#when alice met narcissa

[n0blefl0wer]

Forget black cat x golden retriever. Give me earl grey tea x hot chocolate

Jegulus: james - hot chocolate, regulus - two bags of earl grey

Jegulily: same as above + Lily drinks herbal tea

Wolfstar: do I even need to elaborate?

Nobleflower: the BLUEPRINT

Rosekiller: Evan drinks earl grey and Barty drinks vodka out of a mug

[therealvinelle]

From what I can tell, in the actual books there's just one line from Sirius saying Alphard left him some gold, and not much other canon mention of him. How did Alphard become such a big character in your fics/Tom Riddle's love interest?

You know, that's a very good question.

The true and full story behind how Alphard Black became an important character in our fics is laden with a lot of spoilers and back-and-forth, though I will say it wouldn't have happened at all if @theoriginalcarnivorousmuffin hadn't already used him in When Harry Met Tom. When we later then needed to add a character for The Man Who Would Be King, Alphard's name lent itself easily and on discussion we found he was the only that really fit the role we needed a character to play. He went on to become a surprisingly large part of secret fic, now we've imprinted on him like baby ducks and he's in everything.

So, what makes Alphard Black so fitting for what we need him to be?

We have little to go on from canon, but compared to some of the other characters fandom has decided on characterisation for, we at least have something to go on when we make stuff up. Oh, we have to conjecture, fabricate, and headcanon away, and for every possible Alphard Black we draft up someone could have used those same clues to create a different Alphard, but we would both be following certain constraints.

By contrast, characters like Alice Longbottom or Abraxas Malfoy have very strong fanon characterizations, a lot read into them, but I'd argue we have just as much, if not slightly more, to go on with Alphard Black.

With that said, here is the information we have on Alphard and how Muffin and I used every bit of it to make up as much as we could.

Teen pregnancy 1.0: Pollux edition

Alphard's sister was born when their father Pollux Black was twelve, and his father married her mother. Going by his young age, I assume this was so Walburga wouldn't be a bastard. Walburga, by her painting's ravings, appears to have spent all her life in 13 Grimmauld Place, she feels a connection to "the house of my fathers" and always had a strong sense of Black identity she tried to pass on to her sons: I think it's a very fair assumption that the Blacks raised the baby, and not her mother's family (as her mother would have been in Hogwarts as well or else a statutory rapist, either case spells a grim homelife for Walburga).

Now, Alphard's birthdate is unknown since he's struck off the family tree, but it was sometime between 1925 and 1938.

Muffin and I have decided that he was born the next year, since this gives Tom a dorm mate, and more importantly it gives Alphard a teen father, one who learned nothing from last year and assumed no responsibility. Tom now has a fucked up dorm mate, and we didn't have to (completely) invent a character.

You now have two kids raised by family members not their parents since their father is a literal thirteen-year-old, and the generational age gap is so narrow that when Walburga starts school her paternal aunt Dorea is canonically a fifth year. They want for nothing materially and the family does step up, but the complete parental absence in their life has an impact.

For the sake of funny, we thought Arcturus Black, who is already raising Lucretia and Orion, is our candidate for raising his cousin's spawn. Now Walburga's marriage to her second cousin is to someone who was raised alongside her, which is funny and so awful. Another feasible candidate is Cygnus Black, Pollux's father and currently raising four kids, but... not as funny.

Teen pregnancy 2.0: Cygnus edition

Cut to 1951. Alphard is a happy bachelor, his father has stopped having kids (legitimate ones anyhow), Walburga's happily married to their cousin, and then... their brother Cygnus does a booboo.

Bellatrix is born, Cygnus is thirteen. Andromeda's birthdate is unknown, but must have been while he was in Hogwarts because Narcissa is born in 1955, while he is still seventeen.

The same problem as with Pollux arises with Bellatrix: who wants baby? And, as with Walburga, I think a fair argument could be made that the Blacks took her in, not the Rosiers.

There are many options here (and can't rule out the Rosiers), but I think it's fair to assume Bellatrix went to live with close family.

Per the Black family, this gives us three options that I find feasible: Walburga, Alphard, and Pollux.

I don't think it was Walburga, I think that would inevitably have come up in canon, either as Walburga lost her shit when Andromeda eloped, handled her grief differently after Regulus died if she had surrogate daughters, or Sirius had a different dynamic with Bellatrix. The Orion-Walburga-Sirius-Regulus family unit doesn't come across at all as having had three nieces raised alongside the boys, so Walburga's a no.

Which leaves us with Alphard, Pollux, someone in the Rosier family, or extended Black family raising Bellatrix.

Pollux, per his wild youth, might not be topping the lists. One could posit that Pollux wants a second shot at parenting and would take in his granddaughter based on this, but he already has Cygnus if he wanted a second shot at parenting. Still, he's a candidate.

So is Alphard, however, who is living alone and has no wife to worry about, no children of his own, and a pile of gold. Per his choice to give Sirius gold after he ran away, one can also assume he's one to come through for family, which fits with taking in his much younger brother's daughter.

TL;DR: we can't prove Alphard Black didn't raise the Black sisters, or at least care for them in their early years, but someone must have and it might as well have been him.

Let there be no pregnancies and no marriages

We then enter the bit that had Muffin go "oh, gay. I will use him in my fic" long before any of the detective nonsense to come up with the above, which is that Alphard did not marry. Now, that could mean anything, perfectly straight people don't marry and gay people do marry.

However, from 1938 through 1960, no Black heirs are born. Which isn't necessarily a long time, on the contrary, Cygnus has been supplying the family with children for years now, luck just had it so they're all daughters who can't pass on the family name.

Still, taking a step back, Orion, Walburga, Alphard, and Lucretia (who married a Prewett) are all adults who are just not having any children. The Orion and Walburga are perhaps not even married, we don't know when they married, and it could be they married specifically because neither of them had found anyone else to marry and there were no sons. Alternatively, they married earlier but then did not have children until they were in their mid-thirties. Considering Lucretia's childless marriage, it might be some Blacks struggled with infertility.

A bit of nerding about why I think Walburga waiting so long to have children is odd

The tldr for Western European demographics is that if you can afford to have children and provide for your family, you will marry and have children early. The upper classes have historically married and had children much younger than the lower classes because of this. The mother's education will also impact when she has children - higher education means having children later.

I think we see this reflected in the wizarding world, in that education is both low (arguably nonexistent, considering the curriculum at Hogwarts) and in magic making material considerations Muggles must make obsolete. And we do see a lot of young parents - Lily and James are both 20 when they have Harry, Andromeda is maximum 24 when she has Nymphadora Tonks, Molly Weasley is 20 when she has Bill, Narcissa is 25 when she has Draco, Fleur would have been 23-25 when she had Victoire, Harry and Ginny are 26 and 25 when they have James Sirius, Hermione and Ron are 26-27 when they have Rose...

Young is the norm.

And with the Blacks, who were lineage obsessed, and where Walburga is never reported to have had a career keeping her busy, I find it very interesting that Walburga doesn't have children until she's 35.

There are three possible explanations I can see:

Walburga and Orion didn't want to have children, and waited for Alphard or Cygnus to get on with it, only for Cygnus to only have daughters and Alphard to have no children at all (bit unlikely since they had two sons, a couple who pointedly did not want children would have called it quits after the first)

They had fertility issues

Walburga and Orion did not instantly marry, but waited for years until it became clear Orion wasn't going to find anybody else, Alphard apparently not either, and Cygnus said "fuck you all, I've contributed three kids already", at which point Walburga and Orion were both single, both cared about the lineage, and went for it.

We've gone for option 2 since it's just funnier to have a pair of cousins all over each other at Hogwarts, "Aren't they-" "Yes and they're very happy together :)", but I think option 3 is pretty feasible too.

Either way, you can read into Walburga and Orion from the late births of their children and you also get free Alphard characterisation, because his choice not to marry starts to look rather pointed.

Back to Alphard

While the Blacks were not dying out at the time, they also weren't swimming in children. Only Cygnus was passing on the family name, and that was exclusively to daughters, and he went on to have no more (legitimate) children after leaving school. Pollux wasn't having any more (legitimate) children, and while there are and grandfathers uncles on the family tree who could do the deed they were quite old, many unmarried, and most importantly they canonically had no children.

We're down to Alphard, Orion, and Cygnus having to pass on the family name, with Orion and Walburga a decade into their marriage with no sons to show for it. Sure, Cygnus could have sons, but that would be placing all their dragon eggs in one dragon basket (and indeed, he had no sons).

Why doesn't Alphard marry?

The family must have brought it up, if not pressured him. Alphard not marrying in a world where arranging a match would have been the easiest thing in the world looks to me like a deliberate refusal.

The giving of the money to the Sirius

This all brings us to the one thing we know for sure that Alphard did in his life: he willed money to Sirius after he'd been disowned.

We know Alphard was not a blood traitor prior to this, or he'd have been burned off earlier.

I frankly take this to mean Alphard most likely subscribed to pureblood supremacy, or at least he did not mind it enough to do anything else to cross his family. Giving money to Sirius isn't a political act, it's an uncle providing for a family member who has suddenly lost everything.

(And, if we assume Alphard himself is gay: it's an uncle who sees his nephew run away from home to be with his best friend, and perhaps drawing a few conclusions of his own about the strength of Sirius's friendship to James. There are many ways to interpret his choice to support Sirius financially, is what I'm saying.)

It also seems a distinct overreaction to me that Walburga would burn him off the family tapestry for something like this, and... it seems very much like one angry, mourning, woman's way of hurting a brother she can no longer confront. If she had been hoping Sirius wouldn't make it out in the wild and be forced to return, then Alphard giving him money would be a betrayal of the highest order.

Walburga putting a cigarette to her wallpaper isn't the same as the entire Black family disowning Alphard posthumously, it's an act of grief and anger.

Where we make things up wholesale

I'll go ahead and assume Alphard was gay, had a good and stable but slightly fucked up family life, and got overly attached to his dorm mate Tom Riddle as a stranger to all of this who perhaps seemed above it all. I also vote he raised Bellatrix, Narcissa, and Andromeda, because it's a more interesting option than Pollux. (In case you didn't notice, Muffin and I subscribe to the Black family being as fucked up as we can reasonably make them.)

Vinelle, what was the point of this?

My point is that we may not have any canon appearances to go on with Alphard Black, but we do have dates, biographical facts, what he did with his will, a few statements from Walburga's insane painting and other characters, and a whole lot of imagination. And an obsessive tendency.

And a willingness to say "Mm, no. Can't read. Sorry, that fact's just wrong." when we don't like things (more specifically, Sirius's phrasing making it sound like Alphard died not too long after Sirius ran away from home, which would make him dead for The Man Who Would Be King, a fic that takes place in 1982. We will assume Sirius meant "gave", not "left".)

Wee.

[nothingtoseeherebyeexx]

Delicate, Chapter Four: Party in the USA…at Potter Manor? (Mary’s Version)

i had to split this chapter bc it was 9k words 😭 anyways mary meets the gang and everyone has fun!! ppl drink, dorcas and marlene are a mess, mary and lily are cuties.

< prev chapter next chapter >

Mary, surprisingly, was far more comfortable than she expected.

Narcissa had warned her that ‘small gathering’ for the Potters actually meant private met galas, but spending time with Narcissa and living with her had taught Mary that those distant, untouchable celebrities were, in the end, just human. If things got too overwhelming, Mary could always try to see this party like one of her high school proms, with jocks, nerds and mean girls. Sadly enough, it worked.

She also had Narcissa and Lily, who were extremely helpful in feeling less like a fish out of water.

Lily alone could distract her from everyone else by simply existing: in person, her eyes were the brightest shade of green, and her red hair flowed like a cloud every step she took. Her round face was scattered with freckles, (her arms, her cheeks, her nose, her forehead) and she had dimples when she smiled, that of course were the first thing Mary noticed, because the instant she had arrived at the door, Lily had beamed like a star. When she had taken her and Narcissa’s hands and dragged them to Mrs Potter, Mary was still too dizzy to worry about anything, and all the tension had disappeared.

“Effie, these are Mary MacDonald and Narcissa Black. Mary, Narcissa, this is Euphemia Potter.” Lily smiled, tilting her head.

The woman had wrinkles around her eyes and her dark hair was streaked of grey, but the look in her eyes was young and mischievous, her posture composed but not intimidating. She was wearing a bright pink sari and gold jewels that tingled when she held Mary’s hand affectionately. Her skin was a bit rough, but her palms and fingers were decorated with delicate flowers and complicated designs.

“Mary, it’s a pleasure to finally meet you! I’m James’ mother, he’ll be here soon enough. Lily has told us so much about-“

“Mary! Let me take you on a tour of the house.” Lily interjected with a tight smile, putting her hands on Mary’s shoulder and pulling her away, but she didn’t lead her really far. Effie didn’t seem too bothered by the interruption, and she soon started chatting with Narcissa instead.

Speaking of Narcissa, she seemed to have recovered quickly from her disastrous encounter with Alice, but Mary knew she was hurt. If anything, Narcissa’s polite smiles and friendly demeanour were a clear sign she was trying to act nonchalantly. Mary would talk to her about it, when they came home.

“Sadly, I have to greet the guests until the boys show up, so I can’t chat with you properly,” Lily apologised, “But I promise I’ll make it up to you once the party has really started.”

Since the room was a bit noisy and she didn’t want to shout, Mary turned her head to speak directly in Lily’s ear, pretending to be offended. “It’s a shame all these people are stealing you from me. At least Narcissa is still on my side.”

As if on cue, a loud gasp coming from a few steps form them attracted their attention.

“Oh my God. Narcissa Black?” called one of the mean-girl looking women, with a champagne glass in her left hand and the other dramatically pressed against her chest.

“Evelyn Zabini?” Narcissa answered, surprised, “Oh. My. God.”

The two ran to each other, exchanging a quick hug and affectionate kisses on cheek. Then they started talking so fast Mary couldn’t keep up, and was left on the sidelines watching the couple shoot words at each other faster than a machine gun.

“Ugh, more people are coming,” Lily cursed, turning to the entrance.

“I have to go. Zabini is with a friend of mine though,” she nodded towards the girl standing behind the woman. “She’s cool. I bet you’ll get along,” she added, giving Mary a squeeze before disappearing.

Mary appreciated Lily’s optimism, but the girl looked positively intimidating.

From a closer look Mary could tell she was younger and much taller than Evelyn Zabini, and was surely the best dressed at the party: her black hair was arranged in a complicated up-do, her locs ornated with gold jewellery, and she had plenty of rings, necklaces and bracelets to cover her fingers, neck and arms. Even her dress, white, long and figure-hugging, had gold accents, and she wore it proudly and easily, like a knight in armour. Mary was ready to bet her right heel that she was a model.

“Hi, I’m Dorcas Meadowes,” she introduced herself, politely, “I’m sorry, but I don’t think I’ve seen you around…What’s your name?”

Okay, so scratch the mean girl part, Dorcas seemed pretty nice, despite the austere appearance.

“I’m Mary MacDonald,” she smiled, “I’m a friend of Narcissa’s. I’m releasing an album soon, so I’m not surprised you haven’t heard of me yet.”

“I like the ‘yet’,” Dorcas smirked, “But if you’re that Mary MacDonald, then I actually have heard of you before…did you perform with Narcissa for the Yule Festival?”

“Yes, I did,” answered Mary, surprised. “And you remembered me after a single song?”

“You sang really well. And, well, I have my ways to stay informed.”

That did feel a bit ominous, but Mary just nodded along.

“So…you’re a friend Lily’s. Are you also a singer?”

“Oh, I wish!” Dorcas chuckled, covering her mouth with her hand. “No, I’m a model.”

Told you.

And then, Lily was right next to her, her sage green dress swishing. There was always something in motion with Lily, Mary didn’t know where to look.

“They’re here!” Lily proclaimed, grabbing Mary’s arm.

“Is Marlene with them, too?” Dorcas asked, with renewed interest.

“Of course she is,” Lily smirked, “Are you going to talk to her this time, Cas?”

“Oh, shut up.” Dorcas rolled her eyes, and then the three of them, followed by the rest of the people in the room, walked towards the entrance.

Ten minutes in, and Mary had already lost Narcissa. Peachy.

All around her, people were eyeing the door, whispering excitedly.

“Once the others arrive, the party can really start,” murmured Lily with a soft smile.

And soon enough, a blonde girl slammed the door open, gathering everyone’s attention.

“Make way, the King is back from war! All hail Peter Pettigrew!” she announced, and with a theatrical twirl, she made space for the three boys behind her.

“He was actually on tour, but Marlene loves being dramatic,” explained Lily, radiant. Mary could read in Lily’s face that she was enamoured with her friends, and she felt a pang of jealousy in her chest: she had never really felt a connection to the people she used to hang with, being busy with part time jobs and helping her parents with chores and taking care of her brothers, so all the friendships she had in high school had quickly died after graduation.

She supposed she had grown too quickly for the other kids her age.

If the atmosphere up until five minutes before was overall calm and formal, the boys’ arrival surely changed the mood: the quiet whispers turned to shouts, the polite laughs to whistles. Two boys, that Mary recognised as Sirius Black and James Potter, had entwined their arms forming a human throne for the third young man, Peter Pettigrew, to sit on during his regal entrance, and they were all stumbling inside rather precariously. (“Lower, lower, you’ll hit the door!” “We’re trying, Marls!”)

James and Sirius lowered Peter to the ground, and immediately shielded him from the crowd, like bodyguards would do, but Peter was still greeting everyone like a king meeting his subjects. The crowd went along with it, cheering and extending their arms like insatiable fans.

Lily launched herself at Peter with a laugh, ending the ridiculous farce. People slowly went back to their conversations, but the house seemed livelier, louder than before.

“Black, King Peter is under attack! Restrain this woman!” James shouted, and tried to detach Lily from Peter, but the both of them just hugged each other more tightly.

“Her aura is too strong, Potter! McKinnon, we need help!” called Sirius.

“That’s enough, boys,” interjected Peter, slightly out of breath. “Let me say hi to our Lils. Hi, Lils.”

“Hi, Pete,” she smiled. “How was the tour?”

“Fun. Exhausting. How are you?”

“Very well. Actually,” she turned to James and Sirius, “I have to introduce you all to someone. Marlene, you’d better not have spoiled the surprise.”

Mary wasn’t really far from them, actually, but being all so focused on each other, the group hadn’t noticed her presence, yet. That of course changed when Lily, after giving her a reassuring look, gently put a hand on her shoulder and led her closer to her friends.

“Mary, these are my friends. People, this is Mary MacDonald.”

A small part of Mary was a bit scared of the heavy judgement that was bound to happen, but the eyes of her jury seemed to quickly light up in recognition.

James was the first to speak. He was wearing a bright button down and gold rimmed glasses, paired with a bright smile. Apparently, all of Lily’s friends smiled a lot.

“Hello, Mary. I’m James Potter, it’s a pleasure to meet you. You look amazing, by the way.” He offered her his hand and she shook it gladly. Before she could even reply, though, Sirius barged in with a grin. He looked like a rockstar from the seventies, with the leather jacket and flared jeans that drove girls insane.

“Sirius Black. You’re the girl who sang with my cousin, right?”

“Yes. I’ve been working with Narcissa for a few months now.”

“Damn…Willingly?” he asked, sincerely worried.

That genuinely made her laugh, and it was Peter’s cue to introduce himself.

Mary had the sneaky suspicion they were trying to surpass each other at making her comfortable.

“Peter Pettigrew. These idiots made sure everyone knew it the moment I stepped in the room, though, so…” he said fondly, and shook her hand. “Lily told us about you-“

“Mary! You haven’t met Marls yet!” Lily interrupted him, and soon the blonde had her arms wrapped around Mary’s neck. Mary reluctantly hugged her back, and let Marlene rest her chin on her shoulder.

“Marlene McKinnon. And yes, Lily hasn’t stopped talking about you since she saw your video,” Mary noticed the glare sent in Marlene’s direction.

Lily had been talking about her. Oh.

“Holy shit.” Marlene whispered, tightening her arms around Mary and blocking her from thinking too much about the implications of Lily Evans talking to her friends (repeatedly) about her.

“Marlene,” greeted Dorcas.

“Meadowes,” Marlene replied, icy, and Mary couldn’t see her face but she had the feeling she was being used like a human shield, covering Marlene by the deadly, super-model shaped threat.

“Is Regulus coming?” asked said threat to Sirius. Marlene let Mary go.

“Yes, he’s picking up Pandora. They’ll be here soon, I think.“ Sirius replied, turning to the door and glancing at the dark, empty street.

Coincidentally, a young man appeared on the doorstep, apparently searching for someone with his eyes.

He was certainly not Regulus: he was ridiculously tall and looked a bit out of place, with his white t-shirt and jeans. He had tattoos on his arms, snaking around light scars.

“Remus!” Peter called, approaching him with open arms.

“Oh, hey,” Remus answered, “I’ve parked your car, but I couldn’t find a closer spot so you’ll have to walk down the street. It’s on the right, after the yellow house,” he continued, pointing to somewhere in the dark, the car keys tingling with every movement. He had a deep voice, a bit husky, and a Welsh accent.

“Before I leave, I wanted to bring you your keys-“

“Oh, friend of mine,” Peter laughed, putting an arm around his shoulders.

“You’ve fallen into my trap. I’m now forcing you to meet the rest of my friends. Guys, this is my bassist, Remus Lupin!”

As he approached the group, Remus’ gaze travelled from Peter to them, a mix of panic and annoyance, and stopped on Lily, who was squinting at him, focused.

“I know you!” She exclaimed, pointing at him, “You played at one of my first concerts! You’re the tall dude who reads Virginia Woolf!”

Remus laughed, surprised, and offered his hand. “Lily Evans. How did you even recognise me? It’s been years!”

“Remus,” explained Lily, “You’re a scary tall bassist who reads classics pre-shows. Most people usually get high. Of course I remember you!”

“I let my hair grow, though!” Remus protested, pointing to his head for further proof.

“A haircut doesn’t completely change your appearance-“

“Now that’s a lie, Lils,” interjected Sirius, then looked at Remus. The dramatic pause felt a bit suspicious to Mary, but surely Black was not going to flirt with-

“I’m Sirius Black.”

“I know,” Remus shook his hand and added, sarcastic, “It’s your real name? I thought it was just a stage thing.”

“Watch your mouth, Remus Lupin who reads Virginia Woolf,” Sirius said with an eyebrow raised and a smirk that didn’t falter. “Do you have ‘ALPHA WOLF’ tattooed somewhere, too?”

“You’re onto me. Stick around and find out,” Remus countered, raising his palms.

Oh, they were so going to hook up. Mary generously gave them forty minutes.

The rest of the introductions were less flirtatious, although it was hard to tell in James’ case: Mary guessed that probably Potter was like that with everyone. (“I’m James Potter. Where did Peter find you, Remus? You’re handsome as hell!” “Thank you. He found me in a dumpster.” “That is correct.”)

As Lily, Marlene, Peter, James and Sirius started talking animatedly, Mary was inevitably cut off from the conversation, but at least she was in good company: she, Dorcas and Remus stood next to each other, a bit awkwardly, and their hands were promptly occupied by glasses of champagne. Not like Mary was going to drink so soon.

“This may be a bad time to confess that I’m terrible at remembering names, and there are a lot of people here already,” whispered Remus, “Is anyone else coming?”

“Sirius’ brother and another friend,” replied Dorcas easily. “Pandora is unforgettable, so I don’t think you’ll have problems with her. Regulus looks exactly like his brother, but he’s more…reserved.”

“Do you know them well?” asked Mary.

“We’re friends, have been for a while now,” then she added, with a malicious smirk, “Have you heard the rumours about Regulus and Pandora?”

“Rumours? What, they’re together?” asked Remus.

“They say so on the Internet,” sighed Mary, “But I wouldn’t be so sure. You can’t trust what they say online.”

Dorcas glanced at her, looking pleased. “Lily did say you didn’t seem bothered by the public opinion.”

“I don’t care for the words of people I don’t care about,” Mary shrugged. She had accepted to work with Lily because Narcissa and Amelia thought it would be a good idea, and even the impression she had of Lily was more than positive.

“Anyways,” Mary continued, raising an eyebrow with a smirk. “You’re friends with Lily and her lot. As much as I enjoy your presence, why are you here and not with them?”

“You-“ Dorcas pressed her lips together, stressed, and averted her gaze, focusing on the champagne glass in her hand. “It’s complicated. I mean, I’m not the one making it complicated, but-“

During the silence that followed, Mary and Remus glanced at each other, sharing that complicity only two people who are going to be annoying to a love-struck fool share.

They moved closer to Dorcas.

“What happened, Dorcas?” cooed Remus.

“Who’s breaking you heart, Cas?” mocked Mary.

“You two are horrible,” declared Dorcas, bashful. It was strange, seeing her so timid, but Mary found it endearing.

“Sirius, he’s here!” James exclaimed, out of the blue.

Regulus Black had indeed stepped into the house, holding hands with a girl that was presumably Pandora Lovegood. They made for a really odd pair: where Regulus had short, black hair, Pandora had long, blonde locs; the first had pale skin dotted with moles, the second a darker, smooth complexion; he was wearing an elegant black suit, she looked like her outfit had been weaved from clouds during a sunset. They were polar opposites, but somehow it made sense, like they balanced each other.

Sirius’ head perked up and in seconds he was approaching his brother, going for a hug, but Regulus averted him easily, letting Pandora wrap her arms around Sirius instead. The man drooped on her, acknowledging Regulus’ victory, and started swaying, crestfallen, still holding a giggling Pandora. After she patted Sirius’ sorrows away, she let him go and jumped into Dorcas’ arms, giving her a kiss on the cheek and an enthusiastic “Hi!”, and then did the same to her other friends, even when it came to Mary and Remus’ turn.

Mary thought she smelled like candy, and it was extremely fitting.

Regulus simply gave everyone a nod. Reserved, alright.

“Who are the strangers?” asked Pandora, grabbing Regulus’ hand and motioning towards Mary and Remus’ general direction.

“She’s Mary MacDonald,” explained Lily, “She’s a singer.”

“Not yet, Evans,” smiled Mary, “I have yet to publish my album.”

“Technicalities.”

“Regulus Black,” greeted the boy, politely offering his free hand. Mary shook it and found it cold, which was also extremely fitting.

“And he,” intervened Peter, grabbing Remus by the shoulders, “Is Remus Lupin. My bassist.”

Regulus shook hands with him, too.

“He was mine, first. Enjoy my leftovers, Pettigrew,” smirked Lily.

“Keep an eye on Potter then, Red,” joked Peter, winking at James.

So James and Lily had dated, then. Mary wouldn’t have guessed it, just by looking at them: they seemed pretty at ease around each other, which was unusual for exes.

“Are we going to stand here all night?” asked Regulus. “Because if that’s the case, I’d like to at least have a drink in hand.”

“I’ll make you one,” offered James, “Mum should also be in the kitchen, she’ll be happy to see you.”

“Is Fleamont here, too?” Regulus asked.

“He’s probably in his study. We can stop by, if you want to say hello.” James smiled.

Apparently, the Potter’s were used to having James’ friends around, given how at home everyone looked. Would Mary have something like that, too?

“Okay,” Regulus nodded, then turned to Pandora, who was still holding his hand.

“Do you want anything?”

She thought about it. “Mmmh…do you have pomegranate juice?”

“I’ll…see what I can do,” answered James, unsure.

And with that, he and Regulus left, and an embarrassed silence fell on the rest of the group.

“…Shall we reclaim our sofa?” suggested Peter.

~

One hour later, Mary found herself squeezed between Dorcas and Marlene, sitting on a sofa that surely wasn’t designed for six people: James, Sirius and Peter were also with them, and they kept moving around and swaying so much that Mary thought one of them was bound to fall off, sooner or later. Lily was sitting on the sofa’s armrest and talking to Remus, who was on the floor. The boys had tried multiple times to convince him to lay on them, but Remus had wisely declined the offer.

Regulus and Pandora were sharing an armchair, and Mary couldn’t help but feel conflicted: those two really acted like a couple, and at the same time there wasn’t any romantic tension between them.

There was tension between Marlene and Dorcas, though: the model had tried multiple times to strike a conversation with Marlene, who resolutely ignored her. Mary attempted to help Dorcas by trying to include Marlene while they were chatting, but the couple ended up bickering, so she had ultimately given up.

Mary had even ended up there completely by accident: Marlene at first had sat next to Lily, but then Lily left her spot for Mary ‘who never had sofa privileges’, and then Dorcas had sat next to Mary.

An unfortunate turn of events that saw Mary trying to divert the awkwardness by eavesdropping on Remus and Lily’s conversations and keeping an eye on Narcissa: Mary did lose her at the beginning of the party, but she had kept an eye on the kitchen door, since Fortescue still hadn’t left the room, so as long as she stayed there and Narcissa stayed not there, Mary didn’t have to worry.

“Oi, why don’t we play Soundtrack?” proposed James, after a while. Sirius, Peter and Marlene immediately agreed, while Lily and Regulus groaned simultaneously.

“Every time we play that game I forget every title of any song I’ve ever listened to,” lamented Lily, while Regulus protested, “Someone always ends up making it dirty. Always.”

In the commotion stirred by Regulus and Lily’s uncooperativeness (“Don’t be a party pooper Evans.” “It isn’t always sexual, Reg!”), Mary managed to make herself heard when she asked, curious, “What is Soundtrack?”

The group quieted down, probably realising that Mary, along with Remus and apparently even Dorcas, had never played the game. For some reason, James and Sirius seemed particularly shocked by the fact.

“It’s easy,” James started explaining, “Someone makes up a scenario, or chooses a topic, and the others have to think of the title of a song that best describes it. Then the group votes for the funniest pick, and the winner decides the next topic.”

“Seems easy enough,” commented Remus. “Who’s starting?”

“So we’re actually playing, then,” sighed Regulus. “I’m quitting as soon as someone makes it dirty. I’m warning you.”

“I’ll start,” said James, turning on the sofa to face as many people as possible, although it was difficult in his disadvantageous position.

“Imagine,” he began, emphasising his words by spreading his arms. “It’s Friday night and you’ve just got home from the bar, you’re a bit drunk, and have no clue where your home is-“

“I forgot James was the one with the long-ass scenarios.”

“-It’s part of the fun, Baby Black. You’re trying to find your home, and suddenly an old woman appears…”

They play some rounds, and Mary has fun, indeed. Lily’s shocked face when Pandora used the title of one of her songs was priceless (“You listen to my songs???” “Of course! Girls support girls!”), and Sirius’ explanations behind each and every title he chose were ridiculous, but James was always there to back him up. Even Marlene and Dorcas were almost at ease, despite being so close.

In the end, it was time for Dorcas to choose a topic. She looked at Regulus maliciously, and he immediately tensed next to Pandora, who was slowly slipping off the armchair.

“Describe your sexual life-“

“Fine, Meadowes, if you wanted to stop playing, you could’ve just said so.”

“Come on, Reggie,” smiled Sirius. “It’s the funniest part!”

“Not when your brother is also playing,” Regulus retorted.

“Jesus, it’s just a game! I don’t want to think about you being involved in…” Sirius made a disgusted face. “Those activities, either. It doesn’t have to be true.”

“Fine. Nobody, then,” Regulus answered, snide, like picking a notoriously depressing song for a vulgar question consisted as an act of rebellion against his brother.

Well, at least now Mary had one more reason to believe he and Pandora were not together.

“Emo bitch,” Sirius whispered.

“Supermassive Black Hole,” Peter said, looking straight ahead like a divine entity had foretold him the answer. Marlene cracked up.

“Escapism,” Mary proposed, getting a few grave nods from Remus and James, and a “that’s deep,” from Dorcas.

“Don’t Stop Me Now,” offered James smirking, and Sirius shoved him (causing the rest of the people one the sofa to squeeze even more) for stealing his answer.

“Under Pressure,” said Remus, and Sirius turned to him, this time, so quickly his neck almost snapped.

“Queen fan?”

“Bowie, mostly. But I like Queen, too.”

Mary noticed that, surprisingly, Remus and Sirius hadn’t fucked yet. She suspected Remus enjoyed the flirting but wasn’t that willing to jump on Sirius the first time they met, while Sirius, well…Sirius was a bit of a mess when it came to the scary bassist.

Mary didn’t give them enough credit.

“I have it! 4 Minutes” exclaimed Lily, clapping her hands, and James, along with everyone else, immediately erupted into loud laughter.

Mary was suddenly struck by how unbothered everyone around them was: even she had forgotten she was at a party, a fancy party, with rich, famous people. Even the young adults surrounding her, they were all supposed to feel far, far from her. Powerful. Unattainable.

But James Potter laughed, Peter Pettigrew shoved a giggling Sirius Black, and Lily Evans’ face became red from embarrassment.

It was so easy to feel like one of them.

“Oh, uhmmm…” Pandora looked troubled. “Who are you. There must be a song called like that.”

“It doesn’t count if you use a normal sentence, Dora. If it doesn’t exist, you’ll have to pick another,” said Peter, struggling to pull out his phone from his pocket. “There’s one, it’s called Who Are You, by The Who.”

Then he turned the volume as high as possible, and everyone got closer to hear.

“…Is it the fucking CSI Intro?”

The music was quickly drowned by shameless laughter that didn’t stop until the song was over.

Even Regulus chuckled, for the amusement of anyone who noticed.

“Oh my-Okay. Okay, my turn,” began Sirius, still breathless, ”Now, this was my third option, so it’s not the best,”

“Excuses. Just say it sucks and let’s move on,” interrupted Regulus, well settled on the armchair. He looked pretty entertained despite his aversion to the topic. Pandora, in the meantime, had fallen to the floor, since apparently the weight of thinking of an answer had slowly pushed her off the seat.

“A boost to the ego. Thank you, Reg. My answer was Glad You Came, but my brother brutally decapitated my confidence, so…”

Sirius was met with chuckles from everyone (but his brother, since the first rule for younger siblings is to never gratify the oldest, in any way), so his morale was still high.

“It’s a really good option,” commented Lily, wheezing, “but we still have to hear Marlene’s.”

“The best for last,” she smiled, smug, and then she looked at all of them solemnly. “Drum rolls, please?” Everyone immediately complied.

“The title to best depict my sexual life, truthfully and currently, would be Me and Your Mama, specifically yours, Potter,” and she winked at James, who immediately made a gagging noise while everyone, for the umpteenth time that night, lost it.

“Effie truly is a wonderful woman,” Mary agreed.

“I’m so glad to see you have taste,” replied Marlene, putting an arm around her shoulders. If she had accidentally touched Dorcas, she didn’t give any sign of acknowledging it. Since she was so close, Mary could see that Marlene had small freckles on her skin, and her front teeth were slightly gapped. She reminded her of those mischievous elves you’d see on illustrations of old tales, the ones that would trip lost adventurers and steal their food.

“We should add her to the group chat!” she proposed to the rest of the group. “Remus, too!”

“You have a group chat together? All of you?” asked Dorcas, and the mood instantly changed, the laughter dying in favour of an awkward silence.

Mary felt strangely guilty.

Oh, this was awful.

“…I’ve tried to add you, Cas,” intervened Regulus, breaking the silence. He seemed sincerely sorry.

“But someone, I won’t name names-“

“I will, it’s Marlene,” interjected Pandora. Marlene glared daggers at her, but not for long: it was hard to hold grudges against Pandora, Mary was learning.

“Someone keeps removing me when I suggest it.”

Dorcas nodded, icy. “McKinnon-“

Marlene abruptly stood up. “I think it’s time to do some shots.”

“I could use a drink,” lied Mary: she just needed an excuse, and at least with a drink in hand she would have something tangible to focus on. Anything to dissipate the tension.

“Me too!” added Lily, jumping off the sofa. “I’m coming with you.”

Mary and Lily watched from a safe distance an angry Marlene stomping into the kitchen, grabbing a bottle of liquor Mary didn’t recognise and taking sips directly from the bottle. After five gulps, Lily decided to intervene, taking the bottle from Marlene’s hands.

“Marls, you don’t want to throw up in Effie’s kitchen.”

“But what if I did?” Marlene replied folding over the sink, but then she lifted her head.

“Never mind, I’m fine. Make your drinks and pass the bottle, I’m going for round two.”

“Round six,” Lily muttered, picking two plastic cups and some bottles. “What do you want?”

“Oh,” Mary replied, “I’ll make mine myself. I don’t really like alcohol.”

Actually, during the past months Mary had opened up to alcohol: she didn’t drink much, she had never liked to get blacked out drunk, not even before…that, but at least a glass of wine or a drink didn’t scare her anymore.

Still, she preferred to mix her own drinks, just to be sure she knew what was in them.

“…They’re not always like that, you know. They have this feud going on, but it’ll have to end, sooner or later,” Lily whispered to Mary, pouring some vodka in her own cup. “Actually, you handled those two way better than I expected.”

“It was hard,” Mary murmured, “But also somewhat entertaining? They either ignore each other or bicker.”

Lily looked at her from the corner of her eye.

“How long until they admit their feelings?”

“Please, Dorcas would do it in a heartbeat.”

“Probably,” Lily chuckled. “Could you pass me the Diet Coke, please? It’s in the fridge.”

When Mary couldn’t tell where the refrigerator was, Lily pointed it to her with ease.

“You seem pretty at home here,” commented Mary, passing the can. She noticed a bottle of apple juice, and decided to fill a cup for Narcissa.

“I used to come here all the time when I was dating James, it really became a sort of second home for me,” smiled Lily.

“Oh, so you two did date,” said Mary, picking two straws from a container on the counter.

“Well, yes,” Lily replied, sounding shy. She looked like she wanted to add something, but stopped herself.

“I’m taking that,” intervened Marlene, grabbing the vodka bottle, left unsupervised. “And I’ll look for Alice. Still haven’t seen her,” she muttered (more to herself than to Mary and Lily), and went deeper into the kitchen, saluting the five men who were drinking shots on the table before disappearing.

“I wonder why she acts like that around Dorcas,” commented Mary, “She seemed pretty nice.”

“Dorcas is amazing,” replied Lily, “But Marlene is mad at her for something that happened a long time ago. I love her, but she’s being childish, and I’ve told her a million times, but she won’t listen.”

Her tone became more and more reprimanding as she spoke, and she ended up sipping her drink like an angry middle-aged mother.

It was kind of adorable.

Mary smiled, understanding, “She’ll figure it out, eventually.”

Lily shrugged, then hopped on the counter. She was staring directly at the cupboard in front of her, seeming lost in thought. Mary hadn’t seen Lily so serious the whole time she had spent with her, which admittedly wasn’t much, but still, this change felt new.

“I was worried, you know,” began Lily, “I thought you would refuse my offer.”

Mary frowned. Lily was talented, famous, and from what she had gathered, she was also friendly and fun. Why would she refuse to work with her? If anything, Mary should’ve been worried: but she was the inexperienced one, here.

Lily saw the confused look on her face, and gave her a small, incredulous grin.

“Do you really not know? Narcissa didn’t say anything about me?”

“Woah, Evans, don’t sound so shocked,” joked Mary.

Lily nudged her.

“I’m just saying,” she replied, smiling shyly at the drink in her hands. Mary felt the need to break the silence.

“They have sent me links about…everything that’s happened, but I didn’t open them.”

Lily’s head perked up, curious. “Why?”

“I have learnt a few things in these months. Mind you, I was never one to obsess over celebrities,” clarified Mary, “But I used to keep up with the drama surrounding the Black family, because, you know…” She rolled her eyes, ashamed. “I really liked Narcissa, so…”

“Aww, you were a fangirl!” mocked Lily, pouting condescendingly.

Mary felt her cheeks heat up.

“I stopped the instant she threw Bunny at me for the first time!” she exclaimed, making Lily laugh loudly.

“Who is Bunny?” she asked, wheezing.

“It’s a long story. Anyway, once I started getting to know her, I realised half of the things they said about her online and in magazines was false, so I stopped reading them. Sorry if I don’t know every little aspect of your life,” she concluded, closing her eyes petulantly.

“Don’t apologise,” said Lily, her voice sweet and empty of mocking.

“I like that about you.”

Mary opened her eyes, and found Lily staring at her fondly. She was dangling her legs off the edge of the counter.

“Are you not going to ask anything?”

A moment passed, and Mary was aware Lily was studying her. Her intentions, her sincerity.

“Anything you want tell me.”

“…The people you see here are the only ones I can count on,” Lily explained. “They didn’t turn their back on me when things got bad, and even now they don’t mind being seen around me-and they could mind,” she continued, noticing Mary’s crossed expression.

“Because people who are seen with me are inevitably dragged by the media. Even you,” she bumped Mary’s side with her knee, “Are not safe.“

“I’m so scared. Wow.” Mary deadpanned.

Lily smiled, but not enough to show her dimples.

“I won’t tell you much because this is a party and I’m supposed to get absolutely sloshed, not depressed. I became popular as a singer when I was sixteen. I was young, and naive, and I wore my heart on my sleeve: I didn’t have the maturity to separate private matters from my public image. I was young and stupid, the boys were young and stupid, and stupid sixteen year olds get into stupid relationships. When I inevitably broke up with my boyfriends, I had the instinct to write about it. So, I became famous because of my failed relationships.”

“Many singers write love songs,” replied Mary.

“Not many singers are sixteen year old girls,” countered Lily with a sad smile.

“But I learnt my lesson, and I grew up to become a little less stupid. At eighteen I started focusing more on my work, and when during interviews they would only ask about my love stories, I tried to divert the attention. I was still a kid, but I was more reserved about my relationships. Still, paparazzi were onto me, photographing me every time I stepped out of my house, so everything was still made public.”

“That’s terrible, Lily.”

“I got used to it.”

The party outside the kitchen had gotten louder and more chaotic: Mary thought she could hear James and Sirius singing. Well, at least they had left the sofa.

“Whatever,” continued Lily, shaking her head. “Last year I had a fight with…an acquaintance of mine. A famous acquaintance. He liked me, he wasn’t reciprocated, and of course the media found out and started bashing me when I rejected him. Things quickly escalated, and now I’m a fucking pariah. Not for long, though.”

She jumped off the counter and offered Mary her arm. “Come one, let’s see what’s going on over there,” Lily suggested.

Mary wanted to say something, anything, to comfort Lily, but all words seemed to have left her mind.

“Thank you for telling me, Lily,” she managed, “If you ever need anything, I’m here.”

Mary wasn’t sure about what she could give to Lily that she didn’t already have, but the woman’s smile was grateful, regardless. Maybe Lily was one of those who believed that ‘it’s the thought that counts’.

Mary was pretty much the opposite, and because of that she hated that she couldn’t do anything real to help Lily.

They walked back into the living room, arm in arm.

[musicliover]

some random marauders’ headcanons

• lily's whole body was covered in freckles. all her childhood she had a complex about this, until at the age of 11 she met marlene, who sighed admiringly every time she stared at lily

• lily obsessed with audrey hepburn

• james was the only guy who didn't bring a bouquet of lilies on his first date with lily

• lily is flirty person

• sirius got the nickname pads / padfoot in the third year, when he found pads in marlene's bag, and from ignorance of what they were needed for, he attached them to the sole of the shoe, marls herself laughed at him the most

• the first person to find out about the remus’ lycanthropy was lily

• james' favorite marauder has always been remus [he never told sirius or remus about it]

• peter is not an outcast among the marauders. in addition, he was the first person sirius and remus decided to tell about their relationship

• james cried all night when he found out about the murder of john lennon

• after andromeda ran away from home, narcissa wrote letters to her every night, but did not send them. on the day before her wedding, she burned more than a hundred envelopes

• lily found the figure of an older sister in alice fortescue

• james sometimes jokingly calls lily a granny. and what if she was only a few months older than him?

• hope taught remus to play the guitar

• regulus has always envied sirius in terms of friends. he himself had never had anyone closer than an older brother

• lily loves quidditch and helpes james develop strategies for matches when he became captain. he dedicates all gryffindor’s victories to her

• marls had long hair, but one day a muggle bubble gum got tangled in it and she had to cut off almost the entire length. she never returned to long hair

• peter hates eggs, and he eats either breakfast cereal or porridge

• mary is the queen of baking. in her second year, she spent a lot of time in the kitchen with elves, trying to learn how to cook wizards' signature desserts from them [she was muggleborn]

• marls has a mild form of vitiligo

• euphemia called lily her daughter. they were very close

• sirius' first leather jacket was a gift from remus for his fourteenth birthday. remus had been saving up for her for several years

[saintchaser]

it had all started as a complicated, complicated thing of some sorts.

at least, that was what it was to narcissa. hiding in empty classrooms and warm lips pressed against hers, calloused hands in hers. never the same time they met, but when they did, it felt like it was just the two of them in the whole, entire universe, and time was a mere, irrelevant concept.

the thing was, alice was infinite. she was beautiful, and loud, and unapologetically herself. she was kind, and considerate, and had the most selfless soul narcissa had ever come across, living in a world if selfishness and lies.

she had warm hands and beautiful brown eyes and a wicked smile and a voice, thick and rich like honey, that always charmed narcissa. alice presses her lips to her neck, and she is completely lost, in a world that was not theirs to live.

what a coincidence they had met during the same lifetime. and what a shame, too, because they lived in different worlds; narcissa’s future was not by alice’s side, and she wasn’t quite sure if she had made peace with it (or if she would ever be able to).

alice was going to be a summer thing, a secret, adolescent romance of some sorts, (and, deep down, narcissa thought that alice knew that, too), because they were not bound to last, because their lives were not meant to be the other’s.

however, how was she supposed to love someone else again, when alice had been the one who charmed her heart, full of love and serene laughter?

[lifeandlies-of-regulusblack]

u saying ur good with any regulus ship is enough for me to present: Regulus/Rabastan (they are the product of a week's worth of academic testing on my end)

But, keeping this short, Rabastan doesn't like the Blacks very much, he thinks of them as crazy just overall terrible people. So when he sees a young Regulus Black, he immediately feels that he can separate Regulus from the shit mess of the Blacks (terrible idea really) Anyways, he ends up with a strange obsession of wanting to personally dissect Regulus’ brain that leads to him growing “soft” on the younger. 

(Growing soft: he gives Regulus gifts to see his reactions, gifts end up more and more personal)

Regulus, on the other hand, thinks Rabastan is a little shit and it endears him to see the less-liked, sleazy Lestrange twin. It's like having a soft spot for things that are either messier or dirtier compared to something new and clean. It's almost like that for Regulus.

They also have a soldier-off-at-war-and-his-loving-wife-waiting-for-his-return thing going on during the first wizarding war where Regulus just stares at a clock unmoving when Rabastan is out doing DE things.

okay thats thank u for ur time

oh nonnieeeee this is the perfect dark!ship for regulus. hehehe just the age gap alone. bella who ends up marrying a lestrange is a whole 10 years older than our dear little reggie. yummy <3 so rabastan will probably be the same age as bellatrix or older.

idk if we're on the same page about this, but there's no way this is going to be a fluffy or foundationally sane ship. they're going to be fluffy with all the twisted implications of being together as the backdrop for whatever they do. like the fact that rabastan will have probably met regulus a teeny weeny boi, clutching at sirius, who is only marginally older than his brother. hehe.

the grooming, the suspicion from narcissa and sirius. the two, who don't always get along, manage to remain mostly civil as they try to make sure that regulus is never left alone for too long. because they see the way the older man looks at regulus for too long, cards his fingers through his hair like a wolf trying to play with its prey.

WE'RE TALKING ABOUT RABASTAN BABE. literally him, his brother, and bellatrix are three of the most loyal DEs of voldemort. he fully participated in frank and alice's torture. THIS IS A DARK SHIP. this is.... ya'll try to make the tamest ships (nd tropes) look bad but this is dark DARK. and i fucking love it.

hihihihihiiihih <3 okay i'm gonna stop here. i think i want to write more about them. because regulus is going to be a right little shit in this ship.

i'm sorry if this isn't what u had in mind but literally the lestranges are insane :// but thank you for sending these two my way!!

this has the makings of a good brainrot. i can make them so fucked up. i can make them so perfect.

[maryoliverdotcom]

alice remembered narcissa calling her "sunshine" since third year. firstly, it had been an insult. voice laced with venom, eyes glaring daggers at her. sunshine didn't know what to do. sunshine always said the wrong thing at the wrong time. sunshine only knew how to stare.

by fifth year, it had taken a bit of a positive connotation. you’re actually a nice person, sunshine. no, i won’t let you copy my essay, fuck off.

seventh year. you’re the summer sun, alice. i’m scared i’ll burn you if you get too close. no, alice. you’re my summer sun.

being icarus would be a tad bit poetic, wouldn’t it, narcissa? since when did you care much about poetry? since i met you, i think. 

i think i love you, narcissa. you think? no, i know. ah, my sweet summer sun—that’s the worst mistake you’ve ever made. a mistake, perhaps. but the only one worth making.

a laugh escaped alice’s lips. nothing made sense anymore—but for that pale face staring at her through what felt like a fever dream. she was saying something. alice grinned. she was seventeen again, lying with narcissa under the stars. nothing mattered anymore.

she was saying something.

my sweet summer sun. my sunshine. look at me, please. hold on, i’m coming. please.

alice merely smiled. there was blood on her hair on her lips on her skin on her hands on her lungs on her heart and the eternal, summer smile on her bloodstained lips. her hand reached up to cup narcissa’s face. 

she was saying something.

my summer sun.

my summer sun.

my summer sun.

my— 

.

.

.

@bugboyremus

[fvckyouimaprophet]

(give me) the first taste

summary: After having to deal with the PTA, Lily goes home and decides to unwind and smoke, only to be interrupted by the PTA president herself, Narcissa Malfoy. length: 4,376 tags: Making Out, Confessions, Shotgunning, Mild Sexual Content, Infidelity (on Narcissa's behalf), Implied/Referenced Character Death (James), Set in the US, Queer Suburban Ennui a/n: Created for @420maraudersfest and dedicated to @broomsticks.

Read on Archive of Our Own.

“I’d like to remind everyone—no boxed goods at the bake sale. Homemade only.” Narcissa stares down at Lily’s brownies with a scrunched nose and pushes them away with the back of her pen.

All eyes are on her. She should have expected it by now, Lily supposes. The last thing she’d wanted was to deal with the PTA, but she’d had little choice in the matter since Harry volunteered her for the bake sale, not that she could blame him for trying to be helpful. The excuse of her job didn’t even hold up since the university was off for spring break. “The kids can’t tell the difference between Valrhona and Betty Crocker,” Lily grumbles and pushes the dish back toward Narcissa.

Lily only needs to hear the scoff to recognize who’s behind her. “Speak for yourself. Daphne and Astoria both have sophisticated palates.”

Lily sets her jaw and turns to face Alethea. “Oh, please, they’re what—nine and seven? How sophisticated can they be?” There’s little use arguing and she knows it, and yet, the words spill out of her mouth before she can stop them. Alethea simply rolls her eyes.

There are plenty of mothers she gets along with. Not all of them are WASPs with country club memberships that cost more than Lily spends a year on groceries. Even among the PTA, not all follow Narcissa Malfoy blindly. Molly, the mother of Harry’s closest friend, frequently lists her grievances with the Particularly Terrible Adults—as she calls them—over coffee. And Alice is too kind to pass judgment on anyone. But unfortunately for her, neither of them volunteered for the bake sale.

“It’s a matter of allergies,” someone to her right says. “You can’t trust the ingredients on baking mixes. They could be contaminated.”

If she didn’t know it was an ill-disguised attempt to put her down, Lily would be willing to hear it out and follow its logic, but she’s not about to waste any more energy or time arguing over boxed brownies. She bites the inside of her cheek as she tries to remind herself that she should conserve her energy for the papers she has to grade once she gets home.

“Fine.” Her skin crawls as she reaches down and picks the dish up off the table. “You win.” The words taste bitter in her mouth, and she can feel her tongue itching to take it back and replace it with something biting. Before she loses what little self restraint she has, Lily turns on her heel and walks out the door.

Petty suburban politics have never been her scene. They’d only moved here so Harry could go to a better school. Lily had been skeptical, resistant even to the idea that Harry would grow up surrounded by privileged children with backwards values, but James had insisted. He had, after all, grown up going to such schools himself. That almost counted as a strike against James’s point, Lily thought, considering James was a pompous ass when they met their first year in college, but she trusted that they could figure it out. As long as they raised Harry right, it wouldn’t be a problem—James had promised her. The way he cared for Harry, like he mattered more than anything else in the world, she believed him.

But James just had to die and leave it all in her hands, and since he was dead, she couldn’t even be mad at him for it.

Lily isn’t in much of a mood to grade papers by the time she gets home. The dish hits the counter too hard, and the noise of the glass against the marble rings in her ears. With pressure building in her temples, she presses the palms of her hands against her eyes. She’s certain that she’s written research papers for work less stressful than this.

“Fuck it.”

Lily glances at her watch. She has several hours to herself. The papers can wait until later when Harry’s asleep. She’s too restless now to concentrate; it’d take her twice as long.

So she makes her way to the kitchen instead and pulls a chair over to the cabinets. Even when she stands on it, she has to stretch to reach the top shelf, but after a moment of feeling around, her fingers close around the small mason jar and the small, plastic bag beside it.

There’s hardly more than a dime of weed in the jar, but it’ll do. If it’s still any good, her mind supplies. It’s been nearly a year since she smoked, not since last summer when Sirius and Remus had offered to take Harry for a week and give Lily some time to herself.

Unsurprisingly, it’s dry, but it works to her advantage when she grinds it between her fingers and it falls apart easily. Perhaps she should be more precise in pulling out the stems, but she doesn’t have the patience. Instead, she takes the glass, multi-colored pipe and the lighter out of the bag. The second she opens it, she’s hit with the stale smell of smoke.

“Lysol,” she mutters under her breath, hoping that the act of saying it aloud will help her mind remember to get it later before Harry comes home. She makes quick work packing the bowl. The lighter clicks, and she breathes in deep. When she breathes out, she closes her eyes, and her shoulders drop.

The relief, however, is short-lived.

The sound of the doorbell makes her jump, and Lily grits her teeth. As far as she can remember, she’s not waiting on anything or anyone, which means whoever it is can’t be too important. But they won’t give up easily. They ring the doorbell again, once, twice, and then lean on it.

The shrill buzz is too much to take, and Lily sets down the pipe and marches over toward the front door, frustration coiling in her stomach, and opens it.

Narcissa Malfoy stares back at her, lips pressed together in a thin line.

“What do you want, Narcissa?” Lily asks.

“You forgot your wallet on the table.” Narcissa draws a woven, brown wallet from her purse and thrusts it forward. “I tried to catch you before you left, but you practically fl—” She cuts off, and the corner of her lips curl upward. “Were we that stressful that you had to run home and smoke?”

Fuck. The smell must be sticking to her. It’s the sort of mistake she’s too old to make. If she’d been thinking more clearly, Lily knows she wouldn’t have answered the door like this. The last thing she needs is Narcissa running to the other mothers to tell them about it—as if their list of judgments couldn’t already fill a book. But she’s learned not to let her fears show in front of others, so Lily keeps her face neutral as she says, “What I do in my home doesn’t concern you.”

But Narcissa seems unfazed. “If it weren’t for me, your wallet would be stuck at the school’s lost and found. The least you could do is invite me in for a coffee.” 

It’s not the reaction Lily expects. Normally, she’d assume it’s some kind of trick, but if it is, Narcissa is doing a wonderful job at hiding it. While she looks amused as she scans Lily up and down and takes her in, there’s no malice to her expression. And strangely, Lily’s instincts don’t pick up on any either, and they’ve rarely led her astray. As much as she hates to admit it, it’s not an unreasonable request. Still, the prospect of Narcissa in her house doesn’t exactly thrill her.

Lily sighs, opens the door the rest of the way, and motions for Narcissa to step in. “Please, won’t you stay for a coffee?” Her voice comes out in a dull monotone.

“How kind of you to offer,” Narcissa says chipperly as she steps in.

Lily’s eyes dart from one mess to another, acutely aware of them as she walks Narcissa to the kitchen. Stacks of bills and other letters crowd the entryway table, Harry’s toys are tossed about the living room floor, a two-day old basket of laundry sits ready for her to fold—all things she’d meant to clean and organize during her time off. She braces herself for a clever insult, but it doesn’t come.

“I prefer Turkish coffee if you have a cezve.” Narcissa perches herself on one of the tall chairs by the counter and eyes the pipe. The back of Lily’s neck prickles, and she resists the urge to try to hide it and erase that it was ever there. It’s pointless.

“Actually, I do,” Lily says. “James’s mother used to make Turkish coffee for me. She gave me her cezve before she passed.” She’s not quite sure why she shares such an intimate detail. The overwhelming sense of loss threatens to swallow her whole, terrible and bottomless, and her eyes prickle as the lump grows in her throat. Lily turns her back toward Narcissa and bends down to search through the cabinets, grateful that she has an excuse to look away.

“It sounds like she was a good host.”

Although Narcissa isn’t wrong, there are dozens of compliments about Euphemia that come to mind before a good host, but Lily finds herself taking the path of least resistance and agreeing instead. “She was.” Her chest feels tight, and a knot forms in the pit of her stomach as she pictures Euphemia beaming at her.

The sound of pots and pans clanging saves her from having to come up with small talk, but after a few minutes, she finds the small, copper pot. Lily swallows, and the lump in her throat loosens just barely, along with the knot in her stomach. 

“I was beginning to doubt you had it. I’ll take a spoon of sugar, by the way.” Narcissa tilts her head slightly to the side, and she gives Lily a curious look, though she says nothing else.

Eager to change the subject, Lily asks, “I thought you were staying for the bake sale?” Even though it’s been more than four years since she’s made coffee this way, the muscle memory kicks in.

“Let’s just say that I was grateful you left your wallet behind and gave me an excuse to leave. I was certain to get a migraine being around that many children with sugar in their systems.” Narcissa’s tone is so matter-of-fact, and the honesty catches Lily off-guard. Her brow furrows, but when she glances over at Narcissa, her face gives nothing away.

Yet her gaze is still fixed on the pipe. “If it offends you so much, I can put it away,” Lily snaps and reaches for it.

“Before we had Draco, Lucius and I would occasionally partake.”

Slowly, Lily removes her hand and frowns. Although she steps back toward the stove, curiosity crawls under her skin like a persistent itch until she can no longer hold herself back. “Why are you telling me all of this?”

“You think you’re better than us.”

Heat crawls up Lily’s neck, and she clenches her jaw. “That’s not true.”

“Oh, please. You don’t do much to hide it. We all know it’s because you have a job, and most of the PTA are stay-at-home moms.” Narcisa folds her hands on the counter and shakes her head disapprovingly.

“That’s not why!” When Narcissa smirks, Lily curses under her breath and tries to correct herself. “Not what I meant. I don’t think I’m better than you. If anything, it’s you lot who think you’re better than me.” She pulls the boiling coffee off the heat and scrapes the foam off the top into two cups she’s prepared before setting it back on the stove.

“Oh, I never denied that.” Narcissa chuckles. Perhaps it’s the slight high from her one hit earlier or the absurdity of the situation, but something bubbles up in Lily as well. Her throat tickles, and her hand begins to shake. As she turns off the heat, laughter spills out of her in earnest. Once she starts, it’s impossible to stop, and she lifts her hand to cover her mouth. And when she looks at Narcissa, her perfect, poised demeanor breaks as she begins to follow suit.

It takes them a minute to settle—Lily more so than Narcissa. Her stomach slightly aches as she pours the coffee between their cups and slides Narcissa’s over across the counter. “Money doesn’t make you better than anyone.”

“It’s not the money. It’s class, a certain level of— Well, it’s difficult to put into words, but you know it when you see it.”

“Still elitism,” Lily says. “Miserable, gross elitism.” 

Narcissa shrugs, brushing it off. “So be it, if that’s what you want to call it.” Despite the fact that her drink must be scalding hot, she lifts it to her lips and takes a sip. “You did a good job with the coffee.”

“Should I be expecting my tip in cash, or… ?”

Narcissa quirks an eyebrow and takes another sip. “Georgiana was genuine with what she said about the allergies.” Ah, Zacharias’s mom—Lily should have known.

“Was she?”

“Maybe not entirely, but she could have been.” The way she sits straighter and smoothes her hair, the amusement with herself seeps through. Somehow, Lily doesn’t entirely despise it.

Acting on an impulse she asks, “Did you want to smoke with me?” The question seems ridiculous even to her own ears, in no small part because of who her present company is.

But Narcissa’s answer catches her more off-guard than her own suggestion. “I thought you’d never ask.” 

Lily blinks slowly and tries to disguise her surprise. “Did you want to go to the living room?”

“Let’s.” Narcissa stands. “I usually stick to wine,” she admits, her voice betraying a slight thrill.

“I’m not surprised. You strike me as someone who’s been gifted one of those corny glasses that say things like wine about it or don’t talk to me until I’ve had a bottle or mom fuel.”

Judging by the look on Narcissa’s face, she guessed correctly. “Alethea,” is all she says.

They make their way over and sit on the couch, Lily’s knees pointed toward Narcissa, and Narcissa’s knees facing forward, her torso turned toward Lily. “You can use the magazine as a coaster. I need to toss it anyway,” Lily says, and Narcissa wrinkles her nose.

“I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised considering…” Narcissa gestures across the floor to all of Harry’s toys.

She should have known better than to think that she could get away without Narcissa commenting on the clutter. Lily doesn’t doubt she’s spotted every small imperfection, mess, or spot of dust. “Normally, he’s better at cleaning up after himself. I don’t have the energy. James was always better at this part anyway. That man was born to be a father.” Something twists in her chest, sharp and uncomfortable, and Lily brings the pipe up to her lips and lights it. Three years, and her chest still hurts when she thinks about him. She breathes in and holds it.

“I’m sorry.”

Lily shakes her head. The last thing she wants is to talk about her grief with Narcissa. “Here you go,” she says instead and passes the pipe to her.

There’s something comical about watching Narcissa lift the pipe to her lips. It looks out of place in her hands, the bright colors of the glass stark against her pale, well-manicured fingers. “I had a job too before we had Draco,” she says, and lights it.

“What did you do?”

Slowly, Narcissa exhales, letting out only a small amount before she forms her mouth in an o-shape and produces a ring of smoke. “I was a ballet instructor. I’d wanted to be a dancer when I was younger, but I hurt myself one too many times, and—well—that was that.” 

“Did Lucius make you quit to take care of Draco?”

Narcissa snorts. “Don’t be so archaic. No, I decided to quit. I’d always wanted to be a mother. I didn’t think I could take proper care of him and work at the same time, no offense.” 

Despite Narcissa’s disclaimer, it’s hard not to feel as though the comment is pointed in some way. Lily lifts her chin and hums noncommittally. If there’s anything she’s learned from Harry about Draco, it’s that the boy is a bully. Still, there are lines she won’t cross, not if she wants to enjoy her high, so she sticks to safer subjects. “You must have smoked more than occasionally if you can blow rings like that.”

Thankfully, Narcissa takes the bait. “Lucius and I used to have fun together.” She quickly corrects herself, “In this way, I mean. We have fun in other ways now.” A distant sort of sadness lingers in her voice, and Lily can’t help but wonder if the first statement was more accurate. Used to—past tense.

“It’s not easy to find time with kids,” Lily echoes. “It’s been almost a year since I last smoked.”

“And I just happened to come over the one time you were? You don’t need to lie about it. I won’t tell anyone.”

“It’d be a stupid thing to lie about,” Lily says curtly. “And I don’t appreciate being called a liar in my own home.” She plucks the pipe from Narcissa’s hands and frowns.

“I suppose I just have good timing.” Narcissa’s eyes scan Lily up and down, and she smirks. “Lucky me.”

“I don’t have to share with you, you know.” Lily huffs. When she breathes out the smoke this time, the haze begins to envelop her, and she sinks into the couch. But looking at the pipe, she can see that the majority of the weed has turned to ash. The handles of the coffee spoons form small points at their ends, so she grabs hers and prods at the bowl to better expose the bits of bud that are still green.

“I mean it,” Narcissa says. “Lucky me.” She smiles, and her face relaxes into something softer. For the first time, Lily sees Narcissa as she truly is. No stiff posture or taut forehead or thin lips. It’s as if Narcissa has always been bracing for something bad to happen, carrying the tension of a tightly pulled string. Here, among the soft lighting, the slight wrinkles by her eyes and mouth visible, she looks more human than she ever has. 

“Do you want the last hit?”

“Let’s share it.” This time, she pulls slowly and holds the smoke in her mouth. Narcissa sets the pipe down on the corner table beside her and leans forward.

Even as she floats, Lily’s heart races, and she suddenly finds her palms sweaty. It’s been years since she’s done this—not since she and James were young—but it isn’t a precise art. She parts her lips and leans forward as well until their noses bump clumsily together. They hover, their faces less than an inch apart, and Narcissa reaches up. Working on a delay, Lily doesn’t have time to brace or wonder what it’s for before she feels Narcissa’s fingers against her cheek, her skin warm and smooth, and she pushes Lily’s hair behind her ear and out of the way. And then she breathes out.

The smoke lingers between them for a moment before Lily breathes in, pulling it into her lungs. She feels it pass in the air between them, and her mind races from the feel of Narcissa’s skin against hers to her growing light-headedness, and she pulls back, a small, disappointed noise leaving her lips as Narcissa’s hand drops to the couch.

The living room is quiet except for the birds chirping from the tree outside her window. For a second, Lily’s certain that Narcissa’s eyes are on her lips, but then they glaze over, and she swallows thickly. “It’s strong,” she mumbles, though her gaze stays unfocused.

“It is.”

“If it weren’t for Draco, I don’t think that Lucius and I would still be together.” Narcissa speaks in a dull, detached voice, as if narrating a dream. “Did you ever doubt your relationship with James?”

“Of course,” Lily says, ignoring the pang of guilt in her chest. “I think everyone has moments of doubt when things get stressful, but at the same time, I always knew and felt secure if that makes sense.” The words spill out in a jumbled mess. 

“None of the other wives would ever admit that. It’s all about appearances. Doesn’t matter if their husbands cheat or scream and throw things at walls.”

“Does Lucius—”

Narcissa shakes her head. “Nothing like that. But sometimes, when I look at him, I can’t help but wonder: Is this really it? Is this what the rest of my life looks like? It feels as though I must have made up how nice it was before, but I know that isn’t true. We did love each other when we met.” Just as the words settle, Narcissa blinks out of her stupor. Her face flushes pink, and she turns away from Lily as she lets out a forced chuckle. “I don’t know what I’m saying.”

Narcissa’s brow furrows and her eyes dart about as inches toward her side of the couch, putting distance between them. “You don’t need to be embarrassed.” Lily places her hand on top of Narcissa’s, and Narcissa stiffens, though she doesn’t pull it back. “If you want to talk…” Lily holds her breath and waits for the inevitable—for Narcissa to compose herself and announce that she has to leave or throw a cruel remark her way. But she doesn’t.

She takes a deep breath and looks up to meet Lily’s gaze. “The only time I don’t feel lonely is when I’m with Draco.” It strikes Lily that the look on Narcissa’s face is fear. She squeezes Narcissa’s hand.

“I feel the same with Harry. I shut everyone out after James died. They still try, but I almost wish they wouldn’t. And work is a welcome distraction, but when I’m with Harry, I genuinely feel something. Not quite happy but—”

“Like it’s the only thing tethering you to—not reality, exactly, but if it weren’t for him, you might have given up by now.”

Lily nods. And then Narcissa leans in once more.

Her eyes close just as Narcissa’s lips touch hers, and her breath catches in her throat. Her tongue traces against Narcissa’s lower lip, easing her mouth open. She tastes like smoke and coffee and smells like expensive perfume, and Lily’s head rushes. It’s been so long since she’s felt anyone this close to her—the warmth of another body, the feel of someone reacting to her touch. Under other circumstances, Lily might spiral with the realization that this is Narcissa Malfoy, but then Narcissa’s lips part, and she shifts her weight and places her other hand on Lily’s thigh.

The haze from the weed plucks the thoughts from her head, and Lily lets herself drift and focus on the sensations instead. The taste of Narcissa in her mouth and the weight of Narcissa’s hand on her leg, thumb pressed against the inside of her thigh, along the seam of her jeans. A low heat coils in the pit of her stomach, and she clenches her legs. She’s rewarded when a small, breathy whine escapes Narcissa’s lips, and she presses forward, deepening their kiss. Narcissa’s hand lifts from Lily’s knee to the back of her neck, weaving through her hair until her nails scrape lightly against Lily’s skin, just below her hairline, and Lily gasps, her eyes flying open.

Narcissa’s are still closed, and her brow furrows in concentration. From this distance, Lily can see how long Narcissa’s eyelashes are and the freckle below her right eye, barely peeking through her carefully applied concealer. Lily kisses the corner of her mouth and watches, enraptured, as Narcissa’s head tilts back and her tongue darts out, wetting her lower lip. She presses another to Narcissa’s jaw, and Narcissa’s cheeks flush pink.

It’s too much, too fast, and although her body aches for more—she wonders what Narcissa might do if she pressed a kiss to her neck—a nagging voice in her head tells her to slow down. So, Lily pulls back, chest rising and falling as she tries to catch her breath. Narcissa’s kiss lingers against her lips, a phantom touch, and Lily reaches up, brushing her fingers against them.

Her mind goes in too many directions for any of them to matter, and she floats, suspended in the moment until—

“I should go.” Narcissa’s eyes dart about as she tries her best to look anywhere but at Lily, and she smooths down her hair. Her lips are red and swollen, lipstick smudged around them and down to her jaw.

“Don’t.” She’s sure the same feeling will hit her as well in time, but for now, the thought of Narcissa leaving makes her whole chest hurt. “Stay.” As Narcissa begins to stand, Lily reaches out, taking her hand once more. “Please.” 

Narcissa finally meets her eyes and catches her pleading look. Although she does her best to hide the panic and the fear, Lily has seen too much to buy it and catches the way Narcissa’s jaw tightens and her shoulders tense. She nods curtly and sits back down. All the while, her hand stays in Lily’s.

“What have I done?” Her voice is smaller than Lily’s ever heard it, and she knows there’s no answer she can give Narcissa that will offer any comfort.

“If you want, we can pretend everything out there doesn’t exist until you’re ready to face it.” It’s not a promise she can keep. The desire to stay here forever is too strong. Once Narcissa leaves, everything will come undone.

“What do we do now?” Narcissa asks. Her hand trembles almost imperceptibly under Lily’s.

“I don’t know.” Lily swallows and slowly settles back into her body. “I’ll get the brownies. I know they’re not homemade, but I promise they’re good.”

Her joke falls flat, but Narcissa still smiles, perhaps to reassure herself. “Okay.”

[these-conquered-woodlands]

the wonderful women of hp as incorrect quotes

hermione: ...I'm pretty sure that place is fire-proof, or something. ginny, grenade in hand: Alright, but is it explosion-proof?

-

young minerva, pre-animagus: I wish I was a cat, but not in a furry way, more like a “I can sleep all day and hit people with no consequences” kinda way.

-

Hairdresser: How would you like your hair cut? lily: Preferably with scissors, but a sword would be awesome.

-

bellatrix: When life gives you lemons, what do you do? narcissa: Make lemonade- bellatrix: No, throw them back up in the sky and make life deal with it’s own shit. narcissa:

-

albus: Am I right, minerva? minerva: I’m almost certain you’re not, but to be fair, I don't bother listening to you anymore.

-

cho: War is ...heck.

-

madam pomfrey: *pulls out a rifle* Go to Bed. This is no longer a request, This is now a Threat.

-

bellatrix: If you don't stop this nonsense, I'm going to jump out of that window. andromeda: ...We're on the ground floor. bellatrix: I know but I want a dramatic exit.

-

hermione: I’m not being weird. Am I being weird? luna: Yes, and that’s coming from me.

-

tonks: I have met some of the most insufferable people. But they also met me.

-

madam pomfrey: Why Minerva, are you talking to yourself? minerva: Yes minerva: It’s the only way to have an intelligent conversation in this damn castle.

-

andromeda: .. .----. -- / … --- .-. .-. -.-- (translation: I'M SORRY) narcissa: What's that? andromeda: Remorse code. narcissa: I'm even angrier now.

-

hermione: Fruits that do not live up to their names; passionfruit, grapefruit, honeydew and dragonfruit. hermione: Fruits that do live up to their names? hermione: Orange.

-

cho: I hate when people ask me, 'What did you do today?' Buddy listen, I woke up at noon and then it was five p.m., okay? I don't KNOW!

-

alice, skipping rocks on a lake with lily: It’s such a beautiful evening. lily: (under her breath) Take that you fucking lake.

-

walburga, on sirius: My expectations were low but shiiiiiiiiiiiittttt.

-

alice: I scare people a lot because I walk very softly and they don't hear me enter rooms. So when they turn around, I'm just kind of there and their fear fuels me.

-

ginny: Why don't humans have a specific noise that means "there are bees here, let's leave immediately." How are elephants more advanced than us? hermione: We do have a specific noise for it. It sounds like this: "There are bees here, let's leave immediately."

-

minerva: Don’t weep for the stupid. You’ll be crying all day.

-

luna: Can I have 2 straws with that milkshake? cho: Aww- luna: With 2 straws, I can drink it double as fast!

-

bellatrix: Maybe the real monster was the friends we both literally and figuratively murdered along the way.

-

ginny: You’re charged with…..breaking into a pet store? luna: I thought the animals might be lonely.

-

molly, waking up her kids, slamming pots and pans together to the rhythm of "Give it to me, I'm worth it": I didn't get no sleep cause a' y'all! Y'all never gonna sleep cause a' me!

-

minerva: I’d like to live through a week that’s not a whole new verse of “We Didn’t Start the Fire.”

-

lavender: I like wearing oversized sweaters. Not just because they're extremely comfy and cuddly, but because whenever the sleeves are really big, I get to flop them around and smack people.

-

narcissa: I'm going to ask you to be respectful. andromeda: And I will respectfully decline.

-

cho: Bottling up negative emotions is bad for your health, so you shouldn't do it. cho: That's why I bottle up all my emotions, both positive and negative, so it cancels out.

-

lily, furious: What do you mean we have homework tonight? I have books to read.

-

mad-eye: Can we talk about that letter you sent to the group? tonks: Why? It was important. mad-eye: All it says is, "I'm back on my bullshit". tonks, shrugging: The people need to know.

-

andromeda: If I can't cause near ruin and disgrace for my family everyday just by existing, I think I'll collapse from the shame.

-

luna: I hate how you're just born out of nowhere, and you're forced to go to school and get education so you can get a job. What if I wanted to be a duck? No one ever asked me if I want to be a duck.

-

lily: I did it! I memorized everything in the book! I'm gonna ace this test! alice: Ok, , I'll give you one more question before you go. What ended in 1918? lily: 1917. alice: ...You're ready.

-

ginny, to draco: If you can ever manage to get over yourself, I would highly recommend being me.

-

madam pomfrey: Why are we so awesome? minerva: That's the best goddamn question anyone's ever asked.

[hpsaffics]

✨ WLW Wed: Rare Pairs ✨

A biweekly HP femslash rec list made by the lovely members of the HP SAFFICS (18+) discord server. See all previous rec lists in the WLW Library.

Currently: Rare Pairs Previously: Fleurmione (see list)

—

💫 LONG (>10k) 💫

Time is whit A' hauld between by @aibidil, @canttouchthis87, @artymakeart [Minerva McGonagall/Rowena Ravenclaw, E, 74.7k] WITH ART!

Minerva learns she must travel to the year 1008 to save Hogwarts's magic. And incidentally, the soulmark on her arm indicates she met her soulmate 991 years ago.

Longingly Named by @m0srael [Minerva McGonagall/Mrs Norris, E, 11.9k]

Can love really last a lifetime? Perhaps, if you can name it as your own. This is a story about names, transformations, and the things we inherit.

💫 MEDIUM (3k-10k) 💫

Trip the Darkness by @le-amewzing [Hestia Jones/Hestia Carrow, T, 9.9k]

As if it weren't bad enough to be fleeing a life of Dark magic, Hestia Carrow's got the Auror Hestia Jones on her tail, too. This cannot possibly end well.

Looking For A Complication by @the-wig-is-a-metaphor [Narcissa Black Malfoy/Ginny Weasley, M, 8.0k]

"Mother, when I said you should get out more," Draco shouts, "I did not mean you should have an illicit affair with a scandalously younger woman!"

One Foot on the Platform (and the Other on the Train) by @inmyownlittlecorner5 [Eileen Prince/Rita Skeeter, E, 7.8k]

Ah, romance, the ruin of many a poor boy.

A Cliff in July by Miss M (missm) [Millicent Bulstrode/Marietta Edgecombe, M, 5.0k]

A chance meeting at a remote Muggle hotel, the summer when everything changes.

i would kill for some company (temporarily) by @lesbiansiriusblack [Pandora Lovegood/Lily Evans Potter, M, 4.7k]

pandora's never seen something so pretty and not wondered just how long it would take for it to die, and just how good it would taste. or, vampire pandora & human lily, that's it that's the plot

Sunlight in the Garden by Lyras [Alice Longbottom/Pomona Sprout, T, 4.3k]

Pomona hasn't seen Neville since he was a baby, but the moment he steps into her greenhouse, the past begins chasing her down.

Beetle Dreams by @featherxquill [Luna Lovegood/Rita Skeeter, M, 4.1k]

In the summer after her seventh year, Luna is bereft and uncertain about her future.... One afternoon she finds a strange beetle there and takes it home with her, then at night she is visited by a dream woman in beetle-green satin.

Friends Forever by PurpleFluffyCat [Sybil Trelawney/Alecto Carrow, M, 3.1k]

Bad relationships don't necessarily start out that way.

💫 SHORT (<3k) 💫

The Thing with Feathers by kelly_chambliss [Augusta Longbottom/Andromeda Black Tonks, T, 2.4k]

After the Battle of Hogwarts, Augusta Longbottom has a duty to perform.

Pretty Little Thing by batsam [Rolanda Hooch/Septima Vector, T, 1.5k]

This morning, Septima is everywhere.

—

🌙 Want more Rare Pairs? 🌙

@hprarepairfest | AO3

@hp-rarepairs | AO3

WLW Library: Tumblr | Tag | AO3

[unwoundcorridors]

prompt #29: storm

pairing: narcissa/alice word count: 876

❈ written for @sapphicmicrofics ❈

—

Lightning lit up the pitch black gardens of the manor while thunder nearly shook the floor beneath her feet, rain pounding against the grounds outside. Narcissa didn’t move from the window, though, instead catching her countenance illuminated by the flashes of lightning every few seconds. Lucius was locked away in his private study, working on Ministry matters, and Draco was sleeping in his crib just across the hall from her, his room soundproofed to the storm raging outside.

Her mind drifted at the thought of her son, and her throat tightened at where it landed: another boy, only a month or so younger than her own, without his mother to tend to him. She still remembered the last time she and Alice had met, sequestered in a corner booth in a hole-in-the-wall establishment that lent itself to confidential gatherings. Even so, Narcissa had placed a glamour on her facial features so that everyone but Alice wouldn’t know who she was.

“Don’t tell me you don’t wish our sons could grow up together properly,” Alice had said, hooking one of her pinkie fingers around Narcissa’s on top of the table sitting between them. Alice’s hazel eyes plaintively pierced Narcissa, and she shut her own as Alice’s finger stroked her skin. When she opened them again, she worried her lip as traitorous images of Draco and Neville as playmates entered her mind.

Officially, she and Alice were on different sides of this conflict. Or rather, better put, war. Alice was a bloody Auror, or rather had been before taking an indefinite leave to give birth and tend to her newborn son. Meanwhile, Narcissa was bloody well married to a literal Death Eater. She shouldn’t even meet with Alice at all, yet letters scrambled with magic still passed between the Malfoy and Longbottom homes, and Narcissa had yet to toss any correspondence from Alice into a lit fireplace like she knew she should. Nor had she had the heart or willpower to turn down this particular invite to see Alice in person again.

In a different world, perhaps they could have raised their sons together. Yet would that have been enough to satiate the both of them? To stay married to their husbands and continue an illicit affair? Or at least illicit on Narcissa’s side, as Lucius knew not a thing of her continued interactions with an Order member. Alice had told her that Frank was all for “bringing another Black sister onto the right side of things,” even going so far as being accepting to the reality of an open marriage.

It was a fool’s dream, and Narcissa had finally tugged her pinkie away from Alice and told her as such.

“You and Frank may gallivant around in this fool’s dreamscape as much as you like, but I cannot join you.”

Alice’s face had fallen a little at the biting words, but she’d continued to hold Narcissa’s gaze, asking, “Cannot or will not?”

Unable to hide her grimace completely, Narcissa had turned her head away so quickly that she almost strained a muscle. Hard rain fell onto the cobblestone street outside of the establishment they’d met in, and after masking her emotions, she’d looked back at Alice with a made-up excuse for leaving. Alice, someone who had never even tried to hide her emotions—instead openly choosing to wear them on her sleeve like the almost Gryffindor-Hufflepuff hatstall she’d been—had caught Narcissa’s wrist as she stood from their table, the din of other muffled conversations around them transforming into a muted buzz as Alice got to her feet as well and pulled Narcissa to her, one hand grasping the back of Narcissa’s head, fingers entangled in locks of honeyed blonde.

It was a shock to her system, Alice’s lips on hers for the first time in months. For a moment, Narcissa almost forgot where they were, a whimper bleeding into Alice’s mouth, but as soon and her mind caught up to their surroundings, her fingers stiffened up, curled almost like claws, and she wrenched herself away. She couldn’t—they couldn’t—

“Please don’t,” was all she managed to say before she left. Ran out into the rain to disapparate, more like. Because that’s what she was good at. Running away.

Narcissa’s vision blurred as she stared out of the window of Malfoy Manor unblinkingly. Her fingers ghosted over her bottom lip, recalling the passion that Alice had poured into that last kiss. A tiny whimper, not unlike the one that she’d vocalised at that establishment months ago, escaped her, and she wondered if she’d ever cease to associate rain with fleeing from the only woman she had ever once seen a future with.

Gallivanting around in a fool’s dreamscape… Narcissa laughed, a hollow and forlorn sound. She had denied the truth of the matter for too long: she had, in fact, always been a fool when it came to Alice Longbottom, née Fawley. She would simply need to learn to completely shut it all away, because in this new world—a world in which the Potters’ son had recently vanquished the Dark Lord, a world in which Alice and Frank were tortured into insanity by a group of Death Eaters including her sister—such foolishness had no place.

[n0blefl0wer]

Listen I am nothing if not a sucker for the red string of fate. Especially with the Marauders. Like especially Jegulus and Nobleflower.

Like imagine Jegulus. James and regulus running into each other so often James’ first year. And James feeling a tug on the string whenever Walburga is being Walburga. And regulus finding James on the quidditch pitch whenever James goes there to escape. James finding regulus in the astronomy tower. When regulus is forced to get the dark mark, James feels a sharp pull, and it hurts him to no end. Then one day, James feels the string get cut. and he knows.

But with Nobleflower, it’s different. Because Alice was still alive. The string never got cut. But one day, bellatrix was on a mission, and narcissa was at home with Draco. And she felt the line grow impossible taught. Then it went slack. But it wasn’t cut. When the news reached her, she apparated to St. Mungos. But there was nothing she could do but sit by the bed of the love of her life. Then during the battle of Hogwarts, 16 years later, she saw Bella fall. And then the string came back to life. She felt more joy, more love than she had in years.

[mossfordays]

Let me be perfectly clear when I claim that Alice and Narcissa are the most adorable couple I will not back down

They met when they were both out late one night, Alice wanting a moment alone and Narcissa just escaping everyone and the pressure. They had sat and talked. Then the nights kept coming, and they kept meeting like that, just ended up being out late at the same time. They would talk, run around the castle, watch stars. They would talk about classes and their pasts and present, their regrets and joys. Alice became the only person Narcissa could actually be comfortable around. Narcissa becomes the only person Alice can tell anything to. For a very very long time they didn’t speak a word of these outings. The only people who knew either of them were sneaking out were some of Alice’s Gryffindor friends because she was not good at hiding it. Narcissa on the other hand, well seeing that her place in family and potentially her life were on the line, no one knew. Narcissa and Alice were also for sure not calling these dates. They were just little meetups. Yeah the thing is that once Mary followed Alice out one night, every person she told, who would have no chance of spilling the secret, agreed that they were definitely for sure dating.

[jamies-loverboy]

Narcissa Black was born a mistake. She was meant to be a boy, and become the perfect Black heir. Everyone anticipated the moment the Black name could live on. She betrayed her family with her feminity, and so her first breath was already a mistake.

When Narcissa met Alice for the first time, she felt perfect. Alice didn't see her Black blood, but instead saw something beautiful, something worthy of love. Narcissa believed her, and so falling in love couldn't seem like a mistake.

[colubrina]

I have feelings on the Black family (will I ever shut up about Bellatrix calling Sirius “my dear cousin” and taunting Harry with the reminder that she is the one with the biological connection to Sirius? No. Will I ever stop thinking about Snape toasting Bellatrix for killing Sirius and neither Narcissa nor Bellatrix are shown to toast him back? No. We got snippets, and those snippets paint a very interesting picture of what the Blacks’ relationships were like pre-Voldemort and even what it might have been like for Sirius and Bellatrix to be locked up in Azkaban together for 12 years) and Pygmalion very much helps to sate that. Narcissa saying she was raised to believe falling in love with a rich man was as easy as falling in love with a poor man, Drusilla saying a Black should never marry a werewolf, Sirius only getting disowned for his marriage to Remus and not anything else but still showing up to family gatherings without being kicked out, Regulus directly calling Remus “the cause of [Sirius’s] disgrace: these things are all tied together and inform us that the Black family has Remus permanently on their shit list for Sirius being disowned, he never would have been had he not met Remus. Sirius doesn’t even like Drusilla but the moment the Order keeps calling her “that Black girl” when her wedding to Neville is announced, Sirius is hollering that she has a name; he defends her and Neville not allowing Alice to meet Belladonna by pointing out that telling Drusilla she looked like a whore at her own wedding wasn’t exactly going to endear her to the couple. Sirius hands over the Weasley family without hesitation the moment he learns Dumbledore is planning to use the kids and Belladonna is going to Hogwarts; Molly trusted Sirius with the Fidelius secret and Sirius picked his family without thinking twice. All of this also fits nicely with my headcanon that the Black family is the wildest family in Britain and it sucked for people attending school with them, imagine talking shit about one of them and then the rest just appear outside your classroom and pull you aside for a “chat;” this is a regular occurrence because they are the epitome of “only I can be mean to my relatives.” I like to think that Narcissa, for all she is very much a proper pureblood wife, is also still talking to Sirius throughout the fic and we just don’t see it; Lucius makes a point to be in a different section of the Manor when Sirius visits because he gets that his wife loves her family and that Sirius may be on the opposite side but he’s trying to help his family (as Narcissa frostily informed him of Sirius trying to get Belladonna away from Hogwarts to protect her when Lucius tried to protest. Lucius, no fool and not interested in being murdered in his sleep, gave in to the inevitable and allows Sirius in his house) but Sirius gives him a migraine no potion can fix. Pygmalion, my beloved.

I love the Blacks because they are TERRIBLE but loyal to one another (at least in my head) in ways that are wildly dysfunctional but their version of love. And they might HATE each other, but God help anyone else who dares to agree that, yes, that other Black is worth hating. Because, oh hell no. That is not allowed.

[jupitersrising]

akjdnvadsjvn I've been posting so much in the last two days but BUT hear me out. I just posted a Darius/Brooklynn SotF fic yesterday(?) here and, and uh well I'm almost done with my Sammy SotF character study I've been working on since July!!! So yeah, it's been a productive week. Expect that to be coming out within the next week! I just have to finish up two sections but I think it's rounding out to be about 14k words! The playlist for that is here, I spent way, way too much time curating it. Anyways rant over.

I lied. Ok, Survival of the Fittest does have at least another month before I update it. I have to finish one chapter of a jwcc fic I have out. I have 4 chapters of a Nancy-centric Stranger Things fic to finish and another jargyle fic to finish which might take a while. I have a Drew Tanaka-centric PJO fic too.

(I also have some other fics I might put out before I start updating SotF again that have been sitting in my drafts for months which is why I released like two fics in a within four days this week)

One: A modern/no dinosaur Darius/Brooklynn/Ben coffee shop au with a twist or two with background Sammy/Yaz and lots of fluff.

Two: An angsty Darius/Ben future-fic with dinosaurs and lots of secrets (not as planned as my other fics). Where the kids haven't spoken for the last four or five years, I can't remember the exact number but are forced to work together when Mae gathers them on the island it all began on.

Three: An Alice Fortesque/Narcissa Black with queer platonic partner nonbinary Frank Longbottom fic taking place before and at the beginning of the war where they live in a cottage together before everything goes to shit.

Four: (Pt2? A continuation of the above?) During and post the first and second war, toxic murder wives Narcissa/Mrs. Zabini trying to balance the good, the bad, and their own beliefs of the war. With some murder along the way...definitely more...hot and heavy compared to my other fics

Five: A Mystery Incorporated Fic about how they all met and became friends and as they got older. Featuring chronically ill Shaggy and service-dog in training scooby doo, autistic Fred, and definitely not witchcraft. No siree, witches aren't real...right????

Not sure if all of those are gonna come out before I post SotF again, but they've been sitting in my drafts for a while and I figured I'd post about them in case anyone was interested :) (I'm really excited at the coffee shop au, that one is really far along and I love it. Did I mention bumpy was an emotional support stray cat that's desperately trying to get these idiots to realize they're in love with each other)

(Also sorry if there are any random 'u' in this, the u on my keyboard is acting weird and jumping into place I didn't type and where it should be)