#Odette Malfoy

[martimartinka20]

4. Tam, Gdzie Ściany Mają Uszy

Spanikowała. Oczywiście, że tak, przecież co innego miałaby zrobić Odette Malfoy w tej sytuacji? Zawsze odwieczna panika. Minęło 5 lat, nie powinna tego tak przeżywać. Jak zwykle jednak Ral twierdził co innego, ale to nie znaczy, że miał rację. Przeważnie ją miał, ale "przeważnie" nie znaczyło "za każdym razem".

Ral był jej współlokatorem. Starszy od niej, nieco samotny, z doświadczeniem. Życie go nie oszczędziło, dlatego musiał znaleźć się u niej. Przygarnęła go, znali się paręnaście lat, nie zostawiłaby go na lodzie. To on był przy niej tamtej nocy, w której zdarzyła się tragedia, od której wszystko się zaczęło...

Szła właśnie w stronę Ministerstwa Magii wejściem dla gości, żeby móc przyjrzeć się mugolskim ulicom Londynu. Mogła wejść jak zawsze, siecią Fiuu, ale nie chciała. Musiała trochę odpocząć, poukładać sobie w głowie parę spraw, zanim ruszy do Hogwartu.

To nie miała być długa podróż. Dzieciaki i niektórzy profesorowie ruszyli z rana Ekspresem Hogwart, ale Knot nie chciał, aby ona i Dolores musiały spędzić parę godzin w pociągu z bandą nieletnich czarodziejów. Dlatego kazał zorganizować dla nich świstoklika do Hogsmeade, skąd miały udać się do zamku. Wszystko było zaplanowane tak, by pojawiły się w szkole pół godziny przed przyjściem uczniów. Ich rzeczy zostały spakowane wcześniej i przewiezione w specjalnym wagonie, by drodzy szpiedzy nie musieli się wysilać. Cóż za niezmierna łaska.

Mimo gwaru londyńskich kamienic, Odette nie mogła skupić się na niczym poza tamtą pamiętną nocą miesiąc temu. Pickles unikał jej od tamtej pory, w trosce o własne życie. Była mu wdzięczna, bo nie ręczyła za siebie.

Teleportowała się przed drzwiami do mieszkania Przez chwilę bawiła się kluczami, próbując znaleźć ten właściwy. Nie otworzyła ich, za bardzo się trzęsła. Poddała się po piątej próbie.

Ral i jego zaklęcia ochronne, niech go szlag trafi.

Oparła się o ścianę, czując jak klatka piersiowa coraz bardziej pali ją z każdym wdechem. Ścisnęła dłonie i zaczęła walić pięściami w drzwi. Ciągnęła za klamkę, rzucała Alohomorę, wszystko, żeby naruszyć barierę. Sama nie wejdzie, ktoś musiał ją wpuścić.

Po chwili z drugiej strony usłyszała głos swojego przyjaciela. Cholera, nawet nie wiedziała, jak za nim tęskniła.

– Kto to? – doszedł zza ściany niski ton.

Właśnie, przecież nikt poza nią nie wiedział, że czarodziej tu mieszka. Ta naiwność.

– Ral? – odezwała się słabo. – Tu Odette.

Nie spodziewała się, że drzwi otworzą się z takim impetem. Odruchowo odskoczyła od wejścia, w którym teraz stał średniego wzrostu mężczyzna po pięćdziesiątce. Uśmiechnęła się do niego słabo, a on niezwłocznie wciągnął ją do przedpokoju, upewnił się, że nikt ich nie widział i zatrzasnął drzwi z hukiem.

Ale delikatny.

– Co ci się stało? – zapytał dość ostro, podchodząc do niej.

Leżała na podłodze, oparta o ścianę błądziła wzrokiem po pokoju. Rejestrowała płaszcze na drewnianych wieszakach, wielką, debową szafę w rogu pomieszczenia, półkę na klucze, fotel, lustro, albumy na regale...

– Zabiłam ich – szepnęła Odette. Jej głos tylko nieco ponad ciszę. – Zabiłam ich...

Ral zdawał się przyglądać jej uważnie przez kilka chwil, po czym usiadł obok niej i złapał mocno za ramię.

– To nie ty ich zabiłaś – stwierdził rzeczowo mężczyzna. – Ich losy były przesądzone.

Blondynka zaprzeczyła głową w obłędzie.

– Gdybym była tam szybciej... Gdybym przewidziała...

Z jej oczu zaczęły sączyć się łzy, a twarz nabrała trupio bladego odcienia. Jej przerażony wzrok skrzyżował się ze spokojnym spojrzeniem Rala i przez chwilę miała wrażenie, że czas się wokół nich zatrzymał.

– Przestań. – powiedział stanowczo, mocno szarpiąc ją za rękę. – To nie twoja wina, że nie byłaś tam na czas. To nie twoja wina, że nikt ci nie powiedział.

Spojrzał na nią gniewnie, ale łagodnie zarazem. Ten wyraz twarzy mógł należeć tylko do niego. Mimo chęci, mimo prób uwierzenia w jego słowa, coś nie pozwalało jej odpocząć. Nie miał racji, nie mógł mieć. W końcu to ona powinna tam być, to ona powinna pomóc. Taki jej obowiązek.

– Skończ z tym pieprzeniem i weź się w garść. – zarządał czarodziej, potrząsając nią. – Za miesiąc jedziesz zajmować się nieodpowiedzialną bandą bachorów, nie możesz załamywać się na pierwszą lepszą wzmiankę o dzieciach. Wstawaj, idziemy ci zrobić herbatę.

Iście pamiętna data. Odette sama do końca nie wiedziała, jak to się stało, że udało jej się uspokoić. Tamtej nocy spała w swojej sypialni, a Ral obserwował ją, siedząc na skraju łóżka, dopóki nie był pewien, że zasnęła. Zawsze to robił. Tamten incydent to nie pierwszy raz, kiedy coś takiego miało miejsce. W jej spanikowanym stanie słodkie słówka nie pomagały i szybko się o tym przekonali. Trzeba z nią było postępować ostro, nie zapewniać, że będzie lepiej, wygarnąć to, co powinna usłyszeć. Nie była jajkiem, miała grubą skórę, przez którą należało się przebić. Ral to wiedział.

– Dzień dobry, panno Malfoy! – usłyszała po swojej lewej stronie.

Znajdowała się w gościnnej recepcji Ministerstwa Magii.

Jak ja tu weszłam?

– Szuka panienka czegoś konkretnego? – zapytała Margaret Whitman, jedna z recepcjonistek.

Nie, tak sobie przeszłam parę kilometrów, żeby sobie pooglądać ściany.

Margaret Whitman była niską, przysadzistą kobietą przy kości. Miała nieco ponad 80 lat, ale wciąż pracowała i miała się nieźle. Z pewnością nie należała do najbardziej znanych twarzy ministerstwa, ale do najbardziej lubianych już tak.

– Jestem umówiona z Dolores Umbridge i drogim ministrem, aby spotkać się na chwilę przed podróżą – wyjaśniła krótko blondynka.

Starsza spojrzała na nią zaciekawiona, jakby już chciała pytać, czemu weszła przejściem dla gości, ale się powstrzymała. Rzuciła jej tylko serdeczny uśmiech i wskazała drogę do windy.

– Jestem pewna, że trafisz we właściwe miejsce. Miłego dnia, panno Malfoy! – jej melodyjny sopran odbił się echem od ciemnych ścian.

Odette skinęła jej uprzejmie głową i ruszyła w odpowiednim kierunku. Już po kilku minutach wchodziła do biura Ministra Magii.

– W samą porę, panno Malfoy! – krzyknął Knot, kiedy zamykała drzwi. – To moja Starsza Podsekretarz, Dolores Jane Umbridge. Jestem pewien, że już ją znasz.

Młodsza czarownica odwróciła się w ich stronę i powoli schodziła w dół stopni, uśmiechając się uprzejmie.

Oczywiście, że ją znała, tylko nowi niczego o niej nie wiedzieli. Każdy o zdrowych zmysłach miał pojęcie na temat jej oddania ministerstwu. "Wszystko w imię dobra" - powtarzała. "Ministerstwo wie najlepiej" - powtarzała. Tych cytatów można byłoby przywołać tysiąc, a i tak nie oddałoby się podziwu, z jakim traktowała Ministra Magii. Ubóstwiała go z wręcz prześmiewczą czcią, lecz była przy tym w pełni poważna.

– A oto moje najnowsze odkrycie – podekscytował się Korneliusz. – Panna Odette Malfoy, uzdrowicielka i pracownica Departamentu Magicznych Wypadków i Katastrof. Kuzynka Lucjusza Malfoya, mojego zaufanego znajomego. Jestem pewien, że dobrze się zapoznacie.

Twoje odkrycie?

Kobiety mierzyły się przez chwilę wzrokiem, ale z ich twarzy ani na sekundę nie schodził sztuczny uśmiech. Obie doskonale wiedziały, że były tu tylko po to, by wypełnić swój obowiązek, a nie zawierać nowe znajomości. Mimo wszystko podały sobie ręce.

– Jakże miło mi panią poznać, pani Umbridge – przywitała ją Odette.

– Ach, wystarczy Dolores. Cała przyjemność po mojej stronie, Odette – odparła czarownica, z miejsca przechodząc na "ty".

Grała dobrą szopkę przed ministrem, to musiała jej przyznać. Zobaczy, jak jej to dalej pójdzie.

– No, czas się zbierać, drogie panie. Za chwilę powinnyście znaleźć się w sektorze deportacyjnym – stwierdził Knot pospieszająco.

~*~*~

Mówiąc, że uczniowie niezbyt przychylnie zareagowali na pojawienie się w szkole pracowników ministerstwa, użyłoby się strasznego niedopowiedzenia. Chyba tylko część Ślizgonów była tym faktem zachwycona i Odette wydawało się, że miało to coś wspólnego z jej krewnym, Draconem. To dziecko było tak rozpieszczone i skrzywdzone zarazem, że większej rozbieżności chyba nie dało się stworzyć. "Pieniądze to klucz do wszystkiego".

Chyba w twojej chorej wyobraźni, Lucjuszu.

Wyjątkowo przyglądała się sławnemu Harry'emu Potterowi. Chłopak wyglądał normalnie, jadł, rozmawiał, czasami się śmiał. Mimo wszystko coś w jego oczach i sposobie, w jaki raz po raz patrzył nieprzytomnie w jeden punkt sprawiało wrażenie wyobcowania. O czymś myślał i Odette domyślała się, o czym. Turniej Trójmagiczny musiał przewrócić jego życie do góry nogami, o ile to w ogóle wciąż było możliwe. Miała ochotę mu pomóc, dać mu się wygadać, przytulić. Co prawda patrzył na nią, jakby to ona zabiła mu rodziców, ale rozumiała jego wrodzoną niechęć do Malfoyów. W końcu jej "bratanka" nie dało się zaliczyć do najsympatyczniejszych nastolatków. Jaki ojciec, taki syn.

Po uczcie syn Narcyzy zaczepił swoją kochaną cioteczkę na korytarzu i zaciągnął do pokoju wspólnego Slytherinu. W dość dosłownym tego zdania znaczeniu, bo jego banda, ciągnęła ją za ręce tak długo, aż zgodziła się z nimi pójść. Nachalność dzisiejszej młodzieży.

– Zobaczysz, spodoba ci się, ciociu – zapewniał Draco przez większość drogi.

W sumie dobrze było zobaczyć swój dawny dom po tylu latach z dala od niego. Może Ślizgoni przeważnie nie przepadali za Hogwartem, ale dla czystokrwistych uczniów to jedyne miejsce, w którym mogli odpocząć od rodzin. Nie wszystkim się udawało, niektórzy rodzice potrafili być bardzo stanowczy, jednak dla Odette to miejsce było gwarancją spokoju przez prawie 10 miesięcy w roku. Z dala od jej szalonego ojca i bezsilnej matki.

Nie powiedziałaby, że jej życie wyglądało fatalnie. Nie była torturowana, nikt się nad nią nie znęcał, ale Raxtus, stryj Lucjusza i brat Abraxasa, uwielbiał ignorować swoją jedyną pociechę, przez co cały czas czuła się, jakby nie miała ojca. Przynajmniej z matką mogła porozmawiać, ale brakowało jej twardych rozmów albo ojcowskiej miłości, o której tyle słyszała. W szkole nikt jej nie olewał. Tutaj była kimś. Dziwnym trafem to w Draconie widziała swoje odbicie.

Po wieczorze spędzonym na rozmowach, grach, przekupowaniu i próbie zarobienia dodatkowych punktów, ten dzień mogła uznać za skończony. Nie spodziewała się, że jej krewniak aż tak dorósł od ostatniego spotkania. Przynajmniej nie używał już aż takiej ilości żelu do włosów, ale charakterek wciąż miał.

– Dobry wieczór – wzdrygnęła się na dźwięk niskiego, leniwego głosu.

A liczyłam na spokojny spacer do sypialni...

Odwróciła się i ujrzała przed sobą Snape'a, ale coś z nim było nie tak. Jego szaty zostały rozszarpane, włosy potargane, a z twarzy dało się wyczytać zmęczenie. Opierał się ostrożnie o ścianę, a kiedy podchodził do niej, mogłaby przysiąc, że kulał na prawą nogę. Do tego szedł w stronę lochów, w których powinien być godzinę temu.

– Dobry wieczór, Sewerusie – odparła szeptem w ciszy ciemnego korytarza.

– Lepiej nie kręć się tu o tej porze, jeśli Dumbledore nie przydzieli ci obchodu. Choć wątpię, abyście ty i Dolores chętnie spełniały jego rozkazy – ostrzegł z nutą sarkazmu tak mu nieobcą.

– Mogłabym powiedzieć to samo o tobie i chodzeniu po błoniach o północy – stwierdziła oschle, mierząc go wzrokiem.

Mistrz Eliksirów zatrzymał się na chwilę, po czym spojrzał na nią wyzywająco i wysyczał przez zaciśnięte zęby:

– Nie wtykaj nosa w nie swoje sprawy.

– To nie mów mi, co mam robić – spiorunowała go wzrokiem, robiąc krok do przodu.

Nie mogła powiedzieć, że się nie lubili, przeważnie mieli co do siebie neutralne stosunki. Tym razem jednak oboje byli zmęczeni i nie mieli ochoty na reprymendy ze strony współpracowników. Przez chwilę patrzyli sobie w oczy gniewnie, żadne z nich nie chciało odpuścić, ale wtedy usłyszeli coś z zewnątrz budynku i oboje ruszyli do własnych komnat.

~*~*~

Była godzina 01:27, kiedy profesor McGonagall w swej kociej postaci, patrolowała korytarze Hogwartu. Szukała uczniów, którzy z marszu mieliby ochotę na tygodniowy szlaban u Filcha przez krzątanie się po godzinach poza dormitoriami.

Właśnie mijała posąg jednej z czarownic z Salem, kiedy usłyszała szept. Czyżby ktoś kręcił się po czwartym piętrze? Rozejrzała się i ujrzała, że drzwi do Skrzydła Szpitalnego są szczelnie zamknięte. Jednak ktoś musiał tu być.

Zrobiła kilka kroków w stronę głosu i zorientowała się, że dochodził z jednej z sal.

– Wiem, ale co ja mam zrobić? – odezwał się jakiś kobiecy głos. – Nie mogę nad tym tak po postu zapanować... Nie da się... Próbowałam, uwierz mi... Ale jak?... Byłoby łatwiej, gdybyś tu był...

Poznała ten głos. Odette Malfoy. Musiała dostać tę salę jako swoją komnatę, bo przecież w Skrzydle Szpitalnym spała Poppy. Z kim ona właściwie rozmawiała o tej godzinie? Do tego o czym rozmawiała? Minerwa nie miała czasu się domyślać, wślizgnęła się do środka i przemieniła w człowieka. Kominek był zgaszony.

Blondynka stała jak słup soli, wpatrując się w nauczycielkę transfiguracji, która uważnie obserwowała każdy kąt. Co ona tu robiła?

McGonagall musiała zauważyć zaskoczenie na twarzy uzdrowicielki, bo zaczęła wyjaśniać pospiesznie.

– Robiłam obchód na piętrze, kiedy usłyszałam, jak z kimś rozmawiasz. Myślałam, że to któryś z uczniów – odparła chłodno. – Powinnaś zamykać drzwi na przyszłość.

Nie zamknęła drzwi? Co gdyby to ktoś inny nakrył ją na tej rozmowie? Czy skończyłoby się na zwykłym upomnieniu? Musiała przyznać, było blisko. Cieszyła się, że wciąż nie odkryła sposobu, by każdy mógł je zobaczyć, bo... pewnie byłoby mniej przyjemnie.

Minerwa obserwowała ją przez chwilę, ale widząc, że Odette nie miała zamiaru nic dodać, sama zaczęła mówić.

– Jest wpół do drugiej, powinnaś już spać, z rana zaczynacie z Poppy dyżur.

Jej poważny ton i wyprostowana sylwetka sprawiały, że nawet Malfoy się wycofała. Do tego ta tradycyjna mina "przeżyłam huncwotów, przeżyję i to" nie dodawała ani grama otuchy temu, do kogo była skierowana. W końcu młodsza się poddała.

– Zapamiętam na przyszłość. Dobranoc, profesor McGonagall – podsumowała krótko.

~*~*~

Kobieta pracowała przy śniadaniu, gdy pierwsze promienie poranka zawitały do kuchni. To nie pierwszy dzień, w którym musiała wstać przed wschodem słońca. Odkąd nie mieli skrzata domowego, ona zajmowała się domem. Coś, czego nigdy nie była uczona. Może raz czy dwa jej matka coś wspominała, ale jej rodzina raczej wychodziła z założenia, że to skrzaty będą za nią polerowały podłogi, czyściły półki, prasowały ubrania czy przyrządzały posiłki. Cóż, tak początkowo to wyglądało.

To nie tak, że wykorzystywała Zgredka. On żył, żeby coś robić, każdy taki, jak on, chciał, aby powierzono mu jakieś zadanie. Początkowo wykonywał je bardzo entuzjastycznie, choć już kiedy poślubiła Lucjusza, zachowywał się nieco inaczej niż reszta skrzatów. Nie darzyła go wielką sympatią, ale nie obrażała go i nie wymierzała kar. Zwłaszcza, że bardzo sumiennie wywiązywał się ze swoich obowiązków. Kiedy zaszła w ciążę, wszystko się zmieniło. Jej mąż denerwował się na Zgredka o każdą najmniejszą głupotę związaną z nią. Nawet jeżeli stworzenie było Bogu ducha winne. Zaczął traktować go jak niewolnika. Próbowała coś zrobić, lecz nic to nie dawało i w końcu się poddała. Taki już jego los. I to trwało aż do wiekopomnego roku 1993, kiedy to Lucjusz wrócił do domu bez skrzata.

Od tamtej pory Narcyza sama musiała się zmagać z pracami domowymi. Kupiła w Esach i Floresach książkę o podstawowych zaklęciach domowych i rzeczywiście je opanowała. Musiała przyznać, było to skrajnie upokarzające dla kogoś jej pochodzenia, ale prędzej czy później ten dzień by nastąpił. W końcu Zgredek przeszedłby w ręce Dracona, kiedy ten założyłby własną rodzinę, Lucjusz by o to zadbał. Cóż, najwyraźniej padło na "prędzej".

Nagle drzwi otworzyły się z impetem i do kuchni wpadła głowa rodu Malfoyów. Jego świeżo umyte włosy lśniły w blasku słońca, a czarne szaty idealnie leżały na jego czterdziesto dwuletnim ciele. Jak ona marzyła, żeby cofnąć się do czasów Hogwartu...

– Widzę, że już wstałaś – stwierdził sucho czarodziej, siadając przy niewielkim stole.

Ale spostrzegawczy.

– Tak, właśnie szykowałam śniadanie – odparła Narcyza, najlżejszym tonem, na jaki umiała się zmusić.

Ta cała akcja z odrodzeniem Czarnego Pana go zmieniła. Kiedyś był inny w stosunku do niej, delikatniejszy. Może nie poślubiła go z miłości, ale był jej najbliższy ze wszystkich kandydatów i pozostawała gotowa na zmiany. W końcu jej rodzina raczej nie zniosłaby widoku własnej córki z uroczą Gryfonką...

Ona i Lucjusz chodzili ze sobą podczas ostatniego roku w Hogwarcie. Wtedy też Blackowie i Malfoyowie potwierdzili zaręczyny swoich dzieci i czekali, aż Narcyza skończy 17 lat, by mogli wziąć ślub. Kobieta wbrew pozorom wcale nie była taka przychylna. Miała ochotę uciec z ukochaną tak samo, jak to zrobili Andromeda z Tedem, ale... widziała, jaki los spotkał jej siostrę po ucieczce. Była szczęśliwa, lecz jakim kosztem? Narcyza stchórzyła. Jej dziewczyna zrozumiała, od zawsze wiedziała, że może nie będzie im dane być razem, a teraz...

Zawsze porównywali ją do jej sióstr. Niegdyś potrafiła być potulna na zewnątrz, jednak buntownicza w środku jak Andromeda, ale po tym incydencie stała się kimś zupełnie innym - potulna na zewnątrz i potulna, choć krwawiąca, w sercu. Do Bellatrix właściwie nigdy nie była podobna. Jej obsesja czarną magią, buntownicza natura, zaniedbanie ze strony rodziców doprowadziły najstarszą z sióstr Black do szaleństwa. I ta przysięga, że już nigdy nie odezwie się do Andromedy... zabolała najbardziej. To był cios poniżej pasa.

Wyrwała się z bolesnych wspomnień. Podała śniadanie do stołu, szybko ustawiła wszystko tak, by łatwiej było to umyć i usiadła na swoim miejscu. Małżeństwo jadło w ciszy. Kiedyś nigdy tego nie robili, zawsze mieli dużo do powiedzenia, ale... czasy się zmieniają, jak widać.

Wtedy do kuchni przez otwarte okno wleciała sowa z listem i podleciała do Narcyzy. Na kopercie widać było jej imię, a także adres Malfoy Manor i...

– Oddaj go – rzucił od razu Lucjusz.

No tak, mogła się spodziewać, że nie przeczyta własnej korespondencji, jeśli jej mąż był w pokoju. Im więcej się zmienia, tym więcej pozostaje bez zmian.

– Proszę – powiedziała z wyrzutem, podając mężczyźnie pocztę.

Ten zmierzył ją uważnym spojrzeniem, przełamał pieczęć, nie spuszczając wzroku z żony, a następnie wyprostował się powoli i spojrzał na nią ostrzegawczo.

– Uważaj na ton i szanuj to, co ci daję, żono. Chyba, że chcesz powtórkę z rozrywki – jego brew uniosła się maniakalnie.

Po plecach czarownicy przeszedł dreszcz. Definitywnie nie miała ochoty na "powtórkę z rozrywki", chyba podziękuje. Co nie zmieniało faktu, że jej korespondencja wciąż była jej do odczytania. Właśnie o tym myślała, mówiąc, że wiele się zmieniło, odkąd Czarny Pan powrócił. Wiele, zwłaszcza w jej mężu.

Lucjusz kilkukrotnie przeskanował wzrokiem list, wrzucił go do pustej miski i wyjął różdżkę. Kobieta wiedziała, co zamierzał zrobić. Prawie zawsze to robił.

Po chwili pergamin stanął w płomieniach.

– Dracon pisze, że Odette zaszczyciła ich swoją obecnością na ślizgońskiej prywatce, otwierającej rok szkolny. Co za błazeństwo – streścił jej wiadomość Dracona czarodziej.

A przynajmniej jej część.

– Nie dałeś mi przeczytać listu od naszego syna? – zapytała, nie dowierzając.

Lucjusz wstał i, idąc szybkim krokiem, znalazł się tuż przed Narcyzą. Blondynka cofnęła się szybko, przywierając do ściany, przy której siedziała. Mężczyzna złapał ją za szczękę, patrząc głęboko w oczy.

– Nie unoś na mnie głosu – wyszeptał niebezpiecznie, po czym sam zaczął krzyczeć. – Poza tym twoje listy to też moje listy, jasne?!

Nie była w stanie odpowiedzieć, dłoń na jej twarzy zacisnęła się jeszcze mocniej, sprawiając ból.

– To nie ty decydujesz, smarkulo. Jestem twoim ojcem, jesteś moją własnością, jasne?!

Oczy jej się przeszkliły, patrzyła z przerażeniem na twarz męża, który po kilku chwilach stracił gniewny błysk z oczu i spojrzał na nią zdezorientowany i nieco przestraszony. Natychmiast puścił żonę i szybko wyszedł z pokoju.

Narcyza nie wiedziała, co ma o tym myśleć. Ile by dała, żeby uciec z Andromedą, kiedy miała okazję.

Im więcej się zmienia, tym więcej pozostaje bez zmian.

Nawet nie zauważyła, kiedy po jej rumianych policzkach zaczęły spływać gorzkie krople.

[paltaxiox]

"who are you?"

[AU Swan Lake]

[sallowsswan]

Slytherin Boys W/ Ballerina!Reader as Pas De Deux 🩰

SO I'm back at it again with more ballet stuff! Last time I did headcanons for Mattheo if he was dating a ballerina. This time however, we're going down the route of what Pas De Deux (pair dance) the boys would do with a ballerina reader if they danced together.

Lorenzo Berkshire

White Swan Pas De Deux (Swan Lake)

Choosing one for our boy Enzo was EXTREMELY difficult because I secretly headcanon him being a danseur already so picking just one dance for him was hard. I went with the famous white swan pas de deux from Swan Lake where he is the role of Prince Siegfried and the reader is Odette. It's a beautiful, and heartbreaking pas de deux where Odette and Siegfried get to know each other better with it ending in Odette putting her trust in Siegfried to make a vow of true love in order to free her from Von Rothbart's spell. (In this video the pas de deux is performed by famous dancers Svetlana Zakharova and Roberto Bolle. The part at 5:09 where he embraces her makes we weeeeeeep)

Theodore Nott

Giselle act 2 Pas De Deux (Giselle)

For Theo's I decided to play a little into the headcanon of him being a casanova and went the route of Giselle. Theo's character would be Albrect (sometimes known as Count Albrect, Duke Albrect, or in other versions Prince Albrect) the reader's character is Giselle, who died of a broken heart when she found out Albrect was bethrothed to another woman. Another beautiful and heartbreaking piece as Giselle is trying to protect Albrect until dawn from the wrath of the willis (spirits of young maidens that died before marriage) who wish to make him dance to his death. The queen of the willis Myrtha uses Giselle to lure Albrect away from the safety of her tombstone by making her dance a seductive pas de deux that lures him in like a siren singing a song. (In this video the pas de deux is danced once again by famous dancers Svetlana and Roberto. They're one of my favorite dance partner pairings!)

Draco Malfoy

Sugarplum and Cavalier (The Nutcracker)

My first fictional love, I had to give Draco one of my favorite pas de deux which is from The Nutcracker between the sugarplum fairy and her cavalier. I don't think I need to explain which roles these two are, it's a beautiful piece with beautiful music performed near the end of the story. (I've inserted my FAVORITE rendition of this dance performed by famous dancers Anna Tsygankova and Matthew Golding)

Mattheo Riddle

Black Swan Pas De Deux (Swan Lake)

When it comes to my headcanons I said that Mattheo liked Don Quixote and Giselle, but this man also in my headcanon has an absolute WEAKNESS for Swan Lake. So when he gets to be the part of Siegfried and the reader is playing Odile? He's absolutely giddy because this pas de deux is alluring and seductive as Odile is playing poor Siegfried like a fiddle making him believe she's actually Odette. (For this video the pas de deux is danced by one of my favorite dancers Gillian Murphy with Angel Corella)

Tom Riddle

Opening Scene (Swan Lake)

I could've easily went full delulu and gave Tommy a pas de deux, but come onnnnn. I'm giving this man the role he was MADE FOR. The opening scene from ABT's Swan Lake. He's the role of the sorcerer Von Rothbart while the reader is Odette. So enchanted by the beautiful princess he runs into in the woods he tries to charm her only to find her displeased and so what does he do? Takes her for his own and changes her into the form of a swan to keep her close to him. (For this video it's from ABT's Swan Lake they recorded back in the early 2000's with Gillian Murphy as Odette, Marcelo Gomes as the handsome human Von Rothbart and Isaac Stappas as Von Rothbart's other form)

Blaise Zabini

Nikiya and Solor act 1 (La Bayadere)

I'm not too familiar with Blaise, so forgive me everyone but I didn't want to leave him out. I chose my favorite pas de deux from La Bayadere where Blaise would be Solor a warrior and the reader is Nikiya a beautiful temple dancer. The two are secret lovers that are reunited and dance together before swearing their love under the sacred flame. (For this one I went with yet again Svetlana and Roberto because they ATEEEEEE this pas de deux up with their chemistry alone!)

[to-fly-with-clipped-wings]

Chapter 1.2 - Train Rides and Talking Hats

Chapter 1.2 - Train Rides and Talking Hats

Pairing: Harry Potter x Chosen One! Reader

‘“Oi,” you spoke, feeling your jaw clench at the blond boy’s demeanour. “I’d watch what I was saying if I was you, especially considering the crap that’s spewing outta your sewage-system of a mouth.” Draco Malfoy turned his sharpened gaze toward you. “And I’d be more careful if I was you. You don’t want to make enemies with the wrong people.” “Same goes for you.”’ OR: in which you hitch a ride on the Hogwarts Express and buckle up for one hell of a ride. → Set in a universe where you are the chosen one, and Harry Potter is your best friend who tries to help you navigate the woes of being the lone hero of the wizarding world. A swap au where you are the chosen one, your parents are dead but the marauders + Lily are not. Eventual Harry x Reader, slowburn, friends to lovers. Series Masterlist

.｡*ﾟ🗲.*.｡  　ﾟ*..🗲｡*ﾟ

Perhaps, if you had any less self-respect, having had a mental breakdown on the King’s Cross platform would have been your morning on the 1st of September.

The train leaves at eleven, Hagrid had told you. The Caddels had dropped you off at the station at half past ten before leaving to drop Odette off at her new school, Smeltings, they’d said. All you were really aware of was the nifty cane that came with the uniform, supposedly used to thwack fellow peers. An excellent training for later life.

Regardless of peculiar apparels or uniforms – you had now acquired a steadily rising fear that you would never be able to wear your own, if you couldn’t uncover where exactly platform nine and three-quarters was located at the station. 

There they were, right in front of you, platforms nine and ten – right there – but nowhere could you spot any semblance or notion of anything three-quarters related. The large plastic number nine leered tauntingly at you, swinging back and forth vaguely with the passing breeze.

You had pestered the guard manning the station. He hadn’t even heard of Hogwarts, and since you had no flying clue where or even what the school was, you couldn’t describe it to him. The guard stared at you incredulously, as though you were deliberately trying to be stupid (you didn’t miss how he eyed Hedwig, your owl, who chirped irritably back at him). It took every ounce of your remaining willpower to not snap or lunge at him and cause a scene in the middle of the station, especially when a congregation of people had formed a circle around you to observe the exchange curiously.

Apparently, according to a variety of people at the station, there wasn’t even a train that left at eleven o’clock. And, though it was obvious, platform nine and three-quarters completely did not exist. Like, at all. And to top the cherry on your fabulous sundae of anxiety and chagrin, according to the large clock situated on the arrivals board, you had a little under fifteen minutes to be seated on the train. 

You wished Hagrid had left you with more information, but when the man had dropped you back at your house and allowed you the time to blink, he had vanished. Urgent magical business, you mused dryly. Almost like the kerfuffle of being stranded on a station with not the foggiest idea of where to go. 

Were you missing something? Did you need to cast a spell? What if you missed the train? Oh, you knew you should have read the books before coming to the station. You swore at that moment to leave no page in your spell-books unturned (in hindsight, you knew you would drop this vow three days in).

Just as you were preparing to brandish your wand at the stray ticket box next to platform nine, trying your very best to formulate a spell that would divulge the presence of platform nine and three-quarters. 

In a perfectly timed turn of events, a group of people passed behind you, and you managed to glean a glimpse of their conversation.

“ – packed with Muggles, of course –

You heard your neck crack from how fast you wheeled around. Muggles. You had never been happier to hear a single word. The speaker was a stout woman, to an audience of about five red-headed children. Four boys and a girl, who from the conversation that ensued, you discovered was too young to attend Hogwarts just yet. 

You trained your eyes on them like a hawk, shadowing ‘Percy’, the oldest boy, as he dashed toward the brick wall of platform nine, pushing his trolley along with him. Wincing, you closed your eyes so you wouldn’t see him and all of his school supplies crash onto the floor. 

Miraculously, however, when you peeled your eyelids back open, the boy was gone. As were the twin brothers, Fred and George (or did their mother say George and Fred?). 

There was only one more boy left; a tall – though that entire family seemed to be on stilts – lanky, deeply freckled one. If you wanted to know where the sons were disappearing to, this was your final shot.

“Hey!” you called out, dragging your trolley behind you as you approached the remaining members of the red-headed family. Then, realising how the abruptness of a random girl yelling at someone may be perceived as abrash, you decided to dial back your advances. “Hi, sorry. Do you happen to know how to –” “How to get on to the platform?” she said kindly. “No worries at all, dear. Is this your first time at Hogwarts? Ron’s new, too.” 

She pointed at her last son. He had dirt on his nose. You nodded your head slightly toward him in greeting, but your mind was still hyper focused on how the clock was dwindling closer and closer to eleven. “Pleasure,” you smiled, desperation beginning to blemish your voice, evident as it began to inch one or two octaves higher. “So, er, I’m hoping that you do know how to get to the train?” “That’s right,” she said. “All you have to do is walk straight at the barrier between platforms nine and ten. Don’t stop and don’t be scared you’ll crash into it, that’s very important. Go on, go now before Ron.”

You ruffled the collar of your shirt, which was looking far too neat and sophisticated (and therefore, not nearly as charming as you preferred it to be). “Thanks, Miss.” 

You sucked in a deep breath before gathering your courage and sprinted toward the very solid, opaque looking barrier of platform nine and three-quarters. 

You were running — running like a lunatic, might you add, when you realised you were almost there — and then, quite suddenly, you weren’t. 

Rather, you now found yourself underneath a sign that read Hogwarts Express, 11 o’clock.

Permeating through a brick wall was yet another box to check from your list of magical experiences. Twice, actually, if you counted the entrance to Diagon Alley. Odd was it indeed, but it was your odd now, and you lest would allow anyone try and rob you of it. 

You stood in awe, head on a swivel as you examined the new environment. A mammoth of a train, one whose size could only be attributed to the slight of one’s magical hand, with smoke seeping out of its charcoal chimneys, stood tall against the crowded stage of the station. 

You turned around to see if the red-headed family had made it through as well, and sure enough, there they were. The woman was still looking at you, and when you waved at her, her face split into a soft smile as she returned the gesture. You swept your dishevelled hair to the side – it had tousled itself into a heaping mess sometime during your episode on the other side of the train station. 

You only registered the consequence of this action when the red-headed woman’s eyes widened, and as an abrupt muteness circulated throughout the platform, capitulating the vocal cords of what seemed to be every single man, woman and/or child present there at that very moment. 

Families that were once bidding their children goodbye, lovingly caressing cheeks or smoothing down fly-away hairs, or families who were once loading trunks onto compartments, were now reacting in an identical fashion of the same scene that had transpired at the leaky pub; normal chatter was extinguished, and murmurs crept around the platform like an amateur thief in a treasure trove.

“The lightning scar!”

“Is that – oh, my sweet Merlin, it is!” “Oh – where –?!”

“Move! Let me get a glimpse!”

“Look, over there!”

“(Y/n) (L/n)!”

You stiffened under everyone’s combined gazes, the hasty switch of focus to you catching you off guard. But, as quickly as the alarm had rippled into your body, it had dispersed out. 

A smirk split your face, and you nodded toward the woman closest to you (who promptly went pink and near-fainted) as a way to acknowledge that you acknowledged their sudden interest in you. You heard someone chuckle at the sight, and a few more flurries of whispers were burgeoned from other by-standers.

During the time it took for you to jostle your trolley into an empty carriage near the back of the train, the number of people actively tracking your every move had died down, though only by a fraction. From the corners of your eyes, you could still see the odd third-year trying to estimate how many laces you had on your shoes, no doubt so he could pester his parents into buying the same pair. (You kept to yourself that they had previously belonged to Odette, however, as you seriously doubted anyone wanted to know that (Y/n) (L/n), hero of the wizarding world, still wore hand-me-downs.)

Unfortunately, it seemed that although you possessed the power to terminate the reign of the darkest and most powerful wizards in history, you had apparently not attained the muscles required to heave your trunk up the stairs onto the Hogwarts Express. You stumbled back, cursing as you reeled from the pain that rocketed through your foot after you dropped your trunk on your toes.

“Want a hand?” 

You looked up. It was one of the red-headed twins, from that family you had met before.

“Yes,” you said almost immediately. “Er, please.”

“Oy, Fred! C’mere and help!”

The three of you managed to successfully store your trunk into the corner of your compartment. Before you could thank the twins for their help, though, one of the twins pointed at the spot on your forehead where the thin lightning-shaped scar donned your skin. 

“You’re (Y/n) (L/n),” he announced. Just like Olivander, this had not been a question, but rather a statement.

“Yes,” you straightened your posture, raising your head a little higher. “That’s right. I am.”

The two boys gawked at you, and you subtly swept your sweaty hair to expose the scar even further. To your slightest dismay, however, the familiar voice of the red-headed mother drifted through the carriage before you were able to elaborate further on your tale of the lightning-shaped battle scar.

“Fred? George? Are you there?” Both the twins groaned at their mother’s summoning. Sparing one last glance at you, they ambled toward her call. “Coming, Mum.” You waved the twins goodbye. Sitting down by the window, you ducked your head so you could listen to the family, who were still on the platform, whilst being half-hidden at the same time. Their mother had scourged out a handkerchief and was furiously scrubbing at Ron’s nose to rid the smudge of dirt that laid upon it.

You watched with amusement as Ron tried to lurch away before being caught in his mother’s iron-fisted clutches once again.

“Mum – geroff!”

One of the twins snickered, leaning close to Ron. “Aaaah, has ickle Ronnie got somefink on his nosie?” 

“Shut up!” You saw the oldest of the red-headed siblings saunter towards his family, already draped in his robes. A shiny red and gold badge was pinned onto his chest, with the letter P engraved onto it.

“Can’t stay long, Mother,” he said stiffly. “I’m up front, the Prefects have got two compartments to themselves –”

“Oh, are you a Prefect, Percy?” One of the twins gasped, bringing his hands to his face in disbelief. “You should have said something, we had no idea.” “Hang on, I think I remember him saying something about it, once –”

“Or twice –”

“A minute –”

“All summer –”

You huffed a laugh at the back and forth going between the family. Percy the Prefect’s face was starting to sport a lovely bright, irritable shade of red. 

“How come Percy gets new robes, anyway?” queried one of the twins.

“Because he’s a Prefect,” their mother smoothed Percy’s already-perfectly-smoothened hair fondly. “All right, dear, well have a good term – send me an owl when you get there.” 

She sent him off with a kiss. 

You sunk back into your seat. For some reason, the jovial atmosphere you’d felt upon discovering the magical platform had now become strangely dampened. 

Call it a moment of weakness, sure – but in that moment, you wished that you could have a mother. A mother who would dote on you like that or who would comfort you. 

But, as soon as that looming train of thoughts had festered, you vanquished them from your mind – the other kids could keep their affectionate mothers who waved them goodbye as they left, the same, in fact, would go for their superficial, gentle-natured fathers; you had your fame and that topped any shred of whatever they may have had, whatever you were missing!

As though the red-head family were suddenly attuned with your train of thought, you heard the voice of the youngest child, the girl, pipe up. “Oh! (Y/n) (L/n) On the train? Please can I go see her, Mum, please, please, please…”

“You’ve already seen her, Ginny, and the poor girl isn’t something you goggle at in a zoo. Is she really, Fred? How do you know?” “Asked her. Saw the scar. It’s really there – like lightning.”

“Poor dear.” 

Your fingers traced the pattern of the scar, not particularly liking the feeling of pity emanating from the family.

“No wonder she was alone. I wondered. She was ever enthusiastic, though, when she asked how to get on to the platform. I’d have thought she’d be scared, by herself…”

“Never mind that, do you think she remembers what You-Know-Who looks like?”

The red-headed mother swelled. “I forbid you to ask her that, Fred! No, don’t you dare. As though she needs reminding of –... ”

The disarrayed ruckus of another family hurriedly barrelling onto the platform, and ushering their boy onto the train, stripped your focus from the ginger group. 

Observing the mop of black hair, you realised pleasantly that it was the boy you had met at the Quidditch store that day in Diagon Alley. Closely behind him, a stressed looking woman with copper-coloured hair, followed him briskly onto the train. Your lips twitched as you noticed that she possessed the same brilliant green eyes as her son. 

The father, a carbon copy of his son, followed seconds after, carrying a tremendously large trunk onto the train. There was one more man – perhaps one of the uncles the boy had mentioned – who remained on the platform. You guessed that he was allowing the family their final moments together. He didn’t really look alike to the mother or father of Quidditch Boy’s family, so you presumed that he was probably an uncle by choice, not blood. He had sandy brown hair with substantially sized scars running down the entirety of his face and neck. There was a large, shaggy black dog beside him too, and you swore that it had winked when it saw you looking at the group.

A shrill burst of steam raged outwards from the chimney of the train. You guessed that this was a warning to families that the train was about to depart right now. True to your word, just as Quidditch Boy’s mother and father practically leapt off the train carriage they’d left their son in, the train doors slammed shut, and the vehicle began dutifully chugging forward. 

Left behind now, was the platform of nine and three-quarters.

Leaning back in your seat, you exhaled roughly. This was it, the moment that marked the beginning of your journey into Hogwarts. You had no clue where you were going, but you just knew it would be good. A grand moment, you were sure, but what you were also sure of was that the next few hours on the train (or possibly days or months, who knew?) would result in you being bored out of your mind. Stuck in an empty carriage by yourself with no one to talk to – tragic – maybe it would do you some good if you popped down into one of the other carriages and try to find some other first-years.

Coincidentally, the door of the compartment was opened by none other than Quidditch Boy himself. His hair was askew, glasses lopsided and cheeks clearly flushed from the rush of trying to scramble onto the Hogwarts Express before it departed. He did not have his trunk with him, which meant that his father was able to stash it onto the train it in time.

“Hey, again,” he flashed you a bashful smile. “Would it be alright if I could sit here?”

“Sure. No problem.” 

You observed him as he took the seat opposite you. He was already wearing robes of sorts, not the Hogwarts ones, judging from the lack of school emblem, but the sorts that you hypothesised would be the wizarding equivalent to a t-shirt and a pair of jeans.

“Er,” he started, causing you to look over at him. “It’s nice to see you. Again.” “Yeah.” you agreed with him, offering a lopsided smile. “Great. To meet you.” 

“Yep.”

The compartment fell into a highly awkward silence, one that you were not at all familiar with. Back with the Caddels, or even at your previous school, you had no problem whatsoever making friends with strangers. In fact, conversation came easily to you – you weren’t the most popular girl in the grade for no reason, after all. So the stuffiness invading the atmosphere was most definitely unwelcome, and honestly, unnatural.

Thankfully the awkward cloud hanging above you and Quidditch Boy dissipated abruptly when the compartment door slid open again, revealing the tall, freckled, ginger boy. The other first-year you’d spoken to: Ron.

His eyes widened when he saw you sitting in front of him. “Uh – sorry, anyone else sitting here? Everywhere else is full.”

Quidditch Boy shook his head and Ron took the seat beside them, so they were both facing you. Ron’s gaze hadn’t settled and he kept on glancing toward you and then toward the window whenever he made eye contact with you. It was amusing, his discomfort, from how often he did it.

“Hey, Ron.” The red-headed twins popped into the compartment suddenly. “Listen, we’re going back down the middle of the train – Lee Jordan’s got a giant tarantula down there.”

“Right,” said the youngest sibling.

So we’re not going to question the spider. Seems good.

“(Y/n),” the other twin, the one who hadn’t been talking to Ron, turned to you. “And other Kid,” referring to Quidditch Boy, “did we introduce ourselves? Fred and George Weasley. And this is Ron, our brother. Anyways, see you later, then.” The three of you said bye in unison as the twins left.

As soon as they were gone, Ron blurted out, “Can we see the scar?” You blinked at him, and he went pink. Though, you complied either way (as you had no qualms to showing off the lightning-shaped bolt). Pulling your hair back, the scar on your forehead was revealed to Quidditch Boy and Ron.

“Wow,” breathed out Quidditch Boy. “It really does look like lightning.”

Ron was equally stunned. “So that’s where You-Know-Who – ?”

“Yes.” You grinned brightly at their awed expressions. They stared at you a couple seconds longer before Ron diverted his attention quickly back to the greenery flitting through the window.

“So, is your whole family magic then?” you asked Ron out of curiosity. 

You already knew that Quidditch Boy’s father was a pure-blood and his mother was a muggle-born, whatever that meant; you weren’t going to be the one to say you had no idea what those were.

“Quidditch Boy?” puzzled Quidditch Boy, eyebrows furrowing. 

Ah, had you said that outloud? Whoops.

You laughed, bringing a hand to your nape. “Sorry, I don’t know your name, so I’ve just, kinda, resorted to calling you Quidditch Boy in my mind.”

“Oh, well, I’m, uh, Harry. Harry Potter.” said the boy, smiling at you once more. 

You slouched further into your seat. “Nice to meet ya then, Harry Potter.”

Ron interjected into the conversation, for which you were grateful. The ginger boy seemed to hold the power of evaporating awkwardness with a snap of his freckled fingers. “Pure-blooded means that everyone on his father’s side is magic. I’m the same – everyone in my family is a wizard, well maybe except for my mum’s second cousin who’s an accountant, but we don’t really talk about him.”

“I get it,” you said, cupping your chin with your hand. “I’ve got no clue what I am. But I know that my father had no magic.”

“A muggle,” Ron nodded appreciatively. “Well, basically everyone knows that your mother was a pure-blood, though. That makes you a half-blood like him, since you’re a mix I guess.” He pointed at Harry. You were slightly startled that he knew more about your family and lineage than you did yourself. Maybe you should get used to people knowing more about you than you did yourself.

“A muggle-born’s a witch or wizard who was born from muggle parents,” continued Ron.

You tilted your head to the side. “Where does their magic come from, if they’ve got no magical blood or whatever?”

Ron looked partially affronted. “Who knows, – magic isn’t exactly something that comes in a nice little package that gets delivered to you when the time is right! All I know is that if you’ve got magic, then you’ve got it. That’s all there is to it, really.” He waved his hands about in the air for further emphasis. This was probably a topic Ron was passionate about, as you noticed his ears flushing red under the combined blank stares of you and Harry. You ponderedthat if Ron were to ever wear something salmon-coloured, it would definitely wash him out. You wouldn’t be able to tell the difference between his face and his left knee.

You tried to recover from the painful silence. “Thanks, that clears it up. You two must know loads of magic then.” 

“Not nearly enough as my mum wants me to,” said Harry.

“Hear, hear,” mumbled Ron.

“Huh. Guess that’s one good thing that comes out of being an orphan. No pushy mother for me!” You chuckled at the uncomfortable looks on the boys’ faces. 

“I heard you went to live with Muggles,” said Ron, scratching the back of his neck. “What’re they like?” “Alright,” you shrugged. “Not outstandingly nice or anything, but they do their job. Would be cooler to have wizarding brothers like you though.”

“Not if you’ve got five of them.” answered Ron gloomily. “I’m the sixth in our family to go to Hogwarts. You could say I’ve got a lot to live up to. Bill and Charlie have already left – Bill was Head Boy and Charlie was captain of Quidditch. Now Percy’s a Prefect. Fred and George mess around a lot, but they still get really good marks and everyone thinks they’re really funny. Everyone expects me to do as well as the others, but if I do, it’s no big deal, because they did it first. You never get anything new, either, with five brothers. I’ve got Bill’s old robes and Charlie’s old wand. I wanted an owl, but they couldn't aff – I mean, they got Percy one instead for becoming a Prefect.”

Ron’s ears went pink again. Your brain, it seemed, was temporarily delayed and was not able to formulate a response to that.

“I’m sure you’ll do better than all your brothers combined,” said Harry. 

Ron smiled gratefully at him. 

As the train rolled onward and your surroundings grew greener, you, quite helpfully, took Hedwig’s cage and placed her on the centre of the table, announcing that the first one to get nipped whilst feeding her treats would be declared the ultimate ‘Loser Lord and/or Lordess.’ Hedwig loved you, so obviously she went ham whenever the two boys got close to her in order to secure your victory.

The three of you fell into an easy conversation after that, and you barely even realised how much time had passed until a smiling, old-looking woman popped her head into the compartment and said “anything off the trolley, dears?”

With that lovely gesture, you had leapt out of your seat and essentially pounced onto the food she was offering. Your pockets were lined with wizard money now, an infinite stash really, and so there was nothing stopping you from buying multiples of everything she had. As such, you, Harry and Ron had to literally struggle and drag back the food you’d hoarded, before dumping it on the table.

“Hungry, are you?” said Ron, raising his eyebrows at the pile of snacks that was nearly as tall as him.

“Starving,” you grinned back.

You, Harry and Ron tore into the pasties and cakes, the mountain rapidly diminishing by the second. There was one incident with a chocolate frog creeping into Hedwig’s cage before getting mauled by her talons. The card that supposedly came with the treat, had also been destroyed, so Harry had given his to you. One with a moving picture of Albus Dumbledore, who had waved politely at your stunned expression.

Once you’d moved onto Bertie Bott’s Every-Flavour Beans, you found a lot of enjoyment when Ron had the misfortune of coming across a bean that tasted like dirty socks. Though, your amusement at Ron’s plight had been adjourned with the appearance of a round-faced boy.

“Sorry,” he said, “but have you seen a toad at all?”

“No, sorry.”

You were taken aback when the boy promptly burst into tears. “I’ve lost him! He keeps getting away from me!” “He’ll turn up,” said Harry.

“Yes,” said the boy, turning away dejectedly. “Well, if you see him…”

“Don’t know why he’s so bothered,” remarked Ron once the boy had left. “If I’d brought a toad I’d lose it as quick as I could.”

You deadpanned at him. “You haven’t even got any pets to lose, Ron. I’m betting that if you ever got one, you’d have even worse attachment issues than Toad-Boy.” “Mind you,” said Harry, talking around his mouthful of Cauldron Cake. “That’s saying a lot.”

“What’ve you got then?” asked Ron, turning his head to glare at Harry. “You seem awfully high and mighty for someone who probably doesn’t even have anything at all.”

“I’ve got a dog,” defended Harry. “Snuffles.” You stifled a giggle. “Snuffles? No way you named your dog that!” “I didn’t pick the name!”

“A dog’s not as good as an owl anyways,” you teased.

“I’d beg to differ – my dog totally is,” Harry grumbled, crossing his arms. “Plus you don’t even need to have an owl – the school’s got its own aviary shock-full of ‘em that you can send letters with.”

“One day, I’m gonna get an owl.” Ron sighed dreamily. “Just for myself, I wouldn’t have to share with Fred or George or Percy or Ginny.”

“Who’s Ginny?”

Before Ron could express the identity of this ‘Ginny’, the compartment door was opened by a bushy-haired girl whose face was wrinkled up irritably. Toad-Boy also made a reappearance.

“Has anyone seen a toad? Neville’s lost one.” 

“We’ve already told him we haven’t seen it,” said Ron, but the girl wasn’t listening. Rather, she had been staring at you. 

“You’re (Y/n) (L/n).” she declared matter-of-factly. “I saw you at the station. I know all about you, of course – I got a few extra books for background reading, and you’re in Modern Magical History and The Rise and Fall of the Dark Arts and Great Wizarding Events of the Twentieth Century.”

Ron gaped at her and Harry blinked a few times repeatedly.

“Be surprised if I wasn’t,” you said, winking cheekily. You also had no idea what she was talking about though.

She studied you appraisingly before asking Ron and Harry “and who are you?”

“Ron Weasley.”

“Harry Potter.”

“Pleasure. Well, I’m Hermione Granger. I was ever so pleased when I got my letter to Hogwarts, of course, I mean, it's the very best school of witchcraft there is, I’ve heard – I’ve learnt all of our set books by heart, of course, I just hope it will be enough.”

All three pairs of eyebrows furrowed in synchronisation. You, personally, had only caught about one-third of what she had been saying since she’d been basically rapping out her words. 

Herminkoni (was that what she said her name was?) began talking again. “Do either of you know what house you’ll be in? I’ve been asking around and I hope I’m in Gryffindor, it sounds the best by far, I hear Dumbledore himself was one, but I suppose Ravenclaw wouldn’t be too bad. Anyay, we’d better go and look for Neville’s toad. You three had better change, you know, I expect we’ll be there soon.”

Herpes Motion thus turned around and left, taking Toad-Boy with her.

“Well,” you announced cheerfully. “She was nice.” “Sure,” muttered Ron, reaching for a Treacle Tart. 

“She was right about one thing though,” said Harry, grinning and brushing his hair out of his face. “Gryffindor, by far, is definitely the best house.”

“Who’s Gryffindor?” you squinted your eyes at him. Ron attempted an exasperated face-palm with his left hand (he was still holding the tart in his right). Harry laughed at this, before proceeding to explain the four houses to you.

Gryffindor had been the house Ron’s and Harry’s families had gotten into. The house of the brave, it was known for. Ravenclaw, the house for smart people (you had a feeling you would not be getting into that); Hufflepuff was the house for the loyal and well-meaning. And finally, there was Slytherin. Both Ron and Harry detested the green-and-silver clad house, for it had been the house to pump out the most dark witches and wizards.

“Ah,” you said. “So naturally, we should hate that house, since that was the one Voldemort was – ” “Woah,” interrupted Ron, looking impressed. “You just said his name.” “Why wouldn’t I? It’s just a name. Anyways, I’m guessing that you both want Gryffindor then?”

“Of course!” Ron puffed out his chest. 

“Hey,” Harry began, rubbing your chin. “Have you — ”

Unfortunately, whatever Harry had wanted to ask had been interrupted by the compartment door sliding open again. 

This time, it was a group of three – the ringleader being a sallow-faced, gauntly blonde boy. The other two were giant-sized, goliath looking boys who looked like his bodyguards. And, of course, they were all fixated on you. (But then again, why wouldn’t they be?)

“Is it true?” he said. “They’re saying all down the train that (Y/n) (L/N)’s in this compartment. So, it’s you, is it?”

“That’s right,” you smiled at him.

His lips twitched into a small smirk. He waved his hand carelessly at the two body-doubles next to him. “This is Crabbe and that’s Goyle. And my name’s Malfoy, Draco Malfoy.”

Ron choked on his treacle tart, but you suspected that may have been him trying to disguise a sneer. Draco Malfoy narrowed his eyes on Ron.

“Think my name’s funny, do you?” he sneered, causing your hackles to raise immediately. “No need to ask who you are. My father told me all the Weasleys have red hair, freckles, and more children than they can afford.” 

Ron’s face went pink again and he sunk into his seat. 

Draco Malfoy raised an eyebrow at Harry, but before he could say something about his family, you cut him off.

“Oi,” you spoke, feeling your jaw clench at the blond boy’s demeanour. “I’d watch what I was saying if I was you, especially considering the crap that’s spewing outta your sewage-system of a mouth.”

Draco Malfoy turned his sharpened gaze toward you. “And I’d be more careful if I was you. You don’t want to make enemies with the wrong people.”

“Same goes for you.” 

You stared down Draco Malfoy. Harry was glancing back and forth between the two of you, and he looked ready to stand up if this altercation escalated.

“You don’t get to come in here and poke fun at us,” you muttered slowly. “Especially, if you want to be on good terms with me.”

His cheeks tinged a faint pink. “Not like I would want to be friends with the likes of you.” He placed the emphasis on ‘you’ the same way you did for ‘me’.

You, Harry and Ron all stood up. 

“I think it’d be best if you left.” you gritted out, disliking the boy less and less by every twitch of his rat-like face.

Unfortunately for you, Malfoy’s rattish face had broken out into a sneer. “You’ll regret making enemies out of me, (L/n). I promise you that much.”

He furiously spun around and out of the carriage, but not before he could shoot you a final scathing look. Crabbe and Goyle chased after him, robes billowing out from behind them.

“What a buffoon,” you huffed angrily.

“Agreed,” said Harry, still glaring at the door.

“I’ve heard of his family before,” said Ron darkly. “They were some of the first to come back to our side after You-Know-Who disappeared. Said they'd been bewitched. My dad doesn’t believe it. He says Malfoy’s father didn’t need an excuse to go over to the Dark Side.” “‘Specially if they thought it was the winning side,” added Harry.

The door opened before you could open your mouth. There was Hermit Yeti, yet again, standing at the entrance.

“What has been going on? Why did I just see three boys bolting out of this compartment?” She looked you up and down. “You haven’t been fighting, have you? You’ll be in trouble before we even get there!”

“They were the ones starting it – not us!” defended Ron, scowling at her.

“All right – I only came in here because people outside are behaving very childishly, racing up and down the corridors,” she said sniffly. “And you’ve got dirt on your nose, by the way, did you know that?”

“Thank you,” you interjected, glaring at her on behalf of Ron. “Could you leave now?”

And finally, Herm-onion left.

If you had to guess, it had been only an hour after that when the train had pulled to a stop. You had slipped on your robes, ensuring that they still had your signature wind-swept appearance about them. Ron and Harry were also wearing their school robes now too. The three of you stuffed your pockets with the remaining sweets before you left the train.

Hopping out of the train and onto the station, you were delighted to be met with the familiar, wild face of Hagrid, the giant-man. 

“Firs’-years! Firs-years over here! All right there, (Y/n)?” He beamed at you from under his scraggly beard.

You waved enthusiastically at him. 

The first-years, it looked like, had their own means of reaching the school, which involved travelling in groups of four in a little boat across a lake. You, Harry, Ron and the bushy-haired girl (to your displeasure) took a boat close to the front.

Whilst you did not dislike the girl, you weren’t fond of her tendency to huff or be bossy, especially when she did it toward Ron (which you found she did often). Harry hadn’t done anything to get into her wrong books, and nor vice versa, so they were probably on the most amicable terms between your little trio.

The boats glided in unison across the great body of water, before coming to a stop at the front of the school’s castle. You could hardly hear Toad-Boy’s reunion with his toad (“Trevor”) amongst the excited buzzing in your ears.

The gaggle of first-years came to a stop at the entrance of Hogwarts, a ginormous wooden castle door. Hagrid raised his fist and rapped three times on it. 

The door opened immediately. There was a stern, grey-haired witch standing behind it. She was sifting through the crowd intensely, and her gaze did not linger on your scar like how most peoples’ did.

“The firs’-years, Professor McGonagall,” said Hagrid.

“Thank you, Hagrid. I will take them from here.” The door was opened further and you streamed into the Entrance Hall. The entire school was huge, you realised, and was very elaborately decorated – like something you would read in a book. Flaming torches illuminated the corridor. The first-years were pulled into a little room, next to a place where you could hear the rest of the school talking.

It was then you noticed that Ron appeared quite pale under his freckles and that Harry was fiddling with his fingers. In fact, every first-year seemed to be exhibiting some sort of nervous tick, apart from Malfoy, who was rolling his eyes for some reason. 

You drew your eyebrows together in confusion. Should you have been scared too? It wasn’t like they were going to force you to fight each other or anything right? At least, that’s what you hoped. Although, you definitely knew that if they made you fight, you’d win.

“Welcome to Hogwarts,” said Professor McGonagall. “The start-of-term banquet will begin shortly, but before you take your seats in the Great Hall, you will be sorted into your houses. The Sorting is a very important ceremony because while you are here, your house will be something like your family within Hogwarts. You will have classes with the rest of your house, sleep in your house dormitory and speed free time in your house common room.

She continued giving a debrief of the houses, but as it was something you had already heard from Harry and Ron, it wasn’t anything new. You fidgeted restlessly, wanting to get onto the Sorting already.

“The Sorting Ceremony will take place in a few minutes in front of the rest of the school. I suggest you all smarten yourselves up as much as you can while you are waiting.” Her eyes lingered on your messy hair and ruffled collar, as one lapel stuck upwards. 

Once she left, you turned to Harry and Ron. “What do they do to get us into these houses? Is it like a test? Based on how you answer, that’s where you get in? Like, ‘what is the square root of sixteen?’”

“That’s probably only good for finding Ravenclaws and non-Ravenclaws though,” said Ron, taking you seriously. “My brothers said it was a test too, though. Fred said it hurts a lot, but I think he was joking.”

Harry was looking more unsettled by the minute. 

“Hey,” you said, patting his shoulder, mistaking his expression as anxiousness. “Don’t be nervous. I’m sure Ron’s brothers are just messing with us.” “Me too,” confirmed Ron.

“But,” Harry’s green eyes met yours. “A test? I didn’t know we had to do a test. In front of the whole school? I can barely do two spells, how will they sort me with that? I— I didn’t think — I mean, my dad said— I thought it had something to do with a ha –”

“Listen,” you began, patting his shoulder. “That’s already two more spells than I know, and probably most of the first-years too. That Malfoy kid included.” 

You narrowed your eyes at the said blonde boy, before returning them to Harry. “Don’t worry, alright? Test or not, I’m sure we'll all do great. Probably.” 

Beside you, Ron nodded in agreement (although it looked like his skin was also beginning to reach a sickly pale green colour).

“You’re right,” said Harry, and you were pleased to see that he was a fraction less scared than he was a moment ago. Although he did still look a tad bit confused.

Anyways, moving onto more pressing matters. You didn’t bother with ‘smartening yourself up.’ You were already pretty smart enough, in your opinion. Having bested the darkest wizard of the age at a meagre one year of age didn’t come to just anyone, you know?

After a whole debacle with some ghosts or something flying in to greet you before the ceremony, Professor McGonagall entered the room once more. You all trudged in a single-file line into the Great Hall.

You gaped openly at the Great Hall, which looked even bigger than the Entrance. Four long tables were lain across the room, with golden plates and goblets sitting on each. The students were segregated by houses, indicated by the colour of their robes and ties. There were also several candles floating in the air, which was pretty sweet too. Oh, and the roof looked like the sky as well. 

Professor McGongagall placed a three-legged stool in front of school, and then she placed a rusty-looking hat on top of it. You deadpanned when it broke into song, and even more when everyone burst into applause once it finished.

“So, we’ve just got to try on the hat!” Ron whisper-yelled to you and Harry. “I’ll kill Fred, he was going on about wrestling a troll!” Harry gave him an unsure smile, and said “I tried telling you it was just a weird hat. You threw me off with the test talk.”

Professor McGonagall approached the stool, unravelling a long roll of parchment paper. “When I call your name, you will put on the hat and sit on the stool to be sorted,” she said. “Abbott, Hannah!”

Hannah stumbled from the crowd of first-years and toward the professor. She placed the hat on her head and after a moment of silence, the hat shouted out “HUFFLEPUFF!”

The table on the right, with the yellow-and-black clad students, the house of Hufflepuff, cheered and hollered as Hannah went to join them.

‘Bones, Susan’ went up next and she too went to Hufflepuff. ‘Boot, Terry’ went to Ravenclaw, and ‘Brown Lavender’ became the first new Gryffindor. The cheering from the red table was definitely the loudest, especially when right after ‘Bulstrode Millicent’ was sorted in Slytherin and all she got was only a polite and semi-subdued applause from her new house.

A few more people went, and then, so did ‘Granger, Hermione’ (so that was her name) who sat on the stool for a precariously long period of time before being sent to Gryffindor. Ron groaned. Toad-Boy (Longbottom, Neville!) got Gryffindor too, but somehow, he was on the stool for even longer than Hermione.

You were raising your hand to scratch at the itch in your ear when your name was called. 

As you stepped forward, the students in the Hall started to whisper loudly, just as they had done at the station.

“(L/n), did she say?” “The (Y/n) (L/n)?” Those comments did not help the rising ego blooming inside of you. You swaggered over the stool and sat down. Your fingers delicately gripped the brim of the hat. The fabric felt ragged and old underneath your fingertips. You brought the Sorting Hat down toward your –

“GRYFFINDOR!”

The hat had barely scraped the fly-away hairs on your head when it shrieked out. 

The Great Hall was silent for a few, stunned moments, taken aback by your instantaneous sorting. You stared back at them with wide eyes, darting downwards to look at Harry and Ron. They were wide-eyed too, before the dam of silence was broken, and they beamed gigantic smiles at you, alongside the entirety of the Gryffindor table erupting into cheers – louder cheers than for any of the people before you. 

You felt a warm glow in your chest. You looked around the table, and saw many friendly faces. Percy the Prefect had dived over the table (almost) to shake your hand vigorously and you could hear the Weasley twins jeering “we got (L/n)! We got (L/n)!” Even the resident Gryffindor ghost, Nearly Headless Nick, was congratulating you for your placement by patting your arm, which felt oddly like you were being doused in a bucket of cold water.

At the High Table, Hagrid was grinning and gave you the thumbs up of approval. Dumbledore, as you recognised him from the chocolate frog card, was up there too with a faint twinkle in his eye.

The only notable people left up, really, were Harry and Ron. 

Harry had been called first.

The Sorting Hat was sat upon his head for what seemed to be the better portion of an eternity. For the first time since your arrival, you felt a jolt of fear. What if you and your friends would be separated into different houses? You didn’t to be stuck in a full with only Neville and Hermione, everyday. What would happen if you woke up to find Neville’s slimy toad on your pillowcase or —

You felt a surge of joy and relief, as after a minute or two, the hat declared “GRYFFINDOR!” and the Great Hall erupted in cheers for Harry. You clapped your hands and smiled widely, looking for him among the sea of red and gold.

He took a seat beside you and you high-fived him.

“Nice to see you here, Potter, Harry,” you said, changing your voice to mimic McGonagall’s.

“Nice to see you too, the (Y/n) (L/n),” he snickered, mocking the way the students had reacted when they’d heard your name.

You grinned at him.

Ron joined you rather quickly, even though he was one of the last people to get sorted. You were delighted at this, as it meant you could still be with them for the rest of your Hogwarts years, if what Professor McGonagall had said about your house being akin to family, was true.

Dumbledore rose to his feet, “Welcome! Welcome to a new year at Hogwarts! Before we begin our banquet, I would like to say a few words. And here they are: Nitwit! Blubber! Oddment! Tweak! Thank you!” He sat down, and as he did, food magically appeared in front of you.

“Is he – a bit mad?” Harry asked you uncertainly.

“Probably,” you said, shrugging, reaching for the roast potatoes.

You scarfed down your food, listening to the conservation around you. You cheered when the dessert had come, causing the people around you to chuckle, quietly – except for Ron, who had gotten to the apple pie before you could.

You wrestled Ron for a slice of said pie, and were happily munching on it when you glanced back up to the High Table. Hagrid was drinking from his goblet, and Professors McGonagall and Dumbledore were in a deep discussion with each other. Another Professor, in a purple turban, was fiddling nervously with his cutlery, tapping his fork against the edge of the table. He was speaking with a professor with greasy black hair, a hooked nose and sallow skin.

The teacher, as though he could sense your presence, glanced straight past the Turban-Professor and bore his black eyes into yours – a sharp, hot pain seared within your scar, and you let out a hiss of pain.

“What’s wrong?” Harry asked you, foreheading furrowing in concern.

“N-nothing.” The pain had left as quickly as it had come. How strange. You got the feeling that the hooked-nose teacher did not like you very much.

“Who's that teacher, the greasy-haired one?” you pointed at him, not discretely.

Harry stifled a laugh. “That’s Snape. No one likes him, they say he wants to be the Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor, but every year he gets stuck as the Potions one instead. My dad doesn’t like him at all – actually, my entire family doesn’t really either.”

“Why’s that?” you questioned.

“Not sure,” said Harry, but he scratched his cheek nervously. “They won’t tell me.”

Deciding not to press him further, you continued to watch Snape a little longer. He never looked at you again, though, after that.

Once the desserts had all faded away, Dumbledore had announced his final speech and conducted a very tragic school school orchestra. He wiped his eyes, from pain or sadness or you guessed maybe even both, when they had finished. “Ah, music. A magic beyond all we do here! And now, bedtime. Off you trot!”

Powering your legs through the sheer force of the food you’d guzzled down, you followed Percy up to the Gryffindor Tower. With horror, you realised that you’d have to climb an average of seven staircases everyday, simply just to get to your bed. 

Anyways, the entrance to the Gryffindor headquarters was through a painting of a Fat Lady and she flipped open when you told her the password, Caput Draconis. You scrambled through the portrait hole and into the Gryffindor common room. 

You lazily trudged up the stairs, and without even bothering to notice that your trunk had been transported up to your dorm room, you face-planted onto your bed and fell into a heavy sleep.

Perhaps you had eaten a bit too much, because that night, you had a very strange dream. 

You were staring into a mirror, desperately trying to tug off a purple turban from your head. When did you get a turban? How did you get a turban? The fabric of the turban grew tighter, making you feel a sharp pain in your skull as the turban squeezed your head like a vice. You wondered how you got into this mess in the first place.

Furiously pulling, pulling, at the turban finally caused it to unravel and expose your hair. With a start, as you glanced back to the mirror, you discerned that your face had, horrifyingly enough, taken on the face of Snape. His own black, empty eyes stared back at you. 

You scrambled back, leaping away from his cockroach-like eyes, only to find that, for some reason, there was a bottomless abyss behind you. You fell down, down, down into a pit. Closing your eyes as your head thrummed painfully, you braced yourself for the impact. 

A bright flash of green light, and a high, cruel laugh jerked you awake. 

Oddly enough, however, when you’d gone back to sleep, you hadn’t remembered the dream at all. You did question, however, the next morning why when you closed your eyes, all you saw was a luminous, green light in the shape of a lightning-bolt scar.

.｡*ﾟ🗲.*.｡  　ﾟ*..🗲｡*ﾟ

→ Author's Note: Hello my lovelies, welcome to ch 1.2 yippee!! Sorry that its super long but we’re pretty already halfway through the ch 1 portion of the series XD — I’m guessing now that it's gonna reach about 1.4 or 1.5 but I could also be widely incorrect :P Anyways that’s all so catch ya next time :))) thank you

Time for this chapters analysis ~ You will have probs noticed one of the most canon-divergent parts of this series so far is that instead of the same dilemma Harry faced when he was getting sorted (Slytherin vs Gryffindor), as soon as the hat touched the little hairs upon your head, you were sorted into Gryffindor. During this chapter, and a little of the last one (but mostly this one), I've kinda been subtly trying to hint that the Reader is really quite arrogant and brazen. Rather than Harry as the chosen one, where he longs for a quiet and normal life, Reader dives headfirst into her role. She shamelessly self-promotes her lightning-scar and doesn’t try to hide it – she knows she’s special and she feeds into that!!  She’s kinda like James Potter in that regard >.< and therefore I want her to kind of be epitome of a Gryffindor (courageous and arrogant) and maybe, maybe not, a parallel to Draco Malfoy (who also got sorted into Slytherin ASAP, and is ambitious and arrogant) hehe → that’s also why Reader and Malfoy get more aggressive even more quickly than Harry did in canon… Anyways!!! This is the briefest hint at what I have in store for this series, and we’ll see how Reader’s arrogance courageousness deviates Harry Potter from canon.  Tbh I’m planning to make the reader Percy Jackson-coded (with the sass and reckless bravery and loyalty and what not) and maybe just the slightest bit Gojo-coded hehe,  I know that it's not that clear rn lol but I’ll work my way into it hopefully… Anyways, thanks again! :D Series Masterlist

Taglist (thanks for asking!): @kaverichauhan

[slytherintragedy]

✩༺♥༻✩ ━ ❝ I was tame, I was gentle till the circus life made me mean. ❞

✪ 。゜ ⠀ ☆ 。゜ ⠀ ★ Answered » { Odette }

✦ —   * ⠀ / ⠀ 𝙁𝙄𝙇𝙀𝘿 𝙐𝙉𝘿𝙀𝙍 ⠀﹕⠀ ❪ @gentlepuff ❫

The Slytherin had honestly just been minding his own business, ignoring practically everyone. Was more than aware of certain whispers that was spreading around, how could he not be? He wasn't deaf and despite seeming zoned out, he's paid somewhat enough attention. But with what's been going on, he just didn't care to snap back. Yet when the Hufflepuff startled him, Draco couldn't help but to snap at her with insults. Though when she snapped back, that had surprised him into silence before his laughter broke the silence that lingered for a little bit. And oh how her next choice of words, only made the corners of his lips curve upwards in a sharp smile. ❝An angel finally got some bite to her, what a surprising twist.❞ Malfoy remarked. ❝But the problem is, I don't buy it so let’s hear one morе joke.❞ Draco knew that war changes people, how could it not? But he truly didn't see her changing, however it wasn't like they were ever friends so what would he know? Nothing.

[pbielik]

Bohaterowie uniwersum "Panny Black" jako przedmioty/zjawiska/etc. - część 1

Tiana Adara Lupin-Black

piękna jak pełnia księżyca w śnieżną noc

Venus Amelia Cregence

piękna jak niebieski motyl

Lucas Marcus McKinnon

piękny jak nocne rozmowy o życiu przy papierosie

(Kochani, nie palimy. To szkodzi zdrowiu)

Adrian Henric Pucey

piękny jak Duomo di Milano

Nimfadora Vulpecula "Dora" Tonks

piękna jak martensy

Draco Lucjusz Malfoy-Black

piękny jak ptaki z origami

Carlos Alejandro de la familia Rodriguez

piękny jak stara poezja na rozpadających się, pożółkłych kartkach

Madlene Odette Valoise

piękna i romantyczna jak Paryż

Marquis Oliver Valoise

piękny jak muzyka klasyczna rozbrzmiewająca z fortepianu

Michael Lazarus Ambing

piękny jak sztorm i burza na oceanie

[gentlepuff]

@talesfromthevoiid asks ❝ I must admit I expected far worse from an arranged marriage. ❞ //from Draco maybe

Odette looked at him. She was dressed in a rather clean and seamless black dress with long sleeves, anything to impress his side of the family. They are Malfoys after all. She wad stood quietly beside him until he spoke to her. "Well, that's...comforting to know. So, I'm not the worst person who you will be married to?" She asked him. To be honest, she never expected to be put into an arranged marriage but when her grandparents told her about it, she understood why they continued to honour it and so she couldn't hold a grudge against them. Though she can not understand why his family still honoured the arrangement, especially because it is strange for a Hufflepuff and Slytherin to be married.

[noxtms]

*   𝐀𝐍𝐎𝐍𝐘𝐌𝐎𝐔𝐒 𝐀𝐒𝐊𝐄𝐃   :   now fcs 30+?

angelica ross, odette annable, caitriona balfe, tom ellis, andrew lincoln, hugh dancy, alex kingston, sendhil ramamurthy ( specifically as amos diggory ), amy acker, alexander skarsgard, anna diop, eve best, carla gugino, maggie q, renee elise goldsberry, pedro pascal ( specifically as eliza fawley's husband & eulalia karkaroff's ex ), salma hayek, laverne cox, frank grillo, jamie clayton, sarah michelle gellar, rahul kohli, gillian anderson, taraji p henson, lesley ann brandt, krysten ritter, sarah shahi, lee pace ( specifically as xenophilius lovegood malfoy ), fan bingbing, daisy head, candice patton, laura harrier, howard charles, diego luna, david harbour, danai gurira, katheryn winnick, lee hyori, indira varma ( specifically as septima vector ), skeet ulrich, jon hamm, gugu mbatha raw, daniel henney, shay mitchell, gabrielle union, sarah raggerty, john cho, minka kelly, christina hendricks ( specifically as molly weasley ), lisa berry, lupita nyong'o, chloe bridges, mandy moore, linda cardellini, john krasinski, gemma chan ( specifically as fleur weasley ), bradley cooper, michelle yeoh ( specifically as arabella figg ), lucy liu, anne hathaway, christian serratos, sam heughan, oscar isaac, henry golding, hayden christensen, dev patel, meaghan rath, christina ricci, dewanda wise, ben barnes ( specifically as amycus carrow ), mahershala ali, michael trevino, poorna jagannathan, jessica lucas, annabelle wallis, jack o'connell ( specifically as charlie weasley ), santiago cabrera, nadia hilker, morena baccarin, sofia boutella, sacha dhawwan, charles michael davis, justin h min, t'nia miller ( specifically as aurora sinistra ), jada pinkett smith, karla souza, jodie comer, matt czuchry, neslihan atagul, hayley law, conor leslie, idris elba ( specifically as caradoc dearborn ), philippa soo, manny jacinto, adam brody, jacob anderson, isla fisher, michelle pfeiffer, kareena kapoor, isaiah mustafa, angela bassett ( specifically as madam zabini ), jude law, mike colter, mariska hargitay, milo ventimiglia ( specifically as regulus black ), ritu arya, sean bean, ayca aysin turan, melanie scrofano, daniel craig, raul esparza, kiana madeira, ming na wen, lashana lynch ( specifically as gwenog jones ), matthew gray gubler, keanu reeves, luke evans, sheetal sheth, alfred molina ( specifically as rubeus hagrid ), nesrin cavadzade, rachel weisz, sophia bush, mads mikkelsen, emmy raver lampman, levy tran, zoe wanamaker, nathalie emmanuel, vanessa kirby, taron egerton ( specifically as george weasley ), emily browning, aaron tveit, asia kate dillon, hannah john kamen, wakeema hollis, william jackson harper, richa moorjani, robert sheehan ( specifically as mundungus fletcher ), reese witherspoon, karen fukuhara, raymond ablack, kumail nanjiana, lea seydoux, beren saat, lauren ridloff ( specifically as ian borgin's older sibling ), constance wu, demi moore, neve campbell, bridget regan, ruth wilson, nathalie kelley, demet ozdemir, dilraba dilmurta, jamie chung, winston duke, angelina jolie, marisol nichols, alison brie, matthew goode, amy adams, dichen lachman or jennifer garner ( specifically as andromeda tonks ) !

[coffeedrgn87]

December 21st Drarry Drabble: "Hand-made Decoration"

Read Parts 1 through 5 here.

Tags: Awkward Conversations, A bit of bonding, Draco Malfoy is actually alright, Harry sees it but isn't ready to admit it yet, Nervous Habits, Temptations, Spicy Dreams

A few days before Christmas Eve, and after completely ignoring the very existence of Malfoy’s snarky note, Harry sat in Malfoy’s private living room. While he waited for Malfoy to join him, he fidgeted with one of the wreaths Ron had made a couple days prior. Rather than looking at the decoration, Harry concentrated on the texture and his sense of smell. The needles of the cedar clipping were fern-like, and the more Harry toyed with the wreath, the stronger the woodsy pine scent became. The tiny pine cone was hard, a perfect juxtaposition of the soft, round red berries.

Harry had no idea why he’d brought the wreath along with him. It wasn’t like Malfoy had requested that he arrive with a personal item or anything that had special meaning to Harry. All he’d asked for was that Harry not be in a rush for their consultation. The wreath had been a last-minute thing; Harry had grabbed it from his mantelpiece seconds before throwing a pinch of floo powder into the hearth. Now that his nerves were threatening to get the better of him, toying with the wreath felt like Ron was right here with him, supporting him through a second consultation.

Malfoy’s private living quarters still felt intimidating, and there was very little Harry could do to stop his gaze from drifting towards the mantelpiece to appreciate Malfoy’s framed photographs. A large vase with dried pussywillow branches, lunaria, pine, natural flax, and dried red berries stood in the centre, and the sweet, rich, syrupy scent of vanilla wafted through the air. It stemmed from a large white three-wick candle that quietly flickered in the corner of the room.

When Malfoy entered the room a moment later, he brought zesty and fresh citrus notes with him, and Harry instinctively locked his jaw to stop it from dropping to the ground. Malfoy wore a thin cream-coloured sweater and a white button-down with a stiff, open collar underneath it. A pair of tailored black cotton trousers complimented the outfit, and when Harry met Malfoy’s gaze, he noted that the clothing combination made his silvery-grey eyes pop.

Swallowing hard, Harry twisted the tiny Christmas wreath in his clammy hands. Part of him worried that he might accidentally destroy it, and forcing his hands to still, Harry dropped the wreath in his lap. He shoved his hands underneath his thighs and offered Malfoy an awkward smile.

“Hullo, Malfoy.”

Malfoy’s grin was positively disarming, and Harry felt his face heat.

“Hello, Potter.”

Since Harry had chosen to sit on the sofa, Malfoy chose the armchair directly across from him and elegantly folding himself into the cushions, he crossed one leg over the other, brushed an invisible speck of dust off his trousers, and leant back. Elbows resting on the armrests, Malfoy dropped his hands into his lap and loosely clasped them together.

Harry tried not to read anything into the posture, Malfoy’s smile, or the effortless way he wormed his way under Harry’s skin with his mere presence.

“Uhm, listen, Malfoy— I’m, er— I’m sorry about Odette. I wasn’t think—”

Malfoy waved his hand dismissively.

“No matter, Potter. Excuse my snark; I’m particularly fond of my sleep. The intrusion was— unexpected.”

Malfoy’s brief pause told Harry that he was censoring himself and shifting on the sofa; Harry stretched his legs out underneath the coffee table, then promptly pulled them back to make himself smaller.

“Did you watch it?”

Malfoy nodded.

“I did. Interesting choice.”

Harry pulled a face.

“I didn’t choose it; the memory came to me in an exhaustion-fuelled dream after about a million failed attempts to extract anything suitable. I figured this was personal enough.”

Harry couldn’t interpret Malfoy’s smile, but there was something sharp about it, like it could be both an expression of amusement and proof that Malfoy was quietly mocking him. Harry didn’t know how to feel about that, except that sitting on his hands didn’t do the trick. He went back to fidgeting with his wreath.

“It was, thank you. And to hopefully make you less nervous, the first person I told was Parkinson sometime during fourth year. I was terrified my father would find out, so she and Blaise assured me they’d protect me at all costs. Of course, I didn’t believe them, but it’s the sentiment that counts, isn’t it?”

Somewhat slow on the uptake, Harry took a moment to digest Malfoy’s statement. Vague memories of seeing Malfoy at functions and watching him lean close to a companion or engage in small acts of publicly sanctioned intimacy flooded his thoughts. Harry instinctively turned his head and looked towards the mantelpiece. His gaze slid over all the photographs until he reached the photo of Malfoy and the handsome stranger. Even from a distance, their closeness was palpable and swallowing hard; Harry slowly looked back at Malfoy.

“You’re gay, yeah?”

Malfoy’s laugh was soft, and his eyes twinkled. He appeared genuinely amused.

“Potter— Harry, surely you didn’t think I was straight?”

Harry’s cheeks felt hot. Averting his gaze, he stared at the tips of his boots and shrugged.

“Wasn’t really thinking anything,” he mumbled. It wasn’t an outright lie, but it wasn’t the truth.

“Well, now you know. I’m as queer as they come. Always have been, and no, my father disapproves, always has. Then again, there isn’t much he approves of. Thankfully, his permanent relocation to Azkaban saves me from concerning myself with his deranged nonsense.”

Harry nodded.

“What about your mother?”

Malfoy’s smile paled a little, and he looked thoughtful.

Worried that he’d overstepped a line, Harry quickly apologised or tried to anyway. After all, he and Malfoy weren’t exactly chums.

“Erm, sorry, you don’t have to tell me; I was just— uhm, curious, I guess.”

Malfoy’s expression brightened a little. He made that dismissive gesture with his hand.

“You’re perfectly alright. She’d like a grandchild more than anything, but apart from that, she’s happy to leave me be.”

“My— uhm, er— Molly is much the same with me.”

Malfoy’s laugh sent ripples of tingles through Harry. It was clear, soft, and with a genuine sweetness to it, that simply couldn’t be faked. His eyelashes fluttered, and the warmth in his gaze made Harry’s cheeks blaze.

“Doesn’t she have enough grandchildren?” Malfoy asked.

Harry shrugged.

“You’d think,” he said. “Molly’s the nurturing type; she’d wilt if the house was empty or quiet for more than an hour. I reckon she thrives on madness, running around like a headless chicken, looking after everyone all at once.”

Malfoy’s grin was a lopsided thing of beauty. Harry’s stomach flipped, and his heart fluttered.

“I reckon my mother would spoil her grandchild rotten. If I close my eyes, I imagine her dressed in expensive robes finger-painting with a child in her lap.”

Harry couldn’t imagine Narcissa Malfoy ruining a perfect dress while goofing around with a toddler, but he had no concede that he didn’t know her as well as Malfoy did.

“Did she do that stuff with you?” he asked curiously.

Malfoy looked wistful for a moment. After a few seconds of silence, he nodded.

“Yeah, she did. Whenever Father wasn’t around, she got goofy with me. But she always said, ‘don’t tell your dad; he’ll get mad’. It was always our little secret. You’re the first person I told in a long time.”

Lost in thought, Harry toyed with his wreath. He let out a soft sigh. When he looked up to meet Malfoy, he found two curious sparkling eyes pinning him down. Malfoy looked introspective like he was considering something he hadn’t thought of in years. His right hand unconsciously moved to clasp the inside of his left forearm. He rubbed his arm through his sweater and shirt but stopped abruptly when he noticed that Harry’s gaze had instinctively followed his gesture. Within a second, he shook his emotions off and straightened up.

“Well, Potter, enough chit-chat for now. I ran a few tests on the aura of memory-you, and while I have a hunch, I’d like to have another go at your current aura. You know the drill won’t hurt a bit; it’ll just feel like a ghosting touch.”

Harry nodded. He didn’t know what to say. Well, that wasn’t precisely true. He could think of a few things he wanted to say, but all of them seemed inappropriate now that Malfoy had snapped back into this professional version of himself. So, instead of bringing up something at the forefront of his mind, he leant back into the sofa cushions and tried to relax. Malfoy stood up, drew his wand and approached him.

The closeness made Harry a little uneasy, but he tried his hardest not to react to it. Instead, he watched as Malfoy weaved a complicated pattern with his wand, mumbling several incantations Harry couldn’t immediately place. A few sounded vaguely familiar, but during his first consultation with Malfoy, he’d been so focused on trying not to flinch that he hadn’t really listened to Malfoy’s incantations.

This time, Harry still struggled to listen, and when the first wave of magic rippled over him, he shuddered. A tingle rolled down his spine and the hairs at the back of his neck stood up. Unable to keep his eyes open, Harry let them fall closed and focused on his breathing. Malfoy’s spellwork was exceptional. While Harry could tell that Malfoy was picking at his aura, sorting through the various strands and looking for anything unfamiliar, he was so gentle about it that Harry strained to feel more. His thoughts were blurry images of an unidentifiable figure, warm breath ghosting over his skin, eyelashes fluttering against his cheeks, and warm lips twitching against his own. Unable to shake off the unexpected daydream, Harry fell into a fantasy of a pair of hands and lips driving him beyond crazy with their skilful taunts. He pressed his lips tightly together and swallowed hard as he desperately tried to contain himself.

When Malfoy unexpectedly pulled away, Harry’s eyes snapped open, and he looked up. Malfoy’s wry grin sent a shockwave through Harry, and he bit the inside of his mouth to swallow a soft exhale.

“Potter— Harry, I get that the sensations are distracting, and while I can’t tell what you’re thinking, it would be conducive for you to remain focused and in the present. It’s rather distracting when your aura is glowing like a rainbow in the sky.”

Harry’s entire face was aflame, burning with heat. Part of him wanted to object. He’d hardly planned to have a spicy dream while Malfoy tried to fix his mistletoe problem.

“Erm—” he said, but before he could say any more, Malfoy waved his hand dismissively.

“Just, please,” he said, and before Harry had any chance to prepare himself, he recast his complex incantation and continued his examination.

[imnotobsessedwfictionalchracters]

Basic Information: Harry Potter OC's

Hello everything, so here is all the basic information about my Harry Potter OC's Anneliese (Anne/Annie) and Rose. This does mention relationships so spoilers there as well as spoilers when I mention different events in their life!

I also just want to say as I am white, my characters are as well, if you wish you make them not, that is up to you. Just don't get mad whenever I describe this as white. But most of my characters have skin similar to my own, white as hell during the fall and winter months but during the spring and summer months with the sun, is more tan.

Link to my nav page here

Link to my main masterlist here

Link to my Harry Potter masterlist here

Character 1

Name: Anneliese Erika Green

Nickname(s): Anne (everyone), Annie (Albus & her mother), Al (to Albus P.), Scor(p) (to Scorpius M.), Lil(s) (to Lily P.)

Birthday (Zodiac): October 31st, 2005 (Libra)

Where she was born: Wales, UK [specifically Pontardawe, Rhos, Swansea (according to Google)]

Parent(s): Danielle Aleksandrova (mother) and Peter Green (father) and Katrina Bolish (step-mother)

Sibling(s) (born): Aidan P. Green (1999), Antonio E. Green (2001), Derek I. Green (2001), Dominick K. Green (2002), Liam A. Green (2003), Randolph L. Green (2003), Genevieve R. Green (2004), Alexa K. Green (2006), Liana L. Green (2006), Clara A. Green (2008), Odette A. Green (2009), Elina L. Green (2012), Eden S. Green (2013), Nicholas B. Green (2015), and Charles P. Green (2024)

Partner(s): Albus Potter, Rohyn Goyle, Colin Creevy, and Oliver Avery

Job: Waitress at the Leaky Cauldron and Healer

Physical Description:

House: Slytherin Blood: Pure-Blood Hair: medium brown, has a habit of dying it different colors Eyes: amber eyes (basically hazel with yellow/orange specs) Height: 177.8 cm (5’10) Glasses Freckles Tattoos: a few around her body, specifically around her hip Favorite colors: dark green (#006400), dark purple (#301934), and mint green (#98ff98)

Events in life: Is up until the end of her 7th year

Born to be the middle of 15 (7 older and 7 younger) Meets Albus Gets put in Slytherin: 11 Her mum gets sick: 14 (summer after her 3rd year) Her mum dies: 15 (summer after her 4th year) She dates Rohyn: 15-16 She breaks up with him Dad announces he is dating Katrina She gets with Albus: 16 (winter of 5th year) Her dad announces engagement to Katrina: 16 (spring of 5th year) Dad marries Katrina and she refuses to go and starts to live with her grandparents: 16 (summer after 5th year) Moves out to her own flat: 17 (winter of 6th year)

Link to playlist

Character 2

Name: Rose Lily (Potter) Lupin

Nickname(s): Ro (everyone)

Birthday (Zodiac): July 31st, 1980 Leo)

Age per film:

The Sorcerer's Stone: 10-11 The Chamber of Secrets: 12 The Prisoner of Azkaban: 13 The Goblet of Fire: 14 The Order of the Phoenix: 14-15 The Half-Blood Prince: 16 The Deathly Hallows Part 1: 16-17 The Deathly Hallows Part 2: 17 The Epilogue: 37

Where she was born: (according to Google this is where Godric's Hollow is) Godric's Hollow in the West Country of England

Parent(s): Lily J. Evans (mother) and James Fleamont Potter (father)

Sibling(s): Harry J. Potter (1980)

Partner(s): Draco Malfoy and Blaise Zabini

Child(ren): Scorpius Hyperion Malfoy (2006) and Estella Cissy Malfoy (2008)

Job: Travel photographer

Physical Description:

House: Slytherin Blood: Half-Blood Quidditch Position: Chaser Hair: curly dark red, dark red with black streaks/highlights/tips (15-24), and blonde (41-45) Eyes: brown Height: 173.863 cm (5’8.45) Scars: one on her left forearm and on the top of her right hand Tattoos: a few on her left forearm and one on her right hand Favorite colors: dark lime green (#104e2e), dark almost black blue (#1a2326), and light grey-violet (#896ab9)

Events in life:

Is separated from Harry once she turned a year/moved in with Remus and Sirius Is raised by Remus with the help of Andromeda and Ted Tonks: 1-17 Is aware that Voldemort killed her parents as she grew up Finds out that Harry is her brother whilst ease dropping on Andy and Remus before she started Hogwarts: 10 Is placed in Slytherin: 11 Moves into Grimmauld Place with Remus and Sirius: 13 (summer after 3rd year) Begins living with Andy and Ted more: 15 (summer after 5th year) Starts dating Blaise Zabini Gets placed into the Slug Club: 16 (fall/winter of 6th year) Continues to be at Hogwarts, attempting to help Ginny and the rest of the kids at Hogwarts: 17 Tells Harry the truth because what was the point of keeping it silent at the point of the end of the war: 18 Helps ensure everything with Teddy is settled: 17-20 Breaks up with Blaise: 20 Travels the world, selling photos to both muggle and wizarding papers/magazines: 20-24 Begins to secretly date Draco: 24-25 Gets pregnant with Scorpius and has to come out about their relationship, ruining her relationship with Harry Has Scorpius: 25 Marries Draco: 26 Has a daughter Estella: 28 Falls ill mysteriously for a year or so: 40-41

Link to playlist

[upinsmoke-gossip]

Halloween was quite the hellscape this year. Who seems most haunted by the most current disaster?

Odette Vogel has been a jumpy thing lately. Maybe she doesn’t care for the cold or maybe she came a little too close to being kissed since I’ve heard rumors that someone saw her out there with the dementors that night.

You know, I heard that Nate Chastain was actually grounded by Nic Chastain after that night? I don’t know why, it sounds like Nate held up pretty well and managed to start a few fires with a girl. Maybe it started a fire between them as well and that’s why Nic is keeping brother dearest locked in a cage.

Oh, and honorable mention to Narcissa Malfoy. She never seems too certain what to do with herself in public, but I bet it’s going to be even worse now that she knows she can’t do so much as get a cup of tea without things going wrong. Really, some women do their best when they just stay on a fainting couch looking pretty.

@odettcss @nathan-chastain @nicholas-chastain @narcissa-the-magiflorist

[martimartinka20]

Zamieszana w zakazane

Pierwotnie udostępniono na Wattpadzie.

_________________________________________

"Nagle usłyszeli kroki na schodach i, nim zdążyli cokolwiek zrobić, ujrzeli pukiel rudych loków wyglądających zza drzwi.

- Mama kazała... - zdanie urwało się, nim ktokolwiek zdołał zarejestrować, że ktoś coś mówił.

Para przerażonych oczu zdawała się przekazywać więcej niż słowa.

- Przecież on nie żyje."

"- Nie zrobi tego, Molly. Nie można jej uratować - uparcie brnął mężczyzna, nie dając za wygraną.

Do oczu matki napłynęło więcej łez.

- Przecież już kiedyś to zrobiła - nalegała.

Naprawdę zachowywali się, jakby jej tu nie było, a to nie ona była duchem, o którym mówili. (...) Czasami miała wrażenie, że igranie z zaświatami sprawia, że staje się coraz mniej żywa.

- Błagam, jak matka matkę, pomóż mi - wyszeptała Pani Weasley, gorączkowo pocierając jej ramiona."

________________________________________

Kiedy Odette Vivienne Malfoy po ślubie wyjechała do Ameryki, nie myślała, że kiedykolwiek wróci do Anglii. Miała kochanego męża, dziecko, dobrą pracę i pieniądze na utrzymanie - do szczęścia nic więcej nie było jej potrzebne. Jednak nikt nie mógł przewidzieć, że w jedną noc straci wszystko, na co pracowała ostatnie dziesięć lat.

Tragiczne wydarzenia zmusiły ją do powrotu w rodzinne strony, a sama Odette wróciła do swoich czystokrwistych korzeni - im bardziej się do czegoś przywiązujesz, tym bardziej boli, gdy to tracisz. Z pomocą bliskiej osoby starała się zbudować życie na nowo, ale co gdy jej kruchym światem zawładnie nadchodząca wojna, konflikt wartości i... pewien ciemnowłosy mężczyzna?

_________________________________________

"Harry Potter" i wszystkie kanoniczne postacie należą do J. K. Rowling.

[ownedit]

Rewatching Leap and am seeing scary similarities, not only in looks but attitude 1. Felicie- Lily Potter Ne Evans -Same fiery attitude and spirit (Red hair Green eyes) 2. Odette- Severus Snape -Same snappiness and sassiness, seems rude but kind underneath (Black hair and black eyes) 3. Victor- James Potter -Same joking attitude and in love with the redhead who doesn’t reciprocate it (brown hair brown eyed) 4. Camille- Narcissa Malfoy Ne Black- Wants to be the best, same attitude, but truly kind underneath (Blonde hair and blue eyes) 5. Rudolf- Lucius Malfoy- Rich and pampered EVEN HAS PEACOCKS (Blonde hair and blue eyes) If you guys see more feel free to add

[juliaswickcrs]

HP FANCAST (GOLDEN ERA)

GRYFFINDOR

Alicia Spinnet: Aisha Dee

Angelina Johnson: Alisha Boe

Ginny Weasley: Abigail Cowen

Katie Bell: Arden Cho

Lavender Brown: Laura Harrier

Parvati Patil: Simone Ashley

Seamus Finnegan: Barry Keoghan

SLYTHERIN

Blaise Zabini: Keiynan Lonsdale

Daphne Greengrass: Madelyn Cline

Theodore Nott: Thomas Doherty

Tracey Davis: Lulu Antariksa**

HUFFLEPUFF

Hannah Abbott: Ginny Gardner

Ernie Macmillan: Austin Abrams***

Zacharias Smith: Rudy Pankow*

Susan Bones: Zendaya***

RAVENCLAW

Lisa Turpin: Taissa Farmiga

Padma Patil: Charithra Chandran

Terry Boot: Dominic Fike

Marietta Edgecombe: Maddison Brown

THE ORDER

Sirius Black: Pedro Pascal*

Remus Lupin: Lee Pace

Andromeda Tonks: Ana De Armas

Charlie Weasley: Josh Stradowski

Emmeline Vance: Kristin Kreuk

Ted Tonks: John Krasinski

DEATH EATERS:

Alecto Carrow: Jaime Chung

Amycus Carrow: Lewis Tan

Bellatrix Lestrange: Odette Annable

Fenrir Greyback: Ian Bohen

Narcissa Malfoy: Nathalie Kelley

*these fancasts originate with lupinblack **these fancasts originate with a-song-of-quill-and-feather ***these fancasts originate with decennia

[fattest-disney-characters]

Disney Princensses/Queen Muse

1:Snow White

2;Cinderella

3:Aurora

4:Belle

5:Jasmine

6:Pocahontas

7:Mulan

8:Ariel

9:Tiana

10:Rapuzel

11:Merida

12:Moana

13:Anna

14:Melody (18 yo)

15:Elsa

16:Queen of Spades

Turning Red Characters

1:Ming Lee

2:Mei Lee (18 yo)

3:Priya (18 yo)

4:Miriam (18 yo)

5:Abby (18yo)

6:Chen

7:Ping

8:Helen

9:Lily

10:Grandma Wu

11. Vivian(Lily daughter that was cut from the movie)

12. Jin Lee

Lion King Characters

1:Nala

2:Kiara

3:Sarabi

4:Sarafina

5:Zira

6:Vitani

Pokémon characters

1.Gloria from pokémon sword and shield (18 years old)

2.Marnie from pokémon sword and shield(18 years old)

3. Irida from pokémon legends arceus (18 years old)

4.Akari from pokemon legends arceus (18 years old)

5. Cogita from pokémon legends arceus

6. Serena from pokémon x and y(20 years old)

7. Misty(but in mighthyena form) from pokémon (25 years)

8. Nurse Joy, weight: 780lbs

Harry Potter Characters (games included)

Petunia Drusley

Aunt Marge

Prunela Drusley

Hermione Granger

Merula

Luna Lovewood

Fleru

Aludra Malfoy

Anne Sallow (starting weight: 120 lbs)

Mha

Inko age 41 years old (Inko Midoriya is a jumbo-sized blob of a Housewife

who weighs 3496 lbs)

Mitsuki 39 years old (Mitsuki Bakugo is a spectacularly hefty blob of a Housewife who weighs 3835 lbs)

Ochako 18years old

Toga 18 years old

Momo 18 years old

Mina 18 years old

Tsu 18 years old

Toru 18 years old

Mandalay

Pixie-Bob

Ragdoll

One Piece Characters

Nami;

Vivi;

Nico Robin

Boa Hancock

Yamato(Daughter of Kaido)

Charlotte Linlin aka Big Mom: 1323lbs

Irl SSBBW Ladies( tv shows, movies, etc)

Lisa Fleming

Kelly Mason

Coliesa McMillian

Renee Biran

Guna Krasley

Ashley Randall

Laura Ann Perez

Angela Gutierrez

Dragoness

Ludmilla

Malifecent

Rick and Morty ladies

Beth

Summer

Clarence World Lady

Mary Wendell

Show of courage the scared dog fat lady

Muriel

Hazbin Hotel/ Helluva Boss

Charlie

Vaggie

Loona

Octavia

Millie

Loona

Kim of 666 news

Vaggie

Kung Fu Panda ladies

Viper

Mei Mei

Master Tigress

My Little Pony

Princess Celestia

Princess Luna

Princess Cadence

Princess Twillight

Rarity

Pinkie Pie

Apple Jack

Rainbow Dash

Fluttershy

Star wars ladies

Padme

Ahsoka

Rei

Leia

Fat Bleach Ladies

Orihime

Rukia

Hikifune

Rangiku

Isane

Momo

Soi Fon

Rurichyo

Yachiru

Kiyone

Nemu

Karin Kurosaki

Masaki Kurosaki

Yuzu Kurosaki

Fat Naruto/Boruto ladies

Sakura

Hinata

Tsunade

Shizune

Mito Uzumaki

Kushina uzumaki

Anko

Family guy fat ladies

Meg Griffin

Lois Griffin

The Simpsons

Marge

Lisa

Maggie

Dia-Betty

Marge sisters

Maude Fladders

Louanne Van Houten

Mindy Simmons

Miss Hoover

Edna Krabapple

Fat Sonic ladies

Vanilla

Cream

Amy Rose

Rouge

Blaze

Fat Fnaf

Chica

Toy Chica

Funtime Chica

Glamrock Chica

Mangle

Nightmare Mangle

Roxanne Wolf

Circus Baby

Ballora

Vanny

Officer Vanessa

Beastars ladies

Leano(Legoshi mom)

Juno

Liza(my oc)

Sheila

Haru

Melon Mum

Legoshi (Because of a episode he dressed as a lady)

Toki (Leano mom and Legoshi grandma)

Undertale/ Deltarune

Toriel

Frisk

Chara

Alphys

Catty

Catti

Fixala beautiful girls

Pebbles and Becky

Ashley

Rosie (Ashley vixen pet)

Georgette

Magna

Delphine

Victoria and her sisters younger Kelly and Kylie

Ricky

Morgana:pig

Hissy:pet snake

Odette

Victoria

Loky

Janet

Jasper

Nina

Stacey

Magna

Caramel

Valerie

Lesley

Morana

Zala

Nina:glaceon

Madelyn 'Maddie': vaporeon

Momo

Sanurah

Kylie

Vanessa

Witch of waste

Carol

Sarah

Karen

[ladyvesuvia]

MINI-CELEBRATION FOR 400 FOLLOWERS

[NAVIGATION]

CLOSED

ANNOUNCEMENT

Thank you for supporting me and my works! To thank you all, I have started a camping-themed celebration with multiple activities. But that’s not all. I’m also starting a two-month writing challenge! Deadline: None, so feel free to take your time.

RULES:

No need to be following me to participate, but would be nice if you did mwah

Reblog this post!

open for all Harry Potter characters as long as it’s a reader insert! (Ex: character x reader, character x reader x character + love triangles are okay too)

oneshot, blurb, and drabbles are welcome!

implied smut is okay, but no visual scenes and graphic depictions.

NO PEDOPHILIA, INCEST, AND NON-CON/RAPE. Please. Not only are you disqualified, but you will also be blocked and reported.

it’s okay to cancel! just let me know via asks so i can remove you from the list <3

maximum of three users under the same prompt.

you can write angst, fluff, comfort, and whump! but angst is recommended hehe *convulses*

INSTRUCTIONS:

send me an ask and tell me which of the following prompt(s) you will be doing + the character(s).

make sure to mention me in your story and tag your post with #vesuvia400wc

masterlist for everyone’s works!

SONGS:

1. Evergreen Tree by Cliff Richard

2. How to Fight Loneliness by Wilco

3. Let Her Go by Passenger

— Sirius Black » @mais-e

4. Someone Like You by Adele

— James Potter » @everlxre

5. This Time I’ll Be Sweeter by Angela Bofill

6. Till I Met You by Odette Quesada

7. Traitor by Olivia Rodrigo

— Fred Weasley » @fredsghost

— Harry Potter » @galaxypotter

8. Two Slow Dancers by Mitski

— Hermione Granger » @simpology

9. Turning Page by Sleeping at Last

10. When We Were Young by Adele

— Draco Malfoy » @noellewrites

DIALOGUE:

ANGST

11. “You were the one who walked out, not me.”

— Draco Malfoy » @noellewrites

12. “I’m not (her/him/them/you).”

— Harry Potter, Draco Malfoy » @firewhiskyss

13. “I’m happy I met (you/her/him/them). I’m sorry (you/she/he/they) met me.”

14. “We were doomed right from the start.”

— Regulus Black » @1800-unrequited-love

15. “Are you still waiting for me to fall in love with you?”

— James Potter » @prongs103

16. “How much have you had?”

17. “Get out. Get out of this house and get out of my life!”

18. “Are you tired? Do you want out?”

— Sirius Black » @sexysirius

19. “You know this means nothing, right?”

— Fred Weasley » @fredsghost

20. “Look me in the eyes and tell me what you just said.”

— Draco Malfoy » @irinaswans

FLUFF

21. “I didn’t think it was possible to love someone this much.”

— Harry Potter, Draco Malfoy » @firewhiskyss

22. “Can you please just hold me?”

— Sirius Black » @genimy

23. “You made me a better person. Thank you.” 

— Harry Potter » @destourtereaux

24. “This reminded me of you.”

— Harry Potter » @siriuslysmokin

25. “I’m never going to leave you. I promise.”

— Fred Weasley » @henqtic

— Harry Potter » @destourtereaux

26. “You’re the only thing that matters.”

27. “Can I borrow your jacket, please?”

— Ginny Weasley » @gold-russh

28. “Kiss me.”

— Harry Potter » @potters-heart

28. “I told you to take care of yourself!”

29. “Your sweater smells AND feels like you.”

30. “Any time without you is far too long.”

PROMPTS:

31. Person A wakes up after a late night out to find that Person B, who doesn’t drink, has made them a feast of hangover foods.

32. Person A writing Person B's name in a heart/under the love umbrella/etc. in their notebook together with their own name.

— Remus Lupin » @cupids-crystals

33. Person B helping Person A with simple tasks, like brushing their hair, or putting on jewelry, where it’s obviously an excuse to be close to each other, but neither are complaining.

— Sirius Black » @cupids-crystals

34. Imagine Person A returning the engagement ring they got for Person B to the jeweller. Not because said no, but because Person B had worked up the courage to propose before Person A did.

35. Person A and Person B going on the Haunted Mansion/a haunted house. Person A isn’t scared, but they pretend to be so they can cling to Person B’s arms.

— Harry Potter » @mistress-riddle

— Sirius Black » @sarahisslytherin

TROPES:

36. Enemies to Lovers

37. Friends to Lovers

— Harry Potter » @potters-heart

38. Fake Dating

39. Arranged Marriage

— Sirius Black » @sir-prongs

40. Stuck in detention together

— James Potter » @wizardwh33zes

AUs:

41. Soulmate AU where your soulmate’s name appears on your skin only after they fall in love with you.

42. “I write a bad pick-up line on your cup every time I’m your barista” AU

43. “Our siblings are in an arranged marriage and so we see each other at awkward social gatherings between our two kingdoms” AU

— Draco Malfoy » @holden-caulfield

44. Royalty AU in general

45. CEO AU in general

tagging my moots!: @holden-caulfield @maybanksslut @mendesxruel @mrzweasley @shadesofvelma @slutforsalvatore @sfdlm @justadreamyhufflepuff @cupids-crystals @ronsbadidea @lovegoodsgf @prettygirlkay @hellounicorn @ronsonlywhore @simpology @angstology @railmeharrypotter @angeloniaa @gxtitobxby @gxldenrxsess @hey-there-angels @potters-heart @pansyslut @amourtentiaa @fredsghost @leydileyla @miss-starkov @mistress-riddle