mother let out a long sigh, her dark eyes fixed on you as she muttered, "This would be so much easier if your father were here."

You had heard the words before on many occasions. So much, in fact, that you could have guessed she would say them. There hadn't been many occasions over the last ten years on which your mother and you managed to have a day out without her wishing for your father's presence. It had taken her a long time to explain where he had gone, though, and she had done her best to make sure that the past didn't lie on your shoulders even if she still went on about him all the time.

For a start, she had changed all of your records so you were registered as a Linder rather than a Black, hoping that the change in name might be enough for people to overlook the features you had inherited from your father. Sometimes it worked and sometimes it didn't, but you were hoping that you would be able to make it more than a few weeks at Hogwarts without anyone working it out. Just so long as none of the Weasleys slipped and mentioned it...

Anyway, you knew that it was bound to happen eventually and you had resigned yourself to the fact that your father's actions would forever haunt your steps, regardless of whether or not he had actually committed the crimes. Your mum was convinced he hadn't, but every other record of the incident seemed to say otherwise and you couldn't remember enough of the man to form your own opinion, so you were left constantly hanging in the balance.

The farewell between you and your mother wasn't particularly touchy-feely; there weren't any tears involved and she left the station almost as soon as you were on the train, claiming she had to get to work. You didn't call her out on the lie, knowing that it must be difficult to see the train again after so many years when it held so many memories of her younger years. Still, it would have been nice of her to act as if she cared that she was sending her little girl off to school for a whole year.

Marching onto the train, you lugged your trunk behind you, already wishing you were able to use the levitation charm to carry it. It would make life a lot easier for you and it would save you a lot of aching muscles later.

Finally finding yourself at a compartment with only one occupant, you dropped your trunk, wincing at the loud thud. Taking a long breath, you decided you probably weren't going to do any better than this - you might not have been late to the train station, but there weren't many empty spaces left and they were filling up fast.

Fixing your most confident expression on your face - and not knowing how scarily reminiscent of your father you looked - you slid the door across, pretending you didn't notice the way the boy inside flinched at the sound, and strode inside with your trunk in your hand.

"Can I sit?" you asked, though you didn't really give him a chance to refuse as you sank into the seat across from him, quickly introducing yourself.

"Oh, hi, I'm Harry Potter." The boy smiled nervously. Your mouth dropped at this admission.

"You threw my giraffe out the window."

Clearly, this was not the response Harry had expected and he stared at you in total, baffled silence for a few moments before uttering a confused, "Sorry?"

"You should be. It was my favourite."

It didn't take long for you to recount the few details you had been told of the incident and Harry quickly latched onto the idea of you having known his parents, a reaction you probably should have expected. Soon you found yourself telling him just about every detail you could remember of the time you had spent together as children, though you knew your stories would be slightly skewed by the fact that your mother had shared all of them with you. And you made sure not to mention the part your father may or may not have played in his parents' deaths.

When Ronald Weasley showed up at the compartment door not long after with a trunk in one hand, a rat in the other, and a nervous smile on his face, you decided that you could try to be friends with him and you welcomed him into the compartment with all the grace you could muster.

You had a feeling that the three of you might just turn out to be very good friends...

•• ━━━━ ••●•• ━━━━ ••

"Stop!" The word escaped you in a burst of fury combined with fear, freezing everyone in their tracks and causing the dirt-covered man to turn to face you.

There was something terrifyingly familiar about his face, the steel grey eyes and the elegant features which weren't all that far from your own. It took all your strength to stare him down as you stood in front of Harry, wishing beyond all hope that he wasn't really your father, that this mess of a human being was just some lunatic who believed you were related to him.

He barked out a laugh, harsh and hoarse from years of no use, grinning lopsidedly at you as he muttered, "You're just like her."

"Like who?" you scoffed, though you worried your words didn't hold the bite you had intended.

"Ella, of course."

Anger flared inside you at the words, burning hot and bright as you scowled at him. "You don't know her. And you don't know me."

"I used to." His smile was wistful, but it didn't quell your ire. "Maybe I will again one day."

"You won't."

"I thought you might say that."

You watched as he shoved a hand deep into his torn robes, extracting something you barely recognised. He tossed it towards you and you caught it, hoping that it didn't turn out to be anything dangerous.

The material was muddied and ripped in places, clumps of stuffing escaping from the creature, but it was definitely recognisable as a giraffe.

"Took me twelve years to get it back to you," Sirius Black muttered gruffly, watching as you inspected it.

You couldn't believe it. This was the soft toy which had been lost when you were a baby, the one which had inspired the friendship between you and Harry. And somehow your father had brought it back to you.

"Where did you find it?" you whispered, gazing down at the giraffe with tears gathering in your eyes. Suddenly, you found yourself convinced that your father couldn't be guilty. How could he possibly have gone to the effort to find it if he was such an awful person?

"Don't even ask," he replied, screwing his nose up in disgust. "Do you believe me now?"

It was strange how such a simple action could matter, and yet you were convinced by it. Glancing over at Harry, you could see the same sort of realisation beginning to pool in his vivid eyes and you bit your lip in thought. Moving to stand beside Harry, you looped your hand through his, knowing you were both going to need each other's support here.

"We'll hear you out."

[cherryflickswrites]

Farewell online privacy

[cherryflickswrites]

Flawless ~ Chapter 1: The Full Moon

Hope you enjoy!

She sighed as she watched the second hand tick round, slowly counting out the minutes until she was free. It was funny how time did that, running so slowly it might as well not be moving at all when you had something to look forward to. In fact, it might better be described as strolling rather than running. It was certainly taking its time, if you will pardon the pun.

"Miss Lystra!"

You have rarely seen someone move so fast in their life, the girl's head spinning round so fast that a twinge ran through her neck as she stared at the professor before her.

"Yes, Ma'am?"

"You would do well to listen, as I recall you have never really had a penchant for vanishing."

The girl - who was in fact named Cassie Lystra - sighed as she nodded, picking up her quill - and futilely dabbing at the ink blot it left behind - as she returned to writing notes. She liked Professor McGonagall, and she couldn't deny that the woman was right; she was no good at Transfiguration. And, to be honest, she had just about given up hope of her NEWT going well, especially given her famously bad wandwork.

"Nice going, Claws," the boy beside her muttered, his hazel eyes sparkling with mirth as her cheeks warmed. "You didn't even try not to get caught."

"Yeah well, not all of us are as good at this as you are, Prongs," Cassie muttered back, subconsciously curling the edge of the parchment as her eyes flickered periodically towards the clock. "And besides, you know what today is."

James's gaze turned momentarily towards the empty seat two rows in front of them, "We'll be with him soon, Cassie, there's nothing we can do for now."

"That doesn't make me feel any better, Prongs."

Cassie was out of her seat almost before the bell had finished ringing, books and parchment swept carelessly into her bag as she threw it over her shoulder and hurried out of the class. Her feet carried her swiftly through the crowds, never faltering as she wove her way through the hundreds of other students all wending their way to their next classes. If there was one thing Cassie was sure of, it was that students moved way too slowly between their classes, stopping at every corner to chat to their friends, or laughing and joking as they threw books at each other.

She couldn't even bring herself to enjoy the carelessly beautiful magic which filled the halls, moving as fast as possible through the corridors.

"Slow down, Claws," James called as he jogged after her. He may be a Quidditch player, but his wider frame meant it was far more difficult for him to fit through the gaps between people, stumbling over his feet and apologising to people left, right, and centre as he bumped into them. "He'll still be there in thirty seconds."

"He shouldn't be there at all, " Cassie muttered petulantly, her brow creased in worry. "It's not fair."

"I never said he should," James replied evenly, reaching out to pull her out of the path of a couple of first years, mouthing an apology back at them as he did so. "You know we all think that. But it's not as if we can do anything about it."

"But what if there was?" Cassie turned to him with a deep crease filling the space between her eyebrows. "I mean, it has to be possible, right?"

"Claws, we're teenagers, you do know that right?"

"We're practically adults, Prongs, we've got to make an impact at some point."

James sighed with all the air of a man who had had this exact argument multiple times before. It would not be inaccurate to assume he had.

Cassie paused as they reached the door to the hospital wing, pressing her ear against the lock and closing her eyes as she listened closely.

"He's awake," she muttered, shooting James a tight-lipped smile as she pushed the door open.

Remus Lupin lay in a bed in the far end of the ward, his sandy hair splayed around his head in a - slightly clumped - halo. He looked awful. It didn't matter how many times Cassie saw him like this, it always made her feel physically sick to see him lying there looking so absolutely exhausted. There was just something about his pallor, combined with the aubergine shadows beneath his eyes which made him look deathly ill, and there was nothing worse than seeing him lying there every month.

"Moony," she muttered, unable to pretend she didn't notice the way he flinched at the sound. It was always difficult to talk to him around this time of the month, his ears were just far too sensitive for anything over than the faintest whispers from the opposite side of the room. It was the reason Madam Pomfrey always purposefully spelled a muffled area around his bed when there was anyone else in the ward, but that wasn't the case this month.

Cassie always wondered if anyone had ever noticed the dramatic decrease in Slytherins ending up in the Hospital Wing around the full moon. James and Sirius always took a week off pranking to make sure Remus had the best chance possible to avoid headaches, though they seemed almost inevitable at this point. Instead, they usually spent the week plotting so they could set up a bigger prank over the following few days, when Remus was still too sick to object to their more risky schemes, but he was well enough to not struggle to face the consequences of their actions.

"How are you feeling?" James asked, in a voice so quiet that Cassie would have struggled to hear it if it weren't for her enhanced senses. She had always struggled to understand how James could go from so boisterous in one moment, to totally calm and collected the next.

Remus gave the vaguest hint of a shrug, wincing at the tiny movement and then wincing again at the wince. He always had difficulties moving in such a way that it didn't cause him pain, but they all knew that it was inevitable. That was why James still forced Cassie to go to classes: he didn't think there was any point distressing Remus when it wasn't going to do them any good either.

"We brought you some-" Cassie thrust her hand into her bag, rustling around for a moment before pulling out a slightly squashed chocolate rabbit. "-Cadbury's."

That brought a smile to Remus's lips, his hand moving from its limp position on the bed to take it from her. "Thanks."

His voice was crackly and hoarse, but it was still good to hear him speak. Some months he couldn't even manage that. Those were usually the months they struggled to control the wolf the most.

"That's the only bunny you're allowed to eat this month," James told him with a smirk. "Enjoy it."

Remus let out a choked laugh at that, but he didn't hesitate to unwrap the corner of the foil and snap a piece off, slowly raising it to his mouth. He looked much calmer after he'd eaten it, and a faint hint of colour returned to his cheeks. Cassie had never really understood the magical properties of chocolate, but anything that made Remus look alive at this time of the month was pretty great in her book.

As they flopped down into two of the armchairs beside Remus's bed, James carefully extracted a sheaf of papers from his bag.

"And your daily dose of notes," He set them down on the bedside table - which really wasn't big enough for all of the stuff Remus had managed to cram on it over the last two days. Every time any of the Marauders came to visit him, they brought something with them, and it had become a sort of a game to them over the years to try and find the most awkwardly shaped things. They all knew that Remus would never dream of setting anything on the floor, for fear of offending someone more than anything, but also because they were more likely to get dusty and moth-eaten down there. James had once tried to point out to him that nothing was going to be down there for more than a day or two, but the glare he had received from Remus was more than enough to put anyone off trying to tell him again.

Remus took the notes, giving them a cursory glance over before he set them down again. Cassie noted absentmindedly just how good James's handwriting was getting - he always put more effort into the notes for Remus because he knew the other boy would actually make an effort to learn and study them. James's own notes were essentially non-existent, more filled with little doodles than anything.

"Where's Wormtail?" Remus mumbled around another mouth of chocolate. "And Padfoot? They've not been to see me yet."

"Huh," Cassie exchanged a glance with James. It hadn't occurred to her that neither of the others had been in class that morning, but now that Remus pointed it out it seemed obvious. "I... actually have no idea."

James offered a shrug in response. "I've not seen them much this week. I don't know if they've got other plans, but I'm very offended they didn't include me if so."

Cassie lightly slapped his arm in response, gesturing to Remus, who was rolling his eyes at them. He was too used to his friends' shenanigans to think there could be any lie in the answer, but he still liked to pretend not to be the mastermind behind their ideas. Cassie had no idea how he was considered a golden boy by all the teachers.

"How are you feeling, Moony?"

Remus scrunched up his nose, tugging the sleeves of his worn brown jumper further over his hands as he took another bite of chocolate. "Not great, believe it or not."

Cassie let a smile rise to her lips. "I never would have guessed."

"Yeah, you look in peak health, Moony," James added, tucking his feet up onto his chair so he could sit cross-legged. "I reckon they could let you out now, mate, nothing wrong with you."

The room filled with their laughter - kept as quiet as possible, for Remus's sake - as they continued to chat and joke together. They had long since found that it was the best way to fill the long hours which stretched out before the full moon.

As the afternoon wore on, Remus's face grew paler - which Cassie hadn't known was possible - and his eyes began to droop closed. Cassie and James didn't need to discuss it to know that it was time for them to leave, and they stood silently as Remus's hand fell limply on the covers and his eyes stayed shut.

James scribbled a note to let him know they'd gone to dinner, tucking it just under the edge of Remus's chocolate bunny as they snuck out the room. Their Animagus traits suddenly came in useful as they tiptoed as silently as possible, knowing that the slightest sound could wake Remus if they weren't careful.

Cassie rubbed her eyes as James slowly closed the door behind them. She couldn't help feeling exhausted, and she knew that they still had a long night ahead of them. They weren't likely to catch more than a few hours of sleep that night, not ideal when they would still be expected to show up at classes the following day.

"You alright, Claws?"

"Yeah," Cassie let James wrap his arm around her shoulders, suddenly realising just how cold it was out in the corridor. She hadn't brought her jumper with them, and now the sun was disappearing over the horizon there was an eerie chill in the air. She couldn't help thinking it was a sort of omen for the night to come. "Come on, let's get to dinner. I'm starving."

Sirius and Peter were waiting for them at the dinner table when they arrived, their plates already piled high and their glasses full of what Cassie suspected was pumpkin juice. She screwed her nose up at the thought, instead accepting a pitcher of water from the girl beside her to fill her glass.

"Where were you two this afternoon?" she muttered as she sank into the seat beside Sirius. "We missed you, and so did Moony."

Sirius and Peter exchanged a guilty look, but neither of them seemed will to tell the others.

"Erm," Sirius's eyes flickered around the room, looking for something - anything - to stall. Cassie knew this manoeuvre all too well, she was well versed in the practise of putting other people off the scent. "Well..."

"What did you do?" James asked, suddenly looking slightly concerned.

Cassie noted Sirius's unintentional glance towards the Slytherin table. Following his gaze, she realised that Severus Snape was staring right back at their little group, his dark eyes clearly glimmering with something malevolent, even from across the hall.

"Has this got something to do with Snivellus?" she mumbled as she piled bacon onto her plate, hastily shoving it into a roll and taking a bite. She knew she needed as much meat as possible if she was going to spent the night in her Animagus form.

"Erm, well... yes." Sirius looked worried now, his lips tightly pursed and his hands clasped so tightly that Cassie suspected his fingernails must be biting into his palms.

"Padfoot, you're worrying me, what did you do?"

The intensely panicked look on Sirius's face didn't make Cassie feel any better and she dropped her roll back onto her plate as she focussed all her attention on the boy sitting diagonally across from her.

"Wormtail..." she trailed off as she fixed the boy with her sharpest stare, letting a glimmer of her Animagus power flow through her to turn her eyes an eerie yellow shade. She knew that Peter would be frightened enough by the action to spill the beans, and she was right.

Peter blurted something so fast that Cassie couldn't help exchanging a glance with James to see if he'd caught any of it. The boy shook his head subtly.

"Again, Wormtail, slower this time. What happened?"

"We... well we," Peter's expression was uncomfortably pinched, his front teeth worrying his bottom lip as he forced himself to repeat it. "We may have told Snivellus about Moony."

Cassie froze, the breath stolen from her lungs as she stared at the boy in total confusion. He couldn't possibly mean what she thought he meant... there was no way that either of them would be that stupid... that they would risk everything like that.

"What exactly did you tell him?" James's voice was deathly calm, his eyes wider than should be possible as he stared at the two boys.

"I... I think we should go somewhere else." Sirius mumbled weakly, his fingers worrying the hem of his shirt.

"No, no," Cassie hadn't expected the words to fall from her lips, but she suddenly felt very certain that the boys meant what she thought, and she also recognised the deep swirl of anger welling up within her. "I think you want witnesses, just in case I murder you."

Sirius's terrified expression was all she needed to confirm her deepest fears and Cassie wished she hadn't eaten the few bites of bacon roll. She felt sick to her stomach at the mere thought of what they'd done.

"Come on," James muttered, wrapping his arm rather forcibly around Peter's shoulders and standing from the table. "Let's get out of here."

It took everything Cassie had in her to school her face into a neutral expression as she and Sirius followed James's lead. If anyone thought it strange that the Marauders were leaving so soon into dinner, they didn't say anything about it. Most of them were too focussed on their own conversations to think anything of it, and the few others who would care had become used to their comings and goings.

James led them all up to the top of the Astronomy Tower before he allowed anyone to speak. He drew the Marauders' Map from his pocket, laying it out on the ground and consulting it for a moment before he turned to Cassie.

"Cast a muffling charm-" Cassie did so without hesitation, her knuckles white as they clenched the wand. "-I'm pretty sure we're alone, but I don't fancy risking it. We've got enough issues for one evening."

With the knowledge that they were encased in their own little bubble, anger rose up in Cassie once more, making her hands shake. She had to press her lips together to contain the words which threatened to spill from them. She knew that they had to get all the answers first.

It seemed the relative safety of the Tower was enough for Sirius to come to terms with them knowing. The story came from him in a rush of words and anger. His face told them everything they needed to know about him feeling bad about his actions, but it was clear there was still a hint of self-righteousness in his eyes. He felt guilty about Remus, but not for trying to get Snape killed. And there was no doubt in Cassie's mind that that was what would happen if Snivellus followed Sirius's instructions for getting past the Whomping Willow.

James's face was growing redder with every moment, though Cassie could tell that he was trying to keep it together. James had always been the 'mother' of their group, determined to keep the rest of them safe whilst still indulging their passion for mischief, and moments like this were always the greatest test of his patience. He didn't want to push Sirius away, but they all knew that he had to understand what he had done.

"Why?!" The word was practically shouted and it took Cassie a few moments to realise it had come from her. "Why would you do that?"

It was only as Sirius stared at her with ashen face that Cassie realised there were hot tears streaming down her cheeks. She couldn't understand him; they had spent the last four years - since they had first found out about Remus's secret - trying their hardest to protect him in any way possible, it was totally ludicrous to think of any of them doing something like this.

"He- he was- well-" Sirius spluttered, trying to find any excuse to defend himself. A scoff escaped Cassie's lips, her hands desperately trying to wipe her eyes as she stared at him.

"He brought up Regulus." Peter admitted, his quiet voice only just audible over the sound of Cassie's rage. "He was asking where Moony was, but it got personal."

"I just don't get it," Cassie mumbled. "How could you do something like this to us? To him?"

"Sirius, did you tell him about us?" James asked, his voice very carefully controlled and his hands clenched into fists at his sides. "Or just Remus?"

Sirius looked shocked at the other boy's use of his first name, it was almost like he had only just realised how much trouble he was in. "I just told him how to get past the Willow. I didn't even say Moony was a werewolf, Snape just implied it and I didn't deny it."

James sighed, long and deep, leaning back on the balustrade and sinking to the floor with his head in his hands. Almost half a minute passed in silence before he said anything more.

"We can't tell Moony about this."

"Prongs, he has to know." Cassie frowned incredulously at him. "This isn't just some little understanding - this could be the end of Remus's life as we know it."

"Don't you think he's got enough to deal with tonight?" James asked her, fingers cupped over his nose and mouth as he raised his head to look her in the eyes. "We can tell him in the morning, but if he finds out tonight he'll panic, and that's the last thing any of us need to deal with. We've got to handle this on our own."

Peter was nodding enthusiastically, his blonde head bobbing up and down like a robot as he twisted his hands nervously in front of him. Guilt was still splashed across his face.

Cassie turned away from them, staring out over the grounds with her hands shoved deep into her pockets. She didn't want to see the scars which covered her fingers, the marks of accidents over the years during the full moon. They all bore the marks of Remus's condition, and she could never bring herself to wish that kind of fate on anyone... not even Snivellus.

"Alright then," she mumbled into the still air, watching the sun sink closer towards the horizon. "If we're going to do this, we've not got much time. What's your plan?"

Read Chapter 2 on AO3

[cherryflickswrites]

Reblogging this because I totally need to reference this in the future

Writing Resources List

I use my blog to share writing resources that I’ve collected over the years. I’ve recently gotten some new followers, so I thought I would make a list of many of these resources for easy reference.  

(However, this is not a complete list of all the resources I’ve posted. For more writing resources, feel free to check out my blog.)

Encouragement for Writers

Writer’s Block & Procrastination

Writing Your Story’s Plot

How to Write a Scene

Choosing a Setting for Your Story

Character Arc & Character Development

Character Traits

How to Write Heroes & Villains

Elemental Magic & Superpowers

Writing Magic Systems

Fantasy Writing & World-Building

Writing Fight Scenes

Swords and Bows

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Romance & Relationship Prompts

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[cherryflickswrites]

Not only better written, but also have more interesting characters and leave me feeling all bubbly inside

reblog if you’ve read fanfictions that are more professional, better written than some actual novels. I’m trying to see something

[cherryflickswrites]

If the Order of the Phoenix had spent book 5 putting their combined brainpower together to work out how to make technology work with magic, the war would have been over so much faster.

Let's be honest, there's no way that perfect Pureblood Lucius Malfoy would dare touch the /muggle/ contraption known as a "phone" even if it would save the lives of everyone he had ever loved. And none of them would be savvy enough to learn how to hack, so Harry would have had a constant stream of information coming to him from everyone else and he wouldn't have been so totally clueless all the time.

He could have followed Ginny's snap location instead of stalking her on the Marauders' Map, and this way he would have been able to chat to her whenever he wanted, so there's no way she would have put up with that 'but you're in danger' nonsense. He could know exactly what was happening with her all the time, so he couldn't have been worried that she was in imminent danger.

And that Quibbler article with Harry's interview would have gone viral on just about every platform out there, and not just in Britain. Everyone all over the world would know the truth before the week was out.

Also, you can't tell me Ron wouldn't have been a genius with coding or something, it would have fit right into his strategic brain.

[cherryflickswrites]

Something I always find really weird in fantasy/dystopia books is how specific the science they're interested in is.

Like, in KotLC, flashers can literally see your cells with a little bit of magic/science, and they have the DNA receptive lockers etc, but they don't seem to have any kind of system for identifying who you're related to, even to the same extent we do. I'm not sure if it's a 'they all live forever so why bother' kind of thing, or what but I just find it bizarre.

Or in Harry Potter, they're all for transfiguration and disapparating and stuff. But you can't tell me that there have never been any Muggleborn physics nerds who have written doctorate level papers on exactly how the physics of that works. They would have a field day with how vanishing things (apparently completely from existence) fitted into e=mc^2.

[cherryflickswrites]

Why on Earth didn't Harry take the 'i open at the close' snitch to the Weasley twins? Like, let's be real; with the combined effort of the Marauders and the Weasley twins they would have cracked that riddle in a little under ten minutes. And then Harry wouldn't have been stuck carrying it around and wondering for the whole book.