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sapphicwhxre · 3 years

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tiny pansy rant, cut short so it’s *hopefully* not too long:

i. wanted. to. see. her. change! and in my opinion the reason she never got the chance was because jkr used her character to make fun of people she disliked :/

pretty much all the other noteable slytherins had some sort of redemption arc,, and yeah they’re still mostly problematic people but they got chances: snape, draco, narcissa, regulus, slughorn, leta and technically andromeda? you get the point i just—

like miss ma’am decided to make pansy,, the like slytherin stereotype? and have her want to betray harry? she was seventeen ffs, not bellatrix lestrange. she was in the middle of a war? in my personal opinion i don’t think that she wanted to hand harry over out of cruelty like. it’s possible? but maybe she was just scared? also don’t we know that pansy was terrified at the thought of like. voldemort coming to hogwarts? again: everyone expects all of the children in harry potter to be these selfless brave individuals,, they’re kids :( yes ik it’s ya fantasy but cmon. they were supposed to be stressed about the N.E.W.T exams not the upheaval of their society?

and don’t get me wrong i know that she was. not a good person. she was a bitchy teenage bully who was taught hateful views. but i wanted to see her change even a little– even draco marries someone who presumably teaches him how to treat people equally? like. there was so much room for change: she was a prefect, she was capable of some kindness seeing as she liked draco, or alternatively, we could’ve seen her break away from draco and potentially stop hating harry/all his friends quite so much or develop her own opinions. or maybe her group of friends that she used for validation throughout her school years was uprooted during the war and she had to learn that independency? or her pointing out harry could’ve been turned into trying to be selfless, like she thought they’d be safe that way, or she returned later fighting with reinforcements to show she was on Hogwarts’ side. jkr is always like "well they technically came back to fight, if you squint » but that’s not enough. also? let’s say we did get a glimpse of her during the actual battle: there could’ve been anything, the smallest scene, that showed some sort of support or reconciliation or something between her and hermione, considering how hermione was often pansy’s target. everybody wants to see forgiveness between draco and harry because of minor events/details (i dislike drarry but that’s besides the point), but imagine what could’ve changed with some semblance of apology or assistance from pansy to hermione. there were so many chances for r*wling to give her a smallest redemption

but instead we got her characterized as evil and a stupid, cowardly traitor. she the only person we ever see her care for marries her friends younger sister. she’s the written depiction of jkr’s bitterness and her arc is jkr’s vengeance.

also, another reason that i’m so mad she got nothing is because of the whole slytherin=evil thing. she’s made into a stereotype of a “slytherin”— cruel, selfish, shallow, ugly, and asinine. (also i could rant about slytherin forever, but can we just mention that jkr consistently refers to slytherins as physically ugly and just how fucked up that is? i– wtf). but anyway: to give pansy a chance to change is to give the slytherin house a chance to change its reputation. trying to justify that the slytherin house got its redemption because of the actions of ppl like snape or regulus, etc isn’t possible. because all of those “slytherin heroes” were described again and again as being “different from all the other slytherins”. they set themselves apart by being decent. they weren’t normal slytherins, no, they were set apart, they were brave and smart and kind— not evil. there’s no redemption to be found there. i wish jkr would just fucking say that being sorted into slytherin was being made into a villain. she dodged around it with rhetorical questions and pointing out how not All of them are bad,, and then will go on to mock the other slytherins and talk about how the heroes were Not Like The Other Snakes... again: there’s no redemption of slytherin as a house, as a quality, as a concept there. it’s just the redemption of an individual.

in pansy, however, we could’ve found so much more. like i said, she’s The Average Slytherin: not a hero, not a villain like voldemort. she’s made out to be a depiction of the typical slytherin student, one without a “destiny”, so to speak. and so to give her the chance, to see her change, to have her redefine herself? that would be a starting point for restoring slytherin as a whole (obviously not the best way, and the real best thing to do would be not to make an entire house be the bad guys in the first place, but–) to have someone who’s the figurehead of slytherin (like actually a figurehead,, girl is a even a prefect) show remorse and growth gives the entire house the seed of redemption. it would mean that after over a thousand years there could be peace between the houses. obviously not the only factor in reconciliation but still so important.

and not to just continue to heap on my own issues with it, but look. i know that there are so many other ways to introduce “mundane” antagonists without making them a symbol of anything. pansy could’ve been a bitch without representing slytherin. also pansy doesn’t have to break character and become kind for amends to be made. they don’t even have to be fully made, just started. but jkr chose to:

a.) go with bullying as a minor antagonistic element

b.) create and develop a character around that theme

c.) make this character only based on her own negative personal experiences

d.) turn that character into a representation of a much larger group of people

e.) deny that character any final moment that could begin to make amends for her actions and instead, chooses to make her “defining” moment an act of evil and cowardice

f.) either neglects the character or chooses plot points that would humiliate the character in all the glimpses of the future we are shown (ex. how dracos marriage is)

g.) openly mocks and insults the character repeatedly and never directly comes out and proves she didn’t write slytherins as evil

h.) to the best of my knowledge, ignores that pansy personifing slytherin, whether intentionally or unintentionally, and then characterizing both as “bad” and not giving them a chance to grow, is a summary of her thoughts on slytherin ls and is a possible interpretation of the text (i mean her opinions are already TRASH)

i. ignores the consequences of this or the possible effect it has on her entire fanbase and doesn’t seek to remedy it

but yeah, jkr, it was such a good idea to base a character off of your loathesone memories, take your anger out on her, and that choose to have that character partially represent a large percentage of your fanbase. thank you sooooo much. i really appreciate it!

summary:

I. Pansy— deserved an opportunity to have some character development. everyone else’s mistakes get overlooked to some degree save hers. had so many places to draw inspiration/opportunity from. could’ve progressed other ideas in the book and the analysis of her house while still remaining a “dislikable” character

II. Writing— from a “technical?” aspect, Pansy is underdeveloped and stagnant, used for personal reasons instead of as a plot device. perpetuates the slytherin=bad idea via a sloppy and repetitive characterization and emblem. there are ways around this that weren’t used.

III. I have no qualifications to be saying any of this lmao. Am I reading to much into it, knowing that Rowling tends to be shitty with writing details? Am I being dramatic and repetitive? probably!

IV. Fuck JKR (for everything. she’s an awful person)

anyways this has been: my mini-rant on pansy and her analysis,,, and i am terribly sorry,, i offer my apologies in advance for randomly dumping this into your inbox. it’s long and opinionated and there’s no real reason behind it! i just thought of it and then thought about it some more and then. here we are

ilysm mwah <3 should’ve definitely done something more productive but shh😭 rat brain hours

this is everything, you're completely right. i don't have much to add but i agree all the way. and people give pansy so much shit for the harry thing but she seemed genuinely scared of voldemort coming back and i really think that she believed he would leave them alone if they gave him up. from her perspective, it's either her and the people she cares about get to live or this guy that she not only isn't close to but probably sees as the bad guy considering she dated/was best friends with draco and witnessed their rivalry from his side. did she make the best decisions? no, not at all but i see her reasons and i don't think it makes her this antichrist that jkr makes her out to be. she pulled the “he's just a boy” with draco and had people sympathise with him when he did so so much worse than pansy did so why doesn't that apply to her? she's a kid. they all are. i love harry, ron, and hermione SO MUCH but jkr really said fuck everyone who isn't them ─ especially any girl who isn't her precious hermione. she projected her own pettiness onto fictional characters who are CHILDREN and proceeded to get upset when people connected to and loved other people that she herself made. creating such an underdeveloped character and expecting people to hate her just because she imagined her as her bully is beyond immature and ridiculous. anyways. jkr take a fucking chill pill and leave my girl alone.

#pansy parkinson

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mrlestrange · 2 years

Photo

character name: Rodolphus Lestrange age & birthday: 34, January 2nd. Capricorn sun, capricorn moon and virgo rising. pronouns: he/him blood status: pureblood faceclaim: Michiel Huisman

Basic Information

Gender & Pronouns: male - He/Him Accent + Intensity: extremely posh

Magical Profile

Wand: Elm, Dragon Heartstring, Unyielding Favorite Spell: Imperius curse Patronus: He can’t produce one, but if he could, it would be a python Amortentia: gold, whiskey, mint, ice Boggart: him being broke and stripped off all of his privileges

Sexuality

Sexuality: straight but slightly curious Shipping: Rod + chemistry Turn Ons: intelligence, confidence, good looks Turn Offs: Stupidity, uselessness, lack of hygiene

Family

Rabastan Lestrange – brother Bellatrix Lestrange - wife

Pets

Salazar - Owl

Background Information

Occupation: financial advisor & lobbyist Residence: England Social Class: High class

Education

Childhood: private tutors Teenage years: Hogwarts House: Slytherin Favorite Subject: Defense against the Dark Arts & Potions Least Favorite Subject: Divination

Personality traits

positive traits: charming, well mannered, clever, meticulous, planner negative traits: sociopath, manipulative, liar, selfish, greedy

KEY POINTS / BIOGRAPHY

I. childhood and hogwarts years:

Nothing but perfection was expected from Rodolphus Lestrange. The new heir of the House Lestrange felt the weight on his shoulders ever since he was born. Every single pair of eyes was on him and every tiny mistake was punished brutally. His family wasn’t known for being loving and his father was not known for being forgiving. He was the heir and he would act as such, even if he would have to curse his son in order to mold him.

As a rich and privileged pureblood kid, he received nothing but the best of the best education. Rod was always a fast learner, very observant and quickly mastered the art of deceiving. He was five years old and he already knew when to smile, when to talk, when to shut up and when to charm everyone with what his tutors taught him or his cute dimples. By the time he got his Hogwarts letter, Rodolphus had everyone wrapped around his little finger. Everyone but his father, who was always demanding more of him, sometimes with cold threats and others with an occasional curse. For his father, it was never enough, at least not behind closed doors.

When he first arrived at Hogwarts, the sorting hat didn’t even touch a single hair of his head before shouting Slytherin.

His popularity only grew in Hogwarts. Rodolphus was a snake charmer, a good looking and popular kid. His dashing smile got girls (and boys) sighing and giggling whenever he walked past them. Rod was Professor Slughorns’ favorite and even managed to obtain a smile from McGonagall once or twice.

With outstanding grades and (apparent) model behavior, Rodolphus became Prefect and Head Boy. He was also the Captain of Slytherin’s quidditch team, where he played as a chaser. In a way, Hogwarts was his kingdom and, while he would never admit that, he was quite heartbroken to leave.

II. during the first wizarding war:

Things got real for Rod when Hogwarts ended. He was betrothed to Bellatrix Black and took the Dark Mark, just as it was expected from him. Was that what he wanted? Not really, but it was what it had to be done, it was what the heir of the House Lestrange was supposed to do. Not that he had anything against Bellatrix, he liked her enough; he just dislikes the idea of not being able to make his own decisions, even as an adult.

Rodolphus was a great asset for Voldemort. His father made sure to train him ever since he was allowed to use a wand, so he is a skilled and accomplished duelist. He was also trained in occlumency and learned plenty of languages.

With his sharp mind and ability to manipulate people, plus all the contacts he got from being who he was and administrating the amount of money that he possessed, Rodolphus managed to not only multiply the family fortune, but to raise secret funds for Lord Voldemort. While his wife was the muscle and the heart, Rodolphus was the brain. He is cold and calculating. He would kill if he has to and he would cover it up so well that it would be untraceable, but he would rather let other people do the dirty work.

Whenever Rodolphus went to a mission, it’s because Voldemort personally asked him to because it had a personal significance, otherwise he would be the brains behind the operation.

Rod isn’t a sadist, he’s not interested in killing muggle-borns or half-breeds, all he truly wanted (and still wants) is power. Power is what he craves and what he oozes. In the financial business, he is known for the hostile take overs and his ruthless behavior when it comes to financial operations. If you are going to handle money, then Rodolphus is the man that should be in your corner.

There is no way a man could increase their fortune in the way he did legally, but no evidence of fraud has ever been found. If there’s something that he knows is how to watch his back and his wife’s and his brother’s. However, if he had to sacrifice one of them to save his own ass, he most absolutely will. He is selfish enough to do that and feels no remorse if he has to do it.

III. where are they now?:

It took a moment for Rodolphus to recover from the Dark Lord’s defeat, not because he missed him, but because it meant he would now have to start over. His name had been associated to Death Eaters and now he has to clean it up as much as he could, even if there was no concrete evidence. Not that he would go around hugging and kissing mudbloods, but he did have to pretend to re-educate himself if he wanted the spotlight away from him and his family.

As usual, all the responsibility fell on his shoulders.

Currently, Rod is still working as a financial advisor, even taking some ad-honorem cases in hopes to clean up his reputation and his family’s name. Would a Death Eater help children orphanages or half-blood entrepreneurs? Exactly.

Another part of his agenda consists on trying to figure out how he can gain more power again and he’s seriously considering on getting involved in politics, but that’s not something that’s decided yet. Rod is a man who prefers to remain in the shadows and would rather not expose himself publicly.

#bio #inspo

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aroaceslytherin · 3 years

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A03 AU HP Fanfic (Finally Here!)

Chapter 1: Karma Killed Her (https://archiveofourown.org/works/31582727/chapters/78143753) (mention of abuse and homophobia, some transphobia)

QUITE LONG

1953 Walburga winced as the maids pulled tighter on her corset. Her nails dug into her palms. Her arms hanging loosely at her sides. Today was her wedding day. Yesterday was the day she had been practicing her posture. Her mother hit her quite a number of times whilst screaming; ‘Upright! Left, right, forward, back. Let him lead! Your wedding must be perfect or else it will surely lead you to a life of solitude!’ For as long as Walburga could remember, she had been a little unsteady on her feet. She would chase her brothers down the hall and clip a corner to close which resulted in bruises on her shoulders, falling on her arse and limping for a week, or that one time she stained her mothers floorboards with a broken nose. That was a day she would never forget. FLASHBACK She could already hear the furious steps of her mother’s heels as they climbed the winding stairs of their manor. “CAMELIA WALBURGA BLACK!” Walburga groaned internally as the witches mended her nose. “Mother, I have told you. I cannot help it that I stumble!” Irma growled, hitting her daughter over the head with her palm. “You need to listen to the etiquette teachers! Practice makes perfect after all, and you are to be the perfect heiress someday! We already have your husband chosen, and I am not having you ruin anything with your clumsy nature! I will see to it you go twice every-day from here on out!” Walburga opened her mouth to protest. Her mother clamped her mouth shut, pushing the medi-witches out of the washroom. “Enough, ladies!” She knelt in front of Walburga, tilting her daughter’s head up so grey eyes met hers. “You are growing up, dear. I cannot have you muddying up your dresses anymore as you chase your brothers ‘round this house! It is unladylike! You are soon to be eleven! Tis’ time you act like a grown woman!” Irma pulled her daughter up and shoved her to the door. “Dinner is downstairs getting cold, I suggest you eat before you get none. AND CLEAN UP YOUR BLOOD BEFORE BED OR YOU GO HUNGRY FOR A WEEK!” END FLASHBACK Walburga tousled her curls through her fingers and admired her dress in the floor-length mirror before she headed out of her bedroom and into the halls. Her heels tapped softly on the hardwood floor as she made her way downstairs. She tripped once she got to the bottom. Though not over herself. “ALPHARD!” She screamed, picking up the two-year-old dressed in a black ruffled dress. She hoisted her on her hip, supporting her with one hand under the baby's bum. Walburga stormed through the house looking for her younger brother just shy of one year. She found him outside in the greenhouse, taking a drag. She groaned, shifting the squirmy brat to her other side.

“Alphard Roland Black!” She yelled through gritted teeth, pushing through the greenhouse doors.

He hadn’t noticed her until she grabbed the cigarette from his mouth and threw it on the ground, stomping on it with her heeled boot; putting it out.

“Fuck’s sake, what?!” Alphard yelled, hands to the side. Walburga thrust the baby into his arms. He took her with a groan of protest and disgust. “I don’t want this.”

“You are on baby duty!” Walburga huffed, crossing her arms and scowling at him. “We expected you to be keeping these kids from being in our way, and you are out here smoking fags?!”

“Why are we doing this? They are Cygnus’ after all! Besides, this whole cousin marrying cousin thing is absurd!” He waved his hand in a circle, rolling his sharp grey eyes.

“Mother is against people knowing he had kids out of wedlock and in his teens. Why are you so against everything she teaches?”

“So is Cygnus!”

“NOT!” Walburga screamed. “He merely broke one rule, you go against everything!” She swiped her hand through the air firmly to signify her point.

“WALBURGA!” Their mother screamed from the porch. “Get back in this house this instant!”

Walburga poked her brother in the chest with her sharp nail painted black. "Watch the brats or I will have your head.” She growled as she hiked up her dress with a huff before heading back to her mother. “Heaven forbid my kids act like him.” She murmured under her breath.

Upon approaching her mother, Irma cast cleaning charms on her then pushed her inside. “I thought I told you to stop going after Alphard, you are twenty-five for crying out loud.”

“He was smoking again and was not watching Bellatrix like you asked. I tripped over her.” She felt her mother’s grip tighten on her shoulder at the mention of her brother with cigarettes again. Walburga shrugged her off and headed to the front parlour with a huff.

***

Hours later everything had gone well. Walburga was proud of herself she had not made a fool of herself as the new Lady Black. There was laughter and chatter between the whole of the Pureblood society and, as suspected, no mud-bloods, half-bloods, or traitors had attended.

Walburga greeted everyone by name; to be polite. She danced gracefully this time (as the bruises, cuts, and welts from her mother had reminded her) with the various partners she had taken up as they moved throughout the ballroom. She felt confident, proud, and more-so like a lady than she had when she woke up that morning.

Walburga jumped in her skin when her brother surprisingly came out of nowhere then grabbed her by the wrist.

Alphard spun his sister into his embrace. She grimaced at his breath.

“You smell like you had gone and drunk all of our liquor." She took his hand and placed a hand on his shoulder as they began to waltz. "Where are the children, brother mine?”

“Sleeping, darling. Don’t you worry.” He smirked that notorious Black lineage smile that most everyone in their family wore proudly. “Congratulations, sis.” He kissed her on the cheek, spinning her twice before dipping her. “I am afraid I may have to leave permanently.”

“What?!” She hissed quietly, pulling herself up before darting her grey eyes around the vast room to make sure no one around her heard. “You cannot! Must you?”

Alphard brought the rhythm back before they tripped over each other. “I cannot handle mother any longer. You ratted me out, it was worse than last. I am an outcast here and you know it.”

“Who will help with Bella and Andie?” Walburga asked, politely declining another dance as her brother spun her again.

“Mother said you are to take them until he is of age. By then, though, he may just not be a suitable father.” Alphard bowed to her as the next symphony started. He grabbed her two hands in his, pulling her to him before kissing her forehead. “I love you.” Alphard handed her off to the male that had asked her for her hand last time before fleeing and never looking back.

____________

As the evening drew on, Walburga grew tired and tipsy. Several people had left or retired to the hallway to have a proper chat. As she danced with Orion, she noticed William Lestrange and her mother talking in a corner.

“Pass me to him, please. I need to get closer to my mother.”

Orion obeyed and took the next lady into his arms. Walburga heard her congratulate him as she moved through the sea of people before landing in the arms of a man that was close to her mother.

“...such a beautiful bride. People will talk for years to come. You must be satisfied.”

Walburga’s heart filled with warmth. She worked hard for tonight and was glad she could stay focused on being poised and graceful all night; careful to not trip during the dances. Walburga focused her grey eyes on her mother to listen on what she was going to say. She waited all night to hear a good thing from the person who gave her life. All she wanted was approval. To make her mother proud by being the best lady. It seemed all throughout childhood her mother nagged on her for not being the best. Finally she could be accepted!

“That girl is a lost cause!” Her mother bit out at William. Irma’s face twisted into a sneer as she gripped her wine glass tight. “No grace, frighteningly terrifying, always muddying her dresses and chasing after her brothers! I should curse her to having a son just like Alphard with mannerisms like her so she at least knows the pain I went through! Months of work and she still can’t sit upright, walk poised, or stand with dignity! Forgets proper etiquette and table manners! Was troublesome until she went off to Hogwarts, I was glad to be rid of her! Now she’s off troubling someone else and for that I couldn’t be happier!”

Walburga felt like someone had just stabbed her in the heart.

William bowed down and kissed Irma’s hand. “I am all the more impressed by what you have achieved.”

Her mother smiled sweetly. “Thank you dear, I do what I can. No matter how ungrateful that little brat can be.” Irma ended bitterly.

Walburga thought that her mother. No, Irma. Had always put family first, no matter what.

Toujor Pur, after all.

It was like something had lifted and now all that stood before her was a wicked bitter hag full of jealousy.

I don't need her after all.

“I’m sorry.” She whispered to the man, biting back her tears as she let go. “Thank you, but I-I can’t, can’t be here right now.” She hiked up her dress and fled the ballroom. Toujour Por meant something to her.

I will teach the true meaning behind being pure, keeping the family pure, having magic coursing in our veins, Dark Arts, and family first always- no matter what! None of this behaviour my mother engages in any longer!

***

A few years later Walburga fell pregnant. All she wished for was to give her husband a healthy son to be their heir to stop the gossip, ridicule, and outcasting on how people noticed how hard it was on her. How they thought she actually could not fit the role. Her wishes had not come true. Her first pregnancy had been twin girls; Syfrin Ophelia - later to be Sirius Orion - and Rosier Azalea II. However, she had some faith to her first born...

Walburga held her daughters close to her as Orion stood beside her. "No heir, yet, Camelia."

"Syfrin is a boy."

"That is clearly a girl. Well, Camelia?" Orion started, taking their first-born in his arms. "What odd things run in our family?"

Walburga smiled. "I am not sure, why?"

Within two years, she had two more kids. One boy; Alastair Rigel, later to become Alice Fleur. One girl; Regina Adelene, later to be Regulus Arcturus. All four of them tested her nerves just as much as the first four. She never got a full night’s rest again, but she never lost her patience.

Syfrin/Sirius was lively, clumsy, challenging, and loud like Bellatrix, Rosier, and Alastair/Alice where as Regina/Regulus was patient, quiet, obedient, and carefree like Andromeda, Pandora, and Narcissa.

It was too much; her brothers drank themselves to death, Alphard disowned for being gay, Cygnus only having kids because of their family and then her having to adopt them. People within their circle ridiculed them because there were no boys and that Cygnus murdered Druella just hours after Pandora and Narcissa’s birth. They then ridiculed her for having no suitable heir and taking in his daughters.

As her children grew, she repeated ‘Toujour Pur’ and provided constant reminders that muggles were mud-bloods and they were to stay away from them for they were filthy. Walburga would tell them the world was hurtful and cruel. That family came first always.

Her first-born never seemed to understand. They pestered and tested Walburga with inappropriate questions. They seemed unable to sit in a chair right, refused to sit up straight or hold a fork correctly and ate everything with their hands. No matter what Walburga did; this kid was just as clumsy as she used to be. They were a challenge.

She would never hit, she would never yell. Before she lost her temper, she would walk away then come back and talk to her kids about the problem and what she expected. She promised herself she would never become her mother. She would cry herself to sleep at night thinking Syfrin/Sirius would never pick up on her teachings. She was afraid Regulus would follow in their footsteps even though he was currently following hers. Her adopted daughters also did better than Sirius.

*1971

Walburga was glad when she sent Sirius and Rosier off to Hogwarts. Their prefects could finally show them the right way. Andromeda, Bellatrix, Narcissa, and Pandora would be there for a few years and they would listen to them. When the first owls arrived from Bellatrix, that is when Walburga knew something was up.

Orion stood beside her, sipping his wine. Watching as she picked up the letter. Her hands shook as she looked at Bellatrix's handwriting.

Everything she had built, everything she had taught him… it all went up in ashes.

Walburga slammed the letter down as she stormed off to the kitchen.

“Not a word.” She said sternly at the cooks as she approached the cupboards and retrieved the plates. She took them to the cellar where she smashed them against the grey brick wall until there weren’t any left. As she looked at the damage, she sank to her knees and screamed with tears streaming down her face.

Walburga wanted to die, or even murder her daughters when they were born. All they had done since they conceived them was make her life burdensome and painful. Ever since the day they were born, they were a traitors to the bloodline. She was ashamed they were even hers. They had sorted her son and only chance of a good male heir into Gryffindor.

Walburga saw it was coming.

She had one chance left to make things right; Regina.

Her youngest. Obedient, calm, collected, and poised. Never clumsy, boisterous, or rude. A proud Slytherin. Top marks in Dark Arts. She even became a Death Eater after Bellatrix. She understood it was pro-muggle activism keeping knowledge from proper witches and wizards and supported it. Regina never disappointed her even though she was not a suitable heir. She could give a suitable heir, though. Walburga still worried when she hung with her sisters and continued to look up to them.

*1976 September

It was another Summer with the kids home from Hogwarts. Walburga dreaded going to the ball with her dysfunctional family but she couldn’t afford to stay away.

Where Regina/Regulus accepted dance requests and focused on finding a suitable heir, Sirius had not and smoked cigarettes in a corner.

Regina/Regulus had worn a black sparkling ball gown despite the arguing that had followed when Walburga presented it to her; "Why won't you wear this dress?" Walburga asked, hands on her hips as she stood in the middle of Regina's room. Regina/Regulus shrugged. "I do not feel comfortable with them, mother." Walburga folded her arms. "I have come to terms that you are not a suitable heir but that you can give me one, and now you are telling me you would rather wear a suit over a dress? Do not tell me you are like your sister and want to be a man!" Regina/Regulus hung her head, toying with the tulle fabric of the ball gowns skirt. In the end, Walburga won. Whereas Sirius wore a suit with a leather jacket. Which had also ended in a fight. She wasn’t even trying to look for a dance partner or suitable future husband. People made jokes that she was a wizard interested in wizards or even a witch interested in witches. *sometimes they could not tell which gender Sirius wanted to be* Walburga knew who her friends were though; mudbloods and traitors. She didn’t even try to keep his interests or relations with all those harlots and men a secret. For reasons unknown to her, she had recently just stopped doing that in the past year.

I need answers.

Because of her children, Walburga was an outcast. No one talked to her. It forced her to interact with the only people she could; her brothers and her husband. That is where she currently stood, with her family, waving away her brother’s smoke clouds as she tried her hardest to ignore the nausea that clawed at her throat as her husband and brother just kept drinking.

She knew the three of them were trying to forget about Syfrin/Sirius.

Alphard, however, was not. He was proud of Sirius for being himself and acting like him; looking up to the "cool" Uncle.

Walburga had hated her brother ever since the day she had dug into him before he had left her house…

FLASHBACK 1961

Walburga was holding two month old Regina/Regulus as she stormed downstairs to the servants’ quarters where her brother slept in the extra room spending his days drowning in whiskey, smoke, and stupid muggle painting.

“I will not have my children raised around a smoker! What is all this?!” She gestured to his canvases and paintings, kicking one down and stomping on it. “I want you out of this house by sundown! You don’t belong here anymore, you fag! My son does not need this kind of influence! He will marry a weathful, beautiful, young dame and give us wonderful heirs for years to come! In order for that, you must leave!”

“I will still be at the dances and family gatherings as mother insisted when she disowned me and sent me to you, but fine! I’ll leave this bloody house for all I fucking care! Have fun raising eight kids on your own!”

END FLASHBACK

When Alphard glanced at Sirius, it ignited something in Walburga. She grabbed him by the collar and dragged him off to a nearby powder room. She threw out the girls giggling inside and locked them out before putting up a silencing charm and glared at her brother.

“Have you been seeing my daughter!?” Walburga seethed, crossing her arms.

Alphard took another drag.

She pulled it from his hand, throwing it in the ashtray before pushing her brother toward the counter with her hands around his neck.

He winced as she pushed him further into the countertop; the smooth edges pushing painfully against his spine. Alphard watched her eyes turn almost black. There was no more grey colouring or happiness in Walburga. She had turned cold, like their mother. There was no turning back from that for a Black…

Once you go black, you never go back.

“I will ask again.” She growled. “Have… you… been… visiting… my… child?!”

“They have been coming to me.” Alphard choked out. His throat was on fire and his wrists were hurting from squeezing the counter. “They had questions.” He choked out. “I answered.” She squeezed tighter. His vision blurred. “Stop!”

Orion ran in and yanked her backwards. “Honey, stop!” He yelled, squeezing his hands into her shoulders. “You are going to kill somebody!”

Walburga shoved Orion away. “What do you fucking care?! You are just drinking away your life with my brother, ignoring your children like always! I’m stuck taking care of eight kids, one of which wants nothing to do with our family and our traditions!” She grabbed her husband’s wrists, her voice gone dark as she spoke her next words. “You do anything you can to stop her from burrowing further into this rabbit hole of hers!”

“You have been making him hurt your son already! He has bruises, scars, and told me a complete list of spells yo-”

“SHUT UP!” Walburga screamed, slapping her brother. “YOU did this to her! I told you to stay away from her, no matter how persistent she got!”

“He is fifteen!” Alphard argued.

“AND DOING EVERYTHING YOU AND CYGNUS DID WHEN YOU TWO WERE YOUNGER!” Walburga screamed even louder. Alphard was right… Walburga was too far gone now. “She is a disgrace. An outcast, a traitor, a freak! I should have just killed all of them.” She glared at her husband. “I am taking the children home.”

*nine at night*

Walburga was quiet the rest of the evening as she dragged her children home.

Sirius was laughing, Regina was glaring at him, and Bellatrix was complaining.

Why is this my life?

Once they got home Regina/Regulus went up to bed, the girls went outside to giggle about boys. Walburga grabbed her wand and aimed it at Sirius’ back.

Petrificus Totalus!

“You are the worst thing that has ever happened in my life!” She circled her then gripped her chin and tilted it up so their grey eyes met. “Your father has done enough, it’s my turn! I cannot save it any longer, I-” she swallowed thickly.

Say it, you cannot stand loving someone like this anymore. He is not your son. Never has been. Sirius stared at her as she tripped over her words.

Her leather jacket angered her, the long hair she insisted on wearing as a boy, his tattoos she knew she had *very unladylike*, her piercings, her “friends”, her choice in being Sirius over Syfrin, ending up in Gryffindor and being portrayed as a boy by the castle, teachers, and students. She slapped Sirius after letting go of their face.

“I hate you.” She spit it out; literally.

Walburga grabbed the broom from the kitchen and went back to the entrance between kitchen and living room. Her heart pounded, ached in her chest, she did not want to do this to her baby but she had hurt her. She needed to be shown not from her father how much pain she put to her mother, but by Walburga herself… the person she hurt.

“I hate you.” She repeated, tears stinging her eyes.

She could not take it anymore. Sixteen years of humiliation, pain, disobedience, talking back, shouting, screaming, yelling, smashed family heirlooms and antiques, broken books, smashed walls, knives through the tables and walls, fork marks in the table. Walburga’s blood ran cold as she brought the broom up and brought it down hard on her child.

Sirius fell to her knees, biting her tongue to keep from screaming out. Walburga picked her up from under her armpits and brought the broom down on her back once more. “I hate you, you are a disgrace!”

“A faggot like your bastard Uncle!” The broom came down on Sirius' shoulder blade with a deafening crack.

“Hanging out with Mudbloods!” Walburga swung the broom again.

“How dare the fates let you become a bloody Gryffindor! You can have suitable heirs as a girl!” She hit Sirius with the broom three more times with the last sentence.

Again and again, the broom came down on her child. With every hit, Sirius winced. Sirius had disrespected her with everything she was. Walburga had done her best to never hit or yell. She now had enough and could not take it anymore. She poured all her anger and disappointment out on her child. The one person who should have been her heir!

“I hate you! Is that through your skull yet?!” She screamed, pointing her wand at Sirius. “Crucio!” Sirius arched her back, screaming vociferously. Walburga could feel the strength grow within her as she punished her kid.

She struck again… her neck, her hands. Walburga smiled as she watched Syfrin draw away from the sting as she trembled. Walburga could only guess it was from the crying.

She grabbed his long curly hair and pulled her head back to meet her dark eyes. “I… hate… you…” Walburga seethed.

Sirius squeezed her eyes shut, warm tears trailing down her face.

Walburga smiled the Black lineage smile as she threw her forwards at the coffee table.

Sirius' body landed on the top of the table with a hard thud and a pained moan.

“For so long I have had to deal with you… keep up with you… I had your father do my dirty work because I could not go through with it but I have had quite enough! You simply could not have told how much I hated you through your father, but you figured out how much he hated you. It is my turn. You needed to see how much I truly detested you and I did it all in one go.”

Images of all the times Syfrin acted out, disobeyed, stumbled, fallen, talked back. It fuelled her anger. Syfrin deserve no one… not those friends… not her sisters… nor whoever she was seeing.

“You deserve no one!” She continued beating and cursing at her child until she was tired. Walburga had been waiting to punish them. Now that she was finally doing it, she felt like she couldn’t stop.

Walburga watched her daughter turned potential heir turned to a disgrace weep on the table. Blood seeped through her clothing and onto the floor.

I’ll deal with that later.

Her long hair had become plastered to her sweaty tear-stained face. For the first time in sixteen years, Walburga felt content.

“You can drown in your misery for all I care. Just get up to bed before your father gets home or you will deal with him as well. Might as well stay there so he can do more damage anyway, you deserve it.”

She leant over Sirius as the front door opened.

“Too late.”

Walburga gripped her daughter's hair, pulling at the nape of her neck.

“Did I say you are a faggot? I found letters from your so-called friend. Everything you are doing and have done is amoral! You have always been an outcast, a blood traitor, and disowned. You haven’t been my son for years.”

She looked up to find Orion looming over them. He had heard everything she just said.

Sirius whined as she tried moving away but Walburga pulled her up by her elbows and held her back against her own body. “I’m going to enjoy watching your drunk father do the same things I just did to you.” She growled into Sirius' ear.

*eleven thirty*

Sirius climbed the stairs in weak agony.

His parents were downstairs cleaning up the blood, the evidence, and the smashed plates from earlier.

His sisters had gone up to bed through the basement cellar to avoid the scenery of him getting beaten.

He stood on shaking legs in front of the bathroom mirror, locked inside until he left.

Sirius inspected himself; his left eye was purple and swollen, his lips had cuts and dried blood, some blood was still coming out of his mouth, his hands were bleeding, his back was killing him.

His father had beat him harder than he had in the past. Sirius had two assumptions; he was drunker than usual… or, since his mother had not given his father any instructions, then he had done what he wanted to do.

Sirius hung his head and gripped the porcelain sink as more tears escaped his body. How he even deserved this he hadn’t known. Who was he to stop himself from being clumsy, gay, a boy ninety percent of the time, or uninterested in dark magic?! It was who he was!

Without even looking up, he brought his fist up and smashed the mirror to bits. He spun on his heels and punched the wall above the toilet paper holder; leaving a vast hole in the plaster and wallpaper. It left him feeling elated.

He took out his pocket knife from his slacks and added a few more cuts to his wrists before pocketing it again. Sirius became nauseous and threw himself over the toilet where he threw up blood, his dinner, and some bile. He growled as he flushed it down.

About twenty minutes later, he went to his youngest siblings room. He knocked on the door as he entered. Regulus ran up to their brother and wrapped their arms tightly around his middle. Sirius hugged Regulus tight, kissing their head.

“I love you.” Sirius whispered.

“I love you, too.” Regulus replied. “But you can’t leave.”

“I have to! Did you not hear what was going on downstairs?!” Sirius yelled, gesturing to the staircase outside the room leading to the living room he just left. “Do you not see the condition my body is in?!” He gestured to himself.

“YOU FUCKING PROMISED! YOU WERE THERE TO PROTECT ME!” Regulus had hot tears stinging their grey eyes. “You should not have come in. You should have just left!”

“I wanted to say something before I left.”

“Bullshit.” Regulus growled, grabbing a photo album and throwing it at Sirius’ head. Sirius ducked. “You promised! All you do is hurt us!”

Sirius squeezed his eyes shut. “It's not me.” He choked out, the last thing he wanted was for his brother to hate him.

“NO!” Regulus yelled, punching the wall beside Sirius’ head, baring their teeth. “If you want to leave, then leave!” They whispered through their teeth. Regulus' body shook with adrenaline.

Sirius watched Regulus’ cheeks turn from pink to a burning red. Their sad grey eyes were like daggers to his heart, much more so than his mothers. He had been close to his brother. Sirius shoved Regulus away, causing the youngest heir to stumble back.

“FINE!” Sirius growled through clenched teeth. “I thought I could protect you and get you to follow me.”

“They need me!” Regulus whispered, grey eyes searching the grey carpet below them.

“You do not have to do this. Just tell them.” Sirius pleaded. Regulus glared up at him. Sirius nodded. “Alright. Do not tell me I didn’t try. I love you.” He turned out into the hallway and headed to his room as his heart shattered. No one in this house loved him anymore, so he would just go to someone who did.

“I love you. I’m sorry.” Regulus whispered after him.

Sirius heard them.

***midnight***

Walburga sat happily at the table in the sitting room. Humming, she stirred her tea with a small silver spoon and ignored the loud noises from upstairs. Walburga didn’t care about what was going on. If there was damage, she would have someone fix it later. She knew Saiph would outlash at his punishments. Someone trampled down the stairs. Bumping against something every few moments.

“I’m leaving,” Sirius barked, “And you will not be seeing me anymore. I will not be coming back.”

“I would not want you back anyway.”

Walburga didn’t bother getting up. She sat and watched her son/daughter as he stormed out the front doors. With the slam of the front door, everything felt lighter. It should not have felt nice but it had. Sirius was a Gryffindor, he always had been. He never fit in with their Slytherin house, their Dark Arts, the Death Eaters. That was Regina's job.

Walburga was confused when she heard someone else come running. She stood and entered the living room. “Regina.” She said calmly. Regulus stopped in his tracks, looking up at his mother. “She disappointed us. You know that, right?”

Regulus nodded. “But-”

“You will not disappoint us too, Regina. Got it?” Walburga warned.

“Yes, Ma’am.” Regulus/Regina answered sadly. Walburga didn’t catch her tone as she was too busy pulling out her wand and changing the wards.

“She is an ungrateful brat. I did my best, she still had not listened. Then Hogwarts went and sorted her into the wrong house!” She whirled on Regina, taking wide steps until she gripped her chin, locking their eyes together. “You are still focused on finding a suitable heir, yes?”

Regulus/Regina nodded. Though she was just fourteen, she knew how important marrying wealthy pure-blood men was to her mother. She just could not help how he felt towards a certain someone at Hogwarts or how he felt to his own body. She needed to be on her mother’s good side, no matter how hard it got at times. She could have her fun without her finding out, do her duties as a Death Eater on the side, and still have everything be completely alright when she graduates.

Right?

“I know how much it means to you that this family stays together, but unfortunately Syfrin had other plans.” Walburga would see to it that she would not suffer from her older sisters. She would be seen as the one and only suitable heiress of the House of Black who would hopefully bring up suitable heirs in the future.

Regulus followed her to the tapestry and watched as she pointed her wand at Sirius' name; in which the tapestry and every pure-blood paper had re-wrote istelf to suit who Sirius was when he changed who he was in the family. Regulus intended to do that someday as he watched an intense beam come from Walburga's wand.

With satisfaction, Walburga watched the name of what she thought to be her last rotten spawn become burnt off the family tree.

**1977**

Walburga took a trip to Hogsmeade a week after the kids had gone back to school. She did her best to keep herself out of sight from prying eyes as people would surely talk. She had just wanted to see if she could spot Regulus having a bit of enjoyment for once before she headed to Knockturn Alley to find the ingredients she needed to ward the house from Boggarts and Dementors once again.

She had found Regina/Regulus just moments before she turned toward the alley.

Her blood boiled.

She was with her brother, laughing at whatever Potter was saying! Walburga pulled her hands into fists, her nails digging into her palms.

How dare she!

Yet she could not do anything for fear of exposing herself.

Moving on from her disgrace of children, she turned toward Knockturn Alley and right into ‘Cobb & Webb’s’ where she had bumped into…

“Peter?” She questioned. His blue eyes darted around the alley.

What is a sixteen year old doing down here? Isn’t this one of Sirius’ friends?

“Why are you here?”

“I, uh, I’m…” he stuttered. “Sirius doesn’t know.”

“Death Eater, are you?” Walburga thought aloud. Peter nodded.

Why in the whole bloody world did Syfrin become friends with the shyest, drawn-back people? SHE SHOULD HAVE BEEN A SLYTHERIN! At least she would have proper friends that…

Walburga stopped herself and looked at the timid Pettigrew with a sinister smile. She pulled them off to the side and sat him on a bench.

“What are they having you do?”

*1978*

When Regina/Regulus was eighteen, the house became empty and quiet.

Walburga had not heard from her baby in weeks.

She had gotten no letters from her about how Hogwarts was going.

No letters from the Death Eater headquarters.

Walburga had waited for Regina to return for months but she knew by now that she was dead.

The tapestry gave it away.

Regina had been a good girl, she did not deserve the cold hands of death.

*1981*

Now here Walburga was, getting ready for the trial of her firstborn.

She had not seen Syfrin in five years. Walburga refused to attend her wedding to Remus Lupin; the monster, the tainted half-blood. He was just another faggot to deal with. She hated that Sirius had the ability to conceive and bear a daughter with that monster. It left a bitter taste in her mouth that he had even considered the blood-traitor and the mudblood half-blood girl as the child’s Uncle and Aunt alongside her brother. She destroyed Sirius' room when Regulus had become a Godfather to those two’s tainted spawn.

Walburga sensed deep inside she was not getting the full story… that someone was lying to her. If she found out that one of her children lied to her, they would feel her wrath. She could handle punishing Syfrin again, but punishing Regina or Narcissa would crush her spirit even more than it had five years ago when she hurt her eldest son. Narcissa and Regina were the ones who followed their footsteps religiously. Cygnus and some boy named Tom had caused Bellatrix to become too far gone. Andromeda went and married a mudblood Hufflepuff; getting herself disowned.

Entering the courtroom, Walburga sat in the front row. She needed to see everything. A sinister smile crept onto her face as she muttered spells that made them not hear Sirius' cries, as well as whatever she said turn to lies. They deserved this. She had murdered her friends in cold blood and that monster of a husband hated them. Peter was out of the picture, her friends were dead, Remus was hated, outcast, and alone. As soon as Sirius was behind bars in Azkaban,

Walburga was free.

Two Aurors dragged Syfrin/Sirius into the courtroom.

It had only been a few months since she had been arrested and time was not nice to her. Walburga could tell she had not slept, that she had been crying and inflicting pain on himself. It made Walburga happy.

If you had just been in Slytherin, none of this would be happening.

Sirius struggled against the restraints, growling menacingly at the Aurors as they struggled to get him in more restraints. He screamed as they threw Crucio spells at him. “I did not do it! It was not me! Are any of you daft bastards listening to me?! You are all full of bullshit and this is fucking… you all need to burn in fucking hell!”

I used to wash your mouth out with soap for that mouth of yours. Can’t believe someone actually kisses your ashtray, liquor filled, vile mouth and those kids of yours are not terrified of their so called parent; a drunk, smoke and drug addicted, vile parent.

Walburga sat there smirking, her eyes trained on her screaming traitor daughter.

Her cries fell on mute ears.

No one was listening.

She put this on himself.

The more she struggled, the happier Walburga was.

He abandoned his families, his brothers, his friends, lovers, and more.

There truly was no one on her side…

There never had been.

The Wizengamont found Sirius guilty and he was dragged out of the courtroom screaming vile curses and laughing maniacally.

Even if you had complied nicely in a calm manner… impossible in this family… they still would have hauled you off. Glad to be rid of you.

Walburga was still smiling as she got home.

It was unsettlingly quiet with all her children gone, her husband, heiress, and brother dead, and her other brother living off on his own. She put her veiled hat down on her bed.

From the corner of her eyes, she saw something that made her skin crawl.

It could not be real…She despised her! Everything about her mother made her skin crawl and her blood boil.

I refused to turn into her! I did everything in my power to be different!

She turned slowly towards the mirror on her vanity dresser pushed toward the far end of the room.

“No.” She whispered.

She approached the mirror slowly, locking eyes with her own reflection. “No.” She repeated, shaking her head. “No, no, no, no!” She was smiling back at herself with the same malicious smile her mother had when she had beaten her. The smile she knew was plastered on her face when she beat her first-born. She screamed as she punched the mirror; shards of glass rained down on her, the vanity, and the green carpet below.

Walburga found herself on her knees screaming through her tears. She blindly reached for her wand, finding it on her vanity in a pile of glass. She let the shards cut her as she picked up her wand and herself then stormed off to Sirius’ room.

She kicked his door open then stood staring at his destroyed Gryffindor decorated room for a moment. Walburga could feel the tears flowing down her cheeks as she ripped photos of Sirius’ friends and himself off the walls…

“TRAITOR!” She screamed.

She tore posters and banners down, destroyed his bed further and wiped all the makeup and ink pots off his vanity. She ripped his clothes from his closet, wanting to burn the dresses he had stolen from his sisters.

“Faggot.” She growled, storming off to Regulus' bedroom.

Her heart shattered when she opened the door to her youngests' room. There was nothing out of place in the room and everything was neatly in its place, yet there was a weird feeling emitting off the walls of the room. Regulus had kept everything straight and tidy, but something still felt off. Walburga tore through the room as the front doors slammed open. Walburga looked up from where she knelt on her daughter's floor.

“Dementors.” She whispered to herself. Walburga shook her head and continued searching through her child's clothes, journals, and closet. She pried open a hide-away door that hadn’t been shut all the way.

“Lumos.”

Her heart broke.

“Alphard!” She growled.

She stood up from the small painting room Regina/Regulus had made, coming face to face with a painting that was full of emotion. It was gold, green, silver, and orange with streaks of black weaving through the colours.

“No.” She whispered, thinking back to her daughter smiling at James in the pub.

She backed up into her hanging suits. A Gryffindor tie fell from one of the hangers. ‘J.P’ was embroidered on the bottom. She picked it up in shaking hands as she bit her bottom lip. Tears threatened to spill. She could hear the Dementors and Death Eaters below tear through her house but she did not care anymore.

Walburga let the tie slip from her hands as she exited the closet and fell to Regulus’ bed in body wracking sobs.

“When did this happen?” She asked herself as her muscles tensed and her body became numb.

No one heard from Walburga Black after the trial.

Dementors and Death Eaters raiding her house for the locket was all over the newspapers.

They had killed her…

Karma killed her.

***

read here

Feel free to comment your thoughts or questions! I am sorry if it does not make a lot of sense or things are confusing, I just wrote what felt right. Hopefully future chapters will help connect some puzzles.

(Updates might be slow and out of place... bear with me, I work an overnight job)

Next up? Lyall Lupin and Hope Howell.

#marauders era #walburga black #sirius black #sirius azkaban #sirius x lupin #regulus black #remus x sirius

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raziroo · 4 years

Text

3. Demon Child (Pt. II) - Remus Lupin

Pairing : Remus Lupin x Reader

Genre : Angst all the way. Hint of fluff.

Warnings : Abusive home conditions, mentions of death, graphic descriptions of death, descriptions of torture, mentions of sexual activity.

Word count : 7,200

~~~~~

"What?" I asked Potter and company.

"N-nothing, just, you know..."

"You think me kissing your best friend is strange."

"Yes."

"Why?"

"Well... Because you seem to hate humans in general, and it physically pains you to smile?" Potter asked, sarcastically. "Oh, and also because you're incapable of feeling emotions," Black chided.

"Is 'ugh' an emotion? Because I feel that all the time," I retorted, then turned to Lupin. "I don't feel 'ugh' now, I feel actually happy, but that's an occurrence that's rarer than a Parseltongue, so..." I shrugged.

"It's OK," he replied.

After a painfully awkward moment, I exclaimed, "Well! I... Guess I should get going, uh, I need to... get fired," I said, removing my hands from Lupin's shoulders.

"Fired? Why would you get fired?" he questioned, furrowing his brows, looking adorable.

"Oh, Moony! Why are you surprised? Miss I-only-wear-black-and-it-physically-pains-me-to-smile scared her boss, so now she's about to get fired," Black commented. I narrowed my eyes at him.

"Well, Mr. It-is-my-mission-to-get-in-bed-with-every-breathing-organism-in-existence, I am about to get fired because I was on "holiday" for two whole weeks, and because I bunked my five minute break to come visit your best friend who you're practically married to, and because my boss is a-!" and that was the moment, witches and wizards, when the Golden students of Gryffindor had the fortune of hearing my artistically colorful vocabulary. "Oh, and also," I added, "I don't wear just black. I wear inky black, metallic black, leather black, jet black, jade black, obsidian black, onyx black, charcoal black, midnight black, coal, and raven. And also, grey, burgundy, violet, blue, and green." I flashed a smile at Black's bewildered face, and with a kiss to Lupin's cheek, apparated out.

•••••

Ever since the kiss, that had occurred two weeks ago, Lupin frequently visited me. He often brought me food, and coffee, and we would sit and talk about anything and everything for literal hours. Things had become comfortable between us, we had even discussed about the kiss, and what it meant. I had made it clear that, now that he finally knew what I felt towards him, he was in no way forced to return the feeling, and that it was alright with me if he ever felt uncomfortable or forced to reciprocate my feelings.

Of course, he had always replied with a remark that assured me that he wasn't feeling forced, and it was all fine. I, of course, wanted to believe him; it wasn't my fault that I couldn't. Because even though I knew Remus Lupin was a good person, one who'd never lie to me, I was also aware of the fact that I wasn't typical crush material, and people would have no problem leaving me, even if they were scared of me, quite like my father.

And so, strictly out of the fear of being left alone, a quite rational fear of being left alone, I asked him the question that had been bugging me for days now. Or at least tried to.

"Gryffindor," I said, to the person sitting opposite me, who was sipping coffee in the secluded corner of the coffee shop.

"Hm?"

"I... wanted to ask you... something," my hesitance abundant in my voice. Perhaps my unusual reluctance was the reason that led Lupin to look up at me.

"What is it?"

"I... Have been thinking..."

"Hm, go on," he urged.

"I just... " I couldn't do it, it was way too difficult. So I twisted my words around, in order to make the Gryffindor aware of what I meant to say, without actually saying it. "Look... As a kid, I didn't have the greatest childhood. I- I had one of the worst... possible scenarios you could possibly call a childhood. I was a... Mistake, as my parents kept reminding me every other day; they had me when they were teenagers, you see," I raised my eyebrows a bit, but not meeting the man's intense gaze.

"So, my father didn't... he wasn't very- keen on the idea of supporting a family, and neither was my mother. She did, however, take care of me as a child, if you could call feeding a person regularly taking care. My father, he dropped around to our apartment... from time to time, and that was also just a formality. I mean, until I was seven, he did say "Hello" to me, called me a name I hated, but it was a pet name nonetheless; after that... he just stopped caring. Kept having affairs, would get involved with problematic people, ignored me and my mother. Mum, obviously, had slipped into depression. I, as an eleven year old, had to witness my own mother transition into a drunkard, and my father didn't care," I sighed.

"After I received my Hogwarts letter, however, I had to leave, and so... my father left as well. Because, well, why should you care for your dying wife? Your mistake of a kid will now be fed; she wont have to arrange food herself, and that's all a father's role is, isn't it?" I looked up to a face filled with sympathy and pain.

"After my second year, though, I knew that my mother's condition was worsening; she'd gotten into drugs, she seriously needed a rehab. I visited my dad a few times, asked him to get my mother treatment. He just called me by that nasty pet name, gave me a cookie, and sent me on my way. My mum's condition kept worsening and worsening and worsening, she even resorted to hitting me and stuff; I had to lock her in her room. I... just think about it. I had to lock my own mother in a room, and listen to her sobbing- a- and banging on the door, begging me to open the door. But I couldn't, because well, self-survival was a thing."

One day, I returned home from my muggle job, and I called out to my mother; check if she needed food, or- or if I could read her a story. I pulled out a card from... my bag, because it was her birthday. And I go inside, hoping to see my mother in a better... mood than usual; she hadn't been locked up in her room, so." I chuckled, as I tried to blink my tears away.

"And then, I go into her room, and you know what I see? My... my mother's bod-" I sucked in a breath. "She was laying... on the ground, and her eyes, they had no life in them, she- my mother had died. I got her admitted in the nearest muggle hospital, and, a few days later, in her postmortem report, it said that she died because of a... drug overdose. I, was obviously so confused, because I made it sure that I always threw all the- the drugs and alcohol out, I destroyed it. That... Was the reason she was able to live on her own in the first place, obviously. And all the abuse, mental, and... And physical... That wasn't because she was drunk. It was because I wasn't giving her the alcohol. She had so many attacks, and even a couple seizures, but a visit to the hospital, and she would always be able to survive. So when, after my fifth year, I see my mother dead, it was devastating. I wasn't able to find out who really gave her the drugs; I had to suffer jail time. Got out because my father bailed me out after the first three days."

And then, in her funeral, he didn't even make an appearance. I was alone, at her funeral. And then, one month later, a few days before school started, he makes an appearance, with his newest girlfriend," I sniffed.

"An he's like, 'Hey, kid,' and at that moment, I hated my father. I truly hated my father at that moment, because I knew that he had really stopped caring. He didn't even call me that nickname, didn't even call me... 'Demon Child', didn't taunt me for being magical like my mother. He didn't try to even show his loathing for me, and that's when I knew he really stopped caring. Because if you hate someone, you dislike someone, you care about them. But..." I swallowed the lump in my throat, not wanting to let the first sob out.

"Everyone, Gryffindor, every single one of the people who I cared about, they left. My mother, my father, Cynthia. And, I know it's not even been that long, but I like you, Gryffindor, a lot. More than I feel comfortable with, this is uncharted territory for me. And I just, I don't want you to go, or leave, because I don't know how much longer I can go around with this bitchy persona, because it hurts. It hurts to kn- know that I don't deserve getting cared about. And I-" I couldn't even say what I had to, I burst in tears. Lupin didn't waste even a fraction of a second to envelope me in a hug, allowing me to cry my sorrows away.

I had truly never felt more cared about, and safe, than I did in that moment.

•••••

Honestly, my life could have been a teen drama. Four months, four very hectic and possessed months later, after I officially became Remus Lupin's girlfriend, the Dark Lord and his goons found out about it.

And purely because of my knowledge and intellect on dark magic, the Death Eaters had sworn to forever follow me, and give me zero privacy. They often turned into ordinary civilians, I could just tell that they weren't ordinary people going about their ordinary routines; these people were Death Eaters.

So one day, while I was in the old Coffee shop, alone, after a long period of time, my irritatingly impulsive self confronted one such Death Eater in disguise, who just so happened to be one who could not-so-easily overpower me. Yep, you guessed it, none other than Bellatrix LeStrange.

"Can I talk to you?" I asked Bellatrix, who was in disguise of a frail woman with curly ginger hair and big blue eyes.

"Me?" she asked, sounding surprised, and very fake.

"Yes," I replied. "Bellatrix, yes, you," she looked surprised. I don't know what for, though, because her acting was pathetic, and the way her eyes had been trained on me throughout my visit to the cafe was hostile and creepy enough for any normal person to suspect danger.

"I don't know why you and your Death Eaters are stalking me, but I don't like it. So if you could please leave me alone, and let me live my life, it would be heavily appreciated."

The woman, however, only sneered at me, and before I could even snatch my wand out, I had been apparated away.

•••••

Being back at Malfoy Manor was certainly not a pleasant experience; the dungeons of the manor stunk badly, and the fact that there were now more prisoners in it wasn't exactly homely. On top of that, Voldemort seemed adamant on making me one of his Death Eaters.

And he had been successful.

Staying in the same rotten cellar, with its putrid stench and disgusting puddles for an entire twelve days, as far as I'd managed to count, was a tedious task on its own. But when I received torture sessions from Bellatrix LeStrange everyday, where my body would end up feeling sore until the next day, when I had to get tortured again, the twelve days felt to be as long as a century.

Whenever I asked the Death Eaters why they were doing this they would just chortle and leave. So one particular day- or it could have been night, as far as I was concerned - I said something that I would have never, ever said in such a situation, because in all honesty, I wasn't keen on dying. How, or why those words spewed from my mouth, I was unaware, but the damage had already been done, and the Dark Lord had taken offense personally. And so the situation had spiralled out of my control.

"Why doesn't your Dark Lord come here to greet me personally, huh? Why does he send his minions to deal with an innocent prisoner?"

Bella scowled. "It's because the Lord doesn't wish to spend time on half-breed filth such as you; he expects us to take care of people of your likes, and I would be damned if I don't."

"Ha," I laughed, a spiteful, emotionless laugh. "He doesn't want to spend time on half-breed filth like me? Well, tell him I'm not going to subject to his torture. He can hurt me all he wants; I will never become a Death Eater," I sneered at Bellatrix.

She spat at my face. I moved it out of the way. "Well, thank you then. The Dark Lord will be pleased to know that you have already surrendered," and she strutted off, before I could even think to question the meaning of her sadistic grin and the cackle she let out on her way.

••••

Why do I have to be so damn dumb?

I should have let them torture me, hurt me. But no, little miss bad bitch had to go ahead and question the Dark Lord's intentions. And now, I had messed up. Bad. Real bad.

Why? Oh, because this was the question the Dark Lord had posed when he'd come to check my cellar late that same night.

"If you do not wish to be a Death Eater, a devoted follower, then that is fine. But know, that I do have other methods... Forceful methods to get you to submit to me," the Dark Lord had said, in his ominous, whisper voice. "If you are confused as to why the Darkest Wizard of all time is so determined to have you under his wing, then, you may not be as clever and cunning as I expect of you," he'd snarled, his vicious eyes on me.

"I know why, I'm not...," I had sighed, because I had been dumb. "You want me to become a Death Eater because of your brother's soul that resides within me. Maybe... Because I'm into darker forms of magic as well," I had said, straining my voice.

"Hmm, you do, indeed, possess sense. I thought you didn't, for you had very easily given into Bellatrix, a trap... Of sorts... But then again, I expected you to. You may be cunning, but you do not know the full extent of my command and power on people... You couldn't possibly have expected to be aware of your ...relations, with the half breed."

That was when my head had jerked up, looking at the Lord with wide eyes; he didn't even glimpse in my direction.

"I do know, I know... Lord Voldemort knows all... If you do not submit to my will, then, unfortunately, I will have to... attend to the werewolf personally. I will make him feel homely, but yet I assume you wouldn't want me to keep your little lover as a guest..." he'd trailed off, finally stopping his pacing and looking at me, staring down, at my fearful eyes, panic-stricken face, and shaking body.

"You, you- you can't-"

"I can, foolish child, you know that as well... It would be best, then, if you bid your alliegance to me, to the cause... To the Greater Good... Or we can always pay the werewolf a visit..."

"I-" I had looked up at the Dark Lord's merciless slits-for-eyes, and then instantaneously looked down, closing my eyes, but shedding no tears.

"Fine..." I had barely managed to whisper, shaking my head. I had known this was selfish; I should have been fine with sacrificing the Gryffindor for a better world; I would have certainly sacrificed either, or both, of my parents if I had to. But even though I'd met the Gryffindor only about half a year ago, I suddenly realized that I cared about him more than I could've ever imagined. I didn't just love the Gryffindor anymore, no, I was in love with him. And that realization alone was so startling that I had missed hearing the Dark Lord give me instructions on how to dress and when to appear in the Malfoy living room for the ceremony.

For my Death Eater initiation.

•••••

I was currently situated in the centre of the Malfoy Manor's living room, dressed in my usual color, black. Though this time, I was dressed in clothing belonging to Bellatrix LeStrange. My left arm was stretched out, forearm bare, as the Dark Lord approached me, his wand in hand, ready to carve in the ugly stain that would forever bind my alliance with him.

"Hmm... My dear followers," the Dark Lord said, addressing all the Death Eaters that were surrounding us; most of them looking nervous and having a sense of nostalgia to them - not-so-pleasant nostalgia. A few others, and I mean really few others, such as Bella, were grinning. Charming.

"Today is the day... The day when I initiate a Death Eater who's only reason to become a Death Eater, is love, " The Dark Lord taunted and laughed, and his followers chuckled too. "Love for a werewolf, at that... But fear not! She will not betray us... Won't even think about it. Why, might you ask... Because she has the soul of Richard Riddle in her... The soul, of my deceased brother." Although the Dark Lord paused, his followers didn't laugh. "And she's aware that I just have to greet him to cause immeasurable pain to her... She's smart... But above that, she knows that her werewolf will be in danger if she betrays me... But then again, she may go behind my back without me noticing. Like I mentioned earlier, she has great levels of intellect... So, after the Death Eater initiation, I will bind her in an Unbreakable Vow."

What?!

"Don't look surprised... It was expected... Even if the scarcest bit," he said, words aimed towards me. "But first, you will be initiated. And to be initiated, you have to kill someone..." I wasn't aware of that.

"Bring her in!" the Dark Lord said in a higher voice, and soon the lump body of a girl was levitated inside the room. The girl, brunette and with blue eyes, looked painfully familiar, but due to all the panic and dread swirling around my gut, I just couldn't place it. It was the kind of feeling you got when there was a word, right on the tip of your tongue, but you still couldn't place it.

As the spells were removed from the female's body, she fell to the ground, her hands supporting her fall, hair messily framing her face. She could be clearly heard sobbing. I watched, scared, as I pondered on how I was going to kill the poor girl. Said girl looked up and around, and when her eyes fell on Voldemort, she started sobbing even louder, pleading to anyone and everyone.

Her cries and pleas were blatantly ignored, however, as the Dark Lord turned to me. He didn't need to say anything, I knew what I was supposed to do. And so, knowing that there was no way out, I raised my wand at the girl, who screamed when she saw me go through the motions. She shook her head, crawling over and grabbing me legs, howling, wailing, begging for me to spare her.

I knew that maybe, maybe I wouldn't have to murder anyone in the end, if the spell fell short. It obviously was a tricky spell, the Avada Kedavra, so I might be spared of murdering someone.

So I raised my wand, fully confident that it wouldn't work, and meeting the girl's eyes, muttered the spell. Except my fantasies didn't come true. Perhaps, it was because of the other, very powerful soul that inhabited my body, alongside my own soul, but it worked.

The spell worked.

The Avada Kedavra worked. I had just committed a murder.

And just as the gravity and guilt of that situation fell upon my shoulder, I realized something else as well.

Those striking blue eyes, they could belong to only one person. And that was Crystal Hollander. The face shape, the body, the eyes, everything was same except the hair. I had not just murdered someone, I had murdered Crystal Hollander's sister.

But I wasn't given time to hate myself, though. The Dark Lord let out a low chuckle, swished his wand, and the dead body disappeared. I looked up. "Killing someone for the first time can be traumatic; more so when you do it against your will. But we'll, it does not do well do dwell on the past. Bring out your arm." I did.

The Dark Lord wandlessly cast a spell, and the skin on my left forearm begun to burn, and not just tingling burn. My skin was getting scarred, and then it was being cut through, albeit in the shape of the Dark Mark. I bled, and finally, an inky black hue covered my scarred and bleeding skin, and when it cleared, only smooth skin and the Dark Mark was left behind. The pain hadn't stopped, though.

The Death Eaters all remained silent. The Dark Lord then held out his left arm, and looked up at me, right in the eyes. It felt like he was piercing through my soul, and considering who we were talking about, he probably could. At first, I just stared right back at him, confused as to what his want was. But then it clicked, and so I joined hands with him. He then ordered Rudolphus LeStrange to come forward and carry out the vow.

After the Dark Lord turned to Rudolphus and conveyed the vows to Rudolphus through his, what I could only assume, mind, using legilimency, Rudolphus nodded out of his daze and started speaking, whilst casting the spell.

"Do you forever vow your services, as well as allegiance, to the Dark Lord?" he asked.

Nervously, and after taking a breath, I replied, "Yes." A thin golden tendril of magic came out of his wand and wrapped around our joined hands.

"Do you vow to never break the Dark Lord's trust?"

"Yes." Another tendril came and wrapped it around us.

"And finally, do you vow to swear on your life, that you will always bear the Dark Mark, and to serve your Lord, die for him?"

I swallowed. "Y-yes."

The golden tendril burst into sparkles, and then someone spoke. It was the Dark Lord this time.

"Well, welcome... To the ranks of a Death Eater."

.....

3 more months had passed since that initiation, and I was miserable. I had constantly been asked to carry out Death Eater-esque tasks; taking part in attacks, killing and torturing people, the likes. I was also being trained. And I wasn't aware why I'd been surprised in the first place, because it was painfully obvious that such tasks were part of being a Death Eater.

My relationship with the Gryffindor, if you could still even call it that, was going as strong as ever. We still hung out all the time, read books together, and visited the quaint little Cafe.

It had been one month since I'd confronted Lupin about his furry little secret, and he had looked as scared as I could've possibly thought. I'd quickly calmed him down, though, but still he wouldn't listen. He'd apparated away. I'd followed. We had both ended up in different places; knowing Lupin's address, I'd apparated there later, and found said man messing his room up.

Sparing the details, one thing led to another, and we both had ended up taking each other's clothes off, and me telling the man that I loved him; my feelings were reciprocated. Thank Salazar I'd been using a cosmetic spell to cover up my Mark, or things would've gotten messy. Little did I know, they were soon about to.

Sooner than I was comfortable with.

.....

I was sat in the Gryffindor's bed, inside his apartment. Said Gryffindor was currently preparing tea in the kitchen, while I was engrossed in a book about lethal magical creatures.

I had arrived about an hour ago; Lupin had invited me yesterday, but I couldn't come due to a Death Eater attack that I'd been involved in. My injuries and bruises had all been covered up by cosmetic spells and my usual form of clothing: long sleeves. However, I hadn't covered my Mark, because there there was a gash going through it, and there was a bandage wrapped around it; I simply had been too lazy too use a cosmetic spell, even though parts of my Mark were still visible.

I was just about to reach the end of the Vampire chapter, when I heard a distant crack, and the opening of a door. My eyebrows furrowed as I closed my book without even marking the page; who would separate here, at this time? It was probably the Gryffindor's friends, Black and Potter and Pettigrew, but Lupin had said that he'd informed them he was busy today.

Ignoring all the questions in my mind, I swung my legs around the bed, and walked to the living room.

"Lupin, who is it?" Only I needn't ask, because the golden-blonde hair and the Boston dress was enough proof. Crystal Hollander.

I immediately grew nervous; even though she didn't know I killed her sister, I still had an uneasy knot in my stomach.

"Hollander? What ar-"

The girl whipped her head around, looking livid. Lupin peered at me from behind her.

"You!" she exclaimed, pointing one of her sharp nails at me, nostrils flaring. "You filthy Death Eater!"

I tried not to show my surprise, but still my eyes widened a bit, and my brows raised. It was often that people mistook me for a Death Eater, courtesy of my interests in Dark Magic and fashion sense, but I had never ever felt as queasy as I did at that moment.

"What?"

Lupin and I asked at the same time.

"Don't 'what?' me!" Hollander exclaimed. "You know exactly what I'm talking about! You were there, present at the Death Eater attack yesterday!"

"I... Know that," I said. "I was present at the Death Eater attack yesterday. That's why there's all this," I pointed at my split lip and the light bruise on my cheekbone, "on my face."

Hollander let out a frustrated groan/scream at the same time. "Could you stop being so irritating and ju-" the girl's eyes fell on my left forearm. Oh no. "Show me your arm."

"What? Why?"

"Because that's where the Mark is, isn't it? Huh? That's why you're so-"

I let out a typical forced breath of mine, and rolling my eyes, said, "Look, Hollander. I understand that being the reason for my friend's very gruesome death, you're traumatised, and probably have PTSD-"

"What's PTSD?"

"-but that doesn't give you a right to harass me. I know that you want to reduce your guilt, even though I'm pretty sure you don't even have a guilt complex. But I won't have it. Get out," and with that and a sharp glare, I turned on my heel, all ready to walk away, when a voice stopped me.

"Stop..." I turned around at the Gryffindor's voice, looking at him incredulously. "Just show the arm to her... and me," he said, looking stern.

I opened my mouth, trying to say something, but nothing would come out. I probably looked like a fish.

Clenching my jaw, hard, I put a hand on the sleeve of my left arm, ready to lift it. I already was ready to take out my wand.

Closing my eyes, I pulled up my sleeve, and as soon as i was done, I whipped out my wand. It was the right time, too, as Hollander pointed her wand at me at the same time. However, before she could do anything, I Petrificus Totalus-ed her.

My head then swiveled towards Lupin, who was now staring at me with a blank expression. But even though his expression was blank, I knew he was broken inside. His eyes said it all.

"Remus, I can explain, plea-"

"Stupefy! " I took a step to the side, but instead, Lupin got hit.

"Remus!"

"Gryffindor!" hearing the other call of his name, I turned around, meeting the furious eyes of Black, Evans and Potter. Apparently, through all this drama, those three had also made it here. How, I didn't know, because I was sure Lupin had asked them not to. But that didn't matter. They were livid.

Before I could even breathe, they were shooting spells at me, and I was shooting spells at them.

I did the only thing I could possibly do. Which was also incredibly stupid. I pressed on my Mark, and called the other Death Eaters. I was so dumb.

After a long and complicated duel, I finally mustered the courage to cast a spell that I was never able to carry out before. "Prorsus Defixit!" it was just a stronger version of the petrifying spell.

Thankfully, maybe due to the adrenalin in my body, the spell worked, and all three Gryffindors fell to the floor, rigid.

I then turned to look at Lupin and Hollander, who were both also passed out. Well, that was great, but what was I to do about the Death Eater situation? I had acted foolishly, and in a panic, invited Death Eaters here; I guess my reflexes acted out - I had just grown used to calling other Death Eaters when I was in a tight situa-

Crack!

I was too late.

They were already here.

.....

I hoped the Gryffindors were doing well in the Malfoys' dungeons.

It was yesterday when the Death Eaters came and abducted them, and since then they'd been chained up in the cellars.

I hadn't been allowed to visit them, though. Not yet. The Dark Lord though it'd be better for me to be part of a few 'missions'. Why he thought so, I was unaware.

But one thing was clear. I had landed myself in deep shit.

I had been the reason for four people to be held prisoner, out of which three were Order members, one was out for revenge on me, and one was the man I loved.

Wonderful.

.....

Two days later, I was asked to visit my... those Gryffindors.

I was nerve wracked, and rightfully so, too. It wasn't everyday you got to visit your captive boyfriend.

As I made my way through the ominous hallways and staircases of the Malfoy Manor, I thought. The Dark Lord had said that he wanted me to be part of his ranks due to my cunning and cleverness, and knowledge; he'd said a contributing factor was the fact that I was possessed by the soul of his deceased brother. But that was the thing though, he hadn't really even conversed with his brother after I was turned a Death Eater, only a couple times at most. Even then, the pain hadn't lasted that long. And about the intelligence part, he hadn't really tested my wit, or cunning.

It was all so strange. It felt so... normal, now. It always had, even though it never should've. I was literally demonically possessed, but that issue felt so insignificant amidst all my other issues. For example, the fact that the person I'd become a Death Eater for was now hostage, that too because of me. And then, what Dumbledore said. Richard Riddle's soul would never really leave my body; not until the Dark Lord had really died. As in, even his soul was no more. But Dumbledore had said that that wouldn't be possible; not until all parts of his soul were destroyed. Not until the horcruxes were destroyed. And that was near to impossible.

I had asked Dumbledore why the soul just took home in me, why it didn't really possess me, as in control me. He'd said it was because Richard's soul was too weak. He just had one horcrux.

I didn't even realize when I reached the dungeon. I had almost barged into Magnus Fawley; thankfully, I caught myself.

He smirked at me.

I glared at him.

We went our separate ways - me into the cellar, him out of the dungeons.

As I walked in, I noticed that the people chained were all huddled close together. It wasn't really a very important detail, just a mere observation.

My footsteps indicated the prisoners of my arrival, and they looked up. Black, Potter and Hollander glared. Evans seemed as though she was trying to glare, but she couldn't because she was weak. And lupin - oh, his reaction broke my heart - he didn't even have a reaction; he was blank, not meeting my eyes.

I met all of their eyes, and masking my hurt, sat opposite them.

Hollander was already at it.

"You! You Death Eater scum! You're the reason we're all here! What did you lot do to my sist-?"

I groaned. "Hollander," I looked her dead in the eye. "Shut. Up. "

"You can't ask me to shut up! What did you do with my sister, huh? I always knew you were shady, reading those nasty books! You killed her, did you? I'm sure you did! Had fun doing it too, I reckon," she spat at me, her eyes seeing red, nose breathing fire. "And then- then you betray Remus! You loved him, didn't you? Bet it was all a plot, a, a grand scheme! " Her nostrils flared.

Before the Blondie could start again, I Silencio-ed her. She looked comedic.

"Why'd you do that, huh? Death Eater? "

That hurt.

I then mustered up all the self control and braveness I had, and spoke up. "Black, what do you take me for-?"

"-A death Eater, perhaps?"

"-,I'm not just going to sit here and let her blame me for something I very clearly did," I rolled my eyes. Lupin looked up, but looked down again almost instantaneously.

"So... You did kill Hollander's sister?"

"No, I didnt-"

"Oh, don't be modest. You did," Rabastan drawled, smirking, as he strolled in. I snapped my head at him, glaring venomously. Hollander's jaw dropped.

"She looked disgusted with herself; should be, too. Considering the Dark Lord had her in his ranks just because his dea-"

"If you don't shut up now, LeStarnge, I will castrate you."

"Oh, does little miss halfblood even know the spell for that?"

"You wanna see? Don't try me." I raised my brow at him, as his smirk faltered. He then drawled out monotonously, "The Dark Lord needs you to take care of our guests."

"I already am."

"You need to torture them," my jaw clenched. "Bellatrix will help you," and with a devious smirk, he sauntered out.

Although i didn't wish to, I really didn't, I knew the Dark Lord would do it himself and make me watch if I didn't do it. So standing up, I walked to the prisoners, standing in front of them.

"You really are-"

"Filthy? Scum? A git? A prat? A backstabbing cockroach? Thanks so much," I said uninterestedly to Black. "now, who would like to go first?"

"Look, you can't torture Lily."

"And why is it so, Potter?" I looked down at him.

"She... She's pregnant."

My eyes widened and brows raised. "You both thought it would be a good idea to bring a new life to this world during such times? You had sex with your wife in the midst of a war, and got her pregnant? How did you even have time for that?" I looked at him incredulously. He was turning scarlet, while his wife was too tired to even notice.

"You should always use protection." and with that, I pointed my wand at Evans, casting a spell. It wasn't Crucio, though, even I wasn't that heartless. It was imperio, and I forced the woman to writhe and thrash and scream, looking expressionless, all while the others, even Lupin, shouted and cursed at me. Soon, I was done with her and moved onto Black.

Him, though, I used cruciatus. I couldn't afford being caught.

I was done with him after a good ten minutes, and then as I moved to Lupin, Bellatrix entered, cackling.

She immediately went for Evans; she was the mudblood.

"I'm done with the mud blood, you attend to Hollander and Potter."

She went to Hollander first, and tortured her. Tortured her so badly, it was difficult to even look at. Even worse, she'd been cackling through it all. As I moved to Potter, I asked her to stop. She didn't. I asked again.

"Stop it, Bellatrix, that's enough." no response.

"Stop it, Bella." Nope.

"Bellatrix, please, you're going to hurt her more than necessary," My pleas rang out between all the Gryffindors'.

"Enough, Bellatrix!" I exclaimed. I just knew that Richard had taken over; that was clear by the looks everyone was giving me. "Thats... Enough. Just, go out, please."

And she did. Without a question.

.....

It had been after 4 days of the Gryffindprs as our prisoners, when there was a break in at the Manor, obviously by the Order.

I rushed to the dungeons; however on the final stair, collided with the Gryffindors. Immediately casting a shield spell around myself, I took a step back.

I then removed the spell.

"You can go," they looked suspicious, so I dropped my wand. "I... Go. Just be careful, Potter. Prophecies... " I decided not to tell them too much, as even I wasn't fully sure of what was happening.

"Be careful." and with that, I stepped back, making way for them.

As the group walked past me, wands aimed, still suspicious, I called after them. Also, could you, maybe... Make me pass out?"

.....

It had been fifteen years. Fifteen years since I let those Gryffindors elope, most of whom had dreadful fates. Fifteen years since I'd seen Lupin.

You see, maybe it was just destiny being cruel, but up until Voldemort's (yes, I call him that now, I'm brave) downfall, me and Lupin had never crossed paths. After the Potters' deaths, I'd left the country, becoming a wanderer. I changed my name and past each time; sometimes I was a hippie, sometimes a businesswoman, sometimes a struggling artist.

But now, as I set foot inside Grimmauld Place, my nerves wracked again. I would see Lupin, and maybe he wouldn't even remember me.

But I, however, was still nervous. I was about to meet the boy who lived. I was about to meet Black. I was about to meet all those Order members I said I didn't trust. And I was going to be helping them.

The papers in my hands were quite important.

I knocked on the door. A chubby woman opened the door; that was probably Molly Weasley.

Her face fell. "You're here... The meeting got over-"

"I'm aware. I was... A bit busy," I held up the papers. "Could you please...?" I motioned inside, and Molly moved aside. I walked in, following the path I knew led to the dining room.

"Dear, they're having-"

"Dinner? That won't be a problem." I smiled at Molly as I turned the knob of the dining room's door, and all eyes turned to me. Among them was a pair of light greenish-blue eyes that I'd craved to see, bit I couldn't meet.

I raised an eyebrow. "Well, isn't this a pretty sight." I smiled a sickeningly sweet smile and entered, everyone still gazing at me. Black was clutching his fork so hard his knuckles were going white, while. molly still looked troubled.

"Greetings," I scanned the crowd, "Gryffindors." my eyebrows jumped. I dropped the papers right in front of Black.

"Here is your information. You're welcome. I now must leave, because I have work to att-"

"Who are you?"

"-end. You should never interrupt," I said, looking pointedly at Potter Jr. "Even if you are the boy who lived."

"I-" Potter was cut off by Black.

"He asked something, why don't you answer him?" Ugh. And they say Slytherins are evil.

I thought a bit. Then, "I'm the reason you even got the chance to be born." The Potter boy looked confused, but before he could ask, someone spoke up. Go to hell, Black.

"How so?"

"Could you not interrupt in between? That's what I just told the boy, but then again, you are excruciatingly dumb."

"I'm not dumb. I just pointed something out. And you're one to say; Miss-I'm-So-Edgy."

"Oh well, Mister-I'm-an-adult-but-still-a-child, you could maybe not have interrupted in between of a conversation?"

"You're so difficult."

"You're dense, and a literal man-child."

"You're evil, and nutty."

"You're annoying, and a pathetic drama queen. I'm a hundred percent sure that when you met your Godson, who thought you were a murderer, and confronted that rat, you said something along the lines of," I cleared my throat, " 'Only one shall die tonight.' and then went off behaving immature."

Judging by the look on his face, I was right.

I smirked, and then, to Potter, said, "Potter Jr., there was once a time when your parents, along with a few dear friends were locked up in the dungeons of the Malfoy Manor, and I was tasked with taking care-torturing them, if you will," I raised an eyebrow, "And your father had been dumb enough to have se-"

"Stop-"

"-Could you please not interrupt me, Black?" I said, frustrated.

"Well, you were about to-"

"-Tell the boy that his parents had sex? Well, Black, he has to be really thick to not know about that-"

"-He's just 15-!"

"-just 15?" I scoffed. "You had bedded half the Hogwarts population by the age of fifteen, Black, and then some." That made him shut up. I smirked again. He narrowed his eyes.

"so, mini Potter, your mum was dumb enough to have sex and get pregnant amidst a war, and she was pregnant in the Malfoy dungeons. And do you know what? If I'd tortured your mum, you would have lost your life in her womb. There would be no 'The Boy Who Lived', and Voldemort would've reigned. But I didn't. Because there were prophecies involved, and spirits, too."

I knew that was way too vague and cryptic, but that was all I said.

And as I turned and left the room to apparate away I could faintly hear the conversations inside.

"Who was she?"

Lupin sighed. "My ex-girlfriend."

I smiled, and then was engulfed in smoke as I apparated away.

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callwrites · 3 years

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BENEATH THE WILLOW TREE: Chapter II

This is, at some level, a love story. But before Andromeda’s name was burned from the tapestry of her family tree, before she took Ted’s name and Ted’s ring, she was Andromeda Black; a girl caught between worlds. This is the story of how that came to be.

Chapter I.

read on a03 @Linquist

The feast was as delicious as ever, though the meal passed with a strange tension that could not totally be accounted for - either by Lucius’s scowl or Bellatrix’s complaints about the new Defense professor. Both Andromeda and Rodolphus struggled to find their footing; both were caught up in remembering his earlier conversation, with one of them pretending they hadn’t heard it.

“You’re not having dessert?” Rodolphus attempted to smile, seeing Andromeda refraining from the treacle tart she normally enjoyed.

“No, I’m headed to the greenhouses after this. I don’t want Professor Sprout to have to roll me out,” joked Andromeda weakly.

“You’re still doing that?” Bellatrix sighed.

“I told you last night I was,” said Andromeda a little defensively. “Professor Sprout got new Venomous Tentacula pods in last week and needs help repotting them - or else they’re liable to try to take a bite out of the third years tomorrow.”

“I think what Bellatrix means …” said Rodolphus with a sharp look at her older sister, “is that we’re just surprised you want to spend your first night back at the castle elbow-deep in manure.”

“You’re not going to be keeping that up after this year, will you?” Lucius asked skeptically.

“I was planning on it,” said Andromeda, trying to keep the sharpness out of her tone. “I like the greenhouses. And herbology is very helpful for potionwork.”

“And you’re very talented at both,” went on Rodolphus in a diplomatic tone. It irked Andromeda, despite the caring words she had overheard. “But surely you can learn what you need from books. You can afford to buy the ingredients for your potions … without dirt involved.”

“Especially with a professor like her ,” added Bellatrix. “I understand you enjoy your studies, but you need to think about the appearance of things.”

Lucius was smirking and it made Andromeda want to knock the platter of treacle tart into his face. But losing her cool benefited no one - especially when Bellatrix apparently already had her own doubts.

“Well, I’m confident that the appearance of things will improve after my O.W.L. results,” she managed to say, pushing back from the table. “With five prefects, I’m sure you’re well able to handle the first years and I’ll be back in time for curfew.”

“Andie,” Rodolphus murmured quietly, taking her hand as she stood.

“Good night,” she said a little coolly. She took a deep breath and softened her tone. “I’ll be back soon. I’ll show you that piece if you’re still up.”

“It’s a date,” he said with a smile.

“It’s a date,” she agreed, unable to keep back her own smile.

She ignored Lucius’s snort, returned Bellatrix’s good night, and left the Great Hall.

Outside of the feast, the entrance hall was empty. Dessert was still underway and spirits remained high. Andromeda met no resistance as she made her way to the enormous doors of the castle and pushed her way through. The grounds were almost too dark to see, but she knew her way to the greenhouses by heart.

In the distance, the windows of the caretaker’s hut glowed warmly and, not for the first time, Andromeda wondered about the strange man who lived there. He had once found her lost as a first year and kindly helped her find the Great Hall - Bellatrix had lectured her for close to half an hour after coldly dismissing him. Her mother had then written to inform her that she was not to speak to him.

There was no time to dwell. A light was on in greenhouse three, the door kept ajar by an empty pot. Andromeda stepped inside, shuffling in a bouncing bulb making a daring escape, and closed the door behind her.

“Evening, Black,” Professor Sprout said cheerfully. “How was the feast?”

“Good evening, professor,” Andromeda replied, taking the dragon-hide gloves that had been set aside for her. “It was delicious as usual. How was your summer?”

“Busy!” She grinned. “But come on, these tentacula won’t re-pot themselves.”

Andromeda dutifully lined up beside Sprout, who stood before a low table that boasted about a dozen young and teething venomous tentacula. With a practiced hand, Andromeda pulled one towards her, distracting it with a gloved finger while she grabbed the larger pot and soil.

“Our 6th years will be raising them and learning how to harvest them for ingredients,” she explained in her usual cheerful tone. “They’re not too deadly yet, but once they’re trying to strangle us we'll know they're ready to go.”

“I can see that,” Andromeda said bemusedly, using her elbow to knock away a vine that was reaching suspiciously towards her.

Professor Pomona Sprout had only been teaching at Hogwarts for a year. She had arrived, in a flurry of enthusiasm and rare plants, when the wizened old herbology professor retired with most of his remaining fingers. Bellatrix had immediately distrusted her, despite not having continued with herbology herself (she was of the opinion that a witch should not be elbow deep in dragon dung). But Professor Sprout had seen Andromeda’s deft hand and noticed her frequent after hours visits to the greenhouses. She began giving her ‘extra credit’ assignments and slowly introducing her to the N.E.W.T. level plants she kept in the corners of greenhouse three. When Andromeda showed a more careful hand than some of her seventh years, she began to invite her to assist with some of the prep work for those classes.

Bellatrix hardly approved and Andromeda was sure their mother would not either. Professor Sprout was pureblood, they were reasonably sure, but she hardly acted like it. She was a Hufflepuff, for one - a house known for blood traitors and muggleborns. She embodied everything that Druella Black would consider ‘inappropriate’ for pureblood behavior; from the way she dressed, to the way she talked, to the way she had kicked out Rabastan Lestrange on her very first day. He had called someone a mudblood and been immediately been given detention and sent to Slughorn. Despite Bellatrix's misgivings, she had chosen not to write to their mother about her concerns - so long, of course, as Andromeda remained appropriate boundaries.

The two never talked about personal things or politics. In fact, Sprout and Andromeda rarely talked at all. They settled into their routine, as usual, and enjoyed the companionable silence with the occasional crunching of dead rats fed to the hungry plants.

As they potted the last one, Andromeda patted it soothingly. It made a low contented growl while it gnawed sleepily on a rat. Sprout stepped away from the table with a satisfied sigh.

“That’ll do then, Black,” She said with a smile. “The 6th years will be able to analyze and feed them for the next few weeks before they’ll need to re-pot them again. You did good.”

“Thank you, professor,” Andromeda said softly, stepping out of the reach of the vines and taking off her gloves. “I appreciate you letting me help.”

“Made my job easier,” she said with her eye crinkling smile. “Are you still interested in taking on the wiggentree?”

Andromeda nodded and went to hang up the gloves. "I've been doing my reading and I'll get started next class. I'll need to get my prefect schedule before I can plan my greenhouse visits."

"Excellent, excellent," said Sprout from behind her, sounding satisfied. “You should start thinking about your N.E.W.T. special project.”

Andromeda turned around, eyebrows raised in surprise.

“It is early,” Sprout admitted. “But do some thinking. With your record, I could convince Dumbledore to bring in some rarer plants for you.”

“I don’t know if I will be continuing herbology,” confessed Andromeda, leaving Sprout looking surprised.

“Why not?” She asked, hands on her hips again. “You’ve the greenest thumb at Hogwarts, ‘sides me. And it seems you like the plants as much as they like you.”

Andromeda flushed and opened her mouth to answer, but found herself hesitating. She found she didn’t want to tell Sprout that her family didn’t think it was befitting for a daughter of Black. She didn’t want to put down the professor who had supported her or the subject she loved.

“Think about it,” said Sprout in a gentler tone. “I can recommend some books to you and you can do some research. You’re a talented witch, Black. You’ve got more options than you think you do.”

She nodded, face burning, and fled the greenhouse. Out on the grounds, a slight chill in the air stung her heated cheeks. In the distance, a lantern bobbed along the edge of the Forbidden forest; illuminating the caretaker on some errand. She didn’t think about her curiosity. She found she didn’t want to think at all actually. Sprout had meant her words kindly, but Andromeda found they festered uncomfortably in the back of her throat.

She made her way to the common room in a bit of a daze. The familiar path to the dungeon was one she could take in her sleep. Thankful she had the password as a prefect, she slipped into the Slytherin common room with ten minutes to spare.

Bellatrix sat in the armchair by the fire, feet tucked up beside her and looking very cozy. When she saw Andromeda enter, she checked her name off the list in her lap. Then her nose wrinkled as the smell of dragon dung manure hit her.

“Gross, Meda,” she complained and Andromeda grinned.

“Oh, come on, Bella,” she teased. “Why don’t we curl up and read together, just like old times?”

“Clean up and I’ll think about,” she sneered, but Andromeda heard the affection in her sister’s voice and recognized her struggle not to smile.

“Narcissa already headed to bed?” She asked and Bella nodded.

“She starts ancient runes tomorrow and was positively vibrating with excitement,” she explained, affection much more apparent now. “She said the sooner she went to bed, the sooner she could go to class.”

“Teacher's pet,” Andromeda smiled, happy for their youngest sister.

“At least she chose better than you did,” said Bellatrix pointedly.

“I took ancient runes too! And arithmancy.” She said, crossing her arms.

“Yes, and I also remember mother almost going into hysterics when she found out you also signed up for divination ,” said her oldest sister distastefully.

“You just don’t like that I spent all year predicting your demise,” she grinned.

“Yes, some seer you turned out to be,” said Bellatrix with a roll of her eyes, but she was smiling again. “Go wash off. You reek.”

Andromeda was smiling when she finally made her way towards the stairs, passing by the piano against the wall. A note sat on it, in Rodolphus’s neat handwriting.

Raincheck? It read.

She summoned a quill and scrawled a quick ‘it’s a date’ and left it there, before hurrying up the stairs. The smell was starting to get to her too.

Her housemates were up and swapping stories about their summers when she finally arrived. They paused long enough to greet her and wrinkle their noses at the smell. She waved off their invitation to join them, explaining she just wanted to go to bed as soon as she washed up.

Soon enough, she was pulling closed the curtains of her four poster and falling into bed beside an already sleeping Valerian. But she found she didn’t feel tired at all. Her thoughts were buzzing, unwilling to let her rest. She thought about the conversation she had overheard between Rodolphus and Bella. Why was Bella worried? Especially about what he thought of her?

She could understand why Rodolphus would have concerns, but he seemed as sure of her as ever. She had never stepped out of line, but for the once. And Rod had promised to keep her secret.

You’ve got more options than you think you do, she heard Sprout’s voice.

She rolled over, trying to drown it out, and punched her pillow. No, she didn’t. And she didn’t want them either. She’d be Bella and Cissa’s sister. Eventually, she would be Rodolphus’s wife.

She didn’t want any other options, she told herself. She didn’t.

#hp fic #tedromeda #tedromeda fic #harry potter fanfiction #fanfic #beneath the willow tree #my fics

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saintheartwing · 4 years

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So About That Stupid Reddit Harry Potter Neoliberal Meme...

Okay, I’ve seen this meme a bunch of times and I want to actually try to debunk it. So here goes.

First thing’s first. “Embracing change and the progression of history”. For ages in the books, since Dobby first came around, and the broad existence of house elves was a thing, it was pretty clear that wizards treated non-wizards pretty damn badly. This was INCREDIBLY clear from not only how house elves got treated, but from how muggles got treated in the series, with the fact that Death Eaters could just casually pop up and float muggles around and laugh and jeer and hardly anyone does anything to STOP them. They’re all more scared and more quick to take action over a symbol in the sky than to stop people actually hurting innocent non-wizards and witches.

In addition, throughout the final books, it’s clear the old ways failed miserably. The old guard that was in the Order of the Phoenix can’t really stop the Death Eaters. In fact, almost all of them die. It’s the new generation who’s more open-minded and liberal and people like Kingsley Shacklebolt, who’s just like that AND an African American who takes the position formerly held by stupid, stuffy, short-sighted old white guys, that actually effect change in the end. Pretty sure the symbolism was clear on that end. Despite Hermione being insulted by people like Ron or Harry being exasperated at first by her concern for House Elves, it’s Hermione who ends up being very clearly right. Her heart is in the right place and her goals are noble, she just had to learn to actually listen to what the groups she was fighting for wanted, she had to really UNDERSTAND them. And that becomes much more clear and shown in the final couple of books with Kreacher. She GETS him. Kreacher DOES like being a servant, sure, and he probably would drop dead of a heart attack if he was told to just outright leave the Black House because the Blacks, except Sirius, treated him kindly, but being a servant doesn’t mean he doesn’t deserve respect and dignity and compassion.

Hell, Dumbledore was very clearly willing to PAY Dobby twice as much money and vacation days that he asked for. So clearly, he was willing to do the same for any of them if they asked. But he kept in mind “they don’t ALL want this, I have to consider what THEY want”. You can’t just assume you know best for an oppressed group. You have to take in mind their considerations, THEIR circumstances, and work to advocate for them with these things in mind. A lesson learned by Harry and Ron that Hermione picked up first. And she’s the one who advocates at the Ministry when she REALLY picks up.

As JK herself said, “ Hermione began her post-Hogwarts career at the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures where she was instrumental in greatly improving life for house-elves and their ilk. She then moved (despite her jibe to Scrimgeour) to the Department of Magical Law Enforcement where she was a progressive voice who ensured the eradication of oppressive, pro-pureblood laws.”

So Hermione helps get rights for non-wizards and witches, and eventually becomes the Minister of Magic and does even MORE good along that line, and Harry helps to enforce those progressive laws, continuing to fight for a more just world.

But let’s move past Hermione. Back to the post. Harry is little more than a passive observer...because he’s the point of view character, for one, meant to be a stand-in for the reader as well, AND...he’s a teenager. He’s all of SEVENTEEN when he finally defeats Voldemort. And he does the best he can, he’s the one that gets Dobby the House Elf freed, not just because he felt he owed Dobby, but because he empathized with the elf.

And acting like VOLDEMORT is an instigator of change...uh, does the author not realize that while Voldemort’s in power, muggles are being killed randomly ALL the time, AND muggle-borns are being ROUNDED UP AND LOCKED UP? Like, in camps? And they’re accused of stealing magic and being traitors? Like the Jews were in World War II’s Germany?! Does the author of the post not remember that? And ALL of the people who advocate whole-heartedly for keeping away from muggles totally and pure-bloodedness are portrayed as effing bigots who deserve a boot up their ass. Dolores Umbridge, who calls centaurs freaks and half-breeds and the like and doesn’t even think they’re sentient. The Malfoys. Voldemort and the Death Eaters themselves. And who are the good guys BESIDES Harry?

A pure-blood kid who’s family who’s dad is a champion of muggle rights, and a muggle-born witch. So in other words, the people who advocate for the rights of-non-magical people are clearly in the right, THEY’RE the good guys. Those that don’t? Bad guys. Obvious bad guys. BOO these men. BOOOO these men!

And Harry beating Voldemort isn’t just about some obscure technicality. None of that would have happened if Harry hadn’t beaten Draco Malfoy at Malfoy Manor and taken his wand. And then there was how he destroyed the diary, how he fought off Voldemort in his first year, how he got away from Voldemort in the graveyard, a lot of it was luck, but a lot more of it was also pure bravery and being surprisingly skilled in magic on top of that, with a little bit of help every now and then from the people he loves. It’s not like Harry is a stupid moron. He gets quite good grades AND he’s solved plenty of mysteries at Hogwarts. He’s the one who figures out where the Chamber of Secrets is and what’s inside, he’s the one who realizes Malfoy’s a Death Eater and the like, he’s the one who figures out the secrets of what the Hallows are.

So Harry isn’t some dumb blank slate who just exists to enforce a system. He’s not. And he’s VERY CLEARLY bothered by the conflict. He too finds himself disgusted with how house elves get treated, he’s disgusted by the treatment of muggle borns by Voldemort, he’s infuriated by the stupid rules of the Ministry and how unfair and arbitrary they seem, and how often they seem to let blatant injustice go by. We see that when he’s diving into the Pensieve with Dumbledore, going through the memories. Even if Morfin was a total jerk, that the Ministry didn’t really bother to CHECK PROPERLY to see if he’d done it by going through his memories disgusted Harry. They essentially condemned him to die based off flimsy circumstantial evidence. He’s also disgusted with how the Ministry AUTOMATICALLY assumed Hokey the House Elf was guilty just because she was a house elf.

Also, one more thing. Beating Voldemort was a big deal. But who takes down his Death Eaters, meaning he has no army to conquer people and take over anymore? The new generation leading the charge, overwhelming them all. It’s the STUDENTS OF HOGWARTS, who got TAUGHT by Harry and Ron and Hermione and the others in Dumbledore’s Army, who do the most damage to the Death Eaters and finally end up finishing them...oh, them and Molly Weasley, another pure blood who’s sympathetic to the muggle cause, who teaches the bigot Bellatrix Lestrange a lesson.

And of course, Hagrid, who manages to cream the death eater that tried to kill his hippogriff. We can’t forget Hagrid. YES, he’s a bit silly to assume monsters are all just misunderstood, but the bigotry and cruelty shown towards him when it’s revealed he’s a half giant is UNQUESTIONABLY shown as being horrible, cruel, spiteful, and just plain unfair. Harry is unfuriated. Ron is in a foul mood. And Hermione is just about to shove her foot up Rita Skeeter’s ass for what she wrote about him. Anyone who reads the books and thinks that the series doesn’t take a strong enough stance about standing up and calling this shit out, and taking ACTION clearly hasn’t actually read the books! And that’s BEFORE we get into the prison system. Yeah, Azkaban? They get rid of the Dementors. Dumbedore always advocated FOR getting rid of them and he was the one portrayed as being mostly in the right, despite royally f--king some things up. Did the author just forget this?

Sorry. Anyway...said my piece. This reddit meme’s basically full of crap. That’s all I’ve got to say.

#Harry Potter #politics #Neoliberal #reddit #meme

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youve-cath-to-be-kitten-me · 5 years

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CONGRATULATIONS!!! I follow you because of your kindness and enthusiasm, plus fellow Slytherin solidarity. Fandom fact: my godly parent is Athena. Can I ask for a 🎤, a complimet, what character you associate me with, an a HP blog rate? Thank you!

Thank you Vale!

Song Association 🎤 - Young and Beautiful by Lana del Rey

Compliment 💗 - Actually, your follower celebration was the first one I’d ever participated in, and you’re the blog that made me wonder what it’d be like to reach out to other people on the site and have enough followers to have a celebration! Not to mention you’re ITALIAN. Italy is probably my favorite country in the entire world (the food, the language, EVERYTHING) You’re so supportive and kind and overall a fantastic, loving person! Ily!

Fictional Character 📖 - Oooh probably Nina Zenik from Six of Crows. You both are so much fun and sort of act as a mom friend of your group, but specifically the fun mom that has all these great ideas. (Also you’re both dating tall guys lol). You also give off a similar vibe, but I can’t figure out exactly what it is.

Harry Potter Blog Rate ⚡️ -

Generation - Fantastic Beasts, Marauders, Hogwarts Mystery, Golden Trio, Next Gen

House - Hufflepuff, Slytherin, Ravenclaw, Gryffindor

Best Friend - Newt Scamander, Theseus Scamander, Tina Goldstein, Queenie Goldstein, Jacob Kowalski, Leta Lestrange, Credence Barebone, Remus Lupin, Sirius Black, James Potter, Lily Evans, Severus Snape, Regulus Black, Molly Weasley, Arthur Weasley, Penny Haywood, Ben Copper, Barnaby Lee, Rowan Khanna, Charlie Weasley, Bill Weasley, Nymphadora Tonks, Merula Snyde, Ismelda Murk, Andre Egwu, Tulip Karasu, Harry Potter, Ron Weasley, Hermione Granger, Luna Lovegood, Cho Chang, Percy Weasley, Fred Weasley, George Weasley, Ginny Weasley, Lee Jordan, Draco Malfoy, Oliver Wood, Blaise Zabini, Cedric Diggory, Seamus Finnigan, Dean Thomas, Pansy Parkinson, James Sirius Potter, Albus Severus Potter, Lily Luna Potter, Scorpius Malfoy, Teddy Lupin, Victoire Weasley, Louis Weasley, Dominique Weasley, Rose Granger-Weasley, Hugo Granger-Weasley, Lorcan Scamander, Lysander Scamander, Fred Weasley II, Roxanne Weasley, Molly Weasley II, Lucy Weasley

Familiar/Pet - Cat, Owl, Toad

Best Class - Transfiguration, Defense Against the Dark Arts, Potions, Herbology, Charms, Care of Magical Creatures, Astronomy, Arithmancy, Flying, History of Magic, Divination, Muggle Studies, Ancient Runes

Enemy - Dolores Umbridge, Voldemort, Death Eaters, Grindelwald, Jacob (Y/L/N), Madame Rakepick, Exams, The Golden Trio, The Silver Trio, the basilisk, Lucius Malfoy, Bellatrix Lestrange, Barty Crouch Jr., Fenrir Greyback, Rita Skeeter, Peter Pettigrew, Nagini, dementors, Severus Snape, Gilderoy Lockhart, The Ministry of Magic

Favorite Teacher - Minerva McGonagall, Albus Dumbledore, Filius Flitwick, Madame Pomfrey, Horace Slughorn, Pomona Sprout, Sybil Trelawney, Remus Lupin, Severus Snape, Professor Binns, Rubeus Hagrid, Silvanus Kettleburn

Quidditch Position - Chaser, Keeper, Seeker, Beater, Commentator

Spell/Charm/Curse of Choice - Riddikulus, Obliviate, Alohomora, Lumos, Expelliarmus, Wingardium Leviosa, Expecto Patronum, Accio, Protego, Stupefy, Sectumsempra, Aparecium, Arresto Momentum, Incendio, Aguamenti, Avis, Levicorpus

Job - Auror, Professional Quidditch Player, Cursebreaker, Professor, Magizoologist, Healer, Journalist, Ministry Official, Minister of Magic, Headmaster/Headmistress, Wandmaker

Favorite Magical Object - Wand, Marauder’s Map, Invisibility Cloak, Weasley’s Wizarding Wheezes Products, Broomstick, the Golden Snitch, Remembrall, Deluminator, Howler, Sneakoscope, Weasley Family Clock, Wizard’s Chess

#thank you ily #cath celebrates 100 #luciexfairchild #vale

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ao3feed-jily · 4 years

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Would You Love Me More (If I Killed Someone For You)

read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/2vNJahU

by honeycottage

Walburga Black was never the most loving parent, Sirius knew this. It was why he stuck around for so long. He wanted to protect Regulus. And maybe he thought perhaps if he stuck around, his mother would love him one day. But if he thought that, it was his business only. Realizing, however, that pranking people and acting out to keep his mother's ire on himself and not on his younger brother meant that his mother was close to disowning him, Sirius changed tactics and played The Perfect Black Heir.

It worked, for a time.

Until his mother made him take The Dark Mark

Words: 3735, Chapters: 1/?, Language: English

Fandoms: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings

Categories: Gen

Characters: Sirius Black II, Sirius Black, James Potter, Lily Evans Potter, Remus Lupin, Peter Pettigrew, Regulus Black, Severus Snape, Albus Dumbledore, Walburga Black, Orion Black, Bellatrix Black Lestrange, Narcissa Black Malfoy, Lucius Malfoy, Rodolphus Lestrange, Death Eater Characters, Tom Riddle | Voldemort

Relationships: Sirius Black & Remus Lupin, Sirius Black & James Potter, Sirius Black & Severus Snape, Sirius Black & Peter Pettigrew, Sirius Black & Lily Evans Potter, Sirius Black & Remus Lupin & Peter Pettigrew & James Potter & Lily Evans Potter, Regulus Black & Sirius Black, Regulus Black & Severus Snape, Regulus Black & James Potter, Regulus Black & Remus Lupin, Regulus Black & Lily Evans Potter, Minor or Background Relationship(s), James Potter/Lily Evans Potter, Sirius Black/Remus Lupin

Additional Tags: Canon-Typical Violence, Child Abuse, Torture, Character Death, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, This Is Not Going To Go The Way You Think, It's Not Paranoia If They're Really Out To Get You, Walburga Black's A+ Parenting, Orion Black's A+ Parenting, Sirius Black is a Good Sibling

read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/2vNJahU

#ao3feed #fanfic #Harry Potter #Jily #James Potter #Lily Evans #Lily Potter #Lily Evans Potter

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ao3feed-snape · 4 years

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Would You Love Me More (If I Killed Someone For You)

read it on AO3 at https://ift.tt/2vNJahU

by honeycottage

It worked, for a time.

Until his mother made him take The Dark Mark

Words: 3735, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

Fandoms: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings

Categories: Gen

read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/2vNJahU

#IFTTT #ao3feed #fanfic #Severus Snape #Snape #Professor Snape #SS

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lordavanti · 7 years

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Hvitserk Ragnarsson x Reader Part II

Request: I really love your fanfics ❤️ You have amazing writing skills, whenever I read your stories I always find soul and real feelings in your characters! 😊 I thought about it how Hvitserk is underestimated and maybe you can show him with a Viking Girl. She is fearless but in not a good way, she doesn't think about consequences, but she's so girly and cute always smiling (like sunshine Bellatrix Lestrange haha). It will be fun to see him dealing with her bc she is real troublemaker! Words: 1934

You pushed the arrow into the crossbow, checking its tension before your crouched down, gazed aside you to the cripple who laid flat on his stomach into the grass. He challenged you, stating that a crossbow never could be that good as an normal bow. But you made that crossbow yourself, you learned a lot from your father before he ships you off to marry a prince in Kattegat. ‘That barrel.’ He pointed out. You brought the crossbow up into shooting position and looked over to the village. You were out scouting but instead you were playing around with a cripple. ‘Be amazed.’ You grinned while aiming. And when you shoot that arrow kicked into the barrel with a massive force of power. That wide grin jumped on your lips while you got up, making some victory dance for everybody to see. You weren’t the shy type, more the other way around. Your father married you off to a Ragnarsson in the hope you would learn to get some responsibilities. Well he was wrong. Your eyes traveled back to the barrel only to see the man standing aside of it, looking at you swinging around with your crossbow. ‘We are under attack!’ He yelled. ‘That was not the intention.’ You suppressed your giggling before turning around and disappearing into the woods with the cripple again. Everything was in some way a joke, even this marriage. It wasn’t even with the funny cripple to begin with; you had to do it with Hvitserk. He stood aside his brother when you and Ivar arrived. ‘You better get your weapons in order, we are about to go into a fight.’ Ivar announced. ‘What did you do now?’ Hvitserk asked you. You looked down to your shoes, or the crossbow that rested against the tip of your toes. ‘It was an accident.’ You reacted, titling your head and throwing Hvitserk an innocent seductive smile. ‘You gonna get us all killed some day.’ He shook his head, following his elder brother to prepare for a fight. ‘We needed to fight anyway, so why the delay.’ You shrugged, looking down to Ivar who chuckled and crawled himself over to the chariot. At least he saw the humor in your mistake. You maybe act like a spoiled dangerous girl; nobody could judge you on your fighting skills. You pulled out the two half long swords out of the holders on your back and turned them around your wrist as you saw the first couple of enemies coming. There wasn’t anything more trilling than the adrenaline of a fight and Hvitserk as your husband admired that about you. He loved to see you fight just as you loved it as he played along in your little games from day to day. You started to fight, ducking, stabbing and smile like an idiot every time you got one down. After some time in marriage you learned to anticipate into your marriage, Hvitserk had a hard time handling you but when it came on a fight you covered him as much as he defended you. So maybe this was your favorite time with him, apart for the other things he was so good at. Those thoughts caused a elbow to push through into your ribs, causing you to gaps while you fell down to the ground. ‘Y/n.’ Hvitserk called out. The axe kicked into your offender before he dropped dead and you rolled onto your stomach, looking for some air. Hvitserk ran over, taking you with your shoulders to turn you around to him again. ‘Alright?’ He asked with a little concern. You held your hand against your chest while your breathing slowly started again. ‘I didn’t knew you could be that concerned.’ You said through gasps. ‘The gods are punishing you Y/n.’ He answered. You looked up to his slightly blooded face, smiling that innocents again. ‘You rather like the punish me yourself?’ You asked, biting your lip while tilting your head. ‘We both know the answer on that.’ He pulled you up and you grabbed for your swords again. Most of the battle died, it wasn’t a hard one to begin with but Lagertha asked for a justified one and you just totally screw that one up. ‘Can you forgive me?’ You asked, slowly laying your arm over his shoulder pulling yourself closer to him. He snuggled his nose aside yours, pulling that longing trace to your ear. ‘It’s not me you need to convince.’ He whispered. You traced back to him, placing your lips on his. He held still for a moment before he kissed you with that full passion. There wasn’t any love between you and Hvitserk, there was just desire. He was your husband, your father forced you to marry him and you never wanted it. Now Hvitserk had to deal with you and in some way it was fun to do. You pulled back out of that kiss, looking up from his lips to his eyes with that little grin all over your face. But before you even could enjoy more of him because he was very enjoyable on that level, you had to finish of another assailer. You pushed Hvitserk away, wounding the men by ducking underneath his sword, slitting the back of his knees while he stumbled past you. He got on his knees and you stand aside him, clenching your fingers through his hair and pulling his head up. ‘Never mess with the cute girls.’ You whispered in his ear, looking over to Hvitserk who studied you in a way you liked it. Your sword slit his neck, closing your eyes when little splashed of blood got onto your face and he dropped dead on the ground. ‘You are so much trouble.’ Hvitserk whispered. ‘Trouble you like.’ ‘On an occasion or two yes.’ He smiled charming. Lagertha send the sons of Ragnar to this village to negotiate, she said to use no violence and yet here you stood, a whole village slaughtered down except for some good people, farmers, slaves. Because it was to late to travel back to Kattegat Ubbe wanted to stay the night here making you in the excellent mood to make a big camp fire. As the only girl of the group everybody gazed at the way you danced around the fire, throwing another log of fire on it so the flames grew in strength. You looked up to the dark sky and laughed, enjoying this magic time for yourself. ‘Dance with me?’ You asked Hvitserk who sat aside his two other brothers. You shifted your weight from the one leg to the other, gazing at him with that tempting innocent glare. ‘I sure would if I had the legs.’ Ivar breathed out, looking at you all admiring. You drank up the last of your ale and threw your cup behind you in the fire. ‘We could do other things to.’ You suggested the cripple. Ivar his smiled darkened before Hvitserk pulled you in his direction just as you arrived at the youngest brother. You landed on his lap, giggling while you threw your hands around his neck. ‘Not eager to share husband?’ You asked gentle. His hands traveled to the small of your back, pulling you even a little closer. ‘I take that as a no.’ You whispered before placing your lips on his, trailing your fingers over his jawline and neck. That every Viking around had a clear shot on this didn’t matter for you, it only made it so much more enjoyable. Hvitserk nipped on your neck and you closed your eyes, humming on the feelings he caused. A hand traveled up over your leg underneath the dress and you opened your eyes, looking aside to Ivar who just couldn’t keep his hands home. ‘She’s mine brother.’ Hvitserk warned him. Ivar pulled back, giving you that smile you almost couldn’t resist yourself. He could be some trouble in your life you gladly would welcome. But Hvitserk wasn’t planning on sharing you so all focus got back to him. His lips traveled more down to your chest, snuggling his nose under the fabrics of your clothes. A soft moan escaped your lips. ‘If this is punishment for my disobedience I have to disobey more often.’ You whispered, pulling his braids so he looked up to you again. ‘You are right, we should stop.’ ‘You can’t.’ You challenged him. When you looked aside to Ubbe he was giving you a rather angry look. ‘What is on your mind Ubbe?’ You asked him a little annoyed. ‘You have to explain this to Lagertha tomorrow.’ ‘I was practicing my shooting, somebody saw it, done and done.’ You shrugged. ‘This was important, you blew it, I hope you live under the mercy of the queen.’ Ubbe reacted while standing up and walking away. You looked back to Hvitserk. ‘He is right you know.’ He softly agreed with his elder brother. ‘I can handle myself.’ ‘I hope it for you.’ Lagertha was in the not slightest amused by your stunt from the day before. You stood there before her in the great hall, Astrid and Torvi loyal at her side like two watchdogs obeying her every command. You never liked that kind of a position, you were made to bend the rules, be a queen yourself. The idea crossed your mind somewhere when your father gave you away to Hvitserk but it never sat foot in your actions. Now looking to that stern face of that woman in the throne just seemed to spark that. ‘You accidently shoot an arrow and somebody saw you?’ She repeated your statement. Hvitserk stood against the wall aside Ivar who just needed to do his best not to chuckle. ‘And it caused an attack in which you had to kill everybody?’ She followed. You shrugged. ‘That covers it.’ You nodded. Lagertha rested her hand on her wrist and looked over to Hvitserk. ‘Can’t you not contain her?’ She asked him. What? ‘I’m a free woman, no need to contain that.’ ‘You are a wife; it’s your duty to live up to your husband.’ Lagertha hissed softly. You lifted your chin a little up, looking to her in stubbornness. ‘Lucky for you, you are married to a son of Ragnar, otherwise I would banish you. Now I just need to find another way to punish you.’ She announced. Punishment? ‘Because there was an attack?’ You asked, spotting on the words she just said to you. ‘An attack you caused Y/n.’ Lagertha shouted, standing up from her seat. ‘Who doesn’t obey just has to feel. Take her.’ She ordered her woman. Astrid and Torvi came from their position. ‘No.’ Hvitserk jumped between you and the two of them. ‘My wife, my responsibility. I will take the punishment, whatever it is.’ ‘So be it.’ Lagertha smiled softly. Before you even could register it they took Hvitserk instead of you. ‘No!’ You protested. Astrid pushed you outside after Hvitserk. ‘Go home girl.’ She commanded you. ‘What are you gonna do with him?’ ‘Not of your concern is it?’ She smiled coldly, following Torvi and Hvitserk over the other path. You stood there, looking how he walked of and all you could think of was why the hell you shot that arrow. That cheerful girl inside of you died a little. ‘Nice job Y/n, really.’ Ivar hissed. You turned away and looked over to him, he was angry, just as everybody was. In that moment you realized at least two things, you cared for him and you needed to get him out.

#vikings imagine #hvitserk imagine #vikings #vikings x reader #hvitserk

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