#I like what I had originally imagined for Harry’s scar

[moseslikellamas]

Ginny Weasley and the Year of healing

Pairing is a mystery! Its also a mess so.

Summary - following the end of the Second Wizarding War, Ginny Weasley isn't doing well. In fact, she actively losing her mind. Constantly plagued by memories of the war, Ginny is struggling to hold herself together. Adding to her stress is another year at Hogwarts. Unsure of how to continue her life with the devastating effects of the war looming over her, Ginny embarks on the hardest year of her life. Follow along as Ginny remembers what it feels like to feel safe and alive again. -LONG so very long. -love triangle -SLOWEST BURN TO EVER EXIST.

Warnings - depictions of ptsd, trauma, mentions of violence and death, character death, angst, mentions of grief, anxious thoughts, mental health issues,

Word count 1.6k but I have over 100k ready to upload if there’s interest!!

Disclaimer: I do not own these characters. I do not condone any of the actions or words of hate spewed by J.K. Rowling.

Due to the lack of certain information provided by the source material (mostly named characters), I will be including new names and faces.

Some ideas from canon will be the same mostly, up until the Battle at Hogwarts. From there things will vastly change, besides the established deaths in Canon.

All art work is original, please do not repost.

This is my first HP fan fiction and I do not have a beta reader so I imagine there will be errors. I will try to edit any mistakes I see but eh some times things might slip through.

Ginny may also seem out of character for a while as well, the effects of the war making her a husk of her former self.

Ginny was tired. A bone deep weariness had set up inside of her. She was tired of her overbearing family, tired of the well wishers. She was sick of her own face reflected back at her. The war had stretched on, impossibly long. After enduring a year of hell at school, the battle at hogwarts had pushed the death eaters back from the campus. But they were not defeated. The second Harry has revealed himself alive, Voldemort vanished. The Order spent another six months looking for him. It was imperative they not allow him to create any more horcruxes. Of course Ginny hadn't known that at the time. She hadn't known anything, she thought bitterly. It had taken them another four months to figure out a plan of attack and a month later, in April Voldemort had been defeated. Ginny shivered, despite the warm sunshine flittering across her skin. It would be august soon but to her it felt like nothing. The scar on her face pulsed, still angry and irritated. Soon she'd have to return to school, to the dull mundanity she had wished for. Only now as she sat outside under a large oak tree trying to enjoy the summer breeze, normal seemed unattainable. A childish fancy, one that never really existed at all.

A shadow fell over Ginny but she didn't bother to look up. Only one other person wanted solitude like her. The rest of them took comfort in being together. George sat solemnly beside her, staring out at the windswept grass. They found each other often now that the war had ended. Now that there was too much time to think and agonize over the aftermath. Harry, Ron and Hermione had been glued together at the hip, not that she blamed them. If anything she was jealous of them. Someone to lean on, someone who had experienced the exact same horrors. Yeah Ginny was envious. Sure she had Neville and Luna. But they had their own problems, issues that had nothing to do with her.

For the first time Ginny felt truly alone and she wasn't sure how to deal with it. Truthfully she didn't know if she even wanted to deal with it. All of the anger and spite that drove her before was just gone. Now her bones were hollow and she was one bad breeze away from floating off. She sighed and leaned her head against George's shoulder. They sat there together silently until the sun had set and Ginny knew their mother would be after them.

She offered her hand to George, pulling him up and walking hand in hand back towards the burrow. The burrow was different, its newer additions too bright for the run down exterior. The closer she got, the more claustrophobic Ginny felt. The house was always full now, bustling in the post war haze. Members of the Ministry floated in and out, updating them on any latest news or rebuilding efforts. To Ginny it felt stifling, like she was walking on eggshells. There were no opportunities for her to just be. And she desperately wanted to just exist, to find the time to sort out the mess her head had become. 

"Ginny? Where've you been? Mums been going mental looking for you."

"Oi! Ginny!"

Ginny ignored Ron and continued into the house. Someone was always looking for her now. Afraid she was going to go off the deep end she supposed.

"Hi mum."

Her voice sounded ragged even to her own ears. But Molly paid that no mind, glancing up from the cookbook page she'd been reading her face softened. It made Ginny feel sick, like her mother could see straight into her soul. Like Molly could see how broken and purposeless she was. She turned her head, having already tuned out whatever her mother was saying. Ginny meandered her way through the house not stopping until she opened a window and climbed out onto the roof. Then she could take a full breath again.

  The stars were twinkling so brightly but Ginny was focused on not gripping her legs so tightly they bled. Her mother would give her as much space as she could, as long as she held it together. That included finishing school, which she had agreed to no objections. School wasn't the problem, she was. Violent memories swirled around Ginny's mind, it felt hard to discern what was happening now and what was simply a memory. Which was why she preferred to be alone, that way no one could see how badly she was losing her mind.

 That made Ginny feel guilty as well. Harry had died, who was she to feel insane? The same toxic hurtful thoughts kept bouncing around her mind, she felt like screaming. She might have if she thought it would help. Instead it would just bring more problems, cause more concern. Everyone already thought she was going to shatter if they looked at her too long. And maybe they were right. Maybe during class one day she'll just snap and they'll cart her off to St. Mungo's for the rest of her days.

The sound of the window sliding open pulled Ginny out of her thoughts. She chanced a look back and saw it was Harry this time. Her heart squeezed painfully at the sight of him. She could still picture him dead, unmoving in Hagrids arms. The echoes of her scream reverberated inside of her head. She shook her head to clear the image away.

   

"Thought I would come out and warn you. Molly will be livid if you don't come down for dinner."

Ginny nodded appreciatively. And in the same dead voice she'd used to greet her mother, said "Thanks Harry."

Ginny was glad when he didn't leave. If anyone had an inkling as to what she felt, Harry did. He never pushed her or became curious over her time at Hogwarts. He simply endured, silent beside her lost in his own thoughts. They sat comfortably for a while until a knock on the window glass startled Harry so badly he nearly fell off the roof. She had almost cracked a smile at that.

Dinner for Ginny was always a rushed mess she couldn't remember. She felt far away from the moment, cocooned deep inside her own head. Like her head was underwater, everything was muffled. The noise rose and muddled together, a cacophony of nothingness. It wasn't until Hermione pinched her side that she even realized her mother was talking to her.

"Sorry mum I didn't catch that."

The look of pity her mother gave her seemed permanently etched on her face.

"I was just asking Hermione if you two would like to join me for some shopping later. Nothing school related we've still plenty of time to gather that. But just to get out of the house..."

Molly trailed off and Ginny saved her poor mother the trouble of continuing.

"Yeah mum that sounds great."

Ginny didn't remember the rest of dinner or even how she had gotten back up on the roof. Nor did she know how long she had been outside. But she could feel the wind whipping her hair around. It was longer than it had ever been. It nearly reached down to her knees. Usually someone braided it for her, otherwise she'd let it knot up. The war had been over for almost three months. Her father had already returned to work and the majority of major reconstruction had begun. But it would be years before they saw everything fixed and the scars would always remain.

Ginny tried her best to not think of the war, any of it. In fact she made it her personal mission to block every memory pertaining to it that she could.

In the immediate aftermath of Voldemort's death, Ginny had gone missing. She could vaguely recall running through a forest of trees but most of that week was missing from her mind. And that didn't bother her one bit. They'd classified it as a mental break at St. Mungo's. There was no evidence of physical harm and Ginny had shown up to the burrow of her own accord a week after she went missing.

That was the reason everyone treated her like glass, they were afraid she would run off again.

   

Ginny woke up in her own bed unsure as to how she got there. But in the end it was inconsequential. She had made it to bed and that was all that mattered. Hermione was already awake, staring listlessly at the ceiling. It almost shocked Ginny to see her there. Usually Hermione would sneak out in the night to go sleep in Ron's room. Then she remembered they had agreed to go out with her mother, so Hermione had probably opted to not get caught. Though Ginny had a sneaking suspicion her mother already knew and simply turned a blind eye. She groaned internally, buying clothes wasn't going to suddenly make her feel like a person. But she knew this was more for her mum than for her so she busied herself with getting ready.

Hermione eventually got up as well, saying nothing to Ginny. Neither of them ever seemed up for talking these days, but Hermione silently braided Ginny's hair anyway. Something Ginny was endlessly thankful for even if she didn't say it. Together they descended the uneven stairs down to the front room. Molly was waiting with breakfast ready and the three of them ate in comfortable silence. George even came down and joined them. These days George was often missing from meals, Ginny would steal him a plate after everyone left if she were in her right mind.

"Alright let's step to it! I'm sure it's going to be bustling already. We've got three weeks until..."

Ginny bristled under her mother's words but the steadying hand George laid on her shoulder calmed her. I fought in a bloody war, I can brave a few shops. She thought irritated. She squeezed George's hand on her shoulder then stood to join her mother and Hermione.

—

I have so much of this written it’s honestly unhealthy and if anyone is interested pls let me know!

[ramblings-of-a-mad-cat]

From the gameplays I saw the devs were so busy making antisemitism simulator they forgot to make an interesting game. The fact that you can make a choices about most things there except allying with ranrok is stupid af but the ancient magic is an interesting plot and there isn't anything done with it. Oh you want to learn more about the mystic powers you have maybe develop a magic style unique to yourself NO go fuck yourself you can throw a stone and now go opress some goblins.

I’ve seen this sentiment circulating a lot as well. That the game is just objectively terrible at what it tries to be. How it pales in comparison to it’s contemporaries like Elden Ring. My favorite post is the one that points out how it has fewer available spells than Final Fantasy. As in, the original one. On the NES.

I don’t disagree. Cut corners are one of the worst things to see in a video game, and when HPHL directly informed the player that there would be no Quidditch and failed to offer a satisfactory excuse (or really, any excuse. “The Incident” doesn’t count if we never find out what it was.) I could feel my heart sinking. Another thing I don’t like? The illusion of choice, and this game suffers a great deal from that. I’ve got too many battle scars from Pokemon games. If you give me the option to say no to something, you had better actually listen to my saying no.

I feel as though a lot of time was spent on this game, based on the graphics, world, and characters alone…yet I also get the all-too-familiar sense that it was hurried. Could explain why the story only offers one year and doesn’t even cover O.W.Ls. Why Quidditch is omitted. I wonder if the developers could see Rowling blowing holes in the Harry Potter brand, and wanted to get this game onto shelves as quickly as possible. Still, taking some extra time to develop Ranrok and let us side with him, to actually feature multiple endings of consequence…would have made this game significantly better and potentially mended some of the problems with the Potterverse.

Because Hogwarts Legacy is not worthless. It is a good game. Among other things, it created Sirona Ryan, who is an absolute queen no matter which unfortunate words happen to be in her name. The game is not perfect by any stretch of the imagination, but it’s far better than a lot of critics seem ready to face. I know why people trash the game, it’s the same reason that the books get trashed. Rowling has turned on us, so no one wants to admit that she created a beautiful world that people are still enjoying to this day. A lot of the issues people point out are, in all likelihood, unintentional microaggressions born of a nineties mindset. The problem is that Rowling is now making the choice to double down on them.

[septembersghost]

Is clean about jake? Does that mean she hooked up with him in 2013?[she wrote it in 2014]

yes, i think it's always unquestionably been about jake, but any surrounding dates or circumstances don't particularly matter, because the effect that relationship had on her was still present anyway. maybe they never encountered one another romantically again after she resolved they'd never ever get back together, maybe they did (the story about her crying at an awards show upon seeing him leads me to think they didn't, however), but the initial timespan (which, like with harry, is definitely much longer than the couple of months that made it to press), and the back and forth and uncertainty of it all was really difficult for her. Red TV and even Maroon definitely make Clean that much clearer. but something that's striking to me is in what she originally said in 2015 (jake was in london at the time she mentions in 2014, iirc for a play):

""Clean" I wrote as I was walking out of Liberty in London. Someone I used to date—it hit me that I'd been in the same city as him for two weeks and I hadn't thought about it. When it did hit me, it was like, Oh, I hope he's doing well. And nothing else. And you know how it is when you're going through heartbreak. A heartbroken person is unlike any other person. Their time moves at a completely different pace than ours. It's this mental, physical, emotional ache and feeling so conflicted. Nothing distracts you from it. Then time passes, and the more you live your life and create new habits, you get used to not having a text message every morning saying, "Hello, beautiful. Good morning." You get used to not calling someone at night to tell them how your day was. You replace these old habits with new habits, like texting your friends in a group chat all day and planning fun dinner parties and going out on adventures with your girlfriends, and then all of a sudden one day you're in London and you realize you've been in the same place as your ex for two weeks and you're fine. And you hope he's fine. The first thought that came to my mind was, I'm finally clean."

the part about heartbreak is like a depiction of Red, down to her saying that in her announcement of the re-recording last year:

"I’ve always said that the world is a different place for the heartbroken. It moves on a different axis, at a different speed. Time skips backwards and forwards fleetingly. The heartbroken might go through thousands of micro-emotions a day trying to figure out how to get through it without picking up the phone to hear that old familiar voice. In the land of heartbreak, moments of strength, independence, and devil-may-care rebellion are intricately woven together with grief, paralyzing vulnerability and hopelessness. Imagining your future might always take you on a detour back to the past."

there wasn't another situation at that time that she needed to feel "clean" from, and of course clean itself has taken on very different personal meanings for each of us, for her, through the clean speeches, and over the past few years. and something i think she learned and that's evident in what she's revisited and written is that maybe you're never as clean as you thought you were, because you can't be unbroken, and you carry those scars, and that that's okay too. that you can reveal that and still be beautiful and capable of love.

all this to say i cannot wait to sob to clean tv 💙

[thewul]

Ace full of Kings

Welcome to suburbia land and the wealth of suburban lifestyle, although on the surface it may have looked like nothing, boring even, there was good poker players and poker nights, Sunday baseball games were always fun even if it's just kids, and every Wednesday at the local bar karaoke nights entertained the best and worst singers the neighborhood had, there was different stuff once you started digging in it, once you got acquainted with the place and its people most of all, and you know anywhere is worth it if you find good poker players

Tonight we are having a poker night in a dimly lit small backroom at Harris, smoke filled with the cigars that Barnes procured from an army buddy selling them on the low from Puerto Rico where he was posted, the room had every kind of Seahawks team memorabilia you could think of, signed jerseys and footballs, players cards, framed press articles, and a heap of photographs with the players and staff plastered the walls almost entirely, a lifetime collection that spilled to a few large boxes stacked one on top of the other, as a cop Harris had his entries, originally from Seattle before he bailed after getting in serious trouble with organized crime, it even had trophy replicas on a shelve, complete with Seahawks branded coffee mugs and coffee machine

Seahawks was "the coolest name for a football team" and the retired street cop was a huge fan, and of course it had the crackling police radio noise in the background because that's what you would expect from a retired street cop, to stay put even if, a couple of years ago we had invested in a proper poker table, our pride and joy, professional green mat and cup holders, the bar well it wasn't much, but Harris kept it filled with his rake although he didn't like to hear that word

Meet the players, or the demonstration that maybe prosperity isn't what it used to be, that the neighborhood isn't what it used to be, life in general, but that poker can heal all wounds, imagine that a poker night at your neighbor's poker room, a bottle of the finest whiskey money could buy for under 100 Dollars, put together around the fine looking table more than a hundred years of life experience, retirees, O’Brian retired fireman, Harris still on police radio, Brown a retail store manager, a black man who fought his way in life arguing to too many customers that he was the store's manager, and Barnes a Vietnam vet with two rounds of duty under his belt and the scars to prove it

Billy Perkins wasn't half their age but they made a place for him because he was good at poker, above all they wanted to know why he wasn't not good at money other than the chips that he racked often, and above all if he realized that a man his age of his character can be anything he wanted in life, he was on to something big that's what they all thought of him

I'll have that widow hand, No Billy Perkins you can't have that Why not? You're not even married, Well look at me it's my winning hand, What do you know it's your winning hand? See it's two pairs already, say I score a full and a pair, I don't say nobody says that replied Barnes, Or 4 of a kind, ace high Come on now, Why come on, you're not even looking at your hand, don't like what you see? I have a better hand! What you're raising now, Of course am raising, am raising your better hand, Watch out the kid is on a roll

That fishing contest Billy how did it go? asked Harris, We won it, uncle Joe is the best, sold the fish for ten grands I made half of it, That's good money what are you going to do with, repaint the house I guess its been due for a while, Get a new lawnmower too your front yard looks like a jungle he added while fetching a couple of new cards, I was thinking of fixing it, That's what you said last week and the week before that

O’Brien took a long look at Perkins before deciding to share what he had in mind, tell me Perkins that O'Connor guy he's a big shot at the company where you work right? A big shot he's The big shot, used to be president and chairman of the board, Something is fishy about the whole thing, Such as? I've been told that propane tank was installed by a top notch utility business, checked it regularly, last time they did they replaced every joint gave the installation a clean bill of health, 3 months later the whole place blows up like a gas station on fire, wasn't supposed to happen like that

Retired Lt Harris who had listened on while staring at his hand paused his drink, see what you just described is murder for hire, come on now are we saying that rich folk homes don't blow up Brown interjected Brown, listen to the man Harris replied he said wasn't supposed to happen, But still it was a gas leak that did it am I correct, atleast that's what I read on the newspaper, Well there's guys that are into that stuff and they're paid big bucks to make murders for hires look like an accident

I didn't say a word more and kept focused on building my hand, thinking about what just been said, how O'Connor, Sullivan and Richardson had died within weeks, and so who benefited the most, Dillinger and again Dillinger who had an opening for president and chairman of the board, meanwhile he could push back indefinitely his retirement on the grounds that his succession had been hampered

Maybe if they fixed it wrong Brown went on, a botched job, you guys are always trying to make the stuff that happens in this city into a police movie, what do you know about gas Clayton replied O’Brien, what do I know about gas I used to run a retail store, it smells Clayton gas smells, see said Harris, the botched job might be O'Connor instead, did cops drop by at the company? They did answered Perkins coolly, keeping to himself that it wasn't about O'Connor that they showed up and that the murder count at Allstate was already 2 or 3 now by the looks of it, See no wonder, you have two guys who spent too many time doing this and they're saying that somebody punched that propane tank, Not the tank no that can leave traces remarked O'Brien, the joints are more likely

Because they would burn in the fire? Right it's not your everyday plastics but with that kind of temperature they will, If they don't catch who's behind this it's going to be another perfect murder, Perfect murder? That stuff exists? replied Brown, Oh yes it does and it's nothing that we advertise to people, Because you guys can't catch the murderer? No it's worse than that Clayton, we can't prove that it was a murder

Hey Barnes pour me a drink What's the occasion kid, Am doubling the raise, What for? For everyone's been throwing cards like they're yesterday's newspapers, But not the cards you want now Perkins, True haven't seen those, madam widow here is going to hand them right next, Ugly little weasel, Now now what's wrong with having a little drink

What on earth was he up to, a bigger pay no he was already well off, they all were, there had to be something else far more potent and sinister to justify his deadly power play, most of all the risks he took, Allstate was no small fish, 3rd largest insurance company amongst those who operated solely in the U.S, worth tens of billions

Am going all in gentlemen, Are you kidding us! It's several rounds we've been doubling that raise! Sergeant It's time to suck in the pain, What is it with suck in the pain, My favorite part, the single most telling line about war and about life, it's in the movie, What movie again? Barnes movie war movie, tell us about the alligators Barnes, There was no alligators in Vietnam, You sure look like you've been bitten by one, How come you're not a rich guy already since you're so cocky asked Barnes? Am hood rich, every week I come here and rack those chips Not always no, True sometimes I sit next to the bottle, Ouch

So? Am folding, Same here, Same, Barnes you're in? Let's see what you have, what I have is all in want to go all in? Not this time but I'll get you next time ugly weasel, I guess that's it, was nice playing you gentlemen partners, always a pleasure, Not so fast partner Perkins you have to pay the house, There you go Harris make my day, It's every other week that you always keep forgetting, But you don't

Let's see that hand you have, Does anybody look into a grave before getting in, That's it he had nothing but those two pairs, who let you sit next to the dealer anyways, The dealer sat next to me what should I do tell him to bounce, You think you're so clever, Look at you, you sat next to the bottle, Bluffers come with big mouths, Well you should have known Harris, He's been robbing us like that when he has nothing going he bluffs, Then I might have something going, Keep bluffing Perkins

How much did you make? Let's see there's a couple of upcoming games and I have to fork the beer cases at Barnes, Clayton asked me to take his car to the car wash stick me with bill plus extra for the leather chairs, O’Brien well what do you know he's got groceries he wants me to pick up any given Sunday, and Harris just raked me, Don't say that word, Why it's true, Keep things going for the club, Oh it's a club now? What do you think look at all the decoration

Was he after all of it why… Pretty much anyone else could arrive to the same conclusion as I did, police included especially the police, making him the prime suspect, or maybe in the back of his mind he thought he was so cunning that he could pull his moves without so much as a citation, so far he had succeeded that's the thing… The papers said the blast was an accident, and Richardson and Sullivan seemingly killed each others

That hand Perkins? It's there on the table, Can we? Go ahead what's the poker night for, What does he have? Aces full of kings!, Ugly little weasel, Keep going Perkins you'll get places, So he wasn't bluffing after all? Yeah it's the same to me Clayton, He's got something this young fellow, We agree on that, we said it over and over again, but he doesn't seem to know what it is himself, He's a good kid Harris he will find out when it's time, He doesn't look in a hurry and what do you know about time, it flies

Look at the hand that he has continued O'Brien, didn't even show it what does tell us about him Harris, Keeping his cards close to his chest, knows best in life than to show his cards and when you know that his age in life you already know a great deal, I think paused Clayton, no I am convinced that he can be anything he wants in life, Well he's got us posted about what it's going to be replied Harris

[marieamardill]

Harry Potter Fanfiction - The Missing Potter

James & Lily are alive. A Potter Family Story.

Prologue

Lily smiled proudly down at the little bundle in her arms. In the early hours of November 1, 1983, their third child came into the world. They had never planned to have so many children at such a young age, but they couldn't imagine life without their little ones, even if it meant going into hiding under the Fidelius Charm to protect their eldest son.

Originally, the little bundle in her arms was supposed to be a home birth, but the baby had other plans as it didn't turn in time. A healer was needed to turn the baby. So they left Harry and Rose in the care of the grandparents.

"Minerva, what are you doing here?" Lily wondered, holding the 3-year-old Harry by her hand. A fresh scar in the shape of a lightning bolt adorned his forehead, and his red eyes revealed that he had been crying. "Mommy, Daddy!" the little boy ran into his father's waiting arms.

"What happened to Harry? Is he hurt?" James asked with concern as he examined the strange scar before lifting his son into his arms.

"Where's Rose? Is she still with my parents?" Lily wondered.

Minerva looked sadly at the little family. It was supposed to be a day of joy. After all, a little wizard was born tonight. "James, Lily - I bring sad news," she took a deep breath, "Last night, the one whose name cannot be mentioned was defeated."

"But that's great news!" James exclaimed.

"A very high price was paid for this victory. Not least because Harry defeated him."

"Ha! He was taken down by a three-year-old?" James laughed, "That's my boy! Super Harry! Give Daddy a high-five!"

"James, I regret to say these are really not news to celebrate. Mr. and Mrs. Evans were killed," she said heavily.

Lily couldn't make sense of the world anymore. They had been away from home for just half a day, and on that day, of all days, Voldemort chose to try to murder her family, her little son. He killed helpless Muggles who had no chance against him.

"Where is Rose?" Lily asked again. She had an uneasy feeling. Why did Minerva bring only Harry? Where was her one-year-old daughter?

"Rose Lilian has disappeared without a trace," she explained, "I'm truly sorry... the Aurors and Dumbledore are searching for her. However, they fear that Rose didn't survive the explosion in the nursery."

"Explosion," Lily repeated in shock, "Nursery."

"But Harry is alive!" James said optimistically, "She must be hiding under the changing table or under that huge Bambi plush toy."

Minerva sadly shook her head. "It's unlikely that Rose is still in the house. Hagrid was ordered by Dumbledore to pick up both children. He was even tasked with taking the siblings to the Dursleys since Dumbledore believed you were dead..." Minerva received the message from the Potters a few hours ago that they would be waiting for their third child at St. Mungo's.

"Hagrid is a half-giant! It's easy to overlook a tiny baby," James said, still optimistic.

"Rose is missing, James," Minerva repeated sadly.

James slumped onto a chair, leaving Harry on the floor, and ran his hand desperately through his face and hair. Voldemort was defeated. His in-laws were dead, his son had a scar on his forehead, and his one-year-old daughter was missing.

"Where is Sirius?"

"The Aurors are looking for him - after all, he was the one who betrayed you," Minerva said, swallowing heavily. During their time at Hogwarts, she could have sworn that James and Sirius loved each other like brothers.

"No! It wasn't Sirius, it was Peter! Peter is... was our Secret-Keeper! We thought he was the perfect plan. No one would suspect Peter. It was that rat who betrayed us!" James angrily stood up from his seat, frightening his 3-year-old son, who immediately ran behind the old witch. Lily only half-understood all of this. She still held the little bundle on her chest. Just a few minutes ago, she was looking forward to the arrival of her third child, but now she felt an inner emptiness.

"I'll pass on the information immediately," Minerva said, "I know the timing is unfortunate, but congratulations on the birth of your child. I believe this little being has saved your lives. You wouldn't have stood a chance against him, be it Muggle or wizard. What will his or her name be?"

Only now did the young parents come back to reality. They had an unnamed newborn for less than an hour. Now, Harry also came out from behind Minerva, trotted to his mother's bed, where James lifted him onto the mattress. This way, Harry could get a better look at his new sibling.

"This is your little brother, Harry," James explained.

"Charlus Evan Potter," Lily confirmed the name of their second son for the first time. Initially, they considered Fleamont, James's father, but the name didn't convince them. James told her about a distant relative named Charlus Potter. Since Charlus never had children, his wealth passed on to James, allowing the young parents to take care of the children and the resistance instead of working. The name Evan was in memory of their recently deceased parents.

"Hello, Charlie," Harry smiled and gently patted the tiny hand of his brother, "I'm your big brother, Harry. You have a big sister too, my little sister Rosie, but Rosie isn't here yet."

Read the whole story on Fanfiction.net, Wattpad and Ao3

[naughtsonidhi]

Adiós hermoso viaje!

Well, here we are about to finish another 365 days, 5 hours and 59 minutes on Earth. Congratulations! for triumphantly eating and excreting, great job you mortal creatures, keep going y'all.. aight chill I'm not going to start ranting about my philosophical frustration (I'll save it for next time). I'm here to tell you that I'm equally glad too, this year was perhaps like a blessing in disguise.

When the year started, I made few terrible and good resolutions, lets keep the terrible ones aside and go through the good one (Yup, there's only one), I planned to finish reading one book per month, and let me tell you about some of them, also please note that I'm no Bill Gates, I am not trying to tell you that you should read them too, the only reason I want to share about them cause I am kind of overwhelmed by how I stumbled upon these good books.

Homo Deus by Yuval Noah Harari : I read 'Sapiens' last year and was blown by the history and evolution that Harari explained to my naïve mind, but this one slapped my leftist beliefs, he articulately brought a bigger picture of human civilization, right from religions to politics, Harari fed me so much of perspective.

The Prophet by Khalil Gibran : I remember reading this one in almost two days cause it was short. I wasn't amused though, it was poetic and full of wisdom but I couldn't consume enough or was very rigid to grasp his simple writing.

The Old Man and The Sea by Ernst Hemingway : Hemingway was long due on my reading list, finally had my hands and mind on it, good story but I felt I was too old for fictions.

The Myth of Sisyphus by Albert Camus : I can keep talking about Camus all day but for now lets keep it short, so this one was a gift to myself last year, it took three damn attempts to reach the actual essay of 4 pages, Camus gave me hard time with all the details he connoted on philosophical suicide, but since then I've managed to imagine Sisyphus happy.

21 Lessons for 21st Century by Yuval Noah Harari : I bought a cheap original hardcover book, and damnson! it was totally worth it, Harari questions everything, morality, faith, future and our actions and he does it so gracefully. Also, I feel so proud for keeping up with all 3 major works.

Treads : A poetry book from Surat's Moonstruck Café, a soothing read. I don't know how I ended up being into poetry but poems are intricate way of expressing and poets are humans full of notions. This book had wonderful sketches and illustrations, felt like an ode for the eyes and heart.

The Almanack of Naval Ravikant by Eric Jorgenson : I must tell you, I was hell skeptical about this one, my homie and I had been to Kitab Khanna and he offered me to pick any book I like, it was on him, so like a crazy Camus fan, I searched the whole place for his work and was disappointed to hardly find any, so he ended up by picking this one, when I completed this one, it felt like a breakthrough of my life, it was truly good.

Free Will by Sam Harris : On my solo trip to Jaipur this year, I stayed at Zostel and I found this book in their shelf, although I had carried a book already in my bag I couldn't help my self from picking this one, I literally held my self from sleeping that night, I thought I could simply complete it before I left (which I did), so that I wouldn't have to buy it later (yeah so gujju of me). This one was a bit nerve opening (hah! if you know what I mean), the scenarios that Harris presents are unanswerable, we (humans) are truly complex in nature, also yes there is no free will biochemically.

The Power of your subconscious mind by Joseph Murphy : Back in 2019 my biological brother gifted me this one, I kept procrastinating to even start, I feel so stupid for not considering as a decent book, but this year I wanted to get it off my list, and when I did, it felt like a relief, it was like a band-aid on my scar and as I believe, better late than never. I am just glad I could finish it with an open mind.

So, yeah I'm only 9 (books) down this year, people often tell me I seem like a person who reads a lot, but that's barely true, I just attempt to, cause books give purpose, there is so much to learn, feel, and fathom. I was adamant on reading self help books and so far was engrossed with philosophical ones, but here I'm open to all of it out there, so this year even though I couldn't keep up my resolution of reading 12 books, I feel like I've still made it. I also tried reading Orwell's 1984 and Shakespeare's A Midsummer's night dream and even Julius Caesar but I put them down from halfway, maybe when the right time comes I would complete them.

So to all my homies who share, suggest and encourage me often. Right from reading Aeon essays together, to gifting me great books, letting me share books with a note on it (that's my absolute favorite thing to do), also, sharing articles, passages, quotes' and even standing by me when I buy books, I'm grateful that y'all exist. Also to someone who is probably living in minus 3 degrees, my muse for reading and my reading list is inspired by you, so if the universe can conspire my message, I'd thank you.

Its been a wonderful journey, each book has mended me, held me, questioned me and consciously changed me.

[whitephoenix81]

Okay guys, I have a theory/headcanon.

What if Harry's scar wasn't originally put there by Voldemort? What if it was Lily? Hear me out!

Imagine, Halloween, 1981. Lily had Harry up in his nursery. She prepared for this inevitable outcome. Being a prodigy in both Charms and Ancient Runes, she researched a ritual that would protect Harry from the monster currectly climbing the stairs.

She doesn't have much time. Not having her wand on her, she finds the sharpest object she could find, and pricks her finger. Using her blood, she draws the Norse symbol for "Sun" for "Soul", upon Harry's brow.

Telling her baby boy to be strong and safe. That she and daddy loves him no matter what. And then kissing the crown of his head. For what she knows is the last time, is the most difficult thing she's ever had to do.

Standing between the monster and her innocent baby, she willing, gladly, takes the killing curse. If it means that her little Bambi was safe.

As the breath leaves Lily Potter's body, her willing sacrifice, combined with her love for her son. And her blood, marking Harry's brow, sealed the spell. And Voldemort's fate.

For when he turned his wand on the baby in the crib. A baby, who no longer had blood on his forehead. As the same killing curse, that took away his parents flew towards him, Lily's sacrifice powered spell came to life. Lily's love for her son, combined with her blood, Harry blood. And the ancient magic that Lily had invoked, meant that Voldemort and his magic, couldn't touch him.

The dark and evil curse rebounded off of Harry, and struck the one who cast it. Hitting him, ten-fold. Leaving nothing behind but his wand.

However, because the curse is meant to attack a person's very soul. And Voldemort's soul was already frayed as it was, a piece sheared off of what was left of it. And because it could not survive without a host, it searched, and attached itself to the closest, and most magically viable object in the room. Harry.

As Lily's spell had only just been activated, and was still fresh and new. It attached itself like a leach. Turning what was beautiful, and full of love and hope. A sacrifice that lived in Harry's very skin.

And twisting it. Corrupting it, into something dark. Full of pain and misery.

Turning it, into a scar.

[tinyhistory]

It’s the first of September! The first day of spring, which is my least favourite season on account of its unpredictability.

Anyway, here’s a snippet of a fic request I’m currently filling for @stargazing-enby who submitted it two years ago aaaagh

The office is tucked away in the suburban sprawl of Bexley. It’s an old terrace townhouse; the original staircase, a hefty wooden beast, smells of furniture polish. The floorboards creak beneath Harry’s feet. The reception room is converted from the front parlour, and still has touches of the home that was once there: a lace doily over a dainty hall-table, and faded curtains framing the window. Harry glances at the wall, noticing the vintage brass light switch. This was once a Muggle home, then.

“May I help you?”

There’s an elderly witch he doesn’t recognise at the reception desk. She’s peering at him suspiciously over her spectacles, one hand resting on a typewriter which is furiously tapping out letters by itself.

Harry looks away from the typewriter. “Harry Potter. Here to see Malfoy.” It’s a little petty, he knows, but he won’t use Malfoy’s full title. Cursebreakers love that. They love the showmanship of it. The little flourishes of their wand (completely gratuitous), the dramatic pauses (unnecessary) and of course, their amazed and grateful customers (audiences; the only thing missing is the applause). It’s why Harry won’t see Levinson any more, or Sheldrake, or Vittily. It’s why he ditched Fromer after just one appointment, and why he left Clarkson’s office without even beginning the appointment. One glance into Clarkson’s delighted face — ooh, the great Harry Potter! What fantastic publicity for my little agency — and Harry had turned around and walked wordlessly out the door.

Now he waits for the usual reactions. But the witch doesn’t widen her eyes, or glance at his scar, or nervously smooth her robes. She just keeps squinting at him, and then she says, “Henry Potter…”

“Harry.”

“Harry.” She frowns. “Potter with a P?”

Harry can’t imagine what other letter Potter might begin with: he pauses, then says, “Erm. Yes.”

She picks slowly through a little wooden box filled with small white cards. “Ah. Here you are. Eleven o’clock?”

“That’s right.”

She puts a neat little tick onto the card and then moves it to another box. “Take a seat. Tea and coffee’s across the hallway.”

He sits down on one of the straight-backed wooden chairs next to the dainty hall table. There’s a little magazine rack nearby, with very well-worn copies of Cosy Homes for Country Witches and Enchanting Gardens of Magical Britain. Once Harry thumbs through them and then finds a copy of Knitting Patterns for Thrifty Witches, he begins suspecting the collection has been generously donated by the elderly receptionist. He glances up at her, then at the grandfather clock standing ponderously by the door. It’s only been fifteen minutes, but perhaps Malfoy is sitting somewhere in a comfortable office, laughing at the fact he’s keeping Harry waiting.

The receptionist speaks then, as if sensing his thoughts. “Mr Potter? Mr Malfoy will see you now. Directly up the stairs, second door on the left.”

Harry dutifully goes upstairs. There’s a narrow hallway with a window at the end of it, showing a rather unspectacular view over the grey rooftops of Bexley. He passes by the first door, which looks like a cleaning closet, and then stops at the second.

D. Malfoy

5th Order HCJ (DefM)

Cert HM (C. II)

It’s a faded set of letters printed upon the frosted glass pane. The dark-blue paint of the door is beginning to slowly flake away. Harry’s annoyed, though he can’t pinpoint why. All the other cursebreakers he’s visited have had their name, bright and glossy, upon their doors, with CURSEBREAKER emblazoned in large letters below. They love that word. It’s exciting. Full of action and danger. Curse, and breaker. Destruction and glittering shards. Smashing spells to pieces and then getting called a hero for it. Of course Malfoy would love to call himself cursebreaker.

But instead Harry’s left to decipher 5th Order HCJ (DefM) and Cert. HM, C. II.

The door swings open suddenly, leaving Harry blinking at Draco Malfoy’s face. He’s seen him around in the years following the war — it’s hard not to, really, with the magic community as small as it is — but always a distant glimpse of a blond-haired man disappearing into a shop, or waiting for one of the elevators at the Ministry (and despite Harry firmly telling himself he’d outgrown schoolyard scuffles, he’d always elected to choose a different elevator instead).

Now, however, an awkward meeting seems inevitable.

Malfoy looks down his long nose at Harry and says, “Take a seat.”

Harry won’t give him the satisfaction of pausing. He walks into the office and sits down in the nearest chair; a squeaky relic from the seventies, by the look of the avocado-coloured vinyl and slightly rusted metal legs.

Malfoy closes the door and then sits at his desk, ignoring Harry and picking up a file instead. Harry had expected the cold shoulder, and anyway, it gives him time to look around. He’s been in plenty of cursebreaker offices. Large and grand affairs, with ceiling-length windows and bookcases lined with rare tomes, and little gold name-plates on solid-oak desks. And the trophies, of course. Cursed jewellery glittering in the sunlight. Beautiful dresses stained with unicorn blood. Portraits of subjects which whisper just too quietly to decipher the words.

But Malfoy’s office is small and neat and efficient as a Ministry cubicle. There’s two framed certificates on the wall, which give Harry his answer to the riddle on the door — Fifth Order of Defensive Magic specialising in Hexes, Curses, and Jinxes, and Certificate of Healing Magic, Class II. There’s no grand bookcase, but instead a simple row of tattered texts on a shelf above the desk. A filing cabinet, grey and mildly threatening, sits in the corner.

Malfoy says, without looking up from the file, “You’re here today because…” He turns a page, “…you’re not very good at your job.”

“What?” Harry asks incredulously.

Malfoy does look up then. His expression is blandly polite, which somehow only makes Harry more angry. “You don’t currently fill the criteria of your role as an Auror. Is that correct?”

“No, that’s not correct. I’m a fully qualified Auror — ”

“Says here,” Malfoy says, looking down at the page again, “That your supervisor has referred you here on the basis that…” He taps his finger against a line of spindly writing. “Let’s see… ‘Auror Potter requires further training in sensing areas of concentrated magic.’ Says last December, you walked directly into a ward and set off a Caterwauling Charm, which compromised the entire operation.”

“What? Well - what it doesn’t mention is that the ward was very well-hidden in a staircase — ”

“And in February, you tripped a jinx when you opened a door during another operation, which resulted in several minor injuries.”

“Yes, but it was — ”

Malfoy turns a page, somehow managing to do it loudly. The rasp of paper cuts through the air. “February again. Declared a room cleared when in fact it was still armed with a Severing Curse. Your partner suffered a significant injury.”

Harry looks away. That had been a particularly difficult incident, and the guilt still lingers. “I could’ve sworn that room was — ”

“March. Picked up a cursed wand, resulting in moderate burns.”

“I had to, I was trying to disarm — ”

“Which brings us to April,” Malfoy says, closing the file. The pages flutter shut. “Ran straight through a basic security ward, shattering it. Minor injuries sustained.” He finally looks up, his expression indecipherable. “Anything you care to add to these notes?”

“I do my job,” Harry snaps. “And I do it well.”

“Mm,” Malfoy says, and it’s maddening exactly how much condescension he manages to fit into a single syllable. “Well, that particular judgment is up to me, isn’t it?”

[saintlike78]

Ok so... I have a little request : Bill is not with Fleur, but he meets Harry's cousin (Dudley's sister, who is the complete opposite of her family and loves Harry as her own brother) and she arouses his interest, and from here you can continue as you wish, if you could do a little smut if you are comfortable.🤗🤗🤗

I know Dudley doesn't have a sister, but I like the idea. And sorry for the mistakes, but I don't speak English so well.

Never seen anyone like you [B.W.]

A/N: Thank you so much for your request! I’m so sorry for the long wait, but I loved this idea so much, but I just didn’t know which direction to go with it, but I hope you like what I came up with. Reader is the same age as the twins and is also a muggle. This is also kinda paired with another request, where the person just wanted a Bill Weasley smut, which is also included.

Pairings: Bill Weasley x Fem! Muggle! Reader

Words: 3.6k

Warnings: NSFW 16+, vaginal sex, fingering, unprotected sex, age gap (7 years), mention of death, mention of nightmares, mention of injury.

The wind hit your back and made a chill run up your spine, making you shiver. Standing in the driveway of nr. 4 Privet Drive, you and Harry were watching your mother, father and brother leave because of the wizarding war threatening their safety. Your mother had tried but failed to get you to leave as well, but you couldn’t imagine leaving Harry behind and not being able to be there for him and to protect him, even if you had no magic yourself.

You had always loved Harry and saw him as a closer family than your actual family. You never understood what the problem was with him or why your family seemed to despise him so much, that was until he got his letter and he left for Hogwarts. You were so happy for him, but not being able to see him and only during the summer was tough because without Harry there to take all the slander from the Dursleys you, unfortunately, became the family's punching bag. When you turned 18 and finally moved out, you let Harry stay with you in your flat instead of going home to your family.

The house seemed eerie with only you and Harry and no future. You sat on the kitchen counter, Harry was pacing around the kitchen whilst you were waiting for the order to come and transport you both.

“Are you sure you want to do this? It’s not too late to leave and go into hiding yourself,” Harry said looking at you with worry.

“I’m sure, Harry, I want to be here with you and make sure you’re alright.”

A knock sounded on the door and you jumped down from the counter, following Harry to the door. Harry opened the door and inside stepped many familiar faces and some you hadn’t seen before. Having had Harry stay with you, you had met all the Weasleys (except for Charlie and Bill), when you had gone to visit The Burrow.

They all stepped inside one at a time and greeted you. The twins had made a huge show about picking you up and spinning you around telling you how much they had missed their ‘favorite muggle’, you slapped both their arms lightly and let them pass you. The last two people to enter was Arthur Weasley who you greeted, and one person you hadn’t met before. He had red hair, letting you know he was a Weasley as well, he was tall and had scars running down his face like Remus Lupin. You were almost at a loss for words when he stepped inside, your mind completely blank after looking at how handsome he was. You could already feel a little crush starting to form and you got butterflies when he made his way to you and stuck out his hand for you to shake.

“I’m Bill Weasley, a pleasure to meet you, at last, my family has told me much about you.” He said as you shook his hand. “Y/N Dursley, lovely to meet you too,” you said knowing you should be letting his hand go, but letting it linger a little longer.

You both just stared at each other, completely forgetting where you were and that you had things to do. That was until Fred and George came up on either side of you, each placing a hand on each of your shoulders, prompting you to let go of Bill’s hand.

“Well, now you’re just missing Charlie and then you’ve met the whole Weasley-clan,” Fred said with a laugh.

You just laughed and nodded your head.

“I’m going to go find Harry,” you quickly smiled at Bill and got out of the twin’s grasp, leaving them alone with Bill in the hallway.

“Blimey, why did none of you tell me!” Bill exclaimed in a low voice.

“Tell you what?” the twins said in synch.

“Tell me about Y/N,” he said as if his statement was obvious.

“We did, we said she was really nice and that she came round the shop and by the house a couple of times,” George said, still not really understanding what their brother meant.

“Yes, you said she was nice, but you didn’t tell me she looked like that.”

Both Fred and George let out a laugh, “Well mate, we didn’t think it was important to say that she doesn’t look like the other Dursleys.”

Bill hmphed like a child, “you could have told me. She’s the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen.”

“Alright alright, calm down Bill,” Fred laughed.

“But if you must know… she’s the same age as us, so a bit young for you eh? But she’s also single, from what we’ve gathered,” George informed their brother.

Bill just nodded and was about to ask more about you, but Moody’s voice was heard from the lounge telling everyone to gather around.

Entering the lounge, Bill spotted you and came to stand beside you, but slightly behind you. You felt his presence and turned your head slightly to give him a smile, one that he returned.

Moody briefed you all on what was going to happen, not without an objection from Harry. When Moody told everyone that he wanted there to be seven Harrys’, you had volunteered, since you felt kind of useless, being a muggle and all. This also didn’t go over well with Harry, telling you that this was out of the question, but you being just as stubborn as he would not let him talk you out of it. You told him that you wanted to help and that this was the only way for you to help with this situation.

After much convincing from not only you but everyone, he finally agreed.

“Alright, all the Harrys’ have a companion to ride with except for you Y/N.. you can ride with Bill,” Moddy informed you.

You nodded and felt a hand fall on your shoulder and giving it a squeeze. You looked back at Bill, whose hand it was, and smiled again. He kept his hand on your shoulder as a form of comfort and encouragement, squeezing once in a while. You could feel the butterflies swarming around in your stomach and you felt all warm and tingly all over, just because of his small touch.

Not long after, you were clinging on to Bill as you made your way to The Burrow. You didn’t know what you were thinking volunteering, since you couldn’t really protect yourself against the swarm of death eaters that followed you through the sky. Bill was trying his best to steer and fight back against them all. Moody was trying to shield you from the other side, but then suddenly a green spark hit him, and he tumbled towards the ground.

You let out a scream and buried your head into Bill’s back.

“Don’t worry, the worst part is over, we’ll be there soon,” Bill shouted against the wind so you would be able to hear him.

Arriving at The Burrow you were met by Molly attacking both you and Bill with a gigantic hug.

“Are you alright?” she asked looking between Bill and yourself.

“We’re alright mum, but Alastor… he didn’t make it,” Bill said looking down.

You put a hand on his back, slowly rubbing up and down trying to soothe him. You knew everyone was close with Moody and that his death would hurt the Order.

“How is everyone?” You asked Molly, hoping she would bring you some sort of good news.

“We’re still missing Fred and Arthur, but it would be best for you to come with me inside… George was hurt, he’ll be fine, but I need to keep an eye on him,” Molly informed you both.

___________________________

You were startled awake by the image of Alastor crashing towards the ground. You were trying to catch your breath, your hands shaky and sweat running down your back. You decided you needed a glass of water and perhaps some fresh air to calm down. You quietly got out of your makeshift bed on the floor and tried your best not to wake Ginny and Hermione, as you made your way out of the bedroom and down the creaky stairs towards the kitchen.

The cold water slid down your throat and you instantly felt better, but you still needed some air. You quietly opened the door to the garden and walked outside, the cool summer air instantly lowering your body temperature and relaxing you. Finding a nice spot, you sat upon the grass looking up at the stars, you hoped everything would turn out alright, but you weren’t so sure with how intense everything had been last night and that was just a tiny mission. Your head raced with millions of thoughts you didn’t notice the scar-faced ginger looking at you from the door and making his way over to you when he noticed the number of clothes (or rather lack thereof) you were wearing.

“Are you alright?” he asked quietly as to not startle you with his presence.

You looked up at him and nodded. You patted the spot beside you, indicating for him to sit.

You couldn’t help but admire how handsome he looked in the moonlight, even if he was just wearing some casual plaid pajama pants and a knitted jumper, which you could tell was a Molly original.

You sat in silence as you both stared at the moon, the cool air having finally cooled you down, your temperature was now a bit too low, and you could feel goosebumps rise on your bare arms and legs. Bill who had been watching you making sure you were comfortable quickly removed the knitted jumper and handed it to you.

“Here, you’ll get ill if you don’t warm-up,” he said and you didn’t argue, pulling the jumper over your head. It smelled good and was already warm from leftover body heat from Bill, which made your stomach do a flip and fill with butterflies.

“Thank you,” you said with a smile, “please tell me if you get cold and want your jumper back.”

“No problem, and it’s fine, I don’t really get cold,” Bill said.

Putting his hands behind his head, he laid down looking up at the stars. Your eyes were instantly drawn to the way his muscles flexed in the grey t-shirt he had worn underneath the jumper. Your mouth watered a little, but you quickly pulled yourself together and laid down as well.

You laid in silence and looked at the stars, it wasn’t awkward or uncomfortable, it was like you had known him your whole life, it felt so right.

A couple of minutes passed before Bill broke the silence.

“Why’d you decide to go with Harry instead of your family?”

You were a little taken aback by the bluntness of the question, but nevertheless answered quickly, not needing time to think about your answer.

“Harry is my family, and I couldn’t just leave him, especially now… I want to be there for him, even though I’m just a muggle, I..I’m going to be there until this war is over.”

Bill nodded turning his head towards yours, your head already turned towards him meeting his eyes. Your breath caught in your throat when you realized how close your face was to his, the way his eyes flicked between your eyes and your lips made your stomach do flips. Suddenly he started leaning in, “I know this is very sudden, but may I kiss you?” Bill said lowly, almost a whisper.

You nodded and leaned in the rest of the way connecting your lips with his. You knew it was so cliché, but you felt instant sparks of electricity shooting through your entire body.

The kiss was slow and gentle, but then you felt Bill’s tongue on your bottom lip asking for permission to enter your mouth, which you granted. He leaned upon one of his arms, so he was above you, his free arm cupping your cheek and keeping your face towards his.

This went on for a while, but begrudgingly you pulled apart for air.

You stared at each other, both taking deep breaths trying to regain a normal breathing pattern.

“wow,” Bill sighed out, “you are unbelievably beautiful.”

Your cheeks turned red with the heat of the blush settling on your face.

“Thank you,” you whispered and reached a hand up to caress his cheek.

You ended up talking until the sun rose on the horizon, the morning dew settling on the grass, making everything damp.

Your head was on Bill’s chest, hugging him to keep warm, but also just to be close to him.

“You don’t think I’m too old do you?” Bill asked, gently stroking your back.

Your headshot up from his chest to look into his eyes, “of course not,” you laughed and shook your head, laying it down again. Bill just chuckled and mumbled “alright.”

___________________________

You ran across the lawn as the black smoke figures landed around you. You tried to find Harry or Bill.

One of the figures shot a spell towards you and you ducked and covered your face, even though you knew that wouldn’t help. You waited for an impact, but it never came, instead, you were yanked by your arm into a broad chest. You looked up and saw Bill already looking at you, a concerned look on his face.

“Okay get ready, love,” he said quickly.

You didn’t get a chance to ask for what before the air was knocked out of you and the world spun around you.

You landed with a ‘thump’, eyes closed, still holding on tightly to Bill, afraid you were going to be sick.

“It’s alright now, you can open your eyes now,” Bill said quietly.

You opened your eyes, and you were met with the bright sun shining down on you. The light breeze caught in your hair and the smell of the ocean met your nose.

You looked around, the ocean was in front of you, and behind you was old, but cozy-looking, cottage.

“Where are we?” you asked, still not letting go of Bill.

“Shell cottage, it’s my family’s place… I took us here because we’ll be safe here,” Bill explained.

You nodded, but the relief was quickly replaced by worry and fear.

“But what about Harry and the others? They’re not here!” you rushed out, also leaving Bill’s arms to pace in front of him.

He pulled you back and pushed a strand of hair out of your face.

“The rest of the family is fine. Harry, Ron, and Hermione all went somewhere, where I’m not sure, but Ron promised he would let us know that they’re safe.”

You sighed out, still very concerned, but relieved that you were safe and hoped that Harry would be as well.

“Let’s go inside, love,” Bill whispered, taking your hand and leading you inside.

He first showed you around the house and then showed you to your room and let you freshen up or take a nap, just letting you calm down in your own space.

___________________________

You were startled awake by the images that played behind your closed eyes. You focused on the room, the moonlight bleeding in through the window, lighting up a part of the floor.

Your breathing was heavy, and your body was sweaty.

You tried to calm down for about 10 minutes, but you just couldn’t find a peaceful enough state to let yourself go back to sleep.

Your feet hit the cold floor and the wood creaked beneath your feet. You made your way out of your room and across the small hallway to where Bill had let you know his room was.

You opened the door slowly, peeking inside.

Inside you were met with a sleeping Bill, his shirtless figure on his back. You closed the door behind you and tip-toed your way over to his bed.

“Bill,” you whispered, already feeling guilty for disturbing him.

He stirred a little, not opening his eyes, but letting out a little “hmm?”, indicating that he was awake enough to hear you.

“I can’t sleep,” you mumbled shyly.

He didn’t say anything further, he only moved his blanket to the side and opened his arms for you to crawl into. You didn’t hesitate before crawling into the bed and curling up close to his body, already feeling calmed by his steady breathing.

“thank you,” you whispered, breathing in his calming scent.

He wrapped his arms around you and held you close, you could feel his breathing even out and you knew he had drifted off again.

You closed your eyes and listened to the steady beating of his heart, lulling you back to sleep.

You woke up, your entire body warm from being wrapped up in Bill’s arms. Your legs tangled with his, his arms still holding you tightly against him.

You looked at his calm sleeping face, you felt so at home with him, and you let out a content sigh.

“I can feel you staring, you know,” Bill said, startling you.

“I’m not staring,” you fired back too quickly to sound convincing, causing Bill to slightly smirk.

“Whatever you say, darling,” he said and hugged you closer.

He opened his eyes, looking over your face and smiling.

Bill leaned in and pecked your lips slightly, gauging your reaction. You just smiled and leaned in again kissing him longer.

Bill deepened the kiss, moving so he was above you. You spread your legs slightly allowing him to get between them on top of you. The kiss turned more passionate and heated as Bill slowly ground his hips into yours, causing you to softly moan into his mouth.

Bill broke the kiss and looked into your eyes, “Is this okay? Do you want this?”.

You whimpered slightly, “please Bill, I want it.”

Bill let out a groan at your words and reconnected your lips, hips grinding into your own.

The small whines and whimpers that left your lips egged him on and went straight to his cock.

Bill reached one hand between you feeling your wetness through your panties. “So wet for me and I haven’t properly touched you yet.”

You whined at his words, craving more of his touch.

“what is it you want, pretty girl?” he asked, teasing you.

“please touch me, Bill,” you whimpered out, eyes big and begging.

“Such a good girl,” he praised before moving your panties to the side and finding your clit drawing slow circles on the nub.

You moaned at the feeling and grabbed his arm that wasn’t working on you.

His fingers moved down, and he slowly pushed a finger into you causing you to let out a small gasp.

“I just need to get you ready for me,” Bill said softly, leaning down to kiss your forehead. He then added a second finger, creating a delicious feeling because of the slight stretch. Bill used his thumb to rub your clit bringing you closer to your release.

He curled and scissored his fingers making you clench around his fingers, Bill’s lips curled up into a slight grin.

“Cum for me, my beautiful girl.”

His words made the coil in your belly snap and you came on his fingers as you shook and closed your eyes in pleasure. You were panting as Bill worked you through your orgasm. He removed his fingers and brought them up to his lips sucking them clean and releasing them with a ‘pop’.

“absolutely divine.”

He made haste work of removing your panties and the shirt you had slept in, as well as his own boxers.

When you were both completely naked, he stroked his cock a couple of times before running it through your folds to gather your arousal as a lubricant. Bill slowly started pushing into you and you both released simultaneous gasps at the feeling. He pushed all the way in and bottomed out in you but didn’t move as he waited for you to adjust.

“I’m okay, you can move,” you said and moaned when he pulled back his hips and snapped them back into yours, and set a steady and pleasurable pace.

Leaning down so your chests were pressed together, he sloppily kissed you drinking up all the moans that spilled from your mouth to his.

He broke the kiss and leaned up slightly to snake a hand between your bodies to rub your swollen clit. You didn’t have time to process before you came for the second time that morning. Your whole body shook, and your legs tightened around Bill’s hips.

“Such a pretty sight… think you can take one more?” Bill panted out.

You whimpered and nodded.

“Ah, use your words angel.”

“Yes, Bill, I can take another,” you moaned out as he kept pounding into your sensitive cunt.

“Good girl,” Bill said as he pulled out of you and laying himself down, guiding you by your hips to straddle him.

He positioned you above his cock and guided it into you again.

“There you go, my pretty baby, go own ride me,” Bill encouraged, and you wasted no time in obeying him.

You rocked your hips, circled them, and bounced on him until you felt yourself nearing another release and you moaned loudly.

Bill’s hand found your clit again and rubbed it until your knees quivered as you came again.

When you had finished, Bill grabbed your hips and angled you so he could fuck up into you, chasing his own release.

Not long after, his thrusts faltered, and he stilled as he emptied himself in you.

You collapsed onto his chest trying to catch your breath. Bill rubbed your back slowly, before pulling out of you causing a whimper to fall from your lips.

“You did so well,” Bill praised, kissing your forehead.

“I’m never going to let you go, my pretty girl.”

[nuatthebeach]

hey, for the OTP ask game, i would love to hear your answers on every question, but especially on this four: 22, 26, 30, 51. thank you! 😄

 Brace yourself, 'cause this is a long one.

22. What reminds each other of their partner?

For Harry, Lavender flowers, like the ones that perfume her hair. Every time he sees one during the summer while walking across the garden, he plucks it out to give to her later because that's just the kind of unexpected sap that he is. Also, when he sees a stray, cute kitten and he knows that she would absolutely gush over it, and - well, would you look at that, he's already petting and carrying it home with him because Ginny is going to lose her fucking mind over it. Also, whenever he hears a really funny joke, and he thinks he can't wait to tell Ginny. Also, anytime someone mentions anything to do with Quidditch, but that's kind of a given. Also, anytime he sees the color red because he always thinks that it will always be a worser shade than the sunset glory that is his beautiful wife's hair.

For Ginny, chocolate oranges, chocolate frogs, and chocolate eggs all do the trick because...let's not pretend that chocolate is not a paid actor in their relationship in Order of the Phoenix. When Ginny makes scrambled eggs in the morning, she always wishes that Harry had made it instead because his are always better and Merlin, when is he coming back from that damn mission, I hope he is okay. Every time Ginny looks into the green of Albus's eyes, she's fondly reminded of the fact they match his father's fresh pickled toad hue exactly. When she sees a lightening bolt in the sky and can't wait to take the piss with Harry for having a scar that's less intimidating than the one with an origin of something as nerdy as electric discharge.

26. What are their vices?

Hmmm, I assume you're asking for their relationship weaknesses? Because vice typically implies immorality in most - not all - cases, and I don't know if they would do any of those to an extent. (It’s also three in the morning as I’m writing this so it’s a possibility that I’m being really slow right now lol.) Though I suppose you could say lust and pride, but in healthy doses.

Otherwise, their relationship weaknesses could be just learning how to manage their anger during fights. I've said this before, but they're very passionate people, and while they may not fight over tiny things like Hermione and Ron, they can definitely blow up over large things that build up overtime. Like, Ginny will forget to do the dishes or leave their area messy and Harry doesn't say anything for a while, but it's clear it becomes a big thing later on. Or, when Harry works overtime and Ginny keeps trying to let him be a noble git just like old times until she comes to terms with the fact that it's not like old times and he needs to see that.

I can imagine that they slowly but surely start coming up with strategies. "Obviously, we're both angry about this. How about we set up a time to talk about this tomorrow at 7 pm? That way we can prepare ourselves with what we want to say and be willing to hear the other out in a less defensive way." They may not word it exactly like this, but you get the idea.

It takes a lot of effort and practice, but they're Harry and Ginny. They make it work, always. And it helps that the make-up sex afterward serves as reinforcement to keep learning from their mistakes, too.

31. Your OTP gets to pick out each other's outfits; what is each wearing?

Ooooo okay, so what they would wear and what they would dress the other as are two different things. (I apologize if I disappoint, I'm aware that the wrong clothing choice can trigger some people lmao).

I’m going to try to keep all of these 90s/00s appropriate.

For one, if anything from the movies are true (and we laugh and laugh and laugh), Ginny would absolutely burn that gd flannel, blue shirt, and adidas rip-off jacket that Harry wears in all eight of them. She'd probably style him in one of those early 2000s rugby shirts? Like the ones from Ambercrombie or American Eagle (assuming they'd shop in America anyways, which again, we laugh and laugh). Or maybe a leather biker jacket if we're talking 90s. It would be a nostalgic resemblance to Sirius, as of course, we all know that he had a motorbike. Faded gray jeans and converse shoes are a must though because they're pretty much staple lanky boy tingz. I can also honestly see Ginny making him wear a turtleneck too when it's cold...and we all know he'd look super fit in it during his Auror years.

As for Ginny, she probably wore overalls occasionally while doing barn work at the Burrow, hoop earrings for special occasions, and those 90s choker necklaces. She doesn't wear powder, wearing her freckles proudly instead, but she absolutely loves a good mascara that brings out the amber in her eyes and will dab into some lip gloss to feel girly or even some lipstick - red, to match her hair - when she's older. She is a huge fan of crop tops and oversized flannels (when worn right) and ripped shorts and combat boots as a teenager, but when she's older, I can see her being a big fan of mini skirts (Harry's a big fan too) and low-rise jeans and tote bags and high ponytails in her 20s while wearing a bomber jacket every now and then to remind people of her sporty nature. Oooo and graphic tees too. Ooo ooo and she likes wearing a bunch of those thin early 00s scarves. Like, I mean a bunch. And Harry would really enjoy unraveling them too.

How would he dress her? Tbh, he has kind of shit taste in fashion, let alone woman's fashion, so he'd probably say/think something cheeky, like, "she looks fine in anything, really" or even "she'd look great in nothing at all" if it's just him and Ginny, partly because he's too lazy to think about woman's fashion too deeply, but if he does, then he'd probably get her a sundress with an adorable oversized hat (ever the protector of her, he is, even from the Sun) and bright white sneakers to go on a picnic with him. He surprises even himself with his more than adequate choice.

Of course, they're wizards/witches, so they'd hardly wear muggle clothes anyway, but this is just for funsies.

51. What’s a non verbal way they say I love you?

Already answered! The response is here.

[alastorseye]

About Remadora

When I say I really hate the HP fandom, I'm talking about the "fans" that hate everything about the saga, but still having Harry Potter accounts. They change the original story, claim that fanonical facts are canon, and launch hatred and death threats at those who simply like HARRY POTTER JUST THE WAY IT IS. Yes, I'm mostly talking about Marauders fans, which I joined after reading the books because I thought it would be interesting and funny. I suddenly realized how toxic and hateful that fandom was, it's like a cult dedicated to deifying Remus, Sirius, James and Regulus, and it seems that hating Snape, Dumbledore, and Remadora is a requirement to be a part of it.

At the beginning I used to consider Wolfstar as something funny, a bromance, it never bothered me, I mean... every fandom has fanon ships and I respect that, but the way they always hate Remadora and their shippers is something that MUST stop.

"You see!" said a strained voice. Tonks was glaring at Lupin. "She still wants to marry him, even though he's been bitten! She doesn't care!"

"It's different," said Lupin, barely moving his lips and looking suddenly tense. "Bill will not be a full werewolf. The cases are completely -"

"But I don't care either, I don't care!" said Tonks, seizing the front ofLupin's robes and shaking them. "I've told you a million times. . . ." And the meaning of Tonks's Patronus and her mouse-colored hair, and the reason she had come running to find Dumbledore when she had heard a rumor someone had been attacked by Greyback, all suddenly became clear to Harry; it had not been Sirius that Tonks had fallen in love with after all."

"And I've told you a million times," said Lupin, refusing to meet her eyes,staring at the floor, "that I am too old for you, too poor . . . too dangerous. . ."

When I read this part of the HBP I realized that Remadora was my favorite Harry Potter ship. Of course I wasn't aware of the death threats I'd receive later. I've read some "reasons" why some fans hate Remadora.

"Tonks forced him!"

We all know how insecure Remus was. I don't have to explain what's written in Wizarding World (Pottermore). This is the Remus bio:

Well, we can read that Remus was really attracted to Dora.

"Remus, so often melancholy and lonely, was first amused, then impressed, then seriously smitten by the young witch. He had never fallen in love before. If it had happened in peacetime, Remus would have simply taken himself off to a new place and a new job, so that he did not have to endure the pain of watching Tonks fall in love with a handsome, young wizard in the Auror office, which was what he expected to happen. However, this was war; they were both needed in the Order of the Phoenix, and nobody knew what the next day would bring. Remus felt justified in remaining exactly where he was, keeping his feelings to himself but secretly rejoicing every time somebody paired him with Tonks on some overnight mission".

This is so sad and cute, and that's undeniable. I cried when I read it. If someone still thinking that Dora forced Remus to marry her after reading this paragraph... I mean... they're probably talking about another book series.

"The age gap!"

I'm so satisfied to know that some Remadora shippers have explained this. When it's about a kid and an adult... OF COURSE IS HORRENDOUS! Because children are not physically and mentally prepared to have romantic relationships. Wizards are legally adults at 17, REMUS MET TONKS WHEN SHE WAS 21!

I mean, many old people abuses of young people innocence, or something. But we all know that Remus wasn't one of those! He really loved Tonks, and that's canon. I don't know what's doing in the fandom people who denies canon facts.

Remus and Tonks were two physically, mentally, and legally adults loving each other.

"Remus didn't love her!"

He was an introvert, Tonks was an extrovert, she made his life better. And of course, I loved the way he introduced himself when he was trying to prove he wasn't a Death Eater:

"I am Remus John Lupin, werewolf, sometimes known as Moony, one of the four creators of the Marauder's Map, married to Nymphadora, usually known as Tonks, and I taught you how to produce a Patronus, Harry, which takes the form of a stag." (Remus Lupin, DH)

Maybe I'm not the only one who perceive he was proud to be Nymphadora Tonks husband.

"I.. I made a grave mistake in marrying Tonks. I did it against my better judgment and have regretted it very much every since". (Remus Lupin, DH)

This phrase makes more sense after reading Remus bio. He used to think that he was "too poor, too dangerous" for her. He thought he wasn't enough for her. He never imagined that she would love him back. He was a werewolf, and of course he knew he was dangerous, you only need to be emphatic to realize he tried to get away from Tonks because he loved her, he didn't want to hurt his beloved woman!

If you don't believe me, read this again. It's in the chapter 11 of Deathly Hallows:

"Don't you understand what I've done to my wife and my unborn child? I should never have married her, I've made her an outcast!"

So, if Remus was trying to escape it's because he loved them, he thought he spoiled their lives. And of course, no one likes to feel that their influence is bad for someone they love!

"Their relationship came from nowhere! They don't have a development"

Well, the saga's name is HARRY POTTER, not The Love Life of Remus Lupin. The story is about the tragic life of this kid and everything he went through to save the world of a cruel and dark villain. I know many readers are young people in love, and they only want to ship everything, but that's not the main topic here, maybe mother's love would be the topic. Of course Ron and Hermione had a development because they were HARRY'S BEST FRIENDS, and they were always with him, from Philosopher's Stone to Cursed Child. Remus and Tonks are minor characters, and it's funny the fact that this usually comes from Wolfstar shippers, so... is Wolfstar more developed than Remadora?! I mean... they can ship whatever they want, Snape and the Sorting Hat, Dobby and Voldemort, anything, but that does not give them the right to disrespect such a cute, tragic and beautiful canon ship as Remadora.

"They are queercoded! Their relationship is homophobic!"

It's surprising to hear this. It's like... people gets angry just because the author doesn't make queer their favourite characters? I will explain why I don't think Remus and Tonks are "queercoded":

Whether through their dress, their behavior, their language, or other subtle forms of implication, queer characters were written or designed to communicate their unstated queerness to those who were searching for representation.

And this is the definition on the website Pride.com:

"Using LGBTQIA tropes and stereotypes to allude to a character's sexuality without explicitly confirming it in the text."

We all know that Disney used queercoding on characters like Ursula, Scar, Jaffar. And why do we know that? Because DISNEY WANTED TO PORTRAY THEM LIKE THAT, get it? Disney, THE CREATORS MADE THESE CHARACTERS INTENTIONALLY QUEER. How? BASED ON STEREOTYPES.

And going back to Remadora, I was really happy to see by first time a bada*ass woman, with short hair who wasn't portrayed as a lesbian just because the way she looks. This character didn't follow the: "Straight women have long hair and are girly", and "short dyied hair is for lesbians". I'm very very very surprised the fandom follows these stereotypes.

About Remus: I don't know how the phrase "being a werewolf is a metaphor about people with HIV AIDS" means "he's gay". Fenrir Greyback bit him when he was a kid. Many people interpret this as "r4pe". Okay, even thinking that it is the meaning of the "bite", I still cannot understand how being "r4ped" and "infected" makes him queer. Is this (again) a stereotype about people with AIDS and gay?

"JK Rowling created Remadora because she didn't like people shipping Wolfstar!"

It is true that fans love shipping everything, they queerbait and queercode everything. That's great, that's not the problem. The problem is when people starts bashing fans who ship canon straight couples. A very good example is the polemic on Falcon and Bucky relationship, some fans wanted them to be a gay couple, Anthony Mackie said that two men can only be friends, and there is no need to always give them a romantic connotation. People cancelled him, they called him homophobic. Yes, just because a person with authority (on the story they're following") didn't like the fact of queercoding their favourite characters. It's the same about Remadora.

Grindeldore is a very interesting and underrated couple by the way. You can love or hate JK Rowling, but the truth is that Harry Potter story is hers, and even if Remadora was "because she didn't like Wolfstar", she is the author, it was her mind where these characters first appeared, as a big Harry Potter fan I respect and like the original story, that's not a sin. An author has the right to make some changes if some characters were misunderstood by the readers.

(Yes, I wrote this a bit angrily since I've seen too much hate towards Remadora shippers)

[clairecrive]

“Mirror, mirror” - Remus Lupin

A/n: And here’s another Remus one. I’m sorry but I’m so into him you can’t even imagine. I have to let out these feelings some way. For my Hardy’s mutuals don’t worry I’m working on an Alfie piece too *wink wink*.  Well then, hope you like this <3

Warnings: none

Summary: Secret Santa situation

Words: over 1.3k

 HARRY POTTER MASTERLIST

inspired by this tik tok video 

The Marauders usually spent Christmas time at the Potter's. It had become a tradition of sorts but only after Sirius had left his house, before that they would only meet for the annual New Year's party hosted by Euphemia and Fleamont.

However, since their group kinda merged with that of the girls after James finally succeeded in wooing Lily, they moved the opening of presents to the week before they had to go home. They would still see each other for the party but by then it would be too late to exchange gifts.

So here they were, in the common room of the Griffindor Tower, sitting in a circle in front of the fire trying to guess who their gift was from.

None remember whose idea it was but whoever it was suggested they tried doing Secret Santa this year. It was difficult to get the right gift for every one of them so this way it was easier for them and each of them still got a gift.

It was Remus' turn to open his present and guess but by the way he was looking at it, he hadn't a clue. To be fair, the shape of the wrapped object wasn't conventional. It didn't look like a book, something that everyone would have thought he was getting. Apparently, whoever his secret Santa was, they had decided to get creative.

It wouldn't have been all that difficult to guess who it was though. All it took was to glance and everyone's faces and then one would unmistakably notice the look of apprehension and anticipation on someone's face. That would have been a dead giveaway Fortunately for y/n though, no one seemed to have noticed, least of all the directly concerned one.

On top of the package, there was a small piece of paper. The writing was in black ink and elegant cursive and while the first sentence was at the top centre, the drawing of a small mirror was the one to whom the second sentence belonged to. As if he was answering to whatever had made the question.

"Mirror, mirror on the wall, who's the fairest of them all?

But of course, the one the flowers move for."

Remus only stared at it in confusion, he was sure he had heard the rhyme before but he couldn't pinpoint when and where. Maybe it was a muggle thing y/n or Lily had said, he would always have trouble remembering that kind of things for some reason. What he didn't know though, was that the rhyme itself was a spoiler for the present laying on his lap.

Without thinking too much about its meaning though, he carefully removed the wrapping paper only to be met with... his face?

His scarred face was reflected in an orned mirror that looked old but was clearly hand made and of good quality. It wasn't just a mirror though, just like Remus wasn't just a werewolf. Not that he'd ever say it, mind you, but it was the reasoning behind y/n's gift.

On the bottom of the mirror, there were five small sunflowers. Each of them different from the other but all of them facing whoever was standing in front of the mirror. Remus could see a faint trace of the same paint used for the flowers on the frame of the mirror so he deduced that they were hand-painted recently and did not come originally with the mirror.

"Are you sure there was your name on it? Because this looks like the perfect gift for Sirius," chimed James over his shoulders.

"Oh, please. I'm not the one who spends at least ten minutes every morning fixing his hair," Sirius snickered clearly pointing at his best friend

"Well, I need to look girl for my girl don't I," he smirked wrapping his arm around Lily who was still getting used to him calling that

"You're right Prongs, not everyone can be effortlessly dashing,"

"Well, now we know why this would have been a useless present for Sirius." Rolling her eyes, y/n stated from her place beside the long-haired boy and in front of Remus who still trying to wrap his head around the identity of his secret Santa.

                                      ***                 ***                   ***

It was later in the evening, everyone had opened their presents and full from the delicious food offered by the school, they had all retreated to their rooms. Well, everyone but one of them.

Holding his present in his hands, Remus was still trying to figure out who had bought this for him. And most importantly, why. It wasn't a secret that he wasn't the most confident in his looks. The scars covering his body had never failed to remind him that there was something wrong with him. But then again, seeing as this person had taken the time to actually paint flowers on it, it meant that there was some explanation behind it. Remus couldn't see it to save his life though.

Soft footsteps broke him out of his thoughts and he turned around to see y/n standing at the end of the stairs that led to the girls' dormitories with a glass of water in her hands.

"What are you doing here?" Y/n wondered yawning

"Couldn't sleep."

"Same," she said making her way to sit next to Remus who went back at staring at the mirror.

"Do you know that sunflowers move in whatever direction the sun is?" She asked lowering the now empty glass on the floor beside the sofa.

"They do?" Remus asked in surprise making y/n hum in confirmation.

"And they all point towards you." She pointed out after a while, aiding him in the right direction seeing as he was still looking at the gift puzzled.

"So, you're saying that whoever made this for me thinks of me as the sun?" This time he turned to face her and she just shrugged her shoulders. To be fair, she was the one who had made that for him but she wasn't confident enough to just tell him. It didn't look like he liked his present much.

"Maybe this was really meant for Sirius," he muttered under his breath turning again towards the mirror. Y/n couldn't help but scoff at this, at his non-existent self-esteem.

"Is it so absurd for you to think that someone might find you beautiful?" She asked him, maybe more snappy than she ought to be, but it did manage to catch Remus' attention and the wheels in his mind to spin.

"You're my secret Santa, arent' you?" He asked and even though there wasn't really the need for her to confirm she still nodded, hiding her blushing cheeks by turning her head.

"I'm sorry though, I knew it was a bit risky of a present but I thought it was cute."

"It is, it really is," he insisted when she shot him a doubtful look, "it's very thoughtful. I just- I just didn't know you thought that way about me."

"Honestly Remus, you're the only one who's clueless about your worth."

"Do you really think so?"

"I've just compared you to the sun, do you really need to ask that?"

"Sorry, it's just that it feels like a dream." Not knowing what to say, Y/n chose not to speak but that only fueled Remus more.

"My crush comparing me to the biggest star honestly feels like a dream," he added making y/n's head snap to him

"What?"

"If I'm the sun, does that mean that you're the moon?" he asked leaning closer to her

"But the sun and the moon never meet." She complained, her eyes on his lips.

"I'll just have to catch, won't I?" he murmured now practically on her lips

"I reckon that won't be a problem." And that was the last words they exchanged before their lips met.

[sapphirelass]

I’ll be by your side - Remus LupinxDaughter!Reader

Hi!! Wooow I’m a slow writer XD To be fair though, I am graduating in June, so there’s...quite a lot to do. Anyhow, this is part 3 of my imagine deal? so I’d recommend reading that one and part 2 first. Remus is my favourite HP character, so this mainly focuses on the relationship between him and his daughter, but I guess it’s slight HarryxReader as well ;)

Deal? (Part 1) | Oh, darling... (Part 2) | I’ll be by your side (Part 3)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Please note:

1: I don’t own any of the gifs used, nor any already established characters, so credit to the authors and original creators - You have done a phenomenal job :)

2: English is not my native language, as I was born and raised in Sweden. I have, however, studied English for almost a decade, so I don’t think it’ll be a problem, I just thought I’d let you know ;)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You probably already know this, but still:

Y/N - Your name

Y/N/N - Your nickname

Y/H - Your house

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Word count: ≈ 2200

Warnings: Battle of Hogwarts, Angst, Blood, Death :(

Enjoy! :)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“But, dad! You can’t go yourself and then expect me not to come along!”

“Yes, (Y/N/N), I can, and I will!”

He was desperate to go join the rest of the Order, and searched frantically for his old coat.

“Bu-”

“Darling, listen, this is not your fight, okay? You’re staying with Tonks and Teddy this time, and I’ll-”

She had grabbed his coat and was holding it behind her back, out of her father’s reach.

“DAD!!”

Remus stopped for a moment and took a proper look at his daughter for the first time since receiving the message about the upcoming battle.

“Look, I’m seventeen years old. I’m an adult now, and most of my younger friends are fighting. There’s literally no reason for me not to!”

“There is a perfectly good reason and you know that! Besides, your age is completely irrelevant! It wouldn’t matter if you were fifteen or seventeen, twenty or thirty, I don’t want you fighting!”

His voice was stern, which admittedly wasn’t too uncommon, but it lacked the normal comedic undertone and not even a ghost of a smile could be seen on his face. This did make (Y/N) feel quite uncomfortable, but she was not giving up. She couldn’t leave everyone else and just sit quietly on the sidelines. Surely he understood that, right?

“Well, I’m sorry, but it’s not your choice to make. I know you don’t like it, but I’m going.” 

She gave her father his coat and picked a jumper for herself, but stopped abruptly when approaching the front door. Remus had stepped in front of her, and pulled her into a tight hug.

“Please, darling… I can’t have you injured again - or worse! Stay.”

“Dad, I promised you two years ago that I would pick my fights more wisely. We made a deal. And I am choosing this one.”

“(Y/N), it’s not the same! Seeing you hurt back then caused me more pain than you could possibly imagine, but this will be worse. Far worse. An-”

“Don’t you think I know that?” It wasn’t her intention to snap at him, but they didn’t have time for this argument. People were waiting. “I know it’s for real this time, it most definitely was two weeks ago, but I honestly thought you would have more faith in me. I’m not five, okay?!”

“(Y/N/N), don-”

She pulled out of his embrace, tied her shoes and apparated. Leaving him in the middle of an argument like that broke her heart. She knew the chances of them both making it out alive were low, unharmed close to none. They did, however, not have a choice. There was no time to waste. Voldemort could be attacking the castle this very moment, and Harry, Dumbledore’s army and the rest of the Order would need all the help they could get…

~~~

(Y/N) ran down the stairs, desperately searching for any familiar faces, and eventually spotted one she had really longed to see.

“Harry!!”

He turned at the sound of his name and smiled - really smiled - when their eyes met. They weren’t more than a few feet away from each other, and it didn’t take long before they met in the middle.

“(Y/N/N)! You alright?” They hugged each other tightly and enjoyed the feeling of safety, if only for a few seconds. “What happened to your arm?”

She followed his gaze and found her sleeve torn and shoulder covered in blood. It wasn’t too bad though, she hadn��t even noticed it before Harry pointed it out.

“I-I don’t know, it’s fine. How are you feeling?”

He looked down at her and used a bloodied and scarred hand to push some of her hair behind her ear. He wanted to say “fine”, but it would have been a lie.

“Scared”, he admitted, “But also ready. Let’s finish this, once and for all?”

She nodded. “You’re right! How can I help?”

“Well, some people are trying to evacuate all the younger students through the room of requirement, think you could lend them a hand?”

“Sure! Good luck Harold, see you!”

He shook his head at the nickname, but smiled nonetheless.

“Right, good luck. And (Y/N/N)?”

“Yeah?”

“Stay alive, will you?”

“I’ll do my best on one condition.”

“Hmm?”

“You do the same”

He gave her a nod before continuing up the stairs.

“And Harry, we don’t have time for the full story, but if you run into my dad, let him know I’m sorry, will you?”

~~~

Sure, (Y/N) loved Hogwarts, it was her second home, but this was proper chaos! Most of the younger kids were finally safe, but the battle was far from won. There were death eaters everywhere. She stumbled behind suit of armor, narrowly avoiding a flash of red light, and suddenly remembered something her dad had said the other night: 

“It is the quality of one's convictions that determines success, not the number of followers” 

She knew it was meant to work as motivation, but thinking about it now just made her feel sad. How could she be so stupid? She fought her way through the corridors, but after turning a corner, she found herself facing an empty hallway? A chill went down her spine as the booming voice of Lord Voldemort could be heard all throughout the grounds. He was ordering his followers to back down, hoping to get Harry to come directly to him. Great! Now she had two people to find before it was too late...

~~

Entering the great hall this time felt nothing like it had almost seven years ago. There were people everywhere. Students, teachers, children, former graduates and parents - all in this together, mourning, comforting and healing.

(Y/N) would have noticed Fred Weasley surrounded by the rest of his family. Neville and Oliver Wood carefully moving Colin Creevey out of the way. She would have seen all of them, had it not been for a certain old, brown coat in her peripheral vision. 

Her world fell apart, she found herself unable to breathe and didn’t realize she had sprinted towards her father before she felt two, strong arms wrap around her. (Y/N) struggled and tried to push them away, but didn’t have enough strength to do so. She crumpled to the ground and was pulled into a tight embrace.

“(Y/N/N)…”, a soft voice mumbled. “I’m so sorry. Can you try to breathe slower, please? Deep and easy, alright.”

She realized that someone was speaking to her, but she didn’t recognize the words. They held no meaning, almost as if he spoke a different language, or stood very far away. (Y/N) eventually stopped hyperventilating and tried to ease the shaking as she slowly turned to check who it was, sitting with his arms around her. Her eyes met a pair of emerald green ones.

“Harry.” she whispered, still crying but trying to keep her focus on him. There was so much more she would have wanted to say, but she was unable to find the right words. “Please tell me.... Tell me he’s no-...”

“‘m sorry”

They sat for a few minutes before Harry picked a small vial from his pocket and asked if she’d be okay.

“(Y/N/N), I’m sorry, but I have to go. It’s not over yet.”

She took a deep breath.

“It’s fine, I get it. Go. I’d love a moment alone anyways.”

~~~

She sat by her father’s side for a while, but felt unable to look at him, not wanting to fully accept the reality of the situation. It was when the fifth person came up to her to give their condolences that she got up and left the great hall. She couldn’t take it, and besides, it should be fine. The death eaters had left.

She walked the familiar path towards the (Y/H) common room, but nothing seemed... real. It felt like a nightmare, only this time she couldn’t talk it through with her dad over a cup of tea. This time, nobody would be there to convince her it was just a bad dream. 

This time, no one would wake her up…  

The very moment that thought crossed her mind, a dark chuckle shattered the otherwise eerie silence.

“Avada kedavra”

She barely had time to register Antonin Dolohov with his wand pointed in her direction before an intense flash of green light caused her world to go dark.

This time, she wouldn’t wake up.

~~~

*Darkness*

*A flicker of light*

*A flicker of... hope*

*Warmth?*

~~~

It was a weird feeling. She didn’t feel happy, but rather… at peace. She sat up slowly and let her eyes adjust to the brightness as two voices simultaneously asked:

“(Y/N/N)?!”

She turned around and found herself face to face with a rather tall, red haired wizard, and a slightly older man with longer brown hair.

“Fred? Sirius?”

Fred skipped over and held out his hand, helping his younger friend to her feet. He immediately noticed her dried tears and pulled her into a tight embrace. Sirius remained a few feet away with a pained expression on his face, but was unable to stay quiet for long.

“What happened?”

(Y/N) pulled away and met her godfather’s worried gaze.

“I… It’s my fault. I thought all the Death Eaters had left the castle. They were waiting for Harry in the forbidden forest and I just needed some air...”

“Did Harry go?”

A couple (Y/N) had only seen in pictures, but knew to be James and Lily Potter, had appeared behind Sirius.

“I’m not sure. He left for Dumbledore’s office about fifteen minutes earlier. I’m sorry I didn’t even try to stop him but, with all due respect, he would have gone anyways. It’s impossible to change his mind once he decides on something.”

To her surprise, none of Harry’s parents looked very worried, but shared a smile instead.

“Don’t worry, (Y/N/N).”, said Lily gently, “He’ll know what to do when the time comes.”

“You’ve both come so far”, added James, “Things will be fine in the end, and if they’re not fine, then it’s not the end.”

“I hope you’re both right…”, she mumbled quietly, “sorry, but is dad…?”

James smiled sadly and nodded before turning to call his old friend over, however Sirius got there first.

“Oi! Moony! Get over ‘ere.”

Remus had been discussing something not too far away, and Sirius’ comment made him chuckle as he approached the other marauders. 

“Easy, Pads, you make it sound li-”

That was all he had time for, as two arms wrapped themselves tightly around his torso. He would have known who it was even without looking. He’d recognize that hug anywhere. He promised himself he wouldn’t cry, but all it took was one word.

one. single. word.

 “Dad!” 

A single word before hot, salty tears filled his eyes. It wasn’t possible!? He was completely lost for words. Didn’t know how to react, what to say or what to do. He just stood there, his arms wrapped around his only daughter, unable to process the fact that she was… dead. They both were.

“Dad, I’m so so so sorry! I shouldn’t have shouted, I shouldn’t have taken my anger or fear out on you and above all I shouldn’t have left!?! I… I..”

“(Y/N/N)”

“And now Teddy won’t have his father-”

“(Y/N/N)!!”

“And I swear I tried to find you, but I couldn’t and then it was too late and it’s all my fault a-”

“(Y/N) Lupin!!!”

She fell silent but didn’t let go.

“I’m s-”

“Darling, calm down! What’s done is done, alright. I still wish you hadn’t gone, especially given the apparent outcome, but I understand. Are you okay? Nothing broken?”

“No, I’m good, actually… Nothing hurts at all, but-”

“Good!” He pulled away and put his hands on her shoulders. “Would you mind letting me in on what happened?”

She took a deep breath and closed her eyes, not really wanting to talk about the last few hours, yet knowing she owed her father that much.

“I… I entered the great hall and saw… you. I don’t quite know what happened, I just… broke. Then Harry showed up and we just hugged, I guess?”

Lily and James looked at each other and smiled.

“Then we both left and Dolohov appeared out of nowhere and… well that’s that.”

Remus shook his head sadly, immediately understanding the true meaning of his daughter’s words. HE was duelling Dolohov earlier that night. HE lost that duel. Had he won then maybe, possibly, she would still be alive too. His fault... as always

“Remus? Rem?”, James mumbled, putting an arm around his friend’s shoulders, “It’s not your fault. You tried, and that’s the best either of us can do.”

~~~

Things didn’t go according to plan, but perhaps they were the way they were always meant to be.

Her body next to her fathers, as they rested peacefully in the great hall. Her soul next to her father, as they wandered through the deep valleys of Nangijala, awaiting the day lost friends and lovers would come join them. No matter in this life or in the next;

I’ll be by your side 

~ L

Masterlist

[starkidpotty]

In Cahoots [HJP]

Request: hey omg your writing is so good! can I request Harry and reader being friends and having detention with umbridge together and then walking back together to the common room late at night and taking care of each other and then they admit their feelings for each other? Have a wonderful day! 💕💕 - anon

You never mean to say or do most things, but this time it works out for the better.

Pairing: Harry Potter x Reader

Word Count: ~2.2k

Warnings: mentions of blood, scars, and wounds

A/N: I deviated from them being friends ;( i love awkward teen interactions too much. i hope u enjoy it regardless! <3 

Punishments for misbehavior at Hogwarts were never bloody. Scary, perhaps, but never bloody. Umbridge made it clear she did not care much for this unwritten rule, and had a taste for a more medieval way of disciplining the students. Harry was the first person to incur damage from Dolores’ sadistic black quill, until you found yourself in detention with him. Your reason for detention was stupid (Umbridge’s rules were stupid) as you were found by the Inquistorial squad with a dungbomb you had no intention of using in your pocket. Meanwhile, Harry was serving day three out of his 2 week detention with Umbridge. You mournfully hated that this was the most interaction you and him have had outside of the DA meetings.

Both of you were tasked to repeatedly write I must not break rules until it was scabbed and bleeding onto your hands. You were sat next to Harry, on your 28th or 29th repetition of the line–you lost count, as the pain started to amplify the more you wrote. Umbridge was looking quite pleased with herself, as she paced back and forth while watching the both of you with a nefarious grin plastered onto her ugly face. Tears had started to pool in your eyes making them appear like watercolor-painted puddles. You were trying your hardest to suck them back into your tear ducts to no avail. Tear by slow tear began to crawl its way down your face and onto the empty parchment as you wrote with your quill. The effect of the quill for some odd reason was extreme on your hand. You were bleeding more profusely than your contemporaries, you noticed.

Umbridge finally relinquished the both of you from the painful task and you immediately took hold of your book bag, haphazardly dropping the black quill onto the floor, and flounced to the exit, beating Harry to it.

Your lips were pressed together in a fine line, trying to stifle in a cry until you rounded a corner and sat on the nearest bench. In a desperate attempt to get the bleeding to stop, you carelessly unknotted your Gryffindor tie and tied it over the wounds. You sat for a few seconds, pressing firmly on the wound to get it to stop bleeding. Your tears were now free flowing at this point.

Harry spots you from his peripherals, as he exits detention. Harry walks over to you to comfort you, as he knows how terrible the wounds are the first time around. You, on the other hand, were so fixated on the wound, that as you stood up to go to the girl’s lavatory, the top of your head made contact with Harry’s jaw. 

Harry takes a few steps back, surprised by the sudden contact between your scalp and his chin. And, you are now nursing two boo-boos instead of the one. Harry composes himself quickly and takes steps toward, while still clutching his jaw. You are holding your head and while your hand bleeds freely over the floor, even with the tie wrapped around it.

“You’re, uh, bleeding,” He stammers as his eyes follow the drops of blood. He swoops to take your hand and unravel the red-stained, makeshift Gryffindor tie bandage, carelessly placing it in his front pocket. He tries his best to be gentle but failing as you wince, “Quite a lot.”

“I am fairly well-aware, Harry.” You didn’t mean for this to come off as snarky, but as the pain and bleeding on your hand intensify, you really couldn’t control your tone, even if it was Harry that was talking to you.

“Of course, sorry.” He replies to you sheepishly, “I’ll help you clean it up, if it’s alright.” Harry took this opportunity to not only help you, but to be able to stand in such close proximity to you–something he’s been pathetically inching towards the whole school year. 

He doesn’t wait for your response and leads you to the girl’s lavatory, heading straight to the sink. He turns the faucet on and gently takes your hand under the running water. He wipes away the blood with both his hands, and you stare at his hand. Underneath the newly minted wounds were faded and healing wounds spelling out “I must not tell lies”. 

The pain made its presence on your hand very clear, but your thoughts were swirling around erratically. Harry Potter was tending to your wounds, holding your hand, standing oh-so painstakingly close to you in the girl’s lavatory. Your little schoolgirl crush on him started after the Yule Ball and stayed ever since. So, regardless of how much pain you were in, you were enjoying his presence. 

He’s fixated on your hands as quite literally, the bleeding wouldn’t stop, no matter how hard he pressed. Also because he was too shy to look at you, square in the face. 

“With all the bleeding, I’d guess you were a hemophiliac,” Harry declares seriously, trying to make the atmosphere more comfortable.

You didn’t know whether to take this as a joke or an insult as you, being the pureblood you were, did not know what a hemophiliac was. You give him a confused look, head tilted slightly, brows furrowed at the center. Harry, on the other hand, was beating himself up for trying to cut the silence in such a dumb way. 

“Sorry? Is that a muggle joke?” You question. 

“Oh, er, sorry,” He awkwardly stammers out, “It’s a muggle condition where your wounds don’t quite necessarily know when to stop bleeding.” 

All you muster is a softly-spoken, oh. You were still awkwardly standing with your hand in Harry’s. Harry turns off the faucet and  grabs your tie out from his pocket. He dabs it gently and presses it firmly onto your wounded hand. With his free hand, he fishes his wand from his pocket. 

Uncovering your tie from the wound he says, “Episkey,” while pointing his wand at your hand. The wounds scabbed over, stopping the bleeding. As your tie is drenched in blood (you were astounded at how much blood your hand let out, perhaps you were what muggles called a “hemophiliac”), Harry unties his own tie and wraps it around your scabbed hand for good measure. You take this opportunity to wipe your face dry with your untouched hand. He hands you your bloodied tie and you shove it into your bookbag. 

He stares at you and smiles, “I hope that would help, one way or another.” He’s still holding your wounded hand and stares at you. You look to meet his eyes and for a few seconds your eyes lock. You get red in the face and look down quickly. Harry lets out an awkward chuckle and gently drops your hand out of his. 

“Thank you, Harry, but what about your wounds?” You ask him as now you take his wounded hand. You examine the scar on his left-hand. You rub your thumb gently near the wounds, paying extra attention to not gloss over the newly formed scabs. He tamely takes his hand away from you and hangs it at his side.

“I’ll manage.” He replies to you. Not wanting to give you the chance to contest he continues, “Uh, would you like to head back to the common room together?” 

“I don’t think we’ve much a choice,” you respond, smiling lightly.  

Walking out the girl’s lavatory–thanking Merlin that no one saw Harry scamper out the door–and make your way to the Gryffindor tower. The silence is extremely awkward. Harry sneaks glances at you, as you look out to the Hogwarts courtyard to ease out of whatever mental bind you’ve put on your tongue. 

“So, Ha–” you begin. At the same time, Harry opens his mouth to speak uttering the first syllable of your name. You both look down at the floor, grinning like idiots. 

“Sorry,” Harry says, “Please, you first.”

You let out a breathless half-giggle, “Umbridge’s quill is quite evil, isn’t it?”

“Indeed.” Harry wanted to scream into a cauldron. Months of imagining a full-on conversation with you in his head and all he could muster was a puny indeed? 

Another awkward pause takes a hold of the two of you. 

You begin again, “So… are you and Cho, er, together? In cahoots?” You mentally slap yourself on the forehead. What kind of teenager  says cahoots unironically?

“Me? Cho?” Harry questions you, looking bewildered. Harry was surprised at your question, as he thought his pitiful pining over you was already painfully obvious.

“Is-is it not a thing?” You stammer out, a bit surprised. 

“Not in the slightest.” Confirms Harry. 

“Well, I only ask,” You pause, trying to recollect your thoughts and choose your words carefully, “because you too seem very close.”

“Well, she’s a good friend, but no. We aren’t together. She’s still mourning Cedric.” 

“Oh, I can only imagine.”

A third awkward silence takes you both once more. You are unaware, but Harry is just as nervous as you are. You and Harry have finally made it to the moving staircases, you two make your way up. Just as you hit the middle of the staircase, it moves, leaving you and Harry stuck until it returns to its original position. Harry wanted to throw himself off of the magical staircase right about now.

Harry thinks this is as good a time as ever to sneakily confirm–hopefully deny–his suspicions and continues the conversation, “What about you, and, uh, Anthony Goldstein?” 

Your face reflexively cringes and Harry smiles at the scene, “Have I said something?” 

“Yes, you said Anthony Goldstein.” 

“Well, I thought you and he were in cahoots.” He jokes at you, trying to fake confidence.

You bury your face in your hands, “Merlin, he was a git. He was quite rude to me after he told me how he felt about me because I confessed I had a little crush on you.” You immediately regret the oversharing of information as Harry eyes widen. But deep down, he’s more relieved than not, as you had accidentally made the proverbial first move.

You try and play it off with a laugh, “Well, I mean, they say you are the Chosen One, and, uh I think you are quite nice-looking,” Nice-looking? you think to yourself. You continue to save yourself the embarrassment, “you’re great at spells too, and, uh, very brave, I’d say.”

Harry goes red in the face at your flurry of compliments, but he only repeats, “Nice-looking?”

“Quite.” 

Harry doesn’t know what force propels him to start acting all cheekily with you but he says, “I think you’re, er, quite nice-looking as well. Talented at spells, too.” 

“So I guess it’s agreed upon then?” you ask him. 

“Sorry?” 

“That we both think we are nice-looking...and good at spellwork.” You joshed. 

“If anything, I think you’re more than quite nice-looking–you’re very beautiful.” Harry says so quickly, it’s almost a miracle he didn’t trip over his tongue.

It’s as though your’s and Harry’s faces were having a contest on who could make who redder–you were sure you were winning.

“That’s you, I think.” You say to return the compliment, then subsequently groaning realizing how it came out.

“You think I’m beautiful too?” Harry bantered.. 

“Much more beautiful than me, I suppose.” 

The staircase finally shifts to the correct landing and the both of you ascend to the Gryffindor tower entrance, Harry says the password, gesturing for you to step in first. You turn to him to thank him but your lips meet his cheek instead. You inadvertently tell him you have a crush on him and then you inadvertently make a move on him, not even 2 minutes apart? What a mess. 

“Merlin, sorry, Harry! I didn’t realize you were so close.” You apologize. 

“No worries, [Y/N]” He says without looking at you as his stomach suddenly turned into a trapeze artist and started doing flips upon flips. 

Thank Merlin there was no one in the common room to watch you and Harry make bumbling fools of yourselves. You both pause at the entryway of the common room, until you begin to speak.

“I want to say thank you, by the way,” You say. You begin to unravel his tie from your hand, seeing as your hand was no longer hurting. “Here’s your, uh, tie, by the way. Thank you for tending to it, even if you didn’t have to.” 

“Anytime,” Harry replies. 

You turn to head to the stairs to make way to your dormitory but Harry calls out.

“I just want to repeat that me and Cho aren’t, er, dating or, as you call it, in cahoots. ” He says to you.

“You’ve said that,” You tell him while smiling. 

“Perhaps, you and I could be in cahoots–I mean it could be something you and I could work toward, if it’s alright with you, but if it’s not, it’s completely fine, I’d still think you’re very beautiful regardless.” Harry is rapping at this point, heart beating in his ears.

You’re surprised and extremely elated at Harry’s burst of confidence, “It is alright by me, Harry. I think I’d like that–I know I would, actually.”

“Brilliant. Absolutely excellent.” He beams. 

“Absolutely.” 

--

masterlist here

[phoebe-delia]

For the song prompt, let’s hear your track 5 lol

Lmaooo this made me laugh, thank you. I've already done my 13th track and now I get to do Track 5! (If you don't know why Track 5 is significant, it's because Taylor Swift puts her most emotional songs as the 5th song on every album).

My Track 5 is, fittingly, a Taylor song; not only that, it's "gold rush," which makes me happy because 1. it's a great song and 2. I actually wrote a fic based on it for the first EVER Drarry as Taylor fic--before I knew this would become a series. It's from Draco's POV, and it can be read here.

I'm so glad to take another crack at this song. This will serve as a sequel/companion piece to the original, but it can stand on its own. Enjoy.

For the first time in his life, Harry was too excited to sleep.

Unlike Dudley, he hadn't spent Christmas Eves and the hours before his birthdays anticipating presents and sweets. He'd never had anything to look forward to, nothing to keep him up at night in anxious glee.

But now, as he stared up at the ceiling, his new roommates sleeping soundly around him, he found himself able to calm his exhilarated mind enough to rest.

He knew that the red and gold curtains that hung around his bed meant that he was in Gryffindor, and he mentally thanked the magical hat for not sorting him into Slytherin with that Malfoy git.

Irritation rose in his chest at the memory of Malfoy insulting his new friend, Ron. Harry'd decided then that anyone who could look at Ron and decide to be so rude to him must be someone to avoid. He knew a bully when he saw one, and bullies, in his experience, didn't change.

Harry turned onto his side to stare out the window, marveling at the novelty of sleeping somewhere with a view other than cramped, blank walls.

He curled up into the warm blanket, finally letting the exhaustion of the day lull him to sleep.

________

Third-year Charms, Harry decided, wasn't any more interesting than it had been the first two years.

He sat next to Ron, who was watching Hermione take notes with machine-like speed and precision. While the sight of Hermione in action was entertaining for a minute or so, Harry didn't understand why Ron stared at her all the time.

Not for the first time that class, Harry regretted not sitting toward the back of the room. Malfoy was sat next to Parkinson at the table just behind them, and Harry knew it was unwise to turn one's back to one's enemy. It was much more prudent to stare at one's nemesis for as long as possible, using subtlety and stealth to make sure one's observations went undetected.

Ron stared at Hermione almost as much as Harry stared at Malfoy, but surely Ron didn't think their friend was up to something.

Well, unless you called memorizing every comma of Hogwarts: A History nefarious.

“Remember, class, your homework for tomorrow is seven inches on the history of the Summoning Charm. You are dismissed," Flitwick turned to the board, casting a cleaning charm to erase the notes.

Harry was startled out of his reverie by the sudden announcement, as well as by Ron, who nudged him and gestured to Hermione, whose head was still bent over her desk as she wrote furiously.

"How long d'you reckon she'd stay here and write if no one stopped her?" Ron muttered.

Harry let out a short laugh and opened his mouth to respond when he caught sight of Malfoy darting quickly out of the room.

Harry frowned. But before he could voice his pondering over why Malfoy'd all but sprinted from the classroom, Hermione had finally snapped out of her note-taking daze and joined Harry and Ron.

As they walked along the corridor, Ron and Hermione continued to squabble over whether or not they needed to go to the library during their free period.

"But 'Mione, it's called a free period. A period of freedom. Don't you want to be free?"

"I don't want my mind to be enslaved to ignorance, Ronald! Information is freedom."

"Merlin, fine. But I have to go get my textbook from the dorm first. Harry, you coming?"

Harry nodded. Hermione narrowed her eyes at the two of them before giving them a mollified nod. Clutching her books tightly, Hermione turned on her heel and walked briskly toward the library.

"C'mon mate," Ron said, tugging at Harry's sleeve. "Let's take the long way."

Ron prattled on about quidditch, and Harry tried to listen, he really did. But his thoughts drifted inevitably back to Malfoy. He kicked himself again for not choosing a better surveillance point in class; maybe if he'd been watching he'd have seen why Malfoy'd fled class at the end.

He and Ron ventured outside, through the courtyard and into the open area beside the lake. Harry felt a surge of victory and relief at the sight of Malfoy sitting on the bench, his head tilted back with a soft smile as if enjoying the warmth on his face. His hair glittered golden in the sun.

Without thinking, Harry started walking toward him, an animated Ron following along.

“But Harry, they haven’t got a chance! Look, the Cannons--”

Ron stopped talking as Malfoy turned to sneer at them.

“Can I help you?” Malfoy drawled, “Or do you mind taking your boisterous conversation elsewhere? I was here first.”

Ron glared. “Shut up, Malfoy. We didn’t see you, or we wouldn’t have come any closer in case being a prat is contagious.”

Malfoy smirked. “Unlike you, I wasn’t raised in a barn, so I don’t carry diseases. But we snakes do bite, so mind your place, Weaselbee.”

Ron started toward Draco, his fists clenched, but Harry grabbed his arm, despite the rage swelling in his own chest.

“Ron, he’s not worth it. C’mon.” Harry said, eyes narrowed at Malfoy in a clear warning.

Ron gave Malfoy one last glare before he let Harry steer him away from Malfoy, who widened his smirk in satisfaction. They walked away, Ron continuing his rant as they made their way to Gryffindor Tower. Harry looked over his shoulder, catching one more glimpse of Malfoy basking in the sunshine.

________

“P-Potter,” Malfoy gasped, trapped between the bathroom wall as Harry crowded him, his face inches away. “W-what—?”

Harry shook his head, smiling softly. “You heard me, Malfoy.”

“I-I’m not sure I did, actually. Might you repeat it?”

Harry chuckled. “Why don’t I show you instead?”

Harry lifted a warm hand reached up to cup Malfoy’s cheek, leaned in and—

Harry woke with a gasp, sweat beading on his forehead. A hand scrubbed over his face as he wiped the sleep from his eyes and felt his four-poster ground him to reality.

After the last six years, he was no stranger to waking up in the middle of the night from strange dreams, but his subconscious--or rather Voldemort--usually tortured him with disturbing images and nightmare scenarios.

This time, it seems Voldemort had left Harry's subconscious to its own horny, teenaged devices--and it apparently had a twisted sense of humor.

That moment of blind rage in the bathroom haunted Harry enough during the day that he wasn't surprised that it would make its way into his dreams--but his chest hurt with the knowledge that perhaps it might've gone differently. Might've ended in whispered apologies, explanations, and soft, exploring kisses.

But if Malfoy hadn't hated him before, he certainly did now, and Harry couldn't blame him.

Harry knew a bully when he saw one, and during that moment, he couldn't pretend it had been Malfoy.

He raised a hand to the scar on his forehead and wondered when he'd changed.

________

“Draco Malfoy, you are hereby sentenced to three months house arrest, followed by one year of probation,” Kingsley banged the gavel, the sound reverberating in the large room before chatter rose from the avid audience.

Harry watched with a small smile as Malfoy and his mother sat together, their cool masks wavering with emotion for just a second before shifting back into place.

He decided to give them a moment before approaching Malfoy, but if he didn't get this over with now, he'd never have the courage.

Suddenly, Malfoy rose on shaking legs and walked over to Harry, who quickly stood to meet him in the middle. Harry regarded him with a tight-lipped smile.

Malfoy tipped his head slightly. “Thank you, Potter.”

Harry nodded. “Sure, Malfoy.”

Malfoy nodded before turning away, stopping when Harry, acting on impulse, reached out and grabbed his arm.

“Wait, Malfoy. I have something for you.”

Malfoy looked at him in confusion as Harry reached into his pocket and handed him his wand, stifling a chuckle when Malfoy’s eye widened.

“Thanks for letting me borrow it,” Harry said, his voice quiet.

Malfoy nodded again. He took the wand from Harry’s hand, closing his eyes. Harry let in a sharp breath at the sight of a soft smile on Malfoy's lips as he reunited with his wand. The image was more compelling than Harry imagined, as evidenced by the butterflies that filled his stomach.

Harry cleared his throat. “Well, er, I’ll see you around, Malfoy,” he said, nodding one final time before turning to leave.

He smiled as he heard Malfoy's quiet, "Goodbye, Potter," as he walked away.

________

Harry pressed his lips together in a grimaced smile as a few younger students gathered near him at the table in the Great Hall. Ron and Hermione shot him sympathetic looks, and he gave them an apologetic shrug before turning to sign another autograph for a wide-eyed first year.

If this would be an indication of what his eighth year would be, Harry wasn't sure how much longer he'd last.

After promises to fulfill the fans' requests later, the giggling group left the table to let him eat in relative peace--it was rather hard to enjoy one's dinner while half the school was staring at you.

His eyes flickered to the Slytherin table, where the students ate mechanically, their faces blank. Malfoy, who'd sent surprisingly genuine apology letters over the summer, looked thoughtful; not calculating or analyzing, but pensive.

Lying in bed that evening, Harry remembered the image of Malfoy at the Black Lake with his head tipped back in the sunlight. He thought of the rare smile Malfoy'd had when he held his wand for the first time after his trial, and the feeling that had bubbled up in his own chest at the sight.

Harry looked out the window at the night sky and wondered if happiness would be a constant thrum under his skin, or if it could be found in stolen moments tucked into his heart. The stars glittered in silent answer, shining with anticipation.

[choxmeixchang]

cho mei chang - introduction:   “   i did this for me, not for you, or you and especially not you.   “

{ cis-female, 23, she/her, brianne tju } during the trial of voldemort’s last major conspirators, cho chang was spotted. they work for self employed events management. rumor has it they are individualistic + cultured, but i’ve heard they're demanding + provocative. during the battle of hogwarts they fought for the order. when i think of them, i’m reminded of sakura gin & tonics, blue ribbons against jet black hair,  regretful memories of emotional teenage hormones, the call of the sea, a flap of raven wings against the crisp wind and binders full of postcards and stamps of long explored places.

NAME: Cho Mei Chang NICKNAMES:   Cece,  AGE:   23. CURRENT LOCATION:   Belgravia, London, UK FROM: Stockbridge, Edinburgh, Scotland OCCUPATION:   Self Employed - Events Management  EDUCATION:   Stockbridge Primary School, Hogwarts School of WC&W NATIONALITY:   Scottish ETHNICITY:   Chinese Indonesian  GENDER:   Female. PRONOUNS:   She/Her ,  They/Them  SEXUALITY:   Fluid Panromantic  BLOOD STATUS: Halfblood HAIR:   Long/Short (she changes it depending on mood), straight, now dark brown (originally black) EYES:   dark brown HEIGHT:   5ft 1. WEIGHT:  48kg, 7st 7lbs.  BODY TYPE:   Banana/Rectangle, defined hips, lean  FASHION:   boho, exotic, trendy SCARS:   N/A  TATTOOS:   upper back, right arm, left arm , ‘freedom’ written in Chinese on her wrist, ‘bravery’ written in Indonesian on her hip, ‘strength’ written in Sanskrit on left wrist.  PIERCINGS:   Three sets of earlobe studs, scaffolding (right ear) nose ring, septum OTHER FEATURES:   N/A POSITIVE TRAITS:  Individualistic, Cultured, Venturesome, Seraphic, Idealistic  NEUTRAL TRAITS: Sensual, Casual, Progressive, Stylish, Surprising  NEGATIVE TRAITS: Demanding, Provocative, Amoral, Crafty, Fickle HISTORY: Cho was born to Chandra Ndari and Jinhai Chang. She is third generation immigrant with settled Scot status and nationality. Her parents run their own hotel called Nira Caledonia- a Chinese themed luxury boutique hotel which is still up and running in the current day and age. Cho grew up helping her parents with little tasks, and summers were spent on the desk or serving in the attached restaurant. Cho had a very nice upbringing, her parents didn’t tiger her, instead they encouraged her to do what they wanted. Her mother Chandra, a witch noticed early on that Cho had inherited the gene and Jinhai was perfectly okay having two witches in the house. He did anything possible to learn what he could to support her for when she’d eventually start Hogwarts. 

When she started school she was excited to learn more about her magical heritage and being placed in Ravenclaw was certainly a happy choice. She thrived in her house, being challenged constantly was refreshing and living up to so many notable witches and wizards who had been in the house previously was something she kept to drive her in her studies. Courteous, sweet, somewhat shy she was oblivious as she got older at how much people began to admire her- and not admire her in a way of her studious personality or talents, but physically and didn’t know the effect she had on some of the students. She never considered herself beautiful, or hot, conventionally pretty to a certain degree but nothing special. But when the Yule Ball occurred in her fifth year, Cedric Diggory, who was considered one of the school’s most eligible bachelors alongside being a good study friend asked her to the ball. She felt like great big neon sign had been placed above her. And then Harry Potter of all people asked her and it sent her into a frenzy of self doubt and expectation she wasn’t entirely ready for. But then Cedric asked to date her and she said yes and he was the most charming, sweetest man she could imagine. It didn’t matter to her that he was a Hogwart’s Champion, she just liked being looked after and loved. 

That of course came crumbling down, eight months of dating ended in one curse and a fall of a body. The death of Cedric affected her badly, she became emotional, unstable, every little thing reminded her of him and her first love was gone and she had to continue on. Her school work suffered, her grades beginning to plummet and her sixth year came around and she had this insane panic of an entire year before taking NEWTS and she was so behind. She tried to be brave in front of people in her sixth year, but it became impossible to keep up with how much Cedric’s death was still a topic of discussion. And the threat of Voldemort being back weighed over her. She believed Harry, of course she did, he didn’t seem like the type to lie about such a thing. So when the DA was started and the tyrannical reign of Umbridge began she jumped at the chance to learn more from him and to make a step in making herself better. If she could protect herself, build her confidence, just maybe she could get through this. She even opened up to the idea of dating Harry, who seemed to still be interested in her. But she wasn’t ready, everything was still too raw and she found the friendship she had created with him falling apart as their attempt of dating also did. And then Marietta, one of her closest best friends caved under the pressure and Cho found herself standing up for her friend but poisoning the others against her instead. As if she were also the one to grass everyone up. The cursed parchment was a nasty trick, something Cho wouldn’t forgive purely for the humiliation and pain Marietta had to put up with. It was easy for people to be righteous when they didn’t know all the facts, that Marietta had been forced, pressured, the threat of her mum getting in trouble and lengths Umbridge went to in her office to get people to confess or spill their secrets. 

(everything leading up to the battle is canon up to this point - i could write hours of Cho’s canon past)

Cho went back for the 7th year, alongside Marietta, Mandy, Terry, Michael etc. But it was the final year she had thought it would be. The Ministry was taken over, the school alongside it. The school year was brutal, half their friends and school mates were gone, the unknowing of their fates kept them all on their toes and their heads down just trying to survive. Being able to live simply because their blood was different to others. It was barbaric and traumatic and Cho had managed about three months of it until she had taken some of her house and went to go hide in the Room of Requirement. When Luna was snatched just after Christmas she alongside others felt helpless. Even in the holidays people weren’t safe. Those who hid there over the months, with more and more joining as the days and weeks passed meant everyone got used to living in such close quarters. It was like a haven inside a prison and Cho had taken it upon herself to learn alongside some others more healing spells and general medical aid to help those who came to seek refuge. The year passed and soon became May and alongside it, the eventual battle. The elation she had felt seeing Harry, Ron, Dean and Luna, hell even for a fraction of a second, Hermione turned up from the secret passageway it felt like salvation had finally come. 

The battle had been long, tiring and full of despair. She had been alongside Marietta and Michael when both were struck, Michael went down with an Avada and Marietta was hit with a curse which sent a gash from navel to throat alongside her body. Whatever they had learnt in the DA felt hopeless, Cho had battled her best, tears streaming and coated in her best friends blood. Marietta didn’t have to stay and fight, she wouldn’t have blamed her, but the guilt she still felt at what had happened two years before made her resolute to stay and help. Because of her selflessness Marietta died and Cho witnessed numerous friends fall. When the battle was finally over, when Voldemort was dead and those who still lived gathered together Cho had sat in the hall alongside what remained of her house and thought about each and every person she had loved which had been slain. 

She couldn’t find a way to cope, she was exhausted from feeling anything and within weeks she had dropped off the face of the earth. No one knew where she’d gone, no one knew how she was, only she knew she couldn’t go home and she couldn’t find a way to move past it. So she had packed a bag, grabbed her passport and funds and left to go find herself. She had to process and grieve in the own way and she couldn’t wait to experience the aftermath. She found herself travelling around the world, never staying in one country more than a few months. The more she moved, the more she healed, and the more she experienced the more she began to change. And it was good, she immersed herself in culture and tradition and learnt about others. Already trilingual, her travels turned her into a polyglot. With Chinese, Indonesian, Spanish, Hindi, Turkish, Sinhalese and Polish under her belt Cho found it easy to start coming into her own. Languages became a passion and the amount of work which opened up for her due to her extensive and ever growing array of languages started her in a career of event planning. Working alongside gaining life experiences, Cho has gone snorkelling, deep sea diving, paragliding, bungee jumping, camel riding, learned jujitsu, experienced festivals and carnivals and it was in Brazil, almost three years since the war she spotted the first person she had left behind. Purely by chance, at least she wanted it to be, she found herself face to face with Dean Thomas and his family. She stayed a month, both of them reconnecting and Cho found herself opening up about her disappearance and what she had been doing- at least three of those weeks were spent fucking around and fucking. They had bonded over the war, connected in a way she didn’t feel she could connect with anyone back in the UK. It wasn’t feelings based, her travels so far had gotten her many dalliances under her belt- men, women, it didn't matter, she wanted it all. She was living her best life and the weeks spent with Dean were a brief thing to remind her of what once was home. 

When he asked her to come back, not with him or with promise of anything more between them, simply because she belonged there she had packed that very night and moved on, leaving him a postcard with a simple ‘I’m sorry, I can’t’. For the remainder of her time travelling, she took on more and more experiences and soon the emotional, dramatic little girl she had left back on the small island was gone and instead there was a personality of her own. She was strong, cultured, open and very into living in the moment and she picked up numerous techniques from her travels to help with keeping her on her track. So when she had finally gotten an email from her mother, saying her father was sick and they weren’t sure how long he had she found herself back in the rainy highlands of Scotland and back to a place she had long left behind. It turned out to be a temporary thing, her father bounced back during the weeks she was home and surprisingly, Cho found herself wanting to stay longer. So she did. She kept to Scotland for a few more months, working with clubs and promoting events and finally decided that the woman she had become was enough to maybe start again. So she found herself travelling into England and living in London. It was during a very early morning stroll through Diagon, intent on avoiding anyone familiar she discovered a location long since boarded up and the idea struck her on what she wanted to do. 

With news of the trials and other things concerning the minds of its inhabitants, no one really paid attention to the slow renovation of the building nor what was going on inside. When she was ready she would announce it, there would be no hiding but if she was going to be here, she was going to do something she loved. And what was best than parties, events and clubbing. She hasn’t announced her return to anyone, but that’s soon to change and would anyone recognise the tornado which had landed on their doorstep?  CONNECTIONS:

Candra Ndari - Mother Jinhai Chang - Father Cedric Diggory - Deceased Ex Boyfriend Terry Boot - Close Friend Michael Corner - Deceased Friend Marietta Edgecombe - Deceased Friend Marcus Belby - Deceased Friend Mandy Brocklehurst - Ex House Mate Luna Lovegood - Ex House Mate / Friend Harry Potter - Dated Previously  Hermione Granger - Indifferent / Not Particularly Liking Lisa Turpin - Ex Housemate Deceased  Anthony Goldstein - Ex Housemate Dean Thomas - Previous Lover (Secret)

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