Discover Top Posts Tagged with #fhogself

Wedding Bells || Selfie

The past week had been nothing less than a whirlwind of insanity. To say otherwise would be a lie and then some. Fiona wasn’t getting any sleep, the most she’d gotten was four hours from a potion she’d taken the night before, and even that had been restless. Not to mention, her husband to be was getting more and more impatient and testy with every passing minute, and Fiona was throwing herself at every problem before it got a chance to really become a thing. That meant spending more time in Ethelbert’s bed in the last week than she’d spent in the whole rest of the time they’d known each other combined. It was a dirty job, but if it meant keeping his temper at bay while she stressed about the final details, she’d do it.

#fhogself #para:closed #para:wedding bells #para:grace #para:denahi #para:shang

Silly Games || Self

After that visit over spring break, Mer hadn’t heard anything from her father for weeks. It wasn’t like she expected him to immediately jump into being some kind of model father or reaching out to her or anything like that. But she had still expected some kind of contact. After all, he was the one who had disappeared due to his bad decisions. He was the one who was reaching out now. But the continued silence had her wondering and questioning all over again. Did he actually want to be around her after all? Or was it only when it was convenient to him?

Stupid. Stupid to start to get her hopes up. After all, it wasn’t like she knew anything about him. Just the version of the story he told.

Although…checking up on him might not be hard. She might not know her father’s last name, but there had to be a record of it somewhere. A marriage license, information connected to her mother, letters, something. Once she knew that, she could search for information on him personally. If he had ended up with a bad crowd, there was bound to be something about what they got up to. That would at least tell her what his definition of ‘bad’ was, and how long ago he’d left them behind. It might not be a lot, but it would be something.

Several days letter, she finally received a letter.

Dear Merry,

A little bird told me that you were interested in finance and stock investments. I thought you might like this book. It’s a little more detailed than the ones you can usually find.

Love, Dad

Mer opened up the wrapped parcel that came with it and her mouth dropped open in shock. It was the Fundamentals of Investments from McGraw-Hill Education. It was regarded as one of the best introductory books, and it was also several hundred dollars. It was the kind of book that the books she’d been reading referenced as a source, but it was beyond what most libraries cared to stock. And it was now here. It was hers. Because Kyle-her father – had given it to her. Just because he’d heard she was interested.

For the moment, she was so blown away, she couldn’t even begin to think about who might have told him that she was interested. Instead, she immediately began to read.

Mer hadn’t wanted to tell her sisters what she was up to. For some reason, he still hadn’t reached out to the two of them, but he’d said he wanted to introduce himself in his own time, so she couldn’t very well spoil it. But she also knew them well enough to be fairly certain that they wouldn’t approve of her suspicious nature or the way she was going about solving the problem. So, until she had some sort of sign that her suspicions were proved, she was going to keep this little research project to herself.

Instead, she’d told them that she was planning on cleaning the attic. Once again, it wasn’t a lie because it was about time that attic got cleared out so they could use it for something else. Or at least, it could use a good dusting, and Mer rarely gave that the time it deserved. So, she would get some cleaning done. And if at the same time, she happened to come across some old piece of documentation or a packet of letters conveniently wrapped, well. That was just good luck wasn’t it?

Mer pushed open the door into the attic. “Oh dear.”

This was going to be a bigger job than she’d thought.

In the wake of their mother’s death, there had been a lot the girls just weren’t able to handle. Over time, Mer had tracked down most of the relevant financial information, but the rest had been shoved into boxes to be ‘dealt with later’. Which meant that all of her mother’s work related papers, all of her personal correspondence, all of her family heirlooms and ancient photo albums, all of it had ended up here. How was Mer supposed to sort through it all?

Well. No time like the present to begin. If she could simply identify what each box was and sort it into piles, it would make it easier to find exactly what she was looking for. But this wasn’t going to be a one day job after all.

Dear Kyle,

Why haven’t you spoken to Flora or Fauna yet? I don’t like keeping secrets from them, and this is something they deserve to know too.

Meredith

Little Merry,

I know, I do need to talk to them. And I will soon, I promise. Did you like the book?

Love, Dad

Kyle,

I did, it was incredibly informative. This second time through, I’m trying to make more detailed notes so I can try and solidify the connections between the material in my mind. It makes for a nice break from summer homework.

Meredith

Little Merry One,

That’s excellent! I know I have a lot to make up for with how long I was out of your life, so I hope this was a start. Hey, why don’t we play a game? Each time I write to you, I’ll try to change something about my handwriting. You try and figure out what it is and copy it in your letter back to me. It’ll give these a little more personality right?

Love, Dad

Kyle,

I suppose it sounds interesting. I’ve never tried that before, but I don’t mind the intellectual challenge. How did you think of this?

Meredith

My Merry One,

It’s a game a few of my friends and I play with each other. Eventually we got to the point where we could make every letter look like it was written by a different person. We’d even come up with signatures for that sort of handwriting.

Love, Dad

Kyle,

Your friends sound like interesting people. How is this first attempt?

Meredith

Mer found herself saving each of her father’s letters. Sometimes, she would reread them, just to see if she could catch glimpses of the person her mother had fallen so deeply in love with. They hadn’t met again in person since that first time. Apparently he was traveling for work and he couldn’t risk leaving things where they were. (When she’d asked him what that work was, he’d been vague, which seemed strange. Why wouldn’t he tell her about that? It was such a simple thing after all.)

But the letters had continued frequently, becoming more and more detailed about nearly everything else. He asked about her work in the auror office, and he seemed genuinely interested in the stories she had to tell about the famous Andrew Gardner and the young determined Violet Parr. He’d suggested a few cleaning spells for ink spells she’d never heard of, and she was planning on trying them as soon as the summer finished. Sometimes, it felt like she could hear the laughter through the text.

He asked about school and he seemed genuinely impressed at her maintaining such high grades on top of being a prefect and a Quidditch captain. He admitted that back in his school days, he hadn’t been either. More of a day dreamer, he’d gotten by in his classes, but he’d spent much more time making friends outside instead of participating in any one team activity. With a forced casualness and a jittery stomach, Mer said that if he was interested in seeing her play, she could tell him when that would be. In his response, he sounded delighted.

In a strange way, the thing she was the most closed mouth about was her home. Oh, she would share stories about her sisters, what they were like, how they lived together, what fun they had. But even rereading the letters before she sent them, she knew they were incomplete. She never spoke about Flora’s drinking problem, how sometimes she would run away, or how she’d been unable to manage the family finances. She never spoke about Fauna’s dreaminess, her inability to finish any task, and the way she had scraped through graduation. Instead, she ended up giving him the same vision of their life she gave the social worker. She wasn’t sure exactly why. Maybe because she wanted him to see her sister’s the way she saw them, the way they could be. He could learn the truth for himself.

He never spoke about the years he had spent away from their family. Occasionally, he would make a sort of veiled illusion to it, but it was never enough for her to understand what had actually happened with him. What kind of trouble had he been in? What were these friends like? Of course, she’d been looking herself, which she hadn’t told him. But that didn’t meant that part of her hadn’t been hoping that he would finally find a way to tell her himself. Every time she would try and follow up on one of his hints or ask a more direct question, he would ignore it or redirect it. As curious as he was about her, he was still such a closed book.

Sometimes, reading the letters felt a bit strange. After all, each week, the handwriting he used drifted farther and farther from his own true handwriting as they continued to play this game he had mentioned. Once or twice, the handwriting would stay the exact same if Mer hadn’t been able to copy it exactly the way he wanted her to. But the next week, it would change again as he would add some new twist. Already, comparing the first letter to the most recent letter was like looking at the work of a stranger.

Still, she knew who had written it. She could see the signature. So what did it matter if it didn’t look the way she was used to looking? It was a harmless enough game, and it seemed to make him happy as she figured out each new challenge he gave her and perfected it. So she wouldn’t say anything. She would keep going.

Just for a little while longer though. Of course.

Kyle Reed. His name was Kyle Reed. It had taken days of sorting, organizing, and reading through papers, but she had finally found it. In a box buried far at the back, she had found all the paper information related to her father. It seemed a little strange to her that there would be only a single box related to him, what with the deep passionate way her mother loved and the sheer number of letters her father clearly enjoyed writing. Then again, with how well the box had been hidden, it was clear her mother hadn’t wanted to hold on to took many of the details from her life with the man who walked away.

There hadn’t been any kind of marriage certificate inside that box, which was really what she had been hoping for. Instead, there were pictures, a few trinkets that clearly looked like lover’s tokens her mother hadn’t had the heart to discard, and a few letters. It was on the address envelope for one of those letters that she finally found the name she had been looking for for so long.

It was a slightly unassuming name. Such an odd fit for a man who even in his letters came across as larger than life. But names carried weight. They linked us to our past and sometimes served to shape their future.

Quietly, in the safety of the attic, Mer tried out the sound of the person she could have been. “Meredith Reed.” It sounded…off. Unfinished. As if the person she would be with that name was smaller than the one she was now, with less to hold onto.

Of course, that was entirely a mark of her own fancy. Really. She had clearly been spending far too much time by herself in the attic if she was starting to make wild leaps like that on the basis of saying a name outside once. Reed was a perfectly decent last name, and she had no business going around judging it. It wasn’t like he had any choice in the matter over what family he came from and what name he decided to use.

But now that she knew the name, she could find out the other information she wanted to know. It was time to find out the truth about Kyle Reed. Maybe, finally, she would begin to understand the holes in her past. Maybe she would finally be able to figure out if she could trust the man who had started to work his way back into her heart, almost in spite of herself. If he wasn’t going to tell her, she would find out on her own. And after that, if he still hadn’t talked to Flora and Fauna, she would take the choice out of his hands.

If she had the truth, they deserved it too.

My Little Merry One,

I’m going to be in Hogsmeade on Thursday. Do you think we could meet again? I miss seeing you in person. Letters are good, but they aren’t the same.”

Love, Dad

Dear Kyle,

I only work a half day on Thursday so I could meet with you in the afternoon if that works for you. Do you want to meet in the Three Broomsticks?

From, Meredith

My Little Merry One,

Why don’t we meet in the park and take a walk? I’ve been cramped up inside for days and I’d like to be out in the fresh air. Besides, you’ll be back in school soon which means long days in the classrooms and the library. Let’s take advantage of it! Run wild and free while we still have time!

Love, Dad

Dear Kyle,

You’re ridiculous. Fine, fine, the park it is. It’s supposed to be a beautiful day that day anyway so we might as well take advantage of it.

From, Meredith

My Little Merry One,

Perfect! Then I will see you then. Around 2:00? I have some big news to talk to you about. Don’t ask me about it, I don’t want to spoil the surprise. But I can’t wait! Take care of yourself sweetheart.

Love, Dad

Dear Kyle,

I’ll see you then.

From, Meredith

#self #fhogself #this is kind of a summary of what's been going on with her over the summer

I’m Not a Stranger, No I Am Yours || Self

As soon as May slipped inside her house, Lorna appeared, as if she had been waiting for May to be appear. Probably she had. It was later than she normally tried to be home, and the other staff were bound to worry about her. She really should have owled to let them know what was going on. She wasn’t sure exactly why she didn’t.

“Good evening ma’am.” The words were polite, but Lorna didn’t bother to hide the reproach in them. Despite her deep exhaustion, May smiled slightly.

“Good evening Lorna. I’m sorry I missed dinner.”

“Mrs. Reeves has kept a plate warm for you.”

Of course she had. The Marian cook was dependably as the sunrise, and she would never risk anyone in this household going hungry. No matter how picky the guest, no matter the time of day, no matter what calamity befell the rest of the world, Nora Reeves would see that everyone who entered this house left it full and satisfied. “Has my father eaten already?”

“Yes ma’am.”

May wasn’t sure if she should acknowledge the slight relief she felt at that. If he had already eaten, that meant she didn’t feel obliged to share her own meal with him. Of course she ate with him when she was home for meals, but as time got on, it became easier and easier to come up with reasons to stay a little bit longer at the office so she wouldn’t have to. It was hard enough seeing him the way he was these days. Trying to do something as normal as share a meal with him, something that used to be an incredibly special gift, was a little harder than she could handle at the moment.

But she didn’t really want to be alone either. “I guess I’ll have to see if Mrs. Reeves will let me sneak into the kitchen to enjoy it as an apology before going up to see him. How was he today?”

“The same as always.”

The reply was short, but it was all she needed to know. Mrs. McKendrick would have put on a brave face, saying something optimistic about how she saw some improvement. Bunter would have been impassive and said he was doing well, with no qualifiers. Many of the other servants would have made some kind of quiet comment about not seeing him enough to be sure as they had been taking care of their other duties. But wonderful Lorna knew that what May wanted most was the truth. And the truth was that in the months since the trial, nothing had changed. He hadn’t gotten any better. He’d just stayed.

“Very well. Thank you Lorna.”

Lorna nodded slightly and faded back, off to continue her duties and to leave May to hers. Part of May wished she could ask Lorna to stay. To sit with her as she ate, gossip with her, laugh like they had when they’d been children who didn’t have so many expectations layered on them until it was hard to separate who they were from what they were expected to do. But it would have been selfish. Lorna had already put in a long day, and now that May was home, she would have to finish preparing for May to retire. The other woman needed her sleep. At least one of them should get a little. May already knew she wouldn’t.

Down in the kitchens, May did her best to do justice to the shepherd’s pie Nora had made for her. She knew it was the woman’s way of trying to provide as much nutrition and comfort as she could, but May was still only able to eat half of it. It was delicious. But her appetite was still nonexistent. Briefly, she wished that she had some pet, like a dog, that she could feed under the table to hide how much she had left on her plate. Then, as she had so often before, she brushed the thought aside.

May tried to pretend that she didn’t see the concerned disappointment on the cook’s face at her partially full plate as she excused herself. As she did every day, she promised herself that tomorrow she would really finish a full serving of whatever Nora gave her. She was sure to be hungrier tomorrow.

But now, she had to face her father.

As she mounted the stairs, May could feel her stomach beginning to tie itself into knots. It shouldn’t be this way. She loved her father. She loved him more than anyone else in the world. He had taught her everything she knew about flying, broommaking, poker, and the power of a boundless love. Many of her brightest memories were of the days she spent with him as he combined learning and play to remind her that while she was the Marian heir, she was still allowed to be a child. After her mother’s death, he had become almost her entire world, and she had done whatever she could to help him to try and make him proud.

When he’d gone missing, she’d felt like she was drowning every day in the loss and the loneliness. Maybe the not knowing had been the worst. Not knowing meant that hope could grow like a vine, choking out everything else and narrowing her focus to a deep and desperate prayer. She had lied, wept, sacrificed, all in order to preserve the legacy he had left her to protect even as she insisted she was only borrowing it for a little while. It had become hers and yet wasn’t hers at all because she had always assumed it would be a temporary stop gap. It was just supposed to be until he came home.

Now, there was a small treacherous part of her that wondered if their current situation was really any better.

May rapped loudly at the door of the library before slowly easing it open. It had only taken two days for the entire household to realize the wisdom of approaching this man slowly and loudly. Any action that could be construed as an attack would be met with a swift and vicious curse. Wherever he’d been for the last few years, whatever he’d been doing, the one thing that had been trained above all else had been his fighting instinct. She could only be grateful that no one had been killed before they had figured that out.

“Good evening Father. I’m home.” May had pulled together something like her usual smile. Of course, anyone who knew her well would see through it in a minute. Her father should. But the man in front of her didn’t.

He didn’t respond to her statement, merely looking up from the book he was reading at the moment. He wasn’t sitting in his usual chair in the library. Instead, he was sitting in the chair that had always been used by her uncle. It was a little thing. A stupid thing. But it bothered her and gave her heart another painful twist.

“I’m sorry I’m late. I had planned to be home earlier, but at the last minute one of the researchers asked if there was time to meet with me. Do you remember Phil Wallace? You hired him away from Comet because they were paying him peanuts for the genius work he was doing for them? He’s been the researcher most supportive of my idea of brooms specialized for specific aspects of the game, and he’s been working incredibly hard on my idea for a keeper’s broom. The seeker broom has already left research and is going into preliminary production, so soon we’ll be able to start seriously promoting our friendly advertising game.”

She paused, hoping that this time, this time, something she’d said would reach him and she would see the light of recognition in his eyes. But there was nothing.

“I was thinking of having Mulan test the first keeper’s broom. After all, as a B string player on the Harpies, no one can say that we’re giving the team an undue competitive advantage in real matches, and the stability we’re building into the keeper’s broom could also help when she’s acting as a TA or a referee. What do you think?”

Nothing. It was like talking to a brick wall. Just one that had her father’s face.

Desperately, May cast around for another topic. Every day it was the same. She came in here, she tried to speak with him, to tell him stories or talk with him like this was normally. Every day she hoped that something she would say would spark the necessary connection to help him through off the curse that held him captive. Something had to be the key that would cause the light to kindle in his eyes. Something had to make him smile at her in the way he always had before. Something had to help him remember. But for now, all she had was this stranger who wore her father’s face staring back.

“Did you look at the photo albums I left out?” One look at them was enough to be sure that he hadn’t. They were still placed exactly as she’d left them the night before. Now seemed as good a time as any to go through them. Maybe they would be what worked.

She had only tried showing him pictures once before. Those had mostly been recent pictures from the years after she’d gone to Hogwarts. Dinners, poker games, summer fete after summer fete, family Christmas, and Saturdays spent bent over his workbench together as he pointed out some new aspect of broommaking she hadn’t known before. Pictures of him with the servants, pictures with his coworkers, pictures with his friends. Each picture was increasingly bittersweet as the figures in the photos smiled and waved up at the two of them. In those pictures, her father looked more alive than he did sitting right next to her.

But this time, she had reached for the older photo albums. The ones she hadn’t been sure she was strong enough to go through. The last thing she could think to try.

As she opened the album, her breath caught slightly. It was the picture from her parents wedding day. He wore his nicest black suit, and somehow he’d found a vest that perfectly matched her hair. She wore an elegant white wedding gown, a slim column that still managed to subtly sparkle on the page. Her hair was sept up in a series of elaborate curls that looked like the pin was holding onto them entirely through magic. It looked exactly like what it was. The wedding of the rich and powerful. And yet, the couple on the page barely glanced up to see who might be looking at the picture. They never left. They barely took their eyes off each other, because in that moment, they were each other’s whole world. Even the creation of this memory was incidental to the fact that they were now married to each other.

She glanced up at her father, hoping to see some kind of glimmer in his eyes. After all, how could there not be? She had been the light of his life, his love for forever and a day, his inspiration to change, his muse, his everything. That kind of love had to leave a mark deep in your soul. How could he not respond to that?

But she couldn’t even begin to see mild curiosity there. As she turned each page, she tried to narrate what was happening in the picture, waiting, waiting for the curse to break. He had taken this picture of May and her mother as she had accidentally flown into her mother and knocked the woman down. This picture was from Christmas when May was 5, and her father had actually taken time off so the family could go on vacation. This picture was the three of them laying around in the library and reading their individual books. This picture May had taken when her parents weren’t paying attention and it captured the loving looks in their eyes. This picture was May’s first formal gathering as a Marian with them. This was the last picture taken before her mother died.

As she reached the end of the album, she closed it, hoping that maybe she was wrong and it had worked after all. But there was nothing. He looked at her for a moment before dismissing her and picking up the book he had been reading. Almost without realizing it, she glanced over to see what had captured his attention. What did this stranger want to read when given the chance.

It only took her a moment to recognize the poem.

From childhood’s hour I have not been As others were—I have not seen As others saw—I could not bring My passions from a common spring— From the same source I have not taken My sorrow—I could not awaken My heart to joy at the same tone— And all I lov’d—I lov’d alone—

As soon as she made it to that line, she stood and fled the room. All I loved I loved alone. The words echoed in her head as she made her way back to her own room. She had only just made it inside when she collapsed on the floor, curling up into a ball and shuddering violently.

What could she do? Why did nothing work? Why didn’t her father remember her? She had him back in body, but seeing him like this, empty of everything that made him the person she loved and worshipped…how was she supposed to cope?

Why wasn’t the memories of her mother enough? Why wasn’t she enough?

When her father looked at her now, there wasn’t the slightest glimmer of recognition. She wanted to grab him, shake him, scream in his face, STOP LOOKING AT ME LIKE I’M SOME STRANGER! I’M YOUR DAUGHTER! I’M YOURS! But she didn’t. Because good, kind, strong, compassionate May Marian who always kept herself together under pressure wouldn’t do that. The daughter he remembered wouldn’t do that. But did it matter? He didn’t remember his daughter. She could be anyone to him. She was no one.

She bit her lip, trying to hold back the tears, but that didn’t work. Hard sobs wracked her body, tears streaming down her face as her heart shattered yet again. She hadn’t thought there had been enough of it left to break. But somehow, there was always more. More disappointment. More hurt. More realization that the person she was was not, and could never be, right for the people she loved.

She loved. But she loved alone.

#self #fhogself

Happiest of Days (self-para)

As the clock struck down to midnight, August 3 became August 4. Milo had already set out a small treacle tart he had gotten from the Three Broomsticks and set a little candle on the center.

#happiest of days #self #fhogself #a little birthday para for milo #super short read

The Sorting

#Flashback #Selfie #this is how it all began haha #fhogself

I’ll Do Anything || Self

When Belle had received the letter from ‘Chrissy’, she had been surprised. As much as she trusted Maui, it was difficult to believe that the people he worked for would be interested in helping her just because he asked. What was in this for them? Why would they bother going to so much trouble over a problem that had no national significance, but only significance to her? It seemed so strange. Belle couldn’t help looking at the proposal from every angle, trying to find what the hidden catch might be.

But there was never a question of going. First of all, Chrissy worked in the Department of Mysteries apparently, a place Belle had always wanted to see. Secondly, and far more importantly, if there was the slightest chance that these people could help bring her father home safe and sound, she wasn’t going to risk throwing that aside. She would do whatever it took to bring him home. After all, hadn’t she made a deal with the devil once to protect him? Whatever was coming couldn’t be worse than what had already happened.

Belle had begged off from work, claiming that she was too ill to be around the customers. Luckily, she hadn’t ever done that before, so no one was suspicious of her answer. It helped that Peggy was the one who responded to her owl. She was by far the most sympathetic, which made her the best person to speak to. Belle had the day to herself.

There was a certain thrill to skipping out on work to go on her own mini adventure. If the reasons weren’t so dire, she could have given herself over to the pleasure completely. As it was, she didn’t bother to take the train, and instead used floo powder to go straight to the Ministry itself.

As soon as she arrived, she stepped out of the massive glittering fireplace and into an almost overwhelming chaos. People rushed past her in every direction, all of them looking like they were late to get somewhere, while paper airplanes zipped by overhead. The massive row of fireplaces kept flaring green as more people stepped in and out, and Belle found herself shoved to the side by someone coming in behind her.

Standing there, dressed in her usual everyday clothes, Belle felt small, underdressed, and unimportant. For a moment, she felt her breath beginning to come faster as her heart began to pound harder and harder. What was she doing here? Who was she to ask one of these busy glamorous people for help when she was still no one at all? Why did she think she could do this? But even as she thought about taking a step backwards away from all this, the image of her father’s sick and exhausted frame flashed through her mind. No. This was for him. She could do this. Taking a deep breath, she squared her shoulders and strode forward into the crowd as if she belonged. If she was clutching her purse a little too tightly, no one else had to know but her.

A little ways in front of her, Belle could see an elaborate gold desk with ‘Information’ carved into a sign sitting on top in an elaborate script. A severe and professional looking woman sat behind the desk, looking industrious and as if she didn’t want to be disturbed in the slightest. Oh well.

“Excuse me, I have an appointment with Chrissy from the Department of Mysteries.”

When Belle first began to speak, the woman didn’t bother to look up from whatever she was writing. But as soon as Belle mentioned the name, she looked up sharply, laying her quill aside. “Name?”

“Belle Moore.”

She looked down for a moment, but if there was any sort of list she was examining, Belle couldn’t see it. Still, a moment later she looked up. “Yes, she is expecting you. Take the elevator down to Level 9. Then continue straight forward to enter the Department proper. Once inside, do not move. Ms. Nickles will come get you from there.”

“Thank you.”

Feeling slightly unsettled by the exchange in a way she couldn’t explain, Belle nevertheless followed the woman’s instructions. When she entered the elevator and pushed the button for ‘Level 9’, several of the other witches and wizards gave her a small look before edging away slightly. Still, that wasn’t as unusual as would be expected, so Belle paid no attention to it. The elevator dropped everyone else off before finally going back down to Level 9. The Department of Mysteries.

The elevator door opened to reveal black tiled walls that had no windows. At the end of the corridor was a single plain black door, which, presumably, led to the Department of Mysteries. She could see a small flight of stairs off to her left, but as the woman at the information desk hadn’t mentioned it, she ignored those. Instead, she walked straight forward as quickly as possible, heels echoing uncomfortably loudly on the walls around her, and opened the door.

On the other side, there was a round room with several doors, but there was still no color to be seen. None of the doors looked to be marked either. Belle let the door she’d come in through swing shut, planning to walk across and try the first door she could, when she paused. Wasn’t she supposed to wait? Just as she had that thought, the room began to spin around her. Belle was so surprised, she didn’t think to try and mark any of the doors until it was too late. She had no idea which one she’d come in at. And she had no idea where she was supposed to go. She was stuck.

What should she do? Call out for help? But there was no guarantee they would hear her, and the whispered stories spread about the Unspeakables made her hesitant to draw their attention. Try to cast a locator spell? Except clearly this room was designed to disorient you, which meant that spell probably wouldn’t work either. Of course, Chrissy knew she was coming, so it was probably better to wait. But how long was it reasonable to wait? What if she was trapped here for hours? Why didn’t she tell anyone else where she was going? What if-

A door off to her right opened, and Belle whipped her head around to stare at the person who came through. A woman who looked to be a little older than her and about her own height came forward, smiling broadly. Her hair was light pink near the roots, and slowly darkened to a rich purple by the time it reached her tips. There was also something about her face that simultaneously captured Belle’s fascination and set her on edge, although she couldn’t point to exactly what it was. All she knew was that this woman looked more unique than anyone she had ever met in her life.

“You must be Belle! Come on back to my office, this place isn’t comfortable for any sort of meetings and my colleagues can be a little grumpy about strangers sometimes.” Her voice was upbeat and personable, softening the strange perception and making her seem more human. Belle couldn’t have said why, but she found herself relaxing slightly. Behind her, the room had begun to spin again, and they were once again faced with the series of identical doors. But Chrissy didn’t hesitate and walked to a doorway approximately five doors away from the one she’d entered at.

“How do you know which door to go to?”

Chrissy grinned and winked at Belle, tapping her lips. “It’s a secret. Maybe if we can steal you into our office at some point we’ll be able to tell you. Otherwise, you just have to trust me. Welcome to the Thought Room.”

As Chrissy pulled open the door, she revealed a long and rectangular chamber, lit by lamps hanging low on golden chains from the ceiling. The room was mostly empty except for a few desks surrounding an enormous glass tank of green liquid. Inside the tank, a number of pearly-white brains drifted around. Belle was both repulsed and fascinated by the sight of the brains floating around. Was that really what was on the inside of her head?

“It’s a little trippy to look at isn’t it? Still, we’re not here to talk about my work. We’re here to talk about you. So, what can you tell me about your father?”

Belle had hundreds of questions on the tip of her tongue. What exactly did Chrissy work on? Why were there brains floating here? Where were the other Unspeakables for this department? Why was it called the Thought Room? Why was the Ministry studying thought in the first place? But the mention of her father brought her back and refocused her. This woman promised her help. And time was running out.

“My father has never been particularly good with money. Recently, he ended up in serious debt trying to finance one of his newest inventions. The local Hogsmeade bookseller Mr. Dubois purchased the debt, and told the two of us that he would not declare us bankrupt if I worked the debt off in his bookshop. Of course, I agreed. I have now worked there for a full two years. In that time, Mr. Dubois’s son has shown an increasing amount of interest in me. As I don’t return his interest, I’ve given him no encouragement. However, each time I refuse him, Mr. Dubois adds something to my workload to make it clear he is displeased with my response.

“A year ago, my father was told that he would have one chance to help lighten my workload and earn some of the money himself. The only problem was that he would need to leave immediately, and he wouldn’t be able to write me while he was ‘learning how to properly manage funds and earn wages as well’. I was certain it was a scam, but all of my attempts to contact him failed. So all I could do is wait.

“However, on my birthday, he sent me a letter and a rose. The letter made it clear that he took a huge risk doing that. Maui did some feat of magic that should have been impossible, but it allowed us to see where my father is. Right now, he’s trapped in some awful work camp on the outskirts of Villenueve-Loubet, France. And he’s dying. They’re clearly using his inventing skills for something, but the room is horribly drafty and he has a cough and I’ve never seen him look so sick in my life. If we don’t get him out of there soon, he’ll die. I won’t let that happen.

“Maui said he would ask you for help. More precisely, he wrote to the Head of Magical Security, but it sounds like you two are partners of a kind. So, will you help me? Or am I doing this on my own? Because one way or another, I will get my father back. I don’t care what I have to do.”

Throughout the speech, Chrissy stood with her eyes fixed firmly on Belle’s. She was completely still, besides giving her the occasional nod every time Belle paused in the story, as if silently urging Belle to keep talking and spill out all of the words that had been trapped inside her for so long. For some reason, it made it that much easier to talk to her until the basics of the story were spent. Then all Belle could do was wait, head tilted up defiantly as she waited for the verdict.

“What do you want?”

Belle stared at her, speechless. “What do I want? I just told you! I want my father home! I want him safe where I can look after him and he doesn’t do something stupid like this ever again! I want your help getting him out of there, or I want you to stay far out of my way, because I’ll do anything to save him.”

Chrissy nodded, although there was something in her eyes that sent a slight chill down Belle’s spine. As if something Belle had just said had been the key Chrissy had been waiting for. But as soon as that thought crossed Belle’s mind, the look was gone, and all she could see was the warm sympathy on the other woman’s face.

“I understand. But there are two ways we can do that. I’m just trying to figure out which one would be better. The first way would be for me or one of my colleagues to go fetch him out and bring him home – “

“No.” Belle interrupted instantly. Maybe it would be smarter to have the Ministry people take care of this issue. But whether or not it was smarter, it wasn’t right. “No I need to be involved in this. I need to help him. And staying in my flat twiddling my thumbs while someone else does the work doesn’t count. What is the second way?”

“Well, as you saw, Maui is able to perform some extraordinary magic now that he works with us.”

Chrissy paused, and Belle prompted quietly, “The Ministry?”

“No. Well, some of us are in the Ministry, but we’re not really the Ministry. Or not just. We’re a group of lots of different people who are trying to work for the betterment of the whole wizarding world. So, to be able to do that, a few of us have found a way to access this force that gives us an extra something to our magic. Sometimes it’s just more power, but other times, it can be a very specific skill. Either way, it makes you stronger. All you have to do in return is help out me or one of my colleagues once in awhile. If you really want to save him yourself, I can give you that as well as provide transportation for you to France. What do you say?”

Belle paused for a moment. Part of her couldn’t help being wary. This was yet another contract she was considering because her father was in trouble. ‘Helping people out’ was vague enough that they could technically ask her to do anything from make them a cup of tea to murder someone, and it would be difficult to say no the way it was currently defined. She didn’t know these people at all, she had no reason to trust them, and nothing really to offer them in return. This was most likely going to end badly for her. Why should she go along with it? Was it really worth the risk?

And yet, Maui knew and trusted these people. She’d seen a glimpse of the amazing magic he was capable of, which showed they kept their promises. And, unlike her boss, they wanted to work to make the magic world better. This wasn’t some self-interested capitalistic goal that happened to involve her. This was a chance to be part of a greater quest, to be involved in something so much bigger than her. To do something that actually mattered. Maybe their tasks would give her the chance to travel the world, just as she’d always wanted to. Anything was possible with a group who could actually do what they had promised.

More than all of that? What she had said was true. No matter what it cost her, no matter the risk, no matter the potential for regrets later on, she would do anything for her father.

“I’ll do it.”

“Really? Are you sure? I mean, you could be a huge help and do a lot of good, but I want you to join the Nihil – that’s us – because you want to, not because we trapped you into it. We’re kind of like a big family, and it hurts everyone if you come into this angry. So are you sure?”

In a weird way, Chrissy’s objection only strengthened Belle’s resolve. This wasn’t like Mr. Dubois. She cared about whether or not Belle would be happy in this. Belle’s decision actually mattered, and she had made sure the choice was firmly in Belle’s hands. The fact that she would apparently be getting a new bigger family out of it? Really just a bonus.

“I’m sure. What do I do?”

At those words, she could see a small pinprick of something begin to form in the air between her and Chrissy. At first, it looked more like a trick of the light, but it grew rapidly until there it hovered there about the size of a large beach ball. The crackling mass of energy was nearly impossible to describe, continuously shifting in colors so it looked like a small galaxy, filling the room with light even as the center itself was so dark it seemed to be pulling the rest of the light from the room into itself.

Chrissy’s voice was deeper, richer somehow, as she spoke. “Repeat after me. I will support and follow the Nihil. I will do what is needed when I am asked. I give myself to the Nihil.”

Belle took a deep breath, but her voice was strong with no hints of uncertainty when she spoke. “I will support and follow the Nihil. I will do what is needed when I am asked. I give myself to the Nihil.”

Belle thought she heard someone say, “So mote it be,” but she couldn’t be sure. In the moment she had finished speaking, one of the crackling beams shot away from the main energy mass and shot into her, hitting just under her heart. With a gasp, Belle arched backwards, head thrown to the ceiling as she absorbed the power. It was like being flooded with lightning, and but it wasn’t painful. Instead, it felt…glorious. It was a heady rush, like what she imagined love at first sight or the first hit of a new stimulant drug felt like. She had no idea how long she stood there, reveling in the power, before it faded. As soon as it did, she collapsed to the floor.

Belle was panting as if she had just run a marathon, and for some reason, she couldn’t find the strength to stand. But then, a hand appeared in front of her. She followed it up to see Chrissy’s smiling face. “Welcome to the family.”

Belle smiled in return and let herself be pulled to her feet. “Thank you. That was… wow.” Someday Belle might have words for that experience, but she didn’t have them at the moment. She was reeling too much from the simple fact of it happening.

“I know right?”

“So, does this mean I’ll have more power now? Like Maui?”

At her question, Chrissy tilted her head, as if she were thinking or listening very hard. “No, not exactly. See, the power manifests itself different based on the person and what they want. You wanted something different than Maui, so you were able to get something different.”

“Like what?” Belle remembered something vaguely about a new skill, but she still didn’t understand what that meant.

“You now have conscious control over your veela heritage.”

At the words, Belle stared at her. Her mind had gone completely blank. What? Veela heritage? She must have heard wrong, because that was ridiculous. She didn’t have any veela heritage. “What are you talking about?”

“You didn’t know?”

“No, of course I didn’t, because there’s nothing to know. I can’t be a veela.”

“Haven’t you ever felt lonely? Like you were different from the people around you? Like men were drawn to you, whether you wanted them to be or not, but women were always more uncomfortable in your presence? Have you ever felt drawn to love stories, dreaming of your own, even as you are annoyed by almost everyone who tries to become involved with you?”

Belle’s mind was reeling as Chrissy spoke. Of course, some of what she said could have been extrapolated from Belle’s story, but not all of it. And all of it was…exact. It was completely accurate for her in a way that so few things had been. So was that the answer to the question she could never understand? Why she wanted so desperately to be a part of things, and at the same time had embraced her independence because she could never fit in with the others no matter what? Was it because she hadn’t ever been entirely human after all?

Chrissy paused for a moment, but when no response was forthcoming, she kept speaking. “You’re not a full veela of course. Neither was your mother I’d say. But you do have veela blood in you, just enough to cause an effect, but not enough for you to be able to notice it without being told. This is the truth, I promise. I’m sorry, I thought you would know.”

“I…didn’t.” And this was something Belle was going to have to think a lot about. Of course, her father had always talked about how beautiful her mother was, and how much he loved her, and how she turned heads everywhere she’d gone. It had been no surprise to him that Belle had been able to do the same. Was it because he had known all along? And if he had, why didn’t he tell her? And if he hadn’t, what did that mean for her parents? Did they love each other after all? Or was her father just trapped by the veela spell?

And Maui. Did this mean he didn’t actually enjoy her company? Was it just that she had accidentally attracted him to her to get what she wanted? Would she ever be able to trust herself around him again, now that she knew this was part of her?

“You said I have conscious control over it now. What does this mean?”

“Well, it’s sort of up to you. You’re going to have to find the limits of all of this. But with a little practice, I’d say you can push your veela attraction and seduction either way. You can suppress it completely so it stops affecting people, or you can push it up more strongly than you ever had the power to do naturally so you can make people do what you want for a little while. It’s up to you and how much you choose to do. With work and practice.”

With work and practice, she would be able to decide when it mattered? Well, she was intelligent and a hard worker. She would figure this out. If she couldn’t control the rest of her life, she could at least control all these parts of herself. No one would be able to take that away from her. She just had to put her mind to it.

And, if she was able to push this up, she could maybe try and distract the guards around her father and make them forget about him until she could stun them or something else. It felt like cheating, but that was fine. It would save her father, and that was exactly what she had wanted.

So she would practice. She would learn. And she would do whatever it took.

“I’m sorry you had to find out this way, but I’m glad you could find out the truth. That’s what we want. We want to make things better and help the whole world know the truth about things. I think you’ll be a really great person to help with that.”

“I’ll do my best.” Belle replied. It was a promise.

#self #fhogself #this is v plot important for belle #surprise reveal about her!

Oops I did it again // Selfie

Clyde never meant to stumble on these things. Yet, somehow, the squib couldn't seem to stay out of them.

Clyde was home for the summer, and like any summer before he had his routine. It was familiar and normal and the return of the never a never-ending feeling of concern in his gut that he was wasting time. There were people that needed his help, his mother needed his help, and still, over two years later, Micheal still needed his help. The boy never seemed to have left him. That chilling last phone call and the voice mail he heard far too late. Panic had settled so deep in him it felt like a norm now. He should have told someone, but he didn't. He was a squib, what did he know about anything anyway?

Being home was like returning to his childhood. He was sleeping in the same bedroom he had been for years, he was taking care of his mother the same way he had been since he was 16, and he was back to a routine he had only when he was home. Nothing changed, but it didn't kill Clyde to be there though the panic made him think otherwise. It did kill him to think that things would never change, though. It was only nostalgia that kept him going throughout the day watching over his mom and prepping for his summer sessions. He liked summer, he saw students that were perhaps regulars, and on occasion, he saw actual adults who needed some quick help. It was a way to get extra cash, yes, but it also allowed some change in scenery as he ran his own little office from his mom's house.

Clyde went on errands for his mother now and then. She hadn't left the house much since the incident other than to go to therapy and the healers a few times a week. Clyde had officially hired a nurse to watch her, but that didn't mean he wasn't nervous to leave the house still. He just couldn't fathom the very likely chance she could die.

Clyde walked through Hogsmeade regardless, picking up groceries and some books for his mother.

Stumbling onto conversations was easy for Clyde. He was a natural listener. He was a helper. He was always in tune to his surroundings before himself, so while he was picking up a few books in Flourish and Blots, he couldn't help but be drawn to the voices that echoed through a back room.

They were hushed, as any conversation that wasn't meant to be heard by others should be. But in the back of Flourish and Blots was not secretive enough to keep Clyde away or for his ears to catch words that only peaked his interest further.

"We don't talk about those things here," A man said simply. At least it seemed like a simple request, but a voice that was surely too young to be mixed up with these things that couldn't be discussed in public piped up again.

"We need to talk about it though. You know what I saw!" It was surely a girl's voice that spoke, but the man didn't say a word before she spoke again. "How did you know I'd see that the-" She was cut off though, her words muffled. Clyde grew tense though, worried about the girl and her safety. She sounded so young.

"I told you to be quiet!" The man hissed. Just as he did, he poked his head out, and Clyde stuck his own head in the first book he saw. He needed to be blissfully unaware. He had one inconspicuous spying lesson from Calhoun, shouldn't he know how to do this? That didn't shake the feeling that Clyde surely still looked suspicious looking at healing potions to stop someone's toenail fungus.

The man stuck his head back into the room and returned to a more hushed tone. As he did though, Clyde inched over to hear better. He couldn't help but worry that the girl might be in trouble the way Mike was. Clyde was Mike's last hope and Clyde didn't even hear his call for help till long after he was gone. He was certain he would never make that mistake again. "We'll have a meeting," The man said softer now, he was whispering quickly, but his voice wasn't nearly as harsh as it was before. Maybe Clyde had thrown him off? "People don't understand right now, and that's okay. You know it's true don't you?" He asked the girl. The conversation suddenly seemed more innocent to Clyde; maybe there was nothing to worry about after all.

"Of course, but-" The girl was cut off again.

"No buts, you saw the truth, and now you'll meet others who saw there's. Someday, everyone will see it for themselves too." He sounded soft, gentle. Even Clyde wanted to trust him. He wanted truth. In this uncertainty, he had been facing recently with his mother, the students, and Mike, he would certainly give anything to see something that was true.

Clyde backed away, happy to know the girl was safe and let his guard down. Putting the book back on the shelf, Clyde left. Completely forgetting what he had come into the store for in the first place.

#When you can't write a selfie title cause you suck #selfies #fhogself #self-para #Nihil related

What it Amounts To || Roscoe Self

#fhogself #selfie #tw:cancer

I’ll Do Anything || Self

“Excuse me, I have an appointment with Chrissy from the Department of Mysteries.”

“Belle Moore.”

“Thank you.”

“How do you know which door to go to?”

“It’s a little trippy to look at isn’t it? Still, we’re not here to talk about my work. We’re here to talk about you. So, what can you tell me about your father?”

“What do you want?”

“Well, as you saw, Maui is able to perform some extraordinary magic now that he works with us.”

Chrissy paused, and Belle prompted quietly, “The Ministry?”

More than all of that? What she had said was true. No matter what it cost her, no matter the risk, no matter the potential for regrets later on, she would do anything for her father.

“I’ll do it.”

“I’m sure. What do I do?”

Chrissy’s voice was deeper, richer somehow, as she spoke. “Repeat after me. I will support and follow the Nihil. I will do what is needed when I am asked. I give myself to the Nihil.”

“I know right?”

“So, does this mean I’ll have more power now? Like Maui?”

“Like what?” Belle remembered something vaguely about a new skill, but she still didn’t understand what that meant.

“You now have conscious control over your veela heritage.”

“You didn’t know?”

“No, of course I didn’t, because there’s nothing to know. I can’t be a veela.”

“You said I have conscious control over it now. What does this mean?”

So she would practice. She would learn. And she would do whatever it took.

“I’ll do my best.” Belle replied. It was a promise.

#self #fhogself #this is v plot important for belle #surprise reveal about her!

#fhogself

Trending Tags

Recently Viewed Tags

#fhogself