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corneliaavenue-ao3 · 4 days

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Summer's a Knife (a graveyard fic)

Graveyard fics are fics that I started and will never return to. Some are vague outlines, some are 4 sentences, some are 40 pages. But if they haunt me, I want them to haunt you too.

I am actually sad that this became a graveyard fic. But I truly cannot write it anymore. I wanted to release this first chapter in May of 2022... you see how well that went for me.

This is the first summer after the war from Ginny's POV. It is sad, it is romantic, it deals with grief. It was going to have flashbacks to Ginny's sixth year. It was going to have 4 big chapters and a small epilogue, each chapter focusing on a month. It was going to be one of my favorite things I wrote. Unfortanetly, I don't feel that way anymore.

May (chapter title: so long daisy May) is the only complete (non-edited) chapter. I knew what I wanted to write in June (the best and worst day of June), no clue what July (I've been down since July) would bring, and an idea for August (August slipped away)

I even had a playlist made

Chapter 1 is below the cut because it is 10k words, and I am giving it all to you. After that I will explain the rest of the vibes of the fic with some snippets I wrote. Sorry this is a LONG POST.

You say that we'll just screw it up in these trying times. We're not trying.

If I bleed, you’ll be the last to know

So Long Daisy May

Ginny’s bloodstained trainers echoed on the cobblestone path to her Great Aunt’s house.

Once again, she was sent away for being too young. It wasn’t that long ago her parents were begging her to leave, to come back here for safety away from the final battle. Harry gave her a look that he didn’t want to see her either. She stayed of course. Fought in the war that was her fight as much as any other member of her family’s fight. Probably even more than most of them to be honest.

Now the war was over, she was sent away again. Her mum didn’t want Ginny to stay at Hogwarts any longer than necessary, wary of any lurking danger from Death Eaters still roaming the grounds. The Burrow was not safe yet. Her dad, Bill, and Charlie left soon after Voldemort fell to ensure that their home would be safe for them to come home. Molly Weasley could not bear to convince George to leave his twin’s side in the room of all the deceased. Ron was off somewhere once again, probably conjoined to Harry and Hermione’s sides, unbearable for them to separate.

That is how Ginny ends up with Percy of all brother’s returning to Great Aunt Muriel’s cold mansion that foggy, early morning.

Percy took a moment to knock on the front door. Ginny was planning to just walk inside, finding herself too tired to care about politeness and proper etiquette.

The front door swung open 30 seconds later, a small house elf stood in the entryway.

“Hey, Milsey. We were sent here to update Muriel and wait it out until the Burrow is safe,” Ginny said.

Milsey bowed down, “Of course, anything for Prewett blood.”

Ginny didn’t even try to hide her eye roll. She could practically hear Hermione in her ear ranting about House Elf Welfare.

“You don’t need to bow for us, Milsey,” Percy said. The first words he said aloud since their mum sent them here. Ginny did not know what to make of Percy anymore. He was the only brother who noticed anything was wrong with her during her first year at Hogwarts, and then he was the only one who checked up on her during her second year. Then he stopped caring about her. Ron told her that he got a letter from Percy telling him to stop being friends with Harry during his fifth year. She didn’t even get that. She could not understand how he could ignore his family for two years, and then come back begging for forgiveness.

Fred had forgiven him.

The thought of Fred made her entire insides clench. She wanted to vomit even though she had not had anything to eat in hours.

Percy walked through the front door, Ginny closely following.

“I am 109 years old, I just can’t have people showing up to my house unannounced at the crack of dawn. I have not even finished my tea yet this morning. Ginevra, your shoes are filthy. Take them off before you step on my Egyptian Rug, it is older than me and made from Sphynx fur,” Ginny’s aunt said in one breath.

Muriel stood in the doorway, wrapped in her silk nightgown, arms folded, looking very unpleased to see her niece and nephew. “And where is Molly? I need to speak with her about her inability to raise polite children who give warning when they are going to visit their aunt!”

Ginny felt Percy’s hand wrap around her bicep, warning her to not make a retort. “We will make sure we give you notice next time we visit, Auntie Muriel. Thank you for letting us pop in this morning,” Percy said, using his trademark pompous voice.

Muriel grunted, "I missed you Percy. You were always the most respectable Weasley. The Prewett blood runs strong in you."

Percy squeezed Ginny's arm again as a reminder to stay calm. Ginny turned and gave him a look that read something like I’m not a baby, get your annoying hands off of me. She wasn’t sure he quite got the message, but he removed his hand anyway.

“We are only here until dad gives us the all clear to go back home. I will clear out all of our things we left in your spare rooms. Your favorite Weasley can update you on what has happened in the last 24 hours.” Ginny turned, not even sparing a glance at Percy to see his reaction to the news that he would be the one updating the family about Fred’s death. She crossed over the sphinx rug and stormed up the stairs, making sure to leave dirty footprints with each step.

Her room was first. Her trunk sat in the middle of the floor, a few articles of clothing scattered across the floor, but mostly still packed. She didn’t want to admit it to her mum at the time, but she kept her trunk packed in case they needed to make another quick escape. Now, it seems so frivolous caring about her things when her family is now forever torn apart.

She quickly gathered her clothes strewn around and shoved them into her trunk. Levitating her trunk out the bedroom door and into the hallway.

The Ministry of Magic has more to worry about at the moment than some underage magic.

Her parent’s room was next. Unlike Ginny, they did not have their trunks already packed from school, so they did not bring much from the Burrow. Ginny noticed this on her third day at her aunt’s house when her mum had not changed robes. Looking around the room, Ginny gathered what little items were there and put them into her own trunk.

The twin’s room was last.

Ginny took a deep breath, bracing herself before pushing the door open slowly. Unsurprisingly, the room was a mess. Weasley Wizard Wheezes products piled in boxes on the floor and stacked on top of the bed. Mail in orders haphazardly organized in some system that only made sense to George. In the corner was Fred’s belongings frozen in time, never to be touched by him again.

Flashbacks to the Great Hall flooded her brain.

The smell of burning smoke clogged her nose. Seamus guided her back inside from the courtyard into the entryway of the Great Hall. Everything was too quiet. The emeralds littered on the floor cracked under her step, echoing against the stone walls. Suddenly Bill was there, pulling her from Seamus into his arms. He was crying. Why was he crying? He led her to the middle of the Great Hall where her family was huddled together. She counted the amount of heads, realizing two were missing. Slowly she approached her mum, who was kneeling on the ground in front of - NO.

Ginny stumbled, tripping over a box of sparklers on the ground. Her knees crashed into the footboard of the bed. A spare sparkler fizzled on the ground then ignited the entire box. An impressive explosion lit up the entire room, burning an imprint on the ceiling. Smoke filled her lungs. Spluttering, Ginny sunk to the ground, trying to catch her breath.

Breathe in. Breathe out. In and out. Quicker. Faster.

In.

Out.

In.

Out.

She felt herself start to hyperventilate. Her throat clogged up, unable to suck in deep enough breath to fill her lungs with oxygen. Tears blurred her vision. Pressure built in her head, she felt like she was submerged underwater. Unable to catch her breath. Drowning in her tears.

Arms wrapped around her, pulling her close. For a second, she thought she was with Bill back in the Great Hall again before realizing that was not the brother holding her.

“It’s alright, Ginny,” Percy soothed her.

Sobs wracked her body. She was exhausted. She could not keep them in any longer. Tucking her head into Percy’s chest, Ginny cried for her brother. She would never hear Fred tell another joke or have a late night race on the brooms. Her whole body ached. Several hours after his death, she finally felt the magnitude of the loss of Fred.

Percy scratched her back, lightly tracing his fingertips down her spine, soothing her. Just like he had the time she broke down during their trip to Egypt. Slowly, oxygen inflated her lungs and her sobs lessened. Her breath slowed back to a stable rate.

"Thanks, Perce," Ginny said when she finally trusted her own voice.

"Don't mention it," he shrugged. "How about you get some rest, I will clean up the rest of this room."

Ginny was too tired to protest. Pulling herself to stand, Ginny nodded at Percy before slowly making her way back to her guest bedroom. She didn't even bother changing into fresh clothes before crawling into bed. Curled into a ball, she pulled the covers tightly around her.

Her thoughts drifted to the same person she dreamt about for the entire year before the blackness wrapped around her, pulling her into a deep sleep.

Hours too soon she was gently shook awake. Groggy eyes opened to her father smiling down at her. He aged so much within the last year. What red was once in his hair has turned primarily gray, fresh wrinkles were etched into his face. Ginny flung her arms around his neck.

“It’s safe to go home now.”

“Where’s Percy?” Ginny asked, hating how childish her voice sounded.

Her dad stroked her hair, “Already home. Let’s join him.”

Her dad grabbed the trunk on the ground and Ginny’s hand, side-apparating her to the Burrow. Teaching the sixth years how to apparate was not a priority this past year. Just another flaw in her education from the last 9 months. Her landing was not soft. Stumbling a few steps, Ginny stood at the top of the hill, just inside the ward line.

“Everyone else is inside,” her dad said.

Stumbling over herself, Ginny ran down the hill to her home. At first glance, the Burrow looked the same as the day she left it. But as she got closer to the front door, she noticed more things amiss. The treeline looked different like a few branches were knocked away. The grass was scorched yellow like someone burned it. Windows were cracked or blasted open with missing shards of glass.

The front door groaned open with her push. Harry, Ron, and Hermione sat together, heads bent down, all snapped up at the sound of her entering the kitchen.

“Ginny!” Hermione smiled, standing to embrace her in a hug.

Ginny squeezed her friend back. She didn’t get to appreciate seeing the three of them at Hogwarts. Hermione was much thinner than the last time she saw her. They all were.

Ron embraced her next, giving her a pat on the back. She let go and looked over at the end of the table where Harry now stood.

“Hi,” Harry said.

He looked good. Thin like the other two, but still handsome. He had somehow gotten taller over the last year, his hair long, messier than she had ever seen it. The dark rings around his eyes and his hollow cheeks emphasized his green eyes. Staring at her the same way he had a year ago, like he was staring into a brilliant light.

Her heart skipped a beat.

But in the next heartbeat, they were crossing the room to one another. His arms wrapped tightly around her shoulders, hers around his waist. Pulling each other close. She pressed her ear against his chest.

He's alive, heart is beating, lungs are expanding with each breath.

Alive. Alive. Alive. Alive.

The stairs creaked, alerting them to the presence of another Weasley member. Ginny pulled back from Harry just slightly, not completely breaking contact, as George entered the room. Slowly, he crossed the room, giving Ginny a quick pat on the head before leaving out the back door. Reality sunk back in as she watched the back of George’s head.

Fred's dead.

Dead. Dead. Dead. Dead.

She felt her throat start to clog again. The unbearable feeling of loss started to overwhelm her. Slowly, she pulled away from Harry. She could not lose it again, especially not in front of the others who went through so much more than she had. Ron also lost Fred, and he wasn’t breaking down at the sight of George.

And George, who would see Fred’s face whenever he looked in the mirror, did not deserve Ginny breaking down by looking at him. It made her feel like an awful person for almost losing it. No one needed the stress of taking care of her while they too were struggling.

“He hasn’t said anything,” Ron said, filling the silence. Ginny realized her eyes had not left the back door George exited. “Charlie went back to Hogwarts to convince him to leave. He got back maybe 20 minutes before you did.”

Ginny wouldn’t know what to say either when everyone looked at you like they were seeing a ghost.

“Where’s everyone else?” Ginny asked.

Ron nodded to the back door. “Bill and Fleur are out back. They checked the house for curses, but haven’t finished the rest of the property.” He pointed to the stairs next. “Mum’s up in her room. I imagine now that dad is back, she will spend the rest of the day in the kitchen. She shares her love through food, you know. And I think she has a lot of love she will want to share.”

Ron’s prediction that Molly Weasley would cook a feast for dinner was not far off. A few hours later, everyone was crammed at the table, along with enough food to feed them for days. Harry sat next to her with a plate stacked full. Throughout their meal, they exchanged casual brushes and quick glances.

“What are Kingsley’s plans with the Ministry?” Harry asked her dad as he passed the salad bowl to her.

“There is a lot to figure out. The Ministry was corrupted, that is no secret.” Percy kept his head down, avoiding the gaze of his father. Arthur took a bite of his chicken before continuing, “It is fair to assume there will be trials, but those probably won’t occur until later this summer. First, the physical damages of the war need to be fixed before the government can fix itself. Kingsley is working with Gawain to assess the damage first.”

“Do we know how many people lost their lives?” Bill asked.

Arthur shook his head. “It is unclear. There are still those unaccounted for in addition to those in critical care at Saint Mungos. But right now the number is at 43, not including Death Eaters.”

The clattering of silverware halted. Silence overcame the table as the magnitude of the battle overcame them.

“Excuse me,” Harry stood, tossing his fork on his half finished plate of food. He crossed the kitchen and made his way up the stairs, not bothering to look back at any of them.

Ron silently stood too, following Harry up. Hermione paused, eyes following Ron, but she stayed in her seat. “He will be fine,” Hermione reassured the table, not making eye contact with any direct member of the Weasley family as she spoke.

The table remained awkwardly quiet for the rest of the meal. Fleur spoke of Shell Cottage to fill the silence. Ginny excused herself to her room as soon as she felt appropriate to leave.

“I will be right back,” Hermione said as she passed Ginny’s bedroom door later that evening, two plates of food balanced on her arm.

Ginny nodded and continued to get ready for bed. By the time Hermione returned, Ginny had already tucked herself into bed, facing the wall. Hermione silently dressed for bed. “Goodnight, Ginny.”

Her circadian clock was off. Even though her entire body felt exhausted, Ginny lay awake staring up at the cracked ceiling of her own bedroom for hours. Sleeping at Muriel’s threw her off. In other circumstances, she would have taken this opportunity for a night flight. But she didn't feel safe flying alone tonight. Her mum would also be worried sick if she found out Ginny went out alone unsupervised in the middle of the night. Ginny did not need to be an added reason for her mother's stress right now.

So instead she shifted in her bed, trying to drift off to sleep. Counting Hermione's rhythmic breaths as she slept on the cot next to her bed.

One.

Two.

In.

Out.

Ginny tried to prevent her thoughts from drifting to anything depressing. No Fred, no Hogwarts, not even her childhood home. So instead she tried to make her mind go blank, to think of absolutely nothing besides the sound of Hermione’s breath.

Her counts of Hermione’s breaths quickened. “No, please no!”

“Hermione?” Ginny leaned over the edge to peer down at her friend. Her face was twisted in distress. The faded quilt was thrown off her body as she tossed and turned in her sleep. “It’s fake! Please stop!” a blood curdling, terrible scream escaped Hermione’s lips.

Hermione bolted straight up, eyes widened in fear, her hand reached for her right forearm. Ginny crawled out of her bed, squeezing next to Hermione on the cot. Tentatively, she reached out, stroking her back.

Hermione flinched away from her touch before finally relaxing. She tugged the sleeves of her jumper down her arms and pulled her knees into her chest. Ginny continued to try to provide comfort to her friend.

After a few minutes of silence, Hermione finally looked at her. “Sorry.”

Wrapping Hermione into an embrace, Ginny whispered, “You have no need to apologize. I wasn’t even asleep.”

Hermione hummed. “Bellatrix, well…” she trailed off, staring out the bedroom window. The quarter moon provided minimal light in Ginny’s bedroom, so Ginny could hardly make out the look on Hermione’s face. “Nevermind,” Hermione finished, pushing herself away from Ginny, standing. “I’m going to go sleep upstairs, so you can get some rest. Goodnight Ginny.”

She grabbed her wand and bolted out the door, leaving Ginny all alone.

Ginny sighed and crawled back into her own bed. She punched her lumpy pillow, trying to find a comfortable enough position to drift off to sleep. With Hermione gone, she lost her distraction from letting her mind run wild. Now, thoughts of Bellatrix infiltrated her head.

Chaos reigned. Flashes of lights of every color surrounded her. She fired off spells at any person still cowardly enough to hide their face behind a mask. Harry was dead, but Tom had not won. She would make sure of it. Ginny caught sight of her wild mane of black hair before she saw her face. Firing off a cascade of curses, each aimed for Tom’s right-hand woman, each somehow deflected with ease. Bellatrix gave her a wicked smile, and for a moment Ginny wondered if Bellatrix knew exactly who she was and why she was so distraught. Hermione and Luna joined her side to fight Bellatrix. A streak of green passed her head, and for a moment, Ginny thought she would finally be at peace.

All good judgment she made hours prior about not flying tonight was out the window. She needed out.

Shoving her feet in her trainers and grabbing a jumper to combat the cool May evening air, Ginny quickly slipped out of her bedroom. Taking the stairs two at a time, pushing open the backdoor, and sprinting the moment she stepped out into the night.

With no one to tend to it in over a month and Death Eaters to trample it to the ground, the orchard was a disaster. Apples littered the ground, the sweet fruit squashed underfoot. The burnt grass damp with dew.

The broom closet smelled musty. Thankfully, it appeared untouched. Ginny grabbed an old Cleansweep, swinging one leg over the handle in a fluid motion. Her feet firmly placed on the ground, inhaling the cold air, she pushed off into the dark sky.

The common phrase “It’s like riding a broom,” never fit so eloquently. Months away from the sky, and it is almost like she had never left. She pressed her chest closer to the handle to center her gravity, and she was soaring. Past the treeline and the top of her home, she flew lazy laps. Circling the property, spiraling in the open air.

Her lungs expanded with cold air, her heart kicked faster with adrenaline, and her mind forgot old haunts. She felt invincible. She felt alive.

Slowly, she looped closer to the ground.

She noticed his dark hair first.

Once she flew within earshot, Harry started to speak. “Imagine my surprise to be awoken in the middle of the night to the sound of your brother snogging.”

For the first time in days, Ginny smiled "I hope it wasn't with the picture of Aunt Muriel he keeps stashed under his pillow.”

A laugh escaped Harry’s lips. It was one of the most joyous sounds Ginny ever heard. "I think he finally has reason to dispose of that picture."

“Oh?” Ginny questioned, the tips of her toes grazing the grass as she hovered closer to him.

The corner of Harry’s mouth quirked up, “Your brother is snogging Hermione Granger.”

“When did that happen? Oh, you haven’t been stuck third wheeling them this entire time have you?” Ginny asked, sympathetically patting Harry’s arm.

Harry looked down at where Ginny was touching him, slowly moving his other hand up to give her fingers a gentle squeeze. Ginny sucked in a breath.

He shook his head, letting go of her hand, “They didn’t snog until yesterday.”

“But yesterday was the ba-”

“Exactly,” Harry said, interrupting her. “How long have you been out here?”

"I couldn’t sleep, and Hermione had a nightmare,” she said, shaking her head. “It was Bellatrix. That's all that I know."

A dark look crossed Harry’s features. "I can only imagine."

Ginny did not push further. It wasn't Harry’s secret to tell, nor was it her's to know.

Instead, she slid off the Cleansweep and took a seat next to him. Enough space to not touch, but enough to feel the electricity between them. The hairs on her arm stood straight up. All day, tension wrung between them. Each touch sparked every nerve in her body. For months, she dreamt about what she would do when she saw him again, and now she was too overwhelmed to act.

They sat in the silence, staring up at the stars. As each second ticked by, she became more and more unsure how to express how much she missed him. Harry shifted beside her, and Ginny braved a glance to peek over at him only to find his bright, green eyes focused on her.

He hesitated for only a moment before his signature look of determination swept across his features. A look found right before doing something brave and stupid.

And then he kissed her.

If Ginny thought it was easy to return to flying after time away, nothing compared to kissing Harry. The feel of his mouth slanted against hers felt like coming home. Nothing was more natural. An instinct. Just like the instinct of Harry’s hands to wind in her hair and hers to press against his chest.

No words were said aloud, but so much was shared within one kiss. They were always good at having silent conversations. A single look. A single touch. So many emotions and thoughts expressed between them in those moments.

His hands in her hair. I missed you.

Her hands wrapped around his waist. Please don’t go again.

Their lips pressed together. I need you.

Eventually they broke apart after what could have been several days. Ginny always lost track of time when Harry kissed her. Pulling away, Ginny let out an uncharacteristic giggle, relishing in the warmth of an alive Harry.

She shifted her weight, leaning against his side. Her head rest on his shoulder. His arms snaked around her waist. Slot against one another like no time had passed since those days spent by the lake.

That is where they stayed until daylight broke over the horizon.

Days were quiet. Planning funerals drained livelihood out of the Burrow. Ginny found herself helping where she could. Her mum was constantly cooking in the kitchen, so Ginny would help clean. She didn’t speak, she kept her thoughts to herself. When Harry was in the room, they moved like they were dancing. Never touching.

Nights were loud. Hermione would leave her room after everyone officially went to bed to join Ron in his. That was when Ginny would sneak out to fly. Harry would join her minutes later, some joke on his lips about Ron and Hermione and how he wished maybe they went back to fighting. Then they would fly together or sit and talk. Eventually, they would fall asleep under the stars pressed into each other's arms, waking just at the crack of dawn to sneak back into their respective bedrooms.

One bright morning, Ginny followed the scent of fresh breads and sweet sugar down to the kitchen. Her mum hunched over the oven, a faded floral apron tied loosely around her waist. Ginny would not be surprised if she barely missed her mum waking up to slave away in the kitchen right as her and Harry were sneaking back into their beds.

“Morning, mum,” Ginny said, giving her mum a squeeze around the waist.

“Good morning, dear,” her mum replied, leaning into her hug. “I would like you and Charlie to run some errands for me today.”

“Sure,” Ginny said, stealing a pastry from the counter. “What do you need?” She asked, mouth full of scone.

Her mum turned back to the oven to pull out a fresh pie. “I would love it if you could run some of these breads to some families for me. The Browns, the Deacons, and the Rivers. I believe Deacon’s daughter was in your year. Sophie was it?”

The scone in her mouth went stale. Bile rose, burning her throat on the way up. Ginny grabbed a napkin off the counter and spit out the mushed up pastry. “Yeah, Sophie,” Ginny’s voice wavered. She cleared the acid from her throat, pushing the sound of late night giggles about Hogwarts gossip out from her head. “I can do that for you. Where’s Charlie?”

After wrangling her second eldest brother from the yard, the pair apparated, Ginny tightly wrapping her hand around Charlie's arm, to the home of Ron’s ex girlfriend.

Ever the introvert, Charlie left her to do all the talking and condolences.

After giving her final sorrows to the Brown Family, Charlie grabbed her arm and apparated them to the small Wizarding village the Deacon’s lived.

Ginny stumbles forward as her feet crashed into the stepping stones of her dead dormmates home. Steadying herself, Ginny wondered if she would ever get used to apparition. Flying makes sense. Apparating does not.

Grabbing her brother’s arm, she turned him to face her, “Listen, let me do this house alone, yeah?”

Charlie gave her a look, questioning her judgment. “You know you aren’t of age and mum would slit my throat.”

“Please. She was my friend.”

Something in her eyes must have given enough reasoning to Charlie to let her go alone. “I will wait over at the shop across the street. Meet me there when you’re done.”

Ginny pulled him into a hug, wrapping her arms around his thick waist. Charlie was the closest of her siblings to her own height, so she could rest her chin on his shoulder during the embrace. “I won’t be too long.”

She turned away from her brother, the pie her mother gave her rest carefully on her arm. Steadying herself with a shaky breath, she knocked.

A moment passed. And then another. Ginny held her breath as she waited. Maybe she would not have to face them. Maybe she could set the pie down on the step and turn her back and run away from the grief inside the home. But before Ginny could follow her intrusive thoughts, the door opened to a beautiful woman with short auburn hair and laugh lines carved into her face even though she looked as though she had not had a reason to laugh in a long time.

“Hello, my name is Ginn-”

“Ginny come in,” Sophie’s mum invited her in, opening the door wider for Ginny to slip inside.

She shouldn’t be surprised that Mrs. Deacon knew who she was, a classmate of her daughters, a Weasley, a blood traitor whose family housed The Boy Who Lived for years. Ginny did not want to know what the exact reason was that Mrs. Deacon recognized her.

“My mum made this for you,” Ginny said, offering the baked pie that would never fill the Sophie-sized hole in her heart.

“Thank you, that is very sweet of her and sweet of you to drop it off.”

Sophie’s mum took the pie and set it on the kitchen counter filled with other condolence foods. Ginny felt nauseous at the sight.

Ginny sat on the gray loveseat and turned away from the sight and took in the room around her. Light cascaded in and reflected off of the framed photos on the cream wall to brighten the room. Photos of Sophie and her little brother, Samuel, were everywhere. Together with a woman, who must have been their grandmother, standing in Diagon Alley. Sophie singing in the frog choir with her hair tucked back in her signature butterfly clips. Sam tugging on a much younger Sophie’s hair and running away. All moments forever to cycle on repeat, but to never be updated again.

The bile that she swallowed that morning began to rise again.

“Would you like something to drink, dear?” Mrs. Deacon asked, pulling Ginny out of her reverie.

“No, thank you,” Ginny replied, even though she could probably use a glass of water or a shot of firewhiskey.

A grunt from the door leading to the hallway alerted Ginny of Mr. Deacon’s presence. He was a tall man, not as tall as her own father, but much wider. He worked for the Ministry’s Portkey Office. Sophie often boasted about all the places her father traveled for work, and Ginny could see it. A man like him did not belong behind a desk.

“Elric, this is Ginny. She is,” Mrs. Deacon paused, “She was one of Sophie’s classmates.”

Ginny stood to her feet, “Mr. Deacon, I am so sorry for your loss.”

Mr. Deacon waved his hand, his other rubbing his sternum like he too struggled with gastric reflux at the reminder of Sophie.

“I too am sorry for yours. I heard you lost a brother.”

The grief of losing Fred washed over her again like a wave that quickly retreated into a cool, cold nothing. “Yes, I did. Thank you.” Ginny sat back down on the couch. The Deacons sat across from her, gripping each other’s hands.

Silence swept over the room like a cloak. Thick, warm, and suffocating.

Ginny broke the silence first.

“Sophie was-,” Ginny paused, clearing her throat, “she was a beautiful soul. Her voice lit up the dorm room. She would sing under her breath and she studied and then belt songs in the shower. She was wicked at potions and brilliant at Gobstones. She was one of my best friends, and I am so sorry for your loss.”

The all too familiar prickling sensation behind her eyes grew. Rapidly blinking, trying to keep the tears at bay, because she had so much more to say. So she pressed on. “I was there,” Ginny said, looking up to meet Mrs. Deacon’s eye.

The scent of smoke encroached her olfactory system. The feel of Sophie’s manicured hand in her own haunted her skin.

Ginny ignored the memories and pressed on. “When You-Know-Who asked for a pause, I went out to the ground to help.” The words recover bodies left unsaid. “I saw her lying there. She was alive, and she was asking for you. She loved you so much.” The tears building in her eyes escaped, rolling steadily down her cheeks.

"They told us her body was recovered during The Silent Hour, but never by who," Mr. Deacon said, tears brimming his eyes. “Thank you, Ginny.”

The guilt bubbling in her gut was interrupted by footsteps bounding down the steps. Little, 12-year old, Samuel Deacon slid into the room.

“Ginny!” Samuel shouted, eyes filled with joy as though he were seeing a hero. And to him he probably was. She had not seen him in months. Thankfully, Samuel was long gone from Hogwarts during the battle, but the last time she saw him was forever ingrained in her brain. The memory seeped through her pores.

“Pain does not last forever,” Amycus Carrow said to a room full of scared students. “But the memory of it does.” He sauntered across the front of the entrance hall, each step deliberate to draw out the dramatics of what he was saying. Ginny guessed he got this schtick from Tom. “Which is why it makes such an excellent punishment. You remember the pain, so maybe next time you won’t misbehave.” He turned to face her, smiling like a Grindylow ready to to entangle their prey within their long fingers.

“Now can someone please tell me which illiterate idiot graffitied the walls?” Amycus’s voice echoes through the hall. Dozens of eyes stayed focused on the floor. “Was it you?” A finger pointing at a short Hufflepuff boy standing over in the corner. His eyes widened at being called out for a crime he never committed.

“No,” the boy stuttered.

“I don’t believe you,” Amycus sneered, clenching the collar of his cloak, dragging him out into the open. “What’s your name, boy?”

“Sa-Samuel,” the young boy managed to stutter out.

“Well, Sa-Samuel, I hope you remember to never misbehave again.” With those words, Amycus lifted his wand.

Quickly shoving her hand into her bag, fumbling around searching for the jar of paint stashed at the bottom. Her fingers found the cool glass and she yanked it out and threw it at Amycus’s feet.

He turned to meet her, and grinned. The Grindylow caught his prey. “I see I found the illiterate idiot.” He turned his wand to her face, “Crucio.”

“Sam, it is good to see you,” Ginny asked, voice overly pleasant.

To Ginny’s horror, Mrs. Deacon said, “Samuel has told me a lot about you.” She smiled too warmly at her. Like she wasn’t the reason Sam was not almost cursed in the first place. Like she wasn’t the last one to see her daughter alive. Like she deserved forgiveness.

Ginny’s stomach turned and threatened to spill out on their carpet. She needed to leave.

“Thank you so much for your hospitality. I do need to get going.”

Both of the Deacon’s stood immediately.

“Of course,” Mrs. Deacon said.

“Let me walk you out,” Mr. Deacon said.

So Ginny let herself be ushered out. She kept her mouth clamped shut. Afraid to vomit out words along with her guts.

As she reached the door, Mr. Deacon stopped her, “Sophie’s funeral is set on the thirteenth. We would love it if you could make it.”

Ginny couldn’t trust her words, so she nodded in agreement, and burst out the front door. As soon as the door closed, she broke out into a sprint, down to the corner shop where Charlie should be waiting for her.

He was leaning against the side wall, lazily smoking a cigarette.

"Take me home." Ginny said, walking past Charlie.

"But we have one more-"

"Take me home."

Charlie paused before grabbing her arm and spinning on his heel. They arrived in front of the Burrow a second later. Ginny sprinted to the broom shed. Grabbing the closest broom, not even checking whose it belongs to, Ginny kicked off of the ground.

She lapped the Burrow several times, streaking by as fast as the broom allowed her. Up in the air, she could blame her tears on the wind in her eyes instead of the guilt she felt in her heart.

That night, she did not fly.

Hermione snuck out of the room, but Ginny stayed in her bed. Waiting. A soft knock on the door alerted her of his presence. Her bed shifted from his added weight.

They avoided each other that day. Well really, Ginny avoided him and everyone else. Hiding in the sky, and when she was called inside by her mum, she hid in the kitchen. Charlie did not say anything to her, which was a blessing. Her mum did comment on the extra pie brought up, but a quick lie that the Rivers were not home avoided anymore questions.

Harry’s arms snuck around her waist, pulling her against his chest. She tucked herself under his chin as he pressed his nose into her hair. Her hair was still damp from the shower she took earlier that evening, but she knew Harry would not care. In fact, he probably preferred it. The scent of her shampoo freshly washed into her hair. It calmed him.

She wondered if he was struggling with what was going to happen tomorrow as much as she knew she would.

But she did not ask.

Slowly, his breaths evened as he fell asleep behind her. And Ginny fell shortly after.

All mornings have been quiet since the battle at the Burrow. But none compared to this one. Outside, the morning fog was thick and suffocating. Inside, so was the silence.

Weasley family members dressed in black to bury their loudest family member.

When it was time, her father led the family to the grave. Walking in a line to the apparition line on the edge of the Burrow property, and one-by-one apparating to Fred’s final destination. Ginny stood and watched as her loved ones disappeared with a pop. Her dad stood by her side and lifted his arm.

“Ready?”

No.

“Yes,” she said, gripping his arm.

The graveyard was busier than she expected. Her family is large, but so was Fred’s impact.

Old classmates of his, old teammates, old co-workers lined the chairs in the back. Professor McGonagall could be seen from her tall witch’s hat. Hagrid stood off to the side, already loudly sobbing. Ginny felt her tears join his.

She made her way to the front and sat in her seat nestled between Ron and George. The same small wizard that preached at Dumbledore’s funeral and Bill’s wedding stood in the front. A twisted thought crossed her mind about how busy that man is during this week.

And he talked in platitudes. He talked about his sacrifice, how he was a light in the family. But never really about Fred. Ginny wished she had taken the time to write something, then maybe Fred would have gotten the send off he deserved.

George gripped her hand near the end of the small wizard’s speech. “Are you ready to see some magic?”

Ginny grinned, a warmth spreading across her chest. “Always.”

George grinned back at her, reaching into his pocket, pulling out his wand. With a small flick of his wrist. A bang behind the gravestones went off.

Gasps wrang out from behind her. Aunt Muriel gave out a shriek of terror, as fireworks lit up the foggy sky.

Sparks flew above her, spelling out the initials F.W. And for the first time all week, Ginny was crying, but she was not upset by it.

After the funeral, the mood was much brighter, the fog outside lifted with the smoke of the fireworks, and Ginny could feel like she could breathe again.

Slowly, the crowd began to thin. Angelina grabbed George’s arm and loudly declared that they were going to the Leaky to celebrate Fred’s life and a group followed her. Bill, Charlie, and Fleur followed shortly after them. After a moment of contemplation, Percy followed suit.

Her mother gave her a kiss on the cheek before heading further into the graveyard to where her brothers lay. Her father followed a few steps behind her.

Ron and Hermione were still sitting in their seats. Their chairs were now pushed impossibly close together as Hermione almost sat on Ron’s lap with her head tucked against his chest, and Ron’s face pressed into her hair. Masking the tears that he was shedding.

Ginny steadily made her way up to Fred’s grave. Ash sprinkled the grass from the firework show. She lowered herself to the ground, sitting to the right of the gravestone.

“Hey, Forge,” Ginny murmured, closing her eyes and resting her head on the stone. “Miss you.”

Ginny slowly descended down the stairs, unsure exactly which one would creak under her step. She wasn’t sure who would be worse to alert of her late night excursion: her mother or her great aunt.

All she wanted to do was see them and not just take Bill’s word for it that they were safe. Luna. Dean. Hermione. Ron. And of course Harry. Mum nearly locked her in her bedroom when Ginny asked to go to Shell Cottage.

So now she was sneaking to the fireplace in the middle of the night to floo her way over to Shell Cottage. A task significantly less dangerous than any of the times she snuck out in the middle of the night this last year.

The third from the bottom step let out a loud groan.

“Shit.”

“Going somewhere?” A voice from the top of the stairs called down to her. Thankfully, it was the person who would most likely go with her on this adventure.

“I thought getting some nice fresh, saltwater air would be nice at this time of night. Want to come along?” Ginny asked, nodding her head to the living room.

Fred quickly descended the stairs, uncaring if he woke the entire house along the way.

"Is that the plan then? Run off to Shell Cottage without letting anyone know where you're going?"

"You know."

"I know because I caught you sneaking out," Fred retorted. "And when mum and dad wake in the morning and find your bed empty? What will you do after they chain you to your bed?"

Ginny rolled her eyes, "They won't tie me to the bed."

"No, probably not, but you won't be let out of their sight. And when the time comes when it is important for you to sneak out, you won't be able to."

"What do you mean?" Ginny asked, hating that she didn't understand.

"I'm saying, wait. Wait until something big. I will go with you then. Not when you're sneaking out to see your boyfriend."

"Ex-boyfriend."

"I didn't realize you were sneaking off to see Thomas. Don't let me stop you then," Fred teased.

"Oh, shove off," Ginny said, pushing his shoulder.

Heavy footsteps pulled her from her thoughts. Harry stood above her, head of messy hair blocking the sun. He held his hand out, an offer to help her up.

She took it, pulling herself up and into his arms in one fluid motion. He enveloped her in a hug, holding her tight against his chest. Ginny breathed in the scent of him. Woodsy and cool, like the morning air in the autumn.

Reluctantly, she detangled herself from him, keeping her hand intertwined in his. There they stood, hand in hand, staring down at Fred Weasley’s grave.

Fred Weasley

1/4/1978 - 2/5/1998

Mischief

Harry gave her fingers a squeeze before letting go. He bent down in front of Fred’s grave. He paused for a second, before pulling out his wand, waving it carefully. A bouquet of daisies appeared in the dirt. Fresh and white. Harry stood, reaching back for her hand, but refusing to look at her.

“Hermione and I went to my parent’s graves on Christmas. She did this,” Harry said, waving his hands at the flowers on the ground, “I thought Fred deserved some too.” He bent down and picked one from the ground, “Daisies mean new beginnings.”

He shifted his weight, "or at least that's what Hermione told me when she showed me how to do the spell."

Ginny’s gut twisted into a knot. "They're beautiful," was all she could muster out. She wasn't sure she wanted a new beginning. She wanted to start all over.

"For you," Harry said, handing her a single flower.

Ginny smiled and accepted the pity flower. Harry didn't believe in the pity flowers either, but it was thoughtful, so Ginny tucked it into her pocket.

When she got home later that night, she tossed it into her windowsill. With hope that maybe the rest of the summer improved from the beginning.

The next several days were spent in mourning. Traveling from funeral to funeral.

Colin’s funeral was hard because she spent 30 minutes before leaving being coached by Hermione on the intricacies of a muggle funeral. Obviously, no fireworks like Fred’s nor an ablaze casket like at Dumbledore’s. But instead a metal contraption that would slowly lower his wooden casket into the ground.

She sat near front on the side with Neville and Seamus on either side of her. Harry with Ron and Hermione in the back, trying to keep attention off of them as much as possible.

Ginny grieved for her friend. Her Herbology partner. The person who never tired answering her questions about the Muggle World. The same sinking feeling that ebbed and flowed in her since the battle came back. She was the reason why he lost half of his first year lying petrified in the hospital wing. Tom was the reason he lost the rest of his life.

Tonks and Remus’s funerals were next. Members of the Order carried both caskets. Kingsley had tears streaming down his face with Tonks’ casket on his shoulders. Her dad looked more tired than usual under the weight of Remus’s casket.

Only one other gravestone stood in the ground on the plot of land. Tonks’ final resting place lay next to the empty grave of her father whose body was never recovered.

In the last row sat Andromeda cradling a young Teddy Lupin. Remus showed her a picture of young Teddy when he visited the Weasley’s at Muriel’s place. Then, his hair was a bright orange. Now, it lacked any sign of vibrance, instead he wore Remus’s signature sandy hair.

Next to Andromeda sat Narcissa, poised, dressed head to toe in expensive black robes. Looking every bit out of place Ginny is sure she felt.

Harry did a double-take after he noticed her next to his godson. Ginny reached forward and laced her fingers with his, offering a squeeze of comfort. On the other side of Harry, Ron pulled Hermione closer to his body.

Instead of the small wizard, Kingsley stood in front of the graves and gave a speech about hope and love and loss. A personal story about Tonks catching a death eater by tripping on top of him was interrupted by wails coming from the back row.

Little Teddy’s uncontrollable sobs echoed in the cemetery. Andromeda tried shushing him to no avail. Narcissa stood, offering a hand, a moment passed before Andromeda passed over her grandson to her sister. Narcissa carried Teddy further away from the funeral and whispers of the guests.

“She has no right,” hissed Ron.

“It’s fine,” Harry replied, his leg bouncing, looking everything but fine.

Kingsley continued on with Teddy’s sobs quieted by distance. Ron kept anxiously looking over his shoulder back at Narcissa while Hermione stared straight forward. Harry leaned forward in his seat, releasing his grip on her hand.

Ginny, for her part, kept listening to Kingsley and silently wondered if she would ever fully understand what happened with those three last year.

The funeral ended with Kingsley and Gawain Robards casting golden sparks at the pair of caskets before they slowly descended into the ground.

Gradually, the crowd began to thin out. Narcissa carefully returned to her sister’s side off in the back, swaying back and forth, cradling a sleepy Teddy in her arms.

Harry stood and started to make his way back towards where his Godson was.

“Mr. Potter. May I have a word?” Gawain Robards asked.

Harry froze momentarily, and Ginny wondered if he was going to tell the Head Auror to fuck right off before he calmly nodded. Robards stuck out his hand, leading Harry away from the crowds, in the opposite direction of Narcissa Malfoy.

Ginny stood frozen next to Ron and Hermione, both just as conflicted as she felt on whether they should eavesdrop on Robards and Harry’s conversation or confront Mrs. Malfoy.

Her mum approached the Black sisters. Ginny snuck over to the back, Ron and Hermione following her closely, ready to witness whatever drama could unfold between Molly Weasley and Narcissa Malfoy. But instead of sharp words or curses shot from wands, her mum swept both Andy and Narcissa into a warm embrace

“I am so sorry about your sister,” Mum said, pulling away from the Black sisters.

Narcissa placed a hand on her mum’s arm, “We do anything to protect our children.” She gave Andromeda a curt nod and took a slender finger to brush Teddy’s cheek. “I won’t intrude any longer than I meant to. It was good to see you, Andy.”

With a pop, Narcissa disappeared.

Harry stormed by a few seconds later, Robards still standing where Harry left him, hand rubbing the bridge of his nose.

“Harry?” Hermione’s voice questioned.

“Later,” Harry shortly replied before apparating off, not even sparing Ginny a second glance.

Hermione sighed, turning to Ron. “Ready?” Ron gripped her hand and then both disappeared with another pop.

“Wanker,” Ginny muttered under her breath, “You were supposed to apparate me home.”

Kicking a rock on the ground, Ginny begrudgingly walked back to where her mother was now rocking Teddy.

On the thirteenth, Ginny dressed once again in black. Hermione and her traded their black robes so they were not wearing the exact same outfit to every funeral they attended. By the fourth day of funerals, Fleur was offering her wardrobe to them as well, altering her clothes to fit their bodies.

Harry, Ron, and Hermione attended every funeral, each of them feeling like they owed it to the witch or wizard who lost their life. Just yesterday, they attended the funeral of a Slytherin fifth year girl that none of them had even met. Ginny joined them most days. Harry side-along apparating her to the graveyard. Occasionally, other members of the D.A. would be in attendance and Ginny would stand next to them.

Harry planned on arriving right before the funeral started, but Ginny wanted to be there as early as possible. Hermione’s heels clicked as she walked down the Burrow steps into the kitchen. “Ready, Ginny?”

Together they apparated to a large wizarding cemetery. A place where thousands of purebloods were buried before. A place that currently had an unusually high amount of fresh mounds of dirt and 6 foot holes due to the significant amount of deaths during the war.

Ginny found her dormmates immediately. Jessica embracing Elise with Athena rubbing circles on her back. They all looked up as Ginny and Hermione approached the trio.

Jessica let go of Elise to engulf Ginny into a hug. "I am so sorry about Fred, Ginny."

"Thank you, Jess."

Jessica paused before wrapping Hermione in a hug as well.

Athena pulled something out of her pocket and placed it in Ginny’s hand.

"Here."

Opening her palm, Ginny felt that familiar tug of her gut. In her hand was a green butterfly clip, similar to the ones Sophie often donned in her hair. Looking up, she saw her roommates all had one clipped in their hair as well.

"Thank you," Ginny choked out, clipping her loose strands back.

"Do you want to sit with us?" Athena asked Hermione.

Hermione shook her head, "Thank you for the invite, but Ron and Harry should be arriving soon. I will sit with them in the back. You four should sit together."

Hermione gave Ginny’s shoulder a squeeze before walking to the back row of chairs.

The funeral started not too long later. Ginny pressed between Athena and Elise near the front. The four dormmates held hands the entire time, offering gentle squeezes of support to one another as they buried their friend. Little Samuel Deacon sobbed throughout the entire procession, and Ginny wished nothing more than him to have his sister back.

Ginny stayed back after the funeral to watch Harry approach the Deacon family. It was something he did after every burial, apologize to the family. Ginny wished Harry understood that Sophie’s death was not his fault.

Samuel turned away from his parents and gave her a small wave. Ginny lifted her hand, but turned away. The nausea associated with Sophie was churning in her stomach once again.

That night, with her back pressed against Harry’s chest and one of his arms draped across her churning stomach, she lay frozen still.

"You okay?" Harry murmured in her ear.

She wasn't, but she couldn't admit that secret out loud. Especially to the person who carried so much more guilt than she could even begin to imagine. So she lied.

"I'm fine."

Harry had no reason to believe her lie, since it was his favorite lie to tell too. But he pretended for her, pulling her closer to his chest, pressing his lips to the back of her skull.

Not shortly after, his breaths evened out as he was lulled to sleep. Ginny’s brain was ignited on fire, keeping her awake.

“I know, it’s going to be alright,” Ginny lied. Sophie continued to whimper in pain. Ginny could only bear to look at her face, scared of what the rest of her crushed body may look like.

“I want to go home,” Sophie cried out, tears leaking down her face. Ginny felt tears well up in her eyes too.

A sound from behind her drew her away from her dying friend. Ginny couldn’t see anyone, but something in her wanted to get up and follow.

Sophie’s weak cough drew her back in. Blood tinged on her lips, her face losing color as each second passed. “Will you stay with me until I go?” Sophie asked, her voice childlike. She is just a child, Ginny realized. At 17 years old, there was so much Sophie never experienced. So many people Sophie was leaving behind. Ginny’s gut flipped realizing this is why her own mother wanted her to stay hidden.

“Of course,” Ginny choked out.

Sophie’s fingers managed to find Ginny’s. “It’s okay, Gin. You were one of my best of friends.”

Ginny snapped herself out of the memory. Harry still wrapped tightly around her, his heat radiating off his body suffocating her. She wrestled herself out from underneath him, desperately trying to not wake him. She needed fresh air.

Barefoot in the grass, Ginny padded to the paddock and grabbed her broom. She took flight and hoped the night air could cool the fire she felt in her brain.

As the sun began to crack streaks of light in the sky, Ginny crept back into her bedroom. Harry softly snored in her sheets. Ginny smiled as she slid back into his arms. She had been awake for nearly 24 hours, her brain was finally exhausted enough to finally fall asleep.

With no more funerals to attend, the rest of May trickled by. Everyone was stagnant with grief, finding it difficult to progress on. Charlie was growing restless, staying now at Shell Cottage with Bill and Fleur, but not feeling like he could abandon the family back in Romania just yet. Every time he mentioned the country, her mum would burst into tears.

Percy was just there. All the time. He and her dad would attend work, but then he would always come back to the Burrow instead of his own apartment.

Ginny sat with George most days. They had a quiet understanding that talking was the last thing either one of them wanted to do. A few days a week, they would go to Weasleys' Wizards Wheezes and organize the mess. Some days, Lee Jordan and Angelina Johnson would stop by and help up, filling in the silence with endless chatter. Other days, the pair would sit on the front counter, passing back and forth a bottle of butterbeer with the radio blasting Wizard Rock in the background.

Ron and Hermione were wrapped around each other at all times of the day. One couldn't even use the toilet without the other hovering nearby on the stairwell.

She had not seen Harry in days due to conflicting schedules. He would fall asleep in her bed after a long day of performing bullshit politics with Kingsley, and Ginny would join him after her nightly flight. When she finally rose in the late morning, his side of her bed would be cold.

Moments alone were rare, and those moments were spent exploring each other's bodies instead of exploring each other's thoughts. They were two vastly different novels only sharing a page with one another and then snapping the book shut before either one could read any further. So Ginny came to her own conclusions.

The burn marks on his thighs were fresh as though his escape dragon from Gringotts scorched him. The ribs she traced with finger in the dark told her that food was scarce. The lightning shaped scar on his chest told a horror story she didn't want to touch with a ten foot pole. The erythematous circle branded into his chest was the most confusing part of his story.

Ginny hated to think what conclusions Harry was drawing from her body.

On a cool evening in late May, Ginny decided to actually retire to bed at a reasonable time. The sky had opened into a massive thunderstorm which was not relenting any time soon. Harry and her had played a round of Exploding Snap earlier in the day to pass the time.

"Are you falling asleep with me tonight?" Harry asked, bare legs crossed on her bed, his hand propped behind his head. He looked so casual, like her bed was his own.

"Only if you promise not to snore tonight," Ginny teased.

A pillow flew at her face. Ginny snapped it from the air and threw it right back into Harry’s face. With glasses askew and a smile tugging at his lips, Harry reached out a hand to her.

She eagerly took it, being led to her own bed.

Ginny melted into Harry’s side, his hands immediately resting on her hips pulling her close. She tilted her chin to slot her lips against his.

This part was easy. Harry’s body was a map she had traced and memorized a year ago, and, during the quiet dark nights in her dorm room, she recited to herself.

His lips were soft and chapped. Teeth grazing her own lips, threatening to roughen her up with a bite or two. His chest pressed against her own. His hands, one always wrapped around a strand of her hair, tugging her whenever she pressed up against him just right. His strong thighs, one always slotted in between her legs.

That was the mantra she replayed in her head over and over while her fingers wandered down her skin last year.

But now, in the dark of her warm bedroom, it was Harry’s fingers trailing down her body.

“You’re perfect,” Harry murmured into her collarbone as she moaned his name.

Ginny came undone with the touch of his fingertips, her world bursting, once again, into a fire. Her insides ignited for Harry. She felt far from perfect, but with Harry she felt alive.

Her hands worked to remove his faded T-shirt, eager to return the favor. Fingers trailed down his chest, avoiding the new scars on his body. She wrapped her hand around his length and Harry’s breath hitched, a noise escaping his mouth that Ginny wanted to bottle up and savor forever. He never had to say anything to her ever again as long as he kept making that noise.

“Ginny,” Harry moaned, “I don’t think I will last much long-”

Ginny shut him up by capturing his mouth with her own. Teeth grazing his swollen lips. With a few more pumps, Harry shuddered about another moan that made Ginny’s toes curl.

Harry blinked his eyes open, green irises hidden behind his black pupils, staring hungerly at her. He pressed lazy kisses along her jawline, nose, forehead, before finally catching her lips. “You make me forget everything bad,” Harry sighed into her lips.

Ginny’s insides turned cold, the blazing heat evaporated and replaced by an icy tundra. She wasn’t sure why, Harry’s confession or the idea of forgetting, losing memories.

“Goodnight, Harry,” Ginny said, hoping to prevent any more confessions from slipping through his loose lips.

“Night, Gin” Harry replied softly.

Harry’s bare chest rose and fell with each breath, and Ginny wished nothing more than the ability to join him in unconsciousness. Her finger traced the lightning bolt on his chest, her own chest tightening with memories of that day. She thought she lost him. The final blow in a series of blows that kept hitting her over and over again that night.

With everything she lost, she had to keep taking steps. One at a time.

One breath in. One breath out.

Ginny glanced out her window. The rain had slowed to a trickle. The blooming daisy sitting in the window sill caught her eye. She bolted up from her bed, grabbing the flower on her way out the door.

The orchard was still a mess. Her mum had removed the destroyed flowers, but all that was left was upturned earth. Falling to her hands and knees, Ginny dug in the soil. A wand would have made it easier, but she did not want easy.

Taking a step back and admiring her work, the daisy Harry had given her now rooted in the soil of the orchard. Alone. With a promise of growth.

To new beginnings.

The best and worst day of June (chapter 2)

If May trickled slowly like the water on the River Styx, June crashed in like a tsunami under Poseidon's rage.

The back door slammed close after George drunkenly stumbly out

Maps of Australia and pictures of the brain were pinned up on her walls. Gwenog Jones’s face was covered by a colorful poster highlighting the anatomy of the brain.

“Do you need any help?” Ginny asked.

Hermione tutted, wrapping her hair into a bun and sticking her want through it. “I wouldn’t mind a fresh pair of eyes. Thanks.”

Ginny picked up one of the massive textbook with a brain on the cover Charms of the Central Nervous System: Don’t be Nervous! Opening to the back glossary, Ginny scanned the O’s until she found what she was looking for.

Peering over her shoulder, Hermione said “I didn’t obliviate my parents’ memories. I blocked them.”

“What’s the difference?”

Hermione stood from the bed and walked over to the brain poster covering Gwenog’s face. “Obliviation destroys old memories. Burns them. That is why Gilderoy Lockhart will never fully recover because so much of his brain was destroyed. If little bits are taken then there is some neuroplasticity and ability to regenerate what was missing, but if I took 17 years of my parents' lives from them, I would never be able to get that back.” She paused, staring off into the distance, as though she was realizing the challenge she could be facing instead.

Shaking her head, Hermione continued. “So instead of taking away their memories, I hid them behind a wall.”

“The hippocampus stores memories,” Hermione said, pointing to a part of the brain that looked nothing like a seahorse. “So that is where my parents’ memories are being blocked. I just put their old memories behind a wall and put new memories in front of that wall.”

“There has not been a whole lot of research, but in theory, worst case scenario, if I remove their new memories too quickly, I could cause their brain to blow.”

“I’m sorry what?”

“Not like pew pew,” Hermione said, mimicking an explosion. “More like, their brains would swell to fill in the space of the memories that I took back. Which could cause their brain to expand and possibly herniate causing a stroke."

She mindlessly flipped through the pages of the textbook, hoping something would give her hints about memory and memory loss.

Ginny drops comments every now and then about memory loss

She is not very happy that Hermione took her parents memories

“What are you planning on telling your parents when you see them?”

“That I am their daughter and I had to keep them safe.”

“Do you think they will understand?”

“From personal experience, amnesia and having your memories taken from you can be very traumatizing.”

“This is different from the diary, Ginny. I was trying to keep them safe.”

As we will find out in a later chapter, Ginny is not talking about the diary

"Are you going to go with them?" Ginny asks on a warm night.

"No, I don't fancy facing another Winter so soon," Harry replied

And there it was. A hint about what he had faced this past year, but neither one pushed forward. She could ask, and he might answer, but then he might ask the same of her. And that was something she did not want to answer. Some Gryffindor she is.

Harry tells her everything about the horcruxes and how we was one for the last 16 years of his life.

Ginny tells Harry very little about what she experienced this last year.

Hermione goes up to switch beds like they do every night and when Harry is lying next to her, she dreams about him. But when he talks she hears Tom. When she wakes and Harry is laying right next to her, she freaks the fuck out.

The next day she runs away to Lunas

Luna “I always liked being outside. Now I love it even more. It is open, and bright. I’m not a big fan of the dark right now.”

“If you want to talk about it, I will happily listen.”

“Ginny, you are such a good listener, but not a very good talker.”

“You should tell Ron that. He says I never shut up.”

“Oh no you talk, you just don’t talk about what is bothering you. You ask questions about me or how other people are doing, but when people ask how you are doing. You deflect. You talk about how Quidditch is going, or how your family is. But never you.

A few nights later, Harry joins her out flying, and that is when she admits that she is afraid that she was never in love with Harry, but she was attracted to the horcrux within him this entire time.

Harry has to put his big boy pants on and try to be emotionally mature hearing that from her. (Boy does not do a very good job, but at least he is trying)

He tries to get her to open up more about what happened to her and slowly we start to see some things

She picked up a strand of grass, carefully pulling it apart into two separate pieces. A simple distraction. "What do you know of last year?"

"Only what little Neville has told me."

"I'm sure what he told you paints the picture of what happened," she shrugged. She couldn't meet his gaze, she stared at the grass in her hand, delicately tying it into a knot. His hand reached for hers, fingers intertwining. He squeezed her hand gently, reassuringly. Offering support.

---

She is hiding. She doesn’t want to talk to Harry, or see her mum’s broken face. So she is hiding in the one place no one would look.

Laying on Fred’s bed, she could finally be alone.

***enter depressing thoughts here***

---

On June 22nd, she dreams of Tom. She always dreams of him on this day. Their anniversary of meeting face to face in a chamber meant to be a secret. She wants to ask Harry if he remembers, but she doesn't dare for the fear of what he might say.

I forgot.

Lucky you.

So she keeps this nightmare to herself just like she kept the past year to herself. She felt like she was slowly becoming a chamber full of secrets herself.

That night, with her back against Harry’s chest and one of his arms draped across her stomach, was the first time she felt brave all day. In the dark where he couldn’t see her face, when they were alone, unlikely to be overheard since the house was asleep. She finally muttered the truth that haunted her.

“I'm the reason Sophie's dead.”

The only indication that Harry heard her was the pause in his breath. Harry’s arm tightened, pulling her impossibly closer to his chest. And because he understands her perfectly, he does not suggest that she possibly could not be a murderer, he asks a different question.

“Why do you think so?”

She inhales slowly, calming down her nerves. “I left her on the courtyard. We were fighting together, Colin and Seamus were also there. Spells were flying everywhere, and I lost her in the crowd. There just was so much chaos. Then a death eater was in front of me, I think it was Avery, firing curse after curse at me,” Ginny paused, flashes of that night playing over and over in her mind. “I fired a reducto at the arch above his head and it collapsed on top of him. But it caused a lot more damage. It wasn’t much later that Voldemort called for a pause.

“After, well after, I went inside,” Ginny said, skipping over finding out about Fred’s death, “I went out to the courtyard to find survivors. To help. That is where I found her. Underneath the rubble that I caused.”

"You couldn’t have known.”

But Ginny felt like she should have known better. She knew innocent actions have consequences after surviving her first year

I've been down since July

In the cracks of light, I dreamed of you

The Great Depression

Pieces of her life were black. Dark and missing and forgotten. She had soared to unimaginable heights to try to find them, but every time she thought she heard a whisper of a memory, it turned into his voice mocking her, or worse, her own voice laughing at her.

Hermione and Ron come back from Australia

Hermione apologizes to Ginny because her mum cannot forgive her. Her dad had to play mediator in the argument.

Her parents are coming back to England eventually, but not yet. They wanted more time before returning home.

Ron and Ginny conversation

"It's supposed to be easy. Harry and me. How it was before."

"What did you used to talk about."

"I tried prying once to know what he was up to with Dumbledore, but Harry not so subtly shut that down quickly. So we stuck to safe topics. Quidditch, O.W.L.s, how maroon definitely isn't your color."

Ron scowled.

Criminal Trials get announced for the Death Eaters and the date

A brown owl flew into the kitchen, dropping off the newest edition of the Daily Prophet on Hermione’s plate. She reached into her shorts pocket to trade a knut for the paper. Ron fed a small piece of his breakfast sausage to the owl as compensation as well. The owl gave a satisfied hoot before flapping its wings and flying out of the kitchen window.

Ginny pointed her fork at her brother. "Who was the person I suggested you snogged for practice?"

"Are you seriously asking me security questions right now?"

"The Ron Weasley I know would never voluntarily give up some of his breakfast."

Ron stabbed his fork in another piece of sausage, taking the whole thing in his mouth, "Yeah well I've matured."

"Oh! They released the dates for the trails!" Hermione shouted, interrupting them.

Ron looked away from her and turned back to his girlfriend. “When’s Malfoy’s?” He asked, kindly swallowing his food before asking.

The Carrow trials get announced for like August 13th, making sure that they are AFTER Ginny's birthday which makes her an adult, therefore, she is required to speak at them if they summon her as a witness

yeah this was done intentionally, fuck the ministry for forcing my girl to have to relive her trauma

Harry’s birthday

Ginny gets drunk at Harry’s party

I love you, ain't that the worst thing you’ve ever heard?

August slipped away

Ginny’s birthday

Carrow trials

Amycus was a man. He only understood pain in tears and in blood. He didn’t understand that to girls blood meant nothing more than washing their sheets that night before bed. He didn’t understand that girlhood was pain, or that tears could be shed from grief or laughter.

Alecto was a woman. She understood that trauma of girlhood because no matter how horrid she currently is, she was a victim of it too. She understood how to torture a young girl scared of her past. She knew how to weaponize memories, or the lack thereof, so that Ginny could continue to torture herself without Alecto lifting another finger.

Ginny turned to the other side of the courtroom where Amycus Carrow sat. His face emotionless, but his muddy eyes filled with glee, like her reliving her torture was *erotic* for him.

She felt her heart quicken. Calm down.

Breathe in and out.

"Her brother told me."

Her mind brought her back to the floor of the DADA classroom. Those same hungry brown eyes staring down at her, his wand still raised. Every one of her nerve endings felt like it was on fire, every synapse filled with ice. Her mind bounced from one area of her body to the next, unable to focus on what body system hurt the most. Amycus lowered his wand and sneered down at her, "I know Alecto makes you forget her detentions, but I want this one to be unforgettable."

The courtroom was silent. The judge leaned forward in his chair, "Can you please further explain, Miss Weasley?"

Breathe In.

Out.

In.

Out.

• So since I never actually wrote what happened to Ginny during her time with Alecto, I will tell you all now. Alecto would erase Ginny's memory after every detention. Often times, the detentions were tame, because the punishment was the fact that Ginny was slowly losing her mind and she felt like she was reliving her first year at Hogwarts. Alecto figured out that Ginny was the girl in the chamber (because how would people not know this information? like Ginny wrote her suicide note on the wall in red paint) and used that to torment her. Also tying in the fact that Amycus was still torturing my poor girl with the cruciatus curse, Ginny was going through it. And it is not like she could really tell anyone what was happening to her because she didn't know what was happening to her. She eventually pieced it together.

• The coming together of Harry and Ginny officially

You'll Have New Septembers

The epilogue where Harry sends Ginny off on the Hogwarts express

#graveyard fic #hinny #ginny weasley #i could just upload the first chapter.... but that also feels like a disservice to the rest of the fic #Spotify

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brf-rumortrackinganon · 2 months

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Invictus 2027 in Birmingham, so either she intends to make a "triumphant" return to the UK because Invictus is all about her now or she intends to divorce before then. Which do you think? 2025 will be seven years and I think she'll want to move on by then.

Door #1: the Triumphant Return of Meghan, Duchess of Sussex to the UK Harry and Meghan do Birmingham 2027 together. They will bring Prince Archie and Princess Lili with them for their societal debut. We thought March 2020 was the revenge tour? Oh, no, this is the revenge tour!

Door #2: the Triumphant Victory Lap of Harry, the Divorced Duke of Sussex. Harry and the kids do Birmingham 2027 as their official relaunch in the UK following a divorce, their move back to the UK, and Harry's welcome back into the BRF family. Expect the Yorkies and Spencers to show up in support. The Waleses, Edinburghs, and Phillips branch will otherwise be busy.

Door #3: the Triumphant Snubbing by Meghan, Duchess of Sussex Harry does Birmingham 2027 alone while Meghan stays home with the kids, who unfortunately cannot miss an entire week of school. Even though it's July.

Which door will it be? It depends on what happens in Vancouver 2025. The Sussexes have already begun promoting it as the first ever "family friendly" Invictus Games - meaning they intend to debut Archie and Lili then.

If Meghan can successfully launch the Prince Archie and Princess Lili brands at Vancouver 2025 - remember, they've already begun promoting it at the first ever "family friendly" Invictus Games so they can bring Archie and Lili - then she isn't doing Birmingham 2027. She won't need Invictus Games anymore because she'll have her momager brand. But will her absence be because of divorce or because of some other excuse? Time will tell.

If Meghan can't launch the Archie and Lili brands at Vancouver, then she's probably sticking around for, and attending, 2027.

By the way, this is where Birmingham is in relation to London. It's a 2.5 hour drive. There won't be daily pap stunts in/around London during the games so chances of a plandid run-in with members of the BRF are even less likely than they were a couple of months ago for the 10th anniversary service.

I personally think it's going to be Door #3. They're still married but Meghan doesn't go and blames it on the kids being in a summer camp or a year-round school that they can't get time off from...something that's super obvious that we all see through.

#invictus games #sussexes

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ttm-rayllum-baby-au · 2 months

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Happy Rayllum Month, and Happy July 13th! ...aka, happy ttm baby conception day!

To celebrate, here's a section from Chapter 1 of Piece of Your Heart, our main WIP! <3

She just…needs him.

Callum.

Just…Callum.

Rayla sighs his name aloud too, her breath quickening again and her heart pounding in her ears. Just kissing him, just holding him…it’s escape, sure, but it’s not enough.

She needs him closer—under her hands, on her body—so she can show herself—

He’s safe. He’s here.

She pulls at his scarf the next time they breathe, unwinding it from his neck, then taking his hands and setting them on her hips. She closes his fingers around her belt and starts the both of them over towards his bed, aching all over for him—

“Oh, uh—” he hesitates…but stumbles backwards easily at her bidding. “—okay.”

“Hold on, dummy. We’ll get the bed wet,” she realizes with a breathy laugh, catching him by his lapels before he can crash into the mattress…then leaving her thumbs there beneath the edges of his jacket. She knows his skin is hot and soft and solid under there, and she needs to touch him—really touch him.

It’s far from the first time she’s stripped it off of him, but—

“Just, uh—” Callum envelopes her hands in his after his jacket hits the floor, hair she’d mussed sticking up every which way, flushed face tilted to the side…concern cutting through the heat. “This is…what you need?”

Rayla nods, lip between her teeth…and that’s enough—apparently—for Callum to give her her hands back. She’s shaking again, she realizes…and then instantly steady the second she’s touching him, the runes on his arms as hot as she’d known they’d be under her fingers.

“I need you, Callum,” she says, steady, but…not satisfied either.

He looks meaningfully down between them…and starts unbuckling her belt like she’d wanted him to—but slowly, his hands now shaking.

“And you want…”

She’s wanted this for weeks, and he’s known that. It’ll be…new tonight—going all the way, he’d called it a while ago—but…not new new. They know a little, at least, by now, about where to touch and how to please and what they like…and she’s more sure than ever.

Nothing will be as satisfying.

Nothing will keep everything else away.

She needs—

“This.”

Her belt falls to the floor…and Rayla moves closer, watching how his eyes brighten then warm, watching color creep up to his cheeks from his neck, watching his uncertain stalling turn to enthusiasm.

Callum whispers to her, smiling softly, voice shaking, touching her face again—

“I need you too, Rayla.”

—and crashes back against her.

#rayllum #rayllum fanfic #piece of your heart #the dragon prince #ttm rayllum baby au #hype content!#rayllum month #through the moon #ttm #tdp #wip

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thistransient · 2 months

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Halfway through July, and I have neglected to write my yearly birthday introspection, although it did occur to me that between my birthday and the new year I was in fact doing two introspections a year anyways.

For certain reasons I've been waffling about it, but it's also quite nice to be able to look back and compare with the previous year, to see what's changed (sometimes unexpectedly) and what's still the same. Last year I mentioned I "made a close friend [...] and disentangled myself from a draining relationship", but in the end I had been drawn to said friend because he was the polar opposite of the person I was disentangling myself from, and while a different extreme might have been refreshing in the moment, that too was unsustainable in the long run. I think what finally dragged me out of the cycle of too-clingy/too-distant nebulous just-friends-but-what-if sort of relationships was twofold: I started going to counselling with a goal (not the usual "I feel like I'm having a breakdown so I'll see a therapist for 3-6 months before ditching"), and also got into a communal hobby such that I was able to make casual friends and attend regular and diverse events with a time limit (rather than laser focusing on one person and relying on them for all my socialising).

A year ago I said I was feeling adrift, goal-less, and filled with the sort of summer malaise inspired by the scorching Taipei weather this time of year. Unfortunately we are still rather scorched. The temperature and UV levels somewhat put a damper on my usual practice of walking around outside looking at things. On the positive side, I did struggle through the adrift-ness and applied for one (1) grad school program over the winter, which I didn't get into but I did learn that I feel better when I'm working on something, and I was also motivated to finally take Taiwan's Chinese proficiency exam to open up my options for the sort of programs I could try for in the future (I passed a level higher than I expected to, and it was great to feel acknowledgment of my competence at something I'd really put long-term effort into). After the grad school rejection I started planning the trip to Ladakh, which allllmost felt like it involved a similar level of paperwork and fuss- and actually pulling that off in the end (ok, even tho this was after my birthday) despite all my fears and anxiety (particularly around travelling post-transition) was also a great confidence boost. (For a week after I also had this frantic urge to drastically change my life, and I can't tell if it wore off with time or if the heat simply drained out all ambition beyond staying out of the sun and sitting in front of the fan eating cold dragonfruits.)

I have at least two proper goals now, and although one may require starting over entirely from an educational standpoint, as they say, "the time will pass anyways". On my bike rides at night I do tend to start pondering what shall become of me, creeping along in the years but being no closer to permanent or even temporary residency status than any other time I write about it either wistfully or with well-intentioned but otherwise ultimately futile determination, nor feeling like I am useful for any sort of capitalist pursuits. (I suppose this is the part of reflection wherein things have stayed the same, and we must stay tuned for next year.) But I also believe I have made some progress in deflating a little the omnipresent catholic guilt at simply existing, not to mention the adjacent notion that enjoying life a bit and not being maximally miserable at all times is a SIN. By this I mean I have gone twice now to a nice hair salon to let a beautiful woman shampoo, condition, and also give me a haircut that doesn't bear a strong resemblance to a bichon-frise immediately after.

All in all, I would say the verdict is incremental improvement. (Okay maybe I'm also racking up incremental nerve damage from all the shibari but you win some you lose some.) My housing/employment/visa-running status hasn't changed dramatically but I feel more hopeful and kinder with myself. I think my Chinese reading speed has kicked up a notch. I've managed to keep the instant noodle consumption under control. I've sent a lot of postcards on my quarterly trips, which are generally well-received. I have taken great delight in growing many plants in the window cage (whether they survive is another thing, RIP to the tomato plants while I was away, bravo to the basil that miraculously rehydrated from what seemed to be a completely unsalvageable state, sorry to the lemon tree sprout that was apparently doing fine on its own before I came back and over-watered it to death). Things feel kinda okay, and I used to be quite suspicious of this because surely they were only going to get worse again, but these days I figure hey, even so, might as well enjoy it while it lasts.

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talonabraxas · 4 months

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When All the Stars Align Talon Abraxas

Next month, on June 3, there will be a planetary alignment that may actually allow you to witness six planets align in the sky. This is a rare astronomical phenomenon. So, if you were not present for the breathtaking show of the northern lights a few weeks ago, you may have another opportunity to see something really unique in the night sky.

It is the best opportunity to see Mercury, Mars, Jupiter, Saturn, Uranus, and Neptune all at once in the sky due to the planetary alignment.

Upcoming conjunctions

May 31, 2024: Mercury-Uranus

On May 31, at 01:24 GMT (May 30, 9:24 p.m. ET), Mercury will pass 1°21' from Uranus in the constellation Taurus. The planets will be above the eastern horizon in the morning. This conjunction will be difficult to see from either hemisphere, as the planets will be obscured by sunlight. Also, Uranus isn't visible to the naked eye and requires optics.

June 4, 2024: Jupiter-Mercury

On June 4, at 10:04 GMT (06:04 a.m. ET), Jupiter will pass 7'04" from Mercury in the constellation Taurus. Unfortunately, the conjunction will be difficult to see from most locations because the planets will be too close to the Sun. You can try your luck and look for them low over the northeastern horizon in the morning. Use the Sky Tonight app to find the planets in the sky.

July 15, 2024: Mars-Uranus

On July 15 at 09:22 GMT (05:22 a.m. ET), Mars will pass very close (0°33') to Uranus in the constellation Taurus. From the Northern Hemisphere, the planets will be visible high above the eastern horizon in the morning, about an hour before sunrise. From the Southern Hemisphere, they will be a little lower, in the northeastern direction. You'll need at least a pair of binoculars to see Uranus.

August 7, 2024: Mercury-Venus

On August 7, at 17:23 GMT (1:23 p.m. ET), Mercury will pass 5°42' from Venus. Venus will be in the constellation Leo, while Mercury will be on the border of Leo and the small constellation Sextans. Because the planets will be close to the Sun, they will be difficult to observe. You can try to see them in the evening, low in the west.

August 14, 2024: Mars-Jupiter

On August 14, at 14:45 GMT (10:45 a.m. ET), reddish Mars will pass just 0°18' from bright Jupiter. This beautiful duo will be visible to the naked eye in the constellation Taurus. Considering the brightness of both planets, the distance between them, and their visibility, this conjunction can be considered the best of the year. From the Northern Hemisphere, Mars and Jupiter will be visible from about midnight until morning, rising high above the eastern horizon. In the Southern Hemisphere, the planets will rise in the northeast in the morning, a few hours before sunrise.

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amateurvoltaire · 4 months

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In one of your last posts you mentioned you were studying the civil war in Vandée. Have you ever seen the rather new movie "Vaincre ou Mourir" on the topic? If yes, what do you think of it? I was very curious to give it a try, hoping it's not the usual demonisation of the revolutionary government. Not that I expect it to be portrayed positively in a movie focused on the Vendéean insurgents pov, of course...

Thanks a lot for your question! It’s the first one I've ever received, and I’m really excited to dive into it. (I might have gone a bit overboard, so grab a coffee or a drink before you tackle this beast… TLDR at the bottom…)

I watched "Vaincre ou Mourir" a couple of months ago. Before I dive into my thoughts, the man himself would like a word:

All jokes aside, have you ever been to one of those medieval theme parks where they offer a "realistic" medieval show with dinner? As a kid, every summer, my parents took me to a jousting show at an Italian theme park. We'd watch two knights fight each other for an hour while being “medieval” and munching on chicken legs without any cutlery.

That's pretty much how I felt watching this movie: it’s flashy and fun but doesn’t have much going on underneath. It makes more sense when you discover that the film was funded by Puy du Feu, a large historical theme park in Vendée.

The context

And this is the thing: despite the Canal+ distribution, most of the production is local. The Vendée itself is often defined as a memory space (1), which can lead to a community feeling a special connection to their past. This is often reflected in local traditions, commemorations, and even political leanings. I remember watching an interview from the bicentenary where some locals said they don’t celebrate the 14th of July as a matter of principle—200 years later!

It’s also worth noting that the Vendée has a history of conservative and right-leaning political preferences, and Canal+ is also a right-leaning media outlet.

The Experts

Is it a documentary? Is it a fictional film? It's hard to say in the first few minutes.

The movie attempts to project historical accuracy by introducing four experts right at the start. If a film opens with such a direct appeal to authority, I tend to scrutinise who these experts are. So, who are they?

Reynald Secher: a historian who has been a massive proponent of the Vandean genocide theory. He is very anti-Republican, and his research methodologies are rather sketchy…

Nicolas Delahaye: I don’t know much about him, but I see he publishes primarily regionally in a Vendean publishing house. That doesn’t necessarily mean he’s particularly biased, but it does mean his audience is very limited to people with specific views.

Anne Rolland-Boulestreau: a historian at the Université Catholique de l’Ouest specialising in the Vendée counter-revolution. Her articles in the Annales Historiques de la Révolution Française seem unbiased and well-researched. I own one of her books but haven't read it yet, so I can't speak to her longer-form content.

Armand Bernand: if you google de la Rochejaquelein, you will find this guy everywhere. He owns a publishing house, loves the Château de la Durbelière (2), and wrote a series of books set there. He clearly has a historical crush on M. Henri. I think he cosplayed him during some re-enactments and wrote a book about Henri’s brother Auguste.

It’s worth mentioning they either hail from Vendée or work exclusively within the region. This is my bias speaking because I’ve pretty much read all his work, but if you make a movie about the Vendee and can’t get Jean-Clément Martin to say something on camera about it, you should probably not feature any experts…

The Story

After an awkward three minutes of experts telling us how important the revolution was and introducing Charette, we get to the actual movie, which opens with a pile of bodies, burnings, a hanged person, and an awkward first-person voiceover of Charette saying that they made the Vendee into an inferno. This will be a theme for the next hour or so.

If I were to describe this film in two words, "tragedy porn" would fit. What occurred in Vendée was horrific, and its rightly violent portrayal should help viewers understand and appreciate the human and historical impact. However, the film often prioritises shock value over explaining the underlying reasons.

Charette is, by all accounts, a very compelling subject. The guy was a libertine with bucket-loads of courage and style who had a woman as an aide de camp in 1793! Despite spending 1.5 hours with him, narrated from his perspective, I would be hard-pressed to tell you what he’s actually fighting for. Is it honour? Is it revenge? Is it stubbornness? Your guess is as good as mine!

There is absolutely no character growth whatsoever. The film presents as a sequence of battles and shocking scenes narrated by a somewhat detached Charette. Remember what I said about the medieval show? This shock-value approach might work for a short performance during dinner but falls flat when stretched across an entire film.

Despite the weak script, the actors are quite good. Nothing Oscar-worthy, but they can act. The guy that plays Charette does a very good job and is quite charismatic.

The Historical Accuracy

On the whole, I can’t see glaring historical errors. It is fairly historically accurate with some minor issues. This is obviously not an exhaustive list, but there are things I noticed and jotted down:

The main one is the bizarre theory that Charette agreed to the peace of 1795 because he was promised that Louis XVII would be handed to him. This has absolutely no credible historical basis whatsoever. It’s a myth that has been propagated for over 200 years.

I’m pretty sure Charette didn’t sign the treaty of La Jaunaye. In fact, as far as I remember, no one from the insurgent side signed it.

While not a historical inaccuracy per se, it's a missed opportunity that the film often portrays Charette as the sole leader of the Vendean army. Though he mentions being one chief among many, this aspect is quickly glossed over. His historical relationship with the Catholic and Royal Army and its leaders was complex and would have been interesting to explore further. It's a shame the film likely didn't have the budget to delve into this, as it could have also demonstrated that Vendée wasn't a monolith.

The depiction of the republican army as well-equipped is somewhat exaggerated. If they were as well-appointed as shown, Carnot and Prieur (Cote D’or) would be out of a job, and Saint-Just wouldn't have needed to requisition shoes for the army.

Lastly, the film underexplains the context of why the counter-revolution started. In my opinion, it manipulatively emphasises the king's execution more than warranted, suggesting it triggered the popular uprising when it really did not. The conflict in Vendée began as a peasant revolt, where the local population was far more concerned with religious issues than royal politics. Most Vendean peasants likely couldn't name the king—they probably knew he was a Louis since there had been a Louis on the throne for 200 years, but that's about it. Their concerns were local: when parish priests who had taken the civic oath replaced their traditional priests, and the Levée en masse was decreed, forcing them to fight random Germans 600 km away for a regime threatening their way of life, they rebelled.

Is the movie anti-Republican propaganda?

To wrap up, is the film anti-Republican? Frankly, I don’t believe it is overtly so. It adopts a somewhat clichéd stance: the revolution's ideals were noble, but things eventually went too far. While I have plenty of thoughts on this—which I'll keep to myself for now—I wouldn’t say this perspective is inherently anti-Republican.

Charette is depicted as initially supportive of the revolution, which is accurate for many aristocrats, especially the minor nobility. The portrayal of Republican soldiers is balanced, with General Jean-Pierre Travot sometimes appearing more honourable than Charette. As the main character, Charette is shown as lazy, indecisive, and sometimes brutal, so the film does not attempt to heroise him. The princes, especially Artois, are also depicted negatively. So, the film isn’t overtly royalist.

Is there a specific stance against the Government (aka the CSP)? I don’t recall them being mentioned, which, again, is accurate since most Vendeeans, including the nobility, were not deeply involved in Parisian politics.

That being said, Carrier and Turreau are portrayed very negatively, and rightfully so. Republican generals are also shown as less likely to spare the "brigands" when captured, which aligns with historical accounts. The movie leans heavily on shock value, featuring hard-to-watch scenes of executions, guillotines, and drownings. Unfortunately, even the staunchest republican historians would be hard-pressed to find the evidence to call those scenes revisionists.

Beyond that, the only thing that stood out to me about the Republicans is that they made Kleber look about 60 years old.

In conclusion, is this the most accurate film ever? Certainly not. Is it counter-revolutionary propaganda? I genuinely don’t think so, and if someone claims otherwise, they’re likely being disingenuous.

TLDR:

Watched the movie "Vaincre ou Mourir," which felt like a medieval theme park show—entertaining but lacking depth, probably due to its funding by an actual historical theme park. Despite its attempt to appear historically accurate with expert interviews, the film fails to deeply explore its characters or the complexities of the Vendée region's history. While it doesn't contain major historical inaccuracies, it oversimplifies the causes and events of the Vendée uprising, focusing more on visual shock than factual explanation. Not outright anti-Republican or counter-revolutionary, but doesn't offer new insights into anything. Overall, flashy but not as informative as it could be.

Notes

A memory space is defined as a location (physical or otherwise) where memories, histories, and narratives are preserved, shared, and understood within a society or culture. Things like museums, monuments, rituals, stories and in this case a region can be memory spaces

Château de la Durbelière was the home of La Rochejaquelein

PS: Thank you again for your question! I had a lot of fun answering it.

#frev #french revolution #vendee war #vendee #charette #amateurvoltaire's essay ramblings #vaincre ou mourir #review

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zahri-melitor · 1 year

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Playing with the Dick-Jason-Tim age timeline again because playing with “can I fit Dick being 8 at the circus and Tim also being there” is enrichment for my brain.

Using Batman: Year 3 and A Lonely Place of Dying as the starting point this time, being that they are the ORIGIN of the timeline dilemma that nobody can quite square, and I have a solution to offer for the timeline up to LPoD (highly dependent on ‘if the pre-Crisis fact doesn’t fit, that’s because it’s pre-Crisis’ and ignoring future retcons. I’m building this from the original scaffold)

Dick is 8 at the circus. Tim is 3. We will establish this via Year 3 (“almost 10 years” since the Graysons died/the orphanage) and Tim’s canonical age in LPoD (13).

Given the fuzziness over when Tim actually turned 14, we’re going to run with Dick being close to his birthday when LPoD occurs. Using the 20 March birthday for Dick and the 19 July birthday for Tim, this gives us a 5 year, 4 month age gap and makes Tim about 3 ½ at the circus, which is a little older than I like him to be (I have so much more flexibility with dates if I can claim he’s 2, damn you Year 3 for using ‘almost’ rather than ‘approximately’), but we’ll live with it because I really need Dick to be almost 19 on the day Tim appears simply to try and cram as much pre-Crisis late-Robin and Nightwing history in as possible. This contradicts Dick being 20 prior to Jason’s death, but Dick can’t both be 20, have the circus 10 years ago, and be 8 years old for his parents’ death. However, squaring this with Janet Drake’s burial date of Christmas Eve is difficult, because Tim still being 13 at her funeral becomes impossible. Alternatively, if we use the 24 October birthday for Dick and still place Haly’s Circus and LPoD in the period before Dick’s birthday (maybe some time in September/October), we can come out of this with “about to turn 19” Dick and “13 and a bit” Tim, with a 5 year, 9 months gap between them, plus giving Tim a 3 month training period before he debuts as Robin on 24 December. In either case, choose whether Dick being born on the first of Northern Hemisphere Spring or Janet Drake being buried on Actual Christmas Eve is the more important fact in your heart to determine which option you use here.

Timeline markers:

Dick therefore does not debut as Robin until he is 9. He was Robin from 1940 to 1984, a period of 8, almost 9 years using ye olde 5 real years to 1 comics year rule. This actually matches fairly well with the date I want to give as when Dick stops being Robin – at some point when he’s 17. Yes, I have to give up the semester at Hudson University still happening while Dick is Robin not Nightwing, but that’s pre-Crisis. The Bruce and Dick fight where Bruce benches Dick, Dick storms out, and heads off to New York to be his own man (and changes his name to Nightwing) all happens at some point when Dick is ~17. Dick’s schooling is a bit of a black hole given his childhood and the contradictory birthdays (and the fact I’m not great on northern hemisphere school year dates and start dates). I THINK the October birthday is better for this in that we just have to pretend he was the youngest in the class, and can say Dick finished school still 17 and before he becomes Nightwing. March birthday I think if the fight happened while Dick was still 17 and at school, our lad was commuting from New York to school for the final few months (good thing his best friends include a speedster and a flyer, I guess). Or it happened when Dick was 18 and 3 months on approximately the exact day after Dick finished school, and the timeline suddenly gets VERY tight.

I like Dick being 17 when he becomes Nightwing if we can wrangle it for the simple fact that it gives a nice parallel for when Tim is 17 (and also loses the Robin title). Dick having gone through his big growing up moment before he entered legal adulthood makes the way the same mistake echoes down over the years more poignant (everyone has to grow up too young). I also would really like Dick to have finished his high school education before he becomes Nightwing simply because it makes a more coherent growing up narrative (and figuring out how Dick finished his education if he was living in New York is a headache we can then avoid).

In any case. Dick’s had his fight with Bruce. Call it June-July. Bruce, feeling lonely, decides the next sad teenager he meets who is trying to steal his tires is a great prospect to be the next Robin (son). Hello Jason. Jason is also 13. He is about to turn 14 the first moment possible. His birthday is apparently 16 August, which works really well for the fight going down right after Dick finishes school. Bruce makes Jason Robin. We are now on a hurried countdown. Jason turns 14. He was Robin from 1983-1988, which is right on 5 years, so approximately 1 comic year. Jason canonically dies on 27 April according to one picture of his tombstone. This would make him 14-nearly-15. This works great for October Birthday Dick and terrible for March Birthday Dick. If we have October Birthday Dick, Jason was around for ~10 months before he dies in April. If we have March Birthday Dick, Jason was around for anywhere between 7 months (Dick fired at 18 in June, Jason dies around January the next year) and a year (Dick fired before March still 17, Jason appears immediately after, and again dies around January/February the next year) while we ignore that April death date.

This works well on a meta level. One, there’s simply not that many Jason-as-Robin stories. Every time people stretch his period from Batmobile-tyres-to-death out beyond 20 months or so, you start hitting the point where you have more timeline than story to fill it, a problem seen practically nowhere else in comics. Jason has been cited as having 6 months of training before he went out on the streets. You can keep all of this if you want a very short period with Jason in the costume, you can call this comics time and shorten it if you’d prefer Jason to have longer in the costume. But Jason-as-Robin only lasting under a year lines up with everything about how we approximate the passage of time in comics. Secondly, Jason being Robin for only a short period matches the fact that he has very few interactions with Dick and the wider hero community. He has, what, ONE team up with the Titans? The one ski trip with Dick? Checking the Events timeline he had COIE (which he doesn’t remember), plus Legends and Millennium, for 3 Events during his tenure. He appears on page for all of these, but not in a manner where he’s interacting with heroes outside Gotham in any way he’d remember. He’s pretty isolated, but also there really isn’t any TIME to give him wider connections.

Also during this period, the majority of the NTT stuff prior to LPoD occurs, and Dick hypothetically does his single semester at university before dropping out (probably due to the amount of stuff going on in his life making studying hard). He may even have dropped out of university DUE to the drama surrounding all of this depending on which birthday timeline you run with. Tim is a lil bean at boarding school.

In any case, Jason Todd died. He wasn’t even 15 yet. It’s very tragic. Bruce immediately starts going off the rails with grief. October Birthday Dick (seriously, this just suits the timeframe here so much better) then gives us anywhere between 3-6 months of Bruce grieving and getting steadily more unstable before 13 year old Tim Drake decides Something Must Be Done, We Need A Robin. He then heads off to find Dick Grayson at any point between July and October, make this gap however long-short you want. March Birthday Dick we probably cram death-until-realisation into under 2 months, but we’re working with even more of a sliding scale given it’s just harder to anchor known stuff in this timeline.

Ta da!

Conclusions:

if I want this to work I am gonna run with the 24 October birthday for Dick, just because it makes pinning dates down easier. Sorry, 20 March birthday fans.

Ages: Tim is either 5 years, 4 months or 5 years, 8 months younger than Dick. Tim is 23 months younger than Jason. Jason is either 3 years, 3 months or 3 years, 7 months younger than Dick.

Cass is 2 years, 6 months older than Tim. She is 5 months older than Jason. She is either 2 years, 10 months or 3 years, 2 months younger than Dick.

Steph is about a year older than Tim and about a year younger than Cass.

Damian, who is extremely indirectly affected by anything in this timeline, is 6-7 years younger than Tim and 12 years younger than Dick. He was definitely conceived while Dick was Robin.

Incidentally: Tim figuring out Dick is Robin happens when he is 9. With this timeline, Dick was 14-15 when Tim worked that out. Tim therefore spent at LEAST two years fanboying Dick!Robin, and then saw Jason!Robin for at most a year, realistically closer to 6 months. “Jason was my Robin” doesn’t exist

(Also tragically for me, The ‘Tim is 3’ reading of the circus means that Tim was definitely born prior to Bruce’s return to Gotham. There’s this lovely little wrinkle that if you use a timeline where he’s 2 at the circus, he was probably born right around when Bruce debuted at Batman, which is just a sweet little note for a character so tied to other people’s origin stories)

(Seriously though if you allow Dick be 10 when he is orphaned, it lets him be Robin until 18-19, he can turn 20 before Jason’s death, frees up so much timeline kludging around the Jason period, even if it does create a bigger age gap between Dick and Tim)

#dc #playing with timelines #dc meta #post-crisis is pretty consistent in age progression #but 8 year old Dick Grayson actually sacrifices JASON’S timeline more than Tim’s #timeline shenanigans

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abbysmadnessobsession · 3 months

Text

How did it end...?

Two: fighting, toxic relationship, cheating accusations, NOT PROOFREAD

matt : M

Y/n : Y/y

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It was like she was walking in circles like she was lost, she never thought he would cheat on her, not like this.

It was Tuesday July, 9th 2023, and boy have the triplets been busy with all kinds of stuff, blogs, videos,and starting the podcast, which was alot for them.

Matt said he would be home 3 hours ago, and he hasn't been yet, I know what he's doing that shit head.

I storm out to my car driving to his location, and he is at the freehand California hotel.

I've been calling and texting but nothing was there, left on delivered, I've also been messaging my best friend but she hasn't answered either.

What could this mean? They are pulling a prank on me,phone's dead?

Or.

He's cheating with my best friend on me??? Many thoughts race my little head with a big Brain, I can't do this....

I turn on my playlist and my favorite artist comes on, this song was one matt sang to me when I was having a panic attack.

I scream the lyrics crying while hot, real, tears stream down my poor, sad, and heartbroken face,

Finally. ( TIME SKIP! PLAY THIS SONG!) Make sure in the part it says you blast the chorus, you play chorus!

I turn the radio off and I step out the car locking it, and putting my keys in the bag.

I walk up to reception opening the door, that has a little cute jingle

I walk up to the front desk

Excuse me?

Yes dear how may I help

Is a 20 year old man in here with a woman?

Yes they come in about 2 hours ago!

My color drops.

Uhm do you have a key to there room? ( I lie) I'm supposed to meet them here.

Sure Hun here! * She passes me a blue bulk key with the numbers (8.1.4)

I realized what it means..

8 is the month he's born, 1 is the day, and 4 is his lacrosse number ..

Thank you... I say quitely.

I prepare for what I will have to see.

I unlock the door and all I see is them doing some shit I shouldn't of sawn

Uhm.

They turn around freezing and matt comes towards me

Y/n it's not what you think this is...

* my mind just goes blank*

Matt why could you do this

Y/n come on..

I run out crying, I scream when he tries to pick me up from behind shushing me gently to get me to forget my worries,

I kick him in the balls, screaming while I run to my car, I drive off blasting music,

And of course I blast " the SMALLEST MAN WHO EVER LIVED" taylor swift, but I scream the chorus.

I cry so hard I can't even see which direction I'm in, I'm too stressed..

I just feel a bug thump and all I see is my car flying, I just close my eyes not even caring as my car Tumbles down a far, steep, ditch.

I wonder if he will help.

I don't think he will.

..................................................................................

Taglist :

@bortion

@abbysmadnessobsession

@adirtylittleheart

@mattssluttywaist

@sturniolosiphone

@witherwallflower ❤️

THIS TOOK SO LONG DO NOT COME FOR ME IM VERY BUSY!!!!

#Spotify

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veerbles · 7 months

Text

don't mind me, just trying to make a comprehensive timeline of soc/ck

seeing as grishverse is inspired by early 19th century russia, I'll be operating under the assumption that they use the julian calendrer. therefore:

beginning of soc: martius/march ("...the last gasp of winter before spring began in earnest.")

beginning of soc -> djerholm: 2 weeks ("When does[Hringkälla] take place?” / "On the spring equinox.” / “Two weeks from today.")

ice court heist: mid-martius

returning to ketterdam: early-aprillis/april ("It had been just under a week since they’d reached Ketterdam, almost a month since they’d left Djerholm.")

returning/inej's captivity -> rescuing inej: 1 week ("...Van Eck had said he would give them seven days [...] then he would begin torturing Inej. They were almost out of time.")

rescuing inej -> auction: ~1 week (failed sweet reef plan + "...fair auction [...] at the Church of Barter in four days’ time.")

auction: late aprillis-early maius/may

auction -> kaz/inej dock scene: 3 weeks ("In the three weeks since Kuwei’s auction...")

kaz/inej dock scene -> inej threatening pekka: ~1 week ("A month ago he’d been a rich man...")

end of soc: late maius-early lunius/june

overall: the entirety of the duology is around 9 weeks, plus one more week until pekka's epilogue, so 2.5 months total.

BONUS POINTS:

wylan arrived at the barrel three months before the start of soc, in the winter.

kaz and inej steal the dekappel six months before the start of soc.

inej joined the dregs "days after her fifteenth birthday", and since it's implied she'd been with the dregs almost 2 years by the start of soc, we can assume she was born sometime in the spring or summer. she turned 17 either during ck or right after. (EDIT: apparently she's a cancer according to leigh! so she was born in july or late june.)

EXTRA bonus points: using the fact that sailing time from ketterdam to djerholm is stated to be about 10-14 days, we can create a nifty (albeit roughly estimated, disregarding ocean conditions and like, the fact that earth is not actually flat) map of sailing time for all your captain ghafa uses:

ketterdam -> behz ju, shu han: 4-6 days

ketterdam -> os kervo, ravka: 6-7 days

ketterdam -> southern colonies: 6-8 days

ketterdam -> eames chin, novyi zem: 8-10 days

ketterdam -> djerholm, fjerda: 10-14 days

ketterdam -> weddle, novyi zem: 14-16 days

ketterdam -> leflin, wandering isle: 18-20 days

#six of crows #crooked kingdom #grishaverse #am I normal about researching books like a mfing academic paper? no. but it must be done #forever mad we don't know any of the crows' birthdays!!!#analysis

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morganski-19 · 5 months

Text

I Don't Know Which Way's Home

Chapter 16: Relocation

Apparently when I said it would be a few days late, that really meant a week late. But I'm back now.

ao3 link, Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8, Part 9, Part 10, Part 11, Part 12, Part 13, Part 14, Part 15

Present Day, March 1987

Julie wakes up in the middle of the night. Heart racing just a bit, slowing as she readjusts. The memories from last night replay in her mind. It’s all she thinks about. Well, not all.

It’s stupid to even compare these two things. Stupid to have herself thrown back six months and feel the same way all over again. It was the last time she was thrown out of her home unexpectantly. Even if it doesn’t feel like it, it wasn’t that long ago. Her life was uprooted not that long ago.

When her mom died, and she had to move, it felt kind of like this. With a lot more tears, and a lot more pain. But the questions without answers, the spontaneity of it all. It was the same. Julie didn’t plan for it to happen this way. It just happened.

Things in her life just keep happening. But that’s how life works, isn’t it? Things happen, and no one can control it. And when they try to, it just fails anyway. There’s just a force greater than anyone can imagine making life shit for everyone. Breaking apart families, making them lose people they love.

Julie’s not a religious person. Never was. Her mom wasn’t either, not after getting pregnant. It was hard enough being a single mom, she didn’t need more dirty looks. Especially from ones who were supposed to love everyone no matter their sins. It didn’t feel that way most of the time.

If the force that took Julie’s mom away, kicked her out of her childhood home, then the house that just became home, was really all knowing and good, she didn’t believe it anymore. What about the death that’s happened in this town? Everywhere else? What about Steve? Was it really planned for parents to hate their son like this? Kick him out of his house with a bruise on his cheek. That he won’t tell her anything about.

She needs to know that the bruise isn’t because of her. Because he took her in. She can’t be the reason why he’s hurt. It would be too much. Too much that’s been caused because of her. He’s already moving, got a new job, suing his parents. Julie is the catalyst of it all. Even if she wasn’t the cause.

How much peace would Steve have without her here? How much of a disturbance did she really cause?

When they first met, and she was in that foster home, it was easy to take from him. Steve had so much that he was willing to give. Growing up in the life Julie could have had if the tables were turned. It was easy to take some of what she thought she deserved. But then she learned more about him, about his life there. It wasn’t so easy anymore. Julie started to feel like a burden.

Still feels like a burden. Steve has to hide parts of himself in his own home because of her, even though he’s not doing it very well. He had to move into a place that could accommodate her. Go through all this trouble just to keep her around. Act ten years older than he is.

Steve’s still young. Only three years older than her but acting so much older. Taking in so much responsibility as a twenty-year-old. That’s not normal. He should be out parting, meeting new people, making mistakes and learning from them. Instead, he’s stuck in a nine-to-five and coming home to provide for the sister he didn’t even know about six months ago.

Sometimes he acts more like a parent than he should. Julie doesn’t ask for much, she never really did. But it was easy for Steve to slowly fill the void that her mom left. Even if she didn’t realize she was doing it.

Her therapist has been working her through this. He was the first person who mentioned it, causing Julie to spiral. According to him, it was normal and not something that she had to change that much. Just had to realize that’s what was going on. And to make sure she wasn’t holding Steve to a standard that he couldn’t meet.

Steve wasn’t her mom. She knew that. But it was easy to mix the two up when he’s the one providing for her now. Julie didn’t want to ask for more than he could give. It seems like she might have already done that without even realizing it.

She gets up from the now partially deflated air mattress to head to the kitchen. Get a drink and try to calm her mind. One of the lamps is still on in the living room. Illuminating Steve and Eddie, still asleep. Tangled together.

Julie wants to respect Steve’s boundaries and not ask about it again. Or speculate it. But friends don’t fall asleep next to each other like this. Or act like Eddie did last night. Well, maybe Robin would have. It would have just felt more like a sibling relationship. Theirs’s didn’t. It had something more intimate to it. It was very obviously something more.

Steve just wasn’t ready, and she respected that. He just looked so at peace right now. Compared to the level of stress that he normally looked. Compared to last night. It was all gone right now. Started to dissipate as soon as Eddie got there.

Coming out and telling people about this isn’t easy. She knows that. Really knows it. For the past few weeks anyway. So, she knows that pushing them is a bad idea. Especially with the case and all of the uncertainties that surround their lives right now. Being hidden is sometimes better than being out. Definitely in this town.

With them though, with people they trust. It wouldn’t be a stretch to say that it could work. They were able to share a bed here without anyone saying anything about it. And no one will say anything if they see them sharing it like this. It’s a known secret at this point.

Part of her is telling her that it’s only a secret because of her, though. Because she caused all the uncertainties of their life. It’s probably not true, but it’s how she feels.

El stirs when Julie goes back to the room. The air mattress squeaking when she sits on it.

“Julie,” El whispers in the dark, voice groggy.

“Sorry, went to get some water.”

El nods, propping herself up on her elbow when the air mattress squeaks again when Julie tries to sit down. “Did it deflate? It does that sometimes.”

“Yeah, kinda.”

“We could share my bed if you wanted to. Me and Max do it all the time, there is enough room.” El sits up, fixing the blankets.

Julie’s heartbeat picks up, she’s not sure why. It’s just El, they’re friends. Her and Mary would share a bed when they had sleepovers back in middle school. This is no different from that.

“Uh yeah, sure.”

El scoots over in the bed, making room for Julie. They lay down next to each other. El facing Julie, while Julie lies on her back. Trying not to feel El’s eyes on her. Julie forces her eyes closed and takes a deep breath, trying to feel normal about this. Because it is. This is totally normal. Why is she making this so weird?

“Can I ask you something? And you cannot be mad at me for asking it.” El asks, still whispering.

“Uh, yeah. Sure.” Julie really can’t explain why she’s so nervous by that question.

“Are Steve and Eddie dating?”

Julie turns her head towards El, taking a moment to realize how close they are. “They haven’t told me that they are.”

“But that does not mean they are not? They act like they are dating. Everyone keeps talking about it, it is not a secret. I think they work well together.” El stares at Julie in the dark, making her feel something but she’s not quite sure.

“Yeah, yeah I think they do too. If they are actually together. Like I said, they haven’t told me about it yet. But I do know Steve is seeing someone, just couldn’t tell me who it was. Said it was more complicated than it looked.” Julie can’t explain it, but the words keep pouring out of her mouth without her telling them to. She should have stopped speaking way before she did.

El smiles. “I like it when people from our group start dating. Max says it makes more problems, but I think it is sweet. How they found each other through all of the bad that happened.” She makes a face of realization. “Forget what I said, nothing bad happened. Just meeting each other like normal people do. In school. Yeah, we all met in school.”

“Something bad happened?”

If that’s true, a lot of things would start to make sense. Why Steve jumps every time the light flickers or there’s a loud thud. Sometimes when the thunder hits just right. Why Julie has woken up to what seems like a scream but gets told it was nothing the next morning. Why Eddie or Robin magically shows up in the mornings when they weren’t here the night before. Hovering over Steve, either with a scared look in their eye or checking to make sure he’s ok.

Some of the kids do it to. Have some scars that seem a bit too suspicious. More than just a normal injury.

The weird that has been happening in Hawkins these past four years replay in her mind. Connecting dots as fast as she can, trying to make connections. On the surface, there’s nothing there. Except for the fact that this was a peaceful town before four years ago. Each year continuing to get worse and worse. Until last spring scared out half the town’s population.

After what Julie saw that fourth of July, she knew that something was off. Witnessing people walk to their deaths, knowing that they didn’t go to the mall by choice. There was something weird with Hawkins. Maybe El knew about it too? Maybe they all knew about it?

“Well, yeah, there was an earthquake. And the mall fire before that. Bad things happened.” El turns her head, looking at the ceiling.

“I knew about that, obviously. But that’s not all that happened, right? I mean, none of the surrounding areas felt it, and if the ground cracked, they should have. And the fire, I saw some of the people going there that night.” It feels weird to admit that to someone else. But it gets El to turn her head and look at Julie again. “I couldn’t get them to stop moving.”

El’s brows knit together. “I did not know other people saw them go there.”

“It was really scary. I didn’t know until the next morning, but they were walking to their death. There were some people in the crowd that I knew, so I recognized their names when the missing person reports and the obituaries. No matter what I did, it was like they couldn’t hear me, and just kept walking. Like they were possessed.”

El reaches across the small gap between them and grabs Julie’s hand. Making Julie’s fingers feel colder than they were, as they suddenly fill with warmth. She squeezes Julie’s hand, holding it close. “There was more to that night. More that I cannot tell you. I wish I could, but you are better off not knowing. But I am so sorry that you saw a little bit that was happening. And very happy that it did not get to you too.”

“That what didn’t get to me?” Julie turns on her side, fully facing El.

“It is safer for you not to know. Please trust me. Friends don’t lie.”

There is a seriousness in El’s eyes that ages her five years. Suddenly turning her into a brave soldier, instead of just a kid. Julie’s eyes trace her face, reading the fear mixed with experience resting in her muscles. Molded instead of out of place. This isn’t a new expression for El. Somewhere, that breaks Julie.

“Ok, I believe you,” Julie says, ready to change the subject. To see that look melt off of El’s face, hoping to never see it again. Instead, she yawns.

“It is late, we should go to sleep. There is a lot you probably have to do tomorrow. Or today, what time is it?”

Julie shrugs, not wanting to turn to see the clock on the bedside table. “Didn’t look at it when I got up.”

El releases Julie’s hand, making it feel cold again. She pulls the sheets tight around her. “Goodnight.”

“Night.” Julie’s eyes stay open as El’s close, watching as she starts to fall asleep again. She eventually forces her eyes to close, tries to get sleep to come. It doesn’t. Not for a while at least.

There’s something weird with her, mixed with everything else she was already feeling that night. Part of her knows what it is, but she doesn’t want to admit it.

. . .

When Steve looks in the mirror the next morning, he has to relive the fact that the events of the previous night actually happened. That instead of just a normal night stayed at the Byers, it was because he was kicked out of his childhood home. Not because he left on his own accord. Even if he was the one to slam the door behind him.

Just because he was planning to leave, doesn’t mean he was planning to leave like this. With a nice bruise formed above his cheekbone and dried blood on his lip. Bags filled with the rest of his and Julie’s belongings in the living room. The rest in boxes scattered in different locations. Somethings still left behind. Things he’s never getting back.

His mind races to anything left in his car that could come back to bite him. It’s empty, for the most part. Steve knew that he wouldn’t be able to keep the car, it still had his dad’s name on it. It’s why he couldn’t sell it when he was saving up money. The trunk was empty, the baseball bat that would have certainly raised questions in another location. The glove compartment had nothing in it but snacks and a first aid kit. Normal things. The pictures on his sun visor were gone.

He was safe. Why didn’t he feel safe.

This feeling is something Steve knows more than he should. Adrenaline flooding his veins, making him be alert when he just needs to rest. Constricting his chest, making his breaths short and shallow. Counting in for four does nothing when he can only make it to two before his lungs feel like bursting. His muscles tense at every sound, every movement. Pulling him into the ready position. Ready for the next monster to burst through the wall.

There’s a knock at the door, making him jump. Chest thumping with the fast beat of his heart.

“Steve, sweetie,” Joyce’s voice comes through the door. “Breakfast is ready whenever you are.”

Somehow, that breaks Steve out of the spell he was in, realizing the white of his knuckles as they gripped the sink. He lets go, feeling relief. “Ok, I’ll be out in a second.”

He forces a deep breath into his lungs, shutting his eyes so he can’t see his reflection again. Things need to happen today. He needed to get things done today. The Byers are kind enough not to kick them out, but he can’t expect them to let them stay for more than a day or two.

Tomorrow Sarah is going to tell her higherups that they were kicked out. Let them decide if Julie needs to be moved again. Strip away the home that they’ve been building for the past few months. Making Steve have to start over all over again. He can’t start over again.

So these feelings, this churn in his stomach, they can’t stay. After the door closes behind him, so does the chest holding everything in. There will be a time where he can process all that happened, why he’s feeling like this. But now is not that time.

Maybe never will be the time.

When Steve sits down at the table, he’s hyperaware on the way he’s acting. Making sure his posture is the same as it always is. Unbothered, relaxed. When nothing is relaxed. He smiles at Joyce when she brings him a plate, thanking her. Makes conversation with them, greets Will when he gets back from Mike’s. Acts perfectly normal. To most of them at least.

Julie stares at him from a few spots down. Waiting for him to mention anything from the previous night. Eddie reaches under the table to squeeze his thigh, silently asking if he’s alright. Steve brushes it off, insisting that he’s fine.

Because he is fine, why wouldn’t he be?

After breakfast he makes some calls. Somehow, the papers were filed faster than he thought and he’s able to pick up the keys tomorrow morning. Just in time. He changes his contact information with a few places, making a mental note to do it at work his next shift.

Then, he just sits. Feeling unfamiliar in his body. Trying so hard to release the tension that feels sewn into his muscles. Wondering if he breathes deep enough, it will pressure his heart to stop jumping at every motion. Every sound. Stop his mind from racing between synapses without purpose. Snapping to snapshots of moments he’d rather not remember.

The face of his father as he yelled. The disappointment in his mother’s glare. The pain in both their smiles, perfectly molded for photographs. But one look in real life shows the cracks in their composure. They never smiled at him with true intentions, just to keep up the mask.

Memories he’s repressed all come flooding back. Screams of his parents fighting. Hands sore from how hard they clutch his knees to his chest. Hiding away, thinking that it would stop them. That if he went far enough away, he wouldn’t hear them anymore.

That was accomplished. He finally ran away. Somewhere not that far, but they won’t care enough to come find. He should be happy.

Every time Steve thinks that his parents don’t have any hold of him anymore, something happens. Smacks him just right across the face as a little reminder that he is nothing more than a product of them. Something for them to sculp into the perfect accessory. To look at but never really love.

It hurts. Scars on the outside are gruesome, but it is the ones lashed into his heart that sting. Dark in the night, when the silence creeps into his ears, reminding him of every wrong he’s ever done. Of the disappointment that he truly is.

Robin said something to him once that made him put things into perspective. Life is what changes people, makes them who they really are. It is the people that choose to stay that make the impact. The deciding factor. Back then, those words made him feel some sort of peace.

Now, it’s pulling him down to the same question that’s plagued his mind for years. Maybe his entire life. Why wasn’t he enough for them to stay?

Why is he enough for anyone to stay?

Sometime later, he’s not exactly sure, Eddie moves from beside him. Standing in front of Steve with his hand outstretched, waiting for him to take it.

“Come on,” he says. “Let’s go for a walk.”

Steve takes it, gripping it harder than he should. The familiarity giving him some peace of mind. Making the train stop in its tracks for a moment. Before it starts moving again.

“Woods or street?” Eddie asks when they get outside.

“Woods,” Steve finds himself saying. He won’t have to let go of Eddie’s hand if they are in the woods.

Eddie nods, leading Steve around the house and into the woods. Walking forward without direction. The same way he walked straight into Steve’s heart. Nothing was planned, it just happened. Even when Steve does plan things, it doesn’t stop anything else from happening.

“You want to tell me what’s been keeping you in your head all day?”

Steve knows that he doesn’t mean it to be pushy, but the words come off that way. No matter how softly they are said. Steve just shakes his head no.

Eddie nods again, letting them walk in silence. Just keep walking.

So many things have happened in these woods. Fights, searches. Life. Growth. In some ways, everything started here for Steve. One event that took place in these woods changing the course of his life forever. For the better, he says most of the time. But was it really for the better?

If it weren’t for monsters lurking in these woods, Steve would be the person he was four years ago. Young and stupid. Not knowing much about the world around him, but that didn’t matter. His brain was healthy, his ears worked right, and his eyesight wasn’t as blurry. His mind was anxious about normal things, like college, and grades, rather than something lurking the dark ready to kill him. Take the people he loves away from him. It never happened directly to him, yet he still feared it.

His torso wasn’t littered with scars that made him wince when he looked at himself in the mirror. There wouldn’t be a scar around his neck that made people do a double take. Blood wouldn’t rush at the flickers of lights and clashes of thunder. He would be able to enjoy looking at fireworks again, or a roaring campfire.

Life would be simpler. It would be different. Maybe then, he would have gotten into college. Made his dad proud for once. Be on the path to greatness just like he was supposed to. With a sports scholarship under his belt that he didn’t really need, but it didn’t hurt.

Maybe then he would have finally been enough.

A tear rolls down Steve’s cheek without him realizing it. Years of unprocessed trauma resting behind the gates. No matter how many tears were shed, it’s never enough to heal the wounds. All of his wounds.

At the end of all of it, Steve’s tired. Tired of the what ifs and endless possibilities. Tired of fighting with everything including his own thoughts. Beating back self-deprecation until it fights back enough to knock him out for a while. Wondering what life could have been if he walked away when he had the chance. He’s the only one who was ever really given that chance.

The kids lost their friend, so did Nancy. Joyce lost a son. Jonathan lost a brother. Hopper had a job to do. Max, even if she had a choice in the beginning, would have always been wrapped up into this because of Billy. Robin just wanted to help Steve and Dustin solve a puzzle. Eddie saw people die before his eyes. El was made for this.

Steve, he had a choice to make. Leave or go back into the house and fight for something that was worth it. Somehow, Steve always ends up fighting. Did he really want to this time? The damage was done, he didn’t want their money. What was the point of all of this really? To settle some score? Prove who the bigger man was?

Eddie stops them when they get to a small clearing, pulling Steve into a hug. Holding him close with a deep breath, making Steve do the same.

“I don’t know what your head’s been telling you, but you should know it’s not true. Whatever it is.”

Steve sighs. “I’m just so tired. I don’t even know why I’m fighting with them anymore.”

There’s a rustle a few feet away, paired with whispered swears. Robin comes into view, half tripping over a stray branch. “You guys really had to go wandering through the woods with nothing to communicate with. And you couldn’t have waited for me to get there first.”

Steve snorts. “I didn’t even know you were coming over.”

She walks over to them. “Yeah well, when your best friend gets kicked out, says he’ll call you the next morning, and then doesn’t, you start to worry. Your head being a bitch to you again?”

“Sort of.”

“Alright then, make room for me in this hug. Don’t make it weird, please.” She forces her way underneath Steve and Eddie’s arms to hug the both of them. Making a sort of triangle. Steve’s suddenly really glad that she’s here.

A breath releases from Steve. One filled with relief. Finally releasing the band around his chest. More tears sneak out of his eyes as his body finally relaxes. The adrenaline fading, reality sinking in. Weight returning to where it rests on his shoulders. The expected freedom is nowhere to be seen.

The reality is crushing him.

A choked sob causes Eddie and Robin to hold him tighter. As tight as they can in this configuration. Steve doesn’t know what he did to deserve these two. Doesn’t know how he got them to stay. But as everything came crashing down around him, they’re still here. He has barely anything to his name. Just a small house with a large loan, a shitty retail job, and a whole bunch of traumas that follows him around. But instead of running, they’re still here. They stayed with him.

Somehow, Steve is now on the ground. Wiping away tears as Robin rubs his back. As Eddie holds his hand. He feels the need to apologize but knows that they’ll yell at him for it. Still, the words rest on his tongue. But he stays silent, focusing on his breathing. Calming himself down.

“Feel better?” Robin asks softly. “It looked like the floodgates were pushed open.”

Steve lets out a wet laugh. “They kind of did. I think everything just came out at once.”

“Yeah, well, you went through a lot yesterday.” Eddie rakes a hand through Steve’s hair, getting it out of his face. “It has to come out somehow.”

Robin makes a small gasp. Probably finally seeing Steve’s face unobstructed. She looks towards Eddie, getting confirmation with a small nod. “Is there anything you wanted to talk about in particular, or none of it at all? Want me to tell you about something random just so your mind can shut up?”

“I feel.” Steve pauses to find the words. “I feel like I’m always fighting. Whether it’s the upside down shit, or myself, or my parents, it’s always a fight. I kind of just want to stop it all. And this case, it’s solid but is it worth it if I’m just going to feel like shit all over again?”

“This was always because you wanted to do it, but if you don’t want to do it anymore, you don’t have to,” Robin assures.

Steve picks at the grass. “I don’t know anymore.”

“You can always think about it. There’s time to back out of this, the court date hasn’t even been set yet.” Eddie shifts to sit next to Steve, wrapping an arm around his back.

Robin sits on the other side of him, leaning against his side. “Yeah. Fight, no fight. You still got us to go through it with you. Just take one step at a time.”

“My next step is finding beds for us to sleep in. I get the keys tomorrow and we need to move in kind of immediately.”

“Trip to the thrift store,” Robin gasps. “I love the thrift store.”

“Which one, the one on Mulberry next to the Laundromat or center of town?” Eddie asks.

Robin fake gags. “Not the one on Mulberry, the owner creeps me out. The one in the center of town, it has really good stuff.”

“Yeah, only after you search for four hours,” Steve snorts. “How long did it take you to find, ‘the right sweater,’” he mimics.

“That’s irrelevant. Seriously though, are we going? It might not have the best stuff, but you won’t be sleeping on air mattresses.”

“Maybe in a bit. I just want to sit here for a while longer.”

Eddie presses a kiss to the side of Steve’s head. “As long as you need.”

Steve kind of wishes that they could stay there for the rest of the day. Hidden from the rest of the world by the trees, listening to the calmness around them. But he has things to do. He doesn’t have to do them alone this time.

. . .

The next morning, Steve and Eddie are gone when Julie wakes up. Joyce says they have to go pick up some things and will be back around lunchtime. When they come back, everyone gets into their cars to go pick up some boxes. Boxes from the Byers’, Henderson’s, Munson’s and Buckley’s all being loaded into cars and brought over to the knew house.

Their new house.

Julie sees all the madness happening around her, as the boxes get brought and placed on the mismatched furniture Steve scrambled to get yesterday and this morning. Wondering if moving is always like this. Bare walls and empty rooms. Nothing but belongings packed in boxes and empty dressers, cabinets, drawers. All waiting to be filled. Waiting for a house to be made into a home.

Moving was something Julie never experienced until a year ago. And it wasn’t happy then. Just a reminder that she had to leave the place she grew up in without a choice. Without the person who always made her feel safe. It was all stripped away too soon.

Then the next place that gave her a bed to sleep in was terrible. Making sleeping on a park bench in the cold much better than sleeping in a bed. Until Steve offered for her to stay, and she took it. Finding something that could resemble the home she once knew. It was close, but never just quite right.

This place, it was everything that her mom ever wanted. The purpose of fruitless savings jars. Counting every penny from tips and saving everything that they didn’t need for bills. Only for it to get lost anyway, either from her mom’s vices or her boyfriend stealing it all.

But here, now, it’s almost like Julie can still feel her mom’s presence in this house. Feel a presence watching her every move. Smiling as the room slowly becomes hers. As this place becomes Julie’s knew home. It doesn’t feel so empty anymore.

Maybe this is how it’s always going to be from now on. The little twinge in her heart making her think of her mom. See her in all the little things around her. Making it all feel bittersweet. She’s still here, even if it’s not in the same house they lived in. Even if she isn’t here anymore. Julie will always have her mom.

Unpacking is chaotic. There’re too many people and everyone keeps putting things away without asking where either of them wants them. Just to get them out of the boxes. That won’t make it easier when they have to rearrange everything later. But things are better sitting inside of cabinets so they can use the counters to place more boxes. Things have to move so they don’t get stuck.

Luckily for her, Julie can just focus on her room. Steve found an old bedframe at a thrift store that got set up in her room and an old dresser that squeaks when you open the drawers, if they open at all. It’s fine for now, and it can be fixed. A lot of these things can be fixed. The only new thing in her room is the mattress, because apparently Robin insisted that they get a new one because of all the bugs that can live in there.

El’s there helping her unpack. Brought a few things for some decorations too since Julie lost some of the decorations in her room. For the second time now. But now there’s some photos on the wall of the group together, and a few movie and band posters. It’s not quite right yet, but it’s getting there.

A few hours later, the Byers’ leave, and Steve and Eddie go get some pizza. Leaving Julie and Robin to unpack the last of the boxes and set up a folding table and some chairs for them to eat on.

“Could I ask you a weird question?” There’s been something gnawing in Julie’s mind for a few days now, making her feel weird. Something she really doesn’t know how to put into words or ask Steve about. But Robin would know.

“Yeah sure,” Robin says while snapping open a folding chair.

Julie picks at the skin around her thumbs. “How did you know you were a lesbian? Like, that you liked girls?”

Robin freezes in shock, before relaxing with a small smile. “I’d say this is a couch kind of conversation, but we don’t have one yet, so how about the floor?”

“Floor’s fine.”

They sit down in the makeshift pile of pillows and blankets that’s acting as a couch. Julie staring down at her hands, nervous. She’s been feeling weird for a while now, and kind of knows why. But there are questions she can’t answer. Feelings she doesn’t want to believe are true.

“So, to answer your question, I think a part of me always knew I liked girls. When I was really young, I might have not realized that is what it was. And when all the other girls were talking about their crushes in elementary and middle school, I would just think they were so weird because boys were gross. I didn’t like boys the way that they liked boys. It wasn’t until middle school that I realized that I thought about girls the way other girls thought about boys.”

“Oh,” is all Julie can say.

Robin nods. “Yeah, that’s kinda when all the pieces clicked into place. After that, it was the denial and the trying to get it away. Act like everyone else did. But it never went away. I kept getting crushes on girls and was a total mess around them. Over time, I accepted it. Embraced it. As much as I could in this town. Now, I’m really proud of the person I am and have an amazing girlfriend. It’s who I am.”

“And you never felt weird about any of it? Like, something was different, and you just couldn’t figure out what it was.”

She remembers the feeling that she had two nights ago. When her and El talked in the middle of the night. How things just kept happening, and she felt so weird. Something was off.

Some of the things Robin said were true. Julie never really had a crush on any boys. On anyone, really. Sometimes, she would lie and just say she had a crush on a random guy in her class. Just to fake normalcy. When really, none of the boys ever caught her eye. What did, she never said aloud.

But it was a trend that she couldn’t ignore anymore. How girls would walk down the hall and Julie would find herself turning her head. Lying and just saying she liked their outfit. It wasn’t wrong, but it wasn’t exactly the truth. And then there would be the continuous thoughts of someone in her class that would never go away. No matter how hard she tried. And she tried. So hard.

Julie was already the daughter of a single mother that drank her problems instead of dealing with them. No father, no money, nothing. She didn’t need to be the weird kid that liked girls too. So she wasn’t. Until she was.

The pieces clicked, just like Robin said they did. They did a while ago. But like a lot of things, Julie pushed them away to be dealt with later. There was so much more to worry about. Get angry about. She didn’t need to get angry at herself too.

Looking back now, Julie did have crushes. Ones that didn’t make much sense in her young mind, or ones that she just shoved off thinking it was jealousy. It was easier to pretend it didn’t exist rather than face the music. But when asked if she had a crush on someone, it was always a girl’s name that rested on the tip of her tongue that she swallowed down and forgot.

Robin lets out a small laugh. “All the damn time. I think mainly before I accepted it all.” After a break of silence, Robin asks, “Are you feeling a bit weird?”

Julie nods, pulling her knees close to her chest. “For a while now. But my life was so full of so many other things that it was easy for me to ignore it. It’s not so easy to ignore anymore.”

“Yeah, I know what you mean,” Robin sighs.

“And I just,” Julie struggles to find the words. “If what I’m feeling is what I think it is, I just don’t want to screw up what I have.”

Robin takes a deep breath. “Did Steve ever tell you how we became friends?”

Julie shakes her head.

“Well, the story is really long and complicated, and there’s things that I can’t really share. But the short of it all is that we worked together at an ice cream shop called Scoops Ahoy back when the mall was still standing.”

“I remember that place, those outfits were terrible.”

Robin laughs. “Yeah, they were. But that’s how we met. We really became friends while hiding out in a bathroom and I told him I had a crush on a girl named Tammy Thompson. It was the scariest thing I’ve ever done. I didn’t know how he was going to react, especially since it was also a rejection. But he took it like a champ and made me feel comfortable with someone knowing this big secret I’ve kept for years. And now he’s my best friend, and I wouldn’t change a thing.”

“Was it hard?”

“It was and it wasn’t. Telling anyone in this town about being queer is hard, because you don’t really know how they’re going to react. Hell, most of the town has Reagan signs out on their lawns. So that made it hard. But it was also really easy. The thing about Steve is he’s really caring and accepting about the people he cares about. He wasn’t always, at least it didn’t seem like it. But somehow, he grew up and became the person we both know and love. He might joke and be bitchy sometimes, but deep down, he cares more than he’d like to admit.”

Julie smiles. “Yeah, I know.”

“There were a few other people that were easy to tell too,” Robin continues. “Eddie, obviously. You and Dustin in the car. And Nancy, which was harder for a different reason.”

Julie stays quiet, patiently listening.

“It was different with Nancy because I had the worst, biggest, ginormous crush on her when I told her. I needed to know that she was ok with this part of me before I could even think of telling her about it. It was just as scary as you think it was. But after those words left my mouth, Nancy just smiled and gave me a hug, and the biggest weight was off my chest. Few months later, I had the courage to tell her how I really felt, and then we started dating.”

“You guys were friends before you started dating right?”

Robin nods. “I was so scared that she wouldn’t like me back, and I would ruin everything.”

Julie nods, letting the words sink in. She’s not alone in this. “I’m kind of there right now, I think. Actually, I’m not really sure. Just. Something happened and it made me feel really weird, but I can’t tell if it’s because of the other things happening in my life or if it is a crush.”

“And this crush, if that is what it is, is that about a girl?” Robin asks softly. “You don’t have to tell me, of course. Only if you want to.”

She takes a second before nodding. “Yeah,” Julie whispers. “Yeah, it’s about a girl.”

Saying it out loud makes it all real. Heart dropping to her stomach as her breathing increases. This was real. She was like this. Nerves fill her, making her want to cry. Some part out of relief, the rest out of panic. There was no coming back from it now.

Robin notices her change in demeanor, scooting closer and placing a hand on Julie’s shoulder.

“Fuck,” Julie whispers into her knees.

“Yeah, that’s kind of how it went for me too.”

Tears start to well up in Julie’s eyes. Today’s already been a lot, now this. She feels arms wrap around her, holding her together. If Robin can do this, like girls and be happy, Julie can too. It’s just so much right now.

The keys jingle in the door before it creaks open. Julie pulls her head out of her knees and wipes her eyes. Robin shifts a little away from her. Both of them trying to act normal.

“Pizza’s here,” Steve says as he places it on the makeshift kitchen table. He looks at Julie, before turning his head to Robin. Julie doesn’t know what she does, but Steve just nods and doesn’t say anything.

That night, Julie sleeps in her new room. The unfamiliarity of it all freaking her out a bit. She’ll get used to it eventually.

The confession from earlier still weighs in her mind. Only one face finding her mind when she closes her eyes.

. . .

March 1986

In the middle of the night, the trailer starts rattling. Glasses clanking together in the kitchen, books falling off of Julie’s shelves. A large clash comes from the living room, followed by a string of loud swears. Julie jumps out of bed, stumbling down the hall. The floor shaking beneath her feet.

This has never happened before. Sure, the trailer sometimes shook during a thunderstorm. But never like this. This was so different.

“Mom,” she calls out.

Her mom stands from the floor. “Stay right there. Don’t move.”

Julie looks at the kitchen, glass covering the floor. The living room is a mess, tv lying flat on the floor, decorations fallen off of tables and shelves. Rebecca pulls Julie into the bathroom, holding her under the doorway.

“What’s going on?” Julie asks frantically.

“I don’t know,” her mom responds. Trying to stay calm but the fear can’t be hidden in her words.

Just as it started, everything stops. An eerie silence fills the trailer for a few minutes. Until doors start to open, and screams come from outside. Rebecca grabs a flashlight and puts on her shoes.

“Stay in here ok, we don’t know what’s going on outside.” She leaves Julie alone in the trailer.

Julie’s heart thumps in her chest as she tries to control her breathing. What just happened? An earthquake? There were almost never earthquakes here. And if there were, it was just the remnants of one from farther away. What could have shaken the trailer so hard it forced cabinets open and made a mess of the floor.

Stepping carefully, Julie heads to the front door to put on her shoes. So, she doesn’t accidentally step on some glass. Stepping on the couch, she opens the window to look outside. Gasping at the scene in front of her.

The earth was split in a mound of broken gravel and dirt that seemed to spread for miles. Trailers split in two, dead being pulled out of the rubble. People frantically rushing around, trying to grab what they can and help who needs it. Sirens blare in the distance, some speeding right past the trailer park, some pulling in. Ambulances filled one after the other and more pass in both directions on the main street.

Julie opens the door and steps on to the creaky porch. More of the boards broken than normal.

“Max,” Mrs. Mayfield screams into the night. “Max, where are you?”

Julie sees her mom run over to her. “Susan. Susan, calm down.”

“I don’t know where she is.”

Julie hasn’t seen Max in days. Having left with some friends to hang out with over the break. She hasn’t been here. Unless she was part of the group that stole that RV. Julie could have sworn it was her.

Rebecca brings Susan into the house, ushering Julie back inside. Somehow makes some tea in the kitchen. Using one of the few mugs that don’t have cracks in them. Trying to keep calm away from the chaos happening outside.

In the morning, the news stories flood in. Streets split down the middle with destruction. Half of the houses pristine while the others are unrecognizable. All meeting at the town hall, marking the town with an “X”. Warning all who enter.

Then the people start to leave. Those without homes, those with. All packing up their minivans and cars with what they deem most important. Leaving the rest to be labeled as abandoned. The high school becomes a shelter. Full of donations and people the hospital doesn’t have a bed for.

Explanations are given but they don’t answer questions. People are found while others stay missing. First responders search through rubble, slowly crossing names off a list. The graveyards get their new residents by the dozen.

Hawkins becomes something of a ghost town.

Tag list(let me know if you want to be added or removed): @homoerotictangerine, @mugloversonly, @thesuninyaface, @imyelenasexual, @anaibis, @ilovecupcakesandtea, @brainsteddielyrotted, @jackiemonroe5512, @eddie-munsons-missing-nipple, @goodolefashionedloverboi, @cinnamon-mushroomabomination, @lolawonsstuff, @writingandmushroomdragons, @stevesbipanic, @sierra-violet, @steddie-as-they-go, @dauntlessdiva, @mousedetective, @the-daydreamer-in-the-corner, @zombiethingy, @connected-dots-st-reblogger, @that-agender-from-pluto, @allyricas, @cheddartreets, @devondespresso, @crypticcorvidinacottage, @queenie-ofthe-void @chronicpainstevetruther,

#stranger things #stranger things au #steve harrington #eddie munson #robin buckley #julie lawson #el hopper #joyce byers #steddie #long lost/secret sibling #secret sibling au #i don't know which ways home fic

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belmottetower · 1 year

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just one more question, promise!! this isn't so much me wanting info as it is wanting your opinion. how do you think jamie's loan came about? he made it to the first team but he wasn't good enough to get regular minutes yet, is what they said iirc. was he the one who pushed for a loan? do you think he was struggling with "dominating" or did that only happen at richmond with the gaffer pushing him to be the star? just interested in hearing your thoughts

Fun question! Let's start with the facts. Much like player sales, player loans can only happen during the transfer window - the period of time when it’s agreed teams can conduct business of adding players to their roster. These happen twice a year. The main one is in the summer, usually from mid June after the season ends, until the end of August. And then there is a shorter one in the middle of season, from 1 - 31 January. The summer transfer window starts during the off-season and extends into the beginning of the season - this is how Richmond was able to sign Zava in the first few weeks of the season. (When Jamie signs with Richmond at the start of season 2, it’s October, and that’s outside the transfer window BUT Jamie is also a free agent. He has no contract with another club. Teams can sign free agents at any time.)

Ted Lasso season 1 begins in early January 2020, so during the January transfer window. Jamie’s loan would have been agreed upon either the summer before the start of the 2019/2020 football season, or a few days before Ted joins Richmond in the winter transfer window. Given how settled he seems with the team, I think it’s pretty safe to say Jamie's loan started in the summer of 2019, six months before Ted came, and that he arrived in the same transfer window as Sam and Dani. This is Sam’s first season in the Premier League and he’s been there long enough for his stats to drop, so more than a couple of weeks, ergo, he came in the summer, and Dani is said to have arrived in the summer transfer window and immediately gotten injured. Jamie didn’t seem to know Dani at all when he arrived in 1.06, so it could be that Dani came to the UK in July and got injured in preseason training before Jamie arrived at Richmond. This would imply that Jamie’s loan was decided late in the transfer window, maybe in August, right as the season was about to get underway.

There is the slight possibility that Jamie’s loan was longer than a single year and that he actually arrived at Richmond in the summer of 2018, or the January of 2019. I don’t actually believe this is the case, mainly because Jamie had not attended the For The Children gala before - the one in 1.04, February 2020, was his first time, and he would have been present for the February 2019 one if he’d been at Richmond earlier. I also think if Jamie had been at Richmond for 12 or 18 months by the time Ted arrived, the vibe would be different between him and Roy - their tension is still fresh enough for it to have only been a few months. The main reason I am bringing up the possibility of a longer loan is just to say that they theoretically can happen. They aren’t a strict one-year thing.

As for the personal circumstances… I don’t think Jamie would have pushed for it. City was always his team growing up, and going through the Academy I think he would have always wanted to stay with City. But City has such a deep squad. They have players who would be starting every single game if they played at another club sitting on the bench week after week, just because of how talented the whole team is. They have more talent than they can use.

There’s actually a situation happening right now at City with Cole Palmer. He's one of their former academy players who is now 21, and he was called up to the senior team a few years ago. He has been training with them and getting some minutes, but just not enough time on the pitch to keep developing. He’s played in 28 first team matches across all competitions since 2020, he hasn’t started most of them, and to give some context, City played 61 matches across all competitions JUST THIS SEASON. He’s had very little game time in the past 3 seasons. City don't want to sell him, they see him as an academy success story, so the rumour is that now the summer transfer window is open, they’re going to send him away on loan so he can get good minutes and get more confidence and experience, and then at the end of the 2023/24 season, the club will reassess and maybe recall him to the main team, or maybe loan him for longer.

I think it’ll have been a similar situation with Jamie. They couldn’t give him the minutes he needed but they didn’t want to sell him, so they sent him on loan to a club where he’d start every match, get a lot of minutes and develop more, then bring him home. But a couple of things make this a bit unusual for Jamie in terms of football realism:

1) His age. 23 is very old for a loan from City. Even if he was 22 when it started, that’s still old. Cole’s only just turned 21 and his situation, of actually being called up to the senior squad and then loaned, is one that I haven’t seen happen in a while at City - while Ted Lasso was airing, there weren’t any players in that situation, so this is a brand new comparison I can now make for Jamie, and Cole is still a fair bit younger than Jamie would have been. The fact that Jamie was loaned out when he was almost 23 means that he was either lingering on the City senior team bench for YEARS, or that he was a bit of a late bloomer - that he actually hadn’t been called up to the senior squad very often, and he was one of the older players on City’s Elite Development Squad (the reserve team of young pro players, I wrote about them in the first answer) until he was about 21. If you click there, you’ll see quite a number of EDS squad are on loan. This is far more common than loaning out players who have already been called up to the senior squad.

2) The fact he was loaned to another Premier League team. This is rare and weird for City, usually they send loanees to a lower league or to another country. Some Premier League teams DO loan to other Prem teams, but City doesn’t tend to, so this is something they fudged for the sake of the show. Important note about this: if you ever write a season 1 canon divergent fic where Jamie does NOT get sent back to Man City in 1.06, he could not play for Richmond against Man City in that final match of the season. Players on loan cannot play against their parent club - Jamie would have had to watch that match as a spectator. He could not have sat on the bench or been in the dressing room or anything, he would have literally not been allowed to be a part of the Richmond team in any way. (I included this situation in my season 1 do-over fic “jeff bridges.”)

A bit more on the age thing - sometimes, a really stunning young teenage player will be called up to the senior team almost immediately after signing their pro contract. The best real life example of this for Man City is Phil Foden. He’s a local Manchester lad, an academy product called up to the senior side when he was only 17. He didn’t always play that much, but he was never loaned out. Over the years, Pep Guardiola was criticised by some for not loaning him, pundits said Foden should demand a loan. But Pep wanted to keep him close and oversee his training development himself - he thought he was the most talented young player he had ever seen and the future of Man City. Over the years Foden rose through the ranks and started becoming a starter and a main part of the squad, and also the England squad - he debuted for England at 20. He’s just turned 23 and he is now seen as a main player, an established regular City star and Pep is now in a similar situation with Rico Lewis, a defender who went from captaining City’s Under 18 team in the 2021–22 season to being called up to the senior team in August 2022. Rico is also not going to be loaned, he is going to be kept close.

But this Magical Teenager Thing was very much NOT how the show portrayed Jamie’s story. The show acts like Jamie is an inexperienced youngster on the rise at 23, not an established superstar with six years of Premier League glory like Foden. It’s kind of unusual that at 23, Jamie still wasn’t getting enough minutes to get experience and yet City still wanted to retain him. By 23, the club really should have made a decision about keeping him or selling him. So this is what makes me think that he’d been playing a major role in the EDS team til he aged out of it, and only had a short time on the senior side - maybe one season, when he was 21 turning 22 - before his loan to Richmond.

There is a world in which Jamie WAS a teenage rising star who was getting the Phil Foden treatment - being kept around the first team by Pep but not playing games - and that after several years of that, he did actually request a loan so that he could play more. But I just find it really hard to imagine that he was lingering unused on the first team for 5 years. Jamie seemed to think Richmond was really shit - tragic he called them, he clearly thought he was above it and didn’t want to be there. That doesn’t fit for me with Jamie requesting a loan. But it’s possible he requested one and expected to be sent to a team in Germany or something and instead got Richmond. If someone wanted to write a fic in which he requested a loan, there would be specific ways to make it plausible, but it’s just not how I see it going.

Side note: I like to imagine that most real footballers are also in the Ted Lasso universe, especially as people like Pep and Southgate and Marcus Rashford are real, but Phil Foden is one of the players that I DON’T include as existing in the Ted universe, because his story of being that young superstar, even younger than Jamie, who Pep wanted to keep close, makes Jamie’s story so angsty in comparison - Jamie not making the same progress in the team as Foden, Jamie getting loaned when Foden wasn’t. Phil Foden would be, as @scoatneyhall likes to put it, a stick that James would use to beat Jamie with, and that’s not the kind of angst I enjoy, and Man City also didn’t have another local lad on the team at the time, it doesn’t quite track logistically. So for me, Jamie replaces Foden as the Man City Academy Product retained by City. (I also don’t think Jack Grealish exists in Ted world, sorry! Jamie is styled too closely on Jack, with the hair and with the low socks and shin pads. And Jamie is an original, he wants to be known for himself. He would never copy the famous style of another, more established player who was currently playing in the same league. He would never want to be known as a Grealish copycat, ergo, Jack does not exist in the same universe as Jamie.)

Re: Jamie “dominating” - given that it's the real Pep who was City’s manager on the show, I just can’t imagine this having happened on the City senior squad. Jamie could have been a leader and a star player on his EDS team, but a bad attitude would have counted against him, and with Pep on the City first team, it’s very much a no egos allowed zone. Jamie would have been a small fish in a big pond and whether he liked it or not, he would have had to be a team player in order to get to play at all. He would not have gotten away with acting like a prick to people off the pitch and he would not have succeeded in getting more minutes if he acted like a selfish player at City. He could have tried to prove himself and “dominate,” and be responsible for great solo goals, but he probably would have gotten in trouble for it - Pep does not offer players a lot of freedom to take control of the game. He has a system, he wants them to do exactly what he’s planned and stay exactly where he’s told them to go.

City already play a version of Total Football, and what I think was happening is that James was “backseat driving” Jamie and telling him what he should do and how he should play, with no actual understanding of professional football or of how Pep specifically was playing the game. We talk about Jamie's history with Pep and Total Football on Subjectify, in our conversation review of episode 3.07, but Pep uses a really high rotation of players and I just think that James was in Jamie’s ear saying stuff that was stupid and uneducated in terms of City’s actual tactics. It could be that Jamie didn’t fully love or understand Pep’s Total Football system either, and he himself wanted to play different football, but given that he’s the one who explains to everyone that he’s actually NOT best used as a striker but rather as a central attacking midfielder, I think he knew perfectly well that his dad didn’t have a clue what he was talking about, but that his wrong opinions were wearing on him anyway.

I have a personal headcanon as well that someone at club - maybe one of the coaches that had been around him a lot as he worked his way through the academy - saw James start to hang around more after Jamie signed his senior pro contract and could see the impact it was happening on him and they played a role in suggesting the loan, hoping maybe some distance from James would be good. I don’t think Jamie got the loan as “punishment” for being a prick, or not being a good team player - they definitely would have sent him away EXPECTING him to be playing a much more major role at a club that needed him - but I also don’t think he was happy about it, because even if HE understood the reason why it would benefit him in the long run, his dad would act like Jamie had failed to do well enough to earn a place in City’s starting lineup. And Jamie may have felt this way too, even if he had more understanding as to why. We know that Jamie never really agreed with James, he hated his dad’s opinions - James’s commentary on Jamie’s playing was something Jamie was pushing back against, not trying to live up to. But he would still have to agree with the basic assessment of “you’re not good enough to play for City so you’re getting loaned.” That’s the objective truth, there’s just a lot of different ways someone could say that or feel about it. Pep’s approach to that concept will be very different from James’s, and Jamie probably ended up feeling pretty shit about it.

So yes. I think the majority of the issues we see in season 1 with Jamie are because Jamie is bitter about being sent away, about being deemed not good enough to get the minutes with City, and because of how George Cartrick used him at Richmond. In the conversation review I linked above, I said "I see George’s mindset as being so similar to the way James thinks Jamie should act and play. So if you have Jamie feeling resentment over being sent away, and then being managed by George who would have just reinforced every nasty thing James had been saying over the years, it really makes sense why he would act the way he did." He took a young, talented player trained by Pep Guardiola who could operate in a variety of attacking roles but who was used to being a small part of a Total Football team and put him up front by himself as an out and out striker, a classic 9, and used him to coast, basically saying, “this kid is better than all of you, just get the ball to him,” encouraged Jamie to take over, and Jamie was almost forced to lead the team that way and therefore feel responsible for everything they achieved. It's exactly like the formation with Zava in season 3 except that Jamie would not have had the power to request that formation, it would have been thrust upon him.

We talked about this in the conversation review of 3.03, how he had no discipline and how his raw talent was being exploited. And how that situation both fed Jamie’s ego and made him feel VERY stressed about the wins and losses - the thing is, even with Jamie as the team’s best player, Richmond still wasn't doing well! They were mid-table and had lost 3 of the last 4 when Ted arrived. Jamie is struggling with all of this, the losses hit him hard just like they hit Roy hard. It’s one of the things they have in common in season 1 - those two are really angry about the team’s losses and about Ted being hired, far more than the rest of the team. I think the Jamie we meet in season 1 is the worst Jamie has ever been, but I also don't think that he has been acting like that for years on end or anything. I think it's recent. I think the reason he bounces back to having a better attitude so quickly, in the middle of season 1, is because it’s a reversion, a return to his more natural sense of self, even if his ego is very real.

This is a bit all over the place but I hope some of this makes sense or resonates with you!

#jamie tartt #ted lasso meta

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