#Lestange

[a-foray-into-magic]

Traitor.

"I am marrying Ted Tonks." Bellatrix's chocolate-hued eyes landed on her sister and she blinked. For once, words failed her. There was silence in the Black family parlour, where they had been sitting and playing cards. It was a rare pastime that all of them seemed to enjoy. Andromeda may well have dropped a bomb because, for a moment, they had no idea how to respond. Andromeda was always unique. It wasn't a trait appreciated in their household. On more than one occasion, it had been beaten into them. Divergence wasn't appropriate. The most ancient House of Black had their 'ways' and all were expected to follow them. If they did not, there were consequences. In such cases, Cygnus chose violence. Bella had been beaten so much that after a while, she would laugh when he raised his hand. While she did fall in line for the most part, she ensured her parents knew she wasn't always happy about it.

Cygnus raised his decanter of firewhisky whilst Druella closed her eyes, clenching her jaw. Cissy's eyes filled with tears, but beyond that, there was a lack of emotion shown. Inside Bella, turmoil mixed with loathing and betrayal. They would never be the same after today. She clutched her wand and was tempted to send a few blasts at Andromeda's head. Andromeda stood tall, her Black bearing apparent. She had to know that this wasn't going to be well received. The silence lingered and Bella hopped up from her seat, glaring at her sister. "You can't do that!" She spat out, pointing her wand under her sister's chin. Red sparks sputtered from the top and Narcissa gasped. "Expelliarmus!" Andromeda hissed, and Bella's wand flew across the room. Their eyes met and tensions in the room were so thick, the family house-elf could have cut it with a butter knife. "I can, and I will. You cannot stop me. None of you can." "You've got an hour to pack a bag," Cygnus declared in a cold, emotionless voice. Standing up, he looked at Andromeda, his eyes narrowed. Druella simply looked at the smoke rising from her cigarette as if that were the most interesting thing in the world. Bella's eyes narrowed. She could detach from anything--except her social parties where she paraded over everyone about her esteemed pedigree. That she did not defend her daughters was nothing new. "From such point, you are no longer a Black. We do not know you. We will not acknowledge you. If people ask about you, you are as good as dead." "I expected nothing less," Andromeda replied, stepping away from Bella and heading up the winding stairwell to her room. Following her, with hatred etched on her features, Bella simultaneously fought her anger and the burn of tears. Her younger sister was on the unemotional side. She was resigned to it. There was no fire, no fight. There was only acceptance. Bella's jealousy surged. To choose her own marriage would be grand, but it was not allowed. (And if she was honest, she didn't want to get married.) But at least she knew that her marriage would be pure. A muggle-born. Why couldn't Andromeda at least have chosen a pure-blood? Narcissa seemed more torn. Loyal to her family, upset by the events. Bella sniffed. She was a soft touch sometimes, but it wasn't something Bella minded, so long as she did her duties to the family. Andromeda was quiet as she waved her wand, packing her clothes into her suitcase. She took nothing beyond what was her own, nor to state who she was. Or had been. Not a single photograph. Nothing. Bella would scratch her out of every photo later. The only problem was, anytime she looked in the mirror, she would see Andromeda's face. It was a curse she would carry--one that would affect her more than even a Cruciatus curse.

"Blood Traitor!" Bellatrix screeched venomously, following Andromeda as she marched down the stairs. She took notice of their similarities once more. Knowing she would never again set eyes upon the little sister that she had once loved so much. It was like looking at herself if she took this path in life. There was some tiny voice in Bella's mind that kept nagging her to stop with the insults, but her anger was far too volatile to be ignored. Stopping at the front door. Andromeda looked back at Bella, leveling a gaze at her. There was pity in that stare. The older witch scowled and shoved her out the door. Their parents were talking in the parlor, no doubt planning to discuss how to go forward. Bella looked beside her as Cissy took hold of her arm. As much as she wanted to wrench it away, she didn't. Not to Cissy. If there was any softness left in Bella, it was reserved for her baby sister.

"Goodbye, Bella. Cissy. Mother. Father," Andromeda uttered calmly, before turning on her heels and beginning to walk away. Her shoulders were squared as she walked, her head held high. Why did it seem like there was a weight off her shoulders? "If you two ever escape...this. I hope you'll find me."

"Toujours Pur!!" Bellatrix shrieked as Andromeda walked down the long stone pathway from the Black estate. She never would admit it to anyone, but she would miss Andromeda. But it also fuelled her hatred of muggle-borns. Stealing her sister away like this? May they all burn and writhe in the hottest of fires.

[indizombie]

Each year between November and February, more than 10 million crays journey to waters between Geraldton and Shark Bay, where they settle on reefs. Dr de Lestang said the crayfish use the Earth's magnetism to spin in the same direction for the migration. "They all walk out at pretty much the exact same angle, 283 degrees, using magnetic reckoning, until they hit the deeper waters around about 100 to 200 metres," he said. "And once they get into that loop and current, they turn and walk into the current and they walk northwards." Dr de Lestang said lobsters tapped into magnetic forces in much the same way as homing pigeons. "They can sense the magnetic fields underwater, and they can use that to know which direction they are going," he said.

‘WA crayfish are about to turn in unison and head for deeper waters on 'whites run'’, ABC

[delicrieux]

𝑻𝑰𝑴𝑬 𝑻𝑶 𝑷𝑹𝑬𝑻𝑬𝑵𝑫, 2. summer 1972, august

pairing for this chapter—regulus black x f!lestrange!reader   warnings for this chapter—none! word count—2.3k

regulus can get quite mean in the sweltering summer heat.

masterlist | buy me coffee☕ | ttp masterlist | < back | next >

the grandiose patio is lined with wet footprints. yours. and regulus’. the sunshine is too unkind to him – burnt easily, he seems even more miserable in summer. he’s not much fond of water, even if you constantly drag him into the depths of the pool. the chlorine reeks, he had said displeased, trying to swat away his wet hair from his eyes. you had fought, tooth and nail, not to state, you reek. it would’ve obviously been a joke, and sirius would have laughed so merrily at your boundless wit, but regulus would have flushed in embarrassment and confined himself to silence.

you don’t like much when regulus is silent. in fact, you don’t fancy silence at all. father’s silence usually entails bad news, and mother is always silent. your house is too big to retain any noise, and rodolphus is contemplative and rabastan doesn’t take up enough space. with bella here, perhaps things will become more rowdy.

already, she’s turning everything upside down in what she has dubbed ‘the great upheaval.’ the new lady lestange has expensive taste and moody preferences, and so the walls are getting painted, and all sorts of curious trophies and relics from the depths of gringotts are being brought as decorations. she had let you practice explosive magic to knock down a bookcase she believed to be misplaced. you had been very thrilled to help.

now, though, the pleasant buzz of nature is satisfactory. the gardens and the orchard have remained untouched, though the greenhouse has been smashed completely. the remnants of glass glimmer on the sun-sparkled grass, a perfect spot to avoid as the pool beckons your return. not that mother's menagerie had been of much interest to anyone for years. the servants had tended to it, but it remained vacant of visitors, except the rare moments rabastan felt particularly sentimental. all those exotic butterflies spilled into the crisp, open air. it was quite magical. regulus was particularly down that evening.

of course, bella hadn't given much faff for any of it, so you don't dwell. a morning in the sun is a morning in the sun, after all. and, surely, if mother isn't to care for her property, then why should you?

"you recon sister will hire more staff?" you muse aloud. regulus has languidly settled under an olive tree, the leaves framing the thin, half-naked body like an all-too-pale depiction of pieta. his head hangs, the burn-warmed skin glowing, "without me to help she’ll hardly be able to manage all of these household duties."

regulus raises a brow at that, "what have you done exactly to help," the way he says it is half-chiding, half-mocking. as though he thinks that's the way to speak to the owner of the manor, "you blow up bookshelves."

you turn away from his stare, and keep yourself upright against the pool, knees scraping against the pebbles.

"well," you reply with a sniff, "if you had not noticed, she has taken a shine to me."

"shines are used for small jewels."

you hit his leg in a mindless display of violence.

his sharp inhale isn't playful – "what was that for?!"

"that was for talking down to me." you scoff. and his cheeks grow red, but not because you caught him in his error.

his next response is bitter. "i see how it is," the pitch of his voice rising ever-so-slightly, a subtle crack in a violin string, "you grow more pompous every day."

with his legs folded under his chin, arms crossed tightly, his discomfort in his position isn't masked as well as his emotion is. his wide eyes belie an even wider sadness. a hunger, a wanting for the type of affection a mother provides. something you'll never want to think too hard on because you understand, but also have been told by father not to ponder on.

"was that you attempting to speak down to me again?"

"no!" he snaps back, before muttering, "not that you wouldn't deserve it."

your temper has spiked. that isn't fair, what did he know of all that you must put up with! father expects a lot, and yet you are not given enough to do, but your brothers still complain at everything, and then you must put on a smiling face in front of bella, and how rude is he, really, to disrespect you so!

regulus doesn't receive a single hint of a reply from you. if his plan to make you more malleable to conversation wasn't working, he could start something of his own.

"have you made up your mind," the subject switch makes you jump, "about what house?"

oh. he hasn't stopped prodding since the end of june. that's almost cute of him.

"why are you obsessed about this?"

regulus makes a face. "don't try to understand. i just am," he pauses. for once, he regards you carefully, head tilting slightly to one side, "so you have made up your mind."

"slytherin sounds lovely," you admit, as you have been practising this speech in the mirror for a fortnight now. it feels more real coming out of your own mouth and not an apparition's. you could never admit to gryffindor, as your secret would unravel. regulus would spot his brother’s influence, and he would know, with certainty, that you prefer sirius to him. he must know already, but chooses to ignore it, like you chose to ignore all things inconvenient.

regulus stills for a moment. "wonderful," he comments, and resumes the snootiness of his demeanour, but more distant, "i'll definitely be in slytherin,"

yes, clearly, he would suit the snake very well. and he would fit in, like cissy. no matter the apparent fragility to him, it seems to be hiding a will stronger than all of yours combined. his eyes glitter and gleam when the sunlight hits them just right, but their core seems deeper, darker. no cracks or fissures. just an endlessness.

"and so would you," he finishes the sentiment.

"wh- whatever do you mean?!" you cry in his face, startled out of the depths of your musings.

"dear cousin," he simpers, "for how much time must your father spend pontificating on how utterly useless you are before you realise i'm in your same boat."

he may not mean it, but the insult is unbearable. and perhaps there's a sliver of truth that irks you. that your own kin think so lowly of your abilities. but, nonetheless, "behind my back, at least," you sound, "please, regulus, don't say such things to my face!"

he snorts, faintly amused at your ridiculousness, "will it make you feel better if i apologise?"

you huff. your pride has been bruised. he has, as always, thrown you into a sulk, which will be harder and harder to get over now. especially with you sitting a little more self-conscious than you had been ten minutes ago. and really, it had been such a pleasant afternoon. sweltering, and you bask in sunlight like you're famished for it. the rivera had been sweet, always bright and sunny, but england is hardly ever not gloomy. yes, the weather is worth more mental effort than regulus black, you decide. you would rather converse with a house-elf than him. he, yes, is useless, but you have some use, surely.

"think before you speak," you warn, not very menacingly, "honestly, if my life is already doomed, you'll not aid in ruining it any further."

"what life? father dotes on you endlessly. even if you've got not a single brain cell, he still fancies you," he drawls, "really, you're like a pet. a mooncalf. not a thought behind those eyes."

there it is. the nerve that tics. and though he'd spoken in a lazy, pensive drawl, your response is razor-edged and dagger-thorned. you're the blight. the aphids that sully. the plagues of locusts, “so what!" you counter, and you're barely standing on the border, "what is it my trouble? at least my father loves me, which is too much to say of your own."

regulus rises sharply. it is the fastest he's ever moved in all his life. that face would strike a serpent cold, you imagine. "take. that. back." his tone is chillingly even.

but a quick wit has always served you best, "no. not till you're nice to me."

"fine," the sun casts an angry, dark shadow of his figure over the pool. only eleven, yet he might be the most daunting creature you've ever encountered. all long lines, jutting ribs, and pale skin. and those eyes. downturned, forlorn. a regal hazel. the lids are flutter-thick.

the silence that settles is thick with discomfort. you think of your mother’s room at the top floor, how hot she must be with the heavy curtains drawn. it would be good to air it, lest she grows sicker from breathing in all of that old dust. yes, you shall let a servant know as soon as you finish chipping away at regulus’ resolve with your withering glare.

finally, slowly, carefully, "you won't tell mother i upset you, will you?"

"aunt walburga has much to preoccupy her. of course i won't."

he takes this as enough an acquiescence.

you find a part of him has softened. the edges, maybe.

"why should i apologise anyway," he adds, as if by way of an attempt at conversing in your manner, "the truth needs no apology."

his voice, not that of his father's but certainly not the poshest, has something odd about it.

he waits for a few more seconds, in what you gather, is a wait for an excuse to take the blow off of himself. you keep thinking, and these thoughts blunder quickly about. of mother’s room and father’s study, of rabby down in the cellar, of rodolphus prancing around his new wife. of sirius locked in his guest room, all of his muggle trinkets confiscated. sirius would have a laugh if he wasn’t too busy sulking. this impish row would cheer him up.

you've accepted the role now. it feels like a coronation. the signet ring would fit. pretty thing.

"regulus," you start, but can't keep your straight face. his stare bores into you, until the laugh finally escapes.

"you twit!" he accuses you, "i thought you were really angry for a moment! good thing i wouldn't actually worry, with how loose tongued you are. and stupid! to think, everyone always bellows about how pleasant and intelligent you are."

"could hardly be talking of me," you say, feeling not very bitter, but the taste of it is tart on the back of your tongue. this is a new pattern. a childish bickering, or even teasing, "i've never wanted to know anything. everyone else is terribly inquisitive."

regulus just eyes you in bewilderment. as though your view on the world is rather strange. regulus is fond of reading, and he has a plethora of curious facts to share to anyone who would listen. he had been more vocal of them when he was younger, but at eleven, he's growing very reserved and respectable.

to anyone but you, it seems, because he's rude and standoffish in your presence, even if his cheeks start to burn when you catch him staring at you. maybe you should've let him know. it'd be sweet to see his eyes widen in surprise, or his lips purse. that'd be worth all his rude jokes and unwarranted insults. his silence has allowed him to believe that all his sentiments are harmless. but they are not.

perhaps you are useless, not even a little bit useful at all, if a mere boy who's still gangly and graceless has you wound around his little finger, while not even knowing it. you can't decide if that's better or worse than knowing. it doesn't really matter anyway. when the family meetings took place late in the evening, and you were pointedly dismissed, you had decided you shan't ever want to know anything. to live in simple bliss of a fantasy, to enjoy what you're good at enjoying, and never touch the dirt of any of their messy problems. the end of childhood doesn't concern you, no more than any of the scandals you overhear and promptly ignore. gossip you adore, but only if it's mindless, like a poor matching colour of a robe.

the rest you are well off without.

pretty thing, mother had once called you when awake. her gaze had been vacant. you refused to decipher the meaning, if there was any to begin with. pretty things needn’t be sensible, they only need to be admired.

regulus offers you his hand. a rarity, him touching you, because he rarely is one for contact. especially with you, it had seemed. the small, slim fingers don’t tremble in their wait, "want to swim?"

your earlier mood melts away like the heat waves over the warm stone. the blood has flushed both your skins, but his more.

it's not important anyway.

"thought you don't like water," you say smugly, happy to lord over this very basic information you know of him over his head, "you'll look like a prune."

regulus wrinkles his nose in distaste at the idea. his pale complexion is so easy to scorch and scar. the redness blooms on him beautifully.

but then, all he says is, "you're my favourite, you know that, right? always have been."

the pleasantry, in such an instant, brings another surge of blood to your cheeks.

"why?" you have to know.

a shrug, then, a smile. not malicious at all, and you've always enjoyed it when he can't hold the pretences up in your company.

"dunno," and his expression goes blank again. his gaze roams somewhere far, "so do you want to go swimming?"

his offer has something more, and the confusion lingers.

"it is very hot," is all you find to say.

and what else, but to hold onto his outstretched palm?

[lulublack90]

Prompt 18 - Spider

@jegulus-microfic August 18, Word count 641

Previous part First Wolfstar part

James took a seat opposite Dumbledore. Regulus hovered beside him, careful not to knock any of the spindly tables over that the headmaster seemed fond of balancing delicate glass objects on, and listened to their conversation. 

“Are you aware of the events that occurred at the Lestrange residence?” Dumbledore asked. 

“Yes, I think so. The castle was attacked and the Lestange's and a few others were all killed,” James replied. Regulus noticed his jaw tense. Dumbledore narrowed his eyes and steepled his fingers. 

“It was a bit more than that,” The old man added. “They were massacred.” James put on a shocked face. “There was very little left to identify them by,” He peered across the tops of his half-moon spectacles, watching James carefully. “The order has been blamed for it and as I gave no such order for an attack on that scale I am trying to figure out what went wrong.” James kept his face as neutral as possible. 

“I don’t know who did it,” He said carefully. 

“Oh, no, I didn’t expect you would.” The headmaster nodded. "And still no signs of Remus Lupin or Sirius Black?” Dumbledore asked. Regulus stiffened. Did Dumbledore know they were behind it? 

“No, sir, but I won’t give up looking. They have to be out there. I won’t give up hope of finding them,”

“If anyone can do it, James, I have no doubt you are the wizard for the job,” Dumbledore’s blue eyes twinkled at James and Regulus couldn’t help but feel a bit unnerved by the man. He’d never had his brother’s blind faith in the old coot. There was a reason he was the only one Voldemort was scared of. 

James rose to leave, but Dumbledore called after him just as he was about to turn the door knob. “What was it that you needed in the Slytherin Common room, James?” He asked, eyes narrowed. James turned to look over his shoulder and, as nonchalantly as he could, he answered Dumbledore. 

“Oh, just a hunch, not sure if it’ll pay off or not. I’ll let you know if it does,” James waved and opened the door.

They rushed from the castle as quickly as they could and into the forbidden forest. Regulus didn’t dare take the invisibility cloak off until they were deep in the forest. Salazar had given them instructions on how to open the locket and even helpful ideas on how to destroy it. Regulus hadn’t dared tell him that he’d already found the information to destroy a Horcrux and just listened to the same information he’d already read being retold to him. 

Something flashed in the corner of his eyes and he could have sworn he saw a ginormous spider. He told James as much.

“Oh, it was probably one of the acromantula. There’s a nest of them not too far from here.”

“What! James, they are so dangerous! Why are they even in the forest?!” His eyes darted about nervously, he felt as though dozens of eyes were on him. 

They finally came to the clearing that James was leading them to and Regulus took the locket out of his pocket, placed it on the ground and stood back. “Hesha-Hassah!” He hissed the way Salazar’s portrait had made him repeat over and over until it sounded right. Apparently, it was parseltongue for open. The portrait had also shown them a secret panel on the fireplace that held one Basilisk fang that the actual Salazar had hidden there in case he needed one in a hurry. According to the portrait, there were fangs hidden all over the castle. Regulus thought he’d be more worried about the potential of a student accidentally stumbling across one and harming themselves but at the moment he had bigger worries. 

The locket opened, and he was engulfed in dark swirling mist. 

Next part

[celestemagnoliathewriter]

Someone yelling: “Fuck the Black family!”

Ted Tonks, Remus Lupin, Victoire Weasley, Lucius Malfoy, Rodolphus Lestange, = “We’re trying!”

You got that right, anon! The following have all fallen victim to the allures of the Black family:

Kreacher (all of them)

Druella Rosier (Cygnus)

Rodolphus Lestrange (Bella)

Lord Voldemort (Bella)

Ted Tonks (Andromeda)

Lucius Malfoy (Narcissa)

Remus Lupin (Nymphadora)

Astoria Greengrass (Draco)

Also, allow me to paint you a picture. Suppose that Rodolphus still dies but Lord Voldemort marries Bellatrix. Suppose there's a family reunion.

Now imagine Lord Voldemort, Ted Tonks, and Lucius Malfoy having a drink--they're BROTHERS IN LAW NOW--and quietly contemplating that they have more in common than they ever wanted.

Raise your hand if you've been personally victimized by a member of the Black family

[lumosfm]

UNITED WE STAND: divided we fall . Hello roleplayers and tag lurkers and welcome to lumosfm! We are an appless, marauders era roleplay kicking off in the year 1979 and we'd love for you to come and check us out! I am delighted to see that we currently have seven character apps in our inbox, with plenty of other canon characters just waiting to be snapped up! I would love to see some applications for some Death Eaters, with some of our most wanted being Lucius Malfoy, Rodolphus Lestange, Alecto Carrow, Walden Macnair and Rabastan Lestrange! We also accept original characters and have plenty of open surnames for semi-canon characters too!

[merlinsbudgiesmugglers]

What do you mean with Rabastan Lestrange!

Rabastan Lestange and Andromeda Black

she had turned her back on the love that haunted her dreams

So this is how it’s going to be?

What the Hell have you done to my Dromender

hahaha @nena-96 I think you're going to be even more upset with me when you read chapter 6.

No one's drinking good decision juice in this fic and I love it

[ondyku]

Nicolas Lestang 香港個人展覽-JUNGLE 🎉🎉Good Show 🎉🎉 🙏🏻 @nicolas_lestang @codecornerbkk @stonevibehk （在 Stonevibe） https://www.instagram.com/p/CoxQsftvpZt/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

[sesiondemadrugada]

Clash (Raphaël Delpard, 1984).

[fleursfairies]

wait

im reading harry potter and the deathly hallows and you are telling me the chapter after ‘malfoy manor’ ISNT called ‘shell cottage’ ???

i was reading malfoy manor and for some reason i kept involuntarily telling myself the next chapter was called shell cottage

but its called ‘the wandmaker’ ??

REALLY?

[hogwartscastle]

Happy International Women's Day ♀︎✨

Here are nine of the most iconic Harry Potter women characters.

[every-fandom-is-like-home-2]

Lovely poster

[songedunenuitdete]

Antoine, mon fils de Alexandra Lestang

🔥AVIS LECTURE🔥J'ai lu, Antoine, mon fils de Alexandra Lestang /@robert_laffont ☀️Une plume, belle, percutante pour une thématique douloureuse et poignante : comment continuer à vivre après la mort de son enfant ? Un très beau livre.

Mon avis : Pour qui connait ma propre histoire vous vous doutez bien que cette lecture m’a bouleversée. J’ai toujours du mal à lire des témoignages de parents endeuillés, parce que je m’identifie trop à eux. Avec cet ouvrage, Alexandra Lestang a pris le parti de relater son histoire à son fils, Antoine. Je me suis beaucoup reconnue dans cette manière de procéder, j’avais commencé un manuscrit de…

[heroicintention-a]

@lestrange-dangereux

“So there is.” Rodolphus was paused, hidden in the shadow as his eyes traced the figures before him. “These woods are no place for kids. No place at all.” His laugh was dark and low, the promise of the hunt, the thrill of the upcoming game, had him excited, happy to have Rosier along for the ride.

Evan’s head tipped to the side just slightly, slipping his wand out as he tried to make out the young ones... but it seemed like they had caught on, the crunch of leaves underfoot and the sudden movement-- they were running. Or trying to run. “No, no place,” he hummed with a small smirk forming, “I suppose we’ll be playing hide and seek now. We’ll see how well that goes.” With not another word, he ran after them. If they were pureblood-- or even respectable halfblood-- there was nothing to fear... but if they were running, he doubted they were.

[alpha-canis-major]

Black family dinner circa 1976

Orion: So, Sirius how are your studdies going?

Regulus: Father, I'm Regulus. Sirius left almost a year ago.

Orion: Right, of course. *looks at Narsissa* Andromeda, how is your engagement to Lestrange?

Narcissa: Orion, I'm Narsissa. Andromeda married a muggle-born and it's Bellatrix getting engaged to Lestange.

Orion: Of course, sorry about that.

Bellatrix: Merlin, at least when Sirius was here things were more exciting. Regulus, can't you do something to entertain us. Cause major drama? Date that James Potter your brother's friends with or something?

Regulus: *stuttering* Wha- what? No, no I'm not. What are you talking about?

[potentiallypotter]

My hyper fixation on the Marauders era caused me to spend my entire evening plotting down birthdays, death days, anniversaries, and Hogwarts years of characters I often see in Marauders fics who are either misplaced in time (such as Molly and Arthur being friends with the Marauders in their sixth despite the fact that would have graduated well before then) or just need more added to them in my mind (see Marlene, Barty, any parents, etc.)

I sorted them in categories based on family (I used the last name that they died with) and a quick guide to my system is [ Date of Birth to Date of Death | Hogwarts House and Graduating Class (September First Year - June Seventh Year) | Blood-status | Relationship Status ] Anyway here is everything that I wasted my time on

Potter Family

Fleamont Potter — August 1, 1905 to June 24, 1979 | Gryffindor Class of 1923 (September 1916 - June 1923) | Pureblood | Married December 4, 1941

Euphemia Potter nee Tremblay — January 11, 1910 to June 28, 1979 | Gryffindor Class of 1928 (September 1921 - June 1928) | Pureblood | Married December 4, 1941

James Potter — March 27, 1960 to October 31, 1981 | Gryffindor Class of 1978 (September 1971 - June 1978) | Pureblood | Married June 19, 1979

Lily Potter nee Evans — January 30, 1960 to October 31, 1981 | Gryffindor Class of 1978 (September 1971 - June 1978) | Muggleborn | Married June 19, 1979

Black Family

Orion Black — July 14, 1929 to September 15, 1979 | Slytherin Class of 1947 (September 1940 - June 1947) | Pureblood | Married August 21, 1949

Walburga Black — January 1, 1925 to December 4, 1985 | Slytherin Class of 1943 (September 1936 - June 1943) | Pureblood | Married August 21, 1949

Sirius Black — November 3, 1959 to June 18, 1996 | Gryffindor Class of 1978 (September 1971 - June 1978) | Pureblood | Single

Regulus Black — May 16, 1961 to November 14, 1979 | Slytherin Class of 1979 (September 1972 - June 1979) | Pureblood | Single

Cygnus Black III — November 21, 1930 to October 28, 1992 | Slytherin Class of 1949 (September 1942 - June 1949) | Pureblood | Married March 16, 1951

Druella Black — February 26, 1931 to December 7, 1999 | Slytherin Class of 1949 (September 1942 - June 1949) | Pureblood | March 16, 1951

Lupin Family

Lyall Lupin — May 19, 1929 to March 5, 2019 | Ravenclaw Class of 1947 (September 1940 - June 1947) | Halfblood | Married February 27, 1959

Hope Lupin nee Howell — November 14, 1932 to February 9, 1978 | Muggle | Married February 27, 1959

Remus Lupin — March 10, 1960 to May 2, 1998 | Gryffindor Class of 1978 (September 1971 - June 1978) | Halfblood | Married May 15, 1997

Nymphadora Lupin nee Tonkin — May 16, 1973 to May 2 1998 | Hufflepuff Class of 1991 (September 1984 to June 1991) | Halfblood | Married May 15, 1997

Pettigrew Family

Tobias Pettigrew — April 30, 1938 to November 18, 1985 | Ravenclaw Class of 1956 (September 1949 - June 1956) | Halfblood | Married December 3, 1959/Separated December 17, 1964

Lara Pettigrew nee Abbott — September 26, 1940 to January 20, 1986 | Gryffindor Class of 1959 (September 1952 - June 1959) | Pureblood | Married December 3, 1959/Separated December 17, 1964

Peter Pettigrew — February 15, 1960 to March 29, 1998 | Gryffindor Class of 1978 (September 1971 - June 1978) | Halfblood | Single

Lestrange Family

Rodolphus Lestange — May 27, 1949 to March 19, 2011 | Slytherin Class of 1967 (September 1960 - June 1967) | Pureblood | Married May 1, 1971

Bellatrix Lestrange nee Black — December 2, 1951 to May 2, 1998 | Slytherin Class of 1970 (September 1963 - June 1970) | Pureblood | Married May 1, 1971

Rabastan Lestrange — November 12, 1958 to May 3, 1998 | Slytherin Class of 1977 (September 1970 - June 1977) | Pureblood | Single

Tonks Family

Edward Tonks — December 23, 1953 to March 2, 1998 | Hufflepuff Class of 1972 (September 1965 - June 1972) | Muggleborn | Married April 13, 1974

Andromeda Tonks nee Black — May 25, 1954 | Slytherin Class of 1972 (September 1965 - June 1972) | Pureblood | Married April 13, 1974

Malfoy Family

Lucius Malfoy — June 18, 1954 | Slytherin Class of 1972 (September 1965 - June 1972) | Pureblood | Married June 17, 1976

Narcissa Malfoy nee Black — July 15, 1955 | Slytherin Class of 1973 (September 1966 - June 1973) | Pureblood | Married June 17, 1976

Longbottom Family

Frank Longbottom — January 21, 1957 | Gryffindor Class of 1975 (September 1968 - June 1975) | Pureblood | Married September 4, 1978

Alice Longbottom nee Fortescue — May 31, 1957 | Gryffindor Class of 1975 (September 1968 - June 1975) | Pureblood | Married September 4, 1978

Weasley Family

Arthur Weasley — February 6, 1950 | Gryffindor Class of 1968 (September 1961 - June 1968) | Pureblood | Married March 17, 1969

Molly Weasley nee Prewett — October 20, 1949 | Gryffindor Class of 1968 (September 1961 - June 1968) | Pureblood | Married March 17, 1969

Prewett Family

Gideon Prewett — December 28, 1957 to August 28, 1981 | Gryffindor Class of 1976 (September 1969 - June 1976) | Pureblood | Single

Fabian Prewett — December 28, 1957 to August 28, 1981 | Gryffindor Class of 1976 (September 1969 - June 1976) | Pureblood | Single

Crouch Family

Bartemius Crouch — December 21, 1940 to May 27, 1995 | Ravenclaw Class of 1958 (September 1951 - June 1958) | Pureblood | Married April 21, 1960

Sarina Crouch nee Draggs — June 5, 1940 to January 9, 1982 | Ravenclaw Class of 1958 (September 1951 - June 1958) | Halfblood | Married April 21, 1960

Bartemius Crouch Jr — December 2, 1960 to February 28, 1996 | Slytherin Class of 1979 (September 1972 - June 1979) | Halfblood | Single

Not Affiliated With A Family

Marlene McKinnon — August 22, 1960 to July 17, 1981 | Gryffindor Class of 1978 (September 1971 - June 1978) | Halfblood | Single

Mary Macdonald — September 20, 1960 | Gryffindor Class of 1979 (September 1972 - June 1979) | Muggleborn | Single

Emmeline Vance — June 25, 1959 to July 11, 1996 | Ravenclaw Class of 1977 (September 1970 - June 1977) | Halfblood | Single

Dorcas Meadowes — February 5 1960 to December 24, 1981 | Slytherin Class of 1978 (September 1971 - June 1978) | Halfblood | Single

Evan Rosier — August 12, 1961 to December 8, 1980 | Slytherin Class of 1979 (September 1972 - June 1979) | Pureblood | Single

Amos Diggory — April 4, 1954 | Hufflepuff Class of 1972 (September 1965 - June 1972) | Pureblood | Married May 31, 1976

Amelia Diggory nee Jonas — June 9, 1954 | Hufflepuff Class of 1972 (September 1965 - June 1972) | Muggleborn | Married May 31, 1976