#also the dursleys clearly know about wizards and magic so how is it that the muggles of muggleborn kids

[timeisacephalopod]

Y'all are aware of that 10 hour Harry Potter retrospective but the thing that gets me the most out of that whole thing that I never considered when reading the series is that wizards can obviously chose to adhere to the Statute of Secrecy but like... Magical creatures can't make that choice and Fantastic Beasts literally starts with Newt chasing down a rogue niffler, meaning that muggles probably frequently encounter magical creatures. There's no way that muggles and magical creatures could reasonably be segregated- Hermione's cat is half magical creature so how many muggle cats are also half neasel?

Like why on earth would you invent a world in which you have scores of animals, and also plants, that cannot reasonably consent to secrecy from muggles and the excuse of witch trials falls flat when actual magic exists that should factor into how those witch trials play out but never seems to come up. Anyway, the most unrealistic thing about a universe with magic and dragons and shit is that muggles would somehow never run into and remember a magical creature, there's zero way the wizards could catch every muggle who has seen something and obliviate them that's a herculean task designed to fail I refuse to believe no nifflers have ever stolen some muggles shit enough that they'd know what them little bastards were.

[mybutcheredtongue]

I'll Love You 'til the Grass Around My Gravestone is Deceased

post azkaban sirius black x fem!reader

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX (see full series list here)

1994

I've just been attacked by dementors and I might be expelled from Hogwarts. I want to know what's going on and when I'm going to get out of here.

That's what Harry had written in his note to you and Sirius — and also in notes to Ron and Hermione too.

The pair of you had been livid, of course — "this is what happens when he's left alone with those people!" — and three days later, you stand on the doorstep to Number 4, Privet Drive, Little Whinging with a group of other Order members.

"Alohomora," you say, pushing the door open. You make your way into the hallway, all the lights turned off.

Tonks lets out a whistle at a stack of antique decorative plates on a table beside her. "Wow, look at these plates, they're proper fancy! Just look — "

She immediately drops it with a crash.

"Oops," she says, repairing it with a wave of her wand.

You make your way up the stairs, unlocking the door with your wand while the others wait at the bottom of the stairs. Harry slowly emerges from the room, poking his head out the door, wand clutched tightly in his hand.

"Lower your wand, boy, before you take someone's eye out," Moody growls.

Harry doesn't lower his wand. "Professor Moody?"

"I don't know so much about 'Professor'. Never got round to much teaching, did I? Get down here, we want to see you properly."

Harry still doesn't move, clearly wary of your party.

"It's alright, Harry," you say gently. "We've come to take you away."

"P-professor?" he says disbelievingly. "Is that you?"

"Why are we all standing in the dark?" Tonks says. "Lumos."

The tip of Tonks's wand flares, illuminating the hall with light. You beam at the sight of your godson, already looking older than when you last seen him.

You stride forward and wrap him in a tight hug, beaming. "Good to see you, Harry."

"Yeah, you too..."

"Ooh, he looks just like I thought he would," Tonks says excitedly. "Wotcher, Harry!"

"Yeah, I see what you mean, Remus," Kingsley Shacklebolt says from the back. "He looks exactly like James."

"Except the eyes," Dedalus Diggle wheezes. "Lily's eyes."

Moody squints suspiciously at Harry, his magical eye pointed towards him searchingly. "Are you quite sure it's him? It'd be a nice lookout if we bring back some Death Eater personating him. We ought to ask him something only the real Potter would know. Unless anyone brought any Veritaserum?"

"Harry, what form does your patronus take?" Remus asks.

"A stag," Harry answers nervously.

"That's him, Mad-Eye."

Harry descends the stairs, still looking a bit confused, stowing his wand in the back pocket of his jeans as he goes.

"Don't put your wand there, boy!" Moody roars immediately. "What if it ignited? Better wizards than you have lost a buttocks, you know!"

"Who do you know that's lost a buttock?" Tonks asks curiously

"Never you mind, just keep your wand out of your back pocket!" he barks, hobbling off to the kitchen. "Elementary wand safety, nobody bothers about it anymore..."

Wow, how many times did you hear that during your training?

"And I saw that," Moody adds irritably as you roll your eyes at the ceiling.

Remus holds out his hand and shakes Harry's. "How are you?"

"Fine..." Harry replies, looking as though he's still in shock at what's going on.

"I'm — you're really lucky the Dursleys are out..." he mumbles.

"Lucky, ha!" Tonks exclaims, grinning. "It was me that lured them out of the way. Sent a letter by Muggle post telling they'd been short-listed for the All-England Best-Kept Suburban Lawn Competition. They're heading off to the prize-giving right now...or so they think."

She winks at you and you smile back, remembering the side-splitting laughter that had infected you as the two of you cooked up that idea a few nights previous.

"We are leaving, aren't we?" Harry asks. "Soon?"

"Almost at once," Remus says. "We're just waiting for the all-clear."

"Where are we going? The Burrow?" Harry asks hopefully.

You shake your head. "No, not the Burrow." You follow Moody into the kitchen, the group of Order members walking in after you. "Too risky. We're set up headquarters somewhere else, somewhere undetectable."

Moody sits at the kitchen table swigging from a hip flask, taking in the many electrical appliances in the Dursleys' kitchen.

"This is Alastor Moody, Harry," Remus tells, pointing toward him.

"Yeah, I know."

"And this is Nymphadora — "

"Don't call me Nymphadora, Remus," Tonks says with a shudder. "It's Tonks."

" — Nymphadora Tonks, who prefers to be known by her surname only," Remus finishes, glancing at Tonks.

She folds her arms. "So would you if your fool of a mother called you Nymphadora."

"And this is Kingsley Shacklebolt," Remus continues. "Elphias Doge, Dedalus Diggle — "

"We've met before," squeaks Diggle, dropping his top hat excitedly.

" — Emmeline Vance — Sturgis Podmore — and Hestia Jones."

Harry nods awkwardly at each of them in turn.

"A surprising number of people volunteered to come get you," Remus says, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

"Yeah, well, the more the better," Moody says darkly. "We're your guard, Potter."

"We're just waiting for the signal to tell us it's safe to set off," Remus explains, glancing out the kitchen window. "We've got about fifteen minutes."

"Very clean, aren't they, these Muggles?" Tonks says as she looks around the kitchen with heat interest. "My dad's Muggle-born and he's a right old slob. I suppose it varies, just like with wizards?"

"Uh — yeah," says Harry, turning to you. "What's going on, I haven't heard anything from anyone, what's Vol — ?"

Several of the witch and wizards make odd hissing noises and Moody growls, "Shut up!"

"What?"

"We're not discussing anything here, it's too risky," Moody explains, looking around him warily with his magical eye.

"We can talk about it once we're back at headquarters," you say.

"How're we getting there?"

"Brooms," Remus replies. "Only way. You're too young to apparate, they'll be watching the Floor Network, and it's more than our life's worth to set up an unauthorised Portkey."

"She says you're a good flier," Kingsley says, gesturing to you.

"He's excellent," you reply proudly, smiling at Harry.

Remus glances down at his watch. "You better go and get packed, Harry, we want to be ready to go when the signal comes."

"I'll come and help you," Tonks says brightly, following Harry upstairs to his bedroom.

Remus pulls an envelope and piece of parchment out of his pocket, bending over the kitchen table to start scribbling something down. You walk around the room, looking at different photos of the Dursleys.

Baby Dudley, with a proud Petunia and Vernon standing over him; Petunia and Vernon on their wedding day; several more photos of Dudley growing up — there's an obvious absence of Harry. If a stranger were to walk into this room without knowing anything about the Dursleys beforehand, they would never know Harry even exists.

"What a strange device!" Podmore exclaims, curiously opening and closing the kitchen microwave while Kingsley stands behind him. He waves you over. "What does it do?"

Because of your Muggle father, you are often questioned on Muggle items and customs — though usually by Arthur Weasley.

"It cooks food," you reply. "It's called a microwave."

"A microwave..." Kingsley repeats thoughtfully, opening the door and peering inside with immense interest.

Nearby, Hestia laughs at a potato peeler that she came across in one of the drawers. You give her a look, confused as to what could possibly be so humourous about a potato peeler, but she just continues to snicker and giggle as she turns it over in her hands.

"Excellent," Remus says when Harry and Tonks return, Harry's trunk bobbing along in the air behind them. "We've got about a minute, I think. We should probably get out into the garden so we're ready. Harry, I've left a note telling your aunt and uncle not to worry — "

"They won't," says Harry.

"That you're safe — "

"That'll just depress them."

" — and you'll see them next summer."

"Do I have to?"

Remus smiles but doesn't answer.

"Come here, boy," Moody says gruffly, beckoning Harry towards him with his wand. "I need to Disillusion you."

Harry's brows knit nervously. "You need to what?"

"Disillusionment Charm," Moody replies, raising his wand. "Lupin says you've got an Invisibility Cloak, but it won't stay on while we're flying; this'll disguise you better. Here you go — "

He raps Harry hard on the top of his head and Harry's body takes on the exact colour and texture of the kitchen unit behind him, like some sort of human chameleon.

"Nice one, Mad-Eye," Tonks says appreciatively, and Harry looks down in surprise, spinning in place as he surveys his new look.

"Come on," Moody says, moving towards the back door and unlocking it with his wand.

You all step out onto the Dursleys' impeccably well-kept lawn. It looks practically untouched — a contender for the All-England Best-Kept Suburban Lawn Competition indeed.

"Clear night," Moody grumbles, peering up into the dark sky above. "Could've done with a bit more cloud cover. Right, you," he barks at Harry, pointing his finger at him, "we're going to be flying in close formation. Tonks'll be right in front of you. The rest'll be circling us. We don't break ranks for anything, got me? If one of us is killed — "

"Is that likely?" Harry asks apprehensively, but Moody ignores him. When he turns his worried eyes to yours you shake your head, resisting the urge to roll your eyes at Moody's grimness.

" — the others keep flying, don't stop, don't break ranks. If they take out all of us and you survive, Harry, the rear guard are standing by to take over; keep flying east and they'll join you."

"Stop being so cheerful, Mad-Eye, he'll think we're not taking this seriously," says Tonks as she straps Harry's trunk and Hedwig's cage into a harness hanging from her broom.

"I'm just telling the boy the plan," Moody growls. "Our job's to deliver him safely to headquarters and if we die in the attempt — "

"No one's going to die," you say calmly, receiving a doubtful grumble from Moody in the process.

"Mount your brooms, that's the first signal!" Remus says sharply, pointing into the sky at the shower of bright red sparks flaring high above you.

You swing your leg over your broom — your dusty old Cleansweep Seven that you've had since you were fifteen and that has seen more of the inside of your garden shed than the open air — and wrap your hands around the flaking handle. You're a pretty average flier — nothing compared to James, of course...but who could ever compare to him?

"Second signal, let's go!" Remus says loudly, as this time green sparks explode into the air far above you.

You kick off hard from the ground. The cool night air rushes into you as you rise higher into the air, the houses and buildings of Little Whinging becoming smaller and smaller as your group ascends. Looking up, the sky is vast and clear, revealing the billions of gleaming stars twinkling above. You can't help the small rush of giddiness that sparks in you at the sight of it.

"Hard left, hard left, there's a Muggle looking up!" Moody shouts over the wind, and your circling group follows Tonks as she swerves, Harry close behind. "We need more height...give it another quarter of a mile!"

"Bear southeast and keep climbing, there's some low cloud ahead we can lose ourselves in!" calls Moody.

"We're not going through clouds!" Tonks shouts angrily. "We'll get soaked, Mad-Eye!"

You're glad to hear this, your fingers turning numb around the handle of your broom in the chill.

You alter your course every now and then according to Moody's instructions, you and the rest of the guard circling Harry and Tonks as you move.

"We ought to double back for a bit, to make sure we're not being followed!" Moody shouts.

"Don't be mad! We're nearly there now!" You yell, recognising the streets hurtling past below. "If we keep going off course, we won't have to worry about being followed because Harry'll have died from hypothermia by then!"

"Time to start the descent!" Remus orders. "Follow Tonks, Harry!"

You dive, flying lower and lower until you touch down on a quiet street with several less-than-welcoming houses lining it.

"Where are we?" Harry asks.

"In a minute," Remus says quietly, looking at Moody expectantly as he rummages around in his cloak.

"Got it," he mutters, pulling out Dumbledore's trusty Deluminator and clicking it. The nearest streetlamp goes out with a pop. Moody clicks the Deluminator again and one by one each lamp on the street distinguishes, leaving the faint glow of lit rooms behind curtains the only source of light on the street.

"Borrowed it from Dumbledore," Moody explains to Harry, pocketing the Deluminator once more. "That'll take care of any Muggles looking out the window, see? Now, come on, quick."

Together, your group makes it towards houses Number 11 and Number 13. Even though he's been Disillusioned, you can still see Harry's form shivering with the cold, and you make a slow sweeping motion down the length of his body with your wand, muttering a quiet warming spell under your breath. You hear him breathe a sigh of relief.

"Thanks."

Remus tuts quietly under his breath. "No spell for the rest of us, then?"

You smile. "You're not my godson."

Even in the dark, you can see him rolling his eyes at you.

"Here," Moody says, thrusting a piece of paper towards Harry. "Read quickly and memorise."

"What's the Order of the — ?"

"Not here, boy!" Moody snarls immediately, his eyes wide. "Wait 'til we're inside!"

He snatches the parchment out of Harry's hand and lights it on fire, dropping it to the ground, the edges curling in the flame.

"But where's — ?"

"Think about what you've just memorised," Remus says quietly.

After a moment, the run-down door of the Black house emerges in the space between 11 and 13, followed soon by grimy walls and windows.

"Come on, hurry," Moody growls, prodding Harry in the back.

You tap the door with your wand. Loud metallic clicks and squeaks sound behind the door before it creaks open, revealing the darkened hallway beyond. "Get in quick, Harry. But don't go far inside and don't touch anything."

You shuffle into the hallway behind Harry, casting a wary eye to the curtained portrait at the end of the hall, waiting for Moody to finish returning the light to the streetlamps before closing the door behind him.

"Here." Moody raps Harry hard over the head with his wand, lifting the Disillusionment Charm and returning Harry to his usual, visible state. Probably could've been a bit more gentle with it, but whatever.

"Now stay still, everyone, while I give us a bit of light around here," Moody says quietly. With a soft hissing noise, the old-fashioned gas lamps flicker to life, illuminating the depressingly drab hallway you're standing in.

Hurried footsteps alert you to Mrs Weasley's entrance, emerging from the basement door with a smile on her face as she makes her way toward you.

"Oh, Harry, it's lovely to see you!" she whispers, pulling Harry into a tight hug before holding him at arm's length and examining him critically. "You're looking peaky; you need feeding up, but you'll have to wait a bit for dinner, I'm afraid..."

She turns to you and the rest of the Order members and whispers urgently, "He's just arrived, the meeting's started..."

Everyone starts to make their way through the door, and Harry moves to follow Remus when you gently hold him back, a hand on his shoulder. "Sorry, Harry. Order members only. We'll talk later, yeah?"

"Ron and Hermione are waiting upstairs, you can wait with them until the meeting's over, and then we'll all have dinner," Mrs Weasley whispers to him. "And keep your voice down in the hall."

"Why?"

"I don't want to wake anything up."

"What d'you — ?"

"I'll explain later, I've got to hurry, I'm supposed to be at the meeting — I'll just show you where you're sleeping."

You give Harry and Mrs Weasley a wave before heading down into the basement, opening the door as quietly as possible and slipping into your usual spot beside Sirius at the table while Dumbledore speaks to Remus and Moody about Harry. You listen as Dumbledore outlines plans and guard duty: looks like you're on tomorrow night. Brilliant.

Snape sits across from you, and when your eyes meet he gives you a near-imperceptible head shake. Nothing on Wormtail yet. Then his eyes shift to hatred as he wrinkles his nose at Sirius beside you, and you notice that your husband is currently pretending to scratch his nose with just his middle finger extended, directly in Snape's eyeline.

Of course.

When the meeting is finally over, most of the Order members file out of the kitchen and upstairs, speaking in hushed voices as they enter the hall. You pull one of the scrolls of parchment from the middle of the table into your hands, skimming your eyes over a plan of the Department of Mysteries, exits and entrances marked in red.

Just then, you hear a clatter and a great, thankfully muffled, screeching starts from the hall. You sigh, rubbing your temples, and move to stand up and deal with your darling mother-in-law when Sirius gently pushes you back into your chair, standing up.

"I'll handle it."

Bill and Mr Weasley sit close by, heads pressed together as they mull over parchment and documents. After a minute or two, the screaming stops and Sirius reopens the door, Harry following close behind with Remus and the rest of the kids.

Mrs Weasley clears her throat and Mr Weasley jumps to his feet, hurrying over to give Harry's hand a shake. "Harry! Good to see you!"

Bill starts to try and roll up the scrolls and you move to help him, handing him the plan of the Department of Mysteries.

"Journey all right, Harry?" he asks. "Mad-Eye didn't make you come via Greenland, did he?"

"He tried," Tonks says, striding over to help you and immediately knocking over a candle, sending the wax spilling onto the parchment. "Oh, no — sorry — "

"Here," you say, waving your wand and muttering a spell to repair the parchment. In the light your wand casts, you spy Harry trying to catch a glimpse of what's written on the parchment.

Mrs Weasley sees him too, and clicks her tongue disapprovingly, snatching up the scrolls and shoving them into Bill's arms. "This sort of thing ought to be cleared away promptly at the end of meetings."

She sweeps off towards a dresser to start unloading dinner plates and you grab a cloth and wipe down the table for dinner.

"Sit down, Harry," Sirius says, retaking his usual spot at the table. "You've met Mundungus, haven't you?"

Mundungus, who has been snoring away at the end of the table, stirs and jolts awake. "Someone say m' name? I agree with Sirius..."

He raises his hand in the air as though voting, and you snort.

"Meeting's over, Dung," you say with a smile, giving his back a poke as you pass by with more plates. "Harry's arrived."

"Eh?" He peers at Harry before his face lights in recognition. "Blimey, so 'e 'as! Yeah...you all right, Harry?"

"Yeah."

Mundungus fumbles in his pockets and produces his trusty black pipe, lighting the tip with his wand and taking a long pull from it. A cloud of green smoke thickens the air around him instantly.

"Owe you an apology," he grunts.

"For the last time, Mundungus," calls Mrs Weasley in frustration, "will you please not smoke that thing in the kitchen, especially not when we're about to eat!"

"Ah. Right, sorry, Molly."

He stuffs the pipe back into his pocket, with slight reluctance.

Soon, a series of heavy knives are chopping meat and vegetables on their own, supervised by Mr Weasley, while Mrs Weasley stirs a cauldron dangling over the fire. Mundungus, Sirius, and Harry are talking at the table, and from the few snippets you overhear you can tell Sirius is complaining about being stuck inside with nothing to do — which you don't blame him for.

"At least you've known what's been going on," Harry says bracingly.

"Oh, yeah," Sirius says sarcastically. "Listening to Snape's reports, having to take all his snide hints that he's out there risking his life while I'm sat on my backside here having a nice comfortable time...asking me how the cleaning's going — "

"What cleaning?" Harry asks.

"Trying to make this place fit for human habitation," Sirius replies, waving a hand around the dismal kitchen. "No one's lived here for ten years, not since my mother died, unless you count her old house-elf, and he's gone round the twist, hasn't cleaned anything in years — "

"Sirius?" Mundungus pipes up, eyes focused on a silver goblet in his hands, examining it with immense interest. "This solid silver, mate?"

"Yes," he answers, surveying the goblet with obvious distaste. "Finest fifteenth-century goblin-wrought silver, embossed with the Black family crest."

"That'd come off, though," Mundungus mutters thoughtfully, scrubbing the crest with his cuff.

"Fred — George — NO, JUST CARRY THEM!" Mrs Weasley shrieks.

Fred and George have bewitched a large cauldron of stew, an iron flagon of butterbeer, and a heavy wooden breadboard, to hurtle through the air towards the table. Harry, Sirius, and Mundungus leap away, just in time to avoid the pot of stew that skids the length of the table before stopping at the end, the flagon of butterbeer that falls with a crash and spills over the surface, dripping onto the floor, and the sharp knife that slips from the breadboard and sticks in the table where Sirius' hand had been moments before.

"FOR HEAVEN'S SAKE!" Mrs Weasley screams, face red with fury. "THERE WAS NO NEED — I'VE HAD ENOUGH OF THIS — JUST BECAUSE YOU'RE ALLOWED TO USE MAGIC NOW DOESN'T MEAN YOU HAVE TO WHIP YOUR WANDS OUT FOR EVERY TINY LITTLE THING!"

"We were just trying to save a bit of time!" Fred says, hurrying forward and wrenching the knife out of the table. "Sorry, Sirius, mate — didn't mean to — "

Harry and Sirius are laughing, and you turn your face away to hide your laughter from the furious Mrs Weasley. Mundungus struggles to his feet, swearing and muttering under his breath.

"Boys," Mr Weasley steps in, lifting the stew pot back into the middle of the table. "Your mother's right, you're supposed to show a sense of responsibility now that you've come of age — "

"None of your brothers caused this sort of trouble!" Mrs Weasley snaps at the twins, slamming a fresh flagon of butterbeer onto the table while you clean away the mess from the previous with your wand. "Bill didn't feel the need to Apparate every few feet! Charlie didn't charm everything he met! Percy — "

She stops dead, catching her breath with a frightened look at her husband. Mentions of Percy are not particularly welcomed in the house at the moment, after Percy and Mr Weasley had an especially heated argument and Percy chose his job at the Ministry over his own family.

"Let's eat," Bill says quickly.

For a few minutes, there is silence in the room but for the scraping of plates and cutlery and the creak of chairs as everyone settles down for the meal. You sit beside Sirius, who smiles and pulls your chair closer to his as you eat.

He tugs on the sleeve of your jumper, rolling the fabric between his thumb and forefinger. "I like this, it suits you. You look very pretty."

You scoff, giving him a smile. "Of course you like it, Sirius, it's yours. Anyways, I'm thinking of going back home soon just to collect a few things," you say. "Is there anything you want? I am seriously missing my telescope here — "

A loud burst of laughter drowns out the rest of your words, as Fred, George, Ron, and Mundungus roll around in their chairs.

"...and then," chokes Mundungus, tears running down his face, "and then, if you'll believe it, 'e says to me, 'Dung, where did ya get all them toads from? 'Cause some son of a Bludger's gone and nicked all mine!' And I says, 'Nicked all your toads, Will, what next? So you'll be wanting some more, then?' And if you'll believe me, lads, the gormless gargoyle buys all 'is own toads back off me for twice what 'e paid in the first place — "

"I don't think we need to hear any more of your business dealings thank you very much, Mundungus," Mrs Weasley says sharply.

"Beg pardon, Molly," he answers at once, wiping his face and winking at Harry. "But, you know, Will nicked 'em of Warty Harris in the first place so I wasn't really doing anything wrong — "

"I don't know where you learned about right and wrong, Mundungus, but you seemed to have missed a few crucial lessons," Mrs Weasley says coldly, before shooting a particularly nasty look at Sirius and standing up to fetch a large rhubarb crumble for dessert.

You sigh, pinching the bridge of your nose. Mundungus is certainly not the most law-abiding man, but he has his uses.

"Molly doesn't approve of Mundungus," Sirius says quietly to Harry.

"How come he's in the Order?"

"He's useful," Sirius mutters. "Knows all the crooks — "

"Well, he would, seeing as he is one himself," you add, taking a sip from your wine.

Sirius nods. "He's also very loyal to Dumbledore, who helped him out a tight spot once. It pays to have someone like Dung around, he hears things we don't. But Molly thinks inviting him to stay for dinner is going too far. She hasn't forgiven him for slipping off duty when he was supposed to be tailing you."

Several helpings of crumble later, the air in the room moves to a relaxed laziness as you finish telling the story of Remus's first time getting drunk at Hogwarts to Tonks, who giggles and laughs while Remus shakes his head and becomes increasingly interested in his goblet. Sirius's hand rests on your hip, idly drawing circles with his finger.

"I don't — uh — I don't remember that," Remus says, cheeks crimson as he glances at Tonks to see her reaction.

You hum, smiling at him. "Well, I certainly do. "

Tonks smiles appreciatively at Remus, yawning loudly.

"Nearly time for bed, I think," Mrs Weasley says, yawning too.

"Not just yet, Molly," Sirius says, pushing away his empty plate and turning to look at Harry. "You know, I'm surprised at you. I thought the first thing you'd do when you got here would be to start asking questions about Voldemort."

The change in the atmosphere is rapid: Mrs Weasley sits bolt upright, her fists clenched; Remus lowers his goblet warily, eyes meeting yours.

"I did!" Harry says indignantly. "I asked Ron and Hermione but they said we're not allowed in the Order, so — "

"And they're quite right," Mrs Weasley says firmly. "You're too young."

"Since when did someone have to be in the Order of the Phoenix to ask questions?" Sirius asks, raising his eyebrows. "Harry's been trapped in that Muggle house for a month. He's got the right to know what's been happen — "

"Hang on!" George interrupts loudly.

"How come Harry gets his questions answered?" says Fred angrily.

"We've been trying to get stuff out of you for a month and you haven't told us a single stinking thing!"

"You're too young, you're not in the Order," Fred says in a high-pitched imitation of his mother. "Harry's not even of age!"

"It's not my fault you haven't been told what the Order's been doing," Sirius says calmly. "That's your parents' decision. Harry, on the other hand — "

"It's not down to you to decide what's good for Harry!" Mrs Weasley says sharply, a dangerous look on her face. "You haven't forgotten what Dumbledore said, I suppose?"

"Which bit?" His tone is polite, but you spot the familiar tense in his jaw and know that this calmness won't last long.

"The bit about not telling Harry more than he needs to know," Mrs Weasley replies stonily.

Everyone else in the room is dead silent, their eyes flitting between Sirius and Mrs Weasley as though watching a tennis match. You meet Remus's eyes across the table, subtly shaking your head.

"I don't intend to tell him more than he needs to know, Molly," says Sirius. "But he was the one who saw Voldemort come back. He has more right than most to — "

"He's not a member of the Order of the Phoenix!" Mrs Weasley snaps. "He's only fifteen — "

"And he's dealt with as much as most in the Order, and more than some — "

"No one's denying what he's done!" Mrs Weasley's voice rises, her fists trembling with anger. "But he's still — "

"He's not a child!" Sirius says impatiently.

"He's not an adult either! He's not James, Sirius!"

Sirius stares back at Mrs Weasley, poking the inside of his cheek with his tongue. His voice is ice. "I'm perfectly clear who he is, thanks, Molly."

"I'm not sure you are!" Mrs Weasley says hotly. "Sometimes, the way you talk about him, it's as though you think you've got your best friend back!"

"What's wrong with that?" says Harry.

"What's wrong, Harry, is that you are not your father, however much you might look like him! You are still at school and adults responsible for you should not forget it!"

"Meaning I'm an irresponsible godfather?" Sirius demands, his voice rising.

"Meaning you've been known to act rashly — "

"Enough," you say loudly, stopping the two. You inhale deeply. "Harry deserves to know a certain amount. He has been left in the dark for a month, and I have no doubt that he's used this time to come up with a few interesting theories of what's been going on. Don't you think he deserves to know what is true, from us, rather than a muddled version from...others?"

You don't doubt that a few of Fred and George's Extendable Ears have survived Mrs Weasley's purge.

Mrs Weasley looks back at you, breathing deeply. "Well..." she looks around the table for support, but receives none. "Well...I can see that I'm going to be overruled. I'll just say this: Dumbledore must have had his reasons for not wanting Harry to know too much, and speaking as someone who has Harry's best interests at heart — "

"He's not your son," Sirius says quietly.

"He's as good as!" Mrs Weasley snaps back fiercely. Great, just when you thought the argument had come to an end. "Who else has he got?"

You pause, hoping you misheard her.

"He's got us!" Sirius snaps back, gesturing between you and him.

"Yes. The thing is, it's been rather difficult for you to look after him while you've been locked up in Azkaban, hasn't it?"

Immediately, you feel your anger flare and you glare daggers back at her. "It's not like he had a choice, Molly!" You snap defensively. "How could you say something like that — "

"Molly, you're not the only person at this table who cares about Harry," Remus says sharply. "Sirius, sit down."

Sirius, who had begun to rise from his chair, sinks slowly back into his seat, face white.

"I think Harry ought to be allowed a say in this," Remus continues calmly. "He's old enough to decide for himself."

"I want to know what's been going on," Harry says at once.

Mrs Weasley looks at him for a moment, swallowing harshly. "Very well. Ginny — Hermione — Ron — Fred — George — I want you out of this kitchen, now."

Instant uproar.

"We're of age!" Fred and George cry together.

"If Harry's allowed, why can't I?" Ron shouts.

"Mum, I want to!" Ginny wails.

"NO!" shouts Mrs Weasley, her chest heaving as she stands. "I absolutely forbid — "

"Molly, you can't stop Fred and George," Mr Weasley says wearily. "They are of age."

"They're still at school — "

"But they're legally adults now."

"I — alright, fine, Fred and George can stay, but Ron — "

"Harry'll tell me and Hermione everything you say anyway!" Ron says heatedly. "Won't — won't you?" He adds uncertainly, meeting Harry's eyes.

"'Course I will."

Ron and Hermione beam.

"Fine!" Mrs Weasley shouts. "Fine! Ginny — BED!"

You hear Ginny stomping and raging at her mother all the way up the stairs, awakening Walburga's portrait when she reaches the hall. You sigh, hurrying off to force the curtains shut over the crazy woman with immense effort. You return, shutting the door to the stairs behind you, and fall back into your seat with a heavy sigh.

"Okay, Harry...what do you want to know?" Sirius speaks.

"Where's Voldemort? What's he doing? I've been trying to watch the Muggle news," Harry asks immediately, "and there hasn't been anything that looks like him yet, no funny deaths or anything — "

"That's because there haven't been any suspicious deaths yet," says Sirius. "Not as far as we know, anyway...and we do know quite a lot."

"More than he thinks we do, anyway," Remus adds.

"How come he's stopped killing people?" Harry asks.

"He doesn't want to draw attention to himself at the moment," you answer. "It would be dangerous for him. His comeback didn't quite come off the way he wanted it to, you see. He messed it up."

"Or rather, you messed it up for him," Remus says with a satisfied smile.

"How?" Harry questions, perplexed.

"You weren't supposed to survive!" Sirius says. "Nobody apart from his Death Eaters were supposed to know he'd come back. But you survived to bear witness."

"And the very last person he wanted alerted to his return the moment he got back was Dumbledore," says Remus. "And you made sure Dumbledore knew at once."

"How has that helped?"

"Are you kidding?" Bill says incredulously. "Dumbledore was the only one You-Know-Who was ever afraid of!"

"Thanks to you, Dumbledore was able to recall the Order of the Phoenix the day Voldemort returned," says Sirius.

"So what's the Order been doing?" asks Harry, looking around the table at everyone.

"Working as hard as we can to make sure Voldemort can't carry out his plans," Sirius answers.

"How do you know what his plans are?"

"Dumbledore's got a shrewd idea," says Remus, "and Dumbledore's shrewd ideas normally turn out to be accurate."

"So what does Dumbledore reckon he's planning?"

"Well, firstly, he wants to build up his army again," says Sirius. "In the old days he had huge numbers at his command; witches and wizards he'd bullied or bewitched into following him, his faithful Death Eaters, a great variety of Dark creatures. You heard him planning to recruit the giants; well, they'll be just one group he's after. He's certainly not going to try and take on the Ministry of Magic with only a dozen Death Eaters."

"So you're trying to stop him getting more followers?"

"We're doing our best," you say.

"How?"

"Well, the main thing is to try and convince as many people as possible that You-Know-Who really has returned, to put them on their guard," Bill tells. "It's proving tricky, though."

"Why?"

"Because the Ministry is still in denial," you say with a sigh. "You saw Fudge after Voldemort came back, Harry — he hasn't changed his mind at all. He's completely refusing to believe it."

"But why?" Harry asks desperately. "Why's he being so stupid? If Dumbledore — "

"Ah, well, you've put your finger on the problem," says Mr Weasley with a wry smile. "Dumbledore."

"Fudge is frightened of him," you say.

"Frightened of Dumbledore?" Harry says incredulously.

"Frightened of what he's up to," says Mr Weasley. "You see, Fudge thinks Dumbledore's plotting to overthrow him. He thinks Dumbledore wants to be Minister of Magic."

"But Dumbledore doesn't want — "

"Of course he doesn't," Mr Weasley speaks, adjusting his spectacles. "He's never wanted the Minister's job, even though a lot of people wanted him to take it when Millicent Bagnold retired. Fudge came to power instead, but he's never quite forgotten how much popular support Dumbledore had, even though Dumbledore never applied for the job."

Remus clears his throat. "Deep down, Fudge knows Dumbledore's much cleverer than he is, a much more powerful wizard, and in the early days of his Ministry he was forever asking Dumbledore for help and advice. But it seems that he's become fond of power now, and much more confident. He loves being Minister of Magic, and he's managed to convince himself that he's the clever one and Dumbledore's simply stirring up trouble for the sake of it."

"How can he think that?" Harry says angrily. "How can he think Dumbledore would just make it all up — that I'd make it up?"

"Because accepting that Voldemort's back would mean trouble like the Ministry hasn't had to cope with for nearly fourteen years," Sirius says bitterly. "Fudge just can't bring himself to face it. It's so much more comfortable to convince himself Dumbledore's lying to destabilize him."

"Ignorance is bliss," you say sardonically.

"You see the problem," Remus says. "While the Ministry insists there is nothing to fear from Voldemort, it's hard to convince people he's back, especially as they don't really want to believe it in the first place. What's more, the Ministry's leaning heavily on the Daily Prophet not to report any of what they're calling Dumbledore's 'rumourmongering', so most of the Wizarding community are completely unaware anything's happened, and that makes them easy targets for Death Eaters if they're using the Imperius Curse."

"But you're telling people, aren't you?" says Harry, looking around the table. "You're letting people know he's back?"

You smile humourlessly.

"Well, as everyone thinks I'm a mass murderer and the Ministry's put a ten-thousand galleon price on my head, I can hardly stroll up the street and start handing out leaflets, can I?" Sirius says grimly.

"And people don't exactly find the wife of said criminal the most trustworthy either," you say bleakly, shrugging.

"I'm not a very popular dinner guest with most of the community," Remus tells. "Occupational hazard of being a werewolf."

"Tonks and Arthur would lose their jobs at the Ministry if they started shooting their mouths off," Sirius explains, "and it's very important for us to have spies inside the Ministry, because you can bet Voldemort will have them."

"We've managed to convince a few people though," Mr Weasley says optimistically. "Tonks here, for one — she's too young to have been in the Order last time, and having Aurors on our side is a huge advantage — Kingsley Shacklebolt's been a real asset too. He's in charge of the hunt for Sirius, so he's been feeding the Ministry information that Sirius is in Tibet."

"But if none of you is putting the news out that Voldemort is back — " Harry begins, but Sirius stops him.

"Who said none of us was putting the news out? Why d'you think Dumbledore is in so much trouble?"

"What do you mean?" Harry asks.

"They're trying to discredit him," Remus explains. "Didn't you see the Daily Prophet last week? They reported that he'd been voted out of the Chairmanship of the International Confederation of Wizards because he's getting old and losing his grip, but it's not true, he was voted out by Ministry wizards after he made a speech announcing Voldemort's return. They've demoted him from Chief Warlock on the Wizengamot — that's the Wizard High Court — and they're talking about taking away his Order of Merlin, First Class, too."

"But Dumbledore says he doesn't care what they do as long as they don't take him off the Chocolate Frog cards," Bill chimes in, grinning.

"It's no laughing matter," Mr Weasley says shortly. "If he carries on defying the Ministry like this, he could end up in Azkaban and the last thing we want is Dumbledore locked up. While You-Know-Who knows Dumbledore's out there and wise to what he's up to, he's going to go cautiously for a while. If Dumbledore's out of the way — well, You-Know-Who will have a clear field."

"What's he after apart from followers?" Harry asks quickly.

You exchange a glance with Sirius before he says, "Stuff he can only get by stealth."

Harry stays looking confused, and Sirius continues, "Like a weapon. Something he didn't have last time."

"When he was powerful before?"

"Yes."

"Like what kind of weapon?" Harry asks. "Something worse than the Avada Kedavra — ? "

"That's enough."

From the shadows beside the door, Mrs Weasley stands, her expression furious. "I want you in bed, now. All of you."

"You can't boss us — " Fred begins.

"Watch me," she snarls, before turning her unapproving gaze on Sirius. "You've given Harry plenty of information. Any more and you might just as well induct him into the Order straight away."

"Why not?" Harry says. "I'll join, I want to join, I want to fight — "

"No."

This time, it's not Mrs Weasley who speaks, it's Remus.

"The Order is comprised of overage wizards," he says.

"Wizards who have left school," you add quickly, seeing the twins open their mouths. You sigh, pushing your chair away from the table, patting Sirius's arm softly. "Molly's right, Sirius. We've said enough. I think it's time everyone got some rest."

He gives a half-shrug but doesn't argue, waiting as Mrs Weasley leads her children and Harry upstairs to their bedrooms.

Later, you yawn around your toothbrush, facing the mirror in the dimly-lit ensuite off Sirius's bedroom.

"She can't seriously think leaving Harry in the dark about all this is the better option," Sirius muses testily, idly fiddling with your jewellery on the nightstand as he talks. "He's not a child. He's deserves to know what's going on."

"I agree."

"And the way she brought up James — as if I can't tell the difference between my best friend and my godson," he continues in frustration. "I know he's not James, of course I know that — "

You spit into the sink, pulling the tap to rinse it out. "She didn't know James. She doesn't know how difficult it is to stop yourself from looking at Harry and seeing him. How hard it is to not look for him and Lily in everything."

"No," Sirius says after a moment. "She doesn't."

You run your hands down your face, sighing. "I can't believe she said that thing about you in Azkaban. I can't believe she would stoop that low, as if you had any fucking choice to be in there."

"She hates me," he says. "Do you see the looks she gives me?"

"She doesn't hate you," you tell him wearily, flicking off the light and closing the bathroom door behind you. You lean against the doorframe, folding your arms. "She's scared and worried about Harry, that's all. She's stressed."

"She's not the only one."

"No, she's not," you say softly, making your way over to where he sits on the bed, gently taking his face in your hands. "Look, forget about it now. What's done is done, there's no use dwelling on it now."

He sighs, leaning into your touch with a small sigh. "You really are the most amazing woman I've ever met."

"I try."

He kisses your knuckles one by one, then presses a kiss to the inside of your wrist. "And clever."

You hum, watching as his lips slowly travel up your arm, arriving at your neck, where he lingers for several moments to kiss every inch of exposed skin he can reach. "And beautiful."

He pulls you toward him so you're straddling his legs, and he grins. "So very beautiful indeed."

✧⁠*⁠。✧⁠*⁠。

->-> read chapter twenty-seven here!

→ all kinds of interaction appreciated

absolutely massive thank you to my taglist lovelies <3 :

@mothraantics @wholelottalove05 @izuoyarmin @devoid-swanky @carpe000diem @mooonyxoxo @hyperspeedo @idkman5335 @elanna-elrondiel @murielisacertifieddilf @penelopied @imgondeletedis @jennifer0305

[hollowed-theory-hall]

thoughts on the hp epilogue? i kinda hate it and don't really consider it canon but im curious what your opinion is.

I'm not a fan, I usually disregard it.

There are things I don't like about the epilogue and things I don't mind. My dislikes range from the usual suspects like Harry naming his son "Albus Severus" to some deeper things actually.

This ended up a bit long, so I'll add a read more here.

So, I'm going to divide this into two parts, things written in the epilogue itself, and the supposedly canon future of the characters that bother me, but technically it's not in the books and therefore easier to ignore.

Thoughts about the epilogue itself:

I actually don't mind the character dynamics between the golden trio in the epilogue, I actually like some of them (like Ron's comments about his muggle driver's test). I like Neville becoming an Herbology professor as well.

Now, for what I don't like...

The existence of the epilogue as a whole bothers me. I don't feel like the books necessarily needed one, at least not one like this. I would've preferred it to end on a hopeful note of rebuilding and changing house stereotypes and muggleborn treatment so there won't be another Voldemort. Not just jump 19 years later to show a society that didn't change any of its inherent problems (more on that in the next section). But the fact Albus is concerned about being sorted into Slytherin shows me nothing changed. House prejudice is still rampant, and the wizarding world still gawks at Harry. Ron mentions casting spells in broad daylight on a muggle for his driver's exam, so clearly muggles and the Statue of Secrecy are still a joke. It's like, complete and utter stagnation.

I also, don't actually want to see the second generation in canon. This is one of those things I think is better off to leave for fan spaces. The whole epilogue feels like a weird fanfic, it doesn't feel like a part of the books. It's even written in a different POV, that same third-person omnipotent that appears in the first chapter of books 1, 4, and 6. It just feels outside the books, I don't know how else to put it. It took me out of the story instead of leaving me satisfied with the ending.

I made it no secret I hate Dumbledore, so having Harry name his son after the two men who made his life hell, as much if not more than the Dursleys, just... it's just really gross. I hate thinking about it even.

I'm not the biggest fan of the names Hugo and Rose either, but that's my personal opinion.

The final problem I have with the epilogue itself is more subjective than the others, but also the most glaring for me, and that's Harry and Ginny. I just really didn't like them as a couple for multiple reasons that I want to make a whole post about actually (it's in the drafts, I'm working on it). But I didn't like the fact Harry married Ginny, I just really don't like them together. It's more of a me thing, and I'm sure fans who ship them together don't mind this, hence why I saved it for last, but it does bother me quite a bit.

And it's not that I dislike all of JK's canon pairings. I like Ron and Hermione, Bill and Fleur, Remus and Tonks, James and Lily — I like all of them well enough. It's Harry and Ginny that I have a problem with.

Thoughts about things JK said about the characters' futures (cursed child and Pottermore and a bit of the epilogue):

I don't like the Harry's and Hermione's careers, I think they are a disservice to the characters.

I go into more detail below about why the Ministry of Magic really really sucks, but with how the final books (5 and afterward) are all about how bad and corrupt the ministry is, it sits really wrong for me than Harry and Hermione go to work there.

And like, with as much as Harry is good in DADA and likes it, I don't think he'll actually enjoy being an Auror. Being an auror is more than just fighting dark wizards. It's filling out paperwork, dealing with bureaucracy, and having to obey his boss. Harry can't obey anyone, I can't see him working well in a hierarchical system that supports authority, it's the antithesis of a character who could resist the imperious curse on his first try because of how much he hates obeying. Personally, I think Harry should've removed the DADA teacher's curse and stayed at Hogwarts. Like, I see him as a DADA professor who often joins Aurors as, like, a special advisor or something. It'll give him more freedom and I think he'll like working with students and staying at Hogwarts.

As for Hermione, yes, she had SPEW, and I definitely think she would spend her life trying to improve creature rights, I just can't really see her becoming a minister. Hermione isn't about strategy (that was Ron), and she isn't about leading (that was Harry). Hermione is compassionate, and I do, as I mentioned, expect her to work for creature rights and improve the state of muggleborns in their society. But she's also a need, who loves reading and studying, I kinda feel she'd be more at home as an unspeakable rather than the minister. She just isn't a politician. Think about them breaking into Gringotts where she literally couldn't lie to save their lives.

Ron, I kinda like the idea of him trying to be an Auror and leaving after two years (honestly, Harry could have done the same and I would've been more willing to accept it). And I don't mind the idea of him helping George at Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes, I understand why he'll want to do it. Both to get out of the limelight, to help George with Fred's loss that they all share (tbh I'm in denial about that), and the chill environment probably would be good for him after the war. I think Ron will have fun in such a profession, honestly. He's the only one where I can kinda see it.

I don't like the way the Wizarding World is portrayed in the epilogue as I mentioned above — like nothing changed.

In the final books in the series (but actually, we see hints of this in books 2 and 3 already) the ministry is repeatedly portrayed as corrupt and inherently discriminatory — both towards magical creatures and muggleborns.

I don't think I need to discuss House Elves and werewolves too much, as the books state the problems in the ministry’s treatment of these groups quite plainly. But what the books don't mention as much is how hard muggleborns who wish to stay in the Wizarding World have it.

While there are private professions like shop owners, broom makers, Quidditch players, authors, and such, most jobs in the Wizarding World are in the ministry. And you can't get a job in the ministry unless you have connections in the ministry. They run on nepotism and who-knows-who and not merit. This places all muggleborns, even ones like Hermione (if she wasn't a war hero) at a disadvantage when searching for a job after Hogwarts.

We see it with Tom Riddle (12 NEWTs, all O's, prefect, and head boy). Yes, Slughorn pulled some strings to get him job offers, but he preferred to work at Borgin and Butkes over the lowly ministry positions they were willing to give a muggleborn who got a recommendation! What do you think happens to the muggleborns without a close relationship with Slughorn or to students who were quiet but still got solid Os and Es. And we don't know if other teachers recommend students to the ministry.

And that's before I talk about how muggleborns are introduced to magic, which is abhorrent. Or the lack of care towards child abuse (cases like Harry, Voldemort, and Snape come to mind). Or wizards' condescension towards everything muggle. Even Arthur Weasley, who supposedly loves muggles, is incredibly condescending towards muggles and ill-informed about them.

This outlook on muggles is why the Statue of Secrecy is a joke. I mean, book 1 opens with Vernon seeing weird people in colorful cloaks celebrating Voldemort’s downfall. They have no subtlety. considering Ron confounded the examiner on his driver's test and Harry and his family walked with owls in a muggle train station, this didn't get better either...

Sorry for my rant about the ministry, but all this is to say, I don't like the idea of Harry and Hermione working in such a corrupt system that they both witnessed the damage of firsthand. And even if they did work there, I kinda expected them to change it. To actually put in the effort to improve the damaged system they had, and JK mentioned they did. But in the epilogue and any other material we see no signs of this improvement. Everything is still corrupt and running on connections and favors. Otherwise, Albus Potter wouldn't be scared of being sorted into Slytherin, that fact alone means the prejudices that are a huge problem in their world still exist.

The ministry's corruption was such a big plot point in the final books that it feels weird to me that it isn't addressed in any way in the epilogue itself. I mean, the reason Voldemort rose to power as easily as he did was because the ministry and their society were built to allow it.

My ideal epilogue will take place maybe a few months after the war, it'll show them rebuilding, and being hopeful for a future that'll now exist. Stop the house rivalries that do more damage than good and cease the discrimination against muggleborns and creatures, or at least take the first steps towards something better. And it'll show the couples together and the golden trio's friendship, but no second-generation stuff. I feel that wasn't necessary to get the point across. Which I don't feel it did. Like, it gave me the wrong kind of catharsis that I wasn't looking for, if that makes any sense. It just gave me answers to questions I didn't ask.

Tldr;

Sorry for my rambling, the epilogue and anything stated after the books isn't really canon in my head.

[sideprince]

Today's hot take: when Harry started his first year at school, Snape expected him to appreciate the opportunity and the escape Hogwarts gave him from his abusive home, just like Snape had at his age. Snape gives him an opportunity to prove himself and Harry lets him down. I have no doubt that Severus 'I corrected the text and made it better' Snape read all his books in anticipation of going to Hogwarts, and showed up knowing as much as Hermione did on her first day. He calls on Harry in his first class because he's curious about Harry and wants to know how clever he is, and when Harry doesn't know any of the answers, Snape assumes it means Harry is taking his place at Hogwarts for granted.

He doesn't yet know Harry is abused at home, but he does know that he's an orphaned wizard living with Petunia who Snape knows the measure of enough to know she won't have started hating wizards any less than when they were kids. He likely sees that Harry is thin and bears signs of neglect, because he knows them firsthand. I think he may have had a hope that he might connect, in some way, with his once best friend's son, and when Harry shows up looking like James and seemingly not having opened a single book, Snape assumes he has no curiosity and is arrogant like James had been. And to be honest, Harry could have done better; if he'd read through the books with real interest instead of just flipping through them, he might have been able say, "I don't know what happens when you combine asphodel and wormwood, but I do know that wormwood is an herb and asphodel is a flower."

“Potter!’ said Snape suddenly. ‘What would I get if I added powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?’ Powdered root of what to an infusion of what? Harry glanced at Ron, who looked as stumped as he was; Hermione’s hand had shot into the air. ‘I don’t know, sir,’ said Harry. Snape’s lips curled into a sneer. ‘Tut, tut - fame clearly isn’t everything.’ He ignored Hermione’s hand. ‘Let’s try again. Potter, where would you look if I told you to find me a bezoar?’ Hermione stretched her hand as high into the air as it would go without her leaving her seat, but Harry didn’t have the faintest idea what a bezoar was. He tried not to look at Malfoy, Crabbe and Goyle, who were shaking with laughter. ‘I don’t know, sir.’ ‘Thought you wouldn’t open a book before coming, eh, Potter?’ Harry forced himself to keep looking straight into those cold eyes. He had looked through his books at the Dursleys’, but did Snape expect him to remember everything in One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi? Snape was still ignoring Hermione’s quivering hand. ‘What is the difference, Potter, between monkshood and wolfsbane?’“At this, Hermione stood up, her hand stretching towards the dungeon ceiling. ‘I don’t know,’ said Harry quietly. ‘I think Hermione does, though, why don’t you try her?’ A few people laughed; Harry caught Seamus’s eye and Seamus winked. Snape, however, was not pleased. ‘Sit down,’ he snapped at Hermione. ‘For your information, Potter, asphodel and wormwood make a sleeping potion so powerful it is known as the Draught of Living Death. A bezoar is a stone taken from the stomach of a goat and it will save you from most poisons. As for monkshood and wolfsbane, they are the same plant, which also goes by the name of aconite. Well? Why aren’t you all copying that down?'

Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone, Ch. 8

A lot of people like to read this moment through the lens of Victorian flower language, but there's also a lot going on between the characters. Harry had "looked through his books" but that isn't clear to a teacher who can only see his baffled face, contrasted with Hermione who knows every answer and has clearly put in effort and interest. I think Snape has high expectations of his students, in part because he doesn't understand or value how brilliant he really is himself and assumes others should have similar abilities. He doesn't appreciate that Harry, like most people, can't just recall information he read casually and didn't deliberately study.

Harry, for his part, is also not academically minded. He was given a rare, incredible opportunity to escape a terrible home situation and spent a whole month with little to do but wait until it was time to go to Hogwarts. An entire identity that he was unaware of and that connected him to his parents was suddenly revealed, and his textbooks were the closest thing he had to understanding their world, and all he did was peruse them. Even if he wasn't the smartest kid or an academic like Hermione, if he's read them with the curiosity many others would have had in his situation, he would know what at least some of the ingredients Snape mentions are, even if he doesn't know what the various effects of combining them is. Snape asks an array of questions and there isn't a single moment where Harry shows any sign of recognizing what he's talking about even remotely. If he'd read his books with any real interest, he would at least be going, "I remember seeing this... damn I don't know what the books said, though" in his head, even if not out loud. We're seeing the narrative through his lens, but there's no sign of him recalling anything, only his defensiveness at how unfair it is that Snape thinks he didn't crack a book open when he did - and yet Snape might as well be speaking Greek to him. I don't think Snape's biases against him were fully justified, but I do think there's truth in Harry having a certain degree of hubris and an ease with which he accepts that he's a wizard - special, privileged, destined for greater things - that resembles James.

The other thing I think is worth pointing out about the above excerpt is not only that Snape has given Harry a chance to stand out and prove himself in order to see what he does with the opportunity, he also ends this moment by telling the other students to copy down what he's saying. He hasn't lost sight of the fact that he's still teaching, and we see this in him again and again, most especially right after he's killed Dumbledore, when he's still teaching Harry to close his mind even as he fends off his attacks. Through this whole scene, even though it seems like Snape is taunting Harry and singling him out to make him look foolish, what he's actually doing is teaching and gauging Harry's personality. Every word he says is knowledge he's passing on to his students, and he demands that they take them as such.

[fanfic-lover-girl]

Poor Kreacher

‘Kreacher will do whatever Master wants,’ said Kreacher, sinking so low that his lips almost touched his gnarled toes, ‘because Kreacher has no choice, but Kreacher is ashamed to have such a Master, yes –’

‘Master thinks of everything and Kreacher must obey him even though Kreacher would much rather be the servant of the Malfoy boy, oh yes …’

‘Well … they’ve been following Malfoy for me,’ he said. ‘Night and day,’ croaked Kreacher. ‘Dobby has not slept for a week, Harry Potter!’ said Dobby proudly, swaying where he stood. ‘You haven’t slept, Dobby? But surely, Harry, you didn’t tell him not to –’ ‘No, of course I didn’t,’ said Harry quickly. ‘Dobby, you can sleep, all right? But has either of you found out anything?’ he hastened to ask, before Hermione could intervene again.

I swear after every book, I hate Harry Potter (the book and character) more and more. There has hardly been a fictional world I despise more.

I wrote a post earlier about how Harry is not the rightful Black heir, no that title belongs to Narcissa and Draco.

How is the Kreacher/Harry (or Kreacher/Sirius) dynamic different from the Dobby/Malfoy dynamic? Both elves are stuck serving people they hate. So why should Dobby evoke sympathy but not Kreacher? The same Dobby who got Harry in trouble with the Dursleys and almost killed him (and watched Harry sleep like a creep). And as much as Dobby claims to be a free elf, Dobby is basically a willing slave (ie bootlicker) for Harry and Dumbledore. It's almost disgusting to see. Let's face it: Dobby does not hate being a slave, he just hated being a slave to the Malfoys. There's a difference.

If Harry can free Dobby (who wasn't even his elf), why won't he free the elf he hates and who hates him? Kreacher clearly prefers to be Draco's elf.

Also, curious how Hermione (the self-appointed elf activist) is quiet about Harry being an elf owner. She got all hot and livid when she found out Hogwarts had house elves but now it's A-ok for Harry to have one?? Not that Harry gives a single crap about what Hermione has to say anyway. Notice how she only expresses concern for Dobby's sleep and not Kreacher's.

But you might say: Kreacher probably knows the Order's secrets. He can't leave!

Solution: There's something called magic! It's a forgotten concept in HP, unfortunately (several descriptions of wizards carrying heavy luggage prove that. What was the first spell they learnt again?? That's right - wingardium leviosa). Make Kreacher take an Unbreakable Vow in exchange for his freedom or Obliviate him. Problem solved! Let Kreacher run free to Malfoy Manor in the sunset!

I just find Kreacher very funny and I prefer him over Dobby. Dobby is just another brainless Harry Potter worshipper. Plus I think Kreacher and Draco would get along like a house on fire. I can imagine Kreacher waxing poetic about how wonderful Draco is and Draco just smirking in amusement and laughing his head off. Haha!

[atyd1960]

Here’s an in depth explanation about why if the plot holes in Harry Potter weren’t bigger than the of the plot itself and things actually MADE SENSE, the books wouldn’t have had any plot and everyone would’ve been happy and alive:

Voldemort’s attempted murder:

How do you fail to kill a 1 year old baby? I truly couldn’t come up with an easier murder scenario. DROP HIM FROM THE WINDOW. SLICE HIS THROAT. PUNCH HIM REALLY HARD OVER HIS HEART. If Harry actually died Voldemort would win the war.

Harry’s residence with the Dursleys:

1. Dumbledore said that the only way to keep Harry safe was to keep him living with Petunia, but he was comfortable with putting Harry in Grimmauld place 2 month after Voldy came back, or having him living him with the Weasleys at the height of the war a year later? So he clearly could’ve let Harry live with a good a loving adoptive wizarding family with means to defend/protect him magically instead of by blood or whatever it is the Petunia had.

2. If the UK is the center of the war and the place where Voldemort was most powerful then why putting Harry there? He could’ve lived in some little village in France and then go to Hogwarts when he was 11 (I know only people from the UK can get into Hogwarts but I’m sure they could make and exception for Harry). In that scenario Harry also would’ve had a choice between Hogwarts and Beauxbatons \ the magical school of whatever country he lived in, and I think any school that isn’t Hogwarts would’ve been safer for him.

3. Even if for some reason Harry really did have to grow up in London with the Dursleys, that’s no excuse for the neglect he got from Dumbledore. The man could’ve gotten the Muggle Child Protection Services involved, he could’ve kept track on Harry’s life- like put a guard or something, or visit/make someone else visit him regularly to threaten the Dursleys and make them give Harry a ROOM??? And treat him better?? He could’ve let Ms Figg be actually kind and good to Harry and be somewhat a mother figure to him bc god knows little Harry needed somebody like that in his life. He could’ve been PRESENT in Harry’s childhood??? He could’ve gotten Harry into a good elementary boarding school or whatever. SO MANY OPTIONS. Harry deserves better.

Harry’s first year in Hogwarts:

1. Dumbledore could put the philosopher’s stone in a magically secured vault and hide it in his office and then not tell to anyone about it / lie about its whereabouts.

2. It’s explained that Dumbledore KNEW that Quirrell had some sort of involvement with Voldy/the dark forces, so he could just FIRE HIM???

3. Dumbledore could confront Quirrell and kill him by himself instead of leavig it to a dumb 11 y/o?

4. The options are literally endless.

Side note: it’s definitely not talked about enough in the fandom or in the books that Harry literally murdered a guy on his first year in Hogwarts? That’s some heavy shit.

Harry’s second year:

Dumbledore could’ve just sent all the tiny little helpless pupils back to their homes after a cat got PETRIFIED in a hate crime and hung on a wall with a racist writing that’s a warning to all the muggle borns in the school?? And then he could’ve found the chamber of secrets himself and confront Tom Riddle and bring the kids back when everything’s safe. Who keeps their school open when there’s a continues terrorism attack going on in it???

Side note- if in MY school a cat got petrified and hung on the wall, with her blood used to deliver a hateful message, I would call my mom crying and shaking and ask her if I can move to different school. And possibly a different country while we’re at it:)

Harry’s third year:

None of that shit would’ve happened if Sirius just got his trial like he should’ve and like what’s required in any civilized society??? Dumbledore really did him dirty- that’s your student of 7 years and the guy who gave up his youth to fight by your side, he put his life on the line under your order countless times and then you just give up on him at the first sign that something’s wrong???? FOUL.

They could give Sirius the truth serum after locking him up at the end of the book. And then they would know that he’s telling the truth and they would let him go.

Harry’s fourth year:

1. HOW DO U FAIL TO REALIZE THAT THE GUY YOU WORKED WITH FOR LITERAL DECADES AND WAS PRACTICALLY YOUR SECOND IN COMMAND DURING ONE OF THE WORST WARS YOUR WORLD HAS FACED IN CENTURIES IS NOT ACTUALLY THE SAME GUY AS THE ONE YOU HIRED TO TEACH A BUNCH OF INCOMPETENT LITTLE BRATS HOW TO DO MAGIC FOR A WHOLE YEAR.

2. All the signs were there and were so obvious, Dumbledore should’ve acted to reveal Barty before everything went down. All it took was an OFFICE CHECK??? Bro.

Also- Barty could just kidnap Harry on his first day back in school and apparate to the graveyard with him. Why wait a whole year?? Why give Harry such an easy way out (the Portkey)???

Harry’s fifth year:

1. If the ministry of magic put their truth serum and ability to read minds to use they could confirm that Voldy’s back and join Dumbledore in his efforts to prevent the upcoming war. Voldy was fairly weak at that point so if the ministry did a sufficient investigation and properly warned everyone, Voldemort could’ve been locked up and killed very quickly.

1. We all know this book is nothing but a big 896 pages long chunk of MISCOMMUNICATION. If Dumbledore just told Harry the truth about the prophecy and about his mom’s spell in the beginning and not in the end everything would’ve been fine.

2. Dumbledore could just let someone from the order blow the prophecy up or something. Set it on fire and shit. Make it gone.

Harry’s sixth year:

1. If Dummydore actually gave a shit about his students he would have helped Draco and give him and his parents a shelter and work harder to make the school impossible for death eaters to get into.

2. If he didn’t willingly refuse the privilege of treatment to his curse then he wouldn’t have DIED and left poor 16 y/o Harry all by himself.

3. Dummydore could’ve just kept dumbass 16 y/o Harry Potter out of the hunt after the cursed&deadly soul pieces of his parents’s murderer. He could get someone appropriately old and competent to help him.

Harry’s seventh year:

1. If Dumbledore didn’t refuse medical treatment he could’ve just hunt for the horcruxes himself.

2. Dumbledore could’ve left Harry & Hermione & Ron a little more than a children’s book and a lighter??? Like he could actually give them means to protect themselves.

3. Dumbledore could’ve gotten older more competent order members to go after the horcruxes and not leave it in the hands of a bunch of teens.

4. The only thing that must involve Harry in the whole of the 7 books JK wrote about him, is his death. Harry had to die for Voldy to be defeated. And that’s the only thing he had to do. Ever.

In conclusion: Everything’s Dumbledore’s fault

[thecarnivorousmuffinmeta]

What are your thoughts on both fanon interpretations of Dumbledore ("Light Lord Wizarding Saint with 500IQ" alongside "Secretly Evil Puppet Master") and how they compare to canon Dumbledore?

Previous thoughts on Manipulative Dumbledore.

I mean, it's no great secret I'm on the Manipulative Dumbledore side of the house. I'm not as extreme as most, certainly don't follow most of the fanon interpretations, but I do think he's generally up to no good.

But alright, let's get to it.

Light Lord Wizarding Saint with 500IQ

Dumbledore is certainly one of the smarter characters in the series. He's constantly poking fun at other people in ways they don't get, generally has a good grasp on any given thing happening, and just runs circles around Harry in every single conversation they have.

(Though admittedly, some of Dumbledore's 10 step plans are laughably absurd and I can't believe they worked out for him. Let's just say Snape was working overtime.)

But Light Lord Wizarding Saint?

It's pretty bad when fandom has to justify to itself why Dumbledore can still be seen in this manner. We usually get explanations in any given fic on how Dumbledore could leave Harry with the Dursleys (he was shocked! shocked! by the fact that Harry was being abused and had no idea!) How Dumbledore planned for Harry to kill himself in book seven (he absolutely knew Harry would rise from the dead like Jesus and somehow beat Malfoy in a duel and get the Elder Wand that Snape accidentally didn't inherit!) Why Dumbledore placed the philosopher's stone as bait in a school with children and advertised that something was clearly in the basement to the entire school (Hogwarts is the safest place in the world!)

What it comes down to, I think, is the readers who read through and felt much like Harry. Dumbledore was this wise, good, authority figure we trusted. He was like Principal Gandalf! And the idea that he wasn't that, is sort of like setting your childhood dreams on fire.

Even admitting "alright, he made some questionable decisions, but he had no choice!" seems to be hard for this side of the equation. And I think it's a fear that Harry Potter will lose its magic if they look at it that way.

It's much the same in other fandoms.

Much of the Twilight world doesn't want to admit how thoroughly messed up Twilight truly is. Oh, they'll say Edward did bad things, but you see many fix it fics where his behavior is easily fixed with a stern talking to so now he doesn't sneak into her bedroom anymore. Claps for Edward.

MCU fandom will hold Stucky in its hands until hell freezes over, and the Russo brothers rise from the depths yet again with another movie "It's Really Not Stucky: Again". And even then, they won't let go.

It's not something unique to Harry Potter and I'm not shocked to see Dumbledore get this treatment.

Secretly Evil Puppet Master

The trouble with this one is people accuse Dumbledore of ridiculous shit that's too stupid for him to bother with.

No, he has no need to select Harry's friends for him and pay them off with Harry's stolen money. No, he has no need to steal Harry's money under his nose to fund his operations. No, he has no need to secretly brainwash Harry with dark magic to make him into a 'good puppet'. No, he doesn't secretly use dark magic in his basement and was EVIL THE WHOLE TIME!

He doesn't need to do any of that to achieve his goals.

He achieves them just fine in canon without resorting to such measures.

I also think the thing about Dumbledore is that he believes what he says and he believes he is who he says he is. He's driven by a very strong righteousness and a belief that all ends justify the means. He knows Voldemort is bad and must be stopped and therefore he's willing to justify quite a bit to do it.

But he's not hiding some dark persona, nor do I think he derives joy from manipulating others and working as puppet master in the shadows. These are just tools he employs to do what he believes must be done, it's just how he operates, his trouble is that he sees no other way to operate.

[free-pool-trash]

x of swords - george weasley

part one of three

Summary: Growing up as Harry’s neighbor, you always believed that you were completely regular. In an attempt to feel closer to Harry (your best friend) you begin to dabble in the art of divination and, in the process, you uncover magic that you didn’t know you had. (i hate doing summaries this does not sum it up but you get the jist)

Relationships: George Weasley x Reader, platonic!Harry Potter x Reader, platonic!OC x Reader, platonic!Sirius Black x Reader, platonic!Remus Lupin x Reader, platonic!Fred Weasley x Reader, platonic!Nymphadora Tonks x Reader, platonic!Molly Weasley x Reader, platonic!Hermoine Granger x Reader, Sirius Black x Remus Lupin

Warnings: Swearing, anxiety, fluff, angst, mentions of torture, mentions of death (let me know if I missed anything!)

Word count: 22.9k 

so here it is 😏 i was going to wait until i was completely finished with this to post it but i didn’t wanna rush it and oh my god it’s already so long  😫 I’m moving to Edinburgh in 2 weeks so i won’t be able to write as i have so much to pack so i hope this keeps some of you happy for a while <3 obviously i put a lot of effort into this and spent a lot of time on it so i really hope yall like it and i will personally kiss everyone who comments. likes or reblogs <3

mastelist

Life on Privet Drive was definitely something- something being incredibly boring. Nothing even remotely exciting happened on the street and the company was, to put it simply, miserable.

You’d lived in 5 Privet Drive since birth which, unfortunately for you, meant that your family are extremely close with the Dursleys who live next door. The Dursleys are a family of bigoted, pig-headed bullies. Made up of Petunia, Vernon, Dudley and, in your opinion the only tolerable one, Harry.

From the age of five, Harry had been your only friend on the street and vice versa. Initially, the both of you had bonded over your dislike of Dudley but as the years rolled on Harry and yourself had become virtually inseparable.

It was certainly strange- how close your parents were with Petunia and Vernon. Your mother and father are actually quite lovely, they are the complete opposite of the Dursleys, they’re open minded, kind and extremely friendly. But, you supposed, their friendliness didn’t discriminate from person to person, even if said person forced their orphaned nephew to sleep in the cupboard underneath the stairs.

There was no denying that Harry had been miserable with the Dursleys, who were unfortunately his only remaining family and you supposed you should’ve been happy when your best friend finally got away from them after his 11th birthday.

You’d missed him for the entire school year and you only got a chance to ask where he’d actually gone off to when he’d arrived home for the summer. (You didn’t believe the story Vernon had spun about Harry attending a boarding school for juvenile trouble makers).

“It’s incredible, (Y/n), honestly! I wish you could be there too.” He’d told you when you finally saw him again, after he’d finished his first year in his mysterious boarding school.

“That’s great, Haz, but where exactly is it?” You wondered and Harry only gave you his signature grin.

“Scotland.”

With a heavy sigh you let the subject go, he was clearly happy wherever he was going to school so it didn’t matter where or what it was. As long as he was happy.

By the time his 12th birthday rolled around you’d found the perfect gift for him. You’d made your parents buy you a polaroid camera for him to take away to school, he’d told you so many amazing stories about his school, you wanted to see some of it for yourself so you figured a camera would be the best course of action.

The morning of his birthday, Harry was woken up by the sound of pebbles tapping against his barred up window. The boy looked out to see you waving at him, an excited smile on your face and a neatly wrapped present in your other hand. Harry couldn’t stop the smile that formed on his face as you beckoned him down with your hand. It was barely dawn but you knew better than to give a present for Harry to either his aunt or uncle because they’d only give it to Dudley, so it was best to get it to him before the rest of his supposed family woke up.

Hogwarts was amazing and Harry was over the moon to have discovered he was a wizard and make so many new friends, but he had missed you- his only friend in the muggle world. Your birthday was only a few weeks after his and he hoped that maybe you’d get a hogwarts letter of your own, obviously that hadn’t happened. Nonetheless he was happy to see you in the summer, he couldn’t shake the thought that Ron and Hermione would have loved to meet you though.

Slowly and quietly, Harry snook down the stairs and out the front door to meet you.

“Happy birthday, Haz!” You whisper-shouted excitedly, pulling the green-eyed boy into your house so he wouldn’t get caught outside when he wasn’t even allowed out of his bedroom.

Harry rolled his eyes at the nickname, “I hope you know that you’re still the only person who calls me that.”

“Good,” you said happily, closing the front door behind you. “Anyway, I got you something that you can bring away to school with you!” He rose an eyebrow at you as you pushed the carefully wrapped box into his hands, “Open it,” you instructed. And so he did.

It was very possibly the most expensive gift he’d ever gotten, you (or your parents) usually got Harry presents that couldn’t be stolen by Dudley. For example, your mother had taken to buying Harry his own clothes, seeing as your best friend was a lot taller and thinner than his horrid cousin.

You, on the other hand, would usually make him gifts with sentimental value, something Dudley had absolutely zero interest in. The camera though, you knew would be safe as Harry would be leaving for school again soon enough.

Harry stared dumbfounded at the cardboard box that held the rather large polaroid camera, judging by the image on the box it was a good quality thing, probably expensive. “This is… really nice, (Y/n).”

A bright smile found your lips as you rushed into an animated explanation about why you’d picked a camera as his birthday present this year.

“So you can take lots of pictures of you and your new friends in your new fancy private school and when you come back here you can show them to me!” Harry chuckled and nodded his head, hoping he’d be able to find time to take pictures like you wanted.

“I’ll take pictures of everything. Promise.” He told you, holding out his pinky with a cheeky grin. You linked your pinky with his and nodded gratefully.

“We should christen it,” Harry announced, tearing into the box and he quickly set the camera up before he pointed it at you expectantly. “Well, come on then. I’ve told my school friends all about you, they’re going to want to see what you look like too. So, smile-“ with a disbelieving laugh, you crossed your legs underneath yourself from where you were sitting on the floor across from Harry, and tucked your hair behind your ears before you looked directly at the lense of the camera and gave it the brightest smile you could muster. The camera flashed and the picture slowly revealed itself, it seemed to be good enough to satisfy Harry’s twelve year old self.

He’d shown the polaroid to Hermione first, the bushy haired girl had smiled softly as she held the polaroid gently, “She seems lovely, Harry.”

Harry had nodded his head in agreement, you were lovely. He just hoped Dudley wasn’t terrorising you too much while he was away. His cousin always had somewhat of a crush on you, which Harry knew was ridiculous considering you all but loathed Dudley.

True to his word, Harry had taken plenty of pictures, many were of (non-magic) areas of the Hogwarts campus, many were of his friends; Ron, Hermione, Fred and George Weasley (who had an absolute field day with the muggle contraption), one or two of Hagrid and he even managed to capture a nice one of the owlery. Although you were one of his best friends, sometimes thinking about you while he was in Hogwarts brought his mood down. It reminded him of how much he wished you could’ve shared in his adventures and not to mention how much he missed you, you could hardly send him an owl, what with being a muggle and all, so he only got to spend time with you during the summer months.

Things had changed during his third year, though. When he received a rather shocking, albeit very welcome, letter.

Dear Harry,

I’d like to start by saying: hi, how are you? How’s school? Good? Great. Now that that’s out of the way… when you come home I’m going to KILL you!!! I cannot believe you didn’t tell me you are a wizard! Well, I understand why you didn’t but anyway.

You’re probably wondering how I found all of this out. Long story short, I saw Vernon’s sister floating around your sitting room and then I saw you running out swinging a wand around. I put two and two together. You would not believe how long it took me to figure out how to get in contact with you. I practically had to beg Dudley to tell me how to get this package to you, he eventually told me how in exchange for a kiss on the cheek. It was as horrifying as it sounds, the things I do for you, Haz, honestly. Don’t worry though, you can make it up to me over the summer.

I bought an owl by the way. I’m guessing she found you okay? Look after her for a little while before sending her back will you? She’s just a baby so she can’t do too much long distance travel just yet.The lady I got her from is a witch, she was very kind and knew exactly what I was looking to use an owl for. Her name is Astra (the owl’s not the lady’s)! Isn’t she lovely?

Moving on from that, I felt bad forcing you to send me pictures and getting nothing in return so I have decided to very kindly grace you with my exhilaratingly normal life. You will also find I sent you some of those sweets you like.

Tell Ron and Hermione that I said hi! Oh and Fred and George too! Get into lots of trouble for me ;) I suppose I better stop rambling now, sorry about that I’m just excited (and i might be missing you… just a tiny bit!)

Write back to me soon, if you can! Tell Astra I’m proud of her for making her first delivery! (give her plenty of treats for me yeah?)

I’ll let you get back to your wizardy stuff now, Haz.

Lots of love,

(Y/n) xoxo

P.s. your magical secret is safe with me. promise.

Harry looked up from your letter with a dazed smile, your new little owl was looking at him expectantly, no doubt awaiting her treat, “Good job, Astra. Your owner says she’s very proud of you,” he informed her, handing her a piece of bacon from his breakfast plate and laughed when she hooted happily.

Astra is a gorgeous little tawny, she has brown and white feathers that were fluffy to the touch. Harry could already tell she was well suited to you though, she was friendly as anything with the most curious eyes he’d ever seen.

“Whose it from?” Ron grunted from beside him, munching happily on his huge breakfast.

Harry let out a short laugh, digging into the envelope to pull out the photos and sweets you’d sent, “(Y/n).”

“I thought she didn’t know about you?” Hermione asked from beside Ron, Harry only shrugged.

“She figured it out. She’s quite clever, I think you’d like her Hermione. She says hi by the way.” He answered somewhat distantly, distracted by the pictures you’d sent, all of which had writing on the backs. He paused on one photo, he guessed one of your parents had taken it, you were stood in the woods, surrounded by trees with a huge smile on your face, your eyes were closed and your nose was scrunched up as a very tiny Astra seemed to be nibbling at your ear affectionately.

“I’m sure we’d get along, I admire her determination, really. And she even bought an owl?” The girl questioned, reaching over and petting Astra gently.

Harry’s smile was gentle as Astra hopped onto his shoulder, “Yeah, suppose she did.”

“Alright! I’m gonna say it!” George Weasley exclaimed, plucking the photo of you from Harry’s grasp, he held it between himself and Fred, the older twin had somehow swiped the letter you’d written. “Harry’s girlfriend back home is quite cute, don’t you think, Freddie?” Fred nodded resolutely, pushing the letter into George’s face as he pointed towards a specific line.

“I have to agree and look, Georgie, she told Harry to tell us that she says hi! Ugh, such a darling,” Fred fake swooned and Harry felt his face heat up while George made kissy faces.

“She’s not my girlfriend.” Yeah, you had opened Harry up to a whole new world of teasing yet somehow he didn’t mind.

“Oi, do you think she’d like some of our Weasley products?” George asked genuinely, wiggling his eyebrows. Harry shuddered at the thought of you getting a hold of anything that Fred and George had created, because yes, you would like some magical pranking products. You had quite a talent for mischief, only in Harry’s worst nightmares would the Weasley twins ever get their hands on you.

Harry shrugged his shoulders nonchalantly, “Dunno.”

“She single?” Fred asked jokingly and Harry scrunched his face up. He supposed you were single, though, he’d never really pictured you with anyone. He felt quite protective over you, but he supposed he'd like to see you happy with someone he approved of- or alternatively; anyone but Dudley.

“Think so,” Harry told him with another shrug before a cheeky grin spread across his lips, as he focused his attention on the twins who were nudging each other in mock victory, “Why? Should I write home and tell her the esteemed Weasley twins have a crush on her?”

George was the first the speak, he nodded, completely serious and Harry found himself worrying that perhaps one of the Weasley twins would get his hands on you.

“Yes. Absolutely,” Fred snorted and said no more, allowing his younger twin to continue the girl based antics seeing as Fred’s actual crush, Angelina, had started to glare. “In fact, give her my name. Tell her to write to me next time, eh?”

Harry’s eyes widened, oh Merlin, George was serious.

“Oh sod off, would you? The poor girl is a muggle, she’d throw herself off the astronomy tower if she got stuck with either of you prats.” Ron said through a laugh, none of them could deny it was quite funny, even Hermione had to bite back a smile at the chaos your simple letter had caused.

Around two weeks had passed until Astra returned to you, two letters attached to her leg this time.

You greeted her with a warm smile as she landed on the inside of you window, “Welcome home, pretty lady! Did you have a nice trip?” You cooed, patting her feathers and giggling when she nuzzled her head against your fingers. Having a magical owl as a pet was weird, but still, you seemed to be managing her okay.

Astra hooted happily, as if informing you that she did, in fact, have a nice trip. “That’s good! Let me take these letters off and you can have a well deserved rest, I’ve made a nice nest up for you,” you rambled softly as you untied the string that was holding the letters to her leg.

Astra hooted, hopping onto your arm and allowing you to place her on the plush pile of pillows and blankets which she immediately made herself comfortable upon, once again hooting in content when you placed a handful of treats in front of her.

You assumed that both letters were from Harry until you noticed the messy handwriting that covered one of the envelopes, handwriting that definitely didn’t belong to Harry. Besides, never, even in the furthest reaches of your imagination, would your best friend ever refer to you as; “Harry’s Pretty Neighbour”. You set that one to the side for the time being and focused on the letter you knew to actually be from Harry.

Dear (Y/n),

Hi. Sorry I didn’t tell you I was a wizard. If it makes you feel better I was actually planning on telling you this summer, but thank you for saving me from that conversation. I miss you too (only a tad). I hope you’re having a good school year so far, it’s been pretty chaotic here but I promise I’ll tell you every single tiny detail when we see each other at the end of May!

Did Astra get home okay? She’s a really lovely owl, she took quite a liking to George who (terrifyingly) has taken quite a liking to you. He’s been badgering me all week for “permission” to write to you, in his words, “just to say hello.” I think you’d actually get along but he and the rest of his family are very magic oriented, I’d be surprised if he didn’t scare you away… the pair of you together would be my worst nightmare. Don’t even get me started on how I’d feel if Fred was in the mix too. I’m tired just thinking about it.

Thank you for the sweets they were lovely, I put a chocolate frog in the envelope for you, it’s a really popular sweet in the wizarding world- don’t freak out when it hops, it’s just a charm the frog isn’t really alive.

I enjoyed the pictures too, I put a few in this letter for you too, the polaroid is running out of film but it should be enough to keep me going until the end of term.

Write to me again soon, I like hearing from you.

Take care,

Harry.

P.S. I’m really sorry you had to kiss Dudley, I’ll do something to make it up to you. Promise.

P.P.S. If George OR Fred manage to write to you PLEASE don’t eat anything they give you.

With a laugh you set the letter down beside you. Curiously, you reached a hand into the ivory envelope and pulled out the peculiarly shaped chocolate box as well as the polaroids. You viewed the photos with a fond smile, Harry always looked so happy, even with whatever chaos was happening around him. Wizard school definitely made your best friend the happiest he’d ever been.

Opening the next letter, which you now guessed judging by Harry’s letter, came from George Weasley, Harry’s friend Ron’s older brother. That was all you knew about him. You let out a gasp once you opened the seal, a small show of tiny fireworks shot out, exploding in balls of reds and oranges across your bedroom before they disappeared as if they’d never been there in the first place.

Slightly frazzled, yet amazed, you cautiously plucked the letter from the envelope and began reading.

Hello, Harry’s Pretty Neighbour.

I hope you enjoyed the show, hopefully it didn’t startle you too much… I’m not exactly sure what muggles are used to… if it did scare you I’m sorry.

Anyway, just wanted to say hi. Promised Harry I wouldn’t spook you, he’s quite protective of you, you know. It’s very sweet.

I don’t blame him, though. If I had a friend as pretty as you I’d be protective too ;)

Don’t break my heart, write back?

Yours truly,

George Weasley x

And that had been the start of it. Two years had passed since you’d discovered the wizarding world and it seemed as though things had simultaneously gotten worse and better. As it turns out, your lifelong best friend was some sort of prophetic hero in the wizard community and on top of that it seemed that there was a war brewing that he would be expected to lead.

Of course, you were completely useless as you don’t possess the ability to perform magic which also means you're at risk of being hate crimed by some classist, wizard, blood supremacists? You weren’t sure. But Harry was worried.

You’d been writing back and forth to a few of Harry’s Hogwarts friends (your friends now too) for a long while now, you’d even gotten a chance to finally meet them when you’d gone with the Dursleys to collect Harry from King’s Cross Station.

You got along best with Hermione seeing as she was raised similarly to yourself and Harry. However, of all of Harry’s school mates, you liked George the most. Everyone could have predicted it really, you’d been writing to each other constantly and the second you’d clapped eyes on each other in the flesh he’d broken out in a run to crush you in a hug. Harry had groaned at the sight of the pair of you, smiling widely at each other, seeming to slot together perfectly. He had to laugh about it now though, if things went well with Ginny he supposed you’d probably end up being his sister-in-law, assuming his predictions of George falling completely in love with you were correct (they were, he knew).

All air of laughter or wizard/muggle romances was gone at the moment however. You and Harry sat alongside each other, your hand holding his loosely between the swings you were sat on, he’d be going into his 5th year at Hogwarts soon, he’d yet to recover from the last. He’d made a friend only for that friend to be killed right in front of him. He’d almost been murdered himself for God’s sake.

“If you don’t feel safe, Haz… maybe, I don’t know? Don’t go back?” You suggested weakly, knowing he’d never do such a thing. As you expected, Harry shook his head and looked at you solemnly.

“Can’t. Not now that he’s back.” With a sigh you squeezed his hand.

“They should be paying you for this, you know,” Harry chuckled then, squeezing your hand in return.

“I’m doing this for you too. To keep you safe.” He admitted and you sighed miserably.

“I wish I could be of more help.” Harry scoffed, his green eyes shining with pure disbelief as he stared at you.

“More help? (Y/n) you must be joking…” he trailed off as you shook your head, you weren’t joking, you hated that you couldn’t help Harry through this, for once you knew there was nothing you could do to improve the situation in any way that would make an impact, “Oi. Look at me,” Harry demanded, no trace of the usual awkward sarcasm to be heard when he spoke.

You let your eyes meet his again and watched how they seemed to soften when he took in how utterly defenceless you looked, “If it hadn’t been for you, the first ten years of my life would’ve been an even worse hell than they already were. You were the only good thing and you’re still the only good thing about being back in this place.”

He watched sadly as your eyes fell to the floor again, “Besides, the sooner we get this mess with Voldemort sorted out, the sooner you and George Weasley can navigate the whole muggle/wizard romance thing.”

At his statement you barked out a laugh and Harry let himself smile too, “Shut up, Potter. S’not like that.”

Harry laughed then too, “Oh it is so like that, (N/n).”

“It so isn’t.” You grumbled, but your little smile confirmed to Harry that it absolutely was like that.

“Okay. Fine, please then do tell, what is going on between you and the infamous George Weasley?” Harry challenged, revelling in the way your cheeks burned with embarrassment. He let out a low chuckle when you shrugged shyly and kicked the stones beneath your feet.

“I don’t know… We write to each other a lot, and I think he’s really interesting and funny and sweet and of course I think he’s fit. But, I don’t know,” you bit your lip as Harry listened to you, he found it quite endearing. “I just don’t see how it would work. I like him, yeah, but…” Harry scoffed again as you trailed off. He hated seeing you feeling so insecure, Harry was clueless about a lot of things, but he knew exactly how much his best friend was worth- more than all the gold in Gringott’s.

“Ok as your best mate, and as someone who is very close with the Weasley family, I’m telling you that he’s mad about you. All he ever does is ask me about you, Fred is completely sick of him. He’s even told Molly about you, which is truly a commitment believe me,” Harry started, growing more content with the more bashful you became, “And didn’t he write to you just before the Yule Ball to tell you that he was going with Katie Bell as a friend but he wanted to tell you just incase you heard it from someone else and he didn’t want you to get the wrong idea?” Finally, you were back to fighting a smile.

“Yeah he did.”

“Well there you go. But seriously he hasn’t dated or even so much as looked at anyone else since he met you. Which I’ll be honest is super annoying for me but you deserve someone who thinks you hung the stars in the sky.”

A mock gasp left your lips and you released his hand to place it over your chest in faux hurt, “You mean to tell me you don’t think I hung the stars in the sky? I’m hurt, Harry. I think I’ll have to rat you out to Mrs. Weasley.”

Harry laughed but the lighthearted atmosphere didn’t last long before Dudley had shown up with his little gang of bullies, all of whom made fun of Harry’s nightmares.

It was then things had taken a turn for the worst, the sky turned black and storm clouds completely blocked out the previously scorching sun. You looked to Harry for answers but he seemed to be seeing something that you couldn’t, all you knew was that it had become unbearably cold, a feeling of misery making a home in your bones as Harry rushed to pull you to your feet.

“Run! Come on!” He shouted, clutching your hand tightly in his and sprinting through the neighbourhood until you, Harry and Dudley found yourselves struggling to catch a breath in a graffiti covered tunnel.

A terrified yelp left your throat as what you’d been running from revealed itself to you.

Several floating, cloaked shadowy figures swooped into the tunnel on both sides, their hands decaying and boney, their presence leaving you with the feeling that you’d never know positively ever again.

Harry had effectively used his body to cage you against the wall of the tunnel, his back pressed firmly against your chest, your own back pressed to the cold concrete wall, his wand was at the ready as the creatures approached rapidly.

“Don’t look at them.” Harry instructed, protecting you first as you watched in horror as one of the creatures seemed to be ripping Dudley’s essence straight out of his body.

It only took Harry a few painfully long seconds to take care of the creature in front of the pair of you, you’d wished you’d taken his advice and buried your head in his shoulder so you wouldn’t see the monstrous creatures before you, yet, you couldn’t seem to tear your eyes away from Dudley.

The rest happened in a blur, Harry had yet to let go of your hand as it (and your entire body) shook violently. Demontors broke even the strongest of wizards, Harry knew that as a muggle who’d never seen a magical creature, other than an owl, you’d react negatively.

“If it makes you feel any better, I used to faint every time I saw a dementor.” You nodded numbly, giving Dudley a side glance of concern while he mumbled incoherently to himself.

“Is he alright?” You questioned meekly, voice shaking. You were still freezing and the all too familiar feeling of uselessness didn’t do anything to help you regain your inner warmth.

Harry nodded, “He will be.”

“The ministry will be after my head for using magic outside of school,” he told you after a few minutes, squeezing your hand lightly for the umpteenth time, “So I’m gonna have to go away for a while. Probably tonight. Eat some chocolate, it should stop the shaking.” He told you, you hadn’t even noticed you’d reached Privet Drive.

“And they won’t-“ your breath got caught in your throat and your eyes filled with fear, “The dementors. They won’t come back, will they?”

Harry shook his head, “No. But come on, we should get you inside before the ministry shows up and tries to obliviate you.” His final words came out as more of a mumble than an actual sentence as he passed a bumbling Dudley over to Petunia and Vernon before steering you down your own driveway.

“You better not have broken her too, boy!” You vaguely registered Vernon’s voice shouting in your and Harry’s direction.

Your parents were away on holiday at the moment, in Spain. They’d wanted you to come but you hadn’t wanted to miss Harry’s visit, so when you shakily managed to open the door the house was completely dark, you weren’t sure at what point night had fallen.

Harry closed the door behind himself and made his way into your kitchen, the boy rifled through your sweet press before his hand finally settled on what he was looking for. A triumphant sort of yell left his lips as he pulled a bar of chocolate out of the cupboard.

While Harry tossed the bar onto the counter and busied himself with boiling the kettle, you stood in the hallway still, completely rigid.

“Come on, (Y/n). Sit down.” He urged gently, not turning around. Wordlessly, you fully entered the kitchen and slid into a chair facing Harry.

“Don’t you have better things to be doing than making me tea?” You wondered, setting your hands on the table and fidgeting with your icy fingers. Obviously, you appreciated Harry’s fussing but with the way he was talking about the ministry earlier you were sure he had more important things to worry about.

Harry only faced you once he was finished making your tea. He carried the hot cup and the previously discarded bar of chocolate over to you, he placed them both on the table before giving you a hard look, “I’m looking after you first. I’ll deal with everything else later.”

“I used to be the one who took care of you.” You said through a sigh, taking a sip of the hot tea and slumping against your seat as you began to heat up on the inside again.

Harry let out a low chuckle, “Oh how the tables have turned.”

“I liked it better the other way.” You complained, munching on a square of chocolate.

“Trust me, so did I,” Harry groaned, standing up and placing a comforting hand on your shoulder, “Don’t worry though, (N/n). Have a sneaking feeling that you’ll be looking after me again soon enough.”

You patted the hand he had clamped on your shoulder in appreciation, “Thank you, though, for looking after me.”

“Course. I better go. I don’t want you getting roped into anything else tonight,” he said with a sad smile and you nodded in understanding, “We probably won’t see each other for a while but I’ll write. Is Astra back from Cecilia's yet?” Celillia is the witch you’d gotten Astra from in the first place, the pair of you had kept in touch and she’d recently offered to try and teach you some basic divination skills, she claimed that, “Being a wizard isn’t exactly a requirement” and you desperately needed something, anything, to make you feel more connected to your friends in the wizarding world. You supposed you’d need to plan a trip to her cottage soon, after tonight you definitely needed some of her wisdom.

“No, not yet. She flew straight there from the burrow so I suppose she’s probably resting,” you informed him distantly, still clutching his hand, “You’ll be careful, won’t you?”

Harry squeezed your shoulder and let out a deep breath, “I’ll try my best. Promise,” with that he lifted his hand from your shoulder and extended his pinky to you, you gladly linked it with your own. Harry noted, very gratefully, that the warmth had now returned to your hands and you’d stopped shaking so violently.

“Send me a letter once Astra gets back, alright? I’ll keep you updated on what’s going on over on my side.” You agreed before walking Harry to the door, hugging him tightly and watching as he approached the Dursley’s front door.

As predicted, Harry, George, Hermione and Cecillia had let you know that the wizarding world was crumbling fast. Admittedly you were worried about your wizard friends, but Cecillia had done a great job of keeping you distracted by keeping you buried under heaps of divination books, tarot cards and crystal guidebooks. As it turns out, though, you had quite the talent for making accurate detailed predictions.

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were descended from a powerful seer,” she’d written to you in awe after you’d managed to predict exactly how a date of hers would go without missing a single detail.

Reading tarot cards quickly became one of your favourite hobbies to indulge in when you weren’t in school. You’d made the mistake of telling George about it in a recent letter, Harry already knew and he also knew that there was no point telling you that he didn’t have a heap of faith in divination. George however was having a field day with the new information.

The older boy teased you at every chance he got, but it was all in good fun as in every letter he sent, you’d find a page that he’d ripped out of his own divination book, the pages would be crinkled and have messy notes scribbled along the margins, with explanations over words that he knew you wouldn’t understand as a muggle. They were actually really helpful. Aside from all the teasing he found it quite endearing that you were trying to get familiar with some form of magic. Even if it was a form of magic wizards tended to ridicule.

He’d been quite worried about you, Harry told him about the dementors and how you’d been quite shaken up after your encounter with them. He’d written to you on a weekly basis, constantly checking in on you, making absolutely sure that no more dementors paid you a visit. He and Harry both kept you up to date with the constant and seemingly never ending rules being imposed upon them by their new headmaster, or headmistress; Delores Umbridge. George also disclosed to you all about his and Fred’s plan to leave Hogwarts and pursue their lifelong dream of opening a joke shop. You had nothing but faith in the twins, really. Your complete faith in them hadn’t stopped you from sending George a handful of crystals that you believed would help his and his shop’s success. He’d teased you relentlessly in each letter since he’d received your package containing citrine, tiger’s eye, amazonite, aventurine and smokey quartz. What he hadn’t mentioned since receiving your little gifts, is that he’d been carrying the five crystals around in their little orange mesh drawstring bag in his pocket everywhere he went. He had to give credit where credit is due and, to be fair to you and your holistic ways, he hadn’t run into any serious obstacles since he started carrying the gems around.

November through June had brought forth a plethora of unfortunate events. You were practically swimming in school work which left you with no time to write to Harry, or even practice tarot. As well as that, you’d been having nightmares, although Cecillia had warned that these dreams could hold some sort of prophesies within them, you highly doubted that though, you weren’t a wizard, only a muggle. Whether prophetic or not, the nightmares plagued you, keeping you up at night or waking you at all hours of the morning.

On one particular morning, you’d awoken with a gasp. Sweat coated your face, soaked your pillow cases and caused your legs to stick to your blankets in a way not even the June heat could've caused. Your heart pounded against your ribcage, tears welled in your eyes, and your body shook as violently as it had the night you’d come face to face with the dementors of Azkaban. The unadulterated fear coursing through your bloodstream suggested that perhaps this bad dream had been something more than simply that.

As fast as you could manage in your panicked state, you dragged your body out of bed and stumbled towards your light switch, flicking it on before haphazardly ripping a sheet out of the refill pad on your desk, grabbing a pen and beginning to scribble down the dream that you could only describe as a warning.

Your laboured breaths stirred Astra from her slumber, the tawny hooted tiredly, hopping out of her cage and fluttering over to your shoulder, settling there as you wrote.

Harry,

I hope this letter reaches you in time. I might sound completely mad but something terrible may be about to happen. I’ve been having these horrific dreams over the last few months, I didn’t tell you because I didn’t want you to worry but Cecillia suspects they’re premonitions and I’m terrified she may be right. I’ve just woken up, it’s around 2am and if I’m lucky, Astra should get this letter to you before 6am…

Onto the dream, you were there and you were asleep, I was standing by your bed, it was a four-poster sort of thing, the room was decorated in mostly red and gold. You woke up panicked, you looked completely overwhelmed and you began shouting about your Godfather Sirius, about how he was in trouble… From then on I watched the day play out. You, Hermoine, Ron, Ginny, a boy with brown hair I’ve never met, I think you called him Neville in my dream, and a blonde girl- Luna I think you called her, you all went to the ministry to rescue Sirius and find some kind of prophecy. Harry you have to listen to me, you mustn’t go, it’s a trick, Voldemort planted it in your head and if you go you’ll only put Sirius in harm’s way. But, knowing you, you’re gonna go anyway… so here’s my advice: keep your eyes open for the witch Bellatrix. Keep Sirius away from the veil and please please please, be careful.

I’m heading to Cecillia’s cottage for the day and maybe even the next couple of days, send Astra there when you find time to write back.

I hope I’m wrong but if I’m not; good luck, Harry. I love you and if you don’t look after yourself the dark lord will be the least of your worries.

Lots of love,

Y/n.

Folding up the letter and placing it in a stray envelope, you addressed it and gently tied it to your loyal owl’s leg. “I’m gonna need you to go as fast as you can to get this to Harry, okay Astra?” She hooted with what you guessed to be determination before she set off, out into the night. Thankfully for you, now that your owl was occupied, you knew Cecillia owned a telephone so you’d have no problems contacting her. While writing to Harry, you’d left out a few details about the dream. You conveniently forget to mention that you’d watched his only remaining family member killed at the hand’s of Bellatrix, it had looked so terrifyingly real that your mind couldn’t have possibly conjured it up all by itself. You also failed to mention hearing Harry’s agonising scream as Sirius fell, the noise was nearly deafening. Seeing Sirius, a man you’d only seen in pictures, die and watching your best friend mourn for him was, well, traumatising. There was no way you’d get a wink of sleep for the remainder of the night, so, you quietly tiptoed downstairs and made a call.

The line rang three times before Cecillia’s voice sounded, chirpy as ever despite the late hour, “Hello?”

“Sorry to call so late,” was all you managed, your voice although shaky was immediately identified by the much older witch.

You could nearly see the soft smile on her youthful face as she spoke, “Ah, Y/n my darling, no worries at all! How is my favourite student doing at half two in the morning?”

“Not well, I’ve had another vision. I think you might’ve been right about the dreams being prophetic,” you told her, willing your voice not to crack as the image of your bad dreams crept into your mind once again.

Cecillia let out a gentle hum, “Shall I apparate over? You don’t sound in the highest of spirits, darling.”

“Yes please,” you answered simply and within seconds Cecillia was standing before you, a worried furrow in her brow and her ashy brown hair disheveled from apparating to you in such a hurry. How could she not? You were, after all, her protégé.

“Oh, darling. You look terribly shaken up, come, come, let’s get you some water,” she fretted, guiding you to your kitchen, magically flicking on the light with her wand and filling up a glass of water, with a few flicks of her wrist the glass had floated over to your usual seat at the table, meanwhile Cecillia had stirred you into the wooden chair adjacent the glass.

Wordlessly, the witch peeled your damp hair away from your face and secured it back with a crocodile clip shaped like a huge golden bumble bee, it’s wings adorned with glittering gems. The bee sat comfortably in your hair as Cecillia finally sat down beside you, she made herself comfortable on the kitchen chair, crossing one leg over the other, resting her elbow on the table and using it to prop her cheek up. Her wide green eyes stared at you sympathetically, watching intently as you sipped your water.

“I’m assuming your loyal familiar is sleeping soundly?” She wondered, referring to Astra. You shook your head, simultaneously swallowing a gulp of water before responding verbally.

“I sent her with a letter to Harry, it was more of a warning really,” Cecillia nodded her head, signalling you to go on, “I dreamt of Harry and his friends going to the Ministry of Magic to rescue Sirius Black, but it was a trap. When they got there they were ambushed by dark wizards and Sirius well he…” you trailed off, eyes growing distant and unfocused when the sight of the man being murdered reentered your mind’s eye. A gentle hand on your shoulder pulled you back to the present.

“This one was far worse than the others then?”

You nodded, “It didn’t feel like a dream, cecillia. It was like I was actually standing there but I couldn’t do anything to help though… as per usual,” you muttered bitterly, receiving a harsh squeeze to your shoulder in response.

Cecillia fixed you with a maternal glare, “None of that! You potentially saved a life tonight. And, as I effortlessly predicted since the moment I met you, you’ve got the magical gift of sight,” her hard look melted into something more forgiving as she spoke, “You’re much more than just a muggle. You may have been an extremely late bloomer, but, you’re a witch and a seer at that. A peculiar case indeed, although in the wizarding world stranger things have happened,” the old witch told you proudly, eyes shining with glee as your own filled with confusion.

“How do we know the dream will even come true?” You questioned.

Cecillia simply shrugged and offered you a cheeky grin, “I trust your feelings, darling.”

True to your initial feeling, you hadn’t gotten a wink of sleep, you knew you wouldn’t be able to rest until you found out whether or not your dream had come to fruition. Cecillia remained by your side throughout the night, eventually the sun had risen and your parents descended down the stairs, neither of them were surprised to see Cecillia sitting at the kitchen table. They saw her as an odd woman, very kind and perfectly lovely, but odd. You’d told them that she owned an animal sanctuary and that you’d been volunteering with her, it wasn’t too far fetched really, she had given you an owl after all, not to mention the amount of cats that hung around her cottage.

She explained to your parents that she needed your help at ‘the sanctuary’ for the next few days and that she’d drop you home once the work was finished. It hadn’t been a problem, so you traveled to Cecillia’s cottage after getting dressed and packing an overnight bag (full to the brim with tarot decks and only some clothes).

It was nearly 8 in the evening when Cecillia sauntered into her living room, where you were sitting, sporting a knowing grin, she held a piece of parchment in one hand and an unopened envelope in the other.

Jovially, she plopped herself down beside you, obviously doing her very best to contain a huge grin from forming on her face. Wordlessly, she placed the envelope on your lap with a mere, “For you.”

On the envelope you could tell by the handwriting that it had come from Harry. This was definitely a make or break moment for you. The contents of this letter would either confirm that you did in fact have magic, or, they would be responsible for causing you to experience a seismic amount of embarrassment. Swallowing the lump in your throat you tore the envelope open, freeing the letter and daring to read what was inside.

Dear Y/n,

Your dream was right. And that advice you gave about keeping an eye on Sirius? It saved his life. I suppose I’m mostly writing to say thank you. I’ve got some updates for you too: firstly, it’s finally been confirmed that Voldemort is back so my name is cleared. Secondly, it turns out that Remus and Cecillia are old friends, she contacted him earlier today about your vision and he and Sirius haven’t shut up about how impressive it is. I have a feeling you might be hearing from them soon, The Order now more than ever is in need of a secret weapon and genuine seers are hard to come by. I hate to involve you in this, it’ll probably be dangerous and you know I don’t want to see you hurt, or worse. But having said that, I’m glad we’re in this together now.

Astra got here in good time, by the way, she landed on my window just after I woke up from my vision of Sirius, it was actually quite freaky. I’m taking good care of her so don’t worry, she should be back to you at some point tomorrow.

Hermoine and Ron say hi too. I’m sure you’ll be hearing from George soon, seeing as he and Fred are in the Order… On that note I better get going.

Thank you again for the warning.

See you soon,

Love, Harry.

A bemused smile spread across your lips as you scanned the page, thankful to have finally made a significant difference in Harry’s life. Cecillia was grinning like a cheshire cat beside you, pride shimmering in her emerald eyes. She bumped her arm against yours playfully when you let the letter fall to your lap, “An old friend of mine will be stopping by in a short while. It seems he’d like to get you trained up in some defence against the dark arts.” She told you, still grinning.

“Defence against the dark arts?” You wondered out loud, you were sure you’d heard Harry mention those words to you before, however, the memories were fuzzy.

“Magic to keep you safe from darker magic, the likes of which the Dark Lord and his Death Eaters rely,” she explained darkly. Just then, a loud bang erupted from her open stone fireplace, a bubble of green dissipated as two men stepped less than gracefully onto Cecillia’s faux-fur rug. You recognised them both from your vision. They were Sirius Black and, if you were to take an educated guess, Remus Lupin.

Cecillia wasted no time before she was giddily jumping from her seat to greet the pair who had just appeared in her sitting room.

“Remus! Oh, how wonderful to see you!” She all but squealed, pulling the tall man into a hug and ruffling his already messy hair.

He reciprocated the hug with a gentle chuckle, “It’s nice to see you again, Cece. It’s been far too long,” he pulled away and the pair of them shared a fond smile before simultaneously looking to Sirius. “I trust you remember Sirius?” Lupin asked, almost rhetorically.

Sirius let out a booming laugh at that, “She could never forget me, now could you, Cece?” Cecillia rolled her eyes, and with a look of endearment nearly tackled Sirius into an embrace.

Seeing the woman who was essentially your magical mentor so overjoyed was lovely, Cecillia was jolly at the best of times but you’d never seen her quite like this. Her happiness added to your sense of helpfulness, Sirius Black was obviously important to more than just Harry, if the smile on the free-spirited witches face was anything to go by. Although you were ecstatic for the three witches and wizards before you, you couldn’t help but feel like you were imposing on an intimate reunion.

Awkwardly you cleared your throat, successfully bringing the trio’s attention onto you as you stood by the sofa, smiling unsurely. If it was even possible, all three of their smiles broadened when their gazes landed on you.

“Am I right in assuming that this is my guardian angel?” Sirius asked, separating from Cecillia.

Cecillia nodded, filled with pride, “And isn’t she just the loveliest guardian angel you’ve ever seen?” She gushed, half seriously.

You offered Sirius a bashful smile, along with a nod of greeting, “I’m glad to see you’re alright,” you told him.

His grin stayed fixed in place but he raised a single eyebrow in confusion, “Glad? And yet you’ve never met me before now…” his tone was laced with inquisition, as if he wanted to figure out what ulterior motive you could possibly have for caring about a stranger you’d only ever seen in a dream.

It didn’t take a seer or a psychic to see what Sirius was after, so you simply answered him truthfully, “No, we’ve never met, but you’re still a person, I watched that woman kill you, it was horrible, nobody deserves that. As well as that; I know how much you mean to Harry and what sort of best friend would I be if I didn’t try to help him keep his last family member safe?” Sirius nodded approvingly at your reply, looking between Remus and Cecillia.

“She remind you of anyone?” The black haired man asked in a low chuckle, Remus snickered and Cecillia bit back a grin.

The witch made her way back to your side and wrapped an arm around your shoulder, jostling you ever so slightly when she noticed your vaguely worried expression, “Don’t worry, darling, you just remind us of one of our most treasured school friends, I promise I will tell you all about it later. But for now, I believe Sirius was about to thank you for saving his life?” She prompted, waiting expectantly.

Sirius cleared his throat and straightened his posture before outstretching his arm, offering you his hand which you took firmly in your own. His voice was steady, strong and genuine when he spoke, “I am truly thankful for what you did for not only me but Harry today. I’m extremely proud of my godson for aligning himself with such a strong, powerful and wonderfully loyal young lady.”

“How sweet,” Cecillia cooed, before guiding you to the kitchen, “Come now, boys, kettles on- we have a lot to discuss!” She called over her shoulder.

There certainly had been a lot to discuss. The Order of the Phoenix thought having a seer at their disposal would be extremely beneficial in the upcoming war, the issue was; you are not yet of age and some members of the group didn’t wish to involve a child in their battle. Sirius, Remus and Cecillia made it abundantly clear that if you desired to join the Order, you were more than welcome but you would be welcomed under certain conditions. Those conditions being that your membership be kept under wraps and not disclosed to any muggles, meaning your parents.

“To keep them safe and to give you an escape route if things get too messy, even with the level of magic you’ll have gained by the time the war is in full swing, as a muggle born you’ll most likely need to flee quickly,” Remus explained, though it didn’t make much sense.

“Wouldn’t it be easier to run if my parents knew what we were running from? They’re open minded people, I’m sure they’d understand,” you attempted to reason, the trio but exchanged yet another loaded look with each other.

Cecillia placed a gentle hand on your shoulder, “We have a contingency plan in place, darling. Nothing you need to worry about for right now,” she reassured, easing your nerves a tad. “You trust me don’t you?” She followed up, her tone slightly stonier, more serious. You nodded your head certainly in response, there was no doubt about it; you trusted the witch with your life. “Then,” she began again, a somewhat chastising look on her face, “Trust that I will not allow a single hair on your head to be harmed.” This rule also extended to wizards not in the Order, which meant that when in the magical world, you were to air on the side of extreme caution.

Relating to that, another condition was that, at all times in the magical world, you were to be accompanied by an of age member of the Order. According to Sirius, who your were growing to like more by the second, he was going to arrange for a member of the Order to bring you to Diagon Alley in the morning to get you a wand. The prospect of having a wand of your own was terribly exciting, once again though, you found yourself wondering if you had it in you to properly wield one, or wield one at all for that matter. You were too exhausted to fret for too long, so the thoughts about magic levels and your own capabilities were only fleeting. Once all of the serious chat dissipated into friendly chatter, you managed to slip away from the table at which you were all sat. Making your way back to the sitting room, you tucked yourself into the corner seat of Cecillia’s old and very comfortable sofa, pulled your knees against your chest, wrapped your arms around them and rested your cheek against your knee. Slowly and deeply, you began to breathe in and out, fiddling with the amazonite bracelet that adorned your wrist in order to quell your ever growing anxiety. For a few sweet minutes you indulged in the calm silence, meditating peacefully in your comfy seat until a soft knock sounded from the doorway. When your eyes fluttered open they were met with the image of Sirius Black, leaning casually against the frame of the door, a hand plunged deep into his trouser pocket and another flipping a stray tarot card between his fingers. His eyes were focused on yours as he spoke, “I hope I’m not interrupting.”

You shook your head and patted the seat beside you, “‘Course not, come sit.”

The man chuckled but obliged, settling in the spot beside you and offering you the card he’d previously been fiddling with.

“The ten of swords,” you identified easily, “I assume you’ve been feeling quite overwhelmed if this card found its way to you.”

Sirius hummed, “CeCe tells me that you’ve a penchant for card reading. I was rubbish at divination back at Hogwarts, only took it because I thought it’d be easy but I could never get my head around it,” he reminisced, an airy laugh slipping from his lips.

“If you don’t mind me asking, who were you all talking about earlier when you asked if I reminded Cecilia and Remus of anyone?” He let out a deep sigh before fixing you with a soft smile.

“An old school friend of ours, she was more than a friend to me, but that’s a story for another time,” he started, staring out into the empty space before him a melancholy grin on his lips, “She was fiercely loyal to her friends, if she wanted to help there was absolutely nothing that would stop her from doing so. I know I don’t know you very well, but from what I heard today and the way in which you’ve been described to me by Harry; I can see her in you,” he finished, bumping his shoulder with yours and forcing a happy smile onto your lips which mirrored Sirius’.

“What’s her name?” You asked.

“Her name was Marlene,” Sirius answered.

Your heart dropped with his use of past tense, “Was?”

Sirius bowed his head slightly and began to twist the rings that adorned his slender fingers, “She was killed during the first war,” he told you, making eye contact once again, a grave expression on his face as he continued, “I saw your apprehension earlier when we brought up the topic of secrecy, but you must understand that during the first war we lost so many who were dear to us, keeping you in our back pocket will ensure that you aren’t harmed in the face of this war, if any dark wizards hear so much of a whisper of a muggleborn seer they will stop at nothing to eliminate you,” he paused for a brief second, never breaking eye contact, the gravity of the situation heavy on your chest your fingers absentmindedly found your amazonite bracelet once again. Your movements were halted when Sirius placed his large hand over yours, squeezing it warmly while staring at you determinedly, “You saved my life today, Y/n. So believe me when I tell you that I will stop at nothing to keep you safe,” he promised and you squeezed his hand in return.

“I know,” he smiled as he watched your eyes return to the ten of swords and your grin broadened with the sort of mischief he’d only ever seen in four people; James Potter, Marlene McKinnon and Fred and George Weasley. “I have a prediction for you.”

Sirius entertained you fondly, a mischievous air that reminded him of when he was your age surrounding the pair of you, “By all means, do tell.”

“I predict,” you paused for emphasis, “that we are going to be very good friends.”

Sirius let out a booming laugh of which the volume he couldn’t control, “That is a prediction I truly hope will come to fruition.”

“Oh no, this is a duo that spells trouble,” Cecillia giggled to Remus as they entered the sitting room.

Remus looked between you and Sirius with a grin, “With a mentor like you, Cece, I’m not surprised Y/n has a taste for mischief,” the ruffled wizard teased, receiving a gentle elbow to the ribs from your mentor.

“Oi, if you’re going to blame my beloved girl’s mischief on anyone you better blame it on a certain Weasley twin,” she said, wiggling her eyebrows and causing the boys to smile giddily like teenagers.

Sirius bumped your shoulder again, this time with a faux-scandalised smile, “A Weasley twin, eh? Come on then, which one?” You blushed heavily and cleared your throat in an attempt to alleviate the embarrassment filling your being.

“He’s just a friend!”

“Mhm. A friend that sends her annotated pages from his divination text book,” Cecillia sang and Sirius snickered.

“Whichever one it is must be quite taken with you if you made him actually crack open a textbook.”

“Annotations are quite intimate,” Remus half teased although you could see he believed what he’d just said, “I bet it’s George,” he directed the bet at Sirius who carefully observed the way you bit your lip and bashfully looked towards the wooden floor.

“I think you’re right, moony. Now!” He stood suddenly and pointed a finger at Remus expectantly, “We best get going and arrange Y/n’s accomplice for tomorrow’s field trip,” he wiggled his eyebrows before turning his head to face you again, he shot you a wink and you couldn’t stop the airy laugh that left your mouth at his lighthearted antics.

Remus gave Cecillia a one armed hug, “we’ll be seeing you both tomorrow then, it was lovely to meet you, Y/n, perhaps next time Sirius will allow me to get a word in,” he chuckled and Sirius responded by throwing his arm around your shoulder.

“I better get off, this husband of mine is growing jealous,” he told you in a teasingly hushed whisper.

Your eyes widened and you looked between the two men, “You two are married?”

A love struck smile took over both of their faces which immediately gave you your answer. “We’re engaged,” Sirius clarified before pulling you into a proper hug, “Get a good night's sleep, we’ll be sending an order member to collect you early tomorrow morning so you can be in and out of Olivander’s before a crowd can build,” he told you while giving you an affectionate squeeze, you could’ve laughed when you realised that it felt like you’d known Sirius forever but you also could’ve cried when you relived the image of him losing his life and realised that just because it was over and prevented didn't mean it hadn’t still transpired in your mind’s eye, you didn’t let that show on your face though.

“I’ll make sure I’m well rested,” you promised.

With that, Sirius bid Cecillia goodbye, and he and Remus left the way they’d came.

The rest of the night had been spent with Cecillia telling you story after story about her school days and the trouble she’d caused with Sirius, Remus, James and Lily Potter, Harry’s parents, and another boy who she only referred to as “the rat”. Though the tone of the stories were completely lighthearted, they weighed on your chest with a sense of such tragedy. A huge majority of their friends were killed young because of the war, a war that was now waging once again. It led you to wonder who’d be lost to this one, if perhaps you’d be on the list of names that Harry or Cecillia or George would speak about fondly with a dense undertone of sorrow in the years after the second war had long since been won. It was a risk you were willing to take though, the notion of fighting for a deserving cause filled you with a sense of purpose, a purpose you’d been searching for for years. More than that, you felt important. You were needed. An asset. You would actually be of some help.

True to your word, you’d been getting a good night’s rest. The bed in Cecillia’s spare room was the comfiest thing you’d ever come across, though, as you began to stir from your deep slumber you couldn’t recall the empty side of the double bed being quite so dipped.

Slowly and begrudgingly, you cracked your eyes open to see Cecillia smiling tiredly at you in the light of dawn, “Morning, darling. Sorry about the early start, I’ve made you some tea,” she greeted quietly so as to not disturb the peace of the early morning. She held two ceramic mugs, one in each hand and passed you the steaming cup that was hand painted green, keeping the brown one for herself. Tiredly, you patted the spot beside you and pulled the quilt to the side, inviting the witch into the warm bed. She happily slid in, pulling the quilt over her and chuckling quietly when you dropped your head onto her robed shoulder and began to sip the tea she’d made. Cecillia rested her head against yours and sipped on her own tea.

“Are you excited for today?” She asked and you hummed.

“I’m having mixed emotions,” you stated, “I’m excited to see everything, but I’m sort of nervous that I won’t have enough magic to even get a wand,” Comfort spread through your chest when Cecillia pressed her lips to the crown of your head.

“The wonderful thing about wands, lovely, is that the wand picks the wizard,” she began, “so whatever wand you end up with will accentuate the level of magic inside you. Its power will grow as yours does and you’ll soon come to realise that you couldn’t imagine wielding anything else,” her voice was wistful and her eyes shined with wonder as she recalled how it felt to bond to a wand.

“What do you think mine will be like?” You wondered, excitement awakening in you thanks to Cecillia’s encouraging words.

The witch took an exaggerated slurp of her tea before answering, “Something curious,” was all she said.

“Insightful,” you murmured and she shrugged unapologetically, her chaotic energy exuding now that she’d started to wake up fully. “What time is it anyway?”

“Half six, your chaperone should be arriving at seven and Olivander’s opens at eight,” she told you before shimmying out of bed, you whined in the absence of your head rest. “You better get dressed. Wear something nice, rumour has it that your tag along is quite the eligible bachelor,” she wiggled her eyebrows and all but floated out of the spare room. It was practically your room by now though, over the years since you’d gotten Astra and met Cecillia you’d stayed in the room on countless occasions. Cecillia embodied something that was something between a second mother, a spiritual mentor, a teasing older sister and a slightly kooky aunt.

“Oh? So do you reckon I should brush my hair then?” You jokingly called out after her only to receive a harsh scoff.

“Absolutely not! Don’t be desperate!” You barked out a laugh at her response, shaking your head and getting ready for the day ahead.

You were just about finished getting ready when a familiar bang sounded from the sitting room. Taking a deep breath, you gave yourself one last look over in the mirror, happy with the outfit you’d chosen, you made your way towards the sitting room to come face to face with your surprise chaperone for the day.

When you shuffled into the sitting room, a smile immediately stretched across your lips upon seeing who had been appointed to stick by your side for the day, “George!” His name left your mouth in a squeal that would’ve been embarrassing had you not been so excited to see him. It’d been upwards of a year since the last time you’d seen George in the flesh and although you’d seen each other in photos and written to each other at a rate that was almost excessive, the prospect of spending time together in person was, for lack of a better word; magical.

George drew his attention away from the framed pictures that lined Cecillia’s fireplace to see you standing in the doorway, looking as bright as the newly risen sun and sporting a smile that he couldn’t quite put into words how it made him feel. It only took a second before his own cheek splitting smile grew on his face, and with it left his hopes of impressing you with his cool and collected attitude. You hadn’t given him too much time to dwell on his ruined cool guy facade as you all but threw yourself into his arms. The red head let out an endearing laugh, catching you in his toned arms, wrapping them tightly around your torso. A scarlet blush rising on his ears when he felt your smile against his neck. “Hello to you too,” he chuckled against your ear and you pulled back enough to look at him, your arms still secure around his shoulders.

“Sorry,” you started, the smile that still adorned your lips telling him that you weren’t all that sorry at all, “Hi,” you greeted, bashfully pulling your arms away from him.

The sitting room was quiet for a moment as the pair of you only stared at each other, would it be too much to tell him that you’ve missed him? You didn’t want to come on too strong after such a long time apart, you’d already tackled him into a hug within the first five seconds, but with that came your next internal question of; did you really want to keep this boy on his toes?

George, having already discarded his notion of acting nonchalant with you, bet you to the punch. He rubbed the back of his neck and flicked his gaze to the floor before bringing it back to you, “I’ve missed you.”

A giggle left your lips before you could think about choking it down, you nodded your head, bouncing slightly on the balls of your feet, “Yeah, I’ve missed you too. Sorry I haven’t written, Astra is still with Harry.”

George gave you a grin, “No worries, darling. Heard you’ve been a very busy little psychic lately.”

Darling, you mused internally, the nickname echoing through your head and causing your heart to somersault in a way you’d never really felt before.

“Oh how sweet,” Cecillia sang from the doorway, a wicked grin on her face as she took in the two hopeless blushing messes, staring doe-eyed at each other in the middle of her living room. “I hate to break up the reunion, my dears, but the pair of you really should get going,” she instructed, strutting up to you and holding a cloth pouch in your direction, “Sirius left you some spending money, it’s different than the money you usually use but I’m sure George will have no problem helping you out,” Cecillia shot the boy a wink and he nodded, once again growing bashful.

“Now,” she grew serious, directing her words at George and making him slightly intimidated with her strong eye contact, “You are to be extremely careful. You are not to mention that Y/n is a seer and you are not to draw any attention to the fact that she is a muggleborn, if Mr. Olivander asks, she’s a half-blood who's been living in the states and that’s why she doesn’t have a wand,” you wore a confused expression, George nodded in complete understanding, “Did Sirius give you the list?”

George nodded once again, pulling a folded piece of parchment out of the back pocket of his slightly baggy denim jeans, “May I take a look?” Cecillia asked, already snatching the parchment from George’s long fingers and unfolding the sheet and reading it aloud, “Alright! A wand… seriously? He used a whole page of parchment just to write one thing?” She grumbled, stomping over to the nearest side table, leaning down and began to scribble on the parchment. You looked to George as she wrote, “Why do you have to say I’m from the States?” You asked quietly and George leaned down slightly to be closer to your ear.

“Witches and wizards in America don’t get wands until they’re of age, we get them here when we’re eleven,” just as he was finished offering his explanation, Cecillia walked back over, a hard look on her face that you weren’t used to seeing, though it seemed that the look was reserved for George.

Silently she handed him the parchment before looking to you, hard look dissolving back into her usual playful expression, “Have fun, lovely.” She then turned to George again, apparently having had enough of trying to intimidate the poor boy, she shot him a smile, “You’ll be taking the floo to Diagon Alley, my fireplace is big enough to take the both of you at once,” she handed George a pouch of what looked like green powder, “George knows what to do, now, not to sound like a broken record but do stay safe and have fun,” she finished, ushering the pair of you into her fireplace. You couldn’t lie, it was quite strange, you supposed you should get used to things coming across as strange, you were about to be exposed to the magical wizarding world for the first time after all. In the fireplace, you stood shoulder to shoulder with George, noticing the nervous look on your face, he slid his hand into yours gently. When you looked at him, he kept his face focused on his feet, “Ready, Y/n?” Taking a deep breath you nodded shakily.

“Ready, George.”

At your words, George slammed the green powder onto the ground and shouted, “Diagon Alley!”

You were sure you were going to be sick. Whatever the powder was, it had you spinning at a pace you didn’t know was possible, you had screwed your eyes shut and you were almost certain that you could feel yourself physically moving. It was only when George tugged on your hand that you opened your eyes to see that your surroundings had actually changed. “It’s horrible the first time, but you get used to it,” George said, pulling you by your still intertwined hands onto the cobbled street. The dizziness died down after only a few seconds out in the fresh air, the added sensation of George’s thumb rubbing soothing circles against your hand seemed to do the trick in settling you completely as you took in the street ahead of you. It was dazzling, really. A long cobbled street, lined with shops that looked like they were plucked straight out of a fairytale. As planned, the streets were fairly empty in the early morning as George led you down the path towards the shop where you’d hopefully get your wand. The name “Olivanders” was written above both windows of the dark shop, the words “makers of fine wands since 382 B.C.” were to be seen just above the door. Excitement had completely overridden your nerves and you practically skipped towards the door, George followed casually behind you, his hands tucked into his pockets and a fond smile on his lips.

“I suppose you’re excited then?” He asked teasingly and you didn’t bother trying to hide your obvious childlike wonder as you waited for him to catch up with you.

“It probably seems silly to you, but this morning Cecillia told me all about when she got her wand and it sounded so wonderful,” you told him, smiling when he bumped his shoulder against yours.

“I don’t think it’s silly, I still get giddy thinking about the time Fred and I got wands of our own,” he pushed the door open and motioned for you to step inside, slowly you walked into the empty shop. It was dark and somewhat dingy but there was something very mystically inclining about it, you could feel the energy and it was utterly exhilarating.

“Wow,” you breathed out, spinning where you stood, gazing at the boxes upon boxes that lined the shelves.

Only a minute passed before an old man stumbled to the front of the shop, smiling at the pair of you from behind the counter, “Ah, Mr. Weasley, it’s good to see you, it’s been some time. What can I do for you this morning? I see you’ve brought a friend,” the older wizard greeted and you smiled in response.

“I’m looking for a wand. I’ve been living in the states for the past few years but I just moved home,” you lied easily, George couldn’t help but smirk, what he’d give to have had you around for some of his and Fred’s pranks at Hogwarts.

The old man nodded in understanding, his eyes scanned you, his eyes were scrutinising and you fought the urge to squirm under his gaze, “Interesting. One moment please,” he said, murmuring to himself as he searched the isles for what he was looking for. A small “aha” sounded from within the isles, he was back in front of you within seconds, an open rectangular box in his hand. It was absolutely gorgeous, it resembled a raw tree branch, wood spiralling up its expanse until it stopped at the top, cutting off in a jagged, dull edge. He must’ve noticed how your jaw dropped, how could he not? He hadn’t been able to take his eyes off you since you’d wandered into his shop. He was an old wizard, but he wasn’t naive, he was well aware you weren’t returning from America, he could sense an energy in you that he hadn’t come in contact with in a long time. “Curious, isn’t it?” He prompted you, causing you to let out an airy laugh. Cecillia was going to tease you big time when you got back to her cabin.

“It’s lovely, what is it?” He offered you the box expectantly and you hesitantly picked up the wand with as much care as you possibly could. It was cool against your skin and was heavier than you’d imagined it would be.

“Thirteen inch, oak; cut from the base of a tree, which at the time, was almost six hundred years old,” he explained, watching happily as you ran your fingers along the wands several ridges,”With a phoenix feather core, quite a rare piece indeed. Unfortunately, this particular wand has been extremely difficult to match to a witch. But something tells me that you might be just the witch for the job,” he held your gaze and you once again got the feeling that he knew something he shouldn’t, “Go on, then. Give it a wave,” he prompted and you looked to George for further encouragement. George laughed at your lost expression, pulling his own wand out and pointing it towards the now empty box on the counter, “Like this, love,” he demonstrated, moving his wrist in a semi-circle motion, making the box levitate off the counter.

Another pet name. You ignored the butterflies in your stomach in favour of clearing your throat, squaring your shoulders and pointing your wand at the same box George had just made float, which was now settled back against the counter. Imitating the boy beside you, you moved your wrist in a swift semi-circle. Suddenly, a golden light poured from the tip of the wand and warm air surrounded you, gently blowing your hair back and forcing a laugh of disbelief to leave your lips. George stood wide eyed beside you, his lips parted slightly. He was amazed really, he went through five wands before he found the one that fit him, yet you’d found yours on the first try, and he had to admit; you looked glorious doing it.

After paying for your wand, you exited the shop, looking around George’s side at the list he was holding. From what you could make out, Cecillia had added a number of items to the originally very short list; 1) a wand, 2) a pendulum (crystal of the ladies choice), 3) crystals: labradorite, lapis lazuli & azurite, 4) mugwort, 5) new tarot deck (again, whatever she wants Sirius can afford it ;)).

“Suppose our next stop is the divination shop,” George said, mostly to himself but gave you a mischievous smile, “If we hurry up and get our shopping done fast we could probably get a butterbeer in before we rejoin the rest of the Order,” he sang, grazing his hand against yours as you walked side by side.

“Beer? You seriously want to drink beer at half eight in the morning?” You asked him, your eyebrow raised and he replied with an exaggerated roll of his eyes and draped his arm around your shoulder, pulling you close against his side and once again leaning his head down so his lips were level with your eye.

“No, you git,” he began with a laugh, “It’s not really beer, it’s pretty sweet; most wizards love it.”

You hummed in acknowledgment, “Sounds nice,” you told him absently, preoccupied with all the intriguing shops that surrounded you. George’s arm remained wrapped around your shoulder as you strolled further into Diagon Alley, seemingly uninterested in his offer for a butterbeer. The pair of you got what you needed from the shop and, since it hadn’t taken long, you decided to take George up on his drinks offer. You noticed that he seemed a little bit crestfallen since your noncommittal answer earlier.

“Hey,” you said, bumping your arm against his.

“Hello,” he replied, returning the gesture.

“So… d’you wanna go get one of those beer things that you were talking about earlier?” You asked nervously, your lip between your teeth. For all you knew, asking someone to grab a butterbeer in the wizarding world was the muggle equivalent to proposing.

George flashed you a grin that was almost childlike, it was mesmerising, so sweet and pure and you almost wished you’d brought your camera to take a picture of it. “I thought you’d never ask.”

With a giggle you let him grab your hand and lead you excitedly towards a building that had “The Leaky Cauldron” written above the door. When you got inside, George led you to a small round table with two chairs and you both sat down opposite each other. As casually as you could, you rested your elbow against the table and let your cheek rest against your fist, for a solid few minutes, while George ordered, you curiously looked around the pub until your gaze finally rested on George who was already looking at you with a soft smile, “Having fun?” He asked, genuinely curious.

You nodded your head, “Mhm, are you? I’m sure getting up at the crack of dawn to take me shopping isn’t something someone like you would usually like to do for fun,” you said, becoming slightly self conscious when you realised that he probably wasn’t enjoying the morning as much as you were. This was all normal for him, you’d nearly forgotten.

George gave you a perplexed look, “Course I’m having fun, love. But, what do you mean someone like me?”

You shrugged, once again pushing down the butterflies that arose in your stomach from the pet name, “I dunno, you’re just- you’re mischievous and fun and… I don’t know, shopping for stuff with me doesn’t seem like it’s something you’d want to do. I just hope Sirius didn’t force you into it,” you admitted shyly, smiling gratefully at the waiter when he placed the mugs of golden liquid on the table.

George chewed on his bottom lip for a second before he shook his head, “He didn’t force me. I sort of, well, I sort of forced him to let me take you. He wanted Professor Lupin to do it but I…” he let out an exaggerated sigh before giving you a smile, “I wanted to spend time with you,” he confessed sweetly, watching happily as a smile formed on your lips and you tried to hide it in the rim of your butterbeer. He laughed when your face lit up once the liquid hit your lips, “Like it?”

“This stuff is amazing,” you almost shouted, taking another large sip from the drink, “No wonder you all love it so much.”

George snickered, “Just in case it wasn’t clear; I’m having a lot of fun with you,” he said all too casually, taking a sip of his drink.

“Where to now?” You wondered, after you’d finished your drinks and set off back towards the floo network.

George shot you a cheeky look and wiggled his eyebrows, “I’m taking you back to headquarters.”

“Sounds ominous,” you commented, following him into the fireplace, nervously.

“D’you want a tip?” George asked out of the blue and you looked up at him expectantly, nodding. “The dizziness isn’t as bad if you keep your eyes open,” he whispered, taking your hand once again and throwing down the same green powder from earlier and shouting a new location that you hadn’t heard before. You cringed as the world began to spin, listening to George’s advice hadn’t helped much as the transportation was just as awful as it had been the first time. Unbeknownst to you, you were squeezing George’s hand like your life depended on it, George’s thumb had resumed brushing circles around your hand in response, the harsh squeezing didn’t bother him at all, not when it was you doing the squeezing. Just like earlier, George led you out of the fireplace and into the unfamiliar sitting room. Though the room was completely unfamiliar it was full of faces you immediately recognised, one face in particular standing out above all the rest.

In a second you’d dropped not only George’s hand, but all of your shopping bags to the floor carelessly and hurled yourself towards the boy who had already begun rushing towards you the second he caught sight of you appearing in the fireplace. Your bodies collided with so much force that you nearly sent each other tumbling to the ground, laughter sounded from both of you as you swayed the other, almost roughly, the way you always did when reuniting after an extended period of time.

“Glad to see you in one piece, Harry,” you told him with a cheeky smile on your lips, opting not to call him Haz in front of all of his wizard friends lest they tease him, not to mention you’d become quite possessive of the nickname, you wouldn’t be too pleased if anyone else started adopting it. Not that you’d ever admit that out loud.

“Yeah, you too,” his smile was as wide as could be when he shook his head, “I can’t believe you’re actually here.”

“Do you want me to pinch you?” You teased, jokingly taking his cheek between your thumb and your pointer, giving the skin between them a gentle squeeze. Harry swatted your hand away with a low chuckle and unraveled his arms from around you.

“Alright, you two, if you’re ready we have some matters we need to discuss with our newest member,” Sirius’ voice sounded from behind you, a knowing look on his face as he watched Harry sneakily pinch your arm in retaliation. He had to fight the urge he felt to reminisce on his old school days; when he’d purposely annoy James, Remus or Peter and receive the exact same mockingly vengeful look that you’d just given Harry.

“I’ll bring your things to the kitchen,” George announced, reminding you of his presence before he walked rather quickly out of the room, bags clutched in his hands.

Harry snorted out a laugh when Sirius followed George out of the room, leaving the both of you alone. Harry wiggled his eyebrows and did his best to make his voice take on a sultry tone, “he’s bringing your things to the kitchen.”

“Shut your mouth, Potter,” you replied, pinching his cheek for the second time and tossing your arm around his shoulder, him doing the same as he led you to what you assumed was the kitchen.

“Do I have your permission to open my mouth to tell you something,” Harry asked lightly, stopping so you were both standing outside a closed wooden door.

“I’ll allow it,” you answered, smiling softly at your best friend.

Harry grinned, “I missed you.”

“I missed you too, Haz,” the boy groaned at the name but made no further comment, he pushed the wooden door open and walked inside.

The room held a long table where many adults were sat, chatting in hushed whispers when you entered the room, some of whom you recognised and some you didn’t. Mrs. Weasley was fluttering about the table, filling people’s tea cups before she spotted you. The woman, who you’d only ever met briefly at King’s Cross station one year, rushed over to you and greeted you warmly, “Hello, dear! Come, come sit down!” She ushered you to a vacant chair beside George and across from Fred, Harry took the seat on your other side. “I trust you got everything you needed from Diagon Alley? I hope that son of mine didn’t cause any trouble for you,” you gave her a friendly smile and shook your head.

“Yes, we were able to find what we needed and George was very helpful,” Mrs. Weasley, seemingly satisfied with your answer, offered a gentle smile to you and George. She then pushed a cup of tea towards you before sitting down herself.

Beneath the table George bumped his knee lightly against yours, but didn’t break from his conversation with his twin as he left his knee pressed against yours. You didn’t draw attention to it either, simply letting your knee relax against his as the witches and wizards at the long table grew quiet in favour of staring at you wordlessly.

“I’m sure you’ve all heard the news of the seer we’ve acquired,” Sirius’ commanding voice broke the silence as he stood up from his chair, and placed his palms against the table, “I’ve brought her here today so that we may discuss proceedings to ensure her safety.”

“Yes,” a toneless drawl, drawn out nasally from the end of the table drew your attention to a black haired man at the opposite end of the table, “and what of Mr. Potter’s presence?” He asked, almost menacingly. Right off the bat, you didn’t like the greasy haired man. He was rigid and his face sported a permanent snarl and from across the table you could already tell; he wasn’t on your side.

“She’s my best friend, I’m here to make sure she’s not going to be put in any unnecessary danger,” Harry told the man shortly, in a tone that he’d more than likely perfected after having spoken to the man previously.

“As touching as that may be,” the older man snarled, “you are not a member of the Order.”

“Oh, enough, Serverus,” Sirius scoffed, pulling his hand down his face in exasperation before he let his eyes settle on Harry, “Perhaps you should wait upstairs for now. We’ll let you know of any significant updates.”

“I’ll tell you everything later, promise,” you whispered quietly, linking his pinky with yours beneath the table before he stropily took his leave.

“As I was saying,” Sirius spared Severus a glare and continued, “As we know, Yn is an unregistered wizard with an unregistered wand, meaning she won’t be on the radar of The Ministry of Magic. On the downside of this, seeing as her power manifested late, she is also untrained.”

All gazes fell to you once more, only Remus’ eyes were staring softly, crinkled at the edges from the smile on his lips, “I’ll be tutoring her in Defence Against the Dark Arts over the summer. She’ll catch up quickly, no doubt,” you smiled gratefully at him from your spot, relaxing a bit knowing that you’d actually be learning how to defend yourself the wizard way.

“I suppose I will be tasked with teaching the art of Occlumency? A seer with an easily accessible mind is hardly an asset,” Severus drawled. You didn’t have a clue what occlumency was, in all honesty, but you kept your mouth shut in favour of asking Remus when the meeting was over.

The meeting soon drew to a close, the older Order members slinking to one end of the table to arrange the schedule for your glorified summer school while you, Fred and George snuck away to find Harry. You found him sitting against the headboard of a bed in one of the upstairs bedrooms, “How’d it go?”

“Take a guess, mate, Snape had a right sour look on his face the whole time,” Fred answered, sitting on the bed across from Harry’s. George sat beside him and you made your way to sit with Harry.

“Ah, so that was the infamous professor Snape?” All three boys nodded, looks of exhaustion on their faces, “I don’t trust him. Something is very off about him,” you spoke thoughtfully and the boys nodded in agreement once again.

“I don’t like the idea of you being alone with him,” George said, his brows furrowed.

Fred snorted and clapped his twin roughly on the shoulder, “Getting a bit jealous are you, Georgie?” Harry laughed along with Fred while you blushed lightly and George felt heat rising up the nape of his neck.

“Sod off,” he muttered, but made no attempt to deny that he was slightly jealous of all the alone time his old evil potions professor would be getting with the girl he was harbouring feelings for.

The afternoon quickly turned into the evening and before long you were gathering your things and preparing to return to Cecillia’s. Harry would be heading back to the Dursley’s later that night, much to his dismay. You told him you’d be back on Privet Drive at some point the next morning since Cecillia would be dropping you home, as she promised your parents, so he wouldn’t have to suffer alone for too long.

That summer came and went in a bit of a blur. Two days in each week were spent learning how to protect yourself against the dark arts with Remus. He’s an amazing teacher, that couldn’t be disputed. In the space of only two months he had you duelling like you’d been doing it since the day you were born. Of course, you were thrilled to be bonding with your wand and developing (according to Remus) a very impressive skill for Defence Against the Dark Arts. But, on top of that, the shared conversations and exchanging of stories over hefty mugs of hot chocolate with the werewolf had been a huge highlight of your summer, and had caused the two of you to grow exponentially closer.

September was nearing and with it came a stiff breeze that prompted the hair on your arms to stand alert as you waited by the bus stop, the one just down the road from your house. Today was to be an important lesson with Remus, he hadn’t told you what the lesson would entail, but he had said that it was a charm that was “of the utmost importance”.

Although June, July and August were technically your summer holidays, you’d barely had a second to rest. You were, at this point, running on fumes and sheer will power. Extensively using magic was bound to wear you out, however, getting a good night’s rest after a gruelling training session had become something of a luxury for you. Visions of the future and retellings of past torments plagued your dreams and allowed you no time to rest. One vision in particular had been reoccurring, it arrived every night for the past two weeks, taunting you. The autumn chill that dripped down your spine reminded you of the premonition, having your hairs standing due to fright, rather than cold. It was always the same, no details ever shifted or warped and, unfortunately, the experience never grew any less harrowing. The warning that the vision brought about weighed on you heavily and followed you around like a stray cat. Images of a cold, desolate, blue-hued cellar lived behind your eyes, the phantom feeling of freezing metal shackles weighed on your wrists painfully and the undiluted terror combined with the indescribable agony brought about by the unfamiliar wand shoved against your throat had you forcing yourself to stay awake until you physically couldn’t anymore, each and every night. Nobody knew about the vision, you didn’t want to worry them, though, you knew that your distress was beginning to become visible; dark bags were prominent beneath your eyes, Harry had watched you fall asleep in the middle of the day, often on his shoulder, almost everyday that week and Remus could tell by the sluggish movements of your wand that your mind was elsewhere.

A few minutes passed before your bus arrived, the journey to Grimmauld Place was quite long but you couldn’t seem to warm up to floo travel, so going on a regular bus was the better option. When the red double decker pulled up, you greeted the driver with a smile and paid for your ticket. You made your way up to the second story and sat right at the front. The bus, as it normally tended to be, was empty. Resting your head against the window, you let your eyes slip shut, the noises of tree branches brushing against the speeding windows lulling you into a, hopefully, peaceful sleep.

Thankfully when you woke up, no visions lingered. You woke up just in time too as the bus was rounding up to your stop. As usual, Remus waited for you at the bus stop, his hands shoved deep in his tattered jacket pockets and a gentle smile on his lips.

Still groggy from your nap, when you exited the bus you greeted Remus with a tired wave.

“Dare I say you haven’t been sleeping well, dear?” He said gently, walking alongside you towards the house.

You thought about it for a second, perhaps telling someone wouldn’t be the worst idea in the world. “I’ve just, well, I’ve been having this nightmare,” you started, growing nervous just thinking about it.

“Nightmare or vision?” He pressed as you walked into the house.

Guilt creeped into your chest upon seeing the clear worry on his face, “I think it’s a vision.”

Remus nodded quietly, placing his hand on the small of your back and pushing you in the direction of the living room. He gave you a warm smile, when you sat down on the sofa. He grabbed a blanket that hung over the back of the sofa and draped it over your lap. “I’ll make us some hot chocolate and we can discuss this,” he suggested.

“I thought you had an important lesson for today?” He only shook his head, smiling lightly.

He made his way to the door wordlessly and returned within two minutes with two big, steaming mugs in his hands. Remus handed you a mug and sat down beside you on the sofa, accepting your invitation to pull the blanket over his lap too.

“Now tell me; what has been going on in that wonderful mind of yours?”

You took in a deep breath, staring into the hot chocolate and avoiding his understanding gaze, “It happened for the first time around two weeks ago. I thought that it was just a dream, it didn’t feel like a dream but I thought that if I kept telling myself it was I would start to believe it,” you started, taking a sip of your drink before going back to staring at it, “But it kept coming back. Every night for the last two weeks. I haven’t been able to sleep, I’ve been too scared to,” your voice was small as you made the confession. You hated that the feeling of helplessness was beginning to wash over you yet again.

“What happens in this vision?” At his question, you placed your cup on the floor and turned to face him fully, turning on the sofa and pulling your knees up to your chest.

“It’s always the same. I wake up and the first thing I know is that I’m absolutely freezing. I’m in this cellar-like thing. I’m chained up by my wrists and my feet are barely touching the ground… I can’t see anyone but I can feel-“ your breath hitched and you rushed the swipe the tears that were falling away from your cheeks, “I can feel a wand against my throat, it’s pressing hard. There’s a whisper, it’s quiet and ghostly and I can barely make it out but I hear them say; crucio.”

Remus’ eyes widened in horror.

“Then I feel nothing but agonising pain and then I wake up,” Remus’ eyebrows furrowed.

“You’ve had this same vision every night?” You nodded.

“I know I should have said something but I didn’t want anyone to worry,” it was then that Remus grabbed your hands and looked at you with a sense of urgency you didn’t know he could possess.

“I need you to listen to me very carefully,” his eyes were wild and his hands shook lightly as they held yours, “You-Know-Who is back. There are already reports of certain Wizards going missing and none of us have any doubt that it’s his doing. And although I- we- care for you a great deal, it would serve us all well to remember that you’re a detrimental piece in this war. If he catches wind of you, he’ll stop at nothing to take you from us,” your heart was now running at the speed of a hummingbird. “We have a plan in place to keep you safe, I fear we may have to implement it sooner than planned.”

Before you knew it, you were surrounded by the entire Order of the Phoenix, all of whom looked grave. Cecillia sat to your right while Nymphadora Tonks occupied the seat to your left. You had the pink haired auror to thank for your duelling capabilities, as well as Remus of course. Her presence was comforting, she made it a point to shoot you a wink every time she caught your eyes looking more fearful than usual.

“Our original plan will need to be tweaked, I ran into Narcissa Malfoy in Diagon Alley and she very plainly insinuated that I was a person of interest in the death eating community,” Cecillia informed the table, a, for lack of a better word, bitchy tone laced in her voice. She’d told you many of her Hogwarts stories, you could recall her telling you that she and the woman she’d mentioned, Narcissa, had once been good friends until around their fourth year. She hadn’t told you what exactly had happened, only that it had been messy.

“What was the original plan?” You asked, growing frustrated with the Order’s lack of communication skills.

Thankfully, being one of the younger members of the group, Tonks understood your frustrations and spoke up on behalf of the group, regardless of whether they were ready for you to know or not; she understood that it was your life they were coordinating.

“We talked about relocating you to CeCe’s. We also, and far more pressingly, planned on erasing all traces of you from both the muggle and wizard world. Which would mean using a memory charm on your family and friends in the muggle world,” Tonks explained, eyes locked on yours while everyone else in the room glared daggers at the purple haired girl.

“Yes. Though we also planned on telling you this information with a far more delicate approach,” Snapped Molly Weasley from the end of the table, causing Fred, who sat to her left, to roll his eyes.

“She’s been riddled with visions of being ruthlessly tortured with an unforgivable curse for the past two weeks. I think the time for delicacy is long passed,” the older of the two twins practically scoffed. George nodded in agreement.

“Besides,” he set his gaze on you, eyes genuine and unwavering as he spoke, “she’s strong enough to handle the truth. It’s time you all stopped acting like she isn’t.”

The table fell silent. His words hung in the air as many of the adults hung their heads.

“By memory charm I’m assuming you mean obliviate?” You broke the silence, if you could you hoped to start an open conversation with the experienced witches and wizards that surrounded you.

“Yes. They’re completely reversible and once the war is over I’ll restore all of the memories.” Cecillia said.

“We know it’s a huge ask, dear, but it’s our best chance at keeping you out of that wretched creature’s hands,” Molly attempted to soothe both you and herself when she pictured what it would like to be in your shoes, how she’d feel if she had no other choice but to be forgotten by the thing she valued the most; her family. Molly Weasley had never been very good at hiding her maternal instincts, over the summer that fact had become glaringly obvious to you. You and Harry had laughed about how the children of Privet Drive had a special place in her heart.

“I understand,” you told her sadly, chewing on the inside of your lip, “I’m guessing by the atmosphere in the room that I won’t be home to say goodbye before you wipe their memories,” you shifted yours eyes from person to person, stopping when Cecillia took your hand firmly in hers.

Her lips were downturned and her eyes filled with guilt, she shook her head mournfully, “I’m afraid we can’t risk it, my darling. Even being here places you in danger at the moment.”

“Where will she go then? If CeCe’s place isn’t an option we’ll have to find a safe house,” Sirius sounded and, simultaneously, both Fred and George stood up, shoulder to shoulder with very professional expressions on their faces.

“We may be able to help with that, actually. George, if you would,” Fred started, nodding to his twin who straightened his shoulders and puffed his chest out over so slightly.

“Thank you, Fred. As you know, we have a property for Weasley Wizard Wheezes secured and we’ll be living in the flat above where the shop will be,” everyone at the table, including yourself, stared at the twins in confusion, not quite sure where they were going with their little pitch until Fred took over again.

“And that flat has three bedrooms,” he said, a smirk growing on his thin lips.

George spoke again, “Which means there’s one for me and one for Fred.”

“Which means there’s one spare,” Fred grinned wickedly.

Tonks let out an impressed laugh once the penny finally dropped, “We apparate her in and nobody would ever know a thing. Nobody other than those of us in the room know that Y/n is a friend of the Weasley’s, plus us visiting the joke shop wouldn’t raise any suspicion. I have to give it to them, it’s a great idea,”

“And one of the two of us will always be within shouting distance if anything happens,” George added, somewhat pleadingly.

Sirius looked across the table at you, “Y/n, it’s up to you. Whatever you decide will be final, we won’t interfere,” he promised sincerely. It was an easy decision, but still, it weighed heavily on your chest. In all honesty, you weren’t worried about your location, staying with the twins would surely be a light and fun time amidst all the doom and gloom. Your worry was that you would, once again, be handing over your control. Sirius dressed it up as though it was your choice, but you knew that this was probably their best option and in reality you really had no other choice than to move in with Fred and George.

“Sounds good to me,” you whispered halfheartedly, eyes dropping to stare at your lap as your teeth pulled anxiously at the skin of your lips.

“So it’s settled then,” Remus said, “Y/n will go with Fred and George tonight.”

Abruptly, you pushed your chair away from the table and stood up. Sparing nobody a glance, you left the room as quickly as you possibly could, before the lump in your throat could choke you or the tears that pooled in your eyes spilled like water through a broken dam. George made a move to rise from his seat only for Remus to stop him by placing his hand on the boy’s shoulder, “Give her a moment.”

You found yourself locked in the second story bathroom, sitting in the bath. Your legs hung out over the side of the tub while your head was tilted back against the black tiled wall. As hard as you tried to prevent them, tears were streaming down the expense of your cheeks, neck and beneath the neckline of your shirt. The minutes ticked by yet your chest continued to rise and fall rapidly due to the sobs that shook it, your breath uneven. Visions of brutal torture were bad enough when you were in your own home, in your own warm bed, with your parents just a room away and ready to make you a hot cup of tea after you woke up screaming. Now, the visions would without a doubt continue to plague you, unlike before though, you wouldn’t be waking up in a familiar setting, nor would you fall asleep in the comfort of your own mattress, when you woke up screaming so loud that your throat grew raw, your comfort would rely on two seventeen year old boys who seldom took things seriously. It’s not that you didn’t trust them, no, you trusted them with your life- you are trusting them with your life, it’s just that there was already a lot going on in your mind at the moment, moving in with your crush and his identical twin brother isn’t exactly your idea of a nerve killer.

A knock against the bathroom door pulled you from your thoughts. You rushed to wipe your tears with your sleeves, sniffling, “Come in,” you choked out. Cursing your voice for breaking when you spoke.

Remus’ head poked through the door, his body following soon after. Even in an atmosphere as dense as this one, a sense of gentle calm always followed Remus wherever he went. Clumsily, the werewolf slid into the bath beside you with a low “oof” sound, mimicking your position with his much longer legs dangling closer to the wooden floor than your own.

“CeCe has gone to collect your things for you and get Harry, then, I believe, perform the spell,” he eyed you cautiously, hyper aware of your glassy eyes and puffy face. When your eyes widened and you whipped your face towards him, his stomach twisted into knots, he hated seeing you like this. He could sympathise with your feelings. When James and Lily were killed, and Sirius went to Azkaban and even when Peter was presumed dead, Remus had been left with a vicious frustration fuelled by his belief that he was utterly powerless in his own life. He could see in your eyes that that same notion was starting to creep up on you too.

“Already?” You gasped out, pulse rising again, a slight panic setting in. “It won’t hurt them will it? The spell?” You fretted, looking pleadingly to the man beside you.

He shook his head, tenderly taking your hand and placing it against his clothed chest, his beating heart present against the palm of your shaking hand. “I promise you that they won’t feel a thing. They will go on living an exciting life, travelling, seeing the world safely while you’re away. When this is all over we’ll place their memories of you back in their minds and it will be as though you were never gone.” Your teeth found the inside of your cheek again, gnawing relentlessly at the skin as you failed miserably to hold back a fresh set of tears. Remus squeezed the hand he held against his chest. “Let it out, Y/n. It’s okay, I won’t tell anyone,” he whispered, heart sinking lower when your bottom lip quivered and you let a rasped sob leave your body. With a deep sigh, Remus used the hand he was already holding as leverage to pull you into him, wasting no time he enveloped you in his arms, holding you securely as you cried against his chest. Admittedly, it felt good to let it out, Remus’ hand rubbed soothing circles against your heaving back and eventually, you didn’t know how long it had been, you calmed down, your tear ducts all dried out.

Remus held you in his arms for a while longer, even though you’d stopped crying, he could feel your body as it continued to shake. “I can’t promise you it will all be okay, but I can assure you that myself and Sirius, and everyone else for that matter, will be there for you at the drop of a hat; whatever you need,” he spoke against your hair.

“Whatever I need?” You echoed, the pit in your stomach ever growing.

“Of course,” he confirmed.

Remus startled slightly when you suddenly tore yourself away from him. As best you could in your awkward position, you turned to face him and grabbed his hands with as much urgency as he had done with yours. “I need you to do something for me,” Remus furrowed his brows in confusion, but nodded his head anyway.

“If anything happens to me… Don’t make them remember,” you instructed, maybe the request would’ve seemed radical if you had said it to anyone else, but you knew that Remus had experienced losses like no one else you knew, perhaps Harry came close but even his shortcomings couldn’t compare to Remus’. “It’d only cause them pain. If I die and they’re happily living none the wiser, leave them be, please,” the man let out a heavy sigh and took a moment to take you in. Your eyes were hard yet pleading, they left him no room to negotiate and he understood perfectly where you were coming from.

“Alright,” he agreed before raising his eyebrow and readjusting himself to get a better look at you, “However you should know; no matter what may come of this war, none of us will forget about you. In such a short time you’ve given us so much… you gave Harry his first friendship, a friendship that he cherishes more than anything in the world, I might add. You saved Sirius from death, my fiancé and Harry’s godfather. Mentoring you has given Cecillia a new lease of life and Molly Weasley one more child to knit jumpers for at Christmas,” he took a brief pause then went on, “For the sake of saving time I won’t even begin to tell you what you mean to the twins. My point is;” there was a melancholic type of smile on his face when he paused again, as if he was imagining what it would be like to remember you fondly if you did in fact die for the cause, “What you’re asking is incredibly selfless. And while your mother and father may not remember how wonderful you are, we all will.” Remus chuckled lowly when you shuffled your way back into his arms, squeezing his middle tightly. He slung his arm around your shoulders and delicately pressed his lips to the top of your head. You held so much love in your heart for the man who was currently cradling you in his arms. You debated telling him, you weren’t sure if it was entirely appropriate but after the speech he’d just given you couldn’t have cared less, “Remus?”

“Hm?”

“I love you,” you murmured, looking up at him innocently.

He offered you a toothy smile and breathed out a soft laugh, “I love you too.” With a content nod, you rested your head back against his chest, enjoying his soothing heartbeats against your ear. A melodic hum rumbled against your cheek, a quiet giggle left your mouth when you recognised the melody to the song he was humming. The tune of “Rhiannon” by Fleetwood Mac floated through the bathroom bringing a genuine smile to your lips. The werewolf’s humming was interrupted by another knock against the bathroom door, whoever was knocking didn’t wait for a response before entering the room. Sirius stepped in and quietly shut the door behind him. He didn’t question you and Remus' position in the bath but simply slid into the tub on the other side of you, sandwiching you between himself and Remus. The black haired man let out a heavy sigh and leaned his head back against the tiles.

“The mother hens downstairs are worrying up a storm,” he said in exasperation, “I don’t think I’ve ever seen Tonks so riled up about someone’s safety. I tasked Molly with making you some hot chocolate to keep her occupied”

“Maybe I should go back down…” you muttered halfheartedly, begrudgingly peeling yourself away from Remus’ warm body.

Sirius gave you an apologetic look, “I held them off for as long as I could.”

“Thanks,” you whispered, bumping your shoulder to his, making him chuckle. After pulling yourself out of the bath, rather clumsily, you took a second to check yourself over in the mirror.

“You’re glowing, darling,” Sirius all but sang from behind you and you couldn’t stop the slight snort that escaped you.

“That’s one way to put it.”

“If you don’t believe me go on downstairs and ask George what he thinks,” Sirius teased, wiggling his eyebrows and receiving a light shove from his fiancé who couldn’t hide his grin.

“Leave her alone, love,” he chastised weakly, “You look perfectly fine, Y/n. Go downstairs and get something to drink, you need to rehydrate.” A bittersweet smile broke out on your lips, his fatherly tone simultaneously soothed you and left you yearning for what you were in the process of losing. Trying not to dwell on the sad fact, you left the bathroom and slowly descended the stairs.

As you assumed, the second you stepped back into the kitchen, Molly began to fret over you as if her life depended on it. Sipping on the hot chocolate she’d given you, you were reminded of how desperately tired you were. All the crying hadn’t helped ease the heaviness in your eyes either. Every bone in your body felt heavy for that matter, you were struggling to even hold your head up.

“You can lean against my shoulder if you’d like,” George’s voice broke you from your hazed state, you’d completely forgotten he was sitting beside you despite his leg that was pressed against yours beneath the table. You gave him a sleepy but grateful smile, as subtly as you could you scooched closer to the ginger and slotted yourself against his side, letting your head fall onto his shoulder. “Will you keep me awake until Harry and Cecillia get here?” You requested in a slurred murmur, your eyes fluttering between open and shut.

“Of course,” was all he said, he looked down at you adoringly, smiling like an idiot when you nuzzled into his shoulder, your nose rubbing against his neck. Try as he might, George couldn’t pull his eyes away from your drowsy face. “What do you propose we do?”

You shrugged your shoulders lightly, “Just talk.”

“How would you like your new room decorated?” He asked quietly, his head tilted down while he spoke to you, so you could hear him and so he wouldn’t ruin the lulled bubble you’d managed to obtain between you by talking too loudly. A sweet smile grew on your face, a smile that all but knocked all the breath out of George’s lungs when you angled your head to make eye contact.

“Can I have a double bed?” George snorted at your question and shook his head no.

“Nothing smaller than a king. What else?”

You pretended to ponder for a moment, “Can we paint it?” The ginger nodded, taking his bottom lip between his teeth.

“If you want to,” he started, almost sounding nervous, “We could paint it together?” Even in your sleep deprived state you hadn’t missed the vulnerability in his voice, it was the same vulnerability that you’d noticed when he’d asked you to go get a butterbeer with him a couple of months ago.

“I’d love that,” you told him, your answer causing his lips to twist into a pleased smile, “How do you feel about the colour green?”

Immediately, his smile dropped and he let out a disgusted scoff, “Green is a Slytherin colour.”

“You keep forgetting that I don’t get the whole house sorty thing,” you reminded him, not happy with his reasoning for hating your favourite colour. “Besides, I love green, it’s my favourite colour.” You told him truthfully. Not content with his disgruntled facial expression you began to defend your preference, “A lot of beautiful things are green; you’ve got grass, trees, emeralds- did you know that emeralds are really useful for enhancing psychic abilities? It also evokes clarity of thought,” you rambled, willing yourself to be quiet when you registered George’s fond expression.

The look of endearment aimed at you brought butterflies to life in your stomach, effectively waking you up somewhat.

“Do you have any emerald?” He asked, you assumed he was only feigning interest, you didn’t know that he could’ve listened to you go on and on about anything and everything for the rest of his life.

“No, not yet. I should probably get some though.” You said through a yawn. Your breath against his neck made him giggle, it was pure and unsuspecting but you took note of it. Everything about George Weasley felt like sunshine to you, his laugh filled your chest with warmth whenever you heard it, his eyes found yours like a lighthouse, guiding your lost mind back to the present each time your gazes connected. His voice, like his laugh, warmed you up when you were cold, giving you a reason to stay awake when you’d rather just slip away. In conjunction with the sun, even if you couldn’t physically see him, you never doubted that he was always there. As well as all of that, like your favourite tarot card; The Sun, he signified good things, hope that hard times will end with you on top, contentment and happiness. While your thoughts consisted of George’s similarities to the sun, his were consumed with the, in his mind, overwhelmingly cheesily romantic notion that you were the moon and the stars, he would’ve cringed if he didn’t wholeheartedly believe it. Everything that made the night sky magnificent was reflected in you. Like the stars, you were mysterious and captivating. Nothing seemed to compare to your glow or beauty, if you were to ask him what he preferred; you or the night sky on a clear night, he’d happily ignore a blank, starless sky in favour of simply staring at you as you went on tangent after tangent about crystals or tarot cards.

The pair of you were pulled from your musings when Harry rushed through the kitchen door looking unmistakably heartbroken, ever the empath when it came to his best friend, Harry’s heart sank the moment he laid eyes on your form, limp against George’s side. The second you saw him you all but ripped yourself from George’s side and the older redhead felt a surge of irrational jealousy begin to build in his chest at how fast you left his hold in favour of the chosen one. He knew it was ridiculous, he’d heard the way each of you respectively talked about each other, at this point you were practically siblings. But he supposed it was rational to be jealous when you liked someone the way he liked you.

Quickly, you crossed the room to Harry who had his arms already outstretched. He knew you were emotionally exhausted when you didn’t bear hug him. You meekly slid your arms beneath his open zip-up hoodie, tucked your head beneath his chin and didn’t say a word. “I shouldn’t bother asking if you’re okay then,” Harry muttered to himself, leaning his cheek against the top of your head and wrapping his lanky arms around your frame.

“Did Cecillia remember to bring Astra?” You asked, it was all you wanted to know about the night’s events.

“She’s in her cage in the living room, darling,” Cecilia said, walking into the room looking guilty.

“C’mon, let’s go have a chat,” Harry suggested, leading you out of the kitchen and upstairs to his unofficial room. Once inside the room you sat down on the edge of the bed, the blue duvet softly creasing beneath you. Harry plopped himself down beside you and offered you a gesture that was always saved for when either of you felt the other was on the edge of something dangerous. Your hands rested against your lap and he deftly slid his pinky over yours, intertwining your two littlest fingers. It was such a familiar experience; he’d done it when your grandparents died, when you’d cried over failed exams that you worked hard for, and in turn, you did it for him when he’d felt as though he had no place in the world, when he’d open up about his parents and when Cedric died and the ministry dragged his name through the mud you’d find your pinky tangled with his almost every night after he’d sneak over to your place after another nightmare or panic attack. “Do you want to talk about it?”

You shook your head, “Not tonight. I don’t want to cry anymore,” you croaked out, looking straight ahead of you at the grey painted wall.

“I understand,” he said, sighing and dropping his head onto your shoulder, “Let’s talk about something else then.”

“Like what, Haz?”

Harry snorted out a chuckle, “Like the way George looked like he wanted to hex me when you left him to come to me,” he teased, a smug lilt to his voice.

“He wasn’t teasing me, perhaps I’ll go back to him,” you grumbled, ignoring Harry’s childish giggles.

“Yeah you’d like that wouldn’t you?” You smacked his arm lightly with your free hand, doing a bad job of containing giggles of your own. “Don’t worry, since he’s going to be your new roommate there will be plenty of time for “oh George I’m so sleepy, please hold me until I fall asleep”,” you let out a cackle at Harry’s terrible impression of your voice, laying your cheek against his wild hair.

“That is so not what was going on, Haz,” you defended with a tiny smile.

Harry let out an airy, disbelieving chuckle, “Then what was going on?”

“He just said I could lean on him until you and Cecillia arrived and we just started chatting about how I wanna decorate my room,” you explained truthfully and Harry nodded.

“Riveting,” he mumbled sarcastically. Despite his snarky comment, the boy removed his head from your shoulder and pulled you against his chest. “Jokes aside, I’m glad you’re staying with him, I know he’ll look after you for me,” you rolled your eyes at the sentiment.

“I don’t need to be looked after,” you reminded him, looking up at him with a chastising smile.

He rolled his eyes right back at you, jostling you slightly in his arms, “No. But you like to be.”

You threw your head back in laughter, “Yeah, I suppose I do.” You did. You quite like both doting on people and being doted on, you’d grown up in an affectionate family so it was no wonder really.

“It’s getting late. We should get you settled into your new home,” Harry announced, pulling himself and you up from the bed, “I wasn’t going to say anything but you look terrible. You need sleep.”

“Thank you, Harry. Just what every girl wants to hear before moving in with her crush,” you joked, gently hitting your hip against his.

The kitchen was quiet when you returned, it seemed everyone had grown tired from the dramatic events of the evening.

“Ready to go then?” Fred asked, his coat already on and a handful of your bags in his hands.

“As I’ll ever be I suppose.”

After saying goodbye to everyone you, Fred and George traveled to their apartment by floo, to your dismay. The apartment was bare as they’d only just moved in but you could see it had lots of potential for becoming a cozy home for the twins.

As your first night in your new residence began, your aching eyes and tired mind didn’t leave you with any time to dwell on current events, the second your head made contact with the pillow you were out like a light. A dreamless slumber welcomed you for a while until your peace was broken by the all too familiar nightmare.

The first thing you recognised was the burn coming from your wrists. Shackles adorned them and effectively held your hands high above your head, stretching them uncomfortably. Goosebumps painted the expanse of your arms and legs, due to the freezing temperature in the nondescript cellar. A feeling of hopelessness planted firmly in your chest, the feeling only hightening when the familiar echo of footsteps, heavy and loud, drifted from the corridor outside of your field of vision. You knew who was approaching, you’ve lived this before, and so, you held your lip between your teeth and squeezed your eyes shut. The face of the dark wizard who always brought about your intense suffering was, for the most part, completely fuzzy, unrecognisable, featureless and bone-chillingly terrifying. You’d learned over the last two weeks of having this vision that it was less harrowing if you closed your eyes.

“I’ll ask you once more,” The voice was distorted, like it was being heard through a weedy radio, ominously unplaceable, “Where is he?”

You held no control over your voice, as was the norm during visions, as you felt and heard yourself reply, “I’ll tell you once more; I’d sooner die then sell him to you.” You felt your teeth gritting and your jaw clenching while you spoke. Jaw only tightening when the pointed tip of the wizard’s wand stabbed unforgivingly against the column of your neck.

“And die you will, my dear. But not yet-“ your eyes sealed themselves shut and you did your best to shake yourself out of the vision before what you knew was coming took place, as usual, your attempts were fruitless, “-Crucio.” Just like that your body was consumed by pain, the likes of which you’d never imagined possible, until you couldn’t even register yourself screaming anymore.

You bolted upright, clutching at the sheets of your new bed. Laboured breaths left your mouth and you aimlessly gripped at your neck, where the wand had been pressed, and let the tears spill freely. Momentarily disoriented, you’d forgotten where you were. Deep, heavy bursts of air left your mouth as you hastily scurried out of bed and towards the door. Somewhat aimlessly, you gravitated to the door across the hall. A yellow hue seeped from under the frame into the otherwise dark hallway. Light flooded the hall once you managed to fumble the handle down and pull the door ajar, a discombobulated ginger greeting you with half lidded eyes, obviously having been dozing off before you disturbed his peace.

“Sorry,” you rasped once your peace of mind returned to you and you realised where you were. Despite knowing that you shouldn’t have been standing numbly in his doorway, your feet seemed to be rooted in place, you couldn’t have walked away if you wanted to.

“S’alright,” George called out to you softly, sitting up in his bed, his back against the headboard. “You can come in, you know.”

Shutting the door behind you, you nervously shuffled into the room, stopping when you reached the side of his bed. George’s eyes roamed your face and he took notice of your still somewhat panicked expression, he drew his covers to the side and patted the empty space by his side. Something that always intrigued you was people’s preferred side of the bed, some people gravitated towards the left while others were more biased towards the right, but George Weasley? He slept right in the middle. The twin slept with a huge number of pillows, to the point where it was almost laughable, many of which you could only guess he’d smuggled from the Burrow.

Far too wound up to save face, you slid into his bed and didn’t shy away when he guided you into his side and tucked you tenderly beneath his lean arm. His embrace offered a greatly appreciated warmth as the chill of the dank dungeon always lingered long after the vision itself was over.

“What’re you doing up so late?” You asked, your voice gravelly. As you spoke, George effortlessly shuffled your body and his down so that your backs were resting on the mattress and not the headboard. Your head found it’s home against George’s shoulder and your hair was being tentatively twirled between his fingers.

“It’s our first night actually sleeping here. I couldn’t get to sleep,” he explained, his voice low and laced with fatigue. “I’m not really used to having my own room. It’s strange not hearing Freddie snoring or breathing.”

“I get that,” you whispered, “it’s quite comforting knowing for certain that someone is there with you.”

George nodded then. His eyes were glued to your face and he hadn’t even registered his own thought process before his lips were pressing delicately against your forehead. Today had appeared to be the day for laying all your cards out on the table, yourself and George hadn’t danced around your feelings for each other half as much as you usually did when you’d be in each other’s presence. Neither of you had the energy anymore, besides, if today’s events proved anything it was that; things were getting seriously messy as the war built momentum and it was clear that time was something that could very well be running out.

“Yeah,” he regarded you carefully, a little grin growing on his lips, “It is.”

A comfortable silence overtook the room. George’s twirling of your hair never ceased, every now and then his fingers would ghost over your shoulder and you’d catch yourself smiling against the cotton of his shirt as your eyes grew tired enough that they were close to falling shut.

Just as you were working up the motivation to lift yourself up and trudge back to your own bed, George spoke, “You can sleep here if you want, with me,” there was that innocent vulnerability again. There was never an ulterior motive when it came to him, he did things purely for the sake of making others happy, if he felt he could make a difference he simply needed to. Especially when it came to you, he realised.

“You don’t mind?” You asked, daring to peek up at him.

“Course not. I could use some company anyway.” He reassured you, his lips returning to your forehead, only this time the action held far more intention. “You don’t snore do you, love?”

You snorted out a giggle, looking up at the ginger cheekily, mischief dripping from your little grin that forced George’s heart to stutter rather violently and he hoped you hadn’t noticed. “No. But I drool.”

George’s face contorted, his nose scrunching up adorably in disgust, “Do you really?”

“Suppose you’ll have to find out, won’t you?” You teased and he sighed deeply, his disgruntled expression melting into a soft, adoring smile.

“I should’ve expected this, I knew you couldn’t have been completely perfect,” he said, mockingly sorrowful.

You scoffed, pushing his chest lightly, “You’re doing a lot of sweet talking tonight, Mr. Weasley,” you told him and he shrugged innocently.

“Just wanted to see you smiling again, darling.”

“Yeah, well, you’re doing a good job,” you assured him, the bashful yet tired smile that stretched your lips as you gazed up at him proved that you meant what you’d just said. “I like it by the way, the sweet talking.”

At your words, a huge, shit eating smirk grew on the boy’s freckled face. He managed to rearrange your bodies so that you were still tucked under his arm but you were now facing each other at eye level. “I knew it,” he proclaimed cockily.

You raised a challenging eyebrow, biting back a smirk, “Oh did you?”

George nodded pridefully, “‘Course I did. You see, I’m a little bit psychic,” his words forced a booming laugh from your lips, your cheeks hurting from the smile he’d orchestrated.

You shook your head, smile never dulling as you let out a chastising whisper, “oh sod off.”

“I love your smile,” he said suddenly, his eyes widened in horror when he realised he’d uttered the words out loud. The world could’ve stopped in that moment and you wouldn’t have noticed, all you could take in was George’s face, his eyes searching yours for something.

Carefully, you slid from hand from his chest to his red, blushing face. You cupped his cheek gently, moving your thumb against his cheek bone, almost swooning where you lay when he nuzzled against your touch. Working up some Gryffindor courage, George mimicked your movement, removing his arm from around your shoulder and bringing his palm to rest against the curve of your jaw.

As you stared at each other, you weighed up the pros and cons of telling him that you were completely head over heels for him. Your decision, apparently taking far too long, was made for you when George tugged you impossibly closer to him.

“I wasn’t going to tell you… you’ve had so much going on I didn’t want to overwhelm you,” he said, brown eyes boring into your soul.

“Tell me what?”

He took a deep breath, preparing himself for every possible outcome that may spring once the words on the tip of his tongue are spoken aloud, “That I love you.”

[ashesandhackles]

Deconstructing Harry: The boy we meet in Philosopher's Stone to the man in Deathly Hallows

I have often seen fans talk about how nebulous Harry is as a character, especially in the earlier books. They can't make sense of who he is as a character and other more colourful, more actualized personalities take over our attention from any traits Harry might display. Harry becomes more defined for a lot of people OOTP onwards where he displays traits that sometimes make him unbearable or unlikable.

Harry, as we are introduced in PS, has a very little sense of self. He is narratively self deprecating or plays down his presence or skills, not that he is aware he has any. He grew up without any presence of him displayed in the house - no photos, no idea about his parents or what they look like or what really happened to them and discouraged from asking questions. Harry as we meet him is neglected, rootless about his identity and longs for escape. For him, every day is a battle against Dudley, who bullies him or Vernon, thus setting a worldview that never truly goes away: him vs adults. But just because Harry doesn't attach traits or values to self, does not mean he does not have it.

It's an effective narrative tool though - for Harry to be our eyes of the world. Only in later re-readings can we get a grasp of the traits that become more pronounced as books go on. Also, it's not surprising that Harry develops a better sense of self when he is removed from an abusive home.

Let me begin with this:

1. Harry is a fighter

One of the things that struck me in later re-readings is that how much of a fighter Harry is, from the very beginning. He will not lie down and take abuse. The narrative presents it as no big deal, because Harry doesn't assign any importance to it - it's every day life for him.

-Verbal standing up-

See his reaction to Uncle Vernon and the letter fiasco. He stands up for himself, even if it falls on deaf ears. "I want my letter - as it is mine!". Later on, in the same book, a completely befuddled 11 year old Harry stands up to Snape too, but in a politer way: "I think Hermione knows the answer. Why don't you try her?". He gets less polite with Snape as books go on. Harry's humor is something he employs liberally with Dudley when standing up to him - "The poor toilet's never had anything as horrible as your head down it - it might be sick" and we see this trait manifest into the sass we all know and love.

- Fight or flight-

He is remarkably good at "fighting himself out of tight corners" as Snape put it. And although Snape attributes it to luck and more talented friends, he is onto something about Harry's ability to worm out of tight corners. He lives moment to moment in a dangerous situation - relying on his nerve, very fast reflexes and athleticism. He is also able to notice things in an environment that will get him out of a quick pinch. You see this clearly in Department of Mysteries in Book 5 where he comes up with the idea to smash shelves, the mad idea to escape on a dragon, the ministry escape where he manipulates Runcorn's image (as he noticed how people were reacting to him) to create chaos and get the Muggleborns and the trio out, Chamber of Secrets when he instinctively understood the diary is the source of power and stabbed it.

Where does the athleticism and ability to spot dangerous situation come from? This boy has spent a decade cheeking Dudley and running away from his gang, spotting when he needs to get out of the way as "long experience had told him to be out of Uncle Vernon's arms reach" or "ducking when Aunt Petunia aimed a frying pan at his head". The instinct to see a dangerous situation develops over the course of the books in his adventures - to the point Harry unconsciously brings out his wand in Tottenham road without thinking too much about it. He is almost always wary and less quick to lower his wand.

When hiding/ escaping is not an option, Harry is not above physical fighting - despite how small and skinny he is in Book 1. Both he and Dudley fight for a chance to listen at the door when letter first arrives for Harry. Dudley wins the fight. Later on, Harry jumps Uncle Vernon from behind and hangs on to his neck to get his letter. He even does the same thing to the troll in the same book. ( Then over the course of series, we see him beat up Sirius in Book 3, Malfoy in Book 5, strangle Mundungus in Book 6 - all of these are related to his fury over the dead, so different context. But still).

- Manipulation/ Cunning-

11 year old Harry even tries sneakily - waking up early to get his letter (unfortunately didn't work). The other sneaky methods he has employed throughout the series is - not telling Dursleys at end of PS that he is not allowed magic at home, threatens Dudley with it in COS, not telling them Sirius is innocent to play up the threat of a murderous godfather to keep them accountable, and also the smooth way he negotiates with Uncle Vernon for Hogsmeade letter. ("Well it will be hard work, pretending to aunt Marge that I go to St Whatsits" ,"Knocking the stuffing out of me won't make Aunt Marge forget what I could tell her"). He similarly displays his negotiation and playing to what he knows about people with Slughorn in Book 6, Pettigrew in Book 7.

The scene with Slughorn is disturbing, with Harry coercing a drunk Slughorn to give up his memory. You can argue that this is the influence of Felix Felicis, but I think the potion acted more as facilitation. The disturbing way Harry brings up his mother's murder to unnerve Slughorn is his own doing. ("Voldemort stepped over my father's body towards mum" "I forgot - you liked her, didn't you?"). Again, in a life threatening situation, Harry plays to Pettigrew's latent guilt: "You are going to kill me? After I saved your life? You owe me Wormtail!"

2. Relational justice over abstract justice

Harry's concept of justice is relational and based on his high empathy for the underdog. He notices power dynamic in a situation and empathises with the victim. This is in contrast to Hermione, who has more abstract, bigger picture view of justice. It's no wonder that Hermione is the one who is the most political of the three.

His high empathy for the underdog and needing to stand up for them is because he feels responsiblility that no one should go through what he went through. He stands up for Neville in PS and encourages him to stand up for himself. When he sees his father bullying Snape, it is not about an abstract "this is wrong behavior". Harry goes further: "Harry knew what it felt like to be taunted among a circle of onlookers" , Harry focuses on young Snape's mismatched clothes because he himself knows what it's like to wear clothes that are not yours or ones that make you look ridiculous. His empathy extends to Voldemort too - understanding why he may not want to go back to his orphanage and desire to be in Hogwarts, wondering why Merope wouldn't stay alive for her son, his fixation with Voldemort's maimed soul in King's Cross chapter and later asking Voldemort to feel remorse (" I have seen what you will become otherwise"). Even his reaction to Dobby in COS - "Can't anyone help you? Can't I?" when Dobby talks about his slavery. Hermione is usually seeing the bigger picture, Harry sees the individual.

3. Pathological mistrust of adults

He is less likely of the trio to take an adult at their words or be assured by them when they say they are taking care of things. He has learnt, from a very young age, that he is always expected to take care of himself. And the times he does take things to adult, they consistently disappoint him - by patronising him or acting like he is a child, neither of which he has tolerance for or appreciates. This is why he takes to Sirius and Lupin, who exhibit neither of these communication patterns. In some ways, Mr Weasley too.

Umbridge's abuse of him for him is framed as a battle of wills between her and him, as if he is an equal. And he loses if he complains - "not giving her a satisfaction of knowing she got to me". Harry's worldview has always been - adult vs him.

His inability to trust adults even extends to the ability of adults he likes to look after themselves. While Sirius is understandably a wreck in OOTP, he has by and large followed Dumbledore's orders. This doesn't register with Harry (Ron points it out: "Sirius listens to Dumbledore even though he doesn't like what he hears") and Harry's fears about Sirius, excaberated by Sirius's tendency for recklessness, comes to play.

He even showed similar distrust in Lupin's judgement in taking a potion from Snape in POA ("Harry felt the urge to knock the goblet out of Lupin's hands" and tries to hint at Lupin that Snape will "do anything" for DADA job). And he shows this once again with the most magically powerful wizard he knows - Dumbledore. ("if I tell you to abandon me and save yourself, you must do so". Dumbledore has to insist on this before Harry nods reluctantly. It's also Dumbledore's wording, but this is a wizard Harry feels safe with almost entirely because of his power - and yet Harry cannot obey an order like this without reluctance). It's not about Harry's own ability to take care of them - he just innately cannot leave people to it.

4. Humor as a value and coping mechanism

Harry has an established coping mechanism by the time we are introduced to him - quip in the face of danger/ dark humor. There are repeated instances of Harry amusing himself with snarky comments in his head when things are really bad for him. Like in PS, when they are in the hut, Harry wonders if the roof will fall in and then thought that if it did fall in, he might be warmer. In the earlier books (before his growth), he seems to value Ron over Hermione simply because he is more "fun". Harry enjoys being around funny people like Ron, Weasley twins, later Ginny simply because there is some dark stuff happening with him and he needs "fun" people for semblance of normalcy, escape. In fact, this desire is so strong, he attaches it to his romantic relationships: Ginny is a "blissful oblivion" and times with her are "something out of someone else's life". His relationship with Cho failed because her coping mechanism is discussing her trauma and Harry's is escaping it.

-dealing with conflict with people he likes, small digression-

A part of his growing up in later books includes valuing Hermione as much he values Ron and we see it in display in HBP, where he is more willing to stand up for her to Ron (something he kind of did more quietly before in POA - "can't you give her a break?" ) and also get confrontational with her instead of using Ron as a buffer between them to fend off her more boisterous/ bossy tendencies. ("let him make up his mind" "skip the lecture" "don't nag" - Ron took the heat in earlier books. In HBP, Harry is more willing to be irritable with her in a day-to-day interaction - "I hope you enjoy yourself" he tells Hermione when she states her intention to investigate Half Blood Prince. Or when she tests the book - "Finished? Or do you want to see if it does backflips?" "Do you have rub it in Hermione, how do you think I feel now?" at the end of HBP. ) In OOTP, his best method to deal with her when she bothers him was lying, avoiding her nagging and if that doesn't work, explode and treat her to display of his temper. There is more to explore here, of course - even with regard to how he deals with Mrs Weasley in Book 4, 5 and the difference of him hugging her in Book 7.

5. Fascination with the dead/ a passive death wish

Harry feels remarkably little sense of betrayal knowing that he was set up to die by Dumbledore. His self sacrificing streak is rooted in his love, yes, but I also think Harry is a little bit too fascinated by death, not surprising considering most people he loved are dead. Him wanting the resurrection stone in DH, him obsessively spending time at Mirror of Erised (to the point he feels feverish and Ron thinking he looks strange) until Dumbledore stops him, him almost wanting to fail to learn a Patronus because he wants to hear his parents voice, the hearing of whispering voices in the Veil in OOTP which only Luna could hear apart from him, the scene at the grave where he almost wishes he was "lying under the snow" with his parents, the possession scene in the book of OOTP has him wishing to die so he can be with Sirius. You can almost argue the Harry has, in many moments, shown raw desire of death. In fact, him choosing to let go of the stone and not go looking for it is a big character decision for him.

I also want to address Harry's temper and how that develops over course of series, the implications of understanding the people he loved and put on pedestal are flawed - but I am afraid this post is already way too long. So I will leave that for some time later.

[hollybollybingbong]

Albus Dumbledore is the worst.

Albus Dumbledore was written to be a hero, and that's what makes him such a good villain. Almost everyone in the Wizarding World trusted him and thought he was so incredible and amazing, but in reality, he was playing a brilliant game of chess, using them all as his pawns.

How? Let's start from the beginning with Tom Riddle.

Dumbledore first met Tom when he was eleven, and even then, you could see the warning signs. Dumbledore did too. He saw that Tom was dangerous and unstable, and Dumbledore, being Dumbledore, wanted to give him a chance at Hogwarts.

But, Dumbledore, also, being Dumbledore, was the only one who saw who Tom really was, and only "kept an annoyingly close watch on him." He saw Tom Riddle, at the age of eleven saying "I can make bad things happen to people who annoy me. I can make them hurt if I want," and did not think to do anything about it.

He said to Harry in Chamber of Secrets that, "help will be given at Hogwarts to those who ask for it," yet, here we have Tom Riddle, who desperately needed help, and did not get it. Could Dumbledore have prevented Tom Riddle from becoming who he was? I'm not sure. Could he have helped him more while he was at Hogwarts? 100%

Next up, Sirius (and a bit of Remus)

One thing I never understood while reading the books was why Sirius had to spend twelve years in Azkaban when there were literally potions that forced you to tell the truth.

The truth is, unsurprisingly, Dumbledore wanted him there. By keeping Sirius in Azkaban, there was no way he could adopt Harry (who was legally his), and ruin Dumbledore's perfectly thought out plan of manipulating Harry. Dumbledore was a high-ranking member of the Wizengamot, if he managed to get Snape off, he surely could've gotten Sirius free too.

But unlike Snape, and Remus, and Hagrid, and Harry, Dumbledore couldn't use Sirius. Remus was a werewolf with no job prospects in the Wizarding World, and no Muggle qualifications either. He spent twelve years alone, as he watched his friends die or get sent to Azkaban. But then here comes Dumbledore, who gives him a job and a home when no one else would. And suddenly, Remus is loyal to Dumbledore.

Hagrid, a half-giant, was kicked out of Hogwarts in his third year for something he didn't do. But Dumbledore comes along and suddenly Hagrid has a home and job, and owes it to Dumbledore, ensuring his loyalty.

Even Snape, Dumbledore saved him from a lifetime in Azkaban prison, securing his loyalty too.

But Sirius, Sirius was different. He saw right through Dumbledore and his manipulation. He was a rebel and chose his path. A path that didn't involve Dumbledore, which is why he was stuck in Azkaban for twelve years, despite him being innocent. Because him being around would've messed up Dumbledore's plan to raise Harry to die, because there is no way in hell that Sirius would've allowed that to happen.

Finally, Harry Potter, himself.

Harry escaped death at the age of one and then was essentially kidnapped by Hagrid on Dumbledore's orders. While there's no proof, surely James and Lily would've written a will, especially considering they were living through a war with their son being the target for the greatest dark wizard of all time. I believe that Dumbledore pulled some strings (because remember, he was a member of the Wizengamot, and despite not holding the title of Minister for Magic, he was as good as, especially considering how incompetent they were), so he could be in charge of Harry's living arrangements and manipulate him further. Sirius Black was his legal guardian, being godfather and all, and yet Hagrid had "orders from Dumbledore," so he got stuck with the Dursleys.

Harry grew up in this abusive home where he was unwanted, neglected, and bullied, so when he eventually finds out about the Wizarding World, he sees it as a home, a safe haven, away from the Dursleys. He feels grateful to the Wizarding World for saving him from them. And when he has to go back at the beginning of summer, it's a reminder that it can all be taken away, so when Harry has to sacrifice himself to save the world he's come to love so much, of course, he does! Because why wouldn't he? It's his home.

Dumbledore could've left Harry with Remus, or the Weasley's, or the Longbottom's, or literally any other family, but the Dursley's made Harry easiest to manipulate.

And before anyone mentions Lily's blood wards, Dumbledore says in Order of the Phoenix: "You need return there only once a year, but as long as you can still call it home, there he cannot hurt you."

There was no reason for Harry to grow up in an abusive household, isolated from the Wizarding World, but it made Harry an easier pawn to manipulate in Dumbledore's game.

Similarly, when Harry is in school, he rewards Harry's saviour complex through house points. In Philosopher's Stone, the trio very clearly go against McGonagall's orders and put themselves in dangerous situations to 'save the day.' But instead of facing any punishment, they are rewarded via the House Cup, and Dumbledore is buying Harry's loyalty.

It's always Harry being the one to put himself into dangerous situations, never Dumbledore. Chamber of Secrets, Harry and Ginny both nearly die, but oh, thanks to Dumbledore's phoenix the day is saved! But wait, wasn't Dumbledore there the first time the Chamber was opened? Was there nobody else in the entire Wizarding World who could fix this mess, without having to rely on a twelve-year-old???

Prisoner of Azkaban. Why were Harry and Hermione the ones to rescue Sirius? Why couldn't Dumbledore do it himself? Goblet of Fire. You're telling me the 'most powerful wizard in the world' couldn't break the magical contract? In all honesty, he probably could, but he said it himself, he wanted to see what would happen. He was using Harry as bait. McGonagall seems to be the only person who cares about this poor boy's life. And then we have Order of the Phoenix. Where Dumbledore isolates himself from Harry, gets Snape to teach him Occlumency instead of doing it himself, which leads to Sirius's death, which I believe was planned (to an extent).

And at the end of Order of the Phoenix, Dumbledore comes 'clean,' saying that the reason he ghosted Harry for the entire year, was because 'he cared for him too much.' That he cared more about Harry's happiness than the safety of others, that he put Harry's life above the life of innocent people. He was telling Harry, who watched his godfather die in front of him, and blamed himself for it, that him being happy would lead to the deaths of others. Dumbledore's exact quote was, "What did I care if numbers of nameless and faceless people and creatures were slaughtered in the vague future, if in the here and now you were alive, and well, and happy." And of course, Dumbledore said this, because he knows Harry has a tendency to sacrifice himself for others, and as a result, he'll choose to die when the time comes.

Dumbledore kept Harry's inevitable death from him for sixteen years, five while he was at Hogwarts. And guess what? By this point, Harry was wrapped so tightly around Dumbledore's little finger, and wouldn't say no even if he could.

Harry Potter was raised like a pig for slaughter, by a man he trusted. And this makes me so angry. Harry Potter was seventeen when he walked into the forest alone, more than willing to die. He was seventeen when he and his friends fought in a war against people twice their age. He was seventeen when he saw some of those friends for the last time, watched them die fighting a war that none of them had seen the start of.

He was fifteen when he watched his godfather die before him, and blamed himself for it. He was fourteen when he watched Cedric Diggory die at the hand of Voldemort. He was twelve when he had to fight a basilisk and Tom Riddle single-handedly while trying to save himself and eleven-year-old Ginny Weasley. He was eleven and having to find and protect the Philosopher's Stone, the first 'test' of many. He was a child battling an adult's war, with no choice in the matter.

Dumbledore manipulated them all, so he could get children to fight his battles for him.

[lunarfly]

Mini Essay: H/Hr in the CoS Ending Scene

The book Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets is filled with sweet and unique H/Hr scenes. But there's one that specifically draws my attention and completes my understanding of the H/Hr bond — the end scene:

Harry pulled out his quill and a bit of parchment and turned to Ron and Hermione.

“This is called a telephone number,” he told Ron, scribbling it twice, tearing the parchment in two, and handing it to them. “I told your dad how to use a telephone last summer — he’ll know. Call me at the Dursleys’, okay? I can’t stand another two months with only Dudley to talk to. . . .”

“Your aunt and uncle will be proud, though, won’t they?” said Hermione as they got off the train and joined the crowd thronging toward the enchanted barrier. “When they hear what you did this year?”

“Proud?” said Harry. “Are you crazy? All those times I could’ve died, and I didn’t manage it? They’ll be furious. . . .”

And together they walked back through the gateway to the Muggle world.

This is a beautiful scene. A very interesting one too, it tells us a lot about Harry and Hermione's relationship dynamic.

Harry gives Ron and Hermione his phone number. But the real H/Hr interaction starts when they all get off the train. I like to call this moment a H/Hr moment and not a Golden Trio moment because I don't think Ron is truly a part of this but I'm getting ahead of myself, I'll come back to this later.

Hermione asks Harry if his aunt and uncle will be proud of him for all he's done that year which Harry responds to by saying that they will be "furious" that he "didn't manage" to die.

This is Harry's usual dark humor - joking about dying -nothing's new. But what interests me is Hermione's toleration of this joke. Usually she freaks out and directly tells Harry that his jokes aren't funny - that's something Harry clearly doesn't appreciate. Still, there are a few scenes where Hermione is fine with Harry's dark humor and this scene is a great example of that. Not only does Hermione tolerate his remark, but she also bonds with Harry through an important connection they share — their muggle backgrounds.

Both Harry and Hermione grew up in muggle families unaware of the existence of the magical world of witches and wizards. They were both different from the rest of the world (muggles) and couldn't fit in. They didn't have any friends in school, they were both bullied and were lonely. Even though Hermione wasn't abused like Harry, they still had a lot in common and their backgrounds and experiences in the muggle world formed an indestructible bond between them. This connection is something that only Harry and Hermione share. It's an important connection that we are reminded of multiple times in the story. This is a big part of the reason why they understand each other so well. This bond is deep and very important to H/Hr's relationship. It's a way for them to truly connect on a different level.

This bond comes into play in the ending scene of CoS. We get this sentence to end the book:

And together they walked back through the gateway to the Muggle world.

Hermione accepted Harry's joke and even shared this beautiful moment with him. But what exactly makes this moment beautiful and important? There are many ways the book could've ended but J. K. Rowling chose this one with this specific phrasing. They're going back to the muggle world. They get a moment to embrace their special bond - the fact that they were both raised in the muggle world. That's why I don't think Ron really shares this moment with Harry and Hermione, or at least he isn't able to connect with them on the same level. He will never understand what it's like to be considered a "weirdo" for having magic, he will never understand what it's like to have no friends, he will never understand what it's like to grow up in a world of technology without magic. He may not be able to use magic himself, but he's not really leaving the magical atmosphere that is the wizarding world. Ron will go home to the enchanted burrow full of magical items and watch his parents perform spells and receive all news of the wizarding world (even outside of the Daily Prophet). But Harry and Hermione will have to face the fact that there's no magic around them. They can't cast spells themselves, they can't hang out with other wizards and witches. They will have to disconnect from the wizarding world and be left with homework and the Daily Prophet at most. They will have to be lonely for the whole summer, having no friends or anyone to talk to (Hedwig is the best Harry can get). So it's Harry and Hermione going home together, "walking back through the gateway to the muggle world," bonding over this similarity and sharing a special connection that Ron will never be able to participate in. That's what makes this scene so deep and special.

Overall it's an important moment for Harry and Hermione. Even though they may not always agree with each other when it comes to sense of humor, they will still understand and accept each other. And more importantly, they'll always have a special connection, a bond that no one can share with them, something that no one but only they can understand and bond over. Harry Potter's muggle background isn't only important to the plot, but also to his deep, deep bond with Hermione.

[lucky-katebishop]

What I Read in September 2021

It's been a stagnant month, but I did find a couple favorites :) as usual, composed of mainly Harry Potter fics but there's a spare Modern Family fic in there and a couple crossovers. I think I read about 27-28 fics :)

Harry Potter

Family Relations by OxfordOctopus

Plot: In which Harry realizes that not even he's exempt from how interconnected magical families are.

Characters: Harry, Pavarti, Hermione, Ron

Relationships: Hermione & Harry & Ron

Warnings: implied/referenced child abuse

Tags: Desi Potter Family; Desi Harry; Hogwarts third year; red-haired Harry Potter

*complete*

Talking to Thestrals by OxfordOctopus

Plot: In a world where Voldemort well and truly died in ‘81, where there are no Horcruxes, where Harry is sequestered off by a man in a flying motorcycle when he's six, and where the only legacy the most feared Dark Lord left behind was his politics and a heavily scarred child, nobody quite realizes that Harry isn’t okay. Nobody but the leathery creatures at the lake, and the girl who looks at them.

Characters: Harry, Luna

Relationships: Harry & Luna

Warnings: anxiety, dissociation, suicidal thoughts, bullying, implied/referenced child abuse, child neglect

Tags: Sirius Black Criticism; Hogwarts second year; Sirius Black Never Went to Azkaban; AU - No Voldemort;

My Notes: Now, I love Sirius just as much as the next girl, but this is such an interesting look at a man raising a kid when he wasn’t ready and the consequences of that (I relate a tad too strongly)

*complete*

Slytherin Politics by OxfordOctopus

Plot: Abused children don't respond well to power plays.

Characters: Harry, Draco, Theodore Nott, Daphne Greengrass

Warnings: graphic depictions of violence

Tags: violence, broken bones, Slytherin Harry, bullying

My Notes: Harry is so truly terrifying in this fic, it’s wonderful

*complete*

rotten on the inside by cassiopeia721

Plot: Harry's boggart isn't Voldemort, or even a dementor. It's something much worse.

Characters: Harry, Snape, Hermione, Ron

Relationships: Hermione & Harry

Warnings: implied/referenced child abuse

Tags: Hogwarts third year; boggarts; angst; protective Hermione; Hermione is a Good Friend

*complete*

Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell by IamShadow21

Plot: Questions asked, questions unasked, secrets told and secrets kept, trust, devotion, empathy and love. Ron and Harry's friendship, from that first day on the Hogwarts Express, right through until after the Battle. Can be read as a friendship fic, or a ship fic. It's open to interpretation.

Characters: Harry, Ron, Fred, George, Hermione, Arthur

Relationships: Harry/Ron

Warnings: implied/referenced child abuse

Tags: canon compliant; canon-typical violence; friendship, hurt/comfort; protective Ron; Protective Fred; Protective George; gen or pre-slash; platonic cuddling; POV Ron

My Notes: now this could be read as pre-slash, as a relationship, or just good friends, but I am so completely head over heels in love with the idea of Harry and Ron! Best friends to lovers!

*complete*

Best Served Cold by enchantedsleeper

Plot: “C’mon, Freddie,” George says suddenly, sotto voce. “Sooner the four of us get out of here, the better.” It hadn’t been the right moment, as they were exploring the Dursleys’ comfortable house in the dead of night, to plant a well-timed trick or a trap and risk blowing the whole operation – and getting Harry into even more trouble with his sadistic relatives. Better just to get Harry out and away from that place. But two years later, Fred and George got their chance for revenge.

Characters: Harry, Fred, George, Ron, Arthur

Relationships: Harry & Ron; Harry & George & Fred

Warnings: implied/referenced child abuse

Tags: Book 4; Harry is an honorary Weasley

*complete*

east, west, home’s best by taizi

Plot: You can never have too many brothers, Ron decides, for the very first time in his life. And there's always room in the Burrow for another Weasley, even if only an honorary one.

Characters: Harry, George, Ron, Fred

Relationships: Harry & Ron

Warnings: implied/referenced child abuse

Tags: Chamber of Secrets; families of choice

*complete*

live for today, hope for tomorrow by Vennat

Plot: Professors are Hogwarts are a little more observant and a little less likely to allow their students to be in harms way. OR A canon rewrite starting from book two, featuring friendship, angst, and a severe lack of oblivious characters.

Characters: Hermione, Harry, Ginny, Ron, Luna, Fred, George, Snape, Draco

Relationships: Hermione & Harry & Ron; Harry & George & Fred; Harry & Ginny; Luna & The Golden Trio; Harry & Snape; Draco & Harry

Warnings: implied/referenced child abuse; PTSD; panic attacks; blood; vomit; injury; food issues; depression

Tags: friendship; Harry has a saving people thing; mentor Snape; BAMF Harry; Smart Harry; canon rewrite; angst; Dumbledore bashing; Book 2; Harry is a Good Friend; Harry is Bad at Feelings

*complete* [part of a series; hasn’t been updated since 2020]

The Closest Distance Between Two People by StartledStarfish

Plot: In Harry's third year, no dementors boarded the Hogwarts Express in search of Sirius Black. Remus Lupin, the new defense professor, slept the whole way there. He did not wake to cast a patronus. Harry never passed out. Never heard his mother scream. Never saw the flash of green light. Never felt the unspeakable cold drain all the happiness out of him. So when Harry’s turn came to face the boggart, his greatest fear could not be a dementor. Harry blinked and looked up into the smiling face of Albus Dumbledore.

Characters: Harry, Ron, Remus, Dumbledore, Vernon, McGonagall

Relationships: Harry & Ron; Harry & Remus

Warnings: implied/referenced child abuse; childhood trauma, child neglect

Tags: boggarts, dementors, Dursley Family Bashing; Dumbledore Bashing; healing; angst with a happy ending; Ron makes sure nobody’s sad for long; friendship; laughter

*complete*

Grey Space by noaacat *favorite*

Plot: In 1991, Harry Potter begins his time at Stonewall High, unaware that he is anything more than a boy prone to freakish accidents. When he turns fourteen, he will receive a letter that will change his life. He will learn he is Harry Potter, and be invited into a world where belonging is his birthright. Until then, he stumbles on, two steps forward and one step back, out of the cupboard and into the life he was never meant to have.

Characters: Harry, The Dursleys, Dumbledore, lots of muggle OCs

Relationships: none

Warnings: implied/referenced child abuse; implied/referenced homophobia; child abuse; child neglect

Tags: AU: Hogwarts Starts Late

My Notes: This one! Is so good! The worldbuilding alone is amazing and the author really did make me immersed in the small sleepy town of Little Whinging. Please, if you read any fic on this list, read this one! It’s so good! Instant favorite!

*complete*

Iron by belleslettres

Plot: Draco also has a penchant for shirts with fiddly collars and cuffs and will not even entertain the notion of going anywhere looking like anything less than perfection. But Harry, who will do almost anything for Draco, refuses to iron them. “My aunt used to make me do all the ironing,” Harry says. “I hated it.”

Characters: Harry, Draco

Relationships: Draco/Harry

Warnings: implied/referenced child abuse

Tags: fluff and angst; post-war; Epilogue what Epilogue; fluff; domestic fluff

*complete*

All That Stands in its Path by thebiwholived

Plot: "An old soul, people might say, and Molly has never quite been sure what such a person would look like, until the day her family meets the Boy Who Lived in a dingy train station on the way to school." Molly Weasley's perspective on the summer Harry Potter comes to stay.

Characters: Harry, Molly, Weasley Family

Relationships: Harry & Molly Weasley

Warnings: implied/referenced child abuse

Tags: canon compliant; book 2

*complete*

To See More Clearly by JellyShark

Plot: Harry didn't make it out of Privet Drive after blowing up Aunt Marge. He is alone, locked away, forgotten. To make things worse, his magic is changing, morphing into something unknown and terrifying. Harry returns to Hogwarts a changed boy, unable to hide the effects of his time with the Dursleys. His Third Year dawns, bringing with it a man who feels like home, a Hufflepuff Prefect, and a dog who reminds Harry of a time when he was loved.

Characters: Harry, Remus, Ron, Snape, Sirius, Hermione, Luna, Cedric, Neville, McGonagall

Relationships: Sirius/Remus; pre Cedric/Harry; Remus & Harry; Hermione & Ron & Harry; Cedric & Harry; Sirius & Harry

Warnings: implied/referenced child abuse

Tags: Harry Needs a Hug; Harry is an Empath; Smart Harry; Magically Powerful Harry; Mentor Remus; flawed but well-meaning Dumbledore; book 3; book 4; Snape gets worse before he gets better; angst; hurt/comfort

*incomplete* [last updated August 2021]

Holidays by diogxnes

Plot: While his housemates discuss the upcoming holidays, Harry cannot help but think of how he never experienced a real Christmas with the Dursleys. Ron notices.

Characters: Harry, Ron, Lavender Brown, Seamus Finnigan

Relationships: Harry & Ron

Warnings: implied/referenced child abuse

Tags: book 1; missing scene; canon compliant; emotional hurt/comfort; hurt/comfort; Ron Weasley is a Good Friend

*complete*

Closing In by silver_fish

Plot: Harry supposes he’ll never know how they learned about the cupboard under the stairs. He also supposes he’ll never know how they managed to make him so afraid of it, all these years later.

Characters: Harry, Hermione, Ron

Warnings: implied/referenced child abuse, claustrophobia, implied/referenced torture, codependency, trauma, panic attacks, PTSD, therapy

Tags: post-war; hurt/comfort; touch-starved; guilt; Harry centric; false memories

My Notes: This one made me emotionally exhausted but it’s written super well

*complete*

Adjustments by Velvet_Riptide

Plot: With the Second Wizarding War over, Sirius is more than excited to put everything behind him and raise Harry as his own. However, he and Remus begin to notice odd and troubling behaviors from Harry. Without answers from the source, Sirius turns to Harry's previous guardians--Molly and Arthur Weasley--and learns Harry is still making adjustments from his time with the Dursley's.

Characters: Harry, Sirius, Remus, Molly, Arthur, Hermione, Ron

Relationships: Sirius/Remus; Hermione/Ron; Remus & Harry; Sirius & Harry

Warnings: implied/referenced child abuse; childhood trauma; PTSD

Tags: hurt/comfort; coparenting; Harry lived in the Burrow for several years with the Weasleys before moving to 12 Grimmauld Place;

*complete*

Two Things by TheDivineComedian

Plot: Harry is only four years old and the Dursleys are already mean.

Characters: Harry, Petunia, Vernon, Dudley, imaginary Lily, imaginary James

Warnings: implied/referenced child abuse

*complete*

How to be happy by TheDivineComedian

Plot: The Patronus charm requires a happy memory. Harry Potter doesn't have many, and the Dementors get Sirius, after all. But the story is far from over.

Characters: Harry, Remus, Sirius, Ron, Hermione

Relationships: Harry & Sirius; Harry & Remus; Remus & Sirius

Warnings: major character death; implied/referenced child abuse

Tags: creepy; heartwarming; dementors; Hogwarts third year

My Notes: this one is a fucking doozy good lord (the tags say heartwarming but w h e r e)

*complete*

Knowledge is a Rose by Magi_Silverwolf

Plot: When Harry discovered that he had a name, he clung to that information and all that it entailed. After learning more information about his past, nothing and everything changed.

Characters: Harry

Warnings: implied/referenced child abuse; physical abuse; verbal abuse; mental abuse

Tags: emotional hurt; identity issues

*complete*

No Love for the Wicked by VigilanteVampire4311

Plot: Harry Potter was the Boy-Who-Lived. The Golden Boy. The Chosen One. But it turns out when you run head first into an unknown magical artifact and end up in a void, none of that matters. Now he's in a different time with familiar strangers who just can't seem to understand the new transfer student, Harrison Miller. With a Defense teacher he can't let his guard down for a second around, the Marauders hounding the 'mysterious' new Slytherin, and his housemates who cannot fathom a muggleborn being among them, Harry has to wonder whether fate hates him or if he is really a trouble-making freak like the Dursleys always said.

Characters: Harry, James, Lily, Sirius, Remus, Regulus, Snape, Tom Riddle, Pomfrey

Relationships: Harry & James; Harry & Lily; Sirius & Harry; Remus & Harry; Regulus & Harry; Harry & Tom Riddle; Pomfrey & Harry

Warnings: graphic depictions of violence; implied/referenced child abuse; possessive behavior; depression; non-consensual touching

Tags: The Veil; Slytherin Harry; Marauders are kinda assholes; Tom Riddle is not Voldemort yet; Severus is so done; alternate universe; angst; hurt/comfort; bullying; time travel; Marauders Era

My Notes: so far with 7 chapters in, we haven’t yet gotten to Harry interacting with anyone from the past but it’s still written really well

*incomplete* [last updated September 2021]

The snake in the daffodils by SpicyReyes *favorite*

Plot: Harry follows Sirius through the Veil of Death, and stumbles out on the other side of the Mirror of Erised, under a strange spell and stranded in an unfamiliar Hogwarts.

Characters: Harry, Remus, Regulus, Harry, Ron, James, Lily, Sirius

Relationships: Regulus/James; Sirius/Remus; Draco/Harry

Warnings: graphic depictions of violence; discussions of suicide; discussions of self-harm; suicidal ideation; implied/referenced child abuse

Tags: universe jumping; Hogwarts fifth year; misunderstandings; miscommunication; basically everyone thinks harry wants to die but he is actually just hella confused

My Notes: so, so good! And if you like this one I recommend The Devil’s White Knight which is really similar in concept

*incomplete* [last updated 2020]

been waiting a lifetime (to be with you) by justprompts

Plot: The next time he woke, Potter was shaking him awake. Just, just not the right one. He had hazel eyes for one, and class. This was not Harry Potter. This was - Well, he had just woken up and who accepts the delightfully altering time-related facts of life right as they wake up?

Characters: Harry, Dumbledore; Peter Pettigrew; Prewett Twins; Marlene McKinnon; Sirius; Remus; Lily; James; Draco; Alice & Frank Longbottom; Regulus; Draco

Relationships: Draco/Harry; James/Lily; Sirius/Remus; Marlene McKinnon/Dorcas Meadows; Alice/Frank Longbottom; Regulus & Sirius; Regulus & Draco

Tags: time travel fix-it; Marauders Era; Horcrux hunting; everyone lives/nobody dies; master of death Harry; light-hearted; POV multiple; Harry doesn’t need to be dark/evil to be master of death; irregular and slow updates; mutual pining

*incomplete* [last updated May 2021]

The Gospel Truth by twentysevensummers

Plot: When Harry arrives at Number Twelve Grimmauld Place with a black eye, he has more trouble than expected keeping the truth from Sirius.

Characters: Harry, Sirius, Remus

Relationships: Sirius & Harry

Warnings: referenced/implied child abuse; child neglect

Tags: book 5; hurt/comfort; angst; Harry needs a hug; good godparent Sirius Black; number 12 grimmauld place

*complete*

o children, lift up your voice by orphan_account

Plot: "i don't know if they could've put a flap in the door of the cupboard, now that i think about it," harry laughs nervously. "dunno if it would've fit onto it. since it's smaller than the bedroom door." hermione and ron's heads both shoot up. "what?" ron asks. "excuse me?" hermione says.

Characters: Harry, Ron, Hermione

Relationships: Hermione & Harry & Ron

Warnings: implied/referenced child abuse

Tags: friendship; slight canon divergence; character study; second war with Voldemort; physical affection; lots of hugs

My Notes: this one is so good and if you can get past the fact that the author doesn’t capitalize anything, you’re good to go (although it was difficult to get past that at first for myself)

*complete*

Muggle Management by LadyWinterlight, NerdyKat

Plot: What happens if Hermione notices signs of abuse in Harry during first year? The Wizarding World may not have laws against it, but the Muggle World certainly does...

Characters: Harry, Hermione, Mrs Granger, Mr. Granger

Warnings: implied/referenced child abuse

Tags: family

*complete*

Harry Potter & Other Fandoms

Masked Men and Where to Find Them by tinyrose65

Fandoms: Harry Potter & Daredevil & MCU

Plot: Harry Potter moved to Hell's Kitchen because she wanted a fresh start: time away from the spotlight, where she could focus on being the best Healer she could be. Trust the unconscious man in her dumpster to go and complicate things.

Characters: Harry, Matt Murdock

Relationships: Harry/Matt; past Harry/Draco

Warnings: past domestic abuse; implied/referenced child abuse

Tags: female!Harry

My Notes: this is the first in a series and the second one is also incomplete but they’re both very good and the second one has Jessica Jones!

*incomplete* [last updated 2016]

Magic and Masks by Akoia

Fandoms: Harry Potter & DC Comics

Plot: Harry Potter is anything but normal, thank you very much, he just didn't hold such nonsense as that. Follow him on his adventures through the Wizarding world and muggle world as he struggles to understand who he is, and fight the destiny that's been chosen for him.

Characters: Harry; Dick Grayson; Jason Todd; Bruce Wayne; Alfred Pennyworth; the Dursleys

Warnings: implied/referenced child abuse; canon typical violence

Tags: fluff and angst

My Notes: this is a series with six parts!

*incomplete* [last updated 2020]

Modern Family

Breaking & Entering: (The Start Of) A Love Story by dollsome

Plot: "Oh my God," Mitchell says, "this is insane." It is, for the record. It is actually ... insane.

Characters: Mitchell, Cameron

Relationships: Mitchell Pritchett/Cameron Tucker

Warnings: none

Tags: none

*completed*

[wellpresseddaisy]

Letters from Petunia (Part 2)

Dumbledore -

Arrived at safe house. Aunt and cousin secured. Uncle secured at sister's with guard. Being a real bastard about it too, he is.

M

Aunt Petunia,

Thank you. No one has ever told me so much about mum. I hope you and Dudley are settled in. I don't know much about the property, but everyone said it was comfortable and secure. I'm sorry you had to move. I'll try to write more later - it's a good thing I know how to clean where I am. I can't say anything else about it, but we're kept on the hop.

Is the Snape you mentioned Severus Snape? If that was his name, he's my Potions professor and he hates me.

Harry

_______________________

Mr. Snape,

I have heard from my nephew that you are one of his Professors. I would remind you, should you feel the need to be an utter bastard, that I have more where this came from, Dark Lord Regretto.

Petunia Dursley

P.S. We both know James Potter was the largest arsehole ever to walk the wizarding world. His son is not. I can't say much more, but Harry has been the opposite of spoiled in my home. I am working to rectify this and to treat him normally. I would ask that you do the same. You may wish to have yourself checked for spellwork.

Severus stared down at the photograph Petunia had enclosed in the short letter. It was the three of them - Lily tied to a drainpipe in the Evans' back garden; Petunia wearing a length of old curtain as a cape, brandishing a stick as the Light Lady Armbreaker (no matter how many times he and Lily complained, she refused to change it as she was an Armbreaker for Justice); and his younger self as the Dark Lord Regretto, wearing the other curtain and one of Mrs. Evans' old brassieres as a helmet.

The photograph went quickly into his robes. It could not get out. For one, he had a reputation to keep up and the Dark Lord Regretto had no part in it. For another, Minerva would make the most appalling jokes for the rest of his natural life. Which, if the Dark Lord got wind of his true allegiance, would be quite short.

He would have to discuss this new wrinkle with the Headmaster.

_________________________

Harry -

I've had a great deal of time to think, lately, and after my first letter to you it was suggested that you might not mind more. Your reply confirmed that. I didn't realize no one had told you of your mother. She had quite a large circle of friends who ought to have found you by now. They've only had years.

Unless you've decided to follow Lord What's His Name and level threats against us or have the power to send Dementors after people, you are not at fault. The only fault belongs to his followers and they should, honestly, be ashamed.

Dudley and I are settling in as well as we can. The cottage is very comfortably appointed. We both appreciate that you would allow us the use of a Potter property. Dudley has taken up jogging the perimeter and swimming in the ocean. Life with limited electronics may be very good for him.

I expect that you will also stay put where you're safe. I received notice of your upcoming hearing and Dudley and I will be attending. We're technically Squibs, which neither of us knew until recently. I will be pleased to let the Wizarding court system know precisely how I feel about them targeting my nephew, who performed underage magic in front of those who already knew about it. This is clearly shaping up to be a farce if the disgusting rag of a newspaper is anything to go on.

Wizards will bang on about the superiority of the Wizarding World when they don't even have ethical standards for journalists! I've half a mind to write a strongly worded letter to the editor or engage a solicitor. I certainly haven't given my approval for them to print anything they like about you.

I haven't been a good guardian to you, Harry, but that will change. I will not allow your name and reputation to be dragged through the muck. Not after I heard about what you've done at school to keep others safe. (We will be discussing your tendency to jump into trouble the way you do. Or you will discuss it with someone. I won't have you endangering yourself every other Thursday. It makes adequate study time difficult.)

One more thing - we have discovered that we were under some kind of spell. It is difficult for me to understand, but I believe it was put on our home in good faith. Unfortunately, the original intention twisted and all our negative feelings were amplified. Perhaps if someone had spoken to me as if I were actually worth their time it would have been different. The first feelings we had after picking you up off the doorstep were terror and grief and anger. Terror - well, you were practically blue with cold - and my sister had just been murdered. That's what the...Charm latched onto.

I hope we may move forward, Harry.

Your Aunt Petunia

P.S. As I am apparently your guardian in both worlds now, I have received post from the wizarding bank. They are asking for a meeting with me to discuss your accounts. I'll only go if you give me leave to do so. I was an accountant before I married Vernon and I was good at my profession. If you wish, I can make certain everything is in order. I believe I may like these Goblins. They seem very businesslike.

[sweeethinny]

Grades

I love writing about James, and I've wanted to write this for a long time, and thanks to @startanewdream I had the idea of how to do it

thanks to @deadwoodpecker for helping me with this one shot and I'm sorry for any mistakes ahaha

tell me what you think!

AO3

---

Summary: They are not at home when the bird arrives with James' OWL grades. or James Sirius is concerned about his future and the parents' reaction to his idea

read bellow the cut :)

They are not at home when the bird arrives with James' OWL grades.

On that vacation they decide to stay in England, but Harry and Ginny manage to take a short break so they can spend a day at their country house, enjoying the waterfall, fishing, relaxing in the silence far from the city and any other human besides them. 

Teddy and Albus go out to study the birds that fly by, James and Ginny continue to do their morning training, but now, just running to the waterfall and coming back, and Lily and Harry are responsible for the meals - which has been pretty late almost every day, since everyone has taken the opportunity to sleep more than normal.

It’s been an amazing few days. Yesterday's fishing yielded a generous dinner, and today Harry thought he would risk having a barbecue; maybe Teddy would help him fetch firewood and they could chat about Teddy’s not-so-bright idea to move out of the apartment he shared with roommates and live alone.

Harry had all day planned in his head, but he wake up earlier than usual by some father's instinct and go to prepare breakfast for everyone, even baking a chocolate cake that Albus had asked him to make last night. Everything was normal, until the gray owl with a puffy chest, landed on top of his newspaper on the table.

It was the day, Harry thought, looking at the date on the newspaper and then at the owl again, watching that paper that was wrapped around her paw. That was why he was feeling worried and anxious, today the result of James' OWL was coming out. OWL’s that for the letters that Lily sent, James had dedicated himself entirely.

The boy was smart, much more than he let on, and neither he nor Ginny expected anything less from the boy, but James was still a 15-year-old who occasionally got involved with girls and spent his time trying to understand them. Harry felt a hint of concern deep in his heart. They never talked about the options that his son wanted to pursue as a career, but everyone always pointed out that he would always have the Ministry doors open for him; whether to be an Auror, or to work in another Department.

Harry didn't know if that thought pleased him, but if that was what James wanted, he could only accept it.

Facing the owl then, he gave her the finger to nip it a little before undoing the knot and taking the paper with shaking hands, anxious as if it were his notes. When free, the owl flew to the owlery that he and the boys had built, looking pleased to be able to rest and eat good food. Harry sighed.

Should he wake up James? Should he open and see it before everyone else? Should he expect everyone to be awake? Heavens, no one taught you about it.

Before he knew how to proceed, the oven beeped and the smell of baked cake made Harry wake up for now, dropping the paper along with the other letters that eventually reached them, and set the breakfast table up again

Everyone was still sleeping and outside the sky was still a little cloudy, but it didn't look like it would be cold or rain, which was great for today's plans, Harry thought, spilling the chocolate syrup over the cake and now and then looking at the letter. It was still sealed. 

What if James had failed? He would not like to know that he failed in front of everyone, when the brothers looked at him with such expectation… Albus still looked at James as if he were a great superhero, even though the eldest did not realize how much his brother paid attention to what he said. And Lily was very attached to him, always wanting to be around, clamoring for his attention... No, if he failed, he would hate to know that in front of everyone.

But would James fail? Harry thought, dropping the dirty chocolate pot into the sink, returning to the fresh bread he and Lily had made yesterday afternoon, cutting the slices and preparing the toast. The boy was so smart, never having problems with his grades or because he messed up - too much - in class. Of course, he would not fail.

And even if he failed, Harry would still hug him and support him, because he was there regardless of the outcome.

Now if James got high marks they would have to celebrate in the best way. Maybe he would apparate in town and buy that ice cream that his son loved to eat.

‘’Cakes, pancake, bacon… any special reason for all this?’’ The arms covered in Harry’s gray robe encircled his waist, the long sleeves hiding Ginny’s delicate hands, the head resting on his back.

‘’I just sensed it was an important day.’’ He smiled, making the last toast and looking at her over his shoulder, meeting her with eyes closed. ‘‘James ’notes arrived.’’ And in the next instant, the woman was staring at him with big brown eyes.

''You opened? No, we shouldn't open... Or should we? We shouldn't.'’ Ginny denied, moving away from Harry and going over to where the mail was, taking the paper in her hand. ‘’Of course he did well, but do you think he’s nervous about the result?’’

‘’He doesn’t seem to be. In fact, I don't think he even remembers.’’ Harry admitted, also looking at the closed letter. ‘’Do you want to wake him up?’’ He sighed, anxious as he was, trying not to think too much about the future that James had ahead of him. He was great at Charms and Potions, in fact, even in Astronomy he was always keeping great grades and never seeming to have a hard time understanding. What the boy sometimes lacked was a little commitment, he preferred to spend hours flying and disappearing through the castle, rather than dedicating himself to his studies.

If he tried, he could work in the Department of Mysteries, or even in the Department of Magical Games and Sports.

‘’Yes, I think he’ll be less nervous if I go. You know how sometimes you end up scaring the kids.’’ Ginny laughed, dropping the letter and returning to her husband, who had just put everything under the table, and kissed him quickly.

‘’I was thinking,’’ He spoke in the middle of the kiss, then walked away and walked through the kitchen. ‘’Maybe I’ll give up the barbecue and we’ll have lunch at that restaurant he loves.’’

‘’Let the boy wake up first, love, and then we’ll see what to do.’’ She blinked and left the kitchen, leaving him alone there again.

Through the window, it was already possible to see the blue and almost cloudless sky, a good breeze swayed the trees surrounding the house, the song of the various birds echoing through the woods nearby, while Sir, their dog, chased a squirrel through the backyard, dirty with old leaves and mud, making Harry think that again the animal had tried to catch a fish in the river.

It was good that they were out of the house and away from everyone. Harry loved their family, the Weasleys were everything he ever wanted, but they were also too numerous and as much as James was a much more outgoing boy than he was at that age, Harry thought his son would want some privacy when the notes arrived, which he certainly wouldn't have, since Fred probably also received his notes, as did Dominique.

Everyone should have known that today was the delivery of the OWL results, and Harry thanked them that they had no way to call to see how James had done. At that time, all the children looked very much like him, reserved and preferring a moment alone first, before telling everyone how they had done.

While he waited, Harry sat at the table, looking at all that waiting  food and all the cups and plates. How many times he made the Dursleys' breakfast and hated having to cook for three people he hated, and how he now happily cooked their meals, and waited anxiously for his children to praise him. It was kind of silly, but Harry thought the best part of the day was that, when everyone sat together to eat and talked about everything and nothing.

Last morning, Lily woke up with a series of questions about the most random things possible, and while she helped her father set the table, she made sure not to be quiet and ask everything; what were dreams? Could Sir be a human trapped in his animagus form? How were wizards born? Why weren't all humans doing magic? Was there an afterlife?

Harry did his best to answer each one, letting his daughter ask even more questions with each explanation, and then answer those questions as well. It was a unique moment, Lily was in her first year at Hogwarts, and Harry felt alone when he prepared coffee for only himself and Ginny for the rest of the months. He loved it when his children said everything that came to mind.

Albus also always had questions, but he preferred to just ask them and then answer with his own theories, and then digress about something he did that year. He didn't like to cook with his father, as Lily did, preferring to just sit next to him and talk nonstop, asking Harry about Auror's work, sometimes about his years at Hogwarts, and very rarely, about the War.

James, unlike the two, did not ask many crazy questions, just gossiped about the year, and about students in his class that Harry clearly did not know, but listened with the same pleasure as he do with Lily's questions and Albus's theories. James loved to know what everyone was doing, so now and then he would tell his father about some new couple that had formed that year, or something he had done with his friends. But as much as the older son looked a lot like Harry, less the eyes, the eyes belonged to Ginny, James got along much better with his mom.

Ginny knew how to read James like no one else. They had those hours where they trained together, and Harry suspected that James would tell her all his secrets, because it was not possible that she would always know what was going on with the boy.

Harry would never tell, but sometimes he envied that communication a little.

Albus always went to him to ask for help, Lily was very attached to he too, but as much as James always seemed to want Harry's opinion on things, he would always call his mother first, since he was little. If he had a nightmare, it was Mom who would help him. If he wanted the cookies that were hidden in the tallest cupboard, it was for mom he asked for. And sometimes Harry felt like a jerk for feeling jealous about it, and how they talked in silence several times, even at the table. 

‘’Good morning,’’ James murmured, sighing as he followed his mother into the kitchen as if he were a ghost, and even with the early morning heat, the boy was hiding in a red sweatshirt. ‘’Hm, cake.’’ He smiled, going to sit in his usual place, but pausing when he realized that there was no one else there and that his parents looked at him with great expectation. ''What did I do? I barely woke up, it is not possible that I already got into trouble.’’ Ginny laughed, denying and taking off James' cap before standing next to Harry.

‘’You didn’t do anything, I promise.’’ The two smiled at each other, as they always did. ‘’Just something came for you.’’ She walked over to where the cards were, taking the one that would define a lot in that young man’s life, and handed it to him, then sat on the chair next to Harry. ''Your scores.''

''My... Oh, my.'' James's eyes widened, picking up the letter and seeming to shake slightly, before blinking and looking at his parents. ‘’I may have failed miserably.’’

‘’Or it may have gone very well.’’ Harry reminded him, smiling anxiously. ‘’You don’t know yet.’’

‘’I’ll only know when to open it ... But I may never open it, so we don’t have to deal with it.’’ James dropped the letter on the table, looking at his parents and shrugging. ‘’Let’s tell everyone that I took 12 OWL and no one will ever know.’’

‘’We’ll know.’’ Ginny warned, taking the letter and handing it back to him. ''Open it.''

‘’Why this pressure? Can't I do this later?’’

‘’James, aren’t you anxious? It's your future.’’ Harry smiled at his son, his eyes sparkling. ‘’You may have so many options depending on your grades... The ministry- ‘’

‘’ -The door is open for me, I know.’’ The boy looked down, his cheeks a little flushed as he shrugged. ‘’I know it’s important, I just thought I could eat a piece of cake before I thought if I’m going to be a successful man, or a failure.’’

‘’It’s not just what will define you,’’ Ginny said, calm down. ''You are much more than a grade, but now, that grade is important to help you know which way you want to go.'' They were silent, Harry almost starting to bite his nails with such anxiety, then, finally, James sighed and pick up the letter again.

‘’I don’t even know what I want to do.’’ He said.

‘’There’s a sea of options.’’

‘’A sea of options at the Ministry.’’ James countered Harry, still not looking at his parents, staring at the paper as if he wanted to burn it with the force of a look.

‘’Well.. yes.’’ Harry shrugged, not quite sure what his son was getting at with that. ‘’There are other places where you can work.’’

‘’You might want to be an auror,’’ Please don’t, Harry thought, his protective instinct burning in his chest just at the thought that his son would see half of what he had seen in all his career years. ‘’Working with alchemy, with spells, in the newspaper. There are many places to work, depending on your grades.’’

‘’Yeah… it might be.’’ James smiled, calmly opening the letter, as if he wanted to postpone it as long as he could.

‘’Jamie ... what’s wrong?’’ He asked, concerned as any parent would be to see his son so discouraged about his future.

‘’What if I don’t want to be any of this?’’

‘’Any of.. what?’’ Ginny raised her eyebrows, also looking concerned and curious.

‘’What if I don’t want to work at the Ministry? Or with spells, or... what if I don't want any of that?’’ He pointed to the semi-open letter, looking even a little desperate. His brown eyes were colder than Harry had ever seen them, almost as if James felt pain in admitting that. ‘’What if I don’t want to be anything that everyone says? Are you two going to be mad?’’ His eyes shone with tears that soon disappeared, making Harry’s heart break into a thousand pieces.

‘’What do you mean by that?’’ Ginny whispered, for the first time, also not seeming to understand James.

‘’Everyone always says that I should be an auror like dad, or work in some department, that the Ministry will always be open to me, but... what if I don’t want to? What if none of those notes are really important to what I want to do? ’’

‘’And what do you want to do?’’

''I want to... fly.'' James whispered, and this time a tear escaped his eyes. ‘’I don’t see myself in an office like you dad, sorry, I...’’ More tears came on and on, even when he tried to dry his eyes and seem to swallow his tears. ''I want to play, like mom, and I know that maybe it will disappoint you, but- '' Harry didn't hear the rest, his aching heart in his chest making him get up and go to James, hugging him tighter than he remembered to have done in the past few days.

‘’James, never say that again, please.’’ He murmured, holding the boy close to him, looking at Ginny who was sitting with wide eyes towards his son, before blinking and standing up to hug him too. James continued to cry in Harry's chest like a child who had fallen from the tree, squeezing his father's waist as if he was afraid he would disappear.

Harry wondered when he hinted that he would be disappointed if James wanted to pursue a Quidditch career or some other. He wondered where he went wrong to make his son think like that.

''I'm sorry if I made you think that, but it's not true James.'' Harry continued, stroking the boy's hair. '’Look at me.'' The son did, pulling his head away from his father's chest and staring at him, crying red brown eyes.

James was not a boy who hid feelings, Albus was, James was much more sentimental than Lily at times, but Harry hated to see him cry. He preferred to see the boy fighting with his siblings, or with them, and rolling his eyes, than to see him cry.

‘’I’m your mother’s fan number one, what made you think I wouldn’t be yours too?’’ The boy shrugged, lowering his gaze, then looking at his mother.

''I don't know... that time at the Ministry... that wizard said you should prefer to have two Albus, rather than a James, and so I thought... I thought you wouldn't want me to waste my intelligence.'' Harry was silent, the memory coming back to him like a punch in the stomach, remembering how Martin had joked and laughed, and how Harry just smiled politely and walked away from him, angry that anyone would think that. He didn't think James had paid attention, he had just returned from the cafeteria and was arguing with Albus about something they had seen there. Harry should have known that James would listen, should have paid better attention, than having been taken by the anger of someone daring to compare his children, even if only for fun. He should have defended James, but he was so tired of Martin that he just wanted to get out of there and take the two boys to buy Ginny's birthday gifts.

‘’James, Martin is a idiot who doesn’t deserve to be heard by us.’’ Harry took a deep breath, angry with himself. '’I'm sorry, I should have told him to fuck off, but I just couldn't take it anymore and I thought you guys hadn't heard. But I don’t believe what he said, even for a second.’’

‘’You don’t have to worry about that, Jamie,’’ Ginny finally spoke, her cheeks red as if she was trying very hard not to cry. ‘’Never, and I mean it, it will be true.’’ She blinked, her eyes suddenly moist. ‘’Martin knows nothing of what he talks about. Why do you think he is single?’’ The three laughed softly. ‘’You’re our boy, James, you always will be. We would not be happy with two Albus, two Teddy, two James or two Lily. We would not be happy without one of you existing.’’ She wiped the tears from her son’s cheeks, who continued to hug his father as if he were still a child.

‘’And it’s not a waste of intelligence.’’ Harry reminded him. ‘’Professional Quidditch is a lot more complicated than school, and you need to be smart to play. Look at your mom...She’s dumb?’’ James laughed, denying. ‘‘I’m sorry if we made you think that we wanted you to choose one career and that the others didn’t matter. We are kind of stupid sometimes too.’’ James nodded, laying his head on his father's chest again.

''Thank you I love you.''

‘’Hm... what? Can you speak louder? I didn't hear what my teenage son just said to me.’’ Harry smiled, feeling as silly as he heard James calling him dad the first time.

‘’I love you.’’ James said louder. ‘’Even if you’re an old grouch.’’

‘’Hey!’’ Ginny and James started laughing together, looking at Harry who kept his face serious. ‘’We’re going to have lunch, but I don’t think you want to go out with that old grouch.’’

‘’Nah, I don’t care.’’ He disengaged himself, drying his cheeks. ‘’At that restaurant near the mall?’’ James looked at his mom, which hugged him and kissed his cheek.

''Yea. But maybe we should stay at home ... you know how old people tend to get boring when they spend a lot of time outside.'' Harry teased, ruffling the hair of the boy who grimaced and ran his hands through the strands, trying in vain, tidy them up.

‘’I don’t care, I think I can handle the pain.’’ James shrugged, taking the letter again in his hands and finally finishing opening. ‘’If I fail, will we still go there?’’

‘’Yes.’’ Harry wanted to laugh, but he swallowed the laugh and looked at Ginny. ‘’Grades are important to teams, aren’t they?’’

''Yes. They don't like to hire dumb athletes.’’ She shrugged, looking at the letter. ‘’Open, let’s see how you did.’’ James took a deep breath, pulling the paper out of the envelope and they could read;

James Sirius Potter Arithmancy O Astronomy O Care for Magical Creatures O Charms O Defense Against Dark Arts O Divination A Herbology A History of Magic T Muggle Studies O Potions O Transfiguration O Study of Ancient Runes O

‘’You had 9 OWL.s.’’ Harry almost shouted, taking the letter from his son hand so he could read better. ‘’My son is a genius!’’ There was much happiness in his chest, as much as he knew James was smart, there was nothing that had prepared him for that. ‘’A genius!’’ Harry repeated, hugging James even tighter as if he were still a child.

‘’I knew you weren’t just getting into trouble,’’ Ginny hugged the boy too, almost seeming to jump in excitement. ‘’I know you very well, I know you love to do a scale of studies, just like Hermione.’’

‘’I ... I don’t expect that .. And I was getting into trouble, believe me. How is this possible? It's wrong. Dad, it's wrong, it's the wrong Potter.’’ James took the paper in his hands, his eyes big. ‘’Are you sure they didn’t exchange letters?’’

‘‘Of course not, James, you’re the smart one.’’ Ginny kissed her son on the cheek, a smile from ear to ear looking like she wanted to tear her face. ‘’Albus! Lily! Teddy!''

''My boy is a nerd.'' Dramatically, and very happy to be able to contain himself, Harry put his hand on his chest, remembering all the times he received letters from Lily saying that his brother seemed really committed to studying, and how he had thought that perhaps his daughter was being deceived and did not realize that her brother was preparing to do something else. ‘’Your godmother will be so proud.’’

‘’I’m not a nerd! Nerds are ugly.’’ James grimaced.

‘’There are exceptions. Besides, girls like smart guys.’’ Harry blinked, just to laugh at how his son had rolled his eyes and blushed. ''I'm proud of you.''

‘’Thank you.’’ His son smiled sincerely, looking very much like that boy who loved to jump in bed and escape bath time.

Harry realized then how James always seemed to look for his approval in small things, like grades and career, the owl he wanted to take to Hogwarts, among other details that he had never stopped to pay attention to. James was always wanting, in a way, for his father to say he was proud of what he did.

Suddenly, he felt his heart melt between his ribs, the same feeling as when he saw the boy for the first time, soiled with blood and all that white goo, crying loudly enough as if he was irritated that someone had ended his party inside Ginny's belly, so small that Harry even trembled for fear of knocking him over.

''I love you very much, James, very much.'' Harry took advantage of the fact that Ginny had gone to wake the other children, still jumping and talking that her son was a nerd, to be able to say that. ‘’And I’m very happy being your father, really, even when you’re a tough teenager who gets irritated by everything.’’ His son at least blushed in shame. ‘’I’m very proud to be your father, I’m sure you’ll be a great player.’’

‘’Better than mom?’’

‘’Hm... you don’t play in the same position to be a fair competition.’’

‘’Better than you, then?’’ Harry laughed, nodding.

''Without a doubt... But promise me that you will continue to study and dedicate yourself, and that you will at least try not to get into too much trouble.'' The two stared at each other, Ginny's brown eyes shining towards Harry, while James seemed to think about the proposal.

''I will try. Dedicate myself and not get into trouble. But you know how things are, problems find me.’’ The boy shrugged, that confident smile that made Harry get wrinkles and white hair, shining on the boy’s face.

‘’Always the wrong place and the wrong time, right?’’

‘’Yes, it’s impressive.’’ The two sat on the chairs opposite each other, and Harry cut a piece of the cake to serve James.

‘’I know how it is,’’ Harry smiled, remembering his teenage self.

‘‘It’s the Potter heritage.’’ James winked at his father, laughing softly as soon as Ginny entered the kitchen being followed by the other three. ‘’Teddy, you won’t believe... I’m smarter than you...’’

[sociallyanxiouss]

The Sister (Neville Longbottom)

MASTERLIST

pairing : neville longbottom x potter! reader

word count : 1689 words

summary :  you’re the overlooked potter twin, but as you grew older, you grew more graceful and cause people to finally looked at your way, but you didn’t realize that a herbology genius has been looking at you for some time now.

a/n : hi again! it’s been a while, i know. i actually have one last, (not that important) paper left before i settle until graduation. i am currently going through so much change at the moment. i decided to make this a mini series since i wanted to incorporate all the emotions in this and the parts in the future. with that being said, this part of the series might be a little boring since it’s just a tiny filler about the reader’s life and character. enjoy! 

also, there is voldy in this, but there isn’t a war! things after the goblet of fire did not happen!

-

you grew up not shy. frankly, you were the opposite. no, you weren’t the type to embarrass yourself in public or get yourself in trouble, you left that for your brother. 

yes, your brother is the chosen one. the one everyone wants to be friends with, but also the one that often gets into big trouble. at first, it seemed that you gained a lot of friends from just sitting next to your brother, and announcing that you were in fact, her twin, younger by fifteen minutes, sister.

but then you later understood that they weren’t really keen in making friends with you, but more of to get closer to harry. there was a point in time where you told yourself that you were just overthinking it, but then, you soon realized that in all the conversations of yours and your “friends”, they would only talk about harry. 

soon enough, you learnt to just ignore them. since then, it has always been harry this and harry that. 

harry is a great brother, though. he tried to include you in many of his conversations with his “followers” but you soon understood that people didn’t really care about you, but more of your brother. 

you also stayed trying to be a good enough sister. you always took blame for him. even in things as simple a reason to his terrible potions in the potion making class since you knew that professor snape loved to pick on him and you. you took blame for him since you knew that being the sole target by voldermort was hard as it is. 

you didn’t understand why, though. you had survived the killing curse as much as he did, if not more.

from that tragic day of your parents’ death inflicted by by the wrinkly and boney looking man you call voldermort, harry and you were supposed to die from the killing curse, but fate decided that you both deserve to live, and go through the adventures that the wizarding world provided you. 

harry ended up with a lightning bolt scar on the top right side of his forehead, but you had gotten a worse fate. the curse had hit you first, then harry, making you the one who got more of the hit. 

the damage from that day had actually made you almost incapable of doing the most easiest tasks. as simple as walking. that meant that growing up, you took longer to learn how to walk in aa straight line than most people did. 

you also had a tendency to faint really easily, which made life already harder than it is since you and harry had to live with the dursleys. 

this condition you had also was used in the reason to blame yourself for the things that your brother did. for example, if harry’s potion did blow up everywhere because he seemed to always get it wrong, you would say that you just almost fainted. you had to tell them privately, though, since you didn’t want everyone in hogwarts to know.

you having this fainting condition did not faze the dursleys. they actually treated you worst that you had the condition. they said that you made their lives a living hell since you need specific medications and couldn’t eat certain foods. 

when hagrid came and raided your home with the dursleys, he made sure to get two different birthday cakes, one containing ingredients that would not flare up your “sickness”. 

between harry and you, you had more common sense. you knew you had some kind of magical powers since you accidentally said a type of hex to the dursleys. when you told harry that day, he did not believe you, until hagrid came and told him all about it. 

having the condition seemed a lot more bearable sine harry is super helpful with trying to make sure you are constantly comfortable. you both knew that nothing would part you but you soon realized that you did have to part ways since he later became the more known one. 

you both were put into gryffindor but harry seemed to fit the gryffindor “vibe” than you did. he was clearly too brave for his own good and you just hated to get into trouble, making you too “scared” to do certain things. 

fainting every couple of hours also didn’t help you at all. you just couldn’t handle too much stress in fear that your fainting problem would get worst. 

not many knew about this part of you, but your brother, hermione and ron. you always wanted a trio of your own, but you later understood that it was impossible since no one actually wanted to be your friend. 

but you learnt to be independent, and learnt to handle your condition yourself. 

fifth year, a year after the tragic year of cedric’s death, things were slowly going normal. 

since life was going well and normal, harry and you both agreed to make the most out of it. hanging out with friends, doing adventurous things, at least till what you can take, not overstepping your own boundaries.

 growing up in hogwarts from before you were teenager made you realize what you preferred in life. for example, friends, food, crushes. 

it was tough for you to find someone to like, especially since you knew it wouldn’t get far anyways. so what was the point of developing feelings for someone if it was going nowhere.

soon you gave up, but you knew what you preferred in guys. you’d rather talk to the shy, timid, nerdy ones rather than the snobby ones whose friends are only with them because they’re rich.

it was a personal preference, you hated when guys’ egos are bigger than their dicks, you liked the ones that humbled themselves and were a little more on the quieter side. 

this is cliche but you had an eye for the herbology genius once, in your early hogwarts days. soon, you knew you had to keep it on the low and diminish your feelings for him since you knew it would get your nowhere. 

neville longbottom was more of a nerd in his first couple years of school, but he grew to be more brave, to fit more of the grffyindor title and grew gracefully. 

but you could only admire from afar. harry knew about this crush of yours, he is your twin after all, and you couldn’t keep much secrets from him. this also meant that hermione and ron knew too. 

you begged them for days to not make it too obvious, and that you were trying to push the feelings you had for him down far in your heart. 

the older you grew, the healthier you became. now, you were able to go days without fainting. you also found yourself comfortable enough to hang out with your brother’s friends often. you could now say that they were your real friends. 

when your sixth year came about, you also grew to get out of your “shy” shell that you’ve built since joining hogwarts. you also found your identity, seeing what vibe suits you and what you were comfortable with. 

that year, people started noticing you for you and not the fact that you were just your brother’s twin.

now, you were seated in the great hall, opposite of harry and ron, beside hermione. the both of you always had drama to talk about, so soon enough, you just started sitting next to each other everywhere, classes, for meals. it also didn’t help that you two shared a room together. 

you still noticed neville, you could never forget him. in your fifth year, you realized that there was no use in trying so hard to forget him. all you thought about was him. as long as you were being discreet, he wouldn’t know. 

what you didn’t know was that he had always known you, even before everyone did. how could he not, you and harry are the potter twins, for merlins sake. 

he got to see you grew up to be a beautiful woman, too. 

he told himself that he had to grow up and grow brave in order to talk to you, so that was what he did. 

you walked in the great hall, looking for your friends since you woke up a little later than usual. you spotted them talking whilst shoving food in their mouths.

nope, that’s just ron being ron. 

you tied your long dark hair up into a high ponytail using a hair tie you had on your left wrist, walking to your usual seat next to hermione. 

as you were walking, you felt a gaze on you. although that was normal to you now, you felt the need to see the person. you turned your head to look at the culprit, seated a slightly further from you and the trio.

your heart skipped a beat. your eyes caught neville’s stare. 

since you knew how to push your emotions down easier now, you simply smiled and gave him a little wink before sitting down on the bench of the great hall. 

neville, on the other hand, did not take that exchange well. his heart was basically beating out of his chest. did he even see that right? you winked at him. 

“whoa did she just wink at you?” seamus said, seated next to him. 

still stunned, neville couldn’t answer. he could only offer a shrug of his shoulders to show that he in fact, didn’t believe it himself. 

“damn i’m jealous of you, i wish she would wink at me like that.” dean thomas told him. 

seamus nodded his head, agreeing to what the dark skinned boy had just said. 

after eating your breakfast, everyone left for their common rooms, seeing as it was the weekends. 

you sat with your three friends on the couch that was in the common room. you and harry were currently teasing ron and hermione because of their newly found feelings for each other. 

you had your legs on top of your brother’s lap as you sat between hermione and harry, with ron on the floor. 

you couldn’t believe that you had finally found your happy place.

-

a/n : hello! please mind that this is going to be a small series and this is only the first part. i am also super happy to annouce that i am officially done with finals and only have my graduation left! please keep leaving me requests, i will try my best to write all of them as fast as possible. 

TAGLIST

-

@imonlyherecauseimbored @lokilover-39 @evilluciferisevil @misselsbells06 @thatcatsit

[fandom-thingies]

My Complicated Feelings Toward JK Rowling

I think everyone who’s read Harry Potter and likes to talk has written something like this by now. It makes sense, right? She wrote possibly the most influential book series to come out in the last century. For me and many others, those books are an unforgettable part of our childhoods, and it hurts for the person who took us on such a journey of magic and wonder to be so unmagical herself.

So, here’s my take.

I think the thing I hate most about JK Rowling is how close she came to greatness.

There’s a reason her books became so popular, after all. For all her faults, (and there are many) she’s an amazing writer.

Every one of her characters feel like they could walk off of the page at any time and into your life. 

Dudley Dursley with his absorption of how his parents treat Harry and how his friends treat him, with his slow growth throughout the books into a person beyond who he was raised to be.

Molly Weasley with her overbearing mother henning, sometimes harmful but oh so clearly coming from a place of love, and her complete willingness to adopt any child that stands still long enough for her to do so. (Except Fleur)

Narcissa Malfoy with her belief in the horrible things she’s doing, without that stopping her from being entirely willing to do anything for her child.

Sirius Black with his tendency to unintentionally echo the sentiments he was raised with, and the tragedy of him losing his chance to ever truly grow as a person after being thrown in Azkaban for twelve years and then dying so soon after, and his complete, unconditional love for Harry.

I could write essays on any of them, and my point is that while JK’s treatment of certain issues and characters makes me want to hate Harry Potter, her characterization itself is both consistent and magnificently human.

Her world, too, is beautiful.

I first read Harry Potter before I turned eleven, and I was one of many across the nation who awaited my letter with eager anticipation. 

Can you blame me? The world she created filled so many children with wonder, made so many of us want so badly for magic to be real, to be ours- 

It was beautiful, and I hate her for what she could have been.

She had this fully realized system of prejudice that canonically created genocidal maniacs and put them in power every two generations or so, and she had this very realistic way of writing horribly flawed people that pronounces them as people without exonerating them for the awful things she’d have them do, and I can’t help feeling like “the horrors of war”, as well as she wrote it, wasn’t the story her world deserved.

But that’s a big idea to tackle, and I think it will be tackled best if I start small. I’ve spoken now of the beauty of her world, of her characters. Now I’ll speak of what marrs it.

Like I said, I want to start small.

So, let’s talk about the house elves.

TL;DR? Hermione was right. They’re indoctrinated from birth into believing the only thing they’re good for is housework, as well as being raised to abhor any elf who chooses to do otherwise. It’s a neat little self perpetuating system that bears absolutely no similarity in ideology to the mythology JK built it off of, and as such loses the aspect of choice that’s so significant to brownies.

Add to that the socially acceptable abuse, and you’ve got something that looks far more similar to slavery than it does little fairies who come to clean your home and get mad if pay them because they’re doing it as a favor.

And that’s why it’s so concerning, when JK brushes Hermione’s campaigning off in canon so casually.

It’s honestly hard to say when I started to be leery of JK Rowling, except that it was several years before the TERF scandal occurred. I think this was probably one of the earlier areas, though.

The first time I remember wondering if Harry Potter’s greatnesses were in spite of her intentions, rather than because of them, though, wasn’t the house elves.

It was, rather, a different contentious issue in the fandom, and one I’ve always fallen quite firmly to one side of, as someone who’s been bullied myself.

The first time I remember being suspicious of JK’s beliefs was when I realized she didn’t write Snape with the intent for him to be a villain.

Snape is not a person anyone in the fandom seems to be able to agree on. Some see him as a flat, cartoony villain, while some see him as a tortured soul who only did all those terrible things because he was hurting inside, don’t you see? 

Personally, I drew the line at him being a child’s boggart, as well as the time he attempted to kill Neville’s toad, Trevor, because seriously; what the fuck.

It had always been my belief that while him being obsessed with loving Lily motivated him to work on the side of good, it was more like Narcissa’s willingness to betray her cause for her son than anything else, being a sympathetic trait without absolving his cruelty.

Then I realized that a bunch of people (likely including JK) view Narcissa similarly to how they view Snape, seeing both as people who do bad but are good, rather than people who do good but are bad, and I honestly don’t know what to say to y’all.

You know having good traits doesn’t make a person good, right? Being capable of affection doesn’t absolve people of cruelty or make it your responsibility to forgive them and try to get them to change, it just tells them that they can do bad things without being punished for it. 

Do you guys need an abuse hotline? 

Anyway, that’s when I stopped liking JK, since I’ve been bullied myself and seeing her treat such a horrible bully as a good person kinda soured me on her. I’m not mad at her for letting her bullies grow and change- I love Draco’s and Dudley’s character arcs. I’m just mad at her because unlike those two, Snape is an adult and she kinda wrote it like forgiving him was an expectation of Harry, rather than a personal choice (and not an easy one either! Forgiving bullies is hard and it’s not always healthy!)

I’m getting off topic, but I genuinely believe that discussing this kind of thing is important, so I’m leaving that in.

Getting back to what this is actually about, I’m the kind of person who sees potential in things, often before I see the work itself, (it’s why I write fanfiction) and Harry Potter has so much potential it hurts, because so much of it is just wasted.

I said, earlier, that “the horrors of war” wasn’t the story best suited to this world, and I stand by that.

The first reason I believe that is because I don’t think that the black and white morality this kind of narrative often creates was well suited to JK’s writing style. JK has a tendency to put her characters in boxes of “good” or “bad” and as someone who doesn’t really believe in inherent goodness or evil, this will always feel unrealistic to me.

Because in the end, it’s JK’s minor villains, the ones not directly involved with Voldemort’s war, that really shine.

My favorite villains in the series were Umbridge, the Dursleys, Draco Malfoy, and Cornelius Fudge, because they were the villains who felt real, who felt like flawed people making flawed decisions because we’re all fundamentally products of our environment-

These are the villains who stuck with me, who I still want to take and shake because they were the kind of cruelty we’ve all faced.

Voldemort, as the main villain of the story, would have been more powerful if he’d been an amplified version of these people. In fact, the story would have been better in general if Fudge or Dumbledore had been the villain, because the problem with Voldemort is that unlike the good villains in this story, who feel real because we’ve all met people like them, Voldemort is and will always be larger than life.

A genocidal maniac is a villain few of us have faced societally, and one none of us have faced directly.

Also, rather than being a worse version of Umbridge or Fudge, Voldemort is more akin to a worse version of Snape. He’s a tortured soul who does bad things because bad things were done to him, rather than being cruel through his choices, his own agency.

That’s the first reason why “the horrors of war” wasn’t the best choice of a narrative for this world.

The second is that I don’t think JK sees anything wrong with her muggle hating characters.

She clearly thinks killing muggles is wrong, of course. She’s not that bad.

But, well, the muggle characters in Harry Potter are consistently kind of awful.

First there’s the Dursleys, selfish, entitled, egotistical, and cruel to anyone different from them. Then there’s Snape’s muggle father, who was horribly abusive, as well as cruel to anything different from him.

Then there’s the muggle prime minister, who despite being an important figure, is left completely out of the loop for anything concerning wizards, pretty much only used when the ministry needs the muggle news to say or do a certain thing, like when Sirius Black was declared a criminal.

There’s also the family at the quidditch world cup, of whom who only meet the patriarch, a somewhat stupid man who remarks uncomprehendingly on the oddness of wizards trying to assimilate into muggle society, a man who is canonically obliviated ten times a day.

And that’s it, that’s all the muggle characters I can remember. Aside from the Dursleys, none of them are given more than a page or so of screentime, and none of them do anything significant.

No, wait, I did actually forget two.

Hermione’s parents, who are obliviated and sent to Australia when the war starts, because the only thing they could ever do in a war is be victims.

Muggles in Harry Potter are consistently stupid, ineffectual, and cruel to anyone different from them.

Out of the entire massive cast of Harry Potter, there are few enough muggles that I can list them all off the top of my head without googling and the only muggle in the story ever given the all important chance to be kind is Dudley Dursley, who is taken out of the story the moment he stops being an awful person.

I’m sure you see the problem.

The issue with Harry Potter is that JK acts like the problem is solved when muggles are no longer being actively persecuted, when in reality that’s only the beginning of solving the prejudice that plagues her world.

Voldemort is frequently called “wizard Hitler” and I think that’s more accurate than people realize, because as with Hitler, people easily see the problem with Voldemort committing genocide, and they’re fine with working to stop that, but the moment they’re asked to examine their own biases, their own small cruelties and exclusions, the ten thousand cuts they’ve inflicted with their own hands…

The moment people are asked to examine themselves, to look close at the mirror and point to what allowed someone like Voldemort to gain a following in the first place, they turn away and go back to turning a blind eye to the fact that if you don’t address the societal issues that made him gain a following in the first place, there’ll just be another when it’s been a few years and people have forgotten.

In the end, Grindlewald is wizard Hitler. Voldemort and the death eaters are wizard neo nazis.

I’m not Jewish, though, so I’ll let them be the ones to expand further upon this, as many have.

My point here is that JK’s story would have been more powerful if it had been about addressing the issues that underpin the death eaters, rather than killing their leader and acting as if that’ll solve anything.

JK Rowling is antisemetic, racist, and a TERF, among other things, and while I’m glad it shows in her work as little as it does, it does show, and I’m not going to cover that in this because a thousand other people have covered it better than I ever could.

Suffice to say, I’m nonbinary, and I’m glad I was disillusioned with her before I knew she was prejudiced directly against me, because loving her before she said the things she said and did the things she did would have hurt.

The fact that her world shows so clearly the consequences of her beliefs, even in the context of a prejudice that doesn’t exist in our own world…

I guess she’s always been too good a writer for her own good, in the end.