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“Have you ever brought any of – any of them to life?” she asks when he comes back to himself. The portrait of her playing her cello has been pinned to a wall unframed, and she feels him turn to look at it and smile against her hairline.
“Why would I?” He sounds amused. He sounds bitter. “Why bring my paintings of you to life only to have them turn to dust in my arms? You do that already in the flesh.”
OR:
Xavier pines. Wednesday doesn't really know what to do with herself. Thing ships it.
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Ginny never took Ancient Runes, but she grew up with magic seething in her sinew and coiling in her gut, and so laughter, hard and hysterical, bubbles up in her chest when she sees a precisely cut crescent moon sitting inside a pictogram of a sun.
The sun marks the hours of the day, but the moon marks the passage of weeks. Months. Years.
There’s still shouting behind her.
Ginny doesn’t hesitate.
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Lupin spaces the missions out, so it doesn’t look like high ranking death eaters are suddenly and inexplicably fatally clumsy, but those remaining beef up their security around June, anyways. Pansy can’t blame them. They’re fanatics, not stupid.
Still, no one is guarded against a girl who doesn’t exist.
Pansy slides through wards designed to keep out anyone less than pureblooded, and draws on her knowledge of every dark hex she memorised while hiding from her father in the library as a child.
OR:
The Jason Bourne Pansy AU that nobody asked for.
Series
- Part 4 of Volte Face
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Hermione knows fear.
She knows what it is that drives Harry further into the sky on grey evenings and she knows the tremble in Ginny’s fingers when she reaches for him in the temporary warmth of their common room. She sees it reflected in Ron’s eyes when he lies in bed memorising each moving pixel of a photograph of his family and she smells it in the scent of hippogriff manure that clings to Neville after he emerges from the greenhouses after six hours straight of re-potting plants.
Hermione’s scared, too.
And so when she’s accosted by none other than Pansy Parkinson just outside Slug and Jiggers, she doesn’t wrench herself away and slap the girl, even though she wants to.
OR:
Daphne Greengrass, Pansy Parkinson, and Hermione Granger can smell the war approaching.
Series
- Part 3 of Volte Face
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Admittedly, Hermione’s usual interactions with Slytherins are with Malfoy, Parkinson, the Thickheaded Thugs and Bulstrode, so it’s not like she sees how any of them behave in normal social settings (i.e. when they aren't being racist bigots). But – she registers, absently, that this is the first time that she’s seen a Slytherin laugh, pure and easy.
When she picks at this scene later, when she’s savouring everything about the night like a sherbet lemon nestled in her cheek, she wonders a little why she’s never thought of Slytherins knowing joy the same way she does.
OR:
Hermione notes the way the world shifts after Slytherin Cassius Warrington is the spare in that graveyard.
Part 2 of the Volte Face series.
Series
- Part 2 of Volte Face
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Assorted Drabbles and Shorts by endocrine
Fandom: Harry Potter - Fandom, Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
29 Sep 2015
- Words:
- 16,393
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throwing stones (dizzy with eternity) by andromeda3116
Fandoms: Avatar: The Last Airbender
20 Feb 2012
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Yangchen isn't good enough for anyone but herself. It will have to do.
Bookmarked by endocrine
17 Mar 2019
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the beginning of a new and brighter birth by aloneintherain
Fandoms: Avatar: The Last Airbender
13 Jun 2018
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“I’m so proud of you, my nephew.” Uncle cups Zuko’s face in his lined hand. The gesture is so tender, his palm so warm, that Zuko has to take a fortifying breath against the sudden swell of emotion in his chest.
“I want to be a good leader, Uncle,” Zuko says. “I want to look after my people.”
“You will,” Uncle says. “You are, nephew.”
In a new era of peace, Zuko works to be a very different Fire Lord than his forefathers. Based on this tumblr post.
- Language:
- English
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- 15,637
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Bookmarked by endocrine
17 Mar 2019