#mmmb

Found these hiding in my old FLIPACLIP and idk what to do with them. I have no desire to clean them up or finish them

I think it was probably from this scene in an abandoned WIP about Jackson, this muggle dude who was an information gatherer for Dumbledore.

Context: He meets up for meetings with Minerva, Albus, Remus, and Severus each week to give reports. He's made a precarious deal to not be killed, as he is immune to Obliviation (idiot accidentally made friends with a trickster god). He's been to many meetings and now everyone is starting to like him except obviously Severus who hates him. Heheh.

Her- here- here's the scene:

Jackson sat stiffly in his chair in front of Albus's desk, watching as the headmaster flipped through his report. Minerva sat to the side, giving Jackson a stern look. Remus sat next to her and gave Jackson an awkward little thumbs up. Severus was sandwiched in a shadowy corner, looking perhaps even more murderous then the last time. The silence dragged on. Jackson was weary, not only from training with Wotton (thats the trickster god, m'dudes) in a futile attempt to gain any upper hand against a magical opponent with a major advantage, or living in the woods, but also by the issues he was having with his mind. It was all tangled up in there and every time he ventured in, meditating in an open field, he'd find himself thrown out violently. His own mind! It was as if there was something that didn't want him to know it was there. It sent a chill of unnerve down his spine.

Albus set his report down on the desk and finally smiled, pushing his half moon spectacles up on his crooked nose.

"Another excellent report, Jackson. I enjoyed your analysis on the 1930's in both the Muggle and Wizarding world." Albus slid the stack of papers back and Jackson took them. "Now, I believe I want to ask you a few questions."

Jackson swallowed thickly,

"Please." He gestured for the headmaster to continue, all cordial and shit.

"This… issue we've seen arise when trying to obliviate you, it's made for quite the conundrum. In every way, you are entirely normal, yet this sticks out as if there is something larger at play." Albus sobered, leaning forward and folding his fingers.

"I was hoping to attempt something a bit more… experimental." Albus went quiet for a sinister moment, then smiled. "Severus and I believe that you can see through illusion magic due to an abnormality in your mind. Perhapse some deformity of your psyche, but there can be no knowing unless we check. That would be through-"

"Occlumency." Jackson uttered, having read through the mind arts section of the Hogwarts library. "You want to enter my mind?" His eyes darted towards the door. Albus waved his hands gently. "Jackson, my dear boy… there is no need to fear. I only suggest we perform a very brief scan. I believe Severus here could do so and you won't even notice."

At the mention of Severus, Jackson broke into a cold sweat beneath his button-up. The man in question stepped forwards, a looming presence of perpetual anger towards Jackson.

Albus tilted his head, watching Jackson carefully. "That is, only if you consent to this process, of course." Jackson blinked. He was being given a choice? Why? That seemed off.

"Well… no, I would perfer if we-"

"For God's sake, Albus! We twiddle our thumbs for the likes of him now?" Severus hissed, a sneer frozen on his face. Jackson flinched under his intense stare of hatred.

Albus frowned, "Now Severus-"

"To hell with this." Severus shook his head and swooped forwards, bending over front of Jacksons chair faster then he could react.

"That's really won't be necesSSSARY-" Jackson trailed off as Severus grasped his face in both chilled hands and bent down uncomfortably close, his flared nostrils blowing puffs of pissed off air along Jackson's cheeks.

"Look at me." Severus demanded and Jackson immediately closed his eyes. If he'd learned anything living as a muggle in a wizarding world, it was context clues. Context clues told him to not listen for shit. Severus made a noise of frustration and tightened his grip. He leaned in and whispered directly into Jacksons ear, completely turning his brain off for the few seconds his words bounced around his skull.

"If you do not want to end up as potion ingredients, I would suggest you obey me, Muggle."

Jackson, with now very little reluctance, opened his eyes. They were met with a pair of black ones. So black he wondered how. As black as the black of a lake on an overcast night, or the darkest dark of a deep, deep well, or the deepest, most soul grabbing aggressive of- of... Okay, Jackson is no poet. Give him a break.

[(one of) my brother(s) vaguely heard in the background after the firework goes off: it's Malware colors,,,]

G WAWA

Ayyyy lets go