“Expulsion?” Newt breathed the word like he was afraid and all you could do was nod meekly; eyes shining with unshed tears.
“The, the, the Headmaster gave me an hour to gather my things and, and, and Pro, pro, professor Dumbledore is supposed to take me home.” You sobbed; burying your face in your hands, missing the flash of agony and guilt that crossed your best friend’s face.
“Oh, (Y/n)…” he said and pulled you into a tight hug as you cried.
“I don’t wanna go,” you whimpered, “I don’t wanna go!”
Your parents greeted you with open arms and you nearly collapsed in relief.
“Oh sweetie,” your mother cooed and your father squeezed the two of you into a massive bear hug. Your professor shifted in the background and you turned to face him, sniffling.
“Thank you,” you whispered, “thank you so much.” The smile he gave you was sad, but there was a glimmer of pride in his ice blue eyes.
“What happened to you was unjust,” he replied, “and I could not, in good faith, stand by and do nothing.”
“Still,” you curled your fists, “without you, I’d have lost my wand too.”
“True,” he agreed calmly, “though I admit that I can do very little else for you except for this.” With a flourish, he pulled out a folded bit of parchment and handed it to you. You took it without complaint, ripping it open and reading its contents greedily. Your mother smacked your shoulder lightly, appalled by your rude behavior.
You didn’t care, too busy drinking in the information that your favorite teacher had given you. Your father laughed and brought your mother in close as she fumed.
“You can take the girl out of Ravenclaw, but you can’t take the Ravenclaw out of the girl. Just like someone else I know.”
You ignored them in favor of meeting Dumbledore’s patient stare.
“Ukraine?” You asked incredulously, “you want me to go to Ukraine?”
“It may not sound glamorous, but it will get you out of the country and away from the public eye.” You didn’t need to be told twice.
“I’ll do it.”
Your mother spent the next month and a half trying to convince you to stay or at least go somewhere safe, like America.
You shot her down every time.
Finally, your day of departure arrived and both you and your parents stood outside; staring down at the portkey that would be taking you to your mission site. Your mother cried.
“Love, please,” she begged, “please, think this out. It’ll be cold and you’ll be the only woman there! I can’t, in good consciousness, let you go!”
“Mum,” you said softly; bringing her in for a hug. “I need this, don’t you understand? I can’t even go to the Leaky Cauldron without people recognizing me. At least this way I’ll be able to recover some semblance of my reputation.”
“Fine, if I can’t convince you, maybe he will.”
“He” turned out to be none other than Newt Scamander.
You blinked in shock, not believing what you were seeing.
“Newt?” You stepped forward; hand reaching out to touch his face before you stopped yourself. He nodded shyly, but refused to meet your eye.
“Wha, what are you doing here?” It was a valid question. Ever since your expulsion, you hadn’t heard a thing from the redhead.
He cleared his throat, eyes flicking up to search your face before drifting away again.
“Your mum called, said you were about to do something monumentally stupid and that she needed me to talk you out of it.”
You bit back a groan.
“Of course she would,” you muttered; pinching the bridge of your nose. “Look, Newt, I’m so happy to see you, I really am, but my portkey is about to leave and I just, I can’t deal with this right now.”
“Deal with what?” There was a dangerous edge to his voice, but you were so caught up with your own problems at the time to notice.
“Deal with this!” You snapped; throwing your hands up in the air. “For the past month I’ve been treated like some sort of criminal for something I didn’t even do! And now, now that I have the chance to get away from the looks and, and, and the gossip, my own mother tries to blackmail me into staying!” Newt stiffened and a dark look crossed his face.
“No one asked you to take the fall.” He spat and you were thoroughly surprised at the bitterness behind his words. Despite it, you let out a humorless laugh.
“Yes, I did, because if I hadn’t, you would’ve.”
There was a brief moment of silence and you let out a heavy sigh, running a hand through your hair.
“Newt,” you finally said, “I don’t want to argue and I don’t want to leave it like this, but I need to go.” He immediately deflated and he looked so heartbroken that you almost wanted to stay. Almost.
“Will you write?” You bit your bottom lip and gave him a helpless shrug.
“I’ll try, but…” His moss green eyes sharpened at your hesitation and he stepped forward; dwarfing your small form.
“Merlin’s beard, your Mum was right. You are doing something monumentally stupid.”
He slumped forward; resting his chin on the top of your head.
“Can you at least tell me what you’re doing?”
Merlin, you wanted to. You’d wanted to tell him since the beginning, but you knew better. The minute she asked, Newt would crumble like paper in the rain and you couldn’t risk it. Not now.
“No, I can’t.”
You could practically see him frown at that and his next words were muffled by your hair.
“I promise not to tell her.”
“That’s what you said when I told you about Eddie Redmayne. Next thing I know, half of Hogwarts was talking about how we did it in the Potion’s cupboard.” He went to retort, but your pocket watch chimed softly and you pulled away to check it.
“I’ve got less than a minute.” You said and he sighed softly.
“You’re still going to go?”
“I have to.”
You barked orders in Russian and the men scrambled to meet them as you drew Hayden’s attention towards you.
“Here love, here! That’s right, that’s right, keep your eyes on me. Ignore the silly men and their silly scrambling.”
The ironbelly roared and flapped his wings; puffs of smoke escaping from his nostrils as he snorted.
“I know, sweetie, I know, but you have to calm down. I promise, everything will be okay, okay? Now be a good boy for mummy and go hunt yourself some dinner. I’m feeling very particular to goat, what about you?”
He let out another roar before lifting off, wind snapping at your hair and clothes as he did so.
After a tense second or so, you relaxed and made an attempt to fix your ruffled appearance. Just as you finished fluffing up your hair, Aventin ran up to you, letter in hand. Absentmindedly, you ruffled the boy’s hair before dropping a sickle into his palm.
Making your way back to your tent, you flipped over the envelope and grinned when you saw Newt’s familiar scrawl. Breaking the seal, you skimmed over its content, the smile that had been on your face slowly sliding off as you did so.
Your legs stopped moving as you reread his final sentence.
Leta and I plan on marrying in the spring and I hope you’ll be back before hand.
He might as well have slapped you in the face.
After everything that girl had put him through, put you through, he wanted to marry her!?
Merlin’s beard, you’d gotten yourself expelled because of her!
Swearing loudly, you ripped up his letter and stomped back into your tent.
Half a bottle of vodka later and you were in the middle of scribing a rather nasty sounding letter to your (former) best friend when Dumbledore apparated in.
He took in your teared stained face and the death grip you had on the neck of your bottle before sighing and vanishing away both the alcohol and your poorly thought out letter.
“I see you received the news.”
You nodded and whimpered; sobbing into his chest as he drew you in for a hug.
“It hurts now, but I promise you, my dear, it lessens with time.”
You didn’t go to the wedding, not because you didn’t want to (you really hadn’t wanted to), but because you were recovering at St. Mungo’s after a nasty accident involving Hayden and a Ministry official.
(The man was still blubbering for the ironbelly’s death.)
Dumbledore sauntered into your hospital room with a bouquet and a sack of Bertie Bott’s Every Flavour Beans. You forced a small smile.
“Flowers from the wedding?”
He chuckled at that; transfiguring the hard plastic seat into something more cushy before sitting down.
“Alas, it was Madame Longbottom that caught it, not I.”
You nodded; sinking back into your pillow tiredly.
There was a stretch of silence and you watched with mild amusement as your former teacher picked through the sweets.
“He was quite disappointed when you didn’t show.” He finally said as he bit into something bright green with unnattractive yellow spots. His face gave away nothing as he chewed.
“Forgive me,” you said dryly, “but his wedding was the farthest thing from my mind as I kept an entire colony of dragons from eating my company.”
“I’d say you were lying, but now that I see you, I’m more inclined to believe your dragon story.”
Your head snapped up to see Newt leaning against the doorframe, his green eyes taking in everything as he stared at your bedridden form. Your heart sunk when you caught sight of the gold band on his hand.
“Merlin, (Y/n),” he muttered, “what were you thinking?”
“If I’m being honest, it was something along the lines of ‘holy Rowena, it’s hot as balls’ and ‘I think there went my left eyebrow’.”
“You know what I mean. What were you doing with dragons!?”
You bit your lip, refusing to meet his eye.
“I can’t tell you.” He sighed and ran a hand through his hair as he walked into the room.
“And why not?”
Because you’ll tell Leta, who’ll tell that sewing circle of hers, which may or may not doom the entirety of Britain.
As if reading your mind, (you wouldn’t be surprised if he could if you were being honest) Albus cleared his throat and took your hand in a fatherly manner.
“Ah yes, about that, my dear. The Ministry has decided that, in light of recent developments, to cancel the project.”
At the same time, Newt asked:
“What Ministry project? (Y/n), when did you start working for the Ministry?”
You ignored him, (e/c) eyes shining with frustration.
I swear, if that quivering pile of shite has done anything…
“Surely, my dear, you’ve noticed that you’re the only one Hayden and his brood respond to, yes?” Another jelly bean passed his lips. “Ever since you’ve been hospitalized no one’s managed to get into the sanctuary, let alone to the ironbellies.”
“So that’s it?” Your hands were gripping tightly at your hair and you drew your knees up so you could rest your elbows on them. “A year and a half of my life wasted and I’ve got nothing to show for it except for a set of unattractive scars.”
“Of course not. The tamers were quite impressed and wrote a glowing recommendation to the Minister. Due to their kindness,” here you made a mental note to send your former team something nice, “you now have an offer at a position in the Ministry’s Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures.”
…scratch that, you were going to murder them as soon as you were discharged.
Sure, he’s learned his lessons about how cockiness gets you nowhere you truly want to be, but let’s face it: Confidence is something Stephen’s known practically all his life. It’s all too easy for him to lapse back into it. Not as dramatically as before, though.
Mainly because the moment he does, you’re right there to poke a pin in that swollen head of his and drag him back down to Earth with you
Practically pleading for him to teach you magic
To be honest, Stephen is hesitant to teach you for a multitude of reasons that range from the fact that he is still technically a novice and therefore probably not the best option, to the fact that he’s a little worried about how you’ll take to the concept.
The training regimen can be demanding and for as many taunts he directs at you, he never wants you to feel discouraged or incompetent if he can help it.
When he and Millicent finally reached the end of the hallway they were both soaking wet, frozen and shaking all over. Draco could feel his rapid heartbeat in the tips of his fingers now, and his breathing was fast and heavy. The water had risen up to three feet high now and the current was getting harder and harder to conquer, even for someone as sturdy as Milly. Draco was rapidly losing faith in their fight against the rising tide, but forced himself not to think about that too much. Unlike Harry walking calmly into his own death wasn’t really his cup of tea.
Checking the first two doors showed them empty, flooded rooms. However, the two furthest doors still had a shiny five and four on them, indicating that for some reason its inhabitants hadn’t gotten out yet. Draco could only pray it was because they slept very deep, and not because of…
He couldn’t get his brain to even think about that, didn’t think he could survive the guilt of causing even more deaths, so instead he pulled out his wand in order to blow the first door out of its hinges. They opened outward into the hallway, so the water pressure would be too strong to open them normally if the dorm was still mostly dry.
“Draco no!” Millicent slapped his arm away, nearly knocking him off his feet. “The force of the water will drive the students away from the door, we have to cut off the upper half.”
By this point Draco’s body was so stiff from the adrenaline and low temperatures he wasn’t even capable of thinking about the huge mistake he’d almost made. Instead he re-aimed his shaking wand and cast a difindo. The corner of the door got ripped off and fell inwards, where it landed with a soft splash. Only then did he hear the panicked voices behind it.
Alive. They were alive.
“Hold on! I’m breaking the top part of the door down. Whatever you do stay away from the windows!” His voice was giving out more and more with each word, and it took him three more tries before the upper part of the door was gone. His hands were shaking too severely now for proper aim.
Behind him Millicent was already pulling out the first student. Second years. Lightweight second years. Circe’s tits how were they going to manage this?
“Get a chair and climb through, I’ll catch you on this side!” He yelled through the gap. Tamara was the first to climb out, followed by Gabrielle, Persephone and Emma. Maria, the last girl to come out of the dorm, was nearly as scrawny as Harry had been in his first year. Draco had to grab her with both hands to prevent the current from pulling her under. The water had nearly reached his belly button now, and when Millicent pulled the last boy out of the dorm the torches went out with him.
“There’s not enough oxygen for fire, use your wand!” It was Daphne yelling at them from the other end of the hallway, or at least that’s what Draco thought. There was no one around to check anymore when Millicent finally managed to produce a lumos charm.
Draco couldn’t help her with that now, he had lost his wand while saving the last girl. She now clung to his arm as if her life depended on it, which it did in this mayhem. One faulty step and they’d get swept off towards the lower basement. The staircase leading to the dungeons below them, the only place for the water to go except for the common room, was only twenty feet away, and the power of the water would have been enough to floor Hagrid. Draco suspected the only reason they hadn’t washed away yet was some sort of unconscious magic. He could only hope that it would hold them until they’d reach the top of the stairs.
“Stay close to the walls and hold on to each other, especially around the other doors where the current is stronger!” Millicent yelled. Then she conjured several floating lights and stuck her wand in her hair, so she could keep her hands free to support the kids. Draco fervently wished it would stay there, because they’d be even more fucked if both of them were wandless.
When they took off Millicent stayed behind the second years, ready to put anyone who tripped back on their feet. Draco stayed mostly at the front. He was sure now that he influenced the water with wandless magic, because it could not be his bony frame that kept him upright in the violent currents around each door opening. It was a true miracle that he hadn’t been swept away by the water yet, especially when you took into account all the floating pieces of furniture that kept colliding with Draco’s body as he shielded the others.
“If Harry doesn’t date me after this heroic bullshit I will murder his sorry ass.” He muttered to no one as the corner of a desk collided with his lower back. He found being a hero was nothing for him, and he couldn’t help but feel a sting of regret thinking back to the moment when he could have ran off. He could have claimed to go and manage the setup of an emergency dorm, or fetch the headmistress, or anything else really. But no, of course he had to fucking decide that this was the moment to be a heroic dipshit with morals and use his soon to be dead body to shield his fellow students.
His fellow students. Now there was a thought that hit home. He wasn’t doing this to fix his reputation or to prove he was a changed man or get into someone’s pants for Circe’s sake. He was doing this for them. For the people who went through hell every day because of the damage he’d done to the reputation of his house. For the friendly smiles and tight hugs that drove away the memories of hostile stares. For the people who had stopped him from going completely insane for the past five months.
“Hold on guys, we’ve nearly reached the common room!” He yelled, trying to fuel the others with his own newfound courage. Their system was working, they were making progress, and he slowly started to believe they might actually make it.
Stupid of him of course, since nothing he ever hoped for came true, and he was about to find out that this wish was no exception.
I hope this was okay. It’s 01:08 here, I’ve read it over 5 times and I just don’t know anymore. Feedback would be greatly appreciated!
Warnings: Angst, death of family member, sadness, little bit of fighting, comforting, fluff.
Summary: Draco notices the sadness in Y/n’s eyes, even when no one else does.
A/N: This was a request from anon - Sooo I might totes wanna request a Draco x Hufflepuff!male reader ;v; The reader being a very outgoing, short, slightly chubby and uplifting person. The reader is also close friends with Neville, I’m a sucker for angst and fluff so combining those things would be perf too. …Made it gender neutral and didn’t do the whole chubby short appearance, cos I never really use descriptions when it comes to the reader. Hope u don’t mind!! And hope u like it!
Could you possibly do a newt x reader where the reader is a writer like newt and everyone thinks they’re in a relationship but they’re not but then he asked her out at in interview or some event? - Anon
You’re gonna have to work with me here since in this one wizards use the Internet
E/C: Eye color
H/C: Hair color
L/N: Last name
Hope you like it, a lot longer than I intended
You were the author of a book on magical herbs and their primary use. Your book had become a worldwide sensation the same time as another wizard’s book had rose to fame. Newt Scamander, and his book, Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them. You and Newt had crossed paths once or twice, yes. Once you met Newt to ask him a few questions about if any of his herbivorous eat any of the plants you were studying. He gladly answered all of your questions and even took the time to ask you a few questions himself. That was all; nothing special or romantic.
But your fans wanted different.
Most of them thought you two would be the absolute perfect couple. You never thought
much of it. That is, until people began writing this weird stuff called “fan fiction” about you and Newt. #Y/N Scamander was everywhere. Being the curious individual you were, you read some of it. That was when you realized what a cute couple you two would actually be. Sure, you did think Newt was a bit cute. Okay… a lot. The beautiful cinnamon dusted curls, seafoam eyes, the adorable freckles that dotted his face…
As it turns out, Newt sees you the same way. Luscious H/C locks, sparkling E/C eyes, perfect everything. The last time you saw each other was a little over a month ago at a book signing.
Two days later, the Ministry sent out letters (by owl, of course) to selected people involved in the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures from England containing information about a party being held at the Ministry of Magic. It also included a list of all others that were invited.
Newt’s eyes scanned the list for your name, a glimmer of hope shown inside him even though you weren’t a part of that department. Newt’s heart sank a little when he saw your name wasn’t there. But then, his eyes drifted to the bottom of the paper where it said:
You are permitted to bring a maximum of one guest with you.
It didn’t take long for him to decide who he wanted to invite. None other than you, Y/N L/N. Newt figured writing a letter to ask you out was going to be much easier than asking you in person. He sat down at his messy desk in his case and dipped his quill in the large bottle of ink and began writing his letter to you.
Once Newt finished the squiggle of the ‘R’ in on his signature, he neatly placed the note in an envelope and finished it off with a red wax seal before giving it to his messenger owl to then deliver to you.
**Time skip to your house**
You were observing the plants you kept on the windowsill of your bedroom when an owl suddenly flew over causing you to jump a little and began ‘tap tap tapping’ on the window holding a letter between its beak. You opened the window, retrieved the letter, and the owl flew off.
“I wonder if it’s more fan mail,” you whispered to yourself. You sat at your desk and tore open the letter.
Dear Miss L/N,
I believe you are familiar with me: Newt Scamander. Recently I was invited to a party at the Ministry of Magic for members of the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures on April 26. I am allowed to bring one guest to attend with me, and I would like that guest to be you. Please note that it is perfectly fine if you decline. However, if you do wish to come, please respond to this letter as soon as you get it.
You were blushing furiously even though it was nothing more than ink on a paper. Boy, did this man have beautiful handwriting. Of course your answer was yes.
Newt Scamander! Asked ME to attend an event at the Ministry with him! You thought.
You sat down on your desk and grabbed a piece of parchment from a stack you always had handy. You quickly wrote down your response and then gave it to your owl where she flew off to give it to Newt.
Newt was full of happiness when he saw your response.
Dear Mr. Scamander,
Yes, I will gladly attend the party with you! It will be very nice to be in your company again.
Thank you ever so much,
**Time skip to the party**
Newt stood in the corner of the building to avoid the other many witches and wizards bustling about. Silver trays with fancy foods and drinks floated around to guests, but Newt turned down every one. He was too excited to see you. Never in a million years did he think you would agree to be his date.
Newt checked his pocket watch. It had been ten minutes since he had arrived, but you were still nowhere in sight.
Just a bit late, that’s all. Newt reassured himself.
Just then, Newt heard the fast-paced click-clack of heels coming from his left. He turned around to see you, breathing heavier than normal.
“So sorry I’m late. I was planning to apparate straight here ten minutes ago but I lost my wand in my garden,” you said.
Newt grinned at how cute you were. “A larger garden than most, I suppose?”
“Very,” you responded, smiling.
“Did I mention you look beautiful, Miss L/N? Thank you so much for coming with me, by the way.”
You smiled widely at Newt’s comment. “And you look quite handsome, Mr. Scamander. But please, call me Y/N.
“Of course, Y/N. Call me Newt.”
The two of you began making small talk about what had happened in your lives since you last saw each other. Newt told you about his new discoveries with his magical creatures; and you spoke about your garden and new plant hybrids you had been working on.
Eventually you decided to bring up the topic of fanfiction.
“Newt, have you ever heard of… fanfiction?” you asked cautiously.
He thought for a moment, then shook his head. “No, I don’t believe I’m familiar with it. Could you please tell me?”
“So… it’s basically that a lot of our fans have taken up a hobby of writing stories about the two of us and then putting them on the Internet.”
“What kind of stories?” Newt asked, genuine curiosity evident in his voice.
“Well…” you paused. “They’re about us… if we were… a couple.”
Newt’s eyes widened. “A couple?”
“Yeah…” you realized you had just made a huge mistake.
Or maybe not.
After a few moments, Newt reached down and took both of your hands in his. “Well… then maybe we should give the public what they want.”
His eyes moved down to look at your lips for a brief second. You realized what he was going to do.
Newt leaned in, and gently pressed his lips to yours, one hand now on your waist. You kissed back, lightly stroking his hair. It only lasted a few seconds before you both pulled away. You were in a public place, after all.
“You don’t know how long I’ve been wanting to do that,” Newt said.
“Same here,” you replied.
Newt brought his arm around your waist. “Maybe we should take this somewhere more… private?”
You nodded. “Agreed.”
Please let me know what you thought of it and what I could do better next time!
Hey, I just wanted to write a little Scorose thing. Nothing special. I was just bored. A falling back in love maybe??? I don’t know. I don’t even know if I should keep writing this. This is what happens when Cara is angsty and bored. Loove yas!
She was so many rules. “Don’t eat with your mouth full,” or; “Don’t forget to make sure he wears socks, it’s not the middle of summer out there!”
Sometimes it was more serious things that only idiots would do like; “Don’t swear in front of him – he hangs on to everything you say,” or; “Don’t let him touch your wand when you’re not around!”
“I don’t let him do that because it remind me too much of you.”
Sometimes it was spark-like backfires like; “I don’t want him to end up like you.”
Rose was all logical thought processes and painful truths. Everything she said was for a reason. Everything she did had a good reason behind it. That’s why she left me that hot, summers day. She had thought about it, analysed it and to her, it was the most logical thing to do.
I had drunk myself stupid at James’ apartment, I don’t know how many nights I had cried myself to sleep in James’ sheets and soaked Al’s shoulder. I don’t know how many times I lost my wand in a drunk mess – somewhere on the streets of Muggle London that made my dad’s temple pulse and literal steam come out of his ears. He would yell at me; “Why so reckless, Scorpius!”
I would reply with something about the amount of money he had and what use was it if not used on cleaning up my depressive mess. He hated me. I think a lot of people did.
She would come over to James’ flat and everytime I heard the sharp snap of her apparating, I would assume she was back to come and apologise and she was here to tell me I wasn’t a disgusting ferret and she was going to forgive me for my fuck ups and she just wanted to be a family again. I almost leapt out of the couch everytime she showed. But she never did forgive me, and she didn’t want to be a family again and she was probably even more disgusted than ever because how could I be a father when I was neck-deep in so many bottles of booze and I smelled worse than an ash tray? Sometimes she did promise to come back, only to give me my wand that she confiscated because I could kill someone while under the influence.
At one point, I didn’t see our son for a week.
Our son, our light. He was the true Chosen One. Even Harry Potter himself said that how could one kid brighten so many lives? He was supposed to be the one who broke us - tore the great Malfoy name and cursed the great Weasley one. But he didn’t. He was the intertwining of the two Great Families. They talk of the Sacred Twenty-Eight as if it were some myth, but our son was so real. So, so real.
They all say that if you have a kid so young, sixteen and in short, we were in love, you’ve signed yourself up for a life doomed. Dooms day. After all, how can kids have kids? You’re supposed to do more, see more, become more. But I can’t have become any more than I was as a sixteen year old Scorpius. I was invincible, indestructible, impenetrable; all because of a squashed up kid wrapped up in muslin. He was blue eyes and blonde hair. He was loud screams and soft touches. He was my everything. He is my everything. I think sometimes I breathe because he’s around and at points, I don’t think I would be breathing if he was not here. Paths seemed clearer and shit, I loved Rose more for it. I loved her so much, I would have taken every hex, every curse, every Unforgivable Curse for that girl with the wild hair and the wilder eyes. And that in itself was the start of the end.
My mum told me once that it was hard to love a Malfoy. My dad told me once it was like loving a brick, loving a Malfoy. We ran, we skipped it, we ran from the darkness that followed us but as much as we had ditched it, it’s true. There’s always a little dark in us. Sometimes I pray to Merlin that my son has just the right amount of Weasley in him to dispel any darkness from him. Maybe he’d grow up and be all sharp words and sarcastic remarks. Just like his mum.
One of Rose’s many rules is a universal one: Don’t lie.
My mind thought over the lies so much, I find some sort of sickening comfort within when I think that the reason why I lied to her in the first place was not to hurt her.
I know that it hurt her more when she found out that I thought that might have worked.
I’ve now had eight months of thinking over my lies.
I did have my own flat. I lived on top of the Leaky Cauldron. Rose came and inspected it once. She told me she’d kill me if our son set foot in there, but I liked it. It had a bed – sleep was one of my saving graces and it took me away from the realisation that I had fucked up, even if just for a few hours. Caelum wasn’t allowed there, it was just as well because I was kicked out after eight weeks. Kicked out and shoved to the comforting embrace of James.
James didn’t mind. He was away most of the time and when he was home, he had a drinking buddy. Not just your usual one, oh no, I was far too dramatic for that. It was all loud singing and falling asleep on the toilet type of drinking. A cry yourself to sleep on your best mate’s brother’s shoulder sort of affair.
I’ve been on James’ couch ever since.
Today was different. I could feel it was different. She called me first thing this morning and didn’t question where I was. She said I could have our son for the entire weekend without asking if I had proper linen or knew how to work James’ TV. She didn’t tell me that her dad was going to come and pick him up at eight AM on Sunday morning so I was robbed of a whole day with him; “bring him home when you’re ready,” was her exact words. And I snatched them up.
I cleaned James’ house, I got rid of the empty beer bottles and threw out the fish n chip wrappers. I shaved, I wore deodorant. I smoked a pack of cigarettes.
It’s weird how you lose yourself a little when someone leaves. You don’t realise how much you relied on a single person until they tell you that they don’t want you anymore.
They don’t want you to do this to them anymore.
That is the curse of falling in love when you don’t even know what love is. I mean, I think I know. I think I knew. Because even when we were young I had that dull throbbing in my chest every time she walked in and every word she spoke just astounded me. Maybe it wasn’t love at all. Maybe it was an obsession. I admit, I lost myself a little when she left. I was cold and everything was pitch black but I remember, I would never forget. It was two o'clock on a Summer’s afternoon when she found it appropriate to not forgive me.
It wasn’t the Summer anymore. Today was cold, dark and bleak. Typical of Britain’s forecast. It was announced through Diagon Alley when I went to visit Fred that we were in for a weeks worth of rain. But today, I don’t feel it. I only feel that my son is coming to me for an entire weekend and I had things I needed to buy from WWW’s even though he gets a lot of it’s shit for free.
I had chucked a large sum of cash on the counter, Fred gathered me up the best of the best.
This weekend was going to be the best of the best even if I did follow Rose’s rules.
I’m pacing the lounge room of James’ flat. There are pictures everywhere. Even a picture of Rose, Caelum and I when he’s hours old, nothing but fresh faces and smiles are in this picture. We move, barely. He moves a lot. He was just born, he wanted to experience the world. The one his young parents gave him. Maybe it was true; maybe we’re just another statistic.
I hear a truck pull up into the drive way. It was so Muggle of her but our son goes to a Muggle school. She wanted to fit in. She chucked the cash I had given her as a way to say sorry at the dealer and drove away in a Ford Escape. There was no escaping that it was paid with Malfoy money or that it was a huge statement on Rose’s behalf.
I hear doors slamming. Hurried scurries up the steps. “Come on, mum!” he shouts and I rush to the door, just as quickly as he does because I can’t help it.
I open the door and grin, my arms out, waiting for my son. “Cae!” I say, “Hey mate!” I scoop him up into my arms, bury my face in his hair, kiss him a thousand times all over his face which he hates and I absolutely, positively love.
He groans and makes a choking sound; “Don’t dad!” he whines, shaking his face free from me. “You’re so gross!”
Rose saunters over, hair flying behind her but she’s still wearing her medi-witch robes. Her wand stuck into the messy bun and she’s frowning. “There’s a case of Witches Flu going around,” she states.
“I know,” I mutter, putting my son down. “I work at the same place as you.”
She doesn’t like being told anything. Rose Weasley was a know it all but the worst part was she actually knew it all. Every thing.
We had smoothly transitioned into the new life. Rose insisted that we make this as seamless as possible. We have a six year old son who doesn’t take well to glitches in the system, we had to work hard to make things easy for him. She had a reason for everything, just like she had a reason for making me move out.
We were twenty three years old and so old. I had aged two decades easily in the last eight months. It made me feel sick, it made my voice hitch, it made my hands shake when I drop our son off to his ‘mum’s’ place. It shouldn’t be like that – the great divide.
Often when I would drop him back off to her she would be leaned over a piece of parchment and scratching with a quill. She would still had her medi-witch gear on but her hair was always loose and falling like it was now. I always knocked awkwardly on the door as if I shouldn’t be there but I shared that home with her for three years, in the corner of her own lounge room was still a photo of us, seventeen and glowing, son bouncing in our arms, fresh faced and young just like the one here. And scared. Shit scared.
We made so many mistakes in the short time span, it was a wonder we didn’t combust earlier, a disaster of sparks and stars. We had our son when every odd was against us, our families were against us, shit, even we were against ourselves.
“So, how are you?,” I mutter to her, seeing our son sprawled out on the couch with his blonde hair everywhere and wearing a fake Harry Potter scar on his head. “Uh, did you buy that tattoo for him?”
Rose looks up briefly at me, her glasses slipping down the bridge of her nose but she slides them up and sniggers when she looks over at our son. “No, that would be your best friend, Albus.”
She walks in and dumps her hand bag on the floor before taking a seat at James’ table which is only there to make this place feel somewhat like a home.
“Your cousin,” I mumble but I take the seat across from her. “How was your day?” I ask.
“We work at the same place.”
“I wasn’t there today,” I reply.
“Hmmm,” she says.
She looks down and starts reading a copy of Witch Weekly that has James’ face plastered to the front, not meeting my eyes. I want to yell, scream at her, I want to pull the magazine out from under her hands, screw it up, chuck it in the fire. I want her to look at me because she never looks at me anymore. I need her to see me, see I’m bleeding from the inside because the light has gone out and she just doesn’t notice me anymore. “So we just don’t talk anymore?” I ask her.
“Hmmm,” she said quietly. “We need to organise which weekend is yours and which is mine,” she states matter-of-factly.
I didn’t want to discuss things like whose weekend is whose. I didn’t need it solidified that we didn’t make it and we needed to organise such things that tore our son and made him into another statistic. “Does it need organising? Can it wait?”
“Do you want a cuppa?” she asks, getting up quickly and putting the quill behind her ear. She flicks her wand in the direction of the cup cupboard and two cups come flying out. “I think I do.”
She drunk tea when she was happy. She drunk a hell of a lot when she was stressed. Her choice of pot was huge, a gift from Luna Lovegood to James for his housewarming, apparently. “Sure, if it will make you ease up…”
She hated that. I was wondering if I would see sparks flying at my head. “I’m over fighting.”
“Do you think I enjoy it?” I ask her. “Because I don’t. I’m sick of this, the tension we used to always -” I’m cut off.
“We used to always talk? Yeah, I know, Scorpius,” she says exhaling loudly. “We used to stay up all night and talk about everything.”
“Then why can’t we?” I hiss but she shushes me, eyes flicking around.
“I don’t want to fight with Cae around,” she says through her teeth.
I look back into the lounge room but it looks like our son has figured out the TV which is just as well, because I didn’t want to lie to Rose again and tell her I knew how to work it. “He’s occupied,” I tell her. “And we’re not fighting.”
She rolls her eyes as she flicks her wand at the kettle on the stove. “Yeah, sure,” she says.
“You know, for a person who states she doesn’t want to fight anymore, you keep going on…”
She laughs a little before shoving my shoulder as I lean against the bench. It had been five months since she’s actually touched me. I wonder if it’s stupid to think that maybe she’s burnt through my shirt and straight onto my skin but I shouldn’t think about those things. How her hands feel on me. “I’m sorry -” this time I cut her off.
“Call Rita Skeeter, Rose Weasley is sorry!” I say, grinning at her.
She smiles weakly back. “Stop smiling at me,” she mumbles. “We have no reason to smile.”
“I do,” I tell her honestly. “Because you’re talking to me and that’s always something to smile about.”
“Stop it with your words, Scorp, we need to be serious,” she says, meeting my eyes. I can see they’re still deep blue and worrying. Her eyebrows are knitting together, she was definitely worrying.
“I cleaned up,” I tell her, moving my arms through the kitchen. “Can you tell?”
“Well done,” she says in the same voice that she uses when Caelum brushes his teeth.
“Thank you,” I say anyways.
She sighs and starts searching the cupboards for the tea leaves that James doesn’t own. “You busy tomorrow?” she asks me.
She turns to look at me and now I’m confused. “You’re not going to take him tomorrow, are you? I thought you said I could have him until Sunday…”
She shakes her head and her eyes widen. “Shit. No. I just meant, if you guys were going to do something, then maybe I’d tag along…”
I raise an eyebrow and put my hands on my hips, I try not to smirk, it will just piss her off more. “We could do something if you wanted to?” I challenge.
She inhales deeply and nods. “Yeah, that would be good.”
“Why the change in attitude?” I ask her. I didn’t get where this was going or why it was even going at all but I didn’t want to lose this – the moving forward.
“If this is how our life is going to be, then I want to move on, for the sake of our son.”
I sigh and nod. Accepting this. “Ok, let’s move forward.”
“Or maybe,” she says, looking down at the floor. “We should just start all over again.”
I don’t say anything, I just smile to myself. Maybe I had a shot at things, maybe. Maybe I just need to stop taking my chances and see where this was going to take us.
So, @calbits and me had this idea about a miniseries of MACUSA’s day to day life. Or more. Cal had the idea and I expanded it.
So. Just imagine.
every episode is focused on one character
the first one starts with Tina, focusing on her first day of Auror training under one Percival Graves
he is her mentor and intimidating af but she acts tough because she is—duh!—Tina Goldstein and she ain’t afraid (of no ghost)
and over time she (and other cadets) learn that Graves isn’t that terrifying to begin with—he’s more like Papa Graves (who cares far too much about his Aurors)
but the older Aurors notice and take them aside and tell them to still act terrified because otherwise it would make Papa Graves sad—and no one wants Papa Graves to be sad
and Graves secretly cares for everyone and they return the sentiment, like putting a blanket over him when he falls asleep at his desk—again
or making sure he eats and has a proper lunch even if they need to place it on his desk when he is not looking
and all Aurors working together on a difficult case and writing the report together in Graves’ office only to fall asleep on each other from pure exhaustion
or an episode about an Auror, barely out of training, a Junior, trying to solve their first case on their own and they fail and the child dies
they feel guilty beyond believe because they haven’t only failed the child and their parents but also MACUSA and Papa Graves
and as Graves asks them to his office they are sure that they get fired but Graves sits them down and pushes a cup of tea into their hands and tells them about his first case that he also failed
he tells them that no one is responsible for the death of the child except for the murderer
and then there is this rare moment where Graves hugs one of his subordinates and they break down crying for hours on end and Graves waits patiently, his shirt getting damp with tears
or we have an episode from the perspective of one Mr Abernathy
who has lost his wand and makes the whole of MACUSA search for it and everyone is pissed beyond believe until they find it in a drawer of his fucking desk
but what about a day in Queenie’s life, bringing everyone coffee and being a cinnamon bun but also being very manipulative for the sake of the fun
and no one knows how she does it because she and Tina have told no one that she is a Legilimens (but Graves probably knows)
or one Seraphina Picquery and her day to day life in her office, consisting of groaning over Graves
‘No, Percival, you can’t do this, oh god, please don’t, Russia will have my head!’
and pushing Abernathy around to bring her coffee and shaking her head in frustration
‘How can this world be so fucked up and still function properly?!’
and then there is this man that comes to visit Graves now and again and nobody really knows who that is but Graves seems to like him good enough to laugh about his stupid jokes and touch him now and again without being forced to do so
a good looking fella, British, but no one dares to talk to him ad so no one knows that one Director Percival Graves and one War Hero Theseus Scamander fought together in the war and became very good friends (not to mention lovers)
and Tina and Queenie being jewish but celebrating Christmas nonetheless because Tina asks Graves what he does for Christmas and he replies ‘Nothing’
she invites him over then and bribes him into coming before she realises that they don’t celebrate Christmas
but Queenie is all chill and magics a fantastic dinner anyways and Graves actually shows up and enjoys himself
and then there is Grindelwald, impersonating Graves and nobody knows, not even the Aurors, and Newt comes to New York and everything gets out of control but in the end they find the real Graves
they apologise profusely because they failed Papa Graves and how can they look him in the eye anymore?
i got a request for something like this so long ago and i’m sorry its taken so long but i have no motivation most of the time
*i don’t know if you guys know what this means lol but my mum used to call me it all the time as a kid cause i was so clumsy all the time but here’s the definition - blunderbuss: a clumsy, unsubtle person.*
Your soaked converse sloshed on the grass with every step you took towards the castle. You hugged your jacket closer to yourself, trying to preserve your body heat but it only caused more water to fall to your feet. You groaned as you brushed your hair out of your face, only you would be capable of tripping into the lake at a temperature of below fucking freezing. You had always been clumsy; you had fallen over, lost your wand and spilled your potions countless times but this… This was on a whole other level. You felt like a human icicle as you trudged your way through the doors of the castle, grumbling to yourself as you passed an exasperated Professor McGonagall.
“Ms. Y/L/N, what in God’s name happened to you?” She question, her eyes scanning you up and down with a look of cautioned disgust. “I fell in the lake.” You said with a dangerous finality to your tone that warned her, and the snickering Ravenclaws walking by, not to question you about it. She nodded her head whilst trying to maintain her authoritative composure but you could see the hint of a smile on her lips. This only made you more grumpy. “Yes.. well, go and dry off. You’re dripping on the floor and I’m sure the elves won’t thank you for it.” She told you, waving her wand in the direction of the common room. Your jaw dropped, “Can’t you just dry me off with a spell?” You whined like a child, your hands flying into the air before landing at your sides with a sound like slapping the top of water. “What kind of teacher would I be if I did all the work?” She said dismissively, before turning and gliding down towards the great hall. You stomped your foot in frustration before slushing your way up the staircases, your eyes glaring at every student you passed before finally making it to the common room. Before the Fat Lady could even ask you had nearly growled the password at her, “Mandrake leaf”. The door swung open in front of you and you stumbled through it, tripping over your dripping robes. You walked into the familiar warmth of the Gryffindor common room and without so much as glancing at your boyfriend and his friends who you knew were sitting on the couch, you marched straight towards the stairs. You could almost feel Remus give his friends a look of utter bewilderment before he stood up and followed you. You walked into the room and heard Remus shut the door behind him when you finally looked at him. “What the bloody hell happened?” He asked while trying to hide the obvious grin on his face. You scowled at his obvious enjoyment of your situation before you began to strip down. Throwing the wet clothes onto the floor with a grunt you immediately slipped on your fuzzy socks and one of Remus’ sweaters (which he smirked at) that he had left on your bed the night before. You glanced at your boyfriend, who had sat down on your bed; he looked at you cautiously before patting his legs, inviting you to sit. You collapsed onto his lap with a heavy sigh, burying your face into his neck. “Love, what happened?” Remus asked you gently, a hand tracing up and down your back softly. You waited a few seconds before answering, knowing you would probably never hear the end of it. “I fell in the lake.” You mumbled quietly, hoping he wouldn’t hear you. Apparently God was not on your side today. Remus burst out laughing. Covering his mouth with his hand to muffle his large barks of laughter, he fell back onto your bed, you still sitting on his thighs, frowning at his reaction. As he let out another fit of giggles you had had enough. “Remus it isn’t funny, I had to walk all the way back here soaking wet!” You whined, hitting his chest in an effort to get him to take you seriously. “I’m sorry love” he managed through his laughter, sitting back up and wrapping his arms around you. “Are you cold?” He questioned, the happy grin still spread on his face. The amusement in his eyes lifted your spirits a little as you nodded your head and jutted out your bottom lip. “Okay, c'mere sweet” he said simply before scooting back towards your pillow and holding the blankets open for you. You smiled smugly to yourself and scurried underneath the blankets before snuggling into Remus’ warm chest. You shut your eyes and let a comfy sigh escape your lips after Remus planted a quick kiss to your forehead before resting his chin on the top of your head; “Love you blunderbuss.”
So are the rats like employed by the Butterflys now? Or did they just go back to that bar and make fun of more poor, defenseless creatures like Ludo. Cause I mean he lost his wand and I'm pretty sure that was the only thing that kept them from just killing him
The rats will now work in Mewni’s sewers, because that’s what rats are supposed to do.
“Cissy, put the boys in the cellar! I think I need a conversation with this one… girl to girl.”
Bellatrix Lestrange. I think I’m pretty happy with this one. Less so with James or Remus, whom I also attempted. I’ll post Remus just to ask for advice for how to improve.
Imma tag a bunch of roleplayers on this and the Remus post just to get opinions. I hope none of you mind, but I’m kinda debating actually getting into this and making gifs and stuff, but I’d have to invest in a camera and lighting, so I thought I’d ask opinions first.
I stared into my phone, and kept scrolling down for more stuff at facebook. I was bored, and I didn’t mind time pass through like snails racing in a speedway.
When I took notice of the time shown at my phone, I noticed that it was getting late. 7 PM Late. And Star wasn’t home.
2 hours ago, she said that she had somewhere important to go, and that she will come back around 6:30 PM. I didn’t bother asking more details why, but I bothered waving to her as she was about to leave.
It may not seem to be a bad boy thing to worry about her, but as a secret boyfriend of her, that was an exception
I wondered that her being late would mean something bad. Not normal girl bad, but Mewni princess with a magical wand that could level a continent bad. Kidnapped by Ludo or anyone at all? Lost her way to this house? Impossible. She lived here for quite some time now.
I called her cellphone, but no response. After a few missed calls and a few voice messages, I decided it was time to look for Star.
I had to make a snack first, just in case it’ll take me long. Quickly after taking a slice of bread, covering it with chocolate, and rolled it up, I went to the front door and about to start my search for Star.
When I opened the door, my search was indeed over. Star limped to the front door and looked like she was beaten up, and not in a good way.
Nova; *opens her mouth* wait, how did we meet rocky?
Star: *looking at Rocky whose sitting on her shoulder* We go way back.
Nova; umm okay. you could say it’s a private moment.
Star: haha sorry sweetie.
Star is sitting across the table from a baby Rocky wrapped up in a towel, the heavy downpour of the rain dully echoed within the house. Glossaryck floats silently in front of the bundled raccoon.
“my queen, are you sure about this? you will be altering the fate of this creature. who knows what repercussions that could have.”
Star was about to reply when a cute excited giggle filled the household, the rush of clapping hands and cooing warming Star’s heart. the sounds of 7 year old Nova playing with her father filled the air
“Glossaryck, i don’t have time to be sure” Star said with a hint of finality “Everyone is gathering at point zero at the end of the week…..if…..if something were to happen to me or Marco or…or we lost the wand…..I need to know Nova’s safe.I trust mom, dad and the Diaz’s to raise her to be an amazing queen…but I can’t leave until I know someone is protecting her.”
Glossaryck looked over the half drowned Rocky, clutching the towel tightly around herself.
“Admittedly this creature was not what i expected when you decided to bond a guardian to the princess. Still, there is something about this….Rocky was it?”
Rocky gave a short nod
“Rocky that seems magical. she is no ordinary raccoon….very well my queen, if you wish it , it shall be.”
Star looked directly at Rocky who stared back curiously.
“Will you do it? will you protect my child? We can offer you food and shelter….though there is the real chance you may stop aging all together…..”
Rocky: removed the blanket, folding it before hopping on the table and scurrying over to Star. The two stared at one another before Rocky gently patted her nose.
“Keep in mind my queen that if you were to have another child” Glossaryck explained “The spell would transfer to them and Rocky will become their protector instead of Nova’s.”
“I know Glossaryck but it won’t matter. Nova will grow to be an amazing queen and my other child a fun loving prince. Because yeah he’s my kid!”
glossaryck floated in front of Rocky who anxiously flicked her tail in response.
“Don’t worry” Glossaryck patted her head “I’ll be around to annoy you no matter what.”
Rocky just glared as Glossaryck glowed in deep, bright light.