A patronus, Harry tells Hermione, is acing a test and the warmth of a butterbeer between your hands. It is your friends holding you when you fall, and Ron’s sparkling eyes when you whisper hi. And there’s an otter, swimming, and Hermione is blushing.
A patronus, Harry tells Ron, is Ginny’s shaky smile lighting up the world at the end of second year. It is winning the Quidditch World Cup, unwrapping yet another knitted jumper, and your startled surprise at the sight of Hermione punching Draco in the face. And there’s a dog, chasing the otter, and Ron is laughing.
A patronus, Harry tells Luna, is the feeling of starlight on your skin and grass between your bare toes. It is snow melting through your fingers, the magic your mother used to make, something singing in your heart when you stare at the impossible. And there’s a hare, jumping, and Luna is shining.
A patronus, Harry tells Cho, is Marietta shouting the lyrics of her favourite song, dancing in the rain during a storm. It is the look on Cedric’s face when he saw you at the Yule Ball, his hand holding yours and never letting go. And there’s a swan, sliding, and Cho is crying.
A patronus, Harry tells Seamus, is Dean’s funny expression when he is about to burst into laughter and the sound of a explosion that turns out right. It is the fireworks, bright flowers blossoming in the night sky; and the fire burning in your lungs as you fly. And there’s a fox, running, and Seamus is smirking.
A patronus, Harry tells Ginny, is the world expanding underneath you and the wind playing with your hair. It is dancing and laughing until there are tears on your cheeks, Molly’s disapproving voice and Arthur’s amused eyes after one of the twins’ pranks. And there’s a horse, flying, and Ginny is grinning.
A patronus, Harry thinks, is that weird feeling that lives in his chest when the Room of Requirement glows silver, speaking of times when the world was golden.
Deet glanced down at her son, silently gushing at his little gap toothed smile. “I’m working on a new sweater for you, sweetie.” She held up a tangled ball of red yarn being held between two knitting needles, “Winter’s just around the corner after all.”
Jen watched astonished as the mesh of red slowly began to take shape into something resembling a collar, then a sleeve, and very soon another sleeve to join it. He toddled closer to the side of the bed, beckoning Deet to scoop him up so he could get a better look.
“Would you like to give it a go?”
His big blue eyes widened slightly. “Really mama? Can I?”
Deet smiled warmly. “Of course you can. It’s your sweater after all - you should have a hand in making it too.”
Slowly did she guide her little one to sit between her thighs, placing her hands atop his and working them through the motions until the individual crimson spools were being tightly fastened to one another. At some point, Deet began to sing to him. A gentle melody that spilled effortlessly from her lips and filled the once still and quiet of the bedroom. Jen flickered his tiny ears in delight, briefly letting his mother take over knitting as he sunk into her inviting warmth.
That’s when the door creaked open and a pair of deep cobalt eyes greeted them affectionately.
“Should I just leave this and be on my way?” Rian chuckled, a playful lilt to his voice. He gestured with his head to the tray of tea and mini confections that Brea had dropped off from the Vapran marketplace. “You two seem pretty occupied with one another. Would hate to interrupt.”
Deet rolled her eyes fondly, already making room for Rian on the bed. “Well you could,but then you’d be missing out on some wonderful cuddle time, and that sounds awfully dreadful doesn’t it?”
The Stonewood laughed a little louder this time. “Oh absolutely, Deethra.”
Kicking off his boots, Rian placed the tray on the nightstand and took his place at his wife’s side, bending his head down to leave a quick peck on Jen’s forehead. It was then that Deet decided the knitting could wait until later. She had promised cuddles, and both her boys looked in desperate need of them. Especially Rian, who seemed particularly weary after running his earlier errands.
“Settle in my dears….” she cooed, wrapping her arms around both of them. “We’ve got the rest of the day to do absolutely nothing at all….”
When the sigil of the Castle Clan appears on the skin just below your collarbone, you know your days of freedom are limited.
Every year marked humans are gathered together and released into the Terrain - a large area of woodland sacred to the Clans. Each Clan leader selects a member from their Clan, who will hunt down the human bearing the mark of their Clan, claiming them as their own.
This year, the leader of the Castle’s - Frank - is finally selecting his second in command. Lieutenant Billy Russo. As Billy has already rejected every proposed match, Frank hopes that the connection between a marked human and their hunter will allow Billy to find his mate - as Frank did when Maria was marked all those years ago.
The members of the Clans are elite warriors, trained to shift their form into apex predators. Most marked humans don’t even attempt to run, settling down in the woodland to wait for their hunter. But you’re not going down without a fight. Luckily for Billy, he’s always loved the chase.
Oke… Fuck it….
I had about 2K words for this but then tumblr decided to fuck me over so here is the rewritten version I also probably made this far more serious than you intended it to be but here we are
This is exactly the vibe I was planning on going for, and you’ve given me the motivation to properly start on this fic (probably just a really long oneshot)
