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#muggleborn problems
cherry-pop-elf · 5 months
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Professor-! I think this question is uh um. A little out dated……
And why is that, Mr. Cherry Wood?
Well…..Look who you are talking to.
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Wizarding Blood-Purity is a Sham
I think that a lot of people forget that Salazar Slytherin wasn't racist.
And no, before you go all crazy on me just remember in the second book, when fear and anger and all kinds of emotions were running wild and everyone distrusted Slytherin House, students asked a teacher about what happened. And that teacher, a ghost who for all we know could have been there when it actually happened, gave an honest answer.
"Slytherin wished to be more selective about the students admitted to Hogwarts. He believed that magical learning should be kept within all-magic families. He disliked taking students of Muggle parentage, believing them to be untrustworthy."
Look at the language. Look at it, and understand that Salazar didn't see Muggle-borns as inferior, as worse. He saw them as untrustworthy.
Why, you ask? Well Professor Binns answers that as well!
"[The founders] built this castle together, far from prying Muggle eyes, for it was an age when magic was feared by common people, and witches and wizard suffered much persecution."
Salazar didn't like Muggles because they were hunting his family, his people, and persecuting them with horrific violence. He didn't trust Muggle-borns because how could he know that they wouldn't betray the magical world and tell their families that the kid two villages over practices magic with him on Tuesdays?
And yes, witches and wizards had ways to make it look like they burned at the stake when they actually survived, such as the Flame-Freezing Charm. But young children, with little control over their magic? If they were caught or exposed, well, it probably wouldn't end well for them.
Plus, wizardkind is outnumbered by Muggles, by a huge amount. If a village of Muggles who hated and feared magic discovered that a family of wizards and witches was among them, the parents would be burdened with trying to flee from a few hundred people while protecting their kids (who can't control their magic).
Salazar Slytherin didn't like Muggles or Muggle-borns. He hated them and feared them, not because they were inferior, but because they were dangerous. And while murdering children with a giant snake is not a good way to solve this danger to his family, people, and culture, it HAS to be seen that his actions were born not from arrogance, but from fear.
And there were Slytherins who knew this, long before Muggles had become so othered from wizarding society that some families started to believe that Muggles were inferior to those with "pure blood." Like Merlin, Prince of Enchanters, arguably the greatest wizard of all time, who founded the Order of Merlin to protect and aid Muggles, whose name has become synonymous with Muggle rights activisim. Merlin, a Slytherin.
If Salazar Slytherin was alive in the 20th century, he would laugh at the idea that Muggles were inferior. He would be the first to point out that Lily Evans and Hermione Granger, the brightest witches of their age, were Muggle-born. He would scorn the idea that pure-bloods were better, saying if that's true, why is Draco Malfoy, a pure-blood, second to a Muggle-born?
Salazar had questionable morals, to be sure (anyone who doesn't think so can re-read the Chamber of Secrets, where he hid a giant snake in a school full of children to murder the ones he deemed dangerous). But he never, never once thought that Muggles were inferior to wizards.
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lushaletta · 2 months
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the lamb and her wolf / tom riddle
pairing: tom riddle x fem!reader
content: muggleborn!reader, tom is goin a lil mad
summary: have you fallen into the dark lord’s trap, or has he fallen into yours?
a/n: i wrote this at 4 in the morning so enjoy this stream of consciousness grumpy x sunshine esque tom riddle fanfiction or something.
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⋆ ࣪.  ⁺⑅ ⋰˚ *.゚ .˳⁺⁎˚ ˚⁎⁺˳ . ༺ ˖࣪ ˖࣪ ∗
Tom is in a frenzy of sorts, he’s concluded.
Perhaps it is the sleepless nights and stressful days that cloud his weeks that are causing the weird feeling in his chest. Insomnia-induced hysteria.
There’s a flurry of thoughts swirling around his head recently. All with a common theme; you. The space in his brain that he typically reserved for Ancient Runes or Arithmancy was now composed of you, you, and only you.
It makes him sick to his stomach.
He’s unfocused. And he can’t be, because he’s supposed to be working on the secret that Salazar Slytherin hid in the deep crevices of Hogwarts some years ago.
His fingers tap on the book that he can’t seem to pay attention to as he tries to make sense of this. The disgusting, awful, pleasant fondness he feels for you. For a Muggleborn girl no less.
The only solution to his problem is to kill you. It wouldn’t be hard, he thinks. You’re small and meek and all too trusting of him. Like a lamb to the slaughter.
You are a symbol of everything he despises. Joy. Innocence. You are of the same kind as his worthless father. So why is it that he can’t bring himself to end you? To end your time together? He’s done it before. He’s done it plenty of times and without a second thought.
“Tom!” your horrible, beautiful voice cheers, snapping him out of his thoughts. Oh, great, he thinks. You plague his mind and now you bedevil his reality.
“Hello,” he says after a beat.
You ignore his bothered expression and smile. “I’ve brought snacks! You do like mince pie, don’t you?” He nods weakly. “Good, because my mam’s had some sent. She’s trying out a new recipe. Secret ingredient or something like that. I’m sure you haven’t eaten yet, with your inane study habits, I mean, do you ever have breaks?” You ramble on and he listens with fascination. How could you be talking to him so casually? So endearingly?
You’re far from done. “It doesn’t matter, though. You’ll have a break now. Go on, put your book away, would you?” He does as told. He’s not sure why. You take a seat at his table, fumbling with the paper bag you’ve brought. “Aha! Mince pie! One for each of us. Tell me if you like it, I’ll have Mam send some more. She’d be delighted.”
It’s at this point, where he’s chewing on warm minced pie and watching you do the same, nodding contentedly, that he wonders which life decisions he’d made led up to this. He’s the Dark Lord. A name that the world will soon fear. If all goes to plan, you’ll be reading in terror of all the vile things he’s done in the paper. You’ll be afraid of him, and he can’t help dread it. He dreads the thought of your heartbroken eyes as you realise what a wicked person you’d extended your kindness to.
It’s the frenzy again. What is he even thinking? He dreaded nothing. He looked at his plans with excitement.
“Tom? Hellooo,” you say, singsongingly. He didn’t even realise you’d been speaking. He glances up at you and imagines what you’d think of him once the truth comes out.
“Yes?”
“What do you think? About the pie, I mean.”
He clears his throat, fingers gripping the armrest of his seat. “Good. It’s good.” That draws another pretty smile out of you and he really hates the way it made him feel. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome! Also, Tommy,” He quirks his brow. The nickname was a slip of the tongue. You’d never used it and it made you nervous, but he didn’t seem to mind so much. “Are you busy later? I need some help with Transfiguration.”
He’s always busy. Well, he should be. He’s been slacking recently, too preoccupied with your freshly baked desserts and strawberry-smelling hair.
“I could make time for that,” he says decidedly.
Idiot. Idiot, idiot, idiot.
You’re immediately on your feet, giddy like how he’d imagine a child to be upon receiving candy. “Thank you! Oh, you’re a lifesaver, truly!” you say, and suddenly a kiss is planted on his cheek.
A full stop. His world pauses and spins on its axis. Your lips felt good. Bad.
What an evil, evil wolf he was.
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ur-local-anti-hero · 1 month
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Speak now
James Potter x Malfoy!Reader
Summary: If the marauders are against something, its agaisnt pureblood families ideologies. Sometimes that implies to wreak havoc on a white veil occasion.
Genre: Hurt/comfort, Fluff and a tiny bit of Angst. Arranged Marriage
CW: Forced Marriage, Familiar problems, talks about blood purity and blood traitors. Breaking into a weddig idk.
Word count: 2.2K
This is part of my Speak Now (Marauders’ version) collection 
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“So don't say yes, run away now. I'll meet you when you're out of the church at the back door.
Don't wait, or say a single vow. You need to hear me out”
When you were younger you saw a fair amount of weddings. They were always presented to you as big emotional events in which two people promised eternal love to each other. 
Even when you didn't know anything about love as a kid, it was no wonder that you yearned to have your own wedding once you grew up. It was a dream to have your own white dress, a beautifully decorated venue and a partner you loved so deeply you’d be willing to spend your whole life with them. 
Looking back maybe you should’ve known better. The first sign should’ve been your surname. A Malfoy has expectations they have to meet, keeping the bloodline pure, for starters. 
The second one should’ve been your parents’ loveless marriage, when you were younger you used to wonder why they’d married at all, now it was quite obvious. 
The third and most evident should’ve been when Andromeda Black was disowned. At that time you didn’t truly understand what that entailed, and why it was such a hassle that she wanted to get married. Now you understood that the problem was not the wedding, if not the groom. 
All your fantasies about the commonly named ‘Big day’ were completely shattered when your 18th birthday came, and with it a letter from your parents which contained the name of your soon to be husband. You tried to fight it, which only made your parents move the date of the wedding forward and get you out of Hogwarts, your education didn’t matter anymore to them now that your future as a housewife was inevitable. And being away from Hogwarts also meant being away from the ‘bad influences’ in your life. 
Now the corset of your white dress was suffocating, you felt trapped. Looking at the mirror was like looking at someone else. The girl with lifeless eyes and heavy make-up that couldn’t hide her eyebags was supposed to be you, yet it felt like a perfectly modelated version of yourself, made to impress the high class families attending the wedding. 
Narcissa’s gentle hands were bradding your hair, finishing your look before the wedding. Usually her presence was able to calm you down. Ever since she married your older brother, Lucius, her presence was regular in family gatherings and you’ve always felt some kind of kinship with her, seeking shelter on her whenever the phony and pompous encounters became too overwhelming.
You could attribute your shifted feelings towards her to the fact that she was unknowingly preparing you for eternal misery, or maybe because she was replacing the ones who you would’ve chosen as bridesmaids - there was no place for muggleborns in an event celebrating the union of two pureblood heirs -. Or even because it was her little cousin the one you were to wed. 
“You look beautiful” said Narcissa once she was done with your hair. 
You nodded and gave her a small thank you. However, you disagreed completely, the girl she was looking at was not you, it was your parent’s perfect daughter. 
“You do look lovely, father and mother are going to be delighted” your brother’s voice came from the door, where he was leaning on. “I brought you some company” he gestured behind him. 
Pandora and Dorcas stormed into the room, the former embracing you into a tight hug when they spotted you. Lucius and Narcissa left the room. 
“How are you holding up?” Pandora asked as soon as the door closed behind Lucius and Narcissa. Her arms were still holding you tightly, Dorcas standing behind her. 
You shrugged at her, not being able to talk due the knot in your throat and the tears threatening to fall from your eyes. You kept your eyes glued to the mirror. 
Pandora stepped out of the hug and stood next to Dorcas, who had yet to speak. 
“Evan and Barty are with Regulus, I swear I never thought I would see him in a tux” said Dorcas, trying to make conversation. The thought of Regulus being in the same situation as you didn’t make you feel better, the knot in your throat was getting tighther by the second. You promised to yourself you wouldn’t cry anymore, to be honest you thought you had run out of tears days ago. 
“Sirius is here too” Pandora was trying to distract you from the wedding. If she was being honest with herself there was nothing they could do to make you feel better. But maybe knowing that your best friend was out there could help a little. 
That made you finally look away from the mirror, a small wave of hope cursing through you. If Sirius was here it meant that James could be too. In the eyes of your family his family’s name was not good enough for yours, but maybe it was enough for him to be a guest. 
Maybe it was selfish to wish for him to be there when you knew how much it would hurt him, but you needed to talk to him, he was the only one who could actually comfort you right now, the only presence that would make everything feel normal again. You yearned to feel his touch against your skin and his lips against yours, even if it was for one last time, as a farewell. 
“Is he… Is James here?” you spoke for the first time. 
The answer was clear in the pitiful look they gave you even before Pandora replied with a soft ‘no’. 
You don’t know what did it, if the look in the faces of your friends or the fact that you would never see James again, but tears started rolling down your face. In seconds you were being embraced by Pandora again, and Dorcas’ hand was wiping away your tears. 
“It’s okay, you are going to be okay” Pandora didn’t believe her own words, but there was little she could do to calm you down and you both knew it. 
There was a knock on the door and your dad’s voice came from the other side “Y/N, it’s time” 
Pandora gave you a squeeze before letting you go from the hug. They both left the room, not without giving you a forced smile. 
“Oh, merlin” you said to yourself as soon as you were left alone, going back to the mirror, you wiped the few tears that were left on your face, and tried to fix the smudged make-up around your eyes with your fingers. You didn’t want to give your parents the satisfaction of seeing how much this affected you. 
Once you looked mildly presentable again you exited the room. Your father was waiting for you and he offered you his arm to lead you towards the venue. 
You could see the whole venue from the end of the aisle. The green and black motives contrasted beatifully with the white flowers decorating the aisle and the top of the altar. The guests were placed in black chairs at both ends of the aisle. 
You weren’t brave enough to lift your glaze from the ground, knowning that you wouldn’t see the love of your life waiting for you as you had dreamt since you were a kid. The heavy veil of your dress made your steps slow and lethargic. 
It was not until you were halfway down the aisle that you gathered enough courage to finally look at the man in front of you. Instead of the boy with unruly curly brown hair and eyes filled with love, there standing was Regulus, his black hair slicked back and eyes drowned by the same defeated look you wore. 
Once you reached his side everything went in a blur, all you remember is him taking your hands into his and the officiant talking. 
“If anyone has any objection, speak now or forever hold your peace” 
You were really going insane because you swore you saw James standing at the end of the aisle, wearing a tuxedo and with his hand up in the air. 
“I oppose!” His voice was loud and clear, your eyes widened. 
All the guests' eyes went to his figure and several surprised gasps were heard. Maybe you were not hallucinating. 
───✥───
If Fleamont Potter ever found out how James was using his inherited cloak of invisivility he’d be horrified, or maybe oddly proud of his son. 
Not even James thought he would ever sneak into a highly patrolled wedding on a common Tuesday, but honestly if someone had told him a year ago he’d be doing this he wouldn’t be surprised. 
Sneaking in a wedding filled with pureblood families and slytherin students was the perfect setup for a Marauders prank. However, what would have surprised him would’ve been the reason for interrupting a white veil occasion. Dating a Malfoy was something he hadn’t expected to ever do, but you had gotten past all his defenses with your kind and bright personality that proved to be so different from your family’s pretentious ways. 
Therefore, he was now standing on the aisle you had walked minutes ago. He had a perfect view of you and Regulus from his stance, your white dress was gorgeous, and your hair was neatly done. If it weren’t for your puffy and bloodshot eyes, and the obvious defeated look in your face, a look that had no place in a wedding, he could almost believe this was a normal marriage ceremony. 
When you had received the letter from your parents you had been inconsolable, and rightfully so. James had tried everything to stop the wedding, he even went as far as asking your parents for their blessing and to be the one you'd wed instead of the Black heir. Turned out to be useless as his family had been marked as blood traitors for eternity. 
But James isn't known for giving up easily, and the Marauders were not going to let an opportunity to cause havoc pass by. 
With the promise of being on his best behavior, Sirius had convinced his parents to attend the wedding as a guest, acting as a mole for his friends' plans. Remus and Lily were outside the venue with their ride home -a couple of broomsticks they borrowed from Hogwarts' supply closet. 
And the last part of the plan, and its success rested on James' shoulders. 
The preacher spoke 'Speak now or forever hold your peace' James smirked, that was his cue. It was on. 
James took off his invisibility cloak and without a single trace of shame or shyness in his voice James stated loudly "I oppose!"
James would've loved to stop for a moment to memorize the looks of complete horror in the faces of the guests, but he had to be fast and make total use of the element of surprise. 
Without hesitation James sprinted towards the altar. He could see the way your brother had stood up and pointed his wand at him, his spell being intercepted by Sirius' expelliarmus spell. 
As soon as James made it to the altar chaos erupted from everyone in the venue, he could make out the shouts of your parents and some spells that were being intercepted by yours and James' friends. 
At the sight of James Regulus let your hands go, he raised his arms in defeat and left the altar without much hassle. 
"Gentleman" James greeted Regulus' groomsmen, Barty and Evan who were just as stunned as everyone, all they could do was nod in acknowledgement to James, not even trying to interfere. 
"Hi, love" he was finally looking at you, your eyes were wide with surprise and tears were gathered in your waterline. James took your hands in one of his and the other was raised to stroke your cheek. 
“James what- how-” you were completely astonished, and unable to formulate a single phrase. You knew your boyfriend loved you, and the lengths he would go to prove it, but you would have never guessed he’d be willing to break into your wedding ceremony. He was always proving you wrong. 
“Hey Peter, mate, it’s your moment to shine” Following james’ words a rat came out of his pants’ pocket. 
And suddenly Peter was standing in front of you. He pushed the appalled officiant slightly to the side and took his place. 
Peter cleared his throat before speaking “Do you, James Fleamont Potter, take Y/N Malfoy as your wife?” 
“I do” 
“Do you, Y/N Malfoy, take James Fleamont Potter as your husband?” 
You could hardly mutter a low “I do” before Peter spoke again 
“I declare you husband and wife. You might kiss the bride” 
James didn’t hesitate for a moment. To add dramatism he spun you around and dipped you, holding your weight with his arm. And without waiting for another second he kissed you, sweet and slow, conveying all his love for you with that gesture. 
When you became breathless you broke the kiss and looked at James straight into his beautiful eyes, which only show deep adoration. “I love you” you mouthed to him, which made his eyes sparkle with joy and a wide grin to break into face. 
He took you in his arms bridal style and walked down the aisle. You coudln’t even care about the chaos and spells that were aimed your way, all you could look at was James. 
And as he muttered “I love you too, Miss Potter” you knew he’d do anything to prove his love for you. 
Author's note: This one is of my faves of the collection ngl, James is my soft spot Thank you for reading! Likes, comments and reblogs are welcomed and very appreciated. I'd love to hear what you thought about it so don't be shy!! To be part of the taglist Dm me or send me an ask <3 Taglist @feral-posts @izuoyarmin @aremuslupinsim @yourfavgay @imobsessedwitholiviarodrigo 
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Twst Dormleaders + Jamil Accidentally Call MC (Y/N) a Mudblood During an Argument
A/N: This is a Harry Potter AU. I would highly suggest reading the previous: “Twst boys and their Blood Status”, to really grasp the understanding of this concept because if you don’t you may or may not be confused. If you aren’t familiar with the term “Mudblood”, it’s a very offensive word that pure-blood wizards and half blood wizards (ironically enough) use against muggleborns. The meaning is “dirty blood”. Now I know I said in the previous post that most of the boys would never discriminate against blood status, and that’s true but sometimes people can say what they don’t mean, especially when they’re angry. Now I might make a part 2 of this post as redemption headcanons on how they apologize, idk. Now just to clarify MC (y/n) is not dating them but the boys do have a secret crush on them and they’re friends.
Riddle Rosehearts
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You two were arguing about how you are apparently getting “lazy” with your school work. But in your defense you weren’t being lazy because you had a lot on your plate, being prefect of Ramshackle and the “beast tamer”.
You two were in the Heartstabyl Lounge area studying because he wanted to help you
You kept picking up your phone every five minutes to answer texts from your friends or professors and Riddle was getting annoyed with you every passing minute.
“Prefect, don’t you know how rude it is to be on your phone when someone is speaking to you?” He says tapping his gloved fingers on the table with an annoyed expression.
“Hm?” You say while scrolling and not making eye contact.
Riddle rolls his eyes. “You’re supposed to be paying attention. I’m helping you for a reason. On your last potions exam you received a 70%. That’s extremely disgraceful for not only just for a regular student, but also a prefect!”
You finally put your phone down and make eye contact with him. “Will you just relax? A 70% isn’t bad. It’s still passing, and besides that topic was so hard to learn. Will you just cut me some slack?”
Riddle sees red when you say a mere 70% “isn’t bad”. He stands up and begins to raise his voice while making eye contact with you. “You can’t be serious Y/n! You’re supposed to be setting an example! Why are you even a prefect if you can’t even have the motivation to work hard and have perseverance! And besides the topic wasn’t even difficult, it’s just you’re not even trying!”
You get angry and stand up to meet his eye level. “Not trying? NOT TRYING? You have no idea what my life is like everyday! To have an idiot headmaster to make you do his job for him, solve problems that aren’t even your fault and stop overblots without dying! Of course you would be inconsiderate of my situation and scold me! Listen just because your mother was hard on you with your academics, doesn’t mean you have to act that way with me!”
Riddle loses it
“YOU’RE RIGHT, I WOULDN’T EXPECT A MUDBLOOD LIKE YOU TO UNDERSTAND THE IMPORTANCE OF SUCCEEDING IN COMPLEX WIZARD ACADEMICS!”
There was a pause
You stare at him for a long time without blinking
Riddle realizes what came out of his mouth, he knows that was he said was extremely below the belt. He clears his throat and averts his eyes.
Then his eyes widen with horror, a sight he was dreaded to see. Your eyes went red and glossy. Tears began to flow from your eyes.
“Y/n I-.” He was cut off by you swiftly packing your things and hastily leaving the room.
Riddle quietly curses himself. How stupid can he be? He made people cry before. But he’d never thought in a million years that he would make the person he secretly loved cry. Especially using….THAT word. He wants to make it up to you. But how?
Leona Kingscholar
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You were angry at the fact that Crowley made it YOUR responsibility to make sure that Leona was going to class on time and participate in his studies.
Not only that, but you were angry at the fact that you barely got to spend time with him due to his excessive sleeping schedule. At first, you didn’t mind helping Leona get to class on time or that he likes to sleep. But after a while, it became a chore to “babysit” the lazy lion.
You were on your way to the botanical gardens, Leona’s self claimed napping spot, to tell him he needs to be in class.
You found him
“Leona.” You gently shook him.
He shifts and turns to you with a half open glare.
He lightly growls. “Go away Herbivore. Can’t you see I’m napping?”
You roll your eyes. “Yes I can see that and you shouldn’t be. You are meant to be in class.”
He ignores you
You huff in frustration and gently kick his side. “Up. Now.”
Leona growls loudly this time and sits up.
“Don’t you have any idea of how much this situation affects me? What do you get out of sleeping all the time? I want to spend time with you and you’re not making any effort on your part.” You say while crossing your arms.
Leona rolls his eyes
“Tsk. You’re such a nuisance. Not everything is about you. Now run along and play with the other annoying first year brats.” He turns his head while shooing his hand dismissively.
Your eyes widen.
“Are you kidding me?! Do you know how much pressure I’m in? You are so selfish! You act like you’re the king of everything and don’t even give a damn about things around you! You’re being heartless!
“Just leave, you’re being an annoying mudblood but you don’t seem to be aware of that.”
“W-what?….” You say quietly and shocked staring at him.
“I said leave!” He says shifting back into his previous sleeping position turning away from you.
You look down and tears make their way fast down your cheeks.
“F-fine…I’ll go.” You say trying to sound like you weren’t crying but failed.
You turned on your heel and quickly made your way out of the botanical gardens without looking back.
When you left Leona instantly felt a weight on him….a feeling called guilt. He curses himself and shifts his laying position to him now laying on his back looking up. He couldn’t believe that he just disrespected the one he secretly fancied. He knows he’ll get a scolding from Ruggie later.
Azul Ashengrotto
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You and Azul were partnered for a potion project for Professor Crewel’s Alchemy class.
Many students didn’t like working with Azul due to his reputation, however, you were fine with working with him because you seen him from a different angle.
However with intelligence comes with a touch of arrogance.
Azul had a bad habit of being arrogant because of how intelligent he was. And just because you were friends with him, there was no exception.
You both were in one of the labs working on the potion
“Stop. Stop. Stop. You’re adding too much.” He says while blocking the top of the cauldron with his hands.
You look at him annoyed. He’s been doing this for the past 15 minutes. You were confident that you were following the instructions carefully.
“No I’m not.” “Yes you are.” “No.” “Yes.”
That went on for some time.
You were finally fed up
“Why are you so obnoxious, Azul? Why do you think you’re superior to me?” Azul rubs his temple annoyed. “That’s not the case. I’m just simply correcting you of your mistakes. That’s all prefect.” He says through his teeth.
“I barely make mistakes! I’m just as capable as you are when it comes to magic! Hell I’m just as skilled as you are!”
Azul then chuckles lowly.
“Why are you laughing?” You say with a hint of venom in your voice.
“Prefect, let’s not over-exaggerate and make unrealistic claims.” He says arrogantly as he mixes the potion.
“And what exactly are you implying?” He pauses and collects himself before he answers.
“Let’s just say you have a lot of room for improvement. Compared to you I am more gifted and boarder line perfect at my studies.”
You retaliated
“Well I can say the same for you.” He pauses and looks at you. “Oh? Do tell?”
“While you have intelligence you sure lack at physical education. Not exactly what I would call “perfect”. Azul’s eyebrow twitches when you mention the one subject in school he sucks at.
Physical education was a really touchy subject for Azul. He was constantly bullied because he was always in last place. He sucked at it when he was a kid, and he sucked at it now.
You smirk in satisfaction when you see his reaction and you continue to add ingredients to the cauldron.
“At least I’m not a headmaster’s lapdog!” He says in defense.
You stop what you’re doing and turn to him. “At least I’m not a scheming, lying sad excuse of a house warden who can’t let go of the past!”
“AT LEAST I’M NOT A FILTHY MUDBLOOD WHO DOESN’T BELONG HERE!”
You look at him with wide eyes.
Azul immediately realizes his mistake
“Y/n please I-.” He tries to walk over to you but you walk away. He hears faint noises of whimpers and sniffles coming from you. It was clear that you were crying. He sighs angry at himself
“Why did I do that?….now they’ll never love me back….”
Kalim Al Asim
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You two were hanging out in the Scarabia dorm lounge. Kalim had tea and snacks laid out and you both were talking for hours.
Kalim wanted to ask you questions about the world you came from
Some were easy to answer but some of them were on the touchy side. Such as “What were your parents like?” Or “Were you happy with your old self before you came here?” Etc.
You were slightly annoyed but didn’t say anything
Then suddenly Kalim asks
“Do you know why the mirror chose you? I mean after all your boarder line just a regular human with the exception of a little bit magical ancestry.”
This question made you set your teacup down. You didn’t know why. So many people asked you this question. You didn’t know why you were randomly taken away from a world you were content in. The more you thought about it, the less special you thought you were.
“I-I don’t know Kalim, can you please not ask me that again?”
Kalim looks at you surprised
“But why? It’s just a simple question.”
“No it’s not, just drop it okay?” You say averting your eyes
“Oh I should’ve known….mudblood’s tend to be really sensitive about their feelings.”
Now it’s to be mentioned that Kalim didn’t know what the word “mudblood” actually meant. All he knew was it was a term used to address muggle-borns. In fact he thought it was a new use of slang because he over heard some other pure-blood wizards use that term in class. He didn’t know that it would offend you.
You freeze and slowly meet his gaze
Kalim looks at you. “What?”
“Don’t you EVER call me that again!” And with that, you get up and angrily march your way out of the lounge passing Jamil on your way out.
Kalim looks at Jamil shocked. “Did I say something wrong?”
Jamil shakes his head disapprovingly while rubbing his temple and mumbles, “Why are you such an idiot?”
Jamil Viper
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You wanted Jamil to take a break. That’s all you wanted.
He was over-working himself because he felt obligated to. Even Kalim told him to take a break. But he simply wouldn’t accept it.
He wasn’t answering your texts and even calls, so you made your way to Scarabia
You searched for him everywhere until you caught sight of him making his way to his bedroom.
“Jamil!” I speed walked up to him and he meets your gaze with a tired and bored expression.
He exhales sharply. “What do you want Prefect. I’m quite busy.”
“That’s exactly why I need to talk to you. Why are you making yourself busy all the time? You haven’t been answering your phone.”
He rubs his temple annoyed. “And here I thought you needed something important……if you came here to waste my time, leave. I have no time for nonsense.”
He turns to enter his room but you grab his arm to stop him. “Why are you being like this. I just want to help-“
“Well you aren’t! So stop trying and leave! I don’t know why you would care about a servant like me!”
You were taken aback by his harsh response
“Is this what this is about?! I don’t care about your status!” You say. “I just want to spend time with you that’s all! You don’t have to be at Kalim’s side for every little thing!”
“WHAT WOULD YOU KNOW ABOUT MY SITUATION AND HARD WORK, YOU’RE NOTHING BUT A MUDBLOOD!”
Pause
You let go of his arm and take a few steps back
“Wait hold on I-.” Jamil tries to say, but you left teary eyed.
Jamil curses under his breath and goes into his room. His sits down on his bed and reflects on what just happened while putting his hands through his hair.
“Now they’ll definitely choose Kalim over me now…”
Vil Schoenheit
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“Honestly Prefect, do you always leave looking like this?”
Vil has been scolding you for the past ten minutes because of the state of your messy attire.
You were rolling your eyes because of how dramatic he was being. After all, it was just your tie being undone and there were just a few strands of hair out of place.
“Stop being over-dramatic, Vil. It’s not a big deal.”
His eyes widen in disbelief. “It is VERY much a big deal. If you’re going to be a Prefect, you need to look your best. Your academics not only reflect your dorm and school but also how well kept you keep yourself!”
He begins to fix your hair and tie but you were being uncooperative and moved a lot.
“Stop moving!” “Get your hands off me!”
He stops and looks at you. “So you would rather look like a filthy potato and have me just leave you like this?”
“I want you stop acting like you’re my mother!” You say defensively.
“Well if you dressed yourself properly, I wouldn’t have to!” He retaliates.
“Do you take pride in being a stuck up person?!” You yell back.
“And do YOU take pride in being an unfashionable mudblood?” He says calmly while glaring down at you.
You look at him shocked with wide eyes
His glare softens and he clears his throat realizing his rude mistake.
“Prefect….listen…” Before he could finish you take off.
Rook , who was listening to the whole conversation, of course, seen you leaving and went up to Vil.
“That was a very unbeautiful thing to say, Roi de Poison. You have to apologize.”
Vil exhales sharply, “I know….i just wanted to help…I just wanted to show them how beautiful they are. But they won’t let me…”
Rook sighs, “By calling them the forbidden word?”
Vil’s gaze is down
“At this rate….they’ll never give me a chance…I have to make it up to them.”
Idia Shroud
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You wanted him to leave his room. It was a very unhealthy life style in your opinion.
You guys always spent time in his room all because he didn’t want to leave due to his anti-social lifestyle.
Well this time, you wanted to change things a bit
You went to Ignihyde dorm, and you made your way to his room. You knocked on the door and he answered it.
“H-Hey Prefect.”
“Why don’t we hang out outside today. It’s a great cloudy day out.”
He pauses before he answers
“W-why?”
“Well, it’s different and you could get out more- “No.” He cuts you off.
“No? But why?”
He rolls his eyes. “In case you hadn’t noticed Prefect, I don’t do well with….outside.”
You cross your arms. “Well it wouldn’t hurt to try. Come on.” You take his arm and lead him outside despite his protests.
You both make your way outside of the dorm and go into the main court yard of the school.
“See? Isn’t this better?” You say with a smile.
He shakes his head slowly while looking at the ground.
You both go sit down on a bench and begin talking.
“Hey Prefect!” You look up and see Ace and Deuce. “Hey!” You smile and wave them over.
Idia rolls his eyes in annoyance. He hated interacting with other people, not only that, he was annoyed at the fact that Ace and Deuce always was interrupting your guys’s hang out time. Whether if it was showing up in person or texting. He was always jealous of them. Couldn’t they go one day without talking to you?
“So whatcha guys doing?” Asked Ace.
“Well we are just sitting here and talking.” You replied with a smile. “May we join you?” Deuce asked.
“Sur- “No.” Idia interrupts you. You look at him confused. “Huh?” Ace says. Deuce speaks up. “So is that a yes or- “It’s a no.” Idia says passive aggressively.
Ace and Deuce look at you confused. “Well…okay…see you later y/n.” Ace says awkwardly and leaves with Deuce. After they leave, you turn to Idia and glare.
“What the hell was that? Why did you do that?”
“Why do YOU feel the need to be at their aid every moment of every day?” He replies hostile.
“What’s your problem? Are you still mad at the fact that I made you come outside?” “No….its not that!” “Then what is it?! You’re being extremely weird.” “And you’re being an inconsiderate mudblood!”
“No YOU’RE the one who’s-….wait…what?”
He pauses and averts his eye realizing what he said. “Um…”
Your blood boils as you stand up. “Fine, you can go back to your room. I’m sorry that a mudblood like me wasted your time.” You hastily leaves the area.
“Wait hold on-.” He was left with his own thoughts. “……Ortho is not gonna like this.” He says quietly to himself.
Malleus Draconia
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Malleus wanted to spend time with you so badly. However, your rigorous schedule wouldn’t allow it.
He would always try to make plans with you, like getting ice cream together, going on nightly walks, or even studying; but you always politely declined
The more times you canceled, the more annoyed and angry Malleus got.
Well he had enough and decided to confront you late at night. He got Silver to tell you to meet him at the court yard.
Once you got there, you were met with a very angry dragon fae.
“Oh Tsunotaro, did you need something?”
“I’m not liking the fact that you’re being so casual about this, Child of Man.”
You look at him confused, you genuinely didn’t know what he was talking about, you were completely oblivious towards his words.
“Have I done something wrong?”
He exhales so sharply in frustration that you could’ve sworn you seen smoke coming out of him. You know that he’s extremely upset.
“You always decline my plans with you. And yet you have the audacity to be so naive about it. Not to mention, I see you around those first years, you claim that you’re “busy” but you’re spending time with them….” He glares at you with his arms crossed. Then it finally hit you, was he jealous?
“Tsunotaro, listen-.”
“No, I believe that it is YOU who will listen, Child of Man. I go out of my way to make some time with you and this is how you repay me?”
You get defensive. “YOU have to make time??? I have to make time for so much! You have no idea what my life is like! I’m sorry that you’re so clingy to understand, but I have a life too. And besides I wouldn’t exactly call my time with Ace and Deuce “hanging out”, I would call it “babysitting”, because that’s exactly what I do everyday! Babysit! So I’m sorry if you’re so clingy and needy to the point where you can’t understand that I can’t babysit and entertain you too!”
He takes great offense to your words. Is that really what you see him as? A somebody to entertain for a while and drop them whenever you felt like it?
He glares at you. “Perhaps Sebek was correct….all of you mudbloods are the same.” He says lowly enough for you to hear him.
Your glare disappears and you stare at him in shock. “W-what?…”
He averts his eyes in shame when he sees your reaction. The idea sounded better in his head than out loud. He just wanted to hurt your feelings so that you could feel what he felt when you ditched him all those times….he was so tired of being alone.
“F-fine then….” You say teary eyed. “I should‘ve known a pure-blood wizard like you wouldn’t be caught dead with the likes of me.”
“Child of man….wait-.” You ran off back to your own dorm. Leaving him there.
He gazes down at the ground. “What have I done…..they’ll never love me….”
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empress-simps · 3 months
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A Gryffindor's Grief
Pairing: James Potter x Fem! Slytherin! Reader
CW: Reader's family and language
Genre: Angst
Masterlist
Note: My first ever marauders fic! Kinda nervous to post this ngl… I'm still thinking if I should make a second part. I want to hear what you guys think about this! Requests are open! Photos used are from Pinterest! Credits to the owner!
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It was forbidden love, really.
Those little moments of not-so-accidental touches, stealing glances, and discreet smiles sent each other's way were your means of communicating with each other.
James Fleamont Potter, a Gryffindor boy that was absolutely smitten with You; Slytherin's Princess.
An odd combination that would only lead to chaos.
Being one of the sacred twenty-eight wizarding families meant that you command power and respect from everyone you meet— intentionally or unintentionally. The idea about blood purity, power, and influence was already in your mind as soon as you were able to grasp things your toddler brain could handle.
You were taught to only mingle with pure-blood families, people who could be useful and loyal to you, and those with power, influence, and wealth. Your family’s distaste for muggles and muggleborns were also ingrained into your mind, as if they programmed you to believe what they believed in. It wasn’t that hard, after all you were surrounded by rich witches and wizards who are blood supremacists.
For someone who grew up with those ideals and values, you thought it was right. Although, your belief came tumbling down the longer you spend time at Hogwarts and got to know James Potter and the rest of the Marauders.
James, he made you feel alive.
It felt as if he was the breath of fresh air that you never knew you needed. Away from that suffocating Malfoy Manor, the scrutinizing gazes of your family, and away from rich pure blood problems. Being with him felt exhilarating, he was the buzz in your life. James brought so much joy into your dark, lavish, and empty lifestyle.
It was quite funny, picturing him as your knight in shining armor, whisking you away from your pretty, gold cage.
"Malfoy!" Evan Rosier, a pure-blooded Slytherin raised his hand in your direction, motioning you to come over and sit beside him during breakfast in the great hall. Cold eyes like Lucius Malfoy's travelled in his direction, a questioning brow raised.
"Rosier, you are being too loud." She commented, walking, and sitting next to him before greeting the person beside him, Regulus Black.
"Good morning, Regulus."
"Good morning, Y/n."
Barty Crouch Jr. looked up from his meal and snickered at the both of you. "Good morning, Mum and Dad." He teased, greeting you both as Evan laughed along with the other Slytherins near them. Heck even Severus has a small smirk planted on his face. "If you wish to make your family line extinct, then please feel free to continue with your remarks, Crouch."
He smirked, putting his hands up in mock surrender "Just kidding, Y/n. Geez. Rough summer, I suppose?"
You felt your lips press into a thin line, an obvious answer to the question; It was horrendous.
Evan’s laughter slowly dies, he shakes his head, “Give her a break mate, she just got the biggest news of her life during summer. Isn’t that right Y/n-“
“Shut your mouth Rosier if you do not want to be hexed into next month.” Her empty threat really doesn’t do damage to Evan, he just shrugged, taking it as a warning that you’re not in the mood for jokes.
Your father, Abraxas Malfoy and older brother, Lucius Malfoy made a huge decision for your future. Hearing rumors here and there about their Slytherin Princess being romantically involved with a blood traitor in Gryffindor enraged your father, Abraxas. That will certainly not do, they will not sit idly and watch as the Malfoy name be... tainted with those rumors.
You remember how you felt dread entering your system, fighting the urge to run and throw up as you mustered up a façade, “Those are just baseless rumors, a plot to ruin my image in school." You held your head high, praying they do not see the truth.
Abraxas stared at you, his daughter, with a monotone expression. "Your brother and I do not care whether those ridiculous rumors are true or not." Lucius nods, agreeing. What a lie. You know your family well enough to not believe what comes out of their mouths in situations like this.
"We do not care if you had relations with the boy, even though it is rumored that he is a blood traitor, you knew well enough not to fool around with mudbloods. Well done, Y/n. Perhaps you could change his views, get him to join our cause.” Lucius looked at you. You could press your lips into a thin line, trying to find an answer.
 “That tactless boy's role is to only be a bed warmer for you, remember that Y/n." Your father stood from the chair he sat in the drawing room. Slowly walking towards you. “Although, I suppose it ends now. I heard Lady Walburga Black is looking for a potential bride to their heir, Regulus Black.”
After a week, it was official; You are to be wedded to Regulus Black, your friend, Sirius’ brother.
You could not do anything about the arrangement, what fight would you have put up? A young girl like you, who does not have any power, influence, and wealth could only suck it up and accept.
How you wish it was James you were betrothed to.
“James, you came.” You breathed out, seeing him take off the invisibility cloak. The moonlight in the astronomy tower complimented his features, he offered a small smile sitting beside you.
The stakes were high, you were sure underlings of your brother (and possibly father) in the school have their eyes trained to you as you enter another year in Hogwarts. You would need to find new ways to meet up with your lover. Regulus’ eyes discreetly looked towards James, who is undeniably looking at you.
“Wouldn’t want for my girl to be alone, you know?”
He joked, intertwining his finger with you, a second nature to the both of you. Squeezing his hand, you softly looked at him. “I missed you, pothead.” He leaned towards your face, kissing you on the forehead. One of the things he does that never fails to make you feel flustered. “I missed you too, love.” You rolled her eyes, slightly shoving him playfully, “Stop being sappy, Pothead.”
“You secretly like it, love. You can’t lie to me.” He grinned, although the last sentence made you tense up. James shot you a concerned look, noticing your body language. “Something wrong, love?” You were torn, deciding on whether you tell him about the engagement rather than keeping quiet and leaving him in the dark about your current situation.
“I got engaged.” Before you could even stop yourself, the words flew out of your mouth. Shit. It wasn’t how she planned to tell him. The light atmosphere suddenly became dark and heavy. You can feel James turn rigid, freezing up as he muttered. “So, it was true, huh?” He scoffed bitterly, hurt overtaking his features. “James…” You gently called, carefully placing a hand on his shoulder. He flinched, turning his body away from you.
She tried to ignore the hurt she felt, pushing it down as she understood why James was acting this way.  “Sirius told me.” He choked out, still not looking at you. James really does know you well, answering the question you haven’t even voiced out yet. The slight tremble in his voice made your heart crack. You bit your lip, of course Sirius found out; he was still a Black after all.
“I love you, James. I really do.”
You spoke to him, you raised your hand, about to put a hand on his back that was still facing you but deciding against it before it touched him. Your hands faltering before dropping down to your sides. He shakes his head violently, his curly locks getting messier than they already were.
“Don’t… Don’t say it like that, love.” He pleaded, slowly turning to face you again, eyes glistening with unshed tears. “Don’t say it like you’re about to leave me. This. Us.” He croaked; you felt his large hands placed on top of yours. He brought it up to his lips, kissing the knuckles.
“James…” You managed to utter out, voice getting caught at the throat.
James knew he was acting like a child, but damn- he never thought it could hurt this much. He pictured both of you marrying each other, living in a large house with a big backyard because he insisted it will be great for when you have kids. Merlin, he even imagined about 3 or 4 kids looking like the perfect mix of you both, running out and about with their names already carefully thought out.
out. He daydreamed that the both of you grow old, watching you tell stories to your grandkids about their grandfather’s mischief during your years at Hogwarts.
“I have to, James.” She chokes out, tears spilling onto her cheeks. Those four little words made James’ little bubble of happiness burst with just a bat of an eye.
“Don’t… don’t do this to me, love.” He pleaded; he even went down onto his knees as he saw you standing up from your place beside him. Poor James, luckily it was only you, the moon, and the walls of the Astronomy Tower watched him become a wreck.
“I love you, please remember that you will always have my heart, James. I wish you find happiness.” The part ‘without me’ was unsaid but was heard. It took a lot of courage, strength, and self-control not to fall apart. Deep down, you wanted James to say the same to you, proclaiming his love again for the last time you’ll be together.
“I love you Y/n, so much. No one will ever make me feel the way you did. I’ll find a way; a way for us to be happy together. I swear on my life.” He promised, looking at you straight in the eye. You could only close your eyes before smiling at him, trying to blink the tears away. Stars, you hoped James really does find a way.
“Goodbye, Potter.” She turns, walking away.
Maybe Slytherins and Gryffindors really aren’t meant to be together.
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mrsriddlenott · 4 months
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Ex!Mattheo Riddle x Muggleborn!Reader
Angsty asf,Break Ups, Language, Voldemort, Wizarding War.
Summary: You and Mattheo were just wrong for each other, destined to be ripped apart. He hurt you trying to protect you, and even apart is trying to protect you still, but he can’t think of everything.
“We’re done okay, I am done. I don’t want this anymore Mattheo,” You screamed as he stopped, shocked in front of you, “I can’t keep doing this.”
“What are you- you’re not saying….” You scoffed as he approached you again, stepping back so he couldn’t touch you like he so desperately wanted to. “You can’t be serious y/n we basically just started.”
“No we didn’t! That’s the fucking problem, we’ve been doing this for months and I thought it meant something to you and then I find out your friends don’t even know who I am??” You scoffed, rolling your eyes and crossing your arms as he tried to speak, “You wasted my time, if you wanted to just be fuck buddies I’d have been fine with that and I would have kept it a secret for you if you asked but you made me feel like…..” You laughed at your own stupidity as you turned away from Mattheo’s pleading eyes.
“Princess I didn’t just-“ You cut him off before he could finish, turning back around yelling as tears welled in your eyes, “You lied to me Mattheo, you said you wanted something real, you told me you wanted someone you could trust and that you had finally found someone and all along you were the untrustworthy one!” Mattheo’s hands fell to his sides as he tried to form words, but nothing would come out.
“Were you embarrassed of me?! Is that why? Did you feel like all your rich, perfect friends would hate you for being with me or did you just want me for fun until you needed to find the pureblood future wife your father expects you to have!?” You breathed heavily as you registered your words, his eyes shone with tears at the mention of his father and only locked on yours for a second before turning to your door and tugging it open.
Mattheo stopped, weighing the odds before turning back to you with tears in his eyes, “I’d much rather marry you….but that can’t happen because he won’t allow it. I guess we did waste our time after all.” And in a matter of seconds he was gone, from the dorm, the school, from your life, no one actually knew were he went but there were rumors he left to join his father’s cause, which you just couldn’t allow yourself to think were true.
It had been weeks since you last saw his face or heard his voice, after months of seeing each other in every second of free time it hurt to wake to the reminder that you were alone. But today was different, when you dressed and returned to your bed after a morning shower a neat envelope awaited your arrival, you recognized his hand writing immediately and tore it open.
Y/n, I’m sorry. I can’t take back what I’ve done now, when you hear it you’re going to hate me and the thought breaks me. Please don’t blame yourself because I had to, I could never let him hurt you and despite everything I did to keep you safe he found out about you. He made me do things I can’t say here, things I see in my dreams on nights you stray from them but I promise one day you will be happy and safe. I will give up my life to make it so.
Tears blurred your vision as you tried to fathom what Mattheo had done, what his father could have forced him to do. What he had done to protect you. You crashed to your knees, sobbing and wishing you could somehow get a timeturner to go back to that night, beg him to stay, apologize for being so stupid. Of course he had kept you a secret for your own protection, the son of Voldemort couldn’t be walking around with a Muggleborn Hufflepuff who could barley pass by. He had kept his friends in the dark so they couldn’t tell anyone, he had snuck you around the school, not because he was ashamed, but because he wanted you safe. You had to get him back, no matter what he did in his father’s name he was yours and you were his, always.
By the next week everyone had heard the stories, Muggle and Muggleborns being tortured, “traitors” to the cause being executed, you didn’t know if he was involved, not for sure but a part of you knew. There were signs, people whispering about a new lord in training, a new way for Voldemort to gain power using his son as a weapon. It wasn’t long before most of Mattheo’s friends had gone too, making it all the more obvious where he had gone. It hurt you more to know he was doing it for you, every name of the missing and dead reminded you it was all to protect you. You began to lose hope that you’d ever see him again, that he was lost, forever his father’s minion.
You sat with your back against the cold stone wall of the astronomy tower, letting the smoke of an un-hit cigarette waft past you as you lost yourself in a deep thought. You had been having trouble sleeping, imaging the awful things being done to Mattheo and by Mattheo was bad enough but it only got worse at night. You’d found yourself gravitating to Mattheo’s spot often these days, and you couldn’t stop yourself from wondering what life would be like in a few months. You’d be gone from Hogwarts for good, and who knew what that meant for you now, you had just begun to imagine leaving into the world alone when the sound of rushed footsteps caught you off guard, but not more than the voice that came with the halt of shoes on marble, “What the fuck are you doing here?! I thought you’d be in your dorm,” He spun around to watch the door, cursing to himself as though a plan had gone terribly wrong, and you supposed it had.
He looked tired, his hair disheveled with large bags under his eyes and his voice seemed different, harder, “You need to get the fuck up now and run, just go hide somewhere please if they see you they’ll” He was cut off by the sound of more boots quickly ascending the steps up the tower before he was grabbing you and aggressively trying to shove you into a closet too late.
“There’s the girl,” a gruff male voice shouted as the door swung open, “Knew if we followed you we’d find her.” Mattheo’s head hung as his voice broke, “no, no, I didn’t do it all for nothing.” He turned quickly, his arms out and blocking you body with his, “He can’t have her, I did everything he asked.”
“Clearly not since you’re here,” a second, larger man, cackled out, “Didn’t Daddy tell you to sit tight up in your mansion Pretty Boy.” The man laughed as though he was the funniest man alive as everyone stared back and forth, recognizing all four of us wouldn’t be leaving this room if things didn’t go as planned. “He can’t have her.” Mattheo spat again, with less conviction.
“Well you know the deal Handsome, and the Dark Lord is tired of waiting on your decision, you take the mark, we leave this pretty little thing alone and you never speak to her again….if not we have orders to make her death last awhile.” You flinched behind Mattheo’s muscular frame, not at your impending, excruciating death, but at the thought of Mattheo officially joining the ranks of the Death Eaters. If he had the mark there was no way out, no convincing the courts to spare him, even if he survived after all he had done that mark is a one way ticket to a Dementor’s Kiss. “No Mattheo you can’t”
Mattheo turned to you as your voice shook, tears falling down both your faces as he grabbed your cheeks tightly, kissing you as though you were air and he was hyperventilating. His head rested on your forehead as he thumbed your tears away, “I don’t have a choice Baby, I love you and I always will.” He tugged you into his arms, his lips next to your ear as he whispered low enough just for you to hear, “I am going to do everything in my power to come home to you, but I want you to live your life, when you get out of here run and forget me, become a Healer like you wanted and know I’m looking out for you.” He slipped away from you, leaving one final kiss on your temple before he was tugged from the room and from your life.
And you knew, from your safety, that he had taken the mark and would eventually take his father’s place as the Dark Lord if the war didn’t end soon. Maybe then, with all that power, he could end the war and return to you, a fantasy that gave you hope in the darkest days of the war.
384 notes · View notes
ahqkas · 6 days
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♯ HIS LOVE’S CREATIVE HEART ; mattheo riddle
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PAIRING! mattheo riddle x fem!reader
SYNOPSIS! the love of his life was a creative soul and who was he to deny your nature? (based off this req.!!)
WORD COUNT! 3.3k
WARNINGS AND TAGS! fluff, kissing, crafty reader, muggleborn reader, lovesick mattheo
NOTES! reblogs & comments are greatly appreciated <3
HARRY POTTER MASTERLIST!
© ahqkas — all rights reserved. even when credited, these works are prohibited to be reposted, translated or modified
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YOU'VE ALWAYS LOVED THE ACTIVITIES OF CREATIVITY. From a young age, you found joy in the simple act of making something with your own hands. Crocheting, with its interesting patterns and soothing repetition, was one of your earliest passions. There was something oddly satisfying about watching a ball of yarn transform into a cozy blanket or a delicate sweater under your fingers. Each loop, each stitch is a small act of creation. The rhythmic movement of the hook, the texture of the yarn slipping through your fingers, and the memories of your Grandmama were too cherished by you to forget them.
Baking, too, became a beloved creative outlet you shared with the sweet old woman. The kitchen was your laboratory, a place where you could freely experiment. You relished the process of measuring and mixing, the way simple ingredients like flour, sugar, and eggs could be transformed into a mix of flavors and textures. The smell of freshly baked bread or cookies wafting through the house was a comforting reminder of the magic you could create by your own hands. The process is both strict and freeing; one must follow certain rules, yet there is always room for imagination. A pinch of spice here, a dash of flavor there, and suddenly, a simple recipe becomes his personal favorite.
Painting, on the other hand, offered you a different kind of creative fulfillment. With a blank canvas before you and a palette of colors at your disposal, you felt a sense of freedom that was really exciting for your young heart. Each brushstroke was a gift of your inner world, a glimpse into your thoughts and emotions. Whether you were capturing the vibrant hues of a sunset or the delicate details of a flower, painting allowed you to see the world through new eyes and share your unique perspective with others.
In all these activities, you discovered not just hobbies, but a way of life. Creativity became a pair of sunglasses through which you viewed the world.
Your grandmama always believed in the magic of your creativity. From the time you were old enough to hold a crochet hook, she supported your talents with a guiding hand. Together, you spent countless afternoons creating intricate patterns and baking delicious treats in her warm home. Her kitchen became your comfort place, the rhythmic hum of the oven and the soft clinking of your crochet needles made you unbelievably happy. She celebrated each finished piece, every golden-brown loaf of bread, and every delicate painting as if they were masterpieces. 
When your Hogwarts letter arrived, the old woman was overjoyed. As a muggleborn, you were stepping into a world she could only imagine. "Think of all the magical things you will create," she had said, her eyes sparkling with pride. Though the idea of leaving her was haunting you, her open love made the thought easier. She promised to write often, and you did your best to send her letters filled with detailed descriptions of your magical adventures and the new wonders you were creating with your wand.
But letters could only do so much, and as the years went by, you missed the simple joy of her daily encouragement and the warmth of her presence.
Six years passed in a blur of potions, spells, and problem making. Your creative spirit never died, but the absence of your grandmama's physical presence was a constant ache that seemed to linger in the depths of your heart. It was around this time that Mattheo Riddle entered your life. He saw the passion in your eyes, the same spark your grandmama had always seen. At first, he was fascinated by your creativity, watching with awe as you seamlessly blended magic with your muggleborn talents.
01 - CROCHETING
The room was bathed in a soft, golden glow, the flickering light from the fireplace casting dancing shadows on the walls. The warmth of the fire created a comforting atmosphere, slushing off the chill of the evening. You and Mattheo were nestled on a plush, overstuffed couch, its worn fabric bearing the marks of countless cozy evenings like this one. The air was filled with the soothing crackle of burning wood and the occasional 'pop' of a log as it settled deeper into the flames. Evenings like these were your favorite. 
You sat cross-legged at one end of the couch, your crochet hook moving rhythmically through a skein of deep blue yarn. Each loop and stitch seemed to flow effortlessly from your fingers, years of practice and the love poured into the new project. Your eyes were focused, yet relaxed, as you followed the intricate pattern in your mind, your hands working almost of their own accord.
Mattheo sat at the other end, his body turned toward you, one arm resting along the back of the couch. His gaze was soft but concentrated, his dark eyes following the movements of your hands with a mixture of admiration and fascination. He loved watching you create; there was something almost magical about the way you transformed simple yarn into beautiful designs. It was a side of you that he cherished deeply, a glimpse into your soul that he was privileged to witness.
The common room was quiet, save for the sounds of the fire and the occasional rustle of yarn. Mattheo shifted slightly, leaning closer to you. "What are you making this time?" he asked, his voice low and warm, filled with genuine curiosity as his irises never left your movements. 
You glanced up at him, a small smile playing on your lips. "It's a blanket," you replied, holding up the growing fabric for him to see. "For my dorm. I thought it could use a bit more color and warmth."
Mattheo reached out, his long fingers brushing lightly against the soft fabric. "It's beautiful," he murmured lowly, his eyes meeting yours. "Just like everything you make." 
Heat crept up your cheeks at his words, and you looked back down at your work, your smile widening. "Thank you." 
As you continued to crochet, Mattheo's gaze never wavered. He was captivated by the way your fingers moved, the delicate dance of the hook and yarn. He loved these quiet moments with you, where time seemed to slow down, and the outside world faded away. Everything was okay for once again. 
After a while, Mattheo shifted again, moving closer until his knee brushed against yours. He reached out and gently took one of your hands, his touch warm and reassuring. "Can I help?" he asked, a playful glint in his eyes.
You laughed softly, the sound a sweet melody that mingled with the crackling fire. "I don't know," you teased, raising an eyebrow. "Have you ever done this before?" You knew the answer, but you wanted to mess with him a little bit.
His lips stretched into a grin at your words and his hand squeezed yours lightly. "I think I can manage. Just show me what to do."
You shifted closer to him, the blanket pooling in your and his lap. "Alright," you said, holding out the hook and yarn toward him. "First, you need to make a slip knot." You demonstrated the simple loop, your fingers deftly moving with practiced ease. Mattheo watched intently, his brows furrowed in concentration as he mimicked your movements.
"Like this?" he asked, showing you his attempt. It was a bit loose, but it held.
"Perfect," you praised the Slytherin boy, eyes sparkling with encouragement. "Now, hold the yarn like this and make a chain stitch." You showed him how to wrap the yarn around the hook and pull it through the loop. He followed your instructions carefully, his movements tentative but eager.
With each new step, you guided him, your hands occasionally covering his to correct his grip or adjust the tension. "You're doing great," you said, watching as he completed a row of chain stitches. "Now, let's try a single crochet."
Mattheo's initial awkwardness gradually gave way to a steady rhythm and his confidence grew with each stitch. He glanced up at you, a mixture of pride and joy in his eyes. "This isn't so bad," he admitted, a soft chuckle escaping his lips. Although his side of the blanket was a little more messy than yours, it was adorable to see him trying out your activities. 
You laughed, the sound filling his chest with warmth. "See? I told you. And it's even more fun when you get the hang of it."
The two of you continued working together, your hands moving in sync as you crocheted side by side. As the night wore on, you and Mattheo fell into a comfortable silence, the rhythm of your work and the steady crackle of the fire lulling you into a peaceful state of mind.
02 - BAKING 
It was well past curfew, and the usual bustle of Hogwarts had given way to a hushed stillness.
 You and Mattheo crept through the hallways, stifling giggles and casting glances around to make sure you remained unseen. Finally, you reached the entrance to the kitchens, a place where the house elves bustled about during the day and night, cooking and baking the delicious meals that filled the Great Hall every day. 
You tickled the pear in the portrait, and the entrance swung open to reveal the warm, inviting space of the Hogwarts kitchens. The room was a hive of activity by day, but now, in the late hours, it was quiet in here. The house-elves, always so helpful and friendly, had agreed to let you use their space for your baking adventures. Their big eyes (they were the size of a tennis ball!) and cheerful smiles greeted you as you entered, and a few of the elves lingered to offer assistance if needed, but most retreated to give you privacy, seeing you had arrived with your boyfriend, hand in hand.
The kitchen was vast, filled with long wooden tables, towering shelves stocked with every ingredient imaginable, and gleaming copper pots and pans hanging from hooks on the walls. The scent of spices and baked goods from the diner lingered in the air. The hearth, usually roaring with flames, was now a gentle glow, casting a warm light that added to the cozy atmosphere.
You and Mattheo set to work. "Alright, Chef Riddle," you said with a teasing grin on your face, helping him to tie an apron around his waist, "let's see if you can keep up."
He shook his head at you and offered you an arrogant smirk, his dark eyes twinkling with mischief. "Just try to keep up with me," he retorted, grabbing a flour sack with a dramatic flourish.
Rolling your eyes with a smile, you began gathering the ingredients for your chosen recipes. Tonight, you had decided to bake a variety of treats: cookies and pastries that had been on your mind for weeks. The house-elves had thoughtfully provided fresh ingredients, and the counters were soon laden with bowls of flour, sugar, butter, and eggs.
The first task was to prepare the dough for the cookies. You measured out the ingredients, your movements practiced and efficient, while Mattheo attempted to follow along, his competitive nature driving him to match your pace. 
"Don't forget the vanilla," you reminded him, adding a splash to your own bowl.
He nodded, carefully measuring out the extract. "Got it. How do you know so much about baking anyway?" he asked, his tone curious but impressed.
You shrugged, a smile tugging at your lips. "Years of practice with my grandmama. She taught me everything I know."
As you mixed the dough, the rich, sweet aroma filled the kitchen, mingling with the lingering scents of past meals. You stole a glance at Mattheo, who was diligently working beside you, his brow furrowed in concentration. His hands, usually so busy with his wand, were now covered in flour and sugar, a sight that made you giggle.
"What's so funny?" he asked, feigning offense but unable to hide his smile. There was no way he could. Your smile brought out the best in him. 
"You," you replied, leaning over to swipe a bit of flour onto his nose. "You're a natural baker."
He laughed, shaking his head. "Just don't expect me to start wearing one of those frilly pink aprons."
With the cookie dough prepared, you moved on to the pastries. Rolling out the dough, you instructed Mattheo on how to fold in the butter to create flaky layers. He listened intently, his usual loud temperament now tempered by a genuine desire to learn by your side. You worked side by side, your hands brushing occasionally as you passed ingredients and tools back and forth.  The house-elves had left a pot of hot cocoa on the stove, and you poured two mugs, the rich, velvety liquid a perfect complement to the cozy atmosphere.
"Cheers," Mattheo said, raising his mug to meet yours with a wink. 
"Cheers," you replied, clinking your mug against his. The cocoa was rich and creamy, warming you from the inside out.
As you wiped your hands on a towel, Mattheo’s deep gaze lingered on your face. "You’ve got a bit of flour . . ." he said softly, leaning in. His fingers brushed against your cheek, the warmth of his touch sending a shiver down your spine. 
His hand lingered there for a moment longer, his gaze dropping from your eyes to your lips. The playful atmosphere shifted, and the well-known tension filled the space between the two of you. Time seemed to slow as he moved even closer, his breath mingling with yours. Before you could fully process the moment, his lips were on yours, soft and warm, tasting faintly of cocoa and the sweetness of the evening.
You responded instinctively, your hands reaching up to rest on his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart beneath your fingers. He deepened the kiss, his hand moving to cup the back of your head, pulling you even closer than you were. The kiss was both gentle and urgent, warming your soul and mind. 
When you finally pulled apart, both of you were breathless, your foreheads resting together. The kitchen, with its warmth and golden light, felt like a different world, one where only the two of you existed. Mattheo’s dark eyes searched yours, a mixture of vulnerability and affection hidden in his irises.
"That was..." he began, but you silenced him with another quick kiss, smiling against his lips as your fingers gripped the hair at the back of his nape. 
"Perfect," you finished for him, your heart full to bursting.
In that quiet, golden-lit room, surrounded by the warmth of the fire and the comforting presence of your sweet boyfriend, you knew you had found something truly special. The baking, the laughter, the stolen kiss – it all came together to create a moment of pure magic, one you would cherish forever.
03 - PAINTING 
The art room at Hogwarts was a hidden gem, tucked away in a lesser-known corner of the castle not so many students knew about. It was a spacious, high-ceilinged room filled with the scents of paint and canvas, the walls adorned with student artwork from years past. The large windows let in the afternoon sunlight, casting a warm glow over the space. Easels stood ready with blank canvases, and tables were laden with paints, brushes, and palettes.
You and Mattheo had decided to spend the afternoon here, taking a break from the usual hustle of school life.
"Alright," you said, setting up your easel and arranging your paints. "Remember, every five minutes, we switch."
Mattheo nodded, a grin spreading across his face. "Got it. But don’t expect anything too impressive from me. I can barely draw a straight line."
You laughed, squeezing a bit of blue paint onto your palette. "That’s the fun of it. Just go with the flow."
With everything ready, you both took your places in front of your easels. The room was filled with a comfortable silence, the only sounds being the soft rustle of brushes on canvas and the occasional clink of paint jars. You started with broad strokes, laying down a wash of color to form the background. Your movements were confident and sure, years of practice guiding your hand.
Mattheo, on the other hand, approached his canvas with a bit more trepidation. He dipped his brush into the paint and made his first tentative strokes, glancing over at you occasionally for inspiration. You smiled reassuringly, giving him a thumbs-up. Despite his self-professed lack of skill, there was something endearing about the way he threw himself into the task, determined to make the best of it.
The first five minutes flew by, and soon it was time to switch. You moved to Mattheo’s easel, examining his work with a thoughtful smile. He had started with a simple landscape, a few rolling hills under a blue sky. It was basic, but it had potential. You picked up a brush and began to add your own touches, blending colors and adding a bit of story to the scene.
Mattheo moved to your canvas, eyes widening at the intricate swirls of color you had already laid down. "Wow," he murmured, "how am I supposed to add to this?"
"Just do your best," you replied, a playful challenge in your voice.
The next five minutes passed in a blur of color and creativity. You found yourself getting lost in the process, enjoying the way your styles melded together. When it was time to switch again, you couldn’t help but laugh at the changes Mattheo had made to your painting. The Slytherin had added a few playful touches, turning a serene sky into a playful scene with cartoonish clouds.
"Nice touch," you said, grinning at him as you moved back to your easel.
He shrugged, a sheepish smile on his face. "I figured it needed a bit of character."
As the afternoon wore on, Mattheo grew increasingly confident. With each switch, he added bolder strokes and more imaginative elements to the paintings. His hesitation gave way to a sense of pride and enthusiasm that was too difficult to not return. You found yourself enjoying the challenge of working with his unpredictable thoughts, the paintings slowly turning into mosaics of your combined efforts.
By the time the sun dipped lower in the sky, casting long shadows across the art room, you both stepped back to admire your work. The canvases were a glimpse of color and creativity, showing the teamwork you put into it. The landscape Mattheo had started was now a dreamlike scene, with white clouds and pretty flowers woven into the hills and sky. The painting you had begun was equally transformed, full of charm and ideas. 
Your boyfriend crossed his arms, a satisfied smirk playing on his lips. "Not bad for a guy who can’t paint, huh?"
You laughed, shaking your head. "Not bad at all. I’m impressed."
He tilted his head with a mischievous glint in his eyes. "Maybe I’m more talented than I thought. Perhaps I missed my calling as an artist." 
"Don’t get too full of yourself, Riddle. But I have to admit, you did better than I expected," you rolled your eyes playfully at him. That was your man, after all. 
"Better than expected?" he repeated, brows furrowed as he brought a hand to his heart. "I think you mean I was brilliant."
You reached up to brush a stray bit of paint from his cheek, your fingers lingering for a moment. "Alright, Picasso. I’ll give you that. You were brilliant."
His eyes softened, and he leaned in closer. "Thanks for teaching me. I had a lot of fun."
"Me too," you replied, giving his hand a squeeze. "We should do it again."
He nodded, his gaze lingering on your face. "Definitely."
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jamesandthedog · 9 months
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"She's cute, right?" James asks.
He's staring across the room.
Sirius moves his knight on the chess board and follows James' gaze. He laughs when he sees the red-head Lily Evans chatting with her friends on the other side of their common room.
"What?" James asks.
Sirius glances at him.
They're thirteen and it's the first time James really talks about girls. And even if girls and dates and kisses are new and not particularly something Sirius is interested in, he knows the rules. He was taught before he even understood what dating a girl meant.
"She's a Muggleborn," Sirius shrugs as he states the obvious.
"So?"
There's defiance in James voice, it reminds Sirius of the times he used to refer the likes of Lily Evans with much worse vocabulary. It was James and their friends to make him change his ways.
Sirius sighs.
"It's fine by me," he says, honestly. "But I doubt your parents would approve."
James frowns. At first Sirius thinks he's acknowledged the problem and trying to come up with a way to pursuit his crush without his parents ever finding out. And really, how could they, James doesn't have cousins to tell on him.
But it's not that. James looks at him the way he does when he's trying to read deep into his mind. Like James did when they had their first discussions about blood supremacy. Or when Sirius was walking funny after last summer break. He had hurt his back falling down the stairs after an argument with his mother, but that wasn't the sort of thing to discuss with... Anyone really.
James' expression clears, he leans back and makes his move on the chess board.
"Your parents want you to marry a pureblood," James states.
Sirius shrugs.
"Of course. Yours don't?"
"Dad would probably prefer if I'd marry a Muggleborn. She could teach him how to use the Muggle box he bought for warming up food," James says.
Sirius stares at him, and it has nothing to do with the said Muggle device. He'd look more surprised, but he learned to hide his feelings years ago.
He knows James' family thinks Muggleborns can do anything a pureblood can. But it's one thing to treat people equally on the streets, another to break something as holy as the pure bloodline.
Sirius had thought marrying a pureblood was given, a duty, a fact, something every pureblood did. But here he is, looking at the heir of the Potter family - an heir who clearly doesn't follow any of the rules Sirius had been taught since the day he was born.
As Sirius looks at James, he realises it looks like freedom. Not that Sirius even really cares about girls and marriage, but for the first time he sees that James truly has everything. Money, brains, parents who send him sweets and chocolate even when he doesn't ask for it. But more than that, James has options. He can choose his future.
"Are you ok?" James asks bringing Sirius back from his thoughts.
"Yeah." He answers before focusing on the chess board again. "But if I have to marry someone like Carrow and you get to choose, the least you can do is to lose the game!"
His knight eats James' horse.
"Hey, it's not that bad." James says comfortingly and moves his queen out of the way. Then he grins and Sirius knows he's up to no good.
"You can choose too. If you don't want Carrow you can always take one of your cousins," James suggests as sincerely as a mischievous pre-teen can.
The sofa cushion hits James before he has time to dodge, and then the chess pieces fly around as Sirius reaches over the sofa table to James.
When Remus Lupin descends to the Gryffindor common room a few minutes later, his two friends are a messy, wrestling and laughing pile of loosened ties and wrinkled ropes on the floor.
He shakes his head and sits on the sofa after removing a few misplaced chess pieces. He takes a fat book out of his bag and continues his day as if two wrestling thirteen-year-olds in his feet were nothing but an ordinary day.
As he reads Sirius launches from the floor to find a safe haven next to him - James knows better than to bother his reading. When the long haired boy leans his head against Remus' shoulder and shows his tongue at James, something extraordinary happens. Nobody notices, but the corners of Remus Lupin's lips turn into a smile behind his book.
Sirius Black has many things to learn and unlearn during his Hogwarts years. And dating girls - or not dating them - is definitely one of those.
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cherry-pop-elf · 8 months
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Oh sorry, I didn’t know. But how are you still in school if you’re an adult? The last year at school is when you’re 17/18 in most if not all schools for both magical and muggle students. Does Durmstrang have an extra year or something?
It’s more so I just started Durmstrang a little later, then most students. I had a lot of complications with paper work. Given both my parents are muggles, there was A LOT they had to do in order for me to be prepared for school. Meaning I was greatly delayed in arriving to the academy. My parents actually refuse to have me practice magic at home, if that helps tell you why and what happened. They hated the fact I was a wizard. They found it utterly terrifying. Even tried to hide it from fellow wizards. Which added another layer of complications to the mess. So I started school a bit late, because of major complications from my parents end. They don’t like magic, never really supported the concept of magic, and refuse for me to talk about it at home. I even often times become forced to wear a hat, in order to hide my hair. It’s…..Been rather crippling, not being able to embrace that important side at. Very much so. And also just the natural fact I am the first muggleborn to join the academy, which did NOT help either. But it was mostly my parents at fault, then the school itself for my delay in joining.
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danaewrites · 10 months
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you with the dark curls (you with the watercolor eyes)
part i: and while you were asleep, i was surely awake
james potter x reader // read it on AO3
word count: 2.8k
summary: “Falling in love with your best friend was never a good idea, but you’d managed to do the idiot thing anyway, carrying a torch for a boy who would never look past Lily’s emerald eyes to see the watercolor ones that had always been by his side.”
tags: best friends to lovers, angst with a happy ending, based on the song "dear arkansas daughter" by lady lamb, fem!reader
author's notes: hii y'all, sorry for not posting in a year :P my only excuse is that i didn't feel like taking the energy to actually write out my story ideas. also perfectionism. anyway i somehow wrote this in two hours while procrastinating my college app essays and have plans to make this a multi-chapter fic despite intending to write an angsty oneshot request for a completely different fandom (i see you, beloved anons, and i raise you this completely unrelated fic <3)… the brain of a writer works in mysterious ways.
read it all here: part i, part ii, part iii (coming soon!)
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You were in love with James Potter.
It was a fact of life, just like how the sky was blue, or that his favorite dessert was treacle tart, or that you were the only person he’d ever let see him cry besides his mother. You’d loved him from the moment you met him on the train to Hogwarts as a shy, anxious muggleborn unsure of the new world of magic and prejudice you’d been thrown into without so much as a warning. He hadn’t cared at all about your blood status- didn’t even think to ask about it. He had launched himself into your compartment and began talking at you a mile a minute, beaming with every tooth showing once he found out you were hoping to get into Gryffindor, his hazel eyes alight with the joy of making a new friend. And friends indeed you had become; you were proud to remember that you’d known him before Sirius or Remus or Peter did, though it took only an instant after the Sorting for him to become best mates with the rest of them, too.
You and James were inseparable from that moment on, giggling at Professor Binns’ failure to notice Sirius’ antics in the back of class and reassuring each other when home seemed too far away for comfort. He stole sweets from the Slytherin table for you at meals, and you covered for him when the teachers almost caught him pranking Snape– after all, who would believe that sweet, innocent Y/n would ever be involved in such shenanigans? The soft-spoken demeanor and love of everything pastel you’d thought would eventually oust you from the close-knit Gryffindor boys’ group proved to be quite the useful asset when affirming their ‘innocence’.
Not that they only wanted you around because you were helpful, of course. You had quite the talent for exaggerating stories until even Sirius fell off his seat laughing in disbelief, and your creative mind made for some glorious pranks and entertaining mistakes. Peter would blush for an hour straight if anyone mentioned The Great Plum Pudding Incident of Christmas 1974, all thanks to your clever meddling. And Remus– well, he was eternally grateful for your mother-henning during the worst of his moon cycles. You’d been the first to figure out his “furry little problem”, and upon learning that enjoying chocolate was his favorite method of escapism, showed up every month without fail with an armful of Honeydukes sweets. The little ways in which you loved each Marauder meant the world to them. They would do anything to protect you and make sure you were okay, James most of all. You often teased James that he was more bodyguard than friend, with his deep glares at too-forward Hufflepuff boys masking the big softie you knew he was underneath. You remembered fondly the summer days he spent chasing you around your house, scaring your mother half to death with his colander-and-pot ‘armor’ as he declared that as a chivalrous knight, he was meant to save Princess Y/n from the terrible Acromantula King. Privately, you thought James had a few too many Arthurian legends for bedtime stories as a child, but what could you do?
Even now, as sixth years, the bond between you and James never changed, your love for him ever-growing. Your heart melted every time you glanced over your shoulder in the hallway, only to find him chatting softly with a sniffling first-year and guiding them to Professor Sprout’s office for a hot cuppa and a biscuit. You cheered at his Quidditch victories and were euphorically lifted up onto his broad shoulders afterward, whooping as he galavanted through the common room in celebration. You were there when he needed a shoulder to cry on when his grandfather died, softly stroking his hair as he fell asleep in your lap with tear tracks still running down his face. And he adored you in return– braiding your hair while you worked on Herbology essays, racing you on his beloved broom when you stayed with him during the summer, distracting you from your rants about Slughorn’s unfair grading with a trip to the kitchens and a blissfully soft blanket.
James was your lifeline and you his– and nothing in the world could change that.
Except, perhaps, one tiny little complication. A complication with vibrant red hair, sparkling green eyes, and a natural affinity for Potions. A complication that had sparked your jealousy since the first time you noticed James glancing dreamily at Lily Evans in second year Transfiguration, jealousy that had only gotten worse with his grand declarations of love every week. He’d begun to announce his affection for the muggleborn to anyone who would listen in third year, and it didn’t stop there. No, when James Potter loved someone, he loved hard, and that meant that you had to watch as beautiful bouquets appeared on Lily’s nightstand nightly while the rest of the girls in your dorm whispered and swooned. You were a wallflower when he sighed about how lovely her skin was and how bloody talented she was at everything she did during one of your late-night chats in the common room, curling in on yourself with every word he spoke. When he asked her to Hogsmeade the first time (and the second, and the third, and the fiftieth), you observed as she rolled her eyes and shoved past him, despite the small smile on her face.
It wasn’t that Lily wasn’t smart or pretty or talented– far from it. She deserved every good Potions grade she got, and even the pureblood Slytherins begrudgingly noted how she was the darling of Hogwarts society. But you thought that the way she treated your best friend, refusing his advances quite harshly but sending him flirtatious glances and making a show of wearing his flowers in her hair, was rather unkind and misleading. She had James wrapped around her little finger and didn’t seem to want to let go of his attention anytime soon, despite Snape’s protests about how much time he was spending with her. You disliked Severus, but didn’t think he deserved Lily’s bad treatment either. Sometimes you’d see him staring at James and Lily deep in conversation, and shoot him a glance of communal disappointment– before realizing who you were sharing the moment with and resuming an expression of disgust, at least.
At first, you ignored your growing angst about his new obsession, chalking it up to sleep deprivation, stress over your upcoming exams, and even your monthly. But when you started to run out of excuses for the despair slowly overtaking your heart and flashes of his dark curls began to appear in your sweetest dreams, you were forced to admit that your feelings for James ran much deeper than a platonic friendship. From the way he spun you around in the snow to the way he snorted at Remus’ awful puns, you were head-over-heels smitten with your best friend.
The way he’d filled out since the end of fourth year hadn’t escaped your notice, either; you were pretty sure that his pecs should be considered a traffic hazard, with the way you’d fallen flat on your face after seeing him shirtless after a match. He’d rushed over to clean up every one of your injuries, of course, with a touch so gentle it released a whole menagerie of butterflies in your stomach. You’d barely managed to mumble a coherent thank-you before sprinting to take a very cold shower and scream into your pillow with embarrassment. How on earth did Lily Evans even think around him?!
Alas, you’d read your fair share of romance novels, and you knew how this story would end. Falling in love with your best friend was never a good idea, but you’d managed to do the idiot thing anyway, carrying a torch for a boy who would never look past Lily’s emerald eyes to see the watercolor ones that had always been by his side.
That was the state Sirius found you in, broody and lost in thought in a quiet corner of the library. He grinned rakishly, planting a well-polished boot on a nearby chair and leaning over to tap your forehead. “Lots going on in there today, huh?”
You snapped out of your daze and smiled sheepishly up at him. “Sorry, Siri, didn’t mean to ignore you. Just, er, thinking about my Potions essay, do you know how many uses there are for mandelwort? Quite fascinating plants, hones–”
Sirius winced and slid back far across the table. “Oh, no, you are not discussing horrid Potions work with me today when there are so many other wonderful topics.” He gestured to a table of swooning fifth-years gazing dreamily at his backside. “For example, those lovely ladies,” he crooned, sending an exaggerated wink towards them and smirking when they sighed.
You wrinkled your nose and scoffed. “Oh, please, as if I haven’t heard enough about your conquests already. I’m already scarred for life from your stories about that Belgium Veela, let alone the muggle sailor you nearly broke the Statute of Secrecy for.”
He waved a hand, dismissing your allegations of the mental injury caused by his excruciating attention to sordid detail when slightly tipsy in the common room. You made a mental note to charm his shampoo to turn his hair bright lavender for the next week for that little snub. Although, being Sirius, he’d probably just use it as an excuse to sway the rest of the Hogwarts population into going to Hogsmeade with him. “Ah, but darling Y/n, that’s what I’m here for!” He furrowed his brow and stroked his chin in mock consideration. “However, I can’t seem to recall a time when you–” here he poked you in the cheek for emphasis– “confessed to a little tete-a-tete in the hallway. Ever. Which means we have a problem,” he grinned.
You felt rather like prey being hunted for sport. “That would be because I’m not interested in anyone, you dolt!” Crossing your arms, you turned your face back towards your homework. Maybe if you denied romantic interest for long enough, Sirius would leave you alone and go flounce off to flirt with the noisy table of fourth years. “Anyway, I heard Marlene’s been circling Dorcas like a lovesick pigeon lately, so perhaps you should be putting your matchmaking efforts to her benefit instead.”
Sirius rolled his eyes. “C’mon doll, I know you weren’t actually thinking about Potions when I arrived. Who’s the lead actor in those fantasies, mm?” He snatched up your favorite pink gel pen, twirling around his fingers as he looked at you expectantly.
Drat. He wouldn’t be so easily distracted with the latest gossip. You opened your mouth to protest yet again when you caught a flash of red over Sirius’ artfully tousled locks. You watched as James strode up to the alcove where Lily and her friends were studying, transfigured a sheet of parchment into a butterfly clip and held it out to her with a grin. Her laughter pealed out through the library as she let him lean over her shoulder to place it in her hair. He seemed oblivious to the titters of the girls around him while he gazed at Lily adoringly. You felt your heart clench as you recognized the expression on his face; you’d seen it on your own in the mirror after spending time with James, after all. And it seemed like maybe Lily was finally starting to be swayed into accepting his starry-eyed proposals, if the pretty blush on her cheeks was anything to go by.
Sirius tracked your despairing gaze to the couple and immediately paled in realization. “Oh, shit.”
Shit, indeed. Your face turned bright red as you scrambled to pack your bag and leave the area as fast as you possibly could, not sure how you could face Sirius knowing your deepest secret now. The boy had no self-control, fueling the Hogwarts gossip mill with the wild stories he overheard, and he had even less discretion when confessing things to his friends around the common room fire. It’s no wonder he wound up in Gryffindor, you thought miserably. There’s no way he’d be able to keep a secret like the rest of the Slytherins, and definitely not from James. It would only be a matter of time before he let it slip about your feelings to the rest of the Marauders, and— well, you’d just have to face losing your best friend for good once he heard.
Sirius broke your train of thought by wrapping his hands around yours, looking up at you with concern. “Hey, doll, wait— I didn’t know—“
You sniffed and wiped the tears threatening to fall from your eyes away fiercely. “That’s exactly it, Sirius, you didn’t know because you won’t be able to keep it from James.”
He looked guiltily down at the table. “I’m sorry. I’ve been a bit of a git with keeping things private lately, yeah?”
You nodded, covering your face with your hands. Sirius reached out, placing them back down on the table, and softly said, “Listen, I shouldn’t have pried so hard. You don’t have to tell me anything if you don’t want to.” He broke off, pausing to scramble for a handkerchief from his bag to wipe off your rapidly disintegrating mascara. “And I promise not to breathe a word of this to James,” he finished.
You looked up at him, startled. “Are you serious?” At his answering grin, you groaned. “Don’t answer that. But really, are you sure that you’ll be able to resist telling him everything?” You fiddled with the now-soiled handkerchief and whispered, “You two are so close, I don’t want to drive you apart. If James thought you were hiding something important from him, it would destroy him,” you sniffed.
He frowned. “Doll, you know you’re just as important as James is to me, right?” At your answering slump, his jaw clenched and he continued on with more intensity. “You’re like my sister, Y/n, there’s nothing you could do to make me care for you less. Especially not asking for your privacy. Clearly, I haven’t been treating you as well as you deserve if you doubt that.”
He walked around and took a seat in the armchair next to you, pulling you in to lean on his shoulder. “And I can be discreet, you know. I might not show it often, but growing up in a family of the most intensely secretive purebloods ever to exist taught me a few things.” You glanced at him doubtfully, the tiny quirk of your mouth the only sign that you were joking. “Hey, I’m being serious!” He laughed, then quieted suddenly. “This thing with James— you really love him, don’t you?”
You gave him an exasperated look out of the corner of your eye. Sirius released a breath and gazed deeply into the space in front of him. “Hey, we’ll figure this out together, okay?” He poked you in the side. “If he’s too focused on the smell of Evans’ hair or whatever to see that he already has the perfect girl in front of him, he’s not as smart as you think he is.” You giggled slightly, his words warming you. Sirius smiled, happy to see you cheering up a bit.
“Why don’t we go raid the kitchens? The coolest person I know once told me that elf-crafted mint chocolate chip ice cream is the best way to heal a broken heart,” he teased. You groaned, remembering how you’d told him that as a last resort to get him to stop complaining about how he missed his sailor ex-boyfriend every time you two went to Hogsmeade. At least your random advice wound up benefiting you now, you thought as you collected the last of your stationery and exited the library.
Neither you nor Sirius saw how James watched you smile up at Sirius as you walked away, holding his arm and laughing loudly at something he muttered. Anna Dumotier, a Hufflepuff fifth-year and one of Lily’s friends, would remember later that night how he seemed to tune out Lily’s voice for a moment and stared at the doors to the library with a strange expression on his face. His brows were furrowed like he was trying to decipher the answer to an unfamiliar puzzle, his eyes widened with confusion and a glint of something she could only identify as jealousy before Lily brought him back to the conversation with a graceful flip of her hair. But no— she shook her head— that couldn’t be right. What could James possibly be jealous of when he finally had the girl of his dreams in his arms?
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read on: part ii
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writingwithcolor · 10 months
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Afro-Latine Jewish woman maintaining cultural connection in an isekai comic
Anonymous asked:
Hello! Mixed Latin American nonbinary Jew here. I'm working on a, relatively light-hearted, isekai-style fantasy comic concept of an afro-latine Jewish lady who gets sent through a portal to a colorful scifi/fantasy land, inhabitated by various imaginary creatures sorta like in Alice in Wonderland. She gains magic powers and goes on adventures, working as a scientist researching the land's magical energy. (some of the local creatures she befriends are entirely original species, and some are inspired by my local folklore, but otherwise I try to avoid culturally coding the creatures since they're mostly nonhuman looking). The story isn't supposed to touch any heavy topics like antisemitism or racism, but I've read about the cultural problems in ""normie protagonist finds a new home in a funky fantasy world"" stories, f.ex. how Harry Potter's narrative basically implies that Muggleborns have to abandon their original cultures in order to successfully integrate into the very prejudiced but ""cooler"" Wizarding World. My original goal was to break the mold that escapism fantasy usually revolves around white protagonists adventuring in heavily Western-inspired fantasy worlds, and poc-coded characters are usually nonhuman creatures or racial stereotypes. However the protagonist girl in my story comes from a loving, latine-jewish human family, and while she regularly visits them on Earth instead of just staying in the fantasy land 24/7, I'm afraid that making her story be about being happy adventuring in a separate imaginary land filled with nonhuman characters might turn into an ""abandon your family and culture"" narrative. Are there any ways how I could avoid this? Maybe making the fantasy land's worldbuilding and designs more Latin American or Jewish inspired and thus resonate more with her cultural background, or making it clear that the land is not ""perfect"" and she still loves her family?
One of the first things that stands out to me is that you haven’t set her up to need to abandon her culture in order to make a life in another place. She has the ability to go home and visit her family, but I also don’t see any reason why, if she lives primarily in the fantasy land, she couldn’t be portrayed as practicing Judaism actively in her new home. It’s true that Judaism isn’t solely defined by religious/cultural practices, but it’s also true that religious/cultural practices are one of the most recognizable and most uniting elements of Jewish identity.
I think it might help in this case to think about Jewish practices in terms of communal versus personal: that is, what are practices she would need to seek out a Jewish community for, and what are practices she can do independently?
Does she control when she is able to visit her family? If so, visiting for Jewish holidays so that she can be at a family meal or holiday services seems like a way to highlight that she is just as connected to her family as someone who moved to a different city might be. If she experiences/has experienced the death of a family member or partner, going home to be with a Jewish community for shiva or to say kaddish on a yahrzeit is another touch (for readers who may be unfamiliar, Jewish mourning practices are intensely communal and are intentional about bringing the mourner into an active support system and slowly reintroducing them to the world, and as such a mourner is likely to spend this time somewhere where they can access and be supported by a Jewish community).
As far as practices she can engage with on her own in the fantasy setting, it would be nice to see her observing Shabbat, either in a traditional way by refraining from adventuring and instead engaging in hospitality and prayer between dusk Friday and sundown Saturday, or in a less-halakhic way if she comes from a Reform or comparatively-assimilated background, by marking Friday sunset with candles, blessings, and a good meal, even if she is intending to continue her research through the next day. She would hardly be the first Jewish person to live in a place without an established Jewish community, and a festive meal can be shared just as happily with non-Jewish friends if they’re griffons and fauns as if they’re Christians and Muslims.
Here’s one idea that I think would be hugely meaningful as a way of establishing both that she intends to make her home long-term in Fantasy World and that she intends to carry Jewish traditions with her into her new life: hang a mezuzah.
Think about it: a mezuzah is the visual marker of a Jewish home, as much to the resident as to a guest. When she is home from her adventures, in her garden cottage or enchanted tower or wherever she returns to between adventures to record and categorize her research, simply showing a mezuzah in the background instantly makes the point both that she is intending to stay, and that this is a Jewish space. If as time goes on she adds other Judaica items to her space, it can add to the sense that her Jewishness is present and alive in this world, simply because she is present and alive in it.
If she doesn’t have a settled space or if you’re not planning on setting any scenes there, having Jewish visual markers on and around her can help, too. For low-hanging fruit, maybe she has a silver Jewish Star or chai necklace that catches the light now and then, but since you’re going for a light, fun vibe, maybe she’s packing her adventuring supplies in a bright-blue vinyl backpack emblazoned with “Temple Shaarei Tzedek Junior Youth Retreat 1998” (am I old? I’m pretty sure there are adults reading this who were in Junior Youth groups in 2003, but I’m willing to bet retreat swag hasn’t changed that much).
I do like the idea of including Latin American and Jewish elements in the worldbuilding, especially as an intentional way to combat the cultural dominance of Western European folklore over fantasy writing, but because your character is from and has access to our world, you have the beautiful opportunity to carry real-world markers of Jewishness with her as well.
-Meir
I adore Meir’s answer, but then, I’m the kind of person to whom “enchanted tower with a mezuzah” as an aesthetic is so near and dear to my heart that I wrote a whole fantasy series about it. Couple of random suggestions: one thing I really enjoy is exposing my gentile friends to Jewish food—I love watching the absolute shock of delirium hit someone’s face the first time they taste my charoseth. Imagine this little bowl of chopped apples and walnuts, looking vaguely dirty because they’re soaked in cinnamon-infused wine, so it’s basically dingy beige slop….so that first bite of sensuous, deep sweetness is a huge surprise. Pick your favorite equivalent and imagine the first time a centaur or a winged princess or whatever other fantasy character tries it at your MC’s behest! (Feeding brisket to dragons would make a great name for…something…)
I don’t think you’re likely to do this anyway but since these are public answers: “fantasy world fun, Jewish upbringing a chore” is a narrative I would not feel at home in or care to read. But that’s a rather predictable remark from me anyway ;)
And of course I support the “the secondary fantasy world is actually Jewish” solution too, having one of my own.
–Shira
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arliedraws · 3 months
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The laws for underaged magic in the WW are so damn inconsistent. In OotP, the Order members and Harry have to fly from Privet Drive to Grimmauld Place on broomsticks because if someone performs magic around an underaged wizard, the Ministry can detect it, and THEN two seconds later, someone puts a Disillusionment charm on Harry. So WHAT is the RULE??? How does the Trace work???
It’s occurring to me now that I personally find it interesting if one were to apply an equity lens to the Trace as a way to keep Muggleborns behind in magical schooling. Part of Harry’s problem with underaged magic is that he gets in trouble for violating the Statute of Secrecy by performing magic in front of Muggles, and because there are no other wizards in Little Whinging, the Ministry can attribute any use of magic to the underaged wizard who lives there. Because the Trace is activated when anyone uses a spell around a magical child, I believe R*wling says that in wizarding homes, it’s simply up to the parents to patrol their children’s use of magic.
Considering this, one can see why Muggleborns would fall behind their pureblood peers in academics. We see this in the real world how the summer disruption of learning can set back many students who have been systemically disadvantaged in contrast to affluent peers who attend summer camps and study with tutors during the break. So if you have Muggleborns who aren’t allowed to practice magic because it’s against the law and the Ministry has a built-in detector for such, you’ve got pureblood kids who can use magic all they want at home if their parents don’t care (or perhaps even actively encourage their children to practice).
Of course, this contributes to further disparities within the magical community. You’ve got students who’ve grown up in this world and don’t have to waste time learning the culture, AND they have the privilege of at-home practice. Then you have Muggleborn students who are thrust into a foreign culture with new vocabulary and expectations/customs who, when they return home, cannot legally cement the physical practice of magic they just learned. When it comes to exams in fifth and seventh year, this discrepancy would absolutely lead to an overall imbalance of scores. Pureblood students would, on average, perform better on exams which would grant them higher positions within the Ministry of Magic, and in turn, they would maintain the laws regarding underaged magic that served them so well, thus preserving conditions that make the false notion that “Pureblood wizards better at magic” appear to be true.
In any case, I still don’t know how the Trace really works because the books are inconsistent about it, but it’s an inequitable law. Anyway, I think it’d be interesting to explore more!
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allyeardepression · 5 days
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@jegulus-microfic | june 1 pride | words: 896
“Have you heard that Amelia ran into Regulus Black and Dorcas Meadows on the Astronomy Tower last night?”
“What? Is he cheating on Pandora than?”
“He’s with Pandora? I swear I saw him snogging Lily Evans in the library the other day.”
“Bullshit, she’s muggleborn; his parents would kill him if they found out!”
“Yeah, but he’s still Sirius’ brother, so Regulus is probably as rebellious as him.”
Such conversations were everything Regulus could hear lately, as if his dating life were any of other people's business. He knew it was all made up, and he ignored them, even if they became louder and louder every day.
It wouldn’t bother him that much if he was a casanova who craved such rumours about himself. But he was not a casanova; he didn’t even care about women in that way; he much rather preferred men.
And that was the problem, wasn’t it? If he said it to anyone besides his friends, he would be eaten alive—first by his classmates, then by his family. Even if the wizarding world didn’t care about who was sleeping with whom, Regulus was still one of the heirs to The Most Ancient and Noble House of Black—of course, his coming out as gay would become the biggest scandal of the century.
All of this to say, he kept his mouth shut and let people talk shit about his love life so his everyday life was safe.
“You know,” James said one night, when they laid on Regulus’ bed cuddling. “If they’re bothering you, we could start some nasty rumour, like that you have chlamydia.” The younger boy chuckled at that.
“I think I’ll pass; I prefer them talking about me like I’m some kind of slag,” he replied softly, brushing hair from James’ forehead.
Regulus felt good and safe while with James. He wished he could feel like that all the time, but only the thought of holding his boyfriend’s hand in the corridor full of people made his guts turn.
So, he made peace with people talking about him. It might’ve been irritating, stupid, and untrue, but he preferred it over whatever would come after those people found out about his actual relationship.
It went on for most of his fifth year—in the daylight he would be presumed fuck boy who had every girl at Hogwarts in his bed; at night he became a little twink in love with the Gryffindor’s Golden Boy.
One day in June, during dinner, some older Slytherin girl waved at him to come to her.
“Go on, Reggie! I wonder what she would want from you,” Barty snickered, pushing Regulus in the girl’s direction. The funniest thing was that Barty knew about Regulus and James' relationship, but he still liked to put the younger boy in situations like this that only fueled the rumours.
He strode off, stopping when he reached her.
“Hello,” he said coldly, “can I help you with anything?”
“Hi, yes, actually,” she answered excitedly. “So, we were wondering which of Meadows, Rosier, and Evans you’re dating. Would you be a darling and clarify it for us?” She finished her question, obnoxiously batting her eyelashes. He didn’t even know her; why would he even want to clarify anything to her?
His eyes went to the other side of the room, spotting that lovely smile of his boyfriend’s. He wished he could point at James and say, ‘That one, I’m dating that one’. Oh, how he wished he could just—
A quiet voice in his head whispered, ‘The only one stopping you is yourself; just go’. He considered it for a second.
Ah, fuck it.
Regulus cleared his throat and looked at the girl with a mean smile. “Yes, actually, I could clarify it for you,” and with that, he turned on his heel and walked away in the direction of the Gryffindor’s tabel.
He could hear his heart pounding, feel his hand shaking a little, and his face turning red more and more with every step, but he wasn’t a coward; he wasn’t backing down now. When James turned his head in Regulus’ direction, his face went pale, like he was seeing a ghost. But Regulus still wasn’t backing down.
In no time, he reached the older boy and, without thinking, pulled him by the neck to kiss him thoroughly. And when their lips collided, it was like nothing else mattered. Even when James needed a second to register what was happening and relax, it was the best thing Regulus had ever felt. And when his boyfriend’s hand touched his cheek and the other one grabbed his thigh, the world around them collapsed, and there were only the two of them.
After another minute (or hour, who knows), they pulled away to get some air, and that’s when Regulus noticed it—James eyes were sparkling with so much love and pride that Regulus could only giggle like a lovesick eleven-year-old. In return, James chuckled softly, caressing the other’s cheek gently.
And then it got to Regulus what he just did. At first, he felt like he might be sick, but a second later, that quiet voice from earlier said, ‘Fuck it, you’re free now’.
And on that note, he looked up at the girl on the other side of the room and shouted, “Is it clear enough now?”
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star-rises · 29 days
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I’m endlessly curious about Andromeda’s interaction with privilege in the wizarding world. She walks away from her family to marry a muggleborn and casts herself out from the epicentre of power, but how much does she still hold as a pureblood witch? She might no longer be welcome at the country houses of the Sacred Twenty-Eight, but when facing down some middling Ministry official or a half-blood family she’s still a Black. How much does she lean into that?
As far as we know she doesn’t provide any support for Sirius when he runs away from home nor does she try and get him out of Azkaban. She doesn’t seem to play any part in the First War at all. I think all of this could be justified under an explanation of her cutting herself off from the wizarding world entirely in order to protect her family, but that kind of disconnect doesn’t make sense when Tonks not only goes to Hogwarts but becomes an Auror. So does that mean Andromeda doesn’t have any power or resources to lean into, or just that she doesn’t care about Sirius, or a bit of both?
Then there’s the fact that Auror is the profession Tonks pursues. For someone to choose to be part of upholding such a problematic institution, she has to be normalized to wizarding society’s power structures - enough to accept them, or maybe not question them at all. So that makes me envision an upbringing where Andromeda said her family were the problem, not pureblood power and privilege in itself. (And there’s a whole other conversation in there about the pressure of gender conformity and internalized homophobia that Tonks grapples with tbh.)
Don’t get me wrong, I’m a huge Andromeda fan. I actually think these gray areas are what make her fascinating. Like Sirius, she straddles contradictory worlds, and both benefits and suffers from wizarding social power. I think there’s a lot to dig into there.
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hibiscusfairys · 9 months
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🐞 draco malfoy ; unrequited love, part 5 (hufflepuff fem reader)
♪ a lots gonna change : weyes blood
part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4
♡ warnings: angst
tagged: @miawastakens @watercolorskyy @pinkynecktie
also to the last person who requested to be tagged, im so sorry but i cant seem to find your blog when i try to tag it :(
by the way a reference to the last chapter, i realised adrian pucey is two years older than harrys year, so for the sake of it not being weird just pretend he was a year older than us
You cried all night.
You didn’t know if whether you had swayed him, or distanced him from you even more. Each passing thought that involved him had only provoked your yearning tears. By the end of the long evening, your pillow was wet with the heartbreak and sadness you wept for him.
You were stupid enough to believe he was for you. The muggleborn girl and the pureblooded boy with a family full of blood supremacists which he was surely influenced from — yeah, right. What a foolish imagination you must have.
Dawn had rolled around, and your quiet sobs had eventually stopped and morphed into your sleep. The bright light of the sun shone through the fogged window, reflecting onto your hair. Your yellow duvet covers were spread everywhere, and the mascara you had worn from the ball before had stained your pillow like watery, black ink.
You rose up from your slumber, increasingly light headed from all the thinking you had been doing all night. It was time to finally get on with your life, and leave this all behind. Your feelings for him would have to disappear, soon enough.
Your ball dress was still on, and was crumpled from the action of tossing and turning restlessly in your bed.
A letter was positioned unknowingly on the windowsill. You noticed that the window door was open, the cold air hitting your face like a vent. You saw that a midnight feathered owl with amber eyes as bright as streetlights perched on the sill, looking at you with its pupils dilating.
Eagerly, you opened the letter, hoping it to be from your parents. They had only just figured out how to use the owl. But the envelope looked too classy, too posh even. Nothing like the basic white envelopes you’d usually see.
It had a certain family emblem on the black seal.
Ripping the top of the envelope, you lifted the mysterious letter from the pocket. You had almost instantly recognised the handwriting, as you had seen it in your potions class not too long ago. It was Malfoy’s.
The words were carefully carved with ink on the parchment, and ink smudges seemed to be far less of a problem for him to prevent than it was for you. Using a quill and proper ink was still something to get used to, even if it had been 4 years. You anxiously let your eyes scan the page, a lump forming in your hoarse throat from all the sobbing. To….
I apologise for my previous behaviour last night
I understand that I may have upset you. This is quite new to me actually. I’m too wrapped up in myself to recognise others problems, if I am being honest.
However, while I still stand by what I said about us not working out, I do want to create a compromise with you. And before you ask, I’ve dealt with Astoria. It was entirely difficult for me to tell her. And to be honest, I am feeling quite down. But I’m still so confused on where my heart is leading and I don’t want to lead her on either. She’s one of the only people I care about. Except for my family and some others which I won’t name.
If you are so desperate, it will have to be a hidden secret between us. If I ever eventually decide to let myself love you, while the guilt might weigh heavily on me, I am not afraid of it. It is quite dismaying knowing that you aren’t a pure-blood like I am, but I want to learn to be more tolerant at least. And I’ll try to be more open. But don’t let a word slip out. I’m sorry if I am asking much. I should really not ask you of anything, but I can’t help it. I’m still adjusting to this. I thought it would be so easy, love. But it’s not. Sometimes we fall in love with the wrong people. But I don’t want to label you as wrong. Rather — unexpected. My family will surely be disappointed, so it’s why I’m so hesitant. But it’s a risk I am willing to take for my heart to finally be at rest. It has been tugging on me for weeks.
Do answer me later. Moreover, maybe I can explain it to you better in person.
Draco Malfoy
You saw your tears melt onto the paper. Different emotions poured through you like a rainfall, you felt excited and happy, but also unnerved. It disappointed you that he couldn’t accept you in the first place.
You found out your quill and a pot of ink.
To Malfoy,
Thank you for your letter. I am glad that you’ve explained to me your feelings. Sometimes writing it down makes everything better.
But please, do accept me as I am. I don’t want to pressure you into doing something you won’t find comfort in. Plus, it would put me in danger too. I don’t know what your family is like, but I don’t want to entrust them just yet.
However, I do feel similarly. Maybe we could try it.
I’d be glad to keep it a secret for you.
From…
You finally signed your name in one swoop of your quill.
“Hopefully..” You say to yourself, handing the addressed envelope to the messenger owl.
thank you all so much for reading this fic, i appreciate all the support youve given me so much and im excited to write more future ones for you soon ♡
also im sorry if the ending seems quite rushed, i had no idea what to do and i didnt want to keep anyone waiting too long :( ill try to improve on this in the future and hopefully, not pressure myself too much with releasing chapters
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