𝐡. 𝐩𝐨𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫 @fireboltz - Tumblr Blog

#FIREBOLTZ. MUTUALS ONLY HARRY POTTER ROLEPLAY BLOG. established 04.2021. independent + selective + private. unlovingly ripped from the hands of rowling by [ GRAY, 21, THEY/THEM ]. donate to the uk trans charity mermaids here. do not interact if you excuse or justify anything that rowling has said.

TRIGGERING THEMES CAN BE PRESENT … including, but not limited to, war, child abuse and neglect, and canon - typical violence. please note that harry’s main verse is post - war and post - hogwarts [ selective with my hogwarts verse as i believe the story to generally be tired ]. harry is usually written as between eighteen and twenty. this blog is selective with minors – but there won’t be any smut here.

* RULES CAN BE FOUND HERE. * VERSES CAN BE FOUND HERE.

harry is largely headcanon based and i’m interested in developing him more through in - depth plots than random starters. CURRENT STATUS: FOLLOWING NEW BLOGS.

putting harry on an official long term hiatus <3

rulebent:

────── all attempts at humour seem to fall flat in this miniscule space that they’d been forced into ⁽ ᵗʰᵉʸ ʷᵉʳᵉ ⁿᵒᵗʰⁱⁿᵍ ᵐᵒʳᵉ ᵗʰᵃⁿ ᶜʰⁱˡᵈʳᵉⁿ ᵈᵉˢᵖᵉʳᵃᵗᵉˡʸ ʷᵃⁿᵈᵉʳⁱⁿᵍ ⁱⁿ ʰᵒᵖᵉˢ ᵒᶠ ᶠⁱⁿᵈⁱⁿᵍ ᵗʰᵉ ᵏᵉʸˢ ᵗᵒ ˢᵃˡᵛᵃᵗⁱᵒⁿ ⁻⁻⁻ ᵗʰᵉ ˢᵖᵉˡˡ ᵖʳᵒᵗᵉᶜᵗˢ ᵗʰᵉᵐ ʷⁱᵗʰⁱⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ʷᵃˡˡˢ ᵒᶠ ᵗʰᵉ ᵗᵉⁿᵗ , ᵇᵘᵗ ʰᵉʳᵐⁱᵒⁿᵉ ˢᵗⁱˡˡ ˢʷᵉᵃʳˢ ᵗʰᵃᵗ ˢʰᵉ ᶜᵃⁿ ʰᵉᵃʳ ᵗʰᵉ ᵈⁱˢᵗᵃⁿᵗ ᵇᵃᵗᵗˡᵉ ᶜʳʸ ᵒᶠ ᵗʰᵉ ʷⁱᶻᵃʳᵈˢ ᵗʰᵃᵗ ʰᵃᵈ ᵇᵉᵉⁿ ʳᵉᶜʳᵘⁱᵗᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ˢᵉᵃʳᶜʰ ᶠᵒʳ ᵗʰᵉᵐ ⁾ , but hermione allows a dry huff of laughter to escape her lips anyways , eyes close as figure continues to sway to the imaginary beat . ❝ you’re always seeming to get me into trouble , huh potter ? ❞ her own attempt at finding hilarity in their shitty situation , but the joke fails to land as fingers tighten their grip in the soft cotton of his sweatshirt . head tucks further into the crook of his neck , and hermione allows herself to be surrounded in the scent that was distinctly harry . ❝ i’d still be here . even if you weren’t around . ❞ their battle was far bigger than harry , than the scar that he bore and the legacy that his name implied ; she was always destined to become a victim to the war , likely would’ve lost her innocence far earlier without him ⁽ ᵃᵗ ˡᵉᵃˢᵗ ˢʰᵉ ⁿᵒʷ ʰᵃᵈ ˢᵒᵐᵉᵒⁿᵉ ᵗᵒ ˢʰᵃʳᵉ ᵗʰᵃᵗ ᵇᵘʳᵈᵉⁿ ʷⁱᵗʰ, ˢᵒᵐᵉᵒⁿᵉ ᵗʰᵃᵗ ˢʰᵉ ᶜᵒᵘˡᵈ ᵃˡʷᵃʸˢ ᶜᵒᵘⁿᵗ ᵒⁿ ⁾ .

❝ our time at hogwarts was the calm before the storm . but the storm was always going to come eventually . being your friend just allowed me to be more prepared when it finally hit . ❞ she’d been lucky enough to consider harry her best friend , to watch him mature and grow into the man that she’d loved today ⁽ ᵃ ᶜᵒⁿᶜᵉᵖᵗ ᵗʰᵃᵗ ˢʰᵉ ʷᵃˢ ᶠᵃʳ ᵗᵒᵒ ᵗᵉʳʳⁱᶠⁱᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ᵘᵗᵗᵉʳ ᵃˡᵒᵘᵈ , ᵉᵛᵉⁿ ⁿᵒʷ , ʷʰᵉⁿ ᵗʰᵉʸ ʷᵉʳᵉ ᵃˡˡ ᵗʰᵃᵗ ˢʰᵉ ʰᵃᵈ ˡᵉᶠᵗ ⁾ . head lifts momentarily from his shoulder , and hermione takes it as an opportunity to study his features up close , gaze taking in the chocolate of his irises . ❝ you won’t lose me . ❞ it’s another promise that she knows she can’t really keep , but hermione barely attempts to stop the words from coming out , can’t imagine not saying the words that she knows he needs to hear . ❝ no matter what , you’ll never lose me . ❞

he offers her a small smile, though he can’t wipe the tragedy from it... he doesn’t know if the smile will ever change from that position: from now on, it’s likely that his face would be plagued with sadness. there would be no way to separate himself from the harp - pluck of agony, the resounding note of pity sticking in his throat. do people ever really heal from things like this? he thinks of remus with his clothes that never fit right, his eyes that always seemed to be looking out into the distance, at something that no one else could see. he was a mess of memories, ragged and undergrown, living half in the past: he loves remus, but he doesn’t want that to happen to him. sirius, too, wore the same haunted look... his ran deeper, though. while remus’ pain was bodily, sirius’ seemed to be in his blood. he huddles into himself at the thought -- it still hurts to think of sirius. his smile slips, but only for a moment [ he has to spare a moment to center himself again, to remember that living in the past would kill them both ]. ‘ i absolutely don’t get anyone into trouble. i just stand by and prophecies seem to find me... and you’re the one mad enough to stick around. if i could have run away from this, i would have. ’ he isn’t sure if that’s true, though. even before the prophecy had struck between his ribs, he had a habit for pursuing what he thought was right with a noble ambition. ‘ i know you would be. you’ve always been a nuisance. ’ his grin becomes a little more genuine as he nudges her with his elbow, a promise that he’s joking.

her promise hits him right in the chest... his mouth feels like its clouded with the words that are too hard to say. you can only withstand so much tragedy in one lifetime and harry has had his lion’s share: he knows already that it isn’t over, though. there is still more pain to be had for them. his hand stretches out, taking her own between his fingers. they’re small and warm -- he tries not to think about how nice they feel. how nicely they fit together. ‘ i don’t think i could stand it. ’ voice catches in his throat, so he stops speaking to gather himself. he runs his fingers over her knuckles, bringing them to his mouth to press a dry kiss there. the movement embarrasses him after -- his flush is a light sprinkling across his cheeks.

#rulebent #verse one，known as... what becomes of the omen?

bestie i shouldn't even have to tell you how absolutely in love with your portrayal i am !!! holy shit your harry is literally the only reason i still write hermione, idk what i'd do without you <3

you and i...we're kissing

#THIS IS FROM ONE OF YOUR OLD BLOGS BABE BUT STILL. I MUST POST IT

you honestly don’t want to be paired with harry potter on a project

#forgetful. not very hard working #will disappear for months one nd

Hello, the link to your rules in your pinned post isn't working. I would love to follow you but I want to make sure that doing so won't break any of your rules.

should now be fixed! honestly, my rules are not extensive.

#i dont like a big rules page i just get by on vibes alone

proditeur:

“i wouldn’t be surprised.” though… by the time sirius really grew into himself, the brothers didn’t know one another any longer. regulus isn’t really sure where his brother stood, mark-wise. but if he didn’t have the best, then it was certainly for a lack of trying. “i think he knew what he was doing a great deal more often than he was ever given credit for.” regulus, for one, admonished him relentlessly for his recklessness and thoughtlessness; and the tragedy is that only now does he realize that his brother was hardly the fool that regulus thought of him. a horrible thing to learn after a person has past.

you could… teach me.

suddenly there’s a bubble in regulus’ chest, threatening to burst. he regards harry with quiet eyes that wonder whether he’s asking out of pity, asking because he thinks he should, or asking because it’s what he truly wants. and regulus himself cannot deny his desire to impart his wisdom on someone else—because surely he hasn’t lived this long, fought this hard, and learned this much not to have it—but is it right?

would he just be a stand-in, a second-choice for a better man?

he’s been as much for his brother before.

“… is that really what you want, harry?” he asks in a whisper, like a man afraid of knowing the answer, “… because if it is, if it’s what you want, and not simply what you think you must do, then i would be more than honoured to teach you what i know.”

not for the first time, harry wishes sirius was back so much that it makes his heart feel too loose in his chest... he still writes letters to sirius. he doesn’t send them, obviously, but it’s nice to pretend for an hour or two that sirius was still with him. just a letter away. harry even kept the messages coded, like he had to do before, to make sure that no one managed to track him down: there was a stack of them at the bottom of his suitcase, carefully wrapped up in one of his t - shirts. he doesn’t think it’s the unhealthiest thing in the world -- after all, it was just like keeping journal, with a few extra steps.

he feels regulus’ eyes burning into him... and he has to turn his own face a little to avoid the gaze [ he feels embarrassed now the question sits on the air between them -- regulus would turn him down, awkwardly at best and with a laugh at worst, and they would have to settle back into being strangers who know each other only by a death ]. but it isn’t a denial that he’s faced with. his eyes lift, mouth parted a little as he considers. it’s an interesting question... and not one that he’s bothered to think about before asking. ‘ it’s what i really want, ’ he decides after a breath. his shoulders roll a little bit as he shrugs off the weight of his own words. ‘ why would i think it’s something i have to do? ’

#proditeur #verse one，known as... what becomes of the omen?

rulebent:

────── any tension in the room dissipates as soon as harry begins to laugh , and even hermione feels a crack of a smile tug at the corners of her lips ⁽ ᵈᵉˢᵖⁱᵗᵉ ʰᵉʳ ᶜᵒⁿᶠᵉˢˢⁱᵒⁿ ᵇᵉⁱⁿᵍ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜᵃᵘˢᵉ , ʰᵉʳᵐⁱᵒⁿᵉ ᶜᵒᵘˡᵈ ⁿᵉᵛᵉʳ ʳᵉˢⁱˢᵗ ᵗʰᵃᵗ ˡᵃᵘᵍʰ ᵒᶠ ʰⁱˢ ⁾ as eyes roll in their sockets . ❝ your hair has always been unruly , sure . but it’s so fitting for you , don’t you think ? ❞ there’s fondness in tone as gaze fixates on the digits that run through chocolate strands ; she’d always viewed his hair ⁽ ᵖᵉʳʰᵃᵖˢ ᵉᵛᵉⁿ ʰᵉʳ ᵒʷⁿ ᵃᵗ ᵗⁱᵐᵉˢ ⁾ as an extension of personality ────── wild and untameable , independent and defiant . the gentle patter against the window pulls her focus away momentarily , perhaps her brain’s own way of deflecting from the sheer proximity to unspoken desires ⁽ ᵇᵘᵗ ᵉᵛᵉⁿ ⁿᵒʷ , ᵃˢ ᵉʸᵉˢ ᶠⁱˣᵃᵗᵉ ᵒⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ʷᵃᵗᵉʳ ᵈʳᵒᵖˡᵉᵗˢ ᵗʳⁱᶜᵏˡⁱⁿᵍ ᵈᵒʷⁿ ᵍˡᵃˢˢ , ˢʰᵉ ᶜᵃⁿ’ᵗ ʰᵉˡᵖ ᵇᵘᵗ ʷᵒⁿᵈᵉʳ ʰᵒʷ ˢᵒᶠᵗ ʰᵃʳʳʸ’ˢ ʰᵃⁱʳ ʷᵒᵘˡᵈ ᵇᵉ ᵗᵒ ᵗʰᵉ ᵗᵒᵘᶜʰ ⁾ , her own fingers brush locs out of her eyes before figure leans backwards in leather chair . ❝ i wonder if we understand the ugliness more because of the way we were raised , because of the hatred we’d been exposed to in the muggle world . ❞ the grimness of humanity had bared its teeth to both of them at a young age , innocence had been stripped far too early ; maybe it’s why they had been able to survive through it all , maybe it’s why they had always been the last ones standing .

❝ role model might not be the right word . ❞ declaration is barely a whisper as pink colours her cheeks , as gaze remains fixated on the clouds looming above her office . ❝ but i always looked up to you . i’ve always admired you , harry . ❞ burnt umber hues find their way back to his visage , any hilarity now gone from her features ; harry had always been part of her foundation ⁽ ᵉᵛᵉⁿ ⁱⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ᵉᵃʳˡʸ ʸᵉᵃʳˢ , ᵇᵉᶠᵒʳᵉ ˢʰᵉ ᵗʳᵘˡʸ ᵘⁿᵈᵉʳˢᵗᵒᵒᵈ ʷʰᵃᵗ ʰᵉ’ᵈ ᵐᵉᵃⁿᵗ ᵗᵒ ʰᵉʳ ⁾ , had always been the person that she could turn to when she’d needed him most . ❝ i was lucky to find you too . i don’t think i really knew how lucky i had been at hogwarts until it was all taken away from us . ❞ fingers twitch under her desk , hands clasp and unclasp as she attempts not to trace ᴛʜᴇ ꜱᴄᴀʀ on her forearm ⁽ ᵃ ᵖᵉʳᵐᵃⁿᵉⁿᵗ ʳᵉᵐⁱⁿᵈᵉʳ ᵒᶠ ᵗʰᵉ ʰᵃᵗʳᵉᵈ ʰᵒᵘˢᵉᵈ ᵇᵉⁿᵉᵃᵗʰ ᵗʰᵉ ʷᵒⁿᵈᵉʳˢ ᵒᶠ ᵗʰᵉ ʷⁱᶻᵃʳᵈⁱⁿᵍ ʷᵒʳˡᵈ , ᵃⁿ ᵉᵛᵉʳˡᵃˢᵗⁱⁿᵍ ˢʸᵐᵇᵒˡ ᵒᶠ ᵃˡˡ ᵗʰᵃᵗ ʰᵉʳᵐⁱᵒⁿᵉ ʷᵃˢ ᵗʳʸⁱⁿᵍ ᵗᵒ ᵉʳᵃᵈⁱᶜᵃᵗᵉ ᵃˢ ᵐⁱⁿⁱˢᵗᵉʳ ⁾ . ❝ how do we know [ . . . ] when we’re finally at peace ? ❞

he feels soothed when she breaks into a grin alongside him... at least they could still feel their happiness. he had always been worried that would be the first thing to go. that one day he would wake up and it would already be too late: happiness would have slipped through his open palms, desperate to escape the glum little routine he had settled into. every time he manages to laugh and smile, it surprises him. and it’s good to know that hermione still has laughter in her, too. it would be a shame to lose that noise -- to deprive themselves of that lilting happiness, that sweet sweep of her mouth, as she falls into excitement. he could listen to her laugh for hours and still want more of it. there is a hunger that comes to listening to her: he wants more and more of it, but he knows he must stop up that greed before it overwhelms him. ron, he reminds himself. he wouldn’t do anything to hurt ron. ‘ it’s fitting? ’ there’s another laugh that shakes through him. ‘ are you trying to say i’m unruly? that isn’t true! ’ but the more he thinks about it, it definitely is. he’s never been good at following the rules. ‘ i’ll have you know that i’ve become much more mild - mannered in my old age. some might even call me tame now. ’ of course, those people aren’t ones that know him very well, but hermione didn’t really need to know that tidbit. her fingers lift to brush her own hair from her face and he studies those fingers -- older now, but still smooth and sweet. he was struck dumb with an urge to feel them in his own hair: to be touched without needing to worry, or fret, or second guess himself. it was always easier with hermione. he doesn’t ask, though. they’re at her place of work and it’s been a while since they really talked and... there’s a million reasons, really. ‘ it’s ugly all over, isn’t it? well. at least we’ve made this world a little brighter. i hope it’s different now. for the children being raised here. i hope they feel -- i hope they know that they’re safe. ’

harry’s childhood had never allowed him to feel safe... so he jus9t hopes that they can give that to the next generation. to let them understand that they had people fighting in their corner. ‘ i can’t believe you admired me. i should have been worshiping the ground you walked on. i was an idiot. ’ but it was nice to know that she had looked up to him. he didn’t think he did anything particularly admirable, though -- he spent most of his childhood just trying to survive... and maybe trying to convince a girl or two to kiss him before he graduated. ‘ i don’t know. maybe when we finally start to feel happy. are you happy yet? ’

#rulebent #verse one，known as... what becomes of the omen?

YOUR PORTRAYAL OF HARRY IS SO AMAZING AJSJSJJAJDJSDJDH every single time you reply to a thread i get so giddy you write harry so lovingly you can really feel it 😭😭💖💖

ok this is so old and definitely from a meme but. i am clearing out my inbox and wanted 2 save this hehe. love u

#saved for later

rulebent:

────── they’re closer now than ever before , so close that hermione swears she can feel the steady thrum of his heartbeat against her breast ⁽ ᶠᵉᵉˡ ᵗʰᵉ ᵐᵒⁱˢᵗᵘʳᵉ ᵒᶠ ʰⁱˢ ᵇʳᵉᵃᵗʰ ᵃᵍᵃⁱⁿˢᵗ ʰᵉʳ ᶜʰᵉᵉᵏ , ˢᵐᵉˡˡ ᵗʰᵉ ˢᵒᵃᵖ ˡⁱⁿᵍᵉʳⁱⁿᵍ ᵒⁿ ʰⁱˢ ˢᵏⁱⁿ ⁾ ; she can’t help but lean into his warmth , welcome the hand that presses against the small of her back as bodies begin to sway to an imaginary tune . the silence lingers around them as her head finds its way back to his shoulder , eyes close momentarily as she basks in the moment , and hermione fears that even breathing will disrupt the calmness settling in her chest . the medallion reminds her of the impending doom that awaits them outside of the tent , of the war that threatens their livelihoods , of the prophecy that awaits harry ────── still , she’s happy to have this moment of stillness amongst the chaos , glad to have a moment where he was just all hers . ❝ the sentiment is returned , harry . i wouldn’t want anyone else [ . . . ] meeting you was one of the best things to happen to me . ❞ it came in second only to this moment , dancing alone with him in the middle of the woods ; there’s so much honesty behind their words that it threatens to tear her apart , that she feels too embarrassed to look him in the eyes .

❝ i’m not going leaving . i’m with you ‘til the very end . ❞ it’s a dangerous promise to make , but hermione means every bit of it . ❝ and if we [ . . . ] if i don’t make it [ . . . ] ❞ maybe it’s the horcrux now that forces her to think about the possibility of the end , reminds her of the death that follows them in the shadows ; it’s only then that she realises she no longer fears death , no longer fears what might await them outside of their own sanctuary ⁽ ᵗʰᵉʳᵉ ʷᵃˢ ⁿᵒᵗʰⁱⁿᵍ ᵐᵒʳᵉ ʳᵒᵐᵃⁿᵗⁱᶜ ᵗʰᵃⁿ ᵈʸⁱⁿᵍ ʷⁱᵗʰ ᵃ ᶠʳⁱᵉⁿᵈ ⁾ . ❝ just know i don’t regret a single thing . ❞

he has never quite held hermione like this before... and he finds that he likes it. she’s warm and alive in his arms, a reminder that not everything he loves has died [ and he does love hermione, entirely and utterly, though he won’t be able to admit that to himself for quite some time -- it is amazing how hindsight can alter these sweet memories ]. he can’t imagine he smells very good, considering that baths have been few and far between on this journey, but hermione doesn’t shy away from his touch. in fact, she seems to enjoy it. the thought makes him a little dizzy, so he doesn’t linger on it too long. his cheek comes to rest against the side of her hair, letting their bodies fall a little closer together, as he continues to move to a song only they can hear. at least he hasn’t lost the thin veneer that serves as a guiding hand between them. her words are gentle enough to make his chest feel like it is being pried open, revealing a heart that is beating too quickly. ‘ meeting me is the reason you’re in this whole mess, ’ he says, trying to summon a laugh and failing miserably. his heart felt like it was going to sink to his feet. ‘ i’m sorry. i didn’t mean to say that. ’

but before he could begin to wallow, she was already reassuring him... hermione wasn’t always the best with emotions, but there was a kindness to her that would never go amiss. whenever she made a mistake, she tried to rectify it. harry admired that about her. merlin, he admired most things about her. ‘ you’re going to make it. i couldn’t lose you. ’ it’s the truth: he is reminded of his mother and father dying together. the thought comes so quickly that he almost chokes on it. instead of lingering on it, he holds her closer and presses his face into her. ‘ can we stay like this for a little while longer? ’

#rulebent #verse one，known as... what becomes of the omen?#we needed something shorter

@solravki said: 💬

‘ you were always... the quiet one. ‘

#solravki #this meme is so old but #i wanted to do one liners. so here we are

parabathai:

jack nearly winced; a part of him knew this was a cheat’s way in, & never tended to last long when borrowed belief could only make him knowable to others for a sort amount of time. afterwards, he was just as likely to eventually slip from remembrance only to become twice as hard to believe in, when ears that had already heard of him would not startle or alight at the mention of his name. if he could not get somebody new to believe in him, then he would make sure harry potter never forgot. ⍘ bit of both, maybe. hey, maybe it’s better she can’t — it’s the nerdy ones that are the most fun to prank. too practical to think a fairytale’s after them. ⍘ hunching low and tapping his fingers along his staff, jack considered the smatter of his pale hair that struck around in the wind like wilted straw. ⍘ he does kinda’ look like a weasel. ⍘ jack’s eyes tracked the wizard around the field, but all it took was harry’s command of go for him to puff out of existence in a shower of snowflakes. he reappeared through glimpses of the east wind, hovering behind draco malfoy. summoning a snowball touched with magic to his finger tips, jack beamed with a devious grin as he hurled it right to the back of malfoy’s neck. naturally the boy reared in surprise, but as soon as his fury had taken shape it had dissipated from his face.

instead he cackled, and the snowball jack manifested in his hand launched at another passing slytherin. and then another, and then one more, & then it was everyone in a snow ball fight that had landed the malfoy boy off his stick and into the sloshing mud. with a snap, the magic wore off on him alone, as he scrambled up right in confusion & was surrounded in a circle of laughing teammates. jack reappeared at harry’s side, his impish delight apparent. the amusement seemed to double as several boys dressed in garbs of yellow & red stepped out onto the field as well, expecting their slot only to find the slytherin’s in disarray: the rest of the wizards had begun tumbling off their sticks as the invisible wind shook them loose like winter leaves. ⍘ right on time — the gryffindor’s are here. don’t think they’ll live this one down, man. ⍘

jack unleashes a sort of chaos that can only be described as glorious... soon enough, the slytherins are confused about who is even throwing the snowballs, which leads to them turning on their own [ not surprising for a house that cared for nothing but its own ruthlessness... either way, it was kind of fun to use that against them -- harry can’t help the way laughter sparks in his chest, as alive as the flutter of a sparrow’s wings ]. his eyes keep losing track of jack: that’s how fast the other moves. but when he catches glimpses, he’s nimble as the air itself as he weaves between the slytherins, barely more than a flicker of light snow causing gleeful mischief. how many of them could even see him? they’re missing out on quite the sight. what was an even better sight, however, was draco getting absolutely pummeled with snowballs. he was covered, his skin gleaming with ice, his shoulders shaking as he tried to dodge what his teammates threw at him. harry didn’t care much for pointless violence --- but draco rather deserved everything that he got, especially considering how vile he was to hermione and ron [ he was a bloody nuisance with harry, too, but the knife of self - sacrifice meant that he didn’t care much for personal vengeance ].

when the gryffindors find their way to the court, he throws a hand around jack and pulls him close... he has to make sure that the people who can see him don’t question the random new student. a friend of harry’s had always been a friend of the team, so they seemed to take to it easily -- besides, they were too caught up in heckling the slytherins to really throw a glance their way. ‘ you were brilliant! ’ harry laughed, ducking his head so only jack could hear him. ‘ do you want me to give you a little tour of hogwarts? ’ he says, inclining his head towards the doors behind them, which lead into the changing rooms. from there, they had all of hogwarts at their disposal.

#parabathai #verse one，known as... what becomes of the omen?#oh the trouble they could get into

rulebent:

[ ··SHE IGNORES THE WAY HER STOMACH TWISTS AND DROPS , ] the way that breathing hitches as they grow endlessly closer ; she’d always been in the palm of his hand , had always been at his mercy , but it had always been hidden beneath a pressing need ( whether it be classes , or the looming threat of the war that would inevitably rip their childhoods away from them , the endless battles that would take away everything that they’d ever cared about ) . now , with no guarantees of tomorrow , the truth was beginning to unfold before their very eyes , just barely hidden in the shadows of their shared tent . THE MOUNTAIN DEW CLINGS TO THE OUTSKIRTS OF THEIR TENT , and hermione finds herself wondering just how much time has passed since ron had journeyed on his lonesome , whether he’d returned to an empty home , or if he’d miraculously been able to find his family amongst the chaos ; the bitterness swells in her throat , POISON WHISPERED INTO EAR BY THE MEDALLION IMPRINTED UPON HER CHEST , angry thoughts stifled only by the gentle caress of her cheek , by the warmth of harry’s hand and the dew of his breath . at least she was no longer stuck on the metaphorical porch of her house , waiting for the return of a life that had never truly been hers ( a childhood where the magic still held its charm , a life where she’d found true acceptance in the world of the mystical arts ) , waiting for the return the people who had never truly cared for her in the first place . “ you have too much faith in me , harry . ”

there were quiet beats in the silence between the two of them , and hermione can’t tell if it’s the sound of her own heartbeat or harry’s ; he’d always been the one that she couldn’t do without , SHE WOULD’VE FALLEN APART LONG AGO IF NOT FOR HIS ENDLESS SUPPORT . she can hear the trees swaying outside of the tent now in the heavy air that surrounded them , the distant shouts of wizards who had been tasked with tracking them down ———— they were lucky to be alive , lucky that she had remembered the spell meant to keep their location concealed from all who thought to look . “ if anyone deserved a different life , IT WOULD BE YOU . you should’ve … you should have more than just me and this shit tent and a life of constantly living in fear . you deserved happiness ; not the falsified happiness that your fame offered , BUT TRUE HAPPINESS . ” fingers wrap around his own , hold them against her cheek for just a moment longer ( it grounds her , drowns out the harsh whispers of a tattered soul , balances the endless weight growing on her chest the longer the medallion remained wrapped around her neck ) before hand drops and head tilts to the side . “ not much happiness in this tent , i’m afraid . ” poker face falters as the lie escapes her lips ; ALL SHE’D NEEDED was in this tent , this quiet moment between the two of them , so delicate that she was afraid breathing would disrupt it all .

if he knew that hermione considered herself at his mercy, he would laugh himself sick at the irony... to him, she has always been so fully - formed, so entirely her own person, that nothing could touch her [ even when harry had twisted himself into a thousand different names -- son of prophecy, son of lily and james, friend of sirius black, enemy of the death eaters, harry potter and everything that had ever haunted him -- he had found hermione to be singular and solid ]. he had leaned on her so much over the years that she had become something of an extra limb... he doesn’t know what he’d do without her. he hopes that he’ll never have to find out. he is at her mercy: he would sacrifice anything if she asked for it, if she told him that it would make her happy. hatred has never come easily to harry, but he is pressed against the medallion, against hermione. ron had a family to return to. molly and arthur and their caring arms -- not to mention all the siblings that would embrace and care for him without a moment of hesitation. they had lost percy to the ministry, but there was still an entire host of kids who were worrying over ron. hermione had erased her family’s memories to keep them safe and harry had lost almost everyone he had ever considered family... they were alone in the same way now. another bond between them, another thread that twisted around their hearts and joined them together.

eyebrows draw together at her next declaration... ‘ too much faith in hermione granger? there’s no such thing. ’ his palms flatten against her back as they dance, the clothes there warm from touching her skin, warm from the summer they should be enjoying. ‘ i don’t think you how understand how... how... ’ he doesn’t know if he should go on, but then he thinks that they might die any day now. death was a promise that had loomed over his whole life, watching him grow from a boy who could barely stand to be looked upon to a teenager who drew eyes wherever he went. such is the nature of a prophecy -- it seems his own was inked over his skin in his blood. they could die tomorrow, if the wrong person managed to see through hermione’s crafty spell work. though he doesn’t think he can offer the full honesty of his heart, he thinks he can sacrifice enough pride to compliment her. ‘ you’re brilliant. absolutely, completely brilliant. smart beyond compare, but also... kind when you have to be and ruthless when the time calls for it. i’m proud to call you my friend. honoured, i think, is the word i’m looking for. there’s no one else that can do the things you can do, hermione. and if there was, i’d still want it to be you. ’

her hand touches over his lightly, and he is astonished by how soft her hand is, even with the wand - callouses of her fingers... he lets out a breath as her hand drops away, as if learning for the first time how to breathe again. ‘ i have happiness. i’m here with you, that’s -- that’s happiness, hermione. just don’t leave me. ’ he doesn’t know if he can ask for that, but still... still, he does.

#rulebent #verse one，known as... what becomes of the omen?#oh god they make me sick

rulebent:

[ SHE IMMEDIATELY REGRETS OFFERING THE PSEUDO - COMPLIMENT , ] refuses to allow the embarrassment to wash over features as he teases her , a small frown slowly replacing the grin that had been spread upon delicate visage . people had always treated harry as if he were their martyr , PLACING A CHILD ON A BROKEN PEDESTAL IN HOPES THAT HE WOULD BE THEIR SALVATION ; as if he were meant for nothing more than the fruits of war , as if he were worth nothing more than his ability to survive . harry had always deserved more than what was expected of him , had always deserved a peaceful childhood surrounded by those that cared for him ( truly cared for him , not the scar on his head , not the legacy that voldemort had left behind ) . fingers twist in her lap as head shakes , gaze remains fixated on harry before heavy sigh escapes her lips . “ it was never about the scar , you know that . although i must admit , i had been a fan of the hair . ” the hint of a grin returns to cherry-stained lips , shoulders shrug before figure leans backwards in the leather desk chair . “ there was a time where maybe i put you on a pedestal too , BUT NOT BECAUSE OF THE NAME YOU BORE OR THE MARK ON YOUR FOREHEAD . you were just … different from everyone else at hogwarts when we first met . you didn’t care about what others expected of you , despite the scar . you were friends with me despite it all , you went to gryffindor to distance yourself from voldemort’s legacy . you were so brave and fiercely loyal , and representative of so many things that i had hoped to become . ” HERMIONE WAS STUCK IN CONFESSIONAL , bearing her sins to the man that everyone had donned sainthood upon , thoughts and feelings being spoken aloud for the first time since they’d met all those years ago , things that she should’ve told him long ago .

“ you were like … my first role model . before lockhart , before viktor , BEFORE ANYONE . as dumb as it may sound . ” she knew that role model was the wrong word , but even her courage had its limits ; she avoids his gaze for a moment , ignores his statements about her not being boy - crazy ( harry didn’t know how wrong he was , how much she had idolized him for years , only for her feelings to not be reciprocated ———— it could never be reciprocated , so she’d never even tried ) . soft smile finds its way to her face once more , the same one that is reserved solely for them . “ i fit in better with the professors than with the students . i was the perfect student , sure , but i always had trouble making friends like you and ron had . ”

“ i wouldn’t let you touch my paperwork with a ten - foot - pole , potter . i don’t need you signing off on something stupid under my name … ” another joke in an attempt to lighten the tone , TO IGNORE THE WEIGHT OF HER WORDS , the implications behind everything that she’s saying . “ you’re worth so much more than being yet another soldier in the wizarding world’s endless wars . i can ask them to stop reaching out , if you’d like . YOU DESERVE PEACE , just like the rest of us . if anything , you deserve it more . ”

the raw scrape of her honesty is enough for him to want to cut his own heart out... they’ve always been honest with each other, but maybe they haven’t always been truthful [ the difference is this: they wouldn’t ever lie, but they might be prone to keeping things from each other -- just little snippets of information, not things that would permanently alter the world they lived in, but personal secrets ache like holes in their chest ]. he feels a little ashamed for keeping anything from her when her voice takes on that quality... he’d slip a knife into his gut and spill it all if he thought that it would make her happy. but he knew that violence had never appeased hermione: she saw no need for it -- and with the wizarding world still in recovery, harry would have to say he agreed. there was enough blood wetting their lands. let it all be laid to rest, let nothing else be spilled, let a new reign be ushered in by hermione’s firm hand.

‘ you liked my hair? ’ harry half - gasped out and began laughing deeply. by anyone’s politest of estimates, his hair had been a veritable rat’s nest for most of his youth. even now, it was untameable -- mostly because he’d given up trying to manage something that didn’t want to be managed. he lifts a hand to his hair now, feeling the curls stubbornly resist any attempts at being flattened. ‘ you are perhaps the only person in the world that likes my hair. i knew you were mad. i mean, absolutely stark raving, always, but that? that really takes the cake, ‘mione. ’ he lifts the back of his hand to wipe at his budding tears, knocking his glasses upwards at the gesture. she’s already delving into something mushy -- she stumbles over her words sometimes, but she always manages to strike home with harry. maybe they’ve just always known where to touch each other -- what matters to the both of them. ‘ i think it helped that we were both raised as muggles. we understood the newness of the wizarding world, the... the beauty of it, the rarity of it. but the ugliness of it, too. ’ death meant something different in the wizarding world. he wiped away the rest of his tears, hiccuping out his last laugh. ‘ sorry for laughing, ‘mione, but the hair? really? ’

there’s an itchy blush on his cheeks now... he doesn’t know how to deal with all her love for him. he doesn’t know how to deal with all his love for her. ‘ your first... role model? ’ a tentative question, because he isn’t stupid: he knows how she had felt about lockhart and viktor. he wants to ask if she still keeps in contact with viktor, but decides against it -- he doesn’t want to know if the answer will still sting. ‘ you made friends with me and ron, didn’t you? that’s when the real trouble started. we didn’t know how lucky we were that you wanted to hang out with us. smart and pretty and kind... i mean, we were very stupid boys. ’ a smile that is almost shy. ‘ no one deserves it more. have you found it yet? peace? ’

#rulebent #god theyre so tender #i wish they could kiss like normal people instead of pining away

finalcircle:

⍘ gryffindor … ⍘ jack murmurs under his breath, a whiff of longing and wistful contentment at the prospect of such a life that could have once stood before him. if it were four hundred years back perhaps, and he was not a sliver of the moon but a boy just like harry. with a hum he floats along, careful to let his cloak conceal the fact that he had never touched the ground. a grin marked his face at the sight of hagrid flailing about by the snow banks, as if he were attempting to swat away a flurry of enchanted pixies. ⍘ d’you think hermoine would believe in me? or see me? ⍘ clever people tended not to delve too deep into superstition, but harry wasn’t like the lot of them — he believed enough in jack to see him, and knew enough sense to never believe the ill spirited rumours discouraging students to engage with the winter sprites.

ducking through waves of departing students, jack distracted heads left and right until he had safely ventured into the hall and across with harry beside him. peaking from over the boy’s shoulder, he couldn’t help his own impish grin. one for jack, zero for hagrid. ⍘ alright, name him — which one of these jerks is the malfoy kid? ⍘ jack pulled away with wicked excitement, and retrieved his staff from thin air before gesturing the end towards the stadium before them. it seemed a team had taken to playing dressed in garbs of black and green. jack shrugged out of the cloak, so anyone looking over did not see a floating uniform bobbing after harry potter. ⍘ he won’t see it coming. ⍘

despite the circumstances, harry can’t help his smile at jack’s wistful tone... he knows what it’s like to want something so desperately that your voice shapes itself around it, that your entire body seems to grow towards it [ if he had known of hogwarts before coming here, he was sure his voice would have rung with the same longing ]. besides, it drove forth the point that harry has always felt vaguely aware of: gryffindor was the best house. ‘ i’m not sure. if i tell her about you, would that help? or does it have to be a pure sort of thing? ’ he doesn’t know how most magical creatures worked and jack might be the least known of all. probably because telling people his secrets would ruin all his fun. ‘ i would hope she could see you. ’ he doesn’t want to ask why he can see jack, what exists in him that makes him appear: he doesn’t want to know what the answer will be. sometimes, ignorance really was the only form of bliss.

harry grinned over his shoulder at the boy - cherub huddled there when it seemed like they were getting away with it all... he held out his arm a little for the other to hide behind, especially with the staff now pulled free [ very few things looked strange to wizards, really, but he wanted to make sure that no one noticed him with a strange looking imp ]. ‘ okay, can you see that one? ’ he points vaguely in malfoy’s direction, before dropping his finger away. ‘ the one with the weasel face and the blonde hair? go get him. ’

#finalcircle #verse one，known as... what becomes of the omen?

proditeur:

“of course he was!” regulus sounds shocked, as though by insult; and he sits just a little higher in his chair like a serpent proud and poised. “there isn’t a person in my family who wasn’t clever. and the cleverest part of it is that we hid it very well.” well… some better than others. regulus hides his cleverness in his silence; you don’t know which cards he holds because he’ll never allow you to see them. his mother hid hers behind a rueful stare and taut lips. sirius hid his in his theatrics; always bold, always brash, and you’d have thought he was all noise and no brains, but… “he didn’t care to let anyone know it, but i’d bet he had just about the highest marks in his year. but he didn’t care about things like that. it’s not about marks and studiousness, it was about the fun of it.” the fun of magic, the fun of discovery, and the fun of being everything his parents didn’t want him to be.

regulus, who has become rather excitable, steals a quieting breath and settles back down into his seat. it’s been years since he’s been allowed to speak of sirius like this—without, your brother? the imprisoned one? that murderer? following his every word. he wonders what other things have been said about sirius; what things remus has said about him. or mcgonagall, or even albus…

regulus thinks they can’t possibly know him like the real brother did.

“if he’d have… if he’d have had the chance to teach you, i think you’d be much better off for it,” he adds quietly, turning his eyes down towards the floor, “and i don’t think anything would’ve made him happier.”

harry doesn’t like thinking too much about his own legacy... it sticks between his ribs like an uncomfortable thorn, an omen of ill - will and iller fates [ when does the sickness end? when does his blood stop feeling like a curse? he is the child of death and war: he carries that with him ]. there are easier smiles and easier laughter, moments of reverie within a life that has gifted him brutality, but he wonders if it evens out. if these drops of happiness somehow makes up for everything else: the potters will always be a family that comes with apologies first. averted eyes and whispers of i’m so sorry for your loss. harry doesn’t hate his life, nor his name, nor his family [ in fact, he loves all it with such steady patience and earnest anticipation ]. but sometimes melancholy creeps right into his bones, a toxic substance that he can’t quite bleed out. ‘ the highest marks in his year? ’ his shock is a happy creature that spreads across his face. ‘ he always seemed to know what he was doing. even when what he was doing was crazy. ’ happiness twists into fondness, though sometimes it’s hard to tell them apart: both feel like a knife in his gut.

‘ and hermione’s always going on about how he complimented her for being smart... which would make sense, if he was smart himself. intelligent people can pick up on that stuff, can’t they? ’ his lips press together gently at regulus’ next words. his happiness floats away from him, the vague excitement that was bubbling between them turning to tempered fames. ‘ you could... teach me. ’ there’s something of a sob in his voice as he turns his head away, trying not to think too long on sirius now.

#proditeur #cant htink about this thread for too long or ill die #verse one，known as... what becomes of the omen?

finalcircle:

⍘ happy to oblige kiddo, ⍘ jack retorted easily, floating over his shoulder. it wasn’t big news for spirits of his kind — in fact, jack was among the youngest around them. but there was an amusement to being the eldest for once, but try as he might to exert any authority, he fell to his more mischievous and impish impulses instead. jack wasn’t meant to lead so as much to liberate, to send a crowd of kids into fits of giggles until they were running out of their potion class with their strange hats thrown off. that was precisely what he’d meant to do here — let harry lead, and start the fireworks from behind. ⍘ woah, you’re letting me … ⍘

with a wicked grin, the sprite dived under the cloak and was rendered a little more ordinary. his staff, which seemed odd for a would-be wizard, burst into snowflakes and promptly disappeared. ⍘ do i look the part? a student i mean. i’ve always wanted to go. ⍘ for the first time in a long time, he’d looked down and not seen his blue sleeves. standing near harry made jack a little more real than just the wind to those around them, and it was because harry believed in him. he smiled wistfully. ⍘ where do you think i’d be sorted? i’ve always liked your house. what’s it like in there? ⍘ despite his amazement and the temporary glee of donning a wizard’s cloak, jack ducked his head low and thrust out his hands, sending a flurry of snow to distract passing students and hagrid from looking their way. ⍘ almost there. ⍘

harry winced at being called kiddo, but decided that it would be a worse argument to say anything about it... sometimes, it was best to just let jack do what he wanted. besides, he was in high spirits from the promise of a prank [ he couldn’t wait to recount this to ron: the other would no doubt propose something even more spectacular to top it ]. harry was nervous that the cloak couldn’t dim what was undeniably jack. he was filled with so much reckless energy, impish laughter and easy smiles defining his very being. but he adjusted well enough into the part of a student: even his staff vanished into falling snowflakes, which did a lot job of making him look earthly. not quite perfect, but there was no reason to believe that he wasn’t part - veela. there were a lot of strange, and unexplained, students at hogwarts, after all.

‘ you’re look as close as we’re going to get you. i think it suits you. ’ besides, it wasn’t as if a cloak could be worn badly. harry liked the ease of it -- the thing that was so completely and utterly hogwarts. he had felt like a muggle most of his childhood, burdened with the pinch of normalcy: the cloak felt a lot like freedom. ‘ it’s based a lot on what you want. i think that’s why hermione didn’t get into ravenclaw, even if she’s the smartest person i’ve ever met. ’ his smile was ruthlessly found as he thought of his best friend. ‘ which means you’d probably get gryffindor -- did you just do that to hagrid? oh, merlin, keep moving. ’

#finalcircle #verse one，known as... what becomes of the omen?#stop this thread is still so much fun

Trending Blogs

Recently Viewed Blogs

𝐡. 𝐩𝐨𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫