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#Lord Voldemort would be proud
racfoam · 2 years
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Voldemort twined his skeletal fingers of his right hand with Harry’s right hand, closed the meagre distance between their mouths, and kissed Harry.
It was soft and sweet, like a dream.
- be proud, Chapter 2
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enha-doodles · 4 months
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Heyya I love your works 💗💗 and I was wondering if u u could do Slytherin boys reacting to the reader being a muggleborn 🥹
Classic yk🕺🏻🕺🏻
SLYTHERIN GUY'S REACTION TO YOU BEING A MUGGLEBORN | ✧⁺。
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Pairing : (Mattheo , Tom , Theodore , Lorenzo , Draco) x muggleborn!reader
Note : tysm bestie 🤪🤪✨ also that is such a classic request !!!
Warnings : mentions of fighting , toxicness in Tom's (I mean?)
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MATTHEO RIDDLE
Yes , he's got this thing against Muggle-borns, but if it's you, he's willing to put on his big boy pants and overlook it. But don't you dare insult his girl's blood status, or else you'll witness a show even Voldemort himself would be proud of! Picture it: a bunch of Slytherin wannabes start spouting nonsense about you not being worthy of Mattheo because he's the Dark Lord's spawn, and well you're just a stupid mudblood.
That sets Mattheo off like a firecracker! He goes all Hulk mode, smashing and bashing until they're all groveling at his feet. "Stay in your fucking place, you piece of shit, or else you won't live to tell the tale of Voldemort's son representing the Dark Lord himself!" He's a total hotie in fight mode btw
TOM RIDDLE
Now, Tom's got issues. He's got this whole orphanage baggage weighing him down, but deep down, he's just a lovesick puppy because he never received any. Sure, he hates the whole blood status talk, but he loves you more than he hates it. And merlin, does he have a way of showing it! He'll dominate and control like it's his daily job, but common, it's all out of love, right? And if anyone dares to even look at you funny, bam! It's going to be a hex city, and guess whose the population ? them.
But if you try to disobey or disrespect him he won't hesitate to return to his true self , he'd grab your chin harshly and menacingly whisper, "You're just a filthy mudblood, know your place. Here, God isn't your lord. I am."
THEODORE NOTT
hmm, Theodore, the rebel with a cause. He's not like his father , nothing like him at all and he constantly wants to prove it , this is just one of those things that help him show you and others that he's different.He couldn't care less about blood status drama. Nope, if he loves you, he loves ALL of you, flaws and all.
He'd threaten everyone around that you're his girl and if anyone says anything to you or if they try to hurt you then they'd be found dead before they can say sorry . "Get this in your stupid ass head, you dick - you mess with her, you mess with me and remember I don't pull bunnies out of a hat ."
LORENZO BERKSHIRE
Lorenzo's like that curious cat who just can't resist poking his nose into everything. Muggle stuff? Fascinating! Like Theodore he wouldn't mind . He'd actually ask more about how it's there and all the technology intrigues him but he'd still be on about how magic is better . He would support you all the time and try to indulge in stuff to make you feel better .
Would threaten his friends to be mindful of their words around you because you're very dear to him and he wouldn't mind a punch to two if it means you're protected "Hey hey hey , watch it or I won't!"
DRACO MALFOY
Draco, return of the drama queen of Slytherin lmao . He'll start off all high and mighty, spouting hurtful things left, right, and center. But when reality hits and you stop talking to him , he realizes he's messed up, cue the banging at your door , sputtering out apologies and the gifts galore - rich boy lowkey buying his way out but you can't complain because he's got all your favourite stuff .
Draco would kinda joke to lighten the mood "God, I love you, but my father cannot hear about this." Classic Draco, am I right?
。    ✧    ⁺     。
TAGLIST : @sugarcandydoll @helendeath
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awyeahitssam · 7 months
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“Expulso!”
The force of the magic slammed him through one wall and into another, and Harry could not breathe. It felt like the time Dudley sat on top of his chest, pressing all of the air from his lungs. He gasped and choked to no avail, the sensation of breathlessness more distressing than the stars dancing before his eyes and the ringing of his ears. 
He was dying, dying, dying.
After a too-long moment Harry managed a shuddering inhale, getting a lungful of concrete dust for his troubles. He doubled over, coughing violently. His wand. He needed his wand.
His right arm was screaming in pain, and Harry squinted through hazy eyes to find a bone sticking out of it at a decidedly odd angle, having ripped through his shirt and robes. Harry had a half-hearted thought of relief that Lockhart wasn’t here to vanish all the bones, which was strange because he should be focusing on the fact that he still couldn’t breathe properly. 
He blinked blearily and twitched his left hand with a desperation that had his wand—blessedly whole—slapping into it. Harry wasn’t used to casting with his off hand, but he was still able to twist it enough to cast a bubble-head charm. 
The spell was silent, because he had no breath for words and no time to think that he couldn’t manage. He had to.
Harry gasped again, this time into a clean pocket of air, and the panic receded a little more at the hard-won oxygen. The pulsing of his temples began to ease on his next breath, but the world still looked too-bright and decidedly crooked. 
“My Lord,” came a smooth, even voice, “shall I take his wand?”
Harry’s eyes focused slowly on the two figures in front of him as his fingers tightened almost compulsively around his wand. His.
“Let the child learn his lesson in full first,” said Lord Voldemort generously. 
Harry swallowed around a dry mouth, glad to taste no blood. At least he hadn’t bitten his tongue or gotten any teeth knocked loose. He inhaled deeply again, revelling in his ability to do so, though the motion made him notice an ache in his sternum as well. Bruised ribs, maybe?  
‘Lesson?’ Harry wondered blearily, a few beats too late. 
Though perhaps he said it out loud, because Voldemort replied, “That you are no match for Lord Voldemort.”
Of course he wasn’t. What a stupid point to try and make. He was fifteen. He barely knew any magic at all. Voldemort had been given decades to learn, versus Harry’s five years. Any competent adult—and wasn’t that an oxymoron—could easily outmatch him, nevertheless a Dark Lord. 
“Well,” Voldemort’s voice came dryly, “you have more sense than I expected, having been raised on Dumbledore’s knee.”
Harry let out a vague approximation of a laugh. He hadn’t known Voldemort had a sense of humour. Dumbledore couldn’t even stand to be in the same room as him. They’d spoken—what, six times since he was eleven? Dumbledore hadn’t so much as looked his way the entire year. 
Not that Harry exactly wanted his attention. He was still angry with the Headmaster for that stupidity with the Triwizard Tournament, and his assault after returning from the Graveyard, and the resulting announcement made (on Harry’s behalf, as if he had any right to speak for him) that Voldemort was back. Really, Harry could have avoided a year of carving ‘I must not tell lies,’ into his own hand if it wasn’t for Dumbledore deciding to tell the world about Voldemort’s resurrection. 
Or maybe not, if Umbridge was one of Voldemort’s and he’d told her to torture Harry for revealing his return. Who knew? That would certainly have been a neat, simple solution. The woman was prejudiced enough to be on par with Malfoy, and he was a Death Eater. But if being prejudiced was the only qualifier to being a part of Voldemort’s army, or movement, or whatever the hell it was, then everybody would get an invite. Dudders could be a Death Eater; make his parents proud. 
“He has quite a mouth on him, My Lord.”
Wow, how observant. Snape would love this guy. 
Was Harry concussed? That was weird. Normally if he was concussed he stayed very, very still and quiet until he was able to sleep and his magic saw him to rights. If he got talkative with a head injury, the Durlsey’s would’ve probably dropped him at an orphanage like they always threatened, or maybe just left him in the middle of nowhere in hopes that he’d drop dead.
“What nonsense is he blubbering about?” the voice said again, and the trace of discomfort was slight but obvious to a boy who had been forced to pick up on such subtleties to survive. Did he not like to hear about the fact that some kids did not get coddled?
Did Death Eaters coddle their kids? Like, as a whole? Draco Malfoy had definitely been coddled; he acted just like Dudley, if not as stupid. He’d definitely grown up with a bed and food and people that would say ‘yes’ to his whims. He just had that sense about him.
Not that Harry wished that the boy hadn’t grown up with that stuff. Harry wouldn’t be intentionally cruel enough to hope for that. Just, he didn’t have to rub it in people’s faces so much. Then again, the brat would have to have manners or something not to do that, and with each passing day Harry was becoming increasingly sure that no witch or wizard actually possessed any matter of manners at all. Everyone was so rude, all the time. Well actually Riddle hadn’t been rude at first, but then he sicced a basilisk on Harry, which was not only rude but also attempted murder. 
Wait, where was he again? Oh. Halfway into the wall he had flown into after bursting through the first. Attempted murder again. That made sense.
The only question was, why was Voldemort so bad at actually murdering him? That had to be a little embarrassing. Oh wait, no, ‘lesson’. The man wanted to teach him something. Harry wondered if he wanted to be a good student for the Dark Lord, or if he’d rather just decline the opportunity. So far, he taught like a muggle.
“A muggle?”
Ouch. Harry’s scar hurt more than his arm; how did Voldemort do that? Harry needed to learn so he could hurt the man right back. Fairs fair.
A finger pressed cruelly into Harry’s brow, right over his scar. It hurt it hurt it hurt it hurtithurt!
“Just like a muggle,” Harry gasped out. Physical violence. Just like Vernon. Voldemort. Vernon. Maybe everyone in the world who had a V-name was the worst.
Cold fingers felt surprisingly nice against Harry’s overheated face. The pain of his scar ebbed abruptly, leaving a dizzying confusion in its wake. Harry might throw up sometime soon.
“Would you like non-physical violence, boy?” Voldemort asked.
Harry carded through the options. Isolation and containment. Starvation. Maybe mental violence, the kind that Snape preferred. Verbal violence of Petunia’s ilk seemed a bit below the Dark Lord, but then her words about how much of a worthless, unnatural freak Harry was did circle his head to this day, so there was no doubt that kind of thing was effective. Just, probably it would’ve been effective if Voldemort had started before he could remember like Petunia had. 
“Do you have a non-violent option? Or is there a box I can check to be killed quickly? Is this a survey? I would rate your services as abysmal. Or wait. Uh. Troll. That’s it, right? Yeah. Bad… bad grade. Probably your first. You’ve failed pacifism. A truly bleak thing for a Dark Lord. You have my greatest sympathies. Surely this will hurt your future career options and they’ll have to lower your salary.” 
Are revolutionaries paid? Or does Voldemort take his own payment? What would be a suitable payment for a Dark Lord? The bodies of his opposers? But then, all his opposers are magical, and didn’t Riddle have that Magic is Might thing? Or was that just something he said? The man had ordered the death of Cedric, who had been the most worthy of age wizard at Hogwarts according to the cup. Apparently Cedric’s completely attractive competency hadn’t mattered, because Voldemort hadn’t hesitated to kill one of the brightest of a generation when a stunner and memory charm could’ve worked just as well. 
Then again, he’d wanted to kill a baby, once, and the death toll of the last war had officially been tallied at one-hundred and seven magicals, after Harry’s parents, so obviously he could care less if he was decimating their population, so long as he got to rule the world or whatever. 
“Potter, do shut up.”
Huh? Had Harry been talking?
“Rambling,” the voice of the oddly not simpering sycophant chimed in helpfully. 
Well. That was something. Normally Harry went very quiet when he was concussed and waited for his magic to—oh. His magic. Harry had magic. What had he done last summer, when Sirius was no longer an adequate threat? He could probably just… 
Harry looked down to see his wand in his left hand. He set it down very gently, then stared blankly at said hand for a long, long moment. Then the air around it began to do that cute little vibrating thing that his magic would do when it hadn’t been let out for long enough, because of the stupid Dursley’s, and the stupid rules, (why the fuck weren’t students allowed to use magic at all over the summer? Didn’t it make them feel like they were going to burst apart with all the suppressed energy? It was near painful sometimes unless Harry found some way to use it, which invariably the Dursely’s gave him.) 
A hand grasped over his wrist and held him at bay. “Do not do whatever you are considering, you stupid, reckless child—”
Harry was a child, and he had chosen to be reckless when he had chosen Gryffindor over Slytherin, so he let his wrist spark with electricity that was enough to get the touch away from him. Why did people always feel so entitled to touching him? He shivered in revulsion even as he placed his hand to his head and let his eyes fall shut.
His magic went to work, effective as always. This was only the second time it hadn’t waited until Harry was asleep. That was very nice of it.
“Thank you,” he told it quite seriously, in the middle of its work. It buzzed against his temple, a current of energy, and Harry quieted and let it continue.
When Harry re-opened his eyes, his vision was not blurry, his head not pounding, and the world not an unsteady bouquet of water colours with a diagonal slant. When he opened his eyes, he met the red gaze of the Dark Lord Voldemort, and swallowed.
“Oh. Just… lovely. Hi?”
The man behind the Dark Lord snorted. Harry spared him a glance—no features were visible beneath his cloak and mask. 
Harry’s throat worked around a swallow. “Fancy seeing you here,” Harry offered, and then set his hand on his arms, because why not, and winced when his bone snapped back into place. 
Ithurtsithurtsohshit. 
Voldemort’s eyes were gleaming with an odd sort of hunger. “I wonder if you will be so eager to talk now, Harry Potter? Tell me… when was the last time you encountered me treating you politely?”
Voldemort didn’t know about the Chamber?
Harry swallowed. “Okay,” he said.
Voldemort stared. “Just like that.”
 “It’s not like I’m opposed to you knowing. I thought you already knew, but apparently you and Tom Riddle weren’t as connected as he implied. Though, you know, if you want me to spill all, you should at least say please.”
Harry’s scar ached, but his arm didn’t any more. Unlike his ribs. “Pardon?”
“You would actually prefer to use Crucio than say please,” Harry noted. “That says mildly concerning things about you, you know. Common courtesy—Troll.”
“He’s stalling,” the Death Eater noted, when Voldemort moved as if for his wand. 
“Of course I am,” Harry rebutted. “He’s clever; you should keep him around to control your terrible temper.”
Why was Harry doing this? Was he waiting for a rescue that would never come, or an opening that was twice as unlikely given the multitude of people involved. 
The Death Eater laughed, and Harry saw a flash of green light. Heard his mothers scream. 
“Oh,” he said, eyes going a bit wide. “There’s two of you.”
Both figures went unnaturally still. “Why would you say that?” The cloaked Voldemort asked. 
Harry tilted his head. “Your laugh,” he said simply. “Your voice is different, but your laugh is the same. Also, you’re not nearly frightened enough of ‘Your Lord’’.”
The cloaked figure hummed, then lowered his hood. “Clever boy,” he said lightly, eyes just as intent and intense as Voldemort’s own, though they were dark rather than bright. His hair was curly, Harry noticed, longer than Tom had kept it when he was in school, though this man didn’t look very old at all. He still had his nose, though his cheekbones were sharper than they had been as a boy, and unlike Voldemort he had lips as well. Harry catalogued these differences with some interest. The evolution of Voldemort, he thought vaguely.
“Technically,” he adds, as he finishes taking the other Dark Lord in, “I’d be doing the both of you a favour by sharing the story of my Second Year.”
His implication was clear. He wanted two pleases. 
“You’re positively suicidal, aren’t you?” the human Voldemort murmured. “Very well, Harry. Please tell me about the circumstances surrounding your encounter or encounters with Tom Riddle, as well as the encounters themselves.”
Harry watched him thoughtfully. “What are you going by?”
“Marvolo,” the cloaked man answered easily. 
“Marvolo,” he repeated thoughtfully. “Your middle name. Tom wrote it in the air for me—rearranged the letters to spell,” he gestured to Voldemort with his newly healed arm. It didn’t so much as twinge. He was more than a little impressed with his magic. 
“How did you take the revelation?” said Voldemort, something cruel in his voice. 
Harry's lips quirked. "I told him he was nothing special," Harry admitted easily. "I told him Dumbledore was the greatest wizard in the world. Mostly, I just wanted him to shut up. He kept asking questions,” he allowed his gaze to drift over both of them, mouth speaking absently even as calculations flashed through his mind. How was he going to get out of this unscathed? There had to be something… some way… 
“He was desperate to know about the night you lost your body,” he told Voldemort. “He thought I would have the answers, somehow. I told him it was my mum. Muggleborn,” he informed Marvolo, in case he didn’t know. Harry’s lips curled in amusement. “He didn’t like that very much. Went on and on about how alike we are. Then he decided it was luck and chance that had saved me, said I was nothing special, and called the basilisk.”
“Maybe I proved him wrong when I killed it and then shoved a basilisk fang into the diary.”
Rage bloomed in two sets of eyes, but it was Voldemort that hissed, “You what?”
“Well, I was dying too at the time,” he defended. “I’m nothing if not spiteful. If I died, I was going to take him with me.”
“Yet here you are,” Marvolo said with clear menace. “Apparently you did not get close enough to death.”
Harry watched him, unimpressed. “The diary wasn’t the only thing that got stabbed with a basilisk fang.”
“You lie,” hissed Voldemort, redrawing Harry’s gaze as if he’d ever truly lost it. 
Harry’s eyes narrowed. “Who’s the liar, here? My parents died begging you for mercy?”
“Didn’t they? Your father begged for his wife's life, and yours. Your mother for yours alone.”
Harry’s lips pressed tight. “Really fucked yourself, didn’t you? You told my mum ‘very well’, when she begged to trade her life for mine. You agreed. You didn’t think she was powerful enough to form an unbreakable vow without the official bindings? You would think you would be smarter than pureblood rhetoric when you’re hardly pure yourself.”
“That's it?” Marvolo murmured, tilting his head thoughtfully. “You couldn’t tell me that?” He glanced at Voldemort, then straightened. “You didn’t know.”
Harry felt the silent chastisement in the words. ‘How is it that a child realised what you didn’t?’
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yoursecrett · 6 days
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Alone
Theo Nott X FemReader
Summary: Becoming a deatheater, betraying your family was something you never saw coming, but love got in the way, after losing your father Sirius. Theo, The Malfoy's and Bellatrix immediately took you in... But little did you know it was all a lie.
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You felt eyes on you as you walked through the hallway, you knew exactly who was watching you they always were 'The Golden Trio' they somewhat believed you should rely on them and not the Slytherins, but why would you do that you weren't a Gryffindor like everyone wanted you to be.
Your father couldn't even bring himself to accept you being a Slytherin, he rarely ever spoke to you. Believing you were evil just like his cousins, but after a few years he began respecting you once again inviting you to dinners, but he was not impressed when he soon found but you were involved with a deatheater. The one and only Theodore Nott... Once your father passed away they were the only ones there for you, you had almost began believing that Harry was his child since everyone checked up on him and never you.
You grew a hatred towards Harry, he made your fathers death all about him, you knew deep down your father was probably helping Harry once again which led to his death so you vowed to make his life hell, the only way it doing that was joining the side he hated. Becoming a deatheater.
"Y/N"you heard him call after you, you ignored him as always, you knew he wanted your fathers ring claiming it needed protecting, "Y/N" he calls out again gaining your attention "What" you say turning to him "Listen I know your fathers ring means alot to you, but Voldemort is after it, you can't let him get a hold of it." You couldn't help but chuckle at him before walking away ignoring his pleas.
"Hey baby" Theo says smiling at you softly as you walk over "Hello" you say taking the cigarette off him dropping it on the floor "you know I hate cigarette breath" you say attaching your lips to his "I actually need to talk to you privately" Theo says pulling away, you nod confused following him into an empty classroom.
"You curled your hair today" He says leaning against a desk "Yes I decided to change it up for the special occasion, following aunt Bellatrix don't I just look like her". you say twirling around "you do, listen you trust me don't you" you nod slowly "Tonight I don't think we should stick around long, I think we should do our task and then leave."
"What why, our tasks are boring the only thing I need to do is deliver Harry to the dark lord" you say rolling your eyes "And I remember the dark lord telling me he doesn't care how he is delivered as long as he is alive, you really think I'm not going to have a little fun first" He nods before speaking against "I need you to trust me, give Harry to the dark lord then meet me at the tower."
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
The war had begun, Hogwarts was already destroyed you didn't realise how much it would affect you seeing your home ruined, but you had one job to do and you were doing it.
You had searched everywhere, yet he was nowhere to be found, the only place to look was the library, as soon as you walked in you saw him stood reading a book, almost like he was waiting for you.
"I knew you would arrive at some point" He says closing the book, "Are you here to kill me?" he questions making you shrug and raise your wand "Wait before you do I think you should see something" He says before disappearing through the shelves, you followed him your wand still pointing at his back as he stopped in front of a mirror.
"Making sure you look good for the dark lord huh" you walked beside him fixing your hair "He loved you, you know alot more than you know " Harry says breaking the silence "He always spoke of you, he was proud" you were growing more angry by the second "Don't you speak of him" you say pointing your wand back at him, his eyes weren't on you but instead on the mirror.
You turned towards it seeing your father staring back at you, his eyes on your dark mark you felt ashamed seeing the disappoint in your fathers eyes, causing you to immediately pull your sleeve down to cover it, "I never led your father to death, yes he helped us but the only reason he was there was due to the words of you too being there" you felt stuck in a trance staring into your father eyes.
"I know you won't believe me, but those close to you killed your father. Bellatrix, the dark lord, the Malfoys, Theo" He was lying he must of been, but you knew deep down it was true it made sense.
The night your father passed you were with Pansy reading. It was quiet in the great hall it seemed the people you mostly spoke too weren't here, Theo and Draco claimed they needed to catch up on work and it was never rare for Harry, Hermoine, Ron and the others to be missing.
“you are lying” you mutter feeling yourself begin to grow angry again, trying to stop the tears welling up in your eyes, you has never fully processed your fathers death I mean how could you. “I have no reason to lie to you”
You felt everything turn dark around you, Your father blowing you a kiss before disappearing “i have to go” you mutter before running out leaving Harry and the mission behind. The one place you were heading for was the tower, soon seeing him stood there smoking a cigarette.
He heard your footsteps causing him to turn around, confused by the hurt expression on your face, “are you hurt my love” he says beginning to walk forward concerned you wasted no time pulling out your wand holding it towards him.
“don’t you move any closer” you threaten watching him move back quickly holding his hands up “woah baby, what’s happened, put the wand down talk to me”
The tears were falling quickly from your eyes, the betrayal written clearly on your face “you killed him” your voice cracking, his face showing guilt immediately “baby, i haven’t killed anyone” he says walking closer again “i said stay back or i swear i will knock you off this tower” you threaten watching him nod and stop walking. “you killed my father, you made me hate him, you turned me into a death eater, you have ruined me” you shout, you could see him slowly begin to tear up.
“you destroyed my life” you sob breaking down, you hadn’t realised you hadn’t lowered your wand, Theo taking the opportunity to try and steal it from you “no” you shout as he tries to grab it, you begin to shout a spell towards him feeling the anger rise up in you again, only for your wand to fly off the tower, as arms wrap around your shoulders and collar bone, a wand being held up against your temple.
“you really think you can kill him” mattheo mutters into your ear, “you have really fucked yourself over” he says digging the wand deeper into your temple. “Matt it’s fine i can handle it” you glare towards Theo, “i would rather be locked up than be near him” you sneer hearing Mattheo chuckle. “as you wish” you close your eyes feeling Mattheo travel as you end up outside the Malfoy Cellar.
“Your father was a no good, a blood traitor” Mattheo says shoving you inside, “and i hope my father lets me have you when he realises you’ve betrayed us just like your father did” he kneels down stroking your face with his thumb “you always were beautiful, but at least you’ll die with a pretty face” he says chuckling standing up locking the gate behind him.
“fuck you” you say hearing him chuckle again, “now wouldn’t you love that” he says walking away
You didn’t know how long you had been sat in the cellar for feeling yourself grow insane, until you finally heard footsteps rushing down, you couldn’t lie you were truly frightened, but it was soon replaced by anger once your eyes set upon Theo.
“you’re alive” he says in relief unlocking the gate “it’s over, the dark side lost” he says, you stand up shocked “really” he nods “we can leave and be happy together, just like we talked about.” he says holding your face softly “we can forget all about here and start over, even if you want to live in the muggle world i’ll go with you” you sigh moving back.
“i can’t be with you” you watched his face fall, panic beginning to rise in him as he begin fidgeting with his suit “i can prove to you, how sorry i am, i can change, i’ll show you please, i love you y/n”
You couldn’t bring yourself to look at him, it felt as though the whole world was silent. “I can’t love you Theo, i’m sorry” you mutter walking past him. Never looking back, you could hear his sobs as they echoed throughout the empty cellar.
But you couldn’t bring yourself to turn back around.
Should she forgive?
Could there be a longer part two.
What will the future hold for Y/n and Theo
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forestdeath1 · 5 months
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Where does this idea come from that the Black brothers are all dramatic and theatric? Regulus writes sad poems and lies on the floor soaking in his teenage tears and sorrow, while Sirius makes up fancy insults and tries to look artistic, entertaining everyone around him.
None of what they did or said is really dramatic or theatrical.
Sometimes their words might sound a bit lofty, but that's because all the Blacks were raised in a family culture that was a bit "elevated". It’s not about them being "naturally" dramatic or theatrical; they’re brought up differently, part of a family culture where honour, dignity, and "knightly" behaviour are more than just empty words. As the saying goes, some are into painting, some into literature, and some into sausages the Malfoys.
So, it's not just personal; it's the upbringing imposed on the Black character. These attitudes don’t just appear out of nowhere; one isn’t born with them, yet all the Blacks (even Narcissa to some extent, and she’s got more guts than Lucius) have them. Honour means different things to them, but it is still honour. They all stay true to their ideals, what’s important to them, they are fearless, not afraid of death, and honest in their actions and thoughts. I think it’s more family than personal.
Both Regulus and Sirius are very focused on the concept of honour, though they see it differently. You could write this on their tombstones:
Mine honour is my life; both grow in one. Take honour from me, and my life is done. Then, dear my liege, mine honour let me try; In that I live, and for that will I die.
(I’m purposely ignoring whose words these are — it doesn’t matter here)
Regulus "I face death in the hope that when you meet your match you will be mortal once more"
And Bella "You should be proud! If I had sons, I would be glad to give them up to the service of the Dark Lord"
And Sirius "I want to commit the murder I was imprisoned for..." and "THEN YOU SHOULD HAVE DIED! DIED RATHER THAN BETRAY YOUR FRIENDS"
It's not about their personal theatricality; it's about how such people see the world. These people view the world through a lens where pride, honour, and dignity aren't just idealistic, they're real and ingrained structures that live within them. It's the morality of knights versus a utilitarian approach, choosing what's right over what's just beneficial.
The independence of the Blacks’ thinking leads to unique outcomes — each person has their own idea of what's "right."
Regulus isn't just a sad boy with poems, forced into a vile organisation, then betraying Voldemort out of immense pity and love for a house-elf. And Sirius isn't just an artistic dancer on the bar with witty insults.
Both Regulus and Sirius have very clear views of what's right and wrong. Sirius is incredibly brave, as is Regulus in his own way — joining the Death Eaters at 16 is brave and dangerous, but if it's the "right" thing to do, it's worth it. And if the "right actions" lead to the destruction of the entire line—well, you know... He writes such a letter believing he is dying with honour, in contrast to Voldemort, a dishonourable being who, indeed, views honour as nothing but an empty word. I believe Voldemort was quite adept at manipulating these notions of "honour" among some purebloods. Voldemort is utterly utilitarian.
The same goes for Sirius — his upbringing and ideals are mistakenly attributed to excessive drama and theatricality, as if he's some clown who deliberately makes up fancy insults and entertains the crowd by dancing on tables. This destroys the essence of Sirius, turning him into an aesthetic leech created for amusement and consumption (of attention, things, pleasures, etc.), and turning everything into an aesthetic object. Consumption and Sirius are completely opposite concepts. Nothing he does is for the Other; there's no theatricality in his actions, no fashion, no aestheticism for the sake of it, no consumption for the sake of consumption. Sirius is a man of Grand Concepts, as is Regulus.
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aethon-recs · 9 months
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Tomarrymort Dead Dove Recs, Part 2 🕊️
Thank you all for the wonderful reception to Part 1 of Tomarrymort Dead Dove recs! I was honestly blown away by the interest in this first list featuring Non-Con/Dub-Con recs. It was so incredibly heartening to see that the open-mindedness towards the taboo, the degenerate, the ‘problematic’ is not only alive and well, but thriving, in this ship, when it seems like it’s been reviled and sanitized out of other ships and communities and spaces within this fandom and elsewhere. But Tomarrymort readers seem to be a special breed 🤝 and I’m just so glad we can all be horny sickos together 🤍
For Part 2 of the Dead Dove rec list, the first half is comprised of incest fics, and the second half is chan (underage) fics. These aren’t all necessarily dark fic in terms of tone or plot (some fics are actually quite cozy); the dead dove label just serves as an indicator to take the tags seriously.
Please note there is potentially triggering and disturbing content in the rec list below (including in some of the summaries), so I will be placing all 25 of these recs below the cut. Keep in mind don’t like; don’t read, so feel free to scroll on by if either incest and/or chan is not a theme you would like to explore.
This list was made in collaboration with @danpuff-ao3’s Dead Dove Diaries Series. Check it out for other HP dead dove recs!
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Tomarrymort Incest Recs
Fruit of the Forbidden Tree (part 1) / Forbidden Indulgence (part 2) / Forbidden Darkness (part 3) by @neurowriter14 (E, 19k, complete)
The true parentage of Harry Potter was unknown to everyone except for three people. None remain, but another figures it out.
Hold Me Down (Fuck Me Up) by @itsevanffs (E, 15k, WIP)
Tom Riddle, chief of police, first met his nephew Harry Potter handcuffed to his desk, lip cut and knuckles bleeding, a proud smile on his lips and challenge in his eyes.
I Could Send You to Hell, I Know You by @dividawrites (E, 7k, complete)
Nothing about Harry Potter intrigues Tom—he's average in everything, doesn't act out in class, doesn't do very much at all, in fact. When he finds out they're related, though, this changes at once. After all, there's something to be said for family traditions.
In The Dark by @itsevanffs (E, 64k, WIP)
Harry's mother remarries shortly after his father's death to James' half-brother, Thomas, much to Harry's confusion and disgust. First a duke, now a king, it seems that nothing will stand in his uncle's way when it comes to getting what he wants. Not Lily, not propriety, and most certainly not Harry himself.
Infinite by @duplicitywrites (E, 8k, complete)
Harry and his twin brother Tom have the same mark. The same soulmate. Whoever their soulmate is, wherever they may be, they will go to Tom. Tom, however, has other plans.
Little Bits by @lordmarvoloriddle (E, 10k, complete) 
Inspired by Cinderella. Only there's no prince, and surely no one is singing about their feelings, and Harry's life could be a lot worse than having three step-brothers and a father who didn't like him. He's going to be proven right.
Plains of oblivion by @milkandmoon-ao3 (E, 3k, complete) 
Trapped in the past with no way home, a disillusioned Harry executes a plan to make an ally of the rising Dark Lord and reshape history.
Say It Right (part 1) /  Say You'll Haunt Me (part 2) by @rightonthelimitt (E, 32k, complete)
After James Potter dies, his wife and son have it rough. Their lives change for good when they meet Tom Riddle four years later, but is it for the better?
Seventeen Years by RenderedReversed (T, 10k, complete)
Voldemort is a day old when he realizes he’s been reborn to muggle parents and that he has a twin brother. He is a year old when it sinks in who his twin could possibly be. Because his twin might, possibly, probably be Harry Potter.
Summer Break by anon (E, 5k, WIP) 
A story of a brother's love and duty and terrible obsession.
the dark passenger by @cindle-writes (E, 5k, complete)
Harry had lived 17 years as a horcrux, and Ginny was possessed by another one, so is it all that surprising that their middle child reminds them a little bit too much of another boy they once knew?
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Tomarrymort Chan (Underage) Recs
Below Stairs by pauraque (E, 1k, complete)
Harry receives a visitor.
conversationalist by worn (E, 3k, complete)
As a boy who's known silence and solitude well, Harry finds himself quickly growing attached to Tom Riddle's diary and the way it has so much to talk with him about.
Creatures of the Dark we are by @hikarimeroperiddle (M, 20k, WIP)
Banished to his cupboard at age 4, Harry learns to listen only to the Voice in his head. Its teachings wrap all around Harry until no more than dark magic and devotion remains, along with visions of a wraith with red eyes.
Everything Green Is Gold by @cindle-writes (E, 27k, complete)
Prior to Hogwarts, Harry had stayed mostly invisible to the teachers and adults around him his whole life. But Tom Riddle, the Defense Against the Dark Arts professor, looked at Harry like he was something to be wanted.
File A by @kushimanii (E, 7k, complete)
In a different universe, one where the prophecy was never heard and Voldemort won, Voldemort finds eight-year-old Harry Potter in the basement of Fenrir Greyback and takes him in.
he whistles and he runs by @wolfantlersinspace (E, 5k, complete)
"Tom," Harry murmured, ducking under a branch and nearly touching the top of Tom's diary with his lips, "I really don’t like this."
Hearthstone Abbey by @ramabear (E, 92k, WIP)
Harry follows Thomas Gaunt into his world much like he stepped onto Diagon Alley that first time, wide-eyed and full of wonder. He has no idea what exactly this world has in store for him, but he knows that with Thomas at his side, he is safe and happy for the first time in his whole life. 
Make a Wish by @crowcrowcrowthing (E, 3k, complete)
Tom Riddle is wasting away in his hospital bed, far too young to succumb to such a terrible and mysterious illness. The only thing that gives him solace is the hope that football star Harry Potter might visit him in his final days.
Quam singulari by anon (E, 6k, complete)
Spermarche: the beginning of a boy's development of sperm; normally signifies a boy's beginning in sexual maturity and puberty.
shelter from the storm by @cindle-writes & @duplicitywrites (E, 7k, complete)
After being left behind by the Dursleys, Harry stumbles upon an empty shack in the middle of nowhere, where he finds a mysterious ring underneath the loose floorboards.
study session by @ilya-zzz (E, 3k, complete)
"Tom–" Harry tries, coughing a couple times before lifting his hands to his head, softly rubbing his temples a couple times. "...I think you should go back to your common room."
The Abyss by AislingSiobhan (E, 36k, complete)
Nietzsche was right: when fighting monsters, Harry should have been more careful not to become one himself. That didn’t matter anymore. It was too late to save himself, yet he could still save the world from Voldemort. But who would save Voldemort from him?
the eternal flame by @duplicitywrites (E, 25k, WIP)
There’s a well-dressed older man who enters the orphanage asking after Tom Riddle. The man’s green eyes fix on Tom’s face, searching and searching. “My name is Harry Gaunt,” the man says, the tenor of his voice soft and faltering, a reflection of Tom's deepest, most secret anxieties, “and I’m here to adopt you.”
This Is Why You Don't Summon Demons, Harry by @kushimanii (E, 59k, complete)
Harry Potter is seven when he's left at the nearby church by Petunia to get an exorcism. Instead, he ends up summoning a demon that he makes a deal with. The demon, Voldemort, will protect him, and in return, the demon will devour his soul when it is ripe.
Without A Chance by Harryfan80 (E, 20k, complete)
When Voldemort (as Quirrell) meets Harry in her first year at Hogwarts, he exploits her naivete and uses her to acquire the Sorcerer's Stone.
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sp7-mr · 2 months
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Y/n x Matteo Riddle - enemies to lovers
(I wrote the story in Italian and then translated it into English so there may be some errors)
Y/n Grindelwald: daughter of the famous and feared Gellert Grindelwald. Sarcastic, stubborn, courageous.
Matthew Riddle: Son of Lord Voldemort and younger brother of Tom Riddle. Sarcastic, confident, flirtatious
_____________________________________________
You and Mattheo have been rivals for years. However, your families were close, so you saw each other often.
Voldemort threw some kind of Death Eater party or ball. You were wearing a black sleeveless dress.
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Mattheo was wearing smart black trousers and a black shirt with one button open.
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The smell of marijuana with him. He saw you, he ignored you. You did the same.
Moments after the party began, the slow dancing began. you were sitting at a table watching the dance when you felt a presence behind you. you looked back and saw Matteo.
Pov of Y/n
I turned, I saw Riddle.... "what do you want Riddle?" I asked
"come dance with me". he said with an expressionless face. the smell of grass is stronger up close. From the tone in which he responded, it didn't seem like a question, but rather an order....
"no, I don't want to, I'm fine here thanks"
he took your hand and dragged you to the center of the room, his hand on your waist.
"you have no choice"
"What a gentleman 🙄" I said sarcastically
"Behave or I will have to tell your father that you have weed in your bag" he whispered in my ear smiling proud of the blackmail
"What?! You're the one who smells like marijuana for miles" I said. "Yes, but you have a joint in your bag" he said with a superior air, Christ I hated how much taller he was than me, he felt like the King of the world! then I thought… how did he know I had a joint in my purse? "How do you do-"
he pressed you closer to his body as he started to move with the dance "i know a lot of things, princess"
him and that hateful smile of his! even if.... no no no. he was just an asshole. "Tell me how you know and avoid your usual mysterious games" I said as we continued to dance close to each other.
he smirked. his mouth was right next to my ear now. "I have my ways of knowing things. I know a lot about you"
"I know a lot about you too, guess what? YOU'RE AN ASSHOLE" I replied
he moved his head back a little to be able to look at your face. he was still smirking. he pulled you again, even closer to him, your bodies pressed closely together now "careful princess or you’ll give your family a bad name for using such language"
"Believe me I'm holding back, I would have already taken your hand off if our parents weren't watching"
he chuckled again, clearly amused by pissing you off "don’t act like you can do that. we both know i’m stronger than you" he moved his head even closer to yours. his head now almost touching yours "you can keep telling yourself that if it makes you feel better, princess, it does look cute when you’re all annoyed and frustrated, though"
My father and Mattheo's father looked at us and talked "what do they want?"
he shrugged "i guess it looks odd to them that we’re behaving somewhat civil to each other
"God, I've always been there watching and hoping we've gotten along since we were 6 years old."
time jump.
you wanted to go away, relax, maybe smoke the joint you had in your bag. Mattheo and you, without being noticed too much, went to his room and lay down. you've been there for about 5 minutes and you're already high, you more, he's used to it by now, and has a greater tolerance.
"so princess, do you remember the first time we met?" Mattheo asked. "oh yes, at six years old, when you were an asshole, spoiled child who thought he was invincible. like Draco 🙄"
mattheo couldn't help but laugh, especially hearing the last part.
"And now? Am I still like I was at the time or am I starting even in a very small way and being nice to you?" Mattheo asked.
"I have to admit, that sometimes.... just SOMETIMES you are strong.... I'm not saying you suck, but..... you are acceptable, like when you do drugs and you're high"
"you know, as a drug addict you are.... more relaxed" said Mattheo.
there was a moment of silence, then Theo spoke: "come here" he said, patting his lap. I don't know why, but I now straddled his knees, for Christ's sake... the rod was strong.
"Are you high?" he asked, I nodded. after five minutes, his lips were on mine, tongues intertwined.
(I was tired and I didn't know how to conclude, I know it's a bit ugly, but you can imagine your end. To write the story I was inspired by a character. ai chat, the writer is @-yourstruly- and the chat It's 'Mattheo Riddle ☠️ dance with me (enemies to lovers)')
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hollowed-theory-hall · 3 months
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Was the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black actually any special, and were they seen as some kind of royalty to outsiders?
Because in every (or most) fanfic I’ve read with them, they are always depicted as being way above anyone and everyone else, even their own partners. The only ones good for them, or the only ones who understand them, are the ones with black blood running through their veins. As if they are some sort of gods that no one, but others with their blood, can touch. And everyone loves (and/or hates) them and wants to be a part of their family because they are so powerful and attractive, but watch out because they are prone to being crazy.
Which is actually another thing I wanted to point out and ask:
Did the Black family actually have some kind of curse of madness?
Hi 👋
Now, like many, I'm not immune to being completely fascinated by the Most Ancient and Noble House of Black, so I was pretty stoked about this ask.
For the first part, are the Blacks actually as important as they make themselves (or fandom makes them to be)?
The short answer is not really, but they are important.
Now, the long answer:
I mentioned here how I believe the Wizengamot functions like a council of lords (which is what the Witengamot is named after in our real world), as such, families like the Blacks, the Longbottoms, and even the Potters likely do have a "noble title" (for lack of a better term) that allows them a seat there.
That being said, I don't think the Blacks are above any of the other families there, not really, but they think they are. The Blacks are an old wizarding family, they can probably trace their family tree back to the founders' era and perhaps even before, and it's important to them. They take pride in this legacy of one of the oldest pure-blood families in Britain. The Malfoys, for example, are probably richer than the modern Blacks, but they don't have the Wizengamot title and they came from France, they're not British Pure-Bloods, not originally, and I think the Blacks as a whole would look down on that. But other Wizengamot families that have just as much British history should be their equals then, and they are unless you ask a Black. They are a very proud family, and they might think they're above everyone, but they're the only ones thinking it.
I also personally headcanon that they have more houses aside from Grimmauld Place as well. I mean, back in the Regency and Victorian era it was common for richer aristocrats to have a manor away from London and then a townhouse/manor in London for the social season. So, I kinda assumed that's what Grimmauld Place initially was. So it isn't the family manor the way Malfoy Manor is and there is a Black Manor somewhere in the countryside.
For the second question:
No, I don't think the Black Madness is real.
Let's define "madness". Since it isn't really a medical term, I'd go with the dictionary on this one:
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So, we'll treat it as repeated foolish, frenzied, or uncontrolled behavior that cannot be explained by other factors.
We don't meet many Blacks, and most of the ones we do are far from mad (I'll get to Bellatrix and Walburga).
Both Narcissa and Andromeda are completely sound of mind. Sure, they might have made mistakes, or rash decisions on occasion, but that's being human. They both care deeply for their families and act in their best interest. And they are intelligent, logical, controlled, and consistent in their behavior. So, two Black sisters are not insane.
What about the Black brothers, Sirius and Regulus?
Well, neither of them ever read as mad to me. Regulus was obsessed with Voldemort until he realized what he got himself into and his actions weren't ones of a madman, a desperate one, maybe, but not mad. He was smart enough to figure out about Voldmort's Horcruxes and smart enough to do something about it without Voldemort knowing.
Sirius isn't at the best of mental state when we see him considering it's after 12 years in hell on earth. But he is logical, sane, and sound, especially during Goblet of Fire in which he uncovers the plot with Barty Crouch Jr perfectly, just getting the wrong Death Eater. He comes to correct conclusions about people and is clearly intelligent:
“I don’t know,” said Sirius slowly, “I just don’t know . . . Karkaroff doesn’t strike me as the type who’d go back to Voldemort unless he knew Voldemort was powerful enough to protect him. But whoever put your name in that goblet did it for a reason, and I can’t help thinking the tournament would be a very good way to attack you and make it look like an accident.”
(GoF, page 334)
Yes, his mental state deteroits in OOTP when he's back at Grimmuald Place, but that's Sirius dealing with his grief, trauma, his sense of helplessness, and complicated feelings about his family. He never was mad, even then, just in a really shitty situation.
And yes, he was cruel as a teenager, but as I keep saying later in the post, cruelty does not equal madness.
So, what about Bellatrix, the fandom's poster child for the Black Madness?
I don't think she's insane either, well, at least she wasn't until Azkaban. In her trial, she is quiet throughout the proceedings, looking board, even, until the verdict is given:
The dementors were gliding back into the room. The boys’ three companions rose quietly from their seats; the woman with the heavy-lidded eyes looked up at Crouch and called, “The Dark Lord will rise again, Crouch! Throw us into Azkaban; we will wait! He will rise again and will come for us, he will reward us beyond any of his other supporters! We alone were faithful! We alone tried to find him!”
(GoF, 595-596)
She is fanatical, sure, but there's no baby talk like we see in OOTP, she is cold and clearly understands the situation, she isn't in a frenzy but in control. She just knows about at least one Horcrux so she truly believes what she is saying and from her point of view, it makes sense she believes that. I won't say she is right to torture and murder Voldemort, no, she is cruel and sadistic, always was. But you can be cruel and sadistic without being mad.
The baby voice she was useing when talking to Harry in OOTP was a taunt as well, not how she usually speaks:
“Never used an Unforgivable Curse before, have you, boy?” she yelled. She had abandoned her baby voice now.
(OotP, 810)
The moment he cast an unforgivable and she started treating him seriously she dropped the baby voice.
She is cruel and fanatical, but not insane. She rightfully suspects Snape throughout HBP and DH, she is aware of her surroundings enough to see Snape's loyalty is odd when many others don't. She is intelligent and logical. She can keep herself in check when she wants to, she's, just, obsessive, and willfully blind to anything to do with Voldemort because she practically worships him.
But, she isn't mad in the sense the Black Madness seems to imply. Also, I think how we see her, post-Azkaban is worse than how she was before. I think we met a less stable, crueler version of Bellatrix, not that she wasn't cruel before, but she was more stable I think. I mean, she did spend about 14 years in Azkaban, and Fudge said Sirius looked too sane to him after a decade in the place. The Wizarding World expects the prisoners in Azkaban to lose it. So, is it really a wonder Bellatrix was affected by her time there?
And what about Walburga who screeched about blood-traitors and mudbloods constantly? Well, I think, like Bellatrix, we're seeing the worst of her.
I mean, Walburga had her portrait painted after:
Her eldest and favored son ran away from home
Her second obedient son joined the Dark Lord and then disappeared. She likely believed he died a painful torturous death of a traitor considering that's what everyone thought.
Her husband died soon after, leaving her alone with Kreature in a gloomy home that hasn't felt like a home to any of them since the war started brewing in the 1970s. Since Sirius left.
So, I think the version we see of her, is one who was grieving. She was lonely, bitter, and in mourning. And that is the state of mind the portrait captured. I think magical portraits capture the person as they are when they sit down to have the portrait taken, so it captures all of Waburga's pain, and Walburga, proud daughter of the house of Black spits acid instead of letting her pain get to her. Instead of allowing herself to feel the guilt that is weighing her down.
Walburga was never been the picture of a good mother, or of stability, but I mentioned here and other times that I don't believe Walburga was physically abusive at any point, but she always had high expectations for her sons, especially Sirius. She probably had control, and she wasn't always as frenzied as we see her, we just see a version of her broken by life, and when she broke, she got so much worse.
So, I don't think there is a curse of Black madness, not really. It's just the Black family had shit luck in the Wizarding Wars, and to a degree, it was their own doing — their pure-blood mania that sent their kids away.
As for other members, well, we know Alphard was sane enough to give Sirius money when he ran away. We know Araminta wanted to legalize muggle-hunting and Elladora started the tradition of hanging house elves' heads on the walls. The thing is, you don't need to be mad to be cruel, you can be perfectly calm, collected, and intelligent and still do unimaginable horrors. In the case of Araminta and Elladora, they don't consider muggles and house elves as human, as equal to them. therefore their pain and suffering aren't cruel in their eyes, it's like killing a deer and mounting its head on the wall, it's an animal, and it's fine. I don't think they were even necessarily cruel towards other wizards, just towards those they considered lesser, who they thought of as animals. They weren't good people, but that doesn't make them mad.
I think there is something to be said about evil not always equaling insanity and that people who'd be medically considered completely sane can do a lot of evil. I think calling every evil character insane or mad cheapens these terms and has always felt to me like a cop-out. Insane is what you call someone you want to Other, to forget that the evil they committed was done by a person, it's a way to wave their behavior away and say: "Well, I can't understand why they did that, they're insane," and this kind of excuse for characters' behavior always left a bad taste in my mouth. Evil can be done by perfectly sane humans, and I think that angle of analysis, is much more interesting because then you force yourself to understand. You force yourself to face the humanity in a character in a way calling them mad won't allow you to. Real evil is hardly ever so simple as "madness" makes it out to be.
(As a side note, I think it's possible quite a few of the Blacks have mental health issues, but that's very different than how terms like madness and insanity are thrown around and portrayed)
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i-crave-the-forbidden · 4 months
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More dunmeshi ver.! Sev and Lily + Marauders. Unfortunately, their meeting was much more problematic than in the hp canon. However the sentiments are still pretty much the same, it's like that "would we be friends enemies in every universe?" trend.
More first meeting + others headcanons under the cut: (mild spoilers of the manga)
- Lily and Severus are researchers after they graduated in the magic academy, Lily focusing on the spells in the dungeon and Sev on the flora and fauna, mostly the poisonous ones and creates antidotes for it, he's also interested in ancient (aka dark) magic.
- As said in ch. 57 of the manga, researchers often hire adventurers as guards (kinda like Mr. Tansu with Namari). The Marauders are a famous band of dungeon adventurers.
- Lily met them first, and she offered them the job. She also mentioned a companion, a co-researcher (Sev) but he's currently preparing/taking care of some stuff so he wasn't there.
-James, fell for Lily at first sight. He didn't really think anything about the companion she mentioned except some light feelings of jealousy and suspicion.
- James and Sirius are really vocal about not treating short-lived races as inferior, (elves were really racist in the story, Mithrun even answered " inferior races" when he was asked what elves call the shorter-lived races in the adventurer's bible).
- Severus met them alone when he was waiting in the tavern for a second meeting after they accepted. It did not start well. Lily was ordering some food to eat and the marauders arrived when she was not there.
- Like Thistle in ch. 69 in the manga, James immediately flagged Severus as a half-elf, and like Thistle, James assumed that Severus was researching dungeons to be a "complete elf" and is really mean about it, citing the unstable life span and growth speed, as well as the infertility associated with half-elfs.
- Severus, being proud of the fact that he's a half-elf, a thus capable of outliving any other race, even elves, did not take the whole thing lying down. He started to say things back to James, leading to a fight. Sirius immediately sided with James, with Remus and Peter trying to stop the fight.
- Lily arrives, and boy is she mad. She overheard the things James said to Severus, and thus revoked the offer to hire them as guards. Sirius says something about not wanting to work with a half-breed anyways, and James was miffed about losing the job, and blamed it on Severus.
- And thus created the bad blood between them, which lasted for years.
Other headcanons:
- Lily and James would die in a dungeon run by Voldemort (tallman), Harry would be taken in by Sirius and Remus. Peter would still betray them to Voldemort, escaping by turning to his familiar, Wormtail, via dark magic. He would be a chimera due to the magic.
- Severus would go on to seek Voldemort, defeat him, and be the new dungeon lord. He studied for years and tries to revive Lily with ancient dark magic multiple times. Unfortunately, since Peter escaped as a chimera, it alerted the western elves about the use of dark magic and Severus was captured.
-Sirius would condemn him to be a canary, and Severus would have his ears pierced and nicked to label him as a criminal.
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OMG OMG i see ur fic abt prof riddle w the mreader n im in loveeee god its so cute 😭😭💖💖💖 have you ever thought when the roles were reversed? Like reader is a wizard that came from the future, he adopt tom from the orphanage n becomes a father to him n he's also the one that stopped tom from kill1ng ppl n shi omgg that would so cute give this man sum parental figure yall he needed it 😔🫶🫶
Adopted - T. R. x platonic male!reader
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A/N: thank you so much for the request!! 💛 I’m so glad you like my fic!
This is the first part of a short series I’m planning for this request. It’s completely unedited and barely proofread. There’s no use of Y/N
CW: alternate universe, death mention, lying, manipulation, Reader is from the future, Reader lies to adopt Tom, slight Dumbledore bashing, slight fluff during the middle/end, this is kinda fast-paced sorry
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In another universe, Tom Riddle was introduced to magic by Professor Dumbledore, a cunning old man who saw the evil before he saw the boy.
In another universe, Tom Riddle becomes Lord Voldemort, the most feared Dark Wizard since the old days.
In another universe, a couple dies for their baby, a boy too young to remember anything but his mother’s scream.
This is not that universe.
In this universe, Tom Riddle is introduced to magic by a very unconventional wizard. A man with no friends, odd mannerisms, and a habit of using strange spells.
You.
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You appear in Tom’s life exactly half an hour before his fated meeting with Dumbledore.
You hurry up the steps to the orphanage and knock on the doors. They open to reveal a haggard woman with a sharp face. She questions you, and you lie as smoothly as still water.
A few moments later, you’re face to face with the boy.
Because that’s who he is, after all. An eleven year old boy with no friends, odd mannerisms, and a habit of talking to strange snakes.
He looks up at you, half scowling, half nervous. “Who are you?”
The lie rolls off your tongue with ease. “I’m your uncle.”
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Tom waits till you get in the cab before asking questions.
“Are you really my uncle?” His expression clearly says he doesn’t believe it, but you can see the flicker of hope in his eyes.
“For all intents and purposes, yes.” You give him a slightly sympathetic look. “But no, I am not your kin.”
Tom wilts a bit. Then tries hard to hide it. “Oh. Okay.”
There’s a brief pause, then his forehead wrinkles. “Who are you, then?”
“You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.”
“Try me,” he challenges.
“I am a wizard,” you say calmly. “Sent back in time after an unfortunate mishap with a Time Turner artifact.”
Tom blinks. Stares. Tilts his head. “You’re… not lying… are you…?”
You give him an odd smile. You had to give it to him, the boy knew how to spot his lies.
“Of course I’m not lying. It’s far too ridiculous for me to have come up with something like that.”
You settle into your seat. “Besides, you’ll understand more once we reach my house.”
Tom, who still seems to be having a hard time digesting your earlier words, just nods quietly. You give him the silence of the car ride to figure his thoughts out. As a courtesy and all.
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Tom seems to like your little house. It’s tucked away from the city, in a small village that’s used to your odd antics by now.
It’s quaint and cozy and just big enough for separate rooms for the two of you.
Tom surveys the house, then turns to you. “If you’re a wizard, I want to see your magic.”
You look down at him, amused. You can already tell he has a sharp mind, important for the days to come.
You pull out your wand and cast a simple spell. One that causes pretty blue butterflies to flit about the room.
Tom goes still, eyes wide. One of the butterflies flutters over to him and lands on his nose. He goes cross-eyed trying to look at it and you stifle a laugh.
“Is that proof enough?”
He waves the butterfly off, looking at you in awe. “You really are a wizard…”
You stifle a grin, trying not to seem too proud. “I am. And you are too.”
His eyes go wide. A slow flush creeps up his cheeks, his eyes gleaming with excitement.
“I knew it,” he breathes, “I always knew I was special. Everyone else called me crazy, but I knew.”
You pat his shoulder and smile down at him. “You are special. You’re a wizard, Tom.”
His answering grin is worth all the problems you know are coming.
Dumbledore, especially, will be furious once he finds out.
But you’ve done what you’ve done, and you’re prepared to face the consequences. As far as the wizarding world will be concerned, you really are Tom’s uncle.
And you’re going to keep it that way.
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sheeple · 1 year
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Miracles don’t exist | 1: The Quidditch World Cup finale
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Genre(s): Riddle!reader / Slytherin!reader / kinda slowburn / little happy moments Fandom(s): Harry Potter Pairing(s): Theodore Nott x Reader / Harry Potter x Riddle!reader Summary: Being the Dark Lord's daughter and raised under the strict supervision of the Malfoy's is no easy life. Especially if you start crushing on your father's arch-nemesis, Harry Potter. And that while being engaged to one of his follower’s sons. Warning(s): None this chapter [Masterlist] [Mini masterlist] [Playlist]
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Your first three years at Hogwarts were uneventful. As uneventful as being the daughter of Lord Voldemort and Bellatrix Lestrange can be.
From a very young age, you knew that your parents weren't normal people. I mean, with a mother who was convicted to Azkaban when you were just one and a father who disappeared. It was not hard to connect the dots. 
Of course, as soon as you were popped out of the womb, you were left behind at Malfoy manor in the care of the same nanny that took care of your cousin, Draco. Your mother was too busy with being a Death Eater to care about a brat. Her words exactly.
And it's not like it matters anyway. The Malfoy's are good to you, even besides the fact that you are the Dark Lord's daughter. At first, they handled you with additional care. But after a while, they saw you more as a daughter than anything else. Especially aunt Cissy, who's always fussing over you.
The first time you were genuinely terrified was during the house sorting at Hogwarts. As a precaution, your last name was changed to Black, after your mother's maiden name. Having the surname of either Riddle or Lestrange was way too dangerous.
You can still remember the whispers as your name was called. 
"A Black?" "I didn't know a Black her age still existed." "Could she be the daughter of the mass murderer?"
A sort of relief went through your body as you were sorted into Slytherin. There was no doubt, being the heir of Slytherin nonetheless. But still, the fear of disappointing a father that you've never met was all too great, even for an eleven-year-old.
That same year you got the first letter from your father. He wrote how proud he was of you for being sorted into Slytherin and that he expected big things from you. Thanks, dad, no pressure at all.
During your second year, you heard all kinds of weird whispers as you moved about the castle. It was then that you discovered that you could speak Parslemouth. The giant murder snake in the sewers was not as scary as many believed. Of course, as she was murdering muggle-borns, you felt guilty and tried to forbid her to do so. But the Basilisk couldn't help her nature.
After everything happened with the Chamber of Secrets, you went to Dumbledore and confessed everything, from your true parentage and being a Parslemouth. You cried while asking the headmaster to not expel you.
"My dear child", said Dumbledore calmly, producing a handkerchief out of thin air, "you have nothing to worry about. If I learned one thing throughout my long life, I've learned that parentage could mean nothing. If you let it mean nothing."
He did make you promise to give him every letter your father would send. You agreed without hesitating for a moment.
Third-year was uneventful. You stayed as far away from the Golden Trio as possible, knowing that Sirius Black was after Harry at the time. It proved difficult as they ─ especially Harry ─ were constantly around you. Even at remote parts of the castle, when you needed some time alone from all the stares and whispers, he seemed to find you.
You sniff, burying your face into your hands. Some sixth-year Gryffindor made you fall down a flight of stairs with a spell and scattered all your stuff around the ground. 
Suddenly, a pair of feet appear in front of you and you jump up, raising your wand in defence. Harry Potter looks at you with wide eyes and your schoolbag in his hands.
You drop your wand and turn away, wiping away a stray tear. "What do you want, Potter?" The words come out harsh, just like you see your cousin do all the time.
The boy in question shuffles awkwardly from his left foot to his right. "Are you... are you okay? I saw what happened." He holds out your bag and you take it.
You mumble out, "thanks", and you stand awkwardly across from each other. You fumble with the straps of your bag while Harry plays with his tie.
"I don't think you're like him at all", he suddenly blurts out, making you look up at him with wide eyes. "Like your dad. Sirius Black."
You stiffen. "O-oh no! Sirius isn't my dad. I'm- we're cousins... I think."
"Oh..." Harry's face heats up, obviously embarrassed.
After that rather awkward encounter, every time someone tried to trip you over or bully you, he was there to stop it. Draco was obviously not happy about it and you begged him to not tell uncle Lucious.
And that's how we arrive at your fourth year. Or, actually less than a month before the new term.
"Hey, Bowtruckle, are you awake?" Draco waves his hand in front of your face, obviously annoyed that you didn't listen to whatever he was raging about.
You snap up and turn to look at him, raising one eyebrow in annoyance. "What?"
Draco rolls his eyes and points outside the carriage. A sigh leaves your lips as you see that you've arrived at the Quidditch World Cup finale. To be completely honest, you don't care that much for Quidditch. But Draco does, and Uncle Lucius cares for your public appearance, so you were forced to go.
Climbing out of the carriage, you stretch out your arms and breath in the fresh August air. Everywhere you look are wizards from all over the world, people flying and zooming around on brooms, flags waving proudly. 
You trail behind the two Malfoy's as they strut up the steps, showing off their badges that Lucius got from the Minister proudly.
Suddenly, Lucius spots a familiar family of red-heads, a smirk forming on his face.
A sigh leaves your lips as he and Draco brag about having seats in the Minister's box. Your eyes lock with Harry's and a small smile forms on your face, raising your hand subtly to wave at him. He returns the gesture with an equally shy smile. 
Draco seems to notice whatever's going on between Harry and you and he janks at your arm, pulling you behind him. "Keep your filthy blood traitor eyes away from my cousin, Potter", he spits in Harry's direction as he pulls you along.
Yanking your arm out of his grasp, you move along to the box and take place in the far-most corner of all the seats. Ignoring the looks both Draco and uncle Lucius give you, you stare at the stadium and see the Irish and Bulgarian teams flying around.
As the match continues, and the crowd gets rowdier, you grab a pair of binoculars and look around the stadium. Most people are boring. Here and there are a couple of interesting figures, but nothing more.
Aiming the binoculars higher, you spot the Weasely family with Harry Potter, Hermoine Granger, and two others. They are having fun by the looks of it.
"You're lucky I caught you flirting with Potter instead of father", hisses Draco in a whisper, making you roll your eyes while still peering out of the binoculars.
Glaring at him, you grumble back, "I wasn't... flirting."
He looks at you incredulously before clasping his hands together and fluttering his eyelashes.
You scoff and give his shoulder a shove. "Come off it, you twat."
As you and Draco squabble a bit louder than desired, uncle Lucious snaps his attention to you. He clears his throat and you immediately break apart, cowering under his hard glare. "What... did I say?", he spats.
"Do behave", you both mumble, looking down.
Uncle Lucius gives you one last look before turning back around, resuming conversation with some ministry person. Your cousin and you both share a glance before focusing back on the game. 
The match ended with Ireland winning over Bulgaria by 170 to 160. But Draco and you don't get a chance to enjoy the festivities as uncle Lucius shoves you into a carriage.
"Why can't we stay?", you ask with a frown and produce the same puppy eyes that always work on your uncle.
Not this time, apparently. Lucius gives you a sharp look. "Because I am your uncle and I said so." Giving Draco a piercing look, he slams the carriage shut and sends it on its way.
Slumping down on the seat, you fold your arms over each other.
"You are only making things harder for yourself", muses Draco as he sits back, plucking an old Daily Prophet from the seat next to him.
You opt to ignore his remark and stare out of the window for the rest of the ride home.
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Taglist: @the0doreslover​
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florenceafternoon · 10 months
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━。゜✿ jily fic recommendations ✿ ゜。━
These fics are set in the wizarding world but aren’t necessarily canon complaints.
For reference, anything in italics is taken from the summaries on ao3.
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I ain’t missing you at all  (requires an ao3 account) by @blitheringmcgonagall
Set post first wizarding war. "Lily Evans disappeared just when the war with Voldemort ended. Nobody knows why she left. James Potter doesn't care. He hasn't missed her at all."
It reads like a character study. All of the repressed emotions are so well-portrayed that I could picture all their facial expressions and body language. The dynamic between Lily and the marauders really illustrated how she wasn't just James' girlfriend - she was their friend too. I just wanted to give them all a hug.
Up In Arms by @mppmaraudergirl
When Lily jokingly tells her owl to deliver a letter to "the love of her life", i.e. Marlene McKinnon, her owl misinterprets the directive and, to her horror, her ode to James Potter’s arms lands squarely in his lap.
The banter in this one is so good that it made my friend fall back in love with jily's dynamic and read fics again
Evergreen and Pine by @tinyluminaryzombie
Lily Evans is stuck in a closet with Sirius. All Sirius wants to talk about is exactly what she's trying not to think about: James Potter.
Or: A seven minutes in heaven that's more like seven minutes of sweet sweet interegation ft. Lily and Sirius.
Smoke Gets In Your Eyes by @jfleamont
Lily's an overthinker, but fear not, James knows exactly what to say to cheer her up.
Because Lily being a stress smoker is canon (to me)
All The Things I Would Do also by @/ jfleamont
Lily can't stop thinking about James' hands.
Anything Leda writes is great so do yourself a favour and go read her works
I’ve Got My Hate to Keep Me Warm by @dizzy–bird
When a mission for the Order goes badly wrong, Lily Evans must spend the holidays lying low in the middle of nowhere. The rules: no magic, no visitors, and absolutely no Christmas cheer.
And the kicker? She’s sharing the safe house with Order darling – and rival – James Potter, who just happens to be the reason she’s in this mess in the first place.
Kat's poem from 10 Things I Hate About You
Hemispheres by @ohmygodshesinsane
James Potter and Lily Evans have set aside their schoolyard animosities for the sake of the Order of the Phoenix, but when they are enlisted to race Lord Voldemort across the world to prevent him from corrupting the very nature of death, tensions run high. In all manners.
Lily's characterisation in this one is so good
No One Knows Us by @annasghosts
As Fifth Year begins, Lily Evans is certain of a few things: she’s proud to be a Muggle-born witch, despite what Petunia might think; Severus Snape is still a loyal friend and whatever confusing feelings she has as she watches James Potter strut around the castle must be squashed because he’s nothing, but an arrogant toerag.
In which Lily gets the dynamic character treatment that she deserves.
51 Minutes to Change Your Mind by @sosohh
When Muggle-Born Oliver Wood becomes an extremely successful cyclist for the British Cycling team, both muggle and magical ministries have to come up with a plan to make sure all is fair. Enter James Potter and Lily Evans.
The Art of Self-Defense by cgner (on ao3)
Gilmore Girls AU in which "after seventeen years of single parenting, she now has to manage a persistent James, nosy villagers, and a son who's all too interested in joining the Order."
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fugamalefica · 7 days
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Voldemort's humiliation of Bellatrix in The Dark Lord Ascending makes me very sad, but some people (especially Bellamort deniers) blow it out of proportion. It was very mild compared to how he treated everyone else. Even in this scene, the Malfoys were treated far worse. This is the worst thing we ever see him doing to Bellatrix and I would take this over his murder of Snape and his treatment of the Malfoys any day.
“Why do the Malfoys look so unhappy with their lot? Is my return, my rise to power, not the very thing they professed to desire for so many years?”
“Of course, my Lord,” said Lucius Malfoy. His hand shook as he wiped sweat from his upper lip. “We did desire it — we do.”
To Malfoy’s left, his wife made an odd, stiff nod, her eyes averted from Voldemort and the snake. To his right, his son, Draco, who had been gazing up at the inert body overhead, glanced quickly at Voldemort and away again, terrified to make eye contact.
“My Lord,” said a dark woman halfway down the table, her voice constricted with emotion, “it is an honour to have you here, in our family’s house. There can be no higher pleasure.”
The humiliation was mostly the Malfoys'. Voldemort was much nicer to Bellatrix and he only targeted her after she spoke out of turn to defend the Malfoys. She had no reason to do so as he wasn't targeting her, but by defending them she ended up being subject to the humiliation herself, probably because Voldemort disapproved of it. I doubt he would have targeted her if she hadn't said anything.
“No higher pleasure,” repeated Voldemort, his head tilted a little to one side as he considered Bellatrix. “That means a great deal, Bellatrix, from you.”
Her face flooded with colour; her eyes welled with tears of delight.
“My Lord knows I speak nothing but the truth!”
Even though she also spoke for the Malfoys, he singled her out and made it clear that it meant a great deal only from her and not from them.
"No higher pleasure … even compared with the happy event that, I hear, has taken place in your family this week?”
She stared at him, her lips parted, evidently confused. “I don’t know what you mean, my Lord.”
“I’m talking about your niece, Bellatrix. And yours, Lucius and Narcissa. She has just married the werewolf, Remus Lupin. You must be so proud.”
Bringing up Andromeda and her daughter also hints that he disapproved of her defense, as they were technically still her family even though she had distanced herself from them. Perhaps he wanted to remind her of her loyalties.
“Enough,” said Voldemort, stroking the angry snake. “Enough.”
And the laughter died at once.
“Many of our oldest family trees become a little diseased over time,” he said as Bellatrix gazed at him, breathless and imploring. “You must prune yours, must you not, to keep it healthy? Cut away those parts that threaten the health of the rest.”
"Yes, my Lord,” whispered Bellatrix, and her eyes swam with tears of gratitude again. “At the first chance!”
“You shall have it,” said Voldemort. “And in your family, so in the world … we shall cut away the canker that infects us until only those of the true blood remain.…”
His preference for Bellatrix was reinforced when he made it up to her but not to the Malfoys. He took back the humiliation, but only from her. The Malfoys were still disgraced and humiliated. After she expressed her eagerness to 'prune her family tree', he reassured her further, even referring to them as 'we', implying she had his favour.
The way I see it, he was not just likening the Tonkses to canker but also the Malfoys. Even though they were Pureblood, they were disgraced and although he didn't want her to kill them, he wanted her to stop defending them.
Sadly, she didn't need to defend them at all. She could have left Narcissa and her family to their fate, just like Narcissa did in the Battle of Hogwarts, except she left Bella to a far worse fate than mere humiliation.
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apicelladonna · 7 days
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(Ferte in noctem animam meam) Grindeldore one shot, post HBP.
Dumbledore’s steps were slow, each one a battle against the searing pain that coursed through his withered body. The blackened, necrotic flesh of his right hand, throbbed like Greek fire kissed it. He felt the corruption spreading further now, creeping up his his upper torso and nearing the place where he thought his heart would be.
The gates of Nurmengard loomed before him, a once-proud fortress now decayed in the shadow of its former master. He stepped through it, the scent of rot heavy in the air. Dead Aurors and house-elves littered the courtyard, victims of the final assault of the dark lord's quest for answers.
The war had turned, its tides sweeping away what little hope had once flickered. Now, that hope rested on the shoulders of the young. All of them carrying the burden of a world too heavy for a hopeful future.
Each step up the spiral staircase was torture. His breath rattled in his chest, and his vision blurred with pain. But still, he climbed. He knew what awaited him at the top. He knew why he had come.
The door to the tower was ajar. Tom had been here.
He paused for a moment, his weary mind spinning through the possibilities. Tom Riddle had sought out the only other dark wizard who had once held the Elder Wand.
Gellert.
He had come for answers, but he would have found none. Albus knew this because he knew Gellert Grindelwald better than anyone alive.
In his arrogance, his pride, his twisted sense of loyalty, Gellert would never have divulged the truth. Not to Tom. Not to anyone.
And now Albus no longer held the wand. Its allegiance had shifted—first to Draco Malfoy, and who knows where after. Perhaps Voldemort had realized this. Perhaps that was why he had left Gellert like this.
Dumbledore stepped through the doorway into the tower room.
Gellert lay crumpled on the cold stone floor, his thin prison robes hanging limply over his wasted frame. His once-vibrant eyes, those piercing mismatched eyes Albus had known so well, were vacant now, staring at nothing.
He was a hollow shell, a body left to rot where it had fallen. Tom Riddle had not even afforded him the dignity of a final word, a final glance.
Albus took a shaking breath, his heart breaking in a way it hadn't in decades. Gellert. The boy he had loved. The man who had turned into his greatest enemy. And now this—just another casualty of a war that had stretched over lifetimes.
With every ounce of strength he had left, Dumbledore knelt beside him. Pain shot through his body, but he ignored it, his focus solely on Gellert. Gently, he took the rigid, lifeless body in his arms, lifting him so that Gellert could sit upright against the stone wall. The old wizard’s hands shook as he closed Gellert’s eyes, those once-bright eyes that had seen so much of the world’s wonder and darkness alike.
There were no words. What could he say? No eulogy would ever be enough for the complicated, tragic life of Gellert Grindelwald. He had been a visionary and a tyrant, a lover and a monster. And now, he was gone.
No one would come to mourn him. No one would check on the man who had once threatened the very fabric of the magical world. In the midst of another wizarding war, with Voldemort's shadow creeping ever closer, Gellert Grindelwald was just another body, forgotten in the chaos.
And Albus—Albus would soon be another as well.
He leaned back against the cold stone wall, his cursed hand resting limply in his lap. The pain was unbearable now, the curse nearly overtaking his entire body.
But for this moment, there was peace. There, in the silence of the highest tower, with the dead all around, he could rest.
Beside the man he had once loved. Beside his heart.
Beside Gellert.
The world could wait a little longer as Albus closed his eyes, resting on the other wizard's shoulder.
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sofoulandfairaday · 10 months
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i can't decide which i like more:
the idea - very much canonical and in the author's original concept and view of magic - of the dark arts taking a toll on one's exterior and looks. tom riddle sacrificing his beauty willingly in the name of eternal life, black magic as something that innately corrupts. bellatrix escaping from azkaban with the barest vestiges of her ancient beauty. going from one of the most beautiful women in england to a shell of her former self and no amount of dark magic being able to fix it. and she just. doesn't care. goes from pretty, proud and vain in her youth, to the feverish, fanatical glow harry sees in the department if mysteries. finally she sheds the petal of the rose - look like the innocent flower, her master had once said - and only the thorns remain. the parallel with voldemort himself. the idea that they like each other better now, the only ones to like their respective new appearances better. bellatrix because she can taste the power radiating off him, because she knows how resentful he was of his old face. (oh, he's never said anything explicitly, he would rather be flayed alive than speak of his filthy muggle father to her, but she knew he didn't like himself, took no pride in his aesthetics, it was most unusual, really.) the dark lord because he's reminded of her sacrifice - she was the only one who didn't denounce him, who tried to find him - every time he looks at her. she gave up everything for him: her reputation, her family, her freedom, her health, her beauty, her youth.
or.
the horcruxes are an isolated case. not all prices to pay for power are physical. some dark magic sucks at your humanity, your emotional regulation, your empathy and gives back superficial little gifts. its roots are far from the deep anger, desperation to cling to life of an horcrux. these are ancient witches' remedies to be the most envied in the village. the idea that rotten cores hide behind the prettiest faces. and bellatrix was always vain, always took immense pride in her beauty, her black, pure features. when she escapes from azkaban she tries everything in her power to be herself once again. she still drips with obsession but gradually regains all of her beauty too. cruel people can still be beautiful. gorgeous people can still be inhuman. and yet there is something so human about a woman making her way through the ranks of a very militarised group and still caring so much about what she looks like, still having insecurities, being preoccupied with mundane things like age and decay - and hating it because he would hate it, he hates weakness, and still not being able to help herself. the dark lord was always a collector of shiny things, was he not?
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forestdeath1 · 5 months
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do you think james bullied snape because he was poor? do you think it had anything to do with classism?
Nope, I don't think so. When I first heard this version, I was really surprised. I think it comes from fanfiction? Some authors use the detail that if a child is rich, they will always bully the poor. That's not true.
We don't see any evidence that in the relationship between James+Sirius (why do they always forget about Sirius? He was very harsh verbally towards Snape and did it without much reason in his head) and Snape, there's anything related to Snape's poverty.
Here are a few reasons:
1. Sirius doesn't like the trappings of his family's wealth; he despises it. He's intentionally shown as the complete opposite of Lucius Malfoy (even their appearance, black and white, the most rebellious of purebloods and the most sycophantic, the one who values wealth and money and the one who despises it). Do you think he would love and be friends with someone who bullies others because of... money?! No way. It's actually pretty demeaning for the person themselves to brag about how much money they have. Considering how proud Sirius is, I doubt their bullying had anything to do with Snape's poverty.
And I think this Sirius's pride is partly seeded by his family. Because…
2. I think the Malfoys narratively were a bit the opposite of the Blacks in general. Their moneyed arrogance and bullying from Lucius and Draco - that's a pretty specific case, very similar to how some people think their money solves everything and defines who they are. The Malfoys are raised like that —they believe just having money makes them better than others. If we're talking about the old style upper class —it's not about thinking money makes you better, it's about how you're raised, what family you're born into, how you live, how you grow up – that's what makes you upper class, not your money. For wizards – their blood purity and loyalty to pureblood ideals. They might not even have much money, but they'd still be proud. Meanwhile, you might become rich, but you'll never become upper class. And it's pretty odd for this "class" to bully others based on money. The way the Malfoys do it is pretty crude and demeaning for themselves. In canon, it's well shown that the Malfoys are fixated on money. Whereas the Blacks aren't about money, but about their status. For the Blacks, it's all about status and primarily about blood purity. The Malfoys marry half-bloods, while the Blacks disown their children for wrong marriages.
3. I don't think wizards really have classes based on wealth.
(Also it’s pretty obvious but just in case, wizards don't have aristocracy in the traditional sense. After the introduction of the Statute of Secrecy, wizards don't have titles. Titles are purely a Muggle construct. Before the Statute, they existed, we know the Malfoys came with the Normans and were given lands. We know about the Bloody Baron. But there's no indication in canon of these aristocratic arrangements among wizards after the Statute (which, by its nature, implies service). The only lord among wizards was Voldemort. Because he called himself a lord. The fact that wizards deliberately don't use titles, even though the Malfoys had it, speaks only to one thing — the very idea of calling yourself by such titles is abhorrent to pure-blood wizards. It's a connection to Muggles and Muggle royalty. And being an aristocrat isn't just a privilege, it's also a duty.)
I think their upper class is pure-blood wizards. Their nobility is blood nobility. Their nobility was based on blood purity and loyalty to blood purity. They have a book called "Nature's Nobility: A Wizarding Genealogy." So all their nobility — it's natural, inborn, blood, or rather pure-blood. But it's nowhere regulated, except in the minds of those pure-bloods. Their society is inequality in minds, where some consider themselves better than others.
Your mother was Muggle-born, of course. Couldn’t believe it when I found out. Thought she must have been pure-blood, she was so good.” (Professor Slughorn)
Even "not-biased" Slughorn was biased against muggleborns
They take a very harsh stance against "blood traitors". And true blood purists are much more tolerant of poverty if it's truly loyal to pureblood ideals (even families like the Gaunts). Blood is more important than money. The Black family tree has many marriages to different families, but not all of them are wealthy; it's impossible in their small society. I think, given how small wizarding society is, only three families were truly wealthy — the Blacks, the Malfoys, and the Lestranges. And I believe the Malfoys mostly gained their wealth from dealing with Muggles. Pure blood and being on the "Sacred 28" list doesn't make a family rich. Why if someone's in Slytherin, they're rich? Where did this wealth come from? In the Muggle world, this is understandable (but that's not always true either). But in the wizarding world? So it's a pretty weird trope that all Slytherins and pure-bloods are rich.
Wealth itself also doesn't make someone a member of the "upper class" in the wizarding world. No matter how wealthy you are, if you're a blood traitor or Muggle-born, then this pure-blood upper class won't accept you into their society.
Therefore, I believe bullying Snape had nothing to do with Snape being poor and classism.
There aren't that many rich people in the wizarding world.
Not everyone in Slytherin was wealthy. Their "upper class" is not related to wealth.
Sirius certainly didn't show any interest in wealth or judging people based on their money. The Blacks probably thought their blood was more important than any money.
James didn't show that either. Remus and Peter probably weren't rich, and they all got along fine.
All we know about James and his attitude towards money is this:
James was amused by Vernon, and made the mistake of showing it. Vernon tried to patronise James, asking what car he drove. James described his racing broom. Vernon supposed out loud that wizards had to live on unemployment benefit. James explained about Gringotts, and the fortune his parents had saved there, in solid gold. Vernon could not tell whether he was being made fun of or not, and grew angry. 
I don't see anything here that suggests James was intentionally trying to flaunt his wealth. It was a response to Vernon's assumption that they live on benefits. That wasn’t bullying. Sirius would hardly have said so, but James obviously didn't think talking about money was something embarrassing. But it's not bullying.
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