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murderoushagthesequel · 1 year

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returning the favour!!

hmmm

delete any three marauders era characters from existence JUST so you get to create them in ur own image go

least favourite colour and is it because it reminds you of a very you specific children memory?

describe these five characters as teachers: james potter. bellatrix black. frank longbottom. gideon prewett. lucius malfoy.

your favourite colours

r u chef xeno au or model xeno au person (yes i’m either writing or drawing the chef au) and you HAVE to chose

opinions on american girl dolls

ok sorry this took me forever to answer i got a little too into it, so here we go

delete any three characters

oooo this is a spicy one. i’m assuming this means delete them from canon and replace them with my own image? because i already do whatever i want here.

first is absolutely regulus because he would fuck the entire story up. and i love that for him. my reggie, who would find a way to band together with all of his friends and fight their own side of the war away from moldy and dumbly, who would burn the world down for each and every one of them and his brother and james, who got along with the gryffindors and hexed anybody who dared challenge him about it. regulus who’s trans and gay and depressed and dealing with it like a champ. who can get the entirety of hogwarts under his thumb with one outfit because he’s just that beautiful and that powerful. regulus who whittles baby animals for james in secret, who is a god at quidditch and always catches the snitch because he’s just that good, who joined frog choir initially because his mother made him but turned it into something for himself and never left even once he ran away. regulus who is just me in a different font because i said so. i may have gotten a little carried away with the headcanons here. but regulus is my best friend, the love of my life, my baby, my child, i love him okay?

second. hmmmm. i think i’m gonna have to go with barty. now there isn’t really any canon on him before he became a death eater anyway, so it wouldn’t so much be removing him and replacing him as much as adding in nonexistent content. i would mainly just be adding in the widely accepted fanon content: slytherin skittles, rosekiller, barty being a little menace who would kill for his friends no hesitation, etc. i’d make his gay awakening xeno idc. and then from there there’s two directions to go. there’s: let him live out his happy little life with his friends that’s not so happy because they’re fighting in a way but at least they’re together. and there’s: reg and evan die and barty goes crazy and turns into canon barty. i like both versions, even both at the same time tbh, but in the first one i think pandora and dorcas would help keep him together whereas in the second one he just goes off the rails. there’s just so much more to be explored with his character and all we really get is he hates his dad but not his mom, and he killed and tortured a bunch of people this literally makes no sense at all but moving on anyways.

third. let’s see, let’s see, let’s see. peter! omg peter. we all know i love peter pettigrew and canon peter is… well… the fucking worst. give me peter pettigrew that made a bit of a mistake, sure, but it didn’t cost his friends their lives and they forgave him. give me (this will be an icotfs moment) deaf peter pettigrew who taught his friends sign language in their first year and was so happy just to have friends because he had it rough in the past but now he has a family at school. give me peter pettigrew who was a hat stall because he’s wise and loyal and cunning and brave. give me peter pettigrew who worked so so hard for his marks in school and excelled because he worked for it. give me peter pettigrew who makes fun of his friends as relentlessly as they make fun of him and his just, happy! give me peter pettigrew who was genuinely friends with everybody, not a kid they had to look after, not an outcast, not anything else. a friend.

honorable mentions: snape, no redemption arc, no pity; lily, just, her in my mind; pandora, make her a character

now, if you meant pick any three characters to erase from fanon and replace, my answer is different and i don’t know what it is.

least favorite color / tied to childhood memory

hmmmm. probably either like a neon green or brown-orange. when i was a kid, for a period of time, my favorite color was orange but i always had to specify not brown orange colors. specifically bright oranges. also like… idk how to describe it but off white in the way medicine is. i had to take this liquid medicine for a long period of time when i was little and it was this weird white color and absolutely nasty. especially the orange flavor. completely vile. i can still taste it right now and that was like 13 years ago.

characters as teachers

oh this is a fun one. here we go.

james potter: he is struggling just a bit. he’s for sure a humanities teacher, and he hasn’t quite found the balance between being a good teacher and a nice teacher. he’s like right on the edge there, where he’s almost perfect, but he does get fooled by a dead grandma from time to time, or a student taking advantage of his niceness. but he is, so nice. and really helpful. he does absolutely everything he can to help his students, even if that means staying at work until 10pm trying to come up with a way to help this kid pass his class, he’ll do it. even if he has to tutor a kid on the entire history of the world. this man is committed to his work. he said “i wanna be a teacher” and he really meant it. sirius, remus, peter, regulus, and lily have all had to forcibly pull him away from his work on more than one occasion. regulus once just stayed the night in james’ classroom because he refused to leave.

bellatrix black: this one. this is a wild one. because that’s what bella is, isn’t she? a wild card. controversial opinion? i initially saw her as an art teacher and then it switched in my brain and now i can’t let go of her being an economics/government/finance teacher. i mean, picture her just sitting at the front of her classroom, sitting cross-legged on top of her desk and teaching kids how to topple a government instead of reading from the textbook? nobody knows how she hasn’t gotten fired yet because she basically taught one class how to money launder and another how to stage a coup. all her students both love her and are terrified of her. she’s the kind of person that can catch a bug in her hands without even looking- she makes sure to do that trick on the first day of every class, she will not fuck around, got it? but she has her favorite students who she’s so sweet to. like if they cough once during class they are going to the nurse’s office and she will march them right down there if she has to.

frank longbottom: now he is the perfect balance. the teacher i’ve always been in awe of. the one who manages to perfectly balance everything and act like it’s nothing. i could honestly see him teaching any subject and you know what? maybe he teaches all of them, who can say? he is nice, but not a pushover. a good teacher, but a kind one. he balances his personal life and work perfectly and doesn’t let them bleed too much into each other. every once in a while, he’ll get a little too caught up on one thing or the other - he’s only human, right? - but he’s usually able to get back into it pretty easily, especially with the help from his friends. his students all like him, they say goodbye sadly but don’t miss him too terribly when he’s gone, but he’s touched all of their lives somehow. he’s that one teacher whose class every student wants to be in, and everybody else is jealous when they don’t end up there.

gideon prewett: he’s a kindergarten teacher. he has one of those little town rugs in the middle of his floor, he reads all the books at story time with different voices and acts it out. he hosts little events as much as possible for the kids to participate in. plays, puppet shows, bake sales, etc. he also goes all out with birthdays, like decorates the whole classroom and everything. and he’s an amazing teacher. like those kids are leaving his classroom at the end of the year with a second grade education. some of them go to college early. he gets invited to their weddings. he randomly brings in things to make his students happy like cookies (different kinds for allergies and dietary restrictions) or plants. he always brings something in himself for show and tell. he’s the teacher everybody loved when they were in kindergarten and never got another teacher who could live up to him. except for the students that ended up with his brother as an AP calc teacher. he’s completely different but exactly the same simultaneously, but the only one who ever came close to matching him.

lucius malfoy: oof. you do not want to be in his class. this man is like an APUSH or AP physics teacher. he is strict and not forgiving. he picks his favorites on the first day of class and everybody else knows the year is about to be shit for them. he keeps a whole ass family portrait on the wall behind his desk, and he looks hella intimidating in it. he gives hours of homework each night, half of it busy work because he can’t be bothered to grade it all, and insanely difficult tests. the only reason he’s still allowed to teach is because he sucks up to the head of the school board and he’s about to be on tenure, then no one can touch him. there’s also a ton of rumors flying around about him at all times though, because the kids hate him so much. and some of them come back to bite him in the ass, so, good for you, kids.

favorite colors

ooooo how to choose. okay first definitely has to be a neutral pastel/sage green, like the one in my tumblr theme. it’s so calming and soothing and it reminds me of being in a little fairytale forest. like, i look at it and i see low hanging branches with floating lights and a calm stream running by a woodland cottage. it’s lovely.

then probably something like the blue you posted. it reminds me of the word midnight. it’s mysterious, it’s never-ending, it’s kind of scary, but in a good way. i accidentally typed “in a god way” the first time and tbh, yeah.

and then like a lavender color like this one. i can’t really explain why it just makes my brain happy.

similarly to the purple, dust rose.

chef xeno vs model xeno

nooooo i have to choose? i love model xeno, i really do. i love absolutely everything about him. but my heart goes to chef au :pensive:. especially with the brilliant alteration that it’s secretly a ratatouille au where barty and evan think xeno is this brilliant chef but they have no idea there’s just a tiny peter on his head doing all the cooking for him. i also think it’s funny picturing xeno being all cocky thinking two guys are trying to compete for him when really, they’re both trying to get with him at the same time. he would be so oblivious but so happy at the revelation and i love him for that.

american girl dolls

ok somebody fr just asked me this? but when i was a kid i wanted one so badly, not even sure why. i think it was a “everyone else has one so i need one” type thing? i also just liked dolls. i got two oof-brand american girl dolls over time, one has a brown bob with bangs and i named her emily and the other has long blonde hair and ngl i forgot her name… but i have like a whole ass closet for these girlies. i loved them with my whole heart for a while. opinions overall? i definitely don’t get the hype anymore. and the american girl puberty books and shit are weird… but dolls in general >>> (except the creepy ones).

#long post #so so long #i had so much fun writing all of this #hag's asks #beo's corner!#you get your own tag now too <3 #also for all you non-americans apush is ap us history #and ap is advanced placement #marauders #marauders era #dead gay wizards #slytherin skittles

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missnight0wl · 2 years

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Just for fun. How about a character tier of R and former R members?

Duncan Olivia Real!Jacob The fugly slut that's pretending to be our brother Shiratori Rakepick Burke Pettigrew Verruca Merula Peregrine

(do tell me if I forgot about someone)

This is mine. HBU?

I absolutely love that the top tier is just “Rakepick” 💖

Also, I couldn’t resist the urge to separate it into two lists as I didn’t know how to approach the “Pawn” tier. See, the thing is that I don’t think it’s necessarily connected to being powerful… Therefore, I decided on “How powerful they are?” and “How important they are for R?”.

Oh, and I added Zenith Xeep. I believe she was involved with R only for that one thing with the Memory Potion (and probably didn’t even know much about what’s going on), but still.

“How powerful they are?”

“How important they are for R?”

Some commentary under the cut.

I actually believe that Verucca is pretty damn powerful, and I do think that she's pretty much equal with Rakepick and Peregrine. I even wouldn't be surprised if Peregrine is above her not because he's more powerful, but because he is The Father of the siblings.

Reall!Jacob has to be pretty powerful as well, and I'm thinking here mostly about the scene where Rakepick told MC in the fourth year: "You remind me of myself. I have only said that to one person before...". That one person was probably Jacob (full analysis in this post). And come on, if Rakepick compares anyone to herself, they must be quite impressive.

I also put Shiratori higher in the ranking. Jam City did him pretty dirty later on, and currently, I don't think he's that powerful (even if he's apparently a powerful Legilimens). But I remembered when he escaped in Y6. Moody told us then that he defeated his best Aurors, so... I have to acknowledge that he was meant to be way more powerful.

I can agree on Olivia but I think that Duncan was pretty good, too. For example, Bilton told us that he used to reconstruct his products entirely. I mean, you need some decent level of magical prowess for that.

Surprisingly, I do believe that Fugly Slut is decently powerful, simply because I doubt that R would send someone weak for such an important mission. On top of that, I still think there's a small chance that he's actually Verucca, so...

As for Merula... I might not like her, and I do think that she's terribly written, but... she's not weak. It's mostly her personality that stops her from being really powerful.

Pettigrew is a disgusting human being, but again, he is pretty powerful. He did become an Animagus, he killed 12 Muggles with one non-verbal, he outsmarted the whole wizarding world, and he played a rather big part in bringing back Voldemort himself.

Burke... I mean, he can't be totally weak if he worked as a Healer for so many years, right? Also, he kind of kicked Moody's ass... But I don't know. I'd say he's alright overall, maybe just not very experienced in combat.

Finally, I'm afraid that she was rather weak even before her accident. I mean, she was an opera diva for her whole life. In the best-case scenario, she was extremely out of practice.

Now, I put Rakepick in the "Crucial for their existence" tier simply because of how obsessed R is with her. Like, it's still not known when they started sending her threats to stay away from the Cursed Vaults, the Red Cloak talked about her again. Seriously, it's not healthy.

*insert the image of Patty as Regina George with the caption: "Why are you so obsessed with me?"*

Real!Jacob and his importance are rather obvious.

Verucca mentioned once that they had high hopes for Shiratori because of his lineage, so I assume he had to be pretty important, even if he became redundant. Plus, we have his Legilimency. Silimar argument actually applies to Fugly Slut. I assume that he was chosen for this task for some reason. His skills, perhaps? I mean, I still think it'd make the most sense if he was a Metamorphmagus as the Polyjuice Potion can be pretty risky.

In the "Pawn" tier, I put basically anyone who might be useful somehow, but if something happens to them, it's not a big loss. They're not necessarily entirely equal, but... yeah.

Finally, we have Pettigrew because I still refuse to accept his existence in this story. I'd like to know what kind of drugs you have to take to decide it's a good idea.

#long post #hogwarts mystery #hphm #hphm jacob #hphm peregrine #hphm r #duncan ashe #olivia green #patricia rakepick #merula snyde #verucca buckthorn #kazuhiro shiratori #eustace burke #zenith xeep #peter pettigrew #marta ranks #ask #thedoodlecat

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saintchaser · 2 years

Text

"you're late."

regulus scoffed. "well, pardon me if i have more important things to do than meeting you, marlene mckinnon."

marlene whipped her head around to face regulus as he sat down next to her, and made a discreet sign to the busy waitress.

"listen, i don't have time for you being a dick. or for dicks in general. i don't even like dicks," she accentuated the penultimate word, making regulus let out a laugh that he probably wouldn't have wanted to be heard.

he nodded, an air of superiority that both overwhelmed and annoyed marlene to no end.

"i don't even know how dorcas could stand you," she said jokingly, shoving him slightly.

he looked on his shoulder where she had touched him, then flicked his hand over it, almost as if he brushed away dirt.

merlin, marlene hated posh boys.

"the feeling's mutual. i cannot comprehend how such an intelligent person would like someone as ignorant as you are."

she just rolled her eyes. "making fun of me was not the reason i called you here."

"then?" regulus cocked a single, elegant brow. "what is it you need of me?"

"i need information."

"what kind?" his brows furrowed, his mind racing.

"peter pettigrew," she said sharply.

his eyes widened in something that he couldn't quite place. he looked back at her, determination on his face.

"the last scum of this planet." he snapped furiously. "the filthiest human, if i can even call him that, to ever exist."

"that, i know of," marlene's eyes glinted in the warm light that the fireplace and the dim lights of the pub emitted. "i need to know about his alliances. is he... one of yours?"

regulus looked down to the floor, almost as if he didn't want to disclose the information that the woman asked him for. "yes." he said sharply, but his words were barely above a whisper.

she triumphed, once again. "since when?"

he thought for a few seconds. "last year, maybe?" he tried, his memory slightly fuzzy at that late hour of the night. "i think around november last year. 1979."

marlene nodded. "did he take the mark?"

"all the death eaters take the mark," he whispered, irritation in his voice.

"narcissa didn't," marlene reminded him.

"narcissa isn't a death eater, she just helps us... them, sometimes," he said, "but yes, he took the mark."

"how do you know?" she asked again. not that she wanted to be annoying, but she needed all the details, all the possible evidence.

"i was there. the memory is put in a flask, for the pensieve," his tone softened slightly, "and that, i could lend you."

marlene took his hand and squeezed it slightly, a thank you and a reassurance that everything he had confessed to her would only be used for what she had promised. "thank you," she beamed proudly, "so much. that's all i needed. thank you, reggie black."

he scoffed at the nickname, but he grinned. "alright, alright. off you go! it's getting late!"

she jumped off the stool and, with one last wink to regulus, she put on her traveller's cloak and left him behind, just as the beautiful waitress made his way to him.

step one is done, she thought and smiled to herself, as he disapparated in the pitch dark of the night.

#another one bites the dust #i was thinking about 2 or 3 more chapters and THEN maybe i'm actually outting it on ao3 #anyways as you might see regulus and marlene don't really have a lot in common. they don't really get along...#but bonding over their mutual displeasure in regards to peter pettigrew... they can sort themselves over that #omg anyways #peter pettigrew #regulus black #dorcas meadowes #marlene mckinnon #my writing

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slytherinsnekxvii · 3 years

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this isn't my best work, but it's still pretty good for something i wrote when i was 15 after having a half a year of writer's block. anyways, ahem, presenting the fic in which severus says fuck it after the lake incident and just doesn't go back to hogwarts but potentially gets dragged into the war anyway despite living in the muggle world for like,, three years, part 1 (aka the only chapter i wrote bc my writer's block came back oops):

It starts simply, like most things do. It starts with a few words, tossed out without care and full of childish conviction. It escalates to brawls in the corridors and duels in the dungeons--if you could even call them that when it was four-on-one and most encounters left him reeling. It continues until he's twitchy and hypervigilant and awkward, always on the lookout for an attack, ready to bite before anyone could bite him.

It ends much the same. The events leading up to this are a production fit for the theatre, if the crowd is anything to by, but the ending itself is quite simple. Gasping for air near the shore of the Black Lake and battling a headache that hurts almost as much as the sharp press of his heart at the thought of what he'd done to Lily, he simply gives up. He picks himself up, tells himself this is the end of it and goes about collecting his belongings.

His wand comes to his hand easily enough with a mumbled Accio. His bag does, as well. Its contents, on the other hand, have to be collected by hand. His textbooks and ink are strewn beneath the tree, mostly, but the loose parchment and his quill are lost to the wind. He snatches up what he can find before someone gets it into their head to come further humiliate him and turns to head back into into the castle. Only to be smacked in the face by a bound sheaf of parchment and a quill. It's suspicious, and he's tempted to burn it then and there. It's his, but they were definitely scattered about the grounds two seconds ago. He doesn't burn it. He hesitates, puts it in his bag and returns to the castle, intent on making his way to Gryffindor Tower.

The apology doesn't go well. Lily isn't interested, refuses to hear it. He returns to the Slytherin dorms, drops into his bed and thanks Merlin that they'll be going home soon. Cokeworth is God-awful, but at least there's only one man trying to kill him there and only one woman for him to disappoint.

So, he waits it out. Spends his final classes looking over his shoulder and staring blankly at his parchment every time he remembers that they tried to kill him and they humiliated him and they got away with both. He shrinks into himself, avoiding the corridors at all costs, skipping meals to avoid being in the Great Hall and spends as much time as possible in the Library and the dusty old Potions Lab on the Fourth Floor that no one knows about, losing himself in research so he doesn't have to interact with his Housemates. He sits alone at the Leaving Feast, refuses to touch his plate until Evan Rosier falls into the seat next to him and bothers him into eating. The Headmaster dismisses them, says that they'll see each other come September and lets them filter out onto the train.

He ends up sharing a compartment with Mulciber, Avery and Rosier even though he's barely spoken to any of them since the incident. Evan needles him about everything and nothing the whole way to King's Cross, and when they get there, Evan claps him on shoulder and that's goodbye.

He gathers up his things, goes to meet his mother so they can Apparate home and not waste what little money they have on transport. Eileen's cheeks are sunken, her arms rail thin, her dress loose-fitting. He'd still rather see her than anyone even loosely affiliated with Hogwarts. She nods at him, he nods back. They go home.

He spends his summer making himself useful. He does odd jobs for the neighbours, is grudgingly polite to his father, takes care of his mother. By the time term rolls around, people are talking about that Snape boy. Strange, and quiet, too, but he works well, doesn't he? September first dawns bright and early, and Severus doesn't go back to Hogwarts.

He studies at home instead, nose buried in his mum's old books. He plants the few ingredients he has hidden away in his trunk at the back of the house and uses what grows to brew medicines and weedkillers and anything he can think of after experimenting a bit. Mr. and Mrs. Smith down the street both swear up and down he's working magic on their little garden and their old bones.

He feeds cats, delivers packages for the grocer, takes tables and nightstands home to cast Reparo on. Someone tells the pub owner about him, and the next thing he knows, he's frying chips and learning how to mix drinks even though the most complicated thing anyone ever orders is a pint of the beer that they have on tap.

It's not a bad existence. Eventually, slowly, his mother starts coming back to herself. She takes over the brewing when he isn't around. Annotates his annotations and even makes a trip to Diagon Alley for more ingredients to add to their garden when Severus forgets to write Narcissa to ask her to send a few more.

Severus is old enough now to drag his father home from the pub behind him when he's done working. One evening, they come home and Tobias nearly trips over the end table that Severus is meant to be fixing for Mr. Williams three houses up. Severus works his wand out of his boot and goes to cast a spell, but Tobias grumbles and bats his hand away. Drunk as he is, he still digs out his toolbox and gets to work. The job turns out almost decent.

By December, Severus is at the pub, feeding cats on his break and making deliveries when he has the time. Eileen is brewing and Tobias is doing carpenter's work fixing and building wardrobes, cupboards, cabinets and everything else. It keeps him busy enough that some days he doesn't see a drink at all. It's not much, but there's a little food on the table at the end of each day, and Severus thinks that he's probably better off than he would have been at Hogwarts.

Sometime around Christmas, his mother talks him into getting a Muggle education and writing his NEWTs. He writes the O-Levels for his Muggle exams in January. They're a breeze, given how well-read he is. He sees Petunia at the store shortly after, and she sneers vaguely in his direction. He hears her condescending voice in the back of his head and decides to sit the A-Levels in May out of spite.

His birthday comes and goes, the NEWTs come right after and he aces each and every one of the written exams. The practicals are spread out across the following weeks, and he's leaving the Ministry after his last exam to find that the date coincides with that of a field trip for the Sixth Years at Hogwarts.

He watches them a little, tearing his gaze away after he catches sight of a tanned arm draped over a shoulder touched by a red braid. The students mill near the doors for a while and so, Severus looks around for escape routes, eyes skipping hurriedly from door to door until they rest on a Ravenclaw who'd also taken the January NEWTs. All kinds of people had been there, adults who hadn't passed when they were younger and needed to retake the exams to get jobs, teenagers who had family fortunes waiting for them whose parents wanted them to at least look like they were competent, and overachievers--like Severus assumed the Ravenclaw was--who wanted to know where they stood before the actual exam. He jerks his chin toward another door, this one proclaiming to lead to the "Apparition Division". Severus nods once at him and makes his way toward it.

There's a one-day course for Apparition, apparently. The woman at the receptionist desk doesn't even bother looking at him, just points him in the direction of the Training Room with her nail file. He stays for nearly the rest of the day, until they're finally done. He gets his license and is quietly pleased to see that the building is nearly devoid of life when he leaves. He goes home.

May and June come around and bring with them the A-Levels. He finds them only marginally more challenging than his O-Levels and returns to his routine. It's a nice routine, which takes him all the way through to July of the next year when Lily starts coming in with Black and Potter and Pettigrew and Lupin. The first time it happens, he leaves the counter so fast that the patron he'd just given a glass of water to is convinced he teleported. He's already taken his regular break to go feed Mrs. Jones' cats, so he steps into the kitchen and tells Jimmy he's taking a smoke break. Jimmy snorts and reminds him that he doesn't smoke.

He fidgets, trying to think up a way to avoid going back out, when the ruckus they're making makes Jimmy look through the little window and see the lot of them crowded around a little table. He gets a peculiar look on face for a bit, before he asks Severus if they have something to do with why he doesn't go to his fancy school anymore. He doesn't need an answer, just tells him to keep an eye on the food and steps out to man the counter. Severus stays late, frying chips and washing dishes until the early hours of the morning when Jimmy pats him on the back and kicks him out.

It keeps up until September comes around, and by then, Severus has taken so many smoke breaks that he's actually started smoking. He keeps smoking long after they're gone.

He goes back to his routine until it's broken again by a letter that comes by owl. It's a short letter, coming from a Potions Master whose apprentice had been overseeing the exams. It claims that his work was the best either of them had seen in years and after asking around, they'd found that he was unbound to any Master and was highly recommended by the Malfoys. It ends with an offer. Severus would think himself foolish not to accept, so, he does. After that, two days a week are dedicated to Flooing to Master Diogene's laboratory to fulfil the requirements of his apprenticeship. It finds its own little nook in his routine and so he continues until June of 1980.

He's preparing to go to the pub when there's a knock at the door. It's not so uncommon anymore, so he thinks nothing of it, only that he hopes it doesn't take too long. His shift starts in half an hour. He pushes his shirt sleeves up to his elbows, where they perpetually are these days, and decides he'll roll them up properly later. He opens the door.

"Good afternoon," a very pregnant Lily says, and standing next to her is the Ravenclaw from the Ministry, back straight, arms clasped behind his back, his entire being alert.

"Good afternoon," he replies, awkward. After a long moment of silence, he asks, "Can I help you?"

"Depends on whether or not you let us in," she says.

Wordlessly, he steps aside, sliding the three pairs of shoes nearer to the wall in order to let them pass. "Do you want tea?"

"No," she says, at the exact same time her Auror friend says, "Thank you."

He gestures them into the little kitchen, where they sit at the little table where he and his mother and his father take their meals. He tugs his wand out of his boot, flicks it so that the cauldron bubbling away on the stove scoots aside but doesn't spill. The burner beneath lights on its own. He puts the kettle, already full, on to boil. "So," he begins, absentmindedly rolling up his sleeves. "Is there something you need from me?"

Lily smiles, strained. "Can't I just visit an old friend?"

"Sure," he says, quietly. "You made it very clear that you would prefer if we weren't, though."

Her expression twists. "And with good reason," she grits.

He says nothing. The kettle whistles. He searches for the boxes of tea, sets about mixing two cups of mint. He puts them both on a tray with milk and sugar, as well as the small container of honey kept for special occasions. He puts it on the table.

"I'm sorry."

She doesn't say anything, just watches him with bright, green eyes aflame with old anger. She picks up one of the teacups and starts doctoring it to her liking. Her Auror friend follows suit. It really is obvious, Severus thinks, watching the man scan the room from top to bottom, corner to corner. He sighs. "Why are you here, Lily?"

She glares at her tea. The Auror shifts uncomfortably. Severus sighs again. "You know, when people visit old friends, they usually don't bring Aurors with them."

"Trainee, actually. This is my last year." He grins sheepishly. "That obvious?"

Severus nods.

He leans over the table, stretches out a hand. His right, Severus notices. He leans over and shakes with his left.

"Kingsley Shacklebolt," the Auror trainee introduces himself.

"Severus Snape, but you already knew that."

"Ah, yes. Of course."

Lily continues to glare at her tea. Shacklebolt fidgets. Severus stares, adjusts the heat on the burner below the cauldron. Silence prevails. The door creaks open, just then, and Eileen comes in, stirring rod in hand. "You'll be late if--oh," she says, noticing their guests. "Good afternoon."

"Good afternoon," the other three respond with varying degrees of enthusiasm.

"Well, if it isn't Lily Evans. It's been quite a while, hasn't it? You look well," Eileen says, nudging her son out of the way so she can poke at the mixture in the cauldron.

"You as well," Lily mumbles. "And it's, ah, it's Potter now, actually. Lily Evans Potter."

"Ah, I see. My mistake. Congratulations are in order, then, Mrs. Potter."

"Congratulations," Severus echoes.

"And you're a Shacklebolt, yes?" Eileen continues, her hands methodically sprinkling ground lavender into the cauldron. "Elodie's son, I should think. You resemble her quite a bit."

"Yes, ma'am," the trainee replies. "Grandmother says I'm nearly a carbon copy."

Eileen hums, lowers the heat under the cauldron. She takes out the stirring rod, examining the clinging lavender paste before wiping it off and placing it on the counter. "I suppose I'll leave you it, though Doris just passed, and she said that Jimmy has a full house, so, do try to hurry. It's already nearly four."

"Yes, Mam."

She leaves, and once more, silence settles over the small kitchen. Severus looks at the clock on the wall, sees that it does, indeed, say that it's minutes to four. Eleven minutes, to be exact, and it's a ten minute walk to the pub. He starts gathering the tea things, has just taken Shacklebolt's empty teacup when Lily clears her throat.

"Are you a Death Eater?" she asks.

"No," Severus tells her, and takes her teacup. Ten minutes to four.

"Prove it," she says, glaring.

Severus sets down the tray and leans across the table, arms outstretched, palms up, forearms exposed. The skin on either arm is pale, smooth and utterly unmarked, save and except for the scars one is bound to get when their preferred work involves knives and hot cauldrons.

"You keep regular contact with Narcissa and Lucius Malfoy, as well as Regulus Black and Evan Rosier, all of whom are suspected Death Eaters. Why?"

Severus' eyes narrow. "Lucius is sponsoring my Potions Mastery. Narcissa, for whatever reason, enjoys my conversation. Regulus and Evan both seem to think that I'll drop dead if I don't speak to them at least once a week and I haven't been able to disabuse them of the notion--though, not for lack of trying."

"So, you aren't planning to become a Death Eater?" Seven minutes to four.

"I'm not," Severus says, biting down on something rising in his chest. He returns the tea things to their proper places, washes the cups and sets them to dry. When he looks at them again, Lily's glare has softened into an unwavering stare.

"Are you certain?" she asks, and Severus grits his teeth.

"Oh, no, not at all. I only left the Wizarding World to live in a Muggle neighbourhood with my Muggle father, work for a Muggle and feed old ladies' cats and fix their husbands' cabinets because I thought it would make it easier for me when I decided I wanted to murder them all. Obviously," he snaps, throat closing around the words as soon they've been forced out of his mouth. His jaw clamps shut. Three minutes to four.

"You're being an a—" she starts, but then she bites her tongue. "Why... why did you leave?"

He stands silent for a moment. "Reasons I don't believe we have time to discuss. It appears that I'm late for work, I'm afraid." The clock reads three fifty-nine. By the time, he reaches the front door, it will be four o' clock. He starts walking.

"But–" Lily begins, standing.

He gestures them onto the porch while he shoves his feet into his boots. "Terribly sorry to leave in a hurry like this, but duty calls. Things to do, people to see. Enjoy your evening, Mrs. Potter. Auror Trainee Shacklebolt." Four o' clock.

"Really–"

"Until next time, Mr. Snape," Shacklebolt interjects, and with a stiff nod, he and Lily make their way towards the Apparition Point they'd used and Severus is walking down the street. He exhales, slowly, carefully at the quiet, telltale crack of Disapparition off in the distance. He picks up the pace and hopes that'll be the end of it. He knows it won't, though. Until next time, Shacklebolt said.

It isn't the end, of course. It never is. There's a knock at the door just before he's ready to leave the next afternoon, and he contemplates just not answering the door and staying at home for the foreseeable future. There's enough food to last at least a week, and he could always just tell Mrs. Havisham that he wasn't feeling well. The news would make it around the town and back within the day. The knock sounds again. He sighs and gets up to go answer it. "Can I help you?"

"Only if you want to. May I come in?" Shacklebolt asks.

Against his better judgement, Severus lets him in.

#severus snape #snapedom #pro snape #fic #i didn't expect anyone to take me seriosuly but someone did and goddamn it i'll be damned if i don't give them something to read #anyways have fun #probably a bit ooc #but that's what makes aus fun amirite hehe #alright that's enough from me

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ginnywasafriendofmine · 3 years

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So I wrote this last night while wondering if things could have turned out differently if James Potters parents had survived. It evolved in a way I didn't expect (Euphemia Potter, where have you been hiding?) It's not finished either, but here is what I have so far...

They lived

When Fleamont Potter first felt the stirrings of pain, deep in his chest-he ignored it. He was no healer, and it was to be expected in his age after all. He ignored it when he felt it flutter through his spine, passed it off as a working hazard when he felt a pang in his knees. (He shouldn’t have been fiddling with that old cauldron anyways).

But when his wife said to him, almost idly at the fireside-

“Will you remind me to owl Healer Robbins in the morning? I had a strange pain in my shoulder earlier, and it doesn’t seem to have gone away just yet.”

Fleamont looked at his wife, her hands quick and nimble as they laced glimmering threads through soft fabric. He looked at his wife, and saw his life’s love before him. He saw the dark eyes that had drawn him to her, the sharp wit of her tongue and the power and grace he knew not. He saw beyond her greying hair and the fine lines that told stories of their joy, and saw the life they had built. The garden they had cultivated, the business that had flourished beneath their feet, the son who had his mothers eyes as well as her spirit, her spark, her joy.

Fleamont looked at his wife, his partner and knew that the world would be just that dimmer without her.

“Actually dear, I think we should owl them tonight.”

Their young son, his dark head of hair ducking under the mantle as he arrived, joined them at St. Mungos, his glowing wife at his side, her fingers weaving knots into her robes. James paled as he watched the Healers gather around the ones who had given him life, and he rushed to call his brother to his side, their dark heads bowed together as they sat in the crowded little waiting room.

So Fleamont saved his wife, but he died that Thursday afternoon with his little family gathered at his bedside, his last act of love surviving without him.

Lily Potter may have danced with her new father-in-law at her wedding, his beaming smile as bright as the candles flickering around them but it was to her husband's mother, alone, that she passed her newborn baby to.

Harry Fleamont Potter felt a fitting tribute, and James was sure he wasn’t imagining the tears sparkling in his mothers eyes.

Harry learned to walk through his grandmother's begonias, the ones that, in another life he may have walked towards his namesake. Or in another life, he would not know existed at all.

When the war which had brewed around them throughout their adolescence came knocking at their door, James cloistered his young family into Godric's Hollow, leaving his mother alone at the Manor where he had frolicked and grown and on one fine summer's day wed his now targeted wife.

James did not apologise to his mother as he kissed her goodbye. He didn't need to.

Her second son, the one whose hair was as Black as his name, as black as the scorch mark his birth mother had left in his wake, loped through the wards every few days. Neither of them dared voice the hope, that courageous flighty thing that had found a home within their chests as they sipped their tea, watching sunsets that should have been savoured.

But they did dare to hope, they dared to trust. And James Potter, who may have his mothers eyes and her spirit, also had his fathers unwavering loyalty. He trusted the wrong man.

(and their protection fell, shocks of green light rang through the air, and a boy who had found love and joy in the presence of his first friend, found his worst nightmare come to life instead as he rushed through the air on a motorbike he would soon hand away).

And the dog chased the rat, and the rat knew how to disappear when all the dog knew how to do was grieve.

Fleamont’s last act of devotion didn’t change the fact that Euphemia woke up on November 1st with an intrinsic feeling of dread. When she opened the door she wasn’t faced with a scarred orphan as a shrieking Petunia Dursley was three counties over, but with the weary and regretful eyes of the men in red robes who had come to symbolise loss in their world.

Euphemia managed to hold it together, her head held high until they used the words ‘Death Eater’ and ‘Sirius Black’ in the same sentence. Only then did she start to laugh, that horrible haunting laugh that only Blacks could. For Euphemia may have looked like her mother who had grown up across the world, but she was still a Black.

The two men, who had expected a feeble old woman and had gotten a glimpse of true Black madness did not think to question her when she demanded an escort to the Ministry. For her dear, kind son and his brave and bright wife would have to wait, their bodies still and cool as they would be for eternity, for it was her second son who needed her now. Her second son who sat in a stone cell and had cried himself to sleep.

For all that Remus-scarred, sweet, lonely and heartbroken-thought it was Sirius still, Euphemia knew her son. She knew he couldn’t be responsible for this. She also knew the look in a boy’s eyes when envy and greed had made its way deep into his heart, and she had seen it on Peter Pettigrew’s face one too many times to be as trusting as her dearly departed son.

With the power of her husband's name and his wealth she bullied an unsuspecting Barty Crouch into a trial the very next day, where a relieved Remus sat beside her, shaking while she was still. Later Sirius had wept apologies into her cloak, his regret tangible and as dark as his hatred for the man he had once called a brother.

Sirius did not spend his 22nd birthday as he had planned, holed up with three Potters, being plied with cake and butterbeer, but he spent it screaming at the man he had once called a leader, at the man whose heart may have been heavy with regret, but whose hands still meddled in places he ought not to touch.

The day after they gathered in Godric’s Hollow and watched a pair of twin coffins lowered into the fresh earth.

(While miles away, Harry cried for his mother and wondered why this woman who did not resemble anyone he knew had hands as sharp as her beady eyes).

Euphemia had saved her son from twelve years in Azkaban, but that did not mean she was going to leave the precious boy that had somehow survived, her husband's namesake, with a woman who had hated her own sister nearly as much as she had once loved her.

Euphemia hadn’t expected Dumbledore to interfere.

Dumbledore had expected Euphemia to acquiesce once he had explained with words like blood protection, and love sickly sweet on his tongue.

But she did not.

Perhaps, in another world-one where Fleamont survived the night that his dear wife did, this would have played out differently. Quieter perhaps.

But Euphemia was different from Monty. She had grown up having to hold her head up, high, above the snickers and the stares and the comments. She had grown up between two worlds; not white enough, not dark enough. Having to make space for herself in a world that did not know what to do with her.

When she first visited her family in India it wasn’t the overwhelming feeling of joy, she had expected, but rather a deep, dark loss in her soul. A wanting, a longing, a missing she would never truly understand. The colours were just as vivid, the smells just as enchanting, the sounds, the streets filled with life. But Mia had grown up across the world, where she’d had to learn to pronounce her r’s just so, how to preen, and dress and and hide so much of herself away that she’d never really found it again. Mia had grown up with a mother who was just as much a British citizen as everyone else around them, but different in a way they would never understand.

(It was only when she met a man with eyes as deep as the ocean, and a smile that made her feel like she could soar did she feel she was coming out of the seams. Bit by painstaking bit).

So yes, Monty, with his lineage and his old money and his class wouldn’t have dared, his fight would have taken place quietly, behind the scenes, where there was no fuss, no ruckus.

But Monty wasn’t here anymore, and Mia had spent her life being quiet.

So she raged, and stormed and threw herself into a battle with the most powerful man in Wizarding Britain. She argued her way through the courts, through countless politicians, secretaries and bureaucrats who she had spent her life kowtowing to when she was nothing but an immigrant's daughter with no power they could understand.

And she won.

The snow had just begun to stick, and the lights were up in the neighbors windows when her grandson finally came home to her, with a trembling lip and a scarred forehead.

Euphemia Potter held him close - his hair smelt just like James had, when he was little, when her entire world could fit in her arms-and then passed him to her other son. The one who hadn’t been born from her, but who she loved just the same.

They’d both had something taken from them, something ripped away with a cold curse and a flash of light, and she knew that only they could understand each other now. So Mia stayed in her opulent and empty house, and Sirius settled in the South Wing at the room that had always been his, his godson slumbering safely in his arms.

That first Christmas was as dark as the words carved into stone back in Godric's Hollow. Two men who had to learn to trust each other again and a woman who many had expected to break by now. Only Harry’s laugh, his smile, his sparkling eyes could light up their bleak and unforgiving day.

So Harry forgot the mean, cold woman who stared at him like something she would rather forget, and spent the spring with his grandmother as she planted flowers, her fingers quick and nimble as they had always been. He spent it with his godfathers-both of them-while one suffered each month as he always had, but whose love for Harry never wavered, and the other finally grew up.

For in this world Sirius Black did not wile away his years counting his regrets as he counted the bars on his cells. In this world he strategised, he built battle plans with the same fervour and determination he might have used to sliver between those bars as a shaggy, black dog. He focused on wiping out the forces that had taken so much of the light from their world.

But he did not do this alone. For in losing one brother, he had gained another back.

Regulus Black did not go to die in the cave that dark day in October of 1979. He would still be brave, and fierce, and full of righteous anger, but he did not die alone and afraid. Regulus Black had been in St. Mungos that summer, regretfully rejecting his prized and hard worked offer of a place as a Healer.

Regulus Black had been there. He had seen his brother-the one who he missed as much as Petunia Evans missed her own sister-pale and weary with grief. He had seen him stumble in the corridor from Fleamont Potters room, the loss deeply etched in his face.

Grief is the price we pay for love.

Regulus had watched his brother, and wondered if perhap there were things worth living for-as much as they were worth dying for.

So despite what his mother, and the Dark Lord, and about every other Black relative wanted him to do-A Healer? How plebian. Regulus Black did what he had always yearned to, and was brave. He tore the rejection letter from the secretaries fist, and asked, with a weak attempt at his brothers bravado;

“What day do I start?”

So Regulus had taken a different path, a path that was still hard-for the road to hell was still paved with good intentions.

Regulus stood with his head held high above the looks and snide comments-from both his Death Eater cohorts and his fellow trainees. But the Dark Lord could not touch him, could not stray him from this path, for the vow that was taken on his first day of orientation had sworn him to the Healing service, and even Tom Riddle knew some vows could not be broken.

Regulus Black had taken a different path (though the knowledge of the Horcrux and the unrelenting question of what/when/how still lingered) and was finishing up his rotation in the children’s ward when his long lost brother rushed in, a feverish child in his arms, and panic wreaking havoc in his young face.

“Please, I don’t know what’s wrong-I-I, he wouldn’t eat, and now he’s warm, too warm, and I-”

“Hand him to me.”

And Sirius had passed over the child he thought of as a son to a man he didn’t recognise and saw a boy he had once known.

“I-Reggie-?”

But Regulus had always been good at his job. Even the other trainees, who glowered at him through the corridors as they once had in Hogwarts could not deny this. Regulus saw the brother whose approval he had always craved, but he did not think of it now. Regulus only looked at the child who lay shivering before him, and set to work.

Dragon Pox may have taken Fleamont Potter, but Regulus Black’s quick mind and steady hands ensured that his namesake did not follow in this regard. Sirius had cried tears of relief, and Remus had shaken Regulus’ hand so hard it felt bruised.

By now Harry had spent as much time without his parents as he had with them, and his loss would have taken his family to a place they could not return

Once Harry had settled, Mia Potter at his bedside and Remus Lupin fetching the blanket that Harry reached for every night, did the two brothers talk.

They spoke of nothing that had lingered deep in their minds, and their hearts in the years since the older one had departed.

“A Healer, huh?” Sirius Black tried to hide his surprise.

Regulus bit back the 'You once told me I was good at Healing spells' and managed a smile. "Yes, coming on four years now.”

Regulus felt young in his brother's presence (even if they were both the same height now).

“That’s… really great.” Sirius smiled, looking close to proud.

“That's James son, isn't it?” Regulus asked, and watched the darkness flicker in his brothers eyes again.

“You can tell by the hair, huh?”

Really he could tell by the way Sirius looked at the boy-the same way he had always looked at James-but he smiled at his brother's attempt at humor anyways.

When the little family left two days later, a chagrined Sirius mumbled something out that was close to an invitation-coffee? Do you drink coffee? As he left St. Mungos, his beloved godson giggling in his arms.

Regulus watched and wondered if perhaps he had gotten his brother back. If his brother would walk away from him again.

(He would, once he found out about the paradoxical life his brother led, a Healer who moonlights as a Death Eater. The life of one who fixes scars and curses he recognises, the life of one who is vowed to both worlds even as they threaten to pull him apart at the seams).

But this time he would come back. And not on accident, stumbling in with a sick child, but with a determination for history not to repeat itself.

For this Sirius Black knew about the transformative power of second chances.

Harry Potter grew up at his grandmother's elbow, learning about his culture, his heritage. What was left of it. Some had been lost to time, others to the journey made from Delhi to here. The rest to the pressure of a world who didn’t want girls with dark skin and a determined glint in her eye.

But in this world Harry knew who he was. Where he had come from. What had been lost so he could live. And oh, did he live.

He lived in the same trees and lakes his own father had made his kingdom at his age, he lived in the books his Moony shared with him-Moony, who watched as identical green eyes skimmed over the same pages he had seen a flame-haired girl devour. He lived in the adventures, the wild reckless stories and pursuits of his Padfoot. He lived in his grandmother's kitchen, watching her bake roti in between English cakes of lemon drizzle and his favourite treacle tart.

Harry lived, and he knew what it was to be loved.

(After all, a boy must live so he can learn to die.

And even now, even here, Harry still had to be the boy who learned to walk to his death).

#harry potter #harrypotterau #fanfic #what if #ao3 writer #sirius black #euphemia potter #hp fanfic #writing

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fen1s · 3 years

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Lmaoo so there is this one tweet that actually describes what I really think the insane mauruaders stans and the tweet goes : some of yall heard one fucking word and now yall can't stop saying it (and it's like a reference to those fuckers who say gatekeep, gaslight, toxic but for everything and they act its profound or some shit). I think they um definetly saw those words and deadass went let's be eco friendly and reuse the same arguments and everyone else went yes. And when there was a genuine difference of opinion they go to their backup response : by supporting this element or seeing their pov you are ( anti Semitic /racist / homophobic) and it's just like :you are aware the same people exist in this community right???

(also I really find it funny that some of them literally don't think the mauruaders won't fucking hate crime them, no ma'am they will hate crime you and then proceed to get the slap on the wrist, they are the reasons your school has anti bullying week [also lmaoo pandering to them makes to be in the 'group' makes all of you Peter Pettigrew you know the same dude you all decided to ignore] )

And then I have to remind myself that there will be one of them who will raise kids and try to be 'jily' parents which I assume is living vicariously through your child because God you peaked in highschool and you won't shut the fuck up about it (and lack any fucking development) which is consistent with Canon so hey it does work out. Also like who's gonna pay for your child's therapy when they realize people who are dickish to you are simply just dickish and no why do you think this is an enemies to lovers trope (and also for their kids dry ass personality which they got from their parents because ik they would want them to be constantly involved but like gym teacher with a kid who's into slight sports and now the kid has to try to get in the national team lol)

Like I need them to have a snape attitude towards kids which was very much : fuck them kids ( and I honestly couldn't agree more to.)

Hey so if you're a fan of the m*rauders and this appears in the general tag, im sorry, i tagged the post correctly but sometimes the tagging system doesnt filter content correctly, but just so yall know, below the read more will be content that is very m*rauder critical which yall may not like or may be upset by. this is a fair warning

It's genuinely frustrating how often they repeat the same arguments as if we care. like we know snape isnt a kind person and we know he doesnt make the best or morally correct decisions, but they never hold other characters to a remotely similar standard that they hold snape to

they like characters due to popularity and how much they can add in headcanons, we know almost nothing about the marauders era, so they can make their own universe independent of the harry potter plot line, but they dont actually give a shit about the canon characterizations we already have

the m*rauders are not canonically progressive, their bullying of snape isn't coming from a progressive stance. they literally only bully him because they think hes weird. there isnt any canon evidence that they went after students who were actively causing harm to others, such as avery and mulciber (two boys who actively were attacking muggleborn students), they never went after regulus despite the fact that je was outspokenly supportive of voldemort to the point where regulus basically had a fucking shrine dedicated to him, there isnt any canon evidence that they went after any other junior death eater. there is canon evidence that they attacked random kids simply for annoying them. there is canon evidence that they used illegal hexes on students that had the risk of causing permanent bodily damage. and i think the real nail on the coffin for the idea that the m*rauders only went after snape due to him being a wannabe death eater is something sirius literally says

this means that even during the war, the m*rauders didnt suspect snape of being a death eater, let ALONE when they were at school

they also just think all snape fans are white straight cis women who obsess over the "always 🥺" line. like they dont take into account POC fans, lgbtq+ fans, nonbinary or trans fans, jewish fans, poor fans, disabled fans, neurodivergent fans. they paint us all with the "you never read the books you just want to fuck alan rickman" brush and call it a day so they dont actually have to engage with us despite constantly coming into our spaces

also it BOTHERS me how they'll call snape a n@zi and then turn around and say "awe james was just a bit of a jerk !! 🥺🥺" bestie he was an actual genuine sadist who got off on bullying and sexually assaulting kids he deemed weird. like sorry to the alt m*rauder kinnies, but if you're punk, emo, goth whatever james potter would've bullied the absolute hell out of you. canonically. sirius literally defends his bullying of snape by calling him an oddball, yall dont think you would've been on the other end of their bullying?

#anti marauders #anti james potter #anti sirius black #pro severus snape #severus snape #this got kind of rambly #also if this does find its way into the m*rauder tag id recomment filtering the anti general tags so that this type of content doesnt appea #in the search engines in the future

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theoriginalcarnivorousmuffin · 4 years

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Lily Evans and Severus Snape: Headcanons

So, I was asked in the ask about Sirius and Regulus what I thought about Snape and Lily. At this point people are probably going, “Oh that Carnivorous Muffin is just clearly a Snape stan who thinks he could never do anything wrong and anyone who was slightly mean to him is evil.” Shockingly, I’m actually not, I just happen to think sexual harassment and attempted murder are bad and probably worse than JKR intended (I do think she was trying to go the “boys will be boys” route versus “oh my god, they just dumped pigs blood on Carrie at the prom and then threw her at a starving vampire”)

So let’s start on Snape.

First, Snape did live an incredibly shitty life, with circumstances beyond his control, that did lead to many of his poorer choices. In no way am I saying that it was alright for Snape to have grown up in an impoverished, abusive, household and endured years of humiliation and torment at school.

That said, I believe that we all, in some respects, are responsible for our actions and our decisions. Yes, even when we come from non-privileged backgrounds. Life is hard, some people will have it much easier than you, that doesn’t excuse you becoming a domestic terrorist or tormenting and terrifying your students, young children, so much so that an entire generation comes out with a loathing and incompetence in your subject.

I guess let’s start back on his friendship with Lily Evans. We get... a really weird perspective from Snape on that friendship. Time and her tragic death have warped it into this strange worship where I’m not sure the Lily Evans that exists in his mind and memory is the one that really was there. She’s this shining Madonna idol who he failed, actively betrayed, is very very hung up about it years later.

I suspect they weren’t as good of friends as either of them thought they were and it comes down to Snape’s resentment of his own upbringing and muggles. I believe Snape was very racist towards muggles, specifically, due to his father. It was his way of grappling with his home life and only fueled by being in Slytherin. Lily was probably, in his mind, always a golden exception to the rule (Lily is the token, gold standard, muggleborn where she’s pretty, brilliant, charming, etc.) That Severus himself was a halfblood clearly caused him some angst. What I’m getting at is that I believe throughout their entire friendship, especially when they got to Hogwarts, there was an unacknowledged undercurrent of intense racism that eventually boiled up with that one incident in Snape’s fifth year.

Calling her that, while he views it as a slip of the tongue that damned him for all time, I see it more as a Freudian Slip. That sort of thing doesn’t just slip out from nowhere, not at that age when they both knew exactly what that word meant, it simmers beneath the surface, and was ultimately what he thought of her. Later, she became the Madonna figure that he views her as today (ironically perhaps even less of a person than he viewed her as at the time).

That said I think a number of factors played into the young Snape becoming a Death Eater. One, becoming friends with Lucius/that crowd who were all being sucked into Tom’s influence. Two, having his terrible home life and all the implications of Snape resenting his own blood status as well as muggles and muggle borns at large. Three, the loss of friendship with Lily (now there’s nothing to hold him back anymore, he has no reason to preserve muggleborn life). Fourth, Dumbledore’s letting Sirius, James, and Remus entirely off the hook in the werewolf incident.

That last one, especially, I imagine cemented Snape’s utter hatred of ‘the light’ (don’t get me started on the stupidity of light/dark in Harry Potter but I guess I’ll use the term) and those that cater to muggleborns. They’re hypocrites of the highest order, Dumbledore claiming to defend the poor and non-nobility, when he goes and does the exact opposite (James is the next lord Potter, Sirius is still pureblooded even if disowned, Severus Snape is a dirt poor halfblood).

So what I’m saying is I understand why Snape did become a Death Eater, I do not condone this action. Especially as, unlike Regulus, Snape never gets cold feet. He loves being a Death Eater at first, he’s living the dream, getting all the revenge he ever wanted and burning the stupid wizarding world to the ground as he scrambles for ways to climb in Tom Riddle’s graces. We don’t see any hint that he was wavering, thinking of the fact that beloved Lily might die in battle, perhaps at his hand, until the prophecy.

Now, I’m a little kinder than some about the prophecy. We know Snape overhears the first portion of the prophecy in early 1980. He eagerly rushes to the dark lord, regales him with the prophecy in both a) aid to the cause and b) in the hopes of climbing in the ranks and gaining the dark lord’s notice. At this point, Lily Evans is pregnant, perhaps knows the gender, but has not given birth. Months later, when both Neville Longbottom and Harry Potter are born at the end of July, Snape realizes he has signed Lily Evans’ death warrant (because despite Dumbledore talking, I imagine Tom always planned to kill off both children, Pettigrew just happened to make things convenient for Tom to go to the Potters first).

With Lily’s death now so inevitable, and her blood on his own hands, Snape has his existential crisis, goes to Dumbledore who puts the Potters in hiding and becomes a double agent. Snape also pleads for Lily’s life with Tom and he puts in a minimal amount of effort to spare the woman.

Then Lily dies anyway and now Snape lives in the bitter cynicism most commonly seen in characters from Game of Thrones. He’s Dumbledore’s agent and sort of a Dirty Harry character, getting to see all the nasty things that many of the other order members never have to deal with. He’s one of the more intelligent characters in the series, able to see the truth of the world he lives in, but he also doesn’t care enough to actually do anything about it. He’s a bitter, resentful, and angry protector of Harry Potter, choosing to hate a naive child for all the reminders of his own terrible life (both in Lily, for failing and betraying her, and in James his most hated rival and tormentor). He gleefully enables the favoritism of Slytherin (my god how he panders to Draco Malfoy) while tormenting poor Neville into terror (that Neville’s greatest 13 year old fear is Snape is very telling).

Basically by the time we get to him in canon Snape not only isn’t happy but I think he doesn’t want to be happy. He’s accustomed to his bitterness, his cynicism, his quiet rage and moves forward out of both resignation, guilt, and a sense of obligation to a woman’s ghost. The actions he takes in canon aren’t so much for Harry as they are for the memory of Lily Evans.

Even if Snape could be happy at that point, change his life or his purpose, I do not think he would. He’s a man who has given up on life.

Now, onto Lily Evans.

You probably think I’m going to rail on her to for the sheer hypocrisy and nerve of marrying James Potter. I’m actually not. Lily Evans is one of my favorite characters in the Harry Potter series and probably the one I’d label as the most moral (though that’s a very low bar in Harry Potter, the characters are almost all assholes, but even so Lily would still be very high on the list).

You know what, I’m just going to damn myself and sound like a crazy person. Lily Evans always reads to me as a more moral young female Tom Riddle.

What the hell? You undoubtedly ask but I’ll explain.

Lily, while having a far more stable homelife than Tom Riddle, also comes from a muggleborn background. She’s exceptionally brilliant, very good looking, and very charming with a lot of people who would call her friends but no one close. Lily, aside from Snape (and that’s debatable), has no friends.

If Lily had not been a Gryffindor, and were Dumbledore not a raging misogynist, his Tom Riddle bells likely would have been ringing with her.

“But wait, that can’t be right!”

Oh, yes it can. First, as I went into above with Snape and Lily, there was something deeply wrong with that friendship. I believe they both considered themselves best friends, didn’t see many of the warning flags, but ultimately we see the giant fissure when Snape lets loose the m-word. Given all of that, I would not label them having been true friends in the first place. Just the appearance of friends.

Otherwise, while it’s very easily to canonically point out James’ friends it’s incredibly difficult to do so with Lily. First, people hardly remember Lily. We get Dumbledore talking about her like she’s the Virgin Mary, saving her son with the power of her love. We get Snape’s weird Virgin Mary impressions of her. Otherwise, it’s pretty much just Slughorn. Everyone else remembers that she married James and that was great because JAMES WAS SO COOL and that she had very striking eyes and was “nice”. Lily is less than a ghost in Harry Potter canon (sadly Harry never really realizing it).

Also, unlike James who has Sirius, Remus, and Peter to point towards (that are very important characters in canon). Lily has no one. The godmother was Alice Longbottom, a woman many years older than Lily and James who probably liked Lily well enough but I can’t imagine was a close friend. In canon there’s an offhand mention of two girls named Mary and Marlene but we don’t see much of them/Severus was always cited as Lily’s closest friend. As for Lily’s sister, well we know they’re estranged. I think it’s very telling that Lily writes a letter to Sirius, James’ best friend and certainly not hers, telling him that James is pouting over his invisibilty cloak. It’s because there was no one else to write.

So Lily Evans is a brilliant girl, who everyone likes and is very charming, but has no friends and led a very lonely and short life.

Here’s where my slack towards Lily comes in.

When she dumps Snape I completely understand why she did so. Snape dropping that word wasn’t simply a mistake, a moment of infinite regret, but something that revealed what he truly thought of her and where she came from. Lily was absolutely right in walking away.

However, without Snape, her closest friend is suddenly gone and the world is cold. As graduation approaches I imagine Lily’s career options become clearer and clearer. While very talented and smart, Lily is a muggleborn, what job she does manage to get (thanks to the sheer nepotism of the wizarding world/lack of jobs) will likely be through Slughorn if she manages to get a job at all. The world is cold and it is cruel and no one seems to even notice.

Cue James Potter. I do believe, probably until seventh year, Lily loathed James, not simply because of the horrifying things he did to Severus (and I’m sure she knew very little of it, Snape hiding most of it from her out of pride and shame), but because he’s just a giant dick. He’d make flirting with her a kind of game and joke to be shared with Sirius, something to hold over Snape’s head, like she’s a prize to be one.

However, by seventh year the werewolf incident has happened, Snape’s retreated further and further into Death Eater recruit land and she’s cut him off, and for all my “James is a dick” I do imagine he calmed down a little. Now that Snape is no longer friends with Lily/after the whole almost murder incident I imagine they didn’t bully him nearly as much as they used to. Though yes, they probably still bullied him, but Lily probably doesn’t know that now that she’s lost contact with Snape.

James is charming and very good looking. He seems a bit more mature than he used to be. Lily is desperately lonely, living in a world that rejects everything she is, and James seems like one of the few who does support her (that James is more of a ‘pretty fly for a white guy’ kind of support for muggleborns doesn’t hit until later). So Lily is charmed and makes the largest mistake of her life, she and James start dating.

Now, given their extreme youth as well as Lily’s pedigree (say what you like, I don’t think Mr. and Mrs. Potter were thrilled that their son was dating a muggleborn) I imagine the wedding was a shot gun wedding and Lily got unintentionally pregnant. Yes, go ahead and throw fruit at me or call foul, I just can’t imagine they’d want a child that young while in the middle of a war while they’re part of an active resistance movement and only just out of Hogwarts.

Then things start snowballing downhill. Lily and James have just joined the resistance movement, Lily’s son is prophesied to defeat Voldemort, they strongly suspect one of James’ close friends is a spy, and they’re forced into hiding.

In hiding is where I imagine stress runs high and their marriage begins to fall apart. We know from Lily’s letter that James was routinely leaving hiding, using the cloak, so he could meet up with Sirius and Peter (I imagine Lupin’s on the out as they suspected he was the spy). While James might not realize what a big deal that was, I imagine Lily always did, and she begins to realize just what she’s gotten herself into but there’s no way out while in hiding.

Now we go really off the rails into headcanon territory in: what the hell is up with Harry Potter?

In my stories, I often choose the unwitting god route. Harry can’t die because he is a god, he becomes the master of death and always was the master of death. This is an answer, but it’s one that makes canon Harry a god and... I would not want canon Harry as a god. JKR and Dumbledore push the “Lily loved her child so much that it deflected death... multiple times” but this always felt... unsatisfying. Many parents love their children (fathers too, JKR, let’s not make this weird Virgin Mary thing) and yet Harry Potter alone in the history of mankind survives multiple times.

Most likely, Lily pulled off some insane bullshit with absolutely no resources and minimal education AND EVERYONE IGNORES IT. We do know that Lily crafted the blood wards, wards stronger than anything Dumbledore himself can come up with/than Voldemort can break. Ones that protect Harry not only at home but away from it as it melts Voldemort for simply touching his skin. Lily pulled off the impossible in only a few months and did it right under everyone’s nose.

This makes her easily one of the most intelligent characters in Harry Potter. Probably beating out Dumbledore and maybe tying with Tom Riddle. And Dumbledore tells us, “Your Virgin Mary mother loved you so much, Harry, that it courses through your veins and lights those that would want to harm you on fire.”

So, that’s Lily for you.

Now, that said, I’m probably a bit biased and clearly very lenient with her marrying James. To be honest it took me years to figure out why the hell Lily would ever marry James after what happened with Severus and was always one of those weird canon things I never quite understood. He’s that good looking and charming, I guess, was my response.

The answer I now land on with some confidence was that the world is that cruel and bleak and Lily was utterly alone for two years.

By the way, a side note/plug, of all my stories while head canons do pop up here and there I think “October” is one where they tend to crop up more. It’s a vast AU of canon, but it gives an idea of what I think x character would do in y situation.

#headcanons #harry potter #lily evans #severus snape #october

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burningthegallows · 2 years

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I think the reason that I was so wholly unwilling to accept Sirius’s death is that the character he was in book 4 was not the same character he was by the middle of book 5. Now that’s not to say the Sirius couldn’t have changed (in fact, his arc demanded it), but the way he changed and then the fact that those changes were never addressed…

Let me explain what I mean. Sirius is first introduced to us as a terrifying specter looming over Harry, even though Harry isn’t worried about him at all. He’s much too busy being ashamed of his reaction to the dementors.

He’s described as gaunt and empty-eyed and mad-looking. But even though the dursleys and the knight bus operators are afraid of him, Harry doesn’t seem concerned until he learns about Sirius’s supposed betrayal.

So in the HP universe, Harry should be afraid, but doesn’t even care. This allows us to feel self-righteous on behalf of Harry when the truth is revealed; Harry was right to not be afraid of him. (This is echoed in the next scene when the dementors attack, making Harry right again, but also Dumbledore and Mr. Weasley, who were right about them too).

Sirius is not someone to be afraid of. During the main confrontation, this is continued. At one point, Sirius has all of the wands, and Harry attacks him, overcoming him pretty easily.

Later in the same scene, Sirius has his strongest reaction when Pettigrew speaks about James to Harry. This respect shown to both Harry and his father has been sparse for Harry thus far.

So right away, we like this guy, not just believe him or sympathize with him. He has lupin’s stamp of approval and snape’s stamp of disapproval.

In book 4, Sirius risks and sacrifices to be close to Harry— he lives in a cave and has to forage for food. He also offers him the truth about people like Karkaroff and Crouch.

Finally, he stands with Hermione about Crouch being the worst, offering sensible advice. One of the quotes from Sirius that always (and I do mean always. I had it printed out and added to my wall of quotes when I was a wee beeb) spoke directly to me was, “If you want to know what a mans like, take a good look at how he treats his inferiors, not his equals.” {this has long reminded me of a beloved Goethe quote, “Men show their character in nothing more clearly than what they think laughable.”}

This was specifically in regards to Crouch’s treatment of Winky, btw, not of Percy (although fucking crouch is awful, calling Percy “whetherby” when Arthur was standing right fucking there ohmg).

In the fifth book, I was so disappointed by Sirius in the beginning— being so negative and self pitying —but I understood it. He went from one prison to being on the run to another prison. (Also how dumb was Sirius’s plot line? So dumb. Why stay in Britain? In London? Why not let him hide with aberforth or -fuck- just AT hogwarts? His time after vodie’s return was absolutely wasted.)

[how much of my issues with dumbledore are just me ascribing motives to jk* dumb fucking plot decisions and half-assed world building]

The moment that revealed that Sirius was not the same man anymore was the moment he kicked Kreacher. I understand that you took this man from a literal hell and then forced him into some sort of Sartre-No-Exit personal-fucking-nightmare of an existence; but do you honestly expect me to believe that after surviving thirteen years of mental-fucking-torture (not to mention, no books, no tv, no civil liberties, and gd prison food) he couldn’t make it six months with a grouchy personal slave and a portrait capable of being ignored??

Oh god and then that shit Sirius said about Harry being nothing like his father. That was some low fucking shit and just. No. Bitch please. That shit is so immature that even bb me was like 🤨 wtf

All these adults are presented to us as so exceptional, and then we have to watch them act like fucking idiotic children—and also watch that behavior be tacitly approved by other adults.

Point is, jk* retconned Sirius as an immature asshat in book 5. Coding all of his honesty with Harry as recklessness and turning all his words into accusations. I fucking hated it.

I’m not sure what happened between books 4&5, aside from jk* loosing her mind (and/or her soul), but man, tonally the series shifts and not in a good way. Books 1-4 have an optimistic message. Even the end of book 4 has a lot of hope built in.

[book 5 did seem determined to age up the content and make it clear that Harry was Going. Through. Puberty. It focused on political drama over moral (and holy shit umbridge is the best hp baddie to this day); most of the messaging was about controlling temper and emotions; and the biggest challenge is managing his mind (remedial potions). it felt so forced and faked. Pretty sure jk* was worried that her plan for book 5 wasn’t ‘adult’ enough to maintain her fucking huge audience and so she tried to age up the material and. Utterly fucking failed. Fire that fucking editor please]

Book five and what she did to Sirius was so hopeless. So futile. So immature. Jk*’s kids must have been shitty teens, because her Harry reads so much like a boomer’s shitty understanding of a teenager. And Sirius’s death feels like Harry’s petulance and impulsiveness is being punished.

Then you factor in how he died— indirectly. And how the blame is placed— indirectly. And it just seems… like such a halfassed end.

Don’t get me wrong, I still think this is a Very Cool Death— falling through a physical manifestation of the gate to the next realm— so cool. But. Not for Sirius.

[especially not when narratively, Sirius never got justice, and Harry never gets to grapple with Sirius’s immature behaviors on “screen”. I’ll still never forgive book 6 for not bringing back Sirius or better explaining his death]

Harry’s had too many parents disappear, it seems horrifically unfair that he never gets to have a last moment with Sirius in book 5. But fine, unfairness happens.

But. Buuuuuut. Narratively it doesn’t pay out. It’s too repetitive and it has a bad moral message. Even if it doesn’t have a happy or fair ending, it should still acknowledge these things. Even if things aren’t great, an indication of what good/great would look like is still important.

My point is… book 5 and Sirius’s plot arc were fucking disappointing and depressing. That plus Snape’s continued abuse and dumbledore’s refusal to meet with Harry, means that Harry’s journey the entire year was an exercise in futility and impotence. He should have been able to turn to other teachers for Umbridge at the very least (Hermione/Ron, wtf, just go to Dumbledore for Harry) but the message was constantly, don’t trust the adults, except when you should have, ffs know the difference.

Like. Get fucked jk*. What a dumb series of choices. I can’t believe I love this world and these characters so much.

Tldr: Sirius deserved better, obvi. But the rest of us did too.

#long post #hp reread #sirius black #hp #jk* wank #hp wank #though really this is just anger at jk*#someone tell me how to do the “’see more’ thing #I know the html to lj cut #and learning that was enough #I’d love to call this meta #but that would be misrepresenting my rant #Harry Potter

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regulusfate · 3 years

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we almost fell (six feet underground)

Plot : they learn to cope with life

James and Lily , had they survived

It was still dark when her eyes flew open , back half lifting from the soft springs of the mattress and the thick sheets spread along the bed became too suffocating. It was still dark outside , barely the break of morning to peek through , and frozen in silence.

Her eyelids were stiff with sleep , for that seemed to be all they had done in the last days , their relief dwindling from the moment of euphoria where she clutched him in the white walls of the hospital, his beating heart pressed to her ear , the steady rise and fall of his chest, Lily had only had a single other moment in her life where she felt more relieved than then. When her son was in her arms too, the innocence of his face with soft puckered lips that made little sound but moved as if to tell her all the secrets of the world and it was all she could do not crush him , crush him in the hold of her arms and never left go.

Silence , something that had been precious mere days before, that had joined the ever strand of coping mechanisms when stuck , so inevitably stuck , hiding and not fighting, hiding. They were confined to their home in godric's hollow and there were days where the walls stifled the air thick with a cotton thread that strung their hope in a mess of lines until they couldn't quite find the end. But the silence they were afforded had come with peace, for they could rest with their bodies side by side and enjoy the tender moments by the fire, where they said nothing at all but they needed to be held , they needed that silence to know they were safe.

The birds were not yet up to sing their song , left to the eerie chimes of the witching hour and an empty space beside her where the bed was loosing warmth, and a streak of light dancing along the wall from the door that was ajar. It strained at her eyes as he brain fought to catch up, limbs stiff with the ache of the prolonged stunner , for they had been frozen in place for minutes she could not count , but that was worth it. All of this was worth it, to know her family were alive.

This was a new silence now , one that frosted the grass with dew before the rain had chance to fall and shivered against patches of skin left open to the vulnerable cold , so different. Because she was awake, and no sound stirred, and her heart lurched to her throat with an incessant beating, she could not hear.

She could not hear them.

They were quiet , they were quiet and a small part of her brain reminded her that it was the early hours of the morning and they were meant to be quiet , to be asleep. And yet her husband was not beside her, his forever cold feet pressing into her legs, the tickle of the stubble growing on his face to brush against the back of her neck, he was not there.

It was irrational panic , but then not really, as she swung herself from the warmth of the covers and fumbled with her slippers. A cruel thought chewing at the back of her mind as her hands found the soft silk of her dressing gown, that in the dark and silence of what she would find - nothing at all.

The hall was lit with light and that soothed the stirring of frazzled fire, combing a tired hand through her the knots of her hair , her feet searching. A twinge of pain ran down her neck , reduced from the pulsing that plagued the back of her head , a thin scar hidden behind the thick curtain of red.

Her fingers found the door handle , her breath catching and maybe she hated herself a little for hesitating. There were still cracks in the wall, the handle loose in its hold and she pushed it open but her feet would not move.

Lily was looking for her child , but instead found her eyes swimming to the spot where she had been stood , a lump rising in her throat alongside an ugly thought; would she have the strength to do it again? She would, she could, but a pinch of doubt and a thousand scenarios and what if she had stood aside.

A hand fluttered up to her lips, pressing them tight to withhold the exhausted cry trapped in her throat , and then the wispy figures that plagued her dreams were lost from sight and no patch of carpet would blindside her from what she had to see , what she needed to know.

And her fingers found the cot , fixed - she didn't know when , she didn't know who, maybe she didn't want to know ? - the polished wood crafted beneath her fingers. James had put it together himself, whilst Sirius and Remus argued over the instructions, because her husband demanded to do it the 'proper' way and Peter .. Peter.

She'd never seen him more motivated to help before , a gentle thought had her wondering if she'd been looking hard enough , but between the four of them , little Harry's nursery ' I recommend his name to be Sirius Junior !' , ' Poor child ' had the baby blue walls painted and his furniture standing with weeks to spare.

She couldn't bring herself to hate the room , even after everything else. She couldn't, not when her little boy was the beacon of light that rolled out something warm across the the floor, something that outweighed everything that happened, even if she struggled to take the first step.

He was there , half curled beneath baby sized blanket with a hand clutching absently at the stuffed lion and a soft blush of red to his cheeks.

Lily felt herself smile tenderly , though her eyes suspiciously bright and wet as her hand moved down to stroke the soft silk of his hair , and find the rise of his chest to dampen any cause of worry , she knew how lucky they had been.

"Mumma loves you Harry ," she whispered , the echo of her same words on that night , but this time her baby would wake up in the morning and she would be around to see the wash of his big jewel eyes and the soft scrunch of his nose.

"So so much."

Now she was sure he child was there , breathing , safe. Though they could never be sure and would never be sure as their trust seemed shattered at their feet and they did not have the strength to pick it up again. But as long as she lived, she would do everything in her power to make sure no man , no women , no monster harmed her child.

A stir from downstairs , and she flinched unconsciously, her wand left on her bedside table with a hundred thoughts that followed in quick succession and maybe she moved to place herself between the door and her boy.

But Lily didn't , even as she cursed herself for leaving it behind, leaving them with misfortune to another's hand and what could have protected them from the shadow that crept up the stairs. There wasn't one, and she tried to remember that the only shadow now was her own.

Another noise , a stumbling of shuffling feet and the sound of paper ruffled and she lingered for a moment longer to capture every piece of Harry in her mind, before moving away to the landing.

She left the door ajar. Not sure to what extent that would do anything, should a Death Eater attempt to take revenge for their masters death, but still it have some small comfort, forcing herself not to cuddle him to her chest at every possible chance.

The stairs creaked in all the right places, the familiar spots she knew to step like clockwork, expect the last one. As the floor of the hall drew nearer, a dent still left in its wood, and she worked past the catch of breath in her throat.

Nobody looked at it. Not Sirius , not Remus , not her.

Nobody expect for James could stand to glance at it , to touch it even , a stark reminder and a ghostly echo left in her mind , forever ingrained in her nightmares the sound of his body falling limp like a rag doll against the floor.

A heavy thump , and his footsteps , a heavy thump , and Harry had cried a little harder , a heavy thump , and it wasn't meant to be like that.

He was there, as she stepped over the bottom step and the floorboards croaked their groan through the air , the soft light of the dining room peered her way , a single lamp switched on and his figure slumped in a chair , his figure very much alive.

Lily released a breath she didn't know she was holding , and started towards him. Their small home hadn't seemed so small; not a month ago when Harry was flying his broom , not a year ago when he was gurgling from her arms for the first time , not before then when their bodies were crammed to the sofa and swinging bottles of butterbeer.

Not when Marlene and Dorcas were alive to hold him too.

Not when Dumbledore spoke of the prophecy and there was no more butterbeer, no more friends , no more freedom.

But not the walls loomed in a way they had not before , with the shadows and creaks , their home haunted by memories.

"James."

He looked up slowly from where his gaze rested on the article in his hands , as if peeling then away from the most important document ever to exist and in a way , for him , she knew it was.

Lily didn't need to see the heading printed in thick black ink to know what it said. It's what they all said.

POTTERS ALIVE BY SOME MIRACLE , FAMILY BETRAYED BY PETER PETTIGREW !

They hadn't believed it , James hadn't believed it , not at first , not until he confessed in the confines of Dumbledore's office and she wondered if they'd ever learn why.

"Sorry," he murmured, voice thick with sleep but so gratingly awake , and face lined with bags of stress pitched beneath his eyes. "Sorry I .. I couldn't sleep."

"I know." She replied softly , her hands finding their way to his shoulders , fingers pressing into the old t-shirt he'd thrown on to feel the heat beneath his skin.

"I don't get it." He sighed tiredly , a hand scrubbed down his face , staring with an almost unreadable expression at the paper in the lamp light.

Almost , almost unreadable. But she could see it, the pain that clung to the flicker of his eyelashes and the sadness in the bob of his Adam's apple. Hazel flecks left bloodshot, by a sleepless night or by tears, she would guess both.

Lily waited silently, rubbing gently at his shoulders, reassuring herself more than him that he were indeed there, indeed alive.

"He wasn't tortured, he wasn't hurt, he wasn't anything except sorry-"

His throat cut off and his lips pressed in a firm line, and Lily let out a soft exhale, pressing a kiss to his head, dark hair smooth against her face.

"That has to count for something though, that he was at the very least, sorry."

She whispered, not sure why she was even attempting to defend him, the man who almost got them killed, almost got their baby killed.

James shook his head slowly.

"It's more than that though," he croaked, a hand pinching the bridge of his nose tiredly, his mind working in overdrive. She could almost hear the heavy clogs turning in his brain, jammed at one end , so confused.

"There has to be more to it than just being scared - hell I was scared, I was terrified !"

His voice was rising , breaking the quaint sounds beginning to emerge from the outside world and the gentle quiet of the house.

"James," Lily murmured, her eyes prickling as he half rose out of his seat, wide eyes finding hers, glazed with something so irreversibly haunted. The same look she saw in the mirror.

"I was so fucking terrified , you were so terrified , why does being scared make it okay ?? I had to face Voldemort head on-!"

His voice cracked and fell , dripping off with only sadness following in its wake. The climbing sensation of hysteria dissipated and he slumped forwards breathing heavily, pressing his face into his hands once more.

"I just," he took a shaking breath as she slid down beside him , the hard chair cold beneath her legs.

"I just keep thinking about it."

And Lily knew where he was going as his hazel eyes turned to her glistening, what he would say, his train of thought no different from her own.

"About what might've happened if-"

"If the curse hadn't of rebounded." Lily finished softly for him , her hand shaking as it pressed against his cheek, gently guiding his face back towards her as he twisted away with the drip of a tear.

"James look at me," and he did, without question or cause, and maybe for all of this she loved him a little bit more.

"I know, I do it too. And if I can't hear him at night I .."

"Panic." He muttered, and his own hand enclosed her other that lay on the table as their heads drew closer together.

"But we are here, we are alive and Voldemort didn't get us." She repeated the words she had said to herself everyday since the event , only now gentle and firm in the air did she start to believe herself.

"Voldermort didn't get us"

James breathed to himself , eyes finding the paper once more as another tear escaped from his eye. Their heads pressed together, her forehead against the side of his and his hand travelling up to stroke her hair, the deep red he had adored and would always adore.

"Everything else can wait," he whispered into the silence.

And it would, they had days to be remember how to live. For now , they just had to love.

#fanfic #jily fanfiction #james potter #james potter fanfiction #lily evans #lily evans potter #lily evans fanfiction #jily lives #jily fic #jily love #harrypotter #hp marauders #hp fandom #harry potter fanfiction #james and lily #marauders era angst #marauders era one shot #hp fic

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like-rain-or-confetti · 3 years

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If I Had Spent the Rest of My Days with You. (Sirius Black x Reader)

You found yourself in a room you knew all too well, even if it was empty. It was hard not to considering the whole Black family tree was on the wall. For his family, it stood proudly. For Sirius, it was an embarrassment.

"It's been a while since I've been back here." You turned sharply to see Sirius Black, his hands in his pockets with a warm smile. You felt a lump in your throat. "It's been even longer for me." You said quietly with a teary smile. You had been attached to Sirius Black since you were twelve and in love with him since you were fifteen. It nearly killed you all those years ago when he was sent to Azkaban and then again when he died a few years ago. Just after you had gotten him back. "You know why we're here right? You remember why it's so important?" You smiled at him. " "I remember it like it was yesterday." You said quietly. "Go on then, why here?" Sirius smirked. "Because this is where we had our first kiss." You replied, smiling fondly at the memory. "Before everything went to hell." You added. Sirius chuckled, moving closer. "That's true. I suppose we can be glad we had them at the very least. Those moments became some of my finest moments in my life. In fact, we stood here, right where we are standing now." "Your mother would have killed us if she found out. Not just that you had snuck me into your room but because I was actually muggle born." You reminded him. "That was all apart of the thrill. You knew my mother- what she was like. I did everything I could to rebel from that family before I ran away." You nodded somewhat solemnly at the treatment Sirius had under his mother's care. "I remember."

There was a moment of silence. "I miss you." You said to him. Sirius slowly nodded with a soft gaze. "I know, love." "I still get so angry when I think about it all. What Pettigrew did, you paid the price for it and after everything you-" You swallowed hard before continuing. "You deserved a happy ending, a full life and even that was taken from you." "I had you. I always knew that back in Azkaban. To know Harry got away, to know you were alright and Remus...I'd do it all again if it meant I could guarantee that same outcome." "It makes me sick that I thought you really gave up James and Lily-" "You need to forgive yourself, (Y/N). I forgave you the moment you did it." Sirius interrupted.

"Did you ever wonder what our life would have been like if none of this happened?" You asked. Sirius smiled. "I still think about it, love. Oh what a life we could have had." You smiled, a broken one that had grown with every passing year and the tragic losses that littered a year every now and then. Voldemort had caused a lot of grief. Your own grief being one of thousands. "I'd like to think it would have been wonderful."

After a moment of silence, you giggled softly. "You always came to my rescue back in school." "You always came to mine in the big bad world." Sirius hummed in amusement. "You would have many more times too, had things been different. I like to think you'd have dragged me through life being the poor lad I was." You giggled before a another moment of silence. "Tell me what it would have been like." You began. "Our life together. If things had been different." "We'd get a house. You'd insist we didn't move right next door to James and Lily Potter for the reason 'James is taking me from you'." You giggled at the memories of back in Hogwarts where you'd accuse James childishly about stealing Sirius from you. Sirius loved the attention. He continued. "I'd marry you in a heartbeat. Enjoying every bit of marrying the love of my life whilst making my family miserable. I'd wear the name 'blood-traitor' proudly just to spite them. After that we'd go to the Potter's every weekend. You'd grumble throughout until Harry came along. Then I couldn't get you to leave. I'd accuse Harry of stealing you from me." You couldn't help but laugh at the thought of Sirius confronting baby Harry. "Although I couldn't help but see you with Harry and think how you'd be with our own children. I'd want three at the most but I imagine convincing you to have a second would be a challenge." Sirius continued with a smile and you laughed again. "We would be whoever we wanted to be. Id make sure our children knew that their wasn't just magic in our world but in the human one too. I'd want them to know where you came from. Bottom line is, our life would be whatever the hell we wanted it to be. As long as I was with you. I couldn't be happier." You smiled sadly, through tears and nodding. "Me too." You said quietly. "I love you, Sirius Black. I always have." "I know. I love you just the same." Sirius responded. "I wish we could have lived that life together." You said with sadness in your heart, like missing a soul mate. "(Y/N), I want you to listen to me for this." Sirius began, noticing your hurt as he always had. "You carry a heavy heart, my dear. You've endured a lot of pain and loss. If you need to find love again to heal. You know I'd never hold it against you. I want you to live. I'd simply ask your next love for you back when your time has come." He smiled, of course he had to throw in a joke. You expected nothing less of him to lift the mood. "No other love could quite compare." You responded softly. "Don't hide away from those who love you. Welcome them and welcome new people into your life. Don't just simply exist...just live." Sirius locked eyes with you with a soft smile. "I'd like nothing more than to have spent the rest of my days with you...however long we had in that life." "I could be with you now." You began. "If I just..." You trailed off. If you gave up the fight for your life in that moment. You could be with Sirius forever. "We have all the time in the world for that. You're not done yet, my love. When you are, I will be waiting for you. However, you've got to be strong now and survive this. The war isn't over yet and Harry needs you just as much as he needs the others." Lightly, Sirius tapped your chest and suddenly there was a painful sensation. A distant bang in your ears. It was then you remembered what had happened to lead you there. You had taken a critical hit to the chest before tumbling to the ground.

"(Y/N)! (Y/N), come on!" You heard Remus call out to you with an echo. "(Y/N)!" "I'll see you soon love." Sirius smiled. "Wait! Sirius-!" With a flash of white light he, along with his room was gone.

You gasped coughing as Remus steadied your shoulders. "That's it, (Y/N)! That's it! Come on! We have to get out of here!" Remus pulled you to a stand before tugging you along. Pulling you into a sprint beside him.

#harry potter #reader #Sirius Black #oneshot #one shot

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snivellussnoop · 3 years

Text

The Memory Cabinet of an Alchemist

Ficlet based on Steven Wilson’s The Watchmaker. Find it here on Wattpad and here on AO3!

—

“The watchmaker works all day and long into the night; He pieces things together Despite his failing sight. Though all the cogs connect with such poetic grace, Time has left its curse upon this place.”

He feels as if he hasn’t slept in years.

His feelings are accurate; he hasn’t.

The shadow of insomnia smudges itself beneath his eyes like paint, his face reminding him much of a work of Van Gogh; layered, blotchy, pained, alone. He finds his own reflection confusing now. He passed the point of concern weeks ago.

He has to keep his mind off of the war. Off of Albus. Off of all related duties. He knows it’s coming. They all do.

So he stays up through nights on end, staring intensely at his own vials, mixing things with tiny adjustments falling out of a thin dropper, watching his liquids turn from white to purple to deep black, pretending that the future doesn’t exist. Although, in his case, that may be comfortingly true.

“Each hour becomes another empty space to fill, Wasted with the care And virtues of his skill. The watchmaker buries something deep within his thoughts: A shadow on the staircase Of someone from before…”

Every distraction is a god to him. He worships preoccupations with the commitment of a nun, every drop of liquid cooling his own thoughts like nitrogen as they fall from the dropper to the beaker, each drip slowing the pulsing blood in his ears. So quickly, so easily, he forgets.

He forgets that his time in this dungeon is slipping so quickly away from him. He forgets that he will soon be responsible, by request, for maiming one of his only friends. He forgets that his jobs and double lives will rapidly become more and more dangerous until the war ends or he dies; whichever comes first. He almost hopes it’s the latter.

But even deeper down, he forgets more.

He forces back the memories of his early school days, of being pushed around in the courtyards, of the name-calling and fight-starting and friend-losing. He pretends not to remember James. Lily. Sirius. Petunia. Even the echoes of his father’s rough voice and Peter Pettigrew’s cackling little laugh he shoves into the least reachable spot of the cabinet in the back of his head, closing the door and locking it three times on its abused and chipped frame.

But the better memories are ones he would like to forget, too. And those are harder. Because everything about them is gone, so all they bring is pain. However, the good memories are the only ones he’s ever liked; they’re the only things that, for a moment, have made his life worth living in the slightest. So it’s difficult to grab ahold of them, and they seem to so easily slip back out of the cabinet he shoves them into no matter how hard he attempts it.

He mixes a new concoction, his face tightening as it all floods back to him. As he tries to pick up his memories and put them away, they seem to slip between his fingers and fall right back into his conscious thought again, back and forth, until he has no choice but to face them for a little while.

He remembers. And it’s heaven. And it’s hell.

“I thought it might be nice to start over,” a voice reverberates in his ears, the softness dampening the noise of his own terrified heartbeat. “You know, to forget our rifts for a while. We’re coworkers now, after all.”

He remembers shaking a hand in agreement (and how soft and warm it was. So comfortingly safe), giving a harsh nod and leaving the room.

He remembers that voice. The stupid, horrendous, beautiful voice, bantering with him and bringing him coffee every morning at sunrise. He remembers it whispering softly in his ears, so close, so unbelievably caring; its hands caressing every square inch of him as if he were worth loving. He felt so cared for back then. He cared back. He hates that he cared back.

“Meet me in my office tonight,” it would say on multiple occasions, “unless you prefer I meet you in yours.”

“I may just... happen to be in the area,” he would say back, word for word, every single time.

“Just... be casual about it. Please.”

“Naturally.”

“No one can know.”

A pause. “That’s quite apparent, is it not?”

Another pause. And a smile.

“Get back to your class, then.”

He remembers the affection, the closeness, the warmth as they would hold one another as close as they possibly could. He remembers having to strengthen his skills in Occlumency to keep such love hidden from Voldemort himself. He remembers his life slowly altering until it revolved completely around Remus Lupin, as if he was some sort of star. And maybe he was. He was the one light there seemed to be, and that certainly counted.

And he remembers the news. The “I’m-scared-of-coming-out-in-such-a-climate-and-in-order-to-stay-hidden-I-think-I-am-going-to-spend-my-life-with-a-woman” news. His last night in the Dark Arts office. The long conversation, hours and hours of offers and ideas that all had some way of being proven faulty.

“She’s kind. She’s my friend. I don’t mind her.”

“You don’t feel for her.”

“I don’t have to.”

Loyalty was Lupin’s biggest fault, and Snape scolded it endlessly after it was taken from him and given to Nymphadora Tonks. Because, even though Remus did not love her in the way that was ideal, he could not cheat. He cared too much to do such things. Damn him for caring. Damn his wonderful, perfect heart.

“This thing is broken now And cannot be repaired. Fifty years of compromise And aging bodies shared. Dear, you know there's something I should say—”

The remembering stops, everything about the shaggy werewolf going silent, the images of his smiling features going dark. Severus blinks his eyes to realize that they are red and watery, irritated by the potion fumes, no doubt, but also irritated by the loss.

He sniffs, sitting back in his chair and sighing up at the ceiling. With the war approaching, the break was for the best, although the wound still hurts like hell. Satan himself seems to have kissed it, his teeth sinking deeper and deeper into Snape’s thin and timid blood, the fangs becoming part of it, the hurting becoming irreversible.

He wonders if Remus is lying awake as well. He wonders if he ever misses him. He wonders if he ever cries.

He decides to write to him. He doesn’t know why; it happens without his own processing nor consent. His hands and quill are on the paper before he even notices that they’ve moved. He ignores his own convulsions of emotional turmoil as he scrawls out a message, the ink seeping into the parchment quicker than death itself, his silent sobs muffled by the scratching of the metal nib on the rough surface of the letter. He provides no return address and no name; he figures it’s unnecessary. Lupin will know. He’ll recognize the handwriting. He used to gush over it so.

He stamps it with a deep blue wax and sends it away, the words carved permanently in as it’s carried to the mailbox towns away with the engraving Lupin and Tonks lettered on the outside. The message sits. Snape goes back to his alchemy. The words await. It remains:

“I never really loved you, But I'll miss you anyway.”

#snupin #snupin fic #snupin ficlet #snupin oneshot #snupin fanfic #pro snape #snape x lupin #snapexlupin #hpathbp era #my writing

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halothenthehorns · 3 years

Text

All in the Family

Chapter 12: Quidditch

The office was so bare, that at first they thought they'd landed in an abandoned one. Yet the desk was filled with papers for markings, the curtains were well worn as if someone regularly pulled them back to view the Quidditch stadium beyond, and the chair was not the one from their time, but slightly modified into a more comfortable recliner. Still, there were no personal touches, and even those teachers who had no plans to stay longer than a year carried photos, or remnants of every human practice to somehow mark their space. No splash of color dominated, even the bedroom adjacent to the office held only standard bed sheets.

"We must be in Quirrell's office," Sirius decided. The feeling would never grow comfortable, but he was at least used to by now of shaking off the dizzying feeling of being somewhere he wasn't a second before so that he could step up to the desk and start rifling through drawers which were as bare as the walls, only filled with extra quills and ink.

"Bloke needs a personal decorator," Peter muttered, he'd never seen anything so bare bones, and he'd been to a DA teacher's office every year to know this wasn't common.

"What do you think happened here?" Frank asked as he stepped up to a corner of the room. There was an empty shelf that could have held any number of things from books to nicknacks, but it was as dusty as everything else. However, there was a small burn mark in the wall, with just the tips of a few feathers showing on the edge indicating it might once have been a bird implanted there, but now it was just a smoky, twisted shape like he'd tried to blast it off the wall instead.

Lupin stepped up beside him with a perplexed look as well, scratching his nail against this curiously. "I think it used to be an eagle," tracing his finger now across the lone visible feather, "maybe he used to be in Ravenclaw house?"

"Then why would he blast it off?" Franks brows only rose higher with such an odd form of an answer.

There was no explanation for this peculiar place, but that was the pattern of this whole journey so far. So Remus stepped up next to Sirius and plopped down in the seat, scooping up the book where it had landed first and reclining leisurely as he began the next part. He cheered with joy the moment he read the chapter title, and Sirius sat on the arm of the chair at once to lean in and see why. Remus automatically pushed his face away, but by the time he read it out to the others Sirius was already whooping with his own joy they were going to be reading about Harry's first Quidditch game, finally!

James was beside himself with joy at once, clutching Peter to him in ecstatic excitement before they even got to details, they were all aware of who the match was going to be against. Peter was being just as bad, squealing and wriggling around just as much, watching James carefully to make sure he'd stay upright even when he was released to start all but bouncing off the walls.

Alice watched them and couldn't help but laugh at the show, remembering the two times she'd actually sat near them in the stands during their younger years and knowing they could possibly get worse, so choosing to follow as Frank went into the adjacent room to find some lower level of noise.

Regulus just stood awkwardly at opposite ends of the room from Evans, admittedly more ecstatic for this but honestly still unsure of how much he should bother trying to interact with Sirius. His parents had been making it increasingly clear during his holiday visits Sirius may not even be around much longer if he didn't change up his act this summer, and no matter what crazy world they were flying through now, he should still honor his parents wishes and keep himself separate from the stain of his older brother. Just because his friends still managed to amuse him, and honestly he still couldn't help but look to what Sirius did and react the same way, didn't mean he was actually expected to hang around him.

Lily declined following Frank and Alice for once, but that just left her more uncomfortable than ever in this room full of boys who she couldn't claim to see eye to eye with about anything. They held no interest as Lupin went through the whole chapter leading up to the game, wasn't going to bother with any defense for what Sev did even if that was a rule he made up on the spot. The way they were reacting was even how she would have predicted, still making crude jokes at each other and reminiscing about all they'd done to Snape and wishing they could do more now while he continued to bully Harry.

Not that she even knew for a fact that's what this was. She more than anyone could understand why Sev was singling Harry out, not that she in any way approved of why he was for such petty revenge, but she wouldn't deny she could see in his eyes lashing out at someone who so reminded him of Potter just as much as her. She wished he'd be more of an adult about it, but there was just no point saying any of this to anyone present, it's not as if they'd understand.

Her fury at the situation only grew when Harry went on to accuse Severus of being after whatever that deranged dog was guarding. Honestly, one incident of an injury, an overheard conversation, and the kid just automatically blamed it on the person he didn't like. It was a miracle he wasn't adding Malfoy into the mix as an accomplice already, as if life didn't happen outside of teachers who yelled at him.

The build up to the game held no interest to her, it only set her teeth grinding back on edge and all she could do now was be grateful he didn't use any build up to blow off steam like the Potter in this room would. In fact she honesty couldn't admit to even listening to what happened up until the moment Harry mentioned his broom lurching beneath him. Something inside of her lurched as well.

She certainly didn't like Potter, but she'd never actually wished him irreparable harm, let alone death! That's what was going to happen when Harry fell though, so she looked on at Lupin stuttering through words in a panic, actually understood the look of fear on all of his friends, and met Potter's eyes with a dry mouth that honestly could have released a scream of fear any second.

"Evans!" James startled them all out of the vivid mental nightmare as he went to her side. She fell against the wall the moment that little Hermione girl claimed to have seen what was really going on, but remained just out of arm's reach of Potter when her focus snapped back to him still on a glare.

"It wasn't him," her voice crackled with force that would surely have stopped that bucking broom in place, it wasn't a wonder why James froze. "Severus isn't the one doing this."

Far from looking as if to check on her, the muscle going in his jaw made it clear he was holding himself back from doing something more than shouting now when his hand twitched for his wand. "Are you really so daft women? You can't look past, for one bleeding second of protecting and defending him against everything! What possible explanation do you have for this one?!"

"Why don't you try opening your mind for once Potter!" She snarled right back, off the wall in the same breath and glaring daggers at him, her hand in the same position. "Pull your fat head out of your arse and think! Or is that too difficult, with all the empty space up there?"

"Glory those two are the most self centered birks I've ever met," Frank muttered, staying happily on the other side of the door to mutter this to Alice. "Can't they have this row for the millionth time after they find out if the kid survived. I swear this went down last week about who it was causing the toilets to snap shut on people."

"Wasn't it Avery caught doing that yesterday?" Alice asked in surprise.

"Exactly," Frank finished with a snort.

"How long do you think they can keep going when neither really has the ability to walk away?" Alice asked in honest concern when the two just kept exchanging insults.

"You mean when Evans can't storm off," Frank corrected. "Ever seen Potter? I think he lives for this."

Alice huffed in disgust if this was really how he thought was the best way to keep her attention, and honestly just grew sick of it herself finally. She went back through the door, Frank following reluctantly, and right over to Lupin. Black was sitting on the arm of the chair and watching along with Pettigrew like a show, but the last Marauder was pretending nothing was even happening as he kept his eyes down on the passage, though clearly reading nothing as no words had been uttered since they'd started.

"You lot just planning on staying in here forever?" She demanded.

"That's an interesting question," Black looked to her and said conversationally. "Wonder if time's frozen forever, we'll never get old, never get hungry again, actually wait, that could get really boring."

"Whatever point you take from this," she said in exasperation.

He nodded and nudged Moony, muttering, "best go on then, you've studied in the common room with louder things going on."

Remus hesitated an extra moment before indeed choosing to ignore the pair and continuing. It certainly made the Marauders who were paying attention a new level of interest none had ever seen, setting a teacher on fire and all. That was something they'd never dare to do, and Hermione just became their new idol for that act alone, the reason that she was doing it just made her as solid a friend as Ron only made it all the better.

It was honestly sad to the three of them James took no glory in this, didn't even seem to mention it as he was still busy over there where apparently only he and Evans existed. He even missed Harry spitting up the Snitch in victory, and in fact only came back to realizing what was going on when Evans snapped her head in their direction upon Hagrid defending Snape.

"Finally, a sensible human being," she seethed, snapping away from him and storming into the room for any way to escape while still listening attentively now. Hagrid just became her new favorite person in this castle for finally seeing past singling out a person for this happening, something that childish idiot could never understand.

"Wait, what happened to Harry? Who won the game?" James asked with a ruffled brow, his eyes still on the door and for all the world still unaware when Peter answered he'd fill him in on the details.

"Fluffy?" Frank said into the awkward silence. "I can not for the life of me picture a three headed dog, fluffy."

"Thought you had more imagination than that love," Alice honestly giggled at her boyfriend's perplexed look.

"I'll take that scrap of information if the dog has pink fur on top of it all," Lupin said with honest interest, his eyes now alight as he kept going at finally getting more information no matter how unintentional Hagrid gave it.

"Why do I know that name, Flamel," Regulus muttered to himself, though he alone felt invested in this mystery. Everyone else still seemed far more involved with Harry, even Evans no matter how much she denied it. She certainly hadn't, in all her shouting, come up with any alternatives to who could be trying to kill the young Potter, unlike him, who was still chewing over all the information given as Lupin finished.

#Marauders #Harry Potter #fanfiction #Peter Pettigrew #Wolfstar #James Potter #Remus Lupin #Sirius Black #Lily Evans #Regulus Black #Frank Longbottom #Alice Smith #reading the books

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ashthewaterghoul · 3 years

Text

Take Me Back – A Wolfstar One Shot

TW - mention of abuse, implied suicidal thoughts, implied depression.

You look just the same as I always remember.

Ever since the last time Sirius Black said farewell to Remus Lupin, he had fantasised about the day they would finally be reunited. Well thirteen year later and that day was finally here. Sirius was once again facing Remus, his scars travelling over his face in a familiar curvature, golden brown hair flopping over his face, his eyes still an intoxicating shade of amber.

All those Friday nights, Under the lights, under the bleachers together.

In their search for hidden passageways and cupboards in school, the two lads found a gap in the quidditch stands that had a perfect view of the night sky. They told no-one, and would often sneak off together on their sleepless nights.

You and I were meant to be something more than a faded memory, ‘till you and I, something divided us.

Anybody with eyes could see they were perfect for each other, they could’ve done so much together. But, Sirius got framed for mass-murder, and they were forced to part without so much as a goodbye. That was 13 years ago.

If the universe is infinite, then it's definite, there's an alternative reality where we're now a family.

During his imprisonment, Sirius wondered if there was a version of events where he was happy with Remus. They always wanted a family together, but clearly their happiness wasn’t allowed to exist.

Take me back in time to love you, take me back when we were lost, lost in love and lost in feeling without the cost.

Sirius wondered if the wonders of the magical world could include time travel, then he go back and fix everything he did that separated him from his beloved.

Take me back in time to high school, take me back when things were light, light my heart and light my shadow, and make it alright.

Hogwarts was easily the highlight of his life, he had James, Lily, Marlene, Mary, Dorcas, Alice, Frank, and even Minnie. There was no war, he had months on end away from his parents. And he had him.

Cause I already lost it once what I already won.

Sirius’ abuse left him with terrible nightmares, and those nightmares gave him terrible thoughts. Him getting to spend time with Remus was his reward for not succumbing.

You don't look the same at all as I remember. The light has left your eyes, something has changed, then you were way more put together.

When Remus first laid eyes on Sirius, after thirteen long, painful years, he knew it was him, but it didn’t look like him. His hair was no longer the shoulder-length silky curtain, it was an matted, scraggly mess. His once warm, sculpted face was now gaunt and hollow. His flesh and muscle was hanging, loosely on his bones, it looked paper thin, no where near as soft as it was when they were young.

But I remember something someone asked me back in school. [Pads], if you asked me, I'd still go to prom with you.

Remus knew his Sirius was in there, he would give anything to get him back, not that he really had much to give. The happiest night of their lives was the seventh year leavers ball. That night they vowed to be with each other until the grave, they even planned to get tattoos of each other’s paw prints. Remus only built up the courage for it once it was too late.

The universe is infinite, and its definite, there's an alternative reality, where its only you and me.

Every full moon, when Remus was at his worst, in every way, he wished for another life, where he could be happy with Sirius. Together, they could’ve taken on the world. Remus wondered if he could ever be happy, and hoped that if he ever could, Sirius would be at his side.

Take me back in time to love you, hold me closer than before, heal my heart and mend what's broken, to feel you once more.

Remus wished to be in fifth year again, when he and Sirius started dating. Before each full moon, Remus didn’t know whether or not he could take it again, but Sirius was always there for him, he always knew just what say, the exact amount Remus needed to be squeezed when he was holding him. Remus had lost faith in nearly everything, until he found out the traitor Pettigrew was alive. He had faith in his love, that he was innocent, that he wasn’t corrupt and evil like he’d foolishly thought for too long.

Take me back to high school, take me back when things were light, light my heart and light my shadow, for one more night.

Remus had felt as if love was merely a trick of the mind, you thought it existed but it was just your imagination, his body playing one cruel trick after another on him. He felt as if everything was dark. Nothing could light the endless abyss that was Remus Lupin’s life. That was until he saw Sirius again. His shining star was there again to light the void.

I've lost too much now to care, but I know that something's still there.

They’d both lost nearly everything. They thought all hope was gone until they were back in front of each other. When they embraced each other, they felt like school boys again. They hadn’t ever had a sense of déjà vu like that. Ever.

I'll never let you go. I'll never let you go. I'll never let you go now.

The first time they were alone together after too much time apart, they said the same vow as they did that night in seventh year. The tattoos would just have to wait.

Just take be back, gotta take me back. Just take me back, gotta take me back…

Throughout their relationship while in Hogwarts, James, Lily, Marlene and Dorcas were the people constantly pushing them together. Sirius decided to find Remus, a week after he went into hiding, he didn’t want to go however long it would be without a proper goodbye. Not again. When they could finally spend five minutes alone, they felt as if their friends, no, family was pushing them together again.

In time to love you. Hold me closer than before, heal my heart and mend what's broken to feel you once more.

The first kiss in 13 years felt like the first time all over again. Merlin, how Remus had missed Sirius gently tracing his facial scars with his thumb, and Sirius had missed Remus gently tucking his hair behind his ear.

Light my heart and light my shadow to make it alright. Alright!

The few moments they shared before Sirius had to flee, were some of the best moments they’d ever shared. There was so much to tell, so much to do, but it would have to wait. As Remus watched his once again boyfriend fly into the night-sky. He was not sad, he had a feeling they would get to get to catch up soon enough. Sirius shared the same emotion. They felt connected in an way only explainable by one of the oldest, most powerful, most potent forms of magic. Love.

Hello there! As you may have guessed this was to a song again. The song is ‘Take Me Back’ from a musical called ‘Black Friday’. The song reminds me of a post-poa Wolfstar, Sirius as Tom (the male part) and Remus as Becky (the female part). Hope you enjoyed it, any feedback would be greatly appreciated as well as other ideas for future fics. ❤️

Here’s the link to the song: https://youtu.be/MCZnMDZrgvQ

You can view all my one shots here

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lilulo-12fanfiction · 4 years

Text

Rain Song- Chapter 1

So here is Chapter 1! This is super long. Almost 10K words. I’m not even sorry. lol I did want to get through this as it is mostly background information on who Hope is.

I’m taking liberties here. So if something isn’t factually correct...it is what it is. Since this is an OC story cannon will variate.

I hope you enjoy this chapter! If you would like to be tagged, please let me know! I also write for TVD, Supernatural & The Avengers. You can view each masterlist list at the top of my page.

Also- does anyone do character art/ digital portraits? I’d love for someone to put one together of Hope for me.

Series Masterlist

12 Years Later

Hope slowly stretched her arms out in front of her. She felt the release of the tension she hadn’t realized she had been holding onto. She pulled the earphones off of her head and cracked her neck. She felt a slight smile come to her face. Her Uncle Remus couldn’t understand her obsession with Muggle music. Yet whenever she spoke of the genius that was Freddy Mercury or her obsession with The Beatles he got a far away look in his eyes. There were things from his past that he outright refused to discuss. She stopped pushing for answers a long time ago. She couldn’t bear to cause him any pain. All she knew was that on Halloween when she was just shy of 2 years old her mother sacrificed her life to save Hope’s as her Uncle carried her to safety. Her father, was in Azkaban for life after he sided with Voldemort. Her Uncle was one of the rare few who would speak Voldemort's name. Her Uncle wouldn’t let her fear his name. She had seen to many shudder at the mere thought of the Dark Wizard. Remus wanted her to be strong. With Remus' strength and bravery, also came a sense of fear. She knew he was afraid his former supporters would someday come after her, so they stayed hidden away on their beach cottage. He tutored her in her magical studies when she became old enough. She loved her Uncle beyond measure and he was a brilliant teacher; but Hope craved more. She longed to have peers that understood her. Sure, she had made friends with the Muggle Children that came to the beach for holidays and the few that lived near year 'round, but it wasn’t the same. The only contact she had with other magical children were The Weasley family. She saw them on the rare occasion that Andromeda couldn’t stay with her when her Uncle’s condition kept him from her. Her cousin Nymphadora was much older than she, and while she adored her, she still couldn't relate. All Hope wanted was a couple of really good friends.

Hope had been sitting on the beach sketching for hours. What she was drawing, she wasn’t quite sure yet. That was how she controlled the visions that plagued her, she put them down on paper. Drawing and painting calmed her mind. The music pounding into her ears quieted the other noises. Lately, her visions had quite literally taken a dark turn. She had a persistent dull headache that would sometimes push her into a migraine for the day. Everything was black. That’s all she could draw was black. Black shapes, black lines and sometimes she filled the page with shadings of black. She could see the concern in her Uncle's eyes when he would peek at her drawings, but he said nothing. She hadn’t quite figured out how to piece her visions together yet, everything was still very jumbled. Often times they would make sense after the event occured, she was hoping to use those experiences to learn how to read them. She was still young. Remus was impressed with how far she had come on her own. He had tried to find someone to help her, but hadn't had any luck. From what he had told Hope, the Divinations teacher at Hogwarts would not be able to assist her. The one thing she had learned to control was pulling images from others. She figured out how to touch others without being overwhelmed with their thoughts. On a rare occasion where she wasn’t prepared did it happen. It always overwhelmed her and she hated invading anyone else’s privacy. Remus had shown her memories of her mother that way, when he couldn’t find the correct words. His memories were muted though. There was something he was trying to shield her from.

Hope leaned back and closed her eyes, letting the sun radiate light into the darkness that was swirling inside. Today was her favorite kind of day. The sun was hot and the water was clear. The breeze was blowing to keep her cool. Her wild blonde curls were piled on top of her head, the wind causing wisps to come free and blow around her face. She wanted every day to be like this, warmness and Led Zepplin pulsing through her veins. Yet the persistent pinch in her forehead was making it impossible to completely enjoy the day. Hope looked down at her watch and cursed. She had been gone an hour longer than she had anticipated. She quickly threw her sketch book, pencils and her disc man into her bag. She brushed the sand off her denim cut offs as she stood and threw her t-shirt back on over her bathing suit. Quickly she donned her flip flops and made the half mile walk back to the beach cottage she resided in with her beloved Uncle.

As she approached the house, something felt different. There was a tense energy in the air that caused a chill to go down her spine. She just wanted a day where she didn’t feel anxiety or cold. She wanted one day where the needling in her brain gave her peace. It had been far too long since she had a day like that. Something in her world was changing, she could feel it. She feared it was something that would color her whole world black, not just the pictures she had stashed in her bag. She saw a figure standing in the kitchen with her Uncle. By the way he was standing, she could see tension spilling from his every muscle. She quietly snuck in to try and overhear what they were saying.

“Remus it’s time. You can no longer keep her sequestered away. While I'm sure you are teaching her everything she needs to know, she needs to be around children her own age. She has lived almost as much of a muggle existence as young Harry. She will be safer at Hogwarts. Every manner of protection will be used for the school.” The voice was kind, grandfatherly almost. Hope’s ears perked up at the mention of Hogwarts. How she had longed to attend. To learn magic, make real friends, create an extended family beyond her and Remus. Hope was so lonely. Her thoughts of loneliness always made her feel an overwhelming sense of guilt. Her uncle had given up his entire young life for her, he should be enough for her. It made her feel incredibly selfish.

“Albus- there are still things she does not know. Things I can’t even begin to tell her-“ Dumbledore held his hand up to stop Remus from continuing.

“Hello Hope.” The gentle voice called out her name and she froze. She had barely stepped two feet into the house and she had been discovered, so much for sneaking in and eavesdropping. She set her bag down and slowly stepped into the kitchen. Her Uncle seemed more agitated than she had ever seen him. Uncle Remus almost never got angry or irritated, he always had an abundance of patience for her.

Her attention was quickly drawn to the tall man who had called her name. He had long silver hair and silver beard. His crooked nose reminded her of Billy Berkshire’s after she had punched him in the face for teasing another girl she had befriended one summer. Resting on his nose were half moon spectacles that allowed a clear view of his kind blue eyes. He donned the most magnificent purple robes she had ever seen. He was oddly wonderful. She just hoped none of the neighborhood kids saw him, she’d have some explaining to do. She knew the man before her was Albus Dumbledore, she never expected he would ever be standing in her kitchen.

“Hello.” Hope’s voice was filled with trepidation. Why would she need to be protected? She knew her Uncle was keeping secrets, but to hear him admit it to someone else was jarring.

“Come darling, sit.” She nodded and made her way to the table. Dumbledore also took a seat.

“I’m sorry for being late. I lost track of time.” Dumbledore was staring at her with an odd expression.

“It’s quite alright. Hope, this is-“

“Albus Dumbledore.” She finished the sentence before he could. She felt ill at ease as the blue eyes studied her. She wasn’t used to being studied quite so intently.

“Well I see my reputation has proceeded me. I hope your Uncle shared only the good things.” He gave her a kind smile that calmed her nerves. “I apologize for staring. It just, you are so very much like your mother. I wasn’t expecting it.” It was something Hope heard often. She would catch her Uncle staring at her, a sad look on his face, but only when he thought she wasn’t paying attention. Andromeda had said many times how much Hope resembled her mother. As far as Hope could tell, the only thing she got from her father were her eyes.

“Why am I in danger?” Hope wasn’t interested in beating around the bush. She watched as her Uncle rolled his jaw.

“Your father has escaped from Azkaban.” Remus finally spoke. Hope felt like she had been slapped. Her father- the man she had wondered about for her whole life. The man her uncle could barely spoke of. She had only seen a few pictures, but his handsome and wild features were forever etched into her brain. All Hope knew was that Sirius Black had been best friends with her Uncle, James Potter and Peter Pettigrew. He fell in love with her mother while she was in her 4th year and Sirius was in his 6th at Hogwarts. They married shortly after Nora’s graduation. Remus had always stressed how much her father had loved her and loved her mother. It had been discovered that he was a Death Eater and after Voldemort’s fall he was sentenced to Azkaban. Remus would provide no other details, regardless of how hard she pressed. The idea of meeting her father was exhilarating. Only he could provide the answers she most craved. Yet she was terrified of him. What if he came to their home and hurt Remus to get to her. She had read all about the Dementors of Azkaban. She knew what they did to their inhabitants. Her father had spent 12 years there.

“That’s why you’ve been so tense this past week. Why I haven’t seen a single page of The Daily Prophet. Remus nodded.

“I didn’t know how to tell you.” He admitted. He reached behind him and pulled a news paper out of one of the cupboards and handed it to her. The man on the front page was not the man she had seen pictures of. He was gaunt and had a waxy appearance to his skin. His once beautifully groomed hair was long and matted. She felt her eyes well up. She should be horrified, but yet she felt her heart break. How could she feel that for a man that caused so much terror?

“We are afraid he will come looking for you. We don’t know what kind of state he is in. But 12 years in Azkaban would have made an impact on his mental state.” Dumbledore was trying to be as sensitive as possible. “We think it’s time for you to join your classmates at Hogwarts. You would be under intense protection and would have the best magical education. Not to say that you haven’t done a splendid job, Remus.”

“We?” Hope looked to her Uncle. It didn’t matter how badly she wanted to go, she would never leave without his blessing. Remus ran his hand down his face. He took Hope’s hand in his as he had done many times, knowing it would ground her.

“Yes. We. Professor Dumbledore is right, as always. Hogwarts can offer you protection that I cannot. And it’s time for you to be around witches and wizards of your own age. I should have sent you two years ago. It was my own fear that stopped me.” Hope felt a jolt of excitement. That gave Remus peace of mind. Yet as quickly as he saw her stormy eyes light up, it died just as quickly.

“But yo- you’ll be alone. And if he comes here, will you be safe? What, what would happen to me if something happened to you?” Remus could see the panic setting in.

“As it so happens-“ Dumbledore interjected “It seems I am in need of a Defense Against The Arts teacher yet again. I was hoping Remus that you would consent to returning to Hogwarts with Hope.” Dumbledore watched Hope’s body relax as she looked expectantly at her Uncle.

“Albus, are you sure? My condition-“

“Is managed by your Wolfsbane potion. You’ve managed to raise an exceptional young lady. I assume you can handle teaching a few classes.” There was no way Remus could say no, not with how his niece was staring at him expectantly.

“If you’re sure Albus, I would be delighted.”

“Now, Hope, Hogwarts doesn’t normally have a student start midway through their education. Your peers have much more knowledge on the school than you will. I think it will be best to have you come a few weeks prior to the other students. I would like to get you sorted into your house and settled before they return.”

“But that’s around the time of the full moon, Uncle Remus won’t be able to bring me.”

“Hope- you will have to go without me and I will meet you there in September 1st.”

“Professor McGonagall will be there to get you acquainted with the school.” Hope sat for a moment with her thoughts. She didn’t like the idea of being away from her Uncle for that long, but this had been what she always wanted.

“Okay.” She agreed.

“Splendid. Remus, I trust you can get Hope to Diagon Alley for her books and supplies. I will send an owl with her list.” Hope had so many questions for Dumbledore but didn’t know where to even start. He was already standing and she couldn’t get her thoughts together. “I will see you both very soon.” Then, with a crack, Albus Dumbledore was gone.

“Go get washed up darling. I’ll start dinner.” Her uncle stood to go and prepare them something to eat. She knew the question portion of the evening had ended. She would get no further information from him that night.

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A week and a half later Hope was pacing her room. She had 3 days before she was to arrive at Hogwarts. She had gotten no further information from her Uncle. They had just gotten home from having dinner with what Hope thought was her only other family. Except Nymphadora had come home for dinner to see Hope. It had been a long time since she had seen her. Her Auror training kept her quite busy.

“Hopefully that little prat Malfoy doesn’t give you a hard time. I hate admitting that he’s our cousin.” After she said it, Hope knew she realized she let something slip.

“I’m sure everything will be fine!” Ted had exclaimed.

“Hope you will love Hogwarts. It is beautiful.” Hope glanced at her Uncle out of the corner of her eye and he was carefully avoiding her gaze. She picked at her food as the four of them talked fondly of Hogwarts. Hope stewed in her own anger instead.

Hope felt rage building within her. She wasn’t a baby anymore. She’d be 14 soon. Granted she wasn’t an adult, she could handle a lot more than Remus had given her credit for. He had led her to believe that himself and The Tonks were her only remaining family. That was clearly a lie. He had been careful to not provide any information on the rest of her Father’s family.

Remus knew what was coming. The other trait Hope inherited from Sirius was her temper. While she held it together much better than Sirius ever did, when she hit her breaking point, she was explosive. She was like a hurricane and he was approaching the eye of the storm. Remus had never been on the receiving end of her anger. He knew tonight would be the night. He knew he would have to give her answers. He could not believe he didn’t consider Draco Malfoy knowing of his relation to Hope.

But what could he tell her to ease her mind? What could he tell her to make her feel better. Any information he had to give her on her father and he wretched family would only hurt her. He knew that hurt all to well. All he wanted to do was shield her from the pain that he knew Sirius had carried with him. He was being idealistic. Wasn’t it better that it came from him and not someone else?

He winced as her bedroom door slammed. He took a deep breath and approached her room. A teenage Hope was something he was ill prepared for. The older she got, the more she became her mother which included Nora’s deep sarcasm and sass, that coupled with anger would mean a most unpleasant experience.

“Hope- please open the door.” Remus sighed leaning against the wall. “You do realize I can just use my wand to open in.” He could picture her face as she considered his words and he braved himself. As anticipated her door whipped open. “We need to talk.” She gave him a withering look.

“Now you want to talk? You’ve had 12 years to talk.”

“Hope-“

“No! Don't 'Hope' Me! I have family! I have a cousin my own age! AND YOU KEPT ME FROM THEM! FOR 12 years all you have done is LIE to me!” Remus had expected anger, but the bitterness that was pouring from her took him by surprise. He heard it so often from Sirius. He felt right then that he had failed Hope. He wanted to save her from this. “I have no friends that actually know me. They think I’m a little weird and that I’m sick because I have these headaches all of the time. They don’t understand me because they’re muggles! I’m alone.” Her last two words were spoken as a sob. Remus realizes the magnitude of his mistake. He felt like an outcast for most of his life. His condition made it hard to really connect with anyone. Everyone thought he was just ill. It wasn’t until James, Sirius and Peter that he felt truly accepted. He at least had his sister before that. Hope had no siblings. Remus pulled his niece into an embrace and she struggled against him for a moment. She finally gave in and let him hold her as she cried. Once she settled down he led her to their living room to sit on the couch.

“Hope, I am so sorry. I didn’t mean to isolate you. I didn’t even realize how alone you felt. All I have wanted, all I have ever wanted is to keep you safe. But, I kept you away from your living relatives because it was what your mother wanted.” Hope looked up at her Uncle in utter confusion. Her tear filled face almost broke him. Her silence urged him to continue. “Your father comes from a long line of Pureblood Wizards. The entire Black family are blood purists. Your father and Andromeda were the only ones to push against that. In fact, your father being sorted into Gryffindor was a huge scandal. He ended up being disowned and moved in with James. His parents welcomed him like he was their own. That is why your middle name is Euphemia. It was James’ mother’s name. Sirius’ mother loathed YOUR mother for being a half-blood. When Nora died, the Black family tried to take you from me. Your mother wanted you no where near their hateful rhetoric. They also had no leg to stand on in getting custody of you. So I kept you away from the magical community as much as I could so they couldn’t try to get their hands on you. I just didn’t realize how damaging it was to you. The majority of that family were Death Eaters. They were responsible for your mother’s death. As for Draco Malfoy being your cousin, his mother Narcissa is Andromeda’s sister. Her husband, Lucius Malfoy was among the top of the Death Eater food chain. He also escaped Azkaban by claiming he was under the imperius curse. He continues to believe in blood purity and has unfortunately ingrained that ideal into his son. Hope, I promise you that if anyone other than Andromeda had been a good person I wouldn’t have kept you away.”

“If my father was so against everything that his family stood for, how is it that he ended up being a Death Eater? Did HE kill my mother? What did Voldemort want with her?” Remus could see you spiraling. He took a deep breath and continued.

“Darling I honestly don’t know why your father sis what he did. I do know he loved you and my sister very much. I’m not sure what caused him to switch sides. I can tell you that I am sure he is not the one that hurt your mother. That is unimaginable to me. He started pulling away from me before that. Your mother trusted him implicitly. I wish I had more information for you Hope. As for why Voldemort wanted your mother, it was her Seer abilities. He could have done so much more damage if he had someone like her on his side. That was another reason to keep you away from Sirius’ family. If they were to get their hooks into as a child, they could have corrupted you and manipulated you into doing their bidding.” Hope was silent for a few moments.

“Hope, I’m sorry for the pain I have caused you. I know what it is like to feel like an outcast. To feel so alone and that no one will ever understand you. I should have know. I am so sorry.” He felt Hope lean back into him and he wrapped his arms around her. He couldn’t bring himself to tell you that your father was the reason that James and Lily Potter were dead. That would have been a horrific blow. His mind drifted to the small vault at Gringott’s that held Hope’s name. Inside was the money that Sirius and Nora had amassed from the inheritance Sirius got from his Uncle. Remus made sure to use it carefully to take care of his niece, never using any of it on himself. What really stuck in his mind were the few journals and vials that Nora had left for her daughter. Keeping those from her was something he had struggled with for years. But she were still too young. He was not going to burden her any further. Perhaps in a year or so when Hope came into her own he would bring them to herS There was too much darkness for her young mind. He needed to preserve Hope’s innocence for as long as he could.

“Does Harry Potter know who I am?” Nora knew of Harry. How he had somehow stopped Voldemort. How the two had played together as children. When his parents died he was brought to live with his Muggle family. Hope had overheard Remus and Andromeda mention the Sorcerers Stone and The Chamber of Secrets. It seemed that Harry had a knack for getting into trouble. Hope had tried to catch more details, but the adults in her life were always careful to not share too much information.

“I don’t think that he does. His muggle family doesn’t look kindly on the magical community. From what Dumbledore told me, he didn't even know he was a Wizard until Hagrid had to personally deliver his Hogwarts letter. Apparently his Aunt and Uncle were determined to keep him away from magic and wouldn't give him his letter. He hasn’t been around many people that know of the history that links the two of you. The Weasley children wouldn’t know to mention you. I doubt Molly or Arthur would tell them any personal details without speaking with me first. Dumbledore and the other professors wouldn’t say anything. But you will meet him soon enough.” Hope was itching to meet Harry Potter. Not because he was famous, but because he was a connection the past you so desperately wanted to know. Remus studied your face for a moment, watching you process what he was saying. "You and Harry have quite a bit in common. I have a feeling that you will be good friends. James and Lily would have wanted that, as would your mother."

“Will I ever understand what happened?" How did a loving father and husband turn into a mass murderer? Hope couldn't reconcile the two people that encompassed who her father was.

"Perhaps someday, when you're older you'll be able to reach a level of peace." That didn't really answer her question. Hope still felt like he was holding back, but this was more than they had ever discussed before.

"I'm sorry for shouting at you." Hope looked down, deeply ashamed. She had gotten better at controlling her temper, but occasionally she lost control. She had never behaved this way towards her uncle..

"Oh darling, it's alright. I'm sure this wont be the only go you have at me. You are after all your mother's daughter. She was never afraid to give me a piece of her mind." Hope was grateful for his never ending patience with her.

"I think I'm going to go to bed. I love you, Uncle Remus, very much." She felt his facial hair tickle the side of her head as he gave her a quick kiss.

"I love you too, get some rest." Hope retreated to her bedroom. The polarized descriptions of her father running through her head. What if she was also polarized. The way her Uncle had raised her was the exact opposite of what the Black family believed. But if the entire half of her family were comprised of Dark Wizards, did she have that capability too? In the end, her father had turned that way. Maybe that was why all she could see was black. She too, would turn bad in the end as well.

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Hope sat staring into the fire. All of her things had been sent to Hogwarts and were waiting for her arrival. She had spent the morning on her beloved beach. She knew she would miss the briny smell of the air, the way the water would bite at her toes. She wanted to give the Ocean a proper goodbye. It had been her best friend for as long as she could remember. Now the only thing left to do was take the Floo into Professor McGonagall’s office. All of the excitement she had felt had turned into nerves. She had never been apart from her Uncle for more than a few days. Two weeks seemed like an eternity to be with strangers. She knew she was being silly, but she felt the tears welling up in her eyes as she waited for her Uncle to see her off. She looked down at the wand in her hand. 10 1/2 inches of birch wood with a Phoenix core. She had always loved the black and white of birch trees. How the black bark bled into the white leaving shades of gray. The Phoenix feather core gave her a little bit of trouble at first. Remus had reassured her that her wand just needed to get to know her. Phoenix cores were known to be powerful, yet took a while to gain control. In the end, he had been right. She slid her wand into the small bag at her feet and looked back at the fire.

Her visions and dreams had taken a strange form. She felt surges of anger, desperation and an intense sadness. A melancholy so deep she thought she would drown in it. It was affecting her moods more than it every had before. Shades of black and muted grey. But always black. She was starting to loath the color. It was so strange, all she was seeing was the color black, nothing concrete for the past month and a half up until a few nights prior. There had been a flash of purple and a set of green eyes staring back at her. Who they belonged to, she had no idea. Though she assumed she would soon enough. At this point, she only had visions of people she was connected to or came into contact with. Her mother had progressed far beyond that point by the time of her death. Hope didn't know if she would welcome that.

“Ready Darling?” Remus clapped his hands together, smiling at Hope. He too had felt a sinking feeling of being away from Hope for an extended period of time. When he saw the emotion swirling in her eyes he made sure to stuff his back down. “It’s alright. It’s only two weeks.”

“I know.” Hope’s voice felt like sandpaper as it exited her throat. “I’m just nervous.”

“I know. But it will go by quickly. Professor McGonagall will get you acquainted with the school and you’ll meet with your teachers briefly to get to know them. Remember what we talked about.”

“I know. I know. I’m Hope Lupin. I don’t think introducing myself as a member of the Black family will curry me any friends anyway.” Hope scoffed. Remus tried to hide a smile. “No one but Professor Dumbledore and Professor McGonagall know about my abilities so it’s best to keep it quiet for now.”

It had been confirmed that Draco Malfoy knew nothing of their relation. The Minister of Magic himself had instructed Lucius to not breath a word of it and to make sure his wife kept it to herself as well. Hope had no idea why the Minister was so keen on keeping her lineage a secret. It didn’t matter to Hope. She didn’t want to draw any more attention to herself than coming to Hogwarts in the middle of her education would draw. Incidentally, the Weasley children were in the dark about who her father was as well. All they knew was that Hope was the niece of a friend of their Arthur and Molly’s and that she had lost her parents in the war. Remus had never took Hope to The Burrow himself. He had always met up with Arthur. It had been years since they had seen Hope. She always felt overwhelmed by the sheer number of boys in the house. Hope was more inclined to stay with Andromeda and Ted as she got older.

“Just until you’ve found some people that you trust to tell them. Now, Arthur promised me that he spoke to the Fred, George and Ron. They’ll be looking for you when they arrive.”

“What if I’m not in their house?”

“Hope you are brilliant, funny and talented. Regardless of what house you land in, you will make friends. You will find your niche. The same way I did.”

“What if-“ Hope could feel all of her fears that had been festering about to tumble out. “What if I’m a Slytherin? What if I end up just as awful as everyone I’m related to? I mean, my father was wonderful when you were in school and then he turned. What if that is my destiny? What if that is why all I can see is black?” Hope had stood and was pacing. She always paced when she was coming undone. Remus had noticed it had been happening more frequently. He was counting on being at Hogwarts to be a distraction to keep her grounded. Remus stopped her and grabbed her by her shoulders.

“Hope, darling, stop. First of all, all members of Slytherin house are NOT dark wizards. Each house has produced its fair share. If you happen to end up in Slytherin then you will make them proud. You are not destined to go bad. You are not destined to be evil. That’s not how the world works.” He felt her relax. “This is why I’ve always avoided talking to you about them. You are better than that. When you forget that, think of Andeomeda.” Hope nodded her head.

“Okay.” Hope wrapped her arms around her Uncle’s torso and he hugged her tightly.

“Albus and Minerva are there for you while I am not there. But if you need me, all you need to do is send me an owl and I’ll write back immediately.” Hope let go and looked up at her Uncle and forced a smile.

“I’m ready.” He kisses her forehead.

“Remember, it’s only two weeks.” Hope nodded and approached the fireplace. She reached her hand into the bucket and pulled out the floo powder. After taking a deep breath she threw it into the flames.

“Hogwarts!”

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Hope stepped out of the large fireplace and brushed the soot off her her clothing. She really hated traveling by Floo. She looked around the small office. To her left was a large window where she could see the Quidditch pitch and what must have been the training grounds. She had expected a more grandiose office for a Hogwarts Deputy Mistress, but the smallness of it made Hope feel safe. Standing next to the desk was a very tall and stern looking woman. Her black hair was pulled back into a tight bun and she wore the most beautiful shade of emerald green robes. Her sternness melted away when she smiled at Hope.

“Welcome Ms. Lupin. I am Professor McGonagall." Hope smiled back.

"Hello Professor."

"I hope you don't mind me saying, but I have so looked forward to meeting you. I enjoyed teaching your mother and Uncle very much." Hope had been expecting the "you look so much like your mother" speech. She was grateful Minerva McGonagall kept those thoughts to herself, though Hope could see it in her eyes.

“Well I do hope you'll share some stories about my mother with me. Uncle Remus has obviously told me so much, everyday. But it would be nice to hear about her from another person's perspective."

“I would be delighted. I look forward to getting to know you over these next few weeks. First thing we must do is get you sorted." As soon as the words hit the air, there was a knock at the door. "Enter!" Professor McGonagall exclaimed. Hope grinned as Professor Dumbledore entered with a dilapidated looking hat. He was so eccentric and wonderfully odd. He radiated calmness which put Hope at ease.

“It's very good to see you again Hope. We are very happy to have you here."

"I wont lie professor, I was a little nervous leaving my Uncle but I do feel better now that I am here."

"I'm very pleased to hear that. I'm sure you'll find all of the staff at Hogwarts will be very willing to help you get settled. Now, we must get you sorted so we can get you set up in a dorm room." Professor McGonagall conjured a chair and motioned for Hope to take a seat. Her Uncle hadn't told her how they would choose her house. She watched wide eyed as Dumbledore approached and put the filthy looking hat on her curly blonde head. After a moment the hat came to life and it made Hope jump. She watched as McGonagall tried to contain a smirk.

“Well, well....what an interesting mind you have brought for me today.I was wondering when the youngest Black member would be joining us. This one will prove to be very difficult, very difficult indeed. I see that you have a long history of Slytherin blood in your veins, but cunning you are not. An ocean worth of talents much like your parents. Hard working and Loyal would make you an excellent Hufflepuff. But what is this? Bravery and courage, a little stubbornness. There it is...the nerve of your father. Let's make it- Gryffindor!" Hope felt her body relax, not realizing how tense she had been. She at least would have some people she knew in her house and hoped she would be able to call them friends.

“Wonderful Ms. Lupin. I will be your Head of House. You will share your room with Ms. Granger, Ms. Brown & Ms. Patil. I'm sure all 3 girls will be most welcoming. I will have your belongings brought to your room. For now, I will take you around to meet your professors."

At the end of the week, Hope was sitting in the common room of Gryffindor House. She ran her eyes across all of the plush arm chairs and couches that she loved to sink into already. Tables adorned the room near the furniture and there was a large bulletin board, while empty now, she was sure it would start filling up come September. She enjoyed the shades of red and gold around the room. It brightened her day and helped push the blackness back into her mind. She loved the extensive windows that looked out over the beautiful grounds of the school. She was drawn to the scarlet tapestries that depicted witches, wizards and various magical animals. They spoke to the artist within her. Though her favorite part was the extensive book collection on the shelves.

She had sent an owl to her Uncle letting him know she had been placed in the house that her and her mother had resided. Also told him off a bit for not warning her about The Sorting Hat. She hadn’t left out what the hat had said. “There it is, the nerve of your father.” had been swirling in Hope’s brain ever since.

Hope looked up as a hooting stirred her from her thoughts. Perched on the Griffyndor window sill was a Tiny Owl. Not often found in Britain, it had her curious. She was pure black and was hopping around the windowsill with a letter tied to her foot. Hope stood from the squishy arm chair she had planted herself in. As soon as she approached, the owl started nipping at her fingers affectionately. She recognized her Uncle's neat hand writing immediately. With a grin she gave the owl a quick pet and ripped open the letter.

Hope-

I'm sorry for not warning you about the Sorting Hat. But really...the surprise is the best part. Mostly for Professor McGonagall and Dumbledore. I didn't want to deprive them of that. I'm glad you're relieved that you're in Gryffindor. I do hope it is because you know the Weasley family and not because you're still worried about going bad. Your house does not determine whether you are good or bad. Yes, your father did have quite a lot of nerve. If I'm being honest, I see a lot of him in your personality. From his younger and more carefree days. The way your eyes smile when you’re happy. The sound of your laugh. You most certainly have his eyes. Hope, I know that many people compare you to your mother quite often and ignore the traits of Sirius. There was a good person there at one point. The good in him radiates from you. However, you are so much more than the parts of her and the parts of your father that can be seen within you. You are your own person. Please don't forget that. I've attached this letter to a beautiful Tiny Owl I found at Diagon Alley. She is yours. I wanted to get you something special for the start of school. Her black nature is rare, but I wanted you to see that black things can be beautiful. That darkness doesn't always have to be bad. Remember, even when you feel that you are in the deepest and most dark parts of your self, there is a light within you that will outshine it. I can't wait to hear what you name her. I'm starting to feel very worn down, but I look forward to seeing you soon. I heard you've impressed both Professor McGonagall and Professor Flitwick with both your charms and transfiguration abilities. I'm sure Professor Snape will be equally impressed with you, though he may not be willing to show it.

All of my love

-R

Remus always knew the right thing to say. He was right, she needed to push the idea that she would turn bad out of her mind. It was ridiculous. She knew that rationally she was being absurd. She should be excited. She wanted to attend Hogwarts for her entire life. The nerves she felt down were more from excitement than dread. She had already proven herself advanced in Transfiguration and Charms. She knew her Magical History. And while she was horrible in herbology, she hoped that learning with other students would help. She was also confident in potion making, though she was terrified of meeting Professor Snape. The side comments from the other professors lead her to the impression that he was not easily won over. Her Uncle had never mentioned him in a disparaging way, just that he would be a tough teacher. She looked at the clock on the wall and realized that it was almost time to meet with Professor Snape. She hurried to the portrait hole in the wall that swung open and climbed out of the common room, straightening her school uniform as she walked. The uniform would take some getting used to. She was used to jeans, t-shirts and comfortable dresses. Hope quickly made her way through the castle corridors and headed to the Potions Classroom in the Dungeon.

Once she reached the door, she paused for a moment and took a breath. She felt her nerves bubbling to the surface again. She made sure to steel herself and then pushed the door open. The room was rather large. She suspected it had to be to hold a full class of students and all of their potions equipment. The room was so quiet you could hear a pin hit the floor. While the rest of the castle radiated warmth and light, the Potions classroom seemed dark and cold. "How I've felt on the inside." was all Hope could think. There were pickled animals in jars along the wall that gave Hope pause. She had a feeling this would be her least favorite class if she had to look at those. There was a supply cupboard and in the corner of the classroom a basin where the water poured from the mouth of a gargoyle. The room as a whole was intimidating, just not as intimidating as the man stationed near the blackboard. Severus Snape had long black flowing robes adorned to his thin frame. His sallow skin reminded her of the photograph of her father in The Daily Prophet. His black hair was in sheets and framed his face. His dark eyes appeared to have never seen happiness a day in their lives. They both stood silently, sizing each other up. Hope could see recognition in his eyes, he must have known her mother. After what seemed like ages, he finally spoke.

“Good Evening Ms. Lupin. I am Professor Snape. Tonight we will see how adept you are at your potion making. I do hope you've kept up with your studies, I will not tolerate you falling behind." Hope simply nodded. "Tonight you will brew a Sleeping Draught. Standard for any 2nd year student."

"Yes Professor." Hope didn't even try to hold a conversation with Severus Snape. She knew it would be futile.

"Off you go." Hope saw a cauldron waiting. She quickly went to the the supply cupboard and pulled out the Lavender, Flobberworm Mucus, Valerian Sprigs and a large amount of their "standard ingredients". Once she got to her table, she flipped open the book and looked over the instructions. She added 4 springs of lavender and 2 measures of Standard Ingredient into the motar and crushed them into a creamy paste. She then added 2 blobs of Flobber Worm Mucus to her cauldron along with 2 more measures of Standard Ingredient into the cauldron and heated it for 30 seconds. She added the crushed mixture as directed and waved her wand. Time seemed to drag as she waited for the potion to brew. She could feel Snape's dark eyes on her but she didn't dare look up. She hoped this would be a more pleasant experience when the room was filled with classmates. Finally, the potion was ready for trhe next steps. She added the rest of the ingredients in, careful to follow the directions precisely on how to chop and stir. She made the final wave of her wand she saw the dark luscious potion bubbling back at her.

“I’m done Professor.” Snape slowly sauntered to her work station. He looked around and noticed that while she had been waiting for her potion to brew she had cleaned up her station.

“Perhaps you can give your fellow housemates some pointers on organization.” He murmured. He studied her potion, stirring it slightly. After a few agonizing moments. “This is...passable. I was concerned when I found out your Uncle had been educating you.” Hope narrowed her eyes at him. He looked at her smugly, challenging her to contradict him. I’m her mind she was telling him off. Her Uncle was blood brilliant and her potion was perfect. She swallows any remark she wanted to make. When he was satisfied she wasn’t going to mouth off he waved his wand and the potion she made vanished. “You may go.”

“Thank you Professor. Have a good night.” She turned on her heel and quickly left the dungeon, feeling his dark eyes watch her as she fled. As she was rushing back to the Gryffindor Common room she felt the familiar twinge in between her eyes. She knew she was in for a rough night.

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Hope had a difficult time settling down for the night. She piercing in her skull had been gaining intensity. For the first time since she had been there she regretted coming without her Uncle. He always knew how to help her feel better. Whether they spent the night talking or he would just sit with her as she struggled so she wasn't alone. He took care of her, he always took care of her. She spent the night tossing and turning, her mind turning against her. Black liquid was flooding her brain. The same pair of green eyes were starring back at her. They would go from a state of shock and morph into eyes of confusion. The feeling of melancholy worked its way back into her soul and it was stifling her. Never before did she ever think that her own mind would suffocate her. She was all alone and there was no one there to wake her from the prison of her mind.

As daybreak hit, Hope found herself in the bathroom with her head over the toilet. The piercing agony in her head was beyond anything she had ever felt before. It was as if someone were driving a hot poker from the fireplace directly into her brain. Tears poured down her face as the last wave of nausea finally passed. She needed help, but she was too weak to get up and go to Professor McGonagall. Instead, Hope laid her head down on the cold hard floor for some brief relief. Cold always helped ease her pain before, but this pain was beyond measure. She needed to at least get back to bed, but she didn't have the strength to pull herself off of the floor. Eventually she slipped into a deep sleep with her face pressed against the floor. After what seemed like only moments later a voice woke Hope up with a start. She sat up quickly and immediately regretted it as the piercing pain returned.

“Hope...my dear are you alright?” Professor McGonagall’s frantic voice filled her ears like hot lava heading to her brain. Everything was too loud. Hope squinted as the brightness burned her eyes and looked up to her Head of House.

“What time is it?” Hope saw sunlight streaming into the room. It had been barely light out when she was last conscious. Confusion flooded her exhausted mind.

“It’s after 2pm. I was informed that you missed your flying lesson with Madame Hooch. I thought perhaps you had mixed up the time as we've kept you very busy this past week. I went to check the great hall to see if you were eating lunch and the house elves informed me that you hadn’t been down to eat.”

“I’m so sorry Professor. I- I had a bad night." Hope groaned and clutched the side of her head. "My headache was so horrible it made me sick. I've never had one this bad. I couldn't get up to go for help. I must have fallen asleep here. I didn’t mean to miss a flying lesson.“ Minerva helped Hope to her feet.

“I remember your mother having some nasty spells like this. Do not worry about missing your lesson. There is plenty of time for you to learn how to fly on a broom. That isn't what is important. Let’s get you down to Madam Pomfrey. She used to make your mother feel better.” Hope looked down at her baggy sweatpants and your loose V-Neck t-shirt and felt embarrassment flood her face.

“Don’t worry about how you are dressed. No one will see you. Come Hope.” Professor McGonagall wrapped a firm arm around Hope's body and led her down the stairs and out of the Common Room through the portrait hole. If it hadn't been for the professor's strong grip, Hope was certain she would have fainted. The walk to the hospital wing had Hope feeling dizzy. As soon as they walked into the hospital wing, Madam Pomfrey made a fuss over Hope and got her into one of the beds. Hope heard her tell Professor McGonagall that she would keep her updated. Hope felt a cool compress on her head that was soothing and the room darkened.

Unbeknownst to Hope, she spent the next 4 and a half days in and out of consciousness in the hospital wing. It wasn’t surprising that the healing potions Madam Pomfrey had tried were ineffective, they had never worked well before. The would sometimes take the edge off of the pain so that Hope could function, but this pain was incessant. One evening as Hope slipped briefly into consciousness she heard Professor Dumbledore’s calming voice.

“Remus said she’s never had a spell that has lasted this long. As the full moon is about to hit, he cannot come to the castle. I have precautions prepared for subsequent full moons, but I was unable to get them ready so quickly. He is beside himself with worry and his condition makes him more agitated now than he normally is. I promised to send him updates." Hope felt a pang of guilt. It was bad enough Remus had to deal with the full moon, he shouldn't have to worry about her too. Another set of footsteps approached. Hope was in too much pain and far too exhausted to let them know you were awake. "Oh Severus good." Dumbledore continued speaking. "Do you have it? And you had no problems brewing it?” Hope felt the pain overwhelm her again and she slipped back into the darkness before she could hear Snape's response..

Whatever Severus Snape had brought to Dumbledore was helping. The pain was very slowly dissipating. It also must have been keeping her asleep as she hadn't been awake since the last time she heard Dumbledore's voice. Her dreams had begun to change. Instead of inky black and green eyes, her dreams were of being a little girl and her Uncle walking her on the beach and in hand. He had a youthful glow about him, but a deep sadness in his eyes. She heard his laugh as he spun her around. They built sand castles and she watched as he helped her paint her first picture. As difficult as it had been for the both of them, Remus had given her a wonderful life.

It was two more days of pleasant dreams and memories before Hope slowly opened her eyes. For the first time in almost a week, the pain was gone. Three pairs of eyes peered down at her, Professor McGonagall, Professor Dumbledore and Professor Snape. She was surprised to see that Snape seemed just as concerned as the other two. Hope blinked her eyes to adjust.

“How are you feeling Hope?” Professor Dumbledore gave her a comforting smile.

“I- better- I think. Yes, definitely better. How long have I been here?”

“All week. You gave us all quite a scare. I must say your Uncle is beside himself. He will be arriving tomorrow. I’m sure he will be thrilled to know that you’re on the mend.”

“A week? It’s never been that bad.” Hope looked at Professor Snape. She wasn’t sure if he knew her situation. She wanted to be careful about what she said. Dumbledore must have sensed her apprehension.

“Remus agreed that it was essential to bring in Professor Snape into the fold. We needed his potions expertise. None of the remedies that used to work for your mother were helping you. He was able to brew something up that seemed to help. Though it is not something you can take frequently.”

“Wh- What was it?”

“Oh a very complicated potion. We can discuss that at another time. For now, we will leave you in Madam Pomfrey’s capable hands. I wish for you to stay for the rest of the day just to make sure you are truly okay. You can return to your dormitory tomorrow morning if all goes well. I will stop back and check on you this evening.” McGonagall gave Hope a smile that was filled with relief, where as Snape still looked worried. Without another word, all 3 professors were retreating. When Hope looked to the side table, there sat her sketch book and pencils and smiled. Even from far away, her Uncle was making sure she was getting what she needed.

She spent the day being fawned over by Madam Pomfrey and being fed by House Elves. Hope was obsessed with all things chocolate, a love she and Remus had in common. The chocolate cake from the Hogwarts Kitchen was divine. In between it all, she sketched. She sketched the only thing that had been on her mind for almost two weeks. The pair of emerald green eyes surrounded by a fluid black background. They were quite nice, whoever they belonged too. Hope had just finished adding the color to her drawing when Dumbledore walked in. He had something in his hands.

“Good Evening Hope. I’m informed you’re doing quite well. I'm happy that Remus wont have to storm the castle to get to the hospital wing to get to you. I see you found your sketch book I had left for you. Remus said it helps clear your mind. May I?” He gestured her book. Hope slowly handed it to him. He studied the eyes staring back at him and it was like a light of recognition went off in his mind, though he didn’t say why. “May I ask what made you draw this?” She sighed. She always had a hard time explaining what you were seeing.

“For a month, all I have seen is darkness, blackness, despair and longing. Then suddenly these eyes started popping into my dreams.”

“When?”

“Not long before I came here. Maybe 2 1/2 weeks ago.” He nodded, but didn’t give anything away. He clearly had an opinion and no plans to share it.

“I brought these for you. I thought you might like them.” He handed her two photos. One was of a much younger Remus and her mother. Remus had his arm around her and they donned their Hogwarts uniforms, they were both grinning madly. When Hope pulled out the picture behind it, she gasped. There she was, sitting on the lap of a beautiful red headed woman and next to her, on her mother’s lap was a little boy with dark hair and a bright smile. Standing behind Lily was a tall man, with messy dark hair and wire rimmed glasses. Finally, standing next to him and behind her mother was the most handsome man she had ever seen. A man whose face she had only seen a few times, her father.

“Is that...” Hope’s voice trailed off and she covered her mouth holding in a sob.

“Yes Hope. You’re sitting with Lily. And Harry is with your mother. James and your father are behind you.” Seeing her mother so happy and laughing made tears fill her eyes. She couldn’t have been alive much longer after this was taken. Hope wondered if she knew this was one of the last times they would all be together? She could barely look at her father without her heart breaking. He and James were so joyful and carefree. Harry was turned towards Hope and gripped in his hand was hers. Both children were laughing along with their parents. “Had fate been kinder, you and Harry would have led much different lives. You would have grown up together. I think you will find a very good friend in Harry Potter.”

“Professor, thank you. I-“ Hope couldn’t say anything more.

“You are most welcome. Now don’t get too upset or you’ll get me in trouble.” You laughed slightly as Dumbledore’s blue eyes sparkled down at you. “Now get some sleep. I will see you tomorrow.” Dumbledore smiled once more and headed back from where he came.

Hope spent the rest of the evening staring at the pictures Dumbledore gave her. She wasn’t sure why he had them, but she didn’t much care. She stared at the picture until she fell asleep, dreaming of the family that she longed to have. What would it have been like to grow up with both of her parents or even just one of them? She loved Remus so much, but she couldn’t help wanting what she couldn’t have. Snape's potion must have still been working because for the first time that Hope could remember, she had a dreamless sleep. She slept in the following morning and ate the breakfast that the house elves brought her. When she was done, Madam Pomfrey wished her well and sent her on her way.

When Hope got back to her room she hid the pictures from Dumbledore into the bottom of her trunk. She wasn't quite ready to share that part of her with anyone. She couldn't imagine the reaction to Sirius Black being her father would be a good. one. It was best to keep that photo for just herself, for now. She pulled out a clean uniform and robes and laid them out for later. She dug out some clean lounge clothes and proceeded to take the longest, hottest shower she had ever taken. She ate lunch in the common room while looking through more of the books on the shelves. She lost herself in a copy of "Household Stories from the Collection of the Brothers Grimm" .

When she realized that her classmates would be arriving any moment. She cleaned up her mess and ran quickly to her room to get changed. Once she was dressed she tried to smooth out her hair, which was pointless. There was no taming the curly blonde locks that adorned her head. She really hoped one of the Gryffindor girls knew a spell to help her straighten her hair. She excitedly bound out of her room and through the portrait hole. She wanted to get to The Great Hall and see her Uncle before the feast started. She rushed through the hall as students started piling in. As she weaved through the mass of students she smacked directly into another student.

She stumbled back and they grabbed her both of her arms with strong hands to steady her. She looked up to see a boy with unruly dark hair, a bit of a scar on his forehead peaked out below his hair. He wore wired rimmed glasses. Behind the glasses stared the eyes that had been haunting her for weeks. The brilliant emerald green eyes belonged to Harry Potter.

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