#all the Black siblings/cousins need anger management classes | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

pidayforpi · 4 years

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Brother’s Sentiment

“Abner...why did you come all the way here?”

“Mr Whitewater Duck, a mail for ya.”

Abner “Whitewater” Duck had never been fond of his family. That’s why he chose to live alone, in a rural small town, instead of the bustling metropolis of Duckburg. He never showed up in any family gathering, nor sent his family a letter or a card. Abner was a loner, and he loved it that way.

The other Ducks had also learned not to disturb their lumberjack relative. They wouldn’t send a letter without a reply letter. They wouldn’t give an invitation only to be rejected or outright ignored. They knew Abner was a loner, and they knew he loved it that way.

But when the local postman handed him a letter sent directly from Duckburg by air, he knew he probably should read it before burning it in the campfire.

“The rich geezer or the broke bloke?” Jay questioned the confused duck. The blue jay bird only knew Scrooge and Donald, the only two relatives to have visited Abner in his faraway town. Abner actually guessed the sender to be one of them. But he was wrong. It was from someone he didn’t know.

“From Hubert and Dewford Duck.”

“Dear Cousin Abner,

Your brother would like to see you. Please come to Duckburg as soon as possible. Meet us at the McDuck Manor.

Love, Your Cousins Huey and Dewey Duck”

“Woo...Someone’s getting high-class...” Jay slyly commented, before receiving a shove from his friend. “Hey! Do you read your clients’ letters?!” Jay let out a chuckle while fixing his postman hat.

“Anyway, it seems like your lil’ bro is dying to meet ya. You should probably go-“ Jay stopped when he noticed the usually loud Abner had gone silent all of a sudden, his eyes covered by the brim of his hat.

“Need me to help send a reply, Whitewater?” Jay quietly uttered, confused and a bit scared by his friend’s unusual meekness. Abner sniffed softly, adjusting his hat with one hand and picking up his axe with another.

“No need. I will give them my reply in person.”

———————————————————

Abner felt like Duckburg hadn’t changed much. Autumn in Duckburg was gloomy as usual, or so he thought. He had not been to the city for half a decade.

Fethry was the only reason for him to go to the city. His younger brother was the only one in the family - and in his social circle - that Abner cared about. Fethry had always been the oddball of the family: He was not as thoughtful as Donald, not as brave as Della, not as lucky as Gladstone, not as helpful as Gus, not as creative as Kildare...

While Donald and Della were out adventuring, Gladstone was non-busily finding $20 notes on the ground, Gus was helping Grandma Duck (and himself) at her bakery, and Kildare was painting the town red (literally)...

Fethry was just lounging by the pond, daydreaming. At the end of a long lumberjack training day, Abner always joined his little brother by the same old pond, watching him look up to the crimson sky, look down to the bottom of the water. The brothers just silently lay down on the ground, until the orange sky faded to black, and Abner held his sibling’s hand as they walked back home under the starry sky.

Abner knew that Fethry, unlike himself, was never a loner. Fethry enjoyed company. Fethry yearned to be recognised. To be appreciated and be of use to others. Yet, being the anomaly of the bunch, talentless and a slow-learner, Fethry had nothing to offer.

“Not even our family give him a place to be in...” That might be one of the reasons Abner never felt the need to bond with his family.

Abner ignored the light mid-autumn rain, and walked down the streets to his uncle’s place with his brown hat covering his head. It was noon in Duckburg, yet the roads seemed lifeless and sad in the shower.

Abner picked up his pace, lest the shower became a downpour. He buttoned up his leather jacket, and hurried to the manor overlooking the city.

(7-3-2020)

———————————————————

“Pst...!Over here, Cousin...err...”

Despite not hearing his name, the voice of a child caught Abner’s attention. He turned to his right, and saw two young ducks hiding next to a bush.

“Dewey, you signed the letter. It’s Cousin Abner.” The duck with a red cap reminded his younger brother, who’s dressed in blue.

“You said it. I ‘signed’ the letter, only.” Dewey retaliated. Huey only rolled his eyes, and motioned Abner to come to them.

“Good afternoon, Cousin Abner. I am Huey Duck, and this is Dewey. Nice to meet you.” The duck in red politely introduced himself and his brother, and bowed his head.

“Yeah...umm...we sent you the letter. Did you...receive it...?” Dewey awkwardly asked while looking at his feet, avoiding Abner’s fierce eye contact.

“Why would I be here, otherwise?” Abner asked sarcastically. Abner would have been shouting at his nephews for their lack of common sense, and somehow attributing it to their city lifestyle.

But not when the two kids were the only clues he had to his little brother.

Dewey sulked after realising his mistake, while Huey swiftly cut in to break the weird atmosphere. “Long story short, Cousin Fethry wanted to see you.”

“...and he’s apparently your little brother...” Added Dewey, face still red with embarrassment.

Abner let out a slight sigh. “Lead me to him then. Will your ‘dear’ Uncle Scrooge give you a limousine ride?”

Dewey quickly put a finger on Abner’s beak with a quiet “shh”. After dramatically looking around like a criminal on the run, Dewey explained to Abner, “Please don’t tell Uncle Scrooge about this visit. Don’t even let him see you, no matter how much you want to meet him.” They obviously knew nothing about Abner.

“Uncle Scrooge doesn’t know about our invitation. He doesn’t even want us to visit Cousin Fethry again.” Huey added, his smile faded.

“Why?” Abner questioned, confused how their loving Uncle Scrooge would separate his family members from one another.

Huey, now grimly held his head down, stated, “Uncle Scrooge didn’t want Cousin Fethry to leave the underwater laboratory.” Abner was shocked, but stayed silent for the duckling to continue.

“Dewey and I visited Cousin Fethry a month ago. We answered his...call. Launchpad took us, without telling Uncle Donald or Scrooge, to the underwater laboratory according to the coordinates Cousin Fethry had given us. Together we went on an adventure to the depth of the ocean.”

“We met his team - which was just a bunch of glowing krill, by the way - and went scuba-diving...above undersea volcanoes! 3000 meters below the sea surface, facing scalding dreams of 400 degree Celsius...Oh, and he told us not to drink seawater. Duh.” Dewey cut in, adding in the details of their adventures, unaware of Abner and Huey’s lack of interest.

“Yes. But after getting back up to the surface, we were...well, caught. Uncle Scrooge was there at the lighthouse, the entrance of the laboratory. We were excited to share with him our adventure, when Uncle Scrooge just urged us into Launchpad’s ship. When Fethry was about to come along, Scrooge...”

Huey paused for a moment, still unable to believe the things he was about to say. “...he hit Fethry with his cane. Hard. And slammed the ship door on him. We left, under the order of Uncle Scrooge, while Cousin Fethry was still on the platform of the lighthouse, holding his right hand in pain.”

“The trip back to land was painfully quiet, but once we were back at the Manor, we couldn’t help but confront Scrooge about his actions.” Dewey said, trembling with anger. “‘He nearly got you lads killed!’ was the only reason Scrooge gave us. When we asked him why Fethry was not allowed to come with us, he just said that doesn’t concern us...”

Dewey bit his lips lightly, whispering just loud enough for Abner to hear. “As if a member of our family being trapped underwater by another member of our family for 4.5 years doesn’t concern us...”

“Fe-Fethry has been there for four...four and a half years...?” Abner’s eyes were wide open, blinking occasionally to hold back tears.

“...Yes. Uncle Scrooge never allowed him to leave the laboratory. Cousin Fethry only survived on fish and self-purified seawater. His only form of communication with the outside world was a tin-can-and-string phone, with one of the cans connected to Scrooge’s office. Cousin Fethry was ignored nonetheless, and we were the first ones to answer his call.” Huey continued.

“And the last call he gave us was about his wish to see you. He gave us the address to your town, and asked us to send a letter to you. That’s why you are here.”

A dead silence followed as the three ducks said nothing for a minute.

Abner eventually broke the silence with a question. “Why would Scrooge want to trap Fethry underseas for four and a half years?” Kildare he might understand, but why Fethry? Why the innocent, naive Fethry Duck?

“I guess you will have to find it out yourself, Cousin.” Dewey answered with a shrug. “Here are the coordinates to the McDuck Sub-lab. Launchpad won’t be able to drive you there, so you might have to hire a boat or swim there.” Dewey took out his phone to show Abner the coordinates. “You want a pen and a piece of paper to write it down?”

Abner took out his own phone, which very much surprised his cousins. “You know, living in the countryside doesn’t mean living in a cave.” Abner showed Dewey his phone number. “Send it to me through SMS.”

(8-3-2020)

———————————————————————————————

“Alrighty.”

Abner quickly searched the location of the coordinates. It really was in the middle of the ocean.

“May I ask...how would you plan to go there?” Huey asked, prompting Abner to look up from his phone. “Uncle Donald probably knows a few sailors...Probably.”

“I can manage it.” Abner said, picking up his brown leather bag.

“What’s that?” Dewey pointed at Abner’s belonging curiously.

“Oh.” Abner opened the zip and pulled out his trusty axe, holding it by the wooden handle. Its iron blade gleaming in the dim light. “You mean this?”

“Eek-!” Dewey literally jumped onto Huey, prompting the older brother to catch the duckling in his arms. The trembling duck in blue cried out for the only hero he knew. “Gizmoduck! Help!”

“Hey, you asked for it...” Abner tried to calm his cousin down, albeit still holding the axe in his grasp. He was trying to refer to Dewey asking for him to display his axe, but he was not the best with words.

“No———! I did not! Back off!” Dewey tried to move backwards, which nearly threw Huey off balance. “Gizmoduck———!”

“Hey! Keep it down. Didn’t you say not to alert anyon-“ Abner was interrupted when he heard rapid footsteps approaching them. Abner tried to hide himself, but a battle cry signalled him that it was too late.

“Don’t worry, citizens! Gizmoduck is here to rescue! Blathering Blather-“ A brown duck in a lab coat came rushing with a stack of lab reports. But the moment Fenton spotted the well-built lumberjack wielding a sharp axe, looking at him straight in the eyes, even the robo-hero fainted onto the ground, pieces of paper scattered around him on the courtyard.

An awkward silence followed.

Abner looked at the unconscious duck on the ground, the crying duck in blue, and the annoyed duck in red. “Weird city slickers...”

“Umm...You probably should go now, before anyone comes. I will take care of these two.” Huey spoke while dropping Dewey onto the ground. He held Abner’s hand sincerely, and whispered to him.

“Take Fethry away. Away from his misery.”

Even without Huey’s request, Abner would do that himself.

———————————————————————————————

Abner borrowed a wooden boat from a local fishermen duo. The duo offered a turbo jet, even free of charge. But Abner preferred the old-styled oar-driven boat, and insisted on paying for rent (of $1).

The weather that day was not the best for a sail, but Abner could not wait to see his brother. And he believed that his brother would think the same. He followed the GPS on his phone to the coordinates of the McDuck Sub-lab, and paddled against the current.

Despite living most of his life on land, Abner had learnt how to sail at a young age, thanks to his Junior Woodchuck training. He stopped paddling for a moment, and took out his Junior Woodchuck guidebook from his knapsack. On the first page was a photo of him, Fethry and their fellow teammates. At that time, both of them were ducklings. Abner just got his white feather coat, while Fethry was still a yellow-feathered child. Fethry was the most enthusiastic member of their Junior Woodchuck team. Being a Junior Woodchuck was the only thing Fethry could take pride in.

(9-3-2020)

Fethry was the reason Abner joined the scouting organisation. What was taught by the scoutmasters, such as building a campfire, pitching a tent, and (of course) bringing down a tree, had already been learnt by Abner from his lumberjack mentor. Yet, Abner let his brother demonstrate his skills as a Junior Woodchuck. He joined the organisation after an invitation from Fethry, to share Fethry’s joy and pride of being appreciated and praised by his juniors and seniors. Only as a Junior Woodchuck could Fethry truly be himself.

Abner took one last look at the photo, and closed the guidebook. He would be seeing him soon. In person.

———————————————————————————————

“Hey. You didn’t tell me about this thing here.”

Abner phoned Dewey when he saw the weird machine inside the lighthouse. There were so many buttons and levers on it, Abner didn’t know which would lead him down the lab, and which would set the lab on fire.

“Oh, now you are asking for help.” Dewey said sarcastically. “Not before you say sorry for trying to chop us up.”

Abner slapped his forehead with an audible sound, while Huey slapped Dewey with an audible scream. Huey caught Dewey’s phone with his other hand, and instructed Abner on the machine.

“Just pull the red lever and you are good to go. The one next to two stopwatch-looking thingie, with a green grid screen on top of it. There should be a green arrow pointing down once you pulled the lever.”

Abner pulled the lever as he was told, and the machine started rumbling. “Thanks Cos’.”

“My pleasure. A Junior Woodchuck always helps his fellow Junior Woodchucks.” Said Huey proudly before hanging up the phone. Abner was dumbfounded about how much his newly-met Cousins knew about him, as the elevator took him down to the depth of the ocean.

———————————————————

The elevator stopped suddenly.

Abner nearly lost his footing, before balancing himself with his axe. He tried pulling the lever, but there was no further response. The glass gate to a corridor of the lab only opened slightly, the gap too small for Abner to slide through.

Without any further way to proceed, Abner tried forcing the gate open with the poll of his axe. The glass gate easily gave way, rising up to the top automatically. Abner sighed, seeing how worn-out the lab was. At this point, he wondered if the lab was still in use. Everything looked like it was in ruins.

Abner looked around the corridor: The walls were dirty. The pipes were rusty and broken, with unknown chemical solutions dripping from the holes. The lighting flickered on and off, giving the place an ominous atmosphere. His surrounding was unnervingly quiet, except for the dripping of liquid. As if someone, or something, was waiting for him, watching him from the shadows. The smell was awful, a mix of seawater, chemical wastes and rotten organisms. The wall of the corridor read: “Tully Observatory”.

Abner was known to have nerves of steel, but even he could not help but feel scared. The lab was visibly dangerous. If the boys were not guided by Fethry, Abner doubted he would be here now. He would probably never receive the letter. The letter would have never been written. He held his axe close to himself, eyes darting left and right, up and down to look for potential dangers. He took out his flashlight from his knapsack, and turned it on, holding it in his left hand with his other hand grasping the axe tightly. He could feel his heart racing as he nervously shone the flashlight everywhere. But the light from the flashlight came out wobbly, largely due to his hand uncontrollably trembling.

“Man up, Whitewater!” Abner tried to give himself a pep talk. He was the strongest arm in his town, able to win any wrestling match without breaking a sweat, be it with men or beasts. But now he was alone, sweating involuntarily without a single enemy in sight. Abner was grateful he was alone, lest anyone saw him shaking like a damsel in distress. Yet, part of him was also wishing for company. Someone to fight alongside with him. Someone to give him courage and encouragement.

Suddenly, the light went out. For 1 second. 5 seconds. 10 seconds. 30 seconds...Abner dared not to move, and shone his flashlight in every direction. He wanted to make a run for the elevator, but his strong legs were weak with fear. Abner was near his breaking point. He knew something was there with him, as a hissing sound and a disgusting noise were heard. He strained his ears in the darkness, trying to predict where the enemy, or enemies, would ambush him from, but his head was in a daze. The sounds were getting closer, closer and closer to him. They were coming from all direction. Abner’s heart sank: He was surrounded.

At this point, Abner wished the lights would not turn on again, like a child covering his eyes to not see the monster in front of him. He would rather die in ignorance than die in fear. He dropped the flashlight, and held his axe to himself as tightly as both of his trembling hands could.

Finally, at the worst moment, the lights switched on. Abner came face to face with rows of sharp teeth on the wall of a tunnel to the abyss, with the tunnel stretching to unknown length. He was too late to run. Too late to close his eyes. The monster was right in front of him.

(10-3-2020)

———————————————————

Abner was, to a certain extent, glad that no-one would be there to save him, there to hear him scream. He wildly swung his axe forward, clumsily missing his target just in front of him. He swung again, missing the giant sea worm by half a metre. Despite how large in size they were, the invertebrates were quite agile.

Abner was no trained warrior, but his proficiency in wielding an axe was second to none. The fact that he kept missing his targets dampened his battle spirit: He didn’t have a chance against the monster.

Suddenly, just before going in for another careless attack, Abner felt his feet leaving the metal ground. Abner’s heart sank even lower when he was lifted off the ground. He frantically glanced around despite hanging midair: His feet was caught. He was caught.

Worse still, his hand slipped, thanks to his cold sweat on his palm and the disgusting, slimy substance of the beasts. He dropped his axe. His only weapon. He could only desperately look at his axe falling to the stone cold ground, away from his hand, until a loud clunk could be heard.

Abner had no time to fear for the worst. The monster quickly wrapped its body around the duck, squeezing the warmth out of him. Not even the strongest arm in the countryside could resist the constrictor. He tried pushing at the smooth, jade-green skin of the worm, with all the strength he could muster. It didn’t even bulge. Uh oh.

The predator, though without eyes, sensed its prey trying to push his way free. A quick coil pinned his arms to his body, immobilising those nasty limbs. Oh no.

With only his head and feet free, Abner knew that was the end for him. No way to help him escape. No way to struggle. No way to cry for help (at least, no one to hear him). He frantically thrashed around helplessly, heart pounding, eyes wide open with fear.

He made the long trip to Duckburg, met two of his distant cousins, knew his brother’s ordeal, went to where his brother was trapped, and now he’s going to die without even catching a glimpse of his brother. For four and a half years...he had no contact with his brother. And he would soon be no longer to hear from his dear Fethry forever.

The sea worm tightened its crushing grip, subduing even one of the toughest ducks in the world. Abner’s struggling ceased. He felt that his seemingly limitless strength had been squeezed out. Abner could only squirm weakly, watching as his predator loomed over his relatively small body. The pair of lips split to reveal the tunnel of fangs, seeming endless in length.

Perhaps he was already too late. There’s no way Fethry could fight this monstrosity. Perhaps Fethry wasn’t in the lab anymore. This was the way to see his brother. This was how the two brothers could finally reunite. Abner’s view turned black, as the ravenous maw closed in...

“Hey, meanie! Leave him alone!” A strange yet familiar voice shouted out, echoing through the corridor. Though muffled, Abner could recognise that voice. The voice he had missed for nearly half a decade, the voice he came here for.

Fethry rushed to the base of Abner’s captor, patting the worm’s body, rubbing his beak against it. “You wouldn’t hurt a kind soul, would you? You lil’ angel...We have to treat our guests with love and respect!”

Upon “hearing” Fethry’s persuasion, the sea monster let out a sad whine, stopping its swallowing albeit still trapping its prey in its mouth. It’s still not giving up.

Fethry started to get impatient, but reminded himself to fight with kindness. “That’s my big bro, our VIP. We have to show our Atlantis-tic hospitality! You are a good host, right? A good host gives his guest personal space and freedom. I know you can do it...” Fethry encouraged the sea worm with a light kiss to its smooth, slimy body. Satisfied, the sea worm spat its prey out onto the ground, and lowered its head for a pat from Fethry. It slithered back to the lab’s extensive tunnel system, along with its fellow sea worms. The corridor once again became silent, except for the dripping of liquid.

———————————————————————————————

Fethry rushed to his brother’s side, checking for breath and pulse. Both were weak, but at least detectable. Abner lied against the metal wall, still drained and dizzy from the near-death experience. He slowly opened his eyes, meeting his little brother’s.

Fethry pulled Abner into a hug, despite Abner still being covered in the worm’s secretions. Fethry didn’t care. He missed his big bro. So, so bad.

(19-3-2020)

From just a single hug, Abner could feel all the warmth that had been squeezed out returned to him. Even in a daze, Abner could feel his brother’s emotions, his smile and tears. Four and a half years, across the ocean and over the mountains, the two brothers had finally reunited. To think that should Fethry had arrived five minutes later, just less than a jiffy to rescue his brother from the foul, mutated creature, the two brothers would had been forever parted by the death door. Fethry couldn’t imagine waiting in solitude for so long, only to see his brother die in front of him. A mixed feeling of happiness, sadness, anticipation, loneliness and guilt flooded Fethry’s mind, his grip tightening around Abner’s waist.

Abner knew that mixed feeling was mutual. Although unable to hug back due to his arms still numb, Abner said nor did anything, letting the welled-up emotions fill his heart, and express themselves in the form of tears.

———————————————————————————————

It was Fethry who let go first. Once he did, the good old enthusiastic Fethry was back.

“Big bro! You really did accept my invitation! I am so happy!” Fethry jumped up and down, visually showing his unnatural happiness.

Abner felt something a bit off, but went along with Fethry for now. “Yeah. I...uh, read your letter. Or your cousins’ letter. They met me at the McDuck Manor, and guided me here to find you. You said you have-“ “Oh! So you met the two lil’ Donalds! They were cute, weren’t they? I especially like the Red Donald. He’s a Junior Woodchuck too!” Fethry interrupted before Abner could finish. Fethry was always the bubbly type, so Abner was used to his enthusiasm.

“Yea. Um...’Huey’ was quite helpful. The other one...not so much.” Abner said as he got up from the floor, his legs still weak and numb. His entire body was drenched, but he got neither the energy nor the motivation to dry himself right now.

“Um...I...” Abner looked down, hands messing with his hair aimlessly. Fethry looked at him with his huge, watery eyes, waiting for his brother. “Th...than...thanks for saving me just now. I...I don’t know what would happen if...if you didn’t co...come to he...help. Thanks, Fethry.” Abner managed to utter the last sentence of gratitude without stuttering. Abner never owed anyone anything, and now he owed his life to his dear brother.

“Aww shucks...It was nothing.” Fethry puffed his chest proudly. “A Junior Woodchuck always helps his fellow Junior Woodchucks.” Abner chuckled as he saw the resemblance between his cousin Huey and his brother. No wonder Fethry liked Huey so much.

“Come on! I’ll show you around.” Fethry proposed as he took off his jacket, and put it on Abner. “You’ll catch a cold, big bro. Wear this!” Abner wouldn’t want to make his brother’s coat dirty, but he couldn’t deny that he was freezing. Partly because his head was uncovered right now...

“That’s right! Where’s your hat?” Fethry pointed out, before Abner even noticed his hat missing. “Must have been taken by that...thing as a souvenir. Won’t risk taking it back.” Abner shivered at the thought of fighting those monstrous sea worms again, that feeling of pure fear still lingering in his head.

“Oh, no! Your head must be kept constantly warm to prevent...brain-freezing! A warm head is a happy and healthy head...” So Fethry’s still believing in that self-help book? “No, I’m fine. Just need a quick rest...”

“Here, take this on!” Without hesitation, Fethry took off his stocking cap, and put it on Abner’s head. Fethry never took his stocking cap off. Fethry was never successfully convinced to take his stocking cap off. Fethry never doubted that self-help book’s advice of keeping your head warm to keep it healthy. And now he’s taking his cap off on his own, under no pressure or threat, and putting it on someone else’s head, while leaving his head bare and unprotected? Fethry’s love for his brother was so great, even Abner couldn’t comprehend.

“Th...thank you, Fethry...” Abner uttered in disbelieve, fixing his new undersized jacket and stocking cap. “Don’t mention it! They look great on you!” Fethry smiled.

(20-3-2020)

“I’ll take you on a tour! You are our honourable third guest!” Fethry walked forward down the corridor, looking back to signal Abner to come with him. Despite still having questions...a lot of questions...Abner decided keep his beak shut for the moment. Questions could wait. He retrieved his axe from the floor, and let Fethry take his hand.

———————————————————————————————

“And now, we come to the abode of the one and only Fethry Duck. Behold!” Fethry said in a tour guild’s voice, as the brothers entered Fethry’s abode. The pod was inhabitable, but clearly in disrepair.

Fethry’s voice was optimistic and persuasive, but the fact that the pod, along with the rest of the lab, was not a homely place was obvious. The golden-yellow paint on the wall was tearing off. Every piece of fabric was sewed up again and again (despite Fethry’s fine sewing skills, the evidence that those cloths have been used for years was inevitably visible). Electricity was still supplied throughout the lab, albeit unstably, as it was generated by the “hydrothermal vents” (as Fethry had explained). Living here for four and a half years was, to a small extent, possible, especially given how adaptable and creative Fethry was. But would anyone want to live in such a condition for so long?

(21-3-2020)

A torn poster was decorated on the wall. The only phrases readable were the title “Signs of Ocean Madness” and a bullet point “Isolation for Long Period of Time”. Abner wouldn’t say Fethry had gone mad, but he sure did feel...different. Different from a person suffering from isolation for long period of time. Why was the poster there in the first place? One of the partly-torn bullet point involved the word “Pressure”, and Huey reported Fethry trying to “depressurise” himself from the deep sea pressure. Was Fethry trying to stay sane while being trapped here? Was the torn poster a symbol that he had failed?

“So this is where I live. Simple and sweet. Not too much, not too little.” Fethry showed Abner his “home” by spinning around. “My bed, my sofa my stove, my tea kettle, my dishes, my towel, my empty coffee bean jar...” Among the possessions Fethry listed, he missed one prominent item in the room. One type of household item that was in excess quantity and diversity: Cleaning goods.

Fethry didn’t mention it, but Abner knew that much cleaning chemicals and tools were unnecessary for a pod this small.

“...my cupboard, my curtain, my window, through which you can see the beautiful ocean view - well, in depth...and...Oh! My team!” Fethry dashed to the an even smaller storage room, before Abner could stop him. He took out a jar of seawater, which, on mild stirring, began to glow. Bioluminescent krill. It was the first time Abner saw anything bioluminescent other than fireflies. The krill were beautiful, but Abner had no more time. Abner was happy that his little brother was happy, but something tells him Fethry was not. Questions could wait, but it was too long.

“My team, meet my big bro. My big bro, meet my team-“

“Why-“ Abner cut him off before he could introduce his “team”. That was obviously not a team, whatever the nature of the team was. Fethry was obviously hiding something. There’s no way he could feel so happy.

Yes, he just met his “long lost” brother. But then he’s taking Abner on a tour around his prison, without hinting why he was sent to this prison in the first place, or his feelings when trapped in this hell. Fethry asked his cousins to send his brother a distress signal, and his cousins added additional information on how pathetic the situation Fethry was in now. Fethry might hide the truth from the boys, as they were still acquaintances, and Fethry might not want to badmouth their dear Uncle Scrooge in front of them.

But there’s no reason why Fethry would ask the boys to send a long distance mail by air to Abner’s town, urged Abner to come all the way to the McDuck Sub-lab, only to take him on a tour around the lab. There’s no reason why Fethry would hide the truth from Abner, the only family member he could trust. He couldn’t hide it.

Fethry was evading. And Abner could see through it.

“Why could I fend off the sea worms? Oh...You see, they feel affection...” The sea worm attack was an hour ago. “So instead of fists, you fight with kisses! Red lil’ Donald’s tactic worked! I should write that in my Junior Woodchuck Guidebook...”

Fethry put down the jar on the cupboard, took the guidebook from his bed, and began flipping through the pages to find a blank one. When he did, however, Abner put his right hand on the page, pushing the guidebook down. Fethry was wacky, but he’s not stupid. He knew he had been exposed. He’s just buying time now.

“Fethry, level with me. Please.” Abner requested firmly. “Why would Scrooge trap you here for four and a half years?” Fethry didn’t tell Abner he had been here for four and a half years, let alone the fact that Scrooge was the culprit.

The question pinpointed the problem at its core. There’s no escape for Fethry now. He dropped the smile on his face, and the guidebook in his hands. He lowered his head, and said nothing for the next minute. Abner waited, as Fethry was internally struggling to open the lid to his bottled-up feelings. Betrayal, rejection, isolation...

Fethry’s hands rarely balled into fists, his entire body shifted from shaking to trembling. Fethry could lie, but he couldn’t lie to himself. When those bottled-up emotions were let out, Fethry easily collapsed.

He fell onto his knees, his hands covering his face. Not even his hands could contain the flowing tears, which slipped through the gaps of his fingers. Four and a half years’ worth of buried sadness manifested into a pathetic wail, echoing in the small pod. He cried, screamed, shouted, cursed...It wasn’t the first time Abner saw his brother cry, but it was the first time he saw his brother cry this hard, this intense. Fethry hit the cold, hard ground with his fists. It surely hurt, but not as much as it was in his heart. Scrooge, Scrooge McDuck, Uncle Scrooge...Four and a half years, because of this man, this relative, this...”idol” of his.

Fethry needed some time. Some alone time. Abner watched as his brother expressed his feelings wildly in his so-called “home”, not saying a word, not doing an action.

In merely fifteen minutes, four and a half years’ time suddenly burst forward.

———————————————————

“So, the boys told you about what happened when they left...” Fethry, still looking down, stressed on the word “they”. He wasn’t allowed on board, on board the ship to freedom. That slap on the hand started to hurt again.

Abner sat on the ground to get to the same level as Fethry. Fethry had the answer to his own question.

“Ten years ago, I left from our hometown to Duckburg. I heard Donald and Della were going on adventures with Uncle Scrooge again, from Gladdy. Of course they wouldn’t involve me in their adventures. They wouldn’t even want me to know about their adventures.” Fethry said with a strong hint of sadness. It was after a visit by Gladstone Gander that Fethry left for Duckburg, but Abner never thought what really drove Fethry to his uncle was the postcard sent to Gladstone by Donald.

“I had been pushed aside, neglected and ignored for so long, I wanted to prove myself I could be as successful as anyone else. I wanted to prove that I am not just a Junior Woodchuck. I am more than a Junior Woodchuck. I am talentless. I am useless. I am weak. But I thought: Through determination and creativity, nothing is impossible. Isn’t this how Uncle Scrooge became the richest duck in the world? ‘Tougher than the toughies, smarter than the smarties...’, eh?” Fethry recited that phrase with pure bitterness. The phrase he once lived by had come back to bite him.

“When I arrived at Duckburg, however, Uncle Scrooge had stopped adventuring. Apparently, Della had laid three eggs, which are, of course, the three boys. Without Della, the adventure team stopped its operation.”

“‘That was my chance!’ I thought to myself. I could substitute Della as the third member while she waited for the eggs to hatch. After proving my abilities, I could become the fourth member of the team.”

“But Uncle Scrooge outright rejected my offer. ‘You are too incompetent,’ he coldly said to me. ‘Don’t think your Junior Woodchuck skills make you a genius.’ I understand. I am not as strong as Donald. I am not as brave as Della. But I have a heart for adventure as passionate as both of them. I am also a Junior Woodchuck like both of them. Somehow, being a ‘jack of all trade, master of none’ automatically makes you useless.”

“I tried to prove my worth as a team member. I had thought of possible locations for treasure hunting, researching the geographic and the fauna of those areas, thus working out the level of difficulty of different destination. I had also provided solutions, and self-invented gadgets if necessary. But all my proposals were not even given a glance. All my gadgets were not even given a trial. I understand Della was an irreplaceable member of the team. I wasn’t trying to replace her. I just wanted to be like her. Be a part of the team. Be...like Scrooge.”

“A man of miracles, hailing from the highlands of Scotland, travelled to the land of America at a young age of 18, gained his own bucket o’ gold from the gold rush at 20, and established his own company at the tender age of 22.5. Just four and a half years, Scrooge McDuck was already on his way to fame and glory. A man of miracles, indeed.”

(22-3-2020)

“And even the richest duck in the world couldn’t escape bad luck, it seemed. One day, I came to the McDuck Manor, and bumped into Donald with the three eggs. I didn’t need Donald to tell me what happened. It was all on the news. The niece of the richest duck in the world went missing in space. Poor ol’ Uncle Scrooge poured his heart and soul into saving his beloved niece. I had never seen him look that pathetic: His eyes were red with crying, his sleeves wet with tears. His feathers were all puffed up and ruffled. His office was in a mess. Oh, poor Uncle Scrooge.” Despite his wording and apparently sympathetic attitude, Abner could hear a strong satirical tone in his innocent little brother’s speech.

“Donald took up the responsibility to take care of the three little Donalds. I wanted to help, but Donald insisted on being the sole caretaker. Donald never like owing people things.”

“The only thing I can do is take care of Uncle Scrooge. Duckworth’s ageing body started to fail him, so I volunteered to help take care of my own uncle.”

“Those days were tough. Very tough. I believe Donald felt the same when raising three children on his own. Uncle Scrooge didn’t seem like himself. Once the owner of the world, now a pathetic old man. I did everything for him. Meals, cleaning, laundry, fetching newspaper, collecting mails, gardening...And he said my Junior Woodchuck skills meant nothing...”

“Dr Gearloose, as usual, helped in the repairing of electronic appliances, while Mr Duckworth helped deal with the press and the entrepreneurs. Those days were hard, but there, I found a meaning for my life. Despite I was just taking care of my uncle, I felt like someone appreciated me for the first time since I left the Junior Woodchucks. I felt like I was being treasured, being noticed. I was an apprentice of the legendary Scrooge McDuck!”

“I didn’t want his wealth or fame. I just want the attention he gets. Not the one from reporters, but from his family. That’s all I ask for: A place in this family. Where I can be myself, and be welcomed and accepted.”

“After a year or two, things started to get back together. The money bin was filled with coins and treasures again. The stock price of McDuck Enterprises was rising again. Even I was just being a caretaker, I felt like I had done something great for the family. I felt like I played a part to save McDuck Enterprises, and Uncle Scrooge himself. There weren’t any celebrations, but I was clapping my hands in my heart intensely when the news arrived.”

“Uncle Scrooge returned to his former glory. The last ray of sunlight at dusk seeped through the curtains into his office. Uncle Scrooge was asleep in his chair, tired from a day’s work. Even on a sunny day, autumn in Duckburg could be chilling. I took a blanket from the closet, and placed it on Uncle Scrooge. His drowsy ‘thank you’ was all I needed. Two words gave me the will to live on. A smile gave me the energy to move on. Just being by his side filled me with happiness. Just being with Uncle Scrooge gave me the meaning in life. I don’t need adventures anymore. I had found my position, my value.”

“But life just wouldn’t give ol’ Scrooge a break. Fate just likes to mess with people, you know?” Fethry’s voice deepened, signalling a dark turn of events.

“Five years ago, Mr Duckworth passed away. He had fought bravely against death for five years to witness the rebirth of Scrooge McDuck, but he succumbed to his disease on a beautiful autumn morning. The morning glory bloomed quietly in the garden, its speaker-shaped flowers listening to the silent prayers of the elderly duck.”

“We were afraid what happened five years before would happen again. It didn’t, in their eyes. But it did, in mine.”

“McDuck Enterprises didn’t fall into depression, but Uncle Scrooge did. It wasn’t very visible this time, and only Dr Gearloose and I noticed Scrooge’s abnormal behaviour. He had been working much. Too much. He could take care of himself. He ate, slept, bathed...but then it’s back to working time. The only socialising he did was with business partners. He only talked to Dr Gearloose about research and design. Nothing more.”

“Not being part of his enterprises, Uncle Scrooge didn’t talk to me at all. Except complaints about incomplete or imperfect houseworks. I still had my job, but the meaning was starting to fade. I was still Uncle Scrooge’s caretaker, but that’s all I was. I was treated as though I was being paid. I wasn’t appreciated. I wasn’t needed. Scrooge could take care of himself. What I was providing was no longer required. I was no longer important.”

“I was never appreciated in the first place. The one receiving the glory was Mr Duckworth, the forever faithful mister butler. He was the one who saved Uncle Scrooge. I was just pretending to be in his spotlight. Now that Mr Duckworth was gone, the spotlight ceased, and I realised I was the jester on the stage, not even close to a sidekick.”

(23-3-2020)

“I stayed by his side, taking the role of Mr Duckworth before a replacement could be found. Funny how I was now taking the role of someone else, like I always wanted, but I felt nothing. For half a year, I didn’t exist in this world. I was invisible, non-existing, intangible. Anxiety crept in as I realised my meaning in life getting away from me. I needed to be of use. I needed to contribute to McDuck Enterprises. Only then...I would feel Uncle Scrooge’s appreciation.”

“I asked for whether he needed any help. I had done all the necessary housework as possible, and asked for extra work for the Enterprises. The reply was surprising. Unfortunately surprising.” Abner frowned slightly as he knew what the job would be.

“‘Yes.’ He said. He introduced me to the McDuck Sub-lab, where I would be working as a scientist. The Sub-lab at that time looked nothing like this. Golden walls, brightly illuminated hallways, well-furnished laboratories...I was overjoyed when I stepped into the Sub-lab. I imagined how my life in the McDuck Enterprises would be: Me, working among elites from all over Duckburg, doing experiments and research with hundreds of Dr Gearloose, doing demonstrations and presentations in front of thousands of Scrooge McDuck...A life full of meaning was there in my reach.”

(24-3-2020)

Abner listened quietly, and kept his confusion to himself. Didn’t his cousins told him Fethry was just a caretaker of the lab?

“To think I could be second to Dr Gearloose, the greatest inventor in Duckburg, I was more than delighted. Childish it may seem, but I always aspire to be a scientist. A person who can change someone’s life. A person who can change the world for the better. I just find it meaningful to help others. Must be all that teaching back in the Junior Woodchuck.”

“That’s why I invited you to Duckburg at Christmas of that year, big bro.”

Fethry looked up, looking at Abner’s shocked expression. Abner seldom answered his family’s invitation. His family seldom gave Abner invitation. But that Christmas, five years ago, Abner accepted his brother’s invitation. He knew there must be a reason why Fethry, the one who knew him the most, would invite him to a family gathering on purpose.

———————————————————————————————

At the front door of the McDuck Manor, there he was: Fethry waving at his brother in the front garden, wearing a bright smile that warmed Abner’s heart in the evening snowfall. That was the first and only time Abner entered the Manor. He would never think of getting in there if it wasn’t because of that letter from Fethry.

Despite the Fethry’s warm welcome, the bright lighting and the fragrant aroma of wintry herbs, the inside of the Manor was colder than the outside. The Manor seemed unusually big, thanks to the lack of occupants. It’s true: Scrooge would stay in his office, while Gyro would stay at home. One hated Christmas, one hated human interactions in general. That “family gathering” was between the two brothers only.

Still, Fethry prepared everything himself: The invitation, the decorations, the hospitality, the food...That full-course meal was the best Abner had ever had. After all, which chef in all of Duckburg - or in the world - would know what he personally liked the most?

Together, the two brothers warmed up the three-storey manor. On the Christmas day five years ago, laughter filled the McDuck Manor. The long-gone festive atmosphere surrounded the Manor. The winter moonlight illuminated the once misery abode. For one night, a couch beside the fireplace became the most cozy place in the city. For one night, a plain bunk bed became the most comfortable place in the world.

For one night, a Christmas miracle was bestowed to the Duck family.

———————————————————————————————

But little did Abner know, the Christmas present given to him that year was a parting gift.

Fethry didn’t tell his brother about his new “occupation”. He wanted to invite his brother to his new working place for a tour once he started working there. But surely, that dream didn’t come true until now, four and a half years later.

“I wanted to celebrate with you, brother.” Fethry held Abner’s hand. “That was the best Christmas I had ever enjoyed ever since we grew up and went separate ways. I wish that Christmas night would repeat. That happiness and warmth I experienced would come back to me...” Fethry was close to tears, but held them back with a soft sniff.

“And then, I didn’t experience any Christmas at all for four years. The next spring, I was brought to the Sub-lab by a submarine, guided to the depth of the building complex, and left stranded here until now. Uncle Scrooge promised the other scientists would be joining me soon, but I should have known better. A tin can for communication? How silly of me. I watched as the Uncle Scrooge left with the only vehicle to freedom, and disappeared into the spring mist. I remembered I waved at him, smiling. I could imagine Scrooge doing the same, smiling at his gullible nephew.”

“While waiting for my non-existing colleagues, I did the only thing I know. The thing I once did to save the company: Caretaking. I found the cleaning goods in this pod, and made the whole laboratory sparkly cleaned, ready for scientists from all over the world to join me underseas.”

“For days, weeks, months, years...nobody came. The tin can must have rung countless times, but nobody answered. I tried joking, shouting, screaming for response, but nobody replied. I waited on the dock of the lighthouse for ships from McDuck enterprises, or just from any good Samaritan, but nobody even passed by in the murky sea. I don’t have a submarine, ship or boat. Even if I did, the only coordinates I have was of this cursed Sub-lab. I wouldn’t know where to go. Swimming back to land was suicide. I have learnt enough to know how dangerous the wonders of the sea could be. That’s when I knew: I am truly trapped in this deserted laboratory.”

“Food was running short. Clean water was running short. Fear was running high. Even with my Junior Woodchuck guidebook, I can’t survive on my own in the middle of nowhere. Worse still, the chemical waste and the hydrothermal vents were turning my sea companions into murderous monsters.”

“What started out small enough to fit my palm mutated into unmeasurable length. You aren’t the only one scared of those sea worms, big brother. The first time I met one of those, I knew I was going to die. Just one of those monsters, and I was immediately subdued. My eyes wide opened, my feet dangling midair. I was cornered, trapped, vulnerable. That was the end for me, I was convinced. That was where I would die. That was how I would die. Alone, scared, hopeless, helpless...”

“I cried. Pathetically. At the mercy of my predator, I didn’t use my hands to struggle. I didn’t use my hands to beg for salvation. I used my hands to cover my face, wiping away ever-flowing tears. That wouldn’t help, but I knew I couldn’t save myself anyway. I was weak. I would never be tougher than the toughies, smarter than the smarties. I just couldn’t. I cry when I am scared. I panic when I am startled. At the end, I am just a whiny kid.”

“My discovery about those worms was the result of that near-death experience. The monster loosened its grapple, from a crushing grip to a gentle embrace. It softly set me down onto the floor, and nuzzled my face. They may not have eyes or noses, but they can sense emotions. It must had sensed my sadness, and felt my tears dripping onto its smooth skin. These were my buddies, originally my predators. I was pathetic enough to treat my killers as my friends. I was pathetic enough to let those cold, smily skin give me warmth and comfort.”

(30-3-2020)

Fethry paused for a brief moment, before letting out a little laugh. “On the other hand...” He pointed at the torn poster on the wall. “That is what Scrooge gave me. A mockery, letting me know I’m going insane: My cries for help are just ‘signs of madness’. My fears of dying are merely ‘paranoia’...”

The laughter turned from a chuckle to a hysterical cackle. “When I look at that poster...That worn-out piece of paper bearing the logo of McDuck Enterprises, signed by Scrooge McDuck himself...” Fethry touched the window of the pod, looking at the deep sea outside. “My anger as scalding as the vocanlos, but my sorrow as blue as the sea.”

Abner looked at the jar of bioluminescent krill Fethry was hugging close to himself. The dim blue lights from the critters reminded him of the twinkling stars back at their hometown. Fethry must have thought the same: Whenever Fethry stared lovingly at his “team”, was he thinking of his hometown? Those carefree days observing the starlit night sky with his brother on the meadow. He used to make a wish to the stars every night. Was he doing the same to the krill? How many wishes had he made during those four and a half years?

“But...” Abner hesitated to say the question he had been wanting to ask. “Why would Scrooge do this to you?”

Fethry didn’t answer immediately, still looking at the deep sea. Abner patiently waited, silently worrying he might had asked a wrong question. Was it something Fethry had done? Did Fethry not have the answer?

“Uncle Scrooge wanted a start over.”

Fethry whispered, looking back at Abner.

“Ever since Della went missing, Donald went away, I was the only person who would remind Uncle Scrooge of his past, adventure days. After Mr Duckworth passed away, Scrooge wanted to move on. Falling into depression a second time taught Scrooge the only way to rehabilitation was to let go of the past.”

“I’m his life reset button. Only by removing me could Uncle Scrooge forget the past and return to his former success. When I realised I was trapped here, I understood Scrooge’s intention: Getting rid of me, dead or alive.”

Fethry showed a sad smile.

“At the end, I was saving McDuck Enterprises after all.”

———————————————————————————————

A faint ray of light pierced through the glass into the pod.

The sky must had cleared up. For light to penetrate through the deep ocean layers, the sunlight out there must be very bright.

The sunlight illuminated Fethry’s smile, like an angel trapped in hell, yet basked in heaven’s light.

And Abner’s going to free this angel from his underwater prison. He’s going to give his brother the salvation he had deserved for four and a half years.

Abner stood up, walking behind Fethry, and returned his jacket and stocking cap, helping him put on the clothing. Before he could decline the offer, Abner held his brother’s hand, helping him up.

“We’re getting out of here, Fethry.”

The younger brother replied with a nod and a smile, his watery eyes showing his gratitude and happiness.

Just like in the past, back in the rural hometown: A big brother holding his younger brother’s hand, walking home in the dark.

Axe in one hand, his brother’s hand in another, Abner walked through the ruined underwater lab for the second and the last time. What seemed like hell just an hour ago was a bit more homely now. The cold, metallic ground underneath was now the path to freedom.

Walking towards the wall labelled “Tully Observatory”, Abner faced the predator again. The sea worm came out of its hiding spot, tilting its head at the duo. Abner let go of his brother, dropped his axe voluntarily, and paddled towards the monster whom he had feared just a while ago. The duck embraced his predator, patting the head previously trying to devour him.

“Thank you for accompanying my brother.” Abner uttered, a bit unbelieving that he’s talking to a seemingly non-sentient being. Whether it understood or not, Abner felt that he must give his gratitude to the only company his brother had had until their two young cousins came to visit.

The sea worm let out a contented whine, like a cat’s purr. Despite having no limbs or visible sensory organs, that creature was quite sensitive. The invertebrate bent its body, seemingly trying to cough out something. Abner put out his hands to receive the “gift”, which was no other than his own brown hat.

Slightly disgusted, but heart-warmed, Abner gave the monster one last pat, put on the hat, before taking his axe and his brother’s hand again.

———————————————————————————————

The sky in the outside world looked like it had never rained before. The evening shade was a mix of aqua and orange, with sparse clouds a deep blue colour. Distant light from lighthouses and ships looked like twilight stars fallen from the sky, gleaming brightly on the water surface. The waves were calm, the breeze gentle, as if it was the start of a new journey.

Abner stepped onto the boat, putting his axe back into his leather bag, his knapsack beside him, while taking the oar in his hand. Fethry looked at the lighthouse one last time - his home for nearly half a decade - but his heart was now calm as the evening tides. He had left his sadness, wrath, despair, and agony down on the sea bed. Uncle Scrooge was right: Only by letting go of the past could someone move forward.

Fethry flipped a switch, turning the lights off. No need for the beacon of hope, now that the stars were in his reach. Fethry took a deep breath, and turned around to his brother.

“Let’s go home, big brother.”

(7-3-2020 ~ 11-6-2020)

———————————————————————————————

-Oh my god I finally finished it.

-This is actually the first fan-fiction I have started in my life, but the fourth to finish writing. This is also probably the longest story I will ever write. I’m sorry I’m impatient and lazy.

-Like “122,640 Days” (and “Hey Laddie”(?)), I wrote most of “Brother’s Sentiment” before and during my public exam. I’m sorry I’m a terrible student.

-(Okay back to the story) This story is an AU (?) of the Ducktales (2017) episode “The Depth of Cousin Fethry!” (S02E02), in which Huey and Dewey did not (could not) free Fethry after their visit to the McDuck Sub-lab, so as to give way for Fethry’s big brother Abner “Whitewater” Duck. The lab was not destroyed during the kids’ visit (sorry Mitzy no playing hero for you).

-I also tried to give a backstory as to why Fethry ended up in the lab in the first place, a description of Fethry’s feelings for being trapped for four and a half years, and a reason for Scrooge’s decision of trying to indirectly kill his relative, etc. These aspects were not explored in the series and were thus non-canon.

-Also non-canon was Scrooge’s road to fame as described in the story. I know there’s a detailed backstory about Scrooge’s rise to power (?), but I am not a real fan I didn’t do my research I’m sorry wanted to fit the time “4.5 years” so as to make a comparison between Scrooge and Fethry.

-The story was written (finished) at the start of Season 3 (up to S03E07). More of Fethry may be explored (Abner screen debut please), so the story really is all my imagination.

Two songs I listened to while writing (most of) the story:

Mitsuha’s Theme (三葉のテーマ), from Your Name https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=NHefLo230SE

Kataware Doki (かたわれ時), also from Your Name https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=Uy3NpQRJntc

———————————————————————————————

Thank you for reading my first story. Have a nice day!

#ducktales #ducktales 2017 #the depth of cousin fethry #fethry duck #abner duck #whitewater duck #story #storyteller #long story

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loopsforlupin · 4 years

Text

Remus Lupin Headcannons

- He curses like a sailor. While he normally does it under his breathe, Sirius, Peter, and James are normally close enough to hear the filth and curses that fall out of Remus’s normally polite lips. It makes Sirius feel a certain way, one that he tries not to focus on because certain anatomical parts seem particularly fond of those lips forming those words. It’s especially bad when Remus curses Sirius out for getting injured, because Remus seems to forget what personal space is then, and is man handling Sirius’s body in order to treat the various wounds Sirius didn’t realize he had. One time Remus stripped Sirius down with one hand while using his other hand to hold Sirius’s wrists above his head. Sirius has never been so turned on and confused in his life. He’s still not sure how it was possible to have all the blood in his body rushing in opposite directions and not die.

- Remus has depression. He’s unsure if he was born with it, or if it’s a direct result of being attacked by a werewolf at four years old due to his fathers hateful views. However, he tries many things to beat back his depression. He exercises regularly, going on runs around the Hogwarts grounds with James. He tries to eat a balanced diet, but Peter likes to sneak to the kitchen for food, and the house elves are always so sad when Remus refuses their offers of sweets. So he often just accepts that he probably eats way to much sugar, but at least he tries. He keeps a meticulous diary of his emotions, and when they start to go to far down the rabbit hole that is his disease, Remus will stick close to James and Sirius, because he’s afraid that if he doesn’t, the voice he tries so hard to ignore may shout loud enough to make him do something he’ll regret, and he’s never been more grateful for his friend’s silent and unwavering support than on those dark days.

- With depression comes bad days. On those bad days where even rolling over in bed seems like a monumental task, Remus is glad to have his friends. Because Sirius will notice first, and he’ll tell James who tells Peter. From there, a series of events happens. Sirius goes to the kitchen, and asks the eager house elves if they would please make a special pot of chocolate, only instead of a chocolate bar or chips, could they use the chocolate icing from Remus’s favorite German chocolate cake. Then he grabs large containers of whipped cream, salted Carmel drizzle, and a huge basket of various baked confections. James will have sent an owl to McGonagall telling her that Remus was unwell and would not be in classes for the day, and if she could please send any missed assignments with James for Remus to catch up. Then he would set about finding the softest and most comfortable blankets in the dorms. Most of which his mother had knitted and sent to him because they all knew James liked to be warm at night but cool during the day. Peter would tidy up the room. Making sure that when Remus felt better, he wouldn’t have to deal with a cluttered room, which Remus really hated. He would then find the newest book his mother sent him and he would sit by Remus’s bed and he would just start to read aloud. His voice soft and unhurried lolling Remus into the narrative with every word. Silence would spread around the room as the only sounds were the crackling fire, and Peter’s voice telling of some magical land beyond the “second star to the right”.

- Remus can’t stand to be touched. It’s partially due to his belief that his condition makes him a monster, but it’s also in part because his father had refused to touch him in anything less than anger since he was four now. Much like Sirius, sudden or quick movements may cause a flinch when directed at him. It took James awhile to be trusted enough to even put an arm around Remus’s shoulders. Trust that was earned by constantly slowly approaching Remus, directly in his line of sight, and only reaching out after having verbal confirmation that the touch was accepted. Remus and Sirius both appreciated that James was willing to go so far just to show them affection. Especially, as he was such an affectionate individual. His love to touch and be touched was well known throughout the Gryffindor house, and to some extent even the other houses knew. Sirius thawed faster towards James, but then again, James had basically decided that the broken black haired boy was now his adopted baby brother and had looked at the walls Sirius had built around his heart and just blasted them away. Remus however, he had to carefully maneuver around those walls, because Sirius’s defenses were just thick walls, Remus had his walls covered in Devil’s snare and thorns. But if Remus had ever asked James, James would have told him that the effort to take down those spikey and deadly walls was well worth the effort, because James gained not only one brother, but two. And James loved his brothers more then he had loved anything else.

- Remus fell in love slowly. Oh so slowly, but the realization that he was in love, well that hit him like a freight train. James and Sirius were playing in the Quidditch game (Gryffindor vs. Ravenclaw), and Remus and Peter stood in the stands cheering for them. Aaron Blishen, a Ravenclaw beater, hit the bludger towards James, which Sirius gladly intercepted hitting it right back towards Aaron’s own team mate, but that meant that Sirius missed Brent Odgen’s well aimed bludger. It Sirius in the back, and knocked him clear off his broom. Remus’s heart leapt out of his chest and blocked his throat. Sirius was falling, Sirius was falling, SIRIUS WAS FALLING. James having realized his brother’s fate was desperately trying to catch the falling boy, along with Aaron, both boys laying flat against their brooms trying to catch up to the falling body. Remus couldn’t take his eyes off his falling friend. Sirius Black, his best friend, the person who made jokes about his condition, who cuddled up to him after nightmares, who brought him chocolate after the full moon, who hated his family’s dark views. Sirius Black who lit up the room when he came in, who made the dark days easier just by being in the room. Sirius was Remus’s star, he made the darkness not so over bearing, but right now all Remus could think was please please please Sirius! He loved the boy, and if James and Aaron don’t catch him, he was going to watch the boy he loved fall to his death. Not breathing, Remus didn’t even notice his hands clutching Peter’s arm, or the way that Peter was trying desperately not to cry out in pain from the tight grip. James barely managed to push the broom fast enough, but he managed to catch Sirius with 5 meters to square. The added weight of the boy, almost pulled James off his broom, but Aaron caught up enough to help stabilize both Gryffindors, and the trio landed safe enough on the ground. Madam Hooch was there within a second, casting spells at Sirius. Remus couldn’t stand still any longer, and sprinted down, along with Peter who was huffing to keep up, and emerged on the field just as Sirius was woken up with a quick “Rennervate”. He flailed for a couple of seconds before realizing that he was no longer falling. Remus knelt down and placed his hand on Sirius’s chest, which Sirius automatically covered with his own hand. “I’m fine Moony, promise.” Remus didn’t believe him for one second, but he kept his disbelief quiet, and just tried to remind himself why oxygen was necessary. It wasn’t until later that night, as Remus laid in his bed, that he realized his thoughts at the game. Love? He groaned into his pillow, he was too tired to focus on his suddenly new found homosexuality, and apparent love for his best friend. So Remus pushed aside those troubling thoughts and went to bed.

- Remus hates sharing. It’s a shock to the other boys at first, but they realize quickly that Remus has good reasons to protect his things. Remus may be an only child, but his mother Hope had multiple older siblings, who decided to have multiple children as well, meaning Remus had many cousins who liked to take his few toys or other valuable little treasures. Remus’s wolf was also possessive, and didn’t like to let others touch what was the wolf’s property. This often times included his friends. Remus couldn’t help but glare and often times growl under his breath when people touched James, Sirius or Peter. James was especially prone to being touched by strangers or people Remus didn’t like to touch his things. James was his pack mate, people shouldn’t touch his pack mate. Whenever Remus noticed James being touched, and his wolf was feeling extra possessive, Remus would proceed to touch James wherever the other person had, removing the other’s scent, and replacing it with Remus’s. It became such a pattern that James would even seek Remus out after someone touched him. Remus didn’t often have to do it with Sirius and Peter, but even they came to understand that Remus needed to do it for his own sake. Sirius most often came to Remus after he had been with one of his conquests, meaning Remus had to practically flop on top of Sirius to make sure the other’s scent went away. He needed to ensure that Sirius especially smelled like him, although it wasn’t until that fated quidditch game that Remus understood why. Stupid wolf had gone and decided that Sirius was his mate. Stupid wolf didn’t realize that Remus had no shot with the dark haired heir.

- Remus loved chocolate. This was not a secret. In fact, the few admirers who tried to get Remus to notice them, usually gifted him chocolate as it was a well known way to ensure that Remus was paying attention. But only the Marauders knew that Remus also had an obsession with sugar quills. There was something about the sweets that Remus couldn’t ignore. It was a complete accident as to how Remus developed this love. He had been studying for history of magic, and was reading allowed from the book, in an attempt to make Peter understand the work. Sirius, who had been trying to get Remus to help with a new prank idea grew tired of being ignored, and took his sugar quill which he had been gesturing with and shoved the quill into Remus’s mouth to silence him. James and Peter were stunned. Remus was unsure how to react. On the one hand, he was angry that Sirius had just shoved the sweet into his mouth, and had hit his teeth in the process, and on the other hand, well the quill was actually quite pleasing. The pleasantness won out, and Remus let out a little noise as he sucked on the quill. James and Peter both quirked an eyebrow at the noise, but Sirius turned beet red and his mouth fell open with an audible noise. Remus sucked on the quill hard enough that his cheeks hallowed, and his eyes lowered as he enjoyed the treat forced onto him. James and Peter shared another look before they broke into loud laughter, not that Sirius noticed, his eyes to fixed on the way Remus’s mouth looked wrapped around the sugary treat. After a minute of enjoying his treat, Remus pulled the quill from his mouth, creating a small popping sound, and looked at Sirius, still a stunned mess who couldn’t decide where exactly he should be looking. “Thanks Pads. You know, I haven’t ever actually had Sugar quill before. I like them!” Remus then started to pack away all his things, and got up to leave. He walked a couple feet towards the dormitory before he stopped and turned around, gesturing with his new treat and spoke. “But if you ever put something in my mouth again without asking, I’m going to bite it. Just letting you know.” Remus went up to the dorms, leaving a still laughing Peter and James, and a very confused and slightly turned on Sirius.

#wolfstar #Sirius Black #Remus Lupin #Hogwarts #James Potter #Peter Pettigrew

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alphacrone · 4 years

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for it's better to burn out than to fade out of sight (2/?)

rating: T pairings: Yuki & Tohru (platonic), Tohru/Kyo, Yuki/Machi, other canon pairings & friendships summary: In the end, it wasn’t sadness Yuki felt, when Tohru Honda had her memories erased. No, it was anger. And anger he could work with.

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ii. well, i've got open eyes & an open door

***

Living with the Hanajima family was...stifling.

No—not stifling! Tohru was so grateful to them for taking her in and for treating her so kindly. Saki’s parents had always been so welcoming to Tohru, and she considered Megumi to be her own younger brother. Even Misa, Hana’s grandmother, to whom Torhu rarely spoke, had doted on her the first night she spent living there, serving her tea and odango. The love and generosity of the Hanajima family was overwhelming, but it soothed an ache in Tohru’s chest she hadn’t realized was there.

But...the guilt was suffocating her, especially at night, after Hana had fallen asleep and Tohru was left alone with her thoughts. Hirofumi, Hana’s father, already worked so hard to support his mother, wife, and children; surely Torhu was just an unneeded burden in an already full house. She offered to cook, but the kitchen was Misa’s domain. She tried to take over cleaning duties, but Yumi, Hana’s mother, would bat her away with a playful smile, telling her she already worked too hard at her job. Feeling desperate, Tohru even approached Hirofumi about paying rent or utilities, but he’d just given her a stern look and said, “This isn’t a boarding house; you’re our guest.”

Their kindness brought tears to Tohru’s eyes, but with every grain of rice in her bowl and every inch of space she took up in Hana’s bed, Tohru could only see the growing debt she’d never be able to repay. At least with Grandpa, she’d done the housework, and she’d likely continue to do the same when Aunt Mie and her cousins moved in. Her time living in the tent had been cold and dark and oftentimes scary, but the independence Tohru had come to know had kept her spirits lifted. It all seemed a blur now, weeks out in the woods on her own flowing into tangled memories, but the one constant she’d known was the sense of peace that came from the knowledge that no one was burdened by her existence. She took care of herself so no one else had to.

Was it lonely? Uo had asked, after she’d calmed down that day in the classroom.

No, Tohru had answered, and it was true. Perhaps the spirit of her mother had been all the company she’d needed, but her memories of the tent always came with a sense of companionship, a sense of safety that surely wasn’t warranted. It wasn’t lonely .

Still...something didn’t sit right with Tohru when she thought about it too hard. Those first nights had been clear in her mind, the wind threatening the walls of her tent, the howls of stray dogs nearby, the scuttling of bugs across her skin—it had been difficult, but she’d persevered. After that, though, her time camping felt like a dream, warm and hazy and golden. She remembered the shuffling of papers; the tinkling of windchimes; a cat’s hiss; a boy’s soft laugh. Happy dreams, Tohru supposed, that kept her going during that time.

She hadn’t been lonely alone in the woods...but she should have been.

***

“I heard you ate lunch with Prince Yuki yesterday, Tohru,” Uo said as they stretched before gym class. “Those fanclub girls are not happy about it.”

“Eh?!” Tohru was taken aback. “Yes, Sohma asked to eat lunch with me yesterday, but it’s just because he saw I was sitting by myself. He was being nice.”

“You think so?” Hana asked, picking at the chipping black paint on her nails. “That’s not something Sohma does often.”

Uo nodded, hands on her hips. “Come to think of it, the Prince always eats lunch by himself, no matter how many girls pester him. He doesn’t even sit with his cousin.”

“O-oh? Really? Well…” Tohru tugged on the end of one of her pigtails, face growing warm under the scrutiny of her friends. “Maybe he thought I was lonely. He was very nice, we talked about gardening! Did you know Sohma likes to garden?”

“What is he, an old lady?” Uo snorted. “Well, just...be careful, Tohru. The Prince might be nice, but his fangirls are rabid .”

“His waves are...unusual,” Hana commented, more to herself than to her friends. “I don’t know what to make of them.”

“Unusual?” Tohru tilted her head to the side. “Have you...said that before? About him?” Something about it rang familiar.

Hana raised an eyebrow. “I have. But I still do not know what it means.”

“Maybe he’s like you, Hana,” Uo teased, poking Hana’s cheek with her index finger. “Maybe he’s got some secret powers.”

“Oh, wouldn’t that be wonderful!” Tohru exclaimed. “Hana, you’d have a friend like you!”

The corner of Hana’s twitched up into the ghost of a smile. “We’d have to be friends, first.”

“Then let’s make friends with him!” Tohru continued, clapping her hands together. “Maybe he can sense waves, too? Can you sense your own waves? Are his like Megumi’s? Or maybe it’s something totally different!”

“Alright, alright, calm down, Tohru,” Uo said, patting her on the head. “It doesn’t matter what’s wrong with his waves if he turns out to be a shitty friend. One step at a time.”

“Roger that!” Tohru drew herself up into a very serious salute. Hana laughed softly. “Friends first, waves second!”

“Maybe if we’re friends with him, he’ll give us produce from his garden…” Uo mused, stretching her arms over her head. In the distance, the gym teacher yelled at them to get into formation for a run around the track. “My old man needs more greens in his diet.”

“Tohru makes a delicious sukiyaki,” Hana commented casually. “I’m sure it would be even better with garden-grown vegetables.”

Uo snorted. “It’s not cold enough for nabe, Hana. You just want the meat.”

“Guilty as charged,” Hana said.

Tohru laughed with her friends as they began their run with the rest of the class, but a new spark had blossomed in her belly that she couldn’t ignore. If there was something about Sohma, then she had to get him and Hana to become friends. Hana had spent her whole life feeling like an outcast because of powers she’d had since birth. If there was someone out there like her...

Tohru had noticed it when they ate together, talking lightly about soil and sunlight, but Sohma had the saddest eyes she’d ever seen. They reminded her of the clouds before rain, dark gray and full to bursting. No matter how politely he smiled or how kindly he asked about her day, there was an intense sorrow in his gaze that broke Tohru’s heart.

If he had powers like Hana then maybe, like her, he’d be alone for a long time, too.

***

“Oi! Sohma!”

Tohru held back a meep of surprise when Uo shouted at Sohma from across the classroom the next day during lunch. She’d intended on approaching him herself, after he finished talking to Mayu-sensei, but Uo had beaten her to the punch. Mayu-sensei waved him off, giving Uo an amused smirk, and Sohma approached tentatively. Tohru couldn’t totally blame him; Uo and Hana looked scary when you didn’t know them.

“Is something wrong, Uotani?” He asked, head tilted.

“Nope,” she said, then patted the empty desk next to her. “Wanna eat with us?”

Sohma looked taken aback. “Only if you want to,” Tohru added hurriedly. “If you’re busy or already have plans with friends-”

“No,” Sohma said, still looking uncertain. “I would like to join you. Let me just...grab my lunch.”

Tohru beamed, relief flooding through her body. “Okay!”

“What are the waves saying?” Uo asked Hana, leaning back in her chair. Hana mused for a moment as Sohma ducked down to pull his lunch from his bag.

“I still can’t tell. There’s something...more. Something old.”

Uo’s eyes lit up in that terrible way that Tohru knew meant teasing was on its way. “You think he’s, like, a 30-year-old pretending to be a high schooler?”

“Older than that,” Hana said.

Uo gasped, awful grin widening. “50?”

“50 what?” Sohma sat down next to Uo, lunch in hand. Tohru could feel her face turning pink; if he’d overheard what Uo said-

“50 yen—Hana found a vending machine in the neighborhood that sells Calpis for 50 yen. It’s either a bargain or, like, cursed. Like an urban legend.”

“Oh.” Sohma didn’t seem to know how to react. “I’ve never had Calpis, but my cousin, Haru, really likes it.”

“Do you have a lot of cousins, Sohma?” Tohru asked. “We all know Kyo, and now Haru…”

“Yes,” Sohma said around a bite of katsu. “Our extended family is very large, so I don’t have any immediate cousins, but there are a lot of relatives my age who I’m close to.” He cast his eyes down, and Tohru wondered if he didn’t like to talk about his family.

“That’s so fun!” Tohru said, despite herself. “Growing up it was just me and Mom, so I never had any cousins to play with. I mean, I have cousins, but I’ve never been close with that side of the family…” She trailed off awkwardly, remembering that soon she'd be sharing a house with cousins she didn't know.

“Do you have any siblings?” Hana asked, and Tohru shot her a grateful smile.

Sohma nodded, mouth curling into a grimace. “An older brother.”

“Ooh, really?” Uo asked, that teasing glint back in her eyes. “Do you look alike?”

“Yes,” Sohma sighed, and Tohru thought she heard him mutter, “ Unfortunately .”

“Ha!” Uo rubbed her hands together. “Do you know how crazy the girls around here would get if they knew there was a second, older Prince out there?”

Sohma flushed. “We may look alike but we are...very different people.”

“Different how?” Tohru asked. It was hard to imagine someone out there with Sohma’s face but a completely different personality. Was he mean? Outgoing? Aggressive?

“ Kyon-Kyon !” Uo shouted, tossing her eraser at the other Sohma in the class. “Do you know the Prince’s brother?”

Kyo chucked the eraser back at Uo, a little too hard, but managed to miss. “Don’t throw things at me, woman!” His eyes moved from Uo, to Tohru, then over to Sohma, and a disgruntled frown settled over his features. “What do you want?”

Uo turned in her seat to better face him. “Do you know Sohma’s brother? He’s your cousin, too, right?”

“Ayame?” Kyo asked, spitting out the name with disgust. “He’s an annoying bastard, is what he is. He never shuts up .”

“Really?” Uo cackled, tilting back in her chair. “Tell us more.”

“What the hell? No!” Kyo growled. “Make that idiot next to you tell you about Ayame; it’s his brother.”

Yuki shrugged, bringing rice to his mouth. “He’s not wrong. My brother is loud and inconsiderate.”

Uo laughed again and slapped Sohma on the shoulder. “That’s rough, man!”

Tohru tittered, wondering if she should divert the conversation away from family, when she caught Hana’s gaze pierce over her shoulder. Tohru turned, and saw that Hana was staring at Kyo, who’d gone back to napping against the windowsill. The look in Hana’s eyes was uncertain...confusion, maybe? Intrigue?

“Hey, we got some time before class, right?” Uo asked, leaning over to rummage through her bag. “Who wants to play daihinmin?”

“Oh, that sounds fun!” Tohru said, grateful for the distraction. “Sohma, would you like to play with us?”

Sohma looked vaguely bewildered. “Oh...yes, I would like that. But I don’t know the rules.”

“Don’t worry, I always forget them!” Tohru assured him. “Hana’s good at explaining it.”

Sohma cracked a smile—a true, genuine smile—and nodded. “Sounds fun.”

By the time class started, Tohru was losing miserably, but Sohma was more relaxed than she’d ever seen him before, even as Uo teased him and Hana stared unnervingly. The site made her smile so hard, she thought her face would split in two.

***

Tohru didn’t mean to overhear the fight. She’d left her notebook in class and had run back to get it. But as she headed back to where Hana and Uo waited, she turned a corner and stumbled upon the two Sohma cousins locked in a heated argument. A part of her was curious, and another part worried, so she ducked back behind the corner and listened.

“-doing, talking to her? Are you trying to make Akito mad?”

“Akito can’t get mad if he doesn’t know. Are you going to tell him?”

“Fuck, no!” Kyo hit the wall next to Sohma’s head. “But he’ll find out, he always finds out. You think it’ll stop with him pulling us out of this school? You think he won’t hurt her, just to spite you?”

“I’m not stupid, cat ,” Sohma hissed, grabbing Kyo by the front of his shirt. “I know better than anyone what Akito can and will do. But I’m not going to let fear of him keep me from being happy. Not anymore.”

Kyo growled and aimed a punch towards Sohma’s face. Tohru gasped, but Sohma was quick, and dodged out of the way just in time. There was a loud clang as Kyo’s fist collided with the locker where Sohma’s head had just been.

“If she gets hurt,” he hissed, voice low and deadly calm. “I will kill you, damn rat.”

“If she gets hurt,” Sohma replied. “I’m not the one you should kill. Get your priorities straight.”

Before Kyo could reply, Sohma walked away, head held high. Tohru watched him disappear, then saw Kyo sink to the ground, cradling his hand. The locker he’d punched was dented, and Tohru could see specks of red forming on Kyo’s knuckles. Despite herself, Tohru hurried forward, sinking to her knees in front of Kyo.

“Are you okay?” She asked, reaching out to look at Kyo’s hand. He snatched it away, face growing pale.

“How much did you hear?” He demanded, eyes narrowing. “How much?!”

“A-ah, well,” Tohru pulled her hands back and settled them on her lap. “Something about a person named Akito? And you’re afraid Akito will hurt someone else? I didn’t really understand what was going on, but you two were really angry about it…”

Kyo’s shoulders sagged, and he seemed to deflate. “It doesn’t involve you, so don’t go poking your nose into places it doesn’t belong, okay?”

“Y-yes! Okay,” Tohru nodded.

“I’m serious,” Kyo said. “Akito...Akito is dangerous. Me n’ Yuki can handle him, so don’t try to get involved with this. You’ll just get hurt.”

Tohru couldn’t help but feel warmth towards Kyo. He was worried about her. She’d thought he had a softer side to him that he didn’t show to other people, and she was right. “Okay,” Tohru repeated. “But the person you’re worried about, will she be okay? Should we go to the police?”

Kyo almost smiled. “Nah, she’ll be okay. I’m watching out for her, so she’s got nothing to worry about.”

“That’s sweet,” Tohru said, beaming. “She’s lucky to have her own guard dog, huh?”

“Cat.”

“Huh?”

There was a light flush on Kyo’s face as he muttered, “I’m more of a cat than a dog.”

Tohru laughed. “I can see that! You’re skittish around people, until you warm up to them. And you nap in class a lot .”

Kyo huffed and gently bopped Tohru’s head with his good hand. “Yeah, yeah. You better get going, or wave girl and the yankee will tear apart the school looking for you.”

“Oh, you’re right! They’re probably worried I’ve been gone so long!” Tohru stood and brushed off her skirt. “I have bandaids in my bag, if you want to come with me. We could patch up your hand.”

Kyo waved her off. “Nah, don’t worry about it. I heal quick.”

“Okay. See you later, Sohma,” she said, waving as she began to turn.

“Kyo.”

“Hmm?” Tohru paused and looked back. “What?”

“Kyo,” he repeated, not meeting her eyes. “Call me Kyo.”

“Okay,” she said. “Okay. See you later... Kyo .”

Tohru ran off to meet her friends, heart feeling light. Maybe, just maybe, she’d befriended more than one Sohma boy today.

#fruits basket fanfiction #fruits basket #fruits basket spoilers #furuba manga spoilers #yuki & tohru #anna writes things #x-posting from ao3

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everlarkficexchange · 5 years

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In The End

Written by: @alliswell21

Prompt 76: historical au where katniss and peeta are betrothed since birth and peeta’s mom is actually nice. they grow up to be best friends neither of them knowing about the betrothal until something breaks their friendship and they become enemies. when they finally turn the right age, they find out about the betrothal and are forced to marry and consummate their marriage even if they despise each other. [submitted by anonymous]

Tags/warnings: Rated Mature for Adult Situations and some description of injuries.

Historical AU; Arranged Marriage; Friends to Enemies to Lovers; Canon Typical Violence; Anger and Hurt; Misunderstandings; As usual, a simple conversation would’ve fixed everything, but Nooo!; Angst; Smut; Nobody dies, so I guess that’s cool; this story away from me, word count sits at less than 20k… sorry; un-betaed, all mistakes are mine, and there will be a million of them because it was hastily edited. I apologize.

Thank you @xerxia31 and @javistg for another great year of awesome prompts and fics. Thank you Anon for an awesome prompt!

KPKPKPKPKPKPKPKP

Mr and Mrs Everdeen huddle together in their horse drawn carriage, traveling home after a taxing day with family, at a Will reading. She holds their brand new baby girl to her chest, he wraps his arms protectively around both his wife and infant daughter.

“Do you think we are doing the right thing?” Mrs Everdeen asks her husband tearfully. “It just feels so drastic.”

“Oh my darling, think of it as ensuring a future for little Katniss. Both our families together, can cultivate a happy childhood for the children; provide a safe place for them to grow up loving each other; invest time and create good memories for them. They will be alright. Things will work out. We have to trust we’ll do everything in our power to make sure the will turn out to be well adjusted adults and live in harmony when time comes.”

“You think we can do it?” She asks with hope in her voice, tightening her hold on her baby.

“I really do, darling. Little Peeta and baby Katniss will have a wonderful childhood full of love, they will grow up together and their futures will be secure. We will make it happen!”

————-

The first raindrop splashes Peeta’s cheek like a cool kiss from the clouds. Another one lands on Katniss’ arm startling her. Both children look quizzically up at the open blue sky; there isn’t a single sign of bad weather except for a very dark, single cloud drifting slowly towards them.

A new handful of droplets fall on the kids’ shoulders, foreheads and chests. They look at each other in wonder, eyes wide open and smiles curling their lips. Before they can utter a word to one another, the one gray cloud breaks into a downpour directly above them, soaking them both to the bones in a matter of seconds.

The children scream like seven year olds do when pelted by icy cold rain, and take off running hand in hand back to the house ahead of the meadow where the little friends have been playing in the tall grasses.

Back in the house the little friends rush through the kitchen doors talking loudly and gasping for air after a all the running.

“Children! I thought I sent you both to play outside. Don’t be making a ruckus now, baby Primrose is trying to nap.” Chastises Nanny Coin, a severe woman with icy gray eyes and matching hair in a bun.

The woman never smiles, and despises when children laugh, so they never mind taking their play time outside, or better yet, to the Mellark home, where warm cookies always wait.

“But it’s raining!” Katniss protests, “and I can hear Prim screaming from the nursery!”

It’s true, little Primrose cries disconsolate upstairs in the bedrooms, and Katniss mama can’t keep her tired eyes open. The nanny isn’t nearly as soft as mama, so Prim cries on, louder and louder. Katniss worries her baby sister will hurt her throat or get a headache; Katniss’ head always hurt after crying too long.

“What should we do?” she whispers to her best friend, Peeta.

He always has solutions to her problems, and his ideas usually come quickly. But Peeta is the baby in his own family, so he doesn’t know how to help this time around.

“You could sing.” He suggests shyly.

He hasn’t shared his secret with anybody, but his little heart swells every time his best friends sings. He’s sworn to himself time and again once he’s big, he’ll marry her, so she sing him lullabies to sleep every night.

Katniss purses her tiny, pink lips. “I can’t do that without Papa! Distract the nanny for me, will you? I have an idea!”

“How?” Peeta groans trying to keep with her anyway.

Her girly legs are longer and faster than his stubby ones, he doesn’t understand how’s it possible she’s taller and more athletic than him, he’s a whole six months older than her! He’s doughy around the belly, where she’s lithe and nimble. They look so much like opposites physically, she’s olive skinned with hair as dark as ink, and his fair with rosy cheeks, wavy blonde hair and blue eyes like a summer sky.

Peeta takes after his mother, and Katniss takes after her father, yet, they share a single great great Grandfather on their mothers side. It’s confusing to them at times, because they should be cousins like their mothers, but their families insist they’re not.

“I don’t know!” Katniss says annoyedly over her shoulder, smacking her friend’s arm with one of her twin long braids. “Draw something funny on the wall or something. That’ll drive Nanny Coin crazy!”

Peeta balks at the preposterous idea, but follows suit without a hesitation once in front of the nursery door. Katniss slips inside the room where the wailing baby lays in her crib, while the nanny rebukes little Peeta for being naughty with that charcoal knob of his. He places his hand on the woman’s apron, leaving behind a perfectly imprint of his hand in sooty dark. Nanny Coin screeches, and a crazy chase ensues while the woman demands Peeta stays still for a good spanking.

Katniss peeks out the door biting her lip guiltily, she didn’t want her friend to get in trouble, but the stain on the apron was completely intentional by the way his blue eyes sparked in her direction right before he did it. Katniss hurries to her sister, a small bundle of fully functional lungs that keeps turning purple in the face the longer she screams.

“Hush, Little Duck, big sister’s here! Do you want to hear a story? This one is from papa, he’s the best storyteller ever, but he now works in an office now, it’s safer than working in the mines where the sun don’t shine, but it’s hard work and someone who cares for the miners had to do it, or at least that’s what he tells everyone… anywho… have you heard about the Mockingjays?”

Prim doesn’t stop crying, so Katniss picks her up from the firm crib and loosens the blankets the infant is swaddled in. Prim’s eyes open a fraction to look up, then she calms fractionally, listening close.

“Mockingjays are little songbirds, their plumage is black as night, with specks of white in the under wing. They’ve a crest they get from their father, the Jabberjay. He’s just a chattering one, always repeating what he hears others talk about, he’s a big gossip if you ask me. Mama always says that gossiping is not polite, so you and I shan’t do it, but it’s alright for jabberjays. The singing voice of the mockingjays comes from their mommy, the always delightful Mockingbird…”

Katniss keeps taking in a soothing voice, bouncing the babe in her arms as she walks in a wide loop around the room, while unbeknownst to her, her papa who arrived home just in time to save little Peeta from a spanking, looks on from the door, with a warm, hand on Peeta’s chubby shoulder. The little boy thinks it again, watching his friend cooing to the baby, he’s going to grow up to marry Katniss Everdeen, then she’ll tell him bedtime stories lovingly!

——————

“But why can’t I go sit with Peeta during his lessons?” Katniss asks grumpily at her mother. “It’s the same tutor anyway!”

“Because you’re starting your own classes, darling.” Says Mama bouncing little Primrose on her lap while Katniss gets fitted for her brand new dress, a gift from Papa, for the first day with her tutor at home. “You’re curriculum is different than Peeta’s; Professor Abernathy has created a schedule fitting for a lady, just for you.”

Katniss doesn’t understand why suddenly she needs private schooling. She was doing great at the public schoolhouse. Sure, it was a single class for all the children of town regardless of age, but Katniss loved it there and her teacher, Miss Lavinia. No matter how hectic school was, the young teacher managed to carve one o one time with each of her students at least for a few minutes daily.

Katniss doesn’t think it’s fair she has be schooled at home on her own while all her friends from the schoolhouse had fun in class— except for Peeta of course. Peeta had never gone to the schoolhouse. His family l, the Mellarks, are bakers and the wealthiest people in town. They could afford private tutors for all three of their sons.

Peeta always complains of how lonely and boring it is at home without classmates. His siblings are there, but they never chat during lulls in class. It wasn’t that he didn’t socialize with peers from town, Peeta’s the friendliest, most talkative boy Katniss ever known, but he envies Katniss for spending time independently from everyone, he thinks the little girl is very brave in that regard, and that makes Katniss very proud of herself.

A few times a week Mrs. Mellark, Peeta’s mother, kindly invites Katniss to sit in Peeta’s piano lessons or in his art class— art is Peeta’s favorite subject by far— But lately, they’ve started teaching him more applied subjects like algebra, social sciences, statistics, and economics, and his tutor has insinuated more than once, that having the two children together in the class is a distraction to both.

Katniss is ten now, Mama and Papa decided it’s time to start getting a more dedicated education for her future standing. They hired Ms. Trinket as governess, and Ms. Trinket convinced Profesor Abernathy to tutor both children two days a week.

Professor Abernathy’s an eccentric drunk, with the highest credentials in the country. Mrs. Mellark was very impressed with the man, and profusely thanked the Everdeens for putting so much effort into Katniss’ education when she learned they hired his services as well.

Katniss is puzzled about the exchange between her parents and Peeta’s mother, but the boy only shrugs noncommittal when his little friend muses about it.

“Why would your folks care about my education?” Ponders Katniss staring at her friend who’s absorbed into his drawings. “It doesn’t add up!” Exclaims Katniss pursing her lips and crossing her arms over her chest. “What do you reckon, Peeta?”

The boy says nothing.

“Peeta,” Katniss insists, but when she gets the same answer, she stands from her plush chair and stomps unladylike to shake her friend’s shoulder. “Pee-ta!” Katniss pulls too harshly on her friend’s arm, causing him to scratch up his sketch.

“Hey! What gives?” He cries in aggravation. “Why did you do that for?” He asks turning pink in the face.

But Katniss barely hears him. She’s enthralled, staring at Peeta’s leather bound book, where the most vivid images are plastered page over page. She picks up the book and starts leafing through it.

“You made all this?” She asks in awe, staring with wide eyes at the different portraits in the pages. There’s little Prim with her pet goat, Lady; there’s also Professor Abernathy, with a better groomed head of hair than she remembers while the rest of him looks as dull as ever. Then there’s the town’s church and the graveyard next to it. And then, there’s her… all over the book. In different stages of completion.

Drawings of her braid, or her eyes; drawings of her scowling with her arms crossed on her chest petulantly; drawings of her smiling at Prim; there’s one where she’s wagging her finger menacingly at a raccoon that had tried to pull Peeta’s wavy hair one day from a low branch. The raccoon looks terrified of the little miss.

Peeta tears the book out of Katniss hands and shoves it behind his back quickly. His cheeks are blotchy red with embarrassment.

“That’s private!” He tells his friend mortified and upset.

Katniss scowls, but after a moment, hangs her head contritely. “I’m sorry for looking without asking, Peeta.” She looks up at him then. “But the pictures where too pretty not to. I should have asked you first. I won’t do it again.”

Peeta stares at her deflated form for a second, then his extended pinkie finger materializes under her nose.

“I’ll show you my book, if you ask the next time you want to see my drawings, Pinkie promise?”

Katniss smiles at her best friend and links her pinkie with his. “Pinkie promise!”

“You wanna spit on it to make it unbreakable?”

“Eww! No. We are not eight anymore. Spitting is for children, Peeta.”

—————-

Prim falls in the meadow behind the Everdeen home and scraps her knees while trying to catch up with Katniss and Peeta, as they run around flying Peeta’s new kite.

Prim is sniffling pitifully, “Tell me the story of the mo-ingjay and the Winnow…”

“The Mockingjay and the Willow, again?” Asks Katniss making a face.

“Katniss, remember you said you wanted to help. Telling your sister a story while I clean her knees is the best way you can help me right now.” Says mama kindly, but not giving much room for protests.

“Very well,” Katniss sighs, “So there once was a sad willow tree in the middle of a field—“

“An island!” Prim protests crossing her arms brattily. “Last time you said it was an island. Start it over!”

“Ugh!” Katniss groans, “How am I supposed to remember every single detail of this tale?”

Peeta taps his friend’s shoulder, lifting a small hardcover book he carries around to doodle on. “I can write it down while you are both here to keep all the details faithful to Prim’s memory.”

Katniss grins at her best friend. He sets to write down the story, word by word, and once he’s alone in his room before bed at home, he pulls the book out one more time and starts drawing drafts of a small crested bird hopping along the limbs of a willow tree. He works on the sketches until sleep pulls him under.

—————

“Animi est plus fortis quam musculus.”

“Ugh… that was pitiful, Sweetheart. Concentrate and read it again, without wiggling your tongue in your mouth so much.”

Katniss glares at her tutor from behind the lectern he insists she uses when reciting her Latin, reading poetry or simply asking questions.

“Animi est plus fortis quam musculus.” She repeats twisting her tongue extra sharply, just to be contrary.

“Better!” Calls Professor Abernathy checking his golden pocket watch. “Alright, now, what does that phrase mean, Miss Everdeen? And do hurry up with that answer, we only have five more minutes before that wench comes to fetch me.”

Abernathy and Ms. Trinket hated each other the moment they met for Katniss’ first class. Watch them interact was the most entertaining thing Katniss had ever seen two adults do.

The girl muses for a moment, scratching the back of her leg with the toe of her shoe, just because she knows Ms. Trinket would be horrified by the act.

“The mind is stronger than the muscle?”

“Mightier, but yes. You got it right, Sweetheart! The mind is mightier than the muscle.” Says Abernathy giving his pupil a rare smile that makes the muscles in his face ache from disuse. “Never forget it, Sweetheart, and you’ll be better off than many.”

The professor was about to give his student a list of things to do to prepare for the their next lesson in two days time, but as clockwork, Ms. Trinket knocks on the door, and lets herself in without invitation just to announce it’s time for Katniss to join her mother in the drawing room for sewing.

Katniss suppresses a groan. At least during tutoring hours she gets to speak her mind to some extent. Abernathy wants her to think for herself, and told her father he was going to teach her Latin, poetry, Greek and Roman mythology, and math, like he taught her male peers. But she was still a girl, and society dictates she needs training in a preconceived set of skills such as sewing, knitting, and hosting.

Katniss follows Ms.Trinket almost dragging her feet on the carpet. They pass the drawing room without entering, which puzzles Katniss greatly.

“Ms. Trinket, please, was I not supposed to go into the drawing room to sit with my mother?”

“You will, after you change into a fresh outfit. You have visitors today, I’m afraid.” Ms. Trinket informs her charge.

“Who’s visiting?” Katniss asks eagerly.

“Miss Everdeen, mind your manners. It is not very polite to badger someone with questions while they’re in the middle of relaying information to you, child.” Chides Ms. Trinket.

Not until Katniss gives a very winded apology, does Ms.Trinket finish telling her that she’s to have tea in the parlor with Mrs. Mellark and her youngest son, Master Peeta.

Katniss smile could split her face in half. She tries to hide the spring in her step the same way she hid her slouch earlier. Ms. Trinket is not very into demonstrations of emotions, and everything has to be so measured it’s a chore on itself. Professor Abernathy often says that Ms. Trinket sucks the joy out of life. He may be onto something.

Nevertheless, Katniss doesn’t argue when she’s put in the puffiest dress in her wardrobe, with three petticoats and the scratchiest stockings she’s ever worn. Ms. Trinket laments there’s no time to do anything new with Katniss’ hair, which makes Katniss scowl. She likes her braids. Peeta told her once he loves drawing them for whatever reason; she assumes that means he likes her braids too, so there’s no reason to change them.

During tea, Peeta and Katniss are made to sit still, in opposite chairs from one another, with a tea table laden with finger foods between them. Is the boriest play date yet, but they can speak with their eyes, and Peeta’s facial expressions keeps threatening to make Katniss snort tea through her nose.

“Peeta, Katniss, you both will be thirteen this year, and it will be highly inappropriate for you two to be alone, together, in a room.” Says mama Everdeen after some inane conversation.

“Why would it be inappropriate? Are we not allowed to play in the meadow either?” Asks Katniss with wide eyes.

Peeta looks equally troubled.

“You are just not children anymore, and things need to change just a little. You will still see each other often, only in other settings.” Explains Mrs. Mellark kindly.

“Peeta will come for tea with Katniss twice a week, and either Ms. Trinket or Professor Abernathy will sit with you both while you have an amiable conversation.” Says Mama glancing periodically at Mrs Mellark for support.

“Also, I’m afraid that for now on, there won’t be any touching, or sharing a sofa. You two may walk around the gardens with your chaperones, and as for games you can play checkers, cards or chess.”

Katniss groans before she can stop herself. Ignoring her mother’s glare she complains, “But Peeta always wins chess and checkers!”

“And the gardens aren’t fun if you can’t explore it without worrying about staying clean, so, do we have to dress so stuffy all the time now as well?” Peeta asks frowning.

“There will be no silly, childish games. why you two are old enough to converse on literature you’ve read or even read aloud to each other. It’s time you started doing more mature things, you know.” Says Mrs. Mellark drinking from her teacup.

Peeta raises his hand half way. “Why grow up when we can be out in the meadow flying kites, or sunbathing, or even better, doing things we actually enjoy, like sitting on the grass barefooted or chasing frogs in the creek?”

“Peeta, dear, your mother just explained you are not a children anymore. It’s time you both learn how to act like proper teens in society.” Says Mama Everdeen stoically. “You both have grown beautifully, and it’s time to leave childhood behind for the grown up version of yourself we’ve strived to reach.”

Neither Katniss nor Peeta quite understand this concept, but they still enjoy spending time with each other and figure is best to not to argue and let the mother get their way for now.

As predictable as it is, the youngsters favorite chaperone is Professor Abernathy. They get to sit on the Persian rug on the floor next to each other and leaf through books together; usually Peeta shows his sketches and doodles, and Katniss thinks up different scenarios for him to draw.

One day, Professor Abernathy yawns, glaring at the children holding up their stomachs and covering their mouths with charcoal stained fingers, while a peel of laughter wakes him up from a nap.

“If you two want me to keep pretending I’m supervising this silly little dates, you have to do something constructive with your time to show for. I can say I’m teaching you urchins something valuable, and you too would be able to spend time without the governess from hades poking her head in the door every five minutes.”

“We do not know how to pretend we are working on a project, Professor.” States Peeta slowly, fishing for ideas almost.

Professor Abernathy grunts, massaging the bridge of his nose. “Alright. What is it that you two do when you crowd over that book of yours?” Asks the man tiredly. His eyes urging them to think, use their brains if they had one.

“We make stories that Katniss writes down,” Says Peeta.

“Then Peeta illustrate them for me.” Katniss adds, her mind already working on an idea.

“Well, can you find something educational you can substitute for the stories?” Offers the professor.

Peeta nods his head in understanding, a slow smile forming in his lips. “Like a scientific journal?”

“I think I have the perfect thing to work on!” Says Katniss delighted, “Why it will require us to spend a great deal of time outside!” She claps.

Both teenagers brainstorm ideas on their new project, settling for Katniss idea of a book about plants. Her Papa knows all about edible plants, and her mother knows about medicinal ones, but nobody has ever thought of putting the knowledge into paper for later generations. There’s a variety of plants in the Everdeen’s garden— both edible and medicinal— so all Katniss and Peeta need to do is take a stroll outside and look at greenery. Even Primrose is welcome to join.

The friends set out to work on their book; Peeta draws the plants with painstaking details, splurging in colorful pastels, more expensive than his usual charcoals; then Katniss writes in careful cursive the name, physical descriptions and a small explanation about the specific plant, next to Peeta’s drawing. They seal the finished pages with salt water.

Mister Everdeen walks into the parlor one day while the two friends are working on their book. He sees the vivid picture of a dandelion both in seed and in bloom. The drawing is so detailed he can see each individual petal of the sun ray yellow crown, and each feathered-like seed pod. The leafy part is so lifelike, Mister Everdeen makes a double take to confirm it is indeed colored into the page and not pasted there. The roots in the drawing even have a few clumps of dirt falling from the base where the plant was supposed to be buried in the ground.

“Say, Children, may I take a look at your book?” Papa Everdeen asks over Katniss and Peeta’s shoulders.

The two friends stare at each other stunned for a quick moment, but Peeta finally hands over the book open to the page he’s currently sketching.

“This is remarkable work, children. What’s the title?” Katniss’ Papa asks leafing through the book with a smile of wonder on his face.

“Title, Papa?” Asks Katniss cocking her head, so her single long braid hangs like a rope over her shoulder. Now that she’s thirteen, double braids seem too kiddie.

“Well, every best seller book has a catchy name.” Says mister Everdeen giving his daughter a wink.

Peeta’s lips purse sideways, “Maybe ‘a guide to herbs’?” He proposes.

“Too stiff.” Counters the girl squinting. “Our tome is more like a… dictionary for plants.”

“A herb dictionary? How clever.” Says Papa kindly.

“A Herbonary?” Peeta jests, chuckling.

“Very clever indeed, Peeta, m’boy!”

“I like it too! The Herbonary it is!” Katniss beams at her best friend who promptly turns scarlet on the cheeks.

Mister Everdeen notices the boy’s blush, and smiles fondly, turning away from him to not cause his embarrassment to deepen.

“Have you consider selling copies for money? We could go with this to the printing press and make a nice nest egg for your future? I bet there’s a market for it, and you can come up with a pen name you can publish it under… how about P.K. Everlark?”

The two teens exchange stunned stares.

“We… have no intentions on selling our book, Mister Everdeen. This is merely a past time we concocted to be able to play outside when Miss Trinket chaperones us.” Peeta explains truthfully, but Katniss throws him a warning glare an a well aimed elbow to the ribs.

Mister Everdeen laughs joyfully at the boy’s candidness and his daughter’s reaction. “Thank you for your honesty, son. And I promise I won’t let slip this information to the mothers or miss Trinket. Your secret is safe with me,” he winks at Katniss for good measure. “Now, I’ll let you both be,” he says glancing in Professor Abernathy’s direction with a smirk. “Don’t wake your professor, he looks like he needs the rest.” The man saunters out of the parlor still smirking.

Peeta and Katniss giggle to one another.

———

“Pssst… Peeta! Over here!” Katniss hisses lowly as soon as her best friend walks past her hiding spot.

“Katniss?” He calls quietly, looking left and right before taking a huge step sideways, as inconspicuous as a sixteen year old boy with his broad physique can move while hiding behind a heavy curtain. “What are you doing here? Your mother is about to hit the roof looking for you!” Peeta whispers, squinting in an effort to actually focus on his friend’s face, but it’s no use in the dim wrong side of the curtain.

“Well, if she wanted me to be part of this party, she should’ve asked me what I wanted to do and who I wanted to do it with, before throwing this monstrosity of a celebration. Why she didn’t even listened to my choice in outfit!”

Peeta smiles wryly. He can practically hear Katniss’ scowl. “Really?” He asks convinced she’s exaggerating. “Did she ban your riding trousers? Did she wrangled you out of a cotton green dress?”

He tried not to snicker, because the cotton dress incident was still a point of contention between Katniss and her mother. Mrs. Everdeen was dismayed to learn her daughter wore an A line, button down, forest green cotton dress to a church cookout the previous summer. Katniss said the dress was comfortable for the stuffy heat, and her mother said it was plain and beneath her station, she went as far as telling her she was not to wear the cotton outfit outside the house, which Katniss tried to go around it a handful of times before grudgingly giving up the garment.

Katniss groans. “It’s worse than anything I’ve ever worn! I’m swimming in a sea of salmon color taffeta. It’s so itchy and big, I feel like a walking, pink marshmallow.”

“Come now, Katniss. It cannot be that bad. Did you really expected your folks not to throw you the biggest ball of the century for your Sweet Sixteen?” He cajols lowly.

His head is so close to Katniss’ she can feel his breath— warm and dense— against her cheek. She’s momentarily speechless at the strange swoop in her stomach at his proximity, but she’s almost used to this occurrence by now. It keeps happening every time he’s close. It’s been like this for the last year or so. The only thing she can do is shake her head stubbornly.

“Mother knows I’m no good at making friends or saying something in public. Why does she insist on this waste of time?” She whines.

Peeta chuckles as quietly as he can. “It’s alright, Kitty.” He said, using a nickname he very seldom let escape him. “I’ll speak for the both of us, and I’ll make friends with everyone and then introduce you to them so you can win them over as well.”

“Win them over? Are you as daft as my mother? I’m terrible at socializing, Peet!” She waves her arms, perturbing the curtain.

“Hey! You’re going to betray our hiding place!” Peeta hisses.

“Katniss? Are you in here?” Comes Prim’s muffled voice at the other side of the thick material.

“Ugh! Come on, we’ve been found!” Katniss grouses, and grips Peeta’s wrist to pull him out of hiding, except it’s not his wrist her fingers wrap around with force.

Peeta gasps painfully— in more than the obvious way— while Katniss wrenches her hand away from her friends mishandled crotch.

“I’m so sorry!” She chokes out from behind her hand. “I’m so very sorry, Peeta, please forgive me!”

“It’s alright, Kitty,” he coughs raggedly, right before Prim steps behind the curtain with them. “Having offspring is overrated anyway.” He gasps.

“Oh!” She smacks his chest when he chuckles, “Stop! Here I am all worried about you…”

“Why? What happened?” Prim inquires curiously, “Also, Mama is going to ground until you’re forty five if you don’t emerge from hiding right away.” The girl says brightly. “Peet, are you sweating?”

But Katniss is already throwing the curtain aside and making sure she’s not manhandling anyone’s family jewels this time.

As soon as Peeta emerges, Katniss gives him another apologetic glance.

“What happened to you?” Prim asks again noticing just how awkward Peeta’s standing.

“Fine. I’m fine.” He huffs.

“You don’t sound very fine. I couldn’t look you up, in case you need medical assistance.”

“It won’t be necessary, I just need a drink of fresh water and I’ll be right as day.”

“If you’re sure…” Primrose shrugs, “Oh well, I’m going to taste the adorable french foods mama commissioned for the party! There’s so much chocolate! Ta-ta!” The young girl is gone as soon as she came, leaving Katniss glowering at her uncomfortable shoes.

She hates the how they pinch her toes.

Peeta on the other hand, is finally able to take a good look at his friend, and is left momentarily speechless at the sight.

He gulps his saliva loudly enough it ensnares Katniss’ attention. She narrows her gray eyes at him.

“Are you sure you’re right? You seem unwell.”

“You’re… beautiful!” He finally breathes out. He can’t remember his best friend ever wearing makeup before today, and although is a very subtle layer of lipgloss and barely noticeable rouge, he can tell is there, and he can’t stop gawking.

Katniss blushes. “Peeta, you’re staring.” She mumbles averting her eyes.

The words snap him back to his senses, and he finally forces his eyes from her pretty face. “I’m sorry.” He mutters.

Katniss sighs. “It’s alright. I know I look ridiculous. I mean—“

“No! You’re not ridiculous at all! You’re… pretty. I mean, it’s different but… um… very nice.” He stutters rubbing the back of his neck nervously, his eyes twitching between her and the rest of the room.

“Nice? Please! I’m a pink nightmare!”

“Well… I can concur that salmon is not a hue I would chose personally, but if I squint really hard, the material looks more like orange, and you know how partial I am to orange.” Peeta tries to make his friend smile.

“This is horrible, Peeta.” Katniss laments dramatically. “Can you hide me?”

Peeta chuckles and throws one arm around her shoulders, pulling her to him for a hug. “I can try. How’s this?” He asks, his voice deep and low makes a shiver go down her back, and her tummy warms up.

Katniss breathes Peeta’s manly scent deeply. “This is loads better.” She mumbles burying her face into his dinner jacket.

Peeta wraps both arms protectively around his friend. They sway to the music coming from the parlor, where a string quartet plays soft, ambient tunes.

“I made you cheese buns.” Peeta whispers quietly into her hair.

Katniss squeezes him into her arms. “You’re the best! Thank you!”

She lifts her head to kiss him gratefully on the cheek, but he lowers his face at the same time to tell her a funny anecdote about his brother’s attempt at stealing one of the buns. Her lips land halfway over his, and they freeze in place.

Peeta’s blue eyes almost bulge out of the sockets. Katniss’ face burns in mortification, but after a fraction of a second staring at each other in complete and utter horror, they both move at the same time, to meet their lips in the middle.

A voice in the distance breaks the spell. “Miss Everdeen, where are you now?”

The two teens jump apart as soon as Miss Trinket’s voice reaches them.

“Come on, Kitty, I slaved over half of those hors d'oeuvres. The least you can do is stuff your face full of them, and ruin your taffeta dress in the process.” Peeta says dragging Katniss away from the upcoming governess as fast as they can slip away.

Katniss is breathless when they arrive to the canapés table— from the kisses and the haste in which they moved— her eyes are wide and her mouth is dry. She doesn’t move an inch away from Peeta. She can’t, even if she wanted to; she’s stuck to him by an invisible force, much like magnets.

Everything would be alright if they hadn’t run straight into Peeta’s mother at the table, overseeing the waiters placing fresh plates of puff pastries, crackers with generous dollops of caviar and little foie gras mounds sprinkled with parsley on a bed of cherry tomatoes. Katniss’ stomach protests. What ever happened to sandwiches?

There’s a table with soups on the other side of the room, she wishes they could head there now.

“Oh, good. Peeta, you found Katniss!” Mrs. Mellark says glancing at the teens. “My, my! You look lovely tonight dear! Happiest of birthdays, and a very sweet sixteen, Katniss, darling!” The woman hugs Katniss effusively, and the girl can barely breathe of mortification.

“Oh, but look at you! I knew Ms. Portia was the right choice for your dress. Peeta, my darling, would you be a dear and escort the birthday girl to the dance floor so the ball can officially begin? Nobody can dance until the debutant has had her first dance of the night, you know.” Mrs. Mellark’s bright blue eyes rest on Katniss’ burning face with fondness. “Go on, dance the night away you two. You’re only sixteen once!” Peeta’s mother cooes nudging them away to the dance floor.

“Katniss shoes are pinching her toes.” Says Peeta over his shoulder trying to get out of dancing. He knows his best friend hates to be the center of attention, plus he is as graceful on the dance floor as an enraged bull in a china shop.

“Then just do the one song and go sit afterwards, but truly, you two need to get in there… now!” The woman says with finality, and to make matters worse, Mrs. Everdeen spots them right then, and starts coming towards them.

“Peeta…” Katniss whispers.

“It’s alright. I’ve got you. If the shoes are really terrible, toss them away and dance in your stockings.”

Katniss looks up at Peeta in time for him to give her a wide spin in the middle of the dance floor, and suddenly the music starts anew.

Mrs. Everdeen and Miss Trinket— who’s just joined the hunt for the reluctant dancers— are forced to stay at the edge of the ring of partygoers, watching the birthday girl and her escort dance.

Unexpectedly, Katniss and Peeta dance the night away, laughing and eating everything in the room, having a good ol’ time. Her uncomfortable shoes lay forgotten under a chair by the punch table, and the owner doesn’t miss them one bit all night.

Peeta intertwines his fingers with his dance partner and only lets go after he kisses her cheek good night.

———

“Father is sending me and my brothers abroad.” Says Peeta agitated a week after Katniss’ sweet sixteen party..

“How long?” Katniss asks under her breath. Miss Trinket clears her throat obnoxiously behind them. Katniss glares in turn, but faces ahead, pretending she’s interested in any of the flowers in the garden.

“A year.” Peeta answers mechanically. “He wants us to attend some college courses, get some worldly experience; see how life is in foreign country and whatnot.” Peeta looks up at her beseechingly. “I don’t want to go. We have never been separated that long before.”

Miss Trinket harumps again. “Dears, it’s impolite to murmur while there’s a third party with you.”

“Then by all means, Miss Trinket, will you be so kind to give me and my dearest of friends, a so much craved privacy, so he can tell me what’s troubling him without having to speak in hushed tones?” Katniss practically growls.

“Well, I’ve never!” The governess is in the process of snatching Katniss, arm to drag her back into the house, when Mister Everdeen happens into the yard to save the situation.

“Ah! Miss Trinket excuse my interruption,” He bestows a blinding smile on the woman who simply nods and half curtsies.

“No at all, sir. Please, join us.” Says Miss Trinket affably.

After nodding gratefully, the man completely ignores the governess. “Peeta, m’boy, I heard from your father about the exciting opportunity you and your brothers have been presented with. I understand you four leave for port the day after tomorrow?”

Katniss’ breath catches. Her head swivels smacking Peeta’s shoulder with her thick braid. “So soon? You didn’t say you were leaving so soon!” She accuses.

“I… was about to when…” his blue eyes travel to Miss Trinket showing every ounce of annoyance he’s feeling, “never mind that. I’m sorry. I’m afraid today I came to say goodbye for a while.”

Katniss is to the brink of tears.

“Mmm… the day is so warm and nice though,” comments Mister Everdeen, taking a deep breath and looking at the sky above then in awe, “Why don’t you two take the horses out for a ride? Then master Peeta can join us for supper.”

“I wouldn’t want to impose—“

“Nonsense. Miss Trinket will see to it that your mothers are informed of the dinner plans while you’re out riding. Have fun, and don’t break any bones.” Mr. Everdeen winks at his daughter, “Miss Trinket?” He nods at the lady and let’s his long legs carry him inside the house.

“Well, I guess propriety is out the window then.” Huffs miss Trinket. “By all means, go on your jolly horseback ride. Just be sure to be back here in thirty minutes to wash up for supper.”

The two friends grin at each other, while Miss Trinket mutters under her breath heading to the kitchen door from the garden.

“Come on then!” Katniss urges taking Peeta’s hand in hers.

They ride for five minutes before finding a clearing in the woods they like and stopping to sit together on the grass.

They talk and abuse Effie Trinket for her aggravating meddling. “As if we’d do something inappropriate!”

“Hogwash!”

They prove her right a second later, when Peeta suddenly can’t hold back any longer and lunges forward, catching Katniss’ face in his hands and kissing her fervently on the lips for a solid minute without breathing at all.

His hands are still cradling her face. The fingers of one of her hands twine with his; the fingers of her free hand start carding through his hair, pushing it from his eyes.

“Am I being too bold?” He asks quietly leaving delicate kisses on the side of her face, down her jaw.

“No. You’re being the right amount of bold. Stop talking and kiss me some more.”

Peeta chuckles, and obeys.

“I’ll write to you everyday,” he says against the delicate skin under her ear.

“Mmm… I’ll write once a month if I can muster any words to put pen to paper.” She sighs.

Peeta smiles to that. “Fibber! I bet you’ll be keeping a journal, so you don’t miss a story on any given day.”

Her arms go around his neck. “Maybe you’re right. We will see.”

Peeta lays her on her back, on top of his discarded riding coat, and words cease to matter until time comes to get back to the Everdeens for supper. And what a chore it is to temp down their need to stay wrapped up in each other, after so many kisses on the grass.

“You’ll wait for me to return, won’t you? You won’t be kissing other boys while I pine away abroad?”

Katniss smiles against his lips, “I won’t, but you have to promise the same,” she lifts her between them, her pinky finger extended and her eyebrows arched. “You won’t go breaking some foreign girl’s heart and coming home engaged to a stranger.”

Peeta chuckles, but hooks his own pinky finger with hers to seal the promise. “I can assure you, my heart will remain in Panem, until I can come back to claim again.”

“Good! We have an accord then.” Her fingers caress his cheek sweetly.

“Seems we do!” He kisses her one last time.

———

The year is up, and true to their word, Katniss and Peeta never stop their correspondence until the very last day of his journey abroad.

She’s eagerly waiting for his arrival, counting down the days, the hours and minutes. There’s so much to tell him! So many new people to introduce him to, like her new next door neighbors, the Hawthornes.

Katniss really hopes Peeta gets along with her new neighbor boy, Gale Hawthorne, she befriended him and likes him a good deal despite he’s broody disposition; the young man proved to be a great hunting partner. Peeta isn’t much for hunting, he rather spend time fishing in the lake, so Katniss hopes the two boys can find something in common to bond over, so they can all spend time together.

Her mind wanders away from her to thoughts of spending time with just Peeta… her heart beats wildly and her cheeks warm up.

Now that she’s seventeen, maybe Papa will agree she’s old enough to be courted, and Peeta has hinted repeatedly he would like nothing more than officially ask permission to call on her as more than her childhood friend. She figures, in a way, they’ve been practicing for courtship all those years having tea with a chaperone breathing down their necks; she wonders if Peeta gets permission to court her properly, they could skip the six month to a year recommend engagement period, and go straight to the marriage and living under one roof, sharing one bed?

Now her whole body is burning with sinful sensations. Her and Peeta have only shared a few tight lip kisses and chaste caresses, but lately, she can’t stop wondering about what would it be to free with her kisses and embraces? Sharing a bed with her ‘Boy with the Cheese Buns’ would certainly be the sweetest thing of all.

The giddiness of her prospect future is threatening to choke her with happiness; not even Prim’s relentless— yet harmless— teasing puts a damper on Katniss’ spirits. Her future is so near, she can almost taste it!

———-

Peeta and his brothers arrive early on a Sunday. He doesn’t reach out to her right away though. As disappointing as it is, Katniss understands. The Mellarks have been traveling for almost two weeks before arriving home; Peeta’s probably exhausted. She couldn’t possible begrudge him a bit of rest. In fact, resting will do wonders for a romantic encounter!

Two days go by and a note from Peeta arrives to the Everdeens.

My dearest, Kitty:

I apologize for not being to see you yet. I wished I had a better excuse to give, but I think I slept thirty hours through since arriving home, and now that I’m awake mother and father have been particularly overbearing. Neither my brothers or I have had time to get away on our own, which is to put it mildly, quite annoying!

I think my eldest brother might start a mutiny soon if he doesn’t get to call on his Sweetheart, Delia Cartwright. I think I may I have mentioned he’s proposing to her as soon as he sees her?

It’s probably the reason mother has decided to drag the whole family on a holiday to the countryside for the rest of the week. We leave within the hour, and she just only sprung this news on us! She says “we’re celebrating all three of her boys are back home under one roof, and it may very well be the very last time to have a vacation with her babies.”

(There’s a drawing of a bunch of crying stick figures in diapers)

The trip is unavoidable, but I’ll be missing seeing you the whole time. I pinky promise I’ll be home soon.

(Stick man with a less crudely drawn hand, pinky finger up.)

Then… (doodle of a smiling stick boy giving flowers to a stick figure doll)

Wait for me, will you?

Yours, Always.

Katniss presses the letter to her chest sighing. She’s waited a year to see her boy, she can spare a few days more for him to get mothered and smothered.

What she has no ways of knowing, is that she’s wrong on assuming their reunion will happen any time soon.

————

The war springs up swiftly and treacherously without warning. Cannons are being fired all over Panem by a neighboring, rival country.

Men between the ages of eighteen and thirty five are being drafted left and right indiscriminately. All three Mellark brothers get called upon to defend their country; all three brothers respond valiantly by taking arms and kissing their loved ones goodbye. But Peeta hasn’t seen Katniss yet. He can’t leave before seeing her one more time, so he runs to the Everdeen home with his heart in his throat.

The sight that greets him simply kills him.

A man, tall, dark, and handsome stands at the bottom of the porch steps with Katniss facing him in the first step, bringing their faces almost leveled.

Peeta is too far away to hear what they say, but he sees just how pale Katniss looks.

She’s scowling at the man, and for a moment, Peeta quickens his step to force the stranger away, sensing he’s somehow upsetting his best friend; but right as she makes an aggravated gesture with her hands and goes to walk away, the man reaches for her wrist, pulls her back to face him, and right as she opens her mouth to say something, he kisses her right on the lips.

The man wraps his long, strong fingers around her waist and drags her body flushed with his.

If Peeta had stayed two more seconds, he would’ve seen Katniss push the man away and yell at him indignantly with tears in her eyes; he would’ve seen her rushing inside her house.

If Peeta had stayed one minute longer, and gone after her— even if to demand an explanation— she would had been over the moon to see his face again and she would’ve told him she loved him right then and there.

If he had waited enough, Katniss would’ve wrapped her arms around his neck and kiss him instead.

But Peeta didn’t stay; he flew from the scene broken-hearted and thinking the worst of Katniss.

The two friends never got a chance to clear the misunderstanding before the ravages of war scarred them both for life.

————

The war wages on for almost three years before Panem gets the upper hand and crushes down its attackers. But the damage runs deep and wide. Everywhere there’s devastation and loss.

A group of injured soldiers is brought into the Everdeen home— turn hospital— in stretches.

“Miss Everdeen, please, we need help!” A man calls from the door while pulling in one soldier with a badly mangled leg into the makeshift triage area.

Katniss isn’t one to help with bloody patients, she’s more of a fetcher for the women actually treating the hurt and sick, but everyone else is busy helping others— hurt soldiers come by the hoard every day— and so it falls on her to see to the new arrivals. Hopefully the blood shed will stop now that the last push to expel the enemy army from Panem soil has come and gone, but the devastation seems to linger, even though the war has ended.

“Bring him here,” Katniss tells the man pointing to a spot where she’s pushing a bookshelf out of the way to make room.

The man has trouble pulling the heavy soldier forth— a Sergeant judging by the insignias of his burnt uniform— but when he finally reaches Katniss’ side, she almost faints.

“Prim!” Katniss yells at the top of her lungs. “Mama! Someone! Please…” she’s sobbing uncontrollably, while fussing over the wounded man.

Prim, now sixteen, but with the wisdom of one that has seen many horrors, comes to help. She has been directing the influx of patients around by the severity of their injuries and yelling orders to helpers all around, but she comes to her sister as fast as she can, alerted she must’ve found someone they know.

The man is caked in mud head to toe and unconscious, but Prim’s eyes widen as soon as she sees him, she grew up seeing his mop of blonde hair, she’s seen it covered in mud before.

“It’s his leg!” Katniss cries out desperately. “He won’t wake up. I put a torniquete on his leg to stop the bleeding, but he’s cut up pretty badly.”

Prim goes to work right away.

“I need someone here right away!” Prim calls loudly above the hubbub, then turns to her patient, with a soothing voice. “Peeta? Can you hear me? Peeta, is Primrose, you’re home now and I’m going to look at your leg.” She brushes his stiff hair back, breaking pieces of dirt from his bangs.

Peeta’s breathing harshly, and needs immediate medical attention. He moans softly, but otherwise stays unconscious.

Katniss rushes away to grab bandages, suturing materials, an a fresh water basin. Her hands tremble something awful, but she’s on her knees next to Peeta in no time, trying to clean away the muck with careful swipes.

The more Prim prods, the deeper she frowns. Katniss whimpers every time a new bruise or a cut gets cleared of guck, and opts for keeping her eyes from Prim’s telltale face.

“I need help here!” Prim calls again.

“I’m here!” Says Madge Undersee, only daughter of former Mayor Undersee, and Katniss’ personal friend for the last three years. “Tell me what to do?” Says the young woman kindly.

“Tear off his pants, I’m afraid we will have to amputate.”

“No!” Katniss gasps, but as the fabric of his pant leg gets shredded away, it’s plainly clear something’s really wrong with his lower limb.

Chunks of meat and muscle have been sliced and charred on the edges, the bones of his ankle are twisted the wrong way as well. There’s no way Prim can sew him back together.

“Was it my torniquete?” Katniss sobs quietly.

“Of course not, Katniss. This looks like a bayonet or some kind of shrapnel explosion. I’m afraid of cutting off the boot, but doubt the foot fared any better than the calf.”

Katniss is going to vomit, but she can’t move away; she’s holding Peeta’s hand for dear life. Maybe he can feel her there, clinging to him, and he’d survive what’s to come alright.

——-

Peeta comes to thirsty, hungry and in severe pain.

His eyes bother him, but he’s warm and somewhere dry for the first time in weeks.

He tries to sit up, but every end nerve of his body screams in protest, so he stays put.

Someone gasps next to him. “You’re awake!”

Soft hands caress his leathery cheeks and then the person starts calling out loudly, “He’s awake!”

There’s a lot of sobbing, and out of nowhere people start crowding him. Everything is still blurry in his eyes, so at first he’s scared he’s somehow got imprisoned by the enemy. Then he hears something curious.

“My son! My baby! He’s awake!” Sounds like his mother.

Arms wrap around him, a body leans on his chest.

“Thank heavens you’re alright!”

More people talk encouraging nonsense. He can’t filter the words properly. Nothing makes sense, then he hears her choke back a sob.

“Peeta! You’re awake!” He swears Katniss cool fingers entwined with this.

It must be a trick of his mind. He can’t tell. His head is spinning. Suddenly, he’s out again.

——-

The next time he wakes up it takes him a minute to get his bearings. He’s more alert this time around and promptly recognizes his own bedroom, which is strange, because he could’ve sworn he was some 50 miles away from his town, fighting off a raid.

Again, he tries to sit up, but realizes he can’t move very fast.

His left foot itches something awful though. He has an all consuming urge to scratch it, he’s almost in tears. He tries to fold his leg at the knee and bring the itchy foot closer to his hand.

“Peeta! Stop!” There’s a gasp.

He knows the voice and wonders why is she in his room?

But his foot itches… so, bad!

“Peeta, please! Stop!” She’s agitated, on top of him, trying to restrain him.

He doesn’t want to look at her, but he can’t exactly stop his eyes from find her when she’s practically laying across his body, pushing him back into the mattress. Another time, this would’ve been a dream come true for him. But not now. She’s preventing him from instant gratification, and that’s one more reason to hate her.

Katniss looks too pale, too thin, too gaunt. Her hair is shorter, or so he assumes since it’s gathered at her nape in a tight bun. Her eyes are sunken in and rimmed with red and dark circles around them. Her dress is a muted, faded gray, as far as he can tell she’s wearing a white apron over her chest.

She could be a maid or a nurse rather. He doesn’t care, he wants her off of him so he can scratch his foot.

“I just need to scratch my foot, goddamnit!”

Katniss gasps at his rude language, but she’s too busy trying to keep him from reaching his god damned itch.

“You can’t, you have to calm down first, and then we will talk… I’ll call your father in, just… give me a second!” She grunts blocking his arm with her shoulder.

Finally, he pushes her away— because she’s tiny, barely a hundred and five pounds soaking wet, and he’s two hundred pounds of solid muscle— Peeta practically tosses her aside and brings his hand down his limbs.

That’s when he discovers the awful truth… there’s no left foot; there’s no knee to bend; there’s no leg at all. Just a painful stump that ends right above where his knee used to be.

He starts screaming.

Katniss sobs trying to fold him into her arms, but he doesn’t want her. He wants his leg… his foot itches so damned much he can’t stand it.

———-

“Go away.” He tells her the next time he opens his eyes.

“I can’t, I’m your very own, personal nurse.” She tells him and tries to smile, but it falls flat and sad.

“Go. The fuck. Away, Katniss! I’m not your charity case.” He yells at her.

He can see the tears gathering in her eyes, but she plasters a fake smile on her face and fluffs his pillow, as if she didn’t hear him. “My mother will be by this afternoon to change your bandages. She says the scars are healing nicely.”

“GO. THE. FUCK. AWAY!” He’s kicking and screaming and for all intents, foaming at the mouth.

She tries to hold back her sobs, but she can’t; she tries to sooth him. She tries to sing to him, touch him.

But he’s just so strong and angry, when she leans closer to plead with to calm down, he wraps his hand around her neck and pushes her back so hard, she lands on his old desk, breaking it with the force of the collision.

Peeta’s parents burst into the room and try to diffuse the situation as best as they can, but Peeta is acts like a mad man, swearing and cursing awful, awful names at them, at Katniss, everyone really.

She can’t breathe, she can’t see; her neck burns where his fingers squeezed her throat, there sure will be bruises soon. She’s unsteady on her feet, but stumbles back to him, because she knows he’s hurting, and she’s hurting too. He doesn’t know about her Papa, he wouldn’t be acting this way if he did.

“Peeta, darling… it’ll be alright—“

“GO AWAY, KATNISS! I DON’T WANT TO SEE YOU. I DON’T WANT TO HEAR YOU. YOU’RE A FAKE AND HATE YOU FOR IT!” He hurls spit at her, and luckily misses her by a foot.

Katniss can’t take it anymore; so she runs out of the room, out of the Mellark’s house, and doesn’t stop running until she reaches her own home. She’ll apologize to Mr. and Mrs. Mellark for not listening to their pleads to stop, but she had to get out there. Peeta hates her, and she’s not equipped to that kind of rejection from the boy she hope to grow old with.

———

Doctor Aurelius comes to town at the request of Healer Everdeen. He’s the best doctor in two counties and has helped many people, including her own ailing husband after the incident that almost killed him.

The good doctor is a middle aged man with half moon spectacles, and a quiet demeanor. He seems smart and capable, but he has the annoying habit of humming while he works, and for some reason that aggravates Peeta.

The doctor examines Peeta’s leg carefully for a few quiet moments. “I hear you were having some phantom aches and itches on your left foot.” Says the doctor lifting his eyes to Peeta’s. “Is this still true for you?”

Peeta shrugs and looks away. “Not as bad as the first few weeks.” His voice sounds strange to his own ears. “But yesterday I couldn’t take myself out of bed, because my left slipper was missing. Objectively, I know I don’t need it, but I can’t bring myself to function until I see the pair, sitting at the foot of my bed. Somehow that seems like a more pressing concern, to me right now.”

Doctor Aurelius takes notes without speaking for a moment, and then, stands up wiping his glasses with a kerchief. “It’s not unusual for an amputee to experience phantom cramps, itches and pain on their missing extremities. Our working hypothesis is, that the brain is not used to missing a piece of the body so suddenly, so it continues sending out pulses and orders that ultimately go nowhere. Then the brain tricks itself into feeling these sensations of pain, itch, etcetera. Hopefully, they’ll become less frequent with time.

“Same wise, I would guess your mind is applying a similar preservation principle, in a visual level. Your mind demands to see the whole set of footwear ready to go, even if consciously you know it’s a waste. This correlations take time to sink in and adapt to the new reality.”

“So that’s it? My brain is going to keep playing tricks on me until it catches up with the fact I’m a cripple now?” Peeta snaps. His father that has been sitting quietly on a corner of the room clears his throat as a reminder to his son to remember himself.

“Mister Mellark, you’ve healed beautifully. Your caregivers did an amazing job containing the wounds and repairing as much as the damage to your muscles and cartilage as they could. And yes, you lost a limb, and of course the will be scarring for life, but given the severity of your injury, I can assure you, the Everdeen healers did you an even greater service than they could provide to their own kin, and you should be grateful for it.”

“What do you mean by that, sir?” Peeta asks a little apprehensive.

Mr. Mellark shifts uncomfortably in his chair, but he’s the one to speak next. “Peeta, there was an accident about two weeks after the enemy’s surrendered. The office building Mr. Everdeen worked at, had been used as a military weapon and ammunition storage. Since the war was officially over, announced the would be rounding up their assets and moving them to a more secure location.”

“Mr. Everdeen was overseeing the process when some black powder was accidentally ignited, and all hell broke loose. He managed to keep the exploding from reaching the barrels of powder and the cannonballs.”

Peeta swallows. “Is Mister Everdeen… d-d—“

Mr. Mellark shakes his head, “He’s alive, but he’s been paralyzed from the the waist down. He’ll be confined to bed or a wheelchair for the life.”

Peeta shifts uncomfortable in his bed. His pajamas too stiff on his body. He frowns at his lap. “I’m sorry to hear that. Mr. Everdeen certainly doesn’t deserve such a fate.”

“No, he does not. That’s why in my personal opinion you should count yourself fortunate, Mister Mellark. You’re a great candidate for a prosthesis. It will take some work to get use to it; you’ll have to train your body to relearn to walk, but I’m confident at the end of a few weeks, you’ll recovering your mobility. If it’s alright with you, I’ll have my colleague, Dr. Beetee Latier, pay you a visit in the next few days. He’ll have to take measurements and there would be a handful of fittings, but I don’t see any reason why you shouldn’t be walking with minimum aid in two months time.”

Peeta looks at doctor, and gives a curt nod of assent. Walking with minimal aids is definitely more desirable than not walking at all.

When the doctor is gone, Mr. Mellark approaches his son with barely disguised aggravation.

“Son, I know losing your leg is a a rotten hand to be given in life. But we should all be grateful the odds were in your favor during the raid.”

“How so?” He spits venomously. “None of this seems very lucky to me.” Peeta growls angrily.

Mr. Mellark gives his son a stern glance, “Peeta, you may not see how fortunate you truly are, and you’re entitled to your ire, but you’re one of only three man in your unit to survive the war, and make it home to your family. Other young fellows weren’t quite so lucky. You shouldn’t take your life for granted, and really shouldn’t take your anger out on people who loves you.”

Great! Now Peeta feels guilty for not dying that day, and he’s got a sneaky suspicion his father was talking about Katniss right before leaving him alone in his bedroom.

———

Panem heals slowly but surely. Everyone is eager to leave the war behind and rebuild what was lost; weddings spring everywhere, and pregnancies start being announced soon after. No family goes without celebrating one.

The eldest Mellark brother weds his pre-war Sweetheart, Delly Cartwright, immediately upon his return home. The second brother takes a few months but then he too, marries a girl, Leevy, that although not wealthy, has his whole heart in her hands. The whole town is in assistance, including the Everdeens. Peeta sulks in a corner the whole time trying to avoid everyone as much as he can.

He’s been fitted for his fake leg, and moves alright with a walking stick, but he swears people look at him with pity and he hates it.

Then he sees Katniss in the crowd, her demeanor removed and stoic. She looks nothing like she did when they were children. She’s so beautiful though… it hurts his chest to look at her, being so far away, but that only last until the same man he saw kissing her the day he was deployed approaches her with a drink in hand and she takes it, gifting the man a small, grateful smile.

The man says something, and she laughs, shaking her head ruefully, then he offers her his arm, and she takes it without hesitation, walking towards a group of people Peeta has no interest on figuring out their identities. His stomach churns too unpleasantly, his blood boils in his veins.

He can’t believe they have the audacity to show up together to his home, where he can see them and flaunt their relationship on his face. He hates that man, whoever he is. The jealousy sours the day for him, so he tries to avoid the whole party altogether.

Tries, being the keyword.

“Hello, Peeta.” Says Primrose Everdeen smiling sweetly at him. She looks lovely, long blond hair braided down her back just like her sister did before the war. Her blue eyes are kind, but older than a seventeen year old should. “It’s so nice to see you!”

Peeta nods. “Hello, Prim.” They stand there staring at each other. “It was nice seeing you too. Enjoy the party.” He starts turning to go, but Prim pounces forward cutting off his escape.

“Have you said hello to Katniss yet? I’m sure she’d love to see you.”

“Uh. I don’t think so. Now, if you excuse me.”

He tries to go around the girl, but the blonde is persistent.

“You should come with me and sit for a spell. I heard you made the cake yourself. It looks delicious, I would love a piece served directly by the baker himself…” her smile is too wide, but her eyes aren’t crinkled at the corners. “I bet my sister will die of envy when sees I’m having dessert already!”

Peeta gives the girl an awkward smile. “I’ll take a rain check. You go enjoy the party, you hear?”

Primrose lets all pretenses fall and goes for the kill.

“You’re being stubborn, Peeta Mellark! We miss you! We want to see you and be around you.”

“And you are a nosy little pest, Primrose Everdeen!”

Peeta’s outburst is so loud the whole party screeches to a halt and everyone turns to stare at him and the healer girl.

Prim’s face harden. “I saved your life you know.” Says Prim lowly. It may be petty and childish, but he doesn’t get to insult her just because he’s being stupid.

When the incident doesn’t intensify, people lose interest and look away.

“Well, thanks for nothing! You should’ve let me die. Now move out of my way—“

“Hey! Don’t you dare talk to my sister that way!”

Peeta stiffens for a second, but storms past the Everdeen sisters like a hurricane all the same. Katniss follows hot on his heel, angry, hurt and ready for a fight.

“What makes you think it’s alright to be so rude and nasty to people who are only trying to help you, care for you?”

“Care for me?!” Peeta wheels around. “You are piece of work, saying that to me right now!”

“What is that supposed to mean?” Katniss demanded in outrage.

“Katniss, I know, alright? I saw you. Stop lying, it’s unbecoming. I would’ve thought all that expensive education would’ve taught you cheating is a foul, amoral thing, and that’s even before I was a disfigured, cripple! Maybe Miss Trinket lost her time with you, two timing Jezebel!”

Slap!

The sound of an open palm colliding with flesh freezes time and sound in the hallway Peeta Mellark and Katniss Everdeen stand staring at each other perplexed by his scathing words and her retaliation.

Katniss’ chest heaves harshly with every ragged breath she takes. “I don’t have the faintest idea of where you come off saying such awful things, Peeta Mellark. I have never been more insulted in my life, but I see now you’re not the best friend I’ve been missing all this time. You may have lost a leg, but that’s not what makes you a cripple, Peeta. You’re—you’re, a monster. A mutt. The boy I grew up with never came home, all that is left is a bitter, twisted version of him.”

Katniss stomps past her former best friend, slamming into his side with her shoulder for good measure.

Peeta just swivels with the friction, laughing mirthlessly. “Look who’s talking! But I guess you’re right, that naive, lovesick boy you duped is gone, honey! Welcome to the new Panem, where childhood memories come to die!” He opens his arms in a grand gesture, but she flies down the corridor back to her folks to beg them to go home.

“Peeta! Why is Katniss rushing out of your B brothers’ reception in tears? What did you do this time?” Demands Mrs. Everdeen closely followed by her husband.

“All I did was tell her the truth. I cannot be held responsible by her guilty conscience reaction.”

Mrs Mellark looks at her son with suspicion. “Guilty conscience? Of what exactly?”

“I saw her kissing another man, mother! That fellow wearing the 2nd Battalion of Panem uniform. Did he hear the war ended already?”

“Gale Hawthorne?” His Mother makes a dismayed sigh.

“When did you see this kiss happening, son? And please do not speak so loudly. People will hear. Command Major Hawthorne has an impeccable reputation, and this is a severe accusation to a married man.”

“Married?” Now Peeta feels the world has gone topsy turvy. “I— no, he kissed Katniss the day I got my orders to join the front. I went to say goodbye to the Everdeens, that man was there, he kissed her right in front of her house.”

“Oh, Peeta…” His Mother laments, “You’ve gone all this time thinking the worst of your very best friend, and you never talked to her about it? He may have stolen a kiss before going to war. I’m sure you would’ve done the same given the chance, but she never showed interest in him that way.”

“Hawthorne is that neighbor boy she used to hunt with. How do you know she wasn’t in some… affair with the fellow?” Peeta grumbles not ready to concede.

“Command Major Hawthorne was stationed just outside town the last seven months of the war. He met former miss Undersee. She’s Katniss only friend besides Primrose. Mister Hawthorne and miss Undersee fell madly in love and eloped a few days after you were found and brought to the Everdeens. Katniss is their first child’s godmother, which was born not two weeks ago. We didn’t raise you to make assumptions based on half perceptions.” Says Mrs Mellark sadly.

“Son,” Says Mr. Mellark cautiously, “I think you owe Katniss an apology. Maybe an explanation as well? You too need to patch things up between yourselves. Katniss’ folks and us have done everything in our power to brought you two up close; everything we’ve ever done is so you too would have the best possible relationship as grown ups. It is important you both get over this terrible enmity and put it behind you.”

Peeta’s lips thin into a line. “What’s the use? She thinks I’m a angry monster. A mutt. And I think she may be right after all.” He turns away from his parents and makes a beeline to his rooms, tired of pretending he was something he was not.

“She’s a survivor, that one,” Says mrs Mellark, stopping her son in his tracks. “She single handedly fed our entire town when food had to be rationed to send supplies to the troops. Thanks to her instincts you’re here, you know. It is my understanding she stopped your hemorrhage when you were first brought wounded to her mother’s care. She’s been doing odd works around town to help support her family since her father can’t work anymore,

“She’s never done anything other than help anyway she can. She worries about you. You would do well to figure out how to get along with her. She’s an honorable young lady, you should feel lucky she’s your… your…“

“Best friend,” supplies Mr. Mellark dubiously.

Peeta just shakes his head, and goes to his room, clomping his walking stick with each step.

The next year and a half, both the Mellarks and the Everdeens try to bring the former friends back together, but egos where hurt, guilt was mishandled, self loathing clouded some thoughts and trauma kept the spirits low. Neither Peeta or Katniss were willing to take the first step towards reconciliation, so nothing was solved, and resentment just festered untreated.

————

The day after Peeta’s twenty third birthday, the Mellarks dress in their best fineries, have a frugal lunch and practically hogtie Peeta into his Sunday suit and on to the family carriage. His parents won’t tell him where they’re going or why are they dressed so fancy.

They travel some thirty miles outside town, through some well kept dirt roads and rolling hills of green grass. Summer isn’t quite gone yet, but air is starting to get nippy, specially riding on the driver bench of the cart.

The family arrives to a grand Victorian type house, sitting smack in the middle of a beautiful valley with rose bushes in every possible color lining the property in every direction. Behind the main house sits the biggest greenhouse Peeta has ever seen, an structure made of glass and wrought iron. The place has to be splendid during the spring months, when the air is warm.

“What is this place?” Peeta asks curiously.

“It’s the home of my great grandfather Snow.” Says mrs Mellark with an uncomfortable sniff.

Peeta’s heard of the man before, nothing terribly good. The man is an eccentric, patronizing old man with a god complex and a disturbing sense of humor. A total bastard, that as far as Peeta knows, takes pleasure on holding his family’s inheritances over their heads by bullying them into doing his bidding. Peeta’s surprised the old coot is still alive.

More surprising for Peeta, is to find his brothers and their wives there as well, looking as confused and nervous as he is.

“What are we here for, you reckon?” Asks the middle brother his blue eyes fixed on the terracotta tiled veranda with its floating fern baskets hanging from the ceiling every few feet.

“No idea,” mutters the other brother. The two then look at Peeta. “You rode here with mother and father,” he posits arching an eyebrow.

“I’m as clueless as you are.” He answers aggravated.

“We’re here because Peeta is finally twenty three. We are finally ready for the announcement that will secure our entire family’s fortune for the future.” Says Peeta’s mother uneasily.

“What? What do you mean?” Peeta asks anxiously. “This sounds like a scheme, a mockery I was too insignificant to clue in.”

“I’m sorry, son. We are not allowed to say anything until we’re all here for the announcement.”

“Father?” He appeals to his old man, but even his father declines with a sad shake of his head.

“We stand to lose everything, Peeta. Then where will we be? No roof, no bakery, no income to support us all. Your Grandfather will clear things up soon enough. I just hope we prepared you enough for this day.”

“Well, that sounds ominous enough. Anything else?”

“Uh… Peet, I guess maybe that will make things more fun?” Says his middle brother pointing at the horse drawn carriage gaining speed in the distance.

Everyone recognize the Everdeen crest and the black stallions pulling the cart.

“What are they doing here?” Peeta grumbles moodily.

“Remember I said all of our family is being affected by tonight’s events?” Mrs. Mellark reminds him. “Mrs. Everdeen is my second cousin, Grandfather Snow, is her great Grandfather as well.”

“Well, I do not want to be responsible for their fortune or misfortune. I want no part in this—“

“You keep your mouth nice and civil, you hear me?” Peeta’s taken aback, his father has never spoken to anyone in such a tone before, cutting and firm with no room for protesting. “While we are in front of great Grandfather Snow, you will treat Katniss like she’s the most important person in the world to you, and you will be decent to her for once. I’m sick and tired of your disrespectful jabs and uncalled for hostility. Tonight it’s imperative Grandfather Snow sees a united front, otherwise, both our families are doomed. Do you understand?”

“Of course. I’ll… try my best—“

“Don’t try! Be better.”

By the time Mr. Mellark stops talking, the Everdeens have entered the property, and their horses are coming to a halt next to the Mellark’s fuel propelled carriage.

The mothers embrace in the middle of the veranda, exchange a few hushed words, eyes flitting between Katniss and Peeta as they speak rapidly. Katniss scowl is as deep as Peeta’s frustration. They’re about to protest the whole thing, when the door of the house opens wide, and out comes a man with a peculiarly groomed beard.

“Ah! Right on time! Excellent!” Says the man clapping his hands once before opening his arms in welcome. “Cousins, It’s been a long time since we’ve been all together. Both of you look as lovely as always.”

“Seneca,” Says first mrs. Everdeen and the man comes to kiss her twice, once on each cheek.

He does the same with Mrs. Mellark, but then turns to Prim and Katniss, and gives them a salacious wink. Peeta hasn’t spoken to either Katniss or Prim since he blew up at his brothers’ wedding less than two years earlier, but he still feels protective of the girls, so he steps between the man and the girls, deliberately making himself look bigger than he is to shield his former friends.

“You may be my mother’s cousin, but we have not been officially introduced to you, sir,” Says Peeta smoothly, presenting his hand jovially. “I’m Peeta, youngest Mellark son.”

The man grins as if pleased with the young man. “Seneca Crane. I am Grandfather Snow’s direct grandchild, and also his legal counsel. It is a joy to finally meet my cousins beloved children.” Seneca shakes everyone’s hands, and stays perfectly gentlemanly when greeting the ladies. A moment later, he invites everyone inside. “Come, please, Grandfather is waiting!”

Inside, the house is enormous and richly decorated. The furnishings solid oaks and mahogany, the carpets and rugs thick and fluffy under their feet, the crystal chandeliers in every room so ornate the whole place is one step shy of gaudy.

They follow Seneca who prattles on and on about inconsequential little things such as the price of herbicides, or the fact that he’s been putting back looking for a curator for Grandfather’s art collection, because he’s so lazy.

A few minutes later, they come to a set of double doors. Seneca looks over his shoulder with snide smirk, then he pushes the doors open.

The first thing Katniss registers, is the pungent smell of roses that seems to be coming from the very walls of the room, but then she notices the dozens upon dozens of pink, red and white flowers standing in tall vases proudly all over the place.

It’s not a sitting room or a parlor like most hosts would bring guests to entertain them. The room is in fact a very big office, with floor to ceiling bookshelves packed with books, small decorative tokens, and even pictures of various familiar faces including Everdeens and Mellarks.

There’s a desk as big as dining table in the middle of the room, and a frail looking, old man, with hair as white and thin as floss, sitting in a big wing chair behind the desk.

“So the day has come at last, and my house welcomes all of you and your families once more.” Says the old man without looking up from a document he’s reading on his desk. “Let’s have supper first, then, we will discuss what have brought us all here today.”

The whole party shuffles to an even grander dining room, with scrumptious food on the table and beautiful desserts to end the meal. Everyone tries to enjoy the diner, but tension is think in the air.

“Very well family,” Says Grandfather Snow once he’s done eating his pudding. “Seneca has drawn contracts for everyone to sign. The deeds to your houses, the bakery, Miss Primrose’s education and Emmett Everdeen’s medical expenses will be put into trusts until after the consummation of the vows and then, you will all have hefty bank accounts all on your names.”

Everyone is confused by his words… everyone except for the parents that is.

“Excuse me, I don’t understand.” Says Peeta just as Seneca Crane presents him with a piece of paper, he can only assume is the contract the old man is talking about. “My mother said that today I would find out how I was responsible for everyone’s well being, but you mentioned consumption of vows? What’s does that mean, Grandfather?” He asks as respectfully as he can. He senses this old man is not to be trifled with.

“Oh! Of course. What am I thinking?” The old man laughs a wheezy sound, and then turns his black beady eyes to the young man. “Why I forgot congratulations are in order, my boy!”

“Congratulations?” Asks one brother under his breath.

“Um, thank you?” Answers Peeta uneasily. “Just… uh—“

“Katniss, dear! You are now twenty two years old, am I right?” Asks the old man cutting Peeta off.

“Yes, Grandfather. I will be twenty three in May.”

“Good! And you have done well, even with your father’s unfortunate accident.” He observes. “Where is the fellow by the way? And excuse me for not asking after him sooner.”

“My husband is at home, with a friend.” Says Mrs. Everdeen solicitously.

Grandfather Snow nods. “Will he be able to sign his portion of the contract?” He asks rather callously.

“Yes, Grandfather. He just can’t travel in his condition.”

“I see.” Says the man, and Katniss is reminded of a snake ready to pounce looking into the old man’s face. “Will he attend the wedding?”

“Wedding?” Peeta asks in alarm. “What wedding?”

Snow turns to Peeta once more. His smile gives everyone chills. “Why, Katniss’ of course.”

Katniss gasps in shock. Her eyes wide as saucers look to her mother pleadingly. She tries to ask so many questions, but her voice has left her, and she feels like a fish struggling for oxygen.

“There’s been a mistake,” Says Prim from her place meekly, “my sister isn’t engaged. She not even being courted by anyone.”

“Oh but she has been.” Says Seneca Crane ruffling through his papers, as soon as he sits down after presenting everyone with their own copies of their contracts. “She’s been engaged pretty much since birth, and her courtship has been the longest one in history… at least in my opinion.” The man gives an effeminate laugh, making everyone sink into their chairs. Their minds connecting dots and coming to conclusions as the minutes tick by.

Peeta is besides himself angry. He stands up from the table abruptly and storms out of the dining room.

Katniss excuses herself and him, and runs after to catch up. “Peeta! Wait!” She calls desperately. “We need to talk about this.”

“No! We don’t! Leave me alone.”

“I can’t! This about the two of us, not just you.”

“If you’re alright with this… travesty, then be my guest. You’re on your own and you truly aren’t the person I once knew. The Katniss I knew growing up would’ve taken offense at this disrespectful show, she would rebel against it, not roll on her back and take it like a good little bumpkin with no brains in her head.

“I for one can’t accept this, even less if you’re just complying so easily. You have no spine, no self worth, you make me sick!” He finally turns around to throw her a killing glare but the sight of her, dowthrothen and beaten makes his heart ache.

She looks at him stoically. Tears swelling her eyes, that she refuses to let fall. “I don’t care what you think of me. You can say whatever you want, but both you and I know we can’t afford pissing off grandfather Snow. Your family would lose the bakery in case you didn’t read your contract. My father will most likely die, because I won’t be able to pay for his treatments and medicines. Prim will lose any chance of getting a dowry. Your brothers and their families won’t have a place to live in, Peeta.

“I know marrying me is got to be about the most repulsive thing in the world to you right now, and believe me, after hearing just how lowly you think of me, I’m not exactly thrilled either. But my family’s future depends on this sham of marriage. I don’t know why this awful man picked us for this mockery of a life, but I won’t be responsible for letting any of them down. If you are alright with sinking your family and yourself in a hole so deep there’s no coming out, that’s on you, and you are the spineless, brainless one. Not me.”

She turns around and walks stiffly back into the house, leaving Peeta to stand alone in the veranda.

Peeta sits there for a few more minutes, thinking about everything Katniss has said, wondering what his family’s fate would be, getting angry at his parents deception, and then going back to feel hopeless. But Katniss is right, it would be selfish of him to refuse the contract when innocent people, like his nephews who are but babes, could be left without a roof over their heads. He shivers to think the fate that would befall Mr. Everdeen, a man he’s always admired until today, when he learned his part in the unfair deal.

He goes back inside with a heavy heart, to see everyone putting on coats and cloaks, getting ready for the long road ahead before the last rays of sunshine are gone.

Nobody looks at him, nobody talks to him, except Primrose, who gives him a cold glare, while rubbing a soothing hand over her Mother’s back as she sobs uncontrollably.

Peeta marches on, and stands next to Katniss.

She scans his face for a moment; when he sticks his elbow out to her, she takes it wordlessly.

They will go into this as one. A front united.

They take a few stoic steps towards Seneca Crane. “Excuse us, Cousin Seneca, if Grandfather’s generous deal is still on the table, we will like to accept the terms of the contract.”

“Excellent, young lad!” Exclaims Seneca boisterously, “follow me everyone, and… do not worry about returning home tonight. You are all guests of Grandfather Snow until visibility allows safe travels.”

—————

Katniss and Peeta are only given two weeks to plan their wedding and marry, and just because the bride and groom to be decided to go through with the arrangement, didn’t mean they had forgiven each other from the awfulness of the past few years.

They are stiff and chilly towards each other during visits to the florists, the musicians, the clothiers, and even the stationer they commissioned invitations from. But there are flashes of kindness between the two at times.

For example, Peeta asks Katniss is they should go chocolate cake, since it’s her favorite, or if they should let Prim choose, so she feels included in the wedding preparations. He’s already paid the butcher for his best lamb, and ordered plums from the grocer, for Katniss’ favorite dish of lamb and plum stew.

And there’s the moment at the florists, when Katniss adamantly argues that orange flowers are not just acceptable for wedding decor, but cheery and full of hope. Same goes for the their visit with the clothier, Miss Portia and her brother Mr. Cinna show them a variety of white laces and ribbons for sashes, yet she spots the soft orange velvet hidden in a corner, and decides Peeta’s vest should be made out of it, and she and Primrose will wear matching sashes with their dresses. She doesn’t mention she chose the hue, because it’s Peeta’s favorite color.

Then the gossip and whispers pick up. Their town is small and sleepy for the most part, but everyone knows about the rift between the two former friends, and none of the stories floating around are very kind to the couple, particularly Katniss, who gets severely and unfairly judged by every woman in town. So Peeta comes to escort the Everdeen women to the small chapel in the square, and asks to speak at the end of the service.

He delivers a beautifully worded— if deceivingly scalding— speech about the virtuous of his future wife, and how they had been given a second chance at a future they thought gone, that restores both their good names in one fifteen minute long statement.

But not everyone was fooled into seeing a pair of starcrossed lovers reclaiming their fairytale romance.

Professor Abernathy watches Peeta walk into the local pub with his brothers the day before the wedding. He’s not in a celebratory mood, but his brothers seem elated that their families futures are secure, and they have a misguided assumption that Peeta and Katniss’ relationship will heal sooner rather than later; after all, they used to love each other as children.

Commander Hawthorne is there too, and he feels the need to congratulate the groom of his son’s godmother.

“Sergeant Mellark!” Calls Gale Hawthorne reaching the trio of broad shouldered Mellarks. All three blonde heads turn to him at the same time.

“That would be me,” Says Peeta frowning. “But I retired, Command Sergeant, sir.” Says Peeta saluting his military superior.

“At ease. I’m here to congratulate you on your upcoming nuptials. You may not know me, but I used to be your bride’s neighbor.” Says Gale impassively.

“I know who you are alright.” Says Peeta glaring. He takes a long swig of his ale, hoping the man would go away.

“Same wise, Sergeant. Catnip talks about you constantly. It was quite annoying at times honestly. She always held a candle out for you, sir.”

Peeta slams his beer mug on the table top, causing his two brothers who had been conversing between themselves to turn back to the newcomer.

“Then pray tell, Sir, why did you kiss my sweetheart if you knew she was waiting for me?”

A shadow passes over Gale’s face, bringing a mighty scowl that could rival Katniss’.

Sensing trouble, Professor Abernathy drinks a tumbler full of white liquor in one gulp without flinching, and steps between the man deliberately.

“Command Sergeant, nice of you to come buy us all a glass of whiskey, but I’ll tell you what, son, it’s time for Mister Mellark here to go back home for a regenerative beauty sleep. After all it won’t do to have the groom look all rumpled and tired.” Abernathy makes a dismissive gesture to the man who only glowers for moment but walks away at the end.

“Come up, Boy, I wasn’t kidding, I’m gonna walk you home. Your brothers can stay, though.” He says throwing them a glare that says they should obey. “Come on, I have my own harpy to go home too, you know?”

Peeta walks out of the pub more reluctantly than he was to go in.

Abernathy pounces on him right away. “Boy, you and Sweetheart have got to warm up before the show tomorrow. Nobody wants to see two people go hate each other kiss. It’s just wrong and cringeworthy, much like your performances of late.”

“Well, in case you don’t know, Katniss and I aren’t exactly the same awestruck children we used to be.”

“No, you are most definitely not. Those kids were cute and lovely. You gave me tooth decay you were so sweet. Now, you just make me wince in pain.” Abernathy takes a look at Peeta with those sharp gray eyes of his. “So, you broke the girl’s heart, but I didn’t know why until just now. You think Hawthorne overstepped some claim line you had on the girl, and then you decided to treat her and the rest of the world like shit.”

Peeta glances back at his old mentor. “She hasn’t been very nice either.”

“Boy, I’m gonna go out on a limb here and say she has no clue what is it she did wrong to earn your scorn. I’d be defensive too.” He stays quiet while Peeta ponders. “Look, Hawthorne was out of line, but so were you, and still you haven’t done crap to fix it. Hawthorne at least did something to redeem himself enough, now Sweetheart is his spawn’s godmother. What have you done to gain at least her friendship back?”

“I hate that Hawthorne!” Peeta grunts. “And He has the gall to call her a nickname in front of me? Where does he get off?”

“Ah!” Says Abernathy, “Jealousy is still Well and alive I see. You should go with that. That my old lady would disapprove of this advice, but I say, you need to get in your wives good graces, before you get in your wife, if you catch my meaning.”

Peeta balks at the man, but Abernathy is not a salacious man, he actually looks a bit green in the face.

“I doubt Katniss and I will go that far at all, at least not now. As you said, we’re not even friends.”

“Boy, a men has needs, and when sharing a bed with the warm body of his wife… well, it’s hard to stay away. I say this with much regret.” The man looks up. “Well, here we are. I’ve done my part. Now you go do yours. Fix it!”

“What?” Peeta has been so absorbed in the conversation he didn’t realized they were already home, except it’s not his home. It’s Katniss’ home. “Wait!”

But Abernathy is knocking loudly, and quick steps approach the door.

“No! Why did you— no!”

The door opens, Katniss herself stands at the other side scowling suspiciously at the two men.

“Sweetheart, your man’s home! You’re welcome!” He says to her pointing at her nose with his index fingers. He points a lot Peeta next, “Fix it!”

He then turns around and walks home with his hands into his trousers pockets, whistling a catchy jaunty.

“Can you believe that walking mess convinced miss Trinket to marry him?” Says Peeta staring at the man’s back.

“Mmm… war will do that to people, but really, I can’t speak too much about women’s dubious choice in spouse.” She says coldly.

Peeta sighs deeply. “I guess not.” He agrees. “Can I possibly come in?”

“It’s almost nine. I should be in bed as it is, not to mention how inappropriate talking to you without a chaperone is.”

Peeta chuckles. “Now you want a chaperone? You used to hate having one.”

Katniss rolls her eyes, making his heart stutter. “Come in. I can’t have the gossip mill start up again the night before the wedding.”

“Look, Katniss, we need to at least go into this marriage as friends. So I’ve been thinking, that if I stop being so… wounded, we may have a chance after all.”

“You know I’m rubbish at making friends.”

“Yes, but you see, we have an advantage here, we already know everything about each other. We have a childhood in common, and we know the big stuff.”

“Then what else can we talk about if we know the big stuff? Favorite colors? We know that too.”

Peeta shakes his head at her rueful smirk. He smiles too, a real one for the first time in months. “I have a confession to make.” He says. “I saw Hawthorn kissing you five years ago.”

Katniss cocks her head sideways. A plethora of emotions wash over her face before settling on a angry scowl.

“You’ve put me through hell, because you saw a desperate, confused boy, force a kiss on me, on a highly emotional day, and you never deign to come talk to me about until now?”

Peeta can see the fire and steam coming out of her ears and nostrils. The only thing he can do is brace for it.

“You mean to tell me, Peeta Mellark, all this hateful talk, all this nasty behavior, the awful insults, the finger prints around my neck… I had those for almost a month! All that, you mean to tell me, was just because of a stolen kiss I didn’t even enjoy?”

The first punch doesn’t hurt physically, as it does emotionally. Then comes another dozen punches and kicks to his chest and right leg, because she’s still aware of his prosthesis, but she’s angry at him.

“You ass, Peeta Mellark! You broke my heart and I had no idea what I did wrong! You’re an idiot!” She punches and scratches, and he doesn’t move one inch, taking all of her rage and letting her release all the pent up anger, sadness, and fear she’s been carrying around for the past half decade.

Primrose and Mrs Everdeen are in the room, neither Peeta nor Katniss knows when they arrived, but they just stand there there watching Katniss pummel her tiny fists against Peeta’s hard chest, and when she starts crying so much, snot drips from her nose, Peeta finally takes her into his arms, and squeezes her tightly to him.

“I’m so sorry, Kitty. You’re right, I have been a complete idiot. You didn’t deserve any of the things I’ve said and done. I’m so sorry. I promise I’ll try to be a better friend to you now. Please.”

Katniss lands another hit to his ribs, it still doesn’t hurt though, so he decides to teach her how to throw a decent punch for the future.

Mrs Everdeen brings Prim upstairs, giving the couple privacy. Katniss gets a headache from crying so much, and promptly falls asleep in his warm arms.

The night is so bizarre, but Peeta feels hope stir in his chest for the first time in ages.

———-

The wedding is short, simple and lovely. The reception is a true celebration, with food, music, and laughter. The cake is Peeta’s best work yet, delicious and fluffy, but the outside makes it hard to cut into it, so beautiful and intricate. A hundred Katniss blooms made of sugar, covering three tiers of pure, decadent chocolate… and buttercream vanilla filling, because that’s what Prim wanted.

The bride and groom share a couple shy glances, but there’s still a layer of frost on their interactions.

Mr Everdeen, rolls in his wheelchair to Peeta’s side. “May I have a word?” He asks in a somewhat delayed speech.

“Of course,” Says Peeta solicitously, moving them both to a more secluded corner.

“Son,” the man starts, “I’m sorry we didn’t protect either of you two from your Grandfather’s suck games. I heard you tried to stand up to him.”

Peeta shakes his head. “Not really. I just stood and left everyone in that room to fall in despair. It was Katniss who made it plain for me to see I was being selfish. I just wished I could show Snow that I’m still me, even now. Not a piece in his games. That me and Katniss would e ended up here anyway without his meddling. I just don’t know how to do that.”

“But that’s the easy part, Peeta! Just love each other, bring each up. Be nice, and attentive to one another. Don’t allow fear and guilt take more out of you two than it’s already done. Trust each and forgive yourselves. Things will get better. I know they will. We tried to rise you seeing good, loving families; happy, strong marriages. We hoped that you would see and model… I wish we could’ve had let you know what was ahead. But the war threw a wrench in the mix. But you’re now married, it’s up to you how you live that marriage. I have faith you two will find your happy medium and grew back together, I to the loving teens you used to be.”

Peeta is grateful for his father-in-laws words, so he hugs him and goes on to look for his wife, he owes her a wedding dance.

————-

Katniss and Peeta bow out of the party quietly.

Peeta breathes deeply, “Um, I have a gift for you.” He tells his new bride shyly.

“You didn’t have to,” She says gratefully, unwrapping the pack he sits on her lap. He says nothing, only watching her nervously. “What is this?” She asks holding a beautifully bound book in soft burgundy silk over hard cover.

Still, he won’t say anything, so she turns the book over, right side up, and gasps, holding a hand to her chest. “Peeta… how is this possible?” Her eyes are filled with tears when she finally looks up from the gold engraved title of the book:

The Mockingjay and the Willow Tree, and Other Bedtime Stories.

By K.P. Everlark

Her breath hitches.

He speaks anxiously, “I actually had it rebound years ago, hoping it would be an engagement present. I had this stupid little dream, that one day we would read it to our own babies together, but for a while there, that dream was dead and buried… it doesn’t matter now. The dream, or whatever… I want you to know I don’t expect you to bore me children if you don’t trust me or want to. I—“

She throws her arms around his neck, surprising him. “It’s perfect!” She whispers I to his shoulder. “Our children will love it!”

“So you like it?” He asks hopeful.

“I do! Very much!”

The newlyweds get ambushed by Seneca Crane. The man presents the two with a set of keys to a grand hotel in the town.

“Wedding night gift!” He says wiggling his eyebrows unnervingly. “From Grandfather. He asked me to deliver this as well.”

Mr. and Mrs. Mellark and Mr. and Mrs. Everdeen rush to their children, to see what other twisted requirement Snow is throwing at them.

Katniss eyes grow wide as she reads the document. “What is this?” She passes the paper to Peeta, who struggles to keep his eyes on the words, instead of glaring daggers at Seneca.

“What?!” He screeches. “Absolutely not! Find another way, but I’m not having sex to my wife for the first ever with some creep audience in the room. I’m sorry, but I’m putting my foot down on this. Enough is enough!” He says indignantly.

Katniss looks at Peeta with barely hidden admiration.

The parents are disgusted on all levels, but they don’t intervene either.

“Very well, we are prepared to negotiate in the case you refused to go with the stipulation in section B of paragraph five.”

Katniss leafs through the contract, Seneca hands her, and scowls. “That only covers the manner in which it’s confirmed or verified that the marriage has been consummated. It does not say anything about when or if, it should happen at all. What if we are not ready to do that!”

“Oh, the consummation of the vows is non negotiable. It has to happen before dawn on your wedding night. Tonight. Otherwise, the rest of the contract is void and you all forfeit your Inheritance. I will give you both five minutes to discuss, and then I’m only authorized to speak to the husband about the manner in which we are proceeding from here on out.”

Peeta and Katniss share an uncomfortable glance. “We will be fine.” Peeta says smiling. “If you leave it in my hands, I’ll take of it. You go ahead and go to the hotel. No sense letting it go to waste.”

Katniss nods. “I trust you, Peeta.”

“Promise? After everything you still trust me?”

Katniss presents her pinky finger. “We have to start somewhere. Why not now?”

He links his pinky with hers.

Peeta comes into the room quietly, dejected. Not even enjoying the beauty of the place.

Katniss is already in bed in a thin sleep gown that leaves little to the imagination and no undergarments to tangle with. She pulls the sheets all the way up to her chin, feeling her heart stutter in her chest. Somehow she wants to feign sleep, but one look at his face, and she knows there’s no use.

Peeta disrobes quietly, he blows out a candle and lower the flame of the oil lamp on her side of the bed. He’s down to his under trousers when he moves to the bed. He lingers at the foot for a second, but moves back to Katniss’ side instead of his. He sits at the very edge of the mattress with his lap covered by the corner of the heavy quilt, he sheds the last piece of clothing he wears, letting it fall carelessly to the floor

Katniss tenses, but peels back the covers enough for him to climb in bed. She puts up no resistance when he maneuvers to hover on top of her body. Carefully, he inches his right knee between both of hers to support his weight; the bottom of her gown rides up her thighs making her all too aware of their situation. A moment later Peeta brings the other knee between her thighs as well and hisses in pain, wincing.

“Peeta, take off the prosthesis. You’ll be more comfortable without it. I can help with it.”

“No,” whispers stubbornly. “I don’t want you to have to fuck a cripple man.” He gasps in pain. “I don’t want you to see me like that.”

Her fingers caress his face gently. “Oh, Peeta, I don’t think of you as a cripple, but I’ve already seen you without your leg.” She blushes, “I’ve seen all of you, to be honest.”

Peeta frowns, but let’s his left leg fall to the mattress. “You’ve seen me naked?” He asks rising one eyebrow.

Her blush deepens. She nods. “I had to. I was your nurse for about week and half. I gave you daily sponge baths, you know.”

“Well, if that doesn’t kill the mood, then I don’t know what would.”

“Don’t think of it that way. I’m not trying to emasculate you. I thought you knew. Besides… your equipment seemed to be in top notch working condition every time I had to handle it. You even mumbled my name a couple of times… it made me feel… wanted.” She says hiding her face into his chest.

“You touched me in my sleep? And you… enjoyed it? I feel so violated!” He chuckles at her embarrassment. He gently pushes apart her thighs with his right knee, she widens the space willingly, and he sits sideways to undo the fastenings of his fake leg.

With her help, they have it off in a moment, after which he just stares at her scantily short nightgown. He’s momentarily dumbstruck.

“You looked beautiful in your wedding clothes.” He stutters.

“But you like this outfit better?” She smirks with a burning blush.

His eyes caress her form and then his hands slide up her thighs slowly, uncovering her skin inch by inch. She moves her arms straight above her head, to aid him in removing the gown completely.

He swallows audibly, his Adam’s apple bobs in his throat. “I think I like no outfit way better, no offense to Miss Portia and Mr. Cinna.”

Katniss does something she hasn’t done in ages. She giggles. “Now we’re even… do please bring the covers back, it’s a bit chilly.” She says rubbing her arms.

Peeta can’t stop looking at the rosy, puckered, nubs of her breasts until she shivers. He falls back on his hands, positioned at each side of her head. Once he’s brought the sheets back up to cover them both, he lowers himself to his elbows, his body warm and so much bigger than hers, cradled between her thighs.

“Hey, I really don’t care if you see… ‘me’.” He says quietly twirling a loose strand of her dark hair around his finger, “I like seeing you too.” A moment passes, then he adds. “I never thanked you for taking care of me while I was hurt. I’m sorry I was such a nightmare when I finally woke up. I wish I had been in a better place mentally and emotionally. You were a perfect angel and I was horrible to you.”

“It’s in the past.” She says looking up at him.

Peeta sighs and shakes his head. “We’ve made a mess out of things haven’t we?”

“We can’t dwell on that anymore.”

“I know. We have bigger issues to attend to right now.” His blue eyes look nervously into her gray ones. “I’m sorry, Katniss. I tried to reason with Seneca. But his options went from bad to worse with my every rejection. We finally settled on one that although invasive, won’t be performed with Seneca in the audience.”

Katniss shivers in disgust. “What’s the new caveat?”

“You’ll have to get a gynecological exam, performed by a doctor of Seneca’s choosing, and they will confirm you have had intercourse recently. They’ll check for babies too, though I doubt it’ll be possible to determine so soon.”

Katniss digs her face into his chest again. Peeta holds his weight off her frame. Still, their skins touch everywhere, warm and soft, tingling in anticipation, flushing and waking up secret nerve ends they never had reason to know existed. Her nipples press to his chest, and suddenly both their bodies are covered in goose flesh.

“So, they’re not coming in to watch you enter me then?” Katniss tries to confirm. Her fingers wrap around his strong arm muscles tentatively… Oh! It feels good, so impossibly good, to be under his weight this way.

He shakes his head, kissing her temple. “No one will be peeping. I told them we’re not in the Middle Ages. They couldn’t just ask to watch us make love… nobody’s first time should be that way.”

“Thank you,” She says gratefully.

He takes a deep breath. “We do have to save tonight’s sheets. They want to see the mess we leave behind.”

“Such perversion! Aren’t we already married? Why isn’t that enough for them?” Katniss asks indignant, she’s so worked up she shifts under his weight, making their bodies slide and press together in different places.

Peeta’s member rubs the place where her inner thigh meets her cleft and they feel the friction wake a type of hunger they’ve never had a chance to explore before.

Peeta groans, just as she gasps. His hips roll into her middle again of their own volition.

“Katniss.” Peeta’s voice is almost a whisper against her warm cheek. “I have something to tell you. I’ve never done this before, so I’m probably not going to last very long. Please don’t judge my performance too harshly. I’ve been dreaming about doing this with you since I was old enough to learn about carnal urges.”

“We’ll work together!” Says Katniss smiling sweetly. Her fingertips drawing circles over his biceps. “Is not like I have anything to compare your performance with. I don’t have much experience either, only what my friend Madge told me about laying with a man, and a very awkward talk with my mother when we were sixteen.” Katniss laughs burying her forehead into his shoulder. “Mother saw us kissing in the garden the day father let us ride our horses on our own. We thought we were so subtle… how naive!”

He drags his lips to her ear. “We are not naive children anymore. We are about to do more naughty things than merely kissing in the meadow. I’m supposed to be readying you for me. I don’t want to hurt you, so… um… can I… touch you? Kiss you, perhaps?” His hips roll into her again, making them both sigh.

“I don’t know… kissing hasn’t been too safe for me. People tend to get angry when boys kiss me, and either lecture me about the birds and the bees or accuse me of being some kind of harlot.” She says pointedly.

“Goddamnit, Katniss! Kiss me!” He doesn’t let her respond, his mouth is on hers, devouring her whole.

She responds enthusiastically, her hands cradle his face while he brings a hesitant hand down her arm. In an effort to help him, she rotates her torso, but he misses the hint, so she grabs his hand and puts it on her eagerly awaiting breast.

He’s never squeeze a tit before, he never allowed himself such liberties with her when they were young; and later he was too convinced no woman would want him, he never pursued anyone else. But now that his hand is kneading her soft, perfectly round mound in his hand, he wants to taste it. He suckles on her breasts like they are coated with ambrosia and he will die if doesn’t lick all of it off her skin.

The sounds they make are obscene! Wanton and needy. He’s ready to burst, but every word he’s ever heard from his brothers stick in his mind: “Be gentle but passionate. Make sure she’s sufficiently aroused, lubrication between the legs will make this loads easier and more pleasurable for everyone. A woman’s juices is the best dessert a man will ever taste.” and the such. He wants to do so much, but he can barely hold on to sanity as it is!

“Katniss, I am going make sure you’re ready for me.”

Katniss nods, perspiration clinging to her forehead. “Touch me, Peeta!” She keens.

Peeta’s hand reaches between Katniss’ legs. He could die a happy man just dragging his fingers through the warm, wet, folds of his bride. “I have to penetrate you right now, Kitty.” He grunts against her lips.

She wills her thighs further apart, and holds her breath in anticipation. Peeta takes himself in hand and growls, her arousal still on his fingers feels heavenly against his heated skin. It’s even better when the tip of his cock glides between her folds, and blindly seeks her entrance.

Katniss moans at the sensation of his manhood there, teasing her. Her pelvis angles instinctively to guide his member home.

It takes a couple of fumbling tries, but then he finds the place he fits in, and pushes right in, all the way to the hilt.

Katniss gasps. All the breath pushed out of her lungs the deeper his length full her.

“Peeta!” She whines, digging her nails into his shoulders. “Oh… Peeta, my love!”

Peeta can’t hold back. He thrusts into her desperately, erratically. He’s placing sloppy kisses on her mouth, his hands planted by her head for fear of falling face first. Then without much warning, he’s moaning loudly while his seed spills in spurts deep inside Katniss.

“Katniss!” He chokes back her name, “I’m going to take care of you now.” He rasps when he’s able to speak again.

Katniss wants to ask what he means, but he pulls out of her body quickly, and throws off the blankets from their bodies. Those are only hindering his movements anyway. He balances on his leg stump and knee, until he sits with her legs splayed wide on the mattress. His eyes roam over her nude form, greedily, lustful, and ravenously.

His fingers pull her folds apart. “Oh, darling… you look glorious, dripping wet, with load fulls of my seed escaping your depths.”

Katniss doesn’t think Peeta is actually talking to her, since his eyes are fixated on her womanhood.

“There are traces of blood. That’s good, Kitty,” He says looking up at her. He sees the same lecherous shine in her eyes he’s sporting.

“Then let it stain the sheets, husband. We don’t want to disappoint Seneca or Grandfather.”

“I don’t care about them right now. I’m going to make you scream in pleasure now. You tell me if this feels good, because I only know this on a theoretical level.”

She nods.

The fingers of his other hand caress her along the slit, her hips adjust at the touch. His sinks one finger inside the place his penis just vacated, and the action brings forth a reaction. She gasps and bucks into his touch, he starts pumping his finger in and out of her, his thumb accidentally bumps the very top of her cleft, and then she really gives him something to work with.

They spend the next twenty minutes exploring her womanhood. Using his release as lubrication, but she’s producing her own juices copiously. Out of curiosity, he takes a lick of the sticky film, and she sings his name like he’s never heard before. He’s hard again, so he asks if he can have one more time. She practically cries when he enters her, and this time they fall apart together.

————-

The next morning, they present Seneca with truly filth sheets, and the man finds the notion so hilarious, he waves the doctor examination. It’s obvious, Peeta claimed his wife more than once by they awkward way she moves anyway.

“Our contracts, sir.” Demands Peeta not amused by Seneca’s uncalled commentary.

“Very well. Here you go. The Mellarks and Everdeens owe Grandfather Snow nothing more. This generation is free and financially secure.”

“Thank you, sir. Now if you excuse us. We have a life to build from the ashes. One that’s real and free of manipulative relatives.” Says Katniss glaring at the man. “We hope to never see you again, sir, we expect to be the last people Grandfather Snow gets to tries to use for his amusement.”

Peeta nods in agreement.

They just look at each other, and walk out of the hotel hand in hand.

“So what do we know?” She asks meekly.

Peeta takes her face in his hand. “I just want to spend every minute o the rest of my life with you. Making up for all the heartache I caused.”

She sees hope in those blue eyes she’s known since she can remember. Eyes full of promises and humility. Eyes she trusted when she was a child, she reckons she can trust him again now, he’s not going anywhere anymore.

They kiss sweetly, breathing each other in, and swap shy smiles.

“Come on then!” She links her arm through his elbow, and they walk under the shining sun towards a promising future.

#Springtime Edition 2019 #submission #aliswell 21 #prompt 76

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sirius-whoisleft · 5 years

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GENERAL INFORMATION ➤

Full Legal Name: Sirius Orion Black III Nickname(s): Padfoot Age: 18 Gender & Pronouns: cisgender male; he/him Sexuality: Initially, I began writing him as a demiromantic pansexual. However, I am pleased to announce that with each day I write him? He not only gets gayer, but his capacity to love and crush and pine grows threefold.

Date of Birth: November 3rd Horoscope: Scorpio, baby!!!!! Hogwarts House: Gryffindor, though and through Nationality: French by way of London Occupation:

Sirius is currently a seventh year Gryffindor student at Hogwarts School for Witchcraft and Wizardry which is, all things considered, a pretty sweet gig. He’s preparing for NEWTS! He’s living off the trust fund provided for him by his dearly departed Uncle Alphard! He hasn’t been kicked out yet! He’s snogging his boyfriend in the library every chance he gets!

And, improbably, Sirius Black is preparing for his future.

Recently, Sirius had been admitted to the competitive and prestigious Gringott’s cursebreaking training program. After graduation, he’ll make that five-times-a-week trek down to Diagon Alley and immerse himself in ancient societies, runes, translations, curse-handling, history, desert magic and...yes...wait for it...copious paperwork! Upon graduation from the program, Sirius will emerge a newly minted and proud Cursebreaker, working at the bank’s back office most days, doing research and translations and the like, but also getting his hands dirty on trips. The pyramids of Egypt and the tombs of China will call to him, and he can’t wait to see them all!

Unfortunately, his time with the cursebreakers will be cut short, and he’ll hurl himself headlong into his Order of the Phoenix membership under Alastor Moody’s dark influence...but that’s a story for another day.

Summarized in One Word: Bombastic!

APPEARANCE ➤

Faceclaim: Ben Barnes Height: Just as with the sexuality question, Sirius gets both gayer AND SHORTER the longer I write him. Currently he’s hovering around 5′7″ by accurate standards, but in my mind he’s a tiny little pocket bastard. Hair Color: Black Eye Color: Grey Noticeable Features: Devastating good looks. Emphasis on the devastating due to the strong Black family resemblance. A growing collection of tattoos. Long hair that he’s wont to elegantly flick away from his eyes. Perpetual haughty looks off into the distance.

Typical Outfit or General Fashion Sense: Sirius dresses simply, but well. How well depends on the occasion and your personal opinion, but it can’t be argued that he looks good doing it. His typical layabout clothes consist of either a band-tee or button-down with a pair of trousers or muggle jeans (the magic of which Remus Lupin introduced him to); for formal affairs, he still remembers how to walk the walk and can pull off a suit and tie with uncomfortable ease.

Truth be told, Sirius is still figuring out his fashion sense! He went from his clothing being dictated by his family to skating by on a Hogwarts uniform for several years. He’ll come into his own slowly and with purpose – the first step being an overindexing on punky, black leather jackets.

HISTORY ➤

Hometown: London Financial Status: Trust fund bastard! After being cut off by the House of Black, Sirius coasted by broke and on the basis of favors from the Potter family for over a year before his Uncle Alphard passed away and left him a hefty little nest egg with which to make his way in the world. For all his talk about wanting to be of the common people and despising the wealthy and all they stand for, Sirius was raised with the safety net of exorbitant wealth and still defaults to many of those old habits and assumptions. Spoken Languages: French was his first language, followed by English and then Latin. He’s deeply interested in dead languages and the study of runes. Dream Job: Cursebreaker! Bad Habits: Biting the inside of his cheek. Lashing out at those that care about him most. Pushing friends and concern away. Refusing to apply himself lest he try and fail. Squandering his education. Cocaine, alcohol, and other substances; his general proneness to addition. Recklessness and adrenaline-highs. Stealing the covers at night. Joking to cover up his real feelings. A proclivity for dark magic. Singing in the shower.

FAMILY BACKGROUND ➤

Mother: Walburga Black (neé Black), estranged. Father: Orion Black, estranged. Sibling(s): Regulus Black, estranged. Pet(s): n/a Cousin(s): Bellatrix Black. Andromeda Black. Narcissa Black. Evan Rosier.

MAGICAL ABILITIES ➤

Wand: Reed, dragon heartstring, 10 ½ inches, rigid

Patronus (and which memory they’re currently using to cast a patronus if they can, or which one they’d use if they could): Like his Animagus form, Sirius’s patronus takes the shape of a large dog. He’s able to cast it with highly varying levels of success lately; while he has a good tutor in Remus and a willingness to try, Sirius’s magic has always been affected by his mood swings and he just...has too many of those to predict. His most successful attempts have been driven by days of rare concentration and memories colored by the other Marauders. Currently, were he to try and produce one, Sirius would think about the day that Remus kissed him in their dormitory following The Prank fallout – giving him affection and forgiveness and a second chance.

Boggart: The House of Black version of himself - the one that might have happened if he hadn’t been able to break away from his family in time.

OWLS: Ancient Runes, History of Magic, Astronomy, Charms, Defense Against the Dark Arts, Transfiguration, Potions, Herbology, Arithmancy NEWTS: Ancient Runes (O), History of Magic (A), Astronomy (O), Charms (O), Defense Against the Dark Arts (O), Transfiguration (E), Potions (O), Arithmancy (O)

What Kind of Magic do They Excel at:

Sirius’s best subject is Defense Against the Dark Arts. He is handy with a wand, knows his own power, and is unafraid to act in the heat of the moment – perhaps a bit recklessly, but there’s nothing life-or-death about the inside of the classroom, and so he simply manages to come off looking talented.

The most important reason behind him succeeding in that class is the simple fact that he believes it to be useful; it’s going to Mean Something in the Real World, and so it’s one of the few school subjects that commands his attention and respect in equal measure.

He also has a talent for Ancient Runes that’s finally being appreciated—now that he’s allowing people to appreciate it, and owning his deep interest in the subject openly—and, unfortunately, for the complexities of Dark Magic.

PSYCHOLOGY ➤

MB Type: The Campaigner

Few personality types are as creative and charismatic as Campaigners. Known for their idealism and enthusiasm, Campaigners are good at dealing with unexpected challenges and brightening the lives of those around them. Campaigners’ imagination is invaluable in many areas, including their own personal growth.

Yet Campaigners can be easily tripped up in areas where idealism and kindness are more of a liability than an asset. Whether it is finding (or keeping) a partner, staying calm under pressure, reaching dazzling heights on the career ladder or making difficult decisions, Campaigners need to put in a conscious effort to develop their weaker traits and additional skills.

Enneagram: ENFP [read more]

Excellent communicators. ENFPs have outstanding communication skills and they know how to use them. They will engage anyone in conversation at the drop of a hat, and they know how to draw others out in a way that keeps the discussion flowing. Whether casually shooting the breeze or collaborating in the workplace, ENFPs provide the horsepower that keeps the engine of conversation humming along.

Imaginative. ENFPs are imaginative problem solvers and reject the idea that traditional ways are always the best. In every situation they believe an original approach is possible—and desirable—and they refuse to become prisoners of habit or routine. They see roadblocks as opportunities, and they confront every challenge they face with fresh eyes and no preconceived notions.

Natural leaders. ENFPs step forward to assume positions of leadership readily and instinctively. They are confident in their ability to handle demanding responsibilities many people find scary or intimidating. ENFP leaders are consensus builders who work hard to gain the trust of their associates, patiently listening to their ideas and reacting enthusiastically to their good suggestions. Their assertive, “can-do” attitude inspires others and motivates them to action.

Strong social conscience. Often active in social movements, ENFPs stand up for what they believe in without apology. Some people talk the compassion game but don’t follow through with meaningful action, but ENFPs believe it is vitally important to back up caring words with good deeds. Despite their friendly nature, an ENFP will go supernova with righteous anger when they are exposed to suffering and injustice. They can get quite loud and assertive, if that’s what it takes to get their opinions heard.

Hypersensitivity. ENFPs sometimes let their imaginations run wild and often perceive bad intentions that don’t really exist. Being hyper-alert and aware helps ENFPs improve their social comprehension, but reading between the lines only works when something is actually hidden there. If it isn’t, misunderstandings can occur and hurt feelings can damage good relationships.

Lack of focus and follow through. ENFPs are endlessly creative, capable of filling a thousand days with a thousand bold ideas. But they don’t always follow through on their inspirations, and if others are not brought on board to handle the details, their best ideas may never be put into practice. ENFPs rely on their initial excitement and passion too much and don’t always show the discipline necessary to translate their ideas into real-world production. They have a tendency to start new projects before the last ones are finished, and failing to see things through is where ENFPs sometimes come up short.

Overthink things. ENFPs have a tendency to perceive slights, resentments or hostility where none actually exist, and their habit of overanalyzing other people’s behavior can lead to unnecessary anger and conflict. If ENFPs aren’t receiving as many compliments as they expect from their significant others, their insecurities can be activated and they may start to feel unappreciated and unloved.

Overemotional and approval-seeking. While emotional expression is a core part of the ENFP's identity, they can come on too strong. The bubbly, energetic style of ENFPs doesn’t mesh well with every partner and introverts, in particular, can sometimes feel steamrolled in their presence. ENFPs are also approval-seekers, and in their desire to receive praise and acknowledgment they may try a little too hard to make a good impression, talking too much and listening too little in the process.

Moral Alignment: Chaotic Good

Archetype:

55% Rebel - The Rebel is comfortable throwing caution to the wind—and bucking the system...if that means getting their point across.

25% Advocate - The Advocate is the one everyone wants on their side. In the name of justice, they are not afraid to challenge authority or speak up for others.

20% Caregiver - Friendly, sincere, and compassionate, the Caregiver finds their reward in helping others. No one could ask for a better best friend.

Temperament: Sanguine

#tag: character development #plot prompt friday #***#tag: inspo #tag: headcanon

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bellatrix-whoisleft · 5 years

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General Information

Full Legal Name: Bellatrix Black Nickname: Bella for family, Bellatrix for absolutely anyone else. Never Trixie. Age: 19 Gender & Pronouns: Cisgender Female / she/her Sexuality: Heterosexual Aromantic Date of Birth: November 10, 1958 Horoscope: Scorpio Hogwarts House: Slytherin. Nationality: British & French Occupation: Publicly, she works part-time for the Magical Archives, sorting through old spellbooks and cross-checking accounts on the evolution of magic. Privately, she helps manage the Black family’s shadier affairs. Confidentially, most of her time is spent with the Death Eaters. Summarized in One Word: Indomitable

Appearance

Faceclaim: Katie McGrath Height: 5 feet, 8 inches Hair Color: Black Eye Color: Green Noticeable Features: Aside from the classic Black good looks, her eyes are striking. She demands eye contact, and it isn’t just because of her personality but an inability to look anywhere else. They’re also where she looks most like Andromeda. Typical Outfit or General Fashion Sense: Bellatrix is immaculately dressed whenever she leaves the house. From intricate cloaks to perfectly fitted dresses, elegant robes, and trim pants, the common factor is she never looks anything less than perfect. Every last piece has been tailored, and her style is unified by how put together she is.

History

Hometown: She is from Bath, growing up in one of the many homes owned by the Black family. She still spends a portion of her time there, but even before their engagement, she has been spending more time in a townhouse in London with Rodolphus. It’s much easier to hide her involvement with the Cause when she isn’t under the same roof as those she’s trying to keep it from.

Financial Status: Bellatrix has never wanted for anything in her life, and she never will. The Blacks are the kind of wealthy where they could stop working, and they could last generations while maintaining that lifestyle. The goal is to upkeep it forever and depleting even virtually limitless funds does not present a good public face, so they still have—often shady—sources of income. They’re old money, as true as they come, and it secures their quality of life, philanthropic efforts, and ability to take time away from conventional work as needed.

Spoken Languages: Bellatrix has an ear for languages, picking them up well and emphasizing learning them. She’s truly fluent in English and French to the degree of thinking in either. She can speak German, and if she was so inclined, Latin, and can read bits and pieces of others.

Dream Job: Bellatrix was not a child who grew up with dreams of being a magizoologist or an artist. She had aspirations of being notable, of playing their sociopolitical games, and she is living that prevalence to a degree. Now, she wants a hand in crafting the new world order next to the Dark Lord. It is difficult to imagine a dream job when you aspire to overhaul society.

Bad Habits: She relentlessly bites the inside of her left cheek to the point where it has scar tissue. Her wand is almost always in her hand—which many find disconcerting—and she will flip it or twirl it through her fingers subconsciously. When she’s injured, she can’t stop herself from touching the wounds, poking and prodding and feeling the pain. There’s also a pesky anger problem, but she has a good outlet for it in torture and destruction.

Family Background

Mother: Druella Black nee Rosier Father: Cygnus Black III Siblings: Andromeda and Narcissa Black Pets: None. This is for the best. Grandparents: Irma and Pollux Black; Vinda and Philippe Rosier Cousins: Does she ever have them. Sirius and Regulus on their father’s side, and Evan on their mother’s are the ones she sees most often given they all went to Hogwarts together. There are more, especially on the French side, and once second and third cousins are counted, it’s often easier to assume someone is related than not.

Magical Abilities

Wand: Walnut. Dragon Heartstring. 12 ¾”. Unyielding. Notable bend just about her grip.

Patronus: Bellatrix cannot and will never be able to cast a patronus. Memories of her sisters, particularly those on Christmas, are all she can think to use to conjure it. She’s happiest there, giving and embracing the warmth of the moment, and it angers her that it’s never been enough. As she keeps corrupting, she gets further from the spell and Dementors slowly grow into a fear even before Azkaban because they are on a very short list of obstacles she can do nothing about. If she could, it would be a Pheasant. They’re regal birds that have long been held as a symbol of refinement. While they don’t always flash their plumage like a peacock, they maintain a high standard of etiquette in all situations. Their pride can lead them to trouble, but they do care deeply for family.

Boggart: It manifests as her being the only one left on the Black family tree. Bellatrix isn’t concerned that it will happen or that she will be left alone, not really, but it represent the fear she will be the only one left fighting. For what’s right, for her family, for what she believes in. With time, it evolves into a dementor: the best representation she has of her powerlessness.

OWLs: Astronomy, Charms, Defense Against the Dark Arts, History of Magic, Potions, Transfiguration, Ancient Runes, Herbology: her only E NEWTs: Charms, Defense Against the Dark Arts, History of Magic, Potions, Transfiguration, Ancient Runes, Astronomy: she got an A because she felt seven years of the class was absurd

What Kind of Magic Do They Excel At: Bellatrix is outstanding at the Dark Arts. They have always resonated with her as the most powerful form of magic, and she drives herself incredibly hard to learn everything she can about them. She has the resolve to not be ruined by the practice as some are, the creativity to combine it with more conventional magic, and the inherent ability to perform such difficult spells. Her tireless work ethic helps, but this is her sweet spot. It translates well into dueling and other aspects of her life, but this is the core. She also shines with her Occlumency and Transfiguration abilities, and across the board, she is a truly formidable witch and getting stronger every day.

Psychology

MB Type: ISTJ-A / The Logistician

Their defining characteristics of integrity, practical logic, and tireless dedication to duty make Logisticians a vital core to many families, as well as organizations that uphold traditions, rules, and standards.

Ennegram: The Challenger

Goal-oriented and self-competent, challengers trail blaze boldly through all walks of life and take great pride in their independence and sharp minds. […] As children, the may have been called bossy by their peers. They typically take charge during group projects or meetings and find themselves at ease in leadership positions. The opinions of others will have absolutely no effect on their standings upon an issue, as they pride themselves on being fully capable and self-sufficient.

Moral Alignment: Lawful Evil

A lawful evil villain methodically takes what she wants within the limits of her code of conduct without regard for whom it hurts. She cares about tradition, loyalty, and order but not about freedom, dignity, or life. She plays by rules but without mercy or compassion. She is comfortable in a hierarchy and would like to rule but is willing to serve.

Archetype:

61% Royal 22% Intellectual 17% Visionary

Temperament: Choleric

Choleric people are leader and directors. They seek to be in control of situations, to be on top, to be the best.

#whoisleftplotting #ppf #about

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samwpmarleau · 6 years

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for the fic meme: #21 with robb x rhaenys (jon being the best friend)

21. best friend’s sibling au

For this meme.

It’s not like he doesn’t know Jon has a half-sister. And it’s not like he ever thought it’d be impossible to meet her, given the givens. But he also hadn’t expected to be set up with her on a blind date.

He doesn’t recognize her at first when she walks into the restaurant, distracted as he is by her killer yellow dress that matches his tie–Alysane’s idea, to indicate who the other was–and the tumble of black curls pinned back by a silver barrette, a slightly nervous smile on her face.

I will never question your powers of matchmaking again, Aly, he thinks to himself. How could I be so lucky?

But then as she comes closer, she frowns. Like a popped balloon, it all implodes, right down to his realization that the shape of her nose is a mirror image of his cousin’s.

“Robb fucking Stark,” Rhaenys Targaryen curses in disbelief. “And here I thought my night was going to get better.”

Part of Robb wants to be offended that she’s so outwardly hostile; but, then again, were he in her shoes he probably wouldn’t react kindly either. Jon had said once that Aegon told him she hated their father perhaps more than even Jon, but clearly that doesn’t outweigh the desire to have nothing to do with anyone related to the girl said father had romanced.

The whole debacle wasn’t his aunt’s fault, he knows that, and he wagers Rhaenys knows that, but anger isn’t always reasonable. Just because Aunt Lyanna hadn’t been aware that Rhaegar Targaryen was married with two children must not lessen the sting, and it’s surely far easier to actively resent a woman you’ve never met than your own father.

“Well, hang on,” Robb hastens without thinking. “We already have the reservation, and I’m starving.”

“Eat to your heart’s content. There’s no way I’m staying on this date with you. I’m also going to kill Aly.”

“She didn’t know about our families’ history.”

“Even so,” Rhaenys says, looking him up and down, “I can’t believe she’d think we’re compatible.”

“What is it you think makes us incompatible?” Robb asks, not entirely positive why he’s objecting. “You don’t know anything about me, nor do I know anything about you. Other than the obvious.”

“‘The obvious’ isn’t enough?”

“Neither of us played any part in it. I don’t see why that should be a dealbreaker.”

“Because I’m not going to date the nephew of the woman my father cheated with!” Rhaenys hisses. “You’re delusional.”

Before Robb can come up with another rebuttal, Rhaenys summarily turns on her heel and strides out of the restaurant, leaving him to explain to the waitress that no, he won’t be needing the table after all.

“So how’d it go?” Alysane asks him the next day. “Go ahead, tell me I was spot on.”

“Actually, she didn’t like me at all.” It would be kinder to lie, but he sincerely doubts Rhaenys would refrain from doing the same if questioned.

“What?” Alysane asks, crestfallen. “That’s impossible. I’ve never been surer of anything.”

“I don’t know what to tell you. Sorry, Aly, it just didn’t work out. You could always just set me up with someone else.”

“No,” says Alysane, “I’m getting to the bottom of this.”

She doesn’t bug him about it again that day, but when he gets back to the dorm, the discussion renews on a different front. “Did you seriously go on a date with my half-sister?” Jon demands as soon as he gets in the door. “You have got to be kidding.”

“How did you–”

“Alysane asked me about you,” he says. “She wanted to know if there was something going on that would make you sabotage a, and I quote, ‘perfectly wonderful date.’ What the fuck, Robb?”

“Chill out,” says Robb, setting down his backpack. “First of all, it was a blind date, so you can blame Aly for that. Secondly, it didn’t go anywhere. Rhaenys made sure of that.”

“Rhaenys did?” Jon asks, eyes narrowing. “Not you?”

“I mean, I did, too, obviously. Rhaenys was just more forceful about it, that’s all,” Robb says, wincing.

“Okay, good. Because the prospect of you two getting together is the worst.”

“Don’t worry, even if I wanted to–which I don’t–I’m pretty sure she’d rather gouge her eyes out than date me.”

“I guess she does have that going for her.” Jon looks sufficiently mollified, and Robb counts it as a win that he has avoided homicide-by-cousin. For now.

He manages to mostly forget about the date-that-wasn’t. With finals approaching, romance hasn’t remotely been on his mind anyway. Presently, irritation is at the forefront–he needs precisely one more book to research his term paper, and it’s not where it’s supposed to be.

“I’m looking for this but I couldn’t find it,” he says to the work study librarian’s assistant, handing her a slip of paper with the title. “Kinda urgent.”

The assistant regards him with a look of sympathy. “Sorry, man. Someone else just checked it out.”

“Really?” he asks. “You don’t have another copy?”

“No, sorry,” she says. “But the one who borrowed it is sitting over there, maybe you can work out an arrangement.”

He thanks her and, not feeling very optimistic, walks over to the indicated table, where a woman is hunched over the book in question, thick dark hair tied in a haphazard ponytail.

“Excuse me,” Robb says, “but I was wondering if we could share this book, because–”

His voice trails off as the woman looks up at him. What are the odds? he despairs.

Rhaenys’s face contorts into distaste just as it did months ago, but it’s tempered this time by what is clearly dead week fatigue. “Not a chance. I have a term paper due for–”

“Dr. Pycelle’s class? Yeah, me too,” he interrupts. “Listen, I don’t want to fight, or even talk at all really, I just want to survive this semester. Please?”

“You’re actually in his class?” she asks skeptically.

“Tuesday-Thursday section, longest syllabus I’ve ever seen.” For proof, he reaches into his bag, grabs said syllabus, and drops it on her laptop.

Rhaenys deliberates, then finally nods towards the opposite side of the table. “Fine.” She pushes his syllabus back to him and adds, “Only because Pycelle’s a total prick who wants to see people fail and I’d love nothing more than for him to be wrong.”

“I’m surprised you don’t want to see me fail,” says Robb, taking a seat. “Doesn’t seem very on-brand for you, given our last encounter.”

“You underestimate my capacity for spite,” she answers. “Pycelle is more relevant at the moment than family bullshit.”

“Well, thanks anyway.”

“Whatever.”

The situation works better than he thought it would: they don’t talk other than to trade off with the book, let out a curse of frustration, or bounce the occasional question off the other. Even though it’s not really a truce, it feels like one.

He also finds that as the night wears on and his sleep-deprived mind lapses, he sneaks more and more glances at her.

She looks atrocious, in all honesty, face blotchy from lack of rest and no makeup, bags beneath her eyes, an old sweatshirt that had definitely seen better days, a habit of pen-chewing. But somehow, it’s endearing, if he ignores how she’d been at their botched dinner date.

She’s Jon’s sister, he has to remind himself. Jon, who would murder you if he found out you were ogling her.

Half-sister, and it’s not ogling, it’s appreciating, he argues. I’m only human.

“Are you done? I’m done,” Rhaenys announces, closing her laptop with a satisfied snap.

It brings Robb out of his…appreciation. “Yeah, same. Might be my best paper yet.”

He reaches for the book to give her to return, at the same time she too goes to grab it. Their fingers brush on the spine. Robb doesn’t believe in otherworldliness, but there’s definitely something when they touch, and he knows he isn’t imagining the look of near-vulnerability in her eyes as she looks from their hands then back to him.

He pulls his away before she can demand him to, and then takes his sweet time packing up his belongings while she slides the book into the return box.

“Do you live on campus?” he asks. “I mean, did you drive here?”

“Drive here? I don’t even own a car,” she says. “No, I’m at Sunspear Hall.”

He’s never been inside that dorm, but he does know it’s all the way across campus. “Let me walk you,” he says. “My parents would have a field day if I don’t.”

He fully expects a refusal that would then lead to another argument when he insisted, but instead Rhaenys simply readjusts her backpack and says, “All right then.”

#robb stark #rhaenys targaryen #robb x rhaenys #asoiaf #gotfic #my fic #compliance: modern au #thundersnowstorm #mutual hatred of a professor can bring anyone together let me tell you

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fox-mother · 5 years

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Smol Harry Potter AU Kushi profile!

Introduction

Name: Kushina Uzumaki Also Known As: Kushi, Red-Hot Habanero, Tomato Girl Titles: The Bleeding Heart of London Age: 24 Birthday: July 10th Astrological Sign: Cancer Nationality: Japanese Species: Fox-Demon Blood Type: B Sex: Female Gender: Cisgender Pronouns: She/Her Orientation: Biromantic and Bisexual Past/Bio: Kushina was born in Japan to a couple of Fox-Demons. Their species is primarily found deep within Japans natural forests and as a result, they are hard to come by. Their hair (and pelts) are very valuable and rare because of this. Most commonly their hair is used as the centre of wands/adornments on the clothing of Japanese high-ranking wizards. Their form of magic is far more nature-based and they can shift forms at will. As they can only be found in Japan, they are a very unknown species in other countries. Kushina herself was born and raised to be wary of people who didn't share her packs distinctive red pelt or red locks. Her mischievous nature also got her into a fair amount of trouble with her parents and pack elders, especially a powerful demon called Mito. While the elderly fox-demon tutored Kushina extensively, she was also more of a grandmother to the younger rather than a teacher. One day, it all changed. A particularly volatile member of their pack decided to try fighting back and lost. Their place of hiding, a sacred forest in which humans dare not tread was set ablaze to drive the demons out. Her pack fought and fought hard, but ultimately they were overpowered and a good 98% of the pack was decimated. Only 8 escaped and managed to smuggle themselves away. Kushina, Mito, Nagato and a few others were among the lucky ones. They decided to split up, with Mito and Kushina going to England. Kushina spent the rest of her time in England, growing up with Mito. That was until her guardian told her that Hogwarts wanted her. She decided to attend Hogwarts, which she deems as her best choice yet. There, she met Namikaze Minato and Uchiha Mikoto who soon became her two best friends. She never, not even to them, revealed what she really was. They too were Japanese so she knew that they'd know what she is. Kushina left Hogwarts and eventually married Minato. The two lived quite quaintly, sort of isolated until Kushina got a business proposition. She accepted it and works as an Unspeakable for the Ministry. Kushina got pregnant a few years into her career and both her and Minato were ecstatic. The Uzumaki caught up with Mikoto and found out she had a son, Itachi, and was expecting another. The two became inseparable, with Kushina and Minato being babysitters for Mikoto and Fugaku as the three children grew.

About Him/Her

Personality: Kushina is a quick-to-anger, brash young lady with a heart of gold. She is fiercely protective of Minato, Naruto, Sasuke, Itachi and Mikoto, to the point of murder in some cases. She is kind, motherly and sweet to anyone who truly knows her. Occupation: Unspeakable Likes: - Her job - Her family - Chocolate - Strawberries - Dislikes: - Muggles - Pushy people - Rude people - Fugaku Uchiha - Hobbies: Sewing, baking and pranks Fears: Losing her family, friends and hope Strength: She's got a strong draw to nature and a lot of her power comes from that Weakness: She struggles with learning spells sometimes Talents: She's a talented Animagus, a talented Seer, can Apparate and perform Wandless Magic

Appearance

Height: 5'4 Cup Size: D Skin Tone: Pale Ivory Eye Color: Indigo Hair Description: - Colour: Red - Highlights: None - Length: Shins - Style: Loose - Worn: Up in a bun and in a ponytail Extra: - Scars: None - Piercings: Her ear and nose - Tattoos: A spiral on her upper back, between the shoulder blades, signifying her clan/pack - Facial Features: She's elegant, has sharp-ish fangs and large eyes with long eyelashes - Scent: She smells of fire, dust and nature

Relationships

Father: Uzumaki Marihito Mother: Uzumaki Tsukiyama Siblings: Uzumaki Kyoumi (sister) Relatives: Uzumaki Mito (grandmother), Uzumaki Nagato (a distant cousin) and Uzumaki Karin (niece) Family Line of Work: None Family Background: Fox-demons were once a rare species who were known for their connections with nature. Their fiery red hair and pelts often made them targets for poachers and slave labourers. Naturally, all of them were peaceful and meant no harm, unless directly provoked by a passing hunter or muggle. Muggles didn't know what they were and caused them to retreat further into their woods to survive. They were shifters, able to naturally change their shape into that of a fox from birth. Their magic also was directly linked to nature, with them able to cast shielding spells from young ages. They are naturally very curious and a few who got too close to the wizards and witches who hunted them were often never seen again. Their whole pack/clan was decimated by wizards when one firey upstart decided he wanted revenge. It left the few that lived scattered over the globe as they struggled to survive. There are very few fox-demons who are still alive, as some were hunted and some just naturally passed away. Best Friends: Uchiha Mikoto Friends: Haruno Mebuki and Sabaku no Karura Love Interest: Namikaze Minato Enemies: Uchiha Fugaku

Education

School: Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry House: Hufflepuff Best Core Class: Herbology Worst Core Class: Transfiguration Elective: Care of Magical Creatures and Divination Quidditch: Beater Extra-Curricular: Earth Magic

Magic

Wand: - Length: 12" - Flexibility: Reasonably supple flexibility - Wood: Rowan wood - Core: Unicorn hair Pets: None Boggart: Hunters Animagus: Fox Patronus: Black Stallion Amortentia: A bouquet of roses

Affiliations/Alliances

Home Town: Rural Japan Residence: A quaint cottage a few miles outside of London Loyalty: Neutral Organizations: Ministry of Magic, Order of the Phoenix

Extra Information

Quotes: "It's nothing personal, but you need to shut up before I rip your head off." Theme Song: Monster by Skillet Food: Anything spicy or sweet Drink: Water or sake if she's feeling down Colour: Red Animal: Fox Flower: Sakura blossoms Season: Summer

#(Boo Boo Bear: OOC Post)#(Magic And Mysteries: Harry Potter!AU)

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illuminating-dragons · 6 years

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Kin (11/72): Taking Care

James Potter was an only child with ghosts for siblings. His mother and father told him from a very young age that he had half-a-dozen brothers and sisters, they just hadn’t lived very long.

“The longest any of them lived was four days,” his mother told him once. “On your fifth day we threw a party.”

James was six that day.

So James grew up knowing that he was the youngest of many, and that somehow he’d managed to live longer than any of them. And he saw his mother’s grief, the way she murmured names sometimes late at night. He saw his father’s pain, when he gave James the cloak.

“It’s for you, son,” he said.

Except it wasn’t, really, because it should have been for Timothy. Or Helena, or Judith, or Ian, or Claire, or Christopher. James should have been the one clamoring for a turn with it, not using it as his own.

But most of the time, James had a fantastically happy childhood. His parents put their grief aside more often than not, and they spoiled him just a touch with gifts and privileges. Never with attention or love, though. You can’t spoil a child with those things.

Still, James wanted siblings. He knew his parents couldn’t give him any, so he went and found some himself, Remus and Sirius and Peter. He found out that being a brother meant fights and annoyance, and it meant sacrifice and support. It meant working feverishly to learn to change his body, it meant giving Sirius sanctuary and not going to fight his family, because it would only make things worse. And it meant feeling a little annoyed by Peter and how strange he seemed sometimes, but it didn’t matter. Brothers were brothers.

The war came for James in a surprising way. His parents were never “proud” of being Pureblood, but James knew somewhere in the back of his mind that he did have privilege because of that. He was never harassed by anyone, never wondered about his future, never worried about money. Still, he was willing to believe that the so-called ‘Death Eaters’ could never gain any traction. Surely people weren’t that stupid.

But then he heard Severus Snape call Lily Evans a Mudblood, and James knew war was coming. It sounded overly dramatic in his own head, but he knew that Snape was in love with Lily. But he’d still thrown that slur, still called her out in front of a huge crowd.

It was a wake-up call for James, watching those last couple weeks of term when Lily shrank into herself, when she was walking alone, when she ate without speaking. In James’ eyes, Lily had always been popular, but something must have changed. While he’d been watching her, loving her, other people must have begun to pull away. Whether it was because of Snape or her blood status, James had no idea. It was probably a mixture of both, because Gryffindor girls didn’t speak to her and the Slytherins started to harass her.

When sixth year began, James had two goals. He was going to throw himself into the resistance effort at school, because it was getting stupid. And he was going to make sure that Lily Evans was as happy as possible. There was a happy place in the middle of those goals, because Lily should never have to feel lesser because of her blood, and neither should anyone else.

Suggesting that Lily join the Charms club was the beginning, and encouraging Remus to study with her was another part. James also backed off from her, not asking her out once the entire year. He kept up with small gifts (sent by his second owl), and he never really stopped loving her. But he had to put her first, and she didn’t want him. He could live with that, as long as she was smiling and safe.

The resistance was actually more difficult. Discovering the rotten underbelly of the student body, all the secret hatred, all the anonymous acts of anger, wasn’t that hard. James couldn’t understand how he’d never seen it before, but of course he hadn’t. No one saw any need to harass James Potter, after all. Sirius had always had to deal with the ‘blood traitor’ thing, but James knew that his friend’s role came more because of his family’s cruelty than their beliefs, though they were closely tied.

No, the difficult thing was figuring out what to do about it. The Marauders could play pranks and have duels in the halls with the worst of the ‘Death Eaters’, and take those detentions with pride. They’d been doing that for years though, and James wanted a better solution. He and his brothers wanted to make sure that the movement could be crushed before it got beyond words and cruel tricks.

But their last visit to Hogsmeade that year proved it was already too late.

Black robed figures strode down the street, some clearly students but others were grownups, and they tore into people. They must have had some kind of list, because James saw them step by people who were pureblood, and instead try to trample the Muggleborns. Curses were flying everywhere, and James watched in horror as people stood in the street and just…watched. They didn’t stop anything, they didn’t raise a protest. All they did was watch.

James leapt into the fray, dragging a couple of second years—second years, they were only twelve years old—away from a leering Death Eater. Sirius and Remus were helping too, Sirius mixing curses and expletives at the same time, and Remus created a shield and urged kids and adults alike over. Peter ran up the street. “I’m going for the Professors!” he shouted over his shoulder.

People were starting to come together, and the Death Eaters were getting pushed back. James was still looking for Lily in the crowd, and his heart stopped when he saw her facing off against not one, but three Death Eaters. Her back was to Zonko’s wall, and her face was pale as she threw curses.

One thing went through James’ head—Lily’s not very good at Defense Against the Dark Arts. She wasn’t even in the NEWT class.

He reached into his bag before he thought about it, and threw a Dungbomb. Out of habit, he threw it just to Lily’s right, so that she wouldn’t get the full blast.

The Dungbomb worked to perfection, and it bought James enough time to get over to Lily’s side. The Death Eaters reeled back, coughing hard. Their hoods slipped, and James’ heart stopped. One of them was Lucius Malfoy, who was married to one of Sirius’ cousins. One of them was Bellatrix Lestrange, who was Sirius’ cousin.

The third was Severus Snape.

Lily screamed out a curse James had never heard before, and Snape went flying backwards. James shook himself out of his shock, and he fired Stunning spells at Malfoy and Lestrange. The two dropped, and James reached for Lily. They had to go, had to get out of there…

Suddenly the air was filled with screams of fear, and James turned.

A man with deathly white skin and no nose stood in the square, red eyes glinting.

Voldemort was there. He raised his wand and pointed it at one of the houses, and the building caught fire. The crowd erupted into chaos, with people running and trying to hide. The Death Eaters seemed to gather courage from their leader, and they redoubled their efforts.

James looked at Lily. “Run. Get to the Shrieking Shack.” This was beyond curses, beyond words. Voldemort only came when people died. It was not going to be Lily.

Lily shook her head. She pointed her wand at the house Voldemort had set alight, and called, “Aguamenti!”

A small river seemed to pour from Lily’s wand, dousing the flames and—to James’ horror and amusement—Voldemort himself. He was dripping wet as he turned to face them, and his lips curled in a furious snarl.

James put himself in front of Lily, but before Voldemort could say more than “Avada”, Lily grabbed James’ hand, and yanked him into nothingness.

They reappeared a moment later, a few blocks away.

“What did you do?”

“I’m a witch!” Lily snapped. “I Apparated. Come on!”

They both dashed back into battle, James fighting every urge to tell Lily to stay out of it. She might be a target now, but he could just make himself a bigger one, and they might both make it out alive.

It turned out that they didn’t need to that day. A bird’s cry drew James’ attention towards the sky, and he saw Fawkes. A moment later, an eerie silence fell over the square. When he and Lily dashed in, Voldemort and most of the Death Eaters were gone. Dumbledore stood there looking furious, with McGonagall and Slughorn already starting to repair the damages.

To James’ relief, Sirius and Remus were okay, and Peter puffed up a moment later; he’d found the teachers already on the way to Hogsmeade. Lily went over to Snape, who was struggling against an oversized robe. She pointed her wand into his face. “You goddamn—”

“Lily? What’s…what’s happening?”

James looked around. The few Death Eaters remaining were pulling off their hoods, revealing themselves to be students. One of them was Marlene MacKinnon, for fuck’s sake. What had happened?

James did eventually hear the story—apparently the Death Eaters ambushed some of the students outside Madam Puttifoots, and Imperiused them into participating. None of them could remember a thing, and James believed them. But only because Snape tried to hurt Lily. He would never have done that, not really.

He and the others were carted off to the Hospital Wing despite furious protests. Sirius’ leg was cut, sure, and Remus had been hit with some horrible purple fire, but James was fine, completely fine, and he didn’t need to go to the Hospital Wing—

That was the last thing he remembered before he collapsed into Lily’s arms. Adrenaline had kept him from feeling the burns on his arms and legs, sustained when he was dragging people out of the way.

James woke up in the Hospital Wing to sunset light streaming into the room, lighting up Lily’s face as she sat beside his bed. It was a long-cherished dream of his, so of course James spoiled it by saying only, “you soaked Lord Voldemort.”

Well, he thought he’d spoiled it. But when Lily giggled, and that turned into a laugh—he hadn’t heard her laugh out loud in so long—well, perhaps he hadn’t.

Exams were an utter joke that year, because so many parents had yanked their children out of school within two days of the attack. James had to argue with his parents to let him stay. “My family is here!” he snapped. “And I’m not afraid of them.”

But he was afraid of the way some students thought it was a complete joke, or that it wasn’t that bad because no one died. They quoted articles from the Daily Prophet that called it a prank; they quoted their parents who thought it was somewhat justified. “They shouldn’t have gone after the kids, but the others—I heard one of the shop owners brings their Muggle sister to visit! What if she talked? That can’t be allowed, can it?”

Even some of the teachers were giving the attacks a positive spin. Professor Shilling actually gave James detention after a bitter class dispute. “The Death Eaters might have strong tactics, but they are trying to protect wizard kind!” she snarled.

“They were going to kill Lily Evans!” James shouted back. “They almost killed a dozen more people. Fucking Voldemort set a house on fire with people inside!”

It was the best detention he’d ever served, especially since part way through McGonagall came in, her nostrils flared in fury, and dragged James out. She gave him ginger biscuits, told him that Shilling was being sacked, and that he wasn’t to give up.

“I didn’t know it was this bad,” James said hopelessly, munching on a cookie. “How are people listening to them? I thought it was just words, but it’s gotten so much worse.”

“It’s been words for longer than you might think,” McGonagall said gently. “Voldemort has been around for over a decade, and the first children who heard it are becoming adults. And there are people who remember Grindelwald, and the arguments sound right.”

“He isn’t going to win, is he Professor?” James asked. It was a childish question, but he didn’t know what else to say.

Professor McGonagall shocked him by pulling him into a hug. “I don’t know, Potter,” she answered. “I think there are better people in power than him, and I think there’s still goodness in wizards. But we have to keep up the fight.”

“I’m going to,” James determined. “I don’t want to be a Healer anymore, Professor. I want to be an Auror.”

Professor McGonagall released him. “I would advise against that, Potter.”

“I can learn to fight better—”

“Of course. I don’t doubt your potential, James. But it might be wiser to…to stay away from government-organized fighting, if you want to make a difference.”

“Why?”

“Because they will be Voldemort’s first targets,” Professor McGonagall said quietly. “And I would be surprised, honestly, if there hasn’t been action there already.”

“Then what do I do?!”

“Finish your exams,” McGonagall answered. “Keep up with your friends, and hold them close. Don’t let ignorance and hatred go unchallenged this summer, whatever you can do. As for next year…I’d like you to consider becoming Head Boy.”

“Me?” James asked, stunned. “But I’ve never been a prefect.”

“That’s merely tradition, Potter. Mr. Lupin has expressed a wish not to be Head Boy, and he recommended you as a candidate.”

That sounded a lot like Remus. “But I don’t know how to do that. And I won’t—I’m still going to be me.”

“You’re going to be a leader,” McGonagall said firmly. “And you can do that better than the prefects. They’re good at playing their roles—they’re strong pillars. But they need someone to help them. Someone who sustained major burns saving total strangers, for example.”

“Do you want me to do this, Professor?”

“I do. But I’m not the only one. Mr. Lupin recommended you, but so did the future Head Girl.”

James was puzzled.

“Miss Evans was informed last night, and Professor Dumbledore and I asked her if she had a preference for her partner. She told me in no uncertain terms—” a flicker of a smile flew across McGonagall’s face—“that she didn’t want to serve with anyone but you.”

Lily Evans had chosen him. James swallowed hard. Now it wasn’t just his favourite teacher, but the girl he still loved, as many times as he told himself to stop. He had to do this right.

“I’ll do my best, Professor,” he promised sincerely.

He wandered the corridors for nearly an hour, safe under his Cloak, trying to understand, trying to make a plan for the following year.

When he got back to the Common Room at last, it was empty except for Lily, who was sitting in one of the big chairs near the fire. She was staring into the flames. James wanted to leave her in peace, but he tripped over a forgotten bag and fell, tangled in the Cloak.

Lily sprang up. “James? Is that you?”

She had never called him James.

“Yeah, it’s me.” James willed his blush away as he disentangled himself from the Cloak.

“Is that your Invisibility Cloak?” Lily asked, kneeling beside him.

James thought about bluffing. But then he realized what she’d said.

“Hold on, did you know?”

“There’s no way you could have gotten around all of the Prefect’s traps,” Lily pointed out. “You had to be using something. A Cloak seemed the most obvious.”

“Aren’t you clever, Evans?”

“Could I see it?”

James shook out the Cloak and handed it to her without a thought. He’d never shown the cloak to anyone except his brothers; it was a family heirloom. But Lily could see it. That was fine.

Lily ran her fingers over it. “This is beautiful. How old is it?”

“Not sure. My dad said it’s been in our family for generations, but even he’s not sure exactly.”

“That’s really unusual, you know. Most of them lose their potency after a few years. Invisibility Charms aren’t very strong.” Lily kept playing with the folds.

James gently—he didn’t want to scare her—took the cloak from her, and draped it around her shoulders. The edges of her long hair were invisible now, and so were her hands and shoulders. Lily looked down at herself in wonder.

“I wish I had one of these,” she whispered.

James bit his lip, wishing that he could give it to her. But there was no way she’d accept it. “Is it that horrible?”

“Ever since Hogsmeade, it’s gotten worse. It’s like people aren’t afraid to say things anymore. They don’t feel like they are in the wrong.”

“They are wrong,” James said firmly. “And they’re going to lose. I’ll do everything in my power to make sure of that.”

Lily smiled. “That’s why I picked you for Head Boy. I know things are going to be harder next year, and you take care of people really well.”

“I want to look out for my family,” James answered. “And I want to make sure that everyone is safe. This school is for learning, not for hatred.”

“I hope it stays that way,” was all Lily said in return. She passed him the Invisibility Cloak, and then went upstairs.

Three days later summer holidays started. James and Sirius went home together, and his parents welcomed them back.

“Are you boys getting involved in this?” James’ mother asked, showing a Daily Prophet article with pictures of them both in Hogsmeade.

“Yes,” James said, unsurprised when his brother echoed it. “However we can.”

That’s when James found out that his parents were involved in a quiet resistance too. They’d seen the tide turning long before that year, and they worked with other people to defend Muggleborns at work, at home, and to help with Muggle-Wizard relations.

Sirius went right to work helping with that. James helped too, but something was nagging at him. Sure, they could all sit in a room and talk about strategy, and putting up defensive spells and alarms was a great idea. He met Arthur Weasley, a Junior Minister in the Muggle Relations department, and they spent two weeks working on procedures to detect the misuse of Muggle artifacts. But James couldn’t help remembering the battle in Hogsmeade, and how fighting like that had felt completely right.

But with no real direction, James spent the summer helping his parents and writing to his other brothers. The Marauders all came to stay the last two weeks, right when they were starting to hear about people disappearing. Two Muggleborns, Hyacinth Rettle and Trudy Dench, went missing within days of each other. Rettle was one of Arthur Weasley’s bosses, and Dench was a comedian who’d made several jokes about how stupid the Death Eaters were, and how cowardly. “At least your noseless boss shows his face!” James’ parents and a few others started looking for evidence, for bodies, anything to show that there’d been a crime, but by the time September first came around, there were no signs of anyone. The Daily Prophet on September 1st actually said that both women were simply on sabbatical.

“So they’ve gotten to the Prophet”, James’ father sighed. “I suppose we can try the Quibbler.”

Going back to Hogwarts felt like a horrible dream. There were fewer students than James had ever seen; the train was less than a quarter full. Everyone was tense, and parents were saying far more emotional goodbyes.

The worst part, though, had to be the parents who dropped their children off with no fear. Why should they be afraid for their children? They were dressed in full Death Eater garb.

Dumbledore gave his usual speech at dinner that night to a near-silent Hall. When he finished, no one moved, not even as food appeared in front of them all.

“I want to reiterate something,” Dumbledore said at last. “So long as I am Headmaster in this school, there will be no capitulating to Voldemort.”

Several people flinched at the name.

“This school will remain safe for everyone.” The Headmaster’s brilliant blue gaze swept over them all. “We have amplified our security, and there will be Aurors at the gates to do spot-checks. Anyone who disagrees with this position should be prepared for the consequences—immediate expulsion. We are all here because we have magic in us, and we want to cultivate that magic. This has nothing to do with blood, and everything to do with our gifts. That is all I can say, because there is no simpler way to say it. Now, try and eat your dinners. You’ve had a long train ride.”

The room broke out into chatter, albeit subdued, and people started to eat. James found it hard to swallow the shepherd’s pie, and Remus had his head bowed. Lily still wasn’t eating properly, and James pushed the apples her way—they were her favourite.

When the last of the plates were clear, Dumbledore stood up again. “I would like to announce the Head Boy and Head Girl this year. They will be James Potter, and Lily Evans, both of Gryffindor House. Stand up, please.”

James got to his feet, and Lily got up too, though much more slowly. There was some clapping, but most people were silent.

One person started snarling. “I’m not getting bossed around by a fucking Mudblood!” It was Trevor Smith, an idiotic sixth year Hufflepuff. James pulled out his wand, but Professor Sprout interrupted him.

“Get out, Trevor. Go and get your things, and you’ll be on the train home. I will write to your parents so they know you’re coming.”

“Better than being in this dump!” Smith shouted over his shoulder as he strode away. “Fucking Mudbloods and blood traitors, the lot of you are going to ruin wizardkind.”

“If I ruin people like you, Smith, I’m very happy about that,” Lily called after him.

That got a few laughs. James squeezed Lily’s hand. “Well done you,” he whispered.

That was the last real night that they could be happy. The last time they could believe that the war might end with talking, and that stronger wills would prevail.

The castle itself was never attacked, but Hogsmeade was attacked twice. The second one was just before the regular Christmas holiday weekend, and there were four deaths. This cancelled all the trips, which meant everyone had to stay in the castle and have no time at all to relax, to pretend the war wouldn’t affect them.

That day Lily found James crying. He was just sitting on his broom, not really flying, just hovering a couple of feet off the ground. She didn’t say a word, she just hopped up (she could always jump so high) and sat next to him on the broom.

“I hate this,” James whispered at last. “I don’t want to deal with this. I don’t want to find out about all of this. But I have to, because if I don’t things might get worse.”

“That’s not up to you, you know.” Lily leaned her head on his shoulder. “I hate it too, and I don’t understand what’s so terrible about me.” She started to shake, and James saw that she was crying. “I’m a freak to my sister, and a Mudblood to these wizards. I’m never the right person.”

“You’re the perfect Head Girl,” James answered. “You’re doing brilliantly with all of these people, even the ones who are cruel. You’re always so brave.” He swallowed hard. “I wish you didn’t have to be.”

Lily didn’t say anything for a minute. “I’ve never been on a broom properly.”

That made James smile. “Right, you’re scared of them.” Their first year flying class had been one of the most wonderful moments of his life, for Sirius’ idiotic hovering upside down, to Remus shooting straight up into the air, to Lily running screaming from a broom that was trying to attack her.

“Do you know who did that?” Lily asked.

“I asked Madam Hooch about it last year,” James answered. “She said it was just a rogue broom—sometimes their Flight Charms go a bit mental.”

Lily actually laughed. “Well, yours is nice.”

“Do you want to come flying?” James asked. “I promise, I’ll go slow, and nothing bad will happen.”

Lily hesitated, but she nodded. James turned on the broom so he was facing the front, and he felt Lily wrap her arms around him. She was clinging to him tightly, and they weren’t in the air yet.

“Don’t worry, Lily. Everything’s going to be fine.”

James flew them around the grounds in slow loops, never going too high. It was peaceful to fly outside of Quidditch, just enjoying the view of Hogwarts. It made the problems feel a little bit farther away.

As they were flying over Hagrid’s hut, Lily actually let go of James with one hand to wave down. James waved too, and Hagrid made a thumbs-up sign. James flushed. He’d complained to Hagrid more than once about how Lily would never notice him, but he’d stopped that a year ago. Did Hagrid still think he was…in love with Lily?

Maybe he was. But he knew better now. It wasn’t going to happen, so he was going to keep his mouth shut and keep this girl happy.

“James, can we go faster?”

“Really, Lils? Can you handle that?” James looked over his shoulder, and saw Lily’s green eyes shining brighter than they had in months.

“Yes, come on!”

Grinning, James sped up; still not too fast, but faster now, and they started going higher.

“Faster!” Lily called.

James had an idea. “Let me know if we start going too fast, alright?”

Lily squeezed him around the waist, and James sped up.

Soon they were flying as fast as he would in a game of Quidditch, maybe even faster. The wind was completely messing up his hair, and his eyes were starting to water behind his glasses, but he didn’t stop. It was as fast as he could fly safely.

He turned his head as they flew over the lake, and saw Lily Evans looking absolutely delighted. Her braids had come undone and her hair flew in the wind, and her eyes were wide open. When she saw him looking, she laughed. “Jay, it’s wonderful!”

James laughed too, and they did several loops around the lake, swerving sharply to make Lily shriek and climbing high and falling because it was so much fun. Finally, James started to slow down.

“Is there something wrong, James?” Lily asked.

“No, it’s just…thank you for cheering me up.” James took a deep breath. “And I wanted to make sure you knew that I’m not trying to come on to you, I just want you to be happy because you’re amazing and you deserve to be happy always—”

Lily slid away from him. For a wild minute, James thought she was going to jump into the almost-frozen over lake. But she was just turning, sitting sideways on the broom. Puzzled, James copied her.

“Look down there,” Lily said, pointing.

James looked down and huffed out a laugh. The Giant Squid was at the surface, its tentacles poking through holes in the ice.

“I told you once that I wouldn’t go out with you if it was a choice between you and the Giant Squid, remember?”

Yes, James remembered that day.

“But that was before…well, everything. You changed, James. Or maybe you just stopped being a prat, and you were always like this. I don’t really know, it sounds like that from what Remus tells me.”

“You were right,” James said, not sure where this was going. “I was awful. I had to stop.”

“Did…” Lily trailed off. “Did your feelings for me change too, then?”

James’ throat went dry. “Lily—”

“Because,” Lily said hurriedly, “it seems like you’re treating me like a good friend, which is lovely, but knowing you better…it’s like I saw you for the first time, really saw you. And I…I do want to go out with you. It’s okay if you don’t want to, if things have changed, but I wanted you to know that.”

James swallowed hard. “Lily, can I kiss you?”

“Only if I get to kiss you first,” Lily said, and she kissed him, threading her fingers through his hair. James held her waist with one hand, keeping her steady, and put the other on her back, wanting to pull her closer, to feel her fully, because he could hardly believe this was real. Was he dreaming?

When Lily pulled away, her eyes were shiny. “Sorry, Squid!” she shouted. “I know you and I might have had something special, but I think I’m keeping Jay!”

James’ laughter rang out across the lake, and he sped the broom to the shore, leaping off and pulling Lily into his arms for a proper kiss. Lily kissed back with such enthusiasm James lost his balance, and they both toppled into the snow.

“YESSSSSS!”

James craned his head back and groaned. “Oh, no.”

Sirius, Remus and Peter were there, Sirius literally jumping up and down. “Fucking finally!”

“How the hell did you three find out?”

“Well you two were flying around the castle, and we saw you.” Remus explained. “So we started watching.”

“You two will be a great couple,” Peter said fondly.

Lily buried her face in James’ chest, and James laughed, playing with her hair. “You know what the gossip is like at Hogwarts, Lils. I’m glad it was them first.”

“If I wasn’t the first to know I would have murdered you both,” Sirius said calmly. “Now come inside before you catch your deaths. You can’t snog in the Hospital Wing!”

Quick as a flash Lily sat up, a snowball in her hand, and she threw it directly at Sirius. It caught him square in the mouth, and he stumbled back, sputtering.

Lily jumped to her feet. “Come on, Jay!” she shouted. “We can take them.”

They would argue about who won that snowball fight for years, but James never really cared. He’d won something amazing that day; the love of the girl he loved. Not that she was a prize, but for the first time James felt like he’d actually succeeded in changing himself.

Loving Lily, and her loving him, made the next few months more bearable. It got worse outside the castle walls, and more and more students were being pulled out, some because their families were going abroad, and others because their kids were of age, and there were other things for them to do. James watched in consternation as Severus Snape followed McNair and Goyle out. Everyone knew where they were going. Lily was quiet that day, and stayed cuddled in his arms as long as she could, even in class. None of the teachers said a word.

But the war was really coming now, and the Ministry was starting to release Blood Purity rules—just to keep wizard kind safe, they said. Lily finally cried when she saw a Daily Prophet article announcing that Muggleborns would have to pass a special series of exams, beyond NEWTs, in order to be hired, just to make sure that they were truly loyal.

“I can’t take those tests, James,” Lily sobbed. “I can’t…it’s not fair…I won’t do it.”

Professor McGonagall pulled them both out of their first class and brought them up to see Dumbledore. Sirius, Remus, and Peter joined them at the gryphon, and James swallowed hard. What was happening? Were they about to be advised to leave Lily alone?

I won’t do it.

But it wasn’t only Dumbledore in there. There was a whole crowd of people of different ages. Some James had never seen before, but he recognized Alastor Moody, and he’d played Quidditch with Fabian and Gideon Prewett. Fabian waved to him, and James nodded back.

“What’s going on?”

Dumbledore’s normally cheerful expression was very grave indeed. “The five of you already know what’s been happening lately. Voldemort is gathering more followers every day, and the Ministry is beginning to listen. You’ve seen the new laws.”

“Load of absolute filth,” Moody snarled. His eyes darted all over the room, like he was checking for Death Eaters.

“All five of you have shown great initiative in working against Voldemort and his ilk. I am gathering a group of people who are ready to fight by all means necessary to protect wizard kind from Voldemort.”

“I’m in,” Lily said immediately.

“Miss Evans, you do need to think about it—”

“I’ve been thinking about it for months, Professor. There’s nothing for me after school because my parents aren’t magic. And I don’t want to just go back to the Muggle world. I have the right to be here. I’m willing to fight for it. I know I’m not grand at duelling—”

“Weren’t you the girl that dumped water on Voldemort?” Moody interrupted her.

“That was sort of an accident,” Lily admitted. “I never thought it would land on him. But I’d happily do it on purpose. And I know lots of charms and potions, I could help that way.”

“We’re going to need potions,” Gideon said. “We have families to protect, and Polyjuice might make things less risky.”

“We’re in as well,” James said. He didn’t need to look at his brothers; he knew that he spoke for all of them. “We want this git pulled down.”

Dumbledore smiled, but it was weary. “Do think about it, though. You are all very young, and this will be dangerous.”

“It’s dangerous to do nothing, too,” James said. “That’s why we’re in this mess; too many people did nothing.”

“Good lad.” That was a man James had never seen before. He stretched out a dark hand. “I’m Kingsley Shacklebolt, I work with Alastor in the Auror department.”

“James Potter. Pleasure. So…what do we do now?”

“Are there any other students in your year that you think would be good for this type of effort?”

James thought about it. “Frank Longbottom’s a good bloke, and he’s been very loud about how much he hates Voldemort. He’s going to be an Auror.”

“So’s Alice,” Lily said. “And Marlene MacKinnon’s cousin went missing last week. She’s ready to burn the world down if it means she gets revenge.”

“Meet with them, then,” Dumbledore instructed them. “See what they can do.”

By the time NEWTs were over, the Order was finalized. Lily took a job at the Apothecary, and James started doing some charity work, investing money into different projects. It had to be obvious that they were doing something with their time. Lily moved in with the Marauders, the Prewett twins built a meeting place, and Alice and Frank got married.

That made James think about rings, but he and Lily had only been going out for six months, that wasn’t near enough time to propose marriage. He was happy to have her in his bed, at his side when they fought together, flying at night. The only time they didn’t spend together were full moons, because Lily wasn’t an Animagus yet. “I’ll learn it,” she promised.

The words in the paper grew uglier, and now people weren’t just going missing, they were being arrested for crimes against the wizarding society. The lucky ones ended up in Azkaban. The names of the unlucky ones were added to a growing list, because they deserved to be honoured by the Order.

But then something happened that shook James to his core, that shook his family to the core.

His parents fell ill.

It was the Cough, and they were both older, and they were inseparable, so they got it together. James and Sirius took turns sitting in St. Mungo’s between missions, and Lily came with him one time. That was the night that one of the Healers told James that his parents weren’t going to get better, and that it would be kinder to let them live out their days at home.

That night Lily had a long conversation with his parents, which James missed because he was called out to a fight in the lobby. It turned out to be nothing, and when he got back Lily took his hands. And then she knelt.

“James Potter, we’ve got no idea whether we’re going to live or die, but I know I want to spend every single day with you until then. And your mum and dad…they have a deadline. Will you marry me?”

The proposal made James cry, partly with joy and partly with pain.

They had to throw a wedding together in less than a week, but Alice lent Lily her dress and Sirius organized a riotous stag party (which, yes, did end with him in stag form—it was a brilliant choice because stags couldn’t get hangovers). Lily’s parents drove up to London, and James let Lily cry into his shoulder because Petunia and her ridiculous husband weren’t with them.

And that day, when James walked down with his frail parents, and Lily followed with hers, and Sirius managed not to lose the simple golden bands studded with emeralds, and Lily was so beautiful in her white dress and they smiled in their pictures because something as simple as a wedding could still happen.

They did go away to the tropics for a few days, just long enough for James to get a stupidly dark tan and Lily to get terrifically sunburnt. It was relaxing to not have to carry their wands, and swim and have sex when they wanted and cuddle when they wanted.

When they got back, they stayed with James’ parents, along with the Marauders. James and Lily were still on ‘honeymoon’ leave, but Remus and Peter quietly covered Sirius’ shifts. The three were all there together when James’ parents died.

Now James was an eighteen year old orphan with a wife in the middle of a war. It hurt, of course it did. But the war did distract him from his heartache, and Lily was wonderful.

The next year things just kept getting worse. It was obvious that Voldemort was gaining power more quickly than the Order gained supporters. There were too many of them in government, too many of them who were influencers, too many with power. Fighting the Death Eaters in their stupid cloaks and hats was easy, but when the fight ended and both sides retreated, the Death Eaters could take them off and go back to their jobs. If anyone was the wiser, they were too scared to say anything.

It was easy to be discouraged, easy to sit and grieve the loss of normalcy. And when Order members began to die—when the fight moved beyond curses to Unforgiveables—James wondered very briefly if there was any point to trying. No matter what they did, they kept losing. Why not just give up?

He never voiced that worry, because the day he was going to bring it up, Lily ran into their room and burst into tears.

“I’m pregnant.”

At first James thought she was joking. She had to be; they so rarely made love anymore it was easy to be careful. For Merlin’s sake, they used protection every single time. Every time.

But Lily was indeed pregnant; Madam Pomfrey confirmed it. Lily curled trembling in James’ arms, her stomach still flat that chilly November day. Madam Pomfrey looked between them, and gently offered another option.

“You could end this pregnancy, Lily. If you don’t want a child. I know that you’re involved in the war. You can think about it.”

They stayed up all night talking, and in the morning they went to an Order meeting. Lily announced her pregnancy, and Alice burst into tears and announced hers. James and Frank shared a look of genuine understanding.

Lily and Alice didn’t go out to fight anymore, but they were always at Headquarters, so they were still involved. James kept fighting, realizing that he had a little life to fight for now, one that would be helpless. That fight took him away from Lily far too often, and he nearly missed his child’s birth because of it. But when little Harry James lay in his arms, James knew it was worth it. He would do anything for his son.

They had one beautiful, quiet month. He and Lily went away with Frank and Alice and little Neville, and they didn’t sleep much and spent a lot of time walking the floors at night and watched the little boys slowly learn the world. The Marauders came to stay for the last week, and Sirius cooed over both of them and Remus helped take care of Lily and Alice and Peter quietly ran errands.

They were all there the day Dumbledore showed up, his face grave and sad, and told them about the prophecy.

James would have screamed, but he knew he would wake the boys. It’s not fair, he wanted to shout. It’s not fucking fair that us fighting is going to put our sons in danger.

Hearing that Neville was safe was a relief as much as hearing that Harry was chosen by Voldemort hurt. Alice sobbed, but Lily just stayed quiet. The only thing she asked Dumbledore was whether they could be spared from the fight.

It wasn’t the best timing, because Fabian and Gideon had just died, and Voldemort’s attacks had increased, but Dumbledore nodded.

Lily didn’t speak again the rest of the day. She took care of Harry, and held him close to her the entire time, but she didn’t say a word.

James knew her well enough by now to make the others leave her be, and to bring her to bed when it got dark, with Sirius and Remus promising to look after Harry that night. He laid her down on the bed, and he laid down next to her and waited.

It didn’t take long for the sobbing screams to break from her, for Lily to writhe desperately and call out desperate prayers. James couldn’t hold her when she got like this, she always felt so guilty when she hurt him. All he could do was hold her hand, ignore the crunch of bones, and wait.

Eventually Lily exhausted herself and curled into him, and they talked. Going into hiding abroad was an option, but it would be so dangerous. Their evacuation procedures were risky as it was, and if Voldemort got even a hint that Harry was with them…especially now that he thought Harry would be the end of him…no loyalty could ever be enough.

Except family. So the next morning James and Lily went downstairs and they asked Sirius to be their Secret Keeper. It was a very different conversation from when they asked him to be godfather, because Sirius didn’t cry then. Now Sirius wept and held Harry tightly, and promised.

So they went into hiding in Godric’s Hollow. Lily struck up quiet friendships with Muggles in the town, reasoning (fairly) that Voldemort would never think to ask them. But James just…couldn’t. Lily could give a false name and coo over other babies, but James was James. He was fine being with Lily and Harry, and being ‘Barney Evans’ wasn’t his cup of tea. He spent more time with Bathilda Bagshot or in the house, dealing with Order business from afar. It was driving him mad, reading reports of fights instead of being in them, but one look at his tiny son reminded him why. And he still had his Invisibility Cloak, so he could still go and visit his brothers. He never missed a full moon. Lily went on trips too, and James spent that time with Harry on the floor, watching his son play and turning into a stag to make Harry laugh, doing his best to make sure Harry didn’t feel any of the fear, any of the pain in the house. Sometimes he dreamed of the end of the war, when they could give Harry brothers and sisters. It was too dangerous now, but James was willing to have as many children as Lily wanted. He’d even started to look into taking a potion that would allow him to bear children. But that would have to wait for Voldemort to be gone. For now, it was bearable.

That was until Dumbledore asked to borrow the Cloak. It was a wrench to give it up, because at the same time it became too dangerous to even go outside. ‘Amy Evans’ moved away, and Lily returned to the cottage for good. Their only contact with the outside world was with Bathilda Bagshot (who hated Voldemort with an incredible passion) or when their brothers visited or sent letters, each one more depressing than the last.

Then one day Sirius showed up with his arms covered in bandages, Peter by his side.

“I can’t be your Secret Keeper anymore,” Sirius said hoarsely.

Apparently Voldemort himself had mounted an attack on their new headquarters (Marlene MacKinnon’s old house, empty after her murder). He’d cornered Sirius, demanding to know where James and Lily were. Only Peter’s quick actions had saved him from being killed.

“He knows how close we are, James,” Sirius said. His face twisted with grief. “Regulus must have told him before—before he was killed. And he knows how hard I’d fight for all three of you. But Peter hasn’t been fighting much lately, and he can go and hide with his Mum.”

James looked between his friends helplessly. Lily had Harry in her arms, her hair falling around the baby like a curtain.

“Peter, are you sure? This will put you in a lot of danger.”

Peter just nodded. “You’re my family. I’ll protect you.”

So the switch was done, and it was late October now, and they decorated for Halloween inside the house. Harry could stand on his own now and walk a little bit, and Voldemort had suddenly gone quiet. Maybe, just maybe, things would be okay for a little while.

And then Halloween night when it was Lily’s turn to put Harry to bed, James stopped making coloured smoke appear and laid down on the couch, putting his wand down.

When the door burst open a second later, James didn’t even grab his wand. It took a few seconds to understand what it meant—that Peter had betrayed them, because he was in hiding and couldn’t have been found, Dumbledore had promised.

And James was responsible.

Screaming for Lily to run, he dashed into the hall. He could slow Voldemort down if he transformed; a surprise stag appearance was bound to buy her a few seconds.

But James, who’d learnt the form for his family, who’d fought all this time for his family, couldn’t transform quickly enough. Emotions could tether you to your human form, and the grief of the betrayal froze him.

In the two seconds before he died, James understood that. And he understood that there wasn’t time to grab his wand. All he could do was buy his wife and son a few seconds.

He stood firm, facing a laughing Voldemort…

And then there was a green flash, and he was gone.

#james potter #james potter/lily evans potter #the marauders #fading scars verse #fading scars kin #acme146 fanfiction #crosspost from ao3

7 notes · View notes

thecrotchhand · 6 years

Text

health class >:(

-ug

-did somebody say rick of suicide

-”ooh, there’s a laser!” -student teacher

-good ways to manage stress- “punching a hole through the wall”

-”do you have a long-term goal?” “dying”

-”we should deport justin bieber back to canada”

-”if you say you're gonna do something, then do it" "i'm gonna kill myself ;))"

-"i'm busy singing Africa by Toto" *off-key singing continues*

-"when you lose weight, where does it go?" "it goes to weight heaven"

-the guy next to me started playing Africa quietly from his phone

-"i'm talking to bowl cut. just kidding chris. i love you." "...i'm getting a haircut."

-"you don't lift to get swole" -st

-"that sounds not good for you" "i'm gonna try it"

-"during pregnancy, the women in here are gonna need more folate, iron, and calcium" "no, i'm gonna need a coathanger"

-"liar liar pants for hire"

-"is eustress good stress or bad stress?" (long silence) "it's good stress! yay!" -st

-good ways to relax- "11 hours straight of anime"

-"everything's gonna be ok" lmao good joke

-"precipitation... wait i mean perspiration. it still counts, it's raining from your body."

-ways to manage depression- "kill yourself :D"

-help the teacher (flynn) has been yelling at us for the past five minutes

-uh oh she said damn it's gettin' wild

-she went back into her office after and all of a sudden we hear a quiet "oh, happy Wednesday"

-"is it possible to have an abortion 700 weeks late?"

-"what's the r-word we talked about?" "rawr XD"

-"what does autonomy mean?" "it's like grey's anatomy but for cars"

-alcoholism is a good sims trait

-guy: sneezes

guy's friend: "god bless... america"

-”what do you say to your sibling during an argument?” "you should've been aborted" “no”

- "your personality might be kind of boring" "like a potato!" "yeah"

-"what does down to earth mean?" "it means you're like the lorax, you speak for the trees"

-"he was happy?" "yeah! put him working with me and larson for ten years and... we fixed him!"

-the student teacher generally has a habit of sarcastic yaying and it entertains me

-"jason (chris) move your head" "just throw a rock at it, it'll move"

-someone was trying to come up with weird phobias and someone suggested genital herpes

-"sir you've been diagnose with hippopotomonstrosesquippedaliophobia " "aahHH"

-"if someone comes up to you and says a mean word, you're gonna be upset" "hey sam" "what" "fuck"

-"i found a big circle"

-"*cough* flynn"

flynn, out of nowhere: "i heard that"

-"have you guys seen cabin in the woods?" "wait, the one with the cabin in the woods?"

-:(

-"let's say you don't have a gun" "pft, not in america"

-we were talking about miscarriage and cody goes "fetus... deletus"

-examples of anger- "when mcdonald's doesn't have ice cream"

-video from the 80's: "depression isn't talked about"

-a seal saved this guy's life and he just: 'ah yes it was all because of god' ¿¿¿???

-80's commercials are the weirdest shit

-yepperdoodles

-"...gonna get addicted to xanax"

-"you guys all did a really good job on your tests" "i got a C" "i got a D+" "yeah there wasn't a single person i was not happy with"

-"you say you see really good scores, but what i'm seeing is a D"

-examples of compromise- "i got a D+, but i feel i deserved an A, so let's meet in the middle with a C" "but what do i get out of it?" "if he passes the class, you don't have to see him anymore"

-"oh no my one feeling"

-"what are some ways to resolve conflict?" "killing yourself"

-"put away the candy this is health class"

-(talking about conflict) "...then the fire nation attacked"

-(softly) "yo what the heck dawg"

-"if they started a rumor-" "kill them"

-"when i was-" "a young boy"

-"you got two more weeks with the student teacher, then you get me back" *high pitched screaming*

-"they never broke out, and then one of them broke out"

-"wrestling uniforms are skimpy"

-(across the room) "hey man, can i touch your butt?" "i don't mind, dude"

-"let's say my wife is going to leave me and i'm... celebrating! oh wait"

-"they're fat and skinny, they're white, black, pink, purple, and orange-" "trump"

-"listen, idiotface"

-"do you think... the government is hiding the cure for cancer...?"

-i love government conspiracy theories during health

-"i... declare... bAnkrUptCY"

-"are we watching a movie?" "maybe if we're lucky it's the ring and it'll kill us"

-lmao i don't need drugs to feel numb

-"aww, flynn, we know you're drinkin' a bottle in the back room" "yeah, just look at ya, why wouldn't i?"

-The Weed™

-"weed stops your sperm from being produced correctly" "perfect, it's birth control too"

-"weed might shrink your... parts" "i think i'll just stick to meth"

-"weed might give you a special needs child" "it's wilson 2.0!"

-"i'm gonna be a drug dealer but not a mean one like a nice, happy 'eyy, wanna buy some drugs? :3'"

-oh no, grandma's growing weed in the basement

-"ahh, the weed's on fire"

-"guess that's how they caught the drug dealers. the deer were high"

-teacher: "ooh, i just sounded like yoda: don't smoke The Weed™"

-"hey, where can you buy a still? asking for a cousin"

-"raise your hand if you want to watch hentai"

-this guy keeps responding to people with "yes, my child?"

-"they put aborted fetuses in vaccines" "oh honey no"

-"how do you keep yourself from getting sick?" "stop breathing"

-examples of painkillers- "cocaine"

-"i know elvis presley is still alive because the king never dies"

-biggest drinker in our grade: "am i gonna be an alcoholic?" class: "you already are"

-c o m p r o m i s i n g p o s i t i o n

-"trick question, i am hentai"

-"what would you do... if i said i could put you in your own hentai"

-"you're gettin' a hole in your nose oh my goodness"

-"depression" "nope" "wait... depression"

-"I can't remember the happiness i felt before drugs" "i can't remember feeling happiness at all"

-"oh you're back! just in time for meth"

-"oh my garage"

-"lotta meth in that town" "nah just incest"

-"it kills your brain cells. which some of you can't afford (staring directly at the class alcoholic)"

-"why do dentists have the highest suicide rate?? probably because everyone hates the dentist, i dunno"

-"that's accusations" "uuuuuhh no" "oh"

-"oh my gads. you got some meth?"

-"in the puss!" "terms" "sorry. vag!"

-"there's a pretty good chance that drug came out of someone's anal cavity" "that's why i don't do heroin"

-"hey, whose buttocks did this come out of?"

"i'm gonna go shoot myself with some dog food, brb"

-"oh my chicken pie"

-"i've been told we're gonna draw a penis"

-help they're genuinely discussing giving babies steroids

-"most of the female reproductive cells are useless" "just like my brain cells"

-the teacher keeps referring to developing babies as "little rat" and "alien creature"

-"if you eat my period snacks, i will eat you"

-*chiming* "is that santa??"

-"what's the only fluid that doesn't go to the baby?" "water" "no" "air" "no" "earth" "..." "fire"

-"you're supposed to snort those calcium pills" "don't snort the calcium pills"

-"mr. o'reilly, when'd you miss your period?"

-"is it true you puke the day after you get pregnant?" "no, if you puke the day after, it's from the alcohol the night before"

-fetus = jumbo shrimp

- i too, am a very sad lookin' heart

-"no, you cannot throw up your baby"

-"now that we've taken the baby home, we need to figure out what to do with it" "flush it down the toilet"

-"if you wear a hat all the time, all your hair is gonna fall out and die" "ha ha kevin, you're gonna die"

-"since i was 14. and i'm 112"

-"big dumb"

-"what do you want to be when you grow up?" "dead"

-"my parents say: 'hey... whatcha doin' with that 24-pack?'"

-"did jeffery dahmer's mom love him?" "hope not"

-"ohh i love the smell of babies *sniff sniff*"

-"they can be found in places that are... places"

-"why are there rotting apples under here?" "no you gotta let those ferment"

-"what's something you lose by age 3?" "hope"

-the guy in front of me had marvel porn on his phone????????????? hentai hulk's bright red ass is permanently ingrained in my mind

-"what am i supposed to do to live 2 more years? wrap myself in bubble wrap and eat brussel sprouts?"

-"for every 10 pounds overweight you are, subtract 1." "-50"

-"you're wearing a flamingo shirt, you're no one's favorite"

-"you don't snort viagra"

-"how do you feel about having guns in our home?" "how do you feel about how quickly i'd use it to kill myself?"

-"hey, 2 seniors walking down the hallway! wanna give her your papers?" "outta my way. hey! get back here and gimme your papers, ya bums."

-"it's not just the genitals that transfer STDs" "left calf"

-"what if they got an STD some other way?" "drinking sprite"

-"...serial monogamy-" "cereal is for mornings"

-"...trading sex for-" "chicken nugget"

-"you wanna try sex wearing a hazmat suit, go ahead" "don't kinkshame me"

-"STI: spaghetti time infection. it's an epidemic"

-"g- ross"

-"AIDS didn't come from sex with a monkey" "it's definitely about sex with monkeys"

-"what kinds of drugs do i need if i have AIDS?" "nothing, you wanna die"

-"do you know what they do to get rid of genital warts?" "chop your dick off" "mix wart cream with water and drink it"

-oh no they found out what they do get rid of genital warts

-"they shove a q-tip in your penis" "iiiiii'd rather die"

-"is that what tinder is? swipe right if you want crabs?"

-"i would suggest not setting your genitals on fire"

- "your penis doesn't do tricks"

-"do you have a driver's license? *nod* "do you have a car?" *nod* "are you a big boy?" *unsure nod*

-"i know it's only the last day but i will make you suffer for every last minute" "then i'll just do what i always do *sleeps*"

-our resident alcoholic was washing the board and people were jokingly flirting with him so he tied his shirt into a bikini and continued washing so the teacher docked him points for it. don't worry he was already failing

#quotes #notes #class #american school #american schools #meme #wtf #out of context quotes #offensive humor #i wouldn't be surprised if our class is the one that causes our teacher to become an alcoholic

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fanesavin · 7 years

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𝒴𝑒𝒶𝓇𝓈 𝟣-𝟦 𝒸𝑜𝓂𝓅𝒾𝓁𝑒𝒹

𝐵𝒶𝒸𝓀𝑔𝓇𝑜𝓊𝓃𝒹:

HP!Fane comes for a long line of morally grey pureblooded figures who are pretty shady. They’re an incredibly old-money family and essentially a more Eastern version of the Blacks.

His father is relatively neutral on the stance of elitism, his mother however takes her job as a pure blood very seriously and he has several siblings and has a pretty large family unit in this AU: at least one or two sisters, an older brother and a younger brother. His father is versed in but doesn’t practise dark arts whereas his mother and other siblings do and since the laws are more lax where he grew up they got away with it more easily.

At least one of his sisters is an animagus and can turn into a jaguar as well as being another legilimens. She’s also a generally very skilled witch and none of the other siblings are sure which version of her is scarier; her being a Legilimens and an Animagus. Essentially they’re just like like damn leave some talent for the rest of us please.

The Savins/Alois family have been on most watch lists for years as there are many rumours that they are a very long line of Dark Arts witches and wizards and at least considered very dangerous people. However, no one has ever managed to prove anything and any allegations are very circumstantial because they’re careful about what they do get up to and don’t actively associate with any cult figures or leaders that draw attention to themselves; Grindelwald and Voldemort being such examples.

His ancestors go back to viking origins and very archaeic and ancient runic based magic and runes is a subject he’s particularly skilled in. He’s also very good a potions because the Savins had their own greenhouse and apothecary at home in Romania and he had a decent amount of practise brewing potions growing up.

Same with flying

Fane comes from a very long line of pureblood witches and wizards with his family tree dating back to the viking era where many of his ancestors practised seiðr and galdr which was a sort of shamanism form of magi They were pretty well known for their skills in the arts of divination, clairvoyance, transformation and legilimency. There are also a few metamorphmagi in the family tree as well. His ancestors were some of the first students admitted to Durmstrang and almost every generation since has attended and graduated from their curriculum. He’s one of the few students who never completed his entire education there.

Father: Alistair Savin (former head of the Romanian Department of International Magical Cooperation and now working as a European liaison with the Ministry of Magic)

Mother: Katerina Savin (works for the international magical office of law)

Older sister: Alexandra Savin (journalist, animagus and legilimens)

Older brother: Ivan Savin (legilimens)

Older sister: Christina Savin (healer)

Himself: Stefan Savin (parseltongue)

Younger brother: Erich Savin

Cousin: Daniela Octavia Savin/Lovel (Seer)

𝐹𝒾𝓇𝓈𝓉 𝓎𝑒𝒶𝓇 (𝒞𝒽𝒶𝓂𝒷𝑒𝓇 𝑜𝒻 𝒮𝑒𝒸𝓇𝑒𝓉𝓈):

Fane’s family moved to London just after he completed his first term at Durmstrang and he was consequently transferred to Hogwarts around Christmas.

Fane’s a parseltongue and he thinks he’s going mad when he can hear the Basilisk in the walls. Half the school is convinced Harry is the heir to Slytherin and the other half think it might be this transfer student from one of potentially the darkest Wizarding schools and long-standing dark arts lineages in the world.

During his first year Fane’s father goes missing and it’s a big scandal but the family do try to keep it hush hush, Katerina Savin is convinced muggles killed him. Fane isn’t entirely sure what he thinks about it honestly. His father wasn’t really ever very present in his life.

Fane gets so fed up with Lockheart.

“We never learn ANYTHING useful in his class”

He really enjoyed DADA at Durmstrang and was so looking forward to that class and it’s such a disappointment.

This explains why he began teaching himself things outside of lessons, between Lockheart, generally being seen as a bit of an outsider due to his late start and transfer status along with the rumours that circulate about his family resulted in him not being particularly ‘close’ to many other students at the start of his education and mostly just delved into his studies.

He likes Snape at first, because Snape seems to like him and treats him as if he is special and little Fane is very hungry for that. He's a Savin so of course he gets preferential treatment from Snape and he's too young to see anything wrong with it. It's only when Snape starts picking on the few people Fane has sort of become friendly with that he discovers he doesn't like that as much and he's not sure what to do.

𝒮𝑒𝒸𝑜𝓃𝒹 𝓎𝑒𝒶𝓇 (𝒫𝓇𝒾𝓈𝑜𝓃𝑒𝓇 𝑜𝒻 𝒜𝓏𝓀𝒶𝒷𝒶𝓃):

Fane was considering not returning after all the heir of Slytherin nonsense but Alex convinced him to come back.

Fane on the train with the dementors: he still has all the self doubt after the heir of Slytherin nonsense. He doesn't faint but it’s definitely rough and he sits there in the compartment with his head between his knees for a long time-- Looks pale, feels a bit sick. Faye’s with him, they’ve gotten to know each other a bit and they’re getting closer. So it’s kind of alarming to see him like that.

This year he has the dementors to contend with because of it, along with him beginning to doubt his place within his family. Fane struggled first year with being a transfer and the legacy of his family overshadowing him a lot with a lot of speculation about who he was and what he might be capable of being thrown around. He’s low on positives and struggles even more with the dementors around especially considering he’s from a dark lineage combined with his own self-doubt it’s acts as a bit of a magnet drawing them to him.

𝑅𝑒𝓂𝓊𝓈 𝐿𝓊𝓅𝒾𝓃 :

Second year Fane bonds with Remus really well, mostly because this small second year is perceptive enough to tell that Lupin is lonely too and Fane finds his DADA lessons so good that he’s always bombarding him for more things to practise.

Fane joins the Quidditch team at the suggestion of Remus. Quidditch is how he ends up finally starting to make friends, pretty natural in the air he became a keeper in his second year and eventually over the years became the Ravenclaw team Captain. He also 10000% goes flying if he needs to clear his mind for any particular reason.

Fane seemed even more natural in the air than on the ground, when Fane was unhappy about something he'd always go flying.

Fane was the only Ravenclaw that Malfoy would actively suck up to but there were certainly some spirited fights between them after which Malfoy stopped sucking up to Fane and began resenting him instead "he's a year younger than me, he's not THAT great"

Between Quidditch parties and stuff he’s mostly just lounging on his bed in the dorm practising and recruiting Faye who is one of the few people who doesn’t seem to pay much attention about the rumours regarding him for practice duels. He knows duelling is against the rules but he doesn’t particular care, it’s practice after all and they go to the room of requirement.

Honestly, I don’t see him very much like Soapberry!Fane he’s quieter and minds his own more.

Lupin and Fane sitting in his office after class, and maybe Lupin tries to teach him how to cast a patronus but unlike Harry who manages to figure out how to cast it Fane never does. To which Lupin just pats his shoulder and tells him that everyone has their own different gifts. Fane gets frustrated because he’s able to do other advanced things and Lupin knows he can so he just can’t understand why he can’t do it.

Fane actually develops an immunity to dementors later in his life, but that comes as a consequence of events that happen during his 6th year.

Mostly it just leaves younger Fane wondering if he’s evil or if this is just a sign he’s going to become evil.

For a time Potions was his favourite class, mostly because he was shown preferential treatment by Snape and it was one of his favourite classes because it was the only real sort of attention he was given. But he starts to not enjoy it so much since Lupin is different and lets him come over to his office to study when he needs some space. He crosses paths with Harry occasionally since Lupin is helping them both.

Also at the end of second year when the truth comes out about Lupin Fane goes up to him and gives him some chocolate. “They’re wrong about you. I’m sorry… You’re the best professor I’ve had so… um. Thank you? For… um helping me this year.” He pauses and then is like “please, please please don’t go.” "I’m sorry, Fane, I have to”

“It’s not fair. You’re better than all the other professors, you helped us all. It’s not fair.

"The world rarely is, Stefan.” And Lupin just gives him a sad smile and leaves and Fane is left so angry over it despite himself. He doesn’t forgive the world for letting it happen.

But before Lupin leaves Fane is just like “wait- Can… Can I write to you still?” Which makes Lupin pause and you can see his shoulders crunch a bit “Please…”

As gently as he can, he says, “I’m not sure that would be safe for you, Fane.”

And it just makes him frown because why can’t he do that, why can’t he just write letters Fane doesn’t understand why being told this hurts, his own father vanishing didn’t have this kind of impact so why should this hurt? And it’s the first glimpse anyone gets of how much anger this little boy is carrying around inside of him. Much like Harry I think Fane kind of found an actual father figure he never had before in Lupin since what he had before was just expectations.

And Lupin sighs, “from what I know of your family, it’s very unlikely your mother wants you writing to a werewolf, and it wouldn’t be good for you if someone found out. I want to, Fane, I want to, but I can’t put you in danger for it” Lupin pauses again and says “maybe we will meet again one day.”

𝒮𝓊𝓂𝓂𝑒𝓇

Over the second year summer Fane frees his house elves. Like he keeps doing it and Katerina is just like “STEFAN THAT IS THE HELP”. Having talked to Lupin and been on the Quidditch team he started to blossom a bit. There are still two of course but what even is this "we are getting a new one immediately and YOU WILL NOT DO THIS AGAIN”

“Why do we need slaves if we have magic?” He’s starting to get more clued about free will.

“It’s just the way things are done, Stefan, you will not interfere with the running of this house in an orderly fashion. Unless YOU want to do the chores yourself and I am quite sure you don’t, darling.”

“Why not?”

“That’s what the house elves are for, they’re happy this way.”

“They don’t seem happy..”

“They’re created to serve wizards, darling.” Katerina bends down and kisses his forehead and shoos him very firmly out of the kitchen before he can do anything else to the other two. They are under orders not to take anything from him directly in case it has clothes in it. He can set it down and they will pick it up but they can’t take it directly. Fane also confuses them by going and helping them with things.

Leaving them all like why is this small master helping us?

𝒯𝒽𝒾𝓇𝒹 𝓎𝑒𝒶𝓇 (𝒯𝓇𝒾𝓌𝒾𝓏𝒶𝓇𝒹 𝒯𝑜𝓊𝓇𝓃𝒶𝓂𝑒𝓃𝓉):

It all starts with the ATTACK AT THE QUIDDITCH WORLD CUP, the Savin’s go and have great seats and all and then that happens. Katerina isn’t actually in a mask but she certainly approves. She took Erich and Fane as a treat and the elder siblings have arrangements of their own so they don’t have to stay with mum.

Fane’s younger brother Erich joins this year, he got sorted into Slytherin which is no huge surprise. Fane by now is kind of popular from Qudditch and stuff so Erich tries to be cool like them. No one ever paid much attention to Erich back at home and so he’s mostly just a face in the Slytherin crowd.

Fane hit a growth spurt and just shoots up like a beanpole overnight, suddenly where Faye and him were almost the same height he’s just like towering over everyone. It’s Triwizard year and his main concern is that literally none of his clothes fit anymore. XD Most people are now just looking at his solar plexus. He starts to fill out a bit too and when he’s older he starts to get this dark stubble. And suddenly even the Gryffindor girls are like, oooh there’s Fane and he rivals Cedric as Hogwarts heartthrob.

Fane also finds out his mother betrothed him to @gracevilliers but he did not want that at all. He went along with it for a while but eventually was just lmao NOPE and that went sideways pretty fast in a dramatic falling out.

Due to his dark arts background and exposure Fane is one of the few who are suspicious of Moody because he’s so used to sensing/paying attention to people/seeing through their excuses. He’s perceptive and uses that especially in their DADA classes, he can tell something is off especially with the flask and something about his antennae just go off with the Unforgivable Curses. Maybe even goes so far to start trailing Moody on the down low and he keeps trying to tell someone but nobody believes him because of course the Savins want that Auror out of here. But then of course the reveal happens and he’s like WELL…

Fane in his element during the ball, because loads of people want to go with him and SO MANY BEAUXBATON GIRLS. He also sees some of his old Durmstrang cohort and spends time with them. But Fane ends up dancing with Faye at the end of the night because… oF COURSE HE DOES.

Fane being all smooth yet gentlemanly whilst he dances with Faye and not being able to take his eyes off her. So many genuine compliments that make her blush, she thinks he’s joking and tells him to stop kidding around. He doesn’t look too bad himself with the sharp cut black robes and white shirt and tie, after the growth spurt earlier in the year he’s not quite there YET but it’s clear he is only going to get hotter. Everyone can tell he’s just going to get even more attractive as he gets older proven when she runs into him running his shady business in Knockturn alley DECADES LATER and Merlin’s beard he does age amazingly. She is momentarily speechless, because okay, by sixth year he was pretty damn fine BUT THIS IS RIDICULOUS.

Also in third year aka Triwizard year Fane taking Hermione’s SPEW campaign seriously. He buys a badge. He doesn’t wear it but he at least buys it.

𝒮𝓊𝓂𝓂𝑒𝓇

Fane finally gets kicked out from home by his mum because he’s being rebellious. With his father gone she’s the matriarch of the family and her word is law. With all these rumors of Voldemort’s return, his family is at the dead centre. And mum essnetially gave him an ultimatum to return with her to the death eaters or be thrown out, and Fane chose the latter.

Fane has to drag his trunk out of their mansion because he can’t use magic, until his presence summons the Knight Bus. And the trunk is pretty damn heavy and like Harry he just ends up sitting down on a roadside and there are Muggles staring at this boy with a trunk in the middle of nowhere. In some little village close to their countryside mansion. Because their mansion is along some country tracks or something. This is essentially how Fane got to the leaky cauldron that summer. Fane has an undetectable extension charm on his trunk so he could take all his stuff but then he realises it doesn’t really amount to much. His school stuff and broomstick and a few clothes along with a few other bits and pieces.

𝐹𝑜𝓊𝓇𝓉𝒽 𝓎𝑒𝒶𝓇 (𝒪𝓇𝒹𝑒𝓇 𝑜𝒻 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝒫𝒽𝑜𝑒𝓃𝒾𝓍):

Fane seems to become a lot wilder at the start of this year but no one can quite pinpoint why though.

The teachers realise that taking points from him and giving him detention is what he wants them to do and it’s not helping. So they try just completely ignoring him. McGonagall is the one to realise it. She realises he’s acting out for some reason and something is definitely off but neither him nor Erich will spill about it. He’s banging on about something she is like that’s fascinating Mr. Savin, now please transfigure your newt or stand outside in the hall.

And he keeps trying to get a rise out of her or for her to take more points but she just proceeds with the lesson ignoring him and at the end when he is the only one who has not transfigured his newt he feels stupid. From then on he pays attention in her classes, and everyone is like Minerva how did you do it and in her classes he’s back on track to being a great student. Because his disruptive energy is being focused again. Eventually he calms down again and sorts himself out but it’s definitely post the raver he threw (tbd next).

Generally Fane’s behaviour is very questionable at the time and he throws a monster party this year. Fane is of course there, probably doing body shots and having a riot.

A school rule has to be made that the enchanted cups CANNOT fill with alcohol precisely because of this legendary raver that year because he finally cracked it how to make them do exactly that. He figured out how to bypass the usual restraint and came up with an original way to conjure it and it was really quite a brilliant piece of magic and everyone is like “of course that is what you apply your talents to, Savin”

Fane & Umbridge: outwardly he is EXACTLY WHAT UMBRIDGE WANTS but in reality he hates her guts. She keeps trying to recruit him but this is fourth year when he was just thrown out. He just ignores her rules and dares her to punish him. The raver is his major fuck you to Umbridge.

Somehow he avoids getting caught but when he does oh boy does he get punished, Umbridge has been waiting a long time to pin something to him. Ends up making Fane write I must not tell lies until it’s physically scarred into his arm and all the murtlap essence in the world can’t remove it. Explaining why he refuses in most cases to refrain from outright lying to people.

Faye sees his hand and knows what happened and he will barely let her touch it. It’s turned him upside down. And Faye sees he’s literally vibrating in kind of a middle range between rage and upset, because this is ontop of his family drama.

𝒞𝒽𝓇𝒾𝓈𝓉𝓂𝒶𝓈

Everyone gets post and presents and he’s one of the only people who doesn’t receive anything at all. Fane’s just sat at the table trying to act like he isn’t bothered but really he’s pretty upset by it.

Faye shares some of her things with him though. Tries to cheer him up since she’s noticed something is up. Most people have.

Probably a little while after that and they’ve kind of gotten to know each other better Faye finally broaches the subject that she has noticed he seems even more out of control than usual, and Fane clams up but she puts a hand on his arm like you can talk to me, he of course tries to flippantly brush it off but it isn't the same level of suave as usual

Finally he admits he was thrown out of the house which he tries to make into a joke but she’s persistent and Faye is shocked, wants to know where he's going home for the holidays. "Some den of debauchery no doubt, don't worry about me, I'll be fine"

And it all makes sense And he gets himself back on track eventually.

He ends up staying in the castle, pretty much just exploring passageways and learning all the secret routes. Perhaps even finding more than the Marauders, but one day Faye invites him over to her place for a day to celebrate with her family because she keeps thinking about him having nowhere to go.

When she gets back after break the first thing she does is go find him and ask how he spent the holidays and he shrugs and is just like, oh, here, it was fine and tries to change the subject to quidditch. “Hope you're prepared to be flattened Faye”

𝒮𝓊𝓂𝓂𝑒𝓇

Fane convinces Faye to take him to the Muggle world because he's curious, only ever having experienced the Wizarding world. Fane wandering around the West End and just stops and looks at Faye like "they have shows?" Ends up getting them some tickets to go see something

Faye’s not sure where he spent that summer. He visited her a few times but mostly he was just off the grid the way Fane goes. She worried about him as is usual.

He spent most of that summer bouncing aimlessly between wizard and muggle London. Took a room at the Leaky Cauldron with his school things just piled in the corner, all these rumours of Voldemort's return but he didn't care and besides he knew they were true not that anyone ever listened to what he had to say on it.

After Voldemort was sighted in the Ministry there wasn't much doubt anyway, Tom and the Leaky Cauldron witches were a little concerned that an almost 15 year old appeared to be living there alone.

When he wasn't out wandering London, he worked obsessively on his magic he didn't even care about the Reasonable Restriction of Underage Wizardry. He had figured out ways at the age of 15 to make himself undetectable to the Ministry, just tied in his magic to the magic that the rest of Diagon Alley was doing so it wasn't traceable specifically to him as long as he did it only there and nowhere else, he could practise without being caught.

So long as he didn't disturb anyone though they didn't mind too much. He also helped out to earn some money for himself, because he no longer had his family fortune to rely on. He refuses to tell anyone that he's working at the Leaky Cauldron to make a bit of money for himself though because he will not admit he's been kicked out either.

Only Faye knows.

He has literally never worked a day in his life until now, the Savin’s had three house elves not just ONE house elf, what with several children, but three.

At first he's really worn out by it because he's never had to work like this before but eventually he just gets into a routine, helps out during the busy periods and is allowed to go explore London in the quieter hours. He goes to various landmarks - museums, galleries etc just to learn more about Muggles.

He struggles sleep, he sees Umbridge's face every time he closes his eyes for too long, and the night he got the scars on his hand she had him writing until he could literally feel the quill scraping out bone because she had been waiting so long to nail him for something after how long he refused to become her poster boy, when he was everything she wanted for the Inquisitorial Squad. Erich was a big member.

He goes out at night a lot finds a cafe that’s open late where he sometimes slips out to, sits by the Thames at night. Just with a warm drink, coat pulled tight around him as he just watches the city go about its business. He gets back to the Leaky Cauldron rather late.

By the time it comes for them to return he’s calmed down and seems to have gotten his act together a lot more than what he had before.

#au verse #I summarised stuff into one doc because #it was getting a bit spammy #with the multiple posts so I'm going to leave it at two with these #and delete the other ones #hp timeline

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