#seriouslypaddy

[on-borrxwed-time]

Hey knobhead, lads night. Bring the poker set. And galleons. Peter says crisps and Remus says chocolate.

Lily said yes, so I’m on it!

Wait… Do they want me to bring all those things? Little leeches, the lot of you!

[vermiculus-incipiens]

VI Quote of the Week:

Lily pressed her lips but held back the angry remarks; it was an instinct now, be kind. Be kind first. Be kind until it was impossible. Be kind until it put someone else in danger. Even now, even with him, she would be as kind as she could manage. “I’ve still got time before I’m due,” she said, after a moment. Andie told her it was as likely for the baby to come early as late, and so Lily wasn’t confined to the house yet. She’d like to see anyone try to confine her anyway.                                                                   -- thelionheartedxlily, Life Lessons

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Lefevre seemed like a very sensible sort. Severus assumed the other man was probably very experienced. or woman..could be a woman, they were equally likely to be good at the subject, and traditionally witches dealt more with the potions side of magic…or had in muggle books. He didn’t know how much that reflected reality though. And they had signed ‘respectfully’ which brought a rush of warm pride to his chest. Yes even if they were french, Severus had decided he liked the other potioneer. He quickly penned a response and then tried to rub the small mark from the cigarette ash off the bottom of the parchment.                                                             -- notlibatiusborage, Potions Pen Pals

She’d say this much – either his ears or his instincts were very well-tuned. They’d only turned the first corner into the darker side of the shopping district when they saw two masked and robed figures, waving their wands at a storefront labeled Borgin & Burkes. Prewett, of course, had immediately shouted out, demanding to know what they were doing, and Charity had experienced an instant and all-consuming jolt of fear – this was it. She was officially about to fight someone on behalf of the Order, and she was not prepared.                                                                   -- charity-h-burbage, The Innocent

Sirius’ eyebrows rose to the ceiling, ear pointed towards the kitchen. He thought he just heard that the baby was coming. Yet there was no screaming in pain. He narrowed his brows confusedly and marched to the kitchen.                                                                       -- seriouslypaddy, Beautiful Boy

[notlibatiusborage]

Absence Makes the Hate Grow Deeper.

seriouslypaddy‌:

Sirius sputtered a laugh, pleasantly surprised that he’d gotten the upper hand.

“Don’t believe that I’ve been pining after that nose of yours? Sounds like you want me to Snivellous. How bent are you?”

He crossed his arms and leaned against whatever he could find, in an easy sort of way.

“Think you’re the only person in this world who’d look better with a broken nose.” Sirius grinned, feeling particularly clever.

He could feel heat in the back of his neck and a muscle near his jaw twitched. Bastard. Bastardbastardbastard. He hated that with weird Black logic he could never win. “I’m not the one doing the missing, Black. Maybe you’re the bent one.” He hated that Black knew all his buttons. But now Severus knew buttons too. 

“I’d have thought you’d be busier looking for your brother than me.” Obviously he did also feel bad that Regulus was missing-presumed-definitely-dead, but he also wanted to hurt Black, and doing that in public was difficult. 

He knew his nose was large and took up more real estate on his face than it should and he knew it was easy to break, having had that happen more than once, but..it wasn’t fun to hear.

[notlibatiusborage]

Snape, you ugly old hag. I've missed that beautiful face

He spun, wand out at once at the sound of that loathed voice and one lip curled back, baring his crooked yellow teeth. He knew what he looked like, and he knew that Black knew that too. Black with his long hair that looked roguish and messy  not greasy and lank and his shiny white teeth. “I don’t believe you,Black.” He spat, hatred in every syllable

[vermiculus-incipiens]

VI Quote of the Week:

Nothing stuck in her brain anymore, and she had resorted to writing everything down. Most things went into a little notebook that she carried everywhere - it had to do lists, grocery lists, things that Sirius had done that were annoying, things James had done that were sweet. Anything and everything. But bringing out a Muggle notebook in Knockturn Alley seemed a bit … foolish.                                                                              -- thelionheartedxlily, Retail

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He hummed a noise and merely shrugged at her threat. Instead he took another large gulp of whiskey. Life was always more simple with alcohol. Least until the effects of it wore off. Seemed like it had been the only way he’d gotten through several summers at home. But back then he’d been alone. The Marauders were a luxury reserved for the school year. There was no communal drinking party when life got its hardest. Maybe that would have helped some. Or maybe not.                                                                           -- seriouslypaddy, Concerned

She would be lying if she said that she wasn’t pleased that Igor chose to stay and speak with her.  While she would hardly admit anything of the sort, she had found the quiet chilling, almost, being left alone with Draco intimidating.  Igor provided a small but welcome buffer to the isolation she had so inadvertently found herself in.                                                                            -- forever-toujourspur, Draco

Daisy wasn’t sure she’d explained herself well at all– it was hard to describe why your siblings didn’t feel like siblings without sounding like a horrible person. Tilden always seemed to understand her, even when she did a terrible job of explaining herself. She nodded as he said it must be weird. “It was,” she agreed. It was still weird, really. “I guess I haven’t actually been an only child for… nine years? But I still feel like one.” It was probably her fault— she probably ought to try to get to know them better. They were nice kids, even if she didn’t understand half of the things they said or did. But even if she did put in more effort to try and get to know the two of them, they’d never be close the way Beth and her siblings were. They were just… her dad’s other kids.                                                                    -- perennialgrace, Meet and Greet

[vermiculus-incipiens]

VI Quote of the Week:

His question made her pause; the answer would be easy enough for her personally: she’d get a book, or a stack of them. But that was a very generic answer, and one she was sure that Moody had already thought of. She had a hard time picturing him sitting with a book anyway. “You could take up knitting,” she said, barely smothering her laughter long enough to get it out. She’d asked Molly Weasley for pointers but the mental image of Moody holding knitting needles had her in stitches.                                                                -- thelionheartedxlily, Broken Pieces

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But as much as he liked to hum and haw and complain about his piece of junk, it was his crown. It was all his, and he loved that. It also looked wicked cool, which was a very enticing added bonus.                                                                                -- seriouslypaddy, Temper

“I’m okay,” he told her shakily. “I’m okay,” he repeated again. “I’m okay.” The words became a chant, something to help ground him and remind him that the traumas in his mind were simply that - in his mind. Well, most of them.                                                                       -- edgarbonesknows, Misplaced

“Leave the biscuits on the table. They’ll give me something to walk for.” He hardly needed food to motivate him, but it was still nice to have a reward at the end of an exercise.                                                                   -- head-auror-moody, For Granted

[vermiculus-incipiens]

VI Quote of the Week:

Draco smiled in his sleep, and the ball of emotions that had been storming up in Narcissa couldn’t be suppressed anymore.  Any mistake could result in something happening to Draco.  Ramsey had proved already that having a young son would do nothing except potentially provoke the Dark Lord.  Finally, Narcissa could no longer hold in the sobs that wracked her shoulders, and though they came silently, she had to sit on the daybed.  She would stay, she resolved.  She would stay until she was sure he was safe, that nothing would happen to him. And so she did, until the pillow was wet with tears, and her sobs had quieted into the slow breathing of sleep.                                                                       -- forever-toujourspur, Mistakes

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The door to the Leaky Cauldron opened and Daisy glanced up, smiling when she saw Lily. “Hey!” she said, jumping to her feet. She gave Lily a quick hug hello, which was surprisingly awkward to do now that Lily’s belly had gotten so much bigger. “How are you? How’s the baby?” Daisy knew precisely nothing about babies and really didn’t know what sort of questions she ought to be asking, but that seemed like a good general one.                                                               -- perennialgrace, Summer Shopping

Sirius had experience cleaning all sorts of wounds, just like this one. He’d been doing it on himself ever since he could remember. Only thing missing now were the tears, sense of debilitating guilt, and paranoia that anyone would see before it healed completely. He’d gotten pretty good at judging healing times. Looking at the damage Remus had, healers would probably say 4 or 5 days. Sirius could scoff at them, he’d have it cleared up in 2.                                                                                -- seriouslypaddy, Unwind

“Not bad!? NOT FUCKIN’ BAD!?” Those words snapped her, breaking her at the seams unexpectedly “MOODY LOST HIS FUCKING LEG! I BLEW OFF HIS LEG, SIRIUS! MY BOSS’S LEG! OUR LEADER! A MAN I ADMIRED AND HE’LL BE DOOMED TO LIMP AROUND LIKE A BLOODY PIRATE FOR ThE REST OF HIS LIFE!”                                                                      -- cherrybomb-witch, Concerned

[vermiculus-incipiens]

VI Quote of the Week:

He knew who he was. That would never change. His father would always be on him like stale whiskey breath, tense heavy air, and his red wine veins. He had heard once that it was possible to take all of your blood out from your body and replace it with new blood, someone else’s. It was muggle trickery no doubt, but he still sometimes found himself wishing that he could cut out every part of his father from his body.                                                                 — seriouslypaddy, Good Ambience

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She came back slowly, hesitantly, as if her subconscious knew something she did not, knew that when she woke up, something terrible would be happening. She wanted to avoid, to be protected by the blanket of sleep, far from the horror.                                                                       -- cherrybomb-witch, Misplaced

Zane had his up and down days as everyone, but the precious moments like these that reminded him that his kids could still be kids despite everything that was going on in the world around them was a wonderful feeling indeed. It nearly brought tears to his eyes, but he could hardly bear the embarrassment if he burst into tears in front of this near stranger. Especially over something like a toy dragon.                                                                   — edgarbonesknows, The Dragon

It was easy for Alastor to relate to Tilden’s answer about seeing everyone on the street as suspicious, though for the Auror, those were his more regular days lately. When the enemy could be anyone, it was hard to not think of everyone being a potential Death Eater. There were many more times than he cared to count that an attack had come out of the blue and then they always seemed to slip through the cracks in the aftermath - a haze, as the herbologist had put it. It was bloody infuriating.                                                                  — head-auror-moody, For Granted