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ramblings-of-a-mad-cat · 1 month

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I feel like it isn't talked about nearly enough that Harry freed Kreacher.

And I'm realizing that's because no one else, literally no one I've talked to in this fandom in the last seventeen years, interpreted the scene that way. But when I first read DH, I picked up on it immediately.

Because Harry unequivocally does free Kreacher when he gives him Regulus' locket, and I think that's so important. I get why you might disagree, because they never actually state in the dialogue that Kreacher is free. It's all subtext. You might also say that jewelry is different from clothing, but I don't think we have enough examples to rule it out. (Lucius was tricked into freeing Dobby with a sock that wasn't even his. Far as I'm concerned, if you can wear it, then it counts.)

Harry freed Dobby without hesitation, and why wouldn't he? The sweet little guy was miserable, trapped in servitude to the evil Malfoys. But Kreacher? He was the racist little bastard that betrayed Sirius, Sirius, to the Death Eaters, and had a hand in his death. Of course Harry hated him. Even in OOTP, the point is made that Kreacher cannot be freed, even if Sirius would love to be rid of him, because he simply knows too much information, and they need to keep him bound in service so that he can't pass it on.

In this, we see that Harry's status as an ally to the House Elves is conditional. He wasn't even raised in the magical world like Ron, there's no reason for him to see Elf Slavery as okay, but he just accepts it as part of the magical world because the elves are "happy" and writes off Hermione's campaign as one of her many obsessions. Ron didn't take it seriously, so neither did Harry. He was happy to free Dobby, but to him Dobby was a special case.

Then comes the tale of Regulus. Harry is told all about a Death Eater who had a change of heart for no other reason than because he loved Kreacher, and Voldemort tortured Kreacher, leaving him for dead. Harry cannot fathom it - after all, this is Kreacher. The monster who betrayed Sirius. But Sirius mistreated Kreacher at every turn, something that Harry laughed off because Kreacher was so unpleasant - but it doesn't change the fact that Sirius was literally Kreacher's master, and he regularly abused him. It's not like it's Kreacher's fault that Sirius was abused himself, or that Sirius had to return to Grimmauld Place.

Seeing Kreacher utterly break down was uncomfortable for Harry, because it forced him to confront an uncomfortable truth that conflicted with the worldview he'd set up for himself about the Elves - and about Sirius. Even twenty years later, Kreacher is still attempting to self-harm after failing to follow Regulus' orders, and it's safe to assume Regulus didn't tell him to do that.

At this point, Hermione breaks down too, and she asks them - Harry and Ron - to see what she sees. "Oh don't you see how sick it is, how they've got to obey?" And for the first time, Harry sees it. On a grand scale, he sees it. It's raw, it's awkward, it's painful to confront. But Harry comes to realize that Hermione is right. (As in most things.) Slavery is not okay, no matter the context. The House Elves should be free. Not just the nice ones like Dobby, but even the nasty ones like Kreacher. Because he sees Kreacher trying to "punish himself" just as Dobby has done many times...and I think it hits Harry that no one deserves that.

So he takes a chance. Because freeing Kreacher is still a risk. It gives him back his autonomy. He knows all kinds of information. He knows that Regulus stole the Locket, and that Harry is hunting for it too. If Kreacher were to turn around and backstab the Golden Trio, if Voldemort learned what he knew, everything would be lost. And Kreacher could do that. But Harry chooses to believe that he won't. And he recognizes that even that risk is no excuse to keep a slave.

Cause here's the thing. Even if jewelry "doesn't count" (highly debatable imo) that doesn't mean Harry would know that. So far as he knows, he's giving Kreacher something to wear, and he has personal experience with what that means to Elves. The entire scene reads like Kreacher is being freed. Call it a headcanon if you must but I have believed this for years.

Yes, Kreacher stayed in Grimmauld Place. Of course he did. He loves it there, that's his home. Where is he going to go? And yes, he continues to serve Harry after this and even calls him "Master." Because that's what he knows. I'm not saying Harry broke the conditioning. That kind of thing would take years. If she'd been allowed to, Winky would have carried on serving The Crouches after her dismissal. But the important thing is, Harry gave Kreacher the locket. Whatever enchantment it was that bound Kreacher in service to Harry would have broken when Harry gave him the locket.

I know everyone loves to mock the moment at the end when Harry's first thought after defeating Voldemort is whether or not his slave will bring him a sandwich, but, guys. It's a throwaway line about a sandwich. Harry isn't going to order Kreacher to do it. At most he's going to ask. Kreacher is old, and pretty set in his ways. Deprogramming might not even be possible for him at this point. But everything we see of their relationship following Regulus' tale shows Harry respecting Kreacher as a friend, not a slave. He gave Kreacher his autonomy back by freeing him, and, when Kreacher made the choice to stay, Harry treated him with kindness.

This is actually blowing my mind because for so many years I just took this as a given but I realized I'd never seen anyone else talking about it and it turns out I'm in the minority for interpreting it this way? It just seemed so straightforward to me...

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risetherivermoon · 7 months

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I WANNA HEAR YOUR CROUCH FAMILY THOUGHT GIB GIB FEED MOIII!!!

snail ur amazing, also yes i shall :)) im always happy to talk about them oh my godddd, some of this will be a mix of general thoughts and just convos me and Leo ( @lostforgottenspaces ) have had abt the crouch family, specifically for our fic SFTDWD (Sing For The Damage We've Done) be prepped for a long ass rant!!

anyways, i feel like people don't talk about their canonical story as much as they should because they're so interestingggg,

Snr being in the ministry and not w/ the deatheaters?? Barty getting involved with them through his time at hogwarts??? The trial flashback??? Bartys own trial??? Mrs. Crouch sacrificing herself for her son??? Snr openly hating his own son??? Snr locking Barty away for decades in his childhood home??? Barty killing Snr?? Barty going back to the deatheaters?? like helloooo????

the angst potential there is so good i wish people used it moreee,

in my mind i view their dynamic as; Snr meeting Bartys mom/Laura (I usually name her Laura so I'll probably just use that here) in Italy when they are young, probably around 18-19. Laura had been homeschooled as a witch there with her family, and she meets Snr and they actually have a very happy love story,

but as time goes on, Snr's drive for success within the ministry pulls the couple a part. Snr believes he knows Laura fully, and that she's an angel, which is not true! Laura is human person who makes mistakes, but Snr sees her as someone higher, so when she does makes mistakes he loses it. They have a child because of a societal expectations, Snr never wanted kids, he believes them having a child will only hold him back.

Barty is born, Snr doesn't pay him much mind, though he tries to get past his negative feelings to be a father to his son. He attempts to be a better father than his own father was to him, but as time goes on he starts to care less and less. I imagine something happens in the ministry, maybe he gets demoted, and he starts blaming Barty for those problems, as well as Laura too.

Barty attempts to get his fathers positive attention for most of his childhood, though he never gets it. His father uses curses on him, especially the imperius curse, to get him to leave Snr alone. Laura tries to get Snr to stop, because she loves Barty, but Snr won't.

Another thing I like to note is because of Snr's cruel treatment of his son, Barty is much closer with his mother. Though he, as well as Snr, start to see her in this perfect light, and is confused when she does something that is more siding with Snr than with Barty. I think it adds depth to the two of them, being similar like that, and it makes Laura quite the tragic character imo, so yk 🤭 i love tragedy

anywho, Barty isn't allowed to leave the house much as a child, his only way of refuge is books and studying, so thats what he does. He reads and takes notes, etc. This is one of the reasons why he decides to take on all of his OWLs when he's in Hogwarts.

id imagine Barty slowly gets involved with Deatheater stuff simply by association with his classmates, hearing them talk, being a part of things like that. He'll join the deatheaters with them, secretly.

when he turns 18 and graduates, he gets a job at the ministry per his fathers request, while still being in with the deatheaters. A year passes, and at only 19 he gets exposed during Karkaroff's trial, his father is shocked and so is his mother. During his own trial, (along with the Lestranges) he gets sentenced to Azkaban, both his mother and father are present.

his capture soon weakens Laura's health, and she becomes weak. She tells Snr her last request, which is to save her son from a life in Azkaban. Snr begrudgingly helps her with this, and she switches place with Barty. Barty resists at first, though his mother tells him everything will be okay, because his father will keep him safe. Laura doesn't know what Snr will do afterwards to keep Barty out of the Deatheaters and Voldemorts company.

Barty still remains a prisoner, although now one in his own home, his childhood home. He's barely 21 at the time, and he spends around a decade there. Snr mostly ignores him, only hearing of him from their house elf, Winky. She becomes Barty's caregiver, bringing him food and keeping him company. Barty would ask her for the current news, for books to keep him entertained, and simply just to be around. Though, Winky wasn't allowed to talk to him mostly, she would follow his requests, and would stay around sometimes.

Barty was the one to convince Winky to bring him to a quidditch match, she then convinced Snr, who begrudgingly accepted after being prodded quite a bit. Then...well yk most of the rest of the story, blah blah he escapes for a second, blah blah...yk the jist.

I also like to think that Barty talks to Moody while he's being held captive in the suitcase thingy. He doesn't have anyone else to talk to and he hasn't been out of captivity in a while, which is one of the reasons why people think Moody is acting so weird, as he's being freakishly antisocial and unaware of things. But Moody knows like a shit ton about Barty and his life, just because I think that would be fun lol,

Barty then kills his father finally in an act of revenge, something that had been replaying in his head for years...he'd been imagining that moment since forever. He finally kills the man who tormented him for his whole life, and he relishes in the fact of seeing that Snr is terrified of him now, bc finally Snr gets to feel the same way that he had made his son feel for Barty's entire life.

And then, Barty loses his soul from the dementors kiss, and he's all alone...yk i love that fact so much. Especially for those Slytherin Skittle fans, Barty dies last out of all of them, and he's all alone.

another thing id like to note is Barty's involvement with the deatheaters. I think that it was a mix of him being with the wrong crowd, as well as basically seeking them out. He's being abused and neglected by his father, and it causes him to act out more, and he finds these kids who are basically doing the same thing, so he joins them, and then follows them. He's just a child when he does, he's ignorant obviously, and i think that's what really gets to me about his character.

Barty is practically still a child when everything happens to him. He and a lot of the deatheater characters in the marauders era are just victims of being looped in as a child, if childhood ignorance and abuse. Even though the crouch family isn't involved in the deatheaters, Barty still seeks comfort in it because he can't find it anywhere else, which is just fkin heartbreakingggg,

i love this family so much, they're so goddamn interesting to me, i love barty angst and just his character in general, i would love to see more people explore it, and i will always continue to throw my bbg around like a ragdoll!!!

anyway, thank u for the ask!! i love talking about them, so i will actually die for anyone who asks me abt them,

#marauders #marauders era #harry potter #hp #dead gay wizards #barty crouch jr #bartemius crouch junior #barty crouch sr #bartemius crouch senior #mrs crouch #the crouch family #me rambling #me rambling like hell #winky the house elf

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overlord-of-fantasy · 14 days

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Dobby just wants to help

Dobby, trying to take the butterbeer away from Winky: Alcohol will not take Winky anywhere!

Winky: Nobody drinks it as a sort of thansportation.

#harry potter memes #incorrect harry potter quotes #harry potter #wizarding world #hogwarts #dobby #dobby the house elf #winky #winky the house elf

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that-theaven · 1 year

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My drawing of Barty Crouch Jr. Reveal un Goblet of Fire

#harry potter and the goblet of fire #barty crouch junior #barty crouch jr #winky #winky the house elf #mad eye moody #death eaters #albus dumbledore #hogwarts #elder wand #Harry Potter

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stabby-apologist · 1 year

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#hufflepuff #fat friar #hufflepuff common room #tickle the pear #hogwarts kitchens #dobby the house elf #winky the house elf #helga hufflepuff #hufflepuff aesthetic #✨🦡💛#hogwarts legacy #botanical gardens #nature #flora #fauna #owl post

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basiatlu · 9 months

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Drew some house elves to the page with post-Hogwarts Hermione. I really love them all. Kinda thought-provoking and charming. Sorry I couldn’t commit to Kreacher in solely a loincloth scrap

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nidamae-approvedhpfanfics · 15 days

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Fanfic: Harry Potter and the Manipulator of Destiny Ch 1, Harry Potter | FanFiction

To get the joke... Read this awesome story!

Post OotP. Harry finds that Dumbledore has been less than honest or helpful with him, takes control of his own life and finds the training he needs from others. HHr, NL, no slash. COMPLETE

Harry Potter, T, English, chapters: 39, words: 175k+, favs: 12k+, follows: 4k+, updated: Apr 14, 2006 published: Jan 26, 2006, Harry P., Hermione G.

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suugarbabe · 10 months

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Softer Side (Pt 2)

Pairing: Mattheo Riddle x Reader

Warning: smut adjacent? Lil fluff

The door to potions slammed open as Mattheo and his gang of friends filed in for class. His eyes met yours briefly before sitting at the table in front of you. “He truly is a right prick isn’t he,” the boy to your left whispered. “Who is?” You asked, not really paying attention to him. “Riddle and his band of miscreants,” the boy stated. You scoffed slightly, “Have you ever even spoken to Mattheo?” Your question puzzled him, “Do I need to?” You rolled your eyes, turning away from him for the rest of the lesson.

When you were finally let out you got up quickly, wanting to separate yourself from the ignorance of the boy next to you in class. You felt someone fall in step next to you. You turned to tell them off when you were met with a dimpled grin. “Hello, Princess,” Mattheo sweetly spoke. You couldn’t control the blush that creeped onto your cheeks, “Hello, Mattheo. To what do I owe this pleasure of your presence?”

“Darling if just my presence is giving you pleasure…” he trailed off, smirk plastered on his face. You rolled your eyes, pushing his shoulder. “What are you really doing walking with me Mattheo? Won’t being seen with a pathetic Ravenclaw ruin your bad boy reputation?” You teased. Instead of playfully jabbing back Mattheo’s face turned serious, “I don’t think you’re pathetic, Y/n.” He threw an arm over your shoulder, “I also was just going to tell you how sweet it is when you defend me.”

“I wa- I mean, I just don’t think people really know the real you,” you stammered. Mattheo quirked an eyebrow, “Oh? And you think you do?” His tone was playful. You hadn’t even noticed he had guided you toward the Slytherin common you as you walked together. “What are we doing here? We’re going to miss Herbology,” you voice was soft. Truly you didn’t care about any class if Mattheo wanted to spend time with you.

“I figured you could tell me what you think you know about me, we’ll be alone in here,” he turned back to the portrait. Password, the snakes hissed. “Pura sanguine.” You rolled your eyes as you followed him into the common room, “Pureblood? How original.” He smiled at you over his shoulder, “Would you expect anything less?”

He led you to the black leather couches. You wouldn’t tell anyone else, but you quite liked the aesthetic of the Slytherin common room. You could see yourself spending a lot of time down here. “Sit,” Mattheo patted the spot next to him. You sat almost too obediently, making a small chuckle leave Mattheo’s throat. You blushed, pulling one leg to your chest and resting your chin on your knee.

“Oh don’t get shy on me now, love. We’re all alone now. So tell me, what do you think you know about me.” He was facing you on the couch, his elbow leaning on the back as he rested his head against his fist. He had his famous shit eating grin, waiting for you to speak. You took a deep breath before starting, “I see you being a good person.” He raised his eyebrows, an amused look on his face before indicating with his hand for you to continue.

“I see you doing good things when you think no one is paying attention.”

“Oh, so you’re watching me, hmm?” You blushed at his words, “I don’t mean to, but after that first time I saw save that girl a few months ago I had to see if it was just a one off thing.” He grabbed one of your hands, tracing shapes in your palm, “And what did you discover, love?”

“That when no one’s looking, you essentially challenge every Slytherin stereotype. I’ve seen you volunteer your time in the library, clean up after your friends, I swear I even saw you laughing with a house elf last week.”

Mattheo smiled at this, “Winky is one funny lady, you should really get to know her if you get a chance.” You shook your head, smiling, “Well if you’re truly this kind and sweet person, why don’t you show it all of the time?” He sat up a little straighter, putting on a mocking tone, “Because it would ruin my bad boy reputation, right?”

“You are…so confusing sometimes,” you grabbed his hand that was holding yours before. “You allow people to have this idea of you, a terrible idea just because of your name, or your parents actions or who you associate yourself with. Why do you do that?”

He shrugged his shoulders, watching your fingers trace the scars on his knuckles, “Because I don’t care about what other people think, I know who I am. Other people’s opinions don’t bother me.” You nodded, “I wish I could live like that.”

“What, you can’t take people thinking you’re smart and beautiful?” Mattheo chuckled. You blushed at his words, “People don’t think that about me.” Mattheo leaned in close, his nose brushing against yours ever so slightly. His breath fanned over your lips as he responded, “Well they should.”

In a moment his lips were crashing against yours. Your hand found it’s way to brown locks, instantly pulling on his curls. He growled into the kiss, grabbing your hips and pulling you to straddle his lap. You rolled your hips down, feeling him grow hard beneath you. He grabbed your hips tighter, bucking his hips up to meet yours. A gasp escaped your lips as Mattheo’s lips trailed down your neck, nipping and sucking, sure to leave a mark or two. Mattheo pulled back, admiring his work.

“These are gonna look so pretty tomorrow,” he smirked, tracing the marks on your neck. Your cheeks burned red as your buried your face in his chest. His hands rested just above your bum, lightly tracing his fingers up and down your back. You felt his chest rumbled as he chuckled lightly, “You know you’re cute when you’re flustered.”

You sat up, pushing a curl off his forehead, “I’m glad you think so.” You sighed deeply, “I can’t believe the Mattheo Riddle just gave me a trail of hickies. What will people say?” You feigned a shock face, placing a hand on your cheek. He grabbed your wrist, placing a kiss on the inside of it, “Why don’t we go see, yeah?” He picked you up by your waist, helping you stand up, following suit himself. He grabbed your hand, smiling as he led you out of the common room.

#harry potter #golden era #mattheo riddle #mattheo riddle x reader #mattheoxreader #mattheo x y/n #mattheo riddle smut #mattheo x you #blaise zabini #draco malfoy #theodore nott

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in-my-feels-probably · 1 year

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Hey, could you do a reverse comfort for marauder era sirius black?

Could you maybe use my name? It's Ananya.

If not Y/N is fine too.

Something where, you're like a sister to James, and you practically live in their house because your parents are always travelling or something. You've been dating Sirius for a year, and you happen to be at James's house when Sirius shows up?

You're the only one who can get him to calm down and make him realize that he's worth the love he receives from the Potters, Remus and you?

And then he asks you to just stay with him for the night, and there's some cuddly fluff.

Home

Request: Something where, you're like a sister to James, and you practically live in their house because your parents are always travelling or something. You've been dating Sirius for a year, and you happen to be at James's house when Sirius shows up? You're the only one who can get him to calm down and make him realize that he's worth the love he receives from the Potters, Remus and you? And then he asks you to just stay with him for the night, and there's some cuddly fluff.

Hi! Pretty name, but I try my best to write neutrally, so I’m going to use Y/N for this if that’s alright. Thank you for the request, I really like this idea. I’m sorry I took so long to get to this, but I hope you enjoy it!

Also, I used the house elf Winky in this. I know she wasn’t the Potter house elf, but just pretend.

(Warnings: swearing, mentions of Walburga and Orion’s physical and verbal abuse, the Cruciatus Curse, angst, let me know if i missed anything)

—

You knocked on the door to the Potter mansion, taking a step back to look at the porch. Effie had potted new plants, and enchanted them to bloom a warm red, matching the paint on the front door.

You took a second to breathe in the air, swearing that it was fresher at the Potter residence. It smelled like home.

And it practically was.

You were here more than almost anywhere else. The only place you were at more than James’s house was Hogwarts. But it was summer, and your house was not the ideal place to be.

Luckily, Euphemia and Fleamont were happy to welcome you into their home. They had always wanted a daughter, and you filled the slot well enough.

Just as you went to knock again, James opened the door, feigning annoyance. “What do you want?”

“Hello to you, too,” you said, stepping through the threshold of the door. “Are your parents home?”

“Went to Diagon Alley. Mum said she needed to pick up a few things before the term starts,” he said, flopping on the couch.

James took a swig of his pumpkin juice, before setting it down on the coffee table, kicking his feet up. He held a hand out for you, pulling you down on the couch with him.

You leaned back, settling in, sighing in relief.

“This is my favorite couch. Seriously, I’m taking it when your parents start passing shit down to you. Consider it my heirloom.”

“Merlin, I swear they’d give you any of the heirlooms first over me. Make yourself comfortable, Your Highness. Want anything? Winky has been dying to smother someone in sweets, recently.”

“And you haven’t taken her up on that? No, let her be,” you said, relaxing and closing your eyes. “Are the boys coming this week? I owled Grimmauld Place yesterday, but nobody answered.”

“Moony is, yeah. Said he’d come by on Thursday. Sirius can’t, though. Walburga isn’t letting him leave the house.”

You scowled at the mention of her name, stealing James’s drink and taking a swig.

“Such a bitch,” you muttered.

James nodded, snatching his drink back from you. “A bitch, indeed.”

Walburga somehow managed to be the most vile woman you’d ever met, and that was saying something. You had seen your fair share of less than unpleasant women, but Walburga took the cake. You figured that out the second you met her. Which was once, accompanying Sirius to Diagon Alley at the beginning of fifth year.

She took one look at you, and you could tell she wanted to crush you under her heel, like vermin not worth a second glance. It was infuriating.

You routinely talked shit about her to Sirius, who was very amused by it, and welcomed any slander about his mother. His father wasn’t much better, just a slightly less vomit inducing version of her.

And now they had trapped Sirius in their home, content to lock him up and throw away the key.

“Did he even do anything? He was here the week after the term ended, wasn’t he?”

“Dad heard that he made some kind of fuss in front of guests. Apparently, his parents tried to match him up with Narcissa.”

You felt your stomach turn, eyes widening in shock. “His cousin, Narcissa? The one who I’ve never seen not glued to Malfoy’s side? Shit, I’m so glad I’m not a pureblood.”

“Yeah, well, they’ve started cracking down on him. Something about taking his position more seriously. Bollocks, if you ask me.”

“We’ve got our work cut out for us then, don’t we?” You mused, smirking at the thought.

James furrowed his brows in confusion. “What do you mean?”

“We’ve got until the start of term to figure out some way to break up the marriage pact. I vote for bullying Lucius until he musters up the guts to propose to Narcissa himself. Although, I’m sure she’s got a plan in motion already. She’s a clever one.”

“We’ll think of something,” he grinned, standing. “Want to throw the quaffle around?”

“Not even a little bit.”

James groaned, pouting. “Oh, come on. Think of all I’ve done for you. Can’t you do this for me?”

You snorted, shaking your head. “Done for me? What could you have possibly done for me that’s equivalent enough to making me sit through quidditch outside of school? You’re lucky I even show up to your games.”

“You show up for Sirius,” he deadpanned, smirking when you blushed. “Please? I’m letting you call dibs on the couch.”

You groaned, relenting. “Alright, fine. Only till your parents get back. I get the new broom, though.”

James cheered, rushing for the back door with you sulking behind him.

—

That Thursday, Remus showed up, as promised.

You were grateful for the added company, happy to speak to someone else for a change. James was a lot to handle for extended periods of time. You loved him, there was not doubting that, but it was draining sometimes.

“You have no idea how many times he’s made me throw the quaffle around. I miss intelligent conversation.”

“Hey!” James yelled, making Remus chuckle.

“I’ll throw the quaffle with you later, mate,” he said, setting his things in the guest room.

Winky suddenly popped up, glaring at Remus. You tried to hide your smile as she scolded him, but you couldn’t help it from breaking through.

“Be more like Miss Y/N,” she said, moving Remus’s bags to the closet. “She gives bags to Winky. Winky is the best at unpacking.”

“My bad. You can re-sort them, if you’d like,” Remus apologized, raising his hands in surrender. Winky eyes widened and she nodded with forgiveness, sorting his bags away before snapping her fingers, vanishing.

—

Remus stayed the night, planning to stay till Sunday afternoon. You didn’t quite know when you’d leave. James’s parents made it so easy to want to stay.

“Stay as long as you wish, darling,” Euphemia told you, a warm smile on her face.

Fleamont nodded. “All summer, if you want. We’ve got the room.”

You would’ve happily accepted the offer, and were probably still going to. But you couldn’t muster up a clear answer without feeling guilty, thinking of how miserable Sirius must be. The three of you had sent owls to his house the night before, wishing him well and telling him how much you missed him.

You had been sending letters all summer, never getting a response. You figured you’d never get one, but that morning, a single letter arrived from Grimmauld Place.

“You need to stop sending letters, you’ll only anger Mother further. She’s quite cross with Sirius.

He’s alright, for now. He isn’t allowed to send any owls, but he told me to tell you he’s fine, and that he’ll see you at school in the fall. Or Diagon Alley a week before the terms if he’s lucky.

I’ll send an owl if there’s an emergency. Don’t reply to this, Mother doesn’t know I sent it.”

Regulus Black

Scrawled at the bottom in slightly messier cursive, although still pretty, was another note in parenthesis.

(p.s. - Tell Y/N to stop worrying. I know she’s there. Take care of her, Prongs. I mean it. Moony, take care of Prongs. Y/N, you babysit them both until I get back.)

(p.s., again - Sorry, love. Tough luck.)

You smiled when you read the ending, but the smile quickly fell as you glossed over Regulus’s words again. It was confirmed. Sirius was up to his neck, swimming through bullshit.

And you didn’t know how to help him.

Euphemia made lunch for everyone, calling you to the kitchen. You tried to push the thought of Sirius in that house to the back of your mind, but it just wouldn’t budge.

You must have been staring into space, because you felt a hand on your shoulder.

“Y/N? You alright?”

It was James’s voice. You turned to see him giving you a concerned look, pausing from eating his food. Remus coaxed him back, giving you a small smile.

“Don’t worry about him, love. He’s gotten quite good at taking care of himself. Even dresses himself in the mornings,” Remus joked, but you didn’t laugh.

“He should have to take care of himself,” you grumbled, pushing your plate away. “He’s still a child.”

Effie reached her hand over your shoulder, pulling your plate back towards you. “Eat. It does nobody any good if you sit here sulking.”

“He’d be pissed if he knew I was letting you not eat because of him,” James agreed, giving you a look of empathy.

You sighed, reluctantly continuing to eat. Effie frowned, knowing you were still upset, and just eating to appease her. She sighed, running a comforting hand through your hair, pushing it out of your face.

“Tell you what. You finish that, and I’ll send a letter myself. Walburga won’t ignore me, as much as she would like to. We’ll make sure he’s alright, darling. And we’ll do something if he isn’t.”

You nodded, continuing to eat.

Remus cleared his throat, changing the subject. “Alright, what should we do today? I don’t think I can stomach another session of throwing the quaffle around, but I’m sure we’ll think of something.”

You grinned, and James pouted in his seat.

“Aww, don’t pout, James,” you said, tapping the space between his eyebrows with the tip of your finger. “You’re too pretty for premature wrinkles.”

—

You all managed to agree on something to do, and you hung out together into the evening, now all sitting on the floor by the fireplace. It was pouring rain outside, and the air had a slight chill to it.

Effie and Monty had gone upstairs, trying to get a little peace and quiet. To be fair, you were all being quite loud.

You laughed hard, quickly shaking your head. “Wait! Remember in fourth year, James stood up on the table and read that poem he found to Lily in front of the entire Great Hall?”

“And she hexed him. Your hair was blue for a week, mate,” Remus grinned, watching James flush red.

“I couldn’t figure out how to reverse it!” He said, before turning his gaze to you. “And who are you to talk? You were practically drooling over Sirius before he finally figured it out and asked you to Hogsmeade.”

“She still drools over Sirius,” Remus said into his cup, taking a swig.

You smacked Remus’s arm, glaring. “First of all, I’m the one who fixed your hair James, so be nice. Second…can you blame me? It’s Sirius.”

“He does sort of drool over you, too, to be fair,” James said, smirking as you turned away to hide the heat that had crept up your cheeks.

“Whatever,” you muttered. “At least I didn’t get hexed.”

“Hey—“

Before James could finish, there was a frantic knock at the front door. You all furrowed your brows, not expecting anyone to show up. You set down your cup, standing.

“I’ll get it.”

“Be careful!” James called over to you, tossing you your wand. “Take this.”

You nodded, but James didn’t sound too concerned. It was probably a friend of his parents. It was Friday night, after all, and his parents were very popular people. They could have just agreed to go out tonight, and forgotten to tell you. You shrugged, walking to the front door.

When you opened it, the last thing you expected to see was Sirius, soaked to the bone and shaking on the front porch.

You placed your wand on the little table by the front door, eyes wide in shock.

“Sirius?”

He hadn’t met your eyes yet, still shaking like a leaf that was clinging on for dear life in a storm. You gently reached a hand out, laying it on his shoulder. He immediately flinched, and you recoiled, holding your hands up in surrender.

“It’s just me, love. It’s just me.”

You held your hand out for him, gently taking his hand in yours. It tremoured, his fingers rigid and curled in. You furrowed your brows, frowning. You desperately hoped that he was trembling just because he was cold. He was soaked, after all.

But you knew you were clinging desperately to hope, and luck was not likely to be on your side. No, there was a much more accurate, and much more devastating possibility.

Someone had used the Cruciatus Curse on him.

You gently pulled him inside, shutting the door behind him. You eased his coat off his shoulders, laying it on the table next to you.

“Sirius?” You asked, brushing his hair out of his face. “You have to tell me what happened. Please?”

He finally looked up at you, face pale, before he dropped to his knees, gasping for breath. You followed him down, settling behind him to hold him up.

“Effie? Euphemia, please, help me. Mum!”

You heard commotion on the second floor, and feet came rushing down the stairs, but James and Remus beat Euphemia and Fleamont into the room. James stopped in his tracks as he took in the sight of you on the floor, holding his best friend who was still uncontrollably shaking.

Euphemia and Fleamont finally made it into the room, both letting out small gasps at the sight before them. You looked to them desperately, Sirius clinging to you. There was a pause, and then Monty cleared his throat.

“Right,” he finally said, casting a drying spell over Sirius before turning to the boys. “You two, help me get him up. He must be freezing. Fireplace, now.”

They nodded, quickly moving to help Sirius. He clung to you when he felt hands on him, but you gently shushed him, easing him off of you.

“I’ve got you, mate,” James said, pulling Sirius’s weight into him. “I promise you that. I’ve got you.”

You gently passed him, sending a silent thank you to James. “I’ll be right there, I promise. Let me talk to Effie, alright?”

Reluctantly, he fully let go, allowing the boys and Fleamont to help him up. As soon as he was out of earshot, you turned to Effie.

“They used the Cruciatus on him. I’m sure of it.”

Effie shook with a quiet but violent rage, nodding with tears in her eyes. You may have been like a daughter to her, but Sirius was like a son. One of her children was hurt.

“I know. How could a mother do that to her own child?”

Her voice was thick with tears, and you laid a comforting hand on her arm. “I don’t know how to help him. I need you to help me with him, I don’t want to hurt him. Do you think he’s in pain?”

“Were his hands stiff? His fingers?”

You nodded, and she sighed, rubbing her temples. “The worst of it is over, then. That normally only happens with the curse that has been used either multiple times, or once for a long time.”

You felt your eyes well up with tears at her words, quickly trying to blink them away. She continued, only making your heart hurt worse.

“Rigidity is his body’s way of healing. The muscles tense up so he doesn’t overexert them. It’s an involuntary response, it’ll ease with time. It shouldn’t hurt much, not anymore. I can give him a potion though, it’ll calm him and help the process along faster.”

“Is there anything I can do?” You asked, sounding desperate. “I don’t think I can handle watching him be in pain.”

“Ease his hands to a relaxed position, if he lets you. Stimulating the muscles will help them heal faster.”

You nodded, and she took a deep breath, headed for the stairs.

“I’ll get him the potion. Go sit with him, darling. You’re his best treatment.”

She left you alone in the room, already halfway up the stairs as she gave you directions. You took a deep breath, willing yourself to calm down. You had to be strong, right now. For Sirius.

You headed into the room, finding Sirius sat in front of the fire with a blanket around his shoulders. He stared blankly into the flames, his eyes distant. Remus and James shared glances between themselves, saying without saying that the two of them had no clue about what to do. Monty stood at the back of the room, waiting for Euphemia to join him.

Quietly, you eased your way onto the floor, sitting beside Sirius. He turned his head at the sense of movement, immediately reaching for you. You opened your arms, letting him sink into them. He kept his arms clutched tight around your waist, hiding his face in your stomach.

You looked up in bewilderment, silently begging for someone to do something. Monty must have felt your desperation, waiting for Effie to return with the potion before taking it from her hand, passing it to you.

“Sirius,” you muttered into his hair, gently coaxing him. “Sirius, you need to drink this. It’ll help you feel better.”

“I don’t want to go to sleep,” he said, although you barely heard him through his muffled voice in your shirt.

“What?” You asked again, trying to coax his head up.

“Mother makes me take a Sleeping Draught every night, so I won’t bother her past dusk. It doesn’t feel right, it makes me see things. It’s more than sleeping. It’s worse.”

You felt a twinge in your heart at his words, shaking your head. “This isn’t a sleep potion, darling. Just a calming one.”

“It’ll ease you, lad. Both mind and body,” Fleamont said, waving his hand encouragingly. “We wouldn’t make you take anything that would hurt you. Drink it, son.”

You pulled the cork out of the vile, gently easing Sirius’s head back. “Open, please.”

Reluctantly, he parted his lips, letting you pour the potion past them. He swallowed, grimacing at the taste. Remus handed Sirius his cup, letting him take a sip.

“Wash it down, it’ll help. Trust me, I know. Madam Pomfrey’s made me take my fair share of that one.”

Sirius visibly eased, leaning back into your side. You took one of his hands in yours, gently rubbing your thumb in circles along his joints. Slowly, his hands began to relax.

“What happened, Sirius? Do you think Walburga and Orion will come after you?” Fleamont asked.

“She doesn’t have the gall,” Effie said, her first time speaking since she entered the room. She was visibly pale. “It’s not the Black way, is it Sirius?”

“I expect I’m burned off the tapestry by now. Mother was angrier than I’ve ever seen her. Fed up with me, I guess. Too many letters, too much noise, too much trouble. I don’t know, it all happened so fast. I was explicitly told I am never welcome back. Ever. That’s actually the one nice thing she’s ever done for me…naming Regulus heir.”

You frowned at his words. He laced them with humor, but you could see straight through it. He was minutes away from crumbling.

“Is Regulus alright?” You asked, turning his attention to you. “Does he need to come, too?”

Sirius shook his head. “No. He’s alright, he promised. And I know he wasn’t lying. He’s the one who told me it’s better that I leave. He’ll probably be getting special treatment, now that he’s the heir of the house. Guess he figured I’d have somewhere to go.”

“He was right, dear. You’ll stay with us. As long as you need. Forever, if you want. It’s a pleasure to have you. You’re just as much a son to us as Y/N is a daughter,” Effie smiled.

“Which is basically blood,” James said, grinning. “I mean, she’s here all the time. Might as well call her a sister, right?”

There was a light chuckle throughout the room, but everyone was still uneasy. Finally, Effie clapped her hands together.

“I’ll have Winky make you something to eat, and bring you another potion to take before you go to sleep. You need your rest.”

“Take the guest room,” Remus piped in. “I’ll bunk with James.”

“No—“

“Wasn’t a question, mate. You’re taking it.”

Sirius didn’t say anything, only giving him a grateful nod. You rubbed his back, standing up.

“I’m in the next room. Do you feel like eating right now, or do you want to lay down for a bit? I’ll help you to your room.”

“I’ll grab you some clothes,” James said, and you gave him a grateful smile.

You caught Effie faintly smiling, tears welling in her eyes. Her kids, all grown up and responsible, taking care of each other without a second thought. It warmed her heart.

“Come along, darling,” Monty said, taking Effie’s hand. “I think they can handle it from here, let’s leave him be. Sirius, if you need anything, and I mean anything, don’t hesitate to ask.”

“Ask anyone. We’re here if you need us,” Remus said, offering a smile.

“Right, everyone. Let’s let him be for the night. I want everyone to get some rest, we’ll talk more in the morning. I love you, my boys. I love you, my girl. Goodnight,” Effie said, headed for the stairs with Monty in tow.

James and Remus gave Sirius a quick hug, and then you, before following them up the stairs. When you heard everyone’s door close, you immediately turned to Sirius, searching his eyes for any pain or emotion. He looked exhausted.

“You should eat something.”

“Too tired,” he murmured, casting his eyes to the floor.

You nodded. “In the morning, then. Promise?”

“I promise.”

That was good enough for you. You gently took his hand in yours, interlacing your fingers. You braced his arm with yours, taking the stairs one at a time, going as slow as he needed you to.

When you made it to the top, you guided him to his door. You opened it for him, nodding for him to go inside, but he gave you a look of fear, one that struck you like an arrow in the heart.

“Do you need me to stay?” You asked, giving his hand a squeeze.

He only nodded, ashamed.

“I’ll stay.”

You led him into the room, pulling back the sheets on the bed and propping up the pillows. James had left a fresh pair of socks, a shirt, and a pair of fleece pajama pants at the foot of the bed.

Sirius took his shoes off, grimacing in pain while he bent down.

You sighed, walking back over to him to help. You kicked his shoes to the side, bending down to yank his socks off. You moved back up his body, gripping the bottom of Sirius’s shirt.

“This ok?” You asked, and he nodded in consent. Your voice was soft. “Arms up.”

You eased his shirt off of him, before doing the same to his pants, tucking your fingers in the waistband and pulling them down to his shins for him to step out of.

You quickly helped him redress to his level of comfort, before throwing off some of your outer clothes until you were comfortable enough to sleep in them, too.

“Come on, then,” you said, crawling into the right side of the bed.

You knew Sirius preferred the left. He liked to be closest to the door. He quickly took his spot, settling under the sheets. He sat still for a moment, but finally caved, reaching an arm over.

“Can I?”

You opened your arms for him, giving him room. “Come here, love.”

He immediately sunk into your arms, pressing himself as close to you as he possibly could. You wrapped one arm protectively around his shoulders, curling your fingers through his hair with the other. You sat in silence for a moment, before Sirius finally couldn’t take it any longer.

“Talk to me, please,” he muttered.

“About what, love? I wasn’t sure if you wanted to talk about it or not. Do you want me to distract you, or do you want to talk about it?”

Sirius hummed into your neck, and you felt him shrug his shoulders. You nodded, pressing the matter further.

“Alright. Let’s talk about it, then. What’s on your mind?”

Sirius was quiet a moment, contemplating whether or not he should actually speak, before he relented.

“I know it’s for the better.”

You furrowed your brows in confusion. “What do you mean?”

“Being here, with you. With the Potters. I know it’s for the better, but I can’t help but feel like I shouldn’t be here. Like I don’t deserve it, or something.”

“Don’t say that,” you shook your head, holding him tighter. “You don’t belong there, and you’re certainly better off here with us. Why wouldn’t you deserve that?”

“You’re doing too much for me. It’s a burden on you all.”

“You’re not a burden. Not to me, or to anyone in this house, alright. Everyone here is your family, and they wouldn’t hesitate to help you if you needed it.”

You continued to run a hand through his hair, using the other to trace and gently massage the muscles down his shoulders and his back. He relaxed under your touch, lulling into a haze. Finally feeling safe and warm, Sirius felt like he could actually get some genuine sleep around you for the first time in months.

A sleep that wasn’t induced by some kind of potion, at that.

“I’m tired,” he muttered, turning the conversation away from himself and the night's events.

“Rest, darling. I’m not going anywhere.”

“You’ll stay?” He asked, his voice growing small.

“Of course I will,” you answered, your tone soft. “Go to sleep, Sirius. I’m right here if you need me.”

He was too tired to muster up a response, only humming into your neck. You squeezed him tight to you, resting your head back into the pillow, shutting your own eyes for the night.

—

A/N - Hi! I hope you enjoyed it, let me know what you think!

#harry potter #marauders #marauders imagine #harry potter x reader #harry potter imagine #marauders x reader #sirius black #sirius black imagine #sirius black x reader

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godofstory · 7 months

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rereading Goblet of Fire after years..man I HATE crouch sr so bad

my poor Winky😭 she didn't say who really did it for that bitch's sake but he dissowned her anyway🥺

#barty crouch junior #barty crouch jr #goblet of fire #winky the house elf #anti barty crouch sr #i'm not sorry for my language in the book :))

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ramblings-of-a-mad-cat · 30 days

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hi Blair :) I read your post on house elves and i wanted to infodump about my thoughts/headcanons on elves. It’s one of the most interesting parts of the wizarding world to me.

House elves do not actually like being enslaved. So many people jump to the conclusion that “oh house elves love being slaves, and Dobby and Hermione are supposed to be the weird ones.” I don’t think that’s true, for multiple reasons.

-You touched on this in your post but first reason is that house elves are brainwashed. One of the unforgivables gives a wizard the power to control someone. According to the wiki, it’s only illegal to use an unforgivable curse on humans. There’s also other ways of controlling someone in the wizarding world, such as amortentia (keep in mind that there’s a half elf in the fantastic beast series). Even if they aren’t magically brainwashed, house elves have been a part of the wizarding world for ages, and would be raised with the expectation that they would serve wizards.

Second reason is the wars. Dobby mentions that the first war was a dark time for house elves. Goblet of fire takes place before the second war begins. I know elves have magic but it doesn’t seem like they have any defensive magic. They’re small creatures that are easily harmed/forced to harm themselves. We’ve seen how death eaters such as Lucius Malfoy of the Blacks treat their own elves. How would they have fared underneath Voldemort’s regime?

My belief is that elves tolerate captivity in exchange for safety and protection from wizards. Sure, wizards do abuse elves and the Black family specifically beheaded their elves when they got too old. However, without an employer, the elves risk being killed by random wizards or other creatures. This is why I brought up the wars because most death eaters would not hesitate to harm an elf.

This next one is more specific to the kitchen elves. I think they were mad at Hermione because she was condescending and because Hogwarts is the best job they could get. They’re surrounded by fellow elves. They’re not abused. Dobby at least gets paid, and it’s possible some of the other elves are too. Their refusal to touch the socks that Hermione leaves could also be because they don’t want to risk losing this job. I don’t think they would be kicked out for handling clothes, but the risk of homeless is not worth it.

After the second war, more protections were put in place for elves. The biggest is that their owners would face legal repercussions if they abused their elves. More job opportunities opened for elves besides domestic work. Hermione took a more subtle approach this time and worked on deprogramming the younger elves.

Infodumps are the best kind of dumps!

Yes, yes! They are brainwashed! Anytime a story features a group of slaves who are "just so happy" to be enslaved...like, that's not the story saying it's a good thing. You gotta read between the lines. Doctor Who did the same thing with The Ood, and just line with the House Elves, there was more to that story than initially presented. Anytime a slave is happy about their situation, one can assume it's because they are conditioned to feel that way. Especially if they say that they have "no right to feel unhappy when there's jobs to be done and masters to be served." Like, that line has stuck with me since my childhood, it is so fucking chilling. How do Ron and Harry hear something like that and not become immediately radicalized?

I have no idea what sort of magic binds the House Elves into slavery but it must be quite powerful because House Elf magic is otherwise depicted as stronger than human magic. They can bypass things like Anti-Disapparation Charms and everything. I never considered The Imperius Curse but I can't imagine it's that simple either, because the Elves are often "inherited" and seem to retain the conditioning even when they're between Masters. Dobby was free for a couple of years, and made much more progress in his deprogramming, but he still couldn't speak a word against the Malfoys. Fast forward three years later, he had overcome the trauma enough to return to the belly of the beast and confront his old masters, even fight them, for the sake of his friends. So I think the conditioning can be broken, just like in real life, but it would take time. It would take a healthy environment. It would take an elf who actually wants to be free, and with the world House Elves are raised in, most of them aren't going to want that.

I...completely forgot there was a Half-Elf in the Potterverse. I know who you mean, too. The sweet little woman who took care of Credence. (Or maybe it was Corvus? I'm still a little fuzzy on the details.) But either way, that....that is horrifying. That sends chills down my spine, to consider the implications of just how that happened. Because there's no fucking way that was a consenting relationship. House Elves do appear to have human level intelligence so it's theoretically possible...in the distant future when House Elf slavery has been abolished for generations. But, in the nineteenth century? It would never happen. That just gives me the creepy crawlies and I wonder how many monsters out there exploited their Elf's absolute obedience to do the unspeakable.

It seems like a House Elf can do almost anything but their highest law is their master's bidding. Kreacher was ordered to return home from the cave, so he did. It was that simple. On the other hand, he was also ordered to destroy The Horcrux, and he couldn't do that. But Horcruxes are a cut above "usual" magic, so that may just be a special case. All I know is, House Elves would have been miserable under Voldemort's rule. He framed Hokey for murder. He tortured Kreacher and left him to be ripped apart by Inferi. I know it's a general rule of thumb that everything would be worse with Voldemort in charge, but especially for minorities and the House Elves are a minority.

The idea that House Elves tolerate enslavement because it provides protection from being killed in the wild is an intriguing one. I don't think it would be the case anymore, by the time Harry was growing up. But I wouldn't be surprised if this was how they did it. If this was how Wizards successfully subjugated the Elf race. By creating a world where it was sport to hunt them and then offering them a "way out." This would have been centuries ago, most likely. Yet even now, Wizards fear the Elves, even if they would never say so. There's a reason why it's literally illegal for any non-human to carry or use a wand.

I think you're absolutely right about the Hogwarts' Elves. They are likely a reflection of the mindset of Elven culture in general, especially when we look at Winky, but it's also a fact that working at Hogwarts is the greatest job they could hope to have. I know I give Dumbledore a lot of shit, but he did good here. Keeping slaves is never okay, but most of the time, the slaves in question would choose freedom if that was an option for them. These slaves won't do that, so the best you can do for them is give them a job where they're treated well and get to be among their own kind. If the other Elves asked for their freedom, to be paid fair wages, I'm sure Dumbledore would do that. And I don't usually praise the man but he'd have no reason not to.

But the fact is, they'll never do that. Not without real change, the kind of change Hermione wants to bring. Yes, Dobby is paid, but even he turned down fair wages and terms because, as he put it, he liked being free but he also liked working. The other House Elves seem to be embarrassed, even ashamed, at the ways Dobby doesn't conform to the expected status quo. It's also probably at least in part because he was freed. I'm sure a number of these Elves were, but Dobby and Winky are the only confirmed elves at Hogwarts who were freed, and they're equally ashamed of Winky, as she is ashamed of herself.

As for handling clothes...honestly, this gets into woolly territory because the books never answer the question of laundry. Can House Elves handle laundry? I have to assume they can. With that in mind, being freed is probably a more ceremonial thing, where the Master explicitly presents the Elf with a piece of clothing. (On the other hand, we see that this can be done accidentally, so who the hell knows.) I just don't think picking up clothes without even realizing it would count. Also, not for nothing, but....Hermione cannot free the Hogwarts Elves. She is not their Master, she doesn't have that power. She also cannot free Kreacher, despite Ron warning her not to give him clothes. I'm not sure why all of the characters act as if this is something she can do, including Hermione herself, but it just muddies the waters even further, in terms of figuring out how this rule works.

I do like to imagine that Hermione took a more subtle approach to dealing with Elf Slavery as her original strategy clearly wasn't working. But I don't know. This is the same girl who lit Snape on fire. Who kidnapped Rita Skeeter. Who scarred Marietta Edgecombe. When Hermione gets passionate about something, she doesn't do things by halves. Still, we know she eventually became Minister of Magic (one of the only things from Cursed Child canon I will accept) so it's safe to say she set the wizarding world on the right path, even if she didn't manage to completely abolish House Elf enslavement in her lifetime.

#House Elves #Hermione Granger #House Elf #Dobby #Dobby the House Elf #Harry Potter #Harry Potter Analysis #Kreacher #Kreacher the House Elf #Ron Weasley #Harry James Potter #Winky #Winky the House Elf #Albus Dumbledore #Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry #Irma Dugard #Is the Half Elf's name #I had to double check but that's it

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mybutcheredtongue · 2 months

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I'll Love You 'til the Grass Around My Gravestone is Deceased

post azkaban sirius x fem!reader

CHAPTER SIXTEEN (see full series list here)

1993

Giving an elf clothes is basically the same as throwing them off a cliff. Life-ruining. You think about this as you leave Winky sobbing at Crouch's feet, turning to return to your tent. Poor Winky. First she had to deal with that awful man as a master, and now she's being set free by said man. It's a tough life for house elves, you'll give them that. This all just reminds you of Bitsy — you'll have to go visit her first thing when school starts.

You glance to your left, spotting Mr Weasley escorting the kids back to their tent, and feel guilt gnawing at your gut.

"Give me a sec, will you?" you say to Minerva, jogging over to their group. "Mr Weasley?"

He looks up, raising his eyebrows when he sees you.

"I'm sorry for all that...I'm sure it was a shock to the system..." you say warily. "But please, don't think of me any differently. My — my past has no effect whatsoever on my work, and I can assure you that I will always do what is best for my students and — "

Mr Weasley brings up a hand, waving you down with a shake of his head. "Don't worry, professor. The boys — they speak very well of you. And Ginny too — I'm not worried."

You're surprised at that. You half expected him to look at you in disgust and steer his children away from you. It warms your heart to know he doesn't think you're bad.

"Thank you, Mr Weasley," you say genuinely. He gives you a small smile. "And I'd really appreciate it if maybe you...kept this to yourself? It's just — my job is everything to me, and if others found out..."

He nods understandingly. "You have my word."

You smile at him, nodding nervously. You glance at the three kids behind him, hoping your concern for them is communicated well enough. You head for Mr Diggory, giving him the same story, and he just nods like he wants to get as far from you as possible. That hurts, but you'll take what you can get. You scamper back to Minerva, and the two of you head back to your tent.

⁠✧⁠*⁠。✧⁠*⁠。

The rest of your summer break is...boring. Believe it or not, it can get very lonely in your house with just Dubh as company. You consider going to visit your parents again, but part of you feels guilty when you think about leaving. What if Sirius tries to contact you but can't reach you at your parents'? It's too much of a risk.

You and Remus spend your time together, like you've always done, but it's still not the same. It's not like you spend every waking moment together — and you miss him when he's not there. You miss the company of your best friend. The silence of your little home is deafening when you wake to do the exact same things you did the day before.

One evening, your mind wanders to Harry. You wonder how he's getting on. You hope he's safe and not still shaken after the events of the Quidditch World Cup — that night definitely set you on edge and worried for your godson. Perhaps it's time you should actually make an effort to contact him — now that he knows well who you are, he doesn't deserve to just have that be it. Right now, your relationship is still very professor-studenty...and you don't want that. You're his godmother and you want him to see you exactly as that — someone he can trust, someone he can confide in and talk to without worrying about school or work.

So, with all this in mind, you grab a quill and some ink, fishing out a piece of parchment and setting it all down on the table.

Dear Harry,

Too formal, you think. You scratch it out messily, starting again.

Dearest Harry,

No, that's not right. You scratch that out.

Hey, Harry!

What are you so excited about? This is just setting him up for something interesting, and you really have nothing interesting to tell. Scratch that.

What's up, Hazza?

Scratch.

My beloved godson,

Scratch scratch.

To: Harry

Scratch scratch scratch.

You look down at the parchment, realising you've just about scratched out the top half of the parchment. Nice one. You crumple it up, throwing it towards the rubbish bin in the corner of the room and missing it by half a mile. You groan, getting up and begrudgingly tossing it in the bin properly and getting another piece of parchment. You take a deep breath before starting this one.

Harry,

I hope you're well, and that you're enjoying your stay with the Weasleys'. Do tell Ron and Hermione I said hello and I'm really looking forward to seeing you all in September! Hopefully there's a year ahead where the three of you aren't getting up to too much mischief...though perhaps that's an impossible thing to ask for.

I hope you're doing okay after the World Cup. I won't mollycoddle you and say you have nothing to worry about because you're old enough to know better, but you can always talk to me, Harry. I mean it. I'm your godmother and it's high time I start acting like it.

I'm afraid I don't really have anything interesting to share. The summer can be quite boring for me — it's just myself and Dubh. Remus comes 'round a lot, but I think that's because he gets a free meal out of it.

There's a room here for you, y'know. When we were made godparents, Sirius demanded that you have your own room here because it was a 'necessity'. Personally I think it was just so he could get the chance to put the idea in your head that tying your dad's shoelaces together would be a good thing. It's lucky one-year-old Harry had little-to-no dexterity.

Write back soon with all the news! I could do with a little excitement.

All my love and best wishes,

You sign your name, tapping your quill against your chin thoughtfully as you read back over the letter.

P.S. If you hear anything from that daft dog will you please let me know? I've gotten no word and can't help but worry. Enjoy the photo!

You spend five minutes rummaging around for a photo, eventually landing on one of a young Lily smiling sheepishly, her cheeks rosy, clutching a copy of her potions textbook in her arms.

⁠✧⁠*⁠。✧⁠*⁠。

Children run and crowd the platform at King's Cross, hugging parents and grimacing as their mothers press sloppy kisses to their cheeks. You push your own trunk and Dubh's crate through the crowd, finally managing to get onto the train and into your usual compartment in the Prefects' carriage.

You sit down with a sigh, taking out your books and doing what you usually do: touch up lesson plans. Then you pull out a fictional book, written in French, hoping to brush up on your skills in the language before the arrival of the Beauxbatons students.

This year, something big is happening at Hogwarts: the Triwizard Tournament. One of-age student from Hogwarts, Durmstrang, and Beauxbatons is selected and the three participants compete in three tasks to win a grand prize of a thousand galleons. You're quite excited for it — especially to meet the new teachers from the other schools. It's something to look forward to!

After a while, you decide to get up and stretch your legs. You'll go for a walk down the train, maybe have a quick word with your seventh years and see how they're doing. Off you go, and luckily you do spot a gaggle of your seventh years in a compartment with the door open. Inside, you find Cedric Diggory, Molly Milvy, Elisa Catchweld and James Smith. All Hufflepuffs. They tell you about their summers, the holidays they went on, their hopes for this coming year, their worries about exams. Molly Milvy seems especially worried about her Astronomy exam, pulling out a thick textbook from her bag and flipping it open.

"I've just — Professor, how in Merlin's name do you analyse spectra? I just — I cannot wrap my head around it — "

You chuckle light-heartedly. "Oh, Ms Milvy, we'll cover it, don't you worry. I'll explain it all when we come to it."

"When will we come to it? I'm seriously just beginning to worry — "

You gently take the book from the blonde girl, closing it shut. "I'll make a note to get an early start on spectra with your class this year, and I'm happy to spend time going over it outside of class with you if needs be."

She smiles, some of the stress leaving her face. "Okay, okay. Thank you, Professor."

You glance at Cedric Diggory. Did his father tell him about you? If he did, he's not showing it. He's looking as friendly as he's always been. You nod and smile at the students, bidding them goodbye before continuing on your way down the train. You pass students, giving them all greeting smiles, before eventually you near a compartment, peering in the window and spotting Harry, Ron and Hermione sitting inside, chatting away amicably. You knock on the door, smiling when Hermione stands to open it.

"Professor!" She immediately starts to smooth her hair down in an effort to look more presentable and you chuckle at her antics.

"I hope you don't mind my interrupting," you say, and they all shake their heads. You slide the door closed behind you, wondering if you should sit down or not. No, maybe not. Surely they don't want their professor butting in like this. "Anyways, I'm just popping in to say hello...Harry, did you get my letter?"

Harry nods. "Oh, yeah, I did, thanks. I meant to send one back but it only arrived a few days ago, thought it best to just leave it 'til now..."

"Oh, that's fine. Nothing to worry about," you reply with a smile.

"Professor, I wanted to ask you something," Harry questions and you nod. "At the Cup, when the Dark Mark was conjured...do you think that means Voldemort is back?"

You bite your lip, shrugging. "Honestly? I don't know, Harry. But I do know that with Wormtail free to do whatever the hell he wants, it's best to keep your wits about you."

"Do you know who conjured it?"

You scoff. "Sure if I knew, don't you think I'd have said something that night? I haven't got a clue, I'm afraid."

There's a brief silence, and you nearly consider leaving them because you think you're boring them, but Ron asks you a question.

"How come you're not an animagus?"

You blink in surprise at him.

"Y'know, 'cause all the rest of them were."

Your legs are tired from standing and you decide to forego all previous worries and just sit yourself down next to your godson, smiling across at Ron.

"Oh, Ron, you think the boys would have let a girl in on their little tricks?" You chuckle. "They had their own little club of...animals, and none of the rest of us were supposed to know. Though I will say that they did choose a terrible spot to perform their little ritual."

"Ritual?" Harry asks curiously. You can spot the glow in his eyes at the prospect of hearing about his parents and godfather and it warms your heart to see.

"The animagus one," you answer. You look over at Hermione. "Hermione, I'm sure you know of this already — " the girl swells with pride, " — but the spell for becoming an animagus is incredibly complicated. First, you have to keep a mandrake leaf under your tongue for an entire month — Sirius found that one especially difficult — "

"Why?"

You laugh. "Well, one, because it's awful to eat and drink with that in...and two, because Sirius had a fondness for snogging every girl in the castle."

Hermione's eyes widen and her face flushes. Ron and Harry share a look as both jaws drop.

"What?"

You grin at their shocked faces. "Yes, Sirius was quite the ladies man back in his day. Couldn't keep him away from a pretty girl! Anyway, then the boys had to say this chant every day...oh, what was it? I can't remember — "

"Amato, animo, animato, animagus," Hermione says and you nod.

"Yes, that was it. Every sunrise and sundown, those boys were chanting that incantation. They had to make up this potion and drink it during a lightning storm. Which, took quite a while...but the night there finally was one, they went up to the Astronomy Tower, for ease of access or something, I guess. And well, I spent practically every night up there in the Tower and may have walked in during their transformation."

"Really?" Hermione says, engrossed in your story.

"Oh, yes. It was weird, honestly, going up there and seeing Remus standing around these three familiar-looking animals..." you smile, remembering the memory. "But that's it, really. I mean, I already knew Remus was a werewolf before that, and now I knew the rest of 'em were transforming into animals whenever they pleased! But to answer your question, Ron, I had missed the chance to become one, and I wasn't as committed as they were. Though I would love to see what animal I'd be...James used to joke that I'd be a sea urchin, but I reckon I'd be something cooler like...like, I don't know, a dragon."

The three laugh and you smile.

"So, Harry, have you heard anything from Sirius?" you say, worry knotting your gut.

Harry nods and you feel a wave of relief washing over you. "Yeah, I have. He sent me one a while ago, kind of at the beginning of summer? He — uh — he said he's fine. And well, I sent him one a few weeks ago, before the Cup — but I haven't gotten a reply yet."

You nod thoughtfully. "Alright, thank goodness. He — he can't send me letters, you see. The Ministry are monitoring our house."

"Wait, really?" Hermione says in surprise. "That's awful."

You shrug. "It's nothing I haven't had to deal with before. They just — they're desperate. Desperate to get something on me."

"But you've been proven innocent!" Hermione exclaims. "And Dumbledore trusts you. Surely that's enough for them?"

You shake your head grimly. "I'm afraid not. The public hates that Sirius managed to escape, and the Ministry are just hoping they'll catch me out on something and make everyone think they've done something worthwhile. It'd also be a good jab at Dumbledore because he trusts me — Fudge worries he wants to become the Minister of Magic. Not that I think Dumbledore has even the tiniest shred of interest in that position anyway."

"Why wouldn't he want to be the Minister of Magic?" Ron asks incredulously, scoffing.

"He says it's because he has everything here, at Hogwarts," you say with a shrug, before adding with a small smile, "but if you ask me, I think it's because when you have control over everything like that, you don't have to fight for anything. Dumbledore likes that fight."

You roll your jumper's sleeves up, sighing. You should probably get going. Someone might accuse you of favouritism, sitting here with these three. Which...wouldn't be wrong, of course, but still not a great look for you. Hermione lets out a small gasp, looking at your forearm. You follow her gaze, landing on a tattoo.

"What's that for, Professor?" She asks curiously. Ron and Harry both lean forward to get a better look. It's that same painting of the pottery that Remus did for you, now permanently etched onto your skin. It's a jug, a plate and two cups. Upon the jug, is a pair of antlers, and on the plate, a lily flower.

You smile fondly, brushing over the art with your fingers. "It's pottery. Y'know, for the Potters..." you smile over at Harry. "There's Lily and there's James." You point to their symbols respectively. "S'pose I'll have to get another for you, eh, Harry? Wonder what it'd be."

He beams back at you, like it's the greatest honour in the world. The corners of his eyes crease behind his glasses.

You stand with a sigh, brushing over your jumper and pulling the sleeves back down over your tattoo. Not your only tattoo, by the way. There's another much bigger one on your back, but that's a story for another day.

"Well, I best be off," you say. "I'll see you all at dinner."

With that, you leave the compartment, slipping down the corridor again. You glance over your shoulders to see Draco Malfoy, Vincent Crabbe and Gregory Goyle standing at their compartment doorway, a jeering sneer on Draco's face.

Ah, teenage drama. Happens to us all.

⁠✧⁠*⁠。✧⁠*⁠。

The Great Hall is alive with great chatter and excitement. Inside, students buzz with anticipation, yapping away to each other as they reunite. You sit yourself down at the staff table, greeting everyone after the holidays. There's an empty seat beside you, Minerva's usual spot. On your left, sits the tiny Professor Flitwick, who greets you cheerfully.

"Hello!"

"Hello, Filius!" you chirp back, smiling at him.

Hagrid is of course, busy with the first years, battling their way across the Black Lake. Minerva, you saw, is busy supervising the drying of the Entrance Hall floor — which had previously been assaulted by Peeves' water balloons.

You glance down the table, wondering who the new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher is. You scan and scan for a new face, but are stuck with Severus Snape's ugly scowl as your eyes meet. You wave condescendingly at him, bending your fingers like you're waving goodbye to a little toddler. His nostrils flare and he looks away from you. Poor baby. Holding onto that grudge against Sirius all these years, he must have an awful dull life.

Professor Dumbledore sits in the middle, smiling contentedly out at the students as you all wait for the first-years to arrive. Professor Sprout sits on the other side of Flitwick. You like Pomona Sprout — she's that kind of funny and friendly woman who won't take any bullshit. It's great.

"Pomona, long time no see!" You say, leaning to talk to her while Flitwick charms his spectacles to dance on the table for his enjoyment. He claps his hands excitedly, ignoring the two of you.

"Aye, that'd be right!" She exclaims heartily. "By Godric, you wouldn't see such rain if you prayed for it! I was absolutely drowneded outside!"

You chuckle, choosing not to correct her use of 'drowneded'. "Honestly! I had to use about three drying spells before coming in here. Madness."

No sooner have the words left your mouth than the doors of the Great Hall swing open and Minerva strides through, leading a trail of young first-years behind her. They're positively drenched, shivering from head to toe with the cold. There must have been no time to dry them off, you suppose. One young lad is covered in a large mass of fabric, one you recognise as Hagrid's moleskin overcoat. He's practically swimming in the massive piece of clothing, his head just barely poking out from the top of it.

The first-years look around in wonderment, gazing up at the sky, looking nervously out at all the older students, looking back at the teachers. You smile and wave at the ones who look at you, hoping to ease their nerves a little bit.

Minerva places the Sorting Hat on a three legged stool before the first-years and you suppress a groan.

A thousand years or more ago,

When I was newly sewn,

There lived four wizards of renown,

Whose names are still well known:

Bold Gryffindor, from wild moor,

Fair Ravenclaw, from glen,

Sweet Hufflepuff, from valley broad,

Shrewd Slytherin, from fen,

They shared a wish, a hope, a dream,

They hatched a daring plan

To educate young sorcerers

Thus Hogwarts school began.

Now each of these four founders

Formed their own house, for each

Did value different virtues

In the ones they had to teach.

By Gryffindor, the bravest were

Prized far beyond the rest;

For Ravenclaw the cleverest

Would always be the best;

For Hufflepuff, hard workers were

Most worthy of admission;

And power-hungry Slytherin

Loved those of great ambition.

While still they did divide

Their favourites from the throng,

Yet how to pick the worthy ones

When they were dead and gone?

'Twas Gryffindor who found the way,

He whipped me off his head

The founders put some brains in me

So I could choose instead!

Now slip me snug about your ears,

I've never yet been wrong,

I'll have a look inside your mind

And tell where you belong!

The Great Hall erupts into applause and you applaud too, thankful that it's over. Truth be told, you think the sorting is a whole load of hogwash. No one person is just cunning, no one person is just intelligent...it makes no sense. You like to think that though you were placed in Gryffindor, you were a sort of Jack-of-all-trades. Kind, clever, cunning and brave. Of course, you know that perhaps you're setting yourself too high...but who doesn't have a fantasy?

The Sorting begins, and you drum your fingers on the table in front of you. Thirty-three years old and you feel just as impatient as the other students do, desperately hoping for Minerva to hurry it up a little. You can feel your stomach gargling loudly, glancing around to see if anyone noticed. Sprout did, and she's nodding bleakly at you as though she feels your pain.

This is the one thing you don't like about the feast — the lack of one while you wait for the Sorting to finish. Sometimes, you try and use your intuition to guess what house they're going to get. A young girl hops up onto the stool, and Minerva places the hat on her head.

Ravenclaw, for sure.

"HUFFLEPUFF!"

Yeah, well, I was going to say that.

Time drags on and on, and you're seriously starting to consider taking a chomp out of the wooden table in front of you. If you squint just right...it looks like a bar of Honeyduke's chocolate.

But thankfully, it seems you won't have to go that far, because Minerva finally plucks the hat from the stool once the last student has been sorted and carries both the stool and the hat out.

Dumbledore stands, arms opened wide in welcome. "I have only two words to say to you," he tells you, his deep voice booming around the hall, "Tuck in."

And tuck in you do. You eat to your heart's content, glad to finally be rid of the rumbling in your tummy. You clink your goblets against Sprout and Flitwick's cheerfully, beaming when Minerva finally joins you at the table, huffing something about Peeves and his antics.

Finally, when the last of the desserts have been cleared and plates have been licked clean, Dumbledore gets to his feet again. Wondrously, the buzz of chatter ceased almost at once, everyone turning to listen to what he's going to say. You wish you had that kind of power over a room.

"So!" he says, smiling around at everyone. "Now that we are all fed and watered, I must once more ask for your attention while I give out a few notices."

"Mr Filch, the caretaker, has asked me to tell you that the list of objects forbidden in the castle has this year been extended to include Screaming Yo-yos, Fanged Frisbees, and Ever-Bashing Boomerangs. The full list comprises some four-hundred and thirty-seven items, I believe, and can be viewed in Mr Filch's office, if anyone would like to check it."

Filch is standing down the bottom of the hall, eyes flitting about the hall suspiciously. He lands on the Weasley twins and gives them a dark look — you expect he hopes to really catch them out this year. Not a chance.

"As ever, I would like to remind you all that the forest on the grounds is strictly out-of-bounds to all students, as is the village of Hogsmeade to all those below third year. It is also my painful duty to inform you that the Inter-House Quidditch Cup will not take place this year."

Now this sets the students off. There is loud whispering and muttering, a few outbursts of 'What?'

"This is due to an event that will be starting in October, and continuing throughout the school year, taking up much of the teachers' time and energy — but I am sure you will all enjoy it immensely. I have great pleasure in announcing that this year at Hogwarts — "

At that moment, there's a deafening roll of thunder and the doors to the Great Hall bang open.

⁠✧⁠*⁠。✧⁠*⁠。

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