In which an unlikely friendship stems between two opposing two, making one of their lives a bit less grey
contains: platonic!reg & pandora (thoigh it could be read as romantic? i like to hc them as best fiends but it can fit the romantic narrative if you’d like) , protective!reg, he adores pandora and i do too, implication of bullying, unedited
authors note: i’m bored and dying from school do have this blurb i wrote inspired by manu reg and pandora friendship headcanons
Regulus Black hated the world.
He hated how cruel it could be, how cold and mean it was towards others without an ounce of remorse. He hated it.
He hated it even more however, when he had walked into the Slytherin Common Room to see no other then Pandora Lovegood on the couch—tears flowing from her eyes as Rosier draped a blanket around her shoulders. Beside her on the couch sat Emma Vanity who was rubbing the Ravenclaw’s arms comfortingly.
Regulus stiffened the second he saw her, the sudden action catching Evan’s attention but before he could even open his mouth, Regulus cut him off.
“Was it them?”
It was a vague question, that he knew, but they understood what he meant. Pandora lowered her gaze to the ground and leaned into Emma’s chest who shared a look with Evan. Regulus inhaled a sharp breath. That was all the answer he needed to know it was indeed them—those bloody Gryffindors.
He had decided to let them go the first time, agreeing with Barty that they were simply clueless first years but this wasn’t the same. Not after the many warnings he had given them, not after he nearly gave that knob a black eye behind one of the Hogsmeade shops. Those warnings clearly weren’t enough so perhaps learning the consequences of their actions would better teach them how to act.
Regulus had turned sharply on his heel and was ready to storm down the halls to search for those damn Gryffindors when a soft voice stopped him.
“Reg.”Pandora.
Regulus paused. He was just a step away from leaving the common room now and he could’ve left. Left and found those bloody twats and give them something to talk about but he couldn’t.
Because no matter how much he hated the world, he could never upset her and he knew that this would upset her. No matter how much they deserved it and how he so deeply wanted to watch as he turned their eyes dark, he just couldn’t. Not when it would upset her. He wouldn’t risk it.
Never.
His shoulders dropped as he let out a sigh and the common room door swung shut behind him. He had left and could’ve went to find the first years regardless of what she told him but Pandora Lovegood knew him and she knew he wouldn’t, for Regulus Black may hate the world—hate those bloody first years specifically and every other cruel thing the world had to offer—but he couldn’t deny the fact that she was the one thing that made him hate it a little bit less.
they’re all friends with each other with friendly rivalry okay??? U cannot change my mind. I personally don’t really consider CC as canon
~~~
“Scorp?” Rose asked timidly.
“Hm, Rosie?” Scorpius replied, looking up from his magical colouring book which his Grandma had given him for his fifth birthday that year.
“Do you wanna go see the fishes in the pond together?” she asked.
Scorpius blushed slightly, nodding shyly. Rose extended a grubby hand towards him. He took it, smiling toothlessly at her.
“Where are you two going?” Uncle Harry asked, appearing at the doorway.
“To go see the fishes,” Scorpius said seriously, his slight lisp making Harry chuckle.
“Well, Scorpius, you might have to go on your date later. Your parents are looking for you. They’re going home.”
“Uncle Harry no! First of all, this isn’t date, we like fishies and wanna go see them. Second of all, Scorpius can’t go now! We have to go see the fishies! Look, we’re even holding hands so we don’t get lost!” Rose cried.
“I can see that, and you two really look adorable, but Scorpius really must leave Rosie. You can go with Albus if you want” Harry said gently, scratching the back of his neck.
“Oh! Oh! I forgot about Al! He was supposed to come too Uncle Harry. He was gonna hold my other hand. See?” she squealed, holding up her free hand to show her uncle.
“Scorpius? Scorp! There you are. Your father and I have been looking for you all over. It’s time to go home now honey, come along!” Astoria Malfoy said, coming up behind Harry.
“But Mama-” he began.
“Mrs. Malfoy! Scorpius and I just wanna go look at the fishes! Just for one second! Can we? Pretty please?” Rose asked politely.
Harry suppressed a chuckle at how much they reminded her of his best friends. Hermione was always like that. Talking over Ron when he couldn’t properly articulate his thoughts, almost always getting her way.
“Oh Rose, darling, he really can’t. You see, we’re going to see his grandmother. Another day perhaps?” Astoria said sweetly.
Rose looked crestfallen. She softly let go of Scorpius’s hands. Scorpius didn’t want her too. He liked Rose’s hands. They were soft. He wanted to hold them for some time. But he also wanted to go visit Grandma.
Rose looked at Scorpius and smiled a little.
“Next time we’ll see the fishies? Promise?” Rose whispered sadly so only Scorpius could hear.
“Promise,” he said softly, walking up to his mother and taking her hand.
As they went to his Grandma’s house, Scorpius thought only about Rose, her soft hands, and looking at fishies in the pond with her.
HOMIE I THOUGHT YOUR BDAY WAS 5/11 SO I PLANNED THIS WHOLE THING BUT WAS IT 5/10???? I AM FUCKING LATE??? SRY IF SO PLZ ACCEPT ALL OF MY PLANNED LOVE BELOW.
Thank you for everything you do for this fandom–from being part welcoming committee, part LCD Queen, part artist, part writer… It wouldn’t be the same here without you.
As a token of my gratitude, I wrote you a little something to accompany your gorgeous piece, The Ghost of Innocence.
The Ghost of Innocence
Harry/Gen | Rate G | No warnings | 315 words
Everyone knows the Patronus charm is an extension of one’s soul, a magical representation of our hidden depths. Everyone knows that in true love, the Patronus changes to match or complement one’s beloved. But a little-known fact about the charm is that it matures with its caster.
It’s a relatively unknown fact because up until the Second Wizarding War, no child knew the charm. It wasn’t even a requirement in the Hogwarts curriculum since only Aurors would ever be in need of it. It’s a charm meant for adults, to protect against unspeakable evil.
But during a dark time, one child was forced to learn. Through his extraordinary perseverance and the love that saved him, he was able to produce a corporeal Patronus. A stag like his dad’s he’d said, his voice filled with pride. No one had dared to say otherwise, silently agreeing that the boy deserved this one sweet thing in this cruel world about to break into war. But a stag it was not, it was a fawn that trotted along excitedly in its too-thin legs.
It was beautiful–powerful in its enthusiasm and a worthy protector of the boy that summoned him. For a year the fawn hopped playfully through the halls of Hogwarts, bringing joy to any who saw it skipping about. Until the day the boy saw Death and recognized him, an old and unforgiving friend. With a wink and a tug on his friend’s hand, Death changed the boy.
The next time he cast a Patronus, it was a true stag–just like his father’s. Imposing and majestic, he guarded many in the years of war that followed. The boy would never know it, but everyone around him grieved the loss of the fawn. Another casualty of war, one of the many the boy would experience. Relegated to live in their memories–a ghost of his innocence, gone far too soon.
you’re right on time!!!! it’s May 11 oh my gosh my heart!! thank you!! your words are perfect! you captured everything i tried to express so well! amazing!! thank you!!!
Imagine James falling asleep in your lap instead of studying…
You’re sitting in your favourite spot in the Gryffindor common room, sunk into the cushions of the couch with the fire roaring in front of you, warming you up from the chill in the air. You’re reading a book, absentmindedly running your fingers through James’ hair.
He’s head was resting in your lap as he read from his potions textbook, trying to finish off the assignment that was due tomorrow. You lightly scratch at his scalp, his messy curls tangling around your fingers as you drag them back and forth.
When the textbook clatters to the floor loudly you jump, startled away from your own book. James’ breathing evens out, his lips just parted, his eyes closed. You smile, shifting yourself back into a position that was more comfortable, focusing back on the paragraph that you’d been reading before.
“So much for studying hmm Jamie,” You chuckle, going back to running your fingers through your boyfriends hair.
Imagine being there when James wakes up in the hospital wing…
You brush your thumb over the back of James’ hand, his skin warm to the touch. He was still passed out cold, his left eye black and swollen, his bottom lip split. Under the blanket covering him his cracked ribs were wrapped tight.
When Gryffindor played Slytherin it was always intense, both houses out to prove which of them was the best each and every game. You loved watching James play, seeing the joy on his face when he was up in the air…
But you hated seeing him get hurt and this time he got hurt more than usual. It all happens within a matter of minutes, your whole body reacting as James falls off his broom after being deliberately knocked into. When he hits the ground the other Gryffindor’s in the stand start yelling and cursing out the Slytherin team. There’s a hard lump in the back of your throat as you start pushing yourself out of the stands and towards the field. James hadn’t gotten back up yet and it left a horrible feeling in the pit of your stomach.
Madam Pomfrey fixed him up, telling you he just needed some rest as she moved over to the next bed. You sit next to your boyfriend, watching the way his lashes moved on the tops of his cheeks, his glasses sitting on the table beside his head. You look up as Sirius walks in, still in his quidditch robes and covered in mud. He looks at you, then at James, wincing at his friends injuries.
“Hasn’t woken up yet?”
“Madam Pomfrey said it wouldn’t be long, he’s just resting.”
Sirius nods his head, rubbing his knuckles. You notice the slight bruising, knowing that Sirius wouldn’t have let what happened go easily. Normally you don’t agree with fighting of any kind, but after what happened you can’t help but think that that Slytherin got everything they deserved.
“What happened with the rest of the game?” You ask.
“Called off,” Sirius rolls his eyes. “The slimy git called foul after I socked him, most of both teams are in detention for the next week.”
“Sirius -”
“Don’t worry Pads, we’ll show em next time.”
James’ voice pulls both of your attention, his eyes blinking slowly in the bright light. You pass him his glasses, taking his hand again as he winces in pain. You give him a soft smile as he squeezes your hand, using your free one to brush his unruly hair back away from his face.
“I was worried about you,” You say quietly.
“That was my plan all along,” James jokes, cringing as he coughs.
“Right… you planned for Rosier to knock you from your broom.”
“How else was I going to get you to give me the attention I need.”
You shake your head, leaning down to press a chaste kiss to his lips, careful not to bump him too much. James smiles as you pull back.
Imagine Fred and your daughter making you breakfast…
You’re rubbing the sleep from your eyes as you pad quietly down the stairs, Fred’s bright, oversized button up covering your body. You’d woken up alone this morning, your husbands side of the bed cold and empty and no four year old pressing her feet into the small of your back.
You can hear giggling from the kitchen, a smile spreading over your face as you peak around the corner, the strong, sweet smell of pancakes filling your nose. Your daughter Sophia is sitting on the counter, still in her pyjamas, swinging her legs back and forth as Fred flips a pancake on the stove. She laughs at something he says, her cheeks dotted with flour.
“What’s all this then?” You ask, stepping around the corner. Sophia gasps when she sees you, shuffling to the edge of the counter excitedly. Fred drops her to the floor and she runs over to you, hugging you around the legs. You run your fingers through the wild mess of hair on top of her head. “We made pancakes mummy!” “I can see that,” You chuckle. “What’s the special occasion?”
Fred flips the last pancake onto the plate and turns off the stove, even more flour covering his cheeks then on Sophia. He walks towards you, picking Sophia up, swinging her onto his hip before leaning down and kissing your lips softly. Sophia giggles, burying her face into Fred’s neck. “Just because we love you darling,” Fred says.
There’s a fresh bite to the night air as you lie side by side with Sirius, the ground by the black lake damp on your back. It’s late in the night, the rest of the castle asleep behind you, the normally bustling grounds peacefully silent. You turn your head to look at Sirius, your hand brushing over his lightly. He has a far off look on his face, an almost impossible serenity about him that you’ve never seen in all the years you’d been friends.
“What are you thinking about?” You whisper, despite knowing there’s only the two of you there, it feels wrong somehow to break the silence.
Sirius smiles softly and turns to look back at you, some of his curls toppling down over his forehead. He threads his fingers through yours and squeezes gently. “I didn’t think you’d actually do it you know.” “Do what?” “Sneak out of the castle with me,” He chuckles. “You’re such a rebely/n.” You roll your eyes with a huff, your cheeks feeling warm. You’re at least glad that it’s dark out here and Sirius can’t see you blush. The truth was, you’d been crushing hard; so when he’d suggested the late night adventure you’d jumped at the chance.
“There’s more to me then what you think Black.” Sirius pushes up on his elbow, looking down at you, hovering slightly over you. Your tongue darts out to wet your lips as you squirm under his gaze, your belly doing a funny little flip as he leans down and brushes some hair out of your face.
“I’m looking forward to finding everything out about you y/l/n.”
Before you can question what he means his lips are touching yours lightly, barely there but enough that your heart hammers chaotically inside of your chest. Tentatively you reach up and brace your hand on his chest, parting your lips and deepening the kiss. When he pulls away you take a deep breath, missing the feeling of his lips immediately.
If this was how it was going to be, maybe you’d sneak out to look at the stars with him more often…
Tagging some other babes because It’s been so long and I don’t know anyone here anymore… wanna be friends? Or maybe you have some good potter blogs to follow? I’m so outdated in this fandom on here haha @slytherinsunrise@wand3ringr0s3@potter-imagines@theweasleysredhair
If you liked this imagine pls come let me know, I’ve been absent on this blog for a little while now but I’d like to come back to it more often. I’d really like to hear from you guys
Late night detention with Sirius after he gets you in trouble…
You scrub angrily at the inside of the cauldron, muttering bitterly under you breath. You couldn’t believe that you got stuck down in the potions classroom with Sirius Black of all people, scrubbing out old potions as detention. It was all his fault of course, he was nothing more then a pompous, big headed, immature child and -
“Hey, do you mind mumbling a bit quieter over there? I’m trying to concentrate.”
You look up to where Sirius is rocking backwards on one of the stools, his eyes were closed and it looked as though he hasn’t touched any of the cauldrons in his pile. Anger simmered away under the surface of your skin and you found it hard to resist throwing something at him.
“Are you actually going to do anything tonight?”
“I could,” Sirius shrugged, a smirk pulling at the corner of his mouth. “But not doing anything is making you even more upset princess and that’s all the satisfaction I need.”
This time you did throw something at him, the hard thud as he landed on the floor absolutely worth the last hour you’d spent in detention. Sirius gets back to his feet, cheeks red as he stalks over to where you’re still kneeling on the floor. He leans over you, curls dropping down across his face, a sneer contorting his otherwise soft features.
“You’re going to pay for that princess.”
Not at all wanting to back down under his hard stare you push yourself up higher, until the two of you are face to face, your noses almost bumping.
Harry walks into the kitchen of Grimmauld place with a photo clutched in his hands, his eyebrows knit together as he moves over to where Sirius is sitting at the table. By chance Sirius had come across some of James’ things, tucked away and forgotten about in the back of a closet; he’d given them all to Harry, hoping that his godson would find something in the mix of things to help him feel closer to his father.
“Hey,” Sirius looks up as Harry starts to speak. “Who’s this in the photo with you?”
Sirius takes the photo from Harry, looking down to see a much younger, happier version of himself, arm slung around your shoulders, the both of you laughing. He remembers the day pretty clearly, remembers Remus snapping the photo of the two of you without you knowing, but he can’t remember what the two of you were laughing so hard at, it sends a sharp twinge through the pit of his belly.
The two of you had dated through the later years of Hogwarts, moving into a rundown London apartment the day after you finished school. Sirius had thought about you a lot over the years, especially when he was locked up. He thought about everything that had happened through that first war, the loss and the ugliness and how you’d always stayed a ray of light in his life, no matter how grim things were.
Sirius’ eye glaze over has he hurriedly tries to blink away the tears before Harry notices them. There’s a barely there smile on his lips as he traces his finger delicately over the photo, all the small details in your face that his memory hadn’t done justice.
“That’s y/n,” He whispers, a deep ache in his chest. “She died a long time ago.”
