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saintsenara · 11 days

Note

Riddle’s extremely fearful and aggressive reaction to Dumbledore when he thinks he’s a doctor (and the fact that he assumes this at all and believes he is being lied to) has some pretty dark implications (which of course no one follows up on). Do you have thoughts?

thank you very much for the ask, anon!

and yes - this has occurred to me too... which means that my thoughts come with a trigger warning for the sexual abuse of a child, and are under the cut.

the relevant scene in canon is, of course, this:

“I am Professor Dumbledore.” “Professor?” repeated Riddle. He looked wary. “Is that like doctor? What are you here for? Did she get you in to have a look at me?” He was pointing at the door through which Mrs. Cole had just left. “No, no,” said Dumbledore, smiling. “I don’t believe you,” said Riddle. “She wants me looked at, doesn’t she? Tell the truth!” He spoke the last three words with a ringing force that was almost shocking. It was a command, and it sounded as though he had given it many times before. His eyes had widened and he was glaring at Dumbledore, who made no response except to continue smiling pleasantly. After a few seconds Riddle stopped glaring, though he looked, if anything, warier still. “Who are you?” “I have told you. My name is Professor Dumbledore and I work at a school called Hogwarts. I have come to offer you a place at my school - your new school, if you would like to come.” Riddle’s reaction to this was most surprising. He leapt from the bed and backed away from Dumbledore, looking furious. “You can’t kid me! The asylum, that’s where you’re from, isn’t it? ‘Professor,’ yes, of course - well, I’m not going, see? That old cat’s the one who should be in the asylum. I never did anything to little Amy Benson or Dennis Bishop, and you can ask them, they’ll tell you!”

the surface-level reading of this scene - which is clearly what the text wants us to go for - is that riddle thinks he's about to be institutionalised for being "mad" - and, specifically, that he thinks that what dumbledore has been told is his "madness" is actually his magic.

[he is also clearly meant to be read as panicking a little bit that he's fucked around torturing his fellow children and is now about to find out...]

that riddle accepts he's a wizard so easily - and that he is so reassured by dumbledore agreeing that he's not mad - is something the text wants us to read as sinister. him immediately describing himself as "special" is set up as a precursor to the adult voldemort's delusions of grandeur - which the entire arc of the series, ending in his death as an ordinary man, is designed to undermine.

but i've always disliked this reading. the eleven-year-old riddle - a magical child raised around non-magical people - is objectively correct to describe his powers as "special" [in that they make him identifiably different from the crowd] within the context in which he lives. the word choice is nowhere near as deep as dumbledore decides - he's clearly known since he was very young that he's a wizard, but he didn't have the precise language to describe this fundamental part of himself until dumbledore offered it; prior to that, "special" is a perfectly reasonable alternative term.

and, in always knowing that he's a wizard, he also knows that he doesn't have a mental illness - but he must also know that this is something it's near impossible for him to prove.

in the real world, if i spoke to a patient who told me:

“I can make things move without touching them. I can make animals do what I want them to do, without training them. I can make bad things happen to people who annoy me. I can make them hurt if I want to.”

then i would be correct to describe them as experiencing psychosis. and i might - depending on their other symptoms - have reasonable cause to admit them [voluntarily or not] for psychiatric treatment.

riddle is - of course - demonstrably not psychotic. but it's not unreasonable that mrs cole would assume he is - the world she lives in, as a muggle [even if she's a religious one], is one in which people do not possess the ability to move objects or control animals with their minds, and if one of her charges is convinced that he can, then she's justified in seeking medical intervention.

[that psychiatric treatment in the 1930s can be described without exaggeration as inhumane is another matter...]

which is to say, i think we can easily suppose that mrs cole has - prior to dumbledore's arrival - succeeded in having riddle "looked at", and that the idea that he's mentally ill and should be committed to an asylum has been mentioned before. i think most of us would be instinctively [and angrily] wary of doctors if this happened to us, regardless of how nice the doctors in question were.

and maybe that's all there is to it.

and maybe it isn't...

in the doylist text, the eleven-year-old riddle's personality is the way it is because he's the villain of the series. where harry is preternaturally capable, even as a child, of all the things the series defines as admirable - above all, enduring difficulty without complaint - riddle is preternaturally incapable of them. he's meant to come across as unambiguously sinister - and the fact that the text repeatedly emphasises that he has control over his unpleasant traits invites us to view him as someone who is acting with full agency. that he lives in an orphanage is a trope which the text uses, like a campy horror film might, predominately to underscore how creepy he is - and the text, in keeping with its general lack of interest in states and their institutions, never really prompts us to interrogate the impact of his childhood upon the course his life takes.

[this is despite the fact that voldemort's reliving of the night he killed the potters in deathly hallows is an incredibly accurate depiction of ptsd...]

but it's also the case that the eleven-year-old riddle's behaviour and personality fits a pattern we might expect to see in a child who is being abused, sexually or otherwise:

he's aggressive, he has a hair-trigger temper, and he becomes distressed even by behaviour - such as dumbledore speaking mildly and calmly - which would not ordinarily be expected to provoke such a reaction.

his broader emotional state is fractious. his mood changes sharply, he seems to feel emotions very profoundly, he struggles to control his emotional response to things, he's extremely easily irritated, he's attention-seeking - and he particularly seeks negative attention, and he's very highly-strung. his admission in deathly hallows that he feels calm before he kills - or before he otherwise eradicates a threat or a problem - comes with the flip-side that he's someone who appears, when things aren't going well or he finds himself in a situation which he can't control, to become quite anxious. which is a trauma response.

he's extremely isolated. the text presents the fact that he has no friends as a deliberate choice - "lord voldemort has never had a friend, nor do i believe that he has ever wanted one" - and his relationship with everyone else he ever meets, including his fellow orphans, is defined by the text as exclusively involving him controlling, manipulating, and punishing them. or: he is always the more powerful person in the pairing. but this need for control can be read as self-protective just as easily as it can be read as sinister. there are hints in canon that riddle is not just some malevolent force in the orphanage preying on mild-mannered innocents. for example, billy stubbs, the owner of the rabbit he kills, is targeted by riddle as revenge: “Billy Stubbs’s rabbit... well, Tom said he didn’t do it and I don’t see how he could have done, but even so, it didn’t hang itself from the rafters, did it? [...] But I’m jiggered if I know how he got up there to do it. All I know is he and Billy had argued the day before." on the rare occasions billy turns up in fics, he's usually - i find - written very like neville - sweet and guileless and a bit pathetic. but the alternative reading - especially when we take into account that riddle attacks the rabbit rather than billy himself - is that billy is someone he would be afraid to physically confront. indeed, it's striking that voldemort - at all stages of his life - is described as being quite physically fragile. not only is he very thin, but he's always cold and his heartbeat is described several times in canon as irregular. i think this is supposed to be a comment on the physical changes he undergoes the more horcruxes he makes - although the idea that the soul would affect the heart doesn't actually align with how the series understands the soul to relate to the body - but it can also be interpreted perfectly legitimately as something he was experiencing prior to splitting his soul. i am committed to the headcanon that riddle was quite a sickly child - and that this is one of the things which drives his fear of death - and i'm also committed to the idea that his obsession with magic is because the enormity of his magical power makes up for his physical lack. he can defeat - and humiliate and frighten and remove the threat of - billy or dennis [or even an adult man?] with magic. without it, if they were to physically overpower him, then he wouldn't be able to throw them off.

he is extremely nervous about being alone in a room with dumbledore - someone he doesn't know, and who he assumes is connected to a profession [and, maybe, who knows any other doctors he's been previously made to see...] of which he is frightened.

he doesn't trust or confide in anyone - which, as a child, means particularly that he doesn't trust or confide in adults in positions of responsibility. he's clearly uneasy with the idea of finding himself in the subordinate position in an adult-child relationship when dumbledore offers to take him shopping for school supplies - potentially because he's worried that dumbledore will try and dictate or restrict what he's allowed to buy unless he behaves in a certain way... and i am always very struck that dumbledore says in half-blood prince: "He was very guarded with me; he felt, I am sure, that in the thrill of discovering his true identity he had told me a little too much. He was careful never to reveal as much again." this is presented in the text as evidence that dumbledore is the only person of whom voldemort is afraid - by which the text means that voldemort acknowledges that dumbledore knows that an ordinary man, mortal and unimpressive, lurks behind the mask of unassailable power he has created for himself; and which the text thinks is a good thing. but we can also read it as a self-protective act on riddle's part. in his excitement, he offers dumbledore information [that he is known to be a liar, that he is in trouble a lot, that mrs cole dislikes him and is disinclined to believe anything he says] which would give dumbledore - or anyone in a similar position of power and presumed respectability - cover to abuse him, safe in the knowledge that he would be unlikely to be believed if he reported it.

he doesn't appear to feel safe in the orphanage and he's frequently absent from it - by his own admission, he spends a huge amount of time wandering around london on his own, which may even involve him staying away for several days at a time. nobody appears to notice or care about this.

he's very independent - which the text again presents as evidence of his deliberate self-isolation and rejection of the bonds of love and friendship - and his independence is unusual for a child his age [i.e. that he is capable of doing all his own shopping for school].

his knowledge of violence - i.e. how he designs the trip to the cave to be maximally psychologically devastating for dennis and amy and devoid of repercussions for himself - is also more advanced and methodical than would be expected in a child of his age. again, the text uses this to emphasise how inextricable the child-voldemort is from his adult self - and also, to some extent, to underscore the intellectual brilliance [his magic is also more advanced than is normal for a child] which his narrative archetype [the exceptional villain who is defeated by the everyman hero] requires. but we can also read it as evidence of his own victimisation. a common sign that a child is being sexually abused is that they display a knowledge of sexual behaviour which is more advanced than is reasonable for a child of their age - for example, knowing in detail how a sex act is performed, or fluently using sexual slang which they have no chance of knowing either from age-appropriate settings like school-based sex education or conversations with a parent or trusted adult, or from the sort of enthusiastic hoarding of rude words and phrases all children enjoy as they grow up. riddle's precise, clinical knowledge of how to manipulate, frighten, torture, and control can be seen as something similar. if he can - at eleven or younger - methodically break down another child until they're "never quite right" again, then this is because he's learned how to from someone.

he keeps secrets. and he also goes out of his way to extract them. his grooming of ginny in chamber of secrets - he manipulates her into confiding things she wants to keep to herself, promises he won't tell anyone, and then uses the threat that he will to get her to do his bidding - is an absolutely textbook example of how abusers use the idea of secrecy to control their victims. it doesn't make his abuse of ginny any less inexcusable if we assume he learns this from being on the other side of things.

dumbledore understands his little cache of objects as trophies he's taken from victims - and the text takes the view that dumbledore is correct in this assessment. that hoarding trophies is something widely associated with serial killers means that this is yet another thing which underlines how creepy - and how like his adult self - the child-voldemort is. but it's also the case that the adult - and teenage - voldemort places a lot of emphasis on gift-giving as part of his control over other people. the two most obvious examples in canon are wormtail being given his shiny hand as a reward for helping voldemort get his body back, and slughorn being buttered up with crystallised pineapple before voldemort asks him about horcruxes. the text thinks this is sinister - and one of the reasons it does this is because gift-giving is a grooming tactic. the text also clearly thinks this isn't behaviour voldemort has learned from the other side. and yet a common sign that a child is being abused is if they have possessions it doesn't make sense for them to own [i.e. a child from a low-income background who is suddenly decked in designer clothes] and which they can't or won't explain how they came by. riddle's cache isn't luxurious - although he's so poor that a yoyo or a mouth organ probably is a luxury to him - but there's also nothing in canon which precludes the objects being presents, rather than stolen goods. if the spell dumbledore uses to make the box rattle is caused by a statement which is both relatively ambiguous and dependent on dumbledore's subjective personal morality - is there anything in this room he's acquired through nefarious means? - then the spell would still work as it does in canon if riddle was an abuse victim given the objects as "rewards". dumbledore's tendency to locate right and wrong in the individual and dumbledore's belief that good people should steadfastly endure misery means he can be written entirely canon-coherently as someone who would think a victim who appeared to collude in their own abuse - such as a victim who "offered" a sexual act because their abuser promised them something if they did - was behaving consensually, manipulatively, and nefariously. and it's worth noting that when riddle doesn't know what dumbledore has done to make the box rattle, he is "unnerved". when he realises dumbledore thinks he's stolen the objects - and that he has no interest in forcing him to admit this aloud - he is "unabashed". perhaps because he's just received proof that an experience he doesn't want to talk about is still secret...

on the other hand, the objects could indeed be stolen - because petty criminality and anti-social behaviour, especially in pre-teen children, is also a sign of abuse.

he can be extremely obsequious - when dumbledore tells him to watch how he speaks he becomes "unrecognisably polite", he ruthlessly flatters slughorn, and he is cringingly deferential to hepzibah smith. the text understands this as evidence that his apparent charm is only superficial - another trait associated in the popular imagination with serial killers [and it's striking that so much about the young voldemort - handsome, charming, seemingly quiet and polite, true evil lurking underneath the mask - is exactly like the pop-culture persona which has been created for ted bundy...]. voldemort himself agrees that his charm is performative in chamber of secrets: “If I say it myself, Harry, I’ve always been able to charm the people I needed. So Ginny poured out her soul to me, and her soul happened to be exactly what I wanted." but his obsequiousness is also a fawn response - a way of minimising a threat by attempting to please the person issuing it. he becomes "unrecognisably polite" - after all - in response to this: Dumbledore raised his eyebrows. “If, as I take it, you are accepting your place at Hogwarts - ” “Of course I am!” “Then you will address me as ‘Professor’ or ‘sir.’ ” Riddle’s expression hardened for the most fleeting moment before he said, in an unrecognisably polite voice, “I’m sorry, sir. I meant - please, Professor, could you show me - ?” riddle could reasonably interpret what dumbledore says here as a threat to prevent him attending hogwarts - even though dumbledore evidently doesn't mean it in this way - and he switches to being fawning because this is something he really doesn't want to happen...

do i think that any of this is what the text was actually going for? no. and nor do i think that reading riddle as a victim of abuse excuses the violence which the adult voldemort goes on to perpetuate.

but i think it is a reading of his characterisation which is both canon-plausible and interesting - a strange, sickly child with a reputation for cruelty and dishonesty being abused by the respectable doctor who is constantly called in to treat his coughs and wheezes, who buys him little presents and charms him into telling him secrets, who then [to paraphrase the teenage voldemort] feeds him a few secrets of his own, safe in the knowledge that nobody will ever believe him if he tries to get help.

and i also think this a reading which is sincerely important.

a significant contributor to the prevalence of child abuse - no matter what exact form this abuse takes - is that we are culturally conditioned to imagine that both the abuser and the victim will look and behave in a certain way if the abuse is "real".

and this means, all too often, that we take child abuse more seriously when the victim is "sympathetic" - when they're from a stable home, and their family are respectable, and they do well in school, and they're polite and sweet, and they look innocent, and they behave perfectly appropriately for their age, and nobody would ever dare to say that they come across as older than they are, and they're white, and they don't have a history of lying, and they don't have a history of attention-seeking, and they don't have a criminal record, and they're not abusive themselves, and there's absolutely no way of suggesting that they colluded in their abuse, and the perpetrator was someone who looks like a child abuser.

someone who is creepy, low-status, ugly, unpopular. someone who everyone can tell is socially abnormal, someone who nobody would ever intentionally permit to be around their children. not someone who is charming, well-respected, attractive, rich, popular, trustworthy. not someone who has a loving family and a happy home. not someone we might be friends with.

but many perpetrators of child abuse are these second group of people. and many victims of child abuse are "unsympathetic", when their social positions and reputations are compared to their abusers' own.

they lie. they steal. they're attention-seeking. they're vindictive. they have trouble distinguishing between imagination and reality. they're violent. they're bullies. they hurt animals. they abuse other children. they take drugs. they're mentally-ill. they come from broken homes. they're in the care of the state. they're dirty. they're poor. they're odd. they're behind at school and badly-behaved in the classroom. they do things which allow their abuse to be dismissed as something they brought upon themselves - they speak or dress in certain ways, they pose provocatively in pictures and post them on the internet, they are known to be sexually active outside of the context of their abuse, they lie about being over the age of consent, they engage in sexual behaviour with an adult abuser in a way which appears [even though it isn't, and there's never a circumstance in which it will be] to be consensual or for their own personal gain, they are flattered by the attention they receive from someone who is important or attractive grooming them, they have complicated - and not always wholly negative - feelings towards their abusers.

and they are still - unequivocally - victims, and what happens to them is still - unequivocally - abuse.

tom riddle is an unsympathetic victim - not only of any potential abuse, but also of the horrors of his life which are explicit on the canon page: that he is raised in an orphanage; that he is grieving; that he knows nothing about his family; that he is thought to be mad.

the absence of any institutional response to his childhood experiences - dumbledore, by his own admission, discloses nothing about riddle to his fellow teachers - is a flaw repeated again and again in the worldbuilding of the harry potter series.

hogwarts - and the wizarding [and muggle] state more broadly - doesn't intervene in any case of neglect or abuse, from harry to snape to voldemort's own parents. the series' individualistic morality means that we aren't supposed to interrogate these collective failings. and the series' black-and-white view of good and evil - and its general belief that violence is fine if the person it happens to "deserves" it - means that it has no interest in examining the ways that poverty, isolation, and neglect are risk factors; that straightforwardly unpleasant people can still be victims; that victims can go on to become perpetrators without their victimhood ceasing to matter; and that the abuse of children usually takes place not in silence and secrecy, concealed in ways which make it fine for adults not to notice it and not to intervene, but in plain sight.

this is knowledge it never hurts to refresh. thinking about lord voldemort's childhood might be an usual way of doing so... but it is an effective one nonetheless...

#asks answered #asenora meta #tom riddle #lord voldemort #if wizards had the concept of safeguarding it would be a game changer...

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radiance1 · 6 months

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Vlad owned a cookbook.

Keyword, owned.

But you see, it was far from an ordinary cookbook.

It was a bit magical in nature, not on any purpose of Vlad's part, despite being the one to make it. It was created a while after Vlad stopped having an obsession with Maddie and became on somewhat better terms with Jack, in which he decided to entirely ignore one Daniel Fenton.

Instead, he focused on creating the perfect cookbook that has ever graced the mortal plane. Made from the highest leather, the best finest paper and bound together with the best thread he could find.

All helpfully sourced from the Ghost Zone.

Of course, after all of that he had to, well, fill it with recipes.

He had multiple duplicates scouring the internet for various recipes, and since it's for personal use he doesn't have to care for copyright or whatever since it won't be used by anyone but him. While also looking around in the Ghost Zone for specific types of ghosts.

Mostly grannies.

Overtime and with help from his multiple duplicates his cookbook has quickly become filled up, though for some reason there seemed to be an endless number of pages left unfinished, doesn't matter since it's just more space.

Then he started to encounter the spirits of witches, wizards, warlocks, shamans. You get it.

He took recipes from them too, because when he meant this would be the greatest cookbook, he meant it, and what is potion making if not Alchemy, and what is Alchemy if not cooking?

So, after some time, with blood, sweat, and tears being poured into his book with recipes from everywhere and his own personal recipe along with few decorations here and there, making it look less like a common book and more like the prized treasure it truly is, and Vlad's work is finally complete.

The greatest cookbook to ever grace the mortal plane.

He went to sleep happy, woke up the next day happy, used his newfound cookbook happily and was overall having the greatest of times.

He also found out that his cookbook became sentient. Which is nice, because he can just call out a page and it'll flip right through to it, but he doesn't recall how it became sentient.

He's been watching it carefully before completion, and every time it came in contact with ectoplasm it never became sentient like the food the Fentons produce (And yes, living food is indeed within the endless pages of his book), so it maybe had something to do with the more magical recipes contained within.

Not that he cared, really, since it served it's purpose extremely well.

Except, a few months later, with a visit from the Fentons to his mansion, he finds he lost it.

Vlad, predictably, is in shambles.

Is it because his cookbook is a genuine danger to society if in the wrong hands?

No.

Perhaps because contained within its pages are high level alchemical recipes?

No.

Or maybe because there was a recipe to create some kind of potion to kill an immortal, make someone immortal, or reverse death? (Honestly he didn't even remember where he got that one)

Fuck no.

He's in shambles because he didn't even get to use a quarter of the recipes that weren't even his own.

Also, because it's became his technical technically both his son and best friend.

Who does he accuse first?

One Danny Fenton.

Because it only disappeared after Danny came to visit, and while he wouldn't put it past Jack to do something incredibly stupid, the man was nowhere near his book at the time!

Danny, predictably, is not at all amused.

Vlad then pesters him to go out and search for his missing greatest creation and doesn't stop until Danny agrees.

So, now Danny has to find a cookbook that can and probably is a genuine danger to society if someone decides to use the far less than normal recipes.

Also, why the fuck did Vlad even have them??

#dc x dp #dp x dc #dp x dc crossover #dpxdc #dcxdp #dc x dp crossover #Hmmm #I could already feel some people tagging this as Ghost King Danny since that's a really popular hc #or maybe not #Anywho #I was going to refute that hc but now I'm genuinely considering it #Mah #I'll leave it up to whoever finds this post #Right #Did I mention that Vlad's Cookbook may or may not have a recipe to create #both a false and genuine god?#Teehee #You won't even know if I'm being serious or not

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universalitgirlsblog2 · 5 days

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🧼✨️GLOW UP GUIDE🧼✨️

🧼PHYSICAL GLOW UP

This is inspired from Glow up blueprint video by Dear peachie. Dear peachie will help you to achieve the ultimate physical glow up

.First of all, get to know your features. People who have facial features with accurate facial proportions , stronger symmetry ,brighter colours , defined lines look better in the static image whereas disproportionate facial ratio , poor symmetry , dull complexion , uneven structures can affect how one looks in static image.

Look at the glow up pyramid. Every level is interrelated to each other and is equally important . The elements at each level serves as the foundation which steps towards a higher level. The overall aspects may get affected if insufficient attention are given to fundamental levels.

Celebrities always appear gorgeous and sophiscated because they play attention they have invested a fortune and massive efforts in the detail that ordinary people never thought of.

There is a Chinese sayings which says one can recognize a beauty from 10 meters away. From a 10 meters distance, we cannot see the beauty looks like , her facial features and make up is blurry. However , we can see her body shape , posture , hair , clothing style. If we maintain 2 to 5 meter social distance , the focus point is skin , face shape and overall proportions. Body type , posture , clothing , hair , skin , face shape and overall proportion forms the impression of the body.

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- Rub ice on face

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- Workout !

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MORE TIPS BY MOI !

- Try mewing, you will get high cheekbones and sharp jawline.

- Get regular trims and hair scalp treatments.

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- Accessories to spice up your outfits !

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- Apply Vaseline on eye lashes .

- If you want to appear taller and slimmer, then wear high waist jeans and crop tops . ( This tip may vary from one body shape to another )

✨️MENTAL GLOW UP

- DEVELOP SELF - LOVE. Be disciplined. Care for yourself . Cherish yourself. Love yourself no matter what.

- Listen to Guided Meditations and Podcasts

- Adopt the " OK and ? " or " So what? " mentality . They were talking behind your back , OK and ? They don't like you , OK and ? You tried something new and failed , So what ? They left you on seen and ghosted you , So what ?

- Adopt the " You are You , I am me " mentality.

- Listen to the wizard liz , Tam Kaur , Simone or Alessia.

- Watch good content. You are what you consume. You have control over it. Don't watch videos which are full of drama and negativity . Watch productive and educational videos.

- Meditate ! You will become more mindful and self- aware.

- Become selfish! No , don't use people for your own benefit but put yourself first. Posts you should read to understand it better ! - click me , click me !!

- STOP BEING A VICTIM ! YOU ARE THE CREATOR OF YOUR REALITY !!! YOU CONTROL YOUR REALITY , NOT THE OTHER WAY AROUND !!!!

- Don't seek validation from others , don't listen to other's opinions . Others opinions are irrelevant.

- Watch documentaries. Read books .

- Cut off toxic people ! This is so important. If someone drains you , puts you down , always nitpicking or complaining about you or other things . Distance yourself. It doesn't matter if you know them in real life or if it's online friendship. It doesn't matter if you knew them for a decade .

- You don't need to share everything with your Close friends.

- Say affirmations out aloud while doing skin care infront of mirror or in your mind.

- Act like the person you want to become.

- Don't chase , attract

- Know you are the main character.

- Don't allow others to use you or treat you like a doormat.

- Be more organized.

- Don't compare yourself with others.

- Don't depend on others for your happiness .

- Journal.

- Try shadow work

- Have hobbies

🍥ACADEMIC GLOW- UP

-Being intelligent is hot. Prioritize your education.

- Find a reason to study. Do you want to top your exams ? Do you want to make your parents proud ? Do you want to be the smart kid ?

- Find a role model . It can be a fictional character or celebrity . Check this post to find some inspiration - click me !

- Your reason to study should be bigger than your distractions.

- Watch fayefilms and studyquill , they always have the best study tips.

-Teach your friends , family or even pet . You will be able to revise the concepts better. If you get stuck while explaining , you would know that the topic is not clear to you yet.

- Use Mnemonics

- You can use the SQ3R method. SURVEY. QUESTION. READ . RECITE . REVIEW.

- Romanticize being smart. Romanticize studying.

I hope this post helps you too - click me !

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hometoursandotherstuff · 6 months

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Wood carver Glen transformed his truck into a Lord of the Rings-inspired home and has spent over 5 yrs. living in the woods in his home on wheels.

Outside it looks like an ordinary truck. He’s named his van Radagast, after the brown wizard in Lord of the Rings.

His wood carving skills are exquisite. Love the ivy he incorporated.

Look at the intricately carved kitchen. The ceiling is cool.

There's a sofa, a table, and a sleep loft.

In the sleep loft.

Wood-burning stove for heat.

There's also a bathroom where a black dragon holds the toilet paper.

He sells his art at fairs.

The dragons illuminated at night.

#lord of the rings van #wood carver #lord of the rings decor #other stuff

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euphoniumpets · 2 months

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From another world | Sebastian Sallow x reader x Ominis Gaunt [ 2/? ]

Pairing: Sebastian Sallow x reader x Ominis Gaunt

Summary: You woke up feeling disoriented, wondered where, how and why you came across in a city. That's when you saw that the city and Professor Fig was real and in front of you and that's how you knew that you were in the Harry Potter world. You didn't know why, but you knew that you had one goal in your mind and that was to stop Sebastian Sallow from murdering his uncle and give him a second chance in life. And perhaps it was the reason why you ended up there to stop more than one life.

A/N: my tag list are still open if anyone wants to be tagged in this series! Just comment down below or send in to my inbox.

CHAPTERS: one - two

Warnings: smut can come across further in the series, some sexual references, violence, blood and gore.

After the Sorting Ceremony, Professor Weasley had guided you through the knock to your house. You knew that this was all a dream and that you would go back to your real life.

However, when morning came, it all seemed that you were stuck in the Harry Potter world. You had no idea how you would go back to your old life and why you were here. So many questions and it seemed that you were all alone in this one before the trials would be started on your ancient magic journey.

You knew that you have to figure this out, but first, you needed to attend your classes firt and you knew that you would meet Sebastian.

After you had settled into your new house, you heard one of the student calling your name. ''You must be the new fifth year!'' A cheery voice called out as you walked out of your dormitory. You turned around and saw a small female brunette walking towards you. You guessed it must be Poppy Sweeting.

You knew about who Poppy was and she was your favorite character and you couldn't help but feel over protective over the small girl. ''Hi,'' You greeted her. ''I'm glad that we have a new hufflepuff, I hope that you're enjoying our common room,''

''I am,'' You chuckled. ''My name is Y/N L/N,'' You introduced yourself.

''Poppy Sweeting, I have a feeling that we're going to be close friends,'' She spoke. ''Professor Weasley had approached me to say that she's waiting for you outside,'' Poppy informed. ''Thank you Poppy, I'll go and see her,'' You replied.

''See you sometime!'' Poppy spoke before you said your goodbyes.

You walked out of the Hufflepuff common room and spotted Professor Weasley standing in front of the entrance. ''Good morning, I trust you'd ready for your first day at Hogwarts?''

''I've been dreaming of this day for a long time, can't believe I'm here,'' You stated. It was not a lie after all.

''Well, you are here, make the most of it, you only have one first day at Hogwarts,'' Professor Weasley spoke. ''Now, In light of your unique situation, joining us as a fifth-year, you'll need to catch up with your classmates, and not fall behind,'' She spoke with a stern voice.

''Especially as you'll be expected to complete your O.W.L.S at the end of the year,''

''O.W.L.S?''

''Yes, your Ordinary Wizarding Level exams, they will determine what type of career you can have when you leave here, after much discussion with the Headmaster and the Department of Magical Education at the Ministry, we've devised something extraordinary to ensure your progress,''

Professor Weasley then conjured a book. ''Here you are,'' She spoke and handed over the book to you.

The book then suddenly flipped open, revealing all the pages inside before falling back into your hands.

''What is it?'' You asked with curiosity. ''It is a wizard's fields guide, it will help you to keep track of what you're learning so that you master all that's expected of a fifth-year,'' Professor Weasley explained.

''You would be wise to take full advantage of this exceptionally valuable resource,''

''Thank you, professor, but what do you mean by it will keep track of what I'm learning?''

''Perhaps seeing it in action will answer any questions you may have, walk with me and we shall put it to test,'' Professor Weasley had given you a guide tour around Hogwarts and how to use the floo powder. You turn around and saw Professor Fig approaching the two of you.

''Speaking of the devil,'' You heard her mutter as you greet Professor Fig.

''Professor Fig, your ears must have burning,'' She spoke. ''Oh?'' Professor Fig questioned.

''Yes, you seem to have provided our new fifth-year with a solid foundation in the basics of spell-casting,'' Professor Weasley replied. ''Ah, I'm afraid I can't take all the credit there, Professor, they've a rare apitutde for magic, it seems,''

''Hmm, well, i'm just glad you both arrived in one piece, perfect good boats and carriages to Hogwarts and you chose to fly in the path of a dragon,'' Professor Weasley spoke and narrowed her eyes. ''I wouldn't say I chose the dragon's path Professor, rather, unfortunatley, it would seem that it chose us,''

''Very-well, enough chit-chat, I need to go get class myself,'' Professor Weasley dismissed us. ''Might I rely on you, Professor Fig, to explain the details of the Field Guide's map?''

''Of course,''

''And come to me after you've attended your classes, so you can have a trip to Hogsmeade to gather your supplies,'' Professor Weasley said as we said our goodbyes before I went to talk with Professor Fig. ''It's good to see you, professor,''

''And you, I was hoping our paths would cross today before you immersed yourself in studies,'' He spoke. ''Did I hear you masterfully evade Professor Weasley's interrogation regarding our late arrival?''

''I did try to evade her question, though I feel a little deceptive, I'm fairly certian she suspects that we're not being entirely forthcoming,'' I speak with guilt in my eyes. ''Yes, well, Professor Weasley is a brilliant, an astute witch, it was right to keep the details for now, we don't know where this path we've embarked upon will lead, it may reuire a bit more - flexibilty - with your time than she would approve of,''

''And she may feel obliged to share details with the headmaster that would be better left between us,''

''Understood, Professor,''

''Good, now, as capable as you are, I believe the ability you possess obliges you to be well-trained, happily, you have the benefit of an exceptionally skilled team of witches and wizards to guide you,''

''Now, sounds like you've quite a day ahead what with classes and a trip to Hogsmeade for supplies - including your own wand,'' You can't help but feel the excitment of the mention of going to Hogsmeade and getting your own wand.

''You'll enjoy Mr. Ollivander, he's an exceptional craftsman and a good friend, I shall reach out when I have more information about our mysterious locket, for now, focus on your classes, pay attention, more than your O.W.L.S may hinge on the magic you are able to master within these walls,''

You nodded and said your goodbyes to Professor Fig before you walked your first class of the day: Defense against the dark arts.

You knew that you would be meeting Sebastian there and you hoped that you would befriend him.

Walking into the class, I see already some students dueling against each other. I notice Leander Pewett and Sebastian fire spells against each other as Leander has his shield up before Sebastian broke it with his stupefy. ''Is that all you've got?'' You hear Sebastian mock Leander.

You turn around and saw the familiar brunette boy and you couldn't help but feel nervous. He looked even more handsome.

''Bombarda!'' Sebastain spoke as he reached his wand towards Leander as he had his shield to block his spell. You looked up as the spell hit the artefact on the ceiling and the head of the animal fell down. Before it could fall down on Leander, professor Hecat came in.

''Levioso!'' She chanted as the head from the dead animal floated up.

''Perhaps you'd be good enough to blast each other to pieces on your own time, I get new students every year but I only have one Hebridean Black skull,'' You look up at the balcony and saw an old woman with grey hair. ''It was a token from the Great Poacher Raid of 1878, no doubt you've heard of it,'' She spoke and walked down the stairs.

''Now, you may have be asking yourself how and old woman like me single-handedly took out the largest poacher ring in eastern Wales and lived to boast about it, knowledge,'' She spoke in a matter of a fact voice as I looked at the magic with amazement.

''To the wise, age matters very little,''

''Today, we will review a spell that has saved me from death at the hands of Dark Wizards more times than I care to remember: Levioso,''

''Levioso, a levitation charm?'' You heard Leander Pewett's whine in class. You wanted to roll your eyes at his complains. ''Levioso!'' Professor Hecat chanted, making Leander fly into the air. I can't help but letting out a small laugh at the sight of Leander flying in the air.

''A surprised opponent is a weak opponent, care to defend yourself, master Prewett? No?'' Professor Hecat questioned him. Leander looked at her with a bewilderment look on his face as Professor Hecat released him to stop him floating.

''One thing I've learned as an Unspeakable is the value of simplicity, especially in the heat of the battle, now, let's practise what we've just learned, starting something small,''

I walked back to my desk, practising my wand movement and the spell in front of me. ''Levioso!'' I enchanted, feeling the magic flow through me as I succeed to make the feather in front of me levitate. I feel a pair of eyes looking at me as I turn to see Sebastian catching my eyes.

I blush at the sudden contact and drift my eyes back as I didn't notice the smirk on his face before focusing back on class.

''Now, let's try something a little larger,'' Professor Hecat informed as she had seen us succeed on spell-casting Levioso. I look as Professor Hecat summoned the dummy in front of us as she moved the tables to the side. Professor Hecat gestured for me to demostrate as I look around the room nervously at the attention on me.

I met Sebastians eyes as he notices that I was nervous and send me an encouraging nod. ''Let us begin with basic cast,'' Professor Hecat instructed. I reached out my wand as I saw some red spark deflecting my spark. ''See how the dummy deflected your cast? This time, cast Levioso first, then the basic cast,'' She informed.

''Remember, a surprised opponent is a weak opponent, as Master Prewett so artfully helped me demostrate earlier,'' Professor Hecat spoke, sending some of the student into giggles.

''Levioso!'' I enchanted, reaching my wand to the dummy as the dummy floated into the air. ''Good! now the basic cast,'' I listened on Professor Hecat as I sent red spark towards the dummy as it bounced into the air.

''Well done!''

''Very good, but the best way to practise is by dueling,'' Professor Hecat spoke. I turn around and spot a familiar blonde boy standing next to Professor hecat. ''We'll start with you two,'' She spoke and I look to my left and see Sebastian standing next to me. I couldn't help but look surprised.

''Duelist, take your marks,'' Sebastian looks at me and send me a smile. ''Time for a proper Hogwarts welcome,'' I hear him comment and I chuckled under my breath. ''Let's see about that,'' I challenged him, making him raise his eyebrow at me.

''Don't get too cockey now, don't want to see you upset that you're about to lose,'' Sebastian teased me as we both walked so we faced in front of each other. ''Now, I want a fair duel using only Levioso, basic cast, and Protego,'' Professor Hecat warned us.

I look in surprise when i saw the familiar dueling pop form the ground and turned to look at Sebastian. ''Scared Sallow?'' I tease him as I pointed my wand towards him. ''You wish, darling,'' He teased and I ignored the feeling of my cheeks getting warm.

''You may begin,'' Professor Hecat instructed. Sebastian smirked at the affect he had on her. He took it as an advantage and casted Levioso, but I managed to use Protego just in time to dodge his spell.

''Levioso!'' I shouted, making him fly and used the basic cast on him. ''This can't be your first duel,'' You heard him say and grunted in pain when he fell on the ground.

''Let just say I'm a quick learner,'' I responded. ''Protego,'' I spoke, as I made an barrier around me.

''Levioso!'' Sebastian and I spoke in unison as I succeeded to block his spell. I used basic spell casting on him, knocking him as he fell back of the platform.

The class had ended and you saw Sebastian approaching you. ''Not bad for a beginner, you give as good as you get,'' He chuckled. ''Are you saying I caught you off guard, Sallow?'' I teased him. ''Perhaps,'' He responded with a grin.

''I would like to have a word with you, after class,'' Professor Hecat spoke to me, interrupting me and Sebastian's conversation. ''It was fun meeting you,'' I told him as he nodded. ''The same, hope we will meet each other again soon,'' Sebastian replied, saying goodbye before I walked to Professor Hecat.

After learning another spell from Professor Hecat and myself expected that she wanted me to practise on my dueling. Luckily, I already knew who to ask about the dueling club. Before that, I needed to join my classes and I met Natsai Onai. The gazelle female was just like the game and I hoped to prevent her from sacrificing herself from the Cruciatous curse.

I chose myself that Sebastian would cast the curse on me because I couldn't bear the thought of using on Sebastian. However, the pain was something I would not to experience again.

After a day of classes, the day seemed to end and I was back in the common room, in my dorm. I felt sad that this was all a dream and that I have to go back to my real world tomorrow. You couldn't help yourself but remember the small moments when you met Sebastian for the first time and you hoped that you could save his life from being sent away to azkaban or in fact you would maybe save lives.

#sebastian sallow x reader #sebastian sallow #hogwarts legacy x reader #hogwarts legacy ominis #hogwarts legacy sebastian #hogwarts x reader #hogwarts legacy #ominis gaunt x reader

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lowkeyrobin · 2 months

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reader has had a crush on Rory since they were kids when they kissed (for practice ofc) but rory just has eyes for Erica and it breaks reader's heart but is still supportive cause as long as rory is happy so are they and SOMETHING happens which means reader is slowly dying and rory doesn't realizes his feeling until it's too late and reader dies in his arms.....

holy shit Alex you are evil. when I said angsty mbav I didn't realize you took that personally 😭🙏 /lh /pos

RORY KEANER ; you don't know what you have until you lose it

summary ; you like rory, but he doesn't reciprocate

warnings ; language, death, talk of throwing up, influenced by some music bc I was listening to sleep token LMAO

genre ; angst

word count ; 1.5k

masterlist

The only good thing about living in Ontario, Canada, was your friend group, the Supernatural Squad. Although you were just the comedic relief, you were the most reasonable and level-headed. You were still a staple to the group. You weren't very supernatural, however. Just an ordinary human who happened to be friends with a bunch of vampires, a witch/wizard, Benny couldn't decide on a damn label, and a seer.

You and Rory and Benny and Ethan were the two duos of the group that'd been together the longest. Benny and Ethan met in middle school, and you and Rory met in 4th or 5th grade when he moved to White Chapel. Sarah and Erica met in their freshman year, having been bonded over the lack of friends and their good grades in English and history classes.

You and Rory were a different kind of close. In every universe, you knew you'd met each other, one way or another. He was the funny, dim-witted vampire who was still a geek even through his transformation into puberty and vampirism. You, on the other hand, remain the second half of his comedy troupe, the smart and level-headed companion he needed to keep him mentally stable through all these new, weird things he was going through. He'd forever be 15 while you grew older, something you weren't too worried about right now.

You remembered like it was yesterday when you shared a first kiss for "practice." It was practice, really, Rory wanted to know how to kiss before he tried asking Erica out. However, for you, that was the problem. You didn't want it to be practice for him to be able to woo over Erica.

There was no doubt that Erica, the tall, blonde, vampire, was hot. Hell, if you weren't already head over heels for the younger blonde, you'd totally date her. But, that was the whole thing, he had googly eyes for Erica and you just solemnly looked at him with love stuck in yours like a curse.

But, of course, Rory hadn't learned about the phrase "you don't know what you have until you lose it." He wasn't expecting to lose you, nor was he aware that he even had you wrapped around his finger.

During the final fight with Vice Principal Stern, you'd gotten hurt, and hid it from your friends ; you saved White Chapel for good, ridding the town of evil. You didn't want to sour the mood about a wound that would heal itself, and you didn't want your friends worrying about something so small that'd disappear in time.

Stern hit you with a purplish magenta light-beam from his staff, leaving a very painful, burn-looking wound on your side. Over time, it didn't heal like you hoped it would, if anything it only looked worse, like your skin was decaying.

You had it wrapped up nearly 24/7 to prevent infection, the grey-ish skin was pruney and nasty looking from the amount of moisture. You'd only been living through the pain thanks to a lot of Tylenol, which you probably took a little bit too much of sometimes on accident. The center of the wound was a weird purple color, like a bruise, and it branched off like veins almost. It ran down your hip and up your torso, a grey color, acting as if you were a rotting corpse or something.

The theory was that it'd heal over time or completely disappear after a way since Stern was gone. But obviously, those were both incorrect.

You touch the wound, feeling a sharp pain radiate through the area as you pull your fingers away with a grimace. Your next idea was to ask Benny for a potion or something to help it go away. I mean, he had to have had some wound-dissolving spell or potion laying around somewhere, he was a witch for Christ's sake. It shouldn't be too hard to just ask for one.

That was easier said than done, however. He and Ethan wanted to know what it was for before he made it, and they wouldn't stop pressing after you said it was nothing. They eventually figured you out though, having been the first to notice and point out the veins spreading up to your collarbone and shoulders while you were all hanging out at Ethan's after school.

You kept telling them you were just tired and you had a cold, etcetera etcetera, the past few months, but after a while, they started to wonder why you were only looking worse. Then they persuaded you to just show them so they could help. You complied, showing them the wound you acquired from the final battle with Vice Principal Stern.

Ethan is the first to speak, quickly questioning you, "Dude, when and where did you get that?"

"Fighting Stern a couple of months ago." You shrug nonchalantly as you try your best to force your eyes open to stay awake, "Look, I just need something to make this heal or disappear, okay?"

Benny and Ethan share a worried look, barely able to look at your wound without cringing in disgust and the pain they felt for you.

⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡° ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡° ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°

Within another agonizing week, Sarah, Erica, and of course, Rory, had found out as well. So much for secrets.

All that week, no amount of drugs or spells or potions could help your condition whatsoever. You would frequently throw up and would have to skip class to go to the nurses office or sit in the bathroom while your stomach twisted and turned inside of you. Rory tried helping you as much as he could, carrying your things and flying you straight home after school, but it didn't help much, neither did the magical help from Benny and his grandma, it was like you were immune to it at this point.

You lay in bed on your side, a trashcan accompanying you for any biohazards. The veins now climbed up your neck, your shoulders, and down your legs, your eyes were made heavy by suitcase sides bags under your eyes, it felt like your eyes were swollen, yet they weren't. Rory sits beside you, one hand rubbing your shoulder as you mindlessly babble on, his other hand holding an ice pack to your forehead as you experience heat flashes.

The four other teens stand outside your closed bedroom door, trying to think of any ways to help you. They wanted to convince your parents to take you to the doctors, but how would you explain the massive wound on your side. And how would you explain that you were now a walking corpse acting like a shitty father after a trip to the bar?

"Y'know, Rory, I've always liked you, like, like-liked you" You giggle, ruffling his hair. "You're adorable"

Rory lightly smiles, not taking your words to heart.

"Really, please listen to me, R" You quickly place your hands on his cheeks, cupping his face, "I like you. And I know you don't like me back and shit, you like Erica and you're constantly talking about it, but I want it off my chest before this stupid thing probably kills me or starves me out of my body"

The blonde boy blinks a few times, and wraps you in a hug. "I'm sorry" He mumbles, remembering the fact you were definitely on your last limb here, "You're the best, most awesome friend I could ever ask for, so you're not gonna die! Wait- could I turn you into a vampire and save you? Would that work?"

You shrug, not wanting to get too excited, I mean, the others probably already thought of that and imagined a bad outcome.

The four walk back in to see you resting your head on Rory's lap, probably sleeping as he speaks up, his speech moving a million miles an hour.

"What if we turn them into a vampire? Would that work? I mean, they'd become immortal, right?"

The four look to each other and shrug, positivity shining through their worried expressions.

"Did they say they wanted to try it?" Sarah asks, "It's a big devotion... I mean, this is literally life changing, maybe for the better"

Rory nodded, "They said to ask you"

Sarah nods down, looking at you, "Ask them, I'll be downstairs, I'm gonna make them some tea" She lightly smiles, dragging Erica along with her.

Rory shakes your shoulder with no response, your cheeks pale as the veins quickly crawl up your face. He gets a little more aggressive with it, calling your name, the fear showing in his voice.

"Y/n, Y/n, Y/n? Y/n? Y/n!"

Ethan stands frozen, seeing your entire face begin to be engulfed by the weird infection. Benny begins shouting for Sarah and Erica, sprinting down the stairs as quickly as possible. The blonde turns you face up, seeing blood trail out from your nose.

You were totally limp in his arms, a sense of calmness painting your face instead of the now usual pained and tired look. You seemed peaceful laying there while your whole body is painted in a spider web like pattern.

"Y/n/n, please, wake up! I can help you!"

No response, your chest wasn't even slowly rising or falling anymore, you were just a limp, heavy body laying on him.

Tears prick at the blonde's eyes as he stares at your relaxed features, wishing that just maybe he'd thought a little sooner.

Maybe if he just thought of that a little sooner, then you'd be okay.

#lowkeyrobin #mbav oneshot #mbav x reader #mbav #my babysitter's a vampire #my babysitters a vampire x reader #rory keaner x reader #rory keaner #benny weir x reader #ethan morgan x reader #rory keaner oneshot #gn reader #gender neutral reader

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mybutcheredtongue · 3 months

Text

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

harry potter timeline sirius black x fem!reader

CHAPTER EIGHT (see full series list here)

1993

On the first Thursday evening after school returns from the Christmas holidays, you leave the Astronomy Tower for the History of Magic classroom. Remus told you he was going to teach Harry how to cast a patronus and asked you to come along and help, and you're more than happy to do so. Anytime you get to spend with your godson is time well spent, and getting to hang out with Remus is just another plus.

You turn up and find Harry and Remus standing in the classroom, Remus heaving a large packing case onto Professor Binns' desk.

Harry gives you a bit of a surprised look and Remus smiles, greeting you with your name. "I hope you don't mind my inviting her, Harry, but she is an excellent witch who can cast a perfect patronus."

You roll your eyes with a smile, chuckling lightly as you look at Harry. "He's going to pretend as if he isn't an excellent wizard himself who can also cast a perfect patronus."

Remus huffs quietly, shaking his head, and Harry smiles back at you, before turning his attention to the large case on the desk. "What's that?"

"Another Boggart," Remus answers, stripping off his cloak. "I've been combing the castle ever since Tuesday, and very luckily, I found this one lurking in Mr Filch's filing cabinet. It's the nearest we'll get to a real Dementor. The Boggart will turn into a Dementor when he sees you, so we'll be able to practise on him. I can store him in my office when we're not using him; there's a cupboard under my desk he'll like."

"Okay," Harry says, sounding a little apprehensive.

"So..." Remus takes out his own wand, indicating that Harry should do the same. You follow suit, slightly unsure of whether you're going to be of any help when Remus seems to have this perfectly under control already. "The spell we are going to try and teach you is highly advanced magic, Harry — well beyond Ordinary Wizarding Level. It is called the Patronus Charm."

"How does it work?" Harry asks.

"When cast correctly, it conjures up a Patronus," you say. "A Patronus acts as a sort of guardian...it protects you from a Dementor, drives it away and places itself between you and the Dementor."

Remus nods, before saying, "The Patronus is a kind of positive force, a projection of the very things that the Dementor feeds upon — hope, happiness, the desire to survive — but it cannot feel despair, as real humans can, so the Dementors can't hurt it. But I must warn you, Harry, that the Charm might be too advanced for you. Many qualified wizards have difficulty with it."

"But you two can do the charm, right? Was it hard to learn for you too?" Harry asks curiously and you laugh.

"Very hard, but we were young and would do anything to avoid studying," you reply with a laugh, making Remus smile.

"That is very true," he says in agreement.

Harry nods, before asking, "What does a Patronus look like?"

"Each one is unique to the wizard who conjures it," Remus says.

"And how do you conjure it?"

"With an incantation, which will work only if you are concentrating, with all your might, on a single, very happy memory."

Harry pauses for a moment, clearly thinking hard, before saying a very concentrated "Right."

"The incantation is expecto patronum!" you say slowly.

"Expecto patronum," Harry repeats under his breath, "expecto patronum."

"Excellent! Concentrating hard on your happy memory?" Remus reminds him and Harry quickly nods, remembering what he was supposed to be doing.

"Oh — yeah — expecto patrono — no, patronum — sorry — expecto patronum, expecto patronum —"

A wisp of silvery gas suddenly whooshes out of the end of his wand and his face lights up excitedly.

"Did you see that?" he grins. "Something happened!"

"Incredible for your first lesson!" You encourage and Harry beams.

"Yes, very good," Remus says, smiling. "Right then — ready to try it on a Dementor?"

"Yes," Harry says confidently, gripping his wand tightly and moving into the middle of the classroom.

You stand to the side, wand at the ready, as Remus grasps the lid of the packing case and pulls. You watch as a Dementor rises slowly from the box, its hooded face turned towards Harry, one glistening, scabbed hand gripping its cloak. The lamps in the classroom flicker and then die out. The Dementor steps out of the box and starts to sweep in that sickeningly eerie Dementor way towards Harry, drawing a deep, rattling breath.

"Expecto patronum!" Harry yells desperately. "Expecto patronum! Expecto — "

Harry begins to falter, and his grip on his wand weakens so much that it drops from his hand and he too drops backwards to the floor.

You and Remus both spring to life, as Remus shouts a quick riddikulus! at the 'Dementor' and it morphs into a bright full moon, the lamps returning to their former glow with it.

You run to the boy lying flat in the middle of the room and gently shake his arm, saying, "Harry!" and snapping your fingers.

He quickly jerks back to life, looking around himself as he sits up, beads of sweat trickling down behind his glasses. You pull a handkerchief from your pocket and hand it to him with a small smile, and he accepts it gratefully, patting his face down with it.

"Sorry," he mutters.

"Are you all right?" You ask.

"Yes..." Harry pulls himself up on one of the desks and leans against it.

"Here — " Remus hands him a Chocolate Frog. "Eat this before we try again. I didn't expect you to do it the first time. In fact, I would have been astounded if you had."

"It's getting worse," Harry mutters, biting the Frog's head off. "I could hear her louder that time — and him — Voldemort — "

You glance at Remus, his face has turned pale and you inhale slowly, stomach churning.

"Harry," you say gently. "That's what Dementors do. They make you remember the worst memories, your worst fears...that way, you let your guard down and let your happy memories and feelings slip into their grasp. But if you keep that happiest memory strong in your mind, it'll protect you."

Harry seems to think about this for a moment, and Remus says, "Harry, if you don't want to continue, I will more than understand — "

"I do!" Harry says fiercely, stuffing the rest of the Chocolate Frog into his mouth. "I've got to! What if the Dementors turn up at our match against Ravenclaw? I can't afford to fall off again. If we lose this game we've lost the Quidditch Cup!"

Okay, James.

"All right then..." Remus says, slightly taken aback. You know he's thinking the exact same thing you are. "You might want to select another memory, a happy memory, I mean, to concentrate on...that one doesn't seem to have been strong enough..."

Harry moves to the middle of the classroom again, wand gripped firmly in his hand.

"Ready?" Remus asks, gripping the lid of the packing case.

"Ready," Harry replies.

"Go!" Remus says, pulling off the lid. Once again, the lamps flicker out and it gets icily cold, sending shivers down your spine. The Dementor glides forward towards Harry, drawing its rattling breath and extending one rotting hand out to him.

"Expecto patronum!" Harry yells. "Expecto patronum! Expecto pat —"

Once more, Harry's face goes blank and he tumbles to the ground, dropping his wand in the process. He lays on the ground, shaking, his face contorting in pained expressions and you move to him again while Remus quickly sorts out the Boggart, coming to his side too.

"Harry! Harry, dear, wake up..." you say, tapping him hard on the face. He opens his eyes, looking very disorientated, looking around like he doesn't know where he is. Then he shakes his head slightly and clears his throat.

"I heard my dad," he mumbles. You feel your heart start to ache. "That's the first time I've ever heard him — he tried to take on Voldemort himself, to give my mum time to run for it..."

You notice glistening tears wetting Harry's face, and when he bends down to do up his shoelace, they've been wiped off.

"You heard James?" Remus says quietly, almost as if he's forgotten where he is. You glance up at him, catching the sad look in his eyes.

"Yeah..." Harry looks up at Remus. "Why — you didn't know my dad, did you?"

"I — I did — we did, as a matter of fact," Remus says quickly, gesturing to you. "We were friends at Hogwarts. Listen, Harry — perhaps we should leave it here for tonight. This charm is ridiculously advanced...I shouldn't have suggested putting you through this..."

"No!" Harry cries, getting up again defiantly. "I'll have one more go! I'm not thinking of happy enough things, that's what it is...hang on..."

There's a brief moment of silence as Harry racks his brain for an even happier memory than his last.

"Ready?" Remus says, though you can tell he's doing this against his better judgment. You give him a look and he grits his teeth. "Concentrating hard? All right — go!"

He pulls off the lid and the Dementor emerges again.

"EXPECTO PATRONUM!" Harry bellows. "EXPECTO PATRONUM! EXPECTO PATRONUM!"

To your shock, a huge, silver shadow bursts from the end of Harry's wand, hovering between him and the Dementor. Though Harry has nearly produced a proper Patronus, he begins to sway again and you spring forward, roaring, "Riddikulus!"

There's a loud crack and Harry's wispy Patronus disappears along with the Dementor and he sinks into a chair, legs shaking. You're no longer focused on him though, because once you've stepped in front of the Boggart it contorts into a familiar figure.

Sirius Black stands before you, dressed in an Azkaban prisoner's clothes, filthy and grubby. His long curls which you once loved running your fingers through are greasy and matted, and his face is sunken and pale. His eyes are wide, staring at you, and his face twists into a cruel smile.

"It was me," he says, though the voice isn't his. This voice is full of cruelty, malice, and even though it sounds like him, you know it's not.

No, no. This isn't real. You know this isn't real. Why are your eyes stinging? Why is the ability to breathe suddenly lost on you?

His body starts to shake in silent laughter. "You are so fucking stupid. I never even cared about — "

"Riddikulus!"

You blink. Remus is forcing the Boggart back into its packing case with his wand; it has turned into the moon again.

Remus gives you a quick once-over from where you stand, stock-still, staring at the packing case. He chooses instead to focus on Harry, forcing a smile. "Excellent! Excellent, Harry! That was definitely a start!"

"Eat the lot, or Madam Pomfrey will be after my blood. Same time next week?"

You stand, staring at the packing case. You don't even know what's going on, you've completely zoned out, thinking only of the 'man' that was in front of you mere moments ago.

"If you knew my dad, you must know Sirius Black too."

You snap out of your daze, spinning around to face Harry and Remus.

"What gives you that idea?" Remus says sharply. You remain silent.

"Nothing — I mean, I just knew that they were friends at Hogwarts, too..."

"Yes, I knew him," Remus says shortly, glancing at you from the corner of his eye. "Or I thought I did. You'd better get off, Harry, it's getting late."

Harry turns to you, Lily's eyes staring at you inquisitively. "And you, Professor...your Boggart..."

"Yes, well, yes, it's him," you reply curtly. "It shouldn't be a shock that I am afraid of a...a crazed — " your mind runs wild trying to find any words, "— um...a — a man like that."

"But you did know him?"

"Yes. Really, Harry, Professor Lupin is right...bed, now. You have class in the morning." You turn around, suddenly busying yourself with something on Binns' desk.

Harry hesitates for a moment before you hear him leave behind you, the door closing and leaving you alone with Remus.

You sigh gently and look up at him. He says nothing, just opens his arms and envelopes you in a comforting hug.

"Perhaps it's best to let you handle the Boggarts from now on?" You joke with a weak smile and Remus chuckles lightly.

"I think you might be right."

✧⁠*⁠。✧⁠*⁠。

January turns to February. Harry's all-important Ravenclaw game draws nearer, and Harry seems to grow more frustrated at each unsuccessful Patronus lesson. However, with each try, even though he doesn't know it, he is making progress.

"You're expecting too much of yourself," Remus says sternly in your fourth week of practice. "For a thirteen-year-old wizard, even an indistinct Patronus is a huge achievement. You aren't passing out any more, are you?"

"I thought a Patronus would — charge the Dementors down or something," says Harry dispiritedly. "Make them disappear — "

"The true Patronus does do that," Remus replies. "But you've achieved a great deal in a very short space of time. If the Dementors put in an appearance at your next Quidditch match, you will be able to keep them at bay long enough to get back to the ground."

"Besides, we'll be there too. You have nothing to worry about," you say with an encouraging smile.

"But you said it's harder if there are loads of them."

"We have complete confidence in you," Remus says, smiling. "Here — you've earned a drink. Something from the Three Broomsticks, you won't have tried it before — "

He pulls three gold bottles from his briefcase and Harry's face lights up.

"Butterbeer!" says Harry. "Yeah, I like that stuff!"

Harry, the boy who has never set foot in Hogsmeade?

You give him a sceptical look.

"Oh — Ron and Hermione brought me some back from Hogsmeade," Harry says quickly, smiling awkwardly.

"I see," Remus says, though he looks equally as suspicious as you. "Well, let's drink to a Gryffindor victory against Ravenclaw! Not that I'm supposed to take sides, as a teacher..." he adds hastily and you snort, rolling your eyes.

"Once a Gryffindor, always a Gryffindor, Remus," you say with a wink and he shakes his head amusedly.

You take a sup from your Butterbeer, the room quiet as you all drink, before Harry breaks the silence by saying, "What's under a Dementor's hood?"

Remus lowers his bottle thoughtfully. "Hmm...well, the only people who know are in no condition to tell us. You see, the Dementor only lowers its hood to use its last and worst weapon."

"What's that?"

"They call it the Dementors' Kiss," you answer with a small shudder. "It's terrible. It's what the Dementors do when they want to utterly destroy someone. There's some kind of mouth under that hood because they attach their jaws to the mouth of the victim and...suck out their soul."

Harry accidentally spits out his Butterbeer. "What — they kill — ?"

"Oh, no," Remus says. "Much worse than that. You can exist without your soul, you know, as long as your brain and heart are still working. But you'll have no sense of self any more, no memory, no...anything. There's no chance at all of recovery. You'll just — exist. As an empty shell. And your soul is gone forever...lost."

Remus drinks a little more Butterbeer, then says, "It's the fate that awaits Sirius Black. It was in the Daily Prophet this morning. The Ministry has given the Dementors permission to perform it if they find him."

You nearly choke on your drink, placing it down on the table as you cough. "What?"

"Did you not see that?" Remus asks in confusion and you shake your head, stunned.

"No, I didn't," you respond dejectedly. "I — I slept in this morning, missed the post — meteor shower last night..."

"He deserves it," Harry says suddenly.

You turn to him, shocked. "Harry!" you say breathlessly, looking down at the wooden desk.

"You think so, Harry?" Remus says lightly. "Do you really think anyone deserves that?"

"Yes," says Harry defiantly. "For...for some things..."

"It's inhumane," you spit. "If you knew half of what goes on in Azkaban, you would think it is punishment enough."

Harry doesn't respond to that, just thanks you both for the lesson and Remus for the Butterbeer before leaving.

As soon as he's gone you turn to Remus. "The Kiss?"

"I thought you had read it," Remus says apologetically, looking very guilty. "I would have told you otherwise."

"It's fine, Moony, really...I don't care about that. Just...like, what the fuck? This is just great. Exactly what I needed to hear. What a brilliant year this has been!" You say bitterly, standing up from your seat and running a hand down your face, laughing humourlessly. "Just fucking brilliant."

→ all kinds of interaction are appreciated ♡

✧⁠*⁠。✧⁠*⁠。

->-> read chapter nine here!

#sirius black x you #sirius black x reader #sirius black #marauders #the marauders #harry potter #harry potter fanfiction #hp #hp fanfic #angst #angst with a happy ending #fanfic #fanfiction

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hrefna-the-raven · 6 months

Text

Web of faith

Masterlist- BG3 masterlist

Chapters: 1 - 2 - 4 - 5 - 6 - 7

Words: 790

Chapter 3

"Oh you're serious?", you exclaimed in surprise, brushing a strand of Kar'niss' white hair behind his ears.

"Yes", he murmured, feeling a blush creeping up his cheeks.

He wasn't totally completely oblivious of the little daily life gadgets that were used but some of them were not as common in the noble district, just like that small lantern you always brought to your secret sanctuary.

"Well it's just an ordinary lantern, my beloved", you giggled, holding it up for him to see.

"But it glows like the moon."

The warmth of his smile and the innocent wonder in his eyes never failed to melt your heart.

"Silly Niss, you've never seen the moon."

"I may not have seen it, but I still know about it," he replied, rolling his eyes playfully as if offended by your comment, "besides I find its light almost as beautiful as you, my tiny beloved", he chuckled, pulling you into a tight hug.

You had strongly advised your companions against journeying through the depths of the Underdark to reach the shadow-cursed lands, sparking many heated debates. They all acknowledged that taking that route would have been quicker and easier, considering your extensive knowledge of the alternative paths and its inhabitants, but you adamantly refused. Each and every aspect of the Underdark served as a painful reminder of the profound loss you had endured - the day your beloved, the one who still held your heart, failed Lolth's test and perished. Deep within, a small part of you clung to a glimmer of hope, perhaps unaware of the concealed truth behind that fateful trial. However, your mind implored you to bury that hope, recognizing it as treacherous, for its revelation could inflict even greater anguish than the mere contemplation of his death. It took you a considerable amount of time to develop enough trust in your companions to share the heartbreaking tale of your past. However, it brought solace to your heart when they eventually grasped the magnitude of your pain. With their understanding, you embarked on the journey through the mountain pass. It took an unnatural amount of climbing, an unexpected travel to the astral plane, where you finally met your dream visitor only to defy a githyanki queen, whom you barely escaped with your life and the long rumbling abd mumbling of a legendary wizard. Now, as you finally sat here by the campfire, fixating on the dancing flames, you struggled to suppress the overwhelming sense of dread that lurked just down the path. The shadow-cursed lands, a corrupted place inundated with necrotic energy and harmful to any living being that passed within.

Kar'niss bowed before Ketheric Throm in the throne hall, graciously accepting the bestowed moon lantern from the chosen's outstretched hand.

"You will be the light of the Absolute and guide her True Souls and faithful to this safe haven", the general's words reverberated throughout the hall as he addressed the drider, "your task shall start tomorrow. For now, you're free to spend the rest of your time in the chamber you chose."

"We have our queen's favour. She speaks to us. Protects us. Graces us with her blessing. We bring more to her church every day", Kar'niss murmured with an almost zealous fervour, tightening his grip around the lantern, "we live to serve our Queen."

With a dismissive gesture from Ketheric, the drider turned and made his way towards the upper levels of the tower. A strangely familiar warmth enveloped his thoughts as his gaze fixated on the lantern, holding it up with one hand, bathing in its gentle glow. An almost innocent giggle escaped his lips.

"We are silly, yes my Queen, but we do know the moon, we have seen it now and you graces us with your blessing."

Climbing up the walls of the library's top floor, he squeezed his way through a gap in the ceiling. Kar'niss carefully laid a soft woollen blanket on the dusty attic floor, propping the moon lantern against a wooden beam before settling down. This was his new home, his small sanctuary, in close proximity to his beloved new queen, where he could hear her speak only to him, the place he'd finally found purpose and worth. With a contented sigh, he reached for a small silver ring adorned with diamonds, which he had previously placed in this space. As he held the ring, something deep within him stirred, as if a faint echo from the past beckoned him to keep it. The true significance of the ring was lost within his fragmented mind, a hazy fragment of a memory whispering to him. Though not as loud as his queen's voice, it persisted with an alluring beauty he was drawn to and felt almost treasonous towards the Absolute.

#baldur’s gate 3 #bg3 #kar'niss #karniss #bg3 kar'niss #kar'niss x reader #kar'niss x you

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greenerteacups · 8 days

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do you have any thoughts on luna and harry as a potential couple post-canon? i was reading your post on harry/ginny and i really loved your perspective on it, especially when you said your vision for harry post war was basically just lots and lots of big dogs (i LOVE that mental image and i agree it would be SO good for him!!) but i was wondering if you'd consider luna and harry to be a good match for each other? personally i have a sort of soft spot for the pairing because of how fond harry is of her in canon, and i think if anyone was going to understand and be unfazed by all the difficult trauma responses and long healing process he's going to be dealing with for years after the war, luna seems like a good fit :)

My love for Harry as a character is kind of unusual to me, considering I go pearl-diving for ships when I read things, and I fall in love with dynamics as a conduit to falling in love with characters. That said, I don't really ship him with anybody. I just genuinely adore That Weird Little Dude. Same with Ron; I'm just as pleased to see them with a range of people, because (A) I believe they're good partners and can have great relationships with many people (Ron Weasley get behind me they could never make me hate you Ron Weasley), but also (B) I don't see either of their canon relationships as Definitive. Some characters I ship together because I sincerely believe they are (non-deterministic) soulmates, in that they bring out parts of each other that make them the freshest, happiest, most interesting versions of themselves. With other characters, I'll look at a couple and go: "Huh. Could work!" and smack my giant rubber [APPROVED] stamp on it, then get back to work on my blorbos.

Luna and Harry are one of those couples for me. As I mentioned in that other post, I think Harry's primary requirement in a partner is someone who can treat him normally, i.e. will be generally chill about the Became Wizard Jesus Twice situation. Which is a big ask. Luna is uniquely capable of doing that because Luna is not normal at all, and so treats all things, extraordinary and ordinary both, as uniformly dazzling and delightful. I believe this is why Harry enjoys her so much in their friendship, because he gets to feel valued and treasured without feeling unusual or othered — a hard line to toe, and one even Ron and Hermione occasionally trip up on. He seems to like hanging out with her a great deal, and I think it says something sweet that he asks her to the Slug Club party instead of any of the girls in Gryffindor from his year, whom he'd ostensibly know better.

Luna is a bit of a cipher to me, I admit. We know she's the daughter of an eccentric and probably traumatized single father, raised without a mother; deeply lonely, because of how she's been ostracized for her beliefs and hobbies, and the victim of some degree of bullying for it; and yet full of a passionate, almost effortless wonder and joie de vivre. She's also intensely loving (cf. painting her friends' faces on her bedroom ceiling) and very hard to embarrass. She likes Harry for understandable reasons; they share most of those qualities (Harry's more sensitive to others' opinions, understandably so), and the only point where they diverge is their actual hobbies and interests. Harry seems pretty fond of her nonsense, and I bet she could sell him on crumple-horned snorkacks given some time — maybe if Hermione took a vacation to Switzerland and left them alone together.

In general, what I find sweet about the idea of these two is they're so chill. These are two people whose chief ambition is to hang out, enjoy their hobbies, and see some cool magical shit. Date night is so fucking easy for these two. Plus, Harry is a hothead a lot of the time, and Luna just... vibes. Literally never bothered. Insane levels of not fussed at all times. Very helpful for Harry, who has a bad tendency to bottle up his feelings and then blow up at the first person to sneeze at him. Conversely, I'd hope that Harry would age into the kind of genial, confident dude who would be able to rock up with a function where people were talking shit about Luna and be like :) My wife? You mean my wise and beautiful wife? Surely you are not talking about my wise and beautiful wife. :) instead of doing what he'd do from age 15-17, which is get mad and stomp around sulking. Which, again: teenager. Orphan. Non-stop trauma gauntlet from age 2-18. Excuses are made. But still. Would think it best if Luna's husband were not perhaps so keenly sensitive to gossip, for Luna's sake.

Anyway, these are just some dissembled thoughts. There's also something in there about Harry, boy under the staircase, falling in love with the magical world and ending up the Most Magical person, i.e., the person who took believing in magic to such an extreme that she imagines magic that doesn't exist yet. And Luna ends up with the one person who's inarguably stranger than she is.

#another e.g. for a Definitive couple would be Annabeth and Percy for instance.#like I think Nico and Will are cute but I'm fine if they date other people! I don't *root* for that but I'd be chill and open to it #if Percy and Annabeth break up I'm setting the book on fire and doing a Cursed Child brainwipe. it isn't happening.#they are Definitive. they are narrative complements. they need to kiss for Thematic Purposes (read: pretentious)#greenteacup asks #Harry and Ginny also exist in the rubberstamp box for me #I think Ginny does different things for Harry and has different strengths/faults #sidebar naming their daughter after luna is SO cute and lily luna is the one potterchild I'm okay with the name of #but it also makes me think about harry/luna kids and. you know what. I think it would go better #harry would be like 'perhaps... albus severus' and luna would be like :D great idea! I was Thinking Of Lysander Philodemus Crantor.#and then she would negotiate him down to like. 'katherine' but with a byzantine combination of Y's and E's

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gracexthoughts · 1 month

Text

of violent delights chap 5

trapped

TW: Panic attack, talk of abuse and claustrophia. I have added ** to the beginning and end of the scene so it can be avoided. I've also put a summary of this moment at the very end.

9 November 1996

Euphemia's POV

Harry had to stay in the hospital for the rest of the weekend. I sprained my wrist in my attempt to catch him but beyond that, I came away in better shape than my brother. There's something he isn't telling me but I won't pry, not yet at least. Saturday's match shook us both up pretty badly. Watching Harry tumbling out of the sky may be the most terrified I've been since I was little. The sight has been plaguing my nightmares the last few nights, mixing with the old dreams of Voldemort and Sirius Black and the Dursleys. I slept so poorly last night that I am basically running on coffee.

"Alright, that's all for today. Reminder that your essay on your chosen creature are due on Thursday," Professor Lupin announces, pulling me out of my thoughts and back to reality. Quickly, I begin packing up my notes and textbook sloppier than I normally would in my daze.

"Phe, let me get that for you," Fred says from my shoulder, reaching out for my bag. I shake my head, not interested in being coddled. I only sprained my wrist and I can carry my own bag. "S'arlight, Freddie. I have to talk to Lupin. I'll meet you in History of Magic, okay?" Fred nods, leaving the classroom with the rest of my friends as I walk towards Lupin's desk. "Professor, might I have a word?"

Lupin turns, eyebrows raised at me in concern. "Certainly, are you well? I spoke to Harry earlier today about the match this weekend."

"I'm fine. That's actually what I wanted to talk to you about. I was doing some reading yesterday, on dementors, and I found a charm to repel them. The Patronus Charm."

"Yes," Lupin says slowly, leaning back against his desk. Sunlight streams through the windows at an angle, a beam cutting through the air between us, looking like a golden veil was hung between me and the professor.

"Can you teach it to me? And Harry?"

"Euphemia.." Lupin starts but I cut him off.

"We can't go on without some way to defend ourselves. We were lucky this time but we might not be again. From what I've read this charm is the only defense against them. We have to learn it," I speak quickly, nerves causing my hands to shake slightly at my sides. "Please."

Lupin considers me for a long moment, before standing straight up with a weary sigh. "It well beyond the Ordinary Wizarding Levels..."

"I can handle it," I say quickly causing Lupin's lips to twitch into a sad smile.

"You looked very much like your mother when you said that. She was always at the top of our class, intelligent beyond her years. I suppose... if anyone could master the Patronus at such young ages it would be the children of James and Lily." Lupin studies me sadly, a flicker of pride lingering in his eyes.

"So you'll do it?"

"Yes, I can try. I do not claim to be an expert at fighting dementors and it will have to wait until next term. I'm afraid I've chosen a busy time to fall ill." Lupin says, turning to look at the papers stacked on his desk.

"That's fine, thank you, sir. Thank you very much," I say earnestly, smiling at him through the golden veil of sunlight. He nods slowly and I turn, leaving the class much more hopeful than when I entered it.

10 November 1996

Riddle and I stroll down the halls, walking our usual route through the castle in a slightly tense silence. Really, slightly tense is about as close to comfortable as we can get. We are near the end of our rounds, when a huge crash echoes through the hall causing both of us to jump.

"The hell was that?" I ask, turning around searching for the source of the crash.

"Dunno" Mattheo says, his eyes narrowed. Another crash sounds to our left, from a broom cupboard. I step towards it but Mattheo reaches out, grabbing me by the arm. Startled, I yank my arm back hard but Riddle's grip is harder and we stumble, my back hitting the wall as he collides with me, his hand reaching out to brace himself on the wall over my head. For a moment, we stand there completely still, stunned at the position we find ourselves in. I can't help but notice the faint scent of his cologne, the dark brown of his eyes where amusement dances as he stares down at me, a small grin on his lips.

"Get off me!" I say angrily, snapping out of the moment, trying to push Riddle away.

"Did you stop to think that you might not want to burst into whatever is happening in the closet, princess?" Riddle says, raising his eyebrows suggestively. "I know I'm only ever in broom closets for one thing."

"Please spare me the details of your favorite conquests. It's past curfew. What are we here for if not to catch people not in the dorms?" I respond sharply, refusing to admit that, no, I had not considered that possibility.

"Your funeral," Riddle shrugs as he loosens his grip enough for me to shove him off. He stumbles back a few steps, a crooked and cocky grin growing on his face as he chuckles slightly.

I step towards the door carefully and knock, Riddle to snorts a laugh behind me. The sounds stop from inside the closet and I roll my eyes, pulling open the door. As I do something sweeps out over me and before I know it, I am stumbling forward from a force at my back. I stumble forward, catching myself on the back wall of the closet, and Riddle tumbles in after me before the door slams shut. I hear a cackling from the other side of the door as Peeves compliments himself and the rattle of the doorknob as Riddle tries and fails to open the door. No, no, no, please.

Mattheo's POV

I quickly turn back to the door, throwing my weight against the wood. "PEEVES! Let us out!" I bellow, trying to get the door open. Peeves just continues cackling as his voice gets quieter and quieter, presumably as he floats leisurely down the corridor, immensely pleased with himself. I bang one last time against the door, groaning in frustration before turning around and reaching in my pocket for my wand. "Lumos," I murmur and a soft light blooms from the tip of my wand. "Alohomora!" I say and try to open the door to no avail and kick the door once more for good measure. "Fuck."

I sigh and turn back to face Potter, leaning against the door. Now that there is light in the room, I notice her pressed up against the back wall, her breath shallow and uneven. "What's the matter with you?" I ask, raising my eyebrow.

"Shut up," she mumbles, closing her eyes and leaning her head against the wall. Her chest heaves with each uneasy breath, her hands pressed tightly up against the wall, her heart beating so hard and rapidly I can see her pulse in her neck.

"Potter, what is happening? We'll get out eventually, everything's fine. No need to panic."

"Mattheo! Shut up!" She yells suddenly, her eyes wide and fear filled.

I stand there stunned for a moment, watching Euphemia Potter try to control her breathing and she slides down the wall till she's sitting, her knees pulled up to her chest. She's never called me by my first name before and she's certainly never lost her cool in front of me. No matter how hard I've pushed she has always maintained her cool, any anger or hatred might bubble on the surface but still always under her control. Her breathing is steadily getting quicker and quicker as she places her hand over her chest, rubbing roughly against her uniform sweater. Panic attack. The realization hits me like a ton of bricks and I sink down to my knees and reach out towards her but she recoils away from my touch.

"It's okay, Euphemia. Just try and focus on my voice, okay? You're safe, you're gonna be okay. Try and breath with me, okay?" I sit against the door, trying to give her as much space as possible, and breath deeply, exaggerating my movements so she can follow better. I'm not sure how long we sit here, me breathing deeply as she tries to match me. Slowly, her breathing slows and the fear in her eyes melts, no longer wild with panic and fear.

Eventually, her breathing slows to near normal and she drops her knees to sit crisscross, her thumb and forefinger playing her ring. "Thank you," she whispers so quietly I almost miss it. "I just really don't like tight spaces."

"Yeah, I kinda put those pieces together myself," I say although I immediately regret responding with a quip. "Sorry."

"No, actually you being irritating is helping. Distracting," she huffs a small laugh. "I don't think I've ever heard you apologize," she adds after a moment.

"Hm, I don't do it often. I'm so very rarely wrong," I grumble, still watching Euphemia closely as she scoffs, shaking her head slightly. "If we're talking firsts, I've never heard you call me Mattheo before."

"Well you wouldn't shut up," she quips, shrugging as she studies me for a moment.

"I thought you said me talking was helping."

"Now, not before," she corrects. "Did you try Alohomora?" I nod and she sighs, her face screwing up in concentration as she tries to think of another solution.

We sit in silence for a long moment and I watch her. The way she bites her lip as she thinks, her green eyes bright even in the dim light, and her hands fidget with her ring, the pale stone catching the light every so often, the lighting scar on her left hand shining white as its illuminated by the light from my wand, her hair messier than it was in the hallway, more pieces falling around her face, softening her features. I think back to that first night we did rounds together, where she flinched at my raised hand, and I realize, possibly for the first time, that maybe her life isn't as perfect as I always thought it was...

She suddenly takes a deep breath, leaning back against the wall with her eyes closed. "You alright?" She nods slowly, her fingers spinning her ring quickly. "Someone will find us eventually," I assure her. I want to say more, ask who hurt her so badly she flinches at a raised hand and panics in small spaces, and honestly, I'm surprised at my own interest. Violence and abuse is nothing new to me. I have a record longer than my arm of all the fist fights I've gotten into in the last 5 years alone and most of the people I know and grew up with have been punished by their parents physically in one way or another. But something about watching Euphemia Potter curled in on herself makes me want to find whoever did this to her and hurt them so badly they never lay a hand on anyone else ever again.

"My aunt and uncle... when I made them mad, which was pretty often... as I'm not really obedient by nature," she chuckles softly, "... they had this small cupboard under the staircase... they'd put us in there. Added a lock to the outside so we couldn't get out..." She speaks quietly and slowly, making sure to keep her breath measured and deep, she voice shaking slightly.

"Merlin... that's terrible," I say eventually, surprised she's willing admit this to me. I clench my fists, trying to control the rise of anger in my chest. Why do I care all of a sudden? She shrugs slightly, pulling her knees back up to her chest. "I don't think I ever knew who you lived with 'til now... did you ever report anything to the Ministry?"

"They're Muggles. Ministry of Magic doesn't care about Muggles," she says simply, her eyes meeting mine for the first time.

"I thought the Potter family was a pureblood fam-"

"Mum was Muggleborn. Her sister, my aunt, hated her for being a witch."

"There wasn't anyone else? Any one better?" I ask, truthfully bewildered that the golden children, the saviors of the wizarding world, have absolutely no one else to turn to. She just shrugs and shakes her head. "I'm sorry."

"Two apologies in less than an hour? Who are you and what have you done to Mattheo Riddle?" She asks, her eyes narrowed mischievously. Her fingers still dance around her ring but the worst of the panic seems to have faded, or she's adept at hiding it.

"I'm not completely unsympathetic," I say, "Besides, it wouldn't be fair to kick you while you're down," I add as an afterthought.

"Like that's ever stopped you before. I've seen you beat people unconscious and keep going," she challenges, but I don't see judgement in her eyes like I normally do, but rather a cool interest. Like I am a problem she can't figure out how to solve.

"Maybe they deserved it," I say and I begin to feel uncomfortable under her watchful gaze. Her green eyes seem to pierce through my skin, through the armor of indifference I've spent years building around myself and I find I'm feeling vulnerable and exposed.

"So, any ideas how we get out of here, princess?" I ask, ducking my gaze away from hers, suddenly itching to get away from this closet where so many vulnerabilities have been laid bare.

"Fred and George will figure it out eventually," she says confidently. I raise my eyebrow.

"Uh, what makes you think that? I didn't think the Weasley twins were the brightest of the ginger bunch."

"Oi, we were having a not-so-terrible moment, don't ruin it by making fun of my friends," she says defensively and I raise my hands in surrender. "At least one of them always stays up until I come back to the common room after rounds and when I don't show up, well, let's just say they have a way to find me."

"Okay...Two questions: Why and how?" I ask, crossing my arms over my chest.

"The why is that George and Freddie are protective and they don't trust you. The how is a secret," she says simply, running her fingers through her hair, my eyes following the movement.

I avert my eyes and look down at my watch. "Well we should've been done about a half hour ago so I hope they catch up soon. I think this is now officially the most time we've spent together in one sitting, princess."

"And we haven't killed each other yet. We must be growing up," she quips sarcastically, making us both laugh. They are genuine laughs and for a moment, I think hers is the best thing I've ever heard.

Another 10 or so minutes pass, and we sit there across from each other, sometimes chatting and sometimes sitting in an easy silence. It is the most enjoyable time that I have ever spent with Euphemia Potter, panic attack aside.

"Mia!" A voice calls distantly and Euphemia jumps up, stumbling over me to reach the door, kicking my knee slightly and I grunt.

"Fred! George!" She calls back frantically, banging on the door of the closet. I breathe a sigh of relief, sitting on the stone floor was getting painful and I was starting to think Potter placed too much faith in the Twins; I push myself up to stand behind her.

There is some shuffling and talking on the other side and soon, the door opens, dim light flooding in from the darkened corridor, to reveal the Weasley Twins on the other side, wearing matching panicked expressions. As soon as the door is opened, Mia stumbles out and and into one of the Twins arms, causing the pair to stumble back and allowing me to step out of the broom closet. Before I have fully stepped into the corridor, the twin not holding Mia grabs me by the collar and slams me against the wall, the back of my head connecting with the rough stone wall.

"What the hell did you do to her?!" He yells at me. On instinct I swing my fist up, connecting with his jaw and shove him off me.

"Fred!" Mia gasps, and tries to step forward but George holds her back. Fred stands upright, anger in his eyes as he takes a swing for me. I duck his first swing but he lands a second in my gut, knocking the wind out of me and before I can recover I'm back to being pressed up against the wall with Fred's snarling face inches from mine. "How dare you touch her, you piece of shit!"

"I didn't do shit, Weasley!" I snarl back, grappling with him roughly. Both the Twins have a few inches on me but I've been in more fights this term than they have their whole lives. I take another swing but Fred is ready this time and ducks causing me to graze his shoulder, and he retaliates with a punch to my mouth.

"It wasn't his fault! FRED STOP!" Mia shouts, louder than I thought possible for her. Fred stops for a moment, looking at the girl.

"Yeah right," scoffs Fred, keeping me pinned to the wall.

"I didn't do shit!" I spit, a little blood mixing with my saliva.

"I didn't ask you, Riddle."

"It was Peeves! He shoved us and locked us in somehow. It wasn't Mattheo's fault!" Potter says, breaking out of George's hold. She steps towards us and manages to get Fred to release his grip of me and pushes him back. At her touch, Fred visibly relaxes, his eyes quickly scanning Euphemia and, seeing no signs of any hurt, steps back further and my gut twists.

"I told you I-"

"And what, may I ask, is happening here?" We all turn towards the voice, startled out of the stand off to see Professor Lupin standing at the end of the hall, his eyes scanning the four of us, the blood on my lip, and raises his eyes.

"Apologies, Professor. Riddle and I got locked in this closet by Peeves. Fred and George just came to get us out," Euphemia supplies easily, removing her hands from Fred. Lupin watches Euphemia standing between Fred and I, George behind us and raises an eyebrow.

"And?"

"I was blamed for no reason" I grumble, glaring at Fred.

"And how, might I ask, did Mr. and Mr. Weasley know where to find you?" Lupin asks, seeming suspicious.

"Hm, I'd like to know that as well," I say, looking at Fred. The Twins exchange a glance, the kind of mind reading look that twins are famous for, but before they come up with a story, Euphemia speaks up.

"They know what parts of the castle are Riddle's and my responsibility. When I didn't come back when I normally do they got worried."

"Yeah, we walked around until we heard Mia yelling, sir," George adds, sticking his hands in his pockets and shrugging his shoulder.

"Hm" Lupin sighs, eyeing the trio and then me, "Well then, that was very chivalrous of the two of you. However, you are out past curfew and fighting. Five points from Gryffindor each for breaking curfew and another 5 for fighting for both Mr. Weasley and Mr. Riddle," Lupin declares simply. "Is everyone alright? I can escort you to the hospital wing if needed."

"No," I grumble at the same time Fred and George say, "No, sir."

"Thank you, professor. We'll go right back to the dorms," Potter adds to which Lupin nods.

"Yes, please. See that you do. Goodnight," Lupin says, turning and walking back the way he came slowly.

"C'mon, guys," Euphemia says quietly, tugging on Fred's arm. Fred spares me one last glare, which I match, before turning away. Potter hesitates for a moment, turning back to me with a soft smile. "Thank you." I nod in acknowledgement and watch for a moment as the trio turns away, Fred's arm around Euphemia's shoulders, and that strange twist in my gut returns.

A/N: Wow this is a long one (3.6 words) but I hope you enjoy it and enjoy getting to see Mia and Mattheo actually connecting for once as they begin to start deconstructing some of their preconceived ideas about each other. And protective Weasley twins, my loves.

Summary of scene between the **:

Mia and Mattheo are locked in the broom closet and Mia starts having a panic attack. Mattheo, after realizing what is happening starts trying to calm her down and guiding her breathing while sitting as far away from her as possible. After a while, she is able to calm down and admits that the Dursley's would lock her in the cupboard under the stairs when he misbehaves. (Harry and Mia shared the room that canon Harry sleeps in from Chamber of Secrets onward since they wouldn't both fit under the stairs but didn't want to remove the cupboard aspect completely) They talk a little about why Mia and Harry were given to the Dursley's and Mattheo starts realizing that the Potter's life may not have been as perfect as he has always assumed and feels angry for Mia. He comments that in her panic, Mia called him Mattheo for the first time, and he also apologizes for a quip he makes and that she had to be raised the way she was. Mia then jokes that Mattheo never apologizes.

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