#misc:hp

[ripjilys]

character profiles 1/? - Lily Evans

She had made her g's the same way he did :  The letter was an incredible treasure, proof that Lily Potter had lived, really lived

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character profiles 2/? - Alice Longbottom

"My son and his wife"  she said, "were tortured into insanity by You-Know-Who's followers."

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character profiles 3/? - Marlene McKinnon

Marlene McKinnon, she was killed two weeks after this was taken, they got her whole family.

[ripjilys]

character profiles 4/? - Dorcas Meadowes 

That’s Dorcas Meadowes, Voldemort killed her personally...

[ripjilys]

September 1st 2017 - 19 years later

Thank you for everything

[ripjilys]

The last of her

Pairing: Sirius x Marlene Word count: 802 Summary: They’re loosing this war. Everyone knows it. One night, Sirius just wants to escape it all, and maybe Marlene could help him. Maybe she could just drag him down. Rating: K

London was dark tonight, clouds hanging low over the sleeping city. But Sirius wasn’t asleep. He was sitting on the roof of his flat, watching the city. It seemed to slow down at night, seemed to breath slower. The late September air bit at his cheek. Two years ago, they’d have been sitting here together, the four of them. They were young then, careless. Now, they were falling, helplessly. Fighting a losing battle.

Something moved behind him and Sirius flinched, turning on the spot. He was always prepared that at any moment someone would find him, creep up behind him without him hearing it. Then, as Marlene’s head peered up from the fire stairs, he drew a breath of relief. Maybe he shouldn’t have, they hadn’t ended things on great terms the last time they saw each other, but at this point anyone who didn’t straight up want to kill him was to prefer over someone who did. 

“Hi.” He looked from her, to the ground. The small stone square was littered with cigarettes, most of them his, so when she reached him one, he naturally took it. 

“Hi.” She took a drag at the cigarette. 

“How did you know…?”

“James told me about the…disagreement.” He thought she didn’t quite meet his gaze, as to tell him, wordlessly, that she still held the same opinion. “He would’ve come, but you know…Dumbledore has the cloak. He didn’t know who else to send.” She took another drag, leaning against the fire stairs.

“I know you don’t agree…” Marlene huffed, almost inaudible. “…but I think…we need to cut down on the people we trust. More so now than ever. After…Dorcas, who knows what will happen.”

“I can’t believe you still think Remus did it. He…he loved her.” She’d hesitated, and Sirius knew why. 

Drag in, drag out, they stood quiet for a long while. The lights in the building next door shut of, then the ones in a flat across the street. Not until then had he gone through the words in his head enough times to dare speak them. 

“I’m gonna say this.” He took a deep breath. “And hope you forget it in the morning.”

“The chances are high.” Marlene pulled out another cigarette, and sat down on the edge of the roof as she lit it. 

“I…I did. I do.” 

Marlene frowned at him.

“That night, you asked if I loved you. I did.”

“Past tense.” It wasn’t an accusation, or a question. Just a simple acknowledgement. 

“No, I mean, I do. I love you.” Of all the ways he’d imagined telling her those three words, this wasn’t one of them. But he’d learnt that life didn’t ever go like you imagined. 

The night hid her reaction from him. “Maybe…maybe I do too.” She pulled her knees closer to her. 

“I love you, Marlene McKinnon, and it scares the bloody hell out of me. Because I’ve seen what happens when you love, you end up heartbroken. You don’t understand how much I wish I could hate you. I wish you could disappear into the night and I wouldn’t spend every moment worrying until I heard from you again. But fucking hell, I can’t.” He didn’t notice the tears running down his cheeks until he took a deep, slightly shaky, breath and stopped talking. 

Marlene was moving, he heard her shoes touch the stone. They were still high heeled, like they were still in school, and Mary was still there to compete with her. The tapping sound as they moved across the small square, and the unreadable expression on her face as she came close enough for him too get a proper look at her. 

In the years to come, he’d replay it in his mind. The tapping, the facial expression.

Then, she pressed her lips against him, slowly, softly. It was an apology and an explanation. It was all the hellos and all the goodbyes. He just didn’t realise what goodbye. The last goodbye.

When she leaned back, their hands touched. Sirius would always remember that touch. The last touch.

“If I’m supposed to have forgotten this in -” She glanced at her wristwatch. “- five hours, I better get to that forgetting.” He’d replay those words time after time, until they were the constant background song to everything he was doing. The last words.

He stood in the stone square for a while longer, until he was sure she’d exited the building. If he got to do it over again, he wouldn’t have waited. He would’ve ran after her, swept her up in his arms, convinced her to stay with him. But he didn’t, because he didn’t know. He didn’t know what he’d just seen was the last he’d ever really see. The last of her.

[ripjilys]

will you have forgotten it in the morning?

Requested by: @jilydoe

Pairing: James x Lily Word count: 648 Summary: James and Lily are the only ones left in the common room one night after a party, and James says more than he should have. Rating: K

Lily was on the sofa giggling hysterically. Everyone else had gone up to bed, but James had stayed around, because Lily was clearly in so state to take care of herself. That’s what friends did? Right? Sirius had rolled his exaggeratedly when he had said it, knowing as well as James did that ‘friends’ was no where in his equation.

“Hey Lils.” He sat down next to her on the couch.

“Mhm.” Not sure if she was falling asleep or just had tired of giggling, he continued talking. “How drunk are you?”

“I am very very drunk.” She said each word with more force than the last one.

They had a good thing going. He’d learnt to ‘behave himself’ as she had expressed it a sunny day down by the lake, and he hadn’t thought about how his stomach filled with butterflies whenever she looked at him in almost…ten minutes. He shouldn’t do it. Should he?

“If I say this now, will you have forgotten it in the morning? ”

“Probably, Jamie.”

James laughed, adjusting her head so she wouldn’t hurt her neck when it hung over he edge of the sofa.

“I want you to know…Lily, that my feelings haven’t changed a bit. By legs still feel like cooked spaghetti when you talk to me. I still think my heart is going to jump up my throat when you enter the room. I just…I know you don’t feel the same thing, and it hurts. It hurts so much to know that I want something I’ll never get. Some people might enjoy the chase, I enjoy it when the chase is done. I like it when I get the Quaffle through the goal-hoop, when the boss is beaten. Everyone has told me to give up, but I don’t want to give up. I don’t want to stop loving you, because loving you is the best feeling ever. Oh my god. I love you.” He blinked , no longer sure himself what he was saying. He thought Lily might be asleep, but he kept going anyways. “I love how you wear sandals, even when it’s freezing, I love how you bite your nails when you think no one’s watching. I love all of you, and I want to keep loving you, every day.”

Lily’s eyes flickered open. Oh god. Oh god. Oh god. What had he done. He’d just screwed up everything. You don’t just go telling someone something like that.

“James…” She slurred. “Maybe I like you too.”

“Okay, you’re really drunk.” James made an attempt to lift her from the sofa.

“I mean it.” Lily sat up, breaking free from James’ grip. “You’re so sweet.” She put her hand in his. “I want someone who’s sweet, like you. I want you.” It was all James had wanted to hear since he was thirteen. But she was barely conscious, she couldn’t possibly be aware of what she was saying.

“Come on, let’s get you into bed.” He made another attempt to move her. “We’ll talk in the morning.”

She didn’t protest this time, and let James put his arm around her waist, slowly guiding her towards the stairs. She was leaning into his chest, giggling.

“What?” He looked at her.

“I’m…I’m not gonna forget this.”

“Let’s see about that.” He kissed her forehead. “Can you walk?” They’d reached the staircase.

She shook her head, still buried in his sweater.

“Okay, come on then.” He picked her up bridal style and, with one hand on the banister, started up the stairs. By the time James remembered the slide function of the stairs, it was too late. He was falling and Lily was falling too. Lying on his back on the cold stone floor, Lily beside him, he started laughing.

“What?”

“This is just…” He chuckled. “It’s not going well.”

“I think it’s going alright.” Lily turned her head and looked at him, smiling.

[ripjilys]

Why are you baking muffins at three in the morning?

Pairing: Ron x Hermione Word count: 668 Summary: Ron gets up at 3 in the morning, thinking the neighbors are drilling in the wall again, but it turns out to be something else entirely.  Rating: K Read on: fanfiction.net

A/N: like about a month ago I wrote this romione piece, and this one has been finished since about then when @karkaroff got pissed of at my torturing of these poor babies, so this happened

Ron woke up to what sounded like someone drilling into a wall. He was gonna kill those bloody neighbours. He didn’t care anymore that they were in their eighties or that they always invited them over for tea, or that the lady baked incredible cookies. This was the third time this week they’d seemed it fit to put up shelves at three in the morning. Doing his best not to wake Hermione up, and resiting the urge to just bang a wall, any wall, he got out of bed and pulled his nigh-robe closer around him as he walked down the hallway. 

The drilling had stopped and as he walked across the cold living room floor. The kitchen light was on. That was odd. Hermione was always careful to turn off all the lights before they went to bed. Then, he saw the shadow in the door opening. 

“Hermione?” 

She looked up from whatever she was doing over at the counter. There was flour on her cheeks and she sported a wide smile. Her eyes sparkled. “Hi.”

“What…what’re you doing?” Ron looked around at the kitchen. The sink was filled with cups, bowls and what looked like a large torture device.

“I’m baking.”

“You’re… it’s three am.”

“I’m doing muffins.” She jumped up to sit on the kitchen counter and smiled at Ron. 

“Why the bloody hell are you baking muffins at three in the morning?”

“Because.” She dangled her legs an there was a light thod each time they hit the counter“I felt like it. Why are you awake?” She pulled him towards her. “Couldn’t sleep without me, could you.” She leaned forward and rubbed her nose against his. 

“Sure.” He kissed her lightly. “No, the neighbours are drilling in the bloody wall again.”

“Really? I didn’t hear anything?”

“You must be deaf. I heard it all the way from the bedroom.”

“Ronald…” She shook her head and reached over to the sink. Taking the torture device in one hand, she plugged it in with the other.

“Woah, you don’t have to dig out my insides! I won’t complain about the drilling, or call you deaf-” She turned it on, laughing. At him, he assumed.

“This.” The noise was still going. And it sounded weirdly like…a drill. “Is an electric mixer.” She turned it off.

“I’m an idiot.”

“Yeah.” She smiled. “But you’re my idiot.” She pulled him closer to her and wrapped her arms around his neck. He leaned in and kissed her. Slowly and softly. Her hands moved up and were combing through the tangles in his hair that was overdue for a haircut. She drew in a sharp breath as he stroke his hand along her jawline and down her neck. 

When the timer went off, he wanted to ignore it. He didn’t want it to stop. 

“Ron.” She pulled away slightly. “The oven.”

“It can wait.” Ron kissed her again.

“Are you mad? We’ll burn the house down?”

“Right.” He pulled away enough to allow her to jump down from the counter. “Wouldn’t want that.”

“It might shut the neightbors up.” Hermione laughed and bent down to open the oven door. 

“Oh shut up.” Ron poked his tounge at her.

“What if I won’t?” She straitened up again, showing off a tray of perfectly made muffins. 

“Wha…wait, you can bake? Why am I always the one baking?”

“You never asked if I could do it.”

“No…I mean. I didn’t think…”

“Honestly Ronald. You read in the book, and you do what it says.”

“Of course there’s a book.” Ron muttered, smiling.

“There’s always a book.” She took a muffin from the tray and bit into it. 

“You’re beautiful.” Ron let the words slip out.

“You’re beautiful too.” Hermione leaned against his chest and he leaned forward to kiss the top of her head. She looked up and, standing up on her toes, she pushed her lips against his.

“You taste like cookies.” Ron mumbled into her lips.