#spellb🔮und

[carewyncromwell]

5,6,20 and 21?

5. Does MC sleep with a stuffed toy?

No. Carewyn honestly grew out of sleeping with stuffed animals rather early -- she stopped at the age of three, not long after Jacob first went off to school. She was much more prone to tucking her Paddington bear into its own tiny "bed" on the windowsill under a spare scarf rather than hugging it herself as she fell off to sleep.

6. Sandwiches or soup?

Carewyn loves soup in the wintertime. Her mum Lane was especially prone to making up a pot of Scotch Broth on cold nights, and Carewyn ends up learning more vegetarian-friendly soup recipes after becoming legal partners with Orion.

20. Who's your MC's non-NPC bestie? Any other MC?

Well, for one, Jules Farrier @cursebreakerfarrier is Carewyn's honorary Slytherin Sister! She could see no one better suited to be Bill's other half. Carewyn also befriends fellow Slytherin Night Rhea @night-rhea through Quidditch friendlies and Ravenclaw Cato Reese @catohphm through baking in the kitchens and both Sarahi Silvers @dat-silvers-girl and Wendy Gordon @drinkyoursoupbitch post-Hogwarts. Carewyn's brother Jacob also becomes close with Sarahi's brother Jacob and Ellie Hopper's family @thatravenpuffwitch, especially her grandfather, Lugh Hopper.

21. Does MC prefer Muggle or Wizard Music?

Ugh, Carewyn would HATE being asked this -- because yes, although she has more favorite Muggle bands than wizard ones, that's largely because the Wizarding World's music scene is so much smaller and less diverse, compared to the Muggle World's! She adores the Weird Sisters and deeply appreciates the talent of artists like Celestina Warbeck, Lorcan D'Eath, and Spellb🔮und, and yet she also loves the Eurythmics, Elton John, Queen, KISS, AC/DC, David Bowie, Carly Simon, and so many others. She hates the thought of having to choose, because if the Wizarding World's music scene could just open themselves up more to different influences the way the Muggle music world has, she thinks they could be just as great.

HPHM Ask!

[carewyncromwell]

faceclaims left to right -- Kento Nakajima as Shika; Hunter Schaefer as Sparrow; Sebastian Stan as Ed “Zorro” Rosier; Jeremy Jordan as Colt; and Shawn Mendes as Orson

Referencing Chess Thornton @cursebreakerfarrier​ at one point because come on, we all know the tabloids would take some interest in her and Ed’s relationship at some point ❤

x~x~x~x

[excerpt from Witch Weekly, issue 10, Oct. 1995]

They Put a Spell on Us!:  A special Q/A session with the members of the new hit band Spellb🔮und 

Q: Well, first of all, welcome, gentlemen, it is an absolute pleasure to have you with us. Who do we have to thank for us scoring this interview?

Sparrow: “(grinning) Zorro.”

Colt: “Zorro, yeah.”

Shika: “Zorro put in a word with Mr. Green.”

[Orson nods.]

Zorro: “(grinning smugly) Guilty as charged.”

Q: Mr. Green being Iago Green, your manager, of course. He’s the one who brought you all together, as the story goes. But let’s get to know the men behind the band -- behind the stage names and makeup...

Zorro: “(amusedly) Are you sure you know what you’re asking? I wouldn’t subject any of these poor men to what I look like, before sitting in the makeup chair.”

[Sparrow can’t stifle the giggling erupting out of him.]

Q: Your fans want to get to know the real you! So first off, what are your real names, how old are you, and where are you from? Shika, why don’t we start with you, and then we can make our way down?

[Shika pauses before answering very methodically, almost primly.]

Shika: “My name is Shiraki Katsuro and I am 28 years old. I was born in Shibuya, in Japan, but now I live in Ely, in the district of Cambridgeshire.”

[Sparrow, once he’s sure Shika’s done, answers eagerly.]

Sparrow: “Uh, hi! My name’s Tony Bianco, I’m 21, and I was born in Queens! New York, I mean. The United States. Though my parents and I live in London, now!”

[Zorro waits very patiently for Sparrow to finish, looking almost indulgent when the younger boy glances at him.]

Zorro: “My name is Ed Rosier, I’m 36, born and raised in Cardiff. Now I call London home sweet home.”

[Zorro nods to Colt, who jumps right in to respond.]

Colt: “Name’s Jared Katz -- 25 -- and I’m from Moortown, Leeds!”

[Colt looks at Orson, who is comparatively very soft-spoken in his response.]

Orson: “Mischa Poliakoff. 37. I was born in Leningrad, raised in Leipzig, Germany...and now my family and I live in Manchester.”

Q: Wow! I don’t think I realized how very diverse your backgrounds are...Mr. Green truly has assembled a world showcase of talent! (laughs) So what got you all into music in the first place? Did your families encourage you?

Zorro: “(gives a bark-like laugh) Hardly! I daresay they would’ve been much more pleased if I’d gone to work for the Ministry of Magic. I am glad they tolerated me singing and writing songs on the piano constantly, though -- my dear old mum used to say that many a woman has an appreciation for a man who can perform for her on command, and what do you know? Turns out she was right. (smirks)”

Colt: “(laughs) I first got into music for that too! Sort of. I had a crush who was into musical theater, so I joined that, and after scoring the lead in the spring musical, I was invited to join the choir, and then a garage band or two after that. It’s around then I learned how to play the drums. Wish I could say my folks were supportive, but I guess I did disrupt their sleep a few times with my practicing! (sniggers)”

Shika: “Music is very important in my family. I learned how to play the shamisen from my baa-baa -- my grandmother -- and then, after that, I learned the other strings, from my mother and brothers. I didn’t start singing until I was older -- after my voice changed. From then, I did talent competitions and auditioned for acts outside of Japan, so as to gain more experience.”

Sparrow: “(shyly) My parents encouraged me -- they’ve always loved music. They actually work for our record company! They used to travel a lot with me when I was little, and they’d always want me to sing for their friends, whenever we went to any parties. That was how I met Mr. Green, through Mamma and Papa.”

Orson: “...My family...also very much enjoys music. My father was a guitarist for Lorcan D’Eath for many years, when he was alive. I always wished to be just like him.”

Q: That’s fascinating...now Sparrow -- you’ve gone on the record saying that your favorite musical artist is Celestina Warbeck. Would the rest of you tell us about some of your favorites? 

Colt: “The Beatles, of course!”

Zorro: “Their stuff is classic.”

[Shika nods in agreement.]

Shika: “I do not think any of you are familiar with the songs of Amuro Namie...but Amuro-san is an idol, back home. She performs pop music, but with some electronic dance and rhythm and blues, as well.”

Zorro: “(interested) Sounds like something you might like, Orson, if it’s got some R&B flair. (indicates his bandmate) Orson’s favorite Muggle artist is Stevie Wonder.”

Shika: “(to Orson) Lorcan D’Earth would be the other favorite of yours, I believe, yes?”

[Orson nods.]

Orson: “...I like the Beatles too, though.”

Sparrow: “(grinning) Oh, don’t forget Michael Jackson! He’s Zorro’s favorite, hands-down...”

Zorro: “(coolly) Perhaps if more of you listened to his discography, he would be yours too.”

Colt: “(dryly) We almost don’t have to, considering how much you play his stuff on the keys, before rehearsal.”

Q: An awful lot of Muggle artists...I seem to recall you once saying off-the-record, Colt, that most Muggle musicians are just better than magical ones -- care to comment?

Colt: “(faintly annoyed) That was taken out of context -- !”

[Before Colt can finish, Zorro’s swept in to answer for him.]

Zorro: “(coolly) I have to wonder how you heard Colt say that, my dear, if it was ‘off-the-record’...but I suppose reporters have a certain magic about them that way. Rita Skeeter, for instance. A shame she took a break from writing, after the Triwizard Tournament -- her headlines always did make for good gossip kindling.”

[Zorro gives an amiable laugh.]

Zorro: “Now then, what was the question? Is Muggle music better than magical music? I don’t think any of us would say that, exactly -- we’re simply musicians with a deep love of our craft. We appreciate musical talent, wherever it comes from.”

[Sparrow, Shika, and Orson nod. After Shika passes him a significant look, Colt does too, though a bit more reluctantly.] 

Q: (laughs) Well, you certainly have it to spare! You in particular, Zorro, both writing and singing your band’s songs. Care to delve into your process? Your inspiration?

[Zorro looks rather pleased by the praise despite himself.]

Zorro: “Thank you. I’m glad to know my work is appreciated. In regards to process, though, I’m afraid there isn’t much to tell. I simply write what I feel, or have felt, or have known. ‘Write what you know,’ as the saying goes. I’m just glad that the opportunity popped up where we could include something I wrote on one of our albums, in the first place -- if it weren’t for the public responding to 'Starlight’ as much as it has, I doubt I would’ve become a permanent addition to the songwriting team. So yeah, to all our fans, thanks for that! It means a lot.”

Q: There have been a lot of rumors about the special someone you’ve written about, in your songs. Some say it’s your old intended, Alecto Carrow -- still others says it’s an old childhood friend of yours, Francesca Thornton...can’t you give us a hint -- just the tiniest hint about who this woman is, who’s stolen your heart? 

[Zorro’s eyes grow that little bit smaller as he smirks.]

Zorro: “Now, now, my dear! Half of the success of a good love song is the ability for the audience to hear the words and imagine themselves as an active party -- you can hardly expect me to sabotage my work, by divulging that.”

Colt: “Besides, how do you know it’s a woman, anyhow?”

[The rest of the band immediately looks at Colt. Colt tries to play it off, but sounds a bit defensive.]

Colt: “Ahh, nu, it might not be! Not every love song written by a bloke is about a girl, you know -- ”

[Shika places a hand on Colt’s shoulder and adds in a far more composed sort of voice,]

Shika: “From what I’ve seen, Zorro’s songs are written as gender-neutral. Our fans who are not female will be just as able to see themselves in the words, if they so desire.”

Zorro: “(grins) Indeed.”

Q: May I take that to mean Spellb🔮und supports gay relationships?

Colt: “Damn straight we do! Whatever your sexuality or identity, what you believe, where you’re from, what your background is, we support you.”

[For once, no members of the band make any move to censor him. On the contrary, Sparrow is actually beaming. Orson shifts a bit in the background, but doesn’t speak.]

Q: Aha...well, then -- back to my original question, though. Since you won’t divulge the nature of your love life, Zorro, perhaps the rest of you might? I believe all of you are still single, but -- 

Zorro: “Not Orson. Sorry, ladies -- he’s taken.”

[The others grin at Orson -- he actually gives a small smile and holds up his hand to show his wedding band.]

Q: Oh yes, that’s right -- most of you, then. Any of you currently on the look-out, on the dating scene? How about you, Sparrow? Is there someone special in your life? 

[Sparrow laughs a bit self-consciously.]

Sparrow: “Ah well, uh, n-not really...it’s a lot of work, just playing with the band! N-not that it isn’t fun, of course -- I love working with Zorro and the others! It’s just that I never really went to parties much when I was younger, unless they were music functions, you know, so...”

[He’s looking more uncomfortable by the moment, so Zorro swoops in to his rescue.]

Zorro: “Colt is much more the sort to go to clubs and parties than Sparrow is.”

Colt: “(laughs) You know it! The club scene is where it’s at.”

Shika: “The Thestral Club just outside of Diagon Alley is a respectable establishment. Colt and I have been there, on a few occasions.”

Colt: “Their DJ’s are all excellent. Pretty cute, too!”

Q: Ooh, well, that’s an endorsement I’m sure they’ll appreciate! But I’m sorry, I just have to circle back to you, Sparrow. You’re arguably the most popular member of the band, so one could say you’re also the Wizarding World’s most eligible bachelor! What would you say you’re looking for, in a lover?

[Sparrow flushes darkly.]

Sparrow: “W-well, that’s -- heh -- not exactly...um...”

[He’s laughing even more as he becomes more self-conscious. Once again, Zorro swoops in to his rescue.]

Zorro: “Well, certainly I’d say Sparrow, like all of us, would want someone who loves us for who we are, rather than our fame. Right, birdie?”

[Sparrow is encouraged by Zorro’s support.]

Sparrow: “Y-yeah! I reckon we all do...I’d say all of us would deserve to find that, in somebody.”

[He glances at the other members of the band self-consciously. Shika nods.]

Shika: “Whether romantically or not. I would say finding kindred spirits can make the human experience significantly more fulfilling.”

Zorro: “(grinning) Well said!”

Q: Well, unfortunately, that’s all the time we have! Before we go, though, is there anything you’d like to say to your fans?

Sparrow: “(brightly) Thank you! Thank you, thank you, thank you!”

Colt: “(grinning) What Sparrow said. Thanks a lot, you all! We couldn’t do this without you!”

Shika: “It’s true. We will be eternally grateful for all of the support you have given us, and we hope that you will continue to send us your love.”

Orson: “Yeah -- thanks.”

Zorro: “(smiling fully) Please remember the impact a single life can have, in shaping another -- and take heart knowing that each of you have undoubtedly helped shape ours for the better.”

[carewyncromwell]

Hmm... how about random hcs for all of Spellb🔮und?

Oooh, for ALL the boys? Let’s see…how about we do this from youngest to oldest?

Tony “Sparrow” Bianco is a closeted trans woman. She’s still currently using “he/him/his” pronouns in public, partially because her family is both well-respected and traditional enough that she fears rejection. The first person she’ll feel really comfortable coming out to will be her honorary “big brother” Ed “Zorro” Rosier, who she thinks the absolute world of.

Jared “Colt” Katz may respect fellow band member “Zorro,” but he’s also kind of resentful sometimes of how much attention he gets for his songwriting and how much he often ends up taking charge of things. Jared really is looking forward to making his own solo debut so that he can actually perform some of the songs he’s written, since Iago Green has largely passed them over for not fitting in with Spellb🔮und’s “aesthetic.” (Translation: they’re more of the indie-rock, grunge, acoustic guitar variant than anything pop or bubblegum.)

As a boy, Shiraki “Shika” Katsuro had a romanticized image of England in large part because of how much he enjoyed the Beatles’ music and films set in England like Mary Poppins and 101 Dalmatians. Although, sure, he was a little disappointed things weren’t like the fantasized image in his head, he still has an odd soft spot for some distinctly “British” things like London’s distinctive red double decker busses.

Ed “Zorro” Rosier has got a HUGE sweet tooth. Although he is fond of pastries like eclairs and macarons, his One True Love among sweets is cheesecake. He honestly doesn’t care how cheap it is: eating a slice of cheesecake always brightens his day. If it is good quality, though, he becomes a human sunbeam, he’s so happy, and just about nothing can ruin his mood.

Mischa “Orson” Poliakoff grew up in Berlin, East Germany, but like the rest of his family, he was raised Russian Orthodox. This makes it so he is actually kind of uncomfortable with how pro-LGBT the rest of his band mates are. He is very aware that and respectful about how his religious beliefs aren’t shared by the rest of the group, though, and he respects the others enough as performers that he doesn’t bring it up.

Send a 📂 and one of my MC’s for a headcanon!

[carewyncromwell]

[Marauder/Golden Era] Edmund “Ed” Rosier

fancasting Sebastian Stan as Ed

“I'm not a perfect person -- There's many things I wish I didn't do, But I continue learning... I never meant to do those things to you... And so I have to say before I go That I just want you to know -- I've found a reason for me To change who I used to be: A reason to start over new... And the reason is you.”

~“The Reason (cover)” by Chase Holfelder 

x~x~x~x

As one of the key vocalists and the main songwriter for the trendy magical “boy band” Spellb🔮und, Ed Rosier (often just called by his middle and stage name “Zorro” by agents and fans) puts out a very laidback, sexy persona, but he’s nothing if not ambitious. Even though he’s more than willing to play any role he has to and he’ll put in 150% of himself into his work if it’ll help him get ahead, he’s often the member of the band who stands most toe-to-toe with their managers, fighting for their fair share of the profits and for the respect due them. However chill he acts, Ed’s actually a calculating sort who has a hand in just about every detail of the band’s upcoming events or concerts and puts a lot of focus on what will please the public and the band’s fans in particular. Even his people-pleasing, amiable nature and good looks have made him a media darling, which Ed takes full advantage of in order to better promote Spellb🔮und. He truly is a fox in human skin -- mischievous, clever, and very hard to pin down. But if one looks closer, those who know Ed better might be surprised by the shadow underneath all the smirks and taunts, one hinted to in the lyrics he writes -- songs about a broken friendship, familial abuse and disownment, and a doomed young love that ended in tragedy. 

Tagging @cursebreakerfarrier because Ed is nothing without his Kit 💚

[carewyncromwell]

“Care to explain what was that all about?”

“What? I thought you wanted your two favorite boys to get along better.”

“Eddie, you called Sirius ‘Mutt.’ In front of the entire Order.”

“I thought 'Pup' would be too much like a pet name in the romantic sense. Plus I kind of like how it sounds with your nickname. Kit and Mutt -- kind of matches well, wouldn't you say?”

x~x~x~x

featuring Kate Siegel as Chess Thornton @cursebreakerfarrier​ and Sebastian Stan as Ed Rosier ❤

x~x~x~x

When Ed Rosier started nicknaming Sirius Black “Mutt,” just about everybody in the Order found it pretty damn funny. Sirius took it rather well all things considered, since he could tell it was a term of endearment and he was way too used to being the person teasing others to get hot-under-the-collar being teased himself...but that doesn’t mean he didn’t shoot Ed faintly exasperated smiles now and again. Snape took a lot of vindictive pleasure out of it, which irked Sirius to no end, but most of the others actually thought it was quite cute. After all, Ed had called Chess “Kit” for a while (apparently as a derivative of the longer nickname “Cheshire Cat”), and he’d also taken to calling his bandmate Sparrow “Birdie” in interviews, so most people caught on to the fact that Ed used personalized nicknames to show affection for people. And Ed did once make it very clear to Snape at one Order meeting that only he was allowed to call Sirius “Mutt” --

“His name is either ‘Black’ or ‘Sirius,’ Severus,” he’d said in a very light and passive-aggressive kind of voice. “This is a professional organization we’re running here, isn’t it?” 

Sirius’s close friend Remus Lupin in particular found the nickname rather endearing. He’d been one of those who’d laughed the most upon first hearing it, to the point that Sirius had had to mutter “shut it, Moony, it’s not that funny” under his breath. From that point on, though, he would merely silently smile watching Sirius and Ed interact, with Ed lightly teasing Sirius and Sirius shooting snappy one-liners back in return. 

“It’s hard to look at Ed Rosier now and see him as the same boy he was at school,” Remus said to Chess one day in October. “I think even Sirius is having trouble doing it...and I’ve never known him to believe that people can change.”

Chess smiled as she watched her best friend teasingly pat Sirius on the top of his head, only to dart out of Sirius’s reach with a loud, amiable laugh. The two men’s visual similarity was even more noticeable when they were in such close proximity and their handsome faces were both full of such amiability and mischief. 

“That’s because you all haven’t known him as long as I have,” said Chess. “I always knew he could change...because I saw it happen before.”

October came and went, with Ed being kept very busy with his work with Spellb🔮und. Their manager Iago Green clearly wanted to take advantage of the band’s momentum to record some proper song covers so that they could play on the WWN during the holiday season, so Ed didn’t anticipate no one working with the band, whether one of its member or part of the crew, would have much chance to breathe until December. Fortunately Ed was able to coax Iago to let the band members select certain numbers for their “holiday album,” and even for them to perform their choices solo at some of their concerts, as a special “treat” for those who paid to see them perform live (and, though Ed didn’t say so, so that each member would get some much-needed individual spotlight). Despite Ed not being able to pop over to Grimmauld Place quite as much around all of his rehearsals and concert planning, though, he did still receive a strange card one day under his door in mid-October, not long after a certain interview had come out in the most recent edition of Witch Weekly. 

[carewyncromwell]

[Ficlet] Sparrow and Zorro

Hi guys! This is just a quickly written little one-shot featuring my new kiddo Ed Rosier and one of his bandmates, Tony, so as to kind of flesh out the dynamics between Ed and the rest of Spellb🔮und. 

For more information on how Spellb🔮und was brought together, Ed gave a handy explanation here, but basically this band was originally formed with marketing in mind over artistry, and it’s in large part thanks to Ed that the power dynamic between the manager and the band members has shifted. Tony (or “Sparrow” to his fans and bandmates) is the youngest member of the band, while Ed (or “Zorro,” meaning “fox”) is the second oldest. The other members of the band are “Shika” (meaning “deer” or “stag”), “Orson” (meaning “bear”), and “Colt” (which, yeah, “horse”). And yeah, here are some tags for some potentially interested parties -- @aceyanaheim @cursebreakerfarrier @thatravenpuffwitch @kathrynalicemc​ @danceworshipper @nightmaresart @oneirataxia-girl​

Hope you like it! 💚

x~x~x~x

Ed had arrived early for rehearsal. It was a habit he’d always had, since before he broke into the industry, to always be the first person there for any event. In the past, he actually ended up dawdling outside people’s houses sometimes so that he wouldn’t arrive for parties before they’d even started. But being late for an event or planned date was something Ed just couldn’t abide the thought of -- even if he had to end up standing around a while or working on other things waiting for everyone else, he was always early. 

This time around, he’d arrived at the rehearsal space even before the band showed up -- so Ed decided to help out by taking everything out and putting it in its proper place, so that when they arrived, their instruments and equipment would already be set up. First he set up the drum kit; then tuned the guitars; and finally levitated the keyboard and its accompanying synthesizer across the room. 

Once he’d gotten everything set up, Ed looked around at the configuration, just to make sure he hadn’t missed anything. Then, at last, he dropped down onto the stool in front of the keyboard with a sigh. 

What should he do now? Check in with craft services? They wouldn’t be clocking in for another thirty minutes -- no sense in stressing them out. Help out with the set? Ed hadn’t checked in with the set designer yet, so it’d be hard for him to know what her vision was, for this upcoming concert. Start practicing their new dance choreography? Seemed like that’d be easier to do with the band maintaining a beat. 

At last, he decided warming up his voice might be a decent place to start. Rolling around on the stool, he faced the keyboard. As he looked down at the keys, an idea came to his mind, and his expression lit up with a small wry smile. He flexed his fingers, bending each one back one at a time, and then rested them over the keys and started to hash out a tune he liked to play on his piano at home. Once he’d gotten into the groove, he cleared his throat loudly and started to hum along. 

“...da-da da-da da-da...’cause the lie becomes the truth -- yeaaaah...”

“That sounds awesome, Zorro.”

Ed didn’t stop playing at the sound of his bandmate, Tony “Sparrow” Bianco, coming up behind him. 

The youngest and most popular member of Spellb🔮und was a cherubic-looking Italian-American boy of nineteen with shoulder-length light blond hair and grayish-blue eyes. He’d been chosen for his distinctive, amiable Tenor voice, which immediately made him stand out in a crowd -- though Ed suspected his sincere, ingenue-esque attitude also made it very easy to get him to sign a contract in the first place. 

"Are you working on that for Mr. Green?” he asked curiously. 

Ed shook his head. “Afraid I can’t take credit for this little number. What are you doing here so early, little birdie?” 

Tony rubbed the back of his neck a bit uncomfortably. “...I could ask you the same thing.”

“Someone’s got to make sure all of the t’s get crossed and the i’s get dotted -- it may as well be me,” said Ed. 

He stopped playing at last and turned to look at Tony with a rather cool smile. 

“Now I’ll ask again -- what’s going on? It’s not like you to come to rehearsal early.”

Tony was trying to smile, but he kept looking away uncomfortably. 

“Well, uh...I just thought maybe we could...hang out, a bit. ...If that’s okay.”

When Ed didn’t respond, Tony immediately rushed to explain. 

“I-it’s totally cool if you don’t, it’s just -- I never see you guys outside of rehearsal, and -- well, we are a band...and you’re always calling us your ‘buddies’ in the press, so I thought...well...”

“You thought buddies would want to spend time together,” surmised Ed. 

Tony immediately looked like he’d regretted saying anything: as if he was afraid Ed was going to shut him down. That fear of rejection, though, was way too familiar to Ed -- it was a feeling he knew way too well to let anyone else feel. So he raised his wand, levitating the stool from the drum kit over so that it plopped down next to the one he was sitting on. 

“Come sit over here.” 

His face lighting up with relief, Tony immediately did so. He looked from Ed to down at the keyboard.

“...I didn’t know you could play piano,” he said self-consciously. 

Ed shrugged. “I don’t get much of an opportunity to show that off, these days. Reckon you only would’ve known if you’d seen any of my side gigs...”

“Did you play the keyboard for other groups?” asked Tony.

“Keyboard, guitar, drums, synthesizer -- whatever they needed.”

“That’s amazing!”

“It was what was necessary.”

Despite saying this, Ed’s face had broken out into a grin -- he appreciated the boost to his ego. Tony seemed to be relaxing somewhat, smiling more fully himself. 

“Do...do any of the others play anything?” he asked.

Ed considered this. “Well, let’s see...Colt knows the drums, I think. Shika’s studied a lot of string instruments -- bass, viola, and shamisen are the ones I know of. And Orson was in the industry even before I joined, so I reckon he knows at least one too...”

Tony blinked, looking almost abashed. “Oh...”

Ed raised his eyebrows. “What’s that ‘oh’ for?”

Tony immediately looked very self-conscious. 

“I’m sorry, it’s just...I thought you...well, that you were close with the others. They always seem more comfortable talking to you than they do to me,” he admitted lowly as he looked down at his hands in his lap, “so I thought that maybe you all were friends, before...”

Ed considered Tony for a moment. His face had lost any hint of a smile, making it much more stony, as it often looked when he was serious. When he finally responded, his voice was very quiet and level. 

“...We were all brought together by the same bloke, Tony. You knew Mr. Green back in the States -- and I’m sure you know by now that he brought us together for a lot more reasons than just because he likes pop music.”

Tony nodded without looking up. 

“He’s a businessman, first and foremost...and although yes, he saw talent in all of us individually, his focus was always about that bottom line: about how much money Spellb🔮und could make him. As much as he likes to try to make us feel special...in the end, Iago Green's looking at the Galleons. And...well, most of us joined this group well aware of this.”

Tony looked up at Ed, his gray-blue eyes both upset and confused. Ed gave the boy a slightly wry smile. 

“You’re new to this business, but the rest of us aren’t. And when you’ve had to train yourself to only eat one meal a day, just to stretch your money out far enough to afford your next month’s rent...you go to every audition you can -- accept any job that opens up, whether it’s one you want or not.”

Ed tried very hard not to let his voice get cynical or bitter. He looked Tony straight in the eye, trying to be as gentle and frank as possible. 

“I joined this business right out of Hogwarts -- just two years younger than you -- and Spellb🔮und has been the first thing I’ve done that I’ve gotten any public recognition for, in the fifteen years I’ve been making music. You’ve been very lucky, Tony.”

Tony suddenly looked like a wave of guilt had submerged him. His shoulders fell as he looked down at the ground. 

“...So...I guess the others must think I’m this dumb kid who’s gotten everything on a silver platter, huh?”

Ed’s expression softened. “No -- just young. And a touch naïve.” 

He brought a hand up to Tony’s shoulder and gave it a reassuring squeeze. Tony looked up, and Ed smiled at him.

“Look -- we all might put on a good show for the press about being closer than we actually are...but that doesn’t mean I don’t have all of your backs, in any case. I can hardly expect you all to have mine otherwise.”

His steel blue eyes glinted with a slightly harder glint. 

“...When I was your age...I was the sort of person who would give and give to the people I loved...even if it meant I gave everything and got nothing back. I made a promise to myself years ago that I would never do that again...and quite frankly, I don’t want you or the others to be in a situation like that either. You all are talented enough to deserve better than that.”

Tony’s face lost its gloom, brightening up slightly as if the sun was peeking out from behind the clouds. 

“...Thanks, Zorro.”

He quickly rubbed at his eye with his fist before straightening up again, his lips touched with a smile. 

“You know...you really are pretty cool. And not the way you act for the cameras, like really cool. Like, nice.”

Ed grinned. It made Tony smile a bit bigger too.

“Maybe you should be our manager!” he said brightly. “I mean, you already look after us and take care of getting things ready like one -- I think you’d be good at it!”

Ed actually started to laugh. 

“Easy, birdie -- my ego might explode, being egged on by that much praise.”

He brought a hand up to ruffle Tony’s blond hair, and the younger boy laughed too. Once Ed had withdrawn his hand, he returned his focus to the keys in front of him.

“Now then, shall we warm up? Gimme a song, let’s see if I can play it.”

Tony bit his lip to try to contain his laughing, his eyes flitting down to the keyboard and then back up at Ed shyly. 

“...Can you play ‘You Charmed the Heart Right Out of Me?’” he asked. 

Ed cocked an eyebrow, his mouth spreading into a mischievous grin. “You really like yourself some Singing Sorceress, don’t you? I seem to recall you sang ‘You Stole My Cauldron’ for your audition, too.”

Tony flushed a dark shade of red. “Well, sh-she’s my favorite! M-my parents brought one of her records back from London once, and...I’ve always loved her songs, since I was really little...” 

“She is a rare talent,” Ed cut him off smoothly -- Tony looked rather relieved to see he didn’t look condescending or dismissive. “A rather kind lady too, fortunately -- so many artists aren’t as nice as they seem in public...” 

“Wait --” said Tony, his eyes suddenly going super wide, “ -- you mean you’ve met Celestina Warbeck?”

“‘Met’ is a strong word -- I just helped out with some back-up vocals at one of her events once.”

“What was she like? Did you get her autograph? Have you stayed in touch with her? Is it true what they say, that she kisses everyone in her crew on the cheek French style when she meets them?”

Ed laughed that bit harder, his chuckles huskier and more bark-like as they grew louder. “Whoa, whoa, easy! It really wasn’t that glamorous...tell you what -- I’ll tell you about it, after we’re done warming up. Now come on: from the top. A one, two, three, four...”

The two bandmates proceeded to sing “You Charmed the Heart Right Out of Me” and “A Cauldron Full of Hot Strong Love” -- Ed felt a pang of nostalgia for the Frog Choir, playing those songs again after such a long time. Then Tony persuaded Ed to play a song he really liked, which ended up being Michael Jackson’s “Beat It.” It was while Ed was singing this that Colt came in and egged Ed on enough to make him play the Beatles’ “Hey Jude,” which Orson and Shika ended up jumping in on too when they arrived. 

By the time the rest of the crew had arrived, Spellb🔮und was in full sing-along mode...and any observers would’ve sworn that all five of them really were as close as they always pretended to be in front of the cameras. 

[carewyncromwell]

“Until the night falls, we're aligned -- It doesn't mean that we're on the same side... Watch your back! Watch your back! Watch your back! Watch your back! Hit 'em hard and hit 'em fast -- They're too heavy to react!”

~“Night Falls” from Descendants 3

x~x~x~x

In the months following Fudge’s failed attempt to expel Harry Potter, the Ministry of Magic took a more hardline stance against anyone who was even slightly critical of its policies. Ed felt very fortunate he’d never been very much into politics and that he didn’t work at the Ministry himself, but he had to feel for poor Chess @cursebreakerfarrier, who was both an Auror and true Gryffindor who’d always had very strong moral convictions that she didn’t like compromising. He couldn’t help but worry what might happen if the Ministry ever ended up side-eying her past association with Sirius -- after all, even if Fudge didn’t believe Voldemort was back, he was still very interested in catching Sirius, and Ed recalled Dumbledore saying in passing that he suspected Sirius might end up being a fall-guy for Death Eater activity at some point, so that Fudge could pass it off as it being the act of “one lone wolf” rather than a bigger issue. 

His music had often been an outlet for Ed’s emotions...but lately, his job performing and songwriting for Spellb🔮und had become an escape more than anything from the constant fear he felt both for Chess and for himself, working with Dumbledore’s motley gang of rebel fighters. 

Unfortunately it was in early September that his “escape” ended up being compromised. After leaving the studio late that afternoon, Ed without hesitation headed straight to the Order’s headquarters, Number 12 Grimmauld Place. 

When he arrived, the songwriter strode through the entrance hall as quickly and yet quietly as he could, not wanting to wake Walburga Black’s portrait. Once he’d gotten to the staircase, he called up in a carrying hiss. 

“Hey! Is anyone up there!? It’s Ed!” 

“Edmund Rosier has appeared in my Mistress’s house again,” croaked a low voice from somewhere near the floor. 

Ed looked down in slight surprise, to see Kreacher the house elf peeking around one of the stair banister, his face even more gnarled than normal as he looked him over beadily. 

“The boy who Master Regulus always talked about,” he muttered under his breath, “now cavorting with Mudbloods and half-breeds...oh, the young master would be so disappointed...”

Ed felt like he’d been stabbed right in the heart. His eyes seemed to flinch, visibly wounded and emotional despite the stoicism of his face.

“Kreacher, I loved your master very much,” he said as softly as he could. “Everything I’ve ever done in my life, I’ve done with him in mind.”

Kreacher’s face seemed to contort with suspicion. 

“Edmund Rosier is trying to sympathize with Kreacher,” he muttered to himself, clearly not understanding that Ed could still hear him rather than these things merely being his thoughts, “but oh, my Mistress, he is foolish -- Kreacher has always done everything he could to serve the House of Black. Edmund Rosier instead throws his lot in with Master Regulus’s enemies -- the blood traitors and Mudbloods that my Mistress so despises...”

Although Ed managed to keep his face stoic, his steel blue eyes were almost overflooded with pain. “That’s not...” 

“Kreacher!” 

Sirius had appeared at the stair landing just over them. 

“Don’t you have somewhere else to be?” he barked at the elf harshly. “Go crawl under the stove and stop bothering people.”

Unable to disobey a direct order, however callous, Kreacher slunk off, though he shot Sirius a very surly, loathing look as he left. 

Ed’s lips came together tightly and his eyes narrowed as he looked up at Sirius. 

“You shouldn’t treat him like that -- ” 

“You’re welcome,” Sirius shot back very coolly as he descended the stairs. “Now what’s going on? I’m afraid if you’re here to play for anybody, your only audience is me -- Arthur’s on watch and Molly had to skip off to the Burrow, to clean up before Dolores Umbridge stops by...”

“Umbridge?” said Ed, taken aback. “The witch who sponsored that rash of anti-werewolf laws? Why?”

Sirius gave a derisive snort. “Apparently the new ‘High Inquisitor’ wishes to meet all of those families whose children have been selected as Prefect, so as to assess Dumbledore’s selection process. Though I doubt that’s what it’s really about...more likely it’s half intimidation, trying to make sure all those Prefects stay in line, and half intelligence-gathering on Harry -- ”

“ -- since his two best friends were just made Gryffindor Prefects,” finished Ed grimly. 

He looked from Sirius to around at the empty rafters overhead. Well, great...now what was he going to do?

Sensing Ed’s restlessness, Sirius cocked an eyebrow at him. 

“What’s wrong? You look peakier than Remus on a full moon.”

“That’s not really something to make light of, is it?” Ed said disapprovingly. 

Sirius rolled his eyes. “Remus has been a werewolf long enough that he’s past caring when people talk about how pale he gets. And since when do you get offended on Remus’s behalf anyway, Rosier? I seem to recall you had no problem insulting his clothing choices, back in our school days...”

“I’ve already told you -- I’m trying to be better than I was at school,” Ed said, his voice soft and level despite its firmness. “Something you honestly might want to consider doing yourself. Then maybe whenever you end up in the same space as Severus, you wouldn’t immediately feel the need to pick fights -- ”

“Forgive me if my first instinct upon being insulted isn’t pacifying whoever’s attacking me,” Sirius shot back coolly. “Now I’ll ask again -- what are you doing here? Clearly something’s up.”

Ed regarded Sirius silently for a moment. His expression was very closed-off and hard to read, but it was mainly because he was thinking quickly. 

Time was of the essence -- he couldn’t afford to dawdle around waiting for anyone else from the Order to arrive. And yet going out into Knockturn Alley, potentially around Death Eaters and completely on his own...as much Ed had always enjoyed wizard dueling as a sport, he knew his dueling skills and reflexes were nowhere near good enough to put him on a level playing field with dark Wizards. His current choice was either letting his lead go cold and protect his own skin...or...

Ed swallowed. 

“...I think...the Death Eaters have a mole inside the Department of Magical Law Enforcement.”

Sirius stiffened sharply. “What?”

Ed took a deep breath and started at the beginning. 

“I was the first one at our concert venue this morning -- I was there before everyone else arrived. I figured I could start the day off by dealing with one of the lights that had gotten smashed during our last rehearsal. It was left backstage, so I set about figuring out how to fix it, since a simple Reparo wouldn’t recast the charms that had been inlaid into the glass. While I was back there, I heard some of the techs arrive. I’d planned to call out from behind the curtain -- wish them a good morning, ask if they wanted some of the coffee I brewed...but their voices sounded so anxious that I couldn’t help but just listen. I thought it was about the show, so if I heard the whole story, I’d know how best to deal with the problem.”

His steel blue eyes darkened. 

“But...it wasn’t about the show. It was about recruiters.” 

Sirius’s eyes narrowed. “What kind of recruiters?”

“The same kind as last time, of course,” said Ed dully. “The kind who stopped by to talk to all those ‘good little boys and girls’ who followed in the footsteps of their Pureblood ancestors. You probably would’ve met one yourself, if you hadn’t run away from home and started living with a family of known ‘blood traitors’ like the Potters. Some of our techs are like me -- descended from old wizarding families, but didn’t fight in the First War, for whatever reason. And it seems they’ve already been paid visits...been pressured to join ‘the cause,’ or suffer consequences.”

Sirius crossed his arms, considering Ed carefully. “And you reckon you'll soon be, too.”

“Soon enough, anyway. I reckon the media attention around me has protected me somewhat -- the Death Eaters know it won’t be so easy to pull me aside for a chat without anyone noticing. And we all know they do want to stay under the radar, for now.”

“But what does this have to do with the Ministry?” asked Sirius. 

“One of the techs said that the Death Eater who’d approached him said that they had ‘eyes and wands everywhere,’” said Ed, “operatives that would be able to protect and enforce their ideals, from every angle...help promote, or demote, anyone they wish.”

“That could very well be a bluff,” said Sirius, unconvinced. 

“It could be,” granted Ed, “but that tech in particular is named Elmer Yaxley -- his mother is a daughter of Charles Cromwell, a blood purist and ex-associate of Lucius Malfoy’s, who was sent to Azkaban five years ago for leading a magical Cabal that sought to break into Hogwarts’ Cursed Vaults. She just barely avoided a lifetime in Azkaban herself. Elmer also said explicitly that his uncle works in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement...from what I’ve been able to gather, he means Corban Yaxley, and I know I’ve heard Kit bring that name up before, in her reports for the Order...”

“Yeah, she said that he’s been on her and Kingsley’s arses lately about finding me,” said Sirius. "Do you think Yaxley is the mole, then?”

“Possibly -- I don’t think there’s enough proof to say one way or the other yet. But the only way we might find that out is through Elmer Yaxley -- he said that he managed to coax the recruiter to give him some time to think, but the recruiter insisted he come to Knockturn Alley tonight, to give his answer. If we can track him down and tail him, then maybe we might be able to find out who the mole is and how much they know...”

“...So you came here, to find someone who’d run down that lead for you,” Sirius surmised. His lips seemed to twitch with something of a bitter smile. “But alas, the only person here is little old me...and Dumbledore’s ordered I stay locked up in here ‘for my safety.’ So what do you intend to do?”

Ed’s eyes narrowed slightly. “Whatever I have to, to protect Chess and her future. If Yaxley is the mole, then that means that he’s surveilling her and Kingsley, and if he’s able to link either of them to you, then their lives will be effectively over.”

“Then there’s the whole risk to the Order and its mission of protecting the entire world from Voldemort,” said Sirius dryly, “but sure, think about paychecks and careers...” 

Ed ignored this. Instead he quickly charged up the stairs, right past Sirius. 

“I’m going to need some robes.”

Sirius wrinkled his nose. “What for?”

“Well, if you and I are going into Knockturn Alley, I can’t jolly well be dressed like this,” Ed indicated the Muggle-worthy baseball cap and corduroy jacket he was wearing. 

Sirius blinked in surprise, and Ed rushed to explain.

“Look -- for all the things you’ve gotten wrong about me, Black, one thing you are right about is that I’m not the type to fight. There’s a reason I’m not an Auror like Chess -- playing around in the Dueling Club is one thing, but even I’m not naive enough to think that’ll be enough, to keep me from getting myself killed if I’m facing off against a Death Eater. And if this lead of mine is right, I might end up confronting one or more of those. You’re an experienced duelist, and you’ve fought these sorts before...and well...” 

He looked away uncomfortably. 

“...I know...you care about Kit, just as much as I do. I want her to have a future waiting for her on the other side of this War, and she won’t have one, if she loses her job. Being an Auror is her dream...I couldn’t bear it if that dream was ever stolen from her.”

Sirius's gray eyes had gained a determined, almost excited glint at the thought of getting out and fighting some Death Eaters. Ed’s expression of sentiment about Chess, though, seemed to have brought him back down to earth slightly, and he regarded Ed a bit more critically. 

“I suppose I’ll have to go in dog form,” he said. 

“Unless things go south,” said Ed. “Then I’ll need you to have my back.”

“You realize that for me to agree to that, I’d have to trust you to have my back, Rosier,” said Sirius, his eyes narrowing upon his face. “How do I know I can trust you?”

Ed’s face became much more stoic, as it always did when it was serious. 

“...You don’t,” he said at last. “Just as you don’t know anything. You don’t know what tomorrow will bring...or what's in someone's heart...or even whether or not we'll still be alive tomorrow. You don’t know any of it, and you can’t know it, because nobody can ever truly know.”

Ed took a striding step forward so that he was looking Sirius in the eye, straight on. 

“But since when has that stopped you, Black?” he asked softly. “You, of all people. You can’t know Dumbledore's intentions. You can't know Moody's, or Tonks's, or the Weasleys', or anybody's. You didn't know Lupin's or Severus’s back in the day anymore than you knew Pettigrew's.”

Sirius’s eyes seemed to flash. “You...”

“Yet even with you not knowing anything for sure,” Ed cut him off before his temper could rise, “you had faith in them. You still have faith in them -- even though Lupin’s been going off on missions he can’t tell you much about, or Molly’s been overbearing about how you interact with Harry, or Dumbledore’s been forcing you to stay trapped in here.”

Ed shrugged and took a step back.

“So that's what I'm trying to do. I don't know I can trust you, Black. But I have faith in Kit...and she has faith in you. ...Maybe one day I'll be able to do the same,” he added with an attempt at a smile that didn’t quite touch his steel blue eyes. 

Sirius stared at Ed for a long moment, taking in his answer slowly. Then, at last, he sighed through his nose. 

“...What do you need?”

Ed brought a hand up to brush his brown bangs out of his eyes. “I’m pretty good at disguising magics, after how long I dyed my hair...but I’m going to have to dress like a traditional wizard, if I don’t want to raise as much suspicion. Something of your father’s will do, if you have anything...even your mother’s wouldn’t be completely out of the question, though magically disguising my voice might be harder...”

“We already cleaned out the whole of my parents’ room, so that I could move into it,” said Sirius. “That bureau was one of the first things we emptied out, after Buckbeak ripped up some of its contents to make a nest on the bedroom rug.”

His gray eyes drifted up to the landing that led to the topmost floor. 

“...There may be something we can use, though,” he said slowly. 

Sirius headed upstairs, to the topmost floor. When he returned, he was carrying a set of high-necked robes and pants made out of fine black satin and a pair of handsome black leather gloves. 

The sight of them made Ed’s whole frame stiffen. 

“Those...” he whispered. 

“Regulus’s,” said Sirius. 

He watched Ed’s expression carefully. The other man seemed unable to tear his eyes away from the familiar high collar of the robes, even as he tentatively reached out to take the robes from Sirius. His face was stoic, but very pale, but his steel blue eyes betrayed him -- they were noticeably glassy and full of longing and pain. 

“Were these...did he leave them behind?” he asked at last. “In his room?”

“Looks like it,” said Sirius. “They’re in pretty good condition, compared to the other moth-eaten stuff around here...but I suppose Kreacher always did have a soft spot for ‘young master Regulus’...”

Ed closed his eyes and bowed his head, silently clutching the clothes in his hands. He inhaled and exhaled slowly, before he recollected himself and looked up. 

“...These will do.”

Sirius looked away, his face looking uncomfortable and almost oddly guilty. “Good. ...Meet me in the entrance hall, when you’re ready.” 

He turned on his heel and headed back down the rest of the stairs and out of sight. Ed lingered on the second floor landing for a moment, his eyes leaving Sirius’s back in favor of Regulus’s robes in his arms. 

It was so long that they didn’t smell like him anymore -- instead they smelled  faintly musty, obviously a sign of being locked up in a wardrobe for almost fifteen years...but for a moment, Ed could almost imagine the familiar waft of jasmine cologne that would touch his nose every time he embraced Regulus...and the memory made his heart ache with a longing he’d never completely forgotten the feeling of. 

Oh, Reg...Merlin, I know you probably wouldn’t be proud of all of the changes I’ve been through, but...

He clutched the robes a bit tighter, trying to control the trembling of his hands. 

...Please...please, if you still love me at all, in whatever after-life you’re in...help me not be afraid.

Within the hour, Ed left Grimmauld Place through the front door, his long hair charmed a greasy, Snape-worthy black, his beard embellished with a goatee, and dressed in Regulus’s robes and gloves, as well as a pair of dark sunglasses. Sirius was at his side in dog form on a lead -- Ed determined it would be least conspicuous for a dog to be in his company in Knockturn Alley if they pretended Sirius was his service animal. Once the two had gotten far enough away from Grimmauld Place that none of its Muggle neighbors might overhear, Ed secured a hand on Sirius’s furry back and Disapparated with a loud CRACK.

The two arrived outside the Leaky Cauldron. No one recognized Ed as he passed through, Sirius leading him, which reassured Ed quite a bit. After traveling down the streets of Diagon Alley, they carefully migrated into Knockturn Alley. 

Ed hated Knockturn Alley. He had always actively avoided it, not liking the sour smells and unpleasant wares peddled in the stalls and set up in the shop windows. But truthfully, who could really feel comfortable in a place that sold poisonous candles and charms made out of troll skin? His dislike of the place was all the more justified when within the first half-hour of arriving, someone tried to pickpocket him, only to be warded off by Sirius growling and snapping his jaws at him. 

Thank Merlin that wasn’t Mundungus Fletcher, thought Ed. I can just imagine how everyone else in the Order would react to me smuggling Sirius out...especially after the Prophet published the rumor that he’s been spotted in London...

Right now, though, none of that mattered. This was Ed’s only chance to get some intelligence about the Death Eaters’ movements, and if that information could help protect Chess, there was no way in Hell he was going to let that slip by. 

It took about an hour of wandering around and “window shopping” before Ed caught sight of pasty, blue-eyed Elmer Yaxley arriving in Knockturn Alley. With Sirius still guiding him, Ed followed along covertly after him, off past Borgin and Burkes. Elmer led them past the undertakers’ shop and the White Wyvern pub, all the way to the far end that held the apothecary. It was here that Elmer stood alone for a while, his knees knocking together anxiously, until he was approached by a wizard with long white-blond hair dressed in elegant black silk robes and carrying a cane with a silver serpent head affixed to it. 

Ed wasn’t surprised to see Lucius Malfoy, exactly -- but he was a bit surprised that it was him who was overseeing this meeting. Although yes, he had been suspected of being a Death Eater back in the day, his only ties with the Ministry was his philanthropic work. He had no real access to Ministry secrets, aside from whatever little he might able to wheedle out of Fudge. 

“Well, then?” said Lucius. “Have you considered the offer, young man?”

“U-uh,” Elmer seemed to have trouble conjuring up a proper response. “Yes! I mean, yeah, I’ve...considered it. What she said, the...fr-friend of yours, that is. And um, well, I definitely want to help you, of course, Mr. Malfoy -- i-it’s just that I...I-I really didn’t get very good marks in Charms, at Hogwarts...and I’m not very good at dueling! S-so uh, I don’t know if I’d really be the best choice to -- ”

“Dueling skills are not the only thing you can provide us, Elmer,” Lucius cut him off very smoothly. “As your uncle Blaise should have already demonstrated.”

Elmer looked startled. “...U-Uncle Blaise?”

Lucius’s face became almost indulgent. “Ah, then he didn’t tell you...how very like Blaise, to try to ‘protect’ his Clan’s younger members from his business dealings. Well, no matter...Boudicca has already told you about the scope of our influence...”

Ed stiffened. Boudicca...Malfoy couldn’t mean his niece, could he? Evan’s daughter?

The thought, and how likely it sounded, made him feel nauseous. 

Elmer looked incredibly intimidated. “Y-yes, sir...sh-she said that you’ve got eyes and wands everywhere...”

“Indeed we do,” said Lucius with a cold smile. “Your uncle has given us valuable intelligence regarding the Order of the Phoenix and their activity within the Ministry -- ”

Ed inhaled sharply. He looked down at Sirius -- the black dog’s eyes were likewise very wide and his ears had gone back. 

“ -- but what we truly need now are...foot soldiers, so to speak. People who can carry out special tasks. Not strictly combative, perhaps -- but essential, all the same.”

Elmer swallowed, his almond-shaped blue eyes darting from side to side anxiously like a mouse desperate to escape a cat that had caught its tail under its paw. 

“Th-that -- that is...that sounds great, Mr. Malfoy!” he said shakily, trying to smile but having a lot of trouble. “I’m glad everything’s...g-going smoothly...”

“So far,” said Lucius dryly. “So? Can we expect to count you among us, young man?”

“Ah...” Elmer was visibly sweating now. “W-well, um...i-it’d depend on...what exactly you wanted me to do! M-my asthma, you see -- it kind of keeps me from doing lots of physical activity! A-and I got these awful bone spurs too -- ”

Ed cringed. He didn’t know this kid all that well, and even he knew these were blatantly weak lies -- all of the people who worked in Spellb🔮und’s crew had to do plenty of physical activity, from carrying heavy equipment and climbing up into the rafters. 

“ -- m-my mum really wouldn’t want me to do anything that might disagree with me -- ”

“I’m sure you can find a way to manage,” Lucius said coolly. “After all...all of this is for a cause greater than ourselves, isn’t it, Elmer? Greater than us as individuals. It’s for the Wizarding World overall -- for our families’ prosperity and safety. You do want those things, don’t you?”

Elmer trembled. “...Y-yes, sir -- ”

“And you do realize that your family’s position is already rather precarious in this current world, do you not?” murmured Lucius. “That your mother’s position is rather precarious?”

Elmer seemed to shrink noticeably. 

“It might be less so in a different one,” said Lucius in a voice that attempted kindness, but was far too cold and cruel to sound convincing, “but we can’t expect to get something for nothing -- can we, young man?”

“N-no, sir --”

“Good,” said Lucius, his gray eyes boring into Elmer with just about no effort at all, like a knife sliding through melted butter. “Then you will help us, to ensure that your family’s position and safety are assured. Do I make myself clear?”

Elmer looked like he’d completely crumpled. Trembling from head to toe and looking like he was about to cry, he bowed his head and shakily nodded. 

“...Yes, sir,” he said with a mere shadow of a voice. 

Ed felt his heart break for the poor kid. Obviously Elmer Yaxley wasn’t very smart, but that almost made the whole situation worse. He didn’t have a chance standing up to a strong personality like Lucius Malfoy’s, and yet he’d so desperately tried anyway, naively thinking that he might be able to reason with him. 

Ed had been so focused watching the exchange that he didn’t hear or sense the robed figure that had come up behind him -- but Sirius did, and in an instant, the shaggy black dog had lunged at him with a loud, vicious snarl, clamping his fanged jaws down on his wand arm. 

The wizard fell back, bellowing in pain -- Ed whirled around, his eyes wide as Sirius wrestled the man’s arm away from him --

On the other side of the alley, Lucius Malfoy and Elmer Yaxley shot out straight, turning sharply toward the sound of the disruption. 

“It seems one of us was followed,” hissed Lucius. 

Elmer looked terrified. “I didn’t know, Mr. Malfoy! I swear I didn’t -- !”

But Lucius seemed perfectly disinterested in explanations or excuses: instead he shoved his hand under the sleeve of his robes and clasped his forearm.

Within seconds, more and more black-robed figures began to appear with loud cracks, surrounding the first one who had fallen -- terrible, impregnable smoke started to surround the block, making it impossible to see -- somewhere on the other side of the smoky barrier, Ed could hear the alarmed shouts of passerby running to get out of the way -- 

Ed, once he’d finally recovered, yanked his wand out of his robes, pointing it at the Death Eater who Sirius was still holding onto with his teeth. 

“Stupefy!”

The spell collided with the Death Eater’s chest head-on and knocked him unconscious, but within seconds, Ed found himself completely surrounded. 

Sirius dropped the man and phased into his human form just fast enough to conjure a large Shield Charm around him and Ed. 

“Might want to pick up the pace, Rosier!” he shot over his shoulder. “You’re gonna get killed if you think too much!”

Sirius lashed out at the Death Eaters, breaking them apart bit by bit as he darted across the alley. He was heading straight for Lucius. 

“Black!” cried Ed. “Black, don’t -- !”

Lucius’s eyes flashed coldly at the sight of Sirius. “Come out of your doghouse, then, Black?”

Sirius’s eyes narrowed, glinting with both loathing and something almost grim. 

“So Peter told you?” he spat. 

Lucius smirked. “Wormtail has told us many things about you, Black -- and about those you have relations with.”

The remark made Sirius’s temper flare. Within moments, the two men were trading violent blows. Elmer dashed off blindly into the smoke, desperate to escape the fighting. Ed meanwhile just barely managed to conjure up a non-verbal Shield Charm of his own and ducked a Killing Curse, trying to get to Sirius. 

They were outnumbered. Ed knew he would die here, if he stayed -- but -- 

Regulus’s modestly handsome face rippled over Ed’s mind -- and then Chess’s face, streaming with happy tears, when they first reunited after so many years apart. 

He couldn’t leave without Sirius. 

Lucius was truthfully no match for Sirius in a duel, but with how many other Death Eaters were with him, it wasn’t long before they got more than a few hits on Sirius. First a flaming curse grazed his shoulder -- then another collided square with his back. The last ended up cutting his arm open, making Sirius choke in pain as it spurted blood --

“Slugulus Eructo! Langlock! Nasus Vespertilio!”

Once Ed had effectively shaken off the Death Eaters with all of the immature hexes and jinxes he’d learned from dueling at school (the Bat Bogey Hex in particular was so strong it actually made one man’s bogeys attack both him and three of his cohorts), he slid and ducked under the last one’s arm so he could dart across the pavement to Sirius, just as Lucius raised his wand -- 

“BLACK!” Ed roared. “GRAB ONTO ME!”

Sirius barely had any time to react. Ed had lunged in front of him as if to shield him from Lucius’s attack with his own back -- Sirius grabbed onto the other man’s shoulders as best he could with his blood-soaked hands -- and in a flash of contorting limbs and colors, both men vanished, leaving nothing but a scorch mark on the pavement from where Lucius’s curse had landed. 

Sirius awoke in the master bedroom of Grimmauld Place about an hour later. Buckbeak had plopped himself down at his side, resting his head on the bed beside him. Sirius also immediately noticed that his shirt had been taken off and most of his wounds had been healed -- the only one that hadn’t was the burn on his shoulder, which was caked in some sort of orange paste and wrapped with bandages. He could also hear, somewhere down the hall, the sound of a piano being played. 

Inching himself up out of bed, Sirius pulled his shirt back on, being careful to mind his wounded shoulder, and headed down the hall to find Ed playing the piano.

“...That’s ‘Yesterday,’ isn’t it?”

Ed didn’t look up from the piano. “Yeah.”

Sirius watched the other man play for a moment in silence. He seemed to be trying to think of what to say, but was having difficulty. 

Ed decided to offer an olive branch. 

“How are you feeling?” 

“Better,” said Sirius. 

He paused. 

“...Did we get caught?” he asked at last.

“Nope,” said Ed. “Kreacher saw me bring you inside, of course...I asked him not to tell anyone that we left, but you’d have to make that an order, if we wanted it to be binding.”

Sirius’s eyes darkened. “Rest assured, I will.”

“Try to be decent in how you talk to him, for a change,” Ed said in soft reproach. 

“I’ll treat him with just as much respect as he does me,” said Sirius very darkly. 

Ed looked away with a resigned sigh, turning his focus back to the piano. Sirius watched his hands dance across the keys for another long moment before he spoke again. 

“You need to tell the Order what we heard. They already obviously know that Kingsley and Chess are misleading the Auror Department, in looking for me...if they know we’re guarding the Department of Mysteries, then that means they’ll be trying to target those who’ve been tasked to stand watch...”

Sirius’s voice trailed off as his eyes grew wider.

“...Unless,” he breathed, “they already have...”

Ed’s hands stilled mid-note on the piano. He looked up at Sirius, his eyebrows furrowed.

“Sturgis Podmore,” he recalled. “The Ministry caught him trying to break into what they said was ‘a classified area’ -- we thought he’d been caught while doing work for us, but what if -- ?”

“The Imperius Curse,” agreed Sirius, his face very pale and grim. “The Death Eaters knew he was guarding the Department for us and tried to use him to break into it for them.” 

“All while knowing that if Sturgis got caught, it would only serve to deprive Dumbledore of an ally, since we’re trying to keep our activities just as secret as they are,” finished Ed. 

The musician looked down at his hands on the keys. His mind was racing. 

Sirius looked from Ed’s hands to back up at his face. Then, rather uneasily, he strode forward to stand next to him, resting his hand on the piano. 

“We have plenty of Order members who’ve practiced how to fight off the Imperius Curse,” he said. “We’ll just have to factor that in, when we determine who stands watch. That way we won’t have to worry about Voldemort’s lackeys sabotaging us from the inside.”

Ed nodded. That did seem wise. 

Sirius considered Ed for another long moment. He brought a hand up to rest on his wounded shoulder, adjusting his shirt absently. 

“...It’s...a good thing you were able to listen in on Yaxley,” he said reluctantly. “You really came through, Rosier.”

Ed raised his eyebrows dryly. “Coming from someone as bullheaded as you, that’s quite a compliment.”

He got up and walked past Sirius. Before he could leave the room, though, Sirius stopped him.

“Rosier.”

Ed glanced over his shoulder. “Yeah?”

And amazingly, surprisingly, Sirius actually smiled. It was a small one, but it showed a flash of teeth, and it was oddly sincere as he lightly clutched his wounded shoulder.

“...Thanks.”

The smile didn’t look right, to Ed -- such a smile would never look right on such a handsome face. A smile like that, so modest and devoid of arrogance, belonged on a much humbler, boyish face...

Nonetheless Ed’s steel blue eyes softened noticeably. His own lips curled up in a smile too, faintly detached and yet kind. 

“...Hm. You’re welcome.”

His smile then spread into a fuller, teasing grin. 

“Now go lie down, Mutt. No sense in straining your shoulder while that paste is healing it.”

[carewyncromwell]

𝒪𝒽 𝒢𝑜𝒹...𝓉𝒽𝒶𝓉 𝒻𝒶𝒸𝑒...

x~x~x~x

For @cursebreakerfarrier​ because goddamn it, I adore our two new Black-boy-loving besties so much, I can’t stand it 💔

x~x~x~x

It had been nearly ten years since Chess Thornton had seen Sirius Black -- the man who she’d fallen in love with, only for him to be locked up in Azkaban for betraying his best friend and his family to Lord Voldemort and being responsible for their deaths. Ten years since she’d gotten her heart broken and tried to find a way to move on and survive despite it...

Then, out of the blue in 1990, Chess heard a song on the Wizarding Wireless Network at work called “Starlight.” It was for this new up-and-coming magical “boy band” called Spellb🔮und, supposedly featuring lyrics by one of the group’s members, who the radio host called “Zorro.” And yet the words -- as soon as Chess heard the words, she recognized something in them. 

Baby, you’re my starlight --

My constant light all through the night -- 

You shine so bright...help me do right!

My precious starlight --

Heal all my dreams and praise my schemes -- 

Help me prove I’m more than I seem -- 

Though no one else can see your gleam...

Lead me from the dark and pain

And help me find my way again...

My guiding starlight...

There was something so familiar, in how the lyricist stacked rhyme upon rhyme, never just resting on his laurels with the standard ABCB or ABAB rhyme schemes. It was exactly the way a boy she knew used to write his songs, back in the day...a boy who charmed his hair a bleached blond from the time he turned eleven years old, just to help him stand apart from the older brother he so resembled. A boy she hadn’t seen since before the War began, and who she hadn’t spoken to for many years before that, all due to a huge falling-out between them. 

And yet the words...without a doubt, Chess knew that that boy had written them. And based on what words had been written, she was pretty sure she knew who they were written for, as well.

Regulus Black -- Sirius’s younger brother, who, when he’d been alive, had almost always been seen in close proximity with his closest friend and (some rumored) lover, Edmund “Ed” Rosier. 

And so Chess reached out by owl. When Ed first received the letter alongside a lot of other fan mail, he almost put it aside, planning to just skim it later -- but when he saw the familiar handwriting on the front, he stopped, his heart coming to an abrupt, cold halt in his chest. Then he immediately snatched it, removing himself from everyone else to read it in private. 

He hadn’t thought in his wildest dreams that Chess would ever reach out to him -- would want anything to do with him ever again, after how he’d treated her when they were kids. He was afraid to hope -- afraid to even think of reaching back, if it meant being rejected again...but at the same time, after all the growth he’d gone through and how much he’d tried to work to improve himself all those years, he knew he couldn’t just remove himself from this. As much as he didn’t think his heart could take being rejected by Chess again -- being reminded how much he’d destroyed their friendship -- he knew after how much he’d hurt her, she deserved a full apology, and she deserved receiving it to her face, not through a letter. So he agreed to meet her. 

Their meeting was at the Three Broomsticks, where they often spent casual time together back in the day. Chess hadn’t really given much thought to how Ed might’ve changed over all those years. 

Whatever she had expected, though, it was not what she got -- for in those intermittent years, Ed had stopped bleaching his hair and gone back to his natural color. His now-once-again-brown hair had grown quite a bit too, so as to frame his steel blue eyes like two short curtains. He also dressed more casually than Chess had ever seen him dress before -- looking more like a Muggle working man going out to do some menial errands rather than the clean-cut son of a wealthy Pureblood family. 

The look didn’t bring Ed Rosier back to Chess’s mind -- but someone else entirely. In the back of her mind, Chess had subconsciously known that the Rosiers and the Blacks were related, just as all Pureblood families were -- but she’d never given that any thought until she came face-to-face with this man who looked so very much like Sirius...and yet addressed her hesitantly, his familiar, handsome steel blue gaze almost reaching out as if to tentatively touch her heart. 

“...Hello, Chess.”

Despite herself, Chess felt her own eyes bubbling up with tears.

After an entire school career of looking at Ed Rosier and not knowing who he even was anymore -- and then, after that, so many years of not seeing him at all, of thinking all she had left of him now were memories of a loyal, mischievous boy who longed so much for sincere love and approval...there he was. 

Her best friend, Eddie. 

Their friendship wasn’t completely repaired that day. There were stumbling blocks, and there were a lot of long and emotional conversations...but the two nonetheless reforged their friendship and made it stronger than ever before. Ed was unquestionably supportive of Chess in everything she did; Chess was so proud of how much Ed had grown and how good of a person he now fought to be; and both of them were so grateful that they had each other in their lives again. After so many years of them each being estranged from the person who had been the first and truest friend they’d ever had in their lives, being together again was empowering in a way neither Chess nor Ed could fully express. 

That doesn’t mean that, now and again, Ed’s resemblance to her old lover doesn’t sometimes throw Chess off. 

[carewyncromwell]

[See Ed with a spiral bound notebook resting on his leg, which crossed over his lap. See Ed absently tapping the page with his pen as he thinks.]

Ed: “(under his breath) Doo doo doo…next stanza… ‘You promise once; you break it twice…something something, not so nice?’ ‘Mice,’ ‘nice’… ‘thrice!’ ‘Something something, make it thrice…’”

[Cue Ed looking up because lookie here, he’s got company.]

Ed: “…Well, hello. Hope you weren’t expecting a serenade…I’m afraid the song’s not done yet.”

[He gives a white, fox-like grin.]

Ed: “Anyway…so my ‘mundane,’ as she calls herself — ”

Don’t know why anyone would be okay calling themselves that, but hey, to each their own.

“ — has lent me the Ask Box tonight, so as to test my voice. (smirks) Don’t know how you’ll hear my dulcet tones with this method, but hey — I’m not opposed to some vocal warm-ups.”

[He chuckles — it’s a low, warm, husky sound in the back of his throat.]

“Feel free to send me some questions…though I’m afraid I’ll have to put a hold on marriage proposals until after the third date. Come on, people, a guy could use some wining and dining too, now and again!”

And sorry, but I’m the one who’ll be popping the question to that person, when they come along, and only after I’ve planned out all of the wedding arrangements and how our lives together would work, if we went ahead and took that next step together. That is non-negotiable.

Ed: “I can always use some practice for press interviews, so feel free to ask me anything you’d like.”

I may or may not dodge any questions I don’t like.

Ed: “Music is my one true love, lyric writing in particular, but I also played Quidditch back in the day — go Slytherin!”

[He gives a muted fist pump to the air.]

Ed: “And yeah, anything about being part of Spellb🔮und is on the table too, though forgive me if I don’t spill the tea on all my band mates’ dirty little secrets. These are my buddies we’re talking about.”

If by “buddies,” you mean my coworkers — but even so, I’ve got their back, or else I can’t expect them to have mine.

Ed: “So yeah, have at it!”

((OOC: Yes, friends! Help me test out my newest muse’s voice by reblogging this post or submitting questions/such in my Ask Box…feel free to consult the “Ed Rosier” tag to learn more about my new guy!

Tagging some people who might be interested… @cursebreakerfarrier @kathrynalicemc @nightmaresart @aceyanaheim 💚))

[carewyncromwell]

I’m hiding from my hair curler-wielding friend rn so have another question for Eddie, can I call him Eddie or is that like overstepping btw?

Do you have any crazy fan stories? Like do people recognize you on the street and go aHHHH?

[Ed's expression is mild and wryly smiling, but there is a slight coolness to his eyes.]

Ed: "Ed. Not Eddie."

[Only one person calls him "Eddie." @cursebreakerfarrier

Despite this, he grins a bit more broadly and amusedly.]

Ed: "As for crazy fan stories..."

[Tries to hold in a low, chuckling laugh -- nope. Can't manage it.]

Ed: "...Okay, um...disclaimer first, most of our fans are lovely people, just...just lovely."

[Biting back more amusement.]

Ed: "But sure, there are fans who are a bit more passionate than others."

If you mean completely off their rocker.

Ed: "We all have people recognize us in public now and again, and usually fans are cool about it..."

If by usually you mean "occasionally."

Ed: "...but other times, yeah, it soon ends up devolving into people taking pictures of us and whoever we're with and trying to dissect why we're meeting, whether it's for work, whether we're dating...don't get me wrong, Rita Skeeter, we here at Spellb🔮und love you as much as the next person -- "

And just about everyone can't stand you.

Ed: " -- but my love life really isn't that dramatic."

Also stop asking questions about my relationship with Regulus, you nosy little rat.

Ed: "I'd say Tony tends to get recognized the most. He's the youngest of us, and I think fan polls put him as the most popular member of the group too. I wouldn't be completely surprised -- his voice is hella good. And he does have that boyish charm about him that makes all the girls swoon."

He's just lucky he's such a total virgin that he naively plays into that image.

[This thought makes Ed chuckle a bit more despite himself.]

Ed: "As for me, I can usually stay under the radar..."

Thank God for brimmed caps.

Ed: "...But I have had more than one eager fan try to propose to me, right out of the blue."

And grope me. Ugh. That one teenage fan who decided to try to grab at my arse knowing I was talking to a reporter and being photographed and so I had to be on my best behavior and not say anything...Merlin, I might not be afraid to play up the sex appeal, but that doesn't mean I want you touching me. Especially when you are a minor and I am so obviously not -- you really think I'd be into that? Eugh...

Ed: "I mean, I'm touched by the enthusiasm, really...but I reckon all of our fans deserve a true happily-ever-after, where they get someone who can sweep them off their feet, romance them, make them feel special."

And sorry, you're not getting it from me, if you're the type to want to date me just based on my good looks, mate. I don't do one-off flings.

[carewyncromwell]

Hi Ed! 👋 It's nice to meet you!

If you and the rest of Spellb🔮und could collaborate with other musicians or music groups for songs and stuff, whether they're from the Wizarding World or the Muggle World, which ones would they be and why?

((Sidenote for Tory: At first, I thought Ed's middle name/stage name is Zorro because you created him based on that vigilante with the same name, not because of the fox thing; but wow, he could totally pull off the look if he's dressing up for Halloween or something.))

MichaelJacksonMichaelJacksonMichaelJackson —

[Ed brings a hand through his hair, feigning thought.]

Ed: “…Hm — now that is an interesting question. I hesitate to speak on behalf of everyone…but one group in particular that really inspired our manager when talent-searching was this American Muggle band called New Kids on the Block. The Beatles is a favorite of several of the others’, as well…and of course, as reported previously by Witch Weekly, Tony’s a huge fan of the musical grand dame herself, Celestina Warbeck. His audition was actually one of her songs, if I remember correctly.”

[That’s a white lie: Ed will always remember how dramatic Tony’s rendition of “You Charmed the Heart Right Out of Me” was. But he figures that interview question would be better answered by Tony himself.

He smiles a bit more loosely.]

Ed: “…Reckon there are some other good Muggle solo artists who would be fun to collaborate with, though. Michael Jackson, for instance — I enjoyed his work with the Jackson Five, but since he’s gone solo, his flair for lyrics has really had a chance to shine.”

[And Ed has enjoyed memorizing every. Single. Song. 💚]

((OOC: LOL, interestingly, I originally chose it for its Slavic meaning, “new dawn,” so as to reference him starting over as a new person after Regulus’s death…but yeah, the other two meanings are so fun too! And hellz yeah, Ed could absolutely be “the fox so cunning and free” — that’d be a boss Halloween costume!! 🥰))

[carewyncromwell]

Okay since you asked for more questions…

What made you realize you wanted to do Spellb🔮und? Did you consider other careers before deciding on it?

(Now I feel like I’m being annoying xD

Ed: "Well, I'd wanted to join the music industry, period. It's what I've always wanted to do, since I was a kid -- I always wanted to write songs and make music and...well, be well-known for it. Appreciated for it, for what I could do. I'd actually been trying to make it as a solo artist, but I had trouble getting traction and getting my big break, so I was picking up a lot of work as a back-up vocalist for other people. Even helped out at a Weird Sisters' concert once, when they needed a guest artist who could play a Muggle keyboard synthesizer. Then I learned about this audition coming up for this new manager who'd recently emigrated from New York and was looking for young male vocalists with a talent for dancing. I gave it a go, got an interview...and well, yeah, that manager ended up becoming the guy my bandmates and I 'sold our souls to,' so to speak."

[He chuckles dryly. Someone who knows Ed well, though, might wonder how much of a joke it truly is, even though his voice remains rather light-hearted -- maybe it's something in his narrowed eyes or his restrained smile: a slight edge.]

Ed: "The concept behind Spellb🔮und was initially to create a band with no definitive lead singer. Instead it'd be made up of artists with stage names that reflected their role in the group. That way the band could switch out members over time, so as to stay fresh-faced and current, and yet still create consistently good music."

A businessman's dream come true, honestly. You can fire or replace anyone at any time, and yet still in an ideal world keep the fanbase, because the band's iconic image and sound is more important than individual members.

Ed: "Over time, though...well, the band's evolved."

Meaning I made it bloody clear to that arsehole that I am not going to give all of myself and get nothing in return again, especially not to the likes of him. And I sure as Hell am not going to let him kick any other artists to the curb without compensation either.

Ed: "So now even if yeah, we all use stage names and our group will have to still evolve and grow even if a member leaves...the goal will be that Spellb🔮und will be a family that can promote and support its past members...evolving in a way that still pays tribute to those who came before -- creating a legacy and traditions that future members can build off of."

The band can be a spring-board, for whenever one of us leaves...and yet a safe place to land, if we crash and burn.

((OOC: Noooo! Far from it, your questions are very helpful!! <3))