#harry does remain a very dear OC still
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Yesterday I went through some old drawings (10 years more or less, jesus) and I was really surprised by how much I enjoyed them.
They were a bit clunky but I could see the first traces of what would become my style now, compared to the style I had a couple of years prior to that that came more clearly from manga.
I'd really gotten into online comics and it showed, characters were always DOING stuff, the anatomy was bad but not too bad, and they had a lot more life than what I end up drawing most of the time now, and I remember having so much FUN with it.
That's the part that got to me the most, I thought my art progress was very linear, but now I realize that I ended up focusing a lot more on technique these last years and ended up losing something in the process. I should really try to go back to not caring about things looking off, if that hand is bad let it be bad, give the character something to do, draw something fun.
#not that focusing on technique is bad#it did improve my style greatly I just got too caught up in it#I just saw that GINORMOUS pile of drawings and idk I thought I'd hate them but I really didn't#I ended up laughing at my silly OCs more than once#also my grades are the only thing that proves to me I was studying#because the amount of drawings I found would say otherwise#I am going to burn a couple but that's more of a 'what if I die tomorrow and somebody finds this' paranoia#also I clearly wanted to make a comic#I'm glad I didn't but it shows#ALSO!!!! my visual library was pretty good for somebody who never used references while drawing#also yeah so many edgy comic ideas LMAO#harry does remain a very dear OC still#anthony and oliver aren't OCs they're my CHILDREN#sunny blabbers#art is hard
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x of swords - george weasley
part one of three
Summary: Growing up as Harry’s neighbor, you always believed that you were completely regular. In an attempt to feel closer to Harry (your best friend) you begin to dabble in the art of divination and, in the process, you uncover magic that you didn’t know you had. (i hate doing summaries this does not sum it up but you get the jist)
Relationships: George Weasley x Reader, platonic!Harry Potter x Reader, platonic!OC x Reader, platonic!Sirius Black x Reader, platonic!Remus Lupin x Reader, platonic!Fred Weasley x Reader, platonic!Nymphadora Tonks x Reader, platonic!Molly Weasley x Reader, platonic!Hermoine Granger x Reader, Sirius Black x Remus Lupin
Warnings: Swearing, anxiety, fluff, angst, mentions of torture, mentions of death (let me know if I missed anything!)
Word count: 22.9k
so here it is 😏 i was going to wait until i was completely finished with this to post it but i didn’t wanna rush it and oh my god it’s already so long 😫 I’m moving to Edinburgh in 2 weeks so i won’t be able to write as i have so much to pack so i hope this keeps some of you happy for a while <3 obviously i put a lot of effort into this and spent a lot of time on it so i really hope yall like it and i will personally kiss everyone who comments. likes or reblogs <3
mastelist
Life on Privet Drive was definitely something- something being incredibly boring. Nothing even remotely exciting happened on the street and the company was, to put it simply, miserable.
You’d lived in 5 Privet Drive since birth which, unfortunately for you, meant that your family are extremely close with the Dursleys who live next door. The Dursleys are a family of bigoted, pig-headed bullies. Made up of Petunia, Vernon, Dudley and, in your opinion the only tolerable one, Harry.
From the age of five, Harry had been your only friend on the street and vice versa. Initially, the both of you had bonded over your dislike of Dudley but as the years rolled on Harry and yourself had become virtually inseparable.
It was certainly strange- how close your parents were with Petunia and Vernon. Your mother and father are actually quite lovely, they are the complete opposite of the Dursleys, they’re open minded, kind and extremely friendly. But, you supposed, their friendliness didn’t discriminate from person to person, even if said person forced their orphaned nephew to sleep in the cupboard underneath the stairs.
There was no denying that Harry had been miserable with the Dursleys, who were unfortunately his only remaining family and you supposed you should’ve been happy when your best friend finally got away from them after his 11th birthday.
You’d missed him for the entire school year and you only got a chance to ask where he’d actually gone off to when he’d arrived home for the summer. (You didn’t believe the story Vernon had spun about Harry attending a boarding school for juvenile trouble makers).
“It’s incredible, (Y/n), honestly! I wish you could be there too.” He’d told you when you finally saw him again, after he’d finished his first year in his mysterious boarding school.
“That’s great, Haz, but where exactly is it?” You wondered and Harry only gave you his signature grin.
“Scotland.”
With a heavy sigh you let the subject go, he was clearly happy wherever he was going to school so it didn’t matter where or what it was. As long as he was happy.
By the time his 12th birthday rolled around you’d found the perfect gift for him. You’d made your parents buy you a polaroid camera for him to take away to school, he’d told you so many amazing stories about his school, you wanted to see some of it for yourself so you figured a camera would be the best course of action.
The morning of his birthday, Harry was woken up by the sound of pebbles tapping against his barred up window. The boy looked out to see you waving at him, an excited smile on your face and a neatly wrapped present in your other hand. Harry couldn’t stop the smile that formed on his face as you beckoned him down with your hand. It was barely dawn but you knew better than to give a present for Harry to either his aunt or uncle because they’d only give it to Dudley, so it was best to get it to him before the rest of his supposed family woke up.
Hogwarts was amazing and Harry was over the moon to have discovered he was a wizard and make so many new friends, but he had missed you- his only friend in the muggle world. Your birthday was only a few weeks after his and he hoped that maybe you’d get a hogwarts letter of your own, obviously that hadn’t happened. Nonetheless he was happy to see you in the summer, he couldn’t shake the thought that Ron and Hermione would have loved to meet you though.
Slowly and quietly, Harry snook down the stairs and out the front door to meet you.
“Happy birthday, Haz!” You whisper-shouted excitedly, pulling the green-eyed boy into your house so he wouldn’t get caught outside when he wasn’t even allowed out of his bedroom.
Harry rolled his eyes at the nickname, “I hope you know that you’re still the only person who calls me that.”
“Good,” you said happily, closing the front door behind you. “Anyway, I got you something that you can bring away to school with you!” He rose an eyebrow at you as you pushed the carefully wrapped box into his hands, “Open it,” you instructed. And so he did.
It was very possibly the most expensive gift he’d ever gotten, you (or your parents) usually got Harry presents that couldn’t be stolen by Dudley. For example, your mother had taken to buying Harry his own clothes, seeing as your best friend was a lot taller and thinner than his horrid cousin.
You, on the other hand, would usually make him gifts with sentimental value, something Dudley had absolutely zero interest in. The camera though, you knew would be safe as Harry would be leaving for school again soon enough.
Harry stared dumbfounded at the cardboard box that held the rather large polaroid camera, judging by the image on the box it was a good quality thing, probably expensive. “This is… really nice, (Y/n).”
A bright smile found your lips as you rushed into an animated explanation about why you’d picked a camera as his birthday present this year.
“So you can take lots of pictures of you and your new friends in your new fancy private school and when you come back here you can show them to me!” Harry chuckled and nodded his head, hoping he’d be able to find time to take pictures like you wanted.
“I’ll take pictures of everything. Promise.” He told you, holding out his pinky with a cheeky grin. You linked your pinky with his and nodded gratefully.
“We should christen it,” Harry announced, tearing into the box and he quickly set the camera up before he pointed it at you expectantly. “Well, come on then. I’ve told my school friends all about you, they’re going to want to see what you look like too. So, smile-“ with a disbelieving laugh, you crossed your legs underneath yourself from where you were sitting on the floor across from Harry, and tucked your hair behind your ears before you looked directly at the lense of the camera and gave it the brightest smile you could muster. The camera flashed and the picture slowly revealed itself, it seemed to be good enough to satisfy Harry’s twelve year old self.
He’d shown the polaroid to Hermione first, the bushy haired girl had smiled softly as she held the polaroid gently, “She seems lovely, Harry.”
Harry had nodded his head in agreement, you were lovely. He just hoped Dudley wasn’t terrorising you too much while he was away. His cousin always had somewhat of a crush on you, which Harry knew was ridiculous considering you all but loathed Dudley.
True to his word, Harry had taken plenty of pictures, many were of (non-magic) areas of the Hogwarts campus, many were of his friends; Ron, Hermione, Fred and George Weasley (who had an absolute field day with the muggle contraption), one or two of Hagrid and he even managed to capture a nice one of the owlery. Although you were one of his best friends, sometimes thinking about you while he was in Hogwarts brought his mood down. It reminded him of how much he wished you could’ve shared in his adventures and not to mention how much he missed you, you could hardly send him an owl, what with being a muggle and all, so he only got to spend time with you during the summer months.
Things had changed during his third year, though. When he received a rather shocking, albeit very welcome, letter.
Dear Harry,
I’d like to start by saying: hi, how are you? How’s school? Good? Great. Now that that’s out of the way… when you come home I’m going to KILL you!!! I cannot believe you didn’t tell me you are a wizard! Well, I understand why you didn’t but anyway.
You’re probably wondering how I found all of this out. Long story short, I saw Vernon’s sister floating around your sitting room and then I saw you running out swinging a wand around. I put two and two together. You would not believe how long it took me to figure out how to get in contact with you. I practically had to beg Dudley to tell me how to get this package to you, he eventually told me how in exchange for a kiss on the cheek. It was as horrifying as it sounds, the things I do for you, Haz, honestly. Don’t worry though, you can make it up to me over the summer.
I bought an owl by the way. I’m guessing she found you okay? Look after her for a little while before sending her back will you? She’s just a baby so she can’t do too much long distance travel just yet.The lady I got her from is a witch, she was very kind and knew exactly what I was looking to use an owl for. Her name is Astra (the owl’s not the lady’s)! Isn’t she lovely?
Moving on from that, I felt bad forcing you to send me pictures and getting nothing in return so I have decided to very kindly grace you with my exhilaratingly normal life. You will also find I sent you some of those sweets you like.
Tell Ron and Hermione that I said hi! Oh and Fred and George too! Get into lots of trouble for me ;) I suppose I better stop rambling now, sorry about that I’m just excited (and i might be missing you… just a tiny bit!)
Write back to me soon, if you can! Tell Astra I’m proud of her for making her first delivery! (give her plenty of treats for me yeah?)
I’ll let you get back to your wizardy stuff now, Haz.
Lots of love,
(Y/n) xoxo
P.s. your magical secret is safe with me. promise.
Harry looked up from your letter with a dazed smile, your new little owl was looking at him expectantly, no doubt awaiting her treat, “Good job, Astra. Your owner says she’s very proud of you,” he informed her, handing her a piece of bacon from his breakfast plate and laughed when she hooted happily.
Astra is a gorgeous little tawny, she has brown and white feathers that were fluffy to the touch. Harry could already tell she was well suited to you though, she was friendly as anything with the most curious eyes he’d ever seen.
“Whose it from?” Ron grunted from beside him, munching happily on his huge breakfast.
Harry let out a short laugh, digging into the envelope to pull out the photos and sweets you’d sent, “(Y/n).”
“I thought she didn’t know about you?” Hermione asked from beside Ron, Harry only shrugged.
“She figured it out. She’s quite clever, I think you’d like her Hermione. She says hi by the way.” He answered somewhat distantly, distracted by the pictures you’d sent, all of which had writing on the backs. He paused on one photo, he guessed one of your parents had taken it, you were stood in the woods, surrounded by trees with a huge smile on your face, your eyes were closed and your nose was scrunched up as a very tiny Astra seemed to be nibbling at your ear affectionately.
“I’m sure we’d get along, I admire her determination, really. And she even bought an owl?” The girl questioned, reaching over and petting Astra gently.
Harry’s smile was gentle as Astra hopped onto his shoulder, “Yeah, suppose she did.”
“Alright! I’m gonna say it!” George Weasley exclaimed, plucking the photo of you from Harry’s grasp, he held it between himself and Fred, the older twin had somehow swiped the letter you’d written. “Harry’s girlfriend back home is quite cute, don’t you think, Freddie?” Fred nodded resolutely, pushing the letter into George’s face as he pointed towards a specific line.
“I have to agree and look, Georgie, she told Harry to tell us that she says hi! Ugh, such a darling,” Fred fake swooned and Harry felt his face heat up while George made kissy faces.
“She’s not my girlfriend.” Yeah, you had opened Harry up to a whole new world of teasing yet somehow he didn’t mind.
“Oi, do you think she’d like some of our Weasley products?” George asked genuinely, wiggling his eyebrows. Harry shuddered at the thought of you getting a hold of anything that Fred and George had created, because yes, you would like some magical pranking products. You had quite a talent for mischief, only in Harry’s worst nightmares would the Weasley twins ever get their hands on you.
Harry shrugged his shoulders nonchalantly, “Dunno.”
“She single?” Fred asked jokingly and Harry scrunched his face up. He supposed you were single, though, he’d never really pictured you with anyone. He felt quite protective over you, but he supposed he'd like to see you happy with someone he approved of- or alternatively; anyone but Dudley.
“Think so,” Harry told him with another shrug before a cheeky grin spread across his lips, as he focused his attention on the twins who were nudging each other in mock victory, “Why? Should I write home and tell her the esteemed Weasley twins have a crush on her?”
George was the first the speak, he nodded, completely serious and Harry found himself worrying that perhaps one of the Weasley twins would get his hands on you.
“Yes. Absolutely,” Fred snorted and said no more, allowing his younger twin to continue the girl based antics seeing as Fred’s actual crush, Angelina, had started to glare. “In fact, give her my name. Tell her to write to me next time, eh?”
Harry’s eyes widened, oh Merlin, George was serious.
“Oh sod off, would you? The poor girl is a muggle, she’d throw herself off the astronomy tower if she got stuck with either of you prats.” Ron said through a laugh, none of them could deny it was quite funny, even Hermione had to bite back a smile at the chaos your simple letter had caused.
Around two weeks had passed until Astra returned to you, two letters attached to her leg this time.
You greeted her with a warm smile as she landed on the inside of you window, “Welcome home, pretty lady! Did you have a nice trip?” You cooed, patting her feathers and giggling when she nuzzled her head against your fingers. Having a magical owl as a pet was weird, but still, you seemed to be managing her okay.
Astra hooted happily, as if informing you that she did, in fact, have a nice trip. “That’s good! Let me take these letters off and you can have a well deserved rest, I’ve made a nice nest up for you,” you rambled softly as you untied the string that was holding the letters to her leg.
Astra hooted, hopping onto your arm and allowing you to place her on the plush pile of pillows and blankets which she immediately made herself comfortable upon, once again hooting in content when you placed a handful of treats in front of her.
You assumed that both letters were from Harry until you noticed the messy handwriting that covered one of the envelopes, handwriting that definitely didn’t belong to Harry. Besides, never, even in the furthest reaches of your imagination, would your best friend ever refer to you as; “Harry’s Pretty Neighbour”. You set that one to the side for the time being and focused on the letter you knew to actually be from Harry.
Dear (Y/n),
Hi. Sorry I didn’t tell you I was a wizard. If it makes you feel better I was actually planning on telling you this summer, but thank you for saving me from that conversation. I miss you too (only a tad). I hope you’re having a good school year so far, it’s been pretty chaotic here but I promise I’ll tell you every single tiny detail when we see each other at the end of May!
Did Astra get home okay? She’s a really lovely owl, she took quite a liking to George who (terrifyingly) has taken quite a liking to you. He’s been badgering me all week for “permission” to write to you, in his words, “just to say hello.” I think you’d actually get along but he and the rest of his family are very magic oriented, I’d be surprised if he didn’t scare you away… the pair of you together would be my worst nightmare. Don’t even get me started on how I’d feel if Fred was in the mix too. I’m tired just thinking about it.
Thank you for the sweets they were lovely, I put a chocolate frog in the envelope for you, it’s a really popular sweet in the wizarding world- don’t freak out when it hops, it’s just a charm the frog isn’t really alive.
I enjoyed the pictures too, I put a few in this letter for you too, the polaroid is running out of film but it should be enough to keep me going until the end of term.
Write to me again soon, I like hearing from you.
Take care,
Harry.
P.S. I’m really sorry you had to kiss Dudley, I’ll do something to make it up to you. Promise.
P.P.S. If George OR Fred manage to write to you PLEASE don’t eat anything they give you.
With a laugh you set the letter down beside you. Curiously, you reached a hand into the ivory envelope and pulled out the peculiarly shaped chocolate box as well as the polaroids. You viewed the photos with a fond smile, Harry always looked so happy, even with whatever chaos was happening around him. Wizard school definitely made your best friend the happiest he’d ever been.
Opening the next letter, which you now guessed judging by Harry’s letter, came from George Weasley, Harry’s friend Ron’s older brother. That was all you knew about him. You let out a gasp once you opened the seal, a small show of tiny fireworks shot out, exploding in balls of reds and oranges across your bedroom before they disappeared as if they’d never been there in the first place.
Slightly frazzled, yet amazed, you cautiously plucked the letter from the envelope and began reading.
Hello, Harry’s Pretty Neighbour.
I hope you enjoyed the show, hopefully it didn’t startle you too much… I’m not exactly sure what muggles are used to… if it did scare you I’m sorry.
Anyway, just wanted to say hi. Promised Harry I wouldn’t spook you, he’s quite protective of you, you know. It’s very sweet.
I don’t blame him, though. If I had a friend as pretty as you I’d be protective too ;)
Don’t break my heart, write back?
Yours truly,
George Weasley x
And that had been the start of it. Two years had passed since you’d discovered the wizarding world and it seemed as though things had simultaneously gotten worse and better. As it turns out, your lifelong best friend was some sort of prophetic hero in the wizard community and on top of that it seemed that there was a war brewing that he would be expected to lead.
Of course, you were completely useless as you don’t possess the ability to perform magic which also means you're at risk of being hate crimed by some classist, wizard, blood supremacists? You weren’t sure. But Harry was worried.
You’d been writing back and forth to a few of Harry’s Hogwarts friends (your friends now too) for a long while now, you’d even gotten a chance to finally meet them when you’d gone with the Dursleys to collect Harry from King’s Cross Station.
You got along best with Hermione seeing as she was raised similarly to yourself and Harry. However, of all of Harry’s school mates, you liked George the most. Everyone could have predicted it really, you’d been writing to each other constantly and the second you’d clapped eyes on each other in the flesh he’d broken out in a run to crush you in a hug. Harry had groaned at the sight of the pair of you, smiling widely at each other, seeming to slot together perfectly. He had to laugh about it now though, if things went well with Ginny he supposed you’d probably end up being his sister-in-law, assuming his predictions of George falling completely in love with you were correct (they were, he knew).
All air of laughter or wizard/muggle romances was gone at the moment however. You and Harry sat alongside each other, your hand holding his loosely between the swings you were sat on, he’d be going into his 5th year at Hogwarts soon, he’d yet to recover from the last. He’d made a friend only for that friend to be killed right in front of him. He’d almost been murdered himself for God’s sake.
“If you don’t feel safe, Haz… maybe, I don’t know? Don’t go back?” You suggested weakly, knowing he’d never do such a thing. As you expected, Harry shook his head and looked at you solemnly.
“Can’t. Not now that he’s back.” With a sigh you squeezed his hand.
“They should be paying you for this, you know,” Harry chuckled then, squeezing your hand in return.
“I’m doing this for you too. To keep you safe.” He admitted and you sighed miserably.
“I wish I could be of more help.” Harry scoffed, his green eyes shining with pure disbelief as he stared at you.
“More help? (Y/n) you must be joking…” he trailed off as you shook your head, you weren’t joking, you hated that you couldn’t help Harry through this, for once you knew there was nothing you could do to improve the situation in any way that would make an impact, “Oi. Look at me,” Harry demanded, no trace of the usual awkward sarcasm to be heard when he spoke.
You let your eyes meet his again and watched how they seemed to soften when he took in how utterly defenceless you looked, “If it hadn’t been for you, the first ten years of my life would’ve been an even worse hell than they already were. You were the only good thing and you’re still the only good thing about being back in this place.”
He watched sadly as your eyes fell to the floor again, “Besides, the sooner we get this mess with Voldemort sorted out, the sooner you and George Weasley can navigate the whole muggle/wizard romance thing.”
At his statement you barked out a laugh and Harry let himself smile too, “Shut up, Potter. S’not like that.”
Harry laughed then too, “Oh it is so like that, (N/n).”
“It so isn’t.” You grumbled, but your little smile confirmed to Harry that it absolutely was like that.
“Okay. Fine, please then do tell, what is going on between you and the infamous George Weasley?” Harry challenged, revelling in the way your cheeks burned with embarrassment. He let out a low chuckle when you shrugged shyly and kicked the stones beneath your feet.
“I don’t know… We write to each other a lot, and I think he’s really interesting and funny and sweet and of course I think he’s fit. But, I don’t know,” you bit your lip as Harry listened to you, he found it quite endearing. “I just don’t see how it would work. I like him, yeah, but…” Harry scoffed again as you trailed off. He hated seeing you feeling so insecure, Harry was clueless about a lot of things, but he knew exactly how much his best friend was worth- more than all the gold in Gringott’s.
“Ok as your best mate, and as someone who is very close with the Weasley family, I’m telling you that he’s mad about you. All he ever does is ask me about you, Fred is completely sick of him. He’s even told Molly about you, which is truly a commitment believe me,” Harry started, growing more content with the more bashful you became, “And didn’t he write to you just before the Yule Ball to tell you that he was going with Katie Bell as a friend but he wanted to tell you just incase you heard it from someone else and he didn’t want you to get the wrong idea?” Finally, you were back to fighting a smile.
“Yeah he did.”
“Well there you go. But seriously he hasn’t dated or even so much as looked at anyone else since he met you. Which I’ll be honest is super annoying for me but you deserve someone who thinks you hung the stars in the sky.”
A mock gasp left your lips and you released his hand to place it over your chest in faux hurt, “You mean to tell me you don’t think I hung the stars in the sky? I’m hurt, Harry. I think I’ll have to rat you out to Mrs. Weasley.”
Harry laughed but the lighthearted atmosphere didn’t last long before Dudley had shown up with his little gang of bullies, all of whom made fun of Harry’s nightmares.
It was then things had taken a turn for the worst, the sky turned black and storm clouds completely blocked out the previously scorching sun. You looked to Harry for answers but he seemed to be seeing something that you couldn’t, all you knew was that it had become unbearably cold, a feeling of misery making a home in your bones as Harry rushed to pull you to your feet.
“Run! Come on!” He shouted, clutching your hand tightly in his and sprinting through the neighbourhood until you, Harry and Dudley found yourselves struggling to catch a breath in a graffiti covered tunnel.
A terrified yelp left your throat as what you’d been running from revealed itself to you.
Several floating, cloaked shadowy figures swooped into the tunnel on both sides, their hands decaying and boney, their presence leaving you with the feeling that you’d never know positively ever again.
Harry had effectively used his body to cage you against the wall of the tunnel, his back pressed firmly against your chest, your own back pressed to the cold concrete wall, his wand was at the ready as the creatures approached rapidly.
“Don’t look at them.” Harry instructed, protecting you first as you watched in horror as one of the creatures seemed to be ripping Dudley’s essence straight out of his body.
It only took Harry a few painfully long seconds to take care of the creature in front of the pair of you, you’d wished you’d taken his advice and buried your head in his shoulder so you wouldn’t see the monstrous creatures before you, yet, you couldn’t seem to tear your eyes away from Dudley.
The rest happened in a blur, Harry had yet to let go of your hand as it (and your entire body) shook violently. Demontors broke even the strongest of wizards, Harry knew that as a muggle who’d never seen a magical creature, other than an owl, you’d react negatively.
“If it makes you feel any better, I used to faint every time I saw a dementor.” You nodded numbly, giving Dudley a side glance of concern while he mumbled incoherently to himself.
“Is he alright?” You questioned meekly, voice shaking. You were still freezing and the all too familiar feeling of uselessness didn’t do anything to help you regain your inner warmth.
Harry nodded, “He will be.”
“The ministry will be after my head for using magic outside of school,” he told you after a few minutes, squeezing your hand lightly for the umpteenth time, “So I’m gonna have to go away for a while. Probably tonight. Eat some chocolate, it should stop the shaking.” He told you, you hadn’t even noticed you’d reached Privet Drive.
“And they won’t-“ your breath got caught in your throat and your eyes filled with fear, “The dementors. They won’t come back, will they?”
Harry shook his head, “No. But come on, we should get you inside before the ministry shows up and tries to obliviate you.” His final words came out as more of a mumble than an actual sentence as he passed a bumbling Dudley over to Petunia and Vernon before steering you down your own driveway.
“You better not have broken her too, boy!” You vaguely registered Vernon’s voice shouting in your and Harry’s direction.
Your parents were away on holiday at the moment, in Spain. They’d wanted you to come but you hadn’t wanted to miss Harry’s visit, so when you shakily managed to open the door the house was completely dark, you weren’t sure at what point night had fallen.
Harry closed the door behind himself and made his way into your kitchen, the boy rifled through your sweet press before his hand finally settled on what he was looking for. A triumphant sort of yell left his lips as he pulled a bar of chocolate out of the cupboard.
While Harry tossed the bar onto the counter and busied himself with boiling the kettle, you stood in the hallway still, completely rigid.
“Come on, (Y/n). Sit down.” He urged gently, not turning around. Wordlessly, you fully entered the kitchen and slid into a chair facing Harry.
“Don’t you have better things to be doing than making me tea?” You wondered, setting your hands on the table and fidgeting with your icy fingers. Obviously, you appreciated Harry’s fussing but with the way he was talking about the ministry earlier you were sure he had more important things to worry about.
Harry only faced you once he was finished making your tea. He carried the hot cup and the previously discarded bar of chocolate over to you, he placed them both on the table before giving you a hard look, “I’m looking after you first. I’ll deal with everything else later.”
“I used to be the one who took care of you.” You said through a sigh, taking a sip of the hot tea and slumping against your seat as you began to heat up on the inside again.
Harry let out a low chuckle, “Oh how the tables have turned.”
“I liked it better the other way.” You complained, munching on a square of chocolate.
“Trust me, so did I,” Harry groaned, standing up and placing a comforting hand on your shoulder, “Don’t worry though, (N/n). Have a sneaking feeling that you’ll be looking after me again soon enough.”
You patted the hand he had clamped on your shoulder in appreciation, “Thank you, though, for looking after me.”
“Course. I better go. I don’t want you getting roped into anything else tonight,” he said with a sad smile and you nodded in understanding, “We probably won’t see each other for a while but I’ll write. Is Astra back from Cecilia's yet?” Celillia is the witch you’d gotten Astra from in the first place, the pair of you had kept in touch and she’d recently offered to try and teach you some basic divination skills, she claimed that, “Being a wizard isn’t exactly a requirement” and you desperately needed something, anything, to make you feel more connected to your friends in the wizarding world. You supposed you’d need to plan a trip to her cottage soon, after tonight you definitely needed some of her wisdom.
“No, not yet. She flew straight there from the burrow so I suppose she’s probably resting,” you informed him distantly, still clutching his hand, “You’ll be careful, won’t you?”
Harry squeezed your shoulder and let out a deep breath, “I’ll try my best. Promise,” with that he lifted his hand from your shoulder and extended his pinky to you, you gladly linked it with your own. Harry noted, very gratefully, that the warmth had now returned to your hands and you’d stopped shaking so violently.
“Send me a letter once Astra gets back, alright? I’ll keep you updated on what’s going on over on my side.” You agreed before walking Harry to the door, hugging him tightly and watching as he approached the Dursley’s front door.
As predicted, Harry, George, Hermione and Cecillia had let you know that the wizarding world was crumbling fast. Admittedly you were worried about your wizard friends, but Cecillia had done a great job of keeping you distracted by keeping you buried under heaps of divination books, tarot cards and crystal guidebooks. As it turns out, though, you had quite the talent for making accurate detailed predictions.
“If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were descended from a powerful seer,” she’d written to you in awe after you’d managed to predict exactly how a date of hers would go without missing a single detail.
Reading tarot cards quickly became one of your favourite hobbies to indulge in when you weren’t in school. You’d made the mistake of telling George about it in a recent letter, Harry already knew and he also knew that there was no point telling you that he didn’t have a heap of faith in divination. George however was having a field day with the new information.
The older boy teased you at every chance he got, but it was all in good fun as in every letter he sent, you’d find a page that he’d ripped out of his own divination book, the pages would be crinkled and have messy notes scribbled along the margins, with explanations over words that he knew you wouldn’t understand as a muggle. They were actually really helpful. Aside from all the teasing he found it quite endearing that you were trying to get familiar with some form of magic. Even if it was a form of magic wizards tended to ridicule.
He’d been quite worried about you, Harry told him about the dementors and how you’d been quite shaken up after your encounter with them. He’d written to you on a weekly basis, constantly checking in on you, making absolutely sure that no more dementors paid you a visit. He and Harry both kept you up to date with the constant and seemingly never ending rules being imposed upon them by their new headmaster, or headmistress; Delores Umbridge. George also disclosed to you all about his and Fred’s plan to leave Hogwarts and pursue their lifelong dream of opening a joke shop. You had nothing but faith in the twins, really. Your complete faith in them hadn’t stopped you from sending George a handful of crystals that you believed would help his and his shop’s success. He’d teased you relentlessly in each letter since he’d received your package containing citrine, tiger’s eye, amazonite, aventurine and smokey quartz. What he hadn’t mentioned since receiving your little gifts, is that he’d been carrying the five crystals around in their little orange mesh drawstring bag in his pocket everywhere he went. He had to give credit where credit is due and, to be fair to you and your holistic ways, he hadn’t run into any serious obstacles since he started carrying the gems around.
November through June had brought forth a plethora of unfortunate events. You were practically swimming in school work which left you with no time to write to Harry, or even practice tarot. As well as that, you’d been having nightmares, although Cecillia had warned that these dreams could hold some sort of prophesies within them, you highly doubted that though, you weren’t a wizard, only a muggle. Whether prophetic or not, the nightmares plagued you, keeping you up at night or waking you at all hours of the morning.
On one particular morning, you’d awoken with a gasp. Sweat coated your face, soaked your pillow cases and caused your legs to stick to your blankets in a way not even the June heat could've caused. Your heart pounded against your ribcage, tears welled in your eyes, and your body shook as violently as it had the night you’d come face to face with the dementors of Azkaban. The unadulterated fear coursing through your bloodstream suggested that perhaps this bad dream had been something more than simply that.
As fast as you could manage in your panicked state, you dragged your body out of bed and stumbled towards your light switch, flicking it on before haphazardly ripping a sheet out of the refill pad on your desk, grabbing a pen and beginning to scribble down the dream that you could only describe as a warning.
Your laboured breaths stirred Astra from her slumber, the tawny hooted tiredly, hopping out of her cage and fluttering over to your shoulder, settling there as you wrote.
Harry,
I hope this letter reaches you in time. I might sound completely mad but something terrible may be about to happen. I’ve been having these horrific dreams over the last few months, I didn’t tell you because I didn’t want you to worry but Cecillia suspects they’re premonitions and I’m terrified she may be right. I’ve just woken up, it’s around 2am and if I’m lucky, Astra should get this letter to you before 6am…
Onto the dream, you were there and you were asleep, I was standing by your bed, it was a four-poster sort of thing, the room was decorated in mostly red and gold. You woke up panicked, you looked completely overwhelmed and you began shouting about your Godfather Sirius, about how he was in trouble… From then on I watched the day play out. You, Hermoine, Ron, Ginny, a boy with brown hair I’ve never met, I think you called him Neville in my dream, and a blonde girl- Luna I think you called her, you all went to the ministry to rescue Sirius and find some kind of prophecy. Harry you have to listen to me, you mustn’t go, it’s a trick, Voldemort planted it in your head and if you go you’ll only put Sirius in harm’s way. But, knowing you, you’re gonna go anyway… so here’s my advice: keep your eyes open for the witch Bellatrix. Keep Sirius away from the veil and please please please, be careful.
I’m heading to Cecillia’s cottage for the day and maybe even the next couple of days, send Astra there when you find time to write back.
I hope I’m wrong but if I’m not; good luck, Harry. I love you and if you don’t look after yourself the dark lord will be the least of your worries.
Lots of love,
Y/n.
Folding up the letter and placing it in a stray envelope, you addressed it and gently tied it to your loyal owl’s leg. “I’m gonna need you to go as fast as you can to get this to Harry, okay Astra?” She hooted with what you guessed to be determination before she set off, out into the night. Thankfully for you, now that your owl was occupied, you knew Cecillia owned a telephone so you’d have no problems contacting her. While writing to Harry, you’d left out a few details about the dream. You conveniently forget to mention that you’d watched his only remaining family member killed at the hand’s of Bellatrix, it had looked so terrifyingly real that your mind couldn’t have possibly conjured it up all by itself. You also failed to mention hearing Harry’s agonising scream as Sirius fell, the noise was nearly deafening. Seeing Sirius, a man you’d only seen in pictures, die and watching your best friend mourn for him was, well, traumatising. There was no way you’d get a wink of sleep for the remainder of the night, so, you quietly tiptoed downstairs and made a call.
The line rang three times before Cecillia’s voice sounded, chirpy as ever despite the late hour, “Hello?”
“Sorry to call so late,” was all you managed, your voice although shaky was immediately identified by the much older witch.
You could nearly see the soft smile on her youthful face as she spoke, “Ah, Y/n my darling, no worries at all! How is my favourite student doing at half two in the morning?”
“Not well, I’ve had another vision. I think you might’ve been right about the dreams being prophetic,” you told her, willing your voice not to crack as the image of your bad dreams crept into your mind once again.
Cecillia let out a gentle hum, “Shall I apparate over? You don’t sound in the highest of spirits, darling.”
“Yes please,” you answered simply and within seconds Cecillia was standing before you, a worried furrow in her brow and her ashy brown hair disheveled from apparating to you in such a hurry. How could she not? You were, after all, her protégé.
“Oh, darling. You look terribly shaken up, come, come, let’s get you some water,” she fretted, guiding you to your kitchen, magically flicking on the light with her wand and filling up a glass of water, with a few flicks of her wrist the glass had floated over to your usual seat at the table, meanwhile Cecillia had stirred you into the wooden chair adjacent the glass.
Wordlessly, the witch peeled your damp hair away from your face and secured it back with a crocodile clip shaped like a huge golden bumble bee, it’s wings adorned with glittering gems. The bee sat comfortably in your hair as Cecillia finally sat down beside you, she made herself comfortable on the kitchen chair, crossing one leg over the other, resting her elbow on the table and using it to prop her cheek up. Her wide green eyes stared at you sympathetically, watching intently as you sipped your water.
“I’m assuming your loyal familiar is sleeping soundly?” She wondered, referring to Astra. You shook your head, simultaneously swallowing a gulp of water before responding verbally.
“I sent her with a letter to Harry, it was more of a warning really,” Cecillia nodded her head, signalling you to go on, “I dreamt of Harry and his friends going to the Ministry of Magic to rescue Sirius Black, but it was a trap. When they got there they were ambushed by dark wizards and Sirius well he…” you trailed off, eyes growing distant and unfocused when the sight of the man being murdered reentered your mind’s eye. A gentle hand on your shoulder pulled you back to the present.
“This one was far worse than the others then?”
You nodded, “It didn’t feel like a dream, cecillia. It was like I was actually standing there but I couldn’t do anything to help though… as per usual,” you muttered bitterly, receiving a harsh squeeze to your shoulder in response.
Cecillia fixed you with a maternal glare, “None of that! You potentially saved a life tonight. And, as I effortlessly predicted since the moment I met you, you’ve got the magical gift of sight,” her hard look melted into something more forgiving as she spoke, “You’re much more than just a muggle. You may have been an extremely late bloomer, but, you’re a witch and a seer at that. A peculiar case indeed, although in the wizarding world stranger things have happened,” the old witch told you proudly, eyes shining with glee as your own filled with confusion.
“How do we know the dream will even come true?” You questioned.
Cecillia simply shrugged and offered you a cheeky grin, “I trust your feelings, darling.”
True to your initial feeling, you hadn’t gotten a wink of sleep, you knew you wouldn’t be able to rest until you found out whether or not your dream had come to fruition. Cecillia remained by your side throughout the night, eventually the sun had risen and your parents descended down the stairs, neither of them were surprised to see Cecillia sitting at the kitchen table. They saw her as an odd woman, very kind and perfectly lovely, but odd. You’d told them that she owned an animal sanctuary and that you’d been volunteering with her, it wasn’t too far fetched really, she had given you an owl after all, not to mention the amount of cats that hung around her cottage.
She explained to your parents that she needed your help at ‘the sanctuary’ for the next few days and that she’d drop you home once the work was finished. It hadn’t been a problem, so you traveled to Cecillia’s cottage after getting dressed and packing an overnight bag (full to the brim with tarot decks and only some clothes).
It was nearly 8 in the evening when Cecillia sauntered into her living room, where you were sitting, sporting a knowing grin, she held a piece of parchment in one hand and an unopened envelope in the other.
Jovially, she plopped herself down beside you, obviously doing her very best to contain a huge grin from forming on her face. Wordlessly, she placed the envelope on your lap with a mere, “For you.”
On the envelope you could tell by the handwriting that it had come from Harry. This was definitely a make or break moment for you. The contents of this letter would either confirm that you did in fact have magic, or, they would be responsible for causing you to experience a seismic amount of embarrassment. Swallowing the lump in your throat you tore the envelope open, freeing the letter and daring to read what was inside.
Dear Y/n,
Your dream was right. And that advice you gave about keeping an eye on Sirius? It saved his life. I suppose I’m mostly writing to say thank you. I’ve got some updates for you too: firstly, it’s finally been confirmed that Voldemort is back so my name is cleared. Secondly, it turns out that Remus and Cecillia are old friends, she contacted him earlier today about your vision and he and Sirius haven’t shut up about how impressive it is. I have a feeling you might be hearing from them soon, The Order now more than ever is in need of a secret weapon and genuine seers are hard to come by. I hate to involve you in this, it’ll probably be dangerous and you know I don’t want to see you hurt, or worse. But having said that, I’m glad we’re in this together now.
Astra got here in good time, by the way, she landed on my window just after I woke up from my vision of Sirius, it was actually quite freaky. I’m taking good care of her so don’t worry, she should be back to you at some point tomorrow.
Hermoine and Ron say hi too. I’m sure you’ll be hearing from George soon, seeing as he and Fred are in the Order… On that note I better get going.
Thank you again for the warning.
See you soon,
Love, Harry.
A bemused smile spread across your lips as you scanned the page, thankful to have finally made a significant difference in Harry’s life. Cecillia was grinning like a cheshire cat beside you, pride shimmering in her emerald eyes. She bumped her arm against yours playfully when you let the letter fall to your lap, “An old friend of mine will be stopping by in a short while. It seems he’d like to get you trained up in some defence against the dark arts.” She told you, still grinning.
“Defence against the dark arts?” You wondered out loud, you were sure you’d heard Harry mention those words to you before, however, the memories were fuzzy.
“Magic to keep you safe from darker magic, the likes of which the Dark Lord and his Death Eaters rely,” she explained darkly. Just then, a loud bang erupted from her open stone fireplace, a bubble of green dissipated as two men stepped less than gracefully onto Cecillia’s faux-fur rug. You recognised them both from your vision. They were Sirius Black and, if you were to take an educated guess, Remus Lupin.
Cecillia wasted no time before she was giddily jumping from her seat to greet the pair who had just appeared in her sitting room.
“Remus! Oh, how wonderful to see you!” She all but squealed, pulling the tall man into a hug and ruffling his already messy hair.
He reciprocated the hug with a gentle chuckle, “It’s nice to see you again, Cece. It’s been far too long,” he pulled away and the pair of them shared a fond smile before simultaneously looking to Sirius. “I trust you remember Sirius?” Lupin asked, almost rhetorically.
Sirius let out a booming laugh at that, “She could never forget me, now could you, Cece?” Cecillia rolled her eyes, and with a look of endearment nearly tackled Sirius into an embrace.
Seeing the woman who was essentially your magical mentor so overjoyed was lovely, Cecillia was jolly at the best of times but you’d never seen her quite like this. Her happiness added to your sense of helpfulness, Sirius Black was obviously important to more than just Harry, if the smile on the free-spirited witches face was anything to go by. Although you were ecstatic for the three witches and wizards before you, you couldn’t help but feel like you were imposing on an intimate reunion.
Awkwardly you cleared your throat, successfully bringing the trio’s attention onto you as you stood by the sofa, smiling unsurely. If it was even possible, all three of their smiles broadened when their gazes landed on you.
“Am I right in assuming that this is my guardian angel?” Sirius asked, separating from Cecillia.
Cecillia nodded, filled with pride, “And isn’t she just the loveliest guardian angel you’ve ever seen?” She gushed, half seriously.
You offered Sirius a bashful smile, along with a nod of greeting, “I’m glad to see you’re alright,” you told him.
His grin stayed fixed in place but he raised a single eyebrow in confusion, “Glad? And yet you’ve never met me before now…” his tone was laced with inquisition, as if he wanted to figure out what ulterior motive you could possibly have for caring about a stranger you’d only ever seen in a dream.
It didn’t take a seer or a psychic to see what Sirius was after, so you simply answered him truthfully, “No, we’ve never met, but you’re still a person, I watched that woman kill you, it was horrible, nobody deserves that. As well as that; I know how much you mean to Harry and what sort of best friend would I be if I didn’t try to help him keep his last family member safe?” Sirius nodded approvingly at your reply, looking between Remus and Cecillia.
“She remind you of anyone?” The black haired man asked in a low chuckle, Remus snickered and Cecillia bit back a grin.
The witch made her way back to your side and wrapped an arm around your shoulder, jostling you ever so slightly when she noticed your vaguely worried expression, “Don’t worry, darling, you just remind us of one of our most treasured school friends, I promise I will tell you all about it later. But for now, I believe Sirius was about to thank you for saving his life?” She prompted, waiting expectantly.
Sirius cleared his throat and straightened his posture before outstretching his arm, offering you his hand which you took firmly in your own. His voice was steady, strong and genuine when he spoke, “I am truly thankful for what you did for not only me but Harry today. I’m extremely proud of my godson for aligning himself with such a strong, powerful and wonderfully loyal young lady.”
“How sweet,” Cecillia cooed, before guiding you to the kitchen, “Come now, boys, kettles on- we have a lot to discuss!” She called over her shoulder.
There certainly had been a lot to discuss. The Order of the Phoenix thought having a seer at their disposal would be extremely beneficial in the upcoming war, the issue was; you are not yet of age and some members of the group didn’t wish to involve a child in their battle. Sirius, Remus and Cecillia made it abundantly clear that if you desired to join the Order, you were more than welcome but you would be welcomed under certain conditions. Those conditions being that your membership be kept under wraps and not disclosed to any muggles, meaning your parents.
“To keep them safe and to give you an escape route if things get too messy, even with the level of magic you’ll have gained by the time the war is in full swing, as a muggle born you’ll most likely need to flee quickly,” Remus explained, though it didn’t make much sense.
“Wouldn’t it be easier to run if my parents knew what we were running from? They’re open minded people, I’m sure they’d understand,” you attempted to reason, the trio but exchanged yet another loaded look with each other.
Cecillia placed a gentle hand on your shoulder, “We have a contingency plan in place, darling. Nothing you need to worry about for right now,” she reassured, easing your nerves a tad. “You trust me don’t you?” She followed up, her tone slightly stonier, more serious. You nodded your head certainly in response, there was no doubt about it; you trusted the witch with your life. “Then,” she began again, a somewhat chastising look on her face, “Trust that I will not allow a single hair on your head to be harmed.” This rule also extended to wizards not in the Order, which meant that when in the magical world, you were to air on the side of extreme caution.
Relating to that, another condition was that, at all times in the magical world, you were to be accompanied by an of age member of the Order. According to Sirius, who your were growing to like more by the second, he was going to arrange for a member of the Order to bring you to Diagon Alley in the morning to get you a wand. The prospect of having a wand of your own was terribly exciting, once again though, you found yourself wondering if you had it in you to properly wield one, or wield one at all for that matter. You were too exhausted to fret for too long, so the thoughts about magic levels and your own capabilities were only fleeting. Once all of the serious chat dissipated into friendly chatter, you managed to slip away from the table at which you were all sat. Making your way back to the sitting room, you tucked yourself into the corner seat of Cecillia’s old and very comfortable sofa, pulled your knees against your chest, wrapped your arms around them and rested your cheek against your knee. Slowly and deeply, you began to breathe in and out, fiddling with the amazonite bracelet that adorned your wrist in order to quell your ever growing anxiety. For a few sweet minutes you indulged in the calm silence, meditating peacefully in your comfy seat until a soft knock sounded from the doorway. When your eyes fluttered open they were met with the image of Sirius Black, leaning casually against the frame of the door, a hand plunged deep into his trouser pocket and another flipping a stray tarot card between his fingers. His eyes were focused on yours as he spoke, “I hope I’m not interrupting.”
You shook your head and patted the seat beside you, “‘Course not, come sit.”
The man chuckled but obliged, settling in the spot beside you and offering you the card he’d previously been fiddling with.
“The ten of swords,” you identified easily, “I assume you’ve been feeling quite overwhelmed if this card found its way to you.”
Sirius hummed, “CeCe tells me that you’ve a penchant for card reading. I was rubbish at divination back at Hogwarts, only took it because I thought it’d be easy but I could never get my head around it,” he reminisced, an airy laugh slipping from his lips.
“If you don’t mind me asking, who were you all talking about earlier when you asked if I reminded Cecilia and Remus of anyone?” He let out a deep sigh before fixing you with a soft smile.
“An old school friend of ours, she was more than a friend to me, but that’s a story for another time,” he started, staring out into the empty space before him a melancholy grin on his lips, “She was fiercely loyal to her friends, if she wanted to help there was absolutely nothing that would stop her from doing so. I know I don’t know you very well, but from what I heard today and the way in which you’ve been described to me by Harry; I can see her in you,” he finished, bumping his shoulder with yours and forcing a happy smile onto your lips which mirrored Sirius’.
“What’s her name?” You asked.
“Her name was Marlene,” Sirius answered.
Your heart dropped with his use of past tense, “Was?”
Sirius bowed his head slightly and began to twist the rings that adorned his slender fingers, “She was killed during the first war,” he told you, making eye contact once again, a grave expression on his face as he continued, “I saw your apprehension earlier when we brought up the topic of secrecy, but you must understand that during the first war we lost so many who were dear to us, keeping you in our back pocket will ensure that you aren’t harmed in the face of this war, if any dark wizards hear so much of a whisper of a muggleborn seer they will stop at nothing to eliminate you,” he paused for a brief second, never breaking eye contact, the gravity of the situation heavy on your chest your fingers absentmindedly found your amazonite bracelet once again. Your movements were halted when Sirius placed his large hand over yours, squeezing it warmly while staring at you determinedly, “You saved my life today, Y/n. So believe me when I tell you that I will stop at nothing to keep you safe,” he promised and you squeezed his hand in return.
“I know,” he smiled as he watched your eyes return to the ten of swords and your grin broadened with the sort of mischief he’d only ever seen in four people; James Potter, Marlene McKinnon and Fred and George Weasley. “I have a prediction for you.”
Sirius entertained you fondly, a mischievous air that reminded him of when he was your age surrounding the pair of you, “By all means, do tell.”
“I predict,” you paused for emphasis, “that we are going to be very good friends.”
Sirius let out a booming laugh of which the volume he couldn’t control, “That is a prediction I truly hope will come to fruition.”
“Oh no, this is a duo that spells trouble,” Cecillia giggled to Remus as they entered the sitting room.
Remus looked between you and Sirius with a grin, “With a mentor like you, Cece, I’m not surprised Y/n has a taste for mischief,” the ruffled wizard teased, receiving a gentle elbow to the ribs from your mentor.
“Oi, if you’re going to blame my beloved girl’s mischief on anyone you better blame it on a certain Weasley twin,” she said, wiggling her eyebrows and causing the boys to smile giddily like teenagers.
Sirius bumped your shoulder again, this time with a faux-scandalised smile, “A Weasley twin, eh? Come on then, which one?” You blushed heavily and cleared your throat in an attempt to alleviate the embarrassment filling your being.
“He’s just a friend!”
“Mhm. A friend that sends her annotated pages from his divination text book,” Cecillia sang and Sirius snickered.
“Whichever one it is must be quite taken with you if you made him actually crack open a textbook.”
“Annotations are quite intimate,” Remus half teased although you could see he believed what he’d just said, “I bet it’s George,” he directed the bet at Sirius who carefully observed the way you bit your lip and bashfully looked towards the wooden floor.
“I think you’re right, moony. Now!” He stood suddenly and pointed a finger at Remus expectantly, “We best get going and arrange Y/n’s accomplice for tomorrow’s field trip,” he wiggled his eyebrows before turning his head to face you again, he shot you a wink and you couldn’t stop the airy laugh that left your mouth at his lighthearted antics.
Remus gave Cecillia a one armed hug, “we’ll be seeing you both tomorrow then, it was lovely to meet you, Y/n, perhaps next time Sirius will allow me to get a word in,” he chuckled and Sirius responded by throwing his arm around your shoulder.
“I better get off, this husband of mine is growing jealous,” he told you in a teasingly hushed whisper.
Your eyes widened and you looked between the two men, “You two are married?”
A love struck smile took over both of their faces which immediately gave you your answer. “We’re engaged,” Sirius clarified before pulling you into a proper hug, “Get a good night's sleep, we’ll be sending an order member to collect you early tomorrow morning so you can be in and out of Olivander’s before a crowd can build,” he told you while giving you an affectionate squeeze, you could’ve laughed when you realised that it felt like you’d known Sirius forever but you also could’ve cried when you relived the image of him losing his life and realised that just because it was over and prevented didn't mean it hadn’t still transpired in your mind’s eye, you didn’t let that show on your face though.
“I’ll make sure I’m well rested,” you promised.
With that, Sirius bid Cecillia goodbye, and he and Remus left the way they’d came.
The rest of the night had been spent with Cecillia telling you story after story about her school days and the trouble she’d caused with Sirius, Remus, James and Lily Potter, Harry’s parents, and another boy who she only referred to as “the rat”. Though the tone of the stories were completely lighthearted, they weighed on your chest with a sense of such tragedy. A huge majority of their friends were killed young because of the war, a war that was now waging once again. It led you to wonder who’d be lost to this one, if perhaps you’d be on the list of names that Harry or Cecillia or George would speak about fondly with a dense undertone of sorrow in the years after the second war had long since been won. It was a risk you were willing to take though, the notion of fighting for a deserving cause filled you with a sense of purpose, a purpose you’d been searching for for years. More than that, you felt important. You were needed. An asset. You would actually be of some help.
True to your word, you’d been getting a good night’s rest. The bed in Cecillia’s spare room was the comfiest thing you’d ever come across, though, as you began to stir from your deep slumber you couldn’t recall the empty side of the double bed being quite so dipped.
Slowly and begrudgingly, you cracked your eyes open to see Cecillia smiling tiredly at you in the light of dawn, “Morning, darling. Sorry about the early start, I’ve made you some tea,” she greeted quietly so as to not disturb the peace of the early morning. She held two ceramic mugs, one in each hand and passed you the steaming cup that was hand painted green, keeping the brown one for herself. Tiredly, you patted the spot beside you and pulled the quilt to the side, inviting the witch into the warm bed. She happily slid in, pulling the quilt over her and chuckling quietly when you dropped your head onto her robed shoulder and began to sip the tea she’d made. Cecillia rested her head against yours and sipped on her own tea.
“Are you excited for today?” She asked and you hummed.
“I’m having mixed emotions,” you stated, “I’m excited to see everything, but I’m sort of nervous that I won’t have enough magic to even get a wand,” Comfort spread through your chest when Cecillia pressed her lips to the crown of your head.
“The wonderful thing about wands, lovely, is that the wand picks the wizard,” she began, “so whatever wand you end up with will accentuate the level of magic inside you. Its power will grow as yours does and you’ll soon come to realise that you couldn’t imagine wielding anything else,” her voice was wistful and her eyes shined with wonder as she recalled how it felt to bond to a wand.
“What do you think mine will be like?” You wondered, excitement awakening in you thanks to Cecillia’s encouraging words.
The witch took an exaggerated slurp of her tea before answering, “Something curious,” was all she said.
“Insightful,” you murmured and she shrugged unapologetically, her chaotic energy exuding now that she’d started to wake up fully. “What time is it anyway?”
“Half six, your chaperone should be arriving at seven and Olivander’s opens at eight,” she told you before shimmying out of bed, you whined in the absence of your head rest. “You better get dressed. Wear something nice, rumour has it that your tag along is quite the eligible bachelor,” she wiggled her eyebrows and all but floated out of the spare room. It was practically your room by now though, over the years since you’d gotten Astra and met Cecillia you’d stayed in the room on countless occasions. Cecillia embodied something that was something between a second mother, a spiritual mentor, a teasing older sister and a slightly kooky aunt.
“Oh? So do you reckon I should brush my hair then?” You jokingly called out after her only to receive a harsh scoff.
“Absolutely not! Don’t be desperate!” You barked out a laugh at her response, shaking your head and getting ready for the day ahead.
You were just about finished getting ready when a familiar bang sounded from the sitting room. Taking a deep breath, you gave yourself one last look over in the mirror, happy with the outfit you’d chosen, you made your way towards the sitting room to come face to face with your surprise chaperone for the day.
When you shuffled into the sitting room, a smile immediately stretched across your lips upon seeing who had been appointed to stick by your side for the day, “George!” His name left your mouth in a squeal that would’ve been embarrassing had you not been so excited to see him. It’d been upwards of a year since the last time you’d seen George in the flesh and although you’d seen each other in photos and written to each other at a rate that was almost excessive, the prospect of spending time together in person was, for lack of a better word; magical.
George drew his attention away from the framed pictures that lined Cecillia’s fireplace to see you standing in the doorway, looking as bright as the newly risen sun and sporting a smile that he couldn’t quite put into words how it made him feel. It only took a second before his own cheek splitting smile grew on his face, and with it left his hopes of impressing you with his cool and collected attitude. You hadn’t given him too much time to dwell on his ruined cool guy facade as you all but threw yourself into his arms. The red head let out an endearing laugh, catching you in his toned arms, wrapping them tightly around your torso. A scarlet blush rising on his ears when he felt your smile against his neck. “Hello to you too,” he chuckled against your ear and you pulled back enough to look at him, your arms still secure around his shoulders.
“Sorry,” you started, the smile that still adorned your lips telling him that you weren’t all that sorry at all, “Hi,” you greeted, bashfully pulling your arms away from him.
The sitting room was quiet for a moment as the pair of you only stared at each other, would it be too much to tell him that you’ve missed him? You didn’t want to come on too strong after such a long time apart, you’d already tackled him into a hug within the first five seconds, but with that came your next internal question of; did you really want to keep this boy on his toes?
George, having already discarded his notion of acting nonchalant with you, bet you to the punch. He rubbed the back of his neck and flicked his gaze to the floor before bringing it back to you, “I’ve missed you.”
A giggle left your lips before you could think about choking it down, you nodded your head, bouncing slightly on the balls of your feet, “Yeah, I’ve missed you too. Sorry I haven’t written, Astra is still with Harry.”
George gave you a grin, “No worries, darling. Heard you’ve been a very busy little psychic lately.”
Darling, you mused internally, the nickname echoing through your head and causing your heart to somersault in a way you’d never really felt before.
“Oh how sweet,” Cecillia sang from the doorway, a wicked grin on her face as she took in the two hopeless blushing messes, staring doe-eyed at each other in the middle of her living room. “I hate to break up the reunion, my dears, but the pair of you really should get going,” she instructed, strutting up to you and holding a cloth pouch in your direction, “Sirius left you some spending money, it’s different than the money you usually use but I’m sure George will have no problem helping you out,” Cecillia shot the boy a wink and he nodded, once again growing bashful.
“Now,” she grew serious, directing her words at George and making him slightly intimidated with her strong eye contact, “You are to be extremely careful. You are not to mention that Y/n is a seer and you are not to draw any attention to the fact that she is a muggleborn, if Mr. Olivander asks, she’s a half-blood who's been living in the states and that’s why she doesn’t have a wand,” you wore a confused expression, George nodded in complete understanding, “Did Sirius give you the list?”
George nodded once again, pulling a folded piece of parchment out of the back pocket of his slightly baggy denim jeans, “May I take a look?” Cecillia asked, already snatching the parchment from George’s long fingers and unfolding the sheet and reading it aloud, “Alright! A wand… seriously? He used a whole page of parchment just to write one thing?” She grumbled, stomping over to the nearest side table, leaning down and began to scribble on the parchment. You looked to George as she wrote, “Why do you have to say I’m from the States?” You asked quietly and George leaned down slightly to be closer to your ear.
“Witches and wizards in America don’t get wands until they’re of age, we get them here when we’re eleven,” just as he was finished offering his explanation, Cecillia walked back over, a hard look on her face that you weren’t used to seeing, though it seemed that the look was reserved for George.
Silently she handed him the parchment before looking to you, hard look dissolving back into her usual playful expression, “Have fun, lovely.” She then turned to George again, apparently having had enough of trying to intimidate the poor boy, she shot him a smile, “You’ll be taking the floo to Diagon Alley, my fireplace is big enough to take the both of you at once,” she handed George a pouch of what looked like green powder, “George knows what to do, now, not to sound like a broken record but do stay safe and have fun,” she finished, ushering the pair of you into her fireplace. You couldn’t lie, it was quite strange, you supposed you should get used to things coming across as strange, you were about to be exposed to the magical wizarding world for the first time after all. In the fireplace, you stood shoulder to shoulder with George, noticing the nervous look on your face, he slid his hand into yours gently. When you looked at him, he kept his face focused on his feet, “Ready, Y/n?” Taking a deep breath you nodded shakily.
“Ready, George.”
At your words, George slammed the green powder onto the ground and shouted, “Diagon Alley!”
You were sure you were going to be sick. Whatever the powder was, it had you spinning at a pace you didn’t know was possible, you had screwed your eyes shut and you were almost certain that you could feel yourself physically moving. It was only when George tugged on your hand that you opened your eyes to see that your surroundings had actually changed. “It’s horrible the first time, but you get used to it,” George said, pulling you by your still intertwined hands onto the cobbled street. The dizziness died down after only a few seconds out in the fresh air, the added sensation of George’s thumb rubbing soothing circles against your hand seemed to do the trick in settling you completely as you took in the street ahead of you. It was dazzling, really. A long cobbled street, lined with shops that looked like they were plucked straight out of a fairytale. As planned, the streets were fairly empty in the early morning as George led you down the path towards the shop where you’d hopefully get your wand. The name “Olivanders” was written above both windows of the dark shop, the words “makers of fine wands since 382 B.C.” were to be seen just above the door. Excitement had completely overridden your nerves and you practically skipped towards the door, George followed casually behind you, his hands tucked into his pockets and a fond smile on his lips.
“I suppose you’re excited then?” He asked teasingly and you didn’t bother trying to hide your obvious childlike wonder as you waited for him to catch up with you.
“It probably seems silly to you, but this morning Cecillia told me all about when she got her wand and it sounded so wonderful,” you told him, smiling when he bumped his shoulder against yours.
“I don’t think it’s silly, I still get giddy thinking about the time Fred and I got wands of our own,” he pushed the door open and motioned for you to step inside, slowly you walked into the empty shop. It was dark and somewhat dingy but there was something very mystically inclining about it, you could feel the energy and it was utterly exhilarating.
“Wow,” you breathed out, spinning where you stood, gazing at the boxes upon boxes that lined the shelves.
Only a minute passed before an old man stumbled to the front of the shop, smiling at the pair of you from behind the counter, “Ah, Mr. Weasley, it’s good to see you, it’s been some time. What can I do for you this morning? I see you’ve brought a friend,” the older wizard greeted and you smiled in response.
“I’m looking for a wand. I’ve been living in the states for the past few years but I just moved home,” you lied easily, George couldn’t help but smirk, what he’d give to have had you around for some of his and Fred’s pranks at Hogwarts.
The old man nodded in understanding, his eyes scanned you, his eyes were scrutinising and you fought the urge to squirm under his gaze, “Interesting. One moment please,” he said, murmuring to himself as he searched the isles for what he was looking for. A small “aha” sounded from within the isles, he was back in front of you within seconds, an open rectangular box in his hand. It was absolutely gorgeous, it resembled a raw tree branch, wood spiralling up its expanse until it stopped at the top, cutting off in a jagged, dull edge. He must’ve noticed how your jaw dropped, how could he not? He hadn’t been able to take his eyes off you since you’d wandered into his shop. He was an old wizard, but he wasn’t naive, he was well aware you weren’t returning from America, he could sense an energy in you that he hadn’t come in contact with in a long time. “Curious, isn’t it?” He prompted you, causing you to let out an airy laugh. Cecillia was going to tease you big time when you got back to her cabin.
“It’s lovely, what is it?” He offered you the box expectantly and you hesitantly picked up the wand with as much care as you possibly could. It was cool against your skin and was heavier than you’d imagined it would be.
“Thirteen inch, oak; cut from the base of a tree, which at the time, was almost six hundred years old,” he explained, watching happily as you ran your fingers along the wands several ridges,”With a phoenix feather core, quite a rare piece indeed. Unfortunately, this particular wand has been extremely difficult to match to a witch. But something tells me that you might be just the witch for the job,” he held your gaze and you once again got the feeling that he knew something he shouldn’t, “Go on, then. Give it a wave,” he prompted and you looked to George for further encouragement. George laughed at your lost expression, pulling his own wand out and pointing it towards the now empty box on the counter, “Like this, love,” he demonstrated, moving his wrist in a semi-circle motion, making the box levitate off the counter.
Another pet name. You ignored the butterflies in your stomach in favour of clearing your throat, squaring your shoulders and pointing your wand at the same box George had just made float, which was now settled back against the counter. Imitating the boy beside you, you moved your wrist in a swift semi-circle. Suddenly, a golden light poured from the tip of the wand and warm air surrounded you, gently blowing your hair back and forcing a laugh of disbelief to leave your lips. George stood wide eyed beside you, his lips parted slightly. He was amazed really, he went through five wands before he found the one that fit him, yet you’d found yours on the first try, and he had to admit; you looked glorious doing it.
After paying for your wand, you exited the shop, looking around George’s side at the list he was holding. From what you could make out, Cecillia had added a number of items to the originally very short list; 1) a wand, 2) a pendulum (crystal of the ladies choice), 3) crystals: labradorite, lapis lazuli & azurite, 4) mugwort, 5) new tarot deck (again, whatever she wants Sirius can afford it ;)).
“Suppose our next stop is the divination shop,” George said, mostly to himself but gave you a mischievous smile, “If we hurry up and get our shopping done fast we could probably get a butterbeer in before we rejoin the rest of the Order,” he sang, grazing his hand against yours as you walked side by side.
“Beer? You seriously want to drink beer at half eight in the morning?” You asked him, your eyebrow raised and he replied with an exaggerated roll of his eyes and draped his arm around your shoulder, pulling you close against his side and once again leaning his head down so his lips were level with your eye.
“No, you git,” he began with a laugh, “It’s not really beer, it’s pretty sweet; most wizards love it.”
You hummed in acknowledgment, “Sounds nice,” you told him absently, preoccupied with all the intriguing shops that surrounded you. George’s arm remained wrapped around your shoulder as you strolled further into Diagon Alley, seemingly uninterested in his offer for a butterbeer. The pair of you got what you needed from the shop and, since it hadn’t taken long, you decided to take George up on his drinks offer. You noticed that he seemed a little bit crestfallen since your noncommittal answer earlier.
“Hey,” you said, bumping your arm against his.
“Hello,” he replied, returning the gesture.
“So… d’you wanna go get one of those beer things that you were talking about earlier?” You asked nervously, your lip between your teeth. For all you knew, asking someone to grab a butterbeer in the wizarding world was the muggle equivalent to proposing.
George flashed you a grin that was almost childlike, it was mesmerising, so sweet and pure and you almost wished you’d brought your camera to take a picture of it. “I thought you’d never ask.”
With a giggle you let him grab your hand and lead you excitedly towards a building that had “The Leaky Cauldron” written above the door. When you got inside, George led you to a small round table with two chairs and you both sat down opposite each other. As casually as you could, you rested your elbow against the table and let your cheek rest against your fist, for a solid few minutes, while George ordered, you curiously looked around the pub until your gaze finally rested on George who was already looking at you with a soft smile, “Having fun?” He asked, genuinely curious.
You nodded your head, “Mhm, are you? I’m sure getting up at the crack of dawn to take me shopping isn’t something someone like you would usually like to do for fun,” you said, becoming slightly self conscious when you realised that he probably wasn’t enjoying the morning as much as you were. This was all normal for him, you’d nearly forgotten.
George gave you a perplexed look, “Course I’m having fun, love. But, what do you mean someone like me?”
You shrugged, once again pushing down the butterflies that arose in your stomach from the pet name, “I dunno, you’re just- you’re mischievous and fun and… I don’t know, shopping for stuff with me doesn’t seem like it’s something you’d want to do. I just hope Sirius didn’t force you into it,” you admitted shyly, smiling gratefully at the waiter when he placed the mugs of golden liquid on the table.
George chewed on his bottom lip for a second before he shook his head, “He didn’t force me. I sort of, well, I sort of forced him to let me take you. He wanted Professor Lupin to do it but I…” he let out an exaggerated sigh before giving you a smile, “I wanted to spend time with you,” he confessed sweetly, watching happily as a smile formed on your lips and you tried to hide it in the rim of your butterbeer. He laughed when your face lit up once the liquid hit your lips, “Like it?”
“This stuff is amazing,” you almost shouted, taking another large sip from the drink, “No wonder you all love it so much.”
George snickered, “Just in case it wasn’t clear; I’m having a lot of fun with you,” he said all too casually, taking a sip of his drink.
“Where to now?” You wondered, after you’d finished your drinks and set off back towards the floo network.
George shot you a cheeky look and wiggled his eyebrows, “I’m taking you back to headquarters.”
“Sounds ominous,” you commented, following him into the fireplace, nervously.
“D’you want a tip?” George asked out of the blue and you looked up at him expectantly, nodding. “The dizziness isn’t as bad if you keep your eyes open,” he whispered, taking your hand once again and throwing down the same green powder from earlier and shouting a new location that you hadn’t heard before. You cringed as the world began to spin, listening to George’s advice hadn’t helped much as the transportation was just as awful as it had been the first time. Unbeknownst to you, you were squeezing George’s hand like your life depended on it, George’s thumb had resumed brushing circles around your hand in response, the harsh squeezing didn’t bother him at all, not when it was you doing the squeezing. Just like earlier, George led you out of the fireplace and into the unfamiliar sitting room. Though the room was completely unfamiliar it was full of faces you immediately recognised, one face in particular standing out above all the rest.
In a second you’d dropped not only George’s hand, but all of your shopping bags to the floor carelessly and hurled yourself towards the boy who had already begun rushing towards you the second he caught sight of you appearing in the fireplace. Your bodies collided with so much force that you nearly sent each other tumbling to the ground, laughter sounded from both of you as you swayed the other, almost roughly, the way you always did when reuniting after an extended period of time.
“Glad to see you in one piece, Harry,” you told him with a cheeky smile on your lips, opting not to call him Haz in front of all of his wizard friends lest they tease him, not to mention you’d become quite possessive of the nickname, you wouldn’t be too pleased if anyone else started adopting it. Not that you’d ever admit that out loud.
“Yeah, you too,” his smile was as wide as could be when he shook his head, “I can’t believe you’re actually here.”
“Do you want me to pinch you?” You teased, jokingly taking his cheek between your thumb and your pointer, giving the skin between them a gentle squeeze. Harry swatted your hand away with a low chuckle and unraveled his arms from around you.
“Alright, you two, if you’re ready we have some matters we need to discuss with our newest member,” Sirius’ voice sounded from behind you, a knowing look on his face as he watched Harry sneakily pinch your arm in retaliation. He had to fight the urge he felt to reminisce on his old school days; when he’d purposely annoy James, Remus or Peter and receive the exact same mockingly vengeful look that you’d just given Harry.
“I’ll bring your things to the kitchen,” George announced, reminding you of his presence before he walked rather quickly out of the room, bags clutched in his hands.
Harry snorted out a laugh when Sirius followed George out of the room, leaving the both of you alone. Harry wiggled his eyebrows and did his best to make his voice take on a sultry tone, “he’s bringing your things to the kitchen.”
“Shut your mouth, Potter,” you replied, pinching his cheek for the second time and tossing your arm around his shoulder, him doing the same as he led you to what you assumed was the kitchen.
“Do I have your permission to open my mouth to tell you something,” Harry asked lightly, stopping so you were both standing outside a closed wooden door.
“I’ll allow it,” you answered, smiling softly at your best friend.
Harry grinned, “I missed you.”
“I missed you too, Haz,” the boy groaned at the name but made no further comment, he pushed the wooden door open and walked inside.
The room held a long table where many adults were sat, chatting in hushed whispers when you entered the room, some of whom you recognised and some you didn’t. Mrs. Weasley was fluttering about the table, filling people’s tea cups before she spotted you. The woman, who you’d only ever met briefly at King’s Cross station one year, rushed over to you and greeted you warmly, “Hello, dear! Come, come sit down!” She ushered you to a vacant chair beside George and across from Fred, Harry took the seat on your other side. “I trust you got everything you needed from Diagon Alley? I hope that son of mine didn’t cause any trouble for you,” you gave her a friendly smile and shook your head.
“Yes, we were able to find what we needed and George was very helpful,” Mrs. Weasley, seemingly satisfied with your answer, offered a gentle smile to you and George. She then pushed a cup of tea towards you before sitting down herself.
Beneath the table George bumped his knee lightly against yours, but didn’t break from his conversation with his twin as he left his knee pressed against yours. You didn’t draw attention to it either, simply letting your knee relax against his as the witches and wizards at the long table grew quiet in favour of staring at you wordlessly.
“I’m sure you’ve all heard the news of the seer we’ve acquired,” Sirius’ commanding voice broke the silence as he stood up from his chair, and placed his palms against the table, “I’ve brought her here today so that we may discuss proceedings to ensure her safety.”
“Yes,” a toneless drawl, drawn out nasally from the end of the table drew your attention to a black haired man at the opposite end of the table, “and what of Mr. Potter’s presence?” He asked, almost menacingly. Right off the bat, you didn’t like the greasy haired man. He was rigid and his face sported a permanent snarl and from across the table you could already tell; he wasn’t on your side.
“She’s my best friend, I’m here to make sure she’s not going to be put in any unnecessary danger,” Harry told the man shortly, in a tone that he’d more than likely perfected after having spoken to the man previously.
“As touching as that may be,” the older man snarled, “you are not a member of the Order.”
“Oh, enough, Serverus,” Sirius scoffed, pulling his hand down his face in exasperation before he let his eyes settle on Harry, “Perhaps you should wait upstairs for now. We’ll let you know of any significant updates.”
“I’ll tell you everything later, promise,” you whispered quietly, linking his pinky with yours beneath the table before he stropily took his leave.
“As I was saying,” Sirius spared Severus a glare and continued, “As we know, Yn is an unregistered wizard with an unregistered wand, meaning she won’t be on the radar of The Ministry of Magic. On the downside of this, seeing as her power manifested late, she is also untrained.”
All gazes fell to you once more, only Remus’ eyes were staring softly, crinkled at the edges from the smile on his lips, “I’ll be tutoring her in Defence Against the Dark Arts over the summer. She’ll catch up quickly, no doubt,” you smiled gratefully at him from your spot, relaxing a bit knowing that you’d actually be learning how to defend yourself the wizard way.
“I suppose I will be tasked with teaching the art of Occlumency? A seer with an easily accessible mind is hardly an asset,” Severus drawled. You didn’t have a clue what occlumency was, in all honesty, but you kept your mouth shut in favour of asking Remus when the meeting was over.
The meeting soon drew to a close, the older Order members slinking to one end of the table to arrange the schedule for your glorified summer school while you, Fred and George snuck away to find Harry. You found him sitting against the headboard of a bed in one of the upstairs bedrooms, “How’d it go?”
“Take a guess, mate, Snape had a right sour look on his face the whole time,” Fred answered, sitting on the bed across from Harry’s. George sat beside him and you made your way to sit with Harry.
“Ah, so that was the infamous professor Snape?” All three boys nodded, looks of exhaustion on their faces, “I don’t trust him. Something is very off about him,” you spoke thoughtfully and the boys nodded in agreement once again.
“I don’t like the idea of you being alone with him,” George said, his brows furrowed.
Fred snorted and clapped his twin roughly on the shoulder, “Getting a bit jealous are you, Georgie?” Harry laughed along with Fred while you blushed lightly and George felt heat rising up the nape of his neck.
“Sod off,” he muttered, but made no attempt to deny that he was slightly jealous of all the alone time his old evil potions professor would be getting with the girl he was harbouring feelings for.
The afternoon quickly turned into the evening and before long you were gathering your things and preparing to return to Cecillia’s. Harry would be heading back to the Dursley’s later that night, much to his dismay. You told him you’d be back on Privet Drive at some point the next morning since Cecillia would be dropping you home, as she promised your parents, so he wouldn’t have to suffer alone for too long.
That summer came and went in a bit of a blur. Two days in each week were spent learning how to protect yourself against the dark arts with Remus. He’s an amazing teacher, that couldn’t be disputed. In the space of only two months he had you duelling like you’d been doing it since the day you were born. Of course, you were thrilled to be bonding with your wand and developing (according to Remus) a very impressive skill for Defence Against the Dark Arts. But, on top of that, the shared conversations and exchanging of stories over hefty mugs of hot chocolate with the werewolf had been a huge highlight of your summer, and had caused the two of you to grow exponentially closer.
September was nearing and with it came a stiff breeze that prompted the hair on your arms to stand alert as you waited by the bus stop, the one just down the road from your house. Today was to be an important lesson with Remus, he hadn’t told you what the lesson would entail, but he had said that it was a charm that was “of the utmost importance”.
Although June, July and August were technically your summer holidays, you’d barely had a second to rest. You were, at this point, running on fumes and sheer will power. Extensively using magic was bound to wear you out, however, getting a good night’s rest after a gruelling training session had become something of a luxury for you. Visions of the future and retellings of past torments plagued your dreams and allowed you no time to rest. One vision in particular had been reoccurring, it arrived every night for the past two weeks, taunting you. The autumn chill that dripped down your spine reminded you of the premonition, having your hairs standing due to fright, rather than cold. It was always the same, no details ever shifted or warped and, unfortunately, the experience never grew any less harrowing. The warning that the vision brought about weighed on you heavily and followed you around like a stray cat. Images of a cold, desolate, blue-hued cellar lived behind your eyes, the phantom feeling of freezing metal shackles weighed on your wrists painfully and the undiluted terror combined with the indescribable agony brought about by the unfamiliar wand shoved against your throat had you forcing yourself to stay awake until you physically couldn’t anymore, each and every night. Nobody knew about the vision, you didn’t want to worry them, though, you knew that your distress was beginning to become visible; dark bags were prominent beneath your eyes, Harry had watched you fall asleep in the middle of the day, often on his shoulder, almost everyday that week and Remus could tell by the sluggish movements of your wand that your mind was elsewhere.
A few minutes passed before your bus arrived, the journey to Grimmauld Place was quite long but you couldn’t seem to warm up to floo travel, so going on a regular bus was the better option. When the red double decker pulled up, you greeted the driver with a smile and paid for your ticket. You made your way up to the second story and sat right at the front. The bus, as it normally tended to be, was empty. Resting your head against the window, you let your eyes slip shut, the noises of tree branches brushing against the speeding windows lulling you into a, hopefully, peaceful sleep.
Thankfully when you woke up, no visions lingered. You woke up just in time too as the bus was rounding up to your stop. As usual, Remus waited for you at the bus stop, his hands shoved deep in his tattered jacket pockets and a gentle smile on his lips.
Still groggy from your nap, when you exited the bus you greeted Remus with a tired wave.
“Dare I say you haven’t been sleeping well, dear?” He said gently, walking alongside you towards the house.
You thought about it for a second, perhaps telling someone wouldn’t be the worst idea in the world. “I’ve just, well, I’ve been having this nightmare,” you started, growing nervous just thinking about it.
“Nightmare or vision?” He pressed as you walked into the house.
Guilt creeped into your chest upon seeing the clear worry on his face, “I think it’s a vision.”
Remus nodded quietly, placing his hand on the small of your back and pushing you in the direction of the living room. He gave you a warm smile, when you sat down on the sofa. He grabbed a blanket that hung over the back of the sofa and draped it over your lap. “I’ll make us some hot chocolate and we can discuss this,” he suggested.
“I thought you had an important lesson for today?” He only shook his head, smiling lightly.
He made his way to the door wordlessly and returned within two minutes with two big, steaming mugs in his hands. Remus handed you a mug and sat down beside you on the sofa, accepting your invitation to pull the blanket over his lap too.
“Now tell me; what has been going on in that wonderful mind of yours?”
You took in a deep breath, staring into the hot chocolate and avoiding his understanding gaze, “It happened for the first time around two weeks ago. I thought that it was just a dream, it didn’t feel like a dream but I thought that if I kept telling myself it was I would start to believe it,” you started, taking a sip of your drink before going back to staring at it, “But it kept coming back. Every night for the last two weeks. I haven’t been able to sleep, I’ve been too scared to,” your voice was small as you made the confession. You hated that the feeling of helplessness was beginning to wash over you yet again.
“What happens in this vision?” At his question, you placed your cup on the floor and turned to face him fully, turning on the sofa and pulling your knees up to your chest.
“It’s always the same. I wake up and the first thing I know is that I’m absolutely freezing. I’m in this cellar-like thing. I’m chained up by my wrists and my feet are barely touching the ground… I can’t see anyone but I can feel-“ your breath hitched and you rushed the swipe the tears that were falling away from your cheeks, “I can feel a wand against my throat, it’s pressing hard. There’s a whisper, it’s quiet and ghostly and I can barely make it out but I hear them say; crucio.”
Remus’ eyes widened in horror.
“Then I feel nothing but agonising pain and then I wake up,” Remus’ eyebrows furrowed.
“You’ve had this same vision every night?” You nodded.
“I know I should have said something but I didn’t want anyone to worry,” it was then that Remus grabbed your hands and looked at you with a sense of urgency you didn’t know he could possess.
“I need you to listen to me very carefully,” his eyes were wild and his hands shook lightly as they held yours, “You-Know-Who is back. There are already reports of certain Wizards going missing and none of us have any doubt that it’s his doing. And although I- we- care for you a great deal, it would serve us all well to remember that you’re a detrimental piece in this war. If he catches wind of you, he’ll stop at nothing to take you from us,” your heart was now running at the speed of a hummingbird. “We have a plan in place to keep you safe, I fear we may have to implement it sooner than planned.”
Before you knew it, you were surrounded by the entire Order of the Phoenix, all of whom looked grave. Cecillia sat to your right while Nymphadora Tonks occupied the seat to your left. You had the pink haired auror to thank for your duelling capabilities, as well as Remus of course. Her presence was comforting, she made it a point to shoot you a wink every time she caught your eyes looking more fearful than usual.
“Our original plan will need to be tweaked, I ran into Narcissa Malfoy in Diagon Alley and she very plainly insinuated that I was a person of interest in the death eating community,” Cecillia informed the table, a, for lack of a better word, bitchy tone laced in her voice. She’d told you many of her Hogwarts stories, you could recall her telling you that she and the woman she’d mentioned, Narcissa, had once been good friends until around their fourth year. She hadn’t told you what exactly had happened, only that it had been messy.
“What was the original plan?” You asked, growing frustrated with the Order’s lack of communication skills.
Thankfully, being one of the younger members of the group, Tonks understood your frustrations and spoke up on behalf of the group, regardless of whether they were ready for you to know or not; she understood that it was your life they were coordinating.
“We talked about relocating you to CeCe’s. We also, and far more pressingly, planned on erasing all traces of you from both the muggle and wizard world. Which would mean using a memory charm on your family and friends in the muggle world,” Tonks explained, eyes locked on yours while everyone else in the room glared daggers at the purple haired girl.
“Yes. Though we also planned on telling you this information with a far more delicate approach,” Snapped Molly Weasley from the end of the table, causing Fred, who sat to her left, to roll his eyes.
“She’s been riddled with visions of being ruthlessly tortured with an unforgivable curse for the past two weeks. I think the time for delicacy is long passed,” the older of the two twins practically scoffed. George nodded in agreement.
“Besides,” he set his gaze on you, eyes genuine and unwavering as he spoke, “she’s strong enough to handle the truth. It’s time you all stopped acting like she isn’t.”
The table fell silent. His words hung in the air as many of the adults hung their heads.
“By memory charm I’m assuming you mean obliviate?” You broke the silence, if you could you hoped to start an open conversation with the experienced witches and wizards that surrounded you.
“Yes. They’re completely reversible and once the war is over I’ll restore all of the memories.” Cecillia said.
“We know it’s a huge ask, dear, but it’s our best chance at keeping you out of that wretched creature’s hands,” Molly attempted to soothe both you and herself when she pictured what it would like to be in your shoes, how she’d feel if she had no other choice but to be forgotten by the thing she valued the most; her family. Molly Weasley had never been very good at hiding her maternal instincts, over the summer that fact had become glaringly obvious to you. You and Harry had laughed about how the children of Privet Drive had a special place in her heart.
“I understand,” you told her sadly, chewing on the inside of your lip, “I’m guessing by the atmosphere in the room that I won’t be home to say goodbye before you wipe their memories,” you shifted yours eyes from person to person, stopping when Cecillia took your hand firmly in hers.
Her lips were downturned and her eyes filled with guilt, she shook her head mournfully, “I’m afraid we can’t risk it, my darling. Even being here places you in danger at the moment.”
“Where will she go then? If CeCe’s place isn’t an option we’ll have to find a safe house,” Sirius sounded and, simultaneously, both Fred and George stood up, shoulder to shoulder with very professional expressions on their faces.
“We may be able to help with that, actually. George, if you would,” Fred started, nodding to his twin who straightened his shoulders and puffed his chest out over so slightly.
“Thank you, Fred. As you know, we have a property for Weasley Wizard Wheezes secured and we’ll be living in the flat above where the shop will be,” everyone at the table, including yourself, stared at the twins in confusion, not quite sure where they were going with their little pitch until Fred took over again.
“And that flat has three bedrooms,” he said, a smirk growing on his thin lips.
George spoke again, “Which means there’s one for me and one for Fred.”
“Which means there’s one spare,” Fred grinned wickedly.
Tonks let out an impressed laugh once the penny finally dropped, “We apparate her in and nobody would ever know a thing. Nobody other than those of us in the room know that Y/n is a friend of the Weasley’s, plus us visiting the joke shop wouldn’t raise any suspicion. I have to give it to them, it’s a great idea,”
“And one of the two of us will always be within shouting distance if anything happens,” George added, somewhat pleadingly.
Sirius looked across the table at you, “Y/n, it’s up to you. Whatever you decide will be final, we won’t interfere,” he promised sincerely. It was an easy decision, but still, it weighed heavily on your chest. In all honesty, you weren’t worried about your location, staying with the twins would surely be a light and fun time amidst all the doom and gloom. Your worry was that you would, once again, be handing over your control. Sirius dressed it up as though it was your choice, but you knew that this was probably their best option and in reality you really had no other choice than to move in with Fred and George.
“Sounds good to me,” you whispered halfheartedly, eyes dropping to stare at your lap as your teeth pulled anxiously at the skin of your lips.
“So it’s settled then,” Remus said, “Y/n will go with Fred and George tonight.”
Abruptly, you pushed your chair away from the table and stood up. Sparing nobody a glance, you left the room as quickly as you possibly could, before the lump in your throat could choke you or the tears that pooled in your eyes spilled like water through a broken dam. George made a move to rise from his seat only for Remus to stop him by placing his hand on the boy’s shoulder, “Give her a moment.”
You found yourself locked in the second story bathroom, sitting in the bath. Your legs hung out over the side of the tub while your head was tilted back against the black tiled wall. As hard as you tried to prevent them, tears were streaming down the expense of your cheeks, neck and beneath the neckline of your shirt. The minutes ticked by yet your chest continued to rise and fall rapidly due to the sobs that shook it, your breath uneven. Visions of brutal torture were bad enough when you were in your own home, in your own warm bed, with your parents just a room away and ready to make you a hot cup of tea after you woke up screaming. Now, the visions would without a doubt continue to plague you, unlike before though, you wouldn’t be waking up in a familiar setting, nor would you fall asleep in the comfort of your own mattress, when you woke up screaming so loud that your throat grew raw, your comfort would rely on two seventeen year old boys who seldom took things seriously. It’s not that you didn’t trust them, no, you trusted them with your life- you are trusting them with your life, it’s just that there was already a lot going on in your mind at the moment, moving in with your crush and his identical twin brother isn’t exactly your idea of a nerve killer.
A knock against the bathroom door pulled you from your thoughts. You rushed to wipe your tears with your sleeves, sniffling, “Come in,” you choked out. Cursing your voice for breaking when you spoke.
Remus’ head poked through the door, his body following soon after. Even in an atmosphere as dense as this one, a sense of gentle calm always followed Remus wherever he went. Clumsily, the werewolf slid into the bath beside you with a low “oof” sound, mimicking your position with his much longer legs dangling closer to the wooden floor than your own.
“CeCe has gone to collect your things for you and get Harry, then, I believe, perform the spell,” he eyed you cautiously, hyper aware of your glassy eyes and puffy face. When your eyes widened and you whipped your face towards him, his stomach twisted into knots, he hated seeing you like this. He could sympathise with your feelings. When James and Lily were killed, and Sirius went to Azkaban and even when Peter was presumed dead, Remus had been left with a vicious frustration fuelled by his belief that he was utterly powerless in his own life. He could see in your eyes that that same notion was starting to creep up on you too.
“Already?” You gasped out, pulse rising again, a slight panic setting in. “It won’t hurt them will it? The spell?” You fretted, looking pleadingly to the man beside you.
He shook his head, tenderly taking your hand and placing it against his clothed chest, his beating heart present against the palm of your shaking hand. “I promise you that they won’t feel a thing. They will go on living an exciting life, travelling, seeing the world safely while you’re away. When this is all over we’ll place their memories of you back in their minds and it will be as though you were never gone.” Your teeth found the inside of your cheek again, gnawing relentlessly at the skin as you failed miserably to hold back a fresh set of tears. Remus squeezed the hand he held against his chest. “Let it out, Y/n. It’s okay, I won’t tell anyone,” he whispered, heart sinking lower when your bottom lip quivered and you let a rasped sob leave your body. With a deep sigh, Remus used the hand he was already holding as leverage to pull you into him, wasting no time he enveloped you in his arms, holding you securely as you cried against his chest. Admittedly, it felt good to let it out, Remus’ hand rubbed soothing circles against your heaving back and eventually, you didn’t know how long it had been, you calmed down, your tear ducts all dried out.
Remus held you in his arms for a while longer, even though you’d stopped crying, he could feel your body as it continued to shake. “I can’t promise you it will all be okay, but I can assure you that myself and Sirius, and everyone else for that matter, will be there for you at the drop of a hat; whatever you need,” he spoke against your hair.
“Whatever I need?” You echoed, the pit in your stomach ever growing.
“Of course,” he confirmed.
Remus startled slightly when you suddenly tore yourself away from him. As best you could in your awkward position, you turned to face him and grabbed his hands with as much urgency as he had done with yours. “I need you to do something for me,” Remus furrowed his brows in confusion, but nodded his head anyway.
“If anything happens to me… Don’t make them remember,” you instructed, maybe the request would’ve seemed radical if you had said it to anyone else, but you knew that Remus had experienced losses like no one else you knew, perhaps Harry came close but even his shortcomings couldn’t compare to Remus’. “It’d only cause them pain. If I die and they’re happily living none the wiser, leave them be, please,” the man let out a heavy sigh and took a moment to take you in. Your eyes were hard yet pleading, they left him no room to negotiate and he understood perfectly where you were coming from.
“Alright,” he agreed before raising his eyebrow and readjusting himself to get a better look at you, “However you should know; no matter what may come of this war, none of us will forget about you. In such a short time you’ve given us so much… you gave Harry his first friendship, a friendship that he cherishes more than anything in the world, I might add. You saved Sirius from death, my fiancé and Harry’s godfather. Mentoring you has given Cecillia a new lease of life and Molly Weasley one more child to knit jumpers for at Christmas,” he took a brief pause then went on, “For the sake of saving time I won’t even begin to tell you what you mean to the twins. My point is;” there was a melancholic type of smile on his face when he paused again, as if he was imagining what it would be like to remember you fondly if you did in fact die for the cause, “What you’re asking is incredibly selfless. And while your mother and father may not remember how wonderful you are, we all will.” Remus chuckled lowly when you shuffled your way back into his arms, squeezing his middle tightly. He slung his arm around your shoulders and delicately pressed his lips to the top of your head. You held so much love in your heart for the man who was currently cradling you in his arms. You debated telling him, you weren’t sure if it was entirely appropriate but after the speech he’d just given you couldn’t have cared less, “Remus?”
“Hm?”
“I love you,” you murmured, looking up at him innocently.
He offered you a toothy smile and breathed out a soft laugh, “I love you too.” With a content nod, you rested your head back against his chest, enjoying his soothing heartbeats against your ear. A melodic hum rumbled against your cheek, a quiet giggle left your mouth when you recognised the melody to the song he was humming. The tune of “Rhiannon” by Fleetwood Mac floated through the bathroom bringing a genuine smile to your lips. The werewolf’s humming was interrupted by another knock against the bathroom door, whoever was knocking didn’t wait for a response before entering the room. Sirius stepped in and quietly shut the door behind him. He didn’t question you and Remus' position in the bath but simply slid into the tub on the other side of you, sandwiching you between himself and Remus. The black haired man let out a heavy sigh and leaned his head back against the tiles.
“The mother hens downstairs are worrying up a storm,” he said in exasperation, “I don’t think I’ve ever seen Tonks so riled up about someone’s safety. I tasked Molly with making you some hot chocolate to keep her occupied”
“Maybe I should go back down…” you muttered halfheartedly, begrudgingly peeling yourself away from Remus’ warm body.
Sirius gave you an apologetic look, “I held them off for as long as I could.”
“Thanks,” you whispered, bumping your shoulder to his, making him chuckle. After pulling yourself out of the bath, rather clumsily, you took a second to check yourself over in the mirror.
“You’re glowing, darling,” Sirius all but sang from behind you and you couldn’t stop the slight snort that escaped you.
“That’s one way to put it.”
“If you don’t believe me go on downstairs and ask George what he thinks,” Sirius teased, wiggling his eyebrows and receiving a light shove from his fiancé who couldn’t hide his grin.
“Leave her alone, love,” he chastised weakly, “You look perfectly fine, Y/n. Go downstairs and get something to drink, you need to rehydrate.” A bittersweet smile broke out on your lips, his fatherly tone simultaneously soothed you and left you yearning for what you were in the process of losing. Trying not to dwell on the sad fact, you left the bathroom and slowly descended the stairs.
As you assumed, the second you stepped back into the kitchen, Molly began to fret over you as if her life depended on it. Sipping on the hot chocolate she’d given you, you were reminded of how desperately tired you were. All the crying hadn’t helped ease the heaviness in your eyes either. Every bone in your body felt heavy for that matter, you were struggling to even hold your head up.
“You can lean against my shoulder if you’d like,” George’s voice broke you from your hazed state, you’d completely forgotten he was sitting beside you despite his leg that was pressed against yours beneath the table. You gave him a sleepy but grateful smile, as subtly as you could you scooched closer to the ginger and slotted yourself against his side, letting your head fall onto his shoulder. “Will you keep me awake until Harry and Cecillia get here?” You requested in a slurred murmur, your eyes fluttering between open and shut.
“Of course,” was all he said, he looked down at you adoringly, smiling like an idiot when you nuzzled into his shoulder, your nose rubbing against his neck. Try as he might, George couldn’t pull his eyes away from your drowsy face. “What do you propose we do?”
You shrugged your shoulders lightly, “Just talk.”
“How would you like your new room decorated?” He asked quietly, his head tilted down while he spoke to you, so you could hear him and so he wouldn’t ruin the lulled bubble you’d managed to obtain between you by talking too loudly. A sweet smile grew on your face, a smile that all but knocked all the breath out of George’s lungs when you angled your head to make eye contact.
“Can I have a double bed?” George snorted at your question and shook his head no.
“Nothing smaller than a king. What else?”
You pretended to ponder for a moment, “Can we paint it?” The ginger nodded, taking his bottom lip between his teeth.
“If you want to,” he started, almost sounding nervous, “We could paint it together?” Even in your sleep deprived state you hadn’t missed the vulnerability in his voice, it was the same vulnerability that you’d noticed when he’d asked you to go get a butterbeer with him a couple of months ago.
“I’d love that,” you told him, your answer causing his lips to twist into a pleased smile, “How do you feel about the colour green?”
Immediately, his smile dropped and he let out a disgusted scoff, “Green is a Slytherin colour.”
“You keep forgetting that I don’t get the whole house sorty thing,” you reminded him, not happy with his reasoning for hating your favourite colour. “Besides, I love green, it’s my favourite colour.” You told him truthfully. Not content with his disgruntled facial expression you began to defend your preference, “A lot of beautiful things are green; you’ve got grass, trees, emeralds- did you know that emeralds are really useful for enhancing psychic abilities? It also evokes clarity of thought,” you rambled, willing yourself to be quiet when you registered George’s fond expression.
The look of endearment aimed at you brought butterflies to life in your stomach, effectively waking you up somewhat.
“Do you have any emerald?” He asked, you assumed he was only feigning interest, you didn’t know that he could’ve listened to you go on and on about anything and everything for the rest of his life.
“No, not yet. I should probably get some though.” You said through a yawn. Your breath against his neck made him giggle, it was pure and unsuspecting but you took note of it. Everything about George Weasley felt like sunshine to you, his laugh filled your chest with warmth whenever you heard it, his eyes found yours like a lighthouse, guiding your lost mind back to the present each time your gazes connected. His voice, like his laugh, warmed you up when you were cold, giving you a reason to stay awake when you’d rather just slip away. In conjunction with the sun, even if you couldn’t physically see him, you never doubted that he was always there. As well as all of that, like your favourite tarot card; The Sun, he signified good things, hope that hard times will end with you on top, contentment and happiness. While your thoughts consisted of George’s similarities to the sun, his were consumed with the, in his mind, overwhelmingly cheesily romantic notion that you were the moon and the stars, he would’ve cringed if he didn’t wholeheartedly believe it. Everything that made the night sky magnificent was reflected in you. Like the stars, you were mysterious and captivating. Nothing seemed to compare to your glow or beauty, if you were to ask him what he preferred; you or the night sky on a clear night, he’d happily ignore a blank, starless sky in favour of simply staring at you as you went on tangent after tangent about crystals or tarot cards.
The pair of you were pulled from your musings when Harry rushed through the kitchen door looking unmistakably heartbroken, ever the empath when it came to his best friend, Harry’s heart sank the moment he laid eyes on your form, limp against George’s side. The second you saw him you all but ripped yourself from George’s side and the older redhead felt a surge of irrational jealousy begin to build in his chest at how fast you left his hold in favour of the chosen one. He knew it was ridiculous, he’d heard the way each of you respectively talked about each other, at this point you were practically siblings. But he supposed it was rational to be jealous when you liked someone the way he liked you.
Quickly, you crossed the room to Harry who had his arms already outstretched. He knew you were emotionally exhausted when you didn’t bear hug him. You meekly slid your arms beneath his open zip-up hoodie, tucked your head beneath his chin and didn’t say a word. “I shouldn’t bother asking if you’re okay then,” Harry muttered to himself, leaning his cheek against the top of your head and wrapping his lanky arms around your frame.
“Did Cecillia remember to bring Astra?” You asked, it was all you wanted to know about the night’s events.
“She’s in her cage in the living room, darling,” Cecilia said, walking into the room looking guilty.
“C’mon, let’s go have a chat,” Harry suggested, leading you out of the kitchen and upstairs to his unofficial room. Once inside the room you sat down on the edge of the bed, the blue duvet softly creasing beneath you. Harry plopped himself down beside you and offered you a gesture that was always saved for when either of you felt the other was on the edge of something dangerous. Your hands rested against your lap and he deftly slid his pinky over yours, intertwining your two littlest fingers. It was such a familiar experience; he’d done it when your grandparents died, when you’d cried over failed exams that you worked hard for, and in turn, you did it for him when he’d felt as though he had no place in the world, when he’d open up about his parents and when Cedric died and the ministry dragged his name through the mud you’d find your pinky tangled with his almost every night after he’d sneak over to your place after another nightmare or panic attack. “Do you want to talk about it?”
You shook your head, “Not tonight. I don’t want to cry anymore,” you croaked out, looking straight ahead of you at the grey painted wall.
“I understand,” he said, sighing and dropping his head onto your shoulder, “Let’s talk about something else then.”
“Like what, Haz?”
Harry snorted out a chuckle, “Like the way George looked like he wanted to hex me when you left him to come to me,” he teased, a smug lilt to his voice.
“He wasn’t teasing me, perhaps I’ll go back to him,” you grumbled, ignoring Harry’s childish giggles.
“Yeah you’d like that wouldn’t you?” You smacked his arm lightly with your free hand, doing a bad job of containing giggles of your own. “Don’t worry, since he’s going to be your new roommate there will be plenty of time for “oh George I’m so sleepy, please hold me until I fall asleep”,” you let out a cackle at Harry’s terrible impression of your voice, laying your cheek against his wild hair.
“That is so not what was going on, Haz,” you defended with a tiny smile.
Harry let out an airy, disbelieving chuckle, “Then what was going on?”
“He just said I could lean on him until you and Cecillia arrived and we just started chatting about how I wanna decorate my room,” you explained truthfully and Harry nodded.
“Riveting,” he mumbled sarcastically. Despite his snarky comment, the boy removed his head from your shoulder and pulled you against his chest. “Jokes aside, I’m glad you’re staying with him, I know he’ll look after you for me,” you rolled your eyes at the sentiment.
“I don’t need to be looked after,” you reminded him, looking up at him with a chastising smile.
He rolled his eyes right back at you, jostling you slightly in his arms, “No. But you like to be.”
You threw your head back in laughter, “Yeah, I suppose I do.” You did. You quite like both doting on people and being doted on, you’d grown up in an affectionate family so it was no wonder really.
“It’s getting late. We should get you settled into your new home,” Harry announced, pulling himself and you up from the bed, “I wasn’t going to say anything but you look terrible. You need sleep.”
“Thank you, Harry. Just what every girl wants to hear before moving in with her crush,” you joked, gently hitting your hip against his.
The kitchen was quiet when you returned, it seemed everyone had grown tired from the dramatic events of the evening.
“Ready to go then?” Fred asked, his coat already on and a handful of your bags in his hands.
“As I’ll ever be I suppose.”
After saying goodbye to everyone you, Fred and George traveled to their apartment by floo, to your dismay. The apartment was bare as they’d only just moved in but you could see it had lots of potential for becoming a cozy home for the twins.
As your first night in your new residence began, your aching eyes and tired mind didn’t leave you with any time to dwell on current events, the second your head made contact with the pillow you were out like a light. A dreamless slumber welcomed you for a while until your peace was broken by the all too familiar nightmare.
The first thing you recognised was the burn coming from your wrists. Shackles adorned them and effectively held your hands high above your head, stretching them uncomfortably. Goosebumps painted the expanse of your arms and legs, due to the freezing temperature in the nondescript cellar. A feeling of hopelessness planted firmly in your chest, the feeling only hightening when the familiar echo of footsteps, heavy and loud, drifted from the corridor outside of your field of vision. You knew who was approaching, you’ve lived this before, and so, you held your lip between your teeth and squeezed your eyes shut. The face of the dark wizard who always brought about your intense suffering was, for the most part, completely fuzzy, unrecognisable, featureless and bone-chillingly terrifying. You’d learned over the last two weeks of having this vision that it was less harrowing if you closed your eyes.
“I’ll ask you once more,” The voice was distorted, like it was being heard through a weedy radio, ominously unplaceable, “Where is he?”
You held no control over your voice, as was the norm during visions, as you felt and heard yourself reply, “I’ll tell you once more; I’d sooner die then sell him to you.” You felt your teeth gritting and your jaw clenching while you spoke. Jaw only tightening when the pointed tip of the wizard’s wand stabbed unforgivingly against the column of your neck.
“And die you will, my dear. But not yet-“ your eyes sealed themselves shut and you did your best to shake yourself out of the vision before what you knew was coming took place, as usual, your attempts were fruitless, “-Crucio.” Just like that your body was consumed by pain, the likes of which you’d never imagined possible, until you couldn’t even register yourself screaming anymore.
You bolted upright, clutching at the sheets of your new bed. Laboured breaths left your mouth and you aimlessly gripped at your neck, where the wand had been pressed, and let the tears spill freely. Momentarily disoriented, you’d forgotten where you were. Deep, heavy bursts of air left your mouth as you hastily scurried out of bed and towards the door. Somewhat aimlessly, you gravitated to the door across the hall. A yellow hue seeped from under the frame into the otherwise dark hallway. Light flooded the hall once you managed to fumble the handle down and pull the door ajar, a discombobulated ginger greeting you with half lidded eyes, obviously having been dozing off before you disturbed his peace.
“Sorry,” you rasped once your peace of mind returned to you and you realised where you were. Despite knowing that you shouldn’t have been standing numbly in his doorway, your feet seemed to be rooted in place, you couldn’t have walked away if you wanted to.
“S’alright,” George called out to you softly, sitting up in his bed, his back against the headboard. “You can come in, you know.”
Shutting the door behind you, you nervously shuffled into the room, stopping when you reached the side of his bed. George’s eyes roamed your face and he took notice of your still somewhat panicked expression, he drew his covers to the side and patted the empty space by his side. Something that always intrigued you was people’s preferred side of the bed, some people gravitated towards the left while others were more biased towards the right, but George Weasley? He slept right in the middle. The twin slept with a huge number of pillows, to the point where it was almost laughable, many of which you could only guess he’d smuggled from the Burrow.
Far too wound up to save face, you slid into his bed and didn’t shy away when he guided you into his side and tucked you tenderly beneath his lean arm. His embrace offered a greatly appreciated warmth as the chill of the dank dungeon always lingered long after the vision itself was over.
“What’re you doing up so late?” You asked, your voice gravelly. As you spoke, George effortlessly shuffled your body and his down so that your backs were resting on the mattress and not the headboard. Your head found it’s home against George’s shoulder and your hair was being tentatively twirled between his fingers.
“It’s our first night actually sleeping here. I couldn’t get to sleep,” he explained, his voice low and laced with fatigue. “I’m not really used to having my own room. It’s strange not hearing Freddie snoring or breathing.”
“I get that,” you whispered, “it’s quite comforting knowing for certain that someone is there with you.”
George nodded then. His eyes were glued to your face and he hadn’t even registered his own thought process before his lips were pressing delicately against your forehead. Today had appeared to be the day for laying all your cards out on the table, yourself and George hadn’t danced around your feelings for each other half as much as you usually did when you’d be in each other’s presence. Neither of you had the energy anymore, besides, if today’s events proved anything it was that; things were getting seriously messy as the war built momentum and it was clear that time was something that could very well be running out.
“Yeah,” he regarded you carefully, a little grin growing on his lips, “It is.”
A comfortable silence overtook the room. George’s twirling of your hair never ceased, every now and then his fingers would ghost over your shoulder and you’d catch yourself smiling against the cotton of his shirt as your eyes grew tired enough that they were close to falling shut.
Just as you were working up the motivation to lift yourself up and trudge back to your own bed, George spoke, “You can sleep here if you want, with me,” there was that innocent vulnerability again. There was never an ulterior motive when it came to him, he did things purely for the sake of making others happy, if he felt he could make a difference he simply needed to. Especially when it came to you, he realised.
“You don’t mind?” You asked, daring to peek up at him.
“Course not. I could use some company anyway.” He reassured you, his lips returning to your forehead, only this time the action held far more intention. “You don’t snore do you, love?”
You snorted out a giggle, looking up at the ginger cheekily, mischief dripping from your little grin that forced George’s heart to stutter rather violently and he hoped you hadn’t noticed. “No. But I drool.”
George’s face contorted, his nose scrunching up adorably in disgust, “Do you really?”
“Suppose you’ll have to find out, won’t you?” You teased and he sighed deeply, his disgruntled expression melting into a soft, adoring smile.
“I should’ve expected this, I knew you couldn’t have been completely perfect,” he said, mockingly sorrowful.
You scoffed, pushing his chest lightly, “You’re doing a lot of sweet talking tonight, Mr. Weasley,” you told him and he shrugged innocently.
“Just wanted to see you smiling again, darling.”
“Yeah, well, you’re doing a good job,” you assured him, the bashful yet tired smile that stretched your lips as you gazed up at him proved that you meant what you’d just said. “I like it by the way, the sweet talking.”
At your words, a huge, shit eating smirk grew on the boy’s freckled face. He managed to rearrange your bodies so that you were still tucked under his arm but you were now facing each other at eye level. “I knew it,” he proclaimed cockily.
You raised a challenging eyebrow, biting back a smirk, “Oh did you?”
George nodded pridefully, “‘Course I did. You see, I’m a little bit psychic,” his words forced a booming laugh from your lips, your cheeks hurting from the smile he’d orchestrated.
You shook your head, smile never dulling as you let out a chastising whisper, “oh sod off.”
“I love your smile,” he said suddenly, his eyes widened in horror when he realised he’d uttered the words out loud. The world could’ve stopped in that moment and you wouldn’t have noticed, all you could take in was George’s face, his eyes searching yours for something.
Carefully, you slid from hand from his chest to his red, blushing face. You cupped his cheek gently, moving your thumb against his cheek bone, almost swooning where you lay when he nuzzled against your touch. Working up some Gryffindor courage, George mimicked your movement, removing his arm from around your shoulder and bringing his palm to rest against the curve of your jaw.
As you stared at each other, you weighed up the pros and cons of telling him that you were completely head over heels for him. Your decision, apparently taking far too long, was made for you when George tugged you impossibly closer to him.
“I wasn’t going to tell you… you’ve had so much going on I didn’t want to overwhelm you,” he said, brown eyes boring into your soul.
“Tell me what?”
He took a deep breath, preparing himself for every possible outcome that may spring once the words on the tip of his tongue are spoken aloud, “That I love you.”
#george weasley x reader#harry potter x reader#sirius black x reader#remus lupin x reader#marauders x reader#fred weasly x reader
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Written In The Stars CXXXV (Harry Potter xF!Oc)
A/N: :c
Words: 4,500
Series’ Masterlist
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Chapter Thirty-Three: The Battle of the Department of Mysteries.
The group divided in two and she was leading Ron, Luna and Ginny without having a clue of where to run next.
Rodolphus Lestrange suddenly appeared ahead and she silently raised her wand, shooting a bolt of purple lightning directly into his chest.
"You know nonverbal spells?" Ginny panted.
"She can do that since our third-year," Ron responded. "Don't stop running! — Stupefy!"
"And you decide to use them until now?!"
"I've been using them all the time!" Mel argued, shooting towards another Death Eater. "But I'm obviously not going to walk around announcing it!"
She cleared the way and pushed Ginny and Luna through the door, then Ron pushed her and before he could close the door a dark something hit the side of his head and the boy stumbled back. Mel slammed the door close as Ron fell flat on the spot, she kneeled beside him.
She shook his shoulders but nothing happened. Ginny shouted something about footsteps getting closer. Mel pointed to his chest and used a reviving spell to bring him back, Ron's eyes sort of cleared, but only for the briefest moment, he stared at her with a stupid smile.
"Haha... Mel," He giggled. "You have two heads..."
"Great," She groaned. "He's been confunded... At least he's awake — We need to move."
"You go ahead, Luna and I will carry him," Ginny replied, grabbing her brother.
Mel advanced carefully and as quickly as she could, a new pair of death eaters ran into the room and started to throw curses. One charged up to her, caught off guard by his sudden actions, she fell backwards and cut her face with the edge of a table.
"Get off!" She shouted, placing both hands on the man's chest. A burst of energy sent him flying across the room. Mel wasted no time, the other death eater was fighting with Ginny and Luna.
"Reducto!"
The shelf next to him exploded, giving the girls enough time to push Ron out of the way. Mel grabbed him by the collar of his shirt and dragged him to the next room, closely followed by Ginny and Luna.
The group ran all together into the next room. Mel suddenly felt her feet being lifted from the ground.
"Space," She gasped.
But this couldn't be the real thing, since she could breathe and the planets were all her size.
"Avada —"
"Petrificus Totalus!" shouted Luna.
Ron was floating around and having a laughing fit; she pushed to get closer to the boy and shield him. A planet exploded a few feet away, she landed on top of Ron, who laughed louder.
"My foot!" Ginny growled behind her.
Mel pushed the hair out of her face.
"Take Ron, you three keep going —"
"But —"
"Do as I say!" Mel yelled as she lifted Ron from the ground with Luna's help. "I don't need to use my wand!"
Ginny ran to the door, broken ankle and everything. Mel forced Luna to walk out of there with Ron, and with both hands, she conjured a stunning spell strong enough to hit the three remaining men. She didn't wait to see the results and turned around, rushing out of the room and slamming the door close.
"Ginny?" Harry's voice took her by surprise. "What happened?"
Ginny fell to the ground and held her leg tightly, Mel walked up to her and crouched.
"Ferula!" She exclaimed, Ginny's ankle quickly got wrapped in bandages.
"I think her ankle's broken, I heard something crack," Luna explained. "Four of them chased us into a dark room full of planets, it was a very odd place, some of the time we were just floating in the dark —"
"Harry, we saw Uranus up close!" said Ron. "Get it, Harry? We saw Uranus — ha ha ha —"
"What happened to you?" Erick asked when he saw her. "You have a huge cut on your —"
"Doesn't matter," She moved his hand away from her face.
"It does matter!"
"Everyone here is hurt!" She replied harshly. "You have a massive cut on your lip — Neville, dear Merlin, Neville's got his nose broken and — What's wrong with Hermione?" Mel walked up to her unconscious friend.
"And what about Ron?" Harry asked them, holding Ron so he wouldn't fall.
"I don't know what they hit him with," said Luna, "but he's gone a bit funny, I could hardly get him along at all... Mel woke him up — It's been lucky that she was with us, she took down three of them at once."
"Harry," Ron snorted, "you know who this girl is, Harry? She's Loony... Loony Lovegood... ha ha ha..."
"We've got to get out of here," said Harry. "Luna, can you help Ginny?"
"Yes," said Luna.
"It's only my ankle, I can do it myself! Mel fixed it!" But even with all the fixing, Ginny couldn't stand on her own.
Harry tugged Ron's arm over his shoulders. Neville pulled Hermione closer and Erick quickly approached to help him. Mel was the only one left who still had no extra weight to carry.
An invisible mantle had fallen onto her unexpectedly, now it was her duty to make sure everyone would leave this place in one piece. She almost wanted to fall to her knees and cry like a baby, she knew that people would eventually need her to lead, but it had been too soon, too sudden.
"There they are!" Bellatrix yelled.
Mel lifted a big magical division between them.
"GO!"
Harry kicked another door open and went inside, closely followed by Erick, Neville and Hermione. Mel started to walk backwards as Luna helped Ginny move forward, trying to maintain the spell for a bit longer. Two figures appeared on her sides, Erick and Harry were back in the room, helping her keep the protection. As soon as they reached the door, Erick yelled 'Now!' and the three of them ran for it.
"Colloportus!" Harry shouted, just in time to hear the adults crash into the entrance.
"It doesn't matter! There are other ways in — WE'VE GOT THEM, THEY'RE HERE!"
"Decide quickly!" Mel yelled. "We can seal all the doors or run, but we have to do it now!"
"We keep going, but we seal half of these first. You and Erick watch over the others," Harry said. "Luna — Neville — help me!"
The three of them tore around the room, sealing the doors as they went: Harry crashed into a table and rolled over the top of it in his haste to reach the next door.
"Colloportus!"
There were footsteps running along behind the doors; every now and then another heavy body would launch itself against one, so it creaked and shuddered. Luna and Neville were bewitching the doors along the opposite wall — then, as Harry reached the very top of the room, he heard Luna cry, "Collo — aaaaaaaaargh..."
"Get Potter!" Bellatrix shouted.
"Stupefy!" Mel said, hitting another death eater across the chest.
"Hey!" said Ron, somehow he'd escaped Erick and Mel's protection. "Hey, Harry, there are brains in here, ha ha ha, isn't that weird, Harry?"
"Ron, get out of the way, get down —"
"Honest, Harry, they're brains — look — Accio Brain!"
"DON'T—" Erick started, but it was too late.
"Ha ha ha, Harry, look at it —" said Ron, watching it disgorge its gaudy innards. "Harry, come and touch it, bet it's weird —"
"RON, NO!"
"Harry, look what's happen — no — no, I don't like it — no, stop — stop —" The tentacles wrapped around his arms and quickly crawled up his chest.
"Diffindo!" yelled Harry.
"Harry, it'll suffocate him!" shouted Ginny, before she could reach her brother a spell got her and she fell unconscious on the ground.
Erick did one swift movement with his wand and the death eater who'd gotten Ginny flew back against the wall.
"STUBEFY!" shouted Neville. "STUBEFY, STUBEFY !"
"Immobulus!"
Mel got the brain around Ron's torso. The thing stopped at once and fell limply on the ground, but Ron was half-gone already. Only Mel, Erick, Harry and Neville remained.
"We cover," Mel said. "You and Neville run."
"But —"
"I can do more than you," She said tensely. "Protect that bloody orb — Do what I say."
Harry and Neville ran while Mel and Erick shot at the adults all the curses they could remember. Some of them bounced on the walls and she realized how dangerous this could be for her fallen friends. She had no option but to follow Harry and Neville so this room could be left alone.
They were back in the room with the stone archway, Harry stumbled down and Neville was nowhere to be seen, the terror in Mel's body started to show through her magic, thin dark lines started to spread around the back of her hands.
"Children, your race is run," Lucius Malfoy pulled off his cloak. "Now hand me the prophecy like a good boy..."
"Let — let the others go, and I'll give it to you!" Harry panted.
"You are not in a position to bargain, Potter. You see, there are ten of us and only three of you... or hasn't Dumbledore ever taught you how to count?"
"There's ford obf us!" Neville shouted from the top of the stairs.
"And I can assure you Dumbledore taught me way more than just numbers," Mel replied, holding her wand firmly.
"Neville — no — go back to Ron —" Harry urged desperately.
"STUBEFY!" Neville shouted, trying to take down as many people as possible, "STUBEFY ! STUBE —"
One man launched over him and seized his arms behind his back.
"It's Longbottom, isn't it? Well, your grandmother is used to losing family members to our cause... Your death will not come as a great shock..." Lucius started.
"Longbottom?" Bellatrix asked in delight. "Why, I have had the pleasure of meeting your parents, boy..."
"I DOE YOU HAB!"
"Someone Stun him!"
"No, no, no... No, let's see how long Longbottom lasts before he cracks like his parents... Unless Potter, Dumbledore and the traitor want to give us the prophecy —"
"DON'D GIB ID DO DEM!" roared Neville, she would've been proud hadn't been for the fact that they were all about to die. "DON'D GIB ID DO DEM!"
"Crucio!"
Neville fell to the floor in agony, Erick tried to curse Bellatrix, but four different death eaters attacked at once. Harry and Mel managed to protect him from most of it, but he doubled abruptly, blood staining his uniform.
"That was just a taster!" said Bellatrix. "Now, Potter, either give us the prophecy, or watch your little friend die the hard way! And eventually the rest of your friends. The nasty traitor will bleed out, and nutty will join us to be the Dark Lord's little pet..."
Harry and Mel stood side by side, it didn't matter how strong she was, she couldn't fight ten people ready to kill. Harry hesitantly stretched out his hand, but before Malfoy could grab the prophecy, the doors burst open and Sirius, Lupin, Moody, Tonks, and Kingsley entered the room.
Harry grabbed her wrist and yanked her down, she seized Erick and dragged him too. The three of them crawled all the way up to Neville.
"Are you okay?" Harry shouted.
"Yes," Neville said shakily.
"That was really brave!" Mel cupped his face, examining his injuries. "And really stupid, Neville! You were supposed to stay close!"
"And Ron?" Harry asked them. "And the girls?"
"All out," Erick panted, he was holding onto the side of his body and was getting paler with each passing second. "But alive."
"I don't know how to heal cuts that deep," Mel said in worry. "Stop moving!"
Harry suddenly got lifted onto his feet by a man.
"Give it to me! Give me the prophecy —"
Neville stood up again and stabbed the man's eye with Hermione's wand. He let go of Harry and Mel shouted: "STUPEFY !"
Harry yelled 'Thanks!' as he stood up, but he slipped on Moody's eye, who was now unconscious a few feet away. Dolohov stared at them with a nasty smile.
"Tarantallegra!" He yelled at Neville, making him lose balance. "Now, Potter —"
"Protego!" Harry shouted.
Mel lifted Erick's white shirt that was now sticking to his body and did the first thing she could think of: She cauterised the cuts.
Her friend screamed in pain, she apologized hurriedly and kept going as Sirius and Dolohov fought behind her. When she finished, Erick was no longer conscious. Harry helped her stand and stared at him worryingly.
"He's not bleeding now," She tried to dry her tears, but only managed to smear Erick's blood across her face. "I can't do anything else — I don't know if he'll live..."
"Petrificus Totalus!" Harry yelled over her shoulder. Dolohov fell backwards.
"Nice one!" shouted Sirius forcing them to lower their heads. "Now I want you to get out of —"
Tonks fell a few feet away from them.
"Take the prophecy, grab Neville and Erick, and run!" Sirius ran towards Bellatrix.
"Can you stand?" Harry asked Neville.
"Hang on," Mel pointed her wand towards Neville's legs and ended the jinx.
"Put your arm 'round my neck," The boy told Neville, then turned to her. "You're sure you can take him?"
She pointed at Erick's limp figure and made him float a few inches above the ground.
"I don't need brute force," Mel said, pushing her friend's body forward.
Just as they started moving, Malfoy launched himself towards Harry and both fell onto the ground. Harry kept his hand up in order to not crash the prophecy, Mel let out a growl.
"The prophecy, give me the prophecy, Potter!"
"No — get — off — me... Neville — catch it!"
Harry flung the prophecy across the floor, Neville spun himself around on his back and scooped the ball to his chest. Malfoy pointed the wand instead at Neville, but Harry jabbed his own wand back over his shoulder and yelled, "Impedimenta!"
"Round up the others and GO!" Lupin yelled, standing in front of Malfoy to keep him from attacking.
Neville approached her.
"You grab dis," He handed her the prophecy, surprisingly warm at the touch. "You're a better dueller."
"You're okay?" Mel asked.
"I'b fine," He said fiercely.
"Come on!" Harry yelled.
Neville pushed the Slytherin's floating figure, Mel looked down at the prophecy and froze.
'S.P.T to A.P.W.B.D'
She recognized the initials.
"That's how he knew..." Mel whispered.
"Mel!" Harry yelled.
The prophecy was dangerous and they had almost let it fall onto the wrong hands... but there was a way to make sure this wouldn't happen, and it didn't necessarily mean both sides would lose.
She held the orb firmly and smashed it against the ground.
"NO!"
A white misty figure appeared wearing a pair of glasses that she knew all too well, a triumphant expression appeared on her face while Harry rushed back to her side.
"Have you lost your mind?!"
Her hand now had pieces of broken glass encrusted, but she couldn't feel pain, the adrenaline kept her working, the strange dark lines were slowly spreading across her skin. Harry looked down at her hand and shook his head, still unable to believe what she'd done.
"Let's get out of —"
"Dubbledore!" gasped Neville.
"What?"
"DUBBLEDORE!"
Mel's heart went from being in the depths of despair, to high above the clouds, now they had a chance to leave the Ministry in one piece: Albus Dumbledore had arrived, and he was angry.
It was an impressive display of power. A few death eaters ended up tied and wandless in a matter of seconds. Sirius and Bellatrix continued fighting, not noticing the battle was almost over.
"Come on, you can do better than that!" Sirius taunted.
"He shouldn't be here," Mel pulled a piece of glass out of her palm. "Sirius shouldn't —"
Before she could finish, a spell hit him right on the chest. Sirius' eyes opened in shock as he stumbled back.
Mel was vaguely aware of Harry as he ran down the steps, her body went numb as she witnessed the man falling further into the veil. She couldn't see his face from where she was standing, but she saw his body fall, not quite touching the material hanging from the archway. The veil moved slightly, and then engulfed him.
"SIRIUS!" Harry screamed. "SIRIUS!"
Lupin caught the boy before he could go too far, Mel's fists tightened and she felt the pieces of glass piercing deeper into her skin.
"There's nothing you can do, Harry —"
"Get him, save him, he's only just gone through!"
"It's too late, Harry —"
"We can still reach him —"
"There's nothing you can do, Harry... nothing... He's gone."
"He hasn't gone! SIRIUS! SIRIUS!"
"He can't come back, Harry, He can't come back, because he's d —"
"HE — IS — NOT — DEAD! SIRIUS!"
Something inside Mel snapped, the glass shot out of her palm and she walked back into the fight, attacking every dark shape her eyes would encounter.
She wanted to hurt, to make them regret Sirius' death. Dumbledore slowed down her movements when he realized Mel had lost it, the girl looked down just in time to see faint, black lines vanish from her forearms.
Mel wouldn't remember much of it afterwards, all she knew was that her wand was extremely warm once she'd finished with the remaining death eaters and her fingers had a grey mist coming out of them.
"What..." She stepped back clumsily, crashing against her great-uncle.
"I warned you," He said quietly.
"Harry? Mel?" Neville had reached the place where Harry was standing, the boy had an absent look on his face, and he was unable to look away from the archway. "I'b really sorry... Was dat man — was Sirius Black a — a friend of yours?"
Harry nodded, looking completely lost. Mel realized someone had managed to slip away from her outburst: Bellatrix was still fighting with Kingsley. Anger rose up to her chest once more, but Dumbledore didn't let her move forward.
"Let me have her!" She yelled.
BANG!
Kingsley fell flat on the ground, Bellatrix tried to run for it and Dumbledore threw a spell, but she was fast enough to avoid it.
"Harry — no!"
"SHE KILLED SIRIUS!" Harry ran. "SHE KILLED HIM — I'LL KILL HER!"
Mel pushed Dumbledore aside and shouted 'Protego!' before anyone could try to stop them. They ran across the brain room and into the room full of doors, but this time neither Mel nor Harry had time for guessing.
"Where's the exit?!" Harry shouted. "Where's the way out?!"
The door behind them opened and they reached the elevator just as Bellatrix was leaving, Harry pushed the button to call a second lift and once inside Mel crouched, struggling to breathe. She didn't know how she still had the energy to do all this, but she didn't care as long as they could end that woman.
Bellatrix was in the middle of the entrance hall, she threw several spells their way but Mel made them bounce away with flicks of her wrist. However, a potent spell pushed her back, and Harry dragged her behind the fountain before Bellatrix could take advantage of the momentary slip.
"Come out, come out, little kiddies! What did you come after me for, then? I thought you were here to avenge my dear cousin! You were doing so well downstairs, you nutter!"
"We are!" Harry yelled.
"Aaaaaah... did you love him, little babies?" Bellatrix let out a peal of manic laughter. "Well, you're not the little babies, that filthy newborn is! Lucky for us we killed the father before he could ruin it! If we kill the mother too, we could raise their bastard on the right side of the family!"
Mel's stomach dropped, how did Bellatrix know about the baby? Where was her mother?
"Crucio!" Harry stood at the same time as her.
Mel once again lifted a protection spell around them, but this one came out slightly weaker.
"Never used an Unforgivable Curse before, have you, boy?" Bellatrix was now talking to them more like equals and less like infants. "You need to mean them, Potter! You need to really want to cause pain — to enjoy it — righteous anger won't hurt me for long — I'll show you how it is done, shall I? I'll give you a lesson — Crucio!"
Mel pointed her wand to the woman's feet and the ground exploded, causing her to lose balance and stumble back.
"You cannot win against me! I was and am the Dark Lord's most loyal servant, I learned the Dark Arts from him, and I know spells of such power that you, pathetic little children, can never hope to compete —"
"Stupefy!"
"Protego!"
Mel and Harry only had time to crawl back behind the fountain.
"I am going to give you one chance! Give me the prophecy — roll it out toward me now — and I may spare your life!"
"You're in no position to bargain," She said, the same way Lucius Malfoy had done it. "And we have bad news for you —"
"— You're going to have to kill us because it's gone!" Harry said, and he glanced briefly at Mel before wincing in pain. "And he knows!"
Mel couldn't feel this, probably because she was already hurting as well.
"Your dear old mate Voldemort knows it's gone!" He panted. "He's not going to be happy with you, is he?"
"What? What do you mean?"
"Mel smashed it! What do you think Voldemort'll say about that, then?"
The girl raised her injured hand and waved it around.
"See? I crushed that thing until there was nothing left!"
Her hand stung badly and she lowered it to rub it, smearing more blood on her skin.
"LIAR! YOU'VE GOT IT AND YOU WILL GIVE IT TO ME — Accio Prophecy! ACCIO PROPHECY!"
"Liar?" Mel spoke over Harry's insane laughter. "I'm a nutter! Crazy people never lie!"
"Nothing there!" Harry shouted. "Nothing to summon! It smashed and nobody heard what it said, tell your boss that —"
"No! It isn't true, you're lying — MASTER, I TRIED, I TRIED — DO NOT PUNISH ME —"
"Don't waste your breath!" Harry continued as Mel tried to heal her hand. "He can't hear you from here!"
"Can't I, Potter?"
She still remembered him from her visions, but it was nothing compared to the live version.
Tall, thin, and black-hooded, his terrible snakelike face white and gaunt, his scarlet, slit-pupiled eyes staring... Lord Voldemort had appeared in the middle of the hall, his wand pointing at Harry who stood frozen, quite unable to move.
Mel knew then that she would not survive, she was starting to feel tired.
"So you smashed my prophecy? No, Bella, they're not lying... I see the truth looking at me from within his worthless mind... Months of preparation, months of effort... and my Death Eaters have let Harry Potter thwart me again..."
His eyes moved to Mel, she used the remnants of her strength to keep him out of her mind and closed her eyes tightly, breathing heavily, Voldemort let out a quiet hiss.
"Miss Dumbledore, how nice to finally meet you... I see the rumours are true... Unfortunately, you're too young to be a real threat. Since it's been you who destroyed my prophecy, I'll have to kill you, but at least I'll make it fun to watch..."
"Master, I am sorry, I knew not, I was fighting the Animagus Black!" Bellatrix kneeled down in front him, Mel found the scene revolting. "Master, you should know —"
"Be quiet, Bella. I shall deal with you in a moment. Do you think I have entered the Ministry of Magic to hear your sniveling apologies?"
"But Master — he is here — he is below —"
"As for dearest Potter," He continued, ignoring the woman. "I have nothing more to say to you. You have irked me too often, for too long. AVADA KEDAVRA!"
[...] The headless golden statue of the wizard in the fountain had sprung alive, leaping from its plinth, and landed on the floor with a crash between Harry and Voldemort. The spell merely glanced off its chest as the statue flung out its arms, protecting Harry.
"What — ? Dumbledore!"
Mel's uncle was standing in front of the golden gates.
The statue of the witch ran at Bellatrix, who screamed and sent spells streaming uselessly off its chest, before it dived at her, pinning her to the floor. Meanwhile, the goblin and the house-elf scuttled toward the fireplaces set along the wall, and the one-armed centaur galloped at Voldemort, who vanished and reappeared beside the pool.
For some reason, none of the statues charged towards her, and Mel had the strange thought, that it was because her uncle knew she was done fighting.
"It was foolish to come here tonight, Tom," said Dumbledore. "The Aurors are on their way —"
"By which time I shall be gone, and you dead!
Dumbledore flicked his own wand. The force of the spell that emanated from it was such that Harry, though shielded by his stone guard, felt his hair stand on end as it passed, and this time Voldemort was forced to conjure a shining silver shield out of thin air to deflect it.
"You do not seek to kill me, Dumbledore? Above such brutality, are you?"
"We both know that there are other ways of destroying a man, Tom. Merely taking your life would not satisfy me, I admit —"
"There is nothing worse than death, Dumbledore!"
"You are quite wrong. Indeed, your failure to understand that there are things much worse than death has always been your greatest weakness —"
[...]Fawkes swooped down in front of Dumbledore, opened his beak wide, and swallowed the jet of green light whole. He burst into flame and fell to the floor, small, wrinkled, and flightless. At the same moment, Dumbledore brandished his wand in one, long, fluid movement — the snake, which had been an instant from sinking its fangs into him, flew high into the air and vanished in a wisp of dark smoke; the water in the pool rose up and covered Voldemort like a cocoon of molten glass —
For a few seconds Voldemort was visible only as a dark, rippling, faceless figure, shimmering and indistinct upon the plinth, clearly struggling to throw off the suffocating mass —
Then he was gone, and the water fell with a crash back into its pool, slopping wildly over the sides, drenching the polished floor.
"MASTER!" cried Bellatrix.
The girl tried to walk towards his uncle, Harry moved out of the statue's grip.
"Stay where you are!" Dumbledore ordered.
Both froze, waiting for something, anything... Then Mel's body burst into flames.
Next Chapter —>
Taglist.
@dee123ksha @vampiregirl1797 @siriuslysirius1107 @stardusthigh @mikariell95 @vernon-dursley @thesuitelifeofafangirl @tomshollandz @kylosleftbuttcheek @reverse-hxlland @bloodorangemoonlight @omiwashere @t-rexs-world @just-here-to-escape-from-reality @21bruhs @i-am-scared-and-useless-bisexual @dielgonacoffee @thelastpyle
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Hi! I noticed your comment on gnarfs fic recs and was wondering what are you favourite fics and which you would recommend :)
oH it would not be an exaggeration to say I’ve been waiting for this ask since practically the day I created my blog lol (I’m so excited!!)
I do have a fic rec list sitting in my drafts (tagged forever ago by @rockmarina and still haven’t found the time to complete 😭) but oh dear here we go! In no particular order:
Running on Air by eleventy7
Draco Malfoy has been missing for three years. Harry is assigned the cold case and finds himself slowly falling in love with the memories he collects.
This fic is so beautiful it will break your heart without you even knowing it and you will be left aching for days. It will forever be my favorite fic and it is the most beautiful fic I have ever read—it is the one that brought me into Drarry when I didn’t even ship them! The loneliness is so well captured, the scenes so beautifully described, and both the suspense and the emotional storylines are so well crafted. td;lr: please go read this stunningly beautiful fic I promise you won’t be disappointed
The Lip-Lock Jinx by cassisluna
It's a jinx that renders the victim mute, unless he/she serves the purpose of the jinx and kisses the person that they desire. It's just Harry's luck that he's in love with Draco. HPDM, one-shot, eighth year.
Already fussed over it once but here we are again! Eighth-year fic, Draco is quieter but still witty, Harry is clumsy in his affections, Ginny is brilliant. It’s so soft you will place your hand on your chest and sigh, you will smile helplessly because your heart is brimming with softness. A dose of this fic on a bad day and I promise you will feel just the bit better.
Stop All the Clocks (This Is the Last Time I’m Leaving Without You) by firethesound
Living with Draco was difficult; living without him is unbearable. But if there’s one thing Harry learned from the war, it’s that even when one life ends, the rest of the world goes right on living.
Warning: MCD, it is—oh dear it is the angstiest fic I have ever read. It tore my heart out of my chest and it is so, so good. The writing is beautiful, I love the way Draco and Harry’s relationship progressed, I adore their characterization, how they bicker and care. Harry’s road to recovery is rocky and winding but it is,, so genuine. (I also adore the structure of this fic lol, the two timelines are weaved together seamlessly and it just fascinated me!) This fic will leave the most beautiful scar in your heart but really, if you can afford it, it is so worth it.
Grounds for Divorce by tepre
Malfoy finds a coin. Harry finds a letter.
A story about histories, a story about families. A story about a lemon tree somewhere in Upper Egypt.
This is, like, the slowest slow burn of all slow burns. It’s a bond fic, as you will discover pretty soon into the story—but it proceeds so differently than I ever expected. It is messy, beautiful, winding, Harry and Draco proceed to take the same freakin path two thousand times without ever reaching the destination—but it’s all good, and you see the beauty in the messiness because that is how life is. And when they finally get themselves together it’s just, so sweet you can’t stop smiling and you can feel their happiness, so close to your heart. It’s a slow journey and you have to take it with them if you want to see it bear fruit, and you realize in the end it doesn’t matter how winding the paths are, because you were always going to reach that place. And stay. Like I lie in bed at one a.m. and I think about how Draco and Harry are sleeping together in Grimmauld and I wanna tear up. The prose is beautiful, and messy like the story itself, and I just adore the way everything is described, so authentic, and the way the start of the end is the beginning (no spoilers yes?) Go read it and afterwards sit at the same place for twenty minutes in complete awe and content
The Generation Who Lived by lettersbyelise
In the months leading up to the 10th anniversary of the Battle of Hogwarts, Draco Malfoy writes a series of articles about war survivors.
So far, he’s managed to interview everyone he wanted.
Everyone...except his old nemesis, his one-time lover, and the elusive war hero who stubbornly refuses to be featured in Draco’s interview series; Harry Potter.
This fic tackles so many different aspects of consent—and weaves them into the story itself so well. There are many controversial topics, and they were explored with honesty: nothing is shunned, nothing is avoided, there are many voices that challenge what you really think. And these are the best kind of fics, really. I especially love the characterization of Luna, because it is so difficult to get her right—but she is, wonderfully candid in her whimsical way, tripping you over in your own thought. I love Draco and Harry’s story as well, the misunderstanding and the miscommunication—the confrontation, a reminder for a lot of us that being upfront and honest is so so important. The way Draco is neither redeemed nor un-redeemed yet trying in his own way is also very dear to me.
Sharing Different Heartbeats and Let Them Wash Off in the Rain by talithan
Before Harry ever saw Draco’s room, before they ever shared a greasy order of chips or long-held secrets, before Draco’s boss ever tried to chat up Harry, they hadn’t even exchanged mobile numbers. To be fair, Draco didn’t have a mobile then.
*
It’s Harry’s first time in New York City, and he is determined to have a good time. How Draco Malfoy figures into this remains to be seen.
I recently discovered them and just, ahhh. Completely adore them! They are not related, just by the same author. Both are so gentle and it feels as if nothing really important is happening—and nothing is—but the feelings are there all the same, gentle too. It’s like sitting by the window listening to soft rain. The sky is grey, the lights are dim, and you’re not really thinking about anything... just listening to the rain falling...
These are some of my absolute favorites! There are many more, (so many more,) and if you’d like you can check the bookmarked recommendations on my ao3! (It’s a messy, rumpled place but) here are a few of them:
fly like paper, high like planes by harryromper
Harry Potter, Head Coach of the Appleby Arrows, is very content leading a quiet life. He has a doddery old house-elf who makes his breakfast, a team of players who love Quidditch almost as much as he does, and a Kneazle that curls against his damaged leg at the foot of his bed at night. The absolute last thing he needs is a fit, tattooed, and wildly talented Draco Malfoy back from living his life on the margins. Soon he’s dealing with goblins for the first time since the war, traveling to Prague, eating dodgy squid, and maybe, just maybe, accepting that Quidditch, Malfoy, and even Harry himself are still capable of change.
(I love Draco covered in tattoos, Draco with a family in Prague, Harry with disability, Harry and his kneazle, amazing OC’s)
Reigniting Harry Potter (A Task For Draco Malfoy) by QueenofThyme
Harry Potter is depressed and won't leave his house, or his bed if he can help it. Hermione has the bright idea to send Draco Malfoy over, who is surprisingly gentler than Harry realised, and might actually just be able to reignite a spark in Harry...if he stops being an arrogant prat of course.
(It’s a gentle story, I love the ending and the description of Harry’s depression just feels really genuine)
To Hurt and Heal by cassisluna
They say that everybody who gets out of Azkaban comes out a little mad. After the war, Draco Malfoy spends three months in Azkaban. He just wants to go insane in peace, but Harry Potter finds that he, inexplicably, still can't leave Draco alone.
(It’s. Heartbreaking and tender all at once)
Don’t let go by parkkate
When Draco ends up having to take care of Teddy’s new pet, he’s sure the universe is trying to torture him. Little does he know things are about to get so much worse. And of course, it involves one Harry Potter.
(The amount of cuddles is atrocious in the fic, I repeat, atrocious. The depth is also amazing and unexpected)
Take Into the Air (My Quiet Breath) by GuardianMira
Draco is dying of Hanahaki Disease. Serves him right, Harry thinks.
(But this is, like, the perfect Hanahaki disease fic. The perfect blend of angst and tension and relationship development with a heartbreaking, beautiful ending.)
Four Times Harry was Late...and One Time He was Late again by dracogotgame
Title says it all
(FLUFF. LOTS OF THEM. And it’s so clever you want to throw your phone across the room and clutch your heart and AWWWWWW, you’ll know it when you get there)
Talk to Me by Saras_Girl
When the usual channels of communication are shut down, the most surprising people can find a way in. A strange little love story.
(The setting is similar to The Lip-Lock Jinx, so very sweet!)
Slow Hands by eleventy7
Blood, shadows, and paper hearts. The Shadow hunts students, but Draco Malfoy most of all.
(This is,, beautiful. Gentle. Quiet, like when you wake up early before dawn and no one else is up.)
Everything a Word Can Mean and Constant Flux by rockmarina
In a world where magical people are born with the nickname their soulmate will call them by tattooed on their skin... what does it mean that the word on Harry's chest is the thing he hates to be called the most?
*
Harry Potter is the one constant in Draco's life, only each time in a very different way.
(These are just. Soft. Fluff. The first one is so poetic I love it so much, the second one gave me so much Feels)
Inferno by jadepresley
If he was ice then she was the fire, and though he loved her he was quite certain they were destined to destroy one another in the end.
(Okay this one is not Drarry but it will BLOW YOUR MIND. Seriously, the writing is so beautiful, the story so vivid, so strong. It will ring in your mind)
There we go! There are so many more fics I would gladly rec only this post is getting quite long. I would also recommend you check out the rest of an authors’ works if the first one you read fascinates you, you won’t be disappointed!
#fic rec#drarry fic rec#this took me QUITE A WHILE#to assemble and agonize over which ones I should include#as proven by the repeating there are many more!!!#and the formatting#I'm so sorry if it's messy#I literally squeaked in delight when I received this ask#thank u lovely anon
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Twelve years ago today, UPN (RIP!) premiered a cult-classic neo-noir about murder, class warfare, sexual assault, and forbidden love. It was quippy and campy and smart as hell—and it just happened to center on a pint-sized blonde who looked like a cheerleader but thought like Sherlock Holmes. The show was Veronica Mars, and even if the last decade has muddled its legacy with a much-hyped but ultimately disappointing fan-funded follow-up film and, of course, the extremely meh third season, the high school years remain an unparalleled success. Veronica Mars seasons one and two were better than anything that had come before, far surpassed its competition in quality, and set a high bar for future shows that has only barely been met by a few episodes of television here and there. So give my regards to Friday Night Lights (a family show, not a teen show) and Degrassi (please), but Veronica Mars is the best teen show of all time*.
1. Nuanced Class Conflict
Gossip Girl and The OC did it well, but Veronica Mars did it better. Even though Neptune, CA, is technically fictional, it's as real a place as has ever been portrayed on television. Its particular problems and reputation informed everything from law enforcement (the question of whether or not to incorporate the town into a city and make the sheriff's office into a police department) to the biker gangs riding through on their way up and down the PCH. The levels of privilege/lack thereof were so nuanced and specific. Other shows divide people into the Haves and the Have Nots; on Veronica Mars, everyone has something a little different. At the bottom of the socioeconomic ladder is Weevil, whose background is not only impoverished but criminal; the only community he can "afford" is a gang (though his crew isn't all bad—you'll find nary a broad stroke or generalization in the world of Veronica Mars). In the center of things are Veronica and Keith, who lived comfortably when Keith was sheriff, but have buckled their belts since he became a private eye. On the one hand, they own a small business! On the other, they live in a pretty crap apartment complex and have nowhere near enough saved to send Veronica to college. Then there's the nouveau-riche Echolls', who have all the glamorous trappings of wealth (cars, booze, mansion) and pretty much none of the cultural capital. At the top of the heap are the Kanes; while the Echolls' have enough money to "get away" with murder, the Kanes have enough money to get away with it, cover it up, frame someone else for it, and get the sheriff fired for looking into it. Money problems are basically the least-juicy of TV plots, but by using wealth disparity as a way to develop the characters, essentially building it into the DNA of the show, Veronica Mars created a TV universe just as interesting and complicated as that of Friday Night Lights or Parks and Recreation.
2. Lianne Mars
A girl with a missing mom is a fairy tale trope as old as time, rooted in a deification-of-the-female version of misogyny that I don't have time to get into right now. Suffice it to say, a dead or absentee mother is usually a sign of lazy writing. It's a way to reduce the character count and set a heroine adrift while, not coincidentally, making it so the (usually male) writer doesn't have to think of what a grown woman would think or talk or act like. At first, this is the fate of Veronica's mother, Lianne Mars. She was just conveniently...gone, another casualty of the fallout from the Lilly Kane murder investigation. Her absence lets Veronica be angsty and ill-supervised even as Keith Mars entered the canon of Bestest TV Dads of All Time (which he is! Love Keith forever and ever). But then she came back, with baggage, and the trope was, if not redeemed, at least put to good use. Lianne is an alcoholic who couldn't deal with the disappointing turns life took, and she finally cracked when her husband ran directly into conflict with her lost love Jake Kane, for whom she still pined. Even when she decides she wants to be a mom again, she can't quit being an alcoholic. And as heartbreaking as it is to watch Veronica play the parent, it's also a moment of growth. Veronica realizes—or rather, decides—that she isn't doomed to repeat her mother's mistakes. She is a stronger, better person than Lianne. A person big enough to love her flawed mother, even strong enough to forgive her. In the third episode, Veronica says, "The hero is the one that stays, and the villain is the one that splits." By the end of the series, Veronica has learned what true villainy looks like, and it ain't her mom. Showrunners, take note: This is how you do a realistic redemption story.
3. The Guest Stars and Bit Players
The casting department at Veronica Mars did flawless work. Obviously, the core cast is great, but the semi-regulars and guests are also amazing. There's an entire season devoted to Steve fucking Guttenberg. Lisa Rinna and Harry Hamlin play the negaverse versions of themselves. Ryan Hansen and Ken Marino do their Ryan Hansen/Ken Marino Shtick, and why shouldn't they? Max Greenfield (a.k.a. Schmidt on New Girl) and Tessa Thompson (from Dear White People and Creed) both had recurring roles long before they were famous, and even Tina Majorino (Mac) and Michael Muhney (Lamb), who didn't really "break out" in a major way after the show, are perfect in their roles. The second (SECOND) IMDb credit for one Jessica Chastain is an episode of Veronica Mars, and of course, Leighton Meester appears in two episodes. Yes, there are other teen shows that feature young actors who went on to bigger, better things, but I maintain that Veronica Mars is notable for encouraging real actors to do real work.
4. The Mysteries Were Smart AF
The show trusted its audience to keep up and pay attention. Maybe even a little too much. In the era before binge-watching and old episodes being able on demand, Veronica Mars suffered from the same issue that plagues the first few seasons of The X Files: Viewers who weren't "caught up" on the season-long mystery arc found it difficult to get into. VM had low ratings throughout its run, and when it used the shift from high school to college to introduce shorter, quicker mysteries, well, we all know how season three went. But looking back, it's clear that the show was ahead of its time, telling smart, twist-y weekly stories while teasing out a longer mystery that deeply impacted the main characters' lives. (Can't you just imagine how they'd advertise the show now? Moody teaser trailers with the tag line "Who Killed Lilly Kane?" and fansites and podcasts devoted to all the clues and hints and easter eggs from every episode?) There are other teen mystery/crime-fighter shows, sure, but they tend to put their characters in immediate peril, which makes the audience ask, "What's going to happen?" Instead, Veronica Mars is an intellectual exercise, evidence and theory based, and the question becomes, "What has already happened, and what does it mean?" That's the kind of meaty writing that inspires, if not legions of fans, a loyal audience to sing its praises. Veronica Mars was so smart it was niche. I'm not making a case for VM as overlooked prestige television, but then again I totally am. WHY didn't it win any Emmys?
5. They Didn't Explain Every Little Thing
See: above "trusting the audience smartness" factor. They didn't explain why sleeping with a "consenting" teenager is still wrong, or why Logan and Veronica went from adversaries to lovers in the space of like, a week, or why money equals power. They got that the audience got it. So, the exact opposite of a show like, say, Secret Life of the American Teenager. There were episodes that touched on privilege and entitlement and infidelity and the abuse of power by law enforcement, but it was subtle and real instead of, you know...Degrassi.
6. The Humor
It wasn't dark and humorous, it was darkly humorous and humorously dark. (Think combining the creepy weirdness of Twin Peaks with the banter of Moonlighting.) Logan's poignant answering machine messages, Veronica's epic takedowns, even Lamb got to be withering and snarky while he systematically fucked over the whole town.The humor kept us invested even when stories dipped into sentimental, Dawson's Creek-esque territory and deflected the romance-y moments that might have turned it into a mystery-style Felicity. Veronica's and Logan's jokes, in particular, also serve a psychological purpose: mask their pain at any cost. Unlike in Gilmore Girls, where every character speaks like a hyper-intelligent stand-up comic and not at all like a teenager or real human being, Veronica and the residents of Neptune make comments that feel true to their characters and relevant to their circumstances. If you watched any episode of Scream Queens and thought, "I guess they're trying to imitate...Scream? Heathers? Clueless? With the smart/bitchy blondes and the snappy comebacks and the eye rolls?" I understand. But actually, they were trying (and failing. Hard.) to do Veronica Mars. Smart sassy cute mean heart of gold flirty clever repartee? Yeah, that's Veronica Mars, and Ryan Murphy, bless his soul, is not Rob Thomas.
7. The Rape Plot(s)
From the very first episode when, in a flashback, golden-haired, white dress-clad Veronica walks, almost in a stupor (have you ever seen a more "perfect" victim?) into the sheriff's office to tell Lamb that she was raped—because she is a good girl and good girls go to the authorities—only to have him, basically, shrug it off, rape and sexual assault were core themes of the show, central to its purpose and story engine. Creator Rob Thomas initially envisioned the story as a YA novel with a male protagonist, and changing the lead's gender to female is arguably the best and most important decision he ever made. Veronica's sexuality is everything. How she flirts her way out of scrapes, plays innocent when it can help her, distrusts it when she's attracted to the "wrong" person, is allowed to enjoy it with Logan and, of course, how her virginity was taken from her one night she can't quite remember. The show takes Veronica's rape seriously as not just a plot point or easy motivation, but as a defining part of her character. She cleans obsessively and looks over her shoulder. She's sensitive to the potential aggressors—and victims—at her school. She knows that her rapist was someone she knew, and she has to live with that mystery every day. But it's complicated. That night she can't remember might have been semi-consensual, but then we learn, no it wasn't. Yes, there's a story about a false rape accusation (against Adam Scott!), but the truth only makes the situation murkier. And in an unfortunately rare move, Veronica Mars also depicts the aftermath of the sexual abuse of boys, including an exploration of how the stigma against male assault survivors re-traumatizes them. (The third season is, in my opinion, a missed opportunity to tackle the campus rape epidemic. By blaming the rapes on a psychological experiment gone awry, the show unfortunately ignores the fact that toxic masculinity isn't a role-playing aberration but a pervasive national issue. But its heart is in the right place, if not its logic.)
8. Veronica
Choker-wearing, dog-owning, private-detectiving blonde badass Veronica Mars. She's most often compared to Buffy, that other crime-fighting cutie with a ragtag army of friends and a ne'er do well love interest, and the comparison is apt. Both possess skills their peers do not and use those skills to solve problems both thrust upon them and sought. But the difference is that in the space that Buffy uses to explore the supernatural, Veronica Mars plays with loyalty and ethics. Is it wrong to snitch on your friends? Is a rumor evidence? Can you break the law to serve a higher good? These are issues Buffy doesn't wrestle with; it's pretty much a given that evil vampires are worth defeating (yes, there are definitely instances when Buffy is tested because she's fallen for a vamp or one of her friends is possessed or whatever, but that's not like, the thing of the show). And while so many other "outsider/observer/new kid" teen show protagonists (Ryan, Dan, Dawson, Lindsay Weir) long to get "in," Veronica's been there. She's been popular, and (a little) wealthy. She's not exploring a new world, she's re-learning her old one. In that she has more in common with Angela Chase, but way less whiny. You watch My So-Called Life and think, I'm totally Angela. You watch VMand think, I wish I were Veronica. When people talk about the strong but vulnerable but smart but flawed but cool but real but beautiful but relatable but empowered but conflicted but modern but iconic but a good role model but not unattainable with a job not defined by that job "interesting" female characters on television, a few names tend to come up again and again: Carrie, Murphy, Ally, Roseanne, Olivia, Dana. To that (very white!) pantheon I humbly submit: Veronica.
*....except for Freaks and Geeks.
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Coffee
Chapter One
Chapter Eighteen
Disclaimer: I do not own the characters from The Riot Club/Posh, and all OCs were beautifully crafted by @club-riot
"Rise and shine!" Toby clapped his hands several times until everyone was awake.
Honora rubbed the sleep from her eyes and yawned. She had overslept. She was usually awake far earlier than ten in the morning. She went to rub her eyes again and realized she was restricted. Then the weight against her shoulder and back registered to her head.
"Morning dearest," A groggy male voice peered over her shoulder. Honora looked down to see he was hugging her. She turned her head to see a shirtless Harry Villiers smirking down at her.
"Get off!" She pushed his arms off her and sat up on the floor, flustered. If there weren't so many others around or if she were drinking, she definitely wouldn't have pushed him away. She didn't realize how cold the room was until she lost the contact with his warm chest. She'd never admit it out loud though.
"Elizabeth's not waking up," Guy looked at the sleeping girl hesitantly.
"Just wait till her alarm goes off, you could hit that girl with a chair and she wouldn't wake up," Poppy laughed, "She'll wake up when she wants,"
"Come on, I smell toast and I am hungry!" Ed looked as though he was about to jump down the staircase with eagerness.
"Calm down, calm down," George patted his shoulder lightly. They made their way downstairs, Harry rebuttoning his shirt as they went, leaving the ones who were still asleep in their unconscious states.
"Oh! You're all up!" Elena excitedly chirped from the massive breakfast table.
"You look so awake," Miles marvelled at her energy.
"I really love the morning," Elena basically yelled.
"Mum, inside voices please," Honora sat down at the table, pouring herself some juice.
"You little shit," Elena smirked as she buttered her toast, "There's fruit and toast and croissants, feel free to coffee and juice,"
"And Greek yogurt?" Guy smirked, waiting for a laugh.
"Yes actually, right there," Elena nodded, pointing to a tray on the table. Guy awkwardly felt obligated to take one then, having mentioned it. He really brought it on himself.
"Thank you for letting us all stay here," Poppy smiled at Elena, picking at a croissant.
"Oh it's nothing. I'm glad to have you here," She smiled back.
"Where's your dad?" Harry asked Honora.
"Working," She said, "He and my uncle, Dimitri's dad, work together, he only comes home for big events,"
"A charity dinner isn't a big event?" Imogen shot her a sad look.
"Dear, we're very grateful for all the work he does for us and the business," Elena cut in before Honora could say anything, "He makes his time off count, he's always here when it matters,"
"She organized the entire dinner alone," Honora looked at her mother with a small smile.
"Now hang on," Dimitri raised his hand, "What about my mother?"
"Your mum bought the Greek yogurts," Guy stated as he ate said yogurt.
"Yes, Sophia was very good to order those in," Elena nodded, taking everything so seriously, "I knew you kids would like them,"
Just then the remaining members of the group dawdled down the stairs, still sleepy looking, particularly Elizabeth.
"Ah you're awake," George grinned as they sat down at the table.
"Elizabeth's alarm went off, scared the shit out of me," James laughed.
"I said sorry," She pretended it was a life or death situation, something that made him laugh more.
"Morning," Dimitri greeted Tamsin who sat next to him.
"Morning," She smirked, kissing his cheek.
"Get a room," Toby snorted.
"Uh, this is a room," Dimitri rolled his eyes as he and Tamsin intertwined each others fingers.
"It's a room in my house and I support my nephew's choices," Elena dabbed a napkin over her lips and got up from her chair, "Tamsin comes from a fine family, they may behave as they please," She touched Dimitri's shoulder as she left the room.
"My family is fine," Tamsin beamed with clear smugness.
"What is the plan for today?" James asked as he grabbed an apple for himself.
"We get dressed," Ed almost immediately answered.
"Yes, Ed, well done," James nodded, "I mean, do you need us to go at a certain time, Honora?"
"I can stay as long as you like," Harry touched her arm as he spoke, sending shivers jolting up her spine.
"I say we go for a walk," George spoke up, shoveling bacon and toast into his mouth as if it were his job.
"Splendid," Miles nodded in agreement, "It's a lovely area,"
"Okay so, we're eating breakfast, getting dressed and then going walking?" Toby summed up.
"But how can we?" Imogen looked genuinely concerned, "I don't have the appropriate footwear,"
"You're already wearing my pajamas, I'll lend you some boots," Honora shook her head.
"Can you pass me the coffee please?" Elizabeth turned to Guy and asked.
"Yeah, sure," He put the yogurt down and it fell on its side and he tried to put it up again but it fell over from the weight of the spoon.
"Here, Lizzy," Dimitri handed her the glass jug of hot coffee, fed up of watching Guy failing to complete a simple request.
"Thank you," She smiled, somewhat weakly, pouring herself a cup of the piping hot beverage.
"You alright, Lizzy?" Toby asked her.
"Just tired," She replied, "I didn't get much sleep,"
"Did you not bring your-?"
"I didn't think I'd need to," Elizabeth stopped Poppy from asking her question. She already knew what she was going to ask, "It's a simple mistake on my behalf but some caffeine should fix me right up,"
"Sorry, what's this?" Alistair looked at her with mild interest.
"They're just...," Elizabeth trailed off, noticing how everyone was paying attention to her. Guy's eyes were glued to her, unblinking, "Um.. They're just tablets that help me sleep. I left them in my dorm,"
"Ah, an insomniac," Alistair nodded, reaching for his juice.
"It's normal," Elizabeth shrugged it off, acting like the blush on her face wasn't there and growing.
"It is you know, my mum is one too," Ed pointed at her. Toby scoffed and Ed looked at him funny, "What?"
"Since when is your mum normal?"
Chapter Twenty
#the riot club#guybellingfield#fanfiction#harry villiers#dimitri mitropoulos#edmontgomery#tobymaitland#alistair ryle#milesrichards#laurensmall#james leighton-masters#hugo fraser-tyrwhitt#george balfour#riot club#character x oc#posh#guybellingfieldxoc
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Post fanfic sadness *huehuee
Does anyone else feel this lonely, empty feeling after reading or watching something (especially if it’s a long piece) ??
A few days ago, I finished reading this little masterpiece of a fanfiction, and it has remained stuck with me ever since. The imagery and words are still circling my mind, and because of the sad content of the fic, I’m still crying OoO.
I shall link said fanfiction here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3948538/chapters/8851621 https://www.fanfiction.net/s/11240489/1/A-Tale-of-Two-Sides
(This is a Regulus Black - from Harry Potter - fanfiction and it mainly features Sirius, James, Rabstan and an OC)
It has been a while since a fanfiction has affected me this much. I was crying across multiple chapters and (this may be disgusting) when I tear up, my nose tends to run. So it came to a point where I was in front of my laptop with a wad of tissues pressed to my nose - I can’t breathe, I’ve got tears streaming down my face but I had to keep reading.
And I sat there for a good cry afterwards. It is well past midnight, the feels are still as present as ever and I’m saaaaaaaad. HOW CAN YOU DO THIS TO MY POOR HEARTTT? I feel like I’ve lost a friend. It’s like I’ve always entered this world that the writer created for these characters, and yes it’ll always be there but it feels like I don’t have it anymore. The characters will go on without me and I’ll never know what happens.
Oh dear I’m sooooo dRaMaTiC! But this is important to me. Fiction (of any sort) has always been very real to me.
#pls tell me you understand#fan problems#harry potter#regulus black#fanfiction#harry potter fanfiction#regulus black fanfiction#my heart uwu
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From beyond the shroud, SIRIUS BLACK of HARRY POTTER has arrived in Ithaca. Has anyone ever told you that you look quite a bit like ROB RACO except with a MARAUDER’S MAP WITH THE NAME PADFOOT ETCHED UPON IT, A JET-BLACK DOG WITH IT’S PAW PRINT PRESSED AGAINST A PRISON BAR, LONG BLACK HAIR EYE COLOR GREY AS THE MOON, & THE HOUSE OF GRYFFINDOR SYMBOL DOUSED IN BLACK vibe ? According to our records, you are 23 and identify as CISMALE with HE&HIM used to address you. You’ll find you’ve already been given a place to stay, so long as you’re working hard as a BARTENDER/CRIMINAL. And, what’s that, you DO remember BEING IMPRISONED IN AZKABAN? (sessho, 18+, she/her)
down below
SIRIUS BLACK
:: // IDENTITY
full name: sirius black
alias: sirius, padfoot, prisoner of azkaban, marauder, snuffles, stubby boardman, grim
date of birth: november 3, 1959
age: 23
place of birth: london, england
occupation: bartender/criminal
marital status: single
sexual & romantic orientations: homosexual & homoromantic
gender identity: cismale
religion: marauder n/a
:: // RELATIONSHIPS
their parents: orion and walburga black. sirius never had a good relationship with his parents, especially his mother, let alone his family lineage. his family, the house of black, were pure-bloods. elitists, who believed that, in order to keep their family line “pure” insisted that their family members must breed within their own pure-blood classes. because of these beliefs, they were forced to marry their own cousins. sirius rejected these beliefs, and defied tradition when he was the first black sorted into the gryffindor house. sirius is the black sheep of the family.
their siblings: regulus black. sirius didn’t share a close relationship with his younger brother, either. though he’d believed him to be “a better son” than himself. after he’d died, sirius became the last remaining heir to the house of black.
their significant other : n/a
any children?: n/a
any wanted connections? the last marauder, family members, friends, enemies, & maybe some bar regulars & prison mates. the last marauder, PETER PETTIGREW since we already have three marauders. family members like his brother, REGULUS BLACK, but also cousins and in-laws and such to the black family like, BELLATRIX LESTRANGE, NARCISSA MALFOY, LUCIUS MALFOY, NYMPHADORA TONKS, and ANDROMEDA TONKS, people he would know. his godson HARRY POTTER, please bring us harry, he’d be pure with him *cries*. harry’s friends, HERMIONE GRANGER and RON WEASLEY, and the rest of the weasley family. LILY EVANS/POTTER, depending on how the mun would want to play her, and ANY fandom characters outside of his fandom, who we could plot and become friends with sirius. LOKI LAUFEYSON might like sirius too! although sirius’ closest friends/family are the marauders. i’d also love for sirius to meet SAM and DEAN WINCHESTER from SUPERNATURAL, since rob was literally in the show once. or other SPN fandom characters, like CASTIEL, JACK, maybe CROWLEY? enemies, SEVERUS SNAPE, but i also have this interesting idea for enemies: if the founders of the hogwarts houses are playable, then sirius meeting SALAZAR SLYTHERIN i’d love to plot and would be super interesting! since his entire family are slytherins, but sirius is a gryffindor. also, want some OC ideas? then how about some OC DEATH EATERS? maybe some who recognize sirius from his brother, or not. some regulars who show up at the speakeasy sirius works at ( oc or fandom ), and maybe some OC PRISON MATES, wizards he met/heard about him in prison.
:: // IN DEPTH
current canon: sirius is canon up to his first year in azkaban prison. book-wise, i dunno, because i haven’t read the books. movie-wise? way before harry potter and the prisoner of azkaban.
memories: sirius remembers everything up to his imprisonment in azkaban. he remembers the marauders and the marauder’s map, becoming an animagi, lily and james’ wedding and deaths, the first wizarding war, breaking ties with dear remus, being betrayed by pettigrew, and so on. everything after him breaking out of prison like, meeting teenage harry, the second wizarding war, and his death, he doesn’t remember. so basically, he doesn’t remember anything from the prisoner of azkaban movie and later hp movies. he does remember being taken from a prison floor to the sandy beach of ithaca. so sirius had not broken out of prison at that point in his life. he’d been transported elsewhere, for the sake of the rp. so, to HP muses, sirius is still considered a criminal in their world. he hasn’t been exonerated or anything yet, but in ithaca, people outside the hp fandom don’t know he’s a criminal. i imagine, in the wizarding world, he’s still considered dangerous, even though he’s really not.
theme song: n/a
3 likes &. 3 dislikes: likes causing trouble, dogs, & the time spent with the marauders. dislikes his family, peter pettigrew, being in an enclosed space for too long.
the usual haunt: as a bartender at the speakeasy club, on the beach, occasionally hanging around the university, or various places around ithaca!
skills: wizarding skills. he is also an animagus! an animagus is a witch or wizard who can transform into an animal. his animagus form is a black dog, which harry believed was a grim but really wasn’t. sirius is also a bit of a trickster, and he also can be very stealthy.
ANYTHING ELSE?
sirius’ wiki! if you have any questions, never read/watched harry potter, they could be answered there. i know it’s a long read, but it’s worth it! it’s how i found out more about sirius.
i *sweats* have never played sirius, and there’s a reason for that. i’ve loved his character since i saw prisoner of azkaban, but i thought, since i hadn’t read the books, hp fans were gonna grill me for trying to play this character having not read anything! and, i thought i’d suck. but, i’m gonna try now cause his more in-depth bio makes him so interesting to me! i will try my best. not. to. suck.
sirius comes off as this rebellious, bad boy. handsome af, but he’s really not as bad as he’s made out to be. he’s actually very loyal and intelligent. and he does have a heart. this bad boy persona is made worse from his title as a criminal and for his “crimes”. his good looks i guess don’t help much either, but for the people who don’t know him, even some of his family members, may believe him to be some sort of disappointment, bad boy, bad guy. yes, i do realize that he and james bullied snape while they were still at hogwarts (which was not okay). for the sake of this rp, the muns, and my own anti-bullying beliefs, i will say that was something sirius did in the past and was wrong, and i will not rp sirius bullying snape again, for everybody’s safety. i don’t want it to get personal and i realize bullying is a trigger for some people (sometimes even me). so they can be enemies, jus no bullying. prison’s kinda changed sirius too, so he’s not one to bully so easily anymore.
to not insult any british muns we have either, i won’t be using any britsh slang that the characters have used in the books/movies. i don’t want to use them in the wrong form and upset anyone so. he’ll speak regularly, jus imagine him with a british accent!
i think i read, in the books, sirius doesn’t have tattoos after he escapes, while in the movie he does. i’m going to say sirius does have them, but not as many, since he’s only been there for a year. they were branded on him for his crimes.
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WIP!
I was tagged by the very talented and ridiculously sweet @nauticalparamour to talk about my current WIPs…Thanks for tagging me, Dear!
Bound to the Light [Hermione Granger x Remus Lupin]
My first successful multichapter! This is a story about what you will do for someone your love, and each character shows it in a different way. One is willing to leave the only way of life she’s ever known. One is willing to put aside his reservations and help a society that wants nothing more than to see him dead. One is willing to learn to accept himself for what he does, not what he is. At the end of the day are they willing to give up enough to change the outcome of the war?
> Werewolf!Hermione, Parent!Fenrir AU
Ferocity [Hermione Granger x Antonin Dolohov]
This one is still heavily in the planning stages. I feel like this story is going to be aa lot more complex than I originally thought. When Hermione ends up carrying the child of the Dark Lord she finds herself in the center of a new prophecy and on the run from the dark and light sides. Escaping, she is taken in by the underground resistance and finds that the people who make up the resistance aren't who she’d imagined. When it’s found that there is a mole in the ranks, Hermione is sent off to a remote part of Russia with just her two protectors for company. She immediately finds a friend in Reuben Yaxley, but can she ever get on with the stoic Russian man that has previously tried to kill her not once, but twice? And what happens when Hermione decides the only way to provide a life for her baby is to end the war herself?
> Post-Hogwarts AU, Enemies to Lovers, Hermione is a bad ass, Order/Dumbledore/Weasley bashing, This fic will be full of rare pairs <3
Bound to You [Fenrir Greyback x Calia Malfoy (OC)]
I am unsure if this is going to be a one-shot or a short multi-chapter yet. What I do know is this fic is going to show how Fenrir and Calia came to be. It’ll cover her relationship with her family and her betrothed and their reactions to her leaving them behind for Fenrir. If it’s a one shot it’ll end at their bonding, but a multi-chapter will end with Calia finding tiny Hermione in the woods.
> Prequel to Bound to the Light, Romance with some drama
Kiss is all better [Hermione Granger x Draco Malfoy]
I actually have this one shot completely written, it just needs more editing. This is a tragic story about a man’s reaction to losing the love of his life.
> Super sad tearjerker
Her Gilded Cage (Name pending) [Hermione Granger x Fenrir Greyback]
This is an idea that has been in the back of my mind for a while, but I haven’t done much with. It’s going to be an AU where Albus Dumbledore is the king of the great Kingdom of Hogsmeade. When the Dark Kind Voldemort, from the Kingdom of Knockturn, begins attacking them King Dumbledore seeks the help of a pack of werewolves from the nearby woods. In order to secure the help, he gives his only daughter’s hand in marriage to the leader of the wolves. Hermione is not impressed by being used as a bargaining tool and makes it known to both her father and new husband. What she doesn’t expect is her new husband to open her eyes to the world she didn’t know existed.
> Kingdom AU?, Werewolves, Drama with a whole lot of Romance.
Lightning Round:
Unnamed: Dudley/Hermione - When traveling after the final battle, Hermione meets who she thinks is the perfect guy for her. They have a wonderful month long relationship but he breaks it off when his family finds out she's a witch. Heartbroken, Hermione returns to the wizarding world, only to find out she’s pregnant. Imagine her surprise when 3 years later she shows up to Harry’s home for Christmas, only to find herself face to face with the father of her child, Harry’s cousin Dudley.
Unnamed: Dramione/Hansy- Draco and Harry are sent Into the future to live for a week. Nothing is as they'd expect.
Unnamed: Harry x Hermione - After becoming very close during their time alone while hunting Horcruxes Hermione expects after the final battle she and Harry will be together. She finds herself heartbroken when he declares his feelings for Ginny. Taking the first job she can in an attempt to escape her heartbreak, Hermione soon relocates to France. Through the years she remains very close with Ron, and is ecstatic when he asks her to stand as one of his “Best Men”, that is until she finds out who she’ll have to be standing beside. Can she put aside old feelings for her best friend’s big day, or will Harry show her that he’s realized the mistake he’s made? And where does Draco Malfoy fit into all of this?
Please, please, please let me know which ideas are your favorites! <3 :D
Not tagging anyone, but feel free to do this yourself! :D If you do tag me! I want to see what everyone has coming up <3
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1 through 52 for the fallout oc meme for Travis
Gosh anon you don’t know what it is you’re asking lol Ok my dear Anon get yourself a snack or a drink (or both) because you got yourself a LOT of reading to do ;) Thanks for asking, this was a serious challenge and a lot of fun actually!!! I put the answers under the Read More thing just because it’s super long and I don’t want to annoy people with such a long thing on their dash. So here you are....ALL 52 Fallout prompts!!!
1. Which Fallout game are they from?Fallout New Vegas2. Which faction(s) did they join and which did they destroy? Why?Travis went Independent. He originally was going to join up with Mister House, but once the man asked the courier to destroy the Brotherhood of Steel, Travis balked and said no fucking way. You don’t go against your allies like that. They trusted him and called him brother. He wasn’t about to be a backstabbing betrayer. As for what he destroyed it was most certainly Caesar’s Legion. Although the man did have a few good ideas, Travis couldn’t sit by and allow slavery, mistreatment of women, destruction of the remaining Tribals, and many other things. Their ideals were too extreme and too dangerous to allow to be left alone.3. What is their S.P.E.C.I.A.L.?Strength 10Perception 9Endurance 6Charisma 5Intelligence 8Agility 8Luck 64. Give us a summary of their backstory.Travis was born the son of brahmin/bighorner ranchers. He was home schooled and taught the proper cowboy code of the west. In his mid-teen years he joined a brahmin round up in the Big Circle. He realized ranching wasn’t really for him so he went off to join the Mojave Express and become a courier.5. What’s their full name and does it have a meaning? Do they have any nicknames and how did they get em?My courier’s full name is Travis Blackfox. His last name stems on the fact that his father is a Tribal. The name no doubt had to have come from the quiet, stealthy, and cunning traits his father has. As for a nickname, he doesn’t have any he’d normally go by. However, he will answer to Courier Six or simply Six as he was the sixth messenger in a task set up years ago to deliver a special package to the mysterious Mister House on the New Vegas strip.6. What’s their sexual, romantic, and gender orientation? Do they feel comfortable telling other people?Travis is a confirmed bachelor (gay). He is male and loves males. He has no problem with telling anyone because fortunately in the Fallout universe people aren’t homophobes like they are in ours.. His parents knew he was from childhood when he took a strong liking to the male couriers or traders that passed by their ranch almost on a daily basis7. Do they have any mental illnesses? How do they cope?Nope not at all8. Do they have any medical conditions? Is medicine/ treatment available for them?Memory loss from being shot in the head. He can only remember what he did from joining the Mojave Express and onwards. Everything else in his past is gone except for maybe a few scant memories. He also gets occasional headaches, but that's easily remedied. 9. How much do they care about their outer appearance? What’s their “beauty routine”? How often do they shower/ bathe?Travis LOVES his facial hair and will always make sure it’s trimmed to the length he likes. If you ever see him with it longer than normal it's wise to ask him if he's alright as that's a sign something is seriously wrong. As for showering or bathing he does that almost every day he’s able to either at home or in any non-radiated water source he can find.10. What do they fear the most?Being betrayed by someone he loves is something that he’s the most afraid of happening to him. In a relationship Travis puts his entire heart and soul into it. He loves pampering his partner and does all he can to make them happy even if it might cost him his own happiness. To know that person truly didn’t love him and was only using him all along or waiting for someone better is something that occasionally lurks in the back of his mind and terrifies the hell out of him.11. They’re biggest flaw? Do they recognize it as a flaw?Travis’ biggest flaw is that he’s very insecure and he knows this. He gets worried what he does isn’t good enough or even enough. He also feels that his significant other doesn’t really love him as much as he claims, if at all, or will leave him. He feels if he states a complaint on something or disagrees the other person involved will get angry with him12. What are they most insecure about?Being loved or liked. He feels that people are generally only around him because they feel bad for him or don't want to hurt his feelings.13. What Wasteland threat do they fear the most? (ex. Deathclaws, super mutants, raiders)Cazadores. 14. What’s their zodiac sign or which one do you think they relate to the most? What are their placements (if you know them)? (ex. Aries sun, Taurus moon, Aquarius Venus) Gemini15. What’s their Myers–Briggs Type? (ex. ENTP, ISFJ)Travis is an INFJ Introverted, Intuitive, Feeling, Judging.16. What Harry Potter house would they be in? (ex. Gryffindor, Ravenclaw)Hufflepuff17. Which Pokemon Go team would they choose? (ex. Instinct, Valor, Mystic)Valor as he loves all things pertaining to fire as well as the color red.18. Out of the nine forms of intelligence (rhythmic, spatial, linguistic, mathematical, kinesthetic, interpersonal, intrapersonal, naturalistic, and existential) which one(s) are they really good at and which one(s) is(are) their weakest?Travis most certainly is interpersonal as well as intra-personal are his strong points. He can easily read people and knows how to interact with them depending on the situation. His weakest would be existential as he doesn’t care why things are. He simply accepts them as such. Mathematical would also be another weakness. Even though he’s good at balancing budgets, numbers give him a headache.19. What natural alignment are they? (ex. Lawful Good, Chaotic Evil)Travis has been told more often than not he’s too good for his own good. He won’t knowingly harm an innocent nor steal from someone unless it can’t be helped. He doesn’t even particularly care for killing bad guys, but he most certainly will not hesitate when it comes down to it. He does his best to uphold any laws and morals, but sometimes out in the wasteland things like that have to be ignored. Still, he’s not totally “good” per say and will do things considered bad, especially if it means his own survival. If it means saving his ass, or someone he cares about, Travis will lie, cheat, steal, kill, etc…anything to assure he lives to see another day.20. Do they have any hobbies? What are they?Travis loves collecting anything related to Nuka Cola. He also loves to collect as many pre-war books as he can to add to his already massive collection. However, his most favorite thing to do is repairing things and trying to get junk in the Mojave re-purposed. He already made himself a running motorcycle which operates on the fuel cores from Mister Handy robots. Currently he’s building himself a life sized horse based on the smaller toy models of Giddy-up Buttercup. He’s not exactly sure how he’s going to get it to function or work right now, but he’s not giving up and has high hopes for his latest creation.21. Do they have a favorite holiday? How do they celebrate it?Up until recently Travis had no clue what holidays were all about. His partner introduced him to Christmas so of course that's his favorite holiday. They celebrated by getting a small pine tree from the woods, decorated it with paper cutouts and shot gun shell casings topped off with a glowing bottle of Nuka Cola Quartz. This was all followed by a small gift exchange and a nice meal with close friends.22. What’s their favorite season?Being in the desert there really aren't seasons. However, he does love when he's on the east coast and spring arrives.23. Do they have a temper or are they level headed?For the most part Travis is quite level headed and it takes a lot to really piss him off, but once that happens look out.24. Do they express their emotions freely or hide their true feelings?Angry he always tries to hide because it can be a very destructive emotion from him if given the chance. Sad can be considered weak and weakness isn’t anything a person wants to have shown out in the Mojave. Those are the two main ones he’d try and keep hid if possible. Fear he most certainly hides. You never let an enemy know what gets to you and sometimes not even your closest friends. Fear can always be used against you. For the more positive emotions like joy and love, Travis certainly has no problem expressing those.25. Are they a leader or a follower?Even though Travis has led people into battle and is currently co-ruling New Vegas, he hardly feels he's a leader at all. He would much rather take orders and do things for someone else instead of having sole responsibility for something.26. How do they come off to others? What first impression do they usually make?People generally see Travis as friendly and helpful and sometimes a push-over. The latter is something he’s certainly not, but people tend to see him that way because he is so caring and generous. Generally those are the people that try and take advantage of him and his good nature.27. Do they prefer to travel alone or with company? Who have they traveled with if any? Current companion if any?Although he does enjoy solitude more often than not, Travis does enjoy being with his cyberdog Rex and eyebot ED-E. He’s traveled quite a lot with Craig Boone and did enjoy his company to more than just a companion. Currently he has his cyberdog and eyebot and bonded partner from the Boston Commonwealth.28. Would you describe them as selfless or selfish? Does it depend on the situation?Travis is very generous and always tries to make other people happy or comfortable before doing so for himself. Even if he tries to be selfish that feeling doesn’t last for long and he still ends up helping someone anyway.29. What do they find most attractive in others? Name at least one psychological and physical trait. (doesn’t have to be romantic attraction)For psychological trait Travis loves intelligent conversation. Nothing irritates him more than talking to someone who’s so dense it’s a miracle they even know how to tie their own shoes let alone survive in the world. He likes someone that’s at least close enough to his own intelligence, but a little over he doesn’t mind either. Travis loves learning new things. However, the person in question should not so intellectual where it makes everything spoken become a task to listen to and understand. Physical he’d have to go for the cliche feature of a smile. A true and genuine smile is one way to certainly get Travis’ attention. He’ll know if you can be trusted or if you’re a faker depending on how you smile. Like the eyes, one can read a lot through a smile and fortunately for Travis he’s learned to read them pretty good.30. Do they flirt often? How easily do they fall in love?He is a smooth talker and can use this ability to get what he wants even if it means flirting, but that's as far as anything would go. He also doesn't fall in love easily either. He might develop a crush, but for actual love to show it would have to be something groomed and tended to in order for it to blossom. He’s only been in love three times in his entire life and the third is most certainly the last as he loves him more than anything.31. What’s their love life like? Are they interested in anyone or in a relationship?His love life is fantastic as he's with the most amazing man in the world. He's very happy, content, and deeply satisfied in both the mental and physical.32. Do they prefer to solve things diplomatically or using violence?Travis is peaceful by nature so he would much rather try and talk out a situation rather than blasting everything away. Sometimes folks can't listen to reason so of course he'd have to get physical.33. What is their combat style? What range do they prefer? Do they sneak?He's very calculating and thinks about a situation before rushing in with guns blazing. He can and will sneak for the most part as that's part of his being calculating. As for range, that's what his sniper rifle is for. He'll pick off the most dangerous enemies first or at least lure them in closer so he can blast them with explosives or his powerful rifle.34. What weapon(s) do they always carry with them?His rifle named Medicine Stick. He also has his scoped, silenced sniper rifle. One can also always find any sort of explosive with him IE dynamite, mines, or grenades.35. Their most prized possession?His rifle Medicine Stick. It’s very powerful and it’s the one gun he’ll use above all else at all times. He likes the feel it has in his hands and he loves the sound it makes when fired. Most of all, he loves the leather cover hand-stitched on the stock that is adorned with a sewn Tribal Medicine Wheel with beads and feathers.36. Their thoughts on power armor?He honestly has no use for it. He was trained to operate it, but doesn't like it in the least bit. He feels it's too big and bulky to do much good. Granted you might be protected more, but you really aren't as you have no agility or way to get out of a bad situation quickly.37. Favorite armor/ outfit?Armor wise Travis loves his elite riot gear as it's quite sturdy and offers great protection as well as making him look good. His regular outfit is a red plaid shirt, blue jeans, black cowboy boots, and a black cowboy hat.38. How’s their aim? Do their hands shake while pointing a gun?When Travis rejoined the world of the living after being shot in the head, his aim and gun skills literally were pathetic. Thankfully as his time in the Mojave went on, Travis’ aim became more true. It wasn’t until he spent a lot of time with an NCR 1st Recon man named Craig Boone that his shooting skills became honed and seriously deadly. He now nails headshots more often than not and sometimes at a full run. His aim is true and he generally uses one bullet to kill someone these days. As for hands shaking, only when he’s truly upset about a situation IE friend being harmed or going to be harmed in close proximity. When that happens he’ll generally use the gun as a striking weapon instead and bash the enemy upside the head with the stock and continue to beat on them until they’re no more.39. What are their thoughts on having to kill on a daily bases in order to survive? Does it take a toll on them? Or do they shake it off rather easily?Fortunately not too many people or critters harassed Travis to the point where he had to kill them on a daily basis. Powder Gangers flee in terror when they see him and for the most part Fiends are all but non-existent these days. Legion was the only folks he had to constantly be on the look out for and even then it wasn’t daily. In their case it was always self-defense on Travis’ part, it wasn’t like he was seeking them out to kill them. Travis is very passive for the most part. He doesn’t enjoy having to kill anything, self-defense or not, but it also doesn’t bother him. He’s not jaded, just a realist and knows it’s a cold hard fact of life in the Mojave.40. Thoughts on death if any? (ex. Fear it, accept it)Since Travis has already been considered dead once already, he doesn’t think much of death anymore. He’s not afraid to die now and almost feels invincible as a result of what happened to him. He was lucky the first time in cheating death and he knows he might not be so lucky again, but he does accept it as a harsh reality. These days, however, he’s more afraid of death happening to the one he loves as opposed to himself. In that aspect he truly does fear death. 41. Do they move around a lot or prefer to have a place to call home?His home will always be out in the Mojave. He does travel back and forth every six months to the Boston Commonwealth. 42. What’s their favorite location?Anywhere that his partner may be....but mostly in the desert of the Mojave. 43. Their opinions on ghouls, feral and not feral?Travis has sympathy for all ghouls in all honesty. He does what he can to help those with their wits still about them. He also has no problem in putting a bullet in the head of those ferals as it comes down to being a “kill or be killed” in most situations upon meeting them. However, some time ago, he had a horrible nightmare which involved a ghoul and currently he has a very different attitude towards them. He’ll help if need be, but mostly now he’d much rather avoid them. He doesn’t want to resurrect the images from his nightmare because he knows it’ll set him off on some kind of angry rage and he’ll end up slaughtering the hapless beings.44. Do they scavenge for their supplies or simply buy them?Travis likes to nose around looking for things overlooked or left behind. However, he knows that people do need to make a living out in the wasteland so he tries to buy from local merchants as much as possible to give them support.45. Are they the type to get distracted and go off to an unknown nearby location or do they stay on track?For the most part Travis tries his best to stay on track with what he’s supposed to be doing. However, he’s quite curious and a little bit nosy and can and will drift off to check out something or explore a cave he discovers. Sometimes these distractions prove to be pointless, but a lot of times he ends up unwittingly helping someone as a result or even finding things to help himself like piles of forgotten caps, ammunition, or even on occasion weapons and armor that he can sell to traders for what he really needs.46. How do they sleep? Are they picky about where and how or can they sleep basically anywhere?Travis can sleep anywhere at any time. His only nit-pick would be sheets. They have to be clean and he does keep a set with him in his pack just in case clean sheets somewhere is not an option.47. What’s their favorite radio station and song? (post-apocalypse)Travis loves the Mojave Music Radio station. He used to like Radio New Vegas, but once his deeds started to get well known and he became the headline in the news given by Mister New Vegas more often than not, well, Travis couldn’t stand it so he stopped listening. The Mojave station provides some great tunes including a lot of great western/country songs. His favorite being “Big Iron” performed by the pre-war star Marty Robbins. 48. What’s their favorite post-apocalyptic food? Are they a picky eater? Do they know how to cook?Travis loves brahmin steak and gecko stew. He's not picky at all as one can't afford that trait being out in the desert. He does know how to cook and really well. He makes a great stew and a great omelette.49. What’s their favorite beverage? Do they drink alcohol?He does love Nuka Cola and has a small liking for Sunset Sarsaparilla. He does drink alcohol and prefers beer above all else. He will drink whiskey, but sparingly as the first time he really celebrated he got really sick and doesn't want to feel that again...but that won't stop him from getting drunk from time to time.50. Do they have any tag skills?Guns, melee, and sneak51. Anything they like to collect? (ex. Unique weapons, Bobbleheads)He loves pre-war toys and especially anything pertaining to Nuka Cola.52. Are they good at disarming traps or do they constantly miss them?For the most part he does very well at disarming any traps, but that's if he discovers them first. Lots of times he plows into a location only to set off grenade traps or even get hit with metal beams put in doorways. He also got his leg snapped in a bear trap a few times, but fortunately those few times the items were seriously rusted so they didn't cause him too much damage.
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Written In The Stars IV (Harry Potter xFem!Oc)
A/N: Next to writing in another language, writing Hagrid’s dialogues is a nightmare. So, I just did it as little as possible though I love him so much.
Words: 2,449
Warnings: None!
Previous chapter // Next chapter
Chapter Four: Rubeus Hagrid.
The next days were horrid, it had been years since she had felt so powerless, locked in her house with no one to play, even worse, knowing Harry had been kidnapped by the Dursleys. Her mum was anxious too, but she was better at hiding it. From time to time she would go over to the window and look around, Mel knew she was looking for an owl.
Then, on the evening of the second day, a loud bang on the door made them jump from their seats. Emily stood up and opened the door, gasping at the sight in front of her.
"Hagrid, what are you doing here?" A man, taller than anyone she'd ever known, was standing in the doorway, hair rustled and beard long and messy.
"Dumbledore," He said in a deep, rusty voice, "sent me"
"Why?" The woman asked, "Harry's not here!"
"He thought that Mel might wan' to come!" He exclaimed cheerfully.
His eyes looked around the room and landed on the little girl, hiding behind the sofa.
"Well look at yeh, Mel!" He laughed, "Look at yeh! Yeh've grown!"
"Do I know you?" She asked.
"He saw you when you were a baby," Her mother moved away from the door so he could come in, looking more tired than before, "he's an old friend"
"Oh," She said, standing up from the sofa, "nice to meet you, uh..."
"Rubeus Hagrid," The man walked up to her with heavy steps that made the whole house tremble, "keeper of keys in Hogwarts, bet yeh know about tha' now"
"I know about Hogwarts," Mel nodded, pleased to recognize the name.
"Hagrid," Emily closed the door, "I'm sorry, but did you just say that you're here to take Mel?"
"If yeh allow," Hagrid smiled, putting his hands inside his coat, "if not, I still wanted to deliver this to dear ol' Mel. Yeh turned eleven this month, don' think I forgot!"
He handed her a box filled with strange candies that she couldn't wait to eat.
"Can I go?" She asked her mother, "I promised Harry I would help!"
"I... I don't know," Emily looked over to Hagrid, "you know where Harry is?"
"Yes," He nodded, "we'll be there in no time"
"You have to be careful," She replied, "please Hagrid, the kids..."
"Dumbledore trust me," He made a careless movement with his hand that almost knocked off the lamp, "yeh'll have yer daughter back safe an' soun"
"I'll be good, I promise," Mel jumped, holding tightly to her mother's wrist, "Please?"
"I'll have to talk with Dumbledore one of these days," She huffed, "He keeps forgetting who is your tutor"
"That means I can go?" Mel held her breath.
"Bloody-" Emily groaned in frustration, passing a hand through her hair, "put on your coat and listen to everything Hagrid tells you. If you disobey you won't be going to any fun trips again."
Mel let out a short squeal and hugged her mother.
It was hard to tell exactly what thing impressed her most: Hagrid or his motorcycle. The trip was wonderful, he answered to every question the little girl had on her mind since Dumbledore's visit.
She learned many things that day, not only about the school but about how the wizards and witches behaved, she wanted to know how to act around others, she wanted to be prepared.
"My mum said she kept me away because of the rumors about my father's family," She frowned, "you know those rumors?"
Hagrid groaned.
"What yeh hav' to know Mel, is tha' Dumbledore is one of the most powerful an' bright of al' the wizardin' community. Many folks feel threaten' by it. Yeh should never feel bad abou' the family yeh come from. Not even once."
Mel nodded, although Hagrid hadn't answered her question.
"Yer a lot like Matt," He said after a few minutes had passed, "he always asked questions 'bout everything. Smart ones. He was bright, that one. Yeh have the same look as him and Dumbledore, but those are Em's eyes. Tho' yeh have his smile too"
Mel didn't know how to respond to that. She hadn't seen any pictures of her father, but she felt happy to find out that she was similar to him. A sting of annoyance went through her heart as thinking of all the years she spent away from where she truly belonged.
They got closer to what it seemed a place taken directly from a horror movie.
"Is Harry there?" She asked in disbelief.
"His relatives sure are odd, aren' they?"
"They treat Harry very poorly," Mel shook her head in discontent.
"Do they?" Hagrid frowned, "Would yeh mind telling me more?"
Mel told him everything she knew about the Dursley, watching as the anger grew inside Hagrid.
"We'll fix this al'right," was all he said.
When they landed outside the little cottage, Mel prepared herself for what was about to happen.
"Is midnight," Hagrid said, "Harry just turned eleven"
And without adding to it, he knocked loudly on the door.
'BOOM!'
He knocked again, getting no answer.
He stepped back and said:
"Careful," And knocked down the door.
Mel jumped at the sound of the wood hitting the ground. Hagrid walked in and she followed, holding to his sleeve tightly, drenched from the storm. He lifted the door back in its frame. Mel remained behind his arm, cold, she moved along as he turned to face the Dursleys.
"Couldn't make us a cup o' tea, could yeh? It's not been an easy journey..."
He moved heavily towards the couch, she moved slightly away from his body, looking around. Harry was right in front of them.
As Hagrid forced Dudley to get up by sitting on the sofa, she ran to her friend.
"Harry!" She gave him a tight hug, "I told you I would find you!"
She heard a loud gasp on her right, when she looked up she saw Mrs. Dursley staring at her with wide eyes.
Well, she won't be able to hide her oddness anymore.
"An' here's Harry!" Hagrid exclaimed, "Las' time I saw you, you was only a baby. Yeh look a lot like yer dad, but yeh've got your mother's eyes."
Hagrid then had a little discussion with Mr. Dursley that ended up in Hagrid destroying the rifle and calling him names. Petunia Dursley was horrified, she kept mumbling, 'not her, not her...' as if Mel being a witch was the same as having a terminal disease.
"How..?" Harry whispered in stunned wonder.
Mel moved away, so happy that she couldn't stay still.
"He went for me so we could find you."
"Harry," Hagrid had his attention back to them, "A very happy birthday to yeh. Got summat fer yeh here- I mighta sat on it at some point, but it'll taste all right."
Hagrid dug into his coat and pulled a box, this one a bit more damaged than Mel's. Harry took it and opened with trembling hands, inside there was a cake with 'Happy Birthday' written with green icing.
Harry looked up to Hagrid and asked.
"Who are you?"
"True, I haven't introduced meself. Rubeus Hagrid, Keeper of Keys and Grounds at Hogwarts."
Mel was ecstatic, this was really happening! Soon enough Harry would know everything. Hagrid and Harry shook hands (more like Hagrid almost ripped Harry's arm) and then added:
"What about that tea then, eh? I'd not say no ter summat stronger if yeh've got it, mind"
Mel stifled her laugh with a hand, watching as Hagrid quietly prepared the tea. She crossed her legs and waited patiently, amused at how easily Hagrid could scare the Dursleys. Hagrid passed her and Harry warm sausages and she took one of them, biting into the food with a hunger she didn't even know she had.
"I'm sorry," Said Harry after a moment, "but I still don't really know who you are."
"Call me Hagrid, everyone does. An' like I told yeh, I'm Keeper of Keys at Hogwarts- yeh'll know all about Hogwarts, o' course"
Mel frowned, hadn't Dumbledore told him all the issue with the Dursleys? If not, then Hagrid was in for a treat.
"Er- no" Harry admitted, "sorry"
"Sorry?" Hagrid turned to look at the Dursleys, "it's them as should be sorry! I knew yeh weren't gettin' yer letters but I never thought yeh wouldn't even know abou' Hogwarts, fer cryin' out loud! Did yeh never wonder where yer parents learnt it all?"
"All what?" asked her friend innocently.
"ALL WHAT?" Hagrid stood up suddenly, causing Mel to drop the last bit of her food.
Hagrid was angry, and though he looked pretty scary, Mel had to cover her mouth again to hide her giggles. It wasn't a funny subject, but she couldn't help herself.
"DURSLEY!" Hagrid seemed to think it over, going back to Harry, "but yeh must know about yer mum and dad. I mean, they're famous, you're famous."
"What?" He then looked at Mel, "My- my mum and dad weren't famous, were they?"
That did take her by surprise, Mel hadn't heard about that specific thing at all.
"I don't know," She replied, "my mum never mentioned..."
"Yeh don't know," Hagrid seemed deeply affected by the news, "yeh don't know... yeh don't know what yeh are?"
"Stop!" Exclaimed Mr. Dursley suddenly.
There were a few screams here and there until Hagrid lost his patience.
"Ah, go boil yer heads, both of yeh," He turned to face the kids, "Harry, yer a wizard."
Mel stopped moving.
Finally.
"I'm a what?" asked Harry.
Things happened fast. Hagrid handed him the letter and he quietly read it, Harry asked about the owl and Hagrid pulled a real, angry-looking owl -Had it been there the whole time?- from one of his pockets, and wrote a little note like her mother had done a few days prior.
Then he went back to the sofa and Mr. Dursley said he wouldn't let Harry go, and well, Hagrid called him something neither Mel or Harry understood.
"A what?" They asked in unison.
"A muggle" Repeated Hagrid.
Muggle. Mel didn't think it was proper to go around calling every non-magical person like that, but she would be more than happy to address the Dursleys as big ol' muggles from now on.
Then things stopped being funny all of a sudden. Mrs Dursley had an outburst and completely confessed every little nagging detail about Lily's (Harry's mum) past. Blown up, she said, was the way she had died.
Mel knew a total of three things about her father so far:
·They had the same smile.
·He was a curious man, always asking smart questions.
·He died thanks to Voldemort.
So when Harry asked what had really happened with his parents, she understood his shook, all his life living in a lie was infuriating. They knew so little about their families it felt like a cruel joke.
Mel didn't feel like laughing anymore.
"But what happened to Vol- sorry, to You-Know-Who?"
"Good question, Harry. Disappeared. Vanished. Same night he tried ter kill you. Makes yeh even more famous. That's the biggest myst'ry, see... he was gettin' more an' more powerful- Why'd he go? Some say he died. Codswallop, in my opinion. Dunno if he had enough human left in him to die. Some say he's still out there, bidin' his time, like, but I don' believe it. People who was on his side came back ter ours. Some of 'em came outta kinda trances. Don' reckon they could've done if he was comin' back."
"-Most of us reckon he's still out there somewhere but lost his powers. Too weak to carry on. 'Cause somethin' about you finished him, Harry. There was somethin' goin' on that night he hadn't counted on – I dunno what it was, no one does – but somethin' about you stumped him, all right"
"I think you must have made a mistake. I don't think I can be a wizard."
Hagrid chuckled.
'Not a wizard, eh? Never made things happen when you was scared, or angry?'
Harry shared a look with Mel, who smiled shyly.
"You..?" He didn't finish the question, but he didn't have to.
"I kept it a secret a few days because they asked me to," She assured him, "I didn't know until Dumbledore- he's my uncle, you know- he came into my house and explained it to me. My mum was pissed about it, and they made me promise I wouldn't tell"
"Why?"
"I don't know," She frowned, "I wanted to tell you. I didn't like lying to my best friend."
"You're also a... a witch?"
Mel nodded.
"I would show you my letter, but I left it at home."
Harry looked back at Hagrid, now smiling widely. Hagrid returned the expression.
"See?' said Hagrid, "Harry Potter, not a wizard – you wait, you'll be right famous at Hogwarts. Both of you."
But Mr. Dursley wasn't having any of it. He started another argument with Hagrid, this time insulting Dumbledore. Hagrid lost control, affected by the words, he grabbed a hold of his umbrella and with a swift movement, gave Dudley a tail. A pig's tail, to be precise.
"Merlin's beard!" Mel exclaimed, deciding that it was about time she started to grow accustomed to the usual lingo of wizards and witches.
Hagrid apologized for losing his temper, he wasn't allowed to do magic since he got expelled in his third year at Hogwarts, he didn't explain why. He handed his coat to Mel and Harry so they could sleep in it, warning them about the dormice.
The children didn't mind one bit, they were glad Hagrid had come to the rescue.
Next Chapter —>
#twoidiots writing#Harry Potter#harry potter fanfiction#hp fanfic#harry potter xoc#harry potter x reader#rubeus hagrid#WITT fic#harry potter x y/n
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