#This is why I don't try to talk about such factual and real world shit with people

[acorpsecalledcorva]

I've tried to write about this a couple times now academically, then in a funny jokey way, but the problem is I'm trying to rationalise a personal topic to justify it and make it more general but honestly it keeps ending up being fakeclaimy, perhaps in a way that deflects from me so fuck it, here goes.

My trauma memories are wrong. And that's okay.

With all the talk about the false memory syndrome and the sociocognitive model I find myself in an interesting position where I wholeheartedly disagree with the False Memory Syndrome proponents attempts to discredit DID as a diagnosis whilst having false memories very much be a part of my diagnosis, with sociocognitive elements influencing both my false trauma memories and my presentation of DID (not it's cause, just how it manifested at times).

And the key issue is metacognition and world beliefs, a growing area of research in the trauma and dissociation field. It basically goes that humans are incredibly narrative in nature. Our memories aren't factual, they're stories we tell ourselves filled with meaning and metaphor and allegory. It's why we love stories so much, whether it's fiction or juicy gossip, interacting with others interpretation of events and finding meaning in them helps us to interpret and assign meaning to our own lives and create rich, nuanced world beliefs. When something happens that is incompatible with our world beliefs and we are unable to assign meaning to to integrate it onto our subjective narrative, that's trauma.

Emotional support can help us to develop our metacognitive abilities and integrate traumatic events but things like disorganised attachment environments really fuck up this ability from a very young age and the creation of alters in CDDs can be viewed as attempts by the brain to protect those very early world beliefs (I rely on my caregivers for survival), by creating new characters in the story who can hold simultaneous contradictory world beliefs.

The problem is when traumatic shit happens young enough, memory just doesn't record properly. The emotional feelings of helplessness and threat to life or exposure and violation might be preserved, but the "factual" record can be lost forever. And once you start chronically dissociating it fucks with your regular every day ability to record and store non traumatic memories, even if by this point a traumatic memory can be "factually" and emotionally preserved whilst also being buried.

So when I look back on my childhood, and I have all these emotional flashbacks from very early childhood and these core beliefs that point to a really shitty life as a baby that I don't have actually memory of, and entire oceans of no memory, and also traumas that happened to me later in life that I do remember even if I've only recently admitted to myself are traumatic, AND a brain that likes to make up alternative subjective narratives through alter formation, AND a desperation to make sense of my life during a very confusing period (system discovery), yeah...my brain made up traumas that didn't happen to me.

When I was reading The Body Keeps the Score because I was dealing with a bunch of somatoform symptoms the early chapters talk a LOT about the prevalence of CSA by family members, and it was honestly kinda invalidating, because as far as I was aware that didn't happen to me so why was I so fucked up? It led to me imagining scenarios of trauma that might have happened to me until something latched on to an unprocessed emotional flashback. It became entangled with that flashback and, in a way, integrated itself into my subjective narrative. It gave meaning to my story, a distressing story, but a story that made sense. The only problem with that is, it doesn't actually make sense. It just isn't compatible with the other versions of my narrative that are contained throughout the rest of the system. I haven't processed and integrated the real trauma, I've just attempted to create a narrative that could serve me in that moment, it was reassuring, it provided a security in the meaning it gave me, but it's only a temporary substitute for real integration of the stuff that's still buried or inaccessible to me.

Maybe I was a victim of CSA, it's definitely possible, but that memory I've "had" just.. Isn't it. And despite community sentiments to believe trauma I would be harming myself to cling onto those memories instead of confronting the true traumatic events through therapy when I'm actually ready to face them. I would be deflecting because believing something I know deep down isn't true is safer than acknowledging what really happened, even if the fake memory is worse than what really happened.

I understand why papers on fictitious DID are concerned with patients freely offering up their trauma when previously DID patients would take years to open up enough to share it. When you get those confession stories of people faking DID there are these repeated elements that come up time and time again. They made up trauma that they freely shared to appear more valid, and despite no longer faking they still sometimes hear their alters. And I think what's happening in these cases isn't actually necessarily that they're faking DID, although obviously you can misdiagnose yourself, but quite possibly community exposure is reinforcing a sociocognitive presentation of DID. One where trauma is this thing that you MUST know about, where alters have deep backstories and a rich biography. This outward protection may very well be a reflection of a deeper but hidden inner experience that seeks to deflect the outside world with a decoy narrative.

This sucks, because from a clinician's perspective whether they affirm it or scrutinise it, if the patient refuses to let go of the decoy to reveal what's underneath therapy work is largely fruitless. Sar and Ozturk seem to be the only practitioner's to have correctly highlighted this in Functional Dissociation of the Self. They recognise the uncanny ability of the Dissociative system to deflect and divert therapy work through substitute beliefs and multiple realities and highlight the value of cutting through all that to get to the hidden psychological self that's able to create the cohesive integrated narrative that allows the system to truly recover.

So I have to ask myself, is the "version" of DID I believe I have and present to others an accurate depiction of what's going on? Or is it a convenient substitution of self that I use to deflect from what's really going on? How is the community influencing this presentation and my need to cling onto it to fit in? And is my participation in the online system community harming me in the long run because it helps reinforce my substitute beliefs about myself to fit in with them without putting in the real work to really understand myself?

I'm mostly making this as a self call out post for accountability, because I think I need to step away. If I keep posting them I've failed because honestly I feel kinda lost without it and that's scary. Hopefully, this will be the last y'all hear from me in a while so I wish y'all well. Or I'll see you tomorrow

[romerona]

Chapter 4: The hippogriff incident.

ᴇᴠᴇʀʏᴏɴᴇ ᴋɴᴏᴡꜱ ᴛʜᴇ ꜱᴀʏɪɴɢ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ʏᴏᴜ ɴᴇᴠᴇʀ ʀᴇᴀʟʟʏ ꜰɪɴᴅ ʟᴏᴠᴇ, ɪᴛ ꜰɪɴᴅꜱ ʏᴏᴜ. ꜰᴏʀ ʟᴏᴠᴇ ᴇᴍᴇʀꜱᴏɴ, ʟᴏᴠᴇ ᴅɪᴅɴ'ᴛ ʀᴇᴀʟʟʏ ꜰɪɴᴅ ʜᴇʀ, ɪᴛ ᴍᴏʀᴇ ꜱᴏ ᴋɴᴏᴄᴋᴇᴅ ʜᴇʀ ᴏꜰꜰ ʜᴇʀ ꜰᴇᴇᴛ… ʟɪᴛᴇʀᴀʟʟʏ.

Harry James Potter x OC

Masterlist.

----------------------------------------

"So, this is the infamous monster book?" Asked Love as the three Ravenclaws made their way down the sloping lawns to the edge of the Forbidden Forest where Hagrid's hut was.

"Tis I, in all my monstery glory." Padma grabbed the rope-bound, fluffy-looking book and shook it as if it was the one talking, making the book growl at the sudden movement.

"Monstery is not a world, and for Merlin's sake, would you stop shaking it before you lose a hand." Emma sends her a warning look.

"Kill joy."

Padma rolled her eyes and passed the book back to Love who examined it further, the four eyes were closed as if it was resting, it had weird fangs hanging from the edges of the book, which could probably cause plenty of damage giving the opportunity, and the mouth was the biting the pages of the book, function as a lock.

"What a funny-looking book." She mumbled. Had she been clueless about the reputation of the book, Love would have to try to open it as any other book but now, it was obvious that it wouldn't work for this book.  "Any clues on how to open it?" 

"I know how to," Emma exclaimed, earning the girl's attention. "Well, given that it's a book with... living characteristics, I suspect they don't appreciate it if you just open them rudely, like any other animal, they can feel, so you need to sweeten them Into opening."

Love hums tilting her head, and looking down at the sleeping book. "Makes sense."

"It does but how do we sweeten them, Mr Wonka?" Padma said, turning to look at Emma, arms crossed.

He rolled his eyes. "How do you get a cat to purr?"

"Are you telling me I need to pet that demon book?" Padma scoffed in disbelief.

"Stroke it." Love and Emma said in unison.

Love turns to Emma quickly "Jinx."

"Shit." Emma groaned, he had only said the first two syllables of the word.

"You owe me a chocolate frog."

"Yeah, yeah," He waved his hand dismissively. "I'll buy you one once we're in Hogsmeade."

They arrived at the hut, where several other students were already there, like Lavender and Parvati who waved at them and Hagrid who was waiting for his class at the door, waiting impatiently for the rest of the class, with his dog, Fang, at his feet.

"Reckons he's going to be a good Professor?" Asked Padma, gazing at the half-giant.

"He is resourceful." Love said, nodding her head with confidence and giving her answers. "And well educated in the care of creatures, as we all know."

"Yeah, but is he going to make a great teacher, though?" Padma said, lips tightening. "It takes more than just skill to be one."

"Well, that is true but this is also his first year of teaching, so I can't give you a factual answer but I have faith he will."

"Yeah, let's give him the benefit of the doubt," Emma said, nodding his head solemnly.

Familiar laughter caught Love's attention, glancing back, she saw Draco Malfoy, Crabbe, Goyle and Pansy all cackling at something the bleach blonde was telling them, it was not until he pretended to pass out again did she know the reason why.

"Merlin, can't they just let it go?" Love mumbles, rolling her eyes.

Padma glanced at them too. "What is a Slytherin if not malicious?"

"I don't think they're malicious, just... they like to tease a lot." Love said, turning back her head to look at the hut.

"They bully people a lot, you mean," Emma mumbles, annoyance mixing in his tone. He had been a subject of their bullying once or twice before.

Love purses her lips, "Not all of them, Theo Nott and Blaise Zabini are one of the plenty who doesn't do that."

"That we know of, they can be sneaky as a snake, the lot of them." Padma shrugged.

"C'mon, now, get a move on!" Hagrid called as the last of the class approached interrupting their conversation. "Got a real treat for yeh today! Great lesson comin' up! Everyone here? Right, follow me!"

"Where do you think he's taking us?" Asked Love, following Hagrid.

Emma frowns, looking ahead. "I just hope it's not the forbidden forest."

"Of course, he won't take us there," Padma said as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. "It's forbidden for a reason, Dumbledore wouldn't let it happen."

"Well, you never know."

Thankfully, they were right, he didn't take them to the forest, after a few minutes of strolling at the edge of the trees, they found themselves outside a kind of paddock but it was empty.

"Everyone gather 'round the fence here!" he called. "That's it -- make sure yeh can see -- now, firs' thing yeh'll want ter do is open yer books --"

"How?" said the drawling voice Draco.

"Eh?" Hagrid blinked.

"How do we open our books?" Malfoy repeated. He took out his copy of The Monster Book of Monsters, which he had bound shut with a length of rope.

Love noticed that the only book not bound to anything was Emmanuel's who had it under his arm.

"Hasn' -- hasn' anyone bin able ter open their books?" said Hagrid, looking crestfallen.

Emma looked at his feet, his teeth biting into his lip, making Love frown. Emmanuel was brilliant, he could solve a riddle in a matter of seconds,  he could have the answer to a question before you even ask it, and he could recite books word for word, but his enemy was no one else but himself.

Love had come to find out over the two years she had met him that Emmanuel is not all that grumpy, he's just really shy and he's scared of what others think of him, which holds him back from doing plenty of things, like, for example, saying out loud he had been able to open the book when no one else had.

"Yeh've got ter stroke 'em," said Hagrid, as though this was the most obvious thing in the world. "Look --"

He took Hermione Granger's copy and ripped off the Spellotape that bound it. The book tried to bite, but Hagrid ran a giant forefinger down its spine, and the book shivered, and then fell open and lay quiet in his hand.

Padma leaned against Emma and whispered. "You're right after all."

"Of course I was." He whispered back, rolling his eyes.

"Oh, how silly we've all been!" Malfoy sneered, gaining the trio's attention. "We should have stroked them! Why didn't we guess!"

"I -- I thought they were funny," Hagrid said uncertainly.

"Oh, tremendously funny!" Draco huffs sarcastically. "Really witty, giving us books that try and rip our hands off!"

Love sighs, tired of Draco's behaviour and feeling guilty towards Hagrid for some reason, who was looking downcast.

"Damn Malfoy." Emmanuel rolled his eyes, holding back his sneer.

"Righ' then," said Hagrid, who seemed to have lost his thread, "so -- so yeh've got yer books an'...an'...now yeh need the Magical Creatures. Yeah. So I'll go an' get 'em. Hang on..."

He strode away from them into the forest and out of sight.

"Have you got it?" Love asks Padma, who was struggling against the book.

Padma grunts, trying to run her finger over the spine. "Yeah, it's just a pickle."

"Let me help." Love giggled as she tried her best to help the struggling girl.

Finally, they did it and the book opened up at last, leaving a panting Padma in the process.

"God, this place is going to the dogs," said Malfoy loudly, and at this point most of the class ignored him. "That oaf teaching classes, my father'll have a fit when I tell him --"

"Shut up, Malfoy," Harry Potter snapped.

"Oop, dog fight," Padma whispered, making Love nudge her ribs but hide a small amused smirk.

"Careful, Potter, there's a Dementor behind you --"

"Oooooooh!" squealed Lavender Brown interrupting about every conversation with the loud sound, pointing toward the opposite side of the paddock.

Love gasps as she watches a dozen creatures trotting towards them. They had the bodies, hind legs, and tails of horses, but the front legs, wings, and heads of what seemed to be giant eagles, with cruel, steel-coloured beaks and large, brilliantly, orange eyes. The talons on their front legs were half a foot long and deadly looking. Each of the beasts had a thick leather collar around its neck, which was attached to a long chain, and the ends of all of these were held in the vast hands of Hagrid, who came jogging into the paddock behind the creatures.

"Woah." Love mumbles, staring at the animal in awe and admiration.

"Gee up, there!" he roared, shaking the chains and urging the creatures toward the fence where the class stood. Everyone drew back slightly as Hagrid reached them and tethered the creatures to the fence.

"Hippogriffs!" Hagrid roared happily, waving a hand at them. "Beau'iful, aren' they?"

Emma did a small victory pump. "Knew it."

Yeah, the Hippogriffs were gorgeous with their gleaming coats, changing smoothly from feather to hair, each of them a different colour: stormy grey, bronze, pinkish roan, bone white, gleaming chestnut, and inky black.

"So," said Hagrid, rubbing his hands together and beaming around, "if yeh wan' ter come a bit nearer..."

Love purses her lips, there was a big part of her that told her to jump off the fence and head straight towards them but the logical part of her brain was a lot more hesitant to do so, after all, they're still wild magical animals.

She decided against it, she could learn about the creatures from the place she was.

"Now, firs' thing yeh gotta know abou' Hippogriffs is, they're proud," said Hagrid. "Easily offended, Hippogriffs are. Don't never insult one, 'cause it might be the last thing yeh do."

Simple enough.

"Yeh always wait fer the Hippogriff ter make the firs' move," Hagrid continued. "It's polite, see? Yeh walk toward him, and yeh bow, an' yeh wait. If he bows back, yeh're allowed ter touch him. If he doesn' bow, then get away from him sharpish, 'cause those talons hurt."

"Right -- who wants ter go first?"

Love felt Emma's hand on her elbow as he took a step back bringing her with him, she didn't stop him as the thought of being near the creature was slightly frightening, even more so when the Hippogriffs were tossing their fierce heads and flexing their powerful wings; they didn't seem to like being tethered like this.

"No one?" said Hagrid, with a pleading look.

"I'll do it," said Harry, making all the heads turn to him.

"Didn't you tell us your divination Professor predicted his demise?" Padma asked, gazing over to Harry.

"Yep." Love nodded in confirmation, frowning at Harry Potter, the brave fool.

Harry climbed over the paddock fence.

Emma shook his head in wordless disappointment. "Gryffindors just don't listen, do they?"

"Apparently not."

"Good man, Harry!" roared Hagrid. "Right then -- let's see how yeh get on with Buckbeak."

He untied one of the chains, pulled the grey Hippogriff away from its fellows, and slipped off its leather collar. There was a tense air around the class, most of them just waiting for something awful to happen. Love on the other hand was intrigued by the plenty of ways this could go down.

"Easy now, Harry," said Hagrid quietly yet most of the class heard him. "Yeh've got eye contact, now try not ter blink... Hippogriffs don' trust yeh if yeh blink too much..."

Harry was looking, staring at the Hippogriff, not blinking as Hagrid had instructed him, the class watches with their heart in their hand as Buckbeak had turned his great, sharp head and was staring at Harry.

"Tha's it," said Hagrid. "Tha's it, Harry... now, bow."

Harry's hesitation was tangible even from where Love was standing, but like a great Griffindor, he courageously did as he was told. He gave a short bow and then looked up.

The Hippogriff was still staring haughtily at him. It didn't move.

"Ah," said Hagrid, sounding worried. "Right -- back away, now, Harry, easy does it --"

But then, to everyone's relief and surprise, the Hippogriff bent its scaly front knees and sank into what was an unmistakable bow.

"Well done, Harry!" said Hagrid, ecstatic. "Right -- yeh can touch him! Pat his beak, go on!"

Harry moved slowly toward the Hippogriff and reached out toward it. He patted the beak several times and the Hippogriff closed its eyes lazily, as though enjoying it.

"Merlin, I thought he was going to get eaten." Padma breaths out, clapping

Emma made a face. "That would have been gruesome."

Love nodded while clapping her hands along with the rest of the class, Harry turned his head towards the class, his eyes locking with hers, she gave him a quick thumbs up with a tight awkward smile when his eyes didn't break contact, and regretting it after and cringing on the inside.

'Why did she do that?'

"Righ' then, Harry," said Hagrid, stopping the clapping. "I reckon he migh' let yeh ride him!"

"Oof," Emma mumbles, grimacing at the thought of riding a hippogriff as if it was him the one being asked to do it.

"Yeh climb up there, jus' behind the wing joint," said Hagrid, "an' mind yeh don' pull any of his feathers out, he won' like that..."

The class watched him as he put his foot on the top of Buckbeak's wing and hoisted himself onto its back. Buckbeak stood up and the class tense, all in unison.

"Go on, then!" roared Hagrid, slapping the hippogriff's hindquarters.

Without warning, twelve-foot wings flapped open on either side of Harry, he just had time to seize the Hippogriff around the neck before he was soaring upward.

The class oh's and gasps in awe as they look up at the blue sky as the Hippogriff took the boy for a ride around the paddock.

"You don't think we'll all have to do that, do you?" Emma asked, looking up at the flying creature.

Love shrugged, eyes on the large wings. "I wouldn't mind if we do."

"I'll ride with you," Padma added quickly. "No- no, I take that back. I want to ride alone."

"Fine, your loss."

The class watched as the Hippogriff descended, and steadily landed back inside the paddock.

The Gryffindors were cheering even before he had landed, urging the other houses to do the same. Love, once again, found herself clapping although a little more enthusiastic than before, the Gryffindor spirit washing over her in waves.

"Good work, Harry!" roared Hagrid, a proud smile on his face. "Okay, who else wants a go?"

"Come on." Love grabbed her friend's wrist and climbed into the paddock, excitement bubbling within her.

Hagrid untied the Hippogriffs one by one, Love's hippogriff was the bone white one, golden colour at the end of the feathers of each wing, and ever so pigmented green eyes, almost like neon.

"Be careful," Emma told her as she slowly approached the Hippogriff, everything Hagrid said was repeating like a broken record in her head.

Her eyes stared at the green ones, and never once blinking she bowed her head carefully. The Hippogriff regarded her for a moment making Love's breath stuck in her throat but then, it bent its knees to her in a bow.

Love smiled in relief, she was careful but instead of patting the beak as many were doing Love patted the side of its neck, as she did with Peggy. Soon the Hippogriff was tilting its head towards her hand, obviously wanting more and Love was more than happy to oblige.

She had been too immersed in her Hippogriff to notice Malfoy's voice, not until he had let a high-pitched scream she did, making her gasp and turn from the creature to the source of the commotion.

She watches as Hagrid wrestler Buckbeak back into his collar as he strained to get at Malfoy, who lay curled in the grass, blood blossoming over his robes.

Concern waves over her as she watches Draco struggle on the floor.

"Holy shit," Padma said as she made her way toward Love with Emma not far behind.

"I'm dying!" He yelled as the class panicked. "I'm dying, look at me! It's killed me!"

"Yer not dyin'!" said Hagrid, who had gone very white. "Someone help me -- gotta get him outta here --"

Love was quick to act, she ran to hold open the gate as Hagrid lifted Draco easily and as they passed, Love got to see a long, deep gash on his arm making her worry further as blood splattered the grass and Hagrid ran with him, up the slope toward the castle.

"What happened?" Love asked Emmanuel and Padma as they walked behind Hagrid, ignoring the Slytherins shouting about Hagrid.

"They should sack him straight away!" said Pansy Parkinson, who was in tears.

"It was Malfoy's fault!" snapped Dean Thomas. Crabbe and Goyle flexed their muscles threateningly.

"The instructions were clear, he didn't follow them, it's his fault." Anthony Goldstein, a Ravenclaw yelled at them.

"Why are you taking their side, Goldstein?" Someone asked but Love couldn't care less as she turned to her friends expectantly.

"Malfoy being Malfoy." Padma rolled her eyes, hoisting her satchel up her shoulder.

"He was saying rude things to the Hippogriff, and well, Buckbeak didn't take it lightly and rightfully so." Emma crossed his arms, "Honestly, he had it coming."

"Emmanuel." Love scowled, making him throw his arms up in defeat.

"Listen, I know you two are acquaintances for some reason, but that doesn't make it any less true." He defended himself.

Love rolled her eyes, ignoring the comment as they all climbed the stone steps into the deserted entrance hall.

"I'm going to see if he's okay!" said Pansy, and they all watched her run up the marble staircase.

The Slytherins, were still muttering about Hagrid, headed away in the direction of their dungeon common room, the Gryffindors were muttering it was Draco's fault on their way to their tower and the Ravenclaws were silently agreeing with both Houses, first it was risky to interact with such creatures but Hagrid did give them all detailed, easy instructions in how not to end up stumped over like Draco was.

"I just hope he's alright." Love mumbles once she's inside the common room.

Padma threw her arm around the girl. "I'm sure the wimp's fine, now would we start searching for wanderlust?"

🤍

Harry, Hermione and Ron were among the first to reach the Great Hall at dinnertime, hoping to see Hagrid, but he wasn't there, but someone else was.

"Harry, isn't that your father and uncle?" Asked Hermione once they sat down at the Gryffindor table.

James Potter and Sirius Black sitting on the Professor's table, on each side of Remus Lupin. Harry frowned, as he watched his dad talk amicably with Professor McGonagall, and his uncles talking with each other, wondering why they were there.

"Yeah..." he sighs and chooses to ignore them until they, inevitably, come to him.

Ron frowns in confusion. "What do you reckon they 're here for?"

"I think it's because of the dementor incident yesterday," Hermione said, glancing at Harry who rolled his eyes.

"Brilliant." He muttered sarcastically, a hand running down his face, just what he needed, and no doubt they'll hear all about Trelawney's prediction too.

The students began to flood inside the Hall, but while his peers sat next to him he heard his father make loud calls of his name, making him grimace.

"Harry!" He yelled at the top of his lungs, waving his hand like a madman. "Harry, son— Harry!"

Harry's cheeks reddened as he turned to his father with a glare, who only smiled mischievously and sent him a wink. Of course, he had done that on purpose, his father lived for embarrassing his son.

Thankfully, the feast soon began, and they all tucked in, people around them were talking about the incident at Care Of Magical Creatures.

"They wouldn't fire him, would they?" said Hermione anxiously, not touching her steak-and-kidney pudding.

"They'd better not," said Ron, who wasn't eating either.

Harry was watching the Slytherin table. A large group including Crabbe and Goyle was huddled together, deep in conversation. Harry was sure they were cooking up their own version of how Malfoy had been injured.

"Well, you can't say it wasn't an interesting first day back," said Ron gloomily.

Once the feast was done Harry tried to follow the Gryffindor students back to their common room but he was detained by his father.

"Harry, there you are," said his father, stopping him from taking a step further along the staircase. He turned to his friend with his ever warm welcoming smile. "Hermione, Ron, nice to see you again."

"You too, Mr Potter." Hermione politely smiled back whilst Ron grinned waving his hand. "Mr Potter."

"Two years and you still call me Mr Potter, it's just James," he smiled at them before motioning his head down at his son. "Would you two mind if I borrow this handsome devil for a minute?"

"Of course not," Hermione said, sending Harry a quick smile.

Ron nods. "See you in the common room, mate."

And with that, they were gone.

"What are you doing here?" Harry asks, slightly annoyed.

Sirius suddenly appeared on his other side, holding a hand to his chest theatrically. "Ouch, that's not a way to greet your favourite uncle."

"I don't see uncle moony around..."

The older man gasps and sends him an over-dramatic, betrayed look. "After everything we've done together? I'm just tossed aside like an unwanted chocolate frog card, you are a cruel godson."

Harry gave him a deadpan look, before looking between his dad and uncle. "What are you doing here?"

"We just wanted to check up on you," James admits, concerned eyes roaming his son's form. "Remus sent us a letter yesterday, about what happened on the train,"

"We were worried, Harry," Sirius told him.

Harry sighs, first Madam Pomfrey thinks he's delicate, then Malfoy and his cronies' constant teasing and now his father and uncle.

"I'm fine, there's no need for this visit." He said hotly.

Sirius purses his lips. "We just wanted to make sure."

"Again, I'm all right."

"And we know that now," James said, placing a hand on his shoulder. "Which reminds me that your mum is so mad you didn't owl her, don't worry I kept her from sending a howler, but there's only so much I can do, son."

"I didn't think it was a big deal." Harry shrugged, feeling slightly guilty for worrying his mother. "Tell mum, I'm sorry."

"She knows." James smiled, letting him go. "Now go on, to bed, I'm sure you're tired."

Harry purses his lips, thinking to say that he's not a child anymore for him to send to bed but he was tired so he just nodded, giving him a quick smile, he waves at his father and uncle before beginning the climb the stairs again but just at another step–

"Oh and Harry,"

The boy turns to face his family in expectation, just as the staircase moved out of place making him stumble a little.

James and Sirius grinned at each other. "You'll see us around more often,"

"What?" He shouted as the distance between them was getting longer yet he was sure he would have still yelled regardless of the distance.

"Yeah, just a few times a week, for security things, you know." Sirius shrugged innocently with a less innocent smirk on his face.

"No," He grumbles, leaning against the railing.

"We love you too."

Once Harry finally arrived at his crowded Gryffindor common room, he sat with Hermione and Ron and told them his latest news reluctantly as they tried to do the homework Professor McGonagall had given them, Hermione thought it was a brilliant Idea, more security while Ron just nodded in agreement, he likes to have Harry's father and uncle around, as does Harry but not all the time, eventually, they all turn back to their work but all three of them kept breaking off and glancing out of the tower window.

"There's a light on in Hagrid's window," Harry said suddenly.

Ron looked at his watch.

"If we hurried, we could go down and see him. It's still quite early..."

"I don't know," Hermione said slowly, and Harry saw her glance at him.

"I'm allowed to walk across the grounds," he said pointedly. "Peter Pettigrew hasn't got past the Dementors yet, has he?"

So they put their things away and headed out of the portrait hole, glad to meet nobody on their way to the front doors, as they weren't entirely sure they were supposed to be out.

🤍

Meanwhile, on the other side of the castle, Love Emerson entered the Hospital Wing, looking for a certain bleach blonde, yet not entirely happy to see him.

"Draco, you're such daft." She announced herself, as she approach his bed, noticing the bandages on his right arm.

Draco looked up from the book he was reading, probably one that one of his friends brought for him, and scoff rolling his eyes once he saw her. "I'm on a hospital bed and that's the first thing you say to me, nice to know I'm appreciated."

"It's not like you deserve any sympathy coming from me," Love told him, eyes hardening. "As a matter of fact, I shouldn't even be here even less talking to you, as I remember you said 'I don't even know why am I speaking with you, Emeron' sounds familiar?"

Draco purses his lips, looking uncharacteristically guilty. "I didn't mean it, Crabbe and Gole were there and–"

"Right, because you being friends with a muggle-born is such a scandal." She crosses her arms, eyes cold as they stared down at Draco.

"It's complicated and you know that, " He sighs, his book long forgotten. " Regardless, I shouldn't have said that, it was just at the sprung of the moment."

Love pursed her lips, thinking back at the previous year when she was assigned to sit next to him in charms, he was a right brat at first, making comments here and there which Love just ignored or say a few herself back. After a few classes together, Love realized that his gradings in the class were not great, she didn't say anything about it though, not until Professor Flitwick commented on them, asking Love to help him just a few times after class. To tutor him.

At first, of course, both refused profoundly but the old professor told Love that he'll give her extra credit if she did and reminded Draco that all Quidditch players needed a certain level of grades in school to be on the team, so reluctantly they ended up in a secluded part of the library, – per his request– for his tutoring.

It was hard at first, as expected, but after a little, while both became somewhat of acquaintances, Love made him realize that both of them benefited from these tutoring sessions and it was not like anyone would see them and eventually they became friends which led them to share a few things with one another.

Draco's attitude changed towards her a bit when she told him she was adopted, Love was well aware of why the factor changed things for him, of his perspective of her, because her true lineage was unknown, open to be anything, even pureblood. On the other hand, Love found out that Draco Malfoy was much more than he let on, he was complicated, and he was brought up in a cold, closeminded household which unfortunately, in the muggle world that's pretty common, Love herself had received a few nasty comments for it, because of who her family is but she believes people like that are just guided in life wrongly and can change given the chance, so, she gave Draco a chance.

But of course, Rome wasn't built in a day, there was an unspoken condition for the friendship to happen. They never talked if not in private, because Draco Malfoy, the pureblooded Slytherin would be the laugh of his house if was seen interacting more than necessary with a muggle-born girl.

Love didn't think the whole blood thing was that deep, both of them are humans, bleed red, have warm blood, have the same organs, and feel things, but alas she let him be for the sake of their friendship but that doesn't mean she's going to forgive everything he does or say, there have been a few occasions where he crosses a line and she had to set him straight like she was currently doing.

"I didn't mean it, Love, really, it's just... my friends wouldn't understand." Draco moved forwards and grabbed her forearm with his good one, making her look at him

"Oh, alright." Love sighs, arms going limp to her side before taking his hand on hers. "I forgive you, but I really don't like that lot you hang with, Crabbe's aggressive."

"He just has half a brain cell, don't hold it against him,"

Love snorted, shaking her head, she sat down on the near chair, "So, how are you feeling?"

"It comes and goes, Madam Pomfrey said I could have lost my arm," Draco said, struggling to hold her bandaged arm up for her to see.

Love narrows her eyes, knowing her friend likes to add more than necessary to the stories. "Lost a limb? Draco get serious."

"I am, that... beast could've ripped it off." He sneered, eyes going cold. "All because of that bloody halfbreed–"

"Draco." Love snapped, eyes narrowing, she absolutely despised it when he spoke like that, and he knew and yet it always slipt.

He rolled his eyes, "I'm hoping he gets sacked."

"Oh, for Rowena's sake Draco, he doesn't deserve that, can't you just leave the man alone?"

"Look at me, Love," He snapped, eyes narrowing. "He's not fit to be a professor."

"We don't know that yet, but... "she sighs knowing it would be useless to talk to him at the moment when he's still hot and bothered about what happened. "Whatever, let's talk about something else, like, how were your holidays?"

"Good," He shrugged, as if it was nothing special had happened. "Went to my summer manor in France, Pansy came over repeatedly, wouldn't stop following me around, it was vexing and the worst of all, mother thinks we're getting married,"

"Ah, just imagine, Pansy Malfoy, the lady of the Malfoy Manor, how nice." Love said in a dreamy voice, hands clapping together in fake fascination.

"Stop, that'll never happen," Draco shuddered, before grabbing her hand once again. "What about you?"

"Well, my holidays were also pretty great," She said, smiling at the memories, "Went to Singapore and then visit my grandparents, it was actually refreshing to visit them for a change."

"You look different this year." He told her suddenly.

Love's smile wavered, mind subconsciously racing,  "What do you mean?"

"Just..." He looked down at their hands and shrugged. "Different."

"Why thank you, Draco." She rolled her eyes, pursing her lips."It's just probably my stress levels taking over."

"Why are you stressed about? Classes had just started bloody Ravenclaws."

"I lost my journal, and I can't find it anywhere." Love's face turns into a distressed expression.

"Well, when did you last see it?" Draco asks, sitting up slightly.

"Ugh, no don't start, I already turn my head over because of that question, I refuse to go through that again, at least not tonight."

Draco rolled his eyes, leaning back against his pillow. "Don't worry your head that much, it is just a book."

"It's not just that–"

That's when Madam Pomfrey came by, interrupting their conversation.

"Dear, visiting hours are over, you must leave for him to get some rest and recover."

"Sorry, Madam Pomfrey, I'll take my leave then." Love smiled at her politely nodding her head before turning to Draco with a small smile, "Curfew's calling,"

He squeezes her hand, smiling at her softly. "I'll see you later, alright?."

"Sure."

And with that, she left but not before giving Madam Pomfrey one last polite smile.

A/N: Hope to enjoy the chapter. Please, tell me if you want to get tagged.

[nation-of-bros]

Your gay group is weird. Really, you want turn women into men. The birth rate in Europe is already low and reducing it even more by converting women into men is idiotic.

Another thing is you want manly women? No straight guy wants to date another man. A man wants to date a woman because she is feminine. If she's dating a guy, he's gay.Your little community is all gay and nothing else.

And in the end, as we can see, germany never changes. Once upon a time, the ideal representative of the Aryan race was a tall, blue-eyed blond man. Now you're trying to create the ideal man (bro) as a muscular, animal-haired muslim. And of course, it's best for everyone to drop their nationalities in order to create an idiotic gay community.

I will not mention this post about torturing a Ukrainian. Germans just like to torment others (non bros or whatever you called it).

I don't think I've seen such sick ideas for a new community in a long time.

When I read your blah blah, I kept thinking of this video:

Instead of getting upset about my blog: Date a "feminine woman" and do something about the low white birth rate yourself. There are enough super feminine women out there. But maybe you're too poor and gay for that yourself, and instead squirt your cum in a handkerchief while scrolling through tumblr. ^^

I'm going to address your objections factually, although I really don't feel like it. But it still has to be done:

—

Yes, the Germans are such a terrible nation. They torment you with so much money that you get; not to mention their cultural and technological achievements that brought mankind forward. Yes, people all around the world really suffer a lot from the evil Germans who take in millions of refugees: 2/3 of all current welfare recipients in Germany are Ukrainians, by the way! And they contribute absolutely NOTHING, they just eat the hair off the heads! So before you open your fucking mouth, deal with the real circumstances!

Your sympathy for that corrupt piece of shit somewhere in Eastern Europe disqualifies you for good. I guess you're a white supremacist cheering on Ukrainian neo-nazis against evil Igor?

The fact that you still took a close look at my blog suggests that you are at least somewhat attracted to men. You may be telling yourself that you're being totally straight when you're not.

However, you didn't understand the logic at all. I don't want to change the current society, because it cannot be changed. I'm talking about separation. That's a totally other approach.

By the way, I never use the term "gay", because gay means much more than just being homosexual or bisexual, it also has a political meaning that I absolutely do not share. That's why I also speak of an androphilic community, where masculinity and male values are central. You don't see the benefits behind it. Instead, in the existing conservative thinking, you mourn the old ways, which only worked to a limited extent when there were no contraceptives. Even Iran proves this, where women are still oppressed and pushed into a female role, but the birth rate is far too low.

Testosterone also makes women sexually willing; much more willing than your petite super feminine dolls. I therefore want to improve women without losing their female sexuality! Femininity should be reduced to a biological minimum and optimized in this state. So there emerges a clear evolutionary advantage, especially when the division of society is overcome: Instead of umpteen genders, there is only the masculine, whether with a cock or a pussy hidden under a dicklet. Thus, my concern is to develop a better working alternative. Yes, I'll admit it might seem pretty weird to an outsider. But weirder than our current society? Weirder than the literal interpretation of the Bible and the morality derived from it? Weirder than anything before?! I do not think so!

Every kind of society started out with a mere idea. Just think of Karl Marx, who shaped the world with his new ideas like no other; whether it was good or bad is anyone's guess (I'm not a communist, but I'm not a fervent supporter of capitalism either). In this sense, every change begins with just a thought and the will behind it.

[dzpenumbra]

1/10/23

Weird day. Just... off. I woke up after about 5-6 hours of sleep. Cat really wanted food, wouldn't let me go back to sleep. I got her food, got a Monster and collapsed in my comfy chair, popped my headphones on, put on some mindless YouTube and passed out for another few hours.

Yoga was very chill and low-key today. More about meditation and stillness, relaxation, than strain. But there were a bunch of people making a ton of noise in the hallways while that was happening, which kinda killed the vibe. Can't wait for the earbuds to get here tomorrow.

I showered. I went up to the package room to get my snacks from... Inferno Candy Company. And I will admit, this was a big-time gamble. But I have a hot sauce that is habanero/ghost pepper that I used for a while pretty much every morning, so I'm not completely new to real-deal hot peppers. I got the Brian Ambs DorHEATos - which are absolutely delicious and just within the threshold of bearable heat-wise. And I got a variety pack. And in the variety pack, there is some pretty savage shit. Like... pretty much everything in it has Carolina Reapers in it. And I've never had anything above a Ghost Pepper. So... Tonight, after eating an entire pizza for dinner... I decided to try an "Inferno Cookie" that was labeled as "Snackable to Medium Heat". I can say right off the bat, I took a little bite of this thing, it is 100% hotter than the Dorheatos, which they classified as Medium heat. It was absolutely hotter. It has both Scorpion and Reapers in it. That thing lit my mouth up real quick.

It wasn't unbearable, it was very similar to a habanero sting, so I'm guessing that was the Scorpion I was feeling? I'm still very new to the spicy world. But yeah, I don't know man, I might've gotten myself in over my head a bit! Maybe I'll keep them around for like... fun novelty challenges for all the visiting friends I have over, so if they feel like puking or uncontrollably shitting in my bathroom, they're just one golden packaged snack away from their wish come true.

My mom called around dinner time. And as I picked up, I went "I should really make dinner while I talk to her." (spoiler alert - I got distracted and didn't) And when I got up to go to the kitchen, I noticed a letter under my door. It was an unpaid bill. And I got really stressed and overwhelmed. Those feelings just hit me so damn hard sometimes. And the number on the bill was a lot bigger than I was expecting. And my mom just started doing what she reflexively does... the same thing she did with my internet account when I was locked out of my router, which caused the last catastrophic fight... just starts... doing shit without telling me. Just like, taking control of the situation and ordering me to help her. It did not go well for like... at least an hour or two, but something broke through the wall. I have no clue what it was. I don't remember. I even remember discussing with her this phenomenon of coming to some profound realization in an important conversation and then later that day it's just... gone. And how that's why I started using that moment as an opportunity to train new habits, rather than try to hold on to the lesson and train new habits later. But yeah, we kinda unraveled that it's kinda just... how she's used to dealing with problems around her house, I guess? With my dad. That it's better to just... take over and shut him up than to try and help him figure it out himself, because he has very little desire to learn. It feels like I'm talking shit when I say that, but it's factually accurate, it's a weird one. Like... if he didn't come up with it? He doesn't wanna learn it. I think it's a pride thing. I dunno. It's so alien to me.

So yeah, we got it resolved, which is good, but ugh. It just that snowball effect. I get stressed out - my stress sets off my "support's" defense mechanisms - I have to help my "support" calm down - then I have to calm myself down - then I have to deal with the problem that started it all, usually alone. It has led me very often to this lament of like... "wouldn't I be better off alone?" "Wouldn't it be better if I just... didn't express my emotions?" "Wouldn't it be safer if I kept my feelings to myself?" And... yeah. I can see how I would've grown up that way. It took me many years and a lot of constant training to be able to express my inner voice as authentically and confidently as I do. I've always been pretty in touch with my feelings, but... internally. Because expressing them outwardly... Let's just say some people aren't too fond of emotions. Some people like to carve the world into black and white - rational and irrational. And drain all the color out of it. All the feeling, all the romance, all the experience. And then they wonder why they don't understand their own feelings... Go figure. Imagine finding a balance... <shrug>

I'm fuckin wiped. I passed out in my comfy chair again after dinner for like an hour. I played a little Session. Now I'm getting ready for bed at 3:30 again. Ugh. I'll get this sleep thing stable someday, I swear.

[catty-words]

(Also if you don't mind I'm gonna talk to you about crazy ex girlfriend if you don't mind) Favorite Rebecca x Nathaniel moments so far and hopes for season 3 (this ship might be a new obsession for me but idk yet)? Like with the masquerade and the REBECCA IN HIS ARMS UGH I CANT WAIT

mind?? friend, this is currently my favorite topic in the world. in fact, are you sure you’re ready to fall down this rabbit hole with me?……….too late, i’m taking you anyway.

favorite rebecca/nathaniel moments (in chronological order):

when rebecca calls him confident self-assured and conventionally handsome (she can look at paula funny when she calls him good looking all she wants, but rebecca noticed how attractive nathaniel was Right Away) and he does that fun head tilt thing that’s kinda adorable?

nathaniel pretty much immediately deciding that josh isn’t good enough for rebecca (oh you’re dating another guy? not the human flip-flop who was in the office before?)

his pleased and impressed smile that rebecca’s secured a big meeting with a client

rebecca not being able to shut up about nathaniel even though josh is trying really hard to have sex

just…everything about the dinner with the chans

THE PEN CHASE. god. that scene actually makes me giddy. rebecca’s righteous fury and nathaniel’s reaction to her every sentence…him not being able to resist taking another dig at josh…him noticing how nimble she is…the fact that he’s actually scared of her…the tackle…THE FACT THAT REBECCA IS TURNED ON BY IT AND WANTS TO ROLE PLAY THE SAME SCENARIO AT HOME WITH JOSH

“it’s not a real workout unless your body is convinced it’s being chased by a lion” “mmm, that sounds factual.” [i don’t know why this is a favorite moment of mine. it just is??]

his dumbfounded face because BOOBS @____@

coffee creamer touches

stolen elevator looks

her sarcastic claps after george leaves in a huff and him just being like “yeah.”

i could make a whole other post about all my favorite moments from let’s have intercourse

she’s doing the old timey voice and he is still attracted it’s so confusing

the way he’s, like. so put-out when rebecca suggests they get to know each other instead of having sex. but then she brings up harry potter and he’s like, yeah, let’s talk about this.

the fact that they get cozied up on the elevator floor after (most likely) spending the night sorting their coworkers

aaaaalllllllllllllllllll the eye fucking they do in that short amount of time

“can’t be with cedric if you’re already with ron.” “stop talking dirty.”

the almost kiss gets its own bullet point because laksnds;lgbdsg…made better still by nathaniel’s obvious disappointment once the power comes back on

his entire fucking facial journey between the almost kiss and the actual kiss.

my god, that kiss that kiss THAT KISS

the way he leans in and looks like he’s about to say something after!!!!

“that happened and it won’t happen again” “if you say so” HE REALLY HOPES IT HAPPENS AGAIN

the full-on yearning he does after she walks away from that conversation

the full-on pining he does alone in his office

“i wanted to see you? ha ha ha. NO” come on, dude. pull yourself together (but don’t actually i love you, you mess)

“usually when somebody poops their pants, they gain a little humility” “heard about that huh?

THE HUG the huuuuuuuuuuuug

in summation…all of them?

season 3 wishlist:

a duet

sappy, sappy love song from nathaniel

just any nathaniel-centric song from rebecca

ANOTHER HUG

for her to be vulnerable with him and cry about josh and for him to comfort her

some fwb slowburn shit where they enter into this sex-only relationship with the understanding that rebecca just wants a distraction and nathaniel’s always been about just sex, right? so why should this limited kind of relationship bother him??? except that he truly cares about her and starts to piiiiiiine even harder for something more serious

talk to me about crazy ex girlfriend