postwar

2

He was an Unspeakable and his expertise was in the mind. The Occlumency he’d once learnt from his Aunt had helped him into the department - he had, after all, left Hogwarts prematurely without a single N.E.W.T to his name - and within a few years Draco Malfoy, sullen and taciturn in his late twenties, had become one of the leading authorities in memory modification research. If only, he often thought, he could find a way to erase certain things from the mind; if only there was a way to transfigure certain bad memories into bad dreams. 

[ ficlets by hpedit ]

3

Britain in Pictures series 

The books were designed to boost morale but perhaps also record the British way of life in case the Germans completed their European campaign by successfully crossing the English Channel. The books were slim volumes with distinctive elegant covers, but it was the star-studded array of authors that made the series really special.

George Orwell wrote about the British people, Cecil Beaton wrote about English photography, the great poet and printer Francis Meynell wrote about English books, John Betjeman (who penned the immortal line” Come, friendly bombs, and fall on Slough” in 1937) wrote about cities and towns, Graham Greene wrote about dramatists, the doyen of sports journalists Neville Cardus wrote about cricket and Edith Sitwell wrote about women. Some of the authors have faded in obscurity but they were all experts in their field during those dark days of World War II.

A wide variety of subjects were covered from battlefields to boxing, clocks to mountaineering, butterflies to farm animals, and from waterways and canals to maps and map-makers. In all, there were were 132 titles. The books also covered the Commonwealth – John Buchan’s wife, Lady Tweedsmuir wrote about Canada while Ngaio Marsh and R M Burdon wrote about New Zealand.

Confessions of a Mother's Diary #1
  • Rose: Mum, I cleaned up the attic yesterday. Guess what I found? Your Diary!
  • Hermione: (Oh no.)
  • Rose: I didn't know you were such a romantic.
  • Hermione: ...
  • Rose: On page 394 you wrote, "He took me on a moonlight broom ride last night. I hate flying but I can't say no to that face. All 30 minutes of that experience was exhilarating. His arms were around me and I knew he would never let me fall. Right there and then, I secretly admitted I love flying if he's on the broom with me. He was so handsome, his hair matches the silver of the moon."
  • Rose: Mum, I know you were smitten. But dad's red hair does not match the silver of the moon.
  • Hermione: Young lady, I'd appreciate it if you don't tell your father this.
Ok but consider for me if you will...

Harry is searching for an engagement ring for Draco. Nothing is good enough obviously because how does anyone buy a once in a lifetime piece of jewelry for the Prince of Slytherin. Especially when he’s Harry Potter and all he knows about jewelry is what the various magical jewelers have told him. And now he finds himself sprawled on the floor in the 20 something-th jewelry store he’s tried, surrounded by squawking sales people telling him the various advantages of different goblin made pieces. He pays them very little mind because in his mind it’s not them disappointing him, it’s him disappointing Draco. He feels tears start to prickle behind his eyes as thoughts invade his mind that if he can’t even get this right how can he kid himself that he deserves Draco? Fixing him breakfast in the mornings and stroking his hair when he has nightmares, not to mention the way their personalities and humor and magic were so compatible it almost burned too bright. But it was perfect. He was perfect. And Harry couldn’t possible find the ring to say all this and it’s not like he was great with words. So now he was on the ground in a jewelry store hours away from his home with tears in his eyes and all he wanted was his goddamn boyfriend to be his goddamn fiancé.
“Harry?”
Harry gave himself whiplash he turned so fast towards Draco’s drawling voice. He looked beautiful. His his cheeks and nose were pink from the cold and snowflakes were stuck to his blonde eyelashes. His grey eyes were somewhere between confusion and amusement. And that was just the last straw for Harry. He burst into tears. Draco yelped and ran to Harry, sitting next to him and putting his arms around him so that Harry’s head rested on his shoulder. He looked utterly bewildered.
“What’s this all about? Didn’t you have something to drop off at work?”
Whoops. Harry completely forgot he’d told Draco that to get away for the afternoon to shop. Harry sniffed and looked up at the man he loved so much and figured it was time to throw his cards on the table.
“ImsosorryDracoIjustloveyousomuchandcantfindaringgoodenoughforyou” he said, all in one shaky breath. Draco looked shocked, then affectionate, the started to laugh.
“What’s so funny? Are you laughing at me you prat?” Harry said indignantly.
When Draco could finally catch his breath he responded “No no love it’s just funny. How long have you been looking?”
“Since Halloween”
“Me too!” Draco explains with a chuckle
“You’re kidding” Harrys face lights up, finally understanding that he was not being made fun of and he began to laugh too. “I’ve been to over 20 stores without buying one” he choked out.
“That’s nothing” Draco says “I’ve bought a ring from almost every store I’ve visited because I think they’re beautiful and you deserve everything beautiful” he went slightly pink at this because they weren’t usually this sappy.
Harry however just grinned at the confession “Well at the risk of sounding like a cheesy fuck, you’re the most beautiful thing and I already have you so you’re worrying was pointless” Harry pressed a quick kiss to Draco’s cheek.
Draco nuzzled his cheek against Harry’s hair, smile bright enough to light up the room. They sat there for a moment before Harry broke the silence “you know what this means right?”
“Hm?” Was all Draco gave as an inquiry
“Well” Harry began “now we both know we want to get married”
Draco chuckled and kissed the top of Harry’s head. “I suppose we do. Though I knew you wanted to marry me I just figured you were too afraid to ask”
“Afraid?? I’m a Gryffindor for Christ’s sake I’m not afraid. I’ll marry you. I’ll marry you right now” Harry retaliated indignantly.
“Ok” Draco said with a sly smile
“Ok?”
“Yeah let’s go to the courthouse. We’ve waited way too long as it is. The rings can wait”
Harry contemplated for a minute before realizing he didn’t need to think about it this was all he’d ever wanted. “Yeah. I’ll take you up on that let’s go”
Draco beamed and helped Harry up and they walked out, ignoring the disdainful glares from the sales people. They apperated to the ministry and as they stood outside they exchanged a look. Green eyes bore into grey and Draco smirked at his soon-to-be husband.
“Scared Potter?”
Harry grinned in response before answering “You wish”
He thought for a second and then added with a wink “Potter”

First Edit.

Perronet House. Elephant and Castle. n 1969 Sir Roger Walters was commissioned by the Greater London Council to design a high density block of social housing to complement the already completed high rise buildings of commercial, educational and governmental establishments. It won a commendation in the 1971 Good Design In Housing awards.

youtube

This week’s Friday video on Wednesday, because SÜRPRISE!!!

What you wanted

Train wreck, catastrophe, call it what you like that’s what Harry Potter is. 

~2k

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Harry James Potter, The Boy Who Lived twice, Savior of Worlds both Wizarding and Muggle, Defender of Justice, Youngest Seeker in a century, Winner of the Triwizard Tournament, Golden Boy, was absolutely trashed.

He was not entirely sure how this had happened, as he had been telling himself and Hermione that while he would go out for drinks with all their friends he wasn’t going to get too crazy. She’d been bugging him about getting out of the house more after he turned down the offer to enter auror training immediately after The War. She thought that by talking to his friends about their careers and relationships he’d figure out just what it was he wanted. If he was being completely honest with himself there did not seem to be a career that felt worthwhile after defeating a Dark Lord, saving the world, and literally dying.

This was most likely the main reason that going out for drinks had turned into eagerly taking any shot placed in front of him. He was happy for his friends and the success that they’d found in life but he couldn’t deny that he was more than a little jealous that they didn’t seem to be as utterly lost as he was. Harry craved to have a purpose again and in that moment he would take anything he could get, even if his mission was simply to get his bloodstream to contain as much alcohol as possible.

Barely able to keep his balance, Harry staggered into the street with a vague idea about getting fish and chips while his booze addled mind was blissfully unaware that it was after midnight and none of the restaurants in Diagon Alley would be open. After a while he simply couldn’t keep himself upright any longer. He sat down on the curb and wrapped his knees to his chest, resting his head on his knees. Unable to keep his eyes open any longer, he had almost drifted off to sleep when strong hands wrench him off his ass and a voice said something to him that he didn’t quite understand so he decided to simply keep his eyes shut and hope this person would let him sleep as he rested his head on their shoulder. No such luck. He was apperated away a second later but thankfully upon arrival at their destination the mystery person guided him to a couch and Harry was out like a light the moment his head hit the pillow.

When he awoke it was not in a pleasant fashion. He only just managed to get to a toilet in the unfamiliar flat before vomiting what seemed like everything he had ever consumed into the pristine bowl. Somewhere in the back of his mind he wondered who knew that could possibly keep a bathroom this clean. Once his stomach decided it had punished him enough for his poor decisions the previous night, he rinsed his mouth out with some water and clutched the edge of the sink, looking himself over in the mirror. Honestly he looked like shite; there was glitter in his hair that he vaguely remembered Seamus shooting out of his wand, he had dark circles under his bloodshot eyes, and his T-shirt and jeans from the night before were wrinkled from being slept in.  But that was a problem for later. For right now he wanted to figure out who had rescued him and thank them. From what he remembered he had been a trainwreck and if it weren’t for this person he would have slept on the street

He wondered how someone had found him at all, given that he hadn’t told anyone at the bar where he was going when he left in a fit of self pity and hunger. He left the bathroom trying to rub away his headache and as he rounded the corner he ran smack into a someone slightly taller and lankier than him. When he bounced back he was stunned into silence, feeling he may never find words again.

Draco Malfoy, impeccably dressed in a grey suit with a matching waistcoat and the shiniest black shoes Harry had ever seen, was sipping tea clutched in both hands and scowling at Harry. The look was so familiar he almost laughed. He also noticed some stirrings in his stomach that he decided to ignore for the time being. He remembered how long it had been since he’d had any sort of romantic or physical anything and decided to chalk up noticing how fit Malfoy was to that. Once the pictures of Harry kissing a man at a gay club a few months ago had graced the cover of Witch Weekly endeavours to get laid or find love or whatever didn’t seem worth it for the stress. A voice snapped him back to the present. “Potter I would reprimand you for lack of coordination but you’re honestly doing a lot better than last night”

Even though he was still scowling there was a glimmer in his eye that Harry thought might mean he was being teased. Harry blushed deeply, which was embarrassing so he blushed even darker. Since when did Malfoy make him blush? He was still unable to find any words at all so he settled for closing his mouth and looking sheepish, rubbing the back of his neck. His surprise was wearing off now, because he knew Malfoy often came to bar nights due to the fact that he worked alongside most of Harry’s friends at the ministry. He did something with potions Harry remembered. He’d never really paid him any mind beyond the occasional glance out of habit, but for the most part after serving his minimal sentence of community service, he seemed to have let go of all the pent up anger. All Harry’s friends swore he was completely different in some ways and exactly the same in others which made him an absolute delight . Harry accepted that but didn’t make any attempt to talk to him more than polite small talk. Some history runs too deep. There had always been so much energy between them.

“Anyway, I have work to do in my study but stay as long as you need to until you’re feeling better” Malfoy said while dipping around the Harry into the room opposite the bathroom which Harry saw had a work bench with a potion kit set out on it before the door snapped shut. Harry quickly told himself that watching Malfoy leave was a totally normal thing to do even if he had watched his arse more than anything else. Once he realized that he hadn’t even managed to get out a “thank you” he mentally scolded himself and decided that making lunch would be a proper thanks.  

He set to work making grilled cheese and tomato soup for both him and Malfoy when realized it had been ages since he had cooked for anyone besides himself. He piled all the sandwiches onto one of Malfoy’s colorful plates and as he was getting matching bowls for the soup he wondered why Malfoy wasn’t living at the Manner. Perhaps he would ask him depending on how this lunch went.

It was right then that Malfoy poked his head into the kitchen. “Something smells amazing,”  he said with a smile. “Is this your version of a thank you? I like it.”

Harry was once again slightly dumbfounded. His friends had been right Malfoy was different. For one he was smiling at Harry which had never happened before. On top of that, his resting expression was something closer to soft and open than the cruel mask he had worn at school. His posh accent had almost disappeared and as Harry noticed all this he thought that maybe he had been slightly obsessed with Malfoy at school to be able to notice all these changes now.

He finally managed to speak “Yeah Malfoy, thanks for saving me from sleeping on the street,” he returned the smile and put all the food on the little dining table he had set earlier.

They sat down and started to eat before Malfoy responded. “Well I couldn’t really leave you on the curb could I? You looked like a kicked crup. What’s the deal with you Potter?” Malfoy sobered at the last question.

“Uh” Harry replied eloquently, “I suppose I’m just trying to find myself,”

Malfoy cocked his head and regarded Harry with a look that reminded Harry of when Dumbledore had seemed to be X-Raying him in the past. It dawned on Harry that maybe he hadn’t meant the question in such a cosmic sense. It seemed as though he was going to say something and then decided against it. Instead when he opened his mouth the last thing Harry ever expected to hear from this man. “Well I found you. And it appeared to be Harry Potter the Drunk Gay Catastrophe. I’d trademark that if I were you,”

They stared at each other for what felt like ages and then both burst out in hysterical laughter. After a few minutes Harry was finally able to catch his breath, wipe the tears away, and manage a response. “Ya know Malfoy everyone has been walking on eggshells around me and you manage to pinpoint exactly where I’m at in life after escorting me home once,”

Malfoy beamed at him and Harry suddenly realized how oddly domestic the scene was. The both of them having finished their food and just sitting there shooting the breeze. He thinks he wouldn’t mind this being a more regular thing.

They sat there and looked at each other for a little longer than was comfortable. A faint blush was creeping up Malfoy’s cheeks. It was so endearing that Harry wanted to reach up and touch him.

Feeling he was misreading the situation in his love-starved state he hopped up. “I think I feel good enough to head home” he blurted out. When Malfoy looked a little crestfallen the Gryffindor in him knew to make his move.

They walked together to the door and lingered there for a little while shuffling their feet and not catching each other’s eyes “Well” Harry said abruptly, “Thanks again for the hospitality. We should definitely hang out again sometime. I’ll keep in touch,” Harry almost couldn’t keep a straight face when Malfoy looked so affronted. Harry walked out the door and shut it behind him.

He kept his door on the handle and allowed himself a grin while he waited a few moments before turning the knob and re-entering the flat. Malfoy let out a yelp of surprise at seeing Harry again so soon but that’s all he could get out before Harry pressed their mouths together for a soft, gentle kiss. When he pulled back Draco was beaming “You prat, I really thought you were just going to walk out like that. It was the rejection of sixth year all over again”

“I couldn’t help myself,” Harry replied with a cheeky smile, taking note of the admission of a crush in school, “I thought you’d look adorable when you’re flustered and I was so right.” he said, pulling Malfoy close and pressed a kiss to his cheek before cupping his face and, he voice suddenly earnest, asking “Can I make it up to you by taking you out to dinner?”

Malfoy made a big show of considering the proposition before responding. “Well… “ he began “I suppose that would be acceptable. Though I may also require drinks since you played with my emotions” he ended with a smirk.

“Very well. I shall pick you up at 7 on Friday” Harry said as he began to leave again, not yet letting go of Draco’s hand. “And can you really blame me for being so conniving?” Harry kissed Malfoy’s hand before dropping it and giving him a wink, “the first house the sorting hat considered putting me in was Slytherin,” All Harry did was laugh warmly as he let the door swing closed, cutting off a spluttering Malfoy.  He wouldn’t go back in again. They would have plenty of time to talk about it on Friday.

Hermione was right. Going out for drinks had helped him figure out exactly what he wanted.  

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Alright guys second fic under my belt. I’ve been reading some truly brilliant fics lately and though this is far from brilliant I was inspired to write. Still waiting on that one great idea that’s just something no one’s ever seen before ya know? Anyway guys thanks so much for reading and for your support and as always feedback is appreciated, I love you all xoxo

4

A great moment from the Nuremberg Trial on 31 August 1946. Rudolf Hess asks to give his final statement to the court sitting down and is allowed to do so. Ribbentrop then holds the microphone for him. After 20 minutes, Justice Lawrence interrupts (Goering and Hess scramble to put on their headphones) to gently tell him to hurry it up with the words, “The Tribunal, therefore, hopes that the Defendant Hess will conclude his speech.”

4

Albert Speer interviewed (in English) in 1976, after being asked why he continues to write and speak about Hitler and his crimes.
  
He was always basically asked the exact same horribly uninteresting questions that most of his interviews just sort of repeat themselves, so I love these rare moments when one gets the sense that he was answering a little more candidly.