#old man Voldy!

[racfoam]

omg, i NEED super old man voldy in your muggle AU.

I love that AU , it's so unique, and i LOVEE the characterisation of voldy in it <33

and your writing in the snippets!?!?

AMAZINGG!!

have a good day or night Rac!

Heello, anon.

I totally get you, anon, super old man Voldy is... 👌👌

Also, it's like you're a prophet, anon, because after I sent that Muggle AU I then made another Muggle AU where Voldy is an old man as in he's in his 70s as he was in the last canon book and I really like the concept so myb I change it up that he's older in the original Muggle AU I wrote...

I'm glad you loved the Muggle AU and Voldy's characterisation in it, I loved writing him! <3

I'm happy to hear you love the snippets!Thank you, anon! ❤️❤️❤️

Here is an Old Man Voldy description I wrote for that 2nd Muggle AU literally a day after writing the first Muggle AU. Most is pretty much the same setting-wise, he's just in his 70s— his canonical age difference with Harry— instead of his 50s.

***

-> First Meeting

A tall, elderly man with a head of tidily brushed grey hair sat on the chair. His pale face was striking, well-aged. He had pale lips surrounded by complimenting age lines, and clean-shaven cheeks. His frame was unnaturally tall and morbidly skeletal, with long, slender fingers and aged palms.

Dark brown eyes with a red hue lifted, moving to settle their gaze on Harry upon her entrance into the room. They settled on her scar. Recognition momentarily flashed inside the eyes. They changed their light, black orbs expanding hungrily.

If an old man could be called drop-dead-gorgeous, Harry would describe this elderly man as such. He painted a picturesque image of old age, as though he belonged in one of the portraits of royalty and long gone, elderly conquerors, commanding a captivating and powerful presence. 

Harry knew, by laws of nature, merely a few lucky people with good genetics could end up good-looking at an old age of seventy-four. Voldemort was one of them.

-> Old Man Voldy going on a murder spree? More likely than you think.

“Shame,” said Voldemort detachedly, staring down at the guard's unmoving body without a single flicker of emotion. “I thought he’d struggle more.”

Blood dripped down his long fingers. Frowning, he wiped them on his prison trousers, painting the grey fabric with traces of red.

-> Voldemort hunting after Harry

Come on, Harry. thought Harry to herself, hating how cowardly she was, hiding under the sink, clutching the kitchen knife like a lifeline. He's an old man. How fast can he be? You can outrun him. Don't be a coward.

The cupboards continued opening on the other side. If Harry was going to make a move, she needed to do it now. Otherwise, Voldemort would find her.

Come on, Harry. Come on, Harry!

Before she could lose the feeble wisps of courage she gathered, Harry lunged out of the cupboard — she heard Voldemort crow in delight — scrambled up and ran for the open doors, toward the light-filled hallway.

She managed to reach it, running out into the light, but she heard bare footsteps following after her, so she grabbed a box filled with glass milk bottles and threw it over the doorframe on her way out to slow Voldemort down.

Glass shattered, loud and echoing through the empty halls. There was no time to stop and look if the glass did the trick — Harry turned a corner and ran.

-> Voldemort catches Harry (Gore, Violence)

“Yes, you're young,” he whispered against her ear. “You're fast. You're agile. You even have good instincts.”

Harry cried out as Voldemort twisted her arm further. The knife — her only defense, her only weapon to keep him at bay — slipped out of her grasp, her fingers releasing it, overwhelmed by the pain shooting up her nerves.

It fell to the puddle under the heavy torrent of the rain.

“But you lack the most important thing.” whispered Voldemort, his wicked voice slithering over her skin like a deadly serpent. “Experience.”

“You heal people, Harry. I hurt them.” It was a monstrous, terrible growl at her ear. Voldemort was too heavy for Harry to get him off. He sat on her back, and she had to endure it, endure it until he was satisfied, until he killed Harry, too... “You know how to heal them, I know how to hurt them.” Voldemort picked up the knife from the puddle. Harry stopped breathing, and she bit down on the sob trying to claw its way out of her breasts. “I know what veins to cut, what bones to break. Though, we both know what organs a human can’t live without...”

Harry shivered. The rain was drenching her skin, drenching her clothes. It was heavy and merciless, the raindrops hammering on her body like hail. It felt so cold...

“So, you are faster than me.” concluded Voldemort, like he was a university professor whose students finally came to the conclusion he wanted them to. “That means I can't have you running.” 

The knife slithered adoringly down Harry's leg. 

This time, Harry couldn’t help it; the fear was too great. A dry, desperate sob slipped out of her mouth.

“Shhh,” cooed Voldemort, drawing his free hand over Harry’s nape; his fingers were warm and smooth. There was a slight wrinkle to his palm. “It’s all right. I’ll just stab your knee, darling.”

The rain slithered a wet path down Harry’s neck. Paired with the pattering of the rain, Harry heard the rumble of  faraway thunder.

Voldemort pressed his face into the back of Harry’s head. He lowered his entire body over Harry, his chest pressed against her back. His hair and face was wet from the rain, pressing into Harry’s dark tresses. The rain no longer plummeted against her back, but Harry would have rather had the rain than the entire press of Voldemort's body along her back.

The rain continued falling. The knife settled over Harry's knee. Despite the jeans over it, Harry knew they would be torn through with the force of the knife’s thrust.

Harry whimpered again. 

“Shh,” crooned Voldemort, his voice at her ear, his body everywhere. Revulsion spread through Harry like the rain drenching her clothes and skin.

Cold. So cold.

Voldemort didn’t draw the knife back. Instead, he plunged the blade into the skin, thrusting it deep, tearing through denim, flesh, and into the bone.

The roar of thunder covered Harry’s scream.

Warm blood dripped in the cold puddle of the rain.

The knife retreated, and the agony in her knee enhanced tenfold, pulling another pained scream from Harry. 

The pain was too much. Harry started to weep, hot tears joining the cold rain on her drenched face.

“It’s all right.” Anger and terror boiled through Harry at the sound of the voice. “I know it hurts. You did so well, Harry.”

Harry wept, crying like a scared child. She couldn’t feel her right knee, only a stabbing, burning pain inside it. 

“My brave girl,” he cooed, his voice clear through the sound of the rain. Then, he bent down and kissed the crown of Harry's head.

A dry kiss on her wet head.

Voldemort got off of Harry, then bent down — Harry wailed when he picked her up into his arms. 

She was shivering terribly.

Thunder flashed across the sky, painting the lines of Voldemort’s face, momentarily casting him in terrible light.

Harry’s heart momentarily stopped at the sight. Voldemort brought Harry to his chest; it was burning warmth there. Pressed against his warm body, Harry eventually stopped shivering.

Under the rain, Voldemort walked toward the car, carrying Harry, leaving blood in his wake.

***

Thank you for the ask, anon! Have a good day/night! Sending love ❤️❤️

[loneamaryllis]

So I was talking with @racfoam about her Harrymort Muggle AU, specifically this one, and I said I'd write Harry giving Voldemort a blowjob while he holds a knife to her throat.

And I did. Here:

The cold floor bit into her knees, but Harry was more concerned about the edge of the blade that was currently caressing her throat. Cold and sharp, it gently pressed into her skin, meandering up and down, the fine tip of it digging in, then moving on, in a repeating pattern.

Voldemort smiled down at her, his eyes glowing red in the light of the fire roaring in the hearth behind her.

"Good girl," he said, because Harry wasn't fighting, and Harry wasn't running.

No, Harry was kneeling before him, and though she hated every second of it, she was obeying him. She didn't want that knife to sink into her again.

"Undo my belt, Harry."

The knife emphasized the order with a little nudge, the blade rasping across her pulse point. Harry reached for his belt and opened it. The rigid line that was Voldemort's erection was very visible in his dark trousers, the bulge straining against the fabric. Harry really didn't want to be at eye-level with it.

"Take my cock out."

...unfortunately, she didn't have a choice.

She had seen his cock before, but she had never been this close to it, and it had never been erect. It was substantially thick, the shaft red and engorged, the tip nearly purple, and crowned with a small bead of liquid. A small shiver went down her spine, half-disgust, half-dread.

"Wrap your pretty lips around me, darling," Voldemort crooned.

Harry leaned forward and took his cockhead into her mouth. The knife followed, its edge feathering across her skin in another tender caress. Voldemort sighed in pleasure.

She licked at his cock, moving her head a little, hyper-aware that any wrong movement would end in blood. She nearly didn't register the taste of him, a salty, slightly bitter tang, though it did increase in strength when his cock leaked a spurt of pre-come right onto her tongue. A hand slid in her curls, seeking to guide her.

"Like that, yes... take a little more..."

He inched his hips forward, pushing more of his prick into Harry's mouth. She emitted a muffled sound of protest as he kept pressing more and more of his stiff cock past her lips.

"Shh, shh, you can take it..."

He groaned in audible bliss, rocking his hips forward. His cockhead breached her throat, and she gagged around him, spluttering. The knife teased along her jugular, cold, sharp, and in the hand of a man who had currently nearly his entire cock sheathed in her reluctant mouth.

"Mmmm-pphhhh," she said, tears stinging her eyes as Voldemort showed no sign of easing up.

She couldn't even breathe like that. His cock stole her air, stole her composure, stole everything from her, until she was just a trembling girl on her knees, a vessel for his dark perversions.

"You're doing so well," he praised, his hand twisting in her hair, adjusting the angle of her head so his prick lay more heavily on her tongue. "So well, Harry..."

Her vision erupted with black spots. Pressure mounted, her throat fluttered around his breaching cock, and she swore she could feel it throb, could feel Voldemort's excitement and pleasure as he forced her to take his cock.

Finally, his hips drew back, and Harry could breathe. She took a strained inhale through her nose, Voldemort's cock still occupying her mouth. He bared his teeth in a terrifying smile. Harry thought that might have been the smile his victims had seen before he had cut them into little pieces.

"Are you struggling, my dear? Shall I make this easier for you?"

He pumped his cock in shallow thrusts, staying clear of her throat. She moaned around his girth, and she didn't know if she meant to convey gratitude, or if she was protesting still. Tears were rolling down her cheeks now, and her jaw ached, stretched too wide by Voldemort's massive cock. She moaned again. Perhaps if she moaned enough he would finish fast.

"Keep looking at me, Harry. I want you to look me in the eyes while I fuck your mouth."

She made an effort to maintain eye contact. He groaned, thrusting faster. Between praises (good girl, such a hot mouth, made for me), his breaths came with moans. The knife remained steady at her throat while his hips snapped faster and faster, the sloppy sounds of the blowjob getting louder.

"I'll come down that tight throat," he groaned, the lines of his face tensing up, his mouth thinning.

Harry groaned.

"No? Ah, very well..."

He suddenly pulled out, his glistening cock an inch from Harry's face. The knife pressed up threateningly.

"Then make me come like this.. Use both hands, little bird."

Harry complied, wrapping her hands around his cock and stroking. It glided easily, his erection wet with her saliva. She worked quickly, trying to put an end to this.

"Open your mouth."

When she did, he emitted a low, dark rumble.

"Mmm, yes... I'll come right on that pretty little tongue..."

Two more strokes of her hands on his stiff cock, and cum spurted in thick jets, coating her tongue. She flinched but kept her mouth open. He released more bursts of seed, each one aimed in her mouth, until a heavy pool of cum lay on her tongue.

"Swallow."

His semen slid down her throat. He smiled, the knife shifting up, the tip of it tracing the line of her jaw.

"Thank you, Harry. I know you'd be stunning on your knees, sucking my cock, drinking my cum... and I was right."

[impishtubist]

I need someone to come talk to me about Black Pride. It's been updating for years and has 75K hits and I never see anyone on here talking about it. Surely you have read it???? Surely you have witnessed this excellent characterization of Sirius??? Surely you can come scream about this masterpiece with me????

[mrmxlemons]

I have been tweeting about this for the past hour but I cannot get over the idea Voldemort claiming Harry’s offer of redemption in the Great Hall the only way he knows how: by running from himself.

To fully repent would be to kill Lord Voldemort in his entirety, maybe not the physical body but the image Tom had been building of himself since he was a child. I think it’s impossible for him to do that, and I don’t think he’d want to.

But he’s also so terrified of dying when Harry confronts him at the final battle that he apparates away and goes into hiding. He lives in some faraway obscure place by himself and resolves to obscurity, halting his pursuit of power because the repercussions of his actions had very nearly caught up to him, and he trusts no outcome but one that he can fully control. In doing this he is unknowingly reliving the same fate of his family by falling prey to paranoid delusions and trusting no one but himself. Left to rot on his own and grow bitter from failure.

Voldemort’s home is overgrown, snakes come and go freely indoors, he rambles like the senile old man he is and refers to himself as he-who-must-not-be-named… cue creepy distant people watching because he’s lonely (he won’t admit it).

[icarusignite]

WHY DO I ALWAYS GET ATTACHED TO THE TRAUMATIZED BBYGIRLS IN MEDIA HUH?!?! 

anyone got any answers because wtf 😭😭 i get unhealthily attached and hyperfixate on them and then i must suffer as they suffer. and then i must consume unhealthy amounts of fanfics to cope lmfao. its a vicious neverending cycle. the more traumatized they are, the more I am obsessed. 

is it my “i can fix them” complex? mayhaps? or maybe i’d just make them worse 🤔

[00queasy00]

Happy birthday, ya snakey old man

(Voldy partying with his fave girl - don’t tell Bella - they’re listening to the trolls soundtracks)

[fanfic-lover-girl]

Snape being gaslit

“He must have Disapparated, Severus. We should have left somebody in the room with him. When this gets out —” “HE DIDN’T DISAPPARATE!” Snape roared, now very close at hand. “YOU CAN’T APPARATE OR DISAPPARATE IN- SIDE THIS CASTLE! THIS — HAS — SOMETHING — TO — DO — WITH — POTTER!” “Severus — be reasonable — Harry has been locked up —” BAM. The door of the hospital wing burst open. Fudge, Snape, and Dumbledore came striding into the ward. Dumbledore alone looked calm. Indeed, he looked as though he was quite enjoying himself. Fudge appeared angry. But Snape was beside himself. “OUT WITH IT, POTTER!” he bellowed. “WHAT DID YOU DO?” “Professor Snape!” shrieked Madam Pomfrey. “Control yourself!” “See here, Snape, be reasonable,” said Fudge. “This door’s been locked, we just saw —” “THEY HELPED HIM ESCAPE, I KNOW IT!” Snape howled, pointing at Harry and Hermione. His face was twisted; spit was flying from his mouth. “Calm down, man!” Fudge barked. “You’re talking nonsense!” “YOU DON’T KNOW POTTER!” shrieked Snape. “HE DID IT, I KNOW HE DID IT —” “That will do, Severus,” said Dumbledore quietly. “Think about what you are saying. This door has been locked since I left the ward ten minutes ago. Madam Pomfrey, have these students left their beds?” “Of course not!” said Madam Pomfrey, bristling. “I would have heard them!” “Well, there you have it, Severus,” said Dumbledore calmly. “Unless you are suggesting that Harry and Hermione are able to be in two places at once, I’m afraid I don’t see any point in troubling them further.” Snape stood there, seething, staring from Fudge, who looked thoroughly shocked at his behavior, to Dumbledore, whose eyes were twinkling behind his glasses. Snape whirled about, robes swishing behind him, and stormed out of the ward. “Fellow seems quite unbalanced,” said Fudge, staring after him. “I’d watch out for him if I were you, Dumbledore.” “Oh, he’s not unbalanced,” said Dumbledore quietly. “He’s just suffered a severe disappointment.”

Poor Snape. Book 3 was really bad for him. Dealing with Remus' passive aggression. Having to brew wolfsbane potion for the guy who nearly killed him years ago and said guy not seeming to care too much about said detail. Dealing with Sirius again and having him escape. Then having Dumbles gaslight him - sometimes I just have to shake my head at his old man. What a shady character. Can't believe people call these men friends. Dumbles is not Snape's friend. A friend doesn't get amusement from their friend's uncontrollable rage. Not to mention I don't know how Snape can truly be friends with the man who was his headmaster in school - the age difference is too great for a close friendship IMO. Plus Dumbles contributed to making Snape's school life hell. I literally don't understand how Snape could be friends with him OR Minerva.

If I were a better writer, I would write a fic where Snape tells both Voldy and Dumbles to screw themselves, throws Lily's memory in the trash where it belongs, moves far away from Hogwarts, opens up a successful apothecary and marries and has a small family with a lovely woman who adores him. I just want this poor man to have all the good things in the world and leave Harry's dim witted butt to someone else. There are fics where this happens...but they tend to make Snape gay for some reason :'(. Why is it so hard to have Snape marry a woman??

PS: I kind of like seeing Snape and Draco lose their absolute marbles over Harry. I feel bad for them but it is still amusing to see :')

[alwayshinny]

Hinny 💍 - The One With No Voldy and Where Everyone Lives

AU, where Harry happens to hear a conversation between his grandfather, Fleamont Potter, and his father, James. Fleamont, who has been looking weaker by the day, tells his son he knows his and Euphemia's time is coming to an end, and his only regret is not being able to witness Harry grow up and get married. This bothers Harry, and while on a playdate at the Burrow, he confides in Ginny, who responds as if it were the most obvious solution: "Then let's get married."

They persuade their families to arrange a gathering, and they con the Weasley brothers into decorating the backyard. Ron stands by Harry's side as his best man, while Luna is Ginny's bridesmaid. All it took was one look from Harry and Ginny to convince Sirius to turn into Padfoot to be their ring bearer/flower girl; his outfit consisted of a bowtie and a tutu (James, Remus, Gideon, and Fabian nearly fell off their chairs laughing so hard).

They made each other's wedding rings. Harry's ring was made from the metal from his grandma's old Auror badge (which Euphemia gave to her willingly) and the very first snitch he caught for the first time and gifted to her. Ginny convinced Fabian and Gideon to transform into a ring. Ginny's ring was made of her favorite green bubble gum (that was suspiciously similar to Harry's eye color) and twigs of their broomsticks as the band, which Harry convinced his dad and Sirius to smooth out and place an unbreakable charm on with an auto-replenishing charm on the bubble gum.

They both dressed themselves for the occasion, and Harry asked his mom and godmother Marlene to help him pick flowers for Ginny's bouquet. He smelled each one and was very picky persistent it had to smell like Ginny's hair. It took Harry HOURS until he was finally satisfied with the arrangement. Molly volunteered to make their wedding cake, and a few days before the wedding, Ginny told her dad in a very grown-up tone to wear a bowtie because he was walking her down the aisle on Sunday. Hinny asked Hagrid to marry them, and when it was time to kiss the bride, Harry was just about to protest/lecture Hagrid about how he should have asked Ginny for her consent instead of giving him permission "to kiss the bride" (the boy was Lily Potter's son and a true feminist at heart), when Ginny pulled Harry down and gave Harry a big kiss on the lips. The kid was frozen for a solid minute and then couldn't stop smiling as he followed his 'wife' around all day.

They made Fleamont and Euphemia's wishes come true.

Then, 16 years later, they got married again.

[george-weasleys-girl]

YULE TIDE REQUEST COMING IN HOT BC ITS COLD

Could you write something where the Weasleys are heading to spend Christmas at the order after Mr Weasleys attack (so could be a bit angsty to start), and on their arrival they find Y/N there with Sirus, her Dad and her Uncle Moony, telling her and the trio how they set up the old order back in the day and reader talks about setting up a new one, but the twins (Fred is her bf) didn't know who her family was as she kept it secret, all these years, even more so as Lupin teaches them all Defence Against The Dark Arts. Maybe a bit of akwardness at first when she explains why she couldn't tell them (rumours going around the magic world etc), but cute fluff after when they continue discussing the order, open presents etc. I need cute fluff 🥰

❄️Yuletide Celebration❄️

Fancy Meeting You Here

I goofed and posted this early.🤦‍♀️My only other option was to delete it. So, here it is. Merry Really, Early Christmas! 🎁

Fred Weasley x Fem!reader

~•~

"It seems there was some rather unusual kind of poison in that snake’s fangs that keep wounds open," Arthur had explained. "They’re sure they’ll find an antidote. Though, they say they’ve had much worse cases than mine, and in the meantime, I just have to keep taking a Blood-Replenishing Potion every hour."

It was touch and go for a while, but you'd never know it talking to the Weasley patriarch. Despite excruciating pain and losing half his body weight in blood every day, Arthur had remained in high spirits throughout the whole ordeal.

Fred wished he could say the same for himself. Oh sure, he played it off well enough, making jokes and being silly, but truthfully, it had scared him. The knowledge that his dad could've died had shaken him to his very core, and he had no idea how to handle that.

He was certain things would've been better if his girlfriend was by his side. But, sadly, her parents had insisted she come home for the holidays, leaving him to muddle through on his own.

~•~

"Y/N!" Fred ran toward, picking her up in his arms and twirling her around. "I can't believe you're here!" He exclaimed before a confused look settled on his face. "Wait... why are you here?"

His girlfriend gave him a sheepish grin. "There's something I need to tell you."

Fred sat back, stunned. "Sirius is your dad?"

"Sirius Black?" George echoed.

"Yes, Sirius Black is my father." Y/N confirmed.

"But, how?" Fred blistered.

"Well, you see, when a man and a woman - " George began.

"Shut up, George," Fred cut his eyes over at his twin. "I know how," he looked back at Y/N. "But, you know... how?"

Y/N had to stifle a grin. "It's a long story, but suffice it to say, my mum isn't in the picture. My Uncle Mooney took care of me while dad was in Azkaban."

"Wow... " George marveled.

"Why did you tell me?" Fred asked.

"I had to keep it secret. Dad's on the run. Death Eaters are everywhere, and we're starting the Order back up."

"The order?" Her boyfriend looked excited at the prospect. "The Order of the Phoenix?"

"Yep," she confirmed. "With Death Eaters crawling out of the woodwork again, not to mention the possibility that Voldy could come back if he hasn't already, they thought it be a good idea to revive it. And Grimmauld Place will be the headquarters this time around."

"Wicked," Fred replied. "So, my girlfriend is in league with infamous Order of the Phoenix."

Y/N laughed. "I don't know if I'd go so far as to say that. But, yeah, kinda."

"Well," George clapped his hands on his lap and stood. "That's all I need to know right now to know this is going to be an awesome Christmas." He looked at Y/N. "Just a suggestion. You might wanna wait until Harry gets here to get into the fine details. That way, you don't have to tell it twice."

Y/N nodded. "Yeah, good idea."

George grinned. "Well, I'm gonna go find something to eat and let you two catch up."

Once George was gone, Y/N scooted closer to Fred. "I'm glad we get to spend Christmas together after all."

"Me too," he smiled. "It's been a rough couple of weeks."

"I'm really glad to see you're dad's doing better. I was really worried about him."

"So, was I," Fred admitted, his cheeks growing hot. "I - I really missed you being there with me."

Y/N smiled, pretending she didn't notice the lovely blush rise up across his cheeks and pulled him closer. "Well, I'm here with you now."

"I'm glad," Fred gave a small grin and looked down, trying to hide the stubborn crimson that'd taken up residence on his face.

"But, you know," Y/N continued. "You're failing in your duties as a good boyfriend."

"What?" Fred looked up, eyes wide.

"You've been here for a whole half hour, and you haven't kissed me once."

"Oh dear, you're right," he sat up straight, and his usual, confident cockiness came roaring back. "I must do something about that immediately."

~•~

@milivanili99 @fancy-pantaloons @turvi @zvummyummy @pansexualwitchwhoneedstherapy @georgie-weasley @nighttimemoonlover @jsjcue @wzrd-wheezes @fredweasleyyyyy @hufflepuffie @alexistonks @anvaaryn @samshifts @asuperconfusedgirl @superduckmilkshake @mysticsheepsoul @gemofthenight @1lellykins @junerprsh @sierraluvz @wolfkill16 @smallsweetvanillabean @costheticbabe @thatonepersonwhocantwrite @charmedfandomgal @loveosewood @hanne-montana @rhunew @greenapplegrass @lizzytrees @spididerman

[lulublack90]

Prompt 29 - Weapon

@jegulus-microfic March 29 Word count 926

Previous part First part

They stayed in the pool for a while, relaxing, washing the stresses of the last few weeks away. They had destroyed the Horcruxes, and now all that was left was the man himself. 

“Don’t you think that was all a little too easy?” Lily said to the group. “Shouldn’t there have been more of a fight from the Horcruxes or a swarm of Death Eaters descending on us?” The rest of the group began to look worried and spun their heads to peer into the gloomy forest. Barty, though, seemed cool as can be. 

“Na,” He grinned, head lolling back onto the bank as his eyes slid shut. “The reason they weren’t properly protected and were relatively easy to find is because old Mouldy Voldy is an—”

“Arrogant bastard!” They all chanted together in a dull monotone, cutting him off. 

“Exactly!” Barty snickered. “He assumes he is the most intelligent wizard of his age. He didn’t think anyone would figure out that he’d made the Horcruxes, so he didn’t bother putting any effort into concealing them. He gave the cup and the diary to Bella and Lucy, thinking their fear of him would make them put them in Gringotts, but forgot to factor in their need to show off. He’s completely underestimated everyone below him. The only wizard he thinks of as a peer is Dumbledore, and Dumbledore isn’t searching for Horcruxes, so why would anyone else? And I bet the only reason the Locket was harder to get than the rest was because he’s only just made it before he hid it in the cave where muggles might have walked into. Plus, with the amount of times, he’s fractured his soul and the amount of physical change his body had gone through because of it, I doubt he even felt them being destroyed.” He opened his eyes when the others didn’t say anything. “What?” He questioned. 

“Barty, I don’t think I’ve ever heard you say so many sensible words in one go, ever,” Regulus said incredulously. 

“I think he’s right, though,” Evan said, glancing around to see what the others thought. 

“Weirdly, it does actually make sense.” Remus agreed. 

When they’d had enough, they exited the pool, dried, dressed, and left the forest. 

“You did amazing, you know,” James told Regulus as they walked through the undergrowth. “I’m so proud of you.” James took Regulus’s hand and brought it to his lips to kiss. Regulus felt lighter than he had since before he’d left Hogwarts. They might actually be able to finish this and survive. 

They cast disillusionment charms on themselves just as they reached the edge of the forest and felt the change in the air as they walked through the anti-apparition wards. 

Hogsmeade looked exactly the same as usual. Perhaps Barty was right. Maybe no one knew what they’d managed to do. Then, a familiar figure appeared, walking away from Honeydukes with a bulging bag.

Someone pushed past Regulus and ran forward. 

“Who was that?” He asked urgently, unable to see who wasn’t beside him anymore. 

“Sirius!” Remus croaked. Together, they moved forward in the direction Peter had headed. Regulus spotted the plump man turning a corner and totally disappearing. 

“Sirius!” He hissed as he closed the gap. “Sirius!”

“I’ve got him!” Sirius’s voice came out of thin air. 

“Can you apparate with him?” He asked hurriedly. Sirius didn’t say anything. “Sirius, I can’t see if you nodded your head.” He rolled his eyes. 

“Oh yeah, sorry. But yes, I can apparate us both.”

“Good, get him back to Evan’s. We’ll deal with him later. Remus and I need to get back to Grimmauld.” He turned in the direction he guessed everyone else was standing. “Evan, have you got somewhere secure you can keep him that’s secure?”

“Yes, fathers got a cell in the basement.” Evans's bodiless voice answered. 

“Okay, everyone else, go back to Rosier House. Remus and I will meet you there when we can get away. James, you’ve got your mirror, don’t you?”

“Yes,” James said, his voice closer than Regulus had expected. 

“Right, let’s go.” He spun, and he was one street over to Grimmauld Place. He removed the disillusionment charm and apparated again outside number 12 at the same time that Remus did. 

“Ah, Son, you’re home!” Orion greeted them as they walked through the door. “Your Mother’s in the drawing room awaiting your return.” Reluctantly, Regulus followed his father up to where his mother waited.

“Regulus,” Walburga greeted. “I assume you’re lead was fruitful?” He’d practised what to say in case she asked, so the words came easily. 

“Yes, Maman. Unfortunately, he slipped through our fingers like the slippery creature he is. I did manage to knick him with Bella’s blade, but he was gone before I could do any real damage.” Walburga held out her hand. It took Regulus a second to realise what she wanted. Carefully, he pulled the weapon from his robes and handed it over. 

“Did you clean this blade?” She asked, eyes narrowing. 

“Yes, Maman.” She waved her wand over it and muttered a spell that Regulus couldn’t quite hear. A blood-red ghostly figure which resembled Sirius rose from the tip of the dagger. Walburga ended the spell and handed it back. 

“The Dark Lord will not be pleased by your failure.” She said, dismissing him. 

“We will try again in the morning. We will not fail the Dark Lord.” He bowed before leaving the room. He smirked as he climbed the stairs to his bedroom. They’d definitely find Sirius again tomorrow.       

Next part

[emeritusemeritus]

Vulnera Sanentur [Weasley Twins x Reader]

Part 5

Part 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14

Title: Vulnera Sanentur

Pairing: Fred Weasley x Reader x George Weasley {established relationship}

Timeline: DH1&2- Initially set during the battle of the seven potters. Canon and certain plot points have been altered for the needs of the story.

Summary: The battle of the seven Potters throws your world into chaos when one of your boyfriend’s is cursed. As Snape’s ex-potions assistant and previous protégée, you recognise the inflicted curse immediately and demand answers from your mentor.

Warnings: Angst, mentions of war and Voldy, descriptions of injury and blood, descriptive smut, p in v sex, shower sex, tension. Outside sex. Semi public sex. None sexual nudity. Crying. Snape has a soft spot for reader. Arguments. Probably some cursing. Mentions of nightmares. Reader is part of the Order of the Phoenix. Mentions of death (Dumbledore). Mentions of Tonks’ pregnancy. On it got a angsty. So much angst I can’t tag it all. Not spellchecked nor beta read, we die like Madeye.

Clearly I’m in my angst era 🖤

Three days had passed since George had lost his ear in the mission to get Harry back to the Burrow safely and each day George's wound seemed to improve dramatically; it was almost completely healed now, no longer leaking or swollen and only a little sore. His overall mood however, seemed to be deteriorating with each passing day as the reality sunk in, the insecurities and sensitivities bubbling up inside of him, despite your honest and repeated confirmation that he was still your George and still gorgeous. With each day he'd withdrawn a little more, showing less affection and had even taken to sleeping on his own in the single bed. Around the others, he laughed and joked just like normal but in private he was cold and distant with you. Fred had noticed and had pulled him up on it once or twice, delicately questioning what was going off with him, what you'd done wrong, but each time George would deflect the question and find a way to avoid answering entirely. You'd hardly interacted at all the previous day, finding it too hard to be rejected and denied by the man you loved and he had even gone as far as to get Molly to change his bandage so that he wouldn't have to be alone with you. You understood, to a point. You knew he'd be feeling insecure about it and he had a lot to process in terms of adjusting to his new normal, mourning his lost ear and no doubt processing the trauma from the attack, but you still couldn't help but feel devastated that he was outwardly rejecting you, pushing you away, especially after you'd tried everything to help him.

You'd thrown yourself into research, hiding away in Charlie's old, vacant bedroom which you were using as a makeshift work space for potion brewing and research. You'd brewed a myriad of helpful, healing potions, ensuring the order would always have a full supply of whatever they should need, as far as your abilities stretched at least. Text books and old potion books were littered around you as you frantically searched for any hope that you could regenerate or replace George's ear but so far there was nothing. Cursed limbs could not be replaced. You'd been taught that over and over by both Lupin and Snape in your school years but you couldn't stop yourself from trying anyway.

You were scribbling down notes from an old copy of Moste Potente Potions, having found an interesting article about Linfred of Stitchcombe and his medicinal advancements when a knock at the door shocked you. Before you'd even had the chance to call out, the door opened and Fred stuck his head in, his eyes flicking over the mess all around you.

"Mum says tea's nearly ready," he says, casting a sideways glance at you and then returning his gaze to the mess of books and parchment that seemed to consume you.

"Thanks but I need to finish this, can't step away from it yet," you said, gesturing towards the cauldron in the back of the room that was currently brewing calming draught, in the hopes that you could use it on George to rid his shock and trauma, at least temporarily. To accentuate your point, you lifted a finger and with a quick flick, the ladle inside the cauldron stirred the blue-hued liquid, the peppermint scent filling the room even more as it stirred and mixed together.

You heard Fred let out a sigh and you caught sight of him just in time to see his shoulders droop just a little in defeat.

"He'll come around you know," Fred says quietly after a few moments of silence which you'd worked through, flicking through pages of a book you'd searched over and over. You knew he was right, but you were a ball of frustration and pain, desperately trying to keep yourself together and keep yourself from hurting anyone else around you.

"I know," you replied, your tone even. You didn't want to think about it anymore, or keep talking about it and so you gestured for the cauldron to stir once again and went back to thumbing through the book you'd pulled.

When you heard the door shut, you immediately sank into yourself and cast the book aside aggressively, tears falling from your eyes before you could stop them. Only days ago you'd woken up in your bed beside the two men you loved most in the world, completely unaware of what would happen, though of course you knew it was dangerous. Even after, you'd woken up in George's arms and everything seemed manageable, like you could navigate through it together and be there for him, only he didn't want you to. He pulled away and you felt lost, robbed and guilty for pulling away from Fred to give George some space from you, hoping he'd come around soon.

You never made it to dinner that night, nor breakfast the next morning as you agonised over your notes, feeling like there was something missing. Neither George nor Fred had been up since then and you'd worked through the night, stopping only briefly for a few hours sleep as you crawled into the bed out of sheer exhaustion, your eyes not able to comprehensively read anything anymore.

You aggressively sighed when a knock at the door stopped your obsessive reading but when Hermione's voice called out from beyond the door, you put down your book and frowned, curious as to why she would need you. You called out for her to enter and tried to smooth back your hair, particularly the strands you'd pulled out of your haphazard braid in sheer frustration.

She stepped through the door holding a glass of pumpkin juice and a plate of toast, seemingly unfazed by your crazed lair of books.

"Molly sent this," she said, placing down the crockery on the table beside you before moving to sit down on the floor in front of you, crossing her legs.

"Thanks," you said in reply, looking at her with questioning eyes, waiting for the mini lecture to come.

"Have you had much luck?" She asks, gazing at your notes briefly, "Fred said you had been brewing non-stop. Calming Brew is notoriously difficult, I've never been able to."

"Hermione," you said firmly but gently, stopping her kind but unappreciated small talk. "Why are you really here?" You walked the line between firm and rude, hoping that you were falling somewhere on the lighter side but in your exhaustion and overstimulated state, it was hard to tell. Her hands fall to her lap as she plays with them, taking a deep breath as if she's gathering courage.

"Dumbledore gave Harry a task before he died, something which we're sure is crucial to defeating you-know-who, but it's hard to know where to even start, where we need to go and what we might need," she says, not making eye contact. Even in your sleep deprived state, you can tell she's holding back information but right now you were loathe to care. "I'm trying to be prepared for every eventuality, I've been gathering things for months, knowing we might need to leave at any time but there's so much more we might need."

"And you want me to brew some potions for you?" You said, filling in the blanks. Only then does she look up at you with a slight frown, considering her next words carefully.

"Actually, we want you to join us."

You instinctively frown at her in reply, all words falling flat on your tongue as you consider her words.

"Me, why? You finally manage to ask, astounded by her request.

"Y/n," she says, a small, polite smile tugging at her lips, "you're a brilliant witch, a master of potions and the magic you produced to heal George was something I've only ever read about in history books. We hadn't asked you before because we knew you'd never leave Fred and George but it seems the three of us won't be able to do it alone, we had to ask."

You sat in silence as you processed her words, conflict building inside you as you considered your options. Truthfully, your current emotions and circumstances were guiding your decisions but you couldn't deny it was an intriguing proposal. You knew Hermione was serious from the crease in her brow that had only seemed to get more prominent with each passing day.

"I assume there's no time frame?" You ask, feeling your frantic mindset fading from you, a calmness overtaking you instead. She shook her head and averted her eyes down to the book which was laid out in front of her.

"And I can't tell anyone?" You assumed.

"I wiped my parents memory, they don't know I exist anymore," she said in a small voice, wringing her hands harder now, the skin of her palms turning pure white, "it was safer for them, and for me. The order don't know but Ron is telling Molly tonight. You can tell F-"

"Better not to, at least right now," you interject quickly, shooting down that line of thought. She nods in understanding and you let out a deep breathe you'd not realised you'd been holding, breathing restricted by the tension within you.

"Can I think about it?"

"Of course," she says with a smile, moving to stand as she wipes off her hands on the front of her jeans. She gives you a little smile and walks out, leaving you alone with your thoughts.

You begin to clear up the books and notes, placing them in a mostly neat pile in the corner, focusing your attention on the batch of muffling draught, that had been requested by Madeye before he died for Order use.

You left it barely simmering and took a seat on the unmade bed you'd been sleeping in and let out a long and drawn out sigh. Thoughts were swirling in your brain of every possible option and path. Could you leave Fred and George? What if something happened whilst you were away? What if you never came back? Being away from them when they were transporting Harry was sheer torture, could you go through that again? Or rather, could you put them through that?

The possibility of helping bring down Voldemort was incredibly appealing, knowing that the cause and the Order was more important than personal lives now, the imminent threat of an outright war seeming more and more likely with each passing day. Harry was the best chance we had of defeating Voldemort and your role in the Order was to accomplish this by any means necessary, even if it meant great personal sacrifice.

You sat stewing on your thoughts for a while, making a virtual pros and cons list in your mind, trying to plan ahead but without knowing what needed to be done, it was impossible.

A movement from outside the house caught your eye and you moved over to the window to look out into the garden and surrounding fields, seeing the Weasley men outside erecting the large white marquee for the wedding tomorrow. Fred and George were off to one side whilst Ron and Arthur stood on the other, all of them brandishing their wands in an effort to raise and set up the large tent. Your gaze lingered on Fred before moving to George, who looked in good spirits as they joked between themselves. A flash of pain ran through you as you considered walking out and helping but realising that George would probably ignore you or make excuses to leave, rejecting you once again.

You were about to look away when you noticed a figure in the distance suddenly appear as if out of nowhere, walking stiffly with a large briefcase in his hand as he strode determinedly towards the Burrow. As he walked closer to the house, his facial features and appearance began to get clearer to you, his somewhat familiar, droopy face that seemed to be fixed into a neat permanent frown and shoulder length brown hair.

Rufus Scrimgeour. The new Minister for Magic.

You hurriedly ran down the staircase and rushed into Fred and George's room, quickly throwing a fresh shirt on and began walking out into the kitchen when you saw the minister walk into the house, guided by Arthur.

"I'll need Mr Potter, Mr Ronald Weasley, Miss Hermione Granger and Miss y/n y/l/n," he says after shooting down any small talk formalities. Almost immediately, you feel two sets of eyes land on you, both from the 6ft 3 redheads who were hovering around the door. "We'll need somewhere private," he says, looking around at the multiple sets of eyes who are all looking between themselves in suspicion.

"And to Miss y/n y/l/n, I leave my lebetum, in the fond hope that you will never need this.”

The minister then handed the black object to you, a curious looking thing, something you’d never seen nor heard of before. It was similar to the deluminator in ways, looking like the first of its kind. It was long and cylindrical, ornate in design with a fragment of misted glass embedded onto the front. You turned it over in your hand and frowned, looking down at the curious object.

When the Minister left, you, Ron, Hermione and Harry sat in silence for a few moments, all of you processing what had just happened with Albus Dumbledore's will and the bequeathments. Why had Dumbledore chosen you? The golden trio made sense and you'd been close to Dumbledore of course but it was a big surprise to be included.

"It seems Dumbledore wants you onboard too," Harry says after a moment, taking your eyes flicker to his, the glare from his light reflecting glasses shielding his eyes from you.

"Yeah, have you thought about it?" Ron asks, his hand running along the seams of his corduroy trousers, a pair that you recognised Fred abs George to have worn a few years ago, a tiny splatter of ink still visible on the right knee.

You sighed, unsure.

"Still deciding, I want to but," you said, trailing off. You pulled the sleeves down over your hands, trying to give yourself a little regulatory comfort.

"You can't leave them behind," Hermione says softly, anticipating your answer. You nod gently, not meeting anyone's eyes as flashes of Fred and George play in your mind. The thought of leaving them makes your stomach turn uncomfortably, makes you want to sob at the very thought but there was a greater good that needed to be accomplished and you couldn't let fear nor personal feelings be the reason you rejected their proposal.

"But I can't be selfish, not now, if you need me then I'm with you," you say, looking up at Harry, "this task, will it work?"

"It's the best chance we have to defeat Voldemort."

"Then I'm in."

The minute Ron told Molly about their plans, you disappeared back upstairs, away from the conflict and back up to Charlie's old bedroom. Fleur's parents would be arriving this afternoon and you needed to clear away all your stuff from the bedroom to make room for more guests. You checked on your potion and were pleased with the result, bottling it up and cleaning the cauldron with a flourish of your wand. The books, quills and parchment you'd put to one side were all cleared up and collected off the floor as you cast a quick tidying spell, cleaning the sheets and resetting the room back to it's usual setting. You carried the huge and heavy pile of books down the staircase until you stood in front of Fred and George's closed bedroom door, feeling incredibly awkward as you considered knocking, feeling unwelcome for the first time in your relationship.

You didn't knock but instead grabbed the handle and stepped in, struggling under the weight of the books as you set out to find the bag your enchanted with an extension charm.

George was lay on the bed reading when you walked in and for a brief moment you thought that everything could be normal again as he looked up at you, thinking he would open his arms for you to cuddle into, just as you always had. But that was not the case today. Instead, he shifted slightly on the bed so that his body was almost facing away from you whilst still being able to read and a fresh pang of sadness washed over you all over again. You willed yourself not to cry, at least not until you'd left the room and located your bag, placing the notes and books into the bag before moving to your other belongings.

You rummaged through your things, trying to stay quiet as to not antagonise George further before stopping and cursing, not finding the cardigan that you were looking for. You sighed and stood, walking to the set of drawers near the window and pulled out the second drawer, seeing an array of matching wool jumpers. You pulled a burgundy one out from the pile and unfolded it, seeing that it was emblazoned with the letter 'G'. In a move that upset you greatly, you folded the jumper back up and placed it back into the drawer, reaching instead for it's matching counterpart with the 'F' pattern. You closed the drawer and threw on the jumper, wanting to get out of the room immediately as the tension was much too strong and uncomfortable.

You cast a glance to George as you walk out, seeing him sprawled on the bed reading had always been one of your favourite sights, but though he of course looked handsome in the moment, you just felt empty and sad. His eyes slowly drag up to your exiting form but he says nothing and looks back to his book only moments later, apparently not feeling the need to address you at all. Anger began to simmer in you at his outward dismissal and without thought you began speaking.

"Your bandage needs changing," you say in a shockingly cold tone which sounds odd even to your own ears.

"Mum'll do it," he mumbles, barely even sparing you any attention. His words and tone only infuriate you more and you have to bite your tongue, and physically bite the inside of your cheek, to keep your composure, wanting nothing more in that moment than to scream at him. You'd seen him laughing and joking with Fred earlier, why was it just you he was so cold with? Irritation and resentment bubbled up inside of you and you had to be incredibly selective of your next words.

"I'll have to apply some potion to it tomorrow morning, help the scars," you say blankly, leaving no room for his comments as you walked out of the door, the harsh exterior falling from you the second you shut the door behind you, perhaps a little too aggressively in hindsight.

When you reached the bottom of the stairs, Molly immediately recruited you to help out with wedding preparation, having you fluctuate between helping in the kitchen with her and setting up the table for the meal which would be eaten outside on account of the numerous guests staying.

After your chores were finished, you checked to see Fred and George still de-gnoming the garden with Harry and Ron, supposedly taking extra precautions to rid all of the pests from the lawn and surrounding area. Seeing that they were occupied, you took the opportunity to slip back upstairs and entered their room determinedly as you locked the door with a flick of your wand, sat at the desk and pulled out som parchment and ink.

You weren't sure what to write, not knowing the full extent of Dumbledore's task, but you knew it would be dangerous and potentially life threatening, meaning that this letter would be the last thing they had of you if you didn't make it back.

You began with Fred's letter, finding it much easier at present to tell him all the things you needed him to know. Tears slipped from your eyes a few times with the more emotional passages as you tried to explain why you'd gone and how much you loved him. You folded up the letter once you were happy with it and slipped it into a spare envelope that the twins kept in the desk drawer for their owl post orders.

You sat looking at the blank page for what seemed like hours, trying to think of what to say to George. It was hard because you were so hurt but you chose to push that aside, knowing that this might be the last time you'd ever write to him, plus you didn't know when you would be leaving and this may had all blown over by the time he reads this letter.

You placed George's into an envelope too and considered where you were going to store them until you needed them. You thought your bag at first or maybe under their pillows but both were too risky. Instead, you walked to the shelf in the nook of the room and pulled out a potions book that was left over from your teenage years in the room. In front of that was a pinned, magical photo of the three of you, no older than 15, making a snowman outside in the Hogwarts Courtyard, all with your arms around each other with goofy grins on your face. You slipped the letters into the book, not concealing them entirely but just enough, preparing your last clue that would lead them there if you left.

"Princess?" You heard from the other side of the door as someone, who you now knew to be Fred, jingled the door handle. You unlocked the door with your wand and Fred walked in with a concerned look on his face, moving to walk over to you.

"Why was the door locked? You okay?" He asks and you smile up at him, moving to stand in front of him before wrapping your arms around his waist. His arms immediately surround you as he pulls you in to his chest, cuddling you tightly.

"Better now," you mumble into his chest, feeling instantly comforted by his touch.

"Thought I'd lost you to your work," he says playfully and you pull away just a little to crane your neck upwards to look at him.

"Still here, still yours," you smile, reaching up onto your tiptoes for a kiss which he gives you without hesitation. It's short and sweet but meaningful as his left hand clutches your waist, seemingly needing this just as much as you. You smile at each other as you pull away, only to frown a moment later when George walks into the room calling out to Fred, stopping mid conversation as he realises you are there.

Your face drops and the happiness you felt only a few seconds before slips away from you as George makes no move to join you, no joke or tease and certainly no move to steal you away from his brother as they so often did.

"I'll just... see if your mum needs any help," you mumble awkwardly, stepping out of Fred's hold and walking over to the door in defeat.

"You stupid git," you hear Fred say harshly to George just as you close the door. You desperately want to stay and listen to what they are going to say but you decide not to, knowing that it will only upset you further. You can hear the muffled sound of raised voices and a telltale humming noise that alerts you to the fact that they had used a specific silencing charm and your gut twists once again, feeling like the root of the problem. You'd only reached the fourth step down when Fred bursts through the door, shaking his head until he spots you and all the anger falls from his face. He takes your hand as soon as you'd both stepped off the stairs and he leads you to the empty lounge, sitting down first before pulling you down onto the sofa so that you fall into his lap. His arms lock tightly around you and for the first time in days you feel familiarity and comfort. So much so, that you don't even realise your eyes closing as sleep overtakes you, wrapped securely in Fred's arms.

You wake up comfy, cozy and a little confused, still cuddled into Fred though you are no longer alone. George is sat beside you both on the sofa, in touching distance and you fight against your tired eyes as they threaten to close.

"Hey sleeping beauty," Fred smirks down at you, clearly having felt you shift in his lap. You shush him and cuddle into his shoulder a little more, hesitantly flicking your eyes over to George who is, rather surprisingly, looking at you.

"Nice sleep?" He asks, his tone lighter than you'd heard in days when he'd been addressing you. You simply nod in reply, suddenly sheepish at the concept of chatting with him, expecting him to say something hurtful or pull away again if you opened your mouth. His lips turn up at the edges to give you a soft smile but you don't focus on it for long, turning instead to look around you, checking of anyone else was there. You were all alone and under regular circumstances you'd relish in the time together, knowing how rare it was when you were at the Burrow but right now it just felt awkward and weird.

"I'm gonna get a drink," you say quietly as you attempt to climb off of Fred, feeling painfully thirsty after your nap.

"I'll join you," George says as you walk away and you don't even reply, just continue walking around the corner into the kitchen. Any hope that George was going to explain himself fell flat the second you walked into the kitchen and saw Molly whizzing about like her head was on fire, a couple of her children following behind her as she prepares for Fleur's family to arrive. Dinner than night was hosted outside with gorgeous twinkling lights in the trees and a lavish spread that had taken Molly all day to prepare. You sat beside the twins and though George was a little more cordial than before, you still felt distanced from him and wished more than ever that things would just go back to normal.

Later that night you lay in bed with Fred's arm protectively draped across your waist, your body pressed tightly to his front as he spooned you from behind whilst George lay on the other side, not even remotely touching you. You'd had to push the beds together to make room for the extra cot in the room, where Ron lay sleeping just for tonight, having been evicted from his own room as Bill and Charlie took his, Arthur and Molly took Charlie's and Monsieur and Madame Delacour took Molly and Arthur's room. 

Having George this close to you only seemed to make him feel further away and you cried yourself to sleep that night, tears silently streaming down your face and soaking your pillow until you eventually fell into a restless sleep.

Next

[racfoam]

Wrote this nynn graveyard with Old Man Voldy, he deserves to have fun in nynn, too.

"Were you expecting a monster, Harriet?" Harry held her breath, staring at the old yet sharp-looking face of her soulmate. The only thing telling her there was a monster in front of her were his gleaming, red eyes, staring right at her. His long, skeletal, pale hand reached out, and she felt the pad of his thumb on her smooth skin, brushing away the strands of her hair covering her scar gently. The texture of the pad of his thumb was worn and old, sending shudders of fear up Harry's spine. "Something easier to fear?" he whispered gently. Harry couldn't breathe. Her lungs wouldn't lift. She couldn't breathe. Tears rolled out of her eyes, sliding down her cheeks.

Old Voldy finding out about Cedric by Legilimensing Harry

Old Voldy finding out about Cedric through Legilimensing Harry. "And here I thought you couldn't disappoint me. A Hufflepuff? Really, Harriet? A weak -" he hissed the words against her face, and she wondered if he would rip her skin off, "badger?" Voldemort's old face twisted into a terrible visage with his building rage, his red eyes simmering. But then, it vanished, and he smiled. He placed his hand atop Harry's head. Harry's body jumped in place, freezing solid. "It's all right," he whispered, as more tears ran down Harry's face. "You were lonely, and confused. I forgive you." The weight of his hand vanished from her head, and Voldemort stepped away from her. "Lucius," said Voldemort, not stepping away from Harry, his face intimately close to hers. "Cast the Cruciatus on Harriet. Hold it for three seconds." Harry tried to kick out, fury and hatred surging inside her, but her legs wouldn't move an inch. The hand atop her head slid to cradle the back of her head. It felt like the jaws of a predator on her neck; Harry froze. "Don't worry, Harriet," said Voldemort, a terrible smile twisting on his elegant, old face. "I'll hold you the entire time. I'll even count for you." Harry wanted to scream. To rage. To curse him. But his smile and eyes rendered her silent with terror.

And before the duel

"I'm only doing what's best for you, Harriet," said Voldemort, smiling pleasantly. Harry wanted to cut that smile off his face. "Best for me?" breathed Harry with a sneer; she was panting from terror, clutching her wand tight. Why was Voldemort so tall? Old men shouldn't be so tall. It wasn't fair. None of this was fair. "You don't get to decide what's best for me, you fossil!" Voldemort's terrible, shark-like smile simply widened. "Oh, but I do. You're my soulmate. So I do get to decide. Because you're parentless -" "It's your fault!" screamed Harry. "And underage," continued Voldemort, like Harry's scream meant nothing, like he didn't even hear it. "That makes me responsible for you, as your soulmate." He smiled, wicked and predatory. The monster peeking out through the mask of old age. "So yes, Harry, by all laws in the magical world and laws of magic, I do get to decide what's best for you."

[florsial]

rabastan and regulus???? im sat please tell me more

i fear i might disappoint since they really are just a pair of silly death eaters. To me they are like a domestic married couple with this subtle hint of "there is something but I can't put my finger on it."

Rabastan hates Bellatrix, in fact, he kind of hates all of the Blacks, that's one portion, another is the weird god/dog complex thing he has going with Rodolphus. So he sees the youngest Black (Regulus) and thinks he can kinda "save" Reg from his family's weird shit (blind leading the blind moment). Regulus, on the other hand, is living a very dull and mundane life, there isn't anything interesting happening, so when Rabastan starts cornering him, pulling him away from family dinners and functions to the protest of Walburga and Narcissa, and eyeing him up and down with weird suspicion. Regulus is like, "Let me see how this goes." They watch each other in meetings. Regulus plays the violin and Rabastan watches him when he should probably be listening to whatever Voldy is saying. Regulus didn't really go out during the War so he would just sit for hours on end watching a clock "soldier's wife" style and write unsent letters until Rabastan came back. The Soldier/Soldier's Wife dynamic is something I like between them.

They never would've said anything about actually loving each other, they just kinda fall into the domestic married dynamic over time, they sleep together, share the same bedroom, eat together, and walk together. Rabastan sits as close as he can to Regulus during meetings and they test the patience of everyone around them together. Both grow to know life with each other in it, and their presence becomes a constant with each other. Rabastan isn't all the big of a fan of change, so he's used to the scorns and glares that his family gives him, but Regulus never gave him such, so in canon, there is a feeling of bitterness and betrayal for the "one who got away" (Regulus when he dies) in canon HP books.

They are more fun in an AU though, Bad Influence/Golden Child who meet each other again after a couple years and become this quiet married couple who ignores all family dinner invites (except Sirius because Regulus is still very much the possessive younger brother) and creeps their neighbors out. They are almost too fancy for Sirius' dinners but a mess with the main family branch dinners. They send Christmas cards in July and odd presents just to see the reaction. Their anniversaries are spent exploring abandoned buildings and nearly getting lost in the woods or flying to Dubai or something.

I'm hiding this for reasons. But I love them most when it's with pre-transition Regulus. For Regulus, there is a struggle with internalized transphobia and sexism. Having a relationship with Rabastan kinda makes Regulus think "I can be normal". It allows him to live the life of a woman Regulus thinks he can be. Obviously, it's a temporary thing for him. But there is an aspect of horror in forced feminization that I kind of indulge in with characters as a trans man with no control over my looks, and it's especially prevalent in Pre T Regulus/Rabastan due to their status as wealthy purebloods and the fandom's portrayal of pureblood society as old and Victorian. It adds a sense of unease in what seems to be a perfectly normal couple.

Pre T Regulus/Rabastan in the middle of war is my favorite little thing. There is misery and there is uneasiness. They are pale, with heavy eyebags, and are like a pair of Victorian ghosts drifting about and ballroom dancing. Their relationship is the only thing keeping them sane from their families.

[duplicitywrites]

Yes yes, Tom is cool and a villain so riddled with what ifs and potential that it was probably inevitable that an entire fandom would be dedicated to essentially just him and ships involving him- but I wholeheartedly believe that the fandom would be nowhere near as big if Christian Coulson wasn’t so goddam hot. What gets you in is that he’s gorgeous. What keeps you is like, the other stuff- but also that he’s hot. Did I mention Tom’s hot? Yeah. He’s hot. Slay voldie, you will always be my number one babygirl

co-signed advocate for #1 babygirl voldemort ♥

in all honesty i think although christian being hot is a big reason for the size of the ship, the dark nature of tomarrymort keeps out the types of weirdos who believe two year age gaps are inappropriate LMFAO so while we may grow, we do not grow too big 🙏🏼

babygirl vee protects us with his old man status and for that i am thankful every day. keep slaying dead dove content, tomarrymort fandom

[mister-tom-a-dildo-lover]

we can have tomarrymort stories where harry is not a potter, not the bwl and not abused to make him a martyr for dumbledore’s cause and people lap it up and sing praises for good writing but then if you have a tomarrymort story where harry isn’t obsessed with sports, a girl who used him as a emotional crutch to deal her bfs murder, a girl who dated half the boys he knows to get his attention or desserts then you’re forcing an oc on the tomarrymort fandom and you need to get a grip and be honest or leave.

i don’t like fandom sometimes.

Funny thing, is how Harry is often raised different in those not-a-Potter Harrymort fics and tends to not be interested in Quidditch OR Cho, but no one is attacking those writers for leaving those things out.

What’s so different when a goal-oriented Harry – who only changed because of one or two major events in his early youth – doesn’t care much about a sport(that he was forced into and never told he had the option of saying ‘No’ or quitting in canon) and that makes him ‘too OOC’ but it’s acceptable for a Harry who has anyone else as a biological father and grows up in a different house with different expectations entirely, to not be into Quidditch? To not date Cho Chang or even be interested in her?

Why are things like a sport, a food, and girl he crushed on for a few months, considered the things that make him Harry Potter? Why is it wrong to not make those important to his character in every damn fic? How does taking away being a Seeker, dating Cho, and eating Treacle Tart change who Harry Potter is? What do they really bring to the table?

Why do the things that actually make him Harry Potter, not have to actually appear in a fic for him to still be considered 'In-Character'?

Such as:

Being related to the people who thrice-defied Voldy.

Being prophesied to defeat Voldy.

Being attacked by Voldy because of it and ending up surviving the AK, getting a famous scar, and acquiring a shard of Voldy’s soul in the process.

Being taken away from his legal guardian and shoved onto abusive people that made sure he grew with the mentality that he wasn’t worth shit and that dying for the ‘greater good’ if an old man claims it’s necessary, is okay.

The things that dog his every step and control his future without him knowing it or being able to control it, are the things that shape him as a character.

But nooooooo. If he’s not Ron Weasley-level obsessed with Quidditch(which he never was tbh), salivating over Cho Chang, or mentioning Treacle Tart every chapter, he’s OOC.

Some of y'all just want canon!Harry and that's fine, but stop attacking people just cuz they want to focus on unique parts of Harry to tell the story they've come up with. And dear Christ on a cracker, if he is a totally different person by age 11, based on different experiences, him not playing Quidditch isn't going to make the world end nor make him any less Harry Potter and you're dumb if you say otherwise.

[quillinhand]

favourite snape hcs go 🎤

Hiiii

this is gonna take a while cuz I've been waiting for someone to ask this question for so long- so sorry for answering this post after a while lol

ok so.

he hates coffee, but marking and juggling all his work means it's often the only thing keeping him awake, and my man, he likes to take his coffee with enough cream and sugar to kill a small child. for energy, of course.

he likes to sleep. will commit murder if someone disturbs him.

actually likes marking. something about shitting on teenagers calm him down.

sometimes, he'll take out his old essays and go thru them with red ink. no teenager is as fun to shit on as yourself. except perhaps potter.

pan ace. am not accepting arguments

had sex for the first in the early days after graduation and initiation into the death eaters. hated it. very much.

loves physical touch and so, naturally, will make it impossible for anyone to touch him

has the weirdest possible relationship with Lucius malfoy but like, we don't talk about that.

(They are as close as you get to fucking/killing each other without actually fucking/killing each other. Knows each others darkest secrets but still would kill the other to keep themselves alive sort of close)

has a similar relationship with voldy shorts except, with our resident evil it's like, not consensual? Sort of? idk . My man's into tall dark and creepy ok? except in Lucius's case it's tall blonde and rich/ridiculous but. we don't talk about that.

Severus fucking Snape didnt become friends with Lily fucking Evans cuz she was pretty. nope. Twas cuz ma girl was powerful as heck(like him) and, more importantly, a bitch(like him). You are kidding yourself if ya think their friendship was anything other than that.

his relationship with his parents is a toxic one in that there IS some level of care there, but Tobias is too much of a depressed 30 something man to be a good father and Eileen was too much of a proud hag to be a good mother, and Severus was too much like them to be able to deal with their shit.

a huge part of why he used the mental arts so much was cuz he couldn't handle his emotions easily for the longest time, and would burst at the smallest thing. this was the trait that made him such a good target for bullying. the one trait he could never quite get rid of- just hide, under steel walls and scars that opened far too easily.

after lily died, he occluded to the point of magical exhaustion and ended up collapsing. wrecked his body to the point of him not being able to move for months. this was one of the first, and only things he learned to be kind to himself for, and relaxed with his occlumency shields as much as he could. and then voldy returned, and. well.

he is the Slytherin house's hero. not that he understands why. something about the whole, evil, dark, vampire aesthetic was very appealing ya see.

my man wears heels to look taller. not accepting arguments

his whole outfit was carefully planned. 20s Snape had FUN, I tell you. My man spent YEARS cultivating his whole vibe, from the expressions, to the poetry, to the ROBES- perfection, perfection. have you any idea how much he argued with tailors that, no, he actually didn't give a fuck if the robe he wanted was too tight for pockets. what the actual FUCK do you mean.

the buttons have so much history

his eye colour is actually just. gray, but like my man likes the whole vibe of ✨ obsidian ✨ more so. makes sure to stay around dimly lit areas for maximum effect.

he did actually go to school before hogwarts, but like he couldn't control his magic, so my man would bust the lights and flood the bathrooms and make the chairs hit the teachers he didn't like. The AMOUNT of confounding Eileen had to do to distract the town from their magic- worthy of a book series on its own.

I'm ending cuz this is already so longgg. sorry for answering lateee. ilyy 💜💜💜