#auror x minister

[superfandomcorp]

Hermione: Harry, will you ever learn to enter the dormitory without making any noise?

Harry: Sorry, Hermione, did I receive a Marauder's Map that says "open doors stealthily"?

Hermione: No, but surely that skill should come with the title of "The Chosen One," don't you think?

Harry: Of course, because defeating Lord Voldemort is not enough, I also have to be an expert in sneaking through doors.

[thelastlynx]

Draco instantly realised: something had gone catastrophically wrong.

It was in Granger’s face; a face he’d come to know more intimately even than his own. The deepness of her eyes beneath the delicate symmetry of her brows, the sharpness of her cheekbones balancing the exciting curve of her lips—features, normally so carefully controlled to give nothing away, betrayed, now, shock.

Panic.

It gripped Draco too, as the unthinkable teetered on the precipice of manifesting.

He reacted swiftly, casting aside the unusual terror clenching his heart like an iron fist. Any other day, Granger would’ve been impressed by his professionalism. Though it wasn’t years of gruelling Auror training propelling him forward. It was a single, solitary thought; a thought echoing through his mind, jolting through his nervous system, and spreading to his limbs where it sparked into action:

Don’t—never—lose her.

So, Draco leapt, heart-first, into mortal danger.

[TAKE NO PRISONERS by thelastlynx and @velvetrebellion. Read the story on AO3]

[dramioneasks]

Constellations of Hope - mangolawyer - G, WIP - “To the mother of my children and light of my life, For as long as I have you and our beautiful children, I have all I will ever need.“ Ten years after the battle of Hogwarts Hermione Jean Granger-Malfoy is the Minister for Magic and content with her life. Until her husband, Auror Draco Lucius Malfoy is at a mission and Hermione feels as her whole world colliding in the aftermath.

[tomriddleslove]

Obliviate.

✩ Mattheo Riddle x Reader angst

Summary: The one where tensions are running higher, and everyone has to pick a side. You promised to stick by one another, but a stupid oath you made when you first met threatens to drive that apart. Alternatively: If you love her, then you have to let her go.

A/N: If you don’t listen to the recommended song when reading this i will fight you 🤺🤺

Song: Goodbye - Billie Eilish

The Daily Prophet

Unrest Brews as Dark Forces Loom

By Rita Skeeter

In a disturbing turn of events, Diagon Alley was rocked by an unprecedented attack last night, sending shockwaves throughout the wizarding community. Witnesses reported seeing a group of hooded figures, suspected to be Death Eaters, descending upon the famous magical thoroughfare with malicious intent.

The Flourish and Blotts bookstore bore the brunt of the assault, with its windows shattered and shelves overturned. Several nearby shops, including Ollivanders Wand Shop and Eeylops Owl Emporium, also sustained significant damage.

"I've never seen anything like it," said Horace Slughorn, a retired Potions Master who happened to be in the area during the attack. "It was pure pandemonium. People were running for cover, spells flying everywhere. It was like a scene out of the darkest days of the last wizarding war."

Ministry of Magic officials were quick to respond to the scene, deploying Aurors and members of the Magical Law Enforcement Patrol to contain the situation. However, the attackers managed to evade capture, leaving behind a trail of destruction and instilling fear in the hearts of many.

The Minister for Magic, Kingsley Shacklebolt, condemned the attack in the strongest terms, vowing to apprehend those responsible and bring them to justice.

"We will not tolerate such brazen acts of violence in our society," Minister Shacklebolt declared in a statement issued this morning. "The Ministry is fully committed to ensuring the safety and security of all witches and wizards, and we will spare no effort in our pursuit of these criminals."

The attack on Diagon Alley serves as a grim reminder of the growing threat posed by Voldemort's followers, who have been emboldened in recent months by reports of their dark lord's rumoured return. With tensions running high and fear gripping the wizarding world, many are left wondering what the future holds in this time of uncertainty.

You frown as you observe Mattheo, watching as he tosses the paper down onto the table in front of you with a huff. The tension in his face has become increasingly evident over the past few weeks, and you've begun to forget what Mattheo looks like when he isn't frowning.

You wrap your arms around his arm, leaning in close to him as you speak quietly.

“Hey. It’s alright,” You reassure, pressing a light kiss to his shoulder. He doesn’t tear his gaze away from the fireplace, a small huff of both frustration and amusement escaping his lips as he clenches his jaw, nodding.

“It’s alright.” He scoffs, chewing on the inside of his cheek.

It’s alright? No, it wasn’t alright. His father was a murderous lunatic who was about to trigger the second wizarding war. He had to sit back and watch his own friend get tortured for hours for failing to complete a task. He can't close his eyes without seeing Theodore writhing in pain on the floor.

Mattheo was expected to fight with them. The time would come, that was for certain. Mattheo would have to stand there, and raise his wand against the people he's shared a dorm with and sat in class with.

Hell, he would be expected to raise his wand against you.

“They always say this, Mattheo. They’ve been saying it for years, and nothing has happened.” You say, but even you can see how pathetic it sounds. Despite your efforts to comfort him, it's clear that his mind is elsewhere, consumed by the looming threat of war and the impossible choices he may soon be forced to make.

Mattheo finally tears his gaze away from the fireplace, his eyes meeting yours. Your breath hitches, the sheer look of sorrow in his eyes enough to shatter your heart into a million little pieces.

"I don't want to drag you into this," he confesses, his voice raw with emotion. "You deserve better than to be caught up in my mess."

Your heart sinks as you realize where this conversation is headed. "Mattheo, please," you plead, the fear in your voice palpable, "don't do this. Don't shut me out."

But he shakes his head, his expression pained. "I have to," he whispers, his voice barely audible. "Remember our promise?"

Mattheo looks up when he sees you sit next to him, a wide grin on your face as you unpack your bag.

He had seen you here and there in the common room. You always seemed to have an impossibly bright smile, far too lovely for the gloominess of Slytherin.

“Riddle.” You hum with a small grin, and he can't help but let a small smile tug at his lips as he looks over at you.

“What's wrong? You’re looking at me as though I’ve grown another head” You tease as you sit down next to him .

Mattheo blinks in surprise as you address him, the warmth of your smile catching him off guard. He's used to being treated with caution and apprehension, especially given his family's reputation and his own reserved demeanor. But your easy manner and genuine curiosity leave him feeling strangely disarmed.

"Nothing's wrong, just lost in thought, I suppose," he replies, a hint of amusement in his voice as he watches you unpack your bag. Despite himself, he can't help but feel a sense of curiosity about you, wondering what it is that draws you to him when so many others keep their distance.

-•-

“Please-” Mattheo pleads in frustration, slamming the door shut behind him as he storms through the empty common room. You follow after him briskly, slamming the door that separates the common room from the dorms closed with a flick of your wand as you corner him.

“What do you mean, please?” You snap, frowning at him.

“Stop-” He says, his movements exasperated as he motions between the two of you “- this! Stop trying to be friends with me! It’s for your own good.” He says, looking up at you.

You let out a dry laugh, a mix of amusement and frustration as you shove him lightly.

“Oh fuck off. So you can kiss me and spend every evening with me but when it suits you we are just friends. You don't get to decide what’s good for me, Mattheo. I choose what I do and who I associate with, and if that hurts me then so fucking be it.” You retort harshly. Mattheo goes to interject but you cut him off.

“No! You don't get to choose when you want to be with me. I want you, Mattheo. All of you. I couldn’t give two flying shits about who your father is, or who you associate with. I'm capable of making my own decisions.”

He remains silent, his expression torn between turmoil and guilt, as your words hang heavy in the air between you. You feel slightly guilty for your outburst and your expression softens, reaching out to hold his hand gently as you speak.

"You know, if you really think it's that dangerous for me to be around you, you could always just obliviate me. Make me forget about you completely."You quip, trying to lighten the mood

For a moment, Mattheo's shock gives way to a burst of laughter, the tension in the room dissipating as he shakes his head in disbelief. "You're impossible," he says, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "But I wouldn't have it any other way."

-•-

You pull back from Mattheo, shaking your head. “No. No, that was a joke.” You stammer, but he turns to you.

“It wasn’t. We spoke about it afterwards. You promised me.” Mattheo says, sternly.

You know he’s right. You only agreed because the idea seemed so laughable. But now it was a reality, and you could see the hurt and disappointment in Mattheo's eyes.

Tears well up in your eyes as you struggle to find the right words, the weight of everything crashing down on you like a ton of bricks. "I love you, Mattheo," you say, more of a plea than anything else. He draws you into him, a strong arm wrapping around you tightly, as though he is scared to let you go. His hand cups the back of your head, pulling your head down to rest on his shoulder as he kisses the top of your head.

“I know. I love you too. That's why we have to.” He murmurs, trying his hardest to not let his voice break.

-•-

It’s not fair.

It wasn’t fucking fair.

Mattheo had just found it. Found his reason for living. Found his reason to keep going when all the odds were stacked against him. You were the air he breathed, the light that lit his life up and the tender hand that soothed him. You were his everything, and you had to be snatched away from him.

He gently raps on the door to your dorm, just to let you know he was about to enter before cracking the door open. You hastily scramble, shoving the book you were writing with under your pillow as you spot Mattheo.

He notices but he doesn't say a thing, no, he can't. Because in a few minutes, it would be as though he never existed to you. He couldn't tell what would have hurt more, you not being able to see him, or you not even knowing who he was. You’d hold his heart in your hands, unknowingly, and he would be nothing but a stranger.

“Not in here, Please, not in here.” You breathe out, your words hitching in your throat as you fight back tears. He nods wordlessly, taking a step back.

“No one’s in the common room. I’ll uh- go there.” He murmurs, his voice hollow and empty as he turns to leave, unable to bear the thought of facing you for what may be the last time.

As he makes his way down to the common room, every step heavier than the last, he can't shake the feeling of emptiness that gnaws at his insides. It's like a void, swallowing him whole and leaving nothing behind but a hollow shell of the person he used to be.

He finds a seat in the furthermost corner, where you both usually sat, facing the fireplace. He watches the embers crackle and dance, not even noticing your presence till you slide up into the seat next to him. He wants to avert his gaze when he sees the tears in your eyes, but instead, he reaches up.

His hands were shaking. Why were they shaking?

He wipes a stray tear from your cheek.

“My wand. Let me go uh-” He blurts , quickly getting up as he looks away. He blinks back tears as he hurries up the stairs. Instead of going up to his dorm, however, he sneaks into yours.

He walks over to your bed, pulling back your pillow. Sure enough, the small book you were so desperate to conceal from Mattheo was there. He looks around and then with a small huff, tucks it into his back pocket. He hurries back downstairs.

Returning to the common room, he sits back down next to you, his hand reaching out to gently intertwine with yours as you sit together in silence. For a while, you don't say anything. You fear that speaking will break this small bubble, where time has frozen and you can just enjoy your last moments together.

As Mattheo gently cups your face, his touch trembling with the weight of what's to come, he feels the soft dampness of your tears against his fingertips. Your eyes, filled with sorrow and pleading, search his for some semblance of reassurance, some sign that this isn't the end.

"I can't do this," he murmurs, his voice barely above a whisper, his heart breaking with every word. "I can't lose you. You mean everything to me. I’m so scared"

Your sobs fill the air around you, the sound like a knife to Mattheo's heart as he struggles to hold back his own tears. He leans in, pressing his lips against yours in a tender, bittersweet kiss, savouring the taste of your lips one last time before it's all gone.

“I love you.” Is all you can muster. It’s pathetic, but it hurts to even think about anything.

You cling to him desperately, your fingers tangling in his hair as though trying to anchor yourself to the present. Mattheo feels a lump form in his throat, the weight of his decision pressing down on him like a suffocating blanket, but he knows that he has to do this. For your own safety, for your own sake, he has to let you go.

His forehead presses against yours, taking in every last moment of intimacy he’s granted. You don't open your eyes, and he's grateful, for he doesn't think he could bear to look you in the eye.

“Obliviate.”

The second after he murmurs the words he stumbles away from you, reeling backwards as though your touch has burnt him. You wouldn't remember a thing about him, not even his name. He couldn’t be close to you anymore.

Mattheo watches as you blink, confusion clouding your features as you try to make sense of your surroundings. You look around the room, your eyes scanning the familiar surroundings with a sense of bewilderment, and for a moment, Mattheo's heart clenches with the hope that maybe, just maybe, you'll remember him. But deep down, he knows that it's futile, that the spell has already taken effect, erasing every trace of him from your mind.

You shake your head slightly, as if trying to clear the fog from your thoughts, before turning and heading up to your bed. Mattheo watches you go, his heart breaking with every step you take away from him, knowing that he can never follow.

But then, just as you reach the top of the stairs, you pause, your gaze flickering back to where Mattheo stands in the corner of the room. And in that moment, you give him a small, absentminded smile, the kind of smile you might give to a passing stranger.

Mattheo's heart lurches in his chest at the sight of your smile. He wants to call out to you, to tell you who he is, to beg you to remember him, but he knows that it's pointless. You're gone, lost to him forever, and there's nothing he can do to change that.

As you disappear, he collapses down onto the sofa, He wants to sob, and for a second he thinks he is, a horrible restictive choking feeling in his throat as he looks down at the floor. He reaches into his pocket, fingers fumbling with the small black book, perhaps the last piece of you he’d truly have.

He finds the most recent entry and wipes away the tears that blur his vision as he begins to read.

Don't be alarmed when you see this. I want you to read every word of this carefully. This is you, that is writing. It is the 26th of June, 1996. You might have felt like you’ve woken up in the common room, feeling a bit disoriented.

You were obliviated. And it was your idea.

When you were that annoying, pestering little kid, you had taken it upon yourself to befriend a boy called Mattheo Riddle. You’ll see him over the next few days, perhaps. He might look at you as though it hurts him to. It most definitely does. He’s devastatingly handsome, with the softest brown curls and the most expressive eyes. I do believe you won't need me to describe him. Really, my love for him is so strong I doubt any sort of obliviate can erase the idea that Mattheo Riddle lives within the recesses of your heart. Everyone had warned you of how dangerous he was, how his father was rumoured to be the Dark Lord and that he was bound to be no good. But you, in your true Slytherin ambition, set out on a mission to befriend him.

And you fell in love. It was impossible not to, really.

He is everything to me. He was everything to you. He is the most brilliant boy I’ve known. Far too many people gave up on him early. He’s beyond just being incredibly intelligent. He feels. And that’s rarer than you might believe. For someone who was subjected to such horrible things growing up, he is tender. Do not let his bruised knuckles and split lips fool you.

Now, more than ever, he will struggle. He believes you are fully not aware of him. But with this, I hope you are.

Be there for him. Do not tell him about this. You were awfully good at forcing your way into people's lives. Do that for him now. Make him think it was a coincidence. Be there for him, and don’t let his stubbornness fool you. Merlin knows he will be stubborn. He is simply scared, and you mustn’t let that deter you.

People will often compare their lovers to the sun. Bright, warm, near perfect. Mattheo is the moon, casting a gentle glow in the darkness, guiding you through the night. He may not shine as brightly as the sun, but his presence is no less mesmerizing, no less essential.

You had always preferred the moon more, anyway.

Take care of him.

You stupid girl. You stupid, selfish girl.

Mattheo's hands tremble as he reads the letter, his heart constricting with every word, every line. It's like a knife to his heart, the pain of knowing that even in a situation like this, you still found a way to look after him, to care for him, to love him.

Tears blur his vision as he reads on, each word cutting deeper than the last. The book, filled with pages of recollections of the time they spent together, feels like a cruel reminder of everything he's lost, everything he can never get back.You had nearly filled the whole book, addressed to yourself with worries and letters in the hopes of getting your obliviated mind to fall back in love with Mattheo. To remember him, and to negate the whole idea of obliviating yourself by leaving this book for your future self.

And you did all of this just because you wanted to look after him.

It hurts to breathe, to even entertain the idea of going to bed tonight knowing that the love of his life sees him as nothing but a stranger. And in his hands, he holds the thing that could do the impossible, that could somehow reverse it all.

The very selfish part of him wants you to see the book. He wants to slip upstairs, and hide it back under your pillow, and let you find the words you addressed to yourself.

But he couldn’t. He could die far more happily knowing he’s not leaving you behind, no. Really, you were never his, the two of you forcing destiny in the opposite direction, living on borrowed time. Now he has to face the consequences of it all, and if he can stop you bearing the brunt of it, then he’s made no mistake.

He places the book down on the table, and doesn’t think twice about his actions.

“Incendio.”

[holdupjack]

Time Away From You…It Kills Me

——————

Pairing: Hermione Granger x Fem!Reader

AU: Minister Hermione

WARNING: Slight angst to fluff

——————

Third Person P.O.V:

Hermione sat in her office as her secretary paced around the room, talking about 'budget meetings' and the 'Wizarding Ball' coming up.

The Minister didn't pay much attention as she stared off into space, her mind preoccupied with thoughts of her wife.

Which wasn't unusual, but these thoughts were from stress and worry or fantasies.

Y/n had recently become an official Auror after being a Jinx Remover for many years. She was told that she would be great in both of these professions, but Y/n knew the high risks of chasing after bad guys.

Also, Y/n and Hermione had just moved in together at that point, so she wasn't in a rush to lose any time with her girlfriend at that moment.

Yet as years went by, and the couple had shared their last names, Y/n began to bore from her nine-to-five job.

So, she sat down with the new Minister of Magic at the time and explained her reasoning.

Hermione has always supported her lover, even then. But that didn't mean the horror stories that Harry had shared over the years, didn't seep into her mind.

Luckily, Harry had asked to become partners, to be a mentor of sorts. Yet, he had told Ginny that he would probably make her his permanent companion since he had always enjoyed her company.

Two months ago, they were sent on an investigation with connections to a Dark Wizard named 'Matthew MacGiolla'.

Hermione knew of this threat since she became the Minister a year ago, and it wasn't surprising that half of the Law Department was on this case.

Yet, she was surprised that they had allowed her wife, a newbie, to go on such an important investigation.

Ok, maybe she was hoping that they would have given her a cut-and-dry crime. One that she could finish in a month, but come home at night.

…

Hermione missed her Y/n.

So much.

They'd never been apart for so long before, not even during their school years together. She knew that distance was part of the job, but usually, it was only a week to a month long.

When month two rolled around, communication had disappeared. Hermione had called, only to go straight to voicemail, and she didn't know where they were to send an owl.

And Y/n has been silent on her end.

Ginny had comforted her one night, after the already stressed woman, didn't have her partner to cry to. The Potter told her that it was normal for these kinds of high-priority cases to take longer than usual, and for communication to stop completely.

The ginger said that Harry always told her that 'no news, is good news'. Hermione didn't agree, but it's not like she had much choice in the matter.

But now Hermione sat at her desk, her assistant had given up on grabbing her attention, and left the woman to her own devices.

The former Gryffindor dazed off into the corner of the room, her mind thinking back on their first date.

Then their first kiss.

When they first...tangoed.

(A/N: I love that euphemism for sex, makes me laugh...every time)

Their first apartment.

Their Wedding.

Every first they've had together.

Hermione finally left the train of thought after a while and looked back at her paperwork, just staring at it with no real motivation.

Her worry and sadness crept around her eyes like shadows, until a single tear drop fell onto her desk.

"Dammit," she whispers out harshly as she turned her chair towards the wall behind her and tried to wipe away the innumerable droplets.

Hermione never thought she'd be one of those wives who couldn't handle their spouse being away for work.

She never understood why they felt so lonely, but now she undoubtedly knows the reason. Her Y/n had always been there for her, even before they started dating in the fifth year.

She never felt alone.

Now, Hermione was feeling as though she was standing in a room packed with people, but everyone had their backs to her.

It's weird not having someone to catch eyes with or a hand to hold at functions. A part of her knew that her Y/n was feeling the same way, Hermione knew her wife better than anyone. They have been by each other's side for the last decade now, it would be surprising if she didn't.

Y/n was usually the one to seek out her lover when they went to parties or family events after being separated. She always explained that she 'missed her voice' or 'wanted to hold her hand'.

Hermione now understood the needy nature, and she was pretty sure that she wasn't going to even let go of Y/n when she came home.

Home...it was too empty to call it that.

"I'm going home" she announced when she heard her assistant walk back into her office.

It was quiet for a second, Hermione not even turning around to meet their eyes. Their footsteps came closer, and she saw a figure squatting down beside her chair from the corner of her eye.

"Well, can I walk us home then?"

Her eyes shot beside her to find her wife staring at her with a soft smile. Y/n's hair was longer, her eyes held a very tired look, and she now sported a fresh cut on her chin.

But, Y/n still looked at her like she was the only person that mattered in the world. Hermione's eyes showed the same and more.

"My love" Hermione choked out as she flung herself into her one and only's arms. Y/n welcomed a loving tackle from her wife, and let them both tumble onto the carpeted floor as papers from the minister's desk scattered every which way.

Hermione's lips found her lover's face and painted it with her nude shade of lipstick. Y/n tried to return the love, but her wife couldn't halt her onslaught of pure emotion.

The Minister's hands grasped the sides of Y/n's face when she finally prized herself with a much-needed kiss.

Y/n hummed happily, having missed the feeling of her favorite woman on top of her, and their lips trying to stay connected.

Hermione eventually pulled away a good while later, their lips puffy from the friction, and their hands sneaking under each other's shirts.

Thankfully, Hermione's assistant had left as soon as she saw Y/n walk into the lobby. She knew there was either going to be some rated 18+ stuff, or Hermione was going to kill her.

And she didn't want to be present for either.

(A/N: no smut this time, I'm tired 😔)

——————

Hermione and Y/n lay on the couch in the office, they held onto one another desperately. It was quiet as they had a blanket wrapped around them, Hermione whispering sweet nothings into her wife's ear.

The office was locked, the blinds were shut, and the lights were off. They wanted to make sure this moment stayed intimate.

"If this is how you're going to greet me, maybe I should go M.I.A more often" Y/n teased as Hermione rolled her eyes and kissed her forehead tenderly.

"If you do, I'll clock you next time" Hermione grumbled, to which Y/n snickered against her collarbone and gave a small peck.

"So, do you want to explain to me how you got this new scar?" Hermione asked as she lifted her wife's chin and carefully ran her finger over the healing gash.

"It's stupid" Y/n sighed as she looked away in embarrassment, to which Hermione chuckled and made her look back.

Y/n had never been the most graceful in their relationship over the years, even when they were just friends at Hogwarts. She tripped, fell, slipped, and buckled all the time.

Hermione sometimes wondered how she was still functioning after all the unwilling self-inflicted damage she'd done.

"What happened Lovely?" she asks in a hushed raspy voice as she runs one of her hands through her lover's hair.

"I tripped over Harry's shoes at the hotel and smacked my chin into the dresser" Y/n explains as Hermione such a breath through her teeth. She could almost feel the impact.

"I'm happy you didn't break any teeth" she replies as she kisses her lips tenderly. Just in case her jaw did hurt still.

"Harry was freaking out, he said he didn't want to be the one to explain to you that I killed myself by tripping over his shoes" Y/n chuckled as Hermione ran her fingers through her wife's hair. Her manicured nails trailing down her scalp just the way she likes.

“I would have strangled him with those stupid laces if that had happened” Hermione grumbled as she felt Y/n chuckle against her bare chest. Her breath tickled slightly, but that only made the Minister pull her closer.

“That is what he was afraid of” Y/n replied as the moonlight began to peak through the office window.

Hermione kisses the space between her eyebrows, sighing softly at the contact she had missed greatly.

“Never leave again” she begs softly as Y/n wraps her arms around Hermione and plays with the ends of her curly hair.

“Hermione-”

“Just lie, until you have to leave again”

…

“I promise”

[sloanesallow]

Big Brained

There's nothing wrong with being feral for one's husband, right? Sloane can't help it, especially when Sebastian shows off that big, sexy brain of his. ✨Sebastian Sallow x F!MC Tags: NSFW! MDNI! Sexual content, oral sex (m receiving), exactly one spank, and some Sebastian dirty talk. 2.5k words [Read on Wattpad] - [Read on Ao3] - [tumblr masterlist] Reblogs, comments, and kudos are always appreciated! ✨

The last place Sloane wants to be is the Ministry of Magic.

She has managed to avoid a permanent place at Whitehall, despite Minister Spavin’s constant and personal invitations for her to join their ranks. Her answer is always no—she does not want a career in the wizarding world’s government, preferring her freedom and whatever anonymity she has left. Unfortunately, the same could not be said for her husband, who is technically under their employment, contracted to work as a curse-breaker with the Department of Magical Law Enforcement.

At twenty, Sebastian is young, but incredibly talented, and one of the Auror’s greatest assets. He is usually in some far-off destination, exploring ancient tombs and collecting artifacts with a rag-tag crew, helping to chase down Dark Wizards and undo any havoc caused. Sloane travels with the group as an unofficial healer, treating mysterious and mundane wounds while researching remedies both magical and muggle. They are a dynamic duo of sorts, and the Ministry knows that the Sallows are a package deal, the bond inseparable—unbreakable. 

After spending the last three months in the Austrian wilderness, they are back in London to receive a new assignment. Sloane spends the morning checking in on their dusty flat and shares a few cups of tea with Poppy in the local shoppe before venturing back to the second floor to find Sebastian. Even though he is rarely in-office, the Aurors keep a room clear for his use, tucked away from the hustle and bustle of what she calls the ‘bull-pen’.

Sloane can hear a few familiar voices as she approaches the open door, peeking her head in to see Sebastian in the middle of a fervent discussion with two of the officers who accompanied them in Salzburg. The other men don’t seem to notice her presence, but her husband acknowledges her entrance with a quick glance, the corner of his mouth twitching up before he refocuses his attention.   

“Have the scouts reported back?”

“Yes, sir,” Jeffries, the older and more skeptical Auror replies. Sir—Sloane sees the subtle pride in Sebastian’s expression, even if the title causes her to bite back a laugh. Jeffries continues, “the rumors about increased activities on the Nordic coast are true. Intelligence suggests a small, but powerful group of heretics are attempting to locate bloodrunes, magic the Ministry hasn’t encountered in…centuries.”

That you know of, Sloane muses to herself as she idly peruses the nearby bookshelf, overflowing much like the shelves at home.

“Bloodrunes require significant power to activate,” Sebastian states, not bothering to specify if this knowledge is based on first-hand experience or not. He leans over the map spread out across the desk and traces a finger along the supposed site. “There are probably laylines that can be disrupted, but I won’t speculate until I see the area for myself.”

“Perhaps we should wait before sending a team—”

“Wait for what, exactly?” Sebastian interjects, raising an eyebrow in challenge. He straightens his posture and crosses his arms. “A blood sacrifice? Neither of you studied ancient magical tribes, so I won’t fault you for your ignorance, but the last time runes like these were activated, it triggered a tidal wave that destroyed the sea walls along the Nordic coast. Thousands of people were killed.”

Sloane glances up from the book she is pretending to read and feels only a little shame for ogling her husband when he is in the middle of an important conversation. But she enjoys watching Sebastian showcase his intelligence—he’s always been a little cocky, and rightfully so—he won’t back down when he knows he is right. With his coat discarded and sleeves pinned up, she can see the way the muscles in his arms flex as he waits for either man to respond.

“Alright, Sallow, you win,” the other Auror, Bartie, sighs. The red-headed Weasley is a few years older than her and Sebastian but is far more trusting than the rest of the old guard. “What do you need from us?”

Sebastian shrugs, trying not to smirk when he gets his way. “Whomever the department can spare, really. Preferably those who are proficient in more than just defensive magic. A liaison for the local communities as well, to safeguard them from harm.”

“Should I contact St. Mungos—”

“That won’t be necessary,” Sebastian waves off Jenkins’ inquiry. It should be known by now that the only healer needed is Mrs. Sallow—Sloane. The Aurors give curt nods and Sebastian flicks his gaze to where she is standing. “Now, if you’ll excuse me gentlemen, but I believe my wife has been waiting long enough.”

She smiles somewhat bashfully as the two men finally notice her just as they are being shooed out of the room. Jeffries is indifferent, but Bartie offers a polite smile and wave before leaving.

“Looks like we’re off on another adventure, sweetheart,” Sebastian says when they are alone, re-crossing his arms as he leans back against the desk. Sloane is already swiftly crossing the room, practically launching herself onto him as she swallows his surprised laughter in a kiss. He quickly hooks his arms around her waist, holding her steady as she presses up on her toes to meet his height the best she can.

“Mmm—hello,” he manages, pulling away with a breathless grin. “You’re certainly in a mood.”

“Yes, sir,” she simply replies, catching the glimmer of excitement that passes through his coffee-colored eyes. Sloane touches her heels back to the floor, smoothing her hands across his shoulders and chest, playing with the straps of his suspenders. “Is that so bad?”

“Not at all,” Sebastian hastily shakes his head and gives her hips an appreciative squeeze. “I’m usually the needy one, is all.”

“Well, I can’t help it when you show off,” she explains, undoing the first two buttons of his shirt. “I love your big brain.”

Sebastian’s brows twitch up at the word big, but before he can make a lewd comment she palms the front of his pants, and he croaks instead. He recovers quickly, hands snapping up to firmly cradle her face as he captures her lips in a kiss that speaks volumes of his hunger for her. Sloane matches his enthusiasm, tugging at his suspenders until they are hanging at his sides. As she flicks open the clasps of his trousers, he fumbles for his wand, muttering the necessary spells against her lips to slam shut the door, waiting for the audible click of the lock before tossing it aside.

It isn’t very often that Sloane is in control, and she takes full advantage of catching him off guard, not-so-gently pushing him back until he topples into the cushioned armchair with an oof. He watches her with a mesmerized expression, shifting to accommodate as she kneels between his spread legs. She continues with removing his trousers, pulling them down along with his underwear until the fabric pools around his ankles.

Sloane wastes no time, finding satisfaction in the way Sebastian’s breath hitches as she wraps one hand around the base of his cock, already hard from her teasing. She leisurely strokes him, pushing up his shirt so she can trail a path of wet kisses across his navel, hipbone, and thighs. Her thumb brushes over the sensitive head, spreading the gathering of pre-come as he shudders, breathing already labored. With a coy glance up through her lashes, she slowly takes him into the warmth of her mouth.

Sebastian’s fingers quickly thread into her hair, tugging at the ash-blonde strands as her lips slide down his length until she feels him against the back of her throat. She sucks in to create a perfect seal, repeating the up and down motion a few times before leaning back to swirl her tongue around the tip.

“F—fuck…” Sebastian groans, his head lulling back. Sloane steadily increases her pace, humming until the vibration prompts him to slide open his eyes to watch her head bob in his lap. Her fingers continue to stroke where her lips can’t reach, her other hand softly fondling his sac in a way that has his hips bucking up involuntarily.

She keeps her eyes on his face as it contorts with pleasure, brows furrowed deeply as he resists the urge to unravel too quickly. It’s thrilling for her to see him at her mercy, incoherent murmurs of praise falling from his lips as she eagerly coaxes him to the edge. His grip tightens in her hair, pressing against the nape of her neck, a telltale sign he’s close.

“Slo—Sloane,” he gasps, voice strained. “I—oh, fuck—I’m—”

The rest of his sentence dissolves into a strangled moan, his body tensing and cock twitching against her tongue as he spills his release. Sloane swallows it all, remembering to breathe through her nose as she takes every last drop he has to offer. Sebastian slumps back, in a daze as Sloane pulls away with a wet pop and self-satisfied smirk. There’s a lopsided grin on his face as he silently admires her, affectionately sweeping the hair from her face before brushing the pad of his thumb across her wet lips.  

Even though Sloane can feel the slick of her arousal within her undergarments, she is content enough to wait until they return to their London flat for reciprocation. Seeing Sebastian so boneless and completely sated is satisfaction enough. She slides her hands across his thighs, gently massaging the remaining tension away.

“Ready to go home?” she asks, already imagining the evening ahead. A long bath, a hearty meal, and the comfort of their marital bed—not that they’ll be doing much sleeping.

Sebastian gradually sits up and Sloane pushes herself to stand, ready to help him right his trousers and gather his belongings so they can leave before more Aurors—or heaven forbid the Minister himself—stops by for another chat. But Sebastian shakes his head and the devilish gleam in his eyes is all the warning she has before his hands are on her, spinning her around to bend her over the desk.

“Seb!” the protest dies on her tongue as he hoists up her skirts, tucking them around her waist. Sloane sucks in a breath as he cups her, fingers pressing firm against the dampness of her knickers. He makes an appreciative sound, applying more pressure where she needs it the most, but just as she pushes back against his touch it’s gone, and all she can do is whimper at the loss.

“Don’t worry, darling,” Sebastian coos, peeling the delicate fabric away to expose her naked flesh. “I’ll take care of you.”

She lets out a surprised squeak when he playfully smacks her bare bottom, even more heat pooling in her gut as her legs tremble. Sebastian huffs a soft chuckle, this time smoothing the skin over with a gentle touch.

“More?” he asks, the deep timbre of his voice causing her to shiver.

She nods, barely remembering to speak, “yes.”

“Yes…?”

Sloane flushes—even after all these years, Sebastian can so easily fluster her. “Y—yes, sir.”

“Good girl.”

Perhaps some lingering naivety makes her believe he’ll simply take her like this, but no, her husband clearly has other plans for her. His hands slide up the back of her thighs until his thumbs are spreading her open, teasing her silken folds and entrance.

“Is this what I do to you?” he rasps, sliding two fingers through her arousal before slowly sinking them into her as she lets out a shuddering sigh. The way she flexes around him as he leisurely pumps in and out betrays just how impatient she is for his offer of pleasure. When she lifts her hips to meet his ministrations, Sebastian presses his free hand to her lower back, keeping her still.

“I said I’d take care of you,” his voice is gruffer than before, and she bites back a whine when he removes his fingers. “Do you want me to stop?”

“No,” she breathes, shaking her head. A part of her realizes this is Sebastian’s way of showing her who is really in charge, now.

“Do you want to come around my fingers?”

Sloane shakes her head again, fighting the urge to squeeze her thighs together for the slightest ounce of relief.

“No?” Sebastian feigns surprise, amused by her startled moan when he slips his fingers back inside her anyways. “My, my…you are needy today, aren’t you?”

All she can do is moan, disrupting the parchment on the desk as she grasps for purchase.

“Well,” he says in a sigh, curling his fingers to press against the spot that makes her vision blurry with stars. “You’ll have to use your words, my love. Tell me what you need.”

Sloane bites down a little harder on her bottom lip, her entire body now hot and prickled with goosebumps. She used to hate when he prompted her like this, attempting to coax filthy words from her lips and make her beg. But she really is too indigent right now to care, glancing over her shoulder to meet his wicked expression.

“Sebastian, I swear to God, if you don’t—”

“Isn’t it a sin to swear to God?” he muses, acting as if he isn’t knuckle-deep inside her. “My Sloane is much more polite than that.”

Insufferable tease—she huffs in frustration, but the warm swirl in her gut is a stark reminder that she loves it, loves him.

“Please,” she starts, deeply exhaling. “Shut up and fuck me.”

Sebastian tries to hide his delight but fails, laughing as he shifts to properly stand behind her, nudging her stance a little wider so they are properly aligned. “As my lady wishes.”

There is little teasing after that, Sebastian nudging his hardened-again cock against her before snapping forward to fill her in one fluid stroke. Her sharp gasp is drowned out by his deep groan and it’s very clear neither will last very long. Almost immediately, he sets a quick pace, the friction an agonizingly wonderful burn. Sloane can feel her legs shaking, straining as she stands on the very tip of her toes, Sebastian holding her up by the waist and hips to meet his thrusts.

“That’s it,” he grunts, not bothering to keep any sort of rhythm. He folds his body over hers, his free hand grasping her right wrist, pinning it to the desk as he bares his weight down. “Just like that.”

Sloane whimpers her approval, the warmth of him holding her down a comfort she never expected to enjoy or need. He ruts his hips against hers until they are both frantically crying out, core fluttering around him as he spills again, this time deep inside her heat.

It takes several moments for them to float back down to reality, Sloane sighing as Sebastian rests himself a little more comfortably across her back. He nestles his nose against her neck, affectionately sweeping through her sweat-matted hair as he presses a few lazy kisses to the shell of her ear.

He repeats her earlier ask with a breathless chuckle, “ready to go home?”

She hums her agreement, the two unhurried as they fix their appearances and attempt to tidy up any mess. As they leave the offices hand-in-hand, Sloane thinks to herself that maybe, just maybe, the Ministry of Magic isn’t so bad after all.

[cherryslyce]

Second Son (VII) | Regulus Black

Series Synopsis: Forbidden from contacting Harry over the summer, you opt to explore the eerie halls of Grimmauld Place where you stumble upon a lonely portrait of the House's second son.

— Chapter Synopsis: The summer before your sixth year is another fruitful one spent at Grimmauld Place. Regulus and Y/N have an insightful conversation and grow closer than before.

Part VI / Part VIII / Series Masterlist

Pairing: Regulus Black x GN!Reader

Notes: Cheers to another summer break! The not canon compliant warning is starting to become more apparent. The slow burn is burning a bit.

The weeks following the confrontation at the Ministry left the Wizarding World at a standstill, the alleys and streets seeming to grey and titter in jumbled whispers and conspiracies. Minister Fudge could no longer make a public enemy out of Harry, having witnessed the return of Voldemort for himself. Unsurprisingly, Fudge resigned shortly after Dumbledore was reinstated. 

Despite the retreat of public scrutiny from his back, Harry fared no better than he had the summer before, conceivably managing far worse. You don’t remember much after Sirius’ attack, only that Luna quickly rushed to your side and grabbed Regulus’ portrait from your hands, hiding it in your jacket as Auror Tonks made her way over to your glass-eyed form. 

You could never thank Luna enough because you distinctly remember being unable to feel your limbs due to shock, and you’d rather not have to explain your portrait predicament. Tonks’ words barely registered, but you heard one thing loud and clear: Sirius was not dead. 

But he did not get better. 

Currently, he occupied a suite room at St. Mungo’s, his consciousness torn away as he remained in a frigid coma. After Harry had recovered from his clash with Bellatrix and Voldemort, he had nearly tackled you to the ground, realizing that your quick thinking to grab Sirius with your spell was the only reason he was still alive. 

Breaking the news to Regulus was difficult since you knew how much he loved his brother, despite the strained relationship they had. Regulus was devastated by the news and he seemed to pale further when you told him that it was Bellatrix that got him. Pureblood family issues were so complicated. 

After your brief conversation about Sirius’ status, neither of you had the energy to talk about Regulus’ disappearance, so you ended up pocketing away his portrait. 

Despite the relief you felt because Regulus was back with you, you couldn’t bring yourself to face him just yet. Your reluctance to face him again led you to leave him in your pocket for a few weeks without talking to him. 

However, you knew you’d have to face him eventually, and it was just the opportune time to do so. Harry and the Weasleys were going to spend the summer at the Burrow, but you pleaded with Dumbledore to allow you to return to Grimmauld Place under the guise that you would research ways to help Sirius. 

Bellatrix had hit him with a highly complex dark curse, one that was foreign to the healers at St. Mungo’s, meaning that it was likely a curse found in the Black library. 

Your excuse wasn’t a lie, but it was far from the whole truth. You also wanted to further explore your magical connection with Regulus and the disappearing room, still perplexed by the wisp of magic you felt last time. But it seemed that there was little use hiding that fact from Dumbledore, as he gave you a small, all-knowing smile before giving you permission, “The world seems to have strange ways of bringing people together. I do hope you find what you are seeking.” 

At first, your heart nearly gave out because you assumed that he had used legilimency on you, but your ring gave no indication of it, so you presumed it was just a Dumbledore thing. 

It seemed that Dumbledore and Luna were aware of Regulus’ existence to some degree, which was no surprise, one was a legendary wizard, the other an understated seer. Their knowledge only served to worry you though, as you weren’t confident that Voldemort was none the wiser to Regulus’ existence now. 

If Dumbledore knew with what limited time you spent around him, there was no doubt Voldemort was itching from suspicion. 

Vengeance was practically Voldemort’s middle name (even if Harry insists that it’s Marvolo). You still had no idea how Regulus had wronged Voldemort, but you weren’t sure if you wanted to find out for the sake of your own sanity. 

As the green flames engulfing your vision slowly dissipate, you carefully step out from the floo network and brush away the ash from your clothing. Spinning around, you faintly smile at the nostalgic environment. Grimmauld Place was far from a welcoming home, but it had a certain knack for bringing along pleasant surprises. 

Before you can set out to dive into research, a popping sound has you whirling your head downwards towards the noise. 

“Master Regulus’ friend is back” Kreacher’s voice is tuned with surprise, but he looks pleased to see that you’re alone, evidently still not as accustomed to your friends or the Order members. You were secretly quite flattered to have the elf’s approval–not that you’d ever admit it to anyone. 

Grinning down at the elf, you wave as he moves to grab your trunk, “Hi, Kreacher. I’ll be here awhile, I need to research a few things to help your Master.”

“Help Master?” Kreacher turns his eyes to you in apprehension.

Nodding solemnly, you release a small sigh before answering, “Yes, he’s been in an accident.”

At your words, Kreacher’s grip on your belongings loosen, turning to look at you with a face full of anguish, “What is wrong with Master Regulus?!” 

Sputtering a little from shock, you quickly placate the elf, still reeling at the fact that he was capable of that much worry, “No, no, Regulus is fine. I’m talking about Sirius, he was cursed by a dark spell and the healers don’t know how to fix it.” 

Kreacher’s tense form relaxes considerably and he grunts, turning back to his task of gathering your items, “So, Master Sirius still breathes? Pity.” 

Expecting a far more violent response at the news, you simply nod, allowing silence to blanket between the both of you. You briefly considered asking the elf if he was knowledgeable of Bellatrix’s ledger of favorite curses, but decided it would be your last resort. 

You weren’t sure if Kreacher would be of much help considering it involved Sirius. 

“Kreacher, I’ll be in the library. You can put my things in the guest room I stayed in last summer.” Your words are met with a slight nod and that’s all the sign you need before you’re bounding up the stairs and in the direction of the expansive library. 

Much of the content filling the shelves of the sealed library were enigmatic, but you hoped that you could kill two birds with one stone and find information for both of your goals. How lucky that both of your problems involved the Black brothers. 

As you trailed through the aisles of shelves, running your finger along the leather-bound books, you sighed as you realized you were putting off your chat with Regulus. At first, it was truly because you didn’t know how to breach the subject of his portrait traveling, but now it was also because you felt guilty for avoiding him for so long. 

Rip the bandaid off, stop stalling or he’ll really leave this time around. 

Reaching into your jacket, you carefully extricate the frame out of your pocket, bringing it to eye-level. Plastering on an unsure smile, you feel relief flush through your veins as Regulus greets you with his own soft smile. 

“Little bird, it’s been a while.” Regulus’ voice is smoother than you remember, and you find yourself shuffling around as your heart begins to pound uncomfortably. Bloody crush giving you heart palpitations. 

“Hi, Reg. It has been. I’m sorry for not talking to you sooner, I’ve just been thinking.” Even though your excuse was flimsy at best, Regulus shakes his head firmly, as if all was forgiven on your part. 

Warmth shines in his eyes as he alleviates your worries, “It’s not your fault, it is entirely mine for mindlessly leaving you alone that day without a word.” 

Shocked by his initiative to bring it up first, you can only nod mutely as he continues, “I’m sorry, Y/N. My reason for leaving…it was entirely childish, and these few weeks of not communicating with you allowed me to contemplate some more. I want to be honest with you, if you’re up to hear it.”

“Of course, and I want to be honest with you as well, Reg.” Your nod and soft smile seem to strike a chord in him, causing him to emit a low laugh of fondness. 

Tilting his head to the side, his eyes seemed to shine brightly at you, “You’re always honest with me, little bird. I think I owe it to you—to us, to be transparent this time around.” 

You have to make a conscious effort to stop his ‘to us’ from replaying over and over again in your head. 

Huffing in playful annoyance at his ability to endlessly fluster you, you decide to take a stab at his declaration, “Alright, if you’re sure, then…I guess we should start with the most obvious question, why did you leave that night?” 

Dragging his hand up to tuck a loose curl behind his ear, he gives a little pause before answering you, “I was scared.” Seeing your confused look, he continues, “I was scared because…your injury. When I saw it, I was furious–and not at you, but towards Umbridge. I was terrified because I care for you… so much, but there’s nothing I can do to help you in those kinds of situations.” 

He cares. It was so different hearing it verbalized by him. 

The stress weighing on you seems to melt away, the furrow between your brows letting up as you lightly come to your own conclusion, “So you left because you were angry.” 

He shakes his head lightly, “It was not just anger, but also fear. Frankly, I feel a sense of devotion to you and I was frightened by it. I left because I thought that it would be logical to languish my connection to you, but I realized how foolish my thoughts were. I am stuck with you, just as you are stuck with me.” 

His words were genuine, but you could tell he was dancing around a deeper meaning. Still, you were glad for his honesty. It was a step forward in your relationship. 

You feel yourself getting choked up by his announcement, but before you can even muck up a response, he continues, “I was anxious that day, before I even took notice of your wound. Before you casted that muffliato, I had heard the blast and thought that you were being attacked. But I waited to hear your voice, maybe a reassurance that it was all okay. When everything became muffled, I was worried that you were hiding everything from me because something was happening to you.” 

“Oh.” Well, when he put it like that, it’s no wonder he was so furious that day. 

He nods at your realization, finishing his explanation quietly, “You are so kind, little bird. Even in that moment where you could have been in danger, you still put your consideration for me first. It’s scary to think, but I know…I know that I would do the same if the roles were reversed.” 

“You know that I care for you deeply as well, Reg. We’re in this together.” It comes out slightly watery, but your words are firm and the vulnerable glint in your eye eased Regulus’ tension. 

Reinvigorated by Regulus’ words, you decide to bring up the topic that had been troubling you for a while, “I was honestly unsettled by my attachment to you as well. I’m unsure of what to make of it, some days it feels unreal. I just don’t understand it all because logically, you’re a portrait, but deep down, I know that there is so much more to you. You’re not like any ordinary  portrait I’ve stumbled upon.”

Nodding as if expecting the topic to be brought up, he straightens up and clears his throat, “I suspected you felt this way, and honestly, I’m not entirely sure why I’m so different. I know there might be a few possibilities as to why, but I feel as though I am missing a part of the answer, myself. When I left you that night, I was able to spy on a few portraits in the castle. Of course, I couldn’t reveal myself since they would have recognized me, but, from what I observed, most portraits are not as…dynamic as me. Even the most complex ones at Hogwarts seem to be entirely derivative.”

Not quite expecting Regulus’ loss for answers as well, you can only seem to reach one conclusion, “So the answer to all of this…it happened shortly before your death then?” 

“Yes, it’s highly likely. After all there was a two week gap of radio silence between the last visit from my living-self and his untimely death.” Regulus’ confirmation has you suppressing a groan. It seemed like you wouldn’t be getting a clear answer so easily, but perhaps Regulus left clues on the research he was doing before his death around the library. 

Humming as you feel a headache coming on, you decide to let the topic drop there, “It’s okay, we don’t need all the answers right now. But I’m glad we had this conversation, and I hope that in the future we can continue to be honest with each other.” 

Regulus smiles at you, “Of course, little bird. But I’m curious, any news on my brother or about the Dark Lord?” 

A small frown tugs at your lip as you’re brought down to reality, “No changes in Sirius’ condition, but I’m hoping that maybe we can find some clues here. Unfortunately, Voldemort is making his move in bold ways, he’s truly an incisive foe. He murdered Amelia Bones last week, it was all over the press, even the muggles covered it.” 

Taking notice of how your voice catches at the end, he returns your frown, “I didn’t know you were fond of Madam Bones.”

“I was quite partial to her morals, and she was an accomplished witch, to boot. Plus, I know her niece. She has no guardian now. Voldemort murdered her parents during the war.” Shaking your head at the turn of events, you can’t help but feel a sense of unease at Madam Bones’ death. 

Voldemort was moving rather quickly. There was no telling what his next move was going to be. This wasn’t the first time he was able to strike down a famously powerful wizard or witch, even in his revived state, he was just as remarkable of a wizard. He was slowly removing the pillars that held up the Light side’s confidence, at this rate, Dumbledore was going to be the only one left to look to. 

No use in overwhelming yourself, take it one day at a time. 

Lowering Regulus’ portrait slightly, you begin to peruse through the book titles on the shelves, trying to find anything synonymous for “dark curses and hexes”. You were hoping that the search for the curse would be quick, but unfortunately, it seemed that the entire library was just pooling to the brim with parchments about the Dark Arts. 

“Hey, Reg. Do you have any idea where Bellatrix might have learned such a troubling curse? Any area of the library I should focus on?” Your words were meant as more of a joke, but Regulus’ contemplative expression has you stopping in your tracks to focus your attention back on the boy. 

Rubbing his chin, he seems to map out some ideas in his head, “During our last conversation, the day Sirius was cursed, you said his muscles seemed to constrict before he went limp and then he dropped into a coma?” 

You nod in confirmation at the pointed assessment, wondering just how useful the symptoms could be at narrowing down the possibilities.

Why couldn’t Bellatrix have used another curse of milder lethality with far more ridiculous effects? Coma, really? Why not puking up tarantulas or something? While it would make for a ghastly sight, it would be ridiculous enough to make the hex more apparent. 

After a few more moments, Regulus seems to have a lead of some kind, “I don’t have an exact answer, but it does remind me of a time when I was younger and Bellatrix would talk in circles about experimenting with soul magic. She wanted to impress the Dark Lord, so it’s no doubt something of that caliber.” 

“Soul magic?” You punctuate the words in disbelief, realizing that the circumstances might be far more dire than anyone could have fathomed. 

Realizing that you had no idea where to even begin, you decided to enlist some help, “Kreacher!” You weren’t exactly sure if it was necessary to yell, but the action soothed some of the stress you were suddenly feeling. 

A pop echoes around the library and Kreacher stands before you in mild irritation, “Kreacher has been called?” 

Placing a hand on your hip, you try to seem authoritative with your command, “Yes, Kreacher I need your help. Could you gather up all the books on the property that concern soul magic or soul hexes?” 

The elf’s eyes seem to light up at your words, clearly thinking that you were taking interest in the Dark Arts. The prospect wasn’t exactly improbable, but you were much too reluctant to choose soul hexes as an introduction. 

“As you wish. Kreacher will begin right away.” After giving you a razor-sharp grin, he’s gone in the blink of an eye and you hear a distant pop ring from deeper in the library. Hopefully, Kreacher could be trusted to keep your little research topic a secret, you would not fancy having to explain to your friends why you were researching such a dark subject amidst Voldemort’s return. 

As you begin to make your way out of the room, you bring Regulus’ portrait back up to your face, “Reg, there’s something interesting I discovered the night you left. I was wandering around the castle-” looking for you “-and I spent the night in the Room of Requirements. Except it wasn’t exactly the Room of Requirements.” 

Regulus looks both intrigued and full of reproof at your words, compelled to hear about your adventures, but displeased by your decision to break the rules and risk being punished further. 

Brushing aside his concerns, you continue, “Well, while I was wandering around, I was thinking about you and where you might be, and the room that ended up appearing was the disappearing room that your portrait was originally in.” 

Finding yourself in the kitchen, you carefully prop Regulus up against an empty fruit bowl before rounding the table to raid the cabinets. To your utter dismay, all the cabinets are empty, save for one filled with numerous knives. Groaning at the lack of food, you decide to plop back down in front of Regulus, cradling your empty stomach pitifully. 

Shooting you an amused eyebrow raise, Regulus seems to consider your findings as you continue to mope, “That is fascinating. If it was truly the same room, then it must be as a result of something my human counterpart did whilst he was still alive. When I was first painted, the room already existed–that much I know. Although he was the only one who ever came into the room, I thought very little of it at the time.” 

“It seems that all the answers about the strange magic surrounding you and the disappearing room vanished with him. How frustrating.” Your groan is cut off with a loud grumble from your stomach, causing you to slap a hand to your middle bashfully. 

Entertained at your embarrassment from the strident noise, Regulus chuckles before putting you out of your misery, “Kreacher will be awhile with the books. It’s fine, go out and grab some food, we can talk after you’re done.”

Nodding glumly at his suggestion, you quickly pocket his portrait and feel around for your pouch of galleons. Once you’re ready to head out, you grab a handful of floo powder and ready yourself for human interaction. 

Merlin, you were so looking forward to being a recluse the entire break.

The feeling of becoming a hermit only grew as the rest of the summer dragged along. Kreacher managed to snag a little over a dozen books about soul hexes and magic for your research, keeping you occupied indoors for a majority of the break. 

You only managed to stay sane because Regulus kept you company, and for that, you could never repay him enough. 

The last few days of July flickered by and soon you were preparing yourself to enter the familiar floo network to make your way to the Burrow. It was finally Harry’s 16th birthday, and you intended for it to be a happy one, needing some semblance of normality as war shifted on the horizon. 

“Little bird.” Regulus’ voice pierces through your concentration as you finish taping the last fold of wrapping on Harry’s gift. 

“Hm?” Your distracted hum has him rolling his eyes playfully. 

Tilting his head, he finally speaks up once your eyes meet his, “You do know that there’s a spell to do the wrapping for you?” 

“What? And miss all the fun?” Your teasing words have him looking unimpressed, “Besides, it has more meaning to do it by hand, Reg. You can see all the little imperfections, for example, this little uneven crease on the bottom.” As you show him the bulky wrapping, he can barely disguise his look of amusement.

Shaking his head, he crosses his arms as a pensive look crosses over his expression, “We should try something before you head out.” 

Tying a silk ribbon around the wrapped gift, you peer up at him in interest, “Sure, what’s on your mind?” 

“I think we should try out those charms you found a while back.” His words surprise you since you figured he still held reservations about the risks of the Mens est Oculus charm.   

Sitting up straighter and reaching for your wand, you can’t help but voice your confusion, “Not that I’m opposed to it, but why now?” 

“It would put me at ease to be able to talk to you, just in case.” His words are touching and you’re much too pleased to dismiss his concerns. On the one hand, you were only going to the burrow, on the other, you were aware of how risky it was to be out and about since death eaters were slowly strengthening their forces. 

Giving him an understanding nod, you furrow your brows in concentration before casting the charms. Luckily, you had much time to imprint the movements and incantations in your head so it only took a little pause to cast. 

Quirking your lips in uncertainty, you slowly bring your wand down, unsure if the charms were put into place. 

‘Reggie? Can you hear me?’

‘Impressive work, little bird. Not that I doubted you.’

Gasping loudly at his voice, you reel back in your seat to gape at a pleased looking Regulus, “Woah!” 

Laughing at your shock, Regulus opts to merely respond through your newfound mind link, ‘Woah indeed. Now, it’s about time for you to head out, no?’

As you tucked Regulus’ portrait away underneath your pillow and headed down to the floo network, you couldn’t help the victorious laugh that escaped you. 

It seemed that every summer was more eventful than the last, and you were hopeful that you could spend many more summers in the future with the boy who was slowly winning over your heart. 

Reaching out into your mind link one last time, you send Regulus a fleeting farewell. 

‘Stay safe, little bird.’

And then green flames were filling your vision. 

tag list: @krazyk99 @venomsvl @valsarchives @bunny24sstuff @novella12nite @elia-the-bibliophile @txoru @surelysherly @xlifexdeathx @trikigirl271 @urgurlfave @the-marauders-world @sleepydang @blueberry-thrawn @lestat-whore @chanaaaannel @clockworkherondale

[zombu7]

Corrupt Minister x Detective Auror

[subastian-swallows]

Dark Whispers, Light Vows

CHAPTER TWO: PAIN

★ Chapter one

Chapter three ★

Pairing: Dark!Sebastian x AurorMC x AurorOminis - Love Triangle Fic

Words: 6.8k

Warnings: ANGST

Summary: “In a race against time, (Auror’s) Alice and Ominis must work together to recapture their former friend Sebastian, an escapee from Azkaban. But when Sebastian begins to use a mysterious new form of magic to haunt Alice’s dreams, she’s torn between bringing him to justice or helping him escape, risking everything in the process. Love, friendship, and the battle between light and dark intertwine as Alice must decide which path she will take.”  

A/N: Life kicked my butt, sorry for the wait, BUT SHE'S HERE AND SHE'S ANGSTY

“Nobody loves the light like the blind man.” ― Victor Hugo, Les Misérables

Listening to Ominis converse with the Minister—Faris, always felt strange. He always spoke as if politeness equated the same as respect and perhaps, that was why he was respected. Unlike Alice, who cared little for what others around her thought, Ominis always went out of his way to prove himself. When Alice had asked about it, perhaps feeling rather confused by the idea someone as special as Ominis had to do such a thing. She never expected that’s how she would’ve learnt about his family. They say, doing something in spite of others, would eventually lead you to hate it. But Ominis relished the fact that he had found something he loved, while also being able to rub it in their face—Alice perhaps, just loved the idea that he did it so casually, that it drove his family mad. 

Faris must have begun his lengthy speech, about why Sebastian must be stopped, due to Ominis naturally tensing up beside her. But Alice hadn’t truly been paying attention. No, instead she had been focused on the way his hair looked particularly thin and she wondered if he was stressed out. For some reason, Alice was unable to retain anything he said, her eyes locked onto his face to show she was present. And yet, his words sounded nothing like words, but more so, muffled noises—as if he was speaking to her underwater. She wondered if this was a way her mind allowed her to cope, she was there, but not really. Alice didn’t want to be here. She didn’t want to track down Sebastian and she sure didn’t want to see him again. 

Because seeing him again would only hurt, that much was certain and she had gotten so good at pretending—she was better. 

“Alice? Are you still with us?” 

“I’m sorry?” Alice said, realising quickly that she hadn’t really succeeded at acting as if she had been listening. But when she sat up straighter and realised Faris was observing her more closely than before, she gave him a half-assed smile. “I might have missed that last part. Hard to focus on so much information, when no one has any leads. No one does, right?”

Ominis moved to lean away from her now, his chin resting gently against his hand as he attempted to hide the amusement spreading quickly across his face. But when Faris let out a defeated laugh, as if he knew better than to fight Alice, he shuffled in his chair and fiddled with his pen. “We were hoping you two would have an idea on where to start—”

“So you have nothing…nothing at all?” 

“What Alice means…is that we might have some ideas,” Ominis said, straightening again, only to pinch her knee gently. He would have loved to say her bluntness was due to the situation with Sebastian, but Alice never really treated Faris any differently from their other colleagues. It was something that should have gotten her in trouble—but for some reason, Faris simply let it be. “Have you had a team visit his cell block?” 

Faris smiled and clicked his pen, something he did often enough that Alice was tempted to throw it out of his office window. But instead, she just gently gripped the arms of her chair. “We have, but there was nothing of interest. No touch of magic—nothing, it’s like he simply vanished.” 

“Perhaps, they didn’t look hard enough?”

“What are you saying, Ominis? You think he left something behind?” Faris asked, clicking his pen again as he leant forward and this time Ominis’ hand took a firm grasp on Alice’s knee. He knew her too well and she tried to relax back into her chair, when his grip loosened slightly. “Why would he—”

“He must have left a clue…or something. The whole thrill of this, if that’s why he’s done it—was clearly the idea behind being chased.”  

Alice pushed away from the table at Ominis’ words now, the abrupt movement causing him to slip slightly as her chair scraped noisily against the floor. But she didn’t care, moving to stare out the window in a huff. “Perhaps, he just simply wished to leave that place? I mean, wouldn’t you?” 

“And perhaps, you’re just giving him too much credit, Alice?” Ominis said, straightening up in his chair, before he exhaled and stood up. Unlike Alice, Ominis had practised a lot harder when it came to pretending it wasn’t Sebastian they were after, though it sure wasn’t easy. “There has to be more to this?” 

“You and this stupid ‘credit’ talk? Ominis, you’re so focused on the anger you feel towards him—that you’re ignoring the fact…that he might just want peace?” 

Ominis crossed his arms against his chest, eyebrows furrowing as if Alice had said something ridiculous. And yet, perhaps a part of him agreed with her, though, he refused to allow it more space in his heart. That was his way of coping with the loss of a friend. “Regardless of what his reasons for escaping were, it’s clear we need to start at the beginning.” 

“You’re not suggesting we start at his cell, are you?” Alice asked, turning back from the window and stepping towards Ominis who was now tense and looking in her direction. Faris had stayed quiet this whole time, perhaps just to observe and so Alice ignored his presence and moved closer towards Ominis. “You want to visit Azkaban? You cannot be serious?” 

“It only makes sense, Alice. Besides, we might find something the others couldn’t.” 

Alice turned towards Faris, as if he would ever take her words over Ominis’. But his face seemed unchanged and when she rested herself against his desk, it was only then that he clicked his pen and stood up. “Ominis—makes a good point, Alice. What could look like pointless scribbles to us, might look and be something more to you.” 

“So let me get this straight, you’re not only asking me to track down an old friend, but also visit the place we threw him in as a child?” Alice asked, tensing her fingers against his desk and flicking Ominis a pain-filled look. He had now exhaled softly at her words and it was in moments such as this, that Alice realised just how differently they had processed everything. “I won’t go—that’s just…it’s off the table.” 

“You’re being unreasonable, Alice.” 

She scoffed and pushed away from Faris’ desk now and moved to stand beneath Ominis’ nose as he refused to acknowledge her. He wasn’t trying to make Alice upset but it was impossible to deny that her fear was going to make things more difficult and so he swallowed harshly and placed his hands against her shoulders. Ominis might not have been as open as Alice when it came to the pain that lingered due to Sebastian, but it was there and he understood her more than she knew. And it was hard trying to argue over something that even he didn’t want to do, but Ominis also knew Sebastian all too well and he was sure they were missing something. No matter how small. 

“You knew what you were getting into when you agreed to help—”

“Did I? Well that’s news to me, Ominis…in fact, if I knew that it meant I would have to step foot in Azkaban, I wouldn’t have agreed,” Alice said, shrugging off his hands and when his eyebrows furrowed in response, she simply rolled her eyes and turned to face Faris. “You can call me unreasonable all you like, but I’m not doing it.” 

Ominis sat back down now and Alice welcomed the sudden silence from him. Unlike with Faris, who had begun to click his pen again while looking over the scene unfolding in front of him and yet, it’s only after Alice glanced angrily at his hand that he stopped and smiled. “We’re not here to force you into anything, Alice. But Ominis is right, you both have a strong connection to Mr Sallow—” 

“And that’s exactly why this request is ridiculous.”

Alice pushed away from his desk and headed for the door, easily shrugging off Ominis’ touch on her way past. Faris stood, whispering to let her go, before calling out to her as she swung the door open. “Alice, you have until the end of the day. Otherwise, Ominis must pick a new partner—or go alone.” 

She didn’t respond, but the words sunk into her back as if they were digging their way towards her heart and Alice hated it. The Ministry had a lot of tactics, ones that slowly chipped away at you, but using your feelings for someone—was their favourite. Faris knew of their strange relationship, unrequited feelings if you could call it that and he did well to play on it, as if they both were nothing but pawns to them. And that’s exactly what they were, nothing but a means to get things done—when the Ministry didn’t want to get their hands dirty. But unlike Ominis, Alice had always shown the possibilities of going rogue, she was talented yes, but unpredictable and that frightened them. 

Slamming the door shut behind her, Alice barely acknowledged the reactions from those waiting patiently to speak with the Minister and stormed out. She had grown used to being looked at, as if she was a spoilt child—destined to make things difficult. But no one truly understood what she was going through, not really and she despised everyone for it. They treated her like a fool, picking away at how easily her heart controlled her actions and yet, they always asked more of her. Alice had thought often, perhaps more than one should, about leaving the Ministry—only to disappear completely, but she always ended up staying and it was always for Ominis. 

•.•:•.•:•:•:•:•:•:•:•☾☼☽•:•.•:•.•:•:•:•:•:•:•

Ominis always knew where to find Alice when she disappeared from the office. Realising that despite wishing to get away, she could never really go that far—something he would often tease her for and yet, he was glad for it. The Ministry held many secrets, with its walls containing much of the knowledge about their world, but the one place Alice enjoyed most was the vivariums they had acquired. They were found in the Department of Magical Creatures, usually off-limits to those that weren’t from that sector, but Alice always managed to slip in unnoticed—it had become such a normality, that they eventually allowed her permission. Truthfully it amused her that her unsanctioned visits became such an annoyance that the department just gave up and left her be, but it wasn’t as if she was doing anything wrong.

No, in fact, all she needed from the vivariums—was a place to hide and being surrounded by magical beasts was just an added perk. Slowly moving the sleeping niffler from her lap, Alice refused to look up when a shadow covered her, perhaps already knowing who it was. And yet, Alice’s fingers twitched slightly as if she was preparing to reach for her wand. The reaction alone caused Ominis to chuckle under his breath and Alice recalled a past memory, one where he had mentioned she tensed her fingers too much. So much so, that he could always tell when she moved them, his explanation being that he had gotten used to the sound. But Alice just thought he was guessing and somehow got it right every time, for it didn’t make sense for him to be so attuned with her—right?

“You need a better hiding spot,” Ominis said, sitting down beside her and when his arm brushed hers, Alice exhaled and leaned back on her hands. She wasn’t mad, no that wasn’t the right feeling, truthfully Alice was disappointed—perhaps she had hoped Ominis would suddenly agree that everything was wrong. But he never did and she hummed sadly, when he nudged her. “I’m sorry for calling you unreasonable, Alice. I, perhaps, should have been more considerate of your feelings.” 

“Should have been? Ominis, all these years and you’re still terrible at apologising. I suppose none of my griping stuck—I sure am glad I even tried.”

Ominis smiled and reached forward to scratch the niffler’s head, which had now awoken and moved to nibble at his shoelaces. Alice pouted as she sat up and moved him away, the niffler whining softly in the process—but her thoughts were preoccupied, when Ominis’ fingers brushed hers. “Isn't that a part of my charm? Being harsh suits me, don’t you think?” 

“Not at all actually, it’s an act you’ve got incredibly good at—but, it doesn’t suit you, nor is it the real you,” Alice said, nudging the niffler to join the others as Ominis rested his head against his arms, which were now perched on his knees. Alice watched him curiously, reminiscing about their moments in the bell tower courtyard, sitting just like this and she smiled when he hummed softly. “You thought I didn’t notice, right? No matter how bad I got, I always noticed you Ominis. You were just always too afraid to let anyone see you—”

“I, let you see me.” 

Alice’s jaw tensed and she looked away. Not because she was embarrassed, that would have been too easy, instead she felt rather guilty. She knew Ominis had fallen in love with her by the end of their sixth-year, but she couldn’t give him her heart fully and so she gave him none of it. “I suppose you did…do you want to know what I saw?”

“Enlighten me…please? I would be lying if I said I wasn’t curious?” Ominis said, moving his head now so that he looked in her direction completely and Alice swallowed shyly, keeping her focus on the grass as she began to pick at it. “What exactly did you see?” 

“Well, I saw pain…and I saw love.” 

Alice smiled as she thought about the memories they had shared and how Ominis brought her back to life. He was the warmth her body craved and he had never strayed too far, it was cruel yes—but they both had gotten so used to it and Alice didn’t want to let him go. “I saw a boy who found the light amongst the darkness, challenging everything it threw at him and yet, you never allowed it to consume you. I wish I could have said the same for myself. But I think what I love the most about you Ominis, is that the real you, is kind—is bright.”

“Bright? Now, I feel like my curiosity has only grown,” Ominis said, his smile quickly hiding against his arms as he turned back to look ahead and he chuckled softly when Alice huffed and nudged him. He could tell she was trying to be sincere, her words seeping their way into his heart, only to restart it again and he gently nudged her back in response—despite wishing to do something else. “Tell me more, I like listening to you talk—especially when you’re talking about me.” 

“How vexing, I think I’d rather stop there…you know, before your head gets too big for your shoulders.”

Ominis nodded in agreement, perhaps just to give up on teasing her and Alice laughed as if she had won something. Truthfully the reason he was here was to try and get her to reconsider the idea of visiting Azkaban and although it seemed impossible, he might have relied too much on their friendship. Hoping she would end up agreeing to the request. “We still need to speak about it, Alice. You do know that right?” 

“And there you go, ruining the mood,” Alice said, before she stood up and dusted herself off. It was clear that Ominis wasn’t here for anything more than what they had been tasked with and honestly, Alice actually felt a little hurt. But it’s not until Ominis followed her and grabbed her arm, that the hurt slowly turned to anger. “I already told you I won’t go, Ominis. I don’t plan to change my mind.” 

“So you’re not at all curious? They told me his cell is filled with writing, scribbles—what if he has left something for us to find?” 

Alice tried to pull away now, wishing for Ominis to get the hint that she didn’t want to do this. She barely liked the idea of Azkaban on its own, but now thinking about it being the place Sebastian had been for the last few years—frightened her and so when she finally yanked herself free, Alice took a step back. “Or, here’s a thought…he might have just gone mad—like everyone else that enters that place.” 

“But don’t you want to make sure? Alice, think logically for a second here,” Ominis said, stepping to the right, just in time to catch Alice from trying to make a beeline for the door and when she grumbled and tried to push him away—he simply held on tighter, until she gave up and looked away. “What if he left something for…you? If you truly want to believe he left to find peace, wouldn’t he have left you a goodbye?” 

“That’s not fair, Ominis.”

Ominis hated himself for the tactics he had learnt from working with the Ministry, but he knew that without Alice, any hope in finding Sebastian would be fruitless and so he swallowed his guilt. “None of this is fair, but we don’t have a choice. I understand the intensity of the situation, but will you truly make me do this alone? I wasn’t lying when I said I needed you with me for this.” 

It wasn’t hard to figure out what Ominis was doing. In fact, Alice almost wanted to laugh at him, as if he had somehow forgotten that they had both been taught the same tactics and although the situation seemed to amuse her, Alice wondered if there was any truth behind it. She hadn’t allowed herself to think about Sebastian in Azkaban, the thoughts filled with so much darkness that even she felt sick from them, but sometimes—when Alice found herself transfixed on her memories of him, they often slipped into her head and she would always end up crying. Perhaps, that is why she didn’t want to go through with it. Alice had created such a barrier in her head, pretending that Sebastian was safe and unharmed, that visiting Azkaban would destroy that. It would remind her of the guilt she felt on the night he was taken and how she couldn’t even bring herself to say goodbye.

Feeling Ominis’ hands slowly move to reach for her face, Alice finally looked back at him and she didn’t realise she had started to cry, until his thumbs delicately swiped at her cheeks. But it’s only after she looked at him properly, her eyes shifting between his softened gaze to his lips, slightly parted—that her hands slowly wrapped around his waist and she pulled him closer. “You’ve gotten awfully good at manipulating, Ominis. I’m not sure if I should be afraid or impressed.” 

“I’m not trying to manipulate you, Alice—”

“Oh? Forgive me then, I must be losing my mind,” Alice said, slowly leaning her forehead against his chest and using his heartbeat as a way to slow her own. Except, considering his own was beating just as rapidly against his chest as hers—her plan failed before it even began and so she could only hum in defeat. “You know, you could have just begged. I might have just agreed if you did.”    

Ominis’ arms had snaked around Alice now, providing her with the comfort she needed, no matter the pain that lingered with it. He didn’t want this, he didn’t want to allow Sebastian back in their lives—purely for the sadness that he brought with him. But perhaps, Ominis had just been hoping their demons stayed in the dark. “Do I look like someone who has to beg?” 

“For me—you should have tried. For this…you should have pulled out every tactic in the book,” Alice said, pulling back just enough to look up at him and she realised his eyes were flickering, as if he was thinking about what to say or what to do, she pouted—she could feel it already stretching them both, ripping at their hearts and she gently reached for his face. “Perhaps then, I could have pretended—”

“And perhaps, I just hoped you would have followed me without question? If I was him, you would have.”

Alice’s hand tensed against his cheek and she would have pulled it away, except Ominis swiftly held it in place with his own. She hated the fact that he was right, she would have done anything for Sebastian—and Alice almost did. “Ominis, you must understand—”

“I understand perfectly well, Alice. Do not forget, I was there too,” Ominis said, his eyes closing softly and suddenly her hand loosened, now laying limp, but he didn’t remove his hand and he certainly didn’t wish for her touch to disappear—so she allowed him to keep them connected. “But, we cannot sit by and let this destroy us. He’s done that enough, ingraining himself into our pain—we need closure…and I won’t lose everything I’ve worked for…for him, I can’t.”

“You can barely mutter his name anymore. Could you actually find it in you, to bring him in?” 

Ominis’ eyes fluttered open and a lopsided smile appeared on his face, almost making Alice want to slap him for the timing of it, but it quickly faded and when his sadness returned—she finally pulled her touch from his face and bundled his hands together in hers. “I’ve said his name plenty of times. In fact, I don’t say his name, simply—because of you. I know it hurts you more…hearing it. So I try my best not to use it.” 

She should have known that from the beginning Ominis had tried to be considerate of her and yet, Alice still wished to refuse. Deep down, she had thought she had it all planned out—only agreeing to help, until things got too intense. But now, Alice was almost too afraid to pull away, realising that the whole time she had been following Ominis along to visit the Minister—the gnawing sensation of guilt and responsibility had slowly been building. She now felt stuck, as if she was torn between hurting herself or Ominis and she swallowed down her fear, knowing she would always choose to suffer over him. 

“How would we do this?” Alice asked, her voice now soft and unsure, as if she was having to force out the words. Because truthfully, she wished to say something else, she would have loved nothing more than to tell him no and be done with it. But Alice always knew that Ominis had a way with words and perhaps, she should have known that despite everything—she was always going to agree in the end. “I’m afraid, Ominis. Auror’s aren’t meant to be afraid.” 

“And who told you that? Alice, do not forget—as an Auror we risk our lives every day? If you weren’t afraid, I would be concerned.” 

Alice forced a smile and gave his hands a gentle squeeze, before she let them go. She was battling herself already, but perhaps overcoming this first step—would eventually help, when she came face to face with Sebastian and so she exhaled and straightened her uniform. “And are you afraid?”

“Of course I am. He—Sebastian, was practically my brother. I would have done anything for him and he broke that trust, Alice,” Ominis said, his voice showing no sign of fear or pain and Alice always felt jealous at how he could hide how he was feeling, while hers lay bare—for everyone to see. “Everything that has happened, was because of his decisions. But, that doesn’t mean I’m not afraid of seeing him again. We are more alike than you know, you and I…I’m just better—”

“At hiding it, yes. It’s as if you’ve read my mind.”

Ominis chuckled softly and reached forward to fiddle with her hair, which she hadn’t noticed was slightly out of place, until his fingers brushed through it. Alice wondered if he knew somehow, or just simply used it as an excuse to touch her—either way, she let him do it. “I would like to say I could read your mind, but I am not sure I would like to…besides, truthfully you’re just consistent and so I don’t have to try too hard to figure you out.” 

“Why does that sort of feel like an insult?” Alice asked, shivering slightly when Ominis’ fingers brushed along the side of her face, before he pulled away and offered her his arm. Ominis was smiling now, a more innocent version of the smile he had donned since earlier, but it was still a smile and Alice grumbled slightly at his reaction. “Do you plan to tease me the whole time? Or just while you try to win me over…is this some sort of new tactic of yours—reverse psychology, perhaps?

“I will neither confirm nor deny that statement…my tactics are my own.”

Alice huffed and took his arm. She had always found it strange how quickly Ominis could calm her down, in a way that made her feel like she could take on anything. And although her fear was now just buried deeper within the pit of her stomach, Alice perhaps had a small inkling of hope. “Keep your secrets then…but I’ll get it out of you one day.”

“If you’re sweet enough, I would consider telling you,” Ominis said, jolting slightly when Alice pinched at his side and so he took it as a sign that they could finally leave the safety of the vivarium, perhaps pulling Alice back into reality. But when Ominis felt her tense slightly, all he could do was hum softly and pull her closer. “Hey…we’ve got this, alright? I’m right here and I’m not going anywhere. We’re in this together.”

“Right, yes…together.” 

•.•:•.•:•:•:•:•:•:•:•☾☼☽•:•.•:•.•:•:•:•:•:•:•

Azkaban, what a dreadful place. Nightmares barely did it justice, but despite the icy touch of the wind, drifting in from the sea or the Dementor’s that floated above, desperate to feed on anything good—it was the screaming that Alice hated the most. Now, it wasn’t as if she didn’t believe there were many that deserved to be here. Knowing well that a few of the dark wizards that lay behind its walls, had every right to be locked away. It was the fact that knowing Sebastian was once a part of them, always made her want to throw up and she might have—if it wasn’t for Ominis, comforting her from the sidelines.

There appeared to be more Auror’s stationed at Azkaban now, a lot more since Sebastian’s escape and even Alice had to admit that she commended their courage. Faris had asked her once, more so in passing, if she would be interested in guarding the prison—and she practically scoffed in his face. Even if it wasn’t for Sebastian, Alice was more than aware that she would never be cut out to be stationed here. The idea of being in such a place haunted her dreams and so she was always thankful to have Ominis alongside her, putting in a good word. Faris had commanded the Dementor’s to stay back, just enough so that the Auror’s could walk freely—but Alice made sure to keep her guard up anyway. 

Feeling Ominis pull at her arm, Alice quickly snapped from her thoughts and frowned, realising she had lingered too long at the registrations office. The man behind the counter had long since disappeared, perhaps annoyed by her just standing there and so she slowly turned as Ominis’ hand glided down her arm and reached for her own. “You’ve got this, Alice. I’m right here.” 

“It just feels wrong—”

“This place is just a place—at the end of the day, we won’t be long. So hold onto your strength, even if you have to search deep for it,” Ominis said, his voice soft and toneless, as if he didn’t know whether his sarcasm fitted a place such as this and so he kept his words tense and professional. Alice mocked him silently, knowing that he had opted to be the brave one for once, a title they would usually fight for—but not here, not now. “Besides, we’ve got a job to do. The sooner we find something, the quicker we can put this place behind us.” 

Alice looked at Ominis properly now, realising that she had been trying her best not to look at his reaction to the place and when she finally did, Alice’s hand quickly tightened around his. His face had begun to contort slightly with each new scream that they heard and she wondered just how much more intense the place was to him, to his senses. Slowly moving to place her free hand against his chest, Alice froze with how quickly his heart was beating and her frown only deepened. “You don’t have to be brave, you know? I understand better than anyone.”  

“One of us has to be brave, I’m just choosing for us.” 

“I suppose I have no other option, but to accept. Though I don’t like it,” Alice said, swallowing nervously as Ominis slowly pulled her with him and when her eyes glued to just how tensely he was holding his wand, she leaned into his side. No matter how many times he told her, he was being brave, she would never believe it. “Do we have a time limit? I feel like I’ll need a moment to get over the initial visit—before I can even work properly.”

Ominis chuckled softly and perhaps a little abruptly, the sound echoing off the walls and although it was a little out of place—Alice welcomed the sound. It made her feel grounded, as if she was still whole and so she squeezed his hand again. “Only mere hours ago, you said you’d never step foot in here. Now, you want to make sure you have enough time to have a breakdown and be able to do your job? You’ve always been strange…but, that’s a new one.” 

“Clearly, I’m just full of surprises. Can’t you just be happy that I’m here.” 

“Oh, I’m very happy, don’t get me wrong. It’s just amusing that’s all,” Ominis said, a smile teasing on his lips as he realised that their small talk was keeping Alice distracted enough from the cell blocks they had been passing and so he continued. “Truthfully, I must admit that it makes me feel like you chose to come…well, because of me. I suppose it’s a nice thought, even if I’m wrong.”

Alice hummed softly and noticed the two Auror’s stood guard in front of a cell block and so she quickly let go of his hand. Ominis wasn’t wrong, if she had been asked by anyone else, she would have never set foot in Azkaban. But it was different coming from him and Alice knew that in the end, it was the right thing to do—no matter how much it hurt. The Auror’s stationed by Sebastian’s cell, looked tired, perhaps even sad and when Ominis acknowledged them, ignoring Alice’s sudden silence, the Auror’s nodded and moved to the side. It felt like ripping off a bandaid, the slow pull Ominis had to do as Alice stalled in the doorway, but he had gotten her this far—and so he simply refused to let her turn back now. 

They had been right about his cell. The walls were covered in carvings, some words were legible, while others were scribbled and sporadic. But Alice found her focus had landed on the moulding bed in the corner of the room, if you could even call it that. Before she slowly pulled away from Ominis—and reached out to poke at the moth-eaten sheet, that laid along it. Had Sebastian truly been here, suffering with nothing but his thoughts and the icy touch of the sea, Alice in that moment felt her stomach tense and she covered her mouth. Her vision grew hazy before she had a chance to do anything, realising that it was more than she could bear and it was only after Ominis grabbed her shoulder—that Alice stood up and buried herself into his chest.

“This place…he…Ominis, he was just a boy. We were just kids,” Alice said, her voice broken with silent sobs and she tightly gripped at his coat, twisting it so harshly that it felt as if it was going to rip. But Ominis didn’t say anything about it, he just simply held her close and softly rubbed at the back of her head. “It’s horrible…everything, he was just a stupid kid.” 

“Alice…I’m sorry, I know this is difficult. If you need a moment…” 

Alice shook her head against his chest and tightened her grip. She didn’t want him to let her go and she hated herself for it. All of her confidence had suddenly disappeared now and she felt like she was suffocating, the air feeling tight and restricting. But Alice didn’t want it to be like this and although she sobbed softly into him, wetting his coat ever so slightly, she tried to think of ways to calm herself down—and yet, she had nothing. “I just need…you to hold me. Don’t let me go, please.” 

“I’m not going anywhere, Alice,” Ominis said, resting his chin against the top of her head now and he just held her. Her pain slowly engulfed him, swallowing them both into an intense moment of reminiscing about their school days and of Sebastian. It was sickening and Ominis felt every hair on his body stand up, but he promised her he would be brave—so he had to be brave. “Do you think you can continue…? If you can’t, I will understand.” 

“I just…need a moment, I’m sorry. But, I won’t give up…just yet.”

Ominis hummed sadly and pulled her head back, his hands now gripping her face gently as his thumbs lightly drew circles against her cheeks. His eyebrows had furrowed at her answer and when she tried to pull herself back into him, he held her in place—making her whine softly. “Don’t you ever apologise to me. Not over this, Alice. I don’t ever want to hear those words come from your mouth, do you hear me? I’m no monster…I know this isn’t just another job. But it is now our responsibility to see it through.” 

“You’re too good at this, Ominis,” Alice said, gently straightening out his coat which had now been dishevelled by her touch and he smiled softly at her words. She did mean it though, Ominis always knew exactly what to say and he did it with such ease—that it felt as if he had practised it beforehand. But truthfully, it was just another thing he was perfect at and she welcomed it openly. “Let’s just get this over with…I don’t wish to stay here, longer than needed.” 

“I’ll be right here, you can even hold my hand…if you need to.”

Alice smiled weakly and leaned up to plant a soft kiss against his cheek, before she even realised what she was doing and pulled away. Ominis’ eyes had widened just enough to show that he was surprised by the sudden reaction and so Alice quickly took a step back, reaching slowly for her lips. “Ominis…I…I’m sorry, I don’t know what came over me.” 

“It’s alright, tensions are high…I understand. Do not concern yourself,” Ominis said, his voice a little shy and as she watched him turn slightly, reaching a hand to his cheek—the guilt returned in the pit of Alice’s stomach and she frowned, biting at her nails, before moving to look around the room. “Will you…can you tell me what you see?”

“Words…just tons of words, scratched into the walls—against the floor. It’s as if he was trying to remember them…or, wait.”  

Moving past Ominis slowly, making sure to give him a gentle squeeze on the arm, almost in hopes to make the situation less awkward. Alice used her wand to illuminate the darkened walls of the cell, before she realised that some words had been underlined. But what seemed more strange was that the certain words, which had been marked, were perhaps trying to tell them something and soon enough—Alice picked up on what Sebastian had left them. 

“You were right, Ominis. He’s left us something indeed,” Alice said, her voice still shaky and despite clearly feeling proud of herself for figuring it out, her heart still ached from just being in amongst the walls of his cell and so she hummed sadly and turned towards Ominis. “There are certain words spread around the cell that have been underlined, but that’s not all. Within those certain words, each one has a number of lines etched underneath them—”

“A message—he left us a message.”

Alice nodded and moved towards Ominis, outstretching her hand to him. Magic was not allowed to be used within the walls of Azkaban, perhaps with the worry of the prisoners being able to get a hold of it and so they had to go old school. “Do you still have that pen and notepad? I think I can decipher his message.”

“I’m surprised the others didn’t notice this,” Ominis said, reaching into his pocket and pulling out what she needed, before he smiled as she quickly took it and turned him around. Ominis understood well that she wouldn’t want to sit against the floor of the cell, so he happily offered his back—which she used for a table. “Perhaps, they just didn’t look hard enough.”

“It’s a little on the nose…but I only noticed it by accident. Perhaps, they didn’t see the need to linger here.” 

Ominis chuckled softly and Alice whined as the pen slipped slightly, smudging her writing. She had now pushed him towards the wall and placed her wand between her teeth, narrowing her eyes faintly, just enough to still see the walls and when she wrote down the final word—she pulled away. “So? What does it say?”

“It says—’in the heart of where lovers once shared their first kiss, there lies a letter. Find it.’—I suppose, even being in here, he didn’t lose his love for the theatrics,” Alice said, her eyes scanning over the paper, rereading it as if she had gotten it wrong and yet it matched perfectly with what was scratched out against the walls of the cell. “I might be wrong…but I think I might know of this place.” 

“Are you saying this is about you and him?”

Alice looked up as her hands started to shake and she realised Ominis had turned to face her, his jaw tensed just enough that she could see it had caught him off guard and she hummed sadly. They should have known that Sebastian would have pulled something like this, but what did it mean? “Well…there’s only one way to find out, isn’t there?” 

“And where does this letter lead us, Alice?” Ominis asked, his words suddenly more tense and although he was trying to sound like it hadn’t bothered him, for the first time—Alice noticed the shift in his voice and she pouted slightly as she reached for him, only to pull back slowly. “This feels almost too intimate, I wonder how Sebastian would feel with you sharing it with me.” 

“If…I’m right, our next stop is Hogwarts—the Undercroft, to be more exact.”

Ominis chuckled a little defeated and straightened his coat, perhaps to keep his hands preoccupied before he raised his wand and pointed towards the door. Alice could see that this hurt him, in a different way from simply getting a step closer to finding Sebastian and she desperately wished to reach for him—but she couldn’t move and he exhaled softly, moving towards the door. “Well, it seems that we have to take a trip down memory lane. Shall we?” 

Alice didn’t hesitate with leaving, wishing to be as far away from Azkaban as she could possibly be, but knowing that Ominis was upset—made her stomach twist uncomfortably. But, he could never truly stay mad at her for very long and he knew deep down that this situation was going to be hard for the both of them and so he hummed softly, reaching out his hand. There were too many memories attached to this job and Ominis knew it was only going to get worse, the closer they got to Sebastian and so he chose to ignore his feelings—at least for now.

Once Alice took his hand, her grip tightening almost immediately, Ominis forced a smile and pulled her closer. He didn’t want her to feel guilty, his unrequited feelings weren't her fault, but it sure did suck. The pair eventually made their way outside, thankful that the icy wind had grown still with the evening sky and without another word—perhaps just desperate to get this over with, they quickly apparated back to where their story began. 

Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

[superfandomcorp]

Ron: Promise you won't be mad.

Hermione: what happened?

Harry: who are you, pretty lady?

Hermione: I'm going to kill them both!!

Ron: You always get angry before we can explain.

[thelastlynx]

Snippet from my WIP TAKE NO PRISONERS

(A post-Hogwarts Bodyguard AU feat Auror Malfoy and Minister Granger)

‘I didn’t know Macmillan played for the other team.’

Draco positioned himself next to Nott who was shamelessly staring across the salon, his eyes fixed on the blonde, burly man clad in ostentatiously expensive purple robes amid a throng of Sacred Twenty-Eighters.

‘Don’t be so frightfully conservative. Nobody cares about that sort of thing anymore,’ Nott said.

‘Wasn’t he married?’

‘The operative word being “was”. He was married. And anyway. People can swing both ways, can’t they?’

Draco nipped at his champagne, watching Macmillan move from one boring group of rich pure-bloods to the next, shaking hands here and there.

‘Aren’t you forgetting something rather important?’ he said.

‘And what would that be?’

‘That she died. He’s a widower.’

‘Oh. That,’ Nott returned as though that was an utterly inconsequential piece of information. ‘It’s been a whole year since, hasn’t it?’

‘Another man might say, it’s been just a year, considering—’

‘Pish,’ Theo said and continued his shameless staring.

Draco did the same, though considerably less conspicuously.

He noted that, although Macmillan was outwardly invested in making small talk—he seemed to be a keen conversationalist—, the way he gripped his Champagne coupe and frequently glanced around the room told quite another story.

‘Doesn’t this seem a tad… inappropriate to you?’ Draco asked.

Nott pulled his gaze from Macmillan to face Draco.

‘Are you joking?’ He lifted an eyebrow.

‘Why on earth would you say that?’

‘Well, you must be,’ Nott said, ‘because I’ve never heard you say anything quite so ridiculous.’

Draco snorted.

Nott eyed him suspiciously for a moment, then directed his attention back to Macmillan.

‘That bloody job is getting to you. I knew it was a bad idea to spend all that time around Potter.’

Draco who thought that, rather than Potter, Granger ought to be blamed for the advent of any or all scruples, chuckled, which resulted in another odd look by Nott.

‘Something IS the matter with you,’ he said. ‘What is it, Malfoy?’

‘Nothing,’ Draco answered before having even pondered the question.

‘What’s what with Malfoy?’ a female voice said.

Pansy had appeared on Nott’s other side, a coupe in one hand, a bottle of champagne in the other.

‘Nott’s about to make an absolute tit out of himself,’ Draco said as Pansy topped up their glasses. ‘I’m doing my best to prevent the worst.’

‘Doesn’t Nott always make an absolute tit out of himself?’ Pansy said.

‘Ha!’ Theo said.

‘Can’t argue with that,’ Draco said, smirking.

‘In that case,’ Theo continued, his chipper attitude once more restored, ‘What’s your opinion on Macmillan’s…. preference, Pansy?’

[dewitty1]

Fic Recs Wrap Up November 2023 ଘ(੭ˊᵕˋ)੭* ੈ✩‧₊˚･*:.｡.♡⑅୨୧̩̩̩̥✼• .｡.:*･゜ﾟ･*☆

This Ain’t the Garden of Eden by Romaine @romaine2424

In 2020, Hit Wizard Harry is starting to enjoy his life. He’s divorced, and no longer Head Auror. His biggest project these days is trying to remodel 12 Grimmauld Place for him and the kids. Draco Malfoy is recovering from his wife’s death. But is happy with his Ministry position as Temporary Head of the Department of Intoxicating Substances, and with his son who he adores. This all changes quickly when Minister Shacklebolt decides not to run for another term. The assumption is that ‘all is well’ in the British Magical world, and that Hermione Granger-Weasley will easily be voted in as the next Minister for Magic. However, Draco knows better. He knows she has a strong competitor who is wooing those who live in Knockturn. And if he wins, the Ministry, and all that has been accomplished the previous twenty odd years, will be destroyed. Rec Post

In Bad Faith by fencer_x, SoldSeparately @fencer-x @secretartlair

Draco Malfoy just can’t catch a break. Between the magical curse upon his bloodline, his hair misbehaving, and that strange pit full of demons in his basement that he had absolutely nothing to do with, it just hasn’t been a banner year for him. Luckily, Harry Potter is here to make things ten times worse. Rec Post

Anatomy of a Wolf Heart by orphan_account

MALFOY HEIR FOUND ALIVE IN WEREWOLF FIGHTING RING Three years ago at the tragic Battle that freed our great Wizarding World from the grip of a megalomaniac Dark Wizard, He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, our world lost many Witches and Wizards. Among the dead and missing was Draco Malfoy, the only son of notorious Death Eaters Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy, both of whom volunteered their home for He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named to use as a headquarters. Sources have confirmed that the young Malfoy took a vow to follow in his parents footsteps by taking the Dark Mark. Inside sources have uncovered that the Malfoy heir has been found alive. Aurors recently went undercover to expose a fighting ring involving illegal potions and unregistered werewolves. Among those rescued was Draco Malfoy. Rec Post art by @tiefkuhltruhe

Fool Me Twice by iota @sorrybutblog

The case seemed simple: follow the corruption, bring down the source. Draco just didn’t anticipate Harry Potter crashing in, taking a break from red carpets and nudey-rudey photoshoots to make a giant mess. Or: Draco is an Unspeakable. Potter is an (unfairly attractive) thorn in his side. Rec Post

Inertia by cavendishbutterfly @cavendishbutterfly

It’s three months after the war. Harry has already mucked up all his plans. Draco is no longer the prince of Slytherin house. And they sure as hell didn’t both mean to go back to Hogwarts at the same time. Cue snarking, long conversations…and unexpected snogging. This is the story of how Harry and Draco put their past aside. And then it’s the story of how they finally learn to listen to it. Rec Post

Eager for the Sky by oknowkiss @oknowkiss

It was announced, just as the Triwizard Tournament had been, at the start of term feast. A year-long, international Quidditch varsity match — the inaugural Wizarding Academy Cup. In which Harry is Hogwarts’ star Seeker, Draco is on the bench, and they both have a thing or two to learn about playing for the same team. Rec Post

Once Upon a (Wet) Dream by InnerLilith

Once a year, Harry has a very strange dream. Meanwhile, in real life, he’s falling for Draco Malfoy. Rec Post

The Faeries, the Prince, and the Cupboard by makeitp1nk @makeitp1nk

In 1967, Roy Disney made a deal with a rare species of fae to build his brother Walt’s dream on their land. Forty-seven years later, that deal will change the lives of two wizarding families forever. A story about stories, family, dreams, and love. Rec Post

The Wonder of You by Ladderofyears @ladderofyears

A Family Man AU. In the year 2000, Harry left Draco behind in London, intent on America and Quidditch fame and never looked back. Thirteen years later, Harry gets the opportunity to see what his life could have been like, had his life unravelled in a different way. Nothing in Harry’s world is the same, but Harry soon comes to realise that fatherhood, marriage and the biggest, laziest Crup in Hogsmeade add to up a life he enjoys more than he could ever have imagined. Rec Post

Here are a few more fics I've read recently that y'all might like to check out as well!(ノﾟ∀ﾟ)ノ━☆ﾟ･*:.｡. .｡.:*･.*･｡ﾟ*:・ﾟ✧

To have a Home by Aulophobia

Not quite a decade after the war, Draco Malfoy was happy with his quiet little Muggle life in Oxford. He had a small group of friends from the university he’d attended, and colleagues from the law firm where he worked as a solicitor. He played folk music on his violin around the city. And he volunteered to provide legal services getting mostly idiot teenagers out of trouble with the law. His life was full. He had no contact with the magical world, and all was the way he liked it. And the feeling of emptiness in his chest, the feeling some part of him was missing, was at least better than the alternative. Or at least it was until the last few months when he kept getting called down to the police station to get Harry Potter out of trouble. Indecent exposure and possession was one thing, but the latest charge was for murder. OR Harry and Draco find each other again after the war in Oxford, a completely non-magical city. Together they solve the mystery of the city which hates all wizards but them.

[ART] Harry Potter Gets a Job (A 106-Page Comic) by dustmouth

Harry returns home from Romania to find Arthur Weasley has a new apprentice, and there's an extra place set for dinner.

Here's The Pencil, Make It Work by ignatiustrout @6balls

Harry thinks "Why is Malfoy working in a coffee shop in muggle London?" is a much simpler question than, "Are you going to accept that auror offer and, if you don't, what will you do?"

Tapestry by Kbrick @kbrick

In 2017, Harry is on his way to Pansy and Luna's beach house. He’s a bit terrified of seeing Draco, to be honest. It’s been a while, and then there’s the little matter of Draco having married someone else in the interim. In 2001, Draco is drunk, wearing Pansy's mother's ermine coat, and afraid to walk into the Leaky because someone might throw a curse at him. So, of course, he runs into his ex-nemesis and hopeless crush, Harry Potter. This is a love story that isn't perfect, about two people whose timing is never quite right, and all the moments that come together to make something extraordinarily beautiful anyway.

Sense of Doubt by FibromyalGIA

Normalcy is driving Harry insane, and just when he thinks it can't get any worse, he's invited to Draco Malfoy's hearing as a witness. Drama ensues.

Canary Creams and New Yellow Paint by dothechachaslide

It’s not Draco’s fault that Potter is seeing things and Scorpius’s campaign to be the Ministry’s Creature Liaison is struggling, it’s not. Draco didn’t ask for Potter to walk into his Ocularistry Clinic in Northern Ireland fifteen years after they last saw each other, demanding to know why the Spectroculars Draco invented malfunctioned while Potter was painting and cost him an eye. Scorpius hadn’t asked for any of that either, though, so when Potter and the rest of Draco’s patients start to see mysterious symbols through their prosthetic eyes, and the resulting blow to Draco’s public reputation drags Scorpius’s campaign through the mud, Draco is determined to fix it. If that means trudging through a boggy moor in search of a fictional species Luna thinks is causing their problems, Draco will just have to pluck up the courage, march in with a team of Gryffindors, and be ready to battle any beast they meet. Even if that beast looks less like the large, bipedal talking toads they find and more like the Ministry of Magic as a whole.

( •ॢ◡-ॢ)-♡ I hope you enjoy these fics as much as I have! Happy reading, y’all! xoxo, Carey  (◍•ᴗ•◍)♡ ✧*💜💙💚💛❤💗💕💖

[the-kcm-muggleborn]

Kind For You

Fandom: Hogwarts Legacy

O/C: Sebastian Sallow x Edwart Thompson x Ominis Gaunt ✨️platonic✨️ (My OC)

Warnings: slight swearing shit

Word count: 1056.

Chapter 2

Part 5

"What did you get for question 3?” Sebastian asked.

“Expelliarmus.” Ominis answered as he was pouring himself some pumpkin juice.

Throughout the following days. Sebastian, Ominis and Edwart started spending dinners together. Sharing assignments, chats, food and even a table. Other students were looking at them funny sometimes.

“I have some things I need to attend to.” Edwart spoke rather suddenly after eating his porridge. “I'll probably be back in the late evening.”

“What do you have planned? Ominis asked as he bit into his toast.

“A fellow housemate sent me information about a ghost which might be able to help me find those missing pages from the book I've found in the restricted section. It would really help me before Professor Fig returns from the ministry.”

Sebastian and Ominis were silent and nearly looked at eachother with the same confused looks already thought that asking questions wouldn't bring much if the new student hadn't gotten all the information to share.

“It's all very complex and I've promised to explain everything which I will when it gets sorted out. For now it looks like I'm to have a trip to Upper Hogsfield…”

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

Edwart looked again at the combination of numbers on the houses in the village and the numbers he scribbled in his notebook:

Eldritch Diggory,

Helen Thristlewood

Upper Hogsfield 16.

“Hm. This must be the place Minister Diggory mentioned.” Edwart thought to himself and knocked a few times.

“Yes?” An older woman opened the door.

“Hello Madam Thistlewood. My name's…”

“Ah yes.” She said excitedly. “You're that hufflepuff student. Uncle Eldritch did tell me you might come. Come in! Come in! I'll set the tea. Would you like some?”

“No thank you, your uncle said we might be able to help each other. Would you elaborate?”

Madam Thistlewood explained an entire long story about Richard Jackdaw, Apollonia Black and Anne, a prisoner in Azkaban.

“So let me get this in order.” Edwart said with furrowed eyebrows. “You want me to travel to Azkaban with you so I can speak to a woman who has been sitting there for the past decades in hope that she somehow has an answer to Richard Jackdaw's cave wherever it is. And all that is a clue, not a certainty.” Edwart finished unconvinced.

“Yes I suppose one can put it like that. It has to be you though. You could be a fresh breeze to her which could help her talk.”

“Well I'd rather not go to Azkaban. Is there no other way to help?”

“I'm afraid not. I will be right there with you being a retired auror does have its benefits, we can simply apparate right to her. I've escorted Ministers. professors. and many others to that blasted place. Never a student, I'll admit, but I will keep you safe.”

“Very well. Let’s go.”’

“Steady yourself. We'll Apparate together. Don't worry, l've never splinched anyone”

Edwart heard a snap and felt an unsettling change of air which made him nauseous.

“Shit.” He thought “I'm going to barf. Apparating is rough.”

Before he understood what has happened around him he heard a scream: “Expecto Patronum” A beautiful bunny made out of light came out of Madam Thistlewood's wand and busted through the dementors as she spoke again.

“That ought to keep them at bay for now. Though, be aware - you may feel a wave of despair. It will pass. This really is a dismal place. But we'll be out of here soon enough Now, follow me.”

“No one at school's going to believe this…”

Edwart thought while taking in the awfully cold surroundings of Azkaban. Somehow he did manage to drag the information about the cave from Anne even though her mental state was up to question especially after she attacked Madam Thistlewood without using any weapon. Edwart didn't know what had just happened. He was left in Upper hogsfield in pursuit of that cave.

Finally after all that time. Edwart found Richard Jackdaw who promised to help him as he most likely dropped the pages in the forbidden forest.

Edwart finally sat on the grass taking a breather for a second. He took out his pocket watch and noticed it was time he should head back to the castle but he had to get those pages back…

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

Sebastian and Ominis were in the great hall eating breakfast. Edwart was supposed to meet them yesterday at the dinner but when he never showed up, Sebastian felt uneasy.

Finally Edwart stumbled in for breakfast. He had enormous bags under his eyes and he was looking paler than usual.

“Merlin what happened to you?” Sebastian bewilderedly asked “You look like you haven't slept in a week.”

Edwar took a seat next to Ominis and groaned a bit. “Very funny. I’ve had the worst night of my life.” He said, grabbing a toast and basically devouring it.

“We thought we were going to see you at dinner yesterday. What happened?” Sebastian asked curiously.

Edwart swallowed quickly and responded “That was a plan. But I had to get those missing pages I was talking about. Turned out. Out of all the places it was in the forbidden forest.”

Sebastian choked on his pumpkin pastry.

“Merlin are you alright?” Ominis asked with a hint of shock in his voice.

“Who are you asking me or Edwart?” Sebastian asked with laughter

“Both. Are you both okay?” Ominis replied with a small grin.

“Anyway I got caught sneaking back in got in big trouble with one of the Professors and since Fig is not here-”

Just then the Owl’s started flying about delivering mail which interrupted Edwart's story. Sebastian got a letter from Anne. He smiled when it landed in his hands.

Just when they thought the owl storm had come to an end. Edwart’s owl Barney dropped a letter onto his lap. He picked the letter up from his lap with a tense grimace.

“What is it, who's sending you letters?” Sebastian asked curiously.

“I-” Edwart stumbled upon his words as he flipped the letter. “Shit, that's not good…I have to go. I- I have that flying class anyway.” With that Edwart ran out of the great hall at the speed of light.

Sebastian signed heavily “I wish he would be more open with us.”

“Give it time Sebastian.” Ominis replied flatly.

- - - - - - - - - AUTOR'S NOTES- - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Thank you for reading part 5. Sorry this one a bit short;/ ."I'd rather NOT go to azkaban" haha same Edwart same. Azkaban time for all my hufflepuff babies. Wonder what's that letter Edwart got...? Small disclamer: I made the photos look darker so they fit the Azkaban's ambience. Hope you enjoyed it. More to come soon.

Part 6

[flamboyantly-incompetent]

HPB, Chapter 1 - A Vague Warning

Draco Malfoy x Hufflepuff!Reader

Warnings: mentions of murder

Masterlist

Word Count: ~3,200

Note: Welcome to the second part of my Draco x reader fic, taking place during the events of Half Blood Prince!

Since the full, public reveal of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named’s return at the end of your last school year, he and his Death Eaters had come out of hiding more and more to wreak havoc and violence across the wizarding and muggle worlds alike.

Donna and Yvette had both carefully explained to their muggle parents the dangers of them accompanying them to places such as Diagon Alley, where not even the witch and wizard locals were safe. Most shops either had boarded up a few front-facing windows, or, if you squinted from the right angle, you could make out the glimmer of a magical ward. Your mum and Julien insisted on accompanying you and your friends through the shops, and afterwards Donna and Yvette both came back to stay with you until it was time to head to King’s Cross.

Even with the world as it was crumbling around you, the book list for your O.W.L. year was as long as it had ever been. The three of you sat around your living room, flipping through textbooks with growing trepidation while your mum and Julien worked in the garden outside. Buttercup, your King Charles Spaniel, had her head across Donna’s lap, and Wilbur, your white cat, bathed in the warm glow of the open window. Hagrid hadn’t even assigned a textbook for Care of Magical Creatures, so at this point, you were just trying to kill time before leaving for King’s Cross.

Yvette sighed dramatically and closed her book with a clap. “This sucks. Are we even going to be allowed to go to Hogsmeade now?”

“That’s what you’re worried about?” Donna asked incredulously. “Not the rising kill count of Dark Wizards abroad?”

Yvette huffed. “Well obviously, I thought that went without saying. But I’m sure that between the Order, Ministry Aurors and Dumbledore someone will put a stop to that. I just don’t want the world to stop spinning until they have. Is that so wrong?”

Donna raised her eyebrows but said nothing, electing instead to scratch behind Buttercup’s floppy ear.

You chimed in, “Some normalcy would be nice. And I doubt the only all-wizard village in Britain is at the top of You-Know-Who’s hit list. Aurors frequent The Three Broomsticks. Fudge used to frequent The Three Broomsticks. As for the new Minister, we’ll see.”

Just then your mum poked her head through the door, brandishing a trowel as she spoke, “You should be perfectly safe in Hogsmeade, but you must keep your wits about you! And stick together, no wandering off to look for Puffskein burrows this year, Y/N. Now, get your trunks together, we’re almost done out here.”

After a long, heartfelt goodbye to Buttercup and coaxing Wilbur into his carrier with a tuna flavored treat, you piled your trunks into the magically expanded trunk of Julien’s station wagon. Your parent’s accompanied you all the way to your first steps onto the train, hands hovering above their wands, where you found Herbert waiting for you in an empty compartment.

He grinned and lent a hand as you and your friends shoved your trunks into the overhead compartments. “Ernie and Hannah may join us later,” he said, “once they do their rounds.”

Donna laughed. “Hey Y/N, remember when I thought you might be dating Ernie?”

“What?” Yvette asked sharply. “Have I missed something?”

“No,” you said firmly, “it was just because of the DA meetings. Before you guys knew about it.”

Donna continued to tease, “The two of you strolled into the common room pretty late. He even opened the door for you.”

The train’s whistle screamed out and the car lurched.

Yvette’s eyebrows creased. “Well, to be fair, you could certainly do worse.”

Herbert was shocked. “Do you like Ernie?”

“No, no. Nothing like that. But he’s nice, though. And he made a good dueling partner.” She shrugged. “I wouldn’t judge if you did like him, Y/N.”

“Well that’s very nice but-” you stopped short as Wilbur’s paw began reaching out of his carrier and swiping at your shirt. “D’you think Ernie and Hannah’d mind if I let him out?”

The compartment door slid open.

“Surely not, go ahead,” Hannah said, entering the compartment with Ernie close behind. Wilbur gave the air a sniff before climbing out, stretching dramatically, and curling up on your lap. He allowed Hannah to pat his head.

“You seem in good spirits today, Hannah,” Donna remarked.

She laughed, and explained, “Prefect duty was just unusually pleasant this time round.”

Ernie scoffed. “Yeah, since Malfoy’s taking the day off, apparently.” A jolt plunged through your gut - you’d somehow forgotten another year at Hogwarts meant another year hearing about him. You still felt conflicted - no, conflicted wasn’t the right word. Angry, yes, at him for being exactly who everyone else had told you he was, since he was the kind of person who could use the terms blood traitor and mudblood in the same sentence. His father even had been arrested at the Ministry last year, undeniably in league with You-Know-Who. There was an entire article in the Daily Prophet about it, explaining that the Malfoy’s (apparently very old and very large) family mansion had been raided shortly after. Oddly enough, learning that had sparked some level of sympathy, for Draco at least. It had to have been difficult for him, even if his father deserved it. And you were also disappointed in yourself, that who you were beginning to think he was happened to be so far off the mark.

With any luck, your Herbology 6 would be with Gryffindor and Hufflepuff and you could avoid him altogether.

The train ride to Hogwarts was pleasant - the sun came out halfway through to cast a warm glow on the countryside, and Ernie and Herbert swapped stories about Peeves. When the snack trolley rolled by, everyone pooled together some Galleons to split a box of twenty chocolate frogs, then you opened all of them to trade cards.

Once settled in the Great Hall for the feast, you turned to Yvette to speculate about the new Defense Against the Dark Arts professor. He was a short man, with a round face and a mustache, and a snappy dresser. No one seemed to have any idea who he was. Then, once the pudding was unveiled, Professor Dumbledore arose and took his place by the great owl podium.

You half-listened to his welcome speech, really only interested in the new professor, and whether he had anything to say about You-Know-Who, and you didn’t have to wait long. Professor Slughorn, an old colleague of Dumbledore’s, had returned to resume his old positions as potions master. Potions? You looked around confused at your housemates, then over to the Ravenclaw table where a similar bout of confusion had struck.

Dumbledore continued to explain, “Professor Snape, meanwhile, will be taking over the position of Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher.” Another uproar followed and you sank into your pudding. There went the hope of an O.W.L. for that subject.

It was a relief to learn that your Herbology 6 period was, in fact, with Gryffindor and Hufflepuff, and it pleased Hannah and Ernie too, to know they could whisper questions in your ear whenever it suited them. Most of the Gryffindor sixth years you had already met through the DA meetings, and some of them even remembered you enough to ask what you were doing in the class.

The potions classroom had undergone a subtle change for the better. Under Professor Snape’s reign, the lighting had always seemed cast in that same cold-green glow you’d encountered in the Slytherin common room, but here it was almost cheerful. Almost. Though it was accompanied by Professor Slughorn grinning at the door and shaking hands enthusiastically with every student as they filtered in. Luna seemed particularly comfortable, launching off immediately about her father’s publication, The Quibbler, when asked. It was, easily, the best Potions class you’d ever sat through.

Professor Snape, in Defense Against the Dark Arts, had given a lengthy speech on the nebulous nature of the Dark Arts and had hinted more than once at the inferiority of Harry Potter’s instruction through Dumbledore’s Army. Thankfully, you saw a few others barely hiding their own eye rolls.

Zacharias Smith wouldn’t take no for an answer when he asked you to try out for Quidditch Keeper again this year. Apparently, since Ezra Miller had left Hogwarts, Wanda Clemm wanted to try for his spot as Beater. In the end, you relented, and thus found yourself on the Quidditch pitch with Yvette and the rest of them at the crack of dawn Saturday morning.

Herbert and Donna settled into the stands with a few others including Professor Sprout to cheer you on, and the tryouts commenced. As it turned out, Wanda Clemm made a fair beater, and beamed triumphantly when Zacharias offered her the spot. Yvette retained her position as Chaser, as did Cadwallader. Devon Summerby barely came out on top; Zacharias was not pleased, but offered him the spot anyway.

Then, Keepers were up. There were only two others vying for the spot: a fourth year you’d only met in passing, and Ernie Macmillan. You quirked an eyebrow at him, he responded with a shrug. You elected to go last, wanting to see how they did, and secretly hoping that one of them would be good enough so you wouldn’t even need to try out. Unfortunately, though, Ernie struggled greatly to turn quickly in the air, and the fourth year kept doing loop-the-loops in between the goal posts.

It was unavoidable, then, when your turn rolled around and you were able to actually block the quaffle, Zacharias offered you the spot confidently and you didn’t have the heart to say no after seeing the other options.

Yvette was characteristically excited, and her enthusiasm managed to rub off on you enough to make you grin by the time you got back to the common room.

During the week that followed, a growing foreboding grew in the air. There was a tension, a pregnant pause. You thought that maybe it was your luck avoiding Draco Malfoy wearing thin.

Then, during Herbology, Professor McGonagal had interrupted to pull Hannah out of class. She never returned. You learned later that her mum had been found, dead, earlier in the day. It was enough to remind you of the real dangers that existed just outside Hogwarts, and you had to scold yourself for forgetting. Draco Malfoy was the least of your worries.

The common room atmosphere took yet another hit. If even the Abbotts, an old pureblood family, weren’t safe, was anyone?

Zacharias, ever sensitive to the feelings of others, had reminded you brusquely of quidditch practice to take place in an hour. As anyone but Zacharias could have predicted, that practice did not go well. Everyone had one eye on the quaffle and the other on the castle in the distance, hoping that one of the people coming and going would have news about Hannah. But not one did.

You followed Yvette back to the common room after, thoroughly exhausted and hopeless, intending to flop onto bed and sleep through breakfast in the morning. When you thrust back the bed curtains, though, Wilbur sat, tail curled around him, purring happily.

“What’s that, bud?” you asked, spotting the corner of some kind of parchment under his bottom. You lured him off of it with a treat and read, “Come to the owlery at midnight, alone. It’s important. -SB.”

“SB?” you asked yourself. “Do I know anybody… maybe Silas Babbage? No, he left last year. Who in the world?”

“Talking to yourself again?” Donna asked, strolling into the room.

Yvette answered before you could, “Looks like Y/N’s got a secret admirer.”

“I do not!”

She shrugged. “Not sure who else would leave a note on your bed asking you to meet them at midnight.”

“What?” Donna exclaimed as she snatched the note out of your hands. She turned it over and over, incredulous. “SB?”

“That’s what I was just wondering.”

“Well are you going to go?”

You thought for a moment. The note gave no real indication of who you were meant to be meeting, and given the state of things, that could be dangerous. But, then again, it said to meet at the owlery so whoever sent it must be from someone already on Hogwarts grounds.

Finally, you nodded. “At worst it’s a prank, and I’ll complain about it to you both when I get back.”

You waited until the last Hufflepuff had gone to bed, Donna and Ywette Made you promise a full report before bidding you goodnight, and then you slipped out the huge round door. Wilbur had abandoned you hours ago when he realized you weren’t on your way to bed, and both Donna and Yvette had gone to sleep.

“Sipellum,” you whispered, casting the Disillusionment charm on yourself to obscure your form. It wouldn’t make you invisible, but it would be easier to hide from prefects in the dark corners of the castle. Your mum had insisted upon teaching you the incantation over the summer, and this technically was the first time you’d tried it. Surprisingly enough, it worked.

Carefully, you stepped lightly on the balls of your feet out of the castle. The outer doors were all closed except for the small courtyard between the great hall and the library’s wing, so you waited a few beats for whoever was on curfew patrol to pass, and climbed through an arch onto the grounds.

The lingering summer air made the night breeze warm, but you still shivered through your jumper. It was a clear night, too, the waxing gibbous moon illuminating the highlands sufficiently enough you never bothered to cast lumos. The owlery loomed on a hill above you.

So, you climbed.

Halfway up, you heard a muffled curse. Then another, and when you were inches from the door, “Get away, you mangy thing,” hoarsely whispered.

You tossed open the door and dismissed the spell; it was Draco Malfoy, sitting on a bench previously covered in owl droppings. Your eyes narrowed. He was shooing away a fluffy white cat, who was purring aggressively trying to head butt his leg, and yelped slightly at the sight of you.

“Wilbur!” you chided, ignoring Malfoy. “What are you doing here? Don’t touch that, you don’t know where it’s been.”

He ignored that last bit, asking, “This thing belongs to you?”

Finally, you leveled your gaze at him. The absolute gall it must’ve taken for him to summon you here tonight, after last year, astounded you. “This is my cat. Who is apparently a terrible judge of character. What in Merlin’s Beard is ‘SB’?”

He said coldly, “Study buddy.” You snorted. “It was the best I could come up with.”

“Well, I’m here. What do you want?”

He took a steadying breath. The summer hadn’t treated him well; his normally cold features were especially worn, harried even. Dark circles had appeared under his sharp eyes. He replied, “The Hufflepuff common room, is there a password?”

“Huh?”

“To get in - is there a password?”

There were barrels outside the door you had to properly knock on, and if you got the rhythm wrong you got sprayed with pumpkin juice, but you weren’t sure that really counted. “Uhh… Why’d you want to know?” He crossed his arms. “Okay, fine, not really. But it’s just outside the-“

“No, don’t tell me. Just,” he paused, hands folded in front of his mouth. “In the event there was someone attempting to enter to cause mischief, it would be advantageous for there to be some line of defense. In the Hufflepuff common room.”

You took a moment, blinking rapidly, to unravel what he could mean. “That’s… vague.” The thought of his father, a Death Eater, imprisoned in Azkaban flickered across your mind. “Do you… know something? What are you implying?”

A wall of ice descended behind his eyes once more. That was all you were going to get out of him, it would seem.

“I’ve said all I can. Goodbye, Y/N.” He turned and stalked out of the owlery, not even bothering to sneak or cast the Disillusionment charm. Still depending on his prefect status to keep him out of trouble, no doubt.

You waited a beat, fuming, wondering what the point of this meeting had been. Was it a prank? What had been the punchline? Was it possible he was actually trying to warn you of something important? Maybe he’d overheard something over summer. Or, maybe he just wanted you out of bed after hours for an excuse to dock house points.

After a heavy sigh, a groan, and a feeble kick to the bench, you recast the Disillusionment charm and went out as you came in.

“Donna,” you whispered, standing over her bed, “get up.”

“Huh? What? Ah!” She started awake, then rubbed her eyes. “Y/N, do you know what time it is?”

“Yes and this is important, get Herbert to the common room.” You moved over to Yvette’s bed and woke her next.

Your three friends assembled themselves on a plush leather sofa by the fireplace, still warm with embers, as you recounted the events of the evening, including just who was waiting for you in the owlery.

“Total transparency, I have no idea what it was all about. There wasn’t some trap waiting for me, no one jumped out to laugh. I don’t know what to make of it, “ you finished, hands folded in your lap.

Herbert frowned. “And he didn’t mention who would be trying to get into our common room?”

“No. Only that if someone were to try, for the purpose of causing mischief, it’d be better if there was a password. Or some other thing, I guess.”

Donna pondered. “And it didn’t seem like he was trying to trick you? He never asked where the common room was, though, right? So it’s probably not him playing some long-gamed prank.”

You shook your head. “At first I thought that must be it, right? Why on earth else would he go to these lengths to get me alone at midnight. It’s possible he was just testing how far I would go for a mystery. Or for some weird misdirection. But if I had to put words to it, he seemed… almost… afraid.”

“If you thought he looked afraid, he was probably terrified. That git’s facade could fool a boggart.”

Yvette shrugged. “After everything that happened last year, do you trust him?”

You let out a bark of laughter. “No. I don’t trust him. But I’m inclined to believe him. About the possibility of a threat, I mean.” They were quiet as you pondered. Beyond the grounds of Hogwarts, darkness was spreading fast. You knew they lived in fear of receiving similar news as Hannah had, and though you were loathe to admit it, so did you. It seemed unwise to ignore such a warning from someone who might have inside information. Thinking of just who that information could have come from, you shuddered.

Finally, Donna nodded. “I don’t think this is the sort of thing we ignore.”

Herbert agreed, “So how do we fortify an enchanted room, in an enchanted castle, under our teachers’ and everyone else’s noses?”

~~~ Taglist ~~~

@jemomgershippingco

@snickersmee

@lafrone

@cillshot

@reb0rned

[gaygryffindorgal]

WORLD WAR I AND THE WIZARDING WORLD – A MASTERPOST

by @potionboy3, @cursed-herbalist, and myself

A compilation of information and useful links we've utilized for our WW1 verse! This masterpost will include canon material, actual history, and plot points we've come up with ourselves. Non-canon information will be indicated, but please note that it will be considered canon within the WW1 verse!

Will be updated regularly!

Table of Contents:

The Basics

The Wizarding War Effort

Wizarding Politics in the 1910s

1. The Basics:

The Muggle World:

World War I (28 July 1914 – 11 November 1918), often abbreviated as WWI, was one of the deadliest global conflicts in history. It was fought between two coalitions, the Allies and the Central Powers. Fighting took place throughout Europe, the Middle East, Africa, the Pacific, and parts of Asia.

The Allies, or the Entente Powers, were an international military coalition of countries led by France, the United Kingdom, Russia, the United States, Italy, and Japan against the Central Powers or Central Empires of Germany, Austria-Hungary, the Ottoman Empire, and Bulgaria. [X]

Useful links: Interactive global First World War map World War I, an in-depth video World War I oversimplified, part 1 & part 2 Infantry Battallions Explained (this is actually a look into the use of Vickers machine gun in history but the graph was useful)

The Wizarding World:

During the war, British Minister for Magic Archer Evermonde was responsible for passing emergency legislation forbidding wizards and witches from getting involved, in an attempt to prevent mass breaches of the International Statue of Secrecy. This did not prevent thousands of wizards from discreetly aiding Muggles wherever they could. Minister Evermonde's position drew the public condemnation of Wizengamot member Henry Potter, which caused a minor stir at the time. Henry's outspoken pro-Muggle views were one of the chief reasons for the Potter family's exclusion from the Sacred Twenty-Eight. [X]

Useful links (there really is very little in the HP canon about this period): First World War, Harry Potter Wiki Theseus Scamander, Harry Potter Wiki

2. The Wizarding War Effort:

Most witches and wizards were not directly involved with the war, though their lives were certainly affected by it to varying degrees. While the Ministry passed legislation to forbid wizards from participating in the war, it did not neglect it completely. In addition to the witches and wizards who aided muggles illegally, there were several different programs started by the ministry, such as the Owl Air Force*, Intelligence operations by the Auror Department, and Magizoologist operations (Like Newt Scamander and the Ukrainian Iron Bellies at the Eastern Front).

(*The Owl Air Force might have been an illegal operation but we've chosen to make it part of the Ministry. Canon isn't clear on which it was.)

The Auror Department:

This is part of WW1 verse, and not mentioned in canon.

Volunteer aurors were trained to join muggle armies to make sure there was no illegal usage of magic among the ranks. They were also tasked with gathering intelligence, tracking down dark wizards (and other dissenters), and even infiltrating and spying on the Central Powers.

3. Wizarding Politics in the 1910s

People of Note:

British Minister for Magic: Archer Evermonde, in office 1912-1923

Evermonde took office in 1912, after the mysterious passing of his predecessor Venusia Crickerly. Some certainly suspected foul play, but nevertheless Evermonde enjoyed the trust of the population enough that he managed to push through several legislations, including the ban of wizarding involvement in the First World War.

Archer Evermonde, Harry Potter Wiki FC: Gabriel Byrne

Head of The British Auror Department: Willard Hartford (WW1 verse canon)

The Hartofrd family had established itself as a family of aurors a couple of generations ago, so it was only natural for Willard to pursue the career. He became Head Auror in 1911. He is the boss of Ares Gaunt and Lunas Avery, among others.

FC: Jim Sturgess

The Supreme Mugwump: Gala De Lange (WW1 verse canon)

Gala served as the Dutch Minister for Magic before becoming the Supreme Mugwump. She is known for her neutrality and insistence upon the non-involvement of wizards in the muggle conlifct.

FC: Famke Janssen

The German Minister for Magic: Waldemar Munter (WW1 verse canon)

lore tbd

FC: Sebastian Koch

Head of The German Auror Department: Anton Vogel (WW1 verse canon)

During the war Vogel served as the head of the German auror department. He later became the German Minister for Magic and the Supreme Mugwump. He is the father of Alexej Kavinsky. Vogel's motivations are shrouded in mystery and eventually he becomes involved in the plans of the dark wizard Gellert Grindelwald.

FC: Oliver Masucci Harry Potter Wiki Page

The General Political Climate: (WW1 verse canon)

Across Europe, many witches and wizards were not happy with the war and saw that it was the muggles who were to blame for such chaos and violence. There was a rise in blood-purist ideology, as well as isolationism and anti-muggle sentiment.

Minister Evermonde wanted to keep out of the war as much as possible, and this, if anything, was a reflection of many of his other policies too. He did not wish to effect change, instead he was a traditionalist who was comfortable keeping up the status quo. While he was not overtly blood-purist, he did not do anything to speak for muggleborns, squibs, or any of the groups classified as "creatures".

Mistreatment of minorities & Blood-purism:

As we see the Ministry still being a cesspool of bigotry and corruption in Harry's time in the 1990s, it can be safely assumed that things were not better during the beginning of the century. The radical organization TOWER fuelled the vitriol towards muggles and muggleborns, creating a scapegoat for all the frustration and anger.

TOWER

The Transnational Order of Wizards' Exposure Right is an anti-muggle organization dedicated to toppling the British Ministry of Magic but it operates across all of Europe. They use any means necessary to advance their goals and their existance is known only to few. Their power lies within their secrecy.

TOWER Masterpost (link to be added)

[sitp-recs]

Hey liv!! Do you have any recs of fics where there's an imbalanced power dynamic between them or an exploration of that..I guess it is sexual in a way but also not only in that aspect. I just read sth like this and thought it would be an interesting theme between harry and draco. It doesn't need to be a main thing in the plot..Thank you in advance! Kisses 💋

Hi anon! Yes, I’ve read a few fics like that and it can be a fascinating dynamic indeed! Most fics I thought about explore the teacher x student and boss x employee relationships. I hope you enjoy these:

Defined Parameters by Amelior8or (E, 4k)

Harry is a security officer on a ship stuck in the far end of the Delta Quadrant. Malfoy is the Maquis First Officer they tentatively have an alliance with. If they're going to spend the next 70,000 lightyears together, they need to define the parameters of their power. They just so happen to define it on the Holodeck, during a bout of Turkish oil wrestling.

Love, Actually, is All Around by punk_rock_yuppie (T, 10k)

It's Christmastime, and Harry has just started as the new Minister of Magic. It just so happens that Draco works in his office as well, a holdover from Kingsley's tenure. Naturally, love is in the air.

Crutch by AWickedMemory (T, 11k)

Harry has too much to do, and Draco, too little. The solution? Hire him, of course. Who knew Draco Malfoy would be such a perfect personal assistant?

Little Talks by Femme and noeon (E, 11k)

Draco's been shagging the Head Auror for months now, and he's sure it's just a fling. Until Harry asks him to a Quidditch match, that is, and things go horribly wrong.

Rebuilding Draco Malfoy by khasael (E, 11k)

Draco wants to do something to get his life back on track, but no-one seems to be taking him seriously – until he finds himself in an Auror training session led by Harry Potter.

Exiled by A_factorygirl_69 (E, 16k)

Draco is declared persona non grata by the Ministry after the War. Harry has been tasked with keeping an eye on him, ensuring he stays out of England.

UnKnown by DorthyAnn (M, 23k)

Draco just wanted a second chance, he was willing to work hard, he was willing to do whatever it took, but no one would let him live down his past. But when he recklessly casts a spell promising a new life, he's not prepared for the consequences...

The Four Doors by fluxweed (E, 49k)

It’s been four months since Harry lost his memory. Four months of dead ends and no answers. With time running out until his memories are gone for good, Harry agrees to a course of Legilimency therapy with a renowned specialist: Mind Healer Draco Malfoy.

By the Grace by lettered (T, 140k)

Harry is an Auror instructor. Malfoy wants to be an Auror.

Tales From the Special Branch by Femme (E, WIP)

When Gawain Robards asks him to form Special Branch seven-four-alpha, Harry Potter knows they'll have to work outside the confines of the law--even though they are the law.