#cause like how could she have known the full ramifications

[harbingerofsoup]

oh so when any other iffy character choice gets made on supernatural it’s the writers fault and we can accept it, but when mary winchester—

[blaqueswanzaghouliishiilikeda]

This may be my personal reading but I think Claudia very deliberately riled up Lestat in that chess scene so she could expose everything to Louis and get him to leave with her. I never saw Claudia for one second believing anything Lestat promised, but she likely went along with letting Lestat back in cause she knew that Louis needed to be shown without a doubt that Lestat was full of shit before he would actually agree to leave. Cause in that first chess scene its not like Lestat is saying anything provocative or aggressive towards anyone, for all we know, he's playing his part really well yet she pokes at him with very sensitive jabs (Nicki) to get him to expose himself, which he does and that helps to push Louis closer to leaving. She knows at this point Lestat isn't thinking about her much more than as a means to keep Louis so she turns that against him as now she becomes the means to get Louis away from Lestat.

I always wondered why in those 6 years did she not leave NOLA? We see that Louis is physically perfectly fine by year 3. She must've known with the non-stop gifts from Lestat it was only a matter of time before Louis was worn down.

im gonna push back on this hard. i want you to know that i’m not like mad or angry or shutting you down. im just VERY passionate about children especially black children.

before i get into it we do not see a louis who is perfectly fine ever. there is not a single episode when louis is in anyway stable. this is a assertion that does not take into account the beast of PTSD. that shit showed up with flashbacks in Dubai. He was not okay. and Claudia knew that.

also before i get to whats really driving me to push back. we are disagreeing in Lestat playing his part well. Louis is in love and bonded (the real actual definition of trauma bonded, not like how its been wildly misinterpreted) to lestat. He is not going along with this because Lestat is playing his part well. He is manipulating Louis. He is trying to manipulate Claudia. Lestat is the one who broke their relationship it does not matter that he’s not being provocative or aggressive in this scene. the last ten or so minutes ep 5 is enough of a reason for her to NEVER trust him again. What does it say that ANYONE should expect her to over look that alone and play nice because in this moment he’s not doing anything that is a take i cannot and will not agree with.

but ep 5 is not a stand alone. he been provocative and aggressive from the beginning.

but im gonna have to push back on something that has been bothering me. Claudia is not without emotion. and she is not without feeling. in fact locked up at fourteen she is MADE UP of emotion and feeling. she is NOT just a plotting monster. i thought i challenged this take enough in my rewatch but imma have to get into it more. maybe she doesnt feel the ramifications of her actions. maybe she isnt burdened by guilt bc of her age. maybe shes more ruthless bc of her age. why should i not attribute emotion to that. this is where i think ppl like to refuse the full breath of children’s humanity. kids seek nurture and care. they’ll do anything for it. they don’t have an full understanding of everything. but they are not these unfeeling cold monsters that just go about being destructive and not caring. a friend of mine told me onetime he took i think it was a jelly fish or something from the sea and put it in the bathwater bc he wanted to keep it. he didnt understand that would kill it. when it died he was so fucking anguished he cried for the rest of the day especially when his parents told him it happened bc he put it in the bath. that it belongs in the sea.

he didnt do that bc children are cruel monsters. he did that because he didnt understand the variety of life and the particular needs of that animal. but he is full of emotion. it was love that made him pick up that animal. it was love that made him want to keep it. it was love that crushed him when he found out what he had done.

now. i see to much that y’all wanna only allow the monster piece in claudia and it drives me up the wall. and her childhood is often used agaisnt her. shes more of a monster bc she didnt get to live a full life she let go of her humanity bc she didnt have all the years of humanity loustat did. except she had 14 years of humanity. in 14 years she lived a life. and i refuse to take that away from her. she is angry!! she is angry and sad and lonely and frustrated and isolated and alienated and reaching for connection and she is time and again denied her personhood. That is the humanity in her. she also fed the fuck up!!! and how she chooses to go about getting her ass out of there does not take away her humanity.

she is also curious. she also is loving and wants love in return. she is also nurturing and wants to be nurtured back. she is also gentle and wants gentleness back. ALL of this drives her ruthlessness for fighting back. her ruthlessness for killing. her ruthlessness for surviving. and her ruthless for doing what needs to be done to get out.

she also dragged louis out to algiers bc she loves him. bc it hurts her to see him. why do you think they included that little walk where they were talking about Emily Dickinson? they were happy. they weren’t perfectly fine. but they were happy. they were relaxed. they were at peace. they were each others. they werent constantly under the threat of abuse and mistreatment and fear. Louis traded that for his relationship with Lestat. I can understand why he did that and also stand with her on her anger about that. that fucking HHURTS! it hurts children when the abuser comes back home. it hurts them. she was hurt. so no i dont agree that she just did that to plot against them. hating and loving are often times not mutually exclusive. sometimes you hate because you love. and eventually with enough signs it wont get better hate can eclipse love. but thats where it was born. at least thats what i see was elevated in their relationship with the amcverse.

[generalluxun]

Fanfiction: Reciprocation Chapter 7

Author's note: welcome to act 2! In which, Felix turns his attention from the magical to the mundane, and finds it no less taxing.

As usual link to the AO3 where it's also posted in the bio, full text after the break.

“Sweetings, you are brooding.” His mother’s voice was a gentle invitation.

Felix looked up from his book. In a change, he’d chosen to study out in the living room tonight. He hadn’t spent enough time thinking about the ramifications, he was experimenting. His mother was ever observant, he should have known better.

“I am studying, Mother.” he lied.

She came fully into the living room, away from the stool perch in the kitchen she normally occupied. Held between her fingers were the glossy pages of a magazine. “You’ve been at that page for the last ten minutes, Goldflower. You don’t take that long with anything.”

Verbal sparring with his mother was a losing battle. “It is simply an off day, am I not allowed to be tired, Mother?”

She sat on the couch by his chair, snugged up against the end closest to him and leaning on the armrest to be closer. “Eight at night, my Sol? If you are tired, then you are not sleeping well, and that too is cause for concern.”

Losing, perhaps already lost. Felix tried silence, it might work, if she was herself tired.

She was not. Amilie folded the magazine in her lap as she spoke in sing-song. “You’ve reclaimed the peacock. Your life is your own. You have your cousin’s ring. His life is in your hands; good hands I know. We are free from my parents. We are free from the past. You may pursue anything you wish, and I have more than enough money to back you wherever you go. Tell me then, my Tomorrow, what has put those lines in your brow?”

Defeated, twice over now, or he would not have lost this round. Felix closed the book on Enology and held it in his lap as his mother held her magazine. He opened his mouth to speak and no words came out. He closed it again. They shared a concerned look. He began a new -nothing.

His mother smiled gently. “Does it have to do with cologne?”

Felix looked away, then dropped his gaze to his lap. “It does, but also no, Mother. I remain my own, that has not changed.”

“But something has, and it troubles you. My brother in law did not trouble you in this way. I may not have birthed you, my Joy, but I am still your mother. I don’t know as many things as you, but the things I do know may surprise you still.”

She was right, she was right and Felix hated that she was right. In the fullness of time, with room to consider, he had hardened against his weakness. He could not strangle the voice though, now that it had awakened. He could bury it under logic and reason but the muffled whispers would not be silenced.

Felix thought maybe he could put her as off balance as he felt. “It’s the Bourgeois woman, Mother.”

"Audrey?" Amilie's voice rose in shock.

Felix shot his mother a look. "The other one."

"Oh." Amilie raised a hand to cover her mouth, "Oh!"

Felix could feel the smile she was hiding. "No, Mother."

She dropped her hand, the smile remained. "Of course, Light."

Felix looked back down, speaking his thoughts out loud to save himself future probings, "She seems to have dropped her obsession with my cousin, and has been… not unpleasant. She was integral to my plan to recover my autonomy. There is… a connection."

Amilié's voice was gentle. "Of course there is."

Felix shot her another sharp look. "Mother!"

Amilie spread her hands, they very statue of maternal innocence. "You will make connections in life, and now is the perfect time to begin. Think of how you would view it happening to someone else."

Felix did. Connections made one stronger, as long as they were properly managed, but that did not sit right. Felix threw another stone in the pond. "She is a human."

"Is that the worst of her faults?"

"You don't even like the Bourgeois."

"I don't have to."

Felix was on the back foot. He had one last defense. He fixed his mother with a level gaze. "This will not result in what you want."

As soon as the words left his mouth, he regretted them. But for her earnest desire, I would not exist. That his mother pinned her own forsaken hope on a next generation was no secret. He saw his words hit home, wounding her in the most intimate of ways. She pressed her hands together, wearing a face she had worn many times for his father. "What I want is my son to be happy."

Felix looked down again, wounded too in his own haste. "I'm sorry to be a disappointment."

"Never!" She was off the couch and holding him before she finished the word. Felix endured it as a form of punishment. His mother drew back just enough to look down into his eyes. "Never, my Son. You could never disappoint me. Understand?"

Her tone brooked no argument. "Yes, Mother."

She let him go and relief poured in. Amilie stooped to pick up her magazine. "Even with our worlds so far apart, I can offer you this much at least: experiment. Your world will grow, and rapidly now. You will not be in two years who you are now. Nor the same two more after that. Some parts will be constant, I have no doubt, but do not look solely to your past to face your future."

She turned back to him, curling the magazine in her hands. Those soft eyes turned sharp and Felix knew at this moment she was being mother and not mommie.

"Be free, Felix. Do not submit to what anyone expects of you, not even yourself."

Free. The peacock pricked under his vest where Felix had pinned it. "Yes, Mother."

-----------

Felix: I hope you are well.

Chloé: pfftt! 🤣🤣🤣🙄

Felix:What on earth?

Chloé: That was so corny! Okay okay, let me answer you: I. Am. Fine. beepboop

Felix: Insufferable woman! I spent time on that!

Felix had enough time to glower at his phone, wonder where her response was, and feel cheated. He set his phone down and mentally switched gears. He had a full course assessment coming up in one of his Pre-Law classes. His phone buzzed not five minutes into the review, but Felix purposefully and pointedly ignored it for the other twenty five. Sadly he finished the review realizing he had retained almost nothing from those twenty five.

Chloé: ugh. you really did, didn’t you? Alright, sorry, I’m fine. It’s boring here lately. Almost no Hawkmoth attacks in the last week.

Felix was gobsmacked.

Felix:Excuse me, what was that you said?

Chloé:What? No Hawkmoth? Is that wrong? He can’t still be Shadowmoth now, right?

Felix:Not that triviality. I do believe I have on record the first physical proof of Chloé Bourgeois saying she is sorry.

Chloé: Oh just leave it alone! God, it’s hard enough to type to some British guy hundreds of kilometers away when he’s not being an ass about it. If you make it a thing I won’t do it again!

Felix chuckled to himself.

Felix:Then, my apologies too. I acknowledge your effort. Boring sounds like it may be a blessing in this case. You can focus on your schoolwork and extracurriculars without Hawkmoth’s interference. 

It was another few minutes before an answer came, just long enough for Felix to dwell and wonder. He did not like the experience.

Chloé: I had to look up like two of those words. Why can’t you talk normal? Why would I want to focus on schoolwork? It’s going to be enough of a problem as it is. Sabrina’s gone, so no one is doing my work. I might be able to get Lila to do it, but she’s not around that often. If this keeps up we’ll have to hire someone!

She wasn’t making sense….

Felix: Hire someone? You mean a tutor? What subjects are you feeling behind on?

This was something Felix’s talents were well suited towards. That he might be able to help caused a strange ticklish warmth to flicker within.

Chloé:Tutor? I already have a teacher who talks at me for hours a day, why would I want another one? I meant someone to do the work my teacher assigns! There’s so much of it.

Felix: Group education does place an emphasis on repetition and regurgitation. Still, you should be able to manage it on your own, you haven’t entered anything truly challenging yet.

More minutes passed. Felix reread his text and words popped out at him as troublesome. He could just imagine Chloé’s face screwed up in concentration while she typed out the words in an online dictionary. It made the time pass faster.

Chloé: Whatever, smartypants. I’m sure I could do it if I wanted to, but I don’t! I shouldn’t have to. I’m rich! Poor people work!

There were many angles of attack to such a statement. He tried her main weak point: Ego.

Felix: Look at it as a chance to prove how much better you are. I’ve found it quite satisfying, myself.

Chloé: I shouldn’t have to prove anything! I’m rich! That’s proof enough.

Felix hummed, then blinked. He’d never emitted such an unguarded admission of indecision before.

Felix: I know plenty of very useless rich people. My uncle is rich and he’s the least of creatures to crawl upon this earth as far as I am concerned. Money doesn’t make you better. All it does is open opportunities for you to improve and demonstrate your worth.

He frowned, hesitated, then hit send. Something about this conversation was turning the warmth into unease. The images of the person he held in his head and the person who he was texting were diverging.

Chloé: Worth? Worth! Ridiculous! I’m worth more than all of them put together! I’ll show you I have worth, you stupid British gremlin! You’ll see!

That was… unexpected. Felix turned it over in his head and a very real fear struck him. Was she mad enough for the butterfly? Would she let herself be turned? He had an entire message written out before pausing then deleting it. Would asking if she was in trouble push her further?

He felt seconds ticking by as he considered new angles of attack. Was she sitting and stewing waiting on him? This form of communication left much to be desired. He tapped out a quick reply.

Felix: Chloé, you are not required to prove anything to me in particular.

More waiting, anticipation turning to dread.

Chloé: Apparently I am! And if stupid schoolwork is all you care about then I'll workschool it better than even nerdy Max! Now excuse me I need to go fix my makeup and then waste a bunch of time on an idiot!

It was as if she was speaking some peculiar dialect Felix couldn’t piece together. He itched to reply, but the phrase ‘now excuse me’ seemed to indicate she was done with the conversation. He let it go, it was past time for his workout in any event.

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

Today was plyometrics and cardio. The first portion went well. He was keenly focused on pushing his body to the limit. His drive had increased rather than ebbing in the wake of securing his freedom. One minor inconvenience: he had not yet found a comfortable way to wear the brooch on his person in exercise clothing. The little voice unhelpfully supplied, She probably knows jewelry, all about it. You could ask.

From that point on he was stuck, ruined for focus. At the end of every set his thoughts drifted to wondering when the next trip to Paris might be, seeking some excuse to make it sooner rather than later. By the time he was pulling himself from the complex’s indoor pool at the end of his cardio, his mind had betrayed him to the point there was some hallucinatory glee bubbling in his veins. I can just pop over tonight-

Reality asserted itself. No, he couldn’t. He didn’t have a reason to. Even if he did, she was in Paris. Even if she wasn’t, Why am I thinking about this?! Felix scrubbed his hair viciously with his towel then dropped it back on the pool chair, realizing as he did that his phone was vibrating under his robe.

Felix pulled it out and flipped it over just as it tripped over a missed call; 37 missed calls, all from her. He was already making his way into contacts when his phone lit up again. He stabbed pick up with his heart inexplicably in his throat.

“Hello?”

“H-H-hic-how do I do-do ma-aath?” She was sobbing.

Extreme annoyance bloomed, then thankfully, a self-correction. Felix answered in a neutral tone. “What?”

“Hic- Math! Stupid pointless, ugly, ridiculous math! s-s-sa-Sabrina always did it. It can’t be that hard, but it’s not working!”

Felix’s heart was still settling, and not from the workout. He picked up his towel and robe in one hand, exiting the pool area while still dripping. “Calm down. What math? What are you trying to do?”

“Math! What kinds are there? It’s numbers, and none of it makes sense! I’m smart, I should be able to do math! Don’t laugh at me!”

Felix hadn’t laughed, he hadn’t even thought to laugh, but her words were slurring together and flowing freely. The familiar layer of discomfort at such a display laid on him like a blanket, but this time nestled within was a nugget of a different sort. She was in pain, and he would do something.

“Chloé, calm down. I’m moving as quickly as I can.” Felix jabbed the elevator call, but seeing it on the eighth floor he pushed into the stairs and began the ascent on already burning legs.

The echoes of his feet must have carried over the phone. “Felix? Where are you? What’s going on?” At least it snapped her out of her frenzy.

“I’m moving somewhere more productive. Aquamathematics is not a field I expect to take off.” The explanation cost him a burning in his chest.

“Felix! Now is not the time for big words!” her voice was still thick, but at least it ended with a singular laugh.

"Hold on, Chloé, I'm coming."

It was ten more flights to the penthouse. There was a real possibility he would have made it faster if he had waited for the elevator. If nothing else he would not have staggered breathless into his room. But for the first time Felix was subject to the very thing he had mocked in others as foolishness. The need to be doing something. Efficiency didn't matter -unthinkable- effort did.

"Video…call…my laptop…" he panted as he dropped into a chair. A quick wipe took renewed sweat off his hands, face, and forearms before he booted it up.

The video call icon lit up almost immediately. Chloé's face started equal parts confused and pained, but rapidly morphed into surprise, followed by forced and obvious neutrality. "What is going on, Felix?"

Felix slowed his breathing, rested his elbows on his desk, and folded his hands. He set his chin atop them and said calmly. “Show me your problem.”

Chloé cycled between elation, hesitation, and renewed hope. She lifted a worksheet and turned it to face him, pointing at the problem, “It’s so stupid! They misspelled Cousin. What’s this seven doing down here? This isn’t even a number or a letter, and if the whole thing equals 3 what am I supposed to do? It’s already done!”

Felix squinted at the equation through the videofeed. “It’s a Trigonometry problem.”

Chloé flopped back in her seat. “You mean Ms. Bustier gave me the wrong work? It’s supposed to be math.”

“Chloé, it is math.”

She looked between him and the paper, something akin to fear creeping across her face. “What- no. Math doesn’t look like this. The other things didn’t look like this. See?” She jabbed another problem with a finger.

This time Felix took a moment to absorb. What was obvious was clearly not all there was. The sheet was effectively, if simply, laid out. Each problem fed into some part of the next. Felix’s eyes tracked upwards. “Chloé, number two, what are you doing there?”

She turned the sheet back to look at it. Then spoke in the sort of perfect enunciation people have when they are both very certain and worried they are suddenly very wrong. “It’s multiplying, Felix. That’s eleven times seven.”

She’d written out 11+11, added it, then 22+11, and repeat. Suspicion began to take root. Felix scanned some of her other -wrong- work. He grabbed a pen and paper and scribbled a quick basic equation. “Here, can you do this?”

She frowned at the paper. “That’s a fraction, Felix. Twenty Fourths.”

“Right, can you simplify it?”

“It’s one fraction. How much simpler can it be?”

“Chloé, you divide it out. Divide twenty by 4. You can do that, right?”

Chloé snatched her own sheet back to her chest. “Of course I can!” She turned and began scribbling on the back of the paper.

Felix could hear her penstrokes. He knew when it had begun to take far too long, even for showing work. She worked diligently though and when she turned the paper back to him she announced proudly, “Five!”

On the paper was the real story though. She had written it out:

4+4=8 II

8+4=12 I

12+4=16 |

16+4=20 |

IIIII 5

She wasn’t wrong, but… “Chloé- how- that’s how you learned to do division?”

She wilted under his disbelief. “Why was I ever going to need division anyway? Who wants to have less of something?”

Disbelief crumbled in the face of evidence. “Chloé, how long was Sabrina doing your homework?”

She wilted further, turning the page back to herself. “It’s right… it’s right, isn’t it? I did it right!” her voice rose to a panic. “I’m not stupid!”

Felix dropped his head into one hand. “The term is uneducated, and apparently so. Although a deficiency this egregious being overlooked is clearly not entirely your own fault. It is a failure on a shocking number of levels.”

“I did it!” her voice rose in sudden shriek. Felix heard the sound of paper tearing. “I did your stupid homework, and all you do is make fun of me with big words. If you want to call me stupid you should just say it! I can’t believe- I should have known better with your stupid Adrien game all the time!”

Felix looked up just in time to see the camera’s view swirl and bounce crazily. “No wait, Chloé don’t!”

The scream that came from the speakers made him fear for the worst, but one last swirl of motion before the camera showed a brief arc of the ceiling then the image almost blacked out. Almost-but not quite. Felix could make out the edge of a keyboard, a red patterned comforter. Wedged up under her pillows…

Felix could make out faint sounds. Distant and with a lousy built-in microphone. He still had a hunch what they were. He didn’t like them, for more than one reason now.  Felix picked up his phone. His call was answered surprisingly fast, but only blubbering greeted him on the other end. He waited for it to abate.

When it failed to, he said simply, “You are not stupid.”

A powerful unladylike sniffle, some coughing, and more horrid sounds were his answer.

“You’re foolish, naive, gullible, short-tempered, ignorant, unreasonably cruel at times, and apparently uneducated, but you are not stupid.”

That got a bitter laugh, “Fuck you, Felix. You suck at this.”

He returned the laugh. “I do. You are also surprising, observant, and unexpectedly loyal.” He hesitated. The voice had words, but he hadn’t parsed them and they were… alarming.  He spoke them anyway. “There is likely more to that list. I haven’t had time to study those aspects much. I- would like to.”

“Really? I mean-” A large sniffle and her affected tone returned, “Of course you would, after all I-” A sigh and it dropped, “No, I can’t do it right now. I- Really?”

“Apparently.”

The picture on his laptop shifted and spun again, opening up into a messy-faced Chloé, “You really suck at this.”

Felix hung up his phone and addressed the screen. “Let us be clear, I am not even sure what this is. My personal tastes…”

“Yeah, I know. I figured that part out, didn’t I?” She was still wiping at her makeup with her hands, not improving matters. “A girl can dream though, can’t she?”

There was too much built up. Felix had been running through the conversation without his usual buffer for emotions. He needed to unpack and analyze. He tried shifting to a different topic. “I could help you with your studies. I will not do your work, but I can organize some kind of a lesson plan you have clearly lacked.”

Chloé flopped on her bed on screen. A muffled, “Oh, so dreamy,” came back to him.

“Do you want my help or not?”

She raised up on her elbows and stared at him through the screen for a long moment, then looked back down at her comforter. “I’ll get sick of it and stop if I have to do it on my own.”

“Then I will see to it. I’ll have to come back to ask you more about what you have and haven’t actually learned. It will… probably not be pleasant for you.”

Her voice was desperately small when she asked, “Let me take you to dinner?”

A thousand warning bells went off. He tried to placate them. “Nothing… cozy.”

“It’s a deal.”

Felix felt like he had just made it through the narrows under the mansion for the first time, all over again. He sat back, glad her eyes were not on the screen. “Until then. I suppose we could start with multiplication and division.”

Her head came up fast. “Start with?”

“Memorization. Let’s see what you can do without paper and work from there. This is an assessment, not a test. We are here to stretch your mind. You take Ballet. Stretch your body at the same time if you like, combining mental and physical stimulation can aid in retention.”

She flopped back down again, but pulled herself up. “I’m going to hate this.”

“Probably.”

“If I’m going to stretch, can I use my phone?”

“Of course.”

The next two hours passed… uniquely. Running someone his age through basic math exercises was never something Felix expected to do. Chloé was dismal, there was no denying that. She was easily distracted, woefully unpracticed, and he could sense the simmering urge to shout her way through it all lurking just beneath the surface.

Somehow, that last observation took on a different meaning as time wore on.

She got better, slightly. Feiix caught her cheating when he shifted to things she couldn’t use her fingers to count on, but he didn’t bother to expose the subterfuge. He moved around his room, waved off his mother’s curious inquiry from his door, and ended up laying on his bed until a glance at the time reminded him just how long this had gone on.

“I need to be going.”

Chloé let out a small grunt of effort then a sigh of relaxation. “Good, I was running out of stretches.”

There was a curious hindbrain response to that statement. Something else for him to sort through. “You kept going longer than I expected.”

“Maybe I just never had a good teacher before.”

“I would not doubt that, but thank you.”

“So… mind turning the camera on for a minute before you go?”

Confusion was answered with ‘Seems harmless’ by the voice. Felix turned on the video call feature and held the phone at arm’s length while he lay on his back.

Chloé’s face appeared. She leaned in close to the camera, one large blue eye filling his screen. “I thought so.”

“Thought so?”

“Just a little reward to myself for being good.”

Felix raised a brow. “What are you talking about, woman?”

She held her phone further back and raised a hand to circle a finger at him. “Nothing, nothing, just… wear something different to dinner, okay? Good night Felix!”

With that the call ended, and Felix looked down at himself. Oh of all the-

He was still wearing only his swimming trunks from the pool.

[owl-with-a-pen]

brainy or nia try on karas glasses one day and kara realizes that they were brenda/brandon?

- Oh my god, yes! Thank you for the prompt. x

“No, no,” Alex said decisively. “It’s been years and I still don’t get it. How the hell do glasses make it impossible for people to recognise you? I’d know you from anywhere.”

Nia grinned from across the table, lifting her drink to her lips as Alex pinched Kara’s cheek, only to be batted away by her little sister a second later.

“Okay,” Kara said with a snort. “Your next round is gonna be water shots.” She turned her head from the table, making a show of searching the bar. “Where’s Al?”

“Oh, you know he heads out back the second this party rolls in,” Kelly said with an impish smile, raising her own glass. She took Alex’s hand before she could pester Kara any further, winding their fingers firmly together. “Although, I have to agree with the water.”

“Hydration would appear useful at this stage,” Brainy added with a sage nod. “She may also benefit from lining her stomach with something a little more substantial.”

Nia grinned, leaning back against Brainy’s chest. “Is that your not-so-subtle hint that you want more onion rings?”

She’d perched herself on the edge of Brainy’s stool some time into the evening; her smile widened when she felt his hands link around her front in response. “Sometimes, multiple issues can call for a single solution,” Brainy pointed out, tucking his face into her hair. “What is the saying? Two birds, one stone?” Nia's face warmed when Brainy’s lips traced idly along the side of her jaw.

Kara grinned. “Well, hey, I’m not gonna say no to more onion rings.”

It was fair to say that they’d all had a few drinks between them by now, although Kelly and Alex were strictly drinking from the human menu. Things always got a little whacky with alien grade alcohol, and despite her half-Naltorian genetics, Nia had barely been able to stomach a single sip of Brainy’s drink of choice. It suited his tolerance level far better, and made for a slower automatic response for his body to factor out the alcohol and sober him up. If his sudden confidence with intimacy in a public environment was anything to go by, Nia figured it was definitely working.

Nia knew Kara was drinking something similar to Brainy, although her Kryptonian biology made her far more resilient against its contents. She wasn’t even slurring.

Meanwhile, Nia was feeling all kinds of warm inside. Although, Brainy’s hold on her was probably a major factor in that.

It had felt like forever since they’d last gone out like this, and from the recent stress they’d all been under, it wasn’t exactly surprising that they’d found their way to Al’s bar. Plus, after the number of times they’d saved this place from one catastrophe or another, they got some incredibly generous discounts even on some of the rarer beverages. It was just unfortunate that Alex’s human tolerance really wasn’t matching up. And, considering Kelly was still on her first drink, she was currently the only person everyone was sorely worried about getting home safely that night.

With that in mind, Nia was just about to suggest heading up to the bar to go order, when Alex made her move, whipping her hand out quick enough to snatch Kara’s glasses straight from her face, balancing them across her nose.

She turned to Kelly immediately, staring at her levelly. “Well?” she asked expectantly. "How do I look?”

“It’s like looking at a total stranger,” Kelly deadpanned. She smirked, leaning in closer. “Although, they do make you kinda mysterious.”

Alex’s smile broadened. “Oh really?”

“My turn!” Nia chirped, plucking the glasses from Alex’s face. She rested her elbows on the table, propping her chin up with her hands the moment she had the glasses on. She narrowed her eyes, testing out her new perspective. As anticlimactic as it was, nothing really changed. It was just like staring through two pieces of clear glass. Nia pouted. She supposed it wasn't unexpected - that was exactly what she was doing, after all.

“It’s weird being able to see clearly while wearing someone’s else’s glasses,” Nia mused, playing around with the glasses’ temples, wiggling them up and down in front of her face. “Has anyone who didn’t know your secret ever done this before?” She jerked her head up, snapping her fingers. “Ooh, I know, I bet you just tell them you both need the same prescriptions. Am I right, or am I right?”

Kara didn’t answer.

“...Kara?”

When Nia turned, she realised that Kara was staring directly at her, a half-stunned daze in her eyes.

“What, did the alcohol finally kick in?” Nia prodded good-naturedly, only for Kara to reach out suddenly, taking the glasses away from her. “Hey! I was using those!”

Kara remained silent. Instead, with unnerving intensity, she came forward, slipping the glasses onto Brainy’s face. Brainy jerked from the unexpected contact, lifting them away from his nose as though they'd burned. He blinked quickly in affront, eyeing Kara suspiciously. “What was that for?” he asked.

“It was you two,” Kara said mildly; her voice sounded far too calm for comfort, like she was on the verge of a full-blown freak out. “All those years ago, in Midvale. It was you.”

Nia spluttered at the exact same moment as Brainy. She snapped her head towards him desperately. “What?” she asked, registering the panic in Brainy’s eyes that she knew was reflected identically in her own. “No—what—no?” She dug her hand into her boyfriend’s shoulder, squeezing tight. “Do you know what she’s talking about?”

“I have no idea what you are- what she’s talking about-” Brainy snorted defensively. “Do-do you?”

Nia nudged him nervously, eyes wide. “I just said I didn’t, genius.”

“...Right,” Brainy said quickly, clearing his throat. He raised his voice, turning back to Kara. “Two admissions though! Thus further proving that we have no idea what you are talking—”

But, Kara was still staring, a cold glare of certainty in her eyes. “I’d know that scrambling for an excuse anywhere,” she said, taking Brainy’s hands and guiding the glasses back into place over the bridge of his nose. She met no resistance this time, Brainy was far too busy gaping at her. “Brendan.” She turned to Nia accusingly. “Brenda.” Her lips split into a pained smile. “Rao- I thought you two were hiding something, but I was willing to accept it, because... I thought you were lost.”

“In our defence, we sorta were,” Nia admitted sheepishly. “The crash wasn’t part of the plan.”

It was Brainy’s turn to nudge her. “Nia.”

“Give it up, Brainy.” Nia cringed. “We’re caught.”

Kara ran her hands through her hair, shaking her head in bewilderment. “What were you guys even doing there? When did this even happen for you?”

“When you were in the Phantom Zone,” Nia said slowly, ducking her head.

“We needed your DNA,” Alex said softly. It sounded as though the recent commotion had done a good job at sobering her up. “To track you down.”

“It was thanks to these two that we were able to save you at all,” Kelly added.

Something crossed Kara’s expression then, but it was so quick that Nia barely caught it. All she knew was that in that moment, Kara looked entirely vulnerable. “Why didn’t you tell me?” she asked weakly.

Brainy swallowed hastily. “Had you known our true identities in 2009, it would have caused ramifications in the timeline that could have irrevocably changed the future.”

“I don’t mean then,” Kara said sharply, attention snapping to Brainy. Her expression fell. “Why not when I came back?”

“It didn’t seem… necessary,” Brainy said uncomfortably. Nia felt his grip tighten back around her and ran her hand across his arm, squeezing gently.

Kara scoffed, folding her arms. “Not necessary? You guys were in my past—you saved my life, and you didn’t think to tell me?”

“So much happened,” Nia said carefully. “Kara, we didn’t want to stress you out any more than you already had been.”

“Come here,” Kara said suddenly.

Nia blinked her surprise, catching Brainy’s eyes quickly for confirmation. Hesitantly, Brainy nodded, unlocking his arms from around Nia’s waist. Nia slipped from the stool, stepping towards her alongside Brainy.

They stared at her unsurely for all of two seconds before Kara came forward, swooping them both into the most intense super hug Nia thought either of them had ever experienced.

Nia gasped for breath, wrapping her free arm automatically around Kara’s back. The brush of Brainy’s fingers confirmed to her that he had done just the same.

“I never thought I’d get a chance to say this,” Kara murmured into the space between them. “But, thank you. Both of you, for everything that you did.”

“For... saving your life?” Brainy asked, voice muffled with confusion. “You’re... very welcome?”

Kara laughed, pressing her face into his hair. “Not that. Okay, well, of course that. But,” She sighed, drawing away again, her hands still locked tightly against each of their arms, “you both came to me at a time where I was questioning so much. My future, my identity, my place on Earth. I was hurting, in more ways I ever let on. And without you two—I don’t know what I might have done differently.”

Nia smirked. “Wait…” She turned her head towards Brainy. “Does that mean we were always meant to travel back to 2009?”

“Pre-destined time travel.” Brainy pondered on that thought for a long moment, his lips twitching into a smile of his own. He shrugged. “I suppose stranger things have happened.”

“You did crash, though,” Alex pointed out from across the table.

Brainy shot her a glare.

“Destiny,” Kelly cut in, sighing dreamily. “I like that, though.”

Nia knocked Brainy’s arm playfully. “Just like how you coming to this time gave you the chance to live freely. With us.” Nia squeezed her boyfriend's hand secretively before she turned back to Kara, smile softening. “Maybe we gave that same chance to you, too.”

“Thank you,” Kara said again. She blinked, wiping quickly at her face where tears were near approaching. “I- I don’t even think just saying that cuts it.”

Nia's smile widened mischievously. “Hey, does that mean the next round isn’t on us?”

Brainy raised a finger in consideration. “I believe tap water is on the house, anyway.”

“Hey, no water,” Alex shot back. “And you guys are not getting out of shots that easily.”

They all laughed at that. And, just like that, Nia felt as though an invisible tension that had been tethering them together had finally loosened.

She smiled as she re-joined her family back at the table, hand-in-hand with Brainy.

For the first time in a long time, it really felt like everything was going to be okay.

[olliepig]

Centre Stage, ch 10

It’s taken a while thanks to real life thoroughly kicking my ass, but the next chapter is finally here! Massive thanks to my amazing beta and cheerleader @willow-salix, who, along with @misssquidtracy, @sugar-fiend, @inertplanetary and @chenria have all variously listened to me moaning and picked me up over the last few months. 

As always, the whole thing is also on AO3 here.

**************

Tucking his phone into his pocket, Scott pushed himself away from the wall he’d been leaning against, letting his long legs quickly take him around the groups of tourists as he made his way back towards the entrance to the gardens of the Peterhof. The unplanned alone time while Cat was stuck in an overrunning rehearsal had been a rare treat that he’d made the most of, exploring almost every inch of the palace and its extensive grounds as he enjoyed the peace of solitude that was hard to find on the busy island.

Now, alerted to her imminent arrival, he glanced at his watch impatiently, calculating that, despite her lateness, they would still have a gloriously uninterrupted twenty hours together before she was due back at the theatre the following evening.

Her debut with the Mariinsky Ballet in St Petersburg was a big deal, and he’d lost count of the number of times she had told him about the history of the company and the honour of being asked to dance with them. Her excitement had been infectious and, despite it causing a raised eyebrow from his dad when he had asked for the time off rota to attend, he wouldn’t have missed it for the world.

He was ashamed to admit that he hadn’t officially told his father about her, despite them having been dating for close to eight months. He knew Jeff wasn’t stupid and was completely aware that he had a girlfriend, but something had always held him back from sitting down with him and bringing it up. The obvious time for that would have been right after his return from the Oort Cloud, but it had been such early days in their relationship that he hadn’t wanted to do anything that might put more pressure on it. As the weeks went on and they grew closer, it never seemed to be the right time and, with every passing week, it   became harder and harder to admit that it had been going on the whole time.  

Turning his collar up against the bitterly cold wind coming off the Baltic Sea, Scott made it to the entrance just in time to see a sleek black car pull in. A smile crept onto his lips as he caught sight of Cat peering out at the golden domes of the palace behind him, reminding him of her first arrival onto the island where he was completely ignored in favour of Two behind him. This time, however, he didn’t have to fight for her attention when she got out.  She flew into his arms, catching his lips with hers in a fierce kiss before disentangling herself.

“Well, hello there,” Scott smiled as she grabbed her bag from the back of the car, slamming the door with a force that made him wince. “It’s nice of you to finally join me.”

“Oh shut it,” Cat grinned in response, taking the opportunity to snuggle back into him again. “It couldn’t be helped today and well you know it. Anyway, you know I’m worth the wait.”

“You sure are,” he agreed, placing a gentle kiss on her forehead as he tightened his arms around her, taking comfort from her presence. “I missed you.”

“I missed you too,” she murmured as she pulled back, taking him in properly for the first time, his pale skin and the dark circles under his eyes making her eyes widen in surprise. “Are you OK?” she asked, concern firing through her, “You look tired.” “I always look tired,” Scott countered, meeting her gaze briefly before quickly looking away, finding a passing bird very interesting as he saw the worry written on her face.

“OK then, smartarse,” Cat pressed, his lack of eye contact making her even more suspicious that something was amiss. “You look more tired than usual.”

“I’m OK, honestly,” Scott reassured her, finally looking at her properly, his eyes a studied calm that Cat didn’t fully trust. “It’s just been a busy week that’s all. You don’t need to worry.”

Cat nodded slightly, accepting his answer without further comment but making a mental note to keep an eye on him over their time together. She couldn’t put her finger on it, but she knew him well enough to know when something wasn’t quite right and all her instincts were screaming at her, telling her that this was one of those times.

“Shall we?” Scott asked, effectively changing the subject as he gestured to the entrance before them.

“Lead on,” she declared as they set off. They navigated their way through the imposing gates and past the grand palace, following the path that Scott had discovered on his previous exploration that would take them into the lower gardens with their spectacular fountains.

Despite the significant difference in their height, they fell into a comfortable stride with each other, Cat matching Scott’s pace with ease as they made their way around the beautiful grounds. Her hand fitted perfectly in his and he found himself absentmindedly tracing circles on her soft skin with his thumb as they walked together, not feeling the need to talk as they simply enjoyed being in each other's company for the first time in several weeks.

Cat lost track of time as they wandered, marvelling at the multitude of little fountains and walkways that littered the Lower Gardens. Scott confidently led the way down paths covered by archways of carefully trained trees, their fresh Spring leaves rustling as they provided merciful shelter from the contrasting warmth of the sun and the coldness of the breeze.

Finally coming out into the open, they came to a halt underneath the rear aspect of the palace, taking in the full vista. The late afternoon sun made the golden statues in the fountains sparkle as the water droplets created rainbows in the breeze.

“It’s so beautiful,” Cat sighed wistfully. “It reminds me a lot of Versailles.”

“Funny you should say that,” Scott smiled. “Apparently, Peter the Great extended the original plans after he visited Versailles, so I don’t think it’s a coincidence that it looks so similar.”

“How on earth do you know that?” Cat asked, trying but failing to keep the incredulity out of her voice.

“Because I’m amazing?” Scott tried, batting his eyelashes at her and making her giggle.

“Well yeah, we know you are, but generally, even amazing people need to find stuff out for themselves somehow,” she pointed out, raising an eyebrow as she spoke.

“Aah, but I’m not just any person,” he reminded her.

“Also true, but you’re not known for your interest in Imperial Russian history either, so spill it,” Cat pressed playfully, giving him a nudge and fixing him with her best pleading stare.

“Not fair,” he complained, the effect ruined slightly by the smile playing on the corners of his lips. “You know I can’t resist when you look at me like that.”

“Who said anything about fair,” she laughed as she wrapped her arms around his neck, batting her own eyelashes a few times for good measure.

“Fine,” he groaned, conceding defeat and wriggling out of her grasp to pull a guidebook out of his pocket. “I had to pass the time somehow when I was waiting for you, so I thought I’d try to learn a few things to impress you when you got here.”

“OK, that might be the cutest thing I’ve ever heard,” Cat murmured as she wrapped her arms around him again and buried her face in his shoulder, unsure what she’d done to be so lucky as to have someone as wonderful as him in her life.

Scott didn’t hesitate. Sliding a hand into her hair, he pulled her head back, meeting her lips with his own in a bruising kiss, the intensity of which took both of them by surprise. Pulling back, their eyes met briefly before Cat tightened her grip, burying her face in his shoulder once more as he cradled her head in his hand, holding her close against him, the outside world ceasing to exist.

For a long moment they remained there, cocooned in their own little world, until a sudden flash caught Scott’s eye, jolting him out of his reverie, his whole body stiffening at the first sign of a threat. Looking around he became aware that they had attracted quite the crowd, a number of whom were snapping pictures of them. Most concerningly was the woman he could see further behind the rest with what looked to him to be a telephoto lens on a professional camera. Immediately, he lost all sense of calm as his mind started working through all the options for getting them out of the situation.

Sensing his discomfort, Cat pulled back, looking up at him, taking in his troubled eyes before craning her head around to try and see what was upsetting him.

“What’s wrong?” she asked, only seeing groups of people milling around and flashing a smile at someone who seemed to be taking pictures of them.

“There’s a photographer over there,” Scott told her quietly, not wanting to make a scene and draw even more attention to them.

“OK,” Cat agreed warily, her smile fading as she took in his serious demeanour, unclear as to why he was suddenly so worried about being photographed when it had happened plenty of times in the past. “And this is a problem because…?”

“Because some of these pictures will end up in the press, and then we’ll have to decide whether to confirm or deny the speculation about our relationship,” Scott finished, suddenly unsure as to whether to keep her close or put some distance between them.

“Why do we have to do either?” Cat asked, looking up at him in confusion. “Can we not just let them talk and while they’re busy doing that, we can get on with our lives?”

“I mean, I guess that could be an option?” Scott mused uncertainly, his mind still whirling with the ramifications of them being pictured together as he reluctantly let go of her and dropped his arms to his sides.

Refusing to let anyone put an enforced distance between them, Cat discreetly slipped her hand into his and gave it a squeeze. She looked around, trying to decide on the best way to get them away from the situation that seemed to be making Scott so uncomfortable. Spotting a narrow path, she moved off, leading him away from the Grand Cascade and into a more secluded area in which she hoped they could talk more privately. Walking together quietly, she could feel him relaxing as the onlookers thinned out, allowing her the space to gather her thoughts before continuing the conversation.

The idea of making a private relationship public had always seemed absurd to her and wasn’t a subject she’d thought they would have to decide on so soon, despite the constant media interest in the love lives of the Tracy brothers and the fact that Selene had been erroneously linked with Scott only a few months before. While a few pictures of them together had made their way into the press already, they had just laughed about them and brushed them off, so she had no reason to think that any others wouldn’t be treated the same way. But Scott’s reaction, and their current conversation, suggested that she’d been mistaken about that and was going to have to think quickly.

“I’ll be honest, I hadn’t really given this a lot of thought yet,” Cat admitted, breaking the silence. “My instinct is to say nothing because it really isn’t any of their business, but I don’t know if that’ll make life harder in the long run.”

“Well, in my experience, when the press think that there’s a story, they’ll pick at it until it’s either confirmed or denied,” he replied with a sneer of disdain. “I don’t particularly like my private life being splashed across the papers, but if it comes to it, I don’t have any issues with putting a statement out confirming that we’re dating in the hopes that you’ll be left alone if we take away the mystery before it even arises.”

“Wow,” Cat breathed, her heart skipping a beat at the realisation that he was prepared to sacrifice some of his fiercely guarded privacy to shield her from the press. “I didn’t think you’d ever want to do that.”

“Of course I would; I love you,” Scott declared, stopping to pull her into him for a kiss, amazed that she could possibly think that he wouldn’t do anything to make sure that she was protected. “I don’t have any issues with telling the world if it means you’re not hounded for a story. I’m just worried that if we don’t say anything, you’ll end up being the prime target for them because you’re much more accessible than I am, so really, it’s your decision. We both need to be happy with what we do but I think it’s only right to be led by you here.”

“I just don’t know,” Cat sighed as they started walking again. “I don’t like the idea of having the press at my door, but if we say something, my concern is that my family will find out and start trying to find a way back into my life because of who you are.”

“Yeah, I can understand that, and given your previous experiences with them, I can’t say I’m surprised you’re worried about that,” Scott sympathised, giving her hand a squeeze of reassurance. “But just remember that if they do start bothering you, you’ve got my full support now and I’ll do everything I can to help in any way that you want.”

“Thank you,” Cat smiled gratefully as they came to a stop at a viewpoint looking out over the Baltic Sea. “You have no idea how much that means to me.”

“There's nothing you have to face on your own now, remember that,” Scott reassured her, tucking a stray lock of her hair behind her ear and smiling as she leant into his touch. “The way I see it, we have two options right now. We either put out a press release, confirm that we’re together before the speculation gets too much and deal with whatever consequences come our way from your family, or we say nothing, continue as we are and deal with whatever that brings us in terms of disruption if the press interest becomes too much for you.”

“Yeah,” she sighed, not particularly wanting to make a decision but knowing that she had to. Her privacy was important to her too and not just because of her family, so the thought of the world knowing about her still relatively new relationship made her deeply uncomfortable. Equally, the idea of potentially having the press at her theatre or worse, following her home, didn’t exactly fill her with joy either.  

Snuggling into him against the bitingly cold wind, she took a moment just to enjoy the feeling of his arms around her, holding her close and reminding her that they were in this together, regardless of what they decided.

“Neither option sounds great, does it?” she admitted as the silence stretched between them, knowing that the decision was hers alone.

“Not really,” Scott agreed sadly, tightening his arms around her just a little bit more. “Trust me, I wish we didn’t have to deal with this sort of thing but unfortunately it seems to come with the territory.”

“I know,” she replied softly. “I guess I kinda knew we’d have to decide on this at some point. I just didn’t expect it to happen so soon. Or in Russia.”

“Yeah, I have to admit that this wasn’t top of my list of places I thought we’d be when we had to have this conversation,” Scott laughed.

“Right,” Cat declared, straightening up in a way that told Scott a decision had been made, causing him to release her from his arms. “I say that we just let the press stew. We’ve done perfectly well without confirming anything so far, and I sort of feel that as soon as you tell the world about something, you start to get expectations put on you about it and I don’t know about you, but I cannot be fucked dealing with that shit.”

“I couldn’t agree more,” Scott smiled, leaning over to press a soft kiss on her head as they leant on a railing next to each other, looking out to sea.

“It’s a deal then,” Cat declared with an emphatic nod. “Let's get on with our lives and if people want to speculate, then that’s up to them. We don’t even know what’s going to happen if those pictures get published and obviously if the situation changes then we can revisit it, but I think for the moment at least, we’re better off not saying anything.”

“That sounds like an excellent plan,” he agreed, slinging an arm around her shoulder and pulling her close as she shivered slightly. “Shall we head back now?”

“Yeah,” Cat agreed readily. “It’s bloody freezing, isn’t it?”

“It really is,” he laughed, offering her his arm before leading the way back into the maze of pathways.

Walking quietly, Cat found that now the mood had lifted, she was much more aware of her surroundings. The part of the gardens by the sea was exquisite and she found herself dawdling, slowing Scott’s stride as she took in all the floral arrangements surrounding an ornate building that Scott informed her was in fact Peter the Great’s summer house, pointing out ones to him that particularly took her fancy.

A persistent chime coming from Scott’s wrist broke their conversation, taking her by surprise and his face, when she glanced up before he answered it, suggested that he was not the only one unhappy about the unwelcome intrusion into their day.

“What is it, John?” he answered smoothly, turning away from Cat as he did his best to hide his displeasure.

“I’m afraid we have a situation,” John informed him. “Four climbers trapped in the Southern Alps. Virgil and Gordon are coming to get you in Two.”

“Can’t they handle it themselves?” Scott asked. “I’m on leave and even if I wasn’t, I’m not exactly on the way.”

“I know and I’m sorry,” John sighed, his displeasure at the task that had befallen him apparent. “I’ve already checked, but Dad - “

“Gotcha,” Scott growled before John could finish. “I’ll be waiting when they get here.”

Cutting the call without even waiting for John’s response, Scott turned on his heel and began to stalk back towards the entrance to the gardens, leaving Cat to scurry along behind him.

Gone was the relaxed attitude of a few moments before and as Cat hurried to keep pace, she took in the firm set of his jaw and the way his eyebrows gathered together. She was at a loss as to his response to John’s call. It wasn’t out of the ordinary for leave to be cut short or cancelled at the last moment because of a rescue, and his reluctance to jump into action was very out of character.

The more she thought about it, the more she realised that John’s demeanour on the call had been strange too. It wasn’t the first time that he had called to report a rescue while Scott had technically been on leave but from what little she had seen, there seemed to be a tension there that she’d never been aware of in the past.

“Sorry about this,” Scott started as they reached the car park and found space large enough for Two to land, helped by the late hour and the fact that the majority of tourists had left for the day.

“You don’t need to apologise,” Cat reassured him, taking his hand in her own and giving it a squeeze as she scanned his face for clues. “It’s not the first time this has happened, and I very much doubt it’ll be the last.”

“I know,” Scott sighed, seeming to deflate a little as he stood. “It’s just really frustrating that’s all.”

“You sure that’s all that’s bothering you?” Cat pushed, no more convinced by Scott’s words than he was.

“I sure am,” Scott replied, the forced jollity in his tone grating with the tension radiating off him as he forced a smile.

“Fair enough,” Cat agreed, knowing better than to push him.

Getting Scott to talk was a delicate operation when he didn’t want to, and when he was still in the first phase of being angry or upset it was well-nigh impossible. Experience had taught her that giving him some time to process things by himself was essential and forcing the issue at this early stage would be counterproductive in the long run, making him defensive and less likely to talk even when he had calmed down, so she let it lie.

“How long do you think we’ve got before you’re picked up?” she asked, changing the subject as best she could. “Do you think we’ve got time for a walk around the Upper Gardens before they arrive?”

“I reckon so,” Scott smiled, feeling the tension easing just a little as he realised that there wasn’t any immediate need to leave. Even his usual form of transport would take a little time to get to him, and by his calculations, they should have almost an hour before he was needed. “Anyway, it’s not like we won’t see them coming.”

Cat smiled as they turned back into the gardens once more, glad that he seemed to be making the best of the situation, despite his initial reaction. Whatever was going on, she intended to get to the bottom of it, but for now, she was going to make damn sure that they enjoyed the last little bit of time they had before duty took him away again.

-x-

Letting the door swing shut behind her, Cat crossed the room and flopped onto the bed, letting her bag and keycard fall beside her as she sank slowly into the soft mattress. It wasn’t exactly the way she’d expected to return to the hotel when she’d left that morning, and she eyed the bottle of champagne that she’d ordered accusingly, as if it was responsible for her lack of company, her mind whirling as she tried to piece together the events that had brought her here.

It wasn’t the first time they had been forced to change plans because of a rescue, but it was the first time that Scott had seemed genuinely angry about it. There had always been a quiet acceptance that it was part and parcel of what he did and while it had been a blow, he had never seemed as angry as he had been when the call came through that afternoon. The way he’d cut John off and then cancelled the call without waiting for a reply had made her wonder whether there was something going on that she wasn’t privy to, and it was fast becoming a nagging doubt that her mind wouldn’t let go of.

All her instincts told her that something to do with his dad held the key to the mystery, but she had no idea what it could be. They had promised to be completely open and honest with each other and until now, Scott had never given any hint that there was anything that he was keeping from her so she hadn’t had any indication that something might be amiss.

As she started thinking back however, she realised that there had been a steady decline in the amount of times that he had mentioned Jeff over the past months, aside from brief updates about his health. When he was first back on Earth, a large portion of their conversations had focussed on how he was and Scott’s hopes for his recovery, but they had steadily lessened over time and now it seemed that he barely featured. It seemed to have happened so subtly in the six months since his rescue that she hadn’t even noticed it at the time, but given the afternoons’ events, she found herself wondering if it was more than just the natural waning of interest in a well discussed subject.

With a start, she realised that Scott never brought him up any more, and a sudden chill ran through her at the thought that when she asked after him, he had started giving the briefest of answers before rapidly changing the subject. Given his desperation to get their father home again and the risks they had all taken in doing so, it now struck her as strange that he was not the centre of more of their discussions. Aside from this, there was nothing to suggest that anything was amiss and Cat found herself desperately hoping that her instincts were incorrect, but no matter how she dressed it up, Scott’s reaction to John mentioning him seemed out of character and spoke of some underlying issue that she wasn’t aware of.

Unable to lie still any longer, she hauled herself up, pulling her phone out of her bag and dropping it on the bed before quickly tidying the rest of her belongings away in the wardrobe. It wasn’t in her nature to be fastidiously neat but she knew how much her messiness irritated him and, while Scott had never made her feel bad about it or like she had to change for him, she wanted to make sure he had a nice, tidy room to come back to when he returned.

Finding that the movement was calming her mind, she allowed herself a few moments to stretch out her legs which were beginning to protest a little after a full day of rehearsals followed by the long walk around the gardens of the Peterhof. She knew they would be absolutely fine in the morning regardless of what she did, but the familiar stretches soothed her and gave her the thinking space to decide what to do next.

Her stomach rumbling alerted her to a more immediate need to order some food. Dinner reservations had already been missed so she quickly grabbed the room service menu and ordered herself some pasta for a quick energy fix, trying to not feel too regretful of the beef stroganoff that she desperately wanted but knew would leave her too bloated and uncomfortable for her performance the next day.

She had no idea how long Scott was likely to be. Although she very much hoped it would be a simple rescue, she was thankful that at least he had another keycard to the hotel room from when he had dropped off his bags before they met so there was no need for her to stay up until he got back. With nothing to do but wait for both her dinner and her boyfriend, she grabbed her phone and perched herself on the small seat in the window, idly watching the cars go by as she scrolled through her contacts until she found the one she needed.

“Catriona, what a lovely surprise,” Penelope answered, her voice sounding strangely tinny through the phone speaker. “I wasn’t expecting to hear from you.”

“Oh, charming,” Cat laughed. “Can’t a girl even give her best friend a call with no warning these days?”

“I just meant that I thought Scott was with you this weekend,” Penny huffed, though Cat could hear the smile in her voice.

“He is,” Cat confirmed. “Well, he was. He’s been called out on a rescue.”

“So you thought you’d call me to pass the time?” Penny queried.

“Something like that, yeah,” Cat agreed, finding herself annoyingly at a loss for words, her worry about the outcome suddenly outweighing her desire to ask Penny’s opinion.

“Well, you've caught me at a good time. I’m just on my way to dinner with the Swedish ambassador.”

“Ooh, that sounds fancy,” Cat cooed. “Are you in the car just now? And am I on speaker?”

“I certainly am, and yes, you are now,” Penny confirmed after a small pause, bracing herself for what she knew was coming.

“Hi, Parker,” yelled Cat, hoping that her friend had taken the phone far enough from her ear to avoid being deafened.

“Hello, Miss Catriona,” Parker replied without missing a beat, quite used to Cat’s tradition of greeting him as he was driving, one that had started when the girls were at school together.

“Now that you’ve got that out of the way,” Penny continued seamlessly, changing the phone back to its more private setting, “how are the rehearsals going?”

“Yeah, they’ve been fine, thanks,” Cat confirmed. “No matter how many lessons I got from John, my Russian is still pretty much non-existent but everyone speaks good English so it’s not been too bad.”

“Well, that’s good,” Penny replied. “And are you all set for tomorrow?”

“As ready as I’ll ever be. The stage is massive though and the rake on it is more than anything I’ve ever danced on before so it’s a bit daunting. I don’t want to travel so far downstage during the fouette’s that I fall into the orchestra pit.”

“Yes, I can imagine that being a concern,” Penny soothed. “I’m sure you’ll be wonderful as always.”

“I hope so…” Cat tailed off, the weight of expectations for the following night weighing on her in a way that they hadn’t until now.

Admitting her fears made it feel like a lot to handle. Dancing Swan Lake with the company that it had originally been created on nearly 200 years before was scary enough, without the added stress of worrying about whatever was going on with Scott. She’d very much hoped for a relaxed evening that night, but it clearly wasn’t going to be on the cards.

“What’s wrong?” Penny asked when the silence stretched out between them. It wasn’t like Cat to sound so overwhelmed, and worry spiked through her.

“Nothing,” Cat sighed. “I just… Do you know if everything’s OK on the Island?”

“As far as I know,” Penny replied, her interest piqued. “Why do you ask?”

“I don’t really know. Scott just seemed really tired and he wasn’t at all happy about being called out, which is really unlike him,” Cat replied, the words tumbling out now that she had opened the dam.

“I’m sure he was just disappointed to have to leave you,” Penny soothed. “And as far as him being tired goes, he’s probably just been burning the candle at both ends again. You know what he’s like.”

“That’s what he said but I just don’t know,” Cat sighed, rubbing her face with her free hand. “Something just doesn’t seem quite right.”

“I could always ask Gordon or see if I can find anything for you if you’re worried?” Penny asked, keen to do whatever she could to help out.

“No, no it’s OK. I don’t want to go snooping.” Cat squeaked, instantly regretting her choice to involve her friend. “Scott’ll tell me when he’s ready if there’s anything going on. I shouldn’t have asked. Sorry.”

“OK, well it’s your decision,” Penny replied smoothly. “The offer is always there if you want.”

“Thanks, but I couldn't invade his privacy like that,” Cat declared, already feeling uneasy about involving Penny in something that she was now sure Scott would rather be kept private.

“Yes, it might not be very popular,” agreed Penny.

“Anyway, how’re you?” Cat asked, rapidly changing the subject now that she was convinced that there wasn’t anything obvious going on that she’d missed. “How was that thing you and Gordon went to the other week?”

“Oh, the Governor’s garden party? Yes, it was lovely,” Penny confirmed, a hint of frustration in her voice making Cat instantly wary, even before she elaborated on the event. “Gordon though… well, you can’t take that boy anywhere.”

“Uh oh, what did he do?” Cat asked, moving away from the window and settling herself in a chair, feeling the need to be comfortable while she dealt with whatever complaints were heading her way.

This wasn’t the first time that Gordon’s natural exuberance had caused Penny to air her grievances about his behaviour after an event, but if she was honest, Cat had only occasionally felt that they were justified. The few events of this type that she had been forced to attend had been painfully boring and very restrictive in what was acceptable and her sympathies almost always lay with the aquanaut. However, her loyalty to her friend ran deep and so she felt she needed to be there to support and help in any way she could.

“Well, firstly, he wandered off while I was talking to the Governor's wife and was nowhere to be seen,” Penny began, her clipped tone making Cat wince slightly, her anger apparent. “And then when I did find him, he was in a corner of the grounds, playing what looked like rounders with some of the children.”

“And this was bad because…?” Cat asked, genuinely unsure as to why Penny was so upset about it.

“Because everyone knew he was with me and it is not how one is supposed to behave at these sorts of things,” Penny huffed. “There were lots of very important people there and I heard a good number of them making comments about it. There were chaperones employed to occupy the children so there was no need for him to be involved.”

“OK, I understand why that might be a bit embarrassing, but it sounds exactly like something Gordon would do,” Cat countered, wanting to challenge her a little.

“He used to act like this as a child,” Penny grumbled, the anger still evident in her voice. “He should have grown up by now.  Anyway, it wasn’t just that. I spoke to him about it and he apologised but then he disappeared again and I found him holding a platter of canapes and offering them to people. Apparently, a waitress had fallen and he was ‘just trying to help,’ but that’s what the staff were there for. It’s unheard of for a guest to behave in such a manner.”

Cat sighed. She could see where Penny was coming from and why Gordon’s actions would have been embarrassing to her at the time, but that didn’t mean that it was the disaster that she was making it out to be. Getting her to admit she was overreacting was a delicate task, but she had time on her hands and she felt like she owed it to Gordon to at least try.

“Admittedly I don’t know him as well as you do,” she began cautiously, picking her words carefully, “but again, that sounds like something that’s absolutely in character for him. I know for a fact that Scott would too if it had been him that was there.” “In normal circumstances, yes, helping someone who has fallen is admirable,” Penny agreed, a concession that Cat was surprised she had made so quickly. “But you know how stuffy these events are. I don’t like some of it any more than I’m sure Gordon does, but it’s what is expected and you need to play a part to fit in. My standing depends on it and I simply cannot be shown up like that by my guests.”

“I know,” soothed Cat. “But remember, all of the boys save people for a living so it’s basically instinct for them now. Gordon probably just saw someone in need and went to do whatever he could to help her.”

“I know, but I just need him to think a bit more about where we are and the image he’s projecting,” Penny sniffed, the anger slowly leaving her voice.

“I understand that, but just don’t go nagging him too much, OK?” Cat warned. “Just remember that it was his attitude of making the most of every opportunity and grabbing life with both hands that was one of the things that made you fall in love with him in the first place. I know you’re pissed off just now, but you can’t just expect him to turn that off when it doesn’t suit you.”

Silence stretched between the friends as Cat’s words hit home. Ordinarily, she would have tried to fill the gap, offering more advice or sympathy for how Penny was feeling but she was suddenly worn out. She’d lost track of the number of times she’d had conversations just like this one with Penny over the years, her boyfriends never quite living up to her exacting standards.

“I know,” Penny finally replied, her voice unnaturally quiet. “Anyway,” she added, sounding much more like herself, “his heart was in the right place and I suppose that’s the most important thing, not what everyone else thinks.” “I think you’re right there,” Cat agreed, her energy lifting now that Penny seemed to have accepted her words. “Nobody's perfect, but you’ve got a good one with a heart of gold and ultimately that’s who you fell in love with.”

“It certainly is,” Penny agreed. “Anyway, darling, I’m just about to arrive so I need to go.”

“No worries,” Cat smiled. “My dinner should be here soon anyway so I’d better head off too. Have a fun evening.”

“I’m not sure I’d call it fun but I’m sure it will be fine,” Penny laughed, the smile back in her voice again now that they were on more neutral topics. “Best of luck tomorrow, not that you’ll need it. Goodbye.”

“Byeeee,” Cat sang cheerily, hanging up the call as she crossed back to her perch in the window.

Looking down idly once more at the cars speeding past on the street below, Cat let her mind wander back over the conversation with Penny. It definitely didn’t seem to her like Gordon had made any massive mistakes, and even Penny herself had admitted that she didn’t always agree with the expected behaviour at the events she was so often called upon to attend.

Having been in attendance at some of these events herself in the past, she had first-hand experience of the rigidity of the class division between guests and staff. She had always found it laughable and so her sympathies were firmly with Gordon for acting as he had, especially in regard to the waitress. In any other circumstances, Penny would have been commending his behaviour, so she knew that her friend's anger had come from embarrassment caused by the situation rather than any real judgement on his actions.

Cat sighed, hoping that Penny would allow Gordon the time to mellow into the experience of attending high society events and not become too overbearing in her desire to help him fit in. Even though her concern always came from a place of generosity, Cat had found to her cost that it was sometimes misplaced and unwanted and she was well aware of how hard it could be not to get swept along with her, although she had a sneaking suspicion that Gordon might stand a better chance at avoiding it than most.

Quickly shrugging away unwelcome memories of her own painful experience of being on the receiving end of Penny’s help, she checked the time on her phone, wondering where her dinner was as her stomach let out another loud grumble of protest. No reassuring message from Scott telling her that he was on his way back was yet forthcoming either she noted, so she figured she probably had at least another hour or so before he was back too, depending on the complexity of the rescue.

She had to admit that she felt a little calmer than she had before now that she knew Penny wasn’t aware of anything that could be causing issues on the island. Aside from her obvious concern that Scott was unhappy, the fact that John seemed to share his anger had made her worry that her physical distance from the family meant that she had missed a more general issue and hadn’t been a support to him when he had needed her.

It was clear to her now that the issue was perhaps more limited to Scott and possibly John as she was sure that if Gordon was directly involved, then Penny would have known about it too. A little twinge of guilt spiked through her at the thought that she might have given Penny a hint of something that he might have rather be kept private but she shot it down quickly, reminding herself that she had only asked in the most general sense, not mentioning anything to do with her own suspicions as to the cause of his earlier anger.

A sharp knock at the door shook her out of her musings and sent her scurrying across the room to retrieve her dinner, having to stop herself from grabbing it from the bemused looking porter on the other side. Her stomach growled at the delicious smells radiating from the plate in front of her as she settled herself down at the small table and tucked in, but her troubled mind continued to whirl. All of her instincts were screaming at her that something was going on so, with a sigh, she grabbed her phone and scrolled through to find the number she needed. Placing it down, she drummed her fingers on the table as she listened to the rings until finally it was answered.

“Hiya Tippytoes!” sang the voice on the other end.

“Selene? Can I ask you something?”

[mud-castle]

Do you think Coral was orignally not as bad as we see in the books, because she had her mate by her side to balance her out and keep her cruelity more in check? I really think its interesting to consider, how Coral clearly loved Gill, and how much losing him might have affected her. I mean, they had almost FIFTY children together. FIFTY. The books really did us dirty by having Gill die, and never exploring the full ramifications for that!

I do think that Gill likely balanced her out and kept her in check as best as he could. I don't think Coral was ever fully stable, but I think she definitely got worse and worse as the years went on.

But, every time I think on how the loss of her children might have affected her I wind up back on the point that she could've just moved the eggs and not suffered nearly as much heartbreak.

I don't think she was ever good though. Look at the way she treats her sons, pretty much calling them useless cause they can't inherit the throne while her son Turtle is literally standing in the same room right next to her. She never even bothers to learn their names and I bet you she wasn't the one to name them. She thinks them so insignificant that she never bothers to mention them to Tsunami unless they happened to come up in conversation. She also pushes a full adult onto her one year old dragonet. Also she won't let Anemone play with the other dragonets her age (I won't get into the developmental ramifications of that) not because she fears her getting hurt, but because she believes they are beneath them.

I really wonder how she became Queen from how scatter-brained she seems and the fact that she was nearly killed by a barely-grown dragon.

I would've liked to see more of Gill, or at least the impact he had on those around him. Like, he was a well-known, charismatic speaker. Coral trusted him to carry out the political side of the war.

[afairytalestray]

The Dawn of the Age of Skimblegus

One of the most underrated ships in all of Cats.

Part 9 of my Cats pre-canon headcanon series (masterpost here), coming at you after delay caused by me taking forever to write this rather long instalment basically from scratch! But anyway it’s here now, and we’re back on character backstories, this time: Skimbleshanks, Asparagus, and a wee bit of Tumblebrutus being a mischievous sunshine smol. This one is maybe the longest one I’ve done yet; this was entirely unintentional and unplanned - it literally came to me as I was writing it. There is far too little Skimblegus content out there so I am creating the content I want to see! Just a content warning to start with: this one gets a bit dark - there’s a character death. Nothing too gruesome, but it is there. However, due to who I am as a person, it does have a happy ending. Without further ado, please enjoy!

Skimbleshanks, despite having god-tier dad skills, never actually has any biological kittens of his own. He’s something of an uncle figure to many of the Cats in the Junkyard (and the future adopted father of Mungojerrie and Rumpleteazer - coming in a future post), and is perfectly happy with his lot. In his youth, he was very much a free spirit. He had itchy paws, and when he discovered the trains he became obsessed with travelling up and down the country on them. His time on the trains became a delight to the human rail workers and regular passengers, and he became quite well-known as the Railway Cat - the workers even set him up his own little office (like Tama!). At first, he split his time fairly evenly between the trains and the Junkyard - as much as he loved to travel, there was one thing he loved more: his best friend Asparagus (Jr.).

Skimbleshanks and Asparagus grew up together and were nigh inseparable from each other for most of their kittenhood. Skimble couldn’t tell you when exactly his feelings shifted from platonic to romantic, it was a very gradual thing. Asparagus can - the first time Skimble went away on the trains for more than a day, he realised he missed him more than a normal amount and it quickly clicked into place. It was normal for Skimble to set off in the morning and bounce back in the evening, but this time felt like forever. Never being a shy one, Asparagus resolves to tell Skimble when he returns. Even though he doubts Skimble feels the same way (Y’ALL), he hates keeping secrets from his best pal, and he’s confident their friendship is strong enough to survive it.

But when Skimble came back the next day, he just couldn’t do it. Skimble was high as a kite; he went on for an age about all the things he saw, how amazing the trip was, how amazing all the trips were, how the longer ones were so exciting, how he wants to go here, there, and everywhere etc…. And all Asparagus can think about is that they seem fundamentally incompatible. Asparagus has always been a homebody. He’s quiet, likes the comfort of his own den, always being close to his family, and has never had that adventurous streak that fuels Skimble’s every move. And the thought that even if Skimble did feel the same it wouldn’t work, that is far too painful to entertain. He would want to be close to Skimble, but knows he could never be happy constantly flitting from place to place. He also could never ask Skimble to give it up knowing how happy it makes him. So, Asparagus makes the call to swallow it all down for now, and then let it go. This choice, unfortunately and unintentionally, causes a bit of a gap to grow between them, as Asparagus struggles to act normal around him and needs a bit of space to get over the feelings.

At this point, Skimbleshanks is aware of his own feelings, but for the life of him can’t work out how to express them. He desperately wants to, and is constantly thinking of new ways to do it, but keeps binning them when they’re not totally perfect. It has to be perfect! He also notices that Asparagus has been acting weird around him, but can’t get him to talk about it. It worries him, but he doesn’t want to push the issue, and he has his trains to distract him after all. A week or so later, he sets off on a multi-day trip, resolving that if Asparagus is still off when he gets back, he’s going to trap them both in the old wardrobe so they can hash it out properly, Skimble can confess and then they’ll all live happily ever after. 

There was nothing that could’ve prepared him for what he came back to.

Asparagus was right back to normal, albeit with the small caveat that he had met someone. A queen, a pretty ragdoll queen who was calm, clever and cautious, a little shy and reserved. When Asparagus excitedly introduced them Skimble felt his heart break, but he plastered a smile on his face and let Asparagus tell him all about how they met and how crazy their instant connection was. Asparagus had never meant to meet someone else, but he thought the best way to get over Skimble was to try and make some new friends, so despite his dislike of interacting with the general public and talking to strangers, he trotted on over to one of Bustopher’s clubs where he met Caorann. They both had a lot in common and hit it off right away, both of them bonding over trying to hide in the same corner since neither of them were comfortable in a room full of unknowns. Genuinely, the only other Cat Asparagus had had such a fast and strong connection with was Skimble, and since he had resolved to let his feelings for him go, he thought it would be a good thing to see where this might lead. The two of them fell in love quickly.

Skimble wanted to be furious, he really did, but he couldn’t. Caorann was nervous around him but always very sweet. Although she never knew about Skimbleshanks’ old feelings for Asparagus, she knew he was very important to him, and always strived to make a good impression. He was miserable and wanted to hate her, and at first couldn’t see how the two were a good match. But he could never bring himself to even dislike her, because it became very obvious very quickly that the two were more than a good match. Skimble, bless him, had never really considered the long term ramifications of being in a relationship with Asparagus, and was abruptly slapped in the face by all the same things that had occurred to Asparagus before: that the two were very different, and that their lifestyles just weren’t all that compatible. Caorann was a good match for Asparagus: neither of them were particularly adventurous, their idea of a perfect day involved little more than basking in a quiet patch of sunlight, and they shared the same lack of concern for the bustle and goings on of life outside their little happy bubble and the same desire to be comfortably settled. Fundamentally, at that time, Caorann was the better choice. Despite that, Skimble can’t help but think he might have given it all up for a chance to be with Asparagus.

But that hurt too much to think about, so Skimble went back to his trains, unable and unwilling to break Asparagus out of a happy relationship with someone else, but it never quite brought him the same joy as before. But it was a whole lot better than constantly seeing the Cat he loved in love with someone else, so he spent more and more time away from the Junkyard. The hurt lessened, after a while. It never really went away, but he found he was able to genuinely be happy when Caorann became pregnant, and vowed through joyful tears to be the best uncle in the world for little kitten Tumblebrutus when he was born.

On the day it happened, Skimbleshanks had recently gotten back to the Junkyard when a loud screech and a wail shattered the calm of the evening. Running towards the sound, the source was a sight that still gives him nightmares to the present day: baby Tumble screaming and crying as he lay trapped under the motionless bodies of his parents. It came out later that the three of them had gone on a family walk together, and on their way back as they crossed the road to the Junkyard, a car suddenly skidded round the corner and hurtled towards them as fast as lightning. Without thinking, Caorann and Asparagus threw themselves in front of their son. It worked. Little Tumble was almost completely unharmed, but Caorann was killed instantly, and they thought Asparagus had been too. However, as they were moved off of the road, they noticed Asparagus was breathing. It was extremely weak and laboured, but he was breathing.

Skimble can barely remember the weeks that followed. He only has flashes of burying Caorann, mostly remembering how it was wrong that Asparagus wasn’t there. All he can really remember was that everything hurt and was awful, and that he did whatever he could to help Jennyanydots, who took sole charge of Asparagus’ care (she and Jellylorum were already fully trained healers then, but Asparagus is Jelly’s little brother, and it was very difficult for her). He also tried to help look after Tumblebrutus, who was too young to understand what was going on. It took Asparagus a fortnight to wake up properly, and several more weeks to be able to move about independently again. When he woke up, he was deeply altered. He was in terrible physical pain, but also became emotionally despondent when he learned about Caorann. Skimble stayed by his side the whole time, trying to coax him into talking, maybe even smiling, and very gradually they made progress. Asparagus mourned his partner deeply, and was only able to pull himself out of it when he realised that Tumble needed him. It took a long time, but eventually Asparagus came back to himself.

To most other Cats, at least. Skimble was probably the only one who saw that Asparagus still had moments of deep sadness. To the others it just looked like he had zoned out for a moment, but Skimble knew those were the times when he was thinking about Caorann. These moments got easier for Asparagus to deal with over time, and although at times he missed her, it became pleasant for him to talk about her with Tumble, and he could remember their time with happiness instead of sadness, and eventually even realised that he was ready to try being with someone else.

The problem with that though, was that the accident had greatly damaged his body. He has chronic pain; he can no longer really dance like he used to, and can’t move around very far - leaving the Junkyard is no longer really an option for him. To his surprise, his old feelings for Skimble started to resurface. Although, he shouldn’t really have been surprised. Skimble had hardly left his side at all since the accident happened (the trains are in CHAOS), he’d been there through all the setbacks and progress, his meticulous nature shining through in his diligent care. He was such a constant in his life to the extent that Tumblebrutus was genuinely shocked when he learned that Skimble actually wasn’t related to him in any way (he basically sees Skimble as a second dad). However, Asparagus is more decided than ever that they wouldn’t work as a couple, seeing as how now he couldn’t join Skimble’s journeys even if he did want to. Skimble, though, is the deepest romantic at heart. He never stopped loving Asparagus, but knew he was needed as a friend first and foremost, so that’s what he was. He always says to himself that if they were ever to be more, he would never want to replace Caorann, so it would only be when Asparagus asked. So naturally, nothing ever happens.

Until Tumble puts his paw down. As he gets older, he struggles to understand why his two dads aren’t together. He knows about his mother, of course, but believes with his whole heart (correctly) that she would want them to be happy. He begins to plot ways to get them together, but doesn’t make much progress with the two stubbornly resistant Cats until Mistoffelees helps him. 

When Misto arrives in the Junkyard he’s looked after by Skimble, who introduces him to Tumble. Misto is painfully shy and quiet, but with Asparagus as his dad Tumble is very used to quiet Cats, and Misto becomes a tentative friend. By the time Misto is mated, more confident and moving out from Skimble’s care, he wants to thank him for everything he’s done and how kind he’s been, and asks Tumble for help. Tumble immediately tells all about how grossly in love his dads are, but that they aren’t together for some reason despite his best efforts. The two of them decide that the dawn of the age of Skimblegus is nigh, and come up with a plan.

The next day the two of them separately lure Skimble and Asparagus to a secret location under the guise of “it’s a surprise”, which works despite its simplicity as Skimble is very fond of Misto and Asparagus is Tumble’s loving father. The secret location is revealed to be a nice picnic setup, and the boys each leave their respective parent figure with the cryptic message of “do yourself a favour and tell him.” Skimble and Asparagus decide to play along, but all mystery is very quickly dropped, as the picnic is very clearly romantic and intended to be a date. Things are a bit awkward at first, but the two soon fall into their usual easy rhythm. That is, until Asparagus jokes about this being Tumble’s idea of a date (“I mean, it’s not like it’s bad or anything, but like, yeah…” “Haha, yeah, as far as romantic gestures go it’s pretty good.” “It is kinda romantic, isn’t it?” “It is a bit, but like, that’s not a bad thing of course!” “Of course! I can think of far worse dates to be on!” “And Cats to be with!” “Is this… I mean, are we, you know, on a date right now?” and so on).

And then finally, finally, it all comes out. Skimble finally reveals that he’s been in love with Asparagus his whole life, but never got the chance to tell him before, then didn’t know if he could or should after everything; and Asparagus says that he loved him before and again now, but just doesn’t know that it would work. It all gets very sappy and mushy, but they ultimately decide to give it a go. And it works! The two of them have always gotten along like a house on fire, but now it’s more, and better! Tumble is ecstatic, and of course takes all the credit for himself (with the exception of the 20% he grants Misto). Skimble does go back to the trains, he’s missed them, but now he spends maybe only ⅓ of his time there, and the other ⅔ in the Junkyard with his beloved Asparagus. They’re both extremely happy with the balance, and always spend hours catching each other up when Skimble returns. Although Skimble is very much still an adventure-seeker, now that he’s a bit older and more mature he definitely enjoys a long nap curled up with his partner! They’re a happy, healthy couple who support each other, make each other laugh, and make the worst dad jokes you can possibly imagine.

[smkkbert]

Time for a story - Level Two

To read before:  Present tense & Missing & So it begins 

“Did you find out anything?”

Dominic’s facial expression answered Oliver’s question before he shook his head already. Being at the precinct and talking to the task force that had been set up to find Tockman and the other criminals that had escaped during the earthquake had not helped at all. There was nothing that wasn’t in the files already.

“The task force is completely in the dark when it comes to Tockman,” Dominic replied, his voice low but still so full of worry, “and he is their last priority since his actions were less dangerous than the one of many others that managed to flee the prison.”

Oliver had anticipated that this was the case once he had seen who else had escaped. Looking back now, he could beat himself up for not checking the list of criminals closer when he had seen it. After the earthquake, he had worked his ass off to limit the ramifications for the people in the Glades. He had skimmed the list of things that had needed to be done for Iron Heights, bus he had passed those tasks onto other people. His priority had been taking care of the people in the Glades that had lost their homes. Again.

Maybe if he had taken a closer look onto that list or asked Felicity to keep a watch on the people that had escaped, Tockman wouldn’t have had an opportunity to plan and play this game. He would be behind safe bars now already, and Felicity would be in Oliver’s arms which was exactly where she belonged. She should be in bed with him right now, recovering from the night of sex that lay past them.

“Where is everyone else?”

“Downstairs.” Oliver nodded towards the elevator that led towards the bunker that was placed under what had used to be his campaign office. “I just needed a moment alone.”

He had gone upstairs to take some deep breaths of clear air and down the coffee Thea had gotten on her way back from the bunker after she had dropped Robbie at her neighbors’ place. Raisa had her day off and Oliver had asked her to keep Donna out of this for as long as possible. Once his mother-in-law had found out that he really was the Green Arrow, she had had troubles trusting him. She had wanted another, a safer life for her daughter and her grandchildren.

During their first conversation after Donna had found out that he was the Green Arrow, she had told Oliver that she had considered asking him to leave. She had thought that Felicity’s life as well as the life of her grandchildren was safer without him. Their conversation hadn’t really silenced her doubts. It had just soothed them a little. After that, Oliver had sworn himself to prove her wrong. He had sworn himself to show Donna what Felicity had always told him – that his presence in their life was enriching their family instead of tearing it down.

Now, after all the trust he had earned and all the work he had put into convincing his mother-in-law, he might have to admit that she was right. His presence was endangering his family because of his past.

Shaking his head, he quickly shook his head, pushing that thought away. He knew it wasn’t going to help him. It wasn’t going to make him feel better or focus on finding Felicity. It wasn’t going to add anything good to this situation. He could still worry when the time to worry about this came. Right now, it was just not the time.

When Oliver’s phone rang, he hurried to pull it from the pocket of his phone. A single look at the display told him that an unknown caller was calling him. His heart started pounding in his chest. It was clear to him who was calling. Shooting Dominic a meaningful glance, he told him what was going on, and his brother-in-law’s muscles tensed in response.

“Tockman.”

“Oh, Oliver.” A long sigh fell from his lips. “I thought you were smarter.”

Oliver felt his heart drop right into his stomach that cramped badly at Tockman’s words. The air got stuck in his throat. His hands started trembling slightly, and his attempt to stop them from doing so only caused his muscles to stiffen.

He knew what Tockman meant, and he had still trouble to convince himself that he had made the right decision.

“I don’t know what you mean.”

“Maybe I should have added another rule,” Tockman said slowly and almost softly, “that you are not allowed to lie. It might help you to hold your tongue. Then again, you don’t seem interested in the other rules I put up either. Why else would your sister and her husband, the mighty John Diggle and his wife as well as Dominic Cole and Bruce Wayne be walking in and out of your little hideout?”

Oliver squeezed his eyes shut, holding his breath. Of course Tockman was keeping a watch on him. Not even the best tech hacks that Bruce was certainly capable of could help covering their steps if Tockman was waiting around, watching his every move.

“I think that with the team you have called to your help, it’s only fair if I limit your time to the half of it which means you have a little bit more than sixteen hours left now. Consider this level two of our little game.”

Quickly, Oliver adapted the countdown on his watch. The beeping sound of Nick’s phone made him shoot his brother-in-law a brief glance. He was sure that the countdown downstairs had been changed too which was why someone was calling Nick now to tell him.

The thoughts were rushing through Oliver’s head quickly. There were a thousand lose ends that he could follow. He and the team had done their best to find the next clues and find out what to do next. So far, the most promising – and scaring – clue was connected to the words Tockman had have the mortician tell him.

“You buried Felicity alive.”

It should be a question because Oliver wasn’t as sure about that as the assertion made it sound. In the back of his mind, Oliver knew that it was the most logic consequence to the information he had – the small, dark thing Felicity was held hostage in, the words of the mortician, the fact that she could only be found alive if she was found in time – but he wanted to be hopeful. There had to be less horrific things than this being done to Felicity.

There was a long moment of silence that felt like it was taking forever. Oliver stared at the countdown of his watch, thinking about how he only had until the early morning night to find Felicity alive. Her time was running out on three seventeen tomorrow morning. How was he supposed to find her until then when they had barely some lose threads?

“You didn’t ask a question.” Tockman chuckled with amusement. “You are learning faster than I thought you would I guess.”

Oliver’s fingers tightened around the phone once more. He wanted to scream, and he wanted to run. He wanted to grab Tockman at his hair and slam his head against a wall and the floor again and again until the bones of his scalp had the same consistency as pudding. He’d enjoy the sight of Tockman’s dead body to his feet.

It had been a while since Oliver had felt that much rage the last time. Even when the Smoak & Queen Science Center for kids had been attacked in the middle of the day with dozens of kids around, Oliver hadn’t been this enraged. Sure, he had wished hell on the people responsible for traumatizing kids at a place that had been set up to make them feel safe. An attack like that was more honest than the coward game Tockman was playing right now.

“I like a fair game, so I’ll take it.” Tockman hummed for a moment, and Oliver could basically hear how much he enjoyed all of this. “Yes, I buried Felicity alive. She’s lying in a nice coffin, hopefully feeling comfortable. I can guarantee you that it was a good coffin, no cheap stuff. If you don’t find her, you can be sure that Felicity got a good and dignified place to rest.”

Oliver’s fingers had tightened around the phone so much now that he wouldn’t be surprised if his phone burst. The blood was rushing in his ears, and the urge to scream and kill Tockman increased all the more.

Thinking that Felicity might be buried alive had been bad enough. Now that he knew it was true, Oliver felt like he was going crazy at the bare idea. Felicity was lying in some coffin, probably several feet under the ground. She was treated like she was dead already when, really, she was still so very alive.

How sick did you have to be to enjoy this psychotic shit?

“Sixteen hours left,” Tockman told him, “let’s hope you will find her in time though I really don’t care. What’s one more death on your shoulders? Maybe her death will cause you to kill less or maybe more. It’s going to be interesting to find out.”

With that, he ended the call. Olive didn’t waste a second. He hurried towards the elevator immediately and pushed the button for it to go down repeatedly. Just before the doors closed, Nick pushed himself inside of the small cage too, looking at him with perked up eyebrows.

“What did we say?”

“That we were right,” Oliver said darkly, “with our suspicion that the mortician’s words mean.”

“She was buried alive?”

Oliver nodded his head, forming his hand to a tight fist. “Yes.”

He knew he was close to losing himself in the feeling of pure horror that was spreading inside of his body quickly. He couldn’t allow himself to do that though. Every single second he had left counted, and he would need every single one to find Felicity alive. He had to focus.

“I need your phone.”

Nick didn’t ask any question and just handed his phone to Oliver. Taking it, Oliver hurried to dial one of the many numbers he still had memorized. The dial tone sounded a couple of times before the call was taken.

“Donna Smoak.”

Donna hadn’t always introduced herself with her full name. Actually, she rarely ever had in the years that Oliver had known her now. Since her wedding with Quentin was getting closer, and she had already announced that she was going to hyphenate. Oliver guessed she wanted to say the name Donna Smoak a couple of more times before she became Donna Smoak-Lance.

Oliver squeezed his eyes shut, trying to gather his courage. Donna hadn’t had an easy life. She had suffered through a lot of injustice before she had found the happiness she had now. She loved her life in Starling as she had found love and family here.

Now Oliver had to tell her that maybe a lot of that happiness was going to be taken from her because he had pulled Felicity into his mission.

“Hello?”

“Hi, Donna.”

“Oliver.”

She knew. Oliver could hear it in her voice. She knew something was wrong because he hadn’t called from their phone at home or from his private phone. Maybe she had also heard the tension in his voice. As someone who was as close to him as a real mother, she did know him quite well after all.

“Can the kids stay with you today too?”

Donna hesitated. Oliver knew that her mind was racing. She was going through all the terrible things that could be happening to them right now that could make it necessary for the kids to stay with her for a little longer.

“Is Felicity alright?”

No, Oliver thought to himself, Felicity was certainly not okay. He didn’t know where she was or how she was doing right now, but he knew that she was not okay.

Earlier this morning, when Oliver had talked to Felicity, she had eventually told him that she was tired. They had talked some more before he had told her to go to sleep, so she was fit if they needed her knowledge and skills to find her. Felicity had been scared about going to sleep at first, and Oliver got that. He had been afraid of never waking up again whenever he had been on the verge of falling asleep on the island too. Oliver had promised to wake her up if anything happened.

Thinking about it now, he felt his stomach cramp even more. He would have to tell Felicity that he had less time. She needed to know that since it was her life that was on the line.

“Oliver.”

Donna’s voice was sharp as her nerves weren’t able to take it anymore. She needed to know what was happening to her daughter. Oliver couldn’t tell her all the details of what had happened and what still was happening though. There was no time, and he didn’t have the energy to say it, never mind soothing Donna.

“I will find her.”

Those words were much more than just a promise for things to be okay again eventually. They were a confession that Oliver had no idea where Felicity was right now. With the life they led, it was a clear that it was a dangerous thing to happen. When someone was taken, it rarely ever ended well.

“Where is she now?”

“I don’t know,” Oliver replied honestly, “I-“

The doors opened downstairs. Oliver pressed his lips together. He knew that Donna deserved to know all the details. She should know the danger Felicity in, but she should also know how brave Felicity had been to take Tockman down. Her daughter had only grown stronger and more courageous since then.

He didn’t have the time to tell her all of that now though.

“I have to go. I have to find her. I will have someone of the team call you and tell you everything,” Oliver promised, “for now I just need to know if the kids can stay with you.”

“Of course. Of course they can. What should I tell them?”

“That Felicity and I are needed for vigilante business. They understand that it’s urgent and that something could be happening. They won’t be angry that we lied to them and told them everything was okay when it wasn’t.”

“Okay. Okay, I will do that.”

“If anything is going on, just call Thea.”

“She is with you in the bunker? Although she is pregnant?”

“Yes.” Oliver stepped onto the platform in the middle of the bunker. “Thea will call you in a minute and tell you everything.”

“Okay. Oh, Oliver.”

“Yeah?”

“Find my daughter.”

“I will.”

Oliver hung up the phone quickly, trying to ignore the little voice in his head that told him that, of course he would find her, just not necessarily alive. He couldn’t think about that now though, so he just shot Thea a glance. She nodded her head and hurried to some quiet corner, already pulling her phone from the back pocket of her jeans to call Donna.

“Tockman found out that the team is in, so he limited our time,” Oliver explained and quickly checked that his watch and the countdown Tockman controlled were showing the same time, “he also admitted that he buried Felicity alive. We are on the right track.”

“Assuming that it was the right lead, we did some research on where he could have buried her,” Roy said, “and his sister is buried on a cemetery outside of Starling. The money he wanted to steal in Starling back then should have been used to save her. Instead, she died, and Tockman wasn’t allowed to visit her in the hospital or go to her funeral.”

“Maybe that is where he buried Felicity,” Lyla said slowly, “at least it’s our only lead.”

Oliver frowned slightly. He hadn’t known that Tockman had a sister, never mind that she had died. Maybe that was why he had chosen to attack Felicity now. Somehow, it just didn’t exactly add up.

“If his sister was so important to him, why would he call her into this? Why would he bury Felicity around her, knowing that we will bury her out there?”

Roy pushed his hands into the pockets of his jeans and lowered his gaze with a shrug of his shoulders. Dominic crossed his arms in front of his chest and narrowed his eyes at Oliver, thinking about his words carefully. Lyla was looking at Oliver with puckered lips while she was just waiting for him to answer her question. John seemed to agree with his wife, while Bruce was wary of everything.

Usually, they were a lot fast to decide. With what they had to lose here, nobody wanted to make the decision. Nobody wanted to say they should go there when it could cause them to lose even more time. Nobody wanted to be the one to blame if they made a wrong decision and didn’t find Felicity alive after all.

Oliver got that because even if he knew that the team would never endanger Felicity willingly, he would blame whoever would make the wrong choice.

“Lyla is right,” John said eventually, “it’s our only lead and we should follow it.”

It didn’t come as a surprise that John was the one to make this decision eventually. He was the one who knew Oliver the best of the people here. They had been a team for longer than Oliver had been with anyone else. If someone could take Oliver’s unfair reproaches, it was him.

As soon as Oliver nodded his head in agreement, giving the final go to leave and try this, everyone got up and took the things they needed or thought they could help. Only Bruce stayed sitting back in Felicity’s chair, still entirely focused on the numbers that were showing on the monitors.

“Aren’t you coming with us?”

“No,” Bruce replied, “because, just in case that it’s a red herring, I want to work on some other clues. Maybe the footage we receive of Felicity through the tablet can be located. Maybe there is a way to outsmart Tockman. He didn’t think someone with skills in tech was going to be in it, so maybe this is our best chance.”

“How likely is that?”

“Not much.” Bruce shrugged his shoulders. “It’s worth a try though.”

Oliver nodded his head. “I will call you as soon as we know anything.”

“I’ll do the same.”

The two exchanged a long gaze, assuring each other that they’d do everything they could to save the woman they loved. Either of them would use their own skills to make this work. Oliver would use his knowledge of Tockman. Bruce would use his interest and his abilities when it came to tech which luckily happened to be Tockman’s special field too. Together, they would hopefully make it.

Oliver had already taken several steps towards the back exit. “Oh, and Bruce?”

Bruce stopped working for a moment and turned around to Oliver, still in the chair. He perked up his eyebrows slightly. His eyes looked at him sharply though. He wanted to know more, and he tried to read it from Oliver’s face.

“You should tell Felicity that we might be coming. Maybe, if she hears us, she can give us a sign.”

Oliver could see how much this meant to Bruce. The thought that Oliver was giving away an excuse to talk to Felicity and make that painfully loud light shine into her face and offer that chance to him was more than Bruce had received from anyone in the last years or ever really. He knew it was no naturalness.

“I will,” he promised, nodding his head, “you can count on me.”

“I know I can.”

With that that, Oliver turned away and hurried after his friends.

 → → → → →

 “What exactly should we be looking for?” Roy asked getting out of the van. “I mean are we looking for something that screams scavenger hunt or are we looking for wet earth that tells us a grave has been scooped?”

Oliver felt his fingers moving together nervously at Roy’s question. He knew that it was important that they all agreed on what they were looking for. It would make it easier to split and look for traces at different corners of the wide cemetery. The better they knew what they were expecting, the faster they could find those it. Hopefully.

“We look for anything that’s suspicious,” John answered eventually, “no matter how big or how small it is. Tockman will not make this easy for us, but he wants the game to keep going too. There’s only a small line between those two options.”

“I found Beverly Tockman’s grave on the plan.” Lyla had her eyes narrowed at her phone slightly. “I think that is where we should start. If we don’t find anything there, we can still split and continued searching the rest of the area. Like Johnny said, Tockman wants the game to keep going, and searching the entire cemetery will take too long, especially since Oliver was meant to do it alone.”

Oliver doubted that Tockman hadn’t planned on the team’s involvement. He had planned this through thoroughly, and he must have known that the team was a factor to work into his plan.

“What do you say?”

Oliver nodded his head as it sounded a like a good plan. He was relieved that he didn’t have to call the shots here. He could barely think clearly. Despite the hope he had received through talking to Felicity on the phone, he felt the fear of terrible things happening to him soon. Tockman was serious about this, and he had planned this through well.

Following Lyla, they all hurried to the same aisle of graves. Oliver looked at the gravestones, skimming the names of the many people that had lost their lives and were buried here. He looked for any hint in the names, something that rang a bell or something that told him that there was something off. There wasn’t anything to notice though, or maybe Oliver just didn’t notice it.

Eventually, they came to stand in front of Beverly Tockman’s grave. It was a neatly trimmed grave. A lavishly designed and decorated stone was set up at the head of a bed of flowers. Flowers of all colors had been planted, reminding Oliver of a rainbow. If it was any sign, Oliver guessed that Beverly Tockman had had the same shiny temper as Felicity had. Maybe that was why Tockman was taking this thing between him and Felicity so personal.

Taking in a deep breath, Oliver pushed that though away. He shouldn’t think about this now. All thoughts about why this was happening should wait until Felicity was safe. They had to wait until then.

“Nothing looks suspicious,” Roy said, “at least on first glance.”

“Agreed.” John nodded his head. “Still, someone should check this a little bit more thoroughly.”

“I’ll do that,” Oliver said quickly.

“I could do it too,” Roy offered, “just in case-“

“I’ll do that.”

Oliver’s voice was a lot firmer now that he repeated the words. He needed to do something, so he wouldn’t feel as helpless as he had felt for the past hours. Searching Beverly Tockman’s grave certainly wasn’t as nice or as relieving as punching the crap out of somebody that could maybe give him some information. It was better than not doing anything and just standing back and watching though.

Too many times, Oliver had been forced to stand back and watch. When he had been forced to decide between Sara and Shado, he had stood back and watched until the gun had been pointed at Sara and he had tossed himself in front of her, causing Shado’s death in consequence. He had kneeled on the floor again, being forced to decide between his mother and his sister, and he had watched his mother sacrificing her life for both of her children. He had stood back, watching so many things happening. He couldn’t do it if he might lose Felicity. He just couldn’t lose her. It would kill him.

Putting his feet on the first stepping stone to the gravestone, Oliver crouched down. After a moment of hesitation, he brushed his fingertips through the topmost layer of earth there. Nothing was to be found though.

Oliver proceeded to the next stepping stone. Again, he crouched down and brushed his fingers through the topmost layer or earth. There was nothing to be found between the flowers though. Only when he moved his fingers closer to the gravestone, he found something. His fingertips brushed against something edgy.

“Got something.”

Oliver mumbled the words more to himself than to the people watching him. He hurried to push the earth away and lifted the small box made of wood out of the dirt. He turned it between his hands slowly and looked at it thoroughly. He tried to find anything suspicious, anything that told him if this was something good or something bad, but there was nothing there. Like with every trace Tockman had left so far, there was nothing that told him anything about whether it was a right trace to follow or a red herring to avoid.

That was the big question here, right? Was this a trace or a red herring?

Like Lyla had said before, this was their only trace. Tockman hadn’t given them much to work with. The connection between the mortician, the fact that Felicity was buried alive and Tockman himself was his sister’s grave. There really hadn’t been any other leads to follow.

Still, Oliver had a bad feeling about his. If his sister really meant as much to Tockman as he was trying to make them believe, he wouldn’t pull his sister into it. He hadn’t had a chance at saying goodbye to her. He wouldn’t desecrate her rest in death.

It really was there only chance though. There was no other lead to follow, nothing else to look into. They either had this or nothing, and doing nothing was not an option. He couldn’t do nothing. He’d lose too much.

Despite the feeling of impending danger in the back of his neck, Oliver took in a deep breath and opened the small box.

The big, red numbers jumped from fourteen hours and forty-one minutes down to seven hours and two minutes. His feeling had been right. This really was a red herring, and now there was even less time left for him to find Felicity.

How was he going to make this?

 → → → → →

 She could hear something. Felicity was sure of it. Someone was walking right on top of her, on the earth she had been buried beneath.

When the light had been switched on again after her conversation with Oliver, Felicity had thought that he was talking to her again to wake her up. She had expected him to think about how he could give her a sense of normality. Making sure that she stayed adapted to a normal rhythm of day and night had sounded like a logical decision.

Instead, she had heard Bruce’s voice. While there had been a brief moment of disappointed, something Bruce had recognized easily, Felicity had soon been relieved to hear any voice at all. Knowing that the team was working on finding her and that Oliver had gotten himself help that he certainly needed a lot had given her a good sign.

Bruce had told her that the team was following some leads to find her. That Tockman had buried her alive had shocked Felicity although it hadn’t really surprised her. She had thought about the place she was taken hostage in as a box or a thing. The moment Bruce had told her that it was probably a coffin, she had known that it was true. She had been buried alive in a coffin like she was already dead.

She was still alive though and she might soon get a chance at going back home. The team was looking for her at a cemetery, the same cemetery that Beverly Tockman had been buried on. It sounded like a good trace, something that could actually lead them to where she was, so they could get her out of here and take he home.

Exactly 3871 seconds after the light had been switched off again, Felicity heard steps. Now that she knew where she was – approximately six feet under the ground – she could assess the noises around her more easily. She could listen into the silence for even the smallest noise and realized what it could be. She had heard a dog barking. She had heard a woman arguing with her kid after it had run too far ahead. She had heard a couple in love talking about running away to get some rest from the world.

Now, Felicity could hear the team. Their steps were right on top of her. The thick profiles of their shoes pressed into the earth. Their voices were low, but she could still hear them. Roy was a little clueless about what to do, leaving the lead to the others as he often did in times of crisis because he knew his temper wasn’t getting them anywhere. Lyla was reasoning to go all-in as her experience with A.R.G.U.S. had taught her that risks were a necessary evil to get what you wanted. John was trying to maintain a balance between risk and caution as he always did, knowing that a clear head was the most important thing. A clear head was what Oliver was missing. He was desperate, going back and forth between blind activism and a feeling of numbness and helplessness.

They were here. Felicity could hear it, and she knew it. She had a good feeling. The team was here, and they were going to safe her.

“I am here!” she shouted as loudly as she could despite how tired and hit her fists against the top of her coffin as hard as she could. “I am here! I am here! I am-“

The lights were switched on again, and Felicity held her hand in front of her face protectively. Although she was sure that it was Bruce, who wanted to tell her that the team heard her and that she should save her energy for seeing her kids again, she couldn’t resist the urge. The light was so fracking hot. It seemed to burn right through the backs of her hands and into the sensitive skin of her face.

She wanted to scream, or maybe she did. Felicity wasn’t sure. All of this felt so incredibly unreal. She felt like she was caught in a horror movie or maybe a particularly bad nightmare that made her feel like she was losing her mind.

“Hey.”

The soft sound of Oliver’s voice made Felicity gasp for breath and hold that breath in her lungs. She was relieved to hear his voice, but she could also tell that there wasn’t any good news. Oliver’s voice was defeated.

Why would he feel defeated though? She could hear them. She could hear them calling their name to assure that she really was here. Maybe they couldn’t hear her, but she could definitely hear them. She could hear their voices and-

“We are back at the bunker.” Oliver made a brief pause, taking in a trembling breath. “We followed the wrong leads, and we lost time. We lost a lot of time because we made the wrong decisions.“

Felicity frowned, about to tell him that he had to be wrong. She had heard them barely two seconds ago. She had heard their voices, arguing with what was the right thing to do here right now. They had been calling out her name, telling her that they were coming although they hadn’t been sure that she was there.

Listening into the silence now, there was nothing but quiet though. There were no voices. There were no noises. Maybe there never had been.

Felicity knew the team. She knew how everyone acted in times of crisis. They had been through so many crises already that she had been able to categorize and memorize their behaviors. She knew their tendencies of actions in times like these. Maybe she had just wishes for them to find her so much that she had imagined hearing them. Maybe none of the noises she had heard had been real.

“We weren’t successful.”

There was more than defeat in his voice. There was guilt. He felt guilty for making her feel hopeful when it all turned out to be a trap the team had stepped into. They hadn’t found her. They were no closer to finding he. They had just given away time, putting even more pressure on them to find her soon.

As disappointed as Felicity was because she had been looking forward to being back in the arms of her loved ones and wrapping her arms around her kids too, Felicity knew that there was nobody to blame. Chasing criminals and playing along to their games was a dangerous business. No matter what good instinct and thorough experience they had with psychopaths like Tockman, it was impossible to follow their train of thoughts in all details.

This was a step back, but it didn’t mean that the game was lost. They would find her. Felicity knew it. There was a setback, but it didn’t mean that all was lost. It was going to be okay at the end after all because they wouldn’t give up.

“It’s okay.”

Felicity whispered the words, fighting against the tears that threatened to well in her eyes as well as the tight lump that formed in her throat. She could barely get a sound out. Her voice didn’t sound like herself. It sounded like a stranger even to herself.

“How can that be okay?”

Although she couldn’t see Oliver’s face, she knew exactly what his face looked like in this moment. His intense gaze was urging itself into her soul from his deep blue eyes through hers. He wanted to know why she thought that it was okay. Why did she assume that it could possibly okay if he failed during one of the most important chases of a criminal in his life?

“You will find me,” Felicity whispered, “it might take some more time, but you will find me.”

“You have been missing for eighteen hours now, and there are less than seven left.”

“I know.” Saying it like that really made it sound like they were about to lose. “But I also know that you will find me. I really know you will.”

Oliver sucked in a deep breath. The quite noise it created told Felicity how close to breaking down he was. He was struggling to keep going on because he felt like life was ripped out from right under his feet.

There was a long moment of silence. Felicity didn’t know what to say to fill it which didn’t happen particularly often. Usually, she knew how to fill a silence. Her babbling made it easy for her. Today, she really had no idea what to say or do though. There wasn’t anything to say.

“You know, I am making my wish now.”

Felicity frowned briefly, not quite getting what he meant. Only after a moment she remembered the morning of his birthday when he hadn’t known what to wish for, so he had extinguished the flame of the candle with the tips of his fingers. It felt like it had been forever ago when that had happened and the promise of a romantic birthday night had been in the air.

Closing her eyes with a low sigh, Felicity could hear Oliver using a lighter. She was sure that he kindled the candle that had been on the cupcake she had brought with her when she had woken him up. Had he had it with him the entire time? Had he just waited for the moment when he realized what he could wish for or had he taken it with him when he had left the house to go to the bunker and meet the team?

Felicity didn’t know, and she didn’t ask. It wasn’t important. All that mattered was that Oliver seemed to have that candle with him now.

“So here’s my wish.”

Oliver didn’t say the words, but Felicity knew that he was wishing for her to come back to him safely. Right now, there was nothing he wanted more, just like she wanted to be back with him too. It was the only thing she wanted because it was the one thing that she needed for her life to be okay again.

The silence felt like it was taking forever. Felicity thought about telling him that they missed out on birthday sex which really was a pity, but she didn’t say it. She knew that Oliver would know that she was just trying to be funny. Birthday sex wasn’t that important, not considering the things that might happen to them in the future.

If they never had birthday sex or any sex again, that would be okay right now. All Felicity really wanted was to be held by Oliver and to hold him too. That was all she wanted and needed for the rest of her life.

 → → → → →

 Oliver’s eyes were glued to the countdown. The twitching movements of his fingers were the only reaction at the time that ran out way too quickly. There was only a little more than five hours left. Soon, it was going to be less than five hours, and then it was down to zero.

How was he going to find her in five hours when there was nothing to work with? Why didn’t they get to move forward? What had they missed?

Tockman wanted to play a game, but it was only a game as long as both sides were playing. Without any hints, Oliver couldn’t make his next move. He couldn’t keep playing this dark and twisted game. He couldn’t-

“I got something!”

Like a hungry bevy of birds that noticed a crumb of bread on the floor, the team gathered behind Bruce’s chair. They all stared onto the monitors of the computers.

“Did you manage to locate the signal of the video footage?”

“No.” Bruce shook his head, and an almost angry expression spread on his face as he wasn’t happy admitting that he hadn’t been successful at the attempt at locating her. “The signal is being transmitted all over the world before it reaches us, and its changed again and again. I am working on it, but it takes more time.”

“What else did you find then?” Thea asked, leaning over his shoulder. “Is that a second destination for the data?”

“The video footage and the audio data is being transferred to us and a second location through a second channel.”

“Tockman,” John said immediately. “You got that son of a bitch.”

“Yes.”

“Then we should go,” Lyla said before shooting Oliver a glance, “and although I know you won’t agree with me, I still think we should get some of my agents into it, just a small circle of people I trust. Those would be the people I would trust with Johnny’s life and the life of our kids. I know you won’t like it, but it will be for the better. The more eyes, ears and hands we have, the better.”

Oliver didn’t reply. A.R.G.U.S. was the last of his worries right now. He wasn’t even sure if they should go to the location Bruce had found in the first place. They had made a wrong decision before, and it had taken a lot of precious time from them. They couldn’t lose risking more, especially as long as they didn’t have any other leads to follow.

“Oliver.” John looked at his friend intensely. “What do you think?”

“What if it’s another trap?” Oliver asked, his mind racing and his fingers rubbing together nervously. “What if this is another red herring to take even more time from us? We have lost so much time already.”

“This is our only chance. It’s our only lead and-“

“You said that before, Lyla.”

Oliver knew that his voice was sharp, sharper than it should be. He had agreed with Lyla’s decision to go to Beverly Tockman’s grave at the end. If it had been different, the team wouldn’t have gone there. They all knew that he was the one who had to make the ultimate decisions here because he was the one who would have to suffer through the loss if they lost this game.

Slowly, Oliver’s eyes turned towards Bruce. Although he wasn’t part of the Arrow Family and he wasn’t necessarily part of his closest friends, Oliver knew that Bruce was the one person he could trust to decide with Felicity’s wellbeing in mind first and foremost. Bruce loved Felicity just as much as Oliver did, and he wanted her back safe just as much as Oliver did.

Bruce let out a long breath, pursing his lips. He was used to making hard decisions because he was making decisions in the field every night of his life too. It was different when it was a loved one who might be paying the price though. His eyes told Oliver that he wasn’t used to making this kind of decisions.

“I know it’s dangerous,” Bruce said eventually, slowly and not entirely convinced, “but you and I together are more dangerous when Felicity’s life is on the line and-“

Bruce stopped when Oliver’s phone rang. Quickly, Oliver grabbed it, thinking to find the same suppressed number on his display that had tortured him for hours now. Instead, it was Dominic’s name blinking on the display.

“Dominic, I need to keep this line open for Tockman and-“

“Tockman won’t call you anymore,” Dominic said, his voice sounding tense.

Oliver felt his heart skipping a beat before it started racing in his chest. More bad news was coming. Oliver could hear it in Dominic’s voice already.

“What happened?”

The silence that followed probably didn’t last longer than two seconds. For Oliver, it felt like it was taking forever, but it was nothing compared to the endless moment of shock that followed Dominic’s answer.

“Tockman was just arrested.”

* * *

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[halothenthehorns]

TLTNL- THE HOGWARTS HIGH INQUISITOR

"Padfoot mate, you don't really think you think," he cut himself off and went cross eyed before trying again, "I mean that Harry is-" then he stopped again for the ludicrous statement couldn't even manage to pass his lips.

Sirius watched with some distant form of amusement as James struggled to find words, a concept in itself, as he ran his fingers hard through his hair and tried to find a way to answer. "What if I do? All those stories we've heard about what happens to those in Azkaban, what makes you think that didn't happen to me after twelve years? Turning into a dog could only have saved me so much-"

"Don't," James snapped, his eyes darkening by the second. "I can't stand thinking of you like that, it's never going to happen."

"It's already happening Prongs," Sirius whispered back. "What if we can't stop this, it's all supposed to happen in less than a year! People will start going missing, and then Dumbledore's going to come around and get you and Lily to go into hiding, and I'll do it again, I swear I will, I'll hunt down that rat bastard and-"

"Think what you're saying," James snapped, fighting hard not to knock him upside the head while he did. "Future tense mate, we'll find a way to stop this happening well before then, so stop acting like it's inevitable already. You're not going to turn into that, I refuse."

Sirius still couldn't seem to take his words to heart, gazing at a picture Lily had hung up on the wall of a forest that had branches swaying in the wind, an occasional critter flipping in and out of sight. It reminded him of the Forbidden Forest, where he'd had so many happy memories, and it scared him how tainted those already were, and kept reminding him it was only going to get worse. "It's my worst nightmare come to life, I don't know how but the universe did that to me. Made me go as mad as my folks, in a different way I'll grant but all the same, and then jailing me right back there."

  "It's not going to happen," James repeated, and would keep doing so until it sunk through his thick head.

They met eyes, Sirius almost absently saying, "you have always been around to remind me of that," and then quickly flipped subjects before even the notion of this no longer existing could linger, "honestly though, I thought you were going to bring me up here to rib me for talking to Harry like that."

James snorted and rolled his eyes, forcing himself to relax as he seemed to think he'd accomplished something. "I'd be remiss if you didn't tell Harry he wasn't having enough fun in his life. I still think you should show up at Hogsmeade and show those three what we used to get up to, Harry needs more fun in his life and he's clearly not getting it from his friends."

Sirius bit at his lip as he realized Harry wasn't getting that from him either, he'd been far too consumed with his own pity party, but at James' words, he was now at least holding out hope it would come true soon.

James watched as Sirius was already starting to fall back into wallowing, and he couldn't let that stand. Sirius was usually his inspiration to start all the madness they got up to, seeing him so low now truly was doing something to him he could hardly put into words, and he desperately hoped that the next time Sirius' name came up it would be in some form of his release back into a normal life already, he'd suffered long enough for it. For now he grasped his shoulder with a tight squeeze before actually managing his old laugh back and saying, "come on now, let's see what kind of mass destruction the school causes in rebellion against whatever that stupid comment of Percy's was. Dumbledore not in charge, pfft, Fudge couldn't do any such thing."

Sirius did at least smile as he followed him back for that, any talk of setting Umbridge in the area with the twins was bound to cause a laugh, which he was hoping to hear from soon. The methods she used on Harry weren't going to hold long.

Lily and Remus were still very concerned by whatever that reaction had been, but also knew James was the best, if not the only person Sirius would get help from with it and so were plenty satisfied to see him not visibly lingering on it when they came back.

Harry most of all wanted to persist on the subject, as he felt like he'd let Sirius down in some way, but when his godfather flopped down beside him with a normal smile in place Harry just couldn't bring himself to mess it all up again when his dad had clearly seemed to comfort him about it. So as James picked up the book and began, they were all feeling almost slightly hopeful again this was all going to somehow work out.

They'd expected to have to comb the paper to find this mysterious article, but instead it was right on the front page, with a very large shot of Umbridge accompanying it.

"Urgh, as if you don't get enough of that around the castle, now you've got closeups," James crinkled his nose in disgust.

The title read the woman's new position as High Inquisitor.

"Why do I already have a bad feeling about whatever the hell that made up title is?" Remus sighed.

"You've got good instincts," Harry's eyes were already narrowed with dislike.

Harry asked what that could mean, as Hermione began reading the article about the Ministry passing new legislation giving itself new levels of control inside Hogwarts.

James struggled to understand even the first sentence! What did that mean, the Ministry had control over their school?

Lily had her lips very tightly pursed as her mind flew through the ramifications of that. Hogwarts had always been of its own body and under the guide of the current Headmaster. This had allowed for a lot of free will inside the school outside of Ministry influence which many considered a good thing, as it left the children to grow up and form their own opinions of what they thought were right and wrong. Now their own government was more than actively stepping in as more than just a substitute teacher role? Just what the hell was Umbridge going to have these students doing? Aside from torturing them!

James looked to his friends like he was hoping for some kind of clarification from them, but both seemed just as confounded by the idea.

The Minister had been growing uneasy about the goings-on of the school for a while, says Junior Minister Percy Weasley.

"Did they have to post his title? I find that entirely unnecessary as of course his Junior would agree with him," Sirius scoffed.

"I just wish they hadn't said his last name, marks a bad light on all the Weasleys," Remus rolled his eyes for poor Arthur and his reaction to further seeing his son agreeing with all this.

Minister Fudge is now responding to the concerns from anxious parents who were concerned of the direction the school was moving in.

"Then they should talk to the Headmaster, and deal with this in house as it's always been," Lily stated absently, still trying to wrap her head around how this abrupt change had just sprung up overnight and it was entirely allowed.

This was not the first time Fudge had been seen influencing the school of late, as of the end of August he'd also enacted Educational Decree Number Twenty-two, giving the Ministry power to elect a teacher at the school should the Headmaster or mistress not find a candidate.

"Oh that's even better, they've been at this since the summer," James said in exasperation, already a spiel of comments he could imagine his parents saying if they'd heard about this.

Weasley continued speaking about how this was how Umbridge had begun her time there, and she was an immediate success-

"Let's put Percy in detention with her and see how long he holds that," Harry said grimly as he rubbed absently at the back of his hand.

"He'd have to be set up to be put in there, and even then I'll bet he could kiss her arse out of it," Sirius growled, perhaps even more darkly than he should have just for having to watch Harry do that.

Harry cut in there to protest the absurdity of that statement, but Hermione shushed him and kept reading about Percy saying she was revolutionizing the teaching of Defence Against the Dark Arts.

"By not teaching them! Yeah, I'd say that's revolutionary!" Remus balked at the absurdity.

The success of this function lead into current Educational Decree Number twenty-three, the creation of the High Inquisitor. A position that allowed the Ministry to evaluate the teachers on premises and make sure they were up to scratch to be teaching future youths. Professor Umbridge had delightfully accepted this role along with her teacher's position.

Lily had to swallow a bitter taint as she almost realized what a good idea that could have been coming from anyone else. Abysmal teachers like Lockhart and Snape wouldn't have been a problem then...but that's not what this job was really doing, and she knew it full well, so didn't bother speaking it.

These new transitions had received much support from parents who had children attending school.

"I do not believe that," James scoffed. "If my folks had heard the Ministry was weaseling around inside Hogwarts they'd have thrown a fit. They never have before and they're just suddenly doing it now after they've spent the summer campaigning what a mentally unstable person Dumbledore was? That doesn't seem the least bit suspicious it's all happening at the same time?"

Lucius Malfoy being quoted as saying his mind was much more at ease knowing Dumbledore was being put under evaluation.

"Ah, well at least that support suddenly made sense," Remus scowled.

The paper continues in saying this was something that should have long since been done considering the controversial appointments over the last few years, including half-giant Rubeus Hagrid, a delusional ex-Auror known as Alastor, Mady-Eye, Moody, and the werewolf Remus Lupin.

Remus suddenly felt such a sharp twist of fear in him he retched on the spot and felt lucky he didn't vomit. He'd never been afraid of attention before, unavoidable when you made friends with James and Sirius, but the fact that his name was actually being thrown out like that honestly made him question how he was even still alive. After all, the last werewolf that had ended up in the papers had a hole hunt formed around him-

Sirius gently cut off this train of thought by smacking Remus upside the head and saying, "knock it off Moony, if they haven't done anything to you before now they're not going to suddenly start just because the Ministry is pushing in. You're long gone, clearly not making a bid to come back, and Dumbledore's got you doing that shitty arse underground work that leaves you so far off the radar anyways it's a miracle if you'll even be reading this."

Remus almost found the comfort somewhere in there, at least his body stopped trying to throw up.

Harry was honestly curious enough to interrupt what this mysterious underground work was. He'd long since gathered it had something to do with Remus staying in contact with other werewolves, but he still longed for details he decided against asking even now because it was such a touchy subject for the poor guy.

Others were not as enthusiastic about these changes, two of the Wizengamot had quit in protest of this.

"While I applaud them," Lily nodded sadly, "but it's almost a backfire on them as well, for the same reason Tonks and Arthur haven't quit their post yet. They do more good holding their tongue and staying on the inside."

"That method ceases being useful when it's all you end up doing," James scowled, though at Harry for holding his tongue far too often.

One being quoted as saying that was a school, not the next outpost for Fudge, this was only further attempts to discredit Dumbledore.

Sirius gave a merry little applause for that bit at least, thankful that this had been put into the paper at all the way it was running lately.

The article ended then with the ominous comment how one of those who had quit had details of goblin subservice groups on a separate page. Hermione said at least now they had their reason of Umbridge being here, and now she could go and inspect all of their teachers? This was outrageous!

Harry agreed with his fist tightly clenched, the words etched into his hand already a dull white instead of having vanished.

James saw red as he realized four days had already been enough to put that mark into his skin. Years later and it was still there. None of them had the delusion this wasn't going to happen to Harry again, and he doubted he could read through it without screaming some more no matter how little good it would do.

But a grin was unfurling on Ron's face.

"I immediately like where his thoughts went," Sirius piped up at once as the same grin appeared, thinking of that foul toad trying to inspect someone like McGonagall and blissfully aware who was going to come up on top.

They asked what he found to smile about, and he said he couldn't wait for Umbridge to inspect McGonagall, the toad wouldn't know what hit her.

The others caught on as well, and now they were all grinning in anticipation of watching McGonagall have a thing or two to say to that pitiful excuse for a teacher.

Hermione stopped the conversation then by getting to her feet and reminding they had History of Magic. Harry was surprised when he didn't find Umbridge in there to inspect the lesson.

"What are the odds she won't be inspecting any of the ones Harry's in?" Remus said without a trace of hope.

"Non existent," James said without looking up.

Nor was she in potions, where Harry was given back his essay with a D for a grade.

"I find it an actual miracle he didn't just flat give you a T," Sirius rolled his eyes.

Once all the assignments had been handed back, Snape gave a speech at the front saying he'd graded these as if they had been OWL finals, and hoped to see better improvement over all, or he would start handing out detentions to the dunces that got d's.

Lily almost felt a twitch appear on her lips again at his alliterations, he'd always gotten a giggle out of her when he did this, but she forced herself not to react.

Malfoy snickered loudly that someone had gotten so low a grade.

"I'm guessing he gave you an O after you cheated off of someone else's," James rolled his eyes.

"Or paid another student to do it," Sirius agreed.

Harry saw Hermione looking sideways at his and he quickly stuffed it out of sight before she could see.

"Why bother?" Remus asked curiously.

"I can already hear the lecture she'd give about how I should have tried harder or some nonsense," Harry sighed.

Lily frowned at him for that, wishing he would try harder in this class even if he did hate the teacher, but at least holding herself back.

Determined not to give Snape a reason to ruin this attempt, Harry carefully studied every line of instructions today before brewing his potion. It was still a bit more runny and not quite the right shade of turquoise like Hermione's, but he handed it in with the satisfaction Snape couldn't say anything about it with mingled defiance and relief.

"I commend you, considering at some point I'd have just chucked the cauldron in his face," James snorted.

Hermione began babbling at once about OWL grades as they left for lunch, saying while she hadn't expected the top grade,

"I don't actually believe that," Remus snorted, "I can already imagine her near the end of this crying every five seconds if she doesn't get all O's."

even a pass at this stage was encouraging.

Neither boy responded, so she kept going on about how they now had time to improve, these grades were the baseline for their future-

"Is she going to keep going with this?" James groaned as he eyed the pages with misery. He'd been starting this thinking of more Umbridge carnage, but instead he'd been suffering through some OWL memories he'd have rather forgotten.

Ron finally cut her off if she wanted to know their grades, she should just ask them.

Hermione feigned surprise at the question, but finally did ask.

Ron said he'd got a P, while Fred popped up then to say there was nothing wrong with a good healthy P.

"Err, doesn't P mean-"

"Poor, yeah," Sirius said with chipper, "only one letter off from acceptable, so really they're not wrong."

Hermione was surprised at this statement, as P stood for Poor?

Lee agreed, then said at least it was better than D for Dreadful.

"I always thought it stood for Dunderhead," James grinned.

"Stop naming things after yourself James," Remus quipped.

Harry did not enter the conversation, but Hermione was still in full swing.

"This is most likely going to be an ongoing topic until next year, when she'll move onto complaining about her NEWT grades two years too early," Sirius groaned.

Hermione kept going saying the passing grades were O for outstanding, then A-

Though Fred corrected her E came next,

James gasped wildly, and then frantically prodded the page with his wand as if insisting to find a flaw.

"What do you mean Hermione doesn't know all these by heart?" Sirius agreed mildly. "The way she was obsessing over them, even having done some pre exams last year, you'd really think she'd know that."

"I'm actually quite sure she only took note of what the top grade was and didn't care about the others," Remus rolled his eyes.

for Exceeds Expectations. Personally he thought he and his twin should have gotten E's on everything, considering they exceeded expectations just by showing up.

Causing all five of them to giggle.

They all laughed except Hermione,

"Why is that a recurring thing, it always makes me sad," Lily sighed.

"Someone needs to tell her she's getting a T for her sense of humor, see if she lightens up any then," James agreed.

who ignored him and agreed then it was A for acceptable, and that was the last passing grade.

Ron mock celebrated then you could get a P, then D, while George finished with T, for troll.

Harry laughed unexpectedly, then looked around and realized that while they were smiling, he realized it was at his reaction, and he blinked in shock.

Harry laughed again, though he was not sure whether or not George was joking.

"Nope," Sirius grinned, "though I don't understand why they'd want to give you a letter grade that would make someone think, well that's better than B for Blast-Ended Skrewt."

"You're an idiot," Remus rolled his eyes.

He imagined end of year and getting T's on all his grades, and immediately resolved to do better on his work.

"Whatever gets you through it love," Lily grinned as the thought had never crossed her mind Harry would do any such thing. Even while being at his breaking point he'd still been putting effort into his homework, there was just no way he'd do so poorly on all his exams if he just tried a little harder.

Fred asked if they'd had an inspected lesson yet, because they just had in Charms.

George agreed she'd just sat in the back of the class making notes the whole time, and Flitwick was perfectly polite to her of course. Then near the end she went around asking them some questions on the subject.

Fred asked who they had for their afternoon classes and when Harry started with Trelawney, Fred agreed a T if ever there was one.

Causing them all to snort with laughter as they suddenly imagined the wonderful idea of if the twins had taken her class and the mayhem that could have been.

Then Umbridge herself.

George warned Harry about minding his manners then, because Angelina would do him in if he missed any more Quidditch practice.

"Because that's the important part," James said grimly as his eyes flashed protectively to his son again, wondering if it was possible Umbridge's detentions could somehow get worse if she realized Harry wasn't going to take her message.

Harry didn't have to wait for his last class to see Umbridge again though. As they were taking their seats inside Divination, a sudden hush went over the room as Umbridge entered, causing Trelawney to look around as Umbridge greeted her.

Lily felt an interesting struggle taking place in her mind. She'd disliked Trelawney from the instant she'd been introduced because of insisting her son was to die, which would set any mother on edge. Yet she hated Umbridge quantifiably worse for actually hurting her baby. She wasn't really sure what she wanted to see happen here, but she wouldn't deny she was listening just as curiously as the others.

She began by asking if she'd received the note Umbridge had sent about the date and time of this inspection?

Trelawney went stiff, nodded without response, and then spoke to the class as if she wasn't there that they would continue looking through their dreams.

"Can't deny I'm already intrigued," Remus said grudgingly. "Trelawney shouldn't have had much to do with her before now considering how rarely she leaves her own tower, which means her ire with this woman must come from something we haven't seen yet."

"Maybe just from students like Parvati and Lavender who might have talked about her," Sirius offered without much thought, but immediately corrected himself when he realized, "but they haven't exactly gone out of their way disliking Umbridge themselves yet either."

"I'm sure it's just the insult of her class being inspected," James snorted.

They divided into pairs and Trelawney went to take her seat, realized Umbridge was standing right behind it, and instead began circling the class.

Harry quickly made up a dream on the spot about how he'd drowned Snape in his cauldron.

"They say dreams are where you live out your fantasies," Sirius snickered.

Ron snickered as he went to work on this, saying you were supposed to add age to the date of the dream, plus the number of letters in the subject, before asking if that was drowning, cauldron, or Snape?

"Drowning, isn't it? The other two are nouns," Remus said absently.

"Nouns can be the subject," Lily shrugged, "it depends on verb usage and-"*

"Please, this is why I was grateful Hogwarts never subjected us to Muggle classes, don't start on things I don't care about," Sirius groaned.

Harry couldn't care less about the answer as Ron went to work while Harry eavesdropped on Umbridge catching up to Trelawney and beginning to ask her some questions, such as how long she'd been in this position?

Trelawney regarded her for a moment before deeming the question worthy of the answer sixteen years.

Harry felt a sudden whack at the base of his skull for some unknown reason, absently reaching up and brushing at the back of his head as if to make sure it was still attached but ultimately ignoring the sensation.

Then Umbridge asked that Dumbledore had appointed her himself?

Though it was getting harder by the moment as Umbridge's questions really were starting to dig something out of the base of his skull that was beginning to build up quite a bit of pressure...

Trelawney kept up her curt replies as Umbridge then asked that she was the great-great-granddaughter of the renowned Seer Cassandra Trelawney?

Remus felt an odd smile flicker across his face as some old Greek myth came to mind about the Seer Cassandra who nobody believed truly was one, but he didn't point this out to the others for once as he was more invested hearing about this.

But she was the first in her family line to have inherited the gift of Second Sight?

Trelawney had to hesitate for a moment before saying these things tended to skip, err, three generations.

"Was the pause because she had to think about it and count that on the spot?" James mocked.

Umbridge was clearly not impressed as she made a few notes of this, and then looked on and asked for a prediction to be made.

Trelawney was outraged at once, saying the Inner Eye did not See upon command!

James was almost amused by this, as normally Trelawney spat out so many predictions in a lesson you couldn't shut the woman up. Now Umbridge was asking for one, and that was offensive?

Umbridge shrugged with indifference as she went to make a note of this, but then Trelawney wildly switched to grasping at the pink cardigan, apparently overcome with the fear of what she was seeing, a dark peril looming...

"I think she made herself worse by doing that," Sirius sighed. "Should have just stuck with the first thing she said, then later and a lot more randomly spouted something at least generally more threatening than that generic mess."

Dolores Umbridge was in grave danger!

Umbridge raised an unimpressed brow and ticked off something before saying that would be all.

Lily actually had to catch herself to stop from laughing. Even knowing Trelawney was a true Seer still didn't make this waffle intimidating in the least, but she despised Umbridge too much to agree with her on any level so she held it in.

She turned away and began asking some students questions, while Trelawney stalked over to Harry and snatched his dream diary away, proclaiming in a carrying voice for all to hear that even his most mundane dreams were filled with fortunes of his death.

"Yeah, there it is," James said tartly, least she could always fall back on that one, though how she managed to make that less believable every time was an actual achievement on some level.

Harry was having a hard time feeling sympathy for her during this, and when they were finally released and entered Umbridge's own class, the woman was humming.

"Urgh, having to listening to croaking all lesson, I'd rather live with a cicada," Sirius rubbed at his ears in thought.

They took their seats in the back and pulled out their books, while the teacher instructed those hopeful few who'd left their wands out not to do this very thing.

"I'm not sure if that's ignorance or delusions," Remus sighed.

They were to begin chapter two now.

Still smiling to herself, she set about some papers on her desk. Harry began flipping mindlessly through until the thought occurred to him if there were enough chapters to keep this going all year, and he was just flipping to check on that when he noticed Hermione's hand raised again.

"So were there?" Lily asked.

"Don't know, never checked," Harry shrugged.

"Even if there weren't, I'm honestly wondering if she'd have just made you reread it from the start or something," Remus rolled his eyes.

Umbridge took a different approach this time and approached her instead, bending down on her level as Hermione told she'd already read chapter two.

When Umbridge told her to go on to the next one then, Hermione stated she'd read the whole book.

"Man I wish I was more surprised, actually I'm just sad for the wasted time," James sighed.

Umbridge looked mildly surprised as she then asked Hermione what the author had said about counter-jinxes in chapter fifteen then?

Hermione gave the accurate answer at once, and Harry saw Umbridge was impressed against her will.

"People get that a lot around her it seems," Sirius mused, he didn't always like Hermione either, but she never failed to impress him with her knowledge at least.

Hermione kept going though, that she did not agree with Mr. Slinkhards interpretation of counter-jinxes and his statement they were only used as another form of jinx-

Umbridge cut her off this wasn't up for discussion.

"That was already established," Lily cocked her head to the side as she tried to understand, "what was the goal of her doing this?"

James shushed her and read quickly to find out, if anyone could find a way to push Umbridge's buttons and make something interesting happen in that class, he'd bet on Hermione.

Hermione tried to say something else, but Umbridge cut her off by taking five points from their house, while Harry demanded what for? Ignoring Hermione's warning for him not to get involved.

"She is sitting right next to you when she started this," Remus rolled his eyes, "don't tell me she really thinks you'd stay out of it."

Umbridge gave the answer for disrupting class pointlessly.

"She simply asked a question of what she was supposed to do now she's done with the work," Sirius tried for an innocent tone, ineffective as he wasn't likely to receive an answer for that anymore than Hermione.

She was going to teach them a Ministry-approved method that did not include inviting students to give opinions on things they didn't understand.

"Every bit of that was the most ludicrous thing I've yet heard her say," Remus said faintly.

"I particularly like the part they're not supposed to have opinions on what's being 'taught'," Sirius sneered.

"She read the whole book, how can she still try to make that claim!" Lily demanded.

"I'm beginning to wonder if there's something conceded about her," James said deadpan.

Their previous teachers, with the exception of Quirrell, would never have passed an inspection-

Harry cut off Quirrell had been great, except the fact that he'd had Voldemort's head sticking out of the back of his own.

"I'm actually wondering how many of the students knew that at the end of the year anyways," Remus suddenly blinked in surprise.

"Not the point," Harry grumbled.

Umbridge hardly acknowledge what he'd said except to give him another week of detentions.

Lily made a guttural, maddening noise of frustration for Harry suffering through that all over again, and she vented on the only person available. "Harry James, stop antagonizing her! It's clearly done you no good, after multiple people have warned you to stop, and you are suffering more consequences than doing any good!"

Harry flushed with anger for a moment, considered snapping back he was doing more good than anyone else was even bothering to try, but then considered the fact that snapping at her would achieve nothing. His mother was simply angry with the situation and he did not want to start yelling at them like he had been his friends in the past, so he simply held his tongue and nodded absently, also failing to mention whatever he did he couldn't go back and stop himself from doing it here now could he.

The first consequences of this came up at dinner that night, where Fred's prediction came true at once and Angelina caused such a racket with her yelling at him over having to miss another practice that McGonagall swopped in and interceded, taking points away at once for all the noise in the middle of the Great Hall. Several Ravenclaws at the table behind were still watching the show.**

Angelina wasn't deterred, saying he deserved it for another detention ruining her regime.

McGonagall turned sharp eyes on Potter, demanding who this detention was from, and very clearly displeased at the answer as she took another five points away.

"Who takes away house points after you find out someone has detention?" James demanded in outrage. "What's McGonagall playing at, he's already suffering enough for this!"

"I guess she did warn him not to continue messing with her," Remus sighed, "this is her way of punishing him for disobeying her as well."

"That did not make this feel better," Sirius scowled.

Harry tried to protest he was already being punished enough, but McGonagall wouldn't hear it, claiming detentions didn't seem to work on him so maybe this would.

"The worst part is she doesn't even know what's going on in those detentions," Lily groaned miserably, just begging for the sharp eyed woman to spot Harry's hand and raise hell for it any day now.

She warned them both to confine the shouting to the pitch before departing.

"I do love how she says confine shouting at Harry, not stop it," Sirius muttered.

Harry slammed into his seat beside Ron in a fuming mess as he demanded how it was fair he was getting his hand sliced open and losing points?!

"Maybe she wouldn't if she knew that part," James seethed.

Ron was sympathetic for him, saying she was out of order with that one.

"Are we really the only ones insisting on how dumb it is you haven't mentioned this," Lily demanded. "What about Hermione?"

"Still haven't told her yet either," Harry muttered as he shifted uneasily in his seat, still wishing this would stop being mentioned all together.

Hermione, however, merely rustled the pages of her Daily Prophet and said nothing.

"So she does know?" Remus yelped at this glossed over development.

"I guess Ron did tell her at some point," Harry blinked in surprise, he'd been too angry to realize what he was saying to whom at the time. "Honestly I'm just happy she didn't give me another go to Dumbledore speech, so I'm grateful I wasn't around when she did find out."

Nobody agreed with him, though clearly repetition wasn't doing any good regardless.

Harry snapped at her that he thought their head of house was in the right then?

Hermione answered cooly that she wished Harry wouldn't get points taken away, but she also wished he'd stop losing his temper around Umbridge.

"Hermione was the one who started the last two fights!" Sirius couldn't help but defend. "Harry more than likely would have sat in the back of the class and not said a word if it wasn't for her."

"You can't blame Harry's action on what Hermione decides to do," Lily scolded.

"Doesn't help one of his mates isn't trying to fix this problem either," Remus shrugged.

Harry did not speak to Hermione all through their next class, but all memory of the fight evaporated when he walked into Transfiguration and first spotted Umbridge instead of McGonagall.

James actually began wriggling in place in sudden excitement. If he'd put money on anyone giving that toad a run for her galleons it would be McGonagall, there was no way she could push her around like she just had to Trelawney.

The three watched almost eagerly as class began, McGonagall acting as if the extra woman wasn't even there as she instructed Dean to pass out homework, and Lavender to start handing out mice, and warning that vertebrate animals were much harder to-

Harry was distracted as he got his work back and saw he'd made an A.

"And that was with the minimal effort," James applauded, while Lily rolled her eyes at him even if she did agree.

Dean took his seat and mouse and was at once scolded for doing something to it that would wind him up in detention-

"What'd he do?" James demanded on the same breath as he'd finished.

"He was trying to place it on Parvati's shoulder," Harry shrugged.

"Less inventive than I was hoping," Remus sighed.

While Umbridge used the same, hem, hem, cough to try and get attention.

McGonagall turned cold eyes on her as Umbridge began that McGonagall had received the date and time of her inspec-

McGonagall coolly cut across of course she had, otherwise she'd be wondering why the woman was here.

James made a little squee noise when he was done with that response while Sirius was already full blown laughing, he knew McGonagall was his favorite teacher for a reason!

Harry and Remus shared a triumphant smile while Lily said impatiently, "James if you don't keep going, I will," though her eyes were sparkling with their own amusement for their old head of house.

James clutched the book to him protectively as he kept going with glee.

Then she kept going as if nothing had happened, even though Umbridge did the same act again not moments later.

McGonagall didn't even face her this time as she said sharply how Umbridge expected to get an idea of her teaching methods if she kept being interrupted, as she did not permit others to talk while she was.

James couldn't do it though, he immediately burst out laughing again, and this time Lily couldn't deny joining in. This was hardly the fiery pit they wanted to toss Umbridge into for what she'd done to Harry, but even seeing someone hold their own against her in this way was the most satisfying thing that had happened so far!

Umbridge looked as if she'd been slapped, before hastily turning to a fresh page and scribbling furiously.

"I would pay anything to get my hands on those notes," Sirius' grin was slipping past amusement right into evil. "See just what her version of, I need a burn healing charm looks like."

Looking supremely unconcerned, Professor McGonagall addressed the class once more.

Harry wasn't paying much attention to her warnings of the complexity of the larger the animal the harder it was to vanish, he was to busy whispering to his friends how she could get onto him about losing his temper when she wasn't acting much better. There was no anger though, as he grinned at McGonagall, all anger forgotten.

"Technically McGonagall hasn't gained a detention yet, so she's still doing better than you," Sirius smirked even as he was leaning forward eagerly to hear more of this.

At the end of the lesson, Ron was putting away only a wriggling tail,

"It is indeed a good mark he's already got the larger portion of the body by the end of the first day," James agreed absently, his eyes still eagerly hoping for more between Umbridge and McGonagall.

as they began to file out, but hung back when they realized Umbridge was going up to talk to McGonagall. She asked only one question, of how long she'd been at this post?

McGonagall said thirty-nine years in December.

Umbridge jotted this down before saying she'd receive her results in ten days.

McGonagall gave the curt reply of how she couldn't wait as she swept away.

"She really shouldn't act so thrilled, sets a bad impression," Remus snorted.

She barked at the three lingering at the door to get a move on, but Harry swore she smiled as she passed.

"Favorite teacher," James repeated warmly, hoping that would leave some kind of impact on Harry in Umbridge's next class. He wasn't the only one defying Umbridge.

Harry sadly turned up at his next class only to find Umbridge there again, already talking to Grubbly-Plank. She was being asked that this was not her standard position, to which the sub agreed she was only standing in for Professor Hagrid.

"I don't think anyone's yet called him that," Sirius' face crinkled as that registered.

"Does sound kind of weird, even if it is appropriate," Remus agreed.

Harry's spirits sunk as he watched Malfoy approaching as well, knowing he'd love nothing more than to gossip about Hagrid strait to the Ministry.

"He's already been doing that, surely he can't do even worse damage," Lily said with unease even she didn't believe.

Umbridge then asked if Grubbly-Plank knew anything of Hagrid's absence, but the woman was bare on the subject, saying she'd simply been asked to fill in for an unspecified time, she'd agreed, and here they were.

Umbridge waved for her to start the class then, and they continued their work on bowtruckles as Umbridge went around the class and began asking students about magical creatures, to which no one gave a flawed answer. Harry at least felt hopeful none of them were letting Hagrid down.

Remus couldn't help but wince for that, thinking that was far more likely luck depending on the questions she was asking.

Then Umbridge circled back to Grubbly-Plank, asking how a new staff member felt here? Supported, or more ostracized from the everyday crowd.

Grubbly-Plank gave the simple answer she'd always felt welcomed here, never had a problem.

Umbridge looked politely incredulous,

"That she's the only one being treated like scum? Can't imagine why that would be," Sirius snorted.

"I'm sure that's a look," James snorted, his liking for Grubbly-Plank going up somewhat. Sure she was having to stand in for Hagrid, but at least she wasn't going behind his back and trying to rub up to Umbridge, he could respect that.

She then switched to asking of reports she had from injuries in this class, but Malfoy enthusiastically stepped in then, saying that was done to him, he was attacked by a hippogriff.

"At his own stupidity," James emphasized. "Everyone seems to skip that bit!"

Umbridge began almost happily jotting this down, while Harry shouted over at them it was because Malfoy was being too stupid to listen to Hagrid before it happened.

"Oh, thank you Harry," James groaned, that hadn't been what he meant at all.

Harry shrugged without remorse.

Umbridge turned a pleased smile on him as she gave him another week of detentions.

"What was that one even for?" Lily all but screeched. "Doesn't she still have to give a reason!"

Baby Harry began squirming in unease underneath his toy so she forced herself not to keep going while James pushed on, mostly because the answer was no, that woman didn't have to give a reason to anyone about anything she did. It was becoming quite clear that was the scariest part of all to look forward to.

That evening, despite the late hour, Harry did not return to the common room empty this time, but found Ron and Hermione waiting up for him. Hermione seemed anxious at his visage as she pushed a yellow bowl towards him, telling him it was essence of murtlap and it would help.

Harry wasn't quite sure what that was, but when he put his hand, that was bleeding freely, into it it soothed the pain at once.

Ron still tried to push Harry should tell someone about this, McGonagall would do something, but Harry still wouldn't hear it, pointing out next thing they knew there'd be a decree that the person who questioned Umbridge would get fired.

"That would still cause enough of a stir in the community for it to be relevant and absolutely worth it," James tried to keep his voice even as he explained to Harry. "McGonagall's tough as they come, even if she did have to leave for a time she'd be right back the next day because Dumbledore would never let that stand, and he'd have support from those realizing how ludicrous this all is getting."

"Please tell me you've been seeing reports in the Daily Prophet about more people saying what a problem this is," Lily agreed.

Harry just shrugged though, Hermione only passed along very certain things, and she hadn't said anything about this. If the wider wizarding world did care about what was going on, he wasn't hearing about it.

Ron tried to think of some way to argue, but then closed his mouth back.

Hermione hissed what an awful woman she was, they really should do something about her.

"Tie her to the Whomping Willow?" Sirius suggested at once.

"Transfigure her into a cat and introduce her to Fang?" James smirked.

"Introduce her to the mermaids of the Black Lake," Remus said just a touch bitterly.

"See how long she could survive in the Forbidden Forest," Harry envisioned the fun.

"Poison?" Lily couldn't seem to stop herself tacking in much to all the boys amusement.

Ron had suggested poison,

"Ha!" Lily pumped a fist in triumph, "two against you lot!"

"That's fair," Sirius miraculously gave in.

"Can it at least be a slow acting one?" James contended.

"I can work that," Lily agreed.

but Hermione said she'd meant something more practical about her horrid teaching habits, how they weren't learning any Defence this year.

"Well I mean, she's not wrong," Remus snorted.

"Yet I don't really see how that's so different from your first two years either," Sirius sighed.

Ron couldn't see a way around this, she had the job and that clearly wasn't changing any time soon.

"At least until the end of the year," Lily still looked for that bright spot.

Hermione shot Harry a nervous look before beginning to tell what she was thinking today,

"Should I be worried that's how this is starting?" James looked bemused as he kept going.

that they should just learn DADA themselves.

"That's really not that far fetched an idea," Remus shrugged, "we had to do it a few years as well. Our teachers never got to the level of trying to kill us mind you, but they weren't all stellar either."

"I don't know, remember Novak? Considering how many spells he used backfired on himself, I think at some point that counts as attempted murder when he still encouraged us to trust him," Lily shrugged.

Ron scoffed at the idea of doing more extra homework, they were already behind as is.

Hermione said this was more important than homework.

"Hang on," Sirius mimed cleaning out his ears, "alright read that bit again."

James ignored him.

The boys goggled at her saying such blasphemy, Ron insisting she'd always said homework was the most important thing in the universe!

Hermione brushed them off for being silly,

"She had yet to say otherwise," Harry rubbed at his ear at all her remembered lectures.

stating this was about learning to defend themselves from what was out there.

Harry looked honestly bemused Hermione had taken his words to heart like that, no matter how much he still vouched for them being true.

Ron still wasn't on the idea, saying sure they could look up jinxes and practice them, but-

"Just like you did at the end of last year," James agreed, "that seemed to help you out loads, even with a competent if murderous teacher."

but Hermione said it would be all the better if they had a teacher, someone who already knew a boat load of spells and could correct them if they were doing it wrong.

Harry began if she was talking about Lupin,

"Naw, you're the first teacher he thought of Moony," Sirius chuckled.

"Shut up Padfoot," Remus said around a smile.

but Hermione at once said that wouldn't work, he couldn't come around often enough to be of help.

"Not with that Umbridge woman about anyways," Lily said grimly, as it had honestly been a good idea for a moment for Dumbledore to summon him to the castle at his random choosing, and just incidentally running into Harry and his friends, for a few hours, no one in the school would really question that too much if it had worked out that way. That pink frosted lump of dragon dung though would put a wrench into anything like that.

Harry couldn't imagine who else she was talking about, but then she said him of course.

Harry looked at his dad in bewilderment, before looking at the other three who all looked just as surprised at the answer as him to his relief.

"Honestly, for a moment there I thought she was leading up to herself," James snorted.

"I mean, I suppose she's not got the wrong idea," Lily pulled gently on a strand of hair as she thought about it, "but no offense love, I haven't really seen you with the patience yet to be teaching anyone much."

"Ron was better at teaching you chess than you were explaining how a phone worked," Sirius snorted in agreement.

"Oh stop picking on him," Remus scolded, though Harry hardly looked offended, he still had a politely puzzled expression on his face like he was still nursing the idea and had hardly heard them. "I don't find it a bad idea at all, Harry was the only thirteen year old I've ever seen to manage a Patronus, even you two hadn't managed that until fifth year to find out what you were going to turn into only a few months later. If Harry could master that, I'm sure passing that knowledge along wouldn't be much of a challenge."

"There's a difference between being a good student and being as good a teacher," Sirius shrugged, but he backed down altogether as Harry was starting to look a little hurt they were still giggling more than anything at the idea.

James kept himself going in hopes Hermione would come to some conclusion this should be more a group effort between the three than Harry starting secret lessons to teach these two anything.

Harry was stunned at the idea, turning to Ron for some backup, but he seemed just as keen on this as Hermione now she'd pointed it out.

Harry began laughing it off, saying what good would he do, while Hermione said in exasperation to think of all he'd done.

"Really Harry, you apparently spent all summer complaining about this bit, but you need this part explained," James rolled his eyes.

When Harry still didn't get their meaning, Ron started to laugh he didn't want someone this stupid teaching him, before beginning loudly of all his accomplishments, like second year killing the Basilisk and Riddle.

Harry tried to interrupt that had been Fawkes and-

"I really am loving the reverse of this conversation," Sirius gave a forced smile. "How are you the one saying you shouldn't get credit for doing this now, when it was you shouting at them you did all this single handedly to them at that house?"

Harry was scarlet by now, both from remembered shock of his friends throwing this at him, and how true that comment was that put on the spot he still didn't want to admit all the things he'd done no matter how angry he'd been he'd felt ignored.

"Can't have it both ways," Lily told him gently as she seemed to read his mind.

Ron completely ignored him and was still going on, coming up with fourth year and everything he'd done there as well, he and Hermione were smirking by the end as Harry felt his temper rising, he wasn't even sure where the anger was coming from.

"Actually neither am I," James frowned lightly from the book to Harry now. "At most they're still pulling your leg, what's the anger for?"

Harry brushed at his scar without comment, a deep look in his eyes that shot a thrill of fear through James instantly promising him he actually didn't want to know the answer, so he quickly moved on.

He began telling them how he'd blundered through all that, not because he was any good at Defence, he'd always had help and- stop laughing at him!

Remus let out a low whistle of surprise as he told Harry, "when you get angry, you really ramp yourself right to the top at once."

"Harry doesn't do anything halfway," Sirius said halfheartedly, Harry leaning back into the couch looking miserable he'd been caught shouting at them again, and they hadn't done anything even remotely close to deserving it this time.

He lunged to his feet so fast he knocked the essence of murtlap away, now practically shouting at them they didn't understand, none of that had been skill when he'd fought Voldemort, that Cedric had been just as good as him and he'd died so if they were insinuating he'd messed up and Harry had somehow done something better-

James had winced at every blow Harry dealt his friends, of all the pain and fear his son had suffered without anyone there to help, how even hearing it first hand hadn't quite left them with the reality Harry had lived through. To them it was all in a distant future, something they hoped never had to happen to him and so without underplaying the events happening they kept pushing past these terrible moments because it would ultimately help him to remember them just to find a way he'd never have to live through them. Most of all, James wanted more than anything for Harry never to have to witness what had happened in that graveyard, to Cedric.

Ron looked aghast Harry had come to the conclusion they were having a go at Cedric.

Harry was aware, and very grateful no one had snapped at him for this in here. He distantly saw himself doing these things, pushed into this uncontrollable anger from something he didn't understand, but one truth stood out his friends would never insinuate any such thing, so he was grateful for the silence ringing in here.

Hermione was near tears now as she insisted this was exactly the reason they needed to learn, he was the only one who had ever faced V-Voldemort.

"Well there's a distraction if ever there was one," Sirius blinked slowly to refocus off of Harry's anger, how everything he'd said had been all too real.

It was the first time Hermione had ever said Voldemort's name, and for some reason this calmed Harry. He sat back in his seat, his hand now throbbing worse than ever and gazed at the broken glass and essence of Murtlap now seeping into the carpet.

Hermione got her feet as if to go to bed, quietly asking him to just think about it.

Lily opened her mouth, wanting to say something in comfort as well as push for a change of subject, but Harry was still looking miserable and rubbing hard at his scar again, so she was afraid to push him while he was too vulnerable.

Harry nodded silent agreement now as she went off to bed, Ron following suit. Harry repaired the bowl with a quick spell, but could do nothing for more medicine for his hand.

"Wonder how she got hold of that," Sirius happily shot off, as always just looking for something to say in the awkward silence.

"She's too proud asking the house-elves for a batch," Remus played along, "I more imagine she might have asked Madam Pomfrey for some, given a vague reason as to why she wanted it."

"I'll buy that," Sirius said, looking hopefully at Harry like he was hoping for confirmation, but even if he had ever bothered to ask Harry spoke nothing for or against the idea.

He was more exhausted now than when he'd stepped in, but still he forced himself to climb up the stairs rather than sleeping in the common room, and had another restless night of dreams full of locked corridors, and waking to his scar prickling again.

Harry twitched harder than ever in his seat, his eyes swimming with pain as he yearned to understand how it all fit together, and terrified of learning the answer.

HPHPHPHPHP

I probably came off pretty anti-government in this chapter, and I swear I'm not actually trying to whip up a rebellion and start an anarchy, I just always found it really extreme that clearly since it's conception Hogwarts seemed to have stood as it's own body, but suddenly the government was stepping in and causing a ton of reforms, and the public seems generally okay with this? Of course the Daily Prophet likely didn't post more outrage than a couple people quitting, I don't even know how it would have been put into the narrative, I'd just have liked to see more people be confused and angry about this sudden regime change going on inside the most popular wizarding school in Britain.

*I was actually never very good at English, I have no clue what the actual answer was, thank you for nothing four years of high school.

**I pointed this out in the last book, but this is now a blatant mismatch of the house tables. Last time it was the Hufflepuffs on their other side as Harry had to walk past them, this time it's Ravenclaws? Someone must have been right in saying it does switch up on a regular basis.

[rulesofthebeneath]

Hey guys!! 

Here’s the new thing I’ve been writing! I hope y’all enjoy lmao this started as a dumb idea but now I’ve been really emotionally invested in it. I’m gonna try to post about twice a week. Let me know what you think, please!!! Tags: @abunchofbadchoices, @mrsbhandari, @lilmissperfectlyimperfect 

The first time he’d ever told anyone, it was his first boyfriend, and he was met with a sarcastic snort.

“Come on, ‘Jay. That’s just what gay guys say when they’re scared to come out all the way. You can’t be both gay and straight, you have to choose.”

He was fourteen, and had no idea what to make of any of his feelings, much less the weird ones that made his heart beat faster and made butterflies storm his stomach. So he accepted that, and listened to Jake, who was older and wiser than him.

“Are you sure?” he’d asked.

“Yeah. Wait, ‘Jay, do you not like me anymore?”

“What? Of course I do.”

“Oh, good. I was scared you were trying to break up. But I don’t know why you’d say something as crazy as that. You know you can always talk to me, okay?”

Ajay nodded, but deep inside he sincerely doubted that. In retrospect, it was the first of several red flags that had led to a less-than-happy ending for him and Jake.

The next people he told were his parents. As far as Indian parents went, they were pretty open-minded, and hadn’t really cared about him liking guys. He’d even been able to bring home boyfriends or school dance dates without making too many waves with his parents. They didn’t really understand why he couldn’t just date a nice girl, but they loved him anyways, and he knew he was lucky.

But when he’d said he liked both guys and girls, he was met with polite parental confusion.

“What? But you only go out with boys, putra,” his mom had said. “You’ve never brought a girl home. How do you know you like both, hm?”

It was an excellent point. Ajay couldn’t explain how he knew he liked girls, just like he couldn’t explain why he liked guys. But he just did.

His father shook his head. “No, no, no. You’ll have to choose someday. You don’t have to hide yourself and pretend you like girls just to make us happy. You know we love you.”

Ajay hadn’t even known how to respond to that one, so he’d just nodded and excused himself from dinner. He’d never brought it up again.

He’d posted anonymously on a forum for gay youth that he’d found, but hadn’t recieved much other than “that’s not real”, “you can’t like both”, “you have to choose”, “so you’re a cheater?” and “you’re just saying that because you’re scared of committing to life as a gay guy”.

It wasn’t long before he’d just logged out completely, questioning himself. Did he just think he was attracted to girls because he felt like he had to be? Because society said guys were supposed to like girls? Was it true that he was scared of being gay, because of all the homophobia he’d have to face? Especially as a second-generation Indian, he was expected to life the perfect heterosexual American lifestyle, getting a good job and having two or three kids and making his family back in India proud of their success story. Even though his parents knew he was gay and didn’t care, nobody else in his family knew. He hated to think what they’d say about him if they did. They already talked smack about Ajay’s only openly gay cousin, Aditya, and Ajay knew he was basically dead to the family.

So was he just pretending he liked girls to escape the full ramifications of being gay? It was possible, he thought, but probably not. He’d never had a girlfriend or even been on a date with a girl, but that was due to an unfortunate outing incident orchestrated by his ex (another of those red flags he’d ignored).

Despite the fact that he was outed, though, he’d found a group of friends who had thoroughly supported him. Rory, in all of their genderfluid nonbinary aro/ace glory, Clint and Natalie whose sexualities seemed to be oriented towards whichever gender Rory presented as on a given day, Skye who was a goth sapphic icon, James who was the token straight ally, Trevor who was so deep in the closet that Ajay doubted he’d come out this century, then two mysteries.

One was Erin, Ajay’s longtime best friend. He knew she liked guys, but he didn’t know if she only liked guys or if she liked other genders too. He wasn’t about to ask, though, because asking her would lead to her asking him, and he wasn’t quite prepared for that.

The other was Grace, James’ twin sister. As far as James was known as a heartbreaker, Grace didn’t appear to have dated anybody. Or at least, she didn’t talk about it and neither James nor Rory, who’d known her since childhood, said anything about it either. And again, he wasn’t about to ask because of the possibility of the awkward return question.

All his friends would pick on him, good-naturedly, about just how gay he was– how he always dressed sharp, his hair was always neatly combed and occasionally slicked back with gel, how he liked theatre way more than a straight guy could ever, the fact that he couldn’t do math, how his best friend was a girl, his taste for iced lattes, his distaste for anything athletic. Erin had even caught him doing a facemask one morning, and had teased the living hell out of him for it. Ajay didn’t see the big deal– he just wanted to keep his skin clear– but was willing to accept that basic hygiene and skincare were not something that straight men typically did.

It was all in good fun, and Ajay knew that, and he would even laugh along with his friends when they pointed that stuff out. It was funny, he could admit that. And he was gay— that was the only part of his sexuality that was easy for him to admit. He’d found comfort in that label, even though it wasn’t the full story.

In all honesty, he was scared to be openly bisexual. Coming out as gay to his parents after being forcibly outed at school was the hardest thing he’d ever had to do, and he couldn’t imagine doing it again. And how would he explain that he liked both guys and girls? He’d seen what they said on TV and in the movies, even in some books. Bisexuals are promiscuous, bisexuals are cheaters, all bisexuals choose to be either gay or straight eventually. It’s just a phase.

In previous years, in weaker moments, he’d wished he could just be gay. After a particularly disastrous encounter with a girl named Kelly and his very unfortunate crush on her, he’d cursed himself for liking girls when everyone knew he was gay. He tried to convince himself to be gay, to just only like guys, but it never took.

It never took, and it was one of the reasons he resented Rory, who was unapologetically themself. Rory didn’t care what people said, and either way they weren’t interested in dating. Rory had it good, anyways. They had parents who loved them, accepted them unconditionally, and had even thrown them a coming out party. They were just a far braver person than Ajay was, and Ajay wished he could have their accepting family and their confidence and just be who he was.

Ajay sat down heavily at the lunch table, having gotten there surprisingly early. Rory sat there, picking at their lunch absent-mindedly while scrolling through their phone. Grace sat beside them, twirling her hair around her finger and completely ignoring her lunch in favor of staring at something across the cafeteria. Ajay followed her line of sight but only saw the new poster advertising their spring musical, The Tempest.

Grace had snagged the lead role of Miranda after making her high school theatre debut as the lead in their fall play. It was her sophomore year, after she and her brother transferred from a school in Seattle when her parents decided to move back to their hometown and start their own business, a small diner called the Golden Griddle. Grace herself was an impressive actor, and even though Ajay didn’t want to admit it, she was an impressive person as well.

She turned her head as if snapping out of a trance, looking towards Ajay.

“Hey,” she greeted him. “Just checking out the new posters. I didn’t see them before.”

That’s right, Ajay reminded himself. Of course she might not have seen them until now. She had been noticeably absent from rehearsal yesterday, where Skye and Mr. Olsen had presented the new posters and the entire group had spent the last half-hour putting them up all over the school. It hadn’t been a huge deal- there were plenty of scenes that needed blocking, and Ajay had just had Skye stand in for Grace where it was needed. But he couldn’t pretend he wasn’t concerned, especially since he’d seen her twin heading home from soccer practice.

“Yeah, we put them up during rehearsal yesterday.”

“About that,” she started, looking uneasy. “I’m sorry I didn’t come to rehearsal yesterday. I… wasn’t feeling well, and I had to go home early.”

Ajay furrowed his brows. Grace looked so uncomfortable while she was saying that that it was obvious it was a lie, or at least not the entire truth. He wanted to ask her about it, but then James loudly sat down beside her, chatting with Erin, and he dropped it. Grace looked relieved at her brother’s interruption. Ajay shook it off– it didn’t really matter anyways. But he was worried all the same.

“Stop pouting,” Erin interjected,shooting him a ferocious glare. He was so surprised that the frown slipped off his face, causing the whole table to break out into giggles. Even Grace, which eased the worry a little. He shot a fake glare Erin’s way, then had to dodge another glare.

Skye, Natalie, Clint and Trevor showed up not long after, and Rory finally looked up from their phone.

“Hey,” they said. “How was everyone’s morning?”

Skye groaned. “Math test. Kill me now, before my parents see my grades.”

Grace rolled her eyes. “You know you got this, Skye. You knew everything on that test when we were studying last night.”

“Test anxiety is a bitch, though,” Trevor added. He prodded Skye’s shoulder. “I get it. We can’t all be the modern-day Einstein.”

“I resent that,” Grace mumbled, though a small smile remained on her face.

“I signed up to take the SAT at the end of the year,” Erin interjected. “I’m starting SAT prep tutoring this weekend. Three hours on both days.

The entire table except Ajay cringed. “Me too,” he admitted. “I’m gonna need a lot of help if I want a good score on the math section. I can’t make heads or tails of some of this trig stuff.”

Privately, he’d been thinking of asking Grace to help him out after rehearsal. She was already helping Skye on weekends, and though he couldn’t pay her like Skye’s parents could, he thought he’d offer to buy her dinner if she agreed. But that thought remained stuck inside his head, some part of him inexplicably nervous about being alone with her.

While he was caught up in his thoughts, wondering why the girl made him nervous and furiously trying to ignore that part of him, the conversation at the table had continued on without him. James jabbed Grace with his elbow and she jabbed him back. Erin and Rory talked about the college application process, Erin admitting that she wouldn’t be trying for any BFA Drama programs. Clint and Natalie hung on to Rory’s every word, echoing their indignation that Erin wouldn’t pursue drama in higher education. Skye and Trevor talked about set design, Skye even whipping out her sketchbook to add in some details.

By the time Ajay regained attention of the conversation around him, triggered by Erin asking him about that week’s rehearsal schedule, Grace had already zoned back out of the conversation, staring at the poster again. Ajay frowned again. What was up with her?

“Earth to Ajay”, Erin said. “We were arguing over which team was better, softball or soccer. What do you think?”

Ajay quirked an eyebrow. “Erin, I don’t do sports.”

“I don’t know why not. They’re fun! Even just to watch.”

“You know full well I have a complete aversion to any physical activity. But I guess if I had to choose, I’d say soccer.”

Erin nodded knowingly, a smirk playing on her lips. “I can see that. Scoping out the hot guys, are we?”

Ajay sighed “Sure,” he said, trying to sound as defeated as possible. Erin knew how he’d dated Jake a while ago, and he was now the team captain in his senior year at Berry. Erin had a theory that he still held a torch for the guy, though, which couldn’t be further from the truth. The only games he went to anymore were the ones that the whole theatre group went to with Grace to support James. Even though James wasn’t cast in the musical, he was an honorary part of the crew, having stepped in with his calm demeanor during various theatre emergencies. Everyone liked the guy– it was impossible not to– and they made up the loudest group on the bleachers cheering for him.

The only reason Ajay still liked soccer was because it was the only sport he understood. Jake had made sure he’d known everything about soccer, talking about it constantly. Ajay knew his ex planned to play pro soccer in Europe after graduation. Ajay had grown into a soft spot for the game that didn’t end when his relationship with Jake had.

The bell rang to signal that lunch was over, and everyone got up except Ajay and Grace. Ajay, because he was still reeling over the exchange, and Grace, because she was still lost in space, staring at that poster.

“Hey,” he said to her, barely able to make himself heard over the chatter in the cafeteria. “You okay?”

Grace’s eyes snapped to Ajay’s, looking startled for a half-second. “Oh, yeah, just distracted,” she said unconvincingly. She started to gather her stuff, and Ajay echoed her.

He fell into the crowd beside her, trying to make their way through into the hallway. Ajay screwed up all his courage to ask her about tutoring, because he really did need that extra math help.

“Hey, so, I was wondering if you’d be able to help me with my math stuff? I’ll be working on the SAT problems on the weekends but I’m falling dangerously behind in class again. I can’t really pay you but I can buy you dinner or something?”

Grace looked over, a little surprised. “Oh, yeah, sure. You don’t need to buy me dinner, though. I don’t charge my friends.”

“You don’t? But don’t Skye’s parents pay you?”

Grace looked a little embarrassed. “They insisted, and I tried to resist but Skye told me it was just a drop in the bucket for them. So really, I don’t need anything.”

“If you’re sure,” Ajay said. “But if there is anything I can do to repay you, I’ll do it.”

Grace paused for a moment. “Um… if you could help me with English it would be great. I don’t know what any of these old British writers are saying.”

“Sure, that stuff can be hard to digest. Sounds like a good deal for me.”

“Alright. Think we could hit up a coffee shop or a fast food place or something, say twice a week after rehearsal?”

Ajay nodded. “Thanks, Grace.”

“No, thank you,” she smiled. “See you at rehearsal.” Then she ducked her head and disappeared into the crowd.

[reydjarinkenobi]

Loved the recent chapter of Dropkicked! I love the idea of Din being Rey's father, but the messages almost made me cry. Can't wait for more Master-Padawan bonding between the four of them, as well as more bonding between Finn and the clones.

Thank you so much! Sorry it took so long to get this chapter.

----

Finn's head was spinning with the sudden changes that he'd experienced in the past few hours. It wasn't a new feeling for him. If he was honest, his head hadn't really stopped spinning since he'd decided to save Poe all those months ago.

 After that decision, that one choice which uprooted everything that Finn had ever known, everything had been constantly changing. At times, it had felt like it was impossible to pause long enough to even take a breath. Finn had been dragged through a whirlwind of chaos and fighting, moving through missions, between different bases, and around different positions in the Resistance. The only times where his mind had seemed to slow down were when he was with Poe or Rey or the general.

 For most of the first few months, Finn hadn't been sure about what he wanted to do. There had been something, deep inside him that had screamed at him to run, to find a dark corner of the galaxy so far away and well-hidden that the First Order would never find him, not matter how far their influence spread and how much power they took. However, whenever he went to ask the general for transport, for help in hiding (he knew that she would give it without judgement should he ask, in fact, she was the one who offered a few days after he'd woken up in the med bay after Starkiller Base), he seemed to catch sight of Poe fixing his TIE fighter or talking quietly to BB8, or Rey determinedly walking off into the forest to yet again sit there for hours or pouring through books as she tried to understand how to fix the galaxy, and he knew that he could not abandon them.

 These people were his people and they were fighting for what was right. And, yes, it was scary and it was difficult and they were losing. But, it felt good every time they helped someone, or saved a planet from the First Order's clutches. Finn had never felt like he was doing something right before. He didn't want to stop and, ultimately, every time he had faltered, that conviction had proved stronger than the fear.

 But time travel? That was hard to tackle.

 Finn followed General Kenobi to the luscious garden. The first thing he noticed when he entered the room was the sudden increase in temperature. This ship was fancy enough for the halls to be heated even in hyperspace. However, the humidity in room of tropical plants, which was almost like a greenhouse, took the edge of the chill that permeated hyperspace more than the heaters ever could. The second thing he noticed was the frankly ridiculous water feature that dominated the centre of the high-ceilinged room.

 General Kenobi led him over to a clear section of glass right next to the fountain and sat down in a cross-legged position.

 Finn scrambled to do the same, trying his best to match General Kenobi's posture.

 He must have done something right because General Kenobi smiled at him, filling Finn's chest with a warmth.

 "I know this must be very overwhelming for you," General Kenobi said.

 Finn nodded. "That's one way to put it."

 General Kenobi's smile widened a little. "Yes, that was rather an understatement, wasn't it? My apologies, I've had so much practice with phrasing things diplomatically that it has become automatic."

 "That's… useful."

 General Kenobi chuckled before he looked seriously into Finn's eyes. "Regardless of the… unusual circumstances you've found yourself in, you are my padawan now, and we will be working very closely together. We will be partners, even above the battalions we will be working with and Padawan Rey and Master Windu, do you understand?"

 Finn frowned, but he nodded again. "Yes. You'll be teaching me and I'll answer primarily to you."

 General Kenobi nodded. "Of course, given your age and circumstances, this will be a highly unusual padawanship and, as such, we will both need to be flexible and open to our expectations for this dynamic."

 Finn blinked. He hadn't expected such a frank and open discussion. Honestly, it reminded him of General Organa, when she'd sat him down and frankly asked him what he wanted.

 "Uh… yeah. That would be good actually."

 General Kenobi smiled gently, his posture somehow becoming even more straight even as eh inclined his head towards Finn.

 "I promise to do my best to train you in the ways of the Jedi and help you gain mastery over the Force. However, I also want you to know that, should the Jedi path not be suited for you, you will always have my support going forward, even if you decide to leave the order. I have many contacts that could help you establish a life outside the Order."

 Finn frowned. Over the past couple of months, he had come to accept the fact that he would eventually join the sparse ranks of the mystical Force Users. However, he hadn't been prepared for joining such an organised and established Order.

 "And what does it mean to be a Jedi?" Finn asked. "Rey and I tried to figure it out, but there wasn't much… I mean most records had been destroyed and it was hard to find real solid evidence of what the Order really was like… or is like I guess."

 General Kenobi put a hand on his chin, pausing in thought for a few moments before he questioned, "What do you think it means to be a Jedi?"

 Finn pressed his lips together. "From what I understand of past stories and from what I think… Jedi are peacekeepers, right? They protected the galaxy as best they could and mediate government bureaucracy to try and get fair outcomes. They protect people when they can't protect themselves."

 General Kenobi's shoulders lowered slightly. "That's what we try to do. It's become a lot more difficult over the last few years. We… try to do what is right. But you missed one, very important. We are beholden to the Senate. Especially after recent legislation. It has allowed us to have influence within in the galaxy to make it better, but everything comes at a price and we've been feeling it recently."

 Finn leaned forward, looking deeply into General Kenobi’s eyes. “There is one thing that I am certain of and that all those in the Resistance, particularly General Leia: the Jedi were good. They helped the galaxy. Even the Clone Wars was... is the Jedi doing everything they can to protect it.”

 General Kenobi glanced down, taking a slow breath before he looked up at Finn, his eyes shining.

 “That means more than I can say.”

 He cleared his throat. “It is not my place to tell you what being a Jedi is to you. However, you must know that if you choose to be a Jedi, you must commit to being a Jedi. It has to be your first priority and you can’t let anything else come before that.”

 Finn pursed his lips. “Luke said something similar when he talked about being a Jedi. I think I understand.”

 “You do?”

 Finn nodded. “Its similar in the Resistance: the cause comes first. Anything else comes second... came second. We couldn’t afford to prioritise anything over our missions or the people we were helping could get hurt... could have died.”

 General Kenobi inclined his head forward, his face impassive, but Finn was very good at reading people, having spent much of his life surrounded by people in full armour, and if he had to guess, the slight loosening of the man’s shoulders belied his relief.

 “Good. The Jedi do not forbid romantic relationships, just attachments that could compromise our objectivity or our ability to perform our duties, but I think that you understand that. If you do think that you’ve formed an attachment that will jeapordise you’re ability to make the right decision when it comes down to it, then it will your job to come forward with that and either work threw that attachement or step down as a Jedi before you get someone hurt. The Council has been more... lenient with this rule since the war began. It’s blurred the lines for many but it is still important.”

 Finn blinked and absorbed this information for a few moments before he replied, “I agree. Poe agrees too. I... think I might love him but we both knew that there would always be something that came first, even after the war. Poe has always been to committed to saving the galaxy above all else and I... I think I like helping people. And I don’t want something to come before that, not even Poe.”

 At this, General Kenobi smiled. “That is... an extremely mature response. But, just know, if you change your mind, you are free to leave the Order. You might not be a Jedi afterwards, but you will still have the support of your friends if you wish to keep in contact.”

 Finn nodded. “I understand.”

 General’s Kenobi’s grin widened and he took a deep breath. “I know that this was extremely unexpected, but I have a good feeling about you and your team. I think you will find your place here and I’m looking forward to teaching you.”

 Finn wanted to duck his head but managed to stop himself, even as he felt his cheeks heat up. “Thank you, General Kenobi.”

 “It’s, Obi-Wan, or Master Obi-Wan if you want to, but don’t feel pressured if you are uncomfortable with that title or it causes you distress. I know the negative connotations it has in much of the galaxy.”

 Finn shook his head. “No, it’s ok. I know that it’s a sign of respect. And I never - the First Order didn’t use that word. It would have been too obvious what we were then. They relied on us being too brainwashed to care.”

 Gener - no, Master Obi-Wan pressed his lips together then but went on instead of diving into a discussion about Finn’s past. He didn’t think he could handle it after the emotional upheaval. The Jedi has already talked with them about the ramifications of leaving everything behind before their medical check ups and implied that there would be more of those conversations in the future.

 “What would be comfortable being adrressed as? I can call you Padawan, or Finn, or even Commander Finn if you would prefer. You will be addressed as such by the troops. I’m afraid it’s rather impossible to get them to use your first names. Cody has only just started doing so, and that is only in private after we’ve already been doing hours of paperwork together.”

 “Any of those are fine.” Just as long as they didn’t use his number, but they hadn’t told him his number, so he would have to worry about that. “I won’t have to call the troopers by their serial numbers will I?”

 Master Obi-Wan grimaced. “Many of them have not chosen names for themselves, so you will need to address those as their designations if you want to converse with them, but a great majority have decided upon their names and prefer it if you address them by their chosen names.”

 Finn nodded vigorously. “Good. That’s good. I can definitely do that.”

 Master Obi-Wan’s eyes softened. “I know that the clones’ reality is not right, but we have thus far been unsuccessful in convincing the Senate that they need rights. I know this will be difficult for you. If you are having difficulties, please feel free to come to me or any Jedi Master if you do not want to talk to me about it. We can arrange a way to make you feel better, even if that is you staying in the Temple, though you will still see troopers there. We have found that we like having them there. It feels right and they help the young kings feel safe.”

 Both Jedi flinched after that at the reminder of just what the troopers on the Temple had done. The event was barely under one and a half years away. The troopers there still had their chips in. They couldn’t convey their information to the Council for fear of it getting intercepted. There was no telling how safe even the most encrypted comms were and this intel was too important to risk getting out. It literally meant the life and death of every Jedi. They couldn’t even discuss it with the other Jedi on their trip yet. They needed to get a plan first.

 “It’s alright,” Finn assured Master Obi-Wan. “Like I said, I know that this was the best option. Without you, the troopers would be stuck with people like Tarkin, and you would have had even less influence than you already do over the trooper’s fates.”

 Master Obi-Wan swallowed and was quiet for a few moments before he looked up. “I think that’s enough heavy topics for one day, Padawan. Do you agree?”

 Finn matched the other man’s smile and nodded.

 Master Obi-Wan shook his shoulders out. “Now, I know that you have practiced meditation, but I would like to see your progress. It is one of the most important parts of a Jedi’s skill set. It helps us connect with the Force and promotes self reflection, which is essential to ensure that you stay in touch with your emotions and feelings.”

 “And don’t fall to the Dark Side.”

 “Very good,” Master Obi-Wan agreed with a nod of his head. “But also to just ensure that you are aware of your emotions and that your connection to the Force is healthy.”

 “That sounds fair.”

 “I’m glad, Finn,” Master Obi-Wan said with a smirk. “Now, would like me to guide you through a meditation?”

 “Yeah,” Finn answered without needing to think about it. “I would.”

 ——

 Rey couldn’t stop the giddy smile from splitting across her face as she opened her eyes. That was the best meditation she’d ever had.

 “That was amazing!” she said. It made up for the long conversation they’d had about the rules of the Jedi (that part really hadn’t been bad. It was nice when people were clear), trauma (which had been painful and left her feeling hollow) and about her feelings towards her family (which had almost made her cry). The conversation had been long and serious, but she thought that her master was convinced that she knew the dangers of attachment - she’d told him about Joie shelf learnt the difference between a healthy relationship and attachment the hard way after all.

 Master Windu’s lips twitched and he glanced down at the comm link on his vambrace, “We have time for me to begin teaching you katas?”

 Rey perked up, causing her master to chuckle. Rey’s eyes widened and Master Windu smiled at her.

 “Did I shock you, Padawan?”

 Rey stammered our a denial but that only caused her master to chuckle again.

 “It’s alright, Rey,” he assured her as he sobered. “I am a High General and the Master of the Order, which means I need to present a certain image to everyone. I know I come off as stern.”

 Rey blinked before she nodded. “That makes sense. The Order needs a firm leader.”

 Her master smiled at her. “However, you are not everyone. You are my Padawan. It is a lot of responsibility for you as we both will be held to a certain expectation when we are around other people. You will need to act respectfully and responsibly. But it also means I won’t be as... stiff around you.”

 Rey absorbed that for a few moments before she answered, “I understand... Master Mace.”

 Her lips twitched as her master sighed. “There was a reason I asked you to address me as either Master or Mace.”

 Rey grinned and Mace raised his eyebrow at her. “Remind me not to introduce you to Depa, your sister padawan. I can already tell that I will never find peace again if I do.”

 They shared a smile as warmth thrummed through their newly established bond and then Mace cleared his throat. “Why don’t we get started. The highly unique style of your saber means that you will need to learn multiple fighting styles to master the staff and dual form. However, I think I’ll start off you Shi-Cho forms for a single blade and we’ll go from there.”

 Rey nodded in agreement and stood up with her master, unclipping her saber from its stop on her belt and lighting up the blue side. Her master ignited his own saber revealing a brilliant purple colour that immediately had Rey entranced as he started showing her simple stances. 

 The moves felt good, a little awkward at first but she quickly picked them up, and soon Mace showed her the variations for staff and Jar’Kai. By the end of the lesson, they had moved onto to a slow sort of sparring and Rey felt like she’d actually made progress for the first time since she’d started training.

 “That was a good session, Padawan” her master praised her warmly at the end of it, stepping up to her shoulder. “I’ll show you to your room so you can get cleaned up before dinner and then we can complete the last step in making your padawanship official.”

 “What’s that, Master?”

 “Giving you a braid.”

 ----

How was this? What else are you looking forward to seeing? I promise we’ll get some clone action soon.

[thatiranianphantom]

Riverdale, Buffy, and the Musical Episode, an analysis.

Hey all! I have spent far too long writing out my thoughts on Riverdale vs. Buffy’s musical episode, from the perspective of a theatre nerd. Thoughts are welcomed!

To those who aren’t aware, I, your humble author, am a massive musical nerd. I have ALL the musical memorabilia, Broadway and the West End are places I’ve visited many times, my favorite genre of music by far is musical theatre, and I am just a musical nerd in all senses of the word. 

Which leads to a...perhaps more sharp criticism when a medium like TV attempts to dive into the world of musical theatre.

(Also, full disclosure, while I enjoy the music of Carrie, Heathers, and certainly Buffy’s musical episode, the music of Hedwig just...don’t work for me. It’s not bad music, it’s not a bad show, it’s just not my thing.) 

In this short analysis, I’m going to attempt to explain why Riverdale’s musical episodes fail, and why it IS possible to successfully mount a great musical episode on TV, by way of example, Buffy the Vampire Slayer’s episode “Once More, With Feeling”. 

First, a short recap of both shows’ musical episodes. 

Currently, Riverdale has three musical episodes. These are all jukebox shows (performing pre-written and pre-performed songs), based on three popular musicals. They first did Carrie the Musical, then Heathers, then Hedwig and the Angry Inch. As to this point, all of them have occurred in a diegetic setting - that is, the characters were aware that the songs were being performed. Carrie and Heathers were explained as being the school musical of the year, and Hedwig was ostensibly performed to prove a point, and to support a student struggling with his own identity. 

Buffy’s one musical episode was in season six, arguably one of the darkest seasons Buffy ever had. It is also a diegetic musical, but not a jukebox musical. It features original songs, written by show creator Joss Whedon. The songs are given explanations and each one is written specifically to fit a character.

To sum it very basically, Buffy’s musical episode is much, much better. It is the first episode I would recommend if you were ever in the market for a musical episode, and it takes itself very seriously, while occurring in a very unrealistic setting. 

At the point Carrie occurs in Riverdale, the characters are dealing with a serial killer known as the Black Hood, who ends up murdering their friend and cast member by the end of the musical, on stage. Of the three musical episodes, you could make a pretty strong argument that the first two musicals tie themselves into the plot best. The role of Carrie’s mother is given to Alice Cooper, because she is also struggling with family issues. Purportedly, the song “Unsuspecting Hearts” is used to make up between two characters, as is “You Shine”. 

Buffy’s musical episode occurs at a time where the characters are all struggling with big secrets that they don’t feel able to tell. It’s driving a wedge between all of them, and there’s a large undercurrent of tension. Buffy can’t tell her friends about the depression she’s struggling with, Willow is becoming dangerously addicted to magic, which has caused her to cast two spells, erasing a memory of a fight from her girlfriend Tara’s mind. Spike is in love with Buffy, but is very much wrestling with what that means. Giles has made plans to leave, because he feels like he is hindering Buffy’s growth. Anya and Xander are having serious doubts about their upcoming marriage. The tension created by all these boils under the surface, but nobody plans to say anything. 

The catalyst for this episode occurs in the form of an unnamed demon, who is accidentally summoned and whose primary power is to make people sing and dance - until they can’t stop, and they burn up. It adds a note of risk to the episode. They are being forced into this, and the stakes are high if they don’t comply. 

And so, one by one, all the characters are forced to express their deepest secrets through song, and the demon leaves them to deal with the fallout. It did what Riverdale, fundamentally, has never managed to do: the songs force the plotline foreward. 

That would have been impossible without the songs. The characters are unwilling to open up to each other, and they feel unable to express themselves, until the demon literally musically forces them to do so. At the end of the episode, their biggest secret, the secret that will inform the rest of the season, is revealed: Buffy’s friends didn’t pull her out of Hell, they pulled her out of heaven, where she was at peace, and now the world around her is bright and violent and she is miserable. That revelation will literally carry us to the season finale. 

Riverdale’s musical episodes are, in a way, explained as above. High schools do musicals. It happens. But all of our main cast, and all in the lead roles? Not likely. And that explanation is made even thinner in the latest musical episode, where characters burst into song at random, like Betty and Jughead’s fight in the bunker, or Kevin and the girls breaking into “Wig in a Box” during a sleepover. 

The issue becomes very contrasting between the two musicals: Buffy builds their world around the songs. The songs are crucial to the plot. The episode wouldn’t work if these specific songs were not given to these specific characters. 

Riverdale, however, bases the songs around the plot, and the result is a very odd episode with songs shoehorned in. They aren’t necessary, they’re just...there. Buffy crafts a plot around the songs. Tara finds the flower Willow used in a previous episode to wipe her mind of a fight, and we can see the song naturally build off that. Tara sings Under Your Spell, which is meaningful because she is quite literally under Willow’s spell. Toni is shoehorned into the Heathers musical to be a choreographer, despite there being no previous indication of any experience with choreography, because they need to get her into the room to sing Candy Store, because Heathers features this song, which means they have to. 

The Riverdale musicals take none of the plot of their source materials, which strips the very songs they struggle to add in of all their context and meaning. For example, Hedwig is a show which features a domestic violence plotline as one of its main arcs. Hedwig herself is a pretty terrible person. You would never know that from watching the episode. Heathers’ entire premise talks about how it’s very easy to influence someone into cruelty to the very people who were kind to them, and how quickly a lie can spiral out of control. None of that features in the Heathers Riverdale episode. These songs are powerful because of the context that surrounds them, and that is just...gone. Hedwig’s final song (Midnight Radio) exists in universe as a song where Hedwig finds emotional catharsis and hands her stage off to someone else. It’s exceptionally meaningful, because the whole musical has been a journey to this point. None of that poignancy is able to be translated to Riverdale. 

In contrast, Buffy’s final song (Where Do We Go From Here) feels very earned because it feels like the end of a journey for the characters. All their secrets are exposed, and you can feel the ramifications that will last for a long time after this. And that’s not even mentioning Buffy’s solo Something To Sing About, where she is literally begging for something to make her feel more alive. This only works if Buffy is singing it. The song is designed around her, and it is where she admits her biggest secret. The song is necessary, it is crucial. NONE of the songs in the Riverdale musical episodes have this same power. 

(ALSO, RE: RIVERDALE HEATHERS,  J.D. IS ONE OF HEATHERS MAIN CHARACTERS, I WAS SO EXCITED TO HAVE SWEET PEA PLAYING HIM, AND NONE OF J.D.’S SONGS WERE GIVEN TO SWEET PEA. INJUSTICE. ALSO ALSO, THIS LINE:

Reggie: Just two single straight dudes doing some theatre.

OH SWEET REGGIE. NOBODY HAS TOLD YOU ABOUT KURT AND RAM HAVE THEY DARLING?) 

It should be noted that Riverdale’s songs in all three musicals are heavily reworked to fit the characters, and the TV network rating, better. 

Music has meaning. The songs should be there to do something, not just have extra content to churn out and look good doing it. As stated, Riverdale’s musical episodes aren’t necessary. There are no stakes to their expression through song. 

Fundamentally, Buffy understands what a musical episode is. They do only one, and that was a fight to get on the network as it was.

Think of it this way: did the songs affect the characters and plotline enough that it would still have ramifications a few episodes later? 

Buffy’s certainly did. 

One could theoretically say Midge’s death affected Riverdale, which did occur during the episode. One could also say that Betty and Jughead burning the trailer affected Riverdale. But those didn’t need the songs to exist. Again, they were just….there. 

And then there’s the issue of vocal performance. 

Look, musicals are a lot of work, and it’s hard on the voice. 

Buffy’s cast does feature several singers. Notably, Anthony Stewart Head, Amber Benson and James Marsters have had separate success in music outside of Buffy. 

Riverdale’s cast features a grand total of one person with professional musical experience (that would be Casey Cott, who makes that fact entirely obvious). I suppose KJ Apa counts too, so let’s say two to be generous. 

But again, Buffy wins this round. Make no mistake, their songs are autotuned. Just about every piece of music you’ve heard since the 80s has had some amount of autotune applied to it. Sarah Michelle Gellar would probably be the first to admit, she is not a singer. Actually, up until she received the music, she was fully planning on being dubbed, and is openly says she is not comfortable singing. And you can tell. In the musical, she sounds fine. She’s not amazing. That’s actually the point. She sings well enough to fully communicate the emotions she’s feeling, but it feels genuine. You can believe Buffy is actually singing, not in that full voiced, broadway quality voice that so many Riverdale episodes feature, but in a normal-person singing voice, the voice we all use when we sing in the shower. Willow is not a great singer, and Alyson Hannigan is clearly not comfortable singing either. Accordingly, she’s given the fairly meta line “I think this line’s mostly filler”, and it doesn’t sound heavily autotuned. It’s a normal person voice. 

In contrast, Riverdale’s voices are mostly a machine. I’d kill to listen to the raw tracks, but they are practically waterboarded with autotune. One can scarcely distinguish a real voice in there. They don’t sound like real people, they sound like professionally polished singers. And how many high schools have full choruses of broadway quality singers? It takes you out of the show. I actually would have liked Riverdale’s musical episodes far better, had they let them use their more natural voices. It would have sounded less polished, sure, but it also would have sounded more real. Lili Reinhart has a pretty voice naturally. I would have loved to see that being allowed to exist in these episodes. 

(On a slightly separate note, Casey Cott is very clearly a singer. His voice is full, trained and controlled. It stands out above everyone’s in every musical episode).

In summation, musical episodes are becoming more and more common, but that doesn’t mean they’re easy to do well. However, if you understand the meaning you have to imbue music with on a medium like TV, and craft your context around the singing, it can work. 

And if you’re looking for a musical episode, for god sakes, watch Once More With Feeling. 

[fnniganthomas]

                  ❝ in my mind I am eloquent; I can climb intricate scaffolds of                      words. but when I open my mouth, everything collapses. ❞

{ cis man, he/him } ❝ icarus is forever deemed the boy who flew too close to the sun and got burned. to me, he is just a boy too enthralled by beauty to care whether or not it could hurt him. ❞ huh, who’s TAYLOR ZAKHAR PEREZ? no, you’re mistaken, that’s actually LEANDER FINNIGAN-THOMAS. he is a 23 year old HALF-BLOOD wizard who is a TATTOO ARTIST. he is known for being RETICENT, SELF-CONSCIOUS, STUBBORN, INARTICULATE, and PERSUADABLE but also TRUSTING, SYMPATHETIC, EARNEST, PERCEPTIVE, and QUICK-THINKING, so that must be why he always reminds me of the song EPITAPH BY HIPPO CAMPUS and THE SMELL OF HOMEMADE BROWNIES BAKING; TECHNICOLOR PAINT STAINS ON EVERYTHING YOU OWN; A SKY GONE GREEN WITH PROMISED RAIN; WORN FLANNELS YOU’RE HAPPY TO LET OTHERS BORROW; A LUMP IN YOUR THROAT FROM THE WORDS YOU SWALLOW. i hear he is aligned with THE ORDER OF THE PHOENIX, so be sure to keep an eye on him. { zoe, 22, cst, she/her }  [ leander is adopted. ]

ADDITIONAL MATERIALS:   leander’s playlist, stats page, & pinterest board    CHARACTER PARALLELS:   jason mendoza (the good place), chidi anagonye (the good place), ty lee (atla), finn (star wars), troy barnes (community), brittany pierce (glee), ponyboy curtis (the outsiders), aang (atla) 

one.

there was no real doubt in anyone’s mind that leander was his fathers’ son. even the two of them had no trouble seeing bits of the other in him. 

dean could be heard calling leander seamus’ son when he ran into the side table holding lit candles and set several wooden picture frames ablaze. seamus returned the favor and referred to leander as dean’s son when he walked into leander’s room and saw he’d upended several jars of paint on the floor. to this day, none of them could really say if he’d upended the jars on purpose or not.

leander liked to think it was on purpose, even as he proclaimed his innocence every time the family told the story over laughter-filled dinners. proclaiming his innocence was just part of the way that story got told and he couldn’t go breaking tradition. really, he liked the way the rainbow of colors was still burrowed into the grooves of the wood and the slats between floorboards, even after countless attempts at cleaning the last of it. a part of him wondered if that hadn’t been an early sign of magic; he knew that that paint washed easily out of his hair and off his closes, but it stuck stubbornly to the floor right where he liked it. 

the colors on the floor nearly matched the technicolor quilt that lay on top of his bed year-round. he liked when things matched like that, almost by accident; like the world liked when things looked pretty as much as he did. he kinda hoped that was one of his first bits of magic; it felt fitting. he said as much to his gran once and had his hair ruffled for his trouble.

two.

when he was a child, he was always elbow deep in some messy thing. it wasn’t that he had a knack for causing trouble  —  he just had such a hard time saying no to trouble when it came calling. he had a hard time saying no to anything that came calling.

that was probably why trouble was always calling him. it knew he was an easy mark.

he made friends easily as a child, when things were easier and no one seemed to mind or care that he had such a hard time finding the words for things. leander was too polite to voice the blame out loud, but he was convinced that his friends growing up were at least half behind all the messes he got into.

the other kids around him might’ve been better at causing messes, but leander made up for it by being a mess. he was always having a crisis as a kid  —  his stuffed dragons were just ravaging the block city, dad, but what about the finger puppet people formerly houses in that block tower? do they even sell dinosaur insurance?? why didn’t I think of the implications here …

he and his sister played knights a lot, with toy swords and helmets modeled after the suits of armor in hogwarts  (dean asked seamus if that wasn’t a little much, when they bought them; they were a few years out from school, after all, they didn’t care that the helmets were accurate  — )   and leander always wondered about the ramifications of two knights fighting each other. shouldn’t they be friends, he thought? she always took his ensuing rambling full of hypothetical knight-schisms as opportunity to knock him flat backwards.

he was a needy kid  —  he always had questions at his lips, a thousand things he wanted to say. it took him forever to find the way to say them, though; leander hated feeling any negative thing, but he was used to frustration turned inward. it was his least favorite feeling, and one he was all too accustomed to. even now, leander was never quite sure what to do with his words. his mind was an easy enough place for him to navigate, and he loved being there for others when they needed someone to listen.

but whenever he tried talking himself wires got crossed and nothing came out how he wanted it to.

three.

he’d always been more quiet than he’d have liked to be, because he did actually have a lot to say. by the time he was nearly hogwarts-aged, he’d mostly forced himself to get over his hang-ups around his family. they poked good-natured fun at him, but he knew they’d always give him as much time as he needed to phrase a sentence or find a word. he could be assured that some of the other kids he’d grown up around would know that he just took a while to say what he really meant, too.

it was the thought of the castle, so full of strangers and professors he didn’t know, that scared him. getting sorted into ravenclaw scared him even more. he knew he didn’t always sound smart, and it worried him that others would listen to him and decide that he wasn’t, actually, smart enough to be a ravenclaw. he knew that he was smart, that he had things of value to offer to conversations. he was just so bad at getting them out the way he wanted to.

he stayed quiet for a while, even knowing he didn’t actually want to be quiet.

whenever he tried to articulate that point to other people though, it tended not to go as well as it did in his head  —  only proving his point. one of the prefects his first year rolled her eyes, said, ‘if you want to be less quiet, just say more, leander.’ but it wasn’t that easy, for him. he had a lot to say but had trouble finding the words for all those things. he could usually carry polite conversation just fine; fool people into thinking he knew what he was doing. but anything more than that required his total focus, and still was rarely quite right.

he bit down on half-formed questions because he thought it was better to not know some things if it meant he didn’t have to see people grow annoyed at his fumbling words. then that made him feel even more like he was some sort of fraud-ravenclaw  —  what ravenclaw thought they were better off not knowing things?

just like he forced himself to get over his worries to talk to his family and old friends, he forced himself to accept that words were never going to be his specialty. then he forced himself to be fine with that. he worked hard to focus on the things he was good at, that didn’t require him to talk too much  —  he always felt at home in the air on his broom, or with a sketchbook in his lap, or in the kitchen whipping up something that’d make other people happy. those things weren’t nothing. 

four. 

leander was smart, actually; he excelled in herbology and charms and worked hard enough everywhere else to not be singled out during class. he never caused as many explosions as his dad did from simple transfiguration. and he was great with people, for all that he got so in his head sometimes that he felt clumsy with even his dearest friends. but being smart never stopped anyone from being a fool. 

when leander looked back on his childhood, it was as if all of his roiling anxieties melted away. it was like looking in on a world encased in the sun  —  he imagined his memories as some sort of weird, reverse snow globe, where everything shimmered at the edges and only got brighter as you shook it up. 

hindsight made even mundane or negative memories seem golden, to leander. his biggest fault was that he always liked to think things were kinder than they actually were.

leander trusted people to be better than they were  and was bad at saying what he meant, which was, at times an awful combination for him. he trusted the world to treat him better than it did. 

if someone ever tries to convince him that, no, really, that harsh person from a historically bigoted family is not a good person, his stubbornness really came out and saw leander dig his feet in. he never wanted to believe that people had to be truly black or white  —  he was stubbornly convinced that there was good in every person, even when he was told he shouldn’t try so hard to look for it.

leander knew what was it like to feel you stood on the fringes of everybody else’s lives; no amount of forcing himself to be comfortable with the way he was ever took that anxiety away. he tried his hardest to be accommodating and friendly and understanding to everyone he came into contact with, even the people who maybe didn’t deserve his kindness. especially them, sometimes. he didn’t want anyone feeling like he was someone to be wary around. leander was steadfast in his beliefs and knew he wouldn’t change them, but all the same  —  that shouldn’t be a reason for someone to look at him and expect anything less than he gave everyone else.

four.

home never stopped being the most comforting place for leander. not even once he was older, a little more settled, and no longer had such stress over belonging in ravenclaw tower. not even once he had plenty of friends, a spot on the quidditch roster, a place in the castle. he adored not feeling so lost at school the older he got, but it couldn’t compete with home. 

the golden gleam of his memories made everything feel well-worn and well-loved in his head, but home was the biggest victim, and the most deserving of such treatment. leander was stubbornly adamant that there was no better place in the world than the finnigan-thomas’ home in kenmare. holidays at home with his family, extended and sprawling and filled with family friends as much as blood relatives, were leander’s favorite thing. 

he loved his dads so much  —  even as he couldn’t help but wonder, privately, if they wouldn’t have preferred a son who wasn’t such a fuck up sometimes. he’d certainly caused several dinner parties to grind to a halt with a poorly-phrased question directed at the aunt he forgot he wasn’t supposed to sit next to, after the incident over christmas dinner when he was ten. 

leander wondered if his dads wouldn’t want a son who was better at words, because leander always thought there were ways for him to be better. he wondered, privately, because he couldn’t help but worry. but the logical part of his brain knew that there wasn’t a need to worry over them. they loved him, he knew, and didn’t even need his memory to gloss everything over for that to be true.  

five. 

there was always a level of creativity in the house growing up, and leander took to it like a fish to water. he never really let up on his fascination with color and the physicality of paint clinging to his skin and the paintbrush and whatever canvas was in front of him. the permanently-painted floorboards in his room weren’t the only casualty in the house, but that was alright. no one ever gave leander too much grief over tracking paint everywhere.

it was easier for him to take a pencil to page than to find the words, sometimes, and he was so happy his family understood that about him, and let it grow. 

leander couldn’t keep track of how many drawings his dads pinned up to the fridge when he was a kid, or how excited dean had been to lead leander around museums growing up. he cherished every minute seamus spent nodding along as leander rambled about some era in art history seamus knew nothing about. it didn’t matter that leander grew into being comfortable at hogwarts, and around strangers, and people who weren’t so understanding with his fumbled words; it was work, with all of them, even as the work got easier on him. 

nothing about being near his family and feeling that love felt like work. 

leander, even grown out a childhood-self that worried over the ethics of stuffed dragons knocking over block towers, couldn’t help but be dragged down the whirlpool of hypothetical thoughts. he wondered if there was some alternate-universe leander who wasn’t as lucky as he was, who didn’t have his dads and his sister and his friends. maybe there was a leander who had those things but still lived in a world that was altogether harsher than his was. he thanked the universe as often as he remembered to that he was who he was, and that he was where he was. 

leander was bowled over by stress and anxiety and worries more often than he existed in a state of honest chill, but he was still so happy to have the life he did. he didn’t always feel like he deserved it, but he was glad it was his. 

six. 

when leander was sixteen, he dicked around enough on the internet to teach himself how to give magical tattoos and muggle tattoos both. he really thought that it shouldn’t have been so easy to order all the necessary equipment and have it delivered to his house; he really, really thought that the owl that came bearing his enchanted ink should’ve asked for, like, ID or something. it felt like getting away with something, how easy it was. 

leander was well-versed in courting trouble at this point and knew he shouldn’t look a gift horse in the mouth. he just thought it was important to note that he worried at it being so easy for people without training to get all that stuff. 

he practiced on himself and his sister, with a little needling and an iron-clad pinkie swear that they’d keep the tattoos a secret from their dads. in hindsight, it was a very stupid decision on leander’s part to start practicing in the summer, when they went to the beach often enough that the two finnigan-thomas kids had to order some fancy witch-owned brand of waterproof concealer to cover the evidence. their dads didn’t notice the tattoos until they came home that winter break and forgot to start hiding them again, though, so leander would take the win. 

he offered tattoos to people at school, and really hoped that some of them also forgot to hide them when they went home for winter hols. it felt only fitting that his not-thought-out plan brought some other people a bit of trouble. he’d call it payback for all that time in their childhoods when he’d been the one getting dragged into problems, but the thought of payback as a concept made leander a little sad, so, whatever. 

seven. 

it felt only fitting that he looked into doing tattoos as a professional once he was out of hogwarts. dean certainly insinuated, when leander mused over the option, that it would make the shock he’d given his dads over the tattoos worth it. leander kind of agreed; he didn’t think the tattoos weren’t worth it, already, but there could be layers to worth. on principle, he loved the idea of practice. he liked to think that everything in life was practice for something to come  —  that nothing happened to you that couldn’t have a use later down the line. 

it had a nice symmetry to it, a circular-ness. it was the sort of lofty thought he’d have an absolute monster of a time voicing out loud, but he felt it, and sometimes that was enough for leander. it was like the paint worn into his floorboards that matched the quilt on his bed; unintentional but fitting anyway. 

leander wondered if maybe he shouldn’t look into going to muggle university to study art, or at least take an apprenticeship under a wizarding artist so he could learn how to paint portraits and landscapes that could move and all. there was still a career in that, people looking to have themselves or their relatives or their homes immortalized in oils even as moving photographs were so much easier these days. 

he was  —  definitely, he was interested in learning that sort of thing. it just felt like too big a goal to have for his life right after school was over. he hadn’t been suspended in a state of constant stress during his time at hogwarts, or anything, but h still felt a strong sort of relief when it was over. 

there were things he’d miss; how easy it was, having so many of his friends all living in the same place, all doing the same things and living such parallel lives. he’d miss quidditch practice now that he knew he’d never make it as a professional  —  and never want to, besides. he’d miss the community of it all, even as he recalled how hard it had been for him to settle into it. he knew that it would only take a year or two, maybe less than that, for him to start romanticizing his time there like nothing had ever hurt in the castle’s walls. 

but the sigh of relief, that was bigger than anything he missed, and it made him sure he wanted to take a step back from school and any formal training or education. he already knew enough about tattooing now that he felt assured it wouldn’t feel so much like starting over to make a job of it.

eight. 

leander was always far better at thinking on his feet than most people would guess from knowing him. it sometimes surprised leander himself, even  —  he knew he had a propensity towards worry, and it seemed like maybe he shouldn’t actually be good in an emergency. maybe it was just that he had an overactive fight or flight instinct that he’d long trained over the years to fight through whatever it could. he might not be the person people in his life wanted around when they were going through a crisis, but he knew how to handle himself in all manner of unexpected situations. leander liked to think he rarely made things worse. 

does he make good choices whilst thinking on his feet? not all the time. but then, who could be relied on to make the perfect decision during every high stress situation they found themselves tossed into? leander made choices, and knew better than to stand idle; leander was of the belief that second guessing things had no value, even as he couldn’t help himself sometimes. he tried his best to face every consequence of every action head on. 

he dug his feet in over stupid, foolish decisions often enough. it was fitting that sometimes when he dug his feet in, it was for a purpose. the best way out is through, and all that  —  maybe he’d get that adage tattooed on him someday, too. 

sometimes it still felt like things happened to him, like he was a less active participant in his life than others were in theirs. he’d always pick fight over flight but not every situation asked that choice of him. it was less because he had a genuine go-with-the-flow personality, and more that he had such a hard time saying no.  

nine. 

when the world around him started turning itself upside down with awfulness and inside out with tragedy, leander knew it wouldn’t do him any good to freeze now. he joined up with the order because he knew there really wasn’t any other option he could take and still look at himself in the mirror. he wasn’t an auror or a healer or anyone that he thought had, like, much of value to offer the cause. but he was asked, and he said yes, because leander always, always said yes when trouble came calling for him. it was instinctive at this point.

leander liked to think he didn’t hate a lot of things. his heart was too open, to full of potential love, for him to like feeling anything harsher than annoyance, frustration. he forced bursts of hurt to come and go in a count of ten, because dwelling on the negative made him feel hollowed out. 

but he stopped laying in bed at night so often, thanking his lucky stars that he was leander in this world over any others; he started, instead, wondering if any generation in this world of theirs would get to be untouched by even the threat of war. he wondered if it was too naive to wish this darkness would fade as quickly as it did when his dads were kids. 

he turned things over in his memory now that some of the worst had come to pass; normally he let everything be painted in shades of gold, but he wondered if that wasn’t part of the problem. maybe too many people had worked too hard to push prison breaks and strange disappearances to the side  —  maybe too many people had had wanted to remember things only as happy and bright. it was such an ingrained part of himself now that leander knew he’d never be able to stop thinking things were better than they were. 

maybe it would be the end of him one day. but at least he’d be himself, at the end. 

[script-a-world]

Do you have any existing examples of world building a future that's actually accurate and predictive of the future? Say, ones that have depicted the last 5 years with some accuracy but created over 15 years ago. Or perhaps some future ones that aren't extreme sci fi writing genetically modified humans with superpowers or time travel in the next 50 years.

Tex: The Simpsons sure did give things a go (Metro, Business Insider).

That said, I could throw out some arguments in the line of “100% predictions are plausibly from time-travellers and would skew the time-line, likely creating catastrophic effects on spacetime as we know it” or something, but that would very quickly derail your question.

More realistically, Star Trek did a damn good job on the technological front (The Portalist, Quartz), and their cultural impact has been so significant that there’s a wiki on it. In this instance, I would argue rather more that the genre of sci-fi in particular has inspired our current technological advances - when we have an idea posited to us, it no longer becomes “impossible”, merely “improbable”.

Humans have historically liked a good challenge (or on the flip-side, really dislike being told no), so I would say that eventually most sci-fi things are created by sheer stubbornness. A warp drive, for example, has been talked about since at least the 1960s, but we’re slowly getting there in terms of real-world development (ScienceAlert, Universe Today).

We might not have the superpowers thing down yet (though that might take some paradigm changes, re: quantum entanglement in the brain and related topics - let’s scale our expectations of a “superpower” gradually), but we do already have genetically modified humans. Germ-line therapies (also known as somatic gene therapy, ScienceDirect) have existed for a while, and have many ethical issues arising from it (SingularityHub, National Academy of Sciences).

I do my best to keep up with as many STEM fields as I can, but in the past decade we’ve had a boom in development - I think if you asked someone in 2000 what sort of scientific and technological developments would exist by 2020, a good half of them might be wrong due to the simple fact that many fields just didn’t exist.

Given how long it took us to posit the theory of cellphones (in 1917 by Finnish inventor Eric Tigerstedt), to how long the first commercially available mobile phone was sold (by Motorola in 1973) - never mind flip phones (first posited in 1964 by Star Trek: The Original Series, first seen in real life via the Motorola StarTAC in 1996) - I would challenge anyone to bring a concept from drawing board to production line within ten years and have it be a commercial success!

There’s approximately 46 listed fields of engineering in this wiki, the Bureau of Labor Statistics cites that seven out of ten of the largest STEM fields were computer related in 2017 - the first concept of the modern computer was by Alan Turing in 1937 (Wikipedia), the first realization of this concept was with the Ferranti Mark 1 in 1951 (Wikipedia), and the first mobile computer was the IBM 5100 in 1975 (Wikipedia) - between Alan Turing in 1937 and the job statistics of 2017, a full 80 years had passed. I won’t delve more into the details of things like the history of social media, the Dot-com bubble, or literally anything about the 2000s, but suffice to say:

Description: Exponential Growth in STEM? Articles Published Worldwide, 1900?2011. Source: SPHERE project database of SCIE publications (Thomson Reuters' Web of Science).

STEM is likely increasing at an exponential pace (ResearchGate). I don’t know whether this means we’ll see things like the Enterprise, a TARDIS, or even Spiderman within our lifetime, but I distinctly would not preclude their possibilities just because our literature and scientific experiments didn’t have a palatable success rate. We got cell phones and 3D printing! I’m sure humans might be able to see things like superpowered humans or time-travel eventually, if not in our lifetime.

Delta: I’d also recommend The Martian by Andy Weir if you haven’t read it. It’s not super advanced sci-fi, so I’m not sure if it’s exactly what you’re looking for, but it’s an extremely realistic look at near-future space travel and Mars missions (realistic in every way, that is, except for the privatization of the American space industry; Weir wrote publicly funded space travel, which is looking less and less likely to be the case).

Station Eleven, by Emily St. John Mandel, is less sci-fi and more apocalypse/dystopia fiction, but takes a realistic, hard look at how humanity would actually react to an apocalypse, and is disturbingly familiar in 2020 (the main plot is a pandemic, so read with caution). Similarly, Octavia Butler wrote a great deal of similar future dystopia fiction; I’m particularly thinking of Parable of the Sower (warnings for rape, violence, riots, looting, etc.).

Mary Doria Russel’s The Sparrow is another good one. The timeline is a bit outdated, things didn’t happen as quickly as she thought, but her ideas about everything from space travel in asteroids to continuing violence in the middle east are more or less shaping up the way she predicted. She also takes a realistic look at what “first contact” would actually be like, as well as the actual ramifications of relative time caused by space travel. (While Russel is herself Jewish, Roman Catholic Christianity plays a very important role both thematically and in the plot, so this won’t be everyone’s cup of proverbial tea).

(On a related note, the movie Arrival by director Dennis Villeneuve is another sci-fi story that’s a very realistic (if somewhat trippy) look at “first contact,” but is set in the present day, rather than the future, so it’s not necessarily what you’re looking for, but I think very highly of it because of its realism and creative restraint, so it felt worth a mention.)

[helloprettybb]

clear-headed

Every time I write a fic after a long break, I say I might come back and I don’. So I’m not making any promises. I found this in my drafts and decided to finish it. I also have an idea for a whole storyline centering around this fic, so if you want more parts, then great, I’ll finish it. If not, I may still finish it, who knows.

Word count- 1.5k

Warnings- alcohol

Your one and only objective tonight is to get drunk. Vodka, wine, beer, it doesn’t matter. Whatever it takes to reach your end goal, you’ll gladly welcome. So when the bartender asked you how many drinks you’ve had, you have to think long and hard, recounting the night. You reply with a number that is clearly too high since he decides to cut you off. Pouting, you hop off the barstool and realize just how well you succeeded. Wobbling back and forth in the semi-empty pub, you try to walk normally but fail terribly. Grabbing onto any wall or pole that’s within reach, you stumble towards the door when you bump into a very tall stranger. Wanting to learn the stranger’s identity, you begin to tilt your head up, while your legs give out, causing you to hit the ground with a thud. The man says something to the bartender before turning back to you. Grabbing your hands, he helps you up onto your feet.

“Y/n, what are you doing here?” the man asks, concern laced in his voice. He leads you toward the door before anything else could happen. 

“How do you know my name?” you loopily question. Letting go of his hands, you try to walk by yourself but fail miserably when your feet send you walking in a zig-zag.

“It’s Spencer,” he replies patiently, stepping to your side, so he can catch you if you fall again. Holding the door open, he watches as you try to walk through by yourself but use the door frame as a crutch to stay upright. He links your arm in his and walks you out of the pub.

“Oh, Spencer!” you giggle, finally realizing who it is. You shake him off so you can walk on your own. “I don’t need your help. I’m completely sober!” you exclaim loudly.

“I’m not so sure about that,” he responds, trying to grab your arm again. 

“No!” you whine, determined to walk on your own. Spencer can’t help but think how adorable you are, still stubborn as shit, even when you're hammered. “Watch, I can walk in a straight line,” you claim boldly.

“Technically all lines are straight,” Spencer informs you. He silently scolds himself, realizing that now isn’t the time for basic geometry.

“Whatever,” you roll your eyes and begin walking heel to toe but feel yourself wobble. You collapse into Spencer, who suddenly appeared in front of you. Unknowingly burying your face into his chest, you mumble, “How did you get there so fast?”   

“I’m not fast; you’re just drunk.” Spencer chuckles. Spencer gently removes you from him and links your arm again. Finally conceding, you allowed him to assist you. Giggling randomly, Spencer wonders what happened when you exclaim, “I’m so drunk!” He gladly laughs along as you’re overcome with a laugh attack.

Once you both settle down, he asks, “Why did you get so drunk?” Spencer’s never seen you hammered since you always opted to stay sober when going out with the team. He didn’t protest since the two of you had some very deep conversations while watching your coworkers become shit-faced.

“Well, it’s because of you,” you reply candidly, not considering any of the ramifications of your response.

“Me? Why me?” Spencer asks, taken aback by your answer. Assuming you wouldn’t tell him since you’re heavily guarded when it comes to anything personal, he prepares for a change of subject. 

“Because you have a girlfriend,” you complain and add a fake gag from dramatic effect. Apparently, drunk y/n has no barriers and says anything on her mind. “Oh, I’m sorry,” you fake apologize, then say in a mocking tone, “Your fiancée.”

“Why does Maeve bother you?” Spencer asks calmly, wanting to get to the bottom of this. He secretly knows why but wants you to confirm it.

“Because I want to be your fiancée!” you exclaim in a tone that’s both serious and ridiculous. Intentional or not, you tighten your grip on Spencer’s arm and drawing nearer to him.

“You want to be with me?” he questions, noticing the increased closeness between you. Although he won’t admit it himself, he doesn’t hate your close proximity.

“Of course! Why wouldn’t I want to be with you? I’ve been your best friend for four years and you’ve only known her for 10 months.” You begin to flail your arms dramatically, making it harder to guide you down the street. Spencer stops and you both sit on a park bench. For the first time since you’ve been walking, he looks into your eyes. They’re wild and dazed, all signs of intoxication, yet still have their usual intensity.

“But she’s my soulmate.” he protests lightly, knowing how weak his argument is.

“Bullshit, does she know that you used statistics to help your high school basketball team win, or that you’re a poor shot and failed your firearm qualification?” you ask, getting almost as angry as you are drunk.

Taken aback at how much you remember of him while you are still drunk as ever, he tries to respond but can’t seem to find the words. He figured that you had small feelings for him, but didn’t realize they were this intense. There was a time where he felt the same and would have jumped for joy at this confession. But right now, it only saddens him and makes his heart hurt just a bit.

He could hear your heavy breathing slow as an awkward silence settles between the two of you. In a tiny voice, you confess, “I really like you, Spencer.”

“Y/n, I...” Spencer trails off, not knowing what to say. You cut him off with a sigh, already knowing the gist of what he would say.

“Don’t say anything. I may be drunk, but I’m not stupid. You love her so my declaration of love isn’t going to do anything.” 

“I’m sorry, Y/n.” Spencer apologizes genuinely. You look up at him and see the soft sincerity in his eyes. You sigh again and give a small, tight-lipped smile.

“What are you sorry for? The fact that you found the love of your life.” you chuckle dryly, unlike the drunken giggles a couple minutes ago. “I know I’m really drunk right now, but I like you. Maybe even love you.” 

“I love you, too y/n. If you said this ten months ago, hell, even one month ago, I probably would scoop you in my arms and kiss you.” Spencer turns from you a puts his head in his hands. “But I’m with Maeve now. I couldn’t just break off my engagement over a possibility.” Spencer declares, uncertainty creeping into his voice. Could he end his engagement for you? When he doesn’t hear a response, he looks up and sees you passed out on the bench. Mouth slightly open, you look blissful. Spencer picks you up bridal style and carries you to your apartment.

Waking up in a bed, you look around and realize you are in your room. Thinking back to last night, you are glad to find that most of your memories are intact, save for some minor details. “How could you say all that to Spencer?” you groan, full of embarrassment and regret.

“Hey, you’re awake.” You look up to see Spencer at the doorway with a glass of water and painkillers. He walks towards your bed.

“Not to be rude, but what are you doing here?” you ask curiously, wondering why he didn’t just go home. 

“I stayed in case something happened to you. It was also late and thought it was safer to sleep here. He replies reasonably and you hum in response. He sets the water and medicine on the nightstand. You mutter a quick ‘thanks’ and down the medicine. 

”Hey, sorry for last night,” you begin to apologize. You catch a quick twinge of sadness that you don’t know how to interpret so you choose a different route to take, “I must have been a pretty annoying drunk person.” You decide that pretending to forget everything is the safest bet.

“You don’t remember anything?” he asks, with a tone balancing between hopeful and disappointed. Did he want you to remember your embarrassing confession?

“Yeah,” you laugh lightly. “All I remember are the drinks and you grabbing me from the bar. I must have blacked out after that.” Luckily you’re an expert liar or else Spencer would have been able to see right through that.

“Oh, okay,” Spencer replies, shooting a quick smile before turning to leave. For some reason, it seems like he’s trying to escape your apartment as quickly as possible.

“Wait, Spencer,” you say. He turns back around and you ask, “Did I say anything weird while I was drunk?”

“No, just standard drunk person stuff.” he lies convincingly. “Bye, Y/n,” he says briefly before leaving. 

He closes your apartment door and slumps against the wall. Taking his phone out, he opens it to confront what he’s been avoiding for the past hour.

What do you mean we’re breaking up? -Maeve

[missjosie27]

Year 3 Part 10- Defending

Hello, everyone.

Welcome back to another chapter. As we last left off, Barnaby officially joined David's side and we get to see some of the ramifications of that today. Wonder what poor Merula thinks of that XD

Elora Dunn I made a Hufflepuff in this version as opposed to Gryffindor. Seemed redundant with a character like Ben already in that house.

Also in this chapter I will feature a small cameo from Chester Davies. My character is a Gryffindor so of course we don't see him that much but I head cannoned him to show up at some point so I hope I did him justice. It is a small bit of filler in here today but as with everything in my story, it's all about the small details and development. Two more to go for Year 3! Enjoy!

If it were any other Slytherin, the new addition to the cursebreaking squad might have been quite awkward. With Barnaby the fit was so seamless, it was though he’d already known everyone for years. Despite his reputation as being one of the toughest kids in school with a penchant for dueling, winning him over revealed a key aspect of his character: that in reality he was just a big softie.

Barnaby loved to duel and learn new spells, his physical strength was immense (as evidenced by being able to lift Rowan off the ground using one hand with ease) and he was already quite tall for his age. But he also carried many other previously unknown attributes, the first of which was that he had a way with animals. He took particular interests in bowtruckles and nifflers, being the only person who knew how to tame them. Professor Kettleburn was so impressed, he made him a full time protege in handling more dangerous creatures such as hippogriffs and even the invisible thestrals.

He also loved to eat and would consume so much food in one sitting that one of the prefects at the Hufflepuff table actually had to ask him to save some for the first years. But above all else, Barnaby Lee at his core was a kind person and despite not being academically inclined, had a simple way of expressing things that put a problem into perspective. Perhaps most telling was that he never truly desired to hurt anyone and would defend those he cared about with vigor.

He explained all of this to Penny in Herbology, who giggled at some of the stories.

“Honestly, I’m actually really glad you introduced him to us the other night, even if he consumed half the food on the table,” she laughed. “I know most people think he’s slow, but he’s so sweet. Chiara went redder than a strawberry when he complimented her necklace.”

The aforementioned girl proceeded to flush the same color.

“I did not!” she protested.

David rolled his eyes as he tended to his dried nettles.

“That’s just because you girls think he’s handsome.”

Penny gave him a playful swat on the head.

“It is not...okay maybe a little.”

David clutched his hands together in a girly, romantic gesture and began speaking in a mock feminine tone.

“Oh Barnaby Lee, he’s ever so dreamy with his green eyes and enormous jaw!”

That earned him a triple swat, this time from Penny, Tonks, and Chiara.

“Focus on your dried nettles, dears!” Professor Sprout called out spotting the mischief from her place at the center of the table.

“Sorry, Professor!” David called out and he added some water to his pot.

“He’s handsome don’t get me wrong, but he’s not my type,” Tonks commented.

“What is your type?”

The pink haired witch shrugged.

“Don’t know really. Haven’t thought about it much.”

“I know Penny and Chiara have been thinking about Madam Puddifoot’s tea shop,” David joked as he falsely gagged, while ducking another swipe from a giggling Penny. “Anyway, the point is, Barnaby is a good bloke. And he’s dead useful to have around.”

“I’m surprised you of all people have accepted someone from Slytherin so readily,” Rowan teased him, coming up behind him to borrow some soil.

“Hey I’m a pretty easy going bloke, I can admit when I’m wrong.”

“Except when it comes to Slytherin apparently,” Tonks teased, which earned her a splat of dung on her robes.

Despite the jokes, the more David was able to get to know Barnaby the more he could feel his animosity slip away. In fact, he almost didn’t mind when the Slytherins became the favorites to win the Quidditch Cup after trouncing Hufflepuff 400-70, the key word being ‘almost’. But there was a practical side to it as well. Upon learning her former minion switched sides, Merula was beside herself with rage and began embarking on a campaign to make both of their lives as difficult as possible. Her taunting became subdued but she constantly attempted to blow up his cauldron in potions, put a flobberworm down the back of his pants, and tried hexing him on more than one occasion in the corridors. It was a mark of frustration; she was no closer to finding the vault but the constant attempts at sabotage began to wear thin.

“You need to learn how to properly defend yourself,” Barnaby told him one day after potions class, a session in which Merula caused the fire underneath his cauldron to flare, which singed off his eyebrows.

“I already know how to defend myself, I’ve beaten Merula in every proper duel we’ve had,” he argued keeping his head down, trying not to let passerbys witness his eyebrow less state.

“Most duels aren’t ‘proper’, Dave. Especially not if Merula is the one starting them. It’s better to be prepared for all kinds of ways people will try to attack you.”

“How come she leaves you alone?” he bemoaned.

“Oh, she doesn’t,” Barnaby admitted. “First she yelled at me and told me I was a traitor so I don’t sit with her anymore. Then she somehow snuck into my dorm and put bulbadox powder into my sheets. I was itching for days after that...”

“-that’s good to know-”

“But you still have a lot to learn. Especially defense.”

“Bill Weasley taught me a few things,” David offered.

“Did he?” Barnaby asked with wonder. “I’ve always heard the Weasley family loved the color orange. Don’t know much about their dueling, though.”

“Er right...well Bill’s definitely talented there’s no doubt about that. Perhaps we could work together on improving.”

Barnaby puffed up his chest with pride.

“If there’s one thing I know how to do, it’s how to fight and teach others how to do it. Also I’ve always wanted to duel a fifth year!”

“We’ll get a spar going soon, mate,” David promised. “In the meantime, I need Madam Pomfrey to regrow my bloody eyebrows.”

It turned out to be solid advice. Though his offensive prowess was high, especially for his age, it turned out the third year Gryffindor did not know much about spells that would protect him from harm as well as cause it. This became apparent when both Bill and Barnaby bested him by simply using shield charms to block whatever he cast. In an effort to improve and become more versatile, he began learning defensive strategies and the application of the shield charm itself. The burly Slytherin also warned him that Merula and Ismelda were constantly studying in the library and by the fireside in an effort to gain an edge when the inevitable rematch occurred.

With Merula Snyde, it’s more like a never ending rematch

However, what he didn’t know was all of this was about to come in handy in a most unexpected way.

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

It all happened quite suddenly and quite by accident.

On an average Saturday morning in early April, David was walking back from his brother’s room after another planning session with Tulip when he noticed Argus Filch prowling along the usual route past the Transfiguration classroom. Though he technically wasn’t doing anything wrong, he still didn't want the caretaker to cast a suspicious eye towards him anywhere near the secret location. So he took a detour through the gardens instead.

Inside the viaduct architecture, he was idly wondering to himself how close Rowan was to breaking the final bit of code inside his brother’s notebook (as well as how pretty Penny looked in her new jumper dress and spring boots) when he noticed something peculiar and also a bit disturbing. Over by the large tree where some the older students liked to hang out, he noticed five of them were standing over a smaller, terrified looking girl who was practically trembling with fear.

Part of himself told him that it wasn’t his business and it was best not to get involved. But the sense of justice, always strong in his persona, prevailed and he made an abrupt perpendicular cut across the grass and towards the commotion. As he drew closer he could hear the dialogue, which only served to feed his temper.

“...didn’t mean to. Please, I don’t want to fight.”

“Shoulda thought of that before you nosed into an area that you don’t belong in,” one of the lead bullies said harshly.

“B-but it’s not your area,” the little girl argued. “It’s for everyone who goes to Hogwarts!”

By now, David had a better look. The girl in question was a first year Hufflepuff who definitely fit the part of someone traditionally ‘uncool’. Thick glasses, short, copper colored brown hair, an oversized sweater to couple with several books clutched in her small hands. There were five who were currently bullying the poor first year, three boys and two girls, at least half of which were from Slytherin and the other two appeared to be Ravenclaw. The leader was a sixth year he recognized as Hadrian Flint, a member of a prominent family of the same name, a brown haired, freckle faced boy with poor teeth and an upward nose that reeked of arrogance. Also present was Ismelda Murk for some reason, who looked as though she happened upon the scene and was along for whatever kicks she could find.

“Just beat it, kid,” one of the Ravenclaws said. “This is our spot. Don’t make us do this the hard way.”

“And besides, Hogwarts doesn’t belong to people like you,” Flint told her nastily while his Slytherin companion nodded in agreement.

“And who would that be exactly?”

His unannounced presence caused Hadrian to spin around and face his challenger. His face immediately became a pronounced sneer.

“Get lost, Gryffindor. This doesn’t concern you.”

“Don’t be shy, Flint. Let the whole world know what you were about to say. I’m sure it will be most enlightening.”

Flint took a step forward but was soon informed by his companion who exactly this Gryffindor was with a whisper to the ear.

“Ahh...the cursebreaker. Well how bout I cut you a deal since I’m feeling right generous today. You go back to your curses and I’ll go back to this curse. Sound fair?”

“She didn’t have any idea this spot is where the older students hang out. Let her go.”

Though Hadrian was taller, David was not about to back down. He knew the reason he was picking on this poor girl and despite being outnumbered was not about to let her become the victim of a borderline torture session like Diana Blishwick the previous year.

“Mudbloods like her don’t deserve anything except learning their place,” Ismelda spoke now, a vicious gleam forming in her cold, gray eyes.

“Shut your hole, Izzy. I’m not even sure what you’re doing here but I do know that Merula’s boots need polishing. Give them some extra shine, will ya?”

Ismelda pulled out her wand in retaliation for the remark but Flint told her off in equally harsh fashion.

“Stow it you greasy giraffe neck. Honestly you could be Snape’s daughter with that hair.”

David might have laughed had the older Slytherin not been as equally reprehensible. The Ravenclaw girl and boy (which were evidently a couple) didn’t seem as perturbed anymore, but the rest of the group was hellbent on doing something awful to the muggle born Hufflepuff.

“Last chance. Leave or you suffer just as she does,” Flint told him menacingly. Again, David did not back down, instead he crossed over and put the much smaller girl behind him.

“Don’t make any sudden movements,” he told her. “And stay behind me. What’s your name?”

“Elora...Elora Dunn,” came the frightened reply.

“Well, Elora...brace yourself.”

He turned his attention back to Flint, Ismelda, and the other three students that were there. The Ravenclaws did nothing but the other two Slytherins withdrew their wands and Ismelda’s evil smirk grew wider.

“Have it your way then,” the tall Slytherin shrugged. “Immobilus! ”

“Protego! ”

It was his first attempt at using the spell in an actual battle and the results were quite effective. An invisible, reflective shield formed in front of himself and Elora Dunn, causing the spell to ricochet and deflect right back at its owner, freezing his body in place. Within seconds, Hadrian Flint toppled over in a heap on the grass.

It was a victory but a short lived one as the other two Slytherins readied their wands while David still guarded the first year girl. Given his narrow position and the fact that he was protecting someone else he doubted he could fend off two more opponents at the same time. Thankfully, it was not required as suddenly a prefect arrived at the scene, recognizing him to be Chester Davies, who was also head boy.

“Enough! You will stop this now!”

The Ravenclaw couple hadn’t drawn their wands in the first place, but Ismelda did not comply, sending a common cold hex towards David which missed, though the other Slytherin did heed the order.

“I said that’s enough! Five points from Slytherin!” Chester shouted, pointing directly at the third year Slytherin, who reluctantly relented, her pale expression now extremely sour.

“What in Merlin’s name is happening here?” he continued to inquire. “Dueling is forbidden.”

His gaze settled on David and he knew the time to explain was now. He had never interacted with Chester before though there was a chance he knew of his cursebreaking exploits. Either way it was best to act quickly.

“I didn’t start whatever you witnessed,” he told him. “Flint and his goons were attempting to harm Elora here.”

The first year Hufflepuff peeked out from behind his back at long last.

“It’s true. He defended me when I thought I was about to be hexed. They called me a uh…”

The poor thing, David thought sadly. She clearly had not heard that word used against her yet. Anger flared within him knowing it wouldn’t be the last.

He mouthed the word ‘mudblood’ to the Head Boy, who’s face reeled in horror. Chester Davies, known for his mellow, taciturn demeanor then unleashed quiet fury, first on the Ravenclaw couple.

“But we didn’t do anything!” the fifth year boy protested.

“You still threatened her,” Chester said coldly. “And by standing by and allowing the other three to do harm you have disgraced yourself.”

“The little brat wouldn’t leave!” the girl shouted back.

But that only served to further their scolding

“You claim to be part of our house and yet have the wit and foresight of a damp rag. I will be reporting this to Professor Flitwick and I will recommend detention for a week. Five points from Ravenclaw.”

Chester then took the time to reluctantly unfreeze Hadrian Flint, who immediately leapt to his feet and tried to spin a tale.

“You all saw it! He attacked me!”

“Stuff it, Flint,” the Ravenclaw immediately shut down. “I saw you cast the first spell and I know the word this one used to describe Miss Dunn,” she said, indicating Ismelda, who looked as though she wanted nothing more than to kill everyone present. “Rest assured, McGonagall will be informed as will Professor Snape.”

Furious and belligerent, Flint spat on the ground, uttering, “Blood traitor.”

David thought Chester might blow a gasket (he knew he would have) but instead he coolly regarded him as though he were simply another stone inside the Hogwarts walls.

“Better a blood traitor than what you are, Flint. Now get out of here.”

The tall, lanky Slytherin heeded her this time and shuffled away with his companion. Ismelda had seemingly skulked off as well.

“I’ll handle these two,” Chester told him, as he too ordered his housemates away. “You see to it that the first year gets back to the Hufflepuff common room. You did a good thing today.”

Admiration increased for the Head Boy as David nodded and looked over to Elora, giving a kind look.

“Come on, let’s go.”

As they walked back towards kitchens, he noticed Elora fidgeting as though she wanted to say something. Eventually, she mustered up the courage.

“Um...what’s your name?”

“David,” he replied simply.

“Thank you, David for saving me back there. I wish I was brave like you.”

He stopped just before they reached the barrels leading to the Hufflepuff common room and knelt down to make proper eye level contact with her.

“Elora, you’re already brave. At no point in time did you move when those gits asked you too. There wasn’t a braver person today in all of Hogwarts.”

She beamed so much David thought she might shed tears over the books she was carrying. Then, her face became puzzled.

“What was that name that girl called me?” came the innocent but horrifying question.

David sighed, he’d hoped it wouldn’t come to him having to explain something like that. But he wasn’t going to pull punches either. Someone like Elora needed to know the intentions of people such as Flint, Ismelda, and others.

“You come from a family with no magical background. Therefore some that do think you aren’t as good as they are,” he said sadly.

“But why?”

Therein lay the crux of the issue: why . Truth was, he could give many reasons why but none of them could adequately explain prejudice. It was something you lived through, but nothing about it was logical.

“It’s complicated,” came his reply. “Just know this: you are just as worthy to study magic as anyone else here. Don’t let anyone tell you otherwise….also learning a few jinxes wouldn’t hurt either.”

“Can you teach me?”

Though he was a bit surprised, the innocent eyed look of this first year softened the dubiousness of his answer.

“Sure thing. We can find the time.”

Elora nodded and suddenly gave him a big hug, unexpectedly throwing off his balance.

“Ack! He...thanks kid.”

The first year tapped second barrel from the bottom in a distinct rhythm and skipped her way inside, but David didn’t immediately leave leave the area. He paused, willing himself not to drive himself into a fury over what just occurred.

Not all Slytherins are bad

Not all Slytherins are bad

David thought of Barnaby and how he was able to persuade him to change sides and the difference it made in his character. Or the eccentric Liz Tuttle helping him with potions ingredients. Then he thought of people like Ammon Lucian, Hadrian Flint, Ayla Yaxley, and Ismelda Murk and the pit of black vengeance returned, bubbling like tar ready to consume all who became entrapped in it.

As if to punctuate the conflict, Merula Snyde popped into his mind as did Liz Tuttle’s words regarding her

“Merula’s not all bad…well she’s mostly bad. But I know for a fact she’s had a hard life and she’s not always what she seems.”

He shook his head. What did she mean by that? He knew Merula’s parents were locked up in Azkaban but by all accounts she lived like a queen in Hertfordshire in the Snyde Manor. At no point in time had she ever apologized or bothered to show there was anything lurking beneath except vicious arrogance and deceit.

So why was there pain in her lavender eyes every time he beat her in a duel? Why was she so obsessed? What was it about him and his brother that Merula couldn’t let go?

David pushed those thoughts aside for now, having little time or patience to figure out the psychological ramifications of the house of snakes. There was homework to finish and another vault to find and break its curse.

If it took a few Slytherins, whether enemies or friends, to get there he would do so.

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

David never expected much to come of his deeds the previous Saturday. As far as he was concerned, the act of aiding Elora suited him just fine. They’d even scheduled a time to meet where he could show her a few spells. Come Monday, however, that changed.

While at breakfast with Ben, Charlie, and Jae (the latter of whom was chugging multiple goblets of milk on a bet) he was called to the head table by Professor McGonagall.

“David Grant!” she called out. “Please step forward.”

By this time, he temporarily forgot about what had happened and assumed whatever his head of house wanted was nothing good. Usually when they talked outside of class it was due to some trouble he’d been up to or the cursed vaults...oftentimes both.

“Yes, Professor?” he asked as he reached her place at the faculty chair.

“It has come to my attention that you were involved in an altercation last weekend involving a first year student and five others.”

David felt his heart quicken. Was she really about to punish him for doing the right thing?

“Yes...I was.”

But he need not have worried, for in the next moment she gave him a rare smile.

“Do not worry yourself, Mr. Grant. I know you were attempting to protect Miss Dunn from those who sought to make her feel unwelcome and unwanted.”

Her nostrils flared showing a subtle moment of anger before it vanished and she continued.

“Your actions are to be commended. Twenty points to Gryffindor for your courage and defense of those younger than yourself.”

Fear instantly turned to immense happiness as he reciprocated the smile.

“Thank you, Professor.”

“You are welcome. And do tell Mr. Kim that he will likely vomit if he continues in his high consumption of milk. I do not want a mess in the Great Hall nor in my classroom when it occurs today.”

“Yes ma’am.”

“I expect nothing less from one of my best Transfiguration students.”

He was sent on his way feeling considerably proud of himself for getting the normally strict and reserved Professor McGonagall to show not only a positive emotion but pride in him. And there was more yet to come. Before he could retake his seat, another familiar face confronted him, this time in the person of Angelica Cole.

“I heard what happened as well, David.”

“In case you were wondering, I earned twenty house points out of it so by your standards I should be showered with roses, am I right?”

Angelica rolled her eyes but her mouth twisted upwards in a smile all the same.

“Incorrigible as ever. But I want to echo McGonagall’s sentiments. Chester told me everything and what you did is precisely what our house is supposed to entail: courage, protecting those who cannot protect themselves.”

She paused before continuing.

“When we first met I thought you were going to be another troublemaker. But I was wrong. And I want to apologize.”

David was surprised, not necessarily by the apology (he and Angelica had gotten on fine this year) but the sentiment she was showing. There was a heavy amount of emotion in her eyes and an acute sense of something bigger at stake.

“Angelica, are you alright?”

“Do you know why I’m saying these things?” she asked him point blank.

“Because I’m just so naturally charming?”

“Because I’m leaving,” Angelica corrected, ignoring his joke. “I have less than two months left at Hogwarts before I graduate. And whether you realize it or not, you’re rising in seniority. David, I want you to take my place after I’m gone.”

He blinked a couple of times, hardly daring to believe his ears.

“I’m sorry, what?”

“I know it isn’t coming for at least two more years. But before I leave Hogwarts I’m going to recommend to Professor McGonagall that you be made prefect when your time comes. Through everything there is a quality you have that stands out: leadership.”

David couldn’t help but remain shocked at the ringing endorsement but there it was. He had gone from pain in the arse to leadership material in the span of two years. Nevertheless, he thanked his prefect sincerely.

“Angelica...this means a great deal. I can’t thank you enough.”

“Thank yourself,” she said smiling. “I told you at the beginning of the year that you were worth more than wisecracks and being Jacob Grant’s younger brother. You’ve earned that distinction and much more.”

The conversation ended as the seventh year was forced to quell a potential food fight at the end of the Gryffindor table and David rejoined his group but with positive thoughts to enjoy for once.

“What happened with McGonagall and Angelica?” Charlie asked. “You certainly seem pleased.”

“I dunno mate, they’ve appeared to take a liking to me all of a sudden.”

“Everyone likes you, Dave,” Ben reminded him.

“Thank you for the vote of confidence, Ben. But even my popularity has limitations. In particular with a brown haired, deriding, boot wearing, Slytherin girl.”

“Wouldn’t worry about her so much,” Jae replied, by now having stopped chugging milk though he still sported a white mustache as a result. “She ain’t exactly popular among her own house anymore. Most people find her insulting and cruel.”

“She can sit on a pin for all I care,” David shrugged. “Maybe I’m just becoming a little more mature.”

“That’s hilarious,” Charlie laughed.

“So is your bloody snoring even though it keeps me up at night.”

They continued to banter like this for the rest of breakfast when Rowan happened on the scene and right away everyone could tell he had stumbled upon something quite important just by the look in his eye.

“Rowan, you’re just in time to see whether or not Jae can light a fire from his wand with a fart."

But the joke either didn’t register or it paled in comparison to the news

“I need to speak to you,” he said directly to David. “Alone.”

Shrugging but also silently recognizing that something big was going on he played it off as though it were nothing to avoid arousing suspicion.

“Alright then. Lead the way.”

As careful and inconspicuously as they could, Rowan and David exited the Great Hall and into a private column within the corridor. Upon making sure no one was watching, the former of the two boys pulled out a familiar, leatherback, brown notebook.

“I did it,” he whispered. “I finally managed to match the half page to another message in the book and decipher it.”

This was indeed wonderful news and David could hardly wait to hear it. Excitement pulsed through his veins, barely being able to contain it.

“Rowan that’s amazing! Go on! What does it day?”

Proudly and pompously flipping to the correct page, Rowan read the information aloud but also in a hushed tone so no one would hear them.

“‘The entrance is the Restricted Section of the library. That is the source of the fear and the vault itself.’ ”

David ran a hand through his hair, ecstatic but also mentally kicking himself. Of all the places they looked, the one place they forgot was the restricted section?

“I know that look,” Rowan told him seriously. “Don’t beat yourself up. None of us here had any idea where the entrance was, even with your brother’s notes. But it doesn’t matter now.”

Drive and passion drove David to new levels of happiness and determination. They had managed to navigate through all manner of blockages, dead ends, and run arounds only to finally come through in the end. They knew where the vault was and now it was time.

“Time to break into this latest cursed vault,” he spoke aloud.