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whatstruthgottodowithit · 10 days

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The Other Evans Girl [Epilogue]

Fandom: Harry Potter [Marauder’s Era]

Pairing: Sirius Black x Original Female Character, Sirius Black x Daisy Evans, James Potter x Lily Evans

Characters: Sirius Black, Original Female Character, Daisy Evans, Lily Evans, Remus Lupin, James Potter, Harry Potter, Severus Snape, Minerva McGonagall, Alice Fortescue, Frank Longbottom, Marlene McKinnon, Albus Dumbledore, Voldemort, Peter Pettigrew, Lucius Malfoy, Bellatrix LeStrange, Walburga Black, Orion Black, Jasper Thicknesse, Barty Crouch Jr, Mulciber, Walden McNair

Word Count: 7867

Rating: Mature

Summary: Hogwarts is a safe haven, a home for many, but it’s often a place where heartache, love and complex emotions dwell and none know that better than the Marauders. Lily Evans just wants to make it out as a successful witch though the oncoming war and the ongoing advances of James Potter threaten that. Daisy Evans, her twin, has other goals. Join the Evans sisters as they make their way through Hogwarts, prepare for war and eventually find love.

Notes: I only cried three times writing this.

No but seriously I can't believe it's finished but I can believe I've talked myself into continuing it. I'll be doing oneshots following on like glimpses of Daisy's life following this up to well after the second war. Also I refuse to do my boy dirty so he's getting his happy ending lol

LINK TO AO3 // LINK TO PINTEREST // LINK TO ALL PARTS

Daisy didn’t know why she had come, what random force had tugged at her to leave her flat and apparate here but she had, forgoing the voice in her head that told her it wasn’t safe because the feeling in her gut was enough.

And she had been right.

Given the gargantuan manor James Potter had grown up in one would expect his own family home to be of a similar stature but following the passing of both his parents he’d found manors and mansions too empty and unfeeling and so he and his new bride had bought a quaint Tudor style house in Godric’s Hollow complete with a picturesque front garden for their future children to play in. Daisy remembered the first time she had clapped eyes on it, how beautiful and perfect she had thought it to be. She and Lily planned on barbecues in the back garden, an inherently muggle invention the boys were enthralled to get involved with. She thought of hot chocolates by the open fire in the living room on Christmas Eve with everyone sleeping over because no one dared miss Harry’s first holiday. She thought of the swing set she’d bought her nephew, still unopened somewhere in the shed because her sister had decreed him far too young to have it yet and that his godparents ought to know better. She thought of her home away from home. Only now it didn’t resemble the beautiful home she’d come to know. Now it lay in ruins, the front of the building eviscerated strewing rubble and debris over the manicured front lawn and with it she could smell something wretched. The pungent air of thick magic. The smell of death.

And just like that house in front of her she felt her world implode. She had known there was a reason for that feeling in her gut. She had known there was something tugging her forward but she had hoped she’d been wrong.

‘No,’ she whispered as reality started to settle in, ‘no, no, no! Lily! Lil!’

She started to run, barrelling towards the front gate as her mind chanted at her that it was going to be okay. Maybe they got out, maybe they’d been lucky and managed to escape, she reasoned. If anyone could, it'd be Lily. Her practical and perfect sister, she’d know what to do. She’d manage to escape.

She didn’t even check her surroundings as she’d been taught to, the need to get to her family all consuming, which was why she was startled as strong arms wrapped around her pulling her into the familiar scent of cigarettes and leather.

‘Dais,’ Sirius said hoarsely, ‘Dais you can’t.’

‘Let me go! Lil!’ she shouted, fighting against her boyfriend as he struggled to keep hold of her.

‘Dais they’re gone,’ he whispered, finally grabbing her wrists and pulling him to face her. He looked awful, his normally happy features barren of life and his eyes red from crying, ‘they’re both gone.’

‘No, they can’t be,’ she whispered as the tears started to build, wet and warm as they rolled down her cheeks. How could they be gone? How could her sister, her other half be gone?

‘How, I don’t understand,’ she said, her breath coming quicker and quicker though it felt as though she couldn’t breathe at all. The only other time she’d ever felt like this was when they’d lost their parents, as if someone had squeezed all the air out of her, all the life out of her. Sirius didn’t say anything and just pulled her into his chest, allowing her to sob as the information settled in.

None of it made sense. They were supposed to be safe; Dumbledore had promised her he would keep them safe. Hadn’t that been the reason for all the spells and enchantments? The lockdowns and restrictions? The secrecy? Hadn’t that been why they were living through hell? Stolen moments coming every few weeks, so far apart that whenever she saw her nephew he was half a size bigger or had some new development she didn’t even get to enjoy because it wasn’t safe for anyone to visit for long.

Harry.

Her poor sweet Harry. How could he be so young and yet the target for the most powerful wizard to ever live? How did he, at a great sum of fifteen months ever stand a chance? How could Voldemort ever think that power could be worth this.

How could she still hear his disgruntled cry, the one he got whenever Lily was more than a room away. Daisy was still buried deep in Sirius’ chest, his arms wrapped tightly around her but she pulled back, her snotty, red face confused at the noise. She’d been so consumed when she’d gotten here she hadn’t bothered to check the area but looking past Sirius she found his bike sitting not so far away and Hagrid standing beside it, his own face ruddy, but more importantly with a small tot nestled into his arm.

Harry Potter was alive.

And Daisy didn’t waste any time rushing to make sure her eyes weren’t deceiving her. He had been on the verge of crying but upon seeing her he settled, clinging to her just as tightly as she did him, resting her cheek on his head as a fresh wave of tears flooded her. Yet these were of relief.

‘What happened,’ she said, finally getting a hold of herself to look at Hagrid and Sirius for answers, ‘I don’t understand.’

‘Don’t know,’ Sirius said blankly, his grey eyes dull, ‘I don’t understand how.’

‘When I got here the house was like tha’. James and Lily wer’,’ Hagrid started though a sob rumbled through him at the mention of their names. Sirius cleared his throat, somehow able to take over from the half-giant even though his loss was arguably more consuming.

‘He’s hurt. He’ll need to go to Dumbledore to be checked over to make sure he’s safe,’ Sirius said flatly, moving towards her and moving the thick mop of jet-black hair from Harry’s brow to reveal a thick gash on his forehead. It was obvious it had been cleared of blood but she could feel an aura radiating from it, it was a magical wound, that’s why they hadn’t healed it. Was this how he survived? The cost of living?

‘Right,’ Daisy mumbled.

‘Dais,’ Sirius said, tearing her eyes from the gash back to those flat grey eyes, ‘Voldemort’s gone but that doesn’t mean he is safe. He needs to go to Dumbledore.’

‘Okay, yeah okay,’ Daisy said, her senses finally starting to make an appearance. Sirius was right. As broken as they were feeling they still had a job to do. Keep Harry safe. That had been what they’d been doing since the day he was born, what James and Lily had made them promise to do when he’d asked them to be godparents.

‘And you have to take him,’ Sirius said quietly. At that Daisy faltered, her brow furrowing as she looked at him. He looked away, shifting under her scrutiny which didn’t reassure her at all.

‘What?’ was all she could ask.

‘You need to-’

‘What about you?’ she asked, that pit she had felt in her stomach before she’d come returning only now it was a chasm. One that put a lump in her throat and made her head spin with worry.

‘I have to go,’ Sirius said flatly.

‘Go? Go where?!’ she demanded, wiping the tears that were returning as she tried to keep her mind focused.

‘Dais,’ he sighed, swallowing thickly.

‘You can’t just leave!’ she protested but he didn’t seem to be hearing her. Whatever was in his head taking over as he shut everything down.

‘Go with Hagrid, take Harry to Dumbledore. Take the bike,’ he said firmly though he still refused to look at her, his focus on Harry as he tucked a finger under the baby’s pudgy chin, earning a considerably gummy smile in return. Sirius smiled back weakly at his godson.

‘Pads,’ she whispered, unable to wrap her head around what was happening.

‘Look after him, yeah?’ he asked, tears rolling down his cheeks when he finally looked at her. He couldn’t believe he was doing this, leaving like this, leaving her when he knew she needed him. He needed her too, like he always did, but there was something he had to do first, no matter the cost.

‘Sirius what are you talking-’

‘Dais I love you,’ Sirius whispered, moving his hand to her cheek. The skin was wet against his hand but he didn’t care. After all he wasn’t sure the next time he’d feel the touch of her again, ‘no matter what happens I need you to know that.’

‘Pads,’ she breathed shakily, panic mounting by the second.

‘And I’m sorry,’ he whispered.

‘Sirius please,’ she begged, ‘you can’t go. You can’t leave me-‘

‘Remember that,’ he said leaning in to press a kiss to her forehead. Harry whined at the intrusion, reaching to grasp at Sirius’ necklace but he detached him, kissing his chubby hand before he pushed him away and moved out of their grip.

‘Sirius,’ Daisy said, attempting to follow but he pushed her away glancing at Hagrid to intervene. He was behind her in a couple steps, wrapping his large arm around her and Harry and stopping her from moving after Sirius. Once they were anchored he turned around, wiping the tears from his cheeks as he walked away as if not being able to see her would stop them from coming. It was never going to work, not when he could still hear her pleading, ‘no! Hagrid let go! Let me, Sirius! Sirius, what are you, Hagrid please!’

And then he was gone, disapperating with a loud crack leaving the lane quiet and eerie. Only then did Hagrid let her go, watching her with a sad smile as she turned around unable to get a grip on what had just happened. Not that she had time to as Hagrid muttered, ‘he’s in Hogsmeade. Dumbledore that is. It’s a long way but ‘e’s right, the bike’s probably the safest way t’go.’

‘Right, yeah,’ Daisy mumbled numbly.

‘He’ll know what to do,’ Hagrid promised, gesturing for Daisy to hand Harry over so that she could climb into the sidecar of the motorbike. She went through the motions, settling into the seat though her mind was miles away. Not even when he handed Harry over did she snap out of it, millions of thoughts whizzing around in her brain. Thankfully she had plenty of time to think about them.

✵✵✵

The flight to Hogsmeade was a long and cold one because even though it was nightfall Hagrid stayed well up in the cloud to avoid being seen. And for the most part it was dark save for the glow of the waning moon and the glint of street lights as towns came and went below them. On a normal ride like the ones she and Sirius used to go on back when he’d first gotten the bike she’d be craning her neck to look at the colourful coast lines or vibrant dales as they passed by. When it was warm she’d stay in the side car but on cold nights like this she’d take to the back of the bike, wrapping herself around him, listening to the thud of his heart and the thrum of the engine, content as ever.

At this moment in time she wasn’t sure how she could ever have felt content. She wasn’t sure how she’d ever felt anything before, anything that wasn’t this dark rotting ache inside her. She couldn’t even say what it was. Sadness didn’t even seem to cover it; it didn’t feel like that held enough weight.

Because how could she describe the loss of James and Lily? She’d felt at a loss when her parents had died, the passing of Euphemia and Fleamont hurting just as much. When Marlene had been murdered, her entire family wiped off the face of the earth, she’d been distraught. Yet through all of those she’d managed to muddle through and keep going. Through those she’d had James and Lily.

She’d had James unrelenting optimism and kind-hearted reassurances.

James. At the thought of him another silent sob rolled through her. Because how could he be gone? How could a light as bright and infectious as his be gone when that didn’t seem possible. Even in the midst of the mess that was this war he’d remained upbeat and relentlessly confident even as they failed to gain any positive movement. Even having to go into hiding had not ripped that positivity from him.

‘Because he thought they would be coming out of it,’ her mind whispered, bringing a fresh wave of tears. Of course. Of course he would have thought they’d make it. Of course he would have anticipated escaping the greatest wizard in the world unscathed. James Potter could do anything.

Or at least she had thought so. With that thought her mind wandered to what his last moments were like. Had he been scared? When the most evil wizard in existence had turned up at his front door had he wanted to run away? No, knowing James he would’ve faced him head on if it had meant protecting his family he wouldn’t have even flinched.

But did that mean Lily had known what was coming? Had she had to live through it, knowing that there was no stopping him? Had she been scared? Daisy couldn’t bear to think of it. She couldn't bear to think of her sister, her perfect, practical, poised sister floundering in panic. She couldn’t think of her not knowing what to do, fearing for her baby’s life the way she feared for her husband’s or her own.

Had she thought of her? Hoped that somehow Harry would survive, that Daisy wouldn’t be left with no one. Even if she was destined to live without her sister, her other half, she’d have a part of her. She’d have someone.

But that was the thing. Daisy was supposed to have someone. She was supposed to have Sirius, he was supposed to be here with her, navigating through this grief together. But he’d just left her behind and it didn’t make any sense. The only thing she could tell herself was that there must be a reason for it, some protocol or command of the order that he’d known about and had to uphold regardless of how hard it was. Because he wouldn’t leave her, not for good reason.

Not when she needed him.

And she did. Up here in the bitter winds and freezing temperatures she needed him more than ever. She needed him to wrap his arms around her and tell her it was going to be okay no matter how hollow it sounded. She needed him to tell her they’d survive this. They had to. For Harry.

He’d been quiet for most of the flight, wrapped in his baby blanket and the gargantuan scarf Hagrid had draped over them which acted more like a duvet than a garment, but as they passed into the Scottish highlands he’d disturbed the frigid Scottish climate too cold for him to be comfortable. Now he was standing on her lap tugging on her hair to get her attention. She was so lost in her thoughts she didn’t notice him for a moment until after a particularly sharp tug upon which she broke, yanking it from his fist angrily snapping, ‘Harry stop it!’

At that his bright green eyes widened and his lip started trembling, threatening to unearth the mightiest of screams. Except Daisy wanted to scream too. She wanted to scream and shout and cry and sob and let everything inside her out. But she couldn’t. She couldn’t and she couldn’t snap at Harry because what good would it do? How was he to know the weight of the situation? All he knew was that he was somewhere foreign, cold and tired and miles away from his mummy and daddy. He didn’t know that he’d never see them again. He didn’t know that at that moment Daisy felt as though her world was caving in on itself.

He wanted fun auntie Daisy. The one who never yelled at him or told him off. The one that made James and Lily tear their hair out when she gave him sweets or bought him presents for no reason, yes even James ‘buy anything on a whim’ Potter. He wanted his uncle Padfoot who’d see the fat tears rolling down his cheeks and turn into his favourite furry friend. He wanted his dad to make him laugh or his mum to cuddle him, making him feel better instantly.

He wanted all the things Daisy wanted.

But they weren’t going to get it, ever again. All they had now was each other and he didn’t deserve to be shouted at.

‘Sorry munchkin,’ she cooed shakily, wiping the damp tracks of tears from her cheeks, ‘m’sorry I shouted. What’s the matter?’

Harry grumbled and nestled into her neck allowing her to wrap her arms around him. As he nestled whingily into her she realised he was still tired which was no surprise given the tumultuous night he’d been through. He was always needy after he awoke begging to be cuddled for a while until he felt ready to face being awake for good.

‘He’s probably ready for sumthin’ to eat,’ Hagrid said, the most he’d spoken the entire ride, ‘we’re not far now. ‘Bout half an hour or so.’

‘Right,’ Daisy said, her voice cracking from the lack of use. Hagrid was probably right, the sky was growing lighter now even though the sun was nowhere to be seen given the lateness of the year. Then again in the Scottish highlands there wasn’t much chance of the sun showing up at all which was backed by how cold it still was though as Hagrid started to descend, dipping below the cloud barrier towards the small settlement of Hogsmeade, it grew slightly warmer.

Whether it was Hagrid’s heft or the hardness of the mud underneath them the bike hit the floor with a thud, making Harry fuss and Daisy to feel a disconnect between her neck and brain. Hagrid dismounted rather gracefully, offering a large hand out for the toddler whilst Daisy got herself straight. Once sorted she took him back, the pair of them feeling rather put out even if the separation was momentary. Only then did Daisy look around, finding herself down the long lane that passed through the village out to the lookout post of the shrieking shack. A memory of traipsing down here on a snowy winter’s day with James bubbled in her mind but she shook it away as well as the tears it brought and followed Hagrid’s direction to enter through a back door.

Daisy walked through it and found herself in an entryway, her only options to go through an old wooden door or up a narrow staircase and given she didn't know where she was she waited for Hagrid to duck through and lead the way. As he closed the door behind them, locking the fresh air out and trapping her in the scent of stale ale she realised she was in a pub. She was sure it wasn’t the Three Broomsticks, they were too far out of town, so she reckoned more than likely it was the Hog’s Head though why Dumbledore would be here she didn’t.

Either way she didn’t care, following Hagrid up the rickety old staircase that moaned and protested under his weight as he climbed to too thin stairs. The room he led her to was a reasonable size but it appeared smaller due to the sheer amount of furniture that had been crammed inside it. An old couch and armchairs were nestled by the roaring fire and one half of the wall had been taken up by a small kitchenette, stocked with the bare necessities, but the majority of the room resembled an office, albeit a messy one. Yet however chaotic and unlike Dumbledore’s it was he still looked quite at home stationed behind the large desk.

By his side was a woman she’d only ever seen in the prophet. Milicent Bagnold a hard faced, unyielding woman with a permanent look of displeasure riddled upon her face. ‘She looks like she’s lost a galleon and found a knut,’ Sirius had said the day she was appointed Minister for Magic. She looked that way now, her beady eyes narrowing as Daisy walked in no doubt looking bedraggled as ever.

In contrast McGonagall, who was by Dumbledore’s other side, looked positively motherly with her face growing concerned and sad as she took in Daisy and Harry, who was watching them all curiously. She even moved to hug her, her boney hand on Daisy’s shoulder, but Dumbledore stopped her, rising from his seat and placing his hands on the desk before clearing his throat in warning as he said, ‘Minerva.’

McGonagall glanced at Daisy and then sighed, backing up and away from the pair of them leaving them standing in the middle of the room exposed to all. Dumbledore offered her a smile but it didn’t have the normal warmth to it, the matter too grave that not even he could instill hope in anyone. And to her surprise he didn’t offer her any words of comfort or hope instead he merely asked, ‘with whom did you share a dormitory with during your time at Hogwarts?’

‘What?’ Daisy asked, the question coming from the left field though as he started to repeat himself she realised he was still following protocol. Even when Voldemort was dead. When her sister and James were dead. He was still acting to the letter as if it mattered.

‘Alice, Mar and Lil,’ she parroted robotically, finally earning herself a sympathetic smile though it only came from McGonagall. Dumbledore just shrugged and said, ‘sorry I had to ask. Hagrid, what is the name of your new puppy?’

‘Fang Dumbledore sir,’ Hagrid replied, ‘what was the last thing the three of us spoke of?’

‘James and Lily’s passing,’ Dumbledore replied.

Daisy fought the wave of tears that came at his words not that Hagrid fared as well, sniffling and wiping his still red eyes with the corner of his sleeve. In fact all she could think to say was, ‘you knew?’

‘Ah,’ Dumbledore said, finally offering a sad smile, ‘word got to us early I’m afraid. That’s why I sent Hagrid.’

‘We were hoping it was a false alarm,’ McGonagall added, ‘though I suspect-‘

‘It’s not,’ Daisy said flatly.

‘Is he,’ Dumbledore said, gesturing to the toddler in her arms, his eyes still bright and inquisitive in this new environment.

‘He’s fine from what we can tell but well there’s this,’ Daisy said, pushing the mop of black hair from his brow so that the lightning shaped cut was visible to them. She hadn’t dared to look at it since Sirius had shown her, the queasy feeling it gave her returning at the sight of it.

‘Mmm,’ Dumbledore mused, not easing her queasy feeling.

‘What? What is it?’ she asked worriedly.

‘A curse,’ Dumbledore said evenly.

‘A curse?’ Daisy asked, instinctively brushing her hand across it. Harry giggled and grabbed hold of it, playing with the ring on her finger which she allowed him to do. She was just thankful he was content.

‘A rebound curse it looks like. From whatever Voldemort tried to do,’ Dumbledore clarified, his words earning a shiver from everyone but Daisy. Once recovered the minister took a step forward, a question on the tip of her tongue though all she asked was, ‘Dumbledore?’

‘We know that the prophecy spoke of Harry being the one with the power to defeat Lord Voldemort, yes?’ Dumbledore asked, unable to hide his contempt for having to explain himself to the woman. The minister nodded, ‘well, what the Dark Lord may not have thought is that the power may always be in existence.’

‘But he’s just a baby!’ McGonagall protested.

‘And he has just survived the most evil wizard in the history of our world. With only a mark to suggest otherwise,’ Dumbledore shrugged, ‘his scar by effect is proof of it.’

The room was quiet, contemplating how a mere child could possibly have stopped the greatest evil any of them had ever known when his parents and countless others before him hadn’t been able to. Daisy didn’t know what to think but all she knew was that she didn’t like the look in the minister’s eyes, fear and awe. Daisy shifted Harry in her arms, jostling him until his head was on her shoulder, facing away from them all. Dumbledore sensed the reservation in her and cleared his throat, distracting the woman as he said, ‘now of course he may have had help in the matter. From what I am told James and Lily lay down their lives which I can only imagine acted as protection.’

‘Blood magic,’ McGonagall said gravely.

‘Yes Minerva,’ Dumbledore agreed, ‘blood magic. A deep protection, one of love.’

‘Then you were right Dumbledore,’ the minister said firmly, ‘it must be them. Family is the way to go in this instance.’

‘But Dumbledore must it be them?’ McGonagall sighed, ‘from what I’ve seen.’

‘They are family Minerva,’ Dumbledore implored.

‘I’m sorry, what are you on about?’ Daisy asked, unable to find the thread of the conversation through all the waffle though the knot in her stomach told her something was amiss. They’d been deep in conversation, the three of them debating with one another but they looked up as she spoke as if they’d forgotten she was even there.

‘Harry must be protected,’ the minister said as though it were obvious. Daisy fought the urge to roll her eyes merely biting back through gritted teeth, ‘yes I know that.’

‘And the blood magic in him will serve as added protection but our primary defence would be for him to live away from the wizarding world whilst everything is fresh and Voldemort’s followers are still at large,’ the minister explained, ‘which is why he should go and live with his aunt and uncle.’

‘Right,’ Daisy agreed though as she looked at them, sharing awkward glances, that knot in her stomach grew, ‘wait you mean Petunia?!’

‘Miss Evans,’ Dumbledore said with a sigh.

‘You cannot seriously want to send him to live with Petunia!’ Daisy said, her voice growing shriller which disturbed Harry even though she pressed on, ‘that is not happening!’

‘Daisy,’ McGonagall said softly, ‘you’re young and grieving-‘

‘And?’ Daisy snapped, ‘if anything who better! We know what he’s lost. Petunia hasn’t even met him! She doesn’t even like James or wizards for that matter that’s why they wanted him to be with me, us, should anything happen. We’re his aunt and uncle.’

‘You mean his godparents,’ the minister corrected.

‘Yes!’ Daisy said indignantly.

‘We’re supposed to trust him to you two,’ the minister asked, quirking a perfectly sculpted brow with a look of disdain.

‘Why wouldn’t you!’ Daisy shouted, ‘Sirius and I-‘

‘Sirius Black has just been apprehended for the murder of Peter Pettigew and twelve muggles,’ the minister challenged. Daisy faltered, the words not landing properly in her brain.

‘What?’ she asked, looking to McGonagall and Dumbledore for some clarification but they only offered looks of sadness. With a slight air of smugness the minister produced a copy of the daily prophet from her robes and dumped it on the table, front page out.

There, emblazoned on the front page was an article about the death of Lord Voldemort and the news of Harry, dubbing her nephew as ‘The Boy Who Lived’ but she turned over to the following page and there in front of her was a headline that made her heart stop.

BLACK HEIR TURNED MASS MURDERER

The photo below it was of a street where body bags and rubble littered the ground but she didn’t look at it, jumping straight to the article below it. She could feel eyes on her but she couldn’t make sense of the words, they wouldn’t sit right in her brain. ‘Mass murder’, ‘Death Eater’, ‘Peter Pettigrew’ were the only things that jumped out at her.

‘No,’ she whispered, whether to herself or them she wasn’t sure. But this had to be incorrect. Sirius was not a murderer, not to muggles, not to anyone. Not one of his best friends. A wave of grief, that admittedly was all too familiar in these past few hours, crashed through her again at the idea of losing Peter. How was this happening, they had to be wrong. They’d made a mistake they had to have, ‘no he wouldn’t do that. He couldn’t-’

‘He would if his master was dead,’ the minister countered.

‘What are you talking about?’ Daisy asked exhaustedly.

‘Daisy, did you not wonder how Voldemort managed to find James and Lily,’ Dumbledore said quietly.

‘Well there must’ve been a mole like we’ve suspected for weeks,’ Daisy started before a pointed look made the implication dawn on her. And just like she couldn’t accept that Sirius could be involved in murder she couldn’t believe what they were suggesting, ‘no, no, not Sirius. He wouldn’t do that to James-‘

‘Daisy,’ McGonagall said sadly.

‘He was his brother! He wouldn’t do that to him or Lil. He wouldn’t do that to Harry!’ she shouted, her voice echoing around the wooden walls. What she wanted to scream was that he wouldn’t do that to her. He would never betray her like that. James either.

‘Or he’s a master manipulator to have you fooled as you are,’ the minister said walking towards her as she eyed her menacingly, ‘or you’re with him.’

‘What?’ Daisy breathed, her breath shaky from shouting and her arm starting to hurt where Harry had unsettled and started to fidget pulling at her hair for attention. The minister didn’t pay her notice, turning to look at the others, dismissing her as if she were a child in timeout, ‘you were right Dumbledore.’

‘Albus please,’ McGonagall said, casting a look at Daisy before pleading with the headmaster who seemed to be contemplating.

‘She’s not to be trusted,’ the minister reiterated.

‘What?’ Daisy gasped, ‘how dare you!’

‘Oh look at you!’ the minister snapped, brushing the young girl aside as she carried on speaking to Dumbledore, ‘she’s a mess! Erratic and hot-headed just like you said. He is the most famous wizard in the world Dumbledore he needs to be safe-’

‘He’s my nephew!’ Daisy shrieked.

‘And a murderer’s godson,’ the minister spat before she got a hold of herself and straightened up, apparently embarrassed at her loss of control as she decreed, ‘he must go to his other family Dumbledore surely you must agree?’

‘You can’t,’ Daisy whispered, panic setting in, ‘you can’t give him to Petunia, he's never even met her!’

‘But she’s a relative,’ Dumbledore countered.

‘I’m a relative!’ Daisy shrieked.

‘And a mentally unbalanced one by the looks of things!’ the minister sneered.

‘Dumbledore please think about this! Daisy has a point, hasn’t he lost enough? Harry should go to someone he knows. Someone he’s familiar with-‘

‘Why not give him to the murderer himself!’ the minister challenged, folding her arms across her chest.

‘You know that is not the same!’ McGonagall said shrilly, ‘didn’t you see her? She looked just as blindsided as the rest of us by the news of Siri, of him.’

‘And we’re supposed to trust her word for it?’ the minister asked.

‘I do not believe he had any other associates minister,’ Dumbledore said calmly.

But Daisy didn’t care. She wasn’t focused on who had done what or betrayed who. All she was thinking about was the idea of Harry being ripped from her, forced to spend his days with Petunia. McGonagall was right hadn’t Harry lost enough? Hadn’t she lost enough?

Her mind was still reeling from losing James and Lily but now Peter too. And Sirius.

No, no, no, it couldn’t be right. He couldn’t have been behind this there must be another explanation. Her Sirius couldn’t be a murderer. The boy who had been smart enough to flee the dark wizards at fifteen couldn’t fall in line with them now at the age of twenty one. He hated them more than anyone. He wouldn’t have betrayed his family for them. And they were family. He had promised her that.

He wouldn’t have done that to her. And if he had she would’ve known right? She would’ve seen it coming, right?

They lived together, climbed into the same bed every night, and spoke every day. Sure as the war had plodded on it had been tense. As restrictions and protocols had been implemented restricting what they could and could not speak of in their own home their conversations had become superficial and few. But she would’ve known right? After all they’d all suspected a traitor in their midst but she would’ve spotted if he was underneath her nose, wouldn’t she?

As she’d been dwelling on it she hadn't realised she had been backing up away from the arguing and chaos of it all until she felt the cool metal of a door knob nestled in her back. At the clunk the group looked at her but she didn’t think, fleeing through it and slamming it closed behind her, locking it quickly behind her. She heard them rush towards her but she didn’t care not even when the minister called, ‘if you think you’re helping the matter you’re sorely mistaken missy!’

Daisy didn’t pay the old hag any attention. She wasn’t trying to flee. She wasn’t even trying to hide. She just wanted a moment to herself. A moment away from all the worry and accusations. A moment to regroup. To make sense of it all.

But it was something she couldn’t make sense of and so she didn’t bother and instead sank to the floor, allowing the tears to pour from her. Harry seemed concerned about his blubbering auntie but when his attempts to make her feel better by pressing sloppy kisses to her damp cheeks didn’t improve the situation he gave up, opting to nestle into her as she wept.

She didn’t know how long she spent crying on the floor of that bedroom. In fact she was surprised Harry hadn’t started to fuss after a while but when she glanced down she found him asleep, thoroughly exhausted. He didn’t even disturb as the door unlatched creaking open. Daisy didn’t fight it. She wasn’t sure she had much fight left in her truth be told. Instead she allowed McGonagall to enter and watched as she sat herself down on the floor beside her, albeit rather ungracefully as she landed with an ‘oomph.’

They were quiet for a moment both staring at the now closed door, the only thing to be heard was a gentle sniffle from the blonde.

‘Daisy,’ McGonagall said after a beat.

‘He wouldn’t,’ Daisy whispered, more for herself than anyone else, ‘he wouldn’t do this I know he wouldn’t.’

‘I know,’ McGonagall said softly. Daisy turned to look at her with surprise. McGonagall sighed, ‘I know he wouldn’t and I don’t want to believe it either trust me. But there is no other explanation. After all he was their secret keeper wasn’t he?’

‘Yes but they,’ Daisy started but McGonagall placed a hand on her knee to silence her.

‘Daisy you can keep believing it and if you truly truly Sirius is innocent then who am I to tell you not to,’ McGonagall reasoned, her lined face growing more sombre as she said, ‘but Harry needs you.’

‘I know,’ Daisy whispered.

‘I have watched your sister Daisy and I do not like what I saw. He needs you. He needs a connection to our kind even if he’s kept away from all of this,’ she said gesturing to nothing, ‘but Dumbledore needs to be able to trust you and right now he is struggling.’

‘How can I make him trust me?’ Daisy asked.

‘You need to decide what you want more. Harry or your loyalty to someone who may very well have betrayed you,’ McGonagall said, reaching out and moving a limp strand of hair from Daisy’s face, a sad smile on her lips as she said, ‘I know it’s hard to believe we can be taken for fools but it is not impossible.’

And with that she climbed up, groaning as her bones protested, before scuttling from the room.

That was the question.

Did she believe Sirius could have betrayed them? No, but why? Because she loved him? Because he told her he loved her? Did that mean anything when it came down to it? All her life she had been the emotional twin. The volatile one. She’d always allowed emotions and feelings to cloud her judgment but where had that gotten her. More importantly it wasn’t just her she had to think of, it was Harry. At that she wondered what Lily would think. Lily would look at the facts.

James would tell her there was no way this could be true but not her Lil. She’d believe it all unless the cold hard evidence pointed another way and right now it looked like it did. He was their secret keeper after all. He had been seen murdering twelve muggles in broad daylight. He’d murdered their friend.

‘Blown to smithereens,’ had been the phrasing in the prophet and with that a new wave of nausea hit and she lurched forward knocking Harry off her knee as she attempted to reach the bin but missed spewing the watery remnants of stomach acid onto the wooden floor. With a flourish of her wand she cleaned it up and then stood, scooping a disgruntled Harry from the floor before she headed out back into the room.

The minister was gone now and McGonagall, Dumbledore and Hagrid had all taken to sitting around the fire though admittedly Hagrid looked as if the chair he was sitting in had sprouted out of him rather than him sitting in it. Daisy sighed and settled into the only empty armchair passing Harry to McGonagall on her way so that they might both have some respite.

She couldn’t be focused on him at this moment in time. She was playing ball.

‘I’m glad you could finally join us,’ Dumbledore said as though she’d only just gotten there and had not been squirrelled away for god knows how long, ‘tea?’

‘No thanks,’ Daisy said, the acrid taste of vomit still in her mouth. From beside her McGonagall conjured a baby bottle and tested the warmth of the milk on her wrist before offering it to Harry who took it happily, nestling back into the older witch as he drank. Daisy debated taking it off him. After all the sun was rising through the window which meant he’d be due a proper breakfast then again she realised there wasn't much point in doing so. It wasn’t as though he was sticking to the militant regime Lily had been implementing recently to improve his sleeping and eating. Fed was fed at this point. Not to mention she could get him back on track when they were settled somewhere but to do that she’d need to play the game, toe the line and make Dumbledore think she was ready to become his guardian.

And so with the taste of bile growing stronger in her mouth she said, ‘I’m sorry about all that. I know what you must think but well my entire life just sort of imploded in one night.’

‘It’s understandable,’ Dumbledore said, ‘quite a shock for us all.’

‘I just can’t believe,’ she was going to say ‘that he did it’ but she could feel their eyes heavy on her and defaulted to, ‘that I could be so blind.’

‘Spies are good at what they do, Miss Evans,’ Dumbledore said, ‘that’s why they’re spies.’

‘Had us all fooled the nasty lil toerag,’ Hagrid grunted. Daisy had to will herself not to flinch.

‘Either way the matter is being dealt with,’ Dumbledore said diplomatically. At that her ears pricked up her words coming before she thought, ‘how exactly?’

‘Azkaban,’ Dumbledore said.

‘Right,’ she said, forcing the lump in her throat down as all the tales and anecdotes she’d heard about the brutality of the place rushed to the forefront of her mind.

‘Cut and dry I’m afraid, which means he’ll be there by nightfall and more importantly away from Harry,’ Dumbledore said.

‘Yeah, right,’ Daisy mumbled, trying to push the idea of shackles and dementors from her mind.

‘Miss Evans,’ Dumbledore said, capturing her attention once more. His tone was serious now. This was the crux of the matter and he was scrutinising her every move to make sure her answers aligned with what he needed to hear. Daisy straightened up, pushing her shoulders down as she tried to keep her breathing level. Dumbledore continued, ‘I know what the minister may think but I can assure you I do not see this matter the same way. I believe in your innocence.’

‘Thank you,’ she said quietly. She wanted to scream that he had no reason not to, that she was innocent, but she didn't bother. Now was not the time for charging in without thought.

‘But that doesn’t mean I am sure about what should happen with regards to Harry. Voldemort may be gone but his followers live on. And like the actions of Sirius Black we cannot know what they might do now they are without a leader,’ Dumbledore said, ‘that is why I thought your sister to be a good fit. Not because of doubt for yourself but because by the very essence of being a muggle she has more protection than anyone. Blood magic may very well protect the boy but a muggle world is a buffer to everything.’

‘What do you mean?’ Daisy asked, confused.

‘I do not wish to rip Harry from what he knows any more than you do. I understand that you are a big part of his life but his life as it is cannot continue,’ Dumbleodore said.

‘I don’t understand,’ Daisy said.

‘Harry needs to be raised away from our world. As a muggle,’ Dumbledore said flatly.

‘What?’ Daisy gasped.

‘He needs to be raised away from-’

‘Magic! You want to deprive him of magic!’ Daisy baulked recalling her own mundane muggle upbringing, the childhood that had felt as though it was in black and white until the age of eleven when magic had turned everything technicolour.

‘I want to keep him from other wizards,’ Dumbledore corrected, ‘he is vulnerable.’

‘And how is leaving him without magic protecting him?’ Daisy asked.

‘He won't be without magic. He’ll have you. Of course you would have to play the part of a muggle, pretend so to speak, but in time he will learn the truth. He will come to Hogwarts as you and his parents did. He will be a magnificent wizard Daisy,’ Dumbledore assured, ‘but for now the wizarding world is no place for him. He’ll be left to be a legend in his own right without having to live as one under everyone’s scrutiny.’

Daisy thought about it for a moment. She could see their point. Her barely two year old nephew had just taken down the most evil wizard in history that wasn’t exactly something people would get over in a hurry. Whether good or bad. If they stayed in the wizarding world they’d be just as isolated anyway, confined by prying eyes and ears. To live as a muggle would keep him safe and free.

But to deprive him of magic?

To lie to him until he was of an age to understand it all felt wrong. It was depriving him a piece of himself. The true memory of his parents. Not to mention depriving herself of it. How could she speak of James and Lily in earnest with so many lies nestled in between to make everything sound normal.

Then again what choice would she have. To deny Dumbledore would only end up with him being shipped off to Petunia’s with him being forced to live this life anyway only without the benefit of her beside him. It was a lose-lose situation.

‘So what do we do?’ Daisy asked, earning a kind smile in return as Dumbledore rose from his seat, smoothing out his dark purple robes for a moment.

‘For now stay here,’ he said, ‘I’ll have a room set up for you whilst we make arrangements.’

‘He can stay with me?’ she asked, though as Dumbledore looked over his half-moon spectacles eyeing her closely she panicked that she’d asked the wrong thing.

‘Do you promise to fulfill your end of this agreement?’ he asked.

‘I promise,’ Daisy nodded.

‘Excellent,’ he smiled as though he’d just agreed for the Hogwarts house elves to make apple crumble instead of jam roly-poly for dessert and not a life changing decision, ‘Minerva if you could speak to Aberforth regarding a room and then if you could acquire some provisions for them both.’

‘Yes Dumbledore,’ McGonagall said, slipping Harry off her lap and onto Daisy’s in such a fluid motion that he didn’t even disturb and instead kept guzzling away at his bottle which was near done.

‘Hagrid come with me,’ Dumbledore said, pressing his hand to the man’s shoulder, ‘I have things for you to do whilst I’m with the minister.’

‘Right you are Dumbledore,’ Hagrid said, pulling himself from the chair and heading out the door McGonagall had just headed through.

Once it was just her and Dumbledore alone he smiled at her and nodded before saying, ‘I know this isn’t easy Miss Evans. But I must ask you to trust in me.’

And with that he flounced from the room, closing the door behind him gently. Daisy flopped back exhausted, finally closing her eyes for the first time since last night. None of it seemed real.

James. Lily. Voldemort. Peter. Sirius. Azkaban. Death. Harry.

Everything bounced around in her brain in a jumble of pain and sorrow but as she heard the teet of the bottle detaching and felt it fall into her lap she looked to find Harry watching her, his hand now done holding the bottle and instead holding her necklace.

Her Daisy chain that she’d worn every day since it had been bought for her.

A reminder of the now tainted memories it held. Without thinking she yanked at it, snapping the clasp apart and taking it from the boy's hand. He allowed her to, watching as she slipped it into her back pocket unsure of what to do with it just yet.

‘Just you and me eh?’ she asked, taking his hand in hers and kissing it, ‘just you and auntie Dais.’

Harry gurgled and smiled gumily at her.

‘Merlin help us both eh?’

SIRIUS BLACK/SERIES TAGS

@mysteriouslydelicateface @caitlin1996 @imthebadguyyy @maeisafangirl

#my writing #harry potter #sirius black fic #sirius black x ofc #marauders #marauders fic #sirius black x daisy evans #the other evans girl #the marauders #james potter #lily evans #lily potter #sirius black #remus lupin #peter pettigrew

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rurpleplayssims · 3 years

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I have a couple of character asks for you - Roselyn and Zoey!

Thank you for the character asks @pixeldolly ! You chose Roselyn Young and Zoey Cooper so here are their responses!

Let's start with Roselyn!

Sexuality Headcanon: Bisexual - she's been with both men and women in the past but has only had 'serious' relationships with males.

Gender Headcanon: She is Cisgender (female).

A ship I have with said character: I'm shipping the Roselyn/Zoey ship!

A BROTP I have with said character: She gets on with quite a few people, having always been a confident individual who isn't intimidated easily. Feisty is another word that comes to mind to describe Roselyn. She is best friends with her elder sister Emily and is happy to support her whenever she can, hence why she's helping out with the restaurant. She gets on well with her ex-boyfriend Jasper Morgan who is her closest male friend in town. She also gets on extremely well with their founder Althea.

A NOTP I have with said character: Her relationship with Jasper is well and truly over but thankfully they had a very amicable breakup, especially given they are in a very small town where everyone knows and talks to each other! I know various people liked the idea of Roselyn getting pregnant from Jasper before their breakup but Roselyn is very serious about her birth control. It also doesn't fit Jasper's character to have children outside a dedicated relationship. Roselyn is not fussed about having children herself, she has no desire to help populate a town like her sister does!

A random headcanon: I LOVE the map that @potentialfate-sims made up for her series and I believe the various maxis and fan-made sims are all in the same world as the folk in Campbell Quay. So, for example, Pleasantview exists in the 'world' my sims live in. Sounds really obvious to say it as it's the same game. They just don't interact as I like having my own ideas and creativity flow. This would also help the immersion in my head about Ellen Ripley moving in from a neighbourhood/university that actually isn't in my game. I'm not exactly sure whereabouts CQ will be on that map however, anywhere next to a big river! 🤣 I would also love it if @moocha-muses 's Owl Creek and @pixeldolly 's Walden was canon as well!

General Opinion over said character: Roselyn has a past and I've barely scratched the surface so far. Half of it I'm not 100% sure of yet but I let my characters speak for themselves. What I love about Roselyn, other than being a walking model of Bella Goth, (red outfits/black hair) is that you can already see how far she has come. She was very confident, physically and as a person when she first moved to CQ. Now, through her past experiences and her love for Zoey, you see a gentler but insecure side of her. Hands down one of my favourite characters to write. Random fun fact, I pronounce her name Ros-Lyn. (silent E)

Now let's do Zoey's answers!

Sexuality Headcanon: Zoey is bisexual and she has had a couple serious relationships in the past, each with a male and female respectively.

Gender Headcanon: She is Cisgender (female).

A ship I have with said character: As stated above, I ship Zoey with Roselyn. In many ways, they compliment each other and they both have quite feisty tempers.

A BROTP I have with said character: Besides Roselyn, Zoey has had very few females friends that didn't become lovers or distant before she moved to CQ. She gets on well with everyone in town and is actually *spoiler* becoming good friends with the newer females in town.

A NOTP I have with said character: Her engagement with Tyler. If you're up to speed with the series, you know why. Tyler fundamentally is quite childish and not in the way that is acceptable, especially for an expectant-father. Zoey is at the exasperated stage or anger where she is fast losing the faith that he will be there to support her at all. I think we're all feeling the same to be honest.

A random headcanon: Also I am not sure what date/year to mark each of the events other than the seasons/years. I think that breaks too much immersion in my eyes, and I don't think I'm the only one who thinks that.

General Opinion over said character: Zoey is sweet, kind and very caring. Great characteristics in a person who still dreams of becoming a fully qualified doctor. She is also a massive fan of pets and is considering getting a cat. Ever since she was a child (and both her parents are in the medical profession) she wanted to be a vet. But when she realised some of the depressing facts of being a vet, she reconsidered and decided on healing people instead.

#character ask #CampbellQuayBaCC #Roselyn Young #Zoey Cooper #SEND ME A CHARACTER AND I’LL DO THIS;#ask #RurpleAnswers

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aion-rsa · 3 years

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Why Chronicles of Narnia’s Santa Claus Celebrates Christmas with Weapons of War

https://ift.tt/3n3CscT

Anyone who adapts the works of C.S. Lewis for the screen will find they have a few odd things to contend with. We have never seen a screen version of Prince Caspian, for example, in which young children Susan and Lucy go around cavorting with Bacchus, the god of wine, and his wild Bacchants, for the very good reason that it comes across as seriously strange and more than a little disturbing.

But the oddest moment in The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe, Lewis’ first written The Chronicles of Narnia novel and the most often adapted, cannot be so easily lifted out. In that fantasy epic, the first major sign that the White Witch’s eternal winter is fading is the appearance of Father Christmas (aka Santa Claus), who has been kept out of Narnia ever since the Witch arrived.

Father Christmas gives three of the four child protagonists magical gifts that are both far more impressive and far more dangerous than most children expect to find waiting for them on Christmas morning, and these gifts play important roles in the story, not only in The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe, but in its sequel Prince Caspian as well.

How Father Christmas Signals Springtime

Lewis’ friend J.R.R. Tolkien famously disliked the Narnia Chronicles, as he told David Kolb in a letter. Lewis’ biographer George Sayer and Tolkien’s biographer Humphrey Carpenter both suggest that one of the reasons for this was the mixing of mythologies in the Chronicles. Carpenter particularly singles out the combination of Father Christmas—a mythologized Christian saint—with Greco-Roman fauns and nymphs, and talking animals, as one of Tolkien’s main issues with the stories. Too many different things all jumbled up together.

Other scholars have doubted whether this in particular was the cause of Tolkien’s dislike, but it’s easy to see why it seems a likely factor. Tolkien was a firm believer in the importance of believable, consistent secondary world creation, and the appearance of a Christian saint in a world dominated by characters from Greco-Roman and Norse pagan mythologies seems rather strange. Tolkien is far from the only reader to find the big bearded man’s sudden appearance odd—and his disappearance, never to be heard from again, for poor Edmund never even gets a single present from him despite living in Narnia and reigning as King for 15 years.

Lewis, however, was determined to keep Father Christmas in the story and not everyone finds his presence a problem. When Lucy Pevensie is first told that the White Witch has made it “always winter, but never Christmas,” she responds the same way any child would, crying “how awful!” The primary target audience of the Narnia stories is children, and the story is told in a way that’s meant to appeal to children.

Lewis clearly realized that a child’s response to an eternal winter would quite likely be “goody, it must be Christmas every day!” and that the lack of Christmas needs to be specified to show how awful the Witch’s winter is. Andrew Adamson’s film version from 2005 shows the same understanding. When young Lucy lays eyes on Father Christmas, she yells “Presents!” That’s what Christmas and Santa Claus means to young children, after all.

How have Narnians, living in a world where Jesus’ role is fulfilled by a talking lion, come to have an understanding of the Christian festival of Christmas? P.H. Brazier points out that, as Lewis later established in The Magician’s Nephew, (British) humans have been living in and ruling Narnia since it was created. So in story, it is not actually that strange that Narnia’s British-descended kings and queens introduced Christmas and the name of Father Christmas for the red-coated man who brings presents at that time of year into Narnia, even without bringing the story of Jesus along with it.

Additionally, the British name “Father Christmas,” like the French title of “Pere Noël,” (and unlike Americans’ use of “Santa Claus”), avoids any clear connection with the Christian “Saint Nicholas.” It also opens up the possibility of this being a mythological figure connected to the more secular side of Christmas.

Let’s face it, if we’re going to start getting really picky about these things, then what exactly are we going to do with the “holiday” lands in The Nightmare Before Christmas and other fantasy versions of Santa that are far removed from their Christian original story?

And Father Christmas has an important role to play in The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe. His appearance is the very first sign that the Witch’s hold is weakening and the long winter is ending. Although the British Father Christmas has more or less become the American Santa Claus these days, his origins aren’t just in the story of Saint Nicholas. He is also a character in medieval Mummers’ Plays, which celebrated the annual death of vegetation, crops, and so on in autumn and winter, and their resurrection and re-birth in spring.

Father Christmas was a personification of Christmas, and so represents when the darkest time of year also brings light and joy before the turning of the seasons towards brighter days. The usefulness of this symbolic figure for the story of Narnia and how its endless winter becomes spring, alongside the death and resurrection of the Christ-figure Aslan, thus becomes inescapable.

Father Christmas/Santa Claus is also, of course, a Christian figure, and Disney and Walden Media’s marketing for their 2005 adaptation leaned heavily on its Christian themes, especially in certain parts of America. The previous year’s The Passion of the Christ had broken box office records and was for some time the biggest earning R-rated movie ever made (until Deadpool de-throned it in 2016). The Christian market was suddenly on movie studios’ radar, and an adaptation of Lewis’ famously Christian-themed books seemed perfect to cash in on this new discovery. It’s no wonder, then that there was no strong desire to edit out this most obviously Christian element of the story.

Why Christmas Means War in Narnia

There’s another important aspect of Father Christmas’ appearance in the story though, and one brought out especially effectively in Adamson’s film. That aspect is the wartime setting of the story, and the surprisingly violent nature of the gifts Father Christmas gives the three children he meets. (The third Pevensie sibling, Edmund, isn’t with the others when they meet him, because he has temporarily defected to join the White Witch—a choice he comes to regret pretty quickly!)

All three children are given weapons along with some advice about how to use them. Oldest sibling Peter is given a sword and shield and told that they are “tools, not toys”—Peter will soon be required to use these weapons in war and to become High King of Narnia afterward. The need for him to grow up almost immediately is clear. Susan is given a magical horn that will summon help, and a bow and arrow, which in Lewis’ original book, she is told to use “only at great need.”

Lucy, the youngest, is given magical healing cordial, and a small dagger, also to be used “to defend yourself at great need.” In the book, both Susan and Lucy are firmly told that they are not to fight “in the battle.” The girls are therefore put into traditional wartime roles for women as helpers and healers, and Peter is left to lead the fighting.

The violence of the story reflects the background violence of its setting. The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe was written in the late 1940s, a few years after after the end of World War II, and is set during that cataclysmic war. The year isn’t specified, but the children are evacuated from London, which suggests 1940 during the Blitz bombing of London and the Battle of Britain as a likely setting.

This date was later confirmed by Lewis himself when he put together a timeline of Narnian history some time after finishing the whole series. This is one reason why Edmund is so excited at the prospect of eating Turkish Delight—he is living in a country in which sugar is rationed and sweets are a rare treat. Which doesn’t excuse him for betraying his brother and sisters “for sweeties,” as the White Witch puts it in the film, but it does provide some context for how important Turkish Delight seems to be to him!

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25 Unsung Christmas Icons

By Gavin Jasper

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The Christmas Chronicles 2: Who or What is the Belsnickel?

By Natalie Zutter

Adamson’s film emphasizes the wartime setting of the story far more than earlier adaptations, opening on an air raid over London and showing the children racing to escape the falling bombs. The children talk about the war and about their father being away fighting in it, and directly compare their Narnian experiences to their earthly ones far more often than in other versions or in the original novel, where their evacuation is largely an excuse to get them staying in Professor Kirk’s house, and is based on Lewis’ own memories of having evacuees stay with him.

A wartime Father Christmas giving weapons of war to wartime children also requires a serious-looking figure, someone who makes the children feel “solemn,” as Lewis describes it in the book. The appearance of Father Christmas/Santa Claus in modern pop culture became fixed when Coca-Cola started using him in their advertising campaigns, dressing him in their company colors of red and white. Before that, he was just as likely to wear brown, or green, like Charles Dickens’ Ghost of Christmas Present (who is very similar to him).

Actor James Cosmo’s Father Christmas (who is not named on screen, to avoid confusing British audiences expecting “Father Christmas” and American audiences expecting “Santa Claus”) is not the Coke-drinking Santa. His robes are red, but they are a dark, maroon-red, fitting in better with the earthy tones of a snow-covered Narnia. Cosmo’s performance is carefully balanced to match. He laughs and is reasonably jolly, but he is also serious, bringing enough gravitas to the role to go with the very serious presents he’s giving.

Father Christmas’ gifts and advice are put to use at the climax of the story when Peter is required to lead an army into war without even Aslan’s presence to help him, Aslan having been inconveniently sacrificed at the altar of the Stone Table the night before. Of course the death of the Hero’s Mentor is a common trope in stories following Joseph Campbell’s template of the Hero’s Journey, allowing the Hero to prove their own worth independently before the end of the story. But expecting an untrained child to lead an army is a fairly extreme example.

Perhaps this was also part of Lewis’ ability to tap into young children’s games and fantasies, since plenty of children have played with toy swords in mock battles, but putting it on screen does have the potential to look rather strange.

In Adamson’s film, this problem is solved by changing the ages of the two older children. Whereas the four children in the BBC’s earlier adaptation all appeared to be very close in age to each other, Adamson’s Pevensies split neatly into two groups—a considerably older Peter and Susan (William Moseley was 18 by the time the film came out) and a much younger Edmund and Lucy. At the very beginning of the film, Peter glances uncomfortably at a solider barely older than himself, and during World War II many young men of Moseley’s age would have been fighting already (or serving in the Home Guard).

So Peter and Susan become characters who might more reasonably be expected to start taking on adult roles. The younger Edmund is initially kept further back from the battle with Mr. Beaver and the archers, while the older Peter actually leads the charge.

The sheer sexism of Father Christmas’ original advice in the book also presented a potential problem for a movie released in 2005, a time when women were still not allowed to fight on the front lines in the U.S. or UK armies (this changed in 2016 in both cases), but were serving in many other roles in armed forces around the world. When Lucy says that she is brave enough to fight in the battle too, she is told that “battles are ugly when women fight.” The implication seems to be that they are not ugly otherwise, which is very strange—and what is it that is so unnatural and ugly about women fighting, anyway?

Adamson’s film cleverly sidesteps this issue with a tweak to the dialogue. As we’ve seen, Peter and Susan are both far older in this version than they are implied to be in the books. Edmund is absent from the Father Christmas scene, so we see the much older teenagers given weapons to use, but he gives the much smaller child just a dagger for self-defence. When Lucy objects and says she thinks she could be brave enough to fight, Father Christmas says nothing about women, but just tells her that “battles are ugly affairs”—implying that it is her young age that he’s thinking of, not her gender.

When the much older Susan asks him “what happened to ‘battles are ugly affairs?’” on receiving her bow and arrow, he just laughs a little—in this version, there is no instruction for Susan to avoid the battle, and a brief moment is added in the eventual climax when she saves Edmund with a well-timed arrow before Lucy fulfils her job as a wartime nurse by healing him.

As Father Christmas drives away in the film, Lucy smugly tells her older sister, “I told you he was real.” It’s very funny and also fits rather nicely into some of the film’s overall themes, as Susan is always the sceptic, the Doubting Thomas; in Prince Caspian, she steadfastly refuses to believe Lucy has seen Aslan to the point it nearly gets them killed.

This is another aspect from the books played up in Adamson’s films, as Susan constantly doubts whether they can achieve anything in Narnia. When Peter first tries to use his new Christmas present, ‘sensible’ Susan screams at him, “just because some man in a red coat gives you a sword it doesn’t make you a hero!” as he tries to hold off a wolf attack on a frozen river, cheerfully ignoring the fact they still have a missing brother to find.

But just as young men and women had to become “heroes” in World War II, all four Pevensies eventually find their inner hero over the course of the story—in three cases, helped by the immensely practical, if violent, Christmas presents they’ve been given.

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classicdecadence · 3 years

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Starter Call - Round Quatre

Have you been following me for a while but haven’t been sure how to make the first move?

Do we have a thread or two already but you’re keen for more?

Do we have a million threads but you can’t resist a million and one?

Have we written before and you’re keen to get back in the groove?

If you answered yes to any of these questions then boy do I have an idea for you! xD

I had a look through my open starters and noticed that several fairly recent ones have thus far not had any replies.

I’d love to get threads going from these starters and so if you want a thread with me I’d invite you to consider replying to any of the following…

Hector Reyes - 34, heterosexual, plastic surgeon - Michael Trevino

Imogen Wells - 32, bisexual, TV host - Rosie Huntington-Whiteley

Sabrina Peres - 27, bisexual, banker - Camila Mendes

Sterling Lennox - 34, bisexual, political consultant - Will Tudor

Christian Li - 34, heterosexual, driver/enforcer - Lewis Tan

Clark Sin - 55, heterosexual, assassin - Lee Byung-hun

Jordana Wilde - 27, bisexual, rock singer - Taylor Momsen

Diego Alvarado - 29, gay, gallery owner - Alejandro Speitzer

Noah Edwards - 25, heterosexual, builder & fighter - KJ Apa

Stefanie Schweiger - 29, bisexual, music publicist - Josephine Skriver

Jasper Breeland - 29, bisexual, photojournalist - David Corenswet

TR Coleridge - 31, bisexual, nightclub owner - Dom Sherwood

Louis Crozet - 24, bisexual, soccer player - Tyler Posey

Dorian Gatsby - 29, bisexual, professional thief - Taron Egerton

Cormac Walden - 20, heterosexual, English student - Paul Mescal

Feel free to ask me if you have any questions before replying and I hope one of these takes your fancy so we can get writing soon! <3

#starter call

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macwalden · 4 years

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where: Diagon Alley who: Walden MacNair and Frya Avery ( @freyasavery )

Walden could be doing so many other things during his day off. He could start his drinking early and station himself at the nearest pub. He could bother Jasper at the Leaky Cauldron or spend a galleon or two in that clandestine poker ring at one of the penthouses in Virtue Alley. Instead, Walden found himself being pulled along Diagon Alley as he dragged his heels.

There were not a lot of people that Walden found it hard to refuse. Especially if the requests they make wouldn’t end up with him bedding them in one way or another. Freya just happened to be one of the select few that Walden could just barely resist. And she knows it too. That’s why instead of closing the door on her face when she asked him to come along with her, Walden begrudgingly wore a large sweatshirt and allowed Freya to pull him along.

“Could you please tell me where we are going? Because if we’re just going to buy ingredients for your next cookies, I swear to Merlin, Freya...”

#freya ( i can take you to the top ) || connections #freya ( you can hear it in my growl ) || interaction #freya001

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chaoswillfallrpg · 3 years

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AMIRIA MACNAIR is TWENTY-TWO YEARS OLD and a MIXOLOGIST at THE HOPPING POT in CARKITT MARKET. She looks remarkably like MAYA HAWKE and considers herself NEUTRAL. She is currently TAKEN.

→ OVERVIEW:

If you asked Amiria about her early childhood or her father she’d be unable to give you any clear answers. Between what she thought had been real, what her mother had told her and what her older brother, WALDEN MACNAIR had said, Amiria no longer knew what the truth was. What she did know was that her father was never around and whilst she loved her mother dearly, Walden was more of a parent than both ALEXANDER and JOSELINE MACNAIR. Her family of three lived in a fairly large home located in a wizarding village in Dorset, not far from a Muggle town called Wimborne. Whilst there were often Muggles just down the road, Joseline had warned that they were a bad influence and Walden seemed to stay clear of them, so Amiria did too. She adored her older brother, following him everywhere he went and constantly asking to play. Despite Walden being four years older than her, he would never say no, constantly being a gentle giant. She loved him for that. As they got older and Amiria started to find herself, becoming more independent by the day, her stubborn and strong willed personality came out. Instead of following Walden she’d come up with an idea and ask him to accompany her. Looking back on it all, she’s sure Walden was just going along with it all to prevent any arguments. Amiria had a good childhood regardless of the odd dynamics their household had and would never wish to change it. Sometimes she would wonder what it would have been like if their father hadn’t left, but Amiria would shake the idea out of her mind, contempt with her reality.

When Walden left for Hogwarts Amiria found that she had the whole house to herself. Whilst she originally thought it would be exciting, it turned out to be rather lonely. Joseline would leave in the morning and stay out late only to return and ramble on about how great her own life was; how important it was for Amiria to make friends in high places. Unlike Walden, Amiria would simply roll her eyes to that idea. Who cared who she was friends with? All that mattered was that she actually cared for her friends and that they cared for her. In her mind it was always better to have a small group of friends who would stand up for you rather than a large circle who barely knew your name. She’d spend the next four years finding ways to entertain herself, be that sneaking out the house and into the Muggle library in the next town or playing around with a junior potions set that her mother had got for her. As the months passed, Amiria would find herself growing eager for her brother to come home each holiday, to spend time with him like they had when they were younger. But Walden seemed to change with each holiday. He was moodier, less energetic and it seemed as if the light inside him had been snuffed out. Amiria knew that her brother had changed. That he was doing as their mother had asked simply to keep her happy; those around him changing him for the worse. She promised herself she would never follow in his footsteps. That she would never change to suit those around her and instead be true to herself no matter what.

When she was sorted into Slytherin upon arriving at Hogwarts, Amiria instantly knew that making friends might be a challenge. Whilst she appreciated the complement of being labelled as determined and cunning, she did not appreciate being sorted into a house which everyone on the train described as evil. Although she was in the same house as her brother and it was lovely passing him in the common room, she had seen what his fellow Slytherin friends had done to him. Her first instinct was to cross all her classmates off her potential friends list, all except one. SEVERUS SNAPE was a curious boy and whilst he hung around the likes of REGULUS BLACK and JASPER AVERY, she couldn’t help but find herself sitting next to him in potions, a subject which they both adored. She didn’t push her boundaries with him nor did they speak but she hoped that there was a mutual understanding between them that they were friends as they worked on potion assignments together and made an efficient team. Determined to push herself out of her own comfort zone and try new things, she’d skip her own classes only to attend the same class but for the Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff group. This is how she met BERTHA JORKINS whom she sat next to in the class and GILDEROY LOCKHART whom she had a healthy argument with before being asked to leave by the professor once noticing that she did not belong there. Amiria would continue to bounce between friendship groups, meeting new people yet refusing to conform to a single clique and whilst many gave her a side eye, she managed to make a few other friends including CARADOC DEARBORN and DEMETRIUS MCLAGGEN.

It was only when she found herself trying out for the quidditch team one year that she met GWENOG JONES and EDGAR BONES, both who were passionate about quidditch and willing to help her learn whilst simultaneously being lovely people. Amiria could not understand how Walden had ended up with such rotten apples as friends when Hogwarts was filled with amazing students. Whilst Amiria did not make the quidditch team, she was given kudos for trying and was continuously invited to parties by Gwenog or Edgar. She’d spend the days before stealing ingredients for the potion storeroom and brewing a mighty strong yet delicious moonshine. Her moonshine was a hit amongst those who were willing to drink at school parties and before long she had a list of orders. She began to spend her nights in the bathroom, brewing away and filling orders. All the hype that her moonshine business got her also attracted unwanted attention, especially from the likes of NARCISSA MALFOY who at first offered friendship but when Amiria turned her down, seemed to suddenly have it out for her. Suddenly Amiria had found her own rotten apples to avoid and the school seemed to light up with red flags, including her own brother. When she approached him asking why he bullied so many students, she could see the physical strain on his face before he answered brutally, in a way that would make their mother proud. Whilst she would always love Walden, it was at this point that she realised that they were on two different paths in life and that they would probably never see eye to eye again.

It was in her final years at Hogwarts where Amiria finally settled down and focused wholeheartedly on her school work. She felt satisfied with her Hogwarts experience as she had tried everything she had wanted to try and met a few amazing people whose company she truly enjoyed. Whilst she didn’t have a best friend or a ‘close circle’, she didn’t mind. She enjoyed her own company and felt like that was perfectly fine. Well, at least that’s how she felt until she laid eyes on PANDORA FORTESCUE. Amiria had no idea what love felt like but she thought that this might be it. Whilst she never acted on her feelings nor would she ever admit them to anyone, they were definitely strong and she continued to admire Pandora from a distance. Since then her heart has pined for someone she could share every moment with. To distract herself so threw herself into her potion textbooks and studied hard for her N.E.W.T.S. Whilst all her friends around her spoke about their potential careers or their auror training acceptances, she had no idea what she wanted to do with her life after school. She did not want to work behind a counter all day selling potions to mundane customers and hating her life. No, she wanted something more exciting where no day was the same as the last. Her mother suggested asking Walden for help and perhaps working in the experimental magic department at the Ministry but she refused. The last thing she wanted to do was give her mother the satisfaction of bending to her will or asking her brother for help. No, she wanted to do this on her own and find something that worked for her, something that made her happy.

After Hogwarts it wasn’t long until Amiria was couch surfing from one friends apartment to the next. She refused to stay at home with her purist mother whilst she found a place of her own. It was at this point that she saw an opening for a mixologist at the Hopping Pot and she applied for the position. The owner, GABRIELLE BRAITHWAITE was impressed by her own brand, hiring her and offering to buy her recipe. She gladly accepted and began work straight away. What started as a way for her to make money soon became a job that she adored. She’d meet new customers everyday whilst maintaining relationships with frequent drinkers. Her moonshine was now on the menu as a drink that anyone could order and Gabrielle had offered her a room in the Braithwaite flat upstairs. This is how she met ZYRELL BRAITHWAITE, whom she worked with in the bar and BETTY BRAITHWAITE, who worked at The Daily Prophet but would also spend the evenings helping her cousin and Amiria close up. Late one night Amiria was taking out the trash when she overheard a conversation down the back alley. The two men were speaking about a ‘Dark Lord’ and his secret army. Amiria instantly knew that her ears were never meant to hear the conversation and quickly hurried back inside before they noticed her. Normally a conversation like this would slip her mind, but she could have sworn on Merlin’s beard that one of the voices had been none other than Severus Snape. She needed to know more, who was this Dark Lord and what army? It seemed like it was time to pay one of her old friends a visit because whatever it was, it didn’t sound good.

→ ADDITIONAL INFORMATION:

Blood Status → Half-Blood

Pronouns → She/Her

Identification → Cis Female

Sexuality → Homosexual

Relationship Status → Single

Previous Education → Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry (Slytherin)

Societies → TBD

Family → Alexander MacNair (father), Joseline Garrick (mother), Walden MacNair (brother)

Connections → Pandora Fortescue (object of affection), Zyrell Braithwaite (friend/colleague), Severus Snape (friend), Bertha Jorkins (friend), Gilderoy Lockhart (friend), Caradoc Dearborn (friend), Demetrius McLaggen (friend), Gwenog Jones (friend), Edgar Bones (friend), Betty Braithwaite (friend), Narcissa Black (adversary), Gabrielle Braithwaite (boss)

Future Information → N/A

AMIRIA MACNAIR IS A LEVEL 5 WITCH.

#amiria macnair #maya hawke #marauders rpg #marauders rp #harry potter rpg #witch #neutral #alleys #carkitt market #the hopping pot #taken #taken witch #taken neutral #taken lgbtqia+

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