#hogwarts

[drabsyo]

witches & style

[mentallyadinonugget]

“but james potter was a bully””he bullied snape!!!” ok? someone had to do it.

🙄

~Here’s a list of good and shitty things Snape did canonically:

Bad:

•Snape was a blood supremacist who called lily a slur.

•invented a curse for enemies (marauders)

I don’t think a good person would make up a curse which mutilates someone terribly. That too, during his time in Hogwarts.

•oh yeah later on he became a death eater 😋 (the main goal of the death eaters wasto eliminate all muggle-borns in the wizarding world and establish voldemort as its ruler)(magical nazis basically).

Plus when voldy was going to kill lily, Snape was like yk what you can kill the husband and the INFANT just don’t hurt my lily flower teehee like okay james bullied him so him not caring about james made sense but harry was a child bro

•BULLIED CHILDREN DURING HIS TIME AS A PROFESSOR????? he was literally neville’s bogart ffs and not because “some teachers are just scary okay Neville was afraid of almost everything!!!” but because Snape bullied neville on a daily basis plus threatened to kill his pet after a failed potion thingy. plus he made fun hermione’s physical appearance (when draco made her teeth all big and Snape was like hah it’s the same there’s no difference) and he bullied for BEING GOOD AT ACADEMICS LIKE 😭😭😭???? He bullied almost everyone in Hogwarts I just know it.

•sectumsempra’d George’s year off.

•tried to out Remus Lupin as a werewolf for NO reason other than his childish misdemeanour.

Good:

•called Sirius and Remus an old married couple.

•saves Katie bell from a cursed necklace

•saves draco malfoy from a terrible curse that could’ve killed him by the counter charm “vulnera saneteur”

can someone guess which curse Snape saved draco from??? You’re right! It was sectumsempra!

•switched sides or smth

~Here’s a list of good and shitty things james did canonically:

Bad:

•called Snape snivellus (was funny ngl)

•bully snape

Good:

•turned into an illegal animagus at the age of 15 so his werewolf friend (Remus) has company during his transformations.

•took sirius black in after he ran away from an abusive hoursehold.

•SAVED FUCKING SNAPE FROM REMUS IN HIS WEREWOLF FORM AFTER SIRIUS SENT HIM THERE.

JAMES SAVED SNAPE.

•literally died trying to stall Voldemort so Lily and Harry have some time to escape or just live in general.

So my point is canon james was a bit of an asshole but he still did way more good deeds than Snape even though Snape was in all the seven books like one of the good things he did was literally the consequences of his own actions (healing draco).

All of this is canon btw. NONE of it is fanon.

sincerely keep my wife’s name out of your fucking mouth he did what should have been done.

cutie

[5sospenguinqueen]

Professor Sharp: Sebastian Sallow did what?

Nurse Blainey: I wouldn't let him see MC because visiting hours were over, so he wasn't allowed to stay... So, he punched himself in the face and told me he was injured.

Professor Sharp: Well, you have to admire his dedication?

Nurse Blainey: He broke his nose!

[rijsamurai]

OMG!!! I forgot about this art!! 🤪 Once upon a time I drew it for the "Dress Up / Transformation" challenge for a fandom event.

My idea is that sometimes Ron and Hermione, Harry and Ginny would switch clothes 💅 Just for fun

I love Ginny's outfits on Harry 😏 I think Ginny had a goth phase or something like that. Not for long, buuuuut 😏😏😏

[shanaraharlyah]

This is so funny to me.

[zordanna]

besties🌠

[since-apply-turn]

https://jennifer-230.ludgu.top/vn/zQYHnm9

[m0mmat0rtle]

Most of the characters in hogwarts legacy would have been alive during the sinking of the Titanic. Thats it that’s the post.

[dreamingofmarauders]

𝐖𝐡𝐲?

𝘾𝙝𝙖𝙥𝙩𝙚𝙧 𝙏𝙝𝙧𝙚𝙚

James Potter x Fem!Slytherin!Reader

Previous Part Series Masterlist

Summary: In which James gets to see your other side.

Warnings: Mentions of injury/death, crying, fluff (maybe…?)

───※ ·❆· ※───

James had woken up a few hours later, finding you still asleep. His stomach grumbled and he decided to get food for himself and you, for when you would wake.

He found the food prepared by Molly and headed back in only to find you standing, gazing outside through the window. James quickly set the food down.

“What in the world are you doing up!?”

You turned around and merely stared at him before saying, “Oh crap, how did I end up in hell!? I was supposed to be in heaven! Now you're going to annoy me for eternity.”

James narrowed his eyes, “You are not dead.” He answered before his eyes softened, “Please sit back down, you’re not supposed to be up and running just yet.”

You rolled your eyes, “Fine.” You replied but James noticed how you winced with each step you took, as the effects of the wound were still very fresh. You let out a small cry of pain as you dropped back onto the bed as the healing skin stretched painfully.

James immediately began to fuss over you, “Shit, are you alright? Where does it hurt? Should I try to get someone? Or should-“

“Potter, relax.” You interrupted him. “I’m fine.”

He nodded before handing you a plate full of assorted foods.

“Molly threatened me that you better have eaten this before she comes back in the morning to check on you, or she'll have my head.”

A small smile crawled onto your lips, “That would have been an amusing sight, but remind me to thank Molly.”

James pouted but bit back the remark sitting upon his tongue. Instead he voiced the one thought that was haunting him.

“Why?”

You paused, raising an eyebrow in confusion, “Pardon?”

“Why? Why did you take my place? Why did you save me from the spell and took the hit yourself?”

You sighed, setting your plate to the side.

“It was better me than you.” You answered, staring off into the distance as your mind traveled elsewhere. “You have family and friends that would be devastated if anything happened to you. And me,” You let out a cold laugh, “My family would celebrate my death, plus I guess so I would deserve it.” You voice cracked near the end.

“No you don’t.” James immediately said, kneeling in front of you. “Why would you think that?”

Your eyes glossed over, “I had vowed to protect someone I considered a younger brother, a-and I left him there in that cruel world.”

“Who?” James questioned.

“Regulus.”

“Regulus?” James asked in confusion, “As in Sirius’ younger brother, Regulus?”

You nodded in confirmation. “I took him under my wing at Hogwarts and although he had a hard way of expressing it, I know he loved me a lot too. He was broken after Sirius ran away from home, and I know it must have hurt even more when I decided to escape that dark world. I tried to take him with me, begged him, but unfortunately a small part of him was influenced by his parents. Plus, he was too scared to go against his parents.” You explained, eyes welling up. “I left him there when I shouldn’t have, and perhaps all of this,” You gestured towards your injured body, “Is just the consequences of my actions.”

James was reeling in with shock. Sure he had seen you and Regulus a few times together at Hogwarts, but he never realized you were capable of loving someone this deeply and loyally, and that you both shared such a huge bond. James had always been at the receiving end of hate. You would laugh at him, mock him, poke fun at him, tease him, give him glares, sneers and what not, but apparently that was just for him, and Sirius too.

He had never gotten the chance to witness this soft, loving and caring side to you.

It suddenly came crashing down hard on James. Remus and Lily were right about you. James truly had been wrong about you this entire time.

Your sniffles brought him back and he cupped your face, wiping the tears away with his thumb.

“Y/n, listen, you are not at fault here. I’ll tell you what I told Sirius when he was in a similar state. You had given Regulus the option, the opportunity to start a fresh life. It was his choice to stay behind, no matter how hard you tried. You can’t blame yourself, because you are not at fault at all.” James said, reassuringly. It seemed to somewhat work but you began to hiccup instead and James mentally slapped himself.

“I just wish he had listened and come along. It scares me for what he has to do out there, and I have no idea if he’s safe or not.” You said, shaking your head slightly. “I hate the world, why can’t everyone just be kind and happy? Causing wars and violence does nothing but destroy lives.” You rambled, clearly upset about everything.

James nodded but began to panic when more tears welled up in your eyes, "Please, please, stop crying. You literally have no energy and this is not good for you, please, please stop!" He rambled.

You slowly began to calm down, feeling even more tired and exhausted, with your head throbbing even more. Afterwards, James urged you to eat some more before you were to sleep again. You shot him a tired yet amused smile.

"What?" He asked, feeling self conscious all of a sudden.

"You hate me, remember?"

James suddenly flushed a deep red, mumbling something incoherent.

"What was that?" You asked teasingly.

"I don't hate you."

You arched an eyebrow, "Really? Well you had an odd way of showing it."

He went even more red, if that was possible. "I just- I'm sorry, ok!?"

You smiled gently, "Just because of what happened earlier, doesn't mean you're obligated or owe me something, you know?"

James stuttered, "Why did you behave cold towards me at Hogwarts?" He asked out of the blue, making you narrow your eyes at him.

"Because you made me a target in one of your pranks against Slytherin."

James frowned. Sure he had tried to target you a few times throughout Hogwarts but you had always managed to evade them. Somehow.

"Yeah, obviously you don't remember." You said, your tone tinged with bitterness.

It was your fourth year at Hogwarts, nearing the end as summer break approached. You were already running late for your next class and as you rounded a corner, a huge explosion happened, throwing you against the wall. You cursed and made a move to get to your class but found you were stuck to the wall. You used all your strength but ended up only hitting your head hard on the wall.

"Shit!"

You yelped as something wet and gooey poured onto your head, covering you from head to toe with it.

"Ew, what is this?"

However, before you could get an answer for that, another explosion happened and a huge swamp appeared, going up to your chest. To top it all off, fireworks erupted in the corridor, which finally attracted a crowd as students of nearby classes rushed out.

Two boys led the crowd, their faces looking eager. Although their smiles slightly diminished the moment their eyes landed on you.

"Aw, damn, this is just one snake! The trap was for a bunch of snakes, not just one pathetic Slytherin!" Sirius exclaimed, pointing a finger accusingly in your direction.

James snorted, "But still! Look at her! Such a loser!" The whole crowd laughed. Tears burned your eyes as the laughter echoed off the walls, people pointing and snickering at you. You looked down, embarrassment flooding your whole being. You didn't realize when Professor McGonagall pushed her way through the crowd, nor were you aware of when the swamp vanished or when you were free from the wall. However, tears began to cascade down your face as a sob made its way out of your mouth, when your face broke into hives.

You heard the corridor erupt into shrieks of laughs, all related to your current state. You managed a look up and saw the two boys behind this fiasco, practically rolling around on the ground as they chuckled. You felt hatred for them both. How could they be so cruel? You spun on your heel as the crowd parted for you as you ran and ran until you entered the Slytherin common room. You could see Madam Pomfrey for the reaction to your face after, you just wanted to be alone.

Regulus, who had returned from his class some seconds before you, looked up from his place by the couch, his eyes going wide noticing your state. He stood up and grabbed you by the arm to stop you.

"What happened?" He asked in concern.

"Those stupid boys! I hate them! I hate Potter and Black, they're just plain cruel!"

Regulus' face dawned with realization as a fire burned in his eyes. How dare they hurt you like that?

You shrugged off his hold and ran upstairs to your dormitory, to let out all the pent up emotions. Meanwhile, Regulus' face hardened as he watched you go. He walked out of the common room with determination. No way was someone going to hurt his sister and get away with it.

"And then Regulus hexed us, and kept doing so until Minnie stepped in." James said, completing the story for you instead as the memory came rushing back to him.

"Yeah. The humiliation was horrible and over the summer, I decided to hold a grudge against you two, so began the good ol' rivalry. Later on, as you boys began to change your ways, I felt myself softened but the constant back and forth poking sort of just became our thing." You finished saying, shrugging your shoulders.

"And Remus?"

"What about him?"

"How come you were on good terms with him?"

"Because he was not in on that prank because it was orchestrated by you and your idiotic twin. He felt bad and came to visit me in the Hospital Wing the following day and I appreciated that he was apologizing on behalf of his friends. We became close after that. Oh also," You said, a smirk making its way onto your face, "I only managed to avoid all your pranks meant for me because Remus would tell me beforehand."

A scowl crossed James' face, "That traitor!" However, his expression softened when he heard a chuckle leave your lips.

"Leave poor Remus alone. You lot gave him loads of trouble at school as it was, no need for more."

James grinned mischievously at that before his expression faded into a guilty one.

"I am truly sorry for everything." He sincerely apologized.

You shot him a grateful smile, "Thank you."

James rubbed the back of his neck nervously before extending a hand out. "You want to start over?" He offered.

You looked at him and then his hand. This was an opportunity for the pair of you to forget old enmity and begin afresh. You smiled, clasping his hand.

"Hi, I'm Y/n L/n."

James' shoulders slumped with relief.

He flashed her a bright smile. "Hello, I'm James Potter."

You giggled, "Pleasure to meet you stranger."

"Same here, stranger." He answered, earning another giggle from you, making his heart warm up.

You two had a long way to go but this new opportunity for a better start was something you both would later on be very thankful for.

════ ⋆★⋆ ════

A/N: Hey everyone! I hope you liked this chapter and see you in the next one! Take care! <33

Wizard Buddies (Taglist): @quack-quack-snacks @jamespottergf @themarauderswife7 @amethyistheart

[gracexthoughts]

of violent delights chap 21

the triwizard tournament

11 october 1996

Mattheo’s POV 

“Hi,” a small voice murmurs from my side and I look down at the ethereal vision that is Mia Potter in the morning. Her green eyes look up at me hazily, a sleepy smile on her lips, her auburn hair messily falling out of the bun she’d worn yesterday. 

“Hi, princess,” I smile, resting my coffee cup and sketchbook on the nightstand before laying back down and pulling Mia over into my arms. Mia hums contently, nuzzling her head into my shoulder. “How’d you sleep?” 

“Good,” she says through a yawn, “You?” 

“Like a baby,” I confirm, my fingers playing with a strand of hair falling out of her bun mindlessly. 

“Do I smell coffee?” She asks, turning so her hand rests on my bare chest and her chin resting over her scar so she can look at me. I nod and reach over to grab the coffee cup and hand it to her. She props herself up on her elbows and takes a sip and sighs happily. “You need to teach me how you make your coffee. Everytime I try it's practically herbal tea,” she says after she finishes the cup and I grab my wand and tap the cup, filling it back up with coffee, just to see the joy and wonder shine in her eyes. 

“The simplest things make you happy,” I chuckle, my knuckles brushing against her cheek. 

“Good coffee goes a long way,” she chuckles, offering me the cup back and I take a long sip before I rest it back on the nightstand. I lay back on the pillows, gazing at the woman in my arms with awe. “What?” 

“Nothing, just… I’m sorry about Elladora,” I respond softly, one arm behind my head and the other fiddling with Mia’s fingers, her nails painted a dark red. 

“Don’t be. I’m used to Lestrange and her venom,” she responds easily, weaving her fingers with mine. 

“You’re gonna realize I’m more trouble than I’m worth soon,” I chuckle, my eyes taking in the sight before me, terrified it's destined to fall apart even though it feels more right than anything has before. 

“I don’t mind trouble,” Mia responds with a soft smile, “It keeps life interesting,” she says, pulling herself up to hover over me. My hands immediately find her waist beneath the scarlet quilt, rubbing circles on her skin with my thumb. 

“Mia…” 

“Don’t,” she says, shaking her head, “Don’t try to talk yourself or me out of this, Matt. No one else matters, except us.” She leans down as her forehead connects with mine, her arms bending so she’s laying directly on top of me. “No one else changes this,” she whispers, her fingers running through my hair. 

“You’re right,” I mutter with a nod and she moves her head back to look at me. 

“I usually am,” she winks with a smile. I smile and pull her closer again; our lips connecting again as I roll us over so I’m on top of Mia, pinning her beneath me. 

“Hm, of course you are, princess,” I say lowly in her ear before my lips trail a line down the soft skin of her neck, the faded smell of perfume and smoke lingering on her skin. Mia lets out a soft gasp, her hands exploring the expanse of my back, sending chills up my spine, and I wish I could stay here in this moment for the rest of my life, this woman in my arms as we ignore the rest of the world. 

✦

Euphemia’s POV

“Hey, can I talk to you?” I ask, twisting my ring anxiously. Fred looks up from some small invention in his fingers, his eyes catching on my hands, and nods. Even though Mrs. Weasley threw away all their order forms and inventions for Weasley Wizarding Wheezes, George and Fred have stayed determined. I sit on the couch and sigh. “I have to tell you something and I don’t want you to get mad at me. Or get even more mad at me than you already are.” Fred’s hands stop fiddling and he looks up again at me, his eyes distant. 

“Let me guess, you and Riddle are officially together,” he says bluntly. He’s always known me better than anyone else, able to read me easily. 

“Yeah… I wanted you to hear it from me first and I know you don’t approve and I also can’t stand that you’re mad at me but I’m also not going to stop seeing him so we need to figure out where we go from here. I know you hate him and you don’t have to like him but I need you to at least try to give him a chance. Just try to tolerate him at least, please. That’s all I’m asking, Freddie. You’re my best friend and I just need you to try because you being mad at me is driving me crazy,” I say, quickly running through all the things I decided I needed to say to him. 

“He’s going to fuck everything up, Mia. Your happiness, your reputation, you-” 

“Well it’s mine to ruin! I’m happy now and I don’t care about what anyone else in the world thinks. It’s not my fault everyone else has unrealistic expectations of me,” I interrupt him, beyond tired of being expected to live up to this perfect, innocent little girl idea everyone wants me to be. 

“This isn’t you!” Fred says, waving his hands wildly. 

“Yes, it is, don’t you see?! For probably the first time in my life this is completely and totally me. What I want, not what’s best for Harry or what I think everyone else wants for me, just what I want. I’m tired, Freddie. I’m tired of doing what I think I’m supposed to do or what everyone else says to.” I say exasperated and pleading with him to understand. Fred watches me for a long moment, his eyes looking at me like I’m an invention he can’t get to work properly. “Just once, I want to do what I want.”

“You really like him, don’t you?” He says finally, his eyes softer than they were before. 

“Yeah,” I say, so quietly it's almost a whisper, “I do.” Fred nods, setting the small box he was working on down and his eyes finally find mine. 

“If he hurts you, George and I will make him pay for it,” he says matter of factly, as if he was commenting on the weather. I can’t help but laugh a little. 

“Harry said the same thing so I’m sure he’d be willing to help if it comes to that,” I chuckle. 

“Good, I think Bill and Charlie will want to pitch in. Ginny too, I’m sure.” 

“I’ll make sure to tell him that he’ll have to answer to the whole Weasley clan if he fucks up,” I smile. Fred laughs and nods, his eyes a little distant for a moment, staring off just to the left of me. “So we’re good? You don’t hate me for-” 

“I could never hate you, Mia. We’re all good. As long as you’re happy,” Fred interrupts me, knocking his shoulder against mine playfully. 

“Thank you… I love you, Freddie,” I say, leaning into my best friend. 

“Love you too, Phe. In a totally platonic, you’re my best friend save George kinda way,” Fred responds with a cheeky grin and we both laugh. 

“Did you guys finally make up?” George asks as he steps off the stairs and comes to sit next to Fred. 

“Yeah, we’re good,” Fred nods with a smile for me. 

“Thank, Godric!” George yells loudly, making everyone in the common room whip around to look at us and the three of us burst into laughter and for the moment. Everything feels normal again as we laugh and the rest of the room shakes their heads at us thinking, Just the twins and Mia making a ruckus again. Life as normal. 

✦

24 october 1996

I sit at the Gryffindor table in the Great Hall for the Welcome Feast for the students from Beauxbatons and Durmstrang. The Great Hall is decked out with banners of the houses and the Hogwarts crest. An extra table has been added to the hall for the visiting students, one side filled by French students dressed in silk blue robes that cannot be very warm and the other filled with the students of the Scandinavian school who are dressed much more appropriately for the weather. Madam Maxine of Beauxbatons and Headmaster Karkaroff of Durmstrang sit up at the teacher’s table as well as Mr. Crouch from the Ministry of Magic. 

As we eat, talk circles heavily around the tournament but most people are in awe of Victor Krum who came with the Durmstrang entourage. Ron and Harry, in particular, in star struck that the Bulgarian Seeker is in the same building as them for the second time in a season. While my friends are more concerned with the French girls. 

“Man, I’m telling you, they don’t make girls like that at Hogwarts,” Fred says, sparing a smile for the girls at the guest table which sends a small cacophony of giggles into the air. 

“Ugh, really nice,” I scoff and roll my eyes. 

“Just truth telling,” Fred shrugs. 

“Well they certainly don’t make men like Krum at Hogwarts either,” Angelina responds with a smirk, turning over her shoulder towards the Durmstrag students, and George’s face sours. I make eye contact with Alicia and we both fail to stifle our laughter. We all know George and Angelina are whipped for each other, except them, but before either can question Ali and I, Dumbledore stands and holds his hands up for silence. 

“The Triwizard Tournament is about to start. I would like to say a few words of explanation before we bring in the case just to clarify the procedure that we will be following this year. But first, let me introduce, for those who do not know them, Mr. Bartemius Crouch, from the Department of International Magical Cooperation,” Dumbledore motions to Crouch as we clap half heartedly. “Mr. Crouch has helped make the necessary arrangements for each challenge, of which there will be three, spaced out throughout the school year.” 

“So three tasks is the reason we can’t play Quidditch this year?” Angelina mutters and I shrug. 

“Three champions will be chosen, one from each school, to compete in these tasks and will be marked on how they perform and the winner will win the Triwizard Cup,” to which Dumbledore motions back to Crouch who holds up a large trophy that looks similar to the Quidditch Cup we won last year. “The champions will be chosen by an impartial party. The Goblet of Fire!” Dumbledore then motions to his other side where a case, placed by Mr. Filch, sits. Dumbledore waves his hand and the case disappears to show a huge goblet with a massive base making it nearly as tall as the Headmaster himself. Blue flames flicker over the rim as everyone cranes their necks to get a view. 

“Anyone wishing to submit their names must write their name and school on a piece of parchment and drop it into the goblet by dinner on the 31st. After our annual Halloween feast, the choosing ceremony will take place and the Triwizard Tournament will begin!” At this students erupt in cheers and applause. George and Fred share a look and I know they are plotting to put their names forward. “Now, as I have mentioned previously, only students of 19 years and older may put forth their names,” grumbling rumbles through the student body at this. 

“Once a champion has been selected by the Goblet of Fire, he or she is obliged to see the tournament through to the end. The placing of your name in the goblet constitutes a binding, magical contract. There is no turning back. Please be very sure, therefore, that you are wholeheartedly prepared to play before you drop your name into the goblet. Now, I think it is time for bed. Good night to you all!” 

“He loves to leave it all on a cheery note, doesn’t he?” Lee laughs as we exit into the hallway and move to the side, Ang, Alicia, Lee and I waiting on the Twins who got stuck in the crowd. 

“Hey,” a voice whispers in my ear as hands land on my hips and I startle, turning to see Mattheo smirking. 

“You scared me!” I playfully scold, “Didn’t know who the hell was trying to touch me!” 

“Hm, I think most guys here are smart enough not to touch my girl,” Matt says with a proud smirk, and then turns to greet my friends. 

“‘Sup, mate?” Lee says with a smile. Since I talked with Fred, the boys have been much more receptive to Mattheo and his friends. It’s not perfect; George and Theo got into a tiff a week or so ago but they’re trying and that’s all I can ask for.

“I think an aging potion would do the trick, don't you?” Fred says to George as they emerge around the corner.

 “Riddle, you’re good at Potions right?” George asks, seeing Mattheo next to me. 

“Yeah, s'pose so. Why? Cause I don’t tutor,” Matt responds and I elbow him in the side playfully. 

“Theoretically, you could brew an aging potion to only age you a few months, right?” Fred asks, both of the Weasleys looking very intensely at my boyfriend. 

“Don’t rope him into whatever the two of you are up to!” 

“Eh, it’s less about the brewing and more about how much you drink. It’ll be tricky though…” Matt responds with a shrug. 

“Guys, you cannot tell me you’re seriously going to try this hard to get into the tournament?” Alicia asks bewildered. 

“What if they kick you out when they find out you're only 18?” Lee chimes in. 

“You heard Dumbledore,” Fred says. 

“Putting your name is a binding contract. They couldn’t stop you competing if they wanted,” George finishes. 

“Just don’t ask for my help when you realize you made yourself 30,” I chuckle, weaving my hand with Mattheo’s as we climb the stairs towards the Gryffindor Common Room. Lately, Mattheo has been staying in my room more often than his own, not that I’m complaining. And right now, I’m happy as can be in the midst of my friends and boyfriend as they continue chatting excitedly.

A/n; a lot of Dumbledore’s speech is from the books btw but this is kinda filler with some cute morning matt and Mia

taglist; @purplegardenwhispers @somethingswiftandstyles @weasleyreidstyles @mayamonroem @girlbooklover555 @abaker74 @stxrsberkshire

[marlymckitten]

hogwarts days

[delicrieux]

𝑻𝑰𝑴𝑬 𝑻𝑶 𝑷𝑹𝑬𝑻𝑬𝑵𝑫, 7. year one: up to mid october, 1972

pairing for this chapter—f!lestrange!reader x sirius black warnings for this chapter—sum swear & sirius being a prat word count—2.5k

a short awaited confrontation and a new friend.

masterlist | buy me coffee☕ | ttp masterlist | < back | next >

over the course of the month, it seems that the sight of you has become repulsive to sirius. he could not bear to look at you for more than it took to notice you in the crowd or to recognize your voice echoing before the body belonging to it reached him. he’d flee, usually, and refrain, in a completely un-sirius fashion, from making a gigantic scene. this would have been odd to you if only the pain of seeing his hastily retreating back wasn’t too much.

don’t be so harsh with me please, you’d want to tell him, i’ve done nothing but love you.

instead, “what. is. with. you,” and each word punctuated with an angry smack to his forearm. he glares, and he wiggles out the way of your unrelenting pursuit to beat him into submission. his friends watch frozen, stuck somewhere between amusement and desire to pull sirius back into the safe confines of the gryffindor tower. you will not allow them. not this time, at least, “you stuck up, insufferable—“

“piss off,” he nurses his bruises, though you aren’t strong enough to leave any.

you falter in your step, but the anger doesn’t die. he must know how his look wounds. he must. “piss off?” you parrot, and it rings much smaller and fainter than his had, “piss off? that’s all i get from you?”

“expect something different?” he bites, and bites, and bites, and he maims and mars until there is a thread between your hands and his heart thin as ivory wire. his eyes appraise and they dance and they hate, “why don’t you run back to your regulus.”

ah. there it is. the venom.

“sirius-“ james starts, and both of your glares cut him into two.

“shut up,” the both of you, again, together. you mirror his dark look and try to decide which words of the infinite welling quickly are most fitting. they sink with and through you; an anger and a hurt not meant to be felt by someone so inexperienced. when you and sirius argue, it is never as dire, even if it feels like it was. sirius never starts rows he cannot win, even if it’s him that loses most in the end, “family matter.”

james looks as though he’d rather be anywhere else but in the windy courtyard, shadowed by the cold arches of a loggia. peter, cheeks and ears burning, nervously rubs his hands together to dispel the cold. remus, already, is further ways down and watching, waiting for the rest to catch up. you won’t let them, not yet, not till you say your piece and abandon first, because father said the last word is always the winner.

you speak in french because you know he hates to hear it, because it reminds of home and you know he can’t stand home like he can’t stand you now, and it will hurt him, and it will make you happy, “regulus was right about you. you’ve become unthinkably cruel.”

he curls his lip, and it is with so much spite that it makes your teeth ache. his body rolls into itself, ready to explode and spit up his scorn all over your face. the insult must teeter on his tongue. you're more than ready for it. but something cracks and something flips and he reels back a bit, a show of restraint you thought him absent of.

"yeah, regulus, regulus always knows best, doesn't he?" your french mimicked in his mouth is dense, like syrup, "regulus, darling, regulus," a sneer that draws his lip to the high planes of his cheekbones, and a head tilting movement that is patronizing and obscene. it reminds you of his mother, "your regulus, isn't he the fucking best."

"he's not mine," you state tartly.

"hard to believe when he follows after you like a dog," he bites, and bites, and bites, but even through the layers upon layers, the soreness permeates and leaves you stricken into a stupor that only sirius can create, "listens and does everything you say. can't he think for himself. attached to your shoulder like some blithering pest."

you blink back the anger in your eyes. you are not going to cry, you tell yourself. if you do, then he will win, but he always does.

the boys stare at you. you don't know what to say. the feeling of it is tight and burns like an ulcer, "what has gotten into you? why do you hate me? i haven't-" your lips work through their turmoil, "-i haven't done anything to you."

he waves you off, dismissive. his hands tremble with some unspoken rage. "stop bothering me and go back to regulus. he's probably already looking for you."

the end of the conversation hangs heavily between you. sirius sniffs, and turns away in that blasé manner he always has with him, as if all life were a joke. his posture is too stiff and his features are too cold and he joins remus first as james and peter linger. you shake.

"i, uhm," james begins, but your glare silences him again. slowly, carefully, he nudges peter, "c'mon."

they leave, but james looks back. you miss it, head hung in defeat. your emotions threaten to burst free and splinter all over the stone. you think, in a hurry, how could you ever cover them up – with your hands, your body? is it the aftermath already, where everything is too obvious for pretence?

when it rains, it pours. it always has and you suspect it always will.

*

naturally, you are inconsolable. what a great big joke. no broom closet nor dusty cavern of the castle is familiar enough to hide in, and you cloak, despite its expanse, can hardly protect from sore eyes. the loo it is, locked in some stall and hiccupping. marzipan had mentioned finding a hufflepuff crying not a week in. she thought it amusing, and you did, too – who could ever abate decency and sob in the loo? what a terrible ploy for attention, had the girl expected consolation? no such could ever be found in marzipan, why, she said, and she said it proudly, she laughed quite loud and the crying stopped.

you would die on the spot if someone found you. it would feel like uncovering a horrible secret, being exposed in such a way. aren’t you a grown up? your birthday is soon, on a cold october night. grownups always breathe fine – besides your ditzy aunts – but you find there not being enough air. so much space and so little of it.

you fan yourself, and you heave, and in a tantrum you tussle out your cloak and throw it onto the gleaming white tiles.  your cheeks burn and there’s an ache in the apex of your head. crying like this, over a boy, no less? sirius, of all? rabastan would point and laugh, point and laugh, point and laugh.

there’s a knock on your stall’s door and you nearly topple over in a scurry to silence yourself.

“hi, sorry,” the voice is unfamiliar, but it sounds kind, “are you alright?”

perfect, not only have you embarrassed yourself, you’ve aroused the suspicion of an idiot. there’s a gentle creak on the wood, as if a weight has settled. an ear, perhaps, pressed onto the surface, but for what?

you will your shaky hands to settle by your stomach. the fingers pinch and pool on the woollen fabric of your sweater. you gulp, but it gets stuck, and the silence stretches, so still.

“i-yes,” you manage. this won’t do, the tears cling to your mouth, “i’m, i'm okay.”

“do you need some water?”

if you weren’t so distraught, you’d delight at the curtsy. stupidity must be contagious because you shake your head.

“no, no,” you say after a pause.

“a tissue perhaps?”

“i'm fine,” seems you have managed to locate your wits. from some hellish depths, no doubt. swiftly, you retrieve your cloak, “thank you.”

“’s no worries,” the voice pipes. it belongs to a girl, you think, who doesn't budge, and, instead, waits. it seems your dramatics have riled someone. even the staff would scold your sorry condition, all snot and tears and shaking limbs – quite undignified, "can you tell me why you're crying?"

oh, merlin, how wonderful, the prodding and the poking and the horrible sympathy. are you so pitiable? perhaps. in this state. it's still hard to believe a complete stranger has found themselves so comfortable, "if i say i'm not crying will you go?"

the girl laughs, light and tittering. for a moment, it startles you, too, "not very likely."

the air remains stagnant, as if it's thick and spinning. the echoes of your sniffles bounce along the walls. you could tell her to piss off. you've heard it enough in the span of the last hour.

"i had a fight with my friend," you say eventually, "i think he hates me."

"did you do something to make him hate you?"

your forehead grazes the stall door. it leaves a cold spot and it makes you wince, "no."

"hmm," there is a sound of shuffling and more creaking, "well, then i wouldn't be very worried. he sounds like a dick, and what you need friends like that for?"

a great deal, actually. what did you think you were doing these years, clinging to his arm and curling into his bed when it rains? "what am i supposed to do?"

"beat him up, i imagine, and sort his sorry arse out."

you snort, though not very amused, "tried that."

"good start," you imagine her nodding and crossing her arms, "now, if i were you, i'd hex him into tomorrow and we'll never hear from him again."

"sounds wicked," you lament. the thought has crossed your mind, but revenge crumbles into some mushy, pitiful mess if you think on it too long.

"positively evil," she agrees. the silence returns, but it's comfortable, "i’ve got parchment in case you wanna practice curses."

a corner of your mouth quirks. your chest aches, but it's no longer full and painful, "that's alright, thank you."

"always wanted to be an accomplice," you hear the smile in her voice, "no trouble at all."

a final stretch of quiet. it allows you to breathe, really breathe, and pull yourself into order, as it were. it's no pretty sight, the state of you, but it no longer compares to how you first came in, a crying mess. when you open the stall, and face the girl for the first time, a kind face greets you. her brown skin is flush, hair twisted into two plaited horns that are gathered into a half bun, the rest pinned around her head. your nose twitches, itchy.

she grins, "there you are. no longer crying."

the cold from the running faucet burns against your cheeks. the face that peers back at you from the mirror is dishevelled. red-rimmed eyes and wet splotches all over. you grimace, "look like a sordid mess."

"well, yes, but, like a normal sordid mess. like, almost pretty normal," she stands behind. a red lion's emblem is embroidered into her uniform. she tilts her head, "like, i look way worse when i do it. at least you cry prettily."

"oh, you think so?" you turn to her, "no one's ever said that."

her nose wrinkles, but the mirth isn't gone from her eyes, "well, don't suppose you make a habit of sobbing in front of others. lest you wouldn't have barricaded yourself in the stall."

you hum, "quite the excellent point."

she flashes her teeth and nods proudly, "of course, got many," there's a slight silence where she appraises you, "you're lestrange, right? i've seen you in my classes," she asks as though she knows, and extends her hand for you to shake, "i'm dorcas. meadowes. gryffindor.”

“slytherin,” you respond, but shake her hand anyway.

“can tell,” dorcas says, that same lilt of a smile on her lips, “you wear it with pride.”

yes, of course, because that is what lestrange do. her family name is unrecognizable, but you don't think to wonder on it much further. her eyes are friendly and warm, and she takes to fixing the wayward strands of your hair while you dab a bit of tissue paper to your nose. a few seconds go by, and she glances at you from under the hair fallen onto her forehead, "i still have parchment, and we could still get you those curses down."

"haven't the ink to draw any, unfortunately," you reply.

"hm. next time then," dorcas decides for herself, and makes for the door, "think a walk to the kitchens might be in order?" she leaves her invitation open-ended, her gaze expectant, "could use a warm cinnamon bun."

you wonder about her, dorcas meadowes, with the shiny dark eyes and plaits and how well she talks to strange girls who cry in bathroom stalls. "alright," you accept, the smile on your face not as strained, nor sad, nor angry, "lead the way."

[5sospenguinqueen]

Ominis: That was my sarcastic voice.

MC: You know, it sounds a lot like your regular voice.

Ominis: I've been told that.

[lolathestoryteller]

teenage struggles (April 22nd prompt; Mistake) @jilymicrofics

Lily knocks on Harry’s dormitory door, before slowly opening it to spot him perched on his bed. His back leaning against the wall as he stares broodingly out the window.

He looks so utterly crestfallen…James had been right, Harry‘s date must really have been bad.

She bites her lip in silent sympathy. „Hi, sweetheart,“ she addresses him quietly. „Can I come in?“

Harry, who’s only just seemed to acknowledge her presence, blinks at her for a moment. „Mum? uh, yeah…sure.“ he replies.

She crosses the room, ignoring how messy it is — teenage boys, right?

Sitting down on the edge of the bed, she reaches her hand out to lightly touch his knee. „Date didn’t go well?“

Harry sighs, fiddling a bit with the hem of his shirt — the one he‘s so eagerly put on just a few hours ago, with the brightest smile on his face as he‘d told her about his date with Cho Chang.

Lily scoots closer, until she’s sitting next to him, wrapping an arm around his shoulders. „Tell me what happened?“

„Well…we, sort of, uhm…kissed—“

Lily’s eyes widen with surprise. „You did?“ she asks, cringing slightly at how high pitched she sounds. But…it’s not everyday her son gets his first kiss, is it? „Then, why do you look so gloomy?“

„Because,“ Harry groans, hiding his face in his hands. „I shouldn’t have— it was a mistake.“ he runs a hand self-consciously through his hair. „She cried. She cried as we…kissed, because of— of Cedric.“

Oh dear…

„Oh, darling…I’m sorry. She shouldn’t have kissed you whilst struggling with…what happened.“ Lily replies, running her fingers gently through Harry‘s curls.

„Yeah…“ Harry shrugs, before he shifts his head to lean it on her shoulder. „Thanks Mum.“ he whispers, after a moment of them just sitting there. He takes her hand, which she all too gladly allows for him to hold.

„What for, Harry?“

He looks up to her through his lashes, smiling slightly. „Being here.“

[dciphe-r]

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