Henry Fawley

Legal researcher, half-Veela, don't be mad because I'm famous and prettier than you.(Muggles are cool, you guys are just racist)

[fawley-en-face]

remuslxpns‌:

There were still a few corridors and corners to avoid and Remus guided the group effortlessly but attentively. It was the break and they didn’t need to be anxious about finding professors or prefects since everyone was in the Great Hall, but there was Mrs. Norris lurking around here somewhere. 

Remus turned his attention to Henry with a raised brow and grin. When they announced the information about the map at the last Order meeting, he didn’t expect that many people to be surprised. First at there being a map of the school at all which was helpful in this context, but the fact that they could make it seemed like an overwhelming concept to others. “Peter did most of the work,” Remus admitted with a sad smile. “It took a few months to find all the passageways…we knew where some were and Sirius and James were eager to find more.”

Henry wasn’t really worried about stealth; he naturally tread lightly, and he’d toned down his usual loud style of attire, obviously. Still, he kept his voice low. 

Remus’ mischievous expression was new to Henry; he knew, intellectually speaking, that Remus was part of his cousin’s fouresome for a reason, but the only Remus that Henry had met wore sweaters and had a steady boyfriend and a child and only occasionally got heated- when they talked about creatures, of course. The man grinning at him was entirely different, but Henry could see shades of the intelligent, methodical Remus in him. It was just as alluring as it was jarring, which he was sure showed on his face. 

“Ah. I believe that,” he said softly. Peter was the understated of the four, but quite an influence, apparently. At the mention of secret passages he huffed. “Merlin. I should’ve befriended James way earlier; my Hogwarts self would’ve killed for secret places to hide. The magic involved, though- it seems incredibly complicated. You all really just did this so you could be more effective at causing trouble?”

There had been a slight increase in the skill and size of the four friends’ shenanigans partway through school, Henry reflected. 

[oldmemesandhelpandthings-gone]

Send Me Your Assumptions About My Muse

and I’ll respond with “Correct”, “Nope”, or “Kinda”.

[valentinanottt]

@zephyrbcll @trisxrojas @casruncorn @patrickfinnegans

[fawley-en-face]

@thebaileyshaw @alex-moody-church @nicholas-chastain @softboi-malfoy

[alannasroleplaymemes-moved]

Send a 🙌 and I’ll introduce you to an NPC related to my Muse.

This means any minor ‘background character’ in my Muse’s life, such as a relative, coworker, friend, rival, etc. that they interact with in their personal canon. 

[fawley-en-face]

@thebaileyshaw @softboi-malfoy @nicholas-chastain @alex-moody-church

[fawley-en-face]

ladylilianazabini​:

Liliana wasn’t exactly on a mission so much as looking out for something interesting to entertain her night when the nanny had Blaise for the evening. She hadn’t expected interesting to suddenly appear beside her, but Liliana did enjoy a good opportunity. 

“Depends on what we’re having,” she said, but Liliana didn’t hide her smile in the least. Henry certainly had the ability to part a crowd. That was a useful skill, and she reminded herself that he was half-veela and therefore deserved a few extra perks. “Something as sweet as you, I hope.”

Henry matched Liliana’s smile, glad that he was received as well as he’d wanted to be. He needed so thoroughly throw himself into someone else’s orbit tonight and who better than Liliana, who carried herself like something priceless?

“Sweeter, I think,” he said, glancing down at the drink. After a certain point he’d stopped paying attention to what people were buying him, honestly. Plenty of strangers tried to woo him with drinks, and he’d indulged a few, ignored others, left one woman thoroughly breathless in a corner near the bathrooms. The only thing that kept him walking straight was a high tolerance and natural grace. “But it certainly doesn’t need to stay that way. What are you in the mood for, ma déesse?”

[fawley-en-face]

(A Depressing Update)

June 1981

Henry Finally Goes To Rehab (under circumstances outlined below)

Sybill is death. Bellatrix Lestrange gouged out her eyes, tortured her, and then she starved to death in the dark because the DMLE was too slow to find her. Henry Charms his way into getting a hold of crime scene photos, carefully picking his way around to avoid Moody. It’s like Camilla all over again. It hasn’t even been a full year yet, has it? Since he woke up and pictures of his sister’s mutilated corpse were splashed across the Daily Prophet? 

Henry loses time, then; his last coherent memory is standing in the middle of his room in the flat he shares with Rowan, the pictures of Syb in his violently trembling hands. He’s lost time before; it’s a side-effect of all the drugs he’s abused in the past, is still abusing. It’s even a symptom of withdrawal sometimes. He just can’t fucking win. So when he comes back to himself he reaches for the nearest bottle of booze, and it burns down his throat. 

He loses time again.

                                                            *

His twin sister is dead, and in retaliation he murdered the man who killed her, and he killed his adoptive father, who had hurt her all during their childhood. 

Now his fiancee is dead, and he can’t even get revenge because Bellatrix is in DMLE custody. Who would he have to Charm, to get to her, he wonders? He’s willing to kill again. Eager isn’t the right word, but- well. It’s close. 

But Henry isn’t actually cognizant enough to stand, let alone kill someone. He can’t tell how long it’s been since he learned Syb died. He’s not sure entirely how much he’s drank, what he’s taken. It doesn’t matter. All that matters is feeling numb but also making sure everything hurts, too, because he’s failed again. He couldn’t protect his sister. He couldn’t protect Dirk. He couldn’t protect Syb. Even Nigel is gone, now; fled. What the ever-loving fuck is Henry good for?

                                                              *

He doesn’t remember doing it. He doesn’t remember it happening. He doesn’t remember being found. He just knows, when he wakes up, that it feels wrong. That something in him doesn’t want to be conscious. That something in him is disappointed to wake at all, especially in the sterile white St. Mungo’s chamber.

The Fawleys are there. They look older than he remembers. Not physically- they’ve always been a bit too old for the children they have, but they’ve aged in that beautiful, graceful way that most wizards do. No, it’s in their eyes, in the droop of their mouths. Henry has aged them. These people who only ever wanted to help him and Camilla, who he could never bring himself to trust. He’s done this to them. He doesn’t feel anything about that except a curious sense of dreadful wonder. 

                                                               *

He’s technically an adult, but he’s too tired to fight them, so he lets the Fawleys arrange for him to stay at a special wizarding facility designed for... people like him. Although really, there are very few people like him. Suicidal, deeply depressed, an addict in the purest sense, murderer. 

No-one tells him how long he’ll be here. He doesn’t ask. He’s so tired. A thin white cuff is placed around his right wrist to track and monitor him, although it will be a long time before he’s ever truly allowed to be alone. He looks in the mirror. He’s thin. 

[fawley-en-face]

hanestlythebestlee​:

Han smiled but didn’t respond. Instead he continued to run his fingers softly through Henry’s hair. Thank goodness all his stress hadn’t damaged it. That felt shallow, but even in moments when Henry wasn’t taking care of himself, Han appreciated that his body at least attempted to bounce back and not betray him too terribly. Most of the time anyway.

He listened without interruption as Henry talked about Dirk. He always lit up, despite the short time, despite the distance. It added a certain warmth to his voice. Sybill too, but discussing her was always soaked in sadness, as it was now. Han shifted closer, pulling Henry a little tighter in his arms for comfort and the closest to protection he could provide. But Han couldn’t protect Henry from himself or his own emotions.

What Henry had to say made sense in a lot of ways, but Han’s old feelings on love wanted to pop up. But how where they different than close friendships? Why was Henry wanting to know Dirk any different than Han wanting to know Henry? Because it was easier? Their own friendship had been easy. And then there was the issue of his friendship with someone like Vanja and someone like Luka. Han had slowly come to terms with the fact that while he enjoyed the company of both, it was different. He liked Vanja a lot, but he’d never wondered if he might love him. And what did it mean that he had questioned his feelings for Luka and his own intentions? Did that make the difference?

But Han had opened a painful box, and he couldn’t just suck into his own head. He nuzzled his nose against Henry’s temple and said, “You deserve quiet. You deserve curiosity too. I’m so sorry life seems determined to split them from you.”

This was difficult. It made Henry want to go dunk himself into a bathtub of watermelon vodka and inhale rather than keep talking about it, it was that difficult. Having Han there helped as a steady presence, and if Henry couldn’t talk about this with Han, then who could he?

He sighed back into his friend’s arms and squeezed his eyes closed, taking another moment to simply breathe and register the heat of the body around him, the warmth of Han’s breath where it brushed against his cheek. He was grounded. He was here. Grief wasn’t about to lift him up and float him off on that sea of painful nothingness. 

“Me too,” he sighed. It would be easier to turn this all on Han, than keep dwelling on himself, though. “I think I know why you’re asking, and I don’t... I don’t think I’ve been any help. I think love is different for everyone. Or at least, love in the traditional romantic sense. For all of our vast experience with it,” he said, a wry smile tilting his lips, his tone dry. 

“I think all that matters is knowing that the way you feel about someone is different, in a way that makes you feel good. Or, in a way you want to keep feeling. In a way that makes you want to choose someone, forever.”

[fawley-en-face]

salokirsi​:

“You should try it sometime. I’ve heard they taste better when you do.” Kirsi didn’t have any venom behind the words, being more than guilty herself of the same thing on nights when she wasn’t working. If people wanted to spend their money like that, who was she to stop them?

She couldn’t help guessing it wasn’t his first drink, but that wasn’t any of her business. The man was a stranger after all, even if he was a stranger that looked like her. 

“It pays the bills,” she shrugged, hoping to ward off the inevitable ‘why are you playing in dive bars’ questions. Maybe he’d get it, she hoped. “Beats working in an office, doesn’t it? Some people just have better talents than paperwork, after all.”

Henry made a face. “That sounds fake.” She had a point- as much as he enjoyed gifts, for example, there was a freedom in being able to buy things for himself, an independence- but in this case Henry didn’t really care. He’d gotten drinks all night, conversation, and he hadn’t had to spend a penny. And when he hit his throng with enough Charm they evaporated as easily as they’d appeared. It was a win-win for him. 

“I work in an office; don’t knock it,” Henry said. He was very good at paperwork. When he bothered to try. “But I understand. This seems... funner. Freer. Are we allowed to call it talent, though? You’re only using what you were born with, but it still... it doesn’t feel like cheating, sometimes?”

[fawley-en-face]

Henry wasn’t as far in his cups as he’d like to be, but it was probably better that way, because he was cognizant enough to recognize a flash of brightly-colored hair as Liliana Zabini floated past him. She didn’t look like a woman who’d been recently widowed, but when she’d spoken to Henry about her husband he hadn’t detected anything even approaching love in her tone, so he wasn’t surprised. 

“Join me for a drink?” he said, having detached from the bar and joined her, falling easily into step. The crowds that had already been parting for her began to flow back easier at Henry’s faintly-glowing presence. 

@ladylilianazabini

[fawley-en-face]

narcissa-istic​:

“That’s a town house, right?” Cissa realised a little bit too late that that might be a little creepy, but it was too late to take the words back. “Camilla and I had the same real estate agent, back when I was looking for.. investment property.” For her business, but it wasn’t worth getting into that. “I saw pictures; it looked beautiful.”

She got the feeling he was looking her over, but that was a common enough occurrence nowadays. “I really don’t; I think you can guess why I don’t have a whole lot else on my calendar.”

Henry’s hand on his drink tightened at Narcissa’s statement. He didn’t realize they’d had quite this level of crossover, even if it was only that she shared a realtor with his dead twin. “It is,” he said, in answer to her question and also her observation. His tone was  positively brittle. 

“Yeah...” he trailed off, his discomfort of an entirely different kind now. “Ah- congratulations, I guess?” He couldn’t imagine that marrying Lucius Malfoy, of all people, and being pregnant with his demon spawn, was really something to congratulate a person on, but Narcissa had always seemed like a tried-and-true member of the elite pureblood sphere, so perhaps to her it was.

[fawley-en-face]

Han and Henry - Fae AU

“Hallo, I’m Henry; who are you?”

“Please; I’m smart enough not to give my real name to fey.”

“But I just gave you my real name; it would be rude of you not to return it.”

Han looked with mild disbelief at the inhuman creature hovering several inches off the ground in front of him, radiating glamour with the force of a nuclear bomb. There was no way “Henry” was this fey’s true name. 

“....your floating is making me uncomfortable, Henry. Stop, please.” 

Henry instantly shot to the ground, looking a little surprise and disgruntled. “What did you do that for? You could have just asked me nicely.”

Han stared. This fey really had just hovered up, complimented him, and handed over his real name. He had no idea what was going to happen next, but he felt like it was important. 

“Well, Henry. You can call me Han.”

[fawley-en-face]

James pities you, thats the only reason he ever tried to have a relationship with you

“As if pity would be strong enough to induce anyone to spend time with me against their will. I’m far too difficult for that.”

[fawley-en-face]

hanestlythebestlee​:

Han continued to brush his hand through Henry’s hair to help keep his soothed. His frustration was all completely relevant, but Han hated to see him get worked up. There had just been so much lately, and he really did deserve a break in all that. If he could get a nice roommate and return to a semblance of normal, Han wished it for him in a heartbeat.

“I understand wanting to do it for yourself,” Han said. Really, who was he of all people to argue for giving your parents another chance? His own had done nothing wrong. He’d just outgrown the usefulness of their meager influence. All they knew was that he was successful and fairly happy. And that was fine.

He rolled his eyes as much because he knew Henry was watching for it as anything else. “Luka comes over plenty, but I’m never going to kick you out for alone time with him. He’d be appalled at the idea.” Han hesitated as he tried to figure out how to say this next part without dragging Henry toward dangerous things. “Do you remember last summer when you basically threw yourself in my lap and declared yourself in love? Why were they special? Like… What made you decide that was love and not just another set of relationships?”

“Of course he would; he’s sweet like that,” Henry confirmed. He glanced up curiously at the sudden silence, and Han’s question- well. It was unexpected as a kick in the chest. For a second Henry couldn’t breathe, and his hand tightened on Han’s arm for a long moment before he sucked in a breath and exhaled. 

The words came easily, because Henry had thought about all this before, in the beginning, but they were also like nails scraping up his throat and if it had been anyone other than Han, he probably would have just refused to answer the question. 

“Well, with Dirk...” Henry exhaled sharply. Dirk was alive. He was alright. He wasn’t here and it hurt, but he was alright somewhere, and that’s what mattered. “I just thought he was cute, and I’d rather have been kissing him than talking about finances, or whatever I went to his office for. None of that was unusual; I feel attraction and I act on it. You know that. But with him... I left and I couldn’t stop thinking about him.” Henry’s voice went soft, and impossibly fond. “I never want specific people, so much as just, a person, you know? But I wanted him. His company. When I was with him I felt safe and adored, and when he said he wasn’t just attracted to me because I’m part-veela, I felt like he was actually telling the truth. I wanted- I want to know him. Everything about him. It’s like he unlocked this... endless curiosity. Enough for a lifetime.” 

And then there was Sybill. Sybill who was missing. Who he kept telling himself he’d find, would be found. Whose case was cold enough that she may as well be dead. 

“Sybill was different. She...” there was something heavy in his throat. He suspected why Han was asking him this, and he was happy for his friend, but this hurt. “I just felt it. That I wanted to make her happy. I was delighted that I made her happy. Being with her, it was like all of the worst parts of me got quiet, because I was so caught up in her.”

He subsided back into silence, heart aching. 

[salokirsi]

Kirsi had seen a lot of rather strange reactions to her singing, but falling out of a chair laughing was a new one. Sure, Jolene was probably the most ironic song on her list, but she got the feeling someone that blonde probably related to he version of it a bit more closely than the rest of of the bar. At least enough to ask around after her set and.. yeah.

“So how long’s it been since you bought your own drink?” She said with a grin, sliding what the bartender said he’d been drinking towards him. That was a step at least, buying him one of her own free will rather than someone else being charmed. 

@fawley-en-face​

[fawley-en-face]

Nothing about this night was expected. Henry had wanted to drown his ill mood with alcohol and fawning company, even if said company was completely empty. Instead he’d been surprised by a musician, and not just any musician. A part-veela, her silver hair shimmering in the low light, voice like a siren filling the space as she began- of all songs- Jolene. He couldn’t help it. He’d been so drunk that his laughter took him off the stool and into one of his admirer’s arms. After that it was a bit of a blur, until he came back to himself enough to Charm them all away and focus exclusively on the new drink in his hand and the inhuman woman across from him. 

“Too long, probably,” he said with a lazy grin. Everything was floating and he was intentionally not thinking about all the shadows that would descend on him tomorrow morning when sobriety hit. “What about you? A voice like that... it’s as useful as it is dangerous, right?”

[worstloki]

Send me "&" for my muses reaction to yours tracing one of their scars.

[valentinanottt]

@zephyrbcll @casruncorn @trisxrojas @patrickfinnegans

[fawley-en-face]

@thebaileyshaw  @alex-moody-church  @nicholas-chastain  @softboi-malfoy

[theharellan]

Send my muse lies about people they care for.

[valentinanottt]

@zephyrbcll @casruncorn @trisxrojas @patrickfinnegans

[fawley-en-face]

@alex-moody-church  @nicholas-chastain  @thebaileyshaw  @softboi-malfoy

[askboxmemes]

1) Give me a pairing.

2) Give me an AU setting.

3) I will write you a three-sentence fic.

[valentinanottt]

@zephyrbcll @casruncorn @trisxrojas @patrickfinnegans

[fawley-en-face]

@softboi-malfoy   @thebaileyshaw  @alex-moody-church  @nicholas-chastain