kings-hacklebolt-blog

[kings-hacklebolt-blog]

& severus snape‌:

Waking up in a cold sweat, Severus tried to ease his rapidly beating heart. A nightmare. That’s what it was…a nightmare. However, as he tried to sit up and looked around the cold walls of St. Mungo’s, the numerous bodies laying in beds procured a heavy sense of dread. It began to flow over him, making his body cold with terror. As well as the pain of his injuries.

Placing himself back down. Snape gulped. Was this karma? For taking up with the Death Eaters and dark arts - only to betray them for love and even a rekindled friendship on the side of light - and now the former was ripped from him. The ache in his chest swelled, desperately trying to push back the memories of what has come to pass: the violence; the loss. 

Was it worth it? he wondered - even going as far as to question if siding with the light was even in his best interest. All there was was pain. He’d already lost so much; he couldn’t risk losing his best friend either.

They all see him move; it’s actually a warm feeling, at the sight, after cataloging so much death over the course of the night. Terror and mayhem, for what? The Aurors made their rounds through the wards of St. Mungo’s, piecing together any detail they can find about the alleged attack from the victims that were still living while bearing the news of the dead. The others leave Kingsley to approach his bedside, a burden for the highest ranking official in the room. 

He sat down beside the man slowly, frown on his lips as Kingsley tried to find the right words - always tried, but still hadn’t quite found, even after all these years as an Auror. His hands are folded in his lap as he asked calmly, “Do you know where you are? Can I get you anything?” 

His gaze flicked to a nearby water pitcher across the room, a wave of his wand bringing it to the man’s bedside, just in case. He had always been told his voice was soothing. How do you soothe someone who had potentially lost everything among the countless bodies they found? 

“I��m sorry to have to ask you this, but can you tell me anything about what happened to you?” he continued somberly, pulling his Auror badge from his robes. 

Was It Worth It?

[kings-hacklebolt-blog]

& peter pettigrew.

Peter had been on his way home when all hell broke loose. Sparks were flying across the field and he could hear the screams of those caught in them as well as those who were sprinting into the night for any hope to get away. He wanted to move but he was completely frozen in place, fear overpowering him.

It wasn’t until a wooden pole exploded next to him and a sharp piece created a long slash across his forehead that he could finally move overtaken by his terror he fled into the nearest hiding space he could find: an makeshift bar. His hands shook as he fumbled for his want, just getting it out while blood seeped down his forehead, hot and heavy and he needed to wipe it from his eyes, no doubt half covering his face in blood.

He was still there, trying to wipe at the seeping wound and sniffling when another intruded on his hiding space and he screamed, half scrambling away till he was in the corner and looking at the other, his face bloodstained and eyes wide with fright. “I-I-I,” he tired to speak but couldn’t get a word out, breathing heavily and shaking like a leaf in a tornado. From his angle though he saw a hooded figure approaching them and instinct once again kicked it. His want erupted in blue sparks, an unspoken knock-back jinx powered by fear sending whoever was coming at them flying. Peter continued all but hyperventilating, he felt he just c-couldn’t get a full breath.

“P-p-please-” he half sobbed out, eyes closing as more blood seeped down his face. Ashamed of himself but unable to do anything at all. Dead weight.  

Kingsley had reached forward, placing firm hands on Peter’s shoulders, hoping the touch would calm the boy just enough that they could make a strategized escape in the few moments of clarity they both could utilize. Abruptly however, Kingsley heart dropped in his chest, eyes wide as Peter turned his wand on him, and for a second, all the color drained from his face, realizing he and the rest of the Order had been played a fool. 

That is, until a flash of blue flew past his ear, his earring swaying against his neck from the force, Kingsley’s head whipping around to follow it and watching it land almost perfectly into Peter’s target, an approaching Death Eater that he hadn’t even heard. Shocked, his eyebrows shot up, turning to face the boy again with amusement glimmering in his eyes.

“Bloody hell, kid! That was amazing!” Kingsley half laughed, still breathless from adrenaline as he popped his head over the bar to check their radius, but hooded figures were the majority of the swarm around them, more and more of his own people trying to get victims to safety. Green spells flashed across the valley, and he hoped desperately it was the department’s Witch-Watchers doing their job effectively and not the enemy slaughtering his colleagues.

“Peter, hey,” Kingsley sank back down on his haunches at the boy’s side, his hand finding his shoulder again, giving it a reassuring squeeze as he asked, “Peter, I need you to listen to me. I can’t Apparate you out of here, Auror procedure dictates that we ward the area so they can’t escape. We’re going to have to get all the way through Puddleton to the trees, and it’s not going to be easy. I need you to cover me, and I’ll cover you, and we’ll get through this, okay? You can do this, Peter, I promise you. You’re more talented than you know, son. It’s why you’re in the Order. I believe in you. Are you ready?”

There was no time to waste. Peter’s spell had saved them, but also gave away their position. Eyeing Peter again, Kingsley pointed to the first shop closest to them, a decent bit away but enough of a cover that they could plan their next path. It was time to move; he gestured wordlessly for Peter to go, following closely behind him, wand flying in any direction where the shadows moved.

[kings-hacklebolt-blog]

[kings-hacklebolt-blog]

WHERE: Puddlemere Celebration WHEN: near the end of the attack WHO: @redandgoldenboy​

It’s not the same for everybody, but for Kingsley, these tragic occurences always unfolded in slow motion. He had been raised to face chaos with a stoic expression and calm mind, to be the only one in the room who could manage himself and others within the pandemonium. To be the best leader he could when no one else was up for the task.

He doesn’t know how many Death Eaters he’s stunned at this point; the Auror office had been given strict new paramters that all Dark wizards were to be met with deadly force, their violence against innocent masses too dangerous to be matched with only defensive procedures, but Kingsley can’t bring himself to throw death blows at masked faces. His boundaries for justice included judges and juries, and under no circumstance, did he want to play executioner unless absolutely necessary. For now, stuns would have to do. 

Kingsley dove into a nearby shop, although what it had been before a crumbling pile of rubble, he wasn’t sure. All that was left was a shop face with burning signs, but that didn’t quite matter at the moment; Kingsley knew victims would seek refuge anywhere they could, but the Death Eaters were making second and third rounds through Puddleton, making sure to double their destruction if they saw moving bodies or possible evidence. No one was safe yet.

Brown eyes fell on a strikingly familiar form, blood smeared across his forehead and glasses half broken on his nose. Kingsley’s heart shattered in his chest, his entire body going cold as he realized he had just stumbled upon the body of James Potter. The night air rushed quickly back into his lungs, however, when he saw James move, Kingsley rushing the rest of the way forward and crouching beside him, hoping to Merlin no one had seen them yet. It wasn’t like James to not be in the center of the action, and for a moment, Kingsley became worried something was detrimentally wrong with him. Had he got caught in a crossfire?

“You’re going to want to come with me, kid,” he murmured quickly, not giving James much of a choice before Kingsley was scooping him up around the shoulders, hoisting him onto his feet to catalogue any further damage. “Are you okay? What’re you still bloody doing here? We need to get out of here, now!” 

[kings-hacklebolt-blog]

& sofia zabini‌.

@kings-hacklebolt

It was becoming an all too familiar situation. 

One dead husband later, and Sofia was expecting a visit from the aurors office. After the death of Christopher, Kingsley had shown up far too quickly for it to be a randomly assigned case. More likely that any cases that involved the name Zabini automatically ended up on his desk….and so a new plan had hatched within her mind. Her marriage to Nathaniel had been swift - a smaller wedding than the other three, and he had been involved in a tragic accident far sooner than the others. She had put up with Christopher’s shit for far too long, and as soon as she’d realised it was likely Nathaniel might go the same way when he got bored of his new wife, a small confundus charm to a passing driver was all she’d needed.

A relatively boring death, all things considered. 

The car hadn’t hit him hard enough to kill him out right, but Sofia had watched as he bled out and then obliviated the driver and a passing cyclist who had stopped to help before making a call to St Mungoes. An anonymous tip. 

Unfortunately, it appeared the circumstances were still suspicious enough to warrant a visit. The newspapers had covered his affair in detail after Skeeter figured out why he would’ve been in that area of muggle London, and mixing that with two ‘witnesses’ that no longer witnessed anything at all, Nathaniel’s death had been labelled ‘suspicious’.

She’d taken her pick of black dresses from the wardrobe, choosing one with a plunging neckline and a lot of lace. Face painted perfectly, Sofia had settled in with a glass of wine and a cigarette when a firm knock sounded on the front door. A house elf appeared in the sitting room to announce ‘Kingsley Shacklebolt, Madame.’ “Bring him here.”

A moment later she heard a pair of footsteps heading towards the living room and Sofia stood, a second glass of wine in hand. “Good evening Kings. Wine? Auror work must be hard, never getting an evening off to relax…the wicked never rest, so it seems.”

Kingsley would never be able to describe the feeling that swelled in his chest when he had arrived to his cubicle this morning and saw the name ‘Zabini’ stamped across a case file that only increased in weight every couple of years. He hadn’t missed the look Moody shot him when he arrived, ignoring him as Kingsley dropped into his chair and opened the folder. Autopsy reports, witness statements, newspaper clippings, the general consensus of thoughts from whichever officers were first to arrive on scene; Kingsley sifted through it carefully, meticulously, dark eyes catching on any statements that seemed.... out of the ordinary. There never was many, but he has to be aware - has to look for disparities, regardless of his personal relationship with the victim’s widow. 

A million life times ago, Sofia had been a familiar part of his life. Structured play dates that fostered a genuine friendship, that turned into a much more heavy affair as they grew older. Not against their parents’ wishes, either - no one had doubted one day that he and Sofia would be betrothed, a happy ending in a world that allowed for anything but, especially in the wake of tragedy that seemed to follow the girl’s very shadow. He remembered, like it was yesterday, the youthful optimism he held in his heart, that their love could deliver her from darkness, that he could soothe the universe’s sharp edges that were determined to rip her apart as life continued to wittle down her heart.

It never happened for them, though. His career path of choice had been considered ‘impoverished,’ nothing near what the Zabini heir deserved, and although it tortured him to see the love his life be sent away, Kingsley had figured then that it would be for the best. 

Staring down at the photograph of her fourth dead husband, Kingsley realized, not for the first time, how wrong he had been. It won’t be his first time seeing her since they were kids; he had flagged her surname over a decade ago, and since, three other case files had passed across his desk, each ensnaringly more wicked than the last cause of death. He didn’t include the death of her parents, another cold case that sat in the bottom of his desk drawer, to haunt him in his darkest hours that he couldn’t bring Sofia even the smallest inkling of justice when the trail had run cold on suspected leads for their killer. 

It’s with a heavy heart, and lots of rain, that he found himself traipsing up a familiar doorstep, crossing a well-known threshold into a house he was beginning to despise. When Sofia moved from her seat to greet him, Kingsley inhaled a very audible breath through his nose, nostrils flaring as his jaw clenched, trying to find some sembalance of self-control. It was nearly impossible; she always knew how to make an entrance, black lace and silk clinging to her form, a picture of beauty even in the wake of despair. He accepted the glass from her, but made no move to drink it, taking a moment to compose himself before attempting to speak. 

“Sofia,” Kingsley implored a curt greeting, hopefully for the best. He never knew how either of them would react when they were in a room alone together, his memory and the silver ring still glinting on her finger serving as enough of a reminder of their past. Clearing his throat, still not touching his wine, he spoke, face clear of emotions even though his volume had softened. 

“I would say that I’m sorry for your loss, but I know Nathanial wasn’t a good man to you. Still, no one deserves to go through what you’re going through.” Again. For the fourth time. He pointedly ignored the voice in the back of his head, spewing suspicions and sounding oddly like Alastor. 

[kings-hacklebolt-blog]

WHERE: Puddlemere Celebration WHEN: after the attack begins.... WHO: o p e n

It had been just another night at the Office, evening shift passing in slow tides of the hour, when the Aurors first heard word of an attack. Kingsley was on his feet in moments, dashing down the line to rally his troops - the Magical Law Enforcement Patrol - before making his abrupt exit.

With a soft ‘pop!’, he Apparated into Puddleton, and not a second too soon. Sharp screams echoed across the valley, flashes of spells flaring in the darkness like morbid fireworks, each burst of green Kingsley saw making his heart sink deeper into the abyss of his chest. There was no time to waste.

While others ran away, Kingsley sprinted towards the source of the pandemonium, protocol dictating that he address the Dark witches & wizards at large enacting such a cruelty, and put a stop to them as swiftly as possible. Thankfully, he wasn’t ruled by protocol, his morals a much tighter discipline to keep to nowadays as Kingsley threw himself into the midst of flying dust and debris. He can’t concern himself with the dead just yet, much to his despair. Throwing his body behind a makeshift bar to avoid a passing spark of red light, flames exploding where he had just been, Kingsley found himself finding refuge beside another breathing body. 

“Wotcher! You alright? Can I get you out of here?” It was only polite to ask, despite his effort to save their life.

[kings-hacklebolt-blog]

MEET KINGSLEY SHACKLEBOLT 

Blood Status: Pureblood Age: Thirty-Three Previous House: Gryffindor Employment: Auror Affiliation: Order of The Phoenix Patronus: Lynx Boggart: The green flash of The Killing Curse Face Claim: Isaiah Mustafa

AESTHETIC 

Old newspapers tied up with string, A filing cabinet full of case files, Shirt collar buttoned all the way up to the top, Brown leather boots, Ministry hallways, ‘Every human life is worth the same and worth saving’, Maps written over with red ink, Unmade beds, ‘The best revenge is to be unlike him who caused the injury’, Weekly trips to the bookstore, Smiling politely at strangers, Mugs half-filled with lukewarm coffee, Sunday mornings at the cemetery, The flash of an Auror’s badge

PERSONALITY TRAITS 

Positive: Diplomatic, Reliable, Compassionate, Tenacious Negative: Reticent, Skeptical, Meticulous, Obsessive

THEIR STORY SO FAR 

‘Every human life is worth the same and worth saving.’

The accepted motto of the Shacklebolt household, a powerful lineage of diplomats and politicians, who despite all odds, believe in the wholly good of people. When the prodigal son is born, he’s already got his entire future laid out for him, a name selected with royal intentions in mind; not a burden, just a birthright. He’s got a prestigious tutor who mandated his daylight hours, and at night, his parents encourage him into extracurriculars, the values of structure and routine a staple within their home.

He wants for naught; if he cried, he was placated. When he grew older, this came in the form of material objects, gifts and presents meant to appease their quickly growing boy, who seemed to outgrow trousers and interests faster than they could understand. Still, whatever Kingsley wished to do, he was granted. Oddly enough, Kingsley doesn’t question the lavish pampering at the hands of his parents, figuring it was a result of only child syndrome, and he soaked it up for the years leading up to his departure for Hogwarts.

It’s not until he left home was he hit with the culture shock of it all. His transit to school was filled with his own shock filled silence, awestruck with a realization. He had never been given the choice of what to bloody do with himself, before. Every waking hour of his life for eleven years had been detailed within a schedule he were to follow, that he never actually questioned. If he were to have friends, meetings were arranged by his parents for him to play with children they deemed ‘suitable.’ Not in the stuffy pureblood sense - his parents had an obligation to uphold near pristine public images, and that included who their son was allowed to run circles with.

It takes awhile to get his footing, but an immediate sorting into Gryffindor certainly eased the process, Kingsley surprised but content with the Sorting Hat’s choice, even if his mother would’ve preferred Ravenclaw ( always a mirror of his father, it seemed ). Once he does, however, Kingsley hit his stride. Years of etiquette training have already given him a spectacular upper hand on his peers, the control over which Kingsley dictated his magic nothing short of elegant. He had been taught from an early age that control over himself would one day be easy; it was turning this power into control over others that was to be frowned upon. He kept this personal lesson in his back pocket, and it humbled him, and reminded him of the man he needed to choose to be versus the one it was easy to be.

The years go by in a blink of an eye. Much to his surprise, Kingsley found himself excelling in subjects he never imagined having a passing interest in. Defense Against the Dark Arts became his passion, though he didn’t dare show it, maintaining perfect grades in all his classes because it was expected of him. He’s asked to be a prefect, then Head Boy, the honor of the title weighing heavily on his shoulders as he took its authority. Unexpectedly, he found himself growing closer with his Headmaster, who believed there was more to his path than what may be illuminated. It surprised no one when he passed his N.E.W.T.s with Outstandings across the board, taking a sixth merely to show off his proficiency in Ancient Runes.

It does, however, surprise everyone when Kingsley Shacklebolt accepted a job with the Auror department at the Ministry of Magic.

He’s not sure why he allowed the situation to deteriorate the way it did, in retrospect. He should have warned his parents, especially his father, about the options on the table that he was considering. He should have spoken up sooner, used some of the Shacklebolt courage that he was so proud of inheriting to make it known that international wizard relations, wielding the powerful hand of diplomacy, wasn’t where he was needed.

It was with people. Maybe he knew, when he was given the Head Boy position, that Dumbledore was allowing for him to illuminate his own path. As the wizarding world became shrouded by its own darkness, Kingsley was emerging as a fresh faced recruit, already having made his sacrifice in an effort to serve and protect the people around him.

Oh, how things change.

Soon, he learned, everything had to be broken - that’s how the light truly gets in. Unspeakable horrors unfolded before his very eyes. Suddenly, he doesn’t feel nauseous when he sees blood. He learns what it means for death to become so common, it feels like a memory. He watched men he saw as mentors become bodies on a table. Friends become cemetery plots. He made promises he couldn’t keep, whispered in despair as he placated another widow, another parent, another family left in the wake of the constant violence. Every night, he returned home, and he shattered, shattered, shattered. His kind of work couldn’t be left at his doorstep; it followed him to bed and haunted his dreams, like many he works with. His only peace is found in morning, a new day, forceful optimism the body’s natural defense against a losing fight.

It doesn’t happen overnight, but as the months wane to years, a hardness has settled within him. A constant attempt must be made, to remember the motto he’s chosen to live by. ‘Every human life is worth the same and worth saving.’ Kingsley still believes in it with all his heart, but it doesn’t feel like he’s saving anyone, as of late. He’s a man struggling for something to believe in, a love for humanity in crisis when the things he’s seen…. are barely human at all.

All canon information can be found by clicking here

Kingsley is CLOSED for applications! 

[kings-hacklebolt-blog]

A U R O R   O F F I C E: main division of the department magical law enforcement

DISCLAIMER: this is just a gathering of my thoughts & musings regarding the Auror Office, how it operates, & plots Kingsley is available for via his professional career. 

* if any other Auror characters would like to contribute to this or recommend any adjustments, please feel free to reach out! I will be adding content to this as I think of it! *

{ purpose } 

- To protect the wizarding world from the Dark Arts, and those who practise them. - To capture Dark wizards and witches; apprehend “Undesirables.”

{ location } LEVEL TWO, MINISTRY OF MAGIC HQ

“Auror Headquarters consists of a series of open cubicles, with each Auror being assigned a space to work. The cubicles are decorated with pictures of known Dark wizards, maps, clippings from the Daily Prophet, and other odds and ends. Kingsley Shacklebolt's cubicle is located at one end. The description of the Auror Headquarters was "a cluttered open area divided into cubicles, which was buzzing with talk and laughter."

{ job requirements }

An Auror is a highly trained specialist officer who investigate crimes involving the Dark Arts and apprehend Dark Wizards. According to Minerva McGonagall, the Auror Office takes in new recruits with a minimum of five N.E.W.T.s (with marks no lower than 'Exceeds Expectations'). She suggests that Potions, Defence Against the Dark Arts, Transfiguration, Charms, and Herbology are the most appropriate for someone who aspires to be admitted to the training programme. A potential recruit will also have to pass "...a series of character and aptitude tests."

Nymphadora Tonks mentions that two of the programme's courses of study are "Concealment and Disguise" and "Stealth and Tracking," and that the training is hard to pass with high marks (a requirement). Aurors are the magical equivalents of Muggle counter-terrorism operatives and, during the First Wizarding War, Aurors were authorised to use the Unforgivable Curses on suspected Death Eaters; specifically, they were given the licence to kill, coerce and torture them.

Many of the Dark criminals first duel with the Aurors sent to arrest them before surrendering, or even fight to the death. Aurors are also used to protect high-profile targets, including the Muggle Prime Minister.

{ sub divisions }

Administrative Registration Department: registration of the wizarding population, including newborn into the magical community; also includes Animagus Registration office

Department of Intoxicating Substances: “responsible for making regulations on the consumption of alcoholic beverages. This included no alcohol being sold to underage witches and wizards.... [sic] seems to be rather strict when it comes to underage alcohol sales, putting up notices that warn against it. It is unknown what the punishment is for serving alcohol to underage wizards.”

Ministry of Magic’s Witch Watchers (”Hit Witch / Wizard”): “comprise a team of highly trained wizards tasked with arresting dangerous criminals. The entry requirements include five O.W.L.s, one of which must be Defence Against the Dark Arts. Possibly the equivalent of a Muggle S.W.A.T. Team. Members have a personal bed reserved at St Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries.”

Investigation Department: the detective division of the Auror Office, specifically tasked with tracking down Undesirables and perpetuators of Dark Magic

Magical Law Enforcement Patrol: the general law enforcement division of the Auror Office, and function similarly to Muggle police.

Misuse of Muggle Artifacts Office: “regulates the use of magic on Muggle objects and confiscates those which have been illegally bewitched. One of the laws they enforce is the prohibition on magically altering a Muggle vehicle with the intent to fly it. It is headed by Arthur Weasley. It is implied that this office does not get sufficient funding, as there is only a few employees within the relatively small department. It also does not get lot of respect from fellow Ministry workers.”

{ headcanons }

Kingsley has been an Auror for fifteen years, lending him to a more senior rank among his colleagues. His cubicle is at the very end of the Auror Office, currently second in command under Alastor Moody. He currently maintains primary command over Magical Law Enforcement Patrol, and spends most of his time organizing high profile security details for domestic and foreign politicians and diplomats. He is also known to accept cold cases from the Investigation Department whenever necessary. He’s well-liked among his colleagues, and tries his best to maintain a pleasant atmosphere despite the nature of his work. 

During his time on the force, he’s become a witness to the darkness and cruelty of the shadow war being waged around him. At first, it made him hopeless, realizing he couldn’t do anything for the people he swore to protect. Until Dumbledore and Moody approached him with the opportunity to do more, to be more, and to protect people in ways he never realized.

The Order of the Phoenix does have an influence over how Kingsley does his job. He does everything in his power to enact a boundary between his professional work and his personal affiliations, but in the chess game of war, it’s difficult to keep once stark lines from blurring.

{ plots }

Welcome Party: your character is being shopped for job in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, any division. Can be serving on a rotation through the Auror Office, or maybe Kingsley just stops by to say hello !

Partners in Not Crime: your character has been recruited to be an Auror, and luck of the draw, Kingsley’s their new partner & mentor. 

This Is Why We Can’t Have Nice Things: your character is a member of the Order and got themselves into a pickle during a mission. Good news is Kingsley is the first on scene! Bad news is he’ll probably lecture you. 

General Misdemeanors, Felonies & Crimes: your character is a bad guy! Kingsley hates those! Any level of crime accepted, including general tws, angst & wumps.

Just Doing The Job: your character has come to report a crime, against them or someone else, but the Auror Office is overrun with activity! Lucky for them, Kingsley has just arrived to be your character’s hero. 

[kings-hacklebolt-blog]

harry potter series: kingsley shacklebolt 

“the ministry has fallen. scrimgeour is dead. they are coming.”

[kings-hacklebolt-blog]

Harry Potter Meme - @hp-moods​ & @ibuzoo​

[6/9 Order of the Phoenix Members] - Kingsley Shacklebolt

[kings-hacklebolt-blog]

KINGSLEY SHACKLEBOLT

Harry Potter aesthetics A-Z

“The Ministry has fallen. Scrimgeour is dead. They are coming.”

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I’m teaching Gina to play [chess], and she, in turn, is teaching me to ‘trash talk’.

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My father used to say, “Don’t raise your voice. Improve your argument.

Archbishop Desmond Tutu (via locsofpoetry)

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My kink? Knowing all the information