#beckett simpleton

[silverhallow]

🎭Fortunes Fool🎭

Chapter 2 "Sin from my lips? O trespass sweetly urged! Give me my sin again."

⭐️Masterlist⭐️

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Pairing: Benedict Bridgerton x Sophie Beckett

Chapter summary: Things start to spice up for our Romeo and Juliet

Warnings: Oral Sex (M to F), Fingering,

Word count: 4813

The clock seemed to move so slowly towards eight o'clock that evening. After the rehearsal, Benedict went home and surprised his mum by refusing dinner. Instead, he went to the bathroom and took a long shower, making sure he was as clean as clean could be, he wanted to look his best for Sophie. 

He couldn't be certain that Sophie wanted to do anything... intimate... Perhaps she just wanted to practise the scenes, go over their lines, ensure that the play would be a huge success. But Benedict couldn't stop thinking about the possibility that she might want to see how far their wonderful kiss might go unchecked and out of sight of the other play performers and Kate.

He felt it was all so unreal, this seemed so unlikely, an invisible nobody like him, thinking, hoping, he would be given a chance with somebody like Sophie. A beauty like her. He felt like the ugly duckling that had woken up one morning to find he was a magnificent swan.

And the biggest hint had to be that Sophie hadn't wanted him to let Kate know he was coming over.

As eight o'clock approached, he found the address she'd written on that piece of paper  she must have written it before that rehearsal and headed out to find her house. Thankfully his mum didn’t ask any questions but sat with a smirk on her face. Benedict had a feeling Anthony must have said something or made an assumption about where he was going and told their mother. 

Somewhat unsurprisingly, her house was in the super wealthy side of town, Penwood Park, no less, and when he turned up at the gate, Benedict's jaw dropped in awe. It was a mammoth house, a mansion! Her Dad had to be very well-off. Business directors, lawyers, surgeons or something lived in this side of town. He hadn’t realised that her father was actually Richard Gunningworth, he had never put two and two together given the surname but seeing the house… it was a new build property and honestly, Benedict felt so out of place. Bridgerton House wasn’t exactly small but this dwarfed their home and he never thought that would be easy.

He felt very small walking up the drive to the front door. And as he stood on the porch in front of the door, he felt very nervous. He wasn't exactly experienced with girls, what if he mis-read her signals? It could all go so badly wrong... And at the edge of his mind there was Kate, who would somehow organise his destruction if she found out he wasn't keeping his distance from her best friend.

"Benedict!"

He didn't have time to be nervous before he even rang the doorbell, his fingers literally about to press the button, the door opened and there was Sophie, looking divine as usual. Tonight, with her mousy hair tied in a long ponytail, she was dressed in a pair of soft grey sweatpants and a spotless white tank-top that left her midriff tantalisingly bare as well as the soft swell of the top of her pert breasts, which made it difficult for Benedict to keep his eyes on hers.

"Uh... hi..." he said.

"I'm so glad you made it!" She leaned forward and kissed him on the cheek. She was wearing a trace of perfume – just enough to heighten her femininity, catch his attention, but not enough to swamp him or asphyxiate him.

“Uh..." he felt like a simpleton, his tongue tripping over itself. She was so gorgeous, how could he concentrate on the play with her looking like that?

"Come on up to my room," she said, closing the door behind him, then leading him up the sumptuous staircase that led around the entrance hall up to a landing in the huge house. Benedict wondered where Sophie's dad was, dreading meeting him a little, he wasn't dressed in particularly expensive clothes, he had a loose chequered shirt on with a pair of oldish jeans, and he had just taken off his boots, he'd probably present a poor impression.

"You know, Kate's been warning me about you," she said as they walked.

"She has?"

"Yeah. She thinks you're a geek because you're not into football or rugby… you know the typical for the popular crowd "

"Oh," he said, not so much surprised that Kate thought he was a geek, but that Sophie would reveal her secrets to him like that.

"You know, I used to think you were a bit of a geek too, a cute geek but still…," she said with an amused glance, "that was before you really opened my eyes." 

His heart was pounding again, he was almost surprised she couldn't hear it, it was so loud, so forceful. What was she saying?

"You know, I think it's easy to see anyone outside your social circle as a bit of a geek," she said. "I mean, you probably weren't particularly fond of me before... well... anyway, here we are, this is my room!" 

Sophie's bedroom! He was standing in Sophie Beckett's bedroom. What kind of a miracle of fate was that? If Anthony had told him that one day he'd be standing in Sophie Beckett’s bedroom, would have laughed his socks off and urged him to go see a shrink. But here he was.

It was an immense bedroom, Benedict was pretty sure that you could have put his, and Anthony's room in her bedroom. Spacious, light, breezy, it had no clothes lying about like in the normal teenager's bedroom and everything was spotless.

"You like it?" she asked.

"Uh... yeah..."

"It's got a gorgeous view, too. We only moved in a few months ago after Dad divorced, he had planned for us all to move in but now it’s just the two of us, bit mad really given the size but he wanted away from her and he had said she would only get this place over his dead body...." She grinned as she closed the bedroom door, shutting them into the great luxurious bedroom. "Now," she said, a flicker of fire in her eyes, "let's get down to business, shall we?"

Benedict pulled out his copy of Romeo & Juliet from his back pocket, and said: "Where do you want to go from?"

He looked up to find her right there, standing just inches away from him.

"I want to go from where you kiss me," she said, and leaned towards him raising herself slightly on her tiptoes, her soft lips touching gently against his before opening up into a sweet, gentle kiss.

It was amazing, the sweetest experience ever, she kissed him and brought her hands up to support his head as she did so, while he found his hands moving to her back, pulling her towards him, kissing her back, so tenderly, so sweetly.

It went on for an age and a while, and periodically he would open his eyes as if to check he wasn't dreaming. She was so beautiful, lips locked to his, tight little body pressed to his, her exquisite scent filling his lungs.

Benedict was trembling when they finally broke apart, but Sophie was beaming broadly, an ecstatic smile on her pretty features.

"You are so amazing," she said breathlessly. "I didn't know it was possible to kiss someone like that."

Benedict was speechless.

"Are you okay?" she asked.

"Yeah," he said, worried he would freak her out or something. "I've just never known anyone as beautiful as you."

She blushed slightly, and kissed him briefly again. "You're the sweetest thing, you know that?" she said, before continuing, "Do You think we should practice that scene where Romeo and Juliet are on the bed together?"

"Wh-what scene was that?" he asked rather dumbly, not taking the hint.

"Oh, I think it was in the deleted scenes," she joked, "Shakespeare had to cut it because the studio kept bitching about running time."

She smiled, lust in her eyes, and pulled him over to her bed. Damn, she was gorgeous. Benedict felt the tightness inside his pants, he hoped she wouldn't notice just how strong her affect was on him.

Lying there next to him, she pulled the copy of Romeo & Juliet from his hands and tossed it over to the bedside table. "You're so sweet, bringing the script," she said. "I mean, wasn't it obvious I didn't want to practice my lines with you?"

"Well, I guess but I don’t have any experience with this so I didn’t want to assume anything..." he said, trying to appear confident but failing miserably. How could he possibly have known for certain she didn't want to run over the lines? "Besides I... I thought you were with John," he said, surprising himself by bringing up the issue of Sophie's boyfriend. On second thought, he was pleased he had brought it up, it had to be brought up, he didn’t want to be used. He didn’t want to be in the middle of a messy break up, or Sophie cheating on John or something so he had to bring it up.

"John's a big dumb idiot," she said. "He's like a gorilla, he treats me like a trophy and I'm sick of it. I only ever went out with him because it felt expected of me you know. Peer pressure and all that? But we were never actually you know… boyfriend/Girlfriend… he’s as thick as two short planks but he’s the typical alpha-male you know… Kate and Tom are the same, I'll bet."

"Oh," he said, every other thing Sophie said seemed to astound him.

"That time you kissed me," she said, trailing a soft finger down his cheek, "you showed me that there really can be actual tenderness between two people. I... I guess I've always gone out with guys like John. Just gone along with it."

"At least While I've known you," Benedict nodded and smiled.

"Well, I ended things with him yesterday, he came to rehearsal today to try and talk me into coming back to him but I don’t want a guy that sees me as a trophy," she said, and planted a peck of a kiss on his lips. "I don't care what anyone says, even Kate." She slipped a cool hand up under his shirt, caressing his chest, and kissed him again.

"But Kate hates me," he said, breaking away from Sophie.

"Kate doesn't hate you… she don’t know what's good for her, but she doesn’t hate you. She doesn’t understand what it’s like… I just… I don’t think she knows if you’re good enough for me… she’s very protective of me" Sophie said. But Benedict still felt slightly awkward.

He replied awkwardly: "But you two have been friends forever. If she doesn't approve, she'll be pissed at you and I don’t want to ruin your friendship."

“She doesn’t get to choose who is good enough for me. I appreciate she’s being protective but it’s my decision and I don’t think you are like the rest of them and if she is going to be like that and doesn’t want to try and understand then she shouldn't be my friend," Sophie said simply, and that was apparently that.

They lay on her bed and for a long while, just kissed. It was sensational and sensual, exploring each other's mouths, tongues dancing, lips tangling, soft like silk. Benedict was a fast learner, it seemed, because though he'd never done this before, he was soon confident.

But slightly afraid of what he was allowed or not allowed to do, so he did not try to move things further. He was happy enough to be kissing her, this most beautiful of girls, enjoying rolling around with her, running his fingers through her soft hair, caressing her cheek, her neck, nibbling gently on her lips, breathing in her sweet scent.

At length, he was conscious that they'd been in the bedroom for quite a while, and he broke apart from her, saying: "What time is it? Are your dad going to object to us being…"

"My dad is probably at some restaurant," she said, seeming flushed now, but apparently as happy as he was. "He doesn't care that much now I'm old enough to do without an adult. Is your mum expecting you?" Sophie knew the Bridgerton's had lost their father a few years ago, it was the first time she had noticed Benedict (and Anthony for that matter) after they were missing from class for a few weeks and when they came back they had looked gaunt and miserable but they kept each other strong and it had made Sophie so jealous to have a sibling like that to rely on.

"As long as I'm home by midnight there won't be a problem," he said.

"Great," she said with an impish grin, "then we've got plenty of time."

For so long, they just kissed, until it seemed that she was purposefully pressing her chest against his, was that a sign? A signal of consent for him to touch her breasts? He wasn't sure. He didn't know.

But, then she put her hand on his cock, emitting a sexy little moan as she felt his hardness, and Benedict decided that this gave him the right to touch her breasts.

She moaned louder as Benedict placed his hands tentatively on the soft rise of her breasts, and he figured that was as good as a permission. As she began to caress his erection through his pants, he began to caress her firm little breasts, slowly and gently at first as if to give her ample time to get him to stop. But she didn't want him to stop. Her moaning grew louder, more breathless.

She continued to stroke his cock through the thick material of his trousers, and slowly Benedict built up enough courage to slip his hands under her shirt. Moving so slowly, again leaving her time to stop him, tell him he was going too far, he cupped her handful-sized breasts in his palms, feeling the heat of her irresistible mounds and the stiffness of her nipples through the thin soft cotton of her bra.

For a long while, it stayed like that, again, Benedict worried he wasn't allowed to go any further. She seemed to enjoy the slow pace of their exploration. It was wonderful, really exploring each other, inch by inch, every now and then taking a fresh step, taking the risk of going a little further, really getting to know the other person’s body. 

Sure about the boundaries they had already broken through, he felt safe kissing her, caressing her, touching her breasts through her underwear. Then as her moaning and pressing against him seemed more urgent, he weighed up the risk and decided to break another boundary.

He slipped his fingers up under her bra, dipping inside it from the top to touch her incredibly soft skin under the tight cotton. He gasped at the sensational softness of her bare breasts and his first touch of her stiff little buds. Had he gone too far? No, she was smiling at him, kissing him, touching his cock through his pants, moaning as he took her hard nipples between his fingers and thumbs and began to squeeze them.

"Oh God..." she cried out, then battled to remove her top and her bra.

Benedict took in another breath in wonderment as she revealed her pert breasts to him for the first time. Unbelievable. Feeling that she was again giving him permission to go further, he began to kiss his way down her neck, then onwards to the soft pillows of her breasts. She had cute tan lines, the bare flesh of her breasts white compared to the slight brown of the rest of her skin. And her nipples were so pink, so hard.

Sophie Beckett, topless in his embrace. He could die a happy man.

Kissing his way around her exquisite breasts, he took her nipples into his hot mouth and drew out a long, loud groan. He loved that she was allowing him to take his time, that she seemed to love every caress, every touch. He didn't know and didn't care how many other guys she'd been with before, but the way she was acting now was like she'd never been touched before. It was new, exciting, exhilarating.

Then something incredible happened. He was sucking hard on one nipple, teasing the other in his hand and coaxing both breasts with his hands, periodically switching over breasts, and she seemed to be responding well to his attention. He took his time, feeling comfortable in the act though it was both intimate and dangerously close to where he thought she might say "no more". Then her moaning changed tone, growing higher in pitch, more breathless, more urgent and definitely louder.

Uncertain, he slowed and almost stopped his ministrations but she quickly pressed his head to her again, urging him in no uncertain terms to continue. He did so, and her moaning again accelerated and became more vigorous, until Benedict was worried that Sophie's dad would surely come running to find out his daughter's torment.

It grew to the point at which she was almost yelping, her body writhing underneath him. Then suddenly her whole body seemed to shake as she gasped his name and she then became silent in an instant.

"My God!" she said breathlessly, "What the hell was that?"

"A-Are you all right?" he asked her, feeling slightly worried that he'd hurt her somehow.

"My God yeah!" she said, kissing his forehead. "That was amazing…that’s never… how do you do that?"

It was only on the way home again, the clock having reached twelve in miraculously quick time, he realised that perhaps she had had an orgasm. Could girls really do that by just having their breasts touched?

He was so tired when he got home, he felt quickly asleep despite all the strange feelings rushing around his system. Would they have gone further if they'd had time? Or would that be as far as it got? How much further was further?

There were a lot of questions in his mind, not least how to deal with Kate. Sophie had said she didn't want Kate to know for a while, until she'd figured out how to tell her without ruining their close friendship.

So the next day, both Benedict and Sophie acted as though nothing had happened. But at rehearsal, there was a glint in both of their eyes, neither able to keep their eyes off the other for long and in the middle of one break, Sophie whispered to him that he should go over to her house again that evening.

That evening was the same as before: Benedict turned up on Sophie's doorstep, and was ushered into the green-and-white confines of her huge bedroom.

There, she fell into his arms again, kissing him, holding him, and it still felt very strange being so intimate with the woman he’d been lusting over for years.

"I've been craving this all day," she said as they moved towards the bed again.

"Me too," he replied, kissing her again.

She was wearing a similar tank-top again, but this time a very short blue pleated skirt. Was it a signal they were to go further? But whatever, she looked gorgeous, as ever. As she lay on the bed and patted the mattress beside her, gesturing for him to come over, he even thought he caught sight of her panties, but perhaps not.

Her legs were as gorgeous as the rest of her, toned, slightly tanned, smooth and velvety. Benedict didn't stop long to look, though, but went over to her on the bed.

Like last time, they started by kissing and touching each other, but Benedict found that he was comfortable and confident in doing anything right up until the boundaries they had reached the night before. So though they again took their time, it was much quicker before they reached the point at which they had ended things the night before.

Benedict soon had her topless before him, her perfect breasts available to be caressed and kissed, stroked and sucked. They were comfortable together with being naked from the waist up, and Sophie even began to grind her pussy on his hardness, covered by his pants, and her panties.

For a while, it seemed to Benedict that this would be as far as they would go. But then she took them one step further.

He had taken to planting kisses all around her beautifully toned stomach, which he found as much of a thrill as kissing her breasts: her midriff was stunning, and seeing it bared during the day meant that when he came to caress it with kisses, it was a real thrill. And kissing his way along the beltline of her skirt, he detected the trace of a new scent he had never encountered before, just under her subtle perfume, a slight mustiness.

As Benedict was considering this, Sophie reached down and pulled up her skirt, causing Benedict to draw in another gasp. His heart-rate soared as she revealed more of herself to him, even more personal than before, her panties at the top of those smooth legs: a little scrap of the most luxurious white lace.

That gently musty scent was thicker now, and he realised it had to be her arousal. That gave him yet another thrill. But what did she want him to do now? He moved between her legs now, and played it safe by kissing his way around her slender thighs. Though he was playing it safe, the closer he came to her pussy, the more audible her moans became.

Benedict's mind was almost on overload: her pussy was right there in front of him, covered by the flimsiest scrap of lace, apparently oozing her intoxicating scent as he caused arousal within her. Sophie Beckett, spread before him. Available. Allowing him, now, to kiss his way right close to her pretty panties, her aroma so intoxicating and strengthening every minute.

Sophie tilted her hips slightly, and raised her pussy up a little, making him aware that she wanted him to push the boundaries a bit more. He wasn't entirely sure what he was supposed to do, but as he had first touched her breasts through her underwear, he did so again with her pussy, tentatively brushing her panties from her mound down to her pussy. Her panties were wet, soaking wet, saturated with her juices, and as he touched her there, Sophie let out an especially forceful moan.

That had to be a good sign, so Benedict continued to trail his fingers around her panties, loving the heat he could feel through the delicate lace, the moisture that came from her aroused pussy. She purred and almost growled as he did so, loving his touch there.

Still, he took his time, not wanting to rush anything, wanting to indulge in every sensation he could, perhaps even teasing himself by leaving that skimpy lace barrier between himself and her pussy, the pussy of a girl he'd lusted after since he knew how to lust.

Benedict's cock was so hard underneath him, straining under his weight, but this was such an amazing experience he didn't even think about it. He was inhaling her sexual aroma with every breath, that thick musky scent that seemed to thrill him to the core. He was stroking the juicy pussy of Sophie Beckett! And she was so beautiful, writhing around as he touched her skimpy panties, her moisture seeming to saturate most of the material now, she was so aroused.

As he stroked her with his fingers, he continued to kiss around the edge of her panties, but then as the time progressed, he grew bold enough again to take the next step, planting soft kisses on her panties, tasting her moisture for the first time.

She let out another long, low moan as he pressed his hot mouth to her most sensitive area, covered only by that thin lace. He loved her flavour: it was strange at first, but he liked it. Spicy, salty, luxurious and exotic.

"Oh God..." she moaned as he ran his tongue along the groove that marked her pussy underneath the lace.

Looking up at her from that angle was so wonderful, seeing her flat stomach, cute breasts with those pebble-hard nipples, her pretty face contorted by bliss. Her eyes were closed, her hands by her side, gripping the bedclothes as she continued to writhe under his teasing mouth.

A little later, he decided he was in such a position that she would hardly stop him if he slipped a finger under the scrap of material covering her pussy. Would she? Surely not.

It was time to take the risk: he slipped a single finger under the side of her panties. She didn't stop him, and her moans even seemed to be encouraging him. He used his finger to stoke her, detecting a tidy patch of silky public hair, so real, so sexy. So soaking wet with her juices.

He was stroking this beautiful girl's mound, running his fingers through her pubic hair, and she wasn't stopping him, she wasn't outraged. She was actively urging him on by pushing her hips upwards slightly and letting out the kind of urgent moans that had indicated an approaching orgasm the previous day, he had thought.

Suddenly, his finger was gently running along the silken folds of her pussy lips, he was touching her pussy! Dipping inside her slightly for the first time, Benedict waited to see if she was comfortable with going that far. Her loudest moan yet seemed to confirm that she was. She gasped as he boldly but slowly drew his finger inside her hot, tight opening.

Sophie was so incredibly wet, her juices were slick around Benedict's finger, lubricating it as he penetrated her. Her soft walls, smouldering hot, squeezing his finger as it glided inside her as far as it could go.

"Oh Benedict..." she gasped,

Benedict saw her alarm clock, showing the time was approaching midnight, fuck he was going to have to go! He decided to take one more risk before calling it a night, there was just time to breach one more boundary, if she was willing.

Slowly, again, giving her time to object, he nudged aside her panties, revealing her pussy in all its glory for the first time. Nestled in the middle of the pale skin of her tan lines, her tidy triangle of mousy hair matched the hair on her head, and below it opened her pink, glistening flower, so juicy and tempting for him lying there.

He kissed her mound, just above her clitoris, where her pussy lips began. He kissed her there and breathed in the sweet cocktail of aromas, her perfume and her arousal in a sweet blend. She responded with a long groan, and as his kisses approached her pussy lips, she moaned more desperately, more urgently, as she had the time before as he had sucked her nipples.

"Oh fuck please ..." she moaned, which was all the pleading he needed.

He licked her pussy, tasting her juices from the source, loving her flavour. It was wonderful: salty, tangy, slightly sweet, the refined taste of femininity. Perfect. He penetrated her hot opening with his tongue, then began to really eat her, driving his tongue inside her, lapping up her free-flowing nectar. He kissed her pussy, teasing her with his tongue, brushing his nose against her clit.

His senses were entirely filled with her arousal, it was incredible to be there, to reach his arms under her shapely thighs and lock her slender hips in his grip as he feasted on her soaking pussy.

He looked up, his eyes meeting hers as she watched, still half unbelieving that he was there, lying between the legs of this mouth-watering beauty, his lips dancing with her pussy lips, his tongue slipping inside her, his nose grazing her little clitoris.

She was building up to another orgasm, her chest heaving with her deep breathing, her face flushed, her pussy seeming to tremble as he devoured her.

By the time midnight came, she screamed out his name and pressed his head to her pussy, shaking as the force of her climax took her, her juices flowing copiously into his willing mouth as a wave of energy swamped her petite form.

On his way home, he was shaking with pent up energy, what an amazing girl Sophie was! And as he went to his own bed, he had her sweet taste still on his lips and memory as he took himself in his hand and relieved his night and hoped for more of this beautiful woman

[marauders1971-1978]

YO Chapter 4 is UP!

It killed me, damn I think I jumped in with Lily too early but I managed to finish it :3

Here’s it’s AO3 link and it’s FF.Net. And the Wattpad if you’re 12.

[embeanwrites]

i know you probably have a lot of AF requests so i understand if you don’t want to do this but could you do an artemis x reader where artemis and the reader are babysitting myles and beckett? i’d really appreciate it, though feel free to decline!

Another anon: you might already have this request but could you do an artemis x reader where they’re babysitting myles and beckett? i just think it would be so cute. love your writing btw!

A/N: I’m using this request as an excuse to write C H A O S, sorry this one is a little shorter than normal!

Masterlist

“Beckett please stop!” Artemis cried out, finally fed up with his brother's antics, (Y/n) couldn’t get here fast enough. Artemis ran his hand through his hair looking at the disaster that had become the TV room. He was stressed beyond belief. He had told his mom that he could handle watching the twins alone for a couple of days, but his confidence had quickly dissolved when they had gotten into a bunch of sugar. Literal bags of sugar.

“SIMPLETON ARTY!” Beckett screeched at the top of his lungs as he continued to roll around in some crafting glitter. Artemis sighed and covered his face. She lived less than half an hour away and he was desperate for her to get here, she was always able to get Beckett to listen.

“Artemis?” Artemis quickly turned around and saw her standing in the doorway she was holding onto her backpack straps. Thank god, she packed to spend the night, Artemis had no idea what he was going to do for the next couple of days. His face must have shown how he was feeling because she started giggling.

“Please help me.” He exasperated as she walked over to Beckett, who had stopped rolling in the glitter, watching her intently.

“Whatcha doing, B?” She asked crouching down so she was at his level. Artemis watched silently as his brother smiled at his girlfriend.

“Annoying Arty!” He shouted, if his loud voice startled her she didn’t show it.

“Ah, so your favorite pastime?” She asked with a smile, she ruffled some of the glitter out of his hair. As he nodded with a toothy smile. “What do you say to getting the hose out and playing outside for a bit?” She asked. Beckett could barely contain his excitement as he pushed past Artemis to head outside. Before she could follow Artemis wrapped both his arms around her and kissed her cheek.

“I have no idea what I would do without you.” He felt her shrug but hug him back.

“Well, the hose will entertain him for an hour at max and I have a feeling Myles is in a similar mood?” She teased gently, causing Artemis to groan and hold her tighter.

“Why did I agree to this?”

“Because you’re a good big brother. Now, come on you go get Myles and meet me outside. The longer we can’t hear them the bigger the trouble they’ll get into.” She gently released Artemis and brushed his hair back. Artemis's hands gripped her wrists.

“Are you spending the night?” He practically begged, not sure how he was going to survive another day.

“Of course. I wouldn’t miss a chance to hang out with my three favorite boys”

[myles-fowl]

The advice from space is lovely, and one that I find giving out to others too.

Your words paint such a vivid picture, and I do apologize for causing a havoc in Haven.

What are your thoughts on the philosophical aspect of "poisoned" gold from yore, now known as radioactive gold by transmutation?

Since Beckett is a trans-species polyglot, does he always win at Scrabble? (Has anyone came close?)

What's Whistleblower's favorite food? (Do send my regards)

Does Ambassador Lazuli like gardening? I believe I did read a throwaway remark on her plants once.

I could not find any of your works on Anarchitecture; so if you ever require an avid listener to exposition to, I'd be glad to offer my services.

Oh, and as a token of our newly formed friendship, I send a bag of virtual worm gummies, and Beckett his favorite snack (what is it currently?)

Warm regards.

Mother says I must thank you for the gummies, so thank you. Beckett will eat almost anything, particularly if it is sugary or has caffeine. However, since he often creates his own 'snacks' consisting of... well... let's leave it that. He got so intensely hyper that Juliet struck a bargain with him. He was only allowed to eat three sugar cubes a day. At first he was unsure, but when I said his sugar eating habits were comparable to those of a horse, he instantly loved the idea. Whistleblower likes to consume curries spiced with Carolina Reapers.

As for his abilities, they are not as potent as you may think. He can understand anything, but since he is half human, his vocabulary is limited to the words he knows in his primary language, English. To explain in a simpler way, he can only translate phrases to and from languages. If he does not know a word in English, he will not know it in another dialect/ language, unless given to him to interpret.

Ambassador Heitz claims to dislike gardening, however she does have a few plants in her home. She said she 'had a connection to' and 'felt pity for' the flora in question. Most of the plants she has are ferns.

In regards to 'poisoned gold,' I think the topic dull. I understand it, however gold has always been Dr Fowl's area of expertise. As he is such a simpleton, as a younger me put it, I tend to avoid topics which he has/had/may have interest in. However, topics that he has actively contributed to/ written about/ invented I tend to pick apart. The world must know that Artemis Fowl II is not the epitome of perfection and intelligence.

Speaking of Dr Fowl, he is glad that you liked his advice and even more glad that you choose to share it.

As for anarchitecture, I may choose to take you up on that offer another day.

Regards to you as well.

[pokegeek151]

@orangerosebush My hand slipped

Myles occasionally wished that he was more comfortable with the rough-and-tumble play that Beckett preferred. As finely honed as his scientific mind was, however, he could not determine a pattern based on the settings and situations where he had these feelings of longing.

(That was not entirely accurate. The pattern was strikingly obvious; he simply refused to acknowledge it. When Artemis was physically well enough to scoop Beckett up in his arms and chase him around the room, Myles felt that desire to join, to be closer to his older brother, the smartest person he knew and the only person Myles had met who understood the way his mind worked. But Artemis was a simpleton, and Myles had standards.)

(Also Artemis made him confused in ways that he didn’t want to examine. Like when he smiled at jokes instead of being visibly annoyed. Or when he wore long skirts that swirled with fascinating patterns instead of the crisp suits he wore in Myles’ memory. These data points formed some sort of pattern that Myles genuinely could not decipher yet.)

On this particular day, Artemis had decided to use his height advantage to keep a expensive decorative piece out of Beckett’s perpetually sticky hands. Beckett’s brilliant plan was to climb Artemis like he was a particularly soft and wriggly tree. Either he would be able to reach the object, or Artemis would collapse under his weight and Beckett would be able to grab the item then. Either way, victory.

Artemis laughed a bit painfully as he tried to twist out of Beckett’s grasp. He managed to hold up remarkably well; Butler would be proud that he was keeping up with his PT. Myles, sitting at a low table a few feet away, watched silently. He forcefully ignored the childish want to join in (DO NOT acknowledge that particular data point) and tried to focus on his book despite Beckett’s excited shrieking. The sound was beginning to grate, but as he turned to ask his brother to quiet down a bit, he froze. In what seemed like slow motion, Beckett blindly reached up and grabbed the elegant wooden stick in Artemis’ hair, causing the neatly twisted bundle to fall apart.

On a logical level, Myles knew that Artemis had been growing his hair out. Short hair does not effectively hold in the large clips and hair sticks Artemis had taken to wearing, and the twins have both asked about it before. Beckett out of the lightning in a bottle curiosity he has for everything, and Myles out of intellectual inquiry. He had been disappointed by Artemis’ response of “It feels right” and had called him a simpleton. (He added this data point to his calculations but otherwise did not further examine it.)

On an emotional level, Myles was not expecting the sight of Artemis’ long hair spilling down over his shoulders to overwhelm him. Myles considered himself well read, but he had never seen a man with hair that long in anything he had studied. The image went against his current schema, but he was not sure how to update his understanding of the world. Artemis was an outlier in most situations involving “people,” so was this an exception, as well? Myles certainly ignored the confusion in a different part of his brain, the part that held what he knew to be true of himself. His own identity and understanding of who he was. In most children, it was somewhat underdeveloped, but Myles had thought that he was ahead of that particular curve. But now he had quite a few (incomprehensible) data points to add to the slowly growing collection of information he had been gathering from watching his older brother.

Beckett didn’t seem to notice the hair and managed to use the distraction of the long locks in Artemis’ eyes to finish his climb and grab the object that had been occupying his attention for the past fifteen minutes. He leapt off and ran, cackling in expectation of a chase.

Artemis sighed with amusement and picked up the hair stick where Beckett had dropped it. As he took a few moments to loop his hair back into place, he caught sight of Myles staring at him with a look of confusion he rarely showed.

“Something wrong, Myles?” he asked.

Myles blinked back into awareness. (Note to self, dissect the new information when Artemis isn’t watching him.) “That was an incomplete sentence,” he chided. “And long hair is unprofessional.”

Artemis raised an eyebrow at him. “Why is that?” he asked. He sounded sincere in a way that Myles knew was Artemis’ ‘I know something you don’t but I want you to figure out for yourself’ tone.

As always, however, Myles rose to the bait. “Because it’s unsanitary.” He wasn’t entirely sure he believed that. Regular hair washing was something Artemis did, after all, but it was the first thing he could think of.

“It is just as sanitary as short hair if managed appropriately. Why is it not an issue for women with long hair?”

Myles frowned. Normally, Artemis let him come up with another argument before posing a rhetorical question. “I don’t know. It just is,” he said uncharacteristically childish frustration.

Artemis smiled gently. It was an expression Myles was getting more and more used to from his older brother. “Perhaps it’s not,” he said lightly. At that moment, they heard a shatter coming from the direction Beckett had run off in. Artemis sighed, this time more tired. “I suppose I will have to check on Beckett. Would you like to help?”

Myles hesitated before answering. “I have already fallen too far behind in my reading.”

“You answered a question I didn’t ask,” Artemis teased, turning one of Myles’ favorite complaints back at him. There was no bite in it, though.

Myles rolled his eyes. “The answer to your question was implied. No, I do not want to help. Simpleton.”

Myles did not return to his book after Artemis left to survey the damage. Instead, he sat in his tiny armchair and reviewed the new data, carefully trying to pull some of his own dark hair far enough that he could see it.

[sunnyscribble]

Fowltober Day 2: Ice

—————————————

“ You explained the rules to them very clearly, correct?”

“Yes.”

“You’ve asked Mother and Father’s permission?”

“Yep.”

“And had Butler check it before allowing them even remotely close?”

“Yes, Arty. God, you sound like an old grandmother! It’s gonna be fine!”

Artemis fought back the urge to give a sarcastic retort, instead choosing to focus on where he placed his feet. The snow, while admittedly beautiful, made trusting his balance very difficult when he couldn’t see where each step was going. Given his luck, he wouldn’t be surprised if he ended up flat on his back before the end of this outing.

Juliet snickered at his awkward gait. “I suppose you won’t be participating.”, she chuckled, tossing her golden braid behind her.

Artemis sighed, adjusting his woolen gloves. Despite their thickness, his fingertips were already going numb. “No. We all know my propensity for serious injury when it comes to the realm of physical activity. It’s safer for all parties involved if I merely watch from the sidelines.” He paused. “If I am being honest, today I feel a bit fatigued.”

Juliet turned to give him a quizzical stare, one eyebrow raising. “And I’m assuming you haven’t told your mother that, right?”

Artemis shrugged, absentmindedly twirling the edges of his scarf around his finger. While it was no secret that since the Berserker Gate disaster , Artemis hadn’t quite been the same when it came to his health, he knew he was still capable of a lot more than his family seemed to believe. He understood their overprotectiveness, but it continued to frustrate him to no end.

“She wouldn’t let me out of the Manor if I had, and I think I’m perfectly capable of walking around the grounds for a bit. Someone has to supervise this little adventure-“

“Me and Butler have it handled-“

“And I want to watch them have fun.”, he interrupted. After a second of pause, he continued. “I don’t want to be stuck inside all the time, especially isolated from my brothers- that’s not healthy for a multitude of reasons. If I get tired I can always just find a seat.”

Juliet nodded at his response, before a small grin split her face. “Even if it has snow on it?”

Artemis winced at the thought. “If I get tired, I will return inside for a bit.”, he corrected.

The wrestler nodded again, now looking a bit smug. “That’s what I thought.”

He was about to snap out a sarcastic remark, when he heard a loud shout from further ahead.

“Myles, look! I figured it out!”

Artemis and Juliet approached the Manor’s pond to a scene that felt straight from a typical holiday movie. Butler, ever on guard, was standing by the edge, watching as Beckett skidded from one side of the ice to the other, having learnt how to propel himself with his skates.

Myles gave his brother an indignant look, standing perfectly still a few feet from edge of the ice. He didn’t look very pleased.

“Do you think you could help me then, simpleton? This was your idea in the first place!”

Butler turned to them, looking a bit strained. “I tried to explain to them how it works, but I don’t think Myles quite has the hang of it yet.”

“He’ll figure it out.”, Artemis predicted, watching as Myles gingerly began to lift one foot, and then the other. “Give him time. We have all afternoon, should this weather continue.” He held out his hand until a few flakes of snow fell into it, illustrating his point perfectly.

Butler nodded.

“As long as the two don’t crash into each other, I’m happy.”

It turns out that Butler’s wish would unfortunately not come to pass, seeing as the much faster Beckett collided with Myles twice before finally learning to slow his speed. Thankfully, there were no serious injuries, and the two twins quickly adapted to the new activity, shouting and laughing.

Artemis smiled at their fun. Despite several layers of the finest winter gear, he still felt like a Fowl icicle, but it was worth it to watch Myles and Beckett play around. It was a joy he had never been able to experience as a child- seeing his brothers enjoy themselves now filled his chest with a quiet sort of happiness. He had been feeling that emotion more and more as of late.

Then Juliet threw a snowball, and all of his peaceful feelings went right out the window.

—————————————

@artemis-fowl-incident-report

[fuinjustsu]

Fowl Fest headcanon :D

So, I was just thinking of meme ideas for tomorrow, on account of it being the first day of Fowl Fest 2020, and I just stumbled on a hilarious revelation :D Imagine Artemis scrolling through all the memes the Fowldom would’ve made in his honour and imagine him deliberating and debating for hours on what on earth these memes mean.

Imagine him going up to Butler (the guy who’s basically a second father to him) and bashfully asking wHaT a meme iS and how they work - because after all, he’s Artemis Fowl, he can’t just not know??? he would refuse to be confused by a simplistic internet phenomenon Butler. I can’t just nOt know!!! That would be an absolutely unfeasible idea.

Butler, ever the patient man, would simply sigh mischievously and reply that he didn’t know - this old man just can’t keep up with the lingo today, eh? Grinning rather uncharacteristically, he would direct Arty to check in with Holly and the “rest of the gang” as he put it. 

They too, would be rather baffled by this absurd internet sensation - Foaly would be frantically trying to research memes and figure out WhAT they mEAn and Holly would take one look at them and stroll unconcernedly out of the room, muttering how she didn’t have time for this. After all, she wAS a Commodore now, and had responsibilities befitting her. 

No. 1 would be utterly mystified, but enthusiastically offering suggestions. Artemis, at this point, would be groaning, in a rare display of frustration - as this was not an emotion which the young genius usually felt.

How hard could it even be? It was just a meme for Frond’s sake. A person of his intellect shouldn’t be this baffled!!

Having exhausted all possible leads, he would end the video call, and would ponder his final options. He could always ask his parents, but that would be humiliation enough, and he had already had quite enough for one day, thank you very much. And anyway, his parents weren’t likely to know the answer, they too did not keep in touch with social media, nor the latest generation’s lingo.

Sighing regretfully, Artemis would turn to his brothers, who take delight in, for once, knowing something that their older brother didn’t. Myles would explain the nuances of a meme and Beckett would gleefully show Arty examples of the memes he and Myles made for Fowl Fest. 

Artemis’s lips would curve into a smile, with the corners of his mouth turning upward.

“You know, memes seem like a lot more trouble than they’re worth...”

At this, Beckett and Myles would look scandalised, with Myles muttering “Simpleton” darkly under his breath. 

He never did grow out of that habit. 

Artemis would’ve ruffle his brothers’ hair fondly, but alas! 

He was out in space and did not have the luxury of being physically present with his brothers.

Still, it had been a great day.

[thirstyfortom]

Hi! Sorry to bother but I've read in many posts this thing called "the fourth wall" and I wanted to know what are this walls and what it means Thanks xx (btw love your blog)

Thank you! 💜 It’s a term that comes from theater, the concept consists on the idea that a scene upon the stage is happening inside 4 walls, like on a room. The 4th wall is invisible, being the one that allows the audience to see the scene, the characters don’t know the 4th wall is invisible and that they’re being watched, when a character breaks the 4th wall, they realize that there is an audience watching them, and they start interacting with this audience.In MysMes case, the 4th wall is broken when Seven hints that he knows this is a game. It’s a very simpleton explanation and it’s a little more complex than what I said, but you can understand better if you look Samuel Beckett up, he’s one of the most known playwrights in making his characters realize they are being watched on a fictional production, oh, and there are a lot of contemporary productions using this resource like the Deadpool comics and movie, the Mr. Robot TV series and such that make the character talk directly to the audience. Hope this makes some sense 😊

[marauders1971-1978]

Marauders 1971-1972 Chapt. 2 (Part 1/3)

Harry Potter book canon - Marauders Era

Characters: James Potter, Sirius Black, Remus Lupin, Peter Pettigrew, Lily Evans, Severus Snape (+ Marauders Era background characters)

Genre: Friendship, Close to canon

Rating - same content warning as original series (K+)

By the time the pair reached the right Potions classroom on Monday morning, James was completely out of breath, having talked non-stop at his new friend the entire journey. Sirius - who was used to the quiet, reserved guests his family permitted to visit and his uptight, proper cousins - was completely thrown by the unapologetic constant talking. Every time James drew breath, he searched his mind for some contribution but didn’t have time to formulate an answer before his new friend was off again. In fact, he only stopped when they met the line that was the rest of the class, just worming into their potions classroom.

Sirius chose a table near the back and James rushed next to him, pushing his sweaty hair out of his eyes and beaming.

“Professor Slughorn teaches this class. He knows my dad; you know?” James stage whispered to Sirius, completely oblivious to the way his new friend leaned away slightly at the abrupt close proximity. “He’s right annoying, but he’s alright. He’ll absolutely pick favourites, so you might as well show off – are you any good at potions?”

“I’m okay,” Sirius replied, not looking at James and watching for the professor to come though the dungeon door.

“Did your parents teach you before you started here? My dad loves potions – he invented Sleekeazy’s Hair Potion, did you know? Mum’s always going bonkers because he’s messing about with all sorts of stuff and testing them out without telling us. He made all my hair fall out when I was five trying to invent a colour-change hair dye, you know?” James prattled on with his head in his book bag, trying to find his Beginners Guide to Potion Making and a quill. He emerged just as their professor entered, his arms full of a cauldron brimming with dry ingredients.

“Welcome to Potions, first years, I am Professor Slughorn. Funny that you should be starting your magical education with a subject which requires very little wand-work, however I hope that the precision and subtlety of Potions - which can be lacking in some other subjects - will give you an appreciation for magic as a multi-faceted art.” As he said this, he laid out the ingredients he’d been carrying onto the front desk and began to write out instructions on the blackboard.

“You’ll find that small nuances can determine the effectiveness of a potion early on, so I implore you to follow the instructions to the letter to achieve the best results. There’s not a lot of damage you can do with these low level ingredients, but it’s best to be careful.”

Sirius’ attention was beginning to wander – this speech was for muggleborns, or students with muggle-loving parents who knew nothing about magic and hadn’t been taught anything prior to enrolment. He wasn’t looking forward to being coddled for the first year of his magical education and could see his father’s complaint of allowing mixed magical and muggleborn classes at Hogwarts – or even allowing muggle-borns at all. He flicked though his Potions textbook, looking to see if any exciting potions were likely to be planned for their upcoming classes. At the very least, if this year was going to be easy he could put in minimal effort and still keep his parents off his back. He didn’t want to attract any negative attention. As boisterous as James Potter was, at least he had some background in potions and he wouldn’t be forced to help out an idiot for the rest of his school career.

James nudged him out of his thoughts by snapping the textbook he was reading closed. The class was moving around, collecting the ingredients that Slughorn had written out on the blackboard, with Slughorn himself benignly correcting students who were rifling in the wrong cupboards. James started up his chatter under the safety of the noise of the class and the clanking of utensils being dropped on the floor.

“So did you do much prep work before you came, Sirius?” James asked, grabbing a handful of beetle eyes. “My parents didn’t want me to do much because they said it would be unfair – but that’s so unfair! I could be top of the class at the beginning of the year without even trying!”

“My brother and I had tutors for potions, wandwork and arithmancy,” Sirius replied carefully, “but I think it’s a family tradition.”

James pouted at Sirius, dumped his newly collected ingredients on the desk in front of his cauldron and started pounding his beetle eyes into a fine powder.

“That’s so unfair!” Sirius couldn’t help but notice a definite whine coming out in his voice. “My parents wouldn’t let me get my wand until I got my letter! They said I had to do it ‘properly’! I can’t believe you actually got to practice with it before-hand!” James dumped his beetle eye powder into his cauldron along with half a pint of goat stomach-bile a little aggressively. “What is the point of being pure blood if you don’t get any benefit?”

James continued to grumble, but Sirius ran through what had been said carefully. He knew that his family’s views were unpopular, and so he spoke carefully with wizarding strangers, for fear of spouting some elitist propaganda that had been drilled into him. It was only thanks to his ‘muggle-loving’ cousin, Andromeda, that he’d ever had a chance to talk to someone who thought differently than his parents for more than five minutes. But what James had said aligned with that constant rhetoric of his parents. And so he tested the waters.

“My father thinks that muggle-borns and pure-bloods shouldn’t be taught in the same classes, because the muggle-borns would hold us back…”

Sirius stole a glance at James from the corner of his eye, trying to gauge his reaction, but James was too busy attempting to wipe the mist from his glasses with the sleeve of his robes, thanks to the warmth of the small fires lit around the room. Someone from the desk in front answered Sirius instead.

“What about half-bloods, then?”

It was the limp-haired boy from the train who was at the desk in front, paired up with the ginger-haired girl who’d been sorted into Gryffindor. She didn’t turn around into the conversation, but from the way her hands stilled, Sirius knew she was listening.

“Butt out, Snivels,” said James, not bothering to make eye contact. But the boy – Severus Snape, he remembered – wasn’t interested in James, he focussed his glare on Sirius.

“Well, what about them?”

Sirius didn’t answer. By his father’s reasoning, this wouldn’t even be a valid question, because the idea that a wizard would dilute their blood with a muggle’s would be laughable, but he wasn’t fool enough to think that this belief was repeatable. Luckily, James answered for him.

“Well, I suppose it would depend on how much work they’d done before attending.” James answered while conducting the twelve counter-clockwise stirs and adding crushed dandelion heads. “All Sirius is saying, is that lumping students of different abilities together in first year would make things difficult for students with no magical knowledge, compared to students like him.”

Snape opened his mouth to argue, but at that point, the girl joined the conversation proper.

“What, and you’ll split us depending on our parents then? Don’t you think that’s a bit unfair? What if I’ve read all my textbooks, and you haven’t? What if I’m better at this subject than you? How can you know? It’s only the first day!”

Sirius raised his eyebrows. He supposed she must be muggle-born, and she was scowling hard at James, pointing an aggressive finger at his face.

“I didn’t realise,” she continued, “that you’re not just a rude, fat-headed brat, but that you also don’t bother to think for yourself.” The girl turned back to her desk with such ferocity that her swinging plaits almost whipped James about the face. Snape smirked at James and threw a disgusted look at Sirius before turning to join his friend.

James looked at Sirius incredulously. “Have I really got a fat head?” he hissed. Sirius gave an uncharacteristic snort of laughter.

“It’s a bit big, I won’t lie.”

James scowled and squashed his face comically with his hands and but on an absurd voice. “What about half-bloods?” he mocked in a stage whisper. “What if I’ve read all my textbooks already?”

“I should hope you’ve read all your textbooks already, Mr Potter, given your father’s proficiency.”

Sirius fought to control a smirk as James snapped to attention at his cauldron and hid his hands behind his back as though he hadn’t just been caught distorting his face into that of a particularly wrinkly troll by the potions professor.

“Yes, sir!” He reassured as earnestly as he could manage, looking wide-eyed at Slughorn from behind his fuggy glasses. Slughorn maintained his hard stare for another half minute before cracking a grin.

“Not that it matters – you’re work so far…” He bent over James’ cauldron, which contained a substance of the dark green colour described by the textbook, but the consistency of snot. “…Would be commendable if you hadn’t allowed it to congeal because you were too busy engaging in the conversation of talented, pretty classmates! Better luck next time!”

Slughorn waddled off, still smiling to himself, apparently under the impression that he’d made an astute, fatherly observation. On the contrary, James made a face at Sirius and mouthed; “What pretty classmate? I hope he doesn’t mean you.”

[marauders1971-1978]

Marauders 1971-1972 Chapt. 2 (Part 2/3)

Harry Potter book canon - Marauders Era

Characters: James Potter, Sirius Black, Remus Lupin, Peter Pettigrew, Lily Evans, Severus Snape (+ Marauders Era background characters)

Genre: Friendship, Close to canon

Rating - same content warning as original series (K+)

After Potions, which had concluded with a decent amount of scowling on James’ part while Slughorn praised the pair in front, the Gryffindors had Transfiguration with the Hufflepuffs. Snape and Evans were basking in the glory of Slughorn’s praise, until they split for their next class, for their ‘innovative’ addition of lemon rind in an attempt to ward off the acrid smell of their boil solution. Sirius rather thought that students should only be praised for successes, since the pair’s potion has turned a lurid orange colour as a result and was useless for any purpose other than painting a Chudley Cannons banner, but Slughorn seemed to value innovation and experimentation.

Professor McGonagall, on the other hand, gave the impression of being a by-the-book individual. Sirius sat through her introduction to the subject, trying to ignore James fidgeting next to him, but approved greatly of her systematic awarding of house points to the few students able to turn their matchstick into a needle (he and a Hufflepuff girl with yellow ribbons in her hair and the surname Rodd). James spent most of the lesson scowling at Evans, trying to see if she’d succeeded in her own transfiguration without her noticing him. As a result, he achieved little other than a disdainful look from Professor McGonagall.

She and Remus, who shared their dormitory, appeared to be helping Peter, who by the end of the lesson was in a fretful state – from what Sirius could tell, he was panicking about his lacklustre performance in both morning lessons and Lily and Remus were attempting to reassure him.

The Gryffindors went to collect their dragon hide gloves in preparation for whatever could be waiting for them in their first Herbology lesson, chattering loudly about their first lessons and steadily getting swallowed up in the crowd of much taller students also changing classrooms. Sirius thought he saw the shoulder-length white-blond hair of Lucius Malfoy who, along with his father, Abraxas, had appeared in his drawing room over the summer. If he remembered correctly, he was a Slytherin prefect. Sirius attempted to identify the students around him – was Andromeda with him? But he had difficulty distinguishing one older student from another over the shoulders of the crowd.  

The walk to Herbology was their first real chance to look across the grounds in full light. The grounds of Hogwarts stretched far out around the castle and Sirius couldn’t distinguish any clear border. Past the greenhouses was the Forbidden Forrest they had been warned about the night before by the headmaster. Despite the Autumn sun dappling the ground at the fringe of the forest a mix of greens and oranges, it seemed that the darkness solidified only a few feet in.

There were three greenhouses, the one furthest to the forest being locked. A short woman with a round face was waiting outside the closest one. She welcomed them into the greenhouse and introduced them to the various tools and plants around the room. Sirius had never worked with magical plants before, other than those from the apothecary needed to Potions. 12 Grimmauld Place didn’t have a garden and his parents never took a particular interest in it, so he felt some excitement to be experiencing something unknown.

Professor Sprout (after having explained the classes of plants in terms of danger, how to recognise species of the same family, and how those similarities reflected the potions they were often used in) had them organise a set of cuttings into families based on the information provided in One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi. To James’ amusement, Sirius was visibly disgusted by some of the available plants. It was only the barrier of his thick, dragon-hide gloves that allowed him to even touch a small section of mimbulus mimbletonia, a little green tuber covered in greenish boils. He had to stop himself from vomiting when a bumbling Hufflepuff called Benjie Fenwick lost ten points for his house by accidentally dropping a handful of bouncing bulbs on the floor. Apparently, they did more than bounce, as Sirius and James discovered when they exploded over their shoes and small shoots started growing around their ankles – effectively trapping their feet to the ground and causing James to lose his balance and topple over backwards onto the greenhouse floor. Sirius thought he saw Remus Lupin snigger and point for Peter’s benefit.

~*~

Lunch was an excitable affair and the Gryffindor prefect had some difficulty in controlling the first years and keeping them from running across the Great Hall to hear stories of lessons they hadn’t had yet from other houses. Sirius contended himself to scan the crowds for members of his own family. He saw his older cousin Narcissa have the top of her head kissed by Lucuis Malfoy and saw Andromeda standing at the Ravenclaw table talking to a round faced student he didn’t know who was roaring with laughter.

James was absentmindedly stuffing his face with ham and mustard sandwiches while watching incredulously as Lily, the ginger haired Gryffindor girl, grabbed a slice of corned beef pie and walked across the hall to the Slytherin table and sat down next to a black-haired boy Sirius assumed to be Severus.

“Can you believe her!?” Asked James indignantly. “Going and sitting at the Slytherin table on the first day. I mean, why sit down on You-Know-Who’s table when you’re a muggle-born? Hasn’t she read up on anything since getting her letter?”

“The other boys, their parents are all starting to side with him too, I think,” Sirius noted. “Those boys-” he pointed over “Rodolphus and Evan, their parents are thought to sympathise with He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. Slytherin is going to become a dumping ground for He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named’s followers and their children, especially if first years who would otherwise go to Slytherin ask the hat otherwise based on politics.”

James narrowed his eyes at Sirius. “Okay, first, how do you know about the Slytherin first years and second, how do you know for sure you can ask the hat what house you want to go to? I thought it was supposed to look at your traits and see where you belong?”

Sirius hesitated – he couldn’t be certain which way his new friend would take his answer. He considered James’ stances up until now, despite his pure-blood status.

“Well my mother told me to ask for Slytherin,” he confessed. “I’m not like the rest of them and she doesn’t want me to… stray, I don’t think. I reckon she thought that if I got into Slytherin, I’d come around eventually.”

He risked a glance at James to gauge his reaction and felt a relief like warm sunlight when he saw James’ mischievous grin – a hundred times more reassuring than any familiarity of Grimmauld Place.

“And you asked for Gryffindor?” James seemed delighted at the very idea of Sirius deliberately disobeying his parent’s blood purist idealism.

“Oh no,” Sirius smirked, “I didn’t even have to ask – the hat was quite offended that I’d even suggest it’d place me in Slytherin.”

James slapped the table in utter joy and attracted a few curious stares with his uproarious laughter and Sirius found himself joining in, thinking for the first time that he wasn’t as strange as he’d been made to believe he was for the past eleven years. In some kind of personal act of final rebellion, when they left the table to make their way to Flying Lessons in the grounds, he filled his pockets with handfuls of mint humbugs.

“Are you excited for flying lessons?” Asked a boy with shockingly ginger hair and an obscene amount of freckles called Edgar Bones, who’d been in their Herbology lesson and had met the pair in the Entrance Hall. “Personally, I don’t see why we should have to if we don’t want to sign up for the Quidditch team next year – there are more direct and practical methods of magical transportation.”

“Like what?”

A group of Gryffindor girls had caught up with them, including Lily. “I hope it’s a bit more graceful than flying looks – I’m Dorcas, by the way.” She introduced herself to Edgar.

“You can use the floo network,” Remus suggested, having joined the group along with Peter as they passed a squat hut near the forest border on their way to the Quidditch Pitch. “It’s much faster than brooms. Or you could apparate, but you have to be seventeen to get your license.”

“No!” James interjected, “you can go by side-along if you’re underage, remember?”

Explanation of magical transport carried the Gryffindor and Hufflepuff first years down to the flying instructor on the pitch, a woman with sharp eyes who looked a bit like a hawk. Next to her lay a pile of broomsticks and while his parents had often scorned Quidditch and brooms as some fanatical idiocy of the lower classes, he still thought that, given the choice between the two, they’d rather the school offered something a little sleeker than these ratty brooms. He amused himself for a few moments, imagining Hogwarts trying to teach his stern, eleven-year-old mother to fly on a broomstick. It was an absolutely absurd image and it was for this reason that he often wondered if his mother had entered the world the same loud, snobbish adult that she was now.

James pouted at the broom selection. “If I have to ride a broom,” he whined, “why couldn’t I just bring my Cleansweep? Will these things even hold us up?”

The teacher clapped sharply and directed them into a line facing her – there was a fair amount of pushing and shuffling as students attempted to stand next to their friends. Sirius ended up squashed between James and Peter.

“Good afternoon first years,” the teacher greeted the, handing out the shabby brooms. “My name is Madame Hooch, and I won’t be having any silliness, thank you. As you might know, broomsticks are an important part of wizarding tradition and Hogwarts believes that it evens the playing field between students for everyone to have some command over the art, along with apparition which will be taught in sixth year.”

There was a shadow of excited whispering at the promise of apparition lessons. Peter, on the other hand, was looking disdainfully down at his broomstick. Sirius watched as Remus snorted at Peter’s expression good-naturedly. Despite James’ complaints, Sirius noted him hanging on Madame Hooch’s every word. She talked them through commanding and mounting the brooms and Sirius self-consciously followed her instruction. James seemed to be perfectly at home with the idea, Peter, though nervous, looked like he at least was familiar with the process, but Remus and Lily looked to be in a similar dilemma to him. As much as Remus had laughed at Peter’s unease, he looked suitably awkward standing squarely on the grass holding what looked like a glorified sweeping brush between his legs.

‘Kicking off from the ground hard’ turned out to be a lot harder than Madame Hooch made it sound. For students like James and Pater, who were at least familiar with broomsticks, they had no qualms with the notion that an object would hold them up of they did. Remus quickly got over the nervousness that came with the questionable instruction and looked utterly surprised that he’d made it two foot into the air. Sirius only made it off the ground on the thought of what his mother would say about him being so undignified and the disgust of his own cowardice after proving to his new friend that he was a true Gryffindor. Once in the air, flying seemed distinctly less difficult as he hovered obediently at the height Hooch had deemed appropriate and watched her try to convince Dorcas to get in the air.

“Will you try out for the Quidditch team next year?” James asked, indicating the small group of Sirius, Remus, Peter and Edgar.

Peter looked positively repulsed. “I’d probably smash my head open and be sent home first game, I don’t think so. I’m so clumsy. I reckon my mum would like it idea, but my dad doesn’t see the point in Quidditch, so…”

“Yeah, but would you want to?” James insisted. Peter looked a little taken aback.

“Well, I don’t really know. I mean, I asked her and she said she didn’t care either way when it came to Quidditch… But my brothers…” Peter trailed off nervously and risked a fall in letting go of the handle to wipe his sweaty hands on his robes. “I don’t know...”

James seemed to consider Peter for a few moments, before appearing to giving him the benefit of the doubt.

“Well, you’ve got all year to decide. I suppose that’s why they open trials in second year. We’ve got this whole year to practice. And I suppose muggle-borns would have to familiarise themselves with the sport… But then you’d think they’d let us bring our own brooms.”

“I heard,” said Edgar enthusiastically, “that some kid a long time ago, in first year got dared to fly home and smashed into the wards around the castle grounds and got turned into a slug!”

“Yeah, I heard that too,” said James. “My dad told me, but he was laughing so I think it was just a story.”

Once Hooch had coaxed the whole class into the air, they were instructed to fly in a circle around the pitch, which resulted in Lily Evans crashing into Remus, which distracted Peter and caused him to lose his grip and flip upside down. The class ended in a fair amount of alarmed screaming and James and Edgar complaining about the inferior ability of the rest of the class.

[marauders1971-1978]

Marauders 1971-1972 Chapt. 1 (Part 2/2)

Harry Potter book canon - Marauders Era

Characters: James Potter, Sirius Black, Remus Lupin, Peter Pettigrew, Lily Evans, Severus Snape (+ Marauders Era background characters)

Genre: Friendship, Close to canon

Rating - same content warning as original series (K+)

Entering the Gryffindor girls’ dormitories for the first time, Lily had no spare energy to take awe in her surroundings. She had climbed what felt like a hundred staircases and eaten what felt like a week’s worth of meals that evening and now would like nothing more than to climb into her bed.

Her trunk full was somehow up next to one of the beds even though the last time she’d seen it was on the train. She had the bed nearest the door and was neighbour to a girl called Dorcas whom she and Severus had met on the journey. She was kind-faced with an alarming amount of strawberry blonde curls and a liberal smattering of freckles to rival Lily’s.

“I don’t think I’ve ever eaten so much in my life,” moaned Dorcas, struggling into pyjamas with her eyes half closed. “I’m gonna explode!”

Lily sat on the edge of her new four-poster bed and copied her new friend, pulling out pyjamas and stuffing her new robes into her trunk carelessly. It was going to be very different from staying at home. No more knocking on the wall that joined her and her sister’s rooms to hear Petunia knocking back. No more crawling into her parents’ bed in the mornings. She’d have to stop being such a baby. Petunia always said she could be such a baby. Petunia said it was because she was the youngest.

Her fellow Gryffindor girls, Marline and Mary, were crowded around one of the oil lamps writing letters with feathered pens. Quills.

It would probably be a good idea to write to her parents.

“Are you going to write home tonight too?” She asked Dorcas, who yawned hugely and nodded.

“I suppose. We can take them to the owlery tomorrow together, if you want? I suppose I could’ve just bought an owl and made things easier, but I love cats.” She grinned and snatched her new cat up from the ground as it stalked past her and pulled it up onto the bed, despite its protest.

While Lily wrote her first letter home (describing in intense detail all the fantastic food she’d eaten) she thought maybe, next year, when her parents were sure she wanted to stay, they might relent to getting her a cat too.

* * *

Sirius was yanked through the dormitory door by the arm. His new friend, James, had a thousand times more energy than he could ever hope to have after such a long and emotionally draining day.

“Look! Our trunks are next to each other! We’ve got the beds next to each other!”

James was practically buzzing, the ends of his disastrously untamed hair quivering and his face shining. Sirius couldn’t help but break into a smile. He’d never met anyone like this boy before. He was a mess, one trouser leg tucked into his sock, his collar tucked into his jumper and his tie in disarray. He was such a contrast to Sirius and his immaculate self that it felt almost rebellious to be standing next to this boy. It was so deeply ingrained in Sirius to be perfect any time eyes were on him that he was constantly exhausted with the effort, it looked like it would be a relief to have the carefree attitude of this boy.

He heard the dormitory door open behind him and two other boys entered – the other new Gryffindor first years who they’d be sharing a dorm with. Sirius thought he remembered their names as Remus and Peter. He’d heard of the Potter family and the Pettigrew family (though always in sneering tones) but he couldn’t think of where he’d heard Lupin before – though he was sure the name had cropped up somewhere. He wondered if the boy was muggle-born. He didn’t know how to feel about him.

He was small, in a different way to James. Where his new friend was short and stocky, this boy was like a reed, pale faced with twig-like arms. Sirius noticed that his curly hair was drooping somewhat in the late hour and that the candlelight in the room made noticeable silvery scarring on his hands and across the bridge of his nose. He was talking to the other boy and smiling lightly though, clearly putting Peter at ease.

Peter looked as nervous as Sirius, wringing his fingers over the edges of his new robes.

James interrupted his thoughts. He almost pounced on the other boys.

“What’re your names? Romulus, right? And Pete?” Clearly, James hadn’t been nearly as attentive as Sirius had been in the Great Hall.

Sirius saw Remus smile good-naturedly again. “Nearly. I’m Remus Lupin. I remember from the sorting, you’re James Potter, and you’re Sirius Black,” he replied, turning and nodding to Sirius.

“I’m Peter Pettigrew,” added the other boy in a small voice. It seemed like James’ boisterous attitude put him on edge a little.

“This is going to be great!” James flopped onto his bed, a satisfied grin on his face. “It’s going to be like one huge sleepover! I can’t wait for tomorrow!”

Sirius carefully folded his new robes and put them on the chair between his and James’ beds before taking a glance around the room. James was face-first in his bedding – asleep as though he hadn’t been bouncing from the walls not five minutes ago. Remus was sitting in bed writing a letter (presumably telling of his sorting) with a muggle pen. Peter was lovingly stroking what Sirius supposed was his new pet owl, a contented smile on his face. Lastly, he looked over at his tie which was lying on top of his folded clothes. When he’d bought it, it had been black. Now it was red and gold

Sirius smiled as he turned over to sleep.

(This chapter was beta read by TenThousandLilies on Fanfiction.Net)

[marauders1971-1978]

Marauders 1971-1978 Chapter 3 (Part 1/3)

James Potter had never been happier, and it wasn’t as though he didn’t have many great experiences to compare the last month to. So far, he and Sirius had spent five nights sneaking around the castle and they’d already found the entrance to the Slytherin common rooms and an old dungeon likely used for torture judging by the chains and screws. Not to mention, slipping into the restricted section and finding the most unusual books on how to do the crazy things that James had spent his childhood reading about in muggle children’s books. They’d found books about curse fire that has a life of its own, they found books on wizards who could turn into animals, they found books on creating zombies. It would be dishonest for him to claim that he hadn’t given himself nightmares, but it had added to the thrill.

After the first week, when the introduction segments of their classes came to an end and they started to perform what James considered ‘real magic’ he was considerably more excited. Defence had turned around from being about classifying spells to actually using them. Professor Fairley had brought in a jar of snails and allowed them to practice jinxes and counter jinxes on them. He and Sirius had been thrilled to find lists of simple spells with the same root were very easy once one was mastered and so they picked their favourites to use on unsuspecting spiders and Severus Snape.

James had never had a true rival before, but he had always quite liked the idea. Before Hogwarts, he had merely enlisted the help of friends or his parents to act as his mortal enemy so he could pretend to valiantly take them down in the name of bravery and chivalry. Usually the enemy was Salazar Slytherin himself, but he supposed he could settle for the greasy haired first year for the time being. Of course, he quite failed to register that Salazar and Gryffindor had once been great friends and this was where the tragedy lay, but short-sightedness could affect a person figuratively and literally.

Not many people were willing to jump in front of Snape and take a jinx for him, probably because he had gone straight to the library to learn a litany of awful hexes for retaliation after the first time James caught him off guard on the corridor. Apparently the humiliation of uncontrollable tap dancing had spurred him into a spree of extracurricular reading.

If he was honest with himself, he quite enjoyed the challenge Snape was putting up. There was nothing brave about picking out someone defenceless, but since the Slytherin insisted on coming back with ever more disgusting and unusual spells it gave him and Sirius a perfectly good excuse to pour over huge volumes in the library in the evening looking up the best way they could get the upper hand. Suffice to say, their Defence grades were excellent.

To make sure that the school didn’t lull into boredom after the first month, the house Quidditch teams could be seen practicing in the early morning and late into the night for the first match in November. James had looked with unadulterated longing towards the try-outs for Gryffindor which took place in early October.

~*~

“I wish I could try out this year! If only I could try out they’d see how prodigal I am and take me anyway. It’s an absolute sin that Dad wouldn’t let me bring my broom. If I had it I could have done some flying outside the pitch and maybe caught the captain’s eye – been talent spott-”

“Oh my goodness!”

Lily Evans, side-by-side with Severus Snape, passed James and Sirius in the grounds on Saturday afternoon as they watched the new Hufflepuff team practice.

“Potter, do you ever stop talking about yourself?” Said Snape derisively, rolling his eyes.

“Oh good afternoon Snively, Evans,” said James, getting up from the ground and pulling himself up to his full, unimpressive height.

“I hope you’re thinking of trying out, Snape. I can’t think of anything that would help Gryffindor’s chances more, to be honest.” Sirius had stood to join James, dwarfing him by a few inches. As a pair, James thought, they looked much more impressive. Severus rolled his eyes and veered away from them, tugging on Lily’s arm who was positively growling at the two boys.

“I’m sure she gets more riled up than him,” Sirius commented. “How are they so close already? I thought she was a muggle-born? Isn’t Snape’s mother a Prince? That’s a pureblood family.”

“What are you two saying to rile up Severus and Lily today?”

Remus and Peter had appeared behind them, both wrapped in Gryffindor scarves. Peter’s nose was bright red.

“Have you done the transfiguration homework?” Peter asked, sitting down and rummaging in his book bag. “I did the spell, but the theory… I don’t see why some metals are more difficult to transfigure than others…”

“Yeah, we did it” said Sirius, looking up at Remus, “have you not yet? Usually you help each other out, right? It’s due on the 3rd. I swear McGonagall can smell guilt on your parchment if you did it the night before.”

“Well I haven’t done it yet, so I told Peter to ask you two,” Remus answered, looking at his hands. His bony fingers were worrying the material of his new scarf, widening the holes in the knitting.

“I would have thought you’d have been on top of it too, Remus,” James said absentmindedly and he sifted through the papers in his bag, looking for the homework for Peter. Sirius frowned.

“Remus I saw you in the library just the other day doing your homework due this week. Why didn’t you do it then?”

Remus scratched his neck and laughed good naturedly. “Well I needed a textbook that had been taken out so I just thought I’d save it for another day.”

James emerged with a dog-eared slip of parchment. “Here you go Peter.” He handed it over. “We spent a good while looking it up, but we found some alchemy textbooks that related the transfiguration. We just put that it depends on the density of a metal and that it can be referenced on the muggle Periodic Table, didn’t we Sirius?”

“The book was called ‘Theory for Elemental Transfiguration,’ We left it in the library if you want to take it out, Peter. It wasn’t so hard once we found the book.”

“Thanks a lot guys.” The small boy finished scanning James’ essay and handed it back to him. “I’ll go and take it out later. Remus do you want to do it with me?”

Remus glanced off towards the castle. “I can’t tonight, sorry. I’m busy…” He flushed pink at his weak response.

“Busy with what?” Sirius asked. He picked up his bag and made to return up the grounds towards the castle, minding the early sunset streaking over the forest.

“Well… Well Professor Dumbledore is doing me a favour and wants to meet with me early.”

James flashed Sirius a look of bemusement which was returned with raised eyebrows.

“Are you in trouble, Remus?” Asked Peter.

Remus didn’t answer. He looked off thoughtfully and allowed them to reach the doors in awkward silence, at which point he stopped. “Look, I don’t want to go into it. It’s k-kind of personal…” He trailed off nervously, looking at the floor rather than at their faces.

Peter, ever out to please, beamed at Remus in an attempt at reassurance. “Remus, you can tell us anything! We’re your friends, you know? Right?” He turned to James and Sirius. “We’re all mates so you can tell-”

“Don’t worry about it Remus, we all have things we’d rather not become common knowledge.” Sirius interrupted Peter and sent him a hard glare. “Any respectful family can honour that, isn’t that right James, Peter?”

Peter, changing his tact quickly, nodded in blind agreement, but James scoffed. “What’s it got to do with family honour? If Remus needs a mate because something’s up, then we’re mates, Peter’s right.” James turned to Remus, looking up at the taller boy’s awkward face. “But don’t stress Remus. You don’t have to tell us anything if you don’t want to.” He tugged on Remus’ sleeve in an attempt to get him to look up and smiled at him.

“Look, it’s dinner soon – don’t look so glum. Why don’t we snag some extra food and take it up to the dormitory and have a midnight feast tonight?”

Peter gave a little cheer which cause several passing Ravenclaws to peer at the group curiously and Remus gave a tentative smile behind his scarf.

[marauders1971-1978]

CHAPTER THREE IS FINALLY UP! It’s also on AO3! I hope you guys enjoy it!

[marauders1971-1978]

Marauders 1971-1972 Chapt. 2 (Part 3/3)

Harry Potter book canon - Marauders Era

Characters: James Potter, Sirius Black, Remus Lupin, Peter Pettigrew, Lily Evans, Severus Snape (+ Marauders Era background characters)

Genre: Friendship, Close to canon

Rating - same content warning as original series (K+)

The last lesson of the day was Defence Against the Dark Arts, which got off to a loud start as a result of the muddy, ruffled looking Gryffindors which caused a fair amount of hilarity among the Slytherins. The professor didn’t particularly enthuse Sirius, a tame looking blonde woman who dressed in some bizarre amalgamation of wizarding and muggle clothes called Fairley. In contrast to the madness of flying, the class consisted of a long introduction to the history of the Dark Arts and an explanation of how malignant and benign magic is categorised by law.

“You’ll find,” Fairley lectured, “that despite the classification of spells by severity, it is difficult to take a witch or wizard to court on the basis of the use of a spell alone. This is why wizarding law relies on case law for convictions. For example-”

Sirius heard James quietly thunking his forehead off the desk next to him. He allowed himself to zone out and cast around for something more interesting. September sun was setting and shining through one of the high windows, casting the two rows in front in blinding yellow light. They spent the first lesson copying down the different classifications of spells and making notes of the Latin roots of many spells. Professor Fairley left each student with a long list of spells with instructions to translate them loosely into English and classify them.

Sirius watched Severus and Lily talking as he screwed the top back onto his ink bottle and dropped it into his bag.

“My mum told me that they used to teach Latin at Hogwarts – you know?” Severus told her, scanning the list of spells. “She tried to teach me some, but it was really difficult when it came to spell roots – well you know how my dad is.”

“I can’t imagine anything more dull,” said Lily, stuffing the homework into her Defence textbook. “Be quite useful to know how incantations are created though. Do you think that means that a person could just make up spells? Are all Latin words spells? Or does a wizard just pick one at random? I wonder how it’s done…”

Sirius thought he remembered his tutor talking about the nature of spell incantations, but he must have zoned out because he seemed to have retained very little of it. He scowled, thinking that if he had just paid attention, he might have been able to do this homework without spending hours on end in the library looking up Latin root words.

“Do you know any of these?” Sirius asked James, who had a red blotch on his forehead from where it had been pressed against the desk for the hour.

“Yeah, a couple – some of them are a bit obvious though – don’t you think ‘lumos’ sounds like illuminate? I’ve never heard of some of them though. What’s this?”

James pointed to a spell on the list.

“Equus Venaticus.”

“I’ve no idea. I can’t even take a guess.”

“I thought you had a tutor?” James accused.

“Yeah, but it was boring sometimes,” Sirius confessed. “Hurry up, we can dump our bags and go to the library to get started before dinner.”

James actually groaned and stamped his feet up the grand staircase. “It’s the first day for God’s sake,” he whined. “I picked the wrong friend. Is it too late to change? I wanted to go exploring.”

Sirius paused on the stairs in thought, allowing others to barge past him, before making the decision which would decide what kind of person he was going to be from this point on.

“We’ll do it tonight!” He called after James, running to catch up. “We’ll go to the library and do the homework, then tonight, we’ll go!”

James turned to him, grinning.

“At night?”

“Yes,” said Sirius, nodding breathlessly.

“If you’re sure -”

“I promise! Let’s do it!”

James actually clapped his hands in excitement, his eyes shining. “Then I’ve got such a great secret to show you!”

~*~

James and Sirius had decided over dinner to go to bed on time with the other first year boys to avoid suspicion. Sirius was utterly unable to fall asleep, as time wore on he grew steadily more and more excited – for whatever secret James had managed to keep tight lipped about, for being up at night in a huge castle, for defying his parents, for exploring… He lay looking at the red canopy, waiting for Remus’ quill to stop scratching in the darkness, thinking that he was quite excited about being in Gryffindor and having a real friend.

A few moments after the silence had reached a deafening point in the first year boys dormitory, Sirius slipped out of his four-poster and padded across to James. He pulled back the curtains with minimal noise and peered around to see if he was awake.

Apparently excitement had exhausted James – he’d clearly tried to stay awake as he was slumped sideways and was wearing his dressing gown, his glasses still on but digging into the side of his head.

“Hey,” whispered Sirius, poking James. “Hey, let’s go!”

James sleepily complained until he came to his senses and seemed to remember their plans a few hours ago and suddenly came to life. He grinned at Sirius and pushed him out of the way to get to his trunk.

“What’s the secret?” Sirius reminded him, kneeling down and trying his best to maintain his manners and not snoop over his friend’s shoulder into his trunk.

“I’m getting it, hold on…”

James’s smirked, having caught something at the bottom of the piles of clothes and books. He tugged at whatever it was rather than just unpacking his things and so it took some effort, but the reveal was worth it.

“Wow!” Sirius breathed, reaching out to feel the lighter-than-silk material James had presented to him. “Is that an invisibility cloak?”

“Yeah – like in ‘The Tale of the Three Brothers.’ It was my dad’s, but I think it’s a family tradition to give it to your son on their first year of Hogwarts – I don’t reckon I’d be able to give it up to my kid if I had a son.” He confessed.

“I don’t blame you,” Sirius said, his eyes travelling hungrily over the cloak, his fingers drifting over the surface in something akin to an act of worship.

“It’s cool, isn’t it? Come on.” James stood up and threw it over his head, vanishing from sight. Sirius clambered to his feet, reaching out to feel for James before his new friend threw the watery material over his head so they were face – to – face under the cloak.

“Let’s go then.”

Sirius smiled to himself as he crept down the dormitory stairs and out of the portrait hole, keeping as close to James as possible to avoid their feet appearing. He felt a distinctive thrill at the thought of how furious his mother would be if she ever found out about his short, smiley friend with a taste for rule breaking and the adventures that they had planned to go on together.

[marauders1971-1978]

Marauders 1971-1972 Chapt. 1 (Part 1/2)

Harry Potter book canon - Marauders Era 

Characters: James Potter, Sirius Black, Remus Lupin, Peter Pettigrew, Lily Evans, Severus Snape (+ Marauders Era background characters)

Genre: Friendship, Close to canon

Rating - same content warning as original series (K+)

1st September 1971

Black, Sirius

Hello. Another Black.

Sirius felt the numbed fear that had been building in him since he’d been presented with his letter, by Kreacher, months ago reach a crisis point. His insides felt like they were physically quivering. He gritted his teeth.

“Don’t do it.” He hissed at the hat, squeezing his eyes shut as though it’d give the words more conviction.  “Please don’t. I’m not like her. I’m not like them.”

Yes, well I’m glad we agree. I see not a cunning bone in you, Sirius Black. Nor do I detect any great respect for ambition…

Sirius didn’t care that he’d just been insulted by an old hat. To hear it, from an impartial judge, that he wasn’t like the others (even in the most basic association) made him slump out of his ridged posture in relief. He’d been so confused, for so long, and pulled in every direction since he first questioned his family as to what kind of person he really was. It felt like a release to be un-cuffed from this one Black tradition.

You’re quite welcome. Now, what would you say to “GRYFFINDOR!”

Sirius pushed up the old hat to reveal the Great Hall in all its cheering glory, and the right-most table clapping almost aggressively in welcome. He flicked his gaze over to the table nearest the doors to see the cool expression of his cousin Bellatrix, her dark eyes boring into him even from this distance. Before he could feel any real nervousness, however, he grinned at the sight of his biggest cousin, Andromeda, head girl badge gleaming on her chest, elbow Bellatrix so roughly she nearly fell off the bench. Sirius grinned back at her and hurried to the Gryffindor table still smiling, the image of his cousin clapping for him filling his chest with happiness like a tidal wave.

Evans, Lily

Lily screwed up her face as the old, frayed and rather dirty hat dropped down over her eyes and obscured the hundreds of faces in the great hall that had been staring up at her. It was oddly comforting, if a bit stuffy. It felt as though she were completely alone, removed from the fears of being separated from her family, and her sister, being in a new place and the possibility of being away from Severus for the first time since she’d stepped onto the magical platform.

No need to be so worried.

Lily stifled a gasp as a clear voice seemed to ring through her skull like an empty chamber.

I’m just flicking through to see where I should put you.

Lily didn’t like the insinuation that the hat was rifling through her thoughts, but she capitalised on the opportunity and thought as hard as she could; I want to go where Severus goes.

Lily thought she could hear a smile in the hat’s next words. I haven’t sorted a Severus yet. We’ll have to see how similar your two are, won’t we? Is he intelligent? You’ll make a model student I’m sure… proud of your own curiosity and ability… perhaps Ravenclaw?

But what’s this?

The hours old memory of her father on the platform had creeped to the forefront of her mind. He’d squeezed her tight, called her ‘Flower’ and assured her that she could always come home, if it was too much. That things didn’t have to change, he’d said. She didn’t have to be brave.

And yet, here you are, Lily Evans, with no intention of leaving. So decisive and stubborn so young. I know when I see a “GRYFFINDOR!”

Someone whipped the hat off her head, pulling loose strands of copper hair free from her long, neat plait and she saw the table furthest from the huge doors giving her a particularly enthusiastic applause. She took a deep breath to push down the shock and allowed her face to break into a wide smile and she walked to the raucous end table, trying not to think of Severus behind her.

Lupin, Remus

Rather than sitting on the stool, Remus rather thought his legs just gave way beneath him and he should consider himself lucky that the chair caught him. He’d been so happy to be going to school for the first time, to not be locked away, but instead be given the opportunity to meet new people, but now… He’d spent most of his life up until this point away from the rest of the world, in the company of only his mother and father. Suddenly thrust into an environment surrounded by hundreds of children was totally nerve wracking. He’d quickly realised he had no idea how to interact with other people his age and being the focus of so many pairs of eyes made him feel physically sick.

The Sorting Hat was dropped on his head and fell down over his eyes, blocking sound and sight completely but not erasing the weight of the hall’s attention.

Remus heard a voice ring clear through his head as though his own brain were thinking the words.

What an unusual young man.

Remus screwed his eyes shut under the hat as though the voice was painful.

Why so worried? I’ve seen students with a lot more riding on their house over the years than you.

The hat was silent, as though it were sifting through his mind to find an answer. An image of his parents swam to the front of his mind and Remus’ knuckles whitened as he tightened his grip on the rim of the stool.

I just want them to be proud of me. I make everything so difficult for them, they must be relieved to have their lives back now. It’s the least I can do.

The hat seemed to ‘hmm’ in acknowledgement. Well I see you won’t have to worry about bad marks, with a brilliant mind like that, your belief in hard work and fair play will take you far. You’ve a lot of ambition, for such a young kid.

It’ll never happen though. Remus thought. It’s all a waste. I can work as hard as I like and I’ll never amount to anything because… because of the way I am…

Remus thought he heard the hat chuckle. Have a little more confidence in yourself Remus.

“GRYFFINDOR!”

Pettigrew, Peter

Peter’s feet didn’t touch the floor once he’d scrambled up onto the rickety, three legged stool, ready for Professor McGonagall to place the Sorting Hat on his head. When she did, it was as though all the lights had gone out. A smooth voice spoke in his ear and Peter squeaked in shock.

Desperate to prove yourself already and you’ve only just sat down.

Peter thought that he’d rather have faced some of the rumours which were spreading across the Hogwarts Express about the nature of the sorting, rather than sit here with the same hat that knew his parents sifting through his darkest thoughts. There were a few feelings he’d rather keep to himself.

Oh don’t worry I shan’t be telling anyone. Your insecurities are your own business. I suppose you don’t want to be in Ravenclaw?

I can’t compare to them… I’m not smart enough… I can’t… I just don’t know what I’m going to do…

The gut-wrenching memory of his mother hugging him while his father congratulated him excitedly surfaced. Peter had played through it again and again and, like an old tape, had become more disjointed and worried with each viewing. His brothers watching from the hallway, whispering to each other. His mother saying how much this would change things.

They’re all squibs, you see? Peter told the hat miserably. Everyone’s watching me now.

And you just feel as though you can’t live up to all the new attention. Don’t worry, you’re not the first to be living up to high expectations. Not even the only in this year. You might be the odd one in your family, but you won’t stand out in… “GRYFFINDOR!”

Potter, James

James Potter nearly collapsed the rickety stool in his haste to sit himself on it and he could have sworn he saw Professor McGonagall roll her eyes before she placed the old hat on his head. Excitement bubbled inside him like some out of control reaction in his stomach and he swung short legs in anticipation.

Not a concern in your head I see? Said a voice in James’ ear that he knew to be the Sorting Hat.

Yes! I’m going to be in Gryffindor, like my Dad, right? The thought rang so sure and true that, if the hat had any, it would’ve raised it’s eyebrows.

I think I’ll be the one making the decisions here.

James conviction faltered for the first time in a long time.

What? I’m not brave enough?

Well you’re certainly brazen enough. I’m not so petty that I won’t deny you your wish because of a little big-headedness.

“GRYFFINDOR!”

Snape, Severus

Oh! Severus, you’ve been mentioned. Made a good friend already, have you?

A hundred memories of Lily were presented by Severus for the hat to witness, all smothered in the association of loyalty, friendship and blissful happiness.

But you put her in Gryffindor.

I put her where she belongs. And now it’s your turn.

The hat must have felt his indecision because it felt to Severus as though it voiced his feelings more accurately than he would ever dare to say aloud.

You’d loathe to be in Gryffindor, and yet, you’d rather be with that girl than anywhere else.

Severus fiddled with his new robes. What if she forgets about me? She’ll make new friends. She’s nice, and pretty and funny and… well, you can see me. Saying (or rather thinking) the insecurities that had been weighing him down regarding Lily hadn’t made him feel better

But you’re not without your qualities. What an excellent mind, and no, I don’t just mean academics. You should have a little more faith in yourself, you’ve an incredible cunning streak you could put to very good use in Slytherin.

The hat must have felt his conflict. It continued; You’re going to have to decide what kind of person you want to be eventually – you can’t deny yourself what you want in the hope of banal happiness. You can keep your connections, if you work hard enough for them, if you really want them.

But people turn against you and you’ll wish you had just relied on yourself all along, right? Severus thought of his mother in that moment, sitting at the table with her son eating a lonely supper looking haggard while her husband wore off his anger on the picture frames and ornaments in the adjacent room.

Well if you want to think of it that way…

“SLYTHERIN!”

[marauders1971-1978]

BTW chapter 5 is up. (I always upload so late to here and fkin wattpad cos I’m stuck in the FF.Net habits of 13 yr old me.)

There’s some cute Petunia and a lil bit of McGonagall being Remus’ no.1 supporter and also I went a bit mad and sent Remus in for some drug trials and had them give him Propofol which it turns out wasn’t used as an anaesthetic until the late 1970s so that’s awkward.

Here’s the AO3 link and here’s the wattpad link if you’re 12.

Thanks guys. Ik there’s only like 2 people on here who read it but ily. I’ll chop up the chap and post it on here soon.