#mention: frank longbottom | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

sunnami · 4 months

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❝time will tell.❞

[credits to the original artist of the photo!! can't seem to find their @ anywhere. title is taken from jane austen's persuasion, as was the first part.]

summary. ❝you are loved. and harry thinks there is no better description that that.❞

pairing/s. poly!mauraders x reader. (james potter x reader, sirius black x reader, lily evans x reader, and remus lupin x reader.)

word count. 9.5k.

tags. reader is referred to mum, with she/her pronouns[!], canon-typical violence [!], canon-typical deaths mentioned[!], very brief marauders as soldiers of the order[!], creepy old men being creepy[!], child abuse[!], pureblood arranged marriages, a minor character expresses wanting to die[!], Depressed and Traumatized Slytherins, the capital is important[!], themes of misogyny [!], teen boys fuck around and find out there are consequences to their actions, THERE IS ACTUALLY A LOT OF FLUFF, I PROMISE YOU, angst, children lose their baby teeth up until the age of twelve!! google said so!! not proofread we die like dobby the free elf

note. damn, i cried, you cried, we all crode. tbh, the first part was only intended as a oneshot, sdfkhdf, but when i re-read it, i thought that i could have expanded on more details,, so now here we are!! i love it more than the first part ueueue. thank you all so so so much for the kind comments :((( please please enjoy the second part to this installment!! part one

HARRY JAMES POTTER was only a few months old when you died at the hands of Voldemort — or as strangers have told him every time they ravaged his personal space and ogled at his scar. They said it was a quick death, better than what had happened to Alice and Frank Longbottom. But that was all they’ve ever said about your death. Unfortunate; caught in the wrong place at the wrong time, entirely different from the pedestal James and Lily have been put on by the wizarding society.

At first, Harry had wondered if it was due to your blood relations, being the daughter of a renowned Death-Eater, heiress to the fortune of a pureblood House. Harry can’t even count the amount of conspiracy theories he’s read or heard to his face that it must have been you who betrayed James and Lily, and not Sirius Black.

Even Hermione’s shared to him a theory that your death was faked to surrender your loyalty completely to Voldemort — of course, Hermione was eleven at the time, head full of books and her favorite theories, and Harry’s already forgiven her. But there’s a part of him that despises the way he’s never known the full truth about his parents, just bits of information dangled in front of him like bait for people [read: the Dursleys] to get him to do what they want, to act like the way they want. Until Remus and Sirius, you were a stranger to him, really.

. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .

(1976; CURRENTLY, IN THE PAST.)

IT IS RATHER UNFORTUNATE that Madam Pince has already taken her position as the unbearable librarian at this point in time. The woman gives Harry and you a pointed look as you slam the large book onto one of the tables — to Harry’s surprise, you glare right back at her. You’re awfully flushed, however, blushing cheeks betraying the fire in your eyes; it must have been from when Remus escorted the two of you to the library; he had tried to brush your hand with his pinky, to which you had responded with a startled hiss — Remus only smiled and chuckled at you, and Harry swears he’d like to forget that entire interaction because he saw literal stars in Remus’s eyes.

Jumping back in time and potentially causing chaos? Fun.

Meeting your parents? Definitely fun, in the strangest of ways.

But watching them pine and fall for each other? Not so fun.

Nonetheless, he hesitantly takes the seat across yours and watches you flip through the pages until you land on a chapter with the large, bold letters: THE CURIOUS CASE OF ELOISE MINTUMBLE — Time-Travel and Its Many Dangers. He meets your gaze with a sheepish grin, mustering a look of innocence; except the puppy dog eyes only worked when he was nine — you are not amused.

You slide the book towards him, scarily resembling Molly Weasley when she’s miffed with the twins. “You are aware, right, that just by existing here you’ve changed the future? Your future? And, that’s not even the worst thing that could happen.”

Harry sulks. “Yes, mum.” He prefers not to think about it, actually, it makes his head hurt.

“Don’t call me that in public!” You whisper heatedly, looking over your shoulder to check if anyone had heard him — to your luck, the library was empty, save for a Hufflepuff that was passed out on top of his books. “The less people that know about this, the better. It’s bad enough we told Potter about you. Do you even know what you’re going to do?”

“Considering I was thrown here against my will, no.” Harry shrugs. “And to be honest, I was just going to obliviate the people who asked too many questions.”

You reach over to smack his head, scowling.

“Ow! That hurt!” Harry rubs the sore spot as he grumbles petulantly. “This is technically child abuse, did you know that?”

You roll your eyes. “Do you at least have a plan to get home?”

“Of course I do,” Harry retorts with a scoff, “Her name is Hermione Granger.”

“Hopeless.” You groan exasperatedly. “Absolutely hopeless.”

Harry only grins in response. For a brief moment, he forgets about the present — his reality where the skies are bleak and home is where he knows the feeling of loss more than the warmth of his own parents’ embrace. He lets himself forget, and pretends he isn’t the Boy Who Lived. Just some random boy who’s pestering his mother — even if she likes to deny the inevitability of being romanced by the Marauders, (except for Wormtail because Harry would eat troll slime before he ever lets that happen.)

“Right then,” You say after your tangent — which Harry tuned out when he hears the words, be responsible. “If I’m going to help you get back home—”

Harry’s heart drops to his stomach; as selfishly as it sounds, he didn’t want to go home just yet — not to where people just took and took from him. He’s exhausted. Still, he puts up a front of being excited to be returned to his timeline. It’s for the greater good, of course, because his existence — present or past — is always somehow a threat to the wizarding society.

“—you need to answer this one question for me.” Your voice drops lower as you stare at him intently, lips pressed firmly.

Harry nods slowly. “As long as it’s within reason, yeah.”

You inhale sharply. “Do I outlive Dolores Umbridge?”

The wince escapes Harry before he can even stop it.

That’s all the answer you need, apparently. Your mouth hangs open in disbelief, eyes nearly bulging out of your head as you slam your hands down onto the table surface, shrieking.

“That slimy bitch!”

Needless to say, the two of you are kicked out of the library.

. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .

(1970; ORIGINAL TIMELINE.)

YOU ARE ELEVEN when your father introduces you to Ferguson, commonly known as Fergus, Bulstrode. He smiles at you with a leer, eyes hungrily dipping to the neckline of your dress. You grit your teeth as you hold out your hand for him to take — you almost shudder at the feel of his lips on your cheek. You eagerly take a step back away from him, hoping your father won’t notice the way you shy from Ferguson’s touch. You’re not dull, you fully understand the implications of this introduction and the way Ferguson is complaining to you about his third wife’s passing — as if you were the solution to his loneliness. Bile rises to your throat, and you shove it down with a forced laugh at your father’s jokes about Mudbloods. From across the room, Allegra Greengrass stares at you in sympathy, and you send her a glare — you do not need anyone’s pity.

The corset your mother laced on too tight is suffocating you; this whole Yule extravaganza made for elitist purebloods is suffocating you; and yet, you smile and greet every red-lipped witch your mother introduces you to. For hours, you pretend, and you pretend. By the time the guests have left, you wonder if you have any more of yourself to give.

You manage to convince your mother to let you slip away for the night. Without missing a beat, you rush outside and into the garden labyrinth, lest old Ferguson snatches you up for a dance and let his gaze wander elsewhere. For the first time since the sun had set, your aching feet finally find some relief. You drop onto the edge of the stone fountain as you toss your heels to the side. You begin working your fingers through your hair, ripping the glittery ribbons from your head. It’s not until you’re unclasping your necklace that you realize you are crying. Tears fall from your eyes, and they sink deep into the fabric of your dress.

You barely hold back your sobs. Your chest heaves as you hiccup; your vision goes blurry as your fingers grow numb. There’s nothing you can do but cry.

You’ve used up all your smiles for tonight.

But then, the sadness turns into resentment and then turns into indignation. Harshly, you wipe the tears from your eyes as you rip a violent scream from your throat.

You sink to the ground, perfectly polished nails digging into the soil as you gather patches of grass and tear them from the roots. You throw a handful of mud at the marble statues. You grab another fistful of mud, scream, then bash your head against the garden floor. You let out another cry, whimpering as you curl into yourself; shivering as a gust of wind brushes against your skin. Surprisingly enough, this is the most human you’ve ever felt. This is the most you have ever felt — period.

When hiccups regress into soft sniffles, you lay on your back, watching the stars float above. As the last of your tears slide down your cheek, you lift a shaky hand to trace the constellation in the sky. It’s not a familiar one to you, but then—

“That’s Sirius.”

You sit upright in a snap, wiping away the wetness from your eyes as you muster a mean glare at the newcomer.

Sirius Black.

“Oh, none of that,” He tells you when you move to stand. There’s barely any emotion on his face and it irks you that you can’t figure out what he’s planning. What you don’t expect is for him to sit beside you, thereby ruining his expensively tailored suit.

“You’ll get creases,” You scold him instinctively, nose scrunched — but your voice is hoarse; too tired to put up any pretences. “Your mother will be cross with you.”

Sirius scoffs, laying his head on the dirt, making sure to smear his sleeves with grass stains. “Walburga can go fall in a ditch and die for all I care.”

You gasp. “That’s horrible!”

Sirius gives you a look. “You don’t believe that.”

You really don’t, but you don’t have the courage to admit it either.

After a few moments of silence, Sirius asks, raising a brow, “So who was that?”

“Who was who?” You stare at him with knitted brows, toying with your fingers. You still can’t wrap your head around how weird this is — sitting with Sirius Black in the middle of your mother’s hedge maze, your once bright blue dress now sullied at the ruffles, eyes bloodshot and your hair a frizzy mess. (Sirius thinks you look cute, though; especially with your missing front tooth that peeks out every time you talk to him.)

“Bald guy, older than Merlin himself.” Sirius makes a face. “Looks like a troll. Smells like one, too.”

A giggle flutters past your lips, and your hands fly to your mouth. You really shouldn’t be bad-mouthing your guests, but Sirius was right — Ferguson really did act like an ugly troll. You sigh, letting your arms fall to your side. “My betrothed.”

Sirius nods in understanding. “My mother tried to set me up with my own cousin once.”

You grimace. “Which cousin?”

He sits on his knees to face you, and with a very solemn face, he says, “Bellatrix.”

This time, you laugh freely, throwing your head back as Sirius pouts at your amusement. “O-Oh, that’s golden.”

“No, it’s not,” says Sirius, lips twitching as he watches you snort like a pig through your giggles. “It’s horrible. A literal nightmare. You should feel awful for me.” He pokes your stomach, and it just makes you laugh harder, eyes disappearing into your smile. “Oi. I said feel awful, not take the piss out of me.”

“S-Sorry.” You wheeze, batting away his hand pulling at your cheek. “I just can’t imagine Bellatrix in a white wedding dress and saying her vows to you.”

“That’s disgusting.” Sirius gags. “You’re horrible, I hope you know that.”

When you finally calm down and Sirius tickles your bare feet until you cry in surrender, the two of you lay on the grass as he points out each constellation to you. Later, he fishes a small box of sugar mice from his pocket and offers it to you, opening one for himself. “Here’s to shitty parents and the one day we get to decide our own future.”

You bump your squeaky candy mice against his. “Cheers, Black.”

“Will you go to Hogwarts next year?” He asks you once he’s bitten off the tail of his mice.

You nod.

Sirius shifts on his side, holding his pinky out to you. “We’ll be friends when school starts?”

Again, you nod, wrapping your pinky around his. “Friends.”

The next September comes, Sirius finds a compartment and one James Potter in it. You sit with Allegra Greengrass and Endora Lestrange on the way to Hogwarts. You are sorted into Slytherin, and Sirius finds freedom and a home in Gryffindor. You play the role created just for you; you lift your nose at those beneath you, adorn yourself in custom-made silk clothing, and carry yourself with the etiquette of a pure-blooded lady. Perfect grades, perfect hair, perfect clothes, always picture perfect.

You pretend that Allegra doesn’t throw up in the evenings from the fear of getting married to a man twice her age. You pretend that you don’t notice Endora sleep-walking and begging for her mother to save her from her father. You pretend that under your blankets, in the Slytherin dungeon, you are safe.

You pretend that it doesn’t hurt when Sirius looks at you in disappointment when you shove a Hufflepuff student to the ground for getting a higher score than you in Charms.

They call you an ice-princess behind your back, and you overhear some of the fifth-years calling you foul words as well, and no one steps in to stop them; there’s no defending a Slytherin, after all. But you are keeping your head above treacherous waters, and you suppose that is all that matters.)

. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .

(1976; CURRENTLY, IN THE PAST.)

“SO ACCORDING TO THIS, Eloise was stuck in 1402 for five days until she was retrieved to the present, which means we only have four days left to figure out a way for you to get back home.”

Harry sinks into his chair, arms crossed over his chest. The two of you had found an empty classroom to discuss your plans away from inquisitive ears. “What’s the rush?” It’s unfair, he’d only just met you, and now he’s losing time with you.

You sigh. “Harry, Eloise Mintumble spent five days in the past and when she came back, her body aged five centuries, and she died in St. Mungos. It’s not just about altering the whole timeline, you could actually die.”

When you are met only with silence, you close the book, frowning. “Harry? What’s wrong?”

Harry swallows the lump in his throat, looking out the window to avoid your gaze. “What do you know about the Mirror of Erised?”

Your head tilts in confusion. “That it shows our heart’s deepest desire.”

“Yeah,” says Harry, nodding. “I was eleven when I found it.”

“Oh, Harry. . .”

It’s almost pathetic how quickly his eyes water. “Did you know, before today, I hadn’t known at all what your voice sounded like?”

You stay quiet, and Harry sucks in a shaky breath.

“When I looked into the mirror, I saw my parents—all of you. There I was, in the middle. You were behind me—happy.” Harry swipes a tear from his eye. “I wanted to stay in that room, stare at that mirror forever.”

“It’s—”

“Dangerous, I know.” He laughs bitterly. “Just like finally being able to meet you all here.”

“Harry, you aren’t supposed to be here in the first place,” You say quietly, eyes drooping sadly.

“I know that!” He exclaims desperately. “But is it so selfish to just want some time? I don’t want an illusion, I want the real thing. A real family. Why can’t I have that? Bloody Malfoy gets everything he wants, and what do I have?”

“Your friends,” You tell him firmly. “Your friends who must be worried sick that you’re gone and must be going great lengths to bring you back.”

“I know.” Harry wilts. He’s got Remus at home, too, who probably needs him more than ever after Sirius’s death. “I know. But can’t I just have this one thing?”

You purse your lips for a moment, brows furrowed in thought. Then, you break the silence with: “Do you want to hear a story?”

“What?” Harry croaks, peering at you through wet lashes.

Shrugging, you say, “Stories to remember us by. I’ve got six years worth of stories and then some. I know it’s not much, and you’ve probably heard some of these already from the others in the future, but it’s better than nothing, right?” You lean against the back of your chair, glancing at the wall clock before grinning at Harry. “We’ve got time to spare, anyway.”

Harry manages a smile, setting down his glasses before rubbing his stinging eyes with the handkerchief you offer him. He figures this is what Remus means when you’re the gentlest creature he’s ever known — just not gentle in what the world expects you to be.

“What do you say, Harry? I give you tidbits of the past, and you tell me if you know anything about the next Triwizard champion, so I can place my bets in advance.”

Harry snickers. “Not a chance, mum.”

“Worth a try.” And the smile you give him is nearly blinding.

. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .

(1977; ORIGINAL TIMELINE.)

YOU DON’T UNDERSTAND what it is about Gryffindors and their hobby of invading others’ personal space.

A year into dating and James likes to shove his head under your shirt, claiming he loves the sound of your heartbeat — but you know really what he wants to nestle his head in between. The amount of cashmere blouses he’s ruined is absurd! Sirius has a hobby of tracing runes on the plane of your stomach. Lily prefers it when you sit in front of her, just within reach where she can wrap her arms around you and rest her head on your shoulder. Remus tends to lag behind the group when he notices you walking slower due to your leg flaring up. He kisses the side of your head and promises to chase the pain away — sappy poetic that he is. And in the moments where all five of you are together, tucked under a wide alcove, you can best believe there is no escaping what they like to call, a cuddle pile. Limbs are tangled, kisses are shared, and confessions of love are whispered.

Before them, you hadn’t really known the different ways to love and be loved.

Onto the pressing matters at hand, you discover that the brazen show of affection extends to their parents as well. Particularly, the Potters. After a year, you finally caved into James’s requests for you to spend the holidays at their manor, since the others have already made a space for themselves there, and James had said it would be an honor for you to feel at home with his parents, too. Honestly, you spoil them too much — one look into his bright, wide eyes and you gave in. James didn’t even care that you brought two luggages for clothes alone; he lifted each bag with delight and with ease.

(Remus had the audacity to laugh when he caught you and Sirius staring at James’s flexed muscles, mouth wide open.

“As I have said, Remus Lupin, I do not drool!”

“Sure, dove, whatever you say.”)

But now, you really aren’t so sure of your decision.

“Oh, she’s beautiful, Jamie!” Euphemia encases you in a bear hug the moment you step inside the manor. You’re engulfed in the scent of cinnamon and burnt sugar. You stiffen as she cradles your face in between her palms, smiling ever so fondly at you, cooing about how precious you look, much like a mother would — and how your mother never did. You wonder if this is what you’ve been missing all along — the thought stabs you right in the heart. “Please excuse the mess, dear, we haven’t had the chance to clean up yet, Monty and I are excited to try the recipe Lily owled to us the other day, you see.”

“I-It’s okay,” You rasp, struggling to hold back the tears.

“Oh, what a darling you are!” Euphemia smiles and ushers you further inside. “Come, come. The others are right upstairs. You must be tired from the train ride. It is so lovely to finally meet you. Make yourself at home, dear heart — James Fleamont Potter! Give your mama a kiss this instant! Don’t think introducing your girlfriend will distract me from the fact you didn’t owl me letters for two months straight!”

James whines as he hides behind you. “Mum, I’m seventeen, stop embarrassing me.”

Euphemia scoffs, hands snapping to her hips. “You’re going to be my baby boy forever, now come here.”

With a shy smile, you step away to surrender James to his mother — you don’t understand which part of this is embarrassing; you wish for a mum who’d welcome you home like that, with unconditional love and kind eyes. James squawks and calls you a traitor, just before his mum attacks him with loud, exaggerated kisses to his cheek, leaving lipstick stains all over his face. You hide a laugh behind your palm, ignoring the way your heart pangs at the sight of their unrestrained smiles. Euphemia lets her son go after a few more seconds, cackling at the masterpiece she’s created on a grumbling James, who’s rubbing his skin to erase his mother’s affections. She hugs you once more before setting you off, telling you to meet Fleamont after you’ve unpacked.

Just as you reach the foot of the stairs, you hear a girlish squeal, then the sound of rapid footfall against each wooden step. Lily greets the two of you by jumping off the last step and wrapping each arm around yours and James’s neck. “Welcome home, Jamie!” She captures his lips with her own before doing the same to you, cupping your cheek lovingly, “So happy you made it, princess! How was the ride here?”

You were never a fan of traveling by Floo; it made you nauseous after, and left you with a pounding headache for hours. Without hesitation, the others offered to accompany you on the train, but you insisted they Floo ahead to Godric’s Hollow — it took a lot of convincing, but they finally agreed, (they’re not the only ones spoiled; they couldn’t refuse you, too.) With the exception of James, who wanted to be there when you saw his home for the first time. You nearly cried when you saw how well-loved their manor was; rose shrubs dipped in snow, Sirius’s motorcycle parked outside, a mailbox with poorly painted shapes, the fences covered in Christmas lights, and the amount of shoes by the door. From outside, you could hear the laughter and warm conversations.

“It was fine,” You say in a daze.

Lily sees right through you — and frowns sadly. “You alright?”

Were you?

You catch sight of the moving photographs of James and you finally reach your breaking point. There’s a swell in your throat that you can’t seem to push down. There’s a photo of James, Lily, Remus and Sirius; James is in his Quidditch jersey, raising the Golden Snitch high up in the air, Remus is twirling Lily, his arms around her waist, and Sirius is holding up a charmed banner that says: Gryffindor Rules! Slytherin Sucks! Except For My Darling Angel Love Of My Life Most Beautiful And Gorgeous Perfect Brilliant Girlfriend!

There are hints of life all around the manor. Remus’s textbooks and scarf are laid by the coffee table. Lily’s O.W.L. marks are framed on the wall, along with Dumbledore’s letters to James and Lily awarding them the position of Head Girl and Head Boy, as well as McGonagall’s previous letter to Remus that came with his Prefect badge years ago. There’s a spot dedicated to Peter, filled with a photograph of him awkwardly holding his Herbology test, one that he scored a hundred and twelve percent on. It’s a wall dedicated to them, you realize.

Then, you find it.

Right there, up above James’s spot, and beside Sirius’s display of beyond perfect Transfiguration exam marks, and a picture of him and Remus kissing each side of your face.

It’s a space on that wall just for you.

James follows your gaze and rubs the back of his head, ears tinged with a shade of deep pink. “Mum left a space when I first told her about you. I-It’s yours, you can put anything you want there.”

“I can’t,” You whisper, lips quivering as your heart cracks into a million pieces. It’s too much.

James blinks. “Can’t? It’s yours, I promise. Mum won’t mind. You can even hang your dumb Montrose Magpies poster and I won’t tear it down — Marauders’ honor. I can help you if you want. I-I’m not good as decorating as Lily, but I paid attention to your boring explanation of color theory and I know that you hate this shade of—”

“James, I can’t do this.”

That’s all you say before you run out of the door.

(And you’re absolutely delusional if you think James won’t follow you out that door and into the brewing snowstorm.)

You hear James call out to you, but you opt to ignore him and clutch your winter coat tighter around your body, shivering in the blowing wind, trudging through the deep snow through your heeled boots — designer couldn’t help you now even if you tried. You sniff, the salty taste of your tears dripping to your lips, chest tightening with a foreign kind of pain, and the frost nipping at your fingers. You give up after a few minutes, falling to the ground with an anguished cry, hand clutching the front of your chest as you struggle to breathe.

James reaches you in a matter of minutes, draping his jacket over you, barely flinching as the cold welts his bare skin. Frantically, he wipes the tears from your eyes, a pained expression on his face as he sees you cry helplessly. “Come on, dove, it’s not safe out here. Let’s go back home, yeah? I’m sorry for upsetting you. I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry — I’m so sorry, dove, please don’t cry, it’s killing me to s–see you like this.” Tears fall from his eyes, and he begins stuttering from the cold, but you can’t go back to the manor. “What did I do? Please tell me so I can fix it. I love you—I’m sorry.”

You bat his chest. “G–Go home, Jamie. I’ll just take the train back to the castle.”

“What?” He shakes his head, grabbing onto your hands. “Y–You can’t. Not in this weather. You’ll get sick if you try to walk back to the station.”

You withdraw from his hold as you back away from James, slipping into the ice-cold mask you know so well.

James rises in an instant, reaching for you. “No, no, no, no, no. You don’t get to do that. Not now. Not with me. Please, just come home and I-I’ll fix it.”

“Goodbye, James,” You tell him firmly, clenching your jaw as you look him straight in the eyes.

He grimaces. “That won’t work on me, princess, and you know it. Don’t push me away—please.”

“Go home, James!” You yell bitterly, pivoting on your heel as you march through the thick inches of snow, hearing Remus and Lily’s voice grow louder in the distance. “Just go!”

He grits his teeth, nails digging deep into the palms of his hand. “You’re a coward if you walk away from here—from us—right now!” James shouts through chattering teeth and stray tears. “And I hate cowards more than anything!”

You don’t look back.

(Later that night, James stares blankly at the fireplace, tossing twigs now and then. He’s all out of tears. Remus crosses his legs as he sits beside James and offers him a steaming mug of hot chocolate.

“Don’t want one,” He mutters, words coarse from earlier, head turning away from Remus’s gift. “Just want her.”

Remus sets the beverage on the ground before pulling James’s head down to his chest, gently wiping the tears from his eyes as he wraps the blanket around both of them. He presses a soft kiss to James’s hair.

“I said I hated her,” James says weakly. “I don’t—I never will. I just hate that she’s out there spending Christmas all alone. She could be here—with us. I hate not knowing that she’s safe, or that she thinks I don’t love her anymore—that’s a bloody lie, Moony. I adore her. If anything, I don’t deserve her.”

James finds out that he does have more tears left in him. “I miss her. Bring her back, Rem, please.”

“You’ll cry yourself sick, love.” Remus wipes each tear away. “Let’s go to bed, yeah? Mornings do have a way of bringing miracles to us.” Because after a night of excruciating pain under the moon’s command, he wakes up to sunlight, and there you all are — smiling down at him like he is deserving of love; and maybe Remus can’t fault you for running away.

You’d kiss him gently and tell him how proud you are of him for coming back to you.

Remus only hopes you come back to them, too.)

. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .

(1976; CURRENTLY, IN THE PAST.)

“AND THAT, dear Harry, is how I humiliated Lucius Malfoy in fifth-year.” Your eyes gleam wickedly as you rest your arms on the school desk. “If he ever bothers you in your time, just mention my name—oh, I wish I could see the look on his face when he realizes I’m haunting him from my grave. Tell him, okay?”

Harry nods excitedly. “Definitely.”

“Got anymore stories?” He asks.

You cackle menacingly. “Boy, do I ever. Let me tell you about the one time Beckett McLaggen took me out on a date to Madam Puddifoot’s!”

Harry grimaces. “Do I even want to hear about this?”

“Oh, pish-posh.” You dismiss him with a wave. “You do, this story is hilarious. Now that I look back on it, Sirius was quite cross with him for the rest of the day—how strange. I wonder why.”

Harry stares at you in disbelief. “You’re joking.”

“I most certainly am not, Harry Potter.”

. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .

(1974; ORIGINAL TIMELINE.)

AN EAR-PIERCING scream wakes you up in the middle of the night. You snatch your wand from under your pillow, heart thudding against your chest in fear — last year, the Prewett twins decided it was funny to break into the girls’ quarters at midnight; you get a month worth of detention for hitting Gideon with the Expulso curse and suspension from class for two weeks, while the twins get away with a slap on the wrist and have the time of their lives spreading rumors of you being a Death-Eater.

Endora shoots up to her feet as well, staring at you in panic — then the girl screams again, and you realize it’s Allegra.

You sigh in relief, lowering your wand before saying to Endora, “I-It’s alright. I’ll handle it.”

“Are you sure?” Endora asks timidly, gnawing at her lip and wincing when Allegra wails once more.

“Certain,” You respond, yawning.

As Endora climbs back into her bed, you slip into Allegra’s side, holding her head to your chest, brushing your fingers through her hair and untangling the knots. Like most of the Greengrass women, she was of ethereal beauty — silky blonde hair, smooth and fair skin, deep blue eyes that enchant wizards and witches alike. But her cheeks have gone sallow from exhaustion, eyes devoid of any emotion, and her skin now sunken into her bones.

“I don’t want to marry him—I can’t! He’s old enough to be my father!” Allegra sobs violently, desperate for anyone to hear her, but no one really ever hears their cries from the dungeon. “They said they’d wait until I graduated—they promised! I’m supposed to marry him this summer!”

Your heart breaks for your friend — there’s nothing you can do but hold her until she’s cried every bit of her soul out.

“I hate them,” Allegra whispers to you; she had been shedding tears for hours, trembling in your arms until morning finally came.

“I know,” You say defeatedly.

“I wish I was dead,” She replies lifelessly. “He can’t marry a dead bride.”

“Don’t say that,” You beg as you hug her tight; afraid to lose her to the world that has worn her down. “Please.”

Allegra sinks into her pillows, and you follow in suit, hesitantly laying your head beside hers. She stares at the ceiling dully. “The world is so, so cruel to us daughters sometimes. And it’ll be cruel to our daughters, and their daughters. When will it end?”

“I don’t know,” You say honestly.

Allegra hums, neither disappointed nor surprised, and turns away to lay on her side. “Pansy,” She mumbles.

“What?”

“If we lived in a better world and I married for love, I’d want to name my daughter Pansy — like the flower.”

(Later that day, you are given detention for beating Evan Rosier to a pulp. He makes a joke about dirty blood, and you snap — you are tired of laughing and pandering to the arrogant men in your life. This is the first time you publicly defy your parents, and it felt good — more than good, it was liberating. It’s like breathing fresh air for the first time. Then, you earn a second detention for storming up to the Gryffindor common room and punching Fabian Prewett in the face — because fourth-year boys had no business sneaking into the girls’ dorm in the middle of the night for some stupid prank — and you threaten him by pointing the tip of your wand deep into his neck, demanding they apologize to you, Allegra, and Endora.

You get what you want, naturally — as princesses do. You decide then that you’re going to create a world where girls like Allegra don’t cry anymore.)

. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .

(1976; CURRENTLY, IN THE PAST.)

HARRY TWINGES WHEN he hears the end of your fourth or fifth story of the afternoon — no wonder you had been so angered by his being in your room. “I-I’m sorry—”

“Yesterday was hardly your fault,” You interrupt him. “There’s no controlling where magic brings you, not in your case. You didn’t know, but now you know. I don’t hold it against them — anymore. Fifteen-year-old boys can be stupid, and at least they’ve learned from their mistakes. You should have seen your mother — erm, Lily — she looked like she was ready to kill them after finding out what they had done. Even Molly was cross with the twins, and you know how loyal Molly is to her family.”

Oh, Harry knows.

And Hermione knows it all too well.

“Others call us evil, conniving and cruel, Harry,” You tell him grimly, “But I will protect my own, no matter what I have to do.”

At that moment, Harry thinks he understands why some people come to fear Slytherin.

. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .

(1978; ORIGINAL TIMELINE.)

“LOOK, LILY-PAD, the princess is drooling again.”

You open your eyes to glare at Sirius. “I don’t drool, idiot.”

Lily chortles as she presses a kiss to your shoulder. “Of course you don’t, princess.”

Currently, you’re lying on a shabby loveseat that is too small to hold the three of you; it’s the only furniture in the new cottage you call home, where Potter Manor was right across the street. (Euphemia was ecstatic to have you all nearby — the lovely woman was sprite for her age, but you notice the way she stops to sit and catch her breath, Sirius and James hovering over her attentively; you’re good at pretending, so you pretend that the Potters will be around forever.) Some rooms are dusty with cobwebs, walls unfinished, with the floors creak under your feet, and there’s no other place you’d rather call home.

You’re in between Sirius and Lily; your lips swollen from their kisses, cheeks flushed and the column of your throat graced with love marks. It’s the most beautiful set of jewelry you’ve ever worn, not even burmese rubies could compare. Lily’s hand rests under your jumper, Sirius’s thigh wedged between your own. While peace blankets the three of you, James and Remus have yet to come home from their task given by the Order.

“You need a haircut, my love,” You mumble drowsily, pulling at one of the dark ringlets — it’s gone past his shoulders now. He captures your hand and leaves a delicate kiss on your fingertips.

Lily buries her nose in your hair. “She’s right, Siri.”

“I’m always right.” You pout.

Sirius, love-sick fool that he is, smiles as he tilts your chin with his finger and ensnares you in a kiss that leaves you breathless. “Course you are — our girl’s bloody brilliant, isn’t she, Lily-pad?”

“Without a doubt.”

You roll your eyes at their antics, rolling around so that your back is pressed to Sirius’s chest — they’re not fooled, however; Lily sees the way your eyes flicker in amusement and the way your lips threaten to curve up into a smile. She traces the swell of your lips with her thumb, to the dip of your nose, and to the apples of your cheek. Sea-green eyes beam at you.

“I love you,” says Lily, committing every inch of you to her memory as she wears a melancholic smile. “I don’t know who told you that you don’t deserve to be loved, but they were wrong. You are so precious to us, dove, you don’t even know how much. This right here is real — and nothing could ever change that.”

As it turns out, you did have more smiles to give — only the happy ones; not the fake, courteous smiles that you had given to your mother’s friends in the past. You come to intertwine your hand with Lily’s, the one that had been resting on your cheek, tenderly wiping the tears that pooled within your eyes. Your heart could burst from your chest. They had a habit of wringing every emotion out of you; of making love feel real, not just a myth from a Muggle storybook. And you find, that you didn’t mind this particular habit of theirs. In the comforts of the place you call home, where you irrefutably belong, you are free to seek their arms and fall into their love, and the best part is where you get to love them right back.

How lucky you are.

“Let’s get married,” You blurt out, holding your breath, feeling Sirius’s hand on your waist stiffen.

“What?” Lily gasps breathlessly.

You smile up at Lily. “Let’s get married. All of us. I don’t care where, o–or about the rings, let’s just get married. With the war going on, we deserve s–something good.”

Lily sobs as she nods excitedly. “Yes. Oh my Gods—we’re getting married!”

Sirius stares at you in wonder. “Bloody hell, dove, give a guy some warning, would you?”

You grin. “Is that a yes?”

“It’s a yes — forever.” Sirius dives in to kiss you senseless. “Couldn’t get rid of us now even if you tried.”

“I don’t think I’d want to, anyway.”

Right then, the rickety door slams open, and you hear the loves of your life calling out for the three of you. Followed by the heavy thud of Dragonhide boots plunking down onto the floor

“We’re home!” James announces in the entryway.

Lily wastes no time in shooting up from the sofa and welcoming them home with quite a unique greeting:

“We’re all getting married!”

. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .

(1976; CURRENTLY, IN THE PAST.)

“That ring is an heirloom passed down to the children in our family,” You tell Harry, pointing to the band around his finger. “It’s meant to symbolize our loyalty and duty to our House. My mother said I would have earned it only when I became a wife to Ferguson Bulstrode.” You chuckle at Harry’s perturbed grimace. “No, I didn’t marry him — thankfully. After Allegra. . . I—I. . . I couldn’t bear it. If I was going to marry, it would be on my own terms, and it would be for love, nothing less. Then, if my child wanted it, I’d give them this ring. I want to leave behind a legacy that I created. When I was younger, I’d resigned to a fate that was forcefully carved by someone else’s hand.”

You shake your head. “I want to die being remembered by those who loved me. Otherwise, I was never truly alive.”

Harry won’t let that happen, he won’t ever let your name be forgotten. He’ll share of your kindness to his friends, of your bravery and loyalty. Hermione will love your fondness of Muggle musicals and how you stood up to Lily’s defense in a world that ostracized her for being different. He’ll remind Remus of your love for him, that he had brought you hope in times of despair. Harry is going to make sure the world knows you had been so full of life with endless love to give. You are going to be remembered in the way Voldemort never will.

“What do the words mean?” He stares at the writing: Tempus Edax Rerum.

You smile. “Time, devourer of all things.”

. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .

(1978; ORIGINAL TIMELINE.)

“REMUS—THE MUGGLES ARE stuck in the telly again!”

Remus snickers as he takes the vacant space beside you on the loveseat, now sewn up with care and spattered with knitted quilts and throw pillows — still too small to carry three people but hasn’t given out yet, anyway. He takes Lily’s legs over his lap, swiftly stealing a kiss from your lips. “It’s a film, dove, they’re acting.”

You purse your lips. “They’re trapped inside, then?”

Lily snorts into her tub of chocolate fudge ice cream. “Not quite, princess, it’s recorded. Movies are like moving photographs — but they’re an hour long with sounds.”

“Oh.” You turn your attention back to the screen, back to the film Lily had been watching. You had to admit — the story of Sandy and Danny was an interesting one. “Lily-pad, she’s singing — again.”

Sirius hushes you from where he was cuddling James on the other couch. “She’s supposed to sing, dove, it’s a musical.”

“Well, yes,” You begin, and James groans into Sirius’s chest, “But they should just talk instead of singing all the time — Sandy’s got a lovely voice, though. I just don’t understand why Danny’s treating her like that! Truthfully, I don’t like any of Sandy’s new friends, other than Frenchy — she’s harmless. If I was Sandy I’d move on from Danny — but then again, that hair and those muscles, and his leather jacket! I can’t blame her.”

Sirius glowers at you. “You like his leather jacket?”

“His hair?” James exclaims in horror.

Remus chuckles as he tucks you in his side, kissing your temple. “If I were you, dove, I’d be quiet and just watch the film.”

“Oh, no, no.” Sirius barely glances at the television as he pauses the film and stands up to point an accusatory finger at you. “Since when were you into leather jackets? Do you think those are cool? Since when? Jamie, should I get one? Let’s unpack this, right now. And his muscles, really?”

Your eyes roll to the back of your head. “Play the film, Black, I want to see the end of their love story.”

“I’m telling Euphemia on you!”

. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .

(1976; CURRENTLY, IN THE PAST.)

“—and then we realized that we accidentally locked Hermione in with the troll.” Harry’s arms flail about as he shares some of his adventures with you — it had only been fair. He felt like a young boy again, entering Hogwarts for the first time as he watched you listen to him intently, gasping at tale of the vanishing glass and scolding him when he says he and Ron had decided to go searching for Hermione, and by extension, the troll.

Your eyes grow wide. “A troll? In Hogwarts? They can’t have, not unless—”

“Someone let it in—I know!” Harry grins. “You’re not going to believe who let the troll in the castle.”

You snap your fingers, “Malfoy, the older one. I know that lump’s got something to do with this. Can’t have been Snape or Quirrell.”

“Just you wait.” Harry’s eyes twinkle with mischief. “—and so, Professor McGonagall finds us, and can you believe it? She awards us for dumb luck! Then. . .”

. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .

(1979; ORIGINAL TIMELINE.)

IT HAD COME AS A surprise when you volunteered to join the Order of the Phoenix. You wanted to scoff at their shocked faces — was it so surprising that you wanted to protect your family? They let Severus Snape join their ranks, and you’re fairly certain that you’re a better fighter and survivalist than him — not the better liar, however, he can have that one. The week before, you and the others had an argument that lasted for the whole day. They did not want you in harm’s way, and you would rather die than stay at home, waiting idly for them to return, when you could be out there alongside them.

(“It’s not some game out there!” Remus runs through his hair in frustration — he had always been so careful to never raise his voice at you, but this one time, he needed you to back down. “Every time you step into a raid, there’s a possibility of you dying, don’t you understand that? And even if you survive — you’ll have blood on your hands, and it does not wash away no matter how many times you try, trust me, we know.”

“So what?” You throw your hands up in the air, equally aggravated. “I just stay here like some. . . some pet waiting for their owners to come home?”

“Yes!” Lily angrily replies. “That is the whole point of us joining the Order — so you get to live another day. So we all have a chance at this new world without a war. Let us protect you!”

You grind down on your jaw. “You have got another thing coming, if you think I’m not going to fight tooth and nail for my future.”

James slams a fist onto the kitchen counter. “There are horrors out there you can’t even imagine. I-It’s worse than we thought. It’s our every nightmare come to life.”

You raise your chin defiantly. “Then we face it together.”)

Each day, you survive, and each day the five of you return home — scarred and bruised, but safe within the arms of one another. When you collapse and crumble, it is only for the walls of your home to witness.

Now a month into autumn, you are on your first task without Sirius, James, Lily or even Remus. Instead, you are assigned by Dumbledore to Knockturn Alley along with Peter Pettigrew and Gideon Prewett. How strange time was, years ago you’d never associate with the proud Gryffindors, and now you had to trust them to guard your back. Everyone had to grow up quickly during war, even pranksters.

The alley was quiet — too quiet for your liking. You had been on alert since the moment you apparated into the area, wand at your ready. The back of your neck prickled with goosebumps as you kept an ear out for any sign of movement.

Peter shivers and you glance at him — he’s become far too skinny, constantly shrinking into himself out of fear. And while you want to comfort him, you keep your eyes up ahead. Still, there's a nagging feeling that you can’t quite make out. It’s different from all the other times you’ve been asked to search and rescue.

“Don’t you feel like there’s something wrong?” You ask Gideon, eyes snapping to the flock of crows flying overhead.

“Dunno, kid,” Gideon says, nudging your shoulder with pressed lips. “Everything about this is freaking me out. The place is too empty.”

“I get what you mean,” You reply, swallowing your own nervousness. Without waiting for the rest, you speed up your pace. “I’ll scout ahead, who knows what’s been here before us. I don’t want to risk any of our lives, so let’s be careful. Gideon, ward the area while I check for any cursed objects, last time you almost got your arm cut off by a newspaper of all things. And Peter, could you. . . Peter?”

When you turn to check behind you, it all happens so fast.

“Avada Kedavra!”

You scream as Gideon’s deathly pale body falls to the floor.

“No!”

You aren’t given a moment to rush to his side — someone digs their wand in the side of your neck, and you stiffen in their hold. It’s not until they hiss in your ear that you recognize the voice.

“Rosier.” You spit, biting down on your lip when he presses the tip of his wand further into your flesh.

“Stupid witch,” He taunts, eyes dilating with vengeance. “Where are your lovers now?”

“Jealous?” You claw at his arms, chest heaving up and down. “We don’t have room for one more, sorry.”

“Shut up!” He pushes you to the ground in blind rage, and that’s all the opening you need.

“Expulso!”

Each curse you send his way lands on his cloaked body, sending him staggering backwards. With ease, you deflect each spell he counters with. You’re winning, he is growing tired, and perhaps that is why you let your guard down.

“Accio wand!”

The magic fizzles out, and the spell dies on your lips. As you swivel your head to find out who’s stolen your wand, you expect to find another Death Eater — except it’s Peter. Just Peter Pettigrew, quivering in his boots with tears and snot dripping down his face, your wand in his free hand. You furrow your brows — it doesn’t make sense.

“Peter?” You call out.

“Crucio!”

The curse finds its home in your body — and it sinks deep into your flesh, grinding your bones until you slump to the ground, wriggling as you draw blood from your lips, refusing to let them hear an ounce of your pain. Blood trickles down your nose as you hear Evan Rosier dancing around you in glee. You know this curse well; the sound of your father condemning you gleefully echo in your head. You crawl over to Gideon — hand desperately reaching for his shirt.

“Crucio!” Rosier grabs you by the hair and howls with laughter. “Scream for me again—Crucio!”

It’s as though someone had begun to rip you in half. Your bones shift and crack with every uttered curse. The veins in your eyes have popped and through bloody vision, you see Peter cowering away from you.

“You—fucking—traitor,” You gurgle, throat welling up with blood that’s risen from your stomach. “They’ll—never—forgive you—never.”

“Crucio! Crucio! Crucio! Come on, witch — SCREAM! Look at her go, Pettigrew, crawling like some pathetic worm.”

You lay in your owl pool of blood, wearing a body that is marred and lacerated. But you see something in Gideon’s hand. I’m sorry, you want to tell him. I’ll get you home to Molly, you promise, please lend me your magic this once. With every last bit of your strength, just as Rosier directs another curse at you — one you know you won’t survive — you snatch the wand from Gideon’s hand and tear the last of your magic from your throat.

“Defodio!”

You wait with a bated breath as silence fills the alley; lucky to have remembered Professor Flitwick’s quick remark as to how the slight difference in pronouncing a charm could alter its effect. Rosier stands on shaky legs, a stream of blood leaking from the corner of his mouth. You watch as he looks down to his chest, where a gaping hole now lies instead of where his ribcage and heart should be. As Gideon had done before him, Evan Rosier crashes to the ground.

That just leaves one more problem.

Peter scurries to your side the moment Rosier can hurt him no longer. “I-I’m sorry—I’m sorry. I had to. . . T–They killed my mum, they killed M–Mary, and t–they said I would die too if I d–didn’t do this. I’m sorry. Y–Your father was there, too. He said he would take you in, let you l–live if you joined us. W–We can live, t–there’s still a chance for us to survive.”

Your fingers are bent at unsightly angles, the remnants of the Torture Curse still flowing through your veins, but your face contorts in anger as you let your hand curl around his neck. He sobs louder, and though your grip is weakening — you make sure he looks into your eyes, that he feels your touch.

“I’d rather—die.” You say through gritted teeth, nails drawing blood from his grimy skin. “You’ll die too—you’ll feel my blood on your skin—everywhere you go, Peter.”

Peter shakes his head, now clumsily pushing his wand down to the center of your chest. “Y–You were the only o–one who d–didn’t laugh at me. N–Not like the others.”

“When they find out—you’re dead, Pettigrew.” You laugh darkly as more blood exits your body through your lips. “There’s nowhere you can hide—you’re a dead man.”

“P-Please die,” Peter cries out, each killing spell coming out as a garbled whisper. “Please die, s–so I can live. I c–can’t fight anymore, I’m tired.”

Your vision goes a hazy shade of white, Peter’s silhouette fading away to the familiar scenery of your cottage in Godric’s Hollow.

Oh.

Dying is less painful than you had expected it to be. It’s like coming home after a day’s work.

You just wanted to rest now.

The world caves in on you, and you barely hear Peter’s next words.

“Avada Kedavra.”

(It’s past midnight when Peter Pettigrew arrives at Grimmauld Place, where it’s been altered to host the members of the Order, Lily sobs in relief and gathers him in her arms.

You’ll feel my blood on your skin.

You’re a dead man.

Dead, dead, dead, dead, dead, dead.

“Oh, I’m so glad you’re home safe — welcome home — thank the Gods you’re alive,” Lily blabbers through her tears, checking his face for any major injuries. “Merlin, what happened? There’s too much blood on you. It’s on your shirt and your face.”

“It’s not mine,” says Peter hoarsely.

Sirius’s gaze darkens, arms crossed over his jacket as he leaned against the wall. “Where is she?”

Lily nods, standing on her tiptoes to search for any sign of you. “Peter? I–Is she alright? Has something happened to her?”

Peter stays silent for a moment too long, and he finds himself slammed against the wall behind him, Sirius snarling in his face as he seizes the front of Peter’s soiled shirt. “Where the fuck is she, Pettigrew?”

Peter begins to weep. “I–It was an ambush. None of us saw it coming. Gideon r–ran. She was taking on two Death-Eaters at once and I–I was too far away.”

Lily collapses to the ground with a heart-wrenching scream.

Sirius growls as he drives his fist to the wall, inches away from Peter’s face. “Where is her body?”

“It was a disintegration spell.” With Severus Snape — brought to the Malfoy Manor to be made as an example of what happens to blood-traitors.

James pushes Sirius out of the way and grabs a hold of Peter, knocking his head against the concrete. “It should have been you—” James snaps at Peter. “If it came down to you or her—you should have saved her!”

“W-What?” Peter stammers, eyes wide. “She chose to save m–me.”

James sneers at him. “You should have just died.”)

. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .

(1996; CURRENTLY, IN THE PRESENT.)

ST. JEROME’S GRAVEYARD had exactly one visitor. Remus Lupin sits in between James and Lily’s graves, a bottle of firewhiskey in his hand — four empty at his side. He must be going crazy. There’s no funeral for Sirius as there’s no body to actually bury, Harry is presumed missing after an attack in Diagon Alley, and your name stares back at him mockingly. He tries not to dwell on your passing — there have been too many holes, too many details left unsaid; and he knows just the rat who has all the answers. Unfortunately, Wormtail won’t come out of whatever hole he’s crawled into. Either him, or Severus.

He sighs, rubbing the temples of his head to ease the growing pains.

You are the first to be buried of the five. Like Sirius, there had been no recovered body to lay to rest, but they asked for a compromise instead. Your name is engraved under Euphemia’s in her tombstone, and Remus figures it’s the fitting place to leave you be — with your mother, welcoming you home with open arms. He hopes you’re at peace, wherever you are. (Because, honestly, at this point, he might just fucking follow you.)

Remus takes another swig of his alcohol, laughing bitterly to himself. He glances at James’s headstone and raises his bottle to him. “Not even in death, huh?”

He downs the last of the drink, rising to his tremulous legs. Remus gathers the flower bouquets he had bought earlier this morning; lilies-of-the-valley for Lily, white carnations for Euphemia, forget-me-nots for you, and for James — Remus leaves a moving photograph of him and Sirius; it’s a snapshot taken by Lily during the wedding as James dips his head low to kiss Sirius. Remus thinks it’s a wonderful memory to remember them by.

“Take care of them for me, Jamie.”

And that is all the goodbyes Remus has the strength for.

end note. i think i was crying the whole time i was writing this part, LMAO. i should be able to wrap things up in the next one. important!! there is actually a scene i was hesitant to include, but i ended up writing anyway. it's the whole part where allegra greengrass breaks down, and it was difficult for me to decide because i knew the implications; that i had a strong underlying message in that part, and i don't want it to be misconstrued or anything. pls pls tell me if it comes off as offensive, i definitely don't want to hurt anyone. nevertheless, thank you again so so so much for reading!! if you spot a plot hole, no you didnt!! i hope the time-jumps weren't too confusing! again, thank you so so much for reading!!

#hp angst #hp fluff #hp imagine #hp x reader #james potter x reader #lily evans x reader #marauders angst #marauders fluff #marauders imagine #marauders x reader #sirius black x reader #poly!marauders x reader #poly!marauders fluff #remus lupin x reader #sunny's hp fics

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papcrrings-arch · 1 year

Text

Closed Starter : Frank & Alice ( @cquity )

“Okay so how are we doing this?” Frank asked as they walked towards the gingerbread house pieces, “Are we making one together or are we going to have a little competition? Make this interesting?”

#food mention tw #starter : frank longbottom #warriors don't give up : frank longbottom #interactions : frank longbottom #interactions : frank & alice #event : winter market

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theemporium · 11 months

Note

Hi!!!

i was wondering if you could do Grumpy!JamesPotter x Sunshine!reader but with a soft spot for her and maybe he is like defending her in a situation or something!! xx

You’re write is amazing!!

thank you for requesting!🖤

By some grace that nobody could understand, James Potter had a soft spot for only one person and it was you.

Somehow, you—sunshine personified, bubbly and loved by most, if not all—had wiggled your way into the bespectacled boy’s heart and the whole student body knew you had him wrapped around your finger, even if you weren’t totally aware of the power you held over him.

There had been countless occasions where James had stepped up when someone was treating you wrong. You were far too kind to say something but James wasn’t. Whether it was another student or a friend or a professor, he was ready to put the person in their place.

He hated watching you get walked all over and this was no different.

The only difference was that he didn’t know it had been happening for a few weeks. You had never even mentioned to him that you had been having some difficulties with your potions partner, it had to come from Frank Longbottom who had told his friend after he had seen you wipe away some tears after class the day before.

Nobody hurts his girl. Absolutely nobody.

Especially not the likes of some Ravenclaw boy he didn’t care to know the name of (though Frank had told him his name was Henry).

“Jamie?”

His head snapped up when he watched you walk down the corridor towards him, the depths of the dungeons seeping through the layers of clothing he was wearing. His lips twitched as you approached him, opening his arms for the hug he knew you were going to give him as a greeting—like you always do.

“Hey, sunshine,” he murmured as he wrapped his thick arms around you, enjoying the way you nuzzled yourself against his chest.

“What are you doing here?” you asked him, but there was a smile on your face that told him you were happy to see him regardless.

“Why didn’t you tell me you were having some issues in potions?” he asked, his brows furrowed slightly as he watched the way your face dropped a little.

“James, it’s really not that bad—”

“Don’t downplay your feelings,” he said with a shake of his head. “Not around me.”

“I can sort it myself,” you said to him with a shrug, failing to meet his gaze because you both knew it was a lie.

“You don’t have to sort it yourself,” James murmured as he took two fingers to gently nudge your face up to look at him. “That’s what I’m here for.”

“My hero,” you murmured with a shy smile.

James puffed his chest a little, enjoying the way you giggled. “You know it, sunshine.”

Despite your best efforts to make James promise he wouldn’t scare your potions partner too much, that was exactly what he did. He dropped a kiss on your temple and let you head into class whilst he waited for your partner to arrive.

The second he saw the slimy git, his fists were bunched up in the fabric of Henry’s shirt and his back was pressed against the stony wall as James got in his face.

“If you make her cry or even let her smile drop for one fucking second, I’m gonna end you,” James gritted through clenched teeth. “You hear me?”

Henry gulped and nodded his head.

“I better not hear you giving her any more problems,” he huffed before he chucked the boy to the side, watching as he scrambled to stay on his feet and keep his books from falling. “I have eyes everywhere. Don’t think I’m joking.”

Henry barely held back a whimper as he rushed into the class.

And James only bit back his grin, straightening his robes before he headed off to his next class, counting down the hours until he saw you again.

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saintsenara · 9 months

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You mentioned fanon turning barty crouch jr. into an uninteresting character. I don't know much about what the new fanon characterisation has really done with him, but I'm curious for your thoughts on why he's a canonically interesting character. I agree that he is, but it sounds like you might have some interesting thoughts on it that are already fleshed out.

thank you for the ask, @jamesunderwater, and i'm sorry for taking so long to drag myself around to answering this.

as you may have gathered if you’ve read my views on jegulus or wolfstar, the common fanon interpretation of marauders-era characters and i don’t really get on.

this is not a new development - me and goofy fanon sirius have been beefing for over a decade at this point, i fear - but our enmity has taken on a new form since (roughly) 2020, when the emergence of what we might call the modern marauders subfandom brought with it a whole series of expectations about characters, ships, personalities, and appearances in first war stories which, let me state my position immediately, have absolutely nothing to do with the characters as they are in canon.

i could talk about sirius or regulus or james or snape or lupin until the cows come home - as, i’m sure, could many of us - but i also dislike the expectations the marauders subfandom has around its supporting cast. these characters - who largely fall under the categories of women, slytherins, or both - have names that we might recognise from canon, but they are - to all intents and purposes - original characters.

to do some marauders fan defending, i do understand the rationale behind this. hogwarts is a school, and it needs to be filled with the sort of incidental characters that lightning-era writers can pull from the canon text (shoutout to ernie macmillan, the mvp). if you’re writing about lily, then she needs friends - why not have them be alice, marlene, dorcas, emmeline, pandora etc.?

[well, because dumbledore isn’t running a child army. it makes no sense for the entire order of the phoenix to be in the same school year - and the idea that alice is probably around ten years older than lily, that pandora is around the same age as narcissa malfoy and isn’t a pureblood, and that marlene, dorcas, and emmeline are hard-nosed ministry bitches in their fifties who can have mad-eye moody quaking with just a look is something which can be prised from my cold, dead hands.]

and if you’re writing about the epic highs and lows of high-school football going to school during a sectarian conflict, then you need some antagonists. which is to say, you need some slytherins.

the issue i have is that the three key slytherins who seem to have been elevated to principal cast in the marauders pantheon - regulus black, barty crouch jr., and evan rosier - get what can only be called the smol bean treatment. that is, that three teenagers who all canonically join a terror organisation are turned into soft and tiny babies who thought lord voldemort was just feeling silly when he said, ‘my aim is the eradication of the muggleborn population through violent means.’

and even fics which do acknowledge that the three willingly become terrorists often go out of their way to provide justifications for this which don’t contextualise their decision (something which is important - you can’t write about snape becoming a death eater without acknowledging the way that poverty, loneliness, and a sense of hopelessness make someone an easy target of radicalisation) but which minimise it. sometimes, their violence is turned into romantic vengeance - i’ve seen a fair amount of suggestions that barty goes to torture the longbottoms because frank was the auror who killed evan. sometimes, authors imply - or even outright state - that there’s no need to see these boys as aspiring villains: voldemort is right; the class system is good and should be maintained; and purebloods (usually james, sirius, regulus, barty, evan and maybe a token woman or two) should stick together while the half-breeds and the mudbloods go hang.

this - like all aristocracy wank in this fandom - annoys me enough with regulus and evan. but it’s particularly grating when it comes to barty crouch jr. because - unlike evan, who is literally just a name in the text, and regulus, who isn’t much more - he actually has a canon personality.

and it’s fascinating. indeed, i would even go so far as to say that barty crouch jr. is the greatest villain in the harry potter series.

[my apologies to lord voldemort.]

after all, even though he’s been imprisoned under the imperius curse for over a decade, barty is still so lucid and powerful that he is able to:

produce magic capable of tricking the goblet of fire, which is treated by all the adult characters involved as unprecedented.

pull off a year-long impersonation of a man whom dumbledore evidently knows extremely well without being clocked until his mission has been successful, even though his opportunities to observe the real moody can have been virtually non-existent. he is in character within seconds of his ambush on moody’s home - after the intruder-alert dustbins are set off - and is able to persuade ministry personnel who can be presumed to have met moody personally (including both amos diggory and arthur weasley, who appear to know him not only personally, but well) that he is the real deal. he maintains his performance even under close scrutiny from the teaching colleagues he has to interact with daily at hogwarts, despite the fact that he presumably can’t get a great deal out of the real moody, since he’s having to be kept deliberately weak and docile under the imperius curse.

manipulate multiple people into become accessories to his crimes, without ever being suspected of doing so. with the hindsight of knowing who he is, the first defence against the dark arts lesson in goblet of fire, in which ‘moody’ deliberately distresses neville by using the cruciatus curse directly in front of him, before swooping in to be the person to cheer him up so that he can plant information which will help harry win the triwizard tournament and deliver him to voldemort, is chilling. he just gets unlucky that harry has the biggest martyr complex in human history.

commit murder on hogwarts’ grounds without ever being suspected of wrongdoing.

execute lord voldemort’s plan to kidnap harry and use him in his resurrection ritual flawlessly. the plan itself may be convoluted - but dark lords are allowed to have a flair for the dramatic, as a treat - but, crucially, it works, and barty succeeds in every respect.

but, i concede, we’re talking about the adult barty here. perhaps he was once a sweetheart who went unfortunately off the rails after his father sent him to prison and then - in effect - drugged him for years. that wouldn’t be a ridiculous suggestion.

except for the fact that - canonically - the teen barty was just as clever, sly, manipulative, and - above all - ardent in his support for voldemort as his adult self.

at his trial in the early 1980s, young barty gives the performance of a lifetime. he screams, he shakes, he looks terrified of the dementors, he is pale and weak and harmless-looking, he begs his mother to help him, he pleads with his father for mercy, he maintains his innocence as he is dragged off to his cell. he gives off the impression of simply having been in the wrong place at the wrong time so well that harry potter is almost certain that his conviction is illegitimate. so too, it is implied, is albus dumbledore.

indeed, barty plays the part of the wrongfully imprisoned so well that - as canon tells us - he not only influences public opinion to be broadly in favour of his probable innocence (or, at least, his diminished culpability - sirius suggests that the widespread view was that he was probably there, but that he only ended up involved in what was clearly bellatrix’s idea because of his father’s failure to relate to him properly), but also changes public opinion against the government’s anti-death-eater strategy entirely. following his imprisonment, his father - a man who never met an extrajudicial punishment he didn’t like, and whose ruthless approach to dealing with the death eaters in the first war (such as his use of internment for suspected terrorists, his order to aurors to shoot to kill) was, we are told, enormously popular with the wizarding public - is forced to resign in disgrace from his role as head of the department of magical law enforcement. crouch sr. is quietly shuffled off into a boring bureaucratic position, his ambitions to be minister in tatters, and his only way forward to free his son from the prison cell where he is languishing for the crime he very literally did.

[as an aside, i do think that we are supposed to read that bellatrix is the ringleader of the torture of the longbottoms. but, all too often, that gets reduced to her doing everything while rodolphus, rabastan, and barty just stand there gormlessly. they were clearly performing the curses too!]

now, barty’s unusual cunning can - of course - be explained by narrative reasons. the text needs to conceal that he’s the villain (since, as with philosopher’s stone, it wants to imply that the dark lord’s faithful servant at hogwarts is severus snape) until the very end - and this naturally requires dumbledore to not think too hard about whether his good judy alastor is behaving even more strangely than usual.

the text also needs to suggest that he is innocent in order to properly stick the landing on the narrative role of his father - barty crouch sr. as with dolores umbridge in order of the phoenix, crouch sr. exists to show harry (and the reader) that the rot in the wizarding world was not caused by - and will not stop with the defeat of - voldemort. his ruthlessness and inflexibility, his lack of respect for due process, his astonishingly cruel treatment of winky (brutal beyond even the standard way in which wizards abuse their enslaved elves) all serve to teach harry that the anti-voldemort cause can become just as easily corrupted as the disillusioned young men in voldemort’s orbit. the suggestion that crouch sent his own son to azkaban without good reason, simply because he would not deviate from his beliefs, is an important lesson to harry about what ‘justice’ actually means.

but, despite this, barty is also able to pull off his deception because he’s spectacularly talented. it’s not all just narrative.

and his talents are caused by characteristics which aren’t good or bad in and of themselves. he’s clearly very intelligent (he got twelve owls, the series’ benchmark for genius). he’s hyper-observant, creative, adaptable, good under pressure, and possessed of nerves of steel. he shares these traits with other villains in the series - voldemort above all - but he also shares them with plenty of the heroes. harry, for one.

which is to say that all of his personality traits could be put to non-criminal uses. but - as with harry, who is capable of being quite sinister when he wants to be (for example, when he manipulates slughorn into giving up the horcrux memory) - they would give a non-criminal barty an edge. and this doesn’t seem to be present in his standard fanon persona - as sweet and goofy as all marauders-era men - to any great extent.

finally, there is another aspect of barty’s character which is absent from his fanon version - that he clearly has some sort of childhood trauma, but that this does not excuse any of what he does.

even though crouch sr. is right to send him to azkaban, he was clearly also a cold and distant father, who had absolutely no idea how to relate to his son.

[as another aside, this emotional negligence is bad enough without it needing to be written as having been accompanied by extreme physical and/or sexual abuse. there seems to be a real tendency in fan-fiction - not only in marauders-era stuff, although the exaggeration of orion and walburga black into despotic villains is one example of this - to make childhood misery ‘worse’, in order to justify a character’s later actions.]

voldemort demonstrably uses barty’s terrible relationship with crouch sr. (and his absolutely flagrant daddy kink) to groom him into taking the dark mark (not least because there’s otherwise no explanation for why he cheerfully informs him that he too is named after his dad), which he may very well end up taking when he’s still at school. my reading is that he’s recruited to inform on his father - since voldemort would undoubtedly wish to keep the head of the department of magical law enforcement under constant surveillance - and that this is why the dark lord pays him the attention he is so obviously lacking.

but, as with snape and regulus and draco malfoy and all the other young death eaters, barty also colludes in his own radicalisation. voldemort is a master at ensnaring recruits, sure, but he’s also a busy man. he only bothers to make the effort because the clever, creative, cunning, manipulative young man - who wishes to avenge himself on the father who never paid him attention (sound familiar?) - he finds before him is very much determined to become a spectacular part of his terrorist organisation. and stories which feature him owe it to him to give him that dark complexity of character

show the series’ best villain some respect.

#asenora meta #barty crouch jr #characterisation #asks answered

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magswrite · 1 month

Text

prompt: devotion (april 8th). 1,369 words. @jegulus-microfic. cw: mentions of murder/blood

James shuffles side-to-side as he rehearses the words in his head, wondering whether the rumpled flowers in his hand will be enough for Regulus to forgive him. They’re his favorite, of course—dahlias, acquired earlier that morning, but James can still picture Regulus giving them one look and tossing them away.

“Regulus, I’m sorry,” he says. Or—

“—Regulus, I’m sorry. Regulus. I’m sorry.”

He keeps his voice low—low enough that James knows it won’t be audible through the front door of Regulus’ apartment. Under the sound of his muttered words, his heart is beating fast, thunk, thunk, thunk. Whether it’s quickened because of Regulus, or because he’s nervous, James isn’t quite sure.

But, when the door finally opens after a series of determined knocks, revealing a slightly-disheveled Regulus, his heart seems to stop for a second. Regulus has a determined sort-of look in his eyes, and a shiver runs up James’ spine.

“Reg—“

“James, I’m sorry,” Regulus says. “Now really isn’t the best time.”

At that, James’ stomach flips a little, thinking of the speech he’d prepared. Regulus, I’m sorry. The date with Frank—it was a mistake. You know how I feel about you. You know that, under any other circumstance, I’d hardly think about going out with someone else—

And it falls away at the tip of his tongue. Regulus Black apologizing?

“I just,” James starts. The flowers are still clutched in his hand. “Can we talk? Inside, for a moment?”

Something flashes in Regulus’ eyes, and he starts to shake his head, his curls bouncing slightly.

“—I know,” James cuts him off, before he can say anything else. “Bad time. But Reg, I’msosorry.”

It comes out far less elegant than James had pictured it. Still, Regulus hasn’t shut the door in his face, so James figures he’s doing something right.

“I never would have gone out with Frank if I hadn’t—if you weren’t—“

Regulus raises an eyebrow, as though he’s telling James to tread carefully. “—Iwantedtomakeyoujealous.”

Fuck me, James thinks. He’s really bad at all this confessing stuff. Still, it’s out, and that’s better than James has done in the past. He has a history of flirting terribly with crushes, only to never speak the unspoken. And the date with Frank had just been a bad idea, too. James could still see the expression on Regulus’ face after he’d caught him and Frank at the restaurant, going all pouty through the window.

Fortunately, a smile starts to spread across Regulus’ face. An actual smile. His eyes flicker from the dahlia’s in James’ hands, and up to his face, to the hand running nervously through his hair, and something seems to flip.

“Jealous?” He teases, leaning up against the doorframe. “What makes you think I’d be jealous of Frank Longbottom?

At Regulus’ expression, James resists the urge to roll his eyes. James might like to play aloof, but he isn’t, really. He’s terribly obsessive, actually, and has been with Regulus for the better part of a year.

Fortunately, Regulus hasn’t turned him away yet.

“Well,” James says. “Call it an instinct.”

“And you would say your instincts are good?”

“Yes. Generally speaking,” James answers.

The gears seem to be turning in Regulus’ head at the reply, the cool of the night air surely sweeping into the house.

After a few moments of silence, James asks, “Can I come in?”

The same expression remains upon Regulus’ face—what seems to be disbelief—before something seems to flip.

“Sure,” Regulus states, voice cold. “Yes, you can come in. Just—”

The door shuts. It’s probably a minute of silence on the other side before James hears him undo the chain on the other side, and open the door completely.

“I’ll get some water for the flowers,” Regulus says, voice in that some stone-like tone. “Take a seat.”

It’s more a demand than a request, though James has no place to argue. He takes a seat at Regulus’ countertop—cool and marble—and holds the flowers dutifully.

Regulus comes back with a vase, black like the dahlias, and sets them upon their side. Then, he pulls out a pair of shears, and sets them next to the vase. For pruning, James thinks.

“Champagne?”

James nods instantly, thinking of the reprieve a bit of liquid courage might bring. He still feels as if every glance of Regulus’ eyes is burning his skin in judgement. Or in something else he can’t quite put his finger on.

Wandering away from the counter, Regulus takes his time pulling out a bottle of Moet and two flutes. The champagne opens with a pop (over the sink, of course, because Regulus is the tidiest person James knows) and Regulus pours two foaming glasses, setting one in front of James.

When James finally curls his fingertips around the glass, he drinks half the pour in one sip. Somehow, the two of them manage to operate in solitude without any awkwardness—part of the reason James is so in love with Regulus in the first place.

Regulus takes a sip of his own, and then begins to snip away the ends of the dahlias, setting each of them into the vase.

“Talk,” he says, and James does.

“I don’t know when it started, really, because I think I’ve always been in love with you…”

He recalls, first, with how they met. How he’d felt when he first saw Regulus walk into the room at Sirius’ birthday, some sort of angel touching down on earth. Regulus seems to think it’s funny, because a small smile graces the corners of his lips at the memory, and James continues.

While talking, he can’t quite bring himself to look at Regulus, and so his eyes search everywhere else. They search Regulus’ fingers as they unweave flowers from the bouquet, snipping away the bad bits with a snip. They search the dim light of the kitchen, lit almost-romantic, searching little details about Regulus’ life he hadn’t picked up on the few other times he’d been to the apartment.

There’s a painting, hanging in the living room, that James hadn’t noticed before. Or a stack of books, in the corner, of which James wishes desperately to know the contents. Or in the hall, chased almost entirely in shadow, where there’s a hint of red scattered over the floor, perhaps a carpet—

“James?” Regulus interrupts.

He’s stopped trimming the flowers. Instead, the black dahlias are pulled into a perfect arrangement. Perfectly planned.

James realises he’d stopped talking.

“Sorry,” he says. “Lost my train of thought.”

Suddenly, his throat seems rather—parched.

“Water?”

Regulus tilts his head to the side. “Please. Glasses are above the sink.”

James manages up out of the chair, his limbs feeling heavier than he’d been before his monologue. Love, he supposes, does that to you.

He manages to make it to the sink, everything feeling a bit hazier by the second, and turn on the tap for a glass of water. It’s only when he’s dipped the glass just under the faucet that things start to feel a bit—wrong.

There’s a bit too much red in the sink, isn’t there?

James’ eyes flicker back to the hall, back to where his gaze had lingered just a moment before. He can’t quite—can’t quite see it, but he thinks—

“James?” Regulus interrupts, again.

His eyes snap back down to the sink. Then, to the knife block. Back to the sink. A bit too much red, he thinks, again.

And he realizes, then, that it hadn’t been a carpet at all.

“Are you okay?” Regulus continues.

It'd been Frank.

“Reg—what did you do?”

James hates how his voice seems to come out a bit pathetic.

The expression on Regulus’ face flickers, for a moment. The false kindness. Then, suddenly, it falls away, and James feels as though he’s looking at an entirely different person. He’s not sure he wants to look away.

“Thank you,” Regulus says. “For your platitudes of devotion.”

There’s a speck of blood, by his ear. James can see it now—now that he’s so close.

“I hope you’ll thank me for mine.”

Before the world goes black, James can feel Regulus’ hands wrap fast around him.

#this is vaguely inspired by you #i've never watched you #but i'd like to think it is?#jegulus #sunseeker #starchaser #james x regulus #regulus black #james potter #regulus x james #jegulus fanfiction #microfic #jegulus microfic #marauders #marauders era

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myadmiringmind · 1 year

Text

What’s This? |Remus Lupin

Remus Lupin Masterlist

Word Count: 1.4k

Summary: You’ve been with Remus since Hogwarts and found out about his furry little secret before the two of you ever got into your romantic relationship. For years you’ve wanted nothing more than to give Remus one gift. This year is finally the year.

Warnings: Remus thinking low of himself (Remus being Remus), mentions of past transformations, cursing

Pairing(s): Remus Lupin x Fem!Reader, James x Lily Potter, Marlene McKinnon x Dorcas Meadows, Sirius Black x Male!Unamed!Character

Character(s): The Marauders (all four), Lily, Marlene McKinnon, Dorcas Meadows, Sirius’ boyfriend, and 4 year old Harry Potter

Mentioned; Alice and Frank Longbottom, Regulus Black, Pandora Lestrange, Mary Macdonald, and Emmeline Vance.

Notes:

Voldermort is gone

Peter never betrayed them

They all lived

All characters are in their mid-twenties

Readers mother is a potioneer

|PICTURES DO NOT BELONG TO ME|

—————————————————————

The Potters were well known amongst their loved ones for their famous Christmas Party. James’ parents, even though aging, continued with their parties, and the lot of you attended every year.

After James and Lily got married they started hosting holiday gatherings as well. It was a bit more of an inner circle than what James’ parents did. But you all looked forward to it every year.

“Hold on..I got this!” James assured us as he struggled to open the box in his hand.

Little Harry laughed at his fathers clear struggle, earning a grin from James. Lily looked at James strangely.

“James,” Lily plucked the box from him, “It’s already opened.” Lily opened the box with ease.

A fit of hysterical laughter filled the room.

You were resting on your boyfriend's legs, listening and joining in on conversation as your head rested on his thighs and your hands were intertwined across your stomach.

“Y’know,” Sirius began, “This reminds me of when we won that quidditch match against Ravenclaw and James got drunk as shit-“

“Sirius!” Multiple voices chastised

“Whoops.” Sirius grinned, not even trying to seem guilty. Sirius was spread across a love seat while his boyfriend sat on the floor in front of him.

“I think it’s time for Harry to go to bed.” James said, rushing towards Harry as if Sirius’ swear word would poison his son.

“Not yet, you know he gets fussy when he goes to bed too soon.” Lily stopped her husband

“Yeah, Jamie,” Marlene jokes, “It’s a holiday, let the kid stay up.”

“You’re only saying that because you’ve never had to deal with a fussy baby.” Dorcas pointed out

Marlene snorted, “Of course I have, I used to have to babysit my siblings when my parents went out. I’ve dealt with plenty of fussy babies.” The blonde corrected her wife.

“Thanks for volunteering to take care of Harry, Marls.” James teased as he gently plopped the four year old in Marlene’s lap.

Marlene’s eyes looked as though they were going to pop out of her head as Harry tried to reach for Marlene’s bottle of beer.

“Uh, love, a little help here.” Marlene begged her wife quietly.

“I thought you were used to fussy babies.” Dorcas teased

“I was, but that was a long time ago!” Marlene shrieked as she tried to keep the bottle of alcohol away from the persistent toddler.

“I’ll take him.” Sirius scooped Harry up from Marlene’s lap, “I’m his godfather, I’m amazing when it comes to these types of things.” He said proudly

“You called us crying because Harry got a paper cut.” Lily deadpanned

“It was a bad paper cut!” Sirius exclaimed

“It did look pretty bad.” James agreed quietly with his brother

Sirius grinned, feeling victorious.

Lily sent James a look, “But you did make it seem like Harry was dying.” James said quietly

Sirius gasped and pointed at Lily, “How dare you turn him against me. I thought we were closer than this, prongs.” Sirius feigned hurt, “Moony, Wormy, back me up here.”

“Leave me out of it.” Remus said

“I’m sure you meant well, Sirius.” Peter said in a slight sarcastic voice

“Thank you, wormy.” Sirius chose to ignore Peter's tone.

“I do not understand how you deal with toddlers all the time, Lils. First, you and James, then Alice and Frank.” Marlene commented

“How is Alice and Frank?” Lily asked, suddenly very curious about one of her closest friends.

Marlene shrugged, “Good. Me and Dorcas went over for dinner earlier this week. Their little mutant clinged to my leg the entire time.” The blonde complained.

“It was sweet, he likes you.” Dorcas teased

“Tell that to the slobber left on my good pants.”

“I'm glad to hear that.” Lily said, “I got a letter from Mary yesterday morning as well.”

“How's our sunshine doin?” Sirius asked

“She and Emmeline are traveling right now…she thinks Emmeline is going to propose!” Lily's excitement was obvious.

“About time.” Sirius spoke up, “How long have they been together? Since third year?”

“Sixth year.” Lily corrected

“You’re next, Moony.” Peter said teasingly

“Yeah, Moony, when are you going to pop the question.” Sirius was only joking. All of them knew why Remus hadn’t proposed.

“Just be patient, pads.” Remus jokes

Sirius snorted, “You sound like my little brother. Though he and his blonde friend were a thing, then I found out he’s seeing some muggle from France.”

“Regulus?” Peter questioned

Sirius nodded, “The boys a blonde and everything.” Sirius looked towards Marlene, jokingly.

“Must be hot then.” Marlene jokes.

————————————————————

Remus had already changed into his pajamas and climbed into bed. He was only waiting for you to come to bed so he could fall asleep.

Meanwhile, you paced in the living room of your shared cottage. You sent occasional glances towards the basket that held the vials of potion your mom had produced for you.

“Love?” Remus called from the stairs

“In here!” You called back, you shuffled your feet in nervousness.

What if he didn’t like it? What if he thought you were trying to fix him? What if it doesn’t work?

Remus peeked his head in the doorway and smiled at you, making your heart melt in love.

“What’cha doin? It’s late.” He walked towards you and stiffened when he saw your uncomfortable posture.

“A-are you okay?” He asked worriedly

You managed a small smile and stepped towards him, straight into his arms and rubbed his back. Mostly to calm yourself.

“I have a present for you.” You whispered

Remus hummed in confusion, he hadn’t heard you, you realize.

“I have a present for you.” You said louder, pulling back from his chest but keeping his arms around his waist as his arms stayed around your shoulders.

His brows furrowed, “Okay?”

You sighed, stepping back and walking towards the basket, “Sit down.” You said

You heard shuffling and the creak of your chair.

Gently, you pulled a single vial from the basket and walked over to him. Without making eye contact you sank to your knees beside him.

He eyed your figure and chuckled nervously, “You’re freaking me out a bit..”

You sighed regretfully, “it’s nothing bad. I promise. It’s just..I’m worried you might not..like it?” You said for lack of better word

Remus smiled softly and squeezed your hand, resting on his thigh reassuringly, “Whatever it is, I’m sure I will love it.”

You smiled back and handed him the vial of potion.

His face contorted back to one of confusion.

“Look at the label.” You said quietly, scanning his face for his reaction.

You watched him turn the bottle over and read the label. Once…twice..three times.

“Is this..” he said with a disbelieving tone

“It’s Wolfsbane. I’ve got plenty of more in the basket over there.” You motioned towards the basket, “My mom made it so it should work perfectly.”

His face didn’t change.

“Rem..” you said in an anxious voice.

“How..why..?” His voice broke

“I know you’ve read about it in the “Daily Prophet” about a hundred times. I asked my mom..I paid for the ingredients and my mom brewed it. For you.”

Remus took in a shaky breath and looked at you with tear-filled eyes, “You shouldn’t have.” He said, holding back tears.

You sat up and wrapped your arms around his shoulder, “I wanted to. I know how much you’ve wanted this..how much you need this. You deserve every last vile and much more.”

Remus let out a sob and buried his head into your chest.

“Thank you, thank you.” He pulled you into his lap, and buried his face into your neck, “I don’t deserve you.”

You whispered sweet things into his ear as he cried. He only continued to hold you tighter.

When pulled back from your neck you cupped his cheeks and wiped his tears from his face.

He continued to mutter words of gratitude as he pulled you into a kiss. The kiss was full of so much adoration and love, as you knew he was trying to express how grateful he was.

“I love you.” He said

“I know, and I love you too.”

As the two of you went to bed that night, wrapped in each other's arms, there was a new feeling, one that you knew Remus could feel too. It was a new sort of understanding between you and your lover, one that you were sure would last the rest of your lives.

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edited on 05/16/2024

#remus lupin x reader #remus lupin imagine #remus lupin fluff #remus lupin #remus lupin x you #young remus lupin #remus x reader #the marauders fluff #the marauders #the marauders era

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ellieclaireblack · 4 months

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sanctuaire | sanctuary

sanctuary | noun your safe and peaceful haven a comforting place of refuge and rest in a noisy, chaotic world

{brother's best friend | fem!reader x james potter} ⪼ warnings: mentions of abuse, panic attack, disorderd eating ⪼ word count: 2.6k

part three: quidditch playlist

story: sanctuaire | sanctuary

A week had passed since Sirius and I had our talk. Today was Saturday the 10th of January and it was quidditch day. The first game after the winter break and it would be Slytherin against Gryffindor. One of the most anticipated games of the season.

The excitement in the air was palpable as the day of the Quidditch match arrived. Slytherin versus Gryffindor, a rivalry that always sparked intense emotions and anticipation throughout the Hogwarts grounds. The Slytherin Royals, as our friend group was known, were particularly eager for this match, Adam and Theo both on the pitch and Flo and me in the stands rooting for them.

As we made our way to the Quidditch pitch, the atmosphere was electric. The cool January air bit at our skin, but the thrill of the upcoming game kept us warm. I could feel the eyes of my fellow students on me, their gazes filled with curiosity and perhaps a touch of speculation. The recent reconciliation with Sirius hadn't gone unnoticed, and people were bound to talk.

The stands were already buzzing with spectators, their cheers and jeers creating a lively backdrop to the upcoming clash. Florence, despite still recovering from being sick, joined us in the stands. She looked a bit pale, but her usual vivacious spirit shone through.

With the release of the Quaffle the game started and James on the Gryffindor and Adam on the Slytherin side shot to it. Slytherin gaining an advantage by getting the Quaffle first. Adam and Theo made their way to the goals passing the Quaffle back and forth. Gryffindor keeper Frank Longbottom was waiting for them. Theo aimed at the outer left goal, but Frank swerved and blocked the ball. Groans went through the Slytherin stands and all the other houses erupted in cheers.

The game continued and at 40:70 for Gryffindor I saw Reggie dash to the bottom, probably having spotted the Snitch. What he didn’t see was a bludger directly behind him. I noticed Sirius did, diving after his younger brother, but it was too late. As Reg closed his fingers around the Snitch making Slytherin the winner of the match the bludger hit him in the shoulder and he fell to the ground. Unmoving.

I jumped up in shock and sprinted down the stand making my way onto the pitch. The quidditch players got there before me, however when they saw me sprinting down they made way for me. I knelt down besides Regulus and could barely suppress my tears. James slightly touched my shoulder and I nearly broke down there and then. The coldness of the freezing January day seeped into my body more and more by the second.

Madam Pomfrey was summoned, and Regulus was brought to the hospital wing for treatment. I still couldn’t move. Only when hands made their way under my armpits and pulled me up I pulled myself together again. Sirius was steadying me.

I only know noticed Flo beside me. She grabbed my hand and we went up to the castle. Still in shock I couldn’t get out a word but my best friend just got me. We went back to our dorms and I bundled up in my bed until I was warm again, feeling incredibly exhausted all of a sudden.

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Suddenly a soft knock on my door could be heard. “Come in.”

The door opened but no one stepped in. Only steps could be heard. That damned Invisibility Cloak. “I’m not stupid. Pull the fucking cloak down.”

Suddenly James’ and Sirius’ heads were revealed. Both wearing a semi-happy expression. One I wasn’t used to. ”What’s going on? Were you in the infirmary already?” A slight nod confirmed my question and I was getting worried.

“Don’t worry. Reg will be fine, they just need the rest of the day and night, we can visit him tomorrow.” Relief washed over me. My baby brother being hurt was something that I could hardly bear to imagine.

“What are you doing here then?” I asked the guys, James having made himself comfortable on my bed. Taking up most of the space. Sirius was still hovering there, looking a bit uncomfortable. “I think James and you need to talk, so I’ll just leave the two of you for now. Okay?” I nodded growing warrier by the second. What was going on?

Sirius threw the Cloak over his shoulder again and the door was opened and closed again. James looked at me and I had trouble meeting his eyes. The whole thing felt like an intervention and I had no idea what I had done wrong.

“I had a talk with Sirius last week. I- need you to tell me what’s going on with you. Sirius won’t say a thing, repeating that it's not his story to tell. But I need to know. Since the holidays you haven’t been the same and I’m worried about you. You’re important to Sirius, important to me.” I swallowed my throat feeling incredibly dry all of a sudden.

“Okay, but promise you won’t tell anybody else. Nobody besides my family knows and nobody can get word of this.” A nod from James let me carry on, taking a deep breath. I was about to lay my deepest, darkest secret bare in front of him. Troublemaker, jokester James, who wasn’t known for being able to keep something to himself.

“As you already know my dearest mother is a horrid person. During the holidays, the night when Sirius … left. When she found out she blamed me and… and she used some curses on me. Some Unforgivables, especially the C-Cruciatus Curse.” James looked like someone had slapped him, his eyes were a bit glossed over and his expression nearly broke my heart.

“I- I don’t even know what to say. I mean I’ve met your mother but Unforgivables. Wow, I'm speechless.” A minute of silence passed. James looked so disgusted I thought he would leave any minute. Maybe I’ve finally managed to scare him away. My biggest fear has always been scaring off my loved ones. Especially after burdening them with my problems. James’ hand brushed my arm and I flinched. James looked stricken, with shock.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t- don’t want to scare you. y/n I can hear your mind working overtime. Don’t worry I’m not scared of you, just incredibly worried. I- We need to get you out of that house, you can’t keep staying there. Nobody knows what’ll happen the next time when you’re home. By Merlin’s b-”

“James, stop. I appreciate you worrying about me, but I’ll stay home. I explained it to you last week. I can’t leave my father and Regulus. I am a big girl, you don’t need to worry about me. There’s no room for discussion about this and to be frank I’m sick of everybody looking out for me. I’m not some damsel in distress.” I tried to make matters sound lighter than they were. I knew I couldn’t convince James, but there was no way that I’d leave my home. As much as I hated it sometimes, there were so many treasured memories there that I couldn’t just leave.

James was about to answer but a knock on my door interrupted us. Flo stuck her head in the door, clearly surprised about James’ presence. “Dinner time, come on you two.”

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The Great Hall was filled with light chatter and the Slytherin table was no exception of that. My friends were talking about the upcoming Hogsmeade weekend, but I kept to myself. Shooting some glances over to James at the Gryffindor table. He looked distressed and while Sirius tried to cheer him up it didn’t seem to work.

Shaking my head I loaded some food onto my plate. Taking a few bites of my jacket potato I suddenly noticed Lilou, my owl, flying towards me and dropping a letter in my hands. I pet her and fed her a treat and she was off again. My papa gifted me the owl for my first year at Hogwarts and she’s become a companion of mine since then.

I looked at the letter and saw a Noble House of Black crest before I noticed her handwriting. Queasiness overcame me and I opened the letter. Careful not to draw attention to myself.

"Dearest daughter,

I trust you are maintaining the standards expected of a Black. It has come to my attention that you have been seen fraternizing with undesirable individuals. Your recent behavior is unacceptable, and you will face consequences if you continue down this path.

Your duty is to uphold the honor and purity of the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black. I suggest you reflect on your choices and make amends.

Also I expect you to come home in a fortnight, since I’m hosting a ball I want you and Regulus to be present on. Make sure you still fit in your dress when you get back otherwise there will be consequences.

Regards, Walburga Black"

I dropped my fork and it clattered loudly as it hit the plate. Half of Slytherin was mustering me now. I got up and made my way out of the Great Hall. Not rushing, I didn’t want to alarm anyone. My appetite had suddenly vanished. I had always had a difficult relationship with food. My mother making it extra hard for me.

The weight of my mother's words bore down on me as I walked through the corridors of Hogwarts. The letter echoed the familiar tone of control and disdain that she always carried. I felt a mix of anger, frustration, and fear. The upcoming ball was a threat, and the consequences she spoke of were undoubtedly severe.

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I decided to head to the one place where I felt a semblance of peace – the Astronomy Tower. As I climbed the steps, I couldn't shake the feeling that my life was spiraling out of control. The cold wind greeted me as I reached the top, and the stars above provided a comforting backdrop.

I sank down onto the cold stone floor, my mind racing with thoughts. What could I do to avoid the impending disaster that awaited me at home? How could I protect Regulus from our mother's wrath? And what about my friendships with the Marauders?

Lost in my thoughts, I didn't notice someone approaching until a voice spoke, "Mind if I join you?"

I looked up to see James standing there, concern etched on his face. I nodded, and he sat down beside me. "What happened? You looked like you received some bad news back in the Great Hall."

I hesitated for a moment, contemplating whether to share the contents of the letter with him. But the look in his eyes told me that he genuinely cared, so I handed him the parchment.

As he read the words, his expression hardened. "This is ridiculous. Your mother can't control every aspect of your life. You have to stand up to her."

Easier said than done, I thought. Deep down I knew James was right – I couldn't let her dictate my every move. "I just... I don't know how to handle this. The ball, the threats. It's overwhelming."

“I’ll figure something out. You’re not going to that ball, I’ll make sure of it.” Frustration filled me. James was just trying to help, however he didn't know how Maman could get when her commands weren’t listened to.

“James, I appreciate you trying to help, but there’s no way I’m not having to go there. It’ll be fine, if I just behave for once she hasn’t got a reason to be angry with me.” I tried to reason with him. My mother was hard to please, but if I stopped talking to Sirius and his friends the next couple of weeks, minded my food intake and got full marks on all my tests and homeworks it would be fine. That wasn’t so hard, except the ignoring Sirius part. I’ve done the rest my whole life. My grades and my weight is something I can be in control of and while I wouldn’t admit it out loud I resonated with Maman about maintaining some sort of superiority.

James sighed out loud, though he didn’t press on the matter anymore, knowing he couldn’t change my mind anyway. I was grateful for it. He was incredibly headstrong but he knew when he couldn’t get through with something and when best to change topics.

“Look there’s Reggie and Sirius.” I pointed out the constellations, the both of them being so familiar to me that I always found them. When I missed your brothers during the holiday I caught myself stargazing quite often.

James and I continued talking until I felt my eyes grow heavy. James seemed sleepy too and we decided to call it a day and head back to your dorms. With a hug I silently thanked James and the both of us parted ways. James heading to Gryffindor tower.

I thought of your brother, lying injured in the infirmary and knew I couldn’t just go to sleep now. Looking over my shoulder James was out of sight and I sneaked off in the direction of the hospital wing. I knew I wasn't allowed there, but had a feeling my baby brother needed me.

The door opened with a light squeak and I hoped Madam Pomfrey was already asleep. There was only one occupied bed and Regulus’ eyes fluttered open as the sound of footsteps were heard.

His whole face lights up when he sees me. My little brother has always had a soft spot for his siblings. My heart warmed and all the troubles I was facing seemed to vanish. Reg had that effect on me. He was my sunshine. Many people wouldn’t believe the snarky, sassy and mean Regulus Arcturus Black had such a soft side. That was the side I loved most about him, when he just lets himself be happy and accept the love he receives from us.

“Oh Reggie, don’t ever frighten me like that again.” I broke the silence first. Regulus almost looked guilty and I regretted my choice of words immediately. Regulus always found a way to blame himself, even if he wasn’t the cause of the problem.

“I’m so sorry, Dimples. Such a stupid mistake has never happened to me.” Him calling me “Dimples” melts my heart away. It makes me think of times where Sirius still lived with us and where most days there wasn’t a care in the world. Except when mother was displeased with something. Which didn’t happen as often back then, since we did everything we could to please her.

I sat beside Reggies bed and smiled sadly at him. “Don’t be sorry, it’s not your fault. Still I worry about you. It’s an older sibling thing.” He smiled back and when he wanted to turn to look at me he visibly flinched. Seeing him hurt made me want to punch somebody. Since the day he was born I was protective about him. Sirius and I at only 3 years old had sworn to protect him from all the horrid things in the world. Seeing him so frail made me feel like I had failed.

I took his hand in mine and slowly drew soothing circles. More to calm myself down than him. A few hushed words were exchanged, but I could feel my eyes fluttering shut.

Then I drifted off. The day had worn me out and dreamland awaited me.

a/n: finishing the chapter was harder than expected, since i didn't really find a good ending to it. but i like it the way it is now. also walburga slander is always welcome. literally everytime i'm writing her im so close to just killing her off. anyhow, i hope you guys are enjoying it so far and are fine with my random updates i'll try to at least make them weekly, but we'll see how that'll go. xoxo and lots of love ellie <3

p.s: if anybody has whishes / feedback my inbox is always open!! p.p.s: make sure to check out the spotify playlist (linked above) for the story -> song recomendations are also welcome

#hogwarts #james potter #james potter x reader #marauders #romance #peter pettigrew #remus lupin #sirius black #black!reader #james potter x black!reader #dead wizards from the 70s #james potter x y/n #james potter x you #james potter x fem!reader

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hollowed-theory-hall · 4 months

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Dumbledore is a Manipulative Piece of Shit: Part 1/?

Since I read the books for the first time at the age of 12, I knew I didn't trust Dumbledore. Back then, I couldn't put my finger on why. But now, a bit over a decade later, I can.

Not only can I explain why I thought something's fishy, but I can prove it is.

This is going to be a long series... but let's start at the beginning:

Halloween 1981

I'm going to go about this in chronological order of events according to book quotes I could track down.

Before the Prophecy

Circa October 24, 1979 - Lily gets pregnant with Harry. According to reverse calculating due date.

Sometime between March 1980 and October 1980 Peter Pettigrew starts spying for the Order.

"(Dumbledore) was sure that somebody close to the Potters had been keeping You-Know-Who informed of their movements...Indeed, he had suspected for some time that someone on our side had turned traitor and was passing a lot of information to You-Know-Who."

(Prisoner of Azkaban, page 205)

We know that there was a spy in the Order that fed Voldemort information before James and Lily went into hiding. Sirius mentions Peter being a spy for a long time again later in Prisoner of Azkaban:

“Sirius, Sirius, what could I have done? The Dark Lord . . . you have no idea . . . he has weapons you can’t imagine. . . . I was scared, Sirius, I was never brave like you and Remus and James. I never meant it to happen. . . . He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named forced me —” “DON’T LIE!” bellowed Black. “YOU’D BEEN PASSING INFORMATION TO HIM FOR A YEAR BEFORE LILY AND JAMES DIED! YOU WERE HIS SPY!”

(Prisoner of Azkaban, page 374)

So we know Pettigrew spied for Voldemort for about a year, if not more, before October 1981. The reason I'm saying he might have spied for longer is that the Order noticed there was a spy during that year, there might've been months he spied but the Order was none the wiser.

The months leading up to the attack on the Potter

So, we know when Peter started feeding Voldemort information, but we need to know when exactly the prophecy was given and when James and Lily went into hiding under the Fideliulous Charm. Most fans I see, seem to think they were hiding for only a week, then Peter betrayed them and then they died that same night. I think it went a little different. I think they were hiding for much longer.

So, let's determine this from the Evidence we are given.

The picture of the Order of the Phoenix Moody shows Harry in book 5 is the final picture of the Order togather before the Potters went into hiding. Most fans date this photo to the summer of 1980. I think it has to be earlier than that for two simple reasons:

Lily isn't pregnant and Harry wasn't born

Alice isn't pregnant and Neville wasn't born

“...That’s Frank and Alice Longbottom —” Harry’s stomach, already uncomfortable, clenched as he looked at Alice Longbottom; he knew her round, friendly face very well, even though he had never met her, because she was the image of her son, Neville....

...His mother and father were beaming up at him, sitting on either side of a small, watery-eyed man Harry recognized at once as Wormtail: He was the one who had betrayed their whereabouts to Voldemort and so helped bring about their deaths.

(Order of the Pheonix, page 174)

Remember, Harry and Neville were born at the end of July 1980, and pictures taken during that summer would show the pregnancy or taken after their births. So I think that picture was taken in 1979, although I'm uncertain exactly when. because, as I'll prove later in this post, the Potters went into hiding before Harry was born.

Next up to help us put a date to when they went into hiding is the Fidelious Charm itself, or more correctly, how it works.

The Fidelious Charm hides a piece of information within a person. It hides the phrasing of a secret, not a location.

an immensely complex spell ... involving the magical concealment of a secret inside a living soul. The information is hidden inside the chosen person, or Secret-Keeper, and is henceforth impossible to find -- unless, of course, the Secret-Keeper chooses to divulge it.

(Prisoner of Azkaban, 205)

It can be used to hide a location like we see the Order of the Phoenix do:

Dumbledore's Secret-Keeper for the Order, you know -- nobody can find Headquarters unless he tells them personally where it is

(Order if the Pheonix, 115)

With the phrase that Dumbledore hides being:

The headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix may be found at number twelve, Grimmauld Place, London.

(Order of the Phoenix, page 58)

They use a specific phrasing to hide the Order's headquarters. The moment the Order stops existing, the house will stop being a secret. I'd argue the moment Grimmauld Place stopped being the Headquarters it stopped being a secret because this phrase applied no longer.

This is what we see with the Potter residence. Once James and Lily die, the Charm breaks and muggles make their way to the house:

“No, sir — house was almost destroyed, but I got him out all right before the Muggles started swarmin’ around. He fell asleep as we was flyin’ over Bristol."

(Philosopher's Stone, page 13)

The fact muggles and Hagrid could arrive at the house and see it means the Charm broke.

We also see it in Deathly Hollows when Harry and Hemione visit the Potter's cottage:

He could see it; the Fidelius Charm must have died with James and Lily.

(Deathly Hallows, page 286)

"So what?" You may ask, "we know this already,"

True, but the reason it's important is because it hints at the phrasing used when the charm was cast. It means the phrasing of the secret Peter kept being along the lines of:

"James and Lily Potter are hiding in the Potter Cottage in Godric's Hollow"

Now, this makes sense to be the secret, right, but notice, Harry isn't mentioned. If Harry was part of the secret, the charm would not have broken with James and Lily's deaths, since the secret would still protect Harry. Now, why not protect Harry as well? The whole point of the Fidelious Charm was to protect Harry, was it not?

This means the Potters went into hiding and the charm was cast before Harry was born.

More that suggests they were hiding for quite a while is Lily's letter to Sirius:

Dear Padfoot, Thank you, thank you, for Harry’s birthday present! It was his favorite by far. One year old and already zooming along on a toy broomstick

(Deathly Hollows, page 158)

Meaning Harry's first birthday (July, 1981) happened when they were already under the protection of the charm. As this letter was sent a short time after it (early August 1981).

James is getting a bit frustrated shut up here, he tries not to show it but I can tell

(Deathly Hollows, page 158)

Also from Lily's letter to Sirius. James' restlessness definitely suggests they were hiding under the charm for a good few months before Harry's first birthday.

This dates the Prophecy and Trawlany's job interview around the first half of 1980 (January to May). This means the Potters were in hiding between a year and 4 months to a year and 9 months before their deaths.

All of this leaves us with two main oddities. Questions that just got me scratching my head:

If Peter was a spy since March 1980 at the earliest and October 1980 at the latest (but probably earlier), and the Potters went into hiding with him as the secret keeper in Earley in July 1980 at the latest, why not tell Voldemort immediately? And if he did, why did Voldemort wait a full year+ to go and kill the Potters?

It means that when Severus Snape came begging for Dumbledore to save Lily about a week before their deaths, Dumbledore already had the Potters in hiding. It means Dumbledore made Snape take an oath for him to do something he already did. So we see Dumbledore's first manipulations coming into play by fucking Severus over and taking him as a spy without actually giving anything in turn.

The first question is one I have somewhat of an answer for in my Voldemort character analysis, but this isn't this post. This is about Dumbledore's crimes.

The Night Everything Happened

Now we arrive at the night that changed the Wizarding World and the life of one Harry Potter. October 31st, 1981.

I time Voldemort’s arrival at Godric's Hollow at the late evening (around 8 PM). This is due to children being allowed outside still:

The night wet and windy, two children dressed as pumpkins waddling across the square, and the shop window covered in paper spiders, all the tawdry Muggle trapping of a world in which they did not believe

(Deathly Hollows, page 295)

And Harry (a year and four months old infent) still being awake, but clearly preparing for bed:

the tall black haired man in his glasses, making puffs of colored smoke erupt from his wand for the amusement of the small black-haired boy in his blue pajamas

(Deathly Hollows, page 295)

So, Voldemort arrives at Godric's Hollow around 8:00 PM, let's say, 15 to 20 minutes later, James and Lily are dead, Voldemort’s body is destroyed and he runs off to Albania. Baby Harry is crying and the Fidelious is broken.

Now, things get interesting. Well, more interesting.

We know the first on the scene is Peter Pettigrew, arriving around 8:30 PM, and retrieving Voldemort’s wand. We don't actually know when or if this happened beyond a quote from JKR, but as muggles and aurors searched the house, it's unlikely Voldemort’s wand was there and undiscovered.

Then Pettigrew ran away to the muggle street where he would meet Sirius.

The second on the scene is Reberus Hagrid.

Hagrid arrives sometime later when muggled started looking into what happened now that the Fidelious Charm is broken:

“No, sir — house was almost destroyed, but I got him out all right before the Muggles started swarmin’ around. He fell asleep as we was flyin’ over Bristol."

(Philosopher's Stone, page 13)

Around the same time Pettigrew arrived at Godric's Hollow, Sirius probably saw Peter wasn't home and realized the Fidelious was broken. So he heads to Godric's Hollow.

The night they died, I’d arranged to check on Peter, make sure he was still safe, but when I arrived at his hiding place, he’d gone. Yet there was no sign of a struggle. It didn’t feel right. I was scared. I set out for your parents’ house straight away. And when I saw their house, destroyed, and their bodies . . . I realized what Peter must’ve done . . . what I’d done. . . .

(Prisoner of Azkaban, page 365)

Sirius reaches the Potters and meets Hagrid there, outside the house, Harry already in Hagrid's arms:

“I met him!” growled Hagrid. “I musta bin the last ter see him before he killed all them people! It was me what rescued Harry from Lily an’ James’s house after they was killed! Jus’ got him outta the ruins, poor little thing, with a great slash across his forehead, an’ his parents dead . . . an’ Sirius Black turns up, on that flyin’ motorbike he used ter ride. Never occurred ter me what he was doin’ there. I didn’ know he’d bin Lily an’ James’s Secret-Keeper. Thought he’d jus’ heard the news o’ You-Know-Who’s attack an’ come ter see what he could do. White an’ shakin’, he was. An’ yeh know what I did? I COMFORTED THE MURDERIN’ TRAITOR!” Hagrid roared.

(Prisoner of Azkaban, page 206)

Sirius then goes after Pettigrew, after failing to take Harry from Hagrid and figuring he'd rather chase the rat down before he disappears. We all know how that ends, as Hagrid takes Harry according to Dumbledore's orders.

‘Give Harry ter me, Hagrid, I’m his godfather, I’ll look after him —’ Ha! But I’d had me orders from Dumbledore, an’ I told Black no, Dumbledore said Harry was ter go ter his aunt an’ uncle’s. Black argued, but in the end he gave in. Told me ter take his motorbike ter get Harry there. ‘I won’t need it anymore,’ he says. “I shoulda known there was somethin’ fishy goin’ on then. He loved that motorbike, what was he givin’ it ter me for? Why wouldn’ he need it anymore? Fact was, it was too easy ter trace.

(Prisoner of Azkaban, page 206)

This quote has quite a few interesting things about Dumbledore, Hagrid and Sirius.

First, Hagrid says Dumbledore gave him orders to take Harry to the Dursleys. This order was given before Sirius went after Peter, before he was arrested and sent to Azkaban.

This is illegal. At this point in time Sirius was Harry's legal godfather and guardian, and yet Dumbledore gave Hagrid this order. And yes, you could argue it was because he knew Sirius was the Secret Keeper and was wary of him, but:

“Hagrid,” said Dumbledore, sounding relieved. “At last. And where did you get that motorcycle?” “Borrowed it, Professor Dumbledore, sir,” said the giant, climbing carefully off the motorcycle as he spoke. “Young Sirius Black lent it to me. I’ve got him, sir.” “No problems, were there?”

(Philosopher's Stone, page 13)

Dumbledore hears Hagrid met Sirius when retrieving Harry and shows no concern. Like he doesn't consider Sirius a threat to Hagrid and Harry. But then, why take Harry away? Why support Sirius' arrest? (More on that in a later post)

Not only is all this highly illegal but how did Dumbledore know when the Potters died?

JK explained he had some magical alarms in place, but that means at the earliest he would've known the moment Voldemort entered the premises. But he knew before. He knew James and Lily would die that day before they died.

How do I know that?

Simple, Hagrid can't apparate and didn't arrive via broom or floo.

Hogwarts, where Hagrid is during October as Grounds keeper, is in the Scottish Highlands (Higher up as they travel for about 9-10 hours by train from Kings Cross to reach Hogwarts as they leave at eleven and arrive for dinner). Godric's Hollow is in West Country, England. This distance is a 9-10 hour drive (672.03 km, 417.58 miles).

It means that for Hagrid to arrive by 9 PM at Godric's Hollow, Dumbledore told him to go fetch Harry, the order was given to Hagrid between 11-12 noon on October 31st.

This already paints Dumbledore in a bad light, it means he planned this. I'd argue he even planned for Voldemort to hear of the Prophecy (but that's a different post). But it means Dumbledore planned for the Potters to be killed that night.

Second, Hagrid is right about Sirius giving his bike being odd (But that's a different post about the Fidelious Charm). But, in short, something was up and Sirius knew, at least somewhat, that he was doomed.

The Boy Who Lived

Finally, we arrive at the first chapter of Philosopher's Stone. We follow Vernon Dursely throughout his day on November 1st. We know that because we see the Wizarding World celebrating the death of Voldemort:

He’d (Mr. Dursley) forgotten all about the people in cloaks until he passed a group of them next to the baker’s. He eyed them angrily as he passed. He didn’t know why, but they made him uneasy. This bunch were whispering excitedly, too, and he couldn’t see a single collecting tin. It was on his way back past them, clutching a large doughnut in a bag, that he caught a few words of what they were saying. “The Potters, that’s right, that’s what I heard —” “ — yes, their son, Harry —” Mr. Dursley stopped dead. Fear flooded him. He looked back at the whisperers as if he wanted to say something to them, but thought better of it.

(Philosopher's Stone, page 6)

So, McGonagall is watching over the Dursleys throughout November 1st. It means Harry arrived at the Dursleys around midnight between November 1st and November 2nd.

Hagrid and Harry left Godric's Hollow on Sirius' flying motorbike around 10 PM at the latest on October 31st. So what was Hagrid doing with Harry in these 26 hours?

The only information we have is that Harry: "fell asleep over Bristol,"

Thing is, if we go back to the map of the UK.

Bristol is not really on the way from Godric's Hollow to Surry.

But it is closer to the flight path between Godric's Hollow and Hogwarts.

(The locations are estimated for fictional locations but are based on what I know. Regardless, West Country to Surry won't pass over Bristol, while West Country to the Scottish Highlands is likely to, so the point stands)

In conclusion, Dumbledore manipulated Harry's life, his parents' deaths, Snape, Sirius, and Hagrid, and fucked them all over for the sake of his grand plan of defeating Voldemort.

What else went into his plan and who else he fucked over, will be covered in the next installments.

#harry potter #harry potter theory #harry potter thoughts #wizarding world #overthinking #hp theory #hollowedtheory #albus dumbledore #sirius black #james potter #lily potter #peter pettigrew #Dumbledore Analysis #lord voldemort #voldemort #first wizarding war #lily evans #severus snape

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