#Black Magic Services in scotland

[hollowed-theory-hall]

do you think it’s strange that the uk monarchy is, as far as i remember, never mentioned in the books? it seems so weird to me since, for better or worse, it’s such an integral part of the concept of “britishness” - even if wizarding society seems pretty removed from muggle society, the monarchy has such a long history that it seems weird for the two societies to not intermingle in it. has wizarding society cut ties with it after the issue of the statute of secrecy? how many of the crown jewels are actually magical items? how *noble* is the house of black, really? were there ever kings or queens who were wizards?

there’s so many questions i have about this! such a world building plot hole!

Ok, so there are a lot of questions here and I'll try to answer them to the best of my ability. I will note there are a bunch of my own headcanons in this post. They are based on what we know about Wizarding History and what I know about irl UK history but they are still headcanons.

So, we know the Ministry of Magic was founded in 1707 after the Statue of Secrecy was enacted in 1692. The ministry was an immediate response to said statute since wizards needed a more uniform government to enforce their secrecy and cover up any slip ups. This means that before the Statue of Secrecy, the muggle government or monarchy earlier was the governing force for wizards as well as muggles. Yes, the Wizengamot already existed, but it seemed to behave differently from how it does in the modern ministry.

I wrote about the Wizengamot and how I believe it works along with some of its history here although I learned more UK history since, so this post is more accurate on the history front.

Now, I hope you won't mind me going into some medieval history of the UK in general, since the monarchy has changed over time, and in the early Middle Ages, the UK was comprised of multiple smaller kingdoms. Wales had 3 big kingdoms, but also a bunch of smaller ones (there were also warlords that took over abandoned Roman fortresses after the Romans left Britain in eastern Wales), England had the Anglo-Saxons settling in after the Romans left and creating multiple Anglo-Saxon kingdoms (like Wessex and Marcia). Scotland and Ireland were similarly divided. There were the biking invasions and a whole Viking kingdom in north-east England that's referred to as "The Dane Law". England did unite under King Aethelstan eventually, but with all these fractured kingdoms and warlords, I'm sure there were some wizards among them. Then, of course, there is the Norman monarchy and nobility established after the Norman conquests, which officially settled in 1066.

My point with all of this history is that like muggle society, wizarding society changed and evolved and that the monarchy in Britain wasn't the same throughout the entirety of history. So, the status of wizards and wizard nobility changed based on the specific time period we are discussing. But let's look at post-normans pre-Statue of Secrecy wizarding high society, and for that the Pottermore article about the Malfoy family is incredibly helpful:

Like many other progenitors of noble English families, the wizard Armand Malfoy arrived in Britain with William the Conqueror as part of the invading Norman army. Having rendered unknown, shady (and almost certainly magical) services to King William I, Malfoy was given a prime piece of land in Wiltshire, seized from local landowners, upon which his descendants have lived for ten consecutive centuries.

(from Pottermore)

Most nobility in England after the conquest were normans close to William who arrived with him and were given muggle noble titles, lands, and status. irl, the first Peverell in England, William Peverell was similarly given lands as he was said to be a son of William the Conqueror. That being said, some Anglo-Saxon nobility (mostly from the south of England since the northern Anglo-Saxon nobility were mostly killed after their rebellion) were kept in place by William as long as they swore fealty to him. Families like the Blacks and Longbottoms (both having Anglo-Saxon surnames) are likely among this leftover Anglo-Saxon nobility.

Now besides the muggle nobility, which is very much aware of wizards and even includes wizards (like the Malfoys, Peverells, Lestranges, and the Gaunts) we have the Wizangamot. The Wizaengamot, which I wrote more about in the post I linked, have likely been around and acted as a council of wizard nobility alongside the muggle one before the Norman invasion since around when Hogwarts was founded (around 990). The Blacks and Longbottoms (and the Notts who also have a Germanic name dating to the Dane Law I referenced earlier and King Knut who ruled that portion of England) were probably in this council.

We also know the Malfoys aren't in the Wizengamot in the books, meaning the circles of nobility for each council were different. This is easily explained by the Wizengamot being there earlier and being Anglo-Saxon rather than Norman. The name Wizangamot is, in itself, from old English which supports this speculation.

Since the Wizengamot continued existing after the conquest, I assume William the Conquerer left it as it is, wanting to ally himself with the local wizarding community rather than going to war with them. Wizards are, after all, really fucking useful, and irl he did keep some of the Anglo-Saxon nobility, so that's in character.

I think, after the conquest the Wizengamot either grew in the number of families there or that the families that opposed William were replaced with Norman wizard nobles that William trusted to represent him in the magical community.

The same Pottermore article about the Malfoy family also notes:

Historically, the Malfoys drew a sharp distinction between poor Muggles and those with wealth and authority. Until the imposition of the Statute of Secrecy in 1692, the Malfoy family was active within high-born Muggle circles, and it is said that their fervent opposition to the imposition of the Statute was due, in part, to the fact that they would have to withdraw from this enjoyable sphere of social life. Though hotly denied by subsequent generations, there is ample evidence to suggest that the first Lucius Malfoy was an unsuccessful aspirant to the hand of Elizabeth I, and some wizarding historians allege that the Queen’s subsequent opposition to marriage was due to a jinx placed upon her by the thwarted Malfoy.

(from Pottermore)

This means the monarchy throughout history was well aware of wizards and that the magical nobility was also muggle nobility and allowed in the same circles, but not vice versa. It seems to me, that the Malfoys had a muggle noble title from William I, and once the Statue of Secrecy was enacted they lost their title since they weren't also Wizarding nobility (Wizengamot members). (The Malfoys did keep all their money though).

Considering what Pottermore implies, it seems to me, there is a high chance of some crown jewels being magical. I mean, Lucius Malfoy I proposed to Queen Elizabeth I, and in my headcanon the aforementioned Willaim Peverell is the father of the three brothers of the Deathly Hallows, and in this headcanon, William Peverell is a half-blood wizard. Point is, yeah, the monarchy was well aware of wizards and seemed to have been in an alliance with the Wizengamot and the magical community. Although, I'm sure attitudes changed over time and differed from monarch to monarch with some being closer to the Wizarding community than others, but in general the Wizengamot and the wizarding community as a whole were under the governance of the muggle monarch.

It's actually possible there were a few wizards who ruled the UK (or any of the earlier kingdoms that eventually united) across the Isles's history. I think it's even likely if we're being honest. Egbert the Egregious, for example, might've been a king of Kent or Wessex (two of the older kingdoms before England united) as kings of the same name are recorded in both.

Once the Statue of Secrecy was enacted the wizards drew away from muggle society and wizards who held muggle noble titles likely lost them. But we know some muggles are aware of wizards' existence. We see at the beginning of HBP that the muggle Prime Minister is informed of wizards' existence and obliviated when they leave office. If I had to bet, the monarch (and perhaps more in the royal family) are similarly aware that wizards exist but aren't really involved. Like, the monarch probably knows but is only informed when something in the Wizarding World spills out to the muggle one. So, the monarch knows wizards exist, but not much more than that.

As for how noble the House of Black really was, I mentioned I believe they were nobles of the Wizengamot and Anglo-Saxon nobility before the Normans. I think all magical families in the Wizengamot that were around before the Normans would be considered: "Noble and Ancient". We see the Blacks being referred to as "The Noble and Most Ancient House of Black" compared to the Gaunts who are just: "House of Gaunt" which is how wizard nobility from after the conquest would be titled in my headcanon.

The name Gaunt is one that arrived in Britain with the Normans as stated in a survey of England's land done by William after the conquest (this survey is known as the "Doomsday Book" and it essentially details which land belongs to which lord. The book names both Norman lords and Anglo-Saxon ones and is a super useful historical document. It occasionally even mentions which Anglo-Saxon lord was deposed for the sake of a new Norman one). Gilbert de Ghent (standardized spelling wasn't a thing yet), named in said survey was the nephew of King William I's wife and as such received lands. A lot of them, actually:

"Few among the Conqueror's companions of arms were so splendidly rewarded as Gilbert de Ghent, who held one hundred and seventy-two English manors."

(Manors refers to actual manors, but also the land surrounding them. Basically, it refers to a family seat)

As the Gaunts were so favored, it's likely William I placed his nephew's family (who I headcanon at least some are wizards) in the Wizengamot. I believe the Slytherins married into the Gaunt family around the same time to add legitimacy to the Gaunts' status in the wizarding community.

The Malfoy Family that doesn't have a magical noble title and lost their muggle one is just referred to as: "Malfoy Family" and never "House of Malfoy" which again, to me, suggests this is how these titles work.

The aforementioned Doomsday Book does mention a William Black with 5 manors in Devon. William Peverell, as a son of King William I is mentioned to have 153 manors given to him and another 75 to Ranulf Peverell (not sure of the familial relationship). Reginald Cnut (older spelling of Nott) is also mentioned in the Doomsday Book to have 26 manors. Malfoy is a name JKR made up and isn't mentioned in the Doomsday Book or any other survey of UK landowners done in the Middle Ages. I did read a legend about one Guy Le Strange who participated in a tournament at Castle Peverell around 1083 and won the hand of Mellette, the niece of William Peverell. Although the Lestranges are not mentioned in the Doomsday Book and this legend likely dates from the 13th century a good 200 years after the supposed events it details.

So, to summarise, wizards don't seem to have or ever had a royal family of their own but there were most likely wizard royals throughout the various kingdoms that existed in history. Some wizards do have a noble status that I headcanon/speculate is connected to their status as members of the Wizengamot. These Wizengamot titles were also muggle titles and there were wizards with muggle titles that weren't part of the Wizengamot. These wizards probably interacted very closely with the muggle nobility and even shared family trees and were all probably considered half-blooded if you asked a Death Eater. After the Statue of Secrecy, the muggle titles became irrelevant and stopped being used leaving only the Wizarding titles behind (I headcanon "Ancient and Noble houses" refers to Anglo-Saxon nobility, and just "noble houses" refers to Norman nobility among wizards). The UK monarch likely is informed about the wizarding world to a similar degree as we see the muggle prime minister is informed. Blood purity probably only became relevant after the Statue of Secrecy as before that we see intermarriages with muggle royalty and nobility being practiced (I talked a bit about the timing of the witch hunts and the Statue of Secrecy here).

Sorry for the nerdy history talk, but, I answered this after a few weeks of medieval UK research and I have so many thoughts about medieval wizarding society in Britain.

[ottpopfic]

Original Character Cast

Trio:

Katie di Solace (Kathleen Maria Fiodoir): 

THE CHILD. Adopted by Will and Nico di Solace at 8, after Nico finds her covered in mud in a swamp nature preserve in southern Maryland. Has Traumatic Selective Mutism until age 12/13, her PTSD makes her feel like she needs to hide. Daughter of Hephestus, inherited more of the magic side of making and specializes in miniatures, jewelry, and enchantments. Fluent in Italian, Spanish, and ASL from her speech therapy plan, good at languages. Was ‘a gift’, originally made of wood and copper but it wore off. Brave almost to a fault but not when it comes to girls, a strong sense of justice and the sword to back it. Year rounder from the age of 12 on.

On The Gods: Her perception of the gods is very skewed, as both of her adopted grandfathers are very active in her life. Had more protection than other demigods because of who she is, uses it to her full advantage. Empathetic to monsters and spirits, sees them as people first

In the Trio: Holds all the magic smarts, and knows all the people. Out of her depth when it comes to mortals and how that world works but is amazing at demigod stuff.

Description: Ends up 5’7. Scots Irish Greek, but her Greek shows more. Bio family immigrated similarly to Frank's, but went through Scotland and then Ireland instead of China. Deep olive skin tone, big dark round eyes, dark brown hair with 3a curl pattern. Slim compact build. Her knees are switched so she needs to wear knee braces and sometimes use a cane.

Likes: making shit, Sify novels (especially the trashy paperbacks but shhhh), giving stitches, sword fighting, dope rocks, experimental enchanting, bones, eating bugs, explosives 

Can not drive, should not drive, passenger princess with a demon horse

Love language: Gifts

Fatal Flaw: Caretaker

Colton Elaine Brown: 

Katie's best friend and QP (even though they never sit down and have that convo). Son of Hermes, the fastest runner at camp. Same age as her, meet at 9. Trans and bi, mostly Cuban with a bit of black. Bio dad is an extremely autistic man who drives school buses in Florida, he's not always verbal. Colton's stepdad is a middle-school English teacher. Is from downtown Orlando Florida and only spends the summer at CHB. 

On The Gods: Pretty spooked by the gods and magic in general, will avoid it if he can

In the Trio: Holds all the street smarts. Katie’s Annabeth, the trio's mortal compass and bullshit meter. Great call of character, if he calls ‘retreat’ both Katie and Lettie will listen and follow. The driver always, the one to keep both of the space cases from wandering off. 

Description: Never gets taller than 5’5. Short black hair with a 4a curl. Built like a runner, slim shoulders. Looks very Cuban but his black side comes out in his skin tone and his nose. Was on hormone blockers as he came out at 5 so never had to have top surgery

Likes: Transformers, Ninja Turtles, comics, track, traveling and exploring, climbing shit he shouldn't 

Can drive, should drive, very good at driving. Gets nervous when other people drive

Love language: Acts of Service 

Fatal Flaw: Secret Keeper

Lettie Thatcher: 

Katie's partner, lesbian, half a year older than her met at 13. Daughter of Demeter, strong Sappo parallels. Super strong physically even for a demigod, encyclopedic knowledge of medical plants good at memorization, hyperlexic. Very much a person in her own head, is perceived as quiet but is very observant and perceptive of everything around her, especially people. Bio mom was poet laureate for GA for a time and wrote a poem about grain and it wooed Demeter. Is from Savannah GA, lives there fall and winter lives at CHB spring and summer.

On The Gods: A pretty neutral take on larger gods, can befriend any nature spirit, especially dryads

In the Trio: Holds all the people smarts. Steller constitution, literally a ‘punch druid’ she's their tank.

Description: Tall and broad. Wide shoulders, wide hips, massive arms, ends up 5’10. Blond hair with a 3c curl pattern. Tons of freckles, gets them instead of burning. Thin nose, bright blue eyes, pink undertones 

Likes: reading poetry and short works, bare-knuckle boxing, herb gardening, people watching, good BBQ (none of that camp grill crap with the store bought bbq sauce), trees and talking to them, eating dirt

Can drive, should not drive, gets distracted by plants growing on the side of the road

Love language: Time

Fatal Flaw: Trust

Trio Powers Breakdown

Katie's Cabin Siblings

Ricky:

Specializes in armor, one year older than Katie. Goes by Dick sometimes (says it's fine because one of Robins is named Dick, only his cabin siblings can tease him with it)

Ruby:

NOT A REDHEAD. One year younger than Katie. Gets Project Possession worst out of all her siblings. She and Katie are the only year-rounder girls in their cabin so they are close. Best at the 'soft goods' part of their craft, leather worker

Simon Pidra:

El Salvadorian. Two years older than Katie. Head Counselor of Hephaestus Cabin by the end. Best carpenter in their cabin. He and Katie butt heads a lot as they are the two sides of the Hephaestus spectrum both in stature and skill set. But when they team up they're unstoppable. They have a very ‘only I can fight them’ relationship, they keep each other grounded. His bi awakening was sword fighting class with Nico, Katie hates this. Simon and Alex end up together

Atticus (Gus) Steel:

Five years younger than Katie. Has a sister younger than him in Apollo (Jackie) and they're pretty sure their younger sibling is also a demigod but is too young for camp. Explodes a torpedo that injures Katie when he’s ten. Can both fuse and defuse any bomb

Cousins:

Michael (Mikey) Jackson:

Eldest Jackson, eight years younger than Katie, is absolutely a little goblin a menace to society. He's like one of those puppies who are too smart for their own good and figures out how to unlatch the baby gate and open the fridge and just cause havoc. Impossible to keep out of water, if there is so much as a dixie cup of liquid he will find it and then somehow become damp. He's fist-fighting bullies, he's climbing out of third-story windows, he's running from the cops, he's giving his parents new forms of anxiety they didn't know existed. Once he goes to camp and can let some of it out he gets better, but elementary school was an affair

Lina Sally Jackson:

Middle Jackson child, named after the architect Lina Bo Bardi, is ten years younger than Katie. The most calculating eyes you have ever seen on a child, a prank streak to rival god. If the Jackson kids get in trouble it's her fault but no one will ever know because of how well her (and only her) tracks are covered. Her family knows she did it, whatever it is, but no one can ever prove it. If her brother is the too-smart puppy she is that cat that sits on the counter and knocks the treats down so the dog will open them

Mako Jackson:

Twelve years younger than Katie, fraternal twin. Went through a nonbinary streak during grade school that they halfway changed their mind on, solidly a they/them for about ten years but later goes by all pronouns and just doesn't care about gender but leans more fem (agender). Puts the ‘H’ in ADHD, the kid practically vibrates. Best at sword fighting of the four, a total jock. Goes straight for the kneecaps first, both verbally and physically, and asks questions later. Very indigent, will always speak their mind

Charles (Charlie) Jackson:

Twelve years younger than Katie, fraternal twin. Katie teaches him fiber crafts and he takes off, that kid is always making something his backpack is just full of yarn. The calmest of the four, just like a chill dude (its the yarn). Also kinda quiet but only in comparison to the others, he is dubbed the youngest by his siblings but the rents refuse to say which twin is older (it's actually Charlie). The most Athena of the siblings, the only sibling to solidly show relation to one godly grandparent over the other

(Bao) Bowen (Bo) Zhang:

 Nine years younger than Katie

(Jin) Chyann (Chy) Zhang:

Eleven years younger than Katie

Ashland (Ash) Underwood:

Satyr, eight years younger than Katie. Permanently the baby because of how satyra age, all of the cousins are very protective of them.

Other Demigods:

Jacqueline (Jackie) Ray Steel:

Gus’s younger sister (by two years). Has healing powers and is fascinated by blood. Becomes an apprentice under Will and Alex. Has some kind of blood-bending phlebotomist power

Draco Steel:

Jackie and Gus’s younger brother (4 years younger than Jackie, 6 years younger than Gus) unclaimed

Alex Vlahos:

Will’s head apprentice since they were 13, child of Apollo, they will take over when Will retires. Nonbinary, two years older than Katie. Japanese and Greek, kinda built like a swimmer. Becomes close to the di Solaces because of their position in the infirmary, and acts like an older sibling to Katie when she's younger. Katie has a lot of respect for them. Simon and Alex end up together

August: 

Friend of Katie’s, daughter of Hecate, one year older than her. Both like sci-fi novels. Dies in a quest Katie helped prep for (when Katie is 14)

Justin:

Son of Nike, Katie kicks his ass his first week because he tried to play macho and broke Colton’s nose. They make up when he starts dating August, the other person to die on that quest  (when Katie is 14)

Richard Gibson:

Son of Athena, in his mid-50s and the year-round school teacher for the kids at camp. Used to teach high school Social Studies in Colorado, the second person the Stolls recruited for The Program after Will. Kids call him 'Mr.G' or 'Mr.Gibs', wears hair in a ponytail

Marigold:

Daughter of Hecate, two older older than Katie. Specializes in magical tattoos. The one who always puts on anime during movie night

Oliver:

Son of Iris, plays the base, the same age as Katie. Pretty chill dude with a slight 'little shit middle child' streak, has an older mortal sister and younger mortal brother back home. One of the kids who is a Year Rounder because he wants to be. The third person in the quest where Justing and August die, loses his left leg in the escape

Liliana:

Daughter of Apollo, two years younger than Katie. Master acoustic guitar player, who writes lots of folk and country music. Has a crush on Ruby

Rose and Myrtle (the Aphrodite twins)

Twin daughters of Aphrodite, the youngest kids at camp until the Steels three years younger than Katie. Very quiet girls for a long time, twin telepathy to the max. they end up with a very successful hair and makeup makeover YouTube channel (Property Brothers style) that gets turned into a Netflix show

Carlos:

Colton’s future husband, is bi and Mexican. Roman, a descendent of Epona, meets Colton during his second time in the Olympics (Colton in track and Carlos in equestrian, their rooms were next to each other). Emotionally intelligent, has four horses (each is named after a cookie. Oreo, Snickerdoodle, Chocolate Chip (Chippie), Oatmeal Raisin (Raisin)). Thinks Hazel is the coolest, a little bit of hero worship there because of Airen, works with and is heir to the Roman Calvary (their family runs the stables)

Rosa:

Carlos’s older sister, aromantic. Also works with and is heir to the Roman Calvary

Katie's Bio Family:

Christopher (Chris) Fiodoir:

Katie’s bio dad, the second oldest of five. Has a goatee and a mullet ponytail, Katie looks a lot like him, especially in the eyes. Props Master for a theater in Washington DC. Died brutally in front of Katie by being ripped to shreds and eaten by Cyclops

Maria Fiodoir:

Katie's bio grandmother and priestess of Athena. Master fiber artist and last living bio family Katie remembers. Katie is her spitting image. Taught Katie to sew and other fiber crafts when she would stay over during hard tech weeks. Would have groomed Katie as next to hold the vigil, was already starting to when her son died

Kathy (Katherine) Fiodoir:

Katie's great aunt, her grandmother's sister, they were raised as twins. A gift to the family made from fiber craft by Athena. Was pressured into becoming the single maiden priestess to Athena, to single-handedly keep the family vigil. Ended up getting in so deep she wove herself into the vigil tapestry on the family loom

Olive Fiodoir (Tanner):

Katie’s aunt. Her dad's youngest sibling and only sister. No one’s sure how human she is, but her gender was prompted by Athena so that there would still be a maiden to take up the vigil. Is somewhat sensitive to magic because of this. Olive rejected her birthright, married, and had a son

Original Mortals:

Oscar Brown:

Colton’s human dad. A nonverbal autistic man, special interest in buses. Drives a school bus, is the best at driving school buses, how he caught the eye of Hermies. The man is barely verbal but he has the most rizz of anyone in the series 

Elane Brown:

Colton’s Abuelita, all around badass woman. Immigrated to America from Cuba with nothing but her nonverbal gay autistic son. Opened a hair salon in Orlando Florida where she employs women who are immigrating with their children alone, huge autism advocates, and all-around badass. Colton kept her name as his middle name, he thinks she’s the best

Grace Thatcher: 

Lettie’s human mom. Poet, teaches poetry and creative writing at SCAD. Poet Laurent for GA at one time, wrote a poem about wheat that wooed Dameator. Very crunchy and hippy, but a good mom. Homeschooled Lettie, her homeschooling made it so Lettie can spend half of the year at camp (spring and summer). 

Olivia:

Katie’s frienemie from when she was in mortal school. Cheated in the science fair so badly that Katie’s powers over scale manifested for the first time, combined with Leo, and exploded her paper mache volcano in her face. Lost her eyebrows in the explosion, they never grew back right.

Martha (Mars):

Colton’s high school girlfriend, is also in track. They break up before college right after Colton qualifies for the Olympics

Others:

George the Real Human Skull:

A real human skull that is Katie's main comfort item. Was a garment worker during the Gilded Age of NYC, and now gets slept with by an adolescent demigod 

Skeletor:

Katie's borse (bone horse). Gift from Hades for her thirteenth birthday, can breathe fire out his nose. Carnivore, hates everyone but Katie, Reyna, and Hazel and shows this by trying to eat them. Has to live in Hades's stables because of how much he loves to murder but Katie has a whistle to summon him

Janet:

Katie and Nico’s ghost secretary, takes calls and does bureaucratic and paper-pushing things for them on the Otherworld side. From the 1970s, died from a drug overdose and is working off some time for a better afterlife. Huge gossip

The Bonsai’s:

A dryad biker gang that have bonsaied their trees into their sidecars. Because they are bonsais many of there limbs are disfigured so they all have at least one prosthetic. Lettie is friends with them

Cirro:

A cloud nymph that lives at the waystation. A soft-spoken woman who loves to cook, decided to join a few days before they found Katie. Her and Calypso are close

[myhauntedsalem]

6 Dark Places Aleister Crowley Performed His Particular Brand of Magick

Born in the late 1870s, England, Aleister Crowley was one of the great characters of the 20th century—a poet, a magician, a journalist, an alchemist, a philosopher, a spy, a self-affirmed drug fiend, and a sex addict. He was also known as “The Great Beast” and the “wickedest man in the world.” He played a major role in the creation of alternate religions like Wicca, the A∴A∴, and the Ordo Templi Orientis, and he founded the Order of Thelema, a semi-Satanic cult whose famous edict was “do what thou wilt.”

Crowley is to the occult as Tolkien is to fantasy—he set the stage that everyone else plays in. Basically, if you’re dabbling in things dark and dastardly, Aleister was probably there first.

In all of his doings, Crowley traveled a lot. He pursued exploits in Egypt, India, the Far East, Australia, all over Europe and North America, dotting the map with sex magick and weird stunts. Here are a six places in the Atlas where the infamous occultist left his mark.

1. 36 Blythe Road

LONDON, ENGLAND

Though he was interested in the occult from childhood, Crowley’s first foray into organized magic (or “magick,” as he preferred to spell it) was with the Hermetic Order of the Golden Dawn. Well liked by its co-founder, Samuel Liddell MacGregor Mathers, Crowley advanced in the ranks very quickly. However, not everyone was a fan. The London chapter, which had already found faults in Mathers’ leadership, particularly disavowed him for the eccentric, bisexual Crowley. This caused a decisive rift between two factions of the Order, but Mathers wasn’t ready to concede his leadership.

In 1900, while the poet and London chapter leader W. B. Yeats was heading a meeting, he was attacked by an “astral siege” from none other than Aleister Crowley. Crowley, wearing a black Osiris mask and a kilt, and his mistress burst into the temple, casting spells and brandishing daggers. They intended to take the temple for Mathers’, but were unsuccessful. The police came, the scuffle went to court, and the London chapter of the Golden Dawn won (as they paid the rent on the space). Now the nondescript George’s Cafe resides in the former site of the secret society’s temple, with no indication of its former life.

2. Boleskine House

INVERNESS, SCOTLAND

Boleskine House was steeped in darkness long before Crowley moved in. The manor is allegedly built atop the ruins of a 10th century church that burnt to the ground during a service, killing all the congregants inside. Crowley bought Boleskine House to seclude himself and perform magic from The Book of Sacred Magic of Abramelin the Mage. It was during this period that Crowley became famous for his occultism and black magic, both around the Scotland and later, the world. Sometime during this period Mathers called Crowley to Paris. He left without dispelling the “12 Kings and Dukes of Hell” he had summoned, and many locals blame the house’s unlucky history on evil spirits left behind.

First, Crowley’s housekeeper’s two children died mysteriously and abruptly. Crowley also bragged that one employee of the estate who had long abstained from alcohol got drunk and attempted to murder his entire family. After the house had changed hands, it still wasn’t free of dark energy. In 1965, the army major who owned the house committed suicide by shotgun. The next owner, Led Zeppelin’s Jimmy Page, spent very little time at the estate, instead bequeathing it to a friend who didn’t mind the unexplained creaks, groans, and various ghostly apparitions, but was bothered by the Crowley and Page fans who frequently attempted to break into the house and defile the grounds. Later owners dismissed any notions of hauntings or witchcraft at the house, but in 2015, the residents returned from a shopping trip to find the house completely in flames.

3. Crowley’s Magickal Retirement

HEBRON, NEW HAMPSHIRE

In 1916, Crowley spent four months at the home of renowned medium Evangeline Adams in what he called a “magickal retirement.” This didn’t mean taking a break from cocaine, heroin, sex magick, and prolonged rituals. Quite the opposite in fact. In Hebron, Crowley doubled down and did a great deal of writing, poetry and magical instruction alike. He was even a ghost writer on several of Adams’ books of astrology.

4. Esopus Island

HYDE PARK, NEW YORK

In another magickal retreat, Crowley spent 40 days and 40 nights (a la Jesus Christ) on a tiny island in the Hudson River. His mission was translating the Tao Te Ching, a 4th century Chinese philosophical text. He hadn’t brought much food but had packed plenty of red paint, and also put himself to work painting Thelemic graffiti on the island’s rocks. Curious families watching the bald, robed man on the island from the banks of the Hudson began bringing him rations. He was also visited by fans and artists, who brought him food, drugs, and company.

Much later Crowley reported experiencing visions of his past lives during his stay on Esopus Island, all of which were somehow very influential figures. His former selves included legendary Taoist Ge Xuan, Renaissance Pope Alexander VI, alchemist Alessandro Cagliostro, and the magician Eliphas Levi. Today, the island is open to the public so long as they can reach it by boat. There are even camping amenities for those who wish to follow in the footsteps of the infamous occultist.

5. Boca do Inferno

CASCAIS, PORTUGAL

Any eccentric worth his salt has to fake his own death at least once. When visiting Portugal in 1930 and feeling annoyed by his current mistress, Crowley gave appearance he had committed suicide at the Boca de Inferno (“Mouth of Hell”) caves. His friend, poet Fernando Pessoa handed Crowley’s suicide note to newspapers, helpfully explaining the magical symbols and translating the mangled Portuguese to police and media alike. Three weeks later, Crowley reappeared at the opening of an exhibition of his works in a Berlin gallery, suggesting this whole affair was more publicity stunt than anything else. Today, there is a small white plaque mounted on the rock provides the text of Crowley’s note: “Não Posso Viver Sem Ti. A outra ‘Boca De Infierno’ apanhar-me-á não será tão quente como a tua,” which translates roughly to “Can’t live without you. The other mouth of hell that will catch me won’t be as hot as yours.” That might be touching if any of it were genuine.

6. The Abbey of Thelema

CEFALÙ, ITALY

Crowley’s magickal career came to its peak in a little Sicilian town. For a small amount of money, he, his two lovers, their small children, and miscellaneous followers moved into one story house facing the Mediterranean sea. They called it the Abbey of Thelema. The common room was dedicated to ritual practices and held a scarlet “magick” circle marked with the sign of the major Thelemic deities. Crowley’s own bedroom, labeled by himself as “la chambre des cauchemars” (or “the room of nightmares”) was entirely hand-painted by the occultist with explicitly erotic frescos, hermaphroditic goblins, and vividly colored monsters. This private room was used for specific night initiations involving psychoactive drugs which gave terrifying cinematic life to this Bosch-like vision of hellish debauchery.

Crowley considered his temple a school of magick, and gave it an appropriately collegiate motto: “Collegium ad Spiritum Sanctum”—”A College towards the Holy Spirit.” The Cefalù period was one of the most prolific and happy of his life, even as he suffered from drug addiction and had to write the scandalous Diary of a Drug Fiend to finance his community. The growing interest in dark magic and the occult provided him with an ample student body (pun intended). But in 1922, the experience in monasticism ended when Raoul Loveday, a young disciple, tragically died from typhoid fever contracted from drinking contaminated spring water, though Loveday’s wife maintained it was from drinking cat’s blood.

Crowley and his people were evicted by Mussolini’s regime in 1923. The dictator had no sympathy for pornographic art or mysticism. Once the Abbey closed, the villagers whitewashed the murals, which they somewhat correctly saw as demonic. This erased much of the history and work of Crowley in Cefalù. The Abbey of Thelema is still there, a hidden monument of mysterious, magickal decay.

[random-movie-ideas]

Supergirl of Earth-Two (Movie Outline)

This is the outline for a sequel to my previous Supergirl movie set within a cinematic universe, and this one would theoretically take place in Phase Three, some time following Superman: God Among Men, and is one of the main films building up to the Crisis on Infinite Earths event.

We begin with a similar opening to Superman: Son of Krypton, with a version of Kara Zor-El on Krypton, playing with her baby cousin Kal, just before Brainiac attacks and seals her home city in a bottle, her with it. There are little noticeable differences from the original though, such as Kara's personality being much more brazen and reckless.

We then fast-forward through a number of familiar events: Kara waking up on Brainiac's ship, making her escape, and crash-landing on Earth. This time, however, she finds herself rescued by her cousin Kal, but this time, he wears the black-and-white suit of Ultraman, and is accompanied by two other costumed figures called Owlman and Superwoman. Kara tries to warn him of Brainiac's attack, but Ultraman soothes her, telling her it will be taken care of.

We then skip to another universe, where our main Kara Zor-El is living happily on Earth, acting as the defender of New Kandor at its place in Scotland. We get to see her saving the day, and working alongside her best friend Linda Danvers, who has been training with magic. We have a brief scene where Linda tells her that [a magic user AKA Doctor Fate/Zatanna/whoever's around at this time in the cinematic universe] has offered to train her and that she'll be leaving for a while. They have a fond farewell and Linda leaves.

We see Kara going about her business, saving random civilians and such, when suddenly, a strange little man appears before her, introducing himself as Mr. Mxyzptlk, who requests her services. Kara, a little weirded out by him, tries to turn him down and fly away, but he ends up using magic to keep her trapped. We get a whole sequence of this, Kara cursing magic and wishing Linda were here to help her. After a short battle, Kara accidentally gets him to say his name backwards, he yelps and disappears, telling her he'll be back.

Freaked out, Kara goes to her father Zor-El, who has been researching books from the same [magical figure], as she doesn't want to disturb Linda. Zor-El finds an entry in the book on Mr. Mxyzptlk, describing him as an interdimensional entity of vast reality-bending power, who frequently enters their universe, and the only way to defeat him is to fulfill a certain condition, which will change every time.

Kara debates with her father whether to go and get Linda and her teacher for help, when Mxy reappears, saying he told her he'd be back, and repeating that he needs her help. Before Kara can say another word, he snaps his fingers and she suddenly finds herself outside in a city that looks like Metropolis, but everything looks different somehow.

Mxy appears before her and tells her that he's brought her to another dimension, parallel to her own, where certain events played out a little differently, resulting in a vastly different world. She demands he send her back, but he refuses until she finds and fixes his problem. For what that problem is, he says to seek out her cousin of this world and find out for herself before disappearing.

Kara flies around the city, noticing that the people seem to live in a state of constant fear, and many especially cower when they see her. She also sees a large foreboding tower at the center of the city where the Daily Planet used to be. She figures that's the best place to start. She flies up to it and is immediately met with resistance from turrets and troopers, and finally gets into a scuffle with what appears to be another Kryptonian.

After a brief fight, they break apart to see that they are exactly identical, except that the new Kara's hair is shorter and she wears the whiter, more revealing outfit of Power Girl. Power Girl demands to know who she is, if she's some insidious clone created by the resistance to infiltrate their base. It's at this moment that Ultraman steps in.

Kara recognizes him instantly as Clark, but this Clark doesn't recognize the name. He welcomes her to his home and apologizes for his cousin's rude behavior. He also introduces her to his comrades Owlman and Superwoman, who Kara recognizes as Bruce and Diana from back home. Owlman scans her and confirms that she is indeed an alternate universe version of Kara, with her insides all inverted.

Ultraman welcomes her into the tower and shows her around, Power Girl being a little miffed. He asks her how she got here, and reveals that he and his comrades have been working on a device for traversing the multiverse for years, and they were curious to know if she was a result of some accidental success. Here and there, Kara picks up little tidbits that make her think this Clark is not the good man she knows back home, and it eventually comes out that they are not a Justice League at all, but an evil dominion that combined their powers to conquer Earth and all of its inhabitants.

Kara refuses to help them any further and tries to escape. The Syndicate jump into action, all overpowering her. Kara notices that this version of herself and Ultraman even seem to be a little stronger, or at least more aggressive with their fighting styles. She is about to be defeated, when a mysterious figure blasts the other Kara with a powerful cannon, allowing Kara to get away and hide.

As she creeps around the city, the same figure calls her over to a hiding place. She hurries in to find that her rescuer is none other than Lex Luthor, or Alexander, as he corrects her. Alexander leads her down into a huge lead-lined complex full of resistance fighters, including his wife Lois Lane, and their son Alexander Jr.

Alexander and Lois tell Kara the story of Ultraman. Years ago, Alexander's parents, the Luthors, came upon a crashed spacecraft with a baby inside. Taking him in, the infant Kal and Alexander had been raised as brothers in the lap of luxury. As he reached puberty, however, Kal's powers began to manifest in explosive ways, and their parents hid him away, doing everything they could to remove, suppress, or contain his powers out of fear. The son of a fellow wealthy family, Bruce Wayne, a spoiled brat with a penchant for mischief, discovered him one day while sneaking around their building, and the two became quick friends, Bruce feeding his anger and frustration until finally, Kal broke out, murdered their parents, and he and Bruce went on a crime spree, killing hundreds of innocents. Through his powers, they discovered an island in the Mediterranean full of powerful warrior women, including a princess Kal seduced with promises of revenge on the world that had forced her people into hiding. With these three united, the world quickly bent its knee to their might. Alexander, feeling he could have been a better brother, took up the cause to fight against them and form a resistance.

Kara asks if they have any plans to defeat him, but they all seem pretty hopeless. She mentions specific weaknesses of Kryptonians, like Kryptonite and magic, both of which are a surprise to Alexander. He says he knows of the rock she mentions but had no idea of its effect on him. As for magic, Kara believes that she knows at least one person in this world who can help them.

Kara heads out on her own to Scotland in hopes of finding this world's Linda. She is accosted along the way by her own variant, who knew she'd find her eventually. The pair spar back and forth, Kara asking her why she works for Kal, at which Kara II gets defensive. Their fight carries them all the way to Scotland, only to find the entire British Isles a festering wasteland devoid of life and teeming with dark magic. The sight causes both Karas to stop fighting.

They find their way to MacDougal castle, clearly the source of the magic. They find Linda inside, withered and decrepit, her body emanating with the Silver Banshee's power. To her dismay, Kara realizes that this Linda was never saved from being sacrificed to the Banshee, and that her friend was long dead. The Banshee attacks the pair, and Power Girl is nearly killed by the power of her magic, but Kara manages to rescue her and they get out alive.

All throughout all of this, we will be cutting back to Alexander and Lois tracking down Kryptonite and making plans, and Mr. Mxyzptlk appearing to Ultraman and toying with him just enough so that he overhears a conversation between Owlman and Superwoman, planting seeds in his mind that they are conspiring against him and feeding his paranoia.

Back with Kara and Kara II, the pair rest far outside of the Banshee's domain, and actually talk. Kara II tells Kara that she wasn't that different from herself once, and had initially tried to fight against him, but after repeated failures and constant physical and emotional abuse, she had finally given into his will and became his enforcer, mentioning that she's done terrible things since that time. Kara I tells her that she's going to go fight him. Kara II says that she won't go with her, but she won't stop her anymore.

The resistance launches an attack on the tower. Ultraman and his forces repulse them as always, but this time, he gets downed by a blast of Kryptonite energy. His brother attacks him with a Kryptonite blade, dealing heavy blows to him. He is only saved when Superwoman intervenes and seriously wounds Alexander, flying Kal to safety. Kal's paranoia has gotten too much for him though, and he accuses her of giving them that strange rock that hurt him. Superwoman tries to fend him off, but he kills her easily. He then flies off to find Owlman. Owlman tries to sate him by showing him that the multiversal machine is fully functional now. Kal plunges his fist through his chest and says he'll activate it himself.

Kara flies to the tower, finds Alexander wounded, and takes the Kryptonite blade in with her. She finds Ultraman with the machine started up, ripping a hole through dimensions. Mxy flashes into existence, glitching slightly, and says that's the problem. It's messing with his powers. Kara challenges Ultraman and they fight. Kara tries to reason with him, telling him that her Clark is a hero, but Ultraman bites back that that's only because he got to live an actual life and hadn't been locked away for years to rot. Ultraman is about to kill Kara when Power Girl arrives and saves the day, standing up to her cousin. The pair work together, and Ultraman is ultimately defeated, knocked into the energy stream and ripped apart down to the atoms. The pair destroy the machine together and shut it down.

In the aftermath, Alexander and his resistance help take down the rest of the Syndicate. It is noted that Owlman and the Kryptonite blade seem to be missing. Mr. Mxyzptlk appears before them, thanking Kara and opening up a gateway back to her dimension. Power Girl asks if she can come with her, as she wants to see a world where Kryptonians are not looked at with fear. Kara accepts and they head through together.

In a post-credits scene, the two Karas come out in Metropolis, and Kara I asks her variant if she wants to meet a version of her cousin who's not an evil monster. They race each other out to the Kent farm in Smallville, but little by little, it becomes clear that this is not their world. They stop at the Kent farm before the Clark that appears in the Young Superman trilogy not connected to the cinematic universe. As the three stare at each other in confusion, Mr. Mxyzptlk appears again, and says, "Oops, my apologies. I just needed you to do one more little thing for me."

And that's it. What do you think?

[thxtandromedatonks]

The days of Hogwarts may have been now but memories, but that didn't stop those whom had attended from reminiscing. Especially upon the weeks in past for they would be the most rememberable. Either starting or returning for another school year all had their particular charm whether they be good or bad. It wasn't like that they could put those memories behind them either when the Prophet liked to write colums upon coloums of either praising or spiteful, depending on how they felt that day. But they couldn't take away the way the alumni of the school felt of their experience. This year however would be far different for those whom had attended.

It had almost become part of the routine for the couple, to be filled with dread whenever Scraggle appeared at their window with the days' issue and waiting for some sort of treat in return. Treating their owl with bad news felt rather odd. Or maybe it was just the hope that there would be no bad news.

It had started, September the 1st, at Platform 9 and 3/4s even before the train had arrived to take the students back to Hogwarts for their new, or first, school year. Merlin knows what the Muggle students thought of what they had stumbled upon, the witch wondered. She and her husband had spoken a lot about whther they should go to the platform or not. They decided against it for in the end he had overslept due to having been required to attend an Order meeting the previous night. It turned out it had saved them for there was a fire attack on the train lines, that there were Deatheaters waiting upon the train, that the train driver themselves was found inexplicably deceased within their cabin. She found out from her cousin that his friend had ended up using his weird cloak to go undercover to drive the train, much to his girlfriends' annoyance.

There had been incidents that had happened upon the train itself as it navigated the journey from London to Scotland. But all that she had heard no one could clarify, or sometimes remember. There was talk of Unforgivable Curses used, but whatever it was very few were willing to speak openly about it all. None of this however she had found out via the newspaper, but indeed her cousin whom knew whom Scraggle belonged to and would sometimes summon the bird down to slip an envelope, full of parchment notes, in the midst of the pages with what information they had that he felt the couple needed to now. Her cousin feared the Ministry had far more spies than the Order was willing to look out for, and so he had had her and her husband look into a few things for him, still aware that she was still in contact with a few unexpected folk that he himslef felt wary of.

This all came out when they finally opened the Hogwarts trunks one night. Their trunks had been the only thing to survive the fire, and one very late August evening, when the trio were sipping some Firewhiskey by the woodburner fire they decided to go through it all. Her husband had discovered compartments in the never-ending bag as well that she had forgotten were there and so that had helped them out no end. However she wasn't entirely sure how the compartments had been been magiced there in the first place!

Not everyone in the entire of the magical world had given her and her husband their disapproval. The good majority, either under influence, duress or belief, but their was a small pocket of those within the mInistry itself that were aware. They hadn't been at the wedding, but they most certainly knew of the midsummer service. They were contacts of the families that once worked at Black Manor. Whom had known Andromeda since she was a child and had watched her grow up, but only wanted the best for their favourite of the Black daughters. And they wanted this because she had taken the time to get to know them and their families. She kept their parchment letters within a locked book, but the heat from the fire had disintegrated a good majority of the spine of the book and so when they carefully lifted it up, all these handwritten envelopes fell out, much to Ted and Sirius' surprise, and to Andromeda's fear.

"And here's me thinking I knew you well!" He had joked as he had wrapped an arm around his wife trying to comfort her.

Sirius had taken the letters before she even had had a chance to explain, or that he realise he was reading personal correspondance. She gave in to letting him read one of the letters before snatching away the rest from his hands. He looked up at the couple whom were bearing down at him with complete disappointment. He handed the letter back without reading it so she could explain the situation to them both. And whom they were, and why they couldn't say anything. It had been one ofo them that had left the note for her in the Hogsmeade pub that the couple frequented when they needed to visit the area. Sirius realised what he had done and found the potion that Andromeda had concocted thet cleared your mind of your most recent learnings, before taking a sip to put the couples' mind at ease.

That night in bed, she explained to her husband the situation. About what they knew. She left him with the letters to read, of which he hadn't because he knew what he needed to know about her. And also he wasn't willing to read others' opinions on him when the only opinion that mattered to him was of hers. She couldn't of loved him anymore in that moment as he spoke to her of his reasoning, she loved him so much that that evening she made sure that he knew of it physically, tenderly, passionately. She made love to him in the way you can only do when the other knows that there are no more secrets to find out. Of which with her he now knew them all.

Except one.

She wanted to make sure of somthing first however before she told him as she was well aware that he needed to know. She'd tell him in time but she knew there were far more pressing matters to deal with. It was getting on for late September and the aftermath of the September 1st fall outs was still going on.

She had found an escape upon the top of their canal boat. She'd charmed around the top with as much protection she could must. So much so that sometimes when it rained the rain just slid down the side, but of course this had made it obvious that there was something there and so she had had to create something that would allow the rain and potentially snow, and only those two, to fall through the charm. She'd created her own little garden that was full of all different kinds of weird and wonderful plants. Some of which Ted had never seen before, others he had recognised from their Herbology lessons. It kept her busy and that's what mattered to him.

The Order meetings that he had been going to were strting to get to him. All he wanyed to do was get home and be with her. He didn't wnat to be hearing about death and destruction every evening. No one did. Especially when they weren't the ones doing the plotting. Nor did he particularly want to know what the other side did. And so he had stopped going. He hadn't told her this... although he wasn;t too sure why as he knew that going to the meetings wasn't doing him much favours,

"Andie..." he began as he looked up over his coffee to see her beautiful face looking withdrawn and drained as she read the pages. She glanced up, with a slight smile in his direction, and grateful that he had interrupted her reading. "... i, well I... I... that is to say... oh, this is not going well, but I.. don't even know why I haven't told you this...."

"Did you enjoy you wander along the towpath yesterday evening?" She already knew what he was about to say, because even though his mood was low it wasn't as low as someone whom had been attending the meetings and witnessing planning defensive strategies for the start of term. She smiled softly at him before putting the paper down. "I was going to wiat to have this conversation, but I don;t think I can hide another secret from you without the worry showing."

Ted put down his coffee and motioned to her to come and sit on his lap. Instead she tilted her head towards the sofa and they both obliged, him curling his body around hers so she knew that it was going to all be alright no matter what she said, and although she did know this you could never be too sure.

"You're pregnant aren't you?" She looked at him in bewilderment as to how he knew she was going to say that. "Back in days of not knowing I had any magic, I was round quite a few women who were going through that worry. They'd tell me because at 6 you're not supposed to know things like that, but they'd be practicing on what to say. Look, you didn't need to tell me until you were sure."

"Quite not sure what to say now after that! You took my moment away from me!" She smiled before wrapping her arms around him in mostly relief, but grateful to have no more secrets. "Thank you", she whispered against his ear which he replied with a smile that she felt, rather than saw. "Love you Mr Tonks."

He pulled her back to face him before stroking the side of her face until she felt all her worries disappear, "Love you back Mrs Tonks." He wrapped himself back round her again. "Let us just stay like this. Close the hatch door and keep the world out."

And that is exactly what they did for the rest of the day. She closed the door, locked it from the inside whilst he went and extinguished the fire before they got the big thick blanket for them both to hide under. Just recently they had been reading one of the most biring books together. They did this every so often. One reads one page to the other and the next reads the other, and so on until the book had ended. They had sort of started this back within their days at Hogwarts when she was trying to get him to learn more about Astronomy. She'd been determined to get him to pass their exams. Which ironically in the end neither of them took!

[astrologerinuk]

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[theseusurus]

Lost in a Haze, Fighting Fate | Part 1.

Summary: Y/N Raven has always suffered from their sight, From a young age Y/N could just always seem to predict the future however they just thought they were lucky, after attending Hogwarts and discovering their Seer Roots they began to trust it more and more however that can not be said for others. When Y/N fled Hogwarts they left everything behind, their teen love, their friends, family, and now with what seems like all sides against them, will they be ignored like seers before them and feed into temptation or will they fight for the good in the wizarding world and their love?

PART 1: THE RETURN OF THE ORACLE

Warnings: Mentions Bullying

Pairing: Bill Weasley x Reader (Slow Burn)

Word Count: 2.8k

The Abraxan Pulled Blue carriage creaked with life for what seemed like the thousandth time tonight as you sat with Madame Maxine -Olympe- as she wanted you to call her as you now were a professor and the students.

You fidgeted with your hands and sighed as you fixed the navy veil that covered your face and made sure to smooth out the silky navy uniform decorated with thousands of moving and dancing stars and constellations that Olympe had made just for you after she had promoted you to Head divination master.

Olympe sighed and placed a hand on yours before bending down and smoothing out your veil.

¨Little Star, you must calm down, you are antsier than the Abraxans before they've had their whiskey¨

She said with a laugh before seeing your still grim face under the veil, though the veil was hard to see through and hexed so only those who you wished could see under it she had grown able to tell your expressions with it. She sighed again and smoothed down your hair that stuck out from under your veil,

¨I know your time at Hogwarts was hard petite étoile, but little star you must not let zem ruin your time, look at you now! A Leading star of the divination field and one of the best seers in Europe! They regret never treating a shining star like you as what you are now! We will win this tournament and be a beacon of excellence and poise and that goes for all of you!¨

The students looked up and smiled at you before saying a cheer in French that left you a bit confused but in a better spirit, though you've been teaching at Beauxbaton for three years now you still struggled a bit with your french however many students struggled with English so in your class you all tried your best and the first year you all struggled together to communicate with the language barrier.

The boys and girls who had volunteered to come to the Triwizard tournament were some of your favorites, especially Fleur and her sister Gabrielle who had been the firsts to volunteer especially since they had never been to Hogwarts especially Scotland before and had heard your stories of the beautiful castle and breathtaking view.

¨We are almost there. Everyone, be ready, I want you all to be on your best behavior, am I understood? I want backs straight, smiles big and you all are ready? Come, come, I will check your uniforms one last time, Oh Fleur come here sweetie your hat! Oh, you all look amazing, oh I am about to cry, how proud you all make me!¨

Olympe looked three seconds from crying before You handed her your handkerchief and rubbed her back,

¨Oh Olympe, I know, don't cry remember we must be nothing but big smiles remember? We are going to blow them away! Oh yes everyone make sure to not flutter your capes too much until the entrance we don't want to let the Butterflies out too early¨

The girls nodded eagerly some talking to each other, whispering about things you can only imagine, some topics sticking out you could hear over the giggling, while the boys were helping each other straighten out their uniforms and mentioned durmstrang especially the girls which caused you to let out a little laugh which caused the boys to look up and fluster.

With that, you heard a loud voice and peaked out the window and saw Hagrid leading the Abraxan horses down the landing area and clapped excitedly. Before the Carriage landed harshly on the runway causing you to jolt before and fixing the beret on your head and standing.

You clapped happily before popping the Carriage door open, launching yourself out the door and falling feet first on the wet Scottish Grass and laughing as you helped up the students one at a time out of the carriage as they plopped down as well and complained about how the wet grass was sticking to their newly waxed shoes.

Hagrid rushed over and smiled as you helped Madam Maxine out of the carriage, her true height showing as she exited the carriage, she stood proud and tall over Hagrid and smiled as he turned Rosey and blushed at her before bending down and kissing her hand.

He began welcoming her with a shaky voice that seemed more fit for one of the first-year students rather than the tall bearded half-giant.

You smiled under your veil clearing your throat, before speaking in a thick French Accent that made a few of your students turn and give you a questioning look, all-knowing you were originally English and knew hell barely spoke a quarter of the french language.

“excusez Moi Monsieur, where iz my classroom, Madame Maxine was promised I would be given a room to perform my services during my stay”

Hagrid nodded excitedly and began to lead you, Olympe, and the students to the castle.

¨Yes, yes! They Are finishing it up now! We are all excited to see your work Professor, especially Professor Trelawney, she has been a big fan for a while you know.¨

You simply shake your head and smile, though you doubt anyone could see it under your veil, Trelawney was one of your favorite professors to have during your short time at Hogwarts, she was one of the few people excited that you were a Seer and was very supportive of you during your time, especially during the constant bullying you faced in your youth, that reminds you did have to thank her for that.

¨Oui, I bet they sure are Monsieur, however, it iz getting a bit late, shall we head to ze castle, I am how you say uh heureux?¨ ¨Happy?¨ A student chirped, ¨Ah Yes Happy! I Can not wait to see all the new faces! Come, Children follow the gentil géant, Let's Go, shall we? Oui?¨

With that, you Nodded at Hagrid as you turned back to the Carriage and pulled out a Black carry on Trunk from the space under your seat and slammed the carriage while Knocking on the door and yelling ¨Vous êtes doué!” before the Carriage shot off towards the castle as you turned back to Hagrid and started following him towards the Castle, the one that you once called home.

You and the students of both schools, your own and Durmstrang, were preparing to be announced and called in by Dumbledore and could quite clearly hear the students of Hogwarts gossiping amongst themselves, while you listened carefully against the door you could hear some of the Durmstrang students flirting with your students,

you Cleared your throat loudly which caused the Durmstrang girls to drop the poor 3rd-year boy that they were flirting with, he shot you a smile which you responded with a nod before you heard Dumbledore getting ready to introduce you all, You gathered up your students along with Olympe.

“Remember what we practiced everyone, Grab your partner, chop-chop! He is about to announce us, remember to release the butterflies at the dip!” “For Now please join me in Welcoming The Lovely students of Beauxbaton Academy of Magic and their Head Master, Madam Maxine, along with their Professor, and Head Seer Delphi!”

With that, the First Row of partners pushed open the door and walked out, arm and arm. Students of all kinds became locked in an intricate dance, twirling and spinning one another looking like Ballerinas straight from a performance dressed in baby blue silk.

Row by row they walked out and once they reached the end of the Tables, they Dipped their partners as Baby blue butterflies spilled out from under their capes leaving, most students stunned, muttering to one another about how beautiful the students looked before Olympe and you walked out.

You walked side by side with Olympe as she admired the students staring with a smirk before looking down at you, as you walked beside her your cape was shimmering and waving the constellations on it with each step before they reached the end of the cape and popped out shooting out constellations and stars all around you and Olympe before they swirled around you at your shoulders and slid down the cape again, your veil and lack of Face or even identity was obviously causing an issue with the Hogwarts students.

You both reached the end of the tables before bowing your heads to the clapping students as your students all did a curtsy at their new classmates for the tournament. You saw Dumbledore placing a kiss on Olympe’s hand before turning to place one on your gloved hand causing you to draw it back and make a face a disgust even though no one could see which was funny to your students apparently as they turned and laughed quietly behind their hands from the sides of the Great Hall where you joined them before dumbledore ran back to his Stand to announce Durmstrang.

“Now Please Treat the Proud Students of Durmstrang and their high master, Igor Karkaroff

With that welcome, the Durmstrang Students walked in all carrying staffs tapping them in a rhythm and grunting? Singing? You didn’t know how to describe it along to the beat, as each staff hit the ground they produced a light spark before they began to sprint and do tricks with their staffs before Viktor Krum and the Headmaster walked in and as they reached the end of the tables released a fire phoenix that surrounded him before shooting off into the roof and disappearing leaving you highly impressed with the effort of their performance.

Dumbledore lifted his arms and embraced Igor as he smiled and called for Dumbledore-albus? Who knows as they laughed and embraced each other once more.

¨Hogwarts! Let's entertain our friends in the best way we can! Everyone stand!”

Dumbledore led the Children of Hogwarts in song which with the off-key voices and the interesting choice of words including Hoggy hoggy Hogwarts in was rather confusing, the students and headmasters along with yourself looked rather confused and muttered amongst yourselves as the Hogwarts school continued their song.

As the Song finished Dumbledore announced to the students to sit wherever they would like among the four tables and mingle with another as he led you and the headmasters to the Professor’s table. You sat In Between Olympe and Igor as you sat in your chair you heard Olympe talking to Dumbledore.

¨Professor Dumbley-dore my horses have traveled a long way they will need attending to!¨

¨Surely Madame Maxine! Our Gatekeeper Hagrid is more than capable!¨ Hagrid smiled to himself and nodded at Dumbledore´s praise earning a chuckle from you and a nudge from Olympe.

¨As you know Monsieur Hagrid, they drink only single malt whiskey¨

Hagrid nodded excitedly before going down to get a bite of his food and missing his plate and stabbing his associate´s hand instead causing said professor to yell and call him an idiot, causing Hagrid to hang his head embarrassed.

As Dumbledore continued his speech about eternal glory and greatness, a storm had begun to brew on the mirroring roof with thick thunder and lightning sparking around the room some students had begun to scream causing a panic, you had just started to shush them and try and calm them down when it was shut down when Alastor Moody walked into the room and cleared it.

You could hear students beginning to mutter amongst themselves at the entrance of the man, you simply looked his way before turning to Olympe and whispering up to her as you both watched Moody walk around the room and be greeted by Dumbledore.

¨Madame that man is a walking travesty, did Dumbledore warn you about him being here?¨ ¨Of course, not dear, that old man does very little to warn us about his surprises it seems.¨

You both gave a look of disgust as you watch Moody turn his back to the children and tag a swig out of his flask, ¨Nothing but a damn drunk nowadays Olympe.¨

You watch as The minister and Dumbledore announce the Goblet of Fire and announce no one under 17 may participate, giving you some ease as many of your students were under 17. You however have grown tired from the long trip and all the worries of the day so you stood from the table rubbing at your temples over your veil and sighing, grabbing attention from everyone but mainly from Moody and Olympe.

Olympe shoots you a questioning look but you just shake your head and begin heading down the tables leaving a train of stars as you go from your robes, the stars swirling around you before floating towards students and popping with clusters of glitter following it and you could hear someone, who you assume is Moody, following you down the Great hall.

Quickly you started sprinting through the halls as you follow the instructions hagrid gave you hearing the footsteps beginning to catch up as you reach the door you rush and shut the door before they, whoever they are, can touch you.

PART 2

[ultimatetornshipper]

To bee or not to bee - a Jasonette fic

@moonlitceleste I almost let this die, I honestly really wanted it dead but alas it was clearly meant to bee 

(WARNING: contains puns, angst, crack and fluff. You have been warned)

If you don’t want to read my sarcastic/funny/fangirl commentary, skip the brackets

I have another bee movie au, i didn't plan it ("I don't claim to be proud. But my head won't be hung in shame. I didn't plan it. But the light turned red, and I ran it. And I'm still standing. It's not what I wanted, but now that it's right here. I understand it. A story written by my own hand" as quoted from Waitress), it just happened and i just couldn't resist. I'm not sorry

So what if instead of dying Joker turned Jason into a bee. Because Harley convinced him and told him that people were talking shit about him because he's named the Joker and they don't think he's funny. It surprisingly works. (Obviously Harley was the one who made the plan and did the magic I mean really what do u expect of Joker?)

Ok so now Jason’s a bee right? And he’s like 15 because .~:°*plot*°:~.

They look for him and Jason’s like flying around like, “Guys! Guys I’m right here!” Poor kid. (I mean I would make it funny but like angst)

Obviously they don’t understand him because he’s a fucking bee and Joker cackles madly and Harley laughs too but it doesn’t quite reach her eyes and it's kinda that laugh u do when ur supes overwhelmed and sound maniacal but like soft (I’m a simp for Harley being portrayed as the complex and beautiful character she id leave me be)

Jason is very sad. And also quite pissed

Not knowing what else to do he follows Batman home, he listens to them trying to find him, watches Dick freak out and Alfred wipe a tear the rest of the family doesn’t see.

Jason tries to approach Alfred, hoping he somehow recognizes what happened

He doesn’t, Alfred closes him in a glass and paper and takes him outside.

He sneaks back into the manor and sleeps in one of the flowers (it's a red tulip because aesthetic) next to his bed. He cries himself to sleep. (Can bees cry? Is this possible? Is this like a thing??? I don't need sleep i need answers)

The thing is even tho he's now a bee, he still has the durability of a human, so even stepping on him won’t crush him and he still has a human lifespan

Because Harley isn’t a monster and what Puddin didn’t know couldn’t hurt him. (Simping for Harley Quinn strike 2)

After a while at the manor and following them he decides he can’t stand it anymore. Alfred has thrown him out three times and Dick freaks out each time he sees him as he’s a tad allergic (read: he would die if stung)

Which is how Jason found out that getting hit with a newspaper wouldn’t kill him.

He leaves.

He’s a bee and it’s not like he knows about a way to reverse it.

But there was someone who might.

He goes to Arkham.

Luckily, Harley was still there. (YAY we get to see mah gurl)

He flies into her cell and she just watches him, then she seems to click. She gives him a small smile, “Hi birdie,” (she puns, honestly would make for a better clown of Gotham and I saw an idea for that once where she steals Joker’s title once and I’ve been yearning for it ever since)

She holds out a finger and he lands on it, she laughs but tears come to her eyes,” Hey at least you’re not dead. That was his original plan you know? To kill you with a crowbar. I convinced him this would be a cruller fate. I guess maybe it is, but at least this way... Ugh how the hell did I get here,” (Harley angst, honestly it’s all just self service at this point)

He simply stared at her as she cried, and he felt his heart clench. From here she looked so sad... not crazy, just broken.

She took a deep breath and looked at him seriously, “Look kid, there’s a way to get you back to normal, you just need to find someone, they’re called the Guardian of the Miraculous. They can help, I don’t know who or where they are, just follow your instincts. And come say hi when you get back, yeah? I could do with the... healthier company. And remember, I bee-lieve in you,” (Gasp what a shock, you mean to tell me Miraculous magic is gonna be involved in this Maribat au. Well I never what a shock. Also puns. Oh and she’s so nice to him. We love Harley in this house)

He sat there and studied her for a while more, there was more to her than it seemed. Than what he’d assumed.

But for now, he had his own problems to deal with.

She gave him a small wave as he left. (Adorable)

He left and started considering his options, as a bee, it would probably be safest to stay inside, away from birds and things that would view him as a snack.

Staying in Arkham seemed like his best option, as bad an option as it was.

Most of the prisoners wouldn’t have a second thought about trying to crush him.

A strong scent of flowers and plants suddenly came to his attention.

Of course! Poison Ivy. (Round 2 of me simping for beautiful, complex, badass women. Too bad Catwoman ain’t here.)

He followed the smell to her cell and saw her staring out of her small window. He was still taking a chance, but she loved plants and flowers and bees were important to those, weren’t they?

He flew to the window bars and sat on one. The moment she spotted him she smiled widely, in a soft way he hadn’t seen on her before. (Ahhhhh my darling plant redhead. I love writing the Sirens as soft badasses. Also has anyone noticed how rare brunettes are in superhero worlds? Like both in Marvel and DC but like irl brown is like a pretty damn common)

She held out her finger, “Hey there, little guy. A little far from home, aren’t we?”

She had no idea.

He landed on her fingertip and watched in awe as a flower and a few leaves formed on her hand. She let the flower grow itself around one of her window bars and held her finger next to one of the petals.

“There you go, it’s all I can manage with my power dampers. I haven’t had company in a while,” she said softly as he crawled into the flower. He made himself comfortable.

She laughed to herself and he saw her shaking her head, “Talking to a bee, well, I guess stranger things have happened,” (yeah ur crush is dating a green haired murderous psychopath and you get beat up by a billionaire in a batsuit on like a biweekly basis)

The flower was soft and warm and felt safer than he expected it to. He found that he could move between the petals but decided to curl up in the middle. (It's a pink rose this time because fuck yeah flowers)

He slept better than he had in days.

The next morning he took his leave, stopping only at the manor to say a mental goodbye.

Then he headed off.

Jason flew a lot the first few months, our boy was smart at least, travelling with a cruise ship on its way to Europe.

It was Spring in the Northern Hemisphere so he had until Autumn until it was in his best interest to head south to avoid the snow. He decided to head towards Africa when summer started coming to an end. (I have no reasoning for this, just that I want to)

His first spot would be the United Kingdom. Then he'd go through the rest of Europe following his instincts.

At least it was Spring.

Jason diligently searched through England, Scotland and Ireland but found nothing.

By the time he was done he realized it was time to start heading South. He’d decided to take another cruise to South-Africa, where it would be summer, he searched through the country until April. He would admit that he didn’t feel drawn to anything in any of their 9 provinces so his search wasn’t as diligent as in England. He didn’t feel anymore drawn to the neighbouring countries like Namibia or Botswana either.

(Once again no reasoning for why I picked these countries, I mean the French Hugonotes went there when they were fleeing from the French Catholics who wanted them dead so I guess I could make up some bullshit about Mari having an ancestor in common with someone there or maybe it was just the ship he could easiest get access I don’t know, you make something up)

Which was why he decided to go back to Europe as soon as April hit.

He hitched another ride on a cruise headed for France.

It’s been a year since he got turned into a damn bee.

He was sixteen now and while he’d seen some amazing things all through South-Africa (a place that proves that humans really do have a weirdly obvious way of naming things I mean the Amazon river and Chad Lake are just more examples really) as well as the United Kingdom, all he really wanted was to go back home, to be human again.

When he gets there he diligently makes his way through France, eventually arriving in Paris.

He lands on the tip top of the Eiffel Tower. As in the point of the antenna because why not.

During his year he realized that birds and other animals tended to avoid him, sensing his strangeness so that was at least one positive.

He stared out over the city. Well, the one good thing about this was definitely the views he’s been allowed to see.

That was until a massive explosion hit.

“What the fuck?” he said out loud, searching for the source. No one understood him, human or bee, but talking to himself reminded him of his humanity.

He found the source of the explosion but just as he started flying to its general direction, a blinding white light shone followed by a horde of ladybugs that were fixing everything that was wrong. (Imagine how scary this would lowkey be irl tho? Just a shit ton of Ladybugs descending on Paris my dude)

He decided that he needed a night’s sleep before he could even begin an attempt at deciphering what had just happened. He flew lower, finding a nice little balcony right above a bakery. And it had flowers. (I’ll give u five seconds to guess who this balcony belongs to)

He flew down, exploring.

He turned around when he heard a loud thump from behind him. What appeared to be a super heroine in red spandex with black spots had landed on the balcony.

She detransformed and started to talking to a floating bug- fairy thing. Strange. Though it wasn’t like he could judge, as an ex superhero sidekick who was thought to be dead but was actually a bee.

She disappeared down her trapdoor and he made himself comfortable in one of her flowers.

He slept soundly until somewhere during a night another thump woke him. He looked out of his sleeping spot to see a cat superhero stand on her balcony. He leaned down and knocked on her small trapdoor.

Ah, a teammate of hers, they were probably meeting about something, he thought as he heard her open up.

It didn’t take him long to realize that even though they were teammates, the cat, Chat Noir he later learned, was not aware of this fact.

Oh this was rich.

He couldn’t bee-lieve his eyes. (ok so Jason used self-referential puns but can you really blame him? It’s really just me and my pun problem so don’t blame the kid)

He was going on and on about his feelings for Ladybug, the girl’s hero form, that were clashing with his feelings for another girl he fenced with, while she listened, clearly fed up with it.

He also claimed that he thought that maybe they were one and the same. Which, to Jason, was hilarious as he was literally saying this to the actual Ladybug’s face.

Marinette- he learned from the Cat’s ongoing blabbering, he was a real blab-bee mouth, - was clearly tired, nodding half asleep, probably having heard it all before.

When he finally left Jason went to sleep again, incredibly amused and even more thankful that he was fluent in French. ( u think this is plot convenience? Just u wait mah dude iz about to get worse)

The next morning he decided to follow her to school. Which was how he learned of her huge crush on a boy named Adrien Agreste.

After learning the boy could fence thanks to Marinette’s obsession interest in him, he got suspicious.

Could it really bee? (not a typo)

After seeing the boy transform a month or two later for patrol he laughed like he hadn’t for over a year. It very much was. He'd spent the time staying on Marinette's balcony and decided to stay another week before moving on and continuing his search, after all, he couldn't stop now that he finally felt like he was getting close.

The next day she got home crying, claiming that Adrien had started dating someone else.

Kagami, she called the girl. Probably the fencer if he had to place a bet.

“I’m sorry, Marinette,” Tikki told the girl.

“That boy's an idiot,” he said, speaking his mind, another thing he’d gotten use to being allowed to do without consequence.

Marinette nearly jumped out of her skin, she looked around and he realized that she could hear him. He hadn’t really spoken too much before, at least not when she was around. He was usually content with watching her do whatever she was doing that day.

“Tikki, did you hear that?” she asked, Tikki nodded, her eyes landing on him.

“Oh,” the kwami said softly, flying over to him, “Oh, you poor thing, who did this to you?” (Tikki is the first ever mom friend and u can fight me on this)

He stared up at her, flying so that they were eye level.

Marinette gaped at them, heartbreak seemingly forgotten, “Tik- Tikki, are- who are you talking- are you talking to a – Tikki is that a bee?!” she finally spluttered out.

“No,” Tikki said, studying him, he felt his heart twist in hope and his stomach roll in surprise. Did she know?

“I mean yes, but no. He’s a boy whose been turned into a bee,” Tikki explained, turning back to Marinette.

“Oh,” Marinette said softly, turning to him. She held her hand out and after some hesitation he landed on her finger. She looked at him then back to Tikki.

How did they know? Would he really be that lucky? Was this real?

“Uhm, how?” she said, staring at him in disbelief. He tried shrugging but realized he couldn’t anymore- beecause of his- well if you haven’t caught on to the fact that he’s a bee by now you should really start from the beginning of this story.

“I don’t know, but Joker and Harley Quinn were involved,” he said.

Marinette stared at him in disbelief, blinking a few times. She sat in shock a few moments longer. (Our darling is an awkward lil bean, and while in media awkward is portrayed as cute, irl it isn’t, it’s just well… awkward. And we’re writing a serious and realistic fic about this sidekick of guy who wears a batsuit/billionaire's ward getting turned into a bee and falling in love with a magical girl fighting a butterfly man- none of this unrealistic nonsense)

Tikki flew over and sat on Marinette’s shoulder while her holder processed the information, the kwami stared at him sweetly, “What’s your name?”

He swallowed, he hadn’t said his name in ages, it stirred up something (emotion, it’s called emotion, Jason, you know? The thing Batman can’t process??) in him, “Jason Todd,”

Marinette seemed to finally snap out of her daze, “That sounds American. Are you American? Wait if Joker and Harley are involved then you’re probably from Gotham. Are you? Wait I’ve seen the name Jason Todd somewhere. Weren’t you some rich guy’s ward? It was all over the news last year, Alya wouldn’t stop talking about it for a month, she had a million theories. He was – you were announced dead two months after Robin was taken captive by Joker, everyone thought he was – you were killed. Joker made outrageous claims as they arrested him... saying that they’d never find Robin... that he’d all but disappeared in thin air... that he wouldn’t be the only one wearing stripes... I remember because he put a really weird emphasis on the words be and stripes and...,” her eyes widened and she gasped as she looked at him in what could only be described as pure shock. (Yes this happens, people can talk for this long and since I personally know headcannon that Marinette is ADHD this long ass paragraph is just another Tuesday bud)

He sat there, surprised that she figured it all out so quickly. (yeah bub it’s called plot convenience and it’s because of me, the writer, I don’t wanna focus on secret ID shenanigans, I got other plans for yall, also Mari is smart, don’t underestimate her)

“You’re Robin,” she breathed, “they turned you into a bee. Wait- How the hell did they turn you into a bee?!”

He chuckled, “Bee-lieve me I’ve been asking myself that question for more than a year,”

She bit her lip, seemingly contemplating his words and ignoring his pun, “Tikki do you know anything that could help? Do you think Miraculous magic-,”

He felt his heart stop, he flew up to her face, flying at eye level, “Wait, did you just say Miraculous? Harley said if I could find the Guardian of the miraculous, they could help me, do you know where they are? I’ve been looking for so long,” (‘°;~*.plot convenience.*~;°’)

Marinette blinked at him and Tikki's face dawned with realization.

“I’m the guardian of the miraculous,” Marinette said softly, “Tikki, that means I can help him, right?”

Tikki nodded and he had to dial down the hope in his heart because the look on her face told him there was a Kim Kardashian sized butt on the way.

“We can help him, but we’re gonna have to wait. (don’t look at me like that, do u want them to have time to bond or not?) You’re not trained enough to pull it off yet. If you were to do it now, all three of us would be out of commission for far too long, especially with Hawkmoth on the prowl,” Tikki said.

They must’ve been able to sense his sadness because they were staring at him with an incredible amount of pity. The amount was quite unsettling actually and he suddenly felt a primal like urge to pun. (An extract from my book: “My unhealthy coping mechanisms and how to use them,” specifically Chapter 8: “Humor hides the pain”)

Suddenly Tikki’s face lit up, the whiplash of her expression change throwing any notion of punning out the window.

“Well, there’s one thing we could do,” she said, excitedly, zipping buzzing around “If he wears a miraculous, he'll return back to human form while transformed,”

Marinette perked up at the idea, but confusion soon overtook her features, “But Tikki, most of the miraculous are bigger than he is,”

Tikki waved her away,” It’s fine it’ll work,”

“Ok,” Marinette said after a bit of thought. She stood and he followed while she started climbing down her skylight,” I’m thinking you can try each of them out for different patrols and then we’ll see which one matches you best. This could be fun, having some fun sized company while figuring out how to defeat Hawkmoth,”

He laughed, flying near her ear, “Fun sized, huh? I’ll have you know I’m considered tall in human form, unlike some of us,”

She laughed and rolled her still tear stained eyes, and so, the beginning of a bee-autiful friendship bloomed.

Marinette walked to her closet and Jason took in her room. It was very pink, but in a well-balanced way - it wasn’t completely overbearing. His eye caught on a few pictures of Adrien Agreste on her wall but figured now wouldn’t be a great time to bring it up. (Look he’s already more emotionally aware, #foreshadowing of character development)

She removed a big box from her closet. She opened it and it was filled with what appeared to be a bunch of scrap materials. At the bottom she removed a bigger bundle of black and red fabric and he flew closer.

She put it in her lap and Jason had to do a double take when he realized that her hands were glowing and what the actual fuck- it was a box now -fuck fuck fuck- why was it a box? How? What- Jason was pretty sure he did not sign up for this.

She put the box down in front of her and to his relief she opened her mouth to speak as she lifted the lid, so he’d understand everyth- and its jewellery.

The box contained jewellery. Animal themed jewellery by the looks of things.

He then realized that these were probably the other miraculous.

She looked over each artefact before handing him the yellow and black hairclip.

Out of all of them, she picked the bee miraculous.

“Hilarious,” he replied dryly, giving her a look, he realized too late she wouldn’t be able to register- on account of, well you know… (if u don’t know by now, you don’t get to find out anymore)

She gave him a grin and replied, “I certainly think it is,”

Her teasing expression turned into one of worry, “I mean we could switch it out if it makes you uncomfortable-,” (being a sassy people pleaser with no filters really do be like this tho)

He laughed, “Don’t worry, I’m only teasing. What do I do?”

Marinette opened her mouth to answer before obviously realizing that she didn’t have an answer. She turned to Tikki and the kwami had a fond smile on her face before turning to Jason. (Just Tikki casually mentor- moming Mari because Fu is useless)

“Just step on the miraculous, it’ll sense that you’re human,” the creature replied.

When he stepped onto the bee miraculous, its kwami appeared.

Pollen stared at him for a few seconds before she realized what was happening.

After an explanation about her power set and what exactly he could do in suit, he transformed.

He felt his human body appearing. He was taller and more built than he remembered being. His flying clearly had physical consequences then, not that he was complaining.

His suit included a pair of bee wings. His hair was longer than he remembered it being too.

He had a black leather jacket and combat boots. With it was a pair of practical black leggings and a yellow t-shirt with three thick black stripes. (The three stripes represent each one of his families, the Todds, the Waynes and The Dupain-Chengs, because I can) He also had a pair of black gloves. His boots had yellow laces. On his face was a black and yellow striped domino mask. The top sat on his hip. The bee miraculous sat on the middle of his chest in the form of a broach.

He all but sprinted to the mirror. He stared at his face, his blue eyes and his nose that never healed quite right after breaking it that one time. His black hair was messy and stuck up every which way, his cheekbones were as high as always, and he had a little bit of stubble and it was so familiar and so new all at once.

He touched his face, barely registering the tears flowing down his cheeks and laughed in relief. He was human again. This was real! He could- he was closer to normal than he ever thought he’d get to be.

He turned to Marinette who was staring up at him in shock. He picked her up and spun her around, laughing in joy. And after a moment she joined in. He put her down and put his hands on her shoulders, smiling widely, “Thank you. Thank you so much,”

She smiled up at him, a slightly sad look on her face, “I’m sorry, it’s not permanent,”

“Don’t be sorry. For the first time I have hope. It will be permanent eventually, and till then, I have you with me, right?” he squeezed her shoulder, still high on the feeling of hope and warmth and familiarity.

When he was overcome with the sudden urge to pull her into a hug, he didn’t resist.

He held her close, resting his chin on her head, “Damn, I missed this. Hugging, I mean. I haven’t... it’s been so long,” (not that he got all that many hugs from Bruce “emotionally constipated” Wayne)

She wrapped her arms around him, “I can imagine,”

They stood there a while before the time for patrol came along. She transformed and they made their way to the Eiffel tower, where they met Chat.

The cat themed hero rose his brow questioningly, “I thought we didn’t recruit new heroes unless it was an emergency?”

Ladybug smiled nonchalantly, “It’s Guardian business, he’s gonna be a permanent fixture in our team for at least a few months so we might as well get used to working as a team,”

Chat Noir eyed him wearily and he stepped forward, sticking his hand out, “Hi, I’m Blackback, nice to meet you,”

Chat Noir shook his hand and gave Ladybug a sceptical look, “An American? Really?”

“Please Chat, he's not American, it’s just the glamour hiding his actual accent,” she replied simply, shooting Jason a worried look.

He couldn’t give away his identity, but he was also technically a bee, he didn’t really have an identity to give away. So, her behaviour was strange. Unless she wanted to give him an identity somehow?

He couldn’t stop thinking about it for the rest of patrol.

When they got home Marinette revealed that she wanted to give him the fox miraculous. If they asked Trixx she would be able to design the costume in a way that allowed him to look like a normal civilian, without the mask.

Trixx's glamour was also stronger than the rest so his true identity as Jason Todd would be protected.

And she could help him fake an accent.

Since Marinette was a year younger than him he could just pick up where he left off school wise.

She convinced her parents that he was an exchange student in desperate need of a place to stay because the person he would’ve stayed with backed out last minute.

They agreed easily and Jason decided to not question it.

It was his third family. His second if you only counted non abusive ones. First if you wanted one with a healthy family dynamic.

They got him a fake birth certificate and name. He went with the alias Thomas Grayson. He thought it was kind of funny, and it paid homage to both Bruce and Dick. It gave him something from home to hold on to. (Jason isn’t really salty about not being avenged in this au, he didn’t die and Talia and the pit madness wasn’t there to egg on his anger. But maybe if I ever get back to this au we could do a thing with it… guess we’ll have to wait and see ;-) no promises tho)

He built himself another home with Marinette and her family. And before he knew it, he was happy again. He felt secure.

Through the weeks, he ingrained himself into Marinette's life. In a blink of an eye, they were best friends, and he couldn’t imagine life without her.

He loved living with her family as she trained to be strong enough to turn him back to normal.

He grew close to Marinette’s friends and was her shoulder to cry on about Adrien. He and Adrien got along pretty well, and he and Marc and Rose traded Literature jokes. Max would join in when it involved Shakespeare.

Then Lila happened. (She’s a staple in Maribat fiction. U can’t have Maribat without Lila. Or well u can but that’s usually a very specific au)

Her lies started out simple enough. Then she started manipulating everyone and he, Marinette, Chloe and Adrien were one scheme away from being ostracized. They sat in the back row.

They ignored her sneers and let her lie to her heart’s content. Then one day she said something that made both Marinette and Jason freeze.

“You know, I was childhood friends with Jason Todd (I know she usually gets the names wrong but like her knowing the name just makes this next bit better) You know, Bruce Wayne’s ward who died a while ago? It was just so sad. He grew up in a nice family but his parents both died in a car accident and Brucie took pity on him. He even let us keep in contact afterwards, since our parents were such good friends. We all miss them dearly of course. We were neighbours the year we lived in Gotham, you know? We'd play every day-,” she started fake crying, “Oh it just gets too much sometimes,”

But to Jason’s shock Alya didn’t move to console Lila, in fact, she was staring at the brunette in shock.

He turned his gaze to Marinette to see the girl wearing the biggest, coldest, most satisfied smirk. She rested her chin on her hands and grinned at Lila in a way that made shivers go down his spine.

He turned back, this ought to be good.

And it was.

Alya absolutely lost it.

She ripped Lila a new one and frankly? Jason was impressed. (Alya has a temper and she’s a fangirl, and we all know how we get when someone gets something wrong about one of our hyperfixations, even if it’s an old one so like yall can imagine how bad Lila had fucked up)

When an akuma flew in towards Lila, Alya grabbed it, staring the girl down with a fury he didn’t know she could possess, “Don’t you dare! Do you think I’m blind? I’ve seen how easily you get akumatized and this time I’m not letting it happen!”

Of course, Alya then got akumatized but hey it beat another version of Lila.

Everyone made up but they weren’t quite as close as before. Their group tended to consist mostly out of him, Marinette, Chloe, Adrien, Kagami and Luka.

Other than that incident and akuma attacks, life was pretty good.

In fact, it was great.

He and Marinette would spend nights on her balcony, laughing and slow dancing. They star gazed and went on patrols. He helped her when she got nightmares and she returned the favour. They went on long walks and spent the holidays together. They crammed for tests and he played model for her designs. They worked in the bakery and hung out with their friends both in and out of suit. They’d joke about his technical bee-ness and he and Chat drove her mad with puns. In retaliation she’d introduce him as her bee friend to people or only give him honey and bee themed things. (ok this sentence sounds weird but I mean like when she brings them sweets from the bakery to snack on while working and stuff.)

And one laugh, memory and fight at a time, he started to fall. (I just want good things for Jason, and really can you blame me?)

Through the months, he kept up to date on the news about Bruce Wayne and Marinette held his hand each time a new kid joined his brood. She reminded him that no child could be replaced and reassured him that of course Bruce would want him back when they figured everything out.

And if he didn’t, she’d kick his ass into space, and he’d stay with her family in Paris- a family she made sure he knew he was a part of.

He helped Sabine in the kitchen and was the only one who came closest to beating Marinette’s Ultimate Mega Strike 3 record. Tom taught him to shave and bake. He was integrated into their family and they treated him as part of the family.

But even if they were giving him everything they were, he missed Bruce. And Dick. And Alfred. And Barbara. And Gotham. He missed them all so much. He missed home.

So, 14 months later, when Marinette told him they had a meeting with the Justice League about the Hawkmoth situation, Jason felt his heart skip a beat.

“What?” he asked softly, his eyes brimming with tears (Marinette taught him how to emotion, you see. So Jason is emotionally stable-ish enough to cry without feeling embarrassed about it), “I get to see him again?”

Marinette nodded and hugged him from behind, “I’m planning on telling him what happened. Is there anything you can tell him to verify who you are?”

Memories from a million years ago entered his mind, “Yes,”

She took his hand and took a step back, “And I think I can fix you before we go, I’m strong enough. But I’d still like your help in the final battle, I mean I know you’re going home but...,”

He tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear and smiled, “Of course, Pixie. I’ll always be there for you when you need me,”

He pressed a kiss against her forehead, a movement so familiar it was practically a part of him. He pulled her close and cried into her hair.

“What if he doesn’t believe me?” he asked softly, after a while, resting his chin on top of her head.

“He will,” she replied, tightening her grip around his waist.

They both knew she had no guarantee of that. That she had no way of knowing for sure. Neither of them did.  And it scared him more than he wanted to admit.

The next day they do the magic turning back thing. It freaks him out quite a bit but not as much as her revealing the miraculous freaked him out the first time, you get kinda used to the magic shenaniganary. They’re both passed out for an hour afterwards and when they wake up, he holds her, crying, because he was finally, finally back to normal and this was real and permanent, and it was over.

She cried with him and held him, and they then went out and he wore a shirt she made for him, and they got ice cream the next day. They celebrated some more and went to the park with the squad and they had a picnic.

It was better than he ever could've imagined.

While the sun was setting, they stood back on her balcony, where they first spoke all those months ago, slow dancing. He pulled away and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and smiled at her as the orange light of the sunset shone on them. (So aesthetic)

“Thank you, Marinette, for everything,” he says as he rubs his thumb across her cheek. His hand holding her face. She puts her hand over his and closes her eyes, savouring the moment.

She opened her eyes again and smiled, “I’d do it again and more, if it meant I’d get to be with you,”

He started leaning down, “If I lost you, I’d fly all over the world just to find you again,”

She raised to her tip toes, faces millimetres from one another, blue bells meeting ice, “So it was all worth it in the end?”

He moves closer, eyes searching hers. “Definitely,” he breathes.

She closes the distance, and he picks her up and spins her around. They break apart and their laughter fills the air.

(now that’s enough fluff, allow me to drown you in angst)

The next day they stood on the Eiffel tower. She took his hand, “Let’s recap. I go in, we have our Hawkmoth meeting, then I ask if I can speak to Batman and Nightwing alone. Then I tell them I found you, then I give them – are you sure it’s necessary for me to give them your blood, hair and a cheek swab? Isn’t that overkill?” (Batman is serious about his no kill rule, but he’s also serious about his there’s no such thing as overkill rule)

He shook his head and she sighed, “Okay. Then I give him means to contact me and I come back. Now remember they might take a while to process and they won’t necessarily call immediately-,”

“What if they never call?” he asked, gripping her hand tightly.

She ran her finger softly through his hair, “Then you have us to help you get through it,”

He nodded, she kissed his cheek and stepped through the portal with Queen Bee, Chat Noir and Viperion. He and Ryuuko stayed behind as backup, he wielded the Fox miraculous these days, but kept the name Blackback, always wearing a black leather jacket no matter the transformation.

He and Ryuko discussed fighting styles, she was kindly trying to distract him, and if it had been anything else he needed distracting from, it would’ve worked.

So passed the slowest forty-five minutes of his life. Chat Noir and Queen Bee exit a portal and so the wait for Marinette and Luka began.

She and Bruce were talking now. Bruce would know he was alive. This was make or break for him. Luka was nearby to act as back up worst-case scenario.

He felt a hand on his shoulder, followed by someone taking and rubbing circles on his back. He looked down to see Ryuuko on his one side and saw Chat Noir on his other.

“We’ve got you,” Chloe said standing in front of him, hand on his unoccupied shoulder.

He swallowed and nodded. She squeezed his upper arm and met his gaze, “Breathe, you’re safe, honey,”

So, 30 more minutes pass. They sit down and somewhere along the line Chat goes and grabs a dozen croissants from the bakery.

In another situation he might’ve laughed. He’d baked this morning’s batch and now he got to eat some of it for free, of course, technically he could get others for free too but-

The portal opened behind them and Ladybug and Viperion stepped out. He noted that she didn’t have the bag of his DNA with her anymore.

She smiled softly at him, “Now we wait,”

And wait they did.

They waited two weeks.

And then the burner phone that's number they'd given Bruce rang.

Jason froze, Marinette jumped up and ran to get it.

He couldn't move as she walked over and put the phone on speaker, she grabbed his hand and he held onto her for dear life.

"We can both hear you now, Nightwing," she said.

There was a beat of silence on the other side of the line, "Can he- If you're- can I speak to him? In- um- private?"

Marinette looked at him, and he nodded. She took the phone off speaker and handed it to him.

He held it up to his ear and squeezed his eyes shut, focusing on the circles Marinette were drawing on his hand with her thumb.

"He- hey Dick," he said. He heard his brother's breathing hitch, followed by a few seconds of silence.

"When did Batman find you?"

"25th May 2017,"

"Who's your favourite author?"

"Mary Shelley tied with Jane Austin,” he replied.

Dick stayed silent for too long and before he could stop himself the words fell from his mouth, desperation clinging to each syllable,” My favourite- my favourite playwright is Shakespeare, and my favourite school subject is English. If I could pick any day job it would be being a writer. My favourite colour is blue. Alfred has a secret fear of dolphins. You have had a ridiculously huge crush on Barbara for years and she had no idea, and I found a picture you drew under your old room's bedside table of you two getting married. I folded the picture up and hid it in a small box of memories I kept in the farthest corner of my closet under clothes I never wore. I have a round scar on the lower left side of my back where Willis Todd burned me with a cigarette when I was 5 that you don’t know I know you know about. My first Christmas at the manor you found me in the rose garden cutting a few off to take to my mother's grave and I was terrified that you would yell at me but instead you drove me to the graveyard and that was the day I decided to give you a real chance. I despise carrots but I eat them when Alfred makes them because I don't want to be a burden. And I-," he choked on a sob- when had he started crying?

He took a shuddering breath, and swallowed some of his tears, trying to make sure the words got out right, "I've missed you guys for every single second that I've been gone,"

His stomach tied itself up in a million knots as the silence stretched on. He could hear Dick moving the phone.

"Can I speak to Ladybug again please?" A female voice he didn't recognize said.

He handed the phone to Marinette and pressed his hand over his mouth to try to contain the sobs. He felt like a knife was twisting his stomach. He couldn't even hear what Marinette was saying. (I’m going through something irl and as a result u guys get to read angst by the bucketloads and I regret nothing)

Dick didn't want to talk to him. He should've just answered the question, he shouldn't have given all the extra information. Now they were never going to believe that it's really him and he would never see them again. Maybe they knew it was him and they just didn't want him-

"Jason, breathe with me," he heard Marinette's voice. His eyes latched onto hers like a lifeline, he became aware of her hands holding his.

She took his face in her hands and rested her forehead against his, in a motion so familiar that it came as easy as breathing. Well as easy as it usually was to breathe, right now excluded.

After he calmed down, she explained to him what they discussed. They would go to Gotham and meet and discuss things from there.

They wanted to meet him, but they still didn’t completely believe that it was him. He knew this for a fact because they had organized for M’gann to be there to confirm what he was saying. (Yassss M'gann my darling girl, I adore out lil Martian)

Marinette had suggested that they meet in the Batcave in an hour. Everyone had agreed. He assumed she had a plan as to why she wanted to wait. And he trusted her, so he waited for her to explain.

“I want to take the team, as backup. If you’re not comfortable with it, I want to at least take Luka. I would suggest just letting one of us wield is miraculous, but his Second Chance Timer limit is an hour so it would be most beneficial,” she said, gesturing with the hand that wasn’t holding his.

He nodded, sitting up straighter, but not releasing his grip on her hand, “We can bring the team, it’s smart to have backup. Besides if things go haywire, we have Luka to stop us.”

“Then let’s go get our team, love,”

(oh, I should probably mention that only he and LB knows everyone’s Identities. Or well rather no one knows like officially. Like everyone lowkey knows everyone's and a few of them have officially revealed themselves to each other, but not everyone is officially revealed to everyone and Mari and Jason are the only ones who aren’t officially revealed to anyone else, it’s kinda like the vibes of knowing your best friend is queer but not saying anything because they haven’t officially come out yet but like you know because they ain’t nearly as subtle as they think. Like that aesthetic.)

Anyway, 50 minutes later, they’re all gathered on the Eiffel Tower. Jason saw Marinette give Luka a nod to reset his timer. Suddenly he was enveloped in a light with a scratch that wasn’t there a few seconds before on his cheek, his expression quite annoyed.

Marinette immediately furrowed her brows, “How many times?”

Viperion shook his head, “Don’t worry, only one so far, but they try to restrain us. We’re gonna have to try plan b this time,” Everyone nodded, they waited two minutes before the agreed upon time and Mari opened a portal, but instead of appearing out in the opened, they hid in the shadowy parts of the cave.

Jason used his illusion to hide them from any observant eyes and they spread out a bit. He and Mari stayed together, Cloe flew to get a higher perspective and hide Viperion on one of the cave’s many ledges while Chat just moved a few feet away to have a slightly different hiding spot. Kagami dropped into her wind form and was flying above them to eavesdrop, she’d go to Luka if she heard anything of importance so he could go restart again.

They’d be one step ahead of the Bats no matter what they pulled, after all, they had all the time in the world.

They watched them all get into position as time neared. Jason didn’t know all the kids but recognized them from the news.

Dick, Bruce and M’gann stood near the bat computer with Barbara – who was in a wheelchair but that was a realization to deal with later- and Alfred.

The minute they were supposed to appear Jason cast another illusion to make it appear as though they had arrived. As expected, weapons and restraints immediately swarmed on them, each kid going for a different miraculous member. Too bad the images turned into orange dust as soon as they touched them.

The tiny one in the Robin uniform was red in the face and immediately started throwing a tantrum, “Father! They’ve tricked us-,”

Before he could get another word out, Chloe mass-venomed the horde of kids that we’re sent to attack them. He counted Black bat, Red Robin, Batgirl, Signal and Robin. They were all frozen in the middle of the room and before the others near the computer could move, Kagami trapped them in a (rather large) ring of fire. They had enough space to move around comfortably but if they tried approaching the edge the flames would grow larger.

Batman growled and his eyes searched through the cave, but he wouldn’t see them, no matter how hard he searched.

Jason stared at them. Dick was also searching the cave, but he seemed to look more hopeful than angry. Alfred seemed his usual calm self and Barbara was glancing around the cave more subtly. He didn’t bother looking at the rest of the batkids because M’gann was staring right at him, staying right where she was despite her ability to fly.

“Hi, Jason,” she softly spoke into his mind, he felt emotion overwhelm him, she’d known him before everything, and she knew it was him and it was a lot.

He knew she wasn’t probing around his brain for information like he was sure Bruce had asked her to, she didn’t have to, she knew it was him.

“Can you please tell me why we’re surrounded by fire?” she asked.

“We have a time traveller,” he replied.

“Ah, not a fan of Bruce’s restrain and question method, then? Can’t say I blame you, though I do think you’ve proven your point,”

“You really think it’s a good idea to release all of them?” he asked sceptically.

“… Good point. Maybe leave the brood in the middle in whatever frozen state they’re in and just let us in the fire out. They really just think it’s too good to be true… Jason, I won’t let them hurt you,”

“Okay,” he agreed softly. He turned to Marinette and gave her a slight nod. She returned with one of her own.

They walked over to Kagami’s ring of fire and he held their illusion until they were right in front of it. He held on to it for a bit to make sure everyone else would be able to stay in position. Chloe would keep the cavalry venomized and Chat and Viperion would stick to the shadows, unless necessary.

Jason dropped the illusion and watched four heads snap to him. M'gann simply gave him a soft smile and a nod of encouragement.

Kagami moved herself to stand next to Marinette and turned back into her human form, glaring at them with a silent warning.

Their attention was elsewhere, though. For a long time they just stood there and stared at one another in silence. They studied every part of one another they could see.

His eyes caught on Barbara’s wheelchair and he felt ready to destroy whatever put her there. She met his eyes and he held her gaze. She must’ve seen something there because she gave a small smile as she allowed a few tears to escape her eyes.

“Miss Martian?” Batman broke the silence like a cheap dinner plate, shattering it in a matter of seconds.

“It’s him,” M’gann answered without a hint of hesitation.

It was Alfred that moved first. He took a few hesitant steps towards him and before Jason knew it the man was in front of him. Alfred reached out and put a hand on his shoulder, desperately studying him for a moment before pulling him into a hug only Alfred could give.

It took Jason a moment to respond but when he did he returned it wholeheartedly.

After a few minutes they pulled apart and it took him a moment to realize that they’d both started crying. When he looked up Dick was only a few feet away. The moment Alfred stepped away Dick pulled him close.

“I thought you were dead, kid. I thought I’d never see you again, I thought I lost even more family. You were too young, too innocent. Fuck Jason,” Dick whispered, tightening his grip, “I’m so glad you’re alive,”

Jason held on to his brother and that night they cried about terrible endings and broken beginnings. They cried about lost time and found family.

It wasn’t the end yet, Hawkmoth was still terrorizing Paris and he had no idea what Bruce thought yet. There were all his other kids, his brothers and sisters. There were his teammates and the incredible story of how he’d been turned into a bee of all things.

They had a lot of catching up to do.

But just for a moment, a strand of a singular moment, he had his brother in his arms again and he was back home. His first real home.

Things weren’t perfect, as things rarely are but it didn’t matter. Because part of the beauty of life is how it builds and breaks us in a cycle of love and loss.

And that night they laughed with a lightness and joy none of them had fully been able to hold onto in years.

 I hope you guys enjoyed!

This is lowkey totally gonna be the au I go to when I don’t know what to write lol, maybe write a bit of what happens afterwards or a part of everything during the year he lived with Mari them or just y’know shenanigans

[hurt-care]

The Reunion - WW2 era fic

I've been listening to an audiobook about WWII in the UK and there's been multiple mentions of people writing in their diaries about suffering from lengthy colds as well as a discussion of the increase in casual sex during the war (especially during air raids, when it became a welcome distraction). So, let's just say I was inspired...! 

Male, cold, OCs, contains 18+ content

The Reunion -

The club was positively bursting with young revellers and the sounds of a jazz band playing as couples moved across the dance floor in tight embraces, flitting in and out of shadow of the chandeliers sparkling overhead. Champagne flowed liberally, delivered by waiters in smart tuxedo jackets and white gloves. If a time-traveller had been magically transported inside, they would have no idea that outside the walls of the club there was a war on.

Making her way through the throngs of people was Katherine Marsh, or Kat to her close friends. Close at her heels was Mary Alderman, an old school chum who'd come up through London society with her. The girls wove through the dancers on route to a table up on the balcony that circled the dance floor, providing a spectacular view of the room below. Only the uppers of society generally occupied the tables here and the demand was such that often bribes had to be given to the head waiter to ensure a spot. Peter Halford, one of Kat's other longtime friends, had been in charge of the evening's transaction and now he waved cheerily from a spot in the corner as the girls approached.

“Hello, Peter!” Kat said joyfully as she sided into a chair along the wall, tucking the skirt of her silk gown around her. “Have you ordered a bottle yet or shall I do the honours?”

“It's just coming now,” Peter replied, nodding towards the approaching waiter who carried a magnum size bottle in a silver ice bucket while another waiter followed behind deftly balancing a tray of champagne coupes.

“Your timing is impeccable as ever,” Mary said with a laugh. “I'm parched.”

She flashed a smile at Peter, her eyes sparkling in the light of the crystal scones along the walls. Kat smirked knowingly at her friend. Mary had been pursuing Peter over the course of several of these evenings out on the town, but Peter remained seemingly oblivious to her advances.

Tonight, Mary was draped in layers of royal blue silk with a spectacular diamond bracelet glinting on her wrist. She looked radiant and Kat thought Peter had to be completely daft to not notice. Kat, on the other hand, had no particular beau in mind. She'd danced with dozens of men and dined at parties across the countryside around London, but no one gentleman had captured her heart. Besides, she was barely twenty and so many of the young men her age were away at service. For now, she was content with dancing and snogging sessions in dim alleyway with soldiers on leave and officers posted to city stations.

The waiter poured them all glasses of champagne and the trio toasted to health, happiness, and the victory of Britain. The chat was light and merry, with Peter filling them in on his new job at the Royal Airforce's London offices near Whitehall. At the hour neared eleven, someone took to the microphone to introduce the next band complete with a line of cabaret dancers dressed in feathers and sequins for entertainment. Mary squealed in delight as the drums kicked up the beat of a popular dance tune and she reached for Peter's hand.

“Oh, will you dance?” she asked breathlessly. “I love this song.”

Peter downed the last of his champagne glass as he stood up.

“Of course. Kat, find yourself a man and let's go.”

The two disappeared into a sea of people moving towards stairs that led to the dance floor. Kat drained her own coupe and stood, surveying the crowded tables for familiar faces or handsome strangers.

A few girls were lingering at a table of Naval officers and as the men stood and paired off with them, one man remained seated alone with a cigarette in his hand. As the duos passed by, Kat realized with a heart-dropping thud that she recognized the lone officer that had stayed behind.

Oliver Hartnett had danced with her at her first debutant ball when she was seventeen and she'd been completely enraptured by him. Two pages of her diary were dedicated to extolling his virtues, from the gentle tambour of his voice to his green eyes, from to his broad shoulders to his chestnut hair. As quickly as he'd come into her life, he'd left it again. They'd shared two dances that night and some brief conversation at a dinner party a week later, and then she hadn't seen him since. Word in the upper circles said he'd gone to Scotland to work for an aging uncle's business and he disappeared from London's upper crust.

Kat dumped the dregs of the champagne bottle into her coupe and gulped it down, feeling the rush of bubbles to her head as she bolstered her courage. She reached into her small handbag for her compact, inspecting her face and reapplying a coat of her precious lipstick, as the bright red shade was now nearly impossible to find with the war rations and so she reserved it for nights out alone.

With a smile on her face that she hoped concealed her nerves, she glided as confidently as she could over to the table.

“Ollie Hartnett, is that you?” she said over the din of the music and the crowd. The man at the table seemed startled by the interruption and he looked up at her, his face vacant for a moment. Then, a grin spread across his face.

“Oh my goodness, Miss Marsh,” he said, standing suddenly and extending his hand.

She laughed.

“It's Kat, please,” she said, taking his broad hand in her and shaking it. “Do you mind if I sit?”

“Of course, please do,” he said, fumbling to get around the vacant chairs nearby in order to pull out one for her. She folded herself gracefully into the seat, crossing her ankles as her mother had always instructed. For once, she was glad she'd listened to Mary's constant chatter about fashion and had worn the deep emerald green silk gown with the black trim that she'd purchased for the previous winter's New Year Eve celebration at Mary's family estate. It set off her figure nicely and contrasted with her auburn hair and milk-white complexion.

Oliver was shaking her head, still grinning.

“What a surprise,” he said, his gentle voice barely audible over the music. “You look well.”

She smiled back.

“I am! Well, as well as anyone is in London at war, I suppose. You've joined up, I see. On leave?”

“For a few more weeks,” he replied, taking a slow drag of his almost burnt-out cigarette. “I'm posted at Brighton, usually.”

“And you're not on the arms of a dozen girls dancing your night away?” she teased.

He snubbed out the cigarette in the ash tray and shook his head.

“Honestly, I wasn't keen on going out at all but the other gents insisted.”

“If I recall, you were quite popular on the dance floor,” she continued. “What's changed?”

“Just a bit under the weather, that's all,” he replied. “Haven't felt up to much dancing tonight, but I'll spare one for you, for old time's sake.”

She felt herself blush.

“Not yet,” she said. “I have to hear all about where you disappeared to that summer. You left a lot of us wondering why one of our dashing debs up and left London at the height of the season.”

“It's not a particularly exciting story, but if I'm going to tell it we ought to do it over a drink.”

He beckoned to a waiter who returned shortly with two cocktails on a black lacquered tray and a serving of peach melba for each of them.

Oliver detailed how the rumours were true; he'd left London for the banal task of running the business operations for his uncle's small factory in Glasgow. A year ago, as the ferocity of the war had begun to increase, he'd enlisted in Royal Navy and left the factory in the hands of the old foreman and his cousin, a savvy young woman named Rose.

More than once during the story he'd paused momentarily to clear his throat with a cough or take a sip of his cocktail to revive his waining voice. Kat felt a pang of sympathy now that she was close and could see clearly the weariness in his face. Though it was spring, the weather had been dreadful and frigid for weeks and many people she knew had been battling heavy colds.

She told him about her adventures in London with Mary and Peter, and about her volunteering posting with the Women's Auxiliary Service where she worked to find temporary housing for those displaced by air raids.

When they'd finished their peach melbas and cocktails, the band struck up a lively tune and Oliver appeared to summon some energy with a broad smile aimed at Kat.

“This is the one,” he said, extending a hand. “Would you like to dance?”

She nodded, trying not to let her rush of enthusiasm show too greatly.

He led her down to the dance floor and took her into his arms, leading the gentle sway as they danced among the other couples. His broad hand rested on the small of her back and Kat felt a rush of heat to her body as they touched, cheeks almost against one another. The gentle warmth of his breath tickled her neck and she was sure he was about to lean in to kiss her there.

His voice mumbled something deep and low into her ear but she couldn't discern it over the music.

“Mmm?” she replied.

“Oh Christ, sorry,” she heard him say and suddenly he was moving swiftly away from her, his one hand leaving her back and his other dropping its grip from hers.

Eh-TSGHT! He turned his face into the sleeve of his officer's uniform, sneezing inaudibly to her as the rest of the dance floor continued their rhythmic sway.

“So sorry,” he shouted, leaning back so she could hear him. He reached into his pants pocket for a handkerchief, which he dabbled briefly under his nose.

“Sorry,” he repeated as he took up his embrace once more.

“It's okay,” she said into his ear. “I hope you don't feel too poorly.”

“No,” he said into hers, his lips almost brushing against her. “Better now.”

She leaned herself closer against him and he pressed his lips to her neck. She sighed with delight, feeling all the rush of emotions that she'd had when they'd first danced. His body was more muscular and square now, without the lanky lines he'd had as an eighteen year old.

Tilting her head upwards, she met his lips and they kissed briefly.

He leaned over to speak into her ear again.

“I hope I'm not catching.”

“I don't care,” she said and captured his lips again. The kiss deepened and a couple nearby sided away to give them a moment of privacy.

The song ended and Katherine stayed in the embrace of Oliver's arms as the next began.

He looked down at her with a soft, tired expression.

“I'm dreadfully sorry, but I'm afraid all this noise and such is too much for me tonight.”

“Can you stay up a little longer?” she asked. “There's a nice restaurant not too far from here. We could go and have a drink there and talk. It's much quieter.”

It was past midnight now and while Oliver looked like he might consider declining in favour of being tucked up in bed, he nodded and smiled.

She grinned back at him and kissed his cheek.

“I'm so glad. I'll find my friends to tell them I'm off. Meet me by the doors? Would you be a dear and get my coat for me?”

She fished the small coatcheck tag from her handbag.

After she'd shouted her goodbyes to Mary and Peter (who looked very cozy together on the dance floor, she noted with pleasure), she found Oliver leaning against a wall by the exit with her coat over his arm and his own Navy-issued wool peacoat already on. He held up her coat to help her into it and offered his arm to her, walking at her side out into the cool spring night.

The air was clear and crisp, with a half-moon overhead. The streets were brutally dark thanks to the blackout and they made their way clumsily along the road, squinting to see landmarks in the dim moonlight.

“It's down to the left, one more block,” she said as they passed the entrance to another dance club where the only light came from several cigarettes that glowed as young people poured in and out from the doors and slipped behind blackout curtains into the well-lit hall.

“Can we pause a moment,” Oliver asked. “Sorry, just a moment.”

She stopped, turning to look at him.

“Sorry,” he repeated, reaching for his handkerchief. She could see him silhouetted in the dim moonlight as his shoulders trembled and he shook his head for a moment. Then, with a deep breath, he pitched forward with a wrenching sneeze.

Hurhhh-TSGHXTT!

Unable to mask the sound, he gave a brief but noisy blow into the handkerchief afterwards before hastily tucking it into his coat pocket.

“I'm so sorry,” he said, taking her arm up again. She gave him a light squeeze, leaning against his side as she did so.

“Don't apologize,” she said. “I'm only sorry to hear you so poorly. Blasted cold seems to be going around everywhere.”

“The boys in my unit said that if I can't spend a night out with a head cold, there's no way I'd last through a month at sea battling the Germans,” said Oliver, his voice a little hoarse. He cleared his throat with a cough. “I suppose that's true.”

“Well, we'll find you something warm to drink at the restaurant and that should revive you,” Kat said cheerfully.

They were just rounding the last corner onto the street where the restaurant was located when a sound split the air. The wail of the air raid sirens began their raised pitch, increasing to a loud din of pulsing noise.

They paused in the street, stunned. It shouldn't have been entirely a surprise; the sirens were a regular occurrence in the city but neither one of them had encountered the alert while out on the street.

In the darkness, a voice shouted authoritatively.

“To your shelters, please! Nearest public shelter is the Piccadilly Circus station. To your shelters please!”

The figure of an air raid warden with a metal helmet on passed by.

“Which way is Piccadilly?” Oliver asked.

Kat glanced up and down the dark street.

“My rooms are only two or so more blocks past here,” she said. “If we hurry, we should be fine. There's a cellar in the back.”

Gripping his arm tightly, she led the way down the road. Several times they nearly collided with others making their way to safety. As they neared the house where she rented lodgings, the sky began to shine with searchlights and in the distance, the sound of anti-aircraft guns began to crackle. The bliss of dancing and the haze of champagne cleared from Kat's head as she steered them down an alley between some homes and to a metal hatch that covered the entrance to the cellar. She tugged it open and hovered a foot over the void, finding the top step.

“Six steps down. Pull the door shut behind you,” she said to Oliver. Her hand trailed along the earthen edge of the wall until it met the edge of a candlestick and a pack of matches. She struck one alight as Oliver shut the hatch with a loud bang.

The tiny chamber glowed in the candlelight, illuminating the stone and soil room. Oliver was breathing heavily, almost wheezing. Katherine tipped the lit candle to light others, gradually brightening the room enough to see without too much strain.

“Sit,” she insisted, gesturing to a small crate topped with a cushion. “Catch your breath. I'll put some tea on.”

Hhh-TSGHHH!

The sound of the sneeze startled her and she looked over in time to see Oliver building up to a second. He tipped forward, nose nestling into the folds of his waiting handkerchief.

Ehhh—hhehhTSXHHT! “Bless you!” she said earnestly. “Are you warm enough? There's plenty of blankets. My landlady, Mrs. Beecher, is up north visiting her sister and the other girl who rents rooms is at her family home for the week. So it's just you and me here unless we get some surprise guests from next door.”

“No, I'm fine,” he said quietly, wiping his nose. “Sorry.”

“I don't mind a bit of sniffling,” she said teasingly. “You don't need to keep apologizing.”

“Have you had to spend many nights down here?” he asked, surveying the cellar. It was appointed with provisions for the three woman who lived above plus extras for any visitors who might end up sheltering there. Two wooden bunks were stacked against one wall, each with pillows and blankets and thin mattresses. Another mattress was rolled and stored in a nearby trunk with additional linens. A small table held a kettle on a fuel-powered heater and several teacups. There was a deck of cards, a basket of knitting, and a lidded chamberpot. Someone had cheekily hung a framed piece of embroidery that read “Home Sweet Home.”

“Oh, I've lost count,” Kat said as she set the kettle to boil once she'd filled it with water from one of the three large canteens by the steps that led outside. “This is only the second time I've ended up down here in an evening gown, though.”

Once the kettle was heating, she opened a chest and took out a wool jumper and a pair of socks.

“Good thing I'm prepared,” she added.

Oliver watched as she sat on a wooden chair and unstrapped her high heel shoes and slid her hand up under her gown to unclip her precious nylon stockings. Careful not to snag them, she rolled them down her legs and pulled on the socks.

He laughed as she put the jumper on over her evening gown, put her coat back on top of that, and donned a pair of Wellington rubber boots. She struck a pose for him.

“You'd be the toast of all the fashion magazines,” he declared.

His chuckle turned to a cough that sounded strained and painful. She frowned at him and shook her head.

“I'd say you should've followed your own ideas and stayed home instead of the advice of your mates,” she said. “But I have to admit I've awfully glad I ran into you.”

He recovered from the coughing spell and looked at her with affection.

“I'm glad too,” he said. She poured the hot water from the kettle into a teapot to steep and selected two teacups.

Outside, the din of the air raid sirens had ended. There was the sound of distant explosions, but for the time being they were far from the action.

“I'm afraid I've no milk to offer but we have a bit of honey.”

“That'd be lovely, thanks,” he said.

She poured them each a cup and sat opposite him, savouring the warm tea. He drank his own cup, clearly soothed by the hot liquid. He dabbed at his nose a few times with his handkerchief as it began to run from the warmth.

When the cups were empty, they sat in silence for a moment. A bomb exploded somewhere a few blocks away and the candles flickered as the shockwave trembled through the earth. The remaining teacups on the table rattled against each other. Kat closed her eyes for a moment, sighing.

“Are you frightened?” Oliver asked.

“No, I don't think so,” she said. “I suppose I always am, a little. But not terribly.”

She set her teacup down on the table and moved to sit on the bottom bunk bed, patting the mattress beside her. He stood and moved to her side. The next thing she knew, they were kissing, his hands were in her hair and she had a hand on his chest. She kicked off the boots and pulled up her dress so she could sit astride his lap. He kissed down her neck and tugged her coat off, his hand going under her jumper and stroking her breasts through the silk of her gown.

She exhaled with pleasure, starting to slowly grind against his hips. She reached for the waistband of his trousers and he helped her with his belt. He made a soft moaning noise as she fumbled with the buttons at his fly and found her way downwards. His lips brushed her shoulder, pressing kisses where the neck of her jumper was stretched to the side. A brief cough escaped him, puffing against her skin. He muttered an apology and she murmured a sweet assurance as she began to stroke him.

“Wait,” he said breathlessly. He pulled her arms upwards and guided the jumper off over her head. She pushed his coat off him and made quick work of the buttons of his shirt, tugging that off too. He urgently shed his shoes and trousers as she stood and slipped off the silk gown revealing a satin bra and knickers with mother-of-pearl buttons.

He watched her hungrily as she slid out of the knickers and climbed back onto the mattress, guiding his pants off his hips. They kissed tenderly and she settled down on top of him, hips rising to meet hips. He made that same low moaning noise and she felt her body jolt with pleasure, hands roaming through his chestnut curls.

He made love to her urgently as the sound of bombs echoed outside. They moved together, breath increasing to gasps. His nose was running freely and he briefly sniffled and pressed it against his own shoulder to rub it. She kissed his neck and felt the expanse of his chest press against hers as he took a sharp breath. His body shuddered under her as he sneezed a restrained outburst, clearly trying to keep the explosion minimal.

Ngh-GHXT!

She moaned involuntarily as the spasm thrust him against her.

“Fuck,” he groaned under his breath. “Sorry.”

“Please,” she gasped. “Oliver!”

He sniffled thickly and then resumed with vigour until they both lay panting and shivering on the bed. He looked utterly exhausted but there was a smile on his lips. She leaned over and kissed his cheek.

“You sweet thing,” she whispered. “As if you weren't exhausted at the start of the evening.”

She slipped out of the bed with a blanket around her shoulders and found his shirt and socks and underthings on the ground.

“Best put at least your socks on before you drop off entirely,” she said tenderly, helping him dress before they both slipped under the quilts again.

She woke at some ungodly hour to the sound of nose-blowing and the roar of the 'all clear' siren. From feel, she could tell Ollie was sitting up in bed, straining to clear his nose with his sodden handkerchief. It was pitch black in the shelter and she had no idea how long they'd been asleep.

She managed to find the matches and lit a candle. Oliver sounded dreadfully congested and by the dim light of the single candle, she could see his nose was red and angry-looking at the edges.

“Oh, love,” she said, leaving the candle on the bedside table and climbing back under the quilts next to him. “How do you feel?”

He exhaled noisily.

“Rather poorly, I'm afraid,” he said hoarsely. “I hope for your sake it's not catching.”

She squinted at the wristwatch she kept wrapped on the bedpost. It was half-past four.

“It's still early but there's the all-clear. Do you want to get rugged up in my bed upstairs or stay here.”

He folded the handkerchief and tucked it at his side, snuggling back down beside her.

“That answers that,” she said, tucking his head against her breast. She stroked his hair and planted a kiss there. “Try to get some more rest, darling. I'll take good care of you.”

[lettheladylead]

first trip

ships/characters: Pepper, Phantom Blot, Bradford, Pepper/Blot words: ~1200 summary: Pepper muses about F.O.W.L. before going on her first big assignment with The Phantom Blot. ao3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27708827

full fic under the cut:

It’d been a long time since she’d had a real job.

Though the newspaper ad she responded to was a bit misleading, Pepper didn’t mind the work. She did everything she was asked to do with no questions asked, just as Director Buzzard demanded. And for her loyal service, she made twenty dollars an hour and got health insurance! If her yaya was still alive, she’d be so proud. Or maybe she wouldn’t. But she’d be impressed, at least!

The costumes were a bit odd, and getting all of her giant curls under that helmet was definitely a struggle at first, but at least the colors were flattering! And she liked feeling like such a unified team. It wasn’t her first time wearing a uniform, either - and these were much better than the little hats they wore at Hamburger Hippo.

She also got along great with everyone! The other Eggheads didn’t have as much to talk about as she did, but they didn’t seem to mind when she couldn’t stop talking. Or, well, they didn’t seem to mind too badly. Occasionally she’d start rambling and when she opened her eyes, everyone was gone. But that was only every once in a while!

It was on one of the days that she repeatedly reminded herself to listen, don’t talk that she noticed how all of the other Eggheads seemed very concerned about one of the higher ranking members of F.O.W.L.:

The Phantom Blot.

They were complaining about how creepy and intense he was - how he was always grumbling things in another language and blasting holes in the walls of his office and having random bursts of anger. Pedro swore one time he was cleaning near his office and suddenly he just heard loud crying out of nowhere. Keisha said he had an entire drawer filled with weird childish drawings of a dog family. Alabio said he was confident that the guy did not eat or shower or ever take off his cloak - but he didn’t stink up the place, so Pepper thought that one probably wasn’t true.

She didn’t have any problems with Mr. Blot. He was very intense, and a little bit scary, but she didn’t mind. Her life was filled with intense people! In her experience, they had good reason to be like that. And if people were hearing him burst into tears and collect weird, sad drawings, he probably had very, very good reason.

Besides - she had health insurance! How could she complain about her work with benefits like that? A loud, scary superior was nothing compared to the fear of getting sick while uninsured.

It was that attitude that led her directly to Director Buzzard’s office when he announced that he needed a recruit to travel with Phantom Blot on a special mission to Scotland. Scotland! She’d never even been out of the country before! And not a single other Egghead moved a muscle, so Pepper proudly stood up and made her way down the hall.

When she opened the door to the director’s office, she saluted as Black Heron exited with a sway of her hips and a wink behind her. Director Buzzard grumbled and Pepper didn’t move her arm as she walked the rest of the way inside.

“What do you need?”

She continued to salute and smiled. “I’d be happy to accompany Mr. Blot on his mission, Sir!”

“Really?” The director shuffled some papers around. “Good. What’s your name, again?”

“Pepper, Sir!”

Bradford leaned over to squint at his laptop screen and did some quick typing and clicking before looking back at her. “Alright, you’re all set. Go to Blot’s office and let him know - he’s planning to leave in about an hour.”

“Yes, Sir, Director, Sir!”

He grunted and waved her out the door, immediately going back to filling out the paperwork on his desk.

Pepper held back a squeal of excitement as she exited the room and did a perfect cartwheel as she made her way to Mr. Blot’s office. He was probably going to be really excited about having a partner! No one ever volunteered to work with him if they could help it, not even for shorter assignments, so an international field trip with a new buddy was definitely going to make him happy!

----

He was not happy, Pepper noticed. He actually seemed pretty annoyed that she was in his space.

But it was her job to help him out! She wasn’t just assigned to work with him, she wanted to! Wanted to learn more about him and his goals and the righteous justice of destroying evil witches!

(She knew most members of F.O.W.L. didn’t have righteous justice in mind when it came to their life goals - in fact, some of them were definitely supervillains. But Pepper didn’t mind that, either, especially not with her track record. With all the candy bars she’d stolen in her life, how could she possibly judge them?)

“Don’t touch anything!” Blot grumbled at her while tinkering with his giant fancy glove thingy.

“Yes, Sir!” Pepper said with another salute as she leaned back on the balls of her feet and whistled quietly. She didn’t have anything to pack or anywhere else to be, so she’d stay right there and help Mr. Blot get ready. Anything he asked of her, she’d get it done!

Two minutes passed and he had yet to ask for anything. Another five minutes and the only thing he asked for was “peace and quiet” so she stopped her whistling and started looking around the room instead.

There were definitely scratches and holes in the walls - the other Eggheads didn’t lie about that. Other than that, his walls were lined with photos and drawings of Magica De Spell - the evil witch he’d sworn vengeance against. Pepper didn’t know his history with De Spell, but everyone knew her work and all the trouble she’d caused in Duckburg back in the day. Though she’d disappeared for twenty years or so, her grand return was very destructive and everyone in town had the displeasure of dealing with her magic.

He also had tons of books and scrolls related to anti-magic - a concept Pepper had never thought about before. But it was really neat! She didn’t care much for magic, it definitely created more mess than it helped, so she was happy to contribute to whatever was happening.

Mr. Blot opened one of his desk drawers and shuffled through the mess of papers - Pepper paid close attention to what she could see and she could clearly make out some crude pencil drawings that looked like they were made by a child. Keisha was telling the truth! Well, either that, or Mr. Blot was very bad at drawing. Pepper was pretty bad at it herself so she didn’t want to assume.

After another minute, he stood up and Pepper strained her neck to keep her eyes on his as he towered over her. She gave him a big, toothy grin and clasped her hands together behind her back.

“Ready to go, Mr. Blot, Sir?”

He sighed deeply and clenched his gloved hand into a fist. “Yes. Let’s go destroy Castle McDuck. ”

[cheekytorah]

There was only one bed!!!!!

Hey beauty!

I adore you! This is for you ❤️

~•~•~•~•~

Remus sighs as he drops his bag in the entrance of the hotel, stripping his drenched outerwear from his body. Peeling it off more like, and the thin Jean stuck to his skin and the tuque dripped like an overfilled sponge. He feels and likely looks like a drowned rat.

Sighing again, he looks out into the foggy dim evening, wondering where Sorius went to park the car. He’ll be worse off when he finally makes it to the front desk for them to check in. Remus straightens his back and makes his way to the clerk, hoping he can get them signed in without delay. It wouldn’t be an issue if not for the fact that both their rooms are in Sirius’ name and Remus is mostly certainly not of the Black family.

Everyone and their brother knows the Black family, knows their lineage, knows their looks, and Remus, the half blood he is, looks nothing like a pureblood wizard. He gives the man a crooked grin, running his fingers through his dropping hair.

“Hello, mate.”

“Sir,” the man gives him an appraising once over. “I assume you are checking in?”

“Yes we have a couple rooms, under Black, Sirius Black that is.”

Sirius is a war hero these days, his name opens doors and despite his money people give him things free just to say Sirius Black wore or used their products or services. And though Remus had walked side by side through the war with Sirius, he was not so lucky. He was outed as a werewolf, his name dragged through the mud in every Wizarding gossip column in northern Scotland all the way to England.

The man gives Remus a sultry look, accompanied with a wink before he starts flicking his wrist, papers fluttering as magic searched for their reservation.

“Here with a...friend?” The man asks and had Remus not been horribly, irrevocably in love with his best mate, he might have taken him up on his obvious interest. As it stands, he would if he were not with said best friend on the yearly trip they take since the war ended.

“Yes, but I’m only here till the morning.”

“Plenty can happen in one night,” the man says suggestively and Remus flushes.

“I’m sure you have plenty of work to be done.”

Sirius’ curt tone cuts through the flirty atmosphere and Remus startles, unsure how long his friend had been standing just behind him.

“Right yes, ah here is your reservation.” The man pauses as he reads the paperwork then dashes towards where the keys and mail cubby’s are for each room.

When he returns, his face is pale and apologetic.

“I’m so sorry Mr Black, sir. There has been a major issue with rooms and it seems we only have one room on file for the two of you.”

“That’s fine, we can make do with double queens.”

“No, sir, let me clarify. It’s one room with one double.”

Remus groans, and rubs his temples. He can feel a headache coming on, the symptoms of the full moon in a week's time hitting him harder because of the rain. He grabs the keys from the clerks hand — what was his name again? Had he even asked? — and storms off towards the room, sirius on his heels.

When he lets them into the room he locks himself into the bathroom, and practically falls into the shower to wash the day away. Long hours in a cramped car did nothing for his aching joints and now he is stuck in a small bed with the secret love of his life. Bloody brilliant.

Three solid hours later, After a game of exploding snap, room service dinner and an extra half hour avoiding that awkwardness of the bed, remus drags himself into the bed and covers himself in the down-filled duvet. Not waiting for Sirius he lets himself drift off into a restless sleep.

~*~

Sometime in the night he woke up to a body pressed against him back, a soft pressure on his arse. Sirius wasn’t rutting against him, or hard, but it was suggestive enough for Remus to groan and press back involuntarily. Coming more awake, he pulls away quickly, cursing his half away state and glancing over at Sirius hoping he had not stirred.

Sirius was staring at him, a look of desire darkening his usually light grey eyes.

“Come back here.”

Remus, unable to deny Sirius black anything he wanted, shuffled back into Sirius’ arms, letting him grip Remus’ hips and press him back against Sirius’ rapidly hardening cock.

Sirius hissed and bucked forward, rutting up against Remus arse, finding the crack and pressing himself between Remus’ cheeks. Sirius’ hand slipped into the front of Remus’ sleep pants and gripped his own leaking dick.

“Fuck, Sirius.” Remus moaned, grinding himself against Sirius and thrusting into his grip over and over until both their movements because erratic and they were coming together.

They lay panting after, both staring up at the ceiling. Sirius rolled over, curling himself into Remus’ side and dropping kisses on his exposed chest. They drifted off to sleep at some point, knowing that tomorrow they’d have to talk but for now enjoying the new planes of their relationship.

[tipsycad147]

Samlesbury witches

The Samlesbury witches were three women from the Lancashire village of Samlesbury – Jane Southworth, Jennet Bierley, and Ellen Bierley – accused by a 14-year-old girl, Grace Sowerbutts, of practising witchcraft. Their trial at Lancaster Assizes in England on 19 August 1612 was one in a series of witch trials held there over two days, among the most famous in English history. The trials were unusual for England at that time in two respects: Thomas Potts, the clerk to the court, published the proceedings in his The Wonderfull Discoverie of Witches in the Countie of Lancaster; and the number of the accused found guilty and hanged was unusually high, ten at Lancaster and another at York. All three of the Samlesbury women were acquitted.

The charges against the women included child murder and cannibalism. In contrast, the others tried at the same assizes, who included the Pendle witches, were accused of maleficium – causing harm by witchcraft.[4] The case against the three women collapsed "spectacularly" when the chief prosecution witness, Grace Sowerbutts, was exposed by the trial judge to be "the perjuring tool of a Catholic priest"

Many historians, notably Hugh Trevor-Roper, have suggested that the witch trials of the 16th and 17th centuries were a consequence of the religious struggles of the period, with both the Catholic and Protestant Churches determined to stamp out what they regarded as heresy. The trial of the Samlesbury witches is perhaps one clear example of that trend; it has been described as "largely a piece of anti-Catholic propaganda", and even as a show-trial, to demonstrate that Lancashire, considered at that time to be a wild and lawless region, was being purged not only of witches but also of "popish plotters" (i.e., recusant Catholics).

Background

King James I, who came to the English throne from Scotland in 1603, had a keen interest in witchcraft. By the early 1590s, he was convinced that Scottish witches were plotting against him. His 1597 book, Daemonologie, instructed his followers that they must denounce and prosecute any supporters or practitioners of witchcraft. In 1604, the year following James's accession to the English throne, a new witchcraft law was enacted, "An Act against Conjuration, Witchcraft and dealing with evil and wicked spirits", imposing the death penalty for causing harm by the use of magic or the exhumation of corpses for magical purposes. James was, however, sceptical of the evidence presented in witch trials, even to the extent of personally exposing discrepancies in the testimonies presented against some accused witches.

The accused witches lived in Lancashire, an English county which, at the end of the 16th century, was regarded by the authorities as a wild and lawless region, "fabled for its theft, violence and sexual laxity, where the church was honoured without much understanding of its doctrines by the common people". Since the death of Queen Mary and the accession to the throne of her half-sister Elizabeth in 1558, Catholic priests had been forced into hiding, but in remote areas like Lancashire they continued to celebrate mass in secret. In early 1612, the year of the trials, each justice of the peace (JP) in Lancashire was ordered to compile a list of the recusants in their area – those who refused to attend the services of the Church of England, a criminal offence at that time

Samlesbury Hall, family home of the Southworths.

Southworth family

The 16th-century English Reformation, during which the Church of England broke away from the authority of the pope and the Catholic Church, split the Southworth family of Samlesbury Hall. Sir John Southworth, head of the family, was a leading recusant who had been arrested several times for refusing to abandon his Catholic faith. His eldest son, also called John, did convert to the Church of England, for which he was disinherited, but the rest of the family remained staunchly Catholic

One of the accused witches, Jane Southworth, was the widow of the disinherited son, John. Relations between John and his father do not seem to have been amicable; according to a statement made by John Singleton, in which he referred to Sir John as his "old Master", Sir John refused even to pass his son's house if he could avoid it, and believed that Jane would probably kill her husband. Jane Southworth (née Sherburne) and John were married in about 1598, and the couple lived in Samlesbury Lower Hall. Jane had been widowed only a few months before her trial for witchcraft in 1612, and had seven children.

Investigations

On 21 March 1612, Alizon Device, who lived just outside the Lancashire village of Fence, near Pendle Hill, encountered John Law, a pedlar from Halifax. She asked him for some pins, which he refused to give to her, and a few minutes later Law suffered a stroke, for which he blamed Alizon. Along with her mother Elizabeth and her brother James, Alizon was summoned to appear before local magistrate Roger Nowell on 30 March 1612. Based on the evidence and confessions he obtained, Nowell committed Alizon and ten others to Lancaster Gaol to be tried at the next assizes for maleficium, causing harm by witchcraft.

Other Lancashire magistrates learned of Nowell's discovery of witchcraft in the county, and on 15 April 1612 JP Robert Holden began investigations in his own area of Samlesbury. As a result, eight individuals were committed to Lancaster Assizes, three of whom – Jane Southworth, Jennet Bierley, and Ellen Bierley – were accused of practising witchcraft on Grace Sowerbutts, Jennet's granddaughter and Ellen's niece

Trial

The trial was held on 19 August 1612 before Sir Edward Bromley, a judge seeking promotion to a circuit nearer London, and who might therefore have been keen to impress King James, the head of the judiciary. Before the trial began, Bromley ordered the release of five of the eight defendants from Samlesbury, with a warning about their future conduct. The remainder – Jane Southworth, Jennet Bierley, and Ellen Bierley – were accused of using "diverse devillish and wicked Arts, called Witchcrafts, Inchauntments, Charmes, and Sorceries, in and upon one Grace Sowerbutts", to which they pleaded not guilty. Fourteen-year-old Grace was the chief prosecution witness.

Grace was the first to give evidence. In her statement she claimed that both her grandmother and aunt, Jennet and Ellen Bierley, were able to transform themselves into dogs and that they had "haunted and vexed her" for years She further alleged that they had transported her to the top of a hayrick by her hair, and on another occasion had tried to persuade her to drown herself. According to Grace, her relatives had taken her to the house of Thomas Walshman and his wife, from whom they had stolen a baby to suck its blood. Grace claimed that the child died the following night, and that after its burial at Samlesbury Church Ellen and Jennet dug up the body and took it home, where they cooked and ate some of it and used the rest to make an ointment that enabled them to change themselves into other shapes

Grace also alleged that her grandmother and aunt, with Jane Southworth, attended sabbats held every Thursday and Sunday night at Red Bank, on the north shore of the River Ribble. At those secret meetings they met with "foure black things, going upright, and yet not like men in the face", with whom they ate, danced, and had sex.

Thomas Walshman, the father of the baby allegedly killed and eaten by the accused, was the next to give evidence. He confirmed that his child had died of unknown causes at about one year old. He added that Grace Sowerbutts was discovered lying as if dead in his father's barn on about 15 April, and did not recover until the following day. Two other witnesses, John Singleton and William Alker, confirmed that Sir John Southworth, Jane Southworth's father-in-law, had been reluctant to pass the house where his son lived, as he believed Jane to be an "evil woman, and a Witch

Examinations

Thomas Potts, the clerk to the Lancaster Assizes, records that after hearing the evidence many of those in court were persuaded of the accused's guilt. On being asked by the judge what answer they could make to the charges laid against them, Potts reports that they "humbly fell upon their knees with weeping teares", and "desired him [Bromley] for Gods cause to examine Grace Sowerbutts". Immediately "the countenance of this Grace Sowerbutts changed"; the witnesses "began to quarrel and accuse one another", and eventually admitted that Grace had been coached in her story by a Catholic priest they called Thompson. Bromley then committed the girl to be examined by two JPs, William Leigh and Edward Chisnal. Under questioning Grace readily admitted that her story was untrue, and said she had been told what to say by Jane Southworth's uncle, Christopher Southworth aka Thompson, a Jesuit priest who was in hiding in the Samlesbury area; Southworth was the chaplain at Samlesbury Hall, and Jane Southworth's uncle by marriage. Leigh and Chisnal questioned the three accused women in an attempt to discover why Southworth might have fabricated evidence against them, but none could offer any reason other than that each of them "goeth to the [Anglican] Church

After the statements had been read out in court Bromley ordered the jury to find the defendants not guilty, stating that:

God hath delivered you beyond expectation, I pray God you may use this mercie and favour well; and take heed you fall not hereafter: And so the court doth order that you shall be delivered.

Potts concludes his account of the trial with the words: "Thus were these poore Innocent creatures, by the great care and paines of this honourable Judge, delivered from the danger of this Conspiracie; this bloudie practise of the Priest laid open"

https://www.wikiwand.com/

[butterflies-dragons]

The quote you can read in the image is from Sansa III - A Game of Thrones. Who else could be better at telling us about stories and songs than the fairy tale princess of ASOIAF?    

Well then, let’s talk about magical beasts and the true knights that do them no harm. Or, why I believe, among many other reasons, that Jon Snow is Sansa Stark’s wished/dreamed knight (*).  

A WHITE HART IN THE KINGSWOOD

(Art credit: A New King by Dani-Owergoor)

First, a bit of background about the possible inspirations GRRM has used for the very rare and magical white hart: 

‘Hart’ is an archaic word for a mature stag.   

A stag is an adult male deer.

Deer were the only animals held sacred to the Greek goddess of the hunt Artemis herself. On seeing a deer larger than a bull with horns shining, she fell in love with these creatures and held them sacred. 

The Celtic people considered them to be messengers from the otherworld.

Arthurian legend states that the creature has a perennial ability to evade capture, and that the pursuit of the animal represents mankind's spiritual quest. 

The white stag is also prevalent in Hungarian mythology; it was believed that a white stag led the brothers Hunor and Magor to Scythia, an action which preceded the formation of the Hun and Magyar people.

In a French legend, anyone who killed a white hart was cursed with the pain of unrequited love. I didn’t find a better source for this one, but in the French/German movie La Belle et la Bête (2014), the Prince killed a deer and he was transformed into a beast in punishment. 

In English Folklore, the white hart is associated with Herne the Hunter. Herne the Hunter is a ghost associated with Windsor Forest and Great Park in the English county of Berkshire.

Thanks to the legend of King David I of Scotland with a white hart, the animal became a symbol for christianity.

The White Hart was the personal badge of King Richard II of England. Richard's White Hart is recumbent and wears a gold crown as a collar, attached to a long gold chain. 

Robert Baden-Powell, founder of the Scouting movement, spoke these words about the white stag: “The White Stag has a message for you. Hunters of old pursued the miraculous stag, not because they expected to kill it, but because it led them in the joy of the chase to new and fresh adventures, and so to capture happiness.” 

The Chapter 17 of C. S. Lewis’ book The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe, is called ‘The Hunting of the White Stag’: One day, Mr. Tumnus brings them news that a magic White Stag has been seen in the woods in the West. Anyone who catches the Stag is granted wishes, so the Kings and Queens go out to hunt for him.  

As we can see, along the history, the white hart has been a sacred creature, blessed by gods, a messenger between worlds, an emblem for kings, a symbol for religions, and the guide of humanity in the greatest quests.

Now, let’s analyze its meaning inside the ASOIAF world. 

A war galley of the royal fleet in service to the Iron Throne was called the White Hart. 

During the events of A Game of Thrones, a white hart appeared in the kingswood and Robert Baratheon wanted to hunt it:   

A white hart had been sighted in the kingswood, and Lord Renly and Ser Barristan had joined the king to hunt it, along with Prince Joffrey, Sandor Clegane, Balon Swann, and half the court. So Ned must needs sit the Iron Throne in his absence.

—A Game of Thrones - Eddard XI

The Baratheon sigil is a crowned black stag on a field of gold, so basically, King Robert wanted to hunt the rare white magical version of the animal symbol of his House. Robert Baratheon and his hunting crew, Joffrey included, are not true knight material.

After a time living in Kings Landing and knowing her betrothed a bit better,  Sansa knew that Joffrey was not true knight material; deep down she knew about his killing/harming tendencies, yet she tried to accommodate Joff as someone that, at least, would never harm/kill innocent people:   

“I had a dream that Joffrey would be the one to take the white hart,” she said. It had been more of a wish, actually, but it sounded better to call it a dream. Everyone knew that dreams were prophetic. White harts were supposed to be very rare and magical, and in her heart she knew her gallant prince was worthier than his drunken father.

“A dream? Truly? Did Prince Joffrey just go up to it and touch it with his bare hand and do it no harm?”

“No,” Sansa said. “He shot it with a golden arrow and brought it back for me.” In the songs, the knights never killed magical beasts, they just went up to them and touched them and did them no harm, but she knew Joffrey liked hunting, especially the killing part. Only animals, though. Sansa was certain her prince had no part in murdering Jory and those other poor men; that had been his wicked uncle, the Kingslayer. She knew her father was still angry about that, but it wasn’t fair to blame Joff. That would be like blaming her for something that Arya had done.

—A Game of Thrones - Sansa III

But even knowing that Joffrey likes the killing part of hunting, Sansa doesn’t use the word “kill” at all. She says: “Joffrey would be the one to take the white hart” / “her gallant prince was worthier than his drunken father.” / “He shot it with a golden arrow and brought it back for me.” As if she was trying to say that Joffrey only captured the magical beast to bring it back for her, as a gift. Not its skin for a cloak, not its meat for a feast, but the rare animal itself would be the gift. And at this, I can only think that Sansa was remembering her late Lady. I will expand on this point later.      

As you can see, Sansa elaborates a new song about Joffrey, her gallant prince, shooting the white hart with a golden arrow and bringing the magical beast back for her, as a gift. Now, the presence of the white hart and the addition of the golden arrow in Sansa’s retelling of the old songs, make me think about Artemis and her presence in a lot of fairy tales.

As I mentioned before, deer were the only animals held sacred to Artemis herself. And, another symbols of the Greek goddess are her bow and arrows, that happen to be golden. That’s why I think Sansa, in her innocence, imagines her prince shooting the white hart with a golden arrow, because the magic weapon from the gods themselves could wound the beast without killing it, allowing its capture saving Joffrey of punishment for the transgression of hunting a sacred animal.  And I also think that GRRM has used Artemis and the legends around her in the events that followed the appearance of the white hart.            

This version of Joffrey shooting the white hart with a golden arrow sounds pretty similar to the depiction of the Prince in the 2014 Franco-German film “La Belle et la Bête”:

At night, Belle has a vivid dream, revealing the backstory of the Prince: he enjoys hunting, but often ignores the Princess who loves him but is lonely. The Prince is after an elusive golden deer, and when the Princess asks him to stop hunting the deer, he promises to do so if she will give him a son. (...) Belle has one final dream about how the Prince broke his promise and killed the golden deer. While dying, the deer transformed into the Princess, revealing she was the Nymph of the Forest who became human because she wanted to experience love. She begged her father, the God of the Forest, to spare the Prince from his wrath. But he transformed the Prince into a beast, changed the hunting dogs into Tadums, and his friends into statues. The God of the Forest proclaimed that only the love of a woman would break the Beast's eternal curse.

This Prince that likes hunting and the ignored and lonely Princess, also remind me, differences aside, of King Robert and Queen Cersei.  

So, if we follow the legends and songs, whoever killed the white hart would be punished by the gods. But in the end, neither Robert nor Joffrey killed the magical beast:

They found the white hart, it seems… or rather, what remained of it. Some wolves found it first, and left His Grace scarcely more than a hoof and a horn. Robert was in a fury, until he heard talk of some monstrous boar deeper in the forest. Then nothing would do but he must have it.

—A Game of Thrones - Eddard XII

In this passage, Littlefinger was updating Ned about King Robert’s hunting adventures in the kingswood.  The wording here is very telling, it’s like Littlefinger was actually telling us the truth about King Robert’s hunting and his upcoming death. 

It is possible that the white hart was only used to lure King Robert’s attention, taking him into the kingswood, lessening his protection, so the attempt of killing him would be easier.  We know that Cersei plotted to kill Robert and after his death and Ned’s rejection of vowing for Joffrey, the Starks were framed as Robert’s killers, just like Littlefinger said the wolves killed the white hart. But the lions were the real kingslayers, with the complicity of the boar.  

Again, the presence of the boar reminds me of Artemis: 

The boar is one of the favorite animals of the hunters, and also hard to tame. In honor of Artemis' skill, they sacrificed it to her. Oineus and Adonis were both killed by Artemis' boar [x].

In some versions of the story of Adonis, Artemis sent a wild boar to kill Adonis as punishment for his hubristic boast that he was a better hunter than her [x].

Since Oineus had made sacrifices yearly to all the gods during the harvest ceremonies, but had omitted to honor Artemis, in anger she sent a boar of immense size to lay waste the district of Calydon [x]. 

As you can see, King Robert’s death seems like a recreation of Adonis or King Oienus myths, with the “monstrous boar” sent to kill him as punishment for his desire to hunt the white hart.  

And please take note how very well crafted is the symbolism of King Robert’s and Ned Stark’s deaths, with the use of the animals of their sigils killing each other and how the true killers, the lions, are hidden:

A direwolf dead in the snow, a broken antler in its throat = Ned Stark’s death: 

Catelyn wished she could share his joy. But she had heard the talk in the yards; a direwolf dead in the snow, a broken antler in its throat. Dread coiled within her like a snake, but she forced herself to smile at this man she loved, this man who put no faith in signs. "I knew that would please you," she said. "We should send word to your brother on the Wall."

—A Game of Thrones - Catelyn I

Ned shook his head, refusing to believe. "Robert would never harm me or any of mine. We were closer than brothers. He loves me. If I refuse him, he will roar and curse and bluster, and in a week we will laugh about it together. I know the man!"

"You knew the man," she said. "The king is a stranger to you." Catelyn remembered the direwolf dead in the snow, the broken antler lodged deep in her throat. She had to make him see. "Pride is everything to a king, my lord. Robert came all this way to see you, to bring you these great honors, you cannot throw them back in his face."

—A Game of Thrones - Catelyn II

But Ned’s killer was a fake stag, Joffrey, who was truly a lion...

A white hart dead in the kingswood, the wolves left just a hoof and a horn = King Robert Baratheon’s death:

They found the white hart, it seems… or rather, what remained of it. Some wolves found it first, and left His Grace scarcely more than a hoof and a horn. Robert was in a fury, until he heard talk of some monstrous boar deeper in the forest. Then nothing would do but he must have it.

—A Game of Thrones - Eddard XII

But King Robert’s killers were the lions, Cersei and Lancel... 

And talking about lions, let’s go to our next magical beast:

HRAKKAR, THE WHITE LION OF THE DOTHRAKI SEA

(Art credit: White Lion and Full Moon by deskridge)

‘Hrakkar’ are a breed of white lion native to the Dothraki sea.

I’m not sure if the hrakkar is rare and magical and subject of legends like the the white hart, but it seems like its hunt and capture is important for the Dothraki: 

"This day I will go to the grass and hunt, woman wife," he announced as he shrugged into a painted vest and buckled on a wide belt with heavy medallions of silver, gold, and bronze.

"Yes, my sun-and-stars," Dany said. Drogo would take his bloodriders and ride in search of hrakkar, the great white lion of the plains. If they returned triumphant, her lord husband's joy would be fierce, and he might be willing to hear her out.

(...)

The brazier was cold again by the time Khal Drogo returned. Cohollo was leading a packhorse behind him, with the carcass of a great white lion slung across its back. Above, the stars were coming out. The khal laughed as he swung down off his stallion and showed her the scars on his leg where the hrakkar had raked him through his leggings. "I shall make you a cloak of its skin, moon of my life," he swore.

—A Game of Thrones - Daenerys VI

Then, after Drogo’s death, Dany wears the pelt of the hrakkar as a way to remember her late husband:  

Her hair had burned away in Drogo's pyre, so her handmaids garbed her in the skin of the hrakkar Drogo had slain, the white lion of the Dothraki sea. Its fearsome head made a hood to cover her naked scalp, its pelt a cloak that flowed across her shoulders and down her back. The cream-colored dragon sunk sharp black claws into the lion's mane and coiled its tail around her arm, while Ser Jorah took his accustomed place by her side.

—A Clash of Kings - Daenerys I

It was Drogo who had given her the pelt she wore, the head and hide of a hrakkar, the white lion of the Dothraki sea. It was too big for her and had a musty smell, but it made her feel as if her sun-and-stars was still near her

—A Dance with Dragons - Daenerys I

Also, during her visit to the House of the Undying, Daenerys has a series of visions, one of them was the hrakkar: 

Faster and faster the visions came, one after the other (...) A white lion ran through grass taller than a man (...)

—A Clash of Kings - Daenerys IV

I have no more to say about the hrakkar, but it’s very interesting the parallels between Robert, Cersei and the white hart, with Drogo, Daenerys and the hrakkar:

King Robert Baratheon pursued to kill the white hart. 

Khal Drogo killed the hrakkar. 

King Robert Baratheon’s wife, Cersei Lannister, willingly plotted to kill him with the help of Lancel Lannister and the fortunate intervention of a monstrous boar.  

Khal Drogo’s wife, Daenerys Targaryen, unwillingly participated in Drogo’s death by requesting Mirri Maz Duur to attend a wound in Drogo’s chest, and later, requesting that the maegi practice blood magic to save Drogo’s life. As a result, Khal Drogo got catatonic and Daenerys killed her husband smothering him with a pillow.

Cersei Lannister later framed Ned Stark as the traitor that plotted King Robert’s downfall and death. Ned Stark was beheaded for treason. 

Daenerys Targaryen later blamed Mirri Maz Duur for Drogo’s downfall and death. Mirri Maz Duur was burned alive for treason.

As I said before, it’s very interesting that King Robert and Drogo (Cersei’s and Dany’s husbands) went to hunt these beasts: the white hart and the hrakkar, and later both men died, killed by their own wives. As if the gods really punish the ones that kill or pursue to kill the magical white beasts...     

But there is a white magical beast that was found by someone that, despite not being a proper knight, embodied all those vows and acted like a true knight in a song: 

GHOST, THE ALBINO DIREWOLF

(Art credit: White Wolf by  Kay-Ra )

A PACK OF DIREWOLVES FOUND IN THE SUMMER SNOWS

As we already know, everything started with The Starks, GRRM’s favorite House:

Jen Louise says: Have you got a favourite House?

Probably the Starks. After all, it all began with the Starks.

—GRRM Empire Webchat Transcript 2012

RS: You’ve talked before about the original glimpse of the story you had for what became A Song of Ice and Fire: a spontaneous vision in your mind of a boy witnessing a beheading, then finding direwolves in the snow. That’s an interesting genesis.

GRRM: It was the summer of 1991. I was still involved in Hollywood. My agent was trying to get me meetings to pitch my ideas, but I didn’t have anything to do in May and June. It had been years since I wrote a novel. I had an idea for a science-fiction novel called Avalon. I started work on it and it was going pretty good, when suddenly it just came to me, this scene, from what would ultimately be the first chapter of A Game of Thrones. It’s from Bran’s viewpoint; they see a man beheaded and they find some direwolf pups in the snow. It just came to me so strongly and vividly that I knew I had to write it. I sat down to write, and in, like, three days it just came right out of me, almost in the form you’ve read.

—Rolling Stone 2014

The finding of the direwolves in the summer snows is a very important event of the story, part of the start point of the whole series. 

The fact that this generation of Stark kids got a direwolf for each of them is very significant and extraordinaire. The direwolves are connected to the Old Gods of the North and the Children of the Forest:

"Only one man in a thousand is born a skinchanger," Lord Brynden said one day, after Bran had learned to fly, "and only one skinchanger in a thousand can be a greenseer."

"I thought the greenseers were the wizards of the children," Bran said. "The singers, I mean."

"In a sense. Those you call the children of the forest have eyes as golden as the sun, but once in a great while one is born amongst them with eyes as red as blood, or green as the moss on a tree in the heart of the forest. By these signs do the gods mark those they have chosen to receive the gift. The chosen ones are not robust, and their quick years upon the earth are few, for every song must have its balance. But once inside the wood they linger long indeed. A thousand eyes, a hundred skins, wisdom deep as the roots of ancient trees. Greenseers."

—A Dance with Dragons - Bran III

As you can see, the eyes’s colors of the Children of the Forest match the eyes’s colors of the Stark kid’s direwolves: Grey Wind, Lady, Nymeria and Summer have golden eyes. Ghost has red eyes and Shaggydog has green eyes.

And we all know that the six Stark kids are skinchanger or wargs: 

Are all the Stark children wargs/skin changers with their wolves?

To a greater or lesser degree, yes, but the amount of control varies widely.

[Source]

Oh, George said all the Stark children of this generation were full Wargs. I thought they were like one shot Wargs and were only bonded to their wolves but no they can warg into just about anything. Bran is just the only one working on it.

[Source]

GRRM has also reminded us time after time that each of the direwolves is a part of their masters: 

They were all staring at him, but it was Sansa's look that cut. "She is of the north. She deserves better than a butcher."

He left the room with his eyes burning and his daughter's wails echoing in his ears, and found the direwolf pup where they chained her. Ned sat beside her for a while. "Lady," he said, tasting the name. He had never paid much attention to the names the children had picked, but looking at her now, he knew that Sansa had chosen well. She was the smallest of the litter, the prettiest, the most gentle and trusting. She looked at him with bright golden eyes, and he ruffled her thick grey fur.

Shortly, Jory brought him Ice.

When it was over, he said, "Choose four men and have them take the body north. Bury her at Winterfell."

"All that way?" Jory said, astonished.

"All that way," Ned affirmed. "The Lannister woman shall never have this skin."

—A Game of Thrones - Eddard III

"A hall is no place for a wolf. He gets restless, you've seen. Growling and snapping. I should never have taken him into battle with me. He's killed too many men to fear them now. Jeyne's anxious around him, and he terrifies her mother."

And there's the heart of it, Catelyn thought. "He is part of you, Robb. To fear him is to fear you."

"I am not a wolf, no matter what they call me." Robb sounded cross. "Grey Wind killed a man at the Crag, another at Ashemark, and six or seven at Oxcross. If you had seen—"

"I saw Bran's wolf tear out a man's throat at Winterfell," she said sharply, "and loved him for it."

—A Storm of Swords - Catelyn II

When he finally put the quill down, the room was dim and chilly, and he could feel its walls closing in. Perched above the window, the Old Bear's raven peered down at him with shrewd black eyes. My last friend, Jon thought ruefully. And I had best outlive you, or you'll eat my face as well. Ghost did not count. Ghost was closer than a friend. Ghost was part of him.

—A Dance with Dragons - Jon III

Catelyn and Ned reflected about the importance of the direwolves and how it was probable that the old gods have sent the magical beasts for their children: 

She put a finger to his lips. "Let me tell it all, my love. It will go faster that way. Listen."

So he listened, and she told it all, from the fire in the library tower to Varys and the guardsmen and Littlefinger. And when she was done, Eddard Stark sat dazed beside the table, the dagger in his hand. Bran's wolf had saved the boy's life, he thought dully. What was it that Jon had said when they found the pups in the snow? Your children were meant to have these pups, my lord. And he had killed Sansa's, and for what? Was it guilt he was feeling? Or fear? If the gods had sent these wolves, what folly had he done?

—A Game of Thrones - Eddard IV

She showed Brienne her palms, her fingers. "These scars . . . they sent a man to cut Bran's throat as he lay sleeping. He would have died then, and me with him, but Bran's wolf tore out the man's throat." That gave her a moment's pause. "I suppose Theon killed the wolves too. He must have, elsewise . . . I was certain the boys would be safe so long as the direwolves were with them. Like Robb with his Grey Wind. But my daughters have no wolves now."

—A Clash of Kings - Catelyn VII

"Any man Grey Wind mislikes is a man I do not want close to you. These wolves are more than wolves, Robb. You must know that. I think perhaps the gods sent them to us. Your father's gods, the old gods of the north. Five wolf pups, Robb, five for five Stark children."

"Six," said Robb. "There was a wolf for Jon as well. I found them, remember? I know how many there were and where they came from. I used to think the same as you, that the wolves were our guardians, our protectors, until . . ."

"Until?" she prompted.

Robb's mouth tightened. ". . . .until they told me that Theon had murdered Bran and Rickon. Small good their wolves did them. I am no longer a boy, Mother. I'm a king, and I can protect myself." He sighed. "I will find some duty for Ser Rolph, some pretext to send him away. Not because of his smell, but to ease your mind. You have suffered enough."

—A Storm of Swords - Catelyn II

And there is also the fact that three Stark men have died after saying the direwolves’s names:

Robb died after pronouncing his direwolf’s name: Grey Wind.

"Yes. Robb, get up. Get up and walk out, please, please. Save yourself . . . if not for me, for Jeyne." "Jeyne?" Robb grabbed the edge of the table and forced himself to stand. "Mother," he said, "Grey Wind . . ." "Go to him. Now. Robb, walk out of here."

—A Storm of Swords - Catelyn VII

Jon died after pronouncing his direwolf’s name: Ghost.

Jon fell to his knees. He found the dagger's hilt and wrenched it free. In the cold night air the wound was smoking. "Ghost," he whispered. Pain washed over him. Stick them with the pointy end. When the third dagger took him between the shoulder blades, he gave a grunt and fell face-first into the snow. He never felt the fourth knife. Only the cold …

—A Dance with Dragons - Jon XIII

Ned pronounced Sansa’s direwolf name: Lady, before killing the pup. And later he was executed after confessing treason as a way to save Sansa’s life:  

He left the room with his eyes burning and his daughter's wails echoing in his ears, and found the direwolf pup where they chained her. Ned sat beside her for a while. "Lady," he said, tasting the name. He had never paid much attention to the names the children had picked, but looking at her now, he knew that Sansa had chosen well. She was the smallest of the litter, the prettiest, the most gentle and trusting. She looked at him with bright golden eyes, and he ruffled her thick grey fur.

—A Game of Thrones - Eddard III

"If I did, my word would be as hollow as an empty suit of armor. My life is not so precious to me as that."

"Pity." The eunuch stood. "And your daughter's life, my lord? How precious is that?"

A chill pierced Ned's heart. "My daughter …"

"Surely you did not think I'd forgotten about your sweet innocent, my lord? The queen most certainly has not."

"No," Ned pleaded, his voice cracking. "Varys, gods have mercy, do as you like with me, but leave my daughter out of your schemes. Sansa's no more than a child."

—A Game of Thrones - Eddard XV

Ned’s case is different, because he didn’t die immediately after saying Lady’s name, but he said Lady’s name just before he killed the direwolf. Later though, Ned died while hearing Sansa’s screams and hysterical sobbing.  

By killing Lady, Ned killed a part of Sansa, his own daughter, so he not only killed a magical beast, but this could also be considered kinslaying, both crimes forbidden and punished by the gods.  

So, the pack of direwolves found in the summer snows are magical creatures probably sent to this generation of Stark kids by the Old Gods. The direwolves sound like the rare and magical beasts from the songs that Sansa mentioned in AGOT when she knew about the white hart sighted in the kingswood.

While listing the possible inspirations that GRRM has used for the white hart, I found out that along the history, the white hart has been a sacred creature, blessed by gods, a messenger between worlds, an emblem for kings, a symbol for religions, and the guide of humanity in the greatest quests.  And the direwolves fit every criteria of that list: they are sacred creatures, blessed by the Old Gods of the North, messengers, guardians and protectors for the Stark kids, the sigil of House Stark and the old Kings of Winter, symbols of the Old Gods and the guide of the Stark kids for their greatest quest: The Long Night and the Battle for the Dawn.   

Now let’s talk about a particular direwolf, Ghost: 

IN THE SONGS, THE KNIGHTS NEVER KILLED MAGICAL BEASTS, THEY JUST WENT UP TO THEM AND TOUCHED THEM AND DID THEM NO HARM

Earlier in this post I mentioned that even knowing that Joffrey likes the killing part of hunting, Sansa doesn’t use the word “kill” at all, when she told Jeyne about her dream of Joffrey “taking the white hart and bringing it back to her”. 

Sansa told to Jeyne: “Joffrey would be the one to take the white hart” / “her gallant prince was worthier than his drunken father.” / “He shot it with a golden arrow and brought it back for me.” As if she was trying to say that Joffrey only captured the magical beast to bring it back for her, as a gift. And when I read that I thought that Sansa was remembering Lady. Why, you may ask? Because her brothers have actually found magical beasts in the summer snows: 

“A wolf,” Robb told him. “A freak,” Greyjoy said. “Look at the size of it.” (...) “It’s no freak,” Jon said calmly. “That’s a direwolf. They grow larger than the other kind.” Theon Greyjoy said, “There’s not been a direwolf sighted south of the Wall in two hundred years.” “I see one now,” Jon replied. Bran tore his eyes away from the monster. That was when he noticed the bundle in Robb’s arms. He gave a cry of delight and moved closer. The pup was a tiny ball of grey-black fur, its eyes still closed. It nuzzled blindly against Robb’s chest as he cradled it, searching for milk among his leathers, making a sad little whimpery sound. Bran reached out hesitantly. “Go on,” Robb told him. “You can touch him.” Bran gave the pup a quick nervous stroke, then turned as Jon said, “Here you go.” His half brother put a second pup into his arms. “There are five of them.” Bran sat down in the snow and hugged the wolf pup to his face. Its fur was soft and warm against his cheek.

—A Game of Thrones - Bran I

First thing to note is that the Stark kids: Jon, Robb and Bran are true knight material = In the songs, the knights never killed magical beasts, they just went up to them and touched them and did them no harm. But the rest of the Stark crew... not so much:

“No matter,” said Hullen. “They be dead soon enough too.”

Bran gave a wordless cry of dismay.

“The sooner the better,” Theon Greyjoy agreed. He drew his sword. “Give the beast here, Bran.���

The little thing squirmed against him, as if it heard and understood. “No!” Bran cried out fiercely. “It’s mine.”

“Put away your sword, Greyjoy,” Robb said. For a moment he sounded as commanding as their father, like the lord he would someday be. “We will keep these pups.”

—A Game of Thrones - Bran I

But while Robb and Bran were fiercely defending the pups against Theon’s attempt to kill them, Jon Snow was thinking for a better and lasting solution:  

“Lord Stark,” Jon said. It was strange to hear him call Father that, so formal. Bran looked at him with desperate hope. “There are five pups,” he told Father. “Three male, two female.”

“What of it, Jon?”

“You have five trueborn children,” Jon said. “Three sons, two daughters. The direwolf is the sigil of your House. Your children were meant to have these pups, my lord.”

Bran saw his father’s face change, saw the other men exchange glances. He loved Jon with all his heart at that moment. Even at seven, Bran understood what his brother had done. The count had come right only because Jon had omitted himself. He had included the girls, included even Rickon, the baby, but not the bastard who bore the surname Snow, the name that custom decreed be given to all those in the north unlucky enough to be born with no name of their own.

Their father understood as well. “You want no pup for yourself, Jon?” he asked softly.

“The direwolf graces the banners of House Stark,” Jon pointed out. “I am no Stark, Father.”

—A Game of Thrones - Bran I

Jon Snow saved the direwolf pups! He sacrificed himself so his siblings/cousins could keep them. And he was rewarded for it. He got a very special direwolf pup for himself.

Yes! Within the significant scene of the elder Stark boys finding the first five direwolves, Jon Snow finding the sixth one, Ghost, the albino direwolf, is the one that stands out:

Halfway across the bridge, Jon pulled up suddenly.

“What is it, Jon?” their lord father asked.

“Can’t you hear it?”

Bran could hear the wind in the trees, the clatter of their hooves on the ironwood planks, the whimpering of his hungry pup, but Jon was listening to something else.

"There," Jon said. He swung his horse around and galloped back across the bridge. They watched him dismount where the direwolf lay dead in the snow, watched him kneel. A moment later he was riding back to them, smiling.

"He must have crawled away from the others," Jon said.

"Or been driven away," their father said, looking at the sixth pup. His fur was white, where the rest of the litter was grey. His eyes were as red as the blood of the ragged man who had died that morning. Bran thought it curious that this pup alone would have opened his eyes while the others were still blind.

"An albino," Theon Greyjoy said with wry amusement. "This one will die even faster than the others."

Jon Snow gave his father's ward a long, chilling look. "I think not, Greyjoy," he said. "This one belongs to me."

—A Game of Thrones - Bran I

GRRM didn’t give us Sansa, Arya and Rickon reaction to the direwolves from their POV, we just got this bit from Catelyn’s:

He lifted his head to look at her. "Catelyn," he said. His voice was distant and formal. "Where are the children?"

He would always ask her that. "In the kitchen, arguing about names for the wolf pups." She spread her cloak on the forest floor and sat beside the pool, her back to the weirwood. She could feel the eyes watching her, but she did her best to ignore them. "Arya is already in love, and Sansa is charmed and gracious, but Rickon is not quite sure."

"Is he afraid?" Ned asked.

"A little," she admitted. "He is only three."

Ned frowned. "He must learn to face his fears. He will not be three forever. And winter is coming."

—A Game of Thrones - Catelyn I

But knowing Sansa, grand connaisseur of songs and stories, I can clearly imagine her reaction at the tale told by her brothers of how they found the six pups in the summer snows, very similar to this one:

The pale pink light of dawn sparkled on branch and leaf and stone. Every blade of grass was carved from emerald, every drip of water turned to diamond. Flowers and mushrooms alike wore coats of glass. Even the mud puddles had a bright brown sheen. Through the shimmering greenery, the black tents of his brothers were encased in a fine glaze of ice.

So there is magic beyond the Wall after all. He found himself thinking of his sisters, perhaps because he'd dreamed of them last night. Sansa would call this an enchantment, and tears would fill her eyes at the wonder of it, but Arya would run out laughing and shouting, wanting to touch it all.

—A Clash of Kings - Jon III

Sansa would have called the tale a song, she would have declared the direwolves magical beasts, and she would have proclaimed her brothers true knights.    

And I bet she would have been particularly fascinated by Ghost, the albino one, the rarest of the pack due to his coloring and being mute.  And Ghost was only found at the end by Jon alone. And I still wonder how could Jon hear the little pup when we all know Ghost is mute.  

See? Jon Snow is literally Sansa Stark’s wished/dreamed knight from the songs, he found, protected and saved the magical white beast, so different to Joffrey and the rest of false knights and butchers she has encountered so far.    

And I thought Ghost would be of great importance not only for Jon but also for Sansa in the future Books.

Ghost is the third magical white beast presented in ASOIAF, next to the white hart and the hrakkar.

Ghost is also the third albino creature presented in ASOIAF, next to Bloodraven and the Ghost of High Heart, a rumored Children of the Forest. 

Ghost also shared its colors with the weirwood tree:

WHITE AS BONE, RED AS BLOOD

Have you ever stopped to think about how Ghost is always described as the weirwood tree?

The weirwood is a species of deciduous trees found in Westeros, now found most commonly in the north and beyond the Wall.

The five-pointed leaves and the sap of weirwoods are blood-red, while the smooth bark on their wide trunks and wood are bone white. Most weirwoods have faces carved into their trunks. This was done by the children of the forest in ancient days, and is now done by the free folk as well as other descendants of the First Men, such as followers of the old gods in the Seven Kingdoms praying to heart trees in godswoods. In some cases sap has collected in the crevices of the carved faces, giving the trees red eyes which have been known to drip sap as if the trees were weeping. A weirwood will live forever if undisturbed.

Weirwoods are considered sacred to the followers of the old gods, and children of the forest believe weirwoods are the gods. [x]

The weirwood tree is also called the heart tree:

At the center of the grove an ancient weirwood brooded over a small pool where the waters were black and cold. "The heart tree," Ned called it.  The weirwood's bark was white as bone, its leaves dark red, like a thousand bloodstained hands. A face had been carved in the trunk of the great tree, its features long and melancholy, the deep-cut eyes red with dried sap and strangely watchful. They were old, those eyes; older than Winterfell itself. They had seen Brandon the Builder set the first stone, if the tales were true; they had watched the castle's granite walls rise around them. It was said that the children of the forest had carved the faces in the trees during the dawn centuries before the coming of the First Men across the narrow sea.

—A Game of Thrones - Catelyn I

Now, let’s see how Ghost is described:

"He must have crawled away from the others," Jon said.

"Or been driven away," their father said, looking at the sixth pup. His fur was white, where the rest of the litter was grey. His eyes were as red as the blood of the ragged man who had died that morning. Bran thought it curious that this pup alone would have opened his eyes while the others were still blind.

—A Game of Thrones - Bran I

And suddenly Ghost was back, stalking softly between two weirwoods. White fur and red eyes, Jon realized, disquieted. Like the trees …

—A Game of Thrones - Jon VI

Red eyes, Jon realized, but not like Melisandre’s. He had a weirwood’s eyes. Red eyes, red mouth, white fur. Blood and bone, like a heart tree. He belongs to the old gods, this one.

—A Storm of Swords - Jon XII

The most famous weirwood tree in Westeros is the one in the godswood of Winterfell:

When Jon closed his eyes he saw the heart tree, with its pale limbs, red leaves, and solemn face. The weirwood was the heart of Winterfell, Lord Eddard always said … but to save the castle Jon would have to tear that heart up by its ancient roots, and feed it to the red woman’s hungry fire god. I have no right, he thought. Winterfell belongs to the old gods.

—A Storm of Swords - Jon XII

As the weirwood is called the heart of Winterfell, Ghost is also part of Jon:

When he finally put the quill down, the room was dim and chilly, and he could feel its walls closing in. Perched above the window, the Old Bear's raven peered down at him with shrewd black eyes. My last friend, Jon thought ruefully. And I had best outlive you, or you'll eat my face as well. Ghost did not count. Ghost was closer than a friend. Ghost was part of him.

—A Dance with Dragons - Jon III

So, in Ghost, we have a symbol of the weirwood tree, and the children of the forest believe that the weirwoods are the old gods themselves.

As I already said in other metas, Ghost and Lady are presented in the Books, as complementary and shared very interesting parallels and contrasts: [x] [x]. 

Indeed, with Jon’s death and the previous death of Lady, we have two Stark kids incomplete. Throughout the books we have read many times that the direwolves are part of the Stark kids. Sansa lost her direwolf and then Ghost lost its master. So, after that, I think that Sansa and Jon will be a great complement for each other’s lost part. 

And I think George has hinted at that with this passage:

When Sansa opened her eyes again, she was on her knees. She did not remember falling. It seemed to her that the sky was a lighter shade of grey. Dawn, she thought. Another day. Another new day. It was the old days she hungered for. Prayed for. But who could she pray to? The garden had been meant for a godswood once, she knew, but the soil was too thin and stony for a weirwood to take root. A godswood without gods, as empty as me.

—A Storm of Swords - Sansa VII

After leaving Winterfell, Sansa lived in the Red Keep and in the Eyrie, both castles without a weirwood: The heart tree of the Red Keep’s godswood was a great oak and the Eyrie’s godswood has no heart tree at all.  Sansa lost Lady, Sansa lost part of her, Sansa lost the weirwood of her her godswood. A role that Ghost could easily play for her.

To sum it up:

The weirwood tree is called a heart tree, and Winterfell’s weirwood tree in particular is called the heart of Winterfell.

The weirwood is a part of Winterfell (its heart) and Ghost is also part of Jon.

Ghost is a symbol of the weirwood tree, and the children of the forest believe that the weirwoods are the old gods themselves.

Sansa lost Lady, her direwolf and part of her. 

Sansa, after leaving Winterfell, has lived in castles with godswoods without gods (without a weirwood).  

Sansa felt as empty as a godswood without gods (without a weirwood).

Ghost could be the missed weirwood for Sansa’s empty godswood.

Jon and Sansa sharing Ghost, a symbol of the weirwood tree (heart tree), would be as if they share the same heart.

Jon and Sansa sharing Ghost would be like a recreation of the song called “Two Hearts that beat as one”. They would be two souls sharing the same heart. 

I would call this song: “One heart that beat for two souls”. Which reminds me of my favorite e.e. cummings’ poem: i carry your heart with me (i carry it in my heart). Which is also the title of a larger “unfinished” meta of mine where I vastly explore Jon and Sansa’s connections with Winterfell and the heart tree (I put parts of it in this post).     

So there you have it. Jon Snow finding a magical white beast in the summer snows, coming for it, touching it and doing it no harm, could be the beginning of a great song about two souls sharing the same heart. 

“In the songs, the knights never killed magical beasts, they just went up to them and touched them and did them no harm”

“There is a song about the Queen in the North and the White Wolf, it is a story about two souls sharing the same heart “

(*) I dedicate this post to @shieldofrohan​; because, as she loves to say, she bullied me and annoyed me so much and for so long, that I ended up finishing this meta.  She has promised to keep being an annoying bully to me until I finish all my “unfinished” metas.  

[coffeeandchemicals]

(okay, last tag game, sorry for spamming everyone). Thank you @passivenovember for tagging me! This looks like fun.

Name/Nickname: Kellie - no nickname, I was never cool enough for one

Gender: She/Her - but gender is weird, I dunno, the more I think about it the more, I’m like, I dunno. 

Star Sign: uhhh, Pisces? Is that was this is?

Height: 5′7″ - some days I wish I was taller, some days I wish I was shorter

Time: 1:18 pm

Birthday: March 2

Favorite Bands: oh this is tough, they tend to cycle depending on my mood. Right now: The Cure, The War on Drugs, New Order, The Decemberists, Echo and The Bunnymen, The Lumineers, Future Islands, The Black Keys, Said the Whale, Lord Huron, and more that I can’t think of... 

Favorite Solo Artists: to be honest, I don’t really differentiate between bands and solo artists... The only solo artists that I can really think of (that probably still have bands) are Billy Idol and Dan Mangan. TBH, I have loved Billy Idol for more than half my life... 

Song stuck in my head: Psycho Killer by The Talking Heads

Last Movie: Enola Holmes - super cute

Last Show: I’m re-watching Black Sails, the character development in that show is pretty fantastic.

When did I create this blog: I think July of this year? Or maybe June?

What do I post: Mainly fanfic stuff, but that changes depending on what I’m fixated on... When I start school in January, I may subject you all to my musings on chemical engineering. Or I might not, because, honestly, who wants to read about that.

Last thing googled: Stargate - because I couldn’t remember Amanda Tapping’s character name. I love Stargate SG-1, but it has been probably eight years since I’ve watched. My hubby and I were trying to find it on a streaming service to watch again and it wasn’t there.

Other blogs: No... I still don’t know how to run this one

Do I get asks: Rarely! But I love them when I do! That hit of dopamine is fantastic

Why I chose my url: Because I’m a chemical engineer addicted to coffee... Although my anxiety has recently made me switch to decaf. 

Following: 292 

Followers: 70 and I appreciate every single one

Average hours of sleep: Insomnia is making me get around 5? But then I’m usually awake every hour because of nightmares... so that is not great. 

Instruments: None! I wish I could play something though - like the violin or harp, that would be amazing, but it would require too much time, money, and energy. I’m just too old. 

What am I wearing: Sweatpants and hoodie - the usual lounging clothes during winter in Canada

Dream job: This is tough. Like so tough. Because I’m so apathetic right now. Dream job that I could actually get - working in a gas plant, using my brain but not having to make major decisions. Dream job - book reviewer or editor? because reading and writing is amazing, but I don’t have enough original ideas to be an author. 

Dream trip: Ugh, Scotland for sure. And the rest of the UK. Then the Scandinavian countries, Eastern European countries and Russia. 

Favorite food: Coffee? Cheese?

Nationality: Canadian - but my ancestors came from Ireland and Scotland (Clan Fraser!)

Favorite song: It changes so often! But, right now, probably Lullaby by The Cure - it’s just so creepy and eerie. 

Last book I read: Hot Dog Girl by Jennifer Dugan - I was excited about it because it’s a queer YA novel, but I was pretty disappointed in it. 

Top three fictional universes I’d like to live in: Oh.... This is super tough. Possibly the Stranger Things Universe because the ‘80s is amazing (but then I’d have issues with the homophobia and misogyny and would probably be dead in the first five minutes). Maybe the Harry Potter universe - because magic and Scotland. Or in the American Gods universe, but like, as someone’s sidekick, just so I can observe stuff but not be part of the actual events?

Tagging: @thursday-knight @redplaid-on-redplaid @jameslee-k @introvertia @nblesbianbenhanscom @taylorinthetardis @hexlikesramennoodles

but no pressure! Only if you want to!

[missjosie27]

Year 3 Part 12- Change is Coming

Hello, everyone!

We have officially reached the end of Year 3 and what a ride it has been thus far. The amount of interest this story has generated despite Hogwarts Mystery being somewhat of a let down is very heartening. It's extremely fun to write, almost like writing therapy in a way.

That being said I'd like to give an update for the future which I will also put in the story notes. This story will not be updated again until the New Year. The reason being I have several other projects I'm trying to juggle not to mention I like to write the story ahead of time and then release it over a period of time.

So, for the month of November I will be writing other things which should be done by December in which I will begin Year 4 and hopefully have completed writing it by January. So I ask for your patience as a I try to get everything done in a very difficult time for me personally. I promise it will be worth the wait. I have lots of fun things planned for Year 4, including for a certain cute Slytherin girl ;)

Anyways, enjoy the chapter! David Grant will be back in no time!

Unlike the previous year, no Professor confronted David about the vaults in the aftermath of breaking into one. He expected McGonagall or Snape to confront him about it. The Potions Master did shoot him nasty glares but asked him no questions and was no worse than he usually was. Of everyone Pince was the most likely to try and either punish or get him to confess but nothing of the sort occurred. Oddly enough, he thought the irritable librarian might be side stepping him on purpose as she consistently avoided his gaze while he studied for his exams. But there was one similarity: as it was with the ice the boggarts seemingly vanished in the aftermath of their excursion. The curse was broken.

As for the other affairs at Hogwarts, Dumbledore had returned although no one knew just exactly where he’d gotten off to in the first place. There were rumors to be sure (including one where he allegedly slayed a Hungarian Horntail and another where he took a two week holiday at a muggle resort in France in order to study the magical properties of champagne) but none of them were substantiated. The third, soon to be fourth year, Gryffindor considered himself lucky that the Headmaster was not present during his latest escapade but nevertheless remained on his guard. Very little got by the old man despite his outwardly friendly, eccentric demeanor.

Exams were soon concluded as was the Quidditch season. Unfortunately for the Lions, Slytherin won their last matchup giving the snakes victory in the Quidditch Cup which was difficult to stomach given their resounding success the previous year. Charlie Weasley took it especially hard, but all were reassured by the words of Bill, who reminded everyone the same squad was returning next year and they had only lost their two games by a margin of 100 points. Despite the disappointing season Skye Parkin and Charlie remained two of the brightest young stars in Hogwarts.

Exams were formally concluded by the second week in June and to celebrate their marks among other things Bill also suggested they celebrate at the Three Broomsticks during the last visit to Hogsmeade. With a not so subtle wink he also made plans to invite everyone involved with the latest vault, signaling their latest triumph.

Though still mentally a bit fatigued, David thought the idea was a good one and supposed if there was any time to kick back and relax it was now. The map of the forest and the broken arrow were safely locked away in his trunk, and despite feeling like he was still far from finding Jacob, he was content for now that the boggarts had disappeared and Hogwarts returned to normalcy. Besides, he had a feeling a proper discussion regarding the latest vault was imminent at the Three Broomsticks.

All the same, it wasn’t a proper school year without one last confrontation with Merula Snyde.

It was a bright, sunny day, the kind that reinvigorates the bones and the soul when the weather turns warm in the highlands of Scotland. Happy to forgo the black robes of his uniform, he dressed himself in a white t shirt, red zip up jacket, blue jeans, and a pair of black vans he was quite fond of from a muggle company called ‘vans’ (he saw the advertisement on a commercial street in London and convinced his mother the value of such a purchase). Glancing one last time at the trunk he kept his things in he muttered to himself.

“Two vaults down. I wish finding you was simpler Jacob, we could be a family again if you just came back...why...why don’t you come back?”

Feeling a rare moment of tears surging through, David wiped them and buried the feelings just as he always did. He did not want to lose face in front of his friends nor indicate anything was wrong. A butterbeer and a few jokes would be enough to keep the pain at bay for at least a little while.

He left Gryffindor Tower which by now was largely devoid of anyone given it was a sunny day, exams were done, and most people were out and about. It was only when he reached the edge of the Great Hall that the Slytherin girl stepped out from the shadows.

“Grant.”

“Good Lord, we need to put a bell on you,” he quipped.

But Merula wasn’t laughing, though she almost never smiled (unless it there was malicious intent) this time there was a hard, stony faced expression that betrayed both frustration and deep seated anger.

“I know you found that vault and I know you broke that boggart curse,” she told him quietly.

“Good job, detective. Do you want a medal for special services for the school?”

It was quite remarkable how easy it was to get underneath her skin, but for once David didn’t have the energy to spend going back and forth with her. He was tired and in no mood to pull out his wand and duel her for the umpteenth time.

By the same token, he was prepared to all the same.

“I hope you enjoy your little victory with your pathetic friends. Savor it while you can,” Merula sneered at him.

“I will, thank you,” he responded coolly. “Can’t say the same for you though.”

The teenage Slytherin’s scowl morphed into a snarl as her fists clenched but she did not reach for her wand.

“Why?” she spoke through the clenched teeth. “Why do you always do this?!”

“You’re going to have to be more specific. I do a lot of things.”

“This!” Merula gestured wildly with her hands. “Every time we fight or battle you just respond with stupid wisecracks! And on top of that you always win!!”

David recognized straight away that this was not a typical tantrum from his long standing rival. Rather it was a plea, a desperate attempt to justify why things had gone the way they had. An answer for all of her failures.

“Merula, you’re looking at this the wrong way,” came his straightforward reply.

“And how should I be looking at it?” she snarled.

“I’m not going into these vaults so I can become rich or hold myself above everyone else...I’m doing it for my brother and for the friends who have my back.”

“I had friends!” Merula shot back. “Until you bloody well took Tulip and Barnaby from me!”

“I took no one from you,” David replied more forcefully. “They chose to join my side because you treated them like rubbish and didn’t feel like taking your orders anymore.”

But Merula refused to heed him.

“It’s your fault! Everything bad that’s happened to me is your fault!”

“Classic Merula Snyde,” the Gryffindor said with an angry sigh. “Can dish it out but can’t take it. Have you ever once thought that you might be wrong? Are you capable of caring about anything except yourself?”

“I-I...you-”

“You don’t know what a friend is because you’ve never had one,” he interrupted her. “I doubt you’ve ever cared to either.“

“Don’t pretend to know me, Grant!” Merula shouted. “There is nothing about my life you could possibly understand!”

“Maybe not, but I do know one thing: if you keep on doing the same thing over and over again expect the same results. And if attacking, insulting, and lying to me hasn’t worked thus far, you may want to consider that the source of your misfortune originates with yourself and not with me.”

For the first time since arriving at Hogwarts, David Grant had left Merula Snyde speechless. No comeback, taunt, or rejoinder came from her mouth. Instead, it was sealed shut in a tight line and once more he could see that same hurt in her eyes. The soft lavender tortured by pain and anguish. Temptation to express sympathy became suddenly apparent but that emotion was pushed back. How were you supposed to feel sorry for someone who tried to make your life miserable just because of their own hubris?

She’s right, I don’t understand. I don’t think I ever will.

“If you’ll excuse me, I have some people waiting for me at the Three Broomsticks. See ya next year.”

As he moved past Merula, he was prepared to engage her again if she attacked. But this time retaliation was absent as the Slytherin stood stock still, posture unchanging.

Taking the staircase down to the grounds, David wondered how long it would be before she moved again.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Thankfully, the Three Broomsticks was a much noisier but merrier environment and sure enough the entirety of his friends were there- Bill, Penny, Rowan, Ben, Tulip, Tonks, and Barnaby sitting at one of the corner booths. All were partaking in a round of butterbeer and to his pleasant surprise there was a full mug of it untaken as though it were waiting for him.

“Dave! You made it!” Rowan exclaimed. “What took you so long?”

“Had another run in with Merula,” he said frankly.

That caused the entire table to give pause.

“Did you have to-”

“Strangely enough she didn’t attack me this time,” he answered Ben straight away. “It was more like yelling and flailing angrily.”

Bill shrugged, edging the glass mug towards him.

“Well no need to worry about her now. Have a butterbeer. Madam Rosmerta said it was on the house.”

“Cheers, mate!” he thanked, raising his glass and taking a sweet sip.

“I propose a toast,” Tulip declared, raising her own glass. “All hail the conquering cursebreaker! Long may he reign!”

“Here, here!” the rest of the group shouted out.

David was genuinely touched.

“Thank you, all. I couldn’t have done it without any of you….though you might want to be careful where you say that. ‘Officially’ we weren’t anywhere near the vault, remember?”

“Nah don’t worry about that,” Tulip told him. “I’ve heard Pince was so embarrassed about the situation she hasn’t said a peep. Not even to Dumbledore.”

“The Professors aren’t dumb, they know that someone broke the curse on the vault since most of the boggarts vanished. I heard Professor Snape was on the warpath at the latest Prefect’s meeting,” Bill informed them.

“He is,” Barnaby confirmed taking a long swig. “Merula told him about Madam Pince, the Restricted Section, and the Cursed Vault.” A proud grin stretched across his face. “She forgot to mention the part where I defeated her and Ismelda.”

“So if he knows why isn’t he hauling my ass into his office right now tearing me a new one?” David asked.

“It’s like what Tulip said,” Tonks replied. “Pince is too embarrassed to admit what happened. Didn’t stop her from giving me detention through next year though.”

“There’s no proof,” Ben agreed. “Even I’m not worried.”

“Thought I think getting detention into next year might be a new Hogwarts milestone,” David said chuckling and raising his glass towards his pink haired friend. “Congrats.”

“That dungbomb was all for you, Dave. It was also totally worth it.”

“Feels good to get off scot free,” Tulip agreed. “Well almost all of us, anyway. I don’t want to say it was all due to my brilliant plan but…”

“What did you find in the vault, David?” Penny asked eagerly. It was a question she had clearly been dying to ask.

“We found a map of the Forbidden Forest and a broken arrow. So more clues just as it was last time.”

“I’d wager all my galleons and gobstone set that the next vault is in the Forbidden Forest. It won’t be like this year where we had to spend an enormous amount of time just figuring out where the location was. I know I’ll be reading about it all summer,” Rowan chimed in.

“You mentioned in our last private chat that the map had the letter ‘R’ in the top left corner,” Bill said. “Do you have any theories on that?”

David’s eyes scanned the table before lingering on Ben.

“I’ve been wondering the same thing….”

If his gaze was accusatory it was unintentional but it had the added effect of everyone else doing the same thing which unnerved the muggle born Gryffindor.

“Why is everyone looking at me?”

He has no idea. He can’t even remember David thought to himself.

“Ben...I don’t know how to explain this because you couldn’t remember anything...but last year we found a letter on your person addressed to me signed from someone named ‘R’.”

“We think they are possibly related given the circumstances,” Rowan added. “But it’s a suspicious part of this whole mystery. Surely you remember something, right?”

“But I don’t!” Ben protested. “I don’t know what happened. One moment I’m on the train looking for you guys and the next thing I remember was waking up in a huge block of ice freezing to death. You believe me, right Dave?”

There was no lie in the boy’s eye. Someone like Ben was practically incapable of harming or hurting another human being and he’d come quite a ways from the frightened first year he once was.

“I do, Ben. Don’t worry, we’re not accusing you of anything. Just trying to connect the small amount of clues we have.”

Ben smiled in appreciation but that was not the end of the topic.

“I hope you aren’t lying to protect us. We can’t help each other unless we know what’s going on,” Rowan said, a harshness to his tone that wasn’t usually there.

Ben’s reply was honest but somewhat cool as he looked Rowan straight in the eye.

“I’m not lying to protect you, I promise.”

Sensing some tension Bill quickly interjected with a positive smile.

“Let’s worry about mystery maps and unexplained memory loss for another day. We’re here to celebrate together and that’s what counts. Now how bout some more butterbeer?”

And so they did, talking, laughing, rejoicing, talking about many subjects. Of particular interest was Penny and Rowan’s regalement of their role in distracting Pince, which took on a whole new dimension when Tonks set off the dungbomb too close for comfort (“It took so long to get the smell out of my braids!” the blonde remarked). Also of note was the fact that the Slytherin Quidditch team celebrated their victory by pulling a prank on top of the Astronomy Tower: hanging a pair of knickers which no one knew how they managed to pull off (“I could have done way better!” Tonks claimed). All in all, it was the perfect end of the year party.

After what seemed like hours and into the mid afternoon, Hagrid made an unexpected but welcome appearance.

“Arigh’ there David?” he boomed coming up to the table. “Celebratin’ with one last butterbeer before yeh all go home fer the holidays?”

“Right you are, Hagrid! Come on, pull up a chair. Join us.”

“I’d love teh, but I was actually sent ter give yeh a message.”

David cocked an eyebrow.

“And what would that be?”

“Professor Dumbledore wants teh see yeh in his office,” the large gameskeeper replied looking a bit sheepish.

The group immediately went silent as they all gave looks of concern that all indicated the obvious question: did Dumbledore, even in his absence, know all along?

“If it makes yeh feel better, Dave the boggarts are almost all gone,” Hagrid tried to reassure him upon witnessing his distress.

“Thank you. But I best not keep him waiting.”

He reluctantly drained his glass, gave a goodbye to his friends and prepared to face the music.

Maybe Tonks will have a detention buddy next year

He didn’t want to think about a possible worst outcome.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Surprisingly, the password to Dumbledore’s office was the same as it was the previous year ‘lemon drop’ which made David wonder if it was an unintentional design flaw or genius due to the fact that most young witches and wizards had no idea what a lemon drop was. Either way, he didn’t think the upcoming conversation was going to be about muggle sweets as he stepped past the gargoyle and up the rotating stairs.

Unlike the last instance in which he’d been inside this office, the outline and appearance was not as wondrous a second time though the layout was still quite impressive. And on this occasion, Dumbledore didn’t waste any time delving into the matter.

“Ah, Mr. Grant. Please come forward.”

David did so, quite afraid that the Headmaster was not going to be so forgiving and direct him to pack his bags, his wand to be snapped in two. The warning at the beginning of the year echoed loudly in his head. However, whatever the old man was feeling he gave no indication as the bearded face and sparkling blue eyes remained passively neutral.

“This has become something of a tradition,” Dumbledore began. “Our annual opportunity to discuss life, love, endless heroics, and egregious misbehavior.”

“It seems so, sir.”

He was almost tempted to give up right then and there but if there was one thing he’d learned about Dumbledore in his time at Hogwarts it was to expect the unexpected. Therefore he decided to say little for now.

“I understand much transpired in my two week absence.���

“Yes, Professor. More than you could imagine.”

“Even the wildest imaginations could not have come up with the tales retold to me,” Dumbledore said, that familiar twinkle returning to his eye. “Dragons in the common rooms, mummies in closets, werewolves in greenhouses, and Voldemort himself lurking in every cupboard.”

You have no idea

“There was more than one report that even I made an appearance in boggart form.”

“I’m surprised people would be afraid of you sir….by the way does this mean the boggarts are all gone?”

A knowing look passed over Dumbledore’s features.

“I believe you have already made the observation for yourself, David. However, yes most of them are gone. It is important to note, however, that boggarts can never truly be banished because they are born of human emotion. Fortunately they can be of some use. Defense Against the Dark Arts classes can practice ‘Ridikkulus’ on the remaining ones for years to come.”

There was a slight pause in which the old man put something away into his magnificent desk.

“But I’m sure that’s nothing compared to what you faced in this latest vault. Please, tell me everything.”

So he did know. David supposed there wasn’t any use in playing dumb anymore as almost nothing got by the Headmaster in the first place. Yet, it was still amazing to him that he was able to glean his transgressions regardless.

“Sir, I-”

“There is no need to lie, David in case you were thinking of doing so. You are not in trouble for the time being. Please be honest.”

Reassuring enough

The third year Gryffindor acquiesced. Though he left out the details of some parts such as Tulip’s plan, his brother’s room, and the full extent of Bill’s involvement, he was truthful to the letter about what horrors lay inside and the fact that his boggart was You Know Who. Upon finishing his tale Dumbledore took a moment to muse before responding.

“This is all quite fascinating. It seems as though someone else tampered with the vaults which released the multitudes of boggarts.”

“Yes, sir. Originally, I did try to do as you asked at the beginning of the year.”

“And do you know the reason why your boggart takes the form of Lord Voldemort?”

Resisting the urge to shudder at the name, David debated on how to properly answer. Though he gave Tulip a truthful answer before, it was not the full truth, one that had only just come to bear by virtue of entering the vault.

“It’s not You Know Who himself. It’s more what he represents.”

“And what does he represent to you?”

Dumbledore’s eyes were piercing over his half moon spectacles but they were also gentle and understanding giving his pupil ample time to respond. When David did finally answer, it was difficult to get the words out.

“Guilt,” he said with tremendous effort. “Guilt over Jacob and why he left. The rumors after his disappearance about joining You Know Who were constant. If you want a reason why I went after the vaults again that’s the main one. To try and find him...I heard his voice speaking to me in the vault again...”

He couldn’t continue but there was no need to say more as Dumbledore nodded empathetically.

“Naturally. And if I had such information I would certainly share it. However, the mystery of Jacob Grant remains. While I cannot speak to his location I can speak to my personal theory that he yet lives...your bond is proof of that.”

David nodded in return but he was unable to discuss his brother any longer. Switching gears, there was a question he had for Dumbledore as well.

“Professor, you’ve gone at certain points in each of the past two years. Where exactly have you been?”

“Ah yes, I believe it is my turn to answer some questions,” the old man said with good humor. “I take it you’ve heard the wild rumors.”

“Almost every single one.”

“Then you must have discerned I was not in France to discern the magical properties of champagne though it is rather tasty I must say,” Dumbledore chuckled. “No, I have been seeking the world’s finest curse breaker. One who has had intimate experience with the cursed vaults. An exceptional pupil of mine back when my beard was shorter and browner.”

“Who is she?” David couldn’t help but ask.

“A woman by the name of Patricia Rakepick. At present she is currently exploring recently discovered ruins under the Brazilian wizarding school Castelobruxo.”

Familiarity with that name rang through the teen’s head.

“Rakepick...I know that name. I gave Bill a book about her adventures in cursebreaking. I had no idea.”

“Indeed, she is considered one of the magical community’s premiere experts on the subject. When the next year begins, she will be at Hogwarts to assist us with these vaults. I am most interested in hearing her opinion of them and of you.”

Dumbledore’s face then turned stern but the blue eyes did not lose all of its twinkle.

“You have directly disobeyed me, yet you have also once again broken a curse that threatened the livelihood and safety of everyone here. I am running out of excuses for you, David. If you repeat this offense again with a professional on staff, I will not be able to insulate you from further punishment.”

This was the Headmaster at his most serious and despite his general easy going demeanor it was not lost on David that this was also the only man You Know Who ever feared. It would not do to openly argue.

“Yes, sir. I’m sorry.”

Dumbledore gestured towards his left, indicating a bright red and yellow bird, sitting on a perch in all its splendor.

“Actions are far better than apologies. Take Fawkes for example. From time to time the Phoenix is reborn- fresh and rejuvenated. You have that power too. Take the summer, and when you return to Hogwarts, start fresh.”

David nodded emphatically taking in the beauty of the Phoenix.

“Yes, sir. I’ll do my best.”

The old man’s faithful smile was back again.

“In the meantime, take one hundred points for Gryffindor. I daresay that might take the sting out of losing the Quidditch Cup this year.”

“You don’t know the half of...I mean, thank you, Professor.”

Dumbledore laughed heartily.

“I can always count on a whimsical remark from you in our conversations, David. However, there is one more thing I wish to tell you. Though the Vault of Fear has been broken it’s legacy remains ever present in our lives. Fear causes human beings to act in ways they would not normally, and though the Voldemort you fought was only a boggart, the real Dark Lord used the exact same method to gain followers and seize power. Remember that it is only by confronting our worst nightmares that we rise above them and truly become better people. No doubt that is one of many lessons you’ve taken this year.”

The wisdom was not lost on the young Gryffindor. He did not need to be afraid of Jacob or him joining You Know Who. The only method now was to move forward in continuing the search for his lost brother.

“Yes, sir.”

Feeling he was dismissed, David turned to leave but not before one last telling remark from the Headmaster.

“David, my last bit of wisdom was not aimed solely for you alone. There are many other students who could stand to start fresh next year. Including one miss Merula Snyde.”

He didn’t respond to that and didn’t need to. The implication was clear enough. Everyone was going to go through some changes in the coming months. What kind had still yet to be determined.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Dumbledore’s last second gesture allowed the Gryffindors to eek by the Slytherins for the House Cup, which did not sit well with the snakes, however given that it was the end of the year, it was too late to do much about it. The party in the tower the night before graduation was legendary. So much so that Angelica Cole even drunkenly admitted how much she cared for and would miss him.

“You’ll be a great prefect,” she slurred, firewhiskey in hand.

David wasn’t overly concerned with that. The naming of prefects for his peer group was still another year away and he knew that Rowan or Charlie were the most likely candidates anyway. At the forefront of his mind was the long summer ahead, a time of relaxation and fun for most people, but for the Grant family there would be little to no vacations. His father would stay stoically silent, his mother constantly hen pecking...only his grandfather seemed to truly sympathize with him.

I reap the consequences of Jacob’s absence, he thought to himself at one point. Mum and Dad are incapable of seeing that

Still, he was able to enjoy the train ride home with his friends, which was a small consolation for the isolated, controlled environment he could expect upon his return to Bath. He scanned the prophet for any signs of beat writers catching wind of the boggart problem at Hogwarts but saw nothing, not even from the notorious Rita Skeeter. Breathing a sigh of relief, he supposed that unless Dumbledore lettered his parents, they would never know he had disobeyed them as well.

“Are you okay, David?” Rowan asked.

He tossed aside the newspaper and rubbed his eyes.

“Yeah sorry, mate. Was just finishing up checking the Quidditch scores.”

“Seems like something else is on your mind, though.”

His best friend knew him better than most people, so he supposed it was fitting he’d realize not everything was settled inside (least of which the eggs and bacon he consumed that morning).

“This year was the most interesting one yet,” he said aloud as he looked out the window. “And yet I feel next year will be even more so. My gut tells me a lot is going to change.”

“It may,” Rowan acknowledged. “But it may not be all bad. You’ll see.”

David turned around and observed the group in front of him- Ben, Charlie, Tulip, and Penny, his hazel blue eyes dilating slightly at the two girls, noticing just how pretty they looked.

“Yeah...maybe you’re right.”

“Besides if there’s one thing I can count on it’s cursebreaking adventures with my best friend.”

David clapped an appreciative hand on Rowan’s shoulder, warmth rushing through his heart.

“Thanks, mate...you’re just interested in reading about the Forbidden Forest this summer aren’t you?”

Rowan laughed at the joke.

“You caught me. Now come on, let’s go play some exploding snap.”

And so they did, and David was able to enjoy the last few sunny hours on the train. All the while he was able to heed the lesson this latest vault had taught him. It did no good to live in fear, especially when you had friends to count on.

But as it was every year, the ride back to Platform nine and three quarters was always quicker than the journey from there. Soon, everyone was unloading their luggage, saying hello to their families against the backdrop of the sunkissed day and over the roar of the hissing steam emanating from the train.

“Another vault down, another one to go,” Bill told him with a grin, shaking his hand. “Can’t wait to do this again next year.”

“As always, Bill. And who knows maybe we can finally get Charlie involved.”

“If you manage to get him away from dragons and Quidditch you might have a shot,” the elder Weasley laughed. “My folks are waiting in the parking lot, but make no mistake mum is very keen to meet you. We have to invite you for Christmas some time.”

“I’d be honored.”

Next was Tulip who had that ever present mischievous smirk but it was much softer in the presence of a farewell.

“Take care, David Grant. You’re a very intriguing person, and I can safely say I’m very glad I met you.”

“I could say the same about you, Tulip,” he responded genuinely. “Nothing we did this year would have happened without you.”

The eccentric Ravenclaw responded with something quite unexpected. She kissed him on the cheek and squeezed his hand once more.

“You’re many things, David Grant. Boring least of all, but most of all a good person. Can’t wait to make more mischief in the fall.”

She winked at him and ran off to join two people, which looked like her parents, one was a stern looking Japanese man with a bowler hat, the other an Irish woman with flowing red hair who also gave no visible emotion on her face. David felt a pang of empathy go through him. His parents may be strict, but he could only imagine what Tulip went through during the summer. He made a point of reference to write to her. Something told they’d both need it.

After exchanging goodbyes with Rowan and Ben, Penny was the last to see him off.

“Summer always seems dreadfully long even if it is my favorite time of year,” Penny told him. “Feel free to write me any time.”

“You know I will,” David said with a smile. “I’ll need all the post I can get.”

The blonde girl rubbed his arm encouragingly.

“It’s not forever, Dave. We’ll see each other again before you know it. Enjoy the holiday with your family!”

David supposed she didn’t know the true origins of his post semester blues, but he didn’t have the heart to tell her it was his family that was precisely the problem.

“I will, Penny. Thank you.”

For the second time in as many instances, he received a big hug and a kiss on the cheek, causing him to go red and touch the spot where he received the affectionate gesture, which made Penny giggle.

“See you next year, cursebreaker of Hogwarts.”

The last thing David had expected was two kisses on the cheek from two of his best female friends and it made him feel quite funny on the inside.

He had little time to dwell on these feelings however as his parents came into view a brown haired man with a goatee and a short blonde woman, waving and walking towards him.

“David!” his mom gushed, giving him an enormous hug. “So glad to see you safe and well. How are you? Did your exams go well?”

“Now, now let him breathe Heather,” his dad said with a light chuckle. “He just got off the train.” He ruffled his son’s dark brown hair in a show of affection. “It is good to see you safe and well, David.”

“Do you have your things unloaded and ready to go? Are you hungry?”

“Don’t worry, mum. I’m all set,” he said quickly to reassure her. Not even a minute in he was already tired of her smothering.

“Very good then, can’t blame a mother for asking.”

“I rented out a ‘Chevro’ something,” his father mentioned to him as they began to walk away from the platform. “Yank automobile. Runs pretty well, I know we can apparate but I’m thinking of buying one for myself. Dead useful these things.”

“John, please keep your voice down lest the entirety of muggle London know what we are.”

“Apologies, dear.”

His mother turned to face him and beamed a great smile but as it was since his brother disappeared there was a subtle sadness and anxiety within them.

“I have good news. We’re going to visit my side of the family this summer at their house for a get together. My brother is having another baby soon. I hope you’re ready for it.”

David thought back to his friends, his Professors, Dumbledore, the map, the broken arrow and the lively face of Jacob whispering to never give up. He looked up at his parents, two people whose lives were still run by fear...fear of losing him.

“Yes,” he replied. “I am.”

[idontactuallyeatflowers]

get to know me better ♥ tagged by @012798 :)

name/nickname: hannah, mutuals also call me flowers (from my url) 🌸

pronouns: she/her!

sign: taurus

height: 5′5″

birthday: may 1!

fave bands: owl city, lord huron, fleetwood mac

song stuck in my head: the cult of dionysus by the orion experience

last movie: ratatouille 🍅

last show: science fell in love, so i tried to prove it (enemies to lovers??)

when i created this blog: like...2014? omg

last thing i googled: carcinisation

do i get asks?: not as much as i’d like to 👀

why this url: long story...

what im wearing: gray leggings & black socks, a pink cropped long sleeve that i found in the back of my car, and pink slippers

dream trip: the ocean <33 but in all honesty it’s always been a goal of mine to travel the world with someone i love...in particular i’d really like to visit verona, reykjavic, kyoto, and the countrysides of scotland, italy, france, and china someday! and anywhere else with a wide variety of good food really lol

fave food: i love...a lot of food. but soup is and always will be number one

fave song: dynasty by rina sawayama!!! never felt a song so meant for me

3 universes i’d like to live in: kiki’s delivery service (magic powers + idyllic scenery), barbie: mermaidia (obvious reasons), and animal crossing new horizons (friendship) 💖

and i’ll be tagging: @petitevanillawitch, @charliecherrim, @thetimeiwasnineteen, @troyeslittlenuggett, @dopplegoners and anyone else who would like to do these !!