morana is the slavic goddess associated with winter’s death, rebirth and dreams. In ancient slavic rites, the death of the goddess morana at the end of winter becomes the rebirth of spring of the goddess kostroma, lada or vesna representing the coming of spring.
Hello 😊 can i ask a Harry fic with soulmate Au? Like they share the same injuries so she have the same scar as him but not a lot of people know it? And if isn't much could she be an Hufflepuff?
Summary: Soulmate AU where whatever injury your soulmate has appears on your skin as well. You have a lightning bolt shaped scar on your forehead.
Pairing: Harry Potter x Hufflepuff!reader
Word Count: 1,654
Requested by @fluffymadamina: Hello 😊 can i ask a Harry fic with soulmate Au? Like they share the same injuries so she have the same scar as him but not a lot of people know it? And if isn't much could she be an Hufflepuff
Main Masterlist
There was a reason your hair was cut into bangs. And there was a reason you refuse to let those bangs grow out.
Your friends had told you numerous times that it would be nice to change your hairstyle. You'd had bangs since the moment you came to Hogwarts. Now it was your fifth year and they hadn't changed one bit.
"I think it would be nice to have a little change, don't you?" Your friend, Hannah Abbott, said that morning as you two got ready in your dormitory. You just hummed, thoughts on your timetable for the day and not even focused on what Hannah was saying. You waited for her to finish getting ready, watching her pin her yellow Prefect badge to her robes before gesturing at you. You both left for the Great Hall together.
You would have had no problem in following Hannah's suggestion about letting your bangs grow out and pushing them off your forehead if the bangs weren't crucial in hiding something that might change the way everyone looked at you. They were crucial to hiding a scar shaped curiously like a lightning bolt, smack in the middle of your forehead, resembling an infamous scar that was present on the forehead of The Boy Who Lived.
You knew who Harry Potter was. You'd first read about him in Important Magical Events of the Twentieth Century. When you and your Muggle parents had found out that you were to attend Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, you had bought every single book you could about the Wizarding World, wanting to find out as much as you could about the people you belonged with. That's when you had read about Harry Potter, had realized with a shock that he was your soulmate. You had a famous soulmate. Unsure of how correct your assumption was despite the scar on your forehead, you had resorted to hiding it under a curtain of hair until you knew for sure.
Of course, you knew as soon as you saw him.
His scar was identical to yours, hidden poorly under a fringe of black hair. Large, round glasses framed brilliant green eyes, robes lined with maroon. You had watched him get sorted into Gryffindor that very first day. And since then, it seemed like all you ever did was watch him.
You watched him become the youngest Seeker in history, watched him win his first match of Quidditch. You watched him make great friends and quickly become popular throughout the first three years. You also watched terrible things unfold. You watched him get forced into the Triwizard Tournament, watched him nearly die in the first two tasks. Watched him appear in the Quidditch field in hysterics after the third task, clutching a dead body.
You didn't know why you never told him. You guessed you were just afraid.
Harry Potter had gone through more than most adult Wizards in the country, he had seen and suffered more than anyone you knew or had heard of. And he still had so much on his plate, considering how hard the Ministry was trying to cover up the fact that You-Know-Who was back. You didn't know how important it was to spring the whole soulmate thing on him right now. Truth be told, you hadn't found one suitable moment in the four years you'd been here.
You had Herbology today, which was your favorite class to attend for one reason only: you had Herbology with the Gryffindors. Your heart raced just at the prospect of seeing Harry again. You hadn't seen him all summer, of course, and with how the previous summer had ended, you were anxious to see how he was.
If only you weren't such a wimp. If only you could just go and tell him how important he was to you. No wonder you weren't in Gryffindor. You didn't have an ounce of bravery in you.
Your heart nearly jumped into your throat at the sight of him, conversing with Ernie MacMillan just outside the greenhouse doors. Ernie seemed to be standing tall, a look of strange determination on his face. When you drew near enough, you realized he was reassuring Harry that he believed him.
"Lots of us do." He was saying, eye catching movement in his peripheral vision and head turning to look at you. "Like Y/N, for example." He gestured to you, making Harry turn to look at who he was pointing at.
Your cheeks burned so hot you thought you would freeze on the spot, yet your jelly like legs still managed to walk until you had stopped next to Ernie. You had never, not once in your four years at Hogwarts, talked to Harry before. You had accepted admiring him from afar. You doubted that he knew who you were.
"Don't you, Y/N?" Ernie repeated, yet your tongue wouldn't move. You were staring at Harry wide-eyed, willing yourself to say something, anything, maybe even just nod your head, but his eyes were making you weak and his hair, eternally messed up but perfect in your eyes, make your breath halt in your chest.
You regretted your silence though, when Harry's red headed friend, Ron Weasley, stepped forward, glared at you and then nudged Harry to move into the greenhouse.
"Let's go Harry." He was saying. "It doesn't matter what they believe. C'mon."
You realized almost immediately that he had taken your silence the wrong way. The implication left you horror struck. Ernie turned to you with a bewildered look.
"What was that all about?" He asked. "You're always going off about how you believe him in the common room. Why didn't you say anything?"
Your heart was hammering. Fear sprung in your chest. Oh Merlin, what did Harry think of you now?
"I-" You were interrupted by Professor Sprout, who ushered the rest of you inside and shut the door behind you.
You couldn't concentrate for one minute in class, even though today's lesson was about Bowtruckles. You had read about the tiny little creatures, and had been looking forward to seeing them, but all you felt was the guilt and fear of not saying anything to Harry. You had been so starstruck at the very sight of him that you'd made him believe you thought he was a liar too.
You couldn't bear it.
Maybe that's why you followed him after Herbology ended and everyone made their way to the Great Hall for lunch hour. Your heart was hammering, but your resolution to straighten things out overtook your crazy feelings.
"Um, Harry!" You called.
Him and his two friends turned around at the call, making your face burn hot all over again. Ron was still glaring at you. Hermione just looked curious.
"May I have a word?" Your voice was trembling slightly. "In private?" You did your best to avoid Ron's heated gaze.
Harry seemed taken aback but nodded nonetheless. He said something quietly to his friends, causing them to leave for the castle. He turned back to you expectantly.
"Um," your mind was already starting to blank, but you look resolutely away from his face and plowed on. "I wanted to apologize about before. I didn't- I didn't want to be silent. Of course I believe you. I just-"
"It's okay." He cut you off. There was a certain rigidity in his voice, as if he didn't believe you. "You don't have to backtrack on what you think. I don't blame you for not believing. It's not like everyone else does."
"N-no!" You yelped, looking at him. "That's not it at all! I believe you, I do-"
"Don't worry about it." He waved a hand in dismissal, taking a few steps backward. "I'll uh, I'll see you around."
But tears were filling your eyes, and you lunged forward, grabbing his arm before he could leave. His head snapped back to look at you, mouth opening and frown forming, but whatever sharp words he was going to say died out when you pushed your bangs back with your free hand.
His eyes widened, face paling at the sight of the scar on your forehead. Exactly identical to his own. It took him a few seconds to comprehend what it meant and why you had it, but by the time his eyes met yours again, they held a new light. You gingerly let go of his arm, letting your hair fall back in place.
"I was caught off guard." You mumbled. "I didn't know- this was the first time we were meeting. And- and you made me... nervous."
Your face was so hot and your body so numb you could barely feel a thing. Harry still hadn't moved, hadn't said a word. You stared down at your feet.
"You never told me." He finally whispered.
You nodded, feeling slightly ashamed. "There was…. it never felt like the right time."
You looked up to see him still looking at you, but his gaze was softer, his posture not as rigid.
"Would you like to go to the next Hogsmeade trip with me?" He blurted out, looking surprised by himself.
You stared at him in shock, heart beating so erratically you wondered how it hadn't stopped yet.
"I'd love that." You shakily answered, feeling that sweet, giddy feeling spread in your chest.
Harry nodded, a ghost of a smile twitching at his lips before gesturing jerkily at you.
"We should- uh, lunch."
You could see the pink dusting his cheeks, making a smile break over your own face as you fell in step with him, walking back to the Great Hall.
Summary: The reader shows up at Godric’s Hollow after Voldemort’s attack on the Potters.
Pairing: Sirius Black x Potter!Reader
Word Count: 1,793
A/N: So idek what this is, more of a general reimagining of the Potters’ death scene with a reader insert. I hope yall like it!
Main Masterlist
Word had spread around quick. Quicker even more so than usual, since it was such big news. The fact that the War was over and You-Know-Who was no more was an extremely shocking turn of events that no one had expected. And at the height of his power? When everyone was so sure that no one could beat him? That this was the end of Muggles, Muggle borns and Muggle lovers? Turns out, little Harry Potter had done what even the most powerful of wizards were incapable of doing; taken down the Dark Lord himself.
The whole of the Wizarding World rejoiced, congregations of them partying and feasting all over the country. The only worry anyone had was maybe being too obvious in their celebrations. But nothing could get them down. They were too happy, too joyful about the end of a period of immense terror.
You didn’t feel an ounce of the happiness they did.
That’s so sad and so cool! 😭👍 Harry being raised by his dad’s sister, now that would be nice! 😭👍 Especially if she’s a nice person. And Sirius is definitely a bonus!
Summary: The reader shows up at Godric's Hollow after Voldemort's attack on the Potters.
Pairing: Sirius Black x Potter!Reader
Word Count: 1,793
A/N: So idek what this is, more of a general reimagining of the Potters’ death scene with a reader insert. I hope yall like it!
Main Masterlist
Word had spread around quick. Quicker even more so than usual, since it was such big news. The fact that the War was over and You-Know-Who was no more was an extremely shocking turn of events that no one had expected. And at the height of his power? When everyone was so sure that no one could beat him? That this was the end of Muggles, Muggle borns and Muggle lovers? Turns out, little Harry Potter had done what even the most powerful of wizards were incapable of doing; taken down the Dark Lord himself.
The whole of the Wizarding World rejoiced, congregations of them partying and feasting all over the country. The only worry anyone had was maybe being too obvious in their celebrations. But nothing could get them down. They were too happy, too joyful about the end of a period of immense terror.
You didn't feel an ounce of the happiness they did.
The minute the news of the attack on Godric's Hollow had entered your ears, you knew exactly what had happened. Of course there was no certain way of knowing, it was mere speculation on your part, but deep down, you knew. You knew. Even as you Apparated into town, as you rushed down the empty streets, only minutes after the attack, as you moved down a quieter lane to a house you knew all too well, your insides collapsed. It wasn't even a house anymore. The roof was completely blown off. The windows were smoking. There were thuds as the walls around the place fell.
You didn't care, you dashed straight inside. Your breaths were coming hard and fast, less because of the running and more because of the sense of impending doom. You could physically feel your heart as it pounded against your chest, it's rapid pace almost hurting you. Tears were already swarming in your eyes, and just past the front door, your dread was confirmed.
James Potter lay on the foot of the staircase, motionless, eyes wide and face hard set. As the house around him flamed, his stare was pointed straight to where you were standing, yet he looked right through you.
Your scream was loud and piercing, your legs nearly collapsing under you as you coiled in on yourself. Your hands clawed at your cheeks at the sight of your brother, more than dead, wandless, alone.
You stumbled to where he lay, his name tearing from your throat. Your cry remained unanswered. You were conflicted, wanting to touch him but unable to. Wanting to feel him but not being able to bear the feel of his cold skin. His glasses, askew on his face and one of the lenses broken, seemed to be the only thing even slightly resembling what it was when James was alive.
You had to refrain yourself, this wasn't the end. Your nephew, sweet, young Harry, was somewhere in this house, either alive or dead. From the stories you'd heard, he was alive, but you couldn't be sure. The trek up the cracking stairs was harder than expected. Your body didn't seem to want to cooperate. Your mind was swarming, half grieving the death of your brother, but the other half of your brain scrambling to concentrate, to find Harry, to find Lily.
And you did find Lily, exactly the same way you'd found James. Your screams were quieter, but just as pained, having known this was exactly what you'd find. But you were quickly distracted, for your screams were followed by another sound in the room. The sound of a baby's crying.
Your screams had broken Harry from his quiet state of apparent shock, since the boy had now began crying. His forehead was bleeding, his cheeks tear stained as you wobbled closer to him. Your hands immediately clutched him, pulling him into your chest. There was nothing usable in the house anymore, all the blankets burned or extremely dusty, so you just walked straight out, struggling to not look down as you walked over the dead bodies of your best friend and brother. Tears were again blurring your vision, your head spinning so fast you thought you would be sick. Your mind was reeling, numb, and the sounds of Harry's much quieter whimpering had dimmed out.
The fresh, cold November air outside the house hit you like a solid wall as you stepped out, your trembling hands tugging at your cloak until Harry was covered by it too, shielded from the chill. You heard the purring and sputtering of an all too familiar motorbike engine, knowing exactly who had stopped in front of the house. Your legs no longer operated under you. You collapsed to the snowy ground, your nephew pressed tight to your chest as you finally cried.
Sirius' voice was far away, asking you what had happened, panicked and shaking, reminding you of just minutes earlier, the dread that had drenched you completely. Your fiancé was feeling the same thing, except your current state more or less confirmed all his worst fears.
It took all of ten minutes for him to stumble out of the house again, crying audibly, hands tugging at his hair. He kept mumbling to himself, voice cracking, struggling to move across the snow-covered lawn. As he stopped a few feet from you, he finally spoke loud enough to be audible.
"You know who did this." His voice was breathy and trembling. "We both know."
You knew, of course. You and Sirius were the only two people besides James who knew that Peter Pettigrew was the real secret keeper. He was the only one who could have betrayed James and Lily's location. You rocked back and forth where you sat, feeling the cold wetness seep into the backs of your legs, yet unable to stand. Sirius looked like he would collapse any moment too, face stained with soot from the house and his own tears.
"I'll kill him." His voice was dangerously low, shaking in his fury. "I'll skin that rat alive." And then he was walking to the motorbike.
It broke you out of your stupor, and you struggled to get back on your feet, Harry's tiny body still held tight in your arms.
"N-no." You choked out, stumbling forward to grab the back of Sirius' jacket. "You c-can't. Sirius, we need to get Harry out of h-here."
"Get off." He climbed over the motorcycle, face contorted with anger and hands gripping the handlebars tight as the engine roared to life. Harry had started crying again.
"Sirius!" A scream tore out of you, loud and unexpected enough to make him freeze, and for Harry's crying to increase in both volume and intensity. "Screw Pettigrew! Look at us!"
You shook Harry, as if to prove a point. Sirius' eyes fell on the little tear stained face, the bleeding forehead, Harry's little hiccups. His eyes, so startlingly green, so much like his mother's, but his face, his hair, even at such a young age exactly like his father's. He was so much like James. A time where this fact elicited laughs and proud strutting from your brother, only made you cry harder and shudder now that your brother was dead. Dead and motionless on the floor of his house. Died trying to protect the two people he swore to love and care for his whole life.
"You go after him now, you won't survive." You heaved out, trying to fight through your own hiccups. Your mind could barely string the words together, the struggle of it was making you dizzy. Your legs screamed at you to collapse again, but you held yourself up. Harry was starting to slip from your grip. You heaved him up again. "No one knows he's the secret keeper. They all think it's you."
It seemed to dawn on him then, the gravity of the situation. You were right. As of now, he was the prime suspect in his best friends' murders. He couldn't act on impulse. He couldn't be angry.
"W-we need to keep our heads." You continued, trying your hardest to shun out every thought besides your shivering nephew. Mourning would have to wait. "Okay? S-Sirius, look at me." A shaky hand grabbed his face, pulling it up to look straight at you. His eyes were swimming with tears, his anger just lying under it, trying to do what he wanted to do the most.
"He has to pay-"
"And he will." Your voice cracked again. You rocked Harry a little, who had began screaming at this point. "He will. But we're his godparents." You indicated the boy you were holding. "He's priority. Please, Sirius. For J-James..."
The mere sound of his name was enough to make Sirius' face scrunch up. In the dim streetlight, he looked like a broken and lost little boy as he nodded and sniffled, scooting forward on the bike. You shakily climbed behind him, trying to shush the baby in your arms as much as you could. You didn't look back at the house, even though fresh tears sprouted from your eyes at the thought of leaving your brother and best friend in there, but Harry was getting so cold that his little fingers had paled, only a few minutes away from turning blue. He needed to be indoors again, and quick.
The loud, booming sound of an "Oi!" stopped you and Sirius as a large man hobbled to where you were, eyes falling on Rubeus Hagrid.
"P-Professor Dumbledore's orders!" He managed to get out, shocked eyes passing over the destroyed house before landing on the lump in your arms. "He wants Harry. Professor's orders."
On instinct, your arms tightened around your nephew, Sirius' back stiffened in front of you.
"No." You flat out replied. "H-he's my nephew. No, Hagrid. I'm not letting you take him from me. No!" You screamed as Hagrid drew nearer, shocking him to a stop.
"Dumbledore wants my nephew, he'll have to get through me." You gritted. Deep inside, a small instinct told you that you were being very disrespectful towards the man who was your biggest ally. Never in your wildest dreams would you speak against Albus Dumbledore. But your mind had gone numb. The thought of anyone taking James' son from you, the only thing that was left of your brother, made panic seat itself so deep in you, you nearly launched off the bike to attack Hagrid.
"Go tell him what I said." You gritted out instead. "He knows where to find me."
Sirius seemed to have taken your words to be final, as the bike roared again before taking off into the sky, one of your arms clutching his waist as the other held Harry James Potter tightly to your trembling chest…
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