protego,

win because you don't know how to lose.

[andhetakesandhetakesandhetakes]

[protgo]

scorpius  ,

he may be bleeding from the head, but scorpius has enough of his wits about him to recognize that tone - reproachful but caring all in one - and make a quip in response to al’s concern: “oh, i should hate to be so predictable.” grinning, as if he were having tea in the garden instead of bleeding all over the ground (and his coat!). at the sight of al’s glistening red hand, he attempts to use his wand to conjure a handkerchief, only to produce a tea towel. perhaps he is concussed. 

he presses the cloth gingerly to his wound (his wound, he has a head wound) and with his free hand, lifts his wand to add to al’s shield. the ground is spinspinspinning beneath him, though, and he quickly abandons the notion. do keep talking, al said. he could do that much. “and i can’t let auntie bella have all the fun! did you know i once found her wedding album in the manor? she looked awful. silk taffeta gown with this high, absolutely unforgiving neck, long sleeves, a train that stretched halfway to siberia.” 

there’s a tingle shooting up his spine - it’s fear, he realizes, not nerve damage - and he moves to clutch at the back of al’s shirt. it’s grounding. i’m not alone. i’m not alone. i’m not alone. he resists the urge to rest his head on the other man’s shoulder and takes deep breaths. he’s swaying a bit with the effort to stay upright, but scorpius is determined to make it out of this quidditch pitch of his own accord. “this is all very fun and you look very dashing being a hero and all, but do you see a way out?” 

❛   you  never  mentioned.   ❜  al  definitely  would’ve  remembered  it  if  he  had,  for  the  sheer  fact  that  there’s  very  little  scorpius  says  that  ever  manages  to  evade  him.  it’s  an  impressive  skill,  he  thinks,  because  scorpius  talks  more  than  most  people  on  planet  earth.  ❛   what  was  the  worst  part,  would  you  say ?  spare  no  critique,  i’m  a  bit  peeved  off  with  your  aunt  at  the  moment.   ❜  it’s  putting  it  lightly  by  a  landslide,  he  misses  the  days  when  she’d  mostly  faded  into  something  like  a  scary  muggle  fable  than  anything  real  and  present.  it  seems  impossible  that  the  chaos  of  tonight  didn’t  exist  two  hours  ago,  that  his  dad  was  alive  three  months  ago.

changes  -  too  prone  to  happening  in  a  split  second,  but  they  can’t  very  well  always  work  against  him.  even  al,  who  some  days  considers  himself  the  least  lucky  person  on  the  entire  planet.  he  has  to  have  faith  that  the  fervor  behind  his  spell  and  the  fair  attempt  scorpius  had  given  it  makes  for  something  strong  enough.  briefly,  his  attention  is  pulled  to  an  offensive  wave  of  hand.  it’s  blissfully  silent  for  a  moment,  but  al  isn’t  naive  nor  optimistic  enough  to  think  it’ll  last.  ❛   you  think  i  look  dashing ?   ❜  he  asks,  an  obvious  and  admirable  tone  of  amusement  given  everything.  he’s  only  a  bit  genuinely  curious.  albus  potter  is  not  immune  to  the  poor  effect  scorpius  has  on  one’s  common  sense.

getting  to  hogsmeade  in  and  of  itself  is  a  challenge,  never  mind  that  everything  from  there  is  a  recipe  for  illness  on  a  good  day.  there’s  still  blood  on  his  hand  that  isn’t  his.  he  hums,  considering.  ❛   i’m  going  to  heal  this,   ❜  it’s  perhaps  generous  phrasing,  sticky  fingers  flex  once  before  shifting  to  close  over  an  open  wound.  it’s  gross,  the  wandless  magic  won’t  be  the  stitch  job  a  healer  would  do,  but  a  little  less  blood  would  be  splendid.  ❛   how  opposed  are  you  to  a  short,  moderately  smooth  broom  ride ?   ❜

[tvandfilm]

Only Murders in the Building (2021-present) To Protect and Serve (S01E06)

[protgo]

jamie  ,

𝚑𝚘𝚐𝚠𝚊𝚛𝚝𝚜 𝚚𝚞𝚒𝚍𝚍𝚒𝚝𝚌𝚑 𝚙𝚒𝚝𝚌𝚑. 𝟸𝟶:𝟶𝟶 𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚛𝚜. 𝚜𝚎𝚙𝚝𝚎𝚖𝚋𝚎𝚛 𝟷𝟽, 𝟸𝟶𝟸𝟿. 𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚝𝚞𝚜: 𝚘𝚙𝚎𝚗

The last thing he remembered seeing was his father’s face imposed on unfurling banners.

With a sudden jolt Jamie came to, eyes bursting open onto the dark sky overhead. Lungs burned in desperation for air, and he took a swift gulp. His tongue tasted like smoke and dust, burning his sinuses as he began to slowly register what was going on around him. He couldn’t quite remember where he was, until he had managed to turn his head and take a look around. Was this… the Hogwarts pitch? At the realization, it had slowly came back to him. One second ago he was sitting comfortably in the stands, only mildly paying attention to the debate before him. Now he was… Well, he wasn’t sure where he was, his vision obscured by something. A blink and that obstacle became clear — a spiderweb like crack splintering across his glasses. Nothing a quick repairing charm can’t fix. Even he couldn’t mess that up.

“No matter,” he croaked out to himself, suddenly realizing just how winded he was. “Just grab your wand and fix it.” Easier said than done it would seem. As his brain registered his limbs again, Jamie attempted to lift up his right hand only for a jolt of searing pain to catapult up his arm. He hissed miserably before letting his hand fall pathetically back to his side. “Shite,” he moaned, turning his head to try and get a view of the affected area to little success. I really hope that’s not broken. It was the last thing a professional athlete needed, much less a person in his precarious situation.

Slowly, and with mighty effort, Jamie began to sit up, now registering the blurry landscape around him. He was still in the stands, and a throbbing at the back of his head seemed to signify that he’d fallen over and hit his head on the seat. Must have been after the demonstrations… Duh, he thought. The memories began to come back to him in quick spurts. The debate. The student stepping up. The banners bearing Kingsley and his father’s faces. That maniacal voice. Was it some kind of terrorist attack? He wasn’t sure, but he remembered the frenzy that filled the stands as everyone began running for the closest exits. That’s when I must have been knocked over.

Whatever was going on, Jamie needed to get out of there, rather quickly, and so far it felt like most of his other bones were intact. He could make it to safety on foot, of that he was certain. “Get up, Jamie boy, c’mon now,” he grunted, “You need to get to… to the castle, of course!” What place was safer than Hogwarts (or really, in a comfortable proximity to the pitch)? He couldn’t just apparate, and Hogsmeade was a bit far… Surely everyone was regrouping at the school and it was a safe point in all this mayhem. Yes, Jamie Potter was sure of it, and he was determined to make his way there and hopefully find a healer to tend to his wounded wrist. All will be just fine.

A stupidly optimistic thought.

As he slowly began to sit up, he heard a sound coming from the darkness just a few feet away. Oh no! Instantly Jamie fell into a panic, his heart wildly thumping against his chest. Without a thought, he flopped down and tried to roll between the benches in the stands, squeezing his eyes shut as he attempted to slow his breathing. Play dead! Dear lord, look unconscious! A simple thought, but in that harrowing moment it felt his safest bet. His wand hand was hurt, and he was already poor at magic when it was perfectly fine. If danger lurked in the shadows, then he would be a goner. Harry Potter’s eldest son, alone and wounded, the perfect victim. He swallowed and attempted to bury the thought. You can’t see me! I’m dead, you won’t notice me! He kept repeating the thoughts in his head as he willed his body to be incredibly still, hoping and praying that whoever was about to stumble upon him either had good intentions or would believe him not worth injuring further.

he’s  not  a  very  fearful  man,  albus  potter.  gryffindor  didn’t  want  him  for  a  second,  and  the  more  he  grew  into  his  skin  the  more  it  made  sense  past  a  youthful  and  bitter  outlook.  he  never  would’ve  fit  in  surrounded  by  a  common  room  of  red  and  gold,  too  sharp  and  quick  and  calculated  for  an  assortment  that  was  brash  and  too  prone  to  running  wild.  still,  he’s  never  lacked  for  bravery,  a  younger  albus  decided  that  fear  had  never  and  would  never  serve  him.  he  didn’t  so  much  as  let  it  go  but  remove  it  with  a  sort  of  surgical  precision  over  the  years.

here,  as  an  adult,  he’s  mostly  happy  for  it.  there’s  no  part  of  him  that  hesitated  to  go  back  into  the  fray,  no  part  that  considered  leaving  despite  the  difficulty  it  took  to  stay  with  waves  of  people  trying  to  drive  him  back.  it  would  be  easier  to  let  himself  be  carried  away  to  safety  at  this  point,  but  it  isn’t  his  job  and  it  isn’t  his  spirit.  instead,  he  spends  about  as  much  time  shooting  off  spells  as  he  does  just  trying  to  make  his  way  past  frenzied  folks  without  getting  an  elbow  to  the  cheek  every  three  seconds.  

the  crowd  thins  and  thins  in  parts,  al  finds  himself  fighting  it  less  and  having  to  step  over  fallen  forms.  some  he  opts  to  keep  down  with  a  tight  incarcerous,  some  he  recognizes  and  stays  with  only  long  enough  to  help  to  the  nearest  exits.  two  things  can  be  true:  al  is  an  excellent  auror.  al  is  more  concerned  with  being  a  brother  to  two  living  siblings  than  he  is  with  his  job.  his  focus  is  a  bit  hazy,  divided,  he  can’t  help  but  think  of  his  father’s  face  not  an  hour  ago  large  and  towering  over  everything.  his  father,  who  he  loved,  who  he  lost.  it  might  not  make  him  the  best  auror  that  he’s  willing  to  send  others  in  the  vague  direction  of  safety,  but  he’ll  be  damned  if  the  next  banner  is  someone  else  he  loves.

he  seeks.  he’d  be  happy  to  come  across  anyone,  but  if  he  had  to  place  bets  on  who  was  least  likely  to  properly  defend  themselves  in  a  tight  corner  …  well,  it’s  safe  to  say  the  face  he’s  really  keen  to  spot  is  his  older  brother.  out  of  all  people,  jamie  is  probably  the  one  that  needs  a  hand.  it  isn’t  cruel  toned  doubt,  but  doubt  that  needles  at  him  nonetheless.  it’s  not  too  far  off  from  the  way  he’s  worried  about  scorpius,  except  that’s  cushioned  by  his  incredibly  optimistic  belief  in  his  best  friend’s  ability  to  go  exactly  where  he  needs  be  -  away.

he  makes  his  way  through  the  stands  slowly,  quietly,  without  wanting  to  alert  anyone  that  isn’t  on  their  side  before  he  catches  sight  of  them  first.  he’d  hoped  that  when  he  did  find  jamie,  he’d  be  a  bit  worse  for  wear  at  worst.  upright,  probably  chatty,  soothing  someone’s  frayed  nerves  by  sheer  existence.  instead  -  there’s  a  solid  moment  in  which  al  worries  he  might  do  something  incredibly  unhelpful,  like  spill  his  guts  or  collapse.  he’s  never  frozen  in  the  face  of  a  duel,  it’s  stillness  that  threatens  to  knock  him  over.  if  it  took  even  a  second  longer  to  take  in  the  finer  details  of  the  scene,  there  may  have  been  two  potters  out.

jamie  is  admirably  still,  but  not  dead-still.  pale,  but  only  slightly  more  than  usual.  al’s  knees  are  a  loud  thump  right  beside  his  brother,  he  is  far  from  gentle  when  he  grabs  onto  jamie’s  shoulder  just  to  jostle  him.  it’s  a  bit  like  when  they  were  younger  and  al  was  more  avid  to  occopy  all  his  time,  bright  and  early  and  not  allowing  one  more  moment  of  peace.  ❛   if  you  don’t  start  moving  right  now —   ❜

[protgo]

scorpius  ,

location: hogwarts quidditch pitch date: sept. 17, 2029, 8:13pm who: scorpius & al

scorpius malfoy was never too proud to turn tail from danger. he was the only son and heir of his family - and liked being alive, mind you - and he was usually wearing something elaborate, dashing, and uncomfortable to fight in. he left the heroics to the heroic people, was content to let others fight battles with their wands and fists while he chose the written word. this worked for him. this was the system. 

but then al potter had to go and become an auror and muck it all up. oh, he threw a fantastic fit when his best friend informed him of his intended career, complete with foot stomping and voice-raising and the silent treatment. because now, he had to care. now, he had to scan the daily prophet and pray to gods he didn’t believe in that he wouldn’t find al’s name in the death announcements. now he had to hold his breath every time he opened a letter from lily, for fear of terrible, terrible news. and now, right now, he was pushing past the terrified masses, into the danger, to go and find him, clasp his shoulder, make sure he was breathing and alive and whole. 

he’d just reached an area in the ravenclaw box that was lit up with dueling spells when he spotted the characteristic brown hair and glasses. relief flooded his insides, and he shouted: “AL! AL POTTER! ALBU–”

thwack! 

scorpius was thrust forward by some force - a misplaced elbow or a knockback jinx, he couldn’t tell - that hit the back of his head. his vision flickered in and out of focus as he fell to his knees, whole body growing warm. something wet trickled under the starched collar of his shirt. 

“al potter,” he spoke again, this time much softer. “i do believe i am concussed.” 

al  would  never  complain  about  the  extent  of  those  he  cares  about  with  seriousness.  he’s  fortunate,  to  have  had  so  many  people  in  his  life.  fortunate  that  at  hogwarts  half  the  bloody  school  shared  in  his  good  news,  whenever  he  might’ve  had  it.  the  problem  lies  in  the  way  they  must  share  the  bad,  too.  the  name  potter  may  be  rare  enough,  but  his  family  extends  far  past  it,  and  there’s  a  terribly  large  chance  the  majority  of  them  would  choose  to  run  headfirst  into  danger  rather  than  away  from  it.  al’s  in  no  place  to  judge,  given  the  very  nature  of  his  career,  but  it’s  not  exactly  the  most  comforting  bit  of  information.

if  there  is  one  person  he  trusts  to  do  exactly  what  al  would  want  him  to,  one  thing  that  brings  him  a  shred  of  relief,  it’s  the  knowledge  that  his  best  friend  is  nothing  if  not  wholly  unwilling  to  ruin  an  outfit  he  previously  referred  to  as  an  experience.  he’s  distinctly  confident  scorpius  has  found  his  way  to  safety,  let  the  flow  of  the  crowd  drag  him  somewhere  he  can’t  be  hurt.  it  is,  of  course,  drained  in  an  instant  -  even  otherwise  engaged,  al  would  recognize  his  voice  anywhere.  

scorpius  crumpling  is  a  sight  that  won’t  leave  his  head  for  quite  some  time.  awful,  and  motivating;  the  next  flash  of  light  from  his  wand  sends  two  pesky  opponents  knocking  into  each  other  with  a  crack.  it’s  satisfying,  al  won’t  pretend  otherwise.  most  importantly,  it  gives  him  the  time  to  rush  right  to  scorpius’  side.  

❛   you  were  supposed  to  leave.   ❜  he  tsks,  gentle  and  disapproving  in  the  same  breath.  his  free  hand  flutters  around  scorpius,  undecided  on  where  he  wants  to  touch:  first  at  his  elbow,  then  fingers  carding  through  blonde  hair,  to  a  grasp  at  the  nape  of  his  neck  that  wets  his  palm  in  what  he  suspects  must  be  deep  red  without  looking.  he  can’t  do  anything  without  a  hint  of  protection,  and  so  that  becomes  the  priority.  before  he  begins  a  shield  incantation,  he  glances  back.  ❛   do  keep  talking,  i’ll  have  a  fit  if  you  faint.   ❜

[fypllgifs]

Funny PLL moments {9/∞}

[protgo]

{ cis man, he/him } ❝ my heart that’s more human than i, more exact than life. ❞ huh, who’s CHARLIE ROWE? no, you’re mistaken, that’s actually ALBUS POTTER. he is a 23 year old HALF-BLOOD wizard who is an AUROR. he is a SLYTHERIN alum and the child of HARRY POTTER and GINNY WEASLEY. he is known for being ALOOF, RELENTLESS, SARCASTIC, DEFENSIVE, and DISTRUSTING but also AMBITIOUS, LOYAL, CARING, FORGIVING, and COMPASSIONATE, so that must be why he always reminds me of the song BRAVADO BY LORDE and A COLLECTION OF MUGS WITH ONLY THE LAST BIT OF COFFEE REMAINING; THE SHARP DIFFERENCE BETWEEN PURITY AND GOODNESS; RELIABLE RESCUE FROM SOMEONE THAT SWORE THEY WOULDN’T HESITATE TO LEAVE YOU BEHIND; A WATCHFUL EYE LINGERING AT THE SIDELINES; A SURPRISINGLY WARM HUG. i hear he is aligned with the ORDER OF THE PHOENIX, so be sure to keep an eye on him.

BASICS

name:  albus s. potter

nickname: goes by al almost exclusively

age: twenty-three

sexual / romantic orientation: homosexual homoromantic

former house: slytherin

affiliation: auror department, potter-weasley family, order of the phoenix

occupation: auror

family: lily luna potter (sister, younger), james sirius potter (brother, older), ginny weasley (mother), harry potter (father) + a truly incredible amount of cousins, uncles, etc.

PHYSICAL

hair: brown

eyes: hazel

height: 5′10

notable characteristics: he doesn’t quite possess usual weasley levels of freckles but there are enough to be noticed, poor vision therefore always wearing glasses

PERSONALITY

al is very much a healthy mix of both his parents! he isn’t boisterous or particularly loud, but he is incredibly determined and relentless in the pursuit of what he’s decided he wants. growing up with the last name he did came with a lot, both the good and the bad, and al adjusted to it as best he could. he found it hard to really let people in growing up as he always doubted whether it was about him or about either of his parents, really, and wasn’t interested in being a keyhole view into the lives of either of them. he’s polite, for the most part, but more on the quiet and private side of things to most.

being close to him, on the other hand, is a different and funny thing. he’s tetchy, and finnicky, and you get an honest view of him if nothing else. the version most people get may be easier to deal with than the truth, but there’s also less heart. al’s very loving, intensely reliable, steady, and solid. he’s fiercely opinionated and sharp, a whopping total of maybe three people have ever been able to change his mind once he’s made a decision. his humor may be a bit on the dryer side, but it’s definitely there.

he is ... protective. of his family, of himself, of his heart. he really doesn’t let a lot of people truly in and it’s always been good that he has a huge family, so there’s a big package deal of people there, but outside of that he’s always been more of a few close friends than large group type of person. he’s also very trustworthy! no one has ever managed to pry a secret out of him nor will they ever! he really wears his feelings on his face, in terms of being surprisingly expressive as long as he’s not on the job.

HEADCANONS / BIO

his patronus is a wolf, his wand is s 12½ inches, made of holly with dragon heartstring core, and unbending flexibility

al is a sweet boy!! however, he has issues forming close relationships at times (platonic or romantic) because of a lot of worry surrounding his name and the weight being a potter holds in the wizarding world and his inability to ever really know someone’s intentions. he has a marshmallow heart and it’s easier to protect it than to heal it.

magic did not come easy to him!! he comes from two very powerful bloodlines, but it was just … harder for him to control and pick up. he’s a very skilled wizard in later adolescence and adulthood only because he would’ve dropped off the face of the planet before being the potter kid that couldn’t do magic right. as such, he practiced all the time when he was younger, and practice makes perfect.

al also has some issues accepting help. not in small mundane things, but on larger scales he’s very testy about anyone suggesting he can’t do something or that he’s weak, in any way. he feels like he has spent … a lot of time proving himself! too much to not be taken seriously!

the pressure al feels in his life is not …. at all from his parents. the most pressure he feels from them is to be a good brother, but that’s not in a bad way !! it’s in a you’re all family and family takes care of each other way! it’s the rest of the world’s expectations that he feels a lot, and that’s not anyone’s fault!

al is gay!! he’s not new in town!! he holds a lot of fear that people only like him because of the family he comes from!! he’s sort of known for a while, but when he really formally came to terms with it he was fourteen and it was difficult because keeping quiet about it to his family, specifically, was a bad feeling. the thought of making an announcement also made him want to puke. ultimately, he tells his brother and sister first. he tells his parents next. everyone else just had to find out on their own. 

up until al was about fifteen he felt very .. directionless, by way of career and his life after hogwarts. he didn’t know if he was really built for anything, or what would make him happy, but he wanted to do something that felt meaningful and challenging and worthy of respect, which is how he settled on auror. i do kind of believe most people that knew him thought it was a fleeting idea he’d move on from, because he really is ... disposition wise, a lot softer than i think the typical ideal-auror is. al is very stubborn, though. he’s always felt like he had something to prove, and he was never willing to fail. he made up his mind and now however many years later, he is in fact quite good at what he does!

al does not like quidditch. in terms of skill he’s really fine at it he’s just never been a fan, he didn’t have a particularly high amount of school spirit for it when he was younger either. he will participant in family games because he’s a good sport, but otherwise he doesn’t play. 

i think al understands the well intention behind it, but he really doesn’t like when anyone he doesn’t know well mentions his dad to him. condolences, apologies, pity looks, they all really grind his gears. he doesn’t like to talk about his grief, either, but he’s big on family. al’s never felt unloved in his home, he’s never had any unreasonable issue with his family, he misses harry in a strong way he doesn’t know how to word, so he just ... doesn’t.

[draumas]

CHARLIE ROWE 2020, The Forgotten C. dir. Molly Manning Walker