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neganandblake · 6 years

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The Slytherin and the Hufflepuff - A Negan & Blake Hogwarts Teachers AU

What if Professor Negan, ex-Slytherin, ex-pro Quidditch beater, started at Hogwarts as the new Defence Against the Dark Arts and Quidditch coach. And what if the one person that caught his eye was lovely, kind Madam Blake, ex-Hufflepuff and Hogwarts nurse. Harry Potter/Walking Dead crossover.

MASTERLIST

Chapter 6 - February

January slipped slowly into February in a flurry of bitter wind and frost.

Hagrid had been out each and every morning since the snow had cleared, salting the pathways and ensuring that Madam Blake didn't have to deal with yet another pupil breaking an ankle or an arm because of the slippery conditions (so far alone this month there had been four!).

But despite the harsh weather and the cold conditions, there was an excitement and a buzz amongst those in the wizarding community. For only a week or two ago, after rumours of unhappiness within the Ministry, a snap election had been announced, meaning that three new candidates had put themselves forwards for the position of Minister for Magic.

Two of the candidates were of course well-known backbenchers, both of their policies they now put forward, rife with bad habits and pompousness, often seen by the other Ministers of old.

But most of the excitement, instead hovered, around the new candidate, Gavin Randall, who had emerged from almost nowhere.

He was young by comparison to the other candidates and his policies seemed fresh and new and fun. His slogans and taglines were marvelously catchy and when he spoke, people stood up and took notice. He was change and everyone seemed to be looking forward to that.

The whole country seemed to be supporting him, with his red and blue banners and flags seemingly everywhere.

Even the Hogwarts students, far too young to vote themselves, were still seen sporting Gavin Randall badges and covertly sticking up posters everywhere around the castle, much to Filch's dismay. Most likely due to the fact that Radall had proposed some fun policies that snared the young voters, such as free chocolate frogs for all, and to reduce the price of Firewhiskey by at least thirty percent.

It felt like a new age was dawning for wizards and witches, and almost everyone signed themselves up, registering to vote, completing a routine census, giving their parents names and their dates of birth, to do so

It was all everyone seemed to be talking about, although come the second week of February, this was shadowed somewhat at Hogwarts, by the announcement that the next Hogsmeade trip would be taking place on Saturday the 14th of February.

Valentine's Day.

Talk of what everyone was going to wear and who planning to take who on dates to the small town just beyond the Hogwarts gates, filled the corridors and common rooms.

And even Professor Negan, who normally would have rolled his eyes at any mention of Valentine's Day, was putting together plans of his own.

Things had settled somewhat at Hogwarts since the day of the fire on the Quidditch grounds, with Dumbledore and Negan putting all sorts of protective spells on what felt like every inch of the castle and its grounds,

But since then, there had been nothing. No more messages. No more threats. And no more discussion on the matter. Both likely hoping that it was silly one off occurrence.

For it was hard to think that anyone in this day and age could share THOSE kind of severely old-fashioned prejudices against Muggle-Born Witches and Wizards

But Negan had found himself slightly distracted from thoughts of this anyway, his concentration now instead, fully on Valentine's Day.

Things between him and Blake had been a little off this last few weeks if truth be told, and Negan felt almost sure she was avoiding him.

He wondered if it was because of his choice of words after the lesson they had spent together.

But no matter, Negan had a plan to change all that.

The ex-beater had in fact been wandering out of the Great Hall when he had noticed the sign-up sheet for the upcoming Hogsmeade trip and had immediately spotted that right at the top was Madam Blake's name written there in elegant cursive, for she had signed herself up to be a chaperone for the day.

And in that moment it was as though a lightbulb had pinged above Negan's head, his eyes twinkling as he hurriedly grabbed a spare quill and signed his name just below hers and a couple of other staff members' who would be heading out there too.

And so, today was the day.

Valentine's.

It had turned out to be an overcast day, with a bitterly cold wind that that whipped at the children's pink faces as they made their way down towards the castle gates, wrapped up in scarves and mitten and hats and all talking animatedly with each other about what boy was planning on asking what girl out, or which Gryffindor was going to ask what Hufflepuff for a snog in the alley next to Zonko's.

Negan had bundled himself up in a long black coat, digging his hands deep into his pockets as he headed down the steep slope, jogging a little to catch up with a familiar face walking just ahead of him in amongst the masses of Hogwarts students.

He could see her now, dressed in a pretty powder blue coat that fell to her knees, her chin buried in the oversized knitted yellow scarf that was wound around her neck to deflect the wind a little.

Negan jogged forwards, out of breath, by the time he came to stop at Blake's side.

"Hey, fancy seeing you here..." he said into her ear, trying to seem cool despite the fact that he had practically run the length of the Hogwarts ground to catch up with her.

Blake at once looked up, a bright smile appearing over her gorgeous features, as they fell easily into step with one another.

"Hey!" she said looking a little surprised to see him. "W-What are you doing here?"

Negan lifted a hand, trying to tame his ruffled hair.

"I'm uhhhhh...chaperonin'..." he said easily.

But this earned him a bemused look from Blake.

"I didn't think this would be your kind of thing….spending time with the students out of hours…" she said with a teasing wrinkle of her nose.

But Negan merely grinned back, giving a shrug of his broad shoulders.

"Just thought it might've been fun, an' hey, what else is a guy like me gonna do on Valentine's Day?" he said with a small scoff.

But although Negan had thought Blake would find this kind of self-deprecating humour funny, instead, the blonde woman reddened slightly, turning away from him, giving a visible gulp, as she detached her eyes from his.

There was a moment of silence between the pair, where both of their eyes awkwardly landed on the sight of two fifth year students snogging right in front of them, tongues battling as though their life depended on it.

Blake took a wide-step to avoid barreling into them as Negan did the same.

"So…." the caramel-blonde nurse said brightly, after a moment or two had passed. "You know who you're gonna be voting for in the Ministry elections next week?"

The topic was on everyone's lips at the moment, so it wasn't a surprise it had come up so early in their conversation.

"Yeah….I mean I wasn' convinced about that Randall guy at first, but that damn policy on Firewhisky really got me impressed" said Negan with a chuckle, earning himself a smile from Blake.

"Yeah I like him too," she hummed. "He's got great things to say about Healers and is offering all sorts of funding for apprenticeships for young wizards who want to start a career in Healing Magic…"

Negan nodded.

"Yeah...he's got some great ideas. Kinda almost sounds too good to be true, right?" he said with a half-laugh.

"Yeah, almost," Blake laughed back. But strangely, their memory of this thoughts, faded almost the moment they had uttered those words.

Hogsmeade was a buzz with Hogwarts students by the time Negan and Blake arrived there.

Children spilled out of every shop and of course Madam Puddifoot's tea shop. And Negan, to his annoyance, was forced to dodge out of the way of students as they ran past him in a flurry of excitement.

He noticed Blake smirk at the look of his face as they passed yet another snogging couple, third-years this time.

"Jee-suz, I gotta admit, these kids hav' got balls. I never did anythin' like that in my day, on the goddamn street too, in front of everybody…" he tutted, causing Blake to raise a playful eyebrow in his direction.

"Aww late bloomer were you?" she asked teasingly, as Negan merely rolled his eyes smirking. But he didn't answer her.

Their pair had walked half the length of the Hogsmeade high street now, and Negan glanced up at the sign hanging above their heads, as Blake came to a stop just outside the door to the Three Broomsticks pub.

"You...err...fancy a drink?" said Negan with a smiling, yet questioning frown.

But at once he noticed Blake redden at his words, her eyes falling from his, just like they had en-route here.

"I…...ummm….actually…." Blake said in a slow voice, looking like she was trying to delicately search for the words. "...actually...I have a date."

At once, it was like Negan's had suffered a hard blow to the chest, winding him completely,..

"Oh, I err, that's cool…" he muttered.

It was a lie.

In fact it was anything but cool.

But all this, well it was his own fault. He had had plenty of opportunities since Christmas to ask Blake's out on a date of their own, but he had chickened out at every opportunity.

And she had obviously presumed after so long that he had lost interest in her. And that wasn't her fault..

"So...uhh...who's the lucky guy?" he asked, putting on a brave face, although inside, his stomach was churning with jealousy.

"Um, well apparently he's a freelance photographer for the Daily Prophet" nodded Blake, tucking a wisp of caramel hair back behind her ear. "It's a blind date," she explained. "My friend set us up, so…"

Negan gave another nod, as silence fell over the pair again, broken only by the shouts of students as they ran by.

"Listen," said Blake looking at him and offering him a warm and beautiful smile. "He's not supposed to be here for another twenty minutes or so. Do you want to come inside, keep me company for a bit?"

Negan rocked back on his heels for a moment, stuffing his hands ever deeper into his pockets.

"I dont know…" he said, wincing and giving his nose a small wrinkle.

But his look earned him an elbow in the ribs from Madam Blake.

"Come on," she said pleadingly. "I'll buy you a butterbeer."

And at this, Negan's face lit up.

"I guess I could stay for one drink, just until your "date gets here," he groaned in a playful manner, as Blake grabbed his hand, entwining her fingers with his and pulled him into the pub.

It was cosy in here, and to Negan's relief, the only students in here were a couple of seventh years who were sat near the bar talking in sickly sweet voices, their eyes on nothing but each other.

Blake with her fingers still clasped within his, pulled Negan over to a table at the very back of the pub, letting go of his hand when they had reached it, to unfurl her scarf and remove her coat. But he couldn't help but let his eyes linger on her for a long moment as she fussed with her hair and smoothed down her gorgeous pale pink dress, before picking up her bag and fishing in it for her purse.

"So, a butterbeer ok, or do you want something stronger?" she asked, as Negan dropped onto the cushion covered bench that overlooked the entire room.

But he gave a frown.

"Here Darlin, let me get these-" he began, but Blake cut across him with a smile

"No Negan, I told you I'd get these," she scolded before disappearing off toward the bar.

Five minutes later she was back, placing two steaming mugs of Butterbeer down onto the table in front of Negan, before, to his surprise, instead of taking the seat opposite she moved around and sat next to him instead.

"So I can keep a eye out for my date," she explained, causing Negan's pleased smile falter slightly.

But he knew he needed to snap out of this.

Blake was going on a date and there was nothing he could do to stop it. All he could do was savour this moment of the two of them together for as long as it lasted in the meantime.

The pair of them talked,and laughed, and Negan almost made Blake snort Butterbeer out of her nose with his impression of Professor Snape.

And by the time they had each almost drained their mugs, Blake was turned into Negan, giggling, their knees brushing beneath the table, listening to him tell her the story of when he won ten thousand galleons at a wizarding casino, only to lose it all again to a sweet-talking Veela con-artist.

"Yeah apparently it was all some big scam," he said with a groan. "Appricanly the American Magical Congress had known about it for a long time and picked her an' this damn croupier up a short while after."

"So they were in it together?" asked Blake in shock, shaking her head.

"Yhhhmmm," he hummed. "Coulda' done a hell of a lot with that money too."

But he looked up seeing a knowing smile on Blake's face.

"What?" he asked her, grinning.

But Blake just bit her lip. "Well I know you're gonna hate me when I tell you this, but my great-great aunt was actually half-Veela," she said pulling a 'sorry' face.

Negan's eyebrows shot up into his hairline and he leaned forward, placing his arm around the top of the booth behind her.

"I knew it!" he said pointing at her with his other hand. "I told myself the first time I saw you...damn that gal has got some Veela in her I'm almost sure of it."

Blake blushed a little, her eyes flickering down between them.

"Yeah, well I looked into my family tree a few years ago and wanted to see if there was any more magic in my family," she explained. "Both my parents were Muggles so I know it didnt come from them…"

Negan suddenly stopped, blinking hard, his mind going back to the words he had seen burned into the grass back at Hogwarts.

'DEATH TO MUDBLOODS. WE ARE COMING.'

"So you're-"

"Muggle-born, yeah," the blonde woman said with a smiling laugh. "Why? Does that surprise you?"

It didn't surprise him actually. For why would it?

The old-fashioned and terrible idea that somehow Muggle-born people were any lesser witches and wizards that the Pureblood ones, was a preposterous notion.

For Blake was so very talented at what she did. She was kind and beautiful and was one of the most intelligent witches he had ever met.

She had likely graduated from Hogwarts with far better grades than most too, for to become a Healer you needed to get the highest grades in the most difficult of N.E.W.T examinations.

"Doesn't surprise me at all…" he said with a grin, his eyes soon drifting away from hers and coming to land on the empty mug she was setting down. "What DOES surprise me though, is how quickly you downed that damn Butterbeer!"

Blake gave an immediate laugh at this, flushing slightly.

"What?" she said playfully, glancing at her wristwatch to check the time."I've only been drinking it for-"

But it was like in a split second all of the light had fallen out of Blake's words, the smile instantly disappearing from her face.

"...an hour," she finished, blinking up and gazing around suddenly.

"My date...he was supposed to have been here forty minutes ago…" she said sounding crushingly disappointed.

Negan could see the cogs turning inside her head, her brain coming to all sorts of silly conclusions about why exactly her date hadn't showed up, or if he had, why he hadn't come over and introduced himself.

He watched as a gulp visibly trailed it's way down her throat.

"No matter…" she said quietly.

But Negan could tell that it did matter.

He offered to buy her another drink but Blake politely declined, instead telling him they should probably leave and check on the students, hastily putting her coat back on.

But out on the street,that was a still a flurry of children moving to and fro, Blake lifted a hand to her head.

"Listen, I've um...I've got a bit of a headache, I think I'm going to head back to the castle early," she said avoiding Negan's gaze, and looking far more than a little disappointed now, her shoulders slumped and Negan was almost sure he could see tears in her green eyes. "Minerva and Pomona are around and can help you round up the students….s-sorry…"

And with a shake of her head, clutching her coat around her, Blake walked quickly away, leaving Negan standing there, outside on the blustery Hogsmeade High Street...alone…

It was late afternoon, and the sky had darkened significantly, by the time Blake had finished shedding all of the tears she had in her.

She stared into the mirror hanging above the mantel in her cosy office at the far end of the Hospital Wing, and tutted at her reflection.

She knew she was foolish for getting upset over someone she had never even met, but somehow that rejection and embarrassment hurt more having Negan there with her.

Madam Blake liked Negan, more than she would probably care to admit out loud. And ever since they had almost kissed on Christmas morning, she had hoped that maybe they would get the chance again. But after helping him out with his lesson last month, Professor Negan had indeed made it very clear that there was nothing going on between them and likely never would be.

And so Blake had hoped to move on, allowing her friend to set her up with a guy she knew, but perhaps all this had proved that dating, well, it just wasn't for her. For it was hard enough to get out of the castle as it was.

As a nurse, Blake needed to constantly be on call throughout the year, only having two months off over summer to herself, and she very much doubted even that would be enough time for her to find someone and fall in love. Knowing that having family was just a far off dream for her. Always had been, always would be.

Blake wiped at her tear stained cheeks fixing a smile onto her face.

Dinner would be soon and despite not feeling that hungry, she didn't want the students and teachers to start questioning why she wasn't there.

And so the blonde nurse was just about to fix her hair and prepare to head downstairs, when all of a sudden there came a soft knock upon the ajar door just over her shoulder.

"Knock knock, jus' came to check if you were feelin' ok, Peaches?" came a sudden husky voice that Blake recognise immediately.

She hurriedly swiped at her face once more for any stray tears, before turning around and smiling at him brightly.

"Hey…uhh, yes, much better, thanks," she said gently, seeing Professor Negan stroll into the room, carrying two bottles of chilled Butterbeer in one hand, and a small white box in the other.

He sucked at his teeth, glancing down at the items in his hands and smirking."Oh, 'cause I thought...if you were still feelin' under the weather...you might prefer a picnic up here instead with yours truly, instead of all that noise downstairs. Damn kids drove me crazy on the walk back up to the castle just now."

Blake's heart swelled at this, a lump appearing in her throat.

Had he really made this gesture just for her?

Negan moved across the room now coming to stop at Blake's neat and tidy desk, placing down the bottles and the white box.

"So, I've got chocolate cake or carrot cake, both from Madam Puddifoot's Tea Shop. So take your pick," he said opening the box with ease, before using his wand to remove the cork from each bottle of Butterbeer easily, handing one to her.

Blake smiled almost un-surely, biting her lip before taking a step towards him, her cheeks flushing.

"Both maybe?" she tried, earning herself an eyebrow raise from Negan who shot her a look.

"Damn, well I know you had a sweet tooth, Peaches, but-"

But Blake laughed, cutting across him.

"I MEANT, can we share both?" she muttered, with a playful roll of her eyes.

Five minutes later the pair of them were just like they had been back at the pub. Laughing, talking, joking, perched on the edge of Blake's desk beside one another, eating forkfuls of cake and drinking their deliciously ice cold butterbeer straight from the bottles.

When they were done, full of sugar and chocolate and such lovely things, Blake placed down her fork next to her bottle and turned to Negan.

"Thank you," she said gently. "For everything, Negan. You've made yet another crappy Valentine's Day better…"

And Blake meant that, she really did.

They were both quiet for a short moment, both of them smiling and both of them happy, Blake forgetting her woes if only for a little while.

"Listen," said Negan finally, placing his bottle of untouched Butterbeer down onto the desk beside him and getting to his feet, moving around to face her, closing the gap between the pair of them, his hand reaching for hers. "For the record, if I was gonna take you on a date on Valentine's Day there is no way on this earth that I would stand you up."

Blake gazed up at him now, her green eyes searching her face as Negan's hazel ones did the same in return. His thumb brushed over her smooth knuckles affectionately.

"You make my damn days brighter, Peaches…" he croaked in an earnest voice, smiling suddenly. "And hey, part-Veela or not, there is no way I wanna see you heartbroken over some asshole you've never even met."

Blake smiled back at this.

And in that moment it was as if the entire world had stilled, as Negan stared down at her.

Everything going quiet…

...time stopping for them…

Blake blinked up at him now, watching Negan frown with purpose, as he lifted a hand down to her cheek, his face hovering just an inch above hers.

And the blonde nurse could only close her eyes gently, reaching her hand out for him and coming to rest her palm flat over his racing heartbeat.

"Happy Valentine's day, Peaches," she felt him murmur into her mouth...

...feeling his lips finally meet with hers, in a gently and very, very welcome kiss.

Their first.

…..

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#negan #negan oc #negans-network #negan fic #The Walking Dead #negan the walking dead #twd #twd crossover #negan crossover #negan fanfiction #negan romance #negan fluff #jdm #Jeffrey Dean Morgan

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uk-news-talking-politics · 5 years

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Psychological warfare over no-deal masks a strategic vulnerability

By Ian Dunt

The Telegraph's decline from respectable broadsheet to semi-deranged prime ministerial fanzine continues. "Boris Johnson has public's support to shut down parliament to get Brexit over line" its front page says today - a series of words which have almost no connection whatsoever to objective reality.

The copy reads: "The ComRes survey for the Telegraph found that 54% of British adults think parliament should be prorogued to prevent MPs stopping a no-deal Brexit."

Their survey shows no such thing. It is so sloppily worded it looks like it's still being potty trained. The questions actually refer to "Boris", rather than the prime minister. If you look very closely, you can actually see the point when the professional integrity of the people involved left their body.

"Boris needs to deliver Brexit by any means, including suspending parliament if necessary," the question reads. It is plainly leading. It's like a nice furrowed path towards ticking the 'agree' box. And that agree box doesn't even relate to the headline. "If necessary" is not the same thing as "should be".

But even after all that, they still didn't get the answer they wanted. The ComRes data found 44% agreed, 37% disagreed, and 19% said don't know. So they just eliminated the don't knows and reformulated it to make it look like a majority.

It's an example of completely degenerate journalistic standards. But it also part of a sustained psychological campaign from across the Brexit-supporting press and government, which is just as baseless. It's an attempt to convince opponents of no-deal that they are doomed.

In a sense, the whole function of Johnson's government is to entrench a sense of the battle already being over. Diplomats retreat from Europe. Remorseless countdown clocks are put up all over Whitehall. Briefings are given to the press of the detailed daily no-deal preparation meetings under Michael Gove.

And most importantly of all, a sustained information war is being fought to convince critics that it's too late. MPs already lost their last chance to stop no-deal.

But there is a problem with all this. It is false. MPs have not lost their chance. They can still stop it, quite easily in fact, and there are several avenues open to them. And because that's possible, all the other dross - the doomsday clocks and 'black swan' meetings and blathering headlines - crumple down to nothing.

What MPs need is the chance to make propositions. It's as basic as that. They need the very basic conditions of argument or conflict: the ability to state a thing. But because the government controls Commons business so tightly, it can prevent them doing so.

They therefore require amendments. Amendments are the way they alter whatever the government is doing so that they can make an alternate proposition. They are the rebel mechanism.

If they can get an amendment, it's game-on. They can use this to take control of the Commons timetable and give MPs a few days to pass a new piece of legislation, like the Cooper-Letwin bill from earlier this year, which would instruct the prime minister to extend Article 50.

This is why the government is refusing to pass any laws. It is terrified of giving MPs any opportunity to secure amendments. But there are options.

One of them is standing order 24. This allows MPs to hold an emergency debate.

Once upon a time that was a fairly innocuous mechanism, because the ensuring motion could not be amended. But those days are pretty much gone. The latest version of Erskine May says they're only "normally" unamendable.

And Speaker John Bercow has been clear there's ample room for initiative there. He pretty much instructed Labour backbencher Helen Goodman to go down this route during a Commons exchange last March.

"The honourable lady should look closely at the Standing Order No. 24 procedure," he said. "What she says about it is true, but I think that she should reflect upon the opportunities that the Standing Order No. 24 procedure presents, because the opportunities are fuller than has traditionally been acknowledged or taken advantage of by Members of the House of Commons."

MPs can also use the Northern Ireland Act. Under their own pre-emptive attack, just before Johnson came to power, they ensured ministers had to publish reports and make a statement to the Commons on progress restoring power-sharing. That comes with a neutral motion, which technically can't be amended, but MPs can vote to disapply those rules. This is a regular opportunity to take control, set in the parliamentary timetable.

Then there's the nuclear option of the no-confidence vote. But this is actually a much more flexible mechanism than is usually made out. It can be used for things which have nothing to do with no-confidence.

Once the no-confidence motion is put forward, a debate takes place. If the government wants it to last for longer than 90 minutes, which it probably would, there'll need to be a Business of the House motion, which basically sees MPs vote on how the debate takes place. This is amendable.

And then the no-confidence vote itself is amendable. If you did this, it would probably not serve its original purpose of getting rid of the prime minister - but it would serve the purpose of whatever you wanted the amendment to do.

And then if all of that fails, you have the straight up-and-down no-confidence vote on the prime minister. If he loses, opponents have 14 days to find an alternative who can command a majority in the Commons. If they get it, that caretaker government would then either table an election for before October 31st, or ask to extend Article 50 and table one for after October 31st.

At the moment that looks hard, because no-deal opponents are split between those who would work with Corbyn and those who wouldn't. But once that first vote goes through it'll sharpen minds. It'll make things very real indeed. And given the government is only required for a few weeks, they should be able to find a compromise.

That's the parliamentary battleground. It is tight and drastic and weird and not the way any of us are used to doing things. But one thing it isn't is nonexistent. It is not too late for MPs to stop no-deal, just like that poll did not show that the public support shutting down parliament.

This is an attempt to terrorise and demoralise opponents of no-deal into giving up the fight and admitting defeat, before it has even begun. It doesn't reflect certainty. It reflects a fundamental lack of confidence in what they're doing.

#Brexit #Boris Johnson

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