#sort of occamy verse too

[black-occamy]

Remus' hair is so curly.

It's soft regardless of the weather or time of the month, no matter if he just came home in the rain or woke up after worst full moon ever. When you run your fingers through it, the strands make soft rings around your fingers. When you brush his hair, resting his head against your lap or your chest, feeling his arm wrap around you when he falls asleep, his hair is soft and smells like him - old books and dust, and somehow a bit sharper, like wilderness and wind.

When you comb it with your hands, the bronze locks bend under your fingers, unruly strands that tend to stick in every direction twirling and curling onto themselves in a semblance of order that reflects him calming down in your presence. You love the feel of it, surprisingly thick and strong between your thumb and index finger; a hidden resilience just like the one he has in himself. You tuck a stray lock behind his ear and he sighs in his sleep, content and relaxed.

Those are the best of times.

[halothenthehorns]

All in the Family

Chapter 135: Spinner's End

The whole room felt as large as Lily's entire house. She didn't even immediately see the other seven right away there was so much opulent space and grandeur to take in. The walls themselves seemed to ripple in an expansive opal dragon hide, the green snake banners hung all along the room wasn't exactly an identifying mark in her opinion, she would have one of each house in her room if she knew where to buy it, but she seemed to have landed right next to a cork board with scraps of papers and more importantly, photos that she would have to suss out as belonging to Draco Malfoy.

Lucius and Narcissa watching the five year old carefully but with pride as he laughed for the snow floating around him at some summer park in the heat, chasing ducks and occasionally stopping to lick an ice cream. One of him, Crabbe, and Goyle at sevenish playing some sort of game with apples, the little blonde's teeth oddly crooked, so she imagined it was some time at Halloween and done on purpose. He, Knott, and Blaise in their teens and in Quidditch robes throwing Quaffles around, he and Pansy in a booth at Madam Puddifoots.

Beneath all of these were dozens of rolls of parchment, some with the ink still wet of different music sheets with elaborate tunes and lyrics only half done in. She wasn't well versed enough to even guess at what instrument he could play, but judging by the few she spotted around the room that Frank was sheepishly repairing after crashing into them, the better question seemed what hadn't he been privileged in getting to learn at his leisure.

No one just looking at a glimpse of his obviously loved and carefree life would ever guess he was such an arse to her son, as well as Neville and likely many others. Her ears now rung with the foul word he so casually used that Severus now seemed to agree with.

There were a few daunting hints at such a thing, his picture of a very young Bellatrix Lestrange smiling as he prodded at the tattoo on her arm with childlike delight, he couldn't be more than two. The Sacred Twenty-Eight redone in his neat handwriting near the top corner with little scribbles and notes about each family.

Pettigrew was near the door trying to open it, to no success, the diamond handle in his palm glinting. Regulus Black was spinning a bust of a snake head with black stones in each eye that was likely a thousand galleons or some such, and cursed to boot, that Draco probably used as a paper weight. The lack of a house-elf hadn't much of an impact on their life it seemed, the wide open space felt empty to her in the organized place despite the many things available to look at. This boy had wanted for nothing, even a glance out the wide arched window showed glorious albino peacocks strutting along hedges and acres of pleasure beyond to explore, and yet he'd just as likely kill Hermione and her at the blink of an eye it seemed. He'd showed no remorse for his fathers actions trying to kill her son twice now.

Sirius Black had been offered the same and spurned it all away, Regulus had apparently started asking questions far too late for it to matter and died for it. Severus had been given nothing of the sort but turmoil, and he'd embraced the Death Eater lot, abandoning her and showing no clear signs of regretting it ever since.

She was sick of burying her head in the sand for his whys, it was time to start asking questions, but the problem was the one whom she still wanted to most was not available.

Alice was still crawling off the king sized bed, Potter was holding a signed Snitch with some look of awe on his face for whomever the signature was for, and there was a beautiful occamy skinned rug the length of the room Lupin was gazing sadly down at.

Sirius Black came stumbling out of a closet not too far behind her, enough she could peek inside and see the extravagant clothes inside that was more shaped to a normal bedroom, the teenager himself clutching his throat theatrically and miming gagging for all to see as he 'collapsed' to the ground still sputtering his disgust at getting a look at the underthings.

Regulus wasn't fighting off a laugh as he nudged his brother with his foot before promptly declaring him alive and walking off.

She watched the little one go with a heavy feeling of unease. He'd probably know Severus better than her at this rate, sharing a House and all. He didn't feel as unapproachable now after they'd spent some time together, but that didn't mean she wanted to walk over and just start talking about this.

She would though. She wasn't going to let awkwardness stop her now! She just decided to wait until a better opportunity as he instantly engaged with Pettigrew once more.

Alice had found the book somewhere in the gargantuan bed spread and was now finally plopped on the edge, reading Spinner's End with no idea why Lily would flinch so hard, but stopping all the same to look at her in concern when she noticed.

Frank stopped fidgeting with the instruments, ceasing the background noise and drawing all eyes to her.

She took a steady breath and squared her shoulders, may as well get out with it now. "That's Snape's address. I guess we get to find out what he's up to."

Potter's face was like stone, it was very obvious he hadn't believed a word of Dumbledore's explanation last year about none of the events being in some part Snape's fault, and she couldn't even blame him. She no more believed Severus had done all he could to help.

To her amazement though, he didn't start threatening to curse him, or much of anything. He just went over to the floor next to his best mate and sat beside him, prodding him in the ribs and teasing, "I'm not giving you a treat for playing dead."

"How else am I supposed to learn the good tricks from the bad ones?" He chuckled as he flopped onto his back.

Lupin went over with an indulgent smile for the pair, and the three stayed close to each other as the book started not with their school rival, but Sirius' would be murderer and her sister.

Sirius now looked murderous himself at the very mention of them, far more than ever before just the blood they shared could bring out. It was better than the nothingness he'd been trying so hard before, to pretend he cared nothing of it, but she also knew now it just wasn't in his nature to sit around when there was nothing to be done about them now.

He leapt to his feet with his usual energy and began sprinting around the youngest Malfoy's room, stopping every few feet to filch things into his pockets for no clear reason to her, or even his mates, though they watched in amusement for whatever he was doing.

He didn't stop when her prediction came true and the sisters were shown to be visiting Snape, though apparently it wasn't a mutual thing, Bellatrix was no happier to be around him than any of them right now, but it seemed Narcissa's idea and her elder sister was trying to stop her.

Sirius circled back to his friends and whispered something eagerly to them. Both looked a tad confused, but neither seemed to argue the point as he went back off towards where Peter and Regulus were.

He seemed to have minorly learned his lesson at least, performing a small miracle and not shouting his arrival but instead quivering in anticipation for the two to look at him before speaking. "Who wants to play a treasure hunt?"

"Why does your answer to everything involve some form of illicit activity?" Peter snickered. "This shit is not yours."

"And since when do we care about that?" He looked at him in concern. "Don't go soft on me now Wormy! Regulus can hide the stuff, Marauder swear I won't peek!" He handed all the items from his pocket to Regulus and mock whispered, "you can even stay here and keep an eye on me."

Pettigrew made a soft little noise that was maybe a laugh of annoyance, but Regulus took the stuff and wandered off at once when Peter Pettigrew of all people was apparently sharing a house space with Severus in the book, and all eight of them winced at that interaction! Sirius did have good timing occasionally it seemed as he got his alone moment with the friend he so needed to.

She had never considered herself a shy person, just quiet. She'd had the only friend she ever wanted before all this and so never actively sought out anyone else. So when Regulus came over near her and tried to hide a pair of cuffs with the Malfoy crest underneath some of the papers, she didn't hesitate to engage him now that she made her decision. "Can I talk to you?"

"I don't see why not," he agreed, now holding a gross looking shriveled up hand without concern and eyeing the dripping pearls of the chandelier above her. She waited until he'd levitated it up there and was now pacing the length of the room, eyeing the bed, rug, and shelves keenly as he passed a silver cross in his hands with emeralds the size of her fist back and forth in his hands while she followed his path and tried to convince herself she was being practical rather than pathetic asking someone else about this.

She'd have liked to talk to Frank and Alice, but they had zero experience in the matter, this seemed her only option.

"How well do you know Severus?" She asked uneasily, as the man himself gave a list of believable enough reasons to Lestrange about why he was apparently still in Voldemort's good graces, but then what were his answers to Dumbledore for still being a trusted member of the Order? Why couldn't they have heard about that conversation instead?

He didn't answer right away, visibly thinking hard about something with that tick they'd all noticed by now. When he did answer, there was no self-pity in his voice. "Look, I'm not a fool, I know Sirius sent me away on purpose, and I honestly don't mind, it's nicer than he ever was back in school. Kinder than outright telling me to piss off, right?" He didn't wait for an answer. "Snape and his friends do the same though, Mulciber and Avery you know, even one of my own friends in my dorm, Carrow, they'll set me up to go run errands for them."

They passed by Potter and Lupin having an uneasy whispered conversation watching their friends, whom were clearly at least talking about something. Neither Sirius or Pettigrew seemed angry, but they kept gesturing at Regulus and shaking their heads a lot. At least he really wasn't peeking though, he had his eyes closed the whole time, and she bit her lip to stop herself laughing at the sight.

"Like a test," obviously noticing the same and choosing to let them be too. "Weird shit each time to see my nerve I guess. Follow Macdonald around for an hour to see where she goes, sneak this into class under McGonagall's nose without getting caught." He paused with a look of maybe not guilt, but some regret for clearly never having it in him to ask before any why's.

"That instant Darkness powder-" she suddenly realized, far, far back in that ghastly chamber.

"Was supposed to be checking where Slughorn was and steal some special snake venom form him, ironically," he agreed with a twisted grin far more reminiscent of his brother than he'd ever admit. "Powder was in case he caught me."

He considered her for only another moment before continuing. "I don't know what exactly Snape gets up to, they haven't let me in on that, but I've got a feeling it's coming soon enough when I get back. If all this is supposed to happen when I'm sixteen, they won't wait much longer. Sorry if that's not much help to you," he finished genuinely. "I suppose they could be doing the same to him and I just don't know it."

"That's alright," she promised. "Thanks, it's more than I knew already." Was calling her that foul word a part of their tests? Or had the memory truly hinged on Potter's cruel actions in the crowd? They weren't following in his head to know just what the worst to him was.

Snape had answered for his crimes well enough to appease one of Voldemort's lieutenants, and Narcissa began baring her soul, pleading her case to help save her child. Lily froze over in shock when he agreed to such a thing.

Regulus stopped when she'd fallen out of step with him, now watching her with those liquid black eyes and still obviously ignoring the two idiots obviously having a conversation about him. He bent down and tucked the cross into the folds of the occamys wings and told her quietly, "maybe he'd do the same for another mother."

"I want to believe that," she admitted, rubbing her hand absently over her empty womb. "I just don't know how to ask, I'll probably sound insane."

"Probably," he agreed with a small smile, eyes roving around when Alice called the chapter was almost done, "but it never hurts to ask." He looked back at Sirius though and frowned, instantly regretting his poor choice of words. How many times had Sirius gotten in trouble for doing exactly that? He'd never wanted to endure the shouting matches that occurred when his brother refused to back down without an answer no matter what way mother and father told him to shut up, and he quickly left the room before he found out the answer, it never felt worth it in such loud anger. If he cared enough later about the initial question, he'd ask Kreacher, who was more than happy to answer in his level voice.

"Wait!" Sirius bellowed, eyes snapping open and instantly bolting to the bed to snatch the book away from her now, running around the room like his tail was on fire as he began looking about and haggling to all three of his friends to give him a hint.

His antics got a laugh out of all of them for one reason or another, filching shamelessly through Lupin's clothes like he really thought something would be hidden there, an awkward and poorly done handstand with his feet resting against the wall swearing it would activate some secret door, and finally trying to coarse Regulus himself to give the last up when he still didn't spot the grotesque hand hanging above.

Regulus just gave him an impish grin truly reminiscent of his brother and snatched the book back to finish the last sentence rather than answer.

[calamiticus-blog]

sorry this is so lame and scatter-brained and so over due. here’s a little about my awkward prickly cactus son scorpius. pls love him, even if he’s so difficult to get to know >.<

❝  i’ve paid my dues, time after time. i’ve done my sentence, but committed no crime. and bad mistakes  i’ve made a few. i’ve had my share of sand kicked in my face but i’ve come through. ❞

JANIS ANCENS? No, that’s actually SCORPIUS MALFOY. About to begin SIXTH YEAR, this SLYTHERIN student is sided with THE DOUBLE AGENTS. HE identifies as CIS MALE and is a PUREBLOOD who is known to be PROUD, INCONSIDERATE, and ALOOF but also AMBITIOUS, INTELLIGENT, and STEADFAST.

general.

name: scorpius hyperion malfoy

age: 16

house: slytherin

student functions: slytherin chaser, sixth year prefect, president of art club

boggart: himself, wearing a death eater mask, gleaming with pride and becoming what everyone truly believes him to be - just another “evil blood purist”

patronus: occamy 

orientation: demisexual / panromantic

headcanons.

when thinking of scorpius malfoy, a simple image comes to mind for most: spoiled. rotten. brat. it’s not hard to see where this belief comes from; as the only child of draco and astoria malfoy, he must have grown up with luxury and privilege. if he so desired something, surely he would get it. he must look down on everyone who walks by with even a drop of muggle blood running through their veins. without getting to know him, most have written him off this way. spoiled. proud. arrogant. blood purist. in some respects, they’re not off: scorpius is proud - proud to be the son of two incredible and inspiring parents, as he would say. he can be somewhat aloof and uninterested in others. and yes, even he would admit to being a tad inconsiderate, so lost in his own inner turmoil and teenage angst at times to realize that other people suffer just as dearly. but despite these ugly character flaws, scorpius is not the poster child for rotten rich boy as many might think. the real scorpius malfoy is a shy and reclusive, somewhat awkward, boy who struggles to make friends due to declining social skills. and these combined with his pride and often self-possessed persona create for a sour first impression. 

scorpius can be a tough one to read, being particularly skilled at keeping his emotions bottled behind a blank expression and cold unfeeling eyes at all times. he’s been conditioned into keeping others from seeing into him, from seeing his feelings and who he truly is. such a facade may not be a total surprise for a pureblood. he relishes in the comfort of not being known beyond surface level. sure, others judge him harshly, but it is better for them to judge him based off misconception than to be judged and disliked for who he really is. he’s awkward and uncomfortable socially, he’s creative and can be sickly sweet if you can get past those walls and under his skin. he just doesn’t really let people in. the only ones who really know him are his parents, and even then he hides a bit of himself from them. he’s afraid of being misunderstood, of no one liking him. the real him. whoever that is, anyway.

he doesn’t believe in the blood purity nonsense. old men’s philosophy - he wants to see it dead and buried deep in the past. who cares if you have muggle in you? scorpius doesn’t. he thinks it’s a mad thing to wage wars over. anyone with half a brain knows that blood purity cannot stand for long. eventually there will no longer be a drop of “pure” wizard blood in the world - not if they want wizards to stay extant. eventually all purity will be wiped from the world - so why hold onto this silly idea that those with a purely wizard ancestry are better? they’re inbreeds, how can that be better than a little muggle blood? 

while he has these views, scorpius isn’t at liberty to preach them. at least he feels that way. he’s too poised to express his opinions freely, and his social anxiety keeps him from joining in on any conversations regarding the subject. and the common misconceptions that come with the name “malfoy” make it hard to convince people that scorpius is any different than his grandfather or the malfoys before who sided with the blood supremacists. this could be why people assume he’s just another arrogant blood purist - to many “malfoy” is practically synonymous with “evil”, no matter how hard his parents have worked to educate themselves and their son of the opposite. it is this that has inspired scoripus, during such troubling times, to choose the side fighting against this death eater resurgence. scorpius dreams of nothing more than to rid the world of these backward views and to bring honor to the malfoy name. but he has to be careful about the methods he chooses to go about this. it’s why he’s chosen to be a double agent. thwarting death eaters and their blood purist views from the inside seem the best way for him to change this narrative and remind people that his family’s dark past has little bearing on his bright future.  

scorpius has a secret love for the arts. though lately it has become not so secret. he’s president of the art club after all. it’s a mundane thing to be the leader of. stereotypes would see him as the president of a magical club, be it dueling or the quidditch captain or whatever. it’s of little surprise he’s a prefect or a chaser. but the art thing, that’s a mystery. where it began, he isn’t really sure, but he’s fallen ardently in love with it. its in paintings and drawings and sketches that scorpius can be his true self. beneath the ambition, deceit, pride and aloof nature, a sweet hearted awkward boy in pastels and watercolor. if he’s not studying or practicing at the pitch, it’s almost a guarantee he is seated by an easel, technicolor tray of paints balanced on his lap, a smear of red over his cheek, concentrating hard on the canvas and masterpiece unraveling before him. he says he just “paints what he sees”, but really he paints what he feels. dark and unnerving, frantic and desperate to break through, his paintings bear a sort of anxiety in their strokes. the keenest observer may be able to spot the honesty in them, but to others they’re just pretty things that are showcased at the club’s meetings. 

he’s never had a romantic relationship or any sort of tumultuous liaison. he’s too proper for the latter and too awkward for the former. he lacks in social skills, and anyone he knows are often just thrown at him through family connections. he sees people around school, making connections and building everlasting relationships. meanwhile he’s sitting on the fringes of society participating in superficial friendships and not reaping the fruits of a teenager’s active social life. mostly because he doesn’t have one. he acts like he may not need others, but he knows it’s false. it’s only human nature to crave the company of others. he just hasn’t mastered the ability to connect with others, and to ask for their company in earnest. 

wanted connections.

obligatory friendship - perhaps another pureblood, one who either believes in the blood purity agenda or who is forced into it. they’re not exactly friends - acquaintances is a more appropriate term - but they spend time together. if they’re much like scorpius and uninterested in the facade, perhaps they’ve begun to see that in each other and slowly heading toward a more genuine friendship with the shared understanding of being forced into these roles. ( can be multiple people )

could this be the start of something? - someone who has somehow made their way into scorpius’s orbit. they’re an outlying star, just a faint beep on the radar, but with every passing day they edge closer and closer. in all his life he’s never really had a true friend or anything more, but this person is someone edging their way into his world, and could become the center of it. perhaps his projecting his innermost desires on someone, but they seem to have a way of getting under his skin, sharing an emotional connection and hobbies and likes in the way friends or loved ones naturally do. scorpius is cautious of them, but slowly allowing them in. he wants to get to know them, he just doesn’t realize this yet. ( does not have to be romantic )

frenemies? - keep your friends close, keep your enemies closer. a common phrase. perhaps he’d heard it from a family member. nevertheless scorpius is aware of it and relates it to this particular person. they are cordial to one another, as friendly as one can be when you don’t like the other. he may be a slytherin, but this person is the real snake as far as he’s concerned. he will keep a careful distance, but enough that he can fight back if it comes to it. he doesn’t share their views or interests, sees the worst of people in them, but there is an obligation to be near them at all times. maybe it’s because he sees some of his worst qualities in them, like a twisted fun house mirror. the idea makes his skin crawl. they make his skin crawl. but he can’t stay far from them. ( can be slytherin, pureblood, or w/e ) 

understudy - intelligent and ambitious, scorpius is well versed in many subjects as well as president of a club. so in an effort to seem less snobby, he has decided to share his gifts to the best of his abilities. he takes on students, helps them with their subjects, even tutors a bit in the art department for club members struggling or those looking for an artistic outlet. he’s not the most empathetic tutor, but he’s knowledgable and that’s what counts. these pupils could slowly develop into friendships, though most of the study sessions are straight to the point and don’t offer deep insight into scorp. ( can be multiple people )

[ READ MORE ]

( feel free to message me with plots or connections, even if they aren’t listed on here ! i would be open to everything and anything ! )

[black-occamy]

I was thinking about ingredients of the Wolfsbane Potion and their worth, since according to Wikia those are:

And, incidentally, at least three of those are considered "expensive" or "rare"... Now, I tend to assume Mr Belby was a nice guy, who took the risk of researching a potion for marginalised social group out of the goodness of his heart, but let's consider an alternative scenario...

Where Mr Belby is secretly funded by some high Ministry official - potentially a rich pureblood - who has a relative that was turned werewolf. Family wants to keep it hush-hush without having to dispose of the relative in more... Definitive way, so Mr Belby has access to all sort of high-end ingredients and components. The potion he comes up with works splendidly, but when Mr Belby starts thinking about replacing some of the ingredients with more affordable substitutes, he gets reminded that he signed an NDA and a transfer of the recipe rights to his wealthy sponsor and hence they and their rich family are now the only ones who can promote the recipe and cash the profits from ingredients sales.

Big Pharma, but wizarding world style, "and let's make sure it is widely known that tampering with the ingredients will have grave consequences to the drinker."

[black-occamy]

I had a bit of a writer's block last week, and a friend of mine recommended to write something random.

So here's a random animagus being cute...

Can be read as either gender or none.

-------------------

If one were to walk past the common bathroom in the dungeons, and then venture through the corridor next to the storage cellars, one would arrive at a rusty-looking door that led to the overgrown castle gardens. The area was not commonly visited by students - perhaps because it was the easiest to access from the Slytherin dormitory entrance. Or maybe it was the fact that crumbling ground gave way to steep cliffs overlooking the Black Lake. Either way, you knew it was usually secluded enough to be a comfortable and quiet reading space, where you could hope to be unbothered for at least a couple of hours.

That being said, today was obviously not a usual day.

Once you reached your favourite reading spot on a slightly tilted stone bench under the forgotten pear tree, you noticed something that was not supposed to be there. As if waiting for you specifically, a big black dog was lying on the ground in front of the bench, head on its paws. You stopped. It had definitely noticed you, its pointy ears twitching at the sound of your steps, but beside that it did nothing.

Well, at least nothing yet.

Hesitantly, you slipped your right hand into the robe pocket, feeling for your wand. There were a couple of possible explanations for the dog's presence here. It could belong to another student, or it could be a familiar of someone visiting the castle. Finally - though unlikely - it could belong to some non-magical hikers from whom it escaped. Either way, you were pretty certain that a well-targeted spell would incapacitate it, even if it was magical. You hoped it wouldn't come to that, though. Scary or not, it was still just a dog. And even though you were never fully comfortable around animals, a small part of you really wanted to change that.

As if bored by waiting for your move, the dog raised its head and gazed in your direction. You looked dead into its eyes, while the sanity in the back of your mind screamed that a dog could interpret that as a challenge and an invitation to fight. Its eyes were pale grey, and it blinked almost immediately, tilting its head to the side and lolling its tongue out in an expression that kind of looked like a smile. Its wagging tail thumped against the ground.

“You're in my spot,” you said out loud, before catching yourself realising that you were arguing with an animal. The dog rose to its feet, tail still wagging. It was bigger than you initially thought. Its head would easily reach your elbow.

Feeling a sudden chill down your spine, you considered your options again. The dog didn't seem aggressive, at least. Its presence in your almost exclusively private spot was more annoying than anything, but then again..

“Go home,” you demanded, trying to sound stern but not angry. “Go to your owner or whatever. Go, shoo!”

The dog tilted its head left then right, its ears put up as if it was confused.

“I told you, that is my spot,” you repeated, slightly irritated by the lack of communication. “Off with you!”

You waved your right - wandless - hand at it, pulling the book to your chest with your left. The dog yawned and stretched lazily, shaking itself as if it just got out of a bath. Then it took a few steps to the side and sat down in the grass, leaving a good ten feet between itself and the bench.

You stared at it for a few more seconds, irked by its happy panting and tongue lolling out again. It seemed pleased with itself.

“Oh, for... Whatever then.”

You walked by it, taking a seat on the bench. It was mid-afternoon, and its smooth stone surface was already pleasantly warmed by the sun. Yet, instead of being a comfort, it agitated you even more. You opened the book, determined to focus on your studies.

Couple minutes passed in silence before you thought you heard something. Immediately, your head snapped in the direction of the dog.

It was still in the same spot, looking at you. This time it lowered its head and made a small whine. It almost felt like it was asking a question.

You ignored it, turning back to the book in your hands. You skipped one Charms class because of that Gryffindor menace, Sirius Black, the other day. If you didn't catch up with the material, Flitwick was bound to give you a detention. Plus, the dog didn't belong to you. You could hardly be expected to...

It whined again, a bit more intently.

“Stars above!” You rolled your eyes and shot it an angry glance. The dog wagged its tail. “What do you want from me?”

Obviously encouraged by your attention, it stood up. Once again, the sheer size of the animal made you uncomfortable, when it approached the bench, its tail wagging excitedly. Your hand unconsciously reached into the pocket again.

“I'm busy,” you said, completely certain there was no point in explaining yourself to this creature. “I don't have snacks or anything, leave me alone.”

It stopped next to the bench, tail whooshing left to right, its ears pulled a little lower and whined again. You stared, determined not to encourage further interaction. It was starting to get on your nerves.

The dog licked its gums, whined once more and then, all of a sudden, rolled on its back on the ground, exposing its belly. You felt your mouth open in surprise when it waved its front paws at you.

“Look there, you seem like a good...” Somewhat flustered for no apparent reason you shot a quick glance at it. “Boy. Very good boy. You're kinda barking at the wrong target here. I don't know if you want me to give you scratches or if you will bite my hand off if I try.”

The dog rolled back to his belly, front paws wide and tail wagging furiously. He made a short, happy bark.

“Morgan's hair, you actually barked!” You laughed, unable to resist the smile spreading across your face. The dog barked in response. “Okay, okay, quiet down. I'll scratch you.”

You put the book down, and slowly reached towards the animal with your hand, still a bit wary.

“I'm trusting you, Good Boy,” you said, trying not to think about the shortest route from here to the hospital wing.

The dog sniffed on your fingers and gave your hand a lick. Carefully, you patted his snout and the top of his head, scratching between the ears. His fur was softer than you expected.

“There, scratched,” you said, pulling back. “Are we done?”

The dog whined at you, and again rolled to his back, tilting his head to the side expectantly. You closed your eyes for a moment and sighed.

“I swear, if that's a ploy to bite my hand off, I'm going to be really cross with you, Good Boy,” you warned, getting off the bench and kneeling on the ground next to the dog. You gave his belly a gentle rub. “Happy now?”

He jumped back to his feet, his head now above yours when you looked up a bit startled. Warm, wet tongue licked the side of your face and you couldn't help but giggle in response.

“Stop it! You're sweet, but that's too much for a first date!”

The dog bounced off, gave you one happy bark and ran away towards the castle. You watched it disappearing in the distance. You wiped your cheek, feeling a warmth spreading across your chest. That wasn't so bad, actually.

You read about Charms for the next hour or so, resting your back against the tree trunk, until you got hungry and realised it was probably time for supper. Stretching lazily, you got up and began walking around the castle walls. To your surprise, there was a familiar silhouette waiting for you on the crumbling battlements.

“Hey there,” Sirius said, grinning at you from where he was perched on the wall.

“Hey yourself,” you replied, shielding your eyes from the afternoon sun with the book. “What are you doing up there?”

“Admiring the views.”

You rolled your eyes, watching as he slid down the wall next to you and dusted off his trousers.

“Have you seen that black dog?” You asked and Sirius glanced at you with a surprised smile.

“What now?”

“I was reading in my usual spot and that dog was there, practically demanding to be cuddled,” you explained, sliding your hand around his elbow as the two of you began to walk along the walls together. “Caught me by surprise.”

“Oh?” Sirius smirked. “What did you do? I recall you saying you don't feel comfortable around big animals.”

“Surprisingly enough, I did cuddle it... Him,” you corrected yourself and smiled. “It was nicer than I expected it would be.”

You caught Sirius glancing at you with the corner of your eye. He seemed pleased with himself for some reason, and you pulled him to a stop.

“What are you so smug about, Black?”

“Me? I'm just proud of you, beloved!” He protested, but his eyes had that mischievous glean to it that you have learned to recognise.

“Did you have something to do with that dog?” You asked, suspicion rising in your voice. “Better tell me already, or stars help me...”

He laughed, leaning forward to look you in the eyes.

“And if I did?” He teased, catching your hand and kissing your fingers. “Don't tell me that interaction wasn't fun for you.”

“I hate your manipulative ass, Black,” you scoffed, unable to hold back a smile. “Where did you get that dog from anyway?”

“It will have to remain my little secret,” he replied, wrapping his arm around your shoulders. You didn't protest.

“Shame. I was starting to like him.”

[black-occamy]

Remadora Microfics - Day 1: Haunted

Written for @remadoramicrofics October prompts, 916 words I almost failed in writing it on time...

Written as part of my Occamy-verse AU, so: everybody lives, everybody lives HAPPILY, there will be insane amount of fluff and cuteness, there will be mentions of polyamory.

The carousel began to rotate, children’s shouts overlapping with the merry music. Remus stood on the side with a bunch of other parents, watching the oversize teacups begin to swirl. He searched for Teddy’s blue hair with his eyes, noticing the boy was happily shouting something to the other kids in his cup. It wasn’t like he would be leaving them alone, he reminded himself.

“C’mon, Rem,” Dora tugged on his arm, much like a giddy kid herself. “They’re not gonna disappear if you stop watching for a bloody second.”

If anyone had bothered to ask him before, Remus would have a number of arguments as to why having a date night at the Muggle amusement park would not be his personal choice. Unlucky for him, neither Dora, nor Sirius bothered, instead arranging to take him and all the kids from Grimmauld Place to spend an evening out as a surprise. He didn’t even have his regular supportive voice of Gemma, who was out on the Auror business this week. Faced with a bunch of pre-purchased tickets, and the pleading eyes of Teddy and Lenore, he could hardly refuse.

Keep reading under the cut or on AO3 ❤

Remus spotted his daughter in another carousel vessel. She was completely focused on drawing more tattoos on Sirius, who was seemingly dozing off, one of his arms casually thrown over the edge of his seat. On the previous ride, it was Scorpius who had won the opportunity to ride with “Uncle Pads” and diligently drew even more rune-like symbols on Sirius’ palms than there was already. The boy apparently didn’t notice that as soon as the ride ended, all the drawings mysteriously disappeared.

“Rem, for Merlin’s sake,” Dora finally managed to pull him away, leading him through the crowd of people towards some other carnival attraction. “Sirius offered to look after those little monsters, stop worrying.”

“You know how I don’t like you two ganging up on me,” he complained half-heartedly, following her. His wife cast him a smug look over her shoulder and grinned.

“Cheer up, love. You’ve been spending too much time working lately, you deserve a break.”

Remus sighed. She wasn’t wrong there. Between preparing for classes and finishing his second book, he hardly had enough time to spend with the family and often he would just excuse himself and fall asleep before Dora was even done putting the kids to their beds.

“I know, I’m sorry for…”

“We’re here!” She interrupted him gleefully. “What do you think?”

He raised his eyebrows quizzically. They stood in front of a dilapidated construction that tried to pretend that it was a mansion of some sorts. Tattered curtains swayed on non-existent wind from broken windows. Front door, with remnants of torn-off wooden boards, was wide open, leading off to a dimly lit corridor. An older lady in black laced gown was sitting on a small chair next to it.

“Welcome to the Haunted House,” she sighed as they approached, shooting them a bored look from above the crossword puzzle. “Two tickets for you, lovelies?”

“Yes, please, ma’am!” Dora beamed, scooping the tickets from the crooked fingers. Remus fought the urge to roll his eyes.

The inside was no less cardboard-looking as the front, with flickering electric light pretending to be candle flame and artificial cobwebs covering almost every surface in amounts and patterns that somehow made him think of a really crochet-oriented spider. Dora snickered to herself, passing from room to room, while several jump-scare mannequins kept popping from left or right. There was an old bed linen with holes for the eyes, a skeleton with a few missing ribs, something that was barely resembling an old-school Dracula and a scrawny-looking furry creature that made Remus snort in amusement. He watched Dora as she wrapped her arm around the vampire-like mannequin and turned her face pale white to match it.

“Behold, overvorked mortal,” she called in an accent that didn’t resemble anything in particular, but somehow did indeed sound like a vampire should. “Vor I am Baroness ov dis mansion and I ‘ave cometh vor your blood!”

“Oh, woe on me,” Remus gasped, hiding a smile. “I’m all out of blood at the moment. Will cotton candy outside be enough, your baronessness?”

“Vot is dat cotton-candy ye speaketh ov, mortal?” Dora abandoned the mannequin and ran in his direction, wrapping her arms around his shoulders. She flashed him a smile, showing off she transformed her teeth into pointy fangs. For some reason it looked really good on her.

“Someone will see, Dora,” Remus protested weakly, not sure if he was thinking about her morphing ability or the sudden display of affection. She scoffed and rose to her tiptoes to press a kiss to his lips. He didn’t oppose that.

“You’re no fun sometimes, Remus,” she murmured, rubbing her nose against his. “Who cares if someone sees us? We’re bloody grownups, with kids, for Merlin’s sake!”

“Well, we’re also in public…”

“We’re in a public haunted mansion, big deal,” she gave him another kiss. “I have an idea. Let’s hide in that coffin, make out, and then scare the shit of some non-magicals, yeah?”

“Hmmm, yes to the first and to the second, but hell no to the third.”

“No fun, this one,” Dora sighed, pulling his arm. “C’mon then. We have about twenty minutes before Sirius gets nauseated from all the cup spinning and loses one of the kids. I hope it’s Teddy.”

“Mother of the year, my wife, everyone.”

“Shut up and kiss me, werewolf boy.”