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iliveiloveiwrite · 4 years

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Late Fees // D.M.

Summary: Draco moves to a sleepy village after the war, wanting some time away. To keep himself busy and his mind occupied – away from the terrors lying in wait – he volunteers at the local library. There, he meets all sorts of characters. Mrs Taylor who has a love for trashy romance novels, Mr. Roth who is more than happy to be left alone with his books, and you.

A/N: A Librarian AU that absolutely no-one asked for.

Pairing: Draco Malfoy x Muggle!Fem!Reader

Warnings: mentions of food and drink, mentions of nightmares, flirting, pining, cuteness

Word count: 7k (this got away with me)

The sleepy Yorkshire village never changed. Perhaps that is what Draco liked so much about it. Routines established and set in stone; everyone knew everyone and what they did every day.

The decision to move to Yorkshire from Wiltshire had been made overnight. Draco had sat through another painstakingly awkward meal with his barely-keeping-it-together parents and decided that he had had enough. Draco had returned to his room; hands shaking as his mind raced through the pros and cons of his decision. He needed to leave; he had to – he was injuring himself further the longer he stayed, yet he had nowhere to go. The Malfoy name was not one to be greeted with open arms and warm smiles.

He had chosen Yorkshire for the fact that other than Neville Longbottom; he didn’t know of anyone from there. With Neville training under Professor Sprout at Hogwarts, Draco had high hopes that he would run into the Gryffindor there. He was not yet ready to confront the sea of apologies he owed Neville.

So Yorkshire it was and Yorkshire it is.

He had moved in the spring; the fields surrounding his sleepy village finally turning green after the winter’s frost, fresh blooms on the trees lending the air a floral scent. The house in which he chose was relatively smaller to that of which he was used, but that was what he wanted. He wanted a complete change from what he had grown up; from what he was accustomed to. Draco needed to shake up his life entirely and his three bedroomed cottage in the Yorkshire Dales would do just nicely.

It takes six months for Draco to become bored of the same routine. He wakes on the couch after another restless night, he makes his first coffee of the day as he cooks his breakfast and then he leaves the house. He tries to spends as much time as he can outside; believing the fresh air to be doing him the world of good as he follows the well-worn paths through fields and forests, the temptation to get truly lost almost too much as he ambles aimlessly.

It takes six months for Draco to give into the desire to find something to do. He needs a job, he tells himself. Not for the money – no, Narcissa Malfoy had ensured he would be set for life when he moved out. He needs to a job to keep his mind occupied; to keep his body busy and his mind on other topics so he doesn’t continue to focus on everything that happened before. The Second Wizarding War had destroyed so many lives, and he bitterly regrets the part he played in destroying those lives. The survivor’s guilt mixed with the guilt by association is a nauseating concoction that leaves him unable to sleep, paralysed with the fear of what his mind could conjure once his eyes slip closed.

The sighting of the job advert in the window has Draco feeling as if all his Christmases have come at once. It was on his daily walk through the centre of the village that he sees the sign hanging in the window of the small library. A place he hadn’t yet ventured for fear of the silence, but a place he would happily enter if it kept him somewhat busy.

He had rushed inside; striding quickly up the small ramp and grabbed the ‘Volunteers Needed’ sign from the window, barely stopping himself from slamming it down onto the counter.

It was almost laughable; his desperation for the job, but he didn’t know how long he could continue the same mind-numbing routine. He didn’t know how much longer he could explore the forests of Yorkshire and not want to scream; he had seen vista after vista, his breath stolen at some of the views, but he wanted something else. He needed something else.

The grey-haired lady behind the counter jumped as Draco cleared his throat. “Morning dear,” She greeted, “How can I help you?”

Draco pushed the sign across the counter, “I’d like to volunteer with the library, please.”

That had been that. Madge, the elderly librarian, was wanting to retire. She had been a volunteer with the library service for nigh on forty years; her love for books something else entirely as she dedicated her life to lending them to others. After a brief conversation over the role in which Draco would take, she had given him his start date and that was that.

Draco had left the small library feeling lighter than air. The usual pressure upon his shoulders and behind his eyes barely there as he sprinted home; wanting to write a letter to his beloved mother to tell her of his news.

-----

The library was situated in the centre of the village. On its left sat the only pub, a large building that exuded nothing but happiness as it opened at noon on the dot. On the library’s right was one of the few general stores – it held everything. In his first few weeks in the village, Draco found himself spending his money there rather than travelling to other towns and cities. It had everything he could possibly need.

From his position at the desk, Draco had the perfect view of the village green along with the sole church in the village that catered to nearly every single resident. Day in and day out, Draco sat happily at his desk, sorting through returns and library catalogues as he ambled through the aisles when he needed to stretch his legs.

It wasn’t a large library. He felt certain that the library at Malfoy Manor was twice the size of the one he finds himself standing in now, but nevertheless, he appreciated this one just as much. Books had been his solace for much of his life. The library at the manor becoming his safe space at the age ten to the age of twenty. He had never worried when he was there; he could find an escape in the pages of an ancient tome explaining the histories of spells and charms, or he could find solace in one of the risker muggle books his mother kept hidden away from his father.

He doesn’t need to spend too much time inside to know he loves it. It was an oddly shaped building; octagonal with a shoot off where Draco’s new desk sits. The shelves line the walls; each one titled clearly with its genre and then books sorted alphabetically by author. The building itself was just over a century old; having seen two world wars and survived to tell the tale like many of the residents of the small village.

As Draco wanders the library, running his fingers over the spines of much cherished books, he knew he was going to be very happy within these walls.

-----

Draco meets Mrs. Taylor on a Wednesday morning a month after he started working at the library. It had not been a very busy morning; Draco spending most of it going through the ancient catalogue system and wondering whether it would be worth it to apply for a grant with the local council to get a computer. He’s thinking of his very first day in the old library, staring at the shelves and shelves of loan records when a loud cough breaks him from his daydream.

“You must be Madge’s replacement?” A feminine voice chimes: there’s no hint of the Yorkshire accent that Draco has come accustomed too in his time up north. Her accent is southern, but whereabouts, he couldn’t place.

He smiles politely at the grey-haired lady. “That I am,” He confirms, “I’m Draco. How can I help you?”

The elderly lady doesn’t reply. Instead, she rakes her eyes from Draco’s face down his body, leaving him feeling like a piece of meat rather than a living and breathing human. She must like what she sees, Draco thinks, as she smiles broadly, stepping closer to the counter. She holds a hand out to Draco, expectant in his taking of it. Draco shakes her hand once before letting it drop as she introduces herself, “I’m Mrs. Taylor, dear. I’ve been visiting this library for nearly forty years now.”

Draco blows out a puff of air; impressed with Mrs. Taylor’s dedication to the library. “So you’ll have known Madge well then?”

“Oh yes, but I can’t help but wonder whether I’ll get to know you just as well too.”

Draco reels back at the obvious meaning to her words. He raises a single eyebrow at her tone, replying carefully, “I plan on being in the village for some time. I’m sure you will see me around.”

Mrs. Taylor nudges her rounded glasses further down her nose; resting them on the tip, “I hope I do.”

Not knowing what else to do, Draco laughs, “How can I help you today, Mrs. Taylor?”

Disappointment evident in her tone, Mrs. Taylor drops a tote bag onto the counter. The bag is full to the brim with books; all returns for Draco to sort through this afternoon. He has to resist the urge to give Mrs. Taylor hope in the form of a loud kiss on the cheek; she had just sorted out his plans for the afternoon to keep his mind deliciously numb from the panic that had started to creep in once more.

“These are all to be returned, lovie,” Mrs. Taylor states, pushing the bag closer to Draco in the effort to get their hands to brush like in the romances she adores so much.

“Thank you, Mrs. Taylor. Will you be taking anymore out while you’re here?”

She laughs; her hand on her chest as if Draco had asked the most ridiculous question known to man. “Of course, I always take out new books. I shall see you in a bit, lovie.”

Mrs. Taylor toddles off, her red polka dot skirt swishing with every step. Draco shakes his head, amused by the older lady before getting to work on her bag full of returns.

It takes three books to realise the genre Mrs. Taylor enjoys reading. He catalogues romance novel after romance novel; each with a title that leaves very little to the imagination. Seducing The Viking and Romancing The Cowboy make their way to the returned stacks as Draco continues to work on the bag of books.

The more books she returns, the more he gets an insight into Mrs. Taylor’s mind. Draco has nothing against romance novels; he’s read a fair few in his time, but he had never read books with titles such as Taming The Pirate and Teasing The God.

Hurriedly, he makes a mental note to visit the romance section of the library to get a peek at any further books with such titles. He could see exactly what the appeal was; half naked men with ripped abs on the cover promising romantic liaisons in the rudest of manners. He understood why they were so popular despite having not ventured into the genre himself, preferring classic romances like that of Elizabeth Bennet and Mr. Darcy.

Mrs. Taylor returns to the desk; her arms full of new books to read. At the sight of her struggling, Draco rushes out from behind the counter, “Let me get those for you, Mrs. Taylor.”

“Oh… thank you, lovie,” She responds, smiling, breathless from the walk around the library but also from the weight of the books.

Draco leads Mrs. Taylor back to the desk where he spies the title of the first book in her large pile. Bewitched By The Billionaire stares up at him as he writes out the title and stamps the return date in the designated section of the book.

To help, he places all the newly borrowed books back into her tote bag, smiling politely at the grey-haired lady as he does so. “There you are, Mrs. Taylor, I hope to see you again soon,” Draco comments, handing her the full bag of salacious books.

“It’s been a pleasure meeting you, Draco,” Mrs. Taylor croons; hoisting the tote bag full of new books onto her shoulder. She waves at him so flirtatiously that Draco cannot help but respond with a wave of his own as she leaves the library.

He feels amused long after the pensioner leaves; her overly flirtatious manner and her taste in books providing Draco his afternoon entertainment as he returns books to shelves and goes through catalogue records, trying to make some sense of the librarians that came before him.

All too soon, however, the light of the day fades behind the clouds as the sun sets. Draco releases a shuddering breath, going through his routine for closing up the library – making sure all records are locked away along with any money. He locks the door behind him, pulling down the shutter and shoving his hands into his jean pockets, setting off up the road in the direction of his home.

He dreaded this part of the day. In the daylight, he could keep himself occupied with the shelves and shelves of books, organising and recording. He could keep his mind busy, away from the terrors that lurked on the sidelines – waiting for the moment in which they could invade.

That moment is always comes. Draco tries to avoid it as much as he can; does anything he can to stave off the inevitable, but it always arrives, and it always catches him off guard.

Tonight, it’s as he’s sleeping. He’s pulled from a nightmare; scream lodged in his throat so tightly that his throat aches from the power of it. Tears trail down his cheeks as he tries to catch his breath; tries to slow his heart rate to an acceptable rhythm.

Draco looks around his bedroom; counting whatever he sees. Two bookshelves, one dresser, one wardrobe. He counts them all over and over again until his mind has cleared of the paralysing terror he had just experienced.

Nightmares came often. They started after the end of the war, and for now, it seemed like they were here to stay. It was never the same one, however. Draco had experienced so much trauma through the events of the war that his mind constantly replays them like a film; choosing a select memory and letting it play as he sleeps.

He settles his face in his hands, counting to ten as he inhales and exhales. He has to calm down; he cannot focus unless he calms down.

What feels like a lifetime later, he pulls his face from his hands, letting the inevitable wave of tiredness wash over his body. His body is tired; it’s dead tired and screams for rest, but his mind. His mind is awake and it’s restless. Draco sighs heavily, glancing at the clock on his bedside table, noting the early hour and knowing he would not be able to sleep anymore.

He flips on the light to the bathroom, turning on the shower before getting a look at himself in the mirror. skin pale save for the shadows under his eyes; whilst his sleep pattern had improved since moving away, there were still nights where Draco struggled to get more than three hours sleep. He tugs off his t-shirt, his eyes running over the pale pink scars that could not be wholly healed by Snape and Madame Pomfrey. The curse he had been hit with was brutal; only to be used on the worst of people and he understood why now. He had healed wonderfully; only a few scars remaining, but it would take longer to recover mentally from what had happened. His most common nightmare revolves around the pain he felt after the duel in the bathroom.

A shive runs through his body as he steps into the warm spray of the shower. Lavender is his body wash of choice as he squirts a large glob onto a sponge. He refuses to think as he washes himself; refuses outright to think about a thing other than what he needs to do next. Now you need to wash your hair Draco, grab the shampoo and wash your hair. Then you need to rinse off, Draco.

He talks to himself, getting himself through the aftermath of the nightmares just like he has always done. He brushes his teeth before leaving the bathroom; hoping that the spearmint of the toothpaste will overcome the acrid aftertaste of the scream that was lodged in his throat for Merlin only knows how long.

Draco dresses robotically; going through his list in his head to make it easier to cope with the fog that feels like it will be staying with him all day. He gets downstairs, only managing a cup of tea before deciding to head out.

The brisk walk to the library has Draco’s mind starting to clear. The early morning air tied with the frost has Draco startling awake even further, rejuvenating the blood in his veins and making his steps faster.

He barely looks around on his walk to the library; too used to his surroundings to be in awe of the rich landscape around him.

It’s why he freezes when he spots you.

You stand outside the library; breath nothing but white puffs in the air as you huff into your hands, trying to warm them up. You feel someone watching you; startling slightly when you catch Draco’s eyes on you.

You smile at him, “Please tell me you’re opening the library.”

Draco nods; holding up his keys as evidence, “How long have you been waiting?”

“Not long. Fifteen minutes at the most.”

“That’s not so bad if the weather wasn’t this cold,” He comments, unlocking the shutter and then the door, turning back to face you, “Are you coming in or what?”

You come back to life; dragging your eyes from the lithe figure of the man before you to meet his eyes with a sheepish glance, “Let me unfreeze and I’ll follow you.”

Draco laughs, he truly laughs. He opens the door to the library; glad to hear your footsteps following close behind him. Draco doesn’t take off his coat, he heads straight to the desk where he counts down the seconds for you to join him.

Timidly, you hand him your return. He takes it from you, automatically flipping to the record at the front of the book. “It’s two weeks late,” He comments; eyes wide, voice aghast.

You purse your lips, “I was hoping you wouldn’t notice that.”

His eyebrows raise in shock, “How could I not notice that when I have to check the return dates?”

You shrug, “I’m not sure, but is there any way I can get out of the late fee?”

“What?” Draco asks, voice loud and in shock once more.

“I’ve never returned a book late. This is the first time this has happened,” You defend, crossing your arms across your chest.

Draco hesitates, chewing on his bottom lip. He had seen the late fees waived before; had seen Madge’s notes in the columns of the records, but he had never waived a late fee before. He watches you; noting your body language as well as the dark shadows under your eyes that reflect his.

He nods twice, “I’ll waive the late fee this time.”

“You will?” You ask, your voice breathless, your eyes wide in shock.

“Yes, I will.”

“Thank you,” You say; repeating the words over and over as you smile widely at him.

Draco waves away your thanks with a motion of his hand; he’s simply happy he could bring a smile to your face.

With another smile, this one smaller – more genuine, you gesture towards the shelves, “I’m going to find something else.”

Draco nods, “Of course. I’m here to help if you need anything.”

You nod your thanks, turning from him and heading towards the stacks of books. Draco watches you walk away, unable to truly comprehend the conversation. He should have charged you the late fee; he knows he should have, but he took one look into your eyes and knew that he wouldn’t be charging you much of anything.

Clearing your throat, you bring back Draco’s attention. He smiles at you, “Did you find something?”

“I did. I’ve had my eye on this for a while,” You reply, holding up the cover to a fantasy novel, “I’m glad it’s finally available.”

Draco smiles, taking the book from you. No words are spoken as he records the borrow along with the date it needs to be returned. On a whim, he underlines the date twice before handing it back to you. You tuck the book in your bag; smiling gratefully at the blonde haired man before a laugh escapes your mouth, “You’ve met Mrs. Taylor, haven’t you?”

Draco averts his gaze; feeling the familiar blush creep onto his cheeks, “How did you know?”

You point towards the stack of romance novels behind him, “She’s the only one in the village to read them. Madge would order them special for her to save her travelling to the next town.”

Draco feels oddly touched on behalf of Mrs. Taylor; that Madge cared that much for her to order books to save her travelling so far. He smiles softly, “I’ll have to see if there’s any new that have been published to save her reading Seducing The Viking again.”

You snort, “From what she’s told me, that one is her favourite. She would love you very much though if you were to order some new novels for her.”

“I’ll have to have a look into it though she might love me already.”

A fond grin makes it way across your face, “She’s a regular flirt, but she means well. If you’re ever in a pickle, it’s Mrs. Taylor you need.”

“How long has she lived here?” Draco asks; curiosity getting the better of him.

“All her life. She was born here in the forties and never left. She met her husband, had her family and that was that. She was settled. She’s like the village’s grandma.”

“She sounds like she has lived a whole life,” Draco murmurs, hoping slightly that the elderly lady would pop into the library today so he could hear some of her stories. It makes him miss his parents bitterly; they had their mistakes, but they loved each other wholly with a passion entirely encompassing.

“She has,” You utter, “I have to get going, but it was nice meeting you…”

“Draco,” Draco supplies.

“It was nice meeting you, Draco. I’m (Y/N).”

“It was nice to meet you too. I hope to see you soon… minus the late fee.”

You laugh once more; promising him that there would be no more late fees. Draco watches you leave once again, shouldering the bag on your arm. You tug your coat tighter against your body, shivering against the bitter cold air.

As he watches you walk away from him, Draco briefly wonders how long it would be until he saw you again, and just how much he was looking forward to it.

-----

Three weeks later and the library is the busiest it had ever been. Not only does Draco have a slew of new orders to get ticketed and on shelves, he has three people wandering the shelves.

Mrs. Taylor returned first; her tote bag once full to the brim of her returns. She had shamelessly flirted with Draco some more, stating that it was his grey eyes that did the trick. She had never seen eyes like it. Mrs. Taylor grasped Draco by the cheeks and kissed him on the forehead when he showed her the new delivery of romance books. At one point, Draco swore he saw tears in her eyes as he let her delve into the new books.

Then entered Mr. Roth. Mr. Roth was a man he had only met twice in the whole time Draco had been working at the library. He was a man of few words; happy to keep to himself and his demeanour reminded Draco too much of his own grandfather. A man he had only met a handful of times yet knew he was happy to never meet again.

Mr. Roth nodded at Draco in greeting before making his own way to the military history section, browsing the titles silently and happily. Draco had left him too it; too nervous of Mr. Roth’s reaction should he be asked for any help.

For a time, it was those two. The both of them milling about the library, adding more books to their pile to be read.

However, they are soon joined by Madge herself. She smiles widely as she enters the library; rushing over to Draco to sing his praises for how well the whole place looks. Draco blushes something silly at her words; he hadn’t heard much praise through his life, had needed to for the perfect mould and was disciplined when didn’t. For Madge to praise Draco over the care he takes with the library, it isn’t something he’s likely to forget anytime soon.

Madge leaves Draco after that. She dawdles through the shelves, knowing the exact layout like the back of her hand. She spies Mrs. Taylor by the romances and Mr. Roth by the history section, but she herself, heads towards the classics. Having read them all multiple times, Madge was always happy to revisit her favourites whether it be Pemberley, Wuthering Heights, or Thornfield Hall.

All the while, Draco couldn’t help but hope that you would walk in through the door. He had met you once, spoken to you once but he longed to see you again. Twice now he had seen you walking past the library; earphones in and nodding your head to whatever song you were listening to. He had raised his hand both times, waving to you. You waved back, smiling gently to him.

He didn’t want to tempt fate; didn’t want to harbour feelings for someone he had only met once, but he couldn’t ignore the nagging feeling deep within his gut that you were going to mean something to him one day.

If only you would enter the library.

----

It takes another week.

It’s another week of wondering and wishing. It’s another week of nightmares and early starts.

At this point, Draco has been living in this sleepy Yorkshire village for a year. He celebrated by working late at the library; organising new stock and creating a new display depicting the best reads of the month as voted for by the residents of the village. He had unashamedly added Mrs. Taylor’s newest favourite book at the top; that alone had earned him a wet kiss on the cheek.

You enter the library on a slightly warmer day in March. The month had begun frigid and frosty, but now closer to the middle, it seems that spring had finally taken its hold of the village.

You enter with yet another sheepish smile on your face, an apology already falling from your lips as you hand Draco the late book. “I know it’s late,” You ramble, “But I really haven’t had the time to sleep never mind drop it off considering the commute to work and back and the weather.”

Draco stops you by raising his hand, “It’s okay. You don’t need to explain yourself to me.”

You chew on your bottom lip, “Are you sure? I really am sorry.”

“It’s fine. You don’t need to pay the late fee either.”

“What?” You ask; hand already reaching for your purse.

“You don’t need to pay the late fee.”

“Why?”

Draco sighs, “Can I be honest with you even if it’s only our second time talking to each other?”

You nod wordlessly; nerves beginning to settle in your stomach in response to whatever could come out of his mouth.

“You look like you have a lot going on right now. You mentioned the commute to work and back, but you also look shattered, so I get it. I get what you mean when you haven’t had the time.”

You blink, the familiar burn of tears starting at the back of your throat. “You get it?”

Draco nods, “I get it. I know what it feels like to be so tired you feel like doing nothing else. I don’t know why you’re so tired, and you don’t have to tell me, but if you need to talk, I’m here.”

He’s stretching his neck out. It’s only the second time he’s spoken to you, but he doesn’t like the way the shadows under your eyes are looking. They seem to suck any happiness out of your face, leaving you almost gaunt looking.

“Can I repay you?” You ask suddenly; voice determined.

“What? Why? How?” Draco asks in a barrage of questions. He doesn’t need repayment; he would never ask for such a thing in the first place.

“You’ve shown me kindness. Can I repay that?” You state; voice clear as it rings out across the empty library.

“How?” He repeats; still unsure as to just how you would repay his kindness.

You glance at the clock; it had barely past ten am. You smile at Draco, “Would you like a late breakfast?”

It takes him less than ten seconds to answer; of course he would join you for a late breakfast. Draco grabs his coat; scrawling a sign for the door stating that he would be back in less than an hour, but truthfully, he didn’t think anyone would be in today.

----

Breakfasts consists of a full English rounded off with a pot of Yorkshire Tea. You argue stubbornly over brands of tea; yourself choosing Yorkshire as Draco opts for another brand.

Conversation never stops flowing; any silence is filled with a question or a story that always seems to lead to laughter either from Draco or yourself. Draco sits through the whole breakfast with a smile; he hadn’t felt this good in a long time. He had spent such a long while dealing with the guilt he harboured for surviving a war he was on the wrong side of.

It’s over this breakfast that he realises he needs to tell you. He needs to explain to you who he is and why he is here. Draco could talk to you all day long about tales from his education and his childhood, but they would all continue to be half-truths if he never told you about the magic that flowed through his veins and made him capable of incredible things.

Walking back to the library after breakfast, he resolves to tell you if he sees you again. You hadn’t taken out another book so he doubted he would. However, the small voice in the back of his head and also resided in his heart hoped that you would so he could confess.

-----

Draco does see you again. You start to frequent the library; wandering the aisles in search of your next read but also to spend time with Draco. You would be lying to yourself if you said you didn’t find him fascinating and handsome, but he had an air of mystery around him that you were desperate to get to the bottom to.

A friendship forms. The both of you finding yourselves better matched for each other than anyone else; becoming close and confiding in each other when things seem darkest. You confide in him your deepest secrets, explaining the nightmares that hide behind the dark circles under your eyes. Draco confesses much of the same, but his desire to tell you about the magic he can wield remains on the tip of his tongue, turning more bitter the longer he waits to tell you about himself.

He tells himself excuse after excuse: it’s too soon, it would scare you off, he isn’t ready. In actuality, he is ready, and more than enough time has passed for the relationship to be so firmly cemented that it wouldn’t scare you off.

Yet he panics, and it keeps him up more often than his nightmares. How does he tell the one he’s closest to that he can form light with a whisper of a single word? That he can brew potions to not only heal but to incapacitate?

He hasn’t neglected his magic whilst he’s been in Yorkshire; he’s used it well enough. To dry himself off if caught in the rain, to send books back to their shelves if he’s comfy in his seat. However, he has always been wary of his talents around you, too worried about being caught out and destroying the one positive friendship he has had since he was fifteen years old.

Draco needs to tell you. He knows he does; he’s let his feelings get in the way of confessing who he really is and what he can do. His feelings for you hadn’t crept up on him; he had constantly been aware of his changing emotions. As the friendship progressed, he found himself wanting to reach out and take your hand randomly or wanted to tuck a piece of your hair behind your ear and then stroke your cheek. These hadn’t been the ponderings of someone who held platonic feelings; they were entirely romantic, and Draco wanted nothing more than to pursue that option with you, but he didn’t know how you would feel after he confessed his magic.

Truthfully, he didn’t want to tell you because he didn’t want to see the fear and disgust in your eyes as he had so often seen reflected in the eyes of witches and wizards around him. To see that in your eyes, it wasn’t something Draco could ever be prepared for.

How long could it last though? How long would he have with you before you sniff out the lie and the friendship falls apart from there?

Draco ponders these questions as he tidies up the library; new books on shelves along with freshly returned ones. The two questions float in his mind as the late afternoon turns into the evening and Draco readies himself for closing.

He startles slightly as you enter the library. You look lovely this evening, and everything Draco wants to tell you sits perched on his lips, waiting to be screamed into existence.

“Are you ready?” You ask, leaning forward on the desk.

“Ready? For what?” Draco questions, confusion lacing his tone.

You frown, “We’re eating at your place tonight? You told me to meet you here and we’d walk there together?”

Draco’s eyes widen as he suddenly remembers the promise he made you last week; to cook for you one evening so you could eat something other than pasta and noodles. “Of course I remember,” He covers, laughing nervously, “I was just messing with you.”

Your frown deepens, “If you don’t want to do this Dray, it’s okay, we can reschedule or something.”

Draco shakes his head rapidly from side to side. “No!” He all but shouts, “Let me grab my coat and my keys and we can go.”

You laugh; feeling the awkwardness that had quickly settled between you, “Are you okay, Draco?”

Draco nods: gulping as he herds you out of the door so he can lock up. “I’m fine, I just have something important to tell you tonight.”

“Tonight?”

He nods once more; the words stuck in his throat. The decision had been made; he would tell you tonight and then deal with the consequences afterwards.

The walk to his home is silent; nerves settling in both your stomachs as minds run into overdrive over what could be said tonight. Draco – terrified for your reaction. You – terrified for what he has to say, wondering nervously whether your feelings for the blonde had been too obvious from the beginning and he was going to put an end to your friendship.

It didn’t matter how often you visited his home; it would always leave you breathless at the sight of it. It had been a home you had admired for years, knowing the family that had lived there before Draco. They had moved to the next village over, wanting to downsize after their children had left home.

The large cottage had always been gorgeous but seeing Draco in a domestic element added more appeal to you. He takes your coat from you, hanging it up before doing the same, toeing off his shoes as he does so.

You expect him to lead you to the kitchen where you had watched him cook so many times before. An expert chef as demanded by his mother, you loved to watch Draco cook and bake. He could create marvellously tasty dishes from just a handful of ingredient – a talent you wished you possessed.

However, he doesn’t lead you to the kitchen, he leads you into the living room where he switches on all the lamps in the room without touching a single switch.

“How did you do that?” You demand, wonder and curiosity making your tone sharper than you intended.

“This is where I need to you to not lose your mind,” Draco whispers, his hand reaching into his back pocket and pulling out a long stick.

“Why do you have a stick, Draco?”

“It’s not a stick. It’s my wand. Hawthorn with a unicorn hair centre.”

You frown, puzzled, “A wand? As in a magician’s wand?”

Draco nods, “If you need to sit down after I tell you, I understand.”

“Tell me what?”

“I’m a wizard,” He states bluntly, no room for argument.

You laugh; it’s breathless from confusion, “I don’t get what you mean.”

“I’m a wizard. I have magic. I can turn on the lights in any room without saying a word or touching a switch, I can brew potions that heal injuries, I can fly a broomstick and I’m pretty good at it too.”

“So you’re a wizard and you can do magic?”

Draco nods, “Would you like me to show you?”

You nod wildly; the action sending your hair flying into your face. You push it away, not wanting to miss a moment of this.

Draco sends you a bashful smile as he holds his wand out, pointing it at a lone book on the coffee table beside the couch. In a clear voice, he calls, “Accio!”

In a single instant, the book flies across the room and lands in his outstretched hand. He holds the book up to you as evidence. Your mouth drops open; in shock at what you have just witnessed. Draco represses a laugh at the look on your face, knowing how hard it must be to comprehend all of what has been unloaded on you.

“Then why are you here? In Yorkshire of all places?” You ask, even more curious for his life in Yorkshire.

Draco sighs, “There was a war. I found myself on the wrong side and I saw too many people I know die. In the aftermath, when everyone was healing and starting to live their lives again, I couldn’t move on. I left home so I could start to heal and find myself, find who I want to be.”

“And have you now?” You ask; hope shining in every word.

Draco nods slowly, “I think I have. I think I’ve started to heal at last.”

“I thought you wanted to end our friendship,” You confess, your voice no higher than a whisper.

Draco steps closer to you; dropping the book and taking your hands in his. “Never,” He promises, then he takes a deep breath, “If anything I want more.”

“What?” You gasp.

Draco bites his lip, feeling the all too familiar blush creep its way up his neck. “I want more,” He repeats.

He waits for your response, desperate to know what you think about everything else he has just unloaded on you. You open and close your mouth a few times; words failing you. Draco starts to panic, starts to form the words to take pressure off you when you step forward and kiss him.

It starts as a gentle brush of lips, but then the pressure becomes firmer, and Draco starts to respond. He gathers you in his arms, tugging you tight against him as his mouth memorises yours and every whimper that leaves it.

Your lips part under his and Draco takes every opportunity to deepen the kiss; relishing every second of the kiss and the way you feel pressed up against him. Your hands find themselves in his hair; carding through the blonde locks before tugging gently, smiling against his mouth at the groan the action elicits from the back of his throat. His hands start to wander; memorising the expanse of your body as he dips you slightly, wanting nothing more than to lay you out on the floor where you stand.

He doesn’t. Instead, Draco breaks the kiss. Pulling away with one, two, three pecks to your lips, grinning widely when you chase him for more. “You don’t care that I have magic?” Draco asks, gasping from the kiss.

You shake your head; tears shining with happy tears, “I couldn’t care less. I thought you were going to end our friendship because you figured out my feelings for you.”

Draco reaches up; tucks a piece of hair behind your ear, “Never, darling.”

You feel your face flush at the use of your new pet name. Draco choosing then and there to refer to you only as ‘darling’ if your response what to be that every time.

He dips his head once more; kissing you for all that he is worth. Pouring every ounce of emotion he has in his body into this kiss; hands grip you tightly as your hands start to wander, fiddling with the hem of his shirt and skirting the flat plains of his stomach.

“One condition,” Draco whispers against your mouth.

“Name it,” You whisper, tugging on his bottom lip with your teeth.

He groans; low and throaty as he kisses you deeply, barely remembering to break the kiss so he can mutter, “No more late returns.”

The laugh that leaves your body has you shaking in Draco’s arms. He swallows your laughter with his mouth; silencing you effectively as he leads you back to the couch where he politely persuades you into no more late returns.

********

General (HP) taglist: @chaotic-fae-queen @theweasleysredhair @harrypotter289 @kalimagik @heloisedaphnebrightmore @nebulablakemurphy @figlia--della--luna @idont-knowrn @birdie-writes @big-galaxy-chaos @black-lake-confessions @annasofiaearlobe @imboredandneedalife @levylovegood @mytreec @haphazardhufflepuff @teheharrypotter @chaoticgirl04 @accio-rogers @starlightweasley @dreaming-about-fanfictions @lestersglitterglue @msmimimerton @obx-beach @izzytheninja @slytherinprincess03 @bbeauttyybbx @breadqueen95 @acciotwinz @kashishwrites @slytherinsunrise @kylosleftbuttcheek @remmyswritings @xfirstfemale-marauderx @they-write-once-in-a-blue-moon @ria-rests-here @superbturtlemakerathlete @inglourious-imagines @ithilwen-lionheart @now-its-time-for-a-breakdown @ilovejjmaybank

Draco Malfoy taglist: @the--queen-of-hell @minty-malfoy @obxmxybxnk @obx-beach @fallinallinmendes @ochrythum @gryffindors-weasley @kashishwrites @justmesadgirl @sycathorn-slush @dracomalfoyswifey @reaganwonders @lahoete @beiahadid @ravenclawbitch426 @detroitobsessed

#draco malfoy x reader #draco x reader #draco malfoy imagine #draco malfoy imagines #Draco Malfoy

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siswritesyanderes · 3 years

Note

How would the first meeting between Sadie and the founders be, what does he think of her???

Thank you for this question!

I want to say that Sadie and the founders meet at a magical library, but in Quite Harmoniously I said/implied that it's uncommon to see a lot of magical books in one place, unless you're very rich- which, granted, I made up for the sake of emphasizing the importance of Hogwarts and for character purposes, but I'd like to be consistent without requiring Sadie to be inordinately wealthy, lol.

So here's how I'm thinking this plays out.

Rowena goes to some wizarding dine-in establishment or gathering place to read in solitude; she brings a lot of books with her, and she forgets one when she leaves. Sadie finds the book, and on the inside cover is written something like "This book is the property of the Hufflepuff estate". (Rowena has borrowed the book from Helga.)

Sadie goes to Hufflepuff manor to return the book. The founders are still living in Ravenclaw manor together, like in Quite Harmoniously, but Helga's house elf sends for Helga to floo over, and she brings Rowena along as well, since she's the one who forgot the book. Sadie basically goes, "Hello, I'm here to return this book to you, but also I wonder if I could borrow it one day? The title sounds awfully fascinating." (It's the old-timey equivalent of a psychology book.)

Helga is enchanted by Sadie's politeness and ethics; she could have just kept the book long enough to read it and then returned it after, but she brought it straight back to her and asked for a chance to borrow it!

Rowena is enchanted by Sadie's clear interest in what most would consider a boring subject; she would love to have long, deep discussions about it with someone as engaged as she is. To discuss each chapter in detail...even debate the conclusions drawn...

Helga says that of course Sadie can read it, once Rowena is done.

Rowena says that Sadie can read it whenever she wants, as often as she wants; all she has to do is come and visit Ravenclaw manor, and she can read anytime, and Rowena will serve refreshments (Fidelius will serve refreshments.) and they can talk about it.

Sadie gladly agrees. She visits Ravenclaw manor nearly every day, and she and Rowena have a mini-book club. Helga sits with them, because she enjoys their energy, she likes seeing Rowena so happy, and...and she finds herself so transfixed by Sadie's animated, brown eyes, and her sincere smile (her lips!), and the way she periodically tucks her hair behind her ears...

While she's there, Sadie meets the other two.

Godric introduces himself pretty early on; if two out of the house's four human occupants are meeting with someone for hours, on an almost-daily basis, he would like to meet that person as well. It's that or bother Salazar. (Well, it's that and bother Salazar; he makes time for both.) He sits in on the little book club meetings and flirts, cracks jokes, or just zones out watching Sadie express her thoughts.

Each time she leaves the manor, he offers to walk her home, but she politely declines, saying she's sure she'll manage. (She's not even connected to the Floo network!) He preoccupies himself, wondering if she's in danger, or worse: meeting someone else! Someone (obviously) less handsome and chivalrous and clever than him, but she might fall for his wiles all the same, the poor thing.

He's much less distracted when he knows she's in the manor, taking about the human mind with Rowena.

Salazar doesn't introduce himself for a while, but he's eavesdropped and slipped covertly into the room before, so he's already developed an attachment to Sadie by the time she first lays eyes on him. He's even followed her home a couple of times. He likes that she's so smart and finds it endearing and almost funny that she's so principled. So bogged down by these abstract concepts of honesty and fairness, but not at the expense of intelligence. When he kisses the back of her hand, in greeting, his lips linger just a bit.

The founders begin to notice that they all have feelings for Sadie. After discussing it awhile, they realize that the current arrangement is inefficient; they aren't satisfied by their exposure to Sadie, and they aren't able to continue in their studies or their work at the preferred pace. So, one day, when Sadie visits to read, the refreshments are spiked with a sleeping potion. She wakes in a soft, expensive nightgown, in a soft, expensive bed.

When they explain to her that they have agreed to abduct her, she inquires about the nature of their agreement. She wants to know everything that they have agreed about, with regards to her. Eventually, Rowena hands her the treatise they wrote on the subject, and Sadie reads the whole thing. (They all sit in silence, watching her eyes scan the document. Watching her eyebrows periodically quirk in surprise. Silence, interrupted only by her intermittent sounds of interest, dismay, distaste, and bemusement.) When she's done, she says, "I would like to object to a number of these settlements. I don't think it's fair that I haven't been allowed a voice in this matter."

She isn't able to talk them down from kidnapping, despite her valiant efforts, but she is able to negotiate a lot more freedoms for herself. She can leave the manor at will, but she will be accompanied or followed by at least one of them, and they will always make sure she returns. In fact, besides the stipulation that she has to live with them, she can pretty much do whatever she wants. She can outright tell people in public that they've kidnapped her; they'll just obliviate those people when she's done. She's allowed to keep her wand, though Salazar does check her most recent spells whenever he feels like it. She does not permit Rowena to practice Legilimency on her, but she does agree to cast some of her memories into the Pensieve, for Rowena to see.

(Now, you may be wondering: Why have Rowena borrowing Helga's book instead of just having Rowena lose her own book, or Helga lose her own, or have Helga lose a book loaned to her by Rowena- since that would have gotten Sadie to Ravenclaw manor more efficiently. The answer is that I wanted Helga and Rowena to be directly involved in Sadie's return of the book, since I knew it would be so attractive to both of them, and I knew that Helga would be much less likely to absentmindedly forget a book in a public place than Rowena would, especially if the book were loaned to her. So while, for streamlining purposes, I would rather Helga have forgotten a book borrowed by Rowena, so that both of them could get involved and Sadie could go straight to Ravenclaw manor, I didn't think it in-character for Helga to make that kind of mistake with an object she does not own.)

#male yandere #female yandere #yandere founders #yandere gryffindor #yandere godric #yandere hufflepuff #yandere helga #yandere ravenclaw #yandere rowena #yandere slytherin #yandere salazar #sadie lily gilder #rule one sadie #yandere poly

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ascottywrites · 4 years

Text

Digging Deep in the Hat

...and going back in time to one of the first ships I ever sailed on, and no matter how long ago that was *cough* at least 15 years *cough* it seems to have picked up steam once again.

Funny how things go full circle.

Back to that Dramione life!!

**with an emphasis on the Ron Weasley Bashing element. (Just like I live for bad friend Scott McCall, I live for this and honestly, the way Ron is portrayed in the movies how could you not see some of this happening?)

The Peacock & The Otter by CarrieMaxwell (WIP: 67/? | 363,107) Ao3 Rated Teen and Up

Draco's always been drawn to Hermione in some way, he has for years and can't explain. It'd be easier if he could just get a moment alone with her to see why, but she's never alone! At the Yule Ball, Draco finally has a moment with Hermione and they share that time coming to a "truce". A battle of brains starts between the two as they form a friendly rivalry to excel in their classes. What started as a "make Weasley jealous" game becomes something more, quickly, and with far reaching consequences. With Harry's Triwizard Tournament taking much of the spotlight, and Hermione acting strangely with Malfoy, Ron's jealousy starts manifesting in ugly ways, until it causes a break in school tradition so shocking that people will speak of it for ages to come.

A story where Draco finds his redemption at the pivotal moment, deciding that helping keep Harry alive to prevent the resurrection of Voldemort is more important than bitter school rivalries.

The Silvery Light of the Amber Moon by Ghastly_lemons (WIP: 15/? | 46,948) Ao3 Rated M

Draco Malfoy has had a hard few years, forcing him to rethink a great deal about what he believed. One night when his father comes to him to celebrate what he sees as a wonderful plan, Draco realises that he has no time at all to stop it.

Patronus by TaraHarkon (Complete: one-shot | 1,399) Ao3 Rated G

"It is the decision of the Wizengamot that the truest test of a dark wizard is their inability to produce a patronus. As such, should Draco Malfoy be able to produce a patronus despite bearing the Dark Mark, he will be allowed to go free. The Wizengamot recognizes that this is a difficult spell and he will be permitted a year’s time to practice."

With that court decision, Hermione sets about helping Draco on the path to freedom and to the future.

The Quidditch Bet by Rumaan (Complete: one-shot | 7,116) Ao3 Rated G

Ron's desire for Malfoy's new Firebolt II leads him to make a silly and very damaging bet. How will Hermione react when she finds out? And just how is Malfoy going to use this to his advantage?

Bite First, Ask Questions Later by Daredevilsinthedetails, Kaylessi (Complete: 17/17 | 69,876) Ao3 Rated E

Their world was at a boiling point. Currently, 25% of the magical world consisted of born Alphas and not a single new English Omega had presented since Halloween of 1981. Aggression, possessive behavior, and battles for dominance between the Alphas were making magical Britain a relative warzone. A laundry list of nefarious deeds by one deemed to be light and the cure to all of their problems resting on the shoulders of three unsuspecting students…what could go wrong?

Disclaimer - obviously, we do not own any of the recognizable JK Rowling characters.

Cursing the Unforgivables by verdeveritas (WIP: 19/? | 114,215) Ao3 Rated M

Hermione Granger has been manhandled by a Devil's Snare, petrified, and has cleared the name of the escapee Sirius Black. After the death of her parents, she decides to take matters into her own hands. *Story begins after TPoA. This work belongs to JKR, and I don't get paid to write this.

The Deal by Scorpia11 (WIP: 30/? | 194,065) Ao3 Rated E

Hermione Granger is in over her head with debt, divorced from Ron Weasley & having obtained majority custody of their daughter she is in desperate need of a loan to avoid court & possible imprisonment. With nowhere left to turn she approaches Draco Malfoy with a contract in hand pleading for his help...which he happily gives for a price. EWE, Post Hogwarts, HEA, R&R. Warning Inside

I Left it Wet for You by dirtymudblood (Complete: 2/2 | 4,384) Ao3 Rated E

"I just don't understand. Why… why Malfoy?" She was scrubbing the dishes in front of her the muggle way, a habit she did when she was nervous, uncomfortable, or angry. And now, with her fiancé red in the face and not meeting her eye, she was all three. "He's…" From her peripheral she watched him run a shaking hand through his hair. "He's just everything I'm not. Everything I've always wanted to be."

Her Beauty and the Moonlight by BrilliantLady (Complete: 11/11 | 37,484) Ao3 Rated E

When Harry helps Hermione find out the horrible truth - that Ron has been dosing her with love potions - she is furious. She is going to get her revenge on Ron in the most hurtful way she can think of – dating the one man he hates above all others.

*This is actually part 2 in the series. Part 1 is great as well but it centers on a different couple. So...there we are.

The List by AureliaBlack90 (Complete: 10/10 | 70,526) Ao3 Rated E

After her divorce, Hermione decides to get out of town to recover from the pain of her lost relationship and the miscarriage she suffered a year previously. She arrives in the Cotswolds depressed and aimless but compiles a list of things to do that she hopes will help her get back on her feet. In the midst of her journey to find healing she keeps running into Draco Malfoy, who is nothing like she remembered him. He invites her into his world, and Hermione finds exactly what she was looking for - in the place she least expected it.

Shifts by LumosLyra (Complete: 7/7 | 57,893) Ao3 Rated M

After a particularly nasty fight with Ron, Hermione ends up shacking up with the three returning eighth year Slytherins where she finds herself inexplicably tangled up in the affections of two wizards. “Theo grasped Draco’s hand as the two of them watched her closely before Draco spoke to her in a calm, gentle voice. “You live with us now, Granger. Do you understand?”

*I couldn’t not leave this Tom Felton gif here...I mean...who can blame me? I could look at this on a regular basis.

#dramione #draco malfoy #hermione granger #draco x hermione #harry potter #fanfiction #fanfic #ficrec #10/10 would reccomend #ron weasley bashing #romance #rec list #recommendations #swoony #ao3 #kid fic #scorpius malfoy #granger x malfoy

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mariamermaid · 4 years

Text

The Queens Gambit

Ron Weasley x fem reader

Summary: Ron had been waiting for weeks for the upcoming chess tournament in London, but what if his title is endangered by a rookie…

Words: 4k

A/N: I think it´s pretty obvious where I got the inspo from, but in case you haven´t watched the show; I can highly recommend it! (That doesn´t mean you have to watch the show before reading though) I decided to add a few more characters from the HP fandom to make the story a little more entertaining. It´s basically like a little alternate universe story (but not really??)

“Do you have a clock?”

You shook your head as you filled out the form with your name and other information. It was your first tournament and as much as you were excited on the inside, you kept a cool exterior. In reality, your heart was pounding against your chest. You had counted the days to this precious Saturday midmorning.

“If you´re opponent doesn´t have one, we´ll loan you one. Play starts in 20 minutes”, the boy in front of you nonchalantly explained. He was tall, but his slack figure was loosely positioned on the wooden chair. His teeth were a little crooked and he barely looked up to eye you any further. “What´s your rating?”

You glanced up from the paper in your hand, furrowing your brows. “My rating? I don´t have a rating.”

“Have you ever played in a tournament before?”

“No.” Your voice was steady, but a slight annoyance grew as the rules of the tournament seemed to have decided to play against you.

“Are you sure you want to do this?” Starring directly at the boy, merely a man, in front of you, you nodded. Then you handed the paper back to him. “I´m sure.”

“Then I put you in beginners”, he sighed and shrugged.

“I´m not a beginner”, you argued, but apparently, that didn´t change anything. “Doesn´t matter, if you´re an unrated player, you go in beginners and people with ratings under 1600.”

A pause fell from your lips, clearly Merlin didn´t want you playing against actual contenders.

“Is it against any rule for me to play in the Open?” The boy with dark short hair seemed taken back by your sudden and quick answers, and he stuttered when answering. Maybe it was your confidence that startled him, maybe it was the pure attendance of a female.

“Not… Not exactly.”

“Then put me in the open.”

“There are three guys with over 1800 and Weasley might show up, you have no chance.”

You didn´t answer, leaving him sitting behind the desk. You weren´t sure, if he meant to spare you with good will, or simply feared that an irascible woman could ruin the tournament.

Neville Longbottom, looked at the paper handed to him and read out the name. “Y/n Y/L/N.”

When entering the hall, that was used for all kinds of events when booked, very few decorations fell into your eye. A few flags with symbols of schools or teams and a few goblets. Pieces of sports equipment were pushed to the sides for space. The tables, all fairly small with enough space for the chessboards, were placed induvial throughout the room. Boys, mostly around your age and older were talking to each other, while other´s sat down to study their strategies. At the back was a partitioning, that’s where the big players gamed.

Another boy, he seemed to be around your age with dark hair and round glasses joined you in eyeing the scene.

“Are the matches played random?”, you asked him quietly without looking away from the tables. You hoped for no unwanted attention, which was easier said than done. Especially giving the fact, that you were one out of two girls.

“No, they match it by ratings on their first round. After that winner play winners and losers play losers.” The boy answered. He seemed calm about his presence as well as his answer. He had clearly played before in tournaments. You nodded understanding, before walking to the first table assigned to you.

The second girl other than you, was sitting to your opposite.

You starred at the clock at the side of the chess board, you had never played with a clock. It annoyed you deeply that it made you look like a beginner. You were good and you were planning to win. The girl, black shoulder length hair and almond shaped eyes, noticed your look and offered you a polite smile.

“I´m Cho Chang. Each player has 90 minutes, after you move, you press the button closest to you. Then it´s your opponent’s turn.”

You didn´t want to talk much, you were there to play, but you appreciated her explanation. Then your eyes traveled through the room, just to find Cho´s again.

“Why do they put the girls together?”

“They´re not supposed to, but if you win, they´ll move you up. Have you ever played in a tournament?”

You shook your head slightly. “No.”

But she simply shrugged. “I´m sure you´ll do fine.”

“What about Ron Weasley, is he coming today?” Oh, the king of chess, at least currently.

You had read about him, his matches from his first years at Hogwarts. Even Dumbledore himself had praised him and the daily prophet had written multiple articles about him. You had studied his games, over and over. It was him, who you wanted to play.

“Yeah, he has to defend his title.”

After 20 minutes, Neville heard light steps approaching. Only seconds after, he found you standing in front of him again. “What do I do with this?” You hold up the paper from your match. It took every bit of effort to hide your happiness, the first game had taken a lot of weight off your shoulders. After beating Cho, you were more determined than ever.

“Is your match already over?”

“Yes, I won”, you shrugged.

“That was fast, circle your name and drop in the basket”, he muttered and you did as said. Neville starred at the spot where you had previously stood; something tingled in his senses. Maybe you would actually get a chance to prove yourself to the higher players.

You snuck through the rows of players still starring at their boards until reaching the dividers. Clearly, you were fast, faster than most of them, which gave you time to study the room further. But the interesting part was happening behind the dividers. You paused for second, before deciding to enter. Around the table was a group of people watching, within the crowd, the boy from before with the round glasses. It was your turn to join his side and watch the two seated players. By the red hair, you could easily make out Ronald Weasley himself. His green eyes were pierced on the board as he chewed on his lips. You had seen several pictures of him in the newspaper, but seeing him in person? It was a new excitement rushing through your veins.

“Is he a Grandmaster?”, you asked the dark-haired boy to your left. Curiosity had always been in your nature, it even more so, got you into trouble.

“He´s working on it, it takes time. You have to play a grandmaster to become one.”

“How much time?”

“Do you mind?”, Ron turned from the game, eyeing you with caginess. His green eyes pierced right through yours and you pressed your lips to a thin line, looking to the floor with guilt. Internally, you cursed at yourself, but the smallest part showed a weird reaction; Ron Weasley had taken notice of you. Not in the way you wanted, but maybe he´d remember you. Slowly, they all focused back on the game.

Weasley´s opponent, Blaise Zabini, had his arms crossed in front of the board. “Draw?”

Ron shook his head, he wasn´t cruel. However, the victory was too close and too easy for him. “No.”

Zabini sighed, watching as Ron´s Queen moved on the board to shatter his king. The art of wizard chess remained aggressively; how queens and rooks smashed and destroyed kings and pawns. It was fascinating to you.

Weasley clapped at his own win, just like the crowd, a smirk back on his lips. “Yes!”

The group around you echoed in further applause and you couldn´t help but feel a smile. The two of them shook hands, before Zabini took off in defeat. He tried his best not to show his disappointment and anger. Ron watched his tall figure leave through the crowd, until his eyes landed back on you. You felt a blush rushing into your cheeks. Did you said he´d remember you? He probably despised you already.

Avoiding his glance again, knowing you had already attracted unwanted attention, you swallowed. Ron on the other hand just realized the pretty girl, who had watched him…

The minutes and hours took by and one after one player was defeated by you. Oh, how you loved winning. Some might decline it as a weakness, but it was the drive that kept you going.

“That´s check”, you explained after successfully beating another man. He adjusted his hair, feeling clearly uncomfortable. You on the other hand, had found your safe zone.

“I know what it is”, he then replaced his Queen, which rose from her throne, before making her way to the newly assigned field. But you had already figured out his move and even more so, your own win.

“Draw?” He asked, nervously tapping with his pencil. You had placed your head on top of your hands, watching him closely. You shook your head.

“I resign”, he admitted.

“Dinner break, then three more rounds. Final round on Sunday 11a.m.”; Neville explained, while the players had gathered outside the hall to either chitchat or look at the charts of the past games. You eyed the chart; you had won four games already. Two games were listed above you, the next one was against Harry Potter. You furrowed your brows. “You said there were three people with ratings higher than 1800!”

Neville, the boy of drossy posture and crocked teeth, looked up from the papers. He had already guessed that you would complain. “Yes, that´s right.”

“I thought I´d be playing one of them.” Neville sighed, his love for chess, organization of tournaments and the clear instructed rules, were a little thwarted by you. “You don´t have a rating, consider yourself lucky.”

“How do I get a rating?”

“You play 30 games in the USCF tournaments and then wait four months.”

“But that’s too long! I want to play Weasley”, you exclaimed. The calculations in your head were fast and no matter how you turned it, time was your enemy. “If you win your next three games and if he does the same…”

“I will.”

Annoyed, you stepped back into the hall. You were ambitious to win. It was all you had and the potential price money lurked you even more. At home, nothing but your mother waited for you. Money had always been a big concern, she wasn´t even able to afford for you to go to Hogwarts. Everything you knew about magic; she had taught you. She worked two jobs to make enough money for food and rent and while she cleaned motel rooms, one of the guests that often stayed at the motel, taught you to play wizard chess; Mr. Lupin was an amazing teacher…

At the table of your next tournament, you found the dark-haired boy with round glasses. He awaited you and smiled as you finally sat down. “I´m Harry, Harry Potter.”

Besides your prior encounter, you had seen him talking to Ron Weasley and a small wave of exhilaration rose inside you. He and Weasley seemed close friends. “Y/n, Y/L/N.”

The game started with innocent moves from pawns. In between, Harry glanced up to you, checking. But you were sure of what you were doing. Minutes passed into the game and Harry started realizing that you were better than him, he didn´t show it yet, but he was well aware. Nevertheless, he was enjoying an exquisite game of chess.

You took his queen nonchalantly, which fell off the board in debris, and nervously licking his lips, he wrote down new notes on his notepad, before making his move. Your turn again, the rook.

Harry folded his hands, starring at the game. He pondered how to get out. After more minutes passing, a few people even started to watch you. They stood in the background, far enough to not make it conspicuous, but close enough for you to notice.

You moved your king and Harry sighed. “Merlin, Y/n, you´re humiliating my rook.”

“You won´t have to suffer much longer.”

Yes, you had it all played out in your head. Your win was safe and secure.

A smile was on your lips. Two further moves, and it was done.

He stretched out his hand in defeat and you took it. “Good game, you´re very talented.”

You shrugged as if it didn´t matter, but it did. To you it did. “You really are something.”

Saturday came to an end; you had won every single game. With your head tilted high, you stepped out the building. Fresh air flowed through your lunges and you took a deep breath. Suddenly voices echoed from your right; a few steps away Harry was talking to Ron Weasley. They chuckled in ease as they continued to make conversation. Ron´s back was turned into your direction, but Harry quickly noticed you.

“Hey Y/N! You played well today; do you want to grab a butterbeer with us?”

A bitter taste spread on your mouth; you had never even tried butterbeer. But all your savings had gone into the fee of the tournament and you already expected a long lecture when coming home. You shook your head with a polite smile on your lips. “Sorry, I have to get home.”

The two boys watched as you left, silence between them.

“She´s good, better than all the other girl´s I´ve seen”, Harry added and his friend rolled his eyes.

“Come on, Harry, just because she beat you, doesn´t mean she´s some kind of unknown genius. She doesn’t even have a rating.”

Harry shrugged innocently. “Whatever you say, but be careful, maybe she´ll even beat you.”

Ron echoed in laughter as he playfully punched his friend’s shoulder. “As if!”

Sunday came, Ronald Weasley was late.

“Mom, have you seen my shoes?”

“Ronald, if you just once tidied up you might find them at the right place!”

Ron wasn´t nervous, but as so often, he was running late. With the annual tournament of wizard chess, he was ready to defend his title as current state champion.

Finally, the shoes had been next to the dishwasher (probably Fred´s and George´s play), he threw over his jacket and made his way to the fire place. “Mom, I´m leaving.”

Molly Weasley, who always knew where every single one of her children was, came hurrying down the stairs. With swift motions she brushed away dirt from Ron´s jacket and then started fidgeting around with his red hair. “Mom!”, Ron instructed his mother to stop and hurried towards the fireplace. He took the floo powder and rolled his eyes as Molly started wiping away a tear.

“There goes my champion!”

You sat at the table, the same table where Ron had previously won against Zabini, waiting and growing impatiently. People around you waited as well. You couldn´t help but feel a deeper reluctance towards the conceited champion. Finally, you flinched as the door opened.

“Sorry, took a butterbeer on the go”, Ron added and held his cup high to show his evidence. You wanted to let out a sigh and roll your eyes, but you resisted to do so.

He took another sip before stretching out his hand.

“Ron Weasley, what´s your name?” Quickly, you shook his hand. Ron knew your name, Harry had told him, but he asked nevertheless. It was a rude tactic to make you feel smaller against him. You on the other hand wanted to begin, not waste more time. “Y/N, Y/L/N.”

He nodded acknowledging and the game started.

Five minutes into the game, he yawned.

It drove you insane. Did he do it on purpose? To make you lose focus? Or was he as underwhelmingly annoying?

He played confidential, not even thinking he could lose. It didn´t even take seconds for him to plant his moves. It intimated you and no matter how hard you tried not to show, the second yawn as you moved the pawn, did bring you to a slight stumble. Neville as well as Harry stood in the audience watching.

You felt sweat forming on your neck and cleavage, and strain pushed against your temples.

“I´ll be right back.” You jumped off your seat and hurried into the bathroom, leaving behind their confused faces.

Cold water ran down your hands and you placed the refreshing cool on your cheeks and neck.

Your eyes were pinned in the mirror, starring angrily at yourself. Running away from the game felt like an embarrassment enough, you weren´t ready to lose.

“Come on, you can beat him.”

Slowly, your stare wandered towards the ceiling. The chess board appeared out of your imagination and the figures stood tall, just like you had left them behind. Then, they started moving and each time you found yourself in an inescapable path, they pulled back into their initial position. Until…

As you sat down, you were steadier as before. It surprised Ron a little and he watched as you moved your knight to take out one of his pawns. His rook then took your knight and you followed by replacing your pawn. On and on. The game continued. You were dangerously calm and as you placed the bishop down, you watched his face closely.

Ever so slightly, Ron shook his head and the glint in his eyes vanished. Harry in the crowd had the smallest hint of a smile.

“For Merlin´s sake”, Ron muttered and his hand pushed back his ginger hair.

“I think that´s it.” Your tranquil voice didn´t help him at all, but it gave you the confirmation you had hoped for.

“No, I can get out of this.”

“I don´t think so.” Then you tilted your head to side, completely deserted. “Maybe, if you had gotten here on time.”

Ron´s green eyes pierced into yours, then back on the board. Oh, time could be a cruel opponent and right now, he was losing. He took another move, not wanting to admit it yet, but you sighed sounding bored and exhausted.

“It doesn´t work, I don´t have to use the Queen.”

It didn´t matter to him. This was now more and ever about his ego. “I´ll just cover it with the bishop and-“

“Move.” His voice was low and unlike his usual character, deadly serious. Harry had never seen his friend in such a situation and even though he found it alarming, what a terrible loser Ron was, he was happy for you. You deserved it.

You did as said, covering your queen, while his rook took one of your pawns. It didn´t help, all it was, was a desperate cry. Your rook moved right next to his King, which he placed further away, but then your queen came along.

“Do you see it now? Or should we finish this on the board?”

In disbelief, he shook his head once again. But this time, his eyes found yours in an amazing gaze. “For Merlin´s sake.”

The King was destroyed by the Queen. You had won.

The people around you echoed with applause and Ron clapped as well, gentle smiling.

It was useless denying it further, you had beaten him fair and square. Harry had been right, you were good and better than Ron.

He lifted himself off his seat and shook hands with you, a reassuring smile on his lips.

For the first time on this day, you could smile as well. All the worries and the lecture that lasted till late in the evening, had been worth it.

You defeated the state champion and you won the prize money.

“Y/n?”

You had planned to go home, your mother would be enthusiastic about the money, but Ron´s voice held you back. You were outside in the hall, hand already on the railing to the staircase leading outside.

“Do you want to grab a butterbeer with me now?” He sensed your hesitation and quickly spoke up again. “Don´t worry, I´ll pay. I guess I owe it to you”, Ron shrugged and pushed his hands nervously deeper into the pockets of his brown pants. He looked different than when seated behind the chess board, taller but less comfortable as well.

“I´m not sure…”

“Come on, you can´t leave me hanging like this after taking my title.”

A small chuckle escaped your lips and Ron noticed how well it suited your face. While playing chess and debating over strategies, there wasn´t much time to give away polite smiles or studying your opponent’s traits.

You couldn´t help, but feel how the reluctance towards Ron disappeared. He sighed relieved as you nodded agreeing.

The bar was only a few streets away, a side alley and the entrance to the magical ambience was hidden. The door opened as the front side to a large dumpster and lead a few steps down into the pub. It was cozy and due to the early time on a Sunday afternoon, still fairly empty. The bartender nodded towards Ron, they seemed to know each other.

“Two butterbeers, Dean.”

Together you sat down in niche to the side, a few plants hung from the ceiling and blankets and pillows laid on the armchairs in between. Chill jazz music played in the background and a house elf washed up used glasses. You imagined how the room was filled with people in the evenings.

“So, you never played in a tournament before and yet you beat the state champion?”

Ron was curious, which was understandable and you blushed at his question.

“A friend of my mom taught me how to play chess.”

“Really? He must know a lot about it, I imagine.”

“Yeah, and he gave me many books about openings and strategies.”

“I never saw you playing in the school tournaments, when did you start?”

You avoided his glance, starring down at the butterbeer Dean just brought to your table. The yellowish, sweet smelling liquid with soft foam on top.

“I don´t play for a school team”, you admitted quietly. The topic was hard to avoid, but you didn´t have many friends anyways to talk to.

“Well, I think you should maybe start then. They often travel together to other tournaments and-“

“I´m actually not going to a public school, I´m home taught.” You voice was louder now, but still shaking enough for Ron to realize your indisposition. He maybe was a genius on the board, but construing social interactions? Not his strength. Awkwardly, he scratched the back of his neck.

“Oh.”

An uncomfortable silence settled between the two of you and you decided to take your first sip to take off your mind. He watched carefully, how your face enlightened with joy. “It´s really good!”

Ron kept his assumption, that it was your first butterbeer, to himself and smiled nodding.

“Dean knows how to make one of the bests around here”, he paused before continuing.

“I admire you.”

“Excuse me?”

“Everything I know about wizard chess, I learned in school from my teammates. Actually, everything I know, I was taught in Hogwarts. But now you come along and beat me, you´re brilliant Y/N.”

“I always liked chess, it´s a whole world on a simple board. I´m not as good in other things, trust me.” You admitted, but his compliment spread warmth around your heart.

“If you want, I could teach you a few things about magic.”

Maybe Ron Weasley wasn´t the best teacher, but he truly wanted to see you again. Something about you was so charismatic and mesmerizing, he couldn´t help himself. To his luck, excitement was shown in your face. “That sounds amazing!”

When you had finished your beers and left the pub, Ron faced you again. The two of you had talked for over an hour and he was beginning to like you more with each minute.

The thought of Ron teaching you more about magic, made you enthusiastic. Maybe it was also the fact, that seeing him again, brought a tickle in your stomach.

“Well, I see you next week, Queen.”

You chuckled at his new nickname for you, it was a pleasant flattery.

“We will see how good your gambit is when it comes to dueling.”

#ron weasley imagine #ron weasley x reader #ron weasley oneshot #ruppert grint #harry potter imagine #the queens gambit #mariamermaidimagine

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magicalhideoutengineer · 3 years

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When you started working on this movie, did you have any idea that she had a long game to do five movies or did that come out of having fun so much fun working on this one?

YATES: Yeah, she's never written a screenplay before, so when she was working on the first screenplay, as we developed it, inevitably you go through a lot of revisions and changes, and you explore. It was really about helping Jo find the story that she was most passionate about telling. In that process, about 2/3rds through, she said, "I'm not sure I want to write the next one. This is tough." Then, towards the end of the process of delivering that first draft, she suddenly got into her stride and she suddenly found the melody that she wanted to present. That's when she said, "I'm going to write the second one and the third one." Then in the process of writing the second one, as we're doing it, the moment Jo's on her second draft of that has come this energy and this sense of these five stories. In the delivery of scripts one and two, there has grown this ambition for five stories, so yeah, it's kind of firing her up in a good way.

I’m sure seeing the characters realized on the screen so quickly, like Eddie playing Newt, I’m sure she must go, "Hey, I know what I else I can do with this character." She gets inspired by the movie, whereas in the books, you were almost always ahead of the movies in some ways.

YATES: Actually, you're right. There's a symbiotic process, because she had watched dailies. She'll watch a cut of the movie, and yeah, it's a symbiotic process, I guess. What's lovely for me is that Steve Kloves is involved, so it will be Steve and I working with Jo. She'll go away. She'll do a draft, and then she'll come back and we'll sit down and work on it together. Look at what's working, what's not working and generally get it to the place it needs to be got to. She's amazingly prolific. She's very pragmatic. She's a real worker and she loves to write. She loves that process of creating things. Last week I said to her, "Do this beat sheet--12 pages. Let's get down to the scaffolding. Let's look at the infrastructure. Let's look at the narrative beats and how each character is shifting act to act, just so we can look at the minutiae of it.” She couldn't help herself. She just gone off on 102 pages. She can't stop herself being that prolific really. Yes, it's been a great pleasure so far.

How hard is it cutting that stuff out? Is there anything you can talk about?

YATES: Very pragmatic. We're really ruthless. Honestly, you've got to find the best movie and the movie that feels balanced. We've taken out some key themes that we'll put on a DVD at some point, I'm sure. Jo, equally, very pragmatic. I phoned her and I said, "Look, I'm going to take out ..." ... There's a scene where Jacob is left by his girlfriend. He comes back from the bank. He's been rejected for his loan. He comes to the tenement building and Jo wanted to cut it out of the original script. I said, "Are you kidding? No, we've got to keep this. It's beautiful. Jacob being dumped by this girl because he didn't get his loan for his bakery." We shot it and it's a lovely scene, but in the balance of the movie, when I was working on it, it just felt spare somehow.

There's a few scenes like that that we took out, which just made the movie better. It's weird. Out of context when you watch it, it's absolutely delightful because Jacob comes home, the girlfriend is waiting. She runs down the street. She says, "How did it go? Did you get your loan?" He says, "No." She gives him her engagement ring and puts it in his hand and says, "I thought you were building a bakery," and walks off into the street. It is so beautiful. It's funny and it's tender and it's sad, but actually, by losing it, it gave the whole first act more momentum and you're so with Jacob at that point anyway. There's a few things like that we took out, though.

#fantastic beasts #fantastic beasts and where to find them #david yates #FBAWTFTInterview #jacob Kowalski #fbawtft deleted scenes

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chaoswillfallrpg · 4 years

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MOLLY PREWETT is TWENTY-SEVEN YEARS OLD and the JUNIOR UNDERSECRETARY to THE MINISTER FOR MAGIC at THE MINISTRY OF MAGIC. She looks remarkably like LILLY DREESEN considers herself aligned with THE ORDER OF THE PHOENIX. She is currently OPEN.

→ OVERVIEW:

The Prewett House is an established name in the wizarding community and this comes with high expectations and status. LUELLA married ADGER PREWETT when they were only twenty-one and soon after, the nurturing and kind Molly Prewett was adopted. The Prewett Estate contained a modest but elaborate mansion, a small garden and a quaint greenhouse. Adger Prewett worked in the ministry as the captain of the accidental magic reversal squad whilst Luella Prewett ran a healer shop in Diagon Alley. Molly grew up lavishly, and even when her mother gave birth to twins, a gene that seemed to run through the Prewett family as Adger had a twin himself, there was enough wealth to go around. Being part of The Sacred Twenty-Eight, the Prewetts were often invited to grand parties hosted by the House of Black, which Adger and Luella politely accepted. This often left Molly at home to care for her younger brothers, FABIAN and GIDEON which she did not mind at all as her brothers had become her best friends and found herself to be quite nurturing. As they all got older, they were soon invited to attend such events at their parent’s side and met many other prestigious houses along with their heirs, such as EVAN ROSIER and MARIANNE MACMILLAN. At first, Molly was shy and retracted, she wasn’t used to unfamiliar faces and she couldn’t read others as well as she could read her brothers, she wasn’t sure what was expected of her. Soon, however, thanks to the kindness of her new friends, she opened up and discovered that many of them were either going to be attending Hogwarts or had already completed their first year.

Knowing that there would be familiar faces when she would attend Hogwarts eased her nerves as the summer came to an end and her first day at Hogwarts grew nearer. She had become very comfortable in the Prewett Mansion, she knew every nook and cranny, she knew when her brothers were lying or when they were up to no good. She was used to falling asleep to the Tales of Beedle and Bard and waking up to the sunlight streaming into her cosy room. She wasn’t ready to leave that all behind to move into an old castle, a new room and to be surrounded by an ocean of people that she didn’t know at all. However, as much as this scared her, she couldn’t help but also feel enticed by the idea. A chance to really learn how to use her magic, a chance to explore who she really was without having to worry about what her brothers were getting up too and a chance to build greater connections with her new friends. Molly was soon sorted into Hufflepuff House and was greeted with open arms by the rest of her house, becoming best friends with fellow Hufflepuffs, NATAN DIGGORY and AYA FAWCETT. She grew to love Hogwarts and studied hard, her best subjects being charms and herbology, which was mostly due to her mother’s childhood teaching of different medicinal herbs and magical plants. This, however, did not stop her from knowing how to party, especially when her mischievous brothers were the ones hosting. As she grew older she surrounded herself with people she was proud to call her friends. Molly settled into quite a large friendship group consisting of a gaggle of Gryffindors, Ravenclaws and fellow Hufflepuffs.

Molly was the mum friend, constantly trying to bake and cure her friend’s hangovers as they lovingly accepted to tried to bat her away. It was through this group and sly introduction from her best friend, she met Aya’s childhood friend ARTHUR WEASLEY. A funny boy who liked Muggle things, Molly became quite taken with him and the pair quickly began dating, becoming quite the item in their little group of friends. Little did Molly know that these connections she formed would last so much longer than Hogwarts and grow into friendships she couldn’t have even imagined. After Hogwarts, Molly had grown into a very talented and confident witch, a very different person compared to her younger shy self. She didn’t really have a career plan in mind, she dabbled in the idea of taking over the healer shop from her mother one day as that was her summer job and she adored helping others and listening to the mystical and sometimes horrific stories of how her patients had obtained their injuries. However, Molly began to crave more, help more, and to be more. Arthur suggested she worked in the ministry and when the position for junior undersecretary to the Minister for Magic, MILLICENT BAGNOLD opened, she pounced at the opportunity. After an interview and an intensive aptitude test, Molly was awarded the position. She was extremely excited about the opportunity and took the job very seriously. She began to work closely under THIEBAUT LESTRANGE, who was her lovely yet stern mentor. The position allowed Molly to sit in many official ministry meetings and attend multiple VIP ministry events.

Her work consumed her and she really enjoyed it, she loved being part of something bigger that had the power to change the wizarding world into something better, a safer and inclusive place for all. Molly knew that not everyone shared her perspective, but she instantly bonded with those that did. As the years passed, the shadows within the Ministry seemed to grow darker and the cracks in the shimmering marble only seemed to deepen. The meetings that Molly attended adopted a sombre tone as reports of mysterious killings gradually increased and pressure was placed on the ministry to take greater action. The dark circles under Thiebaut’s eyes indicated how weary the powerful man had become and Molly couldn’t imagine how the Minister must have felt. Press conferences took negative turns out of nowhere and gossips such as RITA SKEETER seemed to find their way into the ministry like an annoying leak during a storm. Molly felt the pressure herself and was loaded with more and more paperwork, Thiebaut often handing off his own work onto Molly so that he could handle more pressing issues. Molly didn’t mind this at all and knew that if she hoped to be the senior undersecretary someday she’d need to learn how to cope with it all. Her work life put pressure on her home life and she began to lose contact with her brothers and parents. She stopped attending family dinners and the famous Fabian-Gideon parties at the Prewett mansion, she politely declined dinner invitations and after-work martinis.

Her close friends constantly checked up on her, either bringing her a fresh cup of coffee or insisting on having lunch. If it weren’t for Arthur, who was stubbornly supportive and insisted on breaks, she would have probably burnt herself out. Molly was ambitious and dedicated and had given her all to the job. She still strongly believed in the current ministry staff and her own vision of creating a better world for all. Her relationship with Arthur was one of the only constants in her life and she adored him with her whole heart. When he proposed she accepted without hesitation. Her life felt washed anew, and although she knew she’d spend the rest of her life with Arthur, she was ready to start this new stage of life with him. However, not everyone was as supportive of their engagement. Whilst Fabian and Gideon were ecstatic, her parents were not. They had tolerated her fantasy of being in a relationship with someone from a blood traitor family but had hoped she’d find enlightenment and move on. The engagement was a step too far, and it was promptly announced that she was no longer their daughter. Molly didn’t know if they acted out of anger or if her decision had truly made them lose love for her, but she was too proud and sure of herself to beg them to change their mind. The two took out a loan from Gringott’s and purchased a plot of land in the countryside with a single, small Tudor homestead located just off the banks of a picturesque river. She adored it and couldn’t help envision what a family would look like growing up there. The home was small but they could always add onto it assured Arthur and Molly adored the idea.

The newly-engaged pair began to host dinner parties in their new home and spent countless nights under the stars enjoying a picnic with friends or stargazing together. Although the attacks got worse and murmurs of a war began to float around and echo through the Ministry, Molly now had a magical place of her own to escape too. It wasn’t until a small dinner party with Fabian, Gideon and their friends LAUREL LINWOOD and TRYSTAN WARRINGTON that Molly had heard about the Order of the Phoenix. Her brothers admitted that they had recently joined and Arthur along with Alice and Frank filled her in with the fact that they too, were part of the order. Molly was taken aback by the information and that her fiance was in a secret society that seemed to be taking the law into its own hands. At first, she felt lied to and betrayed by Arthur, but once they had explained what the order was and who had orchestrated the idea, she found herself more accepting of the concept. She did, however, believe that the ministry was truly doing it’s best and that through their hard work, they were the best chance the wizarding community had against fighting a rising dark wizard and preventing a chaotic war. She politely declined their request to join the Order but agreed to keep an eye and ear out for any information that could keep Arthur, her brothers and best friends safe. She also vowed to herself that if she caught wind of any corruption within the ministry that she would stop at nothing to get to the bottom of it. Molly Prewett may be kind, nurturing and dedicated but she was also loyal and fierce, a woman to reckon with.

→ ADDITIONAL INFORMATION:

Blood Status → Pure-Blood

Pronouns → She/Her

Identification → Cis Female

Sexuality → Up to Roleplayer

Relationship Status → Engaged to Arthur Weasley

Previous Education → Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry (Hufflepuff)

Societies → TBD

Family → Adger Prewett (father), Luella Prewett (mother), Gideon Prewett (brother), Fabian Prewett (brother)

Connections → Arthur Weasley (fiancé/best friend), Aya Fawcett (best friend), Natan Diggory (best friend), Mafalda Hopkirk (close friend), Daisy Hookum (close friend), Keira Grey (close friend), Jennifer Vane (close friend), Laurel Linwood (close friend), Trystan Warrington (close friend), Constance Song (close friend), Giva Patil (colleague/friend), Amos Diggory (friend), Natasha DuPont (boss), Millicent Bagnold (boss)

Future Information → Future Member of the Order of the Pheonix, Wife of Arthur Weasley, Mother of William, Charlie, Percy, Fred, George, Ronald and Ginevera Weasley

MOLLY PREWETT IS A LEVEL 7 WITCH.

#molly prewett #marauders era #marauders rpg #marauders rp #neutral #ministry #minister for magic and support staff #magic #lilly dreesen #open #open witch #open neutral

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nuklearis-sutotok · 3 years

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Explain to me how it's so much better, so much so that you need three jobs to make ends meet when there isn't enough hours in the day and still have no hope of ever owning your own place even if you budget like some wizard and starve yourself, when working 9-5 for most people in your day allowed them a house, a car, retirement, no debt, no student loans, full education, sometimes multiple degrees like in your case, full course meals, medical, however many children you wanted... Do it. Make sense of the current state of things. I want to see it. Apparently I'm stupid or somethin'. Maybe I'm living on another plane. Idk.

#I've rarely gotten hot in the face talking to my own parents but...

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waiting4inspiration · 5 years

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Changed (Stephen Strange x Reader)

Summary: Your marriage with Stephen was never been a happy one and it only got worse after the accident. When he finally comes back after being gone for close to a year, he explains that he’s aware of his past actions and shows you that he’s a changed man

Warnings: little angst, fluff, implied smut at the end

Marvel Masterlist

Long shifts at the hospital are always energy-draining. But getting back home and finally getting off your feet is always a relief that you never get tired of. Even after being a neurosurgeon for over 5 years.

As always, you come back to a quiet and dark home. It’s been that way ever since Stephen left. Your husband. And since it’s been close to a year now, you have become used to having to switch on lights when you return from a late-night shift.

Only this time, there a side lamp in the living room that’s glowing brightly and you don’t remember leaving it on before you left. Slowly placing your bag on the ground and walking towards the light, your eyes scan around the room for any signs of an intruder. When your eyes land on an open photo album on the coffee table, your heart sinks into your stomach because you know who might be in your house now.

“You just got off work?” that familiar voice asks behind you, causing you to spin around and stare with wide eyes at Stephen standing a few feet away from you. “You don’t normally work the long shifts,” he states, taking a step forward toward you.

Shaking your head, you step back with each step forward he takes and fold your arms over your chest. “Well, I had to take on as many shifts as I can after you left,” you snap, your glare making him freeze in his tracks and drop his head between his shoulder. “You know, leaving me to deal with bankruptcy, trying to keep this house and fending off every single loan shark because of your vanity to try and fix your hands,” you hiss, letting your hands drop to your side as you laugh sarcastically. “What the hell are you doing here?”

He lifts his head to look at you. Noticing something different in his eyes makes you shift on your feet. “I know you must want nothing to with me,” he starts, blinking at you as he swallows nervously. “Especially after the way I’ve treated you in our relationship. How I’ve disrespected you...”

You laugh at his words and shake your head. “That’s putting lightly, Stephen,” you say, rubbing your hands against your thighs as you drop your head to stare the ground. “You belittled and mocked me, always looking at the things I did wrong in my career,” you point out, glancing back up at him as you bite your lip. “Do you even remember when I told you that I saved a little girls life when everyone else thought that she would die?” you question, Stephen going to reply but you hold up your hand. “No. You don’t. You only saw the things I did wrong, the people who I couldn’t save and you told me that you were ashamed of me because of my mistakes,” you add, wrapping your arms around yourself as you stare at him with sad eyes. “I had to do all that myself. And it made me wonder why I was even married to you in the first place if you were never there for me.”

Stephen sighs as he begins to walk towards you again. “I know. Believe me, I know and understand everything that I’ve put you through,” he says, feeling relieved when you don’t try to step away from him. “I’ve seen it all. With new eyes and a different mind. I’ve changed,” he explains, slowly reaching out to take your hand in his.

“What do you mean you’ve seen it?” you ask, lowering your gaze as he weaves his finger with yours.

“I’ve seen how dedicated you are to your career, how dearly you love me despite how I’ve treated you,” he explains, resting his forehead against the top of your head. “It’s a lot to explain but if you give me the chance, I will tell you everything,” he says, pressing his nose into your hairline, waiting for you to agree.

Pulling away out of his arms, you stare up at him and bite your lip. “You just left, without a word and now you want me to give you a chance?” you ask, pulling your hand out of his and glaring at him. “How can I take your word that you’ve changed?”

Stephen sighs, dropping his head as he shakes his head to himself. Lifting his hands, a golden glow surrounds them as a portal opens beside him. In this portal, a memory plays from when you and Stephen were still in medical school.

You both were so young and your relationship was still new, so you could keep your hands off each other. And it made studying hard. But still, the sight of the memory makes you smile and bring your hand up to your mouth in shock. Turning your head to him, he nods his head and closes the portal with a wave of his hands.

“So, you’re like some kind of a wizard now?” you question, folding your arms as you stare at him in shock.

He chuckles at your words, taking a step closer to you and shakes his head. “Time Master,” he corrects, taking your hands back in his as his eyes stare down at the wedding ring on your finger.

Following his gaze, you smile as he lightly twists the ring, your own eye staring at the gold band around his finger. Neither of you has taken them off for different reasons. For you, it has always been a reminder of the hope that you have that Stephen will come back and change. For him, at first, it was something that he was just used to having on. But then when he became the Master and saw how much he means to you, the ring became a reminder of your love - just like it’s supposed to.

“So, if you’re a Time Master, then you can see into the future?” you ask, stepping closer to him as you weave your finger with his. “Then you know what I’m going to do?”

He chuckles, his forehead touching his forehead with yours. “There are many things you could do right now. It’s your choice which path you choose,” he states, making a giggle roll off your lips and Stephen to smile at the sound. “I haven’t you laugh in a long time,” he whispers, leaning forward to place his lips over yours.

Letting go of his hands, you move your arms to wrap around his neck as you melt into his kiss. God, he hasn’t kissed you like this in a long time and it sends butterflies fluttering wildly in your stomach. He runs his hands down your sides, cupping the back of your thighs and effortlessly lifting your off the ground, making you wrap your legs around his waist. He hasn’t touched you like this in an even longer time.

Pressing your back against the nearest wall, he grips your hip roughly and deepens the kiss. He grinds his hips against you, making you moan into his mouth as you clutch onto the side of his face, his tongue slipping into your mouth.

As his tongue explores your mouth as if it’s the first time he’s kissing you, your fingers trace his bearded jawline before grazing down his neck, his own hands run under your shirt. “I love you,” you whisper against his kiss, running your hand down his chest and tugging at the hem of his shirt as the other hand rests on his shoulder. “I always have and I always will.”

“I know you will,” he mutters, pulling your shirt over your body before placing kisses over your collar bone. “And so will I,” he states, his breath against your skin making it erupt in goosebumps. “I will always love you,” he groans, helping you pulls his shirt off his body before kissing you passionately.

You can tell that he’s changed. That he’s not the same person he was before the accident and definitely not that same person that came out of it. You know this because of how the words come out of his mouth. They’re not forced or rehearsed. They’re sincere and spontaneous, but so full of love and feeling. Just how you dreamed they would be.

I didn’t want to add a smut because this is the first time I’m writing for Stephen Strange and I didn’t want it to be a smut XD

Tags: @tephi101 @rororo06 @flokidottir-imagines-br @mad4oak @nerdypisces160 @xinyourdreamsx @vikingaestheticsblog @xenavistania @medievalfangirl @simam12 @paintballkid711 @chameerah @momc95 @lucille-lovely @marvelmenappreciation @mother-of-fire-snakes @peterman-spideyparker @mywinterwolf @ultramagicaltacofandom @princessizzy36 @death-unbecomes-you @smolbeanthings

#doctor strange imagine #doctor strange imagines #doctor strange x reader #stephen strange imagine #stephen strange x reader #doctor strange #stephen strange #stephen x reader #the avengers imagine #the avengers imagines #the avengers x reader #requests

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thebattyqueen · 4 years

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Okay I found this on Pinterest but it made me think. Fred survives and they start dating in 1998 just after Hermione moves into her own place. One of the reasons for this was because she spent a month getting a TV working and being able to set up a VHS player. And the reason for that was Science Fiction.

Hermione loved Science Fiction growing up but stopped really watching it when she went to Hogwarts, then during her time back at Hogwarts she brought a bunch of Science Fiction novels with her to read as a comfort, they were so different from her life, no magic only muggle technology. When she got her own place and figured out the charms to get a TV and VCR running she bought the Star Wars box set and barrowed her dad’s Star Trek collection and began watching them went she got off work.

One day Mrs. Weasley asks someone to take her some food because Hermione has not been coming over as often as she got settled into her new place. Ron and Harry has to work, Ginny was exhausted after getting back from quidditch practice as she was going to try out for a team soon. Fred and George were there to drop something off and Fred offered to bring the food to Hermione. When he got there she did not pause or stop the movie so it was plaiting as she let him in with so much food she had to laugh. Fred was curious about what the noise was and she explained it. She then offered to start the movie over as it was the first Star Wars movie and she thought he might like it. He loved it.

After that they made plans to meet back the next week to watch the second movie and Hermione loaned Fred a few of her favorite Science Fiction novels to read. After they finished the Star Wars movies they didn’t stop they watched Star Trek and other Science Fiction movies and Fred went to muggle bookstores to find more novels and even recommended a few to Hermione. By September 1998 the two were very close and Fred had started working on a few Science Fiction daydreams to sell. It was after he was having trouble getting the spell to work with other people that he went to Hermione and they figured out that people were having trouble because they had not reference for Aliens or Science Fiction level technology. He then asked her to help with a new thing he and George were working on called shared Daydreams, play with your friends with out leaving you seats and the two pick one at random. The daydream ends with a kiss and when the two come out of it they end up kissing before breaking apart apologizing as the daydreams can leave lingering emotions. The two side step around saying they liked it trying to figure out if the other did as well before admitting they would mind doing it again and sharing another kiss happily.

After this they are dating and eventually tell everyone it is nice they complement each other. Hermione keeps Fred focused when he wants to work on his charms for the joke shop. She even helps him figure out how to help Wizards to daydream about Science Fiction, the answer is books with pictures, and helps him translate movies and TV shows into daydreams. Fred helps Hermione relax when she is stressed he always has a movie and a snack or meal ready when she gets home after a hard days work. He gives her something to work that is not Ministry related and the two of them get to go on dates to movies. They grow to like RomComs because they are sweet and can be turned into daydreams very easily making George think the two of them are creative geniuses.

The only thing that is out of place with this is Ron but I never really shipped them until the sixth book and that was where it their future relationship was really fleshed out but even then it could have not happened and all you have to do is not have them kiss in the seventh book and this opens up as a possibility. I will probably flesh this out more at some point

#hermione granger #fred weasley #harry potter #look my mind is a strange place #I am going to fill this out more #I need to think about Ron more

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aparecium-hq · 4 years

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Name: Ivy Blum Birthday (Age): November 23, 2002 (25) Gender (Pronouns): Female (She/Her) Blood Status: Muggleborn Hogwarts House: Hufflepuff Occupation: Teashop owner and Seer Faceclaim: Odeya Rush

Character Teaser

Growing up muggleborn and being able to read the future wasn’t a great combination. Her family called her peculiar, but schoolmates used another word to describe Ivy Blum: a freak. It wasn’t until she was introduced into the world of magic that Ivy realized how special she truly was. Over the years, she’s developed her skills both in school and out in the world, while overcoming any obstacle in her way. She’s even opened a tea shop, where she offers teas and readings of all kinds. You’ll either find her behind the counter or chasing a little girl around the tables.

Feelings on Magical Integration

Ivy is absolutely an integrationist. She wishes she could have a conversation with her mother about the wizarding world and not have to explain every little thing. She wants her daughter to be able to mingle with muggles and wixen alike, as she has roots in both. She has a very long list that goes on for ages, but it’s mainly because she wants her family to be involved and know more about the wizarding world.

Biography

Ivy grew up as the youngest of four, with two older brothers and an older sister; The oldest, Rowan, 32, working as a lawyer in London. He has two daughters and an amazing wife. Ivy and Rowan got along pretty well as kids but didn’t form that strong of a connection, considering Rowan is 7 years older than her. Next is Flora, 28, who doesn’t really work. Her wife is some sort of business CEO in America, so Flora takes care of their three adopted children. Flora and Ivy were very very close as children, and it lasted all the way to adulthood. They talk frequently and Ivy goes to visit at least once a year. Finally, there’s Oliver, Ivy’s twin brother. They were inseparable as children, but when Ivy received a Hogwarts letter and Oliver didn’t, he got jealous. The summer between second and third year, they had a huge fight that ended with both of them swearing to never speak to the other again. They’re both too prideful to apologize, and never stayed in contact after Ivy moved out. She knows he’s working in their father’s shop, and that he met a girl who he’s dating seriously, but that’s all her parents told her.

As for her parents, Daisy and Thomas Blum are the proud owners of ‘Comics & Coffee’, a semi-successful bookstore-cafe franchise in the UK and select locations in America. Thomas started up the company in the late ’90s, while Daisy worked full-time as a nurse, covering expenses that come with starting your own business. Eventually, in 2010, the company started gaining traction after the Avengers movie was announced, and people wanted to get back into comics more than ever all of a sudden. There are seven locations throughout the UK, and three in America. Daisy quit her nursing job in 2011 to help Thomas take care of business, and they’re both happy, despite the busy schedules.

Ivy was a peculiar child, even without the surprise magic. Her mother claims that Ivy rarely cried as a baby and that sometimes she would walk into the nursery in the middle of the night to make sure her daughter was okay, only to find her standing in the crib as if expecting her to walk through the door at that moment. “It’s almost like you could tell the future,” she would joke when she had a few too many glasses of wine and spoke of the incidents, but once Ivy started at Hogwarts and learned what Divination was, she thought maybe she really could tell the future. She dismissed it as coincidental, she was just ‘force sensitive’, as her father would put it.

These occurrences continued throughout her childhood, in very different ways. Sometimes a utensil dropping on the floor would make her suddenly feel the urge to ask when such and such would arrive, even though her parents hadn’t invited anyone over. Sure enough, their grandmother, or some other individual, would show up out of the blue.

Ivy was a very quiet child. She didn’t say her first word until she was 18 months old, whereas Oliver had started talking at a year old. She preferred to sit and color over running around the playground screaming and causing chaos. Her schoolmates would call her a ‘freak’ most of the time, though she didn’t quite understand how rude it was until she got older. When her mother asked her why she was so quiet, Ivy merely shrugged her shoulders and said “I don’t really have anything important to say.”

One thing, however, that did get Ivy talking was comic books. Ivy spent a good part of her childhood between the rows of her father’s shop. You could usually find her in the X-Men section, a pile of comics surrounding her as she essentially devoured the one in her hand. If you even brought up any of the X-Men, you would see her light up like never before. She felt a special connection with the X-Men series specifically because they weren’t just superheroes; there were kids and teenagers like her, who were just trying to figure out why they were different. Up until her 11th birthday, she thought her accidental magic was actually her mutant powers, and that once she got older, Professor X or someone would come to get her. That obviously wasn’t the case.

Because Ivy’s birthday is so late in the year, she had to wait 10 months after receiving her letter to go to Hogwarts. She was also a year older than everyone in her year, which was convenient in 6th year because Ivy turned 17 before most of her classmates and was therefore sent out on Firewhiskey runs for them.

At Hogwarts, she really ‘blum’ed (I had to do it at least once). Despite the initial disappointment that she wouldn’t be heading to the X-Mansion, Hogwarts proved to be almost cooler. She wasn’t much of a hat-staller, but the Sorting Hat did debate for a little bit on whether to put her in Hufflepuff or Gryffindor. It eventually decided on Hufflepuff, because her hard-working and loyal nature was more over-powering than her pride. As for classes, she discovered a natural gift for Herbology and quickly developed a love for plants of all kinds. If you couldn’t find her in the common room, your best bet was to search the Greenhouses, where Ivy was usually helping Professor Longbottom with some sort of plant.

Another class she found she excelled in was Divination. Professor Trelawney was well past her prime, but she did offer a starting point for Ivy, so she could slowly develop her Seer abilities as time went on. It was a nice distraction from the sadness of her fight with Oliver. Immersing herself in the world of Divination distracted her from dealing with her feelings. Ivy took the class every year for her remaining years at Hogwarts and found that no matter how hard the tried, she couldn’t get the hang of crystal balls or fortune-telling. She was very good at interpreting dreams, tarot cards, and tea leaves, however, which is why she calls herself ‘force sensitive’; She doesn’t visually see the future, but she can read the messages that the future sends.

After graduating from Hogwarts, she spent a year living abroad, trying to figure out what she wanted to do with her life. She visited wizarding and muggle villages alike, all across Europe. She made money by reading palms and offering tarot readings to anyone who would ask. She eventually found that she enjoyed doing just that, minus the nomadic lifestyle. She wanted a store, her own business, just like her parents. When she returned home, she told her parents about her plan; open a tea shop for muggles and wixen alike. Muggles can come in and enjoy a cup of tea, or purchase tea if they’d like. Witches and wizards can come in and ask to use the upstairs washroom. This would prompt Ivy to lead them upstairs, where there was no bathroom, and that was where she would hold all of her readings (palmistry, tarot cards, tea leaves, etc). Ivy decided not to offer her readings to muggles because of the Statute of Secrecy; she isn’t 100% positive, but if her gifts are indeed Seer abilities, she could get in serious trouble for using them on muggles. If she was lucky, they wouldn’t find out about her year abroad. Though her parents didn’t quite understand the magic aspect of it, they were happy one of their children wanted to start their own business, and they gave Ivy a loan so she could buy a place in London and get things started.

After a lot of back and forth with the Ministry, Ivy finally opened the doors of ‘Leaves’ in 2023, at the age of 21. Though she received quite a few wixen clients, she didn’t initially receive many muggle clients. People weren’t as interested in sitting and enjoying tea in a shop if they could just do it at home. Her muggle clientele has grown slowly over the years, but her primary customers remain witches and wizards.

She almost gave up her business in 2025, when she became pregnant with her daughter. She’d been seeing someone for a few weeks, nothing extremely serious. Ivy called Flora before she told anybody else. Flora told her to tell the father, which did not end well for Ivy. He did exactly what she thought he would do, which was disappear. After he told her she wanted nothing to do with the baby, Ivy called Flora again, only this time, she was crying harder than she’d ever cried. Flora couldn’t understand any of what Ivy said for the first half-hour of their phone call. Eventually, Ivy calmed down and explained the situation, which prompted Flora to grab her kids and jump on a plane. Ivy spent two weeks holed up in her apartment with Flora, the kids visiting their grandparents, and looking around London. During this time, Flora and Ivy barely spoke; Flora knew Ivy just needed someone there, and that she’d ask for help when she needed it. After two weeks, she finally asked Flora what to do.

They concluded that she couldn’t do this alone. Ivy had to hire a shop assistant, and she wouldn’t be able to offer her readings for a while. Eventually, she chose to hire [TBD], who ended up being a pretty good help. Ivy only showed up every other day to check in on them.

Although it was unexpected and a little inopportune, Ivy was ecstatic to become a mother. She gave birth to her daughter, Olivia Iris Blum, in October of 2025. Though she’ll never admit it, Ivy named her daughter after her twin brother. Even though she’s only two years old, Olivia is as energetic and excitable as Oliver was when he was a kid, which makes Ivy feel like she still has a part of Oliver in her life. Ivy and Olivia live in the loft above the tea shop, and customers often see the young girl playing on the ground behind the counter or under unoccupied tables.

Connections

The Assistant: Someone who’s been working in the shop for a few years now, and who is pretty close with Ivy. Ideally, a character who is hard-working and trustworthy, but I’m open to a sweet employee who is Doing Their Best™.

The Baby Daddy: The father of Olivia, who has recently come back into the picture. Someone a little flaky, but who’s also Doing Their Best™.

The Best Friend: Someone Ivy has been friends with for years. They’ve gone through a lot together, and will always have each other’s backs.

Ivy was played by Reagan.

#ivy blum #inactive original character

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carnegiemuseumnaturalhistory · 5 years

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Frontier History Wizards

White snakeroot blooming along the Allegheny River shoreline in early August.

Written descriptions for Carnegie Museum of Natural History summer camp, Wizard Academy, invite 8 – 10-year-old participants to experience a collision between “magic and science.” Based upon my recent experience with campers in the popular Harry Potter-themed program, the advertised subject could also include “history.”

During a discussion of poisonous plants with two dozen want-to-be wizards in the Hall of Botany, I drew the group’s attention to a display labeled “LOCAL SPECIES TO AVOID.”

The focus for my remarks was white snakeroot (Ageratina altissima) a straight-stemmed and flower-topped species in the display’s front row. I explained how the plant’s common name is an historic reference to its alleged value in treating snake bites, and that its designation as a plant to avoid was based upon on its connection to an often-fatal illness know as milk sickness.

The disease, which occurred when people drank milk from cows that had fed upon white snakeroot, was a scourge of pioneer life during the early nineteenth century, the decades-long period when settlement across what was then the American frontier dramatically altered vast forests west of the Appalachians.

One of the campers assisted my narration by reading from a handout about how Abraham Lincoln’s mother, Nancy Hanks Lincoln, died from milk sickness. When another camper asked how the plant-to-cow connection was “figured-out,” I confessed ignorance but promised to find out.

White snakeroot herbarium sheet, part of the Educator Loan Collection’s “Poisonous Plants of Pennsylvania” box.

Much of the life-saving credit, I learned, belongs to a pair of women whose friendship crossed conflicting cultures of 1820’s Illinois; a frontier doctor, and an elderly fugitive of the federal government’s forced relocation of the Shawnee to territory further west. The doctor, Anna Pierce, lost family members to milk sickness and, based upon observations of disease occurrence, promoted the avoidance of milk drinking between June and the plant-killing frosts of autumn. The relocation resister, known to settlers as Aunt Shawnee, took Dr. Pierce into the woods to show her white snakeroot and explain the plant’s lethal properties. Pierce then conducted experiments to confirm the plant’s toxicity and shared her findings with other doctors.

More than 70 years later carefully controlled scientific studies documented year-to-year and geographic variations in the toxicity levels of white snakeroot, but it wasn’t until 1928 that the plant’s toxic chemical, an alcohol termed tremetol was isolated in a laboratory. Today, largely because of better pasture management, milk sickness is not a concern in commercial dairy operations.

The takeaway lesson, kindled when a ten-year-old camper’s question illuminated a nearly 200-year-old ethnobotany story, is to more fully value the indigenous knowledge of the vibrant Native cultures that continue to exist across our country.

(Information source: Natural History, July 1990, “Land of Milk and Honey” by David Duffy Cameron)

Patrick McShea works in the Education and Visitor Experience department of Carnegie Museum of Natural History. Museum employees are encouraged to blog about their unique experiences and knowledge gained from working at the museum.

#Carnegie Museum of Natural History #Ethnobotany #Botany #Milk sickness #White snakeroot #Wizard academy #Summer camp

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cursed-minus-seventy-five-points · 5 years

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The Bookbinders

After the End, the machinery of society slowly ground to a halt. Like candles, the factories of the world went out, one by one, as replacement parts ran out, trained operators succumbed to disease, and raw materials stopped being delivered. Some lights of civilization refuse to be snuffed out, surviving on the ingenuity and traditions of the local people.

The Berryville Printing Factory is one such place. While its laser printers have long since been raided for their optics to repair energy weapons and other doodads, a lone screen printer has been repaired and maintained by the Bookbinders. Much of the 400,000 sq. ft facility has been converted into a combination library and barracks.

The Bookbinders is a collective of equals dedicated to the spread of literacy, the preservation of text in all forms, and the printing and binding of books. Its membership consists primarily of librarians, scavengers, teachers, and soldiers.

Beliefs

Information wants to be free. Secrecy is a vice, and documentation a virtue.

The world is about to recover. The so-called End of the World has proven to be a momentary disruption. As people turn back towards civilization, they will need the help and guidance of the literati.

The past is merely a tool for controlling the future. Dispassionate interest, not worship or scorn, is the right way to regard the times before The War.

Goals

To spread the gift of literacy everywhere. To educate and inform people so that they have the knowledge they need to take control of their lives. To preserve and proliferate knowledge, from before, during, and after The War.

Bookbinder Characters

Suggested Races: Humans, Elves, Half-Elves, Gnomes

Suggested Classes: Wizards, paladins, monks, bards, warlocks

Joining The Bookbinders

The first step in joining the Bookbinders is finding BPF, their base of operations. The Bookbinders are slow to trust outsiders, and never allow non-members into the facility. Often, a gift of a book not in their collection is a good way to get into their good graces. After establishing a relationship with them, they usually will ask you to do them a few favors in order to feel you out, such as escorting a teacher to a small settlement and back, or recovering some lost tomes from a dangerous locale. More important than the tasks is the feel they get for you; any member of any rank can veto adding a new member.

Even after joining the Bookbinders, you are not allowed to explore the facility without an escort until you have Renown 3 or greater, at which point you are offered room and board.

Personality Traits

Roll a d8

I love explaining my craft to whoever will listen.

I don’t mean to be so inattentive, I’m just often lost in thought.

I’m very uncomfortable when I don’t understand something. I often ask follow-up questions, and ask the people I’m with a great many hypothetical questions.

I like to play word-games; great speech illuminates the unspeakable by pirouetting at the edge of language.

I can’t stand secrecy. If you’re keeping something from me, I’ll find out eventually.

I like to read when things get quiet. If I can’t do that, I’ll recite poetry instead.

I am not long-winded per se; I just hate being misunderstood, and so I often resort to over-elaboration.

I like to pepper my speech with literary and mythological allusions.

Ideals

Roll a d6

Cultivation: There is much to learn, and not nearly enough time to learn it all in.

Education: The teeming masses lack the tools they need to be the masters of their fates. Those with the knowledge must show them the way.

Liberation: Knowledge belongs to everyone. It’s not our place to pick and choose who gets to know what.

Application: Book-learning is fine and good, but it’s useless until you put it in action.

Preservation: Anything that’s beautiful is at risk of being destroyed by bitter brutes. Sources of knowledge must be protected from backwards people.

Documentation: There are so many books yet to be written, lessons yet to be shared. It is not enough to safeguard dusty old tomes; new work must be produced and shared.

Bonds

Roll a d6

The Bookbinders taught me how to read, and I hope to pay it forward.

A parent or older sibling was also a member, who died trying to establish a presence at a far-off library.

I’m happy with helping to keep the printing press up and running, but I’d like to work on a bigger machine someday.

The Bookbinders published and distributed the book I wrote, for which I am eternally grateful.

I joined because I agree with their ideals, but sometime I worry that people will use what we teach them to hurt others.

I enjoy teaching, and being a member of the Bookbinders is a good way to find attentive students.

Flaws

Roll a d6

More than once, things I’ve taught people have had unexpected consequences.

There’s very little I don’t already know, and most of it isn’t worth learning anyway.

I’m glad I know how to do it, but, man, is reading books boring!

If someone can’t be convinced to part with a rare book, there are other means of acquiring it.

Sometimes, I feel like I’ve learned too much. I am incredibly indecisive.

Deception isn’t just wrong, it’s an admission of weakness. There’s no one so important or powerful that I need to lie to them.

Contacts

Roll a d8 for an ally, and another for a rival

An older relative is one of the Head Librarians.

One of the paladins has strong opinions on my worldview,

I’ve been assigned the task of feeling out a courier who wants to join.

One of the scavengers has taken to telling me about their adventures.

A sibling is an apprentice printer.

One of the members of my book club has received an important promotion.

A mechanic thinks the printer is sensitive to my presence.

The group has decided to leave the decision on whether or not to publish a book written by a local author to me. Somehow, the author has found out.

Rank and Renown

As your rank and renown increases, you’ll be given the opportunity to decide how the Bookbinders is run. Since formally all Bookbinders are equals, the ranks are informal recognition of your skill and dedication.

Rank 1: Fellow

Required Renown: 3

You are given free reign in their library, and are assigned a bedroom, to use at your option. If you happen to be around while someone is cooking, they’ll normally include you.

Rank 2: Learnèd

Required Renown: 10

Many of the other members consider you a friend. Your opinion on what’s worth spending man-hours on holds a bit of weight. Unusually sensitive, complicated, or important tasks are entrusted to you, and usually 1d4 new members are willing to help you out (use Commoner stats for this).

Rank 3: Literati

Required Renown: 25

At this point, your personal interests have shaped the priorities of the collective pretty seriously. You almost always know about anything that’s going on, and some members hang onto every word you say.

Rank 4: Genius

Required Renown: 50

The number of members who are more respected than you can be counted on one hand. You’re by no means a dictator, and if you try to push the group in a direction that goes against its raison d'être, the other members won’t turn on you, but they will worry about you. Nevertheless, at this point many are expecting you to encourage the group to push itself in a new and bold direction.

Special Roles

Scavenger

Required Rank: 1

Scavengers go out into the wilds to recover lost texts, document old technology, and interview remote geniuses. Scavengers are often loaned one of the collective’s few magical items, almost always something like Gloves of Swimming and Climbing or Googles of Night.

Educator

Required Rank: 2

Requirements: Proficient with two or more Int- and/or Wis-based skills

The other members consider you wise and intelligent. Sometimes, they’ll ask you to teach a class at some far-off locale, offering to lend you either a magic item or a bodyguard, your choice of either a soldier (bandit captain) or cleric (priest). Again, the magic items they have available at any one time is extremely limited, but usually includes Helms of Comprehending Languages or Wands of Secrets.

#Dungeons and Dragons #5e #duck and cover #faction

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